Relying on memory, Tong Xuelu made her way toward the gates of the compound.

The Tong family lived in the General Logistics Compound—every one of them a proper cadre.

Father Tong was the director of the Fuel Department under the PLA’s General Logistics Headquarters. Mother Tong chaired the Women’s Federation. The rest of the family also held respectable positions in various work units.

Even in modern times, a background like that would be impressive. No wonder the original host had clung so desperately to this family.

Tong Xuelu was quietly relieved that she hadn’t run into any of the neighborhood aunties along the way.

But of course…

Just as she reached the compound gates, a Phoenix-brand bicycle screeched to a stop right in front of her—barely half a meter away.

Like a roadblock sent by fate.

Tong Xuelu looked up.

Standing before her was a girl of seventeen or eighteen, dressed in military-style casuals. Her hair was slicked back into a long braid, and her large forehead gleamed under the sun.

The girl looked surprised to see her—then her eyes lit up with malicious delight.

“Tong Xuelu, what—did the Tong family finally kick you out? Hahaha!”

“Didn’t you used to say they’d never bear to let you go?”

Take a moment.

Really let that tone sink in.

It was dripping with glee.

This girl was Fang Jingyuan—the younger sister of the original Tong Xuelu’s fiancé, Fang Wenyuan. He was tall, handsome, with excellent prospects, and the original host had been absolutely obsessed with him—head over heels, banging-her-head-against-a-wall obsessed.

Fang Jingyuan, however, had no intention of letting Tong Xuelu become her sister-in-law. She’d sabotaged their relationship at every turn, and the original host hadn’t exactly taken it lying down. The two had fought constantly like a pair of bickering hens in a pit.

But that was the old Tong Xuelu. This Tong Xuelu had zero interest in being anyone’s sister-in-law.

She treated Fang Jingyuan like a fart in the wind, casually stepping around her and walking on.

“……”

That was definitely a snub. Fang Jingyuan could feel it deep in her bones.

As Tong Xuelu passed, Fang Jingyuan suddenly reached out and grabbed her wrist.
“Tong Xuelu, are you deaf? I was talking to you!”

Tong Xuelu stopped in her tracks, her gaze landing squarely on Fang Jingyuan’s forehead.

Fang Jingyuan immediately bristled—she was very sensitive about her forehead.
“What are you staring at? You wanna say my head’s huge again, don’t you?!”

Her head was big. Tong Xuelu had given her all sorts of nicknames over the years.
Big Skull, Cabbage Head, Bobblehead…

And the cruelest of all: Goldfish with a Tiger Head.

It was infuriating!

“She’s been teasing you about that big ol’ head for years now,” the old guard at the gate chuckled, grinning wide. “She definitely means it this time, too.”

Tong Xuelu: “…”

Sir, can you not stir the pot?

Fang Jingyuan’s face flushed red. “My mom says people with big foreheads are smart and blessed! You wish you had one!”

She expected Tong Xuelu to come back with a sharp, sarcastic jab—just like always.

But to her surprise, the girl’s red lips curled into a smile, a faint dimple appearing at the corner of her mouth as she said sweetly, “You’re right. People with big foreheads are usually pretty smart.”

Fang Jingyuan: Huh?

What was going on today? Was Tong Xuelu’s fighting spirit broken?

And now she was complimenting her?

Fang Jingyuan lifted her chin in suspicion. “What are you playing at? Don’t think a few nice words will get you off the hook!”

She and Tong Xuelu had been at each other’s throats since childhood. But Tong Xuelu was slippery—somehow she always came out on top, and Fang Jingyuan ended up taking the heat.

Now that Tong Xuelu had finally been kicked out of the Tong family? No way was she letting this golden opportunity slide.

Tong Xuelu’s eyes swept over her face slowly, then she said, almost lazily, “You’ve got strong features. I’d say you’re about an eight out of ten in looks. But that hairstyle… it’s doing you no favors. Easily knocks you down two points.”

Fang Jingyuan: ????

For a moment, Fang Jingyuan didn’t know how to respond. She decided to play it cool—stay quiet and see what kind of nonsense might come out of Tong Xuelu’s mouth next.

And then—

Tong Xuelu said nothing.

She yanked her wrist free and walked off without even looking back.

What the hell?!

Fang Jingyuan was fuming.

Meanwhile, Tong Xuelu strolled toward the bus station with her travel bag slung over her shoulder.

After years of being a full-time “green tea”—manipulating people had basically become muscle memory. Spot an NPC? Instinct says: target acquired.

