“Your eyes?”
“Blind, can’t see.”
“Your legs?”
“Limping, bitten by a dog.”
Shuiquan Village, an old, dilapidated temple.
Outside the temple, the wind gently rustled the leaves.
Inside, a bewitching woman wearing a red high-slit dress lay on a pile of dry straw.
The hem of her dress slipped up to her upper thigh with the movement of her body, revealing smooth, pale skin.
Her bare feet poked at the straw, the silver bells on her ankles jingling with each motion, louder than the wind outside.
Such a beautiful sight—any normal man would probably swallow hard upon seeing it.
But the young boy in front of her didn’t look at her at all. He kept staring at the fire in front of him.
Over the fire hung a medicinal pot, releasing a strong herbal aroma.
This boy was her lifesaver.
He looked about eleven or twelve, dressed in coarse linen clothes.
His eyes were covered with gray cloth.
Though he couldn’t see, he was diligently brewing medicine for her.
Whenever Feng Yaqin asked a question, the boy answered.
With each of his replies, her brows furrowed deeper, an inexplicable bitterness rising in her heart.
Jiang Che had no idea what was going through her mind.
Nor did he care to think about it.
The firelight flickered across his face, but he saw nothing.
All thanks to his ruthless Master.
He remembered when he first transmigrated into this world.
It had been a catastrophic beginning.
The village he lived in was plagued by monsters—man-eating monsters.
The entire village was captured, and Jiang Che nearly got eaten too.
But that monster mother saw that little Jiang Che was fair and adorable, so she left him for last.
Thanks to that pretty face, he survived until his Master arrived.
Because of that, he joined the Shenxiao Sect’s Lingjian Peak, becoming the first disciple of its first seat and thus the Senior Brother of Lingjian Peak.
With the soul from his past life, he naturally possessed spiritual power far beyond others his age.
After ten years in the sect, at just eighteen, he broke through to the Great Perfection of the Golden Core.
He was also utterly loyal to his Master. Since his Master rarely cared for his disciples, all affairs at Lingjian Peak were handled solely by him.
But because his Master neglected the disciples…
On the day Jiang Che was framed, she directly destroyed his eyes with a single sword strike, severed his spiritual root, and expelled him from the sect.
Jiang Che wandered outside, nearly losing his life, yet miraculously woke up the next day.
Still, all was darkness before his eyes. But now he wore loose clothing.
He had reverted to a child’s appearance, around ten years old.
“All done. The medicine will be ready soon. Serve yourself a bowl and drink it. I’m going out for a bit. Stay put.”
Jiang Che said calmly.
Feng Yaqin looked at him with complicated eyes.
She couldn’t guess that Jiang Che’s soul was actually older than hers.
It had been nearly half a month since Feng Yaqin was betrayed, seriously injured internally, and had hidden in this broken temple where Jiang Che found her.
She didn’t sense any cultivation from the boy—just an ordinary mortal child.
The only unusual thing was that, despite being a child, he knew quite a lot.
He even dragged his crippled body out to gather herbs to treat her.
Jiang Che stood up and slung a bamboo basket filled with herbs over his back. These herbs were to be exchanged with the villagers for food.
This was how he supported both himself and Feng Yaqin.
Feng Yaqin silently resolved to bring this little fellow back to her sect and give him a good life.
“This little Yaoshi is skinny but handsome. Straight nose, definitely going to be a handsome man when he grows up.”
Jiang Che hadn’t told Feng Yaqin his name, so she always called him the little Yaoshi.
She picked up the medicine and took a sip.
As the bitter liquid touched her lips and entered her mouth, her brow slightly knit.
“Bitter.”
Feng Yaqin obviously disliked taking medicine, but thinking of how this little grown-up had brewed it, she drank it down in one gulp.
The bitterness of the medicine didn’t mask her inner feelings—in fact, it made her notice her unusual thoughts all the more.
She unconsciously smiled, as if laughing at herself.
“Ah, I never thought that Feng Yaqin, renowned for her unparalleled elegance, would fancy such a little brat. So shameless.”
She scolded herself silently.
