Transmigrated into a farmer's lucky charm, all the villains in the family panicked.

By the time it got dark at the Chen residence, it was completely dark.

Although the plaque outside reads "Chen Residence," the master of this house is none other than His Highness the Crown Prince.

After dinner, Yan Shijin didn't move from her spot. She leaned against the soft couch by the window, with a cup of herbal tea beside her and a book spread out on her lap.

Yun Shengsheng didn't leave either.

She had been kept in the pile of medicinal herbs by Old Li all day, and now she had a headache and blurred vision. Her small body was swaying on the stool, and she was so sleepy that she could barely keep her eyes open.

But she didn't leave the stool, because Yan Shijin was still waiting for something.

She's waiting too.

When the man in black came to report the news of the refugees today, she heard it clearly; several hundred people had gone towards Ganjiacun.

Her maternal grandparents, cousins, and the whole village were there; maybe her parents were there too.

Her heart was in her throat; she couldn't relax for a moment. She simply stayed by Yan Shijin's side and wouldn't leave.

At least this is the Crown Prince, well-informed. It's better for her to stay by his side than for her to go back and stare blankly.

Every time Old Li came to lift her up, she would point a finger at Yan Shijin and say in a childish voice, "Stay with...brother...I won't leave!"

Yan Shijin glanced at her, but didn't say anything, nor did he tell her to leave. That was tacit consent.

Old Li's mustache twitched as he looked at her mischievous expression.

Seeing that Yan Shijin wasn't annoyed and it wasn't too late, he simply ignored it and sat down to look through medical books.

The happiest person was Butler Chen.

The old man walked back and forth at the door several times, bringing snacks, dried fruit, and then warm water.

Every time he came in, he would sneak a peek at the young master's expression.

He noticed that his young master was noticeably different when the little girl was around. Although his face still had that calm and indifferent expression, he would occasionally take the initiative to look at the little girl, and even smile slightly because of what she said.

If Yun Shengsheng weren't only three years old and a little girl, Steward Chen would have loved to bring the child directly into the manor to be his young master's playmate and study companion.

About fifteen minutes later, the candlelight in the room flickered twice, and the man in black silently entered and knelt before Yan Shijin.

"Master, those hundreds of refugees have almost surrounded Gan Family Village."

Yun Shengsheng was dozing off with her head tilted to the side when she heard the words "Ganjia Village" and immediately woke up.

"However," the man in black continued, "it seems that Gan Family Village was prepared in advance. Each fortress is guarded, and all the able-bodied men are armed, so the defenses look very tight."

Upon hearing this, Yun Shengsheng finally felt a huge weight lifted from her heart.

But before she could fully relax, another thought suddenly popped into her mind.

[In the original storyline, it seems there was no mention of whether Gan Family Village had taken precautions beforehand.]

Even with advance defense, several hundred people still died or were injured. Those refugees are just too formidable. Sigh, can we really get through tonight safely?

Yan Shijin heard her thoughts, lowered her eyelashes, and unconsciously stroked the pages of the book with her fingertips.

There was also such a thing in my past life.

The refugees launched a night attack on Ganjiacun, killing and injuring hundreds, causing a sensation.

He later heard from someone that the attack was successful because Ganjiacun was caught off guard.

But this time, the people of Ganjiacun were not only on guard, they had laid out their defenses several days in advance, with all their forces meticulously planned. How did they know? Who told them?

He turned his head slightly, his gaze falling subtly on the little man, and his eyebrows twitched almost imperceptibly.

Could someone be like him, able to hear the little child's innermost thoughts...?

In Ganjiacun, the torches burned for a very long time.

Yun Huaikang stood on the earthen slope at the village entrance, his eyes fixed on the dark forest opposite. His palms, gripping the carrying pole, were sweaty, and a chill ran through them in the wind. The other young men beside him didn't dare to relax either; some, their eyelids drooping with sleep, pinched their thighs with their fingernails.

Suddenly, someone whispered, "There's movement!"

Yun Huaikang's heart skipped a beat and he looked in the direction the man was pointing.

In the woods, a large patch of dark shadows began to wriggle. He gripped the carrying pole tightly, ready to shout for help, but then realized something was wrong.

Those dark figures weren't coming from this side of the village. They were heading out of the woods.

"Huh?" A sharp-eyed young man rubbed his eyes, stood on tiptoe for a while, then turned and whispered, "It looks like some people have left. Quite a few!"

After a while, the man who had been keeping watch at the crossroads ahead quietly ran back to report: "A group of people have left, at least a hundred or so. They've taken their families and headed south."

Upon hearing this, everyone breathed a sigh of relief.

They had roughly estimated that there were at least five or six hundred refugees wandering around the village, a dense, dark mass that would make one's legs go weak if one looked at them for too long.

Now that about a hundred people have left, although there are still three or four hundred left, the pressure has been relieved by a lot.

They all silently expressed their gratitude to the leader of the refugees who had led them to retreat. Whoever it was, this retreat made them a little safer.

But the remaining three or four hundred people were still in the woods, neither leaving nor dispersing. Everyone knew that only by surviving tonight would anything matter.

Time wears on little by little. The time when people are most tired is nearing the end of the 1-3 AM hour.

The torch flames were blown crooked by the night wind, and the young men who had kept watch all night leaned against the earthen wall and dozed off one after another.

Someone squatted on the ground, their head slowly drooping towards their knees;

Someone was leaning against a big tree, and the stick in their hand had slipped to the ground.

Even the village chief and Yun Huaikang felt as if two weights were hanging on their eyelids, and they couldn't open them no matter how hard they tried.

Gan Sanxi yawned hoarsely, "Looks like everything should be alright now, it's almost dawn—"

In the woods, Wu Daniu stared intently at the village across the way. The person next to him asked in a low voice, "Brother, should we continue?" He yawned as he spoke.

Wu Daniu pursed his lips, glanced at his brothers behind him, and suddenly roared, "Brothers, grab your weapons..."

As soon as he finished speaking, those empty eyes from the daytime turned fierce, and one by one they grabbed axes, shovels, and hammers and charged forward...

A strange noise suddenly came from the woods.

It was the sound of footsteps, dense and numerous, growing closer and more urgent.

The people in Ganjiacun were startled; everyone woke up at the same time.

The torch was raised, and the sickle, hoe, and carrying pole were all gripped tightly in an instant.

Each pair of eyes held a resolute determination...