Chapter 1: Young Master, It

“Young Master, it’s time to take your medicine.”

A crisp, sweet voice echoed outside a study in a two-story house on Zishih Street in Yanggu County.

“Jinlian, didn’t I tell you?”

“Don’t say it like that when I take my medicine.”

A slightly exasperated reply came from within the study.

“Creak.”

The girl called Jinlian pushed open the door, carrying a medicine pot still steaming with heat.

“Hehe, but haven’t I always called you Young Master?”

As she stepped into the study, Jinlian spoke with an innocent tone.

“You!”

A boy sat behind the desk in the study,

holding a book with slightly yellowed pages, his expression a mix of exasperation and fondness.

He knew that, in this world, he was likely the only one who understood the joke of “Dalang, take your medicine.”

What else could he expect? He was a transmigrator who had inexplicably come from the 21st century.

The boy was tall and slender; though not strikingly handsome, he carried a certain grace,

but the pallor on his face gave him an unmistakable air of frailty.

“First, take your medicine.”

The girl hurried to the boy’s side, gently taking the book away,

then skillfully picked up a porcelain bowl from the tea set on the desk to hold the medicine.

“Here, take it.”

From the porcelain bowl, half-filled with a darkish medicinal decoction,

she scooped up a spoonful with care and gently offered it to the boy’s lips.

“Jinlian, I can do this myself—you don’t have to go through so much trouble.”

The boy spoke, reaching out to take the medicine bowl from the girl named Jinlian.

“If you hadn’t helped me back then, I don’t know where I might have been sold.”

“And you’ve always been kind to me—I’m happy to serve you for the rest of my life.”

Jinlian’s eyes, clear as water, brimmed with admiration as she looked at the boy,

and without pause, she continued to gently offer the spoon to his lips.

Hearing her words, the boy fell into memory.

He had once been an ordinary, unremarkable soul of the 21st century.

Born into an ordinary family, one of countless common households,

but fortunately, his parents, grandparents, and other elders had all been loving,

granting him a humble yet genuinely happy childhood.

After entering school, his academic performance was unremarkable.

As he grew older, his appearance remained unremarkable,

far from the dazzling good looks he’d once dreamed of, like Yan Zu or Tian Le.

With unremarkable grades, he entered an unremarkable university,

and after spending several unremarkable years there, he returned home and took an unremarkable job.

Just as he was preparing to live out his unremarkable life in peace, an accident occurred:

One late night, while lying in bed playing with his phone, preparing to spend some personal time (staying up late),

a massive truck—out of nowhere—turned him into a two-dimensional character.

The only thing he found fortunate was that the truck had been incredibly efficient,

and since he wasn’t some athlete capable of punching through missiles or wrestling steel coils,

he passed away swiftly, without feeling any pain.

What puzzled him was how that truck had even reached his fourth-floor bedroom?

Could it be that this truck was the very one from the advertisement he’d seen as a child,

the one that soared into the sky amid the slogan “Racing Across the World, Dayun Motors,”

and smashed the distant relative of the cosmic serpent Jörmungandr into dust?

Zhang Jie:

A phone’s lifespan is three to five years; a human’s is seventy to one hundred.

To a phone, you are its entire life—even though to you, it’s just a small passing thing.

So put down your distractions, and spend more time with your phone.

Don’t let your little phone live a life without love or companionship…

Just as Zhang Jie believed his unremarkable life was about to end,

he found himself inexplicably in a warm, confined space.

Having read many anime and novels in his spare time, he vaguely recognized this place—it was the legendary mother’s womb.

Unfortunately, he wasn’t some immortal or great sorcerer reincarnated, nor did he possess divine arts or magic,

otherwise he might have tried to cultivate the legendary prenatal primordial breath body.

After all, many transmigrators had laid the foundation for unprecedented greatness this way,

rising against heaven, punching celestial emperors, kicking demonic gods, becoming utterly invincible, laughing…

Heaven: Who the hell did I offend? Why does everyone want to defy heaven?

