Volume One: First Arrival Chapter 28: Bright Moon

The stone wall was built against the mountainside in an arc, enclosing a space of nearly two hundred square meters. Facing Meng Xingchen, there was a gap about two meters wide that served as the entrance to the goblin camp, though it lacked any gate.

Opposite the entrance, on the mountainside itself, was an opening nearly five meters high and three meters wide, which was presumably the goblins' den.

Inside the enclosure, a massive bonfire blazed, with the carcass of a bull roasting over the flames. A large number of goblins swarmed around the fire. Meng Xingchen made a rough estimate: there were over two hundred goblins, including five casters clutching long staves.

Looking at the bull carcass on the fire, Meng Xingchen felt a pang of heartache. What a waste of labor; to think it was being roasted and eaten like this. Goblins were truly detestable. Furthermore, piles of animal bones lay at the entrance of the cave, and Meng Xingchen could spot several bull horns—it was clear that this was not the first bull they had devoured.

Just then, a tall goblin emerged from the cave, standing approximately two meters high. Compared to the scrawny, rat-faced common goblins, this one was thick-necked and brawny, with arms thicker than an adult's thigh. It wore animal hides around its waist and chest, likely from the bulls. It held a massive wooden club in its hand and strode toward the fire with a protruding belly. With every step it took, the ground seemed to tremble slightly.

As it appeared, the chattering goblins fell silent and automatically cleared a path. It was clearly their leader. The goblin chief reached the fire, stood its club upright in the dirt, and reached out with both hands. With one hand pressing down on the carcass and the other gripping a hind leg, it tore the limb right off with a single tug. The club, left unsupported, was immediately steadied by two goblins who stood by with expressions of sycophantic reverence.

As the chief shoved the blood-streaked leg into its mouth, Meng Xingchen assessed its strength. Judging by its physique and weapon, it was likely a pure physical fighter, yet it had managed to cow the spellcasters into submission. Tearing off a bull’s leg with its bare hands—even if partially roasted—required immense strength. He estimated it to be a Tier 2 combatant.

A Tier 2 leader, five casters, over two hundred common goblins, plus the defensive wall and the cave—the transmigrators would pay a heavy price if they tried to storm this place. It was better to develop for a while, staying put and letting the goblins make the first move. The longer the delay, the more advantageous it would be for the transmigrators.

With the situation assessed, Meng Xingchen quietly slipped away from the camp. Moving with lightning speed, he returned to Li Family Village in less than twenty minutes. By then, the battlefield had been cleared, and the goblin corpses were temporarily piled in the open space in front of the village.

A fire had been lit in the small courtyard of Li Daniu’s house, where Li Changfeng and the others were gathered, discussing something. The two flight attendants, Lin Yafei and Zhang Xinyi, were clearly uninterested in the discussion; they leaned against Xu Jingya, gazing blankly at the pale moon in the sky.

Suddenly, Zhang Xinyi began to hum softly: "When will the moon be clear and bright? With a cup of wine in my hand, I ask the blue sky. I do not know what season it would be in the heavens on high tonight."

Just arriving outside the courtyard, Meng Xingchen froze as if struck by lightning upon hearing her singing. After a long silence, he sighed softly, "When will the moon be clear and bright... So it really is 'Water Melody'. 'When will the moon be clear and bright'—he said 'moon' and 'bright', not 'oil'!"

Although he was basically certain, he wanted to confirm it once more. He entered the courtyard and asked Zhang Xinyi, who was still humming, "Can you play the flute?"

Zhang Xinyi was startled out of her reverie. Seeing Meng Xingchen looking at her with a strange expression, she suddenly blushed, hung her head, and stammered, "I... I don't know how to play the flute."

Meng Xingchen was filled with confusion. What was with that expression? What was she talking about?

Lin Yafei, who had been watching from the side, froze for a moment before bursting into raucous laughter. She eventually collapsed onto Xu Jingya’s shoulder, unable to stop giggling. Xu Jingya gave Lin Yafei a sharp swat on the back, then reached out and tapped Zhang Xinyi firmly on the forehead, looking at Meng Xingchen with some embarrassment. "That..."

Unable to find the right words, she forcibly changed the subject: "Did you find the goblin den?"

Meng Xingchen sat in the spot vacated by Ye Feng and said, "I found it. It’s not far from here. There are over two hundred goblins, including a chief who is likely a Tier 2 fighter, and five casters."

Li Changfeng frowned upon hearing this. "That level of strength is a major threat to us."

Meng Xingchen nodded. "Yes. So, my suggestion is to strengthen our defenses while working to improve our own strength, without actively attacking them. With the system, our power will grow quickly. Time is on our side."

