Chapter 1 Binding to the Melon Eating System

“Do you think she’ll just die like this?”
“No way, right? But she’s already been unconscious for half a day. Even Doctor Sun at the clinic said her illness is hard to treat.”
“Wuwuwu… Don’t say bad things about my mom! I hate you guys!”
“You two are like cucumbers—asking to be smacked! If you’re that bored, go find something to do and stop being an eyesore here.”
“Okay, Mom.”
“An’an, don’t cry! Grandma will take you to see your mom.”

—Creak! The sound of the wooden door being pushed open.

Ji Xiaoxi groggily heard some voices. Her eyelids were heavy and hard to open. Then a puff of warm breath brushed against her ear, followed by a childish voice whispering softly:

“Mommy, don’t sleep in. An’an brought your favorite roasted sweet potato.”

A child? She’d been single for over 20 years—how could there be a child’s voice around her?

【Ding! Congratulations to this lucky one, you are now bound to the Gossip System!】

A cheerful mechanical voice rang out, speaking on its own regardless of her will.

【Host, you are now in a novel called Spoiled Educated Youth: Transmigration to the Sweet Seventies. The year is 1978. You are Ji Xiaoxi, the first wife of the male lead Lu Jingchuan, who dies young. You also have a 3-year-old son named Lu Qi’an. Your husband will return soon, but he’ll meet the female lead and begin a 1-million-word-long romance full of push and pull, ending with triplets and sweet love.】

【Transmigrated into a book? I was living just fine—why would I enter some story? And not even as the heroine, but as a side character who doesn’t survive past the first chapter? I refuse! Send me back!】

【Host, you were squatting on the roadside gossiping when someone kicked you into the street. You were hit by a car and died. This body is weak, but if you gossip and watch dramas, you’ll earn rewards. I even have a Life-Preserving Pill here—it can cure your illness and make your body healthier.】

【( ﹁ ﹁ ) … Well, since I’m here already, I’ll check things out first.】

Ji Xiaoxi slowly opened her eyes.

Her vision filled with unfamiliar sights. The small room was dim, only a sliver of light coming through the window, casting a bit of warmth. In the corner were some old pieces of furniture, and the peeling walls were decorated with posters full of that era’s charm.

“Mommy, you’re awake! Don’t sleep anymore.”

Ji Xiaoxi turned her head and saw a very cute little boy leaning against the bed, his big grape-like eyes sparkling with joy. He held a roasted sweet potato close to her lips.

“Mommy, eat roasted sweet potato.”

He didn’t control his strength well and almost poked her nose, making Ji Xiaoxi quickly grab the sweet potato. The little boy didn’t care, only grinned happily when he saw her accept it. He scrambled onto the bed, little legs kicking, tiny hands pressing for support, finally perching at the bedside. His eyes blinked at her expectantly, drool faintly glistening at the corners of his lips.

The roasted sweet potato in Ji Xiaoxi’s hand felt awkward—if she ate it, she’d feel like she was bullying a child, but not eating it seemed wrong too. She sat up, broke the sweet potato in half, and handed one piece to the boy.

“Do you want to eat?”

The little one pointed to her belly and said in a milky voice:

“Your tummy is singing, you should eat it yourself. An’an won’t eat.”

Right on cue, her stomach growled twice.

“…”

“An’an should eat too. I’ve already made chicken soup for your mom, so she can eat less now.”

Beside her, Du Yumei reached over and put the other half of the sweet potato into Lu Qi’an’s hands.

“Okay, then I’ll eat with Mommy.”

Lu Qi’an held the sweet potato with both hands, little legs swinging off the bed’s edge.

“Xiaoxi, do you still feel unwell anywhere? If you do, tell Mom.” Du Yumei asked worriedly.

“I’m fine, thank you, Mom.” Ji Xiaoxi shook her head gently.

This original host seemed like the author’s adopted punching bag—piled with endless suffering. A premature baby with heart disease, poorly raised, later forced to do endless chores that ruined her health. After finally marrying into the Lu family, she luckily bore them a big healthy son. Then one morning she heard the news that her husband had “died in battle.” Overcome with grief, she fainted dead away. If Ji Xiaoxi hadn’t transmigrated into her, the body on this bed would already be a cold corpse.

“Doctor Sun said as long as you woke up, you’d be fine. I know this news hit you hard, but as a soldier’s wife, we should’ve been prepared. Xiaoxi, be strong—you still have An’an to raise.”

“Yes, I understand.”

Ji Xiaoxi glanced at the little boy munching roasted sweet potato. So this was the original host’s three-year-old son. He was truly adorable—fair-skinned, with big bright eyes, chubby cheeks like little steamed buns. He chewed happily, carefree and innocent.

Du Yumei stared at Ji Xiaoxi for a while. Confirming she was alright, she finally let out a breath of relief.

Ji Xiaoxi’s illness was one of those so-called “rich people’s ailments”—no stress, no fright, no overwork allowed. Back then, her own mother had even used her illness as a bargaining chip for dowry.

The Ji family, valuing sons over daughters, never took her condition seriously. All the housework fell on her. After laboring during the day, she still had to wash the whole family’s clothes by the river. Once she fainted and nearly drowned, only saved when villagers found her.

Not long after, her mother dragged her to an old bachelor’s house, planning to sell her off for 80 yuan. The old bachelor haggled her down to 50 because of her illness.

Passing by, Du Yumei couldn’t bear the sight and spent 100 yuan to take her home. If an old bachelor ruined her, she’d rather give her to her younger son as a wife.

Her son happened to be on leave, with war brewing. Before he went to the frontlines, she arranged the marriage. No matter what, her young, handsome son was better than some old bachelor. Ji Xiaoxi was pretty too—if she could bear him a child, great. If not, no matter, she didn’t insist. With three sons, it wasn’t like they lacked heirs.

After her son went off to the army, Du Yumei unconsciously did more good deeds, as if to accumulate blessings for him. Though he wasn’t home, his soldier’s allowance was enough to support Ji Xiaoxi—she didn’t have to work in the fields or do heavy housework, and could eat her fill.

Ji Xiaoxi also proved fortunate—one try, and she bore a healthy baby boy, little An’an.

Thinking of her son, Du Yumei turned away, wiping tears from her eyes.

Her son and Xiaoxi… what a pity.