By the sixth morning, I stopped trying to wake up from the dream.
The acceptance didn't come with any dramatic revelation or emotional catharsis. It was simply that my body's weakness felt too persistent, too detailed, too exhaustingly real to be imaginary. Dreams didn't include the specific ache of atrophied muscles or the frustration of needing help to use a chamber pot.
I was Tie Hanxing now. Or rather, I was whoever I was becoming—some hybrid of the software engineer who'd died at his desk and the sickly boy whose body I now inhabited.
"少主 seems different this morning," Liu Ruyan observed as she helped me into a thick padded robe. The weather had turned colder overnight, and even inside my chambers, I could see my breath misting in the air.
"Different how?"
"Less distant. More... here." She adjusted the robe's collar with practiced efficiency. "As if 少主 has stopped fighting something."
Perceptive as always. I'd noticed over the past few days that Liu Ruyan missed very little. She moved through the household like smoke—present but easily overlooked—and people spoke freely around her in a way they never would around family members.
"I suppose I have," I admitted. "Fighting doesn't change reality. Only adaptation does."
She smiled at that, a quick flash of approval before the servant's mask returned. "This one is glad. Now, 少主 asked yesterday to visit the forge today. Do you still wish to go?"
"Yes. But let's wait until after the morning meal, when most people are occupied with their duties. I'd rather not draw attention."
"As 少主 wishes."
She left to fetch my breakfast, and I used the privacy to experiment with the Memory Treasure Vault again. Over the past few days, I'd been testing it cautiously, learning its quirks and limitations through trial and error.
The system's interface had become clearer as the "integration" percentage increased. Currently sitting at 62%, I'd noticed distinct improvements in how information was delivered. Early queries had been overwhelming data dumps. Now the system seemed to understand context better, organizing information in ways that were actually useful.
*Query: Basic principles of traditional Chinese blacksmithing techniques, suitable for someone with no hands-on experience.*
The response came as a structured flow of knowledge—not overwhelming, but comprehensive. Descriptions of forge temperatures and their visual indicators. The sound a properly heated metal makes when struck. How to identify quality in finished blades through balance and flex. Enough information to observe intelligently without pretending to expertise I didn't have.
A dull ache built behind my eyes, but no nosebleed this time. The system's warning had been accurate—focused queries were safer. I'd learned to treat my three daily searches like a limited resource, planning carefully rather than using them impulsively.
**[記憶寶庫 - MEMORY TREASURE VAULT]**
**DAILY SEARCHES REMAINING: 2/3**
**INTEGRATION STATUS: 63% COMPLETE**
**QUERY EFFICIENCY: IMPROVING**
**NOTE: USER DEMONSTRATING STRATEGIC RESTRAINT. OPTIMAL USAGE PATTERN DETECTED.**
Liu Ruyan returned with rice porridge and pickled vegetables. My appetite had been improving each day as my body adjusted to... whatever was happening to it. Whether that was the system's integration, my soul settling into this flesh, or simply natural recovery from the fever, I couldn't say.
"There's news from the main hall," she said quietly as she arranged the food. "Your brother Tie Wenxuan arrived early this morning from the academy."
"Wenxuan?" The name triggered a cascade of fragmentary memories. My second brother, three years older, who'd been studying literature and philosophy at Blue Cloud Academy. "He's home?"
"Yes. He arrived before dawn and went directly to speak with your parents. The conversation was..." She paused delicately. "Loud."
I could imagine. Being forced to abandon your education because your family couldn't afford the fees would make anyone angry. And from what I'd gathered about Wenxuan through Liu Ruyan's stories, he was the intellectual of the family—someone who valued knowledge for its own sake.
*We might have that in common,* I thought.
"Is he still with them?"
"He left the main hall about an hour ago. This one saw him heading toward the library pavilion. He looked... troubled."
The library. Tie Hanxing's memories provided an image of a small building near the eastern courtyard, filled with the clan's collection of texts on martial techniques, family history, and classical literature. Not impressive by any standard, but treasured nonetheless.
"After we visit the forge," I said, making a decision, "I'd like to see my brother."
Liu Ruyan looked surprised. "少主 has not sought company with any family member since awakening."
