Chapter 3 – The Female Military Doctor of the 1950s

After confirming the era she was in, Xu Wanchun didn’t feel the least bit relieved.

According to historical records, after the Liberation, the country had finally moved past the chaos of war, and the common folk could enjoy relative stability. Bandits still existed in some remote places, but within the next few years, they’d be completely eradicated.

But this point in time… was really poor.

There were still 28 years before the reform and opening-up. Just thinking about that made her feel suffocated.

Suddenly, something struck her. Xu Wanchun sharply turned to look at her adoptive mother who was holding her hand. Her lips parted a few times, but she just couldn’t bring herself to call out, “Mom.”

Xu Hehua thought the little girl was just tired from walking and bent down to scoop her up again.

Xu Wanchun skipped over the title and asked directly,
“How many mu of land do we have?”

“Two mu,” Hehua answered casually, then realized something. She gently rubbed her daughter’s now bald head and smiled reassuringly, “Don’t worry, I can afford to raise you.”

“Are we registered as poor peasants?” Xu Wanchun pressed. She couldn’t help but wonder—after all, in a village full of thatched mud homes, Hehua’s three-tile-brick house really stood out.

Hehua replied, “We’re poor peasants. Why? Did you remember something?”

Xu Wanchun’s breath hitched. She reached up to touch her bristly scalp and feigned confusion.
“Not really. It just popped into my head.”

Hehua didn’t take the question too seriously. Seeing the girl still had a bit of spirit in her, she let it go and reassured her again,
“Two mu of land isn’t much, but our soil is good. With decent harvests, and after paying taxes, it’ll still be enough to feed us. I raise chickens, weave some cloth, and grow sorghum behind the house. We’ll make it work. If I have the time, I’ll even raise a pig—enough meat for the whole year.”

That sounded exhausting. Xu Wanchun had originally just wanted to confirm their class status, but now she was overwhelmed with guilt hearing all this.

Her adoptive mother clearly planned to work herself to the bone just to raise her.

She couldn’t help but ask,
“Why did you decide to take me in?”
Clearly, life would’ve been easier alone. There was no blood relation, no obligation.

“Why not? It’s not like it’s rare for folks around here to take in a kid or two.”
Of course, what Xu Hehua didn’t say was that she truly felt like this child had been sent to her by fate. Just days before, she’d been cleaning the old land god’s shrine. She hadn’t said it out loud, but deep down, she had wished for a child.

And then, just like that, one appeared.

No need to marry, no need to go through pregnancy or childbirth—she picked up a child for free, and a girl too, right by the Iron Egg’s grave. What a blessing!

She wasn’t about to advertise her luck, though. Good fortune should be kept close.

Xu Wanchun didn’t know what was going through her new mother’s head and truly believed her simple explanation.

After all, the people of this era were known for their honesty and kindness. Even in her history textbooks, there had been stories like the “Three Thousand Orphans Sent to Inner Mongolia.”

Being adopted wasn’t exactly rare.

Guess she was still thinking like someone from the modern world.

Back home.

The sun was already dipping behind the mountains in the west.

Smoke curled from the chimneys of the neighboring homes.

Xu Hehua didn’t dare delay—she set the child down and immediately got to work preparing dinner.

After losing her parents, Xu Wanchun had learned to cook—but she’d never used an earth stove before.

So when her adoptive mother tried to shoo her off to play in the yard, she didn’t budge. She sat quietly on a small wooden stool, watching her make the fire and prepare dinner.

Dinner was simple. Hehua had reheated leftovers from the morning—cornmeal porridge, two cornbread wowo buns, and a small dish of pickled vegetables.

Xu Wanchun, as the “patient,” got a more nutritious meal. She was served refined white rice porridge and two eggs steamed with sesame oil.

As they sat down to eat, Hehua said between bites,
“Today was too—”

“…it’s already late. Tomorrow I’ll steam a few white flour buns for you. Dr. Cao said you can start eating those.”

This body’s condition was truly terrible. Xu Wanchun had caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror while getting her head shaved earlier.

Skin and bones. Her facial features had become distorted from malnourishment—she looked no better than someone in the late stages of anorexia.

Although she was actually eight years old, she appeared at most five.

