Chapter 4: She’s still alive

Ye Tianhui stuffed the thick stack of Hong Kong dollars into her pocket, carried the bag of wife cakes, and quickly walked along the small path to leave.  

When she had followed Li San to this place earlier, she had also been observing the terrain and surroundings. Now she knew the distribution of the patrol officers in the area and how to avoid them to ensure she wouldn’t be discovered.  

She first found a secluded corner, where the old tile-roofed house and a nearby modern high-rise created a corner. The wall of the old house was mottled and patched, with rectangular sections painted in white lime and densely filled with black or blue traditional Chinese characters, all reading “gg.”  

Ye Tianhui opened the wife cake bag. The cakes, which should have been crisp, had been somewhat crushed, but the flavor was still good, sweet, and fragrant inside.  

There were four wife cakes in total, not very big, and Ye Tianhui was drooling with hunger.  

When she had departed from Shekou, she had eaten her fill, but after soaking in seawater for almost half the night, she had exhausted her strength. Later, as she focused on contacting the snakehead and feared arousing suspicion, she hadn’t dared to buy anything to eat. Now her stomach was empty.  

She eagerly took a bite of a wife cake.  

Delicious, so fragrant!  

The satisfaction of eating a big meal was immense, and stolen wife cakes tasted even better!  

After wolfing down two wife cakes, her strength was replenished, and she felt much better.  

As she slowly nibbled on the third cake, she reflected on the earlier fight with Li San.  

Over the years, she had consciously trained herself, secretly practicing martial arts in the mornings or evenings, so her physical condition was decent. Although she lacked actual combat experience and had no confidence, now she had a general idea of her capabilities.  

Reborn in this life, her “blade” was still sharp. After eating two wife cakes, even ten Li Sans wouldn’t scare her!  

For a moment, she mused about the times. This was an era of peace, and someone like her had no place to use her skills. Otherwise, even without doing anything else, she could rob the rich and help the poor, making a living that way.  

In Hong Kong, one could scrape by with martial skills, such as working as a casino or hotel enforcer, but she didn’t want to mix with those people or follow their ways. Ultimately, she needed a means of earning a living to support herself.  

Otherwise, relying on that so-called biological father—who knew whether he was reliable or not.  

She had already written to that father, a lengthy letter, but there had been no reply. She didn’t know if he was pretending not to know or simply hadn’t received it.  

Either way, it wasn’t a good sign.  

If he was pretending, it showed this father was heartless and unfeeling. If he hadn’t received it, it indicated that the powerful Ye family’s relationships were entangled and complicated.  

For her letter to fail to reach its intended recipient, there must be a reason, likely tied to some interests or disputes.  

She thought again of Ye Wenyin.  

Only eighteen years old, a very beautiful young lady, a daughter of wealth raised amidst the glamour of Hong Kong.  

In terms of barehanded combat or survival in chaotic times, Ye Wenyin couldn’t possibly compare to her. But in the world of the wealthy, where dressing exquisitely and becoming a tool for family alliances mattered, Ye Wenyin undoubtedly had the upper hand.  

This kind of situation was something she had encountered before. In her past life, marrying the son of a Duke was a simple matter of matching statuses. She had even had the chance to enter the Eastern Palace—as a matter of fact, if she had agreed back then, she might have become the Empress.  

But she understood deep down that she wasn’t suited for that life. The ease and comfort of a noblewoman’s life weren’t easily attained; it required strict adherence to the behavioral norms assigned to women in the inner courts of that world.  

There’s nothing new under the sun. Whether it was the Dazhao Kingdom she had lived in, the mainland now, or even the seemingly economically advanced Hong Kong, society operated in the same way.  

So she knew very well that she wasn’t fit for such a life.  

In this regard, Ye Wenyin had a significant advantage. She clearly met the Ye family’s expectations for a daughter in a wealthy family. She could fulfill their demands, form alliances, and secure greater benefits for the family.  

If that were the case, even if she approached the Ye family, how would they treat her? They would probably despise her as an unpresentable daughter. Unable to bring any benefits, they might even refuse to acknowledge her.  

Imagining such a scene, Ye Tianhui didn’t feel particularly disappointed. After all, she had the memories of her past life and wasn’t some naïve child unaware of the ways of the world. In her heart, the word “father” carried great weight—it was the iron-blooded general of her past life who had fought battles across the land.

