Chapter 4: The Mysterious Ancient Tome

Huff.

Zhang Hao raised his hand, using his already darkened sleeve to wipe the sweat beading on his forehead.

He straightened up, gazing at the mostly cleared living room, breathing heavily.

Years of drinking, no exercise, and irregular schedules had left his body unable to keep up with Li Siyu’s.

Once he finished tidying the entire house, sent out all the trash, and cleaned up the small courtyard, at least it would look somewhat like a home.

“Siyu, huff, just a little longer. After I finish tidying the living room, I’ll come help you clean your room…” he said, turning his head to look at the grand armchair by the door.

But Li Siyu, who should have been sitting there, had disappeared at some unknown time.

Even the black donkey she had led away was gone.

Siyu… has she left?

Could it be that his rebirth had altered the original course of events, triggering a butterfly effect?

That shouldn’t be the case…

Click, click.

Creak.

Just as he pondered, the rhythmic sound of the donkey’s hooves stepping on the bluestone outside reached his ears.

Then he saw Li Siyu approaching, holding the black donkey by the reins and sheltering under an oilcloth umbrella.

On either side of the donkey hung two large bags, one of which showed the tops of some leafy greens peeking out.

Li Siyu lifted her head, and their eyes met.

“It’s getting late. I’ll start cooking first. Do you… want to eat anything special? Oh, and Aunt Zhao brought some rice cakes. Do you want some?” Li Siyu’s tone was devoid of any emotion, her gaze somewhat evasive.

Gurgle~

Zhang Hao let out a long breath, and his stomach growled in response, a sharp, unbearable hunger making him frown.

Yet he forced a faint smile to curl at the corners of his mouth: “I’m not picky.”

Li Siyu hesitated slightly but said nothing, only nodding before leading the donkey toward the kitchen.

Zhang Hao rubbed his stomach, his mouth watering incessantly.

In his memory, Li Siyu’s cooking was unmatched in the entire Zhao family village—no one who had tasted it ever complained.

In his previous life, Li Siyu had cooked for him for five years. Even when her health declined, she persevered in making meals.

After she passed away, he never tasted such delicious food again. Every moment, day and night, he dreamt of eating her dishes just once more, even if only once.

Thinking of this, he raised his hand again and pinched his arm.

Ouch, it hurt.

That meant this was truly not a dream.

Wiping the sweat forming again on his forehead, he glanced back at the still unclean living room and shook his head helplessly.

Continuing like this wouldn’t do; he needed some tools to improve efficiency.

For example, woven bags for the trash and ropes to tie cardboard boxes, and such.

Otherwise, if the living room wasn’t cleaned by mealtime, it would be awkward.

The tools at home… should be in the cellar, right?

In the years before his rebirth, Li Siyu always did the tidying, and he mostly just got in the way.

He sighed silently.

Forget it, he decided to look for them himself.

Zhang Hao turned and stepped over the threshold, heading toward the cellar according to his memory.

…

Creak~

With a sound that seemed to echo through history, Zhang Hao lifted the wooden hatch to the cellar.

Immediately, a putrid, damp, and foul odor filled his nostrils.

He waved his hand vigorously to dispel the stench and, aided by the faint light filtering in from outside, peered inside.

The clutter was piled up haphazardly, making it hard to find any place to set foot.

He recalled that except for occasionally playing there as a child, he hadn’t ventured into the cellar since growing up…

Pushing aside these random thoughts, he carefully stepped onto the ladder, which seemed older than himself, and descended slowly.

The pungent smell of rot, dampness, and decay intensified.

Squinting and holding his breath, he used the light streaming from above to scrutinize the cellar’s contents, searching for the woven bags or ropes that might be stored there.

It was obvious no one had come here for a long time; a thick layer of dust covered everything.

Without much thought, he took a few steps forward, covering his mouth and nose with one hand, brows furrowed as he sifted through the disorderly pile for what he needed.

Before long, he found the woven bags, ropes, and other supplies.

At that moment, his gaze was drawn to an old-fashioned box in the corner, its surface coated in thick dust.

He remembered his father once treasured that box greatly.

As a child, he had tried many times to open it but was always stopped by his father…

Could it be filled with rare treasures? Unreleased heirlooms?

A strong curiosity surged within him, compelling him to approach the box.

He lifted it from the clutter and held it up to examine.

There was a small lock on the box, but rusted shut. He didn’t need to exert much force before the lock gave way.

Inside were stacks of yellowed papers, clearly aged with time.

Flipping through casually, he saw land deeds and long-obsolete land certificates.

As expected, there was nothing particularly surprising.

Zhang Hao smiled and was about to close the box and leave it among the clutter when something caught his peripheral vision.

Beneath where the box had been resting, there seemed to be a book.

A book?

He paused, set down the box, and picked up the seemingly ancient tome.

Its plain yellow cover bore no words but exuded a strong aura of antiquity.

Opening the cover, he saw on the first page several characters written in sharp, flowing calligraphy.

Zhang Hao focused but couldn’t understand the text.

He only recognized it as regular script in complex traditional characters.

The book looked quite old—perhaps even older than his father.

Flipping through a few pages, he found the content remained in complex traditional characters, written in neat calligraphy.

He then set the mysterious book aside temporarily.

Grabbing the items he had found, he hesitated briefly before also taking the ancient book he couldn’t read, and climbed back up the ladder to the surface.