Surviving the Ancient Angst Novel [Transmigration] - Chapter 7

I followed Mei Renteng as we weaved through the forest.

The night was deep; the only sound in our surroundings was the rhythm of our footsteps.

Mei Renteng walked ahead, drifting along like a ghost with his glass lantern in hand. I trailed half a step behind, which gave me a clear view of his jet-black hair unevenly cut as if someone had hacked at it blindly with scissors. It was a tangled mess, flecked with dust and bits of grass.

As I stared, my mind began to automatically replay his backstory…

His entire life had been utterly destroyed by three men.

—How pathetic.

But to be serious, when it came to Mei Renteng, my curiosity outweighed my sympathy. Why was he so obsessed with getting me into the Eastern Wasteland Sect? And is he actually insane, or just faking it?

If he’s truly mad, why would the sect’s upper echelon allow him to interfere with the recruitment of new disciples? If he’s faking, then why? Is it for survival?

No, a man like Mei Renteng possesses a stubborn pride and a fierce sense of self-respect. If he weren’t that way, he wouldn’t have suffered a mental breakdown just from Zhao You’s verbal insults. A man like him shouldn’t be able to endure twenty years of forced intimacy with someone he loathes just to survive.

To put it in perspective, the King of Yue, Goujian, is still praised for “sleeping on brushwood and tasting gall” for ten years to nurse his revenge. Mei Renteng has spent over twenty years consciously allowing himself to become a living joke in the eyes of others. He hasn’t taken a single measure to rid himself of that Blue Jade Envoy; instead, he remains submissive, granting every demand.

What a terrifying level of grit. It’s something no ordinary man could endure let alone a man raised in a traditional, feudal society.

The more I thought about it, the more I sighed. Not a single protagonist in these “misery-porn” novels is a simple character.

After walking for about the time it takes to burn a stick of incense, we encountered another group four people in total.

Leading them was a man in sturdy attire with a Yellow Jade hanging from his waist, also carrying a glass lantern. As he passed us, he swept a mocking glance over Mei Renteng, let out a disdainful snort, and led his people straight past.

The three followers behind him were hobbling along, leaning on each other for support. They were all injured to varying degrees: one’s arm hung limply at his side, clearly broken; another was dripping wet and shivering violently; a third had lost all his hair to fire, his face charred black and his clothes so tattered you could see the scorched red flesh beneath.

“Miserable” didn’t even begin to cover it.

I toggled on my “Auspicious Vision” mode. These people appeared in shades of gray meaning they were just extras, cannon fodder, or background fluff.

I stopped walking and looked at Mei Renteng ahead of me. Good lord, the brilliant golden light radiating from him nearly blinded me.

The system time was now 11:30 PM. The Hour of the Rat had passed. This man in the sturdy gear was likely the real Guide.

In contrast, Mei Renteng was a wildcard. His style was unpredictable, and it wasn’t clear if he was a friend or foe. Staying with him felt like a gamble. Plus, he was the most famous “madman” in the sect; following him would draw eyes everywhere we went. Being a newcomer, I didn’t want to be on anyone’s radar.

After a moment of hesitation, I decisively abandoned Mei Renteng and chose to follow the other four.

Mei Renteng didn’t notice his shadow was gone and continued walking aimlessly. Soon, his white silhouette vanished into the trees.

Relieved, I lowered my head and followed the group.

Along the way, we encountered other injured newcomers. The “Yellow Jade” man would wait for about half a cup of tea’s time; if the newcomer couldn’t get up or move fast enough, he would simply leave. If they hesitated or doubted him, he’d walk away without a second thought.

He didn’t waste a single word. In this place, you had to grab your own opportunities; once missed, they were gone.

One clever fellow, seeing the man move on, scrambled to follow. As he ran, he whispered to me at the back of the line: “Is he the Guide?”

I smiled and gave an honest answer: “I don’t know.”

Disappointment flashed in his eyes, and his pace slowed briefly, but he quickly caught back up. He didn’t say anything else.

That’s the reality—everyone here is gambling.

I habitually checked him with my Vision. Blue. A supporting character from one of the books. I couldn’t help but look at him a bit longer. He had some dust on his cheeks, but otherwise he looked fine—limbs intact, seemingly uninjured.

He noticed my stare and looked back warily. I quickly turned my head away, pretending nothing was wrong.

He sped up to walk side-by-side with me and whispered, “Are you with them?” He gestured with his chin toward the three injured men.

I shook my head. “No.”

He went silent again, but after a moment he scrutinized me from head to toe. “How did you get into the Eastern Wasteland?”

He had a point. I have no wealth, no looks, no martial arts, and no status. How did I get in? I was actually wondering that myself.

But I had nothing to say.

I mirrored his actions and looked him over. He had single eyelids, a high nose, and thick lips he looked like a “pretty boy” supporting actor from a Korean web drama. Not bad looking, but not a standout. Just the type of “average handsome guy” you’d run into on a city street. He wore a trendy, round-collared navy blue brocade robe; clearly, he’d lived well in the past.

