Qiaoxi Village sat on the west bank of a stone arch bridge; the far side, to the east, was called Qiaodong Village.
Since a stone arch bridge had been built here, the volume of water flowing through was naturally considerable.
Apart from being prone to flooding when the rainstorms ran wild, in normal times it was very well suited to farming.
And so Qiaoxi and Qiaodong were not poor villages — it was only that the petty local clerks squeezed too hard, leaving the people of both villages scraping to keep fed.
When Zhou Yuan first discovered he'd crossed over, he'd been thrilled — but a mere two days later he'd come to regret it.
What he'd pictured, after all, was wives and concubines in droves and unending wealth; the reality was one steamed bun and half a bowl of bitter greens.
Luckily, his game-ified sight offered him a hope he'd never known before, which let him just barely accept this strange world.
But twenty days ago, a county clerk and his bailiffs had arrived together at Qiaoxi Village and proclaimed the court's latest round of conscription.
Only then did Zhou Yuan learn that Qiaoxi Village belonged to a nation called Great Wei.
Great Wei used a three-household levy: whenever there was war or corvée, every three households contributed one able-bodied man.
To be honest this method wasn't especially harsh by the standards of the ancients — but as luck would have it, Zhou Yuan, a lone household, fell within the scope of this levy too.
The moment he heard it, Zhou Yuan thought: you want me to go fight your war? I'd be better off ducking into the deep woods and living off the wild.
Ducking into the old woods, at least he could poach a chicken here, borrow some grain and clothes there. Set foot on a real battlefield, and a pack of villagers would just be slaughtered like livestock by armored soldiers.
But he'd underestimated the villagers' cunning. That same day, he and Ergou were each placed under the watch of three village men by the lizheng — the village head.
Zhou Yuan was watched because he was a lone household with no ties; Ergou wasn't much better off.
Ergou's father had broken his leg in the corvée a dozen-odd years back and ruined his manhood besides, leaving Ergou his only child.
The moment the man heard the levy had fallen on his household, he insisted on dragging his crippled leg to go in Ergou's place — but this time it was military service, not corvée, and the village head wouldn't agree no matter what.
In the end, with no other way, the village scraped together a little money and traded for a girl from Qiaodong Village to be Ergou's wife.
Now the whole village hoped Ergou would rise to the occasion these next few days and leave the Zhao line an heir before he went off to the army.
As for Zhou Yuan, he himself had no thought of leaving an heir, and the village wouldn't help a parentless lone household like him take a wife either.
For one, they feared it would ruin some girl; for another, any parents with a shred of conscience wouldn't throw their daughter away on a lone household with no one to lean on.
So: Ergou took a wife while Zhou Yuan drank chicken soup; Ergou slept holding his bride while Zhou Yuan lay in a room with three grubby village men.
Set side by side, Ergou was still the winner, and Zhou Yuan the truly wretched one.
The more he thought about it, the less he could sleep — so he simply got up to test whether Uncle Dahuang, on watch, had nodded off yet.
"Uncle Dahuang, I've changed my mind. You lot find me a wife too."
"Get lost. What decent family would ever fancy you?"
"I don't mind an indecent family. I hear the girls from bad families are prettier."
"Rubbish. What's a good family, what's a bad family?
A bad family's one like yours — no one to back you, can't even manage a wife, and you want pretty too? I call that a good laugh."
"Tch, we're not talking about the same thing. I meant little demon-girls, little succubi — who said anything about respectable girls?"
"Good heavens, this is too much. When did you turn so sinister, boy — setting your sights on demons now?
A good thing we're off to the army in a few days. Leave you in the village and there's no telling how many households you'd ruin, how many feral brats you'd leave behind."
Dahuang's full name was Zhao Dahuang — same clan as the just-wedded Zhao Ergou. Villagers' names were lowly; hardly any had a proper one.
Zhou Yuan's name in Qiaoxi Village was "Shitou" — which wasn't much better, but at least a cut above the likes of Ergou and Dahuang.
Unable to sleep, he couldn't help but call up his attribute panel and study it closely, hoping to find some hidden path to leveling up.
