Chapter 6:

The Zhou family had left, but Ding Minxiu remained, sitting there with her shoulders hunched and head bowed.

Yu Xiang’an emerged from the room—she had been listening to the entire conversation.

Everyone looked at Yu Xiang’an’s expression, expecting to see distress, but she appeared calm.

Yao Cuifen walked over, pulling her down to sit and tightly gripping her hand. “Xiao An, don’t be sad.”

Yu Xiang’an replied, “I’m not sad.” Seeing their disbelieving expressions was actually quite satisfying.

She turned to Ding Minxiu. “I want to ask you—why did you do this?” This question was on behalf of the original host.

The atmosphere instantly shifted, growing tense.

Everyone wanted to know the answer.

Ding Minxiu kept her hands on her belly, her head lowered, her gaze fixed on her fingers.

They had just reached an agreement—she would soon move to the Zhou household. Once there, she wouldn’t have to endure this anymore. But for now, she was still under the Yu family’s roof, and she had to hold back. Taking a deep breath, she said, “We… fell in love freely.”

Yu Xiang’an remained composed. “Free love? Didn’t you know he was my fiancé?”

Ding Minxiu hesitated before answering in a low voice, “Feelings are beyond control.”

Yao Cuifen scoffed. “What a convenient excuse!”

Ding Minxiu bowed her head in apology. “I know, it’s all my fault. I’ve thought about confessing many times, but…”

Yu Xiang’an nodded seriously. “Yes, it is your fault.”

Ding Minxiu choked, unable to continue her prepared words.

Yu Xiang’an pressed on. “You knew exactly who he was to me, yet you still developed feelings for him. How shameless. Of course, it’s your fault. You’ve been together for over a year, haven’t you? Our family wasn’t particularly close to him before, but after you got involved, he started visiting more often, bringing gifts—many of which were things you liked. Watching us rejoice at his visits, did we seem like fools in your eyes?” She answered her own question. “I suppose so. It took you this long to ‘want to confess’—was that genuine? If you had just been honest from the start…”

Ding Minxiu couldn’t hold back and interrupted, “If we had told you, would you have willingly stepped aside for us?”

She finally looked up, her eyes filled with resentment.

Yu Xiang’an countered, “Then let me ask you—who initiated this ‘mutual affection’?”

Ding Minxiu’s gaze flickered involuntarily. “He said he liked me more.”

Yu Xiang’an nodded, having set the trap. “Ah, so it was him. I see.”

Yu Qingshan looked at Ding Minxiu with disappointment. “You heard what I said earlier. From now on, you have no ties to the Yu family. If you prosper, we won’t benefit. If you struggle, don’t come begging. I’ll make sure everyone knows.”

Ding Minxiu’s face turned as pale as if she’d been soaked in water. Her lips trembled as she glanced pleadingly at Zhao Qiaoniang, who only stared back with reddened eyes, silent.

What else could she say?

After what she had done, she had no right to speak.

Ding Minxiu touched her belly, steeling herself. She knew her biological father was unreliable—only good for bleeding her dry. But it didn’t matter. She had her child, and she had Boyang. They would treat her well.

—

With the matter settled, action followed swiftly. The Zhou family, having made their decision, didn’t want to delay further. The longer they waited, the more obvious Ding Minxiu’s pregnancy would become, and even if outsiders didn’t know the details, they’d guess. They couldn’t afford the shame.

Yu Xiang’an took an exam at the food factory and received her acceptance notice within days, instructing her to report to the finance office with her documents. Yang Xizhi quickly completed her retirement procedures, and a young man named Chen Tieniu took her place as a temporary worker.

Once Yu Xiang’an’s employment was finalized, Ding Minxiu quietly left the Yu household with a small bundle, slipping into the Zhou family as their new daughter-in-law.

She took only what she had brought when she first arrived. Yu Qingshan believed he had treated her fairly, yet she had betrayed them. He refrained from kicking her while she was down—that was mercy enough.

