After Transmigrating, My Younger Brother Always Tries to Seduce Me - Chapter 3

Calling it picking them up wasn’t quite accurate. They had come to the Song Manor themselves, knocking on the gate. The moment Song Dezhong saw them, he seemed to lose his soul.

From that day forward, any new and exotic items in the manor were first sent to the Third Concubine’s quarters. Even the precious fabrics imported from the Western Regions were used to make clothes for them first.

Song Heng’s mother, Lu Lin, had initially settled them in a remote side room. But within two days, the Third Concubine complained about the damp and cold, demanding a change of rooms. This move brought them right next to the main residence.

Lu Lin wept daily, cursing them as fox spirits in disguise and Song Dezhong as bewitched.

Song Heng, also resentful, often set traps for the pair. He rarely saw the Third Concubine herself, but since their arrival, he had to endure daily sightings of Song Zhen playing around the manor.

Thus, Song Zhen became Song Heng’s target for venting his frustrations.

When Song Zhen refused to learn needlework, Song Heng taught her how to climb walls.

When she refused to study etiquette, Song Heng taught her to ride horses.

Countless times, Song Heng accidentally knocked Song Zhen off walls or horses, leaving her bruised and battered. He never offered a hand to help her up, only extending it when she was truly unable to rise on her own.

To outsiders, Song Heng appeared to be a refined young gentleman, generous and composed, deeply concerned for Song Zhen. Only behind closed doors did one learn that Song Zhen was frequently scolded by Song Dezhong, forced to kneel and endure reprimands despite his legs being covered in injuries.

Sometimes, these kneeling sessions lasted an entire night.

As a result, the Third Concubine’s room was always stocked with various medicines, mostly for bruises and injuries.

Zhu Zhenzhen placed a blue-wrapped bundle on the table. The way it was tied was peculiar a simple tug on the two corners would unravel it.

The gold and silver treasures inside instantly dazzled Song Heng’s eyes.

Moreover… the more he looked at the gold, the more it resembled the decorative ornaments on the pillars.

Zhu Zhenzhen rummaged through the bundle, her words flowing without pause. You’re so lucky, she said, handing Song Heng a wound salve. This room really does have medicine, and it’s quite effective. I applied it to your leg yesterday.

Song Heng took the salve and sniffed it. It was indeed the same type the Third Concubine often used on Song Zhen.

A sudden coolness on his leg made Song Heng glance down. He saw a dark head bent over his leg.

Song Heng loathed anyone being so close to him.

Instinctively, he bent his knee to kick, but a sharp pain shot through his leg, preventing him from even extending it. Instead, his leg jerked forward slightly. He could only ask dryly, What are you doing?

Zhu Zhenzhen didn’t look up. Changing your dressing. She slowly unwrapped the bandage. As your elder sister, I should take good care of my younger brother.

Before Song Heng could react, Zhu Zhenzhen asked again, Are our parents… gone?

Zhu Zhenzhen’s reasoning was simple. Song Heng had broken in late at night, found the medicine, yet showed no urgency to find their family. She assumed he must have seen their bodies along the way.

The moment the medicine touched his wound, it burned like fire, causing Song Heng’s fingers to twitch in pain.

Of the Song Family’s 253 members, 48 had been burned beyond recognition, including his parents.

Zhu Zhenzhen suddenly grabbed his hand, prying open his tightly clenched fist.

The faint sting of the indentations left by his fingernails digging into his palm momentarily distracted him. Song Heng stared blankly at his hand, forgetting to pull away. After living through an entire lifetime, did he still care so much?

Warmth radiated from the back of his hand—the body temperature of the person beside him. He heard, A’Heng, don’t worry. Your sister is here. You’re not alone.

Having taken over the original owner’s body, she resolved to live well.

The sunlight was perfect, the breeze gentle. Zhu Zhenzhen had gathered half a bag of jewelry, and with Song Heng’s guidance, she added some silver coins.

According to Jianghu rules, anyone fleeing with gold and silver must act timid and cautious, making others wrinkle their noses and avoid them, ensuring no one suspects they’re carrying wealth.

Bend your back more.

Lean down further.

Aha! That’s it!

Zhu Zhenzhen repeatedly coached Song Heng. Standing there like a pine tree, this pampered young master would stick out like a crane among chickens if he wasn’t properly disguised.

Add some dirt, Zhu Zhenzhen said, smearing mud across his face. And change your clothes. With a flourish, she produced two sets of patched-up rags, their original colors completely obscured.

Song Heng leaned in for a sniff and, as expected, caught a whiff of sour rot.

His vision swam.

