Chapter 1  

At dawn, a crimson sun slowly rose between Cloud-Surpassing Peak and Heaven-Reaching Peak, casting a radiant glow over the mountain summits. Though autumn had already arrived, the vegetation remained lush and green, with only small patches tinged in gold or fiery red.  

An hour later, the sunlight finally reached a small thatched cottage at the foot of the mountain. Soft, gentle rays seeped through the broken paper window, illuminating half the face of the person lying on the earthen bed.  

The figure appeared to be a woman—unkempt, sleeping like the dead, with tangled black hair resembling the gnarled roots of an ancient banyan tree, clumps of dust and rainwater trapped in the knots. A smear of brown grease clung to the corner of her mouth, and her face looked as though it hadn’t been washed in ages. Yet, upon closer inspection, one could discern delicate features, with small patches of clean skin that were fair and smooth.  

Shen Qingran turned over in her sleep, but something felt off about the bed today—hard and cold, nothing like the spacious one she was used to, which could easily fit over a dozen people. This time, with just one turn, she tumbled right off.  

Thud—Shen Qingran landed headfirst on the ground, her skull striking something hard. The pain jolted her awake.  

Clutching her head, she sat up and saw that she had shattered a bowl, its rim smeared with fresh blood.  

As the throbbing in her forehead intensified, Shen Qingran’s senses gradually sharpened. The first thing that caught her eye was a pair of pale, delicate hands—weak and frail from years of inactivity. Looking up, she saw sleeves of bright red, stained with unidentifiable filth.  

A chaotic mess of tables and chairs, clothes piled halfway up the bed, a damp and musty floor—all of it suddenly sprawled before Shen Qingran’s eyes. She froze for a full minute before it dawned on her—had she been kidnapped from her heavily secured villa and dumped in the mountains?  

Without any warning?  

No… these weren’t her hands. Though she was lazy and indulgent, she still made sure to exercise regularly. Her fingers were long and strong, nothing like these weak, feeble ones.  

The strangely familiar scene stirred something in her memory. Scrambling to her feet, ignoring the wound on her head, she flung open the door, panting slightly from the sudden exertion.  

Before her loomed two towering peaks—one densely forested, the other jagged with bizarre rock formations.  

A direct view of the mountains, exactly like the Li Family Village described in the novel *Transmigration: The Top-Tier Farm Girl*.  

Shen Qingran had fallen asleep reading this novel the night before. No matter how dull the content, she had an uncanny ability to remember nearly everything she read.  

*Transmigration: The Top-Tier Farm Girl* was a farming-themed power fantasy. The female protagonist was bound to a Breeding Station System that provided all the improved seeds and agricultural techniques of the 21st century, allowing her to utterly crush the local varieties in both yield and quality. The heroine fought off toxic relatives, outsmarted greedy merchants and landlords, and led her younger siblings to prosperity.  

A general, fleeing from pursuers, took refuge in the village and was rescued by the heroine. With the village’s limited land unable to accommodate her farming ambitions, she left with the general and, with his and the system’s help, revolutionized agriculture across the nation. Her pure, unpretentious farming skills caught the attention of the domineering prince, the male lead.  

The prince smirked arrogantly, “Woman, you’ve got guts.”  

As for the general… well, Shen Qingran had skipped eighty chapters of the author’s filler content and barely noticed this cannon fodder.

The novel spans two million words, with one and a half million dedicated solely to farming—starting from one or two acres, then leasing an entire village, and eventually dominating the entire agricultural, forestry, livestock, and fishing industries nationwide… Shen Qingran fell asleep reading it, utterly baffled by where the appeal lay.  

As a spoiled rich kid who loathed manual labor and couldn’t tell one grain from another, the idea of farming was pure fantasy to him. If he were transmigrated as the female lead, he’d rather die.  

The only reason Shen Qingran even picked up this book was because he couldn’t tell spinach from lettuce, earning his sister’s disdain. She had strongly recommended it, insisting he learn how the female lead thrived through hard work and reclamation.  

