I Crossed Over with My Enemy, Only to Find Him Running the Empire - Chapter 1

Chapter 1: Double Transmigration into a Farming Family

The weathered wooden door slammed shut as Li Qiaoqiao braced her back against it, the impact shaking loose dust from the frame that rained down in fine particles.

Outside, the murky air of the Wu family home—a pungent cocktail of animal manure and cheap lard—was temporarily sealed away, along with the piercing, high-pitched shrieks of her mother-in-law, Zhang Jinhua.

Inside the cramped mud-brick room, only a few stray beams of light squeezed through the solitary small window slit. They barely illuminated the curled-up figure on the earthen kang bed: her “husband,” Wu Tieniu.

Leaning against the door, Li Qiaoqiao let out a long, weary breath.

It had been two days. One moment, the world was spinning amidst the roar of collapsing skyscrapers during an earthquake; the next, she opened her eyes to this dilapidated shack reeking of mold and damp earth.

Finding herself married to a man who did nothing but drool, giggle, and possess the mental capacity of a three-year-old, she realized instantly what a “Hell-mode start” truly meant.

She looked down, staring intensely at the chipped ceramic bowl in her hands.

Inside was a thin gruel, so watery you could see your own reflection. It was a dull grey-yellow color and emitted an indescribably bland odor.

Back in the modern world, even her dog wouldn’t have given this a second glance.

But right now, this was the only lifeline for the fourth branch of the Wu family—herself and the “idiot” on the bed.

“You have to eat to have the strength to survive!” Li Qiaoqiao swore silently to the empty air.

This was the blood-soaked lesson she had learned from the previous owner of this body.

The original Li Qiaoqiao—that poor soul—had been too honest, too submissive to Zhang Jinhua’s “rules.” She gave the best of every meal to her husband and settled for dregs and scraps. The result? She literally starved to death.

Rules? To hell with the rules! Survival was the only rule that mattered now.

Li Qiaoqiao moved with the speed of a grease-thieving rat.

She scurried to the bedside and set the bowl on a wooden stump—the “throne” the original owner used when serving her husband. She didn’t even glance at Wu Tieniu, who was sleeping like a dead pig. Instead, she swiftly grabbed another, slightly larger ceramic bowl.

The commotion of food distribution in the main hall was dying down.

She pricked up her ears, confirming that Zhang Jinhua’s booming voice had moved to the far side of the yard, where she was barking orders at the second daughter-in-law to feed the chickens.

The timing was perfect.

Taking a deep breath, Li Qiaoqiao clutched both bowls and darted out of the room, keeping her head low as she headed straight for the blackened stove in the corner of the hall.

A large iron pot sat atop the stove, a thin layer of gruel still clinging to the bottom. The lid lay askew.

Her heart hammered against her ribs, but her hands were remarkably steady. She grabbed the long-handled wooden ladle hanging nearby, scraped the bottom of the pot aggressively, and shoveled spoonful after spoonful into her large bowl.

She didn’t stop until the large bowl was eighty percent full. Then, she ladled a meager half-scoop of watery dregs into Wu Tieniu’s smaller bowl.

Mission accomplished. She hurried back to her room with the two vastly different portions and barred the door with her back once more.

“Whew…”

Li Qiaoqiao tossed the small bowl aside. She didn’t bother checking if the man on the bed was awake. She cradled her large bowl and buried her face in it, inhaling the food like a starving wolf.

As she mechanically swallowed the swill, her mind involuntarily flashed back to images from her past life: sizzling, oil-dripping honey-glazed chicken wings; golden, crispy fried drumsticks dusted with cumin and chili; ice-cold Coke in the fridge…

Things that had been so easily accessible—things she had once dismissed as “unhealthy”—were now unattainable delicacies.

“Li Qiaoqiao.”

A voice, not particularly loud but somewhat raspy, struck like a bolt of lightning over Li Qiaoqiao’s head.

Her movements froze instantly. She lifted her face from the bowl.

Gruel was smeared on the corner of her mouth, making her look slightly ridiculous. She whipped her head around, her eyes nearly bulging out of her sockets.

Wu Tieniu!

That “idiot” had actually sat up on his own!

His eyes, previously dull and vacant, were now shockingly sharp. His gaunt face was set sternly, his lips pressed into a thin line.

Li Qiaoqiao’s brain went bang—a total explosion.

That look! That wretched, punchable tone of voice! Even if he were burned to ashes, she would recognize it.

“You…” her throat tightened as she tested the waters, “You can talk?”

“Wu Tieniu’s” brows furrowed in extreme distaste. His gaze sliced like a knife over the nearly empty large bowl in her hand, then flicked toward the pathetic half-bowl of watery soup.

His thin lips moved, each word dripping with ice: “Serve the rice. Make it full.”

It wasn’t a request. It was an unquestionable command.

That (demeanor) and tone were so familiar they made her scalp tingle—the look of someone who felt the entire world owed him eighty billion dollars…

A name that felt like hot coal rushed out of Li Qiaoqiao’s throat: “Wu… Ya?”

Wu Ya. Her “frozen-marriage” CEO husband!

On the earthen bed, the corner of Wu Ya’s mouth curled up. It wasn’t a smile; it was more like a cold hook.

“Who else?”

Those two words confirmed Li Qiaoqiao’s absurd suspicion.

He tilted his chin up slightly, his eyes filled with a coldness that was now tinged with obvious disdain. “Li Qiaoqiao, it seems your cooking hasn’t improved a bit, and your eyesight is failing too. You can’t even recognize your own husband?”

“Pffft—” Li Qiaoqiao nearly sprayed the last bits of gruel out of her mouth.

“Wu Ya! Is it really you? Hahahaha!” She laughed and coughed simultaneously, her laughter bordering on manic. “You actually have a day like this! Transmigrated as an idiot? Hahaha… and you’re my ‘husband’ in name? What do they call this? Karmic retribution? God finally opened his eyes!”

She doubled over with laughter, tears actually springing to her eyes.

Wu Ya’s face darkened at a visible rate.

“Shut up! Is it that funny?”

His icy gaze swept over the empty bowl in her hand again, his disgust palpable. “Li Qiaoqiao, your ‘good life’ isn’t much better. Two days! For two whole days, I’ve had to play the fool, being fed this stuff that even a dog wouldn’t eat, and I had to swallow your spit! If it weren’t for the fact that you’re still somewhat useful…”

“What’s wrong with my spit? Starve to death, you grandson of a turtle!” Li Qiaoqiao’s laughter vanished instantly as she switched into battle mode, her eyebrows arched. “If you’re so capable, go get it yourself! Try walking out that door with that idiot’s face and see if that old hag Zhang Jinhua doesn’t whack you back into the womb with her cane!”

She snapped back without hesitation, slamming the empty bowl onto the floor. “Think I’m not feeding you well enough? You do it then! Big-shot heir to the richest family, and you’re still just a beggar for leftovers here!”

Wu Ya was choked into silence, his face turning an iron-blue. His chest heaved as his sharp eyes nearly spat fire.

But strangely, halfway through his rage, he forced it back down, replaced by a deeper, more calculating scrutiny.

“Fine, Li Qiaoqiao. At least you’ve kept your sharp tongue. It seems that the noisy crap you were listening to on your headphones the day of the earthquake didn’t go to waste.”

Li Qiaoqiao’s next insult died in her throat.

Noisy crap? Earthquake… headphones…

She suddenly remembered that at the moment the building collapsed, she did indeed have her earbuds in, listening to a web novel at 2x speed!

An extremely ominous premonition surged in her heart.