Daoqi Huangcheng

Chapter 2.2. Bear Hunting Picture

[Song Chen], [First Life]?
[Xiao Fan], [the 9,997th incarnation]?
Having read online novels before his transmigration, Song Chen, combined with the information now flowing into his mind, naturally made the following deduction:

This is the "Book of Ten Thousand Lifetimes," which allows one to live for ten thousand lifetimes. Upon death in each lifetime, one returns to a certain time anchor point, while also carrying some treasures accumulated from the previous life.

The being named Xiao Fan is the owner of this book, the Book of Ten Thousand Lifetimes. He has lived for nine thousand nine hundred and ninety-seven lifetimes. Even a fool would know that such a being must have reached an inconceivable level.

but
he died.

It was completely and utterly erased.

Even the Book of Ten Thousand Generations couldn't save him.

The first 9,997 pages have all decayed.

The final, blank three lifetimes fell upon him.

Xiao Fan's savings were reduced to just those five treasures: a complete Time Treasure Box, a severely damaged Illusion Mirror, and three items whose information could not be obtained.

There is nothing else.

The darkness of the night, accompanied by the dense, drum-like pounding of autumn rain, pounded against the tents, creating a cacophony that only amplified the deathly silence within.

Song Chen suddenly felt a suffocating sensation, as if he were drowning.

It was certainly a good thing that he accepted the "Book of Three Lifetimes," but the karmic debts and enemies left behind by an existence that had lived for nine thousand nine hundred and ninety-seven lifetimes were simply beyond his ability to deal with.

Even if that powerful being doesn't notice him for the time being, if he continues to develop and reveals the "Three Lives" Book, then death will still await him.

How could he possibly defeat an enemy that a person couldn't defeat even after nine thousand nine hundred and ninety-seven lifetimes?
Based on belief?
Driven by passion?

Ah.
Song Chen gripped the blankets tightly and shrank further inside, his mouth dry and his limbs cold.

He was waiting quietly for something.

Perhaps the next moment a finger will fall from the dark sky and crush him like an ant.

I don't know how much time passed in this daze, but nothing happened.

Song Chen opened his eyes, muttering to himself, 'They're not here yet? I'm in luck.'

He felt his nerves pounding wildly, and his blood burning hot.

He was both excited and terrified.

'I made a profit!'

He muttered something to himself again.

Just then, the heavy sound of a wooden clapper echoed through the rainy night military camp.

Song silently counted.

梆~
梆~
梆~
梆~
'It's past midnight, all around. Why haven't Brother Lin and the others returned yet? They have training tomorrow. Even if they're out having fun, they'll definitely conserve their energy; otherwise, they'd be risking their lives.'

Song Chen narrowed his eyes, then glanced at the information on the treasures in the Book of Three Lifetimes, deciding not to take them out for the time being.

The integration of the "Book of Three Lifetimes" gave him a feeling of being reborn. This was not reflected in his body, but in his consciousness. It was a mysterious change that made his thoughts clear and his mind enlightened. This should be due to an improvement in his comprehension.

enough.

for a long time
Song Chen frowned.

At least half an hour has passed. Are Brother Lin and the others really not coming back?

'Something happened, and they're not coming back?'

Suddenly, Song Chen turned to his side, reached under Cheng Ge's pillow and rummaged around for a while. His fingers touched an oil paper package, which he grabbed firmly, took out, and carefully unfolded the folded oil paper, revealing some white powder inside.

'Brother Cheng is unconventional; he definitely has some kind of mind-controlling drug.'

Song Chen picked out a small amount of the sleeping pill with his right hand and placed it on his left arm. Then he quickly folded the oil paper packet and put it back in place. He then raised his left arm and inhaled the small amount of sleeping pill into his nose.

A feeling of drowsiness washed over me.

He lay back down, half asleep and half awake, in a state between sleep and wakefulness.

An hour later, Brother Lin and the other two still hadn't returned.

The rain stopped, but Brother Lin and the other two still hadn't returned.

As dawn broke, Lin and the other two were still nowhere to be seen.

Only when the morning drums of the military camp sounded did Song Chen finally stop his torment and close his eyes to sleep.

He slept soundly.

However, she woke up very quickly.

He felt as if he had just taken a nap, and the next moment he felt as if he had fallen into the water.

He opened his eyes, only to find his vision blurry.

In the hazy vision, cold water droplets dripped down the ends of my hair. Not far away, a soldier was carrying a bucket of water. The tattered curtain of the tent was open, and the blindingly white sunlight made it impossible to open one's eyes.

With such beautiful sunshine, it must be almost noon.

Did he take a nap and it already get to noon?

Suddenly, a cold voice rang in Song Chen's ear.

Where are the other people in your tent?

Song Chen looked up blankly at a short-bearded man wearing black soft armor and reeking of alcohol.

The short-bearded man was looking down at him with an expression as if he were an ant.

He squinted, trying to clear his head, then hurriedly scrambled to his feet and respectfully said, "General Wang!"

The short-bearded man, addressed as General Wang, said, "I'm asking you a question!"

Song Chen looked on with a look of reminiscence, and then repeated what Cheng Ge had said yesterday evening, such as "Brother Cheng said he wanted to go out for a walk."

After listening, General Wang waved his hand and said, "Alright, I understand."

Immediately afterward, he added, "You were weak yesterday and were drugged. Rest for two days and come back to train in two days."

After saying this, General Wang turned and left, followed closely by a group of soldiers.

