Chapter 7

I had another dream, a dream about the vagrants I had killed, and then I killed them again, smashing them with bricks until even their mothers wouldn't recognize the mangled flesh, and even zombies couldn't come back to life from such a state.

In the ice cellar, the faces of the women I had hidden there, some graceful, some alluring, some bright, some sweet, were filled with helplessness and dependence, so vivid yet lacking a sense of reality. When I tried to embrace and kiss them, these scenes of warmth and softness suddenly stirred, like a deep vortex, turning into a rippling surface illuminated by firelight.

The splashing blood and the clashing of weapons; the burning boats and collapsing bridges; the cold river and the torches chasing on the shore; the young faces in the darkness, filled with panic, and their incomprehensible roars directed at me; the lead-like bodies submerged in the river, the swollen, pale, and eerie faces of the dead, the rapidly disappearing body heat, and the tight grip on my own mouth and nose, looking at the dense, flickering firelight on the water.

Feeling the cloth still wrapped around my body, it seemed like a gentle arm, binding me with a torn skirt. I suddenly had another hallucination.

"Senior..."

"You're awake..."

Voices rushed into my ears.

"Look, we've escaped..."

"You accomplished the impossible..."

"We will be famous..."

"We will live well and fight for those who are still alive and those who have died..."

"Damn..."

"They're catching up again..."

Then came a sensory upheaval and the cold feeling of the river, along with a tight grip.

"I'm sorry..."

A distant female voice whispered.

"You're such a good person..."

"But it's a pity you were born at the wrong time..."

"Everything that happened after meeting you was clearly a mistake, and I can't let it continue..."

"So..."

"I have to make you disappear forever..."

The intense pain in my head and the sound of silk tearing abruptly stopped in the deep darkness.

I clutched my heart, which was violently trembling, and sat up, a sense of inexplicable sorrow and determination making me completely awake. I slowly retracted my stiff arm, reaching out into the darkness, and wiped away the moisture from the corner of my eye.

Clearly, I had dreamed about the previous owner of this body, who seemed to have been suddenly given a "good person card" and then decisively sent to his death, abandoned in the river to drift away.

The severe pain and shock, combined with the heartbreak of losing all hope, led him to give up his will to live, which allowed me to possess his body and be reborn. Although there were still many things I couldn't remember.

Rest assured, no one can betray me without paying a price, no matter who she is. I silently made this vow to the previous unknown will.

As if it were a form of psychological comfort or release, the last bit of discomfort in my body gradually disappeared as my senses became more acute. Other memories, like a time rewind, slowly surfaced, including the fragments of my life and growth in a tropical homeland.

Various thoughts and memories intertwined in my mind, making me completely sleepless. My heart was still pounding as I slowly got up, walked out of the shelter, and faced the cold night wind, starting to relieve myself.

Amid the snoring, a few dim firelights outlined the contours of the camp.

In the vast darkness, people lay haphazardly on the cold, damp ground, huddled together for warmth.

From my observations during the day, the defenses here were not particularly strict. Even I, a pseudo-military enthusiast who is more into theoretical discussions, could see that the camp was not well set up.

The crooked wooden fence was full of gaps and not very sturdy, with no dedicated watchtowers. There were only two guards at each camp entrance, and they hadn't moved for a long time during the night.

This gave me a chance to escape, didn't it? I looked at the dark sky, feeling that freedom was within reach.

I could escape the battlefield and the troubles, find an opportunity to secretly return to Luoyang, claim my due reward, and then buy a boat to sail south. In this chaotic world, I couldn't play, but I could hide, at least to avoid seeing the mess.

In the other segment of my recovered memory, my homeland was a warm and humid island with dense forests, located near the Annam Protectorate. It had vast fields and many servants, and except for the occasional typhoons, it was a place of spring-like weather and a stable, comfortable life.

As one of many island fiefs, even if there were disputes, the scale of conflict was not large compared to the prolonged wars on the mainland, which often involved tens of thousands of troops.

With these material foundations and my knowledge as a穿越者 (穿越者 means "time traveler" or "穿越者" in this context, but it's better to use "穿越者" to maintain the original flavor), it would be easy to create better living conditions. At least, there were predecessors who had laid the groundwork for me. Whether I chose to be a bored nobleman who bullied men and women, or an experimenter immersed in hobbies, I could live a peaceful life away from the war and the troublesome times, spreading my lineage through a harem to slowly change the world.