Bored, Shen Qingran skimmed a few pages and was immediately astonished. How could this female lead—a city-bred office worker—suddenly become so skilled after transmigrating into a sixteen-year-old farm girl? She could make tofu, repair houses, start fires, raise silkworms, weave bamboo baskets, extract sugar, compost fertilizer, and even hatch chicks…  

Totally unrealistic!  

Shen Qingran scoffed.  

In contrast, he was far more intrigued by the cannon-fodder female antagonist who appeared in the early chapters.  

This character was the polar opposite of the female lead. Originally male, he was lazy and gluttonous—so much so that even his own mother couldn’t stand it. Despite living in an era that favored sons over daughters, she disguised her only son as a girl and married him off in place of his older sister.  

“Our family is too poor to support you forever. The Li family’s son just returned from five years in the army and is said to have brought back a fortune. Your sister was betrothed to him as a child. Though his parents are gone, the token of their pledge remains.”  

“You’ll pretend to be mute and sleep separately. If he finds out you’re a man and abandons you, you’ll starve to death.”  

His mother’s threats were sharp, but after a pause, she wiped her tears and sobbed, “Your father and I won’t live much longer. What will become of you after we’re gone? It’s not that I’m heartless, sending you off to the mountains. If you’d just lift a finger to work, I wouldn’t have to disguise you as a girl.”  

The “female antagonist” was shamelessly indifferent and balked at playing mute. “What about Da Niu and Er Niu? Even if you die, they’ll still be around. It’s not like they’d let me starve.”  

His mother slapped him across the face. “They’ll be married soon—how could they care for you? And don’t act like you’re just missing one meal! You demand chicken and duck every day, never sharing a bite with your sisters. Even the emperor isn’t as greedy as you! If you’ve got the guts, go smash your head and reincarnate as a prince. If not, you’re getting married!”  

“Listen, the Li boy is wealthier than us and honest too. You’ll eat whatever you want. He’s a soldier—strong and sturdy. Just boss him around for chores.” Shen’s mother tempered her harshness with sweet promises, manipulating her son until he grew eager for the match.  

Yet, for some reason, the Li family’s son wanted to break the engagement, offering twenty taels of silver as compensation—a sum that could comfortably support a family of five for years.  

But Shen’s mother had foresight. She knew that with her son around, even two hundred taels would vanish within a year. Seeing how well-off the Li boy was, foisting her son onto him was the perfect solution.  

So the engagement stood, and the “female antagonist” was married off to Li Family Village. Without him even asking, his husband immediately suggested separate rooms.  

After the wedding, the “female antagonist” lorded over his spouse, treating him like a beast of burden. Flaunting his looks, he incited local troublemakers to sabotage the female lead’s crops. Even after being taught a lesson, he never learned. In the end, his husband could take no more and divorced him.

The supporting female character lost her source of livelihood. After squandering all the money her husband had given her, she finally reached the point of extreme hunger on a dark and windy night. Unable to resist, she ate a few wild mushrooms growing by the wall, died of poisoning, and wasn’t discovered until her corpse began to rot.

This supporting character shared the same name as Shen Qingran.

Though I’m not as extreme as this character, her refusal to farm at all costs is just like me, Shen Qingran thought. If I were her, I’d probably starve to death sooner or later too.

Dying from sheer laziness—now that’s a kind of backbone.

But now he had become this supporting female character!

And not just after marrying into the family, but at a particularly awkward point in time.

In the novel, three days later, the husband would see the true nature of this supporting character and want to return her. Using Shen Qingran’s serious illness as an excuse, he summoned Shen’s mother to the house and proposed a divorce.

The Shen family had moved to another village ten years prior, a long journey away. Originally, after shaking off this burden, they planned to relocate again to cut off all contact—both to prevent the truth from leaking and to stop the son-in-law from changing his mind. Before they could finalize their plans, they suddenly heard their son was gravely ill and, unable to bear it, came to visit.

