Their joyful mood lasted until they returned home, where they found over a dozen maids gathered in front of their usually quiet courtyard. The maids were exquisitely dressed, adorned in red and green.
“Who are you?” Luo Yan demanded coldly.
The maids turned in unison, their eyes lighting up with admiration at the sight of the pair, especially the young man in black robes. They stole glances at him, their ears turning red.
It was Jia Yufang who, hearing her granddaughter’s voice, came out to greet them. In a hushed, hurried tone, she explained, “The Wang family has sent matchmakers again, this time with the steward of the Sheng family as a mediator.”
She then pointed at Zhu Yun and introduced him to the matchmaker and two middle-aged stewards who had followed. “My granddaughter is already betrothed.”
Although they had pretended to be a family of three to the villagers, only Jia Yufang and Jia Louyan were registered in the household records. Outsiders from town knew even less about Zhu Yun’s identity.
Seeing how extraordinary the two looked, like celestial youths from temple murals, the matchmaker dared not play the villain who breaks up a happy couple. She could only retreat awkwardly.
Luo Yan didn’t take the matter to heart. She presented a basket of mountain flowers to Jia Yufang as if offering treasure, and the grandmother and granddaughter entered the house chatting and laughing.
Only Zhu Yun remained where he was. He noticed the two stewards leading the maids toward the western slope, while the matchmaker went alone to the south. Straining his ears, he faintly heard the sound of men’s angry voices, and more than one.
Something was wrong.
He returned to his room, fetched two bottles of medicine and a dagger, then quietly followed them.
…
Luo Yan changed into dry clothes and stepped outside, but there was no sign of Zhu Yun.
“Appearing and disappearing like a ghost,” she pouted, picking up the newly acquired slingshot. She called out to the busy figure in the eastern kitchen, “Grandmother, I’m going to Liu Changsheng’s house.”
Jia Yufang replied, “Go and come back quickly.”
The weather was growing colder, and Qingyuan Village had become quiet. Luo Yan walked a hundred paces without seeing anyone, but then spotted third sister suddenly emerging from a haystack.
She ran over with a laugh, “You little rascal, no wonder I couldn’t find you anywhere.”
However, third sister’s eyes were wide open, her pupils emitting an eerie green glow. Upon closer look, they resembled the digital rain from sci-fi movies.
Luo Yan nearly had a heart attack. Tentatively reaching out her hand, she said anxiously, “Don’t scare me.”
Just then, an electronic prompt tone exploded beside her ear,
“Ding, signal connected.”
The electronic voice startled Luo Yan, causing her to stumble. She quickly reached out a hand to steady herself, but her sleeve still ended up smeared with yellow mud.
In the haystack, the kitten remained as stiff as a stone statue, while a digital rain poured from her vertical pupils, coalescing into a virtual panel in mid-air.
It was all too surreal.
Luo Yan maintained her half-crouched posture, squinting against the glare of the malfunctioning panel, her feet feeling light and unsteady. The sensations made her wonder if the world of the book was even real, perhaps she was lying on an operating table, dreaming a long dream under the effects of anesthesia.
No, the pain was real.
She looked down at her palm, which was scraped and dented from the stones, with a few bloody scratches beginning to burn with an undeniable intensity.
“This isn’t a dream,” Luo Yan murmured, blinking slowly as teardrops the size of beans rolled from her eyes. Yet, the corners of her lips curled upward uncontrollably as she repeated, “It’s not a dream.”
In the first half-year after transmigrating, she would wake up every day and stare blankly at the antique-style room. Sometimes she missed her family; other times, she feared the death foretold in the book.
As time passed, her grandmother’s meticulous care, A-Yun’s intimate companionship, and the presence of Liu Changsheng, Qing Cao, Third sister, along with her beloved bow and sword… had all molded a new Luo Yan.
Luo Yan had no desire to return to her former world. Besides, she had only just agreed to the marriage proposal yesterday.
She straightened up, wiping the moisture from the corners of her eyes with the back of her hand, and saw the virtual panel nearing completion. Third sister, now free, bristled all over with fluffed-up fur before leaping onto a tree branch and darting away like a gust of wind.
Luo Yan couldn’t help but chuckle softly. “When disaster strikes, everyone flees for themselves.”
Just as she was about to step away, the panel seemed to activate an auto-follow feature, hovering persistently in her line of sight. Two lines of black text scrolled across the screen: “Download Voice Pack” and “Generate Avatar.”
Soon, lines of code assembled into a snow-white mixed-breed cat, about the size of a baby’s arm, circling Luo Yan enthusiastically and speaking in a cute, childlike voice, “Host, host, I’ve finally found you.”
Luo Yan had already regained her composure. She brushed off her sleeves and turned to leave.
The white cat seemed confused, running three system checks for bugs, each time receiving a prompt that everything was functioning normally. It then leisurely followed her, tilting its head and asking, “Host, can’t you see me?”
Startled by the sudden appearance of the cat’s head, Luo Yan pretended to cough behind her hand and took out a handkerchief to dab at imaginary sweat.
“That shouldn’t be,” the white cat muttered, tapping the panel a few times. Instantly, an electronic announcement sounded:
“Signal connected. Task completed.”
Having been in the Jia family for years, this was the first time she had learned of such a custom.
After the meal, Jia Yufang took freshly baked flatbread to visit a neighbor. Her granddaughter, perhaps frightened from the day’s events, lay quietly on her special bamboo bed, her eyes warily watching the courtyard.
Zhu Yun led her out to admire the moon. Noticing Luo Yan’s distracted state, he lowered his head until his forehead touched hers. “What did that Cui fellow say in his last letter?”
“It’s not because of Cousin,” she murmured, her ears burning. “You’re too close.”
Hearing this, he grew even bolder, his nose brushing against hers intentionally or not, his gaze direct and intense, as if it could burn through a sheet of paper.
Luo Yan: “……”
The person remained unmoved by both soft and hard approaches, so she had no choice but to feign composure and say, “I really want to tell you some things, but somehow I just can’t say them. It’s not that I’m unwilling, it’s that I’m unable. Do you understand?”
Zhu Yun tried hard to discern the difference between the two, his expression slightly confused.
Strangely, she found the young man’s bewildered demeanor rather endearing. Almost as if bewitched, she drew closer and impulsively suggested, “Let’s run away.”
“Huh?” Zhu Yun took a step back, fixing her with a steady gaze. “Alright, let’s go.”
“Go where?”
Zhu Yun did not answer, urging her to return to her room to pack her belongings. He reminded her to bring her favorite dresses and bedding if possible.
In short, it felt as though he were eloping with Luo Yan.
She selected a few of her usual sleeping garments and the cotton dress her grandmother had sewn for her, clumsily stuffing them into a bundle. From her dressing case, she retrieved the gold hairpin Zhu Yun had given her and tucked it directly into her hair.
“Oh, how should I explain this to Grandmother?”
Just as she was at a loss, she saw Zhu Yun returning hurriedly from outside. He smiled and said, “I’ve already spoken to Grandmother.”
Luo Yan was astonished by his efficiency and asked curiously, “You didn’t even ask me why I want to run away.”
“Does it matter?” Zhu Yun held a lantern in one hand and took her bundle with the other. “If you wish to go, I will take you with me.”