Looking at the sun-dried, stiff cotton quilt covering her body, the two children slept comfortably. Yu Chun, however, stared blankly at the gray-yellow bed curtain. From time to time, moths fluttered against the kerosene lamp, and the thin fabric did nothing to block the constant buzzing of mosquitoes.
How was this family supposed to survive?
Aside from Cao Jie—no, even Cao Jie no longer had work. War was about to break out. He couldn’t leave home; guarding against thieves wasn’t a joke.
What skills did she even have?
In this era, how could there be a shortage of maternity matrons? Those in wealthy households were all bonded servants, no safer than her current situation.
Her education? Her identity as a woman? Even becoming a server in a restaurant would be impossible!
And who said being a server was easy? In this era, the requirements for a waiter were probably as demanding as admission to a top university.
Hadn’t dramas already explained that?
So what could she do?
“Boot up, boot up, boot up.”
Leave professional matters to professionals.
“Chun: May I ask what kind of work I can find here?”
“—”
The long silence left Yu Chun speechless.
“Baoyu: Don’t be anxious. You are well-read and knowledgeable, ten times more capable than the retainers in our household. If you were in the Jia residence, I would certainly recommend you for a clerical post. Wouldn’t that be better than struggling outside?”
“Wang Xifeng: Pfft. With her reaction? She’s nothing more than a country girl. Not even comparable to Ping’er, let alone Xiaohong—just fit to be a rough kitchen maid.”
“Daiyu: Sister, don’t mock her. When one prospers, all prosper; when one suffers, all suffer. If Ah Chun becomes an official someday, wouldn’t we also get to see more of this world?”
“Baochai: Indeed. The thought of a woman rising to power excites me as well.”
“Baoyu: The sisters speak wisely. I’ve always said that if given the chance, you would all be heroines no less than men!”
Yu Chun felt a little relieved, as if she could sense their gazes upon her.
How had she not thought of this? As someone who had transmigrated, even if she couldn’t dominate the world like a typical male protagonist, she could at least take control of her small household.
“Wang Xifeng: Still daydreaming? Which of those web novel heroes wasn’t a determined specialist? Which heroine wasn’t exceptionally beautiful? And you—do you really think you compare?”
“Chun: Neural system, do I have no rights at all?”
It could even read web novels she had never spoken about. This wasn’t some basic system—it was advanced. And in her era, privacy was already protected—
“Neural System: Based on user preference, disable information-sharing permissions. Confirm?”
“Wang Xifeng: With that brain of yours, is it even worth closing? There’s no turning back once you draw the bow—think carefully.”
If they were in the same space, Yu Chun could almost see Wang Xifeng picking her teeth in disdain.
Her confidence faltered. Harsh as it was, Xifeng spoke the truth.
“Chun: No. If one prospers, all prosper; if one suffers, all suffer. You want to use my body, and I want to rely on your knowledge to survive. The better I live, the more you’ll experience. Why restrict information sharing? How many of you are there?”
“Please select whether to disable mental control authority—”
Having grown up in the information age, Yu Chun’s mind echoed with years of promotional slogans.
“Is disabling control authority mutual? Can I choose individuals or must it be all?”
“Disabling control authority is mutual and selective. Please make your choice. This option can only be selected once before upgrade. Countdown: 5, 4, 3—”
“Shut down! Shut down!”
For once, Yu Chun made a smart decision.
Only now did she truly understand what this “neural system” was—essentially a higher-dimensional artificial intelligence. It could not only communicate like messaging apps but also control her brain. If she didn’t close it, would she still be herself?
If left open, with minds like Wang Xifeng’s, she would become nothing more than their pawn, living the life they wanted. Why hand over her life to something like AI?
If she closed it, the system would be nothing more than a chat group.
But her life was her own—
“Boot up, boot up—”
“2—”
“Close it, close it!”
The world fell silent.
“Chun: I’m sorry, everyone. I just want to decide my own fate.”
Silence.
Yu Chun blushed, stood up to wash, and began thinking about how to earn more money.
Being a server was impossible. Even selling tofu wouldn’t work. With war approaching, she could only be a housewife—a lowly fate.
