1 Chapter 1: A Humble Beginning in Língmíng

In a world untouched by the winds of change, where the boundaries between the ordinary and the extraordinary were as elusive as a whisper in the night, a young man by the name of Li Shan found himself at the threshold of his sixteenth year. Born into the embrace of a humble commoner family, their lives were woven into the fabric of the rustic village of Língmíng.

Língmíng was nestled deep within the vast Wei Kingdom. It was a land surrounded by undulating hills and thick forests, far removed from any substantial water sources. Water, the lifeblood of existence, was a rare treasure here. The villagers depended on a central well, drawing their sustenance from the depths of the earth.

Life in Língmíng was defined by its simplicity and the weight of toil. Families like the Shans eked out their existence through farming, their days filled with ceaseless labor to cultivate crops that could feed them through the year. The village boasted its share of hunters, skilled men and women who ventured into the nearby woods to supplement their meager meals through hunting. Yet, despite their collective efforts, poverty remained a constant companion in Língmíng.

Li Shan occupied the role of second eldest among his six brothers and two sisters. They resided within a humble thatched-roof dwelling, a home that bore the weathered scars of years gone by. It was a place where they shared not only meals but dreams and laughter—a sanctuary amidst the hardships of rural life.

Life in Língmíng was marked by simplicity and hardship. Families like the Shans eked out their existence through farming, working tirelessly to cultivate crops that would sustain them throughout the year. Under the relentless gaze of the sun, Li Shan and his family toiled in the fields, their brows glistening with sweat, their muscles aching from the labor.

The sun, an unyielding orb of searing heat, bore down upon them, transforming the earth beneath their feet into dry, cracked soil. It was a stark reminder of the unforgiving nature of their existence, a relentless force that demanded their resilience and fortitude. Each day, they battled the elements, coaxing life from the land.

As the day wore on, Li Shan's skin tingled with the fiery embrace of the sun. His calloused hands, worn from hours of tilling the earth, clung to the plow's handle with unwavering determination. The crops they planted held the promise of sustenance, the hope of survival in a world where nature could be both generous and cruel.

Li Shan's head throbbed, his thoughts a turbulent storm of confusion and memories that didn't belong to him. He clutched his chest as if trying to contain the whirlwind of sensations within. "Reincarnated," he whispered, his voice trembling, as if the words themselves were alien.

With slow, uncertain movements, Li Shan rose to his feet. His gaze darted around, taking in the familiar fields, the towering trees, and the distant outline of Língmíng village. Yet, everything felt different, as if he were seeing them through a new lens of understanding.

In the corner of his vision, a strange phenomenon unfolded—a cobalt-blue screen materialized, its presence as mystifying as the world itself. Li Shan's eyes widened in astonishment. "What is this?" he gasped, his voice barely more than a breath of wonder.

The screen displayed a list of creatures, their names written in ancient script alongside cryptic symbols. Each entry was accompanied by a numerical value, like a price waiting to be paid. Li Shan's heart quickened as he realized that these were no ordinary creatures but beings of extraordinary power.

In the left upper corner of the screen, the words "System Coin" were etched in elegant script. It was a tantalizing clue, a hint at the currency needed to unlock the mysteries of the system.

Eager to understand more, Li Shan reached out and tapped one of the creature's names. His fingers pressed the screen with a sense of anticipation, but nothing happened. Frustration welled up inside him, and he tried again, tapping harder this time, as if sheer willpower could unlock the secrets of the system.

Scratching his head in doubt, Li Shan mumbled, "How do I earn system coins?" He attempted to charge the system with fifteen copper coins, but his efforts were futile. In the following days, he searched for various items to charge the system, but the mystery remained unsolved.

He tried to swipe the screen, to press every button he could find, but each attempt yielded the same result—nothing. 

After a few days, he decided to put the matter aside for the time being.

After Li Shan's frustrating attempts to understand the system, he returned to the rhythms of his daily life, at least the way his old self used to live it. He knew that abrupt changes in behavior could raise suspicions among the villagers. He didn't want them to think of him as an outsider or, worse, a ghost. So, he continued to tend to the crops, cultivating vegetables and watering them with the same dedication as before.

Some days, pests would descend upon the fields, their insatiable appetites threatening the harvest. In the past, Li Shan would have set traps and diligently guarded the crops, as the former Li Shan had done. It was part of the routine that the villagers expected of him, and it allowed him to blend in seamlessly.

Yet, beneath the facade of the old Li Shan's life, a new vision had taken root within him—a vision born of the memories from his past life. He yearned for something more, something beyond the familiar routines of a humble farmer.

In the quiet of the night, he would steal moments to study the system screen, hidden from prying eyes.

As days passed, Li Shan's father ventured into the farming area. Old Shan, as he was affectionately called by the villagers, bore the physical marks of years spent toiling under the relentless sun. His once midnight-black hair had turned a striking silver-white, a testament to the passage of time and the hardships he had endured. Standing at a modest height, his body boasted a compact and sturdy build—a reflection of his years of labor in the fields. His skin had adopted a deep brunette hue from years of relentless sun exposure, marked by the telltale signs of sunburns.

Despite the visible wear and tear on his body, Old Shan carried himself with an air of quiet strength—a testament to the resilience that defined the villagers of Língmíng.

Old Shan surveyed the field with eagle eyes and spotted a mouse nibbling at his cabbage. Raising his voice, he called out to his son, "There are those pesky mice in the field again. Can you deal with them, or should I fetch your older brother, Li?"

