I Crossed Over with My Enemy, Only to Find Him Running the Empire - Chapter 9

Chapter 9: Only Cooperation

A tiny flicker of hope rose in Li Qiaoqiao’s heart as she rushed to help him.

Their heads nearly knocked together, fingers fumbling frantically through the tangled mess of the cloth strip. Being so close, she could smell the scent of “Wu Tieniu” on him. She felt a brief, awkward pang in her heart, but her hands didn’t stop.

The cloth strip was unraveled, loop by loop.

“Here.” Li Qiaoqiao handed over her half, her voice a bit dry.

Wu Ya took it. Each of them gripped their respective piece of dark bronze tightly. Their hearts were in their throats.

Li Qiaoqiao looked at Wu Ya’s equally tense face and took a deep breath. “Touch them again!”

With extreme caution, the edges of the two heavy lock pieces were pressed firmly together.

Vrrr…

The moment they touched, a microscopic tremor vibrated through their palms. It was incredibly faint, like the first drop of melting ice falling from a spring eave onto a stone step. But to two people focused with such intensity, it was as clear as a bell.

Li Qiaoqiao’s eyes widened as she looked at Wu Ya in disbelief. Wu Ya’s gaze sharpened instantly, meeting hers in a silent exchange of shock—there was a reaction! Small, but real!

Wu Ya’s knuckles turned white from the force of his grip, but his mind was racing. He lowered his voice, speaking rapidly, each word hitting Li Qiaoqiao’s frayed nerves:

“That move this morning was too big. It must have drained some kind of energy stored in the lock—like a dead battery. That’s why it didn’t matter how we touched them or tied them with straw afterward; it was useless! Now, after some time, perhaps a tiny bit of energy has recovered. Just enough for us to feel this vibration!”

Li Qiaoqiao’s modern common sense quickly grasped the “battery” metaphor. She asked urgently, “Then… Do we have to wait for a full charge? Tomorrow? The day after? If it runs out of… energy… aren’t we just wasting our time?”

A chill crawled up her spine.

Wu Ya’s eyes were as deep as a frozen pool. “It’s possible. But I felt it clearly—that connection only happens when we both hold our pieces together. It won’t work without either one of us!”

Boom!

That sentence hit Li Qiaoqiao like a thunderclap. She wanted to curse the heavens, but her throat felt blocked.

Could she steal it? Even if she snatched his half, what then? This cursed lock had a mind of its own; it recognized its owners! They had to be present together, each holding their own part, willing—or at least physically participating—for it to function.

They were bound together by these two pieces of scrap metal.

“A community with a shared future?” Li Qiaoqiao muttered the term instinctively, feeling the absurdity of it.

Wu Ya remained silent. His eyes, sharpened by years in the cutthroat business world, reflected the dim light and the woman sitting opposite him—a woman he now had to treat as a serious partner. Finally, he squeezed out the words through gritted teeth, each one heavy as lead:

“If we want to leave this place, we can only cooperate.”

Li Qiaoqiao didn’t say a word. She looked down, clutching her cold half of the lock so tightly it bruised her palm.

They climbed down from the earthen bed slowly. Li Qiaoqiao habitually tried to fix her torn sleeve, but she froze halfway, a sour, nameless anger rising in her chest. Wu Ya glanced at her bare left arm and frowned. Without a word, he walked to the chipped ceramic water vat in the corner, picked up a rough wooden ladle, scooped some cold water, and handed it to her.

“Wash your face,” he said flatly.

Li Qiaoqiao looked at his hand—the knuckles were thick, and dirt was trapped under his nails. It was a world away from the hands he used to have, which required regular manicures. She opened her mouth to snap a sarcastic remark, but the words died in her throat.

Forget it. They were both in the dirt now.

She took the ladle. The icy well water splashed onto her face, and the chill cleared her chaotic mind.

“Hey, Wu Ya,” she whispered quickly. “The house is on fire! Your sister-in-law, Wei, and your mother, Zhang Jinhua… they’re plotting to sell me to Landlord Zhang in town as a concubine to get a big pile of silver!”

Wu Ya’s brow furrowed. His “idiot son” face flickered with the gravity of a mature man.

“Sell you?” he whispered in disbelief. “They dare?”

“Why wouldn’t they?” Li Qiaoqiao sneered. “To them, I’m just livestock they bought. Selling me for a good price and getting rid of another mouth to feed is a win-win. Landlord Zhang is a notorious lecher, but he’s rich, and Wei is green with envy over his money!”

She paused, watching Wu Ya’s face turn grim. She decided to drive the point home: “Wu Ya, don’t forget we’re crickets on the same string. If I get sold into that Zhang family hellhole, I’m done for! And you? Do you think life as the resident ‘idiot’ will be easy? Zhang Jinhua dotes on you now because she thinks you’re easy to control. But once I’m gone and no one is covering for you…”

She stepped closer, her voice icy. “What do you think happens to a useless mouth in this house? They’ll think you’re possessed and burn you, or just find an excuse to let you starve. Remember our goal? To go back! Dying as cannon fodder in this dump is not the ending you want, is it?”

The words “cannon fodder” stung Wu Ya like needles. He clenched his fists until his knuckles turned white. Going back—it was his deepest obsession. He would not allow himself to fail in this farmyard before he even found the way home.

“No,” Wu Ya ground out. “We can’t just sit here and wait. I’ll go talk to my mother and clear things up!”

He started to head for the door, ready to have a showdown with Zhang Jinhua.

“Stop! Get back here!” Li Qiaoqiao lunged and grabbed his arm with surprising strength, yanking him back. She was almost laughing at his recklessness. “Big brother! Mr. Wu! Get a grip! Who are you right now? You’re Wu Tieniu, the idiot! If an idiot suddenly runs to his mother and logically says, ‘Don’t sell my wife,’ what do you think she’ll do? Her first reaction won’t be joy that her son is smart—it will be pure terror.”