Dream of the Red Chamber: From a Border Ruffian to a Capital Tyrant

The next morning, just as dawn broke, the morning wind at Yanmen Pass, carrying a biting chill and the roughness of yellow sand, howled and swept over the battlements.

Jia Lang's small courtyard was located in the northeast corner of this formidable iron pass, very close to the main city gate, the North Gate. If one were to ride a horse at full gallop, it would only take three to five minutes to reach the city.

Despite being a deputy general with considerable military power, Jia Lang's residence was far from luxurious; in fact, it appeared rather shabby.

This is a simple courtyard with only three rammed earth rooms, blue bricks and gray tiles. It was assigned to him by the military clerk after he made meritorious contributions when he first arrived, and it has never been changed since.

The courtyard is small, with only three side rooms, one large and two small.

The larger room served as a banquet hall, but it was actually just furnished with a few rough wooden tables and chairs. Behind the hall, separated only by a thin wooden wall, was Jia Lang's usual resting and sleeping place. The soundproofing was extremely poor, and even the sound of turning over could be clearly heard.

The open space in the center of those three side rooms is the heart of this courtyard.

Jia Lang transformed this place into a private martial arts arena, occupying a full half of the courtyard's area.

There were no paved tiles on the ground; it was all compacted loess soil, full of pits and footprints.

Four heavy weapon racks stood on the sidelines. These were not ordinary wooden racks, but were made of century-old hardwood. They were filled with all kinds of deadly weapons—long spears, iron-rimmed bows, and heavy weapons such as maces and spiked clubs that inspired fear.

As for light, thin, and agile swords?

None of these are available here!

An inch longer, an inch stronger;

Every inch shorter, every inch more dangerous!

This is not empty talk, but a truth bought with countless lives.

In the battlefield of the Shura field where two armies clash, if we engage in close combat, as long as my weapon is even an inch longer than yours, the distance of the thrust will determine life and death, and you will be the one to die!

Moreover, on the battlefield, the greater the force, the more powerful the weapon; the heavier the weapon, the more terrifying its armor-piercing and killing power.

Like the heavy iron hammer that Jia Lang used, which weighed over eighty pounds, once it hit a person, there was no need to finish them off; a touch would be fatal, and even a graze would cause injury. It was a true case of death by contact!

The two small side rooms on either side of the training ground housed Jia Lang's twenty personal guards.

Nominally guards, they are actually fierce warriors whom Jia Lang has rescued time and again from the barbarian's slaughter over the past two years amidst mountains of corpses and seas of blood!

They were deeply indebted to Jia Lang for saving their lives, and since they were all alone, some orphaned, others orphaned, and had no other attachments in the world, they voluntarily stayed, regarding Jia Lang as their master and vowing to follow him to the death.

Of course, Jia Lang saved more than a hundred soldiers in the past two years, but in the end only twenty of them were willing to stay.

Jia Lang's careful selection of these "rootless people" was driven by his own calculations and ambitions.

He knew better than anyone that he could never remain content in this harsh and desolate Yanmen Pass forever. Sooner or later, he would fight his way back to the capital and return to the Ningguo Mansion, which appeared to be a place of wealth and luxury but was actually a place of filth and cannibalism!

When that time comes, these unburdened and fierce soldiers who only know how to die for their cause will be his most primitive and sharpest asset, the foundation upon which he will stand in that den of tigers and wolves!

At this moment, Jia Lang was sitting alone on the stone bench in the courtyard, worn smooth by countless years of experience. The bizarre and wonderful events of the past three years flashed through his mind like a revolving lantern, eventually turning into a long, melancholy sigh that dissipated in the wind.

Three years ago, it was a time travel that happened without warning. Jia Lang still remembers it clearly. At that time, he was in a noisy comic convention, surrounded by cosplayers dressed in all sorts of strange costumes and photographers carrying "long lenses".

The wise saying, "Pretty girls may not necessarily wear makeup, but girls who know how to wear makeup are definitely not ugly," still echoed in his ears, and his camera's memory card was filled to the brim with all sorts of scantily clad girls.

Just as he closed his eyes, painfully deleting those "study materials" to free up memory, he opened his eyes again and the world had changed.

There was no hustle and bustle of a comic convention, no blue light from electronic screens, only three or five people dressed in ancient gray coarse cloth short browns surrounding him.

These people had their hair in topknots, looked arrogant, and spoke in a strange, half-classical, half-vernacular language.

The strangest thing is that Jia Lang swore he had never learned this language, but at that moment, the words fell into his ears as clearly and easily as a resounding bell, as if they were engraved in his soul.

One of the leading servants, wearing a black hat askew, pointed impatiently at his nose:

"Second Master Lang, shouldn't you repay the two hundred taels of silver you borrowed from the Ningguo Mansion last time to pay for your mother's funeral?"

"Manager Lai has spoken: if we don't see the silver today, we'll seize your ancestral land of over ten acres!"

Upon hearing this, Jia Lang was first taken aback, then burst out laughing.

He just thought it was some prank show or an immersive murder mystery game, and didn't take it to heart at all.

"Hey buddy, which university's drama club are you from?"

"Are you filming a short drama?"

