Da Xuan Martial Saint Chapter 1: Chapter 1 Corvée Duty

A sliver of dawn pierced the darkness, casting its glow upon the towering and majestic walls of an ancient city.

In the millennium since the founding of the Da Xuan Dynasty, the government had succumbed to corruption, and its officials had rotted from within. While a pale golden light bathed the Prefecture City, illuminating every grand estate and crumbling shack alike, it remained powerless to brighten the dark, decayed hearts of the populace.

Chen Mu, dressed in the standard uniform of a lower-ranking law enforcement officer with a wide-bladed saber strapped to his hip, navigated the narrow backstreets. The sharp, metallic tang of blood hung heavy in the air, prompting him to knit his brows in distaste.

He continued his trek a short distance further.

As the path opened into a wider thoroughfare, he encountered seven or eight corpses strewn haphazardly across the ground. Their condition was gruesome; they appeared to have been hacked by frantic blades until they were nearly unrecognizable as human beings. Splatters of gore and chunks of flesh were even stuck to the walls of a nearby residence.

"Sigh, these are men from the Black Sand Gang; it looks like they’ve been completely wiped out this time," remarked another lower-ranking officer standing near Chen Mu with a heavy sigh. "Just a year ago, nobody in this district dared to cross the Black Sand Gang. But since their leader fell, their strength has crumbled day by day. Now, even a few nobodies have managed to finish them off."

"Shh, keep your voice down, it isn't our concern. Just start sweeping!"

A third officer signaled for quiet before grabbing his tools, preparing to clear the blood-stained street.

Chen Mu observed the horrific carnage with a deep frown, but ultimately, he simply shook his head in silence.

Having inhabited this world for two years, such sights were no longer a novelty to him. This Prefecture City, despite its outward magnificence, was actually a lawless territory defined by constant conflict and slaughter.

Feuds between gangs that ended in the total extermination of clans were frequent, occurring even within the supposedly prestigious and orderly 'Inner City'. Bodies were discarded from those gates daily, and officers like them—though technically on duty—were essentially just the cleanup crew for the aftermath.

Chen Mu recalled a colleague who had spoken too freely while intoxicated; the very next day, his corpse was found in a roadside ditch. The higher authorities didn't even bother to investigate or ask a single question.

Time to clean.

Chen Mu rolled up his sleeves, waving a hand to dispel some of the sickening stench of death, and joined his peers.

In the chaos of the Prefecture City, the life of a lower-ranking officer was actually a decent position. As long as a person kept their mouth shut, minded their own business, avoided offending superiors, and remained obedient, they could generally stay alive. It was a far better fate than that of the commoners who lived in perpetual terror.

Chen Mu owed this position to his late father, an old enforcer with a few connections who had secured the job for him. On his deathbed, the man had gone to great lengths to arrange the appointment before finally passing away.

However.

This post as an officer didn't grant the original 'Chen Mu' much more time; he eventually succumbed to illness. The current Chen Mu was a soul from Earth who shared the same name and had inherited this life and identity.

In his previous life, Chen Mu had been an ordinary man, but years of scraping by at the bottom of society had taught him how to read people and navigate social cues. This experience allowed him to stabilize his life quickly after arriving in this strange world and survive the past two years safely.

The officers moved efficiently, each tending to the various corpses.

Like the others, Chen Mu feigned sweeping while discreetly searching the pockets of the dead. This practice of body-searching was an unwritten rule among their kind. Though they rarely discovered anything of great value—as any silver was usually plundered long before they arrived—they occasionally found small items that had been overlooked.

For these bottom-tier officers, even a few copper coins were a windfall.

As he searched the clothing of the body before him, Chen Mu found nothing. Nearby, he noticed his colleague Liu San surreptitiously stuffing something into his own robes.

"Why is it that I never find anything?"

Chen Mu felt a bit frustrated. Over the last two years, he had handled nearly three hundred bodies, yet he hadn't found a single piece of silver. Silver coins were almost non-existent, appearing only a handful of times, accompanied by nothing more than a few stray coppers.

Because of their mutual understanding, he didn't ask Liu San what he had taken, though it was obvious the man had struck gold.

Feeling a bit stubborn, Chen Mu continued to probe the corpse he was working on until he felt something strange. It was a small object, appearing to be a thin paper booklet.

Chen Mu’s muscles tensed instantly.

Taking coins was fine, and even jewelry like jade pendants was considered fair game, but one had to be wary of unusual items—especially paper ones. There was no telling if such things might invite unwanted trouble.

