In early summer, just as dawn was breaking and a slight chill still lingered in the air, the quiet village gradually came to life. Household by household, people filed out, carrying their farming tools.
It was the busy farming season.
Only one house at the end of the village remained tightly shut, showing no signs of activity. It stood out awkwardly amidst the bustling village, appearing lazy and idle in the eyes of the diligent farming folk.
Inside the dim, closed-off room, Xie Yushu sat up, clutching the blanket. Her eyes were unfocused, her expression one of lingering terror. As her gaze took in the unfamiliar, antiquated surroundings, she fell into a daze.
Just a few hours ago, she had been walking on a clean, flat modern street when, out of nowhere, a large truck had seemingly flown from nowhere and easily sent her flying.
After being hit, she lost consciousness immediately. Her body felt light, and her soul and awareness seemed to have been locked in a small, dark room. It was only a few hours later that she was released, and when she woke up, she was already in this place.
Xie Yushu didn’t have time to nurse a headache, because the original owner’s memories came flooding into her brain like a tsunami. She was suddenly forced to absorb a vast amount of the original owner’s life story, with events from the original owner’s past imprinted in her mind like scenes from a revolving lantern.
At that moment, she knew—she was done for.
After being killed by that truck, she had transmigrated into this world and become another Xie Yushu.
Coincidentally, her original name was also Xie Yushu, though it differed by a homophone from the original owner’s name.
The original owner had already died in this room, and Xie Yushu had taken her place.
Before Xie Yushu could even consider the possibility of going back, a sudden dull tightness in her chest interrupted her thoughts.
The original owner had died of melancholy in this very room, leaving Xie Yushu with a feeling as if a heavy stone were lodged in her chest—heavy and stifling, making it hard to breathe.
Xie Yushu had never believed that anyone could die that way, but this death had happened right before her eyes. Now, she had no choice but to believe it.
She threw off the covers and hurried out of bed, struggling to find the door and windows in the dim room. The wooden window was old and already loose, its planks thin and flimsy. She barely had to use any effort to pry it open.
A thick layer of dust coated the window’s surface, and Xie Yushu’s palms were instantly blackened with grime. She let out a disgusted “Ugh,” but the fresh air that rushed in after opening the window immediately eased the tightness in her chest.
With the window open, the view outside was laid bare.
The yard was small. The gate consisted of two crooked, twisted wooden fence doors barely held together. The rammed-earth walls, weathered by years of rain and wind, looked as if they might collapse at any moment. Weeds had grown wild across the yard, reaching up to knee height.
In one corner lay a pile of shattered pottery shards. Next to it was a small shed made of coarse branches, covered with a piece of linen cloth. A closer look revealed a few rusted farming tools and some scattered firewood inside.
It was a picture of utter neglect and dilapidation, as if no one had tended to it in years.
The original owner had only returned to the village a few days ago before passing away. Moreover, she had been full of sorrow after coming back, lacking the energy to do anything, so Xie Yushu could understand why she hadn’t bothered to tidy the yard.
With the light now streaming in, Xie Yushu could finally see the room clearly.
Aside from a creaky bed as worn-out as the window, there was only a cabinet piled high with a thick layer of dust, serving as storage. Cobwebs hung from the beams and corners, giving off a musty, decaying stillness.
She stepped out of the room to check the others. The house was small overall, and after only a few steps, she had a general sense of the layout.
The original owner’s home was simple—almost shabby. There was a kitchen, a main hall, a bedroom, and a modest yard. The main hall held only a table and a couple of chairs. That was it.
Oh, and looking up, there was a large hole in the roof of the main hall. It was fine on sunny days, but if it rained, it would be a disaster.
Xie Yushu gazed at the bare, impoverished house and let out a deep sigh. How could it be this poor?
The original owner had lost all her money at a gambling den, mortgaged her townhouse and all its furniture to pay off debts, and used what little remained to buy a clean set of bedding before slinking back to her late father Zhai Jin’s ancestral property.
At least she had thought to buy new bedding—otherwise, Xie Yushu wouldn’t even have a decent place to sleep now.
At that thought, she felt a sliver of consolation.
A frantic voice in her mind told her:
She wasn’t going back.
Perhaps because of the overwhelming influx of the original owner’s memories, or because she had a strong ability to adapt, Xie Yushu managed to calm herself down in a short time.
But then she thought of something else, and her spirits, which had just lifted, immediately deflated.
The yard needed tidying, the roof needed patching, and the entire house needed a thorough cleaning—inside and out. All that work would drive anyone to despair.
Just thinking about cleaning this broken-down house left Xie Yushu utterly exhausted, as if she had already been through a fierce “cleaning battle.”
The original owner hadn’t eaten well in days, and now Xie Yushu’s stomach was the first to protest, growling loudly.
She was hungry.
Xie Yushu returned to the kitchen she had glanced at earlier and carefully checked what food remained.
There was basically nothing.
Only two hard, coarse-bread buns sat in the pot—likely leftovers from the original owner.
Lifting the wooden lid of the water vat, she found it half-full of water. The rice and flour jars were empty, and the clay pots for oil, salt, and soy sauce were cleaner than her face.
Above the stove hung a few bamboo baskets tied with straw ropes on a low wooden beam. Xie Yushu was already tall, and the original owner was even taller, so she could easily reach up and take down the baskets.
Holding onto a faint hope that there might be food inside, she parted the dried grass within and looked closely.
Damn. Empty too.
