Chapter Two: The Eighteenth Year of the Kaihuang Era (Part One)

Night had fallen, and the chill in the air was carried by the gentle yet piercing wind. Though the breeze was not fierce, it cut to the bone. Li Jianguo had no idea what era this was, much less the season. He lay wedged in the crevice of a massive rock, the vines offering scant protection from the cold, and was eventually frozen awake. After all, he was just an infant; no matter how strong his constitution, there was only so much he could endure. The phrase “suffering from hunger and cold” described his plight perfectly.

The fissure was narrow, barely enough space to shift his body. When Li Jianguo opened his eyes, hunger surged through him. It was bizarre enough to find himself turned into a baby, and even stranger to be hunted... Li Jianguo worried if Yan Hu could escape Ning Changzhen’s pursuit. He understood little of what was happening, but even he could see that when they parted, Yan Hu was gravely wounded.

This all felt like something out of a martial arts drama.

Ning Changzhen? What an unfamiliar name...

Thinking over his recent experiences, his mind grew muddled once again.

Moonlight, pure and cold, filtered through the cracks in the vines. This seemed to be a desolate place, and as night deepened, the distant howls of wolves echoed from the mountains. Fear crept over Li Jianguo—yet there was nothing he could do. When Yan Hu left him here, it had been just past noon. Now, night had fallen, and it must have been at least eight or nine o’clock. Yan Hu had not returned; the odds were not in his favor. Even if Yan Hu managed to survive, if he did not return soon, Li Jianguo’s own life would be in jeopardy. He needed a plan. As a helpless infant, he lacked even the strength to fend for himself—what was he to do?

Would anyone pass by in the dead of night?

Li Jianguo hoped Yan Hu would escape danger and return quickly. At the same time, he was desperate for warmth and food, wishing someone would pass by and rescue him. Waiting was agony; not waiting was no better. His heart was torn by indecision.

Numbness was already creeping into his body.

Suddenly, the sound of wheels and galloping horses reached his ears.

At the end of the road, a caravan appeared. At the front rode dozens of warriors in traveling attire, followed by seven or eight carriages, and at the rear trailed a group of servants in black uniforms, an impressive procession. Li Jianguo could not see what was happening outside, but the sounds of wheels and hooves filled him with hope. Travelers! And by the sound of it, quite a few.

Should he cry for help?

Li Jianguo hesitated. If he were rescued, and Yan Hu returned, how would his uncle find him? But if he didn’t cry out, who knew when Yan Hu would come back—by then, he might already have frozen to death.

Li Jianguo only knew that his uncle was called Yan Hu, and his father’s surname was Li.

If he lost contact with Yan Hu, would he even know his own origins?

The sound of hooves passed by the stone, fading into the distance. A gust of wind lifted the vines, sending a chill into the crevice and making Li Jianguo deeply uncomfortable. Enough—it was survival that mattered most! If he lost his life, even Yan Hu’s return would be meaningless.

Resolved, Li Jianguo summoned his strength and let out a piercing infant’s wail.

“Stop!” shouted a rider in the caravan.

He tilted his head, listening, then turned his horse and headed toward the source of the cry. A dozen warriors followed. As they passed a luxurious carriage, the curtain stirred and an elderly voice called out, “Renji, why have we stopped?”

“Father, I think I heard a child crying just now.”

“In this desolate place, how could there be a child’s cry? Shian, did you hear anything?”

Another elderly, slightly sharp and effeminate voice replied from within, “Master, I heard it as well.”

There was a moment of silence in the carriage.

“Shian, go and investigate… Renji, send men to search the area for anything suspicious.”

Even as the words were spoken, the curtain was drawn aside.

A white-faced, beardless old man in white robes and a half-length vest stepped out. He gave Renji a respectful bow, then signaled to the rear of the convoy. Four or five servants in black followed him toward Li Jianguo’s hiding place. At the same time, Renji turned and commanded the riders to split into two groups—some investigated the surroundings, others dismounted to encircle the carriages and stand guard.

After crying out twice, Li Jianguo heard movement outside. He quickly stopped crying, eyes wide, peering out. The vines were pushed aside, and a plump old man appeared, scooping him up and examining him in astonishment. The old man then called out, “Master, there’s a baby here… tsk tsk, look at this poor child, nearly frozen to death. What kind of heartless parents would abandon him here? There, there, don’t cry—you must be hungry!”

At last, he was saved!

Li Jianguo had no idea who these people were, but a surge of relief flooded him, and he couldn’t help but giggle.

“Steward Zheng, the child is smiling at you,” a servant whispered behind Shian.

The white-faced, beardless old man’s eyes softened with warmth.

“Steward Zheng, is this the child?” Renji approached and asked quietly. After a glance at Li Jianguo, he said, “He must be hungry. Perhaps Mistress Xu could feed him some milk. Father is waiting for you in the carriage—he seems to have matters to discuss.”

Li Jianguo found this curious.

From their manner of address, he could roughly deduce their relationships. The plump old man holding him seemed to be a steward, while the thirty-something man was likely a young master. Yet the young master was remarkably respectful toward the steward. What kind of household was this?

Shian nodded and instructed the servants to carry Li Jianguo to the last carriage, where they summoned a woman of about thirty. She was plain-faced but pretty, her hair coiled in a bun, dressed in a blue short jacket, the skirt gathered at her chest, and a half-length vest atop it. At first glance, Li Jianguo found her attire familiar.

It resembled the traditional dress of the Korean ethnic group.

“Mistress Xu, the steward asks you to feed this baby,” a servant said.

Mistress Xu took Li Jianguo, looked him over in surprise, and sighed, “Such a lovely child—how could his parents abandon him?”

The servant shrugged. “How should I know… Mistress Xu, please feed him quickly. The steward is waiting.”

She nodded and carried Li Jianguo into the carriage.

Inside, besides Mistress Xu, there was a little girl, about five or six years old, her hair tied in two buns. Beside her, a baby slept soundly.

When Mistress Xu entered, the little girl asked, “Mother, who is he?”

“I don’t know which heartless parents left him by the roadside. The steward asked me to feed him… Duoduo, you should sleep now.”

The girl cast an unhappy glance at Li Jianguo but said nothing, curling up in the corner and falling asleep.

Mistress Xu unfastened her jacket and nursed Li Jianguo. Though embarrassed, hunger won out, and he drank his fill. As soon as he was done, a voice called from outside, “Mistress Xu, is the baby finished? The steward wants you to bring him over.”

“I’m coming!” Mistress Xu answered, quickly tidying her clothes and taking Li Jianguo in her arms.

“Duoduo, stay here and be good. Don’t cause trouble… I’ll be right back after taking him to the steward. Go to sleep.”

The little girl, it turned out, had not fallen asleep, but watched Li Jianguo with wide, dark eyes. For reasons he could not explain, Li Jianguo sensed something odd in her gaze—was it resentment? Or affection? He could not tell… It was complicated, and pitiable, making his heart skip a beat for no reason.

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