"Boss, warm me a bowl of wine and bring me a plate of fried peanuts."
The door of the small tavern was pushed open, and the cold wind mixed with countless sand and snow blew in.
The drinkers raised their hands to block the wind and snow. When they saw who had entered, the small tavern immediately erupted into a burst of mocking laughter.
"The cripple, here to drink again?"
"How much did you earn playing the suona today? Can you even afford a bowl of wine?"
"The cripple…"
Amid the mocking laughter, Chen Fan limped his way to the counter, using a crutch to support himself.
He reached into his pocket, pulled out a few copper coins, and laid them neatly on the table.
The innkeeper collected the coins, then took one out and handed it back to Chen Fan.
"It's cold, consider the peanuts on the house."
"Thank you."
Chen Fan accepted the coin, sat at an empty table, placed his crutch by his side, and then took a brass suona from his waist, casually setting it on the table.
While he waited for his wine, the surrounding drinkers, having nothing better to do, began to tease Chen Fan.
"Cripple, how about you play Hundred Birds Paying Homage to the Phoenix? I'll buy you another bowl of wine if you do."
Chen Fan shook his head.
"That's not possible. It's either red or white—can't play it recklessly."
At this, laughter filled the small tavern.
"Since you've brought your suona, why not play a tune?"
Unable to resist the crowd's heckling, Chen Fan, amidst the laughter, picked up his brass suona.
A melodious yet piercing tune instantly filled the small tavern.
The music brought some life to the little tavern, dispelling the gloomy atmosphere that had been hanging in the air.
Ding-dong~
[Today's task: Play the suona for one hour. Task completed.]
[Congratulations, host. Lifespan increased by one day. Experience points +100.]
Chen Fan put down the suona as the system's notification suddenly echoed in his mind.
At this, he sighed.
A year ago, during a similarly harsh winter, Chen Fan had transmigrated into this world of immortal cultivation and activated this utterly useless system.
Alone and destitute, carrying nothing but a suona through deep snow, Chen Fan nearly froze to death.
It was the tavern's owner who had given him a bowl of warm wine and a steaming hot bun, helping him survive that bitter winter.
Since then, Chen Fan had developed a habit.
Whether he had money or not, he would come to this tavern during his free time to sit for a while.
If someone asked to hear the suona, he would play a tune in exchange for some wine money.
"Here's your wine."
As he was thinking, a young woman with fair skin and a graceful figure brought over two bowls of hot wine and placed them on his table.
"Mr. Chen, take your time. Be careful, it's hot."
Her surname was Wen, the daughter of the tavern owner. She was born with delicate features and had been a beauty since childhood. When she smiled, two shallow dimples would appear at the corners of her mouth.
Most of the young men who frequented the tavern came because of her.
Chen Fan gave a slight nod and took the bowl of wine.
"Thank you."
The bitter wine warmed his throat and his heart. In the bone-chilling winter, a bowl of hot wine was worth more than anything else.
After finishing one bowl, Chen Fan put the bowl down.
Just as he was about to eat a peanut and start on the second bowl, a yellow-haired thug suddenly burst into the tavern.
He spotted Chen Fan's table, walked over without a word, and grabbed the remaining bowl of wine.
Gulp, gulp, gulp, he downed it in one go.
Chen Fan's hand, which was reaching for a peanut, froze midair as he stared in surprise at the newcomer.
The other drinkers couldn't stand it and started criticizing the yellow-haired thug:
"Er Biao, it's one thing to act like a scoundrel usually, but bullying a cripple? Really?"
Er Biao immediately turned his head, glaring at the speaker.
"What's it to you? Think you're some kind of hero? What, do you taste dog shit when you see it on the street to check how salty it is?"
After this outburst, Er Biao still seemed unsatisfied. He glanced around and spotted the suona on the table.
He shuddered involuntarily, a flicker of fear in his eyes.
This was Chen Fan's livelihood. He didn't dare touch it. Once, he had tried to steal it to sell for money, but Chen Fan had caught him.
