True Martial World Chapter 3: If I were to become an expert

Before trailing Jiang Xiaorou, Yi Yun had no clue that “home” could be like this. The moment he first witnessed the sword bearer mounted on that colossal beast, he assumed this world brimmed with airborne martial arts masters and prodigies from mighty clans.

Mysteriously transported here, Yi Yun figured that linking up with a grand clan or sect might let him pick up martial arts someday. Lacking talent wouldn’t matter; he’d live carefree regardless.

Yet, faced with the dilapidated shack ahead, Yi Yun almost crumbled in despair.

Yi Yun had visited rural areas before, where even the poorest homes far surpassed this pathetic dwelling.

This bare-bones hut consisted of mud and stones. It held just a table, two stools, a pair of worn beds, and a stove—nothing more.

Jiang Xiaorou carried Yi Yun on her back into the house. Being hauled like that by a teenage girl left Yi Yun uncomfortable. He tried wriggling free several times, but weakness overtook him after mere steps, forcing Jiang Xiaorou to hoist him up again.

A grown man like Yi Yun felt deeply ashamed relying on a mere girl for a piggyback.

“Yun’er, you must be hungry...” Jiang Xiaorou murmured while settling Yi Yun onto a wooden bed. Sweat drenched her, yet her expression beamed with vitality. Her “little brother” returning from the brink of death filled her with joy.

Yi Yun eyed Jiang Xiaorou’s sweat-soaked garments. Though his frame was scrawny and feather-light, the trek spanned three or four miles. For a fifteen-year-old like her, intermittently bearing his weight proved exhausting.

A girl that age from Earth would collapse from walking three to five miles unburdened, let alone piggybacking someone.

“Yea... A... A bit.” Yi Yun parted his dry lips. These marked his first words since arriving in this world. He’d feared speaking an alien tongue would prove impossible, yet it flowed as naturally as his mother language.

“I’ll prepare the meal,” Jiang Xiaorou beamed. She tenderly cleaned the dirt from Yi Yun’s face, then fetched a pillow for his back and draped a thin quilt over him. Her skilled, caring motions left Yi Yun dazed.

This wasn’t his real sister, but her piggyback rides and devoted attention stirred warm affection within him bit by bit.

Yi Yun offered to help Jiang Xiaorou kindle the stove, yet she firmly kept him bedridden.

“You’ve just recovered from a serious illness, take care to not catch a cold. Lie down here, Sis will be back soon.” Jiang Xiaorou instructed, hoisting a sack of grain that was almost depleted.

Fifteen minutes passed before Jiang Xiaorou dragged the battered wooden table bedside. It bore a large bowl of rice porridge, two strange wild fruits, and a dish of boiled wild greens.

Days of starvation made Yi Yun’s belly growl fiercely at the sight of food.

Yi Yun yearned for pork, roasted chicken, duck, or fish. Merely imagining them twisted his gut.

How could this meager fare quench his ravenous hunger?

He shoveled a huge spoonful of porridge. His hollow stomach only growled louder in response.

A few mouthfuls of porridge and bland boiled veggies followed. Their bitterness nearly choked him, hunger be damned.

Struggling with the tasteless slop, Yi Yun spotted Xiaorou staring at him without touching food. Puzzled, he asked, “Why aren’t you eating?”

“I ate just before I found you,” Jiang Xiaorou faltered, her face paling.

Yi Yun froze; Jiang Xiaorou had been at the graveyard around three p.m.—when would she have eaten?

Realization hit: even scraps like this were hard to come by.

What kind of world boasted beast-riding powerhouses while starving its destitute?

Yi Yun slid the porridge bowl aside and rose to inspect the grain sack in the corner. Sure enough, it stood empty.

Yi Yun understood now—Xiaorou’s usual portions were even scantier. For his revival, she’d doubled up the porridge to nourish his frail body.

“I’m full. You have some,” Yi Yun urged, nudging the bowl toward Jiang Xiaorou. Appetite fled him, but more than that, he couldn’t bear a girl skipping meals to sustain him.

In his heart, Yi Yun wondered if returning to his original world from this strange alternate realm was even possible. If it truly wasn't, he hoped to seize a chance to cultivate and rise as a soaring expert.

However, survival itself appeared precarious. He might starve before unraveling any mysteries.

“I’m not hungry,” Jiang Xiaorou said stubbornly. “Tomorrow is ration distribution day; we can get a piece of meat then. I’ll prepare it for you.”

Ji Xiaorou's cheeks flushed red the instant she mentioned the ration handout. Evidently, she eagerly awaited it.

Yi Yun fell silent. On Earth, life had seemed harsh to him. But beside this alternate world, it was utterly incomparable. Scarce food and the perpetual threat of starvation made living grueling. Enduring hunger was pure torment.

Midnight brought a gentle night breeze, with frogs croaking from hiding spots in the pond grass. Yi Yun remained wide awake. Propped against the bed and bathed in moonlight, he fiddled restlessly with the mysterious Purple Crystal. It was solely due to this Purple Crystal that he had escaped the collapsed mountain's rubble. This tiny crystal card was undoubtedly a supreme treasure. Studying it might yield significant benefits.

