Ch 24: The Cannon Fodder Won’t Play Along Anymore [QT]

“Xiaobao, why aren’t you eating? No appetite?”

Mu Xing looked up and saw everyone watching him with concern.

He shook his head, pushed away those inexplicable thoughts, and smiled. “No, it smells great.”

Then he said seriously, “Next time, Mother, don’t make something just for me. Xiaobao will eat with you all.”

Zhang-shi, seeing her youngest son was fine, relaxed. She didn’t take his words seriously, and instead spoke in the coaxing tone used for children: “Xiaobao is still young. Children have to eat better so they can grow up quickly. When you’re grown, there won’t be any rabbit legs for you.”

Liar. Sister Jiajia didn’t have any when she was little either, Mu Xing thought to himself.

Then, as soon as the thought formed, he realized his thinking had just been exactly like that of a three-year-old.

Startled, he gave a small shiver, then shook his little head to throw away all those strange ideas.

Don’t overthink it. Since I’m Mu Xiaobao now, I’ll just be Mu Xiaobao.

If the whole family wants to give me special treatment, then I’ll just find a way to make life better for everyone, so we can all eat delicious food.

Outside, the big yellow dog suddenly started barking. Right after came the sound of footsteps and a familiar voice.

“Mother, Xinglan, I’m back.”

Zhang-shi had just stood up when two people came in from outside—it was Mu Dazhu and the eldest son, Mu Jiawang.

“Look what I brought you.” Mu Dazhu carefully pulled an oiled paper package from his chest, opened it, and set it on the table.

Mu Jiafeng craned his neck to see, then shouted, “It’s braised pork!”

“That’s right—braised pork. I kept it in my coat, so it’s still warm. Come eat! Hm? What’s that smell? So fragrant.” Only then did Mu Dazhu notice the aroma filling the room.

“It’s the rabbit Xiaobao caught!” Mu Jiajia announced first.

Mu Xing: “…”

That made his face flush. He explained, “It was a rabbit that killed itself.”

But Mu Dazhu acted as though he hadn’t heard, loudly praising, “Wow, Xiaobao is amazing—so young and already catching rabbits.”

Mu Xing: “…”

I think, with the way you’re raising me, if I weren’t a reincarnated soul, I’d probably end up spoiled into a little tyrant.

That night, Zhang-shi washed his hands and face, then laid him in bed with a small quilt over his belly.

The Mu family had three rooms—Mu Dazhu and his wife in one, Mu Jiajia with Madam Mu in another, and the three brothers in the last.

Before, Mu Xing had always slept with his parents, but once he turned three, he had firmly insisted on sleeping with his brothers—even going so far as to act cute and claim he was already a grown man.

Zhang-shi had been both worried and amused, secretly checking on him several times in the night before finally agreeing.

In ancient times, there was little to do at night, and oil lamps had to be saved, so people generally went to bed as soon as it got dark.

Mu Xing lay on his bed, wide-eyed, thinking.

For the first three years, he had been too young and often ill. The family had watched him like a precious jewel, and he’d barely stepped out of the house.

But since turning three, he could feel his body was much better.

The heavy weakness had eased greatly, and the heightened senses he’d had in his past life after returning to Xiaoxi Village were slowly coming back.

At the moment, he could even hear from the next room—Mu Jiajia complaining she was hot, Madam Mu fanning her while coaxing her to sleep.

Listening for a while, drowsiness washed over him.

Half-asleep, he thought: Now that I’m much better, tomorrow I can go with Mother into the mountains to see if there’s anything good. I heard that a few years ago, someone in the village dug up an old ginseng root there and sold it for enough to buy a house in town.

*

The next day, Zhang-shi woke him, and he rubbed his eyes while dressing himself, then was handed a warm cloth.

In this weather, everyone else in the family used cold water from the vat to splash their faces. Only Mu Xing had Zhang-shi boil a bit of hot water while making breakfast, so he could wash up with it.

After washing, it was almost time to eat.

As usual, he had a bowl of easy-to-digest white porridge, while everyone else had filling cornbread, with Zhang-shi’s homemade pickles as the side dish.

Mu Xing listened as Mu Dazhu and Zhang-shi talked about the fields—poor harvests, high taxes, and how hard life was for the farmers.

After drinking half his porridge, he asked, “Are Father and Mother going into the mountains today?”

Mu Dazhu said, “Yes.”

Usually, Zhang-shi would search the outer mountain slopes for wild vegetables and fruits, gather firewood, and cut some grass to feed their most valuable hens.

Mu Dazhu and the other strong men in the village would go deep into the mountains to try their luck at hunting something good to sell for extra income.

Mu Jiawang would sometimes go out with Zhang-shi as well, to help a little.

Mu Xing said, “I want to go with Mother too.”

He knew well that where Mu Dazhu went was too dangerous for him, but the places Zhang-shi visited were safe enough.

As expected, Zhang-shi refused right away. “Xiaobao’s still too little. Wait until you’re older to go with Mother.”

Mu Xing knew the usual approach wouldn’t work.

He silently berated himself, cast aside any sense of shame, then lifted his head. His big eyes glistened as he looked pitiful: “But Third Brother said that when he was my age, he was already running all over the mountains with no clothes on.”

Mu Jiafeng: “???”

He looked at his little brother in confusion, trying to remember—Did I ever say something like that?

Before he could figure it out, his mother’s sharp gaze swept over, sending a chill down his back.

I’m done for!

Zhang-shi shot this mischievous monkey a fierce glare. But when she turned to Mu Xing, her tone softened greatly. “Xiaobao mustn’t copy your third brother—he’s been asking for a beating since he was little.”

Mu Jiafeng: “…”

Mu Xing didn’t speak, just looked up at Zhang-shi with big, hopeful eyes.

Faced with such an obedient child staring at you with such longing—who could resist?

Certainly not Zhang-shi.

Thinking the mountains would be cooler than home, she gave in. “Alright, after breakfast you can come with Mother. But let’s agree—no running off. If you get tired or feel unwell, you must tell me, no forcing yourself.”

Mu Xing nodded quickly.

He finished his porridge in no time, even conscientiously placing the bowl on the stove. Madam Mu, seeing this eager little look, felt both joy and a pang of sadness: joy because Mu Xing’s impatient cuteness was irresistible, and sadness because the reason he was so eager was that, due to his health, he’d hardly ever stepped outside the house.

Mu Xing followed Zhang-shi and his three older siblings into the mountains.

At first, he’d only come along hoping he might find something valuable—much like how modern people buy lottery tickets always imagining they’ll win.

That hopeful mindset was there, but he hadn’t truly expected much.

Yet now, looking at the bright red flower before him, he fell silent.

In his past life, living alone, he’d raised many flowers and plants, and knew quite a bit about them.

This… this was a ginseng flower, wasn’t it?

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