Chapter One: Surviving Troubled Times

Near dawn, the shantytown of Blackstone City still lay in total darkness.

A bone-piercing wind blew down from the north, howling like a sob, rattling the rotten thatch on the rooftops until it rustled.

Outside, the stench of urine and slop water; inside, the dank smell of mildew and rot—the two mingling together until an ordinary person, taking even the smallest breath, would retch without end.

This was the shantytown, the dwelling place of the lowborn—those who fell outside the four registered classes of scholar, farmer, artisan, and merchant.

Three months since crossing into this world, Li Zhi'an had grown used to the smell.

Draped in a moldy quilt of cotton wadding, he crouched in the corner of the shack without changing his expression, fingertips working ceaselessly, a heap of straw rope twisted from stalks lying beside him.

The straw rope coiled, folded, threaded, and pulled taut in his palms, the whole process flying along with practiced ease.

In an instant, a straw sandal took shape in his hands.

At the same moment, a line of text visible only to him surfaced before his eyes.

【Weaving one straw sandal—proficiency plus one.】

【Skill: Sandal Weaving】

【Progress: 1/500 (Minor Mastery)】

【Effect: A first glimpse of the craft; hands and feet move in coordination.】

'It worked!'

The next moment, a great surge of unfamiliar memories flooded into his mind.

Li Zhi'an closed his eyes and quickly digested the memories pouring in like a tide.

After a while, he slowly opened his eyes, rubbing his throbbing temples as he did.

As he had expected, these memories were mostly techniques for weaving sandals, with scarcely any feedback for the body—at most, his fingers had become a little more nimble.

It did nothing to change his situation.

But it was better than nothing—at least he could earn a bit more money now.

"I wonder when these days will ever come to an end."

Li Zhi'an let out a soft sigh, then lowered his head and went on weaving the straw sandals.

The original owner of this body had lost his parents young, and from childhood had depended on his uncle's family to get by.

After turning sixteen, he had made his living doing backbreaking labor at the docks.

After crossing over, he had tried that work for a few days, then thought to learn a trade.

Who would have guessed that, by some stroke of fortune, he would activate a cheat ability and learn to weave straw sandals.

Life had gotten a little easier, but it changed nothing.

Though he had a craft, as long as he could not escape his status as a lowborn, he would rot in this shantytown his whole life.

Yet the "Household Office" that managed the registries was firmly in the grip of the city's great families.

For him to change his registry status was as hard as climbing to heaven.

In his current sorry state, he could do nothing. The only thing he could do was try to save a bit of money and watch how things unfolded.

After all...

Li Zhi'an turned his gaze to the purple talisman hanging high in his mind, and fell silent.

With this thing, he had at least a little more hope than ordinary people.

Half an hour later, the morning light grew faint.

Li Zhi'an rolled out of bed, took up the straw sandals he had woven earlier, and pushed open the door to step out.

The place where he set up his stall was at the docks several kilometers away, where there were plenty of laborers who wore through their sandals—no small market.

"Hey, Brother An, out so early this morning?"

"Little An, my daughter, she..."

Along the way, quite a few people greeted him with smiles, and he mostly just laughed them off.

It wasn't that he was well-liked—it was simply that in this world, having a trade to lean on really did make one popular.

Especially since his craft, with the help of the talisman, improved by the day.

Passing through several narrow dirt alleys and stepping onto a road paved with green-tiled stone, then walking on for about ten minutes, the docks' tall stone gate came into view.

Only after honestly handing over three copper coins at the tent the government had pitched before the stone gate did Li Zhi'an stride into the docks.

He had not gone but a few steps when, out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of several familiar figures.

'Why are these plague gods here?'

Li Zhi'an furrowed his brow and quickened his pace, hoping to avoid them.

Ten steps.

Five steps.

Three steps.

Li Zhi'an let out a breath of relief.

The next second, a hand came to rest on his shoulder.

Tang Wei's body, like an iron tower, wrapped around him, leaving him unable to move.

"Little An, where do you think you're going?"

Li Zhi'an cursed inwardly, but on his face he forced out an ingratiating smile, taking another three copper coins from his waist and, without hesitation, stuffing them straight into Tang Wei's pocket.