I slowly took a step, crouched down, and focused my attention and strength on my toes, stepping over the snoring or murmuring bodies.

But I wasn't an expert in stealth, and I encountered or knocked off some strange things during this time. Fortunately, the snoring provided some cover. The firelight at the camp entrance showed no change or movement.

Suddenly, I paused, remembering that I had forgotten something. I needed some essentials, like a durable bag, rations, a walking stick, and a folding knife. After a brief internal struggle, I decided to go back.

Some faint sounds made me stop again, and I crouched lower. Was I the only one who couldn't sleep?

Holding my breath, I searched for the source of the sound. Suddenly, I saw a large shadow moving at the edge of the firelight. I rubbed my eyes; it wasn't an illusion caused by the flickering firelight. There were indeed several human figures moving, crouched and carefully crawling over the sleeping bodies.

I realized that their direction was clear; their target was the shed where the horse feed and where I slept. I stopped again, hiding behind a large water jar, and continued to observe.

As I approached, I could see that they were holding thick wooden sticks or stones, clearly from the newly recruited vagrants. The leader held a short knife, gently lifting the curtain and then rushing in, stabbing and beating fiercely, muttering something indistinct.

I broke out in a cold sweat, realizing that these were the town thugs who had relentlessly pursued me here, trying to take my life.

After several thoughts, I felt that their movements had stopped, and they had clearly realized something was wrong. I finally made up my mind, stood up, and shouted at the top of my lungs.

"Someone is trying to escape!"

Unfortunately, the response was only the empty echo and a few curses, and some people emerged, looking around in panic, their eyes filled with a desire to tear and devour.

I steeled myself and shouted again.

"Thieves are attacking the camp!"

This time, it was like a ripple breaking, and the tents in the center of the camp began to stir, with various curses and confused shouts.

The attackers finally noticed the direction of the sound, but they seemed to have some degree of night blindness. Even from a distance of several steps, they couldn't find me, and finally, they ran out in frustration.

I felt relieved, wondering if I should thank their night blindness. I shouted again.

"There's an assassin!"

"The camp is on fire!"

This time, the effect was excellent. The tents in the center of the camp suddenly burst open, and many people ran out, half-naked and disoriented, holding weapons and looking around in confusion, shouting.

"Where are the thieves?"

"Who is shouting?"

Finally, someone saw the figures trampling and kicking their way over the sleeping bodies, causing a chorus of screams, and the target became clear.

"Even the teacher couldn't sleep tonight."

The old soldier slowly walked out of the darkness, fully equipped, and stood beside me.

Seeing the water stains on my pants, he smiled meaningfully and slowly turned away, making me breathe a sigh of relief.

I returned to the ransacked shelter and sat on the torn straw pile. This was a deadly thrill for a modern soul.

I slowly calmed down, listening to the sounds and wind in the night. After about half an hour, when I was about to doze off, the camp gate was suddenly opened, and the snoring people were kicked awake. The gradually lit fires illuminated the pale faces of the drowsy crowd, casting a bloody hue on their bewildered expressions. From outside the gate, some badly injured people were dragged in, tied to horses, and stumbled in.

"Hang them up."

"Let everyone see clearly."

"This is the fate of those who try to escape."

As the leader issued orders filled with anger, the failed escapees were stripped of their lower garments and beaten with iron-tipped sticks by the leader's subordinates.

"Thud. Thud."

The wooden poles quickly became bloodstained, and the cries for mercy gradually faded. Looking at the punished leaders, my heart was not as calm as my expression. These were clearly the people who had chased me earlier. How had they been recruited?

Seeing their miserable state, I felt a chill, my back drenched in cold sweat, and a mix of sorrow and joy.

I was sad to see their fate, realizing that my escape plan would be fraught with difficulties. But I was also relieved that these people, who had mixed into the army and failed in their escape attempt, had been punished, removing a potential threat.

Was this luck or misfortune? I stayed awake,纠结 (纠结 means "tangled" or "conflicted" in this context, but it's better to use "conflicted" to maintain the original flavor) until dawn.