The next morning, as the sky began to lighten, Lin Rui was roused by a soft knock.
"Young Master Rui, it is time for the morning meal," Zhutao's voice drifted through the door, cautious and soft.
Lin Rui rubbed his groggy head and pushed himself up.
Though the last of the Spirit-Corroding Powder had been purged, years of neglect had left his body frail. The slightest exertion brought a wave of fatigue. Only his mind, a gift from his past life, remained exceptionally sharp. He took a deep breath of the cool morning air, his gaze hardening.
In this damn place, if I want to survive, to uncover the truth of the original's murder and find my so-called father… I can't do a single thing without strength.
The fragment of the [Azurewood Heart Chant] was his only hope.
The breakfast Zhutao brought was light: a few meat buns, small side dishes, and a bowl of hot rice porridge. After sending her away, Lin Rui solemnly retrieved the yellowed beast-hide scroll from his robes, along with the few pages of notes tucked inside.
The script on the scroll was ancient, blurred, and illegible in places.
He studied it, piecing it together with the sparse annotations from his father. Gradually, an outline of the [Azurewood Heart Chant] began to form. The cultivation method was a strange amalgamation. It contained techniques for guiding spiritual energy to temper the body and condense a "Dan Fire," but it also documented bizarre breathing postures and diagrams of fist and foot techniques reminiscent of his past life's combat arts—labeled "Azurevine Bind" and "Inch-Force Strike."
The more he read, the deeper his brow furrowed. This was a world away from the mainstream cultivation methods he'd heard about. Conventional arts emphasized the flow through meridians and the strength of one's Qi sense.
But the [Azurewood Heart Chant] began with a different principle: "unifying heart and mind, using intent to guide energy, and connecting with the vitality of all living wood."
Lin Rui's fingertips tapped the table.
"It doesn't rely on innate aptitude?" he mused.
If that were true, it made no sense that the original Lin Rui had practiced for years without even reaching the first threshold of Mystic Art Enlightenment. Unless… the unifying heart and mind part required exceptional mental strength.
The body he inhabited was powered by a modern soul. In mental fortitude and focus, he could rival anyone.
"A long shot," he muttered, "but I have to try."
He sat cross-legged on his bed and forced all distracting thoughts from his mind, attempting the "Meditation on Wood" described in the scroll. He imagined himself as an ancient tree rooted deep in the earth, absorbing the vitality of the sun and rain.
Time trickled by. One hour, then two.
Sweat soaked his robes. The veins on his temples bulged as his frail body protested the intense concentration. Just as he was about to give up, his mind drifted into a haze. And in that void, an almost imperceptible wisp of cool energy seeped into his awareness.
It carried the faint fragrance of grass and wood. It was weak, but it was real.
The vitality of living plants!
A jolt went through him. Suppressing a wave of excitement, he carefully guided the wisp through his body as the method described. The process was clumsy, but the energy was there.
A long while later, he opened his eyes and exhaled a turbid breath. His body ached with fatigue, but a profound euphoria made his eyes shine. Forgetting his exhaustion, he opened the scroll again, finding the training exercises. They were less like combat moves and more like a set of strange calisthenics.
Gritting his teeth against the soreness, he mimicked the movements one by one, trying to integrate the "vegetal vitality" he had sensed. This was the first time since arriving in this world that he had touched a power of his own, however small.
By the time he was done, the sun was nearing its zenith. He collapsed on the bed, drenched in sweat, his chest heaving. The wisp of vitality had dissipated without a trace.
He wiped the sweat from his face, no dejection in his eyes.
"Tsk. Flying blind is getting me nowhere."
That first success proved the method was viable. The problem was how to reliably draw in the energy.
"Looks like I have to make a trip to the market," he decided.
The Zhuyun Town marketplace was the chaotic heart of the old prefecture capital, the perfect place to gather information or perhaps acquire some basic herbs. Better than fumbling in the dark.
Lin Rui changed into a clean set of coarse linen and pushed open his door.
