It Is Said That I Have Been Crushed By Dimensionality Reduction (Quick Travel) - Chapter 7

Lin Cuiniang didn’t forget that Liu Ermei was coming over, so she made sure to set aside a pot of sauerkraut fish just for her.

Meanwhile, Zhao Ping’an took the money the village chief had given them yesterday and went down to the village to buy some herbal medicine from the barefoot doctor—the kind who only treated scrapes and bruises from falls. This medicine couldn’t cure typhoid fever, but it might help improve some of the deficiencies Bai Yuan was suffering from. The price was steep for such a small hope.

Clutching the precious medicine bag, Zhao Ping’an hurried home.

On his way, a few villagers greeted him from a distance but quickly looked away, too embarrassed or wary to ask about the strange boy or what was happening with the Zhao family. All they could do was hint that the Zhaos were in deep trouble.

The whole village knew how difficult and bitter Mrs. Zhao was.

Hearing the rumors made Zhao Ping’an even more thankful that he’d signed the severance package and left the Zhao family behind. He didn’t have to wonder why there was so much fighting.

He picked up his pace, eager to get back.

Back at the Zhao family home, the atmosphere was heavy.

That morning, except for Zhao Fu—who pretended not to hear or see anything—Mrs. Zhao was crying uncontrollably. She sat on the floor, slapping her thighs and sobbing bitterly, “What terrible sin have I committed to give birth to such useless children? And their wives disrespect their elders!”

The Zhao family understood that without the help of the second son and his wife—who used to work like beasts of burden—the coming days would be difficult.

Autumn harvest was approaching.

The crops needed careful tending—fertilizing, watering, weeding—and every pest had to be identified and dealt with.

Those were tedious, exhausting chores.

And that wasn’t all.

The chickens and ducks in the yard also needed feeding. That job had been Brother Yuan’s responsibility, while Lin Cuiniang handled the cooking and laundry.

Early that morning, Mother-in-law Zhao started dividing the labor: the family had to work the fields, while she stayed home to look after the children, cutting grass to feed the fowl and doing the washing.

But the family’s spoiled attitudes clashed with this reality.

Zhao Pingshun grumbled, “This huge piece of land—how can three people manage it all?”

His wife, Tian Xiaowan, added unconsciously, “Brother Lin can’t live without me. If I want to be a proper scholar’s wife someday, I can’t be stuck doing hard farm work every day.”

Mrs. Zhao refused to help as well and continued beating her chest in tears and complaints.

Zhao Fu, bored with their whining, took matters into his own hands. He told his wife to stay home and work while he went out to serve the crops himself, determined not to delay the autumn harvest.

The family’s quarrels were already a laughingstock among the villagers. If things worsened, it would become a joke for everyone outside.

Mrs. Zhao didn’t dare to cry anymore but grew even more resentful and unhappy.

The household’s tension thickened.

Yet no one dared to ask Zhao Ping’an and Lin Cuiniang to return. The villagers held their breath and waited, hoping the young couple could bear the hardship a little longer—until they could once again be the family’s unpaid labor.

At the foot of the mountain, Zhao Ping’an arrived home and warned Lin Cuiniang to be cautious.

The Zhao family’s quarrels weren’t simple—they suspected Mrs. Zhao might try to sneak over and cause trouble.

Lin Cuiniang sneered. “Let her come. I’m not afraid of her.”

Hearing this, Zhao Ping’an hugged her with concern. “If anything happens, I’ll block her. Let her come to me.”

The couple quietly discussed plans for the future.

About half an hour later, Liu Ermei arrived with her daughter.

Lin Cuiniang greeted them warmly: “Second sister, little one, come sit. I’ve been waiting for you.”

Liu Xiaomei clung shyly to her mother.

Liu Ermei whispered to her daughter, “That’s Brother Yuan. He’s very sensible and kind, just like you.”

Liu Ermei herself often faced exclusion and bullying by other village children. She had heard rumors about Brother Yuan—that he too was bullied and called a “disaster star.”

She didn’t understand what that meant exactly.

But when she saw the boy with his soft white hair and skin so pale it seemed to glow, she didn’t feel fear. Instead, she felt more beautiful than any other child in the village. At the same time, a strange shame crept over her and she lowered her head.

Bai Yuan noticed the girl’s insecurity and unease.

He struggled to understand the complicated, ever-changing emotions of humans but couldn’t ignore a fragile life that, like him, faced rejection.

He paused, then asked the system quietly, “What do human children like?”

The system processed a flood of data and replied: In ancient times, poor children most enjoyed sugar and meat.

Sugar?

Bai Yuan had never seen or tasted sugar before.

But meat—the pot was filled with sauerkraut fish, a rich, savory stew.

Bai Yuan walked over and softly said, “Eat fish.”

The little girl’s mouth watered. Before Liu Ermei could say anything, Lin Cuiniang smiled and said, “I’m sorry, no egg custard today.”

Zhao Ping’an came out carrying the pot. “This is specially saved for you to try.”

A warm, unfamiliar fragrance filled the room.

Liu Ermei swallowed hard. Having not eaten meat for so long, her body instinctively craved it.

