Chapter 1

Amidst the torrential rain, a lightning bolt, resembling a chain of fire, flashed across the night sky and then vanished. Immediately after, a thunderous boom, as if the heavens were collapsing, echoed through the land, shaking the earth.

Yang Ning opened his eyes and, after taking in the situation, made an irrevocable decision. He was ready to take action.

If a problem can be solved with a punch, there's no need to trouble one's intellect.

The scene before him made him truly angry. Three or four young, strong men were surrounding and beating a ragged, disheveled individual who was crouched on the ground, protecting his head, with no means of retaliation.

He did not oppose fighting, in fact, he enjoyed the feeling of his fists hitting his opponents. However, bullying the weak in numbers was the thing that made him the most unhappy. Whoever made him unhappy, he would always find a way to make them even more unhappy.

"Stop!" Yang Ning shouted, hoping to startle them and gain the upper hand.

However, his voice was weak and lacked the authority he had hoped for.

Although his shout did not have the earth-shattering effect he imagined, it did make the few men stop and turn to look at him.

Yang Ning then saw that the men who were beating the person were not much cleaner than the one on the ground. They were all disheveled and dirty, with tattered clothes, looking like beggars.

"Xiao... Xiao Diaor!" A young man with hair like a Beatle saw Yang Ning stagger to his feet and showed a look of surprise.

Yang Ning felt his body was somewhat weak, but he ignored it and said coldly, "A real man should fight one-on-one. What's the point of bullying the weak in numbers?"

The Beatle-like man sized up Yang Ning, then slowly walked over and suddenly laughed, "You little brat, you're actually not dead?" He walked up to Yang Ning and reached out a hand to put it on Yang Ning's shoulder.

Seeing the hand coming, Yang Ning instinctively reached out and grabbed the wrist. Before the other man could react, Yang Ning stepped aside, twisted the arm behind the man's back, and pressed down on the upper arm. There was a crisp "crack" and the Beatle-like man let out a scream of pain. His arm hung limply, and he clutched his shoulder, beads of cold sweat appearing on his forehead, his face turning pale.

This kind of unarmed combat was Yang Ning's forte. It took little effort to dislocate the man's arm.

The Beatle-like man screamed, his arm hanging limp, and he clutched his shoulder, beads of cold sweat appearing on his forehead, his face turning pale.

The other men looked at each other. Two of the beggars each picked up a stick and approached Yang Ning from either side.

Yang Ning smiled faintly and glanced at the ground. There was indeed a wooden stick by his feet. He kicked it up and grabbed it.

With a loud cry, the two men swung their sticks at Yang Ning from both sides.

Yang Ning sneered and swung his stick like lightning. In his years of military training, one of the skills he learned was to use anything as a weapon. Although the two men came at him fiercely, they were nothing to Yang Ning. If not for his weak body, he could have easily taken them down with his bare hands.

Now, with a stick in hand, he had no reason to be at a disadvantage.

With two "clack" sounds, the sticks were deflected. Yang Ning took a step to the side, delivered a heavy punch to one man's face, and kicked the other in the groin. Both men screamed in pain, one falling to the ground, the other dropping his stick and covering his bleeding nose.

Yang Ning shook his head. The opponents were too weak, giving him no sense of achievement.

Yang Ning looked up and saw another man holding a stick, staring at him in shock.

Yang Ning raised his arm, pointing the stick at the last man and said, "Come on, it's your turn!"

His stiff and weak body felt more comfortable after this activity.

The man looked at his companions, his hand holding the stick trembling. Suddenly, he threw the stick to the ground and said with a forced smile, "Xiao Diaor, I... I won't fight you...!"

"Xiao Diaor?" Yang Ning was taken aback. This was the second time he had heard this name. "What's Xiao Diaor?" He took a few steps forward with the stick.

The man was taken aback. Seeing the stick still pointing at him, he said pitifully, "Xiao Diaor, this... this wasn't my idea, I... I was forced...!" He pointed to the Beatle-like man, "It... it was Monkey, it was all Monkey's idea...!"

Yang Ning glanced at the Beatle-like man, frowned, and realized something. He looked down at himself and his face changed.

He had been puzzled by the ragged clothes of the others, but now he saw that his own clothes were even worse, tattered and dirty, exposing large areas of skin covered in grime.

He looked around. This was a very dim place, with peeling walls. There was a pile of firewood nearby, and the sound of rain dripping through the thatched roof could be heard.

Damn!

Yang Ning was sure he was dreaming, but this dream seemed too real.

"Xiao Diaor, you... you're alive?" A surprised and joyful voice came from the man who had been beaten. Despite his bruised and swollen face, his joy was evident.

