Chapter 31: Too Much Silver, So He Asked Where It Came From

Seeing He Yanxin still looking unsettled and downcast, Song Yeqing decided to tell him her suspicions about having transmigrated and the two “golden cheats” she might possess.

With that, they completely laid everything bare to each other.

He Yanxin… He didn’t quite understand it all, but he was utterly shocked!

So the underworld really exists? He’d always thought it was just a myth or legend.

And honestly, weren’t they a little too careless? Not even asking whether someone wanted to transmigrate…

Of course, if it really came down to a choice between a fate worse than death and transmigrating, he’d pick transmigrating. He was just being real about it!

Looking at Song Yeqing seated calmly across from him, He Yanxin felt the world was too complicated—far beyond what he could handle.

Most people have connections “up there.” This one? She had people down below.

But still…

He Yanxin glanced around cautiously, then carefully asked Song Yeqing, “There isn’t… y’know, that… here, right?”

Song Yeqing: “That what?”

He made a spooky face.

Song Yeqing understood and shook her head. He finally let out a sigh of relief.

Good, good. As long as there’s nothing like that.

Although from the original host’s experience, it seemed like he was a rare exception. But his own experience had really left him traumatized.

Because of a malicious ghost, he had lost his life. How could he not be scared?

“What are you thinking? Leave or stay together?” Song Yeqing asked.

“Together.”

Now that he had fully become this world’s He Yanxin and knew how things would end, he had to stay.

Of course, with his own strength alone, it was impossible to turn the tide and save everyone.

But at the very least, he could protect the original host’s family and try to avoid the tragic fate the neighboring Wu family met in their previous life.

He Yanxin handed her the two hundred taels in silver notes and the ten or so taels left after shopping.

He didn’t keep a single coin for himself—after all, there was nowhere to spend money anyway. Better to mooch off Song Yeqing.

“It’s safer with you. Keep it in your space. Consider it my living expenses.”

“Where did you get this?” Song Yeqing looked at the over two hundred taels and couldn’t help asking.

If she remembered correctly, they had only arrived three days ago, right? And he’d already raked in this much money?

They both transmigrated—why was he so impressive?

Since arriving, the farthest she’d gone was the front gate.

Taking care of a child really meant she couldn’t go anywhere. And even if she could bring the child out, Song Yeqing wouldn’t feel safe doing so.

Those little arms and legs—if there were danger, she wouldn’t even be able to run while carrying the child.

Speaking of the money, He Yanxin looked a little embarrassed but eventually explained that he had pretended to be a master and sold “information” to the magistrate of Yongqing County.

That day, he had just woken up and was racking his brain for a quick way to earn some money. Then it hit him—he could use the original host’s memories.

Why the magistrate specifically?

First, in the original timeline, the morning after the host arrived in the county, he passed by the magistrate’s residence and saw a few servants handing out coins at the gate.

Turns out, the magistrate’s wife—an older woman—had miraculously conceived and given birth to a young son. Because the child was born under auspicious stars, they were joyfully handing out good fortune.

So if he showed up and spoke a few auspicious words, even if they didn’t believe his message, they likely wouldn’t treat him badly on such a joyous day.

Second, from the original host’s memory, the magistrate wasn’t a bad official.

When Prince Qi forbade opening the granaries, the magistrate had secretly disobeyed the order and distributed grain to the people. During his time in office, he never bullied the villagers.

Also, he came from a wealthy and powerful Zhao family in the capital.

Third, the magistrate had a tragic end in the previous life—his estate was stormed by refugees, and his entire family was beaten to death.

As long as the magistrate cared about his family, and if He Yanxin could convince him of the message, selling the information wouldn’t be too hard.

That day, He Yanxin got up early, timed it perfectly, and arrived outside the magistrate’s residence a little after six. After triple-checking his approach, he knocked on the door.

“Please excuse me. I would like to request an audience with the magistrate,” he said with a calm and composed smile to the gatekeeper.

This had to be the right move, he thought, using the original host’s memory along with some improvisation to bolster his act.

The gatekeeper only cracked the door slightly and looked troubled.

“My lord has matters to attend to today… this gentleman—” He hesitated, unsure what to call him based on his appearance.

“Please come back tomorrow,” he said, already moving to close the door.

Oh no—the master’s worried sick over his wife! He really didn’t have time to see anyone.

“No rush… no rush. I’ve come precisely for that matter.”

He Yanxin tried to stroke a beard like a wise old sage in a film—but found nothing—so he smoothed his robes instead.

“For that matter? You know what it is?” The gatekeeper’s curiosity was piqued.

“Naturally. I was sent by my sect to travel the world. As I passed through here today, I was struck by the sight of the Literary Star descending to the mortal realm. I came to investigate.”

Consider this a blessing for the child, whose life had ended early in the past. May he live safely this time and one day top the imperial exams.

Thankfully, the gatekeeper—being a scholar in an official’s household—understood the “Literary Star” reference. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have gotten it.

“May I ask the master’s name?” the gatekeeper asked excitedly. Could the child in Madam’s belly really be the Literary Star he spoke of?

This might just work. He Yanxin was starting to feel confident.

“I am Yuntai, a disciple of the Cloud Mountain Hermit from Changshan.”

He had already thought of this alias the night before. If he didn’t look so young, he would’ve used the Hermit’s name directly.

(Zhao Zilong: “You really couldn’t think of another place name?”
He Yanxin: “Nope.”)

Gatekeeper: Changshan? Never heard of it, but it sounds impressive.

“Please come in for some tea while you wait.” The gatekeeper led him to a side guest room and poured tea.

He also called over two guards to stand outside and whispered some instructions to a servant.

That servant nodded repeatedly, then ran around the screen wall toward the inner residence.

“Sister Cui Liu, there’s a reclusive master named Yuntai outside who wishes to see the master. It’s about the young master in Madam’s belly. Could you please go inform him?” the young servant said to a maid guarding the courtyard.

“Got it!” Cui Liu didn’t hesitate and turned to go inside.

In the inner courtyard, several maids were moving about with supplies. It was busy, but orderly and quiet.

A while later, Cui Liu came out with another maid. She told the young servant, “Master said to bring him to the main hall. He’ll come shortly.” The other maid headed to the hall to prepare.

The young servant received the message and ran back to the gate.

Meanwhile, He Yanxin sat in the guest room sipping tea, mentally rehearsing what he was going to say.

The gatekeeper entered with a smile and gestured at his waist. “Please follow me, sir.”

It was that same young servant again.

He bowed and said, “Please come with me, sir.”

So he was the dedicated errand boy.

After passing the screen wall, the view opened up to a small garden. Through that was a moon gate, leading to a row of rooms.

So this was what an ancient official’s residence looked like. Though curious, He Yanxin didn’t gawk—he only gave the place a quick glance.

One of the rooms already had its door open, and a servant stood by the door with his head bowed. That had to be the reception hall.

He hadn’t sat long before a maid served tea and refreshments, and the magistrate arrived.

The magistrate appeared fairly young, with short whiskers and a worried expression, though he still smiled and greeted He Yanxin politely.

In the Daan Kingdom, etiquette mattered—especially among the upper class.

He Yanxin also stood and returned a cupped-fist salute.

Had he met an official in his original identity, it would’ve required a full ceremonial bow—hands clasped to the chest, with a thirty-degree bend at the waist to show respect.

(End of Chapter)