She tried to suppress her desire, but shock and anxiety were her first reactions. “Did you really catch this fish from the river?”

She assumed Zhao Ping’an and Lin Cuiniang couldn’t afford fish. Only the bravest dared risk fishing in the river nearby, especially Zhao Ping’an, who wasn’t a strong swimmer.

“We didn’t risk going into the river,” Lin Cuiniang said, touched and smiling. “Of course not. Otherwise, who else would Brother Yuan be?”

Liu Ermei felt relieved.

She didn’t press for more details. In the village, not even the weeds at the mountain foot were freely spoken about.

Her thoughtfulness moved Lin Cuiniang, who piled more food onto the plates. “Eat more, regain your strength.”

Liu Ermei’s eyes reddened, and she nodded quietly.

Liu Xiaomei tasted fish for the first time, her eyes brightening as she said, “Delicious.”

Liu Ermei felt a pang of sadness and guilt.

Zhao Ping’an and Lin Cuiniang watched with moist eyes.

Bai Yuan quietly absorbed the emotions in the room.

After the meal, Liu Ermei paused and said thoughtfully, “This dish tastes better than any restaurant in town. Maybe you could sell the recipe?”

She knew well the realities of village life: people had no capital, and with Brother Yuan’s unusual nature, setting up a food stall seemed impossible.

If they did start selling food and making money, jealousy would flare up among villagers.

If the Zhao family caused trouble again or if disasters struck—like droughts or floods—Brother Yuan would be blamed.

They would face competition and resentment.

If outsiders bullied Zhao Ping’an and Lin Cuiniang, the village might not protect them.

Just selling the recipe was risky enough.

When Zhao Ping’an and Lin Cuiniang heard this, they exchanged worried looks.

They had considered this plan before but never dared to act on it.

Without them, the Zhao family was poorer than ever, and they feared retaliation—rumors that they’d stolen the recipe or were profiting unfairly.

Years had passed.

Though the villagers still avoided Brother Yuan, no one had dared to cause real harm.

But selling the recipe would bring attention and potential danger.

The village’s only road passed right in front of their home, making it impossible to come and go unnoticed.

Moving away wasn’t something the couple dared to consider just yet.

Hearing their hesitation, Liu Ermei sighed. “I guess I’m too naive.”

Lin Cuiniang reassured her, “It’s okay. You just want us to have a better life.”

After Liu Ermei and her daughter left, Bai Yuan finally spoke, “Why are you afraid of them?”

The couple was silent.

The boy tilted his head, curiosity flickering in his white eyes.

They didn’t have a good answer.

But the child was thinking clearly.

It was simple—he wasn’t strong enough yet.

That was why his parents feared the Zhao family, the villagers, and all the dangers lurking beyond.

Bai Yuan hadn’t forgotten what was coming soon.

The floods.

The quiet reports to the officials.

The county magistrate sending soldiers to seize them.

Burning their home and trapping the family inside.

A grim plan was forming in his mind.

That night, Bai Yuan slowly opened his eyes.

He slipped quietly off the kang, pushed open the door, and stepped outside.

The moon hung high and pale, casting a silver glow over the village.

He moved silently along the muddy road, passing each house until he reached the Zhao family yard.

No dogs barked, no cicadas sang—the village was unnaturally still.

Bai Yuan extended his hand.

A small wisp of dark energy slipped from his fingers and spread through every home—except for the houses of Liu Ermei and Liu Xiaomei.

A test was beginning.

While everyone slept, they were suddenly pulled into a strange, fog-filled place.

Black mist swirled, and grotesque, twisted monsters emerged—swiftly swallowed by the darkness.

The frightened villagers huddled together, trembling.

“Where is this?” someone cried, terrified.

“Help! Someone help!” another screamed.

From the black fog, a massive figure appeared.

Strange horns curved from his forehead; his dark eyes were cold and merciless as he looked down on the trembling humans.

The terrifying presence made villagers faint with fear.

The giant raised a hand, and the grimacing creatures around him fell silent, as if surrendering.

This only deepened the villagers’ terror.

The giant’s voice rumbled like thunder: “Who pushed my friend into the lake?”

My friend?

Pushed into the lake?

The villagers were stunned.

They were simple mortals—how could they have done such a thing?

The village chief, shaking with fear, gathered courage and stammered, “Great King, we are innocent. No one here pushed your friend. Maybe you have come to the wrong village?”

Just as the villagers tried to explain, a twisted tree nearby shouted sharply, “King! These humans are lying! I saw them push Brother Yuan into the lake!”

The villagers gasped, eyes wide, minds reeling.

Brother Yuan…?

They suddenly recalled a few days ago when Brother Yuan had been pulled from the lake, near death.

They remembered how, just yesterday, Zhao Ping’an and Lin Cuiniang accused Brother Lin and other children of pushing someone into the lake.

The villagers began to retreat, confusion and fear washing over them.

The Zhao family and several others turned pale, unable to believe it.

How could this be true?

Who could have imagined that the so-called disaster star—such a strange, frail boy—would have a terrifying, powerful monster friend who had now come to demand answers?

Would you like me to help with the next chapter, or perhaps a summary or character analysis of Bai Yuan so far?