Chapter 1: Worthless As Straw
Xiao Yi woke up from the darkness.
The last scene in his memory was the deafening roar of that explosion scene. He, as the martial double, had just completed an extreme maneuver and was instantly engulfed in flames.
But what was the situation before him? Had he taken on a new role? It looked like a period drama.
Such real snow.
Snowflakes landed on his forehead, and the wind seeped into his collar, chilling him to the bone.
A whistle stick lay on the stone steps before him. At the end of the steps stood a weapon rack. Snow covered the courtyard, and an old plum tree’s gnarled branches stretched out. Snow covered the eaves above, and a hexagonal pavilion was faintly visible in the distance.
Shifting his gaze to the other side, he saw that the swirling ashes came from a brazier under the eaves. A boy with a portly physique was squatting by the brazier, burning paper money and mumbling to himself.
“Today, I burn money… lots of money, wishing for my disciple’s merit to grow and for good deeds to be rewarded.”
His opulent brocade robe was stretched taut and bulging. His demeanor was timid and shrinking, and his expression had a greasy, vulgar quality, like someone who had just devoured a large bowl of fatty meat and was afraid of being discovered.
The boy looked up and saw Xiao Yi’s eyes open. He was startled and forgot to drop the paper money in his hand.
“Hiss, so hot, so hot… Y-you, how are you alive?!”
Xiao Yi sat up, holding his aching head, and thought, “It’s rare to have lines this time.”
He had no recollection of what happened in between, so he could only say, “I think I’ve blacked out. Is there a script?”
“Huh?”
The brocade-robed boy plopped down onto the ground, muttering, “Is it a zombie? I burned so much for nothing. Did I burn too much and buy my life back?”
These lines were a bit difficult to respond to… No, Xiao Yi looked down at himself. A coarse, blue robe wrapped around a very young body.
He was not himself.
It was as if his soul had transmigrated to another world.
He staggered to his feet and reached out, feeling the slight warmth of the brazier, which was somewhat comforting.
His hand then brushed past the floating ash, and he gripped the plump, sagging cheek of the brocade-robed boy. The sensation on his fingertips was incredibly real.
“Ahhh! Don’t pinch me, let go, let go!”
“Where is this?”
“Huh? Where? Isn’t this my home? Are you still Xiao Yi?”
“I am Xiao Yi.”
“You’re still Xiao Yi? That’s good, you scared me to death.”
“Who are you?”
“Me? I am the current Acting Grand Tutor, Chancellor of the Imperial Secretariat, Military Governor of Guide Army, Commander of the Imperial Bodyguard (infantry and cavalry), and Patrol Inspector of the Capital City… Hmm, I forget the rest. In short, I am the second son of Father, Shi Deyuan.”
“What dynasty and period is this? Where and when?”
“Third year of Qianyou of Han, Tokyo, Kaifeng Prefecture.”
Xiao Yi frowned and murmured, “Han? Kaifeng? Tokyo?”
“That’s right. Xijing is Luoyang, Tokyo is Kaifeng. I know that much. Don’t ask any more questions, or I won’t be able to answer.”
“Isn’t Xijing Chang’an, and Luoyang the Eastern Capital?”
“Is it? Did I forget again? Never mind such trivial matters.”
The conversation abruptly stopped.
After a while, Shi Deyuan couldn’t stand the silence and poked Xiao Yi in the chest with his finger.
“Are you really not dead?”
“I’m not dead,” Xiao Yi forced out an explanation. “I’ve lost my memory, I don’t remember many things.”
Shi Deyuan let out a long sigh and patted his chest. “I knew it. I wasn’t scared at all.”
Xiao Yi’s head still throbbed intermittently. He closed his eyes to compose himself and said, “I forgot how I fainted.”
Shi Deyuan lowered his head, chuckled slyly, and whispered a sentence.
“Of course, it was because I hit you.”
“You? Why?”
Suddenly,
“Whoosh—”
A whistle stick, whistling through the air, slammed down towards Xiao Yi’s head.
The blow was fierce and merciless.
Xiao Yi instinctively dodged, and the whistle stick struck the ground, kicking up snow.
“Don’t move,” Shi Deyuan yelled. “Stand still and let me kill you.”
“Why?”
“Your life isn’t worth much.”
Another blow fell. A crooked plum branch was “clacked” and snapped, scattering plum blossoms like blood across the ground, which was soon trampled into a mess.
Xiao Yi was not hit by the whistle stick, but Shi Deyuan’s light remark, “Your life isn’t worth much,” struck him like a thunderclap.
He didn’t know how much his life, lost in the explosion, was worth, but he realized that in this era, Shi Deyuan wouldn’t have to compensate a single copper coin for killing him. The pile of paper money was the compensation.
The whistle stick swept horizontally, like a scythe cutting grass, swinging towards his head.
At the critical moment of his life, a flash of inspiration struck Xiao Yi. He suddenly realized which dynasty he was in—the Later Han.
The Later Han of the Five Dynasties and Ten Kingdoms, a chaotic era where human lives were as cheap as grass.
“Ouch!”
A scream of pain echoed through the courtyard.
The whistle stick flew from Shi Deyuan’s hand. Xiao Yi snatched it and whipped the white wax wood pole like a snake towards Shi Deyuan’s ankle, the sound like cracking walnuts.
“Ah!”
Shi Deyuan turned to flee, his injured foot faltering, and he rolled down the stone steps like a ball.
