Reborn in Poverty

Reborn in Poverty

On modern-day Earth, after centuries of impact from technological civilization, martial arts had fallen into decline. People relied increasingly on machines and had cast aside the cultivation methods of martial arts passed down by their ancestors. Only a small handful still struggled to hold on, guarding the last remnants of the tradition.

With martial arts in decline, the fabled feats of shattering the void and attaining sainthood through the body had long since become legends in cultivation novels.

Yet one man had found another path and cultivated all the way to the final step of attaining sainthood through the body.

He was Tang Yuan, heir to the modern Tang Sect!

Sadly, because of a congenital physical defect, he ultimately lost his chance to bring martial arts back to glory.

In a plain room, a slender youth slowly opened his eyes.

That youth was, of course, Tang Yuan. He had been only one step away from attaining sainthood through the body. But because he had been born with a disability, he could not withstand the force of his breakthrough at the final moment. His body and soul had perished.

When he awoke, he found himself inhabiting the body of a commoner martial youth named Zhang He. The poor kid had just been beaten nearly into paralysis at the Martial Child Academy by a rich, handsome young master. At first, Zhang He had been astonished by this case of coming back to life in another person's body. But after calmly thinking it through, he quickly accepted it without a qualm.

There had been plenty of stories about people coming back to life in another body; his was hardly the only one. Life was like being raped: if you couldn't fight back, you might as well enjoy it.

The youth's ears twitched. Hearing footsteps outside, his expression shifted. He instantly dropped back down with lightning speed, putting on the appearance of someone utterly frail.

An Oscar-worthy performance!

The old wooden door creaked open. A middle-aged woman in an apron carefully carried in a steaming black earthenware bowl.

A pungent medicinal smell instantly filled the room.

"Er, are you feeling any better?" The woman set down the bowl and reached out to check the youth's forehead.

The youth obediently replied, "Mother... I'm much better now. Don't worry about me."

The woman smiled faintly. "Looks like this medicine works after all. That wandering physician didn't lie to me. Come, Er, drink this bowl of medicine."

The youth's face twitched. He hesitated over whether to drink it, but the woman urged him on. "Drink up. Once you've had it, you'll get better and can go back to the Martial Child Academy."

Go back to the Martial Child Academy? Did he have to keep getting bullied by those rich young martial youths?

The youth grumbled inwardly. It was no wonder he felt so reluctant about that academy. He was a commoner martial youth. Though commoners outnumbered the rich at the academy, having more people didn't mean having the upper hand. The commoner youths were always beaten to a pulp by a small handful of rich ones!

Zhang He was a tragic example. The rich youths resented the commoner martial youths for taking up so much of the Martial Child Academy's Body Tempering Liquid, leaving them without enough to use. They believed that giving the liquid to commoner youths who were trash was the greatest waste imaginable.

So the rich martial youths had banded together to oppose the commoners, while also suppressing them at every turn.

Zhang He was one tragic example: a rich martial youth had beaten him nearly into paralysis at the Martial Arts Arena.

"Come on, drink your medicine," the woman urged again. She picked up the bowl. A layer of murky stuff floated on top, making it impossible to tell what was in it. A strange smell wafted from the surface.

The youth frowned slightly. He genuinely loathed the pungent medicine, but he couldn't say anything. Every time he saw the "mother's" eager gaze, he lost the will to refuse.

He could only take the bowl and drain it in one gulp.

"Rest for a while. When you get up, eat something. You'll need your strength." Seeing that the youth had finished, the woman smiled, tucked in his covers, picked up the bowl, and went out.

A troubled look flashed through the youth's eyes.

"I've been pretending to be sick for six days, drinking this lizard-piss concoction three times a day. This is... torture!"

A young girl's clear voice sounded outside the door.

"Mother, how is Big Brother?"

"Shh, don't disturb your brother. He's still resting."

"Oh." The girl obediently replied in a low voice, "Mother, Nannan's hungry."

"Good girl, the food's in the pot. Go ahead and eat," the woman whispered. "Save that piece of white flour flatbread from last night for your brother, all right?"

"Mm." The little girl answered. "Mother, aren't you going to eat?"

"Mother already ate. Go ahead. Oh, and things are unsettled outside these days. Don't run around playing all the time, understand?"

"Mm."

After a rustle of movement, a series of thumps came from the courtyard. Zhang He's mother was making pickles for a small restaurant outside.

The family's livelihood depended entirely on his mother making pickles for that restaurant.

His feelings toward this mother were complicated. He had never expected to be reincarnated in this youth's body. During the six days since he had awoken, the woman had stayed by his side, caring for him day and night. Though he spoke very little, he could still feel the selfless love she had for him.

He had long since forgotten what a mother's love felt like. Experiencing it again made him feel strangely out of place.

His stomach rumbled. The youth climbed out of bed, revealing a hideous black birthmark on his forehead. He got dressed and went out.

