"Xiao E, feel your father-in-law's breath."
"Father-in-law, father-in-law he…he…seems to be dead…"
Just as the words fell, a burst of wailing came from the room.
Zhao Zheng suddenly woke up and opened his eyes.
He saw two ragged, pale-faced women kneeling in front of the bed.
The two women looked like they had just reached adulthood. Although they were pale and thin, they had excellent figures with curvaceous bodies. They would definitely look good after dressing up!
Wait!
What did they call him just now?
Father-in-law? ? ?
Everyone knows that he is single and a wealthy bachelor. How could he have such an old daughter-in-law! At this moment, a huge memory suddenly flooded into his mind!
In an instant, he understood what was going on.
Damn it!
At a young age, I'd amassed a multi-millionaire fortune and become the CEO of a publicly listed company. My good days were just beginning when, staying up late reading historical novels, I traveled back in time to a place resembling the ancient Chinese (o_o) dynasty of Dakang. I found myself in the body of a middle-aged widower with the same name and surname, recently widowed.
My original self was nearly forty years old.
A few months earlier, my two sons had been forcibly drafted into the military, becoming cannon fodder. The two young women before me were their wives yet to marry.
Furthermore, my original self was ill, and these two sons were adopted, not blood relatives.
After absorbing this information, Zhao Zheng felt like the sky had fallen!
Damn it!
Other souls were young, but how could I be a middle-aged man in my place?
And my mother had skipped marriage and children, leaving them to be raised by others.
That would have been fine, but these two short-lived children died on the battlefield before they could even enjoy a single day of peace.
Zhao Zheng was filled with despair.
"I must have drunk too much yesterday and hallucinated."
He closed his eyes again!
"Father-in-law, wake up!"
The eldest daughter-in-law, Yang Zhaodi, desperately shook him, while the second daughter-in-law, Zhang XiaoE, wept beside him.
In their eyes, their father-in-law was their last straw, even though he was a bad-tempered, timid old man with a penchant for alcohol.
But their husbands had already died in the war, and in this famine, if he died again, without a man to support the family, they would surely starve to death.
By then, many villagers had gathered in the courtyard outside the house to watch the excitement.
"Old Zhao, that idiot, listened to his brother and gave him all the war pension money for his son, asking him to find him a wife. His brother took the money and found one for himself.
He was so angry he went to ask for an explanation, but his brother and nephew beat him to a pulp. He's probably going to die."
"He can't even afford to eat, and he's still thinking about getting married. Everyone knows he can't have children and is a good-for-nothing, good-for-nothing?"
"If you ask me, it's his own fault. He's been tricked so many times by his brother, and he still fell for it. His own life is so difficult, and he's still relying on his brothers."
These people, who were eager to watch the show, were shouting louder and louder, almost pissing Zhao Zheng off.
He couldn't bear it any longer and inwardly accepted the reality of his time travel. He decided to make the best of it, and slowly opened his eyes.
"Father-in-law, you're not dead. You're finally awake!"
Yang Zhaodi cried even harder.
Zhao Zheng sighed. Although his former self had treated them harshly, once they married into the Zhao family, they became members. In ancient times, without a man in the house, they couldn't survive.
Furthermore, in ancient times, the father-in-law was the true head of the household.
Composing himself, he said, "Xiao'e, go close the door."
The incessant chatter outside was making his mind explode.
Zhang Xiao'e came to her senses, wiped her tears, and stood up to close the gate. The crowd of onlookers slowly dispersed.
Calming down a bit, Zhao Zheng took in his surroundings: adobe walls, muddy ground, thatched huts, and two large holes in the roof, letting in a cold draft.
Even in the dead of winter, the two beautiful daughters-in-law were wearing thin summer clothes, patched upon patched. In the bitter cold, their bare feet treading the ground, their hands and feet icy and purple, making them look like beggars.
Poor, so poor.
The family couldn't even afford two complete sets of clothing.
The only decent outfit they wore was their own.
In the room was a hard bed made of planks, a mattress smothered in oil .
A few broken bowls and a clay pot for cooking—the family's belongings.
While their son was alive, the entire family slept on this bed. After his son died in battle, his daughter-in-law left him alone, while the two women slept on straw on the floor, often waking from the cold.
Touching the large bump on his head, he felt a surge of rage.
This vengeance must be avenged.
Even if the culprit was his previous life's eldest brother!
However, he was now wounded, starving, and desperate for food.
"Is there any food at home?"
"Father-in-law, that's the last of our family's rations. Please don't send it to my uncle's house," Zhang Xiao'e pleaded, accepting even the beatings and scoldings from her father-in-law.
"No more, never again!" Zhao Zheng said. He had never been so hungry before.
Yang Zhaodi took out a pancake from a jar and handed it over.
Zhao Zheng took it and stuffed it into his mouth.
It was harder than stone.
Not only did it hurt his teeth, it also cut his throat.
It was made of corn, rice bran and some dried wild vegetables.
In his previous life, he would not even be interested in tasting it.
But now, it is the treasure that their family depends on for survival.
Gurgle!
Looking at the daughters-in-law who kept swallowing their saliva, Zhao Zheng sighed, broke the pancake in his hand and handed it over.
But the two girls subconsciously curled up and hugged their heads, thinking that Zhao Zheng was going to hit them.
What a sin.
He could attack such a well-behaved and sensible daughter-in-law. He was simply a beast.
He simply set the other half of the dry biscuit aside and said, "I'm full, you guys eat."
He drank another bellyful of water, and finally felt better. He picked up the only axe hidden under the bed, stood up, and walked out.
The two women looked at him in disbelief.
Yang Zhaodi bravely asked, "Father-in-law, where are you going?"
"We're out of firewood. The temperature has dropped sharply these past few days, and I'm afraid it will snow. Without firewood, we won't be able to make it through the night."
Zhao Zheng also figured it out. Since he was here, he might as well make the best of it. As the father-in-law and the only male in the family, he had to shoulder his responsibilities.
Firewood, rice, oil, salt, sauce, vinegar, and tea.
Why firewood first?
Because the firewood is needed for cooking and heating.
Rich families, on the other hand, burn charcoal.
A pound of charcoal costs dozens of coins, which they simply can't afford.
Without firewood, they can only wait to die in winter.
He left the house and walked towards the back mountain as he remembered.
The cold wind was biting, scratching his face painfully.
Since the year before last, not a drop of rain had fallen. The earth cracked, rivers dried up, and crops were barren for miles. Not to mention wild vegetables, even the bark of the trees had been gnawed away.
The mountains and plains were bare, without a single blade of grass.
All the firewood available nearby had been cut.
It would take him at least an hour's walk to reach the unowned forests to chop wood.
As for the owned forests, they were guarded. If caught, a beating would be considered the best punishment, but if killed, no one would care.
It took Zhao Zheng over an hour to reach the spot.
Villagers were already there, chopping wood.
Seeing Zhao Zheng approach, many teased him, but Zhao Zheng ignored them.
Then, he selected a dry, slender tree, picked up his blunt axe, and began to chop.
At that moment, a mechanical voice suddenly rang in his ears:
[Ding! You chopped down ten pounds of wood!]
...
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