Chapter 12 – Dreaming of the Time Before Transmigration into the Book

While Nan Qiao was still tidying up in the kitchen, Shen Nian had already finished washing up in the courtyard and poured the water into the backyard.

Seeing Nan Qiao still busy in the kitchen, she headed over and began moving a table.

“Qiaoqiao, can we have dinner in the courtyard?”

The kitchen was stiflingly hot after cooking. Even with both windows open and a breeze blowing through, it only stirred up waves of heat.

“Sure, it’s cooler in the yard.”

“Then I’ll move the table out.”

“Alright,” Nan Qiao replied.

After arranging the table and stools, Shen Nian returned to the kitchen and helped bring out the dishes. Once everything was set, she stood at the doorway and chatted with Nan Qiao.

“Qiaoqiao, I saw a vegetable plot in the backyard when I was pouring water just now. Can we grow our own vegetables too?” she asked with a bit of excitement.

Nan Qiao, still focused on the dish in her hands, responded, “We can. I just bought some seeds from Aunt Xiumei. We can try planting a few later. But… Nian Nian, do you know how to grow vegetables?”

Shen Nian furrowed her brows and thought for a moment. “I wouldn’t say I know, but when I was a kid at my grandma’s place, I watched her do it all the time… I’m familiar with the process.”

“That’s great. I never had much luck with flowers or plants. Everything I try to grow dies…”

“Hahaha! Then from now on, let me handle the gardening!” Shen Nian said with confidence.

“Let’s do it together. One day of labor is exhausting enough—coming back to cook and garden on top of that is a lot. But since it’s just the two of us, we don’t need to grow that many vegetables,” Nan Qiao suggested.

“Hmm, true. We can do it together… Oh, Qiaoqiao, can you teach me how to cook? Or maybe I can just watch you and learn. I can’t let you do all the cooking.”

“Of course. Then from now on, you can keep me company while I cook. We can chat too.”

“No problem!” Shen Nian replied cheerfully.

Nan Qiao looked at her thoughtfully, thinking to herself, Shen Nian really suits my taste—fun, respectful, and knows when to advance or retreat. Since we get along, helping and looking out for each other wouldn’t be a bad idea. And as for the college entrance exam… I should find a chance to ask if she’s interested. If she is, we can study together…

“This one’s ready too. Nian Nian, help me take it out—we’re about to eat,” Nan Qiao said, handing over the spicy chicken.

Shen Nian took the dish happily, nearly bouncing in place. “Wow! Qiaoqiao, this spicy chicken smells amazing! Have you been to Wudu before? This looks super authentic!”

“Nope. But it’s tastier when made with chicken thighs. We don’t have those here, so wild chicken will have to do. Still, wild chicken has a nice flavor too.”

“Qiaoqiao, this is already amazing!”

Nan Qiao couldn’t help but chuckle at her dramatic reaction. “Hurry and take it out—everything’s almost ready.”

“Okay! Hurry, Qiaoqiao!”

“Alright,” Nan Qiao said as she turned to check on the mung bean soup.

After a while, the soup was nearly done. She split it into two portions. Worried that it wouldn’t cool quickly, she slipped a few ice cubes into the thermos bottles while Shen Nian wasn’t looking, then hung the bottles down the well to keep them cold.

At this time, only wealthy families in big cities owned refrigerators. For ordinary folks, wells and cellars were the best natural alternatives.

Each thermos bottle had a wooden stopper, so Nan Qiao wasn’t worried about dirt getting in.

After securing the bottles in the well, she returned to the dining table.

“Qiaoqiao, come quick! Master Chef worked so hard—Master Chef gets the first bite!” Shen Nian grinned and handed Nan Qiao a piece of chicken, eagerly watching her eat it.

Nan Qiao smiled, took the bite, and chewed. The flavor really was good. Wild chicken meat was firmer than domestic chicken, and the dish had a unique charm.

Seeing Nan Qiao take the first bite, Shen Nian quickly grabbed a piece herself and stuffed it into her mouth.

The next moment, she let out a dramatic shriek, “Oh my god! Qiaoqiao, you could totally be a head chef at a state-run restaurant! This is way too good!”

Nan Qiao, amused by her theatrics, picked up another piece to try.

She thought it tasted fine. But compared to the typical low-oil, low-salt dishes of this era, hers was indeed much richer. No wonder it tasted better—she wasn’t stingy with ingredients.

Still, she reminded herself they’d need to keep a low profile when cooking from now on.

She said to Shen Nian, “This is our first home-cooked meal—it makes sense to make it special. But we can’t always cook like this. If we draw too much attention, it could be a hassle.”

