After Transmigration, Her Whole Family Are Villains

Tomorrow, the Jiang Family would be ready to set out on their journey.

Jiang Mianmian had named all her beloved horses, though she wasn\'t good at naming. She used numbers instead.

Arabic numerals.

Serial numbers.

Starting from 001.

What if a horse suddenly got crushed by some kind of landslide and became a fossil?

It probably wouldn\'t happen; there wasn\'t enough tree resin or time for that.

But just in case.

If it were possible, and it was dug up later, would future archaeologists be puzzled to see a horse with "007" written on it? Would they think it was an alien horse? Did horses need to shave too? An ancient slaughterhouse?

In any case, anything is possible in history.

Jiang Mianmian reluctantly bid farewell to the little boy, Kasar.

Childhood friendships are sincere and pure, like a satisfying steamed bun.

Kasar didn\'t know who his father was.

His mother had died.

Now he lived with his aunt and uncle.

His aunt and uncle were horse breeders who had adopted him.

He was well-behaved, having grown up with horses and never been anywhere else.

He was also very intelligent.

Genetically speaking, mixed-race children not only have advantages in appearance but are often quite smart too.

Kasar was just like that. Although no one had taught him, he seemed naturally clever, knowing how to use his advantages.

Not only had he gained the care of his aunt and uncle,

But he had also won the friendship of the young mistress.

Jiang Mianmian didn\'t like ancient texts, but she liked having others read them.

Before she left, she gave Kasar a book.

"First learn to read, and when you finish this book, go to town and ask the teacher for more. There\'s a Maple Leaf Library in town where you can borrow books. This is a library card I got for you. With this card, you can go in for free."

"Once you learn to read and write, you can write me letters. I\'ll write to you from the Capital City too, but you need to study so you can understand what I write."

For someone who had received nine years of compulsory education, it was unbearable to see someone practicing writing with a stick in the grass, looking up with moist eyes, eager to learn.

The desire to improve oneself is always worthy of respect.

This time, Kasar truly cried.

It wasn\'t because of the wind.

It wasn\'t because he felt wronged.

His nose just felt sour.

Tears kept flowing from his eyes.

Unstoppable.

He felt very reluctant to part.

At the horse farm, his uncle would call him "little mongrel."

Others called him that too.

He knew they meant no harm.

It was just a habit.

When they ate meat and sang songs, they would share with him too, never letting him go hungry.

They just treated him like a stray dog they had picked up, adopted, fed, and let live.

But Jiang Mianmian was different.

When she first met him, she asked for his name.

He said Kasar.

She said her name was Jiang Mianmian.

She actually exchanged names with him, no one had ever been so considerate before.

He thought she would be surprised, because no one else had a name like his.

They all had surnames and given names.

Kasar wasn\'t really a name, just a blessing word. When his mother gave birth to him, she kept muttering blessings.

His mother hadn\'t given him a name, but because she always called "Kasar, Kasar," he thought she was calling him. Every time he heard his mother\'s blessings, he would smile and respond, thinking she was calling him.

Now Jiang Mianmian called him Kaka.

She thought his surname was Ka.

How could anyone have Ka as a surname?

She made him a library card. She said "library card" shared a character with his name.

The library card wasn\'t actually a card, but a piece of leather with "Kasar" printed on it.

He had always said his name was Kasar.

But learning these three characters was something Jiang Mianmian taught him.

Some people are like sparks.

Their arrival can ignite you, changing your primitive life forever.

The next day.

Little Kasar rode a horse, watching his first friend in life leave.

He didn\'t even have the chance to get close.

But it didn\'t matter.

The horse she rode was the one Kasar had taken the best care of.

Number 023.

Every horse had a number, and he remembered them all.

During this time, many horses seemed to be pregnant.

His uncle said it was because Yuezi Town\'s name change was auspicious.

Even the horses wanted to have their postpartum confinement.

Goodbye.

The morning light bade farewell.

A hundred horses galloped.

Magnificent and grand...