Chapter 40 | Powering Up by Meddling in Other People's Business

The next day.

Just as the sky was beginning to brighten, Meiwu Town was still shrouded in a thin, blue-gray mist.

Chen Zui wrapped his red-tasseled spear with cloth strips, slung it over his back, and gently closed his door.

The streets in the early morning were empty, save for a few early-rising sparrows hopping about on the bluestone slabs, pecking at grain scattered the night before.

He walked to the entrance of the bun shop. It hadn't opened yet; only a few wisps of steam escaped from the gaps in the steamers.

Yun'niang was likely already busy in the back kitchen.

He reached into his robe and pulled out a heavy purse, placing it gently on the stone steps before the door.

This was the silver he had saved over the past two months. It wasn't much, but it was enough for Yun'niang and Xiao Shitou to live peacefully for a year or so.

Having done this, he straightened up, took one last look at the nameless bun shop, and turned toward the ferry crossing.

The mist was thick, leaving the river surface a vast expanse of white, hiding the willow-lined embankment on the far shore.

The boatman was squatting at the bow rinsing his mouth. Seeing someone approach, he quickly stood up to greet him.

“Where to, guest?”

“I don’t know. Just follow the current.”

The boatman paused, but didn't ask further. He untied the mooring rope and pushed off with his bamboo pole.

The black-awning boat slowly left the shore, its bow cutting through the calm water and leaving a shallow ripple behind.

Meiwu Town gradually blurred in the morning mist. The white walls and black tiles grew hazy, the riverfront corridors became silhouettes, and finally, only a few scattered lights remained, flickering in and out of existence within the fog.

Just as the town was about to disappear completely from his sight, two figures—one tall, one short—suddenly appeared on the shore.

The taller one held a lantern, while the smaller one stood on his tiptoes, waving toward the river.

“Brother Chen! Brother Chen!”

Xiao Shitou’s voice drifted through the mist, carrying a hint of a sob.

Yun'niang didn't speak; she only held the lantern high, its dim yellow light blurring into a warm glow within the morning mist.

Chen Zui stood at the bow, watching the two figures grow more distant and faint.

He didn't wave back; he just watched silently.

Until that glow completely merged into the milky-white morning mist, becoming indistinguishable from the light of the sky.

“Guest, is that your family?” the boatman asked.

Chen Zui shook his head, then nodded.

He turned and sat down, leaning against the gunwale.

The river flowed leisurely as the black-awning boat drifted downstream.

The scenery on both banks changed from white walls and black tiles to continuous green mountains, then from mountains to open fields.

A song he had heard in his previous life inexplicably echoed in Chen Zui’s mind.

“I should roam the martial world...”

...

Three days later.

Chen Zui was resting at a tea stall in a small town along the way when he heard the martial world travelers at the next table discussing something.

“Have you heard? A strange thing happened to the Qian family in Meiwu Town.”

“The Qian family? Which one?”

“The one that bullies everyone and runs rampant in the area! Just a few days ago, their young master, Qian Wanjin, suddenly went mad first thing in the morning! He insisted he had been pinned to his bed by a ghost at night, and when he opened his eyes, he saw a red-tasseled spear hanging right over his head, the tip only an inch from his brow!”

“A red-tasseled spear? Isn't that the same weapon as that rumored spearman?”

“Exactly! What’s even more uncanny is that none of the guards in his house, including those two Candlelight Realm peak experts he hired for a fortune, noticed anyone entering. No one knows how that spear ended up hanging over his head. That Qian Wanjin was scared out of his wits; he wet the bed on the spot and has been delirious ever since, telling everyone there’s a ghost in the manor.”

“Tsk tsk, the Qian family deserves it. They were used to acting like tyrants; they finally ran into a Tough Nut.”

Chen Zui picked up his tea bowl, the corners of his mouth curling up slightly.

He had indeed visited the Qian Manor that night.

He hadn't hurt anyone; he had simply used the lightest form of the Thirteen Ghost Shadow Spears to suspend the spear tip before Qian Wanjin’s brow for the entire night.

The sinister aura emitted by the Thirteen Ghost Shadow Spears was definitely not something an ordinary person like Qian Wanjin could endure.

Villains are best dealt with by those even more wicked.

Sometimes, making them afraid is more effective than making them feel pain.

At that moment, a system notification sounded in his mind.

[Ding! Detected that the host's good deed has had a positive impact on the fate of the people of Meiwu Town.]

[Converted through the “Old-fashioned Warmth” Trait, it is now being returned to the host as experience points at a set ratio.]

[Obtained Experience Points: 100 points.]

This system was actually quite sensible sometimes.

“Open panel,” Chen Zui thought silently.

[Character]: Chen Zui

[Rank]: Mountain-Viewing Realm (120/5000)

[Coiling Serpent Willow Spear: Softness Around the Finger]: Core Six Forms activated

[Wind and Snow Night Return Spear: Cold Guest's Path]: Core Six Forms activated

[Thirteen Ghost Shadow Spears: Shadowless]: Core Six Forms activated

[...]

Aside from the change in the rank column and the addition of the Old-fashioned Warmth Trait, not much else had changed.

It was worth mentioning that the three spear techniques provided by the system had finally been activated to the Core Six Forms.

This was because his rank had reached the Second Rank.

This was the advantage of his system.

As long as his rank improved, his mastery of spear techniques would also rise to a higher level.

He had used the core forms of his spear techniques during the battle with Zhao Hanqiu and the others that day.

Compared to those supporting characters, he, as a transmigrator, could indeed save a great deal of time.

“Right, speaking of that nameless spearman, there’s another rumor circulating in the martial world now. It’s said that this person doesn't have any Peerless Sword Manual on him at all. It was all fake news spread by Zhizhou Tower.”

“Fake news? That can’t be, right? Zhizhou Tower’s intelligence has always been accurate. Your source must be the unreliable one.”

“I can’t say for sure. But I heard this from the Taixu Sword Sect. They’re a quasi-second-rate sect; there’s no way they’d go against Zhizhou Tower just for a spearman, right?”

“When you put it that way, it really is strange...”

Chen Zui smiled slightly as he listened to these discussions.

It seemed Zhao Hanqiu and the others had spread the word after returning.

From the looks of it, Old Sun had unintentionally done something very beneficial for him.

“Waiter, another pot of tea.”

Chen Zui set his empty tea bowl on the table and was about to sit for a while longer.

Suddenly, he heard a commotion from the street.

Chen Zui looked up and saw a beautifully decorated double-decker painting boat slowly docking.

The hull was painted vermilion, and light gauze hung from all sides of the cabin. Through it, several well-dressed young men and women could be seen drinking and laughing, the sounds of silk and bamboo music drifting on the wind.

The porters and boatmen who were busy on the dock quickly moved aside when they saw this painting boat.

A few who didn't move fast enough were rudely pushed aside by several guards in martial attire who jumped off the boat, nearly overturning the loads on their shoulders.

A white-haired old porter stumbled, and the tangerines in his basket rolled all over the ground.

He scrambled to pick them up, only for a guard to step on his wrist.

“Old man, are you blind? You dare block my young master’s painting boat?”

The guard was only in his early twenties and looked decent enough, but his brow carried an unabashed arrogance.

The old porter’s wrist was stepped on so hard it throbbed with pain, and beads of sweat the size of beans broke out on his forehead, yet he didn't dare let out even a whimper.