Wen Ya had originally planned to buy a home of her own after turning forty, feeling perfectly content with her current lifestyle.
Having finished editing and posting her latest video for the day, she settled in to read a novel to pass the time. She was near the end of a story centered on a female protagonist who had been reborn into the 1970s.
In that story, the heroine was on her way to the countryside as a sent-down youth when she got into an argument with a female villain. Pushed during the scuffle, she struck her head against the edge of a train seat, blacked out, and woke up in her past self’s body. Afterward, she found a chipped jade pendant along the way and inadvertently unlocked a hidden spatial dimension. Equipped with a magical spirit spring, arable soil, and livestock pens, the heroine used the spring water to enhance her beauty, slap the villain’s face, team up with the male lead, win his devotion, crush every rival, pass the college entrance exam, and build an empire that led straight to the pinnacle of life.
Wen Ya had only one lingering thought when she finished the book: Whoever lost that jade pendant was profoundly unlucky.
She went to bed early to stay well-rested. She was a homebody, but she cared deeply about her appearance and possessed an impressive collection of homemade beauty concoctions.
Her schedule for the next day was set: record a video in the morning, then head to the mall to buy a new designer bag. Food and basic necessities were already well-stocked in her space. Having mastered so many handicrafts, the only items she couldn’t make from scratch were structured handbags and shoes, so she routinely went shopping to buy accessories that complemented her hand-sewn clothes.
The next morning, after filming and uploading a quick breakfast video, she hailed a taxi to the mall. Yes, a taxi—she had tried for years to get her driver’s license, only to fail the road test every single time, much to her own resignation.
At the mall, she picked out three handbags, two pairs of shoes, a batch of nail polish, and nail art supplies before taking another cab back.
The moment she got home, she collapsed onto the couch. For a recluse like her, spending a few hours at the mall was no less grueling than getting stabbed twice.
Back when she first unlocked her spatial dimension, she had practiced basic self-defense and maintained a workout routine. But as years passed without an apocalypse or transmigration, she let her fitness slide. Over time, she had become as lazy as they came.
She hung her new bags in the walk-in closet, stashed the nail supplies, and drifted toward the kitchen to fix lunch.
After eating, she settled down for an afternoon nap, but her sleep was fitful and restless. When she finally snapped awake, she sat up on the bed in a daze.
Why am I feeling so uneasy? she wondered, her heart fluttering with anxiety. Could a transmigration or an apocalypse actually be coming? But it’s been so many years… could it really happen now?
Doesn’t matter, she decided, shaking off her panic. Whether it happens or not, I just need to be ready.
She scrambled off the bed, freshened up, and began sweeping every usable item in the house into her spatial dimension, double-checking every corner to make sure nothing was left behind.
Then she checked her mobile banking app. She needed to spend every last cent. If she actually transmigrated or the world ended while she still had money in the bank, she’d die of heartache. Besides, if nothing happened, her next monthly payout from her video platform would arrive soon enough anyway.
Without hesitation, she went downstairs, took a cab straight back to the commercial district, and went on an absolute spending spree.
After paying for everything, she instructed the delivery drivers to drop the haul off at a small suburban warehouse she had rented. Once the drivers left, she swept the entire load into her spatial dimension, pulled out her bicycle, and pedaled home—she literally had no money left for a cab ride.
She locked her bike under the shed near her apartment building, but just as she stepped toward the entrance, a terrified voice yelled from above:
“Watch out!”
Before she could react, something heavy slammed squarely onto her head.
A second before she lost consciousness, her final fleeting thought wasn’t fear, but pure regret: Darn it… I didn’t get to put my bicycle into the spatial dimension. What a waste!
When she opened her eyes again, she was lying on a narrow wooden plank bed, staring up at a whitewashed wall. Looking to her side, she spotted a modest desk with a few textbooks piled on top.
Did I actually transmigrate? she thought, dazed. This definitely doesn’t look like ancient times.
She tried to sit up, but an agonizing pain shot through her temples, knocking her out again.
A rush of memories flooded her mind, detailing the sixteen years of a young girl’s life. It was a complete life story because the girl had died the night before—striking her head during a violent struggle.
The girl had grown up in a working-class household. Her father was a laborer at a steel mill, and her mother worked at a textile factory. As an only child, her upbringing had been reasonably comfortable.
However, her father was obsessed with having a son to carry on the family name. Her mother, abused and overworked by her mother-in-law after giving birth, had been left permanently infertile. Guilt had kept the father silent while the grandmother lived, and when the old woman finally passed away, the mother enjoyed a brief period of peace.
Tragically, her mother fell ill and died the previous year. Less than three months into his mourning period, her father remarried a divorced woman with a son. The woman had severed ties with her ex-husband after he committed a crime.
When the woman promised that her son would take the father’s surname, the man eagerly married her, overjoyed to finally have an heir.
This year, the stepson was due to be sent down to the countryside as a youth laborer. The stepmother had whispered sweet nothings into her husband’s ear, insisting that her son needed to stay in the city to support them in their old age. In the end, they decided to force the daughter to take his place instead. When the girl refused, a violent fight broke out.
Thinking of the father’s delusions, Wen Ya sneered inwardly. He really thinks that kid is going to treat him like a real father and care for him in his old age? He’s dreaming!
The girl’s name was Chen Xiuya.
Wen Ya pulled a small handheld mirror from her spatial dimension to examine her new face. The girl looked different from her past self—Wen Ya had been a striking beauty, whereas Xiuya possessed a delicate, understated charm. Her best feature was a pair of large, watery deer eyes.
Checking her spatial dimension, she confirmed that every item was intact and all her livestock were thriving. This was her ultimate ace in the hole.
She needed to plan her next move carefully. Just last night, she had overheard her scum of a father saying he would go register her for the countryside program today, which had triggered the girl’s desperate attempt to fight back. From Wen Ya’s perspective, fighting him directly was pointless—he was entirely under his new wife’s thumb.
Analyzing the family situation, she recalled that the girl’s paternal grandparents were dead, and her aunts and uncles kept their distance because her father had only a daughter.
Her maternal grandparents and uncles had all perished during the political upheaval. Her mother had only married her father in the first place because of her family’s poor political background, which was also why she had been unable to resist her mother-in-law’s abuse.
That meant Chen Xiuya was the last remaining bloodline of her mother’s family.
Her maternal grandfather had been exceptionally wealthy and had hidden his assets when he saw trouble coming. Right after Xiuya was born, her mother had hung an old jade pendant around her neck, claiming it was a family heirloom. Because it looked worn and unattractive, no one had ever bothered to steal it.
Wen Ya reached up and checked her neck. Fortunately, the pendant was still there.
Upon closer inspection, she noticed a piece of the jade was missing, leaving a sharp edge. It must have broken off during last night’s struggle. The front of the pendant featured a carved bamboo forest.
Intrigued, she reached out to flip the pendant over to check the back, but the razor-sharp edge sliced into her finger, sending a drop of fresh blood onto the stone.