Focusing his attention entirely on the ring adorning his finger, Ye Wen quickly uncovered a far more critical issue: he had no control over neijia (internal energy).

He didn't even know if his current body possessed any internal energy at all. After all, the theory that the ring absorbed internal energy was just his own speculation—it might be completely wrong.

“Damn it, what was the trigger just now?”

Carefully retracing his steps to recall how he had successfully ‘summoned’ that manual, Ye Wen tried to replicate everything he had just done.

“Clenching my fist hard?” After a moment of intense recollection, Ye Wen remembered that at the exact instant he clenched his fist with all his might, the ring suddenly absorbed something through the point of contact, and then the manual detailing the sword technique materialized before him.

Fixing his focus on his left fist, Ye Wen began to squeeze. He felt as if he were exerting every ounce of strength he possessed, yet the ring remained utterly unresponsive.

His left hand ached severely after the sustained effort, and the second ‘summoning’ failed, leaving Ye Wen profoundly frustrated.

However, this string of failures only ignited Ye Wen’s stubborn streak. From childhood, Ye Wen had possessed a truly obstinate nature, the kind that refused to turn back even after crashing headlong into a wall. Thus, he didn't choose to give up. Instead, he removed the ring from his weary left hand and fitted it onto the index finger of his right hand, which showed no unusual reaction.

Then, he resumed the ‘foolish’ pursuit that felt like a contest of wills against himself… Indeed, any outsider observing him in that state would hardly find his actions intelligent; ‘foolish’ would likely be the mildest term among all negative descriptors.

The night slowly slipped away, and Ye Wen, locked in this silent battle of wills between himself and his own fist upon his sleeping pallet, eventually drifted into slumber unknowingly.

His physical condition was far from ideal. The energy Ye Wen possessed upon waking, despite having only recently recovered from a severe injury, stemmed from two sources: his deep-seated insecurity about his sudden transmigration and the sheer excitement of having a legendary event unfold upon his own person.

Now that he was mostly certain he was safe for the time being, the initial wave of excitement subsided, and he quickly sank into a deep, restful sleep.

He slept straight through until the following afternoon. The sole reason for his waking was hunger; he had taken no sustenance during his two days of unconsciousness, and the string of unexpected events after waking yesterday had made him forget to eat. Otherwise, he might have slept straight through until nightfall.

Opening his eyes, the first thing Ye Wen saw was a large bowl sitting on the table. Leaning up, he could see that the bowl was filled with rice porridge.

Though it appeared exceedingly bland, lacking any hint of fat or savory broth, to the ravenously hungry Ye Wen, this bowl of rice porridge held a restorative power almost equal to the finest delicacies.

He slid off the pallet, rubbing his still slightly aching chest, and walked over, downing the entire bowl of porridge in a few swift gulps.

With something in his stomach, he immediately felt significantly better, and his mind began to function normally again.

“This porridge is almost cold; it must have been left here for a while.”

He had a basic certainty about the current season. Even if summer hadn't fully bloomed, it wasn't far off. The room temperature wasn't low, meaning a bowl of hot porridge would have cooled considerably after sitting out for some time.

“It seems my cheap junior sister really doesn't hold me in high regard. She sends a bowl of porridge and then washes her hands of me… I might die in this room, and she wouldn’t notice immediately.”

Muttering these thoughts, Ye Wen quickly realized he had no right to complain. Since he had decided to treat that person as a stranger, he couldn't expect her to treat him kindly.

“Still, she gave me a bowl of to drink.”

Thinking that way brought him considerable relief. However, his weak body prevented any movement, making him terribly bored. After sitting for a while, he unconsciously formed his fingers into a sword shape and began practicing the Duoming Lianhuan San Xian Jian (Life-Snatching Triple Immortal Sword) he had committed to memory the night before, fearing he would forget it entirely if too much time passed.

He went through the motions a dozen times, gradually gaining some insight into this sword technique. Ye Wen even felt a warm current begin to circulate continuously inside his arm as he repeated the drill.

That sensation, like flowing water moving within his limb, felt somewhat pleasant, even generating a slight heat that caused a few beads of sweat to break out on his forehead.

Closing his eyes to concentrate on the movement of the warm current in his arm, Ye Wen suddenly snapped his eyes open shortly after. He stared, utterly astonished, at his right hand.

More specifically, he was staring at the ring of unknown material adorning the index finger of his right hand.

“Was that an illusion?”

He murmured softly, then closed his eyes again, recalling everything that had just happened. Finally, he confirmed with certainty that the sound he had heard moments ago was no phantom.

“Summoning ability has been used once this month; further use is unavailable.”

Opening his eyes again, he vigorously swung his left hand.

“Nice.”

Just then, his cheap junior sister walked in. Dressed in tight-fitting martial attire, she carried her sword, and the glistening sweat on her forehead indicated that the young swordswoman had likely been training.

