Glancing down at all the items she had just stored in her Space, Liang Qiaoqiao felt the harvest was still too meager.
After working all night, the collected items only occupied a small corner.
It hardly compensated for the loss of sleeping through the cold night and braving the bitter wind.
Liang Qiaoqiao was somewhat displeased.
Turning her gaze toward Chen Laoer’s courtyard, she noticed two old trees planted there. Though their leaves had all fallen, their frames were substantial.
She immediately activated the Appraisal Function: [Beep, one 55-year-old carambola tree and one 48-year-old longan tree identified. Total of 285 points acquired.]
Liang Qiaoqiao: Well now, these are valuable old trees—the kind that even bear edible fruit.
So why hesitate?
Taking advantage of Chen Laoer’s family was an opportunity not to be missed. Hadn’t the original host and Chen Pozi suffered enough bullying over the years?
She needed to reclaim what was owed, with interest!
Without batting an eye, Liang Qiaoqiao directly stored the trees, roots and soil included.
Hmph, if her own courtyard had no trees, why should the Little White-Eyed Wolf’s family have any in theirs?
A family should be neat—perfectly uniform.
Only after confirming that there was nothing left in Chen Laoer’s home worth her attachment did Liang Qiaoqiao turn and stride away.
As for how the little white-eyed wolves would react upon waking tomorrow to discover the dismal state of their home—she couldn’t be bothered to care.
No one would ever connect it to her anyway.
Even if her persimmon tree had mysteriously vanished from her courtyard, given her long-standing history of being bullied by Chen Laoer’s family, it was unlikely anyone would link the two incidents.
Bracing against the cold wind, Liang Qiaoqiao returned home, securely closed the courtyard and house doors, and immediately burrowed under the covers.
It was too cold and too late; she couldn’t be bothered to examine the night’s gains by the light of the kerosene lamp.
After all, everything was safely in her Space—she could look anytime.
Besides, with such meager pickings, why waste more time?
But before blowing out the lamp, Liang Qiaoqiao instinctively glanced at the points bar. o(￣︶￣)o… The points gain wasn’t bad.
In just one night, she had managed to accumulate nearly 600 points.
Acceptable—just barely. At least this bout of enduring the bitter wind wasn’t in vain.
What delighted her most, however, was that combined with the points saved after reaching Level 2 during the day, it was enough for her to level up again!
Liang Qiaoqiao promptly clicked the upgrade icon of the Treasure Appraisal Space with a smile, and soon a line of golden text appeared: [Space will soon reach Level 3. Considering this upgrade requires 8 hours, the Space will be temporarily closed.]
Liang Qiaoqiao: …
Such a big commotion?
The first two upgrades were quick—why did the third one take so long?
Could it be that this upgrade would bring her an even greater and more amazing surprise?
Watching the stone in her mind spin faster and faster, Liang Qiaoqiao withdrew her consciousness and paid it no further mind.
Eight hours—she could do plenty of things. Why stare at that wretched stone and risk dizziness?
This late at night was perfect for sleeping.
By the time she woke up, the Space should be nearly upgraded, right?
Removing her outer clothes, Liang Qiaoqiao blew out the kerosene lamp, lay down, and went off to meet the Duke of Zhou.
Early the next morning, when Liang Qiaoqiao awoke, the dawn at the horizon had just begun to shed a sliver of light.
The closer it got to the Lunar New Year, the colder the weather became. With morning frost clinging to every branch and blade of grass, the biting chill felt especially piercing.
Without even having breakfast, Liang Qiaoqiao carried a basket, lifted a torch, and trod over the frost and cold dew as she made her way toward the foot of the mountain at the village’s end.
Her ritual of delivering fire and food was measured by shortening distances over time—she didn’t need to reach the gravesite every time.
Village elders had told her that by the final offering, she would only need to go as far as the village entrance.
Watching the warm breath from her lips and nose turn into puffs of white vapor that vanished into the air, Liang Qiaoqiao shivered and muttered to herself, “When I go to the county for the college entrance exams, I’m buying two sets of padded clothes!”
Though she wasn’t exactly wealthy now, with the survivor benefits sent by the military and the money and coupons she’d taken from Chen Laoer’s family, she figured she could afford two sets of cotton-padded clothing from this era.
Once the police finished investigating Chen Laoer’s family’s case, they might even help her secure some additional compensation.
Winters in the southern region often brought sunshine, but the sun’s warmth at this time of year was feeble.
By the time Liang Qiaoqiao returned from the mountain, warmed from the walk, the sun had just begun to rise, glowing red like a marinated egg yolk hanging temptingly at the horizon.
Staring up at the sky while swallowing back saliva, she quietly made plans in her mind.
After the first-week memorial, when she went to the county for the exams, her first stop would be a restaurant for a proper meal.
As someone from the future who’d grown picky about meat, she never imagined she’d time-travel to the 1970s and end up longing for pork belly and braised pig’s head.
Back home, she headed straight to the kitchen.
Her stomach growling with hunger, she decided to whip up something tasty to reward her taste buds.
In the three days and two nights since her arrival, she hadn’t eaten anything decent—her palate felt practically numb.
After the funeral, because of the cold weather, villagers had intentionally left her an extra half-pot of tofu rice, which kept well.
But with her high energy expenditure and hearty appetite, she’d finished the leftovers last night.
Starting today, she’d have to put effort into cooking for herself.
In her previous life, takeout had been ubiquitous. Though Liang Qiaoqiao wasn’t favored at home, she’d never gone hungry.
And because her parents feared she’d waste ingredients, they rarely let her near the stove.
Unless both were out, she hardly ever handled fresh groceries—though she’d certainly done her share of clearing tables, washing dishes, wiping cookware, and cleaning.
All things considered, Liang Qiaoqiao’s cooking skills were rudimentary: she could manage to cook things through without starving.
As for flavor? Let’s just say she could stomach her own cooking.
Others? She’d never concerned herself with that—it wasn’t her responsibility anyway.
Now, stranded in this remote mountain village with no one to cook for her and no takeout, she had no one to rely on but herself.
Embracing the truth of “self-reliance leads to plenty,” she resolved to find ways to feed herself.
To save time, and with limited ingredients on hand—plus the dietary restrictions during the mourning period—Liang Qiaoqiao decided to simply cook a pot of sweet potato congee.
At the very least, she could handle this classic rural staple.
She had no shortage of sweet potatoes—two large piles were stacked in the corner behind the kitchen door.
As for rice grains, there was still a bit left at the bottom of the jar, enough to cook one meal.
According to the original owner’s memories, mixing these two ingredients together and cooking a small pot of porridge would likely be enough to last her until tomorrow.