"Master Wei, this is today's toil fee."

"Consider it my treating the brothers to some tea."

The other lowborn, when they met these masters of the Red Tiger Gang, all had to hand over money just as honestly.

Adding in the three coins handed to the government earlier, before they had even begun to earn, most people had already sunk the better part of a day's income.

The government flays their skin; the gangs gnaw their bones and suck their marrow—this was the normal state of things they faced.

Resist? For the local gangs, beating a lowborn to death was no different from beating a stray dog by the roadside.

In this bottomless pit of a shantytown, it could not stir up the slightest ripple.

The government would not look into it; even the family of the dead might not report the case to seek justice.

To survive here, there was only one word: "endure."

Break the rules, and in less than three days you'd be thrown into the water to feed the fish.

Tang Wei glanced at the bulging pocket, a look of satisfaction crossing his face, thinking to himself that this kid knew his place well enough.

The matter to come, then, should not be difficult.

He kept his expressionless look, and reached straight into the basket on Li Zhi'an's back to take out a pair of straw sandals.

He scanned the soles, then pinched them with his hand.

Dense stitching, thick soles, and springy too—the quality passed muster.

He said with a smiling squint:

"Good talent, Little An. This craft of yours is getting better and better."

"How about joining our gang?"

Tang Wei's tone was low and steady, carrying with it a hint of brooking no refusal.

To call it an invitation was less accurate than calling it a notice—he was certain Li Zhi'an would not dare refuse.

"Huh?"

Li Zhi'an was stunned for a moment. Inviting him, a scrawny, unarmed nobody—was this for real?

Had Tang Wei lost his mind?

"Wait."

A rumor he had previously sneered at suddenly flashed through his mind.

The Red Tiger Gang would recruit everyone in the shantytown who could weave straw sandals into the gang, and sell the sandals in a unified fashion.

Then, recalling the scarcity of supplies in the shantytown, his thoughts instantly cleared.

This was not like his previous life—here, straw sandals were a genuine hard currency.

For the lowborn, most of whom did backbreaking labor, cloth shoes were too expensive and couldn't take the wear, but going barefoot and wearing your feet raw was no different from waiting to die.

Under such circumstances, straw sandals became a necessity for the lowborn to work.

And the Red Tiger Gang need only keep a firm grip on the supply of straw sandals, and then, relying on its own force—who would still dare to resist?

By controlling a daily necessity, they cut off the lowborn's very will to resist at the root.

"This Red Tiger Gang really does have clever methods."

Li Zhi'an sneered coldly again and again in his heart, his impression of the Red Tiger Gang sinking a few notches further.

Naturally, he had no intention of agreeing.

In his previous life he had, after all, gone through a full nine years of compulsory education; he had his own values and bottom line. To join the Red Tiger Gang and help them oppress the common people—that he could not bring himself to do.

But that said, how was he to refuse?

Given the Red Tiger Gang's overbearing ways, refusing outright was no different from courting death.

Li Zhi'an's thoughts stirred, and then he scratched his head, putting on the honest, simple-minded look of a guileless fellow.

"Uh, could ya let me go back and talk it over with my uncle?"

"I'd like to ask his opinion."

His uncle managed a rice shop for the Hu family of the inner city, and still held some standing in the shantytown, so even Tang Wei dared not call on him at will.

And as a boy not yet sixteen, for him to say such a thing when faced with this sort of matter was reasonable enough—just the thing to use to stall for time.

Across from him, Tang Wei kept a wooden face, lowering his head to glare at Li Zhi'an, his eyes full of displeasure and anger.

This Li Zhi'an really didn't know his place.

He had made the trip himself, which was already doing the kid a favor, and now Li Zhi'an wanted him to make a second trip?

Where would he find the time for that? With time like that, wouldn't it be better to go collect some money and have a good drink?

But in dealing with a craftsman like Li Zhi'an, by the rules their gang leader had set, once was best, and if that didn't work, then come more times.

If he broke the rules, he'd have a hard time of it when he went back too...

"Here's the thing—Brother'll show some grace for all the tribute you've paid these years, and give you one more chance."

