After placing the dirty clothes in the large basin outside, Zhao Ran went back to sleep.
Perhaps because she had napped in the afternoon, Zhao Ran wasn’t particularly sleepy that night. Looking at the three children lying beside her, she began to seriously contemplate her situation here for the first time.
Drawing from her experience reading novels, Zhao Ran tried to communicate with the original host, but nothing came of it. Later, she realized that this was a fictional world—perhaps the original host’s soul had already departed after completing its mission.
Moreover, according to the novel, if she hadn’t arrived, the original host would already be dead. But then again, she hadn’t died before coming here. If she was here now, what had happened to her original body?
No one could give Zhao Ran an answer, but the sight of the dilapidated newspaper-patched ceiling illuminated by moonlight reminded her of the reality: she was here to stay.
Just as Zhao Ran was wrestling with these thoughts, a warm little body snuggled into her arms. Seemingly comforted by her scent, the restless child adjusted their position and soon began to snore softly.
Bathed in moonlight, Zhao Ran gazed at the three children on the kang. Whether it was the lingering emotions of the original host or the ties of blood, her heart softened a little at that moment.
She even wondered: if she were to leave, what would become of these children?
Would they end up in Old Mrs. Yang’s hands, or with their scheming father and stepmother? Hadn’t the novel already provided the answer? Initially, the three children stayed with Old Mrs. Yang, but before they were completely worn down by hardship, Yang Jianjun arrived with the female lead. Seeing the children’s pitiful state, the female lead took pity on them and rescued them from their misery, thereby securing their unwavering gratitude.
So much so that later, even when getting married, the children considered whether it would benefit their younger brother. Eventually, they even neglected their own in-laws to support Yang Jianjun and the female lead’s son, only to end up divorced and disowned by their own children.
If she were merely reading the novel, Zhao Ran would have thought these three children were overly sentimental. But after learning what kind of person Yang Jianjun was, she realized that these foolish girls must have been manipulated by Yang Jianjun and the female lead, just like the original host.
In modern terms, they were undoubtedly victims of emotional manipulation.
At this thought, Zhao Ran’s eyes grew resolute. Her previous life had been meaningless anyway, and now, she had found a new purpose—this didn’t seem so bad.
Since she couldn’t leave, she might as well live well here. Call it defiance if you will—she simply couldn’t stand Yang Jianjun, so she was more than willing to make his life difficult.
As for the original host, Zhao Ran didn’t feel any guilt or obligation to repay her just because she had taken over her body. In Zhao Ran’s view, the original host was already dead—Shensidaoxiao—her will had nothing to do with her.
If she chose to care for the three children, it was simply because she wanted to. If one day, the children ultimately chose to follow the original plot, she wouldn’t feel regret or guilt toward the original host.
Having made up her mind, from this moment on, she was no longer Zhao Ran—she was Zhao Ran.
Forgetting about the possibility of returning, she began planning for the future. First and foremost, she needed to deal with Yang Jianjun.
Divorce was inevitable, but if she divorced, where would she go?
The original host had married into Shitoucun from another village, and she had parents. However, in this era where communication relied solely on word of mouth, the original host never saw her parents one last time before her death.
Did the original host’s parents not love her? That wasn’t the case either—at least in her memories, her father had been quite good to her.
But the original host had a younger brother who was still unmarried. Even in modern times, most people’s mindset remained stuck in the idea that family property was reserved for sons, while daughters belonged to their husbands’ families.
Let alone in this era. Even if she divorced and brought three children with her, the original host’s parents were unlikely to welcome her back to live with them.
Moreover, four people returning meant four mouths to feed. She remembered that the food situation in the original host’s village was even worse than in Shitoucun.
Since they weren’t her family to begin with, Zhao Ran—no, now she was Zhao Ran—naturally didn’t hold any expectations of them.
Besides, Zhao Ran’s household registration was now in Shitoucun. When the land was distributed, she had been allotted one mu and three fen of land. Adding her three children’s shares, that came to nearly five mu.
If she left with the children, wouldn’t this land just benefit Yang Jianjun? She absolutely wouldn’t allow that.
Although staying in Shitoucun after the divorce would have a significant impact on her and the children, in matters like these, the thick-skinned survived. She had even sold aphrodisiacs before—what was there to fear?
It seemed that after the divorce, she would have to find a place to live in the village, depending on whether the village would allocate land to her. Ideally, she could get Yang Jianjun’s house. Not because the house was particularly good, but simply to save herself the hassle of moving around.
Although that idea seemed quite unrealistic.
The house wasn’t the most important issue right now; the most urgent matter was earning money. Fortunately, it was 1983, not 1973 or 1963. Zhao Ran remembered that things were slowly opening up during this time, and it seemed that in some informal markets, setting up stalls was allowed.
Zhao Ran thought perhaps she could sell aphrodisiacs there? After all, nothing else might bring in money as quickly.
However, the immediate priority was to go find Yang Jianjun and transfer the money into her name. Given how he had taken every last cent from her pocket, Zhao Ran believed he was capable of going to the bank to reissue a passbook.
Thinking this, Zhao Ran decided she would go find Yang Jianjun tomorrow. This matter had to be done.
With these thoughts, Zhao Ran drifted off into a hazy sleep.
The next day, Zhao Ran was awakened by an unbearably itchy wound. Instinctively, she wanted to scratch it but suddenly remembered that scratching wasn’t advisable. Yet the itch was so intense that Zhao Ran suspected the wound might be infected.
When she opened the bandage, the wound seemed somewhat unresponsive at first. She measured it with her fingers and realized her earlier feeling was correct—the wound had indeed shrunk by about a finger’s width.
Under normal circumstances, even if a wound healed quickly, it shouldn’t be this fast.
Wait, wasn’t her situation abnormal? Only then did Zhao Ran finally remember that she was different now—her Kongjian had been upgraded. Yesterday, she had even drunk water from the Kongjian’s well!
Could it be because of that? Unsure, she decided to drink a little more!
Just as Zhao Ran was about to enter the Kongjian, she saw three pairs of eyes, made larger by hunger, staring at her. Only then did she realize she wasn’t alone—she had three little ones by her side.
“Are you hungry? How about some dough drop soup for breakfast? I’ll go to the market at noon to buy some things, so we can have proper meals from now on.” Zhao Ran struggled for a long time, still unable to refer to herself as “Mom”—it was just too awkward for her.