Name: Zhou Yuan
Health: 98%
Essence: 1, Qi: 1, Spirit: 1
Skills: None
Experience: None
A very spare attribute panel — apart from lacking the traditional "level," not one of the core figures was missing.
"Still so even. After all these days of hard training, why hasn't anything changed at all?
Either the effect's too tiny to show, or it's been too short a time for any obvious effect."
Ever since hearing he'd be conscripted, Zhou Yuan had trained every day — and so had the village men.
No one was waiting around to die; everyone wanted to train as hard as they could, even for half an ounce more strength.
But reality was cruel. Apart from the half-day lost to Ergou's wedding this afternoon, Zhou Yuan had already been training for twenty-some days.
Not only had the three figures — Essence, Qi, Spirit — shown no change whatsoever, his Health had instead dropped by 2%.
What a business. Pulled muscles and an empty belly; whether there was any effect was hard to say, but he'd certainly sweated plenty first.
"Experience, experience. Just find the way to gain experience, and everything will turn around."
Drifting off in a haze, Zhou Yuan fell asleep — but Dahuang and the other two didn't relax their guard, taking turns on watch, eyes fixed dead on this sinister lad.
By the next midday, Zhou Yuan woke sated and brimming, and hurried off to the outhouse to relieve himself.
"Morning, Uncle Dahuang."
"It's not early — almost time for the midday meal. You'd do better to go back for another nap; I'll call you when it's time to eat."
Zhou Yuan now enjoyed a landlord's treatment: no cooking his own meals, no boiling his own water.
The three village men were brisk and deft, letting him properly savor Qiaoxi Village's highest standard of living.
"That won't do — fetch me my hatchet. A day without practice and I'm not at ease."
"Fine. Wait here."
Uncle Dahuang handed over a hatchet and casually set up two lengths of dead wood.
"Be quick about it. I've still got to light the fire shortly, so quit puzzling over that tetanus blade-art of yours.
Once the firewood's split, you can mull it over as long as you like — no one'll stop you."
"It won't hold things up. Wait till I master Mighty Mountain-Cleaver and pass it down as our village's guardian art."
The three village men looked at one another, then hastily snatched up the hardwood staves at their sides, lips curling with lingering dread.
"Old Huang slipped up there. Hand him a hatchet, and what if 'cleaving the mountain' turns into 'cleaving the men'?
Lucky Shitou's not too far gone, or one of us would've gone down for sure. Next time he practices the blade, somebody remind us — don't go falling into this boy's hands."
"What are you saying? You can't go spouting that Shitou's gone mad.
If he heard it and passed it to the bailiffs, we'd have to make up a man — and keep the madman."
"Right, right, right — mustn't talk loose. Shitou's a clever one, the famous sharp wit of all the villages for ten li around.
Anyone who dares call our Shitou mad, let his household fill Shitou's place."
Now wasn't this a fine thing: Zhou Yuan thought the villagers ignorant, the villagers thought him mad, and everyone was putting on a show — none of them a worse actor than the rest.
Luckily Zhou Yuan was wholly absorbed in splitting wood and honing his blade, and didn't hear the three men's muttering.
Otherwise he'd surely have introduced the bailiffs to his new buff — and used "to prevent worsening madness from triggering a camp riot" as a pretext to demand a normal man serve in his place.
"Almost — just a little more — break for me!"
Zhou Yuan did not disgrace the "madman" title the villagers had given him: muttering to himself, face flushed red, he glared fixedly at the dead wood and hacked down hard.
He hadn't lied — he really was practicing the blade. He knew no martial arts, but he could at least manage a plain, honest motion like splitting Mount Hua.
Over these days of training, though his attribute figures hadn't shifted in the slightest, the feel of the chop had grown more and more satisfying, more and more exhilarating.
"Ding."
【You have comprehended "Mighty Mountain-Cleaver" and mastered a blade technique.】
TL Notes:
TL Note: Li — a traditional Chinese unit of distance, "ten li around" is an idiom for the whole surrounding district.