At noon, two scrawny beggars appeared on the street, both limping and supporting each other, taking turns with each step.

Song Heng whispered, Do we really have to walk like this? My leg feels like it’s about to cramp.

Zhu Zhenzhen replied in a hushed tone, Of course! Look how everyone avoids us.

The street was too noisy for Song Heng to hear her. What did you say?

Dodging a fish basket, Zhu Zhenzhen raised her voice slightly. I said they’re all avoiding us.

The clamor from the steamed bun shop drowned out her words, prompting Song Heng to ask again.

Zhu Zhenzhen turned her head, tugged on Song Heng’s shoulder, and whispered in his ear, I said they’re all fools. They have no idea how rich we are.

We… are we really that rich? Song Heng asked, his eyes wide as he stared at Zhu Zhenzhen.

Zhu Zhenzhen nodded emphatically, her eyes shining. Of course!

Song Heng recalled the contents of their luggage. Even combined, they wouldn’t be enough to buy a single painting he had casually purchased years ago.

For a moment, his expression grew complicated.

Thump! Zhu Zhenzhen’s nose stung, and she nearly teared up. Covering her nose, she took a step back and first noticed the man’s barrel-like waist. Following the barrel upward, she saw a sagging double chin, a bulbous nose, and drooping eye bags—a combination that was utterly repulsive.

Are you blind or something? The massive figure roared, silencing the entire street.

Those who could pack up their stalls did so immediately. The rest stood obediently to the side, barely daring to breathe, terrified of drawing his ire.

Beside the fat man stood a skinny, monkey-like figure who stepped forward, positioning himself in front of the fat man. In a shrill voice, he demanded, Are you blind? This fabric is a new import from the Western Regions. Can you afford to pay for it if you stain it?

Skinny Monkey dusted off the fat man’s clothes and continued, Who doesn’t know Lord Li? On the first day of every mid-month, our lord arrives precisely on time to collect his silver. Those who know better will quickly hand over their dues. His rat-like eyes darted around the crowd, his words laced with veiled threats.

Lord Li… the notorious bully Li Jiadong I heard about at the market today.

Zhu Zhenzhen reacted swiftly, lowering her head deeply. I wouldn’t dare, sir. I’m just a lowly beggar, blocking your path and soiling your noble eyes.

Song Heng’s mind raced, but he couldn’t recall any information about this man. He noticed the dark circles under his eyes and his unsteady gait—a low-ranking thug, no doubt. Yet Song Heng had no intention of intervening, content to watch the drama unfold silently.

He was curious to see how Song Zhen, given her current temperament, would handle this situation.

Alright, I won’t make it too hard on you, Skinny Monkey said with a sly grin.

The fabric is soiled—a fine of one hundred taels. You bumped into our lord—another one hundred taels. That’s two hundred taels in total. Will you pay in cash, or would you prefer to sell yourself into servitude at our lord’s manor?

Two hundred taels? This is highway robbery! No matter how hard Zhu Zhenzhen squinted, she couldn’t see any dirt. And they wanted compensation for emotional distress? The fat bastard already looked half-dead what did that have to do with her?

Judging by the fearful expressions of the surrounding vendors, this wasn’t the first time such an incident had occurred.

She had no money, and stealing two hundred taels was impossible. A plan suddenly formed in her mind.

Wealthy people, especially local bullies like this one, valued their lives above all else. Even if they couldn’t extort money, they wouldn’t risk their necks.

Lord Li, Zhu Zhenzhen declared, lifting her chin and extending her arm as if to grasp him. Tears streamed down her face, her voice trembling with emotion. I have nothing. Please, take me with you. My mother always said I was unwanted, that no one would take me even as a servant, that I’d be shunned if I fell ill. But you’re different. I’m not unwanted.

The sudden shift caught Skinny Monkey off guard, and Song Heng’s mind froze for a moment. He vaguely remembered the Third Concubine doting on her daughter how could she have said such things?

For a moment, the marketplace fell into complete silence.

In the next instant, Zhu Zhenzhen turned her face back, tears welling in her eyes and streaming down her cheeks as if they cost nothing. A’Heng, she sobbed, I can finally save enough money to treat your illness.

Her voice trembled as she gripped Song Heng’s injured leg. A’Heng, there’s hope for your tuberculosis! Once I start working at Lord Li’s manor and earn enough, I’ll get you the treatment you need, okay?

Seeing the younger brother’s pale face and his mouth slightly agape as if he couldn’t breathe, the crowd instantly believed her words.

Zhu Zhenzhen turned to face Li Jiadong, but before she could speak, she clutched her mouth and nose, her shoulders heaving as coughs escaped between her lips.

