Chapter Two: Chaoyang Town

Ever since Lin Yanghao learned that cultivators and martial artists existed on this continent, he had harbored a deep longing to become one of them. In his heart, he resolved that, at the very least, he must become a martial artist if not a cultivator; anything would be better than living a muddled life as he had in his previous existence. With this thought, a look of determination appeared on his face. He didn’t know exactly how powerful these cultivators and martial artists were, but he was certain they were beings capable of shaking the heavens and the earth.

As for the reason this body’s previous owner had died, it turned out he had offended the village bully, Tian Ergou, who beat him severely. With no one to care for or treat his injuries, he passed away within a few days. Thus, Lin Yanghao was able to take over his body. Now, Lin Yanghao secretly swore to avenge him, to repay the debt owed for the use of this body. Unbeknownst to him, a lingering resentment within the body dissipated at that moment.

He jumped off the bed and stood before the mirror, discovering that this young boy’s complexion was pale, likely due to malnutrition. He stood a little over one meter thirty in height, yet his features were rather handsome, though a few bruises remained on his body—the obvious handiwork of Tian Ergou. All in all, Lin Yanghao was quite satisfied with this body. Though he wasn’t tall, he was only twelve years old and had plenty of time to grow. What he didn’t know yet was that, for his age on this continent, his height was already quite impressive—a fact he would only realize later, feeling fortunate.

Just then, as he raised his left hand, he was startled. On his ring finger was a ring he had worn since childhood. Perhaps out of habit, he hadn’t felt it on his finger until now, this antique ring of intricate design.

This ring was a family heirloom, passed down through three generations. When he was born, it was treasured as the family's greatest possession. His father, overjoyed at the birth of an heir, had immediately given the ring to Lin Yanghao, who had worn it ever since.

“Could it be you who saved me?” he asked the ring, a glimmer of understanding dawning in his heart. “I don’t know if my rebirth is related to you, but I am certain you must have something to do with it.”

At that moment, his stomach grumbled, demanding attention. Ignoring the ring’s mysteries for now—answers would come in time—he went to the kitchen, only to find the rice jar cleaner than his own face and the cupboards completely empty, save for a few forlorn vegetable leaves on the stove. Driven by hunger, he decided to venture outside town in search of food.

Upon leaving his house, he found himself in a small mountain village. His home consisted of a single thatched hut, a kitchen, and a small courtyard nestled within the village.

From the body’s memories, he learned that this was Little River Village, located in Chaoyang Town, which in turn belonged to Quanzhou within the Great Han Empire. Beyond this, the body’s memories offered little else.

After leaving the village, Lin Yanghao headed eastward. To the east lay the town’s marketplace, and beyond that, the outskirts led to the nearby Chaoyang Mountains.

“Chaoyang Mountains! Let’s go. There are plenty of birds and beasts in the mountains—soon, I’ll be feasting to my heart’s content!” Lin Yanghao walked on with anticipation, so hungry that he was practically drooling.

After his daydreams, he hurried toward the marketplace. After a long walk, he finally arrived. Just as he was about to enter, a mocking voice rang out.

“Well, well, Little Lin! You’re not dead? I thought you’d finally kicked the bucket, you little wretch! Ha ha ha!”

“And you are?” Lin Yanghao eyed the short, dark-skinned boy—barely over a meter tall—who looked familiar, though he couldn’t quite recall who it was.

“What, did I beat you stupid? Ha! Last time you got lucky and survived, but next time you won’t be so fortunate. This is the marketplace, so I’ll let you off for now, but just wait until we’re back in the village!” the boy taunted.

“So it’s you!” Lin Yanghao realized this was the very tyrant who’d killed the body’s previous owner—Tian Ergou. He stepped forward, intent on giving the bully a taste of his own medicine, but with Lin Yanghao standing nearly a head taller, Tian Ergou was no match for him.

“Just you wait—this isn’t over!” Tian Ergou shouted before running off.

“Hmph,” Lin Yanghao scoffed dismissively. Why should he fear Tian Ergou, who was shorter and the same age as himself? He had already sworn to avenge the body’s previous owner, and Tian Ergou was now marked as a target for retribution. With that thought, he turned and strode into the marketplace.

Tian Ergou’s arrogance stemmed from being a member of the Tian family’s collateral line. As the only son, he was spoiled beyond measure by his parents, who indulged his every whim.

The Tian family was Chaoyang Town’s most powerful clan, though compared to truly great families, they were insignificant and only tyrannized their small domain. The town’s entire economy was in their grasp, and even the local officials deferred to them. This was because the Tian family was a vassal of the Yang family in Quanzhou, a family ranked among the top ten in the Great Han Empire—an influence that cowed officials and rendered a small town like Chaoyang beneath notice.

The village head of Little River Village was Tian Ergou’s father, which allowed Tian Ergou to bully everyone with impunity. Lin Yanghao’s predecessor had been beaten to death for daring to resist him.

As he wandered through the marketplace, Lin Yanghao eyed the food vendors and the shops lining the streets. His stomach rumbled again, betraying his hunger.

“Hey there, young man! Care for a couple of steamed buns?” called a vendor.

“No, thank you,” Lin Yanghao replied, patting his empty pockets—he didn’t have a single gold coin. He had no choice but to walk on.

“Cheapskate!” the vendor spat after him.

Lin Yanghao didn’t bother to argue, simply chuckling to himself as he left.

On this continent, the standard currency was the gold coin, equivalent to a yuan from his previous life.

“Who would’ve thought gold is so worthless here? If people on Earth knew, they’d call these folks idiots,” he mused wryly.

His stomach growled again. “Looks like I’d better hurry. If I set off now, I should reach the Chaoyang Mountains by afternoon,” he thought. Including the time he’d spent unconscious, he hadn’t eaten in three days—his strength was nearly spent.

Soon, he left town, heading east toward the mountains. After walking for some time, his exhaustion overtook him, and he collapsed by the roadside.

“Miss, a few more days on the road and we’ll reach White Tiger Gate,” a maid said to a young girl in a carriage. The girl, barely in her teens, was exceedingly beautiful, her skin fair and her bearing noble—like a fairy descended to the mortal world.