I woke to the sound of a rooster crowing and immediately tried to check my phone.
My hand grasped at empty air where my nightstand should have been. Instead, I felt rough wooden boards and the coarse fabric of a blanket that smelled faintly of herbs.
*Right. Still here.*
The crushing disappointment was physical. Part of me had been certain that I'd wake up in my studio apartment, that yesterday's impossible experience would fade like any other dream. But the wooden beams above me were still there, and my body still felt like it was made of paper and glass.
"少主 is awake?" Liu Ruyan's voice came from the doorway, soft and tentative.
I turned my head—slowly this time, having learned yesterday that sudden movements were a mistake. She stood there with another bowl of medicinal broth, her expression caught between professional concern and something more personal. Worry, maybe. Or curiosity about whether yesterday's strange episode would repeat itself.
"I'm awake," I confirmed, though my voice came out as a hoarse whisper. "What time is it?"
"The Hour of the Rabbit, 少主. Still early." She entered and set the bowl on the small table beside my bed. "You slept through dinner and the night. This humble one was concerned."
The Hour of the Rabbit. My new memories translated that to sometime between 5 and 7 AM. Another reminder that I wasn't in Kansas anymore—or Seoul, or wherever my old life had been.
"Did anyone ask about me?" I asked, not because I expected concern but because I needed to understand this family's dynamics.
"Your mother visited three times. She sat with you for nearly an hour while you slept." Liu Ruyan helped me sit up with the same patient gentleness she'd shown yesterday. "Your father came once, though he did not stay long. Your eldest brother asked after your health when this one brought dinner to the main hall."
I tried to imagine what kind of person Tie Hanxing had been before I inherited his body. Someone loved, clearly. But also someone whose illness had become so routine that even his recovery merited only cautious hope rather than celebration.
"And you?" I found myself asking. "Did you sleep at all, or were you checking on me all night?"
She paused in the act of reaching for the broth bowl, a faint color rising to her cheeks. "This humble one's duty is to care for 少主."
"That's not an answer."
"No," she admitted quietly. "This one did not sleep well. After yesterday's... episode... there was concern about what might happen while 少主 slept."
Guilt twisted in my chest. This woman—this stranger who somehow knew everything about me—had stayed up worrying because I'd accidentally triggered some mysterious system in my head and given myself a nosebleed.
"I'm sorry," I said. "I didn't mean to worry you."
She looked startled by the apology. "少主 need not apologize to this humble one—"
"Liu Ruyan." I met her eyes. "Yesterday you promised to keep my secrets. That makes us allies, not master and servant. Allies apologize when they cause each other concern."
She stared at me for a long moment, and I saw the exact instant when something shifted in her expression. The servant's mask didn't disappear—years of training were too ingrained for that—but it became more permeable. Like she was deciding whether to trust that I meant what I'd said.
"Then this one accepts 少主's apology," she said carefully. "And offers her own, if her concern was presumptuous."
"It wasn't." I managed a weak smile. "Now, about that broth..."
She fed me again, and I tried not to feel like a child. But my arms were still too weak to hold the bowl steady, and my hands trembled after just a few minutes of trying. In my old life, I'd been sedentary and out of shape, but at least I could feed myself. This body was humbling in ways I was still coming to terms with.
While I ate, I listened to the sounds of the household waking up. Footsteps in distant corridors. The clang of metal from what must be the kitchens. Voices raised in what sounded like an argument, though I couldn't make out the words.
"The family is tense this morning," Liu Ruyan offered, noticing my attention. "There was another meeting last night after 少主 fell asleep. It did not go well."
"The Blood Serpent Gang?"
She nodded. "Your father received a letter yesterday. The gang's leader, Bai Wuchang, is demanding an audience next week. He wishes to... discuss terms."
Even without knowing the full context, I understood the subtext. When a gang leader wanted to "discuss terms" with someone who owed them money, it rarely meant anything good.
"How bad is it really?" I asked. "The family's situation. Yesterday you said it would take a miracle. But what exactly are we facing?"
Liu Ruyan set down the empty bowl and folded her hands in her lap. For a moment, I thought she wouldn't answer—that the question crossed too many lines between master and servant. But then she took a breath and began to speak.
