Chapter 1

Chapter 1

It was early autumn, and the sun beat down relentlessly.

From outside the dilapidated thatched cottage, the nagging voice of an old woman drifted in.

“All day long, it’s either crying or eating. I can’t rely on either of you for a single thing.”

“Your mother nearly drowned herself doing laundry—that’s how useless she is! I truly regret letting you stay.”

The scolding penetrated the dim, cramped interior of the cottage.

The thatched hut was small. Besides common farm tools, a thick layer of straw covered the floor, topped with a mat. On the mat lay a woman in her early twenties.

The woman was sallow and emaciated, her eyes hollow and vacant, as if she couldn't hear the nagging from outside.

Lu Yuan had lain there for two days without food or water, almost beyond the sensation of hunger, her eyes wide open, staring at the thatched roof above.

She couldn't fathom it. She had merely stumbled while dodging a reckless e-scooter, at most scraping her knee. How had she ended up time-traveling?

When Lu Yuan awoke two days prior, she was soaked to the bone, utterly drained of strength, and suffering from an intermittent low-grade fever.

During a brief moment of lucidity, she saw an old woman with white hair changing her clothes, muttering incessantly, seemingly cursing or scolding.

Lu Yuan initially thought she was delirious from the fever and didn't dwell on it. But as she gradually regained full consciousness, she realized it wasn't delirium at all—she had truly crossed over.

Over the past two days, fragmented memories, not her own, had surfaced in her mind.

She had transmigrated, becoming someone else.

She had become a young widow, her husband gone, fleeing famine with two children.

In the widow's memories, her hometown was ravaged by drought. Two villages had clashed violently over water, and her husband had been accidentally killed in the skirmish.

Because she had given birth to two daughters and was an orphan with no family to rely on, her husband's relatives had seized their property shortly after his death, driving the mother and her two daughters out.

Amidst the drought, the widow could no longer survive and had fled with her children.

Half a month earlier, the widow and her two children, fleeing famine, arrived at Weishan Village. On the brink of starvation, they were saved by an old woman.

The old woman incessantly nagging outside was the very person who had taken in the mother and her children.

The old woman's surname was He, and everyone called her Old Lady He.

Times were tough for everyone, and Old Lady He hadn't taken in three extra mouths out of sheer kindness. Her motives for offering shelter were far from selfless.

Old Lady He had a grandson, her only kin, but he had recently suffered an accident and fallen into an unresponsive coma, a living dead.

Perhaps having learned from a doctor that her grandson could still father children, Old Lady He had taken in the widow and her daughters, hoping the widow would bear a child for her grandson to continue the family line.

Procreation required cooperation between a man and a woman, but the man was in a coma, meaning the woman would have to take the initiative. No respectable, unmarried young woman would agree to such an arrangement.

Unmarried women were unwilling and lacked experience. A widow who had already borne children would be more experienced and less inhibited.

Thus, when Old Lady He saw the widow fleeing with her children, she knew she had found her candidate.

Old Lady He needed someone to carry on the family line, and the widow needed a place to stay. The two had quickly reached a mutual agreement.

Lu Yuan thought they might have agreed easily, but she was unwilling.

Moreover, while the widow had experience, she herself had none—no experience bearing children, and certainly no experience sleeping with a man, let alone a comatose one.

Suddenly, children's cries erupted from outside, repeatedly calling, “Mom!”

Perhaps due to the original owner’s lingering maternal instincts, Lu Yuan reacted instinctively, bolting upright.

After sitting up, she froze for a moment, then covered her eyes.

What kind of predicament was this?

Had Heaven taken pity on the grandmother and grandson, randomly plucking someone from the modern nursing industry to cross over and care for the comatose grandson?

And as a nurse in a hospital, had she become the unlucky one chosen?

Otherwise, with her stable life and loving parents, how could it be such a coincidence that she was the one who had crossed over?

As Lu Yuan wrestled with these thoughts, the bamboo door of the cottage was suddenly pushed open. She glanced toward the entrance.

