[Simulation Terminated – Five-Year Timeline Expired]
[Despite great struggle, you rose from a powerless commoner to a Third Grade Martial Artist—an achievement considered elite by most standards.]
[You earned wealth, witnessed calamity, looted knowledge, and began stepping into the world of true power.]
[But the door to greater realms—inner breathing methods—remained sealed.]
[You now face a choice.]
[Select One Principal Reward:]
▢ [Body and Cultivation at Age 21]— Physical conditioning of a 3rd Grade Martial Artist— Muscle density, sharpened reflexes, and high combat readiness— Stamina, pain resistance, and a hardened skeletal frame— Martial experience from dozens of near-death encounters
▢ [Knowledge: Alchemical Study + Eagle Claw Mastery + Battlefield Tactics]— In-depth understanding of herbology, poison refinement, and cultivation support formulas— Complete mastery of the Eagle Claw Style (Low-Grade Martial Art)— Tactical acumen for looting, evasion, and scavenger operations post-battle— County-level awareness of martial family power structure and their weaknesses
[Giant's Broken Shield]The iron shield of Hou Qi, bearing scorch and palm marks from a First Grade Martial ArtistSymbol of awe and a potential bargaining chip with inner sects
Shen Li sighed, eyes dim with resignation.
"Sigh… for now, cultivation is out of the question," he muttered. "If I pick a low-grade martial art again, I might as well be the disgrace of all transmigrators."
He brought up the reward screen with a weary tap and selected:
[Knowledge: Alchemical Study + Eagle Claw Mastery + Battlefield Tactics]
A surge of information flooded his mind like a wave crashing into stone. His fingers trembled. Images, formulas, battle formations, and reflexive movements danced behind his eyes.
When it passed, he opened them slowly—sharper now. Focused.
"…So that's how it is," he whispered.
"In this county, the only known inner breathing method belongs to the Song family…"
He paused, mind racing. "If there's ever going to be a chance to snatch it, it'll be during the clash with Hou Qi. When their Grade-1 martial artist falls… everything changes."
He remembered it clearly from the simulations:After the death of the Song patriarch, their core bloodline splintered and vanished. Some fled. Some were hunted. Some were found as corpses in wells and fields. And some—disappeared beneath the silence of a patrol's boot.
"…I'm not the only one watching," Shen Li muttered, narrowing his gaze. "Others want that breathing method, too."
His thoughts were broken by the soft flap of wings.
Overhead, a dark bird circled—the first scavenger drawn by the donkey meat laid out in the yard. A carnivorous hunter, sensing its moment.
Shen Li didn't move.
He watched in silence, the same way predators do when studying prey.
Because he, too, was hunting something.
And his next move had to be perfect.
After circling for hours, the bird finally made its decision.
Wings pulled tight, it dropped from the sky and landed beside the rotting bait—its talons scraping the dried blood. With cautious steps, it pecked at the meat of the sick donkey. Then, emboldened by hunger, it began to feast.
Shen Li remained motionless.
He waited, breath low, until the bird lowered its head—fully distracted, fully vulnerable.
Thwip—The bowstring snapped.
The arrow flew straight and silent—burying itself into the side of the bird's skull.
[+5 lifespan]
Shen Li exhaled calmly.A small smile tugged at his lips.
"Like I said… I know how to hunt."
It was, technically, the first time he'd ever held a bow in this life.But his hands moved with the confidence of a seasoned predator.
Ten years of simulated experience had burned the craft into his bones—tracking, wind judgment, draw strength, shot rhythm. Hundreds of hunts, layered like steps on a staircase. One year here, two months there… but always consistent. Always accumulating.
The result?
Even a beginner now shot like a veteran.
Shen Li retrieved the bird's body and returned home.
But his joy faded quickly—eclipsed by a more pressing thought:
"I need money."
There weren't many options for someone without power or backing. He didn't have a martial family. He didn't have a sect. What little silver he had would vanish eventually.
Still…
A thought sparked.