Zhao Qiaoniang fell ill afterward, becoming unusually silent at home. She spoke only in front of Yu Xiangju, otherwise keeping to herself. Yu Xiang’an noticed but said nothing. This was something Zhao Qiaoniang had to come to terms with on her own. There was no way Yu Xiang’an would comfort her—not when the original host had lost her life over this. She couldn’t bring herself to be that forgiving.

With a job secured, Yu Xiang’an no longer had to worry about being sent to the countryside. As for her diploma, she explained her situation to her teachers. She didn’t need to attend classes—just take the final exam with everyone else to graduate.

From the moment she arrived in this world to securing her job, less than half a month had passed. Efficiency at its finest.

—

“Xiao An, Qingchun, it’s almost time. Pack up—the canteen has pork trotter soup today. If we’re late, it’ll be gone.” Yan Yuzhen, one of the two people in the finance office who owned a wristwatch, took on the role of timekeeper since the other watch owner was out.

Yu Xiang’an quickly organized the documents on her desk and locked them in a drawer.

From the neighboring cashier’s office came the sound of packing. The moment the lunch bell rang, everyone grabbed their lunchboxes and hurried to the canteen—some even broke into a run.

The canteen’s daily offerings were mostly the same, but occasionally, there were rare treats in limited quantities. If you were late, you’d miss out.

Today’s pork trotter soup cost five cents per serving—a generous ladleful with a small piece of meat and some soybeans. The aroma alone was irresistible.

Yu Xiang’an swallowed hard.

Though she had a job now, she hadn’t received her first paycheck yet.

Workers like her had their grain ration coupons directly allocated to the canteen, so meals there didn’t require additional tickets—just money.

Meat dishes still needed meat coupons, but few could afford them.

When rare meat dishes appeared without requiring coupons, everyone raced to get their share.

The food factory was in the opposite direction from the Yu household, a half-hour walk each way. With short lunch breaks, Yu Xiang’an ate at the canteen instead of going home. Yan Yuzhen did the same, while Sun Qingchun, who lived nearby, took his lunchbox of pork trotter soup and multigrain porridge home to his waiting wife.

“Xiao An, this afternoon, go to the warehouse and check last month’s shipment records. Some must be missing—I reviewed them today, and they’re incomplete.”

Yan Yuzhen was pleased with the new addition to their accounting team. Though young, Yu Xiang’an was steady, quick to learn, and needed little guidance.

“Got it, Sister Zhen,” Yu Xiang’an replied between bites of her rare meat treat.

“Oh, and don’t forget—tomorrow’s payday. Double-check everything. It’s a shame you joined too late to get paid this time.”

Yu Xiang’an grinned. “Sister Zhen, I’ve had that marked for ages. Even if I can’t get my wages yet, just seeing them will be satisfying.”

Yan Yuzhen laughed heartily. “True. The night before my first paycheck, I tossed and turned in bed, too excited to sleep. But I wasn’t tired at all the next day—full of energy.”

“Sister Zhen, did you go straight to the supply and marketing cooperative after getting paid?” Yu Xiang’an had been holding back for so long. Since arriving here, she’d only eaten meat buns and eggs while sick. The rest of the time, she endured hunger, her meals devoid of oil. Right now, her goal wasn’t even meat—just to eat her fill. But with limited rations at home, she’d have to spend money. And where would that money come from?

She couldn’t bring herself to ask Yu Qingshan, so she endured. But once her paycheck arrived, she’d indulge. She was going shopping!

Her body was thin and underdeveloped. If she didn’t nourish it now, it’d be hard to make up for later. At eighteen, there was still time.

Yan Yuzhen nodded. “I’ll have to. We’re running low on salt, and the soap’s almost gone. After payday, I’ll buy…” Her family wasn’t well-off, with many children. Every month’s wages had to be stretched thin to make ends meet.

