I System 05

Sun Yuwei had nearly exhausted all her savings to secure her release, even surrendering her secret recipe in the process.

There was no other choice—she couldn’t possibly explain that her spices came from a mystical space. The more unclear her explanation, the more the county magistrate became convinced she was colluding with foreign merchants, a grave crime in the Great Qi Dynasty.

Fortunately, the magistrate was greedy, and Sun Yuwei was quick-witted. She proposed a deal: her recipe plus a hefty fine, and she was freed.

As she walked back to the village with her son, Sun Yuwei gritted her teeth in fury.

What a damned law!

Meanwhile, under Fang Zhiyi’s suggestion, Wen Yan began composting—layering livestock manure with wood ash. Though she couldn’t precisely control the ratios, it was still far better than haphazard piling.

Watching Wen Yan stick a few branches into the compost pile, she explained, "These are aeration stakes."

Fang Zhiyi didn’t understand at all but praised her enthusiastically anyway.

Wen's parents watched their daughter’s latest experiment with mixed feelings. In the village, composting simply meant tossing weeds and manure together—who bothered with layering or regularly turning the pile with a hoe?

But since it wasn’t causing any harm, they let her be.

Wen's Father, however, remembered his daughter’s idea for improving farming tools. Now that he had some money, he took her to the blacksmith. Wen Yan was swamped—gesturing wildly to explain the tool modifications, then rushing back to tend the compost pile.

She had never felt so busy in her life, collapsing into bed each night without even chatting with her system.

While she slept, Fang Zhiyi slipped outside. Several days had passed—had the female protagonist come up with any new schemes?

At that moment, Sun Yuwei was in the mountains trying to catch rabbits. Using fresh fruit from her space as bait, she lured wild hares effectively—but the scent also attracted a wild boar.

Fang Zhiyi, who had just arrived, watched curiously. In the original plot, the female protagonist could single-handedly capture a boar. He wanted to see how she’d manage.

But under the influence of "reality," Sun Yuwei’s usual luck had run out. The enraged boar charged straight at her, sending her fleeing in terror. Fortunately, the beast was more interested in the food and left her alone after driving her off.

In her panic, Sun Yuwei didn’t watch her footing and tumbled down a slope. Only after gulping down a mouthful of spirit spring water from her space did the pain slowly fade.

"Ugh! Why am I so unlucky lately?" she cursed, glaring upward.

Fang Zhiyi, however, was reminded of another plot twist upon seeing the boar and hurried back.

"Wake up! Wake up!"

"Ugh!" Wen Yan sat up irritably—she’d been dreaming of eating hotpot!

Fang Zhiyi forced himself to ignore her disheveled hair. "How about I offer you a fortune?"

"No..." Wen Yan flopped back down, then bolted upright again. "Wait, what fortune?"

"Gold. A lot of it."

"Where? Let’s go!" But when she learned it involved tomb raiding, Wen Yan hesitated. "I... I don’t dare..."

"Pathetic!" Fang Zhiyi scoffed. He’d expected this. "Fine. At dawn, report it to the authorities—but say you stumbled upon it while gathering firewood."

Though confused, Wen Yan agreed.

Neither of them anticipated Sun Yuwei’s next move. Fuming after returning home, she rallied her two eldest sons—she was determined to hunt that boar! But nightfall was too dangerous, so they waited until morning.

At daybreak, Wen Yan sent Wen's Father to fetch the improved tools while she hitched a ride to the county town on a neighbor’s oxcart.

Soon, a group of constables followed her into the woods. Guided by Fang Zhiyi, they found the ancient tomb—but its entrance was wide open. The captain cautiously stepped inside.

"You again?!"

"And you?!"

Their shouts echoed from within.

News spread quickly. Wen Yan was commended by the magistrate and rewarded with ten taels of silver—a small fortune for common folk.

As for Sun Yuwei, the widow from Lihua Village, she was caught red-handed tomb-raiding with her sons. Given her need to support her children, she was spared harsh punishment—only thirty strokes of the rod as a warning.

Fang Zhiyi watched the spectacle, ensuring no accidents occurred. Sun Yuwei endured every brutal strike—ancient corporal punishment was no joke; fifty strokes could kill a person.

Seeing her secretly sip spirit spring water afterward, even Fang Zhiyi felt a twinge of envy for her mystical spring.

After this ordeal, Sun Yuwei’s hatred for Wen Yan burned fiercely.

"That wretched woman! Even when we’re unrelated, she still ruins my life!"

But glimpsing the hidden gold ingots in her space, Sun Yuwei found renewed hope. She’d managed to stash a few before the authorities arrived.

"Time to start a business," she muttered, the pain fading as her spirits lifted.

The village now scorned her, and even her children faced disdain. Defiant, Sun Yuwei sold her farmland and moved to the county town.

She had a plan: a clothing boutique. She’d show these backward ancients what real design looked like!

That night, deep in the mountains, a man sprinted desperately as masked assassins pursued him. A misstep sent him tumbling down a cliff.

The assassins, certain of his death, withdrew.

Fang Zhiyi observed silently. Hours later, the Ninth Prince stirred awake, struggling to his feet with a makeshift crutch.

"His resilience is cockroach-level," Fang Zhiyi mused. He had no intention of sending Wen Yan to rescue him. Why disrupt a peaceful life?

Back in the village, Wen Yan’s improved farming tools drew crowds. Under her guidance, Wen's Father demonstrated their use—clumsy at first, drawing laughter, but when the oddly shaped tools proved remarkably efficient, the villagers were stunned.

As they crowded around, Wen Yan flashed a sly, merchant’s grin. "Easy does it!"

Among the onlookers, a sun-bronzed man studied her intently.

Wen Yan noticed him—the suitor her parents had chosen. No way. She’d find an excuse to refuse. Arranged marriage? Not for her!

Fang Zhiyi also eyed the man who, in the original plot, had died for Wen Yan. After a moment, he nodded approvingly. A loyal one, if a bit dull.

With Fang Zhiyi’s advice, Wen Yan proposed a partnership with the blacksmith and carpenter, taking only a ten percent cut. After some thought, they agreed.

Finally free, Wen Yan happily counted her coins, dreaming of gourmet treats—until the sight of her meager seasonings dampened her mood.