Duan Jin felt a heavy fog in his head, and the sound of wailing—now distant, now close—echoed in his ears, leaving him deeply unsettled.

“Your Excellency… Your Excellency, please wake up…”

He furrowed his brow, about to snap, when the wailing abruptly ceased, giving way to a cry of delight: “The magistrate has moved! Doctor, the magistrate’s finger has moved!”

Duan Jin struggled to open his eyes, but the moment he moved his eyeballs, a sharp, stabbing pain shot through his brain. His vision went black, and he lost consciousness once more.

He didn’t know how much time had passed, but his foggy mind finally began to clear. So… I’m dead.

He had been a college graduate in the 21st century. After graduation, he passed the civil service exam to become a township official, just as the targeted poverty alleviation campaign was facing its initial challenges.

As a rising force among the younger generation, Duan Jin stepped up without hesitation and resolutely headed to the countryside and into the villages.

Hard work pays off. Five years later, every township in the county had been lifted out of poverty, and the town where he served stood out as exceptional, even being selected as a model. 

However, on the very day he retired after achieving his goals, as he was leaving the mountains by car and just about to doze off, a wild sheep suddenly darted out onto the mountain road. In a panic, the driver crashed straight into the guardrail. In an instant, the world spun, and he watched helplessly as he plummeted off the cliff, shattering his body into pieces.

He was certain he was dead; after all, the excruciating pain of those comminuted fractures was seared into his memory.

But at that moment, the completely unfamiliar memories flooding his mind made his heart skip a beat, and an incredible thought suddenly crossed his mind: Could it be… that he had traveled through time? 

“Duan Jin……”

He murmured the name to himself. The face in his memory bore an uncanny resemblance to his own from a past life—could this really be his former self…?

In this life, “Duan Jin” came from a family that had fallen on hard times; his parents had died young. After years of studying in poverty, he had finally made it to the capital and passed the imperial examination, but because he had neither connections nor money, he was assigned to Wuyuan County—a place his colleagues would do anything to avoid.

Wuyuan County was vast, with mountains, rivers, and a coastline—in later times, it would undoubtedly have been an excellent tourist destination. But in these trying times, the common people could barely fill their bellies; who had the heart to think of travel?

“A barren land breeds troublemakers”—the two county magistrates who had served before him had fled in panic after only a short time, leaving behind this very legend about Wuyuan County.

Thanks to their warning, “Duan Jin” had come fully prepared, yet he was still stripped of everything by those despicable bandits and left with a deep gash on his arm.

He was lucky to have survived at all, and to his relief, the jade pendant he’d hidden under his insole hadn’t been taken. Drawn-out and disheveled, Duan Jin made his way into the county office.

Before going to sleep, he thought to himself that since he had at least made it to the county office alive, things would surely start to improve. Little did he know that a sudden downpour that night would add insult to injury for the already dilapidated county office.

The torrential rain knocked tiles off the roof, and dirty rainwater seeped into the wound on “Duan Jin’s” arm. He paid it no mind, merely wiped it off hastily, turned over, and went back to sleep. Unbeknownst to him, the wound became inflamed and infected during the night, causing a high fever. In those days of scarce medical supplies, a simple cold could be fatal, and so when he awoke from that sleep, he was a different person.

It was a tale to break the heart and bring tears to the eyes—how much better it would have been if the one who had suffered such a tragic fate had not been himself.

Duan Jin sighed inwardly and slowly came to. If he hadn’t woken up, it would have been disastrous—the two young constables by his bedside were already discussing where to bury him.

“Sir!” The two men’s faces lit up with joy the moment they saw his eyes open.

“Cough, cough…” Duan Jin propped himself up on his elbows and sat up slowly, his voice hoarse. “Thank you both for your hard work.”

He felt wonderfully warm; the quilt was dry and soft. No doubt these two had replaced his damp bedding with dry sheets.

“No trouble at all, no trouble at all. How are you feeling now, Your Honor?” 