Upon hearing about the divorce, Shen’s mother was thunderstruck. She threw a tantrum on the spot, wailing and making a scene, insisting that the Li family had taken her daughter’s virtue and now wanted to abandon her. A girl who’d lost her purity could never marry again—she’d be doomed to become a nun for life!

“Have you no conscience? Back when your mother was sick, it was our Shen family who lent your father twenty coins to buy medicine—that’s how you came to be! What, now that you’ve made it big, you think you can just discard her? They say a man should never abandon his wife in hard times—everyone, come and judge this injustice… My poor, unfortunate daughter…”

The “supporting character” played along, weeping softly by her side, a pitiful sight.

The husband stood nearby, his face dark with anger, unable to defend himself. The divorce was dropped, and in his fury, he left the same day with villagers to trade medicinal herbs, not to return for ten days.

Today was the eighth day.

Shen Qingran suddenly grew nervous. He’d only complained a little about the lack of realism—was fate really going to play him like this? How was he supposed to clean up this mess?

Should he follow the female lead’s example, seize control of the plot, and turn the tables? Undergo a drastic personality change that would leave everyone stunned?

Shen Qingran sat irritably on the doorstep, panting. What plot was there in this damn book? It was all farming! The female lead turned things around by farming—what the hell did he know about that?

Might as well starve to death like the supporting character.

He was actually getting a little hungry…

He went to the kitchen and searched everywhere, only to find nothing but a bit of leftover rice.

The table, however, was piled high with chicken bones—enough for more than one bird, leftovers from seven days ago. Flies buzzed around, filling the air with the stench of a sewer.

Shen Qingran smacked his forehead. He remembered now. The book mentioned that during the husband’s absence, the supporting character had let loose, eating everything edible in the house. In theory, one person couldn’t consume so much, but the character was lazy. Killing a chicken, plucking its feathers, lighting a fire, and cooking it was too much work, so she’d simply hired a few idle young men from the village to do it all for her—payment being a share of the feast.

For people who barely had enough to eat or wear, who would refuse such a sweet deal?

Within days, the chickens and ducks the husband had raised, the vegetables he’d planted, and whatever silver the supporting character knew about—all were squandered. All that remained were scattered feathers, a table of chicken bones, and half a jar of rice.

A locust plague couldn’t have been worse.

Shen Qingran thought of the husband’s impending return in two days and felt a headache coming on.

This really wasn’t his doing.

The pufferfish was wronged.

His body was starting to smell, and Shen Qingran searched around but couldn’t figure out how to start a fire. Shivering, he had no choice but to take a cold bath, scrubbing his face clean. When it came to finding clothes, he hit another snag. The original owner’s room was messier than a pigsty, with dirty clothes rolled into balls everywhere. Shen Qingran had no desire to step foot in there again.

After some thought, he went to push open the door of another room.

It didn’t budge. Locked.

Shen Qingran smiled wryly: …Completely understandable.

Circling around, he noticed the window wasn’t shut tight. Quickly, he climbed in through it. The inside was the complete opposite—neat and tidy, with just a bed, a wardrobe, a table and chair, and nothing extra. The quilt was folded as precisely as a block of tofu, unmistakably the habits of someone who’d spent years in the military.

Shen Qingran opened the wardrobe, feeling like an amateur thief.

He silently repeated to himself, “We were once husband and wife, husband and wife.” If I hadn’t come, given how wasteful your wife was, even this room would’ve been ruined.

Muttering an apology under his breath, he picked out the oldest-looking robe and draped it over himself.

Shen Qingran didn’t know how to cook. Hungry, he sat on the doorstep, gazing at the blue sky and white clouds encircled by mountain peaks, sighing heavily ten times in a row. He remembered the book’s setting—Li Family Village was remote, requiring a full day and night’s walk just to leave the mountains.

And that was assuming he didn’t get lost. Shen Qingran had a realistic understanding of this body’s stamina.

Maybe I should take a page from the original owner’s book?

