Jiang Wanning stopped dwelling on that question. What she faced now were far more practical matters.
First, she was a woman, and in this world where women were far fewer than men, that meant she was naturally more “precious” than others. She could make use of this.
Second, her family needed her help. Food, medicine, shelter, safety, not a single one could be lacking.
Then what about the rest of the clan? There were over a hundred people in the clan. In her dreams, they had helped her greatly, and she could not abandon them.
Third, she needed money.
Her grandmother was her mother’s mother, while her father had married into the family. Both had passed away early, seemingly from illness.
There had been one son and one daughter. The son, Jiang Baizhou, was seventeen this year, and the daughter was the original owner, fifteen. It was said there had once been another son, but he had died young from sickness.
Her second aunt had married her second uncle-in-law, and they had a daughter named Jiang Wanxing, also seventeen, the older sister from her dreams, as well as a younger son named Jiang Baichuan, five years old.
Jiang Wanxing was six months older than Jiang Baizhou.
In the original owner’s memories, the family’s financial situation could be summed up in four words, utterly destitute.
A few acres of poor farmland produced grain that, after taxes, could barely sustain them for half a year. There were no livestock, no savings, and even salt had to be used sparingly.
The grandmother’s walking stick was polished smooth, not because it had been passed down through generations, but because they could not afford a new one.
She had food, salt, and valuables in her space, but she could not simply produce them out of thin air. That would arouse suspicion.
She needed a reason.
Something obtained in a dream? Dug up in the mountains? Given by someone else?
All of those excuses were too flimsy.
Jiang Wanning rubbed her temples, her head throbbing even more.
There was another issue that troubled her.
There were far more men than women in this world.
According to her grandmother’s words, “out of ten children, nine are boys,” the ratio was roughly one to nine, perhaps even more extreme. Yet her own family had two girls.
This meant that most men would never find a wife, nor be able to marry.
Tomorrow, she needed to clarify several things.
How much food did the household actually have, and how many days could it last?
What was the condition of the crops in the fields, and when would they be ready for harvest?
How many people remained in the clan, and how many were elderly, weak, or ill?
Were there any nearby markets, and how did people trade?
All of these questions needed answers.
But the most important issue was still the same.
How to explain everything.
Lying on the straw mat, Jiang Wanning turned over again and again, her head aching from overthinking.
The current situation was too tangled. She had to display her capabilities, otherwise the clan would not listen to her. Yet she could not reveal those capabilities out of nowhere, or she would invite suspicion.
She sat up, put on her shoes in the dark, and tiptoed to the door.
The wooden door did not close properly, and a sliver of moonlight slipped through the gap, casting a faint line on the ground.
She took a carved wooden stick from her space, wedged it diagonally between the door and the frame, then secured the base with a stone. She pushed it lightly. It did not budge. Only then did she feel at ease.
With a single thought, her entire body vanished from the dark hut.
There was no night here, no stars. Above her stretched an even, gentle white light, its source unknown.
The air was warm, neither hot nor cold, carrying a faint sweetness that could not quite be described.
Jiang Wanning walked into the glass house, kicked off her shoes, and threw herself onto the one-and-a-half-meter bed.
The sheets were soft cotton, and the pillow still carried the scent of laundry detergent from the last wash.
Back in her previous life, she had never found these things special, but now, lying here, she felt an inexplicable urge to cry.
Soft! Clean! Warm!
She wrapped herself tightly in the blanket, curling into a ball, and closed her eyes. Sleep came over her like a tide, and almost the moment she shut her eyes, she fell asleep.
She slept deeply, without dreams.
When she woke, she checked the time within the space. She had slept a full nine hours, yet less than one hour had passed outside.
Sitting up, she rubbed her face, then sat cross-legged on the bed and began to seriously consider the problem she could not avoid.
Strength! She needed strength to earn the clan’s trust.
When the disasters came, she needed everyone to follow her orders without hesitation, to go east when told, to go west when told, to run when told, to hide when told.
At the edge of life and death, even a moment’s hesitation could cost lives.
But right now, she was only a fifteen-year-old girl who had just “awakened.” Why would a group of adults listen to her?
In her dreams, the clan members had all been kind, doing their best to help and protect her.
Jiang Wanning bit her lip, her fingers unconsciously tracing circles on the blanket. After thinking for a long time, a sudden spark flashed through her mind.
Immortals! Yes, immortals.
This was not something she had to fabricate. Her arrival in this world was already mysterious, and that space was even more so.
With farmland, a spirit spring, and a difference in time flow, such things would undoubtedly be regarded as the work of immortals in any ancient setting.
So why not attribute everything to immortals?
Jiang Wanning straightened, her thoughts racing.
She could say this. She had not simply “awakened,” she had been chosen by immortals.
All those years of foolishness were not because she had been born that way, but because her soul had been taken by immortals to another place, where she had helped manage their domain.
Now that the immortals had foreseen danger befalling her family, and that great calamities were about to strike this land, they had returned her soul, tasking her with leading her clan through the coming disasters.
The advantages of this explanation were too great.
First, it explained her sudden “awakening.” It was not awakening, but the return of her soul. This was how she was meant to be all along.
Second, it explained the origin of her space. It was a gift from immortals. In the future, when she produced food, medicine, or tools seemingly out of nowhere, she could attribute it all to them. She could even try bringing her family into the space to work, since she could not handle everything alone.
Most importantly, she could warn of disasters in advance. If it came from immortals, who would dare doubt it?
The more she thought about it, the more feasible it seemed.
These relatives would never betray her. In her dreams, each of them had protected her.
This world already contained things like curses, with its skewed gender ratio and the ease of childbirth. Nothing about it was normal.
In such an abnormal world, the appearance of immortals did not seem so far-fetched.
Moreover, her grandmother’s words that afternoon, “my Wanwan has come back,” suggested that she already believed in the concept of a wandering soul.
Jiang Wanning was not inventing something from nothing. She was building upon a framework that already existed in her grandmother’s understanding, making it more concrete and believable.
She took a deep breath and slowly exhaled.
It was decided.
She rehearsed her explanation in her mind, removing modern terms and replacing them with expressions people of this era could understand.
She would not speak of “space” or “time flow,” but instead say that immortals had granted her a world within heaven and earth.
She would not mention “stockpiling supplies,” but say that the immortals had instructed her to prepare provisions to withstand disasters.
She would not speak of an “apocalyptic calamity,” but of heavenly punishment approaching, of the earth shaking, heavenly fire scorching the land, floods rising, and a hundred days of extreme cold.
All of these had appeared in her dreams. She was simply expressing them in another way.
Jiang Wanning stepped down from the bed and stood in the center of the glass house, looking out at the vast white space beyond.
Piles of grain like small hills, neatly stacked bags of salt, solar panels leaning against the wall, piglets sleeping in their enclosure, chickens wandering across the grass.
Very soon, all of these could appear before her clan openly and without suspicion.
And there would finally be people to tend the land.
She would no longer need to act in secret.