Chapter 1

The sun was scorching, a massive fireball in the sky that seemed to be roasting people alive.

Ren Bāqiān knelt on the ground, sweat streaming down his forehead, his bald scalp reflecting the light as if it had been waxed.

It wasn't that he didn't want to move; two swords were pressed against his neck, making him dare not make the slightest move.

He himself didn't know what had happened, how it had come to this.

Just looking at the people around him, dressed in ancient styles but different from those of any historical dynasty, made him guess that he was probably not on Earth anymore.

Three minutes ago, Ren Bāqiān was still in his rented room, wearing shorts and a tank top, surfing the internet while eating instant noodles. The next second, he found himself here, one hand holding the bowl of noodles, the other holding chopsticks, and the chair he was sitting on still beneath him.

But the environment was completely different.

All the familiar things were gone, and he found himself in the middle of a road, with military formations marching on both sides.

His sudden appearance had startled those people.

A chorus of shouts and the sound of swords being drawn.

Then two swords were pressed against his neck.

After that, he was kneeling here, and the bowl of noodles, now mixed with dirt, was about half a meter away, still emitting a tempting aroma.

He wasn't thinking about the dignity of a man's knees. Or rather, the burly soldiers around him, the gleaming weapons in their hands, and the stern atmosphere of the military formation had almost left his mind blank.

He seemed to be in the middle of a marching formation? When he fell, he landed right in the middle of the marching formation?

"Who are you?" A man in armor, standing two meters tall, stood in front of him. His small eyes were full of cold light, and Ren Bāqiān suspected that if he said the wrong word, the man would cut him down with a single stroke.

"Ren Bāqiān!" Ren Bāqiān didn't know what to say. His mind was a blank, and he blurted out his name subconsciously.

"Why are you here?"

"I don't know!" Ren Bāqiān said with a mournful face. If crying could change his current situation, he would have cried loudly for the other to see.

"Cut him down!"

At the sound of these two words, Ren Bāqiān's soul almost fled. He felt the two swords on his neck move, and the next second, he would lose his head. He roared, "Stop!"

Ren Bāqiān had never thought he could make such a loud noise.

The man waved his hand, stopping the two swords that were about to fall.

"What else do you have to say?"

Ren Bāqiān could feel the wind from the two swords, which made his neck slightly painful.

His mind raced, the scent of death pressing down on him, making it hard to breathe. The man's tone confirmed that he was serious about cutting him down. Not to mention the two swords raised behind him.

"I, I want to see your superior. I know writing, mathematics, farming, and smelting. I am a talent, and I have come to offer my services."

Ren Bāqiān quickly shouted out all the skills he could think of, looking at the man hopefully, hoping to change his mind.

The soldier looked down at him, and Ren Bāqiān saw the smile on his lips, but it looked more like a sneer.

"Cut him down."

"Stop, I haven't finished speaking." Ren Bāqiān's soul almost fled again. Did this soldier only know the words "cut him down"?

"What happened? Why did you stop marching?" A woman's voice suddenly came from the back of the formation. A woman in armor rode up on a horse and asked sternly.

"Wait a moment." The general waved his hand again, stopping the two swords behind Ren Bāqiān.

He turned to the back of the formation, clasped his hands, and said, "Report to the general, this person suddenly fell from the sky into our formation while we were marching. I suspect he is an assassin and was about to behead him as a warning."

"I am not an assassin, I am a talent! A real talent, please don't kill me." Ren Bāqiān shouted at the top of his lungs. At this moment, he had no chance to defend himself; he might lose his head in the next second. The only thing he could think of to increase his chances of survival was the word "talent."

Even if the other side didn't care about talent, it would at least pique their curiosity and make them listen to what he had to say.

Throughout history, talents have always been treated with some favor.

And Ren Bāqiān asked himself, he did have some abilities. At least he had studied math, physics, and chemistry, and knew a lot of miscellaneous things. He could find something to interest them, right?

"Shut up!" The soldier turned and kicked Ren Bāqiān in the chest, sending him flying and lying on the ground, gasping for breath, almost thinking he was about to die.

The female general rode up to Ren Bāqiān and looked down at him, saying, "Take him to the side of the road and check the surroundings. If there are no problems, continue marching. I will report to the emperor."

"Yes." The soldier said, then added, "Drag him to the side of the road and send a team to check the surroundings."

Ren Bāqiān was dragged to the side of the road like a dead dog. At this moment, he didn't have time to resent the kick; he was looking around, trying to figure out how to save his life.

Surrounded by soldiers with swords and spears, escape was impossible. He would probably be beheaded in two steps.

Did the female general just say "emperor"? Was she referring to the emperor?

He needed to think about how to save his life.

First, he needed to figure out how he got here. The conclusion was—unknown.

But he knew he had landed right in the middle of a marching formation, which was incredibly unlucky. Even if he had landed in a forest, his chances of survival would have been higher. Not being hacked to death the moment they saw him was already good luck.

Second, these people spoke the same language as him, which was a stroke of luck in an unfortunate situation. Otherwise, he would have been beheaded and thrown to the side of the road to feed wild animals.

Looking at their clothing, it was indeed different from any dynasty he knew. It didn't look like ancient China, so it must be another world?

It seemed they were in a feudal society, with low productivity. He still had many things in his mind that could be valuable in this world.

And he knew a lot of "poetry, novels, and things to eat and play with," which could make him a valuable courtier.

He had to find a way to let the "emperor" know his value to save his life.

Ren Bāqiān knelt by the roadside, his mind in chaos. The formation continued marching after checking, and he saw a large cart approaching in the distance.

The wheels rolled on the dirt road, making a dull sound.

But what was pulling the cart??

Ren Bāqiān stared at the creature in front of the cart, with a lion's head, deer's antlers, tiger's eyes, deer's body, dragon scales, and a cow's tail, standing at least two meters tall. His eyes widened: "Is this a qilin? A living qilin? Pulling a cart?"

He had thought he had arrived in a world similar to ancient China, but how could a qilin appear? And pulling a cart?

Damn, had he arrived in a high-martial world?

A world where people could destroy the heavens and earth with a single punch, shattering mountains and seas?

Thinking of this, Ren Bāqiān's face turned even paler.