A gentle breeze swept through the quiet night, with silence blanketing the entire village. In the midst of the stillness, a single hut remained lit by the soft glow of a small lantern.
Inside the hut, a middle-aged man and woman sat with their three children. The eldest was a boy, clearly older than the other two. The second was a girl, older than the third child, who rested peacefully in the woman's arms. From time to time, she gently caressed the baby, her touch tender and loving. After one such caress, the infant slowly opened their eyes.
"Huh? Where am I?"
That was the first thought that crossed my mind.
Then it came back to me—I had been reincarnated into another world. This must be my new home.
The woman noticed I had woken up and wrapped me in a warm embrace, planting a gentle kiss on my forehead.
"Aww, you're finally awake, little munchkin. Just look at how adorable you are!" she said sweetly, giving me another affectionate kiss.
Wait, did I just get smothered with kisses?
Hold on... I'm still a baby. How old am I exactly?
"Wah… wooo…"
Judging by the sounds I can make, I'm probably around three to five months old. Definitely not old enough to speak yet.
How am I supposed to live like this?
Hmm… no, it doesn't seem like I'm capable of doing much right now besides eating, sleeping, and… well, relieving myself. My entire routine seems to consist of lying around and staring at the ceiling.
Wait—ceiling?
There isn't a proper ceiling at all. It's made of dry, brown grass. The walls appear to be built from mud, and there's a strong scent of cow dung lingering in the room.
Where exactly am I? What time period is this?
The god who sent me here did mention it was a magical world… so perhaps it's some kind of medieval era.
"Waa… ooo…"
My baby voice escaped again.
"Oh my, you must be hungry! Here, have some goat's milk. Come on, drink it all up," the woman said sweetly, placing a small clay cup near my mouth and gently pouring the milk in bit by bit.
I didn't really feel hungry, but who can refuse food when it's offered with such affection? Even if it's goat milk—not that I can eat anything else at this age.
So I cooperated and slowly drank it.
It actually tasted quite nice. Must be the baby's sense of taste.
"Husband, this child is so adorable—like a blessing from the gods. Have you thought of a name for her yet?" the woman asked the man sitting beside her.
"I haven't really thought about it," he replied, a bit embarrassed. "Maybe we should ask the village chief for suggestions, or better yet, consult Teacher Samira. She's a scholar—surely she knows many beautiful names."
At that moment, their daughter, around three years old, shouted excitedly, "Mom! Dad! How about I name her? Something like… Hu Hu Smally, because she's so tiny!"
"Wooo wooo woo."
No way. Absolutely not! I'd rather have my mouth stuffed with bitter melon or capsicum and eat it all willingly than be called something like that.
Hearing the baby's cry, both the man and woman laughed warmly.
The woman hugged her gently and said with a smile, "Alright, alright—she won't name you. We'll go to Teacher Samira and ask her to choose a lovely and beautiful name just for you."
After that little moment, the family prepared for bed. They put out the lantern and gradually settled down to sleep—everyone except me.
Father lay on one end, with the children in the middle, and Mother rested a short distance away from the second child. I was in my usual spot, occasionally patted gently, but no matter how hard I tried, I simply couldn't fall asleep. Even my mother's lullabies did nothing to help.
To avoid worrying her, I decided to pretend I was asleep. It seemed to work—it put her at ease.
Once everyone had dozed off, my eyes quietly opened again. I stared up at the straw ceiling, silently counting imaginary sheep in hopes of finally drifting off.
– Two Hours Later –
I still couldn't sleep. Counting sheep was proving useless. Maybe the sheep themselves didn't want me to fall asleep.
"Should I change it?" I wondered seriously.
Perhaps I should try counting cats… no, they're too restless. Hmm… maybe dogs? Or better yet—let's start with elephants.
One elephant, two elephants, three elephants, four elephants, five—
– Five Hours Later –
3,780 elephants… 3,781 elephants… 3,782 elephants…
– One Hour Later –
5,289 elephants… 5,290 elephants…
Suddenly, a gentle, loving voice interrupted my internal counting.
"Ah, you're awake."
My eyes slowly shifted toward the voice—it was the woman again. Morning had arrived. Clearly, my grand strategy of counting animals had completely failed. I hadn't gotten a wink of sleep.
My life is not daijoubu. (Translation: My life is not okay.)
"Moohah, what are you thinking about, my little munchkin? And when did you wake up? You didn't even cry—what a good girl you are!"
She affectionately pressed another kiss to my cheek.
I looked at her again. She seemed a bit tired—her skin slightly tanned, and even her black hair now looked faintly brown, perhaps from the sunlight or fatigue.
Her clothing was a Surti saree, traditional and simple—commonly worn in both medieval times and still in use in modern rural areas.
I glanced around the house, then back at her, and decided to close my eyes again—pretending to be asleep.
The house was around 200–250 square meters. It was much larger than the hut I'd first imagined.
"Oh, so you're sleeping again, huh? You gave me such a hard time during the night, and now you're sleeping so peacefully," she said in a half-scolding tone, though a smile never left her face. She kissed me on the cheek once more.
"Alright, go back to sleep. I'll prepare breakfast and send your father to the neighbor's for more goat milk, okay?"
With that, she gently laid me down, woke the rest of the family, and began her daily chores. She sent the father to fetch the milk.
(And no—not that kind of milk. He'll be back soon. Don't get the wrong idea!)