The sound of a woman's painful cries reached her ears, and the strong scent of blood at the tip of her nose filled Song Jinzhao with unease.
She opened her eyes, staring blankly at the old, backward wooden roof above her head. The thick roof beams were clearly pitted with wormholes.
The cries suddenly stopped, followed immediately by the weak cry of a baby.
The memories in Song Jinzhao's mind tumbled and spun, flashing before her eyes like slides.
After breathing rapidly for a moment, her eyes suddenly widened in realization. She looked around at the mottled mud walls and the simple furnishings in the room, never imagining she would time-travel.
The sharp, bloody maw of the mutant beast seemed still before her eyes, but this was not the apocalypse; there were no monsters that fed on human flesh.
The midwife came out of the room holding the child, a trace of sympathy in her voice: "It's a boy. The child's mother hemorrhaged and is already gone."
The courtyard fell silent for a moment. Two children immediately ran into the room. Seeing the lifeless woman on the bed, tears streamed uncontrollably from their eyes.
"Mother~"
They leaned over the bedside, clutching the woman's still-warm arm and shaking it, trying to wake her up.
Song Jinzhao walked from the adjacent room into the main room. The woman lying on the bed was this body's mother; the two children by the bedside were the original host's younger brother and sister from the same mother.
Old Lady Song walked in holding the swaddled infant. Seeing Song Jinzhao standing at the doorway, a flicker of pleasant surprise passed through her saddened eyes.
"Jinzhao, you're awake! How are you feeling?"
Song Jinzhao lowered her eyes and shook her head unnaturally, worried she might be discovered as an imposter.
Imitating the original host's tone of speech, she answered, "Grandmother, I'm fine."
The original host had been bitten by a poisonous snake while gathering wild vegetables yesterday and had fainted at the foot of the mountain. She was carried back by a village woman who happened to pass by.
A doctor was called, but he said she couldn't be saved and told the family to prepare for the funeral. The original host's mother refused to give up and insisted the doctor prescribe medicine.
She had kept vigil by the bedside all night, afraid her daughter would die. Yet, misfortune never comes singly. Two hours ago, Oldest Song and Second Song had carried the corpse of the original host's father back from Xining City.
The double blow caused Song's mother to go into premature labor, and the whole family rushed to fetch the midwife.
In the chaos, the original host ultimately didn't survive the snake venom and died quietly in the adjacent room.
Hearing her voice, Song Qiming and Song Shixue, their faces streaked with tears and snot, turned around as if they had suddenly found someone to rely on.
They ran over, grabbed Song Jinzhao's clothes, and buried their faces against her.
"Elder Sister, Mother is dead. We have no mother now."
Losing both parents on the same day was a heavy blow for ten-year-old children, leaving them like duckweed floating on water, unsure what to do.
Song Jinzhao had no parents; she grew up in an orphanage and had never experienced familial love.
Faced with the dependence of these two children, however, a feeling of wanting to protect them arose in her heart.
Could this be the natural instinct brought by blood ties?
Song Jinzhao's eyes grew slightly moist. She somewhat awkwardly stroked her younger brother and sister's heads, comforting them in a firm tone: "Don't be afraid. Your elder sister is here."
In her past life, she had envied classmates who had parents and family. Now, she suddenly had three younger siblings. This feeling didn't seem bad at all.
Old Lady Song looked at the three of them, then down at the infant in her arms.
The midwife had said this child would be hard to raise. And now, with Third Song and his wife both dead, how were they going to survive from now on?
She handed the child to Song Jinzhao: "Take your brother, lead Qiming and Shixue outside. Your two aunts and I need to clean up and prepare your mother."
The weather was hot. Third Song's corpse was still lying in the courtyard. Old Man Song, worried it would start to smell, decided to bury him today.
Song Jinzhao gently bounced the child in her hands. She was a medical professional. Normally, an eight-month-old male infant should weigh four to five pounds, but this child weighed at most three pounds.
Before long, the courtyard was filled with people. Villagers, hearing news of the deaths, came one after another to help with the funeral arrangements.
They whispered among themselves from time to time, their glances towards Song Jinzhao, Song Qiming, and the others carrying the same sympathy as the midwife's.
The bodies were wrapped in straw mats, placed into thin coffins pieced together from wooden planks, and carried to the foot of the mountain behind the village for burial.
Two fresh graves had already been dug at the mountain's foot. Oldest Song, Second Song, and others lowered the coffins into the pits.
Song Jinzhao, holding her infant brother and with Song Qiming and Song Shixue, knelt before the graves. Hearing the mournful weeping nearby, she couldn't help but shed a few tears of her own.
After the burial, two blackened wooden planks were stuck into the earth, bearing simple inscriptions chiseled with an iron rod.
"You take your younger siblings home first," Old Man Song instructed Song Jinzhao before heading towards the old house without another word. Oldest Song and Second Song exchanged a glance and quickly followed with their wives.
There were four children left; a solution had to be found.
Song Jinzhao watched the Song family leave. Song Qiming and Song Shixue gripped her hands nervously and softly called, "Elder Sister."
Song Jinzhao looked at the sleeping baby in the swaddling clothes and started walking home. "Elder Sister will take you home."
The Song family was very poor. Everyone had sallow skin, their bones protruding where there was little flesh, a picture of malnutrition.
Losing two laborers at once, with four children all underage, Old Man Song was surely going to discuss their future.
In the old Song house, Old Man Song looked gravely at his two sons: "Third Song's family still has four children. You are their uncles. Each family should take in two."
Hearing this, Second Song immediately began to complain: "Father, you know our family's situation. Yaozu never has enough to eat as it is. Adding two more mouths at once, how could we possibly afford it?"
Second Aunt Song chimed in: "Father, you and mother live with Eldest Brother, so you can help them every day. We already have three children of our own. Adding two more, I simply can't manage. If we really must take someone in, our family will take Jinzhao. Eldest Brother's family has fewer children; they should take one more."
The Second Uncle and Aunt were clear that they couldn't avoid taking in any of the four children. Since that was the case, the fewer, the better.
Elder Aunt Song turned her head and glared at her sister-in-law: "Jinzhao is fourteen this year. In two years, she'll be old enough to marry. What care would she need from you? If you take Jinzhao, you must take the youngest one too and care for him together."
Taking only the oldest girl among the four children—someone who could work at home and in two years be married off for a bride price—was a pretty clever scheme.
Second Aunt Song grew anxious. "No, a newborn needs constant, round-the-clock care. A premature baby's health is poor to begin with. If he unfortunately dies young, outsiders will think it was because we didn't care for him properly."
"The midwife said even if he can be raised, he'll be dependent on medicine for life. How much silver would that cost? Our family can't afford it."
Oldest Song retorted angrily: "You know he needs constant care. Jinzhao is the oldest and can just take care of the youngest. They must go together."
Second Song frowned, narrowed his eyes, and said discontentedly, "Jinzhao will be married in two years. She can only take care of him for two years at most. What good is that?"
Old Man Song listened to his eldest and second son's families arguing endlessly before him, feeling both irritated and deeply troubled.
A newborn was indeed difficult to care for, especially a sickly one.
He made a gruff decision: "Jinzhao is sensible and can work. There will be a bride price when she marries later. Whoever takes Jinzhao must take the youngest too. You choose."
The first wife and the second wife both fell silent at the same time.
A ten-year-old child could work and be raised without too much effort, but they ate a lot and were already old enough to remember things, making them hard to truly win over.
The youngest, born prematurely, was the most troublesome and costly to raise, yet they would gain a daughter who would marry out in a couple of years. When that time came, not only would there be a bride price, but she might also send gifts back during festivals.
