"In ancient times, food was precious. If you don't eat, you'll starve for a day."
No chili peppers?" Wen Yan, who loved spicy food, was nearly on the verge of collapse. The bowl of noodles had a rough texture, tasting only slightly salty with a hint of bitterness and wild onions.
"Nope. Chili peppers won't be introduced for several hundred more years. You’ll have to wait," Fang Zhiyi teased, clearly enjoying her frustration.
Grumbling, Wen Yan forced the noodles into her mouth. As soon as she put the bowl down, an elderly man came to hurry her off to the fields.
"Your father’s here," Fang Zhiyi reminded her, amused.
Wen Yan took a deep breath, silently cursing Fang Zhiyi a few times.
"I can hear you."
After a whole afternoon of toiling under the sun, Wen Yan felt utterly drained. Her hands were blistered, and she’d barely managed to plow half an acre. She complained loudly, but Fang Zhiyi simply watched without comment.
It took a grueling five days before Wen Yan and her father finally finished plowing the field—thanks only to her prior knowledge of farming.
"I’m getting old. Soon, I won’t be able to do this anymore," the old man sighed, rubbing his aching back. "If only your elder brother were still here..."
His sorrowful expression softened Wen Yan’s irritation. Silently, she stepped forward and began massaging his shoulders. Fang Zhiyi was surprised—this supposed "villainess" didn’t seem so malicious after all.
The old man chuckled. "In a couple of years, you’ll be married off. I’ll miss you dearly."
Wen Yan pouted. "I’m not getting married."
"Don’t talk nonsense. All girls must marry when they come of age."
Wen Yan opened her mouth to argue—she wanted to talk about free love—but Fang Zhiyi quickly warned, "Careful now. This is a feudal society. Those words would be considered treasonous."
Fuming, Wen Yan swallowed her retort.
"Still, gotta admit, the original host’s parents are unusually progressive for not favoring sons over daughters."
Wen Yan didn’t argue with that.
"Can’t you actually help with something? Or are you completely useless?"
Fang Zhiyi repeated his usual line: "Preventing you from doing something stupid is help enough."
"What’s so stupid about me?"
"Shh. Someone’s coming."
Wen Yan looked up to see a woman from the original plot stride into the courtyard, followed by several children.
The woman’s haughty demeanor made Wen Yan reluctant to engage. In the story, this sister-in-law was cruel and vicious.
Hearing the commotion, Wen's Father and Wen's Mother emerged from the house.
At the sight of Sun Yuwei, their expressions darkened. Wen's Mother frowned. "What are you doing here?" She hadn’t forgotten how this daughter-in-law had caused her son’s death—if not for her recklessness, he wouldn’t have fallen off the cliff.
Wen's Father forced a strained smile at the children.
Sun Yuwei scoffed, sweeping a disdainful glance around. "I’m here to make it clear that Sun Yuwei—and these children," she gestured behind her, "will no longer have any ties to the Wen family. They’re taking my surname now!"
"What?!" Wen's Mother was furious. "You think you can just decide that? My son hasn’t even been gone a year, and you’re already trying to cut off the Wen lineage? You heartless witch!"
Sun Yuwei smirked. "It’s not up to you. I checked the rules—after a year of widowhood, I’m free to remarry. And watch your mouth, you old hag." Though not the original host, she’d inherited the memories and knew the Wens despised her. Better to sever ties now before they could leech off her future success.
"I’ve even brought the clan elders to witness this." She motioned for the men behind her to enter. The Wen family lived in Lin Shui Village, while Sun Yuwei was from Li Hua Village. After marriage, Wen's son had stayed in Li Hua to tend her family’s land.
Wen Yan couldn’t stay silent. This woman was insufferable. Regardless of circumstances, Wen's Father and Wen's Mother were now her parents too. She stood up. "Have you no shame? First, you get my brother killed, and now you’re cutting ties? Found yourself a new man already?"
Sun Yuwei sneered. "A freeloader like you dares to lecture me?"
Wen's Father, noticing the outsiders in the yard, silenced the argument with a dark look.
Ignoring Sun Yuwei, he addressed the children. "Do you want to stay with your mother or come back with us?" He knew how harsh Sun Yuwei could be—the children often bore the brunt of her temper.
The kids glanced between him and their mother.
Fang Zhiyi quipped, "Too late!"
Wen Yan shot him a puzzled look.
Sure enough, the children chose Sun Yuwei. Wen's Mother seethed, muttering curses under her breath while shooting venomous glares at Sun Yuwei, who wore a triumphant grin.
Though resentful, the Wen elders had no choice but to formalize the severance under the witnesses’ supervision.
"Hey, isn’t there anything we can do?" Wen Yan whispered.
Fang Zhiyi replied, "Nope. The law doesn’t forbid children from taking their mother’s surname."
Mission accomplished, Sun Yuwei left with the children, tossing a final taunt: "Don’t come crawling to me when you’re in trouble."
Wen's Mother spat in disgust. Wen's Father’s face remained stormy.
"What did you mean by ‘too late’?" Wen Yan asked Fang Zhiyi once everyone had left.
Fang Zhiyi grinned. "Didn’t you notice how clean those kids’ clothes were? Sun Yuwei must’ve started treating them well days ago. Given the choice between distant grandparents and a moody aunt or a suddenly doting mother, even a fool would pick the latter."
Wen Yan’s eyes widened in realization, then she scowled. "Who’re you calling moody?" When the system ignored her, she mused aloud, "How could someone so vile change overnight?"
Fang Zhiyi answered, "Because she’s not herself anymore."
Wen Yan froze. "What?"
"She’s like you—a transmigrator."
Wen Yan’s face lit up. "So... I’m not alone?"
"Don’t get too excited."
Wen Yan huffed. "What do you know, useless system?"
But then, fragments of a dark future flooded her mind—her miserable old age, orchestrated by Sun Yuwei. She gaped in horror.
"Why? How?" she stammered.
Fang Zhiyi said simply, "No reason. Haven’t you heard? In a foreign land, the first person to distrust is your own kin."
"But..." The visions left Wen Yan shaken. Then, a realization struck. "You! You betrayed me too!"
Fang Zhiyi feigned innocence. "Don’t blame me. That wasn’t my doing."
"What?"
"Otherwise, why would you get a second chance?" Fang Zhiyi said. "Think about it."
Over the next few days, Wen Yan settled into her role, dutifully tending the fields—until her restless mind sparked another idea.
"What if I made soap to sell?" she proposed, inspired by books she’d read.
Fang Zhiyi doused her enthusiasm. "Bad idea."
"You're useless and won't even let me try?" Wen Yan retorted defiantly. "It's just oil and alkali, isn't it?"