Su Mian and the two kids gave the house a thorough cleaning, sweeping and scrubbing every single corner, inside and out.
It was a tiny, dilapidated shack of barely thirty square meters, yet it took Su Mian nearly three full hours to clean it completely. When she finally finished, she collapsed onto a wooden stool and grabbed a palm-leaf fan from the side to cool herself down.
It was stiflingly hot, and her excessive weight only made things worse; she was panting heavily. Looking at the layers of fat clinging to her body, she couldn’t help but wonder how that spirit who stole her life had managed to pack on so much weight.
That cold-hearted monster! It’s bad enough she ruined my life, but why did she have to make me fat, too?!
Just then, a small handkerchief was held out in front of her.
Su Mian looked up to see Erbao watching her with an anxious expression. Though the little girl’s face was smeared with dirt, her delicate, pretty features were still undeniable. The hand holding out the handkerchief was trembling slightly, a clear sign of how terrified she was of her own mother.
A little girl who couldn’t speak, plagued by deep insecurity, and fully aware that her mother didn’t love her—Su Mian could hardly bear to imagine how much mistreatment Erbao had endured over the years.
She reached out to take the handkerchief.
Instinctively, Erbao shielded her head and dropped to her knees, curling up as if bracing herself for a beating.
Su Mian sighed softly. She reached out and gently stroked her daughter’s hair instead.
Feeling the gentle touch, Erbao slowly lowered her hands and looked up at Su Mian with wide, curious eyes.
“Good girl, weren’t you offering me your handkerchief? Why don’t you wipe the sweat off my face for me? My hands are dirty,” Su Mian said with a warm smile, keeping her voice as soft as possible to avoid scaring her sensitive, timid daughter.
This was the first time Erbao had ever heard her mother speak to her so gently. At just four years old, she desperately craved maternal affection. Even though her mother had often beaten and yelled at them, Erbao still longed to be loved.
Clutched tightly to the handkerchief, she raised her hand and began to wipe the sweat from Su Mian’s forehead.
Su Mian squinted her eyes happily and smiled. “Erbao is so clever! Look, all the sweat is gone.”
Heartened by the praise, Erbao gained a surge of confidence and moved to wipe the sweat from the other side of her mother’s face.
Just then, an ill-timed rumble echoed through the small room.
Su Mian couldn’t fathom how much effort the transmigrator had put into fattening her up, but her stomach had grown huge in the process. It hadn’t been long since she ate that plain roll, and yet her stomach was already growling with hunger again.
Dabao overheard it clearly. He immediately walked over to the table and picked up the last remaining meat bun, offering it to Su Mian.
It was the only bun left, and with darkness falling, finding more food tonight was going to be difficult.
Still, she couldn’t let the children go hungry. They were so young, and their frail, skinny frames were obvious signs of long-term malnutrition.
“Mom, eat,” Dabao urged softly when he saw her hesitate.
Both children were fundamentally good-natured. Though terrified of Su Mian, their young hearts held no hatred for her. In their eyes, she was their mother their only living family. Regardless of how poorly she treated them, they loved her unconditionally. So, faced with just one bun left, both kids were eager to give the last bit of food to their mother.
Su Mian’s eyes stung with tears. Taking the bun, she broke off a small piece for herself and popped it into her mouth. Then she tore the rest in half and handed a piece to each child.
“You eat it, Mom. I’m not hungry,” Dabao insisted, refusing to take it. Seeing her brother decline, Erbao naturally didn’t dare accept hers either.
“Eat up, both of you. Mom has a way to get more food, so just eat this to tide yourselves over,” Su Mian said, firmly shoving the pieces into their hands.
The children naturally trusted an adult’s word. Taking the bun, they began to munch on it greedily.
They had been starving for a full day and night with almost nothing to eat besides water, so between the three of them, the handful of buns and rolls they got earlier were devoured in no time.
Su Mian searched her memory, trying to recall if there was anything of value left in the house that she could trade for cash.
Suddenly, a realization struck her. She hurried over to the corner near the head of the bed and tapped on a brick in the wall. Sure enough, it sounded hollow.
She ran to grab a kitchen knife and pounded on the wall a few times until the brick loosened. Reaching into the small cavity behind it, her fingers brushed against something metallic.
It was a pocket watch—the “token of affection” the male lead, Lu Zheng, had given Su Mian back in the day. Even during her darkest, poorest moments, Su Mian had never brought herself to pawn it for money.
It had been hidden away for so long that she had almost forgotten it existed; fortunately, the memory of that detail from the original novel came back to her just in time.
“Kids, we’re going to have food to eat after all! Tomorrow, Mom will take this pocket watch and sell it,” Su Mian declared excitedly, clutching the watch in her hand.
Pocket watches like this were rare commodities mostly foreign imports that were hard to come by in the country. Su Mian was already calculating how much money she could get for it.
Private enterprise was slowly beginning to sprout nowadays. Most people still looked down on private vendors, so very few had stepped into business yet, but trading privately was no longer illegal.
Su Mian planned to head to the trading market tomorrow to see if she could find a buyer. If she could secure a bit of cash to solve their immediate survival needs, she could then make small handicrafts to sell on the side. That should be enough to keep the three of them fed.
When it came to handiwork, Su Mian had always been exceptionally skilled. Cooking, weaving bamboo baskets, sewing clothes, making hair accessories, or any other delicate craft—give her the materials, and she could turn out something beautiful. Back in the village, she had never needed to farm the fields for labor points; her skilled hands alone generated substantial revenue for the commune.
The woman who had hijacked her body was so focused on driving the novel’s plot that she hadn’t inherited a single fraction of Su Mian’s craftsmanship.
Of course, the commune system was gone now. Every household looked out for itself, no longer earning labor points, and ration coupons were gradually phasing out of the market.
Looking at the two children gazing up at her with bright, expectant eyes, Su Mian knew that even if she couldn’t raise much starting capital by selling the watch tomorrow, she had to find work immediately.
Yet, glancing down at her overweight body, she felt a wave of worry. Finding a decent job wasn’t going to be easy—especially since the kids were so young that she would need to keep them by her side to feel safe.
Well, no matter. Even if I have to sell this watch cheap, I have to get rid of it to solve our immediate crisis.
Still, a person couldn’t function on an empty stomach. They needed something to eat tonight.
That wretched transmigrator had left absolutely nothing behind before departing. When Su Mian cleaned the house earlier, she had searched every nook and cranny, only to find not a single grain of rice.
As for borrowing from the neighbors, that was out of the question. Everyone in the area avoided Su Mian’s family like the plague. Besides, the people living in these slums were all desperately poor themselves, barely scraping by who would have any spare food to lend her?