Dashun, Jianghuai Zeye, Yixing City.
The polished bluestone slabs reflected the moonlight like a mirror; the fallen leaves did not pile up but drifted on the ground.
The wind surged in from the vast river and flowed away through the open rooftops, seeping through the cracks of the doors in strands.
As if moved by the wind, the weeds twisted and stood erect; inside the adobe house, the deadly still young man began to show signs of life.
Hungry!
So hungry!
Liang Qu opened his eyes, unfocused, feeling only the pain in his stomach like a knife twisting, curling up on the wooden bed.
"Liang Qu, his name is also Liang Qu? Mother died in difficult labor, father died of a chill a month ago, what kind of standard beginning is this? Only a boat, a room..."
"No, the boat was stolen too, Scabby Zhang took advantage of my youth... Gross, the grass grows so disgustingly, Toad turning into a spirit?"
Fighting back the hunger, he digested the messy fragments of memory, Liang Qu's expression becoming bewildered.
Jianghuai Marshland, feeding thousands of fishermen, and he had become one of those humble fishermen?
The yellowed wastewater, the piercing sirens, the painfully burning nasal mucosa, the huge bright spot cast on the water surface by the strong flashlight beam.
It wasn't a dream.
I really did drown trying to save someone...
That's right, staying up late to finish work until midnight, how could I have the energy to save someone, diving into the water so clearly and plainly.
"What a pity, no children, otherwise could've snagged some college entrance exam bonus points, get ahead at the starting line."
Liang Qu collapsed on the bed, feeling a profound weariness rising from the deepest part of his heart, as if the past twenty-something years had been like the trace of fallen leaves, nonexistent.
Nothing gained, nothing desired, nothing achieved.
Life really is utterly meaningless.
Gurgle.
Fine, there is meaning to it, I'm just extremely damn hungry.
Hunger drove Liang Qu to survive; transmigration cured his severe myopia as if clearing away a layer of mist, the surroundings becoming exceptionally clear, but looking all around, there was nothing but a bed, a stove, an empty jar.
Memories of death attacked once again.
"Get out, out, out, jinx, wanting to borrow food, my six kids are still hungry."
"You know, the autumn tax is almost..."
No, water first.
The stomach pain constantly stimulated his brain, and Liang Qu grimaced, shuffling off the bed, barely supporting himself on the earthen wall, staggering outside the house. But just a few steps away, he was gasping for air so badly that he had to sit on the threshold to rest.
"This is too weak."
Liang Qu was breaking into a cold sweat, his palms too feeble to open. He couldn't believe how weak his body was, was he going to die once more upon arriving?
The icy fear seemed like a giant hand gripping his heart.
What nonsense that having died once, there's no fear of death; that fear is etched into one's genes.
Clatter, clatter.
The wheel hubs sounded on the bluestone bricks, making their distinctive noise.
Someone's here!
His heart nearly leapt out of his throat.
"Ignore it, go around..."
"Bad luck, don't get entangled with starving ghosts..."
He couldn't make out what the cart drivers were discussing, only hearing the sound of the wheels fade into the distance.
The words he wanted to say choked back down. The street's darkness seemed endless, and Liang Qu felt a coldness rising from the bottom of his heart as the blood in his body grew gradually colder.
He wanted to find a well, but no longer had the strength to take a step.
"Ashui, why are you sitting here?"
Ashui, who? Me?
He glanced around and saw a dark-skinned man standing by his side. Liang Qu blurted out, "Uncle Chen?"
Memory informed him this man was named Chen Qingjiang, his neighbor.
Right, I am Ashui.
The two lifetimes shared the same name since Qu character includes the water element, so the villagers called him Ashui.
Liang Qu breathed steadily; the preceding scene left him with no desire to ask anyone for anything, and he casually said, "I got tired walking, just sitting down to rest. What about you, Uncle Chen?"
"Just got back from selling fish in town."
"In town?"
"Yeah, these days the fish are plump and easy to sell, definitely have to go to town. I'd rather lose out to the fishing enclosures than rent their boats. I sell to whoever I want, but you, sitting here all well, resting at your doorstep. Aren't you afraid of catching a chill?"
Chen Qingjiang moved closer out of curiosity. When he saw the withered appearance, he was taken aback with a start.
How did it come to this?
Amidst his shock, he suddenly remembered that Liang Qu no longer had a father and feared that his home had long since run out of food. Subconsciously, he reached into his bosom, yet hesitated as he was about to reveal what he held.
What he had was a meat-filled pastry, which he had bought for his son, who was crying fiercely, after walking over a dozen miles to bring his catch to the city and earning eight extra cents.
It was already dark and the pastry, still warm in his embrace, was about to be given away; to say he was not pained by this would be a lie.
"Daddy, why doesn't Brother Shui come to play with me anymore?"
"Because Brother Shui's daddy is gone and he's too busy to play with you."