"The Iron Lotus Sect was once one of the five great clans of the Northern Wasteland Region," she said quietly. "We controlled three iron mines, employed fifty master craftsmen, and our weapons were sought after from here to the Central Plains. Your grandfather, Tie Zhengyang, was a third-rate master—a warrior whose name commanded respect."
The past tense hung heavy in the air.
"But the mines... they say the ore veins are running dry, though some whisper that we simply lack the skill to extract what remains efficiently. The craftsmen left because we could no longer pay them competitive wages. And your grandfather died ten years ago in a border skirmish with the Frost Wolf Sect, leaving your father to inherit a clan already in decline."
She glanced toward the door, as if checking for eavesdroppers, before continuing.
"Now we maintain only one mine, which yields perhaps a quarter of what it once did. We employ Master Han and a handful of apprentices in the forge. Our warriors number less than twenty, most of them aging retainers too loyal to leave. And the weapons we produce..." She hesitated.
"Aren't good enough," I finished for her.
"They're serviceable," she said diplomatically. "Strong enough for training, adequate for common guards. But compared to what other clans produce, compared to what we once made... they're inferior. Buyers know this. They pay bottom prices, when they buy from us at all."
"And the Blood Serpent Gang?"
"They moved into the region five years ago. At first, they offered protection from bandits—for a fee. Your father agreed because we'd lost men in several raids and couldn't afford to lose more. But each year the fee increases, and the 'protection' becomes less protection and more..." She searched for the word.
"Extortion," I supplied.
"Yes. This year they want fifty taels of silver. Last year it was twenty-five. The year before, fifteen."
I didn't know exactly how much a tael of silver was worth, but the pattern was clear. Classic protection racket, escalating until the victim couldn't pay, at which point the gang would seize assets as "payment" and leave the family destitute.
"How much silver do we have?"
"Perhaps twelve taels, 少主. And that's counting the emergency reserves your mother has hidden in the clan treasury."
So we were thirty-eight taels short with two weeks to come up with it. In my old world, that would be like owing a loan shark tens of thousands of dollars you didn't have. In this world...
The implications made my chest tight.
"What happens if we can't pay?"
Liu Ruyan's expression darkened. "The gang will take the remaining mine. Perhaps the forge as well. And your elder sister..." She stopped abruptly.
"What about my sister?"
"Bai Wuchang has expressed... interest in Tie Huiyue. He suggested last year that a marriage alliance might reduce the tribute required."
My blood went cold. "You mean he wants to marry her as payment for the debt?"
"He phrased it more diplomatically, but yes. Your father refused, of course. But if we cannot pay..." She didn't need to finish the sentence.
I closed my eyes, processing this information. A desperate family. A predatory gang. A timeline measured in days. And me, trapped in a body so weak I could barely sit up without help.
*But you have something they don't,* a voice whispered in my mind. *You have the Memory Treasure Vault.*
As if summoned by the thought, the translucent text flickered into view:
**[記憶寶庫 - MEMORY TREASURE VAULT]**
**DAILY SEARCHES AVAILABLE: 3/3 (RESET AT DAWN)**
**INTEGRATION STATUS: 41% COMPLETE**
**WARNING: PREVIOUS QUERY EXCEEDED SAFE PARAMETERS**
**RECOMMENDATION: BEGIN WITH FOCUSED, SPECIFIC SEARCHES**
I stared at the interface, trying to understand what I was looking at. Yesterday's search had been accidental, triggered by panic and producing an overwhelming flood of data. But the system was suggesting that focused queries might be safer.
*Test it,* I thought. *Carefully.*
"Liu Ruyan," I said slowly. "I need you to do something for me. And I need you to promise not to react visibly, no matter what happens."
She looked wary but nodded. "This one promises."
"Good. Now, I'm going to try something. If I get another nosebleed, just clean it quietly. Don't call for the physician. Don't panic. Can you do that?"
"Yes, 少主."
I took a deep breath and focused on the system interface. Instead of a vague, panicked thought, I tried to form a specific question.
*Memory Treasure Vault. Query: What is the current state of iron mining technology in medieval Chinese civilizations?*
The response was immediate but different from yesterday. Instead of an overwhelming flood, information arrived in manageable streams. Data about Song Dynasty mining techniques. Descriptions of drainage systems and shaft reinforcement. Sketches of tools and methodologies.
