As she stored the last row of shelves into her Spatial Dimension, Shen Qingyu stumbled and nearly fell, but she managed to steady herself by leaning against the wall.
This was the mental exhaustion from extensively using her consciousness to collect items. However, seeing that nearly eighty percent of the Spatial Dimension was now filled with supplies, she felt more excitement than fatigue.
After resting for a while, Shen Qingyu drove back to her now-emptied apartment. Apart from the things she couldn’t take with her, only a camp bed, a sleeping bag, and a bottle of water remained.
On the sixth day, she bought a wide variety of takeout—drinks and food of all kinds.
She spent the entire day eating.
Once she arrived in the 1970s, these things wouldn’t be easy to come by. So, while there was still time, she bought everything she could and stored it all in her Spatial Dimension, without worrying about expiration or spoilage.
That night, she checked into a hotel. Lying on the comfortable bed, she began browsing through materials about the 1970s, even watching projected news briefs and documentaries.
As the countdown reached the seventh day, Shen Qingyu was still watching documentaries about the 1970s, determined to engrave all the knowledge into her mind.
She even changed into clothes appropriate for that era and styled her hair into braids.
Looking at herself in the mirror, she saw that the urban sophistication had faded, replaced by a youthful innocence and formality characteristic of that time.
These were the results of her meticulous study of countless old photographs.
Finally, the countdown echoed in her mind.
Shen Qingyu closed her eyes, silently reciting the information she had memorized countless times.
Her name was Shen Qingyu, from Shanghai, 18 years old. Her parents were deceased engineers. She had responded to the call to go to the countryside and was assigned to the Hongqi Production Team in Heilongjiang Province…
[Beep, beep, beep… Countdown: three, two, one. Binding complete. Beginning crossing.]
This was the last sound Shen Qingyu heard before losing consciousness.
…
1975, on a special train for educated youth heading from Northeast China to Heilongjiang Province.
The clamor of voices, the clattering of wheels against rails, and the air thick with the smells of coal smoke, sweat, and various foods all rushed in at once.
Shen Qingyu was shaken awake.
“…Comrade? Comrade? Are you alright?”
Shen Qingyu frowned and opened her eyes. What greeted her was a face filled with concern—a face that instantly made her spine stiffen.
The young woman appeared to be around eighteen or nineteen years old, wearing a slightly worn floral-patterned shirt and two dark braids.
Her skin was a healthy honey color, and her eyes were large and bright. At that moment, she was leaning slightly toward Shen Qingyu, her gaze carrying just the right amount of worry.
Looking at this face, Shen Qingyu immediately recognized who it was.
Jiang Muxue.
The reborn female protagonist in the book, and also… one of the people who pushed the original owner toward her tragic fate.
The sound of her heart pounding violently pulled her back to her senses. She quickly adjusted her expression, adding a touch of appropriate confusion and weariness.
Gently pressing her fingers against her temples, she said softly, “N-no, I’m fine. Maybe I’m a bit carsick. Thank you for your concern, comrade.”
Her voice was soft and sweet, just like the original owner’s, with a natural tone of restraint and politeness characteristic of that era.
After speaking, Shen Qingyu began massaging her temples while surveying her surroundings.
This carriage was a hard-seat compartment, filled entirely with educated youth heading to the countryside. The carriage was crowded, the air noisy and stuffy, and the seats were dark green painted benches. Sitting opposite her was the reincarnated female protagonist, Jiang Muxue.
By the window next to her sat the male protagonist from the book, Ji Yiqing, wearing a half-new, half-old dacron shirt. At first glance, he gave the impression of having clear, bright features. At the moment, he was lowering his head, reading a little red book.
On the other side of the aisle by the window sat a young man in dark blue work clothes with stern, cold features, gazing out the window.
The lines of his profile were as sharp as if carved by a knife. He was the major antagonist from the book, Gu Huainian, whose ending wasn’t much different from hers—equally tragic.
Diagonally behind them, two young men were chatting and laughing quietly. One of them, with a somewhat unruly and defiant look in his eyes, was Lu Ye.
The other, wearing gold-rimmed glasses and appearing very refined, was Su Yixuan.
Sitting next to Lu Ye was a girl with delicate features and a quiet demeanor named Mu Yue. At the moment, she was staring out the window, her gaze somewhat vacant.
All the important characters from the book had gathered in this carriage.
The real sensations, smells, sounds…
All of it told her: this was not a dream. Shen Qingyu had truly arrived in 1975 and boarded this destined-to-be-extraordinary train for educated youth.
“Motion sickness? It really can make you feel awful, so be careful.”
Jiang Muxue’s voice pulled Shen Qingyu’s thoughts back. Then, she handed over a military canteen, smiling warmly as she said, “Have some water. I brought water steeped with mint leaves—it might help with your motion sickness.”
Her movements were natural, her tone sincere. Anyone seeing this would think she was a kind-hearted and helpful comrade.
But Shen Qingyu caught a fleeting scrutiny in the way Jiang Muxue looked at her.
There was also a trace of barely noticeable confusion, probably wondering why this lifetime’s “Shen Qingyu” wasn’t quite the same as the pampered, delicate girl from the previous life.
“Thank you, but there’s no need. I brought my own water.”
Shen Qingyu politely declined the offered canteen and took out an old aluminum water bottle from her satchel, printed with the words “Serve the People.”
She unscrewed the cap and took a couple of sips. This was the Spatial Spring Water she had prepared in advance.
The spring water had appeared after she finished storing her belongings. She had already tasted it—it could strengthen the body and relieve fatigue. Whether it had other effects, she didn’t know.
The water was cool and sweet, and Shen Qingyu liked it very much. She had bought many identical bottles, cleaned them, and filled quite a few, just in case she ran out and needed to switch.
Now, as the water reached her stomach, it did indeed soothe her churning insides, which had been unsettled by motion sickness.
Jiang Muxue smiled, withdrew the canteen, and didn’t insist on Shen Qingyu drinking from it.
Instead, she struck up a conversation with Ji Yiqing beside her: “Comrade Ji, you’re really focused on your book. This time, we’re heading to Heilongjiang Province. I’ve heard the winters there are especially cold—I wonder if that’s true.”
Ji Yiqing looked up and gave Jiang Muxue a polite smile. “It’s true.”
His voice was gentle, carrying a hint of scholarly refinement.
Shen Qingyu lowered her eyes, adjusted her satchel, and quickly calculated in her mind.
She had just shaken off the “pampered” label, but with Jiang Muxue’s personality, she wouldn’t give up so easily.
Not long after, when the train stopped at a small station, someone carrying a bamboo basket quietly called out by the window, selling boiled eggs and roasted sweet potatoes.
Jiang Muxue immediately said, “Comrade Shen, you still look quite pale. Would you like to buy an egg to eat? It’ll help replenish your energy.”
Her voice wasn’t loud, but several educated youths nearby heard her, and their gazes instantly gathered.
These words might sound like concern for her, but in this era of material scarcity and the prevailing spirit of enduring hardship and embracing simplicity, frequently suggesting buying food—especially for a female comrade—could easily leave an impression of “indulging in comfort” and “being unable to endure hardship.”