After Transmigration, I Picked Up A Husband and Daughter
Chapter 124: The Soul Returns to Its Homeland

Chapter 124: Chapter 124: The Soul Returns to Its Homeland

Their figures, huddled together in the dim light of dawn, looked rather shabby, but the lively and sprightly child was conspicuously missing—Jiang Youfu. His absence was like an invisible blade, silently slicing a trace of unease into the air.

As soon as Jiang Xunzhong entered the courtyard, he didn’t hesitate to take off his own coat, which was already soaked with rain, and gently draped it over the slim shoulders of Lady Zhao, carefully avoiding the fierce wound on her arm, fearing that even a droplet of cold rain would cause her pain.

He himself was drenched, with strands of wet hair clinging to his forehead, and his clothes dripping water, looking like a drenched chicken just pulled out of the river.

Su Yu witnessed this scene and could not help but internally sigh; this tender care indeed resembled that of a standard good husband, yet at the same time, that neglect and dereliction of duty toward their child made it difficult for him to be deemed a qualified father.

After changing into dry clothes, the couple returned to the room only to show faces that could not hide their fatigue and worry, their brows furrowed as if cloaked by dark clouds.

All day long, they had traversed every nook and cranny of the village, leaving no stone unturned, not even the most inconspicuous pond’s edge, yet there was still no sign of Jiang Youfu.

The casual chatter of the villagers hinted that the mischievous figure of the child had been seen in the village just the day before, but over the past two days, it was as if he had been whisked away by a gust of wind, leaving no trace.

Even the old Mrs. Zhang who always squinted and sunbathed at the entrance of the village shook her head, indicating she hadn’t seen a hint of Jiang Youfu leaving the village.

So, where could a child go in such a small world, all too familiar to him? A terrible thought quietly rose in Lady Zhao’s heart, trembling involuntarily, tears welling up in her eyes—could he have truly ventured alone to the back mountain, filled with unknown dangers? Thinking about the wild animals and unpredictable threats lurking in the jungle, her heart twisted in pain, and hope for his safe return seemed extremely faint.

Jiang Xunzhong gazed out the window at the endless curtain of rain, sighing deeply, his body and spirit both exhausted.

A day spent searching in vain left a restlessness and helplessness in his mind as persistent as the rain.

There were no signs of having left the village, yet it was as though he had evaporated from the human world, this contradiction and mystery plunging him into confusion.

In the kitchen, Xie Xinghua, hearing their return, hurriedly got up, fumblingly preparing two steaming bowls of noodles, hoping to dispel some of the chill and fatigue.

But when she brought the noodles to Lady Zhao with good intentions, she was met with a sudden outburst, "It was all because of your daughter biting me, making me lie sick in bed for so long, that led my Youfu to run away from home! If anything happens to my son, I’ll never let this go!"

Her words were filled with a mother’s despair and rage, her gaze sharp as a knife, startling Xie Xinghua into stepping back, her body trembling slightly.

Jiang Xunzhong saw this and felt a turmoil of emotions, hungry yet with the sensation of something stuck in his throat, rendering the food tasteless.

He knew Xie Xinghua was not to blame and suppressed the discomfort in his heart, gently calming his wife, "You should go back to the room and rest first, let’s talk once we’ve calmed down."

Jiang Xunzhong’s unusual interjection took Xie Xinghua by surprise, leaving her momentarily stunned, surprised and grateful, before she hurriedly left the scene.

In this house, she had learned to read the room and avoid unnecessary conflicts.

Seeing the unappeasable anger on Lady Zhao’s face, Xie Xinghua secretly thought that regardless of whether Jiang Youfu returned safely or not, a deep rift had formed between Da Ya and Lady Zhao.

The night fell, the rain poured down heavily, continuing unabated throughout the night, until there was a brief respite at dawn.

After the rain, the little village burgeoned even more with life, the flowers and trees appeared even greener and dewier, and the air was so fresh it compelled one to take a deep breath.

The paths were scarcely trodden on in the early morning, yet not too muddy; the tips of the grass were adorned with sparkling dew, shimmering faintly and adding a bit of poetry to the scene.

However, the tranquility and beauty were mercilessly shattered by a sudden, panicked scream not far away, as if everything had once again returned to that ominous and anxious starting point.

Jiang Youfu, the young man whose smile once warmed hearts, had abruptly turned into a wisp of light smoke, dissipating in the human world.

His departure, like a pebble cast into the lotus pond, caused ripples that quickly fell silent.

Perhaps, it was that accidental misstep that plunged him deep into the muddy trap, silently bidding farewell to the world in the still waters of the pond.

That night, the rain poured and the wind howled furiously; the usually serene lotus pond was stirred into churning waves, as if the heavens and earth let out a sigh, ruthlessly exposing the hidden secret.

Not until the next day when the dawn’s early light appeared, did a timid young woman, passing by the lotus pond, catch a glimpse that would become an eternal nightmare.

Lady Zhao, the kind mother, felt as if the whole world collapsed in the moment she heard the tragic news. Her heart shattered into a million pieces, and her grief, like the burst of a dam, threatened to drown her to the point of suffocation. In her daze, fainting became her only escape.

Jiang Xunzhong, the man once as firm as a mountain, was also bent by the weight of the successive blows, with his hair seemingly frosted with the passage of time overnight.

And Fang Qin, the woman known for her composure, showed an extraordinary calmness in the face of her husband’s death.

Her eyes held no sorrow, only a touch of indifference and decisiveness.

Fang Qin had always been strong-willed, her feelings for Jiang Youfu complex and subtle, devoid of deep affection, and even tinged with resentment.

Even if it was because of her that Jiang Youfu was expelled from the family and ultimately met with misfortune, her heart’s lake stirred not, let alone regret.

According to ancient customs, those who died an unnatural death like Jiang Youfu needed to be buried quickly, without the honor of a stele, and no chance for rest in the family’s resting place.

For Lady Zhao, this was akin to rubbing salt into her already deeply wounded heart.

She struggled vigorously, arguing with the village elders with all her rationale, every word bearing a mother’s deepest love and reluctance for her son.

"Why? My Youfu was born here, grew up here, why can’t his soul return to this land?"

Lady Zhao’s voice was filled with helplessness and defiance.

The village head’s face was covered with helplessness and sympathy, his words fraught with concerns, "Youfu was indeed found here, but the sudden demise of a young life is always hard to accept..."

Lady Zhao’s persistence was like a blazing flame, fighting against the village’s traditions and prejudices.

However, the attitude of the villagers was unanimous, maintaining what they believed to be order with the power of the community.

"Aunt Zhou, with your child dying like this, if you put him in the family cemetery, I fear it will bring bad luck to the village."

Each attempt at persuasion, mixed with sympathy and concern, also revealed an unwavering insistence.

In the face of such collective will, Lady Zhao’s efforts seemed so futile.