You don’t fear the thief stealing, but you fear the thief watching.

She wasn’t worried that ill-intentioned villagers could really do anything to her, but constant pestering would still be annoying.

“Alright, we’ll eat porridge and cornbread next time,” Shen Nian sighed with mock tragedy.

“It doesn’t have to be that bad. People in the village already know we’re doing okay. As long as we don’t eat like this every day, it’s fine. No need to torture ourselves.”

“Good! I was worried we’d be stuck with cornbread forever,” Shen Nian sighed with relief.

“Let’s eat,” Nan Qiao said, seeing that she was about to start bouncing around again.

After dinner, Shen Nian volunteered to wash the dishes. Nan Qiao didn’t argue and used the time to bring out the two rocking chairs she had prepared as gifts, placing them on either side of the dining table.

She also brought out some floral water from Shanghai, sprayed some on Shen Nian, then on herself.

Finally, she lay back on the rocking chair, gently swaying.

Night had fallen, and to avoid attracting mosquitoes indoors, only the courtyard light was turned on. Under the soft yellow glow, with stars twinkling above and a light breeze blowing, the rocking chairs swayed gently.

“Qiaoqiao, don’t you think… if we didn’t have to go to work, living here for a lifetime might actually be kind of nice?” Shen Nian murmured as she gazed at the night sky, her voice unusually soft.

“Yeah… it’s peaceful. Good for retirement,” Nan Qiao said, breaking the mood.

“You can’t retire in a village—you still have to work,” Nan Qiao added, pouting in mock protest.

“Nian Nian, have you ever thought that maybe one day the college entrance exam might be reinstated?” Nan Qiao asked in a low voice.

“Of course I have! How could I not? I had great grades in high school,” Shen Nian replied proudly.

“That’s great. I think, for the sake of the country’s development, the college entrance exam will definitely come back one day. While we’re down here in the countryside, we should supervise each other and study hard. Otherwise, if it comes back suddenly and we’re not ready, it’d be a shame.”

“But I didn’t bring any books this time… and it’s hard to buy them now. Next time we go to town, I’ll see if I can scavenge some from the recycling station.”

“I brought books. We can study together,” Nan Qiao said quickly. She didn’t want to rummage through a recycling station. She had a bit of a cleanliness obsession—she even slipped into her spatial dimension when using the latrine. Digging through junk? Absolutely not.

She hadn’t been here long, but she was starting to think this countryside experience might just cure her mysophobia…

“Qiaoqiao, have you thought about where you’d study and what major you’d pick if you got into college? My dad said there are a lot of top universities in the capital.”

“Peking University, probably. As for the major… maybe economics.” Nan Qiao gave it some thought. She had a good understanding of future economic trends, and studying economics might help her make money more effectively.

Yes—before transmigrating into this book, she’d never lacked money and had no real desire to earn more. But now… it was a whole different story.

“Then I want to go to Peking University too! But I want to study English,” Shen Nian said, suddenly lowering her voice.

“My dad told me that the country’s trade with foreign nations has been growing in recent years. So maybe the reinstatement of the college entrance exam really isn’t far off,” she added.

Nan Qiao nodded.

As for foreign languages, she didn’t really care about the schools. Her family had been wealthy before she transmigrated, and her parents took her traveling frequently from a young age.

She knew some English, French, and German—not to the point of fluency, but enough for basic conversation. After all, she had grown up immersed in language during her family’s travels, which was far more effective than rote vocabulary memorization in the standard nine-year compulsory education system.

Just then, outside the courtyard gate, Sheng Yanchuan happened to overhear Nan Qiao’s words.

Although Nan Qiao hadn’t spoken loudly, it was nighttime, and aside from her house and Aunt Xiumei’s, there were no other nearby households, making the surroundings especially quiet.

Because of that, even Nan Qiao’s soft voice came through crystal clear to Sheng Yanchuan.

Her world seems much bigger. In the end, this little village is not her true home, he thought to himself, a twinge of disappointment rising in his heart.

Worried that the two might continue saying things that shouldn’t be overheard, Sheng Yanchuan raised his hand and knocked on the door.

Hearing the noise, Nan Qiao immediately fell silent and looked toward the entrance.

She caught a vague glimpse of a tall figure and quickly recalled that Sheng Yanchuan had promised to come by in the evening for the mung bean water.

She stood up right away and said to Shen Nian, “It should be Brother Sheng. I asked him to give his share of the mung bean water to Auntie.”

Shen Nian nodded and followed Nan Qiao to the gate.

