The mountain wind carried the scent of grass and trees from all directions, and amid the chirping of insects and birds, Jian Jia felt an extraordinary quiet settle over the world. She scanned the surroundings, spotting through the towering thatch the large yet dilapidated house of the Qin family.
Closing her eyes, she felt a sudden grounding, a familiarity that brought to mind the rush of returning home during high school holidays before she had ever traversed worlds. The bumps and restlessness of the journey vanished the moment she saw the lights in her grandparents’ house, and a sense of “I’m home” would wash over her.
Though the Qin family courtyard differed entirely from the familiar farmhouse courtyards of her past, a deep sense of reality rose within her.
It had been several days since her arrival in this world. At first, she felt as if she were in a bizarre dream, sure that upon waking, she would return to her busy modern life as a corporate worker. Jian Jia, like the villagers of Jian Jia Village, seemed just an NPC in that dream.
Now, however, she felt her own presence. She could feel the wind on her face, hear the horse breathing beneath her, see Qin Yi carrying her bridal gifts into the house…
She was truly alive—not a dream, not a game.
After an unknown span of time, footsteps approached. Following the sound, she saw Qin Yi standing beside her, expression calmly: “Not coming down?”
Only then did Jian Jia realize that while she had been lost in thought, Qin Yi had already carried all the dowry into the house. She had remained perched on the horse, doing nothing to help. Embarrassment crept over her, unsure whether Qin Yi would take offense.
“I’ll get down now,” she said, but had overestimated her own strength. After sitting so long, her legs had gone numb. Any movement sent her body tipping uncontrollably toward the ground.
Before she could cry out, she felt herself steadied by another’s hands, and in the next moment, her feet were firmly on the ground. A dull thud sounded, and she realized the large package hanging from the saddle had fallen, scattering its contents.
Among the mess were smooth inkstones and pristine rice paper, fans inlaid with mother-of-pearl, intricately styled jade pendants, and most strikingly, colorful sachets and scented pouches.
Bending down, they spotted a pouch embroidered with mandarin ducks rolling toward them, the flashy birds stitched beneath a golden “Xu” character. Clearly, it was an object carrying the original owner’s unrequited feelings. And now, it had fallen into the eyes of her nominal “husband.”
Jian Jia’s lips twitched involuntarily. Though she had endured many socially mortifying situations as the “scroll king,” none compared to this. Qin Yi stepped back, crouched, and picked up the pouch.
Her gaze followed the pouch to Qin Yi as she awkwardly said, “Um… I can explain…”
Unhurried, Qin Yi began gathering the scattered items, his voice cool and clear: “You needn’t explain to me. I know you like Xu Lingsheng.”
A sharp pang hit Jian Jia’s chest, and words of protest stuck in her throat. Qin Yi handed back the small items, speaking firmly: “Jian Jia.”
He looked her directly in the eyes, dark and deep like hidden mountains and pools, devoid of romantic feeling or irritation that his wife admired another. There was only polite distance, like a stranger.
Jian Jia froze. He continued, each word deliberate: “Your parents once helped my family, and we are grateful. My marriage to you is not born of love, but of repayment. If you do not mind, I will provide you a place to stay. So long as you do not act out of line, I will treat you as family.”
Pausing, he dusted off the pouch and offered it toward her: “There are no delicacies here, no silk or fine fabrics, but at least you will be safe. I will not harm you. If you find a better home in the future, you may leave. Should you meet a good man, I can explain and grant a separation. How does that sound?”
Surprise flickered across Jian Jia’s eyes. She had not expected Qin Yi to speak so openly about his intentions. Had it been the original owner—sensitive, proud, and self-important—she might have assumed Qin Yi’s words were a slight and grown to despise him further. Jian Jia, however, recognized the sincerity in his offer.
Qin Yi was forthright, and she was not one to hide. After a moment’s thought, she replied earnestly: “Qin Yi, first, thank you for saving me. Without you, I cannot imagine what fate I would have faced. During my stay in your home, I will treat you as family and do whatever I can to help.”
She paused, then said with conviction, “Thank you for your help.” Without Qin Yi, she would have continued sparring with her step-siblings; he had given her a place of refuge, and she would repay his kindness.
Qin Yi studied her silently for a moment, and once Jian Jia had finished gathering the scattered items, he pointed to a narrow path through the thatch: “Let’s go inside.”
Earlier, the house had seemed merely dilapidated from afar. Walking through the thatch to the front, Jian Jia found the house far larger than expected.
The mountains were perilous; beyond wild animals, famine years could bring bandits. For safety, mountain homes were built in a quasi-courtyard style, raised foundations, with only one or two main gates.