No one dared to speak. It was clear to everyone that her tuberculosis had flared up. Within the time it took to drink half a cup of tea, she coughed up bl00d.

Bl00d still trickled from Zhu Zhenzhen’s lips as she dropped to her knees with a thud. She crawled forward, grabbing Skinny Monkey’s lapels. Lord, Lord, please help me! she pleaded, her expression bordering on madness. Help me, Lord…

Only when his lapels were tugged did Skinny Monkey snap out of his daze. He kicked Zhu Zhenzhen so hard she flew several meters, then spat on the ground. Disgusting! I wasted so much breath on this sickly wretch.

Li Jiadong’s face darkened abruptly, the loose flesh on his cheeks trembling violently as if he had witnessed something utterly repulsive. With a sharp flick of his sleeve, he turned and strode away without another word.

With the protagonist knocked down and the antagonist retreating, the crowd gradually dispersed. No one cared about a penniless, powerless beggar.

Before long, the hawkers’ cries resumed, and the market buzzed back to life as if nothing had happened.

Song Heng raised an eyebrow and sauntered over to Zhu Zhenzhen, standing before her and looking down.

She was in far worse shape than when she had left the manor. Though not yet fully blossomed, her youthful features already bore a striking resemblance to the Third Concubine.

Bl00d still clung to the corners of her lips, trailing down her collar. A faint shoe print was visible on her abdomen, and the scabbed wound on her leg had reopened, crimson bl00d seeping through the fabric like blooming winter plums, dotting the cloth in vivid crimson.

Even in this state, she managed a cheerful grin, teasing him, Isn’t your sister clever? I saved two hundred taels! As soon as the words left her lips, a metallic tang flooded her throat. Her face twisted in a grimace before she coughed up a mouthful of bloody froth.

Zhu Zhenzhen brushed the corner of her mouth, unconcerned. The sunlight was too blinding to make out Song Heng’s expression. She simply extended her hand and said casually, Give me a hand up.

Song Heng gazed at her outstretched hand, its slender, elegant fingers. He finally obeyed, helping Zhu Zhenzhen to her feet.

Staring into her eyes, he demanded, What about the bl00d? Where did it come from?

Zhu Zhenzhen’s performance earlier had been flawless. His leg still throbbed faintly, and he was certain she hadn’t held back at all—that pressure had been deliberately aimed at making him pale and look utterly miserable.

Zhu Zhenzhen tapped her lip, the crimson stain transferring to her fingertip. She smiled. Just a little bite. It’s nothing.

To bleed that much, a mere bite wouldn’t suffice. Skinny Monkey’s kick hadn’t been light. But since Zhu Zhenzhen insisted, he kept his thoughts to himself.

The moon climbed over the eaves, its silvery light cascading down.

In a local inn, Zhu Zhenzhen was engaged in a heated tug-of-war with the innkeeper’s assistant.

Just a meal or a room?

A room.

Short stay or long stay?

Short stay.

The innkeeper’s eyes curved into a smile—a big spender had arrived.

Would the guest prefer an upper-class room, a mid-class room, or a lower-class room?

Zhu Zhenzhen replied firmly, Mid-class.

She knew that a mid-class room with a single bed would suffice. An upper-class room with its own courtyard was too extravagant, while a lower-class room was just a large communal sleeping area.

The innkeeper took up his brush and ink to record the details. Please provide your information, guest. What is your name? Where do you reside? If you’re not a local, may I see your Pass Permit?

Pass Permits were issued by the government and stamped with the local seal, each region’s seal being unique. This served as a form of identification.

Obtaining one was relatively simple register with the government, wait for officials to inspect your home, and receive the permit within three to five days.

Song Heng and Zhu Zhenzhen both had Pass Permits, but they were now useless. On the day they fled the manor, they had exchanged their clothes with two charred corpses of similar build to create the illusion of their deaths.

Zhu Zhenzhen forced a smile. What if we don’t have a Pass Permit?

The innkeeper replied, That won’t do. The Pass Permit was a measure proposed by the Prince to the Emperor. Since its implementation, the people have been saying the crime rate has decreased…

Prince, Prince, Prince… Which Prince was this? How was he everywhere?

…Social harmony has been restored. The riffraff can no longer act with impunity. Peace will soon reign throughout the land. Zhu Zhenzhen finished the innkeeper’s sentence, reciting it by rote. As she spoke, her eyes rolled upward in exasperation.

She had heard this same spiel at least ten times today.

Are you two looking for lodging? a fox-like voice purred in her ear.