Chapter 1 – The Beginning of the Transmigration.
In the midst of a wave of dizziness, Yang Wendong vaguely felt as though two people were whispering near his ear:
"Yiyi, you should go get some rest. It's already 2 a.m."
"It's fine, I'm not sleepy. Brother Dong's fever is still too high—I have to keep using this wet towel to cool him down."
"But if you keep taking care of him like this, your own health will suffer. And this illness is contagious, isn't it?"
"Mom, I'm fine. I'm still young. You're the one who should stay farther away."
"Contagious? And I'm sick too? No wonder I feel so dizzy…"
In a daze, Yang Wendong drifted back into unconsciousness. He didn't know how much time passed, but eventually he began to feel like he had regained some control over his body.
At that moment, an overwhelming flood of memories surged into his mind.
He had transmigrated—into January 1958, to Hong Kong!
Just like his original self, the body he now inhabited was also named Yang Wendong, a young man living in a "shack house" in Hong Kong. Born in 1941, he was now eighteen years old by the traditional reckoning.
At this moment, he lay on a rock-hard wooden bed, a warm towel placed over his forehead. Next to him, a girl had fallen asleep leaning against the side of the bed.
From the inherited memories, he knew her name: Su Yiyi.
Creak~~
The wooden bed was frail. Wendong had only shifted slightly due to discomfort in his back, and already the planks groaned loudly.
"Brother Dong, you're awake?"
Su Yiyi, who had just been resting her head by the bed, shot up like a startled rabbit and immediately noticed that Yang Wendong had opened his eyes.
"I'm awake," Wendong replied with a faint smile, though he felt weak all over.
From his inherited memories, he knew that he had caught the flu.
Su Yiyi quickly stood up, flipped the towel on his forehead to the cooler side, touched his neck, and said, "Brother Dong, your fever was terrifyingly high last night. I was so scared. But at least now your temperature has gone down."
"I should be fine now," Wendong said with a reassuring smile.
"I'll go call Mom. She made some food for you."
"Okay," he replied softly.
Not long after, a weathered middle-aged woman came over. "Dongzai, are you alright now?"
"Much better, Auntie Guo," Wendong replied with a faint smile.
Auntie Guo held a bowl in her hands. "There's an egg in here—your favorite."
"Thank you." Wendong was truly grateful, and the emotions of his body's original owner blended naturally with his own.
Auntie Guo wasn't a direct relative, but she was the one who had raised him.
His parents had once been close with the Su family. During the war, they joined the army to resist the Japanese invasion and were never heard from again—presumed dead.
Auntie Guo had fled with her two children to Hong Kong. But it was too difficult for a single woman to raise two kids. They had survived on a sparse diet, barely getting by.
Only in the past two years, when Wendong had matured, had life slightly improved.
"No need to thank me, silly child," Auntie Guo said with a faint smile. "I even bought half a chicken. Yiyi, cook it tonight."
"Okay, Mom," Su Yiyi agreed obediently.
"I have to go to work. Yiyi, take care of your Brother Dong."
"Alright," Su Yiyi nodded again.
After eating the egg, Wendong felt warmth spreading in his stomach. It had been a long time since the original owner had eaten any meat.
This also sparked a sense of urgency in him—they were too poor.
They were currently living in a shack settlement in Hong Kong, a slum built by refugees using planks of scrap wood.
Heavy rain, mosquitoes, fires, water shortages, disease outbreaks, violence, and poverty—all of these were constant threats in this place.
"Brother Dong," Su Yiyi suddenly called out, "I'm going back to work now. You rest."
"Okay," Wendong replied smoothly.
Through the narrow door, he saw Su Yiyi working on embroidery. It was common for women in the shack settlements to do this—it allowed them to work while staying home to care for family, without having to go to a factory.
But the work severely damaged their eyes. Many women became severely nearsighted—or even blind—by their 30s or 40s.
I need to find a way to make money—fast, Wendong thought.
He was so desperate to escape the shack settlement that he would even consider selling himself if it meant getting out.
"Should I write novels?" He quickly thought of the common transmigration-novel trope from his past life. Though cliché, it didn't require much startup capital.
But he quickly dismissed the idea. He didn't even have pen and paper. While he could read traditional characters, writing them would take time to get used to.
Besides, he didn't have the literary skill. Even if he remembered some plotlines from Jin Yong's novels, anything he tried to write probably wouldn't be worth reading. Even the most basic web novels of his past life weren't easy to write.
He thought about other rags-to-riches tropes from online stories but found none that suited his current situation.
Eventually, when he felt better, he got out of bed.
Hearing the noise, Su Yiyi said, "Brother Dong, why are you up?"
"My back hurts from lying too long," he replied.
It was true—the beds in shack houses were made of wooden planks and weren't even flat. Blankets? Forget it. In winter, they just bundled up in clothes. Thankfully, Hong Kong winters weren't usually fatal.
"Oh," Su Yiyi said, "Li Ming was here earlier. I thought you were sleeping. I'll go get him."
"Sure," Wendong said in surprise. "Didn't he go to work at the dock?"
"I don't know," Su Yiyi replied as she set down her embroidery and walked east. A while later, she returned with someone.
"Brother Dong, you're better now?"
"More or less," Wendong smiled. "Why are you back?"
Zhao Liming sighed, "The docks suddenly cut workers again. I got sent home. No work again."
"Let's keep looking," Wendong patted his friend on the shoulder. "We'll figure it out."
Without a better way to earn money, he could only look for odd jobs to support himself.
But in this era, jobs were scarce. Even labor gigs weren't guaranteed. They were lucky to get three or four days of work in ten.
"I'm going to make dinner," Su Yiyi said from the side. "Liming, stay and eat with us tonight."
"No, no," Zhao Liming shook his head. "I already ate lunch. I'll skip dinner and save food."
"At least have a bun. I'm making braised chicken for Brother Dong—you can have some broth," Su Yiyi said with a smile as she walked into their makeshift kitchen.
Zhao Liming grinned. "Brother Dong, looks like I'm mooching off you today."
"No need to be polite," Wendong chuckled. In shack settlements, eating meat was a rare treat.
Suddenly—
"Aah!" Su Yiyi screamed from inside.
"What's wrong?" Wendong and Zhao Liming rushed in and found Su Yiyi nearly in tears, holding the chicken.
"A rat bit the meat…"
"A rat?" Wendong's expression darkened.
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