“Second Brother, Second Brother, hurry back, no one’s here to be the horse keeper. We’re waiting for you to take over the job!”
“Yeah, Second Brother, I’m your sister-in-law, I miss you so much. Even though I can’t write the character ‘donkey,’ I still love you!”

In the middle of a hot summer noon, when the sun was so fierce that it made one’s scalp burn, two mischievous young boys took turns reading a letter aloud in mock excitement.

“What’s this? Seven years after getting married, Su Xiangwan still can’t let go of her feelings for Song Er (Second Brother). What does she think she’s doing?”

Someone passing by the Song family’s house heard the two boys reciting the letter and laughed along.

The biggest gossip in the Song village was that the eldest daughter-in-law of the Song family, who was married to the eldest son, didn’t love her husband, Song Laoda (Oldest Brother), but instead had feelings for his younger brother, Song Er.

This rumor had been circulating for five or six years, even surviving the death of Old Song.

The story still remained lively, and this was the first time someone heard that the eldest daughter-in-law had openly written a love letter to the younger brother.

“Mother, mother, I found out, Mom hung herself!”

At that moment, a small, round-headed child shouted from the Song family’s courtyard.

Soon after, a voice from inside the house yelled, “Su Xiangwan, you shameless woman! If you’re going to die, just die already. I just wish I could stab you myself.”

“Mom, even if our sister-in-law causes a scene, at least she gave birth to three kids for my brother.”

“Just because she had kids does she have a reason? Huh? She married Old Song, but instead of behaving like a proper widow after he died, she writes love letters to my second son, who is in the military. Everyone in Song village knows what’s in her heart. She’s completely shameless.”

Old Mrs. Song didn’t care: “Let her die already. If she does, I won’t even give her a coffin.”

---

Su Xiangwan felt a tightness in her throat as her neck seemed ready to snap.

Struggling to reach for a chair, she felt like she was about to be choked to death.

Opening her eyes, she saw the dusty beams of the room and spider webs, with the rope tightly tied around her neck, her feet hanging in mid-air.

Desperately, she tried to find something to stand on, to escape the rope that was suffocating her.

“Don’t help someone who’s hanging themselves. You need to cut the rope,” someone said.

“Right, right, use the sickle to cut it. Oh, finally down. What a poor soul, that’s a life gone.”

When the rope snapped, Su Xiangwan fell heavily to the ground, gasping for air.

“Mom, are you okay?” A little hand like a bear paw waved in front of her face, with a child’s voice asking.

“Quick, help her to the bed. Let her lie down. She’s pitiful, working all day and still has a baby to take care of.”

So, they helped her up to the bed.

Memories flooded her mind, and Su Xiangwan quickly realized she had time traveled into a book.

Why?

Because the book was written by her cousin, Su Xiaonan.

In the Original Book, to earn money, she dressed herself beautifully and, after her husband’s death, spent her days hanging around her brother-in-law, hoping to catch his attention.

She had three children in total, but secretly sold two of them. When her family asked, she would just say that she had taken the children to the market, and they had been abducted by traffickers.

She was vain and never learned from her mistakes.

Her eldest son, the male lead of the book, went through great hardship to find his younger brother and sister, and together with their father—who was thought to be dead but suddenly returned—raised them up.

Just when their family was about to live peacefully, Su Xiangwan started causing trouble again.

One day, as Su Xiangwan was reading the last chapter, she discovered that “Su Xiangwan” was causing trouble again in the story.

She was so frustrated that she almost threw her phone, when she noticed the author had written a note at the bottom, saying:

“Dear little angels, my cousin’s name is Su Xiangwan. To be honest, this character is based on her. She’s vain and unscrupulous, yet always manages to come out on top. What should I do about this?”

At this moment, Su Xiangwan realized something was wrong.

She had always known that her cousin, Su Xiaonan, wrote novels on Jinjiang Literature City, but she didn’t know her specific pen name.

But how many female authors on Jinjiang Literature City would use the name Su Xiangwan?

