Qian Chunhua lay on the bed, her heart racing with excitement. Her eyes followed the cracks between the green-tiled roof above, and she finally confirmed the unbelievable truth—she had really transmigrated.

It wasn’t the panic of an apocalypse, nor the despair of a natural disaster.

She had actually crossed over into an alternate world—the Min Dynasty.

Her heart surged with irrepressible joy.

At fifty-five years old, she had been reborn into the body of a twenty-eight-year-old woman, and that woman even had the exact same name as her.

This sudden gift of youth made her want to laugh out loud.

Nearly thirty extra years of life—it was a precious gift from the heavens.

She kicked her legs energetically under the covers, marveling at how flexible and strong her limbs now felt.

Her heart brimmed with anticipation for her new life.

Closing her eyes, Qian Chunhua quietly sensed the space around her.

Luckily, it was still there.

The jade bracelet that had been with her for years had now transformed into a unique mark, imprinted silently on her left wrist like a birthmark.

She was filled with confidence.

Inside that space was a stockpile of supplies—more than enough for her to live comfortably in this unfamiliar era.

…

She recalled the day six months ago when, after decades of work at a military hospital, she finally retired.

At fifty-five, she had just received her first pension—a milestone marking her long-dreamed-of financial and personal freedom.

Overjoyed, she made plans to travel with old colleagues and friends, to leave footprints across the beautiful landscape of her homeland.

But in her excitement, while chatting on the phone and slicing vegetables at the same time, she accidentally cut her finger.

Blood dripped onto her jade bracelet.

In that very moment, a wave of dizziness overtook her—and she discovered the space.

It was a storage space—she couldn’t enter it, nor could she grow anything in it.

But it was vast, as large as three basketball courts.

For Qian Chunhua, that was more than enough.

Having read countless novels over the years, she knew that such a space often signaled incoming apocalyptic disaster.

The joy of discovering the space was quickly overshadowed by anxiety and dread.

But after a night of brooding, she decided she couldn’t give up.

After all, compared to the rest of the world, she had a priceless, one-of-a-kind resource.

Drawing inspiration from apocalypse and disaster novels, Qian Chunhua meticulously compiled a list of survival items, based on what the protagonists in those stories would hoard.

Within just ten days, she swiftly sold off two apartments her parents had left her, raising about 5 million yuan in cash.

Combined with her personal savings of 2 million, she now had 7 million yuan at her disposal.

With this, she launched into a frenzy of organized buying—covering everything from basic necessities to all kinds of survival gear.

Within a month, she had filled her vast storage space to the brim.

Now, no matter if it was a natural disaster or an apocalypse, Qian Chunhua was fearless.

She believed that with the protection of her space, she could face any unknown challenge with ease.

But a sudden car accident changed everything.

She never imagined that the accident would send her into another world entirely.

…

“Hehehe… hahaha…” Qian Chunhua’s laughter was stifled in her chest.

If she weren’t afraid of raising suspicion, she might have burst out laughing.

Time travel—this was ten thousand times better than a disaster!

Not only had she received a young body, but she was also gifted with three adorable children.

Qian Chunhua, a woman who had been single her whole life, had once lived freely and unrestrained in her youth.

But after retirement, she often felt the sting of loneliness in her empty house, accompanied only by her own shadow.

She had never regretted not marrying, for she loved freedom and her single life.

Yet as she aged, she found herself increasingly drawn to children.

She loved their innocent smiles, their joyous laughter.

But she could only admire from afar.

Now, time travel had gifted her a whole new life.

She suddenly had three children—without going through the pain of childbirth—and they were biologically hers, of this body.

Qian Chunhua was full of joy and contentment, chuckling to herself uncontrollably.

She had inherited all the original owner’s memories and knew these children were the most precious treasures in her life.

Her eldest son, Zhao Qingyun, was only eight but had already been attending school for three years.

His teacher praised him as a prodigy who could soon take the entrance exam for scholars and earn fame.

So Zhao Qingyun was considered the jewel of the family.

The second child, Zhao Xiaoling, a six-year-old daughter, had already taken up the task of foraging pigweed for the family’s livestock.

She teamed up with her cousin Zhao Qingsong from the eldest branch to take care of the pigs, chickens, and ducks.

Even the youngest, Zhao Qingfeng, only three years old, helped out by following his sister and doing what he could.

Thinking of her three children, Qian Chunhua’s heart filled with an indescribable joy.

Although life in this era was hard, having these three kids made everything worth it.

In this dynasty, resources were scarce, and every household lived frugally.

The Zhao family had lived in Huang Hualing village for generations.

Though their land was poor, they were honest and hardworking. With a few mu of farmland and the second son Zhao Yongcai’s income from guarding merchant caravans, they managed to survive—and had even raised a scholar.

The Zhao patriarch, Zhao Daqing, and matriarch, Zhao Wang-shi, were both over fifty, having worked the fields all their lives with no other source of income.

The eldest son, Zhao Yongqiang, and his wife Li Cuihong, farmed and cared for the elders and children.

They had three children:

Zhao Qingshui, age twelve, already helping with farm work.

Zhao Qingsong, age eight, gathering pigweed with his cousins.

Zhao Xiaojun, age ten, kept at home by her mother to do needlework, so she wouldn’t get sunburnt and hurt her chances of marriage.

The second son, Zhao Yongcai, was the family’s main breadwinner, working as a bodyguard escort.

But two days ago, he was ambushed by bandits and killed while on duty.

The news struck the Zhao family like a bolt of lightning.

His wife, Qian Chunhua, fainted on the spot.

When she awoke—it was a new soul in her body.

Qian Chunhua was secretly relieved she didn’t have to face a strange man as her husband.

She already felt uneasy in this foreign world—she couldn’t imagine having to share a bed with a stranger.

The third son, Zhao Yongwen, was the family’s only scholar, having passed the county-level exams.

He married Sun Meiping, the daughter of a landlord, and they had a daughter named Zhao Xiaoyun.

Because Zhao Yongwen studied full-time, the couple lived in the county town, staying at Sun Meiping’s parents’ home.

The patriarch also had two married daughters, Zhao Taohua and Zhao Lihua, both married to men in nearby villages and rarely returned home.

Since the family hadn’t split up, most of the household income relied on Zhao Yongcai’s earnings. He made about a hundred taels of silver annually—a considerable income for the time.

After covering essentials, the rest was handed to the family’s communal pool.

According to Zhao family rules, 70% of each family’s income went to the shared account, and 30% could be kept for personal use.

Zhao Yongcai’s 30 taels a year were all used to send Zhao Qingyun to private school.

Now that Zhao Yongcai was gone, the family had lost a primary source of income and was plunged into grief and uncertainty…