Jia Ma Empire.
Wu Tan City, southern district, within a small courtyard.
Clang! Clang! Clang…
Beside the scorching furnace, a young man swung a hammer, striking a piece of red-hot iron. The ringing of metal and the roar of the furnace intertwined, and with every strike, a shower of sparks flew in all directions.
Though his forehead was beaded with sweat, his cheeks flushed from the intense heat, and his arms ached with a dull, throbbing pain, the young man did not stop. His eyes remained locked on the state of the iron.
Before long, under the youth's relentless hammering, the raw iron finally took the crude shape of a long blade.
Wasting no time, he used tongs to lift the blade embryo and carried it to a large barrel filled with oil. The moment the blade entered the liquid, a sharp sizzle filled the air.
He then withdrew the quenched blade and inspected its quality, nodding in satisfaction.
Placing the blade embryo against the courtyard wall, the youth wiped the sweat from his brow with his sleeve. He admired the row of weapon embryos leaning there and couldn't help but smile.
"Whew," he sighed, a puff of hot air escaping his lips. "That's today's quota finally done." Zhou Changqing glanced at the sky, noting it was late afternoon, and muttered to himself.
Looking down at his oil-stained and soot-covered clothes and his reddened hands, he shook his head and headed for the kitchen to heat some water.
After a thorough wash and a change into clean clothes, Zhou Changqing returned to the courtyard.
He sat at the stone table, gazing at the azure sky and sipping plum wine, savoring the rare moment of peace in his day. A quiet courtyard, a jug of plum wine, flowing white robes, and a sense of carefree leisure. It was hard to imagine that this youth, with the otherworldly good looks of a celestial being, was the same grimy blacksmith from just a moment ago.
Setting down his wine cup, Zhou Changqing's gaze grew distant as his thoughts drifted.
"If I've got the timing right, old Xiao should be about to take off, shouldn't he?"
A flicker of envy and helplessness crossed his face. Both were transmigrators, both reborn into the Dou Qi Continent, so how was it that old Xiao was born a young master of a clan while he was just a miserable orphan? If not for his kind adoptive parents, he probably would have kicked the bucket fifteen years ago.
But that wasn't all.
One's birth was not something one could choose, after all.
But why, when both of them were geniuses with souls far stronger than ordinary people, was old Xiao the lucky one to meet Yao Lao? Sure, he had his Dou Qi absorbed for three years, but in the end, didn't he make a triumphant return, putting all those who looked down on him in their place?
Meanwhile, he was stuck. He came from a common family and, without a cultivation method, was trapped at the very entry-level of the Dou Zhe realm with no way to advance. At this rate, with only his family's ancestral blacksmithing skills, who knew how long it would take to save enough money to buy a cultivation method.
It was a different fate for different folks.
He shouldn't have been re-reading Battle Through the Heavens while crossing the street in his past life. If he hadn't, he wouldn't have been struck by a bolt from the blue and sent to the Dou Qi Continent. Without that little mishap, he'd probably be kicking back in an air-conditioned room, scrolling on his phone, and enjoying the good life of watching beautiful women online.
He wouldn't be here, slaving away day after day, living a life of pure drudgery just for the cheapest, most basic cultivation method.
The thought of old Xiao's imminent rise—of all the face-slapping, the epic comebacks, and his journey to the peak of the world—sent a wave of frustration through Zhou Changqing.
Creak…
"Yo? Old Zhou, starting without me? And what's with the long face? Something wrong?"
Just as Zhou Changqing was lost in his own world, the sound of the gate opening pulled him from his thoughts, followed by a teasing voice from the entrance.
Lifting his head, Zhou Changqing saw a young man in black robes with red trim walking toward him with a smile.
"Get lost. I'm not in the mood for you," Zhou Changqing grumbled, a vein twitching on his forehead. "And you, you've got some timing. You always show up at this exact hour, don't you? Just here to freeload."
The young man paid his words no mind, sauntering over to the stone table and taking a seat. He expertly poured himself a cup of plum wine and took a satisfying sip.
The sweet and sour flavor, mixed with a subtle kick, exploded on his tongue. The fragrant aroma of the wine spread, and a wave of relaxation washed over him.
Smacking his lips, the youth closed his eyes to savor the aftertaste, then shot Zhou Changqing a smug, punchable grin. "I've gotta say, old Zhou, your family's plum wine is something else. Way better than the stuff they sell outside."
