Chapter 6

Thus, this dream became increasingly real and increasingly cruel. To Xu Yang, a common cold dragged on for nearly a month before it finally subsided. However, Grandpa Zhang's illness was evidently much more serious than Xu Yang's cold. He lay in bed, his breathing sounding like an old bellows leaking air. He grasped Xu Yang's hand, forbidding him from seeking a doctor any further, trembling as he touched the ten taels of silver that Xu Yang had brought, urging him not to waste money and to keep the silver for himself to live well. He listened to the handsome, tall young man beside him chattering: "Grandpa, I have money. Look, there’s so much here. I will use this silver to hire a good doctor for you, and you will surely live a long life."

Thanks to Mother Xu for urging him to practice calligraphy since childhood, he then bought a pair of earrings for his sister-in-law (thanks to the decadent life of the bourgeoisie, the Rimowa suitcase gifted by my aunt is of excellent quality, it hasn't been crushed even after traveling through time and space, and it is also waterproof and moisture-proof. My dear aunt, I was wrong; I shouldn't have said that it was foolish of you to give me a metal suitcase. You were right, over 7000 is indeed not expensive, and surprisingly, the notebooks inside haven't even been dampened! The quality of German products is truly outstanding!) He bought paper and pens. He learned from the scholar across the street who set up a stall to write letters for people. To be honest, he felt that his handwriting was much better than that of the scholar—how could it not be? The scholars who set up stalls are all poor; although the imperial examination has high requirements for handwriting, how can a poor scholar afford so much paper and pens to practice? Where would they find the money to hire a famous teacher? Even tracing characters is a luxury, so while the stall-holding scholar's handwriting is decent, it is merely decent. Xu Yang's teacher is a contemporary master of calligraphy. He has been writing with a brush since he was four or five years old, and he writes at least a thousand characters every day. Even a piece of rotten wood would have some patterns carved into it; moreover, he indeed has talent, which is why the master accepted him, and he continues to practice. Otherwise, who would spend over ten years on this without reason?

Xu Yang finally obtained a bit of information about this era; how could he let it slip away? He had been here for a while, and although he could not speak, he could barely understand the Yangzhou dialect. Moreover, most of the scholars understood Mandarin, which was clearly influenced by Northern pronunciations in this dynasty. Xu Yang spoke kindly to the scholars, saying he was searching for relatives, and asked if anyone knew the name of Lord Lin, who was called Lin Hai. After receiving confirmation, he inquired whether Lady Lin's surname was Jia, which was not something a few scholars would know. He then asked if Lord Lin was a former top scholar, and this too was confirmed. He further asked if Lord Lin had recently lost his wife, and someone at the neighboring table mentioned that Lord Lin lost his wife at the beginning of last year, and it had been a year and a half since then. After the funeral, most of the household servants had been dismissed, and even the only daughter had been sent to her maternal grandparents' home in the capital for upbringing.

This chapter continues to recount Xu Yang's past. Some readers may not enjoy such details and prefer to swiftly follow the progression of the story. Most authors also tend to briefly mention events prior to the time travel, eager to delve into the main subject after the transition.

Xu Yang gritted his teeth, made a firm decision, and returned home to dismantle that set of "Dream of the Red Chamber." He flipped to the first volume, turned to the page of "Chapter 14: Lin Ruhai Donates the Library in Yangzhou, Jia Baoyu Visits Prince Jing of the North," opened that page, and then forcefully folded the edges of the pages towards the spine of the book. He repeated this process of opening, folding, closing, and reopening for quite a while, confirming that with just a casual flip of the book, he would almost certainly land on that page. Only then did he give Grandpa Zhang some water, tell him he was going to buy something, and tuck the book under the armpit of his trench coat before running towards the Lin residence.

Xu Yang's tears have nearly dried up over these three days. A man does not easily shed tears, yet his family still regards him as a child. At his age, in 21st century China, he can indeed only be considered a child, even though he entered university early. After all, he is only sixteen years old. This child has rapidly matured over the past three months, but essentially, he is still a child. Now, this child is filled with fear and confusion; the only warm support in this world has easily collapsed, turning cold. Xu Yang cries for Zhang Laozhang, but even more so for himself, as darkness envelops him. He loathes this nightmare, which he has long known is not a dream, and he truly can no longer hold on.