Tang Wei stretched out his other hand and held up a "one" before Li Zhi'an's eyes, giving it a shake:

"One week. Think it over carefully."

"Once you're in, everything's easy to discuss. From then on I'll only take thirty percent of your profits, and if you're lucky, maybe some boss will take a liking to you and help you change your lowborn registry."

"But if you refuse again..."

Tang Wei left the sentence unfinished, only giving Li Zhi'an a meaningful look before turning and walking away.

Next time would no longer be the first time, and by then, if Li Zhi'an was foolish enough to refuse, Tang Wei could deal with him outright and still have an account to give.

Watching Tang Wei's retreating figure, Li Zhi'an knit his brows tightly and held his silence.

The meaning of Tang Wei's last line could not have been more obvious.

And given the Red Tiger Gang's vicious cruelty, it was by no means mere talk.

Even if he refused and promised not to sell straw sandals, he would still hardly escape death.

A common man is innocent, but holding a jade brings him guilt.

What way was there to solve this problem?

Li Zhi'an propped his forehead with one hand, racking his brains in thought.

Report to the authorities? Forget it.

Find someone to plead his case—where would a lowborn like him get such connections? His uncle's reach didn't extend that far either.

"Damn it. Might as well learn martial arts and take the gamble!"

Li Zhi'an steeled his heart and made up his mind at once.

In this age of chaos, force was, in the end, the greatest and most reliable thing.

He had not originally intended to learn martial arts, because the cost was too great—the tuition gifts to take a master, the food supplements, the medicinal supplements, every one of them substantial, and on top of that he'd have to quit working entirely. It was simply not something he could bear.

But this Red Tiger Gang was a vicious wolf. If he didn't learn martial arts, the days ahead would only grow harder.

Especially now that he had already been marked—by then, never mind shedding his lowborn status, even protecting himself would be difficult.

To rise above others, the only way was to learn martial arts!

Fumbling for barely a few seconds inside the sweat-stained, blackened cloth, a worn-out purse was in his hand.

Inside was all his savings from the past half year—two hundred thirty-four copper coins in total.

To save up this sum, he had done backbreaking labor for days on end and sold straw sandals for several months.

Now it had become his only hope of turning his fortunes around.

Gripping the purse tightly in his hand, Li Zhi'an turned and walked toward the direction in his memory.

……

By now the sun was high, its light already shining into the filthy, muddy shantytown.

The alleys on the streets were narrow, the crude doorways nearly touching one another. The deeper Li Zhi'an walked, the thinner the light overhead became.

Wearing a bamboo hat and treading in straw sandals, Li Zhi'an turned and walked into an even darker little alley.

When he had first crossed over, dissatisfied with his situation, he had asked around everywhere.

Those martial arts halls in the city that could no longer stay in business would mostly open a shop in this dark corner, selling cheap, run-of-the-mill martial techniques to make up their losses.

However, the cultivation techniques there were a mixed bag, and quite a few were even wrong, which is what made him give up on the idea.

But now he could only take a gamble.

Hanging his head low, he walked forward a hundred paces, stopping before a dilapidated wooden door beside a general store.

He crooked a finger and knocked: three long, two short.

Tap-tap-tap, tap-tap.

Before long, the moldy, foul-smelling wooden door cracked open a sliver, revealing half of a long, horse-like face sporting a goatee.

"What is it?"

Li Zhi'an pressed down the brim of his bamboo hat to hide his youthful face and said in a gruff voice, "An acquaintance referred me here to buy a cultivation manual."

The horse-faced man knit his brows, then said:

"What do you want? Let me make it clear up front—I've only got ordinary stuff here. Whether you can actually master it is entirely up to you."

If you were selling the good stuff, I wouldn't dare buy it.

Li Zhi'an grumbled inwardly, and lowering his voice he said:

"I know the rules. Show me the goods."

The horse-faced man nodded and tossed out a single line: "Wait here."

He shut the door behind him, even sliding the wooden bolt back into place.

Not long after, the horse-faced man leaned half his body out and handed over several thin booklets with yellowed pages.

Li Zhi'an took them for a look—good heavens, every title was impressive!

*Mountain-Crushing Fist*, *Arhat Tiger-Subduing Fist*, *Shadowless Leg*...

