Author Archives: Thandar

After breakfast, Jiang Ji disinfected Jiang Yan’s wounds.

Jiang Yan watched as Jiang Ji first carried in a small table, then lugged over a large box—metal-like but smoother than iron. From it, he took out several unfamiliar objects.

“What are those?” Jiang Yan asked.

“Oh, medicine, bandages, that kind of thing. All for treating wounds. The doctor left them,” Jiang Ji said casually. Anyway, the man had lost his memory—he wouldn’t know the difference.

Jiang Yan studied the items for a while. Jiang Ji pressed on a small bottle, and a clear white liquid came out. He rubbed it between his hands.

“I’ve never seen things like these before.”

Jiang Ji glanced at him and replied matter-of-factly, “Well, you’ve lost your memory. Of course you haven’t.”

Jiang Yan: …

He went quiet, watching as Jiang Ji put on a pair of unusual gloves, rubbed his hands again, and began unwrapping the bandages.

When the wound was revealed, Jiang Yan finally realized that Jiang Ji hadn’t exaggerated—the injury on his abdomen was truly serious.

It was long, at least four or five inches, and had been sewn shut with thread. The stitches looked like a centipede crawling across his skin—harsh and shocking.

He stared at the stitching in disbelief. Could wounds really be sewn together like fabric?

The doctor had told Jiang Ji to monitor for any oozing. Jiang Ji leaned closer to check; there was no blood, only a bit of clear fluid. He wasn’t sure if that was normal or not.

He peeked at the live chat—some viewers said it was normal—so he disinfected the wound twice with iodine, applied ointment, and rebandaged it carefully with fresh gauze.

Jiang Yan had several other wounds, and Jiang Ji tended to each one in turn—cleaning, disinfecting, medicating, and rewrapping them.

“Alright, looks good. You’re healing. Try not to move too much,” Jiang Ji said, pulling off his gloves.

He called Jiang Bei to bring a bowl of warm water, then sorted out the medicines into a small box and handed them to Jiang Yan.

“Here, take your medicine. Just swallow them—don’t chew.”

Jiang Yan looked at the pills for a long time before pouring them all into his mouth and swallowing them with water.

Jiang Ji packed the medical box and set it on a stool in the corner.

“Okay, I’m heading to town for a bit. If you need water or, uh, the chamber pot, call Jiang Nan or Jiang Bei. They’ll be home with my mother. I’ll be back before noon.”

“Alright.” After Jiang Ji left, Jiang Yan’s eyes lingered on the medical box for a long while.

Jiang Ji, meanwhile, finished giving instructions to Zhao Ru and the others before setting out.

He planned to exchange the banknotes for silver first. Once he returned near the village, he’d “manifest” the beds from the system and haul them home.

As he walked, he chatted with his livestream audience.

These past few days, everyone’s attention had been focused on the wounded man. The viewers had followed anxiously, worrying whether Jiang Yan would survive.

Yesterday, with the online doctor’s step-by-step guidance, Jiang Ji and Zhao Ru had successfully treated the wounds, and now that Jiang Yan was awake this morning, everyone finally relaxed.

The whole event had sent Jiang Ji’s viewership skyrocketing—his follower count had passed five or six hundred thousand.

He checked—yesterday’s stream replay had already surpassed a million views.

Unfortunately, replay views didn’t count toward his live stats; only live viewers did.

“Hey, old irons, did someone recommend me somewhere? There’s a lot of people online this morning.”

Even at this early hour, nearly a hundred thousand people were watching.

【Bro, you’ve gone viral】

“What do you mean?”

【A big account on Weibo clipped one of your streams and reposted it. He’s got tons of followers, and your content’s so hardcore—it blew up.】

【You were even trending last night, though a bit lower on the list.】

“Oh, so you guys have Weibo too? I was wondering why the numbers jumped so much this morning. Turns out that’s why. Tell that big account I’m grateful, yeah?”

【He’s probably still asleep. He’s a night owl—usually posts videos in the middle of the night.】

Just then, a cascade of flying instant noodle effects drifted across the screen, fluttering down like little wings.

【That’s him—the one sending noodles! That’s the big account from yesterday.】

Jiang Ji saw the username “Iron Mouth Sees the World” and said, “Thanks for the noodles, Iron Mouth Sees the World! You’re awesome! I heard you helped promote me yesterday—really appreciate it!”

He clasped his hands in a polite salute. “Last time I passed through town, I didn’t get to show you guys around. Since I’m heading there today anyway, I’ll take you on a little tour.”

【Been waiting for that!】

Jiang Ji’s home was on the western edge of town. As he entered through the west gate, he narrated to his audience.

“This town is the biggest in the county. The county yamen is located here… Want to see it? Sure, we’ll swing by later.”

It was only his second visit—his first had been rushed. Even though he had the original host’s memories, nothing beat seeing it with his own eyes.

“Most of the people entering from the west are farmers. The grain market, vegetable stalls, and livestock trading area are all over here. When we sell vegetables, this is usually where we come.”

Jiang Ji led the livestream audience through the market. The place bustled with activity—vegetable stalls, poultry and fish stands, grain shops, wine vendors—all filled with noise and shouting.

Leaving the market, he turned two corners and arrived at North Street.

“There’s a river up north,” he explained to his viewers. “The dock’s over that way. The prefectural city to the east is very prosperous, so a lot of merchants transport goods from there to the northern regions. That’s why most of the big shops are on North and East Street.”

He walked from North Street to East Street, both sides lined with teahouses, cloth shops, jewelry stores, and restaurants. Many people were strolling about—it was lively and crowded.

Every now and then, Jiang Ji stepped into a shop to look around, checking out the styles of goods and learning local prices.

【So this really is ancient times—look at that fabric, it’s all rough weave and simple patterns】
【Those accessories look so old-fashioned—mostly gold, silver, and bronze, even some made of wood】
【Why do the gold pieces look so dull?】
【That’s because ancient refining techniques weren’t advanced. The purity was lower, so the color wasn’t as bright.】

After browsing for a while, Jiang Ji brought the audience to the county yamen.

The tall gate bore the sign “Changping County Office.” Beside it stood a large drum and two stone lions. Two constables guarded the entrance.

“Can only look from outside,” Jiang Ji said.

【So simple-looking!】
【I wish we could go in.】
【So this is what it looked like…】

After touring the yamen, Jiang Ji found a money exchange shop and traded the banknotes for silver and copper coins.

“Alright, everyone, time’s up. I’ve got to head home. We’ll come sightseeing again next time.”

On his way back, he spotted a candied haw vendor. He bought six skewers—one for each family member—but after walking a few steps, he turned back and bought over a dozen more.

When he reached the path leading toward his village, Jiang Ji slipped into a small side road. Once he was sure no one was around, he quickly redeemed a handcart, a sack of rice, a bundle of rope, and two cotton quilts from the system.

He originally planned to bring just one bed back first and the second one later in the afternoon.

But he’d overlooked one crucial problem: the solid wood bed was extremely heavy. There was no way he could lift it onto the cart alone.

Jiang Ji stood there dumbfounded. “…Well, that’s a problem.”

【Hahahahaha I can’t—】
【Streamer, what are you doing—】
【Pfft hahaha】

“Quit laughing and help me think of something!” Jiang Ji said, flustered.

【There’s a way, actually】

“Come on, bro, tell me!”

【Take it apart and reassemble it later】

Jiang Ji groaned. “Big brother, you think I know how to assemble furniture?”

【Hahahahahaha】

【Then wait for someone to pass by and ask them to help you lift it】

Left with no choice, Jiang Ji tried to move it bit by bit while keeping an eye out for passersby.

After a long while, an elderly man came down the road carrying baskets on a shoulder pole.

“Uncle, could you lend me a hand?” Jiang Ji called out.

The old man spotted the bed and asked, puzzled, “Hey, how’d this happen? Did it fall off?”

Playing along, Jiang Ji replied, “Yeah, the rope wasn’t tied tight enough, and it slipped off. It’s too heavy for me to lift alone.”

“Alright, I’ll help you.”

The old man was kind-hearted. Together, they hoisted the bed onto the cart, then helped load the rice and quilts, tying everything securely.

“Thank you so much, Uncle—you’re really kind.” Jiang Ji pulled two candied haws from his paper bag. “Here, take these home for the kids.”

“Oh, no need, no need. It was nothing,” the old man said, waving it off.

“Please, Uncle, take them. I insist.” Jiang Ji pushed the treats into his hands.

“Well then, thank you,” the man said at last, accepting them.

“No, I should be the one thanking you.”

After saying goodbye, Jiang Ji pushed the cart home.

At the entrance to the village, a few villagers spotted him.

“Hey, Jiang Ji, went to buy a bed?” an auntie asked.

“Yeah, Auntie.”

“Nice one! How much did it cost?”

Having just checked prices earlier that morning, Jiang Ji answered smoothly, “Seven hundred wen a bed.”

Another aunt added, “That’s fine craftsmanship! Why didn’t you have the shop deliver it? Must’ve been hard dragging it back yourself.”

“They charge an extra twenty wen for delivery,” Jiang Ji said. “Figured I’d just haul it myself.”

“Those merchants are so greedy. There’s a carpenter in Wangjia Village about ten li from here—he makes solid beds for only six hundred wen, and he delivers for free. My family’s bed’s from him, good quality too. Next time, go there—you’ll save a lot.”

“Really? Only six hundred? Then I’ll go to him next time,” Jiang Ji replied with a grin.

As he walked farther away, he could still hear the two aunties chatting behind him.

“Since when can Jiang Ji’s family afford a bed? Look at his cart—there’s new quilts and what looks like a sack of rice too.”

“Didn’t he save someone from the woods the other day? I heard that man woke up this morning. When Jiang Ji’s mother was washing clothes yesterday, I saw the man’s garments—all covered in blood, but do you know what kind of fabric it was? Silk! Definitely a rich family’s young master. The bed money’s probably a reward.”

“Really? Then Jiang Ji’s family sure rescued the right person—found themselves a benefactor!”

“Exactly…”

Jiang Ji smirked. Please, he’s the one who found his benefactor—me.

Back home, the family was overjoyed as they unloaded the bed and carried it into the house.

Zhao Ru and the others had already cleared away Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei’s makeshift bedding, so the new bed went right there.

Jiang Xia wiped the frame clean with a cloth while Zhao Ru spread straw for padding, then layered the mattress, sheets, and new quilts neatly.

Jiang Ji helped Jiang Yan sit up. “Come on, Jiang Yan—let’s get you onto the new bed.”

Jiang Yan had been watching the family bustle about and hadn’t expected them to let him use it first.

“I’m fine here. Let Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei sleep on it,” he said quietly.

“It’s alright,” Jiang Ji replied with a grin. “You’ve paid plenty. I’ll get another bed this afternoon—everyone will have one.”

Hearing that, Jiang Yan said no more and, with Jiang Ji’s help, moved onto the bed.

“Brother! I saw candied haws in the cart! Are they for us?”

Jiang Nan came running in, clutching a skewer of candied haws, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

“Yeah, one for each of you.”

Jiang Bei also came in, holding a skewer. “But there are still more in there.”

“Those are for Aunt Xiufang’s family and the doctor’s kids. You two aren’t allowed to take extra.”

“Oh~”

Outside, Jiang Ji found Zhao Ru and pulled her into her room. He handed her the silver he’d exchanged and quietly discussed a few matters.

Not long after, Jiang Ji redeemed several portions of pork and eggs, packed them into a basket along with the candied haws, and went around the village.

He visited the doctor’s house to repay the medical fees, then stopped by the village head’s home and the families who had helped testify at the county yamen. To each household, he gifted two jin of pork, ten eggs, and a few skewers of candied haws as thanks.

Zhao Ru, meanwhile, carried three jin of pork, two jin of peanuts, a basket of eggs, and four skewers of candied haws to Aunt Xiufang’s home.

“Xiufang.”

Xiufang was at the stove, tending the fire and cooking. Seeing Zhao Ru, she stood up. “Oh, Xiaoru, what brings you here? Aren’t you in the middle of cooking dinner?”

“Xia’s cooking. Ji came back, so I came to return your money.” Zhao Ru set the items on the table and pulled out one tael of silver. “It’s the silver I borrowed from you before. It’s been a long time—I’m sorry it took so long to pay you back.”

“Oh come on, what are you talking about? We’re like family, don’t say things like that.” Their homes were close, and Xiufang knew some of what Zhao Ru’s family had been through, so she didn’t stand on ceremony. She took the silver but frowned at the pile of goods. “Why did you bring all this? Take it back, quick.”

“Ji bought it especially. All these years, we’ve relied on your help—without you, our family…” Zhao Ru’s voice trembled, and tears welled up in her eyes. The years of hardship pressed down on her heart, and she couldn’t hold it in anymore.

“Don’t be so polite with me.” Xiufang took her hand and patted it. “It’s all in the past. Don’t think too much.”

Zhao Ru quickly wiped her tears and smiled. “Alright. I’ll head back then—still have to make lunch.”

“Okay.”

Watching Zhao Ru leave, Xiufang sighed softly.

“What are you sighing for?” Tu Gen came in from outside and spotted the pork and eggs on the table. “Where’d all this come from?”

Xiufang repeated the story.

Tu Gen grunted. “That young man Jiang Ji saved—they say he’s some rich family’s young master?”

“Seems like it. Otherwise, how could they afford all this? They even repaid the money we lent them.”

Tu Gen eyed his wife. “Then why’re you sighing? Feeling sour seeing someone else get rich?”

“What nonsense are you talking about?” Xiufang glared at him. “Now hurry and stoke the fire. We’ve got meat—want some or not?”

“Want!” Tu Gen said at once.

🌾🌾🌾🌾🌾

“Wait a moment,” Jiang Ji said.

He slipped on his shoes and went out to ask Zhao Ru for the man’s jade pendant and banknotes.

When Zhao Ru heard that the injured man had woken up, she was delighted and handed him the items.

Back in the room, Jiang Ji crouched beside the bed and said, “These were on you—a jade pendant and four banknotes. Other than these and your clothes, there was nothing else. My mother washed your clothes. Here, take them.”

The man accepted them without glancing at the notes, his eyes fixed on the jade pendant.

“Look familiar? Do you remember anything?” Jiang Ji asked.

The man shook his head.

“You’ll remember eventually,” Jiang Ji said encouragingly, then continued, “Brother, here’s the situation. The day before yesterday, you had a high fever and were unconscious. I called the village doctor for you, but my family is poor, so we haven’t paid the consultation and medicine fees yet. The doctor used up his entire stock of wound powder to stop the bleeding from your chest wound—it’s expensive stuff. Altogether, we owe him five taels and two qian of silver.”

To justify the future use of modern medicine, he went on, “But your wounds didn’t improve, and you were still unconscious. Yesterday, I went into town to find another doctor—it cost another five taels to save your life. That fee also hasn’t been paid yet.”

Hearing that, the man handed over all the banknotes.

Jiang Ji hesitated, then took only the fifty-tael note. “This one will do—see? Fifty taels. Don’t worry, I’ll bring the rest back to you later.”

The man’s voice was weak from exhaustion. “Keep it. I’ll still have to trouble you and your family while I recover.”

Jiang Ji could guess what he was thinking—probably embarrassed to owe too much. Besides, the medicine wasn’t cheap, and there was food and care to account for too. Five taels barely covered it.

“Alright then. It’s not like I saved you for your money, but since paying makes you feel better staying here, I’ll accept it as a care fee,” Jiang Ji said.

The man nodded. “Alright. Thank you.”

Jiang Ji tucked the fifty-tael note into his clothes. “Rest well. Don’t move around. Your wounds are long—if they tear open, it’ll be trouble. After breakfast, I’ll come clean and dress them again.”

Jiang Bei, listening from the side, stared wide-eyed.

When had his big brother become such a smooth talker? He’d just pocketed fifty taels without blinking!

Jiang Nan woke up too. Hearing that the man was conscious, he hurried to get dressed and, along with Jiang Bei, stood a few steps away, curiously peering at the stranger.

Jiang Ji noticed them and jerked his chin. “Jiang Nan, Jiang Bei—since you’re up, go wash up.”

“Oh.” Jiang Nan responded but didn’t move. Instead, he took a few steps closer, crouched by the bed, and asked, “Uncle, my name’s Jiang Nan. What’s yours?”

Jiang Ji’s eyes widened. “What uncle? Call him brother.”

The man wasn’t much older than Jiang Ji, and that “uncle” made him sound a generation older for no reason.

“Oh—brother,” Jiang Nan corrected obediently.

Jiang Bei tugged at Jiang Nan’s sleeve and whispered, “He doesn’t know his name. Big Brother said he lost his memory.”

“Huh?” Jiang Nan blinked in pity. “You can’t remember who you are?”

The man nodded. “That’s right.”

“Don’t ask too much,” Jiang Ji said, patting their heads. “Go wash your faces.”

“Okay.” This time, they obeyed and went out.

Jiang Ji was about to follow when he saw the man trying to get up. He quickly stepped over. “Didn’t I tell you not to move?”

For the first time since waking, the man’s composed, handsome face showed a hint of embarrassment. “I… need to relieve myself.”

Jiang Ji paused, blinking. “Oh, right—you’ve been unconscious all this time. Haven’t gone once, huh? Number one or number two?”

“What?” The man looked confused.

Jiang Ji smacked his forehead—right, they probably didn’t use that phrasing here. “I mean, bowel movement or urination?”

The man’s fair, well-defined face flushed slightly. “…Urination.”

“Got it. Wait here.” Jiang Ji got up and pointed at him. “Don’t move. Lie back down. The doctor said you should stay in bed for at least three days.”

A moment later, he brought back a chamber pot and handed it over. “Need my help?”

The man shook his head. “No, thank you. Could you… step out for a bit?”

Realizing he was embarrassed, Jiang Ji chuckled and said, “Alright. Just don’t get up—your abdominal wound is the worst one. There’s also a deep sword wound in your left chest that only just stopped bleeding.”

“Understood.”

“Call me when you’re done.” Jiang Ji went out and, considerately, closed the door behind him.

After a while, a low voice came from inside. “Brother Jiang Ji, you can come in now.”

Jiang Ji pushed the door open. The chamber pot sat by the bed; when he lifted it, it was surprisingly heavy.

“Just call me Jiang Ji,” he said. “I’ll bring you some water to wash up in a bit.” He cracked open the window for ventilation. “Cover yourself with the quilt. I’ll leave the door open for now.”

