Chapter Two: Unlike Anything of This World

Xu Boqing sat on the ground, his eyes vacant and unfocused. Memories surged through his mind like a film from a previous life played at impossible speed, and in that torrent, he grasped his current identity, the era and land in which he now existed.

It was the sixteenth year of the Yonghe era in the Great Liang Empire. The reigning emperor, influenced by his predecessor, had sunk into an obsession with the pursuit of immortality and the occult, unable to extricate himself. Emperor Shengyuan, Zhu Tai, had ceased attending court in the fourteenth year of his reign; scores of remonstrating officials had dashed themselves to death at the palace gates, to no avail. Years of abstinence, meditation, and the consumption of so-called “divine elixirs” brought him no closer to transcendence; instead, he perished suddenly at the age of forty-three.

His son, Zhu Heng, ascended the throne before he had even reached adulthood, changing the era name to Yonghe. The realm believed a turning point had arrived, but Zhu Heng barely managed four years of “diligent governance” before spiraling into the same madness as his father, and began his own fevered quest for immortality. In the twelve years that followed, his appearances at court were so few they could be counted on one’s fingers, and even then, he attended clad in Daoist robes. All under heaven said he was his father’s reflection. Naturally, in that span, several more upright ministers dashed themselves to death in vain protest.

Despite the vastness and abundance of the Great Liang, not even such a land could withstand the havoc of two generations of incompetent rulers. Centuries of accumulated fortune had been nearly exhausted. The old saying had come to pass: “Within the halls of power, rotten wood holds office; across the land, beasts feed at the public trough. Thus do the wolf-hearted and dog-minded prevail at court, while the craven and servile seize the reins of governance.” In such a climate, it was no wonder the imperial coffers lay nearly empty. The selling of official posts and titles became commonplace, and local magnates only intensified their plundering of the people’s wealth.

Where there is oppression, there is resistance. In recent years, chaos and calamity plagued the empire; warlords and bandits ran rampant on all sides.

The Xu family hailed from a small county called Jianyang. Though their numbers were few, the family head Xu Zhong was shrewd and resourceful, running several rice shops and lacking for nothing. Generous by nature, he often aided those in need, and had early on spent money and pulled strings to secure his younger brother Xu He a post as an inspector in the capital. The family was known locally as one of means and virtue.

Xu Boqing was Xu Zhong’s only son. His life ought to have been one of leisure: reading, playing chess, marrying a few concubines to continue the family line. But the world was too chaotic. Banditry struck their small county. As the most prominent family in the area, the Xus could not escape notice. Forced to act in haste, Xu Zhong arranged for his only son to be spirited out of the city under cover of night, sending him to the capital to seek refuge with his uncle.

Yet on the way, their party was set upon by marauders who, emboldened by their numbers, not only robbed Xu Boqing and his retinue of their belongings but slaughtered his family and servants to the last.

“So I’ve just crossed into this world, and I’ve already lost my parents?” Xu Boqing sat dumbly on the ground, sifting through the memories of his new self. It was only after he regained his senses that he noticed the few blood-soaked corpses lying nearby. Unconsciously, he muttered under his breath, “Damn emperor.”

Perhaps because he had already digested these memories, the sight of the bodies stirred neither fear nor panic in him—only a faint, lingering sorrow. “Ergou… Uncle Hu… Little Cui… alas…” He recited the familiar yet foreign names, and though he could not truly feel their pain, his heart was not at ease. All he could do was sigh deeply.

Rising, he looked around. On the path, he saw an old donkey leisurely grazing by the roadside, still harnessed to a handcart. When his consciousness first returned, he’d vaguely heard the wailing of two people fleeing into the distance. Why they’d left the donkey, he couldn’t say. On reflection, if he’d witnessed someone “come back from the dead,” he likely would have run too.

Shaking his head, Xu Boqing tied the donkey to a tree at the roadside. With two sound legs, it would be foolish to forgo a free means of transport. He then searched the graveyard, finally finding a rusty spade—likely left behind by someone who’d forgotten it while digging a grave in this field of unmarked mounds.

He had, after all, borrowed this “Xu Boqing”’s body; the cause and effect that bound him to this world was profound. If nothing else, he could at least see that the family and servants of his predecessor received a proper burial.

Resolved, he chose a patch of empty ground and began to dig. At first, all went well, but as he worked, a strange feeling crept upon him.

Xu Boqing paused, looking up. The sun was already slanting west, the shadows in the woods stretching long. He glanced down at the pit he’d dug. How long had he been at this? Why did he not feel the slightest fatigue?

Brow furrowed, he wiped his forehead. It was the height of summer—he’d awoken under a blazing sun, and now dusk was falling. He had worked without rest, yet barely broken a sweat.

He clearly remembered that, in his previous life, even digging a small hole for Arbor Day left him winded and needing to pause several times. But now…

Are people in this world really so robust? That couldn’t be it.

He thought carefully, and suddenly, inspiration struck. While digging, he’d repeatedly felt something odd brushing against his thigh. Could it be…?

Excited, he hurried into a nearby grove, ostensibly to relieve himself but really to examine his body for any peculiarities.

Sure enough!

Xu Boqing drew a sharp breath through his teeth. “Heh… haha… hahahaha!” After checking several times and confirming his discovery, he pulled up his trousers and broke into unrestrained laughter. His excitement at that moment could scarcely be put into words.

He’d spent half the day digging a pit with a shovel and felt no fatigue at all; his energy seemed inexhaustible, exactly matching the legendary “Body of Pure Yang” trait—limitless stamina. If that alone could be dismissed as coincidence, what about the other “inhuman” features he’d noticed? Clearly, his transmigration perks had arrived—just like the post-dungeon rewards in games from his past life.

It was a pity, though… In his previous life, he’d only managed to complete three game dungeons; he hadn’t cleared them all, and the small, shady studio behind the game never opened up the top-tier recharge options. Otherwise, his stats would have been maxed out.

Shaking his head to clear it, Xu Boqing focused. In his past life, he’d cleared three dungeons; now, both the “Body of Pure Yang” and the “Art of the Wheel” had manifested. But wasn’t there also the “Heaven’s Eye” ability?

He narrowed his eyes and concentrated all his attention on his vision. The world before him shifted, turning pale and faded, like a painting leached of color. Birds, beasts, and insects in the forest all came into sharp focus.

Another phenomenon—just as he suspected!

Xu Boqing had no idea what this signified. The name “Heaven’s Eye” sounded impressive, but in the game, its effect was nothing more than ordinary x-ray vision.

Before he had time to explore its full potential, his eyes began to feel dry and sore, and a dull ache crept into his head. Remembering a certain anime where overusing one’s eyes could lead to blindness, he quickly broke his focus. The colorless world faded, and his vision returned to normal.

He still didn’t know exactly what use these golden-fingered gifts would be, but three at once—they were a treasure beyond compare.

Wonderful!

All gloom swept away, Xu Boqing grabbed the spade and returned to digging the grave.