Li Xianglian remained calm and gave no response.
There was only one year left before the famine. She had no mind for anything else—she needed to store enough food in the space within the wooden hairpin as quickly as possible. Without a means to survive, she would end up like in her previous life, at the mercy of others.
But divorcing now? She wasn’t that kind-hearted.
In the year of famine, she would make Chen Lang repay everything he owed her.
The next day.
Her father made a wheelchair for her.
Seated in it, Li Xianglian was pushed by her parents toward Chen Lang’s small courtyard.
The three of them spoke quietly.
“Lian’er, the matter of divorce needs careful planning. Let us discuss it with the clan elders first. For now, we’ll bring your belongings back home, and you can stay with us.”
“Father, Mother, I’m not in a hurry. Chen Lang is the village scholar—his clan won’t easily agree to a divorce.”
Before she could finish, a shrill scream came from inside the house.
“Father, my stomach hurts…”
They hurried inside. Chen Lang was holding their son, who was foaming at the mouth, convulsing violently. His trousers were soaked, giving off a foul odor. Chen Lang’s eyes flashed with disgust as he glared at Li Xianglian.
“Why are you only coming back now? Don’t you know our son is sick?!”
Suppressing the satisfaction in her heart, Li Xianglian spoke softly, “My leg is broken, and you didn’t even ask about me. I even gave up Doctor Xu to treat our son—yet you still blame me?”
Her phoenix-like eyes were filled with disappointment, her red lips pressed tightly together, radiating cold distance and restrained anger.
Chen Lang froze, the anger in his eyes fading instantly.
Though Li Xianglian wasn’t as charming as Caishan, her face was endlessly pleasing.
But she had always been obedient—why was she suddenly blaming him?
Could she have discovered the trap he set in the mountains that caused her injury?
While he was still suspicious, Li Xianglian looked calmly at their son writhing in pain.
Xu Caishan’s medical skills were poor. She had deliberately coaxed her into treating the little ingrate yesterday—just a small repayment for past grievances.
Taking advantage of Chen Lang’s distraction, Li Xianglian wheeled herself to her camphorwood chest. It was part of her dowry.
But after searching thoroughly, she couldn’t find her wooden hairpin.
In that instant, her blood seemed to freeze.
Forcing herself to remain calm, she asked, “Husband, where is my hairpin? Did you take it?”
“Xianglian, you asked me to bring Doctor Xu to treat our son. I already gave the hairpin as payment. Don’t make trouble,” Chen Lang said, avoiding her gaze.
He hadn’t given it away at all—he had hidden it beforehand. He planned to use it as a reward to test her obedience. If she passed the “test” of breaking her leg, he would return it. Later, he would make an excuse about redeeming it.
A surge of anger rose in Li Xianglian’s chest.
After years of marriage, how could she not see through his lie?
Chen Lang hurriedly picked up their son and pushed their daughter toward Li Xianglian. “Take care of her. I’m taking our son to find a doctor.”
Sitting in a wheelchair, Li Xianglian couldn’t resist him.
But her parents were not to be trifled with.
Exchanging a glance, they stepped forward and blocked Chen Lang.
“I won’t make things difficult—just return my daughter’s belongings!” her father said sternly.
“That is a family heirloom of the Li family! Who gave you the right to exchange it?” her mother added.
Though smaller, her mother’s strong, labor-hardened arms snatched the boy from Chen Lang.
When he tried to grab him back, he was no match—her father kicked him, sending him stumbling.
Chen Lang almost wanted to abandon his son and flee.
The Li family were lunatics!
Once he regained his status, he would deal with these crude peasants!
“Li Xianglian, tell your mother to let go! Is the hairpin more important than our son?”
Li Xianglian looked at him coldly. “Husband, if you’re going to deceive me, you’d better keep it hidden for a lifetime.”
Chen Lang’s hand trembled, cold sweat forming on his brow.
Was she talking about the hairpin—or his identity?
He tried to read her, but her composed expression captivated him, leaving him unable to look away.
Forcing a smile, he took out the wooden hairpin.
“I planned to decorate it with silver thread for you. I didn’t expect such a reaction. Here, take it back. Don’t quarrel with me—I still need to take our son to the doctor.”
She saw through his manipulation—trying to stir guilt to control her.
But she no longer cared.
After Chen Lang left, Li Xianglian handed her crying daughter to her parents.
“Mother, please watch Xuan’er. I need to find something inside. Don’t let her come in.”
Her mother held the child, puzzled but said nothing.
Li Xianglian entered the inner room and, without hesitation, pierced her palm with the hairpin.
The dull pain came, yet she felt an overwhelming sense of relief.
In the next moment, she vanished and entered the mysterious space within the hairpin.
“Hm?”
In her previous life, the space had been vast, filled with endless rice fields.
But now, it was only about an acre—overgrown with weeds. A small river nearby had dried up, and a shabby hut stood alone.
Li Xianglian felt herself connected to the hairpin and wheeled herself into the hut.
Inside was simple: a narrow wooden bed and a small dusty table.
On it lay a book.
She picked it up and skimmed through it, finally understanding the origin and use of the space.
The hairpin was an ancestral treasure, usable only by those of Li blood who formed a bond with it using their blood.
The space inside was similar to the outside world, but the soil was more fertile. Crops grown here would be infused with spiritual energy—while not curing all diseases, they could strengthen the body.
Medicinal herbs could even grow in accelerated time—one day equaling a hundred days.
However, the space could only expand if it absorbed pain.
Otherwise, it would remain this small.
Li Xianglian traced her fingers thoughtfully, suddenly understanding why the space had been vast in her previous life.
Years of famine must have generated immense suffering—feeding the space.
Most incredible of all, pain itself could be transformed into seeds.
With enough pain, crops could grow without planting.
Even as she tried to remain calm, her heart raced.
Accumulate pain. Expand the space.
That scumbag, that vile woman, and those two ungrateful children—they were nothing more than perfect fuel.
Li Xianglian curved her lips into a faint smile.
Her greatest fortune after rebirth lay right before her.
The more they suffered, the happier she would be.