“I want to go home!!!” the woman screamed that line, crying until her voice went completely hoarse, her lungs trembling and tearing, releasing a hollow, agonized echo.
Empathy was a terrifying thing.
Xia Qing and Yu Muyang were utterly shaken. That immense, unbearable unease transformed into fear, crawling up from their toes to stroke their arms.
Xia Qing’s hairs stood on end as she hugged her own arms. Yu Muyang stumbled back a step in shock.
The woman dashed away madly, sobbing as if consumed by grievance, like a child desperate to run home and pour out her sorrows to her parents.
“I want to go home. Dad, Mom…” Her voice shuddered with each sprint, quavering step by step.
She kept running forward without aim, overwhelmed by the surging longing in her heart, driven purely by emotion.
Until she spotted that tall, straight pine tree.
It was a thousand-year-old pine, its tough, dark-brown bark like stone. Its branches spread out on both sides, waiting there in the twilight, opening a gigantic embrace.
That embrace carried a sweet temptation.
The woman’s objective suddenly crystallized. Her expression turned utterly crazed as she charged at the pine tree.
She wanted to throw herself into its embrace, to melt her flesh and blood into its branches.
At that very moment, someone burst out from the side, intercepting her path. A massive figure wrapped her in his arms, halting her steps.
Zhao Penglai arrived beside Xia Qing and Yu Muyang, gasping for breath. The two had barely regained their senses and looked toward Xu Yin, who had stopped the woman.
Only then did Xia Qing and Yu Muyang belatedly realize the woman had been trying to end her life. Even if, scientifically speaking, ramming into a tree wouldn’t necessarily kill her, her determination for death was something Xia Qing and Yu Muyang had genuinely felt. A chill climbed up their spines and seeped into their brains, making them shudder uncontrollably.
The woman sobbed in Xu Yin’s arms, struggling fiercely, scratching and biting him, but unable to break free.
The pine’s outstretched arms seemed to droop, taking on a disappointed posture. Its figure receded step by step, becoming distant and unreachable.
The woman grew terrified and desperate, frantically reaching out toward that pine tree.
Her crying turned sharply shrill, degenerating into meaningless wails. Something seemed to be struggling to break free from her body.
Everyone could vividly sense the woman’s reason burning away. The thread in her mind was stretched to its absolute limit, beginning to fray. Only a single thin strand remained connected at the center.
The woman’s breakdown spread like a plague. Xia Qing covered her ears, tears uncontrollably spilling from her eyes. She stomped her feet in fear. Yu Muyang’s face was pale. Zhao Penglai stood rooted in shock. Xu Yin’s heavy brows were deeply furrowed, his expression filled with pain.
Yunxiu had noticed the abnormal situation from afar long ago. She called Li Cunxin and Yan Baiyu, and they hurried over. Before they even got close, that bitter, throat-stinging atmosphere had already spread.
Yunxiu didn’t know what to do either.
How were they supposed to comfort her? How were they to soothe her? They themselves were still struggling amidst this suffering.
Li Cunxin stepped past everyone. Crushed stone ground with a soft crunch beneath her feet. She walked straight toward the woman, her steps so steady, her speed so swift.
She halted in front of Xu Yin and the woman. Her silhouette seemed to overshadow even the pine tree.
The instant she stopped before the two, she raised her hand and delivered a slap.
The motion was swift and abrupt, without any hesitation or pause, thrown out so decisively that everyone failed to react in time.
The thwack was resoundingly loud, abruptly cutting off the woman’s manic howling and halting the spreading anguish.
Everyone lifted their eyes, their gazes widening with shock, all of them frozen in place.
“You think dying will send you back?” Li Cunxin was fierce and stern, her lowered hand trembling.
The woman looked up in a daze. Half her face quickly swelled. The stinging, distending pain stimulated her numb emotions.
No one had ever seen Li Cunxin with such a harsh and terrifying expression. They couldn’t help but hold their breath.
Li Cunxin’s throat caught on the thin, cool night air, making her breaths uneven. “You’d only struggle in severe pain, turning yourself into a heap of rotten flesh!”
The woman’s body shuddered.
In the weeds on the ground grew a carpet of speedwell, spreading flat like a blanket. It grew tenaciously, reproducing vigorously, its stems and leaves unfurling tiny blue-violet flowers.
Li Cunxin half-knelt in front of the woman and pressed her hand against the woman’s swollen cheek. “Does it hurt? Good that it hurts.”
The woman said nothing, staring fixedly at Li Cunxin. Her tears just flowed, and a whimpering sound, like a small trapped animal, escaped her throat.
“Death is very painful.” Li Cunxin’s voice was gentle as she narrated this fact. “You’re still alive. You must live well.”
Xu Yin felt the woman no longer struggle. He gradually released her.
Li Cunxin used the edge of her palm to wipe away the woman’s tears. “Living isn’t scary. Don’t be afraid. From now on, we are your father, your mother, your brothers, your sisters.”
Li Cunxin embraced the woman and gently patted her back, as if soothing someone who couldn’t catch their breath.
The woman’s voice seemed to break free from a set of shackles, trickling out gently like a small, smooth stream, without that hair-raising howl anymore. Her weeping became clear and ringing.
