The scorching sun hung high in the sky, the sand and stones on the road sizzling under the heat, as a group of exiles struggled onward.

The guards, tasked with escorting the prisoners, were drenched in sweat, too tired to bother urging the prisoners to move faster. Whenever they saw someone stop, they simply lashed them with a whip, hoping to make them remember.

Under the threat of the whip, those who could still move tried to keep going. But some, who could no longer endure, slowed down even after being lashed a few times, dragging their feet with every step.

“Zhang Tou, how about we take a break and have some food? The sun’s too hot. If we keep going, the brothers won’t make it.” One of the guards spoke up.

Zhang Tou glanced at the other guards, all of whom were drenched in sweat and had flushed faces. They all seemed eager for a break, clearly unable to keep going much longer.

“Fine, let’s rest.” Zhang Tou gave the order, and the other guards’ faces lit up with relief.

Without needing the guards to drive them, the prisoners rushed towards the shade of the trees, jostling for a spot. One young man was a little slow to react and was knocked to the ground by the others.

The guard didn’t care much, but after a while, seeing that the young man hadn’t gotten up, one of the guards grew impatient and kicked him.

“Stop pretending to be dead!”

The harsh shout, accompanied by the pain in his calf, woke Jiang Huai up.

Jiang Huai opened his eyes, feeling the soreness in his legs. His mind was still foggy—had he stayed up late playing games yesterday, not hiking? Why did his legs feel sore as if he’d overexerted himself?

But what bothered him the most was the fact that he had just been kicked. He was a little angry; even if they were calling him to get up, they didn’t have to go that far, right?

Gritting his teeth, Jiang Huai turned his head, and the blazing sun hit his eyes, making them sting. He instinctively squinted and focused his gaze, finally seeing the guard’s face clearly, only to freeze in shock.

“Still not getting up? Wasting my time,” the guard muttered, seeing that Jiang Huai was still alive. He cursed a few more times and left. After all, there wasn’t much time to rest, and they couldn’t waste any more of it.

Moreover, the guard noticed how pale Jiang Huai looked, his face almost colorless. From his experience of escorting prisoners, he could tell Jiang Huai wouldn’t last long. No need to waste more words.

Under the fierce midday sun, the heat felt unbearable, but all Jiang Huai could feel was a coldness creeping through his body.

He looked at the exhausted prisoners and the menacing guards. He wanted to believe someone was playing a cruel joke on him, but he couldn’t convince himself otherwise. Who would go through the trouble of hiring so many actors to trick him?

Suddenly, a surge of memories hit him, and a sharp pain shot through his head. Instinctively, he held his forehead.

As the memories fully settled in, Jiang Huai’s face turned blank, and the sinking feeling in his chest told him everything.

He had really crossed over.

The original body’s name was also Jiang Huai. He came from a prestigious family and had lived a life of luxury, surrounded by wealth and status. Unfortunately, life took a turn when the family’s patriarch, Grand Tutor Jiang, was caught up in a plot against the Crown Prince. In light of his previous contributions in teaching the Emperor, he wasn’t executed immediately, but his entire family was punished: their wealth was seized, and they were exiled.

The original Jiang Huai was the only son of the third branch of the Jiang family, and he too was part of the exile. Now, he was being escorted to the frontier.

However, the original Jiang Huai had been in poor health for a long time. After enduring the rough treatment in prison and being forced to march under the scorching sun for two days, his body reached its limit. When he was knocked down, the soul inside switched to Jiang Huai’s.

Jiang Huai felt like crying but had no tears. If he had known that staying up all night playing games would lead to him crossing over, he would’ve definitely gotten more sleep.

But now that it had happened, it was no use regretting it.

The sun was unbearably hot, and although Jiang Huai’s body felt cold, the heat still made him uncomfortable. He forced himself to stand up.

Seeing the large group of prisoners packed under the shade of the tree, Jiang Huai didn’t join them. Instead, he stumbled to the side and hid behind a bush.

In the memories of the original body, these prisoners were not easy people to get along with. The original Jiang Huai had once lost his food to them, simply because he didn’t know how to protect himself.

The guards only gave them food once a day, and if it was taken, they would have to go hungry for the rest of the day. This constant struggle for food was one of the reasons the original body’s health deteriorated so quickly.

Jiang Huai didn’t dare to risk getting his food stolen again.

But thinking about food made his stomach burn with hunger, and he suddenly remembered something. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a dry, yellowish flatbread.

The bread smelled faintly of grain, but the scent was barely there. It looked rough and hard, difficult to chew. There was a small bite taken out of it—by the original body. The bread was so dry and hard that he could only manage a single bite before giving up.

Recalling the taste, Jiang Huai also didn’t feel like eating it, but the pangs of hunger were unbearable. After hesitating for a moment, he took a bite of the flatbread.

The moment it touched his tongue, Jiang Huai realized his memories had perhaps exaggerated the taste. The bread was rough, scraping his throat. Even after chewing for a long time, it was still hard to swallow.

