Great Yu, Linji City.
South City District, City Guard Department Prison.
The cell block was damp and gloomy, the air thick with all sorts of foul odors. A young Prison Guard with a saber at his waist slowly paced as he patrolled the cells.
The young man's name was Chen Cheng. He had a gaunt face and a scrawny frame. With his arms hanging limp and his back slightly hunched, he swayed as he walked, looking as though a strong gust of wind could knock him over.
If not for the oversized, ill-fitting Prison Guard uniform he wore, one would have mistaken him for a destitute Scholar who knew only how to study and never got enough to eat.
Chen Cheng's eyes were half-closed, listless and languid.
But despite this half-dead appearance, wherever he passed, the prisoners would lower their heads in fear.
One or two new inmates didn't understand and tried to ask, but before a word could escape their lips, their cellmates would clamp their hands tightly over their mouths. Only after Chen Cheng was far away would they dare to whisper an explanation.
"That's Fierce Ah Cheng! Whatever you do, don't provoke him!"
Chen Cheng paid no mind to any of this, lost in his own thoughts.
In his mind, he clearly remembered living another life.
In that life, the world was relatively peaceful. Life was mostly a nine-to-five affair, with the occasional time passed on phones and computers.
His memories of this world, by contrast, were rather blurry. He was seventeen, just an ordinary young man.
Six months ago, his father had died from a serious illness. Following in his father's footsteps, Chen Cheng became a Prison Guard in the City Guard Department Prison.
It was only then that he awakened his Innate Wisdom and gained a much clearer understanding of his surroundings.
'A Prison Guard might seem impressive, treated like a lord by these inmates, but it's still a bottom-rung position. I have to find a way to get a better job.'
Strolling slowly to the death row section in the depths of the Prison, Chen Cheng stopped and sighed.
In this world, the Martial Dao was supreme. There were Martial Artists who cultivated it, flying high and moving freely, who could kill a person as easily as crushing a chick.
The saying 'when one's Martial Arts Cultivation succeeds, killing intent arises, and one breaks prohibitions with force' was no mere platitude.
Once outside the Prison, a Prison Guard was nothing. He could run into some violent martial practitioner any day and be easily dealt with.
'I still have to find a way to cultivate the Martial Dao. Becoming a Martial Artist is the only true path.'
With this silent thought, Chen Cheng took a step forward, his gaze falling upon the cell in the very back.
Inside the cell, a bald inmate in a prison uniform had been lying askew on the straw. As if sensing Chen Cheng's gaze, he instinctively shivered and sat up.
When he saw that Chen Cheng's hands were empty, the bald inmate let out a huge sigh of relief.
"Master Xiu Chen, hello," Chen Cheng said, his voice low and unhurried.
"Ah Cheng, I've really told you everything!" Master Xiu Chen shouted with all his might, his voice hoarse.
He wasn't old, maybe twenty-four or twenty-five. His prison uniform was tattered, his body was covered in bloodstains, and many patches of exposed skin were even scorched black, emitting a foul stench.
The only part of him that was still intact was his face. It was an exquisitely beautiful face—pale skin, slender phoenix brows, and star-like eyes. He looked so pitifully lovely that even the most beautiful woman would feel inadequate in his presence.
"Think it over again. We can talk after you've made up your mind."
After speaking coolly, Chen Cheng turned and left.
After finishing his patrol, he ran into the Prison Chief, Jiang Cheng, who was leading several Prison Guards into the Prison, escorting a man dressed in the style of the Jianghu.
"Ah Cheng, go collect your monthly salary. After you get it, come to the torture chamber," Jiang Cheng called out to him.
"Alright."
Coming out of the Deacon's Room and weighing the slightly deflated Money Bag in his hand, Chen Cheng stood at the Prison entrance with a troubled expression.
He was just a low-level Prison Guard. His monthly salary was eight maces of patterned silver, which was equivalent to 800 Wen in copper coins.
In an ordinary year, this would be enough to support a family of three or four for a month. But in the Great Yu of today, with years of famine, the prices of rice, flour, grain, and oil had skyrocketed. Even though the Chen Family only had two people, they would probably have to scrimp and save to get by.
"Life is hard!"
