Great Tang.
Third Year of Tianwu.
Dragon Capital, Zhenbei Prison.
The little prison guard Jiang Feng, as usual, was distributing rations to the prisoners in the very front section of the first floor.
This Zhenbei Prison, inside and out, had three levels in total.
Jiang Feng's job was simple: take care of the food for the prisoners in the first row of thirty cells.
Whenever mealtime arrived, someone would bring down a huge barrel of rice porridge and a large bowl of pickles.
All Jiang Feng had to do was push the wooden cart, ladle out porridge and pickles for the prisoners in each of the thirty cells, just making sure none would starve to death.
Don't go thinking this is a cushy job.
Truth is, in this Zhenbei Prison where dragons and snakes intermingle, if you try to get a little extra by skimping or giving a bit more porridge, trying to intimidate prisoners, you'll likely end up in a heap of trouble within days.
You can never guarantee whether those seemingly harmless or cunning prisoners have terrifying backgrounds hidden behind them.
As a little prison guard,
to protect himself,
Jiang Feng always stuck to four main principles:
Don't ask about their backgrounds or what crimes they've committed.
Don't listen to flowery words, complaints or pleas of injustice.
Don't concern yourself with court politics or the happenings in the martial world.
Don't accept gold, silver, jewelry, divine skills or techniques.
He pushed the wooden cart.
Distributed porridge and pickles from cell number one to cell thirty, and by the time he got to the thirtieth cell, the rice porridge in the barrel was almost gone—but if he poured it all out, it could still fill a bowl.
Jiang Feng does everything fairly.
He always made sure everyone's meals were just about the same.
In the thirtieth cell sat a scruffy old man, who'd been here for more than three months and never had a visitor. Nobody knew what he'd done. Usually, he sat in his cell scribbling on the floor with a stone.
What he wrote or drew, Jiang Feng didn't pay attention to, nor did he want to; after serving the food, he'd always leave in a hurry.
He filled the bowl to the brim, and added two spoonfuls of pickles on top.
Stretched his hand in, passing it into the cell.
The old man inside took it with both hands, then, right in front of Jiang Feng, began wolfing down the big bowl of porridge as fast as he could.
He did this every time, as if he spent each day starving, just waiting for this bowl of porridge.
Jiang Feng was used to it, no longer bothered to see whether the old man was truly starving.
Suddenly.
He felt something extra in his hand.
In his palm appeared a Guanyin Jade Pendant, along with a strip of cloth filled with writing.
"I know nothing, I want nothing! If there's grievance, let the debtor answer for it—turn left at the gate for the government office!"
Jiang Feng jumped in fright, silently reciting to himself.
He didn't care how much the jade pendant was worth or what was written on the cloth; purely on reflex, he tossed everything on the ground, pushed the wooden cart away at full speed, as if he'd been scared witless.
"Hrk!"
The old man belched after finishing the bowl, just put it down, and saw the jade pendant and cloth lying in front of him.
He was stunned for a good while.
He'd been locked up for a few months now.
On the surface, he ignored everyone.
But in reality, every day he schemed ways to rescue himself.
How could he get word out about being locked up in Zhenbei Prison, maybe get someone outside to come save him? After observing so many prison guards, he decided Jiang Feng was the most honest and reliable.
He reckoned, fifty percent chance he could successfully bribe Jiang Feng to send the message out.
Thirty percent, Jiang Feng might just pocket the jade pendant and walk off.
Twenty percent, Jiang Feng might take the evidence straight to his superiors to snitch for credit.
He just never considered Jiang Feng might dump both the jade pendant and scrap of cloth on the ground, acting as if he'd never been given anything.
"Doesn't know what's good for him!"
He muttered a curse, picked up his things, and went back to scribbling furiously with the stone.
This squeaking sound was sharper than usual, almost like he was venting something inside.
Jiang Feng parked the wooden cart at the door to the workroom.
"Want me to share your risk? Not a chance."
