Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Jagged icy peaks pierced the cold, stark sky.

In the winter of the thirtieth year of Anjian, in the Pinglin Kingdom.

Along the official road from Quxia Prefecture to Anqiu County.

The first snow fell softly, sorrowful and silent.

A simple horse-drawn carriage stood by the roadside, its passengers tearful and anxious.

“Sir, sir, we’re almost at your post in Anqiu County. Please wake up, please wake up.”

“County Magistrate, greetings. Brother Chu, you’ve really made it, you’ve really made it.”

A small mute, struggling to produce hoarse sounds, shook the still-warm body.

Time passed—long enough that passing merchant caravans stopped to inquire, murmuring, “It seems officials from the Central Plains often fall ill when appointed to the western frontier—either due to the unfamiliar climate or sudden cold weather. It’s not surprising they succumb.”

They glanced at Anqiu County with pity—only someone with little family support would be assigned here. This family would likely never recover.

Listening to the crying beside him, Ji Chu thought, indeed, acting bravely had its merits: though he had no relatives, there were still people by his side mourning.

He wondered if the toddler nearby had been hurt; the carriage had rushed too fast, but he had done his best to help.

Ji Chu struggled to open his eyes but could only hear the sobbing, unable to move.

The voices around sounded strange, and he couldn’t understand what they said.

“Water... water...” Ji Chu whispered faintly.

The crying abruptly stopped. Everyone hurriedly gave him warm water. The taste was strange—there was a hint of ginseng.

Ji Chu soon slipped back into unconsciousness, his breathing steadying.

Tears remained un-wiped on the carriage passengers’ faces, mingling surprise with hope.

“The Magistrate... he’s come back to life?”

“Perhaps he wasn’t truly dead.”

At this, the group laughed and cried, their emotions soaring.

The coachman wiped his tears. “There’s a small inn ahead. Let’s rest there with the Magistrate.”

Everyone agreed. The simple carriage moved slowly forward, cautious of every bump.

Yet the road was rough and uneven.

In his dreams, Ji Chu felt as if he were on a boat.

Soon, he lost interest in these thoughts.

Suddenly, a memory foreign to him surfaced in his mind.

This year, he was twenty-five, sharing the same name—Ji Chu—who had just passed the provincial exams. He was preparing to both apply for official posts and continue studying for the next imperial examination.

Normally, though passing the provincial exam granted eligibility for office, selection to a post was unlikely.

But fortune smiled this year: the court was purging corrupt officials and urgently needed replacements.

This new provincial graduate received an appointment to serve on the frontier.

He faced a choice: continue studying or accept a minor official’s post in the borderlands.

Ji Chu had studied for twenty years and did not want to burden his family further, so he packed quickly and set off.

Even a minor official was an official, marking his transition from scholar to County Magistrate.

Because the opportunity came suddenly, his preparations were rushed, including his wedding.

But haste brought problems.

To arrive before the deadline, the party rushed, and Ji Chu’s cough worsened into a severe cold, rendering him bedridden.

Just now, he had died.

Ji Chu mourned silently for this man.

He understood his choice.

This Magistrate Ji was the fourth child in a farming family that valued education deeply, still possessing the ancestral collection of the Four Books and Five Classics.

Sadly, the eldest brother, second brother, and elder sister could barely read; only Ji was gifted in learning—becoming a county scholar at nineteen and passing the provincial exams at twenty-five.

From age five until now, the family supported his studies.

Ji Chu felt guilty; the man had studied so hard and finally earned a chance to serve as an official—an opportunity he cherished deeply.

To not disappoint his family’s hopes, he pushed through illness to reach his post on time.

Only by becoming an official could he protect his family and repay their sacrifices.

Even before his death, his thoughts were of his father, mother, siblings, nephews, nieces, and his newlywed wife.

They had been betrothed since childhood, but the marriage was hurriedly arranged and followed him on this arduous journey—yet he could protect none of them now.

Ji Chu thought the Magistrate likely worried too much, overwhelmed by joy and anxiety alike, compounded by the hardships of travel, which worsened his condition.

How tragic that after so many years of study, this was his fate.

“Please take good care of my family.”

“Please,” the weak voice pleaded.

Ji Chu heard someone say, “Your world is truly a good one.”

“They buried you in the public cemetery. People visit and pay respects every year.”

The plea repeated: “Please, take good care of them.”

Ji Chu suddenly opened his eyes.

The night was pitch black.

The cold in the air told him he was definitely not in a hospital.

A slowly moving oil lamp brought a woman’s joyful voice, pulling him back: “Sir, you—you’re awake.”

Ji Chu tried to speak.

What was happening? He had risked his life to help others—then somehow crossed worlds?

The memories not his own surged again. Instinctively, he said, “Thank you, my lady.”

His voice was weak and unfamiliar. He drew a deep breath—he had never been this frail before.

A few coughs made the woman more anxious. She set down the lamp.

