Zhang Hongmei had been lying on the kang (a heated brick bed) for a whole day. Her stomach was rumbling, her lips were dry and chapped, and her mouth was parched. But she was conflicted. Did she really want to live in the place of this young girl? Although they shared the same name, could she really survive alone in 1958? Although she also came from the countryside and had done farm work, she had lived a life of luxury for 30 years. The thought of a life of toiling in the fields made her want to die again.
This little girl's family owns five mu of land, including three mu of mountain land. Since she's young, the village elders and uncles would only help with her planting after they finished cultivating their own land. Even so, Xiao Hongmei was already very grateful. However, this is a mountainous area where only corn, millet, soybeans, sorghum, and sweet potatoes can be grown. Wheat is rarely planted, mainly because the harvest is too poor, and rice is even less common. If she didn't have enough space, even this basic food would be difficult for her.
It was springtime in 1958, just past the first month of the lunar calendar. The ground was still frozen, and the temperature could still drop to minus 10 degrees Celsius. Everyone was still hibernating. Xiao Hongmei's family lived at the foot of the mountain, and the nearest neighbor was two miles away. The child was shy and didn't like to talk, so she had no friends and was very withdrawn. Only the village aunties knew that Xiao Hongmei's parents had sacrificed their lives, and that the child had fallen ill from the shock. They would come to see Xiao Hongmei from time to time, but the child would not eat or drink and would not say a word, lying stiffly on the kang (a heated brick bed). They didn't know that Xiao Hongmei was dead, and that her soul had been replaced by 40-year-old Zhang Hongmei.
Lost in thought, Zhang Hongmei drifted off to sleep again, but her sleep was restless. She kept replaying Xiao Hongmei's experiences over the past ten years. In her dream, Zhang Hongmei saw Xiao Hongmei's loneliness, her longing for her parents, her trembling figure at the sound of wolves howling as she lived at the foot of the mountain, and her struggling to work in the fields under the scorching sun, her brows drenched in sweat. She saw her parents rushing back to see their little girl, their faces filled with reluctance. Zhang Hongmei felt truly heartbroken. At that age, in modern times, children would live like princes and princesses, unlike Xiao Hongmei who endured such hardship.
Suddenly, the little girl turned around and said, "Sister, I'm so tired. You can have my body. Live well for me. I'm going to find my parents." She disappeared in the blink of an eye. Zhang Hongmei anxiously tried to stop the girl, but before she could even open her mouth, the girl vanished. Dejected, she lowered her hand. Wasn't this like being forced to accept a prize?
The scene shifts, and Zhang Hongmei returns to her hometown in the 21st century. She sees her mother holding her photograph; her once jet-black hair is now half white, her face, though well-preserved, is covered in wrinkles. Her mother keeps murmuring, "Hongmei, you must have been reincarnated by now. This time, you must live well. Even if it shortens my lifespan, I want you to have a peaceful and joyful next life. Hongmei, you must get married and have children early. I was wrong before; I was too strict with you." The old woman breaks down in tears, "Hongmei, you must live well. Don't worry about your father and me; we have your brother. I miss you so much!"
Zhang Hongmei tried desperately to get close to her mother to comfort her, but there was an invisible wall she couldn't get through. At this moment, her father also came into the room and saw her mother holding her daughter's photo and crying. He couldn't help but shed tears as well. It is said that men don't easily shed tears, but that's only because they haven't reached the point of heartbreak: "Old woman, let it go. Let our daughter go in peace. If the child sees you like this, she probably won't have peace in her next life."
Hearing her father's words, the mother slowly stopped crying: "Hongmei, go in peace. I will live well. Your father and I will live to be a hundred years old. Don't worry about us." After saying that, she hung the photo on the wall, touched it with lingering affection, looked at it one last time with reluctance, and then turned and left with her father.
Zhang Hongmei sat curled up on the ground, hugging her legs and crying loudly. In reality, she also woke up, and the cold touch on her cheek told her that she had cried in her sleep as well. "Mom and Dad, don't worry, I will definitely live well."
After speaking, she slowly sat up, wrapped herself in the blanket, and slowly drank a cup of spiritual spring water from her spatial storage. She secretly resolved that it was just farm work, just hard work, and that she was already so old that she couldn't be inferior to a 10-year-old girl.
After drinking the spiritual spring water, the burning sensation in my stomach disappeared, and I finally faced my current situation squarely. I kept encouraging myself, "Come on, Zhang Hongmei, you can do it! You definitely can! Go for it!" After saying that, I felt a wave of relief wash over me. What's done is done; there's no hardship no one can't endure.
I don't even know what time it is. The room is pitch black. Thinking about this, I picked up my cotton-padded coat and trousers and sighed. Not only were they torn, but they were also incredibly dirty. My undershirt was also made of coarse cotton, so dirty that you couldn't even tell the original color. Oh well, it's definitely not nighttime yet. I'll take a proper shower in my space tonight.
Zhang Hongmei put on her clothes but couldn't find any socks. Barefoot, she slowly shuffled off the kang (heated brick bed), her torn cotton shoes on the floor giving her another wave of exhaustion. She slipped on her shoes and slowly walked towards the door. Lifting the curtain, she saw the simple kitchen was dark and gloomy. A wooden lid covered a large, round iron pot, and across from it, outside her parents' bedroom, was another large, round pot. Both earthen stoves had bellows, and simple dish racks were carved into the walls, all covered by indistinct cloth curtains. She didn't care to look at them now. Walking to the water vat, she lifted the lid and saw it was still full. She knew the village head's aunt had filled it for her yesterday. Don't underestimate that vat of water; it took breaking through ice to get it, and the house was at least two li (about 1 kilometer) from the reservoir. She remembered that kindness. Pushing open the door, a blinding white light shot through her. Zhang Hongmei squinted, feeling dizzy. It took her a while to adjust before she looked up at the sun; it was probably around two in the afternoon.
Stepping out of the house and into the courtyard, I saw only a path leading to the gate, with thick snow on both sides. The courtyard was quite large, about an acre in size, just like the one in my old home. Because of the heavy snow, it felt particularly spacious. The house consisted of five rooms in a row: a storeroom on the left with a cellar below, my parents' bedroom behind, the kitchen in the middle, my bedroom on the right, and a woodshed on the far right.
He slowly walked into the woodshed, carried out a large bundle of corn stalks, and went back to the kitchen to start a fire. After lying on the cool, damp kang (heated brick bed) all day, he didn't want to suffer again at night. He paused for a moment when he saw the flint on the bellows, then transferred a lighter from his spatial storage, reminding himself to put it away after lighting the fire. He didn't have one now, and he would have to be careful not to use items that were outdated in the future, otherwise he wouldn't be able to explain their origin.
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