"Merchandising, maybe?" he muttered.
He paced, thinking aloud.
"I know exactly which caravans will be hit… which regions will face shortages…"
"If I buy early, stock up before a raid, and sell after the attack… I can flip goods for ten, even twenty times the price."
His eyes narrowed, calculating.
"No one else knows what I know."
Not yet.
Pian Kobek—a mild-tempered man with a steady gait and honest eyes. Last time, he had even offered Shen Li a discounted rate for future jobs.
"Mr. Kobek," Shen Li said, "how long do you think it'll take to get these to the inner city?"
Pian Kobek wiped the sweat from his brow, glancing at the heavy loads.
"Should be done by noon, Mr. Shen. It's a lot, but my men are fast."
He looked at the barrels with thinly veiled admiration.
"I have to say, sir… your foresight was incredible. Who would've guessed we'd hit a crisis like this?"
Shen Li's expression remained unreadable. Calm. Controlled.
"It wasn't a guess," he replied. "With the number of bandits swarming this county, every caravan carrying high-value cargo has at least a thirty percent chance of being looted."
He paused.
"Even if you bought from every large shipment, you'd still turn a profit over time."
Pian Kobek nodded thoughtfully. "So when do you think the government will step in? Clean things up?"
Shen Li's eyes darkened slightly.
"They're trying," he said. "But it won't work. Not in this place."
"This county's too far from the central provinces. Too corrupt. Too fragmented."
"Even the Song family—the strongest power here—has secret dealings with the bandits. They all think they're feeding rats to do their bidding."
He looked out the window.
"But what they don't realize is… that rat is already a lion."
Shen Li's voice dropped into a whisper.
"And by year three, that lion will break the ceiling"
Pian Kobek gave Shen Li a puzzled look.
"Third year?" he asked, brows furrowing.
Shen Li smiled faintly.
"Don't worry about it," he said. "For now, just focus on moving the goods. I'm planning to make a killing with this oil, haha."
With that, their conversation ended, and Shen Li made his way into the city center.
Thanks to the chaos gripping the county, selling the oil was far easier than he'd anticipated. He didn't need to wander from street to street or negotiate with a dozen vendors. The moment he arrived, one trading hall offered to buy everything on the spot.
Under normal circumstances, he would've spread the goods across multiple shops for a higher return.
But today?
Every inn, every merchant stall, every craftsman was desperate for oil.
By sunset, the transaction was complete.
Shen Li walked away with 724 silver in his pouch.
He knew he could've made far more—but without a stall or any presence inside the inner city's trade zone, this was the best he could manage.
"There will be thirty-six major caravan raids this year," he muttered as he walked the crowded streets, weaving past beggars, hawkers, and sweating guards. "Only seven of them will be as profitable as today's… but if I had a foothold here, I could easily make five times what I just earned."
He looked around—the tall gates, polished signs, the towering buildings of the trade quarter.
That was his next goal.
To secure a place inside the trade district—a location where true wealth flowed like rivers.
Houses outside the city sold for 1 to 4 gold coins. Rent usually started at 20 silver a day—already too high for most.
But the trade zone?
That was another world entirely.
Just a starting property could cost 30 to 40 gold—if you were lucky enough to find one for sale. Most were snatched up instantly by merchant families or bought in advance by officials and their allies.
Rent was the only real option.
And even that was absurdly high—300 silver per month, sometimes more.
But that price brought opportunity.
.....
Back in his dimly lit courtyard, Shen Li leaned against the wooden post, wiping blood off his blade. The stench of old donkey still clung faintly to the air.
He exhaled once, and with a quiet breath, whispered:
"Open panel."
A golden shimmer flickered to life in front of him—cold, structured, unwavering.
[Simulation Interface]Name: Shen Li
Race: Human
Age: 16
Lifespan: 20 / 112
He studied the panel in silence.
A good month.
His fingers traced the edge of the interface, thoughtful.
