In the courtyard, Ruan Tinghe cleaned up after the chaos. When she learned that Shen Yan had slipped out through the window, she didn’t think much of it. Still full of anger, she also didn’t notice what Dabaо had said—that Shen Yan was sleeping in the car outside.
The three little ones were very obedient. Knowing their mother had just dealt with so many villagers, they quietly washed up and ate on their own, not bothering her at all.
At night, they didn’t even ask for bedtime stories and went to bed early.
But Ruan Tinghe couldn’t sleep. She kept tossing and turning—thinking about the children’s father, wondering what Shen Yan actually wanted, and also considering how she could make a fortune with her space.
Before she knew it, she finally drifted off.
But her sleep was uneasy.
She dreamed of that night again.
“Marriage. Marry me.”
The man’s low, hoarse voice echoed like a curse over and over again, as if he had even placed something around her neck.
But when she woke up, her neck was empty—there was nothing there at all.
After that, the man never appeared again.
To escape that forced marriage and break free from Stone Village, she had fought with everything she had—almost dying with four lives at stake—before finally escaping that cage.
That journey of struggle and pain… she rarely thought about it, and never told anyone.
When she woke up, her body was drenched in sweat, as if she had been pulled out of water. She had a fever—low-grade, but enough to leave her dizzy and disoriented.
“Bastard man! Not a single word of truth! All lies!”
He had promised marriage, but when she woke up, he was gone—and she had nearly lost her life because of it.
Back then, the village was full of all kinds of people—sent-down educated youths, “bourgeois” families, and outsiders temporarily staying there.
Her weak body was trapped in the Ruan household. She had no strength to find anyone even if she wanted to.
By the time she finally escaped and regained her freedom, the educated youths had returned to the cities, the exiled families had either died or disappeared, and the outsiders had long since left.
Finding someone had become even more impossible.
Eventually, she realized the truth—men like that were just trash. So she slowly stopped trying to look for him.
Her thoughts drifted in and out of consciousness. She took some fever medicine from her space, but it didn’t help much.
With the space, she didn’t even need to go out to survive. Food and necessities were all there in abundance—her fridge was full enough to feed a family of four for a long time.
She even stopped doing laundry by hand, secretly bringing clothes into the space to wash them in the washing machine.
She also gave the children new drawing boards and brushes from the future world.
The quality was far beyond anything of this era.
The second child loved it so much that he refused to let go. Seeing his mother drawing portraits, he tried drawing people too—only to cry again and again.
“Waaah, Mom! Why can’t I draw people properly? Am I really not your biological child?”
He hugged her leg and cried, snot and tears smearing all over her pants, his tiny body shaking pitifully.
Ruan Tinghe gently tapped his forehead.
“What nonsense are you talking about? Of course you’re my biological child! Otherwise how could you be so good at drawing? You’re just not good at drawing people yet—you’re great at other things.”
The third child handed a blank sheet of paper to the second child, babbling softly as if encouraging him to draw objects instead.
The second child shook his head. “I don’t want to draw anymore. I’ve already drawn everything here.”
To comfort him, Ruan Tinghe suddenly had an idea.
“Second baby, Mom has something you definitely haven’t drawn before!”
She took out a small desk lamp from her space.
Because it had been raining nonstop, the sky outside was dark and gloomy. Even though the house had electricity, the bulb was dim and yellow, barely better than candlelight.
But the desk lamp was bright, its light wide and clear—it was something she had specifically bought in her previous life for drawing at night.
When she turned it on, the whole room instantly lit up.
The three little ones gathered around it in curiosity.
“Wow! Mom, is the sun trapped inside?”
“It’s warm! So bright!”
Their laughter filled the small room, mixing with the sound of rain outside.
The warmth and joy inside drifted out in faint echoes—enough to make Shen Yan lose his focus for a long time.
Because of the continuous rain, the family stayed indoors for three days straight. They didn’t know that someone had been guarding them for three days and three nights.
Only when news came that “Shan Zhu” had been captured did the rain-washed car finally drive away.
Soon after, Old Chen arrived on a bicycle.
“Xiao Ruan, I’ve got a job for you. Are you taking it?”
Ruan Tinghe came out from the kitchen. “Uncle Chen, the rice is just done steaming. Let’s eat first—”
“No time. They’re waiting. If you go, you can eat on the way.”
“Is it that urgent?”
“Pretty urgent.”
Old Chen stepped into the kitchen and lowered his voice after confirming the children weren’t around.
“The manager of the state-owned restaurant, Comrade Li, had a little niece who accidentally fell into the water and drowned. Because she’s a girl, she can’t be buried in the ancestral grave. The family plans to cremate her directly, but her mother can’t bear it. She begged me to find you—to draw her a portrait, so she can keep it as a memory.”
Ruan Tinghe frowned. “Why can’t girls be buried in the ancestral grave?”
What kind of ridiculous rule was that? Were daughters not part of the family?
Old Chen sighed. “It’s an old tradition. Outsiders can’t change it.”
Seeing her hesitation, he added, “If you take the job, we’ll leave immediately.”
Then, lowering his voice further, he continued, “The child’s mother has a relative in Shanghai who’s a doctor. I heard his teacher is a world-class medical expert abroad. Ordinary people can’t even get an appointment. I’ll ask her to introduce you—maybe you can take Xiao Bao there for treatment.”
The moment Xiao Bao was mentioned, Ruan Tinghe had no hesitation.
Even without that condition, she had already planned to take the job. The least she could do was leave something behind for the child’s mother.
She quickly packed a bowl of rice, stuffed it with braised pork and vegetables in the center, and pressed it into a rice ball.
Wrapped in leaves, she ate it on the way while hurrying off.
Only late that night did she return, bringing back the recommendation letter from the child’s mother.
Thinking about Xiao Bao’s treatment, she couldn’t sleep at all.
She only had a little over six hundred yuan in savings—three hundred of which she had earned recently while undercover.
It wasn’t enough. Not nearly enough. Even travel expenses alone would be a huge burden.
She searched through her space, selecting items she could sell on the black market, plus the house itself. It should be enough for her and the children to survive a while in Shanghai.
When the money ran out, she would find a job.
After settling that, she checked the time—it was already 3 a.m.
Since she couldn’t sleep anyway, she continued drawing Shen Yan’s sister in her space.
It was her first time reconstructing a face from childhood into adulthood, so her method was unstructured and experimental.
The photo was badly damaged, so she first restored the girl’s appearance using sketch reconstruction.
Then she extrapolated her adult features based on bone structure, muscle development, and facial proportions.
After days of work, the adult version of the girl was nearly complete—only the finishing touches remained.
Her strokes were smooth and precise. Two hours later, a delicate and beautiful young woman emerged on the paper.
She carefully stored the portrait and turned again to the restored sketch of the old photo.
She had only drawn the girl so far.
Since there was still time before dawn, she decided to sketch the boy as well.
But…
When she finished the boy’s face, she froze.
This… why did he look a little like Dabaо?