Chapter 2

When Yang Heng woke up again, he slowly opened his eyes and looked around. He found that there was nothing much around him, just two earthen walls and a thatched roof.

"I'm up." Hmm, I can actually sit up, it must have been a dream, otherwise how could I have recovered so quickly? He turned over and stood up, but the feeling wasn’t very good, he felt quite weak.

"Heng'er, you're awake, you're better, you're really better, hahaha, heaven has blessed my child." It turned out it wasn’t a dream, the person who had scared him unconscious in the dream appeared before him. However, her face wasn’t pale now, but rather a bit dark, with a face full of bumps. And what was she wearing? Grayish-white clothes, like something from an ancient TV show. What was going on?

Perhaps when he first opened his eyes, everything looked white, but he should thank his mother for this scare, otherwise he wouldn’t know when he would have woken up.

His mother patted him all over, checking if there was any discomfort, while Yang Heng looked around. The low thatched house, the bed with something laid on it, which looked like it was stuffed with grass inside. He was in an inner room, and from the angle of the sunlight, it should be in the east wing.

"Mother, stop touching me, I’m fine, just a bit weak. I want to go out for a walk, oh, where’s Father?" Ah, why did he call so smoothly? What is 'Father'? Ah, right, it means dad, "That old man, I haven’t given him a good face for days. He goes out every day after eating. Don’t mind him. Son, are you hungry? I’ll get you some food." His mother rushed out and soon came back with a black bowl. This, this is a pottery bowl. What era is this? And the food, let me taste it, hmm, there’s millet and sorghum, just these two.

He wanted to ask, but didn’t know how to start. His mother said that his father had punished him, which led to his eyes being burned and him fainting by the stove. Who knows what his father’s attitude towards him is? Better not to ask, otherwise his father might think he’s a monster and throw him into the stove again, though he still didn’t know what kind of stove it was.

Yang Heng stepped out and found that there were actually front and back yards. This must be a two-courtyard house. There were two more rooms in the back, which were much smaller. The doors were broken, and he could see through the cracks that they were piled with all sorts of things, mostly stones and some iron pieces. The other room was in better condition, at least the door was intact and locked.

Stepping out of the main door, he found another room in the east wing. This was a frame-style house, with some door panels around it. This is when Yang Heng realized what the stove was. It wasn’t a stove for cooking, but a forge. His head started to hurt, as if he remembered something. It seemed that when the sour scholar came to complain, his father was melting some ore, which led to Yang Heng standing by the forge. His mother didn’t think the forge could burn him, let alone change his soul.

Yang Heng was relieved that he fell backward, not forward, otherwise he might not have survived. Thinking about it, he couldn’t help but touch his face, "Ah!" he exclaimed.

"Heng'er, what’s wrong? Are you uncomfortable somewhere?" "No, no, Mother, you go about your business." "Alright, if anything happens, call Mother. Don’t be like last time when you got burned. You’re ten years old, if you can’t take it, why didn’t you call Mother? Mother should have noticed you were so close to the stove. If that old man had been so close, he wouldn’t have been able to take it either."

What made Yang Heng exclaim? It turned out his face was also covered in bumps. Hearing his mother’s words, he rolled up his sleeves and found that he was indeed a child, with small arms and legs. But why were his arms also covered in bumps? Looking closer, it seemed they were burn marks from sparks. "Oh, no wonder I fainted, my arms must have suffered a lot," and his mother’s face also had these bumps.

It seemed this was the result of forging. From his earliest memories, he could already wield a hammer, and his head was full of images of forging. This body must be quite strong, much stronger than his previous one. But no matter how strong, it couldn’t compare to his original body. Could he go back? It was unlikely that he could faint himself back.

Lost in thought, Yang Heng stepped out of the main door. "Young Master Yang, are you better? Are you going to steal some learning again?" "Brother, it’s been a while since you’ve come out to play." "Grandma, ha ha, Little Dingzi, hello." Yang Heng happily greeted the people around him, just as he remembered.

But after Yang Heng walked past, the situation changed. "This child is so pitiful, he’s about to have no home. In this world, it’s better to be rich." The women behind him whispered, and Yang Heng’s mood became heavy, but he still wanted to look around.

Outside, it was just a large village, and most of the houses were like his thatched house. Occasionally, he saw tiled roofs and black doors. There wasn’t much difference.

However, this street seemed to have more people moving around, and there were many houses like Yang Heng’s with shops. Or perhaps every house had a shop. He randomly walked into one, "Young Master Yang is better, feel free to look around." Inside was a desk for accounts, and an old man stood behind it. He couldn’t remember the old man’s name, and he had never been in this shop before. Looking closer, it was a small restaurant.

Yang Heng quickly left. What was there to see in a restaurant? In a jewelry shop, they wouldn’t even give him a good look. In a general store or a coffin shop, it was bad luck, so he didn’t look. However, there were more closed shops on this street than open ones. He didn’t know why, and his memory wasn’t that clear.

Wandering around, Yang Heng came back. What era was this? It was so boring, and there were no good shops to go into. Restaurants, inns, cosmetic shops, sewing shops, grocery shops, basically everything was on this street. But the shops didn’t have much stock, and many people seemed to recognize Yang Heng. "Young Master Yang, you’re better, are you shopping?" "Ah, Uncle San, Grandma, hello..." Yang Heng responded casually, it seemed he had good relations with people, but there was still a lot of gossip behind his back.

But where was the private school? Yang Heng was a bit puzzled, it seemed his memory didn’t want to come back.

"Brat, are you dead? If you’re not dead, get back here quickly."

Page flip, AD starts

Page flip, AD ends