"I know. But I think it's time to start." If I was going to help this family, I needed to understand them as individuals, not just as names and relationships. And Wenxuan, as a fellow scholar of sorts, might be easier to connect with than my warrior brother or merchant sister.
After I finished eating, Liu Ruyan helped me to my feet. The simple act of standing was still exhausting, but less so than a week ago. My body was gradually remembering how to function, or perhaps learning to accommodate its new occupant.
We made our way slowly through the compound, Liu Ruyan supporting much of my weight while making it look like she was simply being attentive. The household was busy with morning activities—servants moving between buildings, the clang of kitchen work, the distant sound of practice weapons from the training yard.
And everywhere we went, people stared.
I'd noticed it before but dismissed it as natural curiosity about the sickly young master finally leaving his chambers. But today, perhaps because I was paying more attention, I recognized the quality of those stares.
The female servants in particular. Their eyes would widen slightly when they saw me, and several actually walked into walls or dropped what they were carrying. One young maid blushed so deeply I thought she might faint.
"Liu Ruyan," I murmured. "Why is everyone staring like that?"
She didn't answer immediately, and when I glanced at her, I caught something complex in her expression. Resignation, maybe, mixed with a possessiveness she tried to hide.
"少主 has always been..." She searched for words. "Pleasing to look upon. Your features are refined, almost ethereal. The household has always remarked upon it."
"But?"
"But since your fever broke, the effect seems... stronger. As if you had been hidden behind a veil that has now lifted. This one has heard several maids comparing 少主 to the moon goddess or winter stars."
I processed this, remembering fragments of Tie Hanxing's memories. Yes, he'd been considered beautiful—sometimes uncomfortably so. In a world where martial prowess defined masculine worth, his delicate features had been another mark of inadequacy. Men weren't supposed to be beautiful; they were supposed to be strong.
But apparently, beauty still affected people, regardless of gender norms.
"Does it help us or hurt us?" I asked pragmatically.
Liu Ruyan blinked at the question, clearly not expecting such a direct response. "This one... doesn't know. It makes people want to help 少主. To protect you. But it also makes them underestimate you. They see a fragile flower, not a..."
"Not a what?"
"Not whatever 少主 is becoming," she finished quietly.
We reached the eastern courtyard where the forge stood. It was a large stone building with a chimney that leaked thin smoke. Even from outside, I could hear the rhythmic clang of hammer on metal and feel the heat bleeding from the open doors.
"Master Han is working," Liu Ruyan said unnecessarily. "Should this one announce 少主?"
"No. Let's just observe quietly. I want to see the process without interrupting."
We entered through a side door that led to a small observation area—probably once used for teaching apprentices. The forge proper stretched before us, dominated by a massive stone hearth where coals glowed orange-red. An elderly man worked at an anvil, his hammer rising and falling with practiced rhythm as he shaped a bar of glowing metal.
Master Han Tiejiang. Even without Tie Hanxing's memories, I would have recognized the master craftsman in his bearing. His movements had the efficiency of decades of practice, each strike precisely placed, each angle deliberately chosen.
But as I watched, drawing on the knowledge I'd just queried from the Memory Treasure Vault, I began to see the inefficiencies. The forge temperature was uneven—hotter on one side than the other, likely due to poor airflow. The metal he was working showed visible scale and oxidation, suggesting the heating process was too slow or too exposed to air. His hammer strikes were consistent, but the metal's response suggested he was working it at slightly wrong temperatures.
None of these were catastrophic problems. The blade taking shape would be functional, serviceable. But it would also be exactly what Liu Ruyan had described—adequate but not exceptional. Bottom-tier work that commanded bottom-tier prices.
*Could be improved,* I thought, my engineer's mind automatically cataloging solutions. *Better forge design for even heat distribution. Proper flux to prevent oxidation. Temperature control through visual cues and timing. All achievable with medieval technology.*
But knowing what needed to change and being able to implement those changes were very different things. I was a weak seventeen-year-old with no credibility and no practical smithing experience. Master Han had been forging for decades. Why would he listen to me?
"See something interesting, 少主?" Liu Ruyan whispered.
