“Sis, are you okay?”
In the run-down courtyard of the Lin family, Lin Xiaomei pointed at the dried blood on Lin Jinghong’s forehead.
“I’m fine. Don’t run around, sis needs to lie down for a bit.” Lin Jinghong’s head was throbbing painfully.
The Lin family’s courtyard wall was low—anyone with long legs could simply step over it.
There were two main rooms. On the left, the back room belonged to Father and Mother Lin, with the main hall in front. On the right, an inner and outer room were partitioned off, where the three Lin siblings lived.
There were no side rooms on the east side, only a small storage room, while the one on the left served as the kitchen.
The front yard was small, with a pomegranate tree planted in it, and the back yard held a few rows of vegetable plots.
The house was made of rammed earth with a thatched roof, and the interior was dim. Lin Jinghong lay on the kang—this room could truly only be described as bare walls.
A yellowed slogan was pasted on the wall, unpainted. On a rickety table sat a chipped bowl used for drinking water.
The cotton in the quilt on the kang had already clumped together. Fortunately, it was summer now.
She let out a long sigh to the ceiling.
There were five people in the family. Her parents worked like old oxen. The Qingyan Brigade was sizable, and the two of them were up in the mountains working today—they probably hadn’t even heard about her and the Wu family yet.
She casually picked up a mirror with a red plastic frame from the small table beside the kang. Seeing the sallow face inside, the corner of her mouth twitched. “Ghost!”
“So ugly. Let me die.”
Life held no meaning.
She lay there pretending to be dead for a long while, then helplessly opened her eyes again.
“!!!!”
“Damn it, did I transmigrate again???” The unfamiliar scene before her made her freeze.
A small, square world, only about one mu in size. The soil was black, with a well on the left side, surrounded by thick mist.
This was… a spatial dimension??
Her eyes widened, and she silently willed herself out.
Her vision blurred, and she was back on the kang. “Hahahaha!”
Father and Mother Lin, who had rushed back frantically after hearing the news, were startled by her unhinged laughter.
Mother Lin’s legs gave way, and she collapsed to the ground.
Oh no, their daughter’s condition had gotten worse.
Everyone in the brigade thought Lin Jinghong was unstable—when she had episodes, she’d beat people, and she was incredibly strong.
Even many adults were no match for her.
“Xiaomei, your sister…” Father Lin swallowed hard, his face full of worry.
The family couldn’t afford anything happening to their child.
“She should be fine.” Lin Xiaomei, who had been counting ants on the ground, hurried over.
“I’ll go check.” Mother Lin pushed herself up. Her poor daughter.
Creak!
The door, barely holding together, was pulled open, and Lin Jinghong walked out.
She was the same person, but somehow different.
Bright, sparkling eyes, head held high, chest out.
“Mom, Dad, you’re back!”
“Huh? Oh, we’re back.”
“Da Ya, are you okay?” Mother Lin was on the verge of tears.
Lin Jinghong’s mouth twitched uncontrollably. “Mom, don’t call me Da Ya.”
Before she started school, Lin Jinghong had been called Lin Daya. After she enrolled, she met a kind teacher who gave her the name Lin Jinghong.
The Lin family lived in poverty, but Father and Mother Lin gritted their teeth and sent all three children to school.
Lin Jinghong was eighteen this year and had finished middle school. Lin Xiaodi was fifteen, in his second year of junior high. Lin Xiaomei was only seven, set to start school this autumn.
It was 1974.
“Alright, alright, Jinghong.” Mother Lin coaxed her. “Your forehead…”
Lin Jinghong had cleaned her forehead with water from the Mystic Spring in her spatial dimension and wrapped it with a clean cloth.
“It’s nothing.”
As they were talking, Lin Xiaodi came back too. A fifteen-year-old boy, about 1.7 meters tall, skinny as a beanpole.
Seeing Lin Jinghong in one piece, he let out a sigh of relief.
The boy was at that age where he couldn’t hold back his temper. He grabbed a thick arm-sized wooden stick from the yard and charged outside.
