Chapter 3

Page (1/3)

Shen Sanliang and his wife were able to lie back down, but in the neighboring Chen family’s courtyard, the elderly Chen couple, light sleepers due to their age, had been awakened by the noise.

Old Chen listened carefully for a moment. Hearing that the knocking on the door still hadn’t stopped, he got up, went to the window, and peered outside.

Chen’s wife half-raised herself and asked, “What’s going on?”

Squinting in the moonlight, Old Chen examined the scene. “That’s little An from the old Shen family. Knocking on the door this late—could something have happened up in the mountains?”

Upon hearing this, Chen’s wife also climbed out of bed and looked out the window. “It really is.”

Seeing that the Shen family hadn’t answered the door for a long time, the old woman’s lips twitched downward. “That couple Shen San and his wife are truly unfortunate. Their eldest nephew was drafted before he came of age and lost his life. The Shen family’s eldest branch now only has these two bloodlines left. And such young children were sent away, just abandoned up in the mountains.”

“That Sang woman is called the sister-in-law, but she’s barely older than little An and Ning. She can’t possibly hold the family together.”

Indeed, she couldn’t. Old Chen thought about the small patch of mountain land the Shen family had allocated to the eldest branch, the little vegetable patch their wife had once given to Sang. Now that entire patch was withered—some plants dead, some lacking nutrients, others ravaged by pests. None were thriving.

No one knew how Li had picked them. Sang simply didn’t know how to manage the fieldwork. With just those three living together, how could they survive?

Chen’s wife turned around, grabbed some clothes, and began dressing. “I’ll go see if it’s really some urgent trouble.”

Old Chen didn’t stop her.

The Chen and Shen families had both fled famine and settled here nine years ago. They didn’t know each other before the exodus but had joined forces halfway through the journey. Besides, the old couple’s eldest grandson had been drafted over two years ago and had yet to return; rumor had it he was in the same regiment as Shen Lie’s child.

One household had lost a brother, the other a grandson. Now, looking at the two children of Shen’s eldest branch in their predicament, whether by sympathy or the pain of shared suffering, their hearts softened.

With no sign of response from the Shen family, the Chen family unlatched their door.

When Shen An heard the movement and turned to look, Old Chen’s wife had opened the courtyard gate and was beckoning him. “Little An, come here.”

Shen An’s anger sank deep into his dantian. He was just about to stir up the villagers to pressure Third Uncle to save face and provide some life-saving food. But hearing Old Chen’s wife call him, that anger suddenly deflated.

His sister-in-law was in a critical state.

He almost ran over, and before the old lady could say a word, he knelt and kowtowed once. “Grandma, my sister-in-law is very ill. Do you have any food? Please give me some; I’ll bring it back to her and make her drink it.”

Thinking back to when he had checked earlier and found his sister-in-law so weak she barely seemed to breathe, tears streamed noisily down Shen An’s face.

Page (2/3)

Their eldest brother was gone, the family split apart. Shen An knew clearly that his sister-in-law was the only person he and his sister could rely on. If she was lost too, he dared not imagine what life would become for just the two of them living in the mountains.

He did not dare hope that Third Uncle and Aunt would take them back home. At best, they might provide a bit of meager food every few days, but how would they survive the winter? Were there beasts in the mountains? What if they fell ill?

As long as his sister-in-law lived, he and his sister could at least hold onto some courage. Without her, he dared not think about the days ahead.

Chen’s wife’s heart sank when she heard Shen An’s words. She quickly asked, “Is she starving?”

Shen An nodded, then shook his head. “She’s hungry, but she seems ill too. She said she’d be fine if she just rested, but she’s been asleep all day and hasn’t woken up. Neither Ning nor I can rouse her.”

Chen’s wife had survived famine. She had seen how people starved or perished from thirst.

Hearing this, she guessed it was severe hunger.

It made sense. Sang had fled hardship too; her health was probably already broken on the journey.

“Wait here. I’ll come with you into the mountains.” Chen’s wife didn’t say more and hurried back inside to fetch some food.