As for the blood relatives in this life, since she had never interacted with them, she did not hold any expectations of familial affection and naturally did not care much.

While thinking this, she had already finished the third wife cake.

When eating the first and second, they were so delicious she almost wanted to swallow them whole. But now, after eating the third, she felt a bit thirsty.

However, she dared not go buy water, so she could only endure it for now and look for water afterward.

While she was eating, she suddenly felt something unusual — a sensation of being watched.

She raised her eyes and followed the gaze, noticing a garbage bin at the base of a worn and old building wall. Behind the bin, a head was peeking out.

It was a boy, around twelve or thirteen years old. He was very thin and slightly dark-skinned, but his jet-black eyes were exceptionally bright, like a pair of wolf’s eyes in the dark night, filled with longing.

Ye Tianhui was very familiar with that kind of look. She had seen it in the eyes of displaced children and in the eyes of hungry soldiers.

Following his gaze, Ye Tianhui looked at the last remaining wife cake in her hand.

After being noticed by Ye Tianhui, the boy pressed his lips together and slowly withdrew his gaze.

Ye Tianhui paused for a moment before saying, “Do you want to eat this?”

The boy didn’t respond.

Ye Tianhui continued, “Actually, I’ve been hungry for a long time too. These four wife cakes were taken with my fists. I’ve eaten three now and am not too hungry. If you’re very hungry, I’ll give this one to you.”

With that, she stood up, wrapped the last wife cake in the plastic bag, and placed it on the garbage bin.

Then she said nothing more and walked away.

When she was about to turn the corner of the tiled house, a soft voice came from behind, “Thank you.”

The boy spoke in Mandarin but with a western inland accent.

His voice was hoarse, as dry as sand in a desert, devoid of any moisture.

Ye Tianhui didn’t look back and simply walked away.

**********

This matter had obviously blown up. A large group of people, like a yellow flood, surged through the housing complexes, densely packed, and then gradually dispersed. The earthy gray and yellow hues blended into the bustling streets of Hong Kong.

Local households had locked their doors and windows, but those people walking in the streets still knocked on doors, hoping for some food.

In some buildings, citizens threw out bread or clothes from their windows, which were immediately snatched up. Consequently, people gathered around those buildings and refused to leave. The citizens, naturally afraid, stopped throwing things out.

The Hong Kong government clearly had no intention of accommodating so many people. The local government dispatched police officers and Gurkha soldiers to maintain order. The television and radio news were broadcasting this matter, and discussions could be heard in the streets and alleys.

Ye Tianhui had hidden herself on the roof of a bakery, taking advantage of an unguarded moment to steal some bread and biscuits, as well as some water to drink, leaving two Hong Kong dollars as compensation.

After acquiring these items, she slipped into the second floor of a pharmacy and hid in the attic to observe the situation outside.

Now, with large numbers of people flooding in, the Hong Kong government had dispatched many police officers to expel them. Under these circumstances, no matter how clever she was, there were inherent risks.

The best approach was to lie low and wait for the masses to be repatriated. That would be when the local police’s vigilance was at its lowest, and she could then figure out how to enter the Jiexian Street police station and take advantage of the squatter policy.

Of course, there was a risk involved — the possibility of the authorities suddenly abolishing the squatter policy.

Ye Tianhui took a bite of a freshly baked egg tart. It tasted particularly good, especially paired with milk tea — absolutely delicious.

While eating, she looked out through the narrow window.

The buildings in Hong Kong were densely packed, allowing her to see only fragmented bits of the starry sky, with three to five stars barely visible. Under the night sky, families huddled together, leaning against walls, either crying softly or whispering. Despair pervaded the crowd.

Ye Tianhui stopped looking.

In her previous life, she had witnessed famine, war, and the displacement of people. Her heart had long grown cold and hard.

If she was unable to turn the tide, she wouldn’t waste any sympathy on lamenting or dwelling on emotions.

She found a relatively flat and clean spot and fell asleep on the ground.

Due to her experiences in her previous life, she had always been alert while sleeping. Thus, she wasn’t worried now; even if there was any movement, she could wake up at any moment.

She slept soundly for a while, only to be awakened by a loud voice shouting from below: “They’re distributing food!”

She got up, rubbed her eyes, and looked out the window. The sky was already bright, and a crowd was frantically rushing toward a location where the police were distributing food. There were bread and steamed buns, and those who grabbed them devoured the food ravenously. Some people shouted loudly, “Don’t push, don’t push, there’s enough for everyone!”

