IV. Dreams and Reality

Last house at last!

This house was a bit larger than the others—perhaps it belonged to the village chief or some local landlord. But for Zhang Xuan, it was his final hope for a golden finger.

He pushed the door open gingerly, and saw a courtyard. Indeed, the privileges of the wealthy and powerful were evident in their dwellings. The difference was clear at a glance.

But as expected, the place was deserted, not a soul in sight, the courtyard strewn with debris. Still, since it was the last house, Zhang Xuan reasoned, there was no harm in searching—even if it was likely to yield nothing, not searching guaranteed nothing.

He stepped into the courtyard, scrutinizing every corner, searching as thoroughly as possible. Yet the place was barren, with only a few grains of food scattered on the ground, barely more than a handful. They might be millet, but Zhang Xuan couldn’t be sure.

He moved on to the bedroom, only to find it equally ransacked and empty—no bed, nothing left but dust.

Reluctant to give up, he examined every nook and cranny, but clearly the idea of a golden finger was mere wishful thinking.

He decided to try the kitchen for some food, having abandoned hope of any supernatural aid.

Yet fate rewards those who persist! In a corner of the kitchen, Zhang Xuan finally found a box!

He cried out inwardly, "I found it! At last!" Was this the legendary treasure chest? Could this be the golden finger?

Surely, even for a transmigrant, the protagonist's aura must shine, or how could one survive in a strange world?

Zhang Xuan’s dreams soared—he imagined reaching for Teacher San, and even Teacher Takahashi.

Bah! What nonsense. Perhaps it would be Cai Wenji or Diao Chan within his grasp.

He clutched the treasure box tightly, afraid it might slip away if he relaxed for even a moment.

With great ceremony, he carried the box into the courtyard, setting it in the sun to absorb its essence, preparing to chant a prayer and perform some ritual.

Unfortunately, as a devout Marxist youth, he knew nothing of such things.

He muttered a few words, bowed three times to heaven and earth, and felt the ritual was sufficient.

And now, the moment to witness a miracle had come.

Heart pounding, hands trembling, the golden finger was about to reveal itself!

Zhang Xuan’s legendary life was set to begin with this golden finger. With this cheat, he imagined himself conquering the land in the era of the Three Kingdoms, forging his empire through trials of blood and fire, sweetness and hardship, recruiting famed generals and beautiful women, ultimately achieving imperial glory.

He pictured recruiting Zhao Yun, Dian Wei, Gan Ning, and literary masters like Guo Jia, Lu Su, and Zhuge Liang, winning beauties like the Qiao sisters and Diao Chan.

He drooled at the thought, imagination running wild.

He had rehearsed this scene countless times in his mind: opening the treasure chest, clouds gathering, gales rising, thunder rolling, lightning flashing.

A beam of light would shoot into his body, and a system voice would ring in his mind:

“Ding, master, I am now bound to you. You have xxx joy points and xxx hatred points. You can spend xxx joy points to summon a literary minister from the historical archives or xxx hatred points to summon a general to assist you…”

He imagined summoning Li Jing, Wang Anshi, Zhang Juzheng, Yue Fei…

With their support and his own wise leadership, he would march north, cross south, travel east and west, unite the realm, and build a true empire where the sun never sets. The thought was exhilarating and wild.

The box was finally opened!

But nothing happened. No light, no clouds, no thunder, no lightning—nothing. The box was empty, utterly empty.

Zhang Xuan turned the box over and over, fearful he had missed something, but empty meant empty.

“Damn it, where’s my golden finger, my cheat? How could I be so unlucky? I crossed over and got nothing, not even a martial arts manual or a high-level internal cultivation formula…”

He screamed silently, but no one heard him. Even if they did, they’d think he was a fool—so joyous he’d become tragic, a promising young man turned silly.

Clinging to his one hope, he sat there dumbly, railing against the unfairness of heaven.

Grandpa Tong ambled in.

“What are you hugging there? A treasure? Doesn’t look like it. Why are you clutching it so tightly? It’s not a beauty, and even a beauty couldn’t withstand your embrace.”

“I caught a bit of fish and wild chicken. You complained about my cakes being tasteless, right? Let me try your cooking for a change.”

Grandpa Tong spoke to himself, handing Zhang Xuan the fish and wild chicken.

Zhang Xuan shot him a sidelong glance.

“You have no idea what ups and downs I just went through. Heaven played a joke on me—I was whisked from paradise back to hell in an instant…”

“What’s paradise? I’ve heard of hell—like the eighteen levels—but you’re barely grown and already talking so strangely.”

“Paradise is just paradise. It’s where good people, those kind to others, go after death. Or you could say it’s where immortals live.”

Zhang Xuan looked at Grandpa Tong with contempt as he explained.

“Dream on, a place for immortals. How could you, a little brat, ever get there? Are you out of your mind again? Let me check your pulse. After all the trouble I went to save you, if you die again, I’ll have nothing to brag about to Old Hua.”

He grabbed Zhang Xuan’s hand and felt his pulse seriously.

“Good, seems fine. Now, let me taste your cooking. Show me the delicacies you’ve been eating that made you dislike my cakes…”

Zhang Xuan took the fish and wild chicken.

“Do you have a knife? Is there a river nearby? I need to clean out the guts.”

Scissors were out of the question—how could such a luxury exist in these times?

“You clean the guts? That’s a first for me. There’s a knife here, and a river at the edge of the village. I’ll take you.”

With that, Grandpa Tong led Zhang Xuan outside.

“So inexperienced—no wonder you think my cakes are rare delicacies. It’s the sorrow of living in ancient times.”

He said it, but his heart was uneasy. How would he manage the days ahead?

Why couldn’t a cheat just drop into his lap?

Shouldn’t all transmigrators be treated equally? This was hardly fair!

At the same time, he was filled with uncertainty and apprehension about the days to come.