“Alright. Thank you.”

“No need to be so polite.” Jiang Ji carried the chamber pot out.

It was the first time he’d ever emptied one for someone else. In the past, he would’ve found it disgusting, but after just a few days in this world, he realized his tolerance and limits were dropping lower and lower.

Truly, people only learn endurance when circumstances force them to.

He emptied and rinsed the pot, then went to wash his own hands and face.

Zhao Ru pulled him aside and whispered, “Jiang Bei said that man’s lost his memory?”

“Yeah.”

“Poor thing,” she sighed softly, then asked, “And you took quite a bit of his silver?”

“I took fifty taels. After paying the doctor’s fees, there’s forty-four taels and eight qian left. He said I should keep it,” Jiang Ji replied.

“And you just accepted it like that?” Zhao Ru looked uneasy—she had never in her life held that much money. “You could’ve just taken five or ten taels. That’s too much—it doesn’t feel right.”

“Don’t worry, Mother,” Jiang Ji reassured her. “He’ll need proper food and nutrition while recovering, and we’ll be taking care of him anyway. Besides, if I don’t accept it, he might feel awkward staying here.”

Zhao Ru was still hesitant, but after thinking it over, what her son said made sense. She let it go.

At this time, simple toothbrushes and tooth powder already existed, though crude. Jiang Ji exchanged for one to try it out—it was rough, but far better than chewing willow twigs.

He decided to get one for everyone in the family, plus a new cloth towel for the injured man to wash up with.

And most importantly—proper toilet paper!

He placed the items neatly on the small table. Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei stared curiously.

They had seen toothbrushes at their playmates’ homes before, but not toilet paper. Even the wealthiest families in the village didn’t use it.

“Big brother, what’s this?” Jiang Nan asked, picking up a sheet of yellowish paper. “Are you going to the schoolhouse? But Dazhu’s writing paper doesn’t look like this.”

“This is toilet paper,” Jiang Ji explained. “You use it to wipe after doing your business.”

“Huh?” Jiang Nan was shocked. “You use such nice paper for that?”

“Yeah. From now on, use this—no more bamboo chips or grass. It’s not clean, and it’s bad for you. Got it?”

Jiang Nan turned to his mother, who looked just as bewildered. “This… this nice paper is really for the outhouse?” she asked, incredulous.

“Yes.”

“But isn’t that wasteful?” Zhao Ru said, pained at the thought.

Jiang Ji had expected that reaction. He used his trump card. “The immortal said it himself—it’s for hygiene. You’ll get sick less often this way.”

The moment they heard it was the immortal’s instruction, everyone fell silent.

If the immortal said so, they had to listen. What if he took back Jiang Ji’s treasure otherwise?

Jiang Ji went on, “Also, the immortal said that from now on, we must boil water before drinking it. No more drinking it raw—it’s dirty and makes people sick.”

In winter, Zhao Ru always boiled water, but in summer, they usually drank it straight from the jar.

He’d been too busy streaming and worrying about the patient to bring this up earlier. Now that the man was awake, he finally had time to take care of household matters.

Jiang Ji exchanged for a large clay pot. “The immortal said water should be boiled and then kept simmering a bit longer before drinking. From now on, pour boiled water in here. Whenever anyone’s thirsty, drink from this pot.”

Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei nodded blankly. “Oh…”

Then Jiang Ji turned to Zhao Ru. “Mother, boil a few eggs this morning—to build strength.”

“Alright.” With things looking better now, Zhao Ru also wanted the children to eat well and grow tall. “Xiao Ji, ask that young man if there’s anything he can’t eat. When you go to town, pick up some vegetables.”

“Okay.”

Jiang Ji said nothing more. He carried a basin of warm water to the man’s room, along with a new toothbrush and towel.

“These are all new. Don’t worry,” he said.

“Thank you.”

Jiang Ji helped him sit up; moving inevitably tugged at the wounds, but the man didn’t so much as flinch.

He really could endure pain—Jiang Ji couldn’t help but admire him a little.

The man was still wearing Jiang Ji’s inner clothes. The weather was cold, and his own clothes had been torn and bloodstained; Zhao Ru had washed them all.

Since Jiang Ji didn’t have spare winter clothing, he used his system points to get the man a full set, including a thick cotton-padded coat.

Placing the rest neatly by the bed, Jiang Ji handed him the coat. “Here, put this on—you’ll catch cold otherwise.”

“Thanks.” The man slipped it on, rolled up his sleeves, and began washing up.

Watching how naturally he used the toothbrush and tooth powder, Jiang Ji recalled the jade pendant, the banknotes, and the fine fabric of his clothing. His mother had said it was excellent quality. Jiang Ji guessed this man was probably the young master of some wealthy family who had fallen into trouble.

“Oh right,” he said. “My mother asked me to check if there’s anything you can’t eat, or anything you dislike. She’s planning to cook something nice.”

The man rinsed his mouth and wiped it with the towel. “I don’t know.”

“Oh, right—you don’t remember,” Jiang Ji said thoughtfully. “Well, you’ll need light food while you recover. If you come across anything you like or dislike, just tell me, alright?”

“Alright.”

“Then sit tight—you’ll be having breakfast soon.”

“Okay.”

Breakfast was boiled eggs and porridge. Zhao Ru had added a bit of shredded meat and radish with a pinch of salt—it was far better than the wild-greens porridge they were used to.

Although Jiang Ji had said they’d have eggs regularly from now on, Zhao Ru still rationed carefully: one egg per person, with two for the injured man.

Jiang Ji brought the porridge and eggs into the room, set them on a small stool, and said, “Here you go—breakfast’s ready.”

“Alright.”

The man took the bowl of porridge and began to eat. His movements were quick but not crude—his table manners were refined and deliberate.

Watching him, Jiang Ji thought for a moment and said, “Since you don’t remember your name, it’s hard to call you something. Why don’t you pick a new one for now? What would you like to be called?”

The man swallowed his mouthful of porridge and paused in thought. Nothing came to mind, so he shook his head.

“Then how about I give you one?” Jiang Ji suggested. “Just a temporary name—once you remember who you are, you can use your real one again.”

“Then I’ll trouble you,” the man replied.

Jiang Ji studied his handsome face for a bit, then smiled. “My name’s Jiang Ji—it means quiet and still. So you should be Jiang Yan, Yan as in blazing heat. Perfect balance.”

The man looked at him and said simply, “Alright.”

“You really agreed?” Jiang Ji blinked, a little surprised. He had only said it half-jokingly.

The man nodded. “Yes. Jiang Yan—it sounds good.”

Jiang Ji blinked again, then the corners of his mouth curved upward. “I think so too.”

🌾🌾🌾🌾🌾

Jiang Ji quickly opened the system and checked. The first batch of daily necessities available in this world could now be exchanged.

He searched for beds.

There were all kinds of styles from the current era—simple wooden ones for 200 points each, and the most expensive, an ornate rosewood carved bed, costing a full 100,000 points.

With every 10,000 total viewers equaling 100 points, and since Jiang Ji had only spent a dozen or so points before, he easily had enough to redeem two beds and new bedding.

He thought about it for a moment but decided not to tell his family yet. He’d wait until after they treated the injured man, then pretend it was a “reward from the immortal.”

Having made up his mind, Jiang Ji said, “Mother, let’s get ready to stitch that man’s wounds.”

“Alright.”

【I can’t believe they actually bought it】
【Well, it is ancient times, and he can make things appear—of course they’d believe him】
【The streamer’s really good at bluffing】
【You’re all immortals now, what’s there to complain about?】
【This fairy approves】
【This immortal lady finds it acceptable】

Jiang Ji and Zhao Ru washed their hands thoroughly with soap pod water, carried in the small dining table, and brought a basin of hot water into the room. Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei stayed outside to stand guard.

Jiang Ji claimed his medical supplies from the system. A large medical kit instantly appeared on the table—inside were various medicines, ointments, povidone-iodine, cotton swabs, alcohol-free sanitizer, tweezers, scalpels, suturing needles, and surgical thread—everything they would need.

Zhao Ru stared at the unfamiliar tools, full of wonder. These must all be things from the immortal’s realm.

The doctor on the stream explained the wound treatment steps, and Jiang Ji repeated them to Zhao Ru.

“Doctor, do I need to use anesthesia?” he asked. So many wounds—stitching would surely hurt.

【He’s unconscious. Don’t use it; it could cause complications if you don’t handle it properly.】

“Oh, alright.” Jiang Ji turned to Zhao Ru. “Mother, follow my lead.”

“Okay.”

After understanding the steps, Jiang Ji used the sanitizer to scrub his hands and put on the medical gloves, with Zhao Ru copying him.

Following the doctor’s instructions, Jiang Ji first measured the man’s temperature—39.8°C. Then he began cleaning the wounds, debriding, disinfecting—he did all this while Zhao Ru assisted beside him.

Jiang Ji had never done anything like this before. When removing necrotic tissue, he had to cut away the infected flesh with a scalpel. His hand trembled with nerves, and he accidentally sliced a bit too much.

Jiang Ji: …

【It’s fine—you’re doing really well.】

The doctor encouraged him, and after a while, Jiang Ji calmed down and grew more confident. He managed to clean out all the festering wounds successfully.

“Mother, you do the stitching. I don’t know how to sew. If you stitch up the wounds, they’ll heal faster.”

“Me?” Zhao Ru’s hands trembled slightly.

Jiang Ji encouraged her. “Don’t be afraid, Mother. You can do it.”

“…Alright.” Zhao Ru took a deep breath and picked up the suturing needle and thread.

As Jiang Ji relayed the doctor’s step-by-step instructions, Zhao Ru—unaccustomed to using the forceps—simply gripped the needle herself and began stitching by hand.

She was skilled at sewing, but the curved suturing needle was different from what she was used to. At first, her movements were clumsy, but soon she grew more practiced—the stitches came out clean and even.

Suturing, disinfecting, applying ointment, bandaging—by the time mother and son finished treating all of the man’s wounds, more than an hour had passed, and the sky was already darkening.

Jiang Ji gave the man a tetanus shot and fed him some medicine before they were finally done.

After cleaning up, both of them let out a long sigh of relief.

“Will he live now?” Zhao Ru asked.

“At least he’s better than before,” Jiang Ji said uncertainly. “If he doesn’t get better after this, then there’s really nothing more we can do.”

Because of all the washing, the straw mattress and sheets were damp. Jiang Ji and Zhao Ru replaced them with fresh straw and clean bedding. They also set up the borrowed doorboard beside the bed as a makeshift cot for Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei.

A little while later, Jiang Ji pulled Zhao Ru aside and whispered, “Mother, the immortal just rewarded us for helping save that man—he sent us two beds and quilts. We’ve got beds now.”

Zhao Ru’s eyes widened with excitement. “Beds and quilts?” Of course—it was just like an immortal to know exactly what they needed most.

“Mm.” Jiang Ji nodded, then added after thinking, “But tonight, let Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei sleep on the doorboard. I’ll go out tomorrow, bring the beds and quilts back with the cart, and get another sack of rice and some vegetables too. If anyone asks, just say the man we rescued woke up and gave us silver to buy them.”

Zhao Ru immediately understood. Their family was poor—they couldn’t possibly afford two new beds. If anyone saw, it would raise suspicion. The matter of the immortal’s treasure had to stay secret, so there had to be a believable explanation.

“I understand,” she said quickly. “I won’t tell the boys either.”

“Good.” Seeing how quickly Zhao Ru caught on, Jiang Ji was pleased.

“Oh, right,” Zhao Ru remembered. “When I washed his clothes this morning, I found four banknotes in his sleeve pocket. I kept them safe for now—I’ll show you.”

She went to the room and brought them out. Zhao Ru couldn’t read, so she didn’t know their value.

Jiang Ji looked them over—one was for 1,000 taels, two were for 100, and one for 50.

“When he wakes up, we’ll give them back to him,” Jiang Ji said. “We still owe the doctor from yesterday anyway, so he should know.” He didn’t mention how much they were worth and handed the notes back. “You keep them for now, Mother.”

“Alright.”

With the rice supply now secure, Zhao Ru finally felt willing to cook real rice instead of porridge. That evening, the family once again enjoyed rice and meat.

“It’s so good to have rice again,” Jiang Nan said happily after finishing his bowl, completely content.

The others felt the same.

Watching her children eat with bright faces, Zhao Ru finally let out a deep breath of relief.

Before bed, Jiang Ji checked the man’s temperature again—it had dropped a bit, down to 39°C.

The fever was going down. That meant he was improving, and everyone felt a little lighter.

After giving him his medicine, Jiang Ji went to bed himself.

He’d barely slept the night before, worried about the patient. Now that things had calmed down, exhaustion hit him all at once. He fell asleep deeply, not even dreaming, until dawn broke.

Yawning, Jiang Ji sat up and turned to look at the man beside him. He reached out to touch his forehead to check the temperature—but just as his hand brushed the man’s skin, a powerful grip clamped down on his wrist.

Jiang Ji: ?

A pair of sharp, wary eyes stared into his, filled with danger and feral alertness, as if to say, Move, and I’ll kill you.

The grip was iron-strong. Jiang Ji winced—the man’s hand locked so tightly around his wrist he couldn’t move.

For a moment Jiang Ji froze—then realized the man’s eyes were open. Delighted, he exclaimed, “Buddy, you’re finally awake?”

The man kept staring, his gaze still cold and watchful, like a predator poised to strike.

“Easy, easy. I’m not going to hurt you,” Jiang Ji said quickly. “You were injured—stab wounds, multiple. You passed out in the woods near the village. I brought you back. Do you remember anything?”

Seeing that Jiang Ji didn’t seem dangerous, the man slowly loosened his grip, scanning the surroundings before trying to sit up.

“Hey, hey—don’t move,” Jiang Ji said, holding him down gently. “I told you, you’re hurt. Stay still, or you’ll reopen your wounds.”

The man frowned slightly as pain shot through him. He lifted his shirt and saw his torso wrapped in bandages.

He looked up at Jiang Ji. “You… saved me?”

His voice was rough, dry from thirst.

“Yeah. Your wounds were infected, festering—you almost didn’t make it,” Jiang Ji said while pulling on his coat.

Despite his injuries, the man made no sound of pain—his brows only furrowed faintly.

He’s got a high tolerance, Jiang Ji thought.

“Thank you,” the man said, glancing around. “Where is this place?”

“My home, of course,” Jiang Ji replied, fastening his coat.

Jiang Bei woke up at that moment, hearing voices. He sat up and asked, “Brother, is he awake?”

“Yeah, he’s awake.”

“Great! That means we get rice for the next three months!”

Jiang Bei still remembered his brother’s promise that if they saved the man, the immortal would reward them with three months’ worth of rice. Excited, he scrambled out of bed to look.

“Put on your clothes first,” Jiang Ji reminded him. “You’ll catch cold.”

“Oh.” Jiang Bei obediently began dressing.

Hearing the child’s voice, the man tilted his head back and saw another bed above, where two boys were stirring.

“They’re my younger brothers,” Jiang Ji said. “Twins—Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei. I’m Jiang Ji—‘Ji’ as in ‘lonely.’” He scooted toward the edge of the bed to pull on his pants, then glanced back at the man. “So, brother—what’s your name? How’d you get so badly hurt?”

“I…” The man’s eyes went blank. His head suddenly throbbed sharply, pain twisting through it like knives. He raised a hand to press it.

“Hey, don’t touch it—you’ve got a head wound too,” Jiang Ji said, quickly pulling his hand away. “Does it hurt?”

The man opened his eyes and nodded.

“You must’ve hit your head somewhere—it’s injured too. Probably a mild concussion. I already applied medicine; you’ll get better soon, don’t worry,” Jiang Ji said, then asked, “Oh right, you still haven’t told me—what’s your name?”

The man froze for a moment, then after thinking for a while, said in confusion, “I don’t know.”

Jiang Ji was stunned. “You don’t know?”

“I don’t.”

Jiang Ji blinked. Could it be… amnesia?

“Then do you remember how you got hurt? Where your home is? How you ended up here?”

The man again shook his head.

A head injury could definitely cause memory loss. Jiang Ji studied his face carefully—the man’s eyes were steady but vacant, filled with confusion. It didn’t look like he was pretending.

Jiang Ji calmly concluded, “Brother, I hate to break it to you, but you’ve probably lost your memory.”

The man frowned, straining to pull something—anything—from his mind, but nothing came.

Seeing that expression, Jiang Ji patted his shoulder and said reassuringly, “It’s fine. This kind of thing is usually temporary. You might remember everything again before you know it. For now, just stay here. In your condition, you can’t go anywhere anyway. Focus on healing first.”

The man looked at him quietly and murmured, “Thank you.”

Thandar: 😢 I noticed there’s always some haters who give 1-2 stars on NU as soon as we upload a new yaoi novel 😤 like instantly. If they don’t like yaoi, just ignore it come on.

🌾🌾🌾🌾🌾

The viewers were curious.

【What special task?】

“The system says it can provide medical supplies,” Jiang Ji explained grimly, “but only if I tell my family about its existence.”

He was furious. “I literally just thought about whether I should tell them or not—and decided against it because it’s too dangerous if anyone else finds out. Then boom—2977 instantly drops this task on me!”

“This is ridiculous! Absolutely immoral!”

【Damn, that system’s shady. You can’t just tell people something like that!】
【Exactly. Don’t flaunt your fortune—keep your treasure hidden.】
【But it’s such a hassle if you have to sneak out every time.】
【Your family seems trustworthy though, right? Maybe it’s fine?】
【Careful—people in ancient times were superstitious. They might think he’s a demon or something. Way too risky.】

“That’s exactly what I’m worried about!” Jiang Ji exclaimed. “What if word spreads? What if they think I’m possessed and burn me at the stake? Or some thief hears about it and kills me for it? I don’t even know martial arts!”

【So what now?】
【Don’t panic—maybe that guy will pull through on his own.】

Jiang Ji stomped around in circles, kicking a sapling in frustration. “I shouldn’t have even thought about it! 2977 can literally read my mind!”

【Be careful next time.】
【Host, try wiping the fever guy down with warm water to bring his temperature down—neck, armpits, palms, soles, and groin.】
【Yeah, maybe he’ll survive after all. See how it goes first.】
【And have some faith in your family—they all seem kind-hearted.】

After a while, the comments calmed him down. He took a deep breath. “You’re right. Let’s see if I can get his temperature down first.”

