Chapter 8: The Wang Family

Wang Keyue heard a voice and slowly opened her eyes, only to see an elderly woman, who appeared to be about fifty years old, gently calling her “Yue’er, my child…” Was this old woman calling her? Hearing the word “child,” Wang Keyue couldn’t help but think of the soldier who had saved her life in that other world. She wondered if her sudden disappearance had frightened him out of his wits, and whether he was safe.

“Yue’er, my child…” the old woman called softly again.

Wang Keyue naturally received the original owner’s memories in her mind. This kindly-faced old woman was her grandmother, once a lady of the first rank, now just an ordinary old woman, her face lined with exhaustion, but her eyes brimming with concern.

“Grandmother, there’s no need to worry. I am fine now,” Wang Keyue replied, regaining her composure and answering in the original Wang Yue’er’s polite manner.

“Our Yue’er is blessed with great fortune. Madam, you can rest assured,” a woman in her thirties stepped forward to comfort her. This woman was tall, with an oval face and slightly upturned brows and eyes that added a touch of charm to her appearance. Yet her voice was bright and open, straightforward and unreserved.

Wang Keyue knew this was Madam Jiang, the second wife in the family, mother of a son and a daughter. Because her son had gone to train with the eldest uncle’s army earlier that year, the second branch remained intact; apart from a few minor illegitimate sons who were executed, not a single member was lost.

“Hmph! Easy to talk when you’re not the one suffering!” sneered Madam Liu, the wife of the third branch, her eyes red with anger.

She hated the first and second branches bitterly, because most of the executed male members came from the third branch: the third master, the eldest legitimate son, the second legitimate son, and several illegitimate sons.

Now, apart from an infant illegitimate son still in swaddling clothes, no man of the third branch survived. This loss had turned Madam Liu’s hair white overnight. She had even intended to hang herself, but in the depths of the night she dreamed of the third master, who yelled at her to protect the last son of the third branch or he would drag her to hell after death. Liu was not afraid to die, but she was terrified of hell.

So, the next day, Liu took the swaddled baby from a maid and reluctantly raised him as her own, though she could never truly accept him in her heart.

As Wang Keyue sat on a bed of dry leaves, sipping at a thin gruel, she quietly sorted through these tangled family relationships in her mind.

“Eat properly, don’t make a mess,” the old madam chided, her brow furrowing.

“It’s a bit hot!” Wang Keyue forced a laugh, a shadow crossing her face as she obediently resumed her refined manner.

The corner of her mouth twitched. What was with this old lady, always nitpicking? One day, she thought, I’ll teach you to dance in the square under the open sky, like the grandmas in the city parks!

After finishing her gruel, night had fallen. The setting sun cast long shadows over the wild, overgrown hollow in the mountains. A cold autumn wind swept through, making everyone shiver.

A large group of women, used to lives of comfort and ease, had found the past few days to be a living nightmare. Huddled around a few campfires for warmth, their thin autumn clothes were clearly no match for the chill of night.

It was only early autumn, and already so cold. In another ten days, Wang Keyue could only imagine how frigid the northwestern frontier would become. She shivered involuntarily. She needed to come up with a plan. Her gaze grew deep and pensive.

As darkness crept in, Wang Keyue nestled beside the old madam, with her second aunt lying nearby. Her eyelids grew heavy and drooped uncontrollably. Suddenly, a rustling sound came from not far away.

Wang Keyue snapped awake, listening closely. Soon she heard the hurried, intimate breathing of a man and a woman. A faint smirk played on her lips. In the two years she’d survived the apocalypse, such things had become all too common. She never expected to encounter them again in the ancient world—what a twist of fate!

But thinking it over, in chaotic times like these, it was hardly unusual for guards escorting female prisoners to take indecent liberties along the way.

“Yue’er, don’t listen. It’s not for your ears,” the old madam said, reaching out to cover Wang Keyue’s ears. Clearly, she had anticipated this sort of thing might happen.

After a while, the sounds finally ceased. Then, after a short silence, a figure quietly approached. It was Zhang Momo, the maid who usually attended the old madam. She crept softly to the old madam’s side and whispered something in her ear.