I Crossed Over with My Enemy, Only to Find Him Running the Empire - Chapter 7

Chapter 7: Give It Back to Me

The room fell silent again.

Li Qiaoqiao held her breath, her knuckles white as she gripped the straw, nearly snapping the stalks in half. She waited for her mother-in-law to make the final call.

“That Landlord Zhang… is he looking for a concubine, or is he buying her for something else?” Zhang Jinhua asked hesitantly, her voice low and tinged with unease.

“What he wants her for isn’t your concern! It’s a death contract anyway. Once she crosses their threshold, she’s their slave to use as they please. It’s better than her eating our food for free! You—”

Creeeeak—

The harsh sound of the courtyard gate opening exploded through the air.

Li Qiaoqiao’s heart leaped into her throat, nearly scaring the wits out of her. It was the second brother coming back with water!

There was no time to listen further.

Like a rabbit, she hunched her back and used the cover of two withered jujube trees in the corner of the yard to slip back into her room.

Bang! She shut the wooden door behind her and leaned against it, gasping for air. The few stalks of straw in her hand were mangled beyond recognition, shedding withered bits onto the floor.

On the earthen bed in the corner, a figure wrapped in a tattered quilt stirred. Wu Ya pulled back the corner of the blanket covering his head, revealing a face that looked dazed from sleep.

“You’re back?” Wu Ya rubbed his eyes, his voice raspy. “Get the rope?”

His gaze landed on the broken straw in her hand.

Li Qiaoqiao didn’t answer immediately. She strode to the bed and threw the useless straw at his feet. Her chest was still heaving, her face flushed with fury. Facing this man—her nominal husband here and her legally wedded husband from the modern world—she dumped everything she had overheard.

“…They want to sell me! A death contract! Five tales of silver—two to buy you a new wife to carry on the family line!”

She lowered her voice, each word squeezed out through gritted teeth, sharp as ice. “The remaining three tales are going straight into the bookbag of Mrs. Wei’s precious scholar son! That woman’s heart is blacker than a soot-covered stove, and your mother? I’d bet she’s already convinced!”

She glared at him, her eyes like knives cutting into Wu Ya’s innocent-looking face. “You’re quite the catch, aren’t you? Sell your wife and get a fresh one to serve you. What a lucky ‘idiot’ you are!”

Wu Ya’s expression gradually darkened under her barrage of accusations. When he heard the phrase “buy a new one,” his lip twitched.

He threw off the quilt, sat up straight in his patched cotton jacket, and stared into the dying embers of the hearth. The last of the charcoal glowed a faint, dull red, casting shifting shadows across half his face.

“Oh?” Wu Ya uttered a single, emotionless syllable. He patted the edge of the bed. “Sit down and talk.”

Li Qiaoqiao didn’t move. She remained standing, looking down at him.

Wu Ya didn’t insist. He leaned back against the mud wall and licked his dry, cracked lips. After a moment of silence, as if weighing his options, he finally looked up and met her fiery gaze.

“In that case,” he said slowly, “you might as well give your half of the lock back to me.” He paused, emphasizing every word. “The meaning is obvious: I’ll go back by myself.”

Give it to him?

A surge of rage scorched her from her toes to the top of her head. She took a sharp step toward the bed, her dirty cloth shoes nearly stepping on his feet.

“Give it to you? Wu Ya! Open your damn eyes and look! This lock was handed to me by your grandfather on our wedding day! It’s mine! Its last name is Li, not Wu!”

Her voice shook with anger as she pointed at her chest. “I am your legal wife with the red marriage certificate! Don’t you dare think about taking it!”

As she spoke, a dangerous thought took root in her mind: Steal his half! While he’s off-guard! This “idiot” was a weakling right now. If she tied the halves together herself and it worked, she could ditch him here to be a “groom” to some new girl and have “idiot” babies!

Her eyes turned bloodshot as she stared at his chest, where his half of the lock was hidden…

Wu Ya looked at the bristling woman before him—who looked ready to tear him apart—and the mockery in his smile deepened.

“Right, the ‘red certificate’.” He nodded slowly, his eyes cold. “Thanks for the reminder. Modern certificates, feudal locks? Li Qiaoqiao, you really fit in everywhere, don’t you? Not wanting to lose out on either side. Living under a ‘death contract’… is that a new hobby of yours?”

“You—!” Li Qiaoqiao was momentarily speechless, glaring at him.

The air in the room seemed to solidify, save for the occasional pop of a spark in the hearth and the sound of their heavy breathing.

“Get the lock!”

Wu Ya broke the silence, his movements crisp. He fished a small, worn grey cloth bag from his tunic and carefully shook out his half of the lock. It was dark and cold to the touch.

Li Qiaoqiao, her heart still full of rage, gritted her teeth. With trembling fingers, she pulled a small cloth bundle from her inner pocket and shook out her half.

The moment the two pieces touched—Click—they snapped together perfectly.

Li Qiaoqiao cursed under her breath. She grabbed the straw stalks she’d brought from the backyard and plopped down on the dirt floor. Ignoring the cold and the filth, she rubbed the straw fiercely between her palms, as if grinding all her resentment into the fibers.

Two stalks weren’t strong enough, so she added two more. Her nails dug in as she merged the strands, her hands working with the same intensity she used to use for weaving “viral” handmade bracelets back home.

Twist! Harder!

She stared at the growing rope, her only thought being to make it indestructible. This time, she would bind it for good! Fine beads of sweat broke out on her forehead, mixing with the dust on her face to form streaks of mud.

Wu Ya watched her coldly, neither rushing her nor offering to help.

Once the rope took shape, he pushed the joined lock toward her on the floor. Li Qiaoqiao didn’t even look at him, her focus entirely on the cord. She wound it around the lock—once, twice, over and over.

The first loop—tight! The second—tighter! The third… the straw groaned as it bit into the grooves of the stone.

“Is it tight?” Wu Ya asked suddenly.

“Shut up!” Li Qiaoqiao snapped back without looking up, her breath coming in short gasps.

She finally yanked the final knot, bit off the excess straw with her teeth, and tied several more dead knots for good measure.

Neither of them spoke.

Gasping for air, Li Qiaoqiao carefully placed the lock on top of an old wooden chest in the corner—one that was missing a leg and covered in dust.

She backed away two steps, standing in the dimmest part of the room. Wu Ya stood up from the bed as well. Both were frozen, staring at that small bundle on the chest.

Slurp…

In the silence, a very faint, liquid sucking sound echoed.

Li Qiaoqiao’s brows knit together. Instinctively, she turned her head toward the sound.