Chapter One: The Scholar

Wilderness, an ancient road.

A gaunt horse moved slowly along, resembling an old man who had seen through the ways of the world, unruffled and calm.

Hung from the saddle were a sword and a bundle.

Seated astride the horse was a handsome scholar, upright and poised, clad in a simple, pale robe and a Tang-style headscarf. He gazed into the distance, his eyes reflecting the faint trails of smoke rising from a distant mountain village.

His robe, once elegant, was now somewhat yellowed from many washings and covered in the dust of travel, giving him the look of one who had journeyed long and far.

Yet none of this could conceal his inner vigor and spirit. In these troubled times, such a bearing was indeed rare.

“Hyah!”

Though the horse was old and thin, Cui Xiu harbored no complaints. Without this steed, the journey home would have relied entirely on his own strength—a feat not easily endured by most.

He sighed inwardly at the thought. His body was still weak, having once belonged to a scholar unskilled in the martial arts. Though he had exercised over the past month, his foundation remained poor, and little could be changed in such a short time.

It was not hard to understand—Cui Xiu was not the original owner of this body. In his past life, he had lived in a bustling world of skyscrapers and online shopping, an ordinary man with a pleasant enough life, never expecting to one day cross into another world.

But all that was behind him now. The crossing had been abrupt and a touch cruel, yet not wholly unacceptable. After all, he had been alone, recently single, and had left no one behind to mourn him.

As for his name in the previous world, he chose not to recall it—too complicated, and besides, who knew if there would ever be a chance to return?

Now, in this life, his name was Cui Xiu, styled Dongshan, from Ganzhou, Jiangxi. Eighteen years old, a scholar with honors, his parents still living, his family devoted to both farming and study. Though not wealthy, they fared better than most—a promising beginning indeed.

He had arrived in this world as the original Cui Xiu was taking the provincial exam in the prefectural city. The exam had ended, and he was awaiting the results at an inn when, weakened by exhaustion and anxiety over the outcome, the original soul had fallen gravely ill, giving Cui Xiu his chance.

Thanks to the care of a few fellow scholars from the same county, he gradually recovered. When the results were posted and his name was not among the successful, he packed his things and began his journey home—right now traveling along this very road.

As for the old horse, a classmate who had passed the exam had gifted it to him, seeing he had been so ill and would need help returning home. That friend, still attending to engagements in the city, had not yet set out.

Clip-clop...

Cui Xiu was pulled from his reverie by the sound of hooves and the creaking of a wagon approaching from behind.

He turned to see a simple yet elegant carriage drawn by a sturdy horse—far superior to his own, though not especially tall or grand.

At the reins sat a burly middle-aged man, whip in hand. The carriage itself was curtained, concealing its occupants.

Perhaps noticing Cui Xiu on his old horse, the carriage slowed.

Cui Xiu thought little of the encounter. As the carriage drew near, he nodded politely to the driver.

To his surprise, the curtain was drawn aside, revealing a young boy dressed as a page and a youthful scholar in simple robes—much like Cui Xiu himself.

The scholar seemed vaguely familiar, though he only cast Cui Xiu a cursory glance, offering no greeting. The little page, however, smiled at him.

A command was issued from within, and the driver nodded to Cui Xiu, urging the carriage forward.

Cui Xiu shook his head slightly, giving it little thought.

The smoke from the distant village seemed close, but he doubted he could reach it before nightfall. In these times, it was unwise to spend the night exposed on the wild road, and Cui Xiu, lacking means to protect himself, dared not dawdle. He patted his old horse’s neck and urged it onward.

...

The golden sun set in the west as the pale moon rose.

With another half-hour’s travel, he would reach the village whose smoke he had seen from afar. Suddenly, a childish sob reached his ears.

It sounded like a child crying.

He pulled his horse to a stop, instantly alert, his right hand moving to the sword at his side.

While this body was no warrior, a month’s care had restored some strength. With a sword in hand, he felt safer.

The sobbing continued. Following the sound, he spotted a small, thin figure.

In the dimming light, Cui Xiu saw it was a child, dressed in rough, patched clothing—likely from a nearby farmhouse.

He approached slowly, dismounting and hesitating only briefly before taking his sword.

“Little one, why are you crying here?”

He stopped a few paces away, keeping his voice gentle and not getting too close.

The child looked up, her hair done in two simple buns. Her small, dark face was streaked with tears.

Seeing Cui Xiu, she shrank back in fear.

It took some time before, still sobbing, she choked out, “I... Little Grass is lost... I can’t find home, Grandmother will be worried...”

He realized then she was a girl.

“Don’t be afraid, don’t be afraid. Big brother will take you home, is that alright?”

Relieved, Cui Xiu guessed she was from the village ahead and had simply lost her way.

A few words of comfort calmed her. He lifted her onto his old horse but walked alongside, leading the animal, his hand never leaving his sword.

After a while, they came upon a familiar carriage stopped by the roadside, near a small house at the edge of the woods.

Startled, Cui Xiu was about to speak when the little girl cried out in delight, “This is my home!”

She looked anxiously at Cui Xiu, squirming on the horse.

Grateful to have found her home, Cui Xiu lifted her down—her little hands were cold from the evening wind.

She tugged at his sleeve, pulling him toward the small house.

He did not resist, and soon they arrived at the courtyard, beside the carriage.

There stood the scholar and his companions from earlier, as well as an old woman holding another child.

The scholar showed no surprise at seeing Cui Xiu.

But the driver’s expression changed slightly, his gaze lingering on the girl at Cui Xiu’s side.

Cui Xiu did not notice, letting the little girl run to the old woman, then turning to face the scholar and his company.

On the road, a chance meeting required no formalities; but now, it would be impolite not to greet them properly.

He raised his hand in salute.

“I am Cui Xiu, styled Dongshan, from Anyuan County. Greetings to you all.”