Chapter 11 I've transmigrated, so I should do as the Romans do.
"We've heard about what happened in your family, young lady. What are your plans now?"
Song Li smiled helplessly.
She's made such a big fuss today, now everyone in the village, whether they're from here or not, knows.
"I'm sorry you had to see this."
“We also rent houses in the village. The houses are big and the backyard is empty. Why don’t you bring your younger sister to live here?”
Song Li was slightly surprised. Could this old lady be trying to become a sub-landlord and ask her to move in and share the rent?
These three are so meticulous in their planning, and they really know how to convincingly pretend to be refugees!
"Thank you for your kindness, ma'am. We have a place to stay."
When the original owner was a child, she had a family. Before Song Da was conscripted into the army, she had her own house and did not live with Song Lao Er's family.
It's time for her to take Song Xiaoxiao back to her real home and start a new life.
Meng Yun was surprised that Song Li would refuse, and a hint of disappointment flashed across his eyes.
But considering the differences between men and women, it's not appropriate to force them to live together.
After seeing Aunt Zhao off, Song Li went back to the livestock shed to pack her clothes and then set off with Song Xiaoxiao towards the original owner's former home.
But as I walked along, I felt more and more that something was wrong.
This road was clearly traveled not long ago!
But the original owner of this body hadn't been home for ten years, and she had only been in this body for two days. That's impossible, isn't it?
When they arrived at the Zhao family's door, they met Zhao's mother, who had come out to pour water.
Song Li: "..."
So this was the original owner's home! No wonder it looked so familiar to her this morning!
Song Li's face darkened instantly: "Auntie, who rented this house to you?"
...
As luck would have it, the person who rented the house to the Zhao family was none other than Niu San.
Song Li entrusted Song Xiaoxiao to Old Man Zhao's care, and then rushed directly into Niu San's house.
Niu San had just returned from seeing patients in town. His shoulder was wrapped in gauze, and he was leaning back in his chair, resting. When he saw her come in, he asked warily, "What are you doing here?"
Song Li asked, "Tell me, how did my house end up in your hands?"
Niu San casually made up a story: "Your dad couldn't pay off his gambling debts back then, so he sold his house and land to me..."
Click!
There was a walnut on the table, which Song Li crushed into powder.
Just then, a gust of wind blew through the room, and Niu San watched helplessly as the powder was blown away by the wind and disappeared without a trace.
The excruciating pain from the stone embedded in his bone that morning swept over Niu San once again. His body tensed, his back went cold, and he broke out in a cold sweat.
"You, you, don't do anything reckless! I haven't offended you..."
He felt uneasy, and his voice was weak.
She knew perfectly well whether she had offended him or not, but the old Song Daya was like a block of wood, never caring or getting angry, so he acted recklessly.
Song Li's face was ashen: "Then you should confess honestly."
Fifteen minutes later, Song Li came out of Niu San's house, feeling terrible.
Niu San told her that he did not buy Song Da's house and land deeds from Song Lao's second-hand house, but rather it was a legitimate transaction done at a real estate agency in town.
“Your house is in a good location. It’s on high ground so it won’t flood when it rains, and there are fertile fields right outside. So the soil in the yard must be good too. Everything you plant will thrive. I bought it eight or nine years ago,” Niu San said.
Song Li frowned. If Niu San bought Song Da's house eight or nine years ago, it meant that Song Lao Er had disposed of the house even earlier.
It's even possible that Song Da had already hatched these wicked plans before he was conscripted into the army.
Song Li experienced the malice of this world for the nth time.
The first time was when I first arrived and discovered I had been sold.
The second time was when the whole village joined together to accuse her of being disobedient and unfilial;
The third time was...
Sigh, ancient makeup and costumes were beautiful, but life in ancient times was truly unbearable! Especially for someone like her who had no power, no influence, and no parents!
Song Li sighed.