Fang Jingyuan might be spoiled and temperamental, but she wasn’t actually a bad person. More importantly—she was the daughter of a high-ranking official.

Her father was the Minister of Supplies under the General Logistics Department, ranking even higher than Tong Xuelu’s own father. A connection like that? Definitely worth cultivating.

From what she recalled, Fang Jingyuan was the type to respond to honey, not vinegar.

But given their history—two sharp tongues constantly clashing—simple flattery wouldn’t cut it. She needed bait. Something irresistible.

And that enormous forehead and unfortunate hairstyle? Perfect bait.

She’d cast the hook. Now it was just a matter of time before the fish bit.

It took her half an hour to reach the station, and another full hour before a bus finally arrived for Yanqing County.

The bus was painted in faded red and white, its shell caked with grime. Inside, it was rundown and reeked of dust, oil, and stale air.

After climbing aboard, Tong Xuelu handed over three mao to the ticket collector—a man whose nostrils seemed permanently flared in contempt—and found a spot in the very back row.

Once the bus got moving, the driver started humming a little tune, driving that clunky old thing with the swagger of someone behind the wheel of a Maybach. The entire ride was a symphony of dust, bumps, and back pain, all the way to Yanqing County.

Tong Xuelu nearly puked from all the jostling. When she finally got off, she had to sit on a nearby rock for a good while before she could settle her stomach.

The Tong family on this side was a dual-income household. Before their deaths, her birth parents had worked at the Hongxing Textile Factory.

Following directions from locals, she eventually found her way to the factory’s residential compound.

Only… the condition of the place was worse than she’d imagined.

The courtyard wasn’t very big, but nearly twenty households were crammed into it—most with at least three generations living under one roof, some even four.

Which meant: this tiny yard housed over a hundred people.

Too many people, too little space. Belongings spilled out into the shared walkways. The entire place felt suffocating—cramped, filthy, and utterly chaotic.

Before transmigrating, she’d lived in a thousand-square-meter villa. Even the bathrooms there were bigger than any of these dingy single rooms.

Tong Xuelu hadn’t even stepped inside yet, and already her head was pounding.

“Comrade, who are you looking for?”

A booming voice behind her jolted her from her thoughts.

She turned to see a stout auntie in a blue work shirt standing behind her, a three-year-old boy tucked under one arm.

The little boy looked like he’d just rolled through a mud pit—grimy from head to toe, with twin streaks of snot dangling from his nose.

Catching her gaze, he grinned from ear to ear and chirped cheerfully, “Big sis, you’re pwetty!”

The auntie squinted at Tong Xuelu and gasped internally. In all her decades of life, she’d never seen such a good-looking young woman. That fair, delicate skin—it was softer than fresh tofu!

And that outfit: military-style fatigues, a canvas satchel printed with “Serve the People”, plus a travel bag with a panda on it—every item screamed background not ordinary.

She’d lived in this courtyard for years and had never seen anyone with a relative like this before!

“Hello, Auntie. I’m looking for Tong Dajun’s home,” Tong Xuelu said politely.

Tong Dajun was the name of her biological father.

The moment the woman heard the name, she gave Tong Xuelu a full once-over—head to toe, then back up again. “And who are you to Tong Dajun?”

Tong Xuelu lowered her gaze, a pained expression flickering across her face.

“I’m his daughter.”

“Oh my heavens! You’re the daughter they mixed up years ago?!”

The auntie’s voice naturally came with a built-in megaphone. Her shout echoed through the courtyard, and in no time, several people came hurrying out of their homes.

“Old Cai’s wife, what are you yelling about now?”

“Quick, come see! This is Tong Dajun’s real daughter—the one they mistook all those years ago!”

A small group of women came rushing over like a flock of hens, quickly surrounding Tong Xuelu like she was some rare zoo exhibit, eyes scanning her up and down.

“Oh wow, it really is her! I’ve seen her photo before!”

“Now that you mention it, she really does look like Tong Dajun and his wife—especially that nose. Uncanny!”

“Sweetheart, are you back to pay respects to your parents, or to see your younger siblings? Did your other parents agree to let you come?”

Tong Xuelu felt like a swarm of ten thousand flies was buzzing in her ears, but not a trace of impatience showed on her face.

She patiently waited for the aunties to finish bombarding her with questions—each louder and more intrusive than the last—before speaking clearly and calmly: “I’m here to return to my roots.”

What?!

Return to her roots?

“Oh, sweetheart, you’re not joking, are you?”

“I heard your other parents are big officials. You’re really choosing to come back and recognize these parents?”

Tong Xuelu lifted her head, eyes serious and unwavering.