Ye Tianhui was also feeling hungry. Seizing the chaotic moment below, she sneaked into a dim sum shop again, grabbed some steamed buns and roasted chicken, left two Hong Kong dollars as usual, and returned to her resting place to feast.

For the next few days, she stayed quietly in this place. When she was hungry, she went out to find food; when tired, she lay down and slept for a while.

As for the world downstairs, in just two days, great changes occurred. At first, those people were herded into one area and told they would be sent away. This led to strong protests from local residents, many of whom had familial ties with the group, and naturally, they didn’t want to see such a thing happen.

However, the local government seemed determined, even deploying police batons to drive the people out.

This sparked even more intense protests from the local residents. Some righteous individuals stepped forward to organize aid for those people, forming human walls to block the police batons.

Ye Tianhui watched this scene unfold. She didn’t quite understand why those people were doing this, but she felt somewhat moved in her heart.

Perhaps this was the power of blood ties.

She thought of her biological father again and felt a trace of curiosity. If she appeared before him and told him she was his daughter, how would he react? Would he still acknowledge Ye Wenyin, the daughter he raised from childhood, or would he prefer her instead?

Would he reject her because of her rough demeanor and inability to bring benefits to the Ye family?

She found herself unable to come to a conclusion. After all, her understanding of this world was limited. She could only set the thought aside for now.

In the following days, the situation escalated. A large number of media outlets flocked to the scene, with newspaper and radio reporters covering the events. Nightclubs and entertainment venues in the local city voluntarily shut down, ceasing all entertainment activities. Local families even stopped working and took to the streets to protect these destitute individuals. Even in Ye Tianhui’s hideout, she could hear some locals weeping as they watched the events unfold on television.

Soon, the majority of those people were indeed sent away. Ye Tianhui saw the despair on their faces as they cried and resignedly boarded the transport trucks.

When the trucks began to drive away, the roads were lined with local residents desperately throwing clothes and food toward the vehicles, hoping to help in any way they could.

Just as the trucks were about to leave, a deafening wave of shouts surged toward the convoy.

The police were stunned.

Ye Tianhui looked over and saw a massive group of local residents, numbering in the thousands. They charged forward in an organized manner, shouting to the heavens and forming human barricades. They stood firmly in the middle of the road, using their bodies to block the trucks from leaving.

Some people screamed and cried, and everyone shouted that the people must not be driven away. Some even lay in the middle of the road, refusing to get up. Amid the chaotic cries and police sirens, the transport vehicles were forced to stop.

The scene descended into chaos. People on the trucks wept and shouted that they didn’t want to leave, while those on the ground surged forward to pull them down and guide them away. The police stood dumbfounded, not knowing what to do and not daring to intervene. Some officers even wiped away tears as they witnessed the scene.

Amidst this atmosphere filled with the raw and compassionate emotions of humanity, the poor people on the trucks were gradually taken in by the local residents, and the scene spiraled completely out of control.

Ye Tianhui silently observed it all from the side.

Perhaps it was because she carried the memories of her previous life, or perhaps it was because of the emotional distance and wariness her “mother” in this life had shown her, but she had never truly experienced familial or friendly bonds in this life. She was indifferent to this era and didn’t feel a strong sense of belonging.

As for coming to Guangdong and Hong Kong, the unfamiliar Cantonese dialect only deepened her sense of alienation, making her instinctively feel like these were a different group of humans, just another backdrop in this world.

It was like when she used to strategize on military maps during her campaigns, where mountains and encampments were merely chess pieces in her hands, and she could turn them into clouds or rain at will.

She saw them but couldn’t understand them, nor did she feel any empathy for them.

In other words, there were almost no things left that could truly stir the depths of her emotions.

However, as she watched this scene, a profound sense of familiarity washed over her. She recalled moments from her past life—those that had brought her sorrow, driven her to action, and compelled her to wield her long blade, marching through the stars and the night.

She even faintly felt the blood that had long grown cold in her veins slowly warming.

Ye Tianhui gently clenched her fist.

At that moment, she truly felt that Ye Tianhui wasn’t dead. When she leaped into the sea, she hadn’t died.

She must still be alive. 

The author has something to say:

For more details about the last scene, you may search for the 1962 Hong Kong Incident. The timeline in this story differs from reality as it is set in a slightly alternate world.