Violence 3: Chapter 3: The Hundred Schools of…
Violence Naturally, people in this world weren’t going to instantly bow down in reverence just because Xue Mu talked a big game.
The beautiful woman merely offered a placid, dismissive smile.
“There is no need to trouble yourself with our sect’s expansion.
However, you do seem quite suited to be a bookkeeper.
Chan’er, arrange a carriage for the gentleman, and give him some medicine for his injuries.” Xue Mu was left somewhat speechless.
So, nobody had actually bothered to treat his wounds earlier; no wonder his entire body was still screaming in pain.
Come to think of it, the only reason he had been allowed to lie in her luxurious carriage was so she could interrogate him the exact moment he woke up.
If he hadn’t managed to say anything useful, she probably would have executed him on the spot.
Why waste energy healing a corpse?
Still, at least they were willing to patch him up now and give him a place to stay.
Whether they wanted to exploit him as a glorified accountant or something else, he had finally secured a temporary foothold.
Transferred to a much more ordinary horse carriage, Xue Mu leaned heavily against the wooden wall and let out a long, exhausted sigh.
The psychological pressure of facing that woman—who could literally inflict internal bleeding with a single glance—was simply too immense.
In contrast, the flat-chested thirteen-year-old girl sitting across from him was a much more relaxing presence.
Chan’er grinned and tossed two vials into his lap.
“The white one is for your injuries.
Just take one pill, get some sleep, and you’ll be fine.
The red one is to temporarily suppress your toxins so they don’t leak out.
We’d rather not be forced to constantly circulate our energy to seal our pores just to stand near you.
One pill lasts for twelve hours, so remember to take one every day.” “Thanks.” Without a shred of hesitation, Xue Mu popped both vials open and swallowed a pill from each.
At this point, killing him would be effortless for them, so there was no reason for them to play dirty with the medicine.
The two pills dissolved instantly on his tongue.
Within seconds, a refreshing, cool sensation rushed through his limbs and bones, and the agonizing pain wracking his body vanished by at least seventy to eighty percent.
Xue Mu stared at the small bottles in astonishment, once again realizing how bizarre this world truly was.
What kind of medical science allows a trauma injury to heal this fast?
It’s completely unscientific.
Well…
I’ve already transmigrated, so holding onto modern science is just my own brain failing to adapt.
Xue Mu flashed the young girl what he considered to be a highly suave, charming smile.
“I must still offer my proper gratitude to you and your esteemed master for saving my life.
My name is Xue Mu.
Might I ask how I should address you, young lady?” The girl smiled back, her eyes crinkling into crescent shapes.
“That self-satisfied grin of yours is actually pretty obnoxious.
Oh, by the way, I was completely planning on gouging your eyes out earlier.
I wonder, can a blind man still work as a bookkeeper?” Xue Mu’s suave smile instantly turned sour.
“…Obviously not.” Resting her chin on her dainty palms, the girl leaned forward, scanning Xue Mu’s face up and down as if inspecting some sort of miracle.
“You’ve got serious balls.
Not only did you look at me naked, but you even saw my Master…
It’s honestly a miracle you’re still breathing and jumping around.” Xue Mu finally understood her obsession with eye-gouging.
He said helplessly, “I genuinely didn’t see anything.
It was pitch black, I was falling at terminal velocity, and I’m no immortal.
How could I have possibly peeked at anything scandalous?” “You saw a flash of white skin, didn’t you?
To me, that counts as being seen.” “Can we please use a bit of logic here?” “No.” The girl gave him a sweet, crinkling smile.
“But if you tell me your story, I might just let you off the hook.” Seeing her charming, lively, and thoroughly adorable demeanor, Xue Mu figured that despite her brutal threats, she didn’t actually harbor any immediate malice.
He smiled back.
“I was raised soaking in poison vats since I was a child.
As for why I’m not dead, I have no idea either.” “There are thousands of sects and schools of cultivation in this world; it truly is beyond my limited knowledge.” The girl sighed with an affectation of maturity.
Then, she pointed at Xue Mu’s short hair, and then at his clothes.
“Still, it’s hard to associate a monk with poison.
What kind of bizarre sect does this robe of yours represent?” Xue Mu looked down at his clothes, his mouth twitching.
What kind of regular monk’s robe is this?
It’s a bathrobe, damn it.
Because he had transmigrated straight from his apartment, he was wearing nothing but a white terry cloth bathrobe tied at the waist.
It was an absolute tragedy.
When other people transmigrated, they at least brought a wallet or a smartphone to give themselves an edge.
He, on the other hand, had arrived completely stripped bare with absolutely nothing to his name.
Wait, that’s not right…
I had that bronze fragment clutched tightly in my hand when I crossed over.
Did they confiscate it?
Seeing him remain silent, the young girl’s expression shifted into a knowing, teasing smirk.
“You’re actually quite handsome…
and you’ve got absolutely nothing on under that robe.
I bet you’re a rogue monk, aren’t you?
Could you be practicing Joyous Chan?” A young girl talking about erotic cultivation without even blushing…
You’re definitely no saint either, Xue Mu grumbled internally.
Aloud, he replied, “Well, my devotion to the Buddhist path wasn’t firm enough, so I returned to secular life.