A small figure stood in the doorway, silhouetted against the light, making it hard to discern the face.

The child slowly walked over to Lu Yuan with a bowl of water, saying in a tiny voice, “Mom, drink some water.”

Even after being called “Mom” for two days, Lu Yuan still couldn’t adapt. She hesitated for a moment before stiffly accepting the bowl.

After drinking some water to moisten her throat, Lu Yuan turned to look at the child in front of her.

It was a little girl who looked three or four years old but was actually five.

This was the widow’s eldest daughter, Chun Hua.

Chun Hua’s hair was dry and yellowish, tied into two sparse little buns with cloth strips.

In the scorching autumn heat, her cheeks and lips were chapped and peeling.

As for the child’s clothes, they were not only too short at the sleeves and pants but also covered in patches, with the cuffs and collar severely worn out.

On her feet, she wore a pair of crude straw sandals, revealing toes caked with mud.

Just as Lu Yuan was about to finish the water in the bowl, the half-open bamboo door was suddenly pushed wider.

An elderly woman in her fifties or sixties appeared at the door and said sharply, “You’ve been resting for two days already. Do you expect me, an old woman, to take care of you and your children?”

“If you’re better, get up and start cooking!”

This old woman was Old Lady He, who had taken in the widow.

Old Lady He had a wrinkled face, her hair neatly tied into a bun. She wore clean clothes with only two or three patches.

Though she looked kind, her tone and attitude were anything but gentle.

Then, Old Lady He shoved a small bundle into Lu Yuan’s arms, startling her.

Looking closely, it wasn’t a bundle but an even smaller child.

After handing over the child, Old Lady He turned and left.

Staring wide-eyed at the child in her arms, Lu Yuan, now an instant mother, was at a loss for words.

This child was even more undernourished than Chun Hua.

She seemed to be two years old but looked as if she hadn’t even reached her first birthday.

She was so thin that her bones were visible, making her eyes appear unnaturally large.

She had just been crying—her eyes were red and swollen, with tears still clinging to the corners as she gazed pleadingly at her.

This was the widow’s young daughter, Qiu Hua.

Little Qiu Hua opened her mouth and mumbled incoherently, "Mommy, hungry, hungry."

Mentioning hunger, Lu Yuan, who hadn’t eaten for two days, was hit by a wave of hunger. In an instant, she felt dizzy and lightheaded. Despite it being the hot autumn season, she was shivering from the cold of hunger.

If she wanted to survive, she couldn’t keep lying there any longer.

Lu Yuan placed the child on the mat, braced herself against a wooden post, and stood up before stepping outside.

The sunlight outside was harsh. She raised her hand to shield her eyes from the intense sun, and after a moment, her vision gradually cleared.

In front of her stood a small courtyard enclosed by a fence, with two ramshackle thatched huts standing side by side. The walls were so weathered and fragile that it seemed a strong kick could easily knock them down.

Aside from the two adjacent huts, there were three other small thatched huts scattered around the yard.

One was the hut Lu Yuan had just exited, which also served as a storage room.

The others were a kitchen and an outhouse.

A small vegetable patch occupied the center of the yard, and two hens were pecking at the ground. In the distance, footpaths crisscrossed the rice paddies, and beyond them were endless green hills.

Lu Yuan spaced out for a moment when she heard Old Lady He’s sharp voice again.

"Why aren't you getting started on cooking? What are you standing around for?!"

Lu Yuan snapped out of it, scanned the yard, and walked toward the kitchen.

The kitchen was simple—one corner for firewood, another for the stove.

On the stove was a brazier, simmering with porridge that smelled fragrant.

Lu Yuan’s eyes shifted and noticed half a bowl of yellowish flour on the stove.

She pinched some between her fingers and brought it to her nose to smell.

This was no flour at all—it was rice bran.

Come to think of it, the widow had even dug up roots to eat before, so having rice bran to eat now was already an improvement.

A basket hung on the wall, containing a handful of wild vegetables—purslane.