Outside the courtyard, two powerfully built family servants stood at attention. They bowed upon seeing him. "Young Master Rui."
Lin Rui gave a slight nod and walked toward the main gate. Having someone with him was better than running into trouble alone.
Beyond the great, vermilion-lacquered gates, the clamor of the city rushed in.
The wide bluestone streets were flanked by a forest of shops, their wine banners fluttering in the wind. Cultivators with sword boxes on their backs walked with cold purpose. Street vendors shouted their wares from carrying poles, while gaggles of children chased each other, laughing, clutching colorful sugar paintings.
A vendor selling "Spirit-Qi Candy Haws" noted Lin Rui's plain clothes, then the two imposing guards behind him. His eyes flickered, but he kept his distance.
Lin Rui took it all in. The vibrant scene felt strangely familiar, like wandering the streets of Los Angeles—except here, shop signs read "Spirit Xuan Artifact House" and "Thousand Craft Immortal Pavilion," and the air smelled of medicinal herbs, not car exhaust.
Lost in observation, he was jolted by a soft "Oof!" as a small figure stumbled into his arm.
He instinctively steadied the person. It was a boy of about fifteen, clutching a grease-paper parcel that had burst open, scattering pastries across the ground. The boy, round-faced and big-eyed, glared up at him, his expression one of pure anguish for his fallen treats.
"Hey, watch where you're—" he began, then got a clear look at Lin Rui's face. His eyes went wider. "Huh? Lin Rui?!"
The boy scurried closer, forgetting his snacks. "It really is you! The Lin Rui from the Ancestral Hall… the one with the ancestral manifestation!"
Lin Rui raised an eyebrow. He searched his predecessor's memories but drew a blank. "You know me?"
"Of course!" The boy puffed out his chest. "I'm Lin Baobao, from a branch family! I saw you at the Ancestor Worship Ceremony last year. But you were… well, you don't remember me." He grinned, revealing two small canine teeth. "But what happened yesterday? The whole Lin family is talking about it! You're so awesome!"
Hearing the boy's instant familiarity, an idea sparked.
"The whole family knows?"
"You bet!" Lin Baobao's chin shot up. "Not just the family! All of Zhuyun Town is talking about you! From the tea shops on East Street to the Wang family's forge on West Street. Even those stuck-up Wang disciples are gossiping!"
A tall tree catches the wind, Lin Rui thought. But it also draws more eyes. Anyone lurking in the shadows will have to think twice. Not necessarily a bad thing.
This Lin Baobao, loud and seemingly guileless, could be a useful window into this world.
A faint smile touched his lips, his tone laced with a practiced weakness and a hint of confusion. "I'm ashamed to say, after my illness, many things are a blur. I was just heading to the market for some nourishing herbs to speed my recovery. And… to offer incense for my father."
"The market?" Baobao's eyes lit up. "I know Azure Creek Market like the back of my hand! What herbs do you need? I know which Hundred Herbs Hall is freshest! As for incense, the Fusheng Temple on East Street has the most worshippers!"
Lin Rui went along with it. "Then let's go to the Fusheng Temple first."
They navigated several bustling alleys until the weathered gates of the temple appeared. Unlike the imposing grandeur of the Lin clan, the Fusheng Temple felt more down-to-earth, its courtyard walls made of stacked bluestone. Two gnarled pine trees stood guard before the open doors, through which streams of people flowed, the air thick with incense.
Baobao stood on his tiptoes. "Whoa, it's so crowded! Must be a festival."
Inside, the main hall was even more clamorous. In the center stood a tall statue carved from a single piece of dark wood, its face conveying both compassion and authority. Before it, an altar was laden with offerings, the incense burner crowded with sticks of all sizes, their blue-green smoke curling upwards.
Baobao tugged on Lin Rui's sleeve and whispered, "See that? That's the founding ancestor of our town, Master Azurecreek! Legend says he was just a wandering cultivator, but he single-handedly carved out this town on the edge of the monster-infested Qingluo Mountains. Later, his merit was fulfilled, and he ascended to the heavens!"