Jiang Ji exchanged ten catties of rice, two catties of pork, and ten eggs from the system and brought them home.

His family was stunned the moment he walked in.

“Why so much food?” Zhao Ru asked, eyes wide.

“Wow, there’s meat—and eggs!” Jiang Nan shouted.

“We get to eat meat again!” Jiang Bei cheered.

Jiang Ji smiled. “The pork was a reward from the rich man’s household. His son’s getting married, so every helper got some. The rice and eggs I traded for with my wages.”

“What a generous man!” Jiang Bei exclaimed.

“Yeah, a real gentleman,” Jiang Ji said lightly.

【Ahem, I’m one of those ‘rich men’ myself.】
【Same here—I chipped in too!】

Because there was food again, the family’s spirits soared. The meal was cheerful, filled with laughter.

Jiang Xia whispered, “Brother, did you hear? Yesterday, Jin Hua got flogged ten times. She’s been lying in bed ever since. They say she won’t recover for half a month. The whole village’s talking about it.”

“Serves her right,” Jiang Ji snorted. “What about Li Laosan?”

“I heard he’s still in jail—got beaten a hundred times with the rod. Might not even be alive.”

“Good.”

They whispered a bit more gossip, venting their satisfaction. Zhao Ru still reminded them, “You must be careful around that family. If you ever run into one of them alone, don’t confront them—just come home, understood?”

“Got it.”

Later, Zhao Ru saved a bowl of porridge, let it cool, and went with Jiang Ji to feed the wounded man. She also placed a wet cloth on his forehead to cool him down.

“Xiao Ji, sleep lightly tonight,” Zhao Ru said softly. “Check his temperature in the middle of the night.”

“Okay, Mother.”

Since the injured man was lying in Jiang Ji’s bed and they hadn’t prepared another, Zhao Ru sent Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei to Aunt Xiufang’s house to sleep with her son, Dazhu.

It was already late. After washing up, Jiang Ji filled two basins—one with warm water, one with cool—and decided to follow the viewers’ advice for physical cooling.

He touched the man’s forehead. Still burning hot. He pressed a cold cloth there, then began wiping his neck, armpits, palms, soles, arms, and legs with the warm water… and finally, the groin.

To keep the man covered, Jiang Ji loosened his belt just enough to slide the towel in. Inevitably, his hand brushed against certain areas. He glanced at the man’s face, muttering under his breath, “Damn, this guy’s… uh, well-endowed.”

After two rounds of wiping, he set the towel aside and lay down.

“Buddy, you’d better make it.”

Half-asleep, Jiang Ji drifted off. He woke once in the middle of the night, groggy, and reached over to touch the man’s forehead—still burning.

It was 3 a.m.

Remembering the doctor’s words, he got up, lit the tung-oil lamp, and went to fetch medicine from the kitchen.

The decoction had gone cold in the night air.

He didn’t know how to make a fire and hesitated. “Maybe I should just give it to him cold…” He’d barely poured half a bowl when Zhao Ru appeared.

“Xiao Ji, you need to reheat it. Cold medicine won’t do.”

“Mother, you’re awake too?”

“I couldn’t sleep—kept worrying. Then I heard you get up.” She smiled faintly. “Let me handle it.”

She poured the medicine back into the pot, set it over the small stove, and tossed in a handful of pine needles. The fire caught quickly, crackling under thin twigs. Soon, the medicine was warm again.

Jiang Ji filled the small pot with water to keep it heating while he and Zhao Ru went to feed the man the medicine.

“His forehead’s still burning up,” Zhao Ru murmured, frowning.

“He’ll pull through,” Jiang Ji said, forcing optimism. “I’ll wipe him down again. You should rest, Mother—it’s almost dawn.”

“Alright. Don’t stay up too long yourself.”

Jiang Ji wiped the man several more times. But if the fever still didn’t drop by morning…

When daylight came, Jiang Ji fetched the doctor again. After checking the pulse and wounds, the old man shook his head. “The fever hasn’t gone down. The abdominal wound shows no improvement. I’m afraid there’s little else I can do.”

Jiang Ji knew all too well—infected wounds in this era often meant death.

He forced another bowl of fever medicine into the man.

By afternoon, the man’s temperature still hadn’t fallen. The wound on his abdomen had begun to ooze pus and blood again, and he still hadn’t regained consciousness.

“Big brother, why isn’t he waking up?” Jiang Bei crouched beside the bed, staring nervously at the man. He turned to Jiang Ji, voice trembling. “He’s not going to die… right?”

Jiang Ji: …

He patted Jiang Bei’s head. “Go outside first. I’ll check his wounds.”

“Oh.”

After sending his brother out, Jiang Ji closed the door and stared at the unconscious man for a long time before turning to his viewers for help.

“Guys, anyone here a doctor? Can you tell if he’s going to make it?”

【How about I schedule a remote consultation and get a surgeon to watch your stream?】
【My uncle’s a surgeon! Wait, I’ll call him—don’t go anywhere.】

A few minutes later, that same viewer sent a gift of instant noodles, catching Jiang Ji’s attention.

【My uncle’s here. He’s a surgeon at a big hospital. His account’s the one with all numbers.】

“Everyone, hold off on chatting for a second,” Jiang Ji said quickly. “Let the doctor take a look.”

The comments slowed down, and soon a numbered account appeared on screen.

【Show me the patient’s wounds.】

“Doctor, hi. He has a lot of injuries—these are knife wounds, this one’s from a sword, and the one on his abdomen is already festering.” Jiang Ji explained while peeling back the man’s bandages and herbs for the doctor to see.

The surgeon looked at each wound through the stream feed.

【From what I hear, you’re in an ancient time period—so I assume there’s no antibiotics?】

Jiang Ji: “None. Just herbs and some wound powder.”

【The abdominal wound looks about 13–14 centimeters long. The surrounding tissue is red, swollen, and infected. The other wounds are inflamed too. He’s also unconscious with a high fever—that’s severe. He needs antibiotics immediately, plus debridement and infection control. Otherwise, if it turns into bacteremia, it’ll be much harder to treat, and sepsis could set in.】

【Your wound powder helps with bleeding and some swelling, but it’s limited. And with these knife and sword wounds—if the blades were rusty—he absolutely needs a tetanus shot.】

【I’ve heard your system can supply modern medicine. You should use it: antibiotics and a tetanus vaccine are essential. That’ll give him the best chance to survive. If you can get the medical supplies, I’ll guide you through cleaning and suturing the wounds live.】

Jiang Ji didn’t understand the word “bacteremia,” but he knew “sepsis.” People died from that. He needed antibiotics.

He fell silent for a moment, looking at the man’s handsome face, and sighed.

He’d brought him home—he couldn’t just let the guy die in his bed.

Buddy, if you make it through this, you’d better repay me with your life.

“Thank you, doctor. Can you wait for me a bit?”

【Sure.】

Jiang Ji left the room and walked into the courtyard. His mother and Jiang Xia were scrubbing an old wooden door with wet cloths, while Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei carried straw from the woodshed.

“Mom, what are you doing?” he asked.

Zhao Ru answered while wiping, “I borrowed this old door from your Aunt Xiufang’s house, along with a quilt. Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei are still little—this’ll make a fine bed for them. We’ll stuff it with straw so they won’t have to crowd in with Dazhu anymore.”

No bed, no spare quilt—his mother even had to borrow one.

Jiang Ji could already picture her face when she’d gone to ask. No matter how close they were, it must have stung her pride.

He, the young master who’d never had to beg anyone in nineteen years, couldn’t even imagine lowering himself like that.

And Zhao Ru looked so much like his real mother.

It hurt.

He didn’t want her humbling herself over little things anymore. He didn’t want them living like this.

His chest tightened. Taking a deep breath, he made up his mind.

“Mom, everyone, come inside. I have something to tell you.”

They all gathered around the kitchen stove. Jiang Ji shut the doors, sat beside Jiang Bei, and faced them in a small circle.

“Mom, Xia’er, Jiang Nan, Jiang Bei—what I’m about to say is really important. You have to promise to keep it secret.”

“Did something happen?” Zhao Ru asked quietly, seeing how serious he looked. “Is it about the man in your room? Is he dangerous?”

Jiang Xia and the boys looked at their brother, anxious and curious.

Jiang Ji shook his head. “No, it’s not that. I don’t know who he is yet. What I need to tell you is something else.”

“Then what is it?”

“Mother… I’m sorry. I lied to you.” Jiang Ji began, lowering his head. “That rice and pork—it wasn’t given to me by the rich man’s family.”

They all froze. “Huh?”

Zhao Ru immediately asked, “Then where did it come from? You didn’t do anything dangerous, did you?”

“No, don’t worry,” Jiang Ji said, clearing his throat. “It was… a reward from an immortal.”

“An immortal?!” everyone gasped.

“Yes, an immortal.” Jiang Ji was fully committed to the lie now, his tone steady. “Remember when I fell down the hill and hit my head?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“When I woke up, I saw a deity. He gave me a treasure—a magical tool called a ‘system.’”

“A… deity?” “A treasure?” They all stared at him, wide-eyed.

Jiang Ji nodded solemnly. “He said if I completed the missions he gave me, this treasure would reward me with food.”

“Ah?”

“So these past two days, I wasn’t actually at the rich man’s house. The immortal wanted to see our world, so I took him around to explore. The rice and pork were his rewards to me.”

Zhao Ru blinked. “An… immortal gave them to you?”

“Yep.”

Zhao Ru, Jiang Xia, Jiang Nan, and Jiang Bei: …

All of them sat there, dazed.

“It’s true! Look—I’ll show you.”

Jiang Ji raised his hand and exchanged two catties of rice.

Right before their eyes, rice appeared out of thin air.

Everyone: “!”

Zhao Ru was stunned. “Th-this… how did that appear out of thin air?”

Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei both gasped. “Wow!”

Jiang Xia’s round eyes widened in shock, her mouth hanging open.

Jiang Ji kept up the act. “It’s the treasure the immortal gave me—it can make things appear like this.”

As he spoke, he materialized another bag of peanuts in his hand.

“Wow!”

“It really appeared!”

They all stared at him in awe. “It’s really from an immortal?”

“Yes,” Jiang Ji said calmly.

Jiang Nan cheered, “Then we’ll never run out of rice again!”

Jiang Ji blinked. “Not exactly. I can’t just make as much as I want—I have to complete the missions the immortal gives me first.”

“Of course,” Zhao Ru said, lightly tapping Jiang Nan’s head. “Don’t go thinking you can get something for nothing. Remember this—heaven doesn’t hand out free pies. You only reap what you sow. If you want something, you have to work for it.”

Jiang Nan rubbed his head, nodding earnestly. “I understand, Mother.”

Jiang Bei asked curiously, “Brother, what does that treasure look like?”

“It’s inside my head—you can’t see it,” Jiang Ji replied.

“Then what’s the immortal asking you to do?”

Jiang Ji said, “Right now, the mission is to save that man in my room. If I can keep him alive, the immortal will reward us with enough rice, pork, and eggs for three months.”

Everyone: “!”

“But… he’s hurt so badly,” Zhao Ru said anxiously. “How can we possibly save him?”

“The immortal gave me some medicine and tools to stitch his wounds. Mother, I’ll need your help.”

“Alright,” Zhao Ru agreed immediately.

“And one more thing,” Jiang Ji warned them solemnly. “No one can know about this treasure, understand? It has to stay secret. If anyone finds out, the immortal will take it back and give it to someone else—and he’ll take all our rice too. Then we’ll have nothing to eat.”

He paused, lowering his voice. “And if others hear we have something valuable, they might come to rob us… even kill us for it.”

The mention of “killing to steal the treasure” froze everyone in place.

Zhao Ru’s expression turned serious again. “Your brother’s right. You all remember this—never speak a word of it, you hear me?”

“I promise I’ll keep the secret!” Jiang Bei said firmly.

“Even if I’m beaten, I won’t tell!” Jiang Nan declared.

“I won’t say anything either, Brother,” Jiang Xia added, eyes shining.

Seeing their determination, Jiang Ji finally relaxed. He walked to the doorway and asked the system, “2977, the task’s done now, right?”

【The host has not fully disclosed the truth.】

Jiang Ji glared. “You only said I had to tell my family about the system’s existence. The system is the treasure! I told them it’s called a treasure from an immortal! Don’t play word games with me.”

2977 seemed to pause, calculating. After a long moment, it finally responded:

【Congratulations, host. Special task completed. Reward available for collection.】
【Total audience count has reached 100,000. Daily necessities category unlocked.】

Jiang Ji’s eyes lit up. Finally—he could exchange for a bed and quilts!

🌾🌾🌾🌾🌾

The man on Jiang Ji’s back was limp and heavy from unconsciousness. Gasping for breath, Jiang Ji finally staggered home under the weight.

“Brother! Mother, Brother’s back!” Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei, who had been waiting by the gate, shouted the moment they saw him.

“Move aside, both of you—someone’s hurt!”

At once, the two little ones jumped aside to let their brother through.

“Xiao Ji, you’re back—” Zhao Ru and Jiang Xia were standing at the kitchen door. When Zhao Ru noticed the figure on his back, she blinked in surprise. “What happened?”

“I found this man hurt,” Jiang Ji said, carrying the stranger inside. “Picked him up in the small grove by the village entrance. Take a look, Mother—maybe you know him? I’ll take him home afterward.”

Since it was near the village, Jiang Ji had assumed the man was a local.

“Injured?” Zhao Ru grabbed the tung-oil lamp and hurried over. She looked carefully, then frowned. “No… I don’t recognize him. He’s not from our village.”

“Huh?” Jiang Ji was stunned. “Then maybe from the next one over?”

“Not them either. I’ve never seen this person before,” Zhao Ru said.

If even his mother didn’t know him, then no one else in the household did.

So there was no home to return him to.

“Forget it—saving him comes first.” Jiang Ji carried the man straight into his own room. “Jiang Nan, go get the doctor! Tell him someone’s badly hurt and unconscious—quick!”

“Got it!” Jiang Nan dashed out like the wind to fetch the old village physician.

Zhao Ru followed with the lamp, lighting the way, while Jiang Xia hurried ahead to pull back the blanket on Jiang Ji’s bed. Jiang Ji set the man down with a heavy sigh of exhaustion.

He’d already been hungry and tired, and hauling a grown man all the way back had drained his last bit of strength.

“He’s completely passed out,” Zhao Ru said, raising the lamp to get a better look—then gasped aloud. “Heavens, so many wounds!”

Jiang Ji turned around and froze. The man’s black coat was filthy and torn, thin for the season. His arms, chest, and abdomen were all slashed open, and on the left side of his chest, blood was still seeping from a puncture wound. There was also a gash on his head.

Holy crap—he looked like he’d been hacked to pieces.

Whoever attacked him hadn’t held back.

Jiang Ji looked closer at the man’s face: strong brows, straight nose, sharp jawline—handsome, maybe twenty-five or twenty-six at most.

Wow. A pretty boy—and a young one at that.

“Xia’er, take Jiang Bei outside. See if the doctor’s coming, and don’t come back in later. Boil some water, too,” Zhao Ru instructed. It wouldn’t be proper for a young girl to stay while treating a grown man’s injuries, and Jiang Bei was still too small—she didn’t want him frightened by the sight of blood.

“Okay, Mother.”

Jiang Bei wanted to stay and watch, but Jiang Xia dragged him out.

Before long, the old physician arrived with his grandson, Da Qiang, a few years older than Jiang Ji.

The moment they saw the man’s condition, both of them sucked in a breath.

“Jiang Ji, where’d you find this guy?” Da Qiang asked.

“At the grove by the village gate. I thought he was one of ours.”

“With wounds like that… could he have run into bandits?” Da Qiang guessed.

Or maybe an enemy, Jiang Ji thought privately.

Zhao Ru held up the lamp while Jiang Ji and Da Qiang helped the doctor undress the wounded man to examine him.

A jade pendant slipped from the man’s chest—a rich, translucent green, clearly valuable. Jiang Ji picked it up and handed it to his mother. “Mother, keep this safe for him.”

Zhao Ru nodded and tucked it away.

When they saw the full extent of his injuries, everyone drew a sharp breath.

A one-inch cut on the arm. A five- or six-inch slash across the chest from left to right. Another three- or four-inch gash across the abdomen, the flesh turned outward and already showing signs of infection. A diagonal wound marked his back as well.

But the most dangerous of all was the stab wound on the left side of his chest—alarmingly close to the heart.

“The head looks like it struck something hard, but the waist and abdomen… those are blade wounds,” the old doctor said gravely, inspecting the injuries. “And this one on the chest—it’s from a sword.”

“The doctor… can he be saved?” Jiang Ji asked anxiously.

The old physician took the man’s pulse and examined his wounds. “His breathing is very faint, and his fever’s dangerously high. Hard to say.”

He wrote out a prescription and handed it to Da Qiang. “For now, we’ll bandage the wounds. I don’t have enough hemostatic powder with me. Qiangzi, run home and bring the rest from the top drawer. There’s also a bottle of golden wound medicine—bring that, and plenty of gauze. Tell your father to mix these herbs and send them over right away, and grind up more poultices for external use—we’ll need a lot.”

“Got it.” Da Qiang sprinted off.

The doctor got to work. Before long, Da Qiang came back with the medicine. Zhao Ru took a portion to boil for internal use, while the doctor cleaned and dressed the man’s wounds. It took more than half an hour to finish. The sword wound in his chest bled stubbornly, and the festering abscess on his abdomen took forever to clean before the golden wound powder could be applied.

“Doctor, will he live?” Jiang Ji asked, pulling one of his own shirts over the man and tucking him under the blanket.

“It’s hard to say. The wounds are all deep—especially that one on the chest. It was bleeding nonstop; it might have reached the heart meridian. I barely managed to stop it.”

The old man sighed heavily. “He’s lost a lot of blood and has a raging fever. Whether he survives depends on if the fever breaks. If it doesn’t…”

He trailed off, shaking his head, and Jiang Ji understood.

The high fever was clearly from infection and inflammation, and in this era, there were no antibiotics—no quick way to bring a fever down. Treating an infected wound here was nearly impossible.

“When the medicine’s ready, feed it to him. If the fever hasn’t gone down after two hours, give him another bowl,” the doctor instructed.

