Resigned to his fate, he quickly assessed the situation. He wasn’t stupid—there was no way he’d just randomly wake up in the middle of nowhere.  

He touched the back of his head again, confirming the pain came from this body, not some post-death side effect.  

Being sharp-minded, Jiang Le soon pieced together the truth—and matched it to a specific plot point from the novel.  

In the original story, “Jiang Le” was such a minor character that even though they shared the same name, he hadn’t paid much attention.  

But his memory was excellent. He vaguely recalled a scene where “Jiang Le” was caught stealing, nearly sent to labor reform, and his family had to sacrifice greatly to cover it up.  

At the time, he hadn’t thought much of it. But now?  

This “theft” situation was definitely a setup.

No way am I walking into that trap.

Following the original Jiang Le’s memories, he skirted around the back of the village, sneaking home unnoticed.  

Luckily, the Jiang family lived on the outskirts, near a narrow alley. Hiding in the shadows, he slipped inside without being spotted.  

Before he could even take a proper look at his new “home,” a quiet voice made him jump.  

“Jiang Le… what are you doing?”

He spun around.  

A gaunt girl stood nearby, her sallow face and sunken eyes making her look almost ghostly. Her oversized pupils fixed on him, unblinking.  

Memories clicked.  

This was Jiang Huan—his “older sister” in this world, just one year his senior.  

Jiang Le thought of his sixteen-year-old classmates in his past life: tall, bright-eyed, cheeks full of youth.  

But Jiang Huan? Skinny as a twig, malnourished. At a glance, she could pass for ten. Her height—around 160 cm—only made her look more skeletal.  

According to the original Jiang Le’s memories, he’d disliked her, calling her greedy, petty, and unwilling to share food with him—unlike his other siblings, who always gave in to him.  

But present-day Jiang Le wasn’t swayed by those biased recollections.  

She’s literally skin and bones. How shameless was the original Jiang Le, fighting her for scraps?!

“Sister, I wasn’t doing anything,” he mumbled, cheeks burning slightly. At nineteen, calling this tiny girl “sis” felt awkward.  

Jiang Huan’s eyes widened like she’d seen a ghost. Then, as if struck by a thought, she threw down the water bucket she’d been holding.  

Despite her frail frame, her first instinct was protective fury.  

“Jiang Le, who bullied you?! Point them out—I’ll beat them to dead! Do they even know who they’re messing with?!”

Jiang Huan’s actions might have looked comical, but Jiang Le couldn’t bring himself to laugh. Instead, he felt his nose sting with unshed tears—it had been so long since anyone stood up for him like this.

Tears welled up in his eyes, which only made Jiang Huan’s expression grow even more horrified. She promptly smacked him on the head. “What are you crying for, you big baby?! I stopped crying over scraped knees when I was five!”

Despite her scrawny frame, her slap packed a surprising amount of force. The impact sent Jiang Le’s tears spilling over—this time from sheer pain.  

Dear sister, my head is already injured!

Jiang Huan guiltily retracted her hand, studying him with suspicion. Was this really her annoying little brother? He looked… weirdly pitiful right now.  

Convinced something serious must have happened, she immediately charged back into the house, bellowing at the top of her lungs: “Dad! Mom! Granny! Second Brother! The brat got bullied—he’s out here bawling his eyes out!”

Jiang Le: “…” I was silently weeping!

The previously quiet courtyard instantly erupted into chaos. The entire family, including slow-moving Grandma Jiang, swarmed around him, firing questions and concerns at him from all directions.  

Jiang Le only cried harder—especially when his second brother, in a well-meaning but disastrous move, clapped a calloused hand right onto his injured skull.  

Ouch. OW. DEAR HEAVENS, THAT HURTS!

Their love was physically painful.  

…

Meanwhile, back at the spot where Jiang Le had first woken up, a crowd had gathered.  

“Xu Zhiqing, you swear you saw that little bastard Jiang Le stealing my eggs?!” A sharp-tongued woman—Auntie Sun—planted her hands on her hips, glaring at the skinny young man beside her.  

Xu Youcai (the “Xu Zhiqing” in question) frowned, scanning the empty patch of land. Where the hell did Jiang Le go?

(Zhiqing= Educated Youth)

Something had gone wrong. This wasn’t part of the plan.  

But he’d already rushed off to fetch Auntie Sun, and backtracking now would only make him look suspicious. Besides… he wanted to teach that little punk a lesson.  

How dare Jiang Le harass Banxue?!  

Clenching his fists, Xu Youcai put on his most earnest expression. “I saw it with my own eyes! I ran to get you so we could catch him red-handed—who knew he’d bolt like that?”

He gestured dramatically at the shattered eggs scattered across the dirt. “Look at this mess! That good-for-nothing Jiang Le probably panicked when he realized I spotted him and dropped them! Auntie Sun, you have to report this to the village head—if we don’t hold him accountable, who’s going to compensate you for these eggs?!”  

The broken eggs lay in the bamboo basket, their yolks seeping into the soil—a heartbreaking waste in these lean times.