Constable Liu Cheng spoke bluntly, “You’ve finally woken up, Your Honor. How do you feel?” 

“I’m fine. The fever has broken.” Duan Jin touched his forehead; it felt cool to the touch, so he should be out of the woods.

“That’s good news,” Liu Cheng said, letting out a long sigh of relief.

Duan Jin silently observed the two men. Liu Cheng had a lively, impulsive nature, while the man beside him, named Feng Xin, was much more composed. Feng Xin picked up a bowl of plain rice porridge from the side: “Your Honor has been unconscious for a full day and night and hasn’t had a single bite to eat. The doctor instructed that you should eat light foods upon waking, so I’ve prepared some plain rice porridge. Please have a little to tide you over.”

Has it really been this long? He was so starved he could barely feel it anymore. Duan Jin took the coarse earthenware bowl and slowly drank the entire bowl of warm porridge.

No sooner had he finished the porridge than Feng Xin handed him a bowl of dark brown medicinal broth. Duan Jin held his breath, kept his composure, and tilted his head back to drink it down. However, having likely been force-fed medicine several times while unconscious, he felt a bit of urgency and asked, “Where is the outhouse at the magistrate’s office?”

Feng Xin led him there. Along the way, they passed through areas where tree shadows flickered, and dilapidated houses stood, the scene exuding desolation and decay. Though Duan Jin, being new to the place, felt a sense of gloom, he said little.

The medicine seemed to contain a sleep-inducing ingredient; as soon as he returned to his room, he began yawning. Duan Jin dismissed the two constables, telling them to go rest on their own and that there was no need for them to stay and watch over him.

He slept soundly through the night.

Apart from the faint moonlight that kept streaming through the gaping hole in the roof and shining on his face, forcing him to move to the foot of the bed in the middle of the night, clutching his quilt, everything else was fine…

…It should be, probably, perhaps, all right.

The next day dawned bright and clear, the sky as crisp as a wash, lifting everyone’s spirits considerably. Duan Jin had slept for two days and felt his whole body had stiffened up, so he did some exercises and stretched his waist in the courtyard. He was doing the Third Set of National Middle School Radio Calisthenics—the routine he’d done back in school. He’d forgotten it for all those years, but unexpectedly picked it up again after graduation while living in the countryside. For a time, the village school was short on teachers, so he helped look after the children and taught them the calisthenics to keep them fit.

He completed the entire routine with ease. His body was slightly warm, and he felt completely at ease, as if every muscle and bone had been stretched out. He turned around with a smile, only to find Liu Cheng and Feng Xin standing frozen at the courtyard gate, staring at him in utter astonishment.

Their expressions were as if they’d just witnessed him suffering a high fever that had fried his brain. Feng Xin quickly composed himself, acting as if he hadn’t seen a thing, but Liu Cheng couldn’t keep his thoughts to himself and blurted out,

“Sir, what kind of strange martial art are you practicing…?” 

Duan Jin calmly brought his legs back together: “Just stretching my limbs.”

Seeing that he looked perfectly normal, Liu Cheng scratched his head, assuming it was just his own lack of knowledge.

The two brought breakfast—still just plain congee, mixed-flour steamed buns, and a dish of pickles. Duan Jin wasn’t picky; as long as it filled his stomach, that was enough. “Have you two eaten?”

“We have,” they replied in unison. “We brought this specifically for you, sir.”

“These buns taste quite good. What kind of greens are mixed in?” Duan Jin took a bite and found the wild greens inside somewhat familiar. “It’s horse-horned nettle!” Liu Cheng answered eagerly, a look of pride on his face. “This subordinate dug it up in the wild; it’s fresh and tender.”

Feng Xin gave him a sly nudge. Liu Cheng flinched, then, as if remembering something, glanced cautiously at Duan Jin. Feng Xin took over, explaining gently, “Your Excellency has only just recovered from your illness. The doctor advised you to eat light fare. This plant may look like a wild vegetable, but its common name is purslane. It’s a medicinal herb that clears heat and reduces inflammation—it’s beneficial for your health.”