She needed a nutritious diet, and it would take years of careful feeding to recover the deficits.

Since it concerned her own body, Xu Wanchun couldn’t refuse. “Thank you. I’ll work hard too.”
What she really wanted to say was, I’ll work hard to make money, but considering her small, weak frame, that sounded a bit too much like empty boasting.

Xu Hehua pushed the untouched bowl of steamed egg closer to her. “Don’t worry about work for now—get your health back first.”

“Okay.” Xu Wanchun didn’t like to hog food. She picked up the spoon, scooped half of the egg custard into her adoptive mother’s bowl, and then began eating in earnest.

That act made Xu Hehua beam with delight. She kept saying what a good girl she was.

Xu Wanchun found it both funny and a little helpless. Clearly I’m the one eating the fancy food here.

Still, that one little bowl of steamed egg seemed to warm things between the newly paired mother and daughter quite a bit.

They were just chatting about whether to sleep together or in separate rooms when a knock sounded at the courtyard gate.

Xu Wanchun instinctively put down her bowl and stood to go answer it.

“You keep eating—I’ll get it.” Xu Hehua gently pressed her daughter back into the stool, then quickly headed out of the kitchen.

Xu Wanchun, obedient, set down her chopsticks and waited for her adoptive mother to return before finishing her meal.

Xu Hehua came back swiftly, within a minute or two. She carried a small stack of clothes, which she carefully placed into a clean bamboo basket before returning to her seat and picking up her chopsticks.

As she ate, she explained, “Sister-in-law Su dropped off some clothes her son wore when he was little.”

“So many?” Secondhand clothes from relatives or neighbors were completely normal in this era, and Xu Wanchun was fine with that. Still, she was curious: “Who’s Sister-in-law Su?”

“She’s got a good life. Only has one boy, so of course they have a lot of clothes,” Hehua replied. “But remember to call her Auntie Su—she’s Dr. Cao’s wife. I’ll take you to thank her tomorrow.”

“Of course,” Xu Wanchun agreed right away. Then she asked, “Is Dr. Cao really that impressive?”

“Impressive?” Hehua’s eyes lit up. “You bet! He might only be in his thirties, but even big shots come to him for treatment!” She then scooted her stool a little closer to her daughter, lowering her voice like she was sharing a secret. “Tuen Grandpa said Dr. Cao’s ancestors used to treat emperors! Otherwise, how could an outsider gain so much respect around here?”

Xu Wanchun whispered back in kind, “So Dr. Cao isn’t from around here?”

“Nope. He moved here from Shandong over ten years ago.”

Now that she knew it was 1950, Xu Wanchun quickly did the mental math—ten-plus years ago would’ve been during the peak of the “Northeast Migration.” That tracked.

With her thoughts in order, she continued chatting, asking more about the village and people around them.

Their dinner ended amidst that gentle exchange of questions and answers.

Afterward, the last traces of sunset disappeared from the sky.

Under the dimming twilight, mother and daughter took a hot bath together.

Xu Wanchun insisted on washing herself.

But as a tiny slip of a girl with no strength to speak of, she stood no chance against her adoptive mother’s good intentions. Xu Hehua simply scooped her up like a rag doll and gave her a thorough scrubbing from head to toe.

Born and raised in the south, Xu Wanchun had never experienced this kind of “battle-style” bathing. The dignified doctor, now eight years old in body, wanted nothing more than to crawl into a hole and disappear.

All she could do was silently chant to herself:
Just get used to it… get used to it…

Still, despite the embarrassment and discomfort, as the warm water trickled over her skin…

After rolling a few times in the warm bed, all her awkward feelings vanished.

Xu Wanchun had expected she’d be too overwhelmed to sleep, with so much on her mind.

But to her surprise—she fell asleep instantly.

When she opened her eyes again, daylight had already filled the room.

She stared blankly at the reed-covered ceiling for a good while before finally accepting reality. She lifted the quilt, got dressed, and stepped out of the room.

After searching through the house and yard and confirming no one was around, she made her way to the kitchen.

There, she found that the porridge had been kept warm in the pot, along with one of the white flour buns her adoptive mother had mentioned last night—and a hard-boiled egg.

