Chapter Two: Innate Merit Coins

In the early morning, gentle sunlight spilled over the land, filtering through the window and falling onto the bed. Rubbing his weary eyes, Yang Xuan stretched lazily and climbed out of bed.

After lying in bed for two days, Yang Xuan felt as if his whole body was about to grow mold. No phone, no television, no games, not a single form of entertainment—this was nothing short of torment. If he hadn’t feared someone would notice the “Yang Xuan” they knew had been replaced, he wouldn’t have feigned illness in bed for two days.

In these two days, nearly everyone of importance on Mount Yellow Maple had come to visit him. Cross-referencing with the memories in his mind, he had managed to identify each person, so there was no longer any risk of not recognizing someone. That was enough. The original Yang Xuan had always been rather withdrawn; aside from his elder brother Yang Li and his sister Yang Cai’er, he hadn’t interacted much with others, including his father, Yang Huaiyun.

As for Yang Li and Yang Cai’er, Yang Li had broken through to the Foundation Establishment stage two years ago and, after being recruited by the Celestial Profound Sect, was now serving in their army on the border with the demon clans. Yang Cai’er, since marrying into the Chen family of Eastern Li, rarely ever returned home.

There had been two maidservants in the residence who were quite familiar with the original Yang Xuan, but since they were mere servants in this rigidly stratified world, even if they noticed any change in him, they would never dare to speak recklessly.

A large cup of unknown demon beast milk, a bowl of porridge made from spirit rice, a slab of beast meat from an advanced demon, and a few spirit fruits—this was Yang Xuan’s breakfast. Compared to before, this meal was undeniably extravagant.

Yang Xuan guessed that the sudden improvement in his meals was likely due to his recent recovery and his new status as a Foundation Establishment cultivator.

For cultivators at the Foundation Establishment stage, fasting was no longer a problem, but as the saying goes, the more you eat, the faster you grow—and this principle applied to cultivation as well. Demon beast milk, advanced beast meat, spirit rice, spirit fruits—though these wouldn’t instantly increase one’s magical power, over time, the effects would be considerable.

Thus, unless under special circumstances, even the most advanced cultivators rarely gave up their three daily meals.

Perhaps from lying in bed too long and feeling weak, Yang Xuan didn’t waste a single morsel, eating everything on the table.

After breakfast, Yang Xuan finally opened his door and stepped outside. The rising sun cast its warm rays over him, filling him with comfort. Bathed in sunlight, Yang Xuan couldn’t help but begin to circulate his cultivation technique.

Scarlet energy coursed through his meridians, making him feel utterly refreshed. In a word—exhilarating!

“Hm?”

As the energy completed its circuit and slowly returned to his core, Yang Xuan immediately noticed something unusual within his dantian.

Turning his gaze inward, he saw that in his pond-like pool of magical power, a coin radiating golden light lay quietly at the bottom.

“Isn’t this the ancient coin I bought for two hundred yuan at the street market?”

Upon recognizing the coin’s true form, Yang Xuan’s eyes widened in disbelief.

He vividly remembered that his journey to this world had begun when he accidentally got some blood on this very coin—then he blacked out, and woke up here.

Since the coin had crossed over with him, it was clearly the culprit behind his transmigration.

“I’d like to see just what you are!”

Yang Xuan directed his spiritual sense toward the coin. As soon as he touched it, a surge of information flooded into his mind.

Innate Merit Coin—merit—exchange.

The fragmented information was a jumble, but after some careful sorting, Yang Xuan roughly grasped the coin’s use.

It was called the Innate Merit Coin, an innate spiritual treasure. The possessor could use it to exchange merit with the Heavenly Dao for insights into cultivation techniques.

Understanding this, Yang Xuan fell silent in contemplation.

The ability to exchange for cultivation insights—this was an unparalleled weapon. With this and enough merit, he could easily become the strongest among his peers.

As everyone knew, a cultivator’s strength was determined by three things: magical power, magical treasures (including talismans and other external aids), and cultivation techniques.

Among those of the same level, magical power was generally about the same, so it wasn’t a major factor. Thus, in battles between peers, the outcome was most often decided by magical treasures and cultivation techniques.

As for magical treasures, Yang Xuan couldn’t guarantee he had more or better ones than others. But now, with the Innate Merit Coin, his mastery of cultivation techniques would be unrivaled.

He didn’t dare claim he’d be invincible among his peers, but being top-tier was well within reach.

However, despite his hopes for a brighter future, a fatal problem now stared him in the face.

He didn't know how to acquire merit.

As Yang Xuan pondered how to obtain merit, a voice—strained with forced cheer—snapped him back to reality.

“My dear Xuan, it’s such a relief you’re all right.”

The speaker was none other than Lady Yang, his stepmother and the wife of his nominal father.

It had only been a few minutes since he’d left his room, yet Lady Yang had hurried over in a fluster, clearly tipped off by someone. This did not surprise Yang Xuan; as the Lady of Yellow Maple Mountain, bribing a few servants would have been child’s play.

“May the Lord of Heaven and Earth bless you. You know, I’ve been worried sick these past few days…” Lady Yang wore a false smile, her face painted with concern.

Yang Xuan believed her—halfway. The worry was real, but the object of her concern wasn’t him at all, but rather her halfwit son still locked up in the dungeon.

Although he’d been confined to bed these past days, Yang Xuan was far from ignorant of the happenings in the manor. From his maids, he had learned that on the day of the incident, Yang Qian had been severely beaten by the furious patriarch Yang Huaiyun, and even Lady Yang, who tried to intervene, had received a slap.

Perhaps it was genuine anger, or perhaps an example needed to be set for all to see, but Yang Huaiyun had ordered Yang Qian thrown into the dungeon.

If Yang Xuan hadn’t replaced the original and survived, Yang Qian might well have been sentenced to death.

Ever since the Celestial Court launched its campaign of inter-world colonization, countless fief lords had appeared. These fief lords had established nations, sects, and clans beyond number. Over the years, they had developed strict rules for families and sects—and, under ordinary circumstances, these rules were never broken.

To break them was to invite public wrath.

And clearly, Yang Qian had committed just such an offense. To openly seize his elder brother’s possessions and nearly kill him—this was nothing short of attempted murder.

While it was true that, in the pursuit of inheritance, noble scions often stopped at nothing, and many died at the hands of their own kin each year, these acts were always carried out in secret. Someone as brazen as Yang Qian, who acted in broad daylight, was nearly unheard of in Yang Xuan’s memory.