You've only been cultivating for a few years, and you're already talking about cultivating

Even the white fox sensed that something was wrong with this world, so how could Qi Fei not feel it?

There are too many things that don't seem right.

First and foremost, there's braised duck!

A few years ago, someone came to see him.

She was a beauty, an extremely beautiful woman.

"Have you ever rescued a white fox on the snowy mountain?" the man asked.

Qi Fei thought for a moment, nodded, and asked with some anticipation, "You saved me. Are you that white fox?"

A white fox repaying a debt of gratitude—what a thought-provoking story!

The beauty's expression changed, and she said resentfully, "No, I'm not a white fox. I'm braised duck."

"The day you saved the white fox, you ate a braised duck."

Qi Fei was stunned for a moment.

On the day he encountered the injured white fox, he did indeed eat a braised duck.

Qi Fei looked at her and said, "Then you..."

The beauty transformed into a giant braised duck. It was half a person's height, entirely dark brown, and glistening with oil.

The braised duck, with a loud, clattering laugh, said, "I've come for revenge."

"Wait!" Qi Fei suddenly stopped it, saying, "You've come to seek revenge on me? Why do you want revenge?"

The braised duck said, "Because you ate me."

Qi Fei then asked, "Then why don't you find the person who killed you and turned you into braised duck? You couldn't have been born a braised duck, could you?"

The braised duck was completely stunned.

It wasn't born as braised duck.

It is a duck. A living duck that swims in the pond, pecks at food on the bank, and molts in the fall.

Someone caught it, killed it, plucked its feathers, gutted it, marinated it in sauce, dried it, and made it into a braised duck.

Then it gets bought, held close to someone's heart, and eaten piece by piece.

The person who killed it and made it into braised duck was not Qi Fei.

Who is it? Why is it looking for Qi Fei? Who should it be looking for?

These questions are too complicated for it.

Its brain is a lump of paste, a paste that has been marinated in sauce and dried in the wind.

It only knew one thing: it was coming to seek revenge on Qi Fei!

"It was you," it said, its voice hardening again. "You're the one who ate me."

It pounced towards Qi Fei.

Qi Fei took a step back, dodged to the side, and pulled a knife from behind the door.

It was a cleaver, with a thick, heavy blade, and it fit perfectly in my hand.

His body moved faster than his mind; before he could even think, his hand had already struck the knife.

Click.

The first cut was made on the duck's neck.

Click click.

Two more cuts. Scapula, ribs—each cut precise and swift.

With a few swift cuts, Qi Fei chopped the braised duck into chunks of duck meat.

He couldn't help but say, "I've worked in Nanjing before, I've even done things like butchering ducks!"

He did indeed spend time in Nanjing.

Nanjing is most famous not for its braised duck, but for its salted duck and roast duck.

The people of Nanjing are masters at chopping duck. They place the whole duck on the cutting board, and with a few swift strokes of the knife, the meat and bones are separated, and the duck is neatly arranged. It's a pleasure to watch.

Qi Fei had also been killed.

No duck can escape the knife of Nanjing people; Nanjing people are absolutely not afraid of braised duck!

But... where is Nanjing?

Qi Fei stood in the middle of the room, holding a knife, staring blankly at the braised duck on the ground.

Where is Nanjing?

He couldn't remember either.

Forget it.

He shook his head, put away the knife, and squatted down to pick up the pieces of duck meat from the ground one by one.

They came again the next day.

It's still that same braised duck, and the same line, "I'm here for revenge."

Qi Fei looked at it, sighed, and pulled out the cleaver from behind the door. With a few quick snips, the duck meat was returned to the jar.

On the third day, they came again. On the fourth day, the fifth day, the sixth day... they came every day.

It can't be killed. Chopped into pieces today, it's standing neatly in front of the door again tomorrow. Can such a world be right?

So, he used the leftover braised duck to open a workshop.

Then, time flew by, like a dream!

Whatever he wants, he gets.

He wanted to expand his workshop, so the workshop grew larger; he needed manpower, so manpower came.

At the same time, the women who came to repay their kindness also arrived.

"I am a white fox, here to repay a debt of gratitude."

They stood at the door, one after another, saying the same things and looking at him with the same eyes.

Some wore red, some wore green, some were plain, some were brightly colored, but their tone and expression were as if they were all made from the same mold.

Qi Fei couldn't tell which one was the real white fox, and he couldn't even tell if he had ever saved a white fox.

That memory is separated by a layer; you can see the outline, but not the details.

He only remembered the snow and an injured fox, but was it real, or was it something he dreamed about?

He simply gave up on thinking about it.

"Working is the best way to repay kindness," Qi Fei told each woman who called herself White Fox. "Working in my workshop is the best way to repay kindness."

Some of them stayed, and some left. Those who stayed were assigned to dyeing workshops, weaving workshops, and garment workshops, each with their own specific tasks.

Qi Fei's workshops grew larger and larger, from one to ten, and from ten to dozens, spreading throughout the county town, the prefectural city, and even further afield.

As he walked the streets, people everywhere called him "Master Qi." When he sat in his main room, shopkeepers from all over lined up to see him.

Soon, he had everything: money, shops, manpower, fame... whatever he wanted, he got.

But he felt something was wrong.

These things come too easily, making them seem unreal.

I still come here every day for braised duck.

But it has changed.

It no longer comes empty-handed.

One day, it appeared at the door with a knife in its hand. The knife was not long, but the blade was very bright, gleaming coldly under the lamp.

It stood outside the threshold, knife in hand, its expression unchanged.

Hatred, a righteous and unyielding hatred. As if it had an irreconcilable feud with Qi Fei!

"I'm here for revenge," it said, gripping its knife.

Qi Fei looked at the knife in its hand without saying a word.

"This time it's different." The braised duck raised its knife and walked towards him, its steps slow but steady. "I have a knife now."

Qi Fei turned and went into the inner room.

The braised duck hesitated for a moment, standing in the main room, knife in hand, unsure whether to follow. It waited a while, and just as it was about to step in, Qi Fei came out from the inner room.

He was holding a musket in his hand.

The musket was long and dark, with the muzzle pointed at the chest of the braised duck.

The braised duck had never seen this before, but it instinctively felt something was wrong. It stopped in its tracks, its knife raised in mid-air, unsure whether to drop it or not.

"You've worked so hard to open so many workshops," it asked, "just for this?"

Qi Fei didn't answer. He opened so many workshops just for this day!

He knew it would come again. It would come every day, with a knife, with a sword, and with its indestructible hatred.

It will grow stronger and stronger, and it will wield increasingly powerful weapons. And he, too, must grow stronger and stronger.

Swords and blades are outdated!

Qi Fei pulled the trigger.

"Bang!"

In this strange world, only the gun in your hand is real!