The blizzard intensified. This night was destined to be anything but peaceful. Ou Tao barely made it down from the mountain’s wind-scoured pass. By the time he reached home, his stamina had plummeted to 31—he’d nearly not returned at all.
Cage in hand, he recalled the hunters’ advice: skin the bamboo rabbit for its pelt, worth one silver coin. But thinking of the hungry Ke Er, he’d already told them he’d sell it tomorrow.
A loaf of bread cost two copper coins. One silver coin equaled one hundred copper coins; one gold coin, twenty silvers. Ou Tao now grasped this world’s basic economy. His most urgent task was profession change—but self-initiated profession change required ten silver coins.
Slaves, farmers, laborers, merchants, nobles: these were the world’s five innate professions, assigned at birth based on parental status. Yet upon reaching level five, one could change professions—via forced profession change or self-initiated profession change.
Forced profession change meant forcibly shifting into a chosen role, regardless of suitability. Example: Intelligence 18, Strength 2—you could become a Swordsman, but whether you’d truly excel? Uncertain.
Self-initiated profession change resembled an inner awakening, automatically aligning with one’s body. Some awakened as rare Mages; others remained Farmers.
Over a hundred professions existed, wildly unbalanced. Early gaps were minor, but at level 100? A Farmer versus a Mage—worlds apart.
After profession change, the original role appeared in parentheses as a title note. The three hunters? Hunter (Farmer). The parenthetical role served as social status only—zero combat impact.
Yet that status could shift: a Slave might buy freedom to become a Farmer; a Farmer could be ennobled; a defeated Noble might be enslaved.
Walking the bluestone path home, Ou Tao pondered how to earn ten silvers—then froze. Through the snowy haze stood a small, shivering figure: the silver-haired, disheveled little girl, waiting right at his door.
Her silver hair fluttered. Arms hugged tight around herself, curled against the cold. Bare little legs trembled in the biting wind. Her amber eyes, dulled by chill, still lit with joy. “Father! Thank goodness—you’re safe!”
“Hey!” Ou Tao rushed back, grabbed her tiny hand, pulled her inside. “Are you crazy? Standing in snow like that—you’ll freeze!”
“But, Father… I was worried!” Ke Er lowered her head, cheeks flushed, gaze drifting aside. “You’d just recovered… I feared something might happen. But you ordered me to wait. So Ke Er waited right here.”
Ou Tao noticed frostbitten patches on her hands. Her threadbare clothes offered no warmth, faintly damp with sweat.
“Why not bathe?”
“After bathing… these clothes would just get dirty again.”
“Then wash them!”
“We only have this one set! Without it… I’d freeze!”
“Go bathe first!”
“Tch.” Ou Tao sighed, ran out again, traded one bamboo rabbit for winter clothes for her.
“Father! I’m ready! Come on!” Ke Er called the moment he set the bundle down.
He turned. Ke Er shivered toward him, bare feet on cold stone, small frame pale. Beside her sat a bucket of steaming water.
“Hey—go to the bathroom! Why stand in the yard corner?”
“What’s a bathroom? Father… is it tasty food you brought tonight?”
Right. In this dirt-poor clay-tiled hut, a bathroom was fantasy. No tub. No showerhead.
Too frail to lift the full wooden ladle, her idea of bathing was simple: strip bare, and Father pours water over her.
“Father… what’s wrong? Didn’t you always bathe me like this before?”
Ou Tao had seen provocative scenes before—sneaking peeks at doujinshi “for study,” hyper-real game visuals—but knowing they were data made them hollow. Ke Er was different. A living, breathing child. Silver hair, amber eyes. Her fragile, innocent form… had a soul.
His heart hammered. Cheeks burned.
“Father! Ke Er’s so cold! Please hurry—I can’t hold on!” She hugged herself, shivering, shifting feet.
“Got it.” Ou Tao swallowed hard, suppressed a sixteen-year-old’s instinct, and whispered inwardly: “Bika, sever all connections except the direct link.”
Instantly, the lecherous Hamiyou staffer watching the feed saw Ou Tao’s view cut to black. A grayish-brown image filled the screen: a chibi-style face with oversized features, covering most of the display, gazing down with wide, childish eyes.
“Whoa—this pink loli terminal’s insane!” Hamiyou’s chief programmer gasped. “It actually blocked our surveillance!”
Certain Ke Er was safe, Ou Tao stepped forward, lifted the ladle, and poured warm water over her head.
“F-Father—wah! So hot! So good! *sob* More, please!”
Rubbing her soaked hair, she chirped, “Father! My back—could you scrub my back too?”