For ordinary people, this alternate world overflowed with perils. Yet recalling the middle-aged man astride the massive beast in the wilderness, his aura exuded dominance. The chasm between him and the suffering commoners was like heaven and earth.

“If I became an expert, I’d gain freedom. At least, I wouldn’t go hungry...”

Yi Yun rubbed his stomach, remembering how he had yielded part of his dinner to Jiang Xiaorou. As a growing youth, the porridge had long digested, leaving him hungry once more.

Feeling the gnawing emptiness in his belly, the sleek, chill Purple Crystal in his palm began emanating a subtle coolness, as if...

Oh?

Suddenly, Yi Yun sensed something odd. He sprang upright from the bed, eyes locked on the Purple Crystal. A joyous grin lit up his face.

A close inspection revealed tiny, dim purple motes of light encircling the Purple Crystal.

These motes emerged from thin air, drifting slowly toward the Purple Crystal before vanishing inside it, seemingly absorbed. The cycle persisted endlessly, causing the Purple Crystal's sheen to intensify slightly.

What did this signify?

This revelation quickened Yi Yun's breathing.

As the Purple Crystal glowed more vibrantly, it grew even colder against his skin. This extraordinary chill coursed up his arms and through his limbs, like a purifying light cleansing his body. It left him completely refreshed.

Yi Yun recognized this sensation. While clawing his way out of the cavern, this coolness had revived him whenever breath failed him. It restored his strength each time his body faltered.

Yi Yun understood that for anyone to live and function, the body required energy to sustain and renew itself.

Without food, no nutrients entered the body. Thus, no energy was produced, inevitably leading to starvation.

Digging such an extensive tunnel without food or water for days under brutal labor demanded a power source. This coolness had to be the Purple Crystal supplying him with vital energy.

Reflecting deeply, when he first found the Purple Crystal in the cave, it had emitted a soft glow akin to a night-luminous pearl.

But after burrowing into this odd world, the Purple Crystal's light had dimmed. Likely due to energy consumption.

Now, though, the Purple Crystal's radiance was recovering and strengthening. What source was replenishing its energy?

Observing closely, Yi Yun realized these faint specks streamed from outside the window. They seemed to originate from... starlight.

Was starlight the energy recharging the Purple Crystal?

Yi Yun pondered momentarily before leaping from bed. He approached the stove, pulled out glowing coals, lit a bunch of dry grass, and watched the yellow flames flicker.

With care, Yi Yun placed the Purple Crystal into the blazing fire.

Yi Yun's idea was straightforward: if the Purple Crystal absorbed starlight energy, perhaps it could draw from ambient energy too?

Fire, in Yi Yun's mind a potent form of energy, surely outshone starlight. Absorbing flame energy might speed things up.

Yi Yun never entertained the thought that the fire could melt the Purple Crystal.

Yet no matter how long he exposed the Purple Crystal to the blaze, it remained unchanged, and he detected no warmth from it.

The Purple Crystal resembled an unmelting lump of ice. It stayed icy cold to the touch long after the coal fire had burned out.

Yi Yun shook his head, giving up on the trial.

He chose to step out of the house. The starlight there was thicker, potentially supplying the Purple Crystal with extra energy.

What transformations might happen if the Purple Crystal overflowed with energy?

The idea thrilled Yi Yun!

Yi Yun opened the house door and courtyard door, then gently shut them after him. He didn't want to disturb his sister in the nearby room. However, as Yi Yun entered the courtyard, a slight shock hit him.

Nearby, beneath a tree, sat a girl dressed in green. She polished an arrowhead with great care.

The frosty arrowhead cast cold moonlight across the girl's refined face, wrapping her in a sheen of silver mist. Around her fluttered dozens of fireflies, encircling her like a divine fairy.

Jiang Xiaorou?

By Jiang Xiaorou's side rested a gleaming pile of arrows. Every one was finely made, tipped with razor-sharp heads.

“This is...”

Yi Yun knew little of weapons, yet he could sense the exquisite quality of these arrows.

“Yun’er, why are you up? Nights are damp, and you've only just recovered. Hurry back to sleep,” Jiang Xiaorou stood up at once, ready to guide Yi Yun back inside.

“Sis, why so many arrows?” Yi Yun asked curiously. Jiang Xiaorou didn't look like someone who could draw a bow.

“They're for trading tomorrow's food rations. It's always been like this...”

Jiang Xiaorou gave Yi Yun an odd glance.

“Oh...” Yi Yun clearly had no idea. He had mysteriously crossed into this world; he grasped the language and speech, but knew nothing of “Yi Yun’s” daily life. All memories were purely his own.

It was much like amnesia from a head wound. A person with amnesia loses event memories but keeps hold of language abilities.

Yi Yun had prepared a solid explanation: “Sis, I died once, so some things I can’t recall...”

“You can’t remember?” Jiang Xiaorou asked in alarm. Yi Yun had tumbled off a cliff while gathering herbs, shattering his bones. He lingered bedridden before finally dying from his wounds. His head could have been injured then.

At the thought, Jiang Xiaorou's heart twisted with pain and concern. “Yun’er, you...”

“I’m fine,” Yi Yun cut in swiftly to halt her fretting. “Sis, tell me about this world, and that middle-aged man riding the massive beast. So much I don’t remember...”