Chapter Three: The Days of a Schemer Are Truly Miserable

Page 1/3

He always felt as though there was a normal world inside the mysterious box hidden in his ancestral home’s secret chamber—perhaps even the legendary world of cultivation. The idea struck Qin Feng as incredible, almost unbelievable, as he sat by the window eating breakfast, his mind drifting.

Lost in thought, Qin Feng saw a familiar constable enter the tavern. This man, with weathered, dark features and appearing to be in his thirties, wore a broadsword at his waist and was calling for a waiter to bring some dishes.

“Old Zhang, over here!” Qin Feng called out enthusiastically, setting aside his musings as he saw the acquaintance step inside.

“Ah, Qin Feng, up so early?” Zhang Lang turned, spotted Qin Feng, and came over with a smile, sitting down as he asked, “How’s your injury? Are you all healed up?”

Qin Feng shook his head with a wry smile. “No, not so fast. Physician Xue told me to stay home and rest for a few more days.”

The Physician Xue he referred to was the elderly doctor who had recently visited Qin Feng’s home to examine his injury.

“Right, after being ambushed by that thief, your wounds were serious. You should rest at home for a while,” Zhang Lang sighed. “It’s just as well—the entire constabulary has been busy hunting down the Blackwind Bandit. Taking time to recuperate at home lets you avoid this hectic period.”

Upon hearing this, Qin Feng instinctively asked, “The Blackwind Bandit still hasn’t been caught?”

The Blackwind Bandit was, in fact, the culprit behind the attack on Qin Feng. Over the past twenty days or so, this notorious thief had repeatedly stolen valuable items from the homes of local gentry, prompting a county-wide manhunt. Three days ago, the constabulary’s female captain discovered his trail and led Qin Feng and others to apprehend him, severely injuring the criminal in the process.

Qin Feng had expected that, during his convalescence, the captain would have already brought the Blackwind Bandit to justice. But now it seemed the villain was even more cunning than he’d imagined.

“No, the Blackwind Bandit hasn’t been caught yet,” Zhang Lang replied with a sigh, shaking his head. “The county magistrate is furious and has ordered a full-scale search. I’m run off my feet these days—after this, I’ve got to report in and continue the search for his whereabouts.”

As he spoke, the waiter brought over a lotus leaf packet filled with buns, which Zhang Lang took.

“Well, I’d better get back to the office—duty calls. When you return, we’ll celebrate and welcome you back properly,” Zhang Lang said, waving as he left with the packet.

Page 2/3

“Sigh, as long as the Blackwind Bandit is at large, he’s a threat to the county,” Qin Feng murmured, watching Zhang Lang depart and shaking his head as he slowly finished his breakfast.

After eating his fill, he paid for his meal, then made his way back to the ancestral residence.

...

Once again entering the secret chamber, Qin Feng approached the mysterious box, lowering his head and staring intently inside.

Perhaps time flowed differently within the box. By now, it was already midday there, yet the atmosphere in the valley was one of heavy gloom. The surrounding houses had all been reduced to ruins—splinters of wood littered the ground, and devastation was everywhere. The fences looked as though they’d been battered by fierce beasts, left shattered and useless, the earth pockmarked and streaked with blood.

“What happened here?” Qin Feng wondered, scanning the scene until he spotted a group of tiny people gathered in the valley. They all looked sorrowful as they surrounded two gravely injured, dying middle-aged figures. Nearby lay a severed tail from a monstrous beast.

It seemed that while Qin Feng had gone out for breakfast, the little people of the valley had once again been attacked by a monster. Though they’d managed to drive it off, two elders had been severely injured in the fight—their faces pale, their spirits waning, as if they might fade away at any moment.

“What a hard life these little people have…” Qin Feng thought sympathetically, shaking his head. “Attacked by monsters time and again… The homes they built just yesterday are in ruins again today…”

Moved by the scene before him, he couldn’t help but feel a pang of pity.

At that moment, one of the little people—a young girl in a blue dress—seemed to sense something. She instinctively looked up at the sky, her tear-filled eyes searching, finally settling in a certain direction and fixing on Qin Feng’s position, her gaze full of pleading.

Is she looking for me? Her clear eyes spoke volumes—she was begging him to save her companions…

Qin Feng’s expression grew complicated as he gazed at the two gravely wounded little people. Then he remembered he still had some healing medicine left at home.

Page 3/3

After a moment’s thought, he left the study’s secret chamber, went to the kitchen, and returned with a bowl of medicinal broth.

...

Within the world of the box, Ye Qingyu’s face was clouded with sorrow as she knelt beside the two elders, her eyes brimming with tears.

Just that morning, she’d risen full of hope and thrown herself into building their new home with the others—planting thorny vines, felling trees, loosening the soil, watering, and cultivating spiritual fields. It should have been a scene of prosperity.

But before long, disaster struck. A giant, green-eyed demon serpent crashed through the fence, tore apart the thorny vines, and lunged at them with gaping jaws.

After a desperate struggle, Ye Qingyu and her companions managed to drive the monster away, severing its tail in the process. Yet two elders had been grievously wounded, their bones shattered, their breath faint and fleeting.

They desperately wanted to save the elders, but they had no medicine left. Fleeing for their lives, they’d exhausted their supplies along the way. Now, with the elders gravely hurt, they could only watch helplessly, powerless to offer aid.

“Damn these monsters…” muttered Iron Uncle, a burly man who, covered in wounds, strode to a nearby tree and punched it hard, sending leaves fluttering as he vented his frustration.

“Is there really nothing we can do…?” Ye Qingyu stared at the two elders, her eyes red with grief. Just then, a vast, majestic voice full of compassion and sympathy seemed to echo faintly in her ears:

“Sigh, what a hard life these little people have…”

The sound was familiar—Ye Qingyu had heard it deeply imprinted in her mind the day before. She suddenly looked up, her eyes scanning the clouds. She saw nothing, yet felt as if a celestial deity or exiled immortal had merged with the very heavens, his eyes suspended above the sky, watching over them.

The compassion and sympathy in that gaze seemed to reflect throughout heaven and earth.

Celestial Exile of the Ancient Heavens…

Hope lit Ye Qingyu’s face as she bowed reverently and pleaded,

“Ancient Celestial Exile, our elders have been grievously wounded by a monster and can hardly endure any longer. I beg you, bestow your favor and save them…”