With his mother’s cries of pain, he was born, beginning his second life.

Unfortunately, a child’s brain simply isn’t developed enough to hold his vast memories,

and for his first dozen years, he remained dazed, nearly unconscious.

It wasn’t until he heard a name he recognized that he fully awakened.

The owner of that name was his favorite Ming dynasty literary work,

one of the two masterpieces of Ming urban life—

one of the central figures shared by “Jin Ping Mei” and “Water Margin.”

Of course, not the one who indulged in daily revelry and schemed to steal wives and wealth—Ximen Qing, the Great Lord Ximen.

But the other protagonist—the one synonymous with the term “seductive woman”—Pan Jinlian.

At the time, Pan Jinlian’s tailor father had died, and her mother sold her to the Zhang household.

And this boy, humble as he was, was the only son of the Zhang household.

Upon recognizing Pan Jinlian, the boy took the initiative to claim her for himself, making her his personal maid.

The boy was the Zhang household’s only son, born when his father was over fifty,

cherished as if held in his palm for fear of dropping him, kept in his mouth for fear of melting him—

if he asked for the stars in the sky, his father would find a way to grant it.

Now he merely wanted a maid—how could his father refuse?

As for the boy’s surname and given name?

In this life, he was the son of the Zhang household, so naturally his surname was Zhang.

The Zhang household hoped his son would become a dragon,

but the boy’s spirit—perhaps too powerful from his two lives—had overwhelmed his flesh,

leaving him frail and sickly from birth; thus, his father dared not give him a grand name,

like Hao or Long, fearing the child couldn’t bear the weight and would invite disaster.

After consulting with several monks, Daoists, feng shui masters, and even shamans,

they settled on the simple character “Jie,” hoping he might one day become a peerless talent.

For some reason, this name matched exactly the name he had before transmigration!

Since then, Pan Jinlian had been Zhang Jie’s personal maid—for five years now.

The once thin girl had blossomed into a graceful beauty, radiating the aura of a beauty who brings calamity.

Zhang Jie recalled as he opened his mouth, letting Pan Jinlian feed him the medicine.

Zhang Jie, recalling these memories, opened his mouth as Pan Jinlian fed him the medicine.

“Jinlian, I need to review my books a while longer—you may go now.”

Since birth, he had always been frail and sickly, raised almost entirely on medicine.

After swallowing bitter decoctions for over a decade, he’d grown used to them.

Even this was only possible because he was born into the Zhang household, which owned thousands of acres of land,

dozens of shops, and several merchant caravans.

Over the years, he had practically eaten ginseng, deer antler, and cordyceps like rice.

Had he been born into an ordinary family, under the productivity of Song Dynasty as depicted in “Water Margin,” he would have died in infancy.

As for why Zhang Jie judged this world to be “Water Margin” and not “Jin Ping Mei”?

Because he discovered this world contained not only Pan Jinlian and Ximen Qing, the Great Lord Ximen,

but also Song Jiang, known as “The Timely Rain,” “The Righteous Protector,” and “The Filial, Righteous Black Third Brother,”

No, it’s Song Jiang, Song Gongming…

Although Zhang Jie despised this Song Heizi, whose official robe was stained red with the blood of his own brothers and sisters,

he still marveled at Song Jiang’s ability to cultivate prestige—it was utterly terrifying.

At the time, he had intended to confirm the world’s identity, so he asked his household’s martial instructor who the prominent figures in the jianghu were.

The instructor, who had traveled the north and south and had only met Song Gongming once, spoke of the Hu Bao Yi with boundless admiration,

as if he longed to hold Song’s horse and carry his stirrup.

From then on, Zhang Jie confirmed that the world he had transmigrated into was Water Margin,

also known as The Story of One Hundred and Five Men and Three Women…

And Zhang Jie’s next thought was:

If this is the world of Water Margin, with the One Hundred and Eight Stars of Heaven and Earth,

could Ximen Daguanren be ranked as the Star of Lust?