Lin Yafei, finally managing to suppress her laughter, interjected, "Hey, why did you ask Xinyi if she could play the flute?" She burst into laughter again.

Xu Jingya gave her another sharp swat, while Zhang Xinyi buried her crimson face deep between her legs.

Seeing several others looking at him with suppressed grins, Meng Xingchen said, "I just wanted to verify one thing; it doesn't matter if she can't."

Zhang Xinyi remained buried in her legs, playing dead. Xu Jingya answered for her: "Xinyi probably can't play the flute."

Liang Junyi, a slightly balding, middle-aged man sitting diagonally across from Meng Xingchen, spoke up: "Verify what? I can play the flute."

Everyone looked in surprise at the slightly stout, balding man. Liang Junyi stroked his oily, rounded cheek in the firelight and said, "Don't look at me like that. Back in the day, I was the musical prince of our department. I can play four or five instruments."

Meng Xingchen asked, "Can you play 'When will the moon be clear and bright'?"

Liang Junyi asked, "Is that the song composed based on Su Shi's 'Water Melody'?"

Meng Xingchen nodded.

Liang Junyi replied, "I actually don't know that one. We only learned love songs back then."

Meng Xingchen said, "It doesn't matter if you don't know it. The matter is basically confirmed; I just wanted to do one last check."

Liang Junyi said, "I know some music theory, and I've heard that song before, though I don't remember it clearly. If I hear it a few more times, I can transcribe the sheet music."

Meng Xingchen coughed lightly to draw everyone's attention. "We can do that later when there's time. There is something more important to discuss right now."

"The reason I am so fixated on that song is that I previously heard a local village child named Li Meng playing it on a flute."

Everyone was stunned, then realized the implications. Just as Ye Feng started to speak, Meng Xingchen waved him off. "I can confirm that Li Meng is a native of this world. He did not transmigrate like us, nor was it a soul-transmigration. According to him, over three years ago, a middle-aged man surnamed Su came to Li Family Village to help the villagers clear out some gnolls. He stayed at Li Meng's house at the time, and both the flute and the song came from this man. I heard Li Meng play it a while ago, but because he was so unskilled and hesitant, I only thought it sounded familiar; I didn't confirm it was that song. It was only when I heard her singing it just now that it suddenly clicked." Meng Xingchen looked at Zhang Xinyi.

Zhang Xinyi had tentatively raised her head to listen, but as soon as he looked her way, she tucked her head back down like a startled ostrich.

Meng Xingchen continued, "This means that we are not the only batch of transmigrators in this world. At the very least, they have been appearing for three years. Based on our own experiences—some of us transmigrated alone, others in groups, and at different times—we can infer that there are quite a few transmigrators in this world.

"This is very strange. A large number of transmigrators, equipped with systems and awakened abilities or talents, haven't made any waves in this world? Given the education we Chinese receive—'if poor, cultivate yourself; if successful, improve the world'—even if only a small fraction of transmigrators survived and grew, the human race shouldn't be in such a dire situation."

Everyone nodded in agreement. They asked themselves: if they had the power, they could never sit idly by while humanity suffered such a difficult existence.

"Therefore," Meng Xingchen concluded, "the waters in this world run deep. There may be dangers we are not yet aware of. For now, we must work to improve our own strength while remaining vigilant. Be cautious in our interactions with the outside world and try not to attract the attention of local factions."

Li Changfeng added, "Regarding improving our strength, we were just discussing that. Following the battle with the goblins and the system rewards, all twenty-plus of us have leveled up—some by one or two levels, others by three or four. Moreover, two skills have appeared: Basic Meditation and Basic Battle Qi. We want to popularize these two skills and have everyone—whether they participated in tonight's battle or not—try to learn them. Do you think that's feasible?"

This was a path Meng Xingchen hadn't considered. He asked, "Can skills rewarded by the system be shared with others?"

Xu Jingya produced a stack of papers. "Basic Meditation involves meditating in conjunction with specific breathing techniques, and Basic Battle Qi involves performing physical exercises with specific breathing methods. We have copied these two skills down. We don't know if it will work yet; so far, no one has been able to learn either one."

These papers were some of the few remaining sheets the flight attendants had been using to record information. Meng Xingchen took them, and just as he was about to read the contents, Zhang Xinyi began to hum softly again: "When will the moon be clear and bright..."

Listening to her melodious singing, no one felt like talking for a while. Especially when the lyrics reached, "May we all be blessed with longevity, though miles apart, we share the beauty of the moon," everyone couldn't help but look up at the pale moon above, remaining silent for a long time.