I said to Yan while blinking one eye and a smile, "I am experienced in dealing with snakes." He looked toward Uncle Xu, who was dealing with the snake. "Let Uncle deal with the snake. Then we will have our own talks."
Uncle Xu left without saying much. He placed the food packet near the door, dealt with the snake's body with the help of a long stick and an old cloth, and disappeared without looking back again.
Yan and I ate in silence.
The food was plain. Coarse grain porridge, barely salted, with a small piece of dried vegetable on the side. It tasted like an apology. I did not complain. After floating in a white void and nearly losing my cheek to venom, even this felt like a luxury.
Yan finished first. He set the clay bowl down and looked at me.
"You should have waited for Uncle to arrive," he said.
"Snake did not ask for my schedule before attacking. Plus I have experience."
"Jin!"
I looked up. His tone had shifted.
"You were barely conscious an hour ago," he said quietly. "Your body was half dead when I woke up in it. I could feel how weak it was just sitting in that chair. And you went and picked up a fight with snake."
I put my bowl down. "Do you want me to gotten bitten by snake? what would you wanted me to do? try to run and get bitten?"
"Do you?" I met his eyes.
He exhaled through his nose. The tension in his shoulders did not fully leave, but he let it go. That was always his way. He pushed, made his point, then moved on. He never dragged things out.
"Fine," he said. "Then let us talk properly. No more interruptions."
"Agreed."
He leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. Outside, the wind moved through the cracks in the wall and the morning light had turned from purple to yellowish. The village sounds were distant. Chickens somewhere. A cart on a dirt road. Nothing close.
"First thing," Yan said. "Names."
I looked at him.
"We cannot use our old names. Not ever. Not even when we are completely alone and certain no one is listening." His voice was flat and certain. "One slip in the wrong place and questions follow. Questions we cannot answer."
He was right. I had already called him Avinash once today. That was one time too many.
"Yan and Jin," I said.
"Only Zheng Yan and Zheng Jin. From now on, always."
I nodded. It felt strange, like setting down something I had carried for a long time. But strange was not the same as wrong.
"Second thing," he continued. "Uncle Xu."
I straightened slightly. "You noticed."
"He looked at you like you had grown a second head after the snake. I understand that. But there was something else in his expression. Something I could not place."
"I have a doubt on him," I said. "I cannot confirm anything yet. But something feels off. He cursed us with every food delivery and our father made that contract in front of the whole village, which means he cannot simply refuse without losing face. So he fulfills it. Barely." I paused. "A man who resents an obligation will look for a way out of it eventually."
Yan was quiet for a moment. "Then we should think about the contract."
"Yes."
This was the problem we had been circling without naming it. The contract our father had made was the only thing keeping food coming through that door. Void it and we stood alone. Keep it and we remained tied to a man whose intentions I did not trust.
This was the problem we had been circling without naming it. The contract our father had made was the only thing keeping food coming through that door. Void it and we stood alone. Keep it and we remained tied to a man whose intentions I did not trust.
"If we void it," Yan said slowly, thinking aloud, "we need to use our money for food. A thousand gold coins sounds like a large number but we do not know the actual value here. Food, supplies, possibly rent if this house is not fully ours. It could drain faster than we expect."
"And the land," I added. "Father was a farmer and part-time hunter. Whatever land he worked has practical value close to zero for us right now. We are three years old. We cannot farm it. We cannot sell labor. The land just sits there."
"So voiding the contract costs us money we cannot afford to spend carelessly, in exchange for cutting off a man we do not fully trust." Yan tapped his fingers against his knee. "And keeping it means relying on someone with resentment in his eyes and a habit of cursing orphans under his breath."
"Yes. That is the choice." Silence settled between us.
"We keep it for now," Yan said finally. "But we watch him. Carefully."
"Agreed. The moment we have a clearer picture of everything, we will reassess."
"And we never let him think we are dependent. Children who seem helpless invite cruelty. Children who seem slightly unpredictable…" He glanced toward the door where the snake's faint blood trail still marked the floor. "...invite caution."
"Third thing," I said. "Sit properly. This will take a while."
He straightened.
"This world is not unknown to me. Before we died, in our previous life, there was a novel. A Chinese web novel called Battle Through the Heavens. This continent, the energy system, the major powers, the key families. I read it. Not all of it, and not recently, but I read enough."
Silence.
Yan stared at me without blinking.
"You are telling me," he said slowly, "that we are inside a story."
"Yes and No, This world is real but it show how follow a part of story as well"
"A novel?"
"Yes."
"That someone wrote."
"Yes." I held his gaze and did not flinch.
He leaned back. His expression did not collapse into panic or disbelief. He simply sat with it, the way he always processed things that were too large to react to immediately. I waited.