Seeing that face, Yang Ning felt a sudden dizziness. At that moment, many scenes flashed through his mind, and the face before him became crystal clear.

What exactly happened? Where is this place?

The man looked to be in his forties or fifties, thin and weak, with an open shirt revealing a gaunt chest and visible ribs.

The unfamiliar surroundings made Yang Ning look at his hands. The stick fell from his hand.

This hand... clearly wasn't his. Although it had some calluses like his, it was much smaller.

Yang Ning, shocked, touched his face. He was very familiar with his own face, but this clearly wasn't his. This face was much thinner, and the features seemed not fully developed, completely different from his own sharp and somewhat three-dimensional face.

Yang Ning's legs gave out, and he sat down, his mind in a daze.

The beaten elder, seeing Yang Ning's state, asked worriedly, "Xiao Diaor, what... what's wrong with you?"

Yang Ning suddenly looked up and beckoned to the man he hadn't hit. The man hesitated but finally approached nervously.

"Is my name Xiao Diaor?" Yang Ning asked, staring at the man.

The man immediately nodded.

"Where is this place?" Yang Ning asked his second question.

The man quickly replied, "This is the land temple in the western part of the city."

"Land temple?" Yang Ning couldn't help but look around again, thinking how miserable this land god must be. "Why am I here? You said the western part of the city... which city?"

"Huize City!" The man immediately said, "It's about a hundred miles north to the Huai River. Xiao... Xiao Diaor, you... you don't remember? You came to the city half a year ago, and then Fang Lao Da took you into the Beggar Gang. You're a disciple of the Beggar Gang now."

"Wait a minute!" Yang Ning was shocked, "Beggar Gang? What do you mean?" He looked at the men's clothes and felt a sinking heart, "You mean, you're all beggars?"

"You are too." The man kindly reminded him, "We're all disciples of the Beggar Gang." He looked at Yang Ning with sympathy and asked, "Xiao Diaor, are you... are you sick and have forgotten everything?"

"Beggar Gang? Xiao Diaor? Huize City?" Yang Ning pinched his arm, feeling the pain, and his face turned serious, "Damn, is this... is this a穿越 (穿越 means '穿越' in Chinese, which translates to '穿越' in English, but it's a term used for 'time travel' or '穿越' in the context of a story where the protagonist is transported to another time or world)?"

"穿越 (穿越)?" The man asked humbly, "What does that mean?"

Yang Ning said irritably, "Never mind what it means. I'll ask you, that...!" He pointed to the man still holding his shoulder, "Is he called Monkey? What did he suggest?"

"This...!" The man glanced at Monkey, weighing the strength of both sides, and then said, "Monkey thought you were going to die and forced Old Bark to leave the land temple. Xiao Diaor... I didn't agree with this, but if I didn't, he would have kicked me out too."

"Old Bark?" Yang Ning looked at the old beggar, and many scenes flashed through his mind, including the old beggar feeding him. He stood up and went to help the injured Old Bark, his voice much softer, "You... you're Old Bark? You've been taking care of me?"

Old Bark's eyes were full of joy. He touched Yang Ning, who was uncomfortable with an old beggar touching him but knew it was out of concern and couldn't refuse. He felt Old Bark's hands trembling, and his voice was full of concern, "Xiao Diaor, it's good that you're awake, the heavens have eyes...!"

Yang Ning wasn't concerned about whether the heavens had eyes or not; he was only concerned about his current living environment.

"You thought I was going to die, so you wanted to kick this poor old man out of this shelter during a storm?" Yang Ning felt his decision to intervene was absolutely correct. Looking at the bruised and swollen Old Bark, his voice turned cold, "Come over, all of you, and apologize to Old Bark. If he forgives you, it's over. Otherwise...!"

"No, no, it's... it's all over...!" Old Bark quickly said.

Yang Ning ignored him and pointed to Monkey, whose arm he had dislocated, "You, come over...!"

Monkey, in pain, saw Yang Ning's cold gaze and dared not disobey. He moved to Old Bark and lowered his head, "Old Bark, I... I was wrong, you...!"

"What?" Yang Ning said calmly, "What are you saying? I didn't hear clearly."

"Old Bark, I was heartless, I... I was wrong, you... you are a great person, forgive me this time...!" By the time he finished, cold sweat was dripping from Monkey's forehead.

Monkey's words made the others hesitate no longer. They all came over, "Old Bark, we... we were confused for a moment, don't hold it against us, in the future... we won't treat you like this...!"

Old Bark, used to being bullied, was at a loss when he saw the men kneeling and apologizing. He could only say, "Get up, it's... it's all over...!"

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