“Woo—”
A long, heavy whistle suddenly tore through the last darkness before dawn. The sound was deep and oppressive, carrying a weight that was hard to describe, spreading far and wide across the still night.
The green train lay on the tracks like a massive steel dragon, gently rocking with the clanging “clang-clang” of the rails. Su Wanning moved forward with the crowded passengers, struggling toward the train car. Around her were other young people about her age, each wearing a bright red flower pinned to their chest, faces glowing with excitement and hope, chattering incessantly.
“I heard it’s freezing up in the Northeast—winter can literally peel off your skin!” a boy frowned, worry etched on his face.
A girl beside him immediately chimed in, eyes sparkling with anticipation: “What’s there to fear? We’re going to help build the country. A little cold is nothing! Who knows, maybe we’ll make something of ourselves there!”
Su Wanning didn’t respond, quietly moving along with the flow of people. After much effort, she finally squeezed onto the train. A mix of sweat, the scent of freshly pressed new clothes, and the melancholy of farewell hit her like a wave, almost making her wrinkle her nose. The carriage was chaotic—people everywhere, luggage and parcels piled high, leaving hardly any space to stand.
“Excuse me, please let me through!” she whispered, carefully making her way down the narrow aisle. Finally, she found her seat by the window, quickly stowing her large parcels on the overhead rack. Only then did she breathe a sigh of relief and settle in.
Then, revolutionary songs blared through the carriage, interspersed with rousing slogans and the occasional suppressed sob. These sounds intertwined, transforming the car into a lively, noisy little world. Su Wanning watched the young “sent-down” youth around her, like a quiet outsider quietly blending into the commotion.
As the night wore on, the energy gradually waned. Most of the youths leaned against their seats, carrying a mixture of confusion and hope for the future, slowly drifting off to sleep. The once-bustling carriage was now filled only with the steady “clang-clang” of the moving train and the occasional soft snore.
Su Wanning, however, felt no sleepiness. Her stomach rumbled quietly, but in the silence of the carriage, it sounded unusually clear. She glanced around, ensuring no one was watching, and carefully took out a steaming meat bun and a thermos of water from her cloth satchel.
The bun had been bought the day before, at a street stall with a long queue. Somehow, she had found herself in line as well—perhaps fate had nudged her toward it.
She took a bite, and the tender, juicy filling exploded in her mouth, releasing a rich, savory aroma that filled her senses. It was a taste she hadn’t experienced in years. She couldn’t help but take another large bite, devouring it quickly until the bun was completely gone.
Leaning back against her seat, she sighed in satisfaction. This was the first truly filling meal she had eaten since arriving in this world. Every bite carried the taste of freedom and a new beginning, letting her truly feel that she had finally left her past suffering behind.
Closing her eyes, her mind drifted to the magical space she had discovered. Ever since finding it, she had spent every spare moment exploring it. Everything in that space amazed her. It wasn’t just an endless supply of resources—it also had fertile soil where seeds could be planted and quickly yield crops.
For the first time, Su Wanning had a clear and concrete plan for her future. She was heading to the Hongqi Farm. Though remote and resource-scarce, it was also adjacent to the Changbai Mountains, home to the richest medicinal herb resources in the country. To most, it was barren and desolate land—but to her, it would be the perfect starting point for her career.
“I’ll use the space to grow the finest medicinal herbs. Then, using the ancient prescriptions in that old medical book, combined with my medical knowledge beyond this era, I’ll create powerful medicines. I’ll make a fortune and finally take control of my own destiny,” Su Wanning thought to herself, eyes shining with determination. Of course, she had also tucked some premium herb seeds from the space, along with a few unobtrusive medical books from her father’s medicine chest, into the bottom of her parcels.
Her thoughts inevitably drifted to her supposed fiancé, Lu Zhanxiao. The engagement had been arranged by her late father, Su Zhenping. He had once told her with a smile full of trust, “Wanning, Zhanxiao is my old friend’s son. He’s steady and reliable. He’ll take good care of you in the future.”
Su Wanning still remembered her father’s eyes then, full of expectation and trust. But now he was gone, and those words weighed heavily on her heart.
“Yuling, I heard your Wanning has a rural fiancé?” Mrs. Wang’s voice was full of curiosity.
Su Yuling immediately raised her tone, disdain clear on her face: “Of course! I don’t know what her father was thinking, arranging such a marriage. That man’s just a retired wounded soldier, farming at a remote farm. What future could he possibly have? If Wanning marries him, she’ll suffer, maybe not even get enough to eat!”
Hearing this, the girl in the original body felt a sharp sting in her chest. She bit her lip tightly, nails digging into her palm, holding back her tears. She didn’t understand why her mother always spoke so disparagingly of this marriage.
Lu Zhanxiao… Su Wanning silently repeated the name in her heart. She knew nothing about him—what he looked like, what his personality was, gentle or hot-tempered? These questions hung over her mind like a dense fog.
Regarding this so-called engagement, Su Wanning held no expectations. Her choice to go to Hongqi Farm was solely because it was the only place she could go to escape Su Yuling’s control.
“No one will ever control my life again,” Su Wanning vowed silently. She gazed at the scenery rushing past the window, eyes firm and resolute.
As the train moved north, the scenery gradually changed. At first, the delicate waterways and houses of Jiangnan unfolded—rivers crisscrossing, white walls and black tiles scattered among the fields, like a watercolor painting. But as the train advanced, these quaint waterside scenes disappeared, replaced by the vast northern plains.
The plains stretched endlessly, farmland as far as the eye could see, dotted with occasional solitary trees standing starkly in the open. The distant horizon met the earth in a wide expanse, the sunlight casting a golden glow over the land, grand and majestic compared to the gentle beauty of Jiangnan.
The two days and nights of bumpy travel might have been exhausting for others, but for Su Wanning, they were nothing. Nourished by the spirit of the “Spiritual Spring” in her magical space, her energy improved day by day, with no sign of fatigue.
Finally, on the third morning, the train broadcasted the station name she had been eagerly awaiting: “Next stop, passengers preparing to disembark…”
Su Wanning’s eyes snapped open, instantly bright with anticipation for her new life. She stood, efficiently retrieved her parcels from the luggage rack, and, following the other sent-down youth, slowly made her way toward the train door.
Stepping off the train, a sharp, icy wind mixed with the scent of black earth struck her face, like countless tiny needles piercing her bones. Su Wanning instinctively wrapped herself tighter in her coat and inhaled deeply.
The smell of soil was strong, with a faint hint of grass—a scent of freedom, a scent signaling the start of a new life. She couldn’t help but think, “Finally… this is the beginning of my new life.”
“Let’s go register at the commune,” a fellow youth traveling with her patted her shoulder, pulling her back from her thoughts.
Su Wanning nodded, a resolute smile on her face, and followed the group. Her steps were light and purposeful, each one taking her toward a future filled with hope.