The woman clutched Li Cunxin’s clothing. “It hurts so much, it hurts so much…”
Xu Yin gave a helpless sigh. He placed his broad hands on their shoulders, patting in consolation. Yan Baiyu, who had just approached, was silent. She laid a hand down and stroked the woman’s head like a gentle caress. Xia Qing, swept up by the moment, rushed over and hugged them like a pile of people stacking up.
The last trace of the high summer’s swelter was suppressed by the night.
The woman’s emotions descended from high to low, and so did her physical strength—from impassioned tragic singing to intermittent sobs.
By now it was so dark that they could only see indistinct silhouettes.
Yunxiu caught a burnt smell on the night breeze. Her mind went blank for a moment before she jumped up, crying, “Oh no, my goose!” Gripping her spatula, she hurriedly ran back.
“Let’s head back,” someone said.
“Let’s head back,” echoed the others.
Li Cunxin helped the woman up. Xu Yin and Yan Baiyu walked beside them. Yu Muyang led the way, occasionally lifting a foot and bending a finger to flick away an insect on his leg. Xia Qing glanced back with every couple of steps. Zhao Penglai picked up the willow branches thrown on the ground and followed the group.
Yunxiu had stewed the goose with water caltrops and radishes, a full pot. Fortunately, only the bottom layer had scorched. After some salvaging, it still filled three clay pots.
Everyone lit candles and sat around the table, packing the room to the brim.
The fragrance of food wreathed over the warm candlelight. The woman’s eyes shimmered with light. Never before had she felt so ravenous.
Everyone took care of her feelings, as if fulfilling Li Cunxin’s words about “being your father, mother, brothers, and sisters,” piling food into her bowl, even giving her the goose leg.
It wasn’t every meal that they had meat, and when they did, it was mostly fish. Goose meat was the first they’d had since arriving in this world. The mere fact of it being “meat” was enough to make their mouths water.
This goose was also plump and fatty. A layer of golden oil floated atop the soup. The goose meat had absorbed the broth to the full. Biting into it, hot meat juices burst out. The meat was neither dry nor greasy, perfectly savory, and most importantly, each piece was thick and large, enough to stuff their mouths full along with the rice.
The water caltrops were cooked to a soft, starchy texture, similar to potatoes and chestnuts, absorbing the oil and the umami of the goose broth. Their flavor was not inferior to the meat.
Their memories of the various food flavors from the original world had blurred. Even though they knew Yunxiu lacked seasonings and hadn’t prepared the goose in fancy ways, they still felt this was the most delicious goose meat they’d ever eaten.
Yu Muyang ate like a bulldozer. Xia Qing said, “Were you a starving ghost in a past life?”
Yu Muyang retorted, “Why are you only picking on me? Uncle Xu already finished his second bowl.”
Xia Qing said, “Uncle Xu is at least so much bigger. And you—why do you only eat but never put on any meat?”
Yu Muyang had actually filled out a bit since arriving, but compared to his frame, his flesh still looked thin.
Brazenly, Yu Muyang grinned at Li Cunxin and said, “If we had goose meat every day, I guarantee by the end of the year I’d be as sturdy as Uncle Xu.”
Yunxiu laughed and scolded, “You wish.”
Li Cunxin grew thoughtful, seriously calculating. She said, “That’s not entirely impossible.”
The people at the table were taken aback. Yu Muyang had only been joking—everyone understood that. They hadn’t expected Li Cunxin to seem serious about it.
Yu Muyang’s eyes shone. “Village Chief, I was just saying that. You’re not joking too, are you?”
Li Cunxin said matter-of-factly, “Baiyu’s talent is Domestication. Although it’s not Livestock Farming, some principles overlap. She can take charge of animal husbandry.”
Li Cunxin had actually pondered this issue long ago. After all, agriculture and livestock went hand in hand. Currently, the fields had high fertility and required little base or top dressing, but after long-term planting, fertilization would eventually be needed. Crop residue could feed livestock, and livestock manure could fertilize crops—that was a virtuous cycle.
Xia Qing’s voice floated up, “Chickens lay eggs, eggs hatch into chickens!”
No one doubted Yan Baiyu’s ability. After all, the rabbit hutch had another litter. In their minds, they couldn’t help but picture flocks of chickens, ducks, and geese, and pens full of pigs, cattle, and sheep.
Yan Baiyu smiled as she rained on their parade. “That’s the idea, but a clever housewife can’t cook without rice. We have neither eggs nor chickens. How are they supposed to multiply?”
The ears that had been perking up on everyone’s heads drooped back down.
Li Cunxin said, “One must still have beautiful dreams.”
Xu Yin’s thick, reassuring voice rumbled, “That’s not a problem. When I have free time later, I’ll go out scouting. Eggs, chickens—I’ll catch them all for you.”
Yan Baiyu smiled slightly. “Then I’ll be waiting.”
As the table chatted about talents, their gazes involuntarily drifted toward the woman sitting next to Li Cunxin. She sat there, appearing very obedient and quiet, eating her meal silently by herself.
Everyone began to wonder what talent this person would possess. Their hearts felt the same unease as before opening a mystery box.
Yet, out of consideration for her emotional and mental state, no one dared ask outright.
One by one, they hinted with their eyes, each signaling the other, until finally, all gazes landed on Li Cunxin.
Li Cunxin wasn’t in a hurry to learn of the woman’s talent. She felt the time wasn’t right yet. Only near the end of dinner did she ask for the woman’s name.
Liu Cuo Jin.
