strokinit Chapter 1 In this world, to survive, you have to fight for your life.
Chapter 1 In this world, to survive, you have to fight for your life.
Moonlight streamed through the leaky eaves.
A seven or eight-year-old child with a thin face, wearing a short linen shirt, squatted on the mottled stone steps.
His name is Zhang Yuan, and he is from Zhangjiazhuang Village, Fengming County, Luyang Prefecture.
Two weeks ago, a flood inundated Zhangjiazhuang, and hundreds of lives were lost.
Zhang Yuan survived by being placed in a large wooden barrel and drifting downstream.
He was pulled out by fishermen on the riverbank and sent to the Green Bamboo Gang, who made a living on the river.
The Green Bamboo Gang takes in orphans, who learn martial arts from a young age under the guidance of the gang's masters, and grow up to become key members of the gang.
The other children are already undergoing training, but Zhang Yuan, who was already thin, choked on water and caught a cold. For the past few days, he has been left in a dilapidated house, eating only two bowls of porridge a day, his life hanging in the balance.
Zhang Yuan was starving today. He left the dilapidated house and climbed the peach tree in the yard, hoping to pick two thumb-sized green peaches to fill his stomach. However, he was too weak to pick the peaches and fell down, immediately losing consciousness.
When he woke up and sat down by the stone steps, a memory image appeared in his mind.
Through.
A 9-to-9 office worker is transmigrated into the body of an eight-year-old child who is about to starve to death.
Do we need to verify our financial credentials to be reborn these days?
Treat people differently based on their status?
Zhang Yuan stuffed two sour peaches into his mouth and swallowed them with gritted teeth.
It tasted sour, hard, and bitter, and made me even hungrier.
"Zhang Yuan." A voice rang out from outside the courtyard gate, and a child dressed in a short-sleeved linen shirt walked in.
The child looked around, took out half a still-warm steamed bun from his pocket, and handed it to Zhang Yuan.
"Tomorrow, the Lonely Bamboo Hall will select people. Those who fail the test will be discarded by the Green Bamboo Gang."
"Master He, who teaches boxing, said that this year is different from previous years. Due to a major flood, the Green Bamboo Gang will not lack orphans."
Looking at Zhang Yuan's thin body, the child hesitated for a moment and then said nothing more.
In these difficult times, how can the orphaned children abandoned by the Green Bamboo Gang survive?
But with Zhang Yuan's frail appearance, how could he possibly pass the selection process of Guzhu Hall?
Zhang Yuan took the half-eaten steamed bun in his hand and swallowed hard.
The child in front of them was named Wang Ziteng, two years older than Zhang Yuan. He was an orphan who was pulled ashore by fishermen along with Zhang Yuan and sent to the Green Bamboo Gang.
The two had gone through thick and thin together.
These past few days, Zhang Yuan has been seriously ill, and Wang Ziteng has been saving his own food rations to leave just a bite for Zhang Yuan.
"Take this during tomorrow's trial." Wang Ziteng, who was taller and stronger than Zhang Yuan, drew a rusty broken sword, more than a foot long, from his waist and stuffed it into Zhang Yuan's hand.
"If anyone dares to touch you, you'll be dealt with severely, do you hear me?"
Patting Zhang Yuan on the shoulder, Wang Ziteng's eyes flashed with a suppressed glint: "In this world, if you want to survive, you have to fight for your life."
He was only ten years old, but a sudden flood forced him to grow up.
Standing up, Wang Ziteng rolled up his sleeves, tightened his belt, and walked to the middle of the courtyard. "I'll practice the boxing techniques that Master He taught me again."
"Zhang Yuan, eat your steamed bun, take a break, and then try your hand. This is the Green Bamboo Gang; we don't tolerate idlers here."
……
Zhang Yuan stuffed the steamed bun into his mouth, and the rough taste of the wheat flour seemed to make all the aches and pains in his body disappear.
Only the orphaned children who practiced martial arts during the day got to eat steamed buns, while Zhang Yuan could only drink two bowls of thin porridge a day.
After stuffing the steamed bun in two bites, a feeling of fullness spread from the inside out.
Zhang Yuan looked down at the foot-long broken sword in his hand. A warm sensation flowed from his body along his arm into the broken sword.
The Qingfeng Steel Sword weighs three and a half pounds, is three feet and one inch long, and has a spine that is seven fen thick.
The sword broke off at a point one foot and two inches long, caused by a blunt, heavy blow.
The broken sword has three slash marks on its edge, each one left by a strike or impact with a force of over 300 jin.
The slash mark is slightly to the left, with a false front and a solid back, indicating that the swordsman's technique is light and agile.
These messages suddenly appeared in his mind, causing Zhang Yuan to tremble and loosen his grip on the rusty broken sword.
"Clang—"
The broken sword fell onto the stone steps, and all the information about swords in my mind was interrupted.
It's not a hallucination.
The information about those swords was crystal clear, as if it were engraved in my mind.
