Chapter 1: Son of a Humble Family

This is Xiahe Village, an ordinary yet extraordinary little village.

Nestled against the mountains and by the water, the scenery is beautiful. The mountains are lush with trees, the waters are teeming with fish and shrimp, there are picket fences in front of the houses, loquat trees behind them, and melons and beans planted all around. It possesses the simplicity of thatched cottages and fences, as well as the tranquility of green hills and clear waters.

In the modern era, this place would absolutely qualify as the most beautiful village, but in ancient times, it was different; there was only poverty and backwardness, no beauty to be found.

At the western end of the village lies a high slope, from which one can take in most of the village at a glance. On this slope, a five or six-year-old boy with a round, tiger-like head stood looking at the village, sighing.

What good are green hills and clear waters if the transportation is inconvenient, one relies on the heavens for food, and suffers from the ravages of natural disasters? For those struggling at the subsistence level, what is there to appreciate besides food? Showing him the rising sun over the mountains is less practical than giving him a steamed bun made of coarse grains.

Is it a bit strange for a child to make such a remark?

Actually, no. Although his body is that of a five or six-year-old child, inside is a postgraduate student of ancient Chinese literature from the 21st century—someone who had been repeatedly trampled on the job market, possessing neither money, power, nor a girlfriend. After failing 100 consecutive job applications, he sighed before bed about how it was harder for a liberal arts student in ancient Chinese to find a job in their field than to ascend to heaven. He never expected that upon waking up, he would become this little brat named Zhu Ping'an, nicknamed "Xiao Zhi" (Little Piglet).

This body had fallen ill before he transmigrated; perhaps it hadn't made it, and he, not knowing how, had woken up to take its place.

After many days of probing, he learned this was the Ming Dynasty, an era where the Four Books and Five Classics and the eight-legged essay reigned supreme. He could only look up at the sky at a 45-degree angle and suffer internal injuries—it really was a job in his field.

Since he was here, he would have to make the best of it. Thinking of the embarrassment of having a degree in the 21st century with nowhere to apply it, since heaven had given him a chance at employment, it would be a waste of a divine gift not to seize it—especially since he was an orphan in his past life with no ties to hold him back.

"Xiao Zhi, Xiao Zhi, time to go home! Be careful, or you'll be crying your eyes out after your mother beats you again."

A group of wild children roared past below the slope, fearing that if they returned home late, they would be pinned to the ground and "rubbed" by their elders.

Xiao Zhi! He was drunk on this nickname. Even "Tiger" or "Stone" would have sounded better. Of course, he was only complaining; he knew the reason why ancient people gave children lowly names.

In the eyes of the ancients, children were difficult to raise because they had to pass through a series of barriers created by ghosts and spirits from birth; failing to pass meant losing their lives. Livestock were different; their lives were considered "lowly," so they didn't need to pass these barriers, which is why their survival rate was so high. Thus, people believed that the lower and less human-like a child's name was, the better. Didn't you see how high the survival rate of livestock was? The more like an animal, the easier it was to live, and the easier it was to deceive the ghosts of the underworld. If they were treated as livestock, they wouldn't have to face those barriers.

When Zhu Ping'an heard that there were other boys in the village named "Dog Sister" or even "Dog Shit," he felt a sense of relief at having survived a disaster. Compared to those two, "Xiao Zhi" was quite mild.

He had been in this era for over ten days, and Zhu Ping'an had gone from being unaccustomed to helplessly accepting the fact.

Living in this era, names and habits were secondary; the most important thing was the lifestyle. This was an era where old morals and rituals prevailed. Never mind the lack of electricity or the internet; the Three Fundamental Bonds and Five Constant Virtues, the Three Obediences and Four Virtues, and the concepts of ghosts, gods, and fate were rampant. Therefore, the stories in novels where the transmigrated protagonist has a "protagonist halo," shakes their body and the world submits, or opens a "golden finger" and becomes invincible, are pure nonsense. If you tried that here, you would have been burned to ashes by the village elders long ago. In a society where feudal rituals "eat people," if you show the slightest abnormality, you might be burned as someone possessed by a demon.

This is not an exaggeration. Old Man Wang in the village was forced to drink a large bowl of water mixed with the ashes of burned talismans just because he talked in his sleep for a few nights. Wang Er Mazi from the neighboring village learned to speak like a foreigner in the county town, and after showing off a few sentences upon returning, the village elders tied him to a pillar and exposed him to the sun for three days, claiming he was possessed by a ghost.

How can one person fight the entire world?

Therefore, for the ten-plus days he had been in this world, Zhu Ping'an had been trying his best to play the role of a child. He was cautious and careful, trying not to do anything out of the ordinary to avoid being tied to a wooden rack for a barbecue. He didn't want to be the "salt" for his own sacrifice.

It was getting late, and he had to get home quickly, or he would be scolded again. Zhu Ping'an moved his short legs and sprinted down from the high slope toward home.

Why did he feel a cool breeze blowing at his crotch? Could it be that his short legs had reached a lightning-fast speed?

Split-crotch pants?

How could he let a person with a mental age of over twenty wear split-crotch pants? How was he supposed to play happily like this?

This was intolerable! When he got back, he would definitely fight for the right not to wear split-crotch pants.

Walking along, the thatched cottages and adobe houses were laid out without any pattern. Xiahe Village, though nestled against mountains and water, still belonged to the impoverished countryside. The locals' use of the landscape was limited to meeting their basic needs: to build a house, they went up the mountain to cut a few trees for beams; if there was no rice for the pot, they went up the mountain to find wild vegetables and fruits, or caught a few small fish in the water to throw into the pot. It was a feudal small-scale peasant economy, living off the land. Most villagers struggled to fill their stomachs on their own small plots, and the only relatively wealthy ones were the few landlords.

