Chapter One: A Gentle Warmth Across Time and Space

The morning sunlight bathed the earth, and wisps of smoke rose from scattered village houses along the river. Cicadas, perched in the trees, began their sporadic chorus, marking the start of another day for the villagers.

“Sigh!” A girl of fourteen or fifteen, with a delicate face, sat on the doorstep gazing up at the sky, letting out a gentle sigh. Ever since she’d arrived in this strange place, her dreams had grown bizarre: unfamiliar women, a man whose face was blurred but whose presence stirred her heart, and streets filled with creatures resembling zombies. All these things, so utterly different from the world she once knew, flooded her mind at once. What on earth was happening?

“What kind of place is this? No electricity, no network signal… Where have I ended up?” She stopped speculating about her dreams, tugged at her patched homespun clothes, and frowned. She looked up at the brilliant blue sky, drew in a deep breath, then resumed her battle against the smart device on her wrist.

“Pfft… It still won’t turn on!” After a long while, Du Yun, frustrated, leaned against the doorframe as if all her strength had drained away. Behind her stood three mud-brick rooms, old and worn; even the thatched roof looked sparse and feeble.

“Even though I know I might have traveled through time, it’s still hard to believe so easily!” Du Yun squeezed her eyes shut. She’d been here for half a month, and no matter how she tried, she couldn’t make sense of why, while logging into the SkyNet, she suddenly blacked out and awoke in this place.

Du Yun tugged at her clothes again. The thick, rough homespun fabric was stifling. She glanced at her slender wrist. As a struggling novelist who’d read countless stories, Du Yun was quite convinced she’d crossed over, and by professional terms, she had transmigrated in spirit—landing in a rural village reminiscent of China in the 1970s or 80s.

The original owner of this body was also called Du Yun, but unlike the solitary Du Yun of 3016, this Du Yun had a large family of ten or so members. As far as Du Yun could guess, she’d ended up here because of a massive lump on the back of the original’s head—enough to be fatal, though whether it was the result of a quarrel or a fall was unknown.

“Is this a story about farming and getting rich?” Du Yun fiddled with the bracelet-like device on her wrist, still puzzled as to why her smart brain had followed her through the transmigration.

“If only the smart brain would start up…” Though she was a novelist whose works rarely succeeded, she’d read plenty of transmigration and farming novels. Gourmet food, beautiful clothes, opening factories—no matter the trope, her smart brain was packed with endless resources, if only it could be used.

“You wastrel! It’s just breakfast, why are you scooping so much cornmeal? And eggs? Are you trying to eat the family out of house and home?” An elderly but vigorous voice rang out from inside the mud-brick house, followed by the sounds of pots and pans being slammed. Du Yun knew this voice belonged to the original owner’s grandmother—the matriarch of the Du family, the true ruler of their large household.

“Mother… Xiao Yun’s head is injured, she’s still weak, she needs good nourishment…” A timid defense came from a woman in her thirties or forties, the original Du Yun’s mother. Her hands gripped her apron tightly, her voice barely audible.

“Hmph! I’m always indebted to you lot!” Grandmother’s voice was full of indignation. After glaring at Du Yun’s mother, she turned into the house. Moments later, she returned with an egg, shoved it into her daughter-in-law’s hand, and grumbled, “Here, just this once! When Xiao Yun’s head is healed, there’ll be no more eggs for her!”

Du Yun’s mother wiped away tears at the corner of her eyes, quickly cracked the egg into a bowl, and steamed an egg custard.

Sitting at the doorway, Du Yun couldn’t help but chuckle at her grandmother’s gruff but soft-hearted nature. For days, she’d insisted it was “just this last time,” yet when it came time to cook, Du Yun could count on getting an egg every few days.

Du Yun instinctively touched the back of her head, feeling the fist-sized lump. After ten days, it had subsided considerably, but it still hurt enough to make her gasp for air. Yet the smile never left her face.

In truth, crossing over wasn’t so bad. She no longer faced a cold, empty room alone; meals and sleep weren’t solitary affairs anymore. No longer did she rely solely on her smart brain and SkyNet to pass the time. Though life was poor, she had companionship and affection. Even if some things were less than ideal, they weren’t so hard to endure.

“Yun, breakfast’s ready!” As Du Yun was lost in thought, her mother had finished steaming the egg custard and quietly brought it to her, eyes full of tenderness.

“Mom…” Du Yun gazed at the woman before her, only thirty or forty, yet appearing at least five years older than her age, and felt a pang in her heart. Having grown up in an orphanage, she never knew parental love. Her longing for family was endless. Now, she had a mother, a father, brothers and sisters—it was a joy unlike any other.

“If only this family weren’t so poor, it would be perfect.” Du Yun silently ate the egg custard, marveling at her good fortune. Her mother watched her begin to eat, wiped her hands on her apron, and returned to the kitchen to prepare breakfast for the rest. Though simple, breakfast for a dozen people was no easy task.

Du Yun watched her mother go inside, picked up her half-eaten egg custard, and headed for the backyard, where several children waited expectantly.

“Hurry, eat it while it’s warm!” Du Yun handed out the egg custard. The children’s eyes sparkled as they took the bowl, sharing it in turn, each savoring a small mouthful, laughing and giggling together.

Seeing her younger siblings, Du Yun’s heart grew lighter. She patted their little heads; though they were skinny, they were all adorable bundles of joy. Once they’d finished the custard, she took the bowl and led them back inside.

Breakfast had begun, and the whole family would soon head to the fields. Yet all they had was a thin cornmeal porridge. They lived in cramped, low mud-brick houses—hardly spacious or comfortable. Du Yun’s heart ached with every glance.

She secretly resolved to work hard and earn money, first to fill their bellies, then to build a big house. One day, the whole family would live together in comfort, and when she was grown, she’d find a handsome husband and have a brood of chubby children.

Du Yun drank her porridge, daydreaming happily—until, by accident, a drop dripped onto her lap and she froze in place.

Good grief, her body was already fourteen, yet still… flat as a board! Well, she’d have to add another goal: work hard to boost her combat power!