Da Liang Country, year 638, April.
Qingfeng Observatory’s kitchen, in the backyard.
In front of the long wooden table, Chen Mu bit into a coarse grain vegetable cake, the rough texture making him grimace.
He was not from this world.
In his previous life, he was just an ordinary, reclusive man with social anxiety; after falling asleep, he woke up in a different body and place, having transmigrated here through possession.
The original Chen Mu was a poor scholar who made a living by writing and drawing portraits.
This place was not his home; his home was at the bottom of the mountain, inside Qingshan County.
He came to Qingfeng Observatory to copy scriptures and earn money.
The original had already been here for two days, and for some unknown reason, upon waking up, his consciousness was gone, allowing Chen Mu to take over his body.
“Cheng Ming, has your master not returned yet?” A Daoist priest in his fifties chatted idly while washing dishes.
The other had the surname He and was a fireworking Daoist of Qingfeng Observatory.
Upon hearing the question, an eight or nine-year-old little Daoist acolyte beside Chen Mu mumbled with puffed cheeks, “Not yet.”
“Heh, it seems that the spirit that possessed the body is quite fierce,” Daoist He squinted at Chen Mu and said.
Chen Mu: “…”
“Do you know, it’s said that the poor scholar who was possessed by the evil spirit woke up as if he had become a different person. He could no longer write well, speak properly, nor recognize any of his neighbors, which is how the villagers discovered the lapse,” Daoist He whispered to Chen Mu with a meaningful face.
Chen Mu: “…” Why the hell are you telling me this? I don’t want to listen!
Chen Mu forced a smile, giving the other a polite and not-so-awkward grin.
“The master is the most powerful,” Cheng Ming swallowed the last of the vegetable cake in his mouth and said with pride.
“Right, no matter how powerful the evil spirit, it’s just a matter of a little fire. Don’t you think?” Daoist He raised an eyebrow at Chen Mu and said in a relaxed tone.
Chen Mu: “…” Was he discovered just after transmigrating?!
Chen Mu glanced at the eight or nine-year-old little Daoist acolyte… Hm, this one could be easily taken down.
He then looked at the short, fat, and burly fireworking Daoist… Hm, this one would definitely not be easy to defeat!
Just as Chen Mu was unsure whether he should grab a bucket and make a run for it, Daoist He resumed washing dishes.
Chen Mu let out a sigh of relief.
However, what was this evil spirit? What in the world?
A series of unfamiliar memories tumbled from the depths of his mind.
This world had legends of gods and ghosts since ancient times, which the original Chen Mu grew up hearing about. Always surrounding him were odd incidents known as possession by evil spirits.
Some people died mysteriously, some disappeared strangely, others changed their personalities completely and did not recognize their own kin.
These unexplainable and incomprehensible events were all categorized as incidents of evil spirits.
In Da Liang Country, this was not uncommon, and even the Prefectural Government Office had officials specifically in charge of such incidents.
And for those who changed drastically, the treatment for possession by an evil spirit was indeed just a matter of fire—burn them to death!
“I must not let anyone discover that I’ve changed soul!” Chen Mu thought firmly as he bit into the hard, dry vegetable cake.
…
Qingfeng Observatory’s Scripture Depository.
Having sent away Cheng Ming, the little Daoist acolyte who showed him the way, Chen Mu stared at the Daoist Scripture on the desk, worried.
Having switched worlds, the language and characters were different.
If it weren’t for the memories inherited from the original owner, he wouldn’t even recognize the characters!
“Maybe I inherited the original’s writing ability too? After all, from what I recall in the memories, writing with a brush doesn’t seem too hard.”
With a trace of hope, Chen Mu picked up the brush, dipped it into ink, and wrote down three bold characters—Root Scripture.
Looking at the well-formed characters, Chen Mu felt bitter.
The handwriting was passable, but compared to the original’s, it was still several years behind.
Anyone slightly knowledgeable could spot the difference immediately.
Handwriting drastically changed, behavior suspicious, possession of a body… Why does this sound so familiar?
If he were to be identified as invaded by an evil spirit, wouldn’t that be catastrophic?
Chen Mu couldn’t help but look at his right wrist.
“Don’t tell me I need to disable myself?”
Thinking of those people in his memory who had been burned to death due to possession by evil spirits, Chen Mu couldn’t help but shudder.
“I definitely don’t want to be burned to death!”
“Just find the right angle to fall, land with your palm in a defensive stance, and the wrist’s soft bone can easily bruise and swell.”
“If my wrist is injured, it’s inevitable that my handwriting will change drastically,” Chen Mu thought to himself.
“To be safe, it might be better to just break my arm!” Chen Mu thought fiercely, gritting his teeth.
Just as he was about to get up and go out to find the right angle to perform a ground fall to break his arm.
Suddenly, everything in front of him blurred.
A semi-transparent gray wall appeared before his eyes out of nowhere.
Chen Mu instinctively reached out and pushed forward, his hands brushing right through the wall.
What the hell?
It took quite a while for Chen Mu to react.
The towering iron-gray wall that consumed his entire field of vision was not physical but an image that appeared directly on his retina.
Transmigration benefits?
Upon closer inspection, indeed, beneath the wall, he saw a row of vigorous characters carved as though by knife and ax.
The characters protruded from the wall, sharp and decisive, giving off an aura of ancient timelessness.
Written: 7136/10000/First Rank.
Golden finger?
How wonderful!
…
Chen Mu quickly came to accept the existence of the gray wall.
Having transmigrated, it wasn’t that strange to encounter a golden finger.
As for whether there was a hidden manipulator behind this, Chen Mu didn’t care at all.
In his previous life, he was just an ordinary homebody.
Now he had transmigrated and got a golden finger.
If it could offer him the chance to boldly, without any reservations, charge forth into a brand new world, even if it were a plot or a trick, Chen Mu would relish it.
This would be a heartfelt grand adventure!
The golden finger was easy to understand, similar to the proficiency system in third-rate online games.
Whenever he wanted, the gray wall would appear before his eyes.
And since the wall was semi-transparent, it was like wearing tinted glasses, not obstructing his view of other things in the slightest.
Chen Mu thought for a moment, picked up a brush, and casually wrote three characters.
The numbers on the gray wall did not change.
Chen Mu pensively picked up the brush again and began to write.
This time he concentrated fully, every stroke deliberate, and as he wrote, he contemplated the structure of the characters.
He continuously compared and improved based on the previous occupant’s memory of the script.
And then, something miraculous occurred.
Threads of insight began to emerge from the depths of his heart, allowing him to clearly sense the differences from the previous occupant’s handwriting, understanding how to improve his own to approach, even surpass the previous standard.
“Through diligent practice, proficiency can increase, and with proficiency comes true insight, enabling genuine skill improvement,” he realized.
Chen Mu couldn’t help but burst into laughter.
With proficiency, what did he have to fear?
Getting caught for a drastic change in handwriting? That’s not even an issue.
Isn’t it just about grinding?
Chen Mu spread out the Daoist Scripture, then found the scripture passages already transcribed by the previous occupant as a decoy.
He put away the paper and brush for transcribing scripture, and took up a new brush to begin practicing calligraphy with water.
He was not sure how long it would take to reach the level of the previous occupant.
Using actual ink and paper would waste a lot of paper and also leave behind practice writings.
Practicing with water was perfect, as everything disappeared with a wipe.
