This Martial Saint is Too Cautious
Chapter 1: There Is a Tree in My Mind

Chapter 1: Chapter 1: There Is a Tree in My Mind

"There are two trees in my mind. One is green, and the other is gray."

Lin Yan sat on the steps under the eaves, gazing at the old tree in the courtyard while also sensing the strange, bizarre tree deep within his mind.

His expression was a bit dazed.

The bizarre tree in his mind was formed by two intertwined trees, one green and one gray.

One was a tender green, full of life; the other was a decaying gray, like deadwood.

The only thing they had in common was that neither the green branches nor the gray ones had any leaves.

They were completely bare and no more than three inches tall.

’Did I transmigrate as Brother Xun?’

Lin Yan sighed softly. After confirming he had transmigrated, a piece of information about this tree appeared in his mind.

The Martial Arts Tree. As the name implied, it was related to Martial Arts.

It was a very brief piece of information.

Lin Yan accepted the appearance of the Martial Arts Tree in his mind quite calmly. In this day and age, transmigrating without a cheat system was a waste of a transmigration.

’A small boost is a golden finger; a big one is a full-blown hack.’

SPLAT!

Bird droppings landed on his face, pulling Lin Yan back from his reverie.

His gaze swept over the surrounding earthen courtyard walls, his eyes filled with curiosity.

’Where in the world did that truck send me?’

Memories swirled in his mind, both from his thirty-plus years in his past life and from the original owner of this body.

In his past life, he was born in a small town, went to school, found a job, and slaved away like a beast of burden at a large corporation.

It was a life where he could see the end from the beginning.

He wanted to change, but at thirty-five, he was told it was too late for whatever he wanted to do.

So when he ignored the pleas of all his friends and family, quit his job, and set off to tour the great landscapes of his homeland on a Zhangxue motorcycle, he was hit by an out-of-control Dayun truck.

The moment the truck hit him, Lin Yan’s first thought wasn’t, ’My life is over,’ but, ’This time, no one will say it’s too late.’

At thirty-five, he was too old for everything, but when it came to dying, he was said to have gone too soon.

...

The memories of the body’s original owner:

Deng State Prefecture, Guangping County.

Eighteen years old, parents both dead, living with his aunt and younger cousin.

...

All the memories didn’t just flash before his eyes like a fleeting slideshow; they were instantly poured into his mind as if by an epiphany.

Now, Lin Yan could be sure: the truck had sent him to a Martial Arts World.

’The original owner of this body... had it rough.’

He had never even met his grandparents before they passed away. At seven, his parents died in an accident during a flash flood. After that, he lived with his uncle and aunt. At twelve, his uncle was conscripted for corvée labor and was never heard from again.

’This wasn’t some cynical joke about parents dying to grant him ultimate power.’

Recalling the original owner’s experiences, a faint sadness welled up inside Lin Yan.

He didn’t know if it was because he had taken over the body, or if he was being influenced by the depths of the original soul.

Lin Yan didn’t want to dwell on it.

’Since I’m here, I’ll make the best of it.’

From this moment on, he was the Lin Yan of this world.

"Young Brother Lin, how are you feeling?"

The courtyard gate was pushed open, interrupting Lin Yan’s thoughts. A lean man walked in, chuckling.

"Great."

Lin Yan snapped out of his daze, stood up from the steps, and said excitedly, "Brother Zhang, after taking that dose of medicine just now, I feel much warmer all over. Does this mean I’ll be able to cultivate that warm current soon?"

"It seems Young Brother Lin has great talent for Martial Arts. A normal person would need to take at least ten doses to feel anything, but it worked for you after just one! At this rate, you’ll be able to practice Martial Arts after just three consecutive months of taking it."

Zhang Dahai smiled until his eyes narrowed. Hearing this, Lin Yan also broke into a smug grin. "When I can practice Martial Arts, I’ll definitely repay Brother Zhang twofold—oh, no... tenfold!"

"Young Brother Lin, no need to be so polite. I’m only willing to help because I feel a connection with you. But you can’t tell anyone about this medicine. The formula is exclusive to the Li Family. If it leaks, both of us will be in deep trouble."

"Don’t worry, Brother Zhang. You’ve been so good to me, I’ll never tell a soul."

Lin Yan patted his chest in assurance, then added, "I’ll head back for now, then. I’ll come again another day."

Zhang Dahai saw Lin Yan to the main gate, and the two exchanged a few more words of feigned mutual admiration.

"Don’t bother seeing me out, Brother Zhang."

"Take care, Young Brother Lin."

SLAM!

The courtyard gate slammed shut.

"Idiot!"

"Dumbass!"

A low sneer from inside the gate, a silent curse from outside, both at the same instant.

Zhang Dahai looked at the medicine pot in the courtyard, still containing dregs, a sneer on his face. ’I only added so much ginger powder because I was afraid you wouldn’t feel the heat. It’s a good thing it didn’t kill you, otherwise my plans would have been ruined.’

’I’ve been set up.’

In the alley, the smile was gone from Lin Yan’s face. With his life experience, he could tell at a glance that the original owner of his body was the target of a "pig-butchering" scam by Zhang Dahai.

This was a world where Martial Artists were revered, and all privileges of the elite classes were open only to them.

Most adults from ordinary families had already accepted their fate, but ambitious youths still harbored some fantasies.

