After the Male Protagonist Transmigrated into the Body of a Widowed Spouse - Chapter 2

Wearing rough hemp clothing, Zheng Hao made no effort to hide his disgust toward Gu Lin after the village chief and the others left.

No matter how brilliant and clever the original text described the male protagonist’s childhood to be, reading about it paled in comparison to seeing it firsthand. Gu Lin was truly shocked by the speed at which the boy’s expression changed.

However, the two of them could not simply stare at each other in silence forever. As the adult, Gu Lin felt he should take the initiative and break the ice: “Have you eaten?”

It was approaching noon, right around lunchtime. Believing that food was the most important thing to the people, Gu Lin thought this was the most appropriate question to ask.

As soon as the words left his mouth, however, he saw the disgust in Zheng Hao’s eyes intensify, the boy’s gaze turning sharp enough to cut.

Gu Lin’s body stiffened as he suddenly remembered that after the male protagonist’s father fell gravely ill, the original owner had constantly skimped on the boy’s portions, never letting him eat his fill.

Seeing the boy looking as though he wanted to pounce forward and tear into him, Gu Lin quickly added: “You must not have eaten since you just got back. I will go make lunch right now, and it will be ready soon.”

Zheng Hao cast a slightly sarcastic glance at Gu Lin, turned around without a word, and walked straight back to his room.

Seeing this, Gu Lin felt a twinge of self-reproach. He really had brought up the worst possible topic, offending the male protagonist right upon their first meeting.

A sudden rumble from his stomach interrupted his remorse. He had not had a single drop of water since crossing over last night, and he was already starving, his stomach aching faintly. Setting aside his regret for the moment, Gu Lin decided to find something to eat first to fill his stomach.

Arriving at the Zheng family’s woodshed, Gu Lin checked the stove first and then the wooden cabinet. After searching both places, he found no other food except for some seasonings.

Gu Lin paused for a moment, then turned his head to look around before walking toward a corner.

A large clay jar sat in the corner. Stepping up to it, Gu Lin lifted the wooden lid and saw a cloth bag inside.

He lifted the bag out and opened it to find it filled with golden millet. Gu Lin shifted his gaze to peer deeper into the jar to see if there was anything else, but despite the jar’s depth, it contained only the single bag of millet he was holding.

Withdrawing his gaze, Gu Lin carried the millet to the stove.

However, the young man stood before the stove for a long time without moving. With a solemn expression, Gu Lin looked down at the millet in his hands. Although he knew how to cook, having grown up in the south during his modern life, he had mostly eaten rice and wheat-based noodles and had never cooked millet, let alone raw grains.

Still, with only a bag of millet on hand, not eating meant waiting to starve.

Naturally, Gu Lin had no intention of starving himself. Drawing on his past experience with cooking congee, he first washed the millet, poured it into a wooden basin filled with water to soak, and once it was sufficiently softened, dumped it into the pot with more water to boil.

Along the way, Gu Lin ran into a few minor troubles. Ancient stoves were not like modern gas cookers where a simple twist produced a fire; using this stove required starting a fire from scratch. Fortunately, he had lived in the countryside for a time during his modern life and had used large stoves. Although this stove differed somewhat from those, Gu Lin quickly figured it out. He retrieved a flint from the wooden cabinet and ignited a handful of dry grass.

Once the grass caught fire, Gu Lin tossed it into the stove’s hearth, and the flames blazed up quickly.

Perhaps because of Gu Lin’s foresight in soaking the millet until it softened, or perhaps because the fire in the hearth burned brightly, the aroma of rice soon began to drift from the pot.

Inhaling the sweet fragrance, Gu Lin felt his stomach growl even louder. Opening the lid, he saw the millet congee bubbling and frothing happily.

Gu Lin took a bowl from the cabinet, then, changing his mind for some reason, took out a second one.

Being somewhat particular about cleanliness, he could not bring himself to eat directly out of these bowls without cleaning them first. Therefore, Gu Lin ladled out some hot rice water to scald the bowls before serving the congee into them.

Looking at the golden, rich millet congee, Gu Lin’s starving stomach felt as though it were burning. Unable to even wait for the congee to cool, he lifted the bowl and began to eat.

