Chapter Two: A Dead Mosquito

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Woniu Village, situated within Tiannan County of the Northern Forest Kingdom, was an unremarkable mortal settlement with a population of only three to four thousand. Owing to Tiannan County’s remote, barbaric location, most of the land was wild mountains and vast marshes, and the mortal dwellings were so sparse that dozens or even hundreds of li could separate two villages.

Er Ya was the youngest daughter of Old Li in Woniu Village, only thirteen this year. Because her family was poor, she could only join a few other village children in herding oxen on the nearby hills.

Under the vast, boundless sky, as the sun dipped low, more than a dozen old yellow oxen flicked their tails and grazed on tender grass. Five or six boys and girls, tasked with herding, played nearby.

As he flew out of the bushes and took in the scene before him—the children’s clothing and hairstyles—Xiao Wenzi confirmed that he had indeed transmigrated.

For in the twenty-first-century China, even in the most remote mountain villages, it was rare to see boys and girls with towering topknots, dressed in coarse, patched long shirts. Ordinarily, children of Er Ya’s age would be studying in bright classrooms, not herding cattle in groups.

But all of this had little to do with him. Perhaps it was the instinct of being a mosquito, or perhaps a longing to become stronger through cultivation, but as Xiao Wenzi flew toward the children, his bloodthirsty gaze fell on the exposed skin of their arms and legs.

He truly longed to swoop in and feast to his heart’s content; this craving lingered relentlessly in his mind.

Buzzzzz...

Unconsciously, Xiao Wenzi let out the same humming as any other mosquito. Before he drew near, Er Ya, her ponytail swinging, turned her head warily and raised her hand to swat.

With a crisp smack, her palm slapped through the air. If Xiao Wenzi hadn’t desperately flapped his wings to dodge, he would have lost a precious red heart right then and there.

“Damn it, I was too careless just now—almost tripped up in the gutter…”

Safely out of reach, Xiao Wenzi silently thanked his luck and vowed to control himself next time, making sure not to make a sound when feeding.

“What’s wrong, Er Ya?”

Seeing his companion suddenly turn and swat at the air, the sturdy boy with the towering topknot couldn’t help but ask.

This boy, thirteen or fourteen years old, was the largest and oldest among them, evidently their leader.

“It’s nothing, just a dead mosquito. Brother Huzi, it’s getting late—let’s go home.”

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Seeing the mosquito fly away, Er Ya didn’t give chase. Glancing at the sky, she smiled at the sturdy boy.

The girl’s innocent, rustic smile, shining under the sunset, sent a tremor through Xiao Wenzi’s heart, and he couldn’t help but recall the little Lin girl from his memories. A strange sense of guilt crept over him, and he forcibly suppressed the urge to swoop in and feed again.

“Wait a second, I can understand their language—could this be ancient China?”

Xiao Wenzi quickly banished his guilt. At worst, he simply wouldn’t feed on these children. What mattered more was figuring out which world he had landed in.

In truth, finding the answer wouldn’t be hard; he only needed to seek out a town where people gathered and eavesdrop on their conversations.

Besides, if he wanted to grow stronger, he would need to drink enough fresh blood to acquire the Blood Spirit Technique, as well as spirit liquids, spirit stones, and other treasures to aid his cultivation.

“We should head back. Sanwa, Xiaojun, Liangzi—let’s go.”

Among the children, though there were two girls, the simple-minded Huzi still thought Er Ya was the prettiest. Since they were neighbors and got along well, he had no reason to object. With a call, the children herded the oxen down the slope toward the village, laughing as they went.

Seeing them depart, Xiao Wenzi wasted no time and flapped his wings to follow. This time, however, he didn’t approach the children again, but instead landed atop one of the yellow oxen.

The old ox ambled along, munching grass as it went. The journey from the hillside back to Woniu Village took nearly half an hour, and by the time Xiao Wenzi saw the smoke curling up from the village ahead, dusk had already fallen.

“Er Ya, Huzi, Sanwa—did you hear? Brother Wang Sheng was accepted into the Immortal Sect! He’ll be a great immortal someday. Uncle Wang Lin is overjoyed—he’s slaughtering chickens and sheep for a celebration right now!”

As they approached the village entrance, a chubby little boy in a brocade long shirt and tiger-head cloth shoes trotted over to greet them, calling out excitedly.

No sooner had he finished than he puffed out his chest and headed off, clearly eager for tonight's feast.

“Really? I want to try my luck at the Immortal Sect too. If I could become an immortal cultivator, my father would surely make lots of delicious food…”

Before Er Ya or Huzi could respond, Sanwa, the youngest of the group, wiped drool from the corner of his mouth and spoke up.

“Of course it’s true! Why would I lie? The whole village knows.”

The pudgy boy added, then scampered off without another word. Watching him go, both Er Ya and Huzi wore expressions of envy mixed with a hint of sorrow.

To be admitted into the Immortal Sect and become a cultivator, soaring through the skies—who among them, having heard the tales told by wandering storytellers, didn’t yearn for such a fate? But how could their humble families compare to the wealthy Wang clan, the richest in Woniu Village?

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They had money to pull strings, and Wang Sheng had been well-educated since childhood. But what about themselves? Other than herding cattle, they hadn’t even visited the town a hundred li away, let alone taken part in the cultivator selection.

“Hmm… The Immortal Sect? Cultivators? Does that mean this isn’t ancient China, but another, unfamiliar world altogether? But what does it matter? Tonight the Wang family is hosting a banquet—there will surely be many drunkards, and getting a few drops of their blood should be easy enough. This is a chance not to be missed.”

Xiao Wenzi was oblivious to the shadow in Er Ya’s eyes. Upon hearing of the Wang family's grand celebration, he considered for a moment, then left the old ox and quietly trailed after the pudgy boy.

The Wang residence stood on the north side of Woniu Village, a manor nestled by mountain and water, filled with numerous servants and maids—truly the local landed gentry.

“Young Master Zifeng, welcome—please come in!”

With Wang Sheng, the Wang family’s young master, being accepted into the Azure Mountain Sect, the entire village had come to offer congratulations. The pudgy boy’s father was a collateral relative of the Wang family, and seeing his son bouncing along, the steward at the gate smiled and stepped aside.

Xiao Wenzi followed silently behind, spreading his wings to soar over the wall and enter the sprawling estate. The sight that greeted him took his breath away.

Ornate beams and painted rafters, rockeries and winding corridors—the mansion covered five or six acres. In his previous life, such a house would have been worth a fortune.

And those pretty young maids—several were quite lovely, their figures graceful, their ages young. If only he hadn’t transmigrated into a mosquito—otherwise, becoming a wealthy, notorious landlord with a houseful of wives and concubines might not have been so bad.

“Damn, that blasted spider—nearly fell for your trap.”

Riding on the old ox had been pleasant, but following the boy to the Wang house required Xiao Wenzi to fly at full strength. After several hundred meters, he was nearly exhausted. Passing through a few courtyard gates, he sought a place to rest.

But as he was about to settle on a roof beam, he spotted an enormous spider ahead, and several layers of nearly invisible web strung beneath the eaves.