Sweep Yuan

Chapter 1 The Poisonous Fake Tartar

"Third brother! My third brother—!"

Ishiyama's last memory was clearly being engulfed by the flames of the plane explosion, an annihilation that didn't even have time to transmit the pain.

At this moment, this heart-wrenching wail was like a rusty, dull knife, forcefully pulling him out of nothingness!

Could it be that I've traveled through time?!

Just as he was wondering, countless fragments of memories suddenly flooded into his mind.

The aching back from cutting grass, the filth from collecting manure, the loneliness of shepherding, the brutality of wrestling, the whipping of conscription, the cold nights of guarding the city, the excruciating pain of whipping, the delirium of high fever, all finally culminated in a fiery red shooting star tearing through the night sky.

"Waaaah... Third Brother, wake up..."

Warm liquid kept splashing onto Shi Shan's face, sliding into the corners of his mouth; it was a little salty—it was tears.

Shishan was trying to suppress his tears and sort out the jumbled memories in his mind before "waking up" after figuring out the situation when a gust of wind suddenly blew in. A foul wind carrying the strong smell of urine, the sourness of old sweat, and the stench of fresh blood rushed into his nostrils and straight to the top of his head.

“Ugh—cough cough cough!!”

The intense physical discomfort caused Ishiyama to cough violently, which also signaled the "resurrection" of this body.

"Third Brother! Waaah... I thought you were dead..."

Shishan could sense the man's grief and joy, but the feeling of this embrace was truly unpleasant—like being wrapped in a tattered sack that hadn't been washed for three years, the smell making him see stars.

"Cough... Ugh... Tighten it a little more... I'm going to be... suffocated by your stench!" Shishan struggled to get the words out.

The man quickly released his arm and helped Shishan up, but didn't let go completely, as if afraid he would fall.

The flickering firelight illuminated the man's dirty, coarse cloth shirt and his dark face, which was covered in snot. With each sob and exhale, he accidentally blew out a snot bubble, completely unaware of it.

"I can stand up by myself, you wipe your face first."

Shi Shan calmly pulled away from the dark-faced man's hand, creating distance between them, and, suppressing his dizziness, looked around.

A torch was stuck diagonally in a crack in the wall not far away, barely illuminating an area of ​​about ten feet. The base of the ancient city wall was damp and pungent with the smell of urine, and two waist knives were casually lying on the ground.

The dark-faced man wiped his face haphazardly with his dirty sleeve and chuckled foolishly.
"Third Brother, what are you looking at?"

Shi Shan's memories were churning like boiling porridge; he couldn't recognize the person in front of him at all, and could only vaguely recall:

"You...you are?"

"I'm the fifth one!"

The dark-faced man grew anxious, leaned closer to the tear-smeared, dark face, and said:

"Third Brother, are you perhaps confused from the fall?!"

"Li... Wu?"

This name was like a key, instantly unlocking more memories of the original owner of Shishan's body—Yidu military household, impoverished brothers, issuing orders in Xuzhou…

Once again overwhelmed by a massive flood of memories, Shi Shan felt a splitting headache. He raised his hand to rub his temples, but his fingertips touched a half-congealed scab.

Li Wu, recalling the encounter between Shi San and Shi Shan with a blank expression, stared at Shi Shan's temples and said with concern:
"Third Brother, are you alright?"

The original Shi San must have died on the spot from a head injury, which is why Shi Shan took his place. At this moment, the wound has already scabbed over, so Shi Shan was unaware that he had a head injury until he touched it and felt some pain.

Shi Shan suppressed his shock and forced himself to remain calm as he entered the tunnel:
"Hmm... all done. It's just like a long dream, I can't remember many things."

"He fell from such a high wall. May the Bodhisattva have saved Third Brother from this calamity. He's destined to become rich, marry three wives, and have a whole bunch of kids..." Li Wu rambled on, his eyes filled with genuine joy.

Shi Shan's head was throbbing with pain, so he quickly pointed to the city wall and changed the subject, saying, "I remember it was the two of us on guard duty tonight? How could I—"

"Hey you! Are you dead or not? If you're not dead, stop lying there like a corpse! Get the hell out of here and go patrol the city!"

