After Transmigrating into a Frail County Magistrate, I Became an Overlord - Chapter 1

Bucket-sized raindrops smashed against the tiles of the dilapidated temple, emitting a dense, pattering sound. The thatch on the temple roof was sparse, and rainwater gathered into thin streams flowing straight down from the ceiling.

Yun Zhensong’s head felt as though it were splitting apart. While frantically massaging his temples, he reached out to feel his surrounding environment.

The walls were mottled, the ground was bone-chillingly cold, and the damp air was heavy with a musty stench mixed with the fishy smell of rain everywhere reeked of a gloomy eeriness. Though his consciousness had not yet fully cleared, a sense of instinctive terror rose within him.

[Welcome, host, to the life-extension script. I am your accompanying system, 1224.]

Yun Zhensong’s shoulders jerked upward abruptly. The inorganic voice suddenly exploding in his ear shocked him into instant clarity.

[Due to the extremely high compatibility between the host and the Q21 script, the system has intervened to guide the host through the completion of the script.]

[The rules are as follows: Complete the tasks, receive rewards, clear the script, and successfully extend your life. The ending is already set; any attempts at tampering are declined.]

…Hold on just a second.

However, the system seemed eager to rush through its process; it only paused for a moment before continuing its introduction.

[The background story is as follows: A new emperor ascends the throne of Daxuan, changing the era title to Yongchang. Nineteen tribes of the Northern Frontier form an alliance to invade Daxuan. The Grand General of the Northern Frontier leads the Profound Iron Camp into battle, resulting in heavy casualties on both sides. Daxuan barely achieves victory, but on the return march to the capital, the Grand General falls victim to an assassination by hired killers and dies. With no generals left in the court to protect the northern borders, the north falls several years later, leaving Daxuan to occupy a corner of the realm and eke out a temporary existence. Because the host’s status is humble, you have no qualifications to participate in the aforementioned plot, and it is therefore only briefly summarized.]

Yun Zhensong was momentarily at a loss for words, so he simply listened quietly and slowly digested the information. He had originally expected to be a formidable figure, but upon hearing the words “status is humble,” he couldn’t help but choke: “……?”

Then what on earth were you just introducing?

[To allow the host to gain a more comprehensive understanding of this script.]

[The host’s identity is: Magistrate of Yuanqing County.]

[Yuanqing County is located at the intersection of three rivers, suffering from frequent floods, barren soil, rampant bandits, and a populace struggling to survive. Therefore, before the northern territories fall, the host must develop Yuanqing County. When the nineteen tribes launch their siege against the city, you must defend the city gates to the death at all costs for half a month, leaving behind the wisdom and bravery of the Huaxia bloodline in the history books of Daxuan. Only then will the script be cleared, and at that time, the host will completely achieve life extension and return to the real world.]

The system droned on with its flat, continuous output, and Yun Zhensong committed every single word to memory without missing a beat.

It wasn’t until the system finished speaking and emitted a short, sharp concluding tone that Yun Zhensong fully processed everything.

This system was altogether too bizarre so bizarre that Yun Zhensong sensed a trace of impatience emanating from it.

Right now, however, he didn’t have much time to think; he needed to figure out his current situation as quickly as possible.

He blinked. Pitch-black darkness met his eyes. As he slowly groped his way forward, he bit by bit checked his physical condition, ultimately reaching the conclusion that he “wasn’t going to die just yet.”

Three months ago, he had been diagnosed with stomach cancer, and immediately afterward was informed that he had a walnut-sized malignant tumor growing in his brain. From sheer disbelief to calm acceptance, it hadn’t even taken him a single full day.

In fact, aside from shock, Yun Zhensong felt mostly at peace with the fact that one second he was in a hospital, and the next he had arrived in this desolate, ruined temple with an extra system planted in his brain.

His mental resilience was terrifyingly strong. It seemed as though nothing in the world could knock him down; he could squeeze out a polite and proper smile when his own uncle bluntly cast him aside, and he could maintain his optimism even when learning that his days were numbered.

Yun Zhensong’s fate had been full of twists and turns. His parents died in a car accident, turning him into an orphan overnight. Eager to swallow his parents’ inheritance whole, his third uncle took Yun Zhensong into his home, marking the beginning of a life spent living under someone else’s roof.

Yet he was an optimist by nature. He blocked out his third uncle’s family’s disdain and aversion as much as possible to keep them from affecting his mood. Having managed to test into university and believing he had finally escaped the clutches of demons, a single medical report dragged him right back into a hospital ward. From then on, pain and loneliness accompanied him like shadows; suffering through pain so severe that he couldn’t sleep or eat was an everyday occurrence.

Yun Zhensong longed desperately for love, but no one could give it to him. He frequently fantasized: if his parents were still alive, what kind of life would he be living? He didn’t ask for immense wealth or high status he only wanted someone to love him.

To receive love to receive a love that belonged exclusively to him, without a single impurity.

