In his memories, the Original Owner, Jiang Xun, had been relatively honest, managing to make a living by relying on the skills of mountain foraging and medicine gathering he had learned from his father.
Though his talent was mediocre, he could barely live a peaceful life by holding onto the meager property his father had left behind.
But that all changed a year ago.
Since the death of the Original Owner's father, this Zhao Peng had enthusiastically invited him several times, leading the Original Owner into an inconspicuous gambling house at the west end of town that had powerful backing.
Jiang Xun himself was just a youth of seventeen or eighteen.
He lacked experience and was simple-minded.
Compounded by the grief of losing his father, he mistakenly treated Zhao Peng as a close brother, never imagining that the man was treating him like a pig for the slaughter.
The gambling house's public manager was known as "Brother Hu."
With a thick waist, broad shoulders, and a face full of scars, he was a well-known ruthless character in town.
But anyone who knew even a bit of the inside story was aware that Zhao Peng and Brother Hu were the true brothers.
One used his father's legacy and the convenience of his official position to provide protection, while the other was responsible for operations and the dirty work of debt collection.
The Original Owner's pitiful family assets were like a piece of fatty meat targeted by these two; in one year, they had gnawed it until not even bone fragments remained.
In the end, this ten-tael "King of Hell's Debt" was nothing more than the rope used to pull in the net.
What made Jiang Xun's skin crawl even more was another layer of calculation: Zhao Peng had likely harbored designs on Jiang Wanxing for a long time.
He was only hindered by the town's rules, making it difficult to seize her directly.
That was why he had approached the Original Owner with such a warm face.
It was highly probable that the moment Jiang Xun sold Jiang Wanxing into the Chunxiang Courtyard, she would have appeared in Zhao Peng's home the next second.
Jiang Xun turned around, his gaze sweeping over the dusty rooftops of the small town, looking toward the distant mountain range that crouched like a reclining dragon.
The Yunqi Mountain Range.
This Yunshan Town existed by clinging to this mountain range.
The town's history wasn't long; it had initially been nothing more than a settlement for a few herb gatherers attracted by the medicinal ingredients in the mountains.
Over time, it gathered into a town.
The Yunqi Mountain Range stretched for thousands of miles; its depths were rife with miasmas and pestilence, and fierce beasts often descended the mountains to pillage.
However, being under the protection of an Immortal Sect.
There was no great harm.
The price, however, was that a certain quantity of specified medicinal herbs had to be handed over every month, known as the "Medicinal Tax."
For the townspeople, although they lost part of their harvest, they gained a relatively stable living environment, which could be considered a fair trade.
Returning to that earthen hut which still lingered with the faint scent of chicken soup and sorrow, Jiang Wanxing had already wiped away her tears and was helplessly cleaning up the broken bowl and stains on the floor.
Seeing Jiang Xun return, she looked up; her eyes were still red and swollen, but they were filled mostly with a thick, inseparable worry and despair.
"Brother..." her voice was raspy and tearful, "Ten taels of silver, plus ten stalks of chixin grass... by the end of the month... what, what are we going to do?"
Ever since Father Jiang fell off the cliff, this home had been like a boat with a hole, constantly sinking.
The original meager savings had long since bottomed out under Jiang Xun's squandering and idleness.
Now, even the last bit of hope—that egg-laying hen—was gone.
Jiang Wanxing suddenly grabbed Jiang Xun's sleeve, her fingers icy cold.
A final, desperate light flickered in her eyes, and her voice was kept extremely low but trembled: "Brother, let's... let's run away!
Leave Yunshan Town, anywhere will do! I can walk, I can endure hardships!"
"Run away?"
Jiang Xun gently pulled his hand away without saying a word and walked straight to the earthen wall.
He hadn't forgotten this sister who wanted to take his life.
Even if she had her reasons, Jiang Xun didn't intend to trust her.
Hanging there was a wood-cutting machete tied with hemp rope. He untied the rope and took the blade in his hand.
The knife was about half a meter long with a heavy body. Due to long-term use and sharpening, the middle part of the edge was slightly concave, glinting with a dim, dark light.
The most distinctive feature was a small reverse hook at the tip of the blade. This was a customary practice for old herb gatherers; it prevented the blade from being damaged by direct impact with hard objects while hacking and could also be used to hook or pry things when necessary.
The handle was wrapped in thick cloth strips soaked in sweat and grime, feeling coarse and steady in his grip.
