“Aha!
Look who’s here,” Aunt Hua exclaimed loudly, ensuring her voice carried to everyone nearby.
“Ever since you moved to the edge of the village, you’ve come into some money for house repairs, and now you’re even digging a well.
Madam He!
Looks like your granddaughter-in-law here is swimming in silver!
She must’ve been a generous contributor back when she was living with you, no doubt.”
Aunt Hua, who never could stand to see anyone doing well, kept her voice intentionally loud so all could hear.
As expected, Madam He’s face twisted into a grimace, her jaw clenching with irritation.
She knew Zhao Yingying had access to funds from her mother, who sent her a small allowance regularly, but she had never once handed it over to the main household, not to Madam He or any of her husband’s relatives.
While they all lived together, Madam He had tried repeatedly to get her hands on that money, but Zhao Yingying was even more cunning and difficult to deal with.
After several confrontations, she finally conceded.
Yet despite her resentment toward Zhao Ying, Yingying was still her grandson’s wife, and Madam He had no wish to be publicly shamed over her family matters.
The recent decision to separate households had already brought plenty of gossip from her husband’s relatives, and she could barely stand the looks and whispers as it was.
“Hmph!
If they’re doing well, then I’m glad.
Lu San is my son, after all,” Madam He declared loudly, as if speaking in support, though her voice strained with resentment, and her expression twisted in open displeasure.
Zhao Ying glanced over without a word, picking up Xiao Bao and hastening away without even acknowledging anyone.
She didn’t want Xiao Bao to be exposed to any more unpleasant talk and quickened her steps back home, leaving behind the lingering look of bitterness on Madam He’s face.
Once home, Zhao Ying set straight to cooking, using a generous amount of seasoning.
She wanted to show the family’s appreciation to the workers and hoped that if they ever needed help again, these men would gladly offer a hand.
The dinner went smoothly, with the rich stew, stir-fried wild vegetables, and thick white rice porridge delighting everyone at the table.
Each of them ate heartily, disregarding their table manners in the excitement of the meal.
As the last bites were eaten, each guest took turns complimenting Madam Zhang, unable to stop praising the food.
Madam Zhang shyly began to correct them, wanting to explain that Zhao Ying had been the one cooking, but Zhao Ying stopped her, whispering that Madam Zhang should take the credit.
“Actually, I didn’t–” Madam Zhang started, only for Zhao Ying to interject.
“Nonsense!
Mother’s cooking is the best.
Please, everyone, enjoy!” Zhao Ying said with a smile, turning to Madam Zhang and adding in a low voice, “If they knew it was my cooking, they might have hesitated to eat it.”
With that, Madam Zhang reluctantly accepted the compliments, returning only a faint smile to the guests.
After the meal, there was still some light left in the sky as it was summer, and the evening extended longer than usual.
With the repairs now complete, the family used the natural light to move back into their rooms.
Earlier, Zhao Ying had already distributed the fabric to Madam Zhang and asked her to make some extra clothes for Xiao Bao since Zhao Ying herself was unskilled with needlework.
That night, they used the old bedding, which no longer had a musty smell since Madam Zhang had aired it out in the sun during the house repairs.
For the first time in many nights, everyone slept comfortably and deeply.
It had now been exactly seven days since Zhao Ying had arrived in this world.
It was often said that seven days after death, a spirit would revisit familiar places.
Yet she hadn’t seen a single sign of Zhao Yingying’s spirit.
It struck her as odd, perhaps a reminder that reincarnation cycles worked differently in this world.
The thought unsettled her—maybe her time in this body was only temporary, that her own spirit might slip away at any moment, or that the original Zhao Yingying could return to reclaim her body.
But as seven days had now passed, Zhao Ying felt more certain: it seemed likely that her soul was here to stay in this life and in this body.
Each time Zhao Ying’s spirit entered the dimension, she could return without issue.
Using her body also came more naturally now.
At first, she would often feel sore at night, likely from pushing this heavy body beyond its usual limits—after all, this body had been notoriously lazy.
Now, though, after seven days without any spirit coming to reclaim the body, it was officially hers.
The stiffness and soreness had faded along with those seven days.
‘So… no spirits, huh?’ she thought briefly before waving away the idea.
‘Actually, I’d rather not see any, thank you very much!’ She laughed to herself.
In the past week, her relationship with the family had grown stronger, and the past conflicts faded away as quickly as they had come.
