The next day marked the seventh day after Zhao Yongcai’s death.

At dawn, Qian Chunhua brought the three children to his grave.

Zhao Yongcai was buried on the slopes of Lion Mountain, like all the deceased villagers of Huanghualing.

But unlike others, his grave was not in the Zhao family’s ancestral tomb but isolated on a small hillside.

A lonely grave mound, a wooden gravestone, fallen leaves dancing in the cold wind—it was a desolate scene.

After arranging the offerings, Chunhua and the children burned paper money and kowtowed before the grave.

Qian Chunhua deliberately brought Zhao Qingyun forward and solemnly explained the matter of the baby switch at birth.

Ever since her transmigration, Chunhua no longer considered herself an atheist—she firmly believed everything was preordained.

Even if Zhao Yongcai was now dead, she treated this seriously, giving him an honest account of how Qingyun had been switched.

Before leaving, Chunhua said to the gravestone: “Both of you, don’t worry. I’ll raise the children well.”

She said “both of you” rather than “you,” because she was also addressing the original soul of this body.

After all, she had transmigrated into this body, and no one knew where that original soul had gone.

After speaking, Chunhua suddenly felt—though perhaps it was just her imagination—that the incense at the grave began to burn more brightly, as if Zhao Yongcai’s spirit had been appeased.

It gave her chills.

Chunhua hurried down the mountain with the children.

Back home, after breakfast, Zhao Qingsong and Zhao Xiaoling packed up and headed to school.

Chunhua brought Qingfeng to her mother’s place.

“Chunhua, let me help you,” said her mother, thinking watching over one obedient child wouldn’t be difficult and not wanting her daughter to tire herself out.

But Chunhua quickly declined.

If her mother came along, how could she sneak things from her space?

That would give her away in an instant.

“Mom, don’t worry. I can handle it. And besides, Qingfeng and the others need to come back for lunch. We can’t delay that.”

Her mother quickly agreed, “Right, right. They have to eat on time or they’ll miss the afternoon lessons. I’ll stay and cook—you come back at noon.”

“Okay.”

Chunhua returned home alone.

Though her house was small, after the recent renovations, it had all the essentials.

She swept every corner inside and out, then fetched two buckets of water from the shared well behind the Zhao house and wiped everything clean.

She didn’t have any traditional kang bedding, so she used bamboo mats from her space instead—luckily, she had plenty.

She laid out three horizontally across the entire heated bed.

Then she used the worn-out quilts that the original owner and children had used for years as padding over the mats.

Next, she pulled out two gray bed sheets from her space and sewed them together.

Now the kang was ready. It wasn’t as soft as her old memory foam mattress, but it was a great deal more comfortable than straw mats.

She also took out two thick cotton quilts. One would be for her and her daughter, and the other for the two boys.

She matched the quilts with fitted covers, and then added four gray pillowcases to four pillows from her space.

Sleeping arrangements—settled.

Knock, knock, knock.

Just then, someone knocked at the door.

It was Carpenter Wang, delivering a full cart of furniture she had ordered—tables, chairs, a wooden bathtub, and more.

Watching from a distance, Li Cuihong was seething with jealousy.

That whole cart of furniture must’ve cost at least a tael of silver!

“Dad! Dad! Come look! Chunhua’s got a whole cart of new furniture!” Li Cuihong ran into the main house in a frenzy.

Zhao Daqing, not wanting a repeat of yesterday’s coughing fit, quickly removed his pipe from his mouth as she spoke.

Upon hearing the news, Zhao Daqing grew anxious too. He dropped his pipe and followed Li Cuihong out the door.

To get to the east courtyard now, they had to walk around the wall through the main gate.

When they arrived, Daqing also saw the full ox cart of furniture and felt his heart ache. So much silver—wasted!

Qian Chunhua ignored them. With Carpenter Wang and his son, she carried everything inside.

Wang Erwa was strong and helped move the large items, while Chunhua handled the smaller ones, like chairs.

After everything was brought in, she paid the remaining balance and placed another order: four long tables, matching benches, a 1.5-meter counter, two chairs, and a cabinet.

All were for her future tea stall.

She didn’t need a new bed for the break room—she would move the original bed from her room, now that they all slept on the kang.

It was another big order. Carpenter Wang roughly estimated the cost at 1,200 copper coins. Chunhua paid a 500-coin deposit, and the delighted carpenter left with his son.

Like Ding Zheng, Carpenter Wang planned to use the income to buy more grain for his family.

People like him, who worked outside the village, were more worldly than most of Huanghualing’s residents.

They knew that as long as people were alive, anything was possible.

Not like the Zhao family, who had limited vision and only cared about the moment.

Even Zhao Yongwen had gone home to urge his family to stockpile grain.

Not only did they refuse to listen, they ridiculed him for it.

Carpenter Wang was thrilled.

But Li Cuihong and Zhao Daqing were growing increasingly uncomfortable. Watching Chunhua spend silver so freely, they could no longer sit still.

Li Cuihong called out from outside the gate,
“Chunhua, do you need help?”

She didn’t dare enter the east courtyard, only dared poke her head in, pretending to be all friendly and helpful.

She had learned from her last experience—this time she used sweet words first.

Unfortunately, her opponent wasn’t the original Chunhua, who might’ve hesitated out of politeness.

Qian Chunhua gave her a faint, mocking smile, sending Li Cuihong into a fluster.

She turned to Zhao Daqing for backup.

Zhao Daqing stepped one foot into the east courtyard. Chunhua frowned and glanced down at his foot.

He looked at her awkwardly.

Should he enter or retreat?

“Chunhua, we just came to see if you needed help with anything,” he said.

Chunhua sneered, already guessing their motives, even if she didn’t know the full story.

Clearly, Zhao Daqing still hadn’t recognized the new boundaries.

“Dad, did you forget?” she reminded coldly. “We’ve already severed ties.”

“So no—I don’t need your help.”

“But Chunhua, you can’t say that—” Zhao Daqing began, flustered.

He had assumed that even with the family split, Chunhua would still give him some face.

But she showed no hesitation in bringing up the severance, and it made him feel humiliated—and more than that, afraid.

Afraid that the second branch of the family was now truly out of his control.