The landlords had large estates and hundreds of acres of fertile land. The annual rent from leasing it out was enough for an ordinary family to struggle for a lifetime. With money, they could buy more land or open a few shops; money begets money, and life becomes sweeter than honey. Poor families couldn't even fill the gaps in their teeth with the output of their own small plots and had to rent land to farm. Since there was no policy for reducing land taxes in ancient times, after a year of hard work, once the exorbitant taxes and land rent were deducted, it was lucky if they had enough to feed the family.

The Zhu family was slightly better off, owning over ten acres of fertile land, making them a middle-class family in the village. However, they couldn't withstand having so many people, and with the eldest uncle not producing anything and spending a lot on books and exams, the old Zhu family was also living hand-to-mouth.

Of course, looking from the outside, the Zhu family was doing okay. Compared to the common thatched adobe houses in the village, the Zhu family at least had a courtyard with a wood-and-earth structure. In reality, however, the Zhu family lived no better than the average household.

As soon as Zhu Ping'an entered the door, he ran into his mother in this life, Chen Shi. Chen Shi was standing at the courtyard gate with her eyebrows raised and eyes wide, glaring at him. Seeing that he had returned in one piece, her expression softened like ice meeting spring; she had been waiting for him. Chen Shi was in her thirties, dressed like a young matron, with a hint of sharpness in her brows. She wore a chipped hairpin in her bun, and her clean, front-buttoned jacket and skirt had two patches on them.

"Mother, I don't want to wear split-crotch pants anymore," Zhu Ping'an said as soon as his short legs crossed the threshold, beginning his fight for the right to wear proper pants.

Before the words had even faded, his ear was pinched by Chen Shi.

"You little brat, are you trying to turn the world upside down? I've worked hard to raise you, scrimping and saving to make your clothes, and now you're complaining? How old are you to be refusing split-crotch pants!"

"Mother, ah, it hurts, it hurts! I'm not a two or three-year-old child anymore!" Zhu Ping'an cried out for mercy, his chubby hands pulling at Chen Shi's arm, standing on tiptoe to alleviate the pain.

"Pah, you're only five," Chen Shi said, looking down at her five-year-old youngest son. It was inexplicably amusing; her youngest son was much more lively than his older brother.

Although it was funny, Chen Shi's grip didn't loosen. This little brat had never been well-behaved, and after recovering from his illness a few days ago, he had become even more mischievous, running outside all day long.

"You know it hurts? Running wild all day long where I can't see you. If you get kidnapped by human traffickers, I'll finally have some peace!" Chen Shi glared at him. Thinking of the children who had gone missing in the county town made her heart flutter with fear, though the village was safe enough with people coming and going.

"Second Sister-in-law, what boy isn't wild? It's better to be sturdy. Don't punish Xiao Zhi," said Third Aunt Zhang, who was washing bowls by the well in the courtyard. She looked at Xiao Zhi with some envy and tried to persuade Chen Shi to calm down. Zhang Shi had just turned thirty but only had a daughter one year younger than Zhu Ping'an, so she was particularly envious that Chen Shi had two sons.

"Third one, don't plead for him. This little rascal would tear the roof off if he wasn't beaten for three days," Chen Shi said, dragging Zhu Ping'an by the ear into the kitchen.

"Tell me, will you dare to run off and not come home for meals again?" Chen Shi said loudly, but she took a peeled, hard-boiled egg from the steamer. After glancing out the window to make sure no one was watching, she quietly stuffed it into Zhu Ping'an's hand.

An egg! Zhu Ping'an's eyes lit up. After eating plain food for over ten days, he finally saw some meat.

This was impossible to refuse.

"It hurts, Mother, I won't dare to do it again," Zhu Ping'an said, taking the egg while pretending to howl in pain.

In the 21st century, eating was one of his few hobbies. When "A Bite of China" aired, he had scrimped and saved to eat everything cheap and delicious he could find; he could definitely be called a veteran foodie.

Pure, natural, and additive-free, it was soft and tender, and the taste was truly excellent. It felt countless times better than modern eggs—though perhaps that was because he hadn't tasted meat since arriving here.

"Little clever ghost," Chen Shi chuckled, tapping Zhu Ping'an on the forehead. She whispered, "Eat it quickly. When we get to the table later, your grandmother, whose heart is biased to the heavens, will give everything to the eldest branch again."

At this moment, Zhu Ping'an felt very warm inside. His family in this life, whether it was his sharp-tongued mother, his taciturn father, or his ten-year-old, unusually mature and honest older brother, all treated him well from the bottom of their hearts.

A kind father, a loving mother, and a loyal brother—warmth was everywhere.

This was the main reason Zhu Ping'an accepted the fact of his transmigration. As an orphan in the 21st century who had never felt the warmth of a family, he felt the love of a cow licking its calf here, and slowly became willing to stay.

"Mother, you're so good. When I grow up, I'll be very filial to you," Zhu Ping'an said, hugging Chen Shi's leg. *I am your son, and I will definitely be filial to you in the future.*

Chen Shi looked at her youngest son acting like a spoiled brat and was clearly pleased, feeling that her youngest son was much cuter than the eldest. When she had asked the eldest over earlier, that silly boy had the same attitude as his father, saying that stealing food wasn't something a "great man" would do, which had almost made Chen Shi flip with anger. She had to chase him out. Fortunately, her youngest son wasn't that rigid. She tapped his forehead with a smile, "If you stop making me angry, I'll thank the heavens. Wipe your mouth quickly so you don't get caught later."