"Not a single useful thing in the whole house," Xuhen muttered, slumping down onto the creaky bed.
He had scoured every corner of the place—what little of it there was—hoping to find something containing Ether. But there was nothing. Just a few tarnished bronze coins and a dull silver one hidden under the bed. Local currency, probably.
"System," he said with a sigh, leaning back against the splintered wall. "Can you give me a clue?"
"Objects containing Ether can usually be found in nature," it replied in that same flat, emotionless tone.
Xuhen scowled. "What kind of clue is that?"
Of course it wouldn't give him more. This had to be some kind of test—either from the system itself or its mysterious creator. For what purpose, he couldn't guess. Maybe he was a chosen hero sent to stop a Demon King or save the world from destruction.
A bitter laugh escaped him. "Yeah, right."
He didn't look like a hero. He didn't feel like one. Just searching the house had left him drained.
He didn't even know what Ether was. Maybe it was like "mana" in fantasy novels—a kind of spiritual fuel for martial artists. But what did that mean for someone like him?
"Maybe herbs and stuff have it?" he muttered, rubbing his temples. It made sense. Herbs came from nature. Forests had herbs. The system had said "nature," after all.
His gaze drifted toward the backyard, or rather, the looming line of trees that marked the edge of the Qingling Forest. Tall, ancient trunks stretched beyond the weathered fence, their canopies like dark green clouds above.
"But what if there are beasts?" he thought, a knot of unease forming in his chest.
This was a cultivation world. Beasts here weren't just animals—they might have claws like swords and hide tougher than steel. Even martial artists avoided going too deep into Qingling Forest.
Still… the old Xuhen had wandered the outskirts before without much trouble. Maybe it wouldn't be too dangerous there. But that thought did little to calm him. He wasn't the old Xuhen. He hadn't experienced those memories firsthand—hadn't smelled the damp bark or felt the eerie stillness beneath the leaves.
Still, what choice did he have?
"If it's the only way to earn merit points, then I have to do it," he said quietly.
He looked down at the coins in his hand, then paused. A memory surfaced—faint but familiar.
The old Xuhen had been saving this money to buy a martial arts technique from an old man who ran a bookshop in Shifeng Village.
"Maybe I can buy some herbs instead of risking the forest," he thought, glancing out the window.
The sky had turned indigo, the last streaks of sunlight fading into gold. On the distant horizon, Shifeng Village stood like a sleeping beast.
"It's getting late. I'll go tomorrow."
With a weary groan, he stood up and headed into the narrow kitchen. A stone stove, empty cupboards, and one final handful of rice. The grains clinked softly into the pot. He lit the fire and waited, the faint scent of cooked rice slowly filling the air. It was oddly comforting—maybe a side effect of the old Xuhen's memories.
"I need to buy food too," he said, staring into the simmering pot.
The shadows stretched long as night crept in. This wasn't how he'd imagined starting a new life.
The next morning, Xuhen woke groggy and confused, blinking at the unfamiliar ceiling. But yesterday's memories rushed back quickly, anchoring him.
"I still can't believe this is real," he muttered.
He washed up using what little water remained in a clay pot. Nearly empty now.
"Add water to the list," he sighed.
The old Xuhen used to fetch it from a stream about half a kilometer into the forest. There was also the village well—farther, but safer.
The thought of hauling buckets through the forest made his arms ache just imagining it. He was still adjusting to this new body.
"I'm going to the village anyway. Might as well get the water there," he reasoned. "Let future Xuhen deal with the stream."
He got ready. That meant stuffing the coins into a pouch and putting on a worn pair of leather boots that looked ready to fall apart at any moment.
Another sigh. His stomach growled—he had nothing left to eat.
As he stepped out the door, he wondered again why the old Xuhen hadn't used the money to buy food. It didn't make sense. Maybe he hadn't had the chance… and by the time he did, Xuhen had taken over his body.
He shook the thought away and started walking toward the village, the dry morning wind tugging at his clothes.