Zhu Yufang sighed with envy: “Some people have it easy—just stay home, buy some vegetables, cook a bit, and take care of their husband.”
“I? I’m up at dawn and work till dusk—endless chores,” came the reply.
Zhao Jingquan chimed in, “Now you envy her? Didn’t you say her husband is over fifty, and she’s just in her early thirties?”
Zhu Yufang glanced at him. “What do you know? An older husband and younger wife are perfect—when the man’s older, he knows how to care for someone!”
“Hmph, what’s so good about an old man?”
The couple bickered, and only then did Zhu notice Lu Minggui still standing nearby.
“Eh, old lady, why haven’t you left yet?”
“Lost your way again?”
Lu Minggui had questions, so she braved staying. Clutching the money tightly, she asked, “You said Chinese toon sprouts go for fifty yuan per jin? And purslane is twenty-five?”
“Why are these wild vegetables so expensive?”
Zhu Yufang laughed, her red lips curling: “Old lady, that’s nothing new! If wild vegetables weren’t valuable, would your small basket of daylilies sell for a hundred yuan?”
“Look at these regular greens—one hundred yuan could buy a huge basket!”
“Nowadays, wild vegetables are even pricier than meat!”
Though she didn’t answer directly, Lu Minggui understood: wild vegetables were valuable—more than ordinary greens, even more than meat.
Zhu Yufang’s eyes gleamed. “Old lady, if you have more daylilies at home, bring them over and sell them to me.”
Lu Minggui thought of the ones in her fields. Not much remained, but even one jin could fetch twenty yuan!
She hesitated, worried: could she even come back to this place? Or would she be stuck here forever?
Unsure, she only murmured a vague “Mm” and hurried away.
Zhu Yufang, frustrated, muttered: “Old lady, if you’re not selling, just say so. Why run off before we finish talking?”
Zhao Jingquan, nearby, kept his head down, afraid of laughing.
“Alright, if you’re not selling, fine. But don’t you want to earn money? Such a blockhead!”
The couple bantered as Lu Minggui retraced her steps.
With a hundred yuan in hand, she decided to repay the young man first—she couldn’t leave without settling her debt.
But as she walked, she found herself lost.
The market was vast—vegetable stalls, fish, meat, prepared foods, hotpot ingredients, fruits, grains and oils, noodles, dumpling wrappers… so many shops that it made her dizzy.
She had followed Dong Wanhui, turned a couple of corners, and yet couldn’t find the stall.
The young man might think she was a scammer!
Panicking, she touched her hair—and felt the wooden hairpin. The next second, a white flash enveloped her.
She was back in the white room.
The bustling market outside went on as usual; no one noticed her vanish.
“Yikes… how am I back here?” Lu Minggui exclaimed.
Her mind raced. She hadn’t intended anything, hadn’t even thought of anything in particular…
Could it be—the hairpin on her head?
After her resurrection, this wooden hairpin had been the strangest thing.
A simple heirloom from her mother, it had once been plain wood, but after her death and return to life, it had turned a deep red, purplish-black, shiny black.
Could touching it have caused all this? Was it truly a treasure?
But why hadn’t it shown any power all these years? Only after she had died and returned did it awaken?
Lu Minggui couldn’t figure it out. She decided to put that aside for now—the immediate task was to leave the white room.
She walked in a direction and soon saw a door.
Without hesitation, she pushed it. Another flash of white light—and she was back by the edge of the field.
Morning dew glistened on the daylilies. Surrounding her were lush green fields.
She had made it out!