1.3

The three women gathered around the crackling fire, their chatter light and carefree. They praised Wushuang's ingenuity with broad smiles, but Wushuang only half-listened, her mind elsewhere.

A gnawing worry about their dwindling food supply kept her distracted. The fire had saved them from freezing, but what about starving? The thought of those scrawny wild vegetable roots they'd found earlier that day, half-frozen and unappetizing, hung heavy in her mind.

She'd already gotten tired of the bitter root paste that tasted more like medicine than food.

Later, lying on the straw bed, Wushuang stared up at the snow-packed ceiling. Her thoughts were a mess of regrets and half-formed plans.

I should've bought some practical skills when I had the chance, she grumbled internally.

Cement, soap-making, glass—all the basics for a time traveler! But nope, I'm stuck here with a head full of nothing and a belly full of bitter paste.

She scoffed quietly, a bitter smile on her lips.

And even if I knew how to make those things, I'd probably be robbed blind the moment I tried to sell them. I'm just a woman with no backing. Who am I kidding?

Wushuang turned onto her side, trying to chase away the spiraling thoughts.

If I'm going to make money, I need to get stronger, she thought, picturing herself fighting off three or five men like a martial arts hero. It was a comforting fantasy until reality reared its ugly head again.

Her thoughts rambled on until the early hours, finally trailing off into a restless sleep.

Please don't let me get sick, was her final, desperate plea to the universe before she drifted off.

In these conditions, falling ill was practically a death sentence—or, at the very least, a ticket straight to the underworld. And failing her mission? Not an option. She still wanted to stay with her mother, no matter what.

When Wushuang woke the next morning, it was already daylight. She touched her forehead—no fever. Good, she hadn't caught anything overnight. She felt surprisingly refreshed, as if her body's energy had reset itself.

Mrs. Ma bustled into the snow house, her face lighting up when she saw Wushuang awake. "Yaya, you're up! There's some porridge left for you in the pottery jar. Eat up while it's still warm."

"Thank you, Aunt Ma," Wushuang said, offering a grateful smile as she stretched and rubbed her eyes.

Mrs. Ma waved her off, her cheeks dimpling in a grin. "No need for thanks, dear. If it wasn't for your quick thinking, we'd all have been ice pops last night."

Wushuang nodded and took the bowl of porridge. As she ate the bitter, slightly salty vegetable root concoction, she tried to ignore the unpleasant taste.

After finishing, she picked up the empty jar and stepped outside to scoop some snow, intending to melt it for washing.

The village was buzzing with activity. People were busy building more snow houses, their movements brisk and determined. The despair that had gripped them the previous day had eased, replaced by a cautious optimism.

"Could you keep an eye on the door while I wash up?" Wushuang asked Mrs. Ma, who nodded and stood guard without hesitation.

After washing up, Wushuang rejoined the others inside the snow house, where Mrs. Bai and Mrs. Qian were sorting through a small pile of items they'd dug out from beneath their collapsed home.

Needles, thread, a few mismatched buttons—nothing spectacular, but in these conditions, every little bit helped.

Mrs. Qian stood, hands on her hips, surveying the meager loot. "We'll keep all of this together," she decided. "It's not much, but better than splitting it."

Wushuang nodded in agreement. "And about this snow house—it's warm, sure, but the door doesn't close all the way. It's not exactly safe. Why don't we all stay together for the winter? Safety in numbers."

Mrs. Bai and Mrs. Qian exchanged glances and nodded. It made sense to band together when things were so precarious.

With Mrs. Ma and Mrs. Qian heading out again to search for more salvageable goods, Wushuang found herself alone with her mother. She seized the moment to bring up her latest scheme.

"Mom," she began cautiously, "how much money do we have left?"

Mrs. Bai sighed, patting her chest where she kept a small purse tucked away. "Only 200 copper coins. It's everything we've got."

Wushuang felt a surge of relief. Not much, but enough to get her plan off the ground. "Mom, let's go to the county town tomorrow," she said, her tone suddenly brisk with determination.

Mrs. Bai frowned, her eyebrows knitting together. "What for? It costs two copper coins per person just to take the bullock cart, and the town charges an entrance fee of one copper coin each. That's a lot of money, Wushuang! Enough to buy a pound of noodles!"

"I know it sounds like a waste," Wushuang said, raising her hands in a placating gesture.

"But, Mom, we're running out of food. We've barely got anything left. And doing laundry in this cold? It's not practical. The town's too small, and those who can afford help have already got it. I've got a plan, but we need to invest a little."

Mrs. Bai's expression shifted, worry creasing her features. She knew all too well that their food supplies were nearly gone, and the wild vegetable roots wouldn't last much longer. She glanced around the snow house, remembering how Wushuang had built it out of nothing.

"I guess you did manage to make a house out of snow," Mrs. Bai conceded, her voice tinged with reluctant hope. "Alright, I'll go with you."

That evening, Wushuang and Mrs. Bai shared their plan to go to the county town with Mrs. Ma and Mrs. Qian. The two women simply nodded, assuming they were going to buy food like many of the other villagers.

Early the next morning, bundled in layers and wearing spare clothes lent by Mrs. Ma and Mrs. Qian, Wushuang and Mrs. Bai set off. The additional clothing helped stave off the chill, allowing them to walk briskly without shivering.

It took an hour to reach the nearby town, followed by another hour-long ride on a jostling ox cart before they arrived at the county town. They paid the entrance fees—a small but necessary expense—and stepped into the bustling streets.

Wushuang's eyes darted everywhere, soaking in the sights of the market stalls overflowing with goods, the enticing aroma of roasted chestnuts, and the clatter of horse hooves on cobblestone streets.

Despite her resolve, she felt a rush of anxiety mixed with excitement. This place is a goldmine, she thought, her eyes sparkling. But it's also a minefield. One wrong step, and I'll be poorer than I already am. If that's even possible.

As they strolled through the market, Wushuang spotted a shop selling study supplies. Her heart leaped—this was exactly what she needed! Armed with a new drawing skill she'd bought from the system shop for just 20 merit points, she finally had a chance to turn her luck around. Sure, she'd spent 80 points on other skills before (for igloo construction method), but 20 points was nothing!

Dragging her mother along, Wushuang practically skipped into the shop. She was pleasantly surprised when the attendants, despite her and Mrs. Bai's shabby appearance, greeted them with warm smiles.

"Ladies, what kind of study supplies are you looking for?" asked a young man with a bright smile.

Wushuang quickly surveyed the shelves lined with brushes, inks, and paper. Her eyes lit up as she spotted exactly what she needed.

"We're looking for some drawing materials—brushes, ink, and some good-quality paper," she said confidently, her mind racing with ideas.

Mrs. Bai watched her daughter, her expression a mix of bewilderment and cautious optimism. "Drawing, huh?" she asked, tilting her head. "And what do you plan to draw?"

Wushuang grinned, her eyes twinkling. "Anything that'll sell, Mom. Maybe some fancy birds or flowers, something that'll catch the eye of those rich folks."

She leaned closer, lowering her voice conspiratorially. "Besides, they say an artist's work appreciates in value after they're gone, right? I'll just have to make sure I survive long enough to see that happen!"

Mrs. Bai chuckled despite herself. "You've got big dreams for a girl with only a handful of copper coins," she said, shaking her head fondly. "But you've surprised me before. Let's see what you can do."

As Wushuang haggled with the shopkeeper, her clever tongue earning them a small discount, Mrs. Bai watched her with a mixture of pride and hope. For the first time in days, she felt like maybe—just maybe—they had a fighting chance.