I want to write an article seriously, so I aim to minimize any omissions. Of course, it is impossible to have none at all, but I must strive to clearly explain the causes and effects. In the past, I had a significant weakness in my writing, which was details. Therefore, I often wrote short pieces, where a story was composed of fragments, allowing readers to imagine and fill in the gaps. Fortunately, most of my previous writing was fan fiction related to comics, and comics and illustrated books inherently require a sense of leap and imagination, so this weakness of mine was not very apparent. I had a significant weakness in my writing, which was details. Therefore, I often wrote short pieces, where a story was composed of fragments, allowing readers to imagine and fill in the gaps. Fortunately, most of my previous writing was fan fiction related to comics, and comics and illustrated books inherently require a sense of leap and imagination, so this weakness of mine was not very apparent.

The best doctors will attend to Grandpa Zhang, and capable servants will clean the house, cook meals, and do laundry for them. Having been in this inexplicable world for so long, Xu Yang tasted steamed buns made from white flour for the first time, while Grandpa Zhang was covered with a soft cotton quilt. However, joy turned to sorrow; the kind-eyed old doctor had clearly told Grandpa Zhang to take good care of his health and that there was nothing to worry about. Yet, as soon as he turned around, he asked for preparations of Grandpa Zhang's favorite foods and to speak of the things he liked to hear, indicating that it was time to prepare for the end.

***

Having been here for nearly two months, I have gained some understanding of the current dynasty. It is clearly not any dynasty from history, but a peculiar one called "Jiang," which seems to be an alternate history. At this moment, upon hearing the title "Inspector Lin, the Salt Supervisor," Xu Yang naturally associates it with "Dream of the Red Chamber," the most famous alternate history novel in Chinese history.

However, the critical issue is that this is a fan fiction of "Dream of the Red Chamber," which must be detailed... Sigh, this is the first time I am telling a story so methodically; it is truly giving me a headache. I completely dare not skip around. Of course, this is the beginning, and I must clarify everything. Once their lives get on track, I can naturally summarize it in a stroke. But right now, I am really afraid that I might inadvertently turn detail into verbosity, haha

Falling into the lake, I was rescued and found myself in ancient times, taken in by a kind old man. I refused to face reality and caused quite a stir for a while. After falling into the lake, I caught a cold, feeling miserable, and my cold just wouldn't get better. The old grandfather who took care of me had sold almost all the old furniture in the house before I finally recovered. I had to recover; my throat hurt from the corn cakes, and when I got out of bed, I discovered that the house was in a dire state, with only a bed frame and a broken table left. Even if it was a dream, I had to improve my life! At the very least, I should turn this nightmare into a beautiful dream. I had to recover; my throat hurt from the corn cakes, and when I got out of bed, I discovered that the house was in a dire state, with only a bed frame and a broken table left. Even if it was a dream, I had to improve my life! At the very least, I should turn this nightmare into a beautiful dream. Thus, I thought about looking for work, but to my surprise, even wanting to work as a shop assistant required a guarantor. I didn't even have a household registration, and being found out would be a big problem.

However, I always feel that the formation of a person's character is greatly influenced by their environment and the experiences they have gone through. If this is not clearly explained, it truly feels impossible to continue writing. After all, the character Xu Yang that I am writing about is not an all-capable male lead; he is merely an ordinary child with a slightly higher intelligence. Therefore, failing to clarify this really does not align with the essence of the book.

