CMWKSD -Chapter 3 Facing Reality

Jiu Yue finally had to admit a fact—she had transmigrated, into some unknown ancient dynasty.

And she’d come over bodily.

After squatting beneath the city wall for more than an hour, Jiu Yue finally gave in.

She— The number-one assassin of the world’s top assassination organization, Dark Moon.

Dark Moon’s top assassin, Jiu Yue!

Had transmigrated bodily!

Thinking over what she knew about the various dynasties, Jiu Yue decisively chose to return to the Ji household rather than flee into the mountains to become an undocumented refugee.

No choice—who told them to have such good luck picking her up?

Every cause has its effect.

Their retribution… is me.

With not the slightest sense of guilt, Jiu Yue bit down on a blade of wild grass and headed back toward the Ji home.

……

Ji Yiqing was inside the room, quietly rummaging through the silver he’d saved over the years. There were bits of scattered silver hidden in many places around the room—all to guard against Hu Chunhua.

He was looking for money to treat Ji Chaomian’s leg. No matter what, he had to get Ji Chaomian’s leg healed.

Touching his own face, he knew he could no longer take part in the provincial exam. After all, having proper features was the first requirement to enter the examination hall. Someone whose face was ruined like his had no future left.

He’d just found two taels of silver when a faint sound came from the window. Ji Yiqing froze, then swiftly and silently flipped himself onto the bed.

Jiu Yue’s formidable stamina meant that even after traveling back and forth for six hours, she felt no fatigue at all—training had always been far harsher than this.

With a thump, she deliberately flopped onto the bed boards, inexplicably feeling that no golden nest or silver nest compares to one’s own doghouse.

Ji Yiqing’s heart was pounding wildly. He didn’t dare move an inch.

He had no idea what this mysteriously appearing girl had been up to, and with the room pitch-black, he couldn’t see anything clearly.

Still, since they didn’t know each other, it seemed Hu Chunhua’s wishful thinking had failed. This girl looked lively and robust—she’d definitely outlive Hu Chunhua. His hope of becoming a widower was clearly dashed for good.

Dazed, he fell asleep again. After all, he’d hit his head—recovery wouldn’t be that fast.

……

Early the next morning, Ji Dahai and Su Ruo fed Ji Yiqing and Jiu Yue some thin rice porridge, then hurried out to work. The two of them were basically the Ji family’s old oxen.

Jiu Yue originally planned to get up, but after thinking about it, she decided to laze around for another day. She still needed time to properly digest the absurd fact that she had transmigrated bodily.

Once it was fully light, Jiu Yue sat up and took a good look at her bargain-bin husband—then casually reached out and touched him.

Ji Yiqing had just woken when he felt a pair of mischievous hands on him. His body tensed up reflexively. Squinting his eyes, he saw the delicate-looking girl beside him and froze, his face instantly turning red. But because of his injuries, his strength hadn’t recovered yet.

He couldn’t even push her away.

As she touched, Jiu Yue clicked her tongue in admiration. She really had to marvel at this man’s physique. Living out in the countryside, he was exactly the kind of rugged male lead from those rough-guy novels.

Wait—that wasn’t right. There were books in his room, and long robes. He looked like a scholar.

Damn it—what kind of scholar is nearly 1.9 meters tall with a body full of muscle?

Aren’t scholars supposed to be refined gentlemen, warm and jade-like young masters?

(What Jiu Yue really wanted to say was: skinny weaklings.)

Oh—Confucius seemed to be this type too.

Jiu Yue silently apologized to Confucius. She’d been shallow. Who told the 22nd-century entertainment industry to be flooded with pale, skinny, baby-faced pretty boys?

They’d dragged everyone’s aesthetics down. Look at this man—this build, this face. If he were placed in the 22nd-century entertainment industry, he’d be top-tier celebrity material. Standing among all those frail, delicate pretty boys, he’d be like a crane among chickens.

And it wasn’t that scary gym-bro kind of muscle either. His build was well-proportioned, every muscle perfectly placed—balanced, powerful, and pleasing to the eye.

