The new book has been uploaded.
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Recommended book: "Liaozhai Travelogue"
Synopsis: Known as the King of Poetry, the Saint of Painting, praised as a Sword Immortal, called the Venerable of Dao—yet he only wishes for a peaceful, parasitic existence. Why is it so hard? Amid a bustling world, lands of desolation, demons, monsters, immortals, and gods. With a brush and a sword, a youth in blue robes travels. I am a madman from Chu, singing like a phoenix and laughing at Confucius. If comfort is unattainable, then let me embark on a shameless and carefree journey through Liaozhai with Xiaoqian, Ying Ning, Dragon Girl, Bai Suzhen, Zhu Yingtai, Seven Fairy Maidens, and a host of beautiful confidantes.
First Chapter:
A tingling numbness.
Something wet, something itchy—what is licking my face?
"Mm!" Liu Ping thought instinctively, wanting to open his eyes, but his head throbbed with pain, his bones felt disjointed, and agony surged like a tide. He could not help but cry out in pain, then quickly squeezed his eyes shut.
Indeed, something damp was licking his face. Enduring the pain, Liu Ping squinted. His retina was shrouded in darkness—only black and white, as if watching a silent film, devoid of color.
Before him was a thin, long-haired, thick-furred animal with a pointed snout, large upright triangular ears—a fox. The fox was licking Liu Ping’s face and lips, its eyes full of lively intelligence. Seeing Liu Ping awaken, it let out a cry: "Ah~ Woo woo~~"
"Mm..." His head still ached fiercely, but the pain in his body eased slightly. Liu Ping rubbed his temples, and his vision seemed to return; colors gradually emerged.
"Did I die?" His mind was overwhelmed with pain and haziness. He vaguely recalled that, unable to tolerate injustice, he had chased a brazen thief, only to be stabbed in the heart. Blood gushed, he collapsed, coldness crept in, consciousness faded into endless darkness, and then he awoke here.
Where is here...?
Trying to recall his past, memory was muddled and sticky, recollection became extremely difficult.
Suddenly, Liu Ping’s pupils lost focus.
Images flashed through his mind, narrating another person’s life.
Babbling as a newborn, mischievous childhood, diligent study under the lamp in youth...
The images finally froze at age thirteen. During leisure after studies, he wandered up the mountain and saw a little fox grasping dry grass on the cliff’s edge, kicking its legs, about to fall. The youth rushed to help, but lost balance and tumbled down the cliff.
"Wait... Does this mean I’ve transmigrated?" Liu Ping felt his headache ease, but realizing this truth left him stunned, unable to accept it for now.
Regardless of acceptance, once the images finished, information flooded his mind.
The owner of this body was also named Liu Ping, a native of Yangzhou, thirteen years old, just passed the "Tongsheng" exam.
Tongsheng generally refers to scholars yet to enter official studies.
But the qualification isn’t simple. One must pass two rounds of government-organized exams, both successfully, to be considered a Tongsheng. This requires thorough knowledge of the Four Books and Five Classics. To pass at thirteen, the original Liu Ping was already extraordinary.
With the Tongsheng qualification, one could participate in the Imperial Scholar exam—the Xiucai exam, which occurs in autumn, known as the "Autumn Imperial Exam." If successful, one becomes a Xiucai.
Being a Xiucai holds weight in this world. If one doesn’t pursue further exams, one could directly serve as an official of the ninth rank. But at best, one could advance to the seventh rank, a county assistant—a limit. With luck, one could even be promoted to county magistrate, but that is rare.
Based on the original owner’s situation, it was unlikely he would pass the autumn exam, but he was young—thirteen years old—far more advantageous than elderly, confused Xiucai, with plenty of opportunity ahead. Now, however, a soul from the twenty-first century had entered this body, so the opportunity fell to Liu Ping.
Yet Liu Ping did not desire this chance. Seeing all those classical texts made his head spin!
But since he had come, he must accept it. This is a second chance at life, a rare transmigration, and he could only brace himself to face it.
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He closed his eyes and carefully sifted through the memories of this body’s owner.
This world’s nation is called the Grand Xia Dynasty—so it was no longer Earth? Looking at the examination system, he thought he’d transmigrated to ancient times. The famous cultural figures, the Sage Confucius, seemed to echo Earth. Coincidence or fate?
This body’s family was a declining scholarly household. His father was a Xiucai, repeatedly unsuccessful in exams. To make a living, he opened a private school, teaching literacy. The family owned a dozen acres of land, enough for a modest existence—no wonder he passed the Tongsheng exam at thirteen, with a diligent father supervising.
He also had an adopted younger sister, eleven years old, no blood relation, possibly a child bride, likely to be promised as his wife in the future—this I like! Finally, a benefit for the transmigrator!