"I'm really craving it, my friend. How about you do me a favor and just give me the recipe? Then I wouldn't have to run over here every time I want a drink, and you'd get some peace and quiet, right?"
"Hey, you little punk, not just freeloading my drink but trying to take the recipe too?" Zhou Changqing was so exasperated he had to laugh. "Get out of here. Don't even think about it!" he spat.
"What, you think you can just ask for my ancestral recipe with a few empty words? You've got some nerve, Xiao Yan."
Xiao Yan didn't show the slightest hint of anger at being scolded. He shamelessly poured himself another cup of wine and chuckled. "You're the one who won't give it to me, so you can't blame me. I'll just have to keep coming back to drink for free."
"Fine! As long as you drop the idea of getting my recipe, you can come whenever you want. But next time, could you at least bring some snacks? You show up empty-handed every single time. I'm embarrassed for you."
"Heh, as long as I'm not embarrassed, someone else will be."
Faced with Xiao Yan's thick skin, Zhou Changqing could only sigh in defeat.
Truly worthy of the guy who snuck into a little girl's room at the age of four to "secretly touch" her body. His face was thicker than the city walls.
And so, the two of them drank and bickered, trading jabs and insults.
Before they knew it, dusk had fallen, and the sky began to dim.
"You know, old Zhou, sometimes I really envy you. A small courtyard, a jug of wine... living a simple, carefree life. It's like a dream."
Gazing at the setting sun, which had half-sunk below the horizon, the fading light cast a warm glow on Xiao Yan's handsome, boyish face, revealing his flushed cheeks and the hint of confusion in his eyes.
He took a sip of wine. "Not like me," he said in a low, self-deprecating tone. "Back at the clan, I have to face their ridicule from all sides, every single day."
"Tsk. When I was at my peak, they all bowed and scraped before me. Now that I've fallen, it's as if their past flattery has become their greatest shame."
"It's like they won't rest until they've ground me into the dust."
Seeing the sudden gloom that had fallen over Xiao Yan, Zhou Changqing remained silent, listening quietly as his friend vented.
As a friend of three years, Zhou Changqing desperately wanted to tell him: Buddy, you're about to soar!
Not only will your Dou Qi stop disappearing, but you're also about to gain a peak Dou Zun, the continent's "number one" alchemist, as your teacher. From then on, you'll blaze a trail of glory and become the first Dou Di in ten thousand years.
But he couldn't say a word.
First, he had no way to explain his ability to foretell the future. Second, Yao Lao was awake now; saying anything might arouse his suspicion, and that would be disastrous.
Speaking of which, when he and Xiao Yan had first met, the boy hadn't yet had his Dou Qi absorbed by Yao Lao.
At that time, Xiao Yan, only twelve years old, was full of spirit and boundless arrogance. He carried himself as if he were God's gift to the world. A far cry from the mature, resilient, and composed young man he was today.
Their meeting had been quite a coincidence.
At the age of twelve, Zhou Changqing had been out buying supplies at the nearby Xiao Clan marketplace when he was targeted by a pickpocket. The thief was a seasoned professional, with such deft skill that he managed to lift Zhou Changqing's coin purse without even making contact. Although Zhou Changqing's spiritual perception was much stronger than an ordinary person's, the marketplace was crowded, and the pickpocket seemed to have a naturally weak presence, so he hadn't noticed a thing.
But the entire act happened to be witnessed by Xiao Yan, who was inspecting the marketplace for the first time.
Though arrogant, the Xiao Yan of that time still held onto the morals he'd developed in his past life. Finding the act intolerable, he ordered his attendants to seize the pickpocket, give him a sound beating, and return the coin purse to Zhou Changqing.
Zhou Changqing was naturally effusive with his thanks. If not for Xiao Yan, he would have been starving for the next half a month.
And just like that, Zhou Changqing's path crossed with the protagonist of the Battle Through the Heavens world.
Later, thanks to Zhou Changqing's "gratitude banquet," the two became friends.
As they were both modern people from Earth, their values were more or less the same, and they got along very well. Although Xiao Yan didn't know Zhou Changqing was also a transmigrator, it didn't stop him from considering the blacksmith a true friend.
When Xiao Yan later fell from grace, Zhou Changqing never showed the slightest hint of disdain. On the contrary, he continued to welcome him over for drinks as he always had. This loyalty moved Xiao Yan deeply, and he came to regard Zhou Changqing as one of his only two true friends.