Spring of 1990
In a room of a family's house in Linjia Village, Zhao Xiaolian lay on a dilapidated four-poster bed, staring blankly at the blackish-white mosquito net above.
This godforsaken place was a remote mountain village in the 1990s, with a total population of no more than six hundred, consisting of only a few dozen households, all of whom were extremely poor.
If Yan Xin hadn't suddenly transmigrated into Zhao Xiaolian's body, she, a young lady from a prominent family in Beijing, would have found it hard to imagine that such a poor place still existed in the 1990s.
Suddenly hearing a knock on the door, Yan Xin sat up abruptly, the wooden bed creaking from the force of the movement.
Her eyes widened, and the words "a ghost knocking on the door in the middle of the night" flashed through her mind. She felt guilty. She had only been in this world for five days, but she already knew that the original owner, Zhao Xiaolian, had just lost her husband a few days ago.
Hearing a knock on the door in the middle of the night, she strongly suspected it was Zhao Xiaolian's short-lived husband, who had discovered his wife had been sexually assaulted and was coming back to settle scores with her...
"Open the door, open the door quickly!" Yan Xin had just pulled the blanket over herself when a child's voice, tender yet anxious, came from outside the door.
"Who...who are you?" Yan Xin asked, her voice trembling.
"Stop pretending, open the door quickly, I have an emergency. If you dare to delay me, I'll fight you to the death." Lin Xiazhu stood outside the door, her thin, slender hand pounding on the door panel.
The person inside still hadn't opened the door. In the dark night, her small face was so gloomy it looked like it could drip water.
Yan Xin dared not open the door. In the past few days, apart from confirming that she had not been kidnapped or sold to a remote and impoverished place, but had instead transmigrated, she knew nothing else.
She had no memories of the original owner. Honestly, she really didn't know anything and didn't recognize anyone. The little information she had was from overhearing casual conversations between the original owner's relatives.
Well, strangely enough, she actually understood the local dialect. Who knows why.
These past few days, she has been hiding in her room, afraid to go out, lest people realize that she is not the original Zhao Xiaolian and that she will be arrested and disposed of as a monster.
It was also after Zhao Xiaolian's husband died in an accident that her in-laws thought she was too heartbroken and was hiding in her room on a hunger strike. Every day, in addition to saying a few words of comfort at the door, they would also pass food into her room through the window.
I didn't suspect anything, I was just worried that she might do something drastic to commit suicide.
Now that someone is suddenly forcing her to open the door, she panics. Although she has resigned herself to the fact that she has transmigrated in the past few days, she is still fragile and hasn't figured out how to face the people and things around her.
However, Lin Xiazhu didn't have much time to prepare her mentally. Seeing that the person inside was determined not to open the door, she sneered and smashed the lock with a small axe.
Yan Xin shivered, wrapped in a faded floral bedsheet, with only her face showing. Through the dim kerosene lamp, she looked in horror at a thin, short-haired girl who looked no more than ten years old, who strode in with an axe in her hand, looking fierce.
"No, don't come any closer, murder is illegal..." Yan Xin's words caught in her throat. She realized that the other person didn't even spare her a glance, and walked straight towards the dilapidated carved wardrobe without looking at her.
The wardrobe was no longer recognizable as its original color. The wardrobe door creaked as it was pulled open. Lin Xiazhu skillfully reached into the middle of the wardrobe and pulled out a drawer.
Lin Xiazhu somehow found a key, unlocked the drawer, took out a very old wooden box, and then used an axe to split the box open.
With a "whoosh," the contents scattered all over the floor.
It was all money. There were a few ten-yuan and five-yuan bills, mostly two-yuan and one-yuan bills, and some fifty-cent, twenty-cent, and even a few cents in change.
Lin Xiazhu didn't count them; she just scooped them all up and put them in her pocket.
Watching the little girl take the money and leave decisively, Yan Xin's eyes showed a hint of confusion. She hadn't seen the little girl's face clearly the whole time, because the little girl hadn't looked at her directly.
But she guessed that this person might be the original owner's child. The person looked familiar, even though she had no memories of the original owner. Why did she feel like she'd seen her before?
A thought suddenly flashed through her mind, but when she tried to grasp the important information, she found her mind blank again and she couldn't figure out what it was at all.
After hesitating for a few seconds, she draped the floral bed sheet over herself and chased after him. This was the first time she had stepped out of her room. It was pitch black outside, and she couldn't see the way at all. She tripped over the door and fell face-first into the dirt.
Her hands were chafed raw, and tears streamed down her face. Yan Xin, who was in so much pain that she could barely speak, pouted and looked up as if to call for help, but then she saw the little girl carrying a child of about two years old rushing out the door.
Ignoring the pain, Yan Xin got up and chased after the small figure. After chasing for a while, the figure disappeared around a corner, and Yan Xin could no longer see it when she caught up.
"Woof woof woof..." Suddenly, a big yellow dog darted out from the crossroads, baring its teeth and barking fiercely at Yan Xin.
"Ah..." Yan Xin screamed and ran back, not daring to chase after him anymore.
After Yan Xin ran far away, Lin Xiazhu carried her fourth sister Lin Taozi out from the corner, staring at the direction where Yan Xin disappeared with an inscrutable expression, her heart filled with mixed feelings.
She never imagined she would be reborn at the age of eight, let alone that Yan Xin, the arrogant and domineering heiress from a prestigious family, would transmigrate into her mother's body.
Seriously, what a disgrace.
It seems that Yan Xin also transmigrated on the day she was reborn. At that time, her mother, Zhao Xiaolian, fainted from crying because of her father, Lin Shanlai's, death. When she woke up, she had been transmigrated. No one noticed this except for Lin Xiazhu, the reborn person.
It's a long story. Yan Xin was originally a wealthy heiress in the capital. She was only twenty-three years old when she transmigrated, while Lin Xiazhu was already thirty-five.
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