Chapter 3: Whole Earth Behind Him
"Huff... Huff..."
It was already bright. As the sun rose, all manners of bugs crawled out from their dark hideouts under soil, grass, and tree bark to start the day gnawing on leaves, hunting, or becoming a feast for birds.
While the chorus of chirping insects and birds filled the forest, Yang Qiu clung onto a tree branch, gasping for air.
His beige shirt and vest, created with magical materials, were naturally still clean and crisp. However, Yang Qiu's skin couldn't be enchanted to self-clean, so blotches of blood covered his forehead, face, and neck.
The struggle with the elder god's tentacle had lasted all night long, and Yang Qiu had lost at least 500 cc of blood...
Had it not been for the fact that his body was nourished by powerful spiritual power, Yang Qiu would have lost much more blood. Fortunately, his suffering hadn't been in vain.
Yang Qiu carefully slid down the huge tree trunk, enduring the throbbing ache in his head. When he reached the ground, he snapped his fingers, and a spatial rift, about the size of a person, opened up.
On the other side of this rift was the familiar scent of Earth.
Yang Qiu didn't know how this elder god's tentacle had been lucky enough to catch a spatial rift that happened to randomly appear on the Earth plane, then anchor itself to him on Earth through the rift. But now that he had absorbed this tentacle, he could serve as an anchor between Earth and the current material plane he was on.
Yang Qiu was in no rush to pass through the rift. Instead, he stared at the spatial rift he "inherited" from the elder god's tentacle and fell into deep thought...
Using massive amounts of information to neutralize the mental corruption of the elder god's tentacle and assimilating it within himself was just a temporary safeguard he had achieved.
He had gained a "tentacle's worth" of rule-based ability, allowing him to use the spatial rift captured by the tentacle to return home, which was a good thing. However, this also meant that a trace of the rule-based elder god's aura lingered in his soul. And he could still be found by that elder god!
How long he could survive depended on when that elder god would recall the existence of an insignificant ant-like existence like Yang Qiu.
Even that mere "tentacle" so insignificant that it probably wouldn't even qualify as an afterthought had nearly "assimilated" him within it. Yang Qiu definitely wasn't overly optimistic as to what would happen if the elder god itself set its sights on him.
Having such a threat hang over his head like the sword of Damocles felt really terrible.
"What should I do..."
Yang Qiu racked his brain trying to think of a solution.
He had struggled so hard to survive in this wretched otherworld when he had been just an ordinary 16-year-old middle school student, and after all he had gone through, Yang Qiu was even less willing to resign himself to such a fate.
"Where there's a will, there's a way. There's surely a solution, I just haven't thought of it yet...
"Right! Anchor point!"
Yang Qiu's eyes lit up.
The method for a spellcaster to resist spiritual pollution was desperately "cultivating oneself." Being an ascetic, traveling and measuring the earth with one's feet—all for tempering one's own spiritual will and turning oneself into an "anchor" of their own.
The advantage Yang Qiu had compared to those indigenous spellcasters was the experience of living on Earth for 16 years where information boomed. All these whisperings mixed within his magic made it so that he wouldn't lose his way that easily.
Whether it was the tentacle or the elder god's gaze, ultimately it would just be an even more massive amount of complex information and a greater form of spiritual corruption.
When Yang Qiu, panicked and at a loss, came to this village back then, the steward who managed the village had the surname Barff. Having returned to this place some three hundred years later, Yang Qiu specifically looked out for the nameplate hanging next to the gate.
Hmm... It’s still Barff. Seems that their family has lived quite well, standing strong without collapsing for so many generations.
The doorman who was brushing a horse in the yard hurried over. When he saw the mage clothes that Yang Qiu was wearing, he immediately took off his worn-out straw hat and greeted respectfully, "Good day, sir. Is there anything I can help you with?"
Yang Qiu glanced at the doorman before casually taking out an item and threw it to him. "Tell Steward Barff that a mage has come to visit."
The young doorman caught the visitor's gift. When he saw what it was, his eyes immediately widened and his breathing became heavy.
"Alright, good sir, please wait a moment!" The young doorman hugged his little gift with joy, gave a bow, and ran toward the house.
What Yang Qiu had thrown to him was a child's cowboy hat which he had picked up while rummaging through the old clothes.
Decades of being on the run made him truly afraid of living in poverty. As long as Yang Qiu saw something that could still be used, he would stuff it into his spatial ring out of habit. This time, an item he had randomly picked up had become useful.
The young doorman came out of the big house after a short while and eagerly waved to Yang Qiu. "This way please, sir!"
Roughly half an hour later, Yang Qiu bid farewell to the enthusiastic doorman and walked out of Steward Barff's yard with his head held high.
The modern textiles that had been "revamped" had been traded for four gold coins.
This world wasn't that backward to the point that there wasn't any organized textile industry. The Kenyan Empire where Yang Qiu lived for a few years before going on the run was full of newly established textile factories owned by emerging nobles.
However, whether there was an organized textile industry or people lacking in clothes were two different things... Technological monopolies and backward road construction and logistics meant that most ordinary civilians in inland countries as well as those well-to-do nobles in rural areas had to save for at least half a year to afford a decent set of formal attire.
The shrewd Steward Barff lowballed numerous times during negotiations, and even gave Yang Qiu the lowest quality and lightest of noble self-minted gold coins, but it didn't matter. It was still gold.
After leaving the village and avoiding the prying eyes of villagers, Yang Qiu "opened the door" and returned to Earth.
It was already afternoon on that magic plane, but back on Earth, the sun had just risen.
Yang Qiu headed straight to the fruit and vegetable wholesale market. The wholesale market was one of the places that opened earliest for business. Of course, Yang Qiu's goal was not the market itself but the small gold shops run by private individuals around the market.
He entered a gold shop and took out the noble self-minted gold coins under the owner's avaricious gaze.
After some bargaining, Yang Qiu exchanged the four gold coins for slightly over eight thousand yuan... He was mercilessly ripped off by the shop owner.
Nevertheless, Yang Qiu didn't mind as his goal wasn't to be a profiteer but to gain some operating capital.
Money, even a small amount, made it easier to get things done. Yang Qiu requested for a cash exchange, and after getting the money, stuffed it into his pocket and left the shop. Then he made his way toward the internet cafe he used to frequent before his transmigration.
That's right, Yang Qiu didn't have an ID right now. And even if he did, with his current appearance, showing the ID of 16-year-old Yang Qiu would definitely result in the internet cafe owner calling the police immediately.
But, of course, that didn't mean he couldn't access the Internet without an ID.
Yang Qiu confidently walked into the internet cafe, scanned the place, and located the special corner that the "internet cafe gods" used. Then he went over and nudged the one that reeked most awake.
The selected "internet cafe god" with a scruffy beard but a much rounder face than Yang Qiu's opened his eyes groggily.
"Bro, I need to get online to deal with an urgent matter but forgot to bring my ID card. Can you help me get a computer?" Yang Qiu flashed a friendly smile as he handed over a red banknote.
The drowsy "internet cafe god" instantly woke up.