The body’s original owner worked as a Clerk in a shop in the county town. Two days ago, he passed a teahouse where someone at the door was shouting that a Martial Artist was inside, lecturing on Martial Arts. Anyone could go in to listen and even get free tea.

Out of curiosity, the boy went in and, as luck would have it, ended up at the same table as Zhang Dahai. The young man, unaware of the dangers of the world, was manipulated by Zhang Dahai’s words into revealing every detail about his family situation.

Unexpectedly, after the lecture, Zhang Dahai took him to meet the Martial Artist privately. The Martial Artist felt the boy’s Root Bone and proclaimed that he had the aptitude for Martial Arts. He said his body was just a bit weak at the moment, and as long as he properly conditioned it, he could take him as a disciple and personally teach him Martial Arts.

The rest of the story was cliché. Zhang Dahai told him many legendary tales of Martial Arts Powerhouses who came from humble beginnings but, with the help of a benefactor, eventually achieved greatness in Martial Arts.

And Zhang Dahai was willing to be his benefactor.

He had an exclusive medicinal formula from the great Li Family in the city that could condition the body.

One dose of medicine, two hundred wen.

If the boy had no money, it was no problem; he could just sign a loan contract.

For a naive young man who had just received a personal promise from a Martial Artist, how could he possibly care about the price of the medicine? His mind was filled with visions of the glorious life he would lead as a Martial Artist.

’At that point, what would a little money like this matter?’

’The house my parents left behind was rented out by Aunt for two taels of silver a year. If sold, it would be worth about twenty taels. Zhang Dahai’s target is the house my parents left me.’

’If I had exposed him and confronted him on the spot, I’m afraid he would have resorted to other, more vicious schemes. Zhang Dahai and that "Martial Artist" are clearly a gang. A gang like that won’t stop until they get what they want. A direct confrontation right then wouldn’t have been wise.’

Lin Yan didn’t hurry home. Instead, he slowed his pace, pondering a counter-strategy while observing his surroundings.

The road underfoot was made of rammed yellow earth, rendered uneven by countless feet, animal hooves, and the occasional cart wheel.

The road was lined with tightly packed adobe houses. Most of their walls were mottled, revealing stalks of wheat straw within. The roofs were covered with thick thatch of varying shades, some of which had turned black, showing the dampness of many years.

After rounding two bends, the view "opened up" slightly into what could be considered a small street.

There were a few more storefronts on either side, their door planks old, but the foot traffic was heavier, and the ground had changed from yellow earth to bluestone slabs.

In the entire old North City district, this street was among the top three for cleanliness, and Lin Yan lived in an alley off this street.

Arriving at his own front door, Lin Yan pushed open the courtyard gate and called out, "Aunt, I’m home."

In the courtyard, a woman soaking laundry by the well looked up. "Yan’er, you’re back. Dinner is being kept warm in the pot. Go and eat first."

"Okay."

Lin Yan agreed. Ever since his uncle was conscripted for corvée labor two years ago and no news had returned, his aunt had closed her steamed bun shop. Now, she supported the family by doing laundry and mending clothes for others.

In his memory, his aunt rarely went out, except to pick up work.

The original owner of the body hadn’t understood why his aunt closed the bun shop when business wasn’t bad.

But Lin Yan understood. Although Guangping County had a Government Office, it wasn’t completely peaceful. Gangs were rampant, and a widow’s home is a magnet for trouble.

His aunt was raising him and his cousin; she didn’t want to attract any trouble. Doing laundry and mending clothes earned less, but it was stable and quiet.

He entered the main house. Although the room wasn’t large and was mostly taken up by the stove, cupboards, and table, there was no smell of dampness or mold. The room was very tidy.

Lin Yan was indeed a bit hungry.

He went to the stove, served himself a bowl of rice from the pot, and ate it with the cured meat and green vegetables on the table. Lin Yan didn’t find it unpalatable; this body of his was already used to it.

After the meal, Lin Yan looked at his aunt, who was still washing clothes, and asked, "Aunt, where’s my little brother?"

His cousin, Lin Mo, was six years younger than him.

"He’s out running wild with the other kids. Go look for him in a bit and call him back for dinner."

His aunt from the Liu Family didn’t look up, but when Lin Yan heard this, his eyes flickered with emotion.

In his memory, his aunt was very strict with him but lax in disciplining his younger cousin. Although it was said to be because his cousin was younger, when he was that age, he would be scolded or even spanked by his aunt if he stayed out playing for too long.

The original owner had felt that this differential treatment was because he wasn’t her biological son, but Lin Yan had a different perspective.

’If she were truly biased, would I get new clothes every year, while my younger cousin wears my hand-me-downs?’

’If she were truly biased, would she have scraped together several dozen wen each month to send me to a teacher to learn to read and write for two years?’

"Aunt, I don’t want to work at Zhou’s Shop anymore."

At Lin Yan’s words, his aunt’s hands paused in the laundry. She looked up, her eyes filled with worry. "Were you bullied at the shop?"

"I wasn’t bullied."

Lin Yan shook his head. With the Martial Arts Tree in his mind, embarking on the path of Martial Arts was inevitable.

If he hadn’t been set up, he would have lived the original owner’s life peacefully for a while, waiting until he understood this world better before considering learning Martial Arts.

But with Zhang Dahai’s scheme already in motion, and after seeing his aunt and recalling her decisiveness in closing the bun shop and selling her fields, he changed his mind.

"I want to learn Martial Arts."