The Low-Martial Era: From Refugee to Sage of the World

I woke up in the final years of a low-martial-arts dynasty, with no strength to defend myself, just another displaced peasant. The people in this world aren't very powerful, but the sight of starving people everywhere is even more despairing. In silence, I practiced the health-preserving art I happened upon in my previous life: "The Tortoise May Live Long." Twenty years passed. The land descended into chaos, warlords carved it up, and I had quietly become a legend of the martial world. One day, as I sat meditating on a mountaintop, I suddenly sensed a familiar spatial fluctuation. The door leading to the twenty-first century had somehow opened in this low-martial-arts world.