Chapter 24: A Barren Wasteland

In the Da Yue dynasty, a tael or two of silver could support a farming family for over half a month. Thirty taels over eight years meant nearly four taels of silver surplus each year. A man capable of managing this was considered quite competent in a rural village.

In fact, even compared to Xiao Jiang’s former husband, Gu Dapeng was far superior.

Gu Dapeng was tall—a big, strapping man who gave people a sense of security. But in this dynasty, the aesthetic leaned toward the Wei and Jin style: men were considered beautiful if they were fair and slender, and everyone idolized delicate young men. So someone like Gu Dapeng, tall and strong, seemed a little foolish by comparison.

That was part of the reason why Xiao Jiang hadn’t thought much of Gu Dapeng before. The main reason she’d married him regardless was something else entirely.

But all those superficial concerns meant nothing compared to cold, hard silver. Xiao Jiang regretted it so much that her guts felt like they’d turned green. Her daughter, Feng Shuilian, had red marks on her hands from being pinched, and was wailing loudly when Yuan Shi smacked her and snapped, “You’re useless yourself—why are you taking it out on the child?”

Yuan Shi glared at Xiao Jiang with hatred. She had never been as clever as her older sister, and now even as an adult, she was still so useless! Just looking at Xiao Jiang irritated Yuan Shi.

Back when her eldest daughter Jiang Shi passed away, Xiao Jiang also lost her husband and was left with four poor children. Gu Dapeng was a man—losing his wife wasn’t nearly as pitiful as losing a husband, like her daughter had.

An idea struck Yuan Shi like lightning—what if she paired her youngest daughter with her late eldest daughter’s husband?

The more she thought about it, the more she believed it was a great idea! But who would’ve thought that useless girl couldn’t even hold onto a man!

Yuan Shi had seen that woman Yan Shi earlier and the longer she looked, the angrier she got—she looked like a vixen! Didn’t she see how her former son-in-law didn’t even glance at other women? His eyes were only on that fox spirit Yan Shi. Even with the family splitting up, he was still focused only on her. Such a spineless sight!

If only her eldest daughter were still alive… Just thinking about it made Yuan Shi’s heart ache even more.

Gu Qingshan and Gu Caihe’s birth mother, Jiang Shi, was Yuan Shi’s eldest daughter. Because the first two children Yuan Shi bore were sons, Jiang Shi was her first daughter—and as the first, Yuan Shi had doted on her immensely. When her daughter passed, Yuan Shi had shed real tears of grief.

But the dead were like extinguished lamps—once someone was gone, nothing mattered anymore. There was no point talking about it now.

Suddenly, a thought crossed Yuan Shi’s mind. “Let’s go check on Qingshan and Caihe. Your sister was so pitiful—so young and already gone, leaving behind two kids. And now, they’re being bullied during this household split. Anyone who doesn’t know better would think the Jiang family has no one left!”

Hearing this, Xiao Jiang immediately perked up.

She wasn’t smart, but precisely because of that, she always obeyed her mother. Yuan Shi brought her two sons, her widowed daughter, and her granddaughter, and charged straight into the Gu household.

…

At that moment, Gu Yuzhu was munching on a piece of rice cake. She had realized her mother was raising her like a little pig—but if it weren’t for Yan Fengru’s meticulous care, the original host, who had been born prematurely, probably wouldn’t have survived in this backward ancient world.

Having her life meant she had the chance to live again. Gu Yuzhu felt she ought to cherish her blessings. Now that the household had officially split up, her mother said she could eat whatever she wanted and do whatever she liked. So, in a spirit of gratitude, Gu Yuzhu took a big bite of the rice cake.

Mmm. Delicious. Qingfang Zhai’s pastries were as good as their reputation claimed!

Gu Yuzhu squinted in delight as she ate, and then she spotted a group of people led by an old woman charging toward their house. Without a second thought, she ran inside to report.

“Mom! A bunch of people are coming to our house!”

“Who’s coming?” Yan Fengru opened the window to take a look and snorted coldly. “Just wait—your three uncles will be here too in a minute.”

“Mom, didn’t we already split from the family? What are the uncles coming for?”

“To help us move things, of course.” Yan Fengru gently tapped her daughter’s delicate nose. Her gaze out the window turned a little colder. Gu Yuzhu glanced at her mother and, seeing that she was calm and composed, didn’t feel worried either. She bounced out of the room.

“I’m going to play with big brother!”

Yan Fengru’s expression immediately softened. “Good girl. Don’t run too far—stay inside with your brother and do some calligraphy. If you run out of xuan paper, I’ll buy more for you later.”

Gu Yuzhu: “…”

Sigh. Sometimes having a doting mother was truly a mixed blessing.

During the household split, Gu Yuzhu had been dozing off, but by the time it was over, she was wide awake—and remembered something very important.

Ancient times were nothing like the modern world. Xuan paper was expensive. What’s more, anything related to scholars—brushes, ink, paper, inkstones, even the scholar’s robes—were all luxuries to common farmers. Yet her mother, Yan Fengru, let her and her brother use these things for fun without batting an eye.

Of course, Gu Yuzhu thought, it wasn’t that her mother didn’t care—it was that it was for them, so she didn’t mind. That thought warmed her heart again. With such a good mother, how could she ever repay her?

She would grow up well.

Gu Yuzhu toddled outside on her little legs. Not long after, the men from the Yan family arrived. Gu Qingbai pulled Gu Yuzhu into the corner near the door to eavesdrop.

Gu Yuzhu: “…”

“Little sister, be quiet. Let’s hear what they’re talking about.”

So this was the kind of brother she had…

But since her big brother was on the case, Gu Yuzhu let her thoughts wander and slipped into her inner space. The moment she lost focus, everything went dark—and the next thing she knew, she was inside her space.

If Gu Qingbai had been paying attention to his little sister, he would’ve seen her sitting on a small stool, head bowed, long lashes drooping like little fans—looking just like someone dozing off…

Gu Yuzhu’s space was still a barren wasteland. Looking off into the distance, all she could see was a foggy gray emptiness—nothing else. Beneath her feet were some blocky plots of land.

No, not even blocky—they were patches of weeds, resembling an untrimmed lawn. The grass she had previously pulled out had been piled to one side, forming a small heap. In the areas where she’d uprooted the grass, you could see dark brown soil.

The soil looked compact. In her past life, Gu Yuzhu had helped the old Taoist grow crops.

Well, not exactly “grow”—but in the Taoist temple, they grew some fresh vegetables themselves. There wasn’t much, and when it wasn’t enough, they’d buy more from the village below.

So from her very limited agricultural knowledge, Gu Yuzhu understood that if she wanted to grow vegetables or crops here, she would have to reclaim and till the land… That alone would be a huge task. She patted her skinny arms and legs—yep, nothing in life comes free.

Still, thinking about how she’d gotten this portable space by sheer luck, any lingering resentment faded like smoke in the wind.

Resigned, Gu Yuzhu started pulling weeds. As she worked, she thought about how she’d need to bring in some farming tools. Aside from the boundless horizon, the visible area was actually quite large—probably a few hundred square meters.

If she tended it carefully, surely it wouldn’t be completely barren.