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Translator: penny
Chapter: 2
Chapter Title: Reincarnated as the Son of the Three Kingdoms' Noble Line
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As he opened his eyes, a hazy light revealed an unfamiliar ceiling flickering into view.
At first, it felt like he was trapped in a dream.
He tried to move, but his entire body felt heavy, his limbs refusing to obey.
A suffocating pressure, as if submerged deep underwater, overwhelmed him.
'How badly am I hurt?'
Gyu-hyeok was gripped by anxiety.
As his vision slowly cleared, he realized this was neither a hospital nor his home.
The walls were worn, the windows patched with aged wood.
'Where the hell is this?'
Suddenly, he noticed how low his viewpoint was to the floor.
Then, the soft, downy touch brushed his fingertips—the unmistakable, pudgy feel of a baby's fist.
'A baby...? No way...'
Before he could gather his wits, a shadowy figure approached through the blur.
He blinked a few times, and the image sharpened: a woman holding a blade to her own chest.
Instinctively, he cried out, 'Stop!'
"Wah... baby!"
The newborn's wail erupted.
Clang—
The woman dropped the sharp object and rushed to Gyu-hyeok in a panic.
Soon, droplets fell onto his face.
Unable to open his eyes against the falling water, Gyu-hyeok gradually made out the stranger's face.
She gazed at him with tender yet sorrowful eyes, carefully cradling him in her arms.
"Baek, oh Baek."
'Baek?'
Gyu-hyeok's mind went blank.
Her voice, laced with deep sorrow and profound relief, stirred emotions he hadn't felt in ages.
Warmth.
His throat trembled like a baby fighting back sobs.
'This has to be a dream...'
He desperately tried to deny it, but the sensations of his body and the woman's warm embrace were too vivid.
In his confusion, Gyu-hyeok began to slowly accept the situation.
"Baek, you're alive. Your mother was going to follow you..."
Her voice quivered, her fingertips tense as they stroked him.
She wrapped him gently in a small blanket, her trembling hand caressing his forehead.
Gyu-hyeok's mind was a whirlwind, but one thing was clear: this woman loved him with all her heart, overwhelmed by relief and joy simply because he lived.
"I thought you'd left me for the heavens too... Thank goodness. Thank goodness."
She murmured through her tears.
Her eyes held deep grief, relief, and a hint of unspoken fear.
Gyu-hyeok instinctively understood.
This child had been stillborn, and he had taken its place.
The mother, grieving her loss, had meant to follow.
He didn't know why, but that tragic past was gone now—a new life had begun.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
'Baek.'
Accepting his new name, Baek struggled to comprehend this world so different from his own.
But a newborn's body was frail beyond measure.
The slightest mental effort sent him drifting into deep sleep before he knew it.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
"Huff... huff..."
Baek awoke to ragged breathing and struggled to push down the swaddling cloth to survey his surroundings.
The world he saw was pure hell.
Everything was dyed red in flames and blood.
The rioters' shouts echoed amid the screams, hitting Baek like a blow to the head.
"May the yellow heavens replace the blue skies!"
'The Yellow Turban Rebellion! I was already dreading how to survive as a newborn, and now this nightmare backdrop.'
Even as Baek despaired at the grim reality, the woman fled the rioters, pressing on.
Reaching the riverbank, her legs sank into the mud, her body swaying like a willow.
Pain stabbed her calves and thighs from postpartum agony, yet she clutched the bundle to her chest without pause.
Fueled by the faint breaths from within.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
Over two weeks of marching, yet the rioters rampaged everywhere.
Her milk dried from starvation; in the ruins left by the fleeing mob, she scraped millet grains from the dirt until her knuckles swelled.
She chewed them into a paste and smeared it on the baby's lips.
Baek tried to swallow instinctively but choked.
"Gah!"
She patted his back urgently, whispering,
"Baek, you have to swallow."
Her desperate plea helped him force it down, and she finally snatched a brief nap holding him.
Gazing up at her sleeping face, Baek felt a swirl of emotions.
Foremost was the aching parental love he'd lost after his parents' death in the accident, absent for over thirty years.
Yet he could do nothing.
'I don't know if we'll survive, but I'll never forget your suffering.'
As the woman hurried onward, their eyes caught an old man sitting under a Chinese parasol tree by the river.
He glanced at the bundle, sighed, and handed over a handful of millet from his belt.
"Follow the Huai River south. Jing Province will give you some breathing room."
She thanked him profusely even as they departed.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
Days later, in a pouring rain, she dragged her exhausted body into a slope cave for rest.
Boom—
Thunder roared, and earth collapsed.
