When the dragon kiln outside the town of the Jeweled Pearl Paradise went out, Master Yao the potter died not long afterward.
In his lifetime, he had many apprentices, though not many whose names he could remember. His favorite was Liu Xianyang, his least favorite was Chen Ping'an, and Wang Jing fell somewhere in the middle—not the best, but better than the worst.
Wang Jing’s origins were deeply mysterious. His dwelling was a crude thatched hut he had built himself not far from the dragon kiln. Abandoned by his parents at birth, he had found meaning in life only after becoming Master Yao's apprentice.
Before long, heavy snow sealed the mountains, and he chose to spend his days guarding the closed dragon kiln in his own way, facing his death with calm acceptance...
Suddenly, a bolt of jagged lightning struck straight down. The thatched hut was hit, sending a chaotic flurry of straw, ashes, embers, and melted snow flying in all directions amid a scene of utter devastation.
A figure struggled to crawl out from the splinters of wood. Scorched black from head to toe, with his hair standing rigidly on end and black smoke venting from his mouth, he broke into a violent fit of coughing. It was none other than Wang Jing—he had come back to life!
Bitter winter winds assaulted him from all sides. Shivering and crossing his arms, the resurrected Wang Jing stomped his feet and cursed aloud:
"You dragged me across time and space, and my very first setup is wilderness survival?! You couldn't even assign me a dog!"
Cursing aside, the instinct for survival drove the transmigrated Wang Jing to quickly gather scraps of wood and straw, ignite them with fire, and dash back into the collapsed ruins of the house. He grabbed whatever he could use to keep warm—a thin quilt that hadn't burned entirely, tattered clothing, and anything else within reach.
Resembling a vagrant, the transmigrated Wang Jing sat beside the bonfire. The snow water in the clay pot suspended over the rack had begun to boil, bubbling vigorously and hissing as drops splashed into the flames.
After gulping down a mouthful of hot tea, the transmigrated Wang Jing breathed out a plume of steam and muttered, "When in doubt, drink hot water first."
The transmigrated Wang Jing began sifting through the memories in his mind, and instantly flew into a rage. "What the hell! Didn't they say I was coming to the Snow Sword Stride world? This is the Sword Coming world?!"
"Ding! This *is* the Snow Sword Stride world. Look at all the snow around you!"
Wang Jing was fit to be tied. "Blade Dance, Blade Dance! It's not just weather snowing! Hurry up and get me out of here, this isn't where I want to be!"
The system replied: "The Sword Coming world quests have already been generated. Only by completing the ultimate quest can you unlock the Snow Sword Stride missions."
"You... motherf—!"
The system warned: "Please watch your language, or I'll strike you down with another bolt of heavenly lightning and leave not even a bone behind!"
Faced with this rebellious and crude system, the transmigrated Wang Jing drooped his head. "I haven't really read *Sword Coming*... but I suppose I have no choice left but to accept my fate!"
"Ding! Transmigrator Wang Jing, your introductory quest is now being issued: find the protagonist of *Sword Coming*, Chen Ping'an. Complete this to unlock the abridged version of the Mountain-Shaking Fist manual and become a First Realm Martial Artist!"
Crouching by the fire, Wang Jing combined his two sets of memories and pondered with shifting eyes: "Chen Ping'an is an orphaned youth, enduring hardship without complaint, possessing an indomitable spirit, and treating others with generosity..."
The path to the town was not difficult to find; the original Wang Jing of this realm had traveled it a few times. The real difficulty lay in the heavy snow blocking the mountains, and the town being over thirty miles away. Whether he could make it out was anyone's guess, and even if he took hidden trails, an avalanche would spell certain death. Yet if he didn't go, staying here meant freezing and starving to death.
He hardened his resolve. "Set out, find Chen Ping'an!"
For two whole days and nights, by sheer luck and without mishap, Wang Jing reached the east gate of the town. At that moment, Chen Ping'an was arguing with the gatekeeper Zheng Dafeng, apparently over money.
Unable to hold on a moment longer, Wang Jing collapsed heavily to the ground. Seeing the commotion, Chen Ping'an sprinted over.
When he realized it was his former fellow potter Wang Jing, he turned pale with shock. "Zheng Dafeng, I don't want the money anymore, come help me save him!"
