Chapter 3: Still Not Enough Money!

At dawn, the bright sunlight slipped through the torn paper window and fell across Fang Yu’s face. She opened her eyes in a daze, and it took her two seconds to remember that she had transmigrated.

It was still another cloudless, sunny day—meaning the days ahead would only get harder.

Thinking of today’s tasks, she decisively got up.

And immediately ran into a problem: she didn’t know how to do ancient hairstyles.

Since she had somewhere important to go today, she simply tied her hair into a rough, messy braid and let it hang down her back.

Walking around the house, she noticed her father still hadn’t gotten up.

When she went to check, she realized he seemed unwell. She quickly invited the village barefoot doctor to take a look. The doctor left behind two prescriptions and collected twenty copper coins before leaving.

Her original plan for the day was completely ruined. Fang Yu first went to the kitchen to boil the medicine, fed it to her father, then cooked porridge and made sure he ate before she finally had a chance to catch her breath.

She was just about to go return the silver she owed to Auntie Xu when she heard someone calling at the door.

Going out, she found it was none other than Auntie Xu herself.

Willow Tree Village was a small, mixed village with around thirty households. Most bore the surname Chen, while a handful of families had other surnames. Naturally, the village was divided inside and out—the Chen clan, led by the village head’s family, tended to ostracize outsiders whenever there was conflict of interest.

As for the outsiders, they had their own way of coping, often banding together more closely. Among them were the Xu family and the Fang family.

Auntie Xu’s younger son worked as a shop assistant in the county, earning a monthly wage of five hundred copper coins. Her elder son stayed at home to support his parents. With five mu of farmland and children and grandchildren at their side, the Xu household lived quite comfortably compared to others in the village.

Before the Fang family fell into decline, they too had been considered among the more knowledgeable families. Because of that, the two households were on relatively good terms. In fact, after Fang Yu’s mother passed away, the Xu family had helped them quite a lot over the years—something Fang Yu kept in mind with gratitude.

Now that Auntie Xu had come over looking hesitant, Fang Yu assumed it must be about the one or two taels of silver she owed.

Every household in the village was struggling, and the tax deadline in ten days was no joke. With the Xu family having more mouths to feed, Fang Yu could understand.

Just as she was about to speak, Auntie Xu grabbed her hand and whispered, “Yu’er, tell me the truth—did you accept what Chen Ping brought over? I heard something…”

Glancing around cautiously, Auntie Xu lowered her voice even more:
“I heard that Chen Ping’s father has been getting very close with Ma Fu from the county yamen. You know—ever since my boy started working in the county, the village head has always felt my family overshadowed his, and he’s been scheming to push Chen Ping into a position in town. Normally that’d be nothing, but my boy came back yesterday and quietly told me something. I thought about it and decided I should warn you—you must be careful!”

She explained that her son had accidentally seen the village head dining with Ma Fu at the Listening Wind Tavern. Curious, he had asked their shopkeeper about it. That was when he learned that Ma Fu had recently lost his wife and was urgently looking to remarry.

But Ma Fu was a gambler, drunkard, and frequenter of brothels, notorious for beating his wives. Thanks to his brother-in-law serving as an aide beside the county magistrate, he had managed to secure a minor yamen post. In three years, he had already married four wives.

At first he could still marry daughters of small households in town, but once his reputation spread, no one was willing to give their daughters to him anymore. So he turned his sights on rural girls.

It was said his most recent wife was a neglected girl sold off by her parents for just two taels of silver. Within half a year, she was dead.

And Ma Fu was a lecher—he only liked pretty girls, plain ones need not apply.

Auntie Xu’s younger son had just heard that a yamen runner had resigned recently, and guessed the village head was working behind the scenes to secure that position for his own son. Putting that together with Chen Ping’s frequent visits to the Fang household, the Xu family had a serious discussion. They didn’t want to watch a young girl fall into a fire pit, so after much thought, they decided to warn her in advance.

Fang Yu was truly touched. Rumors like this were the hardest to talk about—one wrong word, and you could end up offending both sides. For Auntie Xu to take the risk and come warn her anyway showed she was genuinely kind.

