Chapter Eight: The Yang Family Household

So Lin Miaomiao asked Li Yanhe, “We could look for a nearby village and rent someone’s house. I’ll pay them, it won’t be expensive.”

Li Yanhe immediately scooped Lin Miaomiao up in his arms. Seeing the fatigue on his face, she said, “Brother Li, I can walk by myself, really.”

To Lin Miaomiao, Li Yanhe seemed very tall—he must be nearly six-foot-three. In that moment, she remembered her old roommate joking, “Looking up at you, I feel like I’m peering up from the bottom rung.”

She’d once teased her roommate for being short, even taking pride in her own height. Now, having turned into a little “radish head” herself, she couldn’t help but feel a pang of emotion. Lifting her head to look at Li Yanhe and An Qi, she asked, “Do you two feel particularly superior when talking to me?”

Li Yanhe and An Qi were momentarily stunned by her question. Then Lin Miaomiao grinned and said to them, “I’m so short, and you’re both so tall—whenever I speak to you, I feel like I’m looking up from the very bottom.”

She joked with them, and An Qi almost burst out laughing—this little girl was unexpectedly amusing. Li Yanhe smiled as well, and for Lin Miaomiao, it was as if an iceberg had melted. Her mind raced: “He actually smiled! The man with the icy face smiled! Could it be the subtropical weather causing the glacier to thaw?”

Lin Miaomiao was never one to keep her thoughts hidden. As soon as she drifted off, Li Yanhe noticed and asked, “What are you thinking about?”

“I was wondering why ice melts,” she blurted out before she realized it, and instantly felt embarrassed.

Li Yanhe laughed. “Well, it’s hot—of course ice melts, right?” Then he nodded at her.

Lin Miaomiao sighed. But then Li Yanhe hit her with a critical question: “Who taught you to hawk goods today, and how did you know the different ways to cook chicken, duck, and goose eggs?”

Her palms grew clammy as she tried to play it off, thinking, “That really is a killer question. Back in modern times, hawkers just shouted through loudspeakers.”

“Things like ‘Don’t miss out as you pass by, grand opening sale, everything starting from one yuan, twenty percent off’—that’s how it went. But in ancient times, it’s definitely a bit too… innovative.”

That’s what she thought, but aloud she said, “My father used to come to town to sell things. I watched and learned from him.”

“And the ways to cook duck and goose eggs? I saw my mother do it before. I thought it might come in handy, so I mentioned it. Honestly, I’m not even sure if it tastes good.”

That’s what she said to Li Yanhe, but in her heart, she grumbled, “Of course it’s delicious! My recipes are the product of five thousand years of Chinese culinary wisdom. In modern times, people even eat ostrich eggs. Ever seen one, you bumpkin? They’re huge!”

Li Yanhe watched her eyes dart around, clearly scheming something.

He glanced at the sky, then nodded to An Qi. “These are troubled times. The court has imposed a curfew. With little money, we can’t stay at an inn, so we’ll have to rely on local farmers. We need to hurry.”

When Lin Miaomiao zoned out, Li Yanhe simply hoisted her up like a chick. “Seriously? Just because I’m short doesn’t mean you can treat me like this! Can’t even give a warning first?”

She muttered inwardly, but seeing his anxious face, she bit her tongue. After all, she hadn’t yet figured out his temperament.

Pressed against Li Yanhe’s broad back, Lin Miaomiao could hear his breathing. For some reason, her heart began to pound—it felt almost like she was falling in love.

She shook her head fiercely and warned herself, “Men in this era have three or four wives. I’m just a child bride, the lowest of the low. I can’t let myself fall for him, or I’ll spend my days weeping.”

She steeled herself with this warning. When no one was watching, her expression was a riot of emotions.

Clinging to Li Yanhe’s back, she felt as if she were flying. He walked quickly, and An Qi kept pace behind.

After two hours, the three of them reached a village—the closest one to the county seat. Night was falling.

Li Yanhe entered first. Lin Miaomiao had assumed the village houses would be like modern guesthouses—at least clean. But all the houses were made of mud bricks, the environment far from ideal. She realized she might have made a poor choice.

But they had no money. Lin Miaomiao trailed silently behind Li Yanhe, who found a tidy mud-brick house. The owner was clearly fastidious.

Li Yanhe approached the man of the house and said, “My wife and I are fleeing disaster and have come here hoping to rent your house.”

The man, in his forties, looked every bit the honest farmer. Hearing Li Yanhe’s request, he readily agreed.

“Sure thing! If you fancy my house, it must be fate.”

The tanned, middle-aged man said cheerfully. For a moment, Lin Miaomiao thought he sounded like a Northeasterner.

Li Yanhe was visibly pleased. He took fifty copper coins from his pouch and asked, “Brother, what should I call you?”

The farmer waved his hand. “Name’s Yang Fugui.”

