Chapter 1: Mother will always be with you

A beam of moonlight shone through the dilapidated window, illuminating a woman's pale face.

She lay on her side, looking weakly at the dying infant in the swaddling clothes in her arms.

"Child, Mother can't hold on any longer. I'm sorry, I couldn't carry you to full term. Looking at you, I'm afraid you can't hold on either, right? Mother will go first and wait for you on the road to the Yellow Springs. Don't be afraid, Mother will always be with you."

She used the last of her strength to lean her head over, touched her lips to the infant's forehead, and a smile curled at the corners of her mouth. With infinite longing, she closed her eyes, let her arms drop, and rested her head on the straw, a single clear tear flowing from the corner of her eye.

Her chest stopped rising and falling, and her pale face instantly turned a grayish-white.

The little infant seemed to sense something and let out a low cry, as if trying to use all its strength to wake its mother and let the people outside hear them and come to their rescue, but there was no movement at all.

Perhaps it was the merit of the infant's crying, but the woman's chest began to rise and fall, and color returned to her face, though it remained pale.

Her eyes slowly opened. For just a fleeting moment, there was confusion, but her gaze immediately became calm, composed, and wise.

Her body remained in its original position, her eyes calmly surveying her surroundings, her gaze filled with unfamiliarity.

The original host was dead; that was a fact. So, who was this woman?

She was a top student from a prestigious university in the 21st century, seemingly soft and cute on the outside, but a true tomboy on the inside.

She was also a highly elite agent for a certain organization!

It was night, and this was a woodshed! She was currently lying on thick straw, the nighttime temperature was around ten degrees, yet she only had a thin quilt covering her.

Her body was weak, her stomach was painfully hungry, and there was discomfort in her lower body. What was this?

Just as her gaze was about to shift to the swaddling clothes in her arms, a headache struck.

She closed her eyes tightly and bit her lip, not making a sound. It took a long time before she opened them again, revealing an expression of disbelief.

Her gaze slowly moved toward the swaddling clothes. By the moonlight, she saw a small infant, red all over, its skin wrinkled, small, thin, and dry as a stick, its breathing weak—it looked like it was about to die.

At this moment, she didn't think much; she subconsciously closed her eyes, but even after closing them again, she didn't get the result she wanted.

An expression of annoyance appeared on her face. She had almost forgotten that she had transmigrated. She was no longer the top student from a prestigious university, nor the soft and cute girl everyone talked about, and certainly not an agent for a certain organization.

It was truly laughable to say. She had gone on a mission, returned just in time for the school's final exams, felt tired after finishing one subject, and took a nap on the desk, only to inexplicably end up here.

She had no time to think about the original host, nor time to think about anything else. The most important thing right now was to save this child. On such a cold night, with her and the child sleeping in a woodshed, given their current physical conditions, it was truly dangerous.

She once had a space ring, worn on the ring finger of her left hand. It was out of habit that she wanted to take the child into that space.

She raised her left hand in the moonlight, staring fixedly at the hand that looked like a chicken claw—black, dirty, and wrinkled.

Her gaze moved to her ring finger. Confirmed: no ring. She was unwilling to accept it, wishing she could stare a hole through her ring finger.

Where was the space ring? Could it have vanished in the transmigration?

Without it, the mother and child were as good as dead.

Just as she was about to give up, she discovered that on the pitch-black finger, there seemed to be a faint, vague pattern.

At this moment, any germaphobia was gone. She brought her ring finger to her mouth and spat a mouthful of saliva onto it.

Then, she scrubbed her ring finger hard against the quilt. The quilt cover, made of coarse cloth and patches, was truly effective; after just a few scrubs, the chicken-claw-like finger had turned a bit whiter.

When she held her hand up to her eyes again and saw that familiar pattern, as if it were tattooed onto her finger, she grinned.

Truly good, old partner, you are still here. Heaven has not forsaken me.

She gently kissed the pattern with her lips. Thinking of the scene when she first activated it, she didn't hesitate to bite down on the finger with the pattern.

