Gratitude to the Thief

Aotian hurried back to the inn, trying to conceal the bulky bag of coins under his robes.

'Damn! If I'd known I'd return with this much money, I would've bought a cloak,' He cursed himself for his lack of caution.

'At least, no matter how full the bag is, no one would suspect it's full of gold, with a few silvers mixed in.' This thought brought him some relief.

Before selling the manual, he had 120 silver coins he'd stolen. After spending 31, he was left with 89.

After selling the manual, he received 150 gold coins and exchanged one of them for silver.

Setting aside the bag he would return to the man he had robbed, he was left with 149 gold coins, 69 silver coins, and 10 bronze coins for himself.

Back at the luxurious inn, Aotian hid most of the gold in a secure spot. Later, he would look for a better hiding place, but for now, he was in a hurry.

Without wasting time, he went out to find the man and return the "loan."

...

Feng Hui was an honest and hardworking man, known for his constant smile and contagious enthusiasm.

But lately, his cheerful demeanor had been replaced by a weary face and cracked lips.

Months ago, his son contracted a rare illness. Desperate, Feng Hui sought help from friends and relatives, but those he had always been generous to turned their backs on him in his time of greatest need.

With no options left, he turned to a dangerous gang to get the money needed for the treatment.

His son was cured, bringing him immense relief.

However, the problem merely changed form.

Now, he owed an exorbitant amount, cruelly multiplied by the gang.

He sold everything he had and worked tirelessly over the past few months, finally scraping together the money. Today was the day to settle the debt, the last deadline given by the gang.

But then, he lost all the money.

Carelessly, exhausted from fatigue, he didn't know if he had been robbed or simply dropped the bag.

The guards, instead of helping him, mocked his misfortune.

Feng Hui was hopeless, contemplating his options.

'Jump off a cliff, slit my throat, or hang myself? Which would be less painful?'

In the midst of his dark thoughts, he noticed from his peripheral vision a young man approaching.

Dressed in an elegant black robe with a silver hairpin adorning his jet-black hair, the youth was incredibly handsome.

But this didn't matter to Feng Hui, who returned to reflecting on his tragic fate.

Until he felt a light tap on his shoulder.

"Friend, I've been looking all over town for you. I saw you drop this." The young man extended a heavy bag.

Feng Hui looked at it indifferently at first, but upon recognizing it, his eyes widened and his jaw dropped.

"T-This... This..." With trembling hands, he grabbed the bag, slowly opening it. Inside were his silver coins, all of them.

Tears welled up in his eyes and flowed freely down his face, marked by despair.

From the weight of the bag, he knew not a single coin was missing.

Aotian watched the scene, surprised by the man's copious tears.

He knew the amount he had stolen was significant but hadn't imagined it would cause such suffering to the poor man.

Aotian felt ashamed for being the reason behind a grown man's tears.

"Ahem... It seems like you're going through hard times. Here, this might help," Aotian, trying to ease his guilt, took out a gold coin and gently tossed it into the open bag.

Feng Hui, still shaken, widened his eyes at the sight of the gold's gleam among the silvers.

He quickly wiped his tears, confirming he wasn't seeing things. It was indeed a gold coin.

He looked up, incredulous, and stared at Aotian.

The young man was bathed in the light of the setting sun, creating an ethereal image. In his blurred vision, it seemed as though white wings were sprouting from Aotian's back.

'An angel...' Feng Hui could hardly believe it.

Still in shock, he fell to his knees and pressed his forehead to the ground as tears began to flow again.

"Thank you! Thank you so much!" His voice was choked, filled with gratitude and relief.

Aotian felt even worse.

'Damn! I stole from you, and now you're kneeling to thank me!'

"There's no need for that. Just be more careful next time." He helped Feng Hui up, patted his shoulder, and left quickly.

The more the man expressed his gratitude, the more ashamed Aotian felt.

As Aotian disappeared down the street, Feng Hui watched him with tearful eyes.

An emotional smile appeared on his lips.

"My son, my wife... Today we won't go hungry. We can start over thanks to the generosity of a good man."

…

Aotian returned to the luxurious inn feeling much better about himself.

Not only had he returned the money, but he had also apologized with a gold coin for robbing the man.

'Well, I swear this is the last time I'll steal from someone I don't know. From now on, I'll only steal from my enemies and never involve innocents again.' Aotian made this vow in his heart with determination.

'I, Long Aotian, no matter what happens, will not become someone without principles or a hypocrite.'

Standing before a polished bronze mirror in his room at the inn, Aotian looked at his own reflection with resolve and made that promise.

Then, out of curiosity, he began to admire himself in the mirror.

This was the first time he was seeing his own face since arriving in this world.

Before, the room at the old inn was too dark for him to see his reflection in the water, and he hadn't been particularly interested.

Now, although the polished bronze didn't reflect as clearly, it was like looking at himself in the body of a car. This allowed Aotian to finally analyze his new face.

'Wow... Despite the slightly Chinese features that I'm not used to, my appearance isn't bad at all... actually, I'm being modest. I'm really handsome now.'

He stroked his own face with a mix of arrogance and pride.

'Alright, enough of being weird. Let's train. Now that I don't have to worry about money, have servants at my disposal, and plenty of space to train, my progress should be even faster.'

Aotian reflected, feeling satisfied, and then looked at his panel:

[Host: Long Aotian

Cultivation: Mortal (Mid-stage Skin Refinement)

Physique: Mortal

Aptitude: No Spiritual Root

—-------------------------

Sect: No Name

Level: 0 (Not qualified as a sect)]

'The sect still has no disciples and doesn't qualify as a real sect, so I can't name it yet. The only change on the panel since I arrived is that I now have a name, and my martial arts level appears under cultivation.'

Aotian analyzed, reflecting on his progress.

In just six days of training, he went from the initial stage — which is achieved merely by memorizing the exercises and practicing a basic session — to the mid-stage of Skin Refinement.

He could have advanced even faster but chose to perfect each step before moving forward.

The Skin Refinement exercises didn't involve getting beaten up or anything like that to toughen the skin. Instead, they consisted of specific routines that guided tiny portions of spiritual energy from the air to temper the body. This tempering was mainly focused on the skin, preparing it as a foundation for the next exercises.

Only after completing Skin Refinement could he begin Blood Refinement, which involved tempering the blood running through the skin's veins with spiritual energy. Without properly refined skin, the highly energetic blood could burst the vessels, and the skin would tear, resulting in instant death.