021 Liang Kun?

The sun rose as usual, casting its golden light over the lush green forest, where a gentle breeze drifted through the trees. Li Daniu was roused from sleep by the cries of birds of an unknown species. The campfire he had painstakingly kept alive half the night before had long since burned out. He stretched and yawned, only to hear his stomach begin to grumble in protest.

"Starting a fire by friction was already difficult enough—do I have to go hunt for food myself too?" The thought that he was penniless and alone in the wilderness filled Li Daniu with sorrow.

"System, have you already found your next host and are just trying to get rid of me early?"

"This system does not possess the function of finding a new host before your death."

"So you're planning to kill me off first, then?"

"..."

Li Daniu was unfazed by the lack of response. He just wanted to vent—after all, his current predicament was truly dire.

"Thank you, Mountain God, for watching over me last night so that I was not dragged off by a wild beast or eaten alive by mosquitoes." After bowing respectfully to the Mountain God shrine a few times, Li Daniu stepped out of the temple. He was profoundly grateful for his foresight—forcing himself to kindle a fire despite his exhaustion. Otherwise, it wasn't just beasts and insects he would have had to worry about; the chill of the night alone would have been enough to leave him shivering and sick, dressed as thinly as he was.

Reflecting on it, he realized once again how adversity forces people to surpass themselves. Even managing to start a fire by friction—a skill he never thought he'd master—made Li Daniu feel he'd graduated from a complete weakling to at least a slightly more competent one.

It had been night when he crossed over to this world. Unlike the modern age, even larger towns in ancient times lacked lights that burned until dawn, so he hadn't been able to find any sign of habitation.

Now, with daylight brightening his surroundings, Li Daniu put his childhood tree-climbing prowess to good use. He scrambled up a tall tree, scanned the distance like a monkey, and spotted faint wisps of cooking smoke rising from afar. He even glimpsed rooftops through the haze. Completely forgetting his penniless state, Li Daniu eagerly clambered down and set off toward the signs of human life.

Fortunately, the system hadn't made things too difficult for him. By the time the sun reached its zenith, a starving and weary Li Daniu finally arrived at the market town.

"Hey! Aren't you Liu Er, the cake-seller? Why are you so late today?" A vendor about to pack up for the day spotted Li Daniu, who was in a sorry state. "Where's your cake cart?"

"Uh, I was robbed on the way here. Lost everything—not just my cart, I'm lucky to have escaped with my life." Li Daniu smoothly slipped into the role of a seasoned actor. And truth be told, after walking all morning on an empty stomach and unfamiliar roads, he looked every bit the part of someone who'd been robbed.

"Robbed? But this is the foot of Wudang Mountain! What kind of bandits would dare make trouble here? Aren't they afraid of the Wudang Sect?" the hawker said, incensed.

A few others nearby overheard the word "bandits" and gathered around, eager for gossip.

"Liu Er, serves you right! Why live in the mountains when you could stay in town like everyone else?"

"Exactly! You're not a hunter, just a cake-seller. Why travel so far every day?"

"Don't say that—he's unlucky enough as it is, being robbed."

Li Daniu listened to the chatter with a bitter smile. He didn't want to live in the mountains either—it was all the system's doing.

"Dear friends and neighbors, I'm exhausted and famished, and I don't have a penny to my name. Could someone spare a little help? I promise, I'll repay your kindness a hundredfold in the future," Li Daniu shamelessly pleaded.

"Heh, Liu Er, where did you pick up that line? 'Repay a hundredfold in the future'—what could a cake-seller possibly give in return?"

"Isn't that what that street performer said last time? Liu Er, you're quite the mimic."

"That's right! I remember seeing Liu Er cheering him on and not selling cakes at all that day."

Good grief, what kind of memories has the system implanted in these people? They even remember me watching the street performer! I wonder if there's a memory of me visiting a brothel—I'd love to know.

Jokes aside, the system, for all its tricks, was at least reliable this time. Whatever it had done to the memories of the townsfolk, almost every vendor seemed to know Liu Er by name.

"Here, have a stick of candied hawthorn to fill your stomach. That's all I can spare," offered an old man selling the treats.

"I have some water—take a drink, you look parched," said an elderly woman selling tea, handing him a bowl.

Such warmth and kindness moved Li Daniu deeply. He felt not the slightest guilt for deceiving these people—after all, he still intended to repay them someday.

"Let me tell you, it was a close call! I was carrying my cakes along the road when three big men leapt out from the trees, all armed—one with an axe, the others with a saber and a sword. Before I knew what was happening, the one with the axe shouted, 'This mountain is mine, and so is this tree...'" Li Daniu, not caring about the dusty roadside, sat down and began spinning a tale of how the humble cake-seller had been robbed, all while munching on treats and sipping water from his benefactors.

"I had all my worldly possessions on me—how could I just hand them over? I told them, 'This is the foot of Wudang Mountain, and the masters of the Wudang Sect often pass through here. You little thieves had better turn yourselves in before you get caught!'" Li Daniu paused for dramatic effect, taking a sip of water.

The candied hawthorn vendor, impatient, gave Li Daniu a kick. "If you don't hurry up, give me my treat back."

Li Daniu didn't dare push his luck, especially with such an elderly man.

"The fat one with the axe just laughed and said, 'So what if they're from Wudang? Once we join the imperial army, we'll bring soldiers to level Wudang Mountain!'"

"How dare they?" The crowd erupted in outrage. In these troubled times, the market town at the foot of Wudang owed its peace and safety to the lack of strategic value and the protection of the Wudang Sect. The townspeople were deeply grateful, and Li Daniu's tale had them indignant.

"Calm down, let me finish," Li Daniu hurriedly placated them. He'd forgotten for a moment that, while some Wudang disciples were less than admirable in the story, the sect itself was the most upright faction in the tale—at least until Song Qingshu and company seized power.

"The fat one's brothers quickly tried to shut him up, shouting, 'Please, masters of Wudang, don't mind him—he's out of his mind. We have no intention of joining the army!'"

"That's more like it. The heroes of Wudang are each worth ten men—no common bandit would dare challenge them."

"And at least two of those rascals have some sense."

While the crowd discussed, Li Daniu took another sip of water to steady his nerves. Even telling a story could be nerve-wracking in these times.

"Seeing that the robbers were afraid, I said, 'If you know what's good for you, you should run for your lives. If you rob me, the masters of Wudang will surely catch you and make an example of you.'"

"The fat one only laughed again, 'You're just a cake-seller—what connection do you have with the Wudang Sect? I don't believe they'd bother with us over you.'"

"Realizing they were determined to rob me, I shouted, 'My respects to Master Zhang!' The thieves fell for it completely, dropping to their knees and begging for mercy."

The crowd burst into satisfied laughter.

"Of course! Master Zhang of Wudang is respected throughout the realm."

"I've heard Master Zhang's martial arts are unmatched."

"That's nothing—Master Zhang is not only a martial arts master, but also remarkably long-lived. Today is his one hundredth birthday, you know!"

One hundredth birthday? Good heavens, does that mean I've landed right at the prelude of the story?

Li Daniu recalled the plot: after the introduction of the Dragon-slaying Saber and the Heavenly Sword, the prologue unfolded on Zhang Sanfeng's hundredth birthday, when Zhang Cuishan and his wife returned to Wudang with young Zhang Wuji.

Looking at the peaceful market, Li Daniu felt a jolt of panic. Wasn't it about time for Zhang Sanfeng to battle the Xuanming Elders? For Zhang Wuji to be struck by the Xuanming Divine Palm?

Knowing that a clash between martial arts masters would soon erupt right here, Li Daniu lost all interest in storytelling. These experts could kill with a single wave of their hand—perhaps he should slip away before things got dangerous.

"Liu Er, why are you daydreaming? Keep going," someone urged.

Seeing everyone waiting for him to finish the tale, Li Daniu realized he couldn't leave without wrapping it up. "So while they were busy begging for mercy, I took the chance to run away."

"That's it?"

"Yeah, what else? You think I could have fought them for three hundred rounds?" Li Daniu replied with a blank look.

"Three hundred rounds? With your build, even I could knock you down," the old hawthorn vendor chuckled, picked up his basket, and left.

Li Daniu glanced around—the old man was the only hawthorn vendor. He recalled that, soon, Yin Susu would come to buy hawthorn for Zhang Wuji. Should he go and witness the legendary Yin Susu for himself? She was, after all, the woman who uttered that famous truth:

The more beautiful a woman is, the better she is at lying.

"Brother, you seem to have lost your means of livelihood and have nothing left. Here, take some silver," someone said.

Li Daniu snapped to attention at the mention of money—a timely gift indeed.

He turned to see the man offering silver, and blurted out, "Liang Kun?"

"Are you talking to me, brother? My name is Zhang Cuishan, not Liang Kun," the man replied.

Li Daniu remembered he wasn't in the world of triad movies, and this wasn't the notorious villain played by Francis Ng, but Zhang Cuishan, one of the only true gentlemen in the story.

"Ah, my mistake. You just look like a friend of mine."

"Fate, perhaps. Here, brother, don't mind if it's not much—consider it compensation for the Wudang Sect's lack of vigilance."

Looking at the silver in his hand, Li Daniu was deeply conflicted. Zhang Cuishan, by all accounts, was a man of loyalty and righteousness. Not only was he generous in the narrative, but even now, upon hearing of Li Daniu's misfortune, he felt compelled to make amends.

But in just a little while, this very man would be driven to suicide on Wudang Mountain by the relentless questioning of so-called righteous sects. Wasn't that a tragedy? Yet, if Zhang Cuishan didn't die, Zhang Wuji's entire life would change.

To save him or not to save him—that was the question.