It was just idle speculation—he had grown bored enough to spend his days thinking of food and entertainment.

As for grander plans, such as spending decades developing firearms and laying the groundwork for an industrial revolution, or leading a rebellion to become emperor and pave the way for future generations to fly in airplanes—those thoughts were ridiculous. He wouldn’t live long enough to enjoy the benefits. Starting a restaurant or an entertainment club seemed far more meaningful.

The morning breeze was cool as he stood by the stone embankment, tossing stones into the river and contemplating these ideas.

For now, none of these plans were feasible.

As a son-in-law of the Su family, opening a brothel was out of the question—it could wait. The Su family owned a cloth shop, so starting a restaurant might cause complications. Perhaps he could offer the Su family some business ideas first to prove his value... but then, he’d just end up managing the cloth shop, repeating his old life. Eventually, he’d convince them to fund a restaurant, telling them it would be profitable. Then, he’d have to develop new equipment and figure out how to mass-produce everything, just because he missed the tiny amount of MSG added to food. How pointless.

He hummed the melody of "Pirates of the Caribbean" as he stood by the river, amused by his own thoughts. It might not be as difficult as he imagined, but the idea of making MSG from seaweed crystals just seemed ridiculous. Seaweed was easy to find, but conducting such experiments would be seen as wasteful, and someone would probably say, "A gentleman stays far away from the kitchen..."

As he hummed the first part of "Pirates of the Caribbean," the tune faded from his memory, so he transitioned into humming "Are You Sleeping?" instead. Just as he reached the second verse, "Brother John," a strange sound came from behind him.

“ chicky,  chicky,  chicky...”

“Cluck, cluck, cluck...”

Two sounds—one a woman’s voice, the other the frantic clucking of a chicken.

Turning around, he saw through the mist a chicken racing wildly through the trees and along the road. Behind it, a woman in a gray-white dress appeared, clutching a kitchen knife, chasing the chicken with all her might. Both the woman and the chicken darted in and out of the fog, barely visible at times.

Ning Yi leaned against a tree, resting his chin in his hand, watching the spectacle unfold.

In theory, mimicking a chicken's clucking is supposed to calm the bird and make it easier to catch. However, the chicken was clearly terrified, and calling it “ chicky” wasn't going to help. "Even if she called it ‘sister,’ it wouldn't work," Ning Yi thought, smirking.

As he admired the woman's figure in the fog, the chicken suddenly changed direction and bolted straight toward the riverbank. It ran past Ning Yi and, with a leap, dove into the water.

The woman, panicking, chased after it. The dense morning mist concealed Ning Yi, who stood quietly under a tree. The woman didn’t notice him as she swung her kitchen knife down hard, aiming at the chicken. With a “hmph” of exertion, she missed, and the knife flew from her hand, landing in the water with a splash.

Ning Yi was startled by the force of her swing. But before he could react, he saw that the woman had overextended herself and was about to fall into the river. Instinctively, he shouted, “Hey!” and reached out to grab her hand. As she turned, her other hand grasped his. Ning Yi tried to pull her back, but his foot slipped on a loose stone...

“Ah—gulp—”

With a brief cry, they both tumbled into the river, accompanied by a loud splash.

Ning Yi had been a decent swimmer in his previous life, but unfortunately, those skills hadn’t transferred over. The body he now inhabited was weak and frail, having been that of a scholarly man who had little physical strength. While Ning Yi had spent months recovering and training, he was still limited by his physical condition. The woman, it seemed, was no better at swimming, and they both flailed helplessly in the water. Ning Yi tried several times to calm her down, but she kept dragging him under.

“You... gulp...”

“Hey... gulp... gulp...”

“Don’t... gulp... gulp... gulp...”

It’s often said that skilled swimmers drown when they try to rescue panicked people, dragged down by the very ones they are trying to save.

After what felt like an eternity, Ning Yi finally managed to drag the woman to the riverbank. They collapsed on the stone steps, both soaking wet and exhausted. Ning Yi coughed up water and lay there panting, while the woman lay next to him, unconscious.

“Son of a bitch… you live by the Qinhuai River and can’t even swim?”  Ning Yi sighed in frustration.  He then laid the woman flat and began administering first aid, following the steps he had learned before.  (Ning Yi muttered the phrase 'son of a bitch' in English.)

This wasn’t exactly a glamorous task—this was no swimsuit-clad beauty, after all. The woman’s soaked clothes clung to her body, and her hair was a mess, making her look more like a drowned ghost than anything else.

After several compressions, she coughed up water but still didn’t wake. Ning Yi pressed on, eventually resorting to mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. Just as he was about to lean in again—slap! A sharp smack echoed through the morning air.

The woman, her voice trembling with both tears and anger, cried out, “Scoundrel! What are you doing?”

Clutching her chest and scrambling backward, she looked utterly disheveled, her long legs sprawled out on the ground, wet and vulnerable.

If anyone had been passing by, Ning Yi might well have been beaten on the spot.

“I knew this would happen,” Ning Yi muttered to himself, slumping his shoulders and letting out a long sigh. He sat back on the path, utterly defeated.

For a moment, they just stared at each other. Finally, Ning Yi raised his hand. “You’re okay now, right?”

The woman glared at him but didn’t say a word.

“Good,” Ning Yi answered himself, struggling to his feet. “That’s all I needed to know.” He turned and began walking back the way he had come, shivering as the cold wind bit into his wet clothes.

Behind him, the woman sat hunched on the ground, watching as his figure disappeared into the mist.

The woman was truly pitiful—losing both her chicken and her knife. As Ning Yi walked back, soaked to the bone, he couldn’t help but find a bit of schadenfreude in the situation. Walking through the cold wind while wet was miserable, but thinking about how much worse it was for her made his own suffering a little easier to bear.

When it came to small matters, Ning Yi had always had a laid-back attitude. Since he couldn’t change the situation, he might as well find some amusement in it to lift his spirits, even if just for the moment.