Ye Yu was woken up by the noisy chirping of sparrows outside the window.
Morning light cut diagonally through the cracks of the mud cottage, casting a bright patch of illumination onto the dirt floor.
She lay on the hard brick kang for a moment, letting her mind settle before realizing that this was already her second day in this world.
Her stomach was hollow with hunger, but the two sweet potatoes from the night before had at least given her something to lean on. Compared to the near-fatal exhaustion of yesterday, her limbs had finally recovered a bit of strength.
She flipped over and sat up. As her feet touched the floor, she instinctively stabilized her center of gravity, leaning her shoulders slightly forward to settle her weight before taking a step.
After a night of rest, her balance in this new body felt a little smoother than the day before. Still, she wasn’t fully used to it, and every step made her feel as though her feet were turning outward.
There wasn’t a single grain of rice left in the house; she had to go request a grain advance from the production brigade.
Tucking in the heavily patched coarse cotton shirt and cinching her pant legs tight, she pushed open the creaking, broken door.
As she stepped outside, she took mental note of her gait. Her shoulder sway and stride length had to be considerably larger than in her previous life; shortening her steps made the movement feel awkwardly constrained.
The production brigade yard was a wide, open clearing enclosed by mud walls.
An old wooden table sat against the wall. A few elderly women were huddled at the base of the wall stitching shoe soles, while two or three grown men squatted on the steps, smoking tobacco pipes.
The moment Ye Yu stepped into the courtyard, the chatter instantly died down.
Aunt Wang, who was stitching shoe soles by the wall, was the first to speak. Pausing her needlework, she kept her voice low, yet just loud enough for everyone around to hear: “Yo, isn’t that the Ye kid? Hasn’t shown his face in days—what brings him skulking around the brigade today?”
Big Brother Li, squatting on the step, tapped his pipe against his boot and sneered: “Why else? Stomach’s shrunk flat from hunger, so he’s here to beg for grain again.”
Another woman joined in, shaking her head with a deep frown: “The chief better not lend him another bite! The sweet potatoes he took two months ago haven’t even been deducted from his work points yet! Always wandering around with those outside hooligans—handing him grain is just throwing it away.”
The idle gossip rippled through the air, accompanied by looks of curiosity from some and unrefined disgust from others.
If this had been the original owner, being called out publicly like this would have ended in one of two ways: either shameless, grinning evasion or an explosive, neck-flushed row.
But sitting inside this shell was Ye Yu, who had fought her way through ten years of apocalyptic carnage.
Compared to back-stabbing betrayal or malicious insults traded over half a canned ration in the wasteland, these casual remarks were remarkably mild.
Not a single trace of irritation showed on her face. Ignoring the looks of contempt and cheap amusement around her, she walked straight to the wooden table.
Behind the desk sat the old village chief, Ye Shoushan. Seeing Ye Yu approach, his brows instantly knit together into a tight knot. “Yu, what are you doing here again?”
“Chief, I came to request a grain advance,” Ye Yu said. Her voice carried a trace of weakness, yet she stood razor-straight, devoid of her former greasy, slacker demeanor.
Ye Shoushan slammed the ledger onto the table. “You still have the nerve to open your mouth? The grain you borrowed two months ago is all recorded right here! You spend every day loafing around—how are you going to pay it back?”
The courtyard quieted down a notch as everyone waited for Ye Yu to put on her usual rowdy act.
Ye Yu felt lightheaded from hunger, black spots flashing across her vision, but she remained firmly planted where she stood.
She didn’t bother arguing against the gossip. Looking directly at Ye Shoushan, her tone was quiet and sincere: “Chief, I was muddle-headed and useless in the past. From now on, I’ll show up to the fields on time every single day and stop slacking off. The borrowed grain—I’ll work it off point by point.”
“Uncle Ye, please just lend me enough to stay alive.”
The entire courtyard went still.
The notorious, incorrigible deadbeat was actually admitting his mistakes. What’s more, the words were clear, structured, and entirely unlike his usual shameless ramblings.
Ye Shoushan froze for a moment, examining the young man before him carefully.
The boy was sallow-faced and thin, so starved he could barely hold himself up, yet his eyes were clear and honest—no ducking, no excuses.
When all was said and done, he was still an orphan whose parents had passed early. A soft spot in the old man’s heart gave way, and he let out a long sigh.
“Fine. I’ll trust you one last time. But if you keep loafing around, the brigade won’t spare you a single grain ever again.”
Ye Shoushan turned around, went into the storeroom, and hauled out two small cloth sacks of sweet potatoes.
Handing the sacks to Ye Yu, the rough fabric rasped against her palm, the solid weight settling real and heavy in her hands.
“Thank you, Chief.” Ye Yu took the food without lingering, turning on her heel to leave the brigade yard.
Walking all the way back to her tattered adobe house, Ye Yu turned to look at the long-abandoned mud stove inside. The hearth was covered in a thick layer of dust, and the wood piled in the corner was mostly damp timber.
Back in the apocalypse, she had relied on spatial or elemental powers to heat meals. She had never touched a primitive rural stove in her life.
Gathering a armful of firewood, she tried lighting the fire based on the original owner’s memories.
The damp wood billowed thick, heavy smoke that poured back out of the hearth opening, making her cough uncontrollably as tears streamed down her cheeks.
