Volume One: The Lonely Beta Test Chapter Five: Shall We Share a Soup, My Lady?

The crowd gradually dispersed to their respective tasks, leaving nothing more to be said.

At this moment, Lin Feng arrived outside the side chamber. He noted the exquisite carvings on the eaves and beams, wind chimes suspended from each corner, their silvery tones ringing gently in the breeze; the lattice windows were inlaid with images of birds, magpies, and blossoming trees. From afar, wisps of blue smoke curled under the distant eaves, where two maids were adding firewood to the stove.

“Ancient wealthy folk truly lived in comfort, building such a grand house just for bathing!” he thought, recalling the cramped restroom in the school district apartment he bought before crossing over—so small you could not open the door if you sat down. The contrast moved him deeply.

As soon as Lin Feng stepped inside, a wave of delicate fragrance greeted him. A beautifully crafted incense burner emitted a thin plume of smoke; Lin Feng closed his eyes, inhaling deeply, and instantly felt refreshed. “These ancient luxuries are far superior to modern air fresheners—absolutely pure and natural! There must be even better pleasures awaiting,” he chuckled inwardly.

His gaze fell on the large steaming wooden tub at the center of the room and the two busy maids beside it, sending his mind into a reverie.

“Young Master, the bath is ready for your enjoyment!” The two women, noticing Lin Feng’s arrival, hurried over in small steps, bowing together.

“Bath? Uh…?” Lin Feng looked at the massive wooden tub. Had he, in his haste, taken the wrong turn? Was this actually the kitchen?

“Very well. Would you care to join me?” Seeing the two girls flushed and sweaty, and judging by the hour, he guessed it was nearly dinnertime and thought to invite them. Coming from two millennia in the future, Lin Feng was unused to notions of hierarchy.

“Um…” The two women exchanged glances, their cheeks turning crimson.

“No need for so many formalities with me in the future,” Lin Feng said, stepping forward.

The two maids behind him lowered their heads, their faces and necks flushed, eyes filled with complicated emotions. After a hesitant pause, they replied, “As you wish, Young Master.”

With that, their hands slowly untied their sashes.

“Earlier, Sister Xin’er said the Young Master seemed to have become a different person after waking, even taking liberties with the young lady. Looks like Lan’er and the others inside…” A maid who had come to check the water temperature happened to witness the scene at the door. She quickly retreated and whispered to a woman tending the fire, “Xier, keep your voice down. Servants like us can’t gossip about the Young Master’s affairs. Besides, being favored by him is their good fortune.” The woman’s tone was ambiguous, as if she was not sure whether to sympathize or envy those inside. She stuffed an enormous log into the stove.

“What are you two talking about?” Unbeknownst to them, Xin’er had arrived behind them.

“Sister Xin’er… we… we weren’t saying anything!” Xier was startled, and the woman looked terrified as well.

Xin’er was the young lady’s personal maid, and everyone knew who the young lady was—the prefect's daughter. If their words reached the prefect, it might cost them their heads.

“Xier, I heard everything. If I ever catch you gossiping again, you’ll regret it.” Xin’er was furious and could not understand how her earlier words had been twisted into this.

“Yes, yes!” The two immediately fell to their knees, nodding like pecking chicks.

“Get up. Has the Young Master finished bathing?” Xin’er didn’t pursue the matter further—it had started with her, after all. Though she hadn’t meant it that way, rumors had already twisted it beyond recognition. If an adult investigated, she’d be implicated too.

“Um…” The woman hesitated.

“What is it? Speak. Consider it atonement for your earlier offense, or else…”

Xin’er, seeing her uncertainty, pressed further, knowing that matters concerning Lin Feng were of the utmost importance to her mistress.

The woman glanced at Xier, then recounted what Xier had just witnessed. Both were deeply uneasy—if gossiping about the young lady was forbidden, could one speak freely of the Young Master?

After hearing the story, Xin’er stomped her foot in anger. “Hmph! So you want to enjoy yourself, do you? Then I’ll add more fuel to your pleasure!” She ordered, “Add all this firewood!” The two dared not obey, so Xin’er did it herself, triumphantly piling more wood into the stove. “Scald that libertine!”

While the three women outside discussed Lin Feng, our Young Master Lin approached the wooden tub.

Stepping closer, he saw fragrant herbs and what looked like loofah floating in the water. Suddenly realizing his mistake, his face flushed crimson.

Turning around, he saw the two maids, now dressed only in chest wraps, standing shyly before him—heads lowered, cheeks burning, hands clasped before their rising and falling breaths.

“This…”

Lin Feng was dumbfounded. The sight was so tempting his eyes itched, a heat rising in his belly, and a dormant part of him began to stir. Uncle Meng from the ship’s crew often quipped, “Three to five months at sea, even pickled vegetables taste like meat.” But this… this was far beyond that—a deadly temptation!