“Alright, I understand.”

After walking the doctor and Da Qiang out, Jiang Ji returned to the room and placed a hand on the man’s forehead—it was burning hot, easily over 39 degrees.

“The medicine’s done,” Zhao Ru said, bringing in a bowl. Jiang Ji carefully lifted the man’s shoulders while Zhao Ru spooned the medicine into his mouth.

They’d done all they could. Now it was up to fate.

Zhao Ru rose. “Xiao Ji, let him rest. Come eat first.”

“Mm.”

Mother and son went back to the kitchen. Jiang Xia had already set the table.

Jiang Ji washed his hands and sat down. Dinner was porridge and stir-fried radish with pork.

He noticed the meat dish looked just as generous as last night’s and asked, “What did you guys eat for lunch? How do we still have this much meat left?”

“Wild vegetable soup and bran cakes,” Jiang Nan replied cheerfully. “We were waiting for you, Brother, to eat the rice and meat together!”

Jiang Ji fell silent.

He glanced at the basket on the counter—the radish and cabbage shoots Aunt Xiufang had given them that morning were still untouched. His mother hadn’t had the heart to cook them.

A lump rose in his throat. “Mom, next time you don’t need to wait for me. I won’t go hungry.”

“Alright, alright. Eat up—you must be exhausted today,” Zhao Ru said gently. “Does your head still hurt?”

“It’s better.” Jiang Ji smiled faintly. “From now on, we won’t have to eat bran cakes every day. I made a lot of—”

He froze mid-sentence. He’d forgotten to claim the rice reward after finding the injured man.

Blinking, he quickly thought of an excuse and suddenly exclaimed, “Crap!”

“What’s wrong?” Zhao Ru looked at him in surprise. The others paused and stared.

“I left the rice in the grove!” Jiang Ji said, slapping his forehead. “The steward from the rich man’s household gave it to me as payment! You all eat first, I’ll go fetch it.”

He set down his bowl and hurried out.

Once around the corner, behind the house where no one could see, he stopped and sat on a rock by the roadside, waiting a few minutes before heading back—he’d have to make it look like a quick trip.

But this couldn’t go on. If he wanted to bring food home, he’d always have to invent excuses to “go work,” just to have a reason.

And long-term, that wouldn’t work. It might keep them fed, but he couldn’t openly use the system’s goods or sell them in bulk for money.

He could sneak things into town to sell for cash, sure—but how would he explain where the money came from? That’d just mean more lies.

Still, telling his family about the system was too risky. Zhao Ru and Jiang Xia might believe him and keep quiet, but Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei were little. What if one of them let it slip? If outsiders found out, would they call him a monster?

And worse—treasures invite thieves. If someone came after him for it, they’d all be doomed.

Better safe than sorry.

After some thought, Jiang Ji decided not to tell them for now.

It’d be a hassle, but at least they wouldn’t have to eat bran cakes anymore.

Opening the livestream interface, he saw over forty thousand viewers online. The chat was buzzing about the wounded man.

【Definitely an enemy’s doing. If it were bandits, how do you explain that jade pendant?】
【Yeah, I think it’s revenge.】
【Man, ancient times were dangerous.】
【With those wounds, surviving back then won’t be easy.】
【That fever’s from infection. Can herbs alone cure that?】
【No disinfectant, no antibiotics… I don’t know if he’ll make it.】
【He’s so handsome though—please let him live!】
【Those gashes need stitching or they won’t heal right.】

Jiang Ji agreed. “Hey, any doctors in the chat? His fever’s way too high—probably 39 or 40 degrees Celsius. What can I do? Is there anything else I should try?”

【Ask the system if it has antibiotics!】
【Yeah, ask the system—maybe it’s got medicine or better hemostatics.】
【And since he’s got stab wounds, he’ll need tetanus prevention too.】

Jiang Ji smacked his forehead. Right! “2977, can you save that man?”

【The system can provide medical supplies and pharmaceuticals. The host may perform treatment personally.】

“You’ve got medicine? Then give it to me!” Jiang Ji said eagerly.

【The host must complete a special task to unlock medical resources.】

“What special task?”

【Disclose the existence of the system to your family.】

“What the hell!” Jiang Ji jumped up. “You’ve been reading my mind, haven’t you?!”

🌾🌾🌾🌾🌾

Jiang Ji shot upright in bed.

His follower count had jumped to over twenty thousand overnight!
It seemed proving last night that there was no hidden camera really worked.

They had all been doubting whether he was acting, and honestly, Jiang Ji understood. If he hadn’t experienced it himself, he’d think it was fake too.

Even though he had “magically produced” items through the system, many people hadn’t seen it happen live. Some still suspected it was sleight of hand—after all, magicians could make things appear out of thin air too.

But now, one step at a time, he was making them believe this was all real. With such a bizarre, unbelievable setup, his livestream was bound to explode in popularity sooner or later!

【Huh? The streamer’s already online this early?】
【Morning, streamer!】
【I’m on my way to work—didn’t expect you up so early, it’s only six o’clock!】

“Good morning, everyone.”

Jiang Ji greeted softly, seeing fifty-some people trickle into the chat.
Probably all wage slaves heading to work early.

He’d gone to bed early the night before, and since the body’s original owner had long been used to farm labor, it had a solid routine—early to bed, early to rise.

Outside, dawn was just breaking. Since he couldn’t go back to sleep, he got dressed quietly.

He shared a bed with Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei; the two kids were still sound asleep. Jiang Ji gently pulled the blanket back over Jiang Bei, who’d kicked it off. Jiang Nan had rolled sideways and exposed his shoulder, so Jiang Ji straightened him out and covered him again to keep him from catching a chill.

The main room door was ajar. When Jiang Ji stepped into the courtyard, the faint smell of herbal medicine drifted out from the kitchen.

He went inside and saw Zhao Ru crouched by the stove, tending the fire—cooking wild vegetable porridge while also boiling his medicine.

“Mother, you’re up so early.”

“You’re awake?” Zhao Ru stirred the porridge to keep it from sticking. “You’re heading out today, so I started early. Once breakfast and your medicine are ready, you can eat, drink up, and go.”

Jiang Ji didn’t reply at once. The porridge was almost done—it meant she’d been up for a while already.

The light in the kitchen was dim, but the fire under the stove glowed warmly, lighting up Zhao Ru’s thin, gentle face.

Jiang Ji’s nose stung a little. For a moment, it felt like he was seeing his mother again. Back when he was a student, he always wanted to sleep in, and his mom would patiently but firmly wake him up and send him off to school.

“Xiao Ji, why are you just standing there? Go wash up. There’s hot water in the pot. I’ll cool your porridge and medicine. Eat, then head out—you can’t be late for your first day helping that household.”

Her voice pulled him back to the present. He sniffed lightly and nodded. “Alright.”

They didn’t have toothbrushes—people here brushed using willow twigs.

Jiang Ji took a piece from the water, studied it for a moment, then bit one end to split it open and peeled away a bit of bark to expose the fibers.

【Is that… a toothbrush?】
【Yeah, I think so. In ancient times they used branches to brush their teeth.】
【It is—he used it last night too.】
【Didn’t he say viewers can earn him points? Why doesn’t he just redeem a toothbrush?】
【You must’ve missed the replay. The household goods tab’s still locked. Needs 100k total viewers first.】
【Ah, that makes sense. I watched part of the replay last night but fell asleep before he got home.】

After brushing and washing up, Jiang Ji sat at the small table for breakfast.

Jiang Xia was already awake too. She’d washed up, skipped breakfast, and was preparing to carry two wooden buckets to fetch water.

Jiang Ji blinked—right, the original him used to do that every morning. Since he had to go out today, the little girl was taking over without complaint.

He remembered how heavy those buckets were, even empty. With water, they were much worse.

Watching her small, slender figure, he called out, “Xia’er, wait till I get back—I’ll fetch it.”

“No need, brother, I’m strong enough.” She smiled and walked off before he could stop her.

Jiang Ji opened his mouth but didn’t speak. He could only sigh inwardly. The little girl was far too sensible.

Not just Jiang Xia—the twins, Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei, were the same. They never complained even when eating coarse bran cakes or wild greens every day.

He thought of his cousin’s son, who was a bit older than Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei, but still needed a nanny to chase him around with a spoon—and would throw tantrums if the food didn’t taste right.

Then it hit him—he used to be just like that as a kid, fussy and spoiled.

Jiang Ji: …

A little embarrassed, he sighed again.

This morning’s porridge was wild vegetable porridge cooked with a bit of rice, seasoned with salt, and even dotted with a few chunks of meat.

Jiang Ji had two small bowls. Then Zhao Ru brought him the bowl of herbal medicine, now cooled to a warm temperature.

“You were supposed to drink it later, but since you’re leaving soon, might as well take it now.”

It was his third dose, and he still couldn’t stand the taste. But by now he’d learned one thing about herbal medicine—you had to down it in one gulp. Sipping it bit by bit only made the suffering worse.

He frowned and downed the medicine in one gulp.

Once he finished, it was time to head out. Jiang Ji really didn’t want to leave so early, but since he’d claimed yesterday that the rich man’s estate was far away, he had no choice but to set off at dawn.

Zhao Ru walked him to the gate and said with concern, “If your head starts hurting, tell the steward to let you rest a bit.”

“Alright.”

“Oh, Xiao Ji’s going out so early?”

Just as he was about to leave, Aunt Xiufang passed by with her husband, Uncle Tugeng.

Uncle Tugeng was carrying two baskets full of vegetables—radishes, Chinese cabbage shoots, and some chives—clearly on his way to town to sell them.

“Morning, Uncle, Aunt,” Jiang Ji greeted.

Zhao Ru explained, “A wealthy household’s holding a banquet, and they’re short-handed. Xiao Ji’s going to help out.”

“Didn’t he hit his head yesterday? And you’re still letting him work?” Aunt Xiufang asked.

“It’s nothing serious,” Jiang Ji replied quickly. “I already promised them.”

“Alright then, just be careful.” Aunt Xiufang reached into one of the baskets and pulled out a handful of cabbage shoots and a radish, handing them to Zhao Ru. “I just picked these this morning—the weather’s warmer, and the shoots are growing well. Take some.”

Aunt Xiufang was Zhao Ru’s childhood friend from the same village. They’d both married into this one, and after Jiang Ji’s father passed away, Zhao Ru had been struggling to raise her children alone. Though Aunt Xiufang’s family wasn’t well-off either, she still tried to help whenever she could.

Zhao Ru hurriedly pushed the vegetables back. “Xiufang, I can’t take these. Isn’t Dazhu starting school soon? You’ll need money for the entrance fees and to buy brushes and ink. You should sell them.”

Aunt Xiufang stuffed the vegetables right into her arms, glaring at her. “What’s there to fuss about? These aren’t even worth a few coins—don’t be polite with me.”

Up ahead, Uncle Tugeng called impatiently, “You done chatting? Let’s go!”

According to the original owner’s memories, Uncle Tugeng and Jiang Ji’s late father had been enemies in their youth. They’d even fought once and had avoided each other ever since.

After Jiang Ji’s father passed away, Aunt Xiufang had occasionally helped the family out, though Uncle Tugeng always grumbled about it. Still, he never actually stopped her or took anything back.

A knife mouth, but a tofu heart.

“Coming! Hold your horses!” Aunt Xiufang shouted back before turning to Zhao Ru. “We’ll get going then.”

Zhao Ru hugged the vegetables. “Alright, thank you, Xiufang.”

“Don’t mention it. See you later.”

Bickering as they went, the couple soon disappeared down the road. Jiang Ji watched them go, then turned to wave at his mother and headed toward the edge of the village.

At the village entrance, he spoke to his viewers. “I said yesterday we’d head right today, so that’s the way I’m going.”

“Oh, right—guys, I checked this morning and saw my followers shot up to twenty thousand! What happened? Did I get boosted or something?”

There were already more than two hundred viewers online, many familiar names among them.

【When you logged off last night it was only nine-thirty—prime time traffic. People started sharing your video everywhere after you ended the stream.】
【Yeah, since replays can only be watched after you log off, a ton of people went to watch the recording. It’s blowing up.】

“My replay’s trending? Why don’t I see that data in my dashboard?” Jiang Ji asked the system, “2977, doesn’t the replay view count count toward my numbers?”

【The system only calculates data from live sessions.】

“…You’re stingy as hell,” Jiang Ji muttered. “That’s still my work bringing them in—how can it not count?”

【The system only calculates data from live sessions.】

Jiang Ji: “…”

【Haha, your system’s really by the book.】
【Don’t worry—with your growth speed, you’ll hit 100k soon enough.】

Chatting with the viewers as he walked, Jiang Ji continued exploring. Just like yesterday, he took random turns based on audience votes, doubling back whenever he hit dead ends.

When he got tired, he rested by the roadside; when thirsty, he stopped by a farmer’s home to ask for water.

“I’m really giving it my all today, guys—an all-day tour just for you.”

He knew perfectly well: once everyone truly believed he was in ancient times, hitting a million viewers would be a matter of time.

By noon, after all the zigzags, he’d wandered far.

Starving, he stopped at a village, redeemed two catties of rice and one of peanuts from his system rewards, and traded them with a local family for lunch.

By then, his livestream had over fifteen thousand concurrent viewers.

After eating and resting, he set out again.

Passing another village, he spotted a tall mountain and suddenly had an idea. “Guys, standing high means seeing far, right? How about I climb up there—maybe we’ll spot some modern buildings in the distance?”

【Yes! Do it!】
【Climb it!】
【Should’ve done that earlier!】

He asked a villager for directions and began climbing.

It was all narrow paths, steep and uneven. After about an hour and a half of hard climbing, he finally reached the summit.

It was the tallest mountain around, with a sweeping view of the landscape.

Jiang Ji slowly turned in a full circle, letting viewers see what he saw: rolling mountains, winding rivers, scattered villages along the banks, vast patchworks of farmland crisscrossed with paths—

—but not a single skyscraper, no steel bridges, no cars, no trace of modern civilization.

【What a primitive view…】
【Yeah, if this were a film set, there’d be signs of the city nearby.】
【Oh my god, it’s real.】
【Dude, you’re actually in ancient times.】

“See? I wasn’t lying. No film studios here—this is really ancient times.”

After resting at the peak for a bit, Jiang Ji stood up. “That’s it for today’s exploration. It’s getting late—I need to head back.”

“I’ve kinda lost track of where home is, but whatever—let’s find the main road first. That should lead us closest to home.”

Once he descended, Jiang Ji asked a passerby for directions, confirmed where the main road was, and walked another hour before finally reaching it.

The sky was growing dark.

He asked another passerby for directions and finally found the road leading back toward his town—only to realize he’d ended up on the opposite side of it.

From there, it wasn’t too far. After half an hour of walking, he reached the outskirts of town. But there was no time to take his viewers on a tour; he had to hurry out the opposite gate before they closed it for the night.

By the time he stepped outside the city walls, night had completely fallen. Luckily, the weather was clear, and the moon hung bright and silvery in the sky, spilling light like water—enough to make out the path ahead.

There wasn’t another soul on the road. It was just him.

“Good thing I’ve got you guys with me,” Jiang Ji muttered, “otherwise walking alone this late would be creepy as hell.”

【Out in the wilderness at night? I’d be scared too】
【Hurry up—nights weren’t safe in ancient times】

Jiang Ji trudged through the dark for another hour before turning onto the familiar village path. Another half hour’s walk and he’d pass two small villages before reaching home.

“Man, this is even later than yesterday. I’m beat.”

Before heading home, he ducked into a small grove to relieve himself. As he came back out, something suddenly caught his foot—and he went sprawling to the ground.

“Damn it!”

But… there was no pain. He pushed himself up and realized whatever he’d tripped over wasn’t a log or a rock—it was a person.

“What the—? Who’s there?”

His heart jumped. Out here, in the dark woods, that was enough to scare anyone to death.

The figure didn’t move. Jiang Ji nudged the person’s leg with his foot. “Hey! You—wake up!”

Still no response.

【Oh crap, what if it’s a dead body?】
【Don’t scare him like that!】
【This is ancient times—murder victims just get dumped in the woods back then】

The system’s livestream interface was still open, and Jiang Ji saw the scrolling comments. His chest tightened.

No way… could it really be a corpse?

The grove was pitch-black; he couldn’t see the person’s face.

Swallowing hard, he crouched down and reached out, feeling under the person’s nose.

“There’s breath,” he said in relief, exhaling sharply. He patted the person’s shoulder. “Hey, come on, wake up!”

His hand came away sticky. He brought it close to his nose—blood.

“Crap, you’re injured?”

No wonder they weren’t moving. Jiang Ji quickly hoisted the limp figure onto his back and hurried out of the grove, heading home as fast as he could.

🌾🌾🌾🌾🌾

From the time Jiang Ji came home to when the family finished eating, it had been no more than an hour and a half—yet he’d received more tips in that short span than during the entire afternoon!

That added up to 125 jin of rice and over 60 jin of peanuts! Even instant noodles—about ten packs of them!

Jiang Ji was both thrilled and confused. He quickly opened the comment section to find out what had happened.

【My god, their life is way too harsh. They even save the rice-washing water for the next day.】
【The little brother and sister are so thin—just skin and bones.】
【The twins are so well-behaved! When their mother said they could only eat three peanuts, they really stopped after three. Kids that age are usually greedy and playful—they actually held back.】
【Sometimes being “well-behaved” isn’t a compliment. It just means life has beaten them into it.】
【Sigh… they’re treating a simple radish stir-fry like a delicacy.】
【They haven’t eaten rice in two months. Poor things. Let’s give them more tips.】
【Such a simple meal, yet they were so happy. It’s heartbreaking.】

Jiang Ji scrolled through the comments and finally understood why there were suddenly so many rewards.

The viewers had been moved by the family’s poverty and genuine joy—they couldn’t help but feel pity.

He glanced at the list of tippers. Most were familiar names—the loyal viewers who had been watching since the afternoon.

Many of the new viewers had been brought in by those same fans, though some still didn’t quite believe what they were seeing.

