Duan Yan spent the night in one of the other rooms in the courtyard. It was summer, and the weather was hot, so he could have slept anywhere, except the mosquitoes were plentiful.
He lay on a small couch that could not fully accommodate his large frame, his thoughts tangled and chaotic. He drifted in and out of a groggy haze and barely slept at all through the night.
The next morning, the faint crowing of a rooster filtered through.
The sky had not yet fully brightened, still wrapped in a layer of grayish white. Duan Yan felt as if he, too, had been swaddled in a cloth — his head heavy, his vision occasionally swimming with dark spots.
Whether it was because of the poor sleep the night before, or because he was inhabiting someone else's body and could not move with ease, he was not as sharp and spirited as he used to be.
He pushed through the discomfort with sheer willpower, forced himself out of bed, and aimlessly wandered around the house.
The residence was a sizable one, with a full ten rooms in total.
But whether from memory or from the visible traces of daily life, it was clear that this was the home of a single man.
Among the several bedrooms, only the room where Song Fengsui was staying contained actual living essentials. There were two other rooms that lay mostly empty, with a couple of hastily placed couches — apparently meant as a place for the men under his command to crash after a night of heavy drinking.
As for the remaining rooms, apart from those with dedicated purposes like the kitchen, they were all piled with clutter — items like animal hides, antlers, rabbit fur, and other wild game obtained from hunting. There were also clumsy, unrefined lumps of iron of varying shapes...
The entire residence was a mess, and the kitchen had no trace of smoke from recent cooking. Looking at the cold ash layered over the stove, it was hard to tell if a fire had been lit there months ago.
From his memories, Duan Yan knew that the original owner of this body rarely stayed at this residence, spending most of his time instead at his blacksmith shop in town.
That place had sleeping quarters and a kitchen, and he even had a dedicated cook. During the day, he would forge iron and sell goods there, with his brothers all gathered at the shop. It was lively, and eating and living were convenient, so he rarely bothered to make the trip back to this residence.
Although the fact that Duan Yan had transmigrated into a novel was far beyond anything he had perceived before, and was absurd enough as it was, at least there was a sliver of logic to it.
For instance, when it happened, he had been listening to this book when he got into a car accident, and then he ended up inside the story.
But what about the original owner of the body? He remembered that before he had taken over, the original owner had been drinking and eating meat with a few of his blacksmith brothers. They were right in the thick of their revelry, and the original owner seemed to have gotten lightheaded from the alcohol. The next time he regained consciousness, he was already being supported into the room by Gou San'er.
According to his memories, the original owner had an excellent tolerance for alcohol. By all rights, he should not have gotten so dizzy that he blacked out from only half a jar.
If it was not because the two of them shared the same name that had caused them to switch places, then within the information Duan Yan could gather, this was the only truly peculiar thing.
Duan Yan did not know if he was overthinking things. He set aside his thoughts and walked to the door of Song Fengsui's room. Recalling what had happened the night before, he still felt extremely awkward.
He hesitated briefly before gently knocking on the door. In the early morning, unlike the noise of the day, every sound seemed to ring with a hollow clarity.
No sound came from within the room. The other man was probably still asleep.
Duan Yan then went out for a walk, had a bowl of noodles on the street, and also ordered some congee along with two small dishes of lightly flavored side dishes to take back.
By then, the day was fully bright, and the distant sun was beginning to peek over the horizon. He circled back to Song Fengsui's room twice more, but there was still no answer from inside.
It would have been awkward for him to barge in on his own, but he was certain the other man was still in the room. After several visits with no sign of waking, and given that the hour was getting late, he sensed something was off and hurried off to find a doctor.
It was then that Gou San'er arrived at the house with two people, beating Duan Yan out the door. One was a boy of about thirteen or fourteen, and the other was a woman in her thirties.
"This boy is called An Ge'er. He used to work in a wealthy household in the county town. He knows a few characters and has seen a bit of the world. He is meticulous and quick — perfect for attending to someone," Gou San'er introduced to Duan Yan.
