After Transmigration, Her Whole Family Are Villains-Chapter 129: Whenever I’m sad, I go to hit you

......

The ants retreated like a receding tide.

Jiang Mianmian also stopped crying.

She reached out to wipe her father's tears.

"Father, don't cry. There, there," she cooed.

Jiang Mianmian's eyes were red, yet she couldn't help but comfort the man before her.

He had a handsome face.

His skull was well-proportioned and attractive.

In truth, he had many small flaws: he was a picky eater, possibly afraid of the dark, prone to showing off, and fond of deceiving others. He might just be an extremely good-looking scoundrel, but he was her father.

He, too, could cry and feel heartbroken.

Jiang Changtian laughed.

He laughed through his unstoppable tears.

Jiang Mianmian, with her exceptionally keen hearing, felt a bit deflated.

Perhaps it was because she had just been born and had been constantly straining her ears to listen from the corner of the bed, developing her hearing to an extreme degree. This allowed her to overhear her father and brother's conversation from such a distance.

Although they spoke softly, she still heard everything. fгee𝑤ebɳoveɭ.cøm

While her drawing was quite outrageous, she felt that given Grandma's intelligence, she would have figured it out sooner or later. It seemed better to let Grandma come to terms with it earlier.

However, she hadn't expected it to uncover so many secrets.

And it had nearly sent Grandma away.

Feeling a bit guilty, Jiang Mianmian thought she should add something to Grandma's tea tonight.

She pondered that if she hadn't traveled through time, she would have been just as her brother described - an infant without any chance to grow up.

The thought still made her sad.

Today's sunset was as red as fresh blood, a suffocating sight.

The distant, rolling mountains looked like monsters, inspiring terror.

Even the gentle evening breeze felt like a ghost's touch, making one uncomfortable.

Emotions truly could sway a person. When happy, even seeing a pile of dung could feel like good luck.

When sad, even a flower could seem poisonous.

Jiang Mianmian appeared listless during dinner.

Aunt Yin, who had been scared to the point of her heart nearly stopping - it felt like it had actually stopped for a few beats - found herself unable to scold the little one. The child seemed deflated before Aunt Yin could even reprimand her.

Instead, Aunt Yin had to feed her and try to cheer her up. She must have owed this family a great debt in her previous life.

Jiang Mianmian noticed that her father and brother appeared normal as they ate dinner together.

They seemed harmonious.

There were no visible changes, except that after the meal, her father said he had to work overtime.

Her brother went along with him.

Jiang Mianmian didn't know what rebels did every day, as she had no access to that world.

At home, she felt the changes: the house gradually grew larger, their life slowly improved, and they transitioned from a purely working-class family to one with a hint of petty bourgeois status.

They had transportation (two horses and a carriage).

They had help (Aunt Yin as a tutor).

They had a house (self-built, and gradually expanding).

They had savings (her mother had almost dug out several rooms in the cellar, presumably hiding treasures).

Qin Luoxia noticed the change in her husband and son's mood but assumed it was just some matter of business. She didn't inquire further.

Seeing that Aunt Yin seemed energetic enough to take care of Mianmian, she figured there wasn't much of a problem.

Qin Luoxia breathed a small sigh of relief. She had been very afraid that something might happen. This past year felt like a gift, with life being so good that sometimes she worried she might be dreaming, occasionally pinching herself to make sure.

Jiang Yu didn't know what had happened but felt the atmosphere was a bit strange.

"Grandma, are you alright? Why did you faint earlier? Is it because you're too tired from taking care of Mianmian? If so, let Mianmian sleep with me, I'll look after her."

Taking care of both sisters was exhausting; it wasn't just one person's effort, you're part of the problem too.

Aunt Yin wearily rubbed her brow and said, "It's nothing, I'll be fine after a night's rest."

It was better to keep the two girls separate. The older girl, though sometimes a bit foolish, was at least normal and easier to teach.

The younger one was... difficult to describe. Better not to let them influence each other.

In the evening, back in the room, Aunt Yin helped Mianmian wash her little feet, cleaning between her toes thoroughly. She changed her into her sleeping clothes, let down her hair to brush it, and helped her brush her teeth using the tool she had requested - holes poked in wood with horsehair bristles threaded through, creating a dense little brush specifically for cleaning teeth.

Getting this little ancestor ready for bed was a whole routine, more complex than serving a palace master.

After washing up, she still had to massage her tummy, calves, and arms. Mianmian had a look of calm enjoyment, completely at ease.

Thank goodness she had come, otherwise, how could they have managed with such a demanding child?

