Song Mianmian had no intention of revealing her background to the two middle-aged women working at the Educated Youth Office.
She simply stated that she had responded to the call and volunteered to go to the countryside to receive re-education from poor and lower-middle peasants.
Such a delicate pretty young girl volunteering to go to the countryside on her own?
With such high ideological awareness?
The staff grew even warmer toward her and quickly helped her complete all the necessary formalities.
They also told her voluntarily that around noon the next day they would come to her home to deliver a certificate of merit and a two-hundred-yuan resettlement allowance. At the same time they would inform her of the specific location where she would be sent so she could prepare her luggage accordingly.
With a personal space at her disposal Song Mianmian did not care what kind of climate awaited her. Warm or cold it made no difference to her.
She replied in a compliant agreeable manner then left the office with a bright smile and headed straight for the guesthouse. She planned to stay there until she left for the countryside.
On the way Song Mianmian did not forget to eat.
Strawberries cherries the sorts of things rarely seen in these times were best kept hidden but chicken legs were perfectly fine.
True she had gone so long without rich food that her stomach could not handle anything too greasy. Yet experts in her previous life had said that as long as you removed the skin chicken meat was low in calories and fat.
She unwrapped a marinated chicken leg prepared exactly that way and wrapped in oiled paper and took a bite. It was delicious. Song Mianmian sighed with pure satisfaction.
She walked along eating taking in the unique sights and atmosphere of this era and chattering away to Little Duobao in her space doing four things at once. So it was that when she reached the guesthouse entrance she forgot she was no longer a ghost. She lifted her foot too low caught it on the worn paint-flaked wooden threshold and stumbled.
Just then a tall slender young man in military uniform stepped out from inside.
Ouch. She bumped squarely into his chest.
Song Mianmian’s first thought was for her chicken leg. Even as she fell she instinctively shielded it losing her balance completely.
But the man she had run into stood firm and moved with remarkable agility. He took a half-step back caught her firmly by the arms to steady her then immediately stepped back three paces keeping a respectful safe distance.
Relieved that her chicken leg was unharmed Song Mianmian thought this stranger was truly a good man. He had not blamed her had helped her up and had shown such proper restraint. She simply had to thank him.
She looked up smiling warmly to offer her thanks and get a good look at him. He appeared to be in his early twenties dressed in a grass-green uniform faded to near-white at the cuffs and seams yet spotlessly neat.
That was her first impression but almost immediately a flicker of doubt rose in her. She narrowed her eyes and studied his clear honest gaze for several seconds before speaking.
Comrade have we met before?
He looked strangely familiar surely she knew him yet she could not place him. With such distinctive features she would certainly remember if she had seen him. Why could she not find him in her memory?
The young man blinked then gave a faint gentle smile. This is my first time in the capital. If you have never been to Black River Province I do not believe our paths would have crossed.
He spoke perfect standard Mandarin his voice clear and warm as pleasing as jade striking jade. It was a voice anyone would remember yet it was not one she recalled.
Had she been mistaken?
While she stood wondering he gave a slight nod turned and walked briskly away. His figure vanished around a corner moments later.
It was then that Song Mianmian finally realized who he was.
Fu Chen.
Son of Yu Hongying her late-life best friend from when she was a ghost the poor boy who had been switched at birth.
Since her rebirth she had been so caught up in her own affairs that she had completely forgotten. And with good reason in this timeline Fu Chen had already been dead for more than forty years.
Yu Hongying had learned the truth of the switch ten years from now discovering that her son had been swapped by her aunt-in-law and systematically abused dying tragically in a mountain cave at just twenty-one years old.
Yu Hongying had uncovered the secret while serving as head of internal medicine at the First City Hospital where she was introducing paternity testing technology from Shanghai. She had initially run tests only on herself and the son she had raised and the results had raised questions. Suspicions once awakened the favoritism shown toward the imposter by her in-laws and their eldest son and daughter-in-law suddenly made sense. Learning the truth had broken her heart and she had died of grief and rage. Her spirit unable to find rest had eventually befriended Song Mianmian.
Song Mianmian had never met Fu Chen in person she had only seen a single photograph of him in army uniform. The lighting in the photo had made him look pale which was why she had not recognized him just now.
Now that she did and remembering he would not live through the year she hurried after him. She had no plan but she knew she had to find him first.
She searched for more than two hours checked the train station and went to Yu Hongying’s home all in vain. She returned to the guesthouse and even pressed the staff for information offering two White Rabbit Creamy Candies as thanks.
They told her everything they knew his name was indeed Fu Chen a veteran from Yuanshan Town Black River Province. He had arrived the previous evening stayed one night and had just checked out. Where he was going next they did not know.
At first Song Mianmian panicked. Then Duobao told her that New Year’s Eve fell on February 10 1975. According to what she knew Fu Chen would die at the end of the twelfth lunar month. Today was November 6 1974. She had at least two months to prevent his fate. There was no need to panic.
Even so she decided to rise at five the next morning and wait outside Yu Hongying’s home.
Back in her room at the guesthouse she locked the doors and windows and began sorting through the hoard of gold silver and jewelry left behind by Du Qinghui preparing to upgrade her space. She set aside only the finest pieces gold and silver prices would soar in the decades to come after all. She selected the most valuable and beautiful items roughly one-tenth of the total leaving twenty-seven large chests behind.
Duobao beamed. Master just ten of these chests will upgrade the space expanding it from ten mu to one hundred mu. Every resource within will multiply tenfold. The next upgrade will multiply everything tenfold again to one thousand mu but the cost will rise too. You will need a hundred chests like these next time.
A hundred? Du Qinghui had spent a lifetime gathering barely thirty. How long would she have to wait? Song Mianmian could only shake her head. Yet soon enough she resolved to take things as they came.