Honestly, I’ve spent my entire life meditating in an isolated mountain.
You two are the very first outsiders I’ve ever encountered.
In fact, I don’t even know what dynasty we are currently in…” “So your sudden appearance out of midair…
was that because the Buddha struck you down with lightning?” “Bingo, kiddo.” “My name isn’t kiddo, it’s Xiaochan.
Yue Xiaochan,” the girl replied, still grinning.
“And don’t bother trying to fish for information.
My name isn’t some grand secret—unlike a certain someone who doesn’t have a single drop of truth in his mouth.
The Great Zhou Dynasty has ruled this land for a thousand years, yet here you are asking what era it is.
Besides, the fabric of your robe is incredibly luxurious.
If you’re going to play the isolated mountain hermit card, at least make it believable.” Xue Mu knew his cover story wouldn’t convince anyone, but they didn’t seem particularly inclined to press him on it either.
Perhaps in a world this unscientific, bizarre phenomena were so commonplace that a man falling from the sky simply wasn’t worth throwing a massive interrogation over.
Furthermore, their sect seemed incredibly chaotic and unconventional; even though she clearly didn’t believe a word he said, she wasn’t angry at all.
In fact, she seemed to find his blatant lying rather amusing.
Ultimately, she was just young, and her natural curiosity about the world made her treat him like an intriguing new toy.
This “interrogation” felt less like a hostile questioning and more like a bored teenager looking for someone to pass the time with.
If he were dealing with her master—who viewed people as mere stepping stones—the woman wouldn’t have wasted her breath.
If he was useful, she’d use him; if not, she’d slaughter him.
Who would bother chatting him up?
And as for this Great Zhou…
isn’t a thousand years stretching it a bit?
If it were eight hundred years, it might align with something back home.
But during that eight-hundred-year Zhou Dynasty, Buddhism didn’t even exist yet…
Xue Mu threw out a careful test.
“The Spring and Autumn Period?” Yue Xiaochan blinked at him.
“Spring and Autumn?
What’s that?
A couple of seasons?” Xue Mu was totally floored.
He couldn’t tell if this was a completely different dimension or if this girl was just proudly uneducated.
After brainstorming a bit, he tried a different angle.
“It’s…
a period where many different schools of thought clash and engage in a grand cultural debate.” Yue Xiaochan stared at him intently for a long while before finally responding, “If that’s what you mean by Spring and Autumn…
then yes, we are in the Spring and Autumn Period right now.” “…” Xue Mu was at a complete loss for words.
You’re telling me this Great Zhou Dynasty has been stuck in the Spring and Autumn Period for a millennium?!
Yue Xiaochan added casually, “A hundred martial sects, locked in a fierce rivalry for a thousand years.
Isn’t that exactly what you described?” Right, so their ‘hundred schools’ are actually martial arts factions…
Xue Mu finally received absolute confirmation that this was a completely different world.
This Great Zhou Dynasty shared absolutely nothing with the history he knew.
He needed to throw his textbook knowledge out the window immediately, or it was going to get him killed.
Yue Xiaochan continued, “I figure you must belong to some toxic cultivation sect.
You probably messed up your training methods, failing to gain a shred of power while managing to trap a cocktail of lethal poisons inside your skin.
Still, there is one perk to your condition: ordinary people will think twice before killing you, if only to avoid the hassle of burning your corpse to stop a potential breakout.” “…” Great, even the teenagers here understand quarantine protocols.
Yue Xiaochan surveyed him up and down one last time until her curiosity finally ran dry.
Looking rather bored, she murmured, “Alright, I’m out.
This is getting dull.” The moment the words left her lips, she vanished into thin air without a trace, moving like a phantom.
Staring at the empty carriage, Xue Mu collapsed backward onto the daybed with a heavy thud.
Only now could he finally relax his tightly wound nerves and actually process his new reality.
Even though the young girl had behaved reasonably well—smiling, lively, and conversational—she had ultimately revealed the innate contempt that the strong held for the weak in this world.
In the eyes of these women, martial prowess was the absolute golden metric; everything else was a sideshow.
Anyone hoping to rely on smooth-talking charm or mere wit to sweep women off their feet here was delusional.
If this survival-of-the-fittest mindset was universal, it made perfect sense why so many of his transmigrated predecessors spent their lives desperately grinding for power.
The stinging taste of being looked down upon was genuinely hard to swallow.
But practicing martial arts…
I’m already twenty-seven.
I come from a completely alien culture.
If I start training now against native geniuses who have breathed spiritual energy since infancy, who could I possibly beat?
It’s not like I have a cheat code…
Xue Mu lifted his palm to look at it.
The catalyst for his entire journey had been that tiny bronze piece slicing his finger.
That fragment had to be closely tied to this world.
He needed to find a way to retrieve it from these women—maybe it really was his ultimate cheat.
The moment he looked down, Xue Mu snapped completely upright.
There was no cut on his palm.
Instead, a strange, intricate emblem had taken its place.
Xue Mu scrambled to his feet, rushing to the carriage window to inspect it under the bright sunlight.
It was definitely an emblem—a faint, cyan, wave-like pattern identical to the engravings on the bronze fragment he had found.
It was only the size of a fingernail, appearing as though it were perfectly tattooed directly into his flesh.