He added: "And this is Aunt Li. Her cooking may not be particularly impressive, but she can handle a little bit of everything."
Duan Yan glanced at the pair, one young and one older, his brow twitching slightly. He pulled Gou San'er aside.
"Where did you find these people, and why did you bring them here?"
Hearing this, Gou San'er thought Duan Yan might not trust his choice of people and quickly said: "Brother Duan, rest assured, these two are as clean as they come. If you do not believe me, you can go ask around in detail. I went to the labor agency this morning to look, and that An Ge'er is someone the agency only just brought in.
Of course, it would be best if you went and picked them out yourself, but I figured you probably could not spare the time to deal with all this, so I took the liberty of taking care of it."
Duan Yan had not been thinking about that at all, and said: "I don't need anyone to attend to me."
Gou San'er shot Duan Yan a look, thinking to himself how careless his big brother was being.
He explained in detail: "My dear brother, you are the most laissez-faire soul around. But that Young Master Song — he came from a high-ranking family in the capital. There is no way he can go without servants. Even if he is fallen on hard times now and can no longer afford such luxuries, with his condition, someone has to be there to look after him.
It cannot be that you, brother, have to tend to every little thing yourself. Even if you had the patience, there are bound to be inconvenient situations. Now that people are staying in this house, the stove cannot stay cold all the time. While it is easy enough to order food from outside, it is not always convenient to rush out for a bowl of soup or a drink of water."
Duan Yan heard him out and thought: This kid really does think of everything.
But: "Once he wakes up and is fine, I am sending him back immediately. No need to arrange these people."
He knew that, according to the setting in the book, Song Fengsui was nothing short of a hot potato — not someone he should keep close.
Moreover, even if he was not afraid of trouble and could endure the embarrassment of having a nosebleed in front of the man like a pervert, there was no guarantee that Song Fengsui would want to stay.
Ask anyone with a sound mind — would they want to stay close to someone who had drugged them? If they had to coexist, they would probably not only lock the doors and seal the windows at night, but also sew their trousers shut with three layers just to be able to sleep.
Although none of that was actually his doing, he felt that in Song Fengsui's eyes, he would not be so easily cleared of suspicion.
Indeed, Song Fengsui was stunningly beautiful — like an exceptionally rare piece of icy jade. It was hard for anyone who laid eyes on him not to feel a desire to possess him.
But Duan Yan was not the type of man to be swayed by lust alone, losing all self-control. Especially when he knew full well that chaos was about to erupt across the land in the near future, he had no mental space to waste on such fleeting and superficial things.
If he wanted to survive in this world, the most urgent task at hand was to understand the political situation, build his own network of connections, stockpile supplies as early as possible, so that when the war finally broke out, he would have the means to protect himself.
Based on his memories, the place he was in now, Qian, was an extremely remote and impoverished region far from the capital. With its treacherous mountains, barren land, and pervasive poisonous insects and miasma, it had long been used as a place of exile for criminals.
Over the years, it had seen little development—the roads were narrow, travel was difficult, and anyone who mentioned Qian could only sigh and shake their heads at its destitution.
And Rock Town, where Duan Yan lived, was the northernmost, most isolated little town in all of Qian. Most of the time, even the authorities could hardly be bothered to trek up there to exercise jurisdiction even once.
A place like this was truly beyond the reach of the heavens and the emperor alike—the perfect domain for local bullies to rule unchallenged. It was only more chaotic and more impoverished for it.
Because of this, even if war broke out outside, it would be very difficult for the fighting to reach Qian.
These lands, even without the turmoil of war, were hardly better off than during wartime. Actual war was not the thing to fear; what was truly worth worrying about was the famine mentioned in the book's synopsis. When drought and blizzards struck—that was the real disaster.
When Gou San'er heard Duan Yan say he intended to send Song Fengsui back, his expression shifted: "Young Master Song's Liuxiu Village is in the grip of a terrible epidemic right now. People keep dying one after another, and it's contagious to boot. The brothers and I only just managed to drag him out of there—the village has already been sealed off. No one's allowed in or out."
