Chapter 1: Rebirth as a Toad, the Coin of Gold

Nestled among the mountains, a small stream wound its way between the peaks. At that very moment, perched upon a rock in the middle of the stream, a pitch-black toad sat in a daze, staring blankly at two pieces of milky-white stone before it.

“Half a year!”
“An entire half a year—do you have any idea how I’ve managed to survive these six months?!”

Mo Fan’s heart cried out in anguish, and his bulging toad eyes brimmed with unshed tears of excitement. He had been in this world for exactly half a year. From the moment he first hatched as a tiny tadpole in search of his mother, only now had he finally begun to understand the purpose of the coin imprinted in his mind.

On the stone before him lay a golden coin. It was round with a square hole in the center, inscribed with four intricate characters that looked almost like arcane runes—symbols Mo Fan did not recognize. The coin had come with him to this world, his one steadfast golden finger of hope.

Yet in all these months, aside from discovering that the coin could be summoned into his mind at will, he had unearthed no other wondrous abilities. Mo Fan was not one to give up easily; he refused to accept that he was destined to live out his days as an ordinary toad. He had even contemplated ending his own life, but his cowardice prevailed, and in the end, he decided that a miserable life was better than a noble death.

After all, if he had to be a toad in this world, then he might as well be one that could feast on swan meat—only then would his life not be in vain.

And so, for six months, he spent his days fleeing from predators and fiddling ceaselessly with his mysterious coin.

Now, at last, he had discovered its use. It could—quite miraculously—duplicate stones.

But not just any stones. Mo Fan had never seen anything quite like this one before. He had found it in a nearby karst cave; it resembled jade, its whole body milky white, glowing faintly at night and chillingly smooth to the touch, unlike any other stone he had encountered. When he drew near to it, he felt an inexplicable sense of comfort, a subtle pleasure that washed over him.

Because of that, Mo Fan had decided to carry the stone in his mouth and bring it back to his burrow as decoration. Yet just as he returned to the stream’s edge, he felt a faint glow emanate from the coin in his mind. Suddenly, there was something extra in his mouth. Spitting it out, he discovered—astonishingly—another identical stone!

From one stone to two.

He eyed the coin, then willed it back into his mind and placed one of the stones in his mouth again, intent on testing his newfound theory.

He waited, stone clutched in his mouth, silently counting the time. After about a quarter of an hour, the coin in his mind shone once more with a faint golden light. Mo Fan sensed a new presence in his mouth. Hastily spitting it out, he found himself facing three identical stones.

Delight welled up in him. His bulging toad eyes darted around, and in a flash, his crimson tongue shot out to snatch a mosquito that flitted before him, swallowing it in the blink of an eye.

If he could duplicate stones, could he duplicate other things as well?

With a mosquito in his mouth, Mo Fan waited quietly. He no longer minded the taste of insects; if he did, he would have starved long ago. Being reborn as a toad meant he could no longer be picky—this was the greatest lesson he’d learned in these six months.

But time dragged on—a quarter hour, then another—and nothing happened. Disappointed, Mo Fan finally swallowed the mosquito, counting it as a meager snack.

“Looks like I can’t duplicate mosquitoes...what about other things?” he wondered. He ran several more experiments: blades of grass, leaves, fish, shrimp, even ordinary stones—all to no avail.

Disheartened, he concluded that only this special milky-white stone could be duplicated.

“Could this stone be something extraordinary?” Mo Fan mused, but found no answers. Resigned, he stuffed all three stones into his mouth and dove into the stream, heading for his burrow.

His lair was nestled beside the stream, hidden among a tangle of weeds—a clever ploy to avoid the attention of larger, fiercer predators. Mo Fan’s burrow was far more spacious than those of his peers, both because of his own considerable size and the effort he’d put into excavating it: three chambers and a hall, all interconnected—a final stubborn display of his past life’s pride.

He brought the three stones into his “bedroom” and sprawled upon the damp earth, resting his head atop the milky-white stones and inhaling deeply. The air seemed sweeter, fresher somehow.

“If these stones have some special power, perhaps there are more treasures deeper within the cave,” Mo Fan thought. He resolved to explore the cave’s depths at midnight.

Night fell. This was always the most comfortable time for Mo Fan, far more pleasant than the stifling heat of the day.

Croaks from his kin echoed outside, signaling that they too had set out in search of food. But Mo Fan scorned the thought of mingling with those ugly wretches. Leaping from his burrow, he followed the stream toward the cave.

The cave was not far—after swimming for perhaps half a day, he reached its entrance. While it might not have appeared impressive to a human, to a toad the size of a human head, it was indeed a cavern: its opening just over three meters wide, smooth and polished, resembling the den of some massive reptile, with clusters of jagged stalagmites within.

He peered into the gloom—a pitch-black void that sent a chill down his spine. Last time, he hadn’t dared venture deeper.

“Let’s hope there aren’t any ghosts hiding in there, or I’ll be scared to death!” he muttered, but then paused. “Wait a minute—I’m already a toad, what do I have to fear from ghosts?”

His muttering came out as a series of loud croaks. Annoyed by his own noise, he clamped his mouth shut.

Summoning his courage, Mo Fan hopped deeper into the cave. Along the way, he spotted more of those milky-white stones embedded in the walls, each emitting a faint white glow. He resisted the urge to pry them loose and pressed onward.

The deeper he ventured, the more milky-white stones he saw.

After what felt like an eternity, the darkness suddenly gave way to light, and Mo Fan was struck dumb with astonishment.

In a vast cavern, the walls were densely embedded with countless milky-white stones, their combined radiance illuminating the entire space.

But what truly captured Mo Fan’s attention was a small tree growing amidst a pile of rocks at the cavern’s center. On its branches hung three sparkling fruits—though separated by several meters, their delicate fragrance reached even him.

These fruits were no ordinary prize.

Mo Fan’s eyes gleamed. He was certain of the fruits’ value, confirmed by the presence of two formidable beasts eyeing the tree hungrily: a massive silver serpent, thick as an adult’s arm and over three meters long, and a red-backed centipede, just as thick and nearly two meters in length.

Perhaps sensing the arrival of a third contender, both monsters turned their heads toward Mo Fan—freezing him in place with terror.