He looked up at the statue, his eyes full of yearning, before his face fell. "Too bad that's all ancient history," he mumbled. "I heard that ever since the 'Great Cataclysm,' the Spirit Web has been unstable and the path to ascension was severed. For the last several hundred years, no one in the entire Tanxiao Realm has managed to ascend. Sigh."
So, ascension is a thing, Lin Rui noted, but the road is closed. This was a crucial piece of lore.
They each bought a bundle of incense. Lin Rui carefully watched Baobao's movements.
He saw the boy light the incense, then walk before the statue. Holding the incense with both hands, he formed a specific seal—middle finger and thumb touching, the other three fingers held straight—and bowed three times, muttering a quiet prayer.
Lin Rui copied him, mimicking the gesture as he bowed. He didn't ask for anything, just repeated a silent thought: Keep my conveniently inherited father safe, and help me find the bastard who killed the last owner of this body.
After offering the incense, Baobao pulled him toward a side hall. "They read fortunes over there and sell protective talismans! Wanna check it out?"
Just as Lin Rui was about to answer, Baobao stopped, craning his neck. In a corner, a slender young man in a black robe stood with his back to them, searching a row of scrolls on a bookshelf.
"Xu Yu!" Baobao called out.
The young man turned, revealing a handsome, scholarly face. "Baobao? What are you doing here?"
"Here with a friend to offer incense!" Baobao clapped him on the shoulder. "Scrounging for more secret manuals?"
Xu Yu pointed at the shelf. "I heard the temple acquired some ancient fragments on the 'Ancestral Soul Ritual.' Mostly just folk tales, nothing useful."
Baobao made the introductions. "Lin Rui, this is Xu Yu! My old classmate. A total brainiac, we call him the 'Know-It-All'!" Then to Xu Yu, "This is Lin Rui! You know, from the Ancestral Hall!"
Lin Rui cupped his hands. "Brother Xu, a pleasure."
Xu Yu's calm eyes lit up. He strode over and circled Lin Rui, his gaze filled with the pure curiosity one holds for an unknown phenomenon.
"Brother Lin. I've heard about the events. The Collection of Strange Tales says manifestations are drawn by blood ties or a great, unresolved grievance. The Miscellaneous Studies of Qingluo Prefecture also mentions ancient sages whose souls did not perish and would manifest to bless a sincere descendant. I wonder which phenomenon more closely fits your experience?"
His tone was even, but his eyes burned into Lin Rui as if searching for a runic mark on his face.
Lin Rui felt his skin crawl under the intense scrutiny.
This kid is harder to deal with than Baobao, Lin Rui thought, forcing an awkward smile. He comes at you with academic citations.
"Ahem, Brother Lin is blessed by fortune and protected by his ancestors. It's a good thing, a good thing."
Seeing Lin Rui's predicament, Baobao quickly jumped in, throwing an arm around Xu Yu's shoulder. "Hey, stop scaring him! He's just recovered from a long illness, and he can't remember a lot of things. Besides, how could we possibly understand an ancestral manifestation?"
Only then did Xu Yu realize his own lack of tact. A faint blush rose on his cheeks, and he stepped back, offering a cupped-fist bow. "Forgive my forwardness, Brother Lin. Such phenomena are rarely recorded, even in the classics. I got carried away."
Lin Rui waved it off, secretly relieved. "It's nothing. I'm impressed by your vast knowledge, Brother Xu."
"Where are you headed next?" Xu Yu asked.
Baobao immediately perked up. "To the Hundred Herbs Hall! To get Lin Rui some herbs. And hehe, they just got a new shipment of 'Dew-Congealing Fruits'!"
Xu Yu's interest was piqued. "Perfect. I was just studying the Commentary on the Hundred Herbs Classic and had a few questions for Shopkeeper Wang. May I accompany you?"
And so, the three of them arrived at the bustling Azure Creek Market.