Xu Yang told himself, this is a dream, this is a dream, yet this dream is simply too real

***

He cried, but after he finished crying, he wiped his tears and tried every possible way to make Grandpa Zhang happy. In the morning, he bought him his favorite sesame cake from Wang Pangzi at the street corner. During the day, he pretended to study and told him that he wanted to take the exam... He wanted to ensure that he enjoyed his life and serve him for decades. In the evening, he heated a towel and while wiping his face, he said that he had gone out in the afternoon to write letters for others and earned one hundred wen... Grandpa Zhang listened happily, smiling every day. Xu Yang thought this was quite good; he wanted to ensure that he enjoyed his life and serve him for decades. In the evening, he heated a towel and while wiping his face, he said that he had gone out in the afternoon to write letters for others and earned one hundred wen... Grandpa Zhang listened happily, smiling every day. Xu Yang thought this was quite good; he did not want to and dared not think about the future. He was afraid to think about living all alone in this unfamiliar world. He stubbornly believed that as long as he took good care of Grandpa Zhang, he would definitely get better. Then he could still find a way to return to his parents, even if it meant trying to jump into the lake. Then, on a morning in early winter, he brought in water to wash his face and found that Grandpa Zhang had already passed away.

Worse still, here Xu Yang has completely lost the ability to live independently. If it weren't for his khaki coat, which could easily evoke the image of a monk's robe, and his overly short hair that makes one think he simply hasn't had time to shave it all off, it's likely that a casual inquiry from a street patrol could lead them to treat him as a vagrant. Even though he comes from a Chinese literature background, he understands that the writing skills he takes pride in are utterly nonsensical here. After the watch was taken, he found it difficult to even comprehend the time! Indeed, it is comprehension; the sounds of bells and drums marking the time are certainly not something a post-90s youth can grasp. He knows that the 'Zi' hour is 12 o'clock (a huge mistake!), but he is completely at a loss regarding what time it is during the 'Hai' hour or the 'Xu' hour, utterly confused.

The author has something to say

Upon hearing this, Xu Yang had basically confirmed that this Lin Ruhai was indeed the Lin Ruhai from "Dream of the Red Chamber." In truth, his impulsive rush to the door was quite inappropriate and even dangerous, but he had no time to consider that; Grandpa Zhang was likely on the verge of passing away. Although Xu Yang had been raised in a pampered environment, he was genuinely a good child—one who could be spoiled yet was also caring, delicate yet kind-hearted. He could not bear to see a stranger die in front of him, let alone an elderly man who had devoted nearly two months to taking care of him.

However, the tragedy is that the laboring people clearly do not appreciate him, a former national-level champion in the youth calligraphy category. Most of what he says is incomprehensible to the uncles and aunts who wish to have him write for them, and he also cannot understand what the uncles and aunts are saying. As a result, the paper and brush he bought are mostly used for his own practice.

The medical institutions have their own industry rules; it is likely that if a patient is deemed beyond saving, no one will accept them. Otherwise, if someone dies under treatment, it only takes one or two incidents for a medical institution to be shut down. Of course, these rules primarily target the powerless common people. Xu Yang asked his neighbors to help carry Grandpa Zhang and searched through seven or eight medical institutions, yet not a single one was willing to treat him. Xu Yang spoke all the kind words he could; he has always been likable since childhood, but unfortunately, about seventy to eighty percent of what he said was not understood by the people he approached, rendering even the most pleasant words useless. Seeing Grandpa Xu lying on the bed, struggling to breathe, Xu Yang was utterly despondent.

As a student in the Chinese Department, Xu Yang, despite the fact that "Dream of the Red Chamber" is not to his taste as a young person of the new era, still had to study it earnestly several times, after all, he is in the Chinese Department. Moreover, he had just bought a set for his sister, and while idly passing time on the train, he revisited half of it again.

After a day of running around, Xu Yang no longer dared to trouble Grandpa Zhang, fearing that the wind would worsen his illness. Since he had earned some money, he was not stingy at this moment. He took out several hundred coins to hire Aunt Gu from the neighborhood to help with laundry and cooking every day. The next morning, he served the elderly man breakfast and asked Aunt Zhang for help in looking after him, while he pocketed some silver to continue seeking a doctor. He visited several doctors, but as soon as they heard it was the family of Old Zhang and saw his monk-like attire, they recognized him as the patient who had been rejected by another clinic the day before. Regardless of how many taels of silver he offered, they all refused. Having only had a bit of corn porridge for breakfast, he left the house feeling famished, his stomach pressing against his back. As fate would have it, he passed by a teahouse and, unable to bear his thirst, went in and ordered a large pot of the cheapest tea for five wen. He poured himself three cups and drank them down in quick succession. While he was resting, he overheard a scholar at the next table mention how the salt inspector, Lord Lin, was doing...

