Duck Emperor Chronicles – Chapter 2


    [Author – Blurry]

    [Proofreader – Samael]

    — — —

    Chapter 2: I Really Like Throwing. . .

    The pond rippled briefly as Ya Jiao threw stones.

    Plop. Another stone broke the calm.

    Then two, and then three…

    The Duck Lord kept throwing stone after stone at the quaint pond, as if annoyed at it. Frustration lined his ducky brows, his feathers bristling as they stood sharply on end.

    ‘What is this? This isn’t my body.’

    Ya Jiao had long realized this startling fact. The body he currently inhabited was not his own. However, there were simply irrefutable dissimilarities that could not be ignored, like how his feathers were fully white instead of having a golden hue. There’s also the fact that he still had both his arms and wasn’t dead.

    Right. The second one probably nailed the reality of it better than the first.

    But why? Why was he alive and in another duck’s body?

    ‘Wait.. how am I in another duck’s body in the first place?’

    The only possible explanation was that orb, the Ancient Samsara’s treasure, found in the ruins of that godforsaken palace he never wished to see again… a place of fallen deities. 

    The Burial Ground of Gods.

    The Duck Lord repressed his memories of that terrifying place as he sifted through the bits and pieces of information he still possessed. At the very least, he knew that the orb was responsible for bringing him back from death’s door. Apart from that, he was as clueless as. . . well, a duck.

    After wringing his head dry of doubts, Ya Jiao soon accepted his new life with a wry smile. Matters like these were too murky for him to make heads or tails of, so why grumble about it at all?

    Better to just accept it and move on.

    A second life was precious. Experiencing death only renewed his longing for life. It fuelled him with a grand determination, as he flapped his ducky wings about beside the pond, contemplating. How long has it been since his death? Were his enemies still around? Whose body was this?

    And did ‘they’ still await his return?

    Melancholy suddenly shot straight into his heart. 

    What if. . .

    Ya Jiao shook his head. He cleared his mind and heart, securing a steady breath. There was no need to worry about situations that maybe, could be, or might have been . It was better to get some solid answers regarding this new world and body from a local source.

    He threw another stone at the pond. The white feathered duck watched calmly as the rock bounced off the giant’s a*s—who was currently unconscious and lay face down on the ground—before skipping a few times on the surface of the water. 

    Ah, wait. This was a human, not a giant.

    Ya Jiao slowly waddled over. He swiftly unsealed the man’s acupoints and turned him around. Then, the graceful duck climbed up the body and started stamping on it furiously, causing a spurt of water to burst out from almost blue lips.

    “Cough, cough, cough! Urgh. . .”

    ‘How unexpected. He’s still alive.’

    In all honesty, Ya Jiao had originally planned to finish off this bully. However, since his waterboarding attempt had failed, he was now quite apathetic towards his life and death. 

    Whatever harm he received was already paid back in full anyways.

    Might as well squeeze this human dry for his purposes.

    “Oi. Hey.”

    Slap. Slap. The man ate a face-full of feathers.

    “Hey. You.”

    Slap. Slap. His blurry eyes seemed to regain some consciousness.

    “Ugh! Cough. W-what is. . . ?”

    “Good, your brain is still functioning.”

    His eyes finally cleared up at the insult. The man tried to run and escape, but only ended up flailing around like a flopping fish. With his movement acupoints sealed, the four limbs were rendered useless, unable to perform any of their usual complex functions.

    This, of course, included running and standing.

    It did not impede speech though.

    “Y-you’re that useless duck!” His fear and fright were clear as day, yet his foul mouth seemed to be quite behind on what his brain was thinking. How pitiful.



    “Cease your blabbering, and answer my questions.”

    “Urgh. . .”

    Ya Jiao took that as his go-ahead. He needed to ask about many things. The setting, time, date, and whether or not this was the same world as the one he knew. The first of which being. . .

    “Where are we? What is this place? Say everything you know, and leave nothing out.”