"Why did he go?"
"..."
Chen Shun was Chen Qingjiang's eldest son, only six years old, and he enjoyed playing with Liang Qu on normal days.
Chen Qingjiang thought back to when he had been in his teens, Liang Qu was about the size of his own child, also keen to play with him. In a daze, it seemed as if their shadows overlapped.
Alas...
Chen Qingjiang took the pastry out of his bosom, unwrapping the oil paper around it.
"Ashui, eat up."
"Uncle Chen! This?"
Liang Qu's adam's apple bobbed. He had thought he had hit a dead end, but unexpectedly a glimmer of hope appeared. He wanted to say something, but the rich aroma was truly tempting, causing him to tremble as he took it into his hands.
His cracked lips oozed fresh blood, mixing the taste of iron with the scent of wheat and meat. He stuffed the pastry into his mouth in one go.
The little saliva he had left was wrung out, mixing with the pastry as it went down to his stomach. Liang Qu swallowed a few bites and finally had the strength to hurriedly express his gratitude.
"Eat up, and head home once you're done. Don't hang around the door anymore."
"Mm..."
Chen Qingjiang brushed off his pants and stood up to leave, his heart feeling even heavier.
If it's like this now, how much harder will winter be? Should he discuss with Adi and share some of their grain? But their second child had just been to the doctor recently; could they even spare it?
The sound of straw sandals scraping against the muddy road grew fainter as he walked away.
"Ah, delicious!"
After finishing the last bite of the pastry, Liang Qu looked at Chen Qingjiang's retreating figure and couldn't utter a sound.
In recent years, without disaster or famine, a stone of rice cost about a thousand cents.
Uncle Chen's household consisted of five mouths: an elder, two youngsters, and a wife. At the very least, four stones of rice were needed for a season, costing them about thirty-three cents a day just for the grain.
Fishing in the spring, hunting in the autumn, farming in the summer, and struggling through the winter—during the autumn when grass was plentiful and fish were fat, Uncle Chen's daily income was roughly eighty cents. Although that might sound sufficient, it was far from enough.
Cloth, salt, vegetables, all required money, and the fishing taxes were worse than the agricultural taxes. Not to mention various miscellaneous fees; without going into detail, just the mooring fee at the wharf cost two cents a day, and during the flood season, it could even be four cents. In winter, the income drastically dropped, and if illness struck during that time...
Such a meat-filled pastry might have been hard for Chen Qingjiang to come by for his own child, but now it had become Liang Qu's lifesaving grace.
Indeed, adversity reveals true friendship.
The night sky was studded with stars, shining resplendently.
The foggy little town could not compare to this wonderful vista, which served as a constant reminder—this was an entirely different world.
Liang Qu leaned against the wall, feeling a tide of loneliness surging over him. Now, he couldn't fish and had no means of making a living.
He couldn't fathom how he would survive, how could he shamelessly speak of repaying the favor?
As for making money with modern technology... that was difficult as well.
A quick glance at the vacant streets revealed many houses with stair-step gable walls, a characteristic sign that the walls were taller than the eaves, indicating that production at this time had developed sufficiently for brick-and-stone structures to replace the old plank structures. The eaves no longer needed to extend out to protect the walls from rain, and, ultimately, to prevent the spread of fires, the Fire-sealing Mountain Wall structure with walls taller than the eaves was created.
The widespread use of brick-and-stone architecture implied that Dashun's productivity was at least comparable to that of the Ming and Qing dynasties in his former life.
His original self belonged to the lowest of the low, seldom encountering anything of quality, but Liang Qu knew that white sugar, fine salt, horseshoes, steel-making, soap, these things were essentially unrelated to him.
Furthermore, this world was not simple. He remembered that in a neighboring town there was a fierce person who could punch through a man-sized granite boulder, clearly no ordinary individual.
But relationships were no use.
Why did the ancient people favor male offspring? Just look at the boats that were seized; without a strong laborer in the house, one could be subjugated to death.
If it was like this with boats, what more if he accumulated cash? The struggle for an orphan to survive in ancient times was as daunting as reaching for the heavens; if not sold by others, one awaited death.
Damn it, why start off as a fisherman, and to top it off, a fisherman whose boat was stolen? Even being a farmer would have been better!
Difficult, difficult, difficult!
Just then, a powerful surge of Long Qi suddenly pierced through Liang Qu's mind, turning countless memories topsy-turvy, like swallowing an entire pack of mint candy on a summer day, feeling a head-to-toe coolness.
Damn, damn, damn, what's happening?
Liang Qu was panicking.
Fortunately, the sensation came as swiftly as it went. As the strangeness in his mind gradually subsided, it was as if the clouds had cleared to reveal the blue sky once more.
Before him, the image of a cauldron with an odd shape emerged within his sea of consciousness, its boundless mystical patterns interwoven, leaving him utterly astonished.
Its name—Ze Cauldron!