Instantly, the unique, sweet aroma and rich flavor of millet flooded Gu Lin’s mouth and tongue. His churning, acid-refluxing stomach finally found some relief. With one bowl of congee down, Gu Lin licked his lips, still unsatisfied, and scooped a second bowl. After finishing two bowls of thick congee, he finally felt full.

There was still a bit of congee left in the pot, which Gu Lin decided to save for the evening. He covered the pot securely and walked away.

When evening arrived, Gu Lin went to the woodshed to scoop out the congee and discovered that the amount in the pot had decreased. Yet, acting as if he had not noticed anything at all, he finished his congee and returned to his room.

He did not notice that the wooden door of the room behind him was left ajar by a crack. It was only long after he had gone inside that the crack finally closed.

Back in his room, Gu Lin lay on the wooden plank bed, unable to close his eyes for a long time. He had accepted the reality of transmigrating into a novel, but he still needed to carefully figure out how to survive in this world.

He had thought about leaving during the day, but after understanding the background of this world, Gu Lin dismissed the idea.

The original book unfolded entirely from the male protagonist’s perspective, so while reading it, Gu Lin had not realized the status of ge’er in this world. However, after digesting the original owner’s memories over the past day and night, Gu Lin learned that a ge’er held a very lowly position in this world, far inferior to both men and women.

This world respected men just like ancient China did, but the difference was that women held a much higher status here than in ancient China. Many of a woman’s rights were protected by law; a woman could even establish an independent household if she chose not to marry, allowing her to travel alone. Ge’er, however, enjoyed no such legal protections. Although they shouldered the heavy responsibility of continuing the bloodline, their physiological structure made them unappealing to men, and their fertility was lower than that of women. Consequently, their status had always been low, reducing them to mere appendages of men.

In other words, if Gu Lin found no way to change this predicament, he could forget about gaining freedom, and his social status would inevitably be tied to that of some man.

Gu Lin felt entirely numb at this realization, but the blow did not make him lose his fighting spirit.

Although he had not yet graduated from university in his modern life, both of his parents had passed away, and he had already experienced many trials and tribulations inflicted by society. With no parents or relatives to support him behind his back, he was destined to struggle much harder than others. While his peers spent their middle and high school summer and winter vacations traveling or lounging around lazily at home, Gu Lin had frantically worked part-time jobs to save up tuition for high school and college.

His starting hand was unfortunate, but he had never thought of giving up; he had always worked hard to live and push forward.

Because of this bitter, sweat-stained experience, Gu Lin had long since forged a strong mentality. Even when facing thorny dilemmas, he could quickly readjust his state of mind and face them calmly.

The next day, hearing the crowing of chickens, Gu Lin woke up.

Ancient times had no toothpaste, so he followed local customs and used a willow branch to clean his teeth. After washing up, Gu Lin went to the woodshed to start cooking congee.

Looking at the dwindling millet inside the cloth bag, a flash of worry crossed his eyes. If things went on like this, the family would run out of food sooner rather than later.

He needed to quickly find a way to make money.

Yet, how did one make money in ancient times? For a moment, Gu Lin truly had no ideas.

If he had transmigrated as a man, he could try taking the imperial examinations; even if he could not become an official, holding a scholarly title would allow him to live more comfortably than the average person. But he was a ge’er, let alone becoming an official, he was not even considered a full person.

So, become a farmer? Gu Lin shook his head. Although farmers ranked second in the scholars, farmers, artisans, and merchants hierarchy, making their status appear high, they lived the hardest lives of all. Gu Lin knew his own limitations; with his fragile frame, trying to support himself through farming was nothing short of wishful thinking.

An artisan, then? People with practical skills had always been valued throughout history, but Gu Lin lacked both the mindset and the ability for that.

Ultimately, Gu Lin’s thoughts focused on the lowest rank: merchants.

Although merchants held a humble status and faced severe restrictions regarding food, clothing, housing, and the future prospects of their descendants, Gu Lin could hardly care about such things when he was about to run out of food.

His thoughts raced, giving birth to many ideas.

However, there was still a more important matter that required his attention right now.

Gu Lin walked over to Zheng Hao’s bedroom door and said, “Xiao Hao, are you awake? Breakfast is ready, come out to eat.”

