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Wen Qinghe paid no attention to the voices of people gossiping about her. Mouths grew on other people; as long as they didn’t cause her actual harm or say anything too excessive, she could turn a blind eye.
“You all, hello! I am Wen Qinghe, the educated youth who just arrived today.”
A tall, delicate-featured girl walked over. She was the only one who hadn’t gossiped about Wen Qinghe earlier.
“Hello, Comrade Wen. I’m Tang Lingling. I came a year and a half ago.”
With her taking the lead, everyone else introduced themselves in turn.
The two girls who had gossiped about her the loudest earlier: one with slightly sallow skin and a few freckles on her face was called Zhu Lin, the other, short and stocky, was called Chen Zhaodi. Another girl, a bit older, was named Wang Xiaomei.
As for the male educated youths, the slightly older one served as the head of the courtyard—they called him Director Zhou Zhengyi. The two who had been making crude remarks earlier were named Zhang Yang and Zhao Liming.
Counting Wen Qinghe and Liu Meili, there were now six female educated youths. With today’s newcomers, the number of male educated youths also reached six.
Fang Ming and Yao Min, along with the thin male educated youth Zhao Lele who had traveled with them, soon returned carrying their allotted rations.
With about a dozen people in the small compound, it suddenly felt lively. Since the newly arrived educated youths hadn’t worked today, they hadn’t earned rations.
The team leader proposed giving each of them an advance of twenty jin of grain, to be deducted from their work points at the end of the month. If their work points were insufficient, they could use money or ration coupons to make up the difference.
By evening, the returning educated youths were exhausted from the day’s work. With more newcomers, aside from it being a bit crowded at night when sleeping, it made little difference. In fact, with more hands to share labor, everyone could occasionally get an extra day of rest.
Before, there had been only seven—four women and three men. The men did heavier labor and, after coming back from the fields, also hauled water and chopped firewood for the compound. The four female educated youths were responsible for the daily meals, taking turns in pairs each day.
Now, with several more, the female educated youths could cook one day and rest two, which was much easier. With three new male educated youths, the burden on the men also lightened.
Today happened to be Zhu Lin and Chen Zhaodi’s turn to cook. With the new arrivals’ grain brought in, all it meant was cooking a bit more cornmeal porridge—nothing difficult.
But when everyone at the dinner table tacitly agreed that tomorrow the new arrivals Liu Meili and Wen Qinghe should cook together, Liu Meili’s expression turned sour.
“I don’t agree. I’m not partnering with her.”
Everyone looked bewildered, not understanding why this seemingly well-mannered girl was making a fuss.
Only the other new male educated youths knew the truth, but with the pretty new girl sitting there, none of them said anything.
Though Tang Lingling didn’t know the details, she guessed that Wen Qinghe, looking so frail, probably couldn’t cook.
So she offered, “Then I’ll pair with Comrade Wen.”
Liu Meili glanced at her, hesitated, then said nothing. As long as she wasn’t paired with that sickly girl, it was fine.
Wang Xiaomei didn’t mind either—she had to cook no matter who she was paired with.
Wen Qinghe hadn’t expected that cooking would be part of her duties. She thought of the auntie at home who could whip up delicious dishes in no time. Surely, cooking wasn’t so difficult?
She was grateful to Tang Lingling for stepping in, though she wondered if Tang Lingling would regret it tomorrow once she realized how weak and feeble she was.
She lifted the bowl of golden corn porridge before her and took a sip.
If Tang Lingling did regret it tomorrow, Wen Qinghe figured she could always pay some villagers to prepare her meals.
“Cough, cough, cough… cough, cough…”
Wen Qinghe clutched her chest, coughing for a long while before she could catch her breath.
That rough texture in her throat nearly choked her to death.
Her misty eyes filled with disbelief as she stared at the golden porridge—so pretty to look at, yet so harsh on the throat and hard to swallow.
Beside her, Tang Lingling watched the lovely eyes redden, tears trembling but refusing to fall. The sight made her think of her younger sister, stirring her compassion.
She handed Wen Qinghe her handkerchief. “Are you alright? The cornmeal porridge is indeed rough on the throat. I wasn’t used to it when I first came either. But once you drink it for a while, it actually doesn’t taste so bad~”
“Thank you. I’m feeling better now…” Wen Qinghe accepted the handkerchief.
The male educated youths couldn’t help feeling pity for the frail new beauty. Yet, in this poor countryside, even a delicate flower without proper care would quickly wither.
At Wen Qinghe’s first cough, Liu Meili had already frowned and moved her own bowl far away.
That night, Wen Qinghe barely touched her dinner. Apart from that first sip—drawn by the appealing color and nearly choked by it—she couldn’t eat at all.
After the meal, she fetched hot water with her thermos and brought it back to her room.
She then carried a small basin, intending to wash up.
At first, the female educated youths had been happy that she didn’t sleep in the crowded dormitory with them—one less person meant more space.
But later, when they saw the small firewood shed neatly tidied with a bed inside, they regretted not claiming it sooner.
Who wouldn’t want a private room, even if small?
Only Tang Lingling paid no mind to such things. Seeing Wen Qinghe living separately, she simply told her that if she lacked anything or needed help, she could always ask.
When she saw her struggling with the basin of hot water, Tang Lingling stepped in and carried it inside for her.
Grateful, Wen Qinghe gave her a handful of fruit candies.
After washing herself, Wen Qinghe changed the water and washed her hair, then changed into clean, dry clothes.
Only then did she feel somewhat refreshed.
The long days on the train, the stale air, and the suffocating tightness in her chest had left her exhausted.
Now, lying on the small bed—it couldn’t compare to the Simmons mattress at home, but it was the most comfortable she’d felt in two days.
Looking at the bright moonlight outside the window, she suddenly recalled that the night before she transmigrated, the moon had looked just like this.
The moon was the same, but the timeline had shifted back decades. Would she ever return…?
The tiny room was lit only by a kerosene lamp. Preparing for sleep, she blew it out.
But as she climbed into bed, she suddenly noticed something unusual—beams of light pouring down, converging on her left index finger.
Puzzled, she raised her hand. In the moonlight, the glow intensified, and she realized a small mole had appeared there.
She reached out with her right hand to touch it—only to be pulled by a sudden force.
In the blink of an eye, she was standing in a vast, white expanse.
The moment she entered, her whole body felt light, and the suffocating pressure on her chest vanished.
Looking around, she saw nothing but an enormous hourglass.
Where was this place?
What had she just done?
Right—the mole!
She raised her hand, touched it again, and suddenly her chest grew heavy as she returned to her narrow little room with its dirt-colored walls.
Back again??
What on earth was happening?
Could that have been the so-called “space” others in novels always had?
Wen Qinghe: …
Other transmigrators got magical spaces full of supplies. And her? Just a white void with a single giant hourglass?!
Unwilling to accept this, she tried again—and sure enough, she reentered the space.
Freed of the weight in her chest, she walked for a long time, yet the hourglass was always in sight. Was she going in circles, or was the space simply too vast?
At last, she stopped and studied the hourglass. Judging from its flow, so much sand—how many days would it take to empty?
And what would happen when it finally ran out…?