Chapter 24

The original protagonist’s mother crawled forward, leaving a trail of blood, but the pain surged through her in waves, and she finally collapsed.

As Xu Nian looked on, she was powerless to intervene, merely watching the mother’s helpless sobbing grow quieter and weaker. Xu Nian’s heart seemed to stop, aching as though it was being torn apart thread by thread.

But Xu Aiguo, the husband who had shared a bed with the original mother for so long, was unmoved, as if frozen by some spell, standing still and watching with a cold detachment. Xu Nian realized: he intended to let the mother die.

As blood pooled around her, the life slowly drained from the mother’s body, yet her eyes remained open, fixed in eternal anguish. Xu Aiguo just stood there, watching her die, never making a move to help.

Afterward, he made sure to fabricate an alibi, weeping pitifully at the end of his shift, wailing as if he had lost his one true love. Colleagues and neighbors all tried to console him, believing he was heartbroken.

“My wife, my child—why did you have to leave me? Why didn’t you take me with you?” he cried, putting on an act worthy of sympathy.

Watching him perform this twisted play, Xu Nian wished the mother’s spirit would visit him in the dead of night, dragging him away to account for what he had done.

For seven days, Xu Aiguo didn’t eat, bathe, or change his clothes, convincing everyone that he was a man devastated by loss. No one would ever suspect that a man so ‘faithful’ could betray his wife so cruelly. And thus, the whole matter was brushed aside as just an unfortunate accident, dismissed like dandelion seeds scattered by the wind. Everyone assumed it was a tragic but routine case of postpartum hemorrhage.

Only the original protagonist’s grandfather returned from afar to find that his daughter was already gone, leaving his wife in tears, her hair white from grief, and their beloved grandson bereft of his only sibling. But they hadn’t even seen her one last time.

In the years that followed, the maternal grandfather’s family showered the original protagonist with affection, buying them gifts and doting on them, only for Xu Xiuhong to whisper poison in their ear until eventually, the protagonist became distant from their mother’s family.

When Xu Nian jolted awake from this dream, she found herself alone at home. She reached up to touch her pillow, damp with tears, clenching her fists as she processed the hidden story—likely something the author hadn’t dared to write. After all, it would have made the heroine’s journey too dark and tainted with the suffering of others.

The sheer ugliness of Xu Aiguo’s true nature disgusted her, striking a chord as someone who had once been betrayed herself. She even wondered if fate had sent her here to help the original mother get justice.

The memory of the good meal she had given Xu Aiguo at lunch filled her with anger—he could eat well over her dead body. Taking a deep breath, she steeled herself, determined to avenge the wrongs done without holding back.

Given the time period, it made no sense to pursue legal action; even if she reported it, there’d be no evidence to convict Xu Aiguo, as he hadn’t left any physical injuries. It was clear he’d avoid punishment.

After ensuring no one was home, she set her sights on the gold bars that Xu Aiguo had hidden. Since he had caused the original mother’s death, he had no right to her inheritance. Xu Nian found herself energized by a growing sense of purpose as she moved around his room, meticulously inspecting every possible hiding spot.

She knew the gold would be useful for supporting her grandfather’s family in the future, relieving her own family of dependency on Lu Huaijin, her fiancé.

After an exhaustive search, she noticed a child’s poster on the wall and peeled it back, revealing a finely carved wooden box hidden within the wall. Opening the box, she was momentarily dazzled by the sight of a row of gleaming golden bars—14 in total, each one radiating with wealth and potential. She moved them all into her personal space storage, planning to use them to secure her grandfather’s future.

As she started to replace the box, she noticed a property deed inside with the original mother’s name on it. She tossed it into her storage space as well—since it rightfully belonged to her mother.

After resetting everything, she eagerly returned to her own room. As she checked her storage, she saw that the fertile black soil had expanded, and a variety of seeds had appeared: rice, millet, cabbage, corn, grapes, pomegranates, lychee, oranges, tomatoes, peppers, and more. With just a thought, she planted several of them, watering them sparingly with the mystical spring water she had collected.

As she worked, her mind turned to the lone chicken she had seen in her space earlier—she resolved to buy it a companion. She knew the journey ahead was arduous, but with the tools at her disposal, she felt ready to face whatever awaited her.

She watered the rice and millet, curious to see how the seeds grown in her space would compare to those grown outside.

While sorting through the seeds, she discovered a few tea plants labeled “Pu-erh” and “Biluochun.” She decided to plant the Biluochun.

Glancing at the ginseng she had planted earlier, she noticed that both the young ginseng and the ginseng slices had begun to sprout little red berries.

Her eyes then fell on a bottle of Maotai liquor, and she thought of the bride price offered by Lu Huaijin’s family. She didn’t have anything valuable to give as a dowry, and she disliked owing anyone favors—just the thought of it made her uncomfortable.

Recalling a time when she worked in a distillery, where a master from Guangdong taught her about making medicinal infusions, she decided to turn the Maotai into a medicinal wine. She simply added a cup of the mystical spring water to it, then poured herself a drink, gulping it down in one go. She’d never tried Maotai in her past life, and frankly, it didn’t taste all that great to her. So strong!

Looking at the solitary hen in her space, Xu Nian decided to find her a mate soon. She still had to fulfill her promise to Aunt Wang to grow rice and wheat. Sitting on the ground, she used her mind to continuously harvest, plant, and water with the spring water.

As she worked, she began to feel dizzy—the alcohol was kicking in. She drifted off to sleep, exhausted from the day’s busy work, even dreaming of planting, watering, and harvesting on repeat.