“Young Master, may we assist you in undressing?” The maid’s words snapped Lin Feng back to reality, her blush spreading down her neck.

“Uh, that won’t be necessary. You may leave; I can manage on my own.”

After the two left, with mixed relief and disappointment, Lin Feng quickly stripped and plunged into the tub, submerging himself until the heat in his body dissipated, then emerged for air. Lin Feng was no paragon of virtue, unmoved amidst temptation. He’d only been in this world for a day—though he’d come to terms with much, he was far from fully accepting his new reality.

This was the end of the Han dynasty, a time when life was cheap and chaos imminent. Survival was his foremost concern. Deep within, he felt a calling, urging him to accomplish something. Perhaps his actions now were tinged with cowardice.

Though it was every man’s dream to have three wives and four concubines and share a grand bed, when the dream was at hand, it was natural to shrink back, especially for someone who’d never experienced even a mock battle, let alone the real thing. This was a grand spectacle, and not surrendering immediately was already impressive.

Lying in the water, head resting on the tub’s edge, Lin Feng exhaled and began to reflect on recent events. It was now an unchangeable fact: he had arrived at the end of the Han dynasty.

But what kind of transmigration had this been? In idle moments before, Lin Feng had read some time-travel novels and knew of two main types: one where the soul occupies another’s body, with family and friends still around—that was the luckier kind; the other, where both body and soul traverse time together. He believed he was fortunate.

Yet, when he wiped the water from his head, he realized his hair was short, not long. Leaning forward to peer into the water, he saw the same familiar face he’d known from his own time. Even the childhood scar on his right temple was there.

“What’s going on?” He was puzzled. If this was a soul transmigration, how could someone identical to him exist two thousand years ago, scar and all? And what about the short hair?

If both body and soul had traveled, why did he have a complete household waiting for him?

The reality he now faced didn’t fit either scenario. His mind spun, unable to make sense of it all.

“Whatever. Since I’m here, I’ll make the best of it.” Unable to figure it out, Lin Feng simply leaned back, closed his eyes, and rested. The sound of wind chimes outside and the fragrant air lulled him; the warmth of the water relaxed him so completely that he drifted off to sleep.

Yearning, longing to ask, where are you now? Parting dreams linger as long as shadows, the autumn moon shines over Mount Song. In vain the years slip by—where can I seek your fragrant trace?

If only I could forge great deeds and raise a cup of wine by candlelight!

If only in this life I could become the wind at your side, forever chasing your dreams!

As melodious zither notes floated on the clear moonlit night, a gentle, longing song drifted through the air.

“Siwei… Yan’er…”

Guided by the song, Lin Feng hurried up the mountain. Passing through a grove of long-dead peach trees, a hazy figure appeared before him.

“You little rogue, haven’t you always wanted to know my ultimate skill? Alas, fate will not let us be together. Rather than let years slip by and youth fade, I’ll give you all my splendor now!”

As she spoke, in a blink, it was as if spring arrived: the dead peach trees burst into bloom, and the ethereal figure vanished into a sea of flowers.

Enveloped in a blush of petals, Lin Feng felt a stabbing pain in his heart. He gazed at the sky, trying to hold back tears, but they slid down his cheeks despite himself.

“Master, hurry! Master Ashou’s Canopy is about to burn away!” he heard someone cry.

Looking up, Lin Feng saw a line of fire racing across the distant sky, swallowing the night above his head. Soon darkness would consume everything. The zither music on the mountain grew urgent as Lin Feng ran desperately upward, but before he’d gotten far, the burning canopy fell, wrapping him in searing heat.

“Damn it, where did these phantoms come from?” After so many dreams within dreams, Lin Feng knew he was still dreaming, for he had just been in a bath. Most likely, exhausted by the shock of transmigration and soothed by the warm water, he had fallen asleep.

Unwilling to suffer in such a dream, Lin Feng pinched himself, trying to wake up. He pinched so hard he felt he could not go any further, but felt no pain—because he was gripping the edge of the tub, not his own flesh. His fingers had turned purple, and the steam rising from the water was thicker than before.

Suddenly, whether from numbness or seeking a new spot to pinch, his hands slipped, and he plunged into the water. Gasping for air, Lin Feng woke with a start, leaping from the tub.

“This water… why is it so hot?” His entire body felt scorched, his skin fiery red.

“Good thing I woke in time—any longer and I’d have been boiled alive!” he muttered, shaken.

The events of the dream soon faded from his mind.

“Young Master, have you finished bathing?” came a woman’s voice from outside.

“Almost. Is there something you need?” Lin Feng replied as he dressed.

“Dinner is ready. Second Master has sent me to invite you,” the maid answered respectfully.

“All right. Wait a moment.” Lin Feng finished dressing, sat for a while in thought, then followed the maid to the evening banquet.