The Tofu Queen: A Modern Woman's Ancient Kingdom Journey

Jiang Huaiyu had never imagined that getting electrocuted could be so terrifying. The excruciating pain was unlike anything she had experienced, as if it had left an indelible mark on her very being. Even as her consciousness returned, her body remained weak and lifeless.

Suddenly, the soft wailing of a baby reached her ears. The cries were tender and pitiful, with occasional hiccups between sobs. Despite herself, Jiang Huaiyu almost laughed. Then confusion set in—who would bring a baby to her hospital room? Could it be her cousin and his wife visiting with little Jun?

No, that couldn't be right. Little Jun's cries were loud enough to shake the heavens; this baby sounded far too adorable.

Rather than puzzle over it, Jiang Huaiyu decided to open her eyes—and immediately froze in shock.

She looked around the shabby tile-roofed house, then down at her own clothing, and finally at the baby cradled in her arms.

"What is going on!?"

Swallowing hard, Jiang Huaiyu tried to process her surroundings. She was supposed to be in a hospital room, right? Besides, in this day and age, where could anyone even find such a dilapidated house? Her family would never pull such a cruel prank on her!

A terrifying thought began forming in her mind, one she desperately hoped wasn't true. The air she breathed felt too real to dismiss as a joke. Still, she clung to the idea that this might be some elaborate prank by her friends or family.

Her body, weakened from the "electric shock," protested as she took a few shaky steps while holding the baby. The child, who had been contentedly sucking their thumb since she woke up, seemed oblivious to her distress. By the time Jiang Huaiyu reached a water well in the yard, her arms ached from exertion.

Peering into the water's surface, she saw the reflection of a stunningly beautiful face: bright eyes, delicate features, and a complexion so flawless it seemed otherworldly. But this face was entirely unfamiliar to her.

Her trembling hand reached up to touch her reflection, confirming the truth: this wasn't her body. The hands before her, resembling carved white jade, bore no resemblance to her own. Her left hand should have a scar—proof of a childhood accident—and be far less delicate.

Even her clothes, a finely embroidered pale yellow gown, were completely foreign. By now, Jiang Huaiyu could no longer deny the horrifying truth: she had somehow traveled back in time!

Jiang Huaiyu prided herself on her resilience, but this revelation took some time to digest. Just moments ago, she had been attending a gathering for historical enthusiasts. Her friends had joked that with her proficiency in the four arts—music, chess, calligraphy, and painting—she'd thrive if she ever ended up in ancient times. She had laughed off the idea as absurd.

After the event, she had accidentally spilled water onto her computer's power cord while reaching for her mug. The next thing she knew, her world went dark in a searing flash of pain—and now here she was, facing a strange new reality.

Her thoughts shifted to practical concerns. Whose body was she inhabiting? Who was the baby in her arms? Was he her child? Worse, was there a brutish husband or a domineering mother-in-law lurking inside the house?

The questions swirled as she hesitated under the scorching sun. Finally, for the baby's sake, she stepped into the house. Her relief was immediate upon spotting documents laid out on an old wooden table: a land deed and household registry, both bearing her current name, Jiang Huaiyu.

The registry listed her as the head of the household, with no mention of a husband. A wave of relief washed over her—at least she wouldn't have to navigate a forced marriage to some stranger.

The house was small but functional. The courtyard was enclosed by a sturdy stone-and-wood fence, with a well and a chicken coop. There were two main rooms: the larger one served as a living area for dining or hosting guests, while the smaller room contained a single wooden bed—bare of any bedding.

The kitchen, though modest, held a few surprises. A bundle of firewood, a small sack of rice, a head of cabbage, and even a slab of pork sat by the hearth. For someone starting over in an unfamiliar era, it felt like a treasure trove.

Jiang Huaiyu strapped the baby to her back with a cloth she found in the bedroom, ignoring its dusty state. As she searched the house, she discovered a single tael of silver. It wasn't much, and she had no idea how long it would last, but her grumbling stomach reminded her to focus on the immediate problem: food.

"Great," she muttered, wiping the sweat from her brow. "Music and chess aren't exactly useful survival skills right now."

With surprising ease, she started a fire using flint and dry grass. A pot of water began to boil on the hearth, and she added washed rice to make porridge. The baby, strapped securely to her back, gurgled in curiosity at the activity.

"Just a little longer," she cooed, her heart softening at his adorable gaze. Although she didn't know who this child was, the registry listed him as her son. That was enough for her to make a promise: she would protect him.

As the rice porridge simmered, Jiang Huaiyu decided on a name for the boy: Jiang Runjing—a name as gentle and serene as dew under sunlight. For a nickname, she thought of her favorite winter snack, sugar buns, and couldn't help but smile.

From that moment, the boy was lovingly called Tangbao, or Sugar Bun.

Tangbao seemed to recognize his new name, responding with a cheerful "ah!" each time she called it.

After feeding him his first meal of softened rice porridge, Jiang Huaiyu felt a strange sense of contentment despite her dire situation. However, a sharp voice from the neighboring house shattered the peace.

"You useless girl! How dare you ruin your brother's clothes! I'll teach you a lesson!"

Jiang Huaiyu tensed at the sound of a woman's shrill scolding, followed by a child's sobs. She instinctively covered Tangbao's ears.

"Just like your good-for-nothing father!" the voice continued. "Lusting after the new neighbor like a filthy pig! You'll both die in the gutter!"

Exhaustion overtook Jiang Huaiyu, but she resolved to stay strong. Tomorrow, she would confront her neighbors and set boundaries. If she had learned anything in her modern life, it was that bullies only backed down when faced with strength.

That night, Jiang Huaiyu struggled to sleep. The hard bed offered no comfort, and the oppressive heat was unbearable without modern conveniences like air conditioning or even a fan.

Tangbao, despite his angelic temperament, became a target for mosquitoes. His chubby arms and cheeks were soon dotted with red welts. Jiang Huaiyu sang soft lullabies to him in the dark, swatting away the buzzing pests with a makeshift fan.

As exhaustion claimed her, she vowed to adapt to this new life.

The memories she'd inherited revealed an era both rich with potential and lacking in refinement. The chaos of warring states had ended two centuries ago, leaving behind a dynasty yearning for peace but devoid of cultural and spiritual fulfillment.

This world lacked the elegance of her time—no tea ceremonies, no mastery of incense arts, no sophisticated cuisine. The possibilities were endless, and Jiang Huaiyu's determination burned as brightly as the stars above.

This wasn't the life she had planned, but she would make it her own.