And so, fantasy became his sole amusement while lying in the hospital ward. He frequently indulged in it, eventually believing it so deeply that his yearning for his parents burned like a prairie fire, leaving Yun Zhensong completely defenseless against its onslaught.

At the very end, Yun Zhensong swallowed the pills.

The moment he opened his eyes again, Yun Zhensong had arrived in this drafty, leaking ruined temple.

“Patter, crackle”

He suddenly heard a sound resembling a crackling campfire. Just as he prepared to stand up, the soreness and prickling numbness in his body made their delayed presence known, and all his senses gradually returned.

Guided by the faint firelight not far away, Yun Zhensong lowered his gaze to see a thick hemp rope tightly binding his body. Inadvertently, he glanced toward his side.

Another man, head drooping and breathing shallowly, was similarly bound. Amidst the damp and stifling air, Yun Zhensong caught the pungent scent of heavy blood, causing him to draw in a sharp breath and furrow his brows deeply.

The emotional fluctuation caused his lungs to ache and itch unbearably, and he couldn’t help coughing a few times, letting out a continuous stream of helpless sighs in his heart.

“……Endure it.”

Yun Zhensong whipped his head around. He saw the man laboriously raise his head, that pair of pitch-black eyes hidden beneath wet locks staring flatly right at him.

Suddenly, a flash of lightning tore through the firmament, and the pale light pierced through the dilapidated window lattices, illuminating the interior of the temple as bright as day. The tall, solemn statue of a deity behind the man flashed into stark visibility, its clay-molded visage turning even more terrifying, fixed in a bizarre and eerie smile.

The lightning’s glare simultaneously outlined the man’s physique: powerfully built, his frame barely concealed beneath tattered garments stained with mud and blood. At this moment, one hand was pressed tightly against a heavily bleeding wound on his abdomen, while his legs hung limply on the ground. He tried his best to keep his upper body upright, but due to severe injuries compounded by the damp cold, the pain had left him half-delirious.

Having finished those words with his remaining strength, his head lolled to the side, coming to rest against Yun Zhensong’s shoulder.

Perhaps because the man’s steady and magnetic voice had soothed Yun Zhensong, or perhaps because the man’s calm and unhurried gaze provided him with an inexplicable sense of security, Yun Zhensong managed to suppress his discomfort and stopped coughing altogether.

Everything happened much too fast; Yun Zhensong had no time to think or ask questions before chaotic, disorderly footsteps suddenly rang out behind him. Yun Zhensong immediately feigned unconsciousness, narrowing his eyes just enough to see three or five burly men dressed like bandits crowding around the campfire to sit down and converse.

“What kind of damned weather is this, raining this hard! We can’t even make it back to the mountain stronghold!”

“Third Brother, don’t be anxious. This trip wasn’t a total loss for us, either; aren’t there two lying right over there?”

“Damn it! If one of them weren’t wearing the most expensive fabric in Daxuan and the other didn’t have a few taels of silver in his pocket, I would’ve killed them long ago!”

“Kill, kill, kill! All you ever think about is killing! Use that slit you call eyes to take a proper look isn’t there one over there who looks damn good?!”

Third Brother was a blockhead: “Can good looks be spent as silver?!”

“……Keep your silver and get the hell out of my sight.”

Listening to their exchange, Yun Zhensong’s eyes widened.

After asking himself several times who looked better, him or the man beside him, he decided to set that question aside for now; his most urgent priority was figuring out the current situation.

Sensing through his skin that the clothes on his body were coarse and abrasive, rubbing against him until it hurt and itched, he deduced that the former must be the man collapsed against his shoulder.

Immediately afterward, Yun Zhensong caught a few more pieces of information.

“The boss said the injured fellow’s family background must be extraordinary, so we can’t touch him. The other one should have a bit of pocket money; once the rain stops, we’ll force his family to send silver to ransom him. Either way, we won’t lose out.”

Relying on the original owner’s memories combined with these fragmentary words, Yun Zhensong pieced together the sequence of events.

With war and famine raging in the north, this gang of bandits had been starving until their eyes saw stars. Thinking of heading south to try their luck, they happened to run into Yun Zhensong gathering herbs alone on the mountain. Finding over a dozen taels of silver on him—and taking a fancy to his stunning, peerless face they delivered a swift blow to the back of his neck and knocked him out cold.

As for this man, they had crossed paths with him while seeking shelter from the rain inside the temple on their way back to the stronghold. The man’s identity was unknown, his injuries mysterious, and his attire supremely extraordinary commanding awe and wariness. Not daring to act rashly, the bandits had decided to tie him up first and ask questions later.

Just as Yun Zhensong finished piecing the ins and outs together on his own, the system’s voice rang out:

[Congratulations to the host for completing a hidden task. Reward: 5 points of luck value.]

[Now beginning to issue the first task.]

Yun Zhensong perked up his spirits and listened closely.

[Task 1: Survive.]

Yun Zhensong: “……………?”

Not even a single hint? Do you mind saying a couple more words?

