But now, in just about five days, he was able to move around freely. All the bruises on his body had disappeared. The wound on his head was still there, but it had healed more than halfway. The severe headache had also almost completely disappeared.
Lu Xuan had tried many times these past few days but hadn't found any other cheat codes. He could only console himself that at least he had been given a strong and healthy body. This was something he had longed for but couldn't obtain in his previous life.
Now that he can move around, he naturally has to find a way to make a living. These days, the old man has been taking care of him. As a young man, he naturally wouldn't just watch an old man with gray hair feed him every day.
He once asked the old man his name. The old man said he had long forgotten. He had lived here for over twenty years, and everyone called him "Old Man Who Never Dies."
From that day on, Lu Xuan followed the old man around the small town, trying to make a living. The old man was considered a local, and by following him, at least he wouldn't be sold like livestock. However, he was getting old and couldn't find any good work.
Occasionally, caravans would come to town, and they would help unload the goods. They didn't ask for money, just some dry rations. This low-price strategy was a major reason why they were able to get some work.
This went on for more than a month, until one day they were targeted again.
Because Lu Xuan was strong and healthy, and charged low prices, he took on many manual labor jobs in town. Over time, he managed to save up some money.
Well, what they called "belongings" were really just a bunch of baked flatbreads and a large piece of roasted mutton. And it was precisely these "belongings" that attracted the attention of others.
They were two down-on-their-luck knife-wielders. They were among the lowest-ranking knife-wielders in the small town. However, they still felt a strange sense of superiority over Lu Xuan, an outsider, and the old man, Lao Bu Si.
"Kid, if you know what's good for you, hand over the stuff." The tone made it seem like they were robbing someone of some rare treasure. But in reality, they were only after a dozen or so hard, rock-hard flatbreads and a piece of roasted mutton.
That night, Lu Xuan received his first knife. A worn-out machete with a wooden handle. The blade had over a dozen nicks, and the body was covered in rust. In Lu Xuan's original era, this thing would have been considered trash; no one would have picked it up if it fell on the ground.
But here, it is a final symbol of a knife-wielder.
Seeing the two disheveled and emaciated 'knife-wielders' swaggeringly trying to steal the flatbread and mutton he had painstakingly saved, Lu Xuan felt an invisible rage surge from his chest.
He inexplicably transmigrated, was beaten, robbed, and starved. He almost died in this so-called Kaiyuan era of the Tang Dynasty. The anger in Lu Xuan's heart was constantly suppressed by the pressure of survival. What did this wretched place have to do with the Tang Dynasty of his dreams?
Lu Xuan chose to resist, his weapon being a piece of flatbread in his hand.
It's an exaggeration to say that a flatbread is hard enough to kill someone. Anyway, when Lu Xuan smashed it into the other person's face, he didn't kill him; he just made the other person tumble over.
He rushed forward like a madman, grabbed the man's hand holding the knife, and twisted it forcefully. A snap was heard, accompanied by the man's scream, and he easily snatched the knife. Without a second thought, he brought the knife down.
He didn't realize that his strength far exceeded what he used to possess. The worn-out knife, with its blunt blade and a dozen nicks, was wielded by him like an axe. With one strike, he cleaved open his opponent's throat, and with another, he severed the spine, nearly severing the entire head.
As for the old man beside him, although he was old, he was still agile and much more experienced than Lu Xuan. As soon as Lu Xuan made his move, he took advantage of the moment when the other man's accomplice was stunned. He bent down, grabbed the leg of the other knife-wielder, and then suddenly lifted him up.
With a thud, the back of his head hit the ground. He didn't even utter a sound; he was dead instantly. (Friendly reminder: never do this in a fight, it could kill someone.)
When Lu Xuan came to his senses, the battle was over. Only the hot blood still streaming down his face reminded him of what had just happened. Looking at the mangled corpse before him, he felt a strange panic. He gripped the knife even tighter, as if only in this way could he find a sliver of security.
What does it feel like to kill someone? Lu Xuan didn't really understand. Because the next day, he still had to struggle to survive. The little bit of wealth he had saved couldn't give him any sense of security.
The only difference is that this time, he has a knife. He can work as a knife-wielder.
In this land, any job requiring a knife is a life-or-death struggle. Lu Xuan didn't even have time to experience the aftereffects of killing before facing a second killing, then a third, and a fourth. Until one day, he discovered that killing had become a habit. Because it was the fundamental rule of survival here.