"Problems," I murmured back. "And possible solutions. But I'm not sure how to—"
"Young Master Hanxing?"
We both turned. A young man had entered the observation area, perhaps twenty years old, wearing a leather apron covered in soot and metal filings. One of the apprentices, judging by his age and attire.
"Forgive this one's interruption," he said, bowing respectfully. "Master Han asked if Young Master requires anything? He knows your health is delicate and worries the forge heat might be too much."
I studied the apprentice, noting the genuine concern in his expression. Another person affected by Tie Hanxing's reputation as the fragile young master.
"Please tell Master Han I'm quite comfortable," I said. "I'm merely taking some air as the physician recommended. The warmth is pleasant, actually."
The apprentice bowed again and returned to the forge floor, speaking quietly to Master Han. The old smith glanced our way, his weathered face creasing with concern, but he nodded and returned to his work.
"They worry for you," Liu Ruyan observed.
"Everyone worries for me. It's exhausting." I watched Master Han work for a few more minutes, then made a decision. "Liu Ruyan, would Master Han be offended if I asked questions about his craft? Simple ones, framed as curiosity from an invalid with too much time to think?"
She considered this. "Master Han is proud of his work, but he's also kind. He might welcome the interest, especially from the young master. Why?"
"Because I need to learn how things work here before I can suggest improvements. And asking simple questions is less threatening than claiming expertise I don't have."
Understanding dawned in her eyes. "少主 plans to help improve the forge's output?"
"Eventually. But first, I need to build relationships. Trust. Understanding." I turned away from the forge. "Come, let's go find my brother Wenxuan. I think it's time I started acting like part of this family."
We made our way to the library pavilion, a modest two-story structure that had seen better days. Several roof tiles were missing, and the wooden steps creaked ominously under our weight.
Inside, the air smelled of old paper and mustiness. Shelves lined the walls, filled with bound texts and scrolls that represented the clan's accumulated knowledge. It wasn't impressive—maybe a few hundred volumes total—but in a medieval world, even this constituted significant wealth.
Tie Wenxuan sat at a desk near the window, a book open before him, but he wasn't reading. His posture radiated dejection—shoulders slumped, head bowed, one hand covering his eyes.
He looked up at the sound of our footsteps, and I got my first clear look at my second brother. He had the Tie family features—strong bones, dark eyes—but where Tie Liefeng's face was all warrior aggression, Wenxuan's held a gentler intelligence. The face of someone who preferred books to blades.
"Hanxing?" He stood quickly, genuine concern crossing his features. "What are you doing out of bed? Your health—"
"Is better than it's been in months," I interrupted gently. "Thank you for asking, Second Brother."
He stared at me, and I saw the exact moment when his concern shifted to confusion. I'd used the formal address—Second Brother—but my tone had been... different. More present. More aware.
"You seem..." He trailed off, clearly unsure how to finish.
"Different?" I supplied with a slight smile. "I've been hearing that. May I sit? Standing is still somewhat challenging."
"Of course, of course." He quickly cleared a chair, helping Liu Ruyan settle me into it. His hands were ink-stained, I noticed. The hands of a scholar.
"I heard you returned from Blue Cloud Academy this morning," I said once I was seated. "That must have been difficult."
His expression darkened. "Father summoned me. Said there was no point in pretending we could afford another term." Bitterness crept into his voice. "Three years of study, and I have nothing to show for it. No degree, no recommendations, no prospects."
"You have knowledge," I pointed out. "That has value regardless of certificates."
"Knowledge is worthless if you can't use it." He gestured at the books surrounding us. "What good is understanding literature and philosophy when your family is being crushed by debt? When gang leaders make threats and all you can do is read about ancient heroes instead of being one?"
The self-loathing in his voice was painfully familiar. I'd felt similar frustrations in my old life—the sense of being educated but powerless, knowing things but unable to change anything that mattered.
"Second Brother," I said carefully, "what did you study at the academy? Beyond the classics, I mean."
He looked surprised by the question. "Why do you ask?"
"Because I'm curious. And because I think you might be more useful to this family than you realize."
He studied me for a long moment, clearly trying to reconcile this Tie Hanxing with the one he'd known before. Finally, he sighed and sat down.
