This was Jade Rowan's first venture outside since arriving two days ago. Not for lack of desire, but because scouring every drawer and cabinet in the house had yielded not a single coin.
According to the memories embedded in her mind, all household money resided with Nigel Shaw. He doled it out periodically. His abrupt incarceration had disrupted that rhythm.
Jade and Nigel's relationship was… complicated. Far from a conventional marriage. While the police in her previous life had meticulously investigated Nigel, details about his ex-wife were scarce. She'd borne him a daughter, then vanished when the child was three, allegedly running off with a wealthy Hong Kong businessman. Attempts to locate her had failed – rumors placed her overseas or claimed she'd died of illness.
Now, lodged within Jade's consciousness, the reality was messier. The original owner's parents prized sons over daughters. Sandwiched between two older sisters and a pair of younger twin siblings (a boy and a girl), her childhood was marked by neglect. Too sickly to be given away like the youngest sister, she existed in a limbo of insignificance. Aware of her status, she'd turned to academics – starting school late at nine – as her only means of earning her mother's approval.
Reading broadened her horizons, fueling a fierce determination to escape the village. She clawed her way into the county high school. Yet, her early success, built on rote memorization, faltered against high school rigor. As her beauty blossomed, her parents saw currency. Plans were hatched to marry her off to the pockmarked baker in town for a hefty 10,000-yuan bride price.
She rebelled. She'd marry into the county town or not at all. Cornered, she set her sights on a well-off classmate who ran with a rough crowd. Her scheme involved infiltrating the nightclub where his uncle reigned – skipping evening study to work there as a server. The boy and his friends often crashed in private rooms.
Fate twisted the plan. One night, mistaking the darkened room, she slipped into bed beside a sleeping figure… only to wake beside Nigel Shaw, a figure from school infamy – expelled years prior during her first year. His name still echoed in hushed tones through the corridors.
The deed was done. With her parents storming the school gates, "Jiang Rou" moved into Nigel's house, societal whispers be damned. Two months later, pregnancy sealed a union neither wanted. Their coexistence was glacial. Nigel rarely came home; when he did, silence hung thick. He didn't hit women, but the sting of entrapment lingered, compounded by knowing he wasn't the prize she'd aimed for. The original Jade endured her own torment: drawn to Nigel's arresting looks and protective aura (with him, bullies vanished), yet repelled by his poverty and tarnished reputation – a far cry from the life she craved. The seeds of her eventual flight were sown early.
Though she'd lived in the county town for six months, Jade rarely ventured out. Following fragmented memories, she headed towards the market. May Lin, Nigel's mother, sold vegetables there. Jade deliberately took a detour to a different butcher's stall. She carefully selected half a kilogram of lean pork – four yuan. Nearby stalls yielded peppers, potatoes, green beans, scallions, and garlic for another 1.70 yuan. Her basket grew heavy.
Mission accomplished, she ducked out the market's back entrance. A grimy-looking pastry shop beckoned. Unfazed, Jade bought two yuan's worth of pumpkin cakes and Huangshan sesame cakes. Munching as she walked, the long route home skirted half the town. Halfway, the pastries grew cloying. Spotting a small grocery store at a crossroads, her sweet tooth demanded a red bean popsicle.
The store faced a wide river spanned by a stone bridge. Willows trailed their branches along the railed banks. This side of town showed signs of development; apartment buildings were rising. Under the distant willow shade, a group of young men lounged. Their loud, raucous laughter cut the air. Dressed in garish shirts, they slouched or squatted, radiating delinquency. Jade pegged them as trouble immediately. She averted her gaze, veering slightly wider as she passed.
Abruptly, their noise ceased. Jade's heart clenched. Please don't approach. I can't fight them like this. As she moved further away, Ken Zhou nudged the man leaning against the tree trunk beside him. "Wasn't that… the wife?" he whispered, puzzled. Why hadn't she acknowledged them?
The man rested against the willow, left leg braced, right foot casually propped against the bark. Dark, fathomless eyes tracked the retreating figure. He exhaled a plume of smoke, squinting slightly, but remained silent.
Ken ventured, "Think she's pissed off? You know… about being locked up?"
The man turned his head, fixing Ken with a cold stare. Ken rubbed his nose sheepishly. "Just kidding." He knew better than anyone the frigid dynamic between Nigel Shaw and his wife. Jade barely dared breathe around him, let alone show anger.
Nigel dismissed the thought. He took a final drag, flicked the cigarette butt to the ground, and crushed it under his heel. His eyes hardened, turning predatory. "Let's go. Time to settle accounts." He pivoted and strode off in the opposite direction without a backward glance.
Ken perked up instantly. "Move out!" he called to the others. Grumbles of agreement followed: "Gotta teach that Zhang bastard a lesson!" "Yeah, Nigel, let's get payback!"
---
Jade treated herself to lunch at a noodle shop she passed. The era's honesty was refreshing – the advertised dumplings were plump, generously filled with a half-meat, half-vegetable mix. Twenty of them filled a large bowl. Delicious, but she ate until she could barely move.
Home by early afternoon, she splashed cool water on her face and neck. Once her stomach settled, she lay down for a nap. Sleep was fitful. A crucial realization struck: preparing for a baby! Her sister-in-law's pregnancy had been a flurry of activity – researching formula brands, stockpiling diapers, bibs, tiny clothes and socks… Back in university, Jade had even asked friends abroad to ship formula and bottles. She knew the drill. Yet the original owner, months into pregnancy, seemed oblivious. The house held nothing for a newborn – not a stitch of clothing, not a single cloth diaper.
