Back then, even though she had been sick and miserable, the thought that she had personally saved Lu Qiming filled her heart with genuine relief.
But never had she imagined that after recovering, when she saw Lu Qiming again—this heartless man—he showed not a shred of gratitude. Instead, he grew even colder toward her than before.
Song Qinghuan could not make sense of it no matter how hard she thought. On the day their official engagement was announced, she could no longer bear his coldness and simply asked him straight out why.
Lu Qiming only glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, letting out a sneer thick with scorn.
“Why? Don’t you already know the answer?”
“All that scheming—rushing over that day to ‘save’ me—wasn’t it all just to force me into getting engaged and married to you sooner?”
Song Qinghuan froze for a moment. Before she could even speak, Lu Qiming waved her off. His face turned as cold as frost as he pulled his gaze away, refusing to look at her any longer.
“Forget it. Things have come to this; there’s no turning back. Let it be. I hope you never regret this.”
His frigid attitude stayed with her throughout their entire ten-year marriage.
Over those ten years, Song Qinghuan replayed the scene of saving him countless times. It had been a chance encounter; she had acted purely to help. She could never understand why Lu Qiming had twisted it into a calculated move, a way to hold his kindness over his head.
Only at the very end of her past life did she finally realize the truth: it all stemmed from one thing—he never loved her.
When you do not love someone, everything they do becomes nothing but scheming and deliberate flattery in your eyes.
Song Qinghuan could not help letting out a cold laugh.
Thank heaven for giving her a second chance to start over.
This time? Forget about saving him—if she did not grab a stick and beat him while he was down, she would already be showing him mercy!
According to the timeline of her past life, she would already be running a slight fever today. By midnight, it would spike high, and tomorrow was the day Lu Qiming would fall into the water.
Song Qinghuan quickly touched her forehead. It did feel faintly warm.
No wonder she had felt weak and sluggish when she slapped those people just now, her whole body feeling heavy and drained.
Tch—what a waste of strength!
She had to shake off this cold and fever quickly. She never wanted to relive that aching, helpless misery again.
Since this water seemed to work, Song Qinghuan scooped up more and drank it greedily.
Moments later, a wave of unprecedented ease washed over her. Her head felt clear, her vision bright, and when she moved her limbs, her entire body felt light and revitalized.
She checked her forehead again and pressed her fingers to her pulse. Her skin was cool, her pulse strong and steady—completely normal.
She had healed without medicine, in the blink of an eye!
Song Qinghuan was stunned. She could not help wondering what on earth was in this spring water—how could anything have such miraculous effects?
If this was real, she could avoid all the miseries that lay ahead!
Lost in thought, she glanced to the side and noticed a sizable breach cut into the edge of the pond. Attached to it was something that looked like a valve, connected to a narrow irrigation channel.
Just as her gaze fell on it, the valve clicked open with a sharp sound. Spring water gushed out, flowing steadily along the channel.
Song Qinghuan followed the stream with her eyes and lifted her head—only to see a stretch of farmland ahead.
The soil was deep black, made even richer and glossier by the spring water. Even at a glance, she could feel the boundless vitality it held, as if anything planted here would flourish beyond measure.
Just as she had guessed, the few stalks of licorice and wolfberry growing along the edge were thriving beautifully.
The licorice had broad leaves, its purple blooms brighter and fuller than ordinary ones. When she gently parted the foliage, she found its roots were twice as thick as normal.
The wolfberry berries beside it were plump and vividly red. From her experience, a single ordinary wolfberry bush bore between five hundred and seven hundred fruits at most—but this one held more than four times that number, every single berry flawless and perfectly formed, as if carefully hand-picked.
In her spare time, she had always enjoyed growing herbs and flowers, though she had only ever had space for a few pots at home.
A sudden, overwhelming urge to fill this land with all kinds of plants swelled in her heart.
Overjoyed, she looked farther ahead—but her view stopped at this small plot, roughly half a mu in size. Beyond that lay a thick, misty wall, blurring everything beyond.
The moment she saw it, she knew instinctively: this was the current boundary of this space.
This land was all hers to cultivate.
Song Qinghuan smiled with delight.
It was more than enough—half a mu was already so much bigger than her few pots. If she planted herbs here and watered them with this spring, would their potency be stronger than ordinary ones?
Pushing her excitement aside for now, she rose to explore further.
Following the edge of the field a few steps ahead, she came upon two single-story houses standing side by side. They were modest in size, each roughly a hundred square meters, with doors at the center and windows on either side.
She hurried forward to take a closer look—only to find the windows shrouded in the same hazy mist as the boundary wall. Even pressing close, she could see nothing inside.
Stepping back, she noticed a rectangular wooden sign hanging to the right of the main door:
[This space requires 100 points to unlock.]
Points?
Song Qinghuan suddenly remembered—when she had slapped Zhao Yufang and the others earlier, that voice in her head, the “Slap System,” had told her she had earned points. She recalled getting a hundred points for the very first slap, and several more since then. Her total must be more than enough.
But how did she redeem them?
The thought had barely crossed her mind when a translucent rectangular screen appeared in the air:
[Confirm spending 100 points to unlock the cottage?]
Below the text were two framed options: [Yes] [No].
She had more than enough points, so Song Qinghuan chose [Yes] without hesitation.
An invisible ripple of energy swept past the cottage. Song Qinghuan watched in awe as the mist covering the windows faded like melting snow, turning clear and vanishing completely—revealing everything inside.