Primordial Era: I've become a cheat code by taking Yang Jian as my disciple?

The brother and sister walked on the street for most of the hour, with Zhong Lingyun remaining silent the entire time.

He was observing.

The observation is not of the Yan Kingdom, but of Yang Jian!

Yang Jian walked among the crowd, maintaining a consistent stride and even breathing rate, seemingly strolling leisurely. However, Zhong Lingyun noticed that his footsteps landed entirely in the gaps between people, never making physical contact with anyone.

This isn't politeness, it's wariness!

His spatial awareness, honed from fighting demonic beasts for three years, means that his body will automatically adjust its position whenever anything gets within an arm's length of him.

In the Hundred Thousand Mountains, this is called the survival instinct.

In the human world, this is called being out of place.

"There's an inn here, let's stay here and talk later," Zhong Lingyun said.

Yang Jian looked around and found an inn that looked fairly clean.

The shopkeeper was a plump woman in her forties, who was squatting at the door scolding a twelve or thirteen-year-old waiter.

"You useless piece of trash! I told you to go to East Street to buy two catties of wine, and what did you do? You ran around all morning and even lost the wine jug! That jug cost me eight copper coins! What are you planning to use to pay for it? Your mouth that you use to eat?"

The young man kept his head down, silent, his shoulders hunched, as if he wanted to shrink into a crack in the ground.

"Go! Kneel in the backyard and you're not eating dinner!"

The young waiter obediently turned and walked towards the backyard. As he passed Yang Jian and his sister, he glanced up at them. His large eyes held no resentment, only a kind of indifference that came from being used to being scolded.

Yang Chan wrinkled her nose and tugged at Yang Jian's sleeve.

Yang Jian remained silent and walked to the counter.

"Check-in. Two rooms."

The plump woman put away her cursing expression and put on a smile. "Where do you come from, sir? We have two superior rooms, thirty coins a night each. How many days will you stay?"

"Stay for ten days first."

Yang Jian reached into his pocket—he had no money on him.

The atmosphere became somewhat awkward for a moment.

"...Chan'er."

Yang Chan sighed, then took out a slightly inferior pill from the bag and placed it on the counter.

"How much money can this be worth?"

The plump woman's smile froze as she looked at the faintly glowing dumpling.

"This is an inn, not a pawnshop."

Zhong Lingyun spoke up at the opportune moment: "Tell her to take it to the old doctor surnamed Xu at the pharmacy on the street; it's worth ten taels of silver. Tell her to keep it for now and exchange it for silver with Old Doctor Xu later before settling the bill."

Yang Jian relayed these words, adding a bit more confidence to his statement.

The plump woman was skeptical, but the name "Doctor Xu" clearly carried some weight in the Yan Kingdom.

She picked up the pill and examined it for a long time before finally nodding reluctantly.

"Okay, stay here for now. If the medicine isn't expensive, you'll have to pay the rent!"

"You won't be shortchanged."

Yang Jian led Yang Chan up to the second floor.

Pushing open the door, the room was simply furnished—a wooden bed, a long table, and an oil lamp.

There were cobwebs in the corner, and the bedding smelled damp.

Yang Chan lifted the blankets and shook them, revealing three cockroaches.

"..."

"It's better than a cave," Yang Jian said.

"At least there are no bugs in the cave!"

Despite her complaints, Yang Chan was quick and efficient, tidying up the bed in no time and opening the window to let in some fresh air.

Yang Jian stood by the window, looking down at the streets and alleys of the Yan Kingdom.

As dusk falls, wisps of smoke rise from the chimneys of every household.

There were sounds of women calling children home for dinner, the clanging of the blacksmith's hammer for the last few strikes, and the sounds of drinking games coming from the tavern.

These sounds were mingled together, muddy, noisy, and chaotic.

But it's very warm.

Yang Jian loosened his grip on the window frame.

Zhong Lingyun whispered a sentence in his mind.

"Did you hear that?"

"Um."

"These are the things you will have to protect from now on. Revenge must be taken, but you cannot forget these things after you've avenged yourself."

Yang Jian did not answer.