Today’s pork trotter soup was a rare treat, leaving her unusually satisfied. After work, she took her lunchbox to the canteen for a multigrain pancake, a bowl of porridge, and a scoop of fried tofu.

Back home, Yu Xiangju cheered, “We have tofu today!”

Yu Qingshan grinned and produced his own lunchbox. “Guess what’s inside?”

Yu Xiangju dashed over and peeked. “Fish!”

Small fish, fried golden and fragrant—a rare delicacy.

Frying them crispy required oil, something the family usually spared.

Yu Qingshan chuckled. “Yep, fish. So, what did you do today? No mischief, I hope?”

“None at all! Mingjie and I played with pebbles at home. Didn’t go anywhere—I was good!”

The last thing he wanted was to be denied treats for misbehaving.

Zhao Qiaoniang brought out a plate of steamed sweet potatoes from the kitchen. Seeing the food they’d brought back, she managed a small smile.

With two workers in the family now, dinner preparations were lighter. Tonight, she’d only steamed sweet potatoes and tossed some wild greens.

The perks of being a full-time worker were undeniable. Temporary workers like her didn’t enjoy such benefits—meals at the canteen required their own tickets and money.

—

That night, Yu Xiang’an woke up hungry again.

After tossing and turning, she gave in and got up to nibble on a sweet potato.

A growing stomach was a bottomless pit. As the saying went, “A half-grown boy eats his father poor.” One reason for Yu Qingshan’s financial struggles was his many children and their appetites. Despite earning over forty yuan a month, he could never save.

Counting the two who had passed, he and Qin Fenglan had seven children, raising six, with five still living.

Yu Xiang’an admired Yu Qingshan. Once a poor country boy, he now supported his large family, ensured they all received an education (at least through middle school), and even helped his rural relatives.

It couldn’t have been easy.

Why had she ended up here? After finishing the sweet potato, she lay back down, unable to sleep, pondering life.

Was it karma? Had she been rewarded with a second life for sacrificing hers to save someone?

By the faint moonlight, she fished out a small mirror from the shelf.

The gaunt girl reflected bore a five or six out of ten resemblance. With more weight, they might look even more alike. Same name, same face… Could this be her past life?

No answers came, but she was adaptable. She’d mostly accepted reality, calling Yu Qingshan “Dad” without hesitation. Only in the quiet of night did she sometimes feel like she’d crossed worlds.

Zhuang Zhou’s dream of a butterfly—or the butterfly’s dream of Zhuang Zhou?

Was this transmigration real? Or was she always the original host, just with memories of a future life?

No conclusion. It was late. Yu Xiang’an cut off her thoughts. No use dwelling—work awaited tomorrow.

Half-asleep, she suddenly jolted upright like a bolt of lightning.

She wasn’t sick, but the phrase “startled awake from a deathly illness” fit perfectly.

If transmigration was real, where was her golden finger?

A personal space? Superpowers? Psychic abilities?

The thought banished sleep. She frantically checked herself for unusual moles or birthmarks.

Nothing. Just an ordinary girl.

Undeterred, she whispered experimental incantations:

“Open sesame!”

“Mirmo, transform!”

“By the power of the law!”

“Balala magic!”

No response. No supernatural phenomena.

Wiping her slightly sweaty forehead, she refused to give up. Even if she didn’t have a personal space, a game system would do.

The moment the thought crossed her mind, her vision shifted.

Before her stood a towering apple tree, heavy with fruit. Nearby were chestnut, grape, and pear trees in various stages of growth. Lush grass carpeted the ground, and in the far-left corner grew a patch of soybeans.

To the right of the trees meandered a small stream where two ducks paddled. Beyond the stream stood a warehouse shaped like a windmill.

Yu Xiang’an gaped, then slowly closed her mouth.

This looked familiar.

Wasn’t this the “XiXi Farm” she used to play for relaxation?