"How much do you remember?" he asked finally.
"The early plot of three year is clear. The main character, the major factions, the events during the first few arcs. After a certain point it becomes hazy. I stopped following the story closely."
"Who is the main character?"
"A boy named Xiao Yan. He is not born yet, or just born around now, depending on when exactly we landed. He lives in a city called Wutan City, part of the Jia Ma Empire. We are not near there right now. I do not know exactly where this village sits on the map."
Yan was quiet for a moment. "Does the story involve us?"
"No. We are not part of the original plot. The system confirmed it too. It said our existence would not directly affect the main story."
"Unknown variables," he said.
"Yes."
Another pause. Longer.
"Jin." His voice was even. "If you knew all this from the moment you woke up, why did you wait until now?"
I looked at him steadily. "Because I needed to confirm you were actually you first."
He accepted that with a small nod.
"Alright," he said. "Tell me everything you remember. Every name, every faction, every event. Anything useful."
"It will take time."
"We are three years old and stuck in a village." The corner of his mouth moved slightly. "We have nothing but time."
I almost laughed. It came out as a short breath instead.
"One more thing before I start," I said. "This world is brutal. The strong consume the weak. Talent determines your ceiling. The protagonist carries advantages most people here will never touch in their lifetimes."
"And us?"
"No special bloodline. No legendary technique from our father. We have knowledge, some money, and each other."
Yan looked at me for a long moment. Then something shifted in his expression. Not worry. Not fear.
Determination.
"Then we start from zero," he said simply. "We have done that before."
"Yes. But not completely from zero." I leaned forward. "That is what I wanted to tell you. The money the system gave us, a thousand gold coins. I know what it is worth here."
Yan waited.
"For an ordinary person, a non-cultivator, it is a fortune. Enough to buy land, build a decent house, live comfortably for years without working. In a village like this, a single gold coin would feed a family for a month. A thousand is generational wealth by common standards."
Yan absorbed this slowly. "That sounds like good news."
"For now it is. But the moment we step into the cultivation world properly, that number changes meaning entirely. Techniques, pills, weapons, resources that actually matter for cultivation. Those are priced in a completely different league. A thousand gold coins would not buy a mediocre technique. It would not cover a single elixir from an alchemist." I paused. "We are rich by the standards of this village and poor by the standards of the world we need to enter."
Yan was quiet for a moment. "So we have a window. Enough to survive and set a foundation, but not enough to shortcut anything."
"Exactly."
He nodded slowly, filing it away. "Then we spend carefully and we earn faster than we spend."
"Yes. Which brings me to the second thing." I hesitated.
Yan noticed. "Say it."
"I know a location," I said. "Somewhere on this continent. A place that contains treasures. Real ones, not common resources. The kind that could change our situation entirely in a single visit."
Yan straightened. His eyes sharpened the way they always did when something important entered the conversation.
"How certain are you?"
"Certain enough. It is from the novel. The location is real within this world and the treasures are confirmed by the plot."
"Then what is the problem?"
I looked at him directly. "If we go there right now, we die. Not probably. Not maybe. Ten out of ten, we walk in and we do not walk out. The place is not dangerous in a way that skill or cleverness can compensate for. It simply requires a level of strength that neither of us is anywhere close to."
Yan leaned back. The sharpness in his eyes did not leave. It just turned inward, calculating.
"How strong do we need to be?" he asked.
"Dou Shi, Second rank of Douluo Cultivation."
Yan tapped his fingers once against his knee. "Does anyone else know about this location?"
I considered this carefully. "In the novel it is not a well-known place. It does appear in the main plot, Only a heroine of Novel find it later then explore with Xiao Yan, which means no major faction is actively hunting it. But, i don't know exact location, we have to search for that place, it might take few days to several months."
"We do not tell anyone," Yan said.
"Obviously."
"Now." He folded his hands together. "Tell me everything about plot. that damn story from the beginning."
"Damn," Yan said quietly. He leaned back and stared at the cracked ceiling. "The author of this story is definitely Criminal Minded."
I snorted. "What gave it away?"
"Everything." He counted on his fingers. "A child protagonist who gets his talent stolen by a Old possessing his mother's ring. A father who cannot protect his son. A world where your rank at eleven years old decides whether people spit on you or bow to you." He paused. "And that heroine Xun'er herself. She is complete yandere."
"Welcome to Doupo Continent."
"The author needs to be investigated." He said it completely seriously.
I laughed. A real one this time. It felt strange coming out of a three year old's chest but I did not care.
Yan looked at me sideways. "Are you sure you told me everything? You did not miss anything important?"
I thought about it honestly. "I don't remember the whole stuff, bro. I might have omitted a few details but I have told you the broader stuff."
"Broader stuff," he repeated flatly.
"Yes."