Wang Xiaoming led Wang Dong'er through the covered corridor toward the rear courtyard.
The old locust tree was still in the courtyard, in exactly the same spot, only a little thicker.
He crouched down and pushed aside the fallen leaves and loose soil on the north side of its roots.
The earth was smooth and level. There was nothing there.
He dug another two fingers deep, filling the spaces between his fingers with damp black soil. It was completely undisturbed, without so much as a scratch.
Wang Xiaoming crouched there, his brow slowly furrowing.
Where was the mark he'd carved?
How could it be gone?
Could he really have gone to a parallel world?
That also came as a relief to Wang Xiaoming.
It seemed he had probably gone to some parallel world, rather than the past of his own timeline.
If it was this timeline he had to change, Qian Renxue would probably cease to exist.
So he could create a world with a normal Bibi Dong?
"Big brother?"
Wang Dong'er stood beneath the covered corridor, watching him cautiously. "What are you looking for?"
"It's nothing."
Wang Xiaoming brushed the dirt from his hands and stood up, pushing his doubts to the back of his mind.
Wang Dong'er walked over to him and tentatively tugged his sleeve with her little hand. "Big brother, are you unhappy?"
Wang Xiaoming looked down at her little face.
It suddenly occurred to him that if he couldn't make sense of all those twists and turns, he might as well set them aside for now.
He bent down and pinched her cheek. It was soft and warm. She was a living, breathing person, and he had brought her back.
"I'm not unhappy. Quite the opposite, I'm very happy... Come on, I'll show you where you'll be staying."
Wang Dong'er held his hand as he led her through the covered corridor, exclaiming softly as they walked, "It's so big!
"This courtyard is bigger than my whole village used to be! Big brother, what does your family do?"
"My father's a viscount, so our family has a bit of standing, though not much... But remember this."
He stopped, crouched down, and looked earnestly into her purple eyes.
"Don't mention a single word of the name Bibi Dong outside, understand? From now on, you're my little sister, Wang Dong'er of the viscount's residence."
Otherwise, Qian Renxue would very likely come at him with a sword...
Wang Dong'er froze for a moment, then nodded firmly. "I'll remember."
"Good girl. In a couple of years, when you're six, I'll take you to awaken your Martial Soul."
Wang Xiaoming straightened up, his tone growing a little lighter. "You can go back to calling yourself Bibi Dong then if you want, but not now.
"For now, just be my little sister Wang Dong'er, all right?"
By then, he would tell her about the difference in time and space and see what Bibi Dong thought.
If she wanted to go back, he would tell Bibi Dong a few things to watch out for. She absolutely mustn't end up going astray again.
If she wanted to stay here, he would let her remain Wang Dong'er.
"Okay."
Wang Dong'er answered with a smile, her purple eyes curving into two crescent moons.
Meng Zhuang was still asleep in a side room.
When Wang Xiaoming pushed the door open and entered, the old man was sprawled on the bed, a glistening trickle of drool at the corner of his mouth. His snores sounded like bellows being pumped.
Yue Guan had used far too much of the drug. There wasn't a soul awake in the courtyard, and this old man was sleeping soundly.
There wasn't a single person in his viscount's residence who could fight.
Granted, they had been up against a Titled Douluo... but that wouldn't stop him from docking those fellows' wages later.
Wang Xiaoming glanced at the water clock on the table, then at Meng Zhuang's completely unguarded old face.
He took off his shoes, climbed barefoot onto the bed, and stretched out his right foot, plugging Meng Zhuang's nostrils squarely with it.
Wang Dong'er stood in the doorway, still clutching her unfinished lollipop, watching Wang Xiaoming's handiwork with wide eyes.
She watched as the old man's face slowly changed from its normal color to red, then purple, and finally the color of an eggplant!
Meng Zhuang's mouth fell open involuntarily, and he began gulping in air. But his nose was completely blocked, his chest heaved violently, and a rasping sound came from his throat.
"Big brother..."
Wang Dong'er called out softly. She was a little afraid the old man would suffocate...
"Don't worry, I know when to stop..."
Wang Xiaoming kept his foot on the bridge of Meng Zhuang's nose and even wiggled his toes. The old fellow was thick-skinned; a little suffocation wouldn't hurt him.
Before he had finished speaking, Meng Zhuang's eyes snapped open.
The old man's cloudy eyes couldn't focus. They wandered over the ceiling beams before following the foot all the way to Wang Xiaoming's laughing face.
"Mmmph, mmmph..."
He hurriedly reached up to pull Wang Xiaoming's foot away.
Seeing that, Wang Xiaoming nimbly pulled his leg back and jumped off the bed, landing barefoot on the icy floor tiles.
Meng Zhuang gasped for breath, the tip of his nose bright red from being stepped on, his nostrils still flaring.
He pushed himself upright, but the bump on the back of his head touched the bed, making him grimace in pain again.
Meng Zhuang's memory was still stuck on what had happened earlier, when he had been about to give orders for dinner.
Strange, where had the bump on the back of his head come from?
And how had he fallen asleep?
Even so, he hurriedly said to Wang Xiaoming, "Young master... are you hungry? Shall I go give orders for dinner?"
Once he had caught his breath, he finally noticed the little girl standing in the doorway and asked in confusion, "And who is this?"
Wang Xiaoming pulled Wang Dong'er in front of him and rested a hand on her shoulder. "She's the little sister I've taken in. Her name is Wang Dong'er.
"She'll be living here from now on. Make a note of it and get her whatever she needs."
Meng Zhuang looked at Wang Dong'er's purple hair and purple eyes, then at Wang Xiaoming's matter-of-fact expression, and fell silent for two breaths.
No matter how he looked at her, she didn't seem much like a little sister, but more like a child bride... Still, whatever the young master said went.
"Yes, young master. This old servant understands."
He agreed readily, without asking why, where she came from, or what kind of family she had.
As long as Wang Xiaoming liked her, he wouldn't ask about anything.
"I'll arrange a room right away and have the kitchen set another place at the table. Are there any foods you can't eat, Miss Dong'er?"
The sudden formal address flustered Wang Dong'er, and she instinctively shrank behind Wang Xiaoming. "N-no, there's nothing I can't eat... I'm easy to feed..."
Wang Xiaoming answered for her. "She eats anything. It's fine, just have the kitchen make whatever they like. I can eat anything she doesn't."
"Uncle Meng, later, have the residence's tailor prepare a few changes of clothes for her, and..."
He thought for a moment, then looked down at Wang Dong'er. "From now on, if there's anything you want to eat, just tell Grandpa Meng here. He's our family's chief steward. He can arrange everything for you."
Wang Dong'er poked half her head out from behind Wang Xiaoming and looked at the old man, who had nearly suffocated just now and was now wearing a kindly expression. "Hello, Grandpa Meng."
When Meng Zhuang heard her, he broke into a smile that piled his whole face into wrinkles.
No little girl in the residence had ever called him that before.
"Ah, good, good! You're too polite, miss. This old servant will go get everything ready for you right away."
He swung himself off the bed. The bump on the back of his head made him stagger, but he soon bustled out.