Blade

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The next day, a light rain fell in the early morning.
The gloomy sky let through faint traces of light; the mountains and forests still slumbered, and even the wind had gentled and withdrawn, only occasionally sighing in quiet, whimpering gusts.
Fine raindrops pattered down, draping the already misty world in another veil. In the undulating hills, the dark earth lay silent everywhere, broken only by a few small figures moving slowly.
This was Wu Qingchen’s family.
At this moment, Wu Qingchen understood the meaning behind the fierce looks his father and brothers had given him.
The deepest ferocity is directed at oneself.
He also finally understood why the ancient peasants of the Z Kingdom invented the phrase “to toil like an ox or a horse”—it was no exaggeration, but a stark portrait of their miserable lives.
Wu Qingchen was now toiling like an ox or a horse.
Beside the muddy path, in a plot of resting land nearly turned to a marsh by the rain, Wu Qingchen trudged with difficulty, staggering with each step.
Whether in the lord’s common fields or the peasants’ allotted land, tilling the fields was the most important farm work of the summer. If this task was not done well, the harvest for the rest of the year could hardly be hoped for.
At this critical juncture, the family’s only cow was injured, their most important labor force rendered useless. With the heavy demands of summer tasks and no possibility of borrowing livestock from other villagers, Old William’s family was left with only one option:
People must do the work of beasts.
How strong is a cow, really? Wu Qingchen did not know, but he had seen a video once: eighteen grown men in a tug-of-war with an adult ox, and neither side won.
In other words, besides the already grueling farm work, the labor of a single ox—equivalent to that of more than a dozen grown men—was now divided among Wu Qingchen’s family of six.
Yes, a family of six.
The injured cow had shattered all of Old William’s plans, and broken the family’s way of life. The urgency of tilling threatened their food and livelihood for the coming year; compared to this, a day or two of cooking fires and household chores became insignificant.
Early in the morning, Mother Jacqueline and little Nina, only ten years old, also stood in the muddy plot. Under the big tree beside the field, in a basket covered with a rag, lay the food they had hastily prepared after getting up in the middle of the night. Beside the food, two bundles of dry grass wrapped two children who had just awakened and were wailing loudly.
The pitiful scene and the shrill cries could not draw Wu Qingchen’s attention.
By now, his eyes were blurred, his body heavy and sticky, sweat seeming to outweigh the rain.
In the mud, Wu Qingchen leaned forward violently, using all his strength just to take each heavy step, keeping pace with the slow-moving plough ahead. At the same time, he had to focus all his mind on controlling his trembling arms, gripping the handle tightly so the crooked plough would not tip over.
This plough was not even the property of Wu Qingchen’s family.
Last night, desperate to speed up the tilling, Old William stuffed some food in his pockets and left the wooden cabin, braving the rain and plunging into pitch-black fields. For three hours, he groped and stumbled in the dark, covered in mud, scratched by thorns and stones, pleading with more than a dozen familiar villagers until he finally borrowed an extra plough.
With two ploughs, the family divided into two groups: Old William, Idra, and Jacqueline chose the hard ground to the west, bearing the heaviest labor and already far ahead. On the softer eastern soil, Grace, Nina, and Wu Qingchen poured all their effort into their work but still lagged far behind.
Huff… huff… huff…
Shaking his head to clear the rain and sweat from his eyes, Wu Qingchen looked ahead. Grace and little Nina staggered, taking ages to move each step. Both bore long vine ropes across their shoulders; Grace, used to farm work, shifted the rope from shoulder to shoulder, but little Nina, trying to imitate him, had red marks carved into both sides.
Sigh…
Unconsciously, Wu Qingchen’s heart ached, and his freshly cleared eyes blurred again. “Nina, let’s switch…”
“I… I…” The words barely left her lips before Nina’s body shook violently. She paused, breathing heavily for a long time, then forced out her reply, haltingly: “I… Brother Ross, I’m fine… No… no need to switch, otherwise we’ll go… even slower…”