It was still a lot—more information than I could fully process in real-time—but it didn't feel like drowning. More like trying to drink from a fire hose instead of being thrown into a river.
My head ached, and I felt a warm trickle from my nose, but it was manageable. Liu Ruyan immediately produced a cloth and pressed it gently to my face, her expression carefully neutral despite the concern in her eyes.
"What did 少主 just do?" she whispered.
"I asked a question," I said, my voice slightly strained. "And I got an answer."
"From where?"
"I don't know. But I think... I think it might be our miracle."
She pulled back the cloth. The nosebleed was minor, nothing like yesterday's hemorrhage. And the information in my head was already organizing itself, my engineering background automatically sorting data into useful categories.
Medieval Chinese iron mining had been surprisingly sophisticated, but there were inefficiencies. Methods that could be improved with relatively simple innovations. Techniques that had been lost or forgotten that could dramatically increase yield from "exhausted" mines.
*We could fix this,* I realized. *Not all of it. Not quickly. But if I could figure out how to safely extract information from this system, I could help.*
"少主?" Liu Ruyan was watching me with an expression I couldn't quite read. "Your eyes..."
"What about them?"
"They look different. More focused. Like you're seeing something this one cannot."
I met her gaze and made a decision. If I was going to navigate this world, I needed at least one person I could trust completely. And Liu Ruyan had already proven she could keep secrets.
"I can see something you can't," I admitted. "Something that gives me information. Knowledge from... from somewhere else. I don't fully understand it yet, but I think I can learn to use it safely."
She absorbed this with surprising calm. "Is it related to the strange languages you speak when fevered? The words this one doesn't recognize?"
"Yes. I think... I think I have memories that don't belong to this body. Knowledge from a place very far away. And somehow, I can access even more through this... system."
"Is 少主 possessed by a spirit?" She asked it matter-of-factly, without fear or judgment.
The question made me pause. Was I? In a sense, I suppose I was—a foreign soul occupying someone else's body. But that felt too simple, too incomplete an explanation.
"I don't know what I am," I said honestly. "But I know I want to help this family. And I think I might be able to, if I can figure out how to use this gift without killing myself in the process."
Liu Ruyan was quiet for a long moment, studying my face. Then she nodded, as if coming to a decision.
"Then this one will help 少主 learn. We have two weeks before Bai Wuchang's visit. If there is even the smallest chance this... gift... can save the clan, then we must try."
"It won't be safe," I warned. "Yesterday proved that. Every time I use this ability, it costs me something. And I don't know what the long-term consequences might be."
"少主 has been dying slowly his entire life," she said gently. "If you can trade certain death for the mere possibility of danger, isn't that still a better bargain?"
The logic was hard to argue with. And she was right—Tie Hanxing's original trajectory had been a slow decline toward an early grave. Whatever was happening to me now, it at least offered possibilities.
"Alright," I said. "Then we start learning. Carefully. Slowly. No more than one or two queries per day, and only when we have time to process the information properly."
"What should this one do to help?"
I thought about it. "Tell me everything you can about the clan. The people, the politics, the relationships. I have Tie Hanxing's memories, but they're... fragmentary. Like I'm reading someone else's diary. Your perspective would help me understand what I'm seeing."
She nodded and settled into a more comfortable position, clearly preparing for a long conversation. "Where should this one begin?"
"Start with the family. I need to understand them as people, not just as names and relationships."
And so she began to talk, her soft voice filling my chamber with stories and observations. She told me about my father, Tie Shanhe—a once-proud warrior reduced to making impossible choices, trying to balance honor with survival. About my mother, Tie-shi Yalian, who'd married into the clan from a minor noble family and brought with her a dowry that had kept them afloat for years before it ran dry.
She described my eldest brother, Tie Liefeng, whose name meant "fierce wind" and whose temperament matched it—a skilled fighter frustrated by his inability to protect his family through strength alone. My eldest sister, Tie Huiyue, whose sharp mind had kept the family's trading operations alive despite their declining reputation.
And my second brother, Tie Wenxuan, the scholar who'd been studying at Blue Cloud Academy until yesterday's letter had essentially expelled him for non-payment.
