Chapter 4: Taking Stock

Zeng Yan had been in a funk for only a short while. It was fair that she had to pay with her money to save her life—after all, the system had left her with a livestream room.

As the dizziness in her head began to subside, Zeng Yan rolled out of bed, slipped on her open-toed Jiefang shoes, and shuffled to the door to bolt it. It was the peak of a hot summer afternoon, and everyone was resting indoors. Seizing the opportunity while the ward was quiet, she decided to try entering her space.

The moment the thought of entering her space formed in her mind, she appeared at the entrance of her livestream room. Zeng Yan excitedly turned to look at the full-length mirror standing by the door. Although she was mentally prepared, the skeletal, dark figure staring back at her still gave her a fright. Her skin was a pallid, grayish black, and her hair was dry and yellow. Her face was as small as a palm, with a pair of huge eyes that took up a third of it. She looked even more destitute than a refugee.

You’re already here, so you might as well stay calm, Zeng Yan told herself.

After she had composed herself and looked closer, it wasn’t so bad. Ignoring the surface signs of poverty and sickness, the body’s features were actually quite refined. Her eyes were long and narrow at the corners, her nose was pointed, her lips were full, and her face was a perfect shape. The seaside wind had taken its toll, but the parts of the girl’s skin that were not exposed were very fair. She was thin but still tall—an estimated 1.6 meters, and she would likely get even taller once she was properly nourished. Zeng Yan was confident she could improve her appearance. Once her body was in its best condition, she would see just how beautiful she could become.

After sizing up her appearance, she looked around the livestream room again. The immersive reality gave her a strong sense of being there, and her anxieties about having transmigrated gradually subsided. This was her private space, her only home. This was not the time to linger. Zeng Yan remembered that the storage room had samples of instant Ejiao from a manufacturer. She brewed a pot of rose tea, ate a few pieces of Ejiao, and had a fresh flower cake. The combination of Ejiao and roses was a double-pronged approach for a much-needed blood-boosting meal.

It’s good to be a food blogger. If I were a beauty blogger, where would I find a fresh flower cake for blood? Hmm… maybe I could eat lipstick to make up for the color?

After eating, Zeng Yan went to the small first-aid kit in the office and took some anti-inflammatory medication. Last month’s local epidemic had depleted the county hospital’s medicine supply. The doctor had only dabbed some purple medicine on her wound. In such hot weather, it was easy for bacteria to grow and cause inflammation. Zeng Yan hadn’t forgotten that this era also had epidemic encephalitis, which most often broke out in the summer. It was better to take more medicine and prevent it before it even started.

After taking her pills, Zeng Yan quickly took stock of the food reserves in her livestream room. The fridge genuinely didn’t have much. The refrigerated section only had two tomatoes and three cucumbers, along with two racks of various flavored sodas. The freezer held five bags of beef balls, eight bags of chicken cutlets, and ten bags of roasted sausages. To Zeng Yan’s relief, before the incident, she had bought one 10-kilogram bag each of rice and white flour. Skinny people love carbs the most.

The storage room didn’t have much, either. Everything was from packages she had received in a single day yesterday: one box of Ejiao, two boxes of cheese rice cakes, two boxes of butter cookies, and three boxes of various nougat flavors.

Fortunately, there was this livestream. The generous suppliers from Yunnan had sent plenty of samples. Rice noodles were the most plentiful: two boxes each of chrysanthemum chicken soup, pig stomach chicken, mushroom-scented dry mixed, and small pot rice noodles, with ten bags per box. There were also three boxes of fresh flower cakes, ten bottles of honey, 30 bags of baojiang tofu, and five kilograms each of beef jerky and cured pork ribs. There was also a fair amount of rose tea and brown sugar, which she desperately needed now.

The reserves were not that extensive, mainly because she had just moved and had not had time to move her belongings. These items would last for a while if she ate them sparingly, but restoring her health was a long-term task, and there still wasn’t enough food.

The things could not only leave the space and not enter. She didn’t have a single cent in her hand and had to plan for future livestreams. Zeng Yan had a half-formed idea that she would begin to put into action after she was discharged from the hospital.

Before she left the space, Zeng Yan picked up the family photo on her desk, her eyes filled with nostalgia. The photo was yellowed and already quite old. She came from a family of chefs; her grandfather was a master of Shandong cuisine, and she had learned her excellent cooking skills from his teachings. It was a pity that she had no affinity for family in both of her lives.

Her father did not inherit the family business and went into archeology. When she was nine, her parents were in a cave-in accident while excavating an ancient tomb and both were killed. Her grandfather endured the pain and raised her. When she was a freshman in college, he passed away from illness. Both of her parents had been only children, and her maternal grandparents were no longer around.

Zeng Yan, who was all alone, was not short on money, but she never gave up. She worked hard to improve her cooking, make videos, and do livestreams. She wanted to live her life to the fullest because she wanted to experience the breadth of life for her loved ones, too.

Now there was one more person: the little girl who shared her name.

“I’ve transmigrated. What a strange experience. Are you surprised? Are you happy?” Zeng Yan curved her lips into a smile.

She had learned what she needed to know about the space. The most important thing now was to get her body healthy. After leaving the livestream room, Zeng Yan slept a long afternoon nap. When she woke up, the sun was setting, and the sky was filled with a rosy glow. She felt refreshed, and her headache had eased considerably.

Li Haixia, the nurse on duty, saw her lying alone in the hospital bed. She not only helped her get dinner but also specifically asked the cafeteria for an extra egg for her. After delivering the food, she didn’t rush off. She sat on an empty bed nearby to chat for a while. Li Haixia was very cheerful and talkative, and Zeng Yan took the opportunity to ask her many questions.

The novel was fictional, but the times were as real as it got. An Kang County, where the Xiangyang Brigade was located, had not yet recovered its stability in various industries due to the chaos of the previous two years. Things had only improved significantly after the Revolutionary Committee was taken over by the army earlier in the year.

Zeng Yan felt a sense of empathy, reminding herself to be cautious in her words and actions. For now, she wouldn’t challenge the black market like other transmigrators did.

“Sister Haixia, is our gold mine still hiring?”

Li Haixia waved her hand. “Don’t even mention it. The machines were destroyed. Part of the mine is shut down. There are still many workers at home with no work. You can forget about them hiring anybody.”

Zeng Yan sighed softly at the news. She had been a little naive. With so many people and so little to go around, every job was a coveted spot. Even if they were hiring, she had no education, no skills, and was as frail as a stick figure that would be knocked over by a gust of wind. She couldn’t compete with anyone else.

As for relying on her culinary skills to get a job in a factory or state-owned restaurant, it was a fantasy. In these difficult times, who didn’t know that being a chef came with its perks? People had been fighting over those jobs, and it would never be her turn.

So, the path of moving to the city to work and leave her family was a dead end.

There was endless fun in competing with others, but she would be better off staying in the countryside honestly. Later that evening, Zeng Yan went into her space, ate something, took a quick shower, and re-registered her account as “Guiqu Laixi”.

The whispers of the times and the memories of the little girl, Liang Yan, who shared her name, intertwined. Zeng Yan wanted to record her ordinary life after transmigrating. An ordinary life is never without spice. The next morning, she had plenty of material when her cheap grandmother, Hu Sifeng, burst into Zeng Yan’s hospital room with her youngest daughter and grandson in tow.