The sharp and sarcastic insults pierced Shi Shan's ears.

The insults came from their squad leader—Yang Chaolu, a Han Chinese fake Tartar with a Mongolian name (Chaolu means "stone" in Mongolian)!

The voice was like a poisonous sting, instantly igniting the humiliation and hatred that had been building up in his past life's memories. Shi Shan unconsciously clenched his teeth, his fists so tight that his knuckles turned white.

Seeing this, Li Wu hurriedly pulled him up, grabbed the waist knife from the ground, and left.

"Okay! We'll go up right now, right now!"

Shishan also realized that he was affected by the remaining memories of the original owner of the body. He took a deep breath, suppressed the hatred surging in his heart, took the knife, and stepped onto the unprotected ramp leading to the city.

Li Wu hurried to the outside, using his body to block the rocky hill, and frequently reminded him anxiously:
"Third Brother, slow down...step carefully..."

Shi Shan has gradually taken control of this new body. His steps are steady and his eyes are sharp. Even without Li Wu's protection, he will be fine.

"Third Brother, are you really alright?" Li Wu was still worried even after climbing onto the city wall.

Shishan was also eager to find out what had happened to the original owner of his body before he transmigrated.

"What? What happened to me before?"

"It's all that bastard Yang Chaolu's fault!"

Li Wu clearly hated Yang Chaolu intensely, speaking through gritted teeth.

"Knowing you were sick with shivering, you still forced us to go on patrol. Then, a huge ball of fire flew by in the sky, and I got blinded by it. I couldn't hold you up, and you... you tumbled down, hit your head on a rock, and died. Ugh, you just passed out!"

Li Wu's voice trembled as he recalled the scene of Shi San's "tragic death".

"When I was five, I fell into a cesspool, and you called for help to save me; when I was eight, I stole persimmons from Wang Baihu's house and was chased by dogs, and you helped distract them..."

Li Wu kept rambling on, but Shi Shan didn't find him annoying anymore and took the opportunity to sort out the messy memories in his mind.

His predecessor, Shi San, was nineteen years old. He was from Yidu Road, Xuanwei Division, Shandong East and West Circuit. His parents had both passed away. Of his nine siblings, four had survived. His eldest sister had been married for many years, leaving only his second brother to raise him and his sixth brother. They lived in poverty and were originally military households that did not have to contribute men.

Three months ago, Liu Futong, a powerful local tyrant in Yingzhou, and Du Zundao, a retired official, rebelled and repeatedly defeated government troops, greatly worsening the situation in the Jiangbei and Henan provinces.

The imperial court urgently dispatched troops from all directions to encircle and suppress Liu Futong's forces, and also conscripted a large number of military households from the surrounding areas to fill the gap in the military strength in Henan.

The sons of the regular military households had just died in battle, and there were no more men to be conscripted. The only option was to forcibly conscript the Shi family, who were originally registered as military households. Because the task was too urgent, Shi Sanlian had not even gathered enough "supplied supplies" (self-supplied materials), let alone money to "pay tribute" to his superiors.

Yang Chaolu was originally from the same village as Shi San and Li Wu, but because there was no money to be made out of them, he made things extremely difficult for them.

The day before yesterday, Yang Chaolu forced Li Wu to chop firewood, which caused his waist knife to become dull. He wanted to punish Li Wu for "intentionally damaging weapons and armor." However, Shi San argued his case and did not dare to make a big fuss. Instead, Yang Chaolu seized on the pretext of "disrespecting his superior" and whipped both of them twenty times.

Shi San had a fever today due to a whip injury, and he was somewhat delirious. He shouldn't have been on patrol.

Yang Chaolu, however, used the excuse that the patrol shifts had already been arranged and could not be adjusted at the last minute, and forced Shi San to go up to the city, clearly not giving him a way out.

The enmity between the two sides runs deep. If they don't find a way to get rid of this fake Tartar as soon as possible, they may suffer even greater punishment in the future.

However, compared to their personal feud, there was a more pressing matter at hand.

　A newbie author is being adorable online, asking for votes, to read more, to promote, and to be supported!

　　
　
(End of this chapter)