Chapter One: An Ordinary Man Among the Common Folk

Year Eight of Wanlong, Qingzhou Prefecture.

Five Lakes and Four Seas Inn.

The inn bustled with a constant stream of guests, the air thick with lively chatter. Amid the raucous main hall, a young man wove nimbly between the tables, his face alight with a warm, genial smile.

“Sir, your complexion is radiant, your brow gleams with auspicious light, and a purple aura crowns your forehead—surely a sign of great fortune! Allow me to serve your dish and bask in your good luck,” the young man said as he placed a dish before a burly, bald man with a broad face and prominent ears.

“You’re quite the clever one—here’s a tip!” The bald man laughed heartily, pulling several copper coins from his chest and slapping them onto the table. “If my good luck holds, I’ll reward you again!”

“Thank you, sir. May your fortune flourish unceasingly,” the young man replied, bowing as he pocketed the coins, before moving on to greet the other patrons.

“Madam, your skin is so well cared for—if I didn’t know better, I’d mistake you for a young maiden not yet betrothed!”

“Young Master Li, you’ve arrived. Congratulations on welcoming a proper concubine into your home—may your house thrive like orchids and flourish like blooming flowers…”

By the time he’d made the rounds, his pockets were heavy with the silver and copper given in appreciation. He retreated to the counter for a sip of water and a brief respite.

“Brother Chen, your tips in a single day rival my salary for a month,” the accountant remarked enviously.

“It’s thanks to all of you—if you weren’t keeping things running, I’d never manage the hall, let alone earn any tips,” Chen Tiansheng replied sincerely, pressing a few coins into his colleague’s hand. The accountant accepted them with a satisfied nod.

With everyone attended to, Chen Tiansheng could finally rest for a moment. As a hall runner, moments of leisure were rare; one had to seize every chance to catch their breath, or risk collapsing from exhaustion.

“Young one, made quite a haul in tips again, I see? Bring me three catties of prime beef, and a jug of thirty-year Maiden’s Farewell wine!”

Not long after, a middle-aged man kicked at the counter, his narrow eyes sweeping Chen Tiansheng’s bulging money pouch. His voice, as harsh as a drake’s, jolted Chen from his reverie. Looking up, he recognized the knife-bearing guest who had been a frequent presence of late. The man’s weapon, swathed in black cloth, was as broad as half a door; the exposed hilt, carved with entwined dragons and phoenixes, bore deep, time-worn notches that hinted at a storied past.

With only a quick glance, Chen Tiansheng snapped back to attention, slinging his cleaning rag over his shoulder with practiced ease. Rubbing his hands together, he bowed slightly. “Master Fang, you jest—my monthly tips can’t compare to a single day’s earnings for someone of your stature. I’ve reserved you the eastern window seat, and just for you, the boss procured an unbred heifer, freshly dressed. Shall I bring you your usual three side dishes as well?”

This man was Fang Chenghu, just into his forties. Two years prior, he’d been a mere muleteer for a caravan, but after passing some test, he’d become a martial enforcer. Lately, he’d gained quite a reputation, single-handedly wiping out a bandit den of dozens. Rumor had it he’d encountered some strange fortune and cultivated sinister arts; his eating and drinking now had to be tied to the untouched of the opposite sex—even animals were not exempt. It was whispered he’d secretly bought women to take their innocence.

“Excellent.”

Pleased by the deference, Fang Chenghu nodded and cast a worldly gaze at the young man before him. The boy looked thirteen or fourteen, nearly six feet tall but thin as a reed, his complexion sallow but his features refined. Beneath his sword-like brows, his eyes were deep and spirited—a rare beauty for one born to the common streets.

So young, yet as adept at flattery as any old hand—perhaps he was a natural sycophant.

“A handsome face and a pliant spine—born to be a lackey,” Fang Chenghu mocked openly, tossing three copper coins as a tip. His tone turned cold. “Bring me the usual, and the beef must be unseasoned—boiled simply to a blush and scored. Overcook it by a minute, and I’ll stuff the cow’s undigested grass down your throat myself!”

“What’s wrong with being a lackey? Aren’t we all slaves to life in our own way?” interjected a woman seated nearby. “A servant well-placed can rise above all but one. Wouldn’t you agree, Little Chen?”

The woman was tall and powerfully built, a jagged scar marring her right cheek. She was Wind Sister Si, a frequent guest and a noted martial figure in Qingzhou. Fierce by nature, even Fang Chenghu gave her a wide berth. She had never tipped before, but Chen Tiansheng’s exceptional service had made her relent.

“Servant or not, as long as I can tend to you distinguished guests, I am content,” Chen Tiansheng replied quickly, seeing Fang’s temper flare.

“Well said—there’s a tip for you!” Wind Sister Si downed a bowl of strong liquor, tossing him a silver coin.

One silver coin equaled a hundred copper—a generous tip, enough for several days’ earnings.

“Wind Sister Si, perhaps you’ve taken a shine to this lad’s looks,” Fang Chenghu said, his anger fading to banter.

“Good looks are a talent in their own right,” she retorted, unruffled.

