Chapter One: The Shepherd Boy

Dayu, Pingyang Prefecture, Wugong County, Lijia Village.

To the north of the village, an old black-backed ox was carrying a pensive young herdsman, ambling slowly toward the entrance.

Beside the well under the ancient locust tree at the village gate, a few women were washing clothes. Upon seeing the young herdsman, they greeted him with warm smiles.

“Mu, you’re back from grazing the cattle?”

“Mu, has your mother’s illness improved?”

“Mu, our old hen laid a few more eggs today—come by and take some for your mother to help her recover.”

“Mu…”

The cheerful chatter of the women brought the herdsman back to his senses.

“Granny Qi, Aunt Shi, Aunt Jiu, Aunt Liu… Yes, I’ve just finished work.”

“My mother is feeling better. Grandpa San prepared some medicine for her.”

“Thank you, Aunt Jiu. I happened to catch some fish a while ago and dried them. I’ll bring some over for you soon.”

The boy was about thirteen or fourteen, slender and tanned from rural life, certainly not what one would call handsome. Yet when he smiled, revealing eight reasonably white teeth, it was impossible not to be fond of him.

He greeted everyone politely, leaving no one out, which made the group of women beam with delight; their gazes at the boy grew even gentler.

After a round of pleasantries, the herdsman explained he had to return home to cook and took his leave.

He gently tapped the ox’s belly and said, “Uncle Ox, let’s go.”

The old ox, full of spirit, continued forward at a leisurely pace.

Soon, they passed the women, who watched the boy’s departing figure with a mix of amazement and affection.

“Ever since that disaster three months ago, Mu has changed completely—he’s become so well-behaved and thoughtful.”

“He used to be a little rascal, the terror of the village, always causing trouble, but now he’s truly different.”

“Poor child… They say there’s great terror in the face of life and death. After such an ordeal, becoming more mature is only natural.”

“Sigh, how could the flood have been so sudden? Li San spent his life fishing, yet he perished in those waters… Do you think there’s something evil in the river outside our village?”

“It’s hard to say… My husband told me there have been strange happenings in Wugong County lately. The Liang family in the neighboring village was wiped out overnight—blood flowed to the very gate. It was terrifying.”

“What? The whole Liang family is dead?”

“It’s true. Now my husband doesn’t dare to stray far from home.”

“But your husband’s a warrior—he’s afraid too?”

“What good is being a warrior? These are demons we’re talking about!”

Gradually, the women’s voices faded behind him.

But having overheard their words, Li Mu paused, and his smile grew tinged with helpless bitterness.

Whether there was great terror between life and death, he could not say, but he…

He truly had become a different person.

The real Li Mu had died in the flood three months ago.

Now, he was a soul from another world.

Yes, Li Mu had crossed over.

He had arrived in a world he’d never heard of, called Dayu—a place that bore some resemblance to ancient times.

What convinced him this wasn’t simply ancient history, but a world akin to it, were not only the unfamiliar dynasty name of “Dayu,” but more importantly, the women’s mention of “warriors” and “demons”…

If “demons” could be dismissed as the superstitions of country women, “warriors” were another matter entirely.

He had seen them with his own eyes.

He had seen one up close—a man married to one of the women he called “Aunt Jiu.” Lijia Village was small, home to just over a hundred families, most surnamed Li, bound by blood or marriage. This warrior was called Li Yang, whom Li Mu addressed as Uncle Jiu.

Uncle Jiu was one of the village’s leading figures, reputedly a bodyguard for a wealthy merchant in the county, someone who received a regular monthly stipend.

A stipend—much like a salary in his previous life.

It sounded ordinary enough.

But in this world, it was far from common.

Here, ordinary people lived at the mercy of nature. When the weather was good, there was food. If there was drought or flood, meals became uncertain. In times of famine, the tragedies of cannibalism were not unheard of.

Their ability to withstand disaster was nearly nonexistent.

A wealthy merchant paying someone a monthly sum to keep them on retainer…

Could such a person be ordinary?

In truth, Uncle Jiu was anything but.

Li Mu had witnessed Uncle Jiu’s strength firsthand.

One morning, as Li Mu was taking the cattle out to pasture, he passed Uncle Jiu’s house and saw him practicing in the yard.

His upper body was bare, lean yet muscular, his skin tough as leather. With the slightest effort, his muscles tightened like steel cables, radiating explosive power.

Then Li Mu saw him casually pick up a stone pedestal at the gate, toss it more than three meters into the air, and then catch it securely on his shoulder!

Li Mu was utterly dumbfounded.

The stone pedestal was the size of a millstone, solid, easily weighing two or three hundred jin, but in Uncle Jiu’s hands, it was like a giant balloon.

The thuds as the stone struck his shoulders were unmistakably real.

Each blow seemed to strike Li Mu’s own heart.

A two- or three-hundred-jin stone, falling from such a height with the acceleration of gravity, would strike with tremendous force—over a thousand jin, at least.

Yet Uncle Jiu neither dodged nor flinched, taking the blow on either shoulder, his body barely dipping with each impact, completely absorbing the force.

It was the perfect union of strength and skill!

One could almost believe his flesh hid an iron skeleton beneath.

After a while, Uncle Jiu was drenched in sweat but looked more invigorated than ever. He finally tossed the stone aside—it landed with a heavy thud, gouging a shallow pit in the dirt road.

Then Uncle Jiu looked up, flashed Li Mu a broad grin in greeting, and went back inside.

In his yard, he drew up a bucket of cold water from the well and dumped it over his head; steam rose instantly from his skin as if poured over a scorching slab of stone.

Li Mu was astounded.

A man like that, in his former world, would have been a legend—an unmatched general famed for all time.

After all, the most celebrated feat of the legendary Xiang Yu, the Hegemon-King of Chu, was said to be his strength in lifting a cauldron.

Given ancient craftsmanship, a bronze cauldron might weigh a thousand jin at most.

Yet Uncle Jiu could toss a two- or three-hundred-jin stone pedestal three meters high as if it were nothing.

Such strength was far beyond mere mortal limits.

And yet…

Li Yang?

The name meant nothing to him in his previous life.

And this formidable man was only a bodyguard for a merchant in Wugong County.

It was clear—warriors in this world were astonishing.

Later, Li Mu spoke with Uncle Jiu, pressing him for details about warriors. Uncle Jiu, always kindly toward him, simply laughed.

“What’s so special about me? There are plenty more impressive folks in the county town. I’m just a competent bodyguard, nothing more. As for the martial path, I’m only just beginning…”

As he spoke, Uncle Jiu’s eyes grew distant, full of longing for something beyond.

When pressed further, he would say no more.

It was plain—this world was not the ancient past he knew, but another world entirely.

One that only seemed remarkably similar to ancient times.

If the existence of warriors was only indirect proof,

Then…

Seated on the ox’s back, Li Mu was silent for a while.

Then, lowering his eyelids, he willed his thoughts.

Within the darkness behind his closed eyes, an impossible sight appeared—

A weathered, ancient scroll hovered in that endless night.

He could see it the moment he closed his eyes.

“The Demon Taming Compendium…”

He gazed at the scroll, inscribed with four archaic characters he’d never seen before, and yet somehow understood instinctively.

Li Mu’s expression grew complicated.

That, surely, was proof enough.

…

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