Song Chen glanced at the pillow that had already been turned over, grabbed the last soldier, and asked, "Brother, what happened?"

The soldier glanced at him and sneered, "Old Lin and the others look down on you and didn't take you with them, yet they still saved your life. If you want to see Old Lin, Chengzi, Yongzi, and the others, just go to the training ground and take a look."

School grounds.

The pale sunlight cast long, dark shadows as soldiers desperately climbed over bamboo spear pits. Suddenly, a scream rang out, followed by General Wang's cold, angry shouts: "If you can't even endure this little bit of training, then die here! Anyway, you'll die even more miserably in the north!"

Song Chen stopped in his tracks. He saw Brother Lin, Brother Cheng, and Brother Yong. They were dead.

They were lying on the ground.

Their skulls had been ripped open, but their brains were empty; all the brain matter and blood had been removed.

Their bodies were all ripped open, and what was most glaring was their leg bones, which were pierced through the skin and protruded outwards, while the marrow inside had been completely sucked out.

Their faces were contorted, their eyes sunken, and it was unknown what kind of inhuman torture they had endured before their deaths.

But were they killed by humans?

This is another world! What else is here?!

Song Chen's Adam's apple bobbed.

Going out is tantamount to death.

Training is death.

Training ended, and setting off north to fight against the foreign tribes was a death sentence.

If he hadn't been quick-witted and taken Cheng Ge's sleeping pills beforehand, and if his three roommates hadn't disappeared and died tragically while he knew about it but didn't report it, he probably would have been dead this morning too.

Camping may be unregulated, but when something like this happens, the rules come back to life in a flexible way.

We need to get out of here.

'Anywhere is fine.'

We need to get out of here first!

Two days passed quickly.

It's sunny.

Early in the morning, sharp-eyed soldiers spotted a luxurious carriage parked at the entrance of the military camp. General Wang hurriedly stepped forward to greet the distinguished guest who stepped out of the carriage, and then beat a large drum to gather the five thousand men of the battalion.

Without further ado, the nobleman raised his hand and pointed, opening the long box he carried. A scroll flew out from it, soaring into the air amidst the soldiers' exclamations, and then slowly unfurled in mid-air.

"what is that?"

"It looks like some kind of wild beast?"

"It's too high, I can't see clearly."

The soldiers whispered among themselves, gazing curiously at the high place. Some of the more astute and well-informed soldiers already had a guess in their minds: this was a distinguished person who had come to test their qualifications.

Based on the principle of not wasting good talents, even those who are cannon fodder should be given a chance.

And now, this is the opportunity.

The soldiers immediately focused their attention, some climbing trees and others standing on large rocks.

Soon, everyone realized what was going on and began vying for a higher position to try and get a better view. After all, the image was in the air and backlit, so what could you possibly see?
The distinguished person remained calm and composed, sitting to one side.

General Wang chuckled and pulled out tea from somewhere, brewed it himself, and then asked softly, "Sir, shall we still measure for three hours?"

The important person nodded.

General Wang lowered his voice and grumbled, "These peasants and downtrodden men, how could they possibly be qualified! They've only troubled you, sir, to wait here in vain. The filthy smell here is sure to stink your nose."

The important person smiled faintly.

General Wang's eyes darted around, and he turned to face the nobleman, speaking in a voice that could be heard by those around him: "Sir, my troops need to conduct emergency training in two hours. It's very important. How about we conduct the training for two hours? After all, it's for training the troops."

The distinguished guest picked up his teacup, took a sip, and then put it down.

General Wang gritted his teeth and said, "One hour."

The nobleman then spoke up, "Is it really that urgent?"

General Wang nodded emphatically and said, "Is it really that urgent?"

The nobleman said, "I will listen to the general. One hour."

General Wang hurriedly replied, "My lord, my name is Wang Xiongchuan."

The important person nodded, then whispered a few instructions.

General Wang stood up, took a few steps forward, and roared, "If you haven't figured it out in one hour, get back to training!"

Immediately afterwards, a soldier mustered up his courage and asked, "General Wang, how can we understand this painting if we can't even see it clearly?"

General Wang sneered, "That means you can't understand it."

After saying that, he roared, "Stop talking nonsense, start the timer."

An hour later.

The vast majority of soldiers left dejectedly, but a small number of soldiers came to try their luck, only to be quickly exposed and kicked back by General Wang one by one.

It's not surprising that a benefactor appeared.

The essence of painting lies not in its form, but in its meaning.

When a move or spell has intent, its power increases.

His painting depicts a scene of a giant bear hunting.

Hanging the painting in the air was not meant to be difficult.

It would be quite good if one could comprehend it in three hours, so it's naturally impossible to do so in just one hour now.

Of course, if someone does grasp even the slightest meaning, he can sense it and will give that person another chance.

But, how is it possible?

He's only here on a mission.

His time is very precious.

As he was thinking, he suddenly felt a strange sensation.

Suddenly turning his head, he saw a thin boy holding an iron rod, hurling it down at the test boulder. Faintly, the sound of a bear's roar could be heard as the iron rod was swung.

The force wasn't great, but when it struck the surface of the boulder, it reacted as if subjected to immense force, rapidly cracking and disintegrating.
The distinguished person was taken aback, then abruptly stood up and asked, "What's your name?"

The young man returned the greeting respectfully and said, forcing himself to speak, "Song Chen."

Beside him, General Wang's expression turned strange.

P.S.: During the new book period, there will be two updates every day, starting tomorrow at 5 PM.

(End of this chapter)