“Brother Sheng, you’re here. I kept the mung bean water in the well—it’s nice and cold. Let me go get it,” Nan Qiao said as she opened the courtyard gate.

“Okay.”

Nan Qiao turned and headed to the well, pulling up both large bottles of mung bean water.

She carried one over and handed it to Sheng Yanchuan.

“Here you go, Brother Sheng.”

“Thanks. I’ll have Peach Blossom return the bottle to you tomorrow.”

“Alright.”

“Then I’ll be heading back,” Sheng Yanchuan said.

Just as Nan Qiao was about to close the gate, Sheng Yanchuan turned back toward her.

Noticing that he seemed to have something to say, Nan Qiao paused and waited.

After a long moment of hesitation, Sheng Yanchuan finally spoke. “People in the village tend to gossip. Be careful what you say in the courtyard.”

Nan Qiao froze at his words, but quickly understood what he meant—he must have overheard their conversation about the college entrance exams.

After some thought, she said, “We were being serious just now. If you’re interested… you could study with us too. But thank you for the reminder—we’ll be more careful going forward.”

Sheng Yanchuan nodded silently, then turned and left, carrying the bottle.

Only then did Nan Qiao close and lock the courtyard gate.

By the time she returned to the rocking chairs, Shen Nian had already poured her a bowl of mung bean water, leaving the other bottle still chilling in the well.

Nan Qiao sat down, gently rocking back and forth as she sipped the cool and slightly sweet drink.

“We really should be more careful about what we say in the future. Brother Sheng overheard us just now…” she murmured.

“Huh? We weren’t even speaking loudly!” Shen Nian said in surprise.

“Maybe it was just too quiet out,” Nan Qiao replied vaguely, making up an excuse.

“Alright, no more loose talk. If we need to say something, we’ll do it inside!” Shen Nian joked, winking at her playfully.

“Drink up. After this, go wash up and get to bed—we have to get up early tomorrow,” Nan Qiao said as she finished her chilled mung bean water.

She washed her bowl and went to the kitchen to fetch hot water for washing up. With hot water already prepared, she used it directly.

After washing up, Nan Qiao bid Shen Nian goodnight and returned to her room.

She pulled the floral curtain closed and hugged her blanket, quickly drifting off into a deep sleep.

In her dream, Nan Qiao seemed to return to the modern world.

In her bedroom, her aunt was sobbing uncontrollably in her uncle’s arms after reading the letter she had left behind.

Her aunt didn’t believe what the letter said and even called the police. But after a long investigation, the authorities found no leads—it truly was as if she had disappeared into the book, just like the letter claimed.

Determined to find her, her aunt and uncle gradually shifted their work and focus back to China. Even after many years passed, they never gave up.

Her aunt never closed the case; the police were still investigating.

But there were no clues at all.

The scene shifted—her aunt seemed to be pregnant. In the hospital, she gave birth to a boy and a girl. They were healthy and safe, yet the longing for Nan Qiao remained her deepest regret.

Time flew by in the dream. Nan Qiao watched her aunt’s children grow—one year old, eight, ten, eighteen… until they married and had children of their own.

Eventually, Nan Qiao saw her aunt, now gray-haired, lying on a hospital bed. Though aged, she still smiled with warmth and kindness. Even in death, she looked peaceful and serene.

Tears rolled down Nan Qiao’s face as she knelt by her aunt’s bedside.

The scene shifted again.

Nan Qiao was suddenly in a world of white, where she saw a younger version of her aunt.

But this time, her aunt seemed to see her too.

“Qiaoqiao? Are you really Qiaoqiao?” her aunt asked in disbelief.

“Auntie, it’s me,” Nan Qiao choked out.

“My Qiaoqiao, my dear Qiaoqiao… I searched for you for so long but could never find you,” her aunt cried as she hugged Nan Qiao tightly.

“Auntie, I left you a letter. It was real!”

“The letter? The one about your dream? So it was true…”

“Qiaoqiao, are you doing well?”

“Yes. The parents here look exactly like my real parents… maybe this was destiny all along.”

But before Nan Qiao could say much more, her aunt interrupted gently.

“Qiaoqiao, it’s time for me to go. Now that I know you’re safe, I can rest easy.”

“Auntie—!”

As soon as she said those words, her aunt began to fade away.

Nan Qiao, devastated, reached out to grab her—but some things were simply beyond human control.

Even so, the smile on her aunt’s face, lying peacefully on the hospital bed, brought Nan Qiao a strange sense of comfort.

Everyone must face death eventually.

Her aunt had lived a kind and good life. Surely she was now in a beautiful place.