The result? Chen Fan, like a mad dog, had dragged him onto the street and cursed him out for an entire afternoon.
Since then, neither Er Biao nor anyone else dared to lay a finger on the suona.
It was the cripple's reverse scale.
Instead, Er Biao turned his attention to Chen Fan's crutch. He snatched it up and arrogantly tilted his head at Chen Fan, a taunting look in his eyes.
The people around wanted to intervene but dared not.
Er Biao was infamous in Maplewood Town, a known troublemaker who spent his days idling and causing petty mischief. He was the kind of guy even stray dogs avoided, lest they provoke him into starting a fight.
"Give me back my crutch."
Chen Fan, unperturbed, put down his chopsticks and looked directly at Er Biao.
Er Biao snorted.
"Don't you know how to say 'please' when asking for something?"
"Fine. Please return my crutch."
Er Biao: ?
Seeing Er Biao still motionless, a hint of impatience flashed in Chen Fan's eyes.
His blood surged, and it felt as though some unseen energy inside him began to stir, aimlessly bouncing around like a headless fly.
Ding. Body Refinement Technique: 10%. Warning: Host's current proficiency is insufficient. Please use caution.
Just as Chen Fan was about to lose his temper—
"Er Biao, if you don't leave, I'll have my father call the constable."
It was Miss Wen, standing with one hand on her hip, stepping out from the inner door.
At the sight of her, Er Biao's arrogance dissipated significantly. He forced a laugh, his smile tinged with lewdness.
He tossed the crutch back onto the table, shot Chen Fan a glare, and spat:
"You're lucky this time."
With that, he turned and left.
Miss Wen picked up the crutch from the table and handed it back to Chen Fan.
"Stay a bit longer before leaving. Avoid him; he's nothing but trouble."
Chen Fan nodded and sat back down.
Not long after, Miss Wen returned with another bowl of warm wine.
"This one's on me. It's freezing outside—drink another bowl to warm up."
"Thank you, Miss Wen."
Chen Fan raised the bowl and drank it all in one go.
Then, using his crutch to support himself, he stood up, ready to leave.
Before leaving, he scooped some peanuts from the untouched plate into his pocket.
As Chen Fan opened the tavern door, a gust of wind and snow howled in.
"Mr. Chen, take care."
The wind and snow were so loud that it was unclear if Miss Wen's farewell reached Chen Fan's ears.
Regardless, Chen Fan pulled his thin coat tighter around him and limped his way into the snowy distance.
As he left, the tavern returned to its usual gloom.
Without the cripple, the drinkers no longer had anyone to mock.
...
In the farthest corner of Maplewood Town stood an old, decrepit temple, long abandoned. The wind whistling through its broken tiles made a rattling noise, as if the whole structure was about to collapse.
This was Chen Fan's current residence. The floor was covered with a thin layer of straw, resembling a dog's nest.
In fact, it had been a dog's nest—one Chen Fan had fought a stray dog for when he first arrived.
Thinking back on it now, he still felt a bit proud of himself.
As the long night stretched on, Chen Fan nibbled on peanuts, hoping for pleasant dreams tonight.
Closing his eyes, he slowly began circulating the Body Refinement Technique.
A system notification echoed in his mind:
[Host: Chen Fan, Age: 21]
[Lifespan: 79 years, Cultivation Level: Mortal]
[Skills: Body Refinement Technique (10%)]
[Experience Points: 1500/10000]
Thanks to the system's initial gift of the Body Refinement Technique, which strengthened his body and bones, Chen Fan had managed to survive this harsh winter unscathed.
Only in moments like this did he remember that he had transmigrated into a world of cultivation.
Maplewood Town was an ordinary mortal town, devoid of any real cultivation methods. Occasionally, an immortal would streak across the sky, and Chen Fan would lift his head, staring for a long time.
Afterward, he would glance at his crippled leg.
He knew he would probably never leave Maplewood Town in this lifetime.
Unlike other transmigrators, he didn't dare dream of cutting through the mortal world with a sword, singing songs of glory.