“Young lad, fortune smiles on you—this woman is something else.” Fang Chenghu clapped Chen Tiansheng on the shoulder with a knowing grin before sitting down, roaring with laughter.

Chen Tiansheng grinned stupidly, but inwardly he was cursing Fang Chenghu’s ancestors to the eighteenth generation. His expression betrayed nothing of his true feelings.

This was a world where strength was all that mattered, where people were divided into strict hierarchies, and menial workers were the lowest of the low. To survive, one had to learn to ingratiate oneself.

A domineering guest like Fang Chenghu couldn’t be approached with the same flattery as regular patrons—overdoing it could backfire. It wasn’t enough to simply curry favor; one had to be shrewd and discerning.

Having lived two lives, Chen Tiansheng was more perceptive than his peers.

That’s right—he was a transmigrator.

He had crossed over into the body of someone with the same name and face as himself.

He’d once dreamed, as transmigrators do, that at his six-year-old aptitude test he’d prove himself a prodigy, dazzling the world with his brilliance.

But reality was a disappointment.

He had no talent for cultivation, no family backing—just an ordinary mortal.

To survive, he had to join the ranks of the city’s laborers, becoming the lowest rung of the working class.

Survival was already a struggle.

How could he dream of immortality?

If nothing else, perhaps a quiet life with his beautiful sister-in-law would be enough.

Still, it was a pity to come to this world only to eke out an existence as a commoner, his dreams of cultivation left unfulfilled.

At least, until two years ago, when his Golden Patron finally arrived!

After placing the orders with the kitchen, Chen Tiansheng ran into the innkeeper, Li Dongshan, in the courtyard. The man greeted him with a broad smile and handed over a coarse cloth purse. “Little Chen, here’s your wages for last month.”

“Sir, I can’t accept this. You gave me this job, that’s more than enough—I wouldn’t dare ask for wages.” Chen Tiansheng hesitated, then quickly waved his hands in refusal. He’d worked here over two years, and ever since he’d started earning tips, the stingy innkeeper hadn’t paid him a wage in over a year. Was the sun rising in the west today?

“Little Chen, you’re so sensible. You’re our inn’s most handsome and courteous attendant—the guests all praise you highly.” Li Dongshan patted his shoulder, glancing around before lowering his voice. “In a few days, some important people are coming for an inspection. I want you to receive them. Do well, and I’ll reward you handsomely! Take the money—don’t be shy!”

As expected, unsolicited kindness comes with strings attached.

“Rest assured, sir, I will do my utmost not to let you down!” Chen Tiansheng replied earnestly. As he accepted the purse, his hand, swift as a cloud, slipped around Li Dongshan’s waist.

Li Dongshan nodded in satisfaction, patted him once more, and walked off.

“Take care, sir,” Chen Tiansheng called after him.

Once the innkeeper was gone, Chen Tiansheng opened his right hand. Aside from the purse, there was a delicate jade pendant.

He had lifted it from Li Dongshan’s belt while taking the purse.

“After a year of unpaid wages, this jade pendant will do nicely as compensation,” he chuckled, tucking both items away.

As a menial worker, he couldn’t afford to offend the boss—unless the boss needed something from him. He was not one to let others take advantage; if someone owed him, he would always find a way to collect.

Recently, he had mastered Empty-Handed Cloud, more than enough to deal with an ordinary man like Li Dongshan. The miser hadn’t come looking for trouble—he had sought him out instead.

At that moment, a mechanical, emotionless voice echoed in his mind.

“Ghostly Eloquence: Proficiency 10,000/10,000, Entry achieved.”

“Trait: Master of Deceit, a liar of supernatural skill.”

“Advancement: 0/100,000, requires entering the second floor of the Marketplace Tower.”

A thrill ran through Chen Tiansheng.

It was done!

His consciousness sank, and he found himself in a grand palace. Before him, on a vast white screen, the entry for “Ghostly Eloquence” shimmered with golden light—proof he had mastered the technique.

He shrugged at the string of zeros in the advancement bar. Such proficiency was all too familiar; techniques like Bone Reading, Thousand Faces, Iron Chest Drumming, and Empty-Handed Cloud had all been ground to mastery through sheer diligence.

He had taken the job as a hall runner specifically to hone his Ghostly Eloquence, and at long last, he had succeeded.

This was his golden patron.

His leverage against immortals.

Each floor of the Marketplace Tower granted him a new folk skill—master one, and he could proceed to the next, learning ever greater arts.

No barriers—only hard work.

Now, only Command of the Chamber remained. With a little more experience—perhaps a few more months of washing clothes or other tasks at the Red Pavilion—he would be ready to ascend.

To climb the tower—who knew what rewards awaited?

No sense in idle speculation. He would know once he reached the top.

Collecting his thoughts, Chen Tiansheng took up a broom and stepped outside the inn to sweep the dust from the street.

“Brother Sheng, something terrible has happened—Madam Gu has been abducted by that lecherous Second Master Zhang!”

He had barely reached the doorway when a stout, panting man rushed up, sweat streaming down his face. Grabbing Chen Tiansheng’s arm, he tried to drag him toward the city gates.

A chill shot through Chen Tiansheng’s heart, quickly igniting into fury.

His beloved sister-in-law had been taken by force!