Chapter One: I Want to Learn Martial Arts

As dusk gradually fell, the storeroom of the Datong Trading House was shrouded in a gentle gloom.

Dressed in coarse linen, Chen Fan set aside his abacus and brush, stifled a yawn, and stretched his weary limbs, his joints crackling with small pops. The dim sunlight outside filtered through the window, illuminating the distant, gray-brown city walls. Though this delicate-featured youth looked no more than thirteen or fourteen, his eyes betrayed a depth of emotion far beyond his years.

“It’s been half a year since I arrived here...”

He was a traveler from another world.

The place he now found himself in was a feudal realm known as the Great Qian Dynasty, a nation that existed in neither memory nor record from his previous life. All Chen Fan knew was that this was Feiling County, a small town under the jurisdiction of Yandu City in Qinghe Prefecture; beyond that, he understood almost nothing.

As his mind wandered, the door creaked open and an elderly man entered. Chen Fan quickly reined in his wild imaginings and fixed his gaze on the cloth pouch in the elder’s hand.

The old man inspected the ledgers and papers Chen Fan had been working on, then nodded with satisfaction. “Little Chen, you’ve worked hard this month...” he said, handing over the pouch. “This is your monthly wage.”

Chen Fan accepted the pouch with delight. “Thank you, Steward Hou.”

“Keep up the good work.” The old man stroked his beard, nodded kindly, and left without further words.

Only then did Chen Fan untie the pouch, letting the copper coins and scattered bits of silver spill into his palm. After confirming the sum was correct, he carefully tucked away the pieces of silver close to his body and fastened the pouch to his belt.

One string of copper coins and two taels of broken silver—a total value of three taels.

For someone of humble origins like his predecessor, this was a handsome sum, enough to feed a family of five or six for a considerable time.

In his past life, Chen Fan had not been a man of high learning, though he did manage to graduate from university. Upon arriving in this world, his knowledge was far above that of the common folk. It took him several months to master the unfamiliar script, and with much effort, he finally secured a job as a bookkeeper.

This was the second month he had received his wages.

Recalling the hardships and disdain he faced after crossing over, and how Steward Hou had eventually come to value him, awarding him a monthly wage of three taels, Chen Fan, despite his worldly experience, could not help but feel a surge of emotion.

It only strengthened his conviction: in every world, the accumulation of knowledge is of paramount importance.

—

Chen Fan strode down the wide avenue, his pace unconsciously quickened by the weight of fresh vegetables and meat swinging from his hand.

The county town where he lived was not particularly prosperous, but the streets were broad, bustling with passersby. The aroma of wine drifted from a roadside tavern, making his nose twitch and his steps slow.

He glanced at the wine shop but, suppressing temptation, moved on.

The government of the Great Qian Dynasty strictly forbade the private brewing of liquor. As a result, wine was exorbitantly priced—often dearer than meat. In his memories, his family could sometimes afford a little meat, but had never once brought wine home.

Just then, a burst of wild, unrestrained laughter erupted ahead. Chen Fan’s ears pricked; he narrowed his eyes and stopped, peering down the road.

A thunder of hooves and a cloud of dust heralded the approach of a mounted party.

At their head rode a young man in sumptuous robes astride a white horse, perhaps just past twenty. The wild laughter was his, and as their horses galloped forward, chaos erupted among the crowd.

Within the town walls, riding in such a reckless manner was strictly forbidden. But rules, it seemed, were made to be broken—anyone daring to ride so brazenly within Feiling County was no ordinary citizen.

Chen Fan immediately recognized trouble and shrank back to the roadside. With his slight frame, a collision with a galloping horse would shatter his ribs if not kill him outright.

Pedestrians scattered in panic, cries rising in the air.

Suddenly, a gasp sounded near Chen Fan. “Look at that person!”

Startled, he turned to see a white-robed youth standing motionless in the middle of the street, seemingly frozen as the horses bore down upon him.

Chen Fan’s pupils contracted. In another heartbeat, he would witness a gruesome death.

A surge of emotion shot through him and, without thinking, he darted forward to pull the youth to safety.

But before he could reach out, the white-robed youth gave a soft laugh, pushed off with both feet, and seemed to float effortlessly toward the oncoming horses.

His hands landed with uncanny precision on the forehead of the charging white horse.

In an instant, the lead horse seemed struck by lightning, its forelegs buckling as it crashed to the ground.

Its rider, the young nobleman in rich robes, could not stop his forward momentum. He flew from the saddle, tumbled across the dirt, and was left bleeding and unconscious.

“Young master!” his retinue cried, reining in their mounts and dismounting in haste.

Chen Fan stared, wide-eyed, utterly stunned.

The white-robed youth landed lightly, his garments unsoiled, as if he had never touched the dust of the earth.

This was beyond the realm of human ability.

As he gazed at the ethereal youth, Chen Fan felt his worldview shatter.

To think human strength could reach such heights.

“A martial artist! This is a true master of the martial way!” he soon heard the excited murmurs of those around him.

A martial artist?

Chen Fan’s mind raced. This world was clearly more extraordinary than he had imagined. Could martial arts truly reach such a level?

On the avenue, the young nobleman was helped to his feet by servants, his face covered in blood, lips twitching, already unconscious.

Listening to those around him, Chen Fan quickly learned this was the second son of the He family’s third generation—a name he recognized. Although he had not been in this world long, he knew the He family was one of the leading clans of Feiling County, powerful enough that even the major gangs bowed their heads to them.

A black-clad steward stepped forward, eyes wary and aflame, but he dared not act rashly. He cupped his fists and said, “Might I ask which family’s young master you are? My He family…”

The white-robed youth swept his gaze coldly over them and shook his head. “I am Li Linliu of White Cloud Dojo. If you seek vengeance, you are welcome to come at any time.”

At these words, the steward’s eyes flickered and his expression changed at once. He dared not utter another word; clearly, the name Li Linliu carried weight. With a glance, he signaled his people to retreat, unwilling to provoke this individual.

These were no fools.

Li Linliu sneered and, turning back, glanced at Chen Fan, nodding to him.

Naturally, Li Linliu had noticed that, among all those on the street, only Chen Fan had reached out a hand to help, though unsuccessfully.

Chen Fan now saw Li Linliu’s face clearly—bright eyes, handsome features, skin so fair it seemed almost otherworldly.

A thought struck him—this was no young lord, but a beautiful girl disguised as a man!

Yet Li Linliu merely nodded to him, gave him a brief glance, and with light steps, disappeared into the distance.

Chen Fan took a deep breath, calming his pounding heart after a long moment.

His excitement was not because of Li Linliu’s beauty, but because it felt as if a great door had opened before him.

In these months since his arrival, he had heard the term “martial artist,” but never gave it much thought, dismissing it as nothing more than the martial arts of his former world.

But now, having witnessed Li Linliu’s effortless defeat of the horse and the reaction of the He family, a fervent desire surged within him.

“I must learn martial arts too!”

He burned with longing and, from that moment on, committed the name “White Cloud Dojo” firmly to memory.