Chapter 1

"…their cannons are not powerful enough, they can't…"

In a private hospital room, a middle-aged man by the bedside was reading aloud carefully.

Zhao Jin, lying on the bed, was already extremely weak. It was now difficult for him to even move his eyes. Zhao Jin wanted to tell his friend, who was reading, that he didn't like the book and didn't want to listen to it. He just wanted his friend to talk more about life and reminisce about the old days.

From the orphanage where he was a troublemaker to the hard work and struggle in society, after weathering many storms, his career finally showed some improvement. Then he suddenly fell seriously ill, and after several unsuccessful surgeries, he was on the brink of death. Zhao Jin, who had always been devoted to his work, found himself very lonely. Without parents and too busy with his career to start a family, he had no wife or children. In the end, only this friend from the orphanage visited and accompanied him every day.

Zhao Jin could feel that the little life force he had left was slipping away. He was unwilling, feeling that his time in this world was too short, which was unfair. Zhao Jin wanted to cry, but he couldn't even produce tears. Struggling, he said, "I don't want to die..."

To others, this sentence was just a slight fluctuation in his breathing, followed by everything becoming still.

Zhao Jin saw his friend stop reading, with a look of sorrow on his face. He vaguely heard someone shouting and the sound of hurried footsteps, then everything turned dark...

*********

"Son, if anything happens to you, I won't live either!"

The voice seemed to come from far away, yet it was also right by his ear. Death seemed to have been a long time ago, yet it felt like it had just happened. Zhao Jin suddenly realized he was still alive.

It was indeed dark in front of him, but that was because his eyes were closed. Zhao Jin opened his eyes. If he could open his eyes, wasn't he supposed to be unable to move?

He seemed to have turned into a child, and his body felt very weak. In a mix of joy and shock, Zhao Jin finally noticed the differences.

"Xiao Jin is awake, Xiao Jin, you're awake!" A middle-aged woman's face appeared in Zhao Jin's field of vision. Her face was a bit dark, and she looked well-fed. Her face was full of tears, but also of joy.

Seeing this face, Zhao Jin felt a sudden sense of familiarity and weakly called out, "Mom." After calling out, he couldn't help but burst into tears, realizing he was alive again.

"Mom?" The woman was a bit taken aback by the title but quickly reacted, wanting to reach out to touch Zhao Jin's face but then pulling back. She stood up and shouted out the door, "You scoundrel, the child is awake, why haven't you gone to get the doctor yet?"

Only then did Zhao Jin notice that the woman he called "Mom" had disheveled hair but was still wearing an ancient hairstyle. Her clothes were also in ancient style, and the room's decor was similar to what he had seen in ancient TV dramas.

What was going on? Was this child named the same as him? Zhao Jin was incredibly surprised, but he quickly stopped thinking about it. No matter what the situation was, the most important thing was that he was alive. He cried out loud, tears streaming down his face.

The woman hurriedly sat by Zhao Jin's bed and said urgently, "Xiao Jin, don't cry. Forget what just happened. What do you want to eat? I'll make it for you."

Zhao He, He Cuihua, his mother, the daughter of a butcher, these impressions floated in Zhao Jin's mind. He was very afraid of his mother, who hated cowardly and timid children, and he often got scolded for it.

The tears on his mother's face and the joy when he woke up were something he had never seen before. The current concern and care made him feel a bit uncomfortable.

Zhao He suddenly stood up, opened the door, and shouted into the courtyard, "You scoundrel, still standing there dazed? Go find the doctor quickly!"

The sudden movement and loud voice startled Zhao Jin, and his crying stopped. A familiar feeling rose from his heart. This was his real mother, the fiery and irritable woman. Unconsciously, the memories of the previous Zhao Jin and this body had merged. He was a bit confused, unsure if the orphan's life and the near-death experience on the hospital bed were real or just a dream.

His crying stopped, which startled Zhao He, who quickly turned back. More hurried footsteps approached the door, and a fat, large man appeared, looking into the room and saying roughly, "Why aren't you crying anymore? What's wrong now?"