Anxiety chased away rest. By 2 PM, she was up, rifling through the bedroom wardrobe. It was sparse: three or four outfits for her (including winter wear), and even less for Nigel – a faded black button-down shirt, camouflage work pants, and a padded jacket. The bottom shelf held older garments, reeking of mildew when disturbed. Likely relics of Old Shaw or Nigel's late father. Even for diapers, Jade found them unsuitable.
A pang of sadness hit her. Comparing her pampered nephew's arrival to the stark reality awaiting this child… Even as a reluctant mother, she couldn't bear to shortchange the baby. Nigel's transformation into a good father wouldn't happen overnight. Relying solely on him felt unwise. And even if he became a decent father, that didn't guarantee he'd be a good husband. While Jade couldn't fathom abandoning her child like the original owner had, spending a lifetime with Nigel wasn't her plan either. Life was long; whether she returned to her own time or not, she needed to carve her own path.
Resolved, Jade grabbed the remaining money and headed out again. She recalled a fabric shop near the market. May Lin's thirty yuan had dwindled by ten that morning. Wincing internally, Jade spent eight yuan on bolts of soft cotton fabric and a bag of batting. The shop offered tailoring, but she declined – the fee was extra. The shopkeeper, impressed by her bulk purchase, threw in a packet of needles and thread.
The basket weighed heavily as she walked home, mentally sketching patterns from her nephew's baby clothes. It shouldn't be too hard. But the baby would arrive as winter set in – she needed warm jackets and thick quilts too. Then there was her own postpartum recovery… good food, proper rest. Formula and supplements would be essential. The list seemed to grow with every step. A wave of overwhelmed frustration washed over her.
Her mood was still sour when she returned. Seeking distraction, she threw herself into cooking, using all the pork she'd bought: stir-fried pepper strips with pork, vinegar-glazed shredded potatoes, and green bean egg drop soup.
Just as she placed the rice pot on the stove, thunderous banging erupted at the front gate. She paused, listening. Confirming the noise, she secured the pot lid and headed for the courtyard. Cautious, she didn't unlock it immediately. "Who is it?" she called out.
A boy's voice, raspy with adolescence, answered: "Third Sister! It's me! Open up!" More violent pounding followed.
Jade froze. She'd braced herself for Nigel. But "Third Sister" could only mean one person: the original owner's leech of a younger brother, making his monthly pilgrimage for cash. Nigel's allowance usually covered her needs, but ingrained duty compelled the original Jade to subsidize her brother. Last month's funds were already drained by him. Nigel's stint in jail meant the coffers were empty.
"Third Sister, I'm starving!" the voice whined. "What're you cooking? Smells amazing! I want some!"
Jade had zero interest in playing the sacrificial sister. Without hesitation, she pitched her voice higher, feigning ignorance. "Your sister moved away. I'm not her."
The pounding ceased for a split second, then resumed with renewed fury. "Liar! That's your voice!" A boot slammed against the wood. "Jade Rowan, you bitch! Open this fucking door!" CRACK! The wooden bolt shuddered, the gate splintering open a hand's width.
Jade stumbled back, alarmed. Protecting her belly, she stroked it soothingly. Through the gap, she saw a heavyset, dark-skinned boy, face contorted with rage. Seeing the damage, he kicked harder. "Filthy whore! I see you!"
The brother's viciousness shocked her. Pregnant and vulnerable, confrontation wasn't an option. She turned and hurried towards the house. Its solid door had three heavy bolts – far sturdier.
"Running, huh?" he bellowed. "Just wait 'til I get in! I'll beat you dead! Little slut! I'll tell Mom you locked me out!"
Jade ignored the threats, focused on reaching the threshold, hands cradling her belly. She was almost there when a sickening CRUNCH and a pained shriek tore through the air.
A man's voice, low and dripping with menace, followed: "Who gave you the right to make trouble here?"
Jade halted, gripping the doorframe. She turned slowly. The brother lay sprawled on the shattered gate plank, blood streaming from his forehead and mouth, whimpering in agony, body trembling.
Framed in the ruined gateway stood a tall, imposing figure. He stepped into the courtyard, his features emerging from the shadows.
He was startlingly handsome. Thick, dark brows slashed above eyes like obsidian shards – deep-set, intense, framed by long lashes. A blade-straight nose chiseled his face into stark planes. Beneath it, a sculpted mouth, currently a tight line, bore a bruised corner, a minor flaw only emphasizing the breathtaking precision of his features. Shoulder-length black hair, uneven and untamed, framed a face that belonged more to a dangerous chiaroscuro painting than reality. It didn't soften him; instead, it amplified the raw, perilous energy radiating from him – a magnetism born of menace and untamed will.
His worn, yellowish-white shirt hung loosely, fastened only by two middle buttons, revealing a glimpse of taut, sun-bronzed chest. He stalked towards the cowering boy on the ground. Stopping before him, he planted a boot squarely on the boy's face, grinding it slowly into the dirt. His voice was glacial. "Know whose house this is?"
The boy gagged, blood bubbling. "Broth- brother-in-law! Sorry! Won't… won't do it again!"
Nigel Shaw let out a derisive snort. "Next time, I break your legs. Get lost." He lifted his foot only to deliver a vicious kick to the boy's ribs.
A strangled cry ripped from the boy. He scrambled up, clutching his side, blood and tears smearing his face, and hobbled out the shattered gate as fast as his injuries allowed, vanishing without a backward glance.
Silence descended, thick and heavy.
Jade watched the brother flee, then, sensing a shift in the air, cautiously lifted her gaze towards the source of the violence. Her eyes met the chilling, indifferent stare she'd seen only in a police corridor a lifetime away.