The past month, he had shifted his diet entirely to meat—no more bland porridge, no more half-rotted vegetables. He hunted when he could, and when livestock was cheap—especially sick or aging—he bid without hesitation.
Old donkeys. Lame sheep. Chickens with broken legs.
He stared at the panel again.
112 years.The average man would kill for that.But Shen Li knew—true power didn't come from long life.
Shen Li closed the panel slowly, his breath steady—but his heart wasn't.
No matter how many silver coins he earned…No matter how many years of life he clawed back…He felt it—like a thorn lodged deep in his chest.
Urgency.
It gnawed at him day and night.
He could already see the ceiling above him.Wealth could only do so much.Connections came with strings.But raw, unstoppable power… that came only from oneself.
If he had power now—true martial strength—he wouldn't have to sneak, wouldn't have to scheme.He would dominate.He could take a trade post, buy a manor in the inner city, suppress bandits, force officials to kneel.
His eyes narrowed.
"What I need… is a way forward."
He turned toward the quiet courtyard, moonlight slicing through the rafters.
Then said aloud:
"Simulate. Five years."
[Lifespan Sacrificed – 5 Years][Remaining Lifespan: 107]
[You sold your stockpile slowly, wisely. Your 600 silver investment turned into over 1,500 silver. You chose not to exchange for gold]
[Later, you foresaw the corrupt officials would sell the government's hidden stockpile. You took a gamble—made contact, bribed, moved fast.]
[Your plan worked. You obtained massive reserves of food at a fraction of the value.]
[But you underestimated one thing—greed.]
[The corrupt officials turned on you. They accused you of theft, claimed you broke into storage. You tried to explain. No one listened.]
[You were thrown into a dungeon.]
[There, a guard crushed your neck beneath his boot.]
[You died, not with regret—but fury. You had been outplayed.]
[Death Event: Soul Detached]
[Cause of Death: Strangulation by corrupt jailer under false charges]
[Because your body died in a dungeon steeped in Yin, deprived of sunlight and filled with despair, your soul did not disperse.]
[Year 1 – Wandering]You drifted through the halls—no thoughts, no form. A husk of smoke and sorrow. Sunlight burned you. You avoided it without understanding why.
[Year 2 – Sensory Awareness]You began to notice sounds. Shapes. Walls. You had no mind, but the world around you started to make sense—like an infant gazing into a world it could not name.
[Year 3 – Hunger of the Dead]You felt it.Your soul was fading.The Yin wasn't enough. You tried—blindly—to absorb more. But your spirit was weak. Lacking clarity, lacking will, you failed to store it. You remained an echo, not a ghost.
[That same year, you saw a man dragged into the dungeon—an old scholar with fire in his eyes.]But you didn't care. Your instincts were too dull. Your purpose lost.
[Year 4 – Cracks of Awareness]Your mind flickered. Words began to return. You remembered barley. Oil. Silver.But your soul was fraying—unstable, like frost on glass.Still, you couldn't absorb Yin properly. You could not feed.
[Year 5 – The End]Your time ran out.You felt it as your essence began to dissolve, grain by grain. Your instincts cried out in fear.But your body was long gone.Your soul—unanchored, unfed—vanished in the depths of the dungeon.
[Simulation Terminated – True Death Achieved][No body. No soul. No rebirth.]
[Select ONE Principal Reward:]
[Age 17 Body – Physically healthy, high endurance from warehouse work and supply logistics, steady hands, merchant discipline, moderate combat readiness]
[Merchant Schemes – Crisis forecasting, price gouging, barter leverage, black market logistics, corrupt official mapping]
[Official-Ledger Scroll – A falsified but sealed government trade ledger marked with a deputy's seal. Grants temporary trade legitimacy in outer counties if used carefully. Highly dangerous if exposed.]Obtained during your rise. Never used. Carries the symbol of the very man who betrayed you.
[Strengthened Yin Soul – After five years of ghost existence, your soul has absorbed thick Yin energy. Gains: Denser cohesion, early-stage spiritual perception, resistance to minor soul erosion.]