However, as if it had never existed in the first place, the system fell completely silent.

Even someone with as good a temper as Yun Zhensong felt like cursing out a “dogshit system.”

Yet, even driven to such a dead end where he had to feel his way forward like a blind man, the moment the man’s hand slipped away from his wound, Yun Zhensong’s reflexes kicked in. In the split second before blood could spurt forth, his hand shot out with blinding speed and pressed down hard over the injury.

His movement was fast, precise, and ruthless; the only issue was that he hadn’t quite calibrated his strength, eliciting a muffled groan of “Ngh” from the unconscious man whose eyelashes fluttered as he jolted awake.

Yun Zhensong hurriedly defended himself: “I had good intentions, don’t go blaming me. Your hand slipped off, and if I hadn’t helped you, this blood would’ve splattered”

“……I know.” The man’s voice was wispy and threadbare, his vision blurred. Catching sight of Yun Zhensong’s flustered expression, he narrowed his eyes slightly and parted his lips: “……Thanks to you… pressing me awake.”

The words “This general” were swallowed back down into the man’s stomach.

Yun Zhensong asked, “What do we do now?”

The man slowly let out a breath to ride out the wave of pain, then continued, “Rest.”

A giant question mark popped up on Yun Zhensong’s forehead as he stared at the man.

For a fleeting second, a complex expression crossed the man’s face. In the past, he would never have uttered an extra syllable while bleeding profusely.

Closing his eyes, the man said tiredly, “Wait for me to recover a bit. Once the bleeding stops, I’ll take you away.”

“And if it doesn’t stop?”

“……I’ll still take you away.” The man coldly stared at the other person’s tightly furrowed face, letting out a helpless sigh. “With me here, have no fear.”

Yun Zhensong’s gaze snapped upward.

The man didn’t see the rims of Yun Zhensong’s eyes instantly redden. No one had ever spoken to him like that before; he had always had to shoulder everything by himself, with no way out, no backing, and not even a shelter from the wind.

Yun Zhensong possessed the original owner’s memories. The original owner was exceptionally skilled in medicine, particularly in acupuncture, and right now, a small pouch of silver needles was tucked inside his robes more than enough to stop bleeding.

Yet he hadn’t made a move earlier, firstly because he had never tried it with his own hands, and secondly because the man’s identity was unknown. What if he turned out to be an enemy as well? Wouldn’t that be putting the cart before the horse?

Shaking his head to clear it, Yun Zhensong gathered twelve points of concentration. First, he glanced sideways toward the bandits, who were roasting meat and eating, then quietly inched his body toward the base of the deity statue, hoping to use the towering idol to shield the two of them.

Glimpsing his movements, the man quietly let the other person laboriously drag him over. Then, he watched as Yun Zhensong gritted his teeth and compressed his hand joints to the absolute limit until a crisp crack echoed out. Seeing that this person was willing to snap his own bones just to break free, the man felt a surge of astonishment and raised an eyebrow in surprise.

Quickly and efficiently, Yun Zhensong freed himself from the ropes, drew out the silver needles from his robes, held his breath with a grave expression, and stripped off the man’s upper garments. The flesh and fabric were somewhat stuck together, but the man didn’t let out a single sound.

“I’m going to apply the needles to stop your bleeding.” Fear fluttered in Yun Zhensong’s heart, but his tone remained resolute. “You… also have no fear.”

That sounded rather like he was comforting himself.

The man fell silent for a moment before uttering, “Mhm.”

When Yun Zhensong finished placing all the needles, beads of nervous sweat slid down his cheeks. His full, ruddy lips were pressed into a thin line, and his refined profile was clearly captured by the man’s pitch-dark, heavy gaze hidden beneath his disheveled bangs.

The two sat shoulder to shoulder, wrapped in silence. Yun Zhensong’s energy was completely spent, and a wave of drowsiness washed over him. Meanwhile, the man regained his strength and secretly plotted, calm and collected with the composure of someone who had survived hundreds of prior battles, holding all the strategies in the palm of his hand.

The wind whistled mournfully through the broken gaps of the temple doors, sounding like the low growl of some wild beast. Outside, the ancient trees swayed violently in the gale, and bare branches scraped together with teeth-grating screeches.

Trapped here in such hollow emptiness, leaving a fine beauty untouched would truly be running at a loss.

Second Brother exchanged a look with the boss.

The bandit leader sported a bushy beard and smiled lewdly. Spitting into his palm, he rubbed his hands together and stalked toward Yun Zhensong: “Your grandpa here is going to taste what you’re made of.”

Yun Zhensong’s eyes, which had been on the verge of closing in sleep, snapped wide open!

What, what, what! What kind of plot progression is this?!

The ropes Yun Zhensong had tied back around himself were just for show; if he ran right now…

The bushy-bearded leader reached out an oily hand. Yun Zhensong shrank back, trembling all over.

The man raised his gaze. The next instant, the man’s cold voice rang out:

“What are you up to?”

“Don’t want your hands anymore?”