Li Yanhe handed over the coins. “This is all we have. Is that alright, Brother Yang?”

Yang Fugui was clearly happy with the fifty coins. “How long do you plan to stay?”

Li Yanhe thought for a moment. “A month, perhaps.”

Yang Fugui glanced at the coins. “Alright. I’ll have my wife tidy a room for you—just one for the three of you. Is that fine?”

Li Yanhe nodded. Lin Miaomiao quickly added, “We don’t need meals, we’ll cook for ourselves. No need to take care of us. We’ll clean the room ourselves. We just ask that no one comes in without asking.”

She had waited for Li Yanhe to set these rules, but since he hadn’t, she took the initiative.

She chattered on while Li Yanhe only sighed, letting her finish.

Yang Fugui, an open-hearted village man, replied, “Don’t worry, little miss. We’re honest folk; we won’t go into your room or take your things.”

“Fifty coins is more than enough. Cooking for you is normal, but if you don’t want it, that’s fine too.”

Lin Miaomiao felt a little embarrassed. In modern times, she was used to luxury hotels and valued her privacy.

She remembered news stories about hotels installing hidden cameras, which had made her quite paranoid. She always checked the mirrors and locks, so nothing ever happened to her.

Traveling, safety came first—she always picked reputable guesthouses. She’d grown used to it, and now her words slipped out. But clearly, she’d forgotten this was ancient times—no hidden cameras here.

Only now did she truly accept she couldn’t go back. She’d really traveled through time.

Lin Miaomiao was, in truth, a timid person. Her first instinct was always to protect herself. She’d never truly accepted that she’d traveled through time, nor did she want to know who her new body’s original owner was. She hadn’t even plainly asked Li Yanhe if she really was his child bride.

She maintained a detached attitude, treating it all like a vacation.

But seeing Yang Fugui’s honest face and the mud-brick houses, Lin Miaomiao realized that she might never return to her own time, and that she might have to live out her life here. Perhaps she had died in the modern world.

Li Yanhe carried her into Yang Fugui’s home. He could tell that the child was a little listless, even sad. He’d always thought Lin Miaomiao was too young to grasp life and death, even after seeing her family killed. But now, seeing her so downcast, he glanced at the house—it looked just like her old home. He couldn’t help but feel a pang of sympathy.

He placed a large hand on her head. “Don’t be afraid. I’m here.”

She felt the warmth of his palm settling over her head, and for a moment, she felt truly comforted. Her eyes reddened as she looked up at him.

Li Yanhe didn’t know why the child suddenly looked so sad; he had no experience comforting children. He was about to speak when Lin Miaomiao shook her head. “I’m fine. I’ll be okay in a bit.”

Soon, the three of them entered their cleaned room. The house was made of mud bricks, and the bed was a traditional heated kang.

For the first time, Lin Miaomiao truly felt she had returned to ancient times. In modern days, she’d seen kang beds before, but they were made of concrete, in brick houses—not like these. She remembered her grandmother saying, “If a family had a house of blue bricks and tiles, they were landlords. Ordinary folk lived in mud houses—if you could even afford one, you were doing well.”

She was filthy from the road and felt embarrassed at the thought of bathing here, even though she had a six-year-old’s body but the mind of a twenty-year-old woman.

Softly, she whispered to Li Yanhe, “I’d like to take a bath.”

Her voice was barely audible, her cheeks tinged pink, though the dust and grime made it hard to tell.

Li Yanhe was puzzled by her sudden shyness. “Bath? You mean to wash?”

She nodded. “Yes, to wash. I want to be clean.”

Immediately, she regretted it—An Qi was still standing there. She coughed, glanced up, and said to An Qi, “Brother Hei Qi, look… there’s a plane…”

She pointed to the sky, and An Qi dutifully looked up, only to hear her say, “See the plane?”

Her tone was playful, and An Qi stared at her in confusion. “Miss Lin, what’s a plane?”

Lin Miaomiao froze. Then she grinned, “Just call me Xiao Lin or Miaomiao, no need for ‘Miss Lin’—it sounds so distant.”

An Qi glanced at his master, saw no response, and replied, “I can’t. We’re not related, I can’t call you by your given name.”

Lin Miaomiao was momentarily speechless. Her mind, filled with short video memes, blurted out, “Beautiful.”

The atmosphere instantly grew awkward. She coughed, straightened up, and turned to leave. “Oh dear, I’m getting old—so sleepy. I’ll go sleep now.”

After she left, An Qi and Li Yanhe stood quietly in the courtyard, An Qi behind his master.

Both were trained martial artists with keen hearing. They could hear Lin Miaomiao muttering to herself in her room.

“Ugh, what am I doing? Why do I say such weird things? They don’t even understand. Lin Miaomiao, aren’t you embarrassed?”

An Qi and Li Yanhe: “…”