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This was Nina’s third refusal. At first, when Wu Qingchen saw the blood marks on her shoulders, he immediately switched places with her. Anticipating the labor, Wu Qingchen had secretly sewn pieces of animal hide into his cloak days before; with the rope biting into his shoulders, he felt only numbness, not enough to break his skin or cause injury.
But Nina, inexperienced and lacking strength, could not control the plough’s direction, and it toppled several times, slowing their already sluggish pace even further.
Ever since, no matter how Wu Qingchen or Grace persuaded her, Nina refused to switch places again.
This time was no different. Frowning, tears streaming, Nina gasped for breath, turned, shifted the rope back onto her shoulder, trembled violently, then bent down again, ready to pull.
Watching Nina’s trembling body and the fresh red marks spreading on her shoulders, Wu Qingchen felt as if an invisible hand had gripped his heart.
Suddenly, Wu Qingchen let go of the plough, peeled back his cloak with his left hand, reached over his shoulder with his right, and tore off the leather lining he had painstakingly sewn with thorns, fish bones, and fine vines.
He stepped forward, stood beside Nina, and, as if tossing aside a snake, pulled the rope from her shoulder, carefully lifted her collar, and gently laid the secret animal hide—whose existence the strategists had sternly warned must never be revealed—over her wounded, bloodstained shoulder.
“This…”
Nina, only ten years old and having eaten less meat in her life than would fill a single bowl, did not recognize what covered her shoulder. She only felt the pain ease as the soft hide touched her wound.
“This!… This!…”
Grace, nearly grown, instantly recognized the forbidden item—a symbol of encroaching on the lord’s interests, breaking the manor’s laws, and inviting the consequences of patrols, fines, dungeons, beatings, slavery, eating grass, tragic deaths, and countless other calamities. The fatigue on his face was replaced by shock and disbelief, and his gaze at Wu Qingchen filled with panic and indescribable fear.
“What’s wrong… Grace, Ross…”
From afar, Old William noticed the commotion and called out hoarsely.
Like a thunderbolt striking nearby, Grace shuddered, his lips parting involuntarily. “Father… Ross…”
“Ahem…” Wu Qingchen coughed forcefully, stepped forward to block Grace’s view, and locked eyes with him.
Though sixteen-year-old Grace, living in a simple, closed medieval world, could not understand what a grave expression or sharp gaze meant, the sight of Wu Qingchen standing straight, brows tightly knit, eyes narrowed, made Grace instinctively take a step back, his voice unconsciously lowering.
Whew…
Wu Qingchen let out a breath, turned towards Old William. “It’s nothing, father, Nina was hurt a bit, I helped her wipe the wound…”
Seeing the plough in the distance resume its journey, Wu Qingchen returned his gaze, gently patted Nina’s head, and said softly, “When we finish this field, give it back to me… This is our secret, none of us will tell, not Idra, not father or mother, alright?”
As he spoke the last words, Wu Qingchen’s gaze rested on Grace.
Unable to help themselves, both Nina (much lighter now) and Grace nodded slowly, their voices subdued: “Alright.”
“Good… let’s get back to work.”
Picking up the handle, straightening the plough, Wu Qingchen leaned forward once more.
Just then, “boom!”—a bolt of lightning streaked across the sky, and the dim surroundings flashed bright.
With the thunder, the falling rain instantly intensified, the drops grew larger, and a torrential downpour followed. In less than half a minute, the summer chill seeped into Wu Qingchen’s exposed skin, his vision blurred again, and he could hardly see the mud beneath his feet.
“Crack!” “Crack!” “Bang!”
As Wu Qingchen raised his right hand to brush aside the rain and wipe his face, another sharp thunderclap exploded overhead.
In that instant, already exhausted and staggering, caught mid-step and mid-motion, Wu Qingchen’s balance was lost, and after stumbling forward two steps, he finally collapsed, falling sideways into the earth.

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In his vision, a cold gleam flashed larger before Wu Qingchen’s eyes.
Damn!
This is bad!
It was the blade of the plough!
Damn! Damn! Damn!
In the crisis, a chill shot straight from Wu Qingchen’s spine to his brain. The world seemed to slow; he forced his eyes open and stared at the blade, its cold light illuminated by lightning.
“Ross…” “Brother…”
Grace’s anxious cry and Nina’s desperate scream rang in his ears.
With all his strength, Wu Qingchen twisted at the waist, turning his head aside just in time. Half a second later, he hit the ground, landing straight in the muddy plot.
His face was less than a finger’s breadth from the plough blade.
I…
Damn…
Hell…
Damn…
At least two minutes passed before Wu Qingchen, still shaken, finally managed to climb to his feet.
A terror gripped his mind, his whole body numb and cold. It took another two minutes before he could slowly check himself head to toe.
Only after a long while did he confirm he was not visibly injured.
He stood dazed for a time, looking at the rain pouring in sheets overhead, at his siblings drenched and splattering water, and at the sharp blade glinting with cold light.
Wu Qingchen clenched his teeth and forced out the most venomous curse he could muster: Damn you, you bastard cowherd, may your whole family and ancestors for eighteen generations never know peace, may you be reborn in this medieval world forever and ever…
Afterwards…
Wu Qingchen’s gaze drifted, unfocused.
He placed his right thumb between his middle and ring fingers.
His head tilted, left foot raised.
A minute later, as the urgent wake-up command reached top priority, the rain-shaped world before Wu Qingchen’s eyes began to vibrate in waves.
Two seconds after, in the world of Earth, Wu Qingchen opened his eyes.