Chapter One: Truly Destitute

“Sir, our family truly has no money left—my husband, he...!”

Han Qing tried to open his eyes and see what was around him, but everything remained blurry; only the clamor outside reached his ears. His last memory was of being struck by a luxury car, flung into the air—on top of being betrayed in love, he was sent flying over ten meters. What a wretched fate!

Could this be the underworld after death? Han Qing summoned all his strength to slowly open his eyes and finally took in his surroundings. He raised his head to look about. The furnishings in the room were utterly unlike the modern world—rather, they resembled something else...

Suddenly, a sharp pain shot through Han Qing's head, and fragments of unfamiliar memories flooded his mind.

Qing Kingdom... Northern County... Han family. Scene after scene, both strange and familiar, flashed before his eyes.

After a while, Han Qing understood his new predicament: he must have transmigrated. And by some coincidence, the original owner of this body was also named Han Qing.

What left him speechless was that this Han Qing was a pauper. Gazing at the nearly empty room—just a single bed and nothing more—Han Qing could only sigh in resignation.

Others who transmigrated became young masters, princes, or at least were gifted with some sort of system. His own crossing over, by contrast, seemed downright pitiable.

As Han Qing was lamenting his fate, the argument outside grew more heated.

“Sirs, we truly have no money left—the last of our savings must be kept for my husband’s coffin.”

Han Qing recognized the woman’s voice immediately; it was his wife, Han Jiang’s daughter.

Jiang Xiuxiu, who had been adopted by the Jiang family since childhood—because Han Qing’s father had once saved the master of the Jiang family’s life. In gratitude, the two families forged a marriage agreement. When the Jiang family learned of the Han family’s impoverished circumstances, Jiang’s father, unwilling to let his own daughter suffer, sent his adopted daughter Xiuxiu in her stead.

On the wedding day, the Jiang family severed all ties with their adopted daughter. Because of this, after entering the Han family, Jiang Xiuxiu was shunned and scolded by Han Qing for everything, large and small.

Han Qing, proud of his scholarly talents, had never soiled his hands with household chores, leaving all such matters to Xiuxiu. She had endured much hardship with him. Han Qing gave a bitter laugh, lamenting how he had failed to cherish such a good wife.

After failing the provincial exam, Han Qing had fallen in with a group of idle scholars, spending his days at the Drunken Red Pavilion, drinking and carousing. His companions were all scholars of varying rank—some, like him, had only passed the children's exam; the most accomplished among them was but a licentiate. Their gatherings—ostensibly for literary discussion—were really just for drinking with the famous courtesans.

Because of this, Han Qing had racked up considerable debt, leading to the current scene outside: creditors demanding payment.

What a cruel irony. In the modern world, Han Qing had scrimped and saved, working tirelessly day and night. Yet this original Han Qing, despite being destitute, had still found time and money for pleasure and drink.

Truly, those who seek trouble shall find it. Indeed, it was after one such night of excessive drinking that Han Qing had fallen into a well and drowned—a fitting end for his misdeeds.

Since he was now living a second life for her husband, Han Qing resolved to let this pitiable woman live a better one.

“You wretched woman, get out of my sight! Debts must be repaid—it's only right. Even if that scoundrel Han Qing is dead, you still owe us money!”

Jiang Xiuxiu faced the fierce man gripping a knife. Trembling with fear yet resolute, she stood her ground before the men.

“Refusing a toast only to drink a forfeit, are you...?”

At that moment, a young man in elegant robes, holding a folding fan, stepped out from the crowd.

“How can you treat Miss Jiang so roughly? Stand down!”

At his words, the brutish man immediately changed demeanor, rushing to his side with a servile smile and bows. The young noble nodded indifferently and ignored him, turning instead to Jiang Xiuxiu.

Jiang Xiuxiu was drenched with nervous sweat; her purple gauze dress clung more tightly to her fair skin, her graceful figure captivating.

“Miss Jiang, don't be afraid. My servant was too rough,” the noble said, reaching to take her hand.

“Thank you, sir, your kindness is appreciated,” Jiang Xiuxiu replied, nervously stepping back.

Her action, however, displeased the young noble, whose gaze filled with desire. He signaled to Niu Er with his eyes.

The burly man understood at once and seized Xiuxiu’s delicate hand. “If you can't pay your debt, then pay with yourself. Follow Master Bai, and you'll live in luxury.”

Xiuxiu struggled, tears shimmering in her eyes, but how could her strength match Niu Er’s?

By now, a sizable crowd had gathered outside the small courtyard. Most were honest country folk, indignant on Jiang Xiuxiu’s behalf, but wary of the noble’s background, they dared only to watch from afar.

“In these times, merchants are beneath officials. Just because this Bai fellow passed the exam, does he think he can act with impunity?”

“Indeed. One man passes the exam, and his whole clan rises with him!”

“Poor Lady Han—her husband has died, and now she's bullied so. Won’t the magistrate intervene?”

“Don’t dream. Master Bai is the county magistrate’s nephew and a licentiate besides. Who would risk offending him?”

“Alas, to be widowed and immediately face such misfortune. I’ve heard Master Bai has coveted Jiang Xiuxiu for some time. Hard times await her, no doubt!”

Niu Er only waited for his master’s command to drag Xiuxiu away by force.

Tears streamed down Jiang Xiuxiu’s cheeks, but her eyes blazed with determination.

“You stubborn woman, refusing kindness for punishment! The money your husband owed could have sent you to the Drunken Red Pavilion several times over!”

“Pretty girl, come quietly with me.”

Master Bai could wait no longer to have his way with Xiuxiu. “Niu Er, take her away,” he ordered.

As the burly man was about to seize Jiang Xiuxiu, he suddenly reeled—an old woman had struck him on the head with a spade.

“Damn it, where did this old hag come from!” Enraged, Niu Er released Xiuxiu and kicked the old woman to the ground.

“Mother, why did you come out?!” Xiuxiu cried, worriedly trying to run to her side.

But in the next instant, her arm was seized again—Niu Er had grabbed her once more.

“If you don’t come now, I’ll kill this old woman! Your husband never cared for you alive; let’s see who dares stand up for you now that he’s dead!”

Master Bai nodded, and Niu Er, understanding, began dragging the weeping Xiuxiu away. The onlookers shook their heads and sighed at the injustice of the world, yet none dared intervene.

But just then, an angry shout rang out from within the house:

“Stop right there!”