【New here. Is this some kind of set for a slice-of-life drama?】
【Came because of the title. Still a bit confused. Pretty good acting, though?】
【My friend told me to watch—said the streamer has a system that can create items from thin air. Haven’t seen that yet. What’s going on?】
【Wait until he redeems something from the system. You’ll see.】
【It’s not acting—it’s real. This is a livestream. If it were staged, every one of them deserves an Oscar. The kids’ emotions are way too natural.】
【I really believe he’s in ancient times now.】
【I’ve been watching all afternoon. He definitely has a system! What they just ate came straight from it!】

The new audience remained skeptical, full of questions, while veteran viewers started explaining things in the comments—they’d been around long enough to know all the details of Jiang Ji’s situation.

【Why’s the screen shaking so much? God, that bowl of rice is right in my face—I feel like I’m eating with them.】
【He’s got the camera strapped to his head, right?】
【He said it’s not a camera. His eyes are the camera. Everything we see is literally what he sees, which is why the view keeps shifting.】
【Okay, changing angles I can get. But why does the image sometimes go oval, sometimes round?】
【When his eyes move, it goes oval; when he focuses on something, it turns rounder and narrower. Someone said it’s how the eyes focus—especially noticeable when he looks far away.】
【No way, seriously?】
【The screen hasn’t moved in a while.】
【Is he spacing out?】
【He’s waving his fingers in the air—bet he’s reading the comments.】

Seeing all this, Jiang Ji couldn’t help but smile. These loyal fans really were dependable.

“Brother, what are you doing? Why are your fingers moving like that?”

Beside the fire, Jiang Bei watched curiously as his older brother moved his fingers through the air, smiling to himself—it looked kind of creepy.

Jiang Ji snapped out of it, glanced at him, and lowered his hand. “Nothing. Just thinking.”

“Thinking about what?” Jiang Bei asked, eyes wide with curiosity.

“Thinking… that I need to get up early tomorrow,” Jiang Ji improvised smoothly. “Can’t be late to the steward’s place.”

【He really is reading the chat, I’m dying of laughter】
【Streamer, meal’s over—it’s time to get back to work】

Zhao Ru and Jiang Xia were cleaning the pot and washing dishes. The pot scrubber was just a bundle of straw tied together. Because the bowls were greasy tonight, Zhao Ru mixed in some wood ash, used the hot water from the pot, and dipped the straw brush to clean. It worked surprisingly well for removing oil stains.

【They’re still using straw ash to wash dishes—no detergent at all. If this is acting, the attention to detail is unreal】

Jiang Ji stood up. “I’m going to get some air.”

“Xiao Ji, are you going to bathe tonight?” Zhao Ru asked.

Jiang Ji nodded. “Yeah, I walked all afternoon and sweated a lot.”

“Alright, I’ll heat some water in a bit,” Zhao Ru said, then added, “Your head’s still not healed—don’t wash your hair.”

“Got it.”

Speaking of bathing, Jiang Ji remembered there was no body wash or shampoo here. People used soapberry water for bathing, washing hair, and even laundry.

He walked out into the yard, opened the system’s mall interface, and checked the section for household items.

Only then did he realize—right now, the only redeemable things were food. And only the types of food that existed in this world; anything that didn’t exist here couldn’t be exchanged yet.

As for daily necessities—that category was still completely locked.

“2977, why is the daily necessities tab greyed out?”

【Unlocking the daily necessities exchange requires a total of 100,000 accumulated viewers.】

“That many?” Jiang Ji sighed. “So I can’t use it yet. What about the second batch of fruits and vegetables?”

【The second batch includes items not yet existing in this world. Unlocking it requires 1,000,000 accumulated viewers.】

“…Even household items are divided into batches?”

【Yes. Just like the crops and produce.】

Jiang Ji: …

The viewers, who couldn’t hear 2977, were growing curious.

【What did the system say?】

Jiang Ji replied, “2977 said the daily necessities tab will unlock once the total number of viewers reaches 100,000.”

【Makes sense—daily items aren’t urgent】
【Food comes first. Filling the belly is priority one】
【By the way, isn’t your third mission already done? I saw there’s a new reward icon. What’s the prize? Did you finish the fourth mission yet?】

Jiang Ji checked the task screen. “Yeah, the third mission’s complete. The reward is a basic farming skill. The fourth one’s not done yet—it needs a total of 10,000 viewers.”

【Streamer, do you even know how to farm? I thought you were a rich second generation?】
【Rich second gen? For real?】
【He said before he crossed over, he lived on a planet called Blue Star. He was some rich heir—his father owns a corporation.】
【Wow, so he probably has no clue how to farm】
【But the body’s original owner knew how, right?】

Jiang Ji sighed. “Yeah, the original did. It’s all in his memory. That’s why I’m not interested in this skill. Farming’s tiring and backbreaking—farmers work themselves to the bone and barely earn enough to eat. Here, just filling our stomachs is already a struggle.”

【Fair point】
【Still, the system wouldn’t hand out something useless】
【Yeah, the system’s rewards are never random. Ask what exactly the skill does】

Jiang Ji paused. That actually made sense. He asked, “2977, what kind of skill is the basic farming one?”

2977 answered: 【The farming skill compiles agricultural knowledge from your original world, from ancient to modern times, divided into basic, intermediate, and advanced levels.】

Jiang Ji was stunned. “You mean farming methods from my world? You’ve got to be kidding—there’s no fertilizer or pesticides here!”

【The system’s basic farming skill integrates the wisdom of cultivators across eras. Its level surpasses the agricultural technology of your current world.】

“Oh…” Jiang Ji nodded in realization, but still felt no enthusiasm. “I’ll claim it later when I need it. Let’s see what the fourth reward is.”

The viewers were more excited than he was.

【What did the system say?】

Jiang Ji explained everything he’d just heard.

【Got it—so even without modern chemicals, ancient farmers had clever techniques. It’s probably combining that knowledge.】
【What’s the fourth reward?】

“Let me see…” Jiang Ji checked the screen. “The fourth reward is… tool modification skill.”

【Hahaha! You don’t want to farm, but the system really wants you to!】
【This is hilarious. The first few rewards feed you so you can survive, and now it’s just handing you farming tools and skills!】
【So your system’s basically a farming simulator?】

That set Jiang Ji off. “Yeah, it’s a farming system! It’s literally called the ‘Plow and harvest System.’ It dragged me here just to make me ‘experience the hardships of labor’ and ‘understand the struggles of working people’—how ridiculous is that?! Absolutely outrageous!”

【Hahahahahahahahaha】
【I can’t—this is killing me】
【Guess you must’ve been a spoiled rich kid before if it picked you for that】
【I’m crying. What a plot twist】

The entire chat was laughing. Jiang Ji looked up at the night sky, utterly speechless.

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. But when you’re done, don’t forget to share my stream and bring more viewers. Next milestone’s ten thousand!”

“Brother? Who are you talking to?”

A voice suddenly came from behind. Jiang Ji turned to see Jiang Bei standing there. It was too dark to see his face clearly, but he was looking around, as if searching for someone.

“No one. I was talking to myself.”

Jiang Bei’s mouth fell open in shock. He stared for a moment, then bolted back inside.

“Mother! My brother’s really gone mad! He was just talking to himself for ages, and I didn’t understand a word!”

Jiang Ji could hear every word perfectly.

Jiang Ji: …

【Oh no, the little brother overheard him for a while!】
【Hahahaha, that’s it. The kid’s convinced he’s lost his mind!】

【Anyone would think it’s weird if they saw someone muttering to themselves like that】
【Hahahahaha this is too funny】

Jiang Ji was exasperated. “Alright, that’s enough! You’re still laughing? I’m already miserable—have some decency, will you?”

【Hahahahahahahaha】
【I can’t breathe—how are you going to explain this?】
【Yeah, tell us, I wanna hear how you’re gonna talk your way out of this one】

Jiang Ji sighed, then looked up—and saw his whole family walking out from the kitchen toward him.

Zhao Ru looked worried. “Xiao Ji, your head…”

“Mother, I’m fine. Don’t listen to Jiang Bei’s nonsense.” He tried to reassure her while scrambling for an excuse.

“I’m not making it up!” Jiang Bei said indignantly. “Big brother, you were talking to yourself forever—something about tasks and missions! I didn’t understand a word!”

“T–Tasks?” Zhao Ru’s expression changed, alarmed. “Xiao Ji, you haven’t met any strange people, have you?”

Jiang Ji wanted to laugh and cry at once. After thinking a moment, he said, “Mother, really, I’m fine. The steward I met today told me that since I hit my head and my memory’s been off, I should practice recalling things—like past conversations—to help my recovery. He said his young master used to have the same problem, and that helped.”

Zhao Ru immediately asked, “Does it work?”

“Not sure yet,” Jiang Ji replied smoothly. “But he said his young master fully recovered.”

Zhao Ru brightened. “Then it’s worth a try. Keep practicing, dear. I won’t disturb you. I’ll call you once the bathwater’s ready.”

“Okay.”

Zhao Ru took the children back inside, though Jiang Bei lingered a moment, staring suspiciously at his brother.

Jiang Ji flicked his forehead. “Stop running to Mother with everything—you’ll just make her worry.”

Rubbing his forehead, Jiang Bei mumbled, “Okay…”

“Go on. I’ll… practice some more.”

Jiang Bei kept glancing back as he left.

【The streamer’s mouth is pure trickery】
【Yeah, sure—let’s see that ‘steward’ you supposedly met this afternoon】
【Auntie’s too easy to fool, she believed that instantly】
【Gotta hand it to you, your BS skills are elite】

Jiang Ji clasped his hands dramatically. “Flattered, flattered. If nothing else, I’ve got a quick mind.”

【Ughhh】
【Yeah, quick to lie through your teeth】

He chatted with the viewers for a bit longer before Zhao Ru called him to bathe.

Jiang Ji recalled how the original owner used to wash up. He asked Jiang Bei to bring a tung-oil lamp, then moved the wooden tub into the room, laid out clean inner clothes and a towel on a stool.

When he went to fetch water, Zhao Ru poured out some herbal medicine. “Drink this first. After your bath, you can rest.”

Jiang Ji really didn’t want to, but with the lump on his head still swollen, he had no choice but to pinch his nose and gulp it down.

He chased it with a bowl of water to wash away the bitterness.

“Mother, how many days do I have to drink this?”

“Seven days—until the swelling’s gone.”

Jiang Ji: …So twelve more doses?!

He grimaced but still carried the mixed water inside, fetched some soapberry liquid, and set it aside.

“2977, I’m going to take a bath. Can you turn off the livestream?”

【Your eyes control the stream. I can’t end it for you.】

Jiang Ji: …

He sighed. “Everyone, I’m bathing now. The system can’t shut off the stream, and I can’t keep my eyes closed the whole time. So behave yourselves, alright? Be civilized.”

He deliberately set the oil lamp as far away as possible—just in case he looked down by accident and gave the audience a show they didn’t need to see.

【Wait, you’re actually going to bathe on stream? Can’t you pause it?!】
【I’m dying—he’s really doing a live bath and telling us to behave】
【More, more!】
【He said closing his eyes for three seconds pauses it, and one minute ends it. He can’t exactly keep them closed the whole bath】
【Oh god, I forgot about that rule】
【His house is so poor—no bed, just straw on the floor?】
【So we’re really watching him bathe, huh? Hope this stream doesn’t get banned】
【Quiet—he’s taking his clothes off】
【Oh damn】

The screen first showed the stool in front of him. Then, piece by piece, clothing was tossed onto it. Finally, Jiang Ji stepped into the tub.

【Oh my god, he’s really bathing】
【This is wild—watch before the stream gets taken down】
【It won’t get banned… right?】
【Wait, there’s no moderator in this chat?】
【Yeah, I just realized—no mods here at all】

Jiang Ji didn’t dare lower his head. He stared straight ahead, carefully washing by touch. The dim light kept everything vague anyway.

Bathing in ancient times wasn’t easy—mainly because of the lack of water. Ordinary folk might bathe only every several days, and in winter, once a month was normal.

He scrubbed himself clean with the soapberry liquid, rinsed off with the little fresh water he’d saved, and finally finished.

Once dressed, he emptied and cleaned the tub, then checked the chat—only to find it exploding with comments, the screen full of flustered, nosebleed-inducing reactions.

Jiang Ji groaned. “Come on, guys—it’s just a bath. Are you seriously this dramatic?”

【Hehehe】
【A glimpse here, a shadow there… leaves much to the imagination】
【Only the sound of water, the faint sight of pale arms—tempting indeed】

Jiang Ji: “…”

These degenerates. He didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “Pale arms? I’m a guy! What’s sexy about two tanned limbs? You people have heavy tastes. You wanna laugh me to death and inherit my system or what?”

【…】
【Wait, aren’t you only nineteen? You sound like a pro flirt】
【Hahahahaha, I’m losing it】
【Nineteen and a rich kid? No way you’re still innocent】

Still a virgin, Jiang Ji felt deeply wronged. “What’s that supposed to mean? Since when does being a rich kid automatically mean I’ve done that?!”

“Alright, alright. You guys keep saying you don’t believe my eyes are the camera, right? Fine—I’ll prove it to you.”

【You’re actually going to prove it? How?】
【Yeah, hurry up and show us】

Jiang Ji went into his mother’s room and brought out the small bronze mirror. “Watch closely—this is a bronze mirror. You can see for yourselves whether there’s any camera strapped to my head.”

He held the mirror up to his face, leaned closer to the tung-oil lamp, and adjusted the angle so the viewers could see clearly.

In the mirror appeared his slightly distorted reflection—clean face, nothing on his head but hair.

【！！】
【Holy crap! There’s really nothing there!】
【He’s actually streaming through his eyes!】
【He wasn’t lying! So… he’s really in ancient times?】
【Oh my god, this is insane!】

After dropping that bombshell, Jiang Ji didn’t bother explaining further. In the kitchen, Zhao Ru was washing Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei’s faces and wiping them down; they’d already washed their feet. Jiang Ji took the two boys outside to the toilet, then back to their room to sleep.

He’d walked so far that afternoon that he was completely exhausted, and soon drifted off.

When he woke up the next morning and glanced at the livestream, he was stunned to see that his follower count had shot up overnight—from just over seven hundred to twenty thousand.

Jiang Ji: ！

🌾🌾🌾🌾🌾

【Heard from a classmate that this streamer can make things appear out of thin air?】

【I just came to see what this “time-traveled to ancient times” title was about. How can someone act this well?】

【Was watching a movie when my roommate said the streamer’s bound to some “system”? What kind of system?】

【Scripts for short videos were one thing, but now even live streams are going this far? Damn, this plot could rival a novel.】

【Time-traveled to ancient times? For real?】

【My friend told me this guy isn’t even from our planet—or our timeline.】

【That’s insane. I’ve got to see if it’s true.】

The sudden influx of viewers told Jiang Ji that someone must’ve shared his stream link.

Beaming, he looked at his reward screen. “Thanks, everyone, for spreading the word!”

Then he announced cheerfully, “Brothers, just now we hit 100 viewers! That completed my second system task—reward: one jin of pork! The second donation item is unlocked too—go wild!”

【A reward, huh? Then show us! Make the pork appear!】
【Yeah, let’s see the pork trick!】
【Wait, is this “system” thing actually real?】
【Whoa, there really is a second donation item—it’s peanuts!】
【What the heck, this stream’s donation items are totally different from everyone else’s!】
【Rice and peanuts? Everyone else gets little hearts, planes, yachts, rockets! What’s up with that?】
【Streamer, why’s your interface so different?】

As more people poured in, Jiang Ji walked and retold his story about crossing over.

“…and as for the weird donation items, it’s because I’m using a system, you know? Like the golden-finger systems in novels! Not an ordinary livestream platform, so my interface looks different. I told you, I’m in ancient times, got a system—but you all didn’t believe me!”

【My god, I’m speechless.】
【Did he really make rice appear earlier?】
【He did! He’s still holding it!】
【Yeah, I watched it appear right in his hand. I still can’t wrap my head around it!】
【Streamer, claim that pork reward already!】
【I wanna see too!】
【Same here +1】

The chat buzzed with excitement. Jiang Ji glanced at the comments and said, “I’ll claim the pork when I get home. If I pull it out now, I’ll have to carry it myself—it’s a hassle.”

“I said I’m in ancient times, you didn’t believe me. Said I’ve got a system, still didn’t believe me. We’ve walked through how many villages now? Still not enough proof?”

【Keep going!】
【Walk more!】
【I wanna see the pork appear! Now!】
【Go on, I still think it’s a studio lot!】

Jiang Ji sighed dramatically. “Alright, guess you people won’t believe till you hit a wall. Fine, let’s go! I’ll make your jaws drop so hard you’ll hear it!”

The viewers were mischievous too—they refused to let him stick to the main path. Every time they came to a fork, they demanded he take the side road instead, purely for the unpredictability.

The narrow dirt trails between villages twisted endlessly—left, right, back again—until Jiang Ji completely lost his bearings.

“You guys better be remembering the route,” he said. “If I get lost, I’m screwed. The original owner never came this far, so I’ve got no map in my head.”

【Don’t worry, we’ll watch the replay.】
【Not gonna lie, still haven’t seen a single modern thing. Everyone’s in old-time clothes.】
【Damn, maybe this guy really is in ancient times.】

“I told you already! It’s ancient times! Believe me now? I’ve been walking for over two hours… wait, hold up—let me rest. I’m dead tired.”

He sat by the roadside, took off his shoes, and shook the dust out. “I’ve never walked this far in my life! Look at these shoes—what a mess. And I only had a palm-sized bran cake for lunch. It’s long gone. Ugh, so hungry.”

“Brothers, I can’t keep going. My head’s still injured, and it gets dark early here. I’ve gotta turn back—there might be wolves out here.”

【If it’s a film set, two hours isn’t nearly enough to see it all.】
【Why stop now?】
【Wolves? Come on, there aren’t any wolves left anywhere.】

“I told you, I’m in ancient times! No cars here, no lights. You guys just don’t get it. Anyway, I’m heading back. I’ll show you more tomorrow.”

He peeked at the viewer count—228.

Jiang Ji: !

Two hundred twenty-eight people! That meant 2 points—enough to trade for two jin of rice!

After resting a bit, he stood and started the walk back.

“Brothers, do me a favor—share the stream! The next goal’s 500 viewers!”

【You won’t show the pork, won’t keep walking, but still want us to promote you?】
【He’s done enough walking for today, give him a break.】
【Those shoes do look legit though—no way to fake that kind of wear.】
【Why’s he quiet now?】

“I’m exhausted, man. Tired, hungry, thirsty. I don’t even know if I can make it back.”

