In the early morning of the mountain village, a cold wind cut through the village head from the col, sending chills down everyone’s spine. Suddenly, a child’s shrill wail tore through the air.
“A-Jie! A-Jie! Wuwuwu… Erguo won’t argue with him anymore, please wake up, A-Jie… wuwuwu…”
“A-Jie! Don’t leave us behind… wuwuwu…”
A boy and a girl were crying breathlessly, their small bodies huddled close to a tattered straw mat that wrapped around a slender girl of fifteen or sixteen. Though she had delicate features, her eyes were tightly shut and her clothes were completely soaked through.
…
When Song Yuanxiang woke up, she was shivering from the cold. Her wet garments clung to her skin, heavy and uncomfortable under the layers of winter clothing.
What came into view were mud walls, an uneven dirt floor, and a thatched-roof hut… Around her stood a crowd of people dressed like ancient farmers, their gazes a mix of surprise, bewilderment, and… disdain.
What was going on? Just moments ago, she had been on a bus heading home for summer vacation when it had rolled over on a winding mountain road. Now she was here.
She had traveled through time.
A flood of unfamiliar memories surged into her mind.
She was now in Xu Village, under the jurisdiction of Pingzhou City in the Great Nie Kingdom.
Her original self also bore the name Song Yuanxiang, aged sixteen. Both her parents had died in a flood in their hometown; she had fled here with her younger siblings, following her paternal uncle Song Lianggui’s family and other surviving clansmen.
In total, nine households of the Song clan had settled here. Xu Village happened to have some dilapidated old houses that locals had long since abandoned, so each household picked one to live in.
The original Yuanxiang had become the head of her own household. According to her uncle, the families had already divided their property before fleeing, so they should have lived separately. Moreover, word had it that the county would soon allocate land to refugees who had settled here—splitting into two households would mean more land for them.
But the original Yuanxiang had worried how she could possibly survive with her siblings: her brother Erguo was only nine, her sister Sanxi seven. None of them were strong enough to do heavy work; could they really rely on themselves?
In her mind, this was simply impossible.
So she and her siblings had continued living with Uncle Song Lianggui’s family—though relying on others came at a price.
The original Yuanxiang had taken on most of the household chores and even handed over monthly living expenses to her aunt Jiang Cuie. In fact, during their flight from the flood, her aunt had taken most of her money on the pretext that it was unsafe for a young girl to carry large sums of cash.
Those funds had been saved by her parents at the cost of their lives as they struggled through the floodwaters.
Once the original Yuanxiang had nothing left to give, the couple’s attitude had soured dramatically, and they had even begun mistreating her and her siblings.
The three of them were crammed into a drafty room converted from a woodshed. At mealtimes, if Erguo or Sanxi took even one extra scoop of food, they would be glared at; they were also frequently bullied by their cousin Zhuangshi…
The original Yuanxiang had felt wronged, but she had held out hope that things would improve once her brother was older and could be the man of the house, allowing them to stand on their own.
Quickly sorting through these memories, Yuanxiang tried to sit up slowly. Meanwhile, Erguo and Sanxi—who had been overjoyed to see her wake—burst into even louder sobs.
“A-Jie! You’re finally awake!”
“A-Jie, A-Jie… you scared Sanxi to death… wuwuwu…”
The two children threw themselves onto her, crying pitifully. She was about to pat their backs to comfort them when a sneeze escaped her—she was still freezing cold.
Just then, a harsh, mocking voice rang out from inside the main house.
“Tsk, look at that—she’s perfectly fine, no serious trouble at all. You two kids are making such a fuss over nothing! Your sister just choked on some water; was all that wailing really necessary? And you’ve drawn half the village over here!”
Yuanxiang recognized the voice as her aunt Jiang Cuie’s.
“Mother, please stop talking.” Her cousin Song Arong tugged at her mother’s sleeve.
Jiang Cuie’s face darkened, and she began scolding her daughter in front of everyone. “You ungrateful child! You never say a word on normal days, but now you’ve got the nerve to boss your own mother around?”
“I didn’t mean to…” Song Arong mumbled, her head bowed in timidity.
One of the onlookers, a middle-aged woman, spoke up gently: “Yuanxiang, go change your clothes quickly—don’t let yourself catch a chill.”
Sanxi had been so caught up in crying that she hadn’t noticed her sister was soaking wet. She immediately pulled Yuanxiang toward their room.
As Yuanxiang looked around the space she shared with her siblings—once a woodshed, so they said—her first thought was: How can anyone live here?
Not only was it drafty, but the only furnishings were a wooden bed frame, a pile of straw bedding, and some spare clothes—nothing else.
While changing, she could still hear Jiang Cuie muttering angrily outside:
“Who told that brat Erguo to pick a fight with Zhuangshi? And now Yuanxiang’s fallen in the water because of him? Erguo, this whole mess is your fault!”
Erguo clenched his fists, staring at Zhuangshi who was hiding behind his mother. His eyes blazed with anger as he pointed at the boy:
“I didn’t pick a fight with him! He came out of nowhere and hit me! Then A-Jie tried to pull him away, but Zhuangshi pushed her—that’s why she fell in the water!”
“It was him!”
Zhuangshi was seven, the same age as Sanxi, but a full head taller and with arms as thick as a calf’s. Now he wore an innocent expression.
