Chapter 4

### Chapter 1: The Young Boy

Zhao Liuhu, the hunter from Zhao Family Village, was recently very worried because his second son, Erwa, had been acting dazed. This was the only heir to carry on the family name, and the situation had Zhao Liuhu in a panic. He blamed his wife for not watching the child and for letting him fall into the well, and he gave her a severe beating. The ten-year-old child had fallen into the icy well water, and although he hadn't been injured, he was almost lifeless when rescued, his body frozen purple. It took a day and a night of rubbing and massaging to bring him back to life. The child, whose real name was Zhao Shi and who was called Shitou, was usually very lively and strong, but after he woke up, he didn't say a word. Perhaps the cold well water had seeped into his eyes, making his gaze chilling. Zhao Wanshan, who often dealt with wild animals in the mountains, could see the fierce light in the child's eyes, the kind only a mother wolf protecting her cubs would have. This frightened Zhao Wanshan, and he first called the village's half-trained doctor. The old man poked and prodded Zhao Shi for a long time before slowly explaining something about excessive cold and external evil invading the body, and then prescribed a traditional remedy. Zhao Liuhu, who couldn't read, still hurried to the town over twenty miles away to get the herbs, but the treatment had no effect. After ten days of taking the medicine, the child was still dazed and wouldn't speak.

The villagers believed in ghosts and spirits, so Zhao Liuhu quickly invited the village's fortune-teller, Zhao Banshen.

When Zhao Banshen arrived at Zhao Liuhu's house, he immediately claimed that the child had been possessed by a water ghost and that an exorcism was necessary. An exorcism was a rare event in Zhao Family Village, and on the day of the ritual, dozens of villagers gathered around the altar Zhao Banshen had set up, watching with a mix of reverence and curiosity. But the outcome was awkward. Perhaps Zhao Banshen's powers were weak, or the water ghost was too strong, or perhaps Zhao Banshen's ritual worked. After half an hour of chanting and waving, the child, who had been silent for days, suddenly spoke.

"Stop this nonsense and get out." The voice was neither loud nor harsh, but the chill in it made everyone shiver.

Zhao Banshen, who had been performing the ritual, froze. Someone shouted, "Ghost!" and the crowd scattered. Zhao Banshen, pale and trembling, ran away, looking like a rabbit hit by an arrow.

Zhao Shi watched the fleeing crowd with mixed feelings. When he woke up, he realized something was wrong. The concept of time travel, while unbelievable, had been explored in movies since the 1980s and was no longer a novelty in the 21st century. However, it was more accurate to say he had possessed a body. His battle-hardened, steel-like body was gone, and now his soul, that of a cold and cunning warrior, inhabited the fragile body of a child from an unknown era.

"Son, don't scare your father. Is it you? Shitou?" Zhao Liuhu and his family gathered around Zhao Shi.

Zhao Shi glanced at them. The woman who looked to be in her thirties was the child's mother, and the two younger ones were his sister and younger sister. The man was the child's father. Over the past few days, Zhao Shi had learned all about them. The family's care and concern had stirred some distant memories, but they were from before he was thirteen.

Zhao Shi smiled faintly. "I'm fine." Although the situation was strange, time travel and soul possession were not new concepts in his time. It took him a few days to process it, but he didn't panic. His disciplined and steel-like nerves kept him from asking stupid questions like where he was or what year it was. Instead, he observed his surroundings carefully and concluded that he was still in China, based on the people's appearance and dialect, which sounded like it was from the northwest. The people's clothing and the house's furnishings confirmed that this was not the modern, polluted world he knew.

But Zhao Shi wasn't too concerned about his situation. He had no parents, no wife, and no friends. The things that mattered to ordinary people meant nothing to him. What difference did it make where he lived?

Zhao Shi was satisfied with his new body. At thirty, his old body had been deteriorating, but this new one was full of vitality. He stood up, stretched his arms in front of the family's astonished gaze, and took a deep breath of the clean, unpolluted air, muttering, "I'm still alive..."

A year passed quickly.

