That evening, the three of them sat down to eat together for the first time.
The low wooden table was small, barely enough for the bowls and the pot of steaming vegetable porridge in the middle. Uncle Li sat at the head, Mei on one side, and Zhang Wei on the other. The candlelight flickered softly, casting warm shadows on the rough walls. Outside, crickets sang their nightly song, and the distant lowing of an ox drifted through the thin door.
Zhang Wei held his chopsticks a little awkwardly at first. This was new. Not just the food, but the feeling of sitting at the same table like he actually belonged. In his old life, meals had been eaten alone on the floor or in the corner of the school cafeteria while kids whispered behind his back. Here, the porridge smelled of wild herbs and a little bit of salted pork that Uncle Li had traded for earlier.
"Eat up, lad," Uncle Li said, pushing the pot closer. His voice was gruff but kind, the way old trees sound when they creak in the wind. "You worked hard today. That firewood won't carry itself."
Mei grinned across the table, her cheeks still flushed from running around the garden earlier. "Yeah, and you didn't even complain once. Most boys I know would be moaning about their backs by now."
Zhang Wei took a bite, the warmth spreading through his chest. The rice was simple, a little watery, but it tasted like home—the kind of home he'd never really had. He swallowed and looked up with a small smile.
"It's good. Really good. Thank you… both of you. For letting me sit here like this."
Uncle Li waved his chopsticks dismissively, but there was a softness in his eyes. "No need for thanks every time. You're helping around the house. That's enough. Tell me, Zhang Wei, you remember anything more about where you came from? Any village name? Family trade?"
Zhang Wei shook his head slowly, stirring his porridge. "Not really. Everything's still blurry. I remember… being alone a lot. Cold places. Hungry places. But sitting here, eating with you two… it feels different. Nice."
Mei leaned forward, eyes sparkling with curiosity. "Then stay longer! You can help me chase the chickens when they get out. And maybe teach me how to skip stones at the river. Dad says I throw like a blind ox."
Uncle Li chuckled deeply. "Don't drag the boy into your nonsense, Mei. But… yeah. Stay as long as you need, lad. The house is small, but there's space."
Zhang Wei felt his throat tighten again. He blinked quickly and took another bite to hide it. "I'd like that. A lot."
They talked about small things after that—how the tomatoes were growing too slow this season, the rumor that a big caravan might pass through next month, and Mei's funny story about the neighbor's pig that escaped and ended up in the village well. Laughter came easy, low and warm, filling the little room like the candlelight. For a while, Zhang Wei forgot about the system, the cave, the snake, and the strange power sleeping inside him. He was just a boy sharing a meal with the closest thing to family he'd known in two lives.
Later that night, he lay on his thin straw mat, staring at the dark ceiling. His body ached pleasantly from the day's work. The quiet breathing of Uncle Li and Mei from the other side of the thin wall felt strangely comforting. He closed his eyes with a small, tired smile.
Tomorrow would come soon enough.
The next morning was bright and busy. Uncle Li loaded the firewood onto two large carrying frames—one for himself, one for Zhang Wei. The boy had insisted on coming along to the market.
"I can help carry and watch the stall," Zhang Wei said, adjusting the straps on his shoulders. "I won't slow you down."
Uncle Li looked at him for a moment, then nodded. "Fine. But stay close and don't wander off. Markets can be noisy."
They walked the dusty path down to Greenstone Village together. The morning air was cool, carrying the scent of dew on grass and distant woodsmoke. When they arrived, the small market square was already waking up—stalls being set up, vendors calling out, villagers chatting and haggling over baskets of eggs, fresh vegetables, and bundles of herbs.
Uncle Li chose a spot near the edge of the square, spread out an old, faded cloth on the ground, and neatly arranged the firewood in tidy stacks. He sat down cross-legged, back straight, and motioned for Zhang Wei to sit beside him.
"Just watch for now," Uncle Li said quietly. "Learn how it works. People come, look, bargain. We don't shout like those noisy herb sellers."
Zhang Wei nodded and settled down, eyes scanning the crowd. It was a small village, but lively enough—farmers in patched clothes, women carrying babies on their backs, kids chasing each other between stalls. Laughter and arguments mixed together in a comfortable hum. He felt like a normal person for once, just another face in the crowd. No one stared at him like he was trash. No one knew he carried a broken system in his head.
He was starting to relax when he spotted them.
Three men walking through the market like they owned the place. Broad shoulders, cocky strides, and mean little smiles. They stopped at one stall after another, leaning in close, saying something low. The vendors' faces tightened, and coins quietly changed hands. Protection money. Zhang Wei had seen the same thing in his old world—bullies in different clothes.
No matter what world it is, some people are always the same, he thought, a bitter taste rising in his throat. Scum who prey on the weak.