Looking up again, he saw the whistle stick descending, aimed directly at his skull. Terrified, a warmth spread between his legs as fear poured out.
“Second Young Master!”
A figure suddenly darted from the courtyard gate.
A thick arm intercepted the blow, emitting a muffled “thump.”
The newcomer was a burly, bearded man, likely two meters tall, broad-shouldered and stout, with a fierce face and piercing eyes. He was not dressed as a servant but wore a suit of light leather armor.
After saving Shi Deyuan, the fierce man snatched the stick and simultaneously delivered a lightning-fast kick.
“A disloyal slave harming his master, die!”
A shout erupted, carrying a heavy scent of blood.
Killing intent washed over Xiao Yi. He sensed that the fierce man before him must have killed many people.
He had never dealt with such battlefield life-or-death attacks, especially not in this tender young body. He instinctively felt he wouldn’t be able to withstand it.
But Xiao Yi had spent his life in the most dangerous professions, and his innate adventurous spirit wouldn’t let him sit back and wait for death. He instantly counter-attacked, attempting a body slam and a chokehold on the fierce man.
“Damn it!”
The fierce man had never seen such a technique and was momentarily stunned, almost subdued. He cursed and drew his saber.
“Quick, kill him… Wait, don’t kill him,” Shi Deyuan scrambled aside and shouted. “Zhang Mantun, I told you not to kill him.”
“A rebellious mongrel who bites its master when enraged, why wouldn’t Second Young Master kill him?!”
“He’s a bream.”
“What?”
“Stop fighting, both of you, stop fighting. Xiao Yi, let go, don’t move, or he’ll kill you. Zhang Mantun, come here… Come, bend down.”
The fight ceased. Xiao Yi, panting, remained on high alert. He saw Shi Deyuan desperately pulling Zhang Mantun’s tall body down, his face a mixture of fear and excitement as he eagerly began to speak.
Xiao Yi listened intently, his eyes fixed on Shi Deyuan’s lips, and vaguely sensed what he said.
“He’s changed…”
Then, Zhang Mantun’s eyes, like copper bells, widened. His anger turned to astonishment, then to a ridiculous, disbelieving amusement.
Seeing them babbling seriously, Xiao Yi slowly walked over.
The height difference between the two was immense, and their voices were quite loud.
“The Zen Master said that the mansion has too much karmic debt from killing, so I burned paper money, a lot, a whole lot of paper money.”
“I said, it’s really smoky in this courtyard. Second Young Master didn’t happen to roast the Eldest Young Master’s Golden-Crowned Finch with paper money, did he? We searched the whole courtyard for a long time.”
“Shh, listen to me. Xiao Yi must have given money to the deities below. Look at his eyes, once you’ve seen a deity, you’re different. His martial arts improved instantly. Unlike you teaching me, you’ve taught me for so long and I still can’t learn it. Don’t think I don’t know you’re telling Father I’m too stupid. I know you’re not smart, so I don’t argue with you. But I’ve been learning martial arts for so long, and it’s not as good as Xiao Yi using money, and it’s using my money. If you want to kill him, are you stupid? Aren’t you?”
“Second Young Master, I think he’s usually letting you win. Today, he’s gotten bold and is serious. Once I twist his head off, I’ll cure his malady.”
“Nonsense. I’ve figured it out. Father wants me to succeed, and I can’t rely on you. I need to know how to give money to deities to become as accomplished as him.”
“Accomplished like this?”
“You don’t understand. As long as you know how to use money, there’s nothing you can’t achieve. This is the way of the world, whether in heaven or earth, human or ghost.”
“Let him go? Oh my god! If you’re not strict with subordinates, they’ll rebel!”
“Use him and then kill him. I’ll have a way then… Ah!” Shi Deyuan was enthusiastically speaking when he suddenly noticed Xiao Yi standing behind him and jumped in fright. “You, you were eavesdropping? How could you do that?!”
Zhang Mantun shrugged indifferently. “So what if he heard? Anyway, this useless scoundrel who can’t even light a stove will surely die today.”
“Why?”
Just then, a servant in green clothes hurried to the courtyard gate and said, “Master is returning to the manor. He’s calling Second Young Master to the main hall.”
Instantly, Shi Deyuan’s face turned pale.
He was clearly terrified of his father. He stammered, and after a long while, managed to utter a trembling sentence.
“Wh-what should I do?”
“Second Young Master will be punished.”
Zhang Mantun was also exasperated, with nowhere to vent his frustration. Seeing Xiao Yi looking as if it had nothing to do with him, he snapped, “What are you looking at me for? Even if I don’t kill you, you’ll die anyway. Marshal said that Second Young Master’s martial arts haven’t improved. I’ll be whipped twenty times, and all the servants in the courtyard will be killed!”
“On what grounds?” Xiao Yi retorted.
“Asking? A servant who’s just a sparring partner, and you’re asking questions!”
The words, laced with unconscious disdain, struck Xiao Yi to the core.
He looked around. High walls and deep courtyards, distinct ramparts, like layers upon layers of prisons.
He suddenly wanted to ask himself: to be a double for others in his previous life, and a sparring partner in this life, a servant whose life could be taken without even the right to ask a question, should he live like this?
Accept fate and wait for death? Or find another way to live?
A sigh of pent-up frustration escaped his chest, dissipating into the early winter snow of the Later Han.
Xiao Yi’s gaze grew calm. After a long pause, he murmured, “I have a way.”
