I Crossed Over with My Enemy, Only to Find Him Running the Empire - Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Survive First

“It’s useless…” Li Qiaoqiao slumped to the ground, the banana in her hand suddenly losing its appeal. “We can’t go back…”

“No! There must be a trigger!” Wu Ya stated firmly. “The first success happened right after our fight—our emotions were volatile, the lock accidentally joined, and we were physically close. The second failure happened because we moved apart, the lock separated, and we were forcibly pulled back! Just now, we kept joining it, but it was ineffective…”

He locked eyes with her. “The key isn’t just joining the pieces. It’s that when they are joined, we must be together and stay together! Our return just now was triggered because I turned at the door; the distance between us broke the connection!”

Li Qiaoqiao froze, her mind racing. “You mean the lock is like a switch? Close it while we’re together to ‘start’ the transmission? But if we separate, the switch flips off and we get bounced back to the origin? And the reason it’s not working now is because the switch has a cooldown? Like… once a day?”

“Exactly!”

Wu Ya’s eyes gleamed with clarity. “Furthermore, the failure caused by our separation proves the connection is fragile. Any slight external interference could pull them apart! That’s too dangerous. If we get another chance, we cannot repeat that mistake.”

His gaze swept the room like a searchlight, landing on a pile of ragged old clothes in the corner.

He strode over and grabbed the most tattered tunic, ripping off a long, sturdy strip of coarse fabric with a sharp grip.

Li Qiaoqiao understood his intent immediately. Her eyes lit up.

Wu Ya returned, holding his half of the lock and signaling her to hand over hers.

“Tie them,” he said. It was a command, but also the only logical solution.

“Bind them dead. Make it so they can’t be easily separated! Next time… if there is a next time, we join them and wrap them tight with this cloth. As long as we don’t move apart, the lock won’t break. We’ll have enough time!”

Li Qiaoqiao nodded and handed over her piece without a second thought.

Wu Ya moved efficiently, aligning the jagged edges and snapping them together. Then, he wound the cloth strip around the stones—once, twice, over and over—before pulling it into a tight, permanent knot.

Li Qiaoqiao looked down at her banana, then at Wu Ya’s red apple.

Her stomach, right on cue, let out another thunderous protest.

“To hell with it!” She peeled the banana aggressively and took a massive bite.

The sweet, soft flavor exploded on her tongue. It was so blissful she nearly cried.

Wu Ya remained silent, wiped his apple, and began to devour it.

For a moment, neither spoke. The only sounds were those of chewing and swallowing.

With something real in their stomachs, the lethal edge of their hunger finally dulled, even if they were far from full.

Li Qiaoqiao’s eyes drifted to the “stone lock bundle” on the floor. Wu Ya stared at it too, his gaze deep and unreadable.

“Try again?” she whispered, unable to let it go.

Wu Ya didn’t answer. He simply reached out and gripped one end of the lock.

Li Qiaoqiao’s hand gripped the other.

They held their breath and concentrated.

One second. Two seconds. … Ten seconds.

The shack remained silent. No reaction.

The light in Li Qiaoqiao’s eyes dimmed. Wu Ya pursed his lips, his expression dark, and finally let go.

“It seems the time isn’t right. Perhaps this thing can only be used once a day,” he said, his voice carrying a trace of exhaustion.

“Save your energy.” He leaned against the mud wall and closed his eyes. “Tomorrow, we continue to play the fool. Continue to fight for pig swill.”

He paused, his voice dropping to a decisive whisper. “Survive first. Survive until… the day this thing activates again.”

Just then, Zhang Jinhua’s shrill, grating voice pierced through the door.

“Fourth-branch daughter-in-law! Where have you gone to play dead? Waiting for a palanquin to fetch you? The dishes are piled high as a mountain! Are you waiting for me to wash them? If you dawdle until sunset, your skin must be itching for a beating!”

The voice sounded like a cracked gong. The original Li Qiaoqiao would have scurried out like a frightened quail.

But the soul inside had changed.

She rolled her eyes, turned toward the door, and yelled back with just enough volume to be heard: “I hear you! Coming!”

Her tone lacked respect, but it wasn’t overtly defiant enough to cause an immediate scene.

After shouting, she looked back at the empty bowl on the table. A spark of nameless anger flared up.

Why? Why did the “idiot” get a full bowl? Even if it was poor-quality grain, it was real food. While she, the one doing the labor, got watery dregs? Just because he was Zhang Jinhua’s darling son? The original owner’s life as a child bride was utterly pathetic.

The anger made her stomach feel hollow again. That bit of gruel earlier hadn’t even lined her stomach. She snatched up the empty bowl Wu Tieniu had used and—not caring if it was “dirty”—quickly licked the remaining residue from the rim.

At least Wu Ya was here. Even if he was a “dummy” in name, she wasn’t alone. As long as they could crack the secret of the Concentric Lock, there was hope.

So what if The Legend of Chancellor Canghai predicted a tragic end for the fourth branch?

The real Li Qiaoqiao was here now, with a “hidden boss” husband. She didn’t believe they couldn’t break this deadlock! She would survive until they could go back—or until she turned this damn plot upside down!

Feeling a bit more spirited, she patted her hands, stood up, and walked out toward the kitchen.

Wu Ya watched her go with cold eyes, saying nothing.

…

The kitchen was dim, smelling of leftovers and wood ash. The fire in the stove had died down to embers. The counter was a mess of greasy bowls and plates.

Zhang Jinhua stood there with her hands on her hips, her face as dark as the bottom of a pot.

The third sister-in-law, Mrs. Liu, was struggling to gather a stack of oily dishes into a wooden basin, her face etched with weariness.

“Dawdling! Are you a tortoise?” Zhang Jinhua spat as soon as Li Qiaoqiao entered, her saliva nearly hitting her face. “Look at this mountain of dishes! Are you waiting for the New Year? Get over here and take over!”