Eleventh Year of Yongwei, early spring with biting cold.
After a night of wind and rain in the small alley, early in the morning, one could only hear the tofu stall setting up at the entrance, with a crisp voice hawking: "Tofu for two copper coins per jin, dried tofu one copper per piece, all fragrant indeed!"
In the distance was South Street's morning market, with porters coming and going, merchants haggling.
"This is not 'envied sheep' or 'bone-rotting howl', how is ten taels of silver expensive for one?"
...
Long Jun suddenly sat up in bed, breaking into a cold sweat.
'Envied sheep' and 'bone-rotting howl' were no pleasant terms—they were coded language for cannibalism!
He hurriedly got up, limping painfully to the window, pressing his ear to listen to the distant sounds at the alley entrance.
Before the sounds arrived, various food aromas wafted in first.
The savory smell of meat buns, the smoke of fried dough, the sweet freshness of tofu pudding... as well as the fishy stench from the slaughterhouse, the putrid odor from accumulated sewage, and so on.
All varieties, yet still familiar smells.
And from afar, that merchant was boasting about his sheep: "This sheep was raised on a farm near Black Dew Mountain, drinking dew water and growing up on yellow essence ginseng, originally reserved for wealthy households. If you don't understand, don't talk nonsense and make a fool of yourself!"
Long Jun heard clearly, silently shaking his head: this merchant could really boast.
At the same time, he breathed a sigh of relief.
It seemed he had been confused while half-asleep and had misheard.
Indeed, this was the prosperous Yongwei era, a rare peaceful world. How could there possibly be people openly selling "envied sheep" in the morning market?
Long Jun stood by the window, clicking it shut to block the various complex smells.
As he gently regulated his breathing, his thoughts slowly settled.
He wasn't originally from this world; in his previous life he had been an internet worker who died suddenly at his desk from excessive overtime.
Poor fellow, a pure science student, yet he had crossed over to this ancient world without technology or internet.
After sorting out reality, he discovered that in this world, for children from poor families who wanted to succeed, there was basically no second path aside from studying.
At that time, Long Jun was seven years old, and his family circumstances were considered middle-upper class in the village.
Yet they still couldn't escape the various taxes, corvée labor, and levies imposed from above—all those things produced by class differences, each one a mountain pressing down on the common people, making it hard to breathe.
Long Jun was determined to take the imperial examinations.
He spent great effort persuading his family to support his studies, beginning school at age seven and becoming a child scholar at thirteen.
Ten years of diligent study brought him to his current age of seventeen.
Unfortunately, his examination luck since becoming a child scholar seemed suddenly forced onto a rugged path by some invisible force.
Afterward, he took the cultivated talent examination three years in a row, yet was always blocked from the examination site due to various accidents.
Sometimes he fell ill from unfamiliar conditions, sometimes he was knocked unconscious by smoke from an inn fire, sometimes he was injured by falling tiles while walking.
This year was even more ridiculous—at the beginning of the year, he went to register at the county school, but on his way down the mountain, he stepped on a stone, fell, and actually broke his right leg.
Such persistent bad luck, failing every examination attempt, once made Long Jun feel disheartened.
He reflected deeply, asking himself if he should choose a different path. But if he changed paths, what path should he take?
Moreover, after years of persistence, it was ultimately difficult to give up willingly.
Finally, with the help of his classmates, Long Jun rented a small courtyard in Peace Alley, not far from South Market Street, to stay temporarily while recovering from his injury and continuing his studies.
Peace Alley was named "Peace," but it wasn't actually a quiet, nice place.
It was densely populated and noisy, with the only advantage being its cheapness.
Long Jun had been recovering for about twenty days. Although he still limped when walking, at least basic self-care was no longer a problem.
But last night, another strange event occurred.
It was around 9:30 PM, approaching midnight.
A cool mist rose in the night, and Long Jun, awakened by the cold and unable to sleep, wanted to get up and heat some porridge at the stove to warm himself.
He didn't light a lamp, just moved slowly with his crutch toward the kitchen by the sparse moonlight from the window.
In the darkness, he heard the crackling of burning firewood from the kitchen, and a small burst of orange-red firelight illuminated the broken window frame.
Long Jun immediately stopped in his tracks.
He had extinguished the stove fire before sleeping, so how had the fire in the stove been rekindled?
"Squeak!"
Suddenly came the low call of rodents, rustling and squeaking...
In the blue shadows of the night, the firelight flickered dimly. As Long Jun listened to the squeaking, his brain somehow automatically translated these "squeaks" into human speech.
