Xu Erniang released her foot and turned to pull a small wooden stick from her backpack—carefully hidden away.
This was no ordinary twig. It was the only red cedar branch she’d managed to find in the household firewood pile that could withstand magic power.
Xu Erniang placed her straw sandals on the open ground, then waved her “magic wand” rapidly above them. Faint, barely visible white light glowed from the tip of the stick, illuminating an intricate starburst diagram.
With a gentle tap of her wand on the sandals, the starburst diagram instantly merged into them, a faint glimmer flashing briefly before vanishing.
Xu Erniang picked up the sandals delightedly, but they remained the same straw sandals, seemingly unchanged from before.
Well, not entirely unchanged. Upon closer inspection, one might notice the sandals had become just a tad more durable.
Xu Erniang’s joyful smile instantly froze on her face.
Oh great God of Light, please forgive your humble follower.
She had brought shame upon all mages!
This profound resentment successfully caught Xu Da’s attention. He glanced over and saw Xu Erniang holding her straw sandals with a complicated expression, her face full of grief and indignation.
Noticing his gaze, the young girl looked up, her face flushing red as if she’d been deeply humiliated.
This expression—Xu Da understood it all too well!
Hadn’t he experienced the same?
As a dignified Star Gate Elder, spending half the day examining two fish stones yet failing to discern any future path—what humiliation was that?
Father and daughter gazed at each other across the straw pile, suddenly feeling a sense of mutual understanding.
“Father, give me your straw sandals. I’ll enchant them for you.”
“Er Niang, don’t be discouraged. Let me perform an auspicious divination for you.”
Father and daughter shared a smile, creating a touching picture of paternal kindness and filial devotion.
Xu Yue, who had been quietly watching her parents and sister showcase their talents, gazed at the star-filled sky outside and suddenly felt this transmigration might not be so bad after all.
As long as she clung tightly to these capable family members, surviving in this unfamiliar and harsh ancient world might not be too difficult.
…
Outside the mountain crevice, the fire crackled and popped amidst the quiet night.
Inside the narrow space where grass mats and bedding couldn’t be spread out, the family of five sat on dry grass, using their backpacks as cushions as they half-reclined to rest.
Perhaps because this body was too young and weak, Xu Yue’s eyelids grew heavy, gradually closing as she leaned against her older brother Xu Dalan’s arm and fell asleep.
The four still-awake family members unconsciously softened their movements.
As the night deepened, occasional beast howls echoed in the distance. Fortunately, the sounds came from far away, too distant to reach them.
The family thought the night would pass peacefully, but just before dawn, dense rustling sounds suddenly emerged from the mountain below.
Xu Da, who had been cross-legged meditating and cultivating, was the first to awaken.
Wang Shi, who hadn’t been sleeping deeply, immediately sat up upon sensing Xu Da’s movement.
The sounds grew closer—within thirty meters now.
Xu Da extinguished the fire at the cave entrance while Wang Shi picked up her bow and arrows, handing the woodcutter’s axe to Xu Da. The two stood before the mountain crevice, intently watching the cluster of orange torchlight approaching through the darkness.
A group of about thirty people emerged from the dense forest, swarming out in a chaotic mass with torches in hand.
Perhaps the firelight against the mountain wall in the darkness had drawn them over.
Among these thirty-odd individuals were men and women, adults and children—the youngest curled in their mothers’ arms, the oldest around seven or eight, all disheveled and gaunt, their faces haggard and bodies emaciated.
On their backs were haphazard bundles of hastily salvaged belongings.
The heavy burdens pressed down on their frail frames, seeming almost enough to break their backs, yet in truth, those thin bodies proved far more resilient and tenacious than their fragile appearance suggested.
Seeing this crowd, Wang Shi and Xu Da secretly breathed a sigh of relief—they were fleeing villagers, not the vagrant army.
The torchlight illuminated Xu Da and Wang Shi before the mountain wall. Noting the couple’s wary, guarded stance, the group halted about five meters away, keeping their distance.
The two sides faced each other across the space, their eyes gleaming with a desperate ferocity unique to those driven to the brink.
Exchanging a glance, Wang Shi and Xu Da felt their hearts sink.
With so many on the other side and only two adults on theirs, if the newcomers intended to seize their cave shelter or food stores behind them, the consequences would be dire.
Xu Da narrowed his eyes—an unconscious habit when calculating strategies in his mind.
Carefully observing the group ahead, he noted most wore tattered hemp clothing, carrying children and possessions, with a few even clutching livestock like dogs or geese in their arms.
Given the severe drought below the mountain, any household that could still afford to keep livestock must have been among the village’s wealthy.
In contrast, several individuals standing scattered at the group’s edges, barely clothed, exhibited an unnervingly robust complexion and alert demeanor.
The fiercest glares predominantly came from these people.
Their eyes darted restlessly, simultaneously gauging the reactions of those around them and assessing the situation within the mountain crevice.
Unfortunately, the fire before the rock face had been extinguished, leaving only darkness behind Wang Shi and Xu Da—nothing visible.
In these times of starvation where people resorted to gnawing tree bark, Xu Da had never encountered anyone who wasn’t sallow-faced, emaciated, and listless.
At this thought, Xu Da’s eyes darkened—clearly, these were two distinct groups!
Judging by their direction of approach, they likely came from the area of Wang Village.
Amid the great drought, only Wang Village, situated in low-lying terrain, still had a functioning ancient well, making it the most populated among the dozen surrounding villages.
In barely a breath’s time, Xu Da formulated a plan. Fixing his gaze on the man with the fewest patches on his clothes, who appeared the sturdiest, he suddenly exclaimed with feigned delight:
“Could that be Brother Wang from Wang Village? I’m Xu Da from Goat Horn Village! Just yesterday my family came to your village to buy water—we met then!”
Xu Da spoke in thick local dialect, his Goat Horn Village accent flowing naturally. The astonished expression on his face gave the entire crowd pause, and all eyes turned toward the man he’d addressed.
Wang Dayou, the blacksmith from Wang Village, stared blankly at the thin, excited man in the distance, a hesitant look crossing his face.
Had he met this person before?
But judging by the enthusiastic demeanor, they must be acquainted.
Goat Horn Village and Wang Village were only ten li apart, with regular interactions between them. Many came to him for metalwork—perhaps he’d simply forgotten this one.
With that realization, Wang Dayou stepped forward from the crowd and responded with pretended surprise, “So it’s Brother Xu!”
“Yeah, it’s me, how come you all ended up escaping here too?” Xu Da jogged over.
The woman beside Wang Dayou let out a frightened gasp: “Dayou!”
Wang Dayou gave his wife a reassuring look to calm her. Xu Da, sharp-eared, immediately called out warmly: “Brother Dayou!” He rushed up and patted Wang Dayou’s shoulder, acting very familiar.
This “Brother Dayou” dispelled the doubts of Wang Dayou and the surrounding villagers.
So it was a brother that Dayou knew—that meant they were allies.
Sensing the villagers’ eased expressions, Xu Da breathed an inward sigh of relief, his face growing even more enthusiastic as he activated the essential skill of a prodigal—social bullshittery syndrome!
He smoothly blended into the refugee group of Dawang Village.