Fresh blood immediately welled up and was entirely absorbed by the pattern.

The blood-sated pattern flashed. She knew the ring had been activated.

She hurriedly picked up the swaddling clothes with both hands and, with a single thought, appeared inside the space.

This space was about one mu in size. In the center stood a house, and the rest of the area was filled with large shelves, on which various items were placed—row upon row, column upon column, very neatly. These were all her collections.

Too good, they were all here. Heavens, I thank you, you haven't cut off my path!

Right now, she was relying on sheer willpower to hold her body up. This body was already at the end of its rope, and the child was the same.

Entering the house, there was a bed, a wardrobe, a bookcase, and a desk. The walls were covered with all kinds of advanced weapons.

Ignoring everything else, she gently placed the child in her arms onto the bed and then ran to the shelves to search.

Milk powder, a bowl, hot water, a small spoon—she quickly grabbed these items and immediately brewed a large bowl of cow's milk, then carried it to the bedside.

She tested a sip of the milk; it was neither too hot nor too cold. She then carefully scooped up a spoonful and gently brought it to the little one's mouth.

Tilting it, she slowly poured it into its slightly open little mouth.

Watching the infant swallow, she let out a long sigh of relief. She had been truly afraid that this premature baby wouldn't have the ability to swallow. She fed it one small mouthful at a time.

A newborn baby shouldn't be fed too much. Seeing it was about enough, she drank the remaining milk in the bowl in one gulp.

The baby seemed to have fallen asleep, and its breathing had become normal. She reached out and touched the little one's forehead—body temperature normal!

The temperature in the space was suitable. Hopefully, she could survive and live on.

After finishing with the infant, she finally thought of herself.

She went back to the shelves, found some ready-to-eat food, sat down right there, tore open the packaging, and stuffed it into her mouth frantically, not caring if her hands were dirty.

This body was truly too hungry. If she hadn't been holding on to that breath of willpower to take care of the child first, she would have collapsed long ago.

Fortunately, after feeding the child, she had drunk almost a whole bowl of milk, which gave her some strength to look for food.

When her stomach was about fifty or sixty percent full, she slowed down, eating while organizing the memories in her brain.

The original host was named Qiao Mai, married into the Old Tian family in Taohua Village. This Tian family had three sons and one daughter, all of whom were married.

Qiao Mai married the youngest son of the Tian family, Tian Sanzhuang. Not long after they were married, Tian Sanzhuang went off to serve in the military. When Tian Sanzhuang was around, Qiao Mai's life was still somewhat bearable.

Once he left, Qiao Mai began living a life like hell.

She and Tian Sanzhuang originally had a room to sleep in, but ever since her husband left, she was driven to the woodshed by her mother-in-law.

The vacated room was given to her eldest grandson, the eldest son of the first branch, to live in.

Regardless of winter or summer, she only had that one tattered quilt to cover herself with, not even a pillow.

She had to get up before dawn to feed the pigs, feed the chickens, and sweep the courtyard. She couldn't sit at the table for meals, just squatting in the courtyard to drink a bowl of rice soup or noodle soup to get by.

The rest of the time was spent going outside to chop wood, gather pig feed, dig wild vegetables, and work in the fields. Fortunately, she didn't have to do the kitchen work, or she would have been worked to death.

It wasn't that the Tian family was kind; it was that her mother-in-law was afraid she would steal food. In the Tian family, Qiao Mai was treated worse than a servant.

Just one month after Tian Sanzhuang left, she had morning sickness. Anyone with eyes could see she was pregnant, but the Tian family acted as if they didn't see it and continued to order her around as usual.

Not only did they make her work, but they also scolded her for no reason, saying the child in her belly was a bastard and not Tian Sanzhuang's.

In short, whenever they were angry, they took it out on her, saying the most horrible things.

To protect the child in her belly, Qiao Mai said nothing, just buried her head in her work.

The new book has started. I hope the babies who come by will leave a footprint, a handprint is fine too. Giving a five-star review would be even better. I wish you all good health and great wealth.

(End of chapter) ===== CHAPTER 2 =====