Lin Baobao was a sparrow freed from its cage, flitting from a jade carving at one stall to a mechanical puppy at another. "Look, Lin Rui! The Drunken Immortal Tavern! Their Green Plum Wine is to die for! And crazy expensive!"
Xu Yu walked quietly beside them, occasionally adding a line from a classic text related to some oddity Baobao mentioned. Before long, a rich, medicinal aroma led them to a quiet corner and the Hundred Herbs Hall.
Inside, the kindly Shopkeeper Wang looked up from his abacus, his gaze sweeping over them before landing on Lin Rui with an inquisitive smile. "Baobao, Xu Yu. And a friend. What can I get for you?"
Baobao stepped forward. "Shopkeeper Wang, this is my friend, Lin Rui. He's just recovered and needs some herbs to nourish his body."
The shopkeeper gestured to his cabinets. "For nourishment, we have top-quality 'Yellow Essence Fungus' and 'Red Sun Ginseng.' The price, however, isn't cheap."
The glowing herbs had price tags that made Lin Rui's eyes twitch. His entire savings amounted to less than fifty low-grade spirit stones. He gave an embarrassed smile. "Shopkeeper, I'm a bit short on funds. Do you have any milder, more affordable mundane-grade herbs?"
The shopkeeper's knowing gaze lingered on Lin Rui's coarse clothes. He opened a lower drawer. "Of course. On the path of cultivation, one must act within one's means. This 'Green Coin Willow Leaf' clears the mind. This 'Poria Block' calms the spirit. Taken over time, they will nourish the body."
Lin Rui selected a few, the total wiping out most of his savings. As the shopkeeper wrapped them, he asked, "Young friend, have you registered with the Celestial Law Division?"
Lin Rui shook his head. "I have not. My cultivation is shallow." The original kid never even reached the first threshold, he thought.
The shopkeeper's eyes flickered, but his smile remained warm. "I see. Well, if you do embark on the path, you might consider it. An official status is convenient. And," he lowered his voice, "my shop often has commissions posted through the Division. A good way to earn spirit stones."
Baobao nudged him. "Yeah, register! We can team up for missions!"
He's right, Lin Rui mused. Taking jobs for cash is preferable to being suffocated by the Lin family.
While he was mulling this over, Xu Yu and the shopkeeper had launched into a fervent discussion about the Commentary on the Hundred Herbs Classic. Lin Rui listened quietly, managing to learn a great deal about the world's basic pharmacology.
After some time, they thanked the shopkeeper and left. The sky was growing dark, the crowds in the market thinning.
"What a day!" Baobao said, patting his round belly. "And those Dew-Congealing Fruits really live up to their name!"
"Shopkeeper Wang's understanding of pharmacology is truly profound," Xu Yu remarked with admiration.
At a fork in the road, Xu Yu stopped and bowed. "It is late. I will take my leave. We shall meet again."
After parting ways, Lin Rui and Baobao continued toward the Lin compound, the setting sun stretching their shadows long behind them.
Suddenly, Lin Rui stopped, his gaze snagged by a figure up ahead.
A young man in a moon-white robe. Ramrod straight posture, handsome face, and an air of refined nobility.
The name hit Lin Rui's mind like a physical blow. Wang Ruohan.
Instantly, the rainy Los Angeles night flooded his memory: the cold steel of a gun barrel, his partner's treacherous smile, and those final words. "Don't blame me, Rui. Blame yourself for knowing too much."
Son of a bitch, he cursed inwardly. What the hell is he doing here?
Then, a different set of memories—the original Lin Rui's—surfaced, sharp with humiliation. This was Wang Ruohan of the Zhuyun Town Wangs, his supposed childhood sweetheart, the one promised to him in marriage. The prodigy who had turned cold the moment Lin Rui was branded a failure. The engagement, the shared history—all of it vanished the instant his father disappeared.
A bitter sneer twisted Lin Rui's lips. So that's the common thread, he thought. One murders you for money, the other abandons you for power. Cut from the same damn cloth.