Li Shan quickly spotted his target—a tiny mouse that had ventured out from its hiding place. With a deep breath, he crouched low, moving stealthily with careful and deliberate steps as he approached the unsuspecting creature. The earth beneath his fingers was dry and warm, bearing the imprints of Língmíng's struggles.

Li Shan advanced slowly, remaining mindful of every rustling leaf and shifting breeze. His sun-bronzed skin blended with the earth, granting him a semblance of camouflage. The mouse, engrossed in nibbling a stray seed, remained oblivious to the approaching danger.

With every inch closer, Li Shan's hand inched forward, fingers poised to strike. He had fashioned a makeshift weapon from a slender reed he had plucked from the fields earlier. With a swift and practiced motion, he lunged, the reed becoming an extension of his arm. The mouse sensed the danger too late. Li Shan's reed struck true, delivering a swift and merciful end to the unsuspecting creature. The mouse's small form went limp, its tiny heart ceasing its frantic rhythm. Li Shan had claimed his first life in this world, and with it, his first system coin. He gazed at the lifeless mouse for a moment, a mix of emotions swirling within him—remorse for ending a life, relief at having obtained a system coin, and a deep understanding that this path he had chosen was fraught with challenges and moral dilemmas. With the mouse cradled in his hand

Old Shan, once a skilled hunter but now unable to venture into the woods due to a past injury, praised his son with a hopeful glint in his eye. "Good job," he said, "with this speed, maybe you can become a hunter one day."

The mouse lay lifeless in Li Shan's calloused hand, its once-gray fur now a shimmering silver in the waning light of day. Its petite form, no larger than his palm, appeared fragile against the backdrop of his sun-bronzed skin. A closer inspection revealed delicate whiskers, remnants of the creature's innocent curiosity, now stilled forever. The blood that had oozed from the tiny wound glistened like a rare gem, a stark contrast to the muted tones of the mouse's fur.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows over the village of Língmíng, Li Shan's family gathered around a modest fire, their faces lit by the dancing flames. In a place where the consumption of meat was a rare and treasured occasion, the small mouse held significance beyond its humble appearance.

Li Shan's mother, her eyes brimming with pride, took the mouse from her son's hand. With practiced hands, she deftly removed its fur, revealing the pale pink flesh beneath. She used a small, sharp knife, the same one that had seen countless harvests before, to carefully peel away the fur. The process required a delicate touch, for the mouse's delicate skin tore easily. Li Shan watched in quiet fascination, appreciating the skill that his mother had honed over the years.

Li Shan couldn't contain his surprise and joy. "Mother," he began, "I had no idea you were so skilled at this."

His mother's face lit up with a humble pleasure as she continued her task. "Well, my boy," she replied with a warm smile, "I've been keeping my mouse-fur removal skills a well-guarded secret. Who knew it would take a village hero like you to bring them out!"

Laughter erupted from Li Shan's family about this funny remark.

The removal of the fur was a delicate dance, each stroke of the knife revealing more of the mouse's flesh. It was a task that required patience, and Li Shan marveled at his mother's expertise. She worked swiftly yet with precision, and soon, the mouse was transformed from a small, furry creature into a plump piece of meat.

As the aroma of cooking filled the air, Li Shan's family gathered around the fire, their mouths watering in anticipation. The scent of roasted meat was a rare treat, a luxury reserved for special occasions. Tonight, the occasion was Li Shan's first kill, and the family celebrated his achievement.

Li Shan's father, Old Shan, offered words of praise, his voice filled with pride. "Well done, Li Shan," he said, his eyes filled with encouragement. "This could be the start of your path as a hunter."

Li Shan's mother, her brow furrowed in worry, suddenly raised her voice, "Old Shan, are you sure about this? Hunting can be so dangerous!"

Li Shan's older brother, a jovial and cautious individual who shared his father's stocky build, nodded vigorously in agreement with their mother. He gave a lighthearted chuckle, "Yeah, little brother, listen to Mom. Why risk your neck in the wild when you can have a safe, stable life right here in Língmíng?"

Old Shan, suggesting that his son try the new path while still leaving room to return to farming if needed. 'Son, I've always said, it's good to try new things'

Li Shan  little brother and two sisters had supported his aspiration to become a hunter. 'I think it's exciting! Imagine all the game you'll bring home, Li Shan!' his little brother exclaimed with enthusiasm. The family's conversations had been charged with passion, each member voicing their fears and hopes in turn, creating a whirlwind of conflicting emotions within their small home."

As Li Shan gathered his family in the dimly lit room, the tension hung heavy in the air. His father, Old Shan, sat by the table, his hands clasped in anticipation. His mother stood near the hearth, her arms folded, her expression anxious. His older brother leaned against the wall, watching intently, his brows furrowed. Meanwhile, his younger brother and two sisters sat on a worn-out sofa, their eyes filled with curiosity and hope.

Taking a deep breath, Li Shan looked at each of them in turn, his posture steady, his voice unwavering. "I've thought long and hard about this," he began, "and I've made my decision." He paused, letting the weight of his words settle in the room.

Old Shan leaned forward, his eyes fixed on his son, awaiting the verdict.

Li Shan continued, his voice steady but determined, "I've made my decision. I will become a butcher's apprentice. It's a more stable way of earning money."

His mother's eyes filled with happiness, and a warm smile spread across her face. She clasped her hands together, her body language radiating joy and support for her son's choice. His older brother couldn't help but smile too, pleased to see Li Shan taking a practical and responsible path.

However, his father's face darkened with dissatisfaction. He let out a deep sigh and looked away, unable to hide his disappointment at his son's decision.