Transmigrating to the Three Kingdoms: The Qiao Sisters of Jiangdong

[Updates usually come out after midnight because I have to work during the day]

Qiao Mu must be the unluckiest person ever to transmigrate into the Three Kingdoms era. One day, she woke up as a mute slave kept by a powerful clan, unable to speak, lowly and powerless.

She had all the cunning and foresight of someone from another time, yet could only stay quietly in the vast manor and wait to die.

One day, she was bullied again by a young son of the clan's lesser branch and shoved into an icy pond in the dead of winter. She crawled out like a water ghost and lay on the bank, wringing the water from her clothes. In her heart, she already hated this feudal age that devoured people.

As the cold seeped into her and her mind grew hazy, Qiao Mu heard a voice from the bridge. A young master stood there, with exquisitely handsome features and a calm, dignified air, clad in a snow-white brocade cloak and wearing a blue-and-white jade pendant at his waist. His voice was cool as he asked,

"What is your name?"

Qiao Mu didn't want to die nameless and unjust in the Eastern Han Three Kingdoms, never to return home. She struggled to her feet, bowed low, then raised a hand and pointed to where the young master stood.

The bridge. She was Qiao Mu.

The young master, with a face as flawless as jade and brows like ink strokes, came down from the bridge, took off his cloak, and handed it to Qiao Mu. Gold and silver threads along its hem were stained with mud, but the soft, fine brocade brought her a searing warmth.

That was the first time Qiao Mu met Zhou Yu.

The young master had not yet undergone his coming-of-age ceremony, but already carried himself like a noble and distinguished adult. Standing above her, he said, "From now on, I'll call you Xiao Qiao."

After becoming Zhou Yu's maid, Qiao Mu could finally catch her breath from the endless daily labor. The young master was no ordinary man. Brilliant and perceptive, he would one day make his mark amid the chaos of war.

Qiao Mu quietly stayed at Zhou Yu's side. Qiao Mu of Jiangdong, lush and green, born at the right time, destined to die in the right age.

Leaves fell in the bamboo grove as steam curled from the clear tea. Qiao Mu lifted a jade-green cup above her head and offered it to their guest that day.

The young general was full of youthful confidence, with sword-straight brows and bright eyes. Yet those affectionate eyes were like the warm spring sun, gentle and sincere. Qiao Mu had lost count of how many times Sun Ce had come over that week. His gaze always lingered on the mute girl for a long time.

"Do you have an older sister?" Sun Ce took the cup, the corners of his lips lifting as he asked with a dashing air.

Qiao Mu shook her head.

Sitting across the low table from Zhou Yu, Sun Ce let a faint edge of sharpness show. He leaned closer, delighted, and said, "Then you should be called Da Qiao. From now on, I'll call you Da Qiao."

Zhou Yu watched with gentle composure. A trace of sorrow passed through his eyes, but he concealed his loneliness as if nothing had happened.

Qiao Mu looked up in confusion. For the first time, her numb expression cracked. The books had never told her that Da Qiao and Xiao Qiao were the same person here. And why did both of them have to be her?

[Reader's Guide]

1. Da Qiao and Xiao Qiao are the same person.

2. The historical figures differ greatly from their historical portrayals. This story will not stand up to rigorous historical scrutiny.

3. One-on-one romance. The male lead is undecided. Whoever the heroine likes will be the male lead.

4. More details will be added if I think of any.

The blurb was written on November 27, 2024.

Theme: The mighty Yangtze flows ever eastward