Chapter 1: A Crutch and a Bowl

Dawn light and thin mist, morning clouds and light dew, a March day in the mortal world.

Gushan County, just awakened, was wrapped in a pale red mist, tinged with a faint saltiness carried by the sea breeze.

Gushan County was not large, divided into east and west cities; the west was poor and the east rich, separated by a Fang Market.

In the west city there were only the poor and the poorer; the poorest slum, left empty by last year's plague, had become a temporary refuge for wretches like Fang Xiu.

At dawn, the sound of knocking—thud, thud, thud—came from the mottled stone slabs of the small alley.

Fang Xiu walked with a broken wooden stick, limping, frowning and gritting his teeth, like a reluctant worker heading out early in the morning.

Having transmigrated for over a month, Fang Xiu, who felt he knew Gushan City quite well, endured the pain in his left leg and headed east, where good business could be found.

The east city was full of great households; the masters were still sleeping soundly, but the rear side gates were busy every morning, the narrow back alleys full of night-soil carts, carrying poles for delivering vegetables, servants yawning, carrying and lifting, coming and going.

With Fang Xiu's adult mindset, this kind of place was absolutely where he could beg for food, even if it was all leftover rice, the master's cold scraps after being picked over layer by layer by the servants, leaving not a single shred of meat, just vegetable leaves and mixed rice, but at least there was some oil to be had.

As long as he was pitiful enough, sweet-tongued enough, and clever enough, meeting a fat cook or a soft-hearted young lady, he could always get some food.

This was called precisely positioning the target demographic.

Begging required effort; Fang Xiu had made full preparations. The original owner's fine clothes had to be removed and replaced with Mo Laodao's rags, and with his current appearance of a child just turned ten and a left leg that could barely walk, he was pitiful enough.

But there were too many pitiful people; he needed enough core value. The rags had to be as odorless as possible, his face had to be washed white, matching the original owner's tender and cute little face. Only then would the fat cook be interested in pinching Fang Xiu, and in his confused gaze, happily take a few liberties.

This move gave users enough emotional value and improved user experience.

In his previous life, Fang Xiu's forty-plus years of life experience and work experience were all put to use in begging.

Never think transmigrators are omnipotent and slaughter in all directions; a ten-year-old with a broken leg must first be able to survive, to beg, and not freeze.

The county town was not large, but from east to west Fang Xiu had walked for half an hour. Just as he approached the target group, he frowned, narrowed his nostrils, and covered his nose at a stench coming from at least a hundred meters away in a small alley.

One could imagine that a cart carrying excrement buckets had overturned, spilling filth all over the ground.

Fang Xiu decisively turned into another alley, keeping his distance. If he stepped on even a bit of it or got the stench on himself, those young ladies, no matter how soft-hearted, and Fang Xiu, no matter how cute, would cover their faces and leave.

After stumbling a few steps, he heard a fierce quarrel in the distance; two women were cursing each other with all sorts of filthy language, and soon they would surely be pulling hair and tearing clothes. One of the voices was very familiar to Fang Xiu—it was the fat cook who had given him half a steamed cake yesterday and then shoved her big fat hand into his collar and groped him hard.

Fang Xiu shook his head. It seemed today's start was not going well. He turned into another side path to avoid this household. There would be no gain from this fat cook today; a woman who had just thrown a tantrum had no mood for taking liberties and might even vent her anger on Fang Xiu.

Being able to sense every movement within a hundred meters was one of the changes after Fang Xiu's transmigration. His five senses had become extremely sharp; he could easily see the patterns on a fly's wing and even hear the sounds of groundhogs mating underground.

There was also an unknown object hidden in his consciousness, silent and soundless. Fang Xiu suspected it was his golden finger, but no matter how he summoned it, there was no response.

Based on his five senses, Fang Xiu quickly planned the remaining business route. The only one guaranteed to yield results was the Zhao family to the north.

When he reached the Zhao family's rear courtyard, a round-faced young lady was already waiting there, holding a bowl containing two leftover steamed cakes still bearing tooth marks and already rotting vegetable leaves. Seeing Fang Xiu, the round-faced young lady hurriedly waved her hand.

"Little Fang Xiu, why didn't A Ku come today?"

There were many fat cook young ladies here, and Fang Xiu's favorite was this round-faced one. She never took liberties, had no arrogance when giving alms to others, smiled with curved eyes, and always prepared some leftover rice whenever she saw Fang Xiu.

"Sister, A Ku caught a wind-cold and is recuperating at home. I'll bring her to see you in a few days."

The round-faced young lady sighed and poured the leftover rice into Fang Xiu's broken bowl.

"A Ku is very bitter. You must take good care of her. The master was not home yesterday, and there wasn't much leftover rice. Come again tomorrow; I'll make some congee for A Ku."

After leaving the Zhao family, the remaining few great households yielded nothing. Fang Xiu shook his head and walked back. The pain at the site of his broken left leg intensified, but A Ku had not eaten a single grain of rice this morning. No matter what, Fang Xiu did not want A Ku to go hungry.

Without A Ku, this mere six-year-old girl, even if Fang Xiu had transmigrated, he would be nothing more than a skeleton by the roadside.

These days, Fang Xiu had been slowly merging the original owner's memories. At first, he only knew that the original owner's leg had been broken, then he was transported by boat to the shore and discarded on the beach like trash. He struggled to crawl forward bit by bit, but then encountered a freezing rain, and finally his vision went black, with no more sensation.

It was Mo Laodao and A Ku who happened to pass by. Mo Laodao did not want to get involved, but A Ku discovered that the original owner still had a little warmth in his chest and insisted on saving Fang Xiu. Helpless, Mo Laodao tied some branches together, placed the original owner on them, and dragged him back to Gushan County step by step.

In the following days, A Ku took care of him, and with Mo Laodao knowing a bit of medical arts and gathering some herbs outside, they managed to save his life.

However, the person who opened his eyes and regained consciousness was no longer the original owner, but Fang Xiu, a forty-plus-year-old greasy middle-aged man from the 21st century.

Every time he thought of this, Fang Xiu couldn't help but retort. Who would have thought that he went to a mountain city for tourism, hid in a hotel because it was hot, ate watermelon while picking his feet, and was taken away by a cement truck crashing through the wall? That was the eighth floor!

Fang Xiu had lain on the hay in the ruined house for less than a month before going out to beg with A Ku. The reason was naturally that Mo Laodao did not support idlers.

He could not bear to rely on the frail A Ku to beg for food every day to support him. In his previous life, he was mediocre and accomplished nothing, but at least he was a grateful person.

As for begging, Fang Xiu's psychological pressure was not that great. For a man in his forties, his bottom line could actually be very low, including feigning ignorance while enduring the fat cook's rough big hands.

But whenever he thought of his misfortune and the bone-piercing pain in his left leg, Fang Xiu couldn't help but curse in a low voice.

"Huang Yaoshi, your grandfather!"

New book release. This time it's tentatively a multiverse flow, with the first story being The Legend of the Condor Heroes, but who knows, I might end up writing just a standalone Condor Heroes fanfiction as I go. See how it develops.

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(Chapter End)