"Economics, primarily. Trade theory. Record-keeping and accounting. The academy offered these as practical courses for students who lacked the talent or resources for high-level martial cultivation." He said it with shame, as if practical knowledge was somehow inferior to fighting skills.
But my heart had started beating faster. Economics. Trade theory. Accounting. These were exactly the skills needed to help manage the clan's financial crisis.
"That sounds incredibly valuable," I said. "Especially now."
"Valuable?" He laughed bitterly. "Father barely listened when I tried to explain our cash flow problems. Eldest Brother thinks the solution to everything is hitting it harder. And Elder Sister..." He paused, more carefully. "Huiyue understands trade, but she's too busy managing our actual business to worry about theoretical models."
"What if they're not just theoretical?" I leaned forward slightly, ignoring the protest from my weak back. "You understand how money flows through an organization. You can probably see problems that warriors and merchants miss because they're too close to the daily operations."
"Even if that's true, no one will listen to me. I'm the failed scholar who couldn't even finish his degree."
"They might listen to both of us together."
He blinked. "What?"
"You have economic knowledge. I have..." I paused, choosing my words carefully. "I have a different perspective. An outsider's view combined with... insights that might prove useful. If we worked together—"
"Hanxing, you're barely strong enough to leave your bed. Not that I mean to be cruel, but how can you possibly help?"
It was a fair question, asked without malice. And it gave me an opening to test how much I could reveal.
"Tell me something, Second Brother. What do you see when you look at me?"
He seemed taken aback by the question. "I... I see my youngest brother. Someone who's been sick his whole life. Someone who..." He struggled with honesty versus kindness.
"Someone who was more or less waiting to die," I finished for him. "Yes. But what if I told you that something changed when my fever broke? That I see things differently now. Understand things I shouldn't. Have knowledge from..." I hesitated. "From somewhere else."
Wenxuan's expression shifted to concern. "Are you saying you're possessed? That some spirit—"
"I don't know what I'm saying," I interrupted. "Only that I'm different now, and that difference might help our family. If you're willing to work with me despite not understanding how or why."
He was quiet for a long time, his scholarly mind clearly working through the implications. Finally, he spoke.
"At the academy, there was a saying: 'When drowning, grasp any branch.' Our family is drowning, Hanxing. If you have even the smallest branch to offer..." He met my eyes. "Then I'll help you, strange as this all seems."
Relief washed over me. I had my first real ally within the family—someone with relevant knowledge and, more importantly, someone who was desperate enough to take me seriously.
"Thank you, Second Brother. I promise I'll explain more as I understand it myself." I glanced at Liu Ruyan, who'd been standing quietly throughout the conversation. "For now, I need both of you to help me learn. About the clan, about our operations, about everything."
"What exactly are you planning?" Wenxuan asked.
"Honestly? I'm not sure yet. But I have two weeks before the Blood Serpent Gang returns, and I have access to knowledge that might help. What I need is to understand our situation well enough to know which pieces of knowledge to apply."
Wenxuan leaned back in his chair, studying me with new interest. "You really are different. The Hanxing I knew barely had the energy to speak full sentences, much less discuss strategy."
"The Hanxing you knew was dying. I'm..." I searched for the right words. "I'm trying to live instead. And trying to take everyone else with me."
He smiled at that—a real smile, the first I'd seen from him. "Alright then, little brother. Where do we start?"
I spent the next hour asking Wenxuan questions about the clan's finances, operations, and relationships. He pulled out ledgers and records, walking me through income and expenses with the precision of someone who'd studied accounting. The picture that emerged was even worse than I'd feared.
The clan was operating at a significant monthly deficit. Income from the mine and forge barely covered operating costs, leaving nothing for debt repayment or unexpected expenses. They'd been surviving by selling assets—land, weapons, family heirlooms—but that well was running dry.
"We have perhaps three months before we can't pay our own people," Wenxuan said grimly. "The Blood Serpent Gang is just the most immediate problem. Even if we somehow satisfied them, we're still heading toward collapse."
"Unless we increase revenue or decrease costs. Preferably both."
