Chapter 15: Zheng Jian’s Awkward Journey

Chapter 15: Zheng Jian’s Awkward Journey

In the days that followed, the disciples of Mount Hua Sect descended the mountain in groups to gain experience. Zheng Jian was the last to set off. To be honest, according to his original plan, he would never leave the mountain until he had mastered the Purple Mist technique.

After all, the martial world was fraught with danger—even the strongest could be laid low by a pouch of knockout powder, let alone those without sufficient skill. For the weak, a wrong step could mean their corpse lying unclaimed in some remote wilderness.

But plans never keep up with the pace of change—who would have thought he’d leave the mountain so soon? Wasn’t he supposed to stay hidden until he achieved mastery in Purple Mist?

Still, looking at things from another angle, Zheng Jian wasn’t all that weak now, if not exactly powerful. As long as he didn’t cross paths with the likes of Xiang Wentian or Chief Zuo—those exceptional, rule-breaking masters—he should be just fine. So, going down the mountain it was.

Alas, it’s only chapter fifteen and Zheng Jian is already off the mountain. One can’t help but marvel at the speed of it all…

…

After bidding farewell to Master Yue and his wife, Zheng Jian slung a small bundle over his shoulder and strolled leisurely down the mountain.

With nothing better to do along the way, he started grumbling about his Resentment System. Other people’s systems, after all, come with storage space as standard—essential for both home and travel.

But his Resentment System? No matter how much he pleaded, not even a tiny bit of storage space. Even one cubic meter would do…

It would be so much safer and more convenient to stash his belongings away. Imagine, during a fight, suddenly drawing a sword out of thin air—wouldn’t that strike fear into anyone?

A pity, really…

The task Master Yue had given him for this trip was simple: go to Fujian’s Fortune Escort Agency and gather intelligence.

Frankly, most wouldn’t understand the significance, but as a transmigrator, Zheng Jian immediately saw through Master Yue’s intentions. The old man already had his sights set on the Lin family’s Evil-Repelling Sword Manual.

That manual was truly remarkable. Lin Yuantun, a Lin ancestor, had used it to shake the underworld and the martial world alike, founding the Fortune Escort Agency and earning a reputation as one of the rare masters of his time.

Zheng Jian, however, knew the technique was derived from the Sunflower Manual. Its very first requirement was self-castration—a fact lost on the Lin descendants, who practiced it to little effect.

If the story followed the original plot, after the Lin family was wiped out, Master Yue would seize the opportunity amid the chaos, steal the sword manual, and eventually emasculate himself, thus beginning his descent into darkness.

In the end, Master Yue simply didn’t believe in the light!

…

What’s so special about the Evil-Repelling Sword Manual? For all its fame, its flaws are absurdly large—nowhere near the level of the Nine Swords of Dugu.

“How can I dissuade Master Yue from this path?” Zheng Jian mused as he walked, lost in thought.

“Maybe… I could add a warning—a line that says castration doesn’t necessarily guarantee success?”

…

Upon reaching the small town at the foot of the mountain, Zheng Jian promptly bought himself a horse, found a handsome scabbard for his sword, and purchased a set of white robes—not extravagant, but with undeniable style.

He’d imagined this look countless times in his head—finely dressed, astride a spirited steed, sword at his side; this was how a hero of the righteous path should appear.

Don’t ask—he was just that kind of understated, luxurious, and cultured fellow!

After all these purchases, the travel funds his master’s wife had given him were nearly spent. If Master Yue found out, he’d no doubt rain down a storm of punishment. The man wore the same faded blue robe every day, too stingy to change it…

Leading his horse out of town, Zheng Jian could hardly wait to experience riding for the first time. In both his lives, he’d never had the chance—this was a novelty.

He grabbed the reins, put his feet in the stirrups, and swung himself up with flourish. And then—

The horse reared up on its hind legs. Zheng Jian, unprepared, found himself left hanging in midair.

“Damn!”

Startled, Zheng Jian quickly gathered his inner energy, twisted in the air, and forced himself onto the horse’s back. “You dumb beast, trying to mess with me? I’ll geld you if you try that again!”

So began a half-hour contest of wills. No matter what Zheng Jian tried, the horse refused to move forward. He nearly picked the animal up and carried it himself.

At long last, worn out from the struggle, the horse relented and began to obey. Zheng Jian finally settled into the saddle as he’d hoped. “Did you really think my journey as a young hero would be cut short by a stubborn nag like you? Hmph…”

“If only this were a fine steed, the intelligent kind—I might even get some Resentment Value out of it.”

White Horse: I beg you, just act like a decent person!

…

The road was uneventful. Bored and restless, Zheng Jian gradually left the territory of Mount Hua Sect.

After a while, noticing the sun was setting, it suddenly dawned on him, “Damn, it’s my first time away from the mountain and I completely forgot about finding a place to stay!”

He vaguely remembered seeing a temple on a distant hillside earlier, but he’d been in a daze and simply passed by. Now, more than ten miles further on, with the sky darkening, he realized his oversight. Wasn’t this just his luck?

In all the novels of his past life, there was always an abandoned temple at dusk in the wilderness. But after missing that one, all that lay ahead was unbroken wilderness and desolate hills.

He could only grit his teeth in frustration.

And now, to top it off, he was starting to feel hungry…

“Is the path of the young hero always this rough?” Zheng Jian complained helplessly. Why did other people’s martial journeys always go so smoothly?

Look at him—he struggled just to ride a horse, and now food and shelter had become major problems. If only he’d thought to buy some rations back in town.

In that moment, he gained a true understanding of the martial world: it was far less romantic than he’d imagined. In reality, the simplest matters—food, clothing, shelter—could leave you thoroughly embarrassed.

“Good thing I’m learning all this now. If I’d waited until I was a top master to leave the mountain, and then ran into these problems, all my legendary style would be ruined in a moment.”

Lost in these thoughts, he was suddenly startled as seven or eight men emerged from the woods ahead, all brandishing weapons and looking fierce. Their leader sported a long, jagged scar across his face.

Truly ugly, Zheng Jian thought, passing judgment as a senior member of the Handsome Men’s Association.

“Whose young master are you, eh?” the scar-faced man barked. “Don’t you know this road belongs to me? How does the saying go? The trees here are mine too… uh, what’s the next part?”

“The proper line, Boss, is: ‘This mountain I laid claim to, these trees I planted. If you want to pass, leave a toll…’” a scrawny fellow beside him whispered.

“Ah, right, that’s it! Listen up, boy—leave your horse, your bundle, and your clothes, and I’ll let you live. If you refuse, I’ll make you wish you were dead!” the scar-faced man shouted.

…

Is this the standard of bandits these days? Their professionalism has really gone downhill…

(End of chapter)