After listening to the old woman’s explanation, Yun Xi finally grasped the basics of her new circumstances.
This country was called Fengli Kingdom, and the reigning emperor was the second monarch of the Feng family line. The village she lived in was named Yun Village, home to more than fifty households, all sharing the surname Yun.
Her father was Yun Dahai, the village chief. Her mother, originally surnamed Li, was from another village and was widely known as Madam Yun. Yun Xi had no siblings—she was the cherished only child, only seven years old in this life.
Yun Village was in a remote location. The nearest market was a full day’s walk away. The villagers had farmed for generations, but this year had been especially harsh. A severe drought left them with no harvest at all. Several villagers had already starved to death. Even the original owner of this body had fallen sick from hunger, allowing her soul to slip in and take over.
“Um… Mother, where did Father go?”
Calling her “Mother” felt less strange now after a few attempts. And the way Madam Yun looked at her—with such warmth and tenderness—made her heart tighten. She wanted to confess that she wasn’t truly her daughter, but she simply couldn’t bring herself to hurt the elderly woman.
“He went out with the young men to look for food. Heaven really isn’t giving us a path to live. Thankfully you survived—if anything happened to you, how would I go on?”
“Mother, doesn’t the village have any spare grain?”
Coming from modern times, Yun Xi had never encountered real starvation. As an agricultural expert who spent her life studying crop growth, seeing such a real-life case stirred her curiosity.
“Sigh… The past few years hadn’t been good either. We barely had enough to feed ourselves. No one had extra grain. And with no harvest this year, people are starving to death.”
“Then what do we do now? We can’t possibly wait until next year’s harvest. That’s more than half a year away.”
“What can we do? Who knows how many more will starve…”
Madam Yun wiped away her tears as she spoke.
“Ah… Mother, don’t cry. Once I get better, maybe I can think of a solution.”
Yun Xi was inexperienced in dealing with elders—her childhood was spent mostly alone and distant from family—so she panicked a little seeing the older woman cry.
“Silly girl, you’re talking nonsense again. What can a child like you do? Grown-ups will handle these things. Just focus on healing.”
“Oh, right, Mother. You said every household keeps seeds for next year?” Yun Xi asked suddenly.
“Yes. How else will we plant next spring? Why do you ask?”
“Mother, you need to tell Father to gather everyone. They must collect all the seed grain and store it together. And someone has to guard it. Otherwise, when things get worse, people will eat the seeds. Then there will be no hope left.”
“Yes, yes, you’re right! I’ll tell your father later. Eh? But how come you seem more sensible after just one illness? You never understood these things before.”
Madam Yun murmured in puzzlement.
“Mother, I’ve died once—you think I wouldn’t understand more now?”
Yun Xi hinted lightly at the body’s previous death.
“You child, what nonsense! Bah bah bah, don’t speak of death! As long as I’m here, you won’t starve.”
“Hehe, just joking. I won’t say it again, don’t be upset.”
Remembering how superstitious ancient people tended to be about life and death, Yun Xi stuck out her tongue playfully and dropped the subject.