Outside the window, the twilight bathed the low city walls of the Yan Kingdom in an orange-red hue.

A soldier on the city wall was yawning as he changed shifts.

In the distant fields, the last farmer returning home led his ox and disappeared at the end of the field ridge.

Yang Jian stood there for a long time.

He didn't turn around and close the window until Yang Chan called him downstairs to eat.

The indentation made by five fingers pinching the window frame is clearly visible.

……

Life in Yan Kingdom was more difficult than Yang Jian had anticipated.

It wasn't a physical hardship—after three years in the Ten Thousand Mountains, his physical body had been tempered to the level of a late-stage Void Returning Immortal, so the wind and sun in the Yan Kingdom were nothing more than a tickle.

The hardest part is the mental strain.

On the first morning, Yang Jian was awakened by the sound of hammering from the blacksmith's shop next door.

The moment he rolled over and stood up, his right fist was already clenched. The Crimson Divine Power traveled halfway through his meridians before he forcibly pulled it back.

One blow.

With just one loud bang, he almost blasted a hole through the wall of the inn.

Yang Jian sat on the edge of the bed, looking at his clenched fist with veins bulging, and remained silent for a long time.

The next day, he began to consciously control the scope of his perception.

In the Hundred Thousand Mountains, his divine sense was always extended to a radius of three miles—that was the bottom line for survival.

But in the Kingdom of Yan, the area within three miles was teeming with people. The presence of thousands of living creatures, including chickens, ducks, cattle, and sheep, filled the air, making his temples throb with noise.

He gathered his divine sense to a depth of three zhang.

Within a three-zhang radius, there were only himself and Yang Chan from the next room.

enough.

On the third day, Yang Jian went out and bought a pot of wine.

It wasn't that I wanted to drink; I wanted to see if I could sit in a tavern for a full hour.

As a result, I sat there for half an hour.

A drunkard at the next table slammed his fist on the table and cursed, the sound hitting Yang Jian right on the back of the neck.

His third eye mark jumped three times.

Yang Jian put down his wine cup, paid the bill, and left.

He was still clutching a piece of broken porcelain in his hand when he left—the wine glass he had crushed.

"Try again on the fourth day."

Zhong Lingyun said.

"Um."

On the fourth day, Yang Jian sat in the tavern for a quarter of an hour.

The fifth day, half an hour.

The seventh day, one hour.

Progress has been slow, but the direction has been right.

Zhong Lingyun did not urge him.

The rough edges on a blade aren't sharpened in a day, and smoothing them out can't be done overnight either.

……

Yang Chan adapted faster than Yang Jian.

To be precise, she was like a fish thrown into the water—it thrashed around a couple of times before finding its way.

On the third day after arriving in Yan Kingdom, Yang Chan went to Old Man Xu's pharmacy for the second time.

This time she didn't bring any pills to exchange for anything; she was just visiting someone's place.

She chewed up that century-old He Shou Wu last time and threw it into the medicine furnace, leaving not even a trace. Remembering what Old Man Xu said about "coming and sitting down when you have time", she shamelessly came over.

The pharmacy was filled with the bitter smell of herbs—much coarser than the wild medicinal herbs from the Ten Thousand Mountains, but with an added touch of the smoky aroma of herbs that had been repeatedly turned, sorted, and chopped by hand.

The middle-aged shopkeeper's face twitched when he saw Yang Chan enter.

After being scolded by his own ancestors last time, he changed his attitude towards the disheveled little girl—albeit reluctantly.

"Not again?"

The shopkeeper wiped the counter without lifting his eyelids. "The old man is resting in the back; he's not seeing any customers today."

"I'm not a guest! I'm here to chat with Grandpa Xu!" Yang Chan leaned over the counter and peered into the back room.

"Chatting?" The shopkeeper finally raised his eyelids, his expression as if he had swallowed a live fly. "Young lady, this old man has been practicing medicine for sixty years. Do you think this is the doorstep of some neighborhood auntie, where you can just come and go as you please?"

"Let her in."

The curtain in the back room didn't move, but the sound was crystal clear!