Chapter 3: Entering the City

When he got home and looked, Zhao Xiao’er’s condition was very poor. The fever was so high that the child’s body was constantly trembling and even convulsing.

Zhao Mengcheng’s heart sank. If this continued, even if the boy recovered, he would likely be burned into a simpleton.

“I have to get to town immediately.”

He bent down to pick up the child, but the original owner’s body was too weak. Instead of lifting the boy, he nearly collapsed himself.

“Let me do it.”

Auntie Wang from next door arrived with her husband. Seeing the situation, Uncle Wang hoisted the child onto his back.

Auntie Wang said, “Take our cart. Mengcheng, I’ll look after Zhao Dawa¹ and Xin’xin for you. Don’t you worry.”

With the help of Uncle Wang and Auntie Wang, the sick child was placed onto the single-wheeled cart. Zhao Mengcheng was out of breath after walking only a few steps and could barely keep up.

“Mengcheng, you get on the cart too. Your Uncle Wang has plenty of strength,” Uncle Wang reminded him.

Fearing he would waste time, Zhao Mengcheng had no choice but to swallow his pride and get on the cart, reaching out to hold the weak, unconscious child.

The three of them didn’t speak again until they reached the city gate. Fortunately, the gate was already open at this hour. Once inside, they headed straight for Deji Tang².

“Doctor, the child has been burning with fever all night and it won’t break. Please, help him quickly.”

The doctor on duty stood up immediately upon hearing this. After checking the pulse, he said, “Why did you only bring him now? Any later and this child would have been burned into a simpleton.”

Zhao Mengcheng’s heart skipped a beat. “Can he be cured?”

Without a word, the doctor carried the child into the inner hall and pulled out a bundle of silver needles³.

“You’re lucky,” the young medical apprentice whispered nearby. “Usually, my master doesn’t sit in the clinic.”

As the first needle was placed on Zhao Mao’s head, Zhao Mengcheng realized that the doctor before him was none other than Doctor Lu, the pediatric specialist Doctor Liu had mentioned.

After a few needles, Zhao Mao’s trembling body gradually calmed down.

Seeing this, Zhao Mengcheng breathed a small sigh of relief, thinking to himself that their luck was indeed good.

Fifteen minutes later, Doctor Lu finally withdrew his hands. “Wait half an hour. Once the fever subsides, he’ll be fine for the time being. This child’s fever was caused by an invasion of external evils⁴. A few doses of medicine will fix him up, but he must be well-fed and hydrated from now on. Otherwise, his weak Qi will make him prone to illness.”

He glanced at Zhao Mengcheng’s clothes and guessed he wasn’t from a wealthy family. “I can charge you only five mace⁵ for the consultation, but the medicine cost cannot be reduced. He needs some nourishing herbs and must take them for at least seven days. Altogether, it will be one tael of silver.”

Zhao Mengcheng felt relieved. “Thank you, Doctor Lu. I’ll go pay and get the medicine right away.”

“I’ll go.” Seeing that Zhao Mengcheng was still shaking as he walked, Uncle Wang took the initiative to take over the task.

Zhao Mengcheng trusted him and handed over all the silver.

Seeing Zhao Mengcheng gasping for air with every movement, Doctor Lu frowned. “Young man, sit down. Let me check your pulse.”

Zhao Mengcheng paused.

Thinking he was afraid of the cost, Doctor Lu explained, “Don’t worry, I won’t charge you extra for the consultation.”

Zhao Mengcheng sat down beside him. “I know you are a man of great skill and compassion, Doctor Lu. I am deeply grateful.”

Doctor Lu didn’t speak, but his frown deepened as he felt the pulse. “Nonsense! Who prescribed your previous medicine?”

“Your illness originally stemmed from stagnation in the heart and unresolved emotions, which should have been treated by soothing the liver and relieving the stagnation. How could they give you such harsh, potent medicine? It’s a miracle you’re still alive.”

Zhao Mengcheng’s eyes darkened.