This world was rich in tales of ghosts and spirits, Daoism and Buddhism thriving—superstitious nonsense? Not worth mentioning! As a twenty-first-century atheist, he scoffed at all such strange tales.
Gradually, Liu Ping digested all the memories, the headache vanished. What he didn’t know was that as the pain faded, his wounds healed visibly, blood stains slowly disappearing. When he opened his eyes again, a snow-white fox sat obediently before him, not a hint of impurity in its fur.
"Wait!" Liu Ping suddenly remembered something, shouting, startling the white fox so much its fur bristled.
"Damn! I just fell off a cliff, so where am I now?" Liu Ping looked around, "Is this a cave beneath the cliff? How do I get back up? How do I return? Am I going to die here just after transmigrating?"
Thinking this, Liu Ping’s face turned pale with fear. He hurried outside, finding only steep cliffs below, with no path left or right.
"Is this for real?" Liu Ping looked at the abyss below, then up—still precipitous, impossible to climb. "No way..."
"No! Absolutely not... As the saying goes, 'falling off a cliff but surviving means a great encounter.' How could a transmigrator die here..."
Comforting himself, Liu Ping looked inside the cave—deep and dark, no light.
He swallowed hard, waved his hand, and the little fox leaped onto his palm with uncanny intelligence.
Cradling the fox, he walked into the darkness.
"Adventure, here I come..."
He mustered his courage and pressed forward. It grew darker, so dark he could not see his hand in front of his face. He set the fox on his shoulder, feeling his way along the walls. The sensation was unsettling.
The unknown is always terrifying. Though Liu Ping was an atheist, this eerie atmosphere frightened him.
"Hmm... I'll sing to boost my courage!"
"The great river flows eastward~! The stars above shine to the North Dipper!~"
"If we're going, let's go~! You, me, everyone!~"
"See injustice, shout aloud~! Take action when it's needed!~"
"Boldly blazing across the nine provinces~!"
Originally intending to sing the March of the Volunteers, Liu Ping chose instead the Hero Song. Wailing and howling, it actually helped; his spirits rose, and his fear faded.
"Eh!" After half an hour’s journey, he exclaimed in surprise—he saw light.
He hurried over, parted the foliage, looked around, and realized he was at the foot of the mountain.
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"Haha! Truly, Heaven never blocks all paths! The old city never deceives me!" Liu Ping said with delight, having long forgotten the saying about cliff falls and fortunate encounters.
Following the remembered path, Liu Ping walked out of the forest onto the mountain road.
Just then, a hunter descended from the mountain. Seeing Liu Ping, his eyes fixed greedily on the white fox on Liu Ping’s shoulder. He quickly called out, "Hey, young man! Wait, wait!"
Liu Ping stopped, looked at him, and asked, "What is it?"
His first exchange with someone in this world made him nervous. But the hunter’s next words enraged Liu Ping.
"Sell me the fox on your shoulder. I’ll give you a meal—enough to fill your stomach! What do you say?" The hunter eyed Liu Ping’s torn clothes from his fall, then spoke.
Liu Ping frowned. Did this guy take him for a beggar? Though his clothes were torn, could he not sense the natural aura of authority from this grand transmigrator? Truly blind!
The fox on his shoulder seemed to understand the hunter’s words, clutching his clothes tightly, its eyes showing sorrow. Liu Ping didn’t notice, but naturally refused to sell. He replied tersely, "No need!"
He turned to leave, but the hunter grew anxious. The white fox's pure fur could fetch dozens of taels if raised well—a handsome sum. He couldn’t bear to let it go.
The hunter blocked Liu Ping, face hardening. "Kid, don’t be ungrateful!" He reached for the fox.
Quick as lightning, Liu Ping slapped his hand away and scolded, "Impudent!"
His loud rebuke startled the hunter, and Liu Ping sternly admonished, "Do you know who I am? Son of Mr. Liu from Liu Village! I’ve already passed the Tongsheng exam—after autumn, I’ll be a Xiucai master. If you dare offend me again, I’ll break your legs!"
The stern words bluffed the hunter. This was no wild region; the law prevailed. The hunter, fearful, dropped to his knees: "I… I didn’t know your honored status. Forgive me, forgive me! Please pardon my offense!"
"This time I’ll let it pass. Next time, be smart. Don’t let a few taels cloud your mind and ruin your future!" Liu Ping said, waved his sleeve, and walked away.
On the mountain path, recalling the incident, Liu Ping felt no pride.
From this, he sensed even more deeply the rigid hierarchy of this world.
Though the hunter’s ignorance stemmed from a lack of education and experience, it revealed important truths.
"Sigh... If you don’t climb upward, it’s hard to live with dignity."
He sighed, muttered to himself, and continued onward. Just then, a voice sounded nearby—
"What a wondrous fate… Young friend, wait, wait!"
Liu Ping turned to see an old Taoist with a bull-horn nose, smiling as he approached.