PWE – Chapter 1 A Mother’s Return

“Mom, please don’t die, I beg you, don’t die.”

The cry of a child drifted into Xiao Wange’s ears.

Her closed eyelids trembled slightly, annoyed by the sound.

She forced herself to open her still-weary eyes, but what entered her sight shocked her.

In front of her stood a child in thin clothing, his little face flushed red like a monkey’s bottom. He looked no more than three or four years old and was clearly malnourished.

His eyes were swollen red from crying, brimming with tears. But when he saw her awaken, a faint light instantly lit up in his gaze.

Around them, the walls were made of mud bricks. One of them had a crack, as if a strong storm could topple it at any moment.

The furniture in the room was sparse: just a simple wardrobe, a desk, and the bed beneath her.

Judging by the house, this was a poor, backward countryside.

She was confused. Just moments ago she had been asleep in her own elegantly decorated apartment—so how had she woken up in such a rural place? Who had brought her here?

“Mom, you finally woke up. Please don’t die, okay?” The child’s eyes, shining for a moment, now turned timid as he looked at her, clearly a little afraid.

Xiao Wange frowned, just about to speak, when a sudden sharp pain struck her head. A surge of memories that did not belong to her rushed into her mind.

When she finished absorbing them, she stared up at the cobwebbed rafters and sighed.

This really was the countryside—and not just any countryside, but the 1980s countryside!

Everyone knew how backward the 1980s still were.

And the body she had transmigrated into bore the same name as hers: Xiao Wange.

But the original girl was only 19 years old, much younger than her.

Three months ago, this original Xiao Wange had married into this family. Her husband, Zhan Zeyan, was a soldier. On their wedding night, he received urgent orders and immediately returned to his unit.

Before leaving, he gave her 500 yuan and told her to take good care of his son—the very little boy standing before her.

The original girl had intended to do so and live properly. But a woman named Bai Caixuan had constantly sown discord, saying raising another’s child was pointless, that he would never repay her. She had egged her on to abuse the boy and even suggested selling him!

The original had indeed planned to take the boy to the county in a few days to sell him. But before she could act, she tripped at the doorstep today, fell hard, and never woke up again.

That was when she, Xiao Wange, had transmigrated here.

Now, looking at this thin, frail child, she realized that he had once been cared for by his grandmother, who had raised him plump and healthy. Only after the grandmother’s death, with no one left to care for him, had Zhan Zeyan been pressured into marrying the original girl.

But in just three short months, she had turned a chubby child into this emaciated little figure.

Her fingers curled tightly, and she couldn’t help but despise the original girl. No matter how much Bai Caixuan provoked, how could she bear to abuse a child like this? Look at him—those starry, watery eyes, a delicate and pretty face even now.

How could anyone’s heart be so cruel? If it were her, she would only want to love and protect him.

Though waking in such a poor, backward time made her heart ache, looking at this child softened her grief. She sat up and gently told him, “Don’t worry, I won’t die. I still have to take care of you. How could I die?”

Little Zhan Jinzhao froze, eyes wide with disbelief.

Mom’s voice was so gentle. She had never spoken to him this way before. And she said she would take care of him—did she really mean it?

…

From here, she noticed he wore only thin underclothes despite the bitter cold. The original girl hadn’t let him wear a padded jacket, seemingly intent on freezing him. She found one remaining jacket in the wardrobe, quickly put it on him, and discovered his body was burning hot—he had a fever.

As she went to check his pulse, she noticed movement beneath the skin on his nape—like something wriggling. Alarmed, she examined him and confirmed the horrifying truth: there was a deadly gu worm inside him.

This parasite would mimic a common fever, then kill its host after seven days. No ordinary doctor—or even modern machines—could detect it, and medicine only accelerated death.

Who would be so vicious as to plant this in a child? It wasn’t the original girl—her memories confirmed she knew nothing of such things. Could it be Bai Caixuan? But why, if she already planned to have him sold? Unless… she wanted to ensure he died no matter what.

Rage surged in Xiao Wange’s heart. Whoever had done this, she would uncover the truth and never forgive them.

She calmed the child with a smile, coaxed him to sit quietly, and went to prepare sugar water—secretly adding a protective talisman she drew with her own blood.

After he drank it, his fever faded almost instantly. The boy was stunned, then beamed at her with innocent gratitude.

Later, when she cooked a soft steamed egg for him, he was shocked again—Mom had never treated him this kindly. Tears welled in his eyes.

But just then, voices sounded outside the courtyard. His great-aunt and cousin were telling the village chief that he was being abused and demanding to take him away.

The child turned pale with fear and clung to her: “Mom, please don’t let me go to Great-Aunt’s house, okay?”

Recalling the abuse he suffered there, his little body trembled.

Xiao Wange’s heart melted at his fear. Smiling gently, she promised, “Zhao Zhao, how could I ever send you to someone else’s home? As long as I’m here, you’ll stay with me.”