Back in the workroom, he finally exhaled.
Then pulled up the information panel only he could see.
Name: Jiang Feng
Fortune: 160
Cultivation Technique: Prison Guard Health Care Skill (Beginner+)
Skills: Prison Guard Long Fist (Beginner+)
Realm: None
Divine Power: Immortality
"Whew, that was close."
"My Fortune Points actually jumped by 115 in an instant."
"To think that in the three months since I transmigrated, my Fortune Points have only ever totaled 45."
"If I had taken the jade pendant and helped that old man, I'd probably be dead meat."
Looking at his panel updates, Jiang Feng felt a lingering fear.
He was a transmigrator, his soul had crossed over from Earth.
The original owner was a little prison guard in Zhenbei Prison, also called Jiang Feng.
Because he'd overheard a prisoner letting slip a recipe for improving martial prowess, tried making it for himself and ended up poisoning himself to death—allowing Jiang Feng's soul the chance to cross over.
He'd fused with the original owner's memories.
Thus, Jiang Feng gained the Longevity Dao Seed.
A gift that granted him immortality—so long as he could successfully avoid danger or solve it, he'd earn Fortune Points.
As for danger, it could be untriggered, impending, or currently underway.
For example:
If family or friends attracted trouble that would soon drag him in, and he avoided it; or if he got entangled because of work but managed to resolve the crisis.
Or if confronted with mortal danger, he broke through or fled via martial power, and so on.
So long as it's not danger he went seeking himself!
Be it the punishment of the Celestial Dao, or the evil thoughts of a small fry—even if it hasn't happened yet—if it implicates Jiang Feng and he dodges or cracks it,
Jiang Feng gets Fortune Points.
And those Fortune Points can be added to skills and cultivation techniques; the higher the number, the greater the skill and cultivation level—the realm and power rise accordingly.
So Jiang Feng's code in life is to avoid stirring up trouble.
Carry out the "Four Don'ts" to the very end.
Better to swallow indignity than chase fortune and glory.
Of course, once he's strong enough, Jiang Feng fully intends to live it up.
For now, he needs to master the art of low-key survival and keep his head down.
After all, the Longevity Dao Seed grants him immortality, but not invincibility.
As long as he's given enough time, whatever others have, Jiang Feng will have too one day; whatever others lack, Jiang Feng may one day possess.
"Waited three months, and finally there's a plus sign behind Health Cultivation Skill and Long Fist. No idea how much power this hundred-sixty Fortune Points can add. Let's try it, add eighty Fortune Points to the Health Cultivation Skill and see what happens."
Jiang Feng willed it, eighty Fortune Points automatically went into Health Cultivation Skill.
In an instant, Jiang Feng felt a warm current rush through his whole body.
The panel updated accordingly.
Name: Jiang Feng
Fortune: 80
Cultivation Technique: Prison Guard Health Care Skill (Beginner)
Skills: Prison Guard Long Fist (Beginner+)
Realm: Ninth Grade (Skin Refining)
Divine Power: Immortality
"I actually became a Grade-Entering Martial Artist!"
"Fortune Points really are the real deal!"
Seeing the new info, Jiang Feng couldn't hide his excitement.
He knew in Great Tang, as long as you become a Grade-Entering Martial Artist, in commoner's eyes you're instantly a cut above, taking the first step from carp to dragon.
Eligible for civil or martial exams and more.
The higher your grade, the higher you're valued, maybe even ennobled or appointed minister.
The original owner died chasing this dream of breaking into Entry Grade Martial Artist.
But martial artists are split into the Upper Three Grades, Middle Three Grades, and Lower Three Grades.
Ninth Grade is the lowest of the Lower Three Grades.
Jiang Feng is still way too weak, so he quickly calmed himself.
He noticed the plus sign hadn't disappeared behind Prison Guard Long Fist (Beginner).
Immediately, he put eighty Fortune Points into it.
The panel info changed again.