This life seems utterly unremarkable.
He was born in the countryside, began reading at the age of six, and at fifteen ventured into the martial world, gaining immense fame, but by thirty, tired of the clash of swords and chose to withdraw and live a reclusive life.
He selected a secluded mountain hollow to build a cottage, from then on not concerning himself with battles of the martial world or the turmoil of nations.
Farming, hunting, he'd also help the townsfolk nearby by writing letters and doing carpentry work,
because he was one of the few in town able to read and write, his age made the people respectfully address him as "Mr."
In a blink, more than twenty years passed, the young Mr. Zhang became an old Mr. Zhang.
Fifty-seven years old that year.
On a cold night just after the awakening of insects, the mountain wind swept rain against the thatched house,
