The path up the mountain was difficult to traverse. Jiang Zhi had mentally prepared herself for this, but only when she actually set foot on it did she realize she had underestimated the challenge.
These mountains were not earthen hills but rocky ones. The so-called path was actually a drainage ditch between rock crevices—narrow and uneven.
The sharp stones, washed by rainwater, dug painfully into the soles of her feet. Moreover, loose gravel rolled underfoot; one misstep, and she would tumble down the mountain along with the shifting rocks.
Xu Errui, having grown up traversing these mountains, was accustomed to gathering firewood here daily. He moved with swift, sure-footed ease, finding no difficulty in the climb.
Fortunately, Jiang Zhi had also grown up in the countryside in her modern life. In places untouched by the "village connectivity" projects, traversing mountains and crossing ridges on foot was still a necessity.
Moreover, the original owner of this body was a diligent and capable farm woman.
After just a brief adjustment to her stride, she kept pace with Xu Errui ahead, also carrying her load on her back.
The foothills near the village, frequently stripped of trees for firewood, now lay bare, dotted only with tree stumps yet to sprout and patches of withered, yellowed grass.
As they climbed higher, scattered trees began to line both sides of the narrow path. Mountain spring water trickled intermittently from the rock crevices, and faint hints of green appeared by the water's edge—grass shoots awaiting the call of spring.
This scenery would be a paradise for modern hikers paying for such experiences, but Jiang Zhi was too exhausted to appreciate it, feeling more like cursing her luck.
Passing beneath towering blue oak trees, they stopped and started repeatedly along the way, finally arriving at their charcoal shed. It stood on a roughly leveled patch of ground within a sloping blue oak forest, covering an area of about ten square meters.
The people of Xu Family Village were relatively honest; despite two years of disuse, the shed still stood.
Its walls were made of wooden poles, its roof of tree bark. It appeared to have a cover, yet it leaked rain; it seemed to have walls, yet the wind whistled through.
As soon as Jiang Zhi stepped inside, she was greeted by a faceful of cobwebs.
Xu Errui placed his back basket inside the shed, then did the same with Jiang Zhi's, before wiping the sweat from his brow with his sleeve.
Panting, Jiang Zhi surveyed this refuge. Used for storing charcoal, the ground was layered with dark charcoal ash soil, and a pile of broken charcoal slag lay in one corner.
These were previously worthless scraps, discarded as waste. But for refugees like them now, they were valuable resources.
Noticing his mother's interest in the charcoal slag, Xu Errui pointed behind the shed. "There's more waste charcoal out back, dumped there from before."
"Hmm, we'll scrape the ground clean, spread new soil, and repair the shed," Jiang Zhi quickly assigned tasks before inspecting the surroundings again.
The wooden shed hadn't collapsed, which saved a lot of trouble. The few supporting pillars could still serve their purpose; only the roof needed replacing.
What pleased her most was a mountain spring right beside the charcoal shed.
Though small, a thin stream of water had pooled into a little pond. The water was clear and bright, though cluttered with fallen leaves soaking within, making it look messy.
Once they decided to tidy up the charcoal shed, they rested briefly before getting to work.
Jiang Zhi used the hoe she had brought to scrape the soil, while Xu Errui used his firewood knife to cut away the vines and thorny bushes growing around the shed.
After a busy hour of work, during which they paused to eat half a mixed grain cake by the mountain spring, they finally cleared out the charcoal shed.
The old soil, thorns, and fallen leaves were piled in the blue oak forest, while the shed area was spread with fresh, yellowish-brown soil, creating a pleasing sight.
For the first time, Jiang Zhi felt a sense of relief and satisfaction.
By now, the sky was beginning to darken, and they needed to hurry back down the mountain to return home.
They say going uphill is easier than coming down, but in a way, descending can actually be simpler.
Their back baskets were already empty. Apart from the first step being taken voluntarily, the rest of the journey was almost involuntary—a stumbling, rolling half-run.
The climb up the mountain took two hours, but the descent only thirty minutes. Standing at the doorstep, Jiang Zhi’s legs were still trembling.
Although the original owner of this body was already a grandmother, she was actually only in her thirties—still firmly in the prime of life by modern standards. Otherwise, this ordeal would have completely exhausted her.
