“Who saves someone like that? We’ve never seen anything like this in our lives.”

“Exactly! Get out of the way already!”

“Village chief, say something!”

“…”

The scene was chaotic, but Mu Shi’an stood his ground without budging.

Song Nianchu’s hands never stopped moving, continuing chest compressions without pause.

“Stop wasting your effort. The child is already gone,” said the man who had been carrying the child upside down while running earlier.

The child’s mother, already weeping uncontrollably, nearly fainted at these words.

Yet Song Nianchu refused to give up. After completing another round of chest compressions, she bent down to perform rescue breaths on the child.

After several cycles, finally, a loud “Waaah!” erupted—the child began to cry.

Only then did Song Nianchu turn the child onto her side, gently patting her back to help her cough up the water she had inhaled.

“My baby, my precious baby!” Hearing her child’s cries, the mother scrambled forward on her hands and knees, pulling the child into a tight embrace.

Mu Shi’an turned immediately at the sound of the child’s cries.

Song Nianchu stepped aside, watching the mother and daughter weep in each other’s arms, her eyes softening with emotion.

Mu Shi’an’s gaze on her deepened, though she remained unaware. Instead, she walked over to Wu Zhenggui.

“Uncle Zhenggui, what exactly happened? How could a perfectly good boat capsize like this?”

The people of Qinghe Fishing Village grew up by the sea, learning to swim before they could even crawl. Drowning incidents were almost unheard of—unless extreme weather struck during fishing.

But the sea had been calm these past few days. There was no reason for a fishing boat to overturn.

“It was all because of Baobei’s father. Today wasn’t our village’s scheduled fishing day, but you know how it is with their family. Her grandmother is bedridden with a serious illness, and they need a lot of money every month for medicine. Baobei’s father wanted to try his luck at sea. I took pity on him and agreed, never expecting they’d run into Yang Dafu’s boat. Without a word, his crew rammed into Baobei’s father’s boat and capsized it.”

“Baobei’s father used all his strength to push her to safety, but he was swept away by the waves. They haven’t even found his body.” Wu Zhenggui’s voice trembled with grief.

“Uncle Zhenggui, how could you be so reckless? The fishing schedules for each village are strictly set by the brigade. How could you let Baobei’s father go out on another village’s fishing day?” Song Nianchu frowned.

“He knelt and begged me! He swore he wouldn’t cross boundaries, just gather some small fish and shrimp near the shore to trade for his mother’s medicine. It was a matter of life and death—I couldn’t refuse…” Wu Zhenggui was now consumed by regret.

To prevent conflicts between fishing villages, the brigade assigned specific fishing days each month.

That didn’t mean boats were entirely forbidden outside those days—small-scale fishing near their own shores was usually overlooked. At worst, the brigade would issue a reprimand.

But Yang Dafu had a grudge against their village. He had bullied them relentlessly until Song Nianchu, after growing up, suddenly displayed astonishing strength one day, forcing him to back off.

This time, however, Baobei’s father had gone out alone, giving Yang Dafu the perfect opportunity to strike.

Song Nianchu’s expression darkened as she watched the grieving widow and orphan clinging to each other.

“This can’t just be left like this!”

“But this time, our village is in the wrong. And his father is the brigade leader. Even if you take this to the brigade, no one will stand up for us.” Wu Zhenggui’s voice was thick with despair.

“So Baobei’s father just dies for nothing?” Song Nianchu clenched her fists at her sides.

“Ah-Chu, I know you’re furious, but the fishing ban is about to start. If we stir up trouble now and the brigade leader bars us from fishing, the whole village will starve.” Wu Zhenggui seemed to have aged a decade in an instant.

Song Nianchu fell silent. In the year since she had transmigrated here, she had spent the first half of it bedridden, recovering from injuries.

She had survived only because of the kindness of Wu Zhenggui, his wife, and the villagers. Later, to avoid suspicion that she wasn’t the original owner of this body, she had kept to herself, living quietly.

Even knowing the village’s hardships, she had only tried to help by maximizing their catches during fishing trips.

But most of the fish had to be handed over to the brigade. What remained was barely enough to survive.

During the fishing ban, some days they didn’t even have one full meal.

Song Nianchu glanced around. The villagers were gaunt, their cheeks hollow, their eyes sunken.

Their faces were etched with a numbness that seemed ready to swallow them whole.

How could people on the brink of starvation find the strength to fight for justice?

Suppressing her emotions, Song Nianchu turned and walked home.

She was a businesswoman at heart, accustomed to weighing decisions based on profit.

She didn’t want to be seen as an anomaly, didn’t want to risk being dissected for study. She just wanted to protect herself.

But the mother’s wails, the villagers’ despair—it all pressed down on her until she could barely breathe.

Her steps quickened, so much so that she didn’t notice the ditch ahead.

“Watch out!” Just as Song Nianchu was about to step into empty air, a strong hand yanked her back.

Only then did her thoughts snap back to the present.

“Are you alright?” Mu Shi’an asked, concern lacing his voice.

He had noticed her distress earlier and had followed her.

Yet she had walked straight toward the ditch without even seeing it.

Song Nianchu shook her head, staring at the waist-deep trench.

“I’m fine,” she murmured hoarsely.

“You saved that child. Why do you still look so lost?” Mu Shi’an studied her, confusion in his eyes.

Why?

“If… you had the power to do something, something that could help many people, but held back out of fear—what would you do?” Song Nianchu murmured, her gaze fixed on Mu Shi’an.

For a fleeting moment, something unreadable flickered in Mu Shi’an’s eyes before his expression smoothed over.

“There’s a saying: ‘Every man for himself, or heaven and earth will destroy you.’ Whether animal or human, we’re wired to avoid danger. If the risk is too great, staying put is the wisest choice.”

Song Nianchu blinked, surprised by his answer.

“Life is full of impossible choices. When in doubt, listen to your heart. Whatever you decide, if you can live with it, then it’s the right choice.” Mu Shi’an spoke each word deliberately.

Just like him. He had abandoned better opportunities abroad to return to his homeland, determined to fulfill his ambitions.

Yet before he could even begin, he had been framed, his family exiled.

But he had never regretted coming back.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep