The Concubine's Daughter Travels Through Time and Space and Takes the Road of Confrontation

The young man was quick to restrain the man, but he was too strong for him to hold him down. Fortunately, the uncle intervened in time. He pulled out a bundle of hemp rope from under the straw mat of the cart and expertly tied up the man with the broken hand like a dumpling.

The boy was very depressed. "If my sister only has one hand, then I don't need it."

Uncle: “——”

The man with the broken hand struggled in pain and refused the uncle's treatment of the wound on his forehead. "Why did you save me? I deserve to die in the North!"

It turned out that he was a soldier fighting on the front line. Looking at the blood flowing from the man's forehead, the boy took out his handkerchief and handed it to the uncle.

"My sister once said, 'I was born with talent and it will be useful. Don't give up on yourself.'"

It was not known whether he had heard it or not, but the man with the broken hand trembled with bloodshot eyes and said, "What's the use of me with a broken hand and injured leg?"

The young man disagreed, "My dear, you're injured fighting the Tartars, how can you be called useless? Besides, victory and defeat are common in the military. According to our dynasty's laws, injured soldiers can receive a lump sum of ten taels of silver. Why not take this money and return home to find a job?"

Man with Broken Hand "If the court wants to repel the Tartars, it cannot do without me."

The young man's eyes widened. "My dear, although I want to, not everyone can become a hero like General Lin."

The man with the broken hand looked at him with a complicated expression, "Which family are you from?"

The young man raised his hand to cover his mouth. "I have no name or surname. I am just a cowherd in the countryside of Kyoto."

The uncle who was slowly drinking soup from a bowl beside him spat out all the soup in his mouth onto the ground with a "puff" and let out a deafening cough. "Cough cough cough cough, I'm fine, you guys continue, hehehe."

That night, someone leaning on a thatched mat quietly opened his eyes a little and saw that the two people diagonally opposite him were already asleep. He took out the dagger hidden in his sleeve and cut the hemp rope around his hands with a few strokes. If he wanted to escape from here, he had to pass those two people.

One step, two steps, three steps - just one step away from avoiding the two people and running towards the cave entrance.

The boy tripped over something and stumbled a few steps with a scream. He looked back and saw the man with the broken hand lying on the cart baring his teeth at him.

The uncle who was sleeping soundly just now stood up and stretched, then he took out a piece of hemp rope and dragged the boy back. "I am your uncle, I am old and can't stay up all night."

The boy looked at the hemp rope tied around his wrist and the dagger that the uncle had taken away, and he felt like crying but had no tears.

"This dagger is quite good. I'll keep it for you first."

"Kid, if you can't even detect my extended foot, don't even think about going to the battlefield."

The boy, struck again, shrank into a corner like a persimmon left in the sun for a month, wilting and saying, "I'm such a disgrace to my sister."

The Broken-Handed Hero: "Is your sister a very powerful person?"

The boy swept away his previous discouragement and raised his head proudly, "Of course, if you don't believe me, ask him!"

Following the direction of the child's finger, the man with the broken hand looked at the strange man beside him, and saw the man nodded without hesitation. "Very impressive, everything he said before is true."

Seeing his genuine expression, the handless hero paused for a moment and slowly said, "There are still people like him in Kyoto. I wonder if there will be a chance to make friends with him in the future."

The young man's momentum diminished after hearing this. "I'm afraid it won't work. My sister is married."

The man with the broken hand felt a little sorry and said, "Forget it then."

The uncle smiled and said, "I don't think so. Speaking of which, his sister had a close relationship with someone from your family."

A native of Kyoto, in our family before, the broken-handed hero chewed on these words carefully, and a light bulb went off in his head. Could it be the second son's wife? Princess Roujia, who had already divorced the second son.

Unfortunately, he had lived in the north for a long time and had never even met his former sister-in-law, let alone other people. How could an ordinary person make friends with the princess?

The young man was frightened by the gaze of the hero with the broken hand. "Don't ask me who I am anymore, but you can tell me where you are from, and I can send you back home."

The uncle interrupted their conversation and said, "Go to bed quickly. It's late and we have to travel tomorrow."

For three days straight, the young man tirelessly served as the donkey pulling the cart, grunting and trudging along. Along the way, he encountered numerous refugees, groups of three or five, supporting each other, desperate to escape the war, daring not to stop for a single moment as they journeyed towards an unknown homeland. Suddenly, dust billowed in the distance, and the sound of hurried horse hooves reached their ears. A figure on horseback, carrying a yellow banner, swiftly passed by.

The boy looked at the man's back, his brows furrowed so tightly that they were almost knotted. "Uncle, this isn't—"

An obscure voice sounded behind him, "This is an urgent messenger from 800 miles away. I guess something must have happened at Yanmen Pass."

The boy was startled and turned to look at the uncle.

"What's coming will eventually come." The uncle remained calm. "This place is only two days' journey from Kyoto. Once we get there, everything will be clear."

Seeing that the boy still looked worried, the uncle took the shoulder strap from his hand and said, "Boy, you are far inferior to your sister."

The boy pursed his lips and said, "Uncle, who are you?"

The uncle snorted, "I'm your uncle."

The young man followed closely, "My father has no younger brother." He counted on his fingers, "You said you are my uncle, so you should also be my sister's uncle?"

"Almost." My father's brothers and my mother's brothers are all about the same.

The boy kept rambling, "What do you mean by almost? If it is, it is. If it is not, it is not."

Like a noisy duck chattering in his ear, the handless hero, whose thoughts were frequently interrupted, couldn't help but remind him, "I guess the meaning of 'almost the same' should refer to the generation of the same generation."

The young man murmured, "In terms of seniority, the heir--" The young man who finally figured out the secret covered his mouth in surprise and met a pair of eyes that seemed to be smiling.

"Now shut up and don't say anything."

The young man clasped his hands together and nodded repeatedly, then began to observe secretly. Remove the stubble on the uncle's face, and his facial features are indeed somewhat similar to his stepmother's.

The young man slapped his head in frustration, wondering why he hadn't realized sooner that he was the one sent by his father and stepmother to take him back. Logically, his stepmother had never given him or his aunt a hard time, but the difference in status made him feel a strange sense of alienation towards this "little uncle" in front of him.

So they remained silent all the way until the next day when the three of them successfully entered Kyoto.

The further we walked, the more shacks we saw in the fields on both sides, but most of them were empty, and the few people left were busy packing their bags and preparing to leave.

The man with the broken hand grabbed an old man who was passing by and said, "Old man, I am a refugee from the north. Are you planning to leave?"

The old man was dressed in rags, with a pale face and thin body. Seeing that the man holding his clothes was missing an arm and had two wooden boards tied to his legs, he shook his head and sighed, "Young man, we can't stay in Kyoto anymore. Those cannibal barbarians have already passed Yanmen Pass. Let's flee south quickly."