The three finally reached Uncle Li's stall. The tallest one, with a scar across his cheek, smirked and kicked lightly at the edge of the cloth.
"Well, well. Old Li again. Business looks slow today. How about you pay the usual fee so nothing… unfortunate happens to your nice little pile of wood?"
Uncle Li's face stayed calm, but his hands tightened on his knees. "We already paid last week, Brother Hu. The village head knows—"
"Village head?" The man laughed. "He's busy. We're the ones keeping order around here. Fifty coppers. Now."
Zhang Wei's jaw clenched. He knew if he stood up and fought right now, it would end badly. Three against one scrawny kid and an old man? They'd get beaten, maybe worse. But if he did nothing, they'd just keep bleeding Uncle Li dry. Damned if I do, damned if I don't.
He started to rise anyway, fists already curling at his sides—
A blur of movement cut through the air like a whip.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
All three men flew backward in a single, graceful arc, landing hard in the dirt several meters away. Dust puffed up around them.
A young woman stood where they had been, one leg still raised from the kick. She was tall and striking—sharp eyes, long black hair tied in a high ponytail, wearing simple but well-made green robes with a small bear paw emblem on the sleeve. Her posture screamed confidence and barely-contained anger.
"You three again?" she snapped, voice clear and cold like a mountain stream. "I warned you last month. Stop bothering honest villagers or I'll make sure you remember it longer next time. Go crawl back to whatever hole you came from!"
The three men scrambled up, faces pale, and hurried away without a word, limping and muttering curses under their breath.
The woman dusted her hands, then turned toward Uncle Li's stall. Her gaze landed on Zhang Wei, who was still half-standing, eyes wide. She looked him up and down, a small, amused smile tugging at her lips.
"Not bad, little brother. Most kids your age would've stayed sitting or run. You've got some spine in you. I like that."
She stepped closer, studying him with sharp, curious eyes. "I'm Lin Qing from the Bear Paw Sect. We train up in the northern mountains. If you're still around when you turn fifteen, come find us. We could use someone with guts. The trials aren't easy, but… you don't look like the type who gives up easily."
Zhang Wei felt his heart skip. A cultivation sect. Real power. Real qi. The kind of thing he'd only read about. This world wasn't just villages and firewood anymore. It was bigger. Much bigger.
Lin Qing glanced at the neatly stacked wood and pulled out a small pouch. She counted out a handful of silver coins—way more than the firewood was worth—and placed them in Uncle Li's hands.
"Consider this an apology for the trouble those idiots caused. Buy yourselves something decent to eat."
Uncle Li bowed his head gratefully. "Thank you, Miss Lin. You're too kind."
She waved it off with a laugh. "Just doing what's right. Take care, old man. And you—" She pointed at Zhang Wei with a grin. "Don't forget what I said, kid. Bear Paw Sect. Fifteen years old. We'll see if you've got what it takes."
With that, she turned and walked away, her steps light and confident, ponytail swinging like a banner.
Zhang Wei stood there, staring after her until she disappeared into the crowd. The system window stayed silent, but he could almost feel it watching. This wasn't a game anymore. This was real.
On the way back home, the two carrying frames felt lighter even though they'd sold everything. Uncle Li kept glancing at the silver coins in his pouch, shaking his head in disbelief.
"That girl… she's from one of those big sects, alright. We were lucky today."
Zhang Wei nodded quietly, mind still spinning. "Yeah… lucky."
When they got back to the house, Mei was waiting by the door, curious as always. "What happened? You both look like you saw a ghost!"
Uncle Li laughed and sat down, pulling out the coins to show her. "We had some trouble with those three rats again. But then a fairy from the Bear Paw Sect appeared out of nowhere, kicked them flying, and even paid triple for the firewood. And she invited Zhang Wei to join the sect when he's older!"
Mei's eyes went wide. "Really?! Tell me everything! Did she look beautiful? Did she fly? Did Zhang Wei really almost fight them?"
Zhang Wei sat down beside them, a small, wry smile on his face as he started recounting the story. The afternoon light filtered through the window, warm and golden. Mei gasped and laughed in all the right places, Uncle Li added his gruff comments, and for a while the little house felt full of life.
Inside, Zhang Wei's thoughts kept drifting back to Lin Qing's words.
Bear Paw Sect.
The world had just shown him a glimpse of what lay beyond the simple village life. Power. Danger. Opportunity.
He didn't know if he would go when the time came. But one thing was clear now—this second life wasn't going to stay quiet forever.
For tonight, though, he was content to sit here with Uncle Li and Mei, telling stories by the light of a single candle, the heavy bundle of firewood sold and the future stretching out like an unknown mountain path.
One slow step at a time.