Lu Xuan had narrowly escaped death countless times. He knew no swordsmanship, relying solely on his superhuman speed and strength to hack and slash wildly. In a one-on-one fight, this gave him a significant advantage. However, in a group battle, experienced swordsmen would quickly lock onto him as their primary target and then surround and attack him.
If it weren't for the old man's experience and his repeated rescues, Lu Xuan would have been hacked to death countless times. Even so, he still had more than a dozen wounds on his body. The longest cut was twenty centimeters long, cutting from his back and almost reaching his spine. Even the old man thought he was doomed. But after being unconscious and running a high fever for several days, he woke up again.
The old man was very superstitious and believed Lu Xuan possessed great fortune, so he took even better care of him. Lu Xuan learned all the rules of survival here from him. It's quite amazing. The two worked together as knife-wielders and went through more than one major battle. Lu Xuan was strong and healthy, but he ended up covered in scars. But the old man was completely unharmed.
And yet, you never see the old man slacking off. Every time there's a fight, whether it's a gang war or a battle against bandits, the old man charges forward with a roar, genuinely hacking and slashing. But apart from once getting a small gash a few centimeters long on his chest, he's almost never been injured.
Lu Xuan was very curious and had asked the old man about it privately before. The old man told him that you have to choose your target before the battle begins. You see me rushing forward with such enthusiasm? That's because I'm afraid someone will steal my target.
I've been around here for twenty years. The only reason I'm still alive is because I have sharp eyes. I can tell at a glance who the cowards are and who the real tough guys are. When it comes to fighting, of course I'll pick on the weak.
Lu Xuan was speechless. This was the old man's survival rule, something most people couldn't learn. However, he had once asked the old man about it.
Have you ever misjudged someone?
"To be honest, I did make a mistake once. But luckily, I didn't suffer any losses."
Lu Xuan immediately became interested.
"Tell me, who can fool an old fox like you?"
"Hehe, the only time I misjudged someone in my entire life was when it came to you..."
Lu Xuan's career as a knife-wielder began, and he remained in that role for three years.
------------
Chapter Three: The Sandstorm Arrives
Three years is neither a long nor a short time. Some things will remain unchanged, while others will undergo earth-shattering changes.
Lu Xuan belonged to the group whose lives underwent a dramatic transformation. In three years, he went from a complete novice to the town's top knife-wielder. The price he paid was nearly a hundred times his hands were stained with blood, and he had more than twenty knife scars on his body.
However, after gaining fame, Lu Xuan stopped working as a butcher. He took over the best shop in town and started selling mutton soup with the old man.
As a modern person, Lu Xuan knew very well that being a knife-wielder was not a long-term solution. Even with the advantages of being a transmigrator, such as superior physical strength and recovery ability, he was still within the realm of ordinary people. Because if he were cut, he would bleed, become weak, and even die.
So, he found an opportunity to leave that line of work and started a mutton soup restaurant. He had some cooking skills in his previous life. After all, living alone, this was an essential skill. Although his skills weren't great, in a small town in the Western Regions during the Tang Dynasty, if he said he was the best, no one would dare to say they were second.
In the Gobi Desert, Lu Xuan rode a horse at a leisurely pace. Behind the horse were two sheep. These were ingredients for his mutton soup restaurant, which he had obtained by trading a small bag of salt with a small Turkic tribe in the west.
The Turkic tribes were not truly a nation of soldiers. Some small tribes were still marginalized and exploited. Unable to survive within the Turkic territory, they could only rely on neutral towns on the border to exchange for necessities.
Lu Xuan had just finalized a deal with a small tribe to exchange sheep regularly. This meant he had secured a long-term supplier for his mutton soup restaurant. With the deal done, Lu Xuan was in a good mood and had plenty of time, so he wasn't in a hurry and strolled along leisurely.
However, as he walked, a gust of sandstorm caused Lu Xuan's expression to change slightly. He quickened his pace and came to a small sand dune. Looking into the distance, he could see a black line stretching across the horizon.
At this, Lu Xuan's expression changed drastically. He immediately quickened his pace. Unfortunately, with two sheep leading the horse, he couldn't go very fast. Helpless, Lu Xuan had no choice but to cut the ropes binding the sheep and release one of them. Then, he slashed the neck of the other sheep, threw the struggling sheep onto the horse's back, and rode off at full speed towards the town.