She couldn’t be sure if that bizarre information was real, but her own experiences over the past eighteen years matched perfectly with the background details described in the novel.

Just like the novel said—

She had mindlessly followed behind Han Ting since childhood.

Han Ting was her life goal, her dream, the center of her entire world.

From the moment she could remember, her only important ambition in life was to marry Han Ting.

And from that moment on, she had silently devoted herself to him.

She knew all of Han Ting’s preferences by heart, would scrimp and save to buy him things he liked, and devoted herself to mastering different dishes so she could make delicious meals for him.

Her love for Han Ting was selfless and silent, completely without expectation of anything in return.

Han Ting had never seen her as anything more than a younger sister. That never bothered her.

When Han Ting fell in love for the first time in school—with a bright, innocent girl named Tong Rui—he pursued her with passion and eventually won her heart. Even though Chu Xia witnessed their love from beginning to end, all she ever did was suffer silently. Not once did she think of stepping away.

She would fade into the background when he was happy, and reappear whenever he was down.

But whether present or invisible, she was always there, quietly giving everything to him.

After graduating earlier that year, she actually didn’t need to be sent to the countryside.

But because Tong Rui gave up the opportunity to enlist in the military and instead followed Han Ting to the countryside, Chu Xia, for the sake of Han Ting, ignored her parents’ objections and gave up a job offer in the city—volunteering to come with Han Ting to the Tanxi Production Brigade.

In the past half month at Tanxi, her world still revolved entirely around Han Ting.

Life in the countryside was hard. In her spare time, all she ever thought about was how to let Han Ting eat a little better—get more meat, taste something sweet, suffer a little less.

Like today: she hadn’t even eaten lunch, using her short break to rush to the commune. There, she bought half a pound of pork belly at the supply cooperative, then traded for half a pound of white flour at the grain station.

After work, she borrowed two cabbage leaves and a chunk of carrot from neighbors, rushed back to the youth dormitory’s kitchen, and made a bowl of her best dish—zhajiang noodles.

If she hadn’t suddenly awakened, things would’ve played out just like in the novel—Han Ting would’ve scarfed down the noodles in the kitchen, praised her cooking with a thumbs-up, and she, despite having skipped lunch, would’ve felt joy just from his happiness as she took the bowl from him and went to wash the dishes.

At that thought, Chu Xia found herself more than halfway convinced of the strange information in her mind.

And whether she believed it fully or not, one thing had become clear to her now—no matter what, she couldn’t continue living like the pitiful supporting role in that novel. She had to distance herself from Han Ting.

Maybe it was because some other part of her had awakened, but now when she thought of Han Ting, she no longer felt the blinded, feverish infatuation she once had.

Before, Han Ting had always seemed to shine—bathed in sunlight and radiance.

Now, he just seemed like a regular person—stripped of that glow, just his plain, unvarnished self.

Another rumble of thunder rolled across the sky.

Chu Xia looked up. The sky was now thick with lead-gray clouds—it looked like the weather was about to change.

It was getting late, so she didn’t sit there any longer.

She collected herself, picked up the bowl and chopsticks beside her, and got up to return to the youth dormitory.

The little riverbank wasn’t far from the dorm.

She walked at a steady pace and arrived within three or four minutes.

Back inside the fenced courtyard, she saw Chen Sisi and Li Qiao gathering clothes.

Chen Sisi and Li Qiao, like Chu Xia, were part of the group sent to the Tanxi Production Brigade this year.

There were twelve of them in total—seven men and five women—all living together here.

When they saw Chu Xia enter the yard, Chen Sisi glanced at the bowl and chopsticks in her hand and greeted her with a smile, “Chu Xia, where’d you go? Han Ting was looking for you just now.”

Chu Xia smiled vaguely and replied, “Just went for a walk.”

What had just happened to her was too strange to explain to anyone.

As she spoke, she walked over to the water pump to wash the dishes.

After pumping half a basin of water, she squatted down, ready to rinse the bowl and chopsticks—when she suddenly noticed that her reflection in the water looked blurry, like it was shrouded in fog.

She thought maybe it was just the ripples on the water.

But even after the surface calmed completely, she still couldn’t make out her own face clearly.

She had never thought much about it before, but now she understood.

It wasn’t the water—it was because, as a supporting-role “tool character,” she had never been given a defined appearance.

