Chapter 2: Refining Demons

“It definitely didn’t used to have this name,” Li Mu sighed.

This thing was something he’d discovered not long after he’d transmigrated. After some careful thought, he more or less guessed what it was.

Three months ago, he’d gone on a business trip to the capital to meet an important client. While waiting for the client in the afternoon, he’d taken some time to visit Panjiayuan Market. During his stroll, he set his eyes on an ancient-style decorative painting. The painting was called “The Atlas of Mountains and Seas,” and depicted several legendary beasts from the Classic of Mountains and Seas.

Li Mu had always been fascinated by mythologies like the Classic of Mountains and Seas since childhood, and the painting’s style suited his tastes, so he bought it, intending to hang it in his study. That night, after meeting the client and successfully sealing the deal, he was in high spirits and drank a bit too much with the client. Once back in his hotel, he fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

When he woke up, he was already in this world.

After that, he saw the painting again.

So, unsurprisingly, the “Demon Refining Compendium” in his mind was none other than the “Atlas of Mountains and Seas” he’d bought.

And most likely, his transmigration was due to this very painting.

“But all I wanted was a simple decorative painting...” Li Mu gazed at the ancient and mysterious scroll, his expression complicated and bitter.

He had only meant to buy a decorative painting.

Yet somehow, he’d bought something extraordinary...

Was this truly a stroke of luck?

But Li Mu felt no joy at all.

In his previous life, he’d had a happy family and a successful career. Though he wasn’t fabulously wealthy, he lived comfortably and contentedly.

He truly hadn’t wanted to transmigrate!

But... whether he wanted to or not, it had already happened.

There was no way back.

All he could do was accept reality with a heavy heart and begin investigating the painting.

On the bright side, transmigrating with a golden finger—his prospects seemed limitless.

But after careful study, he found himself in a dilemma.

First, for reasons unknown, the four traditional characters that originally read “Atlas of Mountains and Seas” had become four ancient, arcane glyphs that, though he’d never seen before, he could somehow understand as “Demon Refining Compendium.”

What had once been filled with illustrations of mythic beasts from the Classic of Mountains and Seas was now a blank expanse.

Most importantly, through a mysterious intuition, Li Mu grasped what the compendium could do—

“Slay demons, record them, and obtain a portion of their innate talents.”

In sum, that was the simple message.

In other words, this thing... only worked after slaying a demon!

But... slay demons?

Was this a joke?

He was just a country cowherd!

Three months ago, his father had drowned in a sudden, windless flood. His mother, grief-stricken, had fallen seriously ill and was now bedridden. He himself was only fifteen, and years of malnutrition had left him frail and underdeveloped...

Slay demons? With what strength?

Leaving aside the fact that demons were rare, and he might never even encounter one, if he did, a single breath of demonic energy would likely kill him on the spot—at best, he’d serve as a little appetizer!

Slaying demons? The thought made Li Mu force a powerless smile.

To say there was no way forward wasn’t quite true.

For instance, there was the path of martial cultivation.

Uncle Jiu had said that he was only a beginner in the martial arts, yet already possessed strength in the thousands of catties, tossing around stone blocks weighing two or three hundred as if they were toys...

Clearly, the upper limits of martial prowess in this world were astonishingly high.

If Li Mu could train in the martial arts, perhaps one day he’d truly have a chance to slay demons.

There was a martial hall in Martial County. With enough money for tuition, one could practice martial arts. Uncle Jiu had taken that very path.

But... was it really so easy to begin, just by smacking his lips together?

Not to mention the tuition—his family couldn’t scrape together the money even if they went without food and drink for years.

Even if he somehow raised the tuition, his chances of succeeding were slim.

In the entire Li Family Village, with its hundreds of people, only Uncle Jiu had become a true martial artist.

He’d once shamelessly asked Uncle Jiu to teach him, but Uncle Jiu had only taken one look at him before shaking his head.

“Your bones are too poor, your body too weak. If you truly tried to train, you’d exhaust your vitality before making any progress, and likely die.”

Martial cultivation required vitality.

And vitality came from food.

As for him?

Since his father’s death, the family had been living hand to mouth for three months. Even getting enough to eat each day was a challenge.

In three months, he’d had meat only three times.

And it wasn’t as if he’d had his fill—just a bit of minced meat mixed into thin porridge, totaling less than half a pound in all.

Three months.

Half a pound of meat.

Train in martial arts? What a joke!

Standing for a few moments made him dizzy and see stars.

Martial arts for the rich, books for the poor—truly no exaggeration!

What’s that? He came from an age of information, full of ideas, able to make money easily?

Sure, he had plenty of ideas. If given the right circumstances, making money wouldn’t be a problem.

But did he have any of the necessary conditions?

He was a frail country cowherd, without assets, son of a fisherman and a peasant woman...

Where would he find resources or connections?

Now, his father was gone, his mother gravely ill...

Her illness had already cost them much silver for medicine, making their already precarious situation even worse.

