Once the status window faded from view, Li Yuan noticed some numbers in his vision. They floated beside Yan Yu, displaying the numbers 0~1.
He reached out to grab them, but his fingers simply passed through. A thought occurred to him, and he glanced at himself—sure enough, a 0~1 was hovering there too.
Recalling the status window from moments before, he decided to test his theory. Carefully, he tried to move his left arm without waking the woman curled up beside him. Yet the slight movement roused her anyway.
Last night had been Yan Yu’s first taste of intimacy; she had gone from a girl to a woman. The innocence she once carried had turned into a softer, more alluring maturity. Her almond-shaped eyes looked drowsily at the young man, and she murmured, “Li Yuan, it’s early. Stay in bed a bit longer.”
“Yan Yu, about last night...”
Yan Yu’s eyes widened. After a brief pause, she sighed softly. “Yesterday evening, I went to Auntie Wang’s to borrow some millet and saw Old Lin’s son had passed away. He'd been sick for so long, with nothing to eat... Of course he'd die.
“Our family still has a little money left, but once it’s gone, I don’t know how we’ll survive. If it ever gets desperate, I’ll clean myself up and put on a decent dress. Then you could sell me to some wealthy family in town if you had to.
“But before that happens, I wanted to give myself to you. No matter where I end up—or if I die—I’ll feel at least a little comfort.”
She buried herself in his arms, trembling shoulders so thin and pale. Choking back tears, she whispered, “I only want to be with you. I don’t want anyone else...”
Holding her tight, Li Yuan said, “I’m going out for a while. If we really can’t hold on, we’ll use the little money we’ve got left. I’ll figure out the rest somehow.”
He eased his arm free, slipped on his undershirt and ragged cotton pants, then stepped into his boots. Grabbing the padded jacket from the rack, he heard Yan Yu’s gentle voice behind him.
“There’s still half a bowl of porridge from last night. It's cold, but you should eat it.”
Li Yuan nodded and went to the table. Quickly, he gulped down some of the porridge. It was cold and coarse, but at least it filled his stomach a little.
“I left the other half for you.”
“You should finish it. I’m not going out. I’ll just lie here a little longer. I’m not hungry.”
“Just eat it,” Li Yuan said, as he slung his hunting bow across his back, tucked a hatchet into his belt, and picked up his three-pronged pitchfork.
Stepping outside, he suddenly stopped short. Turning, he noticed the floating numbers had changed from 0~1 to 1~2.
Li Yuan paused, taking a quick look around before slipping outside. He went down the village’s main road, carefully observing everyone he passed. Whenever he saw people, a floating number appeared above their heads.
Most of them were labeled 0~1. However, if someone was holding a sickle, hoe, or shovel, their number would be 1~2. Some who appeared scrawny or listless still remained at 0~1.
Li Yuan halted in his tracks, realization dawning.
Sure enough, this was just like the system from a certain game he played in his previous life—there was a status window, a way to add stat points, and these numbers represented a sort of overall combat power.
Under normal circumstances, anyone who hadn’t trained in martial arts registered 0~1. If they picked up a weapon, their power fluctuated, pushing the range to 1~2. That said, those with truly poor constitutions could still remain at 0~1 even when armed.
Back then, when this game had first launched, many players called it a numbers game. If you saw a monster with lower stats, you attacked; if some unscrupulous players found someone weaker than them out in the wild, they might go after them too...
But people quickly realized it wasn’t so simple. Soon enough, the game got a new nickname, The Shit Baiting Sunnuva Bitch Game. After all, you might think you could beat someone who had 1~2 while you were 3~4, only for them to whip out some magical item and jump straight to 10~20.
Such abrupt power surges depended on the equipment slot. If you didn’t have one, you couldn’t pull off those kinds of stunts.
“Wait a minute..." Li Yuan himself had an equipment slot. It was still locked, but it was definitely there on his status window.
And that wasn’t even the most important part. He also possessed the ability Eternal Youth.
Glancing again at its description, he saw—
「Eternal Youth: Your lifespan is infinite, and you will always remain at the peak of your youth. You will never die of old age...」
Now that he’d confirmed it wasn’t just an illusion, a rush of genuine elation swept through him. Eternal Youth. He was actually immortal!
It was the kind of thing people only dreamed about.
But he calmed himself. Eternal Youth only meant he wouldn’t die of old age, not that he couldn’t be killed. If he faced real danger without the strength to defend himself, Eternal Youth would be useless.
To make the most of this gift, he needed to avoid drawing attention and steadily build up his power.
Li Yuan continued along the road, thinking, “If that’s how it is, I can’t live too boldly. I’ll rely on time to accumulate my strength and hidden cards. After all, I’ve got more than enough time... And if something can be solved just by waiting, then it’s no problem at all.”
Then, he shook his head and glanced down at his still grumbling stomach, “First things first: I need to fill my belly and get through the challenge right in front of me...”
He suddenly stopped and stepped into the old forest beside the road. After walking a short distance where no one could see him, he tried issuing a command in his head, Allocate stat points.
On his status window, tiny + symbols appeared beside his two skills.
He tried adding a single point to Basic Archery.
Basic Archery(6/10) ➔ Basic Archery(7/10)
Nothing happened. He kept going, adding a total of three more points to Basic Archery.
Basic Archery(7/10) ➔ NEW! Intermediate Archery (0/20)
An acute sense of familiarity with the bow and arrow washed over him. It was as if he’d been holding a bow day and night for several dozen days, pouring all his concentration into training.
He recalled sweating and staying completely focused, gaining that small but significant progress. Yet the memory of fatigue had been lost somewhere along the way, leaving him fresh and unweakened in the present.
Li Yuan exhaled in relief. “Thank goodness these added points don’t drain my energy or vitality. In that case, there’s nothing to worry about.”
With that, he used his last remaining point on Basic Tracking.
Immediately, the status window reflected the changes.
He glanced at the floating numbers again and saw his overall combat power had gone from 1~2 to 2~3.
It might not seem like a huge jump, but given that he hadn’t seen a single person in the village at 2~3, it gave him a reassuring sense of security.
Armed with this overall combat power indicator, he could keep a low profile more effectively. And if he encountered someone weaker who didn’t know any better, he wouldn’t have to remain low-key.
Li Yuan returned to the outskirts of Little Ink Mountain. He walked along the mountain path for a while, then slipped onto a small side trail, hacking away with his hatchet to get through the brush.
After emerging from the trees into an open clearing, he tucked away the hatchet and readied his bow instead, staying on guard. In the distance, a nearly dried-up creek wound across the clearing.
From memory, Li Yuan knew that come springtime this would be a decent spot for game. Right now, though, it was tough to find any animals here. He swung by a few other places he recalled sometimes having wild beasts, but still had no luck.
“Looks like if I really want to hunt, I’ll have to go around to the deeper part of the second ridge..." He hesitated. “I’ll wait a little longer.”