Immediately, Su Xiangwan called Su Xiaonan to ask if she was the author of that book.

To her surprise, Su Xiaonan laughed coldly on the phone and said, “Sister, what, do you think I wrote you into the story? Looks like I nailed the character. So, tell me, do you want me to torture her?”

Su Xiangwan exploded, “Su Xiaonan, I’m a single woman, I didn’t steal your man or eat your rice. Why are you slandering me as a child-seller and a wicked mother-in-law?”

“Nothing, I just hate you. You’re so perfect, always scoring better than me on exams, doing better in your career, and you’re prettier than me,” Su Xiaonan said, pressing down on the phone.

Su Xiangwan was about to rush to Su Xiaonan’s house to get some answers, but before she could, everything went black, and she found herself transported into the book.

Su Xiangwan gasped for air.

At no other moment had she ever felt the air so sweet.

Now that she was in this new world, following the rules of Jinjiang, she knew she would never return.

The first thing she thought of was how to live in this strange world.

“Mom, eat this pear, I secretly picked it from the pear tree.”

The little one, with hands as dirty as a bear’s paws, came over holding a pear, offering it to Su Xiangwan.

Before she traveled, Su Xiangwan had always been single, had a good job, and had a mild obsession with cleanliness.

She hadn’t planned on having children, but she liked them.

At least once a year, she would volunteer at an orphanage to care for homeless children.

So, even though the little one’s paws were as grimy as a bear’s, she didn’t mind.

She took the pear and said, “Good, Mom is fine. Go wash the pear, then I’ll eat it, okay?”

Since her father’s death, Gou Dan (the child) had been getting beaten by his mother for two years. He hadn’t heard her speak so gently in a long time.

He immediately responded with an “okay” and hurried to wash the pear.

Su Xiangwan calmly organized her thoughts, trying to recall the original owner’s experiences.

She realized that the original character hadn’t made any huge mistakes before her time travel.

For instance, even though the original had some interactions with her brother-in-law, it was simply because they were classmates and of the same age, so she felt some admiration for him.

She hadn’t yet reached the point of shamelessly pursuing him.

“Those who are hateful must also be pitiful,” as the old saying goes, was truly accurate.

For example, when she wrote the letter to Song Er (the second brother), it was because there were two donkeys in the family, and she had to feed them alone from dawn till dusk.

Her mother-in-law was unfriendly, and the work at the production team was exhausting.

She had been struggling, and since her husband was already dead, she wrote to her brother-in-law, asking him to speak to her mother-in-law and reduce her chores, or at least take over the donkey-feeding duties.

But since her writing skills were limited, the letter was poorly written and never even sent out.

However, the children got their hands on it, tore it up, and spread it around, and soon the whole village knew about it.

According to the original plot, once the letter was spread, it became the village’s biggest joke. Su Xiangwan’s character would then change drastically, losing all sense of shame.

“Old Song has been dead for almost two years, and this shameless woman should just leave. Get out, get far away,” Old Mrs. Song was wailing and crying loudly in the living room.

Su Xiangwan, watching her child stumbling toward her with a pear in hand, suddenly realized—

Before she thought about anything else, she was probably going to have a big argument.

Sure enough, from a distance, a sharp scream echoed, loud enough for the entire Song village to hear: “My pear! Someone stole my pear! I’m going to kill them! Kill them!”

It seemed exaggerated to shout about a pear like this, but in this era, it was quite serious.

It was 1967.

Since 1956, the People’s Republic of China had implemented a collective agricultural land system.

Farmers voluntarily became members of a collective, working together and receiving shared rewards.

However, each family still had a small piece of private land to grow vegetables and fruits, in case the collective’s rations weren’t enough.

To increase production, all the mountains were turned into fields, and all the fruit trees in the commune were cut down.

But the Song family’s private land still had a pear tree, and the sweet, delicious early pears on it were highly sought after in this scorching heat.

However, Old Mrs. Song forbade anyone from eating even one of them.