Chapter 3: Grandmother

Yang Ruoqing saw the person who had entered clearly. It was a middle-aged woman of average height, wearing a patched, blue-green coarse cloth garment. Her hair was pulled into a bun, held in place by a peachwood hairpin.

The woman’s complexion was sallow, and she was so thin that her cheekbones protruded and her eye sockets were deeply sunken; she clearly suffered from malnutrition.

Her eyes were large, and her skin was quite fair, but there were dark shadows beneath her eyes, and traces of bloodshot veins remained. Her face was full of exhaustion, as if she hadn't closed her eyes all night.

Yang Ruoqing scrutinized the woman. Looking at this ancient peasant woman’s attire and then considering the changes in her own body, Yang Ruoqing froze. A term that had become popular in recent years popped into her mind: time travel?

After Sun-shi pushed the door open and entered the room, she saw at a glance that her daughter had actually sat up. She had pushed back the quilt, was wearing patched undergarments, and a pair of dirty, bare feet were dangling off the side of the bed. Her eyes, however, were staring straight at the doorway.

Sun-shi’s feet faltered for a moment, unable to believe her eyes, and then a look of wild joy appeared on her face.

"Qing'er, when did you wake up? Mother was just washing clothes in the courtyard; why didn't you make a sound? Are you thirsty? Are you hungry? Do you need to pee?"

Sun-shi hurried to the bedside, asking in a rapid-fire manner. As she spoke, she grabbed a jacket draped over the wooden bedpost, shook off the dust, and draped it over Yang Ruoqing’s shoulders.

Her rough, calloused hands rested gently on Yang Ruoqing’s forehead, as if carefully sensing something, and she muttered, "Thank heavens, the fever has finally broken!"

Yang Ruoqing regained her senses, her gaze landing on the woman who called herself "Mother" with a hint of inquiry.

In her previous life as an elite international agent, she had experienced great storms and waves, so her ability to judge people was very precise.

The woman before her was filled with genuine concern that could not be hidden in her face or eyes.

Fearing that her feet would get cold, the woman even crouched down, tucked Yang Ruoqing’s bare feet into the hem of her own clothes, and used her palms to gently rub the dirty, blackened feet through the fabric, without the slightest hint of disgust.

"You silly girl, why are you staring at Mother like that? Could it be that after such a fever, you don't recognize your mother anymore? Do you want to drink some tea? Do you need to pee?" Sun-shi looked up, gazing at Yang Ruoqing with a face full of maternal love, and raised her hand to gently stroke her daughter’s knotted, messy hair, asking softly and meticulously.

Pee?

She meant urinate, right?

This new body of hers looked to be about twelve or thirteen years old!

Yet, this woman spoke to her in a tone one would use to coax a four or five-year-old child.

Why was this? Extreme doting? Or was there another reason?

Yang Ruoqing couldn't fathom it, and she didn't have the energy to ponder it deeply for the moment, as she was truly parched.

She opened her mouth, only to find her throat so swollen and painful that she couldn't make a sound. Didn't this woman just say she had a high fever all night? Her tonsils were likely suppurating and inflamed.

Thus, she pointed to the teapot on the table, and the woman reacted immediately.

"My Qing'er is thirsty? Alright, Mother will pour you some tea. Be a good girl and lie back down; your fever just broke, you mustn't catch another cold!"

With the woman’s help, Yang Ruoqing lay back down, leaning against the head of the bed. She watched as the woman walked over, grabbed a chipped earthenware tea bowl from the table, poured some tea from the pot, rinsed the bowl casually, splashed the rinse water out into the courtyard, and returned to the table. She poured half a bowl of tea, then carefully carried it to the bedside and sat sideways on the edge of the bed.

Yang Ruoqing wanted to reach out to take it, but the woman was one step ahead, reaching out to support Yang Ruoqing’s lower back to help her sit upright, then brought the bowl to her lips, saying softly, "Come, Mother will feed you. Drink slowly, Qing'er, don't choke."

Yang Ruoqing secretly gave a bitter smile. This woman really did spoil her children; a daughter this old, and she still had to have tea brought to her lips.

Wasn't it said that the children of the poor take charge early?

This household was so poor it was barely habitable, yet they still spoiled the child to death, even feeding her tea. If this continued, the child would be ruined sooner or later!

Yang Ruoqing really wasn't used to being served like this. In her previous life, she was an orphan who, after wandering the streets, was adopted by an organization and subjected to the most brutal training.

From childhood to adulthood, she had always been alone, and she had long since developed an independent character to face everything.

Never mind; her body was aching all over, and she was a newcomer here, so she would just follow the local customs for now.

Under the woman’s care, she drank three full bowls of tea, and her burning throat finally felt a little better.

"Oh, you're sweating, that's a good thing!" Sun-shi touched Yang Ruoqing’s forehead, the worry on her face fading slightly, and she smiled, "Your father went to town at the crack of dawn to get your medicine; he should be back before lunch. Qing'er, sit still, Mother will wring out a cloth to wipe your face."

Yang Ruoqing nodded gently, watching the woman turn toward the corner of the wall, where a simple wooden rack held an earthenware basin, with a half-old cloth draped over the side.

Yang Ruoqing watched as the woman dipped the cloth into the water and wrung it out vigorously, turning her head from time to time to smile at Yang Ruoqing. Yang Ruoqing felt a bit dazed.

This wasn't a dream. After her plane crashed into the sea, she hadn't drowned, but had traveled to a poor, ancient farming family, and even had such a loving mother.

She closed her eyes, and when she opened them again, her eyes had returned to their usual calm.

Since heaven had given her a chance to start over, she would seize it well. Living a second life, she would live out a brilliant life unlike the last!

Just as the cloth touched her face and she had wiped half of it, the door to the room was slammed open from the outside with a "Bang!" Before the figure had even entered the room, an exasperated, scolding voice rang out.

"Third daughter-in-law, what are you dawdling in the room for? You finished scrubbing the whole family's clothes, but you didn't go to the pond to rinse them. Are they going to rot in the basket, or do you expect everyone to go work in the fields with their bottoms bare?"

As the voice rang out, Yang Ruoqing clearly felt the woman’s hand tremble violently, and a look of fear appeared on her sallow face.

Looking at the doorway, an old woman stood there, leaning against the wooden frame. Her face was stern, her eyebrows sparse, and her eyes seemed to glare at you whenever she looked at someone. She had a flat nose, thin lips, and graying hair combed neatly into a bun at the back of her head, held by a silver hairpin. She wore shiny, round silver earrings in both ears.

She had a short, thin frame and was wearing a set of fairly new dark gray cloth clothes. Her feet were very small, clearly bound, and she stood there like a pair of sharp, thin compasses nailed to the ground.