「Western Calendar 1665, May.」
「Yuehai Province, Celestial Sea Prefecture, Upper River District.」
In a small adobe bungalow, the furniture was simple and worn. The only thing that could be called a decoration was a yellowed poster on the wall. On it, a woman in a qipao with lips as red as fire smiled like a blooming flower, a style characteristic of the Huaxia Republic era.
Inside, Zhao Qi sat on a creaking wooden bed, his lean upper body bare. His body was covered in bruises, his skin sallow, his eyes rimmed with dark purple circles, and his lips pale. He looked extremely weak.
His stomach was slightly bloated, rumbling as it rapidly digested the meal he'd just swallowed: five jin of rice, three jin of pork, one jin of vegetables, five eggs, and a large bowl of sugar water.
About fifteen minutes later, the digestive rumbling stopped.
Food is the source of the body's nourishment.
The vast quantity of food was efficiently absorbed by Zhao Qi's digestive system, and a constant stream of nutrients was transported throughout his body. The injuries on his frail frame began to heal at a rapid pace.
An hour later, the bruises on Zhao Qi's body had vanished, and a hint of color had returned to his sallow skin. However, his face still looked somewhat pale.
'This body is so troublesome. It'll take at least two or three more meals like that to get back to normal, huh?'
Zhao Xuanqi opened his eyes. Sensing his body's current state, he couldn't help but shake his head.
His soul did not belong to this body.
Zhao Xuanqi, the strongest Martial Arts Family on Blue Star. In his pursuit of the pinnacle of the Martial Dao, he had defied all prohibitions with his strength, ignored international law, and killed key individual combatants from multiple nations. He had invaded secret military bases and was listed as Interpol's most-wanted criminal. Ultimately, he was cornered in a desert during a joint multinational operation and killed under more than thirty minutes of sustained, heavy-fire saturation. When he woke up, his soul was already inside this frail body named Zhao Qi.
As for Zhao Qi, his real name was Zhao Jinwen. He and his older sister, Zhao Lingfei, had fled here as refugees. They originally came from a scholarly family, but their father, a righteous writer, offended the local Warlords, leading to their family's ruin.
On the run, their old family servant of over a decade stole their money and fled. The siblings endured countless hardships, taking half a year to reach Yuehai. But the relatives they had hoped to rely on were long gone without a trace, perhaps having become refugees themselves.
In this chaotic era, human life was as cheap as grass.
With no heart to flee any further, the two settled in Yuehai, changing their names to Zhao Qi and Zhao Qin. However, they were young, rootless drifters with no skills to speak of. Wandering here, they were like fat lambs ripe for the slaughter. Forget settling down; they couldn't even guarantee their own safety.
Out of desperation, the two sold a family heirloom—a piece of jade—to scrape together some silver coins. They used the money to enroll Zhao Qi as a Named Disciple at the local Xiaolin Martial Arts Hall. With the Hall's protection, the common thugs left them alone.
Unfortunately, the good times didn't last. Named Disciples were assessed every six months, and those who failed to show sufficient skill would be expelled from the Martial Arts Hall. Zhao Qi lacked natural talent. For the sake of his and his sister's safety, he trained desperately for half a year. Not only did he fail to even approach the standard for the assessment, but he also accumulated a body full of injuries. With the assessment looming, he pushed himself too hard in his training. His Qi and Blood were completely depleted. Two days ago, he collapsed after practice and never got up again, his body ultimately being taken over by Zhao Xuanqi.
Fortunately, Zhao Xuanqi had been reincarnated. Although he had lost his powerful, battle-hardened body and his level of mastery in the Martial Dao, his martial experience remained. Moreover, his single greatest physical talent from his past life seemed to have transferred with his soul, affecting Zhao Qi's body.
That was his powerful digestive ability!
He could control his stomach and intestines to rapidly and efficiently digest food, converting it into nutrients to strengthen or repair his body. This talent was one of the keys to him reaching the pinnacle of individual martial prowess in his past life.
On the path of the Martial Dao, training is thirty percent, and eating is seventy percent!
Unfortunately, the siblings were dirt poor and could rarely afford meat. The meal he had just eaten had completely wiped out their savings. Thankfully, Zhao Qin was a careful planner and had secretly kept a gold earring hidden for emergencies. She had already run off to the pawnshop to exchange it for money to buy more food for Zhao Qi.
