After Transmigration, Her Whole Family Are Villains

Chapter 69

Night fell.

The barking of dogs in the village became quieter.

Some barked gleefully, while others quieted down after a beating.

In ancient times, people slept early.

Candlelight was precious.

Jiang Mianmian's Father and Mom were still awake.

Father opened a bundle, inside which was a jar that he didn't open - it was sealed tightly.

The night was pitch black, yet the couple sneakily started digging a hole.

Elder Brother and Elder Sister were already asleep.

Father and Mom were acting like thieves as they got out of bed.

Jiang Mianmian, bundled in Mom's arms, was shaken awake in a daze.

Only then did she realize what they were doing.

The hole they dug was deep.

Father personally placed the jar at the bottom.

Then he covered it with soil.

Layer after layer of dirt, the jar slowly disappeared from sight.

Jiang Mianmian was curious about what precious treasure they were burying so carefully.

Was she to dig it out and take a look when she grew up?

After the couple had buried the jar, they washed their hands and went back to sleep.

Jiang Mianmian happened to have another nighttime feed.

Then she lay in the middle.

In the darkness, she felt no fear, surrounded by the scent of Father and Mom on either side.

In the darkness, she heard Mom whisper: "How could Third Son be so cruel to himself, how could he bring himself to do this?"

Father didn't answer.

But Jiang Mianmian felt a slender hand gently stroking her back.

She was almost lulled to sleep, when she vaguely heard Father say: "Third Son will come back, he's more capable than me."

"Yes, he acknowledged our child as his adopted son. If he can't come back, let the child burn paper offerings for him. He's become an incomplete man, pitiable. Even in the underworld, he'd be bullied."

Qin Luoxia sighed and lay down next to Father.

Jiang Mianmian suddenly became a bit more lucid...suddenly understanding what Father and Mom had secretly buried.

(⊙o⊙)...

On his first day as her adopted father, Third Son had gone forth to seek his fortune, castrating himself with a slash of the knife.

What a fantastical world this was.

In the darkness, she spread her little feet and tasted them - they were a bit salty.

She heard Mom's soft snoring.

She, too, snuggled up to Father and Mom, and fell asleep.

Jiang Changtian listened to the even breathing of his wife and child, but he had not yet fallen asleep.

He found it a bit hard to fall asleep.

Feng didn't follow the noble lady.

He didn't know if that was good or not - it seemed there was no bright future for him here, just like himself.

But that day, Feng had given him a fright.

He dared not think of what would have become of him and Sister Xia if Feng had left that day.

As a father, he understood selfishness.

He couldn't bear for his child to seek fortune, worried that if he left, he wouldn't come back.

He worried that if... if something happened to him out there, without his parents to collect his remains, the child would be left in the cold.

Jiang Changtian didn't dare sigh, he just lay with open eyes.

His eyes slowly became moist despite himself.

In this small village, the only one he could truly talk to was Third Son.

He was his friend.

He said his name was Yan Jiexi.

Jie Xi had ruined his body, his yin and yang were imbalanced. There were rumors of chaos erupting outside again, and the journey to the Capital City was long - he might not even make it there alive before dying on the road.

That was what he wished for.

He had already done it, he didn't need persuasion, only to forge resolutely ahead.

He didn't need comfort either, acknowledging the child as his adopted son wasn't about having a way out, but because he knew it was a dead end.

In this chaotic era, the path for the poor was like a series of narrow bridges...

He felt a baby crawling into his embrace.

Jiang Changtian wiped the corners of his eyes and pulled the baby closer.

His small movement caused his wife Luoxia to suddenly reach out her arm and pull him and the baby into her embrace.

He thought he had woken her up, but he hadn't.

Sister Xia was still snoring softly.

Sister Xia's strength was great - even in her sleep, her arm held them firmly in her embrace, to the point where he couldn't break free. He chuckled bitterly, then finally fell asleep too.

This time, he slept very soundly.

Deep night.

In a guesthouse's firewood shed in the county town.

A disheveled form lay curled up.

Looking like a dead person.

But on closer inspection, his body trembled slightly.

He had let someone castrate him, thinking he would be fine after resting for a few days.

He needed to enter the palace, the living quarters of the noblest of ladies, and the only way for someone of no rank or status was to be castrated.

Utterly lowly, treated like mere goods, that was the only way to gain entry.

That place needed a large number of castrated men.

Because they died frequently, consumed quickly.

However, he hadn't expected to feel so unwell tonight.

He thought he was going to die.

His body emitted a foul odor for some unknown reason.

His lower body didn't hurt, but he sensed something wasn't quite right down there either.

His only consolation was that it was summer - otherwise he would have frozen to death first.

He curled up, thinking he couldn't die, he had promised his adopted son to work hard and let him eat well and live comfortably.

He couldn't die.

He absolutely couldn't die.

The long night dragged on, torturously.

And as he endured, the night eventually passed.

Dawn broke.

Slowly, rays of light pierced through a gap, shining onto a figure's face in the firewood shed.

Illuminating a face of indeterminate gender beneath matted, disheveled hair.

His tattered, filthy form took on an otherworldly quality in that sliver of light.

He hadn't died.

Day had broken.

A filthy, beggar-like figure joined a convoy of armed escorts.

He had two and a half silver pieces in his pocket.

He sang loudly: "The road stretches ever long and winding..."

The head escort scolded him, telling him to switch to a more auspicious song instead of that ominous one.

So he sang again: "Whose jade arms cradle the beauty's flowing locks, whose crimson lips have tasted the kisses of multitudes..."

The head escort turned around: "Now that's a nice tune!"