His energy drained, Jiang Ji barely spoke. He stopped at a nearby village and begged for some water.

“Brothers, toss me a few peanuts, I’m starving here.”

【Peanuts cost a full dollar though.】
【Rice costs ten cents, peanuts a dollar—what’s the next reward item, I wonder?】
【You look pitiful, fine, here’s a tip.】

A burst of effects rained across the screen—a handful of cartoon peanuts with tiny smiling faces tumbled down.

【Oh my god, even the effects are peanuts! I’m dying.】
【Different from normal livestreams, but kinda adorable.】
【If we tip pork next time, will the whole screen be filled with meat?】
【Haha, maybe a flying pig instead!】
【Why didn’t the rice have effects though?】
【It does! Just not for ten-cent ones—you need to send a dollar’s worth.】
【Wow, even the donations have class divisions now.】

“Thanks to Nan Feng, Mouthful of Dust, and Brother MadTalk! You guys are awesome!”

Several viewers had each tipped ten peanuts, and a few others sent rice or smaller combos. Jiang Ji thanked each one.

Then he asked, “2977, can I claim the peanuts now?”

【Yes.】

Jiang Ji crouched again. “Alright, brothers, didn’t you say you wanted to see another reward? Here we go—claiming the peanuts, watch closely!”

【Alright, alright, do it!】
【Quiet, everyone! I wanna see this!】
【Wait—let me turn off the chat bubbles first so they don’t block the view.】

The barrage of comments suddenly stilled—everyone waited.

Jiang Ji spread his hands, tapped the invisible interface—and in the next second, a small cloth pouch materialized in his left hand.

【！！】
【Holy shit, it’s real!】
【I swear I didn’t blink—it just appeared!】
【Oh my god! It really materialized!】

The chat exploded in disbelief.

Jiang Ji untied the pouch—inside was a handful of roasted peanuts.

【It’s actually peanuts!】
【Damn, he really has a system!】
【This has to be some kind of sorcery!】

【Is this really live? Not pre-recorded? Not edited?】

Jiang Ji got up, ignoring the comments, and started eating happily.

The peanuts were sun-dried, unroasted, unsalted—just plain, natural peanuts with a faint sweetness.

Back in his old life, Jiang Ji had never liked peanuts unless they were fried or roasted with salt. He wouldn’t even look at raw ones like these.

But right now, that light sweetness filled his mouth, warming his empty stomach in a way he’d never appreciated before.

“2977, how much is one peanut reward worth? And what about the rice?”

The system’s mechanical voice replied: 【One peanut reward equals 50 grams. One rice reward equals 5 grams.】

“Only 5 grams? That’s it?” Jiang Ji muttered.

【Wait—what did you just say, streamer?】
【And who’s 2977?】

“2977’s my system’s ID,” Jiang Ji explained. “It just told me—one peanut reward gives 50 grams, one rice reward gives only 5 grams.”

【No wonder the rice item’s so cheap—only ten cents each, and just 5 grams.】
【Actually, that’s not cheap! Do the math—500 grams would cost ten bucks! Real rice’s like four bucks a jin at most.】
【Come on, it’s a donation item, not an actual store price.】

After finishing the small handful of peanuts, Jiang Ji felt re-energized.

By the time he trudged back to the village, the sky was dark.

“Damn, I’m exhausted! Finally back!” He leaned against a big tree at the village entrance, panting.

【Why stop? Keep walking all the way home!】
【He can’t even see the road now.】
【Lost for real, haha.】
【You jinxed yourself, man.】

“Hey, that’s unfair! You’re the ones who told me to take random turns—of course I got lost!” Jiang Ji sat at the tree root. “Anyway, time to claim my rice and pork.”

He opened the system stats panel. Thanks to all the viewers’ shares, the stream had gained over 400 more views during his return trip. Including earlier traffic, total view count now stood at 776—completing his third system task.

That task’s reward was a Basic Farming Skill, but Jiang Ji wasn’t too interested in that for now.

He first claimed his second reward—a jin of pork—and saw that his total view count had converted into 7.76 points.

In the system store, 1 point could buy a jin of rice, 3 points a jin of pork, and vegetables like radishes or cabbages cost 0.3 points per jin.

Jiang Ji thought for a moment. One jin of pork wasn’t much—five people could barely split it.

So he traded for 4 jin of rice, 1 more jin of pork, and 2 white radishes—spending all his points.

He also claimed the rice and peanuts viewers had tipped—about one jin of rice and another jin of peanuts.

In front of him, several small cloth bags appeared out of thin air. Old viewers had seen this before, but new ones gasped in shock, filling the chat with excitement.

【Still crazy even after seeing it again!】
【He’s got quite the haul now.】
【Okay, I actually believe he has a system.】
【This is straight-up magic!】

Jiang Ji carried more than six jin of rice in his left hand, two jin of pork in his right, plus radishes and peanuts, heading home.

It was fully dark now. Every household had lamps lit—warm yellow light spilling from windows, smoke curling from chimneys, and the smell of dinner in the air.

“Once I get home, I won’t be able to chat much,” he told the viewers. “Just watch, okay?”

【Got it.】
【Go on, you’ve walked enough for one day.】
【It really does look ancient—every house is lived in. No way that’s staged.】
【Yeah, I’m starting to think he’s actually in ancient times.】

Jiang Ji didn’t bother explaining anymore. When he neared home, he saw two small figures waiting by the door.

“Brother! You’re back!” Jiang Nan’s voice called out from afar. In moments, the boy came running.

“Mother! Second Sister! Big Brother’s back!” Jiang Bei shouted toward the courtyard before running up too.

“Brother, you’re finally home! We were so worried.”

Jiang Nan stopped in front of him, eyeing the bags curiously. “Brother, what’s all that?”

Jiang Bei ran up beside him. “Yeah! Where’d you go this afternoon? What did you bring back?”

“You’ll see soon,” Jiang Ji said mysteriously, leading the two little rascals inside.

“Mother, Xia’er, I’m home.”

Zhao Ru and Jiang Xia were waiting at the kitchen door. Seeing him, Zhao Ru asked anxiously, “Where have you been all afternoon? You’re still injured!”

“I’m fine, Mother—just tired.” Jiang Ji lifted his arms to show the bags. “Look, Mother—I brought rice and vegetables!”

“Rice? Vegetables?”

They all stared as he set the bags on the table and opened them one by one.

Jiang Bei gasped. “It’s really rice! And so much of it!”

“Peanuts!” Jiang Xia said in delight. “And radishes!”

“Whoa, meat! There’s meat!” Jiang Nan’s eyes went wide. “We get to eat meat!”

Zhao Ru stared in shock at the food, then asked, “Xiao Ji, where did you get money for all this?”

Jiang Ji had already prepared his story on the way home. “I saw a broken carriage on the main road this afternoon. The man was hauling goods, so I helped him deliver everything. This is what he gave me as payment.”

“That’s… a lot of payment,” Zhao Ru said, still doubtful.

“He’s from a wealthy household—very generous,” Jiang Ji said without blinking. “They’re holding a banquet tomorrow, short on helpers, so the steward asked me to come. I agreed.”

Zhao Ru was convinced by his reasonable explanation. “You’re right to go. All this food is worth at least two days of wages. But your head…”

“My head’s fine, Mother. I’ll go early tomorrow.” Jiang Ji rubbed his stomach. “Mother, let’s cook rice tonight, and stir-fry the pork. That family lived pretty far—I walked for hours. I’m starving.”

At the mention of rice and stir-fried pork, Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei’s eyes lit up instantly. Even Jiang Xia, usually the most sensible and undemanding, looked at their mother with quiet anticipation.

Zhao Ru looked at the small bag of rice. “I’ve already boiled wild vegetable soup… maybe we should make porridge instead?”

That way, it would last for more meals.

They usually had nothing but wild vegetable soup at night—not even rice bran.

Jiang Ji protested, “Mother, I’ll bring back more rice tomorrow. We didn’t even eat rice at New Year’s! It’s been over two months since we last had rice or meat.”

Jiang Nan tugged her sleeve. “Mother, I want to eat rice too.”

Jiang Bei and Jiang Xia said nothing, but their hopeful eyes spoke for them.

Zhao Ru looked at her four thin-faced children and their eager expressions. Her heart softened. “Alright, tonight we’ll eat white rice and cook the meat.”

“Yay! Rice!”

“And meat! I want meat!”

Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei cheered, bouncing with excitement. Jiang Xia broke into a grin. “I’ll rinse the rice and cook it.”

“I’ll start the fire!” Jiang Bei volunteered.

Jiang Nan picked up a white radish. “Then I’ll wash the radish!”

Zhao Ru didn’t stop them. Smiling, she patted Jiang Nan’s head. “Wash it clean.”

“I know, Mother.” Jiang Nan ran off with the radish and a wooden basin.

“Xiao Ji, sit and rest,” Zhao Ru told her eldest. “Dinner will be ready soon.”

“Alright.” Jiang Ji couldn’t cook anyway. He washed his hands, drank some water, and sat near the stove to rest.

He had been walking all afternoon and was truly exhausted. Thankfully, his new body was used to labor and could still handle the strain.

As he massaged his sore calves, he looked up and saw Jiang Xia carefully saving the rice-washing water into another bowl.

“Xia’er, why are you keeping that?” he asked.

“This rice is really clean, not a speck of dust,” she replied. “We can pour the water into the wild vegetable soup tomorrow morning—it’ll make it richer.”

Jiang Ji opened his mouth, but no words came out.

Jiang Xia continued, “Brother, this must be what rich families eat. Look—no broken grains, and the aroma’s so strong! The cooked rice will definitely taste amazing.”

“Of course,” Zhao Ru said with a smile. “Everything rich families eat is refined.”

Jiang Xia set the pot on the small stove.

Jiang Bei added firewood. “I can handle it, Second Sister.”

“I’m worried you’ll make the fire too big or too small,” Jiang Xia said. “If you ruin the rice, that’d be such a waste.”

Jiang Bei thought about it and nodded. “You’re right.” He handed her the fire stick.

The little girl skillfully tended the fire. Watching her, Jiang Ji felt a pang of embarrassment—he didn’t even know how to do that.

Meanwhile, Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei stood beside their mother as she cut the meat.

A bag of peanuts still sat on the table. Jiang Nan kept glancing at it until he couldn’t resist. “Mother, can I eat one peanut?”

“Go ahead, but don’t spill them,” Zhao Ru said. “You can only eat three at most. We’ll save the rest for planting.”

“Okay.”

Jiang Ji overheard and wanted to tell her not to worry—he could get more peanuts from the system—but decided to stay quiet. Tomorrow, once he exchanged more rewards, they could eat freely without concern.

Jiang Nan carefully opened the bag and popped a peanut into his mouth.

Crunch. Crunch.

“Is it good?” Jiang Bei asked eagerly.

“Try one.” Jiang Nan handed him another. “Well?”

Jiang Bei chewed, his eyes narrowing with delight. “It’s good.”

The two brothers smiled at each other, simple and happy.

Then Jiang Nan took another peanut, ran to his mother, and offered it. “Mother, you have one too.”

Zhao Ru looked at him and chuckled. “Give it to your brother and sister.”

“You eat,” he insisted, raising his small hand. “Jiang Bei already gave some to them.”

Zhao Ru turned to check, then smiled and ate the peanut.

“Is it good, Mother?” Jiang Nan asked, face upturned.

“It’s delicious,” Zhao Ru said warmly.

Nearby, Jiang Ji and Jiang Xia were also enjoying the peanuts Jiang Bei had shared.

The twins stopped after three each, as told, and waited for the real feast.

“Xia, start the big pot,” Zhao Ru said briskly. She chopped the radish into slices, washed the meat, and cut the fat and lean parts separately.

When the fire was ready, she tossed the fat into the pot.

The sizzle of rendering fat filled the kitchen, and soon the rich aroma of pork wafted through the air.

“Smells so good~”

Jiang Nan stood by the stove, staring into the pot and swallowing hard.

Beside him, Jiang Bei sniffed the air greedily. “So good…”

Jiang Xia, tending the fire, peeked into the pot too.

Jiang Ji looked at his siblings, who hadn’t tasted meat in months, and sighed inwardly. They were so pitiful.

When the fat had crisped into golden cracklings, Zhao Ru scooped them out, saving the oil. She poured the rendered oil into a jar, left a little in the pot, and stir-fried the lean pork with salt. Half went on the table, half saved for tomorrow.

The radish stew took a bit longer. By the time it was done, the rice was ready too.

On the small wooden table sat two bowls of stir-fried pork with radish, along with a pot of wild vegetable soup.

The whole family gathered around, each with a bowl of steaming white rice.

“All right, let’s eat,” Zhao Ru said, serving everyone rice and placing a piece of meat in each child’s bowl.

Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei immediately bit into their pieces—the savory fried pork cracklings soaked in gravy filled their mouths with rich flavor.

“Mother, it’s so good!” Jiang Nan said, his eyes sparkling.

Smiling, Zhao Ru nodded and added a slice of radish to his bowl. “Eat the radish and rice too.”

“Mhm!” Jiang Nan scooped up a big mouthful of rice, followed it with a piece of radish, chewed, and said through his full mouth, “The rice and radish are so good too!”

Jiang Bei nodded in agreement. “It’s so good I could cry.”

The whole family laughed.

Zhao Ru savored a bite of white rice, swallowed, and said, “Xiao Ji, this rice tastes much better than what we grow ourselves—it’s so fragrant.”

“Maybe it’s a new variety from another region?” Jiang Xia guessed.

Zhao Ru thought for a moment. “Xiao Ji, ask that steward tomorrow where they bought it. If possible, we should try to get some of those rice seeds.”

Jiang Ji glanced at his mother—quick thinker. But this rice came from the system, modern high-grade rice, far better than anything grown in this era.

“Alright, I’ll ask tomorrow,” he said.

He truly liked this rice too: plump and glossy grains, soft and slightly sticky, smooth in texture, and fragrant beyond compare.

The system would eventually unlock seeds; with steady streaming, he could plant them later.

It was the family’s first proper meal in a long time—fluffy white rice, tender radish soaked with meat juices, and the savory aroma of fried pork.

Each of them ate two bowls. The large pot of rice was soon scraped clean, every last bit of food gone—even the gravy at the bottom was mixed with rice and eaten.

When they finished, everyone leaned back, hands on full bellies, sighing in satisfaction.

It was so delicious.

Seeing their smiling faces, Jiang Ji felt a strange rush of accomplishment—a deep, warm satisfaction.

This was the first meal he had earned for them through his own effort.

While they were eating, his livestream had been running the entire time. After the meal, he finally checked—and was stunned to see nearly 1,000 viewers watching live.

Even more shocking, the tip counter had exploded: over 12,593 rice icons and more than 600 peanuts—and still climbing.

Jiang Ji blinked. “What the… what just happened?”

🌾🌾🌾🌾🌾

Jiang Ji asked urgently, “System, is the livestream on yet?”

【My designation is No. 2977. You may address me by that.】

“Yeah, yeah, whatever—just start it already! I need to make money—no, I mean rice and pork!”

【Stream activated. As long as your eyes are open, the broadcast runs automatically. Close your eyes for more than three seconds to pause; for more than one minute to end the stream. When daily viewership reaches 100,000 views, independent broadcast control will unlock.】

Jiang Ji: “Wait—if I blink, won’t the picture freeze?”

【Blinking is too brief to affect the feed.】

“Oh… what’s this ‘independent control’ thing?”

【It allows you to start or end a broadcast at will.】

“Got it.”

A translucent screen appeared before his eyes—the livestream interface. The feed showed exactly what he was seeing: the dirt floor of the courtyard. No more system overlay.

He glanced at the viewer count: 0.

Huh? He’d been live for minutes already—why was no one watching?

After poking around, he smacked his forehead—the stream didn’t even have a title yet, just a random string of numbers.

He needed a name that would grab attention, something that made people click instantly.

After rubbing his chin in thought, he finally settled on one.

He changed the title to: 【Young Master Jiang Livestreams Ancient Life!】

Satisfied, he submitted it and sat on the doorstep, waiting for viewers.

One minute. Two minutes…

Ten minutes passed—still zero viewers.

Jiang Ji frowned. Why no audience?

Maybe the title wasn’t flashy enough?

“System, system—can we buy a spot on the front-page recommendations?”

【A front-page slot costs 1,000 points.】

Points were earned from viewership—100 views equaled 1 point, and 1 point could be exchanged for 1 jin of rice.

Right now he had 0 points. No points meant no promotion, no promotion meant no viewers, and no viewers meant no points.

A perfect dead loop.

“Can I, uh… get an advance?”

【This system does not extend credit.】

Jiang Ji’s eyes widened. “Even banks give loans!”

【This system does not extend credit. Please earn points through your own effort.】

Jiang Ji: …

Without promotion, a new streamer was buried somewhere in a digital back-corner. To get noticed, he’d have to take a more extreme approach.

First step: a more eye-catching title—bait them in first, figure out the rest later.

The last one wasn’t strong enough. He paced the yard, frowning in thought.

Five minutes later, inspiration struck.

He retitled the stream: 【Help! I Time-Traveled to Ancient Times—Send Food!】

“So shameless—begging for food outright. If CEO Jiang saw this, he’d die of rage,” he muttered.

No sooner had he finished speaking—Viewer Count: 1.

Jiang Ji: !

Someone joined!

He quickly cleared his throat. “Good afternoon, my friend! Welcome to my stream!”

The moment he spoke—Viewer Count: 0.

Jiang Ji: ?

What the—why’d they leave?!

He stared, bewildered. So the title worked, but why had they clicked off so fast?

Maybe the content? Or the angle—he’d been pointing at the ground the whole time.

Just then, another viewer entered.

No time to think—he had to keep this one!

“Brother, help! I’ve time-traveled to ancient times!” Jiang Ji dashed out of the courtyard, turning back to show his shabby thatched hut. “See this dump? I’m broke! We’re eating bran and weeds! Can you bring more people to watch the stream?”

A single question mark floated across the chat.

Jiang Ji quickly said, “You don’t believe me, right? It’s true! I’ll show you my home.”

As he walked, he kept glancing at the transparent screen showing the stream. The viewer count was still 1 — that same person hadn’t left.

He hadn’t planned any fancy content, so he decided to just be genuine. “I crossed over this morning,” he explained. “My big villa turned into a thatched hut in an instant — scared me half to death. I thought I was dreaming.”

