Chapter 1: Womb Transmigration

Year 23 of the Taiqi era, Sunjia Village, Wild Boar Slope.

“Shanzi, come here and pay respects, let Grandpa bless you,” came a low, steady female voice.

Sun Shan obediently walked over, knelt down, took the three incense sticks handed by Madam Su, bowed three times, and stuck the incense into the earth. Then Madam Su murmured quietly, saying something like: “Ancestors bless us, grandpa bless us, bless my son with health, growth, safety, and happiness.”

Afterwards, she poured tea and wine onto the ground three times each.

A man beside them called out, “Shanzi, move aside, Dad is lighting the firecrackers.”

Soon, the quiet forest was filled with the sharp, echoing sound of firecrackers.

Madam Su lifted the basket of offerings, while the man carried Sun Shan on his back, and they descended the mountain together.

“You’re back. Did you pay respects at Wild Boar Slope?” As soon as Sun Shan stepped into the house, an elderly woman with half-white hair, around fifty years old, approached.

Seeing Sun Shan, her face lit up with joy. She took the little grandson’s hand and led him into the main hall.

Madam Su and the man called out, “Mother, we’ve paid respects,” then went off to the kitchen.

“Grandma, I paid respects and even kowtowed to Grandpa,” Sun Shan replied obediently.

The old woman affectionately patted the boy’s head and said kindly, “That’s good, that’s good. Let Grandpa bless you.”

“Mom, how will the pork be cooked?” The man came out of the kitchen, carrying the offering—two pounds of pork belly, already blanched.

“Tell Madam Su to braise it; we’ll eat it tonight,” the old woman said, glancing at the early winter dusk. It was time to prepare dinner.

The man acknowledged and took the pork to the kitchen, handing it to Madam Su with instructions to make braised pork.

Madam Su nodded and resumed bustling about in the kitchen with her daughters.

The old woman entered the parlor, unlocked the door to another room, led Sun Shan inside, lifted the lid off a black-and-gold earthenware pot, took out a palm-sized flaky biscuit, and handed it to her grandson with a smile. “Have a lick, soon there’ll be a meal. Tonight we’re having braised pork.”

Sun Shan happily took the biscuit and nodded stiffly. “Grandma, I’m going out to play.”

“Go ahead, but don’t wander far. It’s cold,” the old woman said kindly, adjusting his padded jacket, which was warm enough.

Sun Shan stepped out of the parlor, greeted his parents, then left the house to wander to the village’s small pond.

Sigh.

He sighed deeply, gazing into the distance, lost in thought once more.

He had been in this time and space for five years now—he was a “womb traveler” in the novel.

Almost a premature baby.

The old saying goes that a seven-month pregnancy results in survival, ten months is full term, but eight months means death.

Sun Shan was born at eight months. At that time, his whole family thought he wouldn’t live past three days. Madam Su wept bitterly.

No one knew if it was heaven taking pity on Madam Su or if, carrying memories from a past life, his will to survive was so strong that he lived past three days, past his first month, and reached the age of five.

Madam Su cherished him as if holding a precious treasure, afraid to drop him or let him melt away in her mouth, doting on Sun Shan as if he were a second-generation heir.

The reason for today’s sacrifice at Wild Boar Slope was that Sun Shan was born there.

According to Madam Su’s recollections, five years ago, pregnant at eight months, she went up the mountain as usual to pick wild vegetables.

That day, the mountain was especially quiet. Usually, villagers would be coming and going, but as noon approached, the man was about to return home to prepare lunch.

Madam Su bundled the vegetables hurriedly and started down the mountain.

Passing Wild Boar Slope, for some unknown reason, she stepped on a stone, twisted her ankle, and tumbled down the slope.

Panicked, she clutched her belly, finally stopping when her back hit a large rock.

After a scream, pain surged through her back, and she saw blood flowing from below, staining the ground.

Feeling her belly, the pain intensified—she was about to give birth.

Having had four children already, the sensation was all too familiar.

She cried out loudly, but to no avail—no one was around. Wild Boar Slope was usually frequented by villagers, but that day it was deserted.

Fearful, she endured the pain, trying to climb back up, but failed.

Thanks to her experience with multiple childbirths and midwives’ teachings, she endured the long, agonizing labor.

Finally, the baby was born.

Covered in blood, Madam Su quickly parted the infant’s legs.

Thank heaven—it was a little boy!

With a surge of will to survive, she lifted the baby and slapped his feet hard.

After a cry, she fainted. Later, Uncle Sun Bomin found her and hurriedly carried her home to summon a doctor.

Madam Su later recalled thinking she was done for after tumbling down, not knowing where the strength came from to stop herself from rolling further, eventually stopping at a stone barrier.

At the brink of unconsciousness, she inexplicably drew a breath into her mouth, which kept her alive long enough to give birth.

In a hazy vision, she saw a man carrying a basket full of herbs, blowing a breath into the baby’s mouth, coaxing him to cry.

Then the man vanished.

Her family, especially her mother-in-law and the man, wept upon hearing the story. The man whispered, “That was Grandpa, that was Grandpa. Grandpa blesses us, blesses us with descendants.”

It turned out that her father-in-law, while gathering herbs in the mountains, was attacked by wild boars at Wild Boar Slope, fell, lost too much blood, and died there.

Now, Madam Su, heavily pregnant, had also tumbled down Wild Boar Slope, yet was able to give birth safely—mother and child unharmed—a true miracle.

It must be Grandpa’s blessing.

Gradually, every New Year and festival, Madam Su would bring her son to Wild Boar Slope to offer tributes, praying for her late husband’s protection.

Today was the Winter Solstice, a greater celebration than the New Year, and the villagers of Sunjia all came out to honor their ancestors and deities.

Sun Shan left the house and slowly walked along the village path. It was boring to stay inside, so he wandered beyond the village at random.

He nibbled on the flaky biscuit.

Delicious!

In his previous life, he wouldn’t have even glanced at such a biscuit.

Sunjia Village, as the name suggests, was inhabited entirely by people surnamed Sun, all descended from the same ancestor.

It was said that a hundred years ago, the forebear fled war and chaos, crossing mountains and rivers to settle here.

Sun Shan looked around. The village was surrounded by mountains on all sides, with only one so-called “village path” leading out. This path crossed two mountains before reaching the town, and from there another journey to the county seat.

No wonder the ancestors, having escaped here, never fled again. It was a remote, isolated place with poor transportation and few benefits.

It was also no wonder that whether in times of turmoil or peace, Sunjia Village had lived quietly and safely. Only when going out to pay taxes did they realize the world had changed; the emperor was no longer emperor.

Sun Shan sat on the ridge between fields, sighing.

In his past life, he was an orphan supported by the state, gloomy in the orphanage, disliked even by the director.

He was often beaten and fed poorly.

But he always knew he had to study hard. His grades were excellent, and with perseverance, he caught the last train into a prestigious university’s agricultural program.

After graduation, he used the same determination to become a low-ranking staff member at an agricultural research institute—an institution with permanent posts but few competitors.

He worked in agricultural science research.

For Sun Shan, this was enough.

Because of his orphan status, although his grades were average, he received government subsidies covering living and tuition expenses, so he graduated debt-free.

After a few years of frugality, plus living in dormitories with meals provided by his workplace, he saved money.

No romance, no marriage. His workplace was in a remote mountain area where housing prices were low.

He had saved enough for a down payment and was preparing to buy a house.