Hmm, Biological Father

Lu Chuan lost consciousness, and then a series of fragmented images began to surface in his mind.

From the birth of an infant to his slow growth, he had been bullied and mocked by others since childhood simply because he was intellectually disabled.

The final scenes were the slap he had just received from that middle-aged man, followed by a thin old man beside him drawing a glowing talisman on him.

When he woke up, he was already lying on a bed inside a room with very ancient decor.

He could vaguely hear the sounds outside, which remained noisy and bustling, with people speaking loudly as if they were drunk.

Combined with the festive front courtyard he had seen earlier, it seemed someone in this household was holding a wedding.

"Lu Chuan..."

Lu Chuan lay on the bed, extending a delicate hand to examine it closely, and muttered, "I am... Lu Chuan?"

This was not his hand, yet it was his hand now.

It was a highly contradictory statement.

If an explanation were required, perhaps only the legendary concept of "transmigration" could account for it.

Yet his current situation was somewhat different from "transmigration" or "rebirth."

Although he did not know how it had happened, he and this "idiot Lu Chuan" were indeed the same person.

It was precisely because "he" had been dormant that this Lu Chuan had previously been an idiot without a shred of intelligence.

Today, he had been "awakened," so the original idiot was no longer an idiot.

"I am Lu Chuan, heh, I am Lu Chuan. If this isn't a dream, then it truly is a chilling story."

He spoke to himself, yet his tone remained calm; clearly, he had already accepted this fact.

No matter the time or place, sleep is always a good thing. Regardless of how much pressure one faces in daily life, a good night's sleep and a pleasant dream can always help one relax.

Of course, it can also help one accept many things that might be unacceptable or unimaginably bizarre while awake, such as...

The situation he currently found himself in.

Furthermore, the middle-aged man who had slapped him today appeared to be his father.

Thinking of this, Lu Chuan raised his hand and gently touched his red, swollen, burning cheek.

"Hmph, my own father!"

Lu Chuan's voice carried a complex tone.

"I wonder what kind of world this is."

Immediately, he pondered the world he now inhabited.

Judging by what he had seen in the courtyard today and the layout of the room, there was no doubt this was ancient times.

What made him feel helpless and anxious, however, was that he could not understand the language here, and they could not understand him.

Ancient times did not use Mandarin; how could they possibly be on the same wavelength?

Although he had looked through some scattered memories of "himself" over the past sixteen years, could one learn English just by watching an English movie?

Moreover, given the intelligence of the idiot Lu Chuan, one shouldn't expect him to know many words or remember much of anything useful.

Wait, that seemed to be insulting himself as well...

From his previous memories, he could not find any useful information about this world.

Whether in the past or the present, his understanding of this world was practically zero.

Suddenly, he heard the room door being pushed open from the outside.

Then, the father of this lifetime walked in carefully, carrying a bowl of soup, and sat down by the bedside.

Lu Chuan glanced at Lu Liang, his face expressionless and his eyes cold.

People say a daughter is a father's lover from a past life; he wasn't sure about that, but the saying that fathers and sons are enemies seemed to hold some truth.

Lu Liang did not speak either; he simply stared at Lu Chuan, a happy smile hanging on his face.

"Does it hurt?"

He suddenly asked, reaching out to touch Lu Chuan's swollen face.

Lu Chuan dodged his hand without a word.

He didn't even dare to touch it himself; a light brush or the slightest movement was enough to make one feel an electric, stinging pain throughout the body.

"Don't blame your father..."

A look of sorrow appeared on Lu Liang's face as he said softly, "We are servants. If you had ruined the master's wedding banquet, you would have been beaten to death..."

Lu Chuan watched him silently. Although he could not understand the words, his father seemed very sorrowful right now.

Languages may differ, but expressions and gazes can sometimes become another way of communicating.

A very uncomfortable feeling suddenly welled up in his heart.

Looking at Lu Chuan's right cheek, half of which was swollen high and had turned a frightening shade of blue and purple, Lu Liang sighed, set down the soup, and turned to walk out of the room in silence.

Lu Chuan looked toward the bowl of soup.

The taste of hunger is never pleasant; under any circumstances, a person should never treat themselves poorly.

Lu Chuan picked up the soup and drained it in one gulp without the slightest hesitation.

Creeeak!

Not long after, the door was pushed open from the outside, and someone entered.

This time it was not his father, but the maid who used to look after him, her face dusted with a few faint freckles.

By now, night had fallen without him noticing.

The clamor outside had gradually faded, and everything had grown quiet.

Lu Chuan watched as the maid entered, set a small bowl she was carrying onto the table, and then walked over to his bedside to light an oil lamp.

Under that faint glow, the lamp base shimmered with a ghostly, greenish light.

"An oil lamp?"

Seeing this oil lamp, Lu Chuan was slightly stunned.

Does this world still use such primitive oil lamps?

Then, he saw the maid smile at him and say something, though he still could not understand her.

The maid took the small bowl and sat down by his bedside. Lu Chuan glanced into it and saw only half a bowl of clear water.

Lu Chuan stared at the maid in surprise. What was she trying to do?

Plop!

The maid took out a small pill and dropped it into the bowl.

The pill was only the size of a fingertip; it dissolved the moment it hit the water, quickly melting away and vanishing.

However, the maid seemed uneasy about it, even dipping a finger into the water to stir it before finally lifting the bowl and smiling at Lu Chuan.

"What do you want?"

Lu Chuan's entire body tensed instantly, and he instinctively shrank back.

Looking at her smile, which bloomed like a flower, a different scene could not help but surface in his mind:

A beautiful woman bringing a bowl of medicine to her ugly husband lying on his sickbed, calling out softly, "Dalang..."

Thinking of this, Lu Chuan shook his head vigorously, hurriedly banishing the image from his mind.

Still, he kept a wary, guarded eye on the maid.

Although, to be honest, he did not particularly like this somewhat backward world, even an ant clings to life; it is better to live a wretched life than to die a good death.

Since he had already been reincarnated here, being pretentious or disdainful would just be asking for trouble. "When in Rome, do as the Romans do" was the best choice.

Fortunately, he was a reincarnation, not a transmigrator.

Since he had not used his soul to occupy someone else's body, he would not have to worry later about whether his future children were truly his own or someone else's.

Since he had come, he would strive to survive here until the very end of his life.

Seeing Lu Chuan's guarded expression, the maid felt both annoyed and amused. It was one thing for him not to be grateful for her hard work and exhaustion in coming to look after him.

But what was the meaning of that look, as if a little white rabbit were staring at a big bad wolf?