When he had been bedridden and gravely ill, Zhao Dawa had sold the family’s fertile land to afford the doctor and medicine. That doctor had been brought by Zhao Wencheng.

They had taken two taels and five mace from Zhao Dawa and nearly cost him his life.

Zhao Mengcheng valued his life dearly. “Doctor Lu, do you think I can still be saved?”

Doctor Lu was amused by the question. “This illness of yours began in the heart and must be resolved in the heart. Once you let go of your worries, you’ll be halfway cured. You still have a long life ahead of you, young man. In this world, nine out of ten things don’t go as planned. Don’t throw your health away just because you’re young.”

Zhao Mengcheng took the lesson to heart. “I won’t do it again.”

After half an hour, Zhao Mao’s condition had stabilized significantly, and his forehead was no longer so burning hot.

Doctor Lu checked his pulse again and nodded. “Once he wakes up, give him the first dose of medicine. Three times a day. You can continue to boil the dregs⁶ twice more. Take it for seven days straight. If he’s not better by then, come back and see me.”

Zhao Mengcheng thanked him again and, with Uncle Wang’s help, carried the child back onto the cart.

Seeing that both the child and the adult were alright, Uncle Wang’s expression relaxed considerably. “It’s a good thing we arrived in time. Zhao Mao is such a clever child. If he had been burned into a simpleton, what would he have done for the rest of his life?”

Before he finished speaking, Uncle Wang realized his words might be taken the wrong way. He quickly explained, “I’m not cursing the child, don’t take it to heart.”

“Uncle, I know you mean well. Why would I take it to heart?”

His own elder brother had kicked him while he was down, yet it was his neighbors who offered help in his time of need. Zhao Mengcheng said gratefully, “It was my own momentary lapse in judgment that caused the children to worry along with me. It’s all thanks to the help from you and Auntie. If you hadn’t been busy helping us with everything, I wouldn’t dare imagine the consequences.”

Uncle Wang gave a simple, honest smile. “It’s nothing. Your parents looked after us plenty back when they were still around. Besides, we’re all related one way or another.”

Zhao Mengcheng’s late wife was technically Auntie Wang’s niece by seniority, though the blood relation was distant.

Holding his child as he sat on the cart, Zhao Mengcheng finally had the presence of mind to observe the town.

Changhe Town was situated beside a large river. Because the water transport was smooth and there was a dock, the town was fairly prosperous. It was early morning now, and the streets were bustling with people coming and going.

The original host’s memories were gray and dull, but the world Zhao Mengcheng saw through his own eyes now was vibrant and full of life. Even the noisy marketplace felt endearing.

Noticing his gaze, Uncle Wang said, “Wait until your health improves, then come back to town to find work. You’ve had an education, so you’ll surely find something.”

Zhao Mengcheng’s eyes dimmed slightly. The villagers might not know the details of how the original host had been framed, but many in town did. The possibility of him finding work as an accountant again was slim to none.

“We’ll see,” was all Zhao Mengcheng could say.

He closed his eyes to feel the strength within his body. The original host’s body was truly too weak, but fortunately, his special ability from his previous life was still there. His Mental Power tentacles were stirring restlessly.

Zhao Mengcheng was confident that as long as he nursed his body back to health, making a living and earning money would not be a problem.

“Dad!”

While Zhao Mengcheng had taken Zhao Mao into town for treatment, Zhao Dawa and Zhao Sanmei couldn’t sit still. As soon as dawn broke, the two siblings had waited by the large tree at the village entrance, holding hands.

Auntie Wang couldn’t stop them, so she could only let them be.

Seeing the wheelbarrow from afar, Zhao Dawa sprinted over. “Is my brother okay?”

Zhao Mengcheng smiled. “He’s fine. The doctor said he’ll get better once he takes his medicine.”

“That’s great!” Zhao Dawa cheered, poking his head out to see his brother.

Uncle Wang saw the task through to the end, delivering the father and sons to their doorstep and even carrying the child to the bed before leaving.