With that, Gu Lin did not even wait for a response from inside and turned to leave.

After pondering all through the night, Gu Lin had ultimately decided to stay with the Zheng family. In truth, aside from the Zheng family, he had nowhere else to go. The original owner did have a maiden family, but it was practically nonexistent. The Zheng family consisted only of the hunter Zheng and Zheng Hao, with no other extended clan members, which meant that Gu Lin’s staying in the Zheng family meant no elders could meddle in or control him.

Furthermore, if the future situation remained unclear, as long as he firmly insisted on observing a period of mourning for hunter Zheng without remarrying, no man could legally dominate him.

Having settled his mind and decided to stay with the Zheng family, Gu Lin needed to mend his relationship with Zheng Hao.

If he wanted to live peaceably in the Zheng family, he could not let Zheng Hao harbor eternal resentment toward him; at the very least, he needed to establish an ordinary, civil relationship with the boy.

Sitting at the table, Gu Lin felt somewhat surprised when he saw Zheng Hao walk in. Although he had called Zheng Hao out to eat, he had not truly expected the boy to actually show up.

He had simply figured that Rome was not built in a day, and that he should start with these small gestures to see if he could soften the boy’s attitude a little.

Zheng Hao walked up to Gu Lin, stared at him coldly with both eyes, and said in a harsh tone, “What on earth are you trying to do?”

He had noticed Gu Lin’s strange behavior since yesterday. If he had not been continuously observing the other, Zheng Hao would never have caught onto these anomalies.

Gu Lin had been looking for a chance to have an open and honest conversation, and now that Zheng Hao had approached him voluntarily, Gu Lin was not cowed, saying, “If I said I want to watch over you and live a good life together, would you believe me?”

Clearly, Zheng Hao did not believe him. Upon hearing these words, the wariness in the boy’s eyes only grew heavier.

He had long seen through Gu Lin as vain, foolish, and vicious. In the past, Gu Lin used to fawn over his father to his face while cursing him as a bastard behind his back. Who knows what scheme Gu Lin was hatching now?

Gu Lin knew that words alone made it difficult to win someone’s trust, but for the sake of the future, some things had to be said: “I admit that I was not a good elder in the past, and I made things difficult for you and mistreated you everywhere. But after your father left, I thought a lot and realized my mistakes. Now, there are only the two of us left in this house. I would be hard-pressed to find someone as good to me as your father was, and I am afraid of suffering if I remarry. That is why I do not want to remarry; I just want to raise you properly so I will not feel ashamed to face your father after I die. I made many mistakes in the past and do not expect your forgiveness, but you can watch as I constantly reform myself and make it up to you.”

Gu Lin’s words contained both sincerity and calculation, but their fundamental purpose was for the good of both himself and Zheng Hao, leaving Zheng Hao momentarily unable to spot any flaws in the performance.

Even so, Zheng Hao was not moved by Gu Lin’s outpouring of sincerity. His father had been good to Gu Lin, but Gu Lin was cold-hearted. The nice-sounding talk of observing mourning for his father was merely because Gu Lin could not find a better suitor right now. Once the three-year mourning period for his father was over, his reputation would be restored, and he would have enough time to find a new husband.

Hating this fickle and heartless ge’er to the core, Zheng Hao spat out, “I don’t need it.”

Of course, Gu Lin understood what the boy meant, but he did not continue arguing the point. Instead, he motioned toward the woodshed and said, “Go dish up your congee. It will not taste good if it gets cold.”

Seeing Gu Lin brush aside his words, a trace of annoyance flashed across Zheng Hao’s fierce expression. Noticing this, Gu Lin could only say, “If you do not believe me, you can just keep watching me. You are ten years old now, and in five years you will be fifteen. By then, you will be the head of the household and can make the final decision on everything in this family. If you still feel I am the same as before by then, you can kick me out.”

Zheng Hao was a stubborn one as well. Hearing Gu Lin’s words, he felt not the slightest sense of filial impropriety about casting out his father’s wife, his own step-father. He stared intently at Gu Lin, his dark eyes resembling a fierce beast searching for its prey’s weak spot, waiting for the right moment to pounce. Though he said nothing, his look conveyed everything that needed to be said.