In the room, from toothbrushes to combs, from footwear to sleeping clothes, even to the covered chamber pot, everything - she could come up with new ideas for all of it, strange and peculiar, all for the sake of comfort.

She knew that she wouldn't have an easy life in this lifetime.

It wasn't in her fate.

After tending to the little ancestor, her back was so sore she could barely straighten up.

Then she watched as the little one wobbled over with a cup of water, wearing her special little pajamas, her hair soft and smooth, her teeth fresh and fragrant, her hands white and clean.

"Grandma, have some water. You've worked hard."

Her heart melted.

Her back didn't hurt anymore.

Aunt Yin took the cup and drank it all in one go.

She even praised, "It's so sweet. Thank you, Mianmian."

It really was sweet. When the little ancestor wasn't being troublesome, she was truly thoughtful.

Having no children of her own due to an illness contracted in the palace that left her unable to bear children, Aunt Yin had a particularly complex set of emotions towards children.

She liked them yet feared them, thinking she would dislike children because she had seen how cruel and selfish they could be.

In truth, after she couldn't leave this courtyard, she hadn't tried again. It wasn't that she truly couldn't escape.

It was because on that morning, the little girl's smile was too sweet.

She nestled against her, falling asleep in her arms.

She was completely unguarded with her.

She kissed her.

She sweetly called out, "Grandma, Grandma," like a little duckling quacking, calling out dozens of times a day.

After praising the child, Aunt Yin took a deep breath before carefully bringing up today's drawing.

Worried about fainting again, she leaned against the bed as she began to talk.

Jiang Mianmian sat on the bed like a good child, her feet bare as she couldn't sleep with socks on.

Her little feet were pale and delicate.

"Mianmian, why did you draw such things?" Aunt Yin asked cautiously.

"I wanted to."

"When have you seen such things?"

"I don't know."

"Could you draw it again next time?"

Jiang Mianmian nodded. She could. This was a subject she got an A in, a rare course where she didn't lag behind.

Heart, liver, spleen, stomach, kidneys - she could draw them all, and in three dimensions too.

"But what's the use of drawing these?" Aunt Yin asked, puzzled, aside from scaring people.

Jiang Mianmian answered seriously, "It can cure illnesses. Zi Xiaochong said he had a head ailment, something growing inside his head. Cut it out and he'll be fine."

Aunt Yin: ......

Zi Xiaochong knew it was the Young Lord Zi.

She had heard that the Young Lord Zi was ill.

But no one had ever imagined that his head could be cut open. Wouldn't that result in death?

Could a head that's been cut open be closed again?

Aunt Yin felt the matter was becoming complicated and thought it necessary to communicate with Commander Zi.

She hugged the little girl and spoke soothingly, "We can't show these drawings to others carelessly. They might be frightened. We fear the unknown, and if we can't find answers, we might try to eliminate the problem, making it disappear."

Jiang Mianmian nodded, her cheeks puffed out.

She showed that she had learned her lesson.

But she wasn't happy about it.

That night, Aunt Yin held Mianmian as they slept.

That same night, Jiang Changtian returned to the small, cluttered room where he once worked. He gazed at the markings on the windowsill and the door visible through the window.

Another door faced that one outside.

Behind that door was the Jiang family home.

He had already given up on investigating his own ancestry.

As long as he wasn't the child of the Jiang family's old madam, he didn't care whose child he was.

It didn't matter, as long as his family was doing well.

But when he thought about the tragic life Feng had described,

He could barely breathe.

It felt as if his heart had been violently ripped out.

It was more painful than dying a thousand deaths.

It wasn't enough. What he had done wasn't enough, far from it.

This time, he knocked on the Jiang family's door again.

Not kneeling outside like a dog, begging for it to be opened.

He kicked the door open with one foot.

Behind him, Jiang Feng wore armor, wielded a long sword, and wore a mask. He led a group of similarly equipped men, not many, just fifty elite soldiers.

These were men personally trained and selected by Jiang Feng. He always felt that the food and water at home might be better, so he would reward those who performed exceptionally well with mysterious "strength pills," which were actually just ordinary medicinal pills made from wild onions, wild vegetables, and some common herbs from home.

But those who ate them became extremely zealous, believing they had truly consumed immortal medicine.

People these days all believed in immortal medicine, as the current emperor was its biggest devotee.

These fifty men followed orders strictly, received training from Jiang Feng, and occasionally underwent brainwashing and manipulation from Jiang Changtian.

They were unwaveringly loyal.

That night, darkness enveloped the Jiang Manor.

...