Chapter 11

In the post, the OP (original poster) briefly recounts their first-person experience of obtaining a top-tier martial arts technique in the game, tearfully condemning the game company’s ethics and how utterly unreliable this so-called highest-level martial art turned out to be.  

According to the post, the original poster, a perceptive disciple of the Beggars’ Sect, happened upon a lazy and slovenly old beggar within the sect. Driven by that universal gamer mentality we all know, the poster frequently brought the old beggar food and drinks. Eventually, after accumulating enough favorability points, the poster received a supreme-grade martial arts manual.

Lazy Donkey Rolls (Top-Tier): Movement skill, exclusive to Beggar Sect disciples.

Overwhelmed with excitement, the OP immediately learned the skill. But after testing it in combat, both against monsters and in PvP, they realized its effects were no different from a standard second-tier martial art. When they reached out to the game company, the response was that this was “working as intended” and not a bug.

Top-tier martial arts hold an irresistible allure for players, far greater than any romanticized fantasy. Not only did the thread quickly skyrocket to over a thousand replies, but related discussions also dominated the first three pages of the forum. Finally, on page 2341, a perceptive player offered their insight: 

“Back in the Novice village, the mayor explained that martial arts in the jianghu are ranked from first-tier (lowest) to ninth-tier (highest), as well as top-tier. Maybe the defining trait of top-tier skills isn’t raw power, but that they’re unique and non-repeatable? In terms of strength, they might not even surpass ninth-tier skills.”

This explanation poured cold water on everyone’s dreams of obtaining top-tier martial arts,but they had to admit, it was the most reasonable interpretation of the OP’s situation.  

After browsing the forum, Wuling Penghao turned off his communicator. “Since the hype around Great River Eastward has mostly died down…” 

Yanlong Xisha shot him a frosty glare.  

“…let’s just post the bounty first.”

Yanlong Xisha nodded slightly, somewhat satisfied. After a moment’s thought, she added, “Didn’t Black Swan run into Yun Feiyang today? There was a newbie female player with him. If Yun Feiyang’s too hard to kill, why not go after the newbie first?”

Everyone in the conference room immediately focused their attention on the Black Swan Knight.

“I can’t confirm whether the two actually know each other,” Black Swan Knight replied with forced composure. This matter truly wasn’t leaked by him, even if he wanted revenge, he wouldn’t involve this unreliable young lady in his schemes. Who knew what fresh chaos she might stir up?  

Tuān tuàn Yuānyuán lips curled into a faint smile.  

“If we don’t know her ID, then have someone sketch the female player’s likeness,” Yanlong Xisha commanded, brushing off Black Swan Knight’s words entirely. “Tell the guild to keep an eye out and report back the moment she’s spotted.”  

Qi Tun Huanyu glanced at his cousin, his lips tightening briefly as a flicker of displeasure crossed his gaze. “…Do as Shasha says,” he conceded reluctantly.  

Hualala Ge shrugged and tossed Wuling Penghao a helpless look.  

…

… …

At this moment, Xie Mengyun remained blissfully unaware that she had drawn the personal attention of Great River Eastward’s eldest lady. Instead, she was busy planning her next move. Though the golden monkey monsters had been thoroughly traumatized by her “dark cuisine” and now trembled in hiding among the peach blossoms, her ‘Hunger Meter’ still teetered dangerously close to the red zone. She decided to gather the duckweed first, then circle back to the roaming vendor for supplies.  

The stream was thick with duckweed—lush, emerald-green clusters drifting lazily with the current, utterly picturesque. Xie Mengyun had assumed this would be a quick task, but after several attempts, she realized a fatal flaw: every time she reached into the water, the ripples scattered the delicate plants, leaving her with only a pathetic handful. If Wu Yue Shan Qing needed these for alchemy, her current haul wouldn’t even suffice for a quarter of one batch.  

Loot: Duckweed ×0.25 stacks.

She vaguely recalled a book once claiming that the fundamental distinction between humans and other animals is the ability to create and use tools. Xie Mengyun was skeptical about the part about other animals but was very certain about her own ability to create and use tools.