After all the commotion, Zhao Mengcheng’s vision swam with darkness. This weak body was struggling to hold up.

He forced himself to resist the urge to collapse. After leaning against the bed and resting for a moment, he felt a bit better and spoke. “Dawa, you know how to brew medicine, right? Brew the medicine for your brother first.”

Zhao Dawa nodded and quickly lit the medicine stove in the courtyard. Zhao Sanmei helped behind him like a little tail.

“Dad, I brewed your medicine this morning. You should have another bowl later.”

Zhao Mengcheng didn’t dare drink it, fearing it might actually kill him. “The doctor just said I’m already recovered. All medicine has some level of toxicity, so there’s no need to drink the rest.”

Zhao Dawa believed him.

After a moment, he looked up and asked, “Dad, why did you call me Dawa just now?”

Zhao Mengcheng paused. Sifting through the original host’s memories, he discovered that because the man was literate, he had been quite particular about naming his children.

The names of the three siblings were derived from phrases meaning “parents in good health” and “siblings in harmony,” which symbolized beautiful sentiments.

Usually, the villagers called them Dawa, Erwa, and Sanwa, or even used lowly nicknames⁷ like Goudan or Naodan. But the original host never did; he always called the children by their formal names.

“It just slipped out,” Zhao Mengcheng explained casually.

Fortunately, Zhao Chun had only asked in passing and didn’t press the matter. As long as his father got better, he could call him whatever he liked.

The faint scent of medicine quickly drifted through the courtyard, allowing the nerves Zhao Mengcheng had kept taut since waking up to relax slightly.

Suddenly, his expression sharpened. Something was wrong.

Zhao Chun, Zhao Mao, Zhao Xin… the three Zhao siblings.

These names were so familiar. They were the cannon fodder⁸ villains from the novel he had read before transmigrating.

Zhao Mengcheng’s eyes were filled with shock. He looked incredulously at Zhao Chun, who was currently bowing his head to blow on the fire, getting soot all over his face.

Was this silly child, who had been tricked by his uncle into selling his land for a pittance and who cared only for his father and brother, really the same cruel Great General from the book who slaughtered two hundred thousand surrendered troops?

His gaze shifted to Zhao Sanmei. This childish little girl, whose eyes were red and swollen like walnuts from crying all night and who only knew how to follow her brother around to help, was the same demon queen⁹ who would murder princes and leave a foul reputation for ten thousand years?

Zhao Mengcheng turned to look at the second son still unconscious on the bed. Well then, this one must be the Great Zhou’s massive embezzler, the treacherous official and poisonous scholar¹⁰ Zhao Mao, whose confiscated wealth after death would equal two national treasuries.

The three siblings featured prominently in the book, primarily responsible for aiding a tyrant and committing atrocities so that the male lead would have a righteous reason to rise in rebellion.

As villainous cannon fodder, the three siblings each met an end more tragic and desolate than the last.

Zhao Mengcheng couldn’t help but rub his temples. He had thought this was a simple case of transmigration, but it turned out he had entered the world of a book. That would have been fine on its own, but he had been gifted three future major villains, each with a list of crimes too long to count.

“Dad, what’s wrong? Is your head hurting? You should lie back down for a while. I can keep watch here,” Zhao Chun said, noticing his movement and speaking up in a rush of anxiety.

Look at how filial he was.

The boy’s eyes were crystal clear, filled to the brim with nothing but worry and care for his father.

According to the original owner’s memories, the elder of the twins was honest and simple by nature, a naive and kindhearted child.

In the novel, the original owner was supposed to die now, leaving the three children orphaned at a young age with no one to rely on.

Imagine if the original owner were gone and the second child fell seriously ill. Zhao Chun would still have agreed to sell their land. Although that would save his brother’s life, the three siblings would be left with nothing but this dilapidated house. Their only uncle was completely unreliable, and it was the sheer hardship of their lives that would eventually drive them down the wrong path.

Zhao Mengcheng raised an eyebrow. Now that he was here, he would never let these three children stray onto that dark path again.

Translator’s Notes