Su Muqing set aside the half-finished list in her hand and stared at the bread that had returned to its original state—indistinguishable from how it looked before she ate it.
She grabbed one, tore it open, and tentatively took a bite. It tasted no different. It seemed this was what the System called the daily resource refresh.
She began searching around the apartment but found nothing else unusual. To be honest, she wasn’t entirely sure how many supplies she had stockpiled at home. Rice, flour, cooking oil—these were things her workplace distributed during holidays. Often, she was too busy with work and could only eat at the cafeteria, so she naturally had no idea how much was left.
Who cared about these things when supplies were abundant? She’d simply go downstairs to buy more when they ran out.
But now, that wasn’t an option. Su Muqing pulled out another sheet of paper and meticulously listed the quantities of all edible supplies in the house. After reviewing everything, she concluded that the most likely items refreshed today, aside from the bread, were the full rice bucket and the salt jar.
Having spent quite some time in the space, Su Muqing checked her phone and realized it was almost 3 a.m. She put everything aside, left the space, and lay back down in the cramped, stuffy room.
At 6:30 in the morning, the machinery factory dormitory awoke to the blaring broadcast.
Li Jianguo irritably put on his work uniform, while Wang Xiujuan slipped on her sleeves and shouted angrily through the cloth curtain, “Zhaodi! Lazy girl, get up now! Hurry up and light the stove, make breakfast! And wash the clothes from yesterday! Meifeng has morning self-study today—boil two eggs for her!”
Su Muqing put on an obedient expression, softly replying that she understood. She slipped on a faded old smock and walked out with her head bowed.
The kitchen was narrow and cramped. Drawing on the original body’s memories, she deftly poked open the coal stove, placed the kettle on it, scooped out half a bowl of broken rice from the rice jar to cook porridge, and retrieved two eggs from the depths of the cupboard.
These eggs were exclusively for Li Meifeng. Su Muqing herself could only have a bowl of watery porridge, thin enough to see her reflection, paired with pickled vegetables.
As she worked, she couldn’t help but laugh at the foolishness of the original body. Li Meifeng and Li Zhaodi—the names alone made the distinction so obvious. How could she still have held onto any illusions?
Li Jianguo soon returned from outside, bringing steamed buns from the cafeteria. Only then did Li Meifeng emerge, wearing a semi-new dacron shirt, her hair neatly braided into two glossy plaits. She glanced disdainfully at Su Muqing, busy by the stove, and snorted, “Mom, I’m leaving.”
With that, she picked up the boiled eggs and steamed buns from the table and walked out like a proud peacock.
The steamed buns weren’t meant for Su Muqing. Li Jianguo and Wang Xiujuan quickly finished their meals and left for work.
“Clean up the house properly—I’ll check when I get back tonight!” Wang Xiujuan glared at Su Muqing one last time before leaving. “If you slack off, you’ll see what happens!”
With a bang, the door closed.
The timid, submissive expression instantly vanished from Su Muqing’s face. She pressed her ear against the door, listening as the footsteps outside faded away until she was certain the hallway was completely quiet.
Time for action!
With clear purpose, she headed straight into Li Meifeng’s room, where she found Li Meifeng’s homework notebook and a stack of letterhead paper from the steel factory. She had already thought it through last night: to keep this family of bloodsuckers from clinging to her, she had to make sure they had their own problems to deal with first.
Carrying these items into the Small Apartment, Song Ranran made a phone call, asking her to find someone skilled in handwriting imitation to write a few anonymous tip-off letters in Li Meifeng's handwriting, planning to mail them in the afternoon.
Upon receiving the call, Song Ranran grew excited. "Why look for someone to imitate handwriting? There's software for that now! Wait for me to get a membership—it'll be quick!"
Listening to the rapid tapping of the keyboard on the other end, Su Muqing felt that Song Ranran was even more enthusiastic than she was. Indeed, when people are up to no good, they never mind the trouble.
"Done! I had the AI generate several different versions, all with the content you specified. I'll print them on that stationery right away!" Song Ranran acted swiftly.
Seeing her so driven, Su Muqing left the apartment and began searching for the whereabouts of the gold bars at home.
The staff dormitory wasn't large, with only two bedrooms and a living room. She shared a room with Li Meifeng, while the couple occupied the other. Apart from the main door, there were no interior doors in the house, only cloth curtains separating the spaces.
The gold bars could only be in the couple's room. Su Muqing searched through the wardrobe, drawers, and under the bed but found nothing. After a moment's thought, she ran her hands along the newspaper-pasted walls.
Sure enough, she discovered a slightly raised area with loose bricks beneath.
Carefully, she used a small knife to peel back the yellowed, wrinkled edge of the newspaper, revealing the mottled brick wall beneath. Slowly, she pulled out the loose brick, only to find it was half a brick, concealing a cold iron box inside.
Su Muqing took a deep breath and carefully retrieved and opened it. Inside the rusted iron box was a small bundle wrapped in faded red cloth. Just by touching it, she knew the gold bars were inside.
Upon opening it, she counted nine gold bars, each about the thickness of a finger. It seemed they had used one over the years.
Inside the iron box was also a stack of yellowed U.S. dollars, neatly folded. Su Muqing paused. Could it be that her parents weren't from this country?
She initially considered leaving the dollars behind to trick Li Jianguo and his wife but reconsidered. They would surely link the dollars to her parents, which could backfire and harm her instead. So, she took the dollars out as well.
Only then did she notice a letter pressed at the bottom of the iron box.
Su Muqing quickly unfolded the brittle letter paper. The handwriting on it was bold and powerful:
"Comrades Li Jianguo and Wang Xiujuan,
I hope this letter finds you well. Due to circumstances, my wife and I have no choice but to leave Shanghai. Our daughter, Su Muqing, was born on March 18, 1950. We earnestly hope you will take good care of her, ensuring she grows up safely. Enclosed are ten gold bars as support for her upbringing.
Su Wenxuan, Xu Wanqing
September 21, 1950"
Su Muqing's fingers gently brushed over her own name. Finally, she confirmed that her transmigration wasn't entirely without traces. It turned out the original owner shared her name—a name that admired clear skies and yearned for light.
Those who had changed her name to Li Zhaodi were utterly unforgivable!
Though… Su Muqing scoffed. Even after the name change, they still didn't get a son, did they? Some people spend their lives chasing what they can never have.
She folded the letter and placed it back where it belonged, taking only the gold and the dollars. Then, she began ransacking the room and, sure enough, found another hidden stash of twenty Great Unity bills in a wall cavity elsewhere.
The receipts and cash were usually kept in the drawer. Su Muqing had seen Wang Xiujuan use a key to open the drawer and take money to buy groceries. Those were just small change, so Su Muqing was certain she must have hidden the larger bills somewhere she didn't know about.
Now, it all belonged to her.
While searching through things, she felt inside the pocket of a pair of trousers Li Jianguo often wore and pulled out a handkerchief that was clearly a woman's, as it had a few stitches of embroidery on it.
She thought for a moment, then tucked the handkerchief beside their pillows, leaving a corner exposed, ready to watch the drama unfold.