Could this be the cheat code I brought with me when I transmigrated?
At the same time, a semi-transparent panel appeared in my mind:
Name: Zhang Yuan
Age: 8 years old
Condition: Weak, lingering cold, deficiency of qi and blood.
Remaining life span: 300 days
Note: The simulation function is activated. Each simulation consumes lifespan.
The content on the panel flashed by, but it was etched deep into my memory.
The feeling of fullness from half a steamed bun had mostly dissipated, and the sensation of warmth being drawn from his body made Zhang Yuan's limbs feel weak.
Does this cheat system require consuming one's lifespan?
My lifespan is reduced to only 300 days?
Looking at the broken sword on the stone steps, Zhang Yuan slowly reached out and gripped the hilt.
At that very moment, the panel in my mind lit up again, and a line of cold text appeared.
[A sword technique deduction request has been detected. Deduction consumes 30 days of lifespan. Remaining lifespan: 300 days. Confirm?]
Zhang Yuan's heart tightened.
30 days longevity?
This means that his already short lifespan will be further shortened.
But thinking about the selection process at Guzhu Hall tomorrow, if I can't pass the test, I'm afraid I won't live more than a few days.
Hunger and the threat of death overwhelmed everything. "Confirmed!"
He gritted his teeth and responded silently in his heart.
"boom--"
This time, an image of a swordsman in the martial arts world appeared in his mind: a swordsman wielding a long sword, with agile movements, light footsteps, and a figure that moved with the sword.
pick.
prick.
point.
drag.
bring.
Each move flows back and forth, seemingly without end.
This scene feels like ten years, yet also like a fleeting moment.
When the image in his mind disappeared, the blankness in Zhang Yuan's eyes vanished, replaced by a sharp, piercing light.
"His thrusts are weak, his steps falter, and he cannot unleash the agility of his swordsmanship. Ten years of effort have yielded nothing."
Zhang Yuan himself didn't know why he could understand swordsmanship and make such a nonchalant comment.
He even felt that if that swordsman were standing in front of him, he could easily break his swordsmanship.
The sword seemed to be something ingrained in his very bones.
He already knew the swordsman's swordsmanship inside and out.
The simulation ended, and the panel quietly updated.
[Life consumption: 30 days. Remaining life span: 270 days. 】
A deeper sense of weakness washed over me, as if a piece of my life had been taken away.
"Gurgle..."
His limbs felt weak, his stomach felt empty, and all the strength he had gained from eating half a steamed bun had dissipated, leaving Zhang Yuan's vision blurry.
It seems that this golden finger really does require consuming one's vital energy, or more precisely, one's lifespan—an enlightenment gained at the cost of one's life.
Looking back at Zhang Yuan's weak appearance, Wang Ziteng stopped his boxing stance, waved his hand, and said, "Never mind, Zhang Yuan, you're still recovering from your cold. You'll follow me around tomorrow."
"I know all the guys the Green Bamboo Gang has taken in recently; not many of them are any good fighters."
Zhang Yuan nodded; he was indeed feeling completely weak.
Wang Ziteng saw that it was getting late and left the dilapidated courtyard.
The children who practice martial arts during the day live in a better place than this small courtyard; at least it's sheltered from the wind and rain. Zhang Yuan doesn't have that kind of treatment.
Lying down on the broken wooden bed, the light leaking through the roof made Zhang Yuan feel somewhat dazed for a moment.
In the memory of an eight-year-old child, this world has martial arts masters who can leap across rooftops and walls, soldiers wearing armor, Luyang Prefecture, Fengming County, Zhangjiazhuang, and the Green Bamboo Gang.
His empty stomach reminded him that this was a world where he could starve to death at any moment.
Even the strongest cheat code can't put food on the table.
In the past, the people of Zhangjiazhuang said that the Green Bamboo Gang were bad people, bandits on the river who would eventually be wiped out by the government.
"I don't want to be a bad person either, but is it a choice I can make?"
If he isn't chosen by the Guzhu Hall tomorrow, he'll probably starve to death before the government wipes him out.
Slightly curling up and gripping the hilt of the broken sword at his waist, Zhang Yuan finally felt a sense of security and slowly closed his eyes.
Fifteen minutes later, Zhang Yuan rolled over and got out of bed.
"No, if we don't get something to eat, I definitely won't have the energy to get out of bed tomorrow morning."
Holding the broken sword, Zhang Yuan quietly walked out of the courtyard.
He was going to sneak some food from the cafeteria.
Zhang Yuan gripped the cold, broken hilt of his sword and slipped quietly out of the dilapidated courtyard under the moonlight.
This was the first time he had taken the initiative to explore the inner workings of the Green Bamboo Gang.
When he was brought here last time, he was in a daze and only remembered being led through a dock area full of goods and drinking a bowl of porridge in a canteen filled with the smell of food.
At this moment, he carefully followed the direction he remembered.
The night wind carried the fishy, damp smell of the river, and I could hear the rushing water and the sound of waves crashing against the riverbank.
