"Zhao Shan collapsed!"
"Someone help! Zhao Shan's not going to make it..."
On the river excavation work site, three men shouted loudly. Lying on the ground beside them was a young man with purple lips and a sallow, waxy face.
"What's all the shouting? Get back to work!"
The foreman walked over with his hands behind his back, his face dark.
"Master Wu, Zhao Shan was moving stones and just suddenly fell to the ground," a bald-headed laborer answered.
"I saw this morning that he didn't look well," another laborer said. "I asked how he was, and he said he was fine. I didn't expect this to happen."
The foreman jutted his chin, gesturing for the bald man to check. "See if he's still breathing."
"He is..."
The bald laborer checked Zhao Shan's breath. He was about to touch his forehead but saw that Zhao Shan's face was covered in blisters, several of which were festering. He snatched his hand back in fright.
"Master Wu, Zhao Shan's face is all festered."
"What damn bad luck!"
The foreman backed away in disgust and called over a bailiff. "Go get the coroner."
The bailiff left to carry out the order. Seeing the few laborers still standing around dumbly, the foreman snapped, "What are you gawking at? You think you're doctors?"
The laborers exchanged glances and went back to work.
Before long, the bailiff returned with the coroner.
The coroner asked about the situation, then squatted down to take Zhao Shan's pulse.
The laborers and convicts whispered among themselves, glancing over from time to time.
The foreman walked over and asked in a deliberately loud voice, "Well? Can he be saved?"
The coroner sighed. "I'm afraid not."
"But... he was fine just yesterday."
"The cold has invaded his body, and that combined with chronic fatigue has made him gravely ill. His constitution is completely ruined. I'm afraid... you should have his family come for him."
...
「Before sunset.」
When Zhao Shan saw his younger brother at the stockade gate, he almost didn't recognize him.
Zhao Lin wasn't just taller; he was also more robust. His expression was calm, and he exuded an air of vitality.
"Brother, it's only been a month. How have you changed so much? You're like a different person."
Although Zhao Lin knew his brother couldn't possibly know he was a transmigrator, his heart still skipped a beat. 'I really *am* a different person,' he thought. 'You just never realized it.'
"Have I changed?"
He touched his cheek and smiled. "I was about to say the same about you, brother."
"I had to look like this to get out."
Zhao Shan shook his head with a wry smile. "They gave me some kind of medicine—I had to eat half and apply the other half. It's what made me look this hideous."
Speaking of which, Zhao Shan finally asked the question that had been weighing on his mind all day. "Brother, how much money did it take to get me out?"
Zhao Lin answered vaguely, "Not much. I ran into a benefactor."
He decided to keep it a secret for now. He had already spoken with Qian Sanming, who promised not to tell anyone else.
The origin of that money was questionable; the fewer people who knew about it, the better.
"Not much?"
Zhao Shan looked suspicious. A sudden possibility occurred to him. "You didn't take out a high-interest loan, did you? Let me tell you..."
Zhao Lin quickly cut him off. "Don't worry, brother. Absolutely not."
"Then did you sell our family's fields?"
"How much could we possibly get for those few barren acres? Besides, no one's buying land right now."
Zhao Shan studied his brother's expression. Seeing that Zhao Lin didn't seem to be hiding any worries, he relaxed a little and asked about their parents.
The two of them talked and laughed. When they were not far from the village, Zhao Lin said to his brother, "Brother, get on the cart and lie down. Don't let anyone see you can walk."
When Zhao Lin had come to pick up his brother, he had borrowed a flatbed cart from a village elder.
"Alright."
Zhao Shan understood the stakes and obediently got on the cart and lay down.
"Hey, is that Zhao Shan on the cart?"
"Tsk, tsk. How did your brother end up like this?"
As Zhao Lin pushed the flatbed cart through the village entrance, the villagers all gathered around.
"My brother got seriously ill doing hard labor. The county released him so he could come back... they said it was to see him one last time..."
Zhao Lin forced out a couple of tears, his voice choked with emotion.
On the cart, Zhao Shan's eyes were vacant. His mouth hung open, and drool trickled from the corner of his lips.
"How tragic. Just last month he was such a sturdy young man."
"Sigh, isn't that the truth..."
Zhao Lin lowered his head and pushed the cart. When they reached an empty spot, he secretly gave a thumbs-up. "Brother, your acting is amazing."
