"Pancakes, pancakes! One copper Spirit coin each!"
"You damned gambler! Off wasting money all night again, aren't you? Do you really want to lose every coin our family has before you stop?!"
"Easy, easy, wife—I won't dare next time, I swear."
"Next time?! How many 'next times' have you promised already?!"
"I mean it this time! If I gamble again, may I—may I die without sons or grandsons!"
"Oh, so now you're cursing my son? See if I don't beat the life out of you today!"
"Hey, hey, you all hear the news? Last night, Goldwater Village—wiped out. Every single person. Dead in the most horrible way."
"What? Seriously? No way… Hah, well, guess I don't need to pay old Liu back those silver Spirit coins now, eh?"
"Wow, you're really heartless. How about you pay me, and I'll burn the money as an offering to him instead?"
The chatter grew louder and louder, drifting into Qian Jue's ears until it forced his brain out of sleep. His eyelids twitched twice, then suddenly snapped open. He shot upright.
*Thump!*
"Ah—oww…"
Pain exploded on his forehead as he smacked it against the crate lid. Grumbling, he clutched his head until the throbbing passed, the sting quickly reminding him of where—and who—he was now.
Climbing out of the crate, Qian Jue stretched long and hard, joints cracking after a night curled up tight. Luckily, this body was small enough to fit in there.
Out of habit, he rubbed at his nose and hair, only to find his skin still fresh, no grease at all. That made him pause.
"Hah. So being smaller has its perks—no need to wash up every day!"
He chuckled at his own joke, then inhaled the crisp morning air until his head cleared.
"Alright. Food first. Then I've gotta figure out what time period I'm in. Has the plot started yet? Once I know that, I can make a plan."
He ducked back into the crate, pulled out the little pouch of Spirit coins wrapped carefully in cloth, and counted. After a moment's hesitation, he took out five copper coins and pocketed the rest.
The street outside was already buzzing with life. But what made Qian Jue's eyes widen weren't the crowds—it was the glowing circles beneath some people's feet. White. Yellow. Spinning slowly like halos around them.
He even spotted an old vendor selling breakfast, standing on a pair of rings—one white, one yellow—using a faintly glowing rolling pin to flatten dough.
"So these are… spirit rings."
He watched carefully, fascinated. Sure, he'd seen them last night during the duel, but he had been too terrified then to pay attention. Now, seeing them up close, in everyday life, was something else entirely.
This world really was incredible. No advanced battle qi cultivation like in other novels, but spirits were everywhere, woven into daily life.
What would his spirit be?
Suppressing his excitement, he approached the old man's stall and sat down.
"Well now, little guy," the old man greeted warmly. "What'll you have?"
"Two pancakes, please. And… that soup." Qian Jue pointed to a nearby pot, his words flowing easily in this world's tongue.
"First time here, eh? Let me tell you—these pancakes and this soy-sauce soup are the pride of Nuoding City. Leave without tasting them, and you'll regret it for life!"
Chuckling, the old man served him two golden pancakes and a steaming bowl sprinkled with green onion.
Qian Jue bit into one, then sipped the soup.
"Mmm…" His eyes lit up. The broth tasted like shrimp bisque from his past life, while the pancake was unexpectedly crisp and fragrant.
"Delicious, grandpa! How do you get the pancake so crunchy?"
The vendor puffed up proudly. "Ah, it's the technique! My spirit is a rolling pin, see? I use my spirit skill every time I knead the dough. That's why these pancakes are one-of-a-kind!"
"Hah, there he goes again." Three burly men dropped by the stall, grinning as they waved for their orders. "Quit bragging, old Wang. Just serve up some more pancakes and soup already."
"Coming, coming!"
While Old Wang turned to cook, the three men chatted.
"You hear about Goldwater Village? Whole place wiped out yesterday. Brutal."
"Yeah, definitely evil spirit masters again."
At once, Qian Jue froze. That village—wasn't that the one he had stumbled out of yesterday?
So it was called Goldwater Village.
He leaned closer, listening intently.
"I heard the Spirit Hall is already investigating. But really, what can they do? This isn't the first massacre this year. And if the killers flee to the Star Luo Empire, there's nothing Heaven Dou can do about it. Spirit Hall doesn't seem to care much either. It'll just end up swept under the rug again."
"That's over a hundred lives! How can they just ignore it?!" one man slammed the table, furious.
His companion hushed him. "Easy. We're not even spirit masters. Staying alive is already enough of a blessing. Who knows—next time, it could be our village."
The implication hung heavy in the air.
Yes. In this world, if you weren't a spirit master, you were an ant.
"Funny thing," another man spoke up, "Goldwater Village used to have a Spirit Saint, right? Just like Holy Spirit Village."
"That was over a decade ago," the first scoffed. "Their Spirit Saint died mysteriously. Enemies came for revenge and slaughtered his whole clan. People fled, the village declined. Otherwise, they'd be far more prosperous than Holy Spirit Village by now."
Qian Jue's eyes gleamed.
Holy Spirit Village.
Finally, a lead.
If it wasn't far, he could go there himself and confirm the timeline. No need to risk asking questions that might expose him.
Excited, he quickly finished the soup, stuffed the leftover pancake into his pocket, and flagged down Old Wang.
"Grandpa, how much?"
"Three copper coins," the old man replied cheerfully.
Qian Jue paid, then asked casually, "Grandpa, how do I get to Holy Spirit Village from here?"
The old man blinked. "Holy Spirit Village? You're going there alone? That's a long walk, kid. Where are your parents?"
"My father went ahead to buy wine," Qian Jue lied smoothly. "We're supposed to meet my second uncle in Holy Spirit Village, but he couldn't remember the way. I thought I'd ask."
"Ohh. I see. Well, you're in luck. There's an old fellow named Deng who goes back to Holy Spirit Village every few days after stocking up here. Should be today, in fact. You can follow him. He should be at the marketplace's general goods shop."
"Thanks, grandpa!"
Waving brightly, Qian Jue skipped off like any ordinary child, though his mind was already racing.
As he wound through the bustling marketplace, stalls shouted at passersby:
"Purple Infant Grass! Brew it as tea—great for boosting soul power! Maybe your kid will awaken with innate full soul power!"
"Don't listen to him! Come look at my treasure instead—this old turtle! Nearly a hundred years old, guaranteed tonic. Kill it and you might even get a hundred-year spirit ring! Only ten silver Spirit coins!"
"Really?"
"Of course! Look at this shell—solid as iron!"
The merchant knocked hard on the shell.
"…No, no, wait. What I really meant is… does that grass actually help with virility?"
The turtle seller froze. "…Uh."
Qian Jue snorted under his breath, slipping quietly past the crowd.