It’s fine, it’s fine. Though the start is disastrous, at least I’ve gained a brand-new body—no loss there. Xie Yushu comforted herself privately.
She could clearly tell that, besides being taller, the strength in her body had grown richer and more robust—she was far stronger than she used to be.
Even though she had taken over this body after the original owner’s death, and it hadn’t fully recovered yet—her steps still a little unsteady—that didn’t stop her from forming a new understanding of this physique.
A stronger, more powerful, and taller body. She was full of energy now.
She was quite satisfied with it.
So this was a world where women were revered?
It did feel a bit nice, didn’t it?
Yes, she had transmigrated to an era that never existed in history—a world where women held the highest status. Men stayed at home to care for their wives and raise daughters, while women went out to work and support the family.
That said, in rural households, both men and women had to farm to make a living.
Xie Yushu had a strong capacity for acceptance and quickly adapted to this worldview.
She thought wryly—could it be that some mysterious force had known about her little preference for handsome men and sent her into this world?
But the original owner’s final place of settlement was truly too impoverished; she couldn’t yet enjoy the benefits of this era.
Oh well, it didn’t matter anymore. She couldn’t go back anyway, so she might as well just muddle through here.
Xie Yushu’s previous life—just over ten hours ago—she had been a modern person with no worries about food or clothing. Her parents had passed away early, leaving her enough inheritance to live comfortably for a lifetime. She hadn’t worked a single day since graduating from university, happily lying around at home.
Two aunties took turns coming over to clean and cook, so all she had to do was sleep in until she naturally woke up and wait for their feeding. In the evenings, she’d take a stroll to digest her food, living a simple, unadorned, ordinary life.
The turning point came just over ten hours ago—yesterday.
Yesterday was her twenty-fifth birthday. She had splurged on a custom birthday cake from a locally famous private bakery.
But when the delivery rider brought the cake, she noticed its appearance didn’t match what she had ordered. When she called the bakery, no one answered. Fuming, she stormed out to confront them in person.
The bakery was just two streets away from her neighborhood, so Xie Yushu went there in her slippers.
Just as she stepped onto the street in front of her community gate, a huge, terrifying roar suddenly tore through the air, accompanied by startled screams from passersby—and then a large truck sent her crashing into this world.
The property management would take care of her body, right? Their community staff were pretty considerate; they probably wouldn’t let her lie dead in the street.
Losing her comfortable, carefree life and ending up in this strange, backward world, Xie Yushu’s first thought was about the money in her bank account.
Fortunately, she had a strong sense of precaution and had long since arranged with a lawyer to draft a will.
With shallow ties to family, love, and friendship, she had no other relatives—only a cousin in a neighboring city who worked as a corporate drone. If she died unexpectedly, all her assets would go to that cousin.
One unlucky older cousin falls, and one cousin who no longer has to endure the grind of office work rises.
She had done a good deed, at least.
At that thought, her stomach growled in protest again, pulling her back from her wandering reflections.
Looking back at the two buns in the pot, Xie Yushu deflated.
She didn’t like wheat-based foods, let alone these grayish coarse-bread buns. But right now, she had no room to be picky. Grim-faced, she lit the stove, boiled some water, and prepared to force them down to stave off hunger.
She didn’t know how to use a stove or start a fire, but the original owner did—she was simply operating from the original owner’s muscle memory.
Xie Yushu walked to the storage shed in the yard, picked through the pile, and gathered some dry firewood. She lit a firestarter from the stove, tossed the wood into the firebox, scooped a ladle of water into the big pot, and skillfully used tongs to stoke the fire, making it burn hotter. Then she covered the pot and sat down to wait.
While scooping water, she noticed the half-gourd ladle was chipped. That made Xie Yushu laugh—could this family get any poorer?
As the water heated, Xie Yushu realized she hadn’t brushed her teeth yet. But the original owner’s limited means meant there was nothing in the house for dental hygiene. She could only stand in the yard, swish some water in her mouth, carefully slosh it around from cheek to cheek, and then spit it out to water the weeds.
She’d water them for now, and soon she’d pull them all out. Xie Yushu glared viciously at the overgrown yard.
After days of silence, smoke unexpectedly rose from the Zhai family house, sparking gossip among the passing neighbors.
“How odd. Today there’s finally some sign of life. The doors have been shut tight for days—I didn’t even know what the Zhai family’s granddaughter looked like.”
“I heard her surname is Xie. She used to be a steward at Mapu Ferry. Somehow she lost her job and came back.”
“How do you know all that?”
“Oh, I just heard it from others. Nothing stays secret in our village, does it?”
Two men walking side by side, having fed their poultry, headed toward their fields. Spotting the smoke rising from the Zhai house, they couldn’t help but start chatting.
Life in Qingluo Village went on day after day, year after year, as placid as a still pond that never rippled. Any little stir in any household couldn’t be hidden, let alone the sudden appearance of an unfamiliar young woman in the village a few days ago. How could people not be curious and gossip?
Xie Yushu had no idea what the villagers thought of her. Figuring the buns should be heated by now, she turned back to the stove, lifted the lid, and used rinsed chopsticks to pick up the buns and put them in a clay bowl.
Not wanting to waste the firewood, she added a few more scoops of water to boil some drinking water while the fire was still going.
The coarse-bread buns had a rough texture and scraped her throat going down. Xie Yushu ate one and stopped.
The poor taste was one thing, but mainly—there were only two buns total. If she finished both, she’d have nothing for dinner.
Xie Yushu felt a pang of bitterness. She was already learning to ration her food.
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