Chapter 2
Our Discord Server: https://discord.gg/PazjBDkTmW
You can buy coins here to unlock advanced chapters: https://gravitytales.com/coins-purchase-page/
Chapter 2: Jiang Wu, Truly a Good Person… No Wonder He Received No Good Turn.
Liu Lao Wu arrived quickly, with Aunt Tian following behind. She hurried to the kitchen, not daring to glance at the guards who looked scarier than villains.
\"Oh, Tan Tou is here! Our little post station needs your help again,\" Liu Lao Wu called out from a distance, his face wrinkling into a smile like a crumpled flower. He walked briskly to Tan Wang at the side room\’s entrance, gave a nod, and smiled at Zhao Qi standing nearby. \"Brother Zhao is with you this time too.\"
\"She fell and was injured. See if she can be saved,\" Tan Wang said, not in the mood for small talk, pointing to the person lying on the straw inside.
\"She fell from such a high slope, covered in blood. I think she\’s beyond saving,\" Zhao Qi murmured softly.
Sanqiao Post Station\’s east and west courtyards were proper guest rooms, while the back courtyard\’s east row of rundown side rooms held sundries or housed low-level travelers or prisoners under escort.
Liu Lao Wu stood at the door, catching a strong mildew smell. He glanced into the farthest side room, where two women occupied a corner on rotten straw heaps amid clutter. Though not shackled, both wore prisoner clothes and ankle restraints.
Helping prisoners…
He took another look at Tan Wang standing coldly with his arms crossed. Liu Lao Wu weighed the situation and didn\’t enter. Instead, he pulled two small paper packets from his sleeve and held them out to Tan Wang. \"Tan Tou knows me—I\’ve no healing skills. I just keep wound medicine handy because the roads near Sanqiao Post Station are rough and mountainous.\"
\"Hmm,\" Tan Wang replied, taking the packets and tossing them inside.
\"It\’s late now. Will Tan Tou stay? Should I arrange a room?\" Liu Lao Wu asked again.
Tan Wang nodded. \"Eight more guards and thirty-seven prisoners are coming. Oh, Commissioner Xu from the Penal Department is here too. Handle it as you see fit.\"
From two prisoners to over thirty, though night fell, Liu Lao Wu\’s quick calculations brightened his eyes.
\"Got it, leave it to me, Tan Tou! The station master hasn\’t seen you in ages and misses you dearly,\" Liu Lao Wu said, bowing as he led the way.
\"Liu… Liu Lao, please wait…\" Jiang Wu called out, holding the thin layer of medicine he\’d unsealed. \"This medicine…\"
\"For external use. Just cover the wounds with it,\" Liu Lao Wu said kindly but dismissively, glancing at the woman\’s ankle chained tightly to a post, allowing only two steps.
His gaze swept over the person lying down. Her restraints were also secured, keeping both away from the sundries across the room—solid work, as expected from Tan Tou.
\"Her injuries aren\’t just external. She hit her head; there\’s a swelling at the back. Could it be internal…\" Jiang Wu tried to explain.
Liu Lao Wu peeked at Tan Wang for a hint but saw none.
\"I don\’t know about internal injuries. I only have this wound medicine. An old man shouldn\’t treat a young girl—you handle it,\" Liu Lao Wu waved him off, honestly admitting his limits.
He gave the speaking woman another look. Her head was wrapped in coarse cloth, strands of soft black hair escaping. Her hands holding the medicine were long and fair, and despite the dirt and prisoner clothes, her fine features and noble air showed she came from wealth.
Fortunes change—hopefully she was smart and had money.
Liu Lao Wu, busy calculating, added, \"I\’ll send someone with cloth strips for bandaging later.\"
\"Could you come in and help, check her pulse…\" Jiang Wu struggled to stop him, the chain clanking taut between his ankle and the post.
\"You…\" Zhao Qi raised an eyebrow, turning.
Tan Wang stretched out his right hand, sword scabbard blocking Zhao Qi. He frowned at the person inside. \"He can\’t help.\"
\"This isn\’t enough…\" Jiang Wu clenched the paper packet. \"Is there a doctor in a nearby village, or…\"
\"You can bandage her now or wait for her to bleed out,\" Tan Wang said coldly.
Emptying, it wouldn\’t happen.
Though Du Yinsui felt trapped in a haze of consciousness, unable to wake or control her body, she had smelled it the moment she arrived.
As an elite smell ability user, her instincts let her sense awaken before her mind.
The fresh dampness, the earthy scent, the lightly bitter green of living plants…
Within a kilometer\’s radius, there was no stench of zombies, no complex odors from mutated plants and animals—only the lightly decaying scent of ordinary fallen leaves.
There were also… shepherd\’s purse, water celery, chrysanthemums, tiny birds, sturdy donkeys and horses, chickens that ate voraciously and produced plenty of droppings… those must have been two plump chickens…!
Then, she caught a scent… very close, emanating from a single person—the scent of despair.
The withering and desolation of all things, decay and ruin, intertwined bitterness and sourness gathering in the cold emptiness—it was despair, a lifeless heart, infinite pain and numbness. This overwhelming emotional outburst from a human overpowered all previously enticing natural fragrances, even masking the faint, complex scents of nearby people.
Back then, Du Yinsui had just arrived. She hadn’t yet received the original body’s memories, nor had time to grasp the situation. She only instinctively struggled to open her eyes upon smelling the intensifying scent of despair drawing near.
