Chapter 1: Choosing a Husband

Du Shanü, you must bring home a husband today!

You are sixteen; according to our Southern Yin law, if you do not marry, your taxes will be doubled.

Moreover, your parents and brothers are dead, the world is in such chaos, how can a household without a man to look after it survive? Just listen to your Seventh Uncle and go pick a……

The old village head Huang of Zhangpu Village stood at the Du family gate, repeatedly tapping the ground with his cane, earnestly advising the beautiful maiden dozing on the rattan chair.

Today is the day the county sends out refugees.

Since a few years ago, the northern barbarians relied on "fire oil" to seize the capital of the Yin Dynasty, kill the Young Emperor, and drive the original Han people southward, the world has become divided into two halves.

In the north lies the barbarians' court, Bei Mo.

In the south, after the Young Emperor's death, the false Southern Yin dynasty is administered by Chancellor Yuan Lang acting as regent.

Under the regency of Emperor Yuan, the Southern Yin year after year cedes land and pays indemnities, kneels and bows to the northerners, calling itself the child emperor, yet still suffers occasional southern raids by the barbarians.

Consequently, the vital energy is greatly depleted, and refugees have become a scourge.

The local county devised a plan: any refugees who reach Cangnan County, whether male or female, are sent to the countryside to allow bachelors without wives and women widowed by war to freely choose, settle, and assimilate, preventing refugee uprisings.

Furthermore, an edict was issued stating that any family able to bear six or more children will receive annually one tael of "supplement" from the government.

After half a year of this, all the bachelors in the village have taken wives, and the women widowed by war have also acquired new husbands.

Yet the number of refugees far exceeds those available to marry……

The old village head sighed repeatedly, while Du Shanü felt a complex mix of emotions——

Only last night did I transmigrate here, having just sorted my thoughts, and today I must simply pick up a husband?

Is it really unacceptable to refuse?

I, who spent decades studying in cold rooms, pursued research all the way to a doctorate, becoming the youngest academician in science and engineering, daily struggling over blueprints, have hardly ever touched a man's hand—where have I ever seen such a scene?

Ordinary people might excuse it, but as a progressive youth of the new era, could I truly take advantage of others' misfortune to select a husband?

……Yes.

I can!

In my previous life I worked myself to death, often forced to work overtime for ten-plus days straight; after finally preparing to leave that den and go into business at sea, I was so overjoyed that my mind went blank and I was hit by a car, dying and transmigrating to this dynasty, yet I have not enjoyed a single day of life.

Now those fleeting glories are like passing clouds; why can't I choose a broad-shouldered, narrow-waisted, long-legged man who can work and warm the bed, bringing him home to live a good life?

Although conditions are now poor—father, elder brother, and younger brother all died in battle, mother succumbed to illness, we can truly be called destitute, the house holds no fields, only a thatched hut……

But as long as people remain, what cannot be achieved by our own hands?

I had already sorted my thoughts early on; here there is no gunpowder, no glass, let alone soap, smelting, or crude salt refinement……

For a transmigrator, it is as clean as a blank sheet of paper.

With such a heaven‑given environment, the science‑and‑engineering girl fears nothing about starting from scratch!

Du Shanü slowly rose from the creaking old rattan chair; seeing her stand, the old village head's white beard trembled, and he immediately let out a breath:

"Exactly! That's how it should be!"

"Uncle told you, marriage has its benefits—although you can no longer look at beautiful maidens, the silver you earn each day must still be turned over, you must first provide food, clothing, shelter, and travel for your wife and children, and from time to time you may even be dragged out and scolded across the street for hiding private money……"

The old village head spoke softer and softer, Du Shanü and he stared at each other.

After a few breaths, the old village head gritted his teeth:

"But there are always benefits!"

Hey hey hey!

Did you just let the secret slip?

Du Shanü stared at the old village head without speaking; he felt embarrassed and could only continue urging:

"Hurry to the village entrance and take a look—it won't cost you anything; this time the newcomers are all tall and sturdy, quite handsome, Uncle has specially reserved them for you, just pick whichever you like!"

Handsome?

Du Shanü's eyes lit up, and she suddenly felt capable again:

"Thank you, Uncle—I'll go right away; if I return early, I'll still make it in time for dinner."

The old village head was stunned——

These days he has also brought many village men and women to meet the refugees; most are shy and furtive, glancing briefly then blushing as they agree.

Yet how did it come to pass that, when facing his own niece‑granddaughter here, she looks rather delighted?

……

"Ah, only six?"

When Du Shanü arrived at the village entrance full of anticipation, she saw in the distance, aside from the squad leader constable, only six ragged men……

To be precise, there were five men and one obviously shorter fellow, no more than eight or nine years old—a little bean.

It cannot be said that the old village head was wrong, but it is completely at odds with what he meant by "freely choose".

I said as much!

If there were something good, how could it possibly fall to me, and there isn't even a single onlooker at the village entrance!

Du Shanü clicked her teeth and did not move forward; the constable guarding the refugees saw her from afar and waved his whip, shouting:

"I just told your village head to go back and call people—why did only you come?"

Du Shanü did not reply; the constable, probably annoyed by this tedious duty, furrowed his brow and beckoned:

"Never mind, hurry over and pick."

"These are already the last few; the county office has no more grain to feed them, so the sooner we finish, the sooner we save trouble—I still have to send the remainder to the Manufacture Bureau."

The three words "Manufacture Bureau" alone carry weight.

Since ancient times, refugees have been a major headache for rulers; now the north is fierce, many refuse to enlist, and the authorities dare not hastily form a refugee army for fear of its size inviting rebellion, thus besides settling and dispersing them among the populace, the only remaining destination is the Manufacture Bureau.

The Manufacture Bureau is the government's forced labor corps, essentially slaves.

They build city walls, river dikes, quarry stone, dig mines; because the work is truly arduous, once sent there, most die within two years.

So, as soon as these words were spoken, among the refugees beside the yamen runner, several people immediately showed frightened and uneasy looks, and they scrambled to speak, saying:

"Pick me! Pick me!"

"I eat little!"

"Don't look at my lame leg, I can work!"

They had obviously undergone several rounds of selection and were very familiar with the process.

But this couldn't make up for their defects——

One lame, one disfigured, one overly frail, one old, one too young......

And also, a blind person?

Du Shanü was roughly dissatisfied, but perhaps it was a fortunate coincidence brought by the spring breeze; the blind person sensed her gaze and happened to turn his face.

In a moment of carelessness, she happened to see his full face——

That was a person unlike the others, the only one who did not plead, standing silently the whole time leaning against the shadow of the locust tree at the village entrance.

He held a folding fan upside down in his hand, and on his face was a strip of plain cloth three fingers wide, covering his eyes.

The edge of the plain cloth was frayed and stained with much blood, yet it still could not cover his pale lips, a silver mark below them, and the slender line of his jaw.

Several strands of black hair fell from the edge of the cloth, sticking to his sweaty neck.

Despite his disheveled appearance, that half-face was like broken jade porcelain, revealing a fragile elegance amidst the filth.

His whole person was like a dimly flickering lamp about to go out.

Du Shanü narrowed her eyes, carefully savoring a few breaths, then suddenly blew a hooligan's whistle:

Sou—

This beauty, I think you seem to have some childhood family trauma……

You might as well come home with me; I can listen well, but what I will do after listening, you know.

?? New author new book, please give lots of support~ Thank you very much~(*^▽^*)

? The original title of this book is 《I Never Play by the Rules》, it's an anti-trope work! It won't disappoint everyone!!