"Thump!"
Qin Shuli tumbled from the *kang* and hit the floor with a heavy thud.
"What the hell? Where the devil have you dragged me to?"
Rubbing the lump forming on his forehead, Qin Shuli sat up and looked around the desolate, dilapidated room. The lighting was dim; aside from the *kang* he had been sleeping on, there was only a wardrobe and a small, square table.
"That’s not right. Didn't I die trying to save someone?"
A throbbing pain pulsed through the bump on his head, and suddenly, realization dawned on him. After turning seventeen and getting into college, he had deferred his studies to enlist. He had just finished his two-year stint and was on his way to complete his re-enrollment paperwork when he saw someone fall into the water. Qin Shuli hadn't hesitated, but the person had struggled violently in a blind panic. In the end, he hadn't saved the person, and had lost his own life in the process.
"So, I’ve transmigrated?"
The next moment, memories flooded his mind. Like a flicker-book, the entire life story of this body from birth played out before his eyes. After processing the memories, Qin Shuli let out a silent sigh and gave a bitter smile.
"Transmigration, fine. But to Beiping in early 1943? The Japanese devils are still here!"
The body he inhabited was that of an eight-year-old boy who shared his name. There were five people in the family. His father, Qin Dazhu, had been a blacksmith. In 1938, unable to make ends meet back home, he had brought his wife, Wang Yueshu, and their two-year-old son to Beiping. After years of hard work, they had managed to secure a foothold in the front yard of the West Side Courtyard at No. 95 Nanluoguxiang—a space that had once served as a stable.
Because animals had been kept there for years, the stench of excrement had seeped deep into the ground. The owner couldn't sell it: the rich didn't want it, and the poor couldn't afford it. Finally, Qin Dazhu grit his teeth and spent 130 Silver Dollars to buy it. He then spent three years scraping away several dozen centimeters of soil, replacing it with fresh dirt, just to make it barely habitable. But the purchase had drained the Qin family’s every last cent; even the gold bracelet Wang Yueshu’s family had left her was pawned. The Qin family was now dirt poor.
On the sixth day of the Lunar New Year, while Qin Dazhu was at work, little Qin Shuli had followed him from a distance out of curiosity and had the misfortune of running into a Japanese street sweep. When Qin Dazhu tried to flee, he saw his son. Realizing he couldn't escape himself, he could only leave a few hurried words: "Dali, your mother's health is poor and she's bedridden. You're eight this year. If I don't come back, this family will have to rely on you to hold it together."
Standing against the wall, the tears that welled up in young Qin Shuli’s eyes froze the moment they touched his cheeks. He watched helplessly as the soldiers tied his father up, chained him to the others, and hauled him away in a truck. He tried to follow, but he couldn't keep up, so he had to walk home alone through the snow, stumbling every step of the way.
When his mother, brother, and sister asked him what had happened, he said nothing. He simply did all the chores he could manage, hoping against hope that his father would suddenly appear at the courtyard gate. Little Shuli had held on for eight days like that, before finally succumbing to despair and helplessness.
After sorting through the memories, Qin Shuli couldn't help but sigh. How desperate the child must have been, waiting in vain until the end for his father to return. How could an eight-year-old boy earn money or support a family? Having absorbed the memories and emotions of the younger Qin Shuli, the two were now one. He was him, and he was also him!
"Wait, now that I’m here, it's my job to support this family. But how?"
Qin Shuli felt exhausted. A father whose life or death was uncertain, a bedridden mother, younger siblings waiting to be fed, and himself, left in such a helpless, desperate state! This start was way too brutal.
In this day and age, to feed a family, you had to perform manual labor. But he was only eight, a mere meter and twenty centimeters tall. His small arms and legs couldn't carry heavy loads or pull carts. If he wanted to get rich, he should rob the collaborators—those fat-cat puppets were all rolling in cash. But the military combat techniques he had learned in his past life couldn't be executed with this body, and those men had guns. As the old saying went: beyond seven paces, the gun is fast; within seven paces, the gun is fast and accurate.
Qin Shuli decided he couldn't afford to mess with them!
Suddenly, his surroundings shifted. He found himself in an unfamiliar place. A moment later, he opened his eyes, a faint smile appearing on his face. As expected, fate had made the best arrangements; the heavens had not abandoned him.
This Space was small, spanning about ten *mu*. It was enclosed by walls of an unknown material. The front four *mu* were for planting, the next four for grazing, and in the middle stood three bungalows with side wings—the owner's living area—covering one *mu*. The backyard was another *mu*, used for storage.
Looking at the black soil, countless crops flashed through Qin Shuli's mind. If he planted all of this, it should be enough to feed the whole family for a year. The grazing area could be used for pigs, sheep, and chickens, solving the problem of meat. Beside him was a spiritual spring; its water could irrigate the fields and serve as drinking water, which would strengthen the body and prolong life.
Qin Shuli hurried to the spring and took a long, refreshing drink. It tasted warm and surprisingly sweet. He then turned and walked into the main room. On the living room table sat two boxes. He opened one to find a pill the size of a chicken egg. According to the instructions in his mind, this pill would cleanse his marrow and unlock the body's latent potential. The other box contained a jade tablet inscribed with a training method to further develop that potential.
Qin Shuli didn't hesitate for a second and swallowed the pill. His life was already an unexpected gift, after all; if he didn't risk it, he had no chance at all!
Ten minutes later, he felt a wave of warmth coursing through his body. His 1.2-meter frame even seemed to stretch, growing to 1.3 meters. He picked up the jade tablet, and before he could figure out how to use it, it turned into a beam of light and shot into his brow. The entire training method was imprinted on his mind, and the warmth in his body began to circulate automatically according to the technique.
Qin Shuli was overjoyed. This was perfect; if he had tried to train on his own, he likely would have gone mad.
Once the warmth subsided, he washed his body. His previously scrawny physique had been replaced by lean muscle. He felt terrifyingly strong and was tempted to go out and test his skills against the Japanese. His combat effectiveness now surely surpassed that of any modern special forces soldier.
"Big Brother, I’m hungry!"
A voice came from outside. Qin Shuli immediately snapped back to reality. He opened his eyes to see two scrawny little figures standing in the doorway, their eyes blinking at him. It was the little girl who had spoken.
Qin Shuli looked at his twin brother and sister, a wave of warmth washing over him. He had been an orphan in his past life; it was wonderful to have family now. The only problem was that the two children were covered in black soot, from their faces to their new cotton-padded winter jackets. Black ash from the bottom of the pot was falling off them with every step they took.
"Shufan, did you crawl through the stove vent in the kitchen twice? Why is your face covered in soot?"
The little girl, Qin Shufan, grinned, revealing two rows of white teeth. "Big Brother, I wanted to cook for you!"
Look at how sensible children were in this day and age. Only three years old, and already trying to cook.
Wait… cook?
Qin Shuli bolted toward the kitchen. He had to make sure they hadn't burned the house down. In this weather, sleeping outside would mean certain death.
He reached the kitchen doorway and saw, to his relief, no sign of flames.