Chapter 3: Space Usage Guide

From what she knew, the Jiang family was extremely poor—so poor they couldn’t even afford rice.

Recalling the bowl of steamed egg she had eaten that evening, it was only because the original owner had been harmed and the Jiang family had gone to cause a commotion that they got the eggs.

And she had eaten two of them.

Now only eight remained.

Once she finished them, she would have to eat the gritty, inedible brown rice porridge with the Jiang family.

Jiang Fubao felt completely stunned.

She was only three years old—couldn’t earn money, couldn’t travel far, had no way to protect herself, and certainly no “cheat code” or golden ability.

Was she really supposed to live this miserable life until she grew up?

Oh my god.

Jiang Fubao wished she could be reborn immediately.

“Heaven, you can’t do this to me. I’ve suffered enough—at least give me some kind of golden ability. I’ll even pray to you like a faithful believer.”

Jiang Fubao clasped her hands together and knelt quietly on the bed, praying.

Suddenly, a white light enveloped her eyes.

The next second,

Jiang Fubao returned to her rental apartment.

She was stunned.

What was happening?

Had she traveled back again?

No!

Outside the window, everything was shrouded in fog, and she couldn’t see anything. It was as if a natural barrier had isolated her apartment.

It was like being in a parallel world.

Yet the furnishings inside were exactly the same as they had been before she died.

Could this be a “space”?

Jiang Fubao boldly guessed.

As if wanting to test it, she spoke to the air: “Enter space—”

In just one second,

She was back on the wooden bed.

Her two older brothers beside her, one talking in his sleep, the other scratching his butt.

Jiang Fubao’s pupils constricted sharply.

Good grief.

There really was a space!!

[Heaven, you’re amazing! Hahaha]

Jiang Fubao laughed until her mouth almost twisted.

She returned to the space.

The phone by her pillow was already fully charged.

The time showed 1:00 AM.

The rental had electricity!

But no internet.

This apartment had cost her 800 yuan to rent, a typical old, run-down small place.

One bedroom, one living room, one bathroom.

Small but functional.

It had all the basic appliances.

After moving in, Jiang Fubao had added many things. She opened the fridge, packed full of cola, juice, milk, and fresh vegetables and fruits. The drawer had over a hundred eggs, plus thirty quail eggs from a promotion.

The freezer was stuffed with meat and ready-to-eat meals.

Jiang Fubao loved stockpiling goods.

This habit now worked to her advantage.

Not just the fridge.

The kitchen cabinets held two 50kg bags of rice and flour.

Jiang Fubao liked cooking for herself in her free time.

There were also 15kg each of millet, black rice, mung beans, and soybeans.

And of course, all kinds of seasonings.

She had bought plenty during the recent “Double Eleven” sales.

Under the bathroom sink were sanitary pads and toilet paper—enough for two or three years.

Although she now had the original owner’s memories,

In ancient times, there were no mirrors.

Jiang Fubao didn’t know what she looked like yet.

She brought a chair over and climbed up.

A little girl of about three appeared in the mirror—round cheeks, big eyes, small mouth.

Her hair was black and silky.

Unlike the Jiang family, who were mostly thin with slightly hollow cheeks,

The original owner had clearly never gone hungry.

Truly a cherished child.

As an orphan, she had never experienced being loved.

Now, Jiang Fubao somewhat understood why Heaven had sent her here.

After staring blankly for a moment, she returned the chair to the living room.

Her attention was then drawn to something steaming on the table.

Wasn’t this the takeout she had ordered before she died?

She hadn’t eaten it yet, but it was still warm.

She had already slept a while.

Could the space keep food fresh?

While puzzled, she noticed a note beside the takeout.

Picking it up,

It was a Space Usage Guide.

“All items in this space remain as they were at the moment of crossing over—they do not rot or expire and have automatic restocking. However, restocking happens only once per day, at 6 AM. Time in the outside world does not pass while inside this space. Living things can be stored here, but items placed later cannot be restocked.”

It was very detailed.

After reading, she had just put the note down.

It spontaneously combusted.

In less than three seconds, even the ashes disappeared.

As if it had completed its mission and retired gracefully.

Jiang Fubao didn’t think much of it and lay down on her small bed.

Beneath her was a second-hand mattress she had bought online, soft and comfortable, unlike the hard wooden bed the original owner had slept on.

Only when comfortable did she reluctantly leave the apartment.

Her two brothers on the wooden bed were still asleep; Jiang Fubao quietly climbed down.

She left the house.

And headed straight to the Jiang family kitchen.

The stove and cabinets were too high; she couldn’t see anything without standing on a chair.

She dragged a chair from the yard.

Standing on it, she opened the rice container.

The brown rice inside was nearly gone.

Thinking of the grains piled up in the space, she added some millet that looked similar. They were quite different—one looked like beans, the other pure sticky millet—but she didn’t care. She didn’t want to eat brown rice anymore.

For the first time mixing grains, she didn’t add too much—just seven or eight kilograms.

After all, the grandmother kept a mental count of the household food.

She stirred it evenly with a spatula.

Then she went to the cabinet, opened it, and saw that except for two jars and a small bowl with eight eggs, it was empty.

The first jar had a shallow layer of lard.

The second jar contained coarse salt, also shallow. Don’t ask how Jiang Fubao knew.

She tasted a bit—it was unbearably salty.

This salt wasn’t finely ground like modern salt.

Like the brown rice, she only used a little.

She even sprinkled the large salt grains back on top before closing the jar, trying to remain unnoticed.

As for the lard, she couldn’t add to it—the space only had sesame oil and soybean oil, a big difference.

Closing the cabinet, she jumped down.

The kitchen was otherwise empty.

Except for a bamboo basket in the corner holding twenty eggs to sell in town, there was nothing.

Poverty to the extreme.

Even if she wanted to cheat, she couldn’t.

Jiang Fubao shook her head, dragged the chair out of the kitchen, and left.

Under the bright moonlight, she began exploring the Jiang family home.

Although made of mud mixed with wooden planks, the Jiang house was large.

It had front and back yards, fenced in.

The house was divided into three buildings:

The slightly larger main house and two smaller side houses.

The left of the main house was where Grandpa and Grandma lived, the right housed the eldest uncle and his family.

The side houses were for the second uncle and her own parents.

The kitchen was on the front yard’s right side. Since the Jiang home was at the village edge, at the foot of the mountain, bamboo pipes were used to channel spring water from the mountain. When not in use, a wooden plug sealed the water; when needed, it could be removed.

Very convenient.