Chapter One: Awakened by a Lick

A tingling numbness crept over him.

Something damp, a little itchy—what was licking his face?

“Mmm!” Instinctively, Liu Ping wanted to open his eyes, but a splitting headache tore through him. Every bone in his body felt as if it had been shattered and scattered, pain swelling like a tide. He couldn’t help but cry out, then quickly squeezed his eyes shut again.

There really was something wet licking his face. Bracing himself, Liu Ping squinted through the pain. His vision was dim, nothing but black and white, as if watching an old silent film—no color to be seen at all.

Before him stood a small, slender animal with long, thick fur. Its pointed snout and large, upright, triangular ears made it clear: it was a fox. The creature was busily licking Liu Ping’s face and lips, its lively eyes filled with a spirited light. Seeing him awake, it let out a call: “Ah~ woo woo~~”

“Mmm…” The headache still throbbed fiercely, but thankfully the pain in his body began to ease. Rubbing his temples, his vision slowly returned, color seeping back into the world.

“Did I die?” His mind was a jumble of agony and confusion, but he vaguely remembered: he had been unable to stand by, chased after a brazen thief, and was stabbed in the heart in the struggle. Blood poured out, he fell to the ground, cold creeping in as his consciousness slipped into endless darkness—until he awoke here.

But… where was here?

Trying to recall the past, his memories blurred and tangled, everything became a muddled paste, each recollection painfully out of reach.

Suddenly, Liu Ping’s pupils lost focus.

In that instant, images began to flash through his mind—scenes from another person’s life.

The babbling of an infant, the mischief and playfulness of childhood, the long nights spent studying beneath a lamp in youth…

The images finally froze on the age of thirteen. After his studies one day, he had wandered up the mountain to relax, only to see a little fox clinging to dry grass at the edge of a cliff, its legs kicking helplessly, about to tumble over. The boy hurried to the rescue, but lost his footing and went tumbling off the cliff himself.

“Wait… does that mean I’ve transmigrated?” Liu Ping’s headache eased a little, but the sudden realization left him dazed, unable to process it all at once.

Whether he could accept it or not, as the images faded, a torrent of information began to flood his mind.

The owner of this body was also named Liu Ping, a native of Yangzhou, thirteen years old, and had just passed the “Tongsheng” exam.

The so-called Tongsheng referred to scholars not yet admitted to official academies. But the title was not so easily earned: one had to pass two rounds of government examinations, both with success. This required a thorough mastery of the Four Books and Five Classics. To pass at thirteen was no small feat.

With Tongsheng status, one could take the next step and participate in the “Xiucai” imperial examination, held in the autumn and commonly called the “Autumn Test.” Passing that would make him a Xiucai.

In this world, being a Xiucai carried real weight. Even if one never took another exam, one could be appointed a ninth-rank official. Of course, the ceiling was low—at best, one might become a county assistant, and only with extraordinary opportunity would one become a county magistrate. But for someone of this body’s age, thirteen, the advantage over the old and failing repeat-exam candidates was immense—there were plenty of chances ahead. Yet now, a soul from the twenty-first century had taken over, so those opportunities now belonged to Liu Ping instead.

Not that Liu Ping wanted them. The mere thought of those endless classical texts made his head spin!

But since fate had brought him here, he would have to accept it. It was a second chance at life—a rare, once-in-a-lifetime transmigration. He could only grit his teeth and press on.

With eyes closed, he delved carefully into the host’s memories.

This country in this world was called the Great Xia Dynasty—so this wasn’t Earth after all? At first, the examination system had made him think he’d wound up in ancient China, but the presence of familiar cultural figures, like Sage Confucius, made it seem oddly similar to his own world. Was it coincidence, or destiny?

The original Liu Ping came from a family of declining scholars. His father was a Xiucai who had failed repeatedly to advance, and to make a living, he had opened a private school, teaching children to read and write. The family owned a dozen or so acres of land—just enough to scrape by. No wonder the boy had passed the Tongsheng at thirteen; with such a diligent father, he had been well supervised.

There was also a younger sister in the family, adopted, not related by blood, only eleven years old—possibly a future child bride meant for the original Liu Ping. That, at least, was a transmigrator’s perk he could appreciate.

In this world, belief in spirits and deities was widespread, with Daoism and Buddhism flourishing—superstitious nonsense, to his modern, atheistic mind—he dismissed such tales with a sneer.

Gradually, Liu Ping absorbed the last of the memories, and his headache finally vanished. What he didn’t realize was that, as the pain faded, his numerous cuts and bruises were healing at a speed visible to the naked eye, the bloodstains vanishing as well. When he opened his eyes again, a pure white fox, not a single hair out of place, sat obediently before him.