Duan Jin nodded. “I’ve had steamed purslane mixed with wheat flour before; it was quite delicious. I just didn’t recognize it at first glance. At this time of year, there must be quite a few edible wild plants available, right?”

Liu Cheng stole a glance at Feng Xin. Seeing the latter give an almost imperceptible nod, he dared to respond, “That’s right. Wild mustard, dandelions, shepherd’s purse—they’re all in high demand these days. You have to go pretty far out to find them.”

Duan Jin took in every detail of their little exchange but pretended not to notice. However, upon hearing the words “shepherd’s purse,” his mouth watered involuntarily. He recalled the shepherd’s purse dumplings he’d tasted at a fellow villager’s home in his previous life—their fresh, delicate flavor surpassed even that of meat-filled dumplings.

After finishing breakfast in silence, Duan Jin suddenly remembered something: “What about the other constables at the county office? Why are there only the two of you here?” 

Liu Cheng’s face immediately fell: “Your Honor, the constables at the county office… There have only ever been the two of us!” 

Duan Jin asked, “How is that possible?”

Feng Xin explained, “Your Honor, you must understand: before you took office, the county office was barely kept afloat by just Xiang Shiye and myself.”

Liu Cheng added with a worried look: “Your Honor, you may not be aware, but the county office’s pay… is often delayed. Everyone comes to work to support their families, don’t they? Each time it’s delayed—anywhere from a few months to half a year—and even when it’s finally paid out, it’s always short-weighted. Over time, no one was willing to stay.”

Duan Jin asked in surprise, “Then why are the two of you still here?”

Liu Cheng chuckled awkwardly, a blush spreading across his face. “I actually wanted to leave too… but Xiang Shiye often uses his own personal funds to support us. If the two of us were to leave now, Xiang Shiye wouldn’t even have anyone to run errands for him. That would be so pitiful!”

Duan Jin looked at Feng Xin, who nodded in agreement. It seemed they really would have to meet Xiang Shiye. “Where is Xiang Shiye now?” Duan Jin asked.

Liu Cheng replied, “He’s probably still resting.”

Duan Jin furrowed his brow slightly. Feng Xin hurriedly explained, “The secretary has been organizing the ledgers day and night for several days now. He finally collapsed from exhaustion and went to sleep yesterday. At this hour…he should be awake by now.”

Before he had finished speaking, Liu Cheng suddenly pointed toward the courtyard gate: “The secretary is here!”

Duan Jin turned to see an elderly man in his fifties walking steadily toward them. He looked vigorous and stood with a straight back. Spotting Duan Jin from a distance, his eyes suddenly lit up. He quickened his pace and approached, his eyes brimming with tears: “Magistrate Duan! You’ve finally woken up!” He had truly feared that this new magistrate might not only fail to escape but might never even wake up.

Though Duan Jin did not understand the reason for his excitement, he still followed proper etiquette by clasping the man’s hands and saying solemnly, “Thank you for your concern, secretary.”

Xiang Shiye cleared his throat softly, withdrew his hand, composed himself, and asked with concern, “I heard your fever broke last night. How are you feeling now?”

“I’m fully recovered now. Thank you, secretary.” Duan Jin nodded, then turned to the matter at hand. “I’ve only just arrived and was immediately confined to bed, so I know nothing of the situation in the county. Could you give me a brief overview?”

Xiang Shiye perked up. This magistrate was clearly eager to get down to business—perhaps he would indeed last longer than his two predecessors. He replied immediately, “Of course. Let’s start with the county office.”

“You’ve already seen the First and Second Halls when you arrived. This is the rear quarters. Since no one has lived here for a long time, it’s… a bit neglected.” Xiang Shiye paused, looking somewhat embarrassed.

“Slightly run-down” was an understatement!

Duan Jin had taken a quick tour this morning—it was practically a dilapidated shack! No wonder the only habitable side room still had tiles falling off in the middle of the night; the holes in the other rooms were even bigger!

It was truly heartbreaking.