Chapter 1: Hard to Live, Hard to Live!

Great Shun, Jianghuai Marshlands, Yixing Market.

The polished bluestone slabs reflected the moonlight like a mirror; withered leaves fell, yet they did not pile up, drifting and spinning across the ground.

The wind surged from the ten-thousand-mile river surface, flowed away through the open spaces of the rooftops, and leaked in wisps through the door cracks.

As if the weeds had been stirred by the wind, twisting and standing tall, inside the earthen-walled house, the deathly silent youth began to show signs of life again.

Hungry!

So hungry!

Liang Qu opened his eyes, his gaze unfocused; he only felt his stomach twisting like a knife, curled into a ball on the bed board.

"Liang Qu, he's also called Liang Qu? Mother died in difficult labor, father died of a cold last month—what kind of standard opening is this? Only one boat, one room..."

"No, the boat was snatched away by others too, Scabby Zhang bullied me for being young... Damn, that thing looks disgusting, a toad spirit?"

Enduring the hunger to digest the fragmented memories, Liang Qu felt dazed.

Jianghuai Marshlands, supporting thousands of fishermen, and he had actually become one of these small fishermen?

Yellowish sewage, ear-piercing sirens, nasal mucosa burning like fire, the huge bright spots cast by high-intensity flashlights on the water surface.

It wasn't a dream.

He had truly drowned while trying to save someone...

That's right, working overtime through the night to finish a draft, where would he have the energy to save someone? He jumped into the water and transmigrated clearly and thoroughly.

"Pity I don't have children, otherwise I'd definitely get extra points for the college entrance exam, winning at the starting line."

Liang Qu collapsed on the bed, feeling the exhaustion rising from the deepest part of his heart, as if the traces of the past twenty-plus years were like autumn leaves falling, never having existed at all.

Nothing gained, nothing liked, nothing achieved.

Life is truly meaningless.

Rumble.

Alright, it still has meaning; this is just too damn hungry.

Hunger drove Liang Qu to survive; the transmigration had cured his high-degree nearsightedness, like wiping away a layer of water mist, making everything around him exceptionally clear. Yet, looking around, there was only one bed, one stove, and one empty jar.

The dead memories attacked again.

"Get lost, get lost, jinx, still want to borrow grain? My family's six kids aren't even full."

"You also know, the autumn tax is coming soon..."

No, find some water first.

The stomach pain constantly stimulated his brain nerves; Liang Qu bared his teeth, moved off the bed board, and struggled to support himself against the yellow earthen wall, swaying as he reached the outdoors. But after only a few steps, he was panting heavily and had to sit on the threshold to rest.

"This is too weak."

Liang Qu's head broke out in cold sweat, his palms unable to even open; he couldn't believe the weakness of his body. Could it be that he would die again just after arriving?

Icy fear seemed to grip his heart like a giant hand.

The idea that one isn't afraid of death after dying once is all fake; the human fear of death is carved into the genes.

Clatter-clatter.

Wheel hubs pressed against the bluestone bricks, making a distinctive sound.

Someone!

His heart almost jumped out of his throat.

"Don't bother, go around..."

"Bad luck, don't get entangled by a starving ghost..."

He couldn't hear clearly what the few carters were discussing, only hearing the sound of the wheels moving away.

The words reached his lips but were swallowed back; the darkness of the street was endless, and Liang Qu only felt a chill rising from the bottom of his heart, his blood gradually turning cold.

He wanted to find a well, but he no longer had the strength to take a step.

"A-Shui, why are you sitting here?"

A-Shui, who? Me?

Turning his eyes to look, a dark-skinned man stood beside him. Liang Qu blurted out: "Uncle Chen?"

Memory told him the man in front of him was named Chen Qingjiang, his neighbor.

That's right, I am A-Shui.

The names in both lives were the same, just because the character 'Qu' contained water, the villagers called him A-Shui.

Liang Qu caught his breath; the scene just now made him too lazy to ask for help, so he said with a wry smile: "I'm tired from walking, sitting down to rest. What about you, Uncle Chen?"

"Just came back from selling fish in town."

」

"Town?"

"Yeah, fish are fat these days and easy to sell, definitely have to go to town. It's a loss to sell to the fish stall, and I didn't rent their boat, so I sell to whoever I want. But you, perfectly fine, why are you sitting at the door resting? Not afraid of catching a cold?"

Chen Qingjiang curiously leaned closer, and upon seeing that withered appearance, he was shocked.

How could it be like this?

In his shock, he suddenly remembered that Liang Qu had already lost his father, fearing that the household had long since run out of grain. He subconsciously reached toward his chest, but then hesitated.

There was a sesame seed cake there, which he had walked over ten miles to bring his fish catch to the city to earn an extra eight coins to buy for his youngest son, who had been crying loudly, to have a taste.

The sky was already dark, the cake was still warm in his chest, and now he was about to give it to someone else—to say he didn't feel the pinch would be a lie.

