The June afternoon sun blazed like a furnace, scorching the land underfoot.
"Ah, this heat is killing me," grumbled a group of men in official uniforms, sprawled under the sparse shade of trees by the desolate official road. They tugged at their sweat-soaked clothes, complaining incessantly.
Nearby, a group of raggedly dressed exiles huddled together in a patch of pitifully small shade, clinging to life like walking corpses.
A few guards cast sidelong glances at them, then looked up at the scorching sun. Their tempers, already simmering, flared uncontrollably.
The guard with the hottest temper grunted impatiently and yelled, "I'm telling you all, you're lucky today. If you dawdle any longer, be careful I don't let you taste the whip more often."
Hearing the guard's roar and seeing the whip dangling from his hand, the prisoners flinched, shrinking themselves, wishing they could disappear from sight.
Seeing their fear, the guards felt slightly better. They snorted coldly, leaned against the tree trunks, and closed their weary eyes, their snores soon filling the air.
With the guards no longer watching them, the exiled prisoners dared to shift slightly, creating a sliver of space between them, no longer so tightly packed.
...
When Fu Xin Ci woke up, she saw a setting sun slowly descending below the horizon.
Against the light, she stared blankly at the desolate and barren landscape before her, stunned.
She clearly remembered dying, stabbed through the chest with wood elemental power by that born scoundrel who wanted to steal her space.
But how to explain the scene before her?
She wanted to look down, to see if the bloody hole in her chest was still there.
However, before she could make another move, she heard an old and desperate cry beside her ear.
"Ci'er, Ci'er."
The aged voice held unbearable sadness, as if it had pierced through the ties of three thousand worldly affairs to reach her heart, making her own heart ache.
"Sister, boohoo." There was also the sobbing of a little toddler.
"…?"
Hearing the crying, Fu Xin Ci furrowed her brow, her heart plummeting to the bottom.
She was definitely dead, otherwise, why would she hear someone crying?
But then again, it didn't seem right. She wasn't quite sure what was wrong, as her mind was still fuzzy from just waking up, and she couldn't quite grasp it yet.
"Ci'er, Ci'er, can you open your eyes and look at your grandfather?" the old man's voice was filled with unspeakable sorrow and bitterness.
"Boohoo, Sister, hurry and wake up! Yu'er is scared." The trembling childish voice was filled with overwhelming fear and unease.
Fu Xin Ci was truly bewildered. The crying of the old man and the child was too real. Had she not died?
But why would there be an old man and a child in their mercenary group? Had her teammates found more survivors?
Thinking of this possibility, Fu Xin Ci felt a surge of excitement. But just then, a wave of heat washed over her, nearly suffocating her.
"Oh my god! How can it be this hot?" Fu Xin Ci grumbled silently.
Only then did she realize her clothes were soaked with sweat, sticking uncomfortably to her skin.
It was truly sweltering. Unable to bear it any longer, Fu Xin Ci reached out to tug at the sticky clothes.
However, the sight of a small, dark, dirty hand met her eyes, leaving her stunned once again as if struck by lightning.
Whose little black paw was this? How long had it been since they last washed their hands? As Fu Xin Ci was thinking this, a clear, young voice sounded, "Grandpa Meng, Sister Fu is alive, she's awake."
"Ah? Really?"
The old man's sorrowful cry stopped abruptly. After a moment, he exclaimed with great joy, "Ci'er, you're awake? Ci'er, you scared your grandfather to death." As a pair of withered old hands reached out, Fu Xin Ci was pulled into a bony embrace.
But the person was just skin and bones, their sharp angles even making her own bones ache.
At this point, even Fu Xin Ci, who was usually quite thick-skinned, finally realized something was wrong.
But before she could ask, a powerful mysterious force surged through her brain. She couldn't utter a single word, her eyes rolled back, and she fainted again.
"Ci'er, Ci'er."
"Sister, boohoo." The little toddler was scared into crying again.
"Grandpa Meng, Sister Fu just fainted," the young boy said after checking the little girl's breathing, trying to comfort him.
"Really?" the old man asked tremblingly.
"Really," the young boy replied solemnly.
"Thank you, Little Qi," the old man said, looking at his granddaughter in his arms. Though her eyes were still closed, her complexion was much better than before, no longer deathly pale.
"Grandpa Meng, you're welcome."
"Sister, Sister..." The little toddler, clever and quick, stopped crying upon hearing the conversation between his grandfather and Brother Qi. He wiped the tears from his face, his small face streaked with dirt, and tried to pull his sister up.
"Shh, Yu'er, be good. Ci'er is too tired. Let's let Ci'er sleep a bit longer, okay?"
"Mmm-hmm," the little toddler nodded vigorously, obediently.
...
After an unknown period, when Fu Xin Ci opened her eyes again, the surroundings were pitch black. Occasionally, the chirping of insects could be heard in the distance.
Although she couldn't see anything and didn't know where she was, she could clearly sense that many people were nearby.
Because she not only heard the rhythmic snores but also the rumbling of hungry stomachs and a mixed smell of sweat and smelly feet.
Fu Xin Ci lay on the ground, feeling the residual warmth from the sun-baked earth beneath her.
Turning her cheek, she simply wanted to breathe in the scent of the soil.
"Haa~"
Even though this earthy smell was mixed with the pungent odor of sweat and feet, it was much better than the stench of monsters and decay emanating from the creatures in the apocalypse.
"Haa~"
She took another deep breath, almost inhaling the dry dust into her nose before stopping.
Without even looking up, she could see the crescent moon in the night sky, like a sharp silver hook tearing a small opening in the dark night.
The ground was hard, and this body was as thin as skin and bones. Although she had only woken up a short while ago, she felt aches all over.
Fu Xin Ci carefully moved her body. She didn't want to disturb anyone and wanted to quickly sort through the memories that did not belong to her, from beginning to end.
To make a long story short, the original owner of this body was also named Fu Xin Ci. She was an eight-year-old girl, but together with her three-year-old brother, Fu Xin Yu, they were accompanying their grandfather and the Meng clan members on their journey to exile in Liaodong.