Chapter 3

Zhang Hongying was truly enraged—so much so that even in her sleep, she was muttering, “If only I had known! If only…”

For some reason, as she muttered in her sleep, a sudden whirlwind rose up in the room.
It spun and spun, swirling around Zhang Hongying. Her tightly furrowed brows began to relax.

She was dreaming—she dreamed she was back in her childhood. She wanted to ask her mother face-to-face: why did you treat me like that?

“Ugh… it’s so cold!”

“Should we wake A-Ying up to make breakfast?”

“No need today, there’s no work in the fields this morning. Let her sleep a bit more,” her father replied.

Zhang Hongying blinked: what’s going on? Am I still dreaming? Why does this dream have sound too?

“Aiyo, my sweet girl is awake?” said Li Xiaofang with a smile. “It’s cold—there’s snow outside. If you want to play in the snow, get up. If not, sleep a bit longer. I’ll make breakfast today.”

Zhang Hongying stared blankly at Li Xiaofang. Her mother was still young. She herself… was so little.

Wasn’t this supposed to be a dream?

Zhang Xiaoshu asked, “What’s wrong with A-Ying?”

Li Xiaofang replied, “Probably not fully awake yet. There’s no work with all this snow—let her sleep more.”

Then she left the room, not caring about Zhang Hongying’s dazed look.

Soon, the sound of rice being washed and snow being swept came from outside. Li Xiaofang was making breakfast, and Zhang Xiaoshu was shoveling snow.

Zhang Hongying looked at her younger brother Zhang Hongxing lying beside her—his skin was fair, lashes long, and he looked as adorable as ever.

But now Zhang Hongying already knew—this was a wolf. A man-eating wolf. In her past life, even her husband and children were devoured by him!

Since it’s just a dream, there’s no harm in giving him a beating, right?

Zhang Hongying grabbed a chunk of soft flesh on Zhang Hongxing’s body and gave it a vicious pinch.

“Ouch!” Zhang Hongxing woke up crying from the pain.

Seeing it was Zhang Hongying, he burst into tears. “Mom! A-Ying’s gone crazy! She pinched me for no reason and it really hurt!”

“What happened?” Li Xiaofang rushed in after tossing some firewood into the stove.

Zhang Hongxing pouted, “Your daughter’s gone mad! She pinched me out of nowhere!”

Li Xiaofang glared at Zhang Hongying, “Why’d you pinch him for no reason?”

Caught off guard, Zhang Hongying mumbled, “I thought I was still dreaming…”

Li Xiaofang didn’t believe her: “Dreaming and you still manage to pinch your brother?”

Zhang Hongxing shouted, “No fair! I want to pinch her back!”

Zhang Hongying wasn’t quick-witted, so she hurriedly put on her clothes. “Mom, I’ll go help with the fire.”

The cotton coat was stiff and cold, and her arms ached from the chill as she put it on. She looked enviously at Zhang Hongxing’s silk-padded jacket. Her own jacket had a cotton filling and coarse fabric lining—no warmth at all. His had silk inside and was lined with thermal fabric.

In her past life, she must’ve been blind to believe her mother’s words that both kids were treated the same!

Zhang Hongying darted out, leaving Zhang Hongxing stomping in frustration.

Li Xiaofang still nagged behind her: “If you’re not putting your clothes on, stay in bed and keep warm. Don’t shake all your body heat away—you’ll catch a cold!”

Decades later, the news would talk about global warming. But back then, winters in Jiangnan were truly bitter. Zhang Hongying’s hands were covered in chilblains. Temperatures often dropped to minus seven or eight degrees Celsius. Snow could reach up to your knees.

Zhang Hongying didn’t understand what was happening. She had already buried her parents—why were they alive again, as if nothing had happened?

She hadn’t studied much—didn’t even finish elementary school—and never really learned how to use a smartphone. It wasn’t until she was in her forties, when she had to take her parents to the hospital and needed to register and pay online, that she was forced to learn.

She had no interest in digital entertainment. So she had no idea that she had been reborn.

She stood in a daze, absentmindedly feeding the stove with firewood.

All the wood was dried rice stalks, stacked high outside.

“Hongying?”

No response.

“A-Ying?”

Still nothing. She was lost in thought.

Li Xiaofang came over and gave her a push: “Calling you, didn’t you hear?”

Zhang Hongying snapped out of it. “Mom, what did you say? I’m still half asleep.”

Li Xiaofang repeated, “Your school moved so far away, and you’re not good at studying anyway. Maybe you should just stop going. No need to suffer like that—especially for a girl.”

Though Zhang Hongying was three years older than her brother, her grades were terrible and he had already caught up to her. She asked, “Then what about Ah Xing? Will he still go?”

Li Xiaofang said, “Your aunt’s house is near the school. Let Hongxing live with them, and come home during holidays.”

Zhang Hongying asked tentatively, “Can I live with them too?”

Of course Li Xiaofang disagreed. “Then who’s going to wash the clothes and cook at home? It’s just me managing everything, plus I raise silkworms. You want to wear me out?”

Zhang Hongying felt upset.

Why was she dreaming about this again?

It was from this point on—when Zhang Hongxing kept studying and she dropped out—that their lives took completely different paths.

Zhang Hongying truly didn’t want to keep studying. Reading and math were both too hard. A pen in her hand was never as obedient as a hoe or rake.

But if she didn’t go to school, she’d immediately be sent to work in a township factory. One job paid 150 yuan a month—her mother would soon push her in that direction.

The silk-reeling factory was brutal work: catching thread ends, tying knots, moving fast… If you were even a little slow, you fell behind. The boiling water for processing silk cocoons was scalding—more than once she thought her hands would be cooked alive.

Back then, several factories were hiring: clothing, textile, silk, weaving. The silk factory was the hardest to get into. You had to be sharp, nimble, and quick. But it also paid the most.

All Zhang Hongying had heard from Li Xiaofang was that the silk factory paid 150 a month, and you got a kilo of cotton at the end of the year. Save that up and use it to make silk quilts for your dowry—people would be jealous. Her mother never mentioned how her wages would actually be handled.

Zhang Hongying was foolish. She never thought to guard against her parents or brother. From age fourteen to twenty, she worked hard and never saw a single cent of her wages.

Li Xiaofang “helped keep it safe,” and in those seven or eight years, Zhang Hongying earned almost twenty thousand yuan—every last bit was spent by that wolf of a brother!

When she thought about it now, Zhang Hongying just felt it wasn’t worth it.

But even in a dream, she didn’t know what she could do.

Study? She didn’t think she was capable of it. Even into her fifties, she still struggled to recognize characters—always guessing or recognizing only half a word.

When it came to studying, Zhang Hongying felt that she and Shen Jianzhen—put together—just barely made a complete person.