Thinking about her own plans, Fang Yu suddenly realized—maybe bringing along a few trustworthy neighbors wasn’t such a bad idea.

The Xu family was simple in makeup: Auntie Xu and Uncle Xu had two sons and one daughter. The elder son, Xu Li, was married to Madam Liu, and they had a boy called Little Stone. The younger son worked in the county but hadn’t yet married.

The couple were only slightly older than Fang Yu’s late mother, but back then their two families were close, so Fang Yu had always addressed them as elders. After so many years, everyone was used to it.

Fang Yu decided she would quietly investigate the situation over the next couple of days before figuring out how to explain things to the Xu family.

Taking the silver she had prepared, she placed it in Auntie Xu’s hand.
“Auntie, this is the money I borrowed from your family. We’ve managed to scrape by for now, so I’ll return it first.”

Before Auntie Xu could refuse, Fang Yu went back inside, fetched a small pouch with a few copper coins inside—interest, so to speak. Over the years, her family had troubled the Xu family enough, so even a few coins felt like too little.

Naturally, Auntie Xu refused to take it. The two went back and forth, pushing the pouch at each other. In the end, Fang Yu was quick—on the way back from walking Auntie Xu home, she stuffed the pouch into her sleeve and ran back before the older woman could stop her.

Sigh!

The money was still not enough.

Turning around, Fang Yu’s expression darkened. She had suspected all along—the village head’s son was already married with children, so his so-called attentiveness couldn’t be for the sake of marrying her.

Her father was weak and useless; only her marriage could be used as leverage. At first, she thought they wanted her as a concubine. Now it seemed their scheme was much bigger.

But thinking of what the original body had suffered before her transmigration, her eyes filled with anger again. She had thought she could just take her father and leave all this mess behind, but now it seemed those people were not ready to give up.

Fine then—if she didn’t deal with that father-and-son pair properly, she’d be left with a knot in her heart. And carrying inner demons was no good for cultivation. Absolutely not.

Still… there was no rush. Better to let them squirm for a few more days. She didn’t want to stir up the authorities and risk delaying her departure.

Casting her gaze at the withered yellow mountains in the distance, she turned back into the house, grabbed a sturdy knife, and decisively headed toward the hills.

Not everyone in the village was as well-off as the Xu family. Many villagers were toiling under the scorching sun, hauling water to try and save their rice paddies.

The weight of survival pressed on everyone’s shoulders. No one was in the mood for chatting or laughter. Now and then, Fang Yu saw dark-skinned children along the roadside, clutching baskets as they tried to dig up any tiny patches of green plants they could find.

Everyone was busy searching desperately for food, so one more person heading to the mountains wasn’t unusual.

No greetings were exchanged; each hurried along their own path, crossing one another in the fields.

Without pause, Fang Yu reached the foot of the mountain—only to find the situation worse than she expected.

Plants everywhere had been dug up, leaving the soil overturned. She didn’t even need to look closely to know that anything edible had long since been taken.

She wasn’t sure if she’d find anything left in the hills.

But something in her gut told her she had to go.

After years of cultivation, she trusted these mysterious instincts completely. Without hesitation, she pressed onward up the mountain.

The forest wasn’t much better. Near the base, even the leaves had been stripped away, revealing rotting soil beneath.

Only the large trees were left standing—too thick to cut down. The smaller branches had already been stripped bare.

A premonition told her that her real opportunity wasn’t here.

Tightening her grip on the knife, she ignored the distant figure trailing behind her and continued toward the summit.

Once she entered a new stretch of forest, a strange hunger for living greenery welled up inside her. It was almost instinctive, as though some inner voice whispered: Go to the top. It’s better up there.

Why the summit and not the mid-slopes?

Because only at the top did the vegetation still show traces of green, untouched by desperate hands.

Reality, however, hit hard. Fang Yu thought she could dash all the way to the summit in one breath, but halfway up she was already panting, utterly winded.

It had been years since she had felt this weak. Did transmigrating here mean she had inherited this body’s fragility too?

Gritting her teeth, she leaned on a branch, gasping heavily—just like a fish dying on dry land.

Still, she silently vowed to find a quiet, fertile place where she could truly cultivate again.