Volume Two: Taking on a Task Chapter Six: Accepting a Mission

Chen Chen, carrying a trace of weariness, fell into a deep sleep atop a tree.

In his dream, he found himself picking two red fruits from the very tree he had once longed for.

Not far along the path, a macaque leapt onto the tree, shaking down a few more fruits for Chen Chen to gather and eat on the way.

In the dream, Chen Chen waved his hand, signaling some beings that once dwelled at the ghostly gates of the underworld to come and collect the fruits. Once they had gathered enough and regained their strength, they could travel far and leave the mountain together.

In this dream, Chen Chen was filled with profound affection. Upon waking, tears moistened his eyes. In this vast and desolate world, who could truly preserve such precious memories? This journey was his, Chen Chen’s, yet perhaps he was no longer the same as before.

When the dream ended, who was Chen Chen now?

He could recognize flowers and herbs, understand plants, discern words and gauge emotions.

Life’s journey is long and arduous.

Sometimes, even drinking plain water—the water that has traveled a thousand miles—can bring joy.

That water ultimately becomes a cup of happiness, a quenching relief for many.

Chen Chen must continue living, carrying hope along the way.

“A cup of water still holds value; how much more must a person contribute so as not to be seen as a wasted life?”

Though skilled in identifying flora, Chen Chen’s true intention was not just to appreciate nature. He hoped that one day he could put his knowledge to practical use. One idea was to rely on this accumulated understanding to step out of the deep mountains onto a grander stage, to live better or to obtain what he truly desired.

Fame, wealth, recognition, flowers, or applause.

Unconsciously, his path led him to the edge of the mountains.

Beyond the mountains lay bustling activity—voices of buying and selling, all striving for a richer and better life.

At the crossroads, Chen Chen saw a group wielding influence, posting tasks under a signboard.

He still believed in his own worth, yet after mighty battles and being invincible, he often found himself nursing wounds in solitude.

Chen Chen noticed a task: in the forest lurked a robust wild boar, one that could be captured and served as a delicacy.

There was a bounty—success would make life manageable.

At the very least, it would buy new clothes and some travel funds.

Without hesitation, Chen Chen accepted the task, intrigued, and ventured into the forest.

In his previous life, Chen Chen possessed the Supreme Fate Technique, but now his strength was greatly diminished, unable to fully manifest.

Bound by the era of the fading Dharma and the current celestial laws, what he had left was pure physical power, the strength of a man.

Using his innate might, combined with a touch of Daoist essence, he believed he could handle the task.

The things Chen Chen needed were not cheap. Traveling the world with only the clothes on his back was inconvenient.

Having one or two changes of clothes on hand would mark an improvement in his life.

With this in mind, Chen Chen entered the forest, receiving two taels of silver from the task issuer as a stipend before setting off.

Holding the silver, Chen Chen felt as though he were in a different world.

He vaguely recalled someone once giving him two taels of silver as travel money.

Though that memory was hazy and intangible, the silver he now held was cherished like treasure.

Where the silver came from mattered little.

What mattered most was that for these two taels, or the remaining eight he was owed, he was prepared to risk life and limb.

To labor and endure hardship for earned wealth—he accepted that willingly.

Not far into the forest, Chen Chen sensed the wild boar’s presence.

Reclining on a makeshift chair of unknown origin, someone nearby sipped a drink, displaying a hint of smugness.

Chen Chen was truly enlightened this time—the boar was unlike any other. He knew a life-or-death duel awaited.

But this duel, like a boxing match, had spectators cheering on.

Chen Chen had to show some style. Both parties chose an open clearing, readying themselves.

The boar was fierce and robust from years of foraging, its inner frenzy barely contained as it charged toward Chen Chen.

Determined not to reveal too much power, Chen Chen engaged in a pure contest of strength, like a gladiator in the arena facing off with a bull.

The boar’s eyes had reddened with rage. Chen Chen did not back down, locking gazes, prepared for the fight.

The boar launched its attack, legs coiled, rushing straight at Chen Chen.

With a shout, Chen Chen dodged narrowly, twisting his body just so to evade the strike.

The boar grew more ferocious. Missing its mark reignited long-suppressed fury.

Chen Chen’s eyes followed the boar’s movements, shifting slightly.

The boar’s two sharp tusks gleamed menacingly, cutting the air with palpable sharpness.

Chen Chen planted his feet firmly, assuming a stance.

The enraged boar came roaring forward.

Chen Chen steadied his posture, hands floating gracefully as the boar closed in.

At the crucial moment, he grasped the boar’s two tusks, lifting and twisting with its momentum, redirecting the force along the boar’s forward charge, neutralizing its attack.

The boar’s momentum carried it forward, but Chen Chen’s move sent it flying off balance, a masterful use of leverage.

Compared to relying solely on divine power, this battle of pure physical might was eye-opening. Though the boar momentarily gained the upper hand, its years of strength persisted—it was not ready to die.

The boar bellowed loudly, as if calling a brief respite.

Chen Chen welcomed the break; mastering this leverage technique took time.

After both sides rested, the boar surged again, seemingly with a new strategy—to strike Chen Chen down and claim his soul upon its tusks.

Nearby, a man in black finally gathered closer, joining the spectators.

Even those offering drinks to the boar showed fleeting expressions of complexity, their thoughts unknown.

Chen Chen aimed to finish swiftly, to leave this wild mountain forest with some travel money and hope, heading to the next destination.

The boar charged once more.

This time, Chen Chen exerted more strength, bringing the beast down again.

However, the boar no longer wished to rise.

Without hesitation, Chen Chen, with the help of two task assessors, collected the remaining eight taels of silver and turned away.

As he departed, an old woman hurried past him, seemingly settling a long-standing grudge by delivering a final stab to the boar.

That year, that grudge, was finally laid to rest.

Chen Chen left; the old woman, after striking the boar, departed with less hatred.

The task mediators took the boar away, seemingly with a purpose.

Later, it was said the boar became someone’s feast.

Others claimed the boar was spared due to widespread audience acclaim during the fight.

As for the mediators, they continued posting tasks.

Only these tasks seemed tied to unresolved grudges.

In the world of wandering souls, how could there be no grudges?

For power and women, chasing fame and fortune, where have grievances ever been few?