C2 Crossing into Qouprovia

Coughing violently, Lee Fei lay sprawled on the ground, spitting out mouthfuls of murky river water. He gasped for air, feeling nauseous and miserable. Once his head cleared, he noticed he was in a completely unfamiliar place, with a small river beside him. The water was exceptionally clear—unlike any river he had seen before.

Day had broken, with a red sun suspended on the horizon. The sky was a brilliant, cloudless blue. A chill breeze made Lee Fei shiver, prompting him to wrap his clothes tighter around him.

He examined the round rod in his hand. It was quite plain, about ten centimeters in length, with five dull, triangular white crystals set into its tip and a thumb-sized button in the middle. He had not inspected it closely in the darkness of night, but he recalled one crystal faintly glowing. Now that the glow had faded, Lee Fei suspected it might be connected to his mysterious journey.

The old man by the river came to mind, and Lee Fei was convinced he must have been an extraordinary figure—whether a god or a buddha, he couldn't say. But the items the man had given him were surely no ordinary trinkets.

With this thought, Lee Fei quickly retrieved the black book from his pocket. Fighting to calm his turbulent emotions, he opened it to the first page. Suddenly, the book transformed into a beam of black light that shot directly at his head. There was no time to evade.

The light merged with Lee Fei's skin upon contact. Clutching his head, he let out a scream and collapsed. Words and invaluable knowledge flooded his mind. The intense pain subsided as quickly as it had come, leaving him dizzy and bleeding from the nose.

Shaking his head, Lee Fei struggled to sit up, trying to assimilate the deluge of information that had just poured into his consciousness.

The black book, it turned out, was not a tangible item but a mental memory imprint. By opening the first page, Lee Fei had activated the memory brand, turning his brain into a receptor for someone else's memories, now embedded within his own mind.

In his memory, there was a hierarchy of enchanters: Magician Apprentice, Beginner Magician, Intermediate Magician, Advanced Magician, Great Magician, Magister, Great Magister, Holy Magister, and Magic Lord. The rest of his recollections were centered on the cultivation and use of Dark Magic, with hundreds of spells. However, the knowledge abruptly ended at the Great Magician level.

It was perhaps fortunate that the information was incomplete, as it nearly cost Lee Fei his life. Had the entirety of the Dark Magic book flooded his mind, he might not have died, but he would have likely been reduced to a simpleton.

Lee Fei took a deep breath, cleaning the blood from beneath his nose, then sprawled out by the river to wash his face. His reflection was pallid, giving off a somewhat sickly appearance.

After a brief glance, Lee Fei looked away and got to his feet. It was pointless to dwell on other matters now. Regardless of the allure of magic, this was not the time or place for research.

His first priority was to ascertain his location and find a place to rest. His energy was severely depleted, and his eyelids were fluttering—he could fall asleep instantly if he had a bed.

Unable to discern any direction, he was flanked by dense woods, with a thicket of thorns in between, suggesting the path was untraveled.

Dragging his weary body, Lee Fei picked up a round rod and began to clear a way through the underbrush as he moved forward.

The journey was anything but calm. The forest was alive with the chirping of birds and the indistinct calls of wild animals, their cries like harbingers of doom, relentlessly pricking at Lee Fei's nerves. He dreaded the possibility of encountering a wild wolf or some other dangerous creature.

After what felt like an eternity, with the sun nearing the horizon, Lee Fei stumbled upon a rough, man-made path. He continued on for a while longer until he could go no further and sat down to take in his surroundings.

While surveying the area, he suddenly heard footsteps nearby. Lee Fei turned to see a man dressed in ancient attire emerging from the woods, a hemp rope tied around his waist with a machete attached.

The man sported a full beard, making his age difficult to discern, but he was tall and robust. His attire suggested he was likely a woodcutter.

Lee Fei had anticipated finding himself in an unusual predicament, so the sight of the woodcutter didn't startle him overly much.

The woodcutter took notice of Lee Fei as well. Wary of his modern clothing, he gripped his ax handle tightly and edged closer.

Upon reaching him, the woodcutter inquired, "Who are you? And why are you here?"

"I am Lee Fei, from the Western Regions. I was just passing through and seem to have lost my way. I would appreciate any guidance you could offer." Lee Fei, not wanting to appear out of place, adopted the tone of a character from a historical TV drama.

The woodcutter, a man of the mountains, had never heard of the Western Regions. Yet, sensing that Lee Fei meant no harm, he informed him, "Young Master, you may not be aware, but you are within the boundaries of Wreah."

Lee Fei pressed on, "What year is it currently, and who reigns as emperor?"

The woodcutter felt a twinge of confusion but didn't dwell on it, responding, "We are in the second year of Zhenghe, and the revered ruler is the Taoist Lord Emperor."

Lee Fei mulled it over – the Zhenghe era, the Taoist Lord Emperor – could this be the era of Qouprovia?

This realization left Lee Fei momentarily disoriented. Exhausted in both body and spirit, he succumbed to darkness and fainted.

The woodcutter attempted to rouse him, to no avail.

Out of kindness and concern that Lee Fei might encounter danger if left alone in the wild, he hoisted Lee Fei onto his back.

As time swiftly moved on, dawn broke on the following day.

When Lee Fei awoke, he found himself in a modest hut with earthen walls. The wooden bed exuded an odd scent. He stretched languidly and climbed out of bed.

It was then that he noticed his clothing was dry, and the outfit he had been wearing was replaced with simple, coarse garments.

"Ah, the round rod," he remembered. "Without it, I might be stranded in ancient times indefinitely."

Lee Fei's heart skipped a beat with worry that the round rod might be lost in the wilderness, which would certainly be a hassle.

He swiftly looked around and, to his relief, spotted the round rod tucked away in the corner of the bed. He snatched it up and his anxiety eased.

Just then, the door swung open and the woodsman entered, carrying a bowl of thin porridge. He offered it with a courteous gesture, "You're awake, sir. The accommodations are modest, but I hope you won't mind."

Lee Fei dismissed the formality with a wave of his hand, "You're too kind. I'm quite content with a roof over my head. By the way, where are my clothes?"

"Your clothes are drying in the courtyard. They should be ready by now," the woodsman replied.

Lee Fei introduced himself, "I'm Lee Fei. Please, no need for formalities. You're older than I am, so feel free to call me Lee. And how should I address you?"

The woodsman pondered for a moment, then agreed with a nod, "My surname is Wu, and my given name is Qing."

Wu Qing then handed the porridge to Lee Fei, who eagerly accepted it with thanks. He noticed a few grains of millet and some scattered vegetable leaves in the porridge, likely wild greens.

Ravenous, Lee Fei didn't dwell on the taste and eagerly brought the bowl to his lips.

After finishing the porridge, he wiped his mouth and remarked, "That was truly satisfying."

Seeing this, Wu Qing smiled broadly, took the bowl, and said, "Hold on for just a moment, Lee. I'll fetch you a couple of steamed buns."

Lee Fei quickly interjected, "There's no need, the porridge was plenty."

But before he could finish, Wu Qing had already stepped out. Lee Fei inwardly sighed, marveling at the good fortune of encountering such a kindhearted soul so soon after his arrival. Indeed, such genuine simplicity was a rare find in the modern world.