A cold gust of wind blew past, and Chen Cheng subconsciously shrank his neck. He turned to look at the sky, only to see that the weather, which had been fairly clear just moments ago, had changed in an instant. The sky suddenly darkened, and a frigid wind howled as a dense, cold rain mixed with sleet began to fall.
...
"Damn this blasted weather! Why the hell is it snowing out of nowhere?"
"Tell me about it! Winter just started and we're already getting snow like this. It's more than ten days earlier than last year!"
"I'm afraid this snow is going to last for several days."
"It's colder this year than in the past. It's probably going to be another year of freezing disaster. It's going to be tough to get through!"
The women of Locust Tree Lane, who had gone out of the city together to gather firewood, chattered amongst themselves as they hurried into the lane, racing toward their own courtyard gates.
A young girl, struggling to half-drag, half-carry a large bundle of dry branches, fell behind the rest.
She was about thirteen or fourteen years old, with a small, thin frame. Her face was covered in a thick layer of mud and grime, making her look filthy. Her thin, coarse-cloth blouse and skirt were mostly soaked through with sweat, rain, and snow.
"Xiaowan, we're almost home. Wait for me to unload my firewood, and I'll come help you."
The speaker was a middle-aged woman in coarse-cloth clothing, also carrying a heavy load of dry branches on a shoulder pole.
"No need, Auntie Cuihua. You go on ahead. I can manage."
Mu Xiaowan gave a stubborn smile.
"Alright. If you need help, just give a shout." Zhang Cuihua knew Mu Xiaowan was strong-willed, so after a word of advice, she quickened her pace and went on her way.
"Mhm," Mu Xiaowan nodded and continued to struggle forward, dragging the dry branches.
She had only gone a short distance when a tall, skinny, pockmarked man emerged from the lane, swaggering, with a boy of about ten in tow.
The pockmarked man's name was Ma Liu, a notorious local ruffian. He was an idle good-for-nothing who spent his days getting into petty trouble. The boy was Widow Tian's son, nicknamed Er Lengzi.
Mu Xiaowan recognized them and didn't want any trouble, so she moved to the side, planning to let them pass first.
"Well, well, if it isn't Chen Er's little lady. Tsk tsk, you're getting prettier and prettier.
That's a lot of firewood, must be heavy, right? Want Sixth Brother to help you out?"
Ma Liu walked up to Mu Xiaowan, looking her up and down with a lewd grin as he teased her.
"Get lost!"
Mu Xiaowan shouted, her voice echoing through half the lane.
"Oho! Quite the spitfire, aren't you! Chen Er is a weakling. I heard he's been seriously ill again recently. Hope he doesn't kick the bucket, eh? If something does happen to him, remember to find Sixth Brother to help with the burial. Don't worry, Sixth Brother has a good heart. I won't charge you," Ma Liu continued, not angry at all, with a smirk that didn't reach his eyes.
Mu Xiaowan was furious. She pulled a short stick from the bundle of dry branches and gripped it tightly in her hand.
"Ma Liu, you dare curse my Brother Cheng? Are you looking to die?"
Hearing the commotion, people from several nearby houses poked their heads out of their courtyard gates to watch the spectacle.
Faced with Mu Xiaowan's fierce demeanor, Ma Liu actually grew timid. Seeing he couldn't gain an advantage, he spat on the ground and turned to leave with Er Lengzi.
"Little lady of the Chen Family, we'll meet again! Er Lengzi, let's go!"
The two of them had only taken a few steps when Ma Liu coughed, tugged on Er Lengzi's sleeve, and gestured with his chin toward a stone on the ground.
As a well-known ruffian in the area, how could he let a little girl get the better of him?
If word of this got out, how could he maintain his reputation?
That Er Lengzi looked like a simpleton, but he had been hanging around Ma Liu for a while and understood that Ma Liu wanted him to make a move to assert dominance. He immediately picked up the stone and threw it at Mu Xiaowan.
Mu Xiaowan had just shouldered her firewood and was caught off guard. She had no time to dodge and could only instinctively lower her head to avoid it, but the stone still struck her on the forehead.
By the time she clutched her forehead and looked for a stone to throw back, Er Lengzi had already scampered away, shouting, "Little jinx, I hit the little jinx!"