“Wait!” Liu Ping suddenly remembered something and shouted, startling the fox so much that its fur stood on end.

“Damn! I just fell from a cliff—where am I?” Liu Ping looked around. “Is this a cave beneath the cliff? Then how do I get up? How do I get home? Am I going to die here right after transmigrating?”

The more he thought about it, the paler his face became. He hurried to the cave’s entrance and found only a steep cliff below and sheer walls on either side—no path in sight.

“Seriously?” Staring into the abyss below, then looking up at the cliff face, he realized there was no way to climb. “No way…”

“No! Absolutely not… As the saying goes, ‘if you survive a fall from a cliff, fortune awaits.’ A true transmigrator can’t just die here…”

Pep-talking himself, Liu Ping turned back into the cave, where the darkness was absolute.

Gulping down his fear, he waved his hand, and the little fox nimbly leaped onto his palm.

Cradling the fox, he walked into the blackness.

“Adventure, here I come…”

Summoning his courage, he pressed forward, but the darkness grew so thick he couldn’t see his hand before his face. He set the fox on his shoulder and felt along the cave wall—an unnerving experience.

The unknown is always the most frightening. Though a staunch atheist, the eerie atmosphere made fear creep up his spine.

“Hm… I’ll sing to steady my nerves!”

“The great river flows eastward~! The stars in the sky join the Northern Dipper~!”

“If we say go, we go~! You, me, and everyone together~!”

“When injustice appears, we shout aloud~! Strike when the time is right~!”

“Boldly, we roam the nine provinces~!”

He’d originally thought to sing the national anthem, but switched to the Hero Song instead. Howling out the lyrics, he did feel a little braver, the fear receding.

“Eh!” After about half an hour, a sudden cry escaped him—he saw a glimmer of light.

He hurried toward it, parted the tangled vines, and looked around. Instantly, he recognized the foot of the mountain.

“Haha! Heaven never bars one’s way! The ancient adage never lies!” Liu Ping exclaimed with delight, having already forgotten all about the legend of miraculous fortune after surviving a cliff fall.

Following the path in his memory, Liu Ping left the forest and headed for the mountain road.

Just then, a hunter descended from the slopes, caught sight of Liu Ping, and fixed his greedy gaze on the white fox upon his shoulder. He hurried over, calling, “Hey there, young man! Wait, wait!”

Liu Ping stopped and looked at him. “What is it?” This was his first time speaking to someone in this world, and he couldn’t help but feel a little nervous. The hunter’s next words, though, filled him with rage.

“That fox on your shoulder—sell it to me, and I’ll give you a meal! All you can eat! How about it?” The hunter eyed Liu Ping’s torn clothes, scuffed from his fall, and, after a moment’s thought, made his offer.

Liu Ping frowned, thinking, Does this guy take me for a beggar? So what if my clothes are torn? Can’t he sense the kingly aura of a transmigrator? Truly blind to greatness!

The little fox on his shoulder seemed to understand the conversation and clung tightly to his clothes, eyes brimming with distress. Liu Ping didn’t notice, but he had no intention of selling it regardless. He answered curtly, “No, thank you.”

He turned to leave, but the hunter grew anxious. That pure white fox pelt could fetch dozens of taels of silver if raised to maturity—a tidy sum. He couldn’t let it slip away so easily.

The hunter blocked his path and scowled. “Don’t be ungrateful, boy!” Without further ado, he reached for the fox.

Liu Ping reacted swiftly, knocking the hand aside with a shout: “How dare you!”

The outburst startled the hunter, and Liu Ping pressed his advantage, his voice sharp: “Do you know who I am? I am the son of Mr. Liu in Liu Village! I’ve already passed the Tongsheng exam this year—come autumn, I’ll be a Xiucai. If you act up again, I’ll see your legs broken!”

The stern warning did the trick. This wasn’t some lawless wilderness, after all. The hunter, cowed, dropped to his knees in fear. “I—I didn’t know your standing, sir! Please forgive me—please forgive me!”

“This time, I’ll let it go. Next time, be smarter—don’t lose your future over a few taels of silver!” With a wave of his sleeve, Liu Ping turned and strode away.

As he walked the mountain road, Liu Ping felt no pride at his recent triumph.

Instead, the affair made him keenly aware of the rigid hierarchies in this world.

Yes, the hunter’s ignorance was mostly to blame, but it still said a great deal.

“Ah… without climbing higher, how can one live with dignity?”

He sighed, muttering to himself as he continued on. Suddenly, a voice called out by the roadside—

“What an astonishing fate… Young friend, wait, wait!”

Liu Ping turned. There, smiling with narrowed eyes, stood an old Daoist priest, long-bearded and serene, approaching with a gentle gait.