Chapter 1

In the early summer of the eighth year of the Zhenguan era, inside the mansion of Duke Lu in the Tang capital of Chang'an, Cheng Chubì was looking up at the sky, which was free of any smog, at a forty-five-degree angle.

The still refreshing breeze swept over the city of Chang'an, but it did nothing to affect Cheng Chubì's mood as he stood there, lost in thought about the unpredictability of life.

As a key technical staff member of a rural health center, he was enjoying a spicy hot pot when he received a call from a remote village, informing him that an elderly man had broken his leg.

Throwing the medical equipment into the sidecar of the Zongshen motorcycle that was specially assigned to him, he revved the engine, and the three-wheeled motorcycle, with a beautiful tire spin, sped out of the health center, leaving the pretty young nurse who had brought the equipment with stars in her eyes.

However, not even two kilometers out of the health center, just as he was about to turn into a mountain path, he was hit by a large truck with faulty brakes.

When he opened his eyes, he found himself no longer on the familiar rural paths or in the hospital ward filled with the smell of disinfectant. Instead, he was in the mansion of Duke Lu in the Tang capital of Chang'an during the eighth year of the Zhenguan era.

Why did he have to be reincarnated into the family of a notorious warlord and a shameless noble, known for his thick-skinned and unscrupulous ways?

When the neighbors in Chang'an talked about the twenty-four heroes of the Lingyan Pavilion, they would immediately give a thumbs up.

But if you mentioned Cheng Chubì among the twenty-four heroes, they would instantly flip their thumbs down.

"Cherish life, stay away from large trucks." Cheng Chubì's eyes welled up with tears. Goodbye, the comforts of modern life, the electricity, and the telephone. Goodbye, my 5G phone that I just bought with a month's salary.

And my computer, filled with four terabytes of valuable data, and my beloved Cheng's secret hot pot base that I had just prepared and hadn't even had a few meals of yet...

Regardless, being the son of a high-ranking official, such a high starting point did make Cheng Chubì, at first, think about living a life of ease and comfort.

However, the correct values and worldview instilled by nine years of compulsory education, his dedication as a medical worker, his involvement in poverty alleviation efforts, and his exceptional talent as a chef specializing in southern cuisine, made it impossible for him to have such decadent thoughts.

He was in the prosperous Tang Dynasty; how could he be idle? Cheng Chubì began to reflect on himself.

At that moment, a furry face approached, with a pair of curious, large eyes staring at him. Cheng Chubì's face turned dark.

"Second Brother, can you move your face a bit further away?"

Can't you keep your furry face away from me? Do you know that the number of bacteria on a man's beard far exceeds that on a dog's body?

"What are you looking at, Third Brother?" Second Brother Cheng Chuliang lifted his head and looked around.

"What are you two looking at?" Twin Brother Cheng Chumo also came over, instinctively lifting his head to look at the sky. The same furry face, the same curious, large eyes...

Behind them, fourteen-year-old Fourth Brother Cheng Chucun and eleven-year-old Fifth Brother Cheng Chuli also rushed over, lifting their heads in unison.

"..." Cheng Chubì looked at the faces around him, feeling a sudden sense of intellectual superiority.

"What are you looking at, big brothers? Are you looking at birds?" Six-year-old Sixth Brother Cheng Chuxia, who had just stopped wearing diapers a few years ago and was always covered in mud, also appeared...

Seeing this rough and tumble family, Cheng Chubì quietly lowered his head and walked away.

He felt that if he stayed any longer, his intelligence would be dragged down to the same level.

"Third Brother, what were you looking at?" Second Brother Cheng Chuliang still insisted, lifting his head and shouting loudly.

Cheng Chubì sighed softly, ignoring his five brothers. Waving his sleeves, he quietly left, not taking a single cloud with him.

###

In the palace of Chang'an, the fair-skinned and gentle Empress Changsun entered the room and saw her husband, Emperor Li Shimin, looking somewhat serious.

"Second Son, what happened? I just saw Daoist Sun, Daoist Yuan, and the furious Duke Lu leaving the palace."

"Ah, a few days ago, the third son of the Cheng family was drinking with the children of other nobles. He got so drunk that he was unconscious for two days. When he woke up, he didn't recognize anyone."

"Old Cheng invited Doctor Deng from Yongxing Lane to treat Cheng Chubì, but they almost came to blows."

"Almost came to blows?" Empress Changsun's face changed. "Why?"

Emperor Li Shimin spread his hands helplessly.

