Rebirth: Not Being a Waste - Chapter 124

The bluestone slabs at the entrance of Shuitou Village were trampled over the past few days. The entire village was heavily guarded, with officials coming and going.

The emperor’s second son, His Royal Highness Prince Cheng, was attacked here. It was said he was seriously injured but narrowly survived. Upon hearing this, the emperor sent over a dozen doctors to tend to him. Who wouldn’t want to curry favor with such a powerful figure? It was a rare opportunity to show their respect.

After a few days of commotion, the prince ordered that his injuries be tended to in peace and that no outsiders interfere. As soon as the order came, Shuitou Village returned to its former calm.

Zhang Shu lay on a rocking chair under a tree, enjoying the simple pleasures of family life. Qianjin brought him a piece of cake and some fruit, eager to stuff it all into his mouth.

Though his wound bled quite a bit, the bleeding stopped as soon as the medicine was applied. By the next day, it started to itch, a sign it might be healing.

He felt quite satisfied with his body’s resilience. If someone without capital like him possessed such a physique, they’d be in serious trouble.

It was a pity he couldn’t let anyone know about this. Li Mujin was the one taking care of the wound.

“Father, does it hurt?” Qianjin asked, worry in his eyes. He seemed to remember the terrifying scene when his father was carried off the mountain, covered in blood. He shuddered at the thought.

Zhang Shu pulled him onto his lap, gently touching his little head, feeling a pang of guilt. This child had nightmares every night. Every time he woke up, he cried out for his Father. Qianjin used to sleep with Grandma Zhang, but now he insisted on sleeping with them every night.

Zhang Erbao’s cradle sat in the yard, and suddenly the baby began crying. Qianjin quickly jumped off the rocking chair, rushing to push the cradle. Zhang Erbao was soon calmed by his brother’s efforts.

Prince Cheng, who wrapped himself up tightly, sat on the other side. “Brother Zhang, how are you feeling? Have you given any thought to what I said the other day?”

Zhang Shu didn’t want to respond. He recalled the prince suggesting that he repay the life-saving favor by marrying his children into the royal family.

Wasn’t this just repaying kindness with enmity? Was he really expected to marry off his own child to someone just to return a favor?

“My daughter is well-behaved and intelligent, and my son is equally sharp and handsome. I think this marriage would be a good match.”

Zhang Shu looked at him coldly as the prince praised his son. He saw the little prince before—his romantic, peach blossom eyes. His precious ger would never fall for someone like that!

Seeing that Zhang Shu was still unresponsive, Prince Cheng turned his attention to Qianjin. “Qianjin, I have a handsome son a little older than you in my uncle’s family. Would you like to go play with him?”

“No,” came the soft but firm response.

“Why not?”

“I have many younger brother, and I can play with Brother Dabao,” Qianjin replied, his tone resolute.

“My handsome son is very good-looking,” Prince Cheng insisted.

“Father says I’m the best-looking!” Qianjin declared proudly.

Before the prince could respond, the courtyard door slammed open, and a round little cannonball rushed in, throwing himself at Prince Cheng’s legs and crying, “Father! Don’t die! I won’t be naughty anymore! I won’t roast sparrows with your paintings, and I won’t keep mice in your shoes!”

Zhang Shu was taken aback. What kind of mischievous child was this? If he stayed here, he’d be in big trouble.

Qianjin stared at the little boy, his face turning red with confusion. Was this the “handsome son” the prince mentioned? This was clearly a marriage scam!

Prince Cheng didn’t expect to be humiliated so quickly. He picked up the troublesome little brat clinging to his legs. “Who brought you here?”

“Emperor Grandfather asked me to come!” the little prince responded, his round face looking cute, though his clothes were disheveled and his face covered in snot. He resembled more of a commoner’s child than a delicate little prince.

Prince Cheng looked out at the long procession outside and called for a guard. After a quick exchange, he turned back, yanked the little prince’s pants down, and gave him a slap, making the little rascal cry out loudly. This brat actually hid in the caravan!

When Prince Cheng thought of his tearful wife and the sobbing old lady in the palace, he felt helpless. How could this troublesome little brat keep causing such trouble?

But despite his frustration, he couldn’t help but feel a warmth in his heart. At least it showed that his son still cared for him, sneaking out to visit when he heard his father was injured.

At the palace:

“Someone! Bring Zhao Chengzhang, that little brat, here, and put him on the board!”

The emperor shook with anger as he looked at his favorite painting of a shrimp and prawn, which now showed a large tortoise devouring the shrimp in its mouth.

The emperor was so angry he nearly passed out.

At lunch, the little prince seemed to have starved for days. He buried his head in a large bowl of seafood, his face covered in oil.

Once again, Prince Cheng found that comparing goods with goods was a waste, and comparing people with people was equally futile. Zhang Yao, wearing a small bib, ate happily, spoonful by spoonful. Occasionally, if a grain of rice fell, he carefully wiped it away. In contrast, his son ate without manners at all—absolutely dreadful, with food scattered all over his clothes.

Every now and then, Zhang Shu glanced over at him, and the little prince avoided eye contact, afraid of being scolded for repaying kindness with ingratitude.