Honestly, even by modern standards, that was a decent breakfast.

Xu Wanchun sighed. As she washed up and ate, her mind spun with plans to make money.

This body was too small and weak. Rice and eggs wouldn’t cut it; she needed meat, and milk would be even better.

But whether meat, fish, or milk, they all required money.

She couldn’t push those expenses onto Hehua. The woman owed her nothing, and Xu Wanchun wasn’t shameless enough to act entitled.

She had to find a way to earn money.

Realistically speaking, before 1966, writing could be a high-paying job—but she was an 8-year-old who couldn’t even read, so that was off the table.

In the end, the only fast, practical way to make money with her current body was: gathering and selling medicinal herbs.

But she was a Western-trained resident in cardiothoracic surgery, someone who still needed help diagnosing tricky cases. She hardly knew any herbal medicine at all.

That’s why she had to go learn from next door.

Step one: ask what time it was. A casual excuse to visit.

The morning sun was warm, and not a breeze stirred.

Maybe her mindset had shifted—because Xu Wanchun actually found herself in the mood to enjoy the scenery today.

Though it was only a few meters away, she took her time, gazing up at the blue sky, the fluffy clouds, and the quiet little village.

Dr. Cao’s house was also a courtyard-style home, though not as large as the village elder’s.

When she reached the gate, she saw it was wide open.

Inside the yard stood several large, wide wooden racks.

Each rack was covered with flat bamboo trays filled with medicinal herbs.

They were too far for her to make out the specifics, but her eyes quickly shifted left—right onto Dr. Cao himself.

He was wearing a long tunic again, this time in dark gray rather than navy blue. He sat at a stone table, carefully slicing a rhizome with intense focus.

Just as Xu Wanchun was debating whether to come back later, a graceful figure stepped out from the kitchen.

And in that moment, as the elegant woman walked closer, Xu Wanchun finally understood what people meant by “a scholarly air that seeps into one’s clothes.”

The woman wore her hair in a neat, shoulder-length bob—not a traditional bun.

She had on a navy-blue cheongsam-style coat with a floral pattern and slanted buttons, which reached her knees. Below that was a pleated black skirt that brushed her ankles, and on her feet were simple black cloth shoes with buckled straps.

She looked like she had walked straight out of a 1930s magazine—so elegant that she felt out of place in the rural setting.

Xu Wanchun remembered Hehua saying that this woman’s son was already seventeen or eighteen… but she didn’t look it at all.

Standing there in her current pitiful state, Xu Wanchun—who rarely got self-conscious—actually felt a little embarrassed. “Good morning, Auntie.”

“Oh! You’re Wanchun, right? The little girl Hehua brought home? Come on in!” Su Nan greeted her warmly with a smile and waved her over.

But this was her first time visiting, and etiquette mattered. Building relationships was a slow process, so Xu Wanchun shook her head politely. “Thank you, Auntie. I won’t come in—I just wanted to ask what time it is?”

“Of course.” Su Nan didn’t press her. She raised her wrist to check the time. “It’s 9:15.”

Goal achieved, Xu Wanchun didn’t linger. In her soft child’s voice, she bid farewell: “Thank you, Auntie. I’ll head home now.”

The bean-sprout-like girl toddled away on her skinny little legs surprisingly quickly. Su Nan chuckled and turned to her husband. “Hehua’s really lucky. This girl’s so sweet.”

Kids in the village rarely looked this clean, neat, and polite.

Dr. Cao glanced at his wife. The sternness in his expression softened. “She’s a good one.”

Unaware that the couple had taken a liking to her, Xu Wanchun had no time to think about it anyway.

Because by the time she returned home, a certain old lady had appeared.

The woman stood at the kitchen door, frowning with a face full of misery. “So Hehua really did bring home a kid?”

Xu Wanchun: “And you are…?”
Here we go, she thought. Classic time-travel plot—here comes the troublesome elder.

But instead of responding, the old woman simply plopped down onto the doorstep and began loudly sobbing. “That stubborn girl… already hard enough for a divorced woman to remarry, and now she’s burdened herself with a child?! Who’s gonna want her now? What’s a woman supposed to do if she doesn’t get married, huh?”