Zhao Jin almost called out "Dad," but remembering Zhao He's unfamiliar reaction to "Mom," he hesitated and softly called, "Father."

Zhao Zhen, a hundred-household officer of the Xuzhou Guard, his father, a hereditary military household, whose main occupation was... beheading...

Thinking of this, Zhao Jin suddenly remembered Zhao Zhen holding a large knife, cutting off a criminal's head, and blood spurting out. He shuddered involuntarily.

Zhao Zhen, hearing the sudden crying, thought Zhao Jin had lost consciousness again. Seeing his pale face and trembling body but still conscious, he and He Cuihua breathed a sigh of relief.

After relaxing, Zhao Zhen's eyes narrowed, and he scowled, "You're a son of the Xuzhou Guard, look at your cowardly and weak appearance!"

Before he could finish, He Cuihua flew into a rage, pushing Zhao Zhen out the door and shouting, "You scoundrel, what's so great about your Xuzhou Guard? Aren't you just a bunch of poor farmers? Go get the doctor for Xiao Jin, or I'll fight you to the death if anything happens to him!"

Zhao Zhen, caught off guard, stumbled backward a few steps, almost falling. He finally steadied himself, but the door was already closed.

"What do you know, woman? Didn't your butcher father teach you the three obediences and four virtues?" Zhao Zhen grumbled, then turned to see his monkey on the wooden frame in the courtyard, calmly eating fruit, completely unaffected by the commotion. Zhao Zhen spat and said, "I'll cut you into pieces one day."

The monkey didn't even lift its eyelids, and Zhao Zhen was helpless. At that moment, the courtyard door opened, and a thin man walked in. This man looked very similar to Zhao Zhen but had a sallow complexion and was breathing heavily, looking very weak. He was wearing a blue cotton robe with two patches, but it was still relatively clean.

Seeing Zhao Zhen, the thin man complained, "Brother, Xiao Jin is only ten, still a child. Why did you take him to see executions? Our Zhao family only has this one heir, and you scared him..."

"Rubbish! He Cuihua scolded me, and now you scold me. If I didn't go to execute people, where would the money come from to treat you and buy food and clothes? How many people in the Xuzhou Guard have to work hard without a place to sell their labor? I want to pass on this good life to future generations, but you keep criticizing me!" Zhao Zhen, who was still calm in front of He Cuihua, had no patience with the thin man.

As he was scolding, the door opened again, and He Cuihua stood at the door, hands on her hips, shouting, "What are you shouting in the courtyard? Go get the doctor, and you still have the nerve to argue with Zhao Zhen."

Seeing his wife's anger, Zhao Zhen lost his temper and walked out. Zhao Zhen nodded and said, "Sister-in-law," then followed him. Before they left the courtyard, they heard He Cuihua shouting, "Buy three pounds of mutton and some fine pastries from Guiyuanzhai to nourish Xiao Jin."

After they left the courtyard, Zhao Zhen sighed in relief and said with a smile, "If he can eat meat and pastries, Xiao Jin must be fine."

"Useless brat, can't even stand a little blood. When he gets better, I'll give him a good lesson!" Zhao Zhen grumbled.

Zhao Zhen turned to speak but was taken aback, looking closely and asking, "Brother, why are your eyes so red?"

Zhao Zhen quickly lowered his head, rubbing his eyes hard and muttering, "Got sand in my eyes, what's the big deal?"

Seeing his brother's pretense, Zhao Zhen smiled and shook his head, not pressing further.

Zhao Jin heard some of the conversation outside, but not all of it. Despite the rough woman's shouting and the fat man's scolding, Zhao Jin could feel deep love and concern. This feeling was both familiar and strange, something he had never experienced in his previous life as an orphan.

Zhao Jin finally recovered from his incredible surprise. He knew he was in Xuzhou, but he had no idea what year it was.

"Mom, what year is it now?" Zhao Jin asked softly.

He Cuihua, who was busy tidying up the room, trembled at the question. She quickly came over, her face full of worry, and after checking that Zhao Jin was fine, she breathed a sigh of relief. She gently stroked Zhao Jin's forehead and said, "You really scared us. It's the 38th year of the Wanli era!"