She shielded him with her back, hugging tighter as rocks battered her shoulder, blood filling the air.
"Baek, it's okay. Everything will be okay."
Her voice, wrung from staking her life, pierced his ears.
Unable to help amid her pain, Baek cursed his helplessness, exhaling something like a sob.
That breath rang like an alarm, but the landslide grew fiercer.
She endured screaming until consciousness failed her.
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The long night passed, and Baek dimly regained awareness.
The faint breathing at his head.
'Thank goodness.'
But the unnatural heat from her embrace spelled doom.
Time would silence those vital breaths forever.
'No! I can't lose her first too!'
Yet a newborn could only...
"Wah! Wah!"
No response to his throat-tearing cries fueled his panic.
No time for despair.
He screamed with all his might again.
"Waaaaah!"
Someone stirred at the noise, digging through the dirt.
"Over here!"
Relief washed over Baek as darkness claimed him.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
Whispers roused Baek.
Dawn light filtered through rafters, tiled eaves visible.
Instead of crude thatch walls, clean white plaster and wood greeted him.
He couldn't move, wrapped snug in quilted cloth, so he lay still, listening.
"How can we ever repay this kindness..."
His mother's trembling voice came first.
Knowing she lived eased his drowsy heart.
"Think nothing of it."
The elderly woman's voice was low and gracious, streaked with white hair.
"These are hard times for all. Where are you from?"
"From Yeonam."
She clasped her hands in reply.
The old woman's narrow eyes flickered.
"Traveling so far with a newborn... Must've suffered greatly to reach Xiangyang."
The warm words reddened her eyes.
The old woman set down her cup askew and asked,
"What of the child's father?"
A brief silence, then clear tears fell from Duseon's eyes.
"He left with a unit to subdue the Xiongnu raiders. Our village was raided in his absence; we scattered. I fled to Yeonam, but the Yellow Turban chaos swept me here."
The old woman gently covered Duseon's hand.
"The storms of chaos claim lives too easily. Yet you and the child survived—heaven's will, I'd say."
Duseon swallowed tears, bowing her head.
"You'll need time to fully recover. The rear quarters are empty—stay there with the child and regain your strength."
She bowed deeply.
"Your kindness overwhelms us."
"Nonsense. And focus on that little one."
Regret softened the old woman's eyes.
"I've lost husband and child too. I've received much grace; now it's time to repay. Think only of your babe."
Duseon glanced at Baek, then nodded resolutely.
"I hate to impose, but we'll accept."
The old woman smiled kindly.
"Since we'll share a home, let's exchange names. I'm Sunju, the aged matriarch of the Jin Clan."
Duseon hesitated at Sunju's prompt.
Sunju waved it off.
"No need if it's painful."
"What would I hide from my benefactor? I'm Duseon."
Sunju's brow furrowed briefly like rippling water, then smoothed into a warm smile.
Turning, she instructed the servants.
"Warm the rear quarters, prepare their room and porridge at once."
"Yes."
"I'll take my leave then."
Dismissing Duseon's repeated thanks with a wave, Sunju departed. Duseon approached the bedding, peering carefully at Baek.
"Baek..."
Her whispering fingers trembled on his cheek.
He longed to comfort her weary face but couldn't in this body.
Instead, he gently grasped her slender finger.
A soft smile bloomed on Duseon's lips for the first time in ages.
"Your quarters are ready. This way, please."
Cradling the baby, Duseon followed cautiously.
Crossing the courtyard to the rear, the room held fresh straw mats, thick blankets, and the faint aroma of steaming rice porridge.
She sighed in relief, sitting and stretching her legs fully for the first time.
Her calves still swelled, but the warm air flowing between walls brought long-forgotten peace.
First feeding Baek the porridge, Duseon ate the rest.
Watching her, Baek lifted his blanket-buried head to gaze at the lantern-lit ceiling.
Just days ago, smothered in dirt; now, under tiles, inhaling rising porridge steam.
With some respite, thoughts crowded his mind.
He'd idly fantasized entering his beloved Romance of the Three Kingdoms world.
Scheming as a strategist to turn battles, dueling enemy generals to boost morale, leading heroes to unify the realm.
But reality was worlds apart.
Unification? Lives were cheaper than flies; even one meal was a battle.
'Scraping dirt for millet just to eat.'
The thought that even that was luck brought a hollow chuckle.
Duseon looked at him, her pale lips regaining color from the warm meal.
He'd resisted at first, but her maternal devotion over a month's ordeal made her his mother.
'Forget grand dreams. Surviving with Mother comes first.'