The closer you get to the canteen, the clearer the view of the river becomes.
He walked past several rows of low shacks, and suddenly the view opened up before him.
A wide, turbid river, its surface shimmering with a dark light under the moonlight, stretched across the edge of the gang's territory.
Near the shore, boats of all sizes were moored in dense clusters.
Some were bulky cargo ships with a deep draft, their decks piled high with bulging sacks or tightly bound goods, clearly engaged in legitimate business.
But most of them were fast boats, with long, narrow hulls, bows covered in iron or animal hides, and grappling hooks and ropes hanging on the sides, exuding a menacing aura in the darkness.
These were clearly tools for making "business without capital" and plundering merchants and travelers on the river.
Along the shore and beside the dock, there were some boxes, fabrics, and even a few pieces of furniture damaged by water, scattered haphazardly, as if they had just been "unloaded" and were left unattended, exuding a sense of chaos and casualness.
Several gang members on night watch, wrapped in tattered coats, dozed off against the mast, the short knives at their waists occasionally flashing coldly in the moonlight.
Everything along this river silently tells the story of the foundation upon which the Green Bamboo Gang depends for its survival: this great river, and the overt and covert dealings that take place on it.
Zhang Yuan held his breath, dodged the dozing guards, and slipped into the canteen, which smelled of food scraps, like a nimble cat.
The canteen was pitch black, with only the faint red glow of the unburnt firewood in the stove.
He used his memory and sense of smell to find his way to the steamer and found several cold, hard leftover steamed buns.
Hunger instantly overwhelmed him, and without thinking, he grabbed two pieces and stuffed them into his mouth. The rough, cold pieces of steamed bun made him choke and stretch his neck.
Just as he was wolfing down his food, clear footsteps and hushed voices suddenly came from outside the dining hall!
Zhang Yuan's heart tightened. In his panic, he caught sight of the huge stove next to him and quickly shrank under it, pressing himself tightly against the cold stove wall, not daring to breathe.
Two figures walked in and stopped not far from the stove.
A younger-sounding voice, tinged with anxiety, said, "Master, we really shouldn't have intercepted Captain Zhang Zhenshan's official ship!"
"That was a Colonel of the Vanquishing Army, appointed by the imperial court. His entire family was loyal and valiant; all three—father and sons—died on the frontier, their bodies barely cold! We've abducted their only son, the one they were escorting home with his coffin. Aren't we utterly outrageous?"
Another voice, old and hoarse, laced with ruthlessness and calculation: "Hmph, now you know fear? Too late!"
"The county magistrate's order and message have arrived. The counselor personally conveyed the message, telling me to 'handle it myself,' saying, 'The county magistrate needs a satisfactory explanation, otherwise, the Green Bamboo Gang has no reason to exist!' Every word was like a knife..."
The younger voice sounded even more fearful: "Master, then, then, Consul..."
Xu Changhe interrupted him, his tone grim: "What else can we do? The counselor has given his orders and left in a huff; this is the final ultimatum! It's too late for regrets now; the only thing we can do is atone for our mistakes with good deeds!"
He paused, lowering his voice even further, with a resolute tone: "I have followed orders from above. Tomorrow, I will put 'muscle-weakening powder' in all the food. Once the drug takes effect, most of the gang members will be unable to move. When the main force arrives, we can wipe them all out and completely eradicate the Green Bamboo Gang!"
"Let's give the county magistrate an 'explanation' by completely destroying the Green Bamboo Gang!"
"However," Xu Changhe's tone turned thorny, "the biggest problem now is that Captain Zhang's only son is mixed in with these newly taken-in orphans. Tomorrow, in the chaos of war, swords and spears have no eyes..."
A young voice said urgently, "Yes, Master! The gang has taken in at least dozens of orphans these past few days. If we take action tomorrow, how can we ensure the child's safety in such a rush? What if something goes wrong...?"
Xu Changhe interrupted him, with a hint of confidence: "It's alright. I have definite information that Captain Zhang left his only son an ancestral black iron plaque, instructing him to wear it close to his body and never let it out of his sight! It is the proof of their Zhang family bloodline!"
"That plaque is made of a special material, dark and heavy, with a ferocious tiger's head engraved on the front and the ancient seal character 'Zhang' on the back! After we take action tomorrow, you take a few of your most trusted men and immediately search the necks and undergarments of all the children! Find the one wearing the dark iron plaque; that's Captain Zhang's son! Bring him out of there unharmed!"
"Remember!" Xu Changhe's voice carried a final warning, "Find him, protect him! This is our only way to survive! Our only chance of success! Otherwise... we'll both die a horrible death!"
The two whispered a few more words about the details of their operation before their footsteps gradually faded into the distance.
Zhang Yuan, sitting under the stove, felt his heart pounding wildly, almost leaping out of his throat!
U-Iron Plate?
Carved with a tiger's head and the ancient seal script character "Zhang"? He'd seen it before!