In the evening, her daughter-in-law Qiaoyun took out an earthenware pot and cooked a pot of sweet potato mixed grain paste.
The table and stools that had been knocked over during the day were set back in place. Qiaoyun first scooped a bowl of the thickest portion from the bottom of the pot for her mother-in-law, then served her husband Xu Errui a large bowl of the dense paste. Finally, she scraped the thin remnants clinging to the pot’s edges, rinsed it with water, and that became her own meal.
Under the flickering light of a bean-sized oil lamp, the room was eerily silent despite three people being present. The absence of Nie Fantian seemed to cast a pall over the space, and no one spoke.
Jiang Zhi stared at the dark, coarse paste in the crude ceramic bowl before her, and at the finely chopped pickled vegetables Qiaoyun had deliberately placed in the center of the table. Her heart churned with turmoil.
This kind of meal was all too familiar to her—she had grown up eating like this as a child.
Especially these pickled radish greens, whose taste was the timeless flavor of Sichuan pickles, unchanged for centuries.
Was she inside a book, or in some parallel version of the Sichuan region?
Jiang Zhi sat motionless, not picking up her chopsticks. Beside her, Qiaoyun and Xu Errui dared not eat either, even though both young people were already ravenous.
Under the table, Qiaoyun nudged Xu Errui’s leg, urging him to speak.
Xu Errui stammered, “Mother, Xiao Tian… he’s just heartless. Don’t be angry, Mother. Since he’s already gone, let’s just not acknowledge him from now on.”
Jiang Zhi slowly snapped back to attention. “Who are you talking about?”
Xu Errui’s mouth opened and closed a couple of times before he mumbled again, “Xiao Tian… he’s heartless. Don’t be angry, Mother!”
“Xiao Tian!” Hearing the name, clarity gradually dawned on Jiang Zhi.
In the book’s ending, that brat was destined to become the Regent. As long as she survived until the conclusion, she would surely return to reality.
Yes, she must survive.
The world in the book was too cruel—she needed to return to reality as soon as possible.
It was only when something was lost that one realized its value.
Only now did Jiang Zhi realize that the peace and basic sustenance she had taken for granted in modern times were things others could only dream of.
Seeing her mother utter “Xiao Tian” and then fall into a daze again, Xu Errui was at a loss.
He thought to himself that since Xiao Tian wasn’t really family anyway, it was best not to mention him again.
Urged by Qiaoyun, he was about to speak again when he saw his mother push her bowl aside. “Qiaoyun, pour all three bowls of porridge back into the pot, mix them together, and then serve us again.”
Qiaoyun stood up in shock. “Mother, I wouldn’t dare!”
Jiang Zhi took matters into her own hands, pouring the contents of all three bowls back into the pot. “Qiaoyun, remember this: from now on, serve everyone the same portions.
As the elder, I should eat well. Errui is the family’s laborer, so he should eat well. You’re carrying a child, so you should eat well too. From now on, we’ll eat well at every meal.”
Having grown up in the countryside, Jiang Zhi had never heard of a family dividing a single pot of food into different grades like this, no matter how difficult their circumstances.
Ultimately, it all came down to one thing: insufficient food and scarce resources.
Watching a pregnant woman drink thin broth, she couldn’t bring herself to eat.
Xu Errui rubbed his hands together, a simple smile spreading across his face. “Mother, what good things can we eat?”
But Qiaoyun clutched the hem of her clothes, her face flushing red. “Mother, this… this isn’t proper!”
Back in her maiden home, she was always the last to eat the watery rice crust.
After marrying into the Xu family, though her mother-in-law had a fiery temper, she still allowed her to eat her fill of thin broth and plain rice, while Xiao Tian was the one who got the watery rice crust.
Now that Xiao Tian was gone, naturally it should be her turn.
Jiang Zhi slapped the table hard. "What rules or no rules? As long as I'm in charge of this household for a single day, you all have to listen to me—that's the rule."
Thus, Qiaoyun had the most equal meal of her life.
Though it wasn’t the slice of meat only eaten during the New Year, it still warmed her heart.
However, this was no time to relax and eat or sleep. Just as the family of three set down their bowls, the courtyard gate was knocked on again, and Xiao Man’s loud voice shouted, "Aunt Jiang, Brother Er Rui, refugees have entered the village!"