Chapter 3

Yang Ruqing looked clearly at the person who had arrived. It was a middle-aged woman, with a fairly tall figure, wearing a coarse blue dress with patches. Her hair was tied up in a bun, with a peachwood hairpin inserted.

The woman’s face was sallow, her cheeks were sunken, and her eye sockets were deep, clearly showing signs of malnutrition.

Her eyes were large, and her skin was quite fair, but there was a dark circle under her eyes, and some bloodshot remained in her eyes. She looked exhausted, as if she hadn’t slept all night.

Yang Ruqing’s gaze swept over the woman, dressed in the attire of an ancient peasant woman. Thinking about the changes in her own body, Yang Ruqing was stunned. A popular term in recent years popped into her mind:穿越 (穿越 means "time travel")?

After Sun Shi pushed the door open and entered the room, she immediately noticed her daughter sitting up, having pulled back the quilt, wearing patched undergarments, and with her black, bare feet hanging off the bed. Her eyes were fixed on the doorway.

Sun Shi’s steps faltered slightly, a bit disbelieving, and then her face lit up with joy.

"Qing'er, when did you wake up? Mother was just washing clothes in the yard, why didn’t you say anything? Are you thirsty? Hungry? Do you need to use the bathroom?"

Sun Shi quickly rushed to the bed, asking questions in rapid succession. She grabbed the coat hanging on the wooden bar at the foot of the bed, shook off the dust, and draped it over Yang Ruqing’s shoulders.

Her rough, calloused hands gently rested on Yang Ruqing’s forehead, as if carefully feeling something, and she muttered, "Thank heaven and earth, the fever has finally broken!"

Yang Ruqing came back to her senses, her gaze filled with a hint of inquiry, focusing on the woman who called herself "Mother."

In her previous life as an elite international agent, she had experienced many storms and had a very accurate eye for people.

The woman in front of her was filled with genuine concern in her face and eyes.

Afraid that Yang Ruqing’s feet would get cold, the woman squatted down, tucking her bare feet into the hem of her own dress. She gently rubbed Yang Ruqing’s dirty, black feet through the fabric, without any sign of disgust.

"Why are you looking at Mother like that, silly girl? Did the fever make you forget who I am? Do you want some tea? Do you need to use the bathroom?" Sun Shi looked at Yang Ruqing with a loving expression, gently stroking her daughter’s tangled, knotted hair, and asked tenderly.

Use the bathroom?

Does that mean to urinate?

Her new body was probably around twelve or thirteen years old!

Yet, this woman spoke to her as if she were a four or five-year-old child.

Why? Out of extreme indulgence? Or for some other reason?

Yang Ruqing couldn’t figure it out and didn’t have the energy to think deeply about it at the moment because she was indeed very thirsty.

She opened her mouth and found her throat was so swollen and sore that she couldn’t speak. The woman had just said she had a high fever all night, so it was probably due to tonsillitis.

So, she pointed to the teapot on the table, and the woman immediately understood.

"Is my Qing'er thirsty? Alright, Mother will get you some tea. Lie back down and rest, you just got over the fever, you can’t catch a cold again!"

With the woman’s help, Yang Ruqing lay back down, leaning against the head of the bed.

The woman walked over, picked up a chipped earthenware teacup from the table, poured some tea into it, and casually rinsed it. She poured the rinse water out into the yard, then returned to the table, refilled the cup with more tea, and carefully brought it to the bed, sitting on the edge.

Yang Ruqing tried to reach out to take the cup, but the woman quickly grabbed her waist, helping her sit up straight, and then brought the cup to her lips, saying softly, "Here, Mother will feed you. Drink slowly, Qing'er, don’t choke."

Yang Ruqing smiled bitterly to herself. This woman really spoiled her child, even a girl of this age had to have tea brought to her lips.

Didn’t they say that poor children grow up fast?

This family was so poor, yet they indulged their child to the point of bringing tea to her lips. This would eventually ruin the child!

Yang Ruqing wasn’t used to such pampering. In her previous life, she was an orphan, taken in by an organization after wandering the streets, and underwent the most brutal training.

From a young age, she had always been independent, facing everything on her own, and had developed a strong, self-reliant character.

Well, her body was aching all over, and she was in a new place, so she decided to go with the flow this time.

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

"Ah, you’re sweating, that’s a good sign!" Sun Shi touched Yang Ruqing’s forehead, her worried expression easing, and she smiled. "Your father went to town at dawn to get medicine for you. He should be back before lunch. Qing'er, sit still, Mother will get you a cloth to wipe your face."

Yang Ruqing nodded slightly, watching the woman turn to the corner where a simple wooden rack stood, with an earthenware basin and a half-used cloth on it.

Yang Ruqing watched as the woman soaked the cloth in water, wrung it out, and occasionally turned to smile at her. Yang Ruqing was a bit dazed.

This wasn’t a dream. After the plane crash and falling into the sea, she didn’t drown but had time-traveled to an ancient peasant family, with a mother who loved her so much.

She closed her eyes and then opened them again, her eyes regaining their usual calm.

Since heaven had given her a second chance, she would seize it and live a different and more brilliant life this time!

Just as the cloth was halfway across her face, the side room door was suddenly slammed open, and a furious voice barked from outside.

"Old Third’s wife, what are you hiding in there? You haven’t even rinsed the clothes in the pond, and they’re all piled up in the basket. Are you going to go to the fields naked?"

As the voice suddenly rang out, Yang Ruqing clearly felt the woman’s hand tremble, and her sallow face showed a hint of fear.

At the side room door, an old woman stood, leaning against the wooden door, her face stern, with sparse eyebrows and eyes that seemed to glare at people. She had a flat nose, thin lips, and her gray hair was neatly tied back in a bun with a silver hairpin. She wore silver hoop earrings on both ears.

She was short and thin, wearing a slightly old dark gray dress, and her feet were small, clearly bound. She stood there like a sharp, thin ruler nailed to the ground.