Rebirth: Not Being a Waste - Chapter 8

“Shu, it’s time to eat. Grandma fried eggs for you.” Grandma Zhang stands at the door of Zhang Shu’s room, her voice kind and gentle.

Zhang Shu gets up from bed but doesn’t open the door. Standing beside it, he speaks to his grandmother outside. “Grandma, you guys eat first. I’m not hungry. I want to sleep a little longer.”

He doesn’t want his grandmother to see him covered in wounds.

“You’ll be starving if you don’t eat. Come out and have some. If you don’t eat, Grandma and Grandpa won’t either,” she says worriedly. Is he sick?

Zhang Shu has no choice but to open the door and step out.

“Oh my!” Grandma Zhang gasps at the sight of his bandaged head and hands. “What happened to you? Which kid beat you so badly?” Tears well up in her eyes as she reaches out hesitantly, wanting to touch his wounds but afraid to hurt him.

“It’s nothing, Grandma. I just wasn’t careful and fell. Little Mujin already helped me wrap it up.” Zhang Shu smiles and takes her hand, guiding it to touch his bandages as if to reassure her.

“Really?” She finds it odd, but seeing her grandson’s relaxed demeanor, he doesn’t seem like he has been bullied. She can only pull him toward the main hall. “Then you can have all the eggs today. You need to nourish yourself properly!”

“Grandma and Grandpa should eat too!”

“Alright, alright, we’ll eat together!”

Because Grandma Zhang gives almost half of her portion to Zhang Shu, the next day, when he goes out, he overhears the neighbors whispering.

“Such a big boy, yet he doesn’t know how to be considerate of his younger cousins? Cuilan’s second son and third daughter are much younger than him,” one woman mutters.

Another aunt clicks her tongue disapprovingly. “Aunt Zhang always spoils him. If it were me, I wouldn’t come back to take care of my parents. They’d have to beg me first!” She pouts, clearly displeased.

“Well, what do you expect? His parents died early, and his family spoiled him rotten. Even Cuilan herself said it—it’s fine for him to eat more. Her children have a father and mother, so why should he get the best food?”

“Cuilan is too kindhearted. How could an uncle be expected to raise a nephew? He’s already seventeen or eighteen, isn’t he? Yet he stays home all day doing nothing. Just a few days ago, my Er’gou bullied him, and he actually cried. Isn’t that ridiculous?”

Translator’s Name: In many parts of China, especially in rural areas, people used to give children “humble” names like Goudan (狗蛋, Dog Egg) or Er’gou (Second Dog) in the hope that evil spirits wouldn’t take notice of them.)

This last comment comes from Er’gou’s mother, who seems to take pride in her son’s ability to torment Zhang Shu. A group of women clucks like hens laying eggs, feeding off each other’s gossip. Discussing other people’s business is their form of entertainment.

One of them glances around casually and suddenly notices Zhang Shu standing nearby, clearly within earshot. She nudges Er’gou’s mother with her elbow and subtly signals her to look in his direction.

When Er’gou’s mother turns and meets Zhang Shu’s gaze, she hesitates for a moment but quickly regains her composure. With a loud voice, she sneers, “Some people are really shameless. A grown man eavesdropping on women’s conversations!”

They are the ones gossiping maliciously, yet when confronted, they turn the blame on him without a hint of guilt.

Zhang Shu stares at them steadily. “I heard that those who speak too much ill of others will go to hell. Hell of Tongue Ripping.”

(Translator’s Notes: The Hell of Tongue Ripping (拔舌地狱, Báshé Dìyù) is one of the Eighteen Levels of Hell (十八层地狱) in Chinese mythology and Buddhist beliefs. This hell is specifically designed for those who have lied, spread rumors, slandered, or used deceitful speech to harm others during their lifetime.)

His voice is low and eerie, his smile twisted. “Do you know how they do it? First, they use a sharp iron hook to reach into your throat. Then, they pull out your tongue inch by inch. Finally, they cut it off, piece by piece, with scissors.”

His words send a chill down their spines.

In his past life, it was his daughter-in-law who had said this. After recovering from a serious illness, she had changed completely—not only disregarding the ancestral family rules but also showing no fear of gods or spirits, let alone reputation.

When she spoke those words back then, the reaction was exactly the same as these women’s now—their faces turn pale with fright, their bodies trembling uncontrollably as if Zhang Shu is some kind of demon. But in reality, aren’t they the true demons?

They take people’s private affairs and parade them through the streets, building their joy upon the misery of others. Knowing nothing, they make baseless judgments, ruining reputations with a few careless words. Don’t they understand how terrifying rumors can be?

The women shriek and scatter in panic.

Zhang Shu turns and leaves, his face cold. He has spent his past life living like a coward. If he continues that way in this life, it would be a waste of the second chance given to him by the heavens.

At the village entrance, Brother Laiwang and a few others who work with him are already gathered, lounging on the stone bridge while smoking dry tobacco and exchanging crude jokes.

Laiwang glances up at Zhang Shu and frowns. His head and hands are still wrapped in bandages—how can he work like that? No employer would want an injured temp worker. Not only would he be useless, but others would fear he might fake an injury and demand compensation.

Zhang Shu is lost in thought and doesn’t notice their stares. It isn’t until he feels all eyes on him that he snaps back to reality.

Without a word, he removes the bandages from his head and hands, stuffing them into his basket. Then, he grins. “It’s just a small injury. It’s already healed. My grandma was just worried and insisted I wear them.”

In truth, he has noticed something strange. Since his last beating, his wounds seem to heal much faster in this life. The redness, swelling, and bruises barely last a day. The head injury from Wang Changfa and the scratches on his hands from yesterday have nearly disappeared overnight.

When he touches them, they are already scabbing over, almost ready to fall off.

He feels a surge of joy—is this heaven’s way of compensating him for his hardships in his past life?

But he knows he can’t tell anyone. If people find out, they might see him as some kind of miracle cure and hand him over to who-knows-where.

Laiwang seems slightly relieved after seeing that Zhang Shu is fine. He already dislikes having to take a useless person along—if he has to deal with a sick one, he would’ve refused outright.

“Alright, let’s go.” Laiwang counts the group before leading the way.

Their village is in a remote area. To reach the county town, they have to travel more than forty miles through winding mountain roads. Fortunately, the paths are wide enough for carriages, with extra space at every turn.

Zhang Shu has never owned a horse in his entire past life. His daughter-in-law, on the other hand, has acquired several and keeps them in her grand courtyard, making her look quite imposing.

It isn’t surprising that Zhang Shu keeps thinking about his daughter-in-law. After the family split up, the entire village watched as they went from poverty to wealth, eventually gaining renown even in the county. Everyone envied them, and some even deliberately imitated her mannerisms.

Silently, Zhang Shu trudges along, carrying his work basket on his back. He wants to join in the conversation, but the older men don’t seem to like him much. They chat and laugh ahead of him, leaving him behind.

Thinking back, in his past life, aside from Little Mujin, he had no real friends his own age. But Xiao Mujin is a ger, and his interests differ from those of other men.

But later… Little Mujin too is gone.

“Let’s rest here for a bit!” someone calls.

Every ten miles, there is a pavilion built for travelers to rest. Now, they have reached the second-mile pavilion (Erli Pavilion).

The sun hangs high in the sky, but the road is lined with mountains on one side and a river on the other, keeping the air cool. Even after walking twenty miles, it doesn’t feel too hot.

The men find places to sit, but Zhang Shu chooses a stone outside the pavilion. He silently takes out his dry food and begins to eat.