And she, Shen Qingyu, would be the greatest variable.
Shen Qingyu didn’t have to wait long. Early the next morning, as the sky was just beginning to brighten, the people in the train carriage gradually woke up.
Some washed up, some ate dry rations, and others chatted.
After washing up, Jiang Muxue took out a jar of clam oil and applied a little to her skin.
It was unclear whether she was genuinely refreshed after tidying herself up or simply pretending.
She enthusiastically helped those nearby with their luggage and struck up a conversation with a male educated youth who appeared honest and good-natured.
Her words were filled with anticipation and enthusiasm for rural life, and within a few sentences, she had won over a wave of goodwill.
Shen Qingyu watched this scene quietly. She had washed up early and hadn’t been hungry then, so she hadn’t eaten anything. Now, feeling a bit hungry, she took out the leftover corn flatbread from the day before and began eating it in small bites.
“Comrade Shen, is that all you’re eating? You don’t seem to have much of an appetite. Is the flatbread too dry?”
“I have some pickled vegetables here. Would you like to try some, Comrade Shen?”
Seeing Shen Qingyu take out yesterday’s flatbread and eat it slowly, Jiang Muxue approached her again, holding a small glass jar filled with dark, salty vegetables.
On the surface, it seemed like an act of sharing, but in reality, it was another attempt to subtly label Shen Qingyu as someone who couldn’t stomach coarse food.
This time, however, she was more cautious and clever than before.
With her concern and willingness to share, no one could find fault with her actions.
Shen Qingyu raised her head slightly and offered Jiang Muxue a faint smile, tinged with a hint of embarrassment but with clear, sincere eyes.
“Thank you, Comrade Jiang. You’re so thoughtful, but I’m used to it. My mother always said that eating slowly and chewing thoroughly is good for your health.”
“Besides, this corn flatbread is quite fragrant. It’s a product of the working people’s wisdom, and eating it makes me feel at ease.”
After speaking, she lowered her head and continued eating in small bites, just as before.
Once again, she thwarted Jiang Muxue’s attempt to label her as “delicate.”
By attributing “eating slowly” to “her mother’s health advice” and praising the “wisdom of the working people,” it became nearly impossible to find fault with her.
Jiang Muxue’s hand, holding out the jar of pickled vegetables, paused awkwardly before she withdrew it. “Well… take your time eating.”
She also lowered her head and fell silent, inwardly seething with frustration. Another failure.
What was wrong with Shen Qingyu? In her previous life, she hadn’t been like this at all.
Could it be… that she had also been reborn?
For a moment, panic surged within her, but she quickly steadied herself. What if she was overthinking it? After all, she had no proof.
At that moment, a round-faced female educated youth sitting diagonally across from Shen Qingyu watched her eating the flatbread carefully in small bites and whispered to her companion.
“Look at Comrade Shen. She eats so elegantly. You can tell she comes from a well-mannered family. And she doesn’t look down on coarse food at all—such high ideological awareness.”
Her voice wasn’t loud, but those sitting nearby could hear her clearly.
Jiang Muxue’s fingers tightened slightly around the jar of pickled vegetables.
Shen Qingyu acted as if she hadn’t heard anything. After finishing the flatbread, she carefully folded the oiled paper and asked the female educated youth beside her to keep an eye on her luggage.
Then, taking a towel, she went to the connecting area between the carriages to wash up. She moved quickly, and when she returned, her hair had been neatly combed again, her braids tied meticulously.
She gave off an impression of modesty and efficiency.
This was also the initial image she wanted to establish.
It was unclear whether it was because the train had already entered the northern region, but the temperature had noticeably dropped. The morning wind seeped in through the gaps in the windows, carrying a slight chill.
Most of the people in their carriage, like Shen Qingyu, were from the south. Feeling the cold, they all began rummaging for clothes.
Shen Qingyu once again searched through her satchel, using it as a cover to retrieve a slightly worn, dark blue thin sweater from her Spatial Dimension. She pulled it over the shirt she was wearing. The sweater was finely knitted, simple in style, but of excellent quality.
Jiang Muxue, sharp-eyed, noticed this and added a jacket for herself—a common gray khaki work jacket. Then, as if unintentionally, she remarked, “Comrade Shen, that sweater is beautifully knitted. It must have been made by a family member. It looks very warm.”
Shen Qingyu glanced at Jiang Muxue and couldn’t help but think to herself that if Jiang Muxue applied this relentless perseverance to other areas, she could achieve great things.
On the surface, however, Shen Qingyu revealed a hint of sorrow (a genuine expression): “This was the last sweater my mother knitted for me before she passed away. Her health was always poor, and she stayed up late to finish this sweater… Seeing it feels as though my mother is still by my side, encouraging me. No matter how cold or difficult things get, I’m not afraid.”
Her words were half-truth and half-fabrication. After all, the original owner’s mother had indeed passed away from illness. Mentioning a deceased loved one evoked genuine emotion, and the somber yet resilient tone in her voice diluted the peculiarity brought by the sweater, instead adding a touch of poignancy.
Upon hearing this, the educated youths around them looked at Shen Qingyu with softer eyes.
Ji Yiqing also glanced at her a few more times, his gaze filled with sympathy and respect.
At the same time, he couldn’t help but think to himself, Comrade Shen truly is a resilient young woman.
Jiang Muxue was nearly infuriated to the point of spitting blood. The words she had intended to say were now stuck in her throat, neither coming out nor staying in. She never expected that her remark would not only fail to achieve its purpose but would instead elevate Shen Qingyu’s reputation among their group of educated youths even further.
Furious to the core, she still had to feign concern on the surface. After all, if she hadn’t said those words, Shen Qingyu wouldn’t have been reminded of such painful memories.
With an expression of helplessness and guilt, she said, “Comrade Shen, please accept my condolences. I’m sorry, I didn’t know. Your mother must have wanted you to live well.”
“It’s alright. I will live well,” Shen Qingyu nodded slightly, lowering her gaze without looking at Jiang Muxue. She adjusted the collar of her sweater and said nothing more.
Jiang Muxue had no intention of probing further at this point. She lowered her head to conceal the surging frustration and confusion in her eyes.
Could it be that Shen Qingyu was also reborn, just like her?
In her previous life, Shen Qingyu had been nothing more than a foolish woman with only beauty to her name—willful, spoiled, and quick-tempered. How could she seem like a completely different person in this life?
Her words were flawless, her actions methodical, and she even knew how to play the emotional card.
Could she really be the same as me?
This feeling grew stronger, tightening her heart and paling her face.
No, it’s impossible! I must be overthinking it.
She bit her lip lightly, trying to calm herself down this way.
If Shen Qingyu were truly like her, she would have shown hostility toward her long ago or tried to curry favor with Ji Yiqing.
After all, in her previous life, she had married Ji Yiqing. Now that she had been reborn, she couldn’t just stand by and watch herself interact with Ji Yiqing.
Yet, judging by her behavior, she was only cold and distant toward her, without any possessiveness toward Ji Yiqing. In fact, she treated him like any ordinary comrade.
It was too strange—this was completely unlike her usual way of doing things.