"He'll be returning tomorrow," Liu Ruyan said. "Your father sent a messenger this morning to fetch him. There's no point in pretending we can afford another term."
I felt a pang of sympathy for this brother I'd never met. Having your education cut short by family financial problems was something I could relate to, even across the boundary between worlds.
As she talked, I asked questions, building a mental model of the clan's structure and relationships. Who held real power versus nominal authority. Which servants were loyal versus simply employed. What alliances existed with other clans, and which had soured over time.
It was exhausting work, and my head was pounding by the time she finished. But I felt like I was starting to understand the environment I'd been dropped into.
"Thank you," I said when she finally paused. "That helps more than you know."
"Does 少主 have a plan yet?" she asked hopefully.
"Not yet. But I have the beginning of one." I gestured weakly toward the window. "The mine—is it close enough to visit?"
She looked uncertain. "It's half a day's journey by cart, 少主. In your condition..."
"I'm not suggesting we go today. But soon. I need to see it for myself, to understand what we're working with." I paused, considering. "And the forge—that's here in the compound?"
"Yes, in the eastern courtyard. Master Han works there with his three apprentices."
"Good. Tomorrow, when I'm stronger, can you take me there? Just to observe. I'll pretend I'm taking fresh air for my health."
Understanding dawned on her face. "少主 wishes to see the weapons being made."
"I wish to see if the knowledge in my head matches the reality of your world. If I can understand how things work here, maybe I can figure out how to improve them."
She smiled then—a real smile that transformed her plain features into something genuinely pretty. "This one begins to hope, 少主. For the first time in years, this one truly hopes."
Her hope was infectious, even as a voice in the back of my mind warned me not to promise more than I could deliver. I was still figuring out how to sit up without help. The idea that I could somehow save an entire clan from ruin was absurd.
But I had two weeks, a mysterious system in my head, and at least one ally.
It wasn't much. But it was more than Tie Hanxing had yesterday.
After Liu Ruyan left to attend to her other duties, I lay back and stared at the ceiling, thinking. The Memory Treasure Vault interface remained visible at the edge of my vision:
**[記憶寶庫 - MEMORY TREASURE VAULT]**
**DAILY SEARCHES REMAINING: 2/3**
**INTEGRATION STATUS: 43% COMPLETE**
**NEURAL PATHWAYS: STRENGTHENING**
**NOTE: QUERY STRUCTURE IMPROVING. CONTINUE FOCUSED APPROACH.**
*Two more searches today,* I thought. *I should save them for when I actually see the forge and the mine. No point in gathering information about problems I haven't observed yet.*
From the main hall, I could hear my father's voice, heavy with exhaustion: "...send word to the merchant Liu in Frostfang Town. See if he'll buy our spring ore harvest in advance. We need the silver now, not in three months."
My mother's gentler tones replied: "He'll demand a steep discount for early payment, Shanhe. We'll lose half the value..."
"Half of something is better than all of nothing."
The desperation in his voice made my chest ache. These were good people, caught in impossible circumstances, doing their best to survive.
*I might fail,* I thought. *The system might not have the answers I need. I might not be smart enough to translate modern knowledge to medieval applications. I could make everything worse.*
But I had to try.
Tomorrow, I would visit the forge. The day after, maybe I'd be strong enough to make the journey to the mine. And day by day, I'd learn more about this world, about the system, about what I was capable of.
For now, though, I just needed to rest. And maybe, just maybe, accept that this was really happening.
I closed my eyes and tried to imagine what my old life would be doing right now. Probably waking up to another morning of coffee and code, another day of meetings and deadlines that all blurred together into meaningless productivity.
This new life was harder. Scarier. My body was a prison of weakness, and the stakes were measured in human lives rather than quarterly profits.
But for the first time in longer than I could remember, I felt like what I did might actually matter.
That would have to be enough.
---
**[記憶寶庫 - MEMORY TREASURE VAULT]**
**DAILY SEARCHES REMAINING: 2/3**
**INTEGRATION STATUS: 45% COMPLETE**
**USER ADAPTATION: PROGRESSING WITHIN EXPECTED PARAMETERS**
**NEXT MILESTONE: 50% INTEGRATION (ESTIMATED: 36 HOURS)**