It seems the original owner of this body was treated well by her family, Bai Qianqian mused, surveying the dowry.
With ten taels of silver tucked away, she planned to use the money to establish herself here. She would return to her old profession—after all, she had been a pastry chef before coming to this world.
This was her only viable path forward.
After hiding the silver close to her body, Bai Qianqian shifted on the wooden bed.
The planks creaked under her weight. Once I make some money, I’m definitely getting a sturdy, large bed, she vowed.
After a sleepless night, Bai Qianqian awoke to find the Zhao family already out in the fields harvesting grain.
She took a turn around their kitchen, only to find all the food locked away—guarded as if she were a common thief.
Her stomach growled fiercely. Just as she turned around, she spotted Zhao Anyao returning with a load of pigweed on his back.
Seeing Bai Qianqian staring at him, the boy froze in terror, allowing her to inspect him.
She recognized the scrawny, filth-covered child as her stepson. A wave of discomfort washed over her.
“Where did you sleep last night?”
“Next to… the pigpen…” Zhao Anyao replied, his fists clenched in anxiety.
Bai Qianqian glanced toward the filthy pigpen. A crude little nest had been constructed beside it, lined with a few handfuls of dry straw.
Her chest tightened with a wave of suffocating distress. Though she wasn’t the one who had bullied the child, the original owner of her body had clearly been monstrous—stealing his food, treating a five-year-old boy like a slave, and pinching his arms whenever she was displeased.
Seeing the child’s filth-streaked face, his eyes wide with a mixture of terror and resistance, Bai Qianqian’s conscience stung. She looked away and shifted her attention to the jujube tree standing by the Zhao family’s entrance.
She’d noticed it yesterday: almost every household in the village had a jujube tree by their door. After harvesting the grain, they would take the fruit to town to sell.
Bai Qianqian found a long bamboo pole. She knocked it against the tree, and a few dates trickled down. After several more strikes, she set the pole aside and began gathering the fallen fruit.
Once she had a full pouch, she sat beneath the tree and started to eat.
Zhao Anyao had just finished feeding the pigs when he stumbled upon the scene.
His heart raced with anxiety on Bai Qianqian’s behalf. The Zhao family guarded that tree like a treasure, never allowing them to pick the fruit—only to gather what had already fallen. The rest were always harvested to be sold in town.
“What? You want some?” Bai Qianqian asked, unaware of his internal conflict. She offered him a handful of dates, her tone as gentle as she could manage.
Gurgle—
Before Zhao Anyao could refuse, his stomach betrayed him with a loud, echoing growl.
“Eat if you’re hungry. What are you so afraid of?”
“I can’t,” Zhao Anyao whispered urgently. “Grandma won’t let us pick them…”
“There are so many on the tree, no one will know if we eat a few,” Bai Qianqian said, pressing several dates into his hand before scooping up the pits and heading back to her room.
Zhao Anyao stared at the fruit in his palm as if it were a hot potato. He was convinced she’d only given them to him so he would take the blame. He was so frightened he nearly burst into tears—how could he dare eat anything she gave him?
Bai Qianqian paid his turmoil no mind. With her stomach barely full, she shouldered her woven basket, grabbed a wood-cutting knife, and set off for town.
But by the time she reached the village entrance, despair set in. The body was a massive burden. She had only been walking for a short while, yet her back was already soaked with sweat.
It would take at least an hour to reach town. When would she ever arrive?
Maybe I can borrow an ox cart, she thought, then immediately dismissed the idea. Everyone would be using them to transport grain from the fields right now, and besides, no one in the village would ever lend her one.
She could only steel herself and keep walking.
Hah! Just think of it as weight loss, she sighed. She stopped and started a dozen times along the way, turning a one-hour journey into two.
If she was to ever truly break free from the Zhao family, she needed her own kitchen. This time, she planned to buy an iron pot and some grain to take back.
The town wasn’t very crowded, its streets a network of muddy, potholed paths lined with food stalls. Thinking of Zhao Anyao, Bai Qianqian bought a few meat buns and set them aside.
“Boss, how much for the white flour?”
“Fifteen wen per jin. How much do you need?”
“I’ll take thirty jin for now, and ten jin of each of these coarse grains.” Bai Qianqian examined the white flour; the quality was indeed excellent.
“Right away! I’ll pack it up for you!”
She stared at the packed grain, a frown creasing her brow. She’d bought too much—how was she supposed to carry it all back?
“Ma’am,” the shop assistant called out, “if you spend two taels of silver, we can deliver it right to your door for just eight wen. Perhaps…”
I can store this grain for later, Bai Qianqian thought. It’s convenient.
She decided to buy another thirty jin of white flour and ten jin of maltose syrup.
“And twenty jin of dried dates. That should be enough to reach two taels, right?”
“More than enough!” The assistant beamed, delighted to have such a generous customer. He quickly packed her purchases.
“I have other things to buy. I’ll come back and hitch a ride on your ox cart.”
Bai Qianqian bought an iron pot, a steamer, and various household sundries, spending another three taels and five hundred wen. By the time she finished, her wealth had been cut in half.
The ox cart was piled high with her purchases as Bai Qianqian hitched a ride back. She arrived at the Zhao family home in under an hour.
The family was still working in the fields, and Bai Qianqian, wanting to avoid any trouble, quickly moved all her things inside.
The earthen house was surprisingly spacious. Zhao Chengwu, her husband, had rebuilt it when they first married. However, the original Bai Qianqian had been a hoarder, always bringing home useless trinkets and cluttering the rooms.
As she cleaned, Bai Qianqian found a small wooden bed that belonged to Zhao Anyao. After clearing out the junk and tidying up, she went to the kitchen to boil water.
She couldn’t stand the feeling of being covered in sweat and grime, and Zhao Anyao needed a thorough scrubbing before he could even think about sleeping in the house.
Being so overweight, bathing was a major ordeal that took her nearly an hour. The struggle only strengthened her resolve to lose weight.
“Zhao Anyao, come here once you’ve finished feeding the pigs!” Bai Qianqian called out, rolling up her sleeves and bringing a basin of water outside.
The boy hesitated, his movements sluggish as he tried to slip away.
Bai Qianqian had little patience for children. She grabbed him, hauled him over, and stripped off his filthy, unrecognizable clothes in a few quick motions.
Without his clothes, Zhao Anyao looked like a bean sprout—all skin and bones.
Washing the boy’s matted hair alone drained two whole basins of water. His body took another three, completely emptying the pot she’d boiled.
The effort paid off, though. With the grime gone, his round eyes sparkled, and he actually looked a bit cute. But after washing his clothes, Bai Qianqian realized she had no other options—she’d searched the entire house and found nothing else for him to wear. He had no choice but to stay in the room bare-bottomed.
Zhao Anyao sat there, dazed, clutching a large meat bun. He couldn’t wrap his head around any of this. This version of Bai Qianqian was a complete stranger to him. She’d washed his hair, scrubbed him clean, and even given him a meat bun.
It all felt like a dream.