【Came here for the title, but gotta say, bro, your set’s pretty realistic. Finding a place this run-down must’ve taken effort.】

Jiang Ji saw the message on the screen. The text was too long and cut off halfway, so he checked the comments below and read it fully.

“Brother, I swear I’m not lying. These aren’t props — we really live here. Come on, I’ll show you my mother.”

He walked to the kitchen and called out at the door, “Mother.”

Zhao Ru was doing embroidery and looked up. “What is it?”

Jiang Ji stepped closer, glanced at the cloth in her hands, and asked, “Mother, what are you embroidering?”

“Lotuses.”

Zhao Ru was almost finished. On the fabric, green lotus leaves spread out gracefully; beside them, two blossoms — one budding, one in full bloom — with a dragonfly resting on a petal. The image was vivid and lifelike.

“Mother, that’s really beautiful,” Jiang Ji said sincerely.

“You child,” Zhao Ru smiled, clearly pleased by his praise.

【Even hired an actress, huh? Not bad acting either.】

Jiang Ji: …

He walked out of the kitchen to explain. “That’s my actual mother — the mother of this body! Not an actress. I’ve got younger siblings too — come on, I’ll show you! They’re right outside.”

【Alright, I’ll bite.】

“There, see? Pulling weeds.” Jiang Ji pointed at the chive patch. “One sister, two brothers — the twins.”

“Jiang Nan! Jiang Bei!” he called out.

“Brother! You’re not resting?” Jiang Nan looked up from the field. “You should go lie down, or your head won’t heal.”

“Can’t sleep,” Jiang Ji replied.

【What’s wrong with your head?】

Jiang Ji walked a bit farther away and lowered his voice. “…The original owner died. I think I took over his body. When I arrived, I’d hit my head — there’s still a big lump back there.”

【Oh, nice story. Show us your head then.】

“Can’t do that, brother. You know how I’m streaming?”

【How?】

“Everything you’re seeing — it’s through my eyes. My eyes are the camera, so I can’t show my own head. Makes sense now?”

【Yeah right, keep talking.】

At that moment, another viewer entered the stream.

【What’s this? Why’s the camera shaking so much?】

【He says he time-traveled to ancient times and we’re seeing what his eyes see — no camera, no gear.】

【What’s that supposed to mean? His eyes are cameras? Stop joking.】

【See? I’m not the only one who doesn’t buy it.】

A third viewer joined, and Jiang Ji brightened.

He waved his hands in front of his face. “Come on, don’t doubt me! Look — both hands right here!”

【Probably strapped the camera to your head.】

“Ah, I told you, you won’t believe me anyway.” Jiang Ji glanced at the live screen. The view really didn’t look like a normal stream.

He thought for a moment. “Right — if this were a phone or a real camera, the screen would be square, right? Now look closely — what shape is the picture you’re seeing?”

【…】
【Huh?】

“What is it? Tell me — I’m curious too. What shape does it look like to you?” he asked, pretending ignorance.

【It’s curved… sometimes turns into a circle.】
【Did you cover the lens with paper or something?】

“Haven’t even seen any paper since I got here. Does the picture change? Then I’ve got no idea why — but whatever you’re seeing is what I’m actually seeing.”

【Turns round when it focuses.】
【Wait… are you really in ancient times?】

Maybe the odd visuals convinced them a bit, because their tone changed. Jiang Ji, feeling encouraged, said eagerly, “Of course! Look at those farmhouses in the distance. You think I could build a whole village of thatched huts just for a stream?”

【How can you prove it? Maybe you’re filming in a historical movie set.】
【Yeah, studios have tons of those old-style buildings.】

“That’s easy,” Jiang Ji said. “I’ll take you for a look! This isn’t the only village like this — it’s the same everywhere. You can name a direction; even a film set has its limits, right?”

【Alright, let’s go.】

“Hold on, brothers, I’ve got one condition.”

【Say it.】

“If I prove I’m really in ancient times, each of you has to bring at least ten new viewers, deal?”

【If you’re actually in ancient times, forget ten — I’ll bring fifty.】
【Same here.】

“Good! Fifty each, deal!” Jiang Ji said excitedly. Then he turned to shout toward the field, “Xia’er, I’m going out for a bit! Tell Mother I’ll be back before dark!”

Jiang Xia stood up, looking worried. “Brother, your head’s still not healed — where are you going?”

“It’s fine, don’t worry. I’ll just walk nearby.”

【What’s wrong with his head?】
【He said he hit it hard, the original guy died, and he took over the body.】
【…Writing a novel, are we?】

Jiang Ji walked toward the edge of the village, chatting with his few viewers as he went.

“It’s true. Our village is called Shanqian Village — about eighty families. See? Every house has people in it. You think I could hire this many extras?”

【Why’s it so rural then? Your production team running out of budget?】

Another viewer entered. Jiang Ji perked up instantly. “Welcome, my friend! This isn’t a film set — this is real life in ancient times!”

【?】

【He said he’s going to prove he’s really in ancient times.】

【For real? Not just a film set?】

【We’ll see soon enough.】

“Exactly, you’ll see soon enough.” Jiang Ji had already reached the entrance of the village. “Alright, brothers, left or right? If we go left, we’ll pass three more villages and reach the main road that leads to the town. To the right—well, I’ve no idea where that goes. The body’s original owner only ever went seven or eight villages that way.”

【Left】
【Right】
【I want to see what the town looks like】

“Majority rules—so today, left. Tomorrow, we’ll go right.”

Jiang Ji started down the left path, chatting as he walked about how he’d crossed over.

A new viewer joined halfway through, completely confused. The first viewer who’d entered kindly explained the whole situation again.

【You can’t seriously believe this. It’s just a gimmick for the stream.】
【I know. That’s why I’m watching—to see how he’s going to end this act.】

After about ten minutes, Jiang Ji reached another village. He walked around, showing the viewers the scene.

“See? Every house has people living in it. The fields are full of workers too. If they were all actors, imagine how much that would cost!”

Then he suddenly stopped mid-sentence, eyes brightening. “Brothers, you can understand me, right? You’re from China? Could one of you contact my father for me? His name’s Jiang Jianguo, chairman of Boyuan Group in Jing City. His number is 139XXXXXXXX. Please tell him his son Jiang Ji—‘Ji’ as in ‘lonely’—is streaming right now. Have him come watch! He’ll reward you for sure!”

【China? Never heard of it. We’re from the Aibor Alliance.】
【Our phone numbers don’t even use that kind of format.】
【Wait, what? You’re not from our country?】
【??】

Jiang Ji was stunned. “You… you’re from what country? I’ve never heard of that! My planet was called Blue Star. What’s yours?”

【Planet Aibor】
【What’s Blue Star? Never heard of it】
【Our main planet’s called Aibor, and our secondary one’s Melair】

Jiang Ji: !

Completely dumbfounded. “What the—! You’re not even from the same planet? Or the same era?!”

【!】
【Now that’s taking the story too far】
【Different planets? Wow, your imagination’s something else】

“Wait, let me ask the system.”

Right in front of the viewers, he prepared to question it. What was it called again? Something-2…?

Whatever. He called out, “Xiao Er! Xiao Er!”

No reply.

“System! System!”

【My designation is 2977.】

“Right, 2977! Tell me—these viewers, aren’t they from my original world?”

【Viewers are randomly selected.】

“Randomly selected? They’re saying they’re from Planet Aibor. Where is that?”

【Planet Aibor is a distant civilization in the universe, far from your original home planet. Its technological level is slightly more advanced than your own.】

“There really is a Planet Aibor?” Jiang Ji’s hope of contacting his father shattered. “Then how can they understand me? And how can I read their messages?”

【Automatic translation by the system.】

Jiang Ji: Got it.

【What’s he mumbling about now?】
【He says he crossed over and bound to some kind of livestream system.】
【So many layers to the story—time travel, ancient setting, system, now aliens? The streamer’s definitely writing fiction.】

Dejected, Jiang Ji explained to the viewers what he’d just learned from 2977.

【You’re really committed to the role.】
【Haha, no lie—I actually want to see how he ends this now.】
【This script’s getting wild.】

Jiang Ji sighed. “Alright, let’s keep walking. Come on, brothers—help me out, spread the word! Get more people in here. Only seven viewers right now; a crowd makes things fun!”

【Prove you’re really in ancient times first, then I’ll bring people.】

“Deal. Let’s keep going.”

As he passed through the second village, he showed them around again.

“Now tell me, with all these thatched houses and all these people, you really think they’re all actors? Look—they’re farming! Working! If this were a movie set, wouldn’t there be modern stuff somewhere?”

He gestured around. “See any modern clothes? Any cars? Phones? Cameramen? I’ve walked this far and haven’t seen a single person out of place. If this were a film lot, that’d be impossible.”

【…】
【Holy crap, there really aren’t any modern people.】
【Could it actually be ancient times?】
【No way, that’s impossible.】

Suddenly, Jiang Ji felt an urgent need to pee. He spotted an older man nearby and hurried over.

“Uncle, excuse me—where’s the toilet?”

The man looked confused. “What?”

“Uh—outhouse! Where’s the outhouse?”

“There.” The man pointed.

“Thanks, Uncle.” Jiang Ji ran toward it. “Brothers, I need to take a quick bathroom break—pause—yue!”

The moment he opened the door, the stench hit him so hard he gagged and stumbled back.

“Holy crap, that’s disgusting!”

【Dude, I’m eating right now—could you not point the camera in there?!】
【He said his eyes are the camera. You want him to take them out or what?】
【Ugh, that’s nasty.】
【Wait, that’s an actual pit latrine?!】
【I remember those from my grandma’s village when I was little—haven’t seen one in years.】

Jiang Ji didn’t care what they were saying—he really had to pee, but the smell was unbearable. No way was he going in there.

He found another outhouse. Same thing. Then another. Still just as awful.

【Streamer, please, just go behind the trees!】

【Can you pause the feed? I seriously can’t handle this anymore.】

Jiang Ji was desperate too. He glanced around—nothing but those reeking outhouses everywhere. If he went in, he’d probably pass out from the fumes.

So he turned and sprinted toward the grove nearby.

“I’m closing my eyes for three seconds to pause the stream—don’t leave, okay? I’m about to explode here!”

Three seconds later, the screen froze—but didn’t go black.

【Whoa, it really paused?】
【New here—why isn’t the image moving?】
【Streamer’s taking a leak.】
【Outdoors?】
【Bro, good thing you joined late. You missed the gross part.】
【What happened?】
【Don’t ask. Just… watch the replay later if you dare.】

After a short while, the picture moved again.

“Alright, all done! You guys still here?” Jiang Ji came out of the grove completely relaxed. “Man, ancient times are brutal. Even taking a piss is a whole ordeal.”

【What, the forest wasn’t good enough for you?】
【Honestly, I’d take a grove over those pit toilets too.】

Chatting as he walked, Jiang Ji reached the main road. “To the right’s the way to town. Left leads to another town, pretty far though. Which way do you want me to go?”

【Left】【Right】
【Left! The unexpected direction makes it feel more real.】

Left it was.

He started walking down the left-hand path.

Then 2977’s voice chimed in suddenly.

【Congratulations, host. Viewership has reached 10. First system task complete. Reward: one jin of rice. Viewer reward item unlocked: Rice.】

Jiang Ji: !

He immediately opened the system panel—sure enough, the task was marked complete.

“2977, if I click to claim the reward, will the rice appear right away?”

【Yes.】

“Will it come in something, like a bag?”

【Yes.】

Jiang Ji’s eyes lit up. “Brothers and sisters! You don’t believe I’ve got a system? Well, here’s your proof!”

【How are you gonna prove it?】
【Show us then.】

“I just finished the first mission—reward’s a jin of rice. Look! My hands are empty, right? In a second I’ll tap to claim the reward, and the rice will appear out of nowhere!”

【Haha, what is this now—teleporting props?】
【I don’t buy it. Go on, show us.】

Jiang Ji crouched down. “Don’t blink! Watch closely—”

He was trembling with excitement. He waved both hands in front of him to show they were empty, then tapped the invisible interface to claim the reward.

In the next instant, a small cloth pouch appeared in his left hand.

【!】
【Holy crap!】
【Did I just hallucinate?】
【Oh my god, it really appeared!】

Jiang Ji’s eyes lit up. He untied the pouch—inside was pure, white rice.

Finally—no more bran cakes!

“See that? It’s rice! Real rice!” he laughed triumphantly. “You saw it just now—it appeared out of thin air, didn’t it?”

【You seriously have a system?】
【This is insane.】
【Did someone throw that to you? I didn’t even blink, didn’t see anyone.】
【Can anyone explain this scientifically?!】

“It’s real!” Jiang Ji tied the bag shut and held it up proudly. “And there’s more—the first reward item is now unlocked. Come on, brothers, let’s go!”

【There really is a donation item.】
【Wait, why is the donation item… rice?】

“Ah, probably because the system saw how poor we are,” Jiang Ji said. “We can barely eat, so both the rewards and donations are rice—the thing we need most.”

【Huh, it’s cheap—ten cents a piece.】
【Alright then, take some.】

“Thanks for the donation, my good man! After walking this far, I’ve earned it! Keep ‘em coming, brothers!”

He kept walking while talking. “You don’t know what I ate at noon—bran cakes! You know what that is? The husk left after milling rice, pressed into cakes.”

“They still mill rice by hand here, not like those smooth modern machines. It’s coarse, dry—man, it choked me till I teared up… absolutely disgusting!”

【Congratulations, host. Viewership has reached 100. Second system task complete. Reward: one jin of pork. Viewer reward item unlocked: Peanuts.】

He had only been rambling for a bit when the viewer count jumped from 10 to 102—and it was still climbing fast.

Jiang Ji: !

Pork—secured!

🌾🌾🌾🌾🌾

Amid a chorus of “Hail—Hail—” Jiang Ji and the others were ushered into the hall; everyone knelt.

Jiang Ji felt a little resistant to kneeling, but when in Rome… In ancient times, failing to kneel in the magistrate’s hall was seen as great disrespect—and would get you the cane.

Not wanting to be beaten, he knelt.

Above the county yamen’s main hall hung a large plaque that read “A Clear Mirror Hangs High.” Below it sat the magistrate’s bench where the county magistrate tried cases. To the left was a desk for clerks to record the proceedings. Attendants stood on either side, their long staves thudding on the floor as they intoned “Hail.”

“The magistrate has arrived—silence!”

The attendants’ chant stopped. The county magistrate took his seat behind the desk and struck the gavel once.

“Crack!” The sound rang out sharply, as if striking the conscience of everyone present; the people in the hall flinched and fell silent.

“Who kneels below the hall, and for what matter?”

Jiang Ji looked up. The magistrate appeared to be in his forties, lean and austere, wearing his official robe with an air of authority.

“Your honor, this commoner is Jiang Ji from Shanqian Village in the western part of the county. I accuse fellow villager Li Laosan. In broad daylight he tried to seize and assault my younger sister. My sister is only thirteen—this beastly dog of a man tried to defile her. The incident happened this morning; I beg your honor to hear my full statement.”

“Speak.”

Jiang Ji then recounted the morning’s events in full. When he finished he bowed once—an imitation of what he’d seen in dramas—and said, “Please, great official, vindicate this commoner and my sister.”

The magistrate studied the young man; Jiang Ji’s eyes were clear, his speech steady, his account orderly and convincing.

“And who is Li Laosan?”

Startled by the magistrate’s gavel, Li Laosan nearly wet himself. He trembled on the ground and didn’t dare look up. “I—I am Li Laosan, commoner.”

“Lift your head.”

Li Laosan shakily raised his eyes and met the magistrate’s gaze for a moment, then quickly bowed his head again.

“Li Laosan, is what Jiang Ji says true?”

Li Laosan lay on the floor shivering; he couldn’t form his words clearly. The magistrate, seeing him stammer, raised the gavel and struck it down again.

Crack!

Li Laosan jolted.

“Li Laosan, I ask you once more: are the accusations true? Confess honestly!”

Terrified, Li Laosan shrank back, refusing to speak. Jin Hua at the rear shouted, “That’s not true, Your Honor—my son did not assault Jiang Xia!”

Smack—!

“Who spoke? Give your name.”

Jin Hua trembled. Her former swagger in the village had vanished; even her voice quavered. “I—I am Jin Hua, Li Laosan’s mother.”

“You claim Li Laosan did not assault her—were you present at the scene?”

“N—no.”

“If you were not there, why do you speak?” The magistrate looked toward Li Laosan. “I’ll give you one more chance to defend yourself.”

Li Laosan shook like a sieve. “I’m innocent—this commoner is wrong—please, Your Honor, spare me.”

Jiang Ji immediately said, “Your Honor, my sister has marks from his grip on her wrist; his right wrist bears a bite mark from my sister; and Aunt Xiufang heard my sister’s cries for help.”

Jin Hua shouted back, “The bite mark is from him biting himself! The marks on Xia’er are from Jiang Ji grabbing her, not my son!”

The magistrate was not so easily fooled. The attendants checked the evidence one by one, then Aunt Xiufang and other villagers were summoned to the hall to testify. In the end the facts were clear.

“Li Laosan, do you have anything more to say?”

Li Laosan’s face went ashen. After the magistrate’s final pressure he confessed fully: “I—I was wrong. Please, Your Honor, have mercy…”

When the hearing concluded, the magistrate announced the ruling on the spot: “In the case of Jiang Ji of Shanqian Village accusing fellow villager Li Laosan of attempted assault upon his sister Jiang Xia—after on-the-spot examination, the evidence is conclusive and without doubt. According to the laws of our realm, I hereby sentence: Li Laosan of Shanqian Village—attempted assault upon Jiang Xia, punish with one hundred strokes of the bamboo and exile three thousand li.”

“As for his mother Jin Hua, for failing to properly teach her child, flouting the laws of the realm, and willfully deceiving the court—drag her away and administer ten strokes of the board as a warning to others.”

“Court dismissed!”

The magistrate’s sentence had barely fallen when Li Laosan went white and wet himself in fear; Jin Hua burst into tears, crying that she’d been wronged, but the constables had already dragged her away for punishment.

Jiang Ji helped Jiang Xia and Zhao Ru to their feet, and together with the village chief they watched as Jin Hua and Li Laosan were taken off.

When they left the yamen, the village chief and the others wiped sweat from their foreheads. The county magistrate’s authority was terrifying; it was everyone’s first time in court, and they were still shaken.