After a long bout of struggling, she finally got a steady flame burning.
She buried a few sweet potatoes in the embers of the hearth. Before long, a toasted, sweet aroma slowly filled the cramped mud hut.
Peeling away the blackened skin, she took a bite of the roasted sweet potato. Warm and faintly sweet, the heat slid down her throat into her empty stomach, soothing her internal organs bit by bit.
Ye Yu leaned against the mud wall, chewing slowly. In the apocalypse, every moment was spent fleeing or fighting surrounded by zombies.
Yet right now, there was no pursuit, no bloodshed—just sitting peacefully inside a broken hut, eating a warm bite of food.
A life that others found unbearably hard was, to her, nothing short of paradise.
Once full, Ye Yu tried lifting a knee-high stone resting in the courtyard with one hand.
As the stone cleared the ground, the muscles in her arm bulged. Her super-strength was still intact, but due to this body’s abysmal physical condition, she couldn’t even unleash thirty percent of her former power.
She weighed it, adjusted her grip, and lifted it again from a different angle. The directional pull on her shoulder differed slightly from yesterday, so she quietly adjusted her stance, forcing her lower back to bear the weight before setting the stone firmly back in place.
She could sense her healing ability was still there as well, albeit faint. As for her telekinesis and lightning powers, they had vanished entirely—likely the price of transmigration.
It seemed that going forward, she would have to rely on earning work points to keep herself fed.
The next morning, just as the sky was turning pale, the village work whistle sounded right on schedule, echoing across the settlement.
Ye Yu pushed her door open on time. By the time she reached the fields, most of the village’s labor force had already gathered.
No one paid special attention to Ye Yu in the corner, yet everyone was subconsciously keeping an eye on her.
After all, her behavior yesterday—begging for grain at the brigade and sincerely admitting her mistakes—had been far too unusual.
“Look, Ye Yu actually showed up to work on time today.”
“He’s probably just putting on a show for two days to fool the chief. Give it another two days and he’ll be back to his old tricks.”
Subtle whispers reached her ears, but Ye Yu ignored them completely.
Idle gossip was the most useless thing in the world.
Lowering her head, she took the weeding hoe handed to her, walked quietly over to her assigned plot, bent her back, and got to work.
Her movements were unpracticed and far from sleek, but her comprehension was exceptionally sharp. After watching others work for a brief moment, she picked up the rhythm and mirrored it flawlessly.
From slow to fast, she didn’t recklessly rush her progress like an inexperienced novice; instead, she maintained an exceptionally steady and efficient pace.
A plot of land that took others half a day to clear was put in pristine order by her in under two hours.
Only when she occasionally straightened her back to stretch her shoulders did her body exhibit a fleeting second of awkwardness—she still wasn’t completely accustomed to how this frame generated power through its lower back, causing the hoe to strike a tiny fraction off her intended angle.
Unbothered, she adjusted her grip on the handle, and the next swing fell perfectly into place.
Once that section was cleared, the team leader reassigned her to another plot.
The surrounding villagers who had been sneaking glances at her began to wear increasingly subtle expressions.
This deadbeat… really did seem different today.
After a two-hour noon break, the sun reached its peak and slowly began its descent toward the west.
The knock-off bell finally rang.
Slinging her hoe over her shoulder, Ye Yu joined the stream of workers heading toward the village road. Her head was lowered, the damp stray hairs on her forehead sticking to her pale cheeks with sweat.
Suddenly, a wave of commotion erupted from the far end of the road, accompanied by the crisp ringing of a bicycle bell drawing nearer.
“The new educated youths are here! The city youths have arrived!”
The villagers working in the fields immediately stirred, straightening their backs and standing on tiptoe to peer toward the village entrance.
Ye Yu stopped alongside the crowd and looked up.
A group of young men and women wearing clean, tidy clothes and carrying canvas packs walked slowly down the field ridge.
Unlike the villagers in their muddy, heavily patched clothes, these educated youths were pale-skinned, clean, and stood tall, carrying an innate air of urban refinement that stood out sharply against the rustic fields.
At the very front of the group walked Zhao Wenbin, a veteran educated youth who had been stationed in the village for two years. Familiar with the layout, he helped the newcomers carry their luggage while whispering instructions along the way.
Ye Yu stole a single glance before withdrawing her gaze. Turning with the hoe on her shoulder, she made to walk back toward her broken mud house.
She didn’t notice that among the crowd, a young woman wearing a light-colored lapel shirt happened to look up, her eyes wandering in her direction.
The girl had delicate, exquisite features, her hair gently stirred by the spring breeze.
Across the noisy crowd, their eyes met for a fleeting instant.
Ye Yu’s side profile was lean and gaunt, her gaze cool and detached—like a deep, fathomless pool of water, exuding a chilly detachment that was completely out of place amid the bustling fields.
Shen Zhiyi froze for a split second. Before she could get a clearer look, that thin, sharp back carrying the hoe had already turned away, dissolving into the gathering twilight.
Ye Yu walked along the ridge at an unhurried pace.
She didn’t turn back, but perhaps due to the ingrained vigilance from her past life, she felt a gaze lingering on her back—extremely light, yet persisting for several seconds.
Shifting the hoe to her other shoulder, she didn’t break her stride.
Probably just a misconception, she thought.
Turning the corner of the field embankment, she merged completely into the evening shadows.