The roof leaks just as the night rain falls, and it seems that he was exhausted; Grandpa Zhang suddenly fell ill. Xu Yang was momentarily stunned. Heaven have mercy, although he had earned two and a half taels of silver from the small jewelry he was to send to his sister-in-law, after deducting the expenses for paper and ink and the money he had forcibly given to Grandpa Zhang for living expenses, he was left with only a few coins. What else could he sell? The scarf for his mother, although it was indeed expensive when purchased, was merely a piece of oddly patterned fabric here. Xu Yang was momentarily stunned. Heaven have mercy, although he had earned two and a half taels of silver from the small jewelry he was to send to his sister-in-law, after deducting the expenses for paper and ink and the money he had forcibly given to Grandpa Zhang for living expenses, he was left with only a few coins. What else could he sell? The scarf for his mother, although it was indeed expensive when purchased, was merely a piece of oddly patterned fabric here. What about the lighter for his father? Damn it! What a so-called world-famous brand; it was just a time-traveling experience, right? Even the notebook in the suitcase had not yet been sacrificed, and your lighter is not even high-tech, yet it has decided to stop working! ... The earrings for his sister-in-law had already been pawned, and the gloves for his brother were given to him a few days ago after seeing Grandpa Zhang's hands chapped from work. ... Even the notebook in the suitcase had not yet been sacrificed, and your lighter is not even high-tech, yet it has decided to stop working! ... The earrings for his sister-in-law had already been pawned, and the gloves for his brother were given to him a few days ago after seeing Grandpa Zhang's hands chapped from work. ... Wuwu, Grandpa Zhang is truly a good person; he has taken care of me for so many days, and I was only able to give him a pair of gloves, yet he was so happy. In the end, Xu Yang pawned the Vacheron Constantin that his beloved aunt had given him, and he only received ten taels of silver.

Everything that followed felt more like a dream. From the moment he saw Lin Ruhai, Xu Yang began to spiral into a state of self-destructive loss of control. He even contemplated the possibility that Lin Ruhai might simply treat him as a fraud and have him arrested, or perhaps, due to some taboo regarding his background, decide to eliminate him altogether. Fortunately, he had made the right bet.

Xu Yang has been pampered since childhood, with his family loving him dearly. He is good-looking, intelligent, and naturally excels in his studies. His teachers at school like him, and his classmates are close to him. He has smoothly grown up to the age of sixteen, and in the next semester, he will be in his fourth year. While other students are either anxious about employment or dizzy from preparing for graduate school entrance exams, Xu Yang's situation is different. The matter of being recommended for graduate school has long been settled, and he has no immediate survival pressure. He enjoys writing small pieces, has a good writing style, and earns about four to five thousand each month from articles submitted to magazines and websites, along with a serialized work that is somewhat popular on a literary site. Coupled with the three thousand yuan monthly allowance from his parents and various entertainment items sent by his aunt, he finds himself in a comfortable position. All his peers at home are older than him, and when they visit, they always bring gifts and stuff money into his pockets when they leave. Although he has not officially started working, he does not spend recklessly. His income is varied, and without realizing it, he has accumulated over a hundred thousand yuan in his small savings, most of which comes from New Year's money, along with some he has earned himself. Growing up, he may not have spent money as extravagantly as some rich second-generation individuals, but Xu Yang has never worried about money. However, recently, he has truly experienced hardships that could last a lifetime. He has been eating coarse cornmeal buns to the point where his throat hurts, and for nearly two months, he has not had a bite of meat. During the most uncomfortable times of his illness, even wanting to drink a bowl of noodle soup felt like a luxury.