John Smith is, after all, a person of supervisor rank—how could he possibly be willing to let his life be held in someone else’s hands, to be used by a woman as a tool for spreading plague? While the master and disciple over there were temporarily ignoring him, John Smith quietly pondered a strategy to regain the initiative.

His gaze fell on that set of counting rods. Actually, this seemed like a feasible entry point? Looking at those strange wooden sticks, he couldn’t help but want to complain. Such simple addition and subtraction—if you can’t do it in your head, that’s already pretty dumb. Even if you need a tool, at least use an abacus! What’s with the counting rods? These women are formidable in martial prowess, but it seems their education isn’t much to speak of...

Well, that makes sense. Whether this is a wuxia world or a fantasy world, it’s clearly a world where strength rules—so-called “might makes right,” right? As a modern person, why compete with them in martial arts, endlessly grinding and cultivating? Isn’t that abandoning your strengths and using your weaknesses to challenge the natives’ strengths? What’s the point...

From the way they calculated profits and losses, it’s clear they also need food, clothing, shelter, and transportation, and care about the development of their sect. They’re not reclusive immortals, nor are they solely obsessed with longevity. So, in a society like this, a modern person still has plenty of room to maneuver...

As he was pondering, the young girl Lily suddenly exclaimed, “It really is one thousand six hundred and sixty-one taels!!”

The young woman’s eyes also showed some surprise. She turned to look at John Smith, her expression now carrying a bit more respect for someone with real ability, no longer the look she’d given an ant before. John Smith met her gaze calmly and smiled slightly. “If, madam, developing your sect is more important than spreading plague, perhaps I can be of far more use than you imagine.”

Chapter Three: So-called Spring and Autumn

Of course, no one would just bow down to John Smith because of a boastful remark. The young woman merely smiled faintly. “There’s no need to trouble yourself with developing the sect. But you, sir, are quite suited to be a bookkeeper. Lily, arrange a carriage for the gentleman and give him some medicine for his injuries.”

John Smith was a bit speechless. So no one had bothered to treat his injuries before—no wonder he was still in pain all over. Come to think of it, lying in her carriage was just so he could be questioned as soon as he woke up. If he couldn’t give a satisfactory answer, they’d probably just kill him outright. Who would waste effort treating your wounds?

At least this time they were willing to treat him and even arranged a carriage for him to stay in. Whether they wanted him as a bookkeeper or for something else, at least he was settled for now.

Transferred to a much more ordinary carriage, John Smith leaned against the wall of the compartment and let out a long sigh. The pressure in front of that young woman, whose very gaze could kill, was really intense, but the flat-chested girl of thirteen or fourteen before him now made things feel much more relaxed.

Lily grinned and tossed over two bottles. “The white one is for healing—just take one pill, and after a good sleep you’ll be fine. The red one is to temporarily suppress the poison so it doesn’t leak out. Don’t make us have to circulate our energy and hold our breath around you all the time. Each pill lasts twelve hours—remember to take one every day.”

“Thanks.” Without another word, John Smith opened both bottles and took one pill from each. After all, if they wanted to kill him, it would be far too easy—no need to mess with the medicine. The two pills melted instantly in his mouth, and in a flash, a cool sensation spread through his entire body. The intense pain seemed to vanish almost completely in an instant. John Smith looked at the bottles in his hand in surprise, once again feeling that something was off about this world... What kind of medicine works this fast? It’s just not scientific.

Well... since transmigration has already happened, there’s no point talking about science anymore. John Smith gave the girl what he thought was a very gentlemanly smile. “Still, I must thank you and your master for saving my life. My name is John Smith. May I ask how I should address you, miss?”

The girl smiled too. “That self-satisfied smile of yours is pretty annoying. By the way, I still want to dig out your eyeballs. I wonder if you can still be a bookkeeper if you’re blind?”

John Smith’s smile instantly turned bitter. “...Of course not.”

The girl propped her rosy cheek on her hand, looking John Smith up and down as if observing some kind of miracle. “You’re pretty bold—not only did you look at me, you even looked at my master... It’s really not easy to still be alive and kicking.”

John Smith finally understood why she wanted to dig out his eyes. He said helplessly, “I didn’t see anything. It was so dark, and I fell so fast—I’m not a god, how could I have seen anything at that moment?”

“You still saw something white and bare, didn’t you? To me, that means you saw me.”

“Can’t you be reasonable?”

“Nope.” The girl smiled sweetly. “If you tell me your story, maybe I’ll let you off.”

Seeing her charming and adorable smile, John Smith felt that although her words sounded fierce, she didn’t actually seem malicious. He smiled and said, “I was soaked in a vat of poison since I was a child. Why I didn’t die, I have no idea.”

“There are thousands of sects and schools of cultivation in this world—clearly, I can’t know them all.” The girl sighed in a very mature way, then pointed at John Smith’s short hair and then at his clothes. “But monks and poison—those are hard to connect. What sect does that strange kasaya represent?”