The moment she pushed the door open, she was startled by her senior brother’s sudden exclamation, but quickly recovering her composure, she frowned and offered a greeting: “Martial Brother Sect Leader, you’re awake? How do you feel?”

Then, her gaze flickered to the empty bowl on the table. Coupled with her senior brother’s seemingly energetic demeanor, she reached a conclusion: “It seems Martial Brother has recovered well. In that case, we don't need to stay here any longer.”

“Huh? Why?” Ye Wen was about to ask where they would go if not here, but he immediately noticed Ning Ruxue’s brow, tightly furrowed and unmoving.

He instantly guessed that his junior sister was running low on money. She probably knew that even if he hadn't fully recovered, they would have to leave the inn soon.

Understanding her predicament, he stopped asking about leaving. Instead, he inquired when they planned to depart.

“Tomorrow morning. It’s already quite late today.”

Ning Ruxue knew it was too late to leave that day. Even if they vacated the room, finding suitable lodging on short notice would be difficult. That would inevitably mean sleeping rough on the streets or in the desolate wilderness.

For seasoned martial folk, this wasn't a huge matter, but the issue was that her senior brother was still injured, making exposure to the elements unsuitable.

However, the few copper coins she possessed were nearly exhausted. Now that they were without a sect, they had effectively lost all income. While the Shushan Sect hadn't possessed vast assets before, they could at least afford a full meal. Now, all that vanished like smoke following his senior brother's crushing defeat.

It could be said that the small sum of money she held was their entire remaining savings, and even with strict frugality, it wouldn't last more than a few days.

Perhaps seeing his junior sister’s difficulty, Ye Wen felt he should help shoulder the burden, as they were now in the same boat.

Or perhaps it was because Ye Wen was a newcomer who hadn't helped at all and had only caused trouble, making him feel slightly guilty; or perhaps a surge of masculine pride compelled him—so he decisively resolved to move out of the inn today. Every night of lodging saved was money kept, as he knew they were depending on that small fund to survive.

“Then let’s leave after we eat dinner…” Ye Wen’s reaction greatly surprised Ning Ruxue. She hadn't expected her previously meek and ineffectual senior brother to display a flicker of manliness at a time like this.

“No, I imagine things at the inn aren't cheap. Let’s pack up and go now. We can just buy something cheap to fill our stomachs then.”

Since the decision was made, there was no need to dawdle; procrastination was not Ye Wen’s style. He didn't know what personality or habits the original owner of this body possessed, nor was he interested in finding out. Since he was already feigning amnesia, a complete change in temperament wasn't a major concern.

They packed quickly; in truth, there wasn't much to pack: a set of clothes, a small bag holding one volume of Shushan Sect scripture and some change of clothes, and finally, a long sword.

Beyond those items, there was nothing extra. Even Ning Ruxue was similarly equipped; her clothes, though clean, were clearly well-worn hand-me-downs.

Their appearance was decidedly impoverished, making Ye Wen shake his head repeatedly: “This Shushan Sect is truly pathetic. There’s hardly any reason for it to continue existing.”

After gathering his meager possessions, Ye Wen patted his chest again. Besides the lingering ache, the manual of sword techniques was tucked close to his body. This item was his treasure, requiring meticulous care.

Aside from the danger of theft, this manual represented his greatest reliance for survival in this new world.

Consider it: a magical ring that could summon martial arts techniques. Although it had succeeded only once, and he wasn't sure if he could summon better or more powerful techniques later, the information gleaned suggested it could be used once a month. Even if he summoned just one valuable technique per year, it was a monumental stroke of fortune.

If he accidentally summoned the manual for some peerless divine art, wouldn’t he be able to do as he pleased thereafter? At that point, not only would the vast world of martial arts, which merely included the small Shushan Sect, be within reach, but perhaps even unifying the jianghu (martial world) wouldn’t be impossible.

Of course, he absolutely would not cultivate that legendary tome; he wouldn't practice it even if he did summon it.

While Ye Wen was silently lost in these musings, Ning Ruxue had already purchased some flatbreads and a piece of cured meat, filled their water skin with clear water, and led Ye Wen toward the edge of the city.

It was only then that Ye Wen realized he had been staying at an inn in Shuxian County for the past two days. Now, the two of them were clearly walking outside the city gates, soon arriving at a rather desolate stretch of land.

Perhaps remembering that her senior brother had forgotten much, Ning Ruxue provided an explanation for their destination on the way: “Not far ahead, there’s a dilapidated monastery. Though messy, it offers shelter from the wind and rain. Tonight, the two of us can make do there, and we can search for proper lodging tomorrow during the day.”

As she spoke, the ruined temple came into view. However, the flicker of firelight leaking through the broken walls suggested that others already occupied the place.