Cao Jie rejoiced too early. Heaven may see all—but only to a limited extent.
Cao Jie—no, she should now be called Yu Chun—looked at the light screen that had suddenly appeared before her. Ink-like characters floated in the air like a dialogue box… in traditional Chinese!
‘Detected that the host’s knowledge level is limited. Loading, please wait—’
Yu Chun stared eagerly at the air, her gaze fixed like a starving wolf. Finally, when her eyes began to ache, the light screen changed—
Pinpin: You are extremely intelligent and perceptive. Within a year, you will surely be able to carve out a new world for yourself.
Hengwu Jun: Don’t indulge her. I advise that since today is your first day here, you should first step out of the courtyard. Start with the elders and sisters-in-law—visit each place and greet everyone—
Zhenxia Old Friend: She’s already injured like this. If she goes out, won’t she just become a laughingstock?
Jiaoxia Guest: Everyone should understand right and wrong. Only by standing firm yourself and not acting unreasonably can you truly hold your ground.
Daoxiang Farmer: In the end, you still have to live here. You have children. Once you raise them well, everything will be fine.
Feng: I say endure. The key is money. If that bastard falls into my hands, I’ll make sure he knows how many eyes the Lord of Horses has.
Yuan: Wuwuwu, why did her parents send her to such a shameful place? Wuwuwu—
Pinpin: Look at the jujube tree sprouting—has it ever refused to grow just because last year’s branches withered? I lost protection from a young age, drifting like fluff, and yet I came to understand—everything in this world grows from “nothing.” If you are willing to start anew, then you are truly a person of great wisdom. As Li Bai said in “To Li Yong”: “The great roc rises with the wind in a single day, soaring ninety thousand miles.” People like us are meant to be rocs soaring in the clouds—how could we be trapped in the mud? Gather your grievances and let us slowly collect information, step by step—
Yihong Young Master: Sister is right!
The screen was flooded with ‘——’, and Yu Chun snapped back to her senses. Two thoughts filled her mind: how to shut off the brain interface… and Lin Daiyu praised me.
‘The brain interface exists in the form of electromagnetic waves. The host only needs to silently repeat “shutdown” three times. PS: Pinpin is indeed Lin Daiyu herself.’
‘Shutdown shutdown shutdown’
Oh my, how embarrassing… but Lin Daiyu is a goddess. Yu Chun suddenly felt full of strength—she could conquer the world—
“Waaah waaah waaah—”
Not a muddy little monkey, but a fair-skinned baby girl with delicate features suddenly burst into loud cries.
Tsk tsk, Yu Chun was amazed that someone as ordinary-looking as herself could give birth to such a beautiful child.
She then looked at the young child sleeping on her lap. He was also very handsome, inheriting her fair skin and refined features, combined with a man’s thick brows, large eyes, and high nose bridge—like a perfectly modeled 3D figure.
What adorable children!
No matter what, she had to settle these two little ones properly. After all, she had taken over their mother’s body. And with a father like that—what if he turned out to be like some infamous internet celebrity’s abusive ex-husband?
If this household only had these two children and that man, they might not survive even a month. At that thought, her heart felt as if pricked by needles.
Hiss—
Could it be that the original body had a heart condition?
Or—
Silicone—
The entire room felt as cold as if the air conditioner were set to fifteen degrees. Yu Chun quickly wrapped herself in the blanket.
The exhaustion from eating, drinking, and mental strain finally took effect. Her consciousness blurred uncontrollably, like being under anesthesia. She felt awake but couldn’t control even a toe. She could only let the baby in her arms feed, excess milk soaking her clothes and leaving a damp mark on the worn bamboo mat. The little one even wet herself and left a small golden mess.
In the end, everything still fell on the most responsible person in the house.
A tuft of hair—no, three tufts. His name was Cao Rong, Yu Chun’s son, only six years old. This small child had experienced far more than others his age.
What he feared most—that his mother would die—did not happen. Thankfully. He would protect his mother and little sister.
Mother had argued for his education.
She had insisted on sending him to the private school his cousins attended, one that had produced successful scholars. She finally stood firm and demanded money from Father—but Father had already lent it all to Uncle’s family.
Father cursed Mother for being wasteful and competitive. In anger, Mother shouted, “All the money went to your brother, but what about the three of us—”
Then everything turned red before his eyes.
From the window, he saw Father’s fist—the same fist that could kill a wild dog—strike Mother’s eye and head. Mother tried to shield the baby in her arms and leave, but Father threatened, “If you dare take her away, I’ll strangle her.”
Then came the struggle for the baby, the shouting—until the baby was thrown onto the bed. Like a beast, Father grabbed Mother by the throat—
It was his scream that alerted Granny Zhu next door. She and her husband rushed over, knocking on the door, finally waking Father from his drunken frenzy.
Father complained that Mother was wasteful. Old Man Zhu took him away, while Granny Zhu saw that Mother could still sit and helped carry Father next door.
Terrified, he bolted the courtyard gate, the house door, the windows—but Mother collapsed on the ground. He didn’t dare cry out, afraid Father would return. He could only watch as Mother lay motionless. He tried to pull her onto the bed, but he couldn’t. So he placed the crying baby in her arms. The baby suckled from one side… and he from the other.