After a moment of hesitation, Chen Mu slightly peeled back the cover to steal a glance inside. It was a worn, yellowing manual, and the words '...Wind Blade Technique' were barely visible on the page.

"Hmm."

Chen Mu’s heart raced, but he maintained a calm exterior, covertly sliding the small booklet into his sleeve.

If he had found a ledger or a map, he would have feigned ignorance. Such things were useless to him and acted as magnets for danger. However, a damaged Blade Technique likely wouldn't cause much trouble. If it held significant value, the killer would have surely taken it during the night.

Liu Song and the others noticed Chen Mu’s subtle movements, but after trading glances, they silently agreed not to pry.

"Let’s move out!"

The group finished their grim task, piling the bodies onto a small wooden cart and pushing it toward the city’s edge.

To the north of the city lay the Mass Burial Mound.

Chen Mu, Liu Song, Li Liu, and the rest arrived and simply dumped the bodies onto the earth; there was no point in burying them. Wild wolves prowled the area at night, and the corpses served as easy fodder. If they had time the following day, they might even hunt a few wolves and sell the skins for drink money.

In truth, none of them wanted to remain outside the city walls for long. Inside, their status as government servants carried some weight, but in the lawless outskirts, no one cared about their titles. Every extra minute spent there increased the risk of an encounter.

The group quickly emptied the cart and hurried back to the city, only letting out a sigh of relief once they were safely through the gates.

"Chen Er, what do you say? Shall we go grab a drink today?"

Liu Song looked at Chen Mu with a grin and made the offer.

His name was actually Liu Song, but since he was the third child in his family, everyone called him Liu San. Since Chen Mu had an older brother who died young, he was the second child, leading others to call him Chen Er.

"No, I’ll pass."

Chen Mu dismissed the idea with a wave of his hand.

While he certainly enjoyed the idea of feasting and visiting music houses, the reality of his empty coin purse was too embarrassing to ignore.

Being a servant was supposedly a steady job, but he barely saw any actual Silver. Most of his pay was skimmed by superior officials, leaving him with just enough for basic sustenance. Luxury items like good liquor were simply out of reach.

Furthermore, Chen Mu had a sister seven years younger than him at home. She had to stay hidden for her safety and couldn't work, meaning he had another mouth to feed. This made his financial situation much tighter than that of someone like Liu Song, whose family had more resources.

Seeing Chen Mu prepare to leave, Liu Song chuckled and said, "Chen Er, your sister is getting close to marriageable age. How about I find a way to marry her into a rich household? She’d be well-fed and cared for, and you’d get enough Silver to make your own life much easier. What do you think?"

Having worked together for years, Liu Song knew Chen Mu’s plight. Chen Mu’s father had depleted the family’s savings on medical bills before he died. Now, earning a pittance as a servant, Chen Mu was struggling to support a sister who couldn't contribute to the household.

They weren't starving like the lowest beggars, but their quality of life was miserable.

At Liu Song’s suggestion, the image of a cheerful, innocent girl came to Chen Mu’s mind. He offered a faint smile and replied, "Let’s wait a couple more years. She’s still too young."

When he first arrived in this world, he was deathly ill. Only his twelve-year-old sister, Chen Yue, had been there to care for him. It was her tireless devotion that had allowed his broken body to recover.

Though he lacked the memories of the previous twelve years, living with her for two years had led him to fully accept her as his sister. As a man from another world, he couldn't imagine selling her for silver; to him, such an act was beneath a human being.

"Fine, if you change your mind, just let your older brother know."

Liu Song didn't push, clapping Chen Mu on the shoulder with a laugh before leading Li Liu away to find a tavern.

After parting with his colleagues, Chen Mu walked down the alleyway until he reached the main road. At a corner stall, he spent ten Xuan Money on two coarse pancakes before making his way home.

"These prices are getting ridiculous…"

Chen Mu felt the few remaining Xuan Money in his pocket and shook his head.

In his borrowed memories, a single Xuan Money could buy a pancake a decade ago. Now, the price was five. It wasn't that the food was more valuable, but that the currency had been devalued by illegal private minting.

This hit low-level servants like him the hardest, as their wages were always paid in Xuan Money. Even though his nominal pay had increased slightly over the years, it couldn't keep pace with the currency's collapse.

He wondered which high-ranking official was pocketing the difference.

Shortly after.

Chen Mu arrived at his residence.

Located on the edge of the South City District in what was essentially a slum, the home consisted of a row of dilapidated mud and tile houses. In reality, it was only two rooms—one for firewood, cooking, and storage, and the other serving as their shared living and sleeping quarters.