Seeing her bare feet, Qin Ke hesitated only for a moment before bending down and lifting the woman into his arms to carry her back inside. Although the original owner never did farm work and spent his days idling with cats and dogs, carrying a woman was still an easy task—especially when this woman, who had been starving for days, was so light she seemed to weigh nothing at all.
Qin Ke could feel her body stiffen the instant he picked her up, but luckily the bed was very close. In only a few steps, he gently set her down.
Spring's lingering chill had only just passed; the weather was still cold, especially at night. Qin Ke rummaged through the wooden chest for some time before finding an extra quilt. It reeked of mildew, with holes in several places where cotton stuffing poked out.
Standing by the bed, Qin Ke couldn't help sighing again. He felt that in less than a single day since arriving here, he had sighed more times than he had in the past year. He had worked so hard after graduating college, finally earning a car and a home, and before he even had the chance to enjoy life—he had been thrown all the way back to a time before liberation.
But looking at the uneasy woman sitting on the bed, he forced himself to cheer up. After all, someone else here had it even worse than he did. He managed to piece together two quilts and, without fuss, placed the slightly better one over her. Then he took the damp, musty one for himself and lay down.
The bed was only slightly bigger than a college dorm single bed—maybe two meters wide. It was inevitable that sleeping with two people would be cramped.
"Get some sleep. We've got a lot to do tomorrow."
The woman was still kneeling stiffly on the inner side of the bed, unmoving. Qin Ke rested both arms behind his head and, under the faint moonlight, watched her wary and rigid posture.
After a long while, the woman finally lay down, but she pressed herself tightly against the wall, trying to get as far from him as possible.
But the bed was only so big. No matter how she squeezed, the distance between them remained only about an arm's length.
Strictly speaking, Qin Ke still hadn't fully adjusted to his new gender identity. Even though he tried to be mindful of her, he couldn't change habits built over thirty years in just a day.
"Um… my name is Qin Ke. What's yours? Since we'll be living together for the foreseeable future, I can't keep calling you 'hey, you,' right?"
The woman didn't speak. Qin Ke wasn't in a hurry. He turned his head to look at her profile. Even in the dim light, her side profile was beautiful. She lay still, gazing silently at the ceiling. Qin Ke had no idea what she might be thinking, but he knew one thing for certain—he was grateful for her presence.
Coming alone to a backward, unfamiliar era—even though he tried to appear calm, in truth, he was terrified and lost.
He had lived alone after entering the workforce, but modern comforts—technology, the internet, constant entertainment—had always diluted the loneliness. Yet here, when darkness fell, everything became silent. Not a single human presence nearby. Without the woman's existence, he didn't know how he would have gotten through this night.
"…Lu Youqing."
Just when Qin Ke thought she wouldn't answer, the woman spoke.
The sound of her voice made Qin Ke brighten. "Lu Youqing, that's a beautiful name. I'll call you Youqing from now on. The water vat in the kitchen is empty, so I'll need to fetch water first thing tomorrow. After you wake up, remember to apply the medicine again. I put the jar on the table—don't forget. I remember we have a few mu of land, though it's not in a great location. Spring planting hasn't started yet, so we need to reclaim the fields quickly…"
Listening to Qin Ke ramble on about tomorrow's plans, Lu Youqing found him even more confusing. Just two days ago, he was a violent, drunken brute. Now he seemed like an entirely different person—simple, straightforward, almost innocent. She couldn't help turning her head slightly, glancing at his bright, earnest eyes, silently wondering.
Qin Ke didn't mind that she ignored him. Thinking of what she said earlier while eating the sweet potato, he continued gently, "Life is like this. Things haven't reached a dead end, so why give up so early? As long as we're still alive, who knows what the future holds?"
The future…
Lu Youqing had once thought her future was to marry that man, bear his children, and live a peaceful, ordinary life.
But ever since her mother died and her father remarried, he had become like a stranger—cold, indifferent. Until she was disfigured and sold off, she believed she had no future left at all.
Now, the person before her seemed to have truly changed. Maybe… maybe she should try to live a little longer. At the very least… she wanted to see those people's reactions.
Had he ever grieved for her?
Did her cold, distant father ever think of her or her deceased mother?
With that shred of unwillingness in her heart, Lu Youqing slowly drifted into sleep.
Once he noticed her breathing had become steady, Qin Ke closed his eyes to settle himself into sleep as well. As he had said, tomorrow would be busy. People in ancient times had no nightlife; they slept early and rose early with the crowing of roosters.
Rural clothing was mostly coarse linen—simple and easy to wear, nothing like the elaborate outfits shown in period dramas.
Qin Ke rubbed his face. Seeing that Lu Youqing was still sleeping soundly, he moved quietly. With no industry and no car exhaust, the ancient air was crisp and refreshing. Stretching lazily, he resigned himself to the day and lifted the water buckets to go fetch water.
Villagers usually drew water from the river. The village had been built around it. His assigned hut was at the far edge of the village, not too far from the river. When he arrived, some women were already washing clothes there. Not wanting to interact with villagers yet, he chose a more secluded spot.
After three trips, the water vat was finally full. When he returned the first time, Lu Youqing was already up. On his second trip back, she had obediently reapplied the ointment as instructed.
System-made medicine truly lived up to its reputation. After a single night, the bruises on her wrists had faded significantly, and the wound on her face looked far less grotesque.
Qin Ke figured the jar of ointment would last long enough to erase her scar completely. But with no mirror in the house, Lu Youqing hadn't noticed the change at all.
"What can I do?"
When Qin Ke finished hauling water, Lu Youqing had washed up and was standing in the small courtyard.
Wearing coarse linen and with her long black hair simply pinned up by a wooden hairpin, she still seemed oddly out of place here.
But Qin Ke could see that after a night's sleep, the aura of death around her had faded somewhat—replaced by a faint spark of vitality.
Indeed, Lu Youqing had thought things through. Since she had fallen so low yet wasn't completely hopeless, she should at least try to live—for her mother's sake, if nothing else.
"Um… do you know how to wash clothes?" Qin Ke scratched his head.
"…I've never done it."
Her expression wavered, clearly embarrassed, but she still nodded stiffly. "But I can try."