“Nonsense. Only if you recover can we rest assured.”

“Master Li and Zhen’er are preparing medicine and will be here soon.”

Ji Chu looked at the woman by the lamp and nodded slightly, calming his breathing.

She was the wife the original man had married. They had set off for his post the day after their wedding, without consummating their marriage.

Along the journey, his new wife, Tao Lewei, had cared for his illness.

Master Li was originally a private tutor from their village, but since the appointment required bringing his own staff, he became “Master Li,” traveling with his family.

Zhen’er, Ji Zhen, was the second son of the original man’s eldest brother, who had become mute after childhood illness.

The original man had brought this nephew to help secure him a future.

No wonder the original man repeatedly asked Ji Chu to care for his family—they were very dear to him.

He must have returned to his own world.

Unfortunately, his luck ran out; he died hit by a carriage. There was no second chance. He watched helplessly as his body was buried in the public cemetery.

Still, no harsh words were left—only a request to care for his loved ones.

Ji Chu sighed deeply.

“The medicine is ready,” said a bearded middle-aged man entering. He wore plain cotton clothes and seemed unaccustomed to such tasks; his hands trembled slightly.

This was Li Jingyuan, Master Li, aged thirty-three, who had passed the county-level exam but made no further progress. Being a traveling assistant was one of the better paths open to him.

Nearby, the mute nephew took the medicine anxiously.

Seventeen-year-old Ji Zhen—the blood of the family—his concern genuine.

Looking at his wife, Ji Chu pinched his nose and gulped down the bitter medicine, forcing himself to swallow some warm porridge that had been kept hot.

He would eat—no matter what.

Only by restoring his health could he fulfill the original man’s wishes and not disappoint those around him.

Ji Chu took a deep breath. “What day is it today?”

The original man had been so ill that he had lost track of time.

But Ji Chu remembered: the original man had to arrive by the second day of the eleventh lunar month, or he would be late, needing to report to the prefecture and face court punishment.

At worst, he could be dismissed.

The exams were in August, departure in September, and the journey spanned three to four thousand li, with a deadline of early November.

Such illness was truly unfair.

“Sir, it is October twenty-eighth,” Master Li answered respectfully.

Four days remained.

“How far is Anqiu County?”

“The innkeeper says three days by carriage,” Master Li continued.

Tao and the mute nephew immediately shook their heads.

“No, he cannot travel now.”

“Sir, Fourth Uncle has just recovered; he really must not continue.”

Ji Chu understood their worry and shook his head slightly. “We’ll set off early tomorrow.”

His body was gradually recovering, and his mind was calm—unlike the original man’s excessive worry—so he just needed rest.

The original man had struggled so far; he could not afford to falter at the last step.

Master Li hesitated, sharing the concern.

Ji Chu added, “The snow is falling heavier. If we delay, traveling will become impossible.”

As the group’s pillar, he made the decision. No one argued further.

Master Li and Tao sensed something different about this newly awakened Ji Chu—his decisions were firmer.

After taking medicine and eating, Ji Chu fell asleep again, cold and numb at first, but in his dreams, he found warmth nearby.

When he instinctively hugged the warmth like a pillow, the other was startled.

Ji Chu felt much better, warmer through the night. Upon waking, his condition had clearly improved.

Everyone sighed in relief.

The hired coachman said, “The Magistrate is much better now. I’m no longer worried.”

He had been employed to escort the Magistrate to his post; if anything happened on his watch, he’d be finished.

Ji Chu smiled. “Thank you for your hard work. Let’s go.”

Thinking of his parents and siblings—over a dozen people supporting his studies—

Looking at his newlywed wife accompanying him—

And the borderlands just ahead—

He was finally taking office.

He refused to believe he couldn’t persevere.

Ji Chu sat up in the carriage as wheels rolled forward.

The three-day journey was not easy; the further they went, the barer the land.

No wonder such a post would fall to a rootless, unconnected provincial graduate like him.

Others of his rank had already assumed posts in the Quxia Prefecture capital.

He heard that family connections helped secure those positions; though Quxia Prefecture was remote, serving in the capital’s government was still good.

He also heard that Anqiu County was plagued by banditry, so he must be cautious.

The two escorting groups had traveled together for a time and even entrusted official documents through each other.

It wasn’t that the original man didn’t want to make a formal visit himself; he simply lacked the time—any delay would cause him to miss his deadline.

Ji Chu lifted the carriage curtain, seeing fewer and fewer people, vast stretches of barren land—proof that Anqiu County was near.

“We’ve arrived!” the coachman shouted.

Ji Chu rose slightly, looking ahead.

A small frontier town stood not far off, with its bulwark wall linking to the inner city. The earthen-yellow gate appeared gray and muted but stood silently, awaiting newcomers.

The carriage stopped before a stone stele, inscribed from top to bottom with “Anqiu County.”

At last, he had reached his post.

Ji Chu closed his eyes and fainted again.

His final thought was: I am really not this weak!