Chapter 1

### 1182年7月，晨。

Rainwater continuously dripped from the eaves.

The droplets hit the ground, shattered, and splashed, some flying into the air, others landing on the brown wall corners.

Beside the wall under the eaves, two people were standing at that moment.

One was a young man, thin and no more than a teenager, his face flushed, wearing a light blue Daoist robe that had been washed until it was almost white.

His black long hair was tied into a Daoist bun, with a wooden, brown crescent moon crown inserted. The edges of the wooden crown were rough and unpolished.

Standing opposite him was a beautiful woman, wearing a veil, with bright eyes and fair skin.

The woman had a slender figure, dressed in a plain white dress that reached only to the middle of her thighs, exposing her fair skin. She wore brown leather boots that reached her knees, and around her waist, she had a green leather belt made of jade.

"Rongfang, I might have to go to the capital soon, and in the future... I may not be able to visit you often." The woman's voice was soft and clear, as pure as mountain spring water.

"You promised me you wouldn't go to see Duma Lan again!" The young man gritted his teeth, almost speaking through clenched jaws.

"I did promise you," the woman nodded, "so the person I'm following now is not Duma Lan."

She sighed lightly and turned her head to look at the dense forest outside the eaves.

In the dark green forest mixed with brown, the wind blew, causing the branches to sway continuously.

The rustling sound of the leaves and the pattering of the raindrops mixed together, indistinguishable from each other.

"To survive in this world and not be bullied, one must do everything possible to climb higher. Don't you understand this yet?" the woman said softly.

"I don't want to be like this, but what else can I use as a bargaining chip besides my beauty? At the very least, I am luckier than other ordinary women, at least I still have a chance to turn things around!"

She opened a small bag from her waist, took out a light yellow oil paper package, and handed it to the young man.

"Our parents passed away early, and now only the two of us are left to rely on each other. Rongfang, this is what I've saved over the past few years, take it..." She handed him the oil paper package.

Over the past few years, after she had come to terms with it, the woman sold herself at a reasonable price to ensure the safety and well-being of her brother and herself.

Moreover, in this package, there was something her brother had wanted for a long time.

Thinking of this, she instinctively touched the back of her thigh through her dress, feeling the pain.

To get that thing, she had given up her dignity and become someone's plaything.

But it was worth it.

With this money and that thing, it should be enough for her brother to live well for many years after she left...

"Take it, you can rest assured, I will definitely make sure we can live a good life..."

Slap!!

The young man slapped the oil paper package hard.

The oil paper package was knocked away, rolling in the rain, and landed on the wet, muddy ground, scattering a stack of bills and copper coins of various sizes.

"Who the hell wants your dirty money!" The young man shouted, raising his head, "Do you think no one will know if you don't say anything? Do you think having money means you can live a good life? Do you think no one knows what you do all day? Do you know what people say about you behind your back?!"

"You know nothing! You must be having a great time being played with, right? You have no shame, but I still have some!"

"What did our parents teach us? Have you forgotten everything?"

"I, Zhang Rongfang, will no longer recognize you as my sister from now on!! Take your dirty money and get lost!!"

Slap!!

He slapped the woman hard. Turning around, he walked away and soon disappeared into the depths of the forest, drenched in the rain.

The woman was stunned for a moment, her right cheek turning red and slowly swelling. But she didn't have time to think about it, and quickly rushed out from under the eaves, running towards the package that had been knocked away, and squatted down to pick up the bills from the ground.

She picked them up carefully, but unfortunately, the rain and mud, combined with the impact on the ground, had already made most of the older bills blurry and torn.

These torn and blurry bills were no longer usable and had to be discarded. This meant that most of her previous efforts were wasted...

As she picked them up, water droplets suddenly fell onto the back of her hand, but these droplets didn't seem to be raindrops.

Tears blurred her vision, and her hands were covered in mud.

"It's not his fault, he's still young and doesn't understand... He doesn't know the importance of money. In the future, in the future, he will..."

She didn't finish her sentence, just wrapped the money and items back into the oil paper package, squatted there, drenched in the rain, her voice choked with sobs, muttering to herself, not knowing what to say.

*

*

*

### 1183年2月，大灵。

Pingyu Road, Huaxin County, Qinghe Palace.

Cross-shaped red flowers swayed in the wind on the trees, and a drop of dew slid from the tip of a petal.

The dewdrop fell, sliding down the ten-meter-high tree, and lightly splashed onto a person's cheek.

The Daoist reached up to rub his face, closed his eyes, and lifted the yellow gourd in his hand, sniffing at the mouth of it.

"A gourd of spring drunk on the海棠洲, a gourd of fragrance before it's even drunk, this wine truly lives up to its reputation as a famous gourd wine... Just the smell makes one feel refreshed!"

He looked intoxicated and sighed. He tilted his head back, pretending to drink from the empty gourd, imagining that it was full of fine wine.

In front of the Daoist was a square black-and-white Taiji diagram training ground, surrounded by white walls and lined with flower trees.

A dozen young Daoists were sitting cross-legged on the training ground, reciting scriptures.

"Broken bamboo should be mended with bamboo, a chicken should be hatched with an egg. All other methods are futile, only true lead contains the holy mechanism...."

The young Daoists recited the scriptures in a singing tone, accompanied by two Daoists, one holding a ritual bell (a hand-held bell used in Daoist rituals) and the other playing a small drum, responding to each other in harmony.