"Doctor Deng said that the third son of the Cheng family had lost his mind. You know how the Cheng family is. If it weren't for the presence of General Yuchi Gong and General Qin Qiong, there might have been a fight."

Empress Changsun quickly clutched her dress, composing herself to avoid any impropriety before the emperor. "Doctor Deng is a well-known physician in Chang'an. If he says so..."

"That's why Old Cheng came to the palace to ask for Daoist Sun, who treats the emperor, and Daoist Yuan, who is also skilled in medicine, to help."

"Several children of nobles were at that banquet, including Prince Ke. Ah..."

"If Cheng Chubì really can't be cured, I don't know how much of a headache it will be for me." Emperor Li Shimin couldn't help but laugh bitterly.

"Since Daoist Sun and Daoist Yuan are both going, perhaps his illness can be treated..." Empress Changsun said, trying to comfort him, though she was uncertain.

###

Sitting in a carriage, the middle-aged, heavily bearded, and fierce-looking Cheng Yaojin was listening to the elderly Daoist Sun ask.

"Patients with mental disorders often exhibit unusual behavior. Does General Cheng know of any such behavior in his third son?"

"Unusual? Besides not recognizing anyone, there doesn't seem to be anything else." Cheng Yaojin stroked his steel-like beard, looking very troubled.

"Oh, right, today, Third Son refused to use a toilet stick or a cloth when he went to the toilet. He insisted on using paper and said that without paper, the toilet lacks a sense of ceremony."

"Sense of ceremony?" The faces of the two famous Daoists, Sun Simiao and Yuan Tiangang, turned green, barely maintaining their composure.

Using paper, which scholars use to write poetry, to wipe after using the toilet, what kind of sense of ceremony is this...

"Cough, cough... General Cheng, does he have any other unusual behavior?"

Daoist Sun pulled at his white beard, deciding to skip this topic that would be ridiculed by the thousands of literati in Chang'an.

"Nothing else, he doesn't recognize any family members, and he often says things that are incomprehensible."

Yuan Tiangang interjected. "Can you give an example of something he said that you found hard to understand?"

Cheng Yaojin rubbed his beard, sighing. "The first thing he said when he woke up was to ask if I was filming a movie and if he could borrow my 'hand chicken' to call the police..."

"I've hunted birds all my life, but I've never heard of a 'hand chicken.' As for the phone and the police, I was completely confused. But when I asked him, he denied ever saying it."

"..." Yuan Tiangang was bewildered. I've lived for decades and never heard of a 'hand chicken' phone.

He then gave a desperate look to the equally bewildered Sun Simiao.

After a moment of eye contact, the two Daoists understood each other. This third son of the Cheng family, even if not completely mad, must be suffering from some form of mental disorder.

"What are you two Daoists doing, exchanging glances? Can't you speak clearly?"

Cheng Yaojin was not pleased. I invited you to treat my son, not to flirt with each other.

"..." The faces of the two Daoists turned black. But seeing the murderous look on Cheng Yaojin's face, they decided to be cautious.

"General Cheng, please don't speak rashly. I am considering how to approach your son when we meet him."

"Daoist Sun is right. Since he doesn't think he is sick, we must be careful and observe him before making any judgments."

"Very well, I will leave it to you two Daoists. If my son is cured, I will reward you generously." Cheng Yaojin extended his hairy hands and patted the shoulders of the two Daoists heavily.

The solid and heavy force made the faces of the two Daoists pale...

As the carriage stopped in front of the mansion of Duke Lu, Cheng Yaojin saw Yuchi Gong riding up, followed by a carriage pulled by his attendants.

"Old Cheng, I've brought medicine for your third son." The tall, black-faced Yuchi Gong dismounted, raising his hand proudly.

The attendants pulled the carriage to the front, and the two Daoists, who had just gotten off the carriage, shuddered. A full-grown bear and a colorful leopard lay on the carriage.

"Is this medicine?!" Sun Simiao pulled at his white beard, hissing in pain, while Daoist Yuan Tiangang was equally confused.

Standing tall and mighty, Yuchi Gong, who looked like a fierce door god alongside Cheng Yaojin, stroked his beard proudly.

"Of course. When I was escorting Doctor Deng out of Old Cheng's mansion yesterday, I asked if the illness could be treated by using similar parts. The old man said it might work."

"Your third son has a mental disorder, so we should use similar parts. A pot of bear heart and leopard gall will definitely work."

"Hisss..." The two Daoists drew in a sharp breath, their eyes twitching.