After sending off Dr. Hua, who left with a head full of questions, and the chubby boy who kept looking back as he walked away, Shen Zhihuan finally had a moment to herself.

She massaged Li Qiuhua’s wrist with medicinal wine, then carried a basin of hot water prepared by Xiao Weidong into the small room next to the kitchen.

Removing the layers of patched-up clothing she had been wearing, Shen Zhihuan found herself stunned yet again.

She may have the body of a teenage girl, but this flatness… even an actual airport would feel ashamed.

Without shampoo or body wash, she could only rinse herself as best as she could. She had just finished drying her hair when a knocking sound came from the courtyard gate.

Xiao Weidong quickly ran to open the door.

“Zhihuan…” Xu Jiaojiao, her hair in a thick braid, hesitated as she stepped in, biting her lip nervously.

Li Qiuhua, who had been sorting wild vegetables by the kitchen door, glanced over at the visitor and let out a cold huff. Without saying a word, she put down her basket, strapped on her back basket, and dragged Weidong out with her.

Eighteen-year-old Xu Jiaojiao wasn’t exactly beautiful, but her fair skin stood out against the sun-darkened villagers. Among them, she looked like a crane among chickens.

Not to mention, she had an uncle working as a security supervisor at a factory and an aunt who sold pork at the supply and marketing cooperative.

“Do you need something?” Shen Zhihuan casually wiped her half-dried hair, thinking only one thing: so fake.

“Zhihuan, are you feeling better?” Xu Jiaojiao asked, glancing at the courtyard gate that had just slammed shut. She moved closer with a pitiful expression.

“Much better. Anything else?”

Shen Zhihuan ran her fingers through her dry, knotted hair, her mood worsening by the second. She was already annoyed by her straw-like hair and had no interest in indulging Xu Jiaojiao’s melodrama.

“Zhihuan, are you mad at me?” Xu Jiaojiao’s eyes filled with tears, and her voice trembled with emotion.

Shen Zhihuan raised her gaze to Xu Jiaojiao’s face, chuckling lightly but saying nothing. Is this girl here to practice her acting skills?

Perhaps sensing the oddity in Shen Zhihuan’s gaze, Xu Jiaojiao awkwardly lowered her head and wiped away nonexistent tears.

“Zhihuan, you have to believe me. I really didn’t know my father would send someone to the Su family…”

Shen Zhihuan gave up untangling her hopeless hair, leaned back, and watched Xu Jiaojiao’s performance quietly.

“Zhihuan, please don’t be like this. I feel so bad about it. I’ll go back and tell my father to call off the engagement with the Su family. I can’t betray my friend like this…”

“Sure!” Shen Zhihuan nodded earnestly.

Xu Jiaojiao froze, utterly dumbfounded. This was not what she expected. For a moment, she wondered if she had misheard.

“Do you want me to come with you to talk to Uncle Xu?” Shen Zhihuan asked, raising an eyebrow slightly.

“…”

Xu Jiaojiao’s expression faltered, and she instinctively avoided Shen Zhihuan’s gaze.

“It’s getting late, and I have to go to work. Take care, Zhihuan. I’ll come visit you again.” Xu Jiaojiao mumbled hastily and scurried out of the courtyard.

Watching Xu Jiaojiao flee in panic, Shen Zhihuan curled her lips into a mocking smile. That’s it? You call this pretending to be righteous and innocent?

Based on the memories from the body’s original owner, Shen Zhihuan rummaged through a cabinet and found a pair of scissors. In a few quick snips, she turned her messy, straw-like hair into a neat bob.

Freed from the burden of her tangled hair, Shen Zhihuan felt as though her entire body had lightened.

Leaning against the grapevine trellis by the kitchen door, she began pondering ways to earn her first pot of gold.

In this era, food was distributed based on headcount and work points, and everything else required ration tickets: grain tickets for food, meat tickets for pork, and fabric tickets for clothes.

Smuggling goods? Risky. Getting caught could mean serious consequences.

But as the saying goes, fortune favors the bold.

In less than a minute, she had already envisioned the furniture she’d furnish her future grand home with.

Going into the mountains?

It was summer, and the rain had made the mountain paths overgrown with wild grass. With her frail body—skin and bones barely held together—she wouldn’t last long enough to find any valuable herbs.

The top priority was to restore her health. Without a strong body, all other plans were pointless.

Having made up her mind, Shen Zhihuan returned indoors. Her weak body needed proper care.

By the time she opened her eyes again, the sky had gone dark. Guided by the faint light from the central room, she got up and made her way out.

On the dining table sat a plate of salted vegetables, a bowl of plain rice porridge in her spot, and wild vegetable soup at the places for Weidong and Li Qiuhua.

Near the courtyard wall, Weidong was skillfully herding chickens into their coop with a broom. Spotting Shen Zhihuan, he dropped the broom and shouted toward the kitchen, “Mom! Third Sister’s awake! We can eat now.”

Without waiting for a reply, he hurried to the well to wash his hands.

“You little monkey! Always thinking about food,” Li Qiuhua teased as she brought out freshly steamed cornbread mixed with wild vegetables.

Since Dr. Hua and his grandson had visited earlier, Li Qiuhua hadn’t stopped smiling. Her cheerfulness was so noticeable that the neighbors, who had gone foraging for wild vegetables with her, suspected she might have gone crazy from the earlier incident.

Shen Zhihuan stepped forward to help but was shooed away with a light smack.

“Go wash your hands and eat,” Li Qiuhua ordered.

“Mom, your hand is still injured. Let me help with the chores from now on.” Shen Zhihuan glanced at Li Qiuhua’s wrist, which was still slightly red despite the swelling having gone down.

“It’s just a little twist! Dr. Hua said it’ll be fine in two days as long as I don’t overdo it,” Li Qiuhua dismissed.

“Third Sister, did you sell your hair?” Weidong asked, eyes wide as he stared at her now chin-length bob. His thin face was full of astonishment.

Li Qiuhua paused mid-step over the threshold, turning back with a curious look.

“Zhihuan, did you really sell your hair?”

She had noticed something different earlier but couldn’t put her finger on it.

“No, I just cut it because it kept getting tangled.” Shen Zhihuan instinctively touched her fluffy short hair. Sell it? Who would buy this “dry straw”? Maybe to patch up the mane of a shedding lion.

“Third Sister, you look good with short hair!” Weidong exclaimed, wiping his wet hands on his clothes.

Shen Zhihuan: “…”

Good-looking? What kind of filter was he using?

“Your sister is beautiful, so of course she looks good with any hairstyle,” Li Qiuhua agreed with a proud nod.

“…”

Alright, no doubt about it—they’re biologically related.