"Obviously. But how? We can't make the mine produce more ore. We can't make our weapons competitive with better-equipped clans. We can't—"
"What if we could?" I interrupted. "What if there were ways to improve efficiency? To get more from existing resources?"
"Like what?"
I thought about the knowledge in my head—centuries of engineering and manufacturing innovations that could be adapted to medieval technology. But I couldn't just announce that I had access to future knowledge.
"I've been thinking about it," I said carefully. "During all those days in bed with nothing to do but think. And I've had some ideas. About the forge, about the mine, about how we manage resources. Ideas that might sound strange but could work if we tested them carefully."
Wenxuan looked skeptical but interested. "Such as?"
"Such as... what if the forge temperature inconsistency I observed today could be fixed with better airflow design? What if we could reduce metal oxidation during heating with certain mineral additives? What if—"
"Wait." Wenxuan held up a hand. "You observed forge temperature inconsistency? You understand metallurgy?"
I'd revealed too much, too quickly. But I was committed now.
"I understand principles," I said carefully. "I don't have practical experience, but I can see patterns. See where efficiency is being lost. It's like..." I grasped for a metaphor that would make sense. "Like reading a poem and noticing where the meter is off, even if you've never written poetry yourself."
He nodded slowly, processing this. "So you want to suggest improvements to Master Han? He's been smithing for forty years, Hanxing. He's not likely to welcome advice from a seventeen-year-old invalid."
"Which is why I need your help. And Elder Sister's, eventually. I can't implement changes myself—I can barely walk unassisted. But if I can identify problems and solutions, and you can help me present them to the right people in the right way..."
"You're talking about rebuilding the clan's operations from the ground up."
"I'm talking about surviving the next two weeks. Everything else can wait."
Wenxuan was quiet for a long moment, staring at the ledgers spread across the desk. When he finally spoke, his voice was thoughtful.
"The Blood Serpent Gang wants fifty taels of silver. If we could somehow produce weapons good enough to command premium prices, and if we could sell enough of them quickly... it's theoretically possible to raise that much. But the timeline is impossibly tight."
"What if we focused on a small number of exceptional pieces rather than volume? Something so impressive it commands extraordinary prices from the right buyers?"
"You mean custom work? Master pieces?" He considered it. "The profit margin would be higher, but the risk... if we put all our resources into a few high-quality pieces and they don't sell, we've wasted time and materials we can't afford to lose."
"But if they do sell?"
"If they do sell at the prices we'd need..." He did quick mental calculations. "It might actually work. But we'd need pieces good enough to attract serious buyers. Weapons that would compete with what the famous clans produce."
"So we need Master Han to create his best work. Better than his best work, actually."
"And how do you propose we convince him to do that?"
I smiled, feeling pieces of a plan starting to come together. "By giving him knowledge he didn't know he was missing. Carefully. Respectfully. In ways that let him think the improvements are his own ideas."
"You're talking about manipulation."
"I'm talking about survival. And about helping a master craftsman achieve what he's always been capable of but never had the tools to accomplish."
Wenxuan studied me for a long moment, then shook his head with something like wonder. "Who are you really, little brother?"
"I'm Tie Hanxing," I said, and realized I meant it. Not the Tie Hanxing who'd lived here before, and not entirely the software engineer from another world, but something new. Someone who could maybe—just maybe—save this family.
"I'm your brother. And together, we're going to make sure this clan survives."
Outside the library windows, the afternoon sun was starting to descend toward the western mountains. I had used only one Memory Treasure Vault search today, leaving two for tomorrow. I had made allies in Liu Ruyan and Wenxuan. And I had the beginning of a plan.
It wasn't much. But it was more than we'd had yesterday.
And tomorrow, I would start putting it into action.
---
**[記憶寶庫 - MEMORY TREASURE VAULT]**
**DAILY SEARCHES REMAINING: 2/3**
**INTEGRATION STATUS: 67% COMPLETE**
**USER ADAPTATION: EXCELLENT PROGRESS**
**SOCIAL NETWORK: EXPANDING**
**STRATEGIC PLANNING: INITIATED**
**NOTE: USER TRANSITION FROM ADAPTATION TO ACTION PHASE DETECTED**