The old Novice outfit, which originally destined for the vendor’s trash heap, had been preserved in her inventory as an impromptu crafting material. She fished it out, sliced off a large swath with her Dragon Spring Sword and fashioned it into an improvised net. She swept it through the river, trapping clusters of duckweed inside, then cinched the opening, drained the water, and finally unfurled her creation to reveal a bountiful harvest of vibrant greenery.  

The game’s inventory system was brilliantly user-friendly. No matter how messy an item was when it went in, it would be neatly packaged when taken out. It was so convenient that Xie Mengyun wished she could stuff her own bedroom inside for automatic tidying.  

In less than half an hour, she’d gathered twenty stacks of duckweed, nearly stripping the near shore bare with no signs of immediate respawn.  

The Peach Blossom Stream wasn’t deep, but it stretched wide. The opposite bank housed another breed of monkey monsters, not the Level 23 golden monkeys behind her, but Level 50 Violent White Apes. Wu Yue Shan Qing had marked them clearly on the map with a note:  

“For a quick trip back to town, turn off pain perception and charge straight across.”  

Clusters of duckweed still clung to the lotus leaves farther out. Xie Mengyun waded deeper, continuing her harvest and squeezing every last thread of utility from the beginner’s outfit. After all, the stream was remote, who knew how long a round trip would take? Better to gather extra now. If the alchemy surplus piled up, she could always sell it.  

Hmm…  

Xie Mengyun recalled a post she’d seen in the game forum’s Life Skills section and concluded that, given the current abysmal alchemy success rates, no matter how much duckweed she gathered, it would all vanish into the bottomless pit of Wu Yue Shan Qing’s medicine cauldron anyway.  

The closer she got to the center of the stream, the deeper the water became, now rising past her thighs. She snapped a screenshot of her current state and sent it to Wu Yue Shan Qing via private message:

【PM】 You to Wu Yue Shan Qing: [Image] “Wading through water to gather duckweed for you.”

【PM】Wu Yue Shan Qing to You: “My deepest gratitude. I’ll treat you to a meal IRL. [kowtowing emoji]”

【PM】 Wu Yue Shan Qing to You: “Oh, and could you grab some lotus leaves while you’re at it? Thanks.”

【PM】 You said to Wu Yue Shanqing: “…Fine.”

She finally understood the sweat and tears her friends had shed to fill the guild’s warehouse with such a wide variety of materials T_T.

Xie Mengyun channeled a small amount of inner energy and swung her sword. The Dragon Spring Sword was worthy of its yellow-grade quality. Although it felt a bit weak against the golden monkeys’ sharp claws, it was still very sharp when it came to cutting lotus leaves!

Loot: Duckweed ×35 stacks, Lotus Leaves ×12 stacks  

After she was done, all that was left on the water were bare lotus stems swaying back and forth. Xie Mengyun looked at the “gentlemen of flowers” that she had mercilessly shaved and silently consoled herself—’They’ll respawn anyway.’

The sun was bright and the weather was pleasant. Even being in the water, she didn’t feel cold. Just as Xie Mengyun prepared to return to town, her heart suddenly skipped an unnatural beat.  

There had always been a breeze in the wilderness, but at some point, clouds had gathered overhead, swallowing the daylight, and the wind had grown violent, howling as it whipped through the air. The peach trees on both banks swayed so violently they looked as though they might snap in two. Countless red peach blossoms were swirling into the air like a blood-red mist that slowly bled across the horizon.

Xie Mengyun was staring blankly at the suddenly changing scenery when she felt a sudden chill on the back of her neck.

It was a similar sensation to when the golden monkey monsters had ambushed her before, but it was colder and more terrifying. The reflex she had developed from grinding monsters made Xie Mengyun dive into the water without hesitation, hiding by the roots of the remaining lotus stems.

‘Riding through the Jianghu’ allows players to dive underwater. The amount of time one can hold their breath is directly related to their inner energy. For Xie Mengyun, it was about ten minutes at most.

The underwater world was bathed in a dusky, dreamlike haze, the distorted scenery stretching and compressing with each undulating wave. Suddenly, a white ape lunged toward her position, only to let out a shrill screech and vanish just as quickly, as if wary of the water.  

—’Did crossing the midline count as trespassing into the opposite bank’s aggro range?’