In other people’s eyes, she probably didn’t look like this exactly—but there was nothing memorable about her.

In the past eighteen years, she’d had no distinct features, no stand-out personality, no presence at all—no matter where she went, she left no impression.

She took a quiet breath in.

Then she placed the bowl and chopsticks into the basin—

Breaking the blurry image of herself reflected on the water’s surface.

On the other side of the courtyard, Chen Sisi and Li Qiao were still gathering clothes.

When they got to the last piece, they saw it had somehow been pushed all the way to the very end of the clothesline.

The ends of the line were tied high.

Even on tiptoe, neither of them could reach it.

As they struggled to grab it, the tallest among the male youths, Lin Xiaohan, walked into the yard carrying a sack on his shoulder.

Seeing him, Chen Sisi quickly called out, “Lin Xiaohan, can you help me get that last piece of clothing?”

Though he was carrying a sack, he could easily reach it with a simple stretch of his arm.

“No time,” he replied flatly.

Without even glancing her way, Lin Xiaohan carried the sack straight into the kitchen.

“…” A flash of awkwardness crossed Chen Sisi’s face.

Standing next to her, Li Qiao tugged her arm and whispered, “Wait, why are you even trying to talk to him? It’s been over half a month—don’t you already know what kind of person he is?”

Among the seven male educated youths at their settlement, Lin Xiaohan was by far the most inconsiderate and stingy.

Back when they first arrived from the commune to the production team, the other boys had all eagerly helped carry luggage for the girls, warm and enthusiastic. But not him—he didn’t lift a finger, not even a glance, only concerned with himself.

Li Qiao had noticed he was good-looking and deliberately approached him to help carry her luggage, hoping to break the ice. Instead, he coldly tossed back, “Don’t you have hands?”

The humiliation left Li Qiao embarrassed and from then on, she never asked him for help again.

In the more than half a month since they arrived at the Tanxi Brigade, Lin Xiaohan hadn’t lifted a finger to help any of the female educated youths—not even when it would’ve cost him nothing. He rejected every request without hesitation.

At the water pump, Chu Xia silently watched the scene unfold while washing dishes.

With the extra knowledge now in her mind from the novel, she found herself looking at those around her with a bit of a god’s-eye view.

From the novel’s perspective, Lin Xiaohan was the most prominent supporting male character.

He appeared throughout the entire story—as the lifelong rival of the male lead Han Ting, serving as the foil that highlighted Han Ting’s strengths.

Unlike Han Ting’s warmth, charm, and gallantry, Lin Xiaohan was his polar opposite—a cold, arrogant, and selfish man. He was petty, harsh, calculative, and completely devoid of empathy. Narrow-minded and profit-driven, he was unpopular and friendless, someone no one liked to be around.

Everything about Lin Xiaohan’s current behavior, along with everything he had done before, fit perfectly with how he was portrayed in the book.

After spending over half a month together, the other educated youths had all come to dislike Lin Xiaohan. They treated him like an oddball and avoided him unless absolutely necessary.

When Lin Xiaohan disappeared into the kitchen, Chu Xia looked away.

Sweeping her gaze across the yard, her eyes landed on Han Ting entering with a sack slung over his shoulder.

At the moment he entered the yard, his eyes swept toward the water pump—and for a fleeting moment, his gaze met Chu Xia’s.

Chu Xia tensed instinctively. She quickly lowered her eyes, pretending she hadn’t seen him. Picking up the clean dishes, she turned and headed into the kitchen.

Han Ting was still trying to piece things together in his mind when Li Qiao called out to him, “Han Ting, can you help us grab that last piece of laundry?”

Snapping back to the moment, Han Ting walked over to the clothesline, raised his arm, and effortlessly took down the garment. “Here.”

Li Qiao accepted it with a smile and muttered under her breath, “Now that’s what a man looks like—not like some people.”

Han Ting clearly knew who she was referring to, but didn’t respond. He clapped the dust off the sack on his shoulder and said with a smile, “The brigade’s divided up our food rations. Starting tomorrow, we’ll be cooking on our own. Go call the others—we’re having a meeting in the kitchen.”

They had been eating at the villagers’ homes up until now and had long been looking forward to cooking independently.

Chen Sisi and Li Qiao brightened at the news and replied in unison, “Alright!”