"Yours isn't bad either, brother..." Zhao Shan winked.
When they entered their home, the old couple heard them and ran out, hugging Zhao Shan and weeping.
Although Mr. and Mrs. Zhao knew their son was only pretending to be sick, they couldn't help but weep when they thought of the suffering he had endured.
Zhao Lin deliberately waited at the doorway for a while, only closing the courtyard gate after his parents had cried their fill.
Once inside, the family composed themselves, and smiles finally returned to their faces.
When dinner was ready, Zhao Shan stared at the food on the table, swallowed hard, and felt a bit dazed. "Since when can we afford to eat meat?"
After absorbing the bear's Essence Soul, Zhao Lin's appetite had grown even larger. He could hardly go a meal without meat. With Zhao Shan's return today, the meal was especially lavish.
"Your brother didn't tell you? He found a job as a porter in the county seat..."
Zhao's father was overjoyed and recounted everything Zhao Lin had done these past few days.
Zhao Lin hadn't told his family that he had quit his job, much less about hunting in the mountains. If they ran into the bandits' spies, it was far safer for his family to be completely ignorant than to be knowingly concealing the truth.
After hearing his father's story, Zhao Shan finally understood that in the month he had been gone, his younger brother had supported the entire family. His eyes reddened, and he gripped Zhao Lin's shoulder, squeezing it firmly.
"Brother, I'm afraid you'll have to pretend to be sick for a while longer."
Zhao Lin said, glancing toward the door.
Zhao Shan nodded repeatedly. "I know."
...
For the next few days, Zhao Lin left early and returned late. On the surface, he told his family he was going to the city for work, but he was actually going to Zhou Pao's house in Baiqiao Village to wait for news.
"Morning!"
Zhao Lin pushed open the main gate and saw Liang Song practicing his fist techniques in the courtyard, so he called out a greeting.
Liang Song had been staying with his older cousin, but when Widow Wang learned that Zhu Dachun was injured, she began looking after him around the clock, never leaving his side.
Feeling like he was in the way, and with Zhou Pao being out of town, he had moved in here for a few days.
Zhao Lin warmed up for a bit, and once his body was loose, he began practicing his axe-throwing in the courtyard.
He had originally wanted to learn archery, but the two times he had used throwing axes on his last trip into the mountains, they had produced surprisingly effective results.
The first time, he hit the bear in the nose. The second time, he pierced the black-faced bandit's chest. He couldn't help but change his mind.
He was strong, and a bow and arrow wouldn't fully leverage his natural talents, but a throwing axe could.
As long as his aim was decent, the destructive power of a thrown axe was truly astounding. He remembered that the Vikings liked to use throwing axes in battle, easily breaking through armor and even smashing enemy shields to splinters.
After practicing with the axe for a while, Zhao Lin asked Liang Song for some pointers on Fist Skill.
Liang Song had spent all these years dreaming of getting revenge on the bandits. Although he didn't have the money to study under a famous master, he had cobbled together his knowledge and learned two sets of Fist Skill, making him far more skilled than a novice like Zhao Lin.
Zhao Lin figured it would be good to work on the fundamentals before formally beginning his martial arts training, so he humbly asked for guidance.
Liang Song didn't hold back, teaching him a set of the most basic Five-Step Fist.
This Fist Skill wasn't for fighting but for practicing common footwork like the bow stance, horse stance, evasive steps, and leaps, as well as basic moves like straight punches, hooks, upward palm strikes, and chopping palm strikes.
Only after building a solid foundation could one move on to learning offensive and defensive forms.
"Once we get the money, where are you planning to go to learn martial arts?"
Liang Song asked Zhao Lin during a break in their training.
Zhao Lin had mentioned to Liang Song that he also wanted to learn martial arts, which was why he asked.
"When I was working as a porter, I delivered goods to a few martial arts schools and sects, but unfortunately, I never had the chance to learn much about them."
Zhao Lin thought for a moment before asking, "Do you know which ones are any good?"
Liang Song shook his head. "To be honest, I'm not sure either. I just know you need at least one of three things: connections, talent, or wealth. And even then, there's no guarantee you'll get in..."
As the two were talking, they suddenly heard a CREAK. The courtyard gate was pushed open, and a travel-worn Zhou Pao walked in.