“One hundred strokes—Li Laosan might not survive that.”

“He deserved it. He once even set his eyes on my daughter.”

“And Jin Hua got ten strokes herself—serves her right!” Aunt Xiufang grabbed Zhao Ru’s hand. “Let’s see if they dare bully anyone again.”

Zhao Ru still felt a lingering chill but couldn’t help feeling satisfied. “Yes, evil meets its own end.”

Aunt Xiufang looked at Jiang Ji admiringly. “Never would’ve guessed—quiet little Ji turned out so brave when it mattered!”

Jiang Ji rubbed his head. “Auntie, don’t tease me.”

Jiang Xia stood beside her brother, feeling safe and at ease.

“Alright, that’s enough—everyone head home,” the village chief said, waving for the crowd to disperse.

Zhao Ru stepped forward to thank him. “Thank you, Village Chief. Thank you, everyone.”

“No need to thank us,” the chief replied. “You were right. He needed to be taught a lesson, or this village would never have peace.”

They all returned to the village. The trial had gone quickly; it was only just past noon. Everyone went home for lunch.

Zhao Ru and Jiang Xia busied themselves cooking, while the twins, Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei, clung to Jiang Ji, begging him to tell them what it was like in court. They were too young—Zhao Ru hadn’t allowed them to go and had asked a neighbor to watch them instead.

Sitting by the doorway, Jiang Ji told them the whole story.

The two boys listened with shining eyes, firing off questions: What did the magistrate look like? What was the court like? Were the officers really that fierce?

Jiang Ji answered them one by one.

Before long, lunch was ready. Zhao Ru called everyone to eat.

Because it was winter and no one in the countryside could afford coal, most families ate by the stove to keep warm.

Jiang Ji went inside. A small pot sat on the hearth, bubbling and steaming.

Beside it was a low table. Jiang Nan had already curled up beside the fire, warming himself and waiting eagerly for food.

Zhao Ru lifted the lid, and a cloud of steam filled the room. She deftly picked up the steamed cakes from the white cloth and placed them in a big bowl.

Jiang Ji leaned over to look. They were palm-sized, brownish cakes mixed with bits of green vegetables.

“What’s this?” he asked curiously.

Everyone turned to look at him. Jiang Nan stood up. “It’s bran cakes, brother—did you forget?”

Bran cakes? Jiang Ji had never even heard of such a thing.

He rubbed his nose awkwardly. “Oh, right—bran cakes. Just slipped my mind for a second.”

Zhao Ru set the cakes on the table and said worriedly, “After we eat, we’ll find a doctor to check your head—make sure you didn’t hurt it badly.”

Jiang Ji quickly said, “No need—it’ll be fine in a few days.”

“No, we’ll have it checked. Eat first.”

Looking at her face—so much like his mother’s—he nodded. “Alright.”

The kitchen was much warmer than outside thanks to the fire, though a bit smoky.

Jiang Ji sat on a small stool and stretched his hands toward the flames.

Zhao Ru brought the little table to the center. The family gathered around. In the pot was wild-vegetable soup; Zhao Ru ladled a bowl for each of them. The bran cakes were the main course.

“Eat. They’re fresh out of the pot—be careful, they’re hot,” Zhao Ru said, placing one cake into each twin’s bowl.

“Got it, mother,” the brothers chorused, then began eating seriously.

Jiang Nan took a big bite, yelped from the heat, and puffed out his cheeks, hissing.

Jiang Bei laughed. “Mother told you it was hot. You had to rush—burned yourself, didn’t you?”

When the food in his mouth cooled a bit, Jiang Nan swallowed it whole. “I was hungry!”

Zhao Ru said gently, “Eat slower.”

“Okay, mother.” Chastened, Jiang Nan blew on the cake and took small bites, then commented, “Today’s wild veggies aren’t as bitter as yesterday’s.”

Jiang Ji watched them eat, a little dazed.

Just a few bran cakes and a bowl of wild-vegetable soup?

That was it?

“Xiao Ji, what’s wrong? Does your head hurt too much to eat?” Zhao Ru asked when she saw him sitting there motionless. (T/N: Xiao = little/endearing term)

“…No, I’ll eat.”

Jiang Ji shook his head. From the memories of this body, he recalled that before the new year Zhao Ru had caught a cold that turned into a high fever. The village doctor couldn’t cure it, so the original Jiang Ji had taken her to town.

The medicine had been expensive. With little money left, he’d sold their stored grain and even all the cabbages and radishes from their field to pay for it—saving Zhao Ru’s life but leaving her weak and still coughing.

Now, the family had almost nothing left to eat except the coarse rice bran from old husks—no more radishes or cabbages, not even grain.

Jiang Ji was actually starving. He picked up a bran cake and took a bite, chewed twice, then frowned and spat it out.

It was coarse, hard, dry, with a bitter aftertaste from the wild greens.

Was this even edible?!

His reaction drew everyone’s eyes again.

“What’s wrong? Can’t you eat? Does your head hurt worse?” Zhao Ru asked anxiously.

Jiang Ji frowned. It really was inedible—but seeing their worried faces, he couldn’t say that. He mumbled, “No… it’s just too hot.”

Zhao Ru smiled gently. “Then eat slowly.”

Jiang Ji nodded, tried a sip of the soup—it was bitter, barely salty, and had no trace of oil.

He forced down a mouthful, but it was hard to swallow. His stomach rumbled loudly; the body’s owner had eaten only a bowl of wild-vegetable soup that morning and gone through so much since. He was starving.

Looking around the table, Jiang Ji saw Zhao Ru’s sallow, frail face and the children’s thin, bony frames—their hair dry and yellow, their height stunted. The signs of long-term malnutrition were painfully clear.

Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei were only six years old—an age when children were usually the pickiest eaters. Yet the two calmly ate their bran cakes and wild vegetables without even frowning. When crumbs fell on the table, they picked them up and ate them too.

Watching Zhao Ru and Jiang Xia, whose faces so closely resembled his own mother and sister, Jiang Ji’s nose stung; his heart felt heavy.

Their life was far too bitter.

His stomach growled again, hunger twisting painfully inside him.

There was nothing else to eat at home. Whether this meal, the next, or the one after that—it would still be bran cakes and wild vegetables.

Afraid of passing out from low blood sugar, Jiang Ji took a deep breath and silently picked up a bran cake for another bite.

God, it was awful—coarse, dry, and bitter. Even though the rice bran had been ground as fine as possible, it was still hard to swallow.

His eyes burned. His chest ached. Still, he forced himself to chew and swallow a little at a time, brow furrowed.

He thought about the meals he’d had before crossing over—spotted grouper, giant lobster, A5 wagyu beef—and his eyes nearly filled with tears.

Was this Heaven’s way of sending him to some ancient “life transformation” show?

Using the wild-vegetable soup to wash it down, Jiang Ji finally choked down one whole bran cake.

【Ding——】

【“Farmers weeding at noon, sweat drips onto the soil below. Who knows, in the bowl of food, every grain is won with toil.” Congratulations, Mr. Jiang Ji. You have become the 89,989th host of the Farming System. Unit No. 2977 is honored to serve you.】

Jiang Ji: ??

System?

What system?

【Identity binding complete. Background data loading… estimated time: 60 minutes. Please wait patiently, Host.】

Jiang Ji: !

Could this be one of those systems from novels?

He sat up straight, suddenly energized. If so, he’d just landed himself a golden cheat!

Usually, systems like this let you earn skills or items by completing missions. That meant maybe—just maybe—there was hope ahead.

He just didn’t know what kind of system he had yet.

An hour. In one hour, he’d find out!

His earlier gloom vanished, replaced by excitement.

Jiang Xia blinked up at him with her big round eyes. Why was her brother’s mood swinging so much today? Sad one moment, happy the next.

With food and warm soup in his stomach, Jiang Ji finally felt a little better—though still only half full. The heat from the soup spread through his body, but then his pinky fingers began to itch.

He looked down and saw they were red and swollen.

He froze. Could that be… frostbite?

Young Master Jiang, raised in silk and luxury, had never even seen frostbite before. Curious, he touched it—it itched terribly. He scratched.

“Brother, don’t scratch. It’ll be hard to heal if it breaks,” Jiang Bei warned.

Jiang Ji looked at the boy’s small dark hands, covered with frostbite marks. Jiang Nan’s were the same.

All from the cold.

Jiang Ji sighed and glanced at his own hands—rough, the palms thick with calluses, marks of long, hard labor.

He sighed inwardly. His once smooth, elegant hands—gone just like that.

Wait. He suddenly froze, then reached up to touch his face. No pimples—but definitely not smooth either.

He looked down at Jiang Bei. “Am I dark?”

Jiang Bei blinked, not understanding why his brother would ask that, but he answered honestly. “You’re lighter now. Winter makes you paler.”

“…” Jiang Ji looked at the twins’ dark little faces. If this was “paler,” then his idea of “white” must have been a whole different concept.

Right, he hadn’t actually seen what this body looked like yet.

He recalled that his mother had a small bronze mirror—it was part of her wedding dowry.

“Mo—” Jiang Ji almost said “Mom,” then quickly corrected himself. “…Mother.”

The word made his throat tighten, and his chest filled with a strange warmth. It really felt like his mother had come back to life.

He thought to himself: I have a mother again.

“Hm?” Zhao Ru was washing dishes in the pot. She looked up. “What is it?”

Jiang Ji smiled slightly. “I want to check my head—can I use your little bronze mirror?”

“Go ahead. It’s in the room.”

Jiang Ji went inside.

Zhao Ru and Jiang Xia shared a room. Against the wall stood a small, old dressing table, bought when Zhao Ru married.

The bronze mirror lay face down on the tabletop.

Jiang Ji picked it up and peered into it. The reflection was warped, making his face look like a monster’s.

Jiang Ji: …

Still, he could make out the general shape—this body looked quite a lot like his original one.

Same name, same face—maybe that was why he’d ended up here.

Soon after, Jiang Nan came home with a doctor. The doctor checked Jiang Ji’s pulse and prescribed several packets of medicine for swelling and bruises.

“Mother, we shouldn’t waste money on this,” Jiang Ji said.

“No. Don’t you remember? Head injuries can’t be ignored. Last year, someone from the next village hit his head, thought it was nothing, didn’t see a doctor—and died.”

Jiang Ji blinked. The memory surfaced—it was true.

Right. This was ancient times, when even a cold could be fatal. With medicine and treatment so poor, a head injury could easily be deadly if there was bleeding inside.

He said no more.

Zhao Ru began boiling the medicine, and Jiang Ji stepped outside.

It was early spring, still cold and damp.

His hands were freezing. With no pockets in these old-fashioned clothes, he tucked them into his sleeves and leaned against the courtyard gate, looking out over the village.

The place was called Shanqian Village, home to more than eighty families—a fairly large settlement, mainly of two clans: the Jiangs and the Lis, the Lis being more numerous.

Looking around, he saw mostly wooden and thatched houses. Only two or three were brick and tile. In front of them stretched wide fields, where a few people worked the land.

Then he spotted Jiang Xia in a nearby field, pulling weeds.

That girl was truly hardworking—she’d barely finished lunch and was already out tending the crops.

Jiang Ji walked over. According to the memories in his head, this little patch of land was planted with chives. They had been harvested once before the new year, and now fresh green shoots had just started growing—about the same height as the weeds beside them.

He crouched down to help pull the weeds.

“Brother, you’re still hurt. Go rest, I’ll do it,” Jiang Xia said when she saw him. “I’ll finish soon.”

“It’s fine,” Jiang Ji replied casually. In truth, he was thinking about that system, waiting to see what it really was.

When she realized he wouldn’t listen, Jiang Xia said nothing more. Her small hands moved quickly, deftly plucking weeds and picking out the edible wild greens to toss into a little basket nearby.

This small chive patch was all the family had left. In another month, once it grew tall enough to harvest, they could sell it for a bit of bran money.

“Ah—Brother, why are you pulling up the chives?” Jiang Xia glanced over and noticed that he’d just uprooted a few.

“Huh?” Jiang Ji looked at the handful of green stalks in his hand. “I didn’t pull chives.”

Weren’t they all just grass?

Jiang Xia plucked two green stalks from his hand. “Look.”

Jiang Ji looked at the chives in her hand, then back at the grass in his: …

They looked exactly the same. Practically no difference!

But he didn’t argue. The real Jiang Ji would never have mistaken chives for weeds.

“Oh, I didn’t notice. Must’ve pulled the wrong one,” he said, making an excuse.

Jiang Xia placed the chives back into the basket without a word and quietly picked out the edible greens from the pile of weeds he had pulled.

After a while, Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei came running over.

“Big Brother, Second Sister, we’re here too!” Jiang Bei squatted next to him. Before he even started, he exclaimed, “Big Brother, you pulled up the chives!”

Jiang Ji: ?

He looked at the handful of bright green stalks. “Where?”

Jiang Bei fished one out from the weeds beside him. “You even pulled it out by the roots!”

“…” Jiang Ji blinked at the nearly identical stalks of chive and weed. “…Then plant it back.”

And Jiang Bei actually dug a little hole and replanted it carefully.

Jiang Ji looked over the patch—both weeds and chives were about the same lush green, ten or twelve centimeters tall. The weeds growing between the rows he could manage to pull, but the ones tangled among the chives? He really couldn’t tell them apart.

And there were several kinds of weeds—some looked exactly like chives. After squinting and comparing for a while, he concluded: maybe chive leaves were thicker? Roots a little whiter?

“Brother, you pulled another one,” Jiang Xia said anxiously, seeing more chives in his hand. “Brother, are you sure your head’s alright? Maybe your eyes were hurt?”

Jiang Ji: …

Struck down again and again, Jiang Ji gave up. He tossed the grass aside, clapped the dirt from his hands, and stood.

“You guys pull them. I’m going back!”

Chives, weeds—whatever! Let whoever wants to pull them, pull them!

Was this even a human life?

He, Young Master Jiang, had never suffered like this!

He stormed off without looking back.

The three siblings stared after him blankly.

Jiang Nan whispered, “What’s wrong with Brother? He’s never pulled up chives before.”

Jiang Bei murmured, “Maybe he really did hurt his head.”

All three looked worriedly at their big brother’s retreating figure.

Jiang Ji, fuming, went home. He washed his hands at the doorway and sat by the stove to warm himself.

Zhao Ru was sitting nearby, tending the boiling medicine while doing embroidery. Her stitching was skillful—she usually embroidered handkerchiefs to sell in town for a bit of extra money.

Seeing his sour expression, Zhao Ru asked, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Jiang Ji muttered.

He just felt… defeated. Even six-year-old Jiang Nan and Jiang Bei could tell chives from weeds, and he couldn’t.

Zhao Ru, still weak, coughed lightly. “Does your head still hurt?”

“A little. It’s fine,” Jiang Ji said, then frowned. “You’ve been coughing for so long—it can hurt your lungs. Why don’t you go to the town clinic?”

Zhao Ru waved it off. “No need. Once it’s warmer, I’ll be fine.”

Jiang Ji stared into the fire, lost in thought. He had to think of a way to make money—or soon they wouldn’t even be able to afford bran, let alone medicine.

This was what poverty looked like.

But how could he make money?

If there was any trade that brought quick returns, it was food. As long as you had skill, you’d never lack customers.

But Young Master Jiang had never even washed rice before.

Clothing, food, housing, travel—he thought carefully about what skills he actually had.

Jiang Ji: …

Nineteen years alive, and now, for the first time, he realized—he only knew how to eat, drink, play, and enjoy life. Not a single money-making skill.

Utterly useless.

He couldn’t even tell chives from weeds.

Jiang Ji sighed deeply.

How was he supposed to make money?

No skills, no capital—what a headache!

【System data loaded. The Farming System is now active. The host may begin using it.】

Jiang Ji: !

Right—the system!

“You…”

Zhao Ru looked up. “What is it?”

“Nothing. I’m just going out for a bit, Mother.”

He hurried out into the yard and whispered, “You—what kind of system are you exactly? Explain yourself.”

【This system’s real name is “Plow and Harvest.” It is a live-broadcast system, named after the poem Toiling Farmers. Its purpose is to let the user personally experience the hardship of the working people—through diligent labor and self-reliance, to achieve abundance, and to improve the living standards of people in this world, bringing benefit to all.】

Jiang Ji: …

“Self-reliance and hard work?” he repeated, stunned. “So I really am here for some kind of life-transformation program?!”

【If you wish to interpret it that way, that is acceptable.】

“…Was it you people who brought me here?” Jiang Ji snapped. “Send me back right now!”

【The host has already died in the original world. Returning will not bring you back to life. Are you sure you wish to return?】

“…” Jiang Ji immediately changed his tune. “Never mind. Forget I said that.”

So he really couldn’t go back—he’d have to live here.

He stayed silent for a moment, digesting that fact, then frowned. “How’s this ‘live broadcast system’ supposed to stream anything? There’s no phone here.”

【The host’s eyes serve as the camera. Everything the host sees will be broadcast live to the audience in real time. The host can earn system rewards and viewer donations. Accumulated points may be used in the system shop for exchanges.】

Suddenly, a translucent screen appeared before Jiang Ji’s eyes, displaying the Plow and Harvest Live System interface and usage guide.

After reading it, his spirits lifted instantly.

The system tasks were simple:
If viewership reached 10 people, he’d receive a reward of one jin (half a kilogram) of rice—and unlock the donation item “Rice.”
At 100 viewers, he’d earn one jin of pork and unlock “Peanuts.”
At 500 viewers, he’d gain the “Basic Farming Skill” and unlock “Instant Noodles.”

As viewership continued to grow, there would be even more rewards—vegetables, seeds, farming tools, medicines, various goods, and skills—all waiting to be unlocked.

Moreover, the daily viewer count would automatically convert into points redeemable in the system shop.

Rice!

Pork!

Instant noodles!

Just seeing those words made his stomach growl. Jiang Ji was momentarily stunned at himself.

Who would’ve thought—a former rich young master—reduced to drooling at the thought of rice and pork?

He couldn’t even remember the last time this body had eaten real white rice or meat.

But that didn’t matter. Soon, he’d have food again!

His eyes lit up, his spirit rekindled.

So it was just live streaming, right?!

He set himself a small goal: By tonight, the family’s going to eat white rice!

🌾🌾🌾🌾🌾