The rest of the journey passed without further incident, and three days later, the group finally arrived safely at the northern border of Beihuang.
Upon arrival, Wu Yu and the others inquired about the current situation and learned that due to intense warfare at the front lines, a third of the soldiers and civilians stationed in Beihuang had already been reassigned. If they had arrived earlier, they would have likely been sent directly to the battlefield.
Wu Yu and his group escorted Sun Juanfang and the others to Beihuang's Reclamation Office. The soldier in charge of registration looked over the group and asked in disbelief,
"There are way too few living exiles in this batch. Are you trying to make things hard for me? If the higher-ups ask questions, I won't be able to take the blame."
Wu Yu quickly stepped forward and slipped a thin red envelope into the soldier's hand.
"You don't know what we've been through on the way here—cold winds, avalanches, rebel ambushes…"
The soldier just nodded perfunctorily, eager for Wu Yu to leave so he could properly examine the banknotes in the envelope.
Given the current instability in the court and the pressing need for manpower in Beihuang, the imperial court had already lifted restrictions on the number of exiles allowed. Beihuang welcomed as many people as possible.
The soldier's complaints were merely a pretense to extract bribes.
Seeing the slight smile on the soldier's lips, Wu Yu finally relaxed. If his contacts hadn't been reassigned, he wouldn't have had to face all this uncertainty and shell out bribe money.
He quickly led his brothers away from the troublesome area, planning to find a place nearby to observe the situation.
Later, the exiles were registered and organized into family units, then assigned to the Reclamation Zone of Beihuang.
If the men hadn't all been civil officials, they might have been placed in the Military Reclamation Zone, which was where real life-or-death labor awaited.
A village head under the jurisdiction of the Reclamation Zone received them and led the group of dozens to a few vacant thatched huts in Wuliu Village.
As they looked at the straw huts—so flimsy that a gust of wind could blow the roof off—everyone silently sighed.
Noticing their expressions, the head villager, Wang Cunzhang, tried to console them.
"You're actually lucky. Our village still has some empty houses, so at least you have a roof over your heads. When my father's generation first arrived, they had to build everything from scratch."
Hearing this, the group forced themselves to perk up a bit. Compared to their ancestors, they were at least spared the trouble of constructing homes.
Human psychology is odd—when compared with those worse off, even a poor situation can feel acceptable.
Sun Juanfang and Sister Ting were also assigned to the Qian household. In this dynasty, women couldn't register their own households independently.
Qian Mingwen now headed the Qian family. On the road to exile, the Qian matriarch had lost both her husband and son, and no longer had the strength or will to manage the family.
(Note: Old Master Qian died in the avalanche.)
As the legitimate eldest son, Qian Mingwen naturally took the lead. The first thing he wanted to do was kick out Concubine Liu, who had sullied the Qian family's name.
To him, a woman who broke the bounds of propriety should be expelled as soon as possible.
"Qian Mingwen, you have no right to kick me out! I was officially brought into the household by your younger brother. If I'm to leave, it has to be by a written dismissal from Qian Mingwu himself!"
Of course Concubine Liu refused to leave quietly. She used her dead husband Qian Mingwu as an excuse to keep clinging to the Qian family.
"Heh, you shameless, immoral concubine! You want to be treated like a proper concubine? Fine, stay—just don't expect a single grain of rice from us!"
Furious with her shamelessness, Qian Mingwen flung his sleeves and left without looking back.
Upon hearing she wouldn't be fed, Concubine Liu didn't insist on staying. But the humiliation Qian Mingwen had dealt her today—she etched it deeply into her heart.
The thatched house assigned to them had only three habitable rooms. The kitchen and toilet were just makeshift sheds built outdoors.
Though the Qian family once would have scoffed at such conditions, having endured the hardships of exile, they could now accept them. But room allocation remained a major issue.
In the end, it was decided that the Qian matriarch would live with her daughter, two granddaughters, and one grandson in a room. Qian Mingwen and his half-brother would share another room. The remaining women would have to squeeze into the last room.
These cramped living conditions irritated Sun Juanfang. She especially disliked having to share a large communal bed with four or five other women—it made it hard to use her abilities without sneaking around.
But on paper, she was still in mourning for her husband and couldn't yet leave the Qian family. If she left now, she'd be drowned in the spittle of public opinion.
The Xuan Dynasty was relatively liberal—it allowed widows to remarry—but only after they had observed a six-month mourning period for their deceased husbands.
Sigh. She still had a few months to go. In the meantime, she needed to find a manageable man to act as her future husband—only then could she leave the Qian family with proper justification.
Author's Note:
In this ancient world, even though the female lead is capable, she still needs a "background prop" of a husband to shield her and Ting-jie from gossip and predatory eyes.