He was suffocating with fear. Only in Mother’s embrace could he breathe. At one point, he couldn’t hear her heartbeat. The baby cried until she fainted. His own vision blurred… but then Mother moved again. Frightened, he hid behind the door and slept there until dawn.
He quietly watched as Mother picked up the baby again and spoke strange words. He remembered many teachings from Granny—when someone dies, you must say “passed away,” not “died.” You shouldn’t enter a room where someone died or where a baby was born. If bread falls on the ground, you must pick it up, preferably eat it…
Mother had been like this since childhood—everyone thought she wouldn’t survive, yet she did. Granny always said Mother was like a great moth—tough and resilient.
Mother was even stronger than Granny. She dared to argue loudly with Grandfather, telling him not to bully Granny. She dared to argue with Father, who could kill a dog with one punch, demanding he work and support the baby. Even Grandfather and Grandmother didn’t dare argue with Father!
He didn’t understand why the same Father who once carried him on his shoulders would hit Mother. It was from them that he learned hugs and kisses… but in the future, he would never drink alcohol.
He hated this place—Chang’an.
Ever since returning from Luoyang, everything had changed. The arguments and fights between his parents grew more frequent. He hated his grandparents—it was they who had called Father back!
The world never bent to his will.
“Ancient Bright Moon Poem, by Li Bai, the Recluse of Qinglian: ‘When I was young, I did not know the moon, and called it a white jade plate. I also suspected it was a mirror from the Jade Terrace, flying in the blue clouds.’”
The young boy, as fresh as a green bamboo shoot, recited in a tender, clear voice like a sharp blade cutting through the gloom, letting sunlight flood into the room.
A gentle breeze stirred the mosquito net. The little baby girl opened her eyes quietly, smiling as she sucked on her tiny foot. Seeing Yu Chun awake, she wriggled happily, melting hearts. Yu Chun no longer resisted and fed her obediently.
“Mother, Mother, I’ve read my lessons three times! Shall I help as your milk pump?”
The boy eagerly climbed onto the bed and began suckling.
Yu Chun looked down. She had trained as a maternity matron and understood exactly what this “human machine” was for. Indeed, in ancient times there were no breast pumps—this was probably the best way to prevent mastitis, but—
So embarrassing!
Yu Chun pushed him away. The boy’s tears immediately streamed down.
No, the little one was fine—same gender—but the older one—
“Mother, don’t abandon me! I’ll be good! I’ll definitely pass the imperial exams and make you an honored lady so you won’t suffer anymore—”
Why was he carrying such heavy burdens at this age?
“You just need to live your own life well. You’re grown now, a young man. It’s shameful to keep doing that!”
Thinking of the life-and-death conflict between his parents, she figured he must have been deeply traumatized. Her eyes stung, her heart ached, and dizziness overwhelmed her.
After a long while, seeing the boy’s pale, frightened face, she felt ashamed. She was an adult, after all. She pulled him into her arms, gently stroking his three tufts of hair—such a funny hairstyle—and carefully asked about the family.
She comforted him as well. His name was Cao Rong, his sister Cao Fang, their father Cao Jie. They had a grandfather and grandmother.
Cao Jie also had a younger brother, married with children, living with their parents in the ancestral home two streets away.
Yu Chun herself had parents too. They had four children, but only she and her younger brother Yu Xiao survived. They lived in the southern district of Luoyang. Her brother was very close to her, and most of the money she earned from copying books had been spent on toys for Cao Rong.
Perhaps sharing the same name as Cao Jie was one reason she transmigrated.
If she had known, she’d rather have changed her name to something else entirely!
After talking for a while, her stomach felt like it was burning—she was starving. Wrapping the sleeping baby girl in a blanket, she tried to go cook.
Before she could leave the room, the baby cried again. Just as she was worrying about how to manage, Cao Rong pushed over a toy-like cart—wooden, with a square frame, four wheels wrapped in leather, a seat, and a smooth board. She placed the baby inside, and he pushed her out into the yard under a tree.
A gentle breeze blew. He took out a small booklet and began reading a fable to Cao Fang.
‘I need to check what dynasty this is later.’
Starting a fire was no challenge for Yu Chun. Growing up in the mountains of southwestern Guizhou, she had cooked with firewood since childhood. Electricity only reached their village after she finished primary school. But water was abundant—clear spring water flowed year-round through bamboo pipes into their home. That sweet water was what made Langjiu famous—
Of course, where there are mountains and rivers, there are also snakes. They had walked miles of mountain roads to school, climbing cliffs and facing poisonous creatures. In those Miao and Dong regions, even Han girls were tough by nature. Women worked, earned money, attended feasts, and honored the gods. Female laborers were common and earned just as much as men.
Women from Yunnan, Guizhou, and Sichuan were always straightforward—bold and strong!
Naturally, such a “tomboy” could cook well. Especially Yu Chun, who aimed to be a qualified maternity matron. Soon, a pot of chive and egg batter soup was ready.
She mixed thick batter with chopped chives, salt, and egg whites, then added two yolks. Spoonfuls were dropped into boiling water, finished with a touch of lard—a warm and nourishing meal.
Just as she was about to eat, the man—Cao Jie—climbed over the wall, carrying yesterday’s clay jar and a large flatbread.
“Have you eaten?” Yu Chun quickly began thinking—