Lying on the bed, he waited until the sun was high overhead before grabbing a small bag of rice and heading out.

Trading raw rice for cooked food—brilliant.

Li Family Village was isolated, nestled where two endless mountain ranges converged, with Cloud-Surpassing Peak and Heaven-Reaching Peak at their ends. The original owner’s home stood alone at the mountain’s base, far from the other villagers.

After meandering through vast fields, Shen Qingran finally spotted the clustered farmhouses.

“Strange, it’s midday—why is everyone still working in the fields? Shouldn’t they be home for lunch?”

As a cross-dressing fake mute, Shen Qingran could only keep his confusion to himself.

The villagers occasionally straightened their backs, spotting Shen Qingran with initial puzzlement before their expressions shifted to surprise and realization.

The villagers rarely saw Shen Qingran cleaned up, barely recognizing him now. With his face washed, his bright eyes and white teeth stood out, all foolishness gone, leaving only delicate nobility—hardly the look of a proper housewife. And with her habit of inviting random men over for meals, who knew what else went on? Her husband, dull and silent, was just as odd.

Thinking this, they couldn’t help but show looks of disdain and disgust.

Shen Qingran knocked on a door, gesturing to the young girl who answered to convey his intention.

Half a pound of rice for a bowl of cooked food—a fair deal. Shen Qingran’s eyes were sincere.

The girl’s gaze lingered on the rice in his hand, clearly tempted, but: “We don’t have any leftovers.”

Poor families barely had enough to eat at each meal.

Shen Qingran was baffled. Didn’t I come right at mealtime???

Then he recalled the villagers still laboring in the fields and suddenly realized—ancient people only ate two meals a day! Around nine in the morning and four in the afternoon.

His stomach growled loudly, and Shen Qingran’s face fell.

He pouted at the girl.

Leftovers would do too.

Under pressure, the girl said, “We don’t have any of those either…”

“How about this—I’ll cook for you, and you give me half.” The girl had been washing clothes all morning and was hungry too.

What a clever little thing! Shen Qingran happily handed her the rice.

Shen Qingran tucked his hands into his sleeves and followed behind the little girl, watching as she struck the fire steel against the flint, sparks flying instantly to ignite the flammable tinder in the middle, creating a bright flame.  

Shen Qingran silently took note, continuing to learn humbly.  

“Chunhua, who are you talking to?” Chunhua’s mother, Cai Shi, asked as she returned from the fields, setting down her hoe. Suddenly catching the fragrant aroma of rice, her expression darkened, and she stormed inside. “You worthless brat! I’ve been slaving away in the fields, and you dare eat alone without a thought for your own mother?”  

Cai Shi inhaled sharply, swallowing hard—this wretched girl had even steamed dry rice!  

She lifted the pot lid and saw the fine rice inside, her eyes flickering. Only then did she notice Shen Qingran standing nearby.  

With a loud “snap,” Cai Shi firmly closed the lid, pulled off her sleeves, and began whipping her daughter without another word. “Bringing just anyone into the house! Huh? Do you still want to marry? She lures in wild men, and you want to follow her example? Hah! What rotten luck! The whole Li Family Village has only one such slut, and everyone knows to stay far away—yet you bring her right into our home!”  

Chunhua dodged the blows, knowing full well that no one spoke to Shen Qingran for fear of their reputations being tarnished. But the rice Shen Qingran had brought was fine grain bought from town, while her own family ate husks mixed with scraps. She had been craving it for so long.  

Shen Qingran’s mind was entirely on the pot. It took him a while to realize Cai Shi’s veiled insults. He shielded Chunhua behind him. Right now, he was too hungry to argue, so he lifted the lid, took out his own bowl, and scooped some rice, making sure to leave half for Chunhua.  

Seeing that he had no shame at all, Cai Shi swiftly snatched the bowl from his hands and began shoving Shen Qingran toward the door. “Go beg your lover for food—this is my family’s rice!”  

Once rice entered her pot, there was no way she’d share it with some adulteress.