    These questions stunned the man into silence. He had an incredulous look upon his face, pairing well with the minefield of bruises that crossed it. Snot dripped down a rosy red nose as the man returned to his senses with another well-timed slap.

    “This is t-the Jiang River Village. We live in the Eastern Section of the Great Ji Plains, one of the four main sections governed by the Central Section.”

    “What forces are situated in the Central Section?”

    A pause.

    “I- uh, don’t know. . .”


    “I really don’t know! The Central Section isn’t somewhere the people of our Jiang River Village can ever hope to reach. All I know is that it’s overseen by the Imperial Family.”

    ‘What a shallow response, but it’s good enough for now.’

    “What about the Jiang River Village?”

    Once again, that incredulous expression appeared, but it also vanished before Ya Jiao could finish raising his wing. The lout was learning quickly. 

    “The Jiang River Village is overseen by three major families. The Qian Family, a family of money-grubbing merchants who are responsible for the village’s economy. The Gu Family, the oldest of the bunch, which also doubles as a famed martial arts academy.”

    Another pause, likely made for emphasis. The black-and-blue man seemed to puff his chest up in pride. It only made him look more and more like a piece of bloated duckweed. 

    “And lastly, the Huai Family, greatest of the three. We specialize in everything. . . from protective services to toll services. My family has the widest reach inside Jiang River Village bar none! And I, Huai Dan, am none other than the youngest lord of this family.” 


    Ya Jiao’s face scrunched up in confusion. ‘“Protection”. . . you mean “extortion”, yes? And toll services? Were these people mountain bandits in their past life? No wonder this kid is up and around beating hapless ducks. What a mess.’

    A bout of annoyance rose from within the Duck Lord’s ducky soul.

    Slap! Slap! Slap!

    “Argh!!! Why did you hit me? I answered all your questions!”

    “Blame your parents. Your face looks too slappable.”

    “. . .”

    A flame suddenly sparked to life in the duckweed’s eyes. Perhaps the humiliation finally pushed him past his breaking point, or maybe the mention of his family triggered his Young Master’s spirit.

    “Hey. Useless duck. Now that you realize how powerful my family is, why don’t you let me go? If you kneel before me and beg for forgiveness, I’ll contemplate letting you live as a crippled duck.”

    Haiyaaaaa. Different people, similar attitudes.’ Ya Jiao felt like he’d been through this whole routine before. He chuckled in amusement.

    What a fool. Everyone in Jianghu knows:

    “Meeting the Mad Duck Ya Jiao is a curse your family or clan has cultivated for a thousand years. In the odd chance that you offend him. . . NEVER threaten him in any capacity.”

    “Or you will live a fate worse than death.”


    It was a bedtime story and cautionary tale handed down by the men cucked by him, the clans that fell to him, and the elders that had been angered to death by his words. ‘Ah, to have heard it sung in the school hall from back then was simply the greatest joy.’

    Ya Jiao patted the man’s cheek. His ducky beak curved in an approximation of what a human smile might have looked like. However, this gentle ‘smile’ immediately sent shivers down the Huai Family’s Young Master’s spine. He tried to crawl backwards but was met with the business end of a duck foot.

    “Oi. You wanna go home, yes?”

    “. . .yes?”

    A sinister grin.

    “Then tell me where it is. I can’t send you if I don’t know where it is.”

    Hope flashed in his eyes for a brief moment, as the Young Master’s spirit grew bolder.

    “Hah! I knew a duck like you would be afraid. My house is the biggest in Jiang River Village, near the centre. It has seven golden sculptures of lions guarding the gate. You can’t miss it.”

    So the ostentatious place he had walked past while dragging this Huai Dan by the leg was actually his house, no wonder the guards were acting rather panicky, rushing towards him like that. Witnessing their Young Master’s clobbered face smooch the dusty a*s ground was probably a phenomenal sight. 

    They really needed to order a cleaner to sweep the streets though. How unhygienic. 

    Ya Jiao roughly triangulated the distance between this pond and that large courtyard. 