Old Chen had overheard the entire conversation inside and now came out. “I’ll accompany you.”

Seeing his wife go back inside, he thought a moment and added, “Bring some malt sugar.”

Chen’s wife nodded. If she was truly hungry, salt and sugar dissolved in water might help. She turned to ask Shen An, “You have salt at home, right?”

Shen An quickly nodded. “Yes.”

“Good.”

Chen’s wife entered the house, opened the rice container, and measured out a liter of rice. She thought of her eldest grandson, who used to follow Shen Lie around every day. Now, in the blink of an eye, both were gone. Her eyes stung with tears. Gritting her teeth, she measured out another liter, then closed the rice container. She opened a cabinet and took two pieces of malt sugar, treats they usually couldn’t afford to eat, and hurried out.

Old Chen handed his wife a bamboo stick used for cutting grass and grabbed a club himself. They closed the courtyard gate and the three of them hurried into the mountain.

Chen’s wife asked about Shen An’s family situation as they walked, growing more worried for the two young siblings. Shen Lie was gone, Sang was useless in the fields, and the three of them—how were they going to survive?

...

In a grass hut on the mountain, Shen Ning was spooning hot water to her sister-in-law, drop by drop.

Page (3/3)

Sang Luo sipped the water but worried—not about how to survive in the future, but about where she was going to find any food right now.

There was no hope of foraging near their mountain. Unless she ate leaves... yes, the nearby mountains had some edible leaves, but searching through the original owner’s memories, she couldn’t recall where she had seen them.

They couldn’t count on their Third Uncle and Aunt either. It was the middle of the night; even if they lent grain, knowing Li’s usual stinginess, it would only be a meager ration to keep them alive.

She needed to gather strength quickly and go out to find food. Otherwise, not just her but the two children, if they kept living like this, barely getting a meal now and then, their health would surely deteriorate.

If they starved so badly they couldn’t even walk again—especially if all three of them became that weak—Sang Luo felt she might not be so lucky this time. To have been able to transmigrate, to have a kind little girl like Ning go out into the mountain at midnight under the moonlight to find wild fruit and extend her life, and to have a child come into the village and borrow grain to save her.

Thinking this, she lowered her eyes, not daring to meet Shen Ning’s gaze.

Because the person the little siblings wanted to save was already gone. She was just the one with extraordinary luck, inheriting the original owner’s body to continue living.

Just as she lowered her eyes, hurried footsteps came from outside the grass hut, the sound arriving before the person: “A Ning, I got some grain!”

The door was pushed open, and a skinny boy like a stick darted in like a cannonball.

Since it was the young woman’s room deep in the night, Old Chen did not enter but stood outside, while Chen’s wife followed Shen An inside.

At a glance, Chen’s wife cursed Shen Sanliang again in her heart.

Could this be called a house? Even beggars might live better in a ruined temple.

Apart from a narrow bench and a bed frame made of planks, and a few farm tools leaned against the wall, there was no furniture at all.

The stove was built from stones; a cracked earthen pot and three sets of bowls and chopsticks were placed on a small stone slab slightly larger than a small washbasin, saving them from being left on the floor.

And Sang Luo, whom Shen An said was near death, was indeed no better off. She sat on the floor leaning against the wall, needing Shen Ning to feed her water.

Chen’s wife naturally didn’t think Sang Luo had left her good bed in the middle of the night just by choice. Having survived famine and drought, she could guess the situation without asking.

Without delay, she put down the rice sack, glanced at the earthen pot with the little hot water left, and quickly dropped a piece of malt sugar in. She placed the other piece in an empty bowl. Then she noticed a small covered jar by the bowl, opened it, and saw it was about the size of a child’s palm, now just a bit of salt left at the bottom.

She pinched some salt, dissolved it in the water in the pot, and called Shen Ning over. Pouring the salt-and-sugar water into the bowl held by Shen Ning, she said, “Go feed this to your sister-in-law.”