This was left behind by the Original Owner's father, likely one of the few family assets the Original Owner hadn't squandered.
Jiang Xun weighed it; it was very heavy.
He gave it two casual swings, and the sound of it cutting the air was muffled.
Seeing this scene, Jiang Wanxing instinctively shrank her body.
She hadn't seen Jiang Xun pick up this knife in a long time.
"Run away? To where?" Jiang Xun spoke, his voice calm, yet it was like cold water extinguishing the last spark in Jiang Wanxing's eyes.
"Outside Yunshan Town, there are no signs of human life for a hundred miles, only even more desolate ridges and wild beasts.
Without sufficient rations, water, or a guide, two people wouldn't last three days in the mountains."
"And according to the town's rules, the caravans of outside herb merchants are strictly forbidden from smuggling local residents out," he continued to state, as if analyzing a simple fact.
"Once discovered, the entire caravan would be blacklisted, never allowed to enter Yunshan for procurement again.For them, taking such a risk for two strangers isn't worth it."
The light in Jiang Wanxing's eyes completely died out, leaving only a grayish defeat.
She knew her brother was right.
The town's control over its residents was extremely strict, making entry and exit very difficult; the only contact they had was with outside herb merchants.
This town was like an invisible cage; it looked like there were roads, but in reality, there were copper walls and iron bastions on all sides.
"So," Jiang Xun flicked his wrist, and the wood-cutting machete carved a short arc in the air, "the way out isn't on the outside; it's on the inside."
By gathering enough chixin grass to pay the tax, perhaps he could strike it lucky and find even more valuable Spirit Medicine to settle that lethal ten-tael debt.
He said no more and began to swing the machete rhythmically.
It wasn't random hacking; he was trying to find a certain feeling of exerting force and finishing the stroke.
The blade cut through the air, making a "whooshing" sound.
Jiang Wanxing silently stepped aside, watching his quiet and focused profile. Her lips moved, but she ultimately said nothing more, turning to the kitchen area to continue cleaning up the mess, her movements even lighter for fear of disturbing him.
And within her sleeve, half of the poison powder remained... Swing, retract, swing again.
Sweat gradually seeped from his brow.
The Original Owner of this body had neglected exercise; both strength and endurance were barely satisfactory.
But Jiang Xun wasn't impatient; he simply repeated the simple movements, feeling the soreness of his muscles and adapting to the weight of the weapon, using this method to clear his thoughts and settle his mind.
Just as his mind drifted slightly and he delivered a diagonal slash, the moment the blade's trajectory perfectly overlapped with an imaginary virtual target.
[Ding!]
A crisp notification sound that only he could hear rang out in his mind.
Immediately after, that familiar semi-transparent panel automatically popped up, floating in front of his vision:
[Detected continuous practice of the basic movement 'Chop'.]
[Allocatable proficiency: 100.]
[Would you like to allocate proficiency to the 'Chop' skill?]
It really came!
Jiang Xun's heart settled; he knew that proficiency were like experience books in a game.
As long as there was a skill, he could add points.
He did not hesitate.
Right now, any slight increase in immediate combat power was crucial.
"Allocate 10 points."
With a thought, the numbers on the panel jumped.
Instantly, a strange sensation flowed through his right arm holding the knife, and then through his entire body.
It wasn't a surge of strength, but a kind of... familiarity.
It was as if this heavy, slightly unfamiliar wood-cutting machete in his palm had suddenly become an extension of his arm.
How to grip it for maximum efficiency and stability, how to swing it to unleash the blade's full power, and how to adjust the angle to deal with different situations.
Countless subtle, almost instinctive "experiences" flooded his mind and quickly fused with his muscle memory.
He swung the knife again.
"Whoosh—!"
The sound of the wind suddenly became sharp and short; the blade flashed, heavy and powerful.
The entire movement was smooth and natural, as if he had cleaved like this tens of thousands of times.
With 10 proficiency, the effect was immediate.
Jiang Xun stopped his movements, exhaling slowly, a flash of pleasant surprise in his eyes.
He had only experimentally added ten points of proficiency.
What if he added a hundred?
He looked at the knife in his hand, then at the remaining 90 proficiency on the panel, feeling greatly reassured.
To survive and live peacefully,
Strength was always the top priority.
[Basic 'Chop' Movement: Proficient (10/100)]
[Can be upgraded to Mastery.]