"If we send Young Master Song back now, we'd be sending him to his death."
He only said this much. The rest, he neither could nor dared to say to Duan Yan.
Among these brothers, Chen Hu—the one their big brother trusted most—had also taken a fancy to Young Master Song, and had long since been harboring ulterior motives.
The other simple-minded fellows couldn't read his intentions, but Gou San'er could see it plain as day. Chen Hu had come up with the scheme to spirit the young man out, claiming he meant to offer him as a gift to their leader, yet yesterday he'd been relentlessly plying Duan Yan with the strongest liquor.
Gou San'er had secretly slipped out the back door to summon a physician, and upon their leader's orders, had sent the others away. Everyone left willingly, except that one bastard who pretended to be drunk and refused to budge, forcing Gou San'er to call the others over to haul him out.
No doubt Chen Hu had already marked him for revenge.
If Duan Yan really did send Young Master Song back now, the young man would fall straight into Chen Hu's hands. That bastard was no good—he'd grind the lad down to nothing.
Duan Yan's brows knitted tight. He'd forgotten about the epidemic, and he hadn't known the situation there was already so dire.
He thought for a moment: "Then keep those two here for now."
Seeing this, Gou San'er thought to himself that his big brother was indeed sharp—one word and he understood: "I'll go have a proper word with them right away."
Duan Yan called out to Gou San'er: "Go fetch that physician from yesterday again. I'll speak with them myself."
Gou San'er acknowledged and left.
Duan Yan first sent Aunt Li to the kitchen to tidy up, and gave strict instructions to An Ge'er to go tend to Song Fengsui in his room.
...........
When Song Fengsui regained consciousness from a haze of fever, he felt as though a thousand-pound weight pressed down on his whole body—heavy and leaden.
With burning eyes, he glanced around the room, recalling where he was now, and spotted a strange young man before him, wringing out a cloth over a basin by the washstand. He tried to speak, but his throat felt like he'd swallowed shards of glass—the pain was unbearable.
Hearing the slight sound, An Ge'er turned around and saw that the handsome young man who'd been lying restlessly moments ago had finally opened his eyes. He hurried over: "Young master, you're finally awake!"
Song Fengsui looked at the honest-faced young man before him, struggling to sit up, but his limbs wouldn't obey him—he felt as though all his bones had been stripped away.
Seeing this, An Ge'er carefully helped him into a seated position.
Catching his puzzled expression and his difficulty in speaking, An Ge'er took the initiative to explain: "This servant was purchased by Master Duan specifically to attend to you, young master. The physician came by a moment ago and said you had a fever. Master Duan was very worried, and once the prescription was made, he took it to brew the medicine for you himself."
Song Fengsui's brows furrowed slightly, and he couldn't help but recall the events of yesterday.
Looking down, he saw he was wearing a loose set of sleeping clothes—clearly a man's, judging by the size.
But he felt no panic. Though he had never known the marriage bed, and his body was deeply uncomfortable now, he was well-versed in medicine and knew for certain that he had not been violated.
Moreover, these sleeping clothes were brand new... After he'd fallen unconscious last night, he dimly recalled that a woman had come to examine him, chattering on and on, and it must have been she who changed his clothes.
Out of habit, he reached for the knife he carried for self-defense.
He felt around blindly, thinking it had been taken by Duan Yan while he was out cold, but then—his fingers wandering—he found the blade under the pillow.
Song Fengsui looked at the knife in his hands, drew it out with effort, and the dagger slid from its sheath, gleaming with cold, deadly sharpness.
He fell into a brief reverie. When that man had given him this knife, was it because he was so confident in his own skill that even with a blade in hand, Song Fengsui couldn't harm him in the slightest? Or had he truly meant to give this useless young man something for protection?
As he drifted in thought, a knock suddenly came at the door. Duan Yan entered, carrying a bowl of medicine.