“I was born a Tong. Of course I’m here to acknowledge my real parents. If someone won’t even recognize their own flesh and blood—what are they if not heartless?”

Just moments ago, they’d all thought she looked far too pampered and polished to willingly return to a hard life here. But now—hearing her say that?

Suddenly, she seemed like a grounded, loyal girl who knew where she came from.

Still, someone in the crowd couldn’t help but question: “Your parents passed away over half a month ago… why are you only showing up now?”

That got the rest of the group frowning too.

Yeah… If she really cared, wouldn’t she have come back sooner?

Tong Xuelu’s brow furrowed, and her eyes turned red in an instant.

“Sister, it’s not that I didn’t want to come. The moment I heard what happened to my parents… I fainted on the spot. Then I got seriously ill. I couldn’t even get out of bed until two days ago. Look at my arm—”

She rolled up her sleeve to reveal her forearm. There were still visible pinprick marks from IV drips, the surrounding skin bruised purple-blue against her pale, delicate skin. It looked painful—and convincing.

The crowd gasped.

Not a single voice of doubt remained.

This girl… has a conscience! A real heart!

Unlike that Tong Zhenzhen, who was raised by the Tong family for all those years, only to walk away without looking back.

No gratitude at all!

Tong Xuelu pulled her sleeve back down, lowering her gaze slightly.

The needle marks were real, and the bruises too—but not from grief. They were the result of the original host deliberately making herself sick after learning the truth about her identity, all to earn sympathy from her adoptive parents.

And really—who doesn’t like a child who seems thoughtful and full of heart?

The aunties, now thoroughly won over, became even more affectionate, crowding around her as they guided her deeper into the courtyard.

As they chatted and clucked like hens along the way, Tong Xuelu picked up more information about her biological family.

It turned out that Tong Dajun and his wife were originally from Beihe Province. Years ago, after saving the life of the textile factory director’s son, the couple had been brought to the capital to work in the city—Tong Dajun as a loading worker in the warehouse, and his wife as a textile worker.

In the countryside, having two salaried workers eating government-supplied grain was something to boast about but life wasn’t easy for them. They had four children to raise, and on top of that, they sent half their monthly wages back to their hometown to support extended family.

Two months ago, the eldest daughter, Tong Zhenzhen, fell ill. After recovering, she suddenly declared she wasn’t their real daughter, claiming her biological parents were high-ranking officials. Despite Tong Dajun and his wife pleading with her, she left home without looking back.

Worried sick, the couple worked by day and searched by night. Eventually, they found her—only to be told the truth: Tong Zhenzhen really wasn’t their biological child.

What broke them even more was that neither of their daughters wanted to return home with them.

Heartbroken, they went back to work at the factory… but on the way, they got into a traffic accident and didn’t survive.

Travel was inconvenient in those days, so their funerals were handled by the factory and done locally.

Tong Xuelu raised an eyebrow. “So… the folks back in Beihe haven’t been told what happened to my parents yet?”

The little boy under Auntie Cai’s arm squirmed. She gave him a light smack on the butt and replied, “Of course they’ve been told. Right after the accident, Jiaming made a phone call back home. But they’re in the middle of the harvest and can’t leave yet. They said they’ll come up once things settle down.”

“Jiaming’s in school right now, isn’t he?”

Tong Xuelu paused for a moment before realizing—Tong Jiaming was the original host’s eldest younger brother.

“No, he dropped out a while ago!” another auntie chimed in before the first could answer.

“Ever since your parents passed, Jiaming’s had to take care of his younger siblings and work at the factory too. Poor boy’s had it rough!”

Children without parents were often treated like weeds—trampled and overlooked. And the early lives of these future titans really had been full of hardship.

That said… Tong Xuelu couldn’t help but think of those relatives back in Beihe, who treated Tong Dajun and his wife like walking ATMs.

Every time they came up to the capital, it was like a swarm of locusts had passed through—nothing left behind. Now that the couple was gone, there was no way those relatives would just sit back and do nothing.

Forget the compensation money from the government and the factory—the two job positions alone would be enough for them to make a fuss over.

Which meant…

The reason those people hadn’t shown up wasn’t because they were busy—it was probably because they hadn’t even been told what happened.

Tong Xuelu’s gaze sharpened slightly as she thought about Tong Jiaming—that future business genius.

Well, well.

Seems like the future bigshot has a bit of a wolf under that sheep’s clothing.

=^_^=

Author has something to say: Tong Xuelu: “A soft-spoken future mastermind with a dark streak? Color me intrigued.”