As for the taste… Jiang Huai didn’t even know how to describe it. He just forced himself to ignore the flavor and pushed the bread down his throat.

Just getting up had already left his arms and legs weak. If he didn’t eat, he wouldn’t be able to keep walking in the afternoon. The guards wouldn’t allow him to slack off, and Jiang Huai didn’t want to experience the whip again.

After taking a few more bites of the flatbread, the hunger was slightly alleviated, but it was replaced by an even stronger thirst.

Since he had dry food, Jiang Huai instinctively thought he would have a water bottle. However, after searching his entire body, he didn’t find one.

He realized his guess was wrong and reviewed the memories again, falling into silence.

Exiled prisoners didn’t have water bottles. Only the guards did. Why would the guards let them use their water?

If the prisoners were thirsty, they could only drink when they came across a stream or river, or if the guards allowed them to fetch water from a well.

As for the relay stations—they offered a place to sleep, but if you wanted water, you had to pay for it.

And right now…

Jiang Huai swallowed dryly, then turned his head. Nearby, there was a small stream with clear, flowing water. Many of the prisoners, parched from thirst, had already been allowed to drink in small groups.

The water was clear, and Jiang Huai’s thirst grew stronger the more he stared at it.

Although drinking from the stream carried the risk of parasites, he couldn’t focus on that now. The sun above his head and the dryness in his throat made him choose to drink. Dehydration was a far greater threat to his current body than the risk of parasites.

The prisoners were all parched, with some even lying down in the stream, drinking hungrily. By the time Jiang Huai stood up, most of them had already had their fill.

Jiang Huai walked slowly to the stream. He bent down to scoop up some water, but as soon as his hand touched the water, he noticed it was dirty.

Thinking back to when he had been lying on the ground earlier, Jiang Huai took a deep breath, trying not to think about whether the flatbread had any dirt on it. He carefully washed his hands.

Even though the water wasn’t perfectly clean, it was still better to drink from a clean hand.

Jiang Huai scooped up some water and sipped it slowly. The cool water soothed his parched throat.

After drinking a few mouthfuls, Jiang Huai didn’t forget to take out the flatbread he hadn’t eaten much of earlier. He dipped each bite of bread into the water and ate it slowly.

He had originally planned to save it for the evening, but after those few bites of dry food, he knew the flatbread was too hard to eat without water. And even if he ate it later, it would only make him thirstier, and he didn’t know when he’d get another chance to drink.

It was better to eat it while he could drink, making it easier to swallow and reducing the effort of chewing.

When Zhang Tou noticed Jiang Huai by the water, sitting still and eating bread, he furrowed his brows. But seeing that Jiang Huai wasn’t doing anything suspicious, just quietly eating by the water, he didn’t feel the need to intervene.

If it had been anyone else, Zhang Tou would’ve gone over to chase them away, but Jiang Huai was in such poor health that Zhang Tou could tell with one glance that even if Jiang Huai tried to escape, he wouldn’t make it far. The sun was so hot, and they didn’t have much time to rest, so he didn’t bother.

“Zhang Tou, this young master from a prestigious family really isn’t ordinary. Even eating dry flatbread, his posture is something else, isn’t it?” One of the guards spoke, his eyes shining with interest.

Zhang Tou immediately recognized who had spoken. He knew the guard had a fondness for men and frowned, warning him, “You better not get any ideas. Don’t forget, he’s charged with treason.”

Although the main culprits were Grand Tutor Jiang and other senior family members, as the only son of the third branch of the Jiang family, Jiang Huai’s crime wasn’t light either.

For lesser exiles with lighter crimes, some leeway could be given, but Jiang Huai’s case was different. If anything happened to him, and it got reported… the consequences would be clear.

Moreover, with Jiang Huai’s family in such a mess, who knew if there were any friends or relatives who might still try to help? If word got out, they’d be crushed without mercy.

Sun Yong felt his fantasy burst in frustration, as well as the bitterness of being looked down on. But he didn’t dare to show any of that in front of Zhang Tou. Smiling, he replied, “Zhang Tou, what are you thinking? I’ve just never seen such a young master from a prestigious family, it’s all so new to me. I didn’t mean anything else.”

Zhang Tou glanced at Sun Yong and saw through his insincere words, but didn’t press further. He knew Sun Yong was lecherous but still had a clear head; otherwise, he wouldn’t have lasted so long as a guard.

However…

Zhang Tou looked up, his eyes drifting toward the stream.

There, a young boy, frail but beautiful, was kneeling by the water. His features were delicate, his hands holding the flatbread as he took small, careful bites, his brow furrowed in a way that made him look vulnerable.

After eating a few bites, the boy seemed to choke a little. He bent down to scoop some water, bringing it to his lips, then resumed eating the bread.

The boy’s figure was like a slender bamboo, fragile yet resilient, radiating life in a way that was undeniably tempting to certain individuals.