Shrinking back behind his mother, he rolled his eyes and shouted: “I didn’t even touch her! She slipped on her own—didn’t she see how slippery the bank was? That’s my fault?”
“You’re lying!” Enraged that Zhuangshi would deny pushing his sister, Erguo lunged forward to drag him out and make him tell the truth.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Jiang Cuie stepped forward sharply, planting her hands on her hips and glaring.
“Look at how aggressive you are—any fool can see who started the fight! My Zhuangshi would never lie. Your sister fell in by accident, and now you’re trying to frame him?”
“I didn’t!” Erguo trembled with fury, his eyes wide as he struggled to hold back tears.
With his mother backing him up, Zhuangshi grew bolder. He stuck his tongue out at Erguo and threatened: “Watch it, or my mother won’t give you any food!”
“Erguo, stop arguing with them.” Yuanxiang emerged from the room, having just finished changing. Her hair was still damp, and she knew she had to intervene before the situation escalated further.
Erguo froze, then looked back at his sister—his heart heavy with sadness and helplessness. He had known she would say this; whenever Zhuangshi had bullied them before, she had always said they must give in because they relied on their uncle’s family for survival.
Zhuangshi knew they were afraid of his parents and grinned triumphantly at Erguo when he saw his usual tactic had worked again.
Deflated, Erguo walked over to stand beside Yuanxiang.
Yuanxiang was not afraid of them—she simply knew there was no easy way to prove what had happened. Even if they could confirm Zhuangshi had pushed her, since she was unharmed, her aunt would only brush it off as a trivial matter.
She scanned the crowd, then spoke in a clear, firm voice that reached every ear:
“Since so many of you are here today, please be our witnesses. From this moment on, I, Song Yuanxiang, my brother Song Erguo, and my sister Song Sanxi, formally split from Song Lianggui’s household. We will move out and live separately—from now on, our families will have no further ties!”
Jiang Cuie was stunned. She tugged at her husband’s sleeve and whispered to him—she had never expected Yuanxiang to demand to move out after nearly drowning.
Song Lianggui’s face darkened. For Yuanxiang to announce this in front of everyone was like accusing him of mistreating his niece and her siblings.
Yuanxiang paused, then raised her voice even higher:
“However, most of the money my parents entrusted to me with their last breath has already been given to my aunt—I will consider it payment for our travel expenses and living costs during our flight, and I will not ask for it back.
But there is one thing—a keepsake of my mother’s. I ask that my aunt return it to me.”
The villagers listened closely, and some began muttering among themselves:
“Jiang Cuie really is heartless—making Yuanxiang pay living expenses like that!”
“Exactly! I see Yuanxiang washing mountains of clothes every day. She does all the work and pays them?”
“How can they keep her mother’s keepsake? Have they no shame?”
More people nodded in agreement and continued whispering. Though their voices were low, the words still reached Jiang Cuie’s ears clearly. Her face flushed alternately green and white before she planted her hands on her hips and snapped:
“Who took anything of yours? Stop spouting nonsense!”
Instead of arguing back, Yuanxiang gave Erguo a meaningful look and called out: “Erguo!”
Erguo was still reeling from the news that they would be splitting from his uncle’s family, but when he saw his sister’s gaze, he understood immediately. He dashed into Jiang Cuie’s room without hesitation.
Once, Zhuangshi had shown off his family’s belongings to them, pulling out various things from his mother’s room—and that was when they had seen their mother’s keepsake. Yuanxiang had learned this from the original memories.
Jiang Cuie was still glaring at Yuanxiang and paid no attention to what the boy was doing.
Soon, Erguo ran back holding a wooden box aloft, gasping as he called out: “A-Jie! Found it—it’s this one!”
Yuanxiang opened the box to find a pair of gold-inlaid silver bracelets—her mother’s.
When Jiang Cuie saw the boy had rummaged through her room, her face twisted with rage. She began shouting abuse: “You little thief! How dare you go through my things—were you planning to steal?”
The woman who had spoken earlier—Jinfeng—could not stand by any longer. “It’s their mother’s things—what’s wrong with them taking them back?”
Jiang Cuie recognized Jinfeng; her husband Song Dashan had broken his leg during their flight and had his own troubles to deal with, yet here she was meddling in her family’s affairs.
She was about to retort when Song Lianggui snapped angrily: “Enough! Have you made a fool of us in front of everyone enough already?”
He could see the villagers were laughing at their family, yet his wife still refused to stop making a scene.
Jiang Cuie pursed her lips and forced down her anger.
Song Lianggui looked at Yuanxiang, sensing she was different from before. His voice was cold as he said: “Once you walk out that door, don’t think it will be so easy to come crawling back.”
Yuanxiang let out a sharp laugh—this uncle really did have an inflated sense of self-importance. Ignoring him entirely now that she had her mother’s keepsake, she turned and led her siblings back to their room to pack.
There was little to take—they simply bundled up their bedding and left Song Lianggui’s house.
Watching their departing figures, Song Lianggui’s face turned as dark as iron.
Moments later, the three stood before a thatched-roof hut at the foot of the mountain, where weeds grew nearly as tall as they were. Sanxi stared in disbelief, her voice trembling:
“A-Jie… are we really going to live here?”