“How did you get in?” I asked back.

“Paid my way in,” he said, brushing dust off his clothes and smiling at me.

I pressed further: “Why pay to come here?”

He dodged the question. “No reason. Just wanted to.”

I nodded and fell silent.

Suddenly, he asked, “You were sold in here, weren’t you?”

I kept nodding, picking at the fabric of my trousers. “Sigh, yeah.”

Seeing my “ashamed and depressed” face, he snickered. “Don’t be like that. We’re all at the same starting point now.”

I was surprised. “Why do you say that?” Did this guy know something?

But he just turned his face away and went quiet.

Another half-incense-stick later, our little squad encountered another loner. I checked with the system—Holy cow, Golden Light! Another one.

The probability of meeting a protagonist in this godforsaken world is higher than the drop rate in a Gacha game. If I had this luck in the modern world, I’d be a whale-level player.

Back to the point. This protagonist was incredibly good-looking: curved willow-leaf eyebrows, a dainty nose, full lips, and skin so pale and tender it looked like it would bruise at a touch. Most importantly, he was wearing face powder and lip rouge.

This is a girl in disguise! This is absolutely a girl in disguise!! Does nobody see this?? Doesn’t the Eastern Wasteland Sect only accept male disciples??

I took a quick look at my mental bookshelf. Sure enough, the book Lethal Black and White was glowing gold in the corner. I opened it and skimmed through.

The protagonist’s name: Chu Mei. Originally from a prestigious family, her entire clan was slaughtered in a single night. She was the sole survivor because she hid in the latrine. Supposedly, she found a blood-drawn pattern of a “Qiongyan Flower” at the scene the unique symbol of the Eastern Wasteland Sect. Thus, she disguised herself as a man to infiltrate the sect and seek her bloody revenge.

The “Blue-Robed Guy” next to me acted like he had cataracts. He squatted down happily and asked, “Brother, can you get up?”

Chu Mei lowered her soft voice, blinked her watery eyes, and said in a forced, gravelly tone, “I sprained my ankle.”

Blue-Robed Guy immediately grabbed her arm, threw it over his shoulder, and carried her.

Seeing the Green Jade hanging at Chu Mei’s waist, I was puzzled: She’s not a newcomer? Then why is she in the Wangfeng Woods?

I was about to dive back into the book to check the plot I’d missed.

Suddenly, the man with the glass lantern spoke coldly: “Didn’t I tell you not to follow us?”

Chu Mei used her gravelly voice to say weakly, “Brother Yi, I…”

The man cut her off impatiently. “Chu Mei, if there’s a next time, I won’t be able to protect you.”

Chu Mei knew she was being let off the hook. She blinked and said sweetly, “I know~ Brother Yi.”

The man looked away and continued leading the way.

I slowed my pace to stay at the very back of the line, quietly pulled up the system interface to a comfortable height, and began reading Lethal Black and White…

As it turned out, Chu Mei’s goal in the Wangfeng Woods was to build popularity. According to the book, besides the official channels and high-level appointments, there is another way to raise your status: The Popular Vote. Held every six months, the three disciples with the most votes are promoted by one rank (limited to Orange Jade and below).

It’s slower than the official route, but it’s safe, easy, and won’t get you killed in your sleep. Tonight, Chu Mei had already helped ten newcomers safely obtain their Eastern Wasteland White Jades. This meant that in the semi-annual election, she would have ten guaranteed votes.

That was enough. Elections were usually filled with people voting for themselves, friends voting for each other, or people being threatened into voting (though the latter was rare if you have the power to threaten someone’s life, you usually just take the official promotion route, unless you’re a “votive” puppet backed by a big shot).

In the Eastern Wasteland Sect, everyone craves upward mobility. The higher your status, the more privileges and power you hold. Imagine someone you had to fear and obey yesterday becoming your equal overnight who wouldn’t be excited? You could even climb higher than them, turn the tables, and treat them like a servant to vent years of repressed anger.

It’s the ultimate “face-slapping” satisfaction.

However, the voting route caps at Orange Jade. The true heavyweights don’t care for it; only those who lack martial skill or crave shortcuts focus on this.

As for the “official” promotion route, the book didn’t say. Or rather, Chu Mei didn’t know much about it yet; she’d only been in the sect for a month. She had obtained her Green Jade rank through “means.” The previous owner was dead she had framed him, and then she had killed him with her own hands.

The big shot who gave her the jade had said: Kill him, and this jade is yours.

Chu Mei hadn’t even blinked.

She’s a ruthless one.

I closed the book, still baffled. In the entire Eastern Wasteland Sect, is there really no one who can tell she’s a woman? Her disguise is exactly like those low-budget “girl-disguised-as-man” historical dramas that treat the audience’s IQ like dirt.

System: 【Cough, it’s all for the plot. For the plot.】