However, Zhang Shu didn’t scold him. He simply felt a bit sympathetic toward the little prince, remembering how, in his previous life, the boy’s father died young. Forced to suppress his natural recklessness, Zhao Chengzhang lived a life he didn’t enjoy.

Though he was a bit of a troublemaker now, at least he caused no harm to others—only to his family. It wasn’t too bad.

After lunch, the little rascal began to feel sleepy. Since there were no maids around to take care of him, he was a bit wilder than usual. After Li Mujin helped him bathe and change into fresh clothes, he looked quite presentable.

Prince Cheng carried him back to his room to sleep. As he watched his son’s peaceful face, a feeling of fatherly love stirred within him. The child was truly good-hearted—never holding grudges. Despite not being especially kind to him, Zhao Chengzhang still showed affection and looked up to him.

When Zhao Chengzhang woke up, Prince Cheng was still asleep. Quietly, he rolled out of bed and tiptoed toward the yard.

That morning, he saw two white lambs tied under a tree. He immediately went to them, gently touching them for a long while before trying to feed them with a dry branch.

The lambs kept backing away, not interested in the branch at all. They bleated when he prodded them.

Qianjin, hearing the noise, woke up. He glanced at his father and Aba, still asleep, then carefully got out of bed, making sure not to disturb them.

“Don’t touch my lamb!” Qianjin shouted angrily. He didn’t like the way Zhao Chengzhang was hitting the lamb with a stick.

Zhao Chengzhang ignored him, continuing to try to shove the branch into the lamb’s mouth.

With a fierce expression, Qianjin walked over and pushed Zhao Chengzhang. “Don’t touch my lamb!” he repeated, emphasizing the “my.”

“You dare hit me?” Zhao Chengzhang glared, mimicking his grandfather’s stern look. He raised a fist, then lowered it in frustration. His mother taught him not to hit girls or gers, but next time, he would ask his mother what to do if someone hit him first.

Zhang Qianjin was very well-liked in the village, and he was used to kindness. He was a little scared of someone so fierce, but luckily, this boy didn’t hit her.

“Don’t mess with my lamb,” Qianjin’s voice softened a little. “The lamb eats grass. Do you want to come with me to pick some?”

Zhao Chengzhang suddenly understood. He saw larger sheep eating branches on the road, but he forgot these lambs were much smaller and didn’t eat dry branches. They only ate tender grass.

Qianjin, carrying a small backpack, was about to leave. Zhao Chengzhang was curious, so he kept tugging at it. Qianjin finally relented and let him carry it.

Zhao Chengzhang carried the basket as they walked out of the house, with the large dog trailing behind them like a loyal guard.

Qianjin led him to a place where he often picked grass, which was between his yard and Dabao’s.

Zhao Chengzhang pulled out a tuft of grass and tossed it into the backpack. The backpack, once clean, was now dirty with mud.

Qianjin walked over, flipped the backpack, emptied the grass out, and knocked the mud off before cleaning it.

“What are you doing?” Zhao Chengzhang glared, confused. Was this an act of defiance?

“It’s too dirty!” Qianjin said with disdain, then demonstrated by putting fresh, tender grass into the backpack. He looked at Zhao Chengzhang expectantly, silently urging him to follow suit.

Zhao Chengzhang rolled his eyes. This was so dainty! He squatted down, pressing the grass roots with one hand and yanking up a large handful with the other.

Qianjin’s mouth dropped open in surprise. So much grass! He didn’t know it could be done like this!

Zhao Chengzhang smirked to himself, feeling proud. See, this is how a real man picks grass!

As they continued, Zhao Chengzhang suddenly heard the sound of a cricket. His eyes lit up, and he eagerly found it in the grass in the corner.

He pounced and caught the cricket. After playing with it for a while, he noticed Qianjin squatting nearby, his hair rustling in the breeze. A mischievous glint appeared in Zhao Chengzhang’s eyes. He couldn’t wait to scare the ger—just like the sisters in the palace and the maids at his house who were terrified of insects.

He walked up to Qianjin, holding the cricket, and suddenly spread his hands. “Look, what is this?”

Qianjin let out an “ah!” in surprise, but before he could react further, he snatched the cricket out of Zhao Chengzhang’s hands, threw it on the ground, and stepped on it.

“Thank you. The chicks really like these,” he said excitedly, his eyes sparkling. He saw the chicks eat these insects many times but never caught one himself.

Zhao Chengzhang stood frozen, utterly confused. Why wasn’t he afraid? His sisters at home would be terrified, and even his mother would scream!

In that moment, Qianjin’s small figure grew tall in Zhao Chengzhang’s eyes. He silently crouched down and continued picking grass, focusing intently on his task.

Qianjin couldn’t catch crickets, but he knew where to find other insects. He poked his head out, looking for them.

Suddenly, Zhao Chengzhang felt something long and squirming land in his hand. He looked down to see a small creature and looked up to find Qianjin smiling mischievously.

“Chickens also like to eat this kind of insect,” Qianjin said, his grin wide.

Zhao Chengzhang’s face contorted in terror. “Wow… ahh, ahhh!” he screamed, dropping the creature in panic.