Chapter 1: Living in Turbulent Times

Great Qian Dynasty, Central Prefecture, Wangjiang Cheng.

Starting at midnight, a dense winter snow fell continuously throughout the night.

The heaven‑covering great snow suddenly arrived and fell upon the ruined walls of Wangjiang Cheng, and the bitter, bone‑chilling cold wind blowing on the face could easily cause fine cracks.

Jiang Xiaomu exhaled a puff of breath, turned his head and glanced at the tall city walls of Wangjiang Cheng.

The towering walls were lofty, covered in frost, making him marvel at the ancients' wisdom; the towering walls tens of zhang high had endured the baptism of ages—how did the ancients build them successfully?

But after his thoughts turned full circle, he withdrew his gaze and continued his manual work.

Jiang Xiaomu was sharpening his knife.

A broken knife mottled with rust, even if thrown into deep mountains and old forests probably no one would spare it a second glance, but Jiang Xiaomu treasured it like a priceless gem, sharpening it carefully with every stroke.

The mottled rust gradually faded away, revealing a freshly polished, bright blade.

Jiang Xiaomu knew very well that this broken knife was his confidence to keep surviving in this messed‑up chaotic world.

Suddenly, "Brother, I'm hungry…"

The sister Xiao Lüzhu, wrapped in a rag on his back, woke up, pushing his back with her mouth missing half a front tooth.

"Wait a bit longer, we'll eat when it gets dark, Xiao Lüzhu, be obedient."

Jiang Xiaomu warily looked around, then rubbed his hands, which had swollen and turned bright red from an overreaction after contacting water, and couldn't help comforting her.

The city gates have been closed for over half a month, and the fat‑headed officials in Wangjiang Cheng still have no intention of opening the gates; the number of refugees gathered outside Wangjiang Cheng has already exceeded tens of thousands.

Even in many places the tragedy of eating each other's children has occurred; in this turbulent autumn, relying only on his broken knife he has no confidence to protect Xiao Lüzhu among the refugees whose eyes are red with hunger.

Hearing this, Xiao Lüzhu nodded as if half‑understanding, her little head lifted with tear tracks, her voice choked with sobs.

"Brother, I miss Father and Mother."

Jiang Xiaomu opened his mouth, then suddenly fell silent.

Even though he is a modern transmigrator, Jiang Xiaomu doesn't know how to tell Xiao Lüzhu this cruel fact. They have no home; their parents died horribly in the massacre after the northern barbarians broke through the border pass.

To be frank, even Jiang Xiaomu doesn't know why, after merely resting awhile in the library and opening his eyes, the world had been turned upside down. A dynasty on the verge of collapse was about to fragment; the chaotic world was like weeds, and the former Great Qian Dynasty, which had stood for over four hundred years, had once personally kept the northern barbarians outside Hulao Pass.

And that pass, touted as the Number One Pass under Heaven, actually failed to hold out for even half a month before being declared breached.

The northern barbarians' iron cavalry swept southward, grazing their horses on the Central Plains, so that blood soaked the thousand‑li plains; from then on, families were destroyed and people died, destined to wander homeless.

But right now, Jiang Xiaomu has no spare energy to ponder these thankless, troublesome matters.

He comfortingly patted Xiao Lüzhu's back, then hung the sharpened firewood knife at the most conspicuous spot on his waist, staring fiercely at the restless refugees around them.

Even eating each other's children is possible; tender‑skinned children are even more the object of every refugee's greedy eyes.

The phrase "two‑legged sheep" might have been just three casual words in a history book to Jiang Xiaomu before, but now it is happening right before his eyes, a fact he cannot accept no matter what.

"Jiang family child, how's your consideration going?"

"We old fellows don't have the leisure to waste words on you, kid; yesterday I gave you a day to think, and now that the time's up you must give us a satisfactory answer."

A voice suddenly rang out.

Jiang Xiaomu's heart jolted; he instinctively gripped the knife at his waist, turned his head, and saw a scar‑faced leprous idler squatting where they had settled, looking up at them.

This idler wore a tattered coat, his chest open, he squinted and smirked as he looked at the Jiang siblings, his eyes flashing with cat‑toying‑with‑a‑mouse amusement.

"No need to say more, Cui Lao San—I won't sell my sister."

Jiang Xiaomu instinctively straightened his body and gritted his teeth.

"You damned bastard, you little brat, let me give you a bit of color to see if you don't want to live."

Cui Lao San's face darkened; he snorted and stood up, the three or five ruffians behind him also rising, directly surrounding Jiang Xiaomu: "Jiang surname, the price I offered is high enough—a sack of rice husks can buy a pure‑and‑clean girl; exchanging her for you, sir, is no loss."

Furthermore, I'm not one of those starving‑eyed refugees; if your sister follows me, she'll enjoy blessings in Wangjiang Cheng at the Spring Beauty Pavilion—no ordinary person can get in. There she'll eat well and drink spicy, living a god‑like life like my grandmother's.

Hearing this, Jiang Xiaomu's eyes turned cold.

He naturally knew what Cui Lao San was scheming; this fellow was originally a ruffian loitering in the marketplaces, and now, with refugees everywhere, royal law had long been forgotten where it was written.

Cui Lao San had rescued a bunch of market‑riffraff idlers, secretly engaging in male theft and female prostitution, trading in children.

"God‑like days?"

"Damn those god‑like days; even if Jiang Xiaomu were utterly miserable, he would never let his own sister step into the brothel's pit of fire to be abused by everyone."

"I won't sell!"

Jiang Xiaomu drew a deep breath, and the veins on the back of his hand gripping the broken knife bulged out.

"You're asking for death, you bastard!"

Cui Lao San's face turned cold, and he became utterly gloomy.

That fellow waved his hand, and the ruffians who had come with him to show strength instantly gave a sinister laugh and stepped forward toward the Jiang siblings; one idler gave a sinister laugh and reached out from behind, not believing a sixteen‑ or seventeen‑year‑old half‑grown kid could have much guts—but he never expected his hand to not yet have touched the hemp cloth behind Jiang Xiaomu.

Jiang Xiaomu suddenly turned, the hand gripping the broken knife swinging down to slash at the opponent's head and face; with this strike he exerted all his strength, the knuckles of his grip whitening.

The idler couldn't dodge in time, felt a pain in his arm, and immediately his palm snapped off, blood spraying out.

"Let's see who dares!"

Jiang Xiaomu stared death‑locked at Cui Lao San and his party, the ruthlessness in his eyes nearly overflowing.

He was never a soft‑hearted saint; in this day and age, nobody understands better than Jiang Xiaomu the principle that without ruthlessness one cannot stand firm—this strike was a ruthless hand.

"You!"

Cui Lao San's eyes nearly burst from their sockets; he never expected Jiang Xiaomu's strike to be lethal.

"What about it? Cui Lao San, others fear you, but I, surnamed Jiang, do not."

"My life is worthless; barefoot I fear no one in shoes—if you have the guts, come try my Jiang Xiaomu's knife, sharp or not!" Jiang Xiaomu gritted his teeth, gripped the knife, and stepped forward.

Just that step—who would have thought it would frighten Cui Lao San and his lot into retreating a few steps in unison.

Nobody could have imagined that a sixteen‑ or seventeen‑year‑old milk‑baby would actually commit murder; if that blade had struck him, Cui Lao San would have shuddered and felt a chill despite the warmth.

"You little brat, you've got guts—I'm not going to play a life‑or‑death game with you."

"Don't blame me for not warning you—your sister is the one the East City matchmaker has singled out; if you have the ability to play rough and tumble with me, I'll see whether you can survive until tomorrow."