Mother Lin was terrified and grabbed him. “What are you doing?!”
“I’m going to the Wu family!”
The ruthlessness in his eyes was plain to see.
“What are you going to the Wu family for? Put that down!”
Father Lin was also startled and rushed over to pull him back, but even the two of them together couldn’t hold him.
Lin Xiaodi was about to run out the door when someone suddenly yanked him back.
Meeting his sister’s expressionless face, he didn’t dare say a word.
“I’ve already dealt with them.” Lin Jinghong blinked. “I’m hungry.”
She could eat a whole cow right now.
“Alright, Mom will make you something right away!” Mother Lin wasn’t worried about Lin Xiaodi running off anymore.
Lin Jinghong was there.
Lin Xiaomei went to help with the fire, while Lin Jinghong dragged Lin Xiaodi into the house.
Father Lin silently followed behind.
“With that scrawny frame of yours, you’d be going to your death?”
Father Lin stumbled, nearly hitting the doorframe.
Lin Xiaodi was unconvinced but didn’t dare talk back—his sister held absolute authority in the house.
“Wait until you’re stronger.” Lin Jinghong sat with her legs spread wide, arms resting on her knees, in full manly fashion.
Utterly imposing.
“Dad, I extorted five yuan from the Wu family.”
Father Lin: “…You got hurt. It’s what you deserve.”
“Then I won’t be giving this money to you.” She’d go into town tomorrow and buy some meat. Her mouth was so bland it was driving her crazy.
Father Lin smiled affectionately. “Keep it for yourself.”
“Da Ya… ah, no, Jinghong, don’t be too impulsive in the future. Even if you’re strong, it’s easy to end up at a disadvantage.”
To Father Lin’s concern, Lin Jinghong indicated she was completely fine.
In the original book, Lin Jinghong was set to have immense brute strength, and combined with the martial arts she knew before transmigrating, it wasn’t a problem.
By the way, this was a satisfying era novel about punishing scumbags and protecting loved ones. The female lead and male lead were both educated youths who came down to the countryside to join Qingyan Brigade. They arrived in the autumn of ’74, and now it was summer, with just over a month to go.
Lin Jinghong… could be considered a minor supporting character?
Because she kept pestering Du Mingkang at the educated youth point, and Du Mingkang was someone close to the male lead, she got a bit of screen time too.
Oh, but none of it was good screen time.
“Time to eat.” Mother Lin had cooked the meal as fast as she could.
When it was brought to the table, before Lin Jinghong even sat down, she noticed her reflection clearly visible in the basin of porridge.
“…”
Beside it was a small dish of pickled vegetables and a plate of stir-fried potatoes, with barely any oil in them.
Oh, and there was also a boiled egg.
“Your sister hit her head, so this is for her. You two aren’t allowed to be greedy.” She said as she handed the egg to Lin Jinghong.
Lin Xiaodi and Lin Xiaomei shook their heads like rattles, but couldn’t help swallowing their saliva.
An egg.
In this era of not having enough to eat or wear, eggs were the most precious nourishment a farming family could have.
Lin Jinghong didn’t hesitate. She took it, peeled it, and ate it in a few bites, then drank a bowl of thin porridge.
But she still didn’t feel full.
She sighed. This life really needed improving. “Tomorrow, we’ll each have an egg.”
With that, she went back to her room to study the Spatial Dimension.
After a night, she had mostly figured it out. The Mystic Spring could strengthen the body, but it wasn’t that miraculous—it had to be taken slowly.
The land could grow grain, but she had no idea how long the maturation period would be.
She’d find a chance to get some seeds and test it out.
“Jinghong, you rest at home. We’re going to work now. The porridge is in the pot.” Mother Lin called out.
“Got it.”
Lin Xiaomei also headed out. She was going up the mountain today to collect pig feed, which would earn her two work points for the day.
Lin Jinghong slept a bit more and got up around ten. The millet porridge in the pot was just as watery and thin.
Better than nothing, she supposed.