After three months, simply finding enough to eat each day had used up all his energy and willpower.

Start a business? Make money?

He was lucky not to have starved to death!

As for those clever tricks to get something for nothing—did he really think ancient people were fools?

A ragged youth with nothing but words could win people’s trust?

Rise on the tides of opportunity? What a fantasy!

If he tried anything like that, the moment he revealed his scheme, he’d be lucky if he wasn’t eaten alive, bones and all!

This was reality, not a game. Nothing was that simple.

The hardships of life at the bottom in ancient times far exceeded his imagination.

And besides, his mother was gravely ill and needed constant care...

He couldn’t abandon his mother.

He’d taken over another’s body, so naturally he was responsible for their obligations.

That flood had claimed the original host’s father’s life; the host himself had also been on the boat... which is why Li Mu had arrived.

In fact, when Li Mu first transmigrated, he had still been struggling in the water.

It was the original’s mother who, disregarding her own safety, dove in and dragged him back from death’s door.

Afterward, Li Mu fell into a high fever.

Even then, the original’s mother, setting aside her grief, cared for him day and night, never leaving his side, until he finally recovered.

Only after he was well did her strength give out, and she collapsed.

Could he just walk away at this point?

Even if it were possible, his conscience would not allow it.

So...

He sighed heavily.

“For now, I can only take things one step at a time.”

Li Mu gazed helplessly at the sky.

At the very least, he would wait until his mother’s health improved before considering anything else.

The good news was that her condition had stabilized. With a bit more care, she should make a full recovery.

When that time came, he could free himself a little and seriously consider a way forward.

He refused to believe that a living person could be driven to despair by mere circumstance.

If he truly failed, he would be a disgrace to transmigrators everywhere.

He roused himself, glanced at the sky—dusk was falling, the setting sun dyed the clouds with blood.

He needed to hurry home and cook; his ailing mother couldn’t go hungry.

“Uncle Ox, let’s go home,” he said to the old ox.

The ox shook its head, chewing grass as it ambled slowly, carrying the young cowherd homeward...

...

Li Mu’s home was halfway up the hillside on the west side of the village. From a distance, one could see a fenced yard with an old wooden house inside.

At the gate, Li Mu slid off the ox’s back and removed a basket containing wild vegetables he’d foraged on the mountain.

He led the ox into the yard. Just as he was about to speak, the ox suddenly jerked its head, nearly yanking Li Mu off his feet.

“Uncle Ox?” Li Mu looked at the old beast in surprise.

“Uncle Ox” was what the original host had called this ox, and Li Mu had continued the habit.

This was because the old ox was exceptionally clever.

When carrying him, it moved neither too fast nor too slow, stopped and went on command. Sometimes, if Li Mu fell asleep while grazing, the ox stayed by his side and never wandered off to eat the villagers’ crops—a rarity that made other children with cattle green with envy.

Other families’ oxen would slip away at the first chance, trampling fields, or even vanish altogether, causing endless trouble.

But Li Mu’s old ox had never behaved that way.

The elders said that old oxen grew wise—and it seemed to be true.

Sometimes, Li Mu even suspected the creature understood human speech. Usually, all he had to do was pat its rump and it would go into its pen without a word.

But today?

Li Mu looked at the ox in confusion.

At this moment, the ox’s dark eyes were fixed on the main house.

Startled, Li Mu turned his head—and saw that the main house’s door was open.

He distinctly remembered closing it before leaving. His mother had been bedridden for three months and could hardly get up; someone must have been here.

As he puzzled over this, the old ox let out a low, warning “moo,” a sound surprisingly full of human-like wariness.

Just as Li Mu was about to calm the ox, a massive figure slowly emerged from the shadowed house.

At the sight of it, Li Mu froze. Then, eyes widening, he drew a sharp breath—

It was a gigantic, striped tiger!

The beast was three or four meters long, with yellow fur and black stripes. It strode out of the house as though it belonged there.

In the next moment, Li Mu’s body trembled violently, his eyes tearing with horror.

“Mother!”

His anguished cry shattered the silence.

The tiger’s jaws parted, and a bloody human head fell to the ground.

It was his gravely ill mother’s head—who else could it be?

The monstrous tiger released its grip, and her head rolled across the ground, leaving a trail of blood.

Her face was turned to the sky, eyes wide with terror and despair.

Li Mu stood, stunned.

The tiger licked its lips, savoring the blood.

Then...

“I wasn’t quite full, but now more food comes to my door,” it said, speaking in a human voice!

Li Mu’s whole body shook. He tore his gaze from his mother’s severed head to stare at the tiger.

“A... demon?”

Roar!

The tiger’s thunderous roar echoed through the woods. Without another word, the striped demon leapt at the stunned Li Mu, jaws gaping, a wave of nauseating, bloody stench assaulting his senses.

Li Mu’s mind went blank, as though plunged into an icy abyss.

It was over.