“Daiyu: Ah Chun, you must not speak so bluntly in the future. Frankness is not always praise. As you once believed, rights and responsibilities go hand in hand. Though we wish to see this world through you, we cannot leave the spiritual jade—what joy would that bring? As for your body, we have already experienced worldly affairs and do not wish to be entangled in karma.”
Thankfully, control had been disabled. She trusted her goddess, but not the others. Wang Xifeng had already overridden her control several times—if that continued, would she end up trapped instead?
“Chun: I will remember your words.”
Yes—frankness was not always a virtue. Why say everything outright and offend everyone? She could be more tactful.
They should have been her support. Her own mind wasn’t particularly sharp, and in this era, even literacy was a luxury. With the original owner’s messy life, did she want to die again?
Thankfully, Daiyu was kind.
“Daiyu: Do not impose on others what you do not desire. Since you chose to disable control, you must work hard—writing, needlework, accounting, cooking, medicine, martial arts. These are all essential skills for survival. You must rely on yourself.”
“Chun: Thank you. Please teach me more—I’ll start now.”
A goddess was still a goddess—Lin Daiyu.
“Daiyu: Do not say that. Life is but a journey; lights guide the traveler home. Guard the moon in your heart and stay true to yourself. Given your situation, cooking is manageable. Better to learn writing from Cao Rong and focus first on needlework—practice stitching neatly. When peace returns, making handkerchiefs or clothes could be a livelihood. As for weaving—”
“Baochai: Sister Lin is right. Basic weaving isn’t difficult—even foreigners learned it in the Tang dynasty. Ah Chun may lack skill but learns quickly. With practice, she can manage. The hard part is saving money for a loom—it costs about twenty strings of cash, enough to buy a maid. I noticed a sack of nearly twenty jin of pepper in the kitchen. That might be exchanged for money, but in wartime, such valuable goods should be sold only when peace returns.”
“Chun: Pepper?”
“Daiyu: Sister Bao is absolutely right.”
“Chun: How should it be stored?”
“Baochai: Seal it in an earthen jar. But in chaotic times, be careful where you hide it. Cao Jie likely knows about it.”
“Wang Xifeng: Hmph. That man either got drunk and messed up or is just pretending. Just say it was stolen tonight.”
“Baoyu: Heh, better to bury it under the yard—beneath the chicken and dog waste pit.”
“Li Wan: Cao Jie doesn’t seem overly stingy. Just bury it—pepper on top, wheat below. He’ll only suspect thieves.”
“Chun: I’ll follow all your advice!”
Yu Chun couldn’t sleep anymore. As for deceiving Cao Jie—she wasn’t the original wife who had been beaten to death. As long as she survived and took care of the children, she had done her duty.
She got to work immediately. Under the moonlight, her swollen face moved busily. Thankfully, the soil was soft and the shovel sharp. After an hour of digging, guided by them, she made a hole over a meter deep from the side, buried the jar, scattered the soil into the vegetable patch, and quickly restored the bricks.
She collapsed in the room, gulping down water, her hands still trembling.
Thank goodness for the curfew. Thank goodness for the brick floor. She even heated water, washed herself, and poured the used water over the dug area—no trace remained. Perfect.
The moonlight was cool like water. Sitting under the tree, Yu Chun gazed at the moon. The cold light fell on the eaves, and occasional breezes carried faint sounds of cats in heat, masking the movements of neighboring households.
Next door lived two elderly people who slept early. Only distant sounds of cats and dogs fighting could be heard.
The chickens huddled in their coop. The black dog in the yard lay with its paws crossed, occasionally glancing at her, licking its tongue as if savoring the taste of chicken bones. Its round eyes and drooping brows made it look almost comical. Yu Chun chuckled, and the dog wagged its tail.
“Waaah—”
Cao Fang woke up. Yu Chun rubbed her arm, took a deep breath—starting from nothing, she had no choice but to push forward.
As she fed Cao Fang, she tried to look at a book and recognize a few characters, but exhaustion and pain overcame her. Holding the child, she fell asleep, still wondering—had she locked the door?
No—she hadn’t locked it, only fastened it. She resolved to place a stool against it next time. It felt far too unsafe.
With that thought, she drifted off.
As for livelihood… for someone who knew neither labor nor farming, the only option was to start from scratch.