"Alas, this scholar is too stingy with his porridge—nothing but white rice, not adding anything else."
The tone was high-pitched and elderly, clearly audible yet somehow coming from some distant crack.
"Squeak!" The response was still a mouse's cry, likewise automatically transformed in Long Jun's mind into human speech: "Delicious, white porridge is also delicious, fragrant, sweet!"
"Silly child, you've never tasted anything good, to think even a bowl of white porridge tastes good." The elderly voice paused, finally sighing, "But in our current situation, being able to eat a bowl of white porridge... white porridge is good too."
[Rat Demon Like +1]
[+1]
Long Jun froze. For a moment he doubted he was hearing things, then his mind roared, as if something strange had exploded in his brain into a sky full of starlight.
Long Jun's head buzzed, his worldview shaken.
And these midnight rat words continued: "Jiu Ye, white porridge is delicious, it would be even better if we could eat it every night."
[Rat Demon Like +1]
Long Jun closed his eyes, then opened them again.
His vision before him was exceptionally clear, and he was fully awake.
And the strange prompt text continued to appear in the void before his eyes, while the rats' speech continued in his ears.
"If you think it tastes good, then that's fine. We can't move around easily now, so we can only share food with this scholar. However, this scholar's misfortune isn't normal—his aura is dark and gloomy, I fear his life won't last long."
"Squeak!" The little mouse became anxious, "He won't live much longer? Jiu Ye, how much longer can we eat his porridge?"
The elderly voice was silent for a moment, then spoke with resignation: "How can one say for sure? Look at that thick misfortune aura around him, almost dripping like water—I fear his luck is being stolen. In any case, he won't live long."
"Squeak squeak squeak!" The little mouse immediately became dejected, "His porridge is sweeter than others', and now he's going to die soon. What a pity."
[Rat Demon Like +1]
The elderly voice slowly said: "Human hearts and demon caves have many unfathomable things—this is the difference in being human. Anyway, though we are rats, we cannot eat people's food for nothing. Ashi, place this trouble-free skin on the stove, to pay for our meals these days."
Then came another rustling sound.
Perhaps this was the Rat Demon coming to deliver the "trouble-free skin"!
Long Jun's heart surged with shock. He had an impulse to rush into the kitchen immediately to see if Rat Demons truly existed, and to carefully inquire whether the "his life won't last long" mentioned by the Rat Demon was true or false. Yet he worried that his mortal body could not withstand the dangers of demonic beings.
Although these two Rat Demons seemed more reasonable and understanding in their speech than some humans, unlike evil demons.
But if they truly were demonic creatures, who knew how trustworthy their words were?
Long Jun gritted his teeth and ultimately stood firmly in the shadow of the moonlight.
His mind was in turmoil, his worldview collapsing and rebuilding, almost not knowing what time it was.
Until the firelight in the kitchen went out at some point, and all the rustling sounds had departed, pain shooting from his injured leg, only then did Long Jun awaken as if from a dream.
He didn't dare make a sound, only quietly moved his feet, slowly retreating back to his room.
Returning to bed and wrapping himself tightly in the blanket, he still couldn't dispel the chill throughout his body.
Long Jun tossed and turned, unable to sleep, thinking of many, many things.
Ten years of diligent study, originally believing he would only experience the difficult path of a farmer's son taking the imperial examinations—who would have thought there were actually demons in this world!
If demons had appeared, what did his ten years of study amount to?
Ever since passing the child scholar examination, he had been plagued by bad luck. He originally thought he was simply unfortunate, but now thinking about it, such extreme misfortune deviated from normal logic. Was it possible that someone was secretly using evil magic against him?
Stealing luck, stealing luck—just hearing it made one's hair stand on end.
Long Jun recalled his past experiences.
In his previous life he was a science student, and after crossing over, he immediately rejected the existence of "supernatural forces." Additionally, being born in a rural farming family, he had never heard of any cultivation matters within ten miles.
There were some rural ghost stories circulating, and a neighboring village had a spirit woman who reportedly could divine by scattering rice and summon the souls of children. Long Jun had heard bits of this but considered it village superstition, never thinking that this world might be abnormal.
But what if this world truly was abnormal?
Long Jun lay in bed, feeling a bone-deep chill throughout his body.
He seemed to understand many questions dimly, yet even more questions became increasingly puzzling.
Finally, what puzzled him most was the information that kept floating in his mind—what exactly was this so-called [Rat Demon Like]?