‘The future is crap!’ Aotian stared desolately at the small change of clothes in his hands. His only belongings.

Six days had passed since he began training with his compiled martial arts manual. The progress had been quick, thanks to being the creator of the manual and his vast experience gained through the avatars.

But faster than his progress in martial arts was the dwindling of the coins in his purse.

‘I declare… BANKRUPTCYYYY!’ Aotian shouted in his mind, a mix of bitterness and sarcasm.

Standing in front of the dilapidated building he had called home for a month, he felt a lump in his throat. The walls were stained with moisture, and some tiles threatened to collapse at any moment.

‘My dear home! How can I live without you!’ Aotian mentally exaggerated his feelings, almost kneeling in front of the old building.

Then, he looked at the deflated purse that seemed almost empty on his waist and the worn clothes in his hands.

‘Only 10 copper coins left and these old clothes… If I want food and a roof to train under, I need money. But how do I get it?’ Aotian bit his nails in distress.

‘Steal from the rich to give to the poor? … Poor, in this case, me.’ He shook his head. ‘No… too dangerous. My avatars have power, but me? I’m a chicken.’

Aotian then began walking through the streets of the city, dodging hurried pedestrians as he dismissed crazy ideas.

‘Sell myself as a slave? No, not worth it… Hunt beasts in the mountains? Hah! I’d rather not become a snack… Farmer? No land, I’d starve before harvesting anything.’

As he walked, his eyes landed on a luxurious building. The facade was adorned with elegantly carved wooden plaques, displaying hand-painted characters with majestic calligraphy. Richly dressed people entered and exited. At the top, it read: Wubao Pavilion.

‘Wubao Pavilion… That’s the one Old Bo mentioned at the entrance to the city!’ The memory made his eyes light up.

Then, like a snap, he remembered the jewels that the sect leader’s avatar had. The same jewels stolen from the city of Zhenxia.

‘If I could get those jewels… I could sell them at the Wubao Pavilion and never worry about money again!’ His heart raced with excitement, but he sighed shortly after, shaking his head. ‘Yeah, easy to say… Too bad I can’t bring them into my real body.’

It was then that his attention shifted back to the sect leader’s avatar, who was compiling exercises. He froze.

‘How could I be so dumb!’ Aotian slapped his forehead, ignoring the curious gazes around him. ‘My greatest wealth isn’t those jewels or coins. It’s the hundreds of martial arts I stole! And I can simply copy them!’

A wide grin spread across his face. Finally, he had a plan!

‘All I need is paper and ink. Then I can…’ The excitement vanished as quickly as it came. He looked at his 10 rusted copper coins.

‘Damn! Paper and ink are expensive as hell!’ Frustration rose like a burning fire. ‘And I still have to learn to write with those damn brushes!’

Aotian sighed deeply, wondering how easy it would be if he had an A4 sheet of paper and a ballpoint pen.

‘Okay, option 1: Steal… Option 2: Create my own pen and ink. Option two seems pretty good…’

Silence.

‘…’

‘HOW THE HELL DO I DO THAT?!’ He mentally screamed, pulling his own hair as he walked in circles.

Pedestrians stared at him with frightened expressions, slowly backing away.

Realizing the scene he was making, Aotian suddenly stopped, straightened up, and quickly left, trying to hide his flushed face in embarrassment.

‘Damn… Spending a month locked in a room, compiling exercises and training until I collapse… This is killing my sanity!’ He scratched his head, frustrated.

He took a deep breath, trying to calm his mind.

‘Okay, let’s fix this. First thing: stop using theft as the first option for everything. This will get me into trouble… Besides, it’s not cool to go around stealing.’

In fact, Aotian regretted a bit using his avatars for theft, so the day after the robbery, he sent one of the elders to investigate the situation in Zhenxia. However, to his surprise, there was no chaos there.

Upon further investigation, he found that the martial arts families had kept quiet because they knew that someone capable of taking down their entire family wasn’t something they could face.

Instead of attacking someone who had 100% chances of annihilating you and your family, it was more prudent to put your tail between your legs and obediently rewrite the training manuals they had memorized by heart.

So, Aotian was pleased and patted himself on the back for taking down the entire family before stealing, thus avoiding chaos in the city.

But now, stealing from a paint shop would be different. It would only bring trouble, as he was weak compared to his avatars, and it seemed cruel to harm the simple merchant running the paint shop.

‘So, I need to steal from an easier target… cough cough, I mean, borrow. I’ll return it later,’ Aotian decided, slightly embarrassed for contradicting himself about stealing two seconds after deciding not to steal.

He also considered going directly to the Wubao Pavilion and asking to borrow paper and ink, but he quickly discarded the idea, as the chance of being kicked out seemed much higher.

Determined to act cautiously, Aotian blended into the crowd, looking for someone distracted, with no signs of martial arts skill, and someone who seemed slightly well-off but not excessively rich – someone he could easily “borrow” from.

A few minutes later, he found his target: a middle-aged, chubby man, with a tired look on his face and wearing good-quality clothing.

Aotian lowered his head and subtly walked toward the man. After a slight bump, he continued on his way naturally until reaching a quieter spot. When he opened the man’s bag, his eyes widened.

Inside, there were about 120 silver coins.

‘Damn, the guy was walking around with all his money?’ Aotian thought, surprised.

A whole family of rural workers would earn about 30 silver coins a year, with no expenses. The man didn’t seem that rich, so to have that much money, he was probably carrying everything he owned.

‘Ugh! Sorry, I’ll find you in at most two hours and return the money,’ Aotian mentally apologized and quickened his pace to return the money as quickly as possible.

First, he went to a simpler, yet good-quality, clothing store and bought, for 1 silver coin, a set of clothes superior to what he was wearing. He discarded his old clothes.

Then, he went to a more expensive clothing store and bought a fine outfit for 10 silver coins, throwing away the clothes he had just bought from the other store. He also bought a beautiful silver hairpin and, with the help of the shopkeeper, quickly fixed his long, messy hair.

Just the hairpin cost 4 silver coins.

Why did he do all this? To avoid being looked down upon in the expensive clothing store.

And now, with his elegant attire, he wouldn’t be looked down upon at the next places he visited. On the contrary, he now carried the airs of a young, scholarly master.

‘Why would I go to a high-class place in tattered rags? To be treated like a beggar? Waste time trying to prove that I’m not poor? That would be a total waste of time!’ Aotian rolled his eyes, recalling so many protagonists who always complicated the simple.

With his new clothes, he went to the paint store and bought what he needed – paints, brushes, and paper. The shopkeeper, smiling and very respectful, attended to him with the utmost politeness.

The purchase cost 15 silver coins, which somewhat reassured him. Even if he hadn’t spent all the money he found in the skull, he still wouldn’t have enough for that, which would still lead him to steal.

He then went to a luxury inn, which cost 1 silver coin per day. The place was large, with servants at his disposal and luxurious baths, plus it offered some of the best food in the city.

Aotian thought it was worth the investment. After all, with the sale of a manual, he could sustain himself for a long time, even in luxury.

Upon arriving at his room, he sent the servants out and began writing one of the skin-refining manuals.

Why not write a higher-quality manual? Because too much money meant too many problems.

Besides, a skin-refining manual could be sold for around 15 gold coins, or 1500 silver coins. With that money, he could live 50 months in this luxurious inn without leaving – more than 4 years.

With that much time, he wasn’t even sure if he’d still be in the Red Tiger City.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep