Chapter 5: Finding Life in a Dead End

Ding Zhao hurried home, carrying a box.

Inside the box were candies and preserved fruits he had bought for his son, tonic medicine for his father, and a piece of floral cloth for his wife. It had cost him over five taels of silver; it would be a great pity to lose it.

Ding Zhao and his wife rented a place in Qihou Alley, not far from Yinfeng Street; it took him a little over two quarters of an hour of brisk walking to arrive. The residential area was dilapidated, old, and cramped, inhabited mostly by vendors and laborers. As soon as he entered the mouth of the alley, a turbid smell wafted toward him.

Dirty puddles lined the ground one after another. He walked on his tiptoes to avoid the water and knocked on the second courtyard gate.

"Who is it?" a woman's voice called out.

Ding Zhao replied, "Zhiniang, it's me."

He had never heard either of those voices before.

Inside the box, Xun Xiang felt a surge of excitement. She hadn't expected that she, who was surely dead, would find a way to survive, her fate reversing once again.

Xun Xiang had been jolted awake by a fall.

Hearing the commotion and shouting outside, she guessed something had happened and realized the box she was in had fallen to the ground.

She didn't dare cry out, praying that the "He Shun" mentioned by that old woman wouldn't pick up the box. Yet, she also feared that if the box wasn't picked up, she would be trampled to death.

While she was agonizing, the box was lifted up.

She felt like crying but had no tears; she was destined to be the shortest-lived transmigrator ever.

After a moment, hope flared up again because the person carrying the box was walking rather than riding in a carriage, and she didn't hear the voice of Granny He.

Perhaps someone had seen the value of the box and snatched it away first.

Xun Xiang prayed that whether it was a thief, a bandit, or a villain, anyone would do, as long as it wasn't He Shun.

No matter if the path ahead led to a tiger's den or a dragon's lair, it was better than being killed immediately; there would still be room to scheme.

Hearing those two voices, Xun Xiang was certain she had indeed been picked up by someone else.

There was the sound of a door being unlatched, followed by a man's voice.

"I also bought a piece of printed cloth for you."

The woman laughed, "You spent so much money on medical treatment, why waste more money on trifles?"

Ding Zhao smiled, "Blue background with red flowers; it will look beautiful when you make clothes with it."

The couple entered the room and placed the wooden box on the table.

Looking at the wooden box, Mrs. Zhang said in surprise, "Husband, this box isn't ours."

Startled, Ding Zhao looked down closely at the box. It was dark brown and of a similar size, but it was carved with patterns and the wood was of much higher quality.

"It indeed isn't ours. I must have picked up the wrong one on Yinfeng Street. I was in such a hurry that I didn't look closely."

He hurriedly opened the lid and saw a tiny baby, dressed in green and wearing a small pink cap, curled up inside the box. The baby opened her large eyes and watched them quietly.

Both Ding Zhao and Mrs. Zhang cried out in shock.

"Heavens!"

"What happened?"

Ding Zhao explained how, while passing Yinfeng Street, he had encountered a stampede of horses, causing the box in his hands to fall to the ground before he picked it up again.

"I'll head back to Yinfeng Street immediately to see if anyone is looking for a child."

Mrs. Zhang, however, was captivated by the baby in the box, her eyes filled with affection and pity.

"Tsk tsk, how beautiful. This is the first time I've seen such a handsome child. And so brave, she isn't even crying."

She lifted the child out of the box and pulled off the diaper; it was a girl.

The tenderness in her eyes deepened as she examined the child carefully. "The clothes and the hat are made of the finest soft satin, embroidered with flowers and sewn with pearls, and even scented. The box is carved with patterns too... This child is not simple; she must come from a wealthy family."

In her year in the capital, Mrs. Zhang had made money by selling knotwork to embroidery shops, so she could distinguish the quality of fabrics. She occasionally encountered noblewomen visiting those shops, so she could also tell the difference in scents. Although the child's scent was very faint, it was extremely pleasant, likely from high-quality incense.

Ding Zhao also noticed the abnormality. "A baby this small—even if not from a wealthy family, even for common folk like us, we would carry them in our arms or on our backs for fear of bumping or bruising them.

"Children from rich families are precious; why would they be placed in a box with a lid, clearly intended to keep them out of sight? Could a bad person have stolen the child to sell her?

"Or perhaps the thief is an enemy of the child's parents, intending to kill her and dump her in a mass grave? It's terrifying to think about; if the crowd had been any larger, this child would have been trampled to death."

After saying this, he shook his head, negating his previous guess. "But that's not right either. Wealthy families aren't like us commoners; a thief can just climb a wall to steal things. Wealthy families live in deep manors with many masters and servants; how could a child be stolen so easily?

"In that case, there must be someone within the child's own household working with an outsider to steal her away."

Xun Xiang was very surprised; this couple was quite clever, analyzing everything logically.

Mrs. Zhang grew somewhat frightened. "Husband, by picking this child up, have you brought trouble upon us?" She sighed again, "Such a beautiful child, how could they bear to part with her?"

Ding Zhao said, "Great households have many dark secrets. As long as their interests are affected, they are capable of anything."

His late mother had been harmed by her own family.

Ding Zhao took the child from his wife's arms. The baby was incredibly beautiful, her clear eyes staring at him without blinking. Ding Zhao's heart softened, and he found himself reluctant to put her down.

Hearing their conversation, Xun Xiang was certain these two were good people. Fearing they might send her back to the wolf's den, she grinned at them.

In her heart, she screamed: *Please adopt me! Please adopt me quickly!*

Mrs. Zhang's heart melted; she loved this child to her core and could see her husband's affection for the baby as well.

She said, "Heavens, look how sweetly she smiles at us. Husband, I told you, I dreamed a few days ago that I gave birth to a daughter. Could this be the daughter Heaven has bestowed upon us? Why don't we raise her? If we return her to Yinfeng Street, there might not be anyone to claim her, and even if there is, they might end up killing her. I've only had two sons, and my father-in-law longs for a granddaughter every day. But my body was damaged when I gave birth to Liren; who knows if I can conceive again."

Xun Xiang was ecstatic. This was the "transmigrator's halo"—even when destined to die, she could be swapped again by a twist of fate and picked up by this family. This couple looked kind, and they happened to have no daughter.

She gave the woman an even sweeter smile, then turned her eyes toward the man, looking at him earnestly. She couldn't see them, of course, but she could identify their direction by their voices.

Ding Zhao also remembered his wife's dream about having a daughter. Was this truly a daughter bestowed upon them by Heaven?

He smiled and said, "This child is truly clever. Look at those little eyes; she's afraid we won't want her. Picking her up must be fate."

*Of course we have fate!* Xun Xiang was so happy her eyes curved into crescents.

Seeing the baby smile so sweetly at him, Ding Zhao felt a surge of tenderness. However, he still said, "But, we cannot simply keep her..."

Mrs. Zhang said anxiously, "Why not? You like this child too."

Xun Xiang's smile froze instantly, and her lip trembled as she prepared to cry. They had spoken so beautifully, so why were they not keeping her after all?