But then she recalled that her father, well into his old age, often sought out girls barely in their teens.
Maybe she wasn’t so impossible.
At worst, once the little Yaoshi grew up, she’d pamper him for life.
***
Shuiquan Village.
A remote settlement in the Dayan Dynasty.
The evening sky was thick with dark clouds.
The entire village looked gloomy under the heavy overcast.
Jiang Che hobbled along the path on a crutch, limping toward a small wooden house in the village.
A yellow candlelight shone inside.
Jiang Che gently knocked on the door.
Obviously, this wasn’t his first visit.
Through the door came a faint herbal scent.
After a moment, the door opened, revealing an elderly man, over sixty, but with a refined demeanor.
The old man’s face lit up upon seeing Jiang Che.
“Little Che’s here! Come in, what did you gather today?”
The old man was Hu Jingzhong, the village’s only doctor.
The herbs Jiang Che collected were usually traded with him for copper coins or food.
Jiang Che nodded and stepped inside, placing the bamboo basket on the floor.
Hu Jingzhong bent over, scrutinizing the herbs by candlelight.
Qingyun Grass, Platycodon…
There were over a dozen plants.
It was hard to imagine someone blind and limping could gather such herbs.
Moreover, not a single weed mixed in the basket.
Hu Jingzhong nodded with satisfaction.
Why satisfaction? Because he had high hopes for Jiang Che.
When he first met Jiang Che, he simply pitied him.
As long as Jiang Che could bring useful herbs, he would give him food.
But this kid was special.
Without any instruction, he already knew various herbs.
And he could gather them alone in the forest despite being blind.
This was almost impossible.
Hu Jingzhong originally doubted Jiang Che’s origins.
But why bother worrying over such a pitiful child?
So when Jiang Che first brought herbs, Hu Jingzhong had wanted to take him as a disciple.
Unfortunately, Jiang Che refused.
But Hu Jingzhong didn’t mind and even tried to give Jiang Che his accumulated medical books.
Yet just as he reached out to hand them over, he withdrew his hand again.
Jiang Che can’t see! What good are books to him?
A talent cursed by fate!
Since then, every time Jiang Che came, Hu Jingzhong would share his medical knowledge bit by bit, teaching him through words and example.
Why was he so persistent?
Because his son died young after contracting smallpox from a patient.
He was left with only a granddaughter.
Holding to the traditional mindset of passing skills only to sons, he didn’t have high hopes for his granddaughter, instead focusing his efforts entirely on Jiang Che.
“Little Che, the Guazijin you brought today is quite good. Let me tell you, it’s excellent for relieving coughs, resolving phlegm, and promoting blood circulation to stop bleeding.”
Hu Jingzhong stroked his chin and spoke calmly.
Jiang Che showed little interest but responded at just the right moments to spare the old man’s feelings.
He could distinguish herbs by touch, smell, and growing environment; of course, he knew their properties.
Back when he was Senior Brother at Lingjian Peak, whenever a junior disciple fell ill, he’d read medical books himself and prepare the medicine.
While Hu Jingzhong was still talking, a silvery bell-like voice interrupted from the back room.
“Grandpa, is A’Che here? Hurry and call him in to eat.”
The curtain to the back room was lifted, and a plain-dressed, fair-skinned girl in her teens stepped out.
She was Hu Jingzhong’s granddaughter—Hu Qiao’er.
“Grandpa! Stop always talking about these things. You just got back and don’t even rest or eat properly.”
Hu Qiao’er walked over and patted Jiang Che’s head.
She had already regarded this boy as a little brother.
But Jiang Che didn’t want to stay at their house.
“A’Che, don’t mind my grandpa. Come in and eat first.”
Jiang Che looked up and said, “Not this time, Qiao’er. I have to go back. Can I exchange some food?”
He didn’t agree to stay for the meal this time.
Before Feng Yaqin appeared, he often stayed here to eat.
Listening to Old Hu talk about medicinal knowledge, enjoying Qiao’er’s cooking, and feeling the rare warmth of a home.
If he could, he wished life would continue like this.
If he were just an ordinary person, in an ordinary world.