Chapter Four: Life on the Run

Lin Miaomiao was carried on Li Yanhe's back as they made their way to a nearby village. Somehow, Li Yanhe had managed to acquire a set of clothes and handed them to Lin Miaomiao.

By then, the sky was already turning pale with dawn. Lin Miaomiao accepted the clothes and turned away to change into something clean.

Li Yanhe stood with his back to her. Ever since the age of three, he had not shared a table with women, and now, just past twenty, it was all the more impossible for him to watch Lin Miaomiao change.

He surveyed their surroundings, fully aware of the precarious situation they were in—caught between wolves ahead and tigers behind. With a sigh, he silently wished that his shadow guards would notice the marks he had left behind. If so, their escape would not be far off.

Once Lin Miaomiao had finished changing, Li Yanhe also disappeared into the woods to change clothes, then returned and carried Lin Miaomiao out of the trees.

They entered the village together. Li Yanhe was not adept at dealing with people; throughout his twenty years, everyone he’d encountered had been exceptionally shrewd. He had never worried about food or livelihood, let alone begged for sustenance from villagers. But Lin Miaomiao was different.

Nestled in Li Yanhe’s arms, her large, dark eyes sparkled like grapes, darting about, as if she could see through his concerns.

“Do you have any silver?” she asked him.

They walked on in silence. Lin Miaomiao was obedient and quiet, not once crying or making a fuss. Li Yanhe found himself rather fond of this child, so unlike others who would wail incessantly.

Yet, seeing Lin Miaomiao so well-behaved filled him with guilt—it was, after all, because of him that her parents had perished.

He checked his empty purse and shook his head, replying quietly, “I have no silver on me, because…”

Before he could finish, Lin Miaomiao sighed, patted his arm, and said, “Put me down. You’ve carried me all night, and if you keep going, your arms won’t last.”

She was such a small girl, her eyes so large, her face smeared with dirt from their flight, a purple bruise circling her neck—a mark left by the southern barbarians the night before. Had she not been so fortunate, she might not have survived their hands.

Li Yanhe glanced at her and responded, “It’s no trouble. You’re not heavy, and if I put you down, you won’t be able to keep up with my pace.”

Looking toward the village ahead, Lin Miaomiao said, “If there’s a village nearby, there must be a stream or a reed marsh.”

Li Yanhe nodded. “There is, but we haven’t eaten in a long time. If we don’t find something soon…”

Lin Miaomiao patted his shoulder with an air of seriousness and declared, “Don’t worry, mountain man, I have a clever plan. Just wait and see!”

Watching her, Li Yanhe was momentarily warmed by the sight of this child pretending at adulthood, her little hand patting his shoulder with such gravity.

He followed her lead, and they soon arrived at a tall reed marsh near the lake. Li Yanhe frowned, saying, “You can’t go into the water, child.”

Lin Miaomiao was momentarily stunned. “Why not?”

Glancing at the gray sky, Li Yanhe assessed the time—about four in the morning, at the cusp of summer and autumn. The air was still chilly. Lin Miaomiao stood on a rock, head tilted, looking back at him, cheeks puffed in frustration.

He sighed at her cuteness. “It’s cold out. If you go into the reeds and fall into the water, you might catch a chill.”

At his words, Lin Miaomiao shivered. He was right—catching a cold in ancient times could be fatal. Though she had just transmigrated, she had to look after herself, especially given how small this body was—no more than five or six years old.

If she caught a chill, it might be the end. Life was hard enough; to risk her life carelessly would be a true waste.

She nodded solemnly and said, “Then see if you can find any duck or goose eggs here.”

Li Yanhe frowned. “Those don’t taste good. Why insist?”

She shook her head like a miniature adult. “That’s because you don’t know how to cook them.”

She shot him a glance, standing straight and dignified atop the rock, her skin fair and her demeanor earnest. Her words and actions brimmed with wit, making her a child impossible to dislike. Li Yanhe was reminded of her earlier question and, for reasons he couldn’t explain, felt compelled to answer.

With a formal air, he said, “I am your husband, and you are my child bride.”

Lin Miaomiao was about to extol the virtues of duck and goose eggs when she was struck dumb by his words.

“Child bride! Damn it, I really am this man’s child bride,” she lamented inwardly, feeling as though the world couldn’t be more unfair. Li Yanhe heard her mutter under her breath, “Feudalism! I’m supposed to be a good little successor of communism. How can I be a child bride? Let me think… wuwuwu…”

For a moment, Li Yanhe wondered if he’d said the wrong thing. The child didn’t seem at all pleased with his response.

Unbeknownst to him, Lin Miaomiao had no desire to be his child bride at all—having just crossed over, she knew nothing of her relationship to him and merely assumed, as in so many television dramas, that a poor girl like her would be sold as a child bride.

Thus, the two of them stumbled into this misunderstanding, neither the wiser.

Li Yanhe cleared his throat. Though Lin Miaomiao’s muttering was quiet, his martial training let him catch every word.