“Mm… water!” After absorbing the memories, Lin Ruxia felt parched. A bowl was brought to her lips, and she quickly gulped it down. Her eyes slowly opened, and a gaunt, bony face appeared before her.
Th-this… isn’t this the face of that woman’s eldest son from the memories? Lin Ruxia was startled.
“Da Bao?” she asked tentatively. In the countryside, people usually called each other by nicknames.
“Mom, how do you feel? Should we get a doctor?” His whole demeanor was cautious and worried.
“I’m fine! Go out first—I want to be alone for a bit.” Lin Ruxia suddenly closed her eyes and stopped speaking.
“Okay, Mom. Call me if you need anything.” Song Dabao left the room, still concerned.
After he left, Lin Ruxia slowly opened her eyes again.
Oh my god! How did I transmigrate into a novel? And not just any character—but the third daughter-in-law of the Song family, who gave birth to fourteen children, then eloped, was trafficked, abused, and eventually beaten to death?!
Her eyes went blank as she lay on the bed, utterly despairing.
I’m a 25-year-old fresh graduate, a beautiful young woman—and after dying in a car accident, I end up in the harsh 1960s–70s after the founding of the country? I’d rather be a wandering ghost than live in this novel! There’s nothing here, a bunch of kids to raise—and worst of all, I’m already pregnant with two! I’ve never even been in a relationship, and now I’ve skipped straight to childbirth?!
In the end, Lin Ruxia simply closed her eyes, hoping it was all a dream.
But the moment she did, she found herself in a space about fifty or sixty square meters in size, with a small fountain in the center.
“Hello? Is anyone there?” Lin Ruxia called out nervously. There was no response. “Could this be the ‘space’ people talk about in novels?”
She didn’t read many novels—she had only heard about such things from her high school best friend.
Walking out of the room, she saw patches of land planted with various medicinal herbs. Following a path around the back, she suddenly saw something familiar—
The Imperial Capital Mall.
Excited, Lin Ruxia ran toward it, thinking she might be able to return home. But when she reached the entrance, it was completely empty.
She entered through Gate No. 6. Inside were all kinds of shops—gold, silver, watches, and more. As she walked, she passed clothing stores filled with every style imaginable. She remembered this mall had everything from low-end to luxury.
Before she knew it, she had reached the top-floor office area, where she could overlook the entire mall. She recalled coming here with her mother after her eighteenth birthday to see the design and layout.
“Mom, Grandpa is calling you to the lobby!” a voice suddenly rang out from outside.
Lin Ruxia panicked. “What do I do? How do I get out? If I go out, will they treat me like a monster and capture me?” Even though it was already 1976, catching spies was still taken very seriously, and strange things easily sparked rumors.
“I want to go out!” She suddenly remembered what her friend had said—just think it, and you can leave the space.
In the next instant, she was back, sitting on the bed.
Looking around the familiar yet unfamiliar room, and seeing no one else, she finally relaxed.
“Okay, I’ll come out soon.” Fortunately, the original host disliked anyone entering her room, even her own son.
After tidying herself up, Lin Ruxia realized that the original body looked just like her former self—fair-skinned and pretty, 168 cm tall. The only differences were rougher skin, messy hair, and a sickly expression.
The original host actually had decent taste for the era. Because her younger sister Lin Ruxue often wore dresses, after marriage she used her husband’s allowance to buy all kinds of dresses.
Lin Ruxia picked a light green dress from the wardrobe and changed into it. As for the cosmetics—they were low-quality, and she didn’t dare use them.
Opening the door, she saw a short, skinny, dark boy—her third son.
“Sanbao, why is your grandpa calling me? I’m still sick. And what about the two eggs a day we agreed on? It’s bad enough we didn’t have them these past few days—why do only the children of the other branches get to eat?” Lin Ruxia deliberately complained, mimicking the original host’s personality.
“Mom, the production team leader is here too. They said they’re dividing the family,” Song Sanbao said nervously.
“Dividing the family? Why all of a sudden?” Lin Ruxia pretended not to know.
“No idea,” Sanbao muttered, rolling his eyes behind her back. Isn’t it because you have too many kids and don’t work?
When they reached the main hall, it was packed with people—there wasn’t even space to sit. The children were all skinny and dark.
“Oh, the third daughter-in-law is here. Come in, we’ve been waiting for you!” Mother Song, Jiang Qiu, warmly greeted her.
“Mom, why is everyone gathered here? I’m still sick—what’s being discussed?” Lin Ruxia asked as she followed her in.
“The third sister-in-law really is delicate—just a bump on the head and she sleeps for a whole day. And even calling you here took so much effort…” The eldest sister-in-law mocked, but was cut off—
“Enough. Quiet!” Father Song interrupted sternly.
“Third daughter-in-law, we’ve called you here to discuss dividing the family,” he said directly.
“Divide the family? How can we? My ninth, tenth, eleventh, and twelfth children are still so young—how can I manage alone? You’re all bullying me because my husband isn’t home!” Lin Ruxia began fake-crying.
“Who told you to have so many children?” the eldest sister-in-law snapped. “They eat like bottomless pits but don’t do much work!”
“That’s not fair! My first four children have been helping since they were five or six. Even the fifth and sixth gather pig grass to earn work points!” Lin Ruxia argued.
“This was decided by everyone. Whether you like it or not, you’re splitting today,” someone interjected.
“What do you mean everyone? I wasn’t included! And does the fourth daughter-in-law know?” Lin Ruxia pressed.
“That doesn’t matter,” Father Song said impatiently. “We’ll leave a share for the fourth. Whether he’s here or not makes no difference.”
He continued, “You can’t blame them. Since you married into this family, you haven’t worked. And none of your children were raised by you—they’ve all been taken care of by the first and second branches.”
“But—”
“No more ‘buts’! Let’s get this done—we still have to cook later.”
Lin Ruxia shut up. She had to maintain her act—for now.
Father Song laid out the division: basic household items, one shared large pot, and about 500 yuan divided into five shares—one for him, one for each son. Grain would also be split evenly. They would continue living there for now but must move out within a year. Each household must contribute one yuan and twenty jin of grain monthly for the parents’ support.
“Any objections?”
“But I have so many children—what should I do?” Lin Ruxia immediately acted pitiful.
“I know your situation,” Father Song said. “Let the older ones help with the younger ones. If needed, you can send some children here temporarily—but not long-term. Also, we won’t take your husband’s allowance anymore. Use it to raise your children.”
“What? I’m pregnant?” Lin Ruxia pretended to be shocked.
“Yes,” Mother Song said gently. “The doctor confirmed it this morning—almost one month now.”
“Alright, Mom… you must help me then,” Lin Ruxia said.
“Here is the agreement—just press your fingerprints,” the production team leader said.
Afterward, he added, “There’s an estate at the end of the village—about 700–800 square meters, plus bamboo groves and trees totaling around 2,000 square meters. It used to belong to a landlord’s wife. It’s been empty for two years… Are any of you interested?”
“How much?” the eldest brother asked.
“Originally 1,500 yuan. Now 1,000.”
“1,000? That’s outrageous!”
“It’s different—it’s a whole estate,” the leader explained.
“That’s still too expensive,” someone muttered.
“Team leader, could you hold it for a month? I’d like to buy it,” Lin Ruxia said.
“Sure,” he nodded, thinking to himself: This third daughter-in-law isn’t simple…