C1 Chu Hen's Transmigration(1)

Early in the morning, Chu Hen woke up punctually as he did every day. With his eyes still closed, his hand reached out toward the nightstand.

With a simple stretch, he would usually silence the light green frog-shaped alarm clock before it could ring at 6 a.m.

Years of routine had ingrained in him the habit of waking up a few minutes early.

"Ugh..."

He grumbled lazily, his right hand fumbling around the nightstand, arm stretching out as he luxuriously yawned.

"Hmm?"

His hand found nothing.

The alarm clock, usually within arm's reach, was not there. Instinctively, Chu Hen lifted his hand to shield his eyes from the sunlight peeking through the curtains, reluctantly opening them.

Between his fingers, he saw a scene of opulence: beaded curtains, embroidered drapes, intricately carved beams, floors inlaid with gold and jade, and railings of Han jade. The air was filled with the scent of exotic flowers and herbs—a truly splendid place, brimming with wealth and splendor.

"Good dreams know the season, they come alive in spring, sneaking in with the wind, wealth whispers without a sound."

Chu Hen whimsically altered the ancient poem in his mind, reluctant to rub his eyes for fear of waking from this dream that seemed more real than reality.

"I must be dreaming."

He was certain of it, as anyone who had gone to sleep in a modern bed the night before would be.

While pondering, he drew his hand back under the silky, satin quilt, continuing to savor the delightful dream.

As his thoughts settled, another wave of rich fragrance wafted over him. Chu Hen's nostrils flared as he took in several greedy breaths, the comfort smoothing out his furrowed brow in silent appreciation.

Naturally, his hands glided effortlessly under the silky covers.

"Ah... Mm..."

From beside him came intermittent, low, suppressed moans.

Then, Chu Hen's left hand encountered something warm and soft, a texture distinctly different from the smooth satin.

Glancing over, he saw the other side of the pillow adorned with a knitted dragon and phoenix design: a girl with disheveled long black hair, her delicate features partially obscured, exuding a shy charm.

Lying next to him was a girl with her shoulders half-revealed, her round face exceptionally delicate through the tangle of her hair, the source of the subtle fragrance.

Chu Hen was startled, feeling a biological current surge from his scalp down to his toes. As a tingling sensation lingered on his head, a sense of foreboding overwhelmed him. He clenched his fists, pressing his thumb against his index finger until it hurt. After a moment, he took a deep breath, exhaled slowly, and calmly rose from the bed. He threw off the covers, stepped out, slipped into his undergarments, donned his robe, and nonchalantly cracked his neck. Catching a glimpse of the young girl still softly crying, he pushed the door open with detachment.

The door creaked lightly, and the sound of footsteps approached from a distance. Whether it was Chu Hen dressing, opening the door, or the ambient noise outside, the girl on the bed remained motionless, her gaze vacant and lifeless as though she were a fish on a cutting board.

Outside, Chu Hen's composure was shattered. He clenched his thumb again until his joints popped, the pain confirming his suspicion. He slightly furrowed his brow.

"This isn't a dream!" he exclaimed. "I've traveled back to ancient times!"

For a 21st-century young man who had read countless transmigration novels, facing the reality of such an event was anything but calming.

The courtyard outside featured a tri-arched gateway, with greenery strategically placed to offer a view without obstructing sightlines. The servants, dressed in period attire, hastened their steps as if reacting to his presence.

"Young Master He? What's the matter? Is it that girl?" asked a portly middle-aged man, hurrying over with quick, short steps. Noticing Chu Hen's clenched fists and unusual demeanor, he swiftly dropped his obsequious grin and turned to bark at a servant behind him, "Take that wretch to Mama Flower, so she learns the consequences of not attending to the young master properly."

With the command issued, the man's chubby, greasy face once again broke into a sycophantic smile. He bowed, looking up with a simpering grin, the very picture of a fawning sycophant.

"Wait!"

The idea of selling a woman into a brothel? Having just arrived in this time, Chu Hen was faced with an act so vile that it clashed with his 21st-century morals. He couldn't bring himself to do it, so he halted the servant in his tracks.

Judging by the current situation, he must have traveled to a time where he was part of a powerful family, taking on the role of a young master. Hence, stopping this should pose no issue.

Still, to be on the safe side, it was better to...

"First... take care of her and await my decision!"

The fewer words, the better. Considering his role as a young master, Chu Hen stripped the casualness from his command, changing the tone from suggestive to authoritative.

"Yes, Young Master!"

The portly man straightened up slightly before bowing again, his greasy, pig-fat-laden face turning towards the other servants, reinforcing his role as a high-ranking lackey.

Chu Hen found the act of giving orders somewhat satisfying as he watched the compliant man, a strangely familiar feeling washing over him.

"Butler Chu!"

"At your service!"

The rotund man stood at attention, and Butler Chu's sycophantic smile vanished, replaced by a look of staunch loyalty.

As per the usual routine, the young master would wash up, offer incense at the ancestral hall, and then have breakfast. But judging by the young master's disheveled appearance and furrowed brow, his mood seemed sour, likely due to an unfulfilling night.

Butler Chu quickly devised a strategy.

"What would you have me do, Young Master He?"

The young master's foul mood meant that washing could wait, but visiting the ancestral hall in such attire was improper.

Then again, why bother with propriety? Within the walls of the Chu estate, the young master was the very definition of propriety. Hadn't he spent the previous year's end with the top courtesan from the Emerald Cloud Restaurant behind the ancestral hall? So what if he hadn't freshened up?

Besides, Young Master He was the apple of the old master's eye. When the old master was present, no one dared cross him. And now...

"Uh..."

As the words "Butler Chu" slipped out, Chu Hen realized not only had he crossed over to another time, but the memories of his predecessor were also beginning to resurface slowly.

Of course, his primary concern at the moment was to keep his true identity under wraps. Being discovered could lead to the severe private punishments meted out by the nobility, which were no laughing matter.

Images of being trapped in a pig cage, dismembered, and other gruesome tortures flashed through Chu Hen's mind, causing a shiver to run down his spine.

After a brief pause, he clutched his stomach and said, "I need to use the restroom."

Everyone has their urgent needs, and surely even the ancients couldn't avoid nature's call, right? This excuse, thought up by Chu Hen on the spot, seemed perfect. A little time alone in the restroom to collect his thoughts and calm down couldn't hurt.

Besides, his stomach was truly in turmoil, and he couldn't recall what he had eaten the previous evening that might have caused such distress.

"Yes, yes, it's my fault. I'll take care of it immediately. I'll have the kitchen review yesterday's meals," Butler Chu responded, momentarily taken aback before quickly grasping the situation. He surmised that the kitchen must have been negligent, serving something unclean and causing the young master's stomach upset, hence the premature need for the restroom.

Without further ado, Butler Chu bowed and gestured toward the kitchen, subtly shifting the blame for the young master's discomfort onto them and fulfilling his role as a "competent" minion.

Outside the archway, two young maids caught the signal and sprang into action.