The village was nestled against Niutou Mountain, named for its two peaks that resembled a bull's horns. The mountain was not very high but was covered in dense forests and teemed with wildlife. In the morning, mist rose from the forest, creating a mystical and beautiful scene. A clear stream flowed through the village, winding from west to east, with fish swimming in its waters. The stream was called Qingxi, and the village, with its mountains and water, was a picturesque and serene place.

Zhao Family Village was isolated and peaceful. The people were kind and simple, living in harmony with each other. Although they were not wealthy, they were content and good-natured. Living there for a long time felt like being in a secluded paradise, far from the noise and bustle of the modern world.

Such a peaceful life might seem boring to any other modern soul. The beautiful scenery and natural surroundings were not enough to compensate for the lack of modern conveniences like the internet, television, and telephones. For most people, the village might be a nice place to visit, but few would want to live there permanently. Zhao Shi, however, was different. He found the life here satisfying. After a tumultuous past, he felt he had found a haven. The murderous urges that had once boiled within him like a wild beast gradually subsided in the peaceful life. Although he didn't know how long this would last, he had come to regard the village as his second home.

The village was not entirely isolated. Tax collectors came every year after the autumn harvest, bringing news from the outside world. Zhao Shi learned that the village was under the jurisdiction of Gongyi County in the Western Qin Dynasty, and the current year was the 25th year of the Zhengde Emperor's reign.

The name "Western Qin" puzzled Zhao Shi for a few days. He knew that the Western Qin had existed in Chinese history, but he was not very familiar with it. He remembered reading that it was a regime established by the Xianbei people during the Five Barbarians' invasion of China. However, further inquiries revealed that this was not the case. The Western Qin had been a short-lived regime, lasting only a few decades, but this Western Qin had been established for over two hundred years, and the current emperor was a Han Chinese. Zhao Shi realized that history in this world had changed significantly and was no longer reliable. He was not sure if this was still China, but it was certainly not the China he knew.

Zhao Liuhu watched his son, who was performing strange movements in the courtyard, and sighed. Since the child had fallen into the well a year ago and nearly died, he had changed completely. He rarely spoke and had become distant from his family. This was not Zhao Wanshan's biggest concern. The child was still alive, which was the most important thing. However, after scaring away Zhao Banshen, the child had grown stronger and taller, almost as tall as a fifteen-year-old boy. This was a good thing, as Zhao Wanshan himself was a tall and strong man, and his son naturally followed in his footsteps.

But the child's behavior had become increasingly strange. He made bags filled with stones from the river and tied them to his body, running around the village until he was exhausted. He also practiced boxing and kicking, with movements that seemed deadly. Zhao Wanshan had never taught his son such violent techniques, and the villagers were already spreading rumors that the child was possessed. This had to be addressed.

It was time to find a wife for the child, to dispel the bad luck. Zhao Wanshan thought to himself...

...

"Shitou, eat slowly, don't choke." Shitou's mother gently patted his back, showing her affection.

Zhao Shi slowed down his ravenous eating, but remained silent. Over the past year, he had adapted to his role in the family, though his long-formed habits were hard to change. He was still reserved and did not act like an eleven-year-old child. Pretending to be innocent was not something he could do. The two young girls in the house were now afraid of their changed brother, looking at him with wary eyes. However, Zhao Wangshi, their mother, continued to love him as much as ever, which warmed Zhao Shi's heart.

"Shitou, I need to talk to you," Zhao Wanshan said, looking at his son intently.

Zhao Shi put down his chopsticks. The cold and indifferent look on his face made Zhao Wanshan feel as if a large stone was blocking his chest, but he couldn't be angry. Dealing with a son who seemed like a completely different person was difficult. Zhao Wanshan couldn't bring himself to scold or hit him as he used to. The cold, icy eyes of his son made him feel as if he had been doused in cold water, making it impossible to scold him.

"Ahem." Zhao Wanshan cleared his throat, suppressing his anger. As the head of the family, he felt a sense of helplessness, but his voice still carried a hint of negotiation. "Shitou, tomorrow you'll go to the city with me to see your third brother. It's time for you to..."

Before he could finish, the courtyard gate slammed open, and a loud voice called out, "Uncle and Aunt, are you home? Little San has come to visit you..."