Chapter 2: Life is a Struggle and Death is Boundless

The practice of refining martial artists was unheard of.

However, Ling Ye just succeeded.

His uncontrollable killing spree began once he created his own set of techniques.

The technique he used to refine martial artists was amazing.

However, it would take control of the person who used it, increasing its strength to perfection.

Once Ling Ye forcibly stopped being controlled by this technique, his meridians became a mess.

He wouldn't live long.

Even the most powerful genius doctor in the world could not save him.

He had three days left to live at this point.

Three days would be all he had left.

His transmigration was a joke.

Due to his fate, he was very clear-headed, the same as Luo Xinli.

Certainly, he wasn't doing anything crazy, just what he wanted.

Sober, Ling Ye enjoyed drinking the most.

Drinking makes one numb.

The most enjoyable thing for a sober person was to become numb.

"Waiting for death is painful, but drinking is a delight."

Ling Ye's drunken voice sounded,

"It is a delight to drink to death."

Although he was happy, the innkeeper wasn't.

The innkeeper was worried the drunken guy wouldn't be able to afford the jars of wine.

He had seen drunkards like this before in his inn.

"This guest, you see... This small inn has already run out of wine. Why don't you... come back tomorrow?"

Immediately, the innkeeper stepped forward and asked timidly.

Ling Ye didn't answer, just casually extended his hand.

Clang!

There were more than thirty silver coins that fell, totaling a thousand taels.

All eyes turned toward the coins when they saw the large number of silver coins.

He carried so much money on him. Which family's young master was he?

And he gave them so elegantly.

He was squandering money as if it were dung.

"This... Thank you, Sir. Thank you very much."

Naturally, the innkeeper had the same expression. He then hurriedly said: "Rest assured, even if my inn runs out of wine, we will bring it from other inns as long as Sir needs it. All Sir needs to do is ask."

As soon as he said those words, he hurriedly kneeled down.

One by one, he picked up the silver coins as he kneeled on the ground with trembling hands.

It was simply a blessing from heaven for him.

"It is very generous of you Sir."

Picking up the silver coins with trembling hands, he spoke with a trembling voice, "The inn would never charge Sir in the future."

The innkeeper would never be able to earn these thousands of taels of silver in his lifetime.

Everyone centered their eyes on the coins and the innkeeper.

They were damn jealous.

Why don't they have such good luck?

A white-browed old Taoist, holding a fuchen, slowly walked in from the outside at this moment.

(TL: fuchen: a type of fly-whisk, consisting of a short staff with hair (from an animal such as a cow, horse, or yak) that is used as instruments by Chan Buddhist monks and Taoist daoshi. (Source: Google))

He spoke as he walked. "Since ancient times, flowers have not always been beautiful. The moon is not always full."

"You can accumulate gold and jade but it is hard to buy immortality."

"A bird of prey can have a thousand-year-old crane and the world is full of people who are 100 years old. Life is a struggle and death is boundless. When do you want to realize? Where can I grow if I want to?"

"The clouds and the smoke and the rain. Nothing to sigh about. Talking about fame and fortune."

"Boasting of beautiful writings. I need to believe that in the end it's an illusion. The end of the fond dream."

Suddenly, that old white-browed Taoist walked right up to Ling Ye's table.

"I was wondering which Taoist it was, but it turned out to be you, the so-called "faker."

At first glance, everyone recognized this person.

This person's name was Yi Xuanchen and he called himself Taoist Xuanchen.

In fact, he was a faker.

The white hair, eyebrows, and beard on his face were all fake. Actually, he was only 20 or 30 years old.

He cheated all day long, pretending to be a Taoist master.

He was well known in Jianghu.

Seeing Yi Xuanchen, Ling Ye stood up from the table as well.

"I see you have some worries in your heart. If you agree to hear your fortune from this poor Taoist, I will be happy to tell it to you for free."

Yi Xuanchen, holding a fuchen, looked at Ling Ye.

Immediately, the surrounding people raised their voices: "Do not listen to him, brother."

"There's no way he can tell fortunes. He's a liar, everyone knows he's a liar."

It was evident that Yi Xuanchen had a very poor reputation.

There was no doubt about his reputation.

However, Ling Ye did not seem concerned. He asked, "What is it?"

Yi Xuanchen grinned when he heard Ling Ye's question.

"Lend me some money. Hehe... It won't be much, just 100,000 taels of silver. I'll pay you back later."

It was simply an unjustly large sum of money.

He had caught a fat sheep and was gripping it firmly.

"Don't believe him, Brother. He's a liar. I bet you won't even see him again if you listen to him."

Those around were quick to persuade Ling Ye.

Even the innkeeper hurriedly said, "Don't be fooled by this man, sir. He's a faker."

In spite of everyone's persuasion, Yi Xuanchen neither explained himself nor denied what everyone said.

Ling Ye immediately nodded as if he had not heard anything.

"Alright."