With nowhere else to go, Song Li habitually came to the Zhao family's house. By the time she realized it, the person had already entered the courtyard.
That's strange. She should have gone to settle accounts with Song Lao Er first.
However, it was already getting dark, and it seemed like the wrong time to go.
Inside the kitchen, Aunt Zhao was setting out dinner.
The villagers were poor, so they tried to avoid turning on the lights at night. Therefore, the villagers would finish their dinner in the evening and go to sleep as soon as night fell.
The saying "to work at sunrise and rest at sunset" describes this kind of work-rest schedule.
The "Zhao family" clearly adapted to local customs.
Song Li thought for a moment and then went into the kitchen.
Now that she has traveled through time, she should adapt to local customs.
The dining table was set up in the center of the room, with a large bowl of millet porridge, a stack of black flatbreads, and a dish of pickled mustard greens cut into shreds.
Children from poor families mature early, and Song Xiaoxiao obediently became a little helper, setting the table and calling him "Uncle Zhao" and "Aunt Zhao" sweetly. Meng Yunmingyue's eyes crinkled with laughter.
Who wouldn't love such an adorable little girl?
Besides, Meng Yun's real family is full of boys, and he has always wanted a daughter.
"You're back! Let's eat first," Mingyue greeted Song Li with a smile.
Zhao Youchang was injured and unable to come out for a meal, so Song Li took the initiative to bring the food to his room.
On the surface, the three members of the Zhao family appear to be parents and son, and they certainly act convincingly, but she had a gut feeling that Zhao Youchang was the one who truly held the reins.
Song Li knocked on the door twice, neither too hard nor too softly.
A soft voice came from inside the room: "Come in."
Song Li pushed open the door and carried the food inside.
The golden sunset shone into the room through the small window, illuminating half of the fake face of the man sitting on the bed by the window. Under the intense contrast of light and shadow, his features were three-dimensional and his bone structure was prominent. Judging from her eyes, which had studied cosmetic medicine, this human skin mask looked as fake as could be.
Song Li lowered her eyes, deliberately avoiding looking at his face.
Zhao Youchang was focused on wiping the arrows, but out of the corner of his eye he was secretly observing the thin figure in front of him.
He recalled Meng Yun's report: "She is from this village, fifteen years old. Her father joined the army when she was five, and her mother remarried six months later. She has a younger sister who was raised by Song Er and He Shi."
It's the same old trick; just like him, no flaws can be found.
Is this background true?
Zhao Youchang's eyes flickered slightly.
"What are you doing?" Song Li asked, placing the bowl and chopsticks on the rickety table.
"It's getting cold, and it's going to snow in the next few days. I plan to go to the mountains to hunt some game to sell for money to get through the winter."
The fact that he could make such a plan shows that his injuries are no longer a serious problem.
Song Li let out a silent "hmm".
First, the incredible skill of ancient people in treating injuries was unexpected.
Er also felt that this guy was really into his role, always remembering the character he was playing—his public identity was a refugee fleeing famine, penniless, so he had to be constantly planning for his livelihood.
However, seeing that this guy spoke gently, Song Li felt relieved and naturally had no interest in asking about the details of the hunt.
After coming out of the house, Song Li discussed the rent with Aunt Zhao—they agreed on one hundred coins a month. Since the Zhao family still owed her five hundred coins, this half-year period was essentially free.
After dinner, Song Li took Song Xiaoxiao to the backyard.
The house was a thatched hut, small and dilapidated, less than a tenth the size of Song Lao Er's brick house. Inside, there was only a bed, a table, and a wardrobe, but it was at least a place to stay.
"Come on, spread this out."
Song Li opened the cabinet and took out the bedding to lay out for Song Xiaoxiao.
Cotton didn't seem to be widely available at that time, and quilts were filled with reeds and straw, but they were soft and thick.
If we dig a hearth in the house tomorrow, build a frame, bury the fire underneath, and hang a ceramic pot to boil water on top, we shouldn't get cold.
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