The Qin family’s walls were especially tall. The exterior, aside from the southern main gate and a northeastern side gate, had only small square windows visible from above. Mud plaster had chipped in places, exposing large stones beneath.
At first glance, the house’s exterior was not attractive, but it was a solid mountain fortress. The house showed its age, with repairs evident everywhere.
A porch extended before the southern gate, seven zhang long and five chi wide, the largest Jian Jia had seen. Yet it was cluttered with miscellaneous items, its original form obscured.
Just as Jian Jia prepared to enter, footsteps and a child’s timid greeting came from the thatch: “Brother.”
Looking, she saw an elder and a child emerging from the east-side path. The elder, around fifty, wore a conical bamboo hat and faded coarse cloth. Tall and thin, his wrinkled face bore a gentle smile: “The General has been back for a while; I imagine you’ve returned as well.”
Perhaps fed in the morning, the dog General excitedly nudged Jian Jia’s hand, sniffing her palm. How could she resist? Jian Jia petted him twice, making him squint and flop onto his back, paws in the air, belly exposed.
She laughed; the dog’s warmth and enthusiasm were irresistible.
The child, about four or five, looked delicate and charming. Yet he seemed somewhat ill, unusually pale, with cheeks slightly sunken and lips an abnormal pink-white. At midday, he wore a small padded jacket.
He hid behind the elder, stealing glances at Jian Jia, then quickly bowing his head when she looked at him, hands trembling slightly in fear.
Qin Yi introduced them: “This is my Second Uncle.”
Jian Jia politely greeted: “Second Uncle, hello.”
The elder’s eyes were a bit clouded, but he could still see her standing straight and composed, and his joy was evident as he repeatedly exclaimed: “Ah, good, good child, you must be tired from the journey.”
Jian Jia smiled and politely exchanged a few words before turning to the small child. Qin Yi’s expression softened as he said: “This is my little brother, Qin Lang. Qin Lang, she is Jian Jia; you may call her sister.”
Jian Jia smiled gently at the boy.
Cautiously, Qin Lang looked up at her, curious, then quickly lowered his head, voice weak and obedient: “Hello, sister. I’m Qin Lang, the ‘Lang’ from moonlight and clear wind.” He pressed his lips and hid behind Second Uncle.
Second Uncle patted his head: “You two go ahead; we have business here and will leave first.” He turned slowly down the path, Qin Lang watching anxiously.
Jian Jia observed the boy closely, silently sighing. This was the frail little uncle who had died within two years of the original owner’s marriage.
Qin Lang had been chronically ill, needing medicine and care. The original owner disliked children, treated Qin Yi coldly after marriage, and even more so Qin Lang. The boy, neglected and deprived of care, had died due to misused funds that should have gone to his treatment.
Jian Jia gently nodded at Qin Lang, extending her right hand: “Hello, Lang’er. It’s my first time here; I’m unfamiliar. Will you be my little guide?” Regardless of his future, she would treat him well.
Hearing this, Qin Yi paused, his concern briefly flickering. As Qin Lang’s elder brother, he knew his little brother’s timid nature well. Could Jian Jia and he establish a bond on first meeting?
Unexpectedly, Qin Lang shyly sidled to Jian Jia, slowly extending his small hand.
Jian Jia smiled faintly, took his hand, and held it gently.
Qin Yi watched the two hands in his, then turned back to organize the saddle. Jian Jia, holding Qin Lang’s hand, crossed the high threshold into the Qin family home.
The house was arranged in a square layout. Upon entering, a square courtyard came into view, surrounded by covered corridors and various rooms. The windows were large to let in light, and the layout was orderly.
Unfortunately, most of the corridors and courtyard were cluttered with branches and debris, turning the spacious house into a junkyard.
Jian Jia was puzzled: Qin Yi appeared meticulous, why was his home so messy?
Soon, Qin Yi entered the courtyard, pointing to a room in the northwest corner: “Your belongings are there; it will be your room from now on.”
Though Jian Jia’s understanding of this era was limited, she knew the northern room was the main room, reserved for the head of the house. Qin Yi could have placed her anywhere, yet he gave her the main room.
A rush of emotion swept through Jian Jia.
Accustomed to cold, self-interested modern social norms, she had long kept to herself. Meeting Qin Yi, a man of principle and integrity, was a rare and reassuring experience.
Jian Jia pressed her lips together, brushing stray hair behind her ear. Her heart felt increasingly secure.
No one disliked having a principled, reliable partner. Leaving Jian Jia Village with Hunter Qin had been the best decision she had made since traversing this world.