Hurried, frantic footsteps echoed with the frequent clanking of metal. A woman in russet robes stumbled forward in panic.
Through blurred vision, Du Yinsui saw a pale face framed by disheveled, ink-black hair, a large \"囚\" (prisoner) character emblazoned on the russet garment, and the metal chains around the ankles that nearly tripped the woman.
That was Du Yinsui’s first glimpse of this world after crossing over—and so far, her only one.
After that single glance, Du Yinsui lost all control over the body. She couldn’t even open her eyes. Worst of all… she simultaneously lost her enhanced sense of smell.
No, it wasn’t that she couldn’t smell at all.
Lying on the grass, Du Yinsui could still detect the scent of nearby grass and soil, the metallic tang of blood likely from her own injuries, and… a human scent carrying a hint of warmth, mingled with rust and dry dust, brushing against her nose.
But she could no longer perceive the surrounding plants, animals, or people—their numbers, distances, appearances, whether they were good or bad, content or despairing…
All that remained was an ordinary human’s sense of smell—long forgotten and utterly unfamiliar.
For Du Yinsui, who was accustomed to her post-apocalyptic olfactory mutation—capable of discerning details within five hundred meters and detecting presences up to a kilometer away—this was like a severely nearsighted person discarding their glasses. It practically meant smelling nothing at all.
A truly catastrophic start.
Yet now, jostled along on a cart while absorbing the original owner’s memories, Du Yinsui felt a flicker of hope amidst her anger.
Though surrounded by a pungent mildew odor even an ordinary nose couldn’t ignore, her mood was less bleak than when she’d inhaled the pollution-free plant scents earlier. She realized her pain had lessened somewhat.
Whether it was the head injury, the potentially broken limbs, or the swollen neck from the original owner’s failed hanging attempt the previous night—none seemed as agonizing as when she first arrived.
Pessimistically, it might mean she was adapting… or worse, numbness from severe blood loss. But optimistically!
Perhaps the heavens—having wiped out her life savings twice—had finally shown mercy, allowing her apocalypse-honed physique to follow her here!
After all, based on Du Yinsui’s diligent use of her abilities in the wasteland, everything she smelled upon arrival was real, not an illusion. The edible wild greens and flowers, the now-distant plump chickens, or…
Footsteps accompanied by rattling chains approached heavily.
Du Yinsui felt her clothing gently lifted. The rustling of paper mingled with the sound of medicinal powder being sprinkled onto her skin, causing an itch. Out of habit, she tried to analyze the powder’s components through scent, but alas—to her current self, it merely smelled like herbs.
It was fine. At least that fleeting moment proved her olfactory ability had crossed over. Surely her enhanced self-healing physique would follow!
Immobilized like a vegetable, Du Yinsui could only cling to this hope.
After all… according to the original owner’s memories, tonight was the third day without the antidote—the day the poison would claim her life. If her post-apocalyptic mutant body—which shrugged off ordinary toxins and boasted formidable regeneration—hadn’t followed her… this transmigration would grant her mere hours to live!
Dying in the apocalyptic wasteland’s grand explosion was one thing, but setting aside her current wretched body and identity… this was a normal ancient world!
No rampaging zombies, no territory-seizing mutant flora and fauna—a world where food tasted as it should!
Just for the chance to eat normal food…
She *wanted* to live!
She *could* still live!
Especially since she’d smelled the rich aroma of dried radishes and some type of beans nearby earlier.
Radishes! How many years had it been? Seven years… no, it felt like seven centuries since she’d last tasted them!
Farewell, bitter grasses—my lifelong nemesis!
Du Yinsui greedily dredged up memories of pre-apocalypse food flavors, her will to survive surging, when a soft breeze brushed her cheek.
\"Miss Du, stay alive. Once we reach Linzhou, I’ll clear land. When I earn enough silver, I’ll find a way to send you away.\"
\"Look at Master Wei traveling with us—twice exiled, twice returned to the Capital to serve as an official. Staying alive opens paths to the future.\"
\"Miss Du, I know this is all my fault, dragging you into this. Please endure a while longer. Once I…\"
A woman leaned close. Her voice was low, steady, and gentle, carrying a warmth that seemed to offer comforting hope as it reached Du Yinsui’s ears.
Well, if Du Yinsui hadn’t already smelled this person’s profound despair, she might have believed it.
Never mind whether exiles in Linzhou could truly earn money—their identities alone made escape difficult even with funds.
As for Master Wei? True, he’d been pardoned twice after exile and returned to office. But this was his *third* exile. Yes, life offered a future… a future of further exile, perhaps…
Jiang Wu was a good man, but truly inept at offering comfort.
Only the unfinished \"Once I…\" revealed a sliver of sincerity.
*Once he… what?* Once the Deposed Crown Prince died, would they deem his Deposed Crown Princess worthless and spare her? How naïve.
The original owner might not have grasped the implication, but Du Yinsui had smelled Jiang Wu’s essence. In her experience, the sheer density of despair and pain clinging to him made his continued survival a miracle.
No—more accurately, he breathed, but his spirit was already dead.
The irony was exquisite: someone who’d utterly given up on life was straining every nerve to persuade someone desperate to live… to cling to life.
Du Yinsui could only sigh inwardly.
Jiang Wu was indeed a good man.
No wonder fortune never favored him.
