510: Chapter 510 is under revision.

Qin Wangchuan thought the System would forcibly stuff him into a body, much like a Possession.

But it didn't.

He found himself floating in mid-air like a weightless wisp of smoke; looking down, he could see his own hands.

They were translucent, with light and shadow passing through the gaps between his fingers; he couldn't grasp a thing.

A Divine Soul body.

He floated in the air, and beneath his feet was a brick-and-tile house.

In front was a small courtyard where a jujube tree grew, its branches hung with several tart, green fruits.

Five or six people were gathered outside a room, waiting anxiously.

Some paced back and forth, some pressed their palms together and muttered prayers, while others pressed against the door crack to peer inside.

Suppressed cries from a woman came from inside, each one more urgent than the last.

The door curtain was lifted, and a midwife poked her head out, her face full of joy: "He's born! He's born! It's a boy!"

The outside immediately erupted into a commotion.

"Let me see! Let me see!"

"Don't push, don't push, you move aside first—"

The midwife brought out the swaddled infant and smiled as she weighed him in her hands:

"Oh, he's quite big. Come, onto the scale—"

"Six catties and eight taels, sturdy!"

The infant was still crying—waah, waah—a wrinkled little ball held in the midwife's hands like a freshly skinned rabbit.

His limbs kicked wildly, his face still stained with blood, looking incredibly ugly.

He felt nothing.

This was merely observing.

Separated by life and death, separated by two worlds, it was like watching someone else's play.

A man took the infant from the midwife's hands, his own hands trembling.

He looked down at the wrinkled little thing in his arms, his eyes reddening and his voice choking up:

"Qin Chuan, my child, Qin Chuan!"

Qin Wangchuan was slightly startled.

Qin Chuan.

He didn't know if it was a coincidence or if the System had done it on purpose.

Only one character was different.

As for the man.

His name was Qin Rang, a Martial Apprentice at the town's martial arts hall.

He was also his father in this life.

Behind Qin Rang stood a burly middle-aged man dressed in short-style martial attire, sleeves rolled to the elbows, revealing sturdy forearms.

Beside him stood several other men in similar attire.

Each was broad-shouldered and thick-waisted, clearly practitioners of martial arts.

"Big Brother, look!" Qin Rang handed the infant over. "Look at this boy!"

The middle-aged man took him, examined him for a moment, and nodded: "His features look like yours."

He paused, then added, "Just don't let him be as reckless as you were when you were young."

The crowd burst into laughter.

Qin Rang laughed along, wiping the corner of his eye, his voice still trembling:

"Don't worry, Big Brother, this boy will definitely be stronger than me in the future."

Qin Wangchuan floated in the air.

He watched as these rough men gathered around, all talking at once about the infant's looks, weight, and how tall he might grow.

They had calluses on their hands and scars on their faces.

When they spoke, their voices were as loud as if they were arguing, yet every time one of them took the swaddled baby, their touch was gentle.

The day of birth passed just like that.

Time flowed past Qin Wangchuan like running water.

He floated in the air.

Watching that brick house, watching the jujube tree in the courtyard, watching the infant in the swaddle grow day by day.

It came to the day of the one-month celebration.

A table was set in the middle of the courtyard with a few dishes of peanuts, some plates of cooked meat, and several jars of aged wine.

There were no extravagant banquets like those in the Immortal Court, nor were there seats filled with distinguished guests.

Only a few rough men sat together, drinking from large bowls and eating big mouthfuls of meat.

Yet the atmosphere was not lacking at all; it was even more heroic.

Qin Rang stood up and raised his wine cup high: "This first cup, I toast to Big Brother!"

"I, Qin Rang, was muddled for the first half of my life. If Big Brother hadn't taken me as a disciple and let me join the martial arts hall, I would never be who I am today."

"Big Brother, cheers!"

Sitting opposite him was that burly middle-aged man—Jiang Zhuo.

He picked up his wine cup, saying "It was all your own hard work," and raised it in return.

After draining it in one go, he set down the bowl, wiped his mouth, and looked at Qin Rang.

"Don't get careless."

"Being a Martial Apprentice is only the first step. Although you've practiced before, your age is a factor, and you only have five years."

"If you can't become a Martial Artist within five years, you'll have to pack your bags and go home."

"When that time comes, even I won't be able to help you."

Qin Rang set down his cup and sat up straight.

"To be honest, Big Brother, I don't have much confidence either, but..."

