Chapter 1

Once again, Yang Heng thought to himself, he had been pinned down by the so-called "monkey press," which is also known as a nightmare. In folk terms, it's called "monkey press," "tiger press," or "ghost press." According to scientific explanations, it's when one part of the brain is awake while the other is still asleep. When Yang Heng woke up and found he couldn't move, he knew he was being haunted by a nightmare again. This feeling was all too familiar. He told himself not to panic and to take it slowly.

He wiggled his little finger, and fortunately, it moved. He tried to open his eyes, but his eyelids felt heavy, as if something was pressing down on them. This was quite normal; out of ten nightmares, eight times he couldn't open his eyes. He then shook his head, which was the most important step to break free from the nightmare. He shook and shook, but to no avail.

"Ah, why is this nightmare lasting so long? I can't shake it off," Yang Heng became anxious. "Alright, let's go through the routine again. First, wiggle my toes, one, two, three. Good, the toes move easily. Now, wiggle my fingers, one, two, three, four, five. All five fingers can move, though not much. Ah, right, the other hand, one, two, three, four, five. They can all move, just not much."

He tried to open his eyes again, but his eyelids felt heavy, as if something was pressing down on them. This was different from usual. He shook his head.

"Heng'er, you're awake. Are you hungry? Mother will get you something to eat right away." It was indeed a dream. Mother, who had passed away many years ago, and this wasn't even her voice. It sounded a bit like a Shaanxi accent. He ignored it and continued to shake his head, one, two, three... "Wake up, wake up, you must wake up," Yang Heng grew even more anxious.

"Heng'er, did you get impatient? Mother is here, Mother is here. I made you some chicken soup. I specially killed the rooster that crows in our house. The doctor said you need to be well-nourished after your injury."

The woman who called herself "Mother" appeared again, babbling on. Then Yang Heng felt himself being helped to sit up. He was sitting, but someone was still supporting him from behind, or he would have fallen over. At this moment, Yang Heng didn't have time to think about anything else because a bowl was already at his mouth, and something was being poured into it. Was this the chicken soup the woman mentioned? Indeed, it smelled strongly of chicken soup. When had chicken soup ever smelled so strong? He must still be dreaming. Even though he would forget this when he woke up, he might as well enjoy the rich chicken soup in his dream.

"Swallow, swallow," Yang Heng drank greedily. Fortunately, he could still swallow in his dream, or how could he enjoy such a delicious and fragrant chicken soup? He swallowed greedily, savoring the good stuff.

"Don't rush, don't rush. Look at you, there's plenty of chicken soup," the woman was delighted. If he couldn't swallow, he would have starved to death.

But in Yang Heng's mind, he wondered, "Am I injured? If I were, shouldn't I be getting an IV? I shouldn't feel hungry, right? This is a problem. I need to think about it. Also, the bed feels uneven, with some parts big and some small, making me uncomfortable. And what is this covering me? It sounds like grass rustling."

"Wah, wah, wah." Who was crying? Yang Heng heard the sound again, or perhaps he woke up from the dream again. "You old thing, our child just went to eavesdrop on that so-called scholar teaching. You punished our child so harshly. If anything happens to our child, I'll fight you to the death."

"Wife, I was wrong, I was wrong. But you know, these days, Li Sanlang has been pressuring us. If we lose our shop, where will we go? And that scholar only came to talk after Li Sanlang arrived. If I don't punish this boy, they might send Heng'er to the authorities."

"Child, child, my poor child. Learning to read and write isn't something our family can afford. Why didn't you listen? You even went to the private school to learn. And you, my heartless father, just because of Li Sanlang, you made him kneel by the stove. Is that a good place to kneel?"

Yang Heng roughly understood the situation. He might have traveled through time, or he was still dreaming. This dream was so long, and he had already drunk the chicken soup several times, but it tasted less and less strong each time. It must still be the same chicken. This family didn't seem to be doing well. What kind of stove was it? Who was Li Sanlang, and what was his identity? Why couldn't he learn to read and write?

"… Mrs. Yang, Confucius said, 'Do not look at what is contrary to propriety, do not listen to what is contrary to propriety.' I advise you to agree to Li Sanlang's demands, or else, hehe, we'll see each other in court." The scholar who had made him kneel by the stove had come, but he seemed to be speaking on behalf of Li Sanlang.

But this stepmother wasn't to be trifled with. "Get out, you so-called scholar. Just because I call you 'sir,' you think you can act superior. What do you mean by 'do not look at what is contrary to propriety, do not listen to what is contrary to propriety'? Do you think I don't understand? Get out, get out, get out. If Li Sanlang wants the shop, let him come and say it himself."

"Ah, how can you hit people? Crazy woman, crazy woman, I won't talk to you." It seemed the stepmother had hit the so-called scholar with something, but he probably wasn't a real scholar, just someone who knew a few characters. He might run a private school or something else.

"Mrs. Yang, I've come to change the medicine on your son's eyes." "Ah, it's Doctor Wang. Please come in, come in. I'm troubling you again." "Mrs. Yang, you're too kind."

"Heng'er, are you awake? Mother will help you sit up and remove the medicine from your eyes." Yang Heng wondered why he couldn't see anything, and realized there was a bandage on his face, covering his eyes. He hoped his eyes were fine.

Yang Heng was anxious as his stepmother helped him sit up. "Doctor, why can't my child move or speak? When will he be better?"

"Mrs. Yang, I told you, I can guarantee the eyes will be cured, but the soul needs to be called back. Have you found someone to do that?" "Yes, I've found a Taoist and a monk. They both said he will be fine soon."

"Then don't worry, Mrs. Yang. It takes a long time for the soul to return. Have you noticed any improvement in your son these past few days?"

"Yes, yes. Heng'er could only move his fingers before, but now he can move his wrists." Indeed, after a few days of effort, Yang Heng could move his wrists and ankles, but he still thought this might be a dream, an endless dream.

"That's good, that's good. This is a sign of improvement." Slowly, the bandages on his face were removed layer by layer.

"How is it, Heng'er? Can you see Mother?" Yang Heng slowly opened his eyes, focusing, focusing, focusing again, "Ah, ghost!" When he opened his eyes, he saw a pale face with many scars, and he screamed and fainted.

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