Jiu Yue’s fingers itched. She wanted to dissect him.

This man was practically a perfect human specimen.

She’d never had good things before, so naturally she didn’t know what good really looked like.

She’d never been in a relationship either, and had no particular desire for men. After all, as an assassin who lived with her head figuratively tied to her belt, why waste time on that when she could enjoy herself?

What did she need a man for?

She raised her hand and took Ji Yiqing’s pulse—not to treat him, but to confirm whether her bargain-bin husband had any hidden secrets.

That’s right—she was the top assassin. But while other assassins used guns and explosives, Jiu Yue was the number-one assassin who practiced both medicine and poison.

Medicine—integrated Chinese and Western medicine.

Poison—even simpler to understand. Blood-sealing poisons. If she said you’d die at a certain time, you’d die at that time.

So she had another nickname: The King of Hell. After all, if Yama tells you to die at the third watch, you won’t live to see the fifth.

The strong, steady pulse beneath her fingertips showed that Ji Yiqing wasn’t just visually strong—his body was in good condition too. The injury on his face wasn’t a big problem.

Just a bit of excessive inner heat. Who knew what he’d been worked up about?

After checking Ji Yiqing’s body and pulse, Jiu Yue confirmed he wasn’t sick. His kidneys were fine too—looked like his stamina should be decent.

Sleepable. (That kind of sleep. 😉)

As long as he hadn’t messed around with other people before, he was fine to sleep with. Jiu Yue had a strong sense of ownership over what belonged to her—never sharing was one of her core principles.

As for the face—sure, it was injured, but once the lights are off, isn’t it all the same? Besides, this dump didn’t even have lamps.

In just a few quick thoughts, Jiu Yue had already planned out her future with this bargain-bin husband.

All she’d learned growing up was how to kill. She had no real moral bottom line, and no idea about “cultivating feelings” between two people.

People like her lived day to day with no guarantee of tomorrow. In the organization, there were assassins who played with men, with women, drank themselves senseless, obsessed over knives—masochists, sadists, everything imaginable. The more perverted, the better.

Jiu Yue was already considered an oddball in Dark Moon—because every bit of money she earned went straight into enjoying life.

Four-thousand-a-bottle mineral water was standard. Food, clothing, housing, travel—all had to be exquisitely luxurious.

Compared to others who spent their money on sex, alcohol, and gambling, Jiu Yue spending it all on herself was already pretty tame.

Besides, she couldn’t be sure what she found would be clean.

As for the man in front of her—he was already her nominal bargain-bin husband. Whether she’d actually sleep with him or not still required further judgment.

Jiu Yue had absolutely no intention of fixing his face.

What did that have to do with her?

After finishing her check, Jiu Yue lay back down. She’d just closed her eyes when voices came from the window above her head—vaguely sounding like that old woman from yesterday.

“Really? Fifty taels!”

Ji Dahu lowered his voice, not caring in the slightest that there were people inside the room, nor whether they might overhear. “Yes. Little Six said the young master of the Wang family is likely to die in the next couple of days. Since he hasn’t married, the Wang family wants to find him a yin bride.”

Hu Chunhua grinned so wide her eyes nearly disappeared. “Who would’ve thought such luck would fall into our laps? Picking up this little girl really paid off. If she dies, Ji Yiqing, that bastard, becomes a widower. Sell her afterward and we can make another fifty taels.”

Ji Dahu laughed happily as well. “Mother, then when the time comes…”

Hu Chunhua had just gained fifty taels out of nowhere and was feeling generous. “I’ll give you ten taels.”

Ji Dahu immediately handed over the twenty taels of deposit he was holding. Hu Chunhua generously passed ten taels back to him. “Stop feeding that girl. The sooner she dies, the sooner she’s reborn—saves wasting rice porridge.”

Inside the room, Jiu Yue was so angry she almost laughed. In just one short day, she’d gone from a good-luck bride to a yin bride. Her identities were changing faster than clothes—she might as well be called Ever-Changing Jiu Yue.

Outside, the two had already started plotting how to spend the silver.