"Daddy, why doesn't Brother Shui come to play with me anymore?"

"Because Brother Shui's daddy has left, he has no time to play with you."

"Why did he leave?"

"..."

Chen Shun was Chen Qingjiang's eldest son, only six years old, and usually loved playing with Liang Qu the most.

Chen Qingjiang thought of when he was ten-plus years old; Liang Qu was the same age as his own child and also liked to find him to play. In his daze, the figures seemed to overlap.

Sigh...

Chen Qingjiang took the sesame seed cake from his chest and unwrapped the oil paper.

"A-Shui, eat quickly."

"Uncle Chen! This?"

Liang Qu's Adam's apple bobbed; he had thought it was another dead end, but unexpectedly, a lifeline appeared in the blink of an eye. He wanted to say something, but the rich aroma of wheat was truly tempting, causing his trembling hands to take it himself.

His chapped lips bled; the metallic taste mixed with the aroma of wheat and oil, and he stuffed it all into his mouth.

The little remaining saliva was squeezed out, mixing with the cake, sliding into his stomach. Liang Qu swallowed a few times, gained some strength, and hurriedly thanked him.

"Eat, eat and go home quickly, don't sway at the door."

"Mmm..."

Chen Qingjiang brushed off his pant legs and left, but his mood was even heavier.

If it's like this now, won't it be even harder when winter comes? Should he discuss with A-Di to spare a few catties of grain? But Er-Bao just saw a doctor recently, can they spare any?

Straw sandals rubbed against the muddy road, moving further and further away.

"Phew, so fragrant!"

Liang Qu finished the last bite of the cake, looking at Chen Qingjiang's back, unable to call out.

In recent years, there had been peace and no disasters; one shi of rice was about one thousand coins.

Uncle Chen's family had five mouths—one old, two young, and one wife. In one season, they needed at least four shi of rice, totaling thirty-three coins a day just for rice and grain.

Fishing in spring and autumn, farming in summer and fighting in winter—in autumn, when the grass is lush and fish are fat, Uncle Chen's daily income was roughly eighty coins. It sounded okay, but in reality, it was far from enough.

Cloth, salt, and vegetables all cost money; fishing taxes were even worse than agricultural taxes. Besides that, there were various miscellaneous fees. Not to mention the far ones, the docking fee at the pier alone was two coins a day, and during the flood season, it was even four coins. In winter, income plummeted, and if one got sick during that time...

Even a single sesame seed cake was likely something Chen Qingjiang had squeezed out with great difficulty to bring to his child, yet now it had become his life-saving grace.

Truly, a friend in need is a friend indeed.

The night sky was filled with brilliant, shining stars.

How could a smoggy small city have such a beautiful scene? Because of this, it reminded him every moment—this was a completely different world.

Liang Qu leaned against the wall, loneliness surging like a tide. Now, he didn't know how to fish and had no source of livelihood.

He couldn't figure out how he would live, and he couldn't shamelessly shout words of gratitude.

As for selling modern technology for money... that was also difficult.

A rough scan of the empty street showed many houses with stepped horse-head gables, typically with walls higher than the eaves.

This meant the current era's productivity had developed to a certain degree, enough for brick and stone structures to replace ancient rammed-earth structures. Eaves no longer needed to extend out to block rain and protect walls, eventually becoming fire-blocking wall structures higher than the eaves to prevent the spread of fire.

Being able to popularize brick and stone structures meant Great Shun's productivity was at least equivalent to the Ming and Qing dynasties of his previous life.

The original body was the bottom of the bottom, having never seen good things, but Liang Qu knew that white sugar, refined salt, horseshoes, steelmaking, and soap basically had nothing to do with him.

Furthermore, this world was not simple; in his memory, there was a fierce person in the neighboring town who could punch through granite as tall as a person—definitely not an ordinary person.

But even if it had something to do with him, it was useless.

Why did the ancients love sons? Just look at the snatched boat to know that without a strong laborer in the family, one could truly be bullied to death.

If a boat was like this, what would happen if he saved up cash?

Survival for an ancient orphan was as hard as ascending to heaven; if not sold by others, it was just waiting for death.

Damn it, why is it a fisherman opening, and a fisherman whose boat was snatched? A farmer would have been better!

Hard, hard, hard!

Just at this moment, a vast, long breath suddenly pierced through Liang Qu's mind, countless memories rolling like eating a whole pack of peppermint candies in summer, cool to the core.

Damn, damn, damn, what's the situation?

Liang Qu was at a loss.

Fortunately, the feeling came quickly and went quickly. When the strangeness in his mind gradually ceased, it was as if the clouds had dispersed and he saw the blue sky again.

A large tripod with a strange shape appeared in his sea of consciousness, endless mysterious patterns intertwined, leaving him dumbfounded.

Its name—Ze Ding! ===== CHAPTER 2 =====