Chapter 1: Prologue

Prologue

Liaodong.

"I can't go on."

The vast white earth before him and the skyful of swirling snow merged into one. Huang Shi trudged forward, one deep step and one shallow, his staff bouncing unsteadily. Only by straining both hands with all his might could he keep it under control and stop it from slipping away. The freezing wind made it nearly impossible for Huang Shi to keep his eyes open, but he urged himself to hold on — a village would soon emerge from behind the white curtain before him.

"I'm done for..."

A faceful of thick, heavy snow came rushing at him. Huang Shi's eyelids slowly fell, cutting off the scene. When only pitch-blackness remained, he felt the soft earth cradle his body, and the coolness spreading across his face seemed to carry away all the exhaustion from his burning frame in an instant.

"Mom, Dad," before leaving home, Huang Shi was sitting at the dinner table eating with his parents, his mouth still stuffed with food: "I'm going out with a few friends tonight, won't be back for dinner."

A baffling explosion, white light — truly blinding white light. To this day, Huang Shi still had no idea whether that dead-drunk guy he met in the tavern was an alien or a time traveler. In any case, that thing in the guy's hand, which he claimed could send people to other universes, inexplicably exploded, and now here he was in the Ming Dynasty.

"...The stars in the sky are divided into different constellations, and every person has a constellation watching over them..." Huang Shi spoke eloquently, fiddling with a sheet of paper in his hands, on which the stars were wrapped in patterns. Seeing that his host was no longer sitting ramrod straight, he was greatly encouraged and smoothed the paper out with more force.

"Hmm, interesting. Someone, give this gentleman ten wen."

"Thank you, Master." After carefully tucking the money into his bosom, Huang Shi folded the paper into a neat square and pressed down hard on its creases.

As he walked out the door, Huang Shi turned back to thank the old family servant who had seen him out. The old man waved a lazy hand and was about to go back inside. Perhaps because of his age, he stumbled on the doorstep. Quick-eyed and deft-handed, Huang Shi hurriedly steadied him, smiling as he said: "Uncle, you must be careful."

The old man did not thank him. Instead, he paused in thought, shook off Huang Shi's arm, and said to him sternly: "Young man, while you are still young, you should go do some proper work. That way you won't bring shame upon your ancestors and parents."

The smile froze on Huang Shi's face. He bowed deeply, all the way to the ground: "Thank you for your guidance, elder. This humble one is grateful."

"Elder, please spare a mouthful of food."

The man who had been stopped cast a cold glance at the beggar's frame and walked on without a word.

"Uncle, please spare a mouthful of food."

Seeing that the passerby had stopped in his tracks, Huang Shi rallied his spirits and repeated himself, desperately squeezing out a smile at the man before him. The other man smiled back at him, then turned and left. With no time to put away his smiling face, Huang Shi shuffled forward on his knees a few more steps and begged another passerby.

Squatting in a corner, Huang Shi was eating a chicken he had stolen. His arms were bruised purple and blue, and beneath his clothes there were surely marks left by the watchdog goose. His disheveled hair already covered his eyebrows, and his bare calves were covered in welts and blisters.

"A barefoot doctor, I have no beard, and no wealthy household would let someone in these clothes through the door. If not for all the vaccines in my body, I'm afraid I would have long since collapsed and never gotten up again."

"Without a travel permit, no place will take me. I can't be a tutor. I can also keep accounts, I can use an abacus — just give me two meals a day and a place to stay, that's all I need."

"Are you sure?" The man asking raised his eyebrows, his tone pitched high.

"I'm willing to put in the labor, but I won't sell myself." Though the clothes on his body were so tattered they might fall off at any moment, and though his cheeks were deeply sunken, Huang Shi spoke these words with full, vigorous breath.

"Suit yourself. Next."

Hearing those words, he could only turn and leave.

"Hey, fellow, there's some leftovers out back. Do you want them?"

Hearing these words, Huang Shi immediately turned around and kowtowed: "May you live a hundred years, Uncle."

"You're a strange one, all right — would rather be a beggar." The steward cursed him with a laugh. His wife had just borne him a son, so he figured he'd use the master's leftovers to earn a bit of good karma for his boy.

"Every free man is the king of himself."

After that last glimmer of light went out, Huang Shi's world dissolved completely into nothingness.

Snowflakes drifted down onto his body, and the wooden staff in his hand had fallen to one side. The wind ceaselessly whitened this frame, slowly merging it into the surrounding world. In the first month of the forty-sixth year of the Wanli reign, in Liaodong, the Liu River at Guangning was already wrapped in silver.

An old quilt covered the person lying on the bed, with a worn-out mattress pad added over the lower half of his body. The face of the person lying there was exposed, as pale as a dead fish.

The patient let out a groan and, with all his strength, pulled his eyelids open a crack.

"Are you awake?"

A crisp voice seemed to come from somewhere far away. Huang Shi's eyelids fell heavily once more, and he sank back into darkness...

"Are you awake?"

This time the voice sounded right by his ear. Without even the strength to lift a single finger, Huang Shi could not turn his head either. He opened his mouth to ask a question, but only produced some hoarse, rasping breaths. Then he felt some liquid being poured in. Though he could not taste it, he knew it was definitely not water. Before sinking into slumber once more, he managed to grasp only one thing — I'm still alive...

His eyes could open wide now, and the pain from all over his body immediately surged in. Huang Shi rolled his eyes around a few times. A very shabby bed began to creak as his arm shifted. The quilt beneath his nose gave off a sour smell, but it was not very pungent. As he turned his neck, a figure of about fifteen appeared before him. Huang Shi blinked, trying to see more clearly.

A very delicate-looking boy was meeting his gaze, dark pupils staring at him without a flicker — pointed chin, high nose bridge, and the hair on his forehead even had a slight curl to it.

The child watched him for a moment, then ran off: "I'll go get your medicine."

This was a small room, apparently the front hall of the whole house.

After bringing the medicine over, the child began to feed him. "My father picked you up out of the snow. My mother brewed this medicine for you."

"Thank you." Though the ancients said that great kindness defies words of thanks, at this moment Huang Shi truly did not know what else to say.

"The quilt you're sleeping under is mine," the child said with the proud tone of a benefactor.

"Thank you." This time Huang Shi offered his thanks with a hint of a smile.

"I'll go call Mother."

Not long after, Huang Shi, who had been straining to lift his head, saw a woman step over the threshold, her hands still rubbing against her apron. She soon reached the bedside and gazed into Huang Shi's eyes for a long while — bright eyes without the slightest turbidity. She let out a breath: "Young man, where are you from?"

"I am from Kaiyuan, wandering to this place. Many thanks for saving my life, Auntie."

Meeting Huang Shi's unwavering gaze, the woman said: "Young man, rest for now."

"Auntie, my body is fine. No need to brew medicine for me anymore — just hot water will do." After arriving in this era, he had worked as a barefoot doctor for a couple of days, so he had some understanding of the price of medicine. Besides, future medical knowledge said: no herbal medicine works for pneumonia, and if it's not pneumonia, boiled water and vitamins are enough. The woman sighed and left without a word.

After noon, an old man and two young men returned. They also came to see Huang Shi. Their clothing revealed their status — military households of the Great Ming. Clearly they had just come back from drill.

Over the following days, Huang Shi was given some congee and pickled vegetables every day. The child also brought a bowl of medicine each day, eagerly waiting until Huang Shi had finished drinking it, then would pull over a stool and sit down to listen to stories. Although talking for long stretches left Huang Shi, who had just recovered from a serious illness, feeling very fatigued, he felt this was the only way he could express his gratitude at present.