Chapter Fifty-Six

In Black Tiger Stronghold, which had just received the resources from Meteorite Sect, Cheng Yuan and the other players quickly realized something: they were woefully behind in management systems, production methods, hygiene, and culture. Meteorite Sect did nothing beyond collecting taxes; effective management was nonexistent. Worse still, disciples of the sect would bully and oppress the villagers, committing acts that endangered society, ruling solely by force. Though these people were now dead, when Cheng Yuan and the others saw the vacant eyes and frail bodies in the village, he declared he could not stand it any longer and immediately launched a rural campaign.

For the first time, these NPCs—previously mere background characters—felt the difference between Black Tiger Stronghold and Meteorite Sect. Some newly joined players hadn’t even figured out what was happening. After registering their names and being identified as players, they were dispatched to the countryside.

Meteorite Sect oversaw five villages, each barely alive. The players’ tasks were many and varied, from basic farming to education, from building houses to infrastructure like roads. For the first time, they understood what true freedom meant in a fully open world game; their original intention of just spectating and playing the hero had quietly shifted.

A week later, Li Tianxiang, who had just arrived in Quzhou, finally found time to browse the forums. As the most celebrated newcomer who hadn’t even left the starter village but had already slaughtered Black Tiger Stronghold, Li Tianxiang was famous in the game and thoroughly enjoyed the adulation.

This time, however, he sensed something different. He saw threads discussing the design of a simplified generator, with a lively debate underway. Checking the poster’s game IP: Youzhou? For Li Tianxiang, whose mind was full of fighting and striving for supremacy, this was utterly baffling.

This thread seemed oddly out of place among the usual online game strategies. Li Tianxiang didn’t dwell on it, switching the discussion area to the Youzhou section. After all, the Star Chart never lied; it had foretold a bloodbath in the martial world—a major event, which, though unknown in his previous life, must have left some trace.

Once switched, he was stunned. “The Three Divine Manuals Every Black Tiger Stronghold Member Must Have!” Black Tiger Stronghold? Wasn’t it reduced to mere rabble a month ago by his own hand? Something was very wrong—almost entirely wrong. As a reborn player, Li Tianxiang found the Youzhou forum unfamiliar; nothing like this existed in his previous life.

Scrolling further: “How to Grow Chives?” “How to Treat Chronic Malnutrition?” “Diagram of the Curved Plow.” This had gone beyond mere unfamiliarity; Li Tianxiang felt Youzhou’s players were playing a completely different game from those in other states. In a martial arts game, what was all this?

If Youzhou’s players were like scientists among a crowd of heroes in the general server, then the Youzhou forum was more like a group of scientists with just a sprinkling of heroes.

Li Tianxiang felt a strange unease and clicked on the top thread, posted by “Fishing Alone Among Myriad Shares.”

“Thanks to Black Tiger Stronghold’s leader, Cheng Yuan, and his innovative ideas, we now understand the true way to play a fully open-world martial arts MMO. ‘The great virtue of a hero lies in serving the nation and its people.’ True freedom isn’t for brawling and fighting; how many can benefit from endless rivalry? Join Black Tiger Stronghold, try building a new world within the game—that’s the real meaning here.

Given how backward things are, I recommend anyone wanting to join Black Tiger Stronghold prepare at least three divine manuals at home: ‘Barefoot Doctor’s Handbook,’ ‘Militia Military Training Manual,’ and ‘Guide for Dual-Use Talents in Military and Civilian Fields.’ This saves you from searching the encyclopedia, and flipping through books is faster than typing in Baidu to check authenticity.

Only after solving hunger can we talk of poetry and distant horizons. That’s my personal advice—feel free to add your own suggestions.”

Li Tianxiang stared at the post. “Did I enter the wrong game? Are people criticizing him?” He opened the replies. The first said:

“Shouldn’t the list include ‘Introduction to Maoism’ and ‘Moral Education’? Teaching in Xiaogou village, I feel the children lack goals in life and motivation to study. Should we introduce civic education?”

Wait, what are they doing here? He understood every sentence, but why was it here? Scrolling further, he saw players from other states criticizing, but none from the thread’s author, and Youzhou’s natives seemed highly engaged.

Black Tiger Stronghold! Li Tianxiang sensed something was off and decided to visit the bandit stronghold in Youzhou he had once slaughtered.

Elsewhere, a group of trainers frowned at the players lying in the sleep pods before them, including Cheng Yuan, Jiang Liwen, and other classmates—even teachers were among them.

“This is tricky. Some unknown calamity has locked these students and teachers into its own assimilation domain, and the calamity is likely a cognitive-data type monster. We can only wait for the game to be cleared; only then might the monster reveal itself. But the game has only just begun.”

“Let’s hope the game made by this monster doesn’t fit the environment. Otherwise, the college entrance exam will be delayed.”

Another month passed. Originally, the children in the village were skinny as sticks, but now had gained some flesh, though their faces remained gaunt—more nurturing was needed.

During this time, Black Tiger Stronghold’s growing power unsettled neighboring sects, who sent “masters” to probe, targeting Black Tiger Stronghold. Yet most were spotted and sent packing by players multitasking through the villages. It was hard to miss: amidst a crowd of emaciated villagers, a few robust, well-fed men stood out. Even if blind in real life, you could see clearly in the game.

When arrogant masters insisted on interfering, annoyed players simply called in the army to surround and wipe them out. “I’m busy planting vegetables to improve village meals, and you’re here freeloading?”

Zhao Ping looked at the blackboard hanging on the wall—a new addition from Black Tiger Stronghold. Previously, he had to use charcoal to teach the children; now, finally, there was something better, though chalk was scarce. For the first time, Zhao Ping realized that the chalk he used to throw around in school was actually precious.

A small, tearful voice sounded, “T-teacher, how do I write my name? I didn’t remember it.”

Zhao Ping turned and saw a frightened little boy before him, fearful but now with a hint of trust.

Zhao Ping sighed, “Li Wa—‘Li’ as in wood, you should know how to write ‘wood,’ right? Try it.” The boy took out a piece of charcoal, ready to draw on the wall. Zhao Ping snatched the charcoal from Li Wa’s grimy hand and handed him a piece of white chalk, pointing to the blackboard.

“Write here from now on.”

Li Wa touched the smooth blackboard with his small hand, then pulled back, wiping it with his sleeve.

“You haven’t written anything yet, why are you wiping the board?” Li Wa asked incredulously, “Really write on this?”

“Yes, unless you want me to demonstrate?”