I might be a little strong

Chapter 190 The End of Duckweed
Mao Jiajun was the first group of players to obtain a game helmet. After logging into the game, he was shocked by the authenticity of the mind world. He wasted a few hours aimlessly in the village. When he found that he was hungry, he felt It's not just games.

Players with active thinking have already stolen the food and property in the village and went out to roam the rivers and lakes.

Now, their village has no food...

In the mind world, I also feel the difficulty of survival. In order to survive, I have to pick wild fruits and beg along the way to go to the city. In ancient society, only the city had enough jobs for the proletarians.

Because, the land deed in the village is also gone...

It took two days in the game to finally arrive at Linjiang Mansion. However, the lack of jobs in this era makes it difficult for those without skills to make a living.

even.

Mao Jiajun couldn't enter Linjiang Mansion at all.

As the capital of Wuyue Kingdom, how could Linjiang Mansion let refugees and beggars into the city casually?
When he was queuing up to enter the city, he was kicked out of the queue by the guard guarding the gate, and then shouted: "Get out!"

Without any explanation, the unkempt beggar didn't even need to be interrogated.

Mao Jiajun wanted to say something, but he gave up. He knew very well that going to the city was an extravagant hope under such circumstances. He was used to the difficult life, so he had no choice but to walk aimlessly beside Linjiang Mansion.

It wasn't until it was getting dark that he saw a ruined temple on a small hill.

Entering the temple, he found several pairs of eyes staring at him.

His heart skipped a beat before he said, "Well... I want to stay for one night."

However, the others just turned their heads indifferently, some continued to sleep under a torn blanket, some leaned against a pillar with a knife in their arms, and some gnawed hard steamed buns.

Mao Jiajun hesitated for a moment, then cautiously entered the ruined temple, and found a corner to hide in.

Just like he once huddled in the corner of the park...

"Hey, come over."

The sudden voice behind him startled Mao Jiajun, and then he found that there was still a person in the straw pile behind him. The person lifted the straw, yawned and sat up.

It's just dark now, is he waking up?

The spoiled man who had just woken up looked at Mao Jiajun and said, "Hey, a new face, you look like you, you shouldn't be from the Jianghu?"

"Ah."

Mao Jiajun responded, and then shrank back. The world is dangerous, and he still has a sense of crisis.

This simple and timid look made the man laugh, and he squatted in front of Mao Jiajun quite amusedly, and said, "Hey, tell me, is there a disaster or a war?"

"There is no food in the village, and there is no land."

Mao Jiajun only talked about the result, not the reason. The man clicked his tongue twice and said, "Looking for a living in Jiangfu?"

"Ah."

"Are you hungry?"

"hungry."

"Follow me when you're hungry. My name is Old Tang. People in the world call him the third-handed thief. Come and take you to do some business."

"I……"

"going or not?"

"No, I promised others, I can't steal anything, even..."

Even if it was just a game, when he was in the detention center, Mao Jiajun assured Li He that even if stealing books was not considered stealing, he would never do such a thing again.

Li He did teach him Kung Fu, so he will never steal again.

Seeing Mao Jiajun's insistence, Old Tang sneered, got up and scratched the itch and left. Mao Jiajun felt a little sleepy from hunger, leaned against the corner of the wall and fell asleep at some point.

At dawn the next day, Mao Jiajun woke up slowly listening to the chirping of birds outside.

so hungry...

Never felt that a game was so difficult. Mao Jiajun felt that he might have to live up to the expectations of the curator. The curator gave him his game helmet, but he failed...

"Eat."

A hard object hit his head, and Mao Jiajun froze for a moment, only to realize that it was a cornbread sandwiched with grass roots and sawdust. Looking at Old Tang, who was sitting on the steps of the ruined temple, eating the cornbread, Mao Jiajun hesitated, and picked it up again. I got rid of that wowotou.

He found that in the life of modern society, picking up trash no matter how hard it is, seems to be better than this...

Eating the corn bread with a throat cut, swallowing with difficulty, all the people who stayed in the ruined temple last night were gone, only old Tang was left, did he live here?
"Farm boy, this is what he eats on weekdays."

"You're not used to it."

"In the past few years, Linjiang Mansion has been in good weather, no soldiers, no disasters, and no escapees. You say you are not from the Jianghu, but I see your movement habits, after all, you have practiced it?"

"Tell me, which sect of disciples?"

With his back to Mao Jiajun, Lao Tang asked while eating the cornbread. Mao Jiajun was stunned while eating the cornbread, and didn't know how to answer for a while.

According to the setting in the game, he is indeed a villager in Zao Village...

"I... practiced blindly."

"what!"

Being knocked down by a bun again, Old Tang turned around to look at Mao Jiajun's undisguised appearance, and said, "Really practiced a few moves indiscriminately?"

Speed, strength, and reflexes are not like martial arts practitioners at all.

Not to mention things like internal strength.

In the Jianghu, those who can develop internal strength are the "upper class", and they need to reach the realm of sixth-rank martial arts, while most people in the Jianghu only practice a few strengths and know how to use tricks.

Any martial artist who can enter the first rank, even the ninth rank, is already a master in the eyes of the people at the bottom of the rivers and lakes.

You must be proficient in combat and have evidence to advance and retreat.

An eighth-rank martial artist must be familiar with the moves, and the waist and horse are united. Seventh-rank martial arts must not stick to routines and integrate strength. It is not until the sixth-rank martial arts that there is no such thing as internal strength.

People like Mao Jiajun... are not ranked at all.

It's boring.

Old Tang immediately felt that Mao Jiajun was boring, so he left him alone and ate the last bit of corn bread, then went to his straw nest, grabbed a handful of straw to cover himself, and fell asleep.

Mao Jiajun stood up, rubbed his forehead, looked at Old Tang, but finally remained silent.

He picked up the other bun and hid it in his bosom.

After eating the Wowotou in my hand, I walked more than a mile outside the ruined temple. I saw a small stream. After drinking a few sips of water, I found a big stone beside it and chiseled it for a long time. trough, he carried water back to the ruined temple.

After struggling to place the water-filled stone at the door, Mao Jiajun took a few breaths and then began to stand on the open space outside.

He hasn't practiced since he entered the game, so he can't forget why he entered the game...

(End of this chapter)