'I wonder how much food that will get us?'
Zhao Xuanqi frowned slightly. He wasn't worried about his own safety. But for him, having been reincarnated here, the Xiaolin Martial Arts Hall was the best springboard for learning about this world. Missing this opportunity would be somewhat troublesome.
After all, from what he could tell from the body's memories, the Martial Dao of the Divine Land was currently flourishing.
A century ago, the Six Nations, the Great Powers, had forced open the gates of the Divine Land with military might, marking the beginning of the Daqian Dynasty's decline. The Weapons Ban Order became a law in name only. Ten years ago, the Dynasty's power had waned to its absolute limit. Eight great Warlords, each backed by a major Martial Arts School, rose up in rebellion. They overthrew the Daqian with force and carved up the Divine Land.
This was an era of sudden, dramatic change, a time of heroes and warlords rising to prominence. It was a chaotic age, the likes of which the Divine Land had not seen in a thousand years!
Zhao Xuanqi wanted to recover his former level of mastery as quickly as possible and test the Martial Dao of this world.
As his thoughts drifted, his ears suddenly twitched. He heard the sound of a heated argument outside. He stood up, walked over, and opened the door.
"Looks like you won't give up until you're staring into the abyss. You don't actually think your half-dead brother can pass the Martial Arts Hall's assessment, do you? Agreeing on your own is a completely different story from us having to get rough. If you cooperate willingly, I can promise you a price ten percent higher, and I'll guarantee we won't touch your brother. Besides, in his current state, he wouldn't fetch a good price anyway."
When Zhao Xuanqi opened the door, he saw a young man about five-foot-nine, dressed in a long black shirt with a sneer on his face. Behind him stood two sturdy men in the short outfits of porters.
On the other side stood a woman with her hair tied up, dressed in a plain, old, faded-white robe. Her skin was much fairer than that of the average resident.
"Whether he can pass or not is none of your concern. You're like a damn fly, buzzing around all day. Now get lost."
Zhao Xuanqi spoke flatly to the man in the long shirt, his voice still somewhat weak due to his physical condition.
"Oh? So you can still get out of bed? I thought you were on death's door. Got a big mouth on you, too. Fine, you're a disciple of the Xiaolin Martial Arts Hall, I can't afford to offend you. I just hope you still have this much nerve in two days. Oh, and don't even think about running. My men are watching you. There's no escape."
The man wasn't angered by Zhao Xuanqi's words. Instead, he just scoffed, gave a look to the two men beside him, and left without another word or a backward glance.
Watching the man's retreating back, Zhao Xuanqi narrowed his eyes.
Deng Zhuo, a minor leader in the Sanshui Gang. In these chaotic times, the city was a messy mix of all sorts of people, legitimate and illegitimate. The Sanshui Gang's name sounded intimidating, but in reality, they were just a group that used their minor connections with the Upper River District's patrol to operate. Publicly, they ran transport and porter businesses. Secretly, they engaged in human trafficking. Men were sold to the USK or the Jili Empire to build railroads or work in the coal mines. Women, depending on their looks, were sold to brothels or also sent to do hard labor.
Some of their victims signed contracts of indenture voluntarily, but most were coerced or tricked by the Sanshui Gang. Outsiders like the refugee siblings, Zhao Qi and his sister, who had no local roots, were the perfect targets. They could be threatened with direct force. The local patrol would turn a blind eye, as long as they received their hefty bribes.
Zhao Qin wasn't stunningly beautiful, but she was well-mannered from her good upbringing, had fair skin, and was literate. In Deng Zhuo's eyes, this made her a prime commodity. He had set his sights on her six months ago, which was precisely why Zhao Qin had been so determined to pay for Zhao Qi to study at the Martial Arts Hall.
Now, with the Martial Arts Hall's assessment imminent and news spreading of Zhao Qi collapsing from his training, Deng Zhuo, who had laid low for six months, immediately resurfaced. He had been coming to harass them daily for the past few days.
If Zhao Qi failed to pass the assessment, Deng Zhuo would likely bring the Sanshui Gang to make their move on the very day he was expelled from the Martial Arts Hall.