Xie Mengyun had observed that the Peach Blossom Stream was quite wide. The spot where she was gathering lotus leaves was in the middle of the stream, yet this white ape had effortlessly leapt, swiped, and retreated in one fluid motion, no foothold needed. She grimly acknowledged that unless she leveled her ‘Sparrow Steps’ skill past 50, replicating such prowess would be impossible.

The wind had not stopped. It swept across with a force that seemed to scour away everything in its path. The waves on the surface grew larger and larger, giving her the illusion that she would be washed away by the current. Xie Mengyun surfaced as fast as she could to gasp for air—only for the white ape to launch another attack the moment she caught her breath.  

She barely managed to duck in time, yet the creature’s claws still grazed her scalp, sending a searing pain through her skull. A glance at her health bar revealed the damage: a single swipe had wiped out a fifth of her HP.  

‘I wonder if anyone in this game has ever experienced drowning…’ ==

Xie Mengyun had been playing a frustrating game of whack-a-mole with the white ape – periodically popping her head above water to taunt the creature, only to duck back down the instant she saw its claws swipe toward her. This back-and-forth had lasted over ten minutes, but with the ape’s accuracy steadily improving and her stock of healing potions rapidly dwindling, she knew she could only keep this up for maybe thirty more minutes.  

Then came a sharp, distinctly human “Hmph!” from somewhere above the water’s surface.  

Before the sound had even faded, the white ape suddenly shot forward like it had been fired from a cannon – no longer hesitating at the water’s edge but plunging straight in. Its long arms stretched out, razor-sharp claws piercing straight through her armor to sink into Xie Mengyuan’s back, violently yanking her out of the stream.  

Back throbbing in pain, armor damaged, Xie Mengyun could only weep internally – ‘If you were going to do this anyway, you could’ve saved me some healing potions!’

The level difference was an insurmountable gap. After that attack, Xie Mengyun’s health bar was down to a third and still falling. She twisted her body with all her might and swung her sword at the white ape. The Dragon Spring Blade struck its shoulder… only to glance harmlessly aside.  

—’Damn, didn’t even break its defense.’

On the opposite bank of Peach Blossom Stream stood a white-robed old man his face stormy, hands clasped behind his back. It was impossible to tell how long he’d been watching. He waited until Xie Mengyun had gulped down a health potion and applied Golden Trauma Powder to her back before speaking:  

“Why did you destroy my lotus flowers?”

Xie Mengyun: “…” ‘How was I supposed to know the lotus leaves were yours?!’

“A friend of mine needs lotus leaves for alchemy,” Xie Mengyun replied, mustering every ounce of righteous sincerity as she met the the old man’s gaze, “I had never heard of anyone living here before, so I had no idea these lotus leaves belonged to you, sir. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have harvested them.”

The white-robed old man fell silent for a long moment.  

Seizing the opportunity, Xie Mengyun discreetly tried to inspect his stats, only to find, unsurprisingly, that everything from his name to his level was displayed as a row of ominous 【？？？】.

“Then where did you get that hairpin?” the old man suddenly asked, his question completely unrelated to their current predicament.  

‘Huh? What does that have to do with anything?’  

Xie Mengyun froze for a second before suddenly remembering that the Jade Hairpin she wore was intricately carved into the shape of a lotus blossom. Connecting this with the plants she’d just harvested, even someone as oblivious as her could recognize this was clearly a follow-up to that Novice village hidden quest.

With no room for excuses, she sighed and recounted her entire encounter truthfully.  

When the white-robed old man heard Xie Mengyun describe the hunter’s appearance, a coldness flashed in his eyes. Only after he learned that Xie Mengyun had already killed the hunter did he nod grudgingly. “Very well. Given your… modest skills, defeating him must have been a hard-fought battle.”

The words instantly dragged up Xie Mengyun’s traumatic memories of being tossed around by NPCs like a yo-yo.  

Without waiting for her response, the elder flicked his sleeve, draping it over her shoulder, then vanished like mist, pulling her along at terrifying speed.  

Xie Mengyun choked back a scream as external forces subjected her to violent acceleration. Helplessly airborne, she spun, leaped, and plummeted in nauseating arcs. Since she was a child, she’d always hated roller coasters the most!