With his bushy beard and heavy, stout build, Zheng Dafeng touched his crotch and sneered disdainfully, "Chen Ping'an, do you know why you're a pauper?! Because you're an absolute, incurable bleeding heart!"
Seeing that Zheng Dafeng remained indifferent, Chen Ping'an hoisted Wang Jing onto his back and hurried away with steady, swift strides.
When Wang Jing woke up, he found himself lying on a crude wooden bed.
The drafty shack whistled with the north wind. Consisting of just two rooms without partitions, everything was visible at a glance. A mottled table against the wall served as the main hall, holding a pair of memorial tablets. Combining these with his memories, Wang Jing knew those belonged to Chen Ping'an's deceased parents.
Chen Ping'an pushed the door open, arms laden with clothes. Seeing that Wang Jing had woken up, he said happily, "You're awake, Wang Jing."
Handing the garments to Wang Jing, he added, "These are Liu Xianyang's old clothes. Your builds are similar, so they should fit."
A wave of emotion stirred in Wang Jing as he looked closely at the emaciated youth. The boy's face was chapped, and long cracks split the corners of his mouth, oozing fresh blood.
"Staring for what? Think they're too old?"
Hastily taking the clothes, Wang Jing put them on. Though worn and covered in patches, they fit him remarkably well—far better than his previous outfit of flying rags that made him look like a vagrant.
"Ding! Quest completed. Issuing the abridged Mountain-Shaking Fist manual and unlocking the First Realm of Martial Arts, the Mud Embryo Stage."
Instantly, Wang Jing's body convulsed as if struck by lightning, and his entire skeleton cracked and popped loudly.
Chen Ping'an watched in a daze, asking with concern, "Wang Jing, what's wrong with you?!"
The commotion ceased, and Wang Jing stretched lazily, shouting, "Awesome!"
Uncomprehending, Chen Ping'an received a bright smile from Wang Jing, who deeply felt the changes in his body—even the frostbite on his arms and legs was slowly healing.
"Even if this system is a bit aggressive, it actually delivers when you finish a quest."
"Ding! Introductory quest: teach Chen Ping'an how to practice the Mountain-Shaking Fist!"
Wang Jing wanted to ask about the reward, but his body moved as if beyond his control, leaping outward.
In the courtyard, he executed a set of the Mountain-Shaking Fist. The fist winds were fierce and powerful, whistling like a tiger, while his stance remained rock-solid. Every punch and kick carried the demeanor of a true master.
Chen Ping'an clapped in admiration, crying out in pleasant surprise, "Wang Jing, when did you learn boxing? Can you teach me?"
Composing himself, Wang Jing retracted his fists and said firmly, "Of course I can!"
Overjoyed, Chen Ping'an was interrupted by a sarcastic, strange voice ringing out: "Well, well! Chen Ping'an has a poor relative now? That boxing just now wasn't bad—looked just like a monkey dancing around. Splendid, simply splendid! Here's a reward!"
At the sound, Wang Jing looked over the low, waist-high mud-brick wall to see a young gentleman dressed in brocade robes and holding a folded fan.
The youth flicked his wrist, tossing a copper coin. Wang Jing made no move to catch it; the coin struck his shoulder and dropped onto the patch of dirt where residual snow still lingered.
With a dark expression, Chen Ping'an pulled Wang Jing toward the house, clearly harboring deep resentment toward this wealthy neighbor.
Wang Jing felt thoroughly displeased as well, but Chen Ping'an possessed considerable strength and had already pulled him inside.
Closing the door, Chen Ping'an said, "Brother Wang, please excuse that. My neighbor is a scholar-to-be, and his tongue is never kind."
"Ping'an, that's not just an unkind tongue! That's blatant humiliation!"
"It's nothing. The town isn't big, and neighbors are bound to run into each other all the time. I'm used to it by now."
Puzzled, Wang Jing asked, "Aren't you angry?"
"I get a little mad sometimes, but it's not out of pure spite. It passes in a moment, and then it's fine..."
Understanding dawned on Wang Jing: kindness really did invite abuse here. "You wait here, Ping'an. I'm going to go beat up that wretched neighbor and vent your anger for you! And while I'm at it, I'll loot some things from his house to help you out!"