Life in the countryside was simple—people responded to kindness with kindness.
They believed even someone selfish like the old Zhao Yingying could change.
Her new family created no trouble for her and increasingly began to see her as one of their own.
She had quietly assumed a leadership role in the household; decisions now were usually discussed with her first.
Zhao Ying didn’t resist this.
In fact, she felt the need to teach practical skills and build a stronger spirit in this family.
If, when her nominal husband returned, they ended up divorcing, she hoped the family would be more self-sufficient and able to fend off any bullying from the old household.
In this era, the concept of filial piety was absolute.
Parents were never considered wrong, no matter their actions.
As someone from a modern world, Zhao Ying believed that right was right, and wrong was wrong.
Respecting parents shouldn’t mean accepting all their faults blindly.
Filial duty should rest on a foundation of reason and fairness.
After several days of adjustment, Zhao Ying finally accepted her life here, along with this new identity.
No longer the orphaned Zhao Ying of her past life, whose work included being a spy, scientist, doctor, and even assassin at times.
In her previous life, she had no friends, only colleagues, and personal connections were practically nonexistent.
Love?
Ha!
With so few real friends, romance was out of the question.
Life experience, however, was something she had in abundance.
She knew the dynamics of male-female relationships well enough.
She had been betrayed by a senior colleague back when she was still a virgin.
He had lured her into a trap, using her as bait for a drug lord who had a taste for pure, untainted girls.
Her first experience in her past life was the worst imaginable, but that brutal reality had forced her to harden herself to survive.
Now, she was Zhao Yingying, a mother living a peaceful rural life and likely facing a divorce in the near future.
Ha!
In her last life, as an orphan, she had dreamed of building a perfect family—one where a child wouldn’t suffer the loss of one or both parents like she had.
Now, she had a family but couldn’t even date.
The heavens must have taken pity on her and given her both a husband and child without her asking, fearing she might remain single forever.
But why did it have to be in the body of a woman already abandoned by her husband?
Thinking about it too hard was exhausting, and there was nothing she could change.
She’d wait for this so-called husband to return and figure out the rest then.
Breakfast that morning was a comforting rice porridge made from pork bone broth, each person had a boiled egg, and there was a side of sautéed wild greens with fragrant garlic and pork fat.
Little Xiao Bao was eating enthusiastically.
In Xiao Bao’s mind, he mused, ‘Ever since Mother moved us to this new house, she’s gotten kinder every day.
Look at this—I sleep so soundly beside her every night.
She cooks delicious food, and there are even sweet fruits to eat!
When we lived with Great-Grandmother, Mother was so mean.’
With that thought, Xiao Bao silently resolved to listen to everything his mother said and to never go back to the old house.
Zhao Ying noticed the way Xiao Bao was looking at her—it made her hair stand on end.
His gaze sparkled like that of a devoted fan looking at their idol.
Zhao Ying had some fragments of Zhao Yingying’s memories, but not all.
Certain memories were just general impressions without faces or details, especially events from right before she moved to this village.
“Ah, well, what memories would a rural life hold, anyway?” she thought, brushing off the musings.
As they sat together in the main room, Zhao Ying turned to Father Lu and asked, “Father, have you thought about how we’ll use the land behind the house?”
“We’ve missed the time for planting soybeans and corn, so we’ll need to clear the area first.
I was thinking of making a few vegetable beds so we can have fresh greens to eat.
Once winter passes, we can plan further,” Father Lu answered.
“Since we won’t be planting corn or soybeans this year, I had an idea,” Zhao Ying said.
“Last time I sold herbs to the Cui Zhu clinic, they told me they’d pay fair prices for quality herbs and even provide the seeds.
We’d just have to make sure the herbs we grow meet their standards and are effective.
Higher-quality herbs mean better prices.”
She continued, “At a minimum, we could bring in twenty taels a month, or maybe even forty or fifty.
We could divide the land behind the house into three sections.
The first part could be for our own vegetables.
The second could include a small pond to raise fish and water the beds.
And the largest section could be for the herb plots.
This way, we’d have extra income to buy supplies for winter and have vegetables to preserve.
What do you think?”
Both Father Lu and Mother Lu stared at her, mouths open so wide that they could almost fit whole eggs inside.
“Hehe, Grandpa and Grandma look so funny!” Xiao Bao couldn’t help but laugh.