Jia Lang subconsciously wanted to pat the other person's shoulder and make a joke about the rough costumes and props, but as soon as he raised his hand, he felt something was wrong—why was his hand empty?

Where's the camera?

What happened to the full-frame DSLR I bought for thousands of dollars?!

Jia Lang looked down in a panic, and what he saw almost scared the soul out of him.

Originally, those were the hands of a young person in the 21st century. Although they weren't long and fair, they had never done any rough work. They were hands that were used to "get rich through hard work" and "reward themselves." How could they have calluses?

After all, you can wrong anyone, but you can't wrong your own brothers.

But the hands in front of me were not only covered with thick calluses and dead skin, but also had large, tumor-like knuckles that were frighteningly big, almost like two palm-leaf fans!

Jia Lang suddenly looked up to ask what was going on, but found that his vision was wrong—everything in front of him had become shorter!

There were no skyscrapers, no glass curtain walls, only low, dilapidated earthen walls and an unreal blue sky overhead.

The blue sky was so pure it looked like a fake painting, breathtakingly beautiful, but Jia Lang had no mood to appreciate it at the moment.

"I say, Second Master Lang, you're not trying to renege on your debt, are you? You're just spouting nonsense!"

The discontented voice came from below, interrupting Jia Lang's fear.

Jia Lang looked down and realized that it wasn't that the sky had become higher, but that he had become "giant"! The servants in front of him only reached his chest, and he stood like an iron tower.

"What are you doing... I..." Jia Lang opened his mouth, his voice booming like a thunderclap, making even his own eardrums tingle. Then, the words uttered by the servants echoed in his mind like thunderclaps:

"Ningguo Prefecture?"

"Manager Lai?"

"Could it be that Lai Er?"

"And also, this Ningguo Mansion... could it be the Ningguo Mansion of the Jia family in 'Dream of the Red Chamber'? And there's a Rongguo Mansion next to it?!"

An absurd idea instantly pierced his skull!

"Um?"

Seeing Jia Lang's utterly shocked expression, the five servants exchanged bewildered glances, then lowered their voices to whisper amongst themselves. Though their voices were soft, every word reached Jia Lang's keen ears:

"Could this big, dumb guy have become even dumber because his mother died?"

"I think it's probably true. I always thought this big guy was a simpleton, but I never expected that his death would be such a shock to me. He's completely gone crazy."

If the previous shock was due to time travel, then the words "I'm dead" acted like a fuse, instantly igniting the remaining instincts in this body!

An indescribable rage, not belonging to Jia Lang's soul, yet originating from the depths of this body, erupted like a volcano! It was an overwhelming hatred born of humiliation, repression, and the loss of loved ones!

Jia Lang's eyes instantly became bloodshot, and his originally honest face instantly turned ferocious and terrifying. Combined with his eight-foot-tall, burly body, he resembled an enraged ancient beast.

The scene before them terrified the five servants, who instinctively took several steps back, staggering as they went.

But the thought that he had been intimidated by this famously "dumb and simple-minded big guy" filled him with shame and anger, and the head servant, though blustering, roared:

"Second Master Lang, stop playing tricks!"

"You personally went to the Ningguo Mansion to borrow the money; it's all clearly written in black and white!"

"Manager Lai said that if the money cannot be repaid, the land deed will be immediately revoked!"

"call...."

Jia Lang took a deep breath, his chest heaving violently, as if the original owner's lingering emotions were roaring.

He clenched his fists so tightly that his nails dug deep into his palms, trying to calm the urge to tear everything in front of him apart.

In his past life, he was a law-abiding college student who got into many fights, but he never committed murder.

But at this moment, looking at these ugly faces in front of him, he actually had the urge to kill, and that murderous intent grew wildly like weeds, almost breaking through the cage of reason!

"roll!!"

Finally, Jia Lang squeezed out the word through gritted teeth, his voice low and hoarse, yet carrying a chilling, icy edge.

The five servants were completely stunned by the murderous intent in his blood-red eyes; those were eyes that had truly seen blood!

They trembled with fear and dared not utter another threat. The leader's legs went weak, and he staggered as he uttered, "You just wait, Manager Lai won't let you get away with this," before leading the other four men to flee as if they were being chased by evil spirits.

"Why...."

About fifteen minutes after the others left, Jia Lang forced down the pent-up anger in his chest and let out a long breath.

He raised his enormous hands and touched his chest, which was still throbbing with pain. His heart was filled with a complex mix of emotions.

Even in his daze, he finally understood—he had struck it lucky, but he had also encountered a terrible curse.

crossed.

He really did time travel.

The good news is that this kind of plot, which only appears in novels, has actually come true;

To everyone's surprise, he had no memory of the original owner at all, and it seemed that the owner's family was even destitute. Moreover, this body seemed to carry the original owner's strong obsession and remnant soul.

Just like the uncontrollable rage he felt earlier told him: the original owner's mother was the absolute Achilles' heel of this body, and touching her would mean certain death!

But what should we do next?

He has no memory, doesn't know where his home is, and doesn't even know if this world is the same as the world in "Dream of the Red Chamber" that he knows.

If so, he will face the fate of having his property confiscated and being exiled; if not, where can he go in this war-torn frontier?