Chapter One: A Hero Saves the Beauty

With a thunderous crash, Skyward Peak shattered into countless fragments, and both the Alchemy Sage Mo Tianya and the Formation King Wu Hengdao vanished into the swirling dust. Multicolored streams of light surged, sweeping up a force mighty enough to destroy heaven and earth, filling the entire world with their might...

Lin Xiaobao struck the wooden clapper hard upon the table, his sharp gaze sweeping across the crowd in the main hall, making everyone tense with anticipation. Then, he took a sip of tea and declared, "If you wish to know what happens next, listen to the next installment!"

He had baited his audience well, savoring the moment for himself, but those listening in the hall were not pleased.

"You've been telling the story of the Alchemy Sage and the Formation King for more than a month. How come there's still no conclusion?"

"Lin Xiaobao, hurry and go on! If you finish the tale today, this gold ingot is yours!" A middle-aged man, plump and dressed in splendid brocade, patted his round belly and held up a gleaming gold ingot in his palm, his voice rising above the rest and echoing throughout the hall.

Silence fell at once. A single gold ingot was enough to support a family of three for three months in Howling Moon Town. Most who came to drink tea and listen to stories were common folk; though they might toss a few coins when a tale delighted them, such a lavish reward was utterly unprecedented.

Hu Youcheng, once a noble, had fallen on hard times and moved to Howling Moon City ten years before. Though his glory had faded, among the commoners he could still savor a trace of noble superiority. Now, he thoroughly enjoyed the envious, admiring looks cast his way, relishing the feeling as if he were once again living his old life.

Lin Xiaobao could almost hear his own throat swallowing involuntarily as he gazed at the gold ingot in Hu Youcheng’s palm. Struggling to control his urge, he slipped the square clapper into his coat and replied with utmost seriousness, "The rules must not be broken!"

With that, and to the astonishment of the crowd, he hurried off to the back room, his heart still pounding wildly.

That gold ingot was a fortune to Lin Xiaobao. With his skill, he could have spun an ending on the spot and tricked the ingot away, but he dared not invent one for this story—for its origin was a dream, an unending serial that played out in his mind like episodes of a drama.

Once, Lin Xiaobao had been a staunch atheist, but after lightning struck him down on Earth and hurled him into this world, he had come to believe that indeed, some things defied explanation—at least, explanations he could comprehend.

He touched the jade pendant lying against his chest. It was shaped like a round, emerald moon, with faint patterns at its center, as if a fiery red dragon and a golden tiger were locked in a fierce struggle.

His grandfather had given him this family heirloom while still alive, and now it was Lin Xiaobao’s last tie to his homeland and loved ones. His grandfather had died when Lin Xiaobao was five. For an orphan, the world, any world, was much the same.

Yet Lin Xiaobao, a lifelong fan of online novels, was deeply dissatisfied with how his transmigration had turned out. Protagonists in novels always ended up with illustrious backgrounds, or powerful masters. Even if they started out as nobodies, it was only to make their later triumphs more impressive.

It took Lin Xiaobao a year in this world to realize that this land was known as Longxiang Continent, in the city of Howling Moon in the Ningfeng Kingdom. Here, there was almost no technological civilization—hardly different from ancient times on Earth. Yet, the heavens had granted the people of this land another trait: cultivation! Perhaps for this reason, the people here valued martial prowess over scholarly pursuits and neglected the progress of technology.

"Riding the sword on the wind, ridding the world of evil." The opening words of the once-popular Sword Immortal novels echoed in Lin Xiaobao’s mind. Fired with youthful passion, he had once tried to join the Zhenwei Martial Hall and embark on the path of cultivation, only to be told that all his meridians were blocked—he could not cultivate.

Unable to cultivate? This struck Lin Xiaobao like a bolt from the blue, shattering all his bright hopes. To make a living, he relied on his vast knowledge of stories from his previous life and took up storytelling. Though not wealthy, he managed to get by. As he liked to put it, he was now part of the performing arts circle, a minor celebrity in Howling Moon City.

Hu Youcheng’s gold ingot still lingered in his mind, tinged with regret. Unawares, Lin Xiaobao had already passed through the city gates. Outside, a moat a dozen yards wide encircled the walls. The current was gentle, and even where hidden rocks stirred up waves, they broke softly. In the late afternoon, the place was deserted. Lin Xiaobao hurried to the shelter of a large locust tree outside the gate and deftly dug up a pile of starstones from the earth.

These starstones, bound together with vines, were quickly strapped to his legs. He could not train in martial arts, but that did not stop Lin Xiaobao from being strict with himself. Starstones were a common waste stone in this world, but far heavier than other rocks. Lin Xiaobao used them to train his legs.

He understood a simple truth: All martial arts are invincible, but none faster than speed. As long as he could outrun others, he would be safe.

It was this relentless training that once allowed him to win a chicken leg in a race against a third-stage Qi Condensing youth.

But there was another reason, more important still. Lin Xiaobao always believed that, since he could cross over from Earth to this world, someday he would rise to greatness like the heroes of the novels—and all that could only be achieved through his own effort.

Each starstone weighed several dozen pounds, and though Lin Xiaobao found it taxing, his perseverance enabled him to bear the load. As he ran, he suddenly noticed something white floating downstream in the moat.

When he saw it clearly, his heart leaped in alarm—it was a person. The snow-white garment was soaked through, the head submerged, long dark hair streaming in the water. From the figure’s outline, Lin Xiaobao could tell it was a young woman.

A stroke of luck! A chance to play the hero! Scenes from countless novels flashed through his mind. He did not hesitate for a moment—he removed the starstones, leapt into the water with a graceful dive, and with a few powerful strokes brought the girl to shore.

He quickly turned her onto her back. She had phoenix-shaped eyes, a delicate nose, and cherry lips that were tinged with violet—she must have been in the water for quite some time.

As Lin Xiaobao’s gaze drifted lower, he was startled. Her outer robe had probably been swept away by the current, and her thin white undergarment clung to her body, nearly transparent.

Her pale, shapely breasts, though still veiled by that thin garment, were a feast for the eyes of Lin Xiaobao, who had long left behind his days of watching romance films.

Names of his former idols—Maria Ozawa, Akiho Yoshizawa, Yui Hatano—paraded through his mind.