He turned to look toward the inner room, where his wife's silhouette could be faintly seen projected on the window paper, "For Chuan'er's sake, I will work hard."

"Otherwise, he might end up like his old man, with no help from home, only able to live a muddled life."

Hearing this, the group burst into laughter.

"Who isn't like that!"

"Among us, who didn't crawl out of the mud?"

"Come, come, come, drink, drink!"

Qin Wangchuan watched silently, feeling somewhat touched.

It was written clearly on the System panel.

This man talking loudly about the future actually had no future at all.

Thinking of this, he let out a soft sigh.

Back then, he should have added a few more points to familial affection.

Time continued to flow.

Qin Wangchuan also gradually figured out the power structure of this world.

Ordinary people could enter reputable martial arts halls through training to become a Martial Apprentice.

A Martial Apprentice could learn some Cultivation Technique Secret Manuals; this part tested one's Comprehension Ability.

If one achieved success in their studies within five years, they could pass various assessments to be promoted to a Martial Artist.

Stronger Martial Artists possessed the ability to face ten men alone; they were considered notable figures in local areas and were respected.

The government recognized their status, and martial arts halls would assign them tasks with decent pay.

Further up, there were Cultivators.

Cultivators absorbed Heaven and Earth Spiritual Qi to strengthen themselves.

Rumor had it they could perform various strange immortal arts and defeat ten Martial Artists with a single hand.

"Just starting out as an immortal Cultivator."

Qin Wangchuan nodded.

Adding the previous clues, he was almost certain that this was not a virtual world, but a real one.

The previous point allocation hadn't randomly generated a world.

Instead, the System had found a world that matched.

And this world was very likely outside the Three Thousand Continents—in the Outer Realm.

Time accelerated before Qin Wangchuan's eyes.

He saw the infant learn to roll over, learn to sit, and learn to crawl.

He saw Qin Rang carry him on his shoulders, walking around the courtyard while humming a tune out of key.

He saw his mother sitting on the doorstep embroidering flowers.

From time to time, she would look up at the father and son, smiling gently.

At a year and a half old, 'he' awakened self-awareness.

Opening his eyes one time, Qin Wangchuan found he was no longer in mid-air.

He was lying on that wooden bed, with a yellowed canopy above and birds chirping outside the window.

He moved his fingers—these hands were small and chubby, five fingers like five short lotus roots.

From observing, it had changed to first-person.

But time still spun rapidly.

In his third year, Qin Rang officially became a Martial Artist.

With more abundant funds, he didn't just repair and expand the house.

He also added another courtyard behind the house, making it much more spacious.

That same year, his mother passed away from illness.

This was the script Qin Wangchuan knew, but not everyone knew it.

Many people came to offer comfort, but none could help Qin Rang move on.

His hometown was in the far north; he had come to this small town alone and finally managed to have a home.

Now that the home was broken, he couldn't accept it.

He could only keep taking dangerous missions, using the life of a sellsword to numb himself.

Most of the time, Qin Wangchuan was home alone.

However, it wasn't that no one looked after him.

A teacher from the school had once had his life saved by Qin Rang, so they agreed that he would come every day to take Qin Wangchuan to school.

The teacher's surname was Chen; he was a thin middle-aged man who wore round-rimmed glasses and spoke in a slow, deliberate manner.

He appeared at the door on time every morning.

Holding Qin Wangchuan's hand, they walked along that bluestone road, crossed the small bridge in the town center, and went to the school at the east end of town.

The days passed one by one.

Under the System's accelerated time, although Qin Wangchuan was in this body, he could not make any choices.

For example, avoiding the time of Qin Rang's death.

As if fated, he was bound to die at the hands of mountain bandits.

Day after day, time flew by.

Eating, sleeping, learning characters, reciting poetry.

Except for that face.

His skin was as white as a peeled egg.

His features were also delicately formed, making him stand out remarkably among a group of dusty-faced children.

The town's children had no concept of good or evil; they just felt he was different from everyone else and loved to provoke him.

Other than that, everything was plain and simple, like a bowl of plain water.

Until one person appeared.

That girl from the neighboring courtyard.

It wasn't because the girl was particularly beautiful.

Although she was indeed pretty, with curved eyes that looked like crescents when she smiled.

It was because that face was far too familiar.

"Eighth Sister?

(Something came up today so there's only half, but tomorrow will make up for it to four thousand words)