The outer room served as both kitchen and dining room.

At the low table, a little girl in worn clothes, her hair tied into two little buns, was struggling to bite into the black flatbread in her hands. A bowl of watery vegetable porridge sat in front of her.

This was Zhang He's little sister, Zhang Yu. She was only seven, fair and adorable as a porcelain doll.

"Big Brother." Seeing him come out, Zhang Yu beamed. "You're finally up, hehe."

The youth's gaze fell on the black flatbread in Zhang Yu's little hands. He opened the pot. Inside, still warm, were a yellowing piece of white flour flatbread and a small pot of vegetable porridge.

"Mother saved that food for you, Big Brother. Hurry and eat," Zhang Yu said sensibly.

The youth took out the flatbread and porridge. Seeing Zhang Yu secretly swallow, then looking at the black flatbread in the child's hands, he couldn't help feeling a pang in his heart.

He pushed the white flour flatbread in front of Zhang Yu and said softly, "You eat it."

"No, Big Brother. You're sick, and Mother saved this for you. I can't eat it." Though she wanted it, Zhang Yu sensibly shook her head.

Without another word, the youth broke the flatbread in half, snatched the black one from Zhang Yu's hands, and put the white flour flatbread in its place.

"I can't eat it all. Half for each of us. Go on."

Zhang Yu immediately beamed. Opening her little mouth, she bit into the yellowing white flour flatbread. "Big Brother, it's so good."

The youth let out a long breath. He broke the black flatbread in half, scattering crumbs of coarse bran across the table, then stuffed a piece into his mouth. A coarse, hard-to-swallow taste spread through him.

Keeping the best food for himself... The youth let out a long sigh. "From this day on, I am no longer Tang Yuan. I am Zhang He, a son of this family!"

He repeated the thought silently. The strange feeling he had carried before finally faded after he made that decision, replaced by resolve.

Tang Yuan was dead. Only Zhang He, a son of this family, remained.

"Bang!"

A dull thud suddenly came from outside. Zhang He jumped, dropped his flatbread, and dashed out.

By the well, Zhang He's mother lay facedown on the ground, motionless.

"Mother!"

Zhang He's heart clenched. He rushed over, and Zhang Yu hurried out behind him. Seeing their mother collapsed on the ground, she burst into tears and ran after Zhang He.

Zhang He lifted her up, only to find Mother Zhang's eyes tightly shut and her face an ashen black. Her breath carried a strange odor.

"Big Brother, a bug! A bug!" Zhang Yu suddenly cried.

An ugly, six-legged insect, its whole body bluish-black, fell from Mother Zhang onto the ground. It bared its claws and crawled toward Zhang He. Zhang He glanced at it and crushed it underfoot without hesitation.

Zhang He looked at his mother's face and pried open her eyelids. He sucked in a breath. "How could she have been poisoned?" He immediately helped Mother Zhang onto his back and carried her into the house.

Zhang He looked at the swollen back of his mother's hand, his expression dark. Two tiny wounds marked it. Clearly, she had been bitten by something venomous, and that little bug had to be involved.

But the courtyard was spotless, with no bushes. Where had the thing come from?

"Big Brother, what's wrong with Mother?" Zhang Yu asked through her sobs.

"Don't worry, little sister. Mother will be all right," Zhang He reassured her. "Stay here and watch her. I'll find a cart and take her to the clinic."

"Big Brother, we have no money. The people at the clinic won't treat her," Zhang Yu said.

Zhang He stopped abruptly. Only then did he remember that the family had no savings left. Otherwise, he wouldn't have been stuck at home drinking that folk remedy when he was sick.

Mother Zhang's breathing grew more and more labored. Amid the ashen color of her face, a sickly flush had begun to appear.

"What a vicious venomous bug!" Zhang He had been the best poison expert in the Tang Sect. He could tell at a glance how potent a poison was. Seeing her like this, he couldn't help being startled. If things continued this way, his mother would surely be in grave danger.

With no silver needles, he found an embroidery needle instead. He pricked several vital acupoints on the arm where his mother had been bitten, then pierced her wrist and squeezed out the blood.

The blood that came out was black.

"Little sister, stay here and keep an eye on Mother." Zhang He wiped away his sweat. Squeezing out the blood could only ease the immediate danger; it couldn't rid her body of the poison.

"If I still had my cultivation, this little poison would be child's play!" Seeing the woman unconscious, Zhang He felt helpless for the first time. If he still had his cultivation, he could simply circulate his energy and draw out the poison. But now, he was powerless.

Wait, a spark of inspiration suddenly flashed through his mind.

"Big Brother, where are you going?"

"Little sister, stay here and watch Mother! I'll be right back!" Zhang He slung the family's back basket over his shoulders and packed a few jars and pots used for making pickles. He felt the dozen or so copper coins he had saved by scrimping on food and went straight out the door.