In a corner, a young Daoist with slightly dark skin and a thin build was moving his mouth but making no sound.

Clearly, he was just mouthing the words.

He wore a deep blue Daoist robe and a wooden crescent moon crown on his head, his face expressionless.

On the surface, he was participating in the chorus, but in reality, his mind was a blank.

Having been in this world for over ten days, Zhang Rongfang was still dazed and had not adapted to life here.

One night, he simply closed his eyes and, when he opened them again, he was in a different place.

Over the past ten days, Zhang Rongfang had quietly gathered various information and had a rough understanding of the situation here.

This was a vast country called Daling.

The region he was in was a medium-sized Daoist temple in the western mountains of Daling.

The temple was called Qinghe Palace, a square palace where over a hundred Daoists lived.

Zhang Rongfang was one of them.

The Daoists had morning and evening prayers, recited scriptures, and did various chores. Occasionally, some Daoists practiced Daoist techniques.

However...

After careful inquiry, Zhang Rongfang learned that the Daoist techniques in this world had no exaggerated effects; they were mainly created for longevity and health maintenance.

There were no magical spells, no strange treasures, and no flying on swords.

The only benefit of practicing Daoist techniques here was good health, fewer diseases, and the occasional ability to heal others, which was essentially what people called qigong therapy....

After meeting a few high-ranking Daoists in the palace, who were said to have deep Daoist skills, Zhang Rongfang had completely given up hope.

Decades of practice had only made these old Daoists healthy, with rosy faces, fast runners, and strong voices, with no other special abilities.

After the morning prayer and the recitation of the Qi-forging scripture, the Daoists sat quietly for a moment before rising at the sound of the bell.

"Those going to the kitchen, move quickly. A noble guest is visiting this morning, so everyone should be on their best behavior, not lazy as usual," the senior brother in charge of the morning prayer shouted, holding a duster in his hand.

"Even if we go early, we can't start the fire; the firewood is almost gone and hasn't been replenished. Calling, calling, all day long, the master hasn't even said anything," a white, fat Daoist muttered under his breath.

The fat Daoist looked at Zhang Rongfang.

"Old Fang, why don't you help me with it? I'll give you this much." He held up his index finger.

"Ten coins?" Zhang Rongfang understood, "No, I have something to do today."

"Oh, you're going to the letter room to get a letter, right?" The fat Daoist, named Pang Zhong, laughed.

But there seemed to be a different meaning in his smile.

Zhang Rongfang ignored him.

After coming to this world, he had inherited some of his predecessor's memories, knowing that his parents had died and he had a sister, but his sister had gone to the distant capital and they had lost contact.

Moreover, it seemed that he had left home on his own and come to Qinghe Palace to become a Daoist, which led to the loss of contact.

He left the training ground and followed the side corridor, heading towards the letter room.

The corridor was in the shape of a square, connecting three training grounds.

On one of the training grounds, a few pairs of Daoists, dressed in Daoist robes and with their legs and arms tied, were practicing combat with each other.

Zhang Rongfang glanced at them from a distance. The Daoists were practicing ordinary martial arts, with no internal energy. They were only slightly more powerful than ordinary people, with no other abnormalities.

A black line flashed in his eyes, and suddenly, a row of game-like attribute data appeared above the heads of the Daoists in the field.

'Wang Ying — Health 11-15, Skill: Spring Purification Talisman — Seventh Mountain Type Talisman.'

'Xie Zhao — Health 12-13, Skill: Spring Purification Talisman — Fifth Primordial Talisman.'

'Chen Dasheng — Health 11-14, Skill: Spring Purification Talisman — Seventh Mountain Type Talisman.'

The information of each Daoist appeared in Zhang Rongfang's eyes.

He looked down at himself.

'Zhang Rongfang — Health 8-9, Skill: None. Available Attributes: 0.'

There were small yellow plus signs after his health and skills, indicating that, like in the games he played in his previous life, these attributes could be forcibly increased using attribute points.

This ability seemed very game-like, but Zhang Rongfang preferred to see it as a kind of mutation ability.

This ability did not appear from the beginning but gradually developed as he learned more about the outside world and collected more information.

Names, health, and skills all came from this process.

Moreover, this world did not seem like a game because it was too real.

After over ten days of thinking, analyzing, collecting data, and testing, Zhang Rongfang discovered that the only way to increase attributes was to eat.

The better the food and the more nutritious it was, the faster the attribute points accumulated.

He had already tested this and gained one attribute point, which he added to his health, raising it from 7-8 to 8-9.

In Qinghe Palace, where the average health of ordinary Daoists was 8-9, Zhang Rongfang had finally reached the average level.

He quickly found a small room as he passed through the corridor.

The room was a wooden house built at the entrance of the corridor, filled with various letters and packages, guarded by an old Daoist with half-closed eyes.

The old Daoist was leaning against the wall, smoking a pipe.

"Xu Brother, I need to collect my letter," Zhang Rongfang bowed.

Xu Lao reached behind him, pulled out a package, opened it, and took out a rough, light yellow envelope.

Zhang Rongfang took it, bowed again, and turned to walk towards the dormitory area where the disciples lived.

As he walked, he tore open the envelope's wax seal and pulled out the letter.

The letter contained only a small line of text and a small denomination bill, which read 100 coins.

The sender was Xiaolongju, a brothel.