Lu Yuan lifted the lid of the clay pot and saw the thick rice porridge; she couldn’t help but swallow hard.

Even though she was starving, she didn’t dare to touch the porridge.

This porridge wasn’t even eaten by Old Lady He; it was prepared for the comatose grandson.

In this era, there was no such thing as IV nutrients. If a comatose person didn’t eat, they wouldn’t survive.

Lu Yuan turned to look outside. Old Lady He had, at some point, moved a stool to the kitchen entrance and was sitting there doing needlework.

So that’s why Old Lady He was sitting at the kitchen door doing needlework—she was making sure Lu Yuan didn’t steal food.

This thick rice porridge was meant to last the grandson two meals. Only occasionally, when Qiu Hua was too weak to eat anything, was she allowed a few spoonfuls.

Fighting the urge to take a sip, Lu Yuan put the lid back on and turned her attention to cooking.

The rice bran was too coarse and had to be boiled soft before it could be made into cakes.

She added a scant half-bowl of water to the pot and poured in all the rice bran to cook.

Next was the issue of starting the fire.

Fortunately, there were still some live embers in the brazier. She fed the embers into the stove, and it soon took.

While cooking the rice bran, Lu Yuan glanced at the old lady at the kitchen door.

Just what kind of person was Old Lady He?

Based on the widow’s memories and her own impressions of the old lady, it was difficult to judge.

Taking in the widow and her kids was a kind act, but her motives weren’t pure.

Although her motives weren’t pure, she didn’t force them to stay—they could leave anytime. But where could the widow go with two children in tow?

The widow and her children had been driven out and had no travel permit.

A travel permit was like a pass.

Without one, they were basically considered illegal residents and had to hide constantly.

In the widow’s memories, she had sneaked onto a boat with her children to reach Cangwu County in Lingnan.

With no money, they stayed in a rundown temple and were nearly assaulted by an old beggar.

The legal system was rudimentary, and dangers lurked everywhere.

Lu Yuan felt she might not be as brave as the widow, who had managed to survive for so long. Moreover, with no money, it would be difficult to carve out a living for herself.

She was still disoriented and decided it was better to be practical and not rush to pick a fight with the old woman. She needed time to adjust.

As the fire gradually grew stronger, Lu Yuan focused on cooking.

She added a handful of firewood to the stove, took down the purslane hanging on the wall, washed it, picked the tender parts, and chopped them up.

Once the rice bran was soft and cooked, she scooped it into a bowl. When it had cooled to a suitable temperature, she mixed in the wild vegetables.

She looked around but found no seasonings.

Then she remembered: the small amount of salt and drop of rapeseed oil were hidden by Old Lady He and could only be used every few days.

Since they weren’t out now, she wasn’t allowed to use them.

Lu Yuan sighed.

What a harsh life this was.

She was desperately hungry but had no time for self-pity. She needed to finish cooking quickly.

After mixing the rice bran and wild vegetables, Lu Yuan shaped them into round cakes and fried them in the hot pan.

Without oil, the flatbreads didn't turn out well—some stuck to the pan, and some were burnt black.

Still, they were edible.

As she smelled the faint aroma of toasted rice bran mixed with the scent of scorching, Lu Yuan grew even hungrier.

She made seven flatbreads, each about the size of a child’s palm.

She placed the flatbreads in a bowl, then boiled water to make purslane soup.

It didn’t take long for the soup to be ready. She ladled it into bowls and brought them one by one to the table outside.

When Old Lady He saw the foraged greens soup, her face instantly darkened. Her tone was harsh: "If we eat all the wild vegetables now, what will we have for dinner? You’re wasting both vegetables and firewood—how can we keep using things up like this?"

Lu Yuan listened silently and didn’t respond.

She turned her gaze toward the storage room and saw the two children standing just outside the door, gazing at the food on the table with longing, their eyes filled with hunger.

Lu Yuan’s heart sank with bitterness and uncertainty about the future.

Could she really survive in this ancient era—where people never had enough to eat or wear, dangers lurked everywhere, and society was strictly hierarchical?