    A few hundred meters? Maybe more? 

    He pondered for a moment before smiling. Those guards might be searching the entire village for them after that incident. It was now or never.

    ‘Can’t hurt to try.’

    His ducky feet snagged into the bad guy’s messy shirt.

    ‘Can’t hurt me, at least.’

    The dove-white duck flips on either side of him flapped strongly. They beat as his clawed tips dug into Huai Dan’s skin ever so slightly, faintly drawing blood. 

    “Wuh- What are you—?”

    One thing to note about this new body of his. It was utter trash in cultivation, with no innate talent nor skill in the foundational arts of attaining immortality. However. . . the body was fit. Really fit, to the point where one could call it physique cultivation. It seemed as if someone had forcibly trained the previous owner in this style of cultivation because they had recognized the owner’s inability.

    Furthermore, unlike the previous owner, Ya Jiao actually possessed quite a number of manuals in the art of cultivating physique, alongside skills and arts in his own repertoire that required a certain level of strength in order to perform.

    And so, with all these factors lined up, the Duck Lord was able to achieve an impossible feat.

    Ya Jiao grunted in mild exertion. His wings flapped strong enough to lift them a meter off the floor.

    “One last question. How long has it been since the death of Ya Jiao, the duck lord.”

    Huai Dan looked up at him in horror, an ugly expression on his face. 

    “I-I don’t know who that is—”

    “Fine. Then what dynasty are we currently in.”


    ‘Duck. This useless piece of shit.’ Ya Jiao felt an unknown sense of fury consume him.

    “Tch. Well. It’s been nice knowing you, kid. Have a nice trip back home.”

    Even if he had no Qi nor cultivation base, there were still moves this body could pull off. 

    For example. . .

    [Duck Fist, Seventh Form: Throwing the Fox to catch the Dragon.]

    As he flew, the Duck Lord swung the beaten-up Young Master in a circle, gathering momentum. Ripples emerged from still waters as their dance generated enough wind to shake leaves off trees. It was a surreal sight. A white duck and a black-and-blue man spinning about above the surface of a pond, slowly getting faster and faster.

    Huai Dan was frothing at the mouth. 

    Ya Jiao held a cold and chilling glare.

    The duck lord soon threw the man, and watched as he became but a dot of black in the blue sky.

    A silent moment passed as serenity returned to the quaint pond.

    He sighed emotionally, content at last. The white duck gazed softly at the cloudy sky in a daze.

    “. . .Damn. Throwing people is so much more fun than just throwing rocks.”


    A fountain of water rose to the sky in the distance. Heh. Ya Jiao did not know whether to call Huai Dan a lucky man, or an unlucky man. On one hand, the water probably saved his life. On the other, almost drowning twice in one day is truly some duck a*s luck.

    And he should know. He is, after all, a duck with experience on duck a*s.

    How fowl.

    Ya Jiao turned away, whistling a tune. Now that that was finally over, he needed to gain some more information about this new world he had been reincarnated in. Huai Dan had generously ‘donated’ him a few scraps, but it was far from enough, far from painting the full picture.

    He needed solid answers. The Three Families were a good place to start.

    Unfortunately, before he could plan further, he found his path blocked by a tallish figure. Twin peaks dangled carelessly above his head as he gazed upwards once more. ‘What a pleasant sight.’

    The Mad Duck casually walked in between her legs and began to leave. Getting ‘comfortable’ with a local now was a big no-no, especially since he was still rather weak. There were plans he needed to make. Leaving a trail of women behind would only hinder him.

    That said, unfortunately again, it seemed this particular trouble seemed. . . unavoidable.

    The girl grabbed his neck, and right as he moved to immediately chop her hand off, her voice rang out in his ear. She spoke a collection of words that made absolutely no sense to him.

    Words that halted his slashing wing in an instant.

    “Brother Ya Jing! Where have you been? Mom’s been so worried about you!”

    . . .


    ‘Has this girl lost her bloody mind?’

    — — —

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