I Crossed Over with My Enemy, Only to Find Him Running the Empire - Chapter 14

Chapter 14: The Warning

The sun slanted westward, stretching Li Qiaoqiao’s shadow long across the dirt road of Wanfu Village.

She carried a heavy wooden basin filled with wet clothes she had just finished pounding clean by the Apricot Blossom River. Her fingers were red and swollen from the icy water, the skin at her fingertips wrinkled like dried fruit.

On both banks, the bare branches of the apricot trees clawed at the twilight sky like a vast, inescapable net.

As she walked, she mentally mapped out the paths she had just observed—which alley was narrow enough for only one person to pass sideways, which house had a high stack of firewood behind it for a temporary hiding spot, and which ridge in the fields had an inconspicuous hollow…

But the thought of the Wu family’s dense cluster of neighbors made her heart sink. If one household shouted, the neighbors to the west would grab their shoulder poles and rush out to block the way.

Escape? Unless things reached a truly desperate point, running now would be like walking straight into a trap.

Pushing open the creaking courtyard gate of the Wu house, a smell of animal waste mixed with woodsmoke hit her face.

The courtyard was quiet. In the non-farming season, country folk saved grain by eating only twice a day. This late afternoon hour was the time to prepare the evening meal.

Today was the turn of the third and fourth branches of the family to cook.

Li Qiaoqiao set the wooden basin by the base of the wall, shook the water from her hands, and walked straight toward the low, cramped kitchen on the west side.

The doorframe was low; she habitually ducked her head as she entered.

A thick wave of steam wrapped in a faint scent of beans surged toward her. The flames in the hearth leaped, casting flickering shadows against the walls.

Sister-in-law Liu, the third wife, was busy at the stove with her back to the door, her shoulders hunched.

Hearing the movement, she didn’t turn around, merely asking in a raspy voice, “Qiaoqiao, you’re back? Finished the laundry?”

“Yes, all done, Third Sister-in-law,” Li Qiaoqiao replied, stepping to the water vat to scoop some water to wash her hands.

Only then did Liu turn around. She held a handful of dried beans she had just fished out of a clay basin; the beans were swollen, having soaked up plenty of water.

Her withered, branch-like hands drained the water from the beans before tossing them into a steaming iron pot nearby.

The water in the pot was already at a rolling boil. The beans went in with a series of bubbling thuds.

“How is Tieniu? I heard Mother grumbling at noon, saying he had a fever again?” Liu stirred the beans with a ladle, casting a glance at Li Qiaoqiao.

The dim firelight danced across her face, her eyes holding a trace of hidden inquiry.

Li Qiaoqiao walked to the cutting board, picked up a chipped kitchen knife, and began chopping wild greens from a nearby basket.

The blade hit the thick wooden block with a rhythmic, dull thud.

“He drank a bowl of ginger sugar water, broke a sweat, and is sleeping soundly now. Mother is watching over him in the room.” Her tone was flat, revealing no emotion.

“Oh, Mother is watching him…” Liu’s hand paused for a moment, seemingly surprised, before returning to its usual pace. “That’s good. With Mother there, you can relax a bit. Sigh, Tieniu has never been the sturdiest child since he was little. Now that winter is here, he’s coming down with something every other day.”

She let out a heavy sigh that sounded like a stone dropping into boiling water.

“You should put in more effort, Qiaoqiao. Even though… Well, you two did grow up together. Tieniu might be a bit slow, but look at him—how many young men in this village can match his looks? Clean-cut, with features so well-defined.”

As she spoke, Liu stole a quick glance at Li Qiaoqiao. Seeing the girl focused on her chopping, her profile looking exceptionally calm in the firelight, Liu continued her rambling:

“A woman’s lot is to follow her husband, no matter who he is. That’s just fate. Look at your Third Brother—isn’t he just a silent log? But haven’t we endured the days one by one? Don’t aim too high. A stable life is better than anything else. Don’t mind those gossips outside; just focus on living your own life.”

The rhythmic sound of chopping never wavered. Li Qiaoqiao’s knife rose and fell, the pile of greens growing taller.

However, her heart felt as though it were stuffed with wet cotton—heavy and suffocating.

Liu’s words sounded like comfort and guidance, but every sentence was a calculated strike.

She wasn’t deaf to the village gossip—”What a pity for a girl as pretty as Qiaoqiao to be paired with a fool,” “That child-bride of the fourth Wu son is destined to be a ‘living widow’,” “Zhang Jinhua is so sharp-featured and cruel, she might sell the girl for cash one day.”

Liu’s decision to bring this up today was clearly a test, a warning based on the rumors she had heard.

Li Qiaoqiao lifted her eyes, forcing a submissive, fatalistic smile onto her face. “Third Sister-in-law is right. Tieniu-ge treats me well; he doesn’t hit or scold me. Mother has a sharp tongue but a soft heart. I’ll just work harder and try not to upset her.”

Seeing her submissive manner, the doubt in Liu’s mind seemed to dissipate, and her expression relaxed. “It’s good that you think that way. What do we women seek? Isn’t it just stability? You’re diligent and quick with your hands; Mother will eventually come to appreciate you.”

She stirred the boiling beans, the rising steam blurring her expression. “As for the Eldest Sister-in-law, don’t take her to heart. Everyone in the village knows what her mouth is like. Just treat it like the wind passing your ear.”

Li Qiaoqiao sneered inwardly.

Wei-shi’s mouth wasn’t just “wind”; it was a poisoned needle aimed straight at Zhang Jinhua’s heart.

Zhang Jinhua already disliked her child-bride for being “dead weight” who couldn’t bear children (even though Tieniu was a fool). Wei-shi was constantly fanning the flames, saying things like, “Raising a money-loser is worse than selling her early for a few strings of coins.”

In the original book, they only sold her after Wu Tieniu died. But who knew if Zhang Jinhua would be swayed by Wei-shi to act earlier?

This threat hung over her head like a dull blade, day and night.

She didn’t take the bait regarding Wei-shi. Instead, she gathered the chopped greens into a chipped earthenware basin and asked, “Third Sister-in-law, how long have these beans been boiling? Is it time to add the rice?”

“Oh, right, right! Look at my memory.” Liu snapped out of it and hurriedly uncovered a clay jar with a wooden lid containing washed coarse rice. “When the water boils, put the rice in, stir it evenly, and cover it to simmer. Don’t let the fire get too big, or it’ll burn the bottom.”

She directed Li Qiaoqiao, watching as the girl deftly poured the rice into the bubbling bean soup, stirred it a few times with a long-handled ladle, and replaced the lid.

The kitchen fell into a temporary silence, filled only with the sound of the beans and rice bubbling in the pot and the crackle of firewood in the hearth.

Both women were preoccupied with their own thoughts.

Li Qiaoqiao crouched down and added two thin sticks of wood to the fire. The flames licked the bottom of the pot, reflecting in her eyes like a shifting light.

“Qiaoqiao,” Liu’s voice broke the silence as she bent over to pull salted pickles from a jar in the corner. “When the food is ready, serve some to Mother and Tieniu first. Mother has been on guard all day; she must be hungry. And if Tieniu wakes up, he can have something warm to eat.”

“Yes, I understand, Third Sister-in-law,” Li Qiaoqiao replied.

As the rice finished simmering, a wave of steam smelling of beans and grain made the pot lid rattle.

Li Qiaoqiao lifted the lid and stirred. The rice grains had absorbed the water, becoming plump and soft, mixing with the boiled beans into a thick, hearty porridge.