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The Ruined Song Family

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When Song Mu woke up again, it was already morning.
Although his head still felt a bit heavy and his body lacked strength, Song Mu carefully sat up.

Looking at the thin blanket covering him, Song Mu glanced around the room in the dim moonlight seeping in from outside.

The house had an ancient design with carved beams and painted rafters, exuding a classical charm. However, strangely enough, the four white walls were bare, and even the paper on the carved windows was yellowed and tattered.

As he looked down at the floor, he noticed patches of exposed dirt, with the floor much lower than the corners of the room, where a few broken green bricks remained.

Someone had clearly dug up the green bricks that once covered the entire floor.

As for Song Mu’s bed, it was just a wooden plank resting on two long benches. Besides a pile of books stacked in one corner, there was nothing else in the room. The tables and chairs that once furnished the house had long since disappeared.

Only then did Song Mu remember that yesterday Dr. Liu had treated him. No wonder his medicine box was still there.

Despite the house’s once grandeur, it had fallen into such disrepair.

Song Mu shook his head and sighed softly, preparing to get up and find some water.

No matter how bad things were, as long as one was alive, everything could change.

“Hey, Mu, you’re awake?”

Just as Song Mu was about to get out of bed, a muffled voice came from a corner, and then a short, stout figure rose from the ground and approached him. Song Mu was startled, but seeing it was a person, he quickly calmed down.

“Second Uncle, why are you here?”

“I was worried you’d have another attack during the night, so I stayed here to take care of you. How are you feeling now? Do you want something to eat? I’ll get you some.”

Song Liangda looked at Song Mu with concern as he lit an oil lamp. Only then did Song Mu sew the bedding spread out in the corner, where his second uncle had clearly slept.

Grateful for his uncle’s thoughtfulness, Song Mu pursed his lips and shook his head slightly.

“I’ll just get some water. I’m fine now, Uncle.”

“Don’t get up. I’ll bring it to you. There’s still some medicine left from yesterday, too. I’ll get that for you as well.”

Song Liangda helped Song Mu sit down on the bed and quickly went outside. Soon, his voice could be heard calling for his wife in the courtyard.

The courtyard became a bit livelier as the morning light crept in. Song Mu wrapped his clothes around himself and leaned against the window. Outside, the atmosphere was filled with the warmth of daily life.

Song Mu sighed, fully accepting the situation. In his previous life, there were many things left unfinished, but in this life, at least, he wouldn’t die in such a pathetic way.

Before long, Song Liangda returned with a bowl of water and a bowl of medicine. A little girl followed behind him.

This was his second uncle’s only daughter, Song Mingwei, a girl of about seven or eight, nicknamed “Yaya.”

The little girl wasn’t particularly fair-skinned, but her large eyes sparkled in the candlelight. Her two small, slightly yellowed braids swayed as she carefully pulled a small handkerchief from her pocket. She unwrapped it and handed Song Mu a piece of brown sugar.

“Big Brother, here’s some candy. Eat it after you take your medicine.”

The little girl spoke thoughtfully, clutching the handkerchief tightly, her eyes reluctantly leaving the sugar cube she had placed in Song Mu’s hand. Inside her handkerchief, there were only a few small crumbs left.

“Alright, Yaya, go tell your mother to bring in the food. We will have breakfast in Mu’s room today.” Song Liangda said as the little girl quickly ran out.

“Mu, drink the medicine first, then we’ll eat. You haven’t had any proper food for days, and your body can’t take it.”

Song Liangda urged as he handed the medicine to Song Mu. Song Mu nodded, and without flinching, downed the murky liquid in one go.

“Slow down, slow down, no need to rush.” Song Liangda patted Song Mu’s back. He cared more for his nephew than his own daughter.

Having overmedicated himself in his youth, Song Liangda had become short, stocky, and unhealthy. The doctor had said he was lucky to even have one child. Now, with his brother gone, leaving only this one nephew, Song Liangda was determined to keep Song Mu safe.

His nephew had always been polite and hardworking, though somewhat awkward in social situations. Despite everything, he had shown great talent in his studies. The year after Song Mu’s father passed away, he had passed the county-level examination on his own, giving the struggling Song family a glimmer of hope.

However, Song Liangda couldn’t understand why his nephew, who had always informed him of his whereabouts, had gone to such a dangerous place without a word.

Song Mu, having just suppressed the bitter taste of the medicine, had no idea what his uncle was thinking. He only knew that his body was too frail, and he would need to strengthen it if he wanted to survive.

Not long after, Song Liangda’s wife, Zhu Shi, arrived with food. Song Liangda helped set up the table and chairs. Song Mu wanted to assist, but they wouldn’t let him.

Zhu Shi was a stout woman with a strong presence. Song Mu knew from his memories that she had come from a poor farming family. When the Song family could no longer afford a bride price, Zhu Shi had been chosen for Song Liangda.

Since Song Mu’s parents had passed away, Zhu Shi had worked hard to support the family, but it was only enough to feed the four of them.

“Mu, eat more. Here’s some chicken I made for you. Yesterday, you only had some broth. Today, eat plenty.”

Song Liangda piled the chicken into Song Mu’s bowl. Song Mu thanked him and urged everyone to eat, but they didn’t touch their food.

Sighing, Song Mu ate a piece of chicken and placed a drumstick in Song Mingwei’s bowl.

“Yaya, help me with this drumstick. I can’t finish it.” Song Mu said, stopping his uncle from intervening and pressing the drumstick into the little girl’s bowl.

After some hesitation, Song Mingwei thanked him, and the meal continued in relative silence.

Zhu Shi wiped her eyes, muttering softly, “My poor Mu, almost at death’s door. He’s supposed to be a future scholar, meant to bring honor to our family.”

Song Liangda, not wanting to discuss such depressing matters at the table, asked Song Mu, “Tell me, why did you go to that dangerous place the other day?”

Song Mu was momentarily stunned but could only shake his head helplessly.

As for why he had sought death, Song Mu had no memory of it. He only recalled that after leaving the city, he was angrily heading toward an old grave, but that place wasn’t Guiyang.

“Uncle, I really don’t remember.” Song Mu could only say this to Song Lianda. Seeing his sincere expression and that he was unwilling to explain further, Song Lianda didn’t press him and let it go.

The conversation shifted to this year’s provincial exams. Song Mu was preparing to take the exam in the provincial capital, but the expenses for the trip had yet to be settled.

“Mu’er, just focus on getting better. Your aunt and I still have some strength left, and we can manage to gather a few silver coins. If it comes to it… Shiyang County is rebuilding the city walls, and I can go work there.”

“Yes, this time we won’t be deceived by those villains again, letting them take all our family’s property, even prying up our green bricks…” Aunt Zhu said tearfully from the side.

Song Mu knew that the city wall construction was a government-imposed corvée, heavy and exhausting labor.

The Song family had been exempt from forced labor due to the literary honors of Song Liantong and Song Mu’s status as a licentiate, but working could still earn a few dozen copper coins a day.

When Song Lianda said this, he practically gritted his teeth. For the sake of his nephew, the current heir of the Song family, he was ready to throw all caution to the wind.

Song Mu also put down his bowl, his left hand silently clenched into a fist.

Since he was now alive in this world, he certainly wouldn’t be someone who will just sat idly by.

As for the matter of Guiyang, he knew he hadn’t gone to such a dangerous place—so who had tried to push him toward death?