【You have comprehended "Mighty Mountain-Cleaver" and mastered a blade technique.】
【Mighty Mountain-Cleaver, Lv1 (1/10)】
【Effect: Coordinate the whole body, gather your strength, and bring down a single chop from high to low.】
When the prompt only Zhou Yuan could hear chimed out, he felt an indescribable rush of ease, as though years of pressure had released in a single moment.
"Hahaha... I did it!"
The three village men watched Zhou Yuan howl with laughter and shook their heads helplessly.
What a shame. Shitou used to be a dim, slow thing, but honest and good-natured at heart; a word from any neighbor and he'd rush to grab the dirtiest, hardest jobs.
Now look — one conscription order had frightened a simple boy out of his wits. Forget working; they'd thank Heaven and Earth if he just didn't run.
Everyone went out of their way to look after this boy, letting him be waited on hand and mouth — all to ease his mind, so his madness wouldn't worsen.
Yet who could have guessed that splitting a little firewood could make the madness worse still?
The three men exchanged a glance and let out a deep sigh.
"Plague take those bailiffs — they've frightened a simpleton clean out of his mind."
In the end, the three grumbled a few more words under their breath.
Shitou was a gutless thing too. It's only military service — which of us men doesn't have to take his turn? How's he scared witless before he's even set out?
The men murmuring among themselves didn't notice that the dead wood before Zhou Yuan had broken very cleanly — a cut so smooth a rusty, blunt hatchet could hardly have made it.
"Bang."
【Mighty Mountain-Cleaver, Experience +1】
Zhou Yuan was wonderfully exhilarated now. Chop after chop, he soon had today's firewood split, and the skill "Mighty Mountain-Cleaver" rose to Level 2.
"I chopped about thirty times but only gained twelve points of experience — looks like not every chop yields experience.
Still, this is plenty good. Now I know how to gain skills. The key is total focus, constant thought, constant correction."
The appearance of skills and experience left Zhou Yuan thoroughly elated.
Only now did he feel he'd caught the track of opportunity and earned the right to survive.
Just as he was about to keep splitting wood and push to max out "Mighty Mountain-Cleaver," he noticed that his hands gripping the hatchet had already begun to tremble of their own accord.
He had, in the end, a body of flesh and blood, and couldn't be like a true game character — tireless, body hard as a vajra.
So he tossed aside the hatchet, meaning to use his earlier success to train a battlefield masterstroke: "Running."
As everyone knows, so long as you run faster than your own side, your odds of survival rise dramatically.
After all, Zhou Yuan was now just a villager, and his skull was worth no more than any other village man's.
"What's wrong, Shitou — done practicing?"
"I've already mastered Mighty Mountain-Cleaver, and I'm about to puzzle out another technique.
Uncle Dahuang, if you trust me, come split wood in my yard. I can't promise much, but I can at least teach you how to trade one life for one at the limit."
"Pah. Trading one for one — as if that needs teaching.
Someone jabs me with a spear, I don't fall back, I just jab him back, and that's that."
"That's the idea, but in a real fight we won't be facing just one spear, one blade.
Master my method and I'll guarantee you take someone down to the grave with you — on one condition: the other side can't be armored."
"Bah, then your method's worse than mine.
Armored or not, all us men put our backs into it together, jab him down, and stamp him dead too."
"Now that's skill, Uncle Dahuang — have you been to the battlefield?"
"No. My pa went. Before he passed, the old man said: in military service it's all empty talk except the long spear — that's the only solid thing.
Master the spear-thrust and the pull-back, and it beats anything."
"Some sense to that. Find me a long wooden pole in a bit; I'll practice thrusting too."
"Sure. You're strong — a spear suits you better than a blade."
Zhou Yuan hadn't meant to hoard the technique. If he really had to join the army, these old neighbors were more reliable than strangers — they were a natural little band, and one fewer death was a good thing.
But he hadn't expected the village men to have their own ideas, far better adapted to this world than he was.
Luckily he was the sort to take advice; any sound suggestion, he was willing to try.
"Shitou, Ergou's asking for you.
You should've seen it — that boy's legs are limp as noodles, knees knocking as he walks.
Good grief, married only yesterday and reduced to this today — that boy's wife is no ordinary woman."
"I'm telling you, lucky Ergou's off to the army with us in a few days, or he'd surely die on top of that wife's belly."
One of the men watching Zhou Yuan came to his side, pointing toward the gate with a leer and a waggle of his brows.
"Enough of that. Who'd have thought a thick-browed, big-eyed fellow like you was such filth.
Who isn't like that at the start? That's called knowing the marrow's sweetness once you've tasted it — deep feeling and devotion."
"Eh? Shitou, how do you know all this? Tell me — have you been sneaking under someone's quilt?
Aha, so you really aren't any good after all. We've waited on you all these days, and you don't breathe a word when something good comes up."
"Stop right there. My Mighty Mountain-Cleaver's mastered, and I'm just short a piece of filth to test the technique on."
The village man glanced at the hatchet at Zhou Yuan's waist and shrank his neck in.
He went off grumbling, unwilling to let it go — only his grumbling was a touch loud, as if afraid Zhou Yuan wouldn't hear.
"Yellow-bellied boy, no loyalty — wife-stealer, no honor."
Zhou Yuan stood straight and feared no crooked shadow; his blade was sharp and feared no foul mouth. He couldn't be bothered to pay the man any mind.
In truth, the three village men led by Uncle Dahuang had gotten on well enough with Zhou Yuan these days; fearing he'd go mad and hurt someone, they naturally indulged him at every turn.
If that man hadn't talked filthier and filthier, Zhou Yuan wouldn't have bothered scaring him.
When Zhou Yuan stepped out the yard gate, he realized he'd rather misjudged the village man — the state Ergou was in now made it hard not to think the worst.
There he was, face pale, drenched in cold sweat, legs soft and weak; even sitting on a wooden stump, both legs couldn't stop shaking.
Most crucial of all, Ergou's health bar had broken the 90% mark, dropping to 89%.
"Brother Shitou, I've got something to tell you."
"Ergou, don't talk yet — catch your breath.
It's not that your brother's lecturing you, but why push so hard? She's a person too, you know. You're shaking like this — she must be aching half to death."
Hearing Zhou Yuan's words, Ergou's eyes went red in an instant, tears about to fall.
"Brother Shitou, it's not what you think. Cuiniang's a widow from Qiaodong Village; my family's only a touch better off than yours.
What girl from a respectable family would risk widowhood to step through our door?"
"Brother Shitou, Cuiniang's a widow — I don't mind that.
But from last night to noon today it's already been seven times. I really can't take it.
And of all things, my ma and pa want me not to leave the room — I've got to leave them an heir before the army."
The more Zhou Yuan listened, the more alarmed he grew. He'd underestimated Ergou — who'd have thought such a slight frame could wring out so much vigor.
"That, uh, Ergou — you poor thing. How about you bear it a while longer? Cuiniang only wants to give you a child, after all.
I've got a bit of a name in our village, but this is one thing I really can't help with."
"Don't, Brother Shitou — aren't you always wanting to duck into the old woods and be a scourge upon the land?
Take me with you. Let's go now. I daren't fall back into the hands of the bailiffs or Cuiniang — they all want my life."
Ergou's lament not only failed to rouse Zhou Yuan's sympathy — it made him turn serious.
"Ergou, whether we go or not, set that aside for now.
First explain something to me. What exactly do you mean by 'a scourge upon the land'?"