Icy river water, thick with silt, rammed straight into her nose and mouth. Vivienne Ashford thrashed so hard her fingertips split against nothing. The last thing in her head was: My 1.3 billion from selling that courtyard house—I haven’t even spent a cent of it!
“Cough—cough, cough!”
She choked out a mouthful of freezing water and snapped her eyes open.
What she saw was a mud-brick wall smoked black with soot. Under her was a hard earthen kang. The coarse quilt over her had three or four patches on it, and the air smelled of mildew mixed with the faint sweetness of dried sweet potatoes.
From the outer room came sharp, ringing voices fighting loud enough to make the window paper buzz.
“So what if I dug out half a handful of white flour to make her a bowl of paste? She just got dragged back from death’s door, scared half out of her wits. What’s wrong with giving her something to build her up?”
“Build her up, build her up—you’re always saying that! We’re counting every last grain at the bottom of the jar, and you still want to trade coarse grain with the team for white flour? You think these days can keep going like this?”
Vivienne braced a hand on the edge of the kang and pushed herself upright, her head still spinning. Then a flood of strange memories rushed in like a tide—1972, Huanghuaihua Brigade. She’d transmigrated into a book, the period wish-fulfillment novel she’d skimmed a few days ago, and landed in the body of the vicious supporting girl with the exact same name: Song Tang.
The original Song Tang had fallen hard for Sebastian Lennox, the male lead who’d come to the countryside. Every day she picked on Isabelle Mercer, the heroine. Today, while the two were shoving and grabbing by the riverbank, they both fell in.
The male lead had jumped in and saved Isabelle Mercer. The original owner had been hauled out by a passing soldier. By the time they carried her home, she was already dead—and that was when Vivienne took over.
In the book, the whole Song family doted on their daughter like mad. They followed her all the way down the road to ruin, and in the end the male and female leads joined hands and crushed them, leaving the family broken and destroyed.
Luckily, the plot had only just reached the first clash. Things had not yet gotten beyond saving.
“Say less, will you?” Douglas Ashford’s voice followed, soft and helpless, trying to smooth things over. “Tangtang just suffered a scare. She’s weak.”
“Weak, weak, weak! Like she’s the only precious one?” Alyssa Dalton’s voice turned even sharper, with tears she couldn’t hold back. “When I was carrying Big Fatty, I didn’t even get a sip of thin corn mush! The whole family’s down to three jin of sorghum flour now, and you want to swap it for white flour. What’re we all supposed to do for the next few days, drink the northwest wind? Ma, you can’t be this unfair!”
“So what if I am?” Margaret Ashford shot back, voice rising. “This house still isn’t yours to point fingers in, not as a daughter-in-law! If Douglas hadn’t pitied you and married you, your stepmother would’ve sold you over the mountain to some lame old widower by now! Black-hearted thing—you’d like nothing better than to see my daughter starve, wouldn’t you?”
“Mom, sister-in-law, stop arguing.”
Vivienne lifted the curtain and walked out.
She was still wearing that damp blue cotton jacket. Water dripped from the ends of her hair, and her face was pale, stripped of the spoiled, overbearing look she usually wore.
Margaret Ashford hurried up at once and reached for her forehead. “Why’d you come out? Get back in bed and lie down. I’m going right now to trade with Auntie Donovan for half a ladle of white flour. I’ll roll you a bowl of hot noodles so you can sweat this out.”
“I’m not eating white flour.” Vivienne shook her head.
She glanced toward the kitchen. The clay stove was stained and rust-marked. In the corner the grain jar stood open, and one look showed the bottom plain as day—just a thin layer of sorghum left. The salt jar and oil jar were scraped empty. Beside them, in a basket, lay two limp bundles of wild greens, more than half the leaves already yellow.
Her heart tightened.
Fine, forget the 1.3 billion she never got to spend—but why did she have to transmigrate into a hell-level opening too? Dirt poor, and with the blame for “pushing someone into the river” already hanging over her head.
Alyssa Dalton had been holding in a bellyful of anger, but seeing Vivienne’s pale face and how she could barely stand, her lips moved, and she swallowed the harsh words that had reached the tip of her tongue. She turned her face away and wiped her eyes. “It’s not that I won’t let you eat. It’s just that the family really…”
“I know,” Vivienne cut in. Her voice was still hoarse, but calm. “Keeping the household going matters. We need to save where we can. I’m fine. I don’t need building up.”
Margaret Ashford’s eyes filled at once. She clutched Vivienne’s hand and muttered through her tears, “How’d my Tangtang suddenly get so sensible... It’s all because your ma’s useless, making you suffer like this.”
Douglas Ashford stood to one side sighing along with her.
Just then, the courtyard gate was kicked open with a bang.
Vincent Lawson, the brigade leader, strode in with a dark face. His gaze swept the room, then landed on Vivienne, disgust plain as day in his eyes. “Margaret Ashford, your daughter shoved Educated Youth Mercer into the river. The educated youths won’t let it go—they want to report it to the commune. The team’s decision is this: pay them five yuan and three eggs, and we’ll settle it privately.”
“On what grounds?” Margaret Ashford exploded on the spot, stepping forward. “My daughter fell in too! Why should we be the ones paying? Who saw our Tangtang push her? That’s slander!”
“On what grounds?” Captain Lawson’s face sank, his tone turning heavy. “Because several commune members coming back from the fields saw it with their own eyes—your Song Tang was chasing her, cursing at her, grabbing at her, and that’s how they ended up in the water! Educated Youth Mercer is an educated youth sent down from the city. If something happens to her in our brigade, the commune will hold us responsible! When that time comes, if the brigade can’t make advanced status, the whole brigade’s work points will be affected. Can your Song family take that responsibility? Hand over the money and the eggs to the team office within three days. Otherwise don’t blame me for handling it by the rules!”
With that, he flung his sleeve and left. At the doorway he even shot Vivienne one more glare, his whole face saying useless mud that won’t stick to the wall.
The room fell silent in an instant.
Alyssa Dalton swayed, her vision going black, and slid down the doorframe to the floor.
“Lanzhi! You alright?” Douglas Ashford bent in a rush to help her up.
Margaret Ashford panicked too, her mouth repeating over and over, “Five yuan... where are we supposed to get five yuan...”
Vivienne stood where she was, her head buzzing.
Five yuan. Three eggs.
For a house this poor, where even the next meal wasn’t certain, where were they supposed to scrape that kind of money together?
This cannon-fodder opening was just brutal.
Right when she was at a total loss, a crisp electronic voice suddenly rang out in her mind:
“Ding-dong. The Myriad Worlds Shopping System is at your service!”