"These fist-and-foot techniques are all two hundred coppers, no haggling!"

The horse-faced man's tone was icy, very much an air of buy-it-if-you-want, get-lost-if-you-don't.

He had long since caught a whiff of the stench on Li Zhi'an—a smell you couldn't pick up without living in the shantytown for months on end—and his clothing reeked of poverty too.

One look and he was clearly a lowly commoner from the shantytown, not someone who looked able to afford anything.

If he hadn't gone a good ten-some days without a single sale, he wouldn't have bothered with this sort at all.

Li Zhi'an had barely taken them in hand before he could get a careful look—within a few breaths, the man took them back.

Fortunately, the original body had studied a few years of characters under his uncle, and after transmigrating his memory had improved considerably, enough to recall the gist.

Most of what was inside were simple stick-figure-like drawings, with virtually no annotations.

It was just barely enough for him to confirm these weren't being passed off as worthless padding.

"Buy it if you want, otherwise pay up and get lost!"

The horse-faced man's patience was wearing thin.

"I want this one."

Li Zhi'an pointed at the copy of *Mountain-Moving Stance* and pulled out two strings of copper coins. The coins jingled as they shifted, instantly drawing the big man's gaze.

He vaguely recalled a man once saying that, at the very start of martial training, a bit of fist-and-foot work didn't matter much—what mattered was stance work.

"Good. Money in one hand, goods in the other."

The horse-faced man didn't hesitate and agreed on the spot.

These secret martial manuals, nearly gnawed clean by insects, were all common, dime-a-dozen goods of little use.

"Another poor kid who doesn't want to apprentice at a proper martial hall and take the legitimate path, scheming to climb to heaven by some shortcut instead."

The horse-faced man shut the door, a sneer on his face.

The more hopeless a lowly household's prospects, the more they believed in this sort of thing.

They never stopped to think: disciples who walk the proper path train through the hottest days of summer and the coldest days of winter, spending hundreds of taels of silver before they can develop real skill.

How could lowly households who can scarcely eat their fill ever learn it so easily?

More likely than not, one person taking up martial arts would end up bringing ruin upon the whole family.

……

After returning home, Li Zhi'an buried his head in the copy of *Mountain-Moving Stance*.

"Feet grip the earth and take root, body upright and qi sinks of itself... ten thousand forces return to the dantian, essence rises and then returns to the ordinary."

Li Zhi'an recited the formula very earnestly, trying to understand its meaning.

And then he discovered that he—he simply couldn't make sense of it...

Apart from a few passages of formula, there were only some stick figures performing rough movements, without a single annotation.

Even a master of classical Chinese from his past life would have come and been unable to understand it.

"No wonder those in the know all choose to pay tuition and join a martial hall."

Having skimmed through the whole thing, Li Zhi'an raised a hand and rubbed his dizzy eyes.

Anyone who could teach himself to mastery relying on these tattered fist manuals alone—what kind of genius would that be?

For an ordinary person, merely understanding the technique was a difficult matter, and practicing it was an even more impossibly difficult one.

Flipping *Mountain-Moving Stance* back to the first page, Li Zhi'an once again buried himself in the book.

This time he wasn't trying to understand it himself, but to memorize it by rote, just as he had learned to weave straw sandals before.

Back then, he had memorized by rote the complete process by which several old masters wove straw sandals, then tried it himself at home, and that was how he had activated the panel.

He just didn't know whether it would work this time.

He read through *Mountain-Moving Stance* over and over, until he had branded the entire *Mountain-Moving Stance* into his mind word for word.

The edges of the purple talisman quietly flickered, and a panel surfaced before his eyes.

【Skill: Mountain-Moving Stance】

【Proficiency: Beginner (0/100)】

【Effect: Qi sinks to the dantian, steady root and consolidated qi】

"Just as I thought!"

The heart Li Zhi'an had held suspended finally settled.

As long as a progress bar appeared, he could grind proficiency to gain insight.

That made him, even now, one-in-ten-thousand martial arts genius!

Those two hundred coppers were spent more than worth it!

Striking while the iron was hot, Li Zhi'an immediately mimicked the postures in the book to grind proficiency.