The villagers' voices were loud enough that even when they lowered their tones, Sun Yuwei could still hear them clearly. The long-term consumption of spiritual spring water had sharpened her hearing, but at this moment, it felt more like torture. A surge of embarrassment and irritation rose from within her, and without hesitation, Sun Yuwei began irrigating the fields.
Fang Zhiyi, who had been watching the scene, was stunned. Had the female lead lost her mind? Using spiritual spring water to irrigate several acres of land?
Sun Yuwei mindlessly poured the spiritual water onto the fields, unaware that she was nearly depleting the reserves in her spatial spring. Once finished, she exhaled as if venting her frustration, gazing at the damp soil before leisurely heading home.
Fang Zhiyi found her behavior irrational. Just then, a voice exclaimed, "Did you see that? Sister Sun was watering the fields empty-handed!"
Two other villagers peeked out from their hiding spots. "We saw it too!"
Fang Zhiyi instinctively turned and spotted three idle men from Lihua Village emerging from behind a haystack. They had been secretly watching Sun Yuwei, drawn by her increasingly youthful appearance, and had witnessed the bizarre scene.
Connecting her unnaturally rejuvenated looks with what they had just seen, the men seemed to jump to ominous conclusions and hastily scattered.
Fang Zhiyi muttered to himself, "Well... this has nothing to do with me. Definitely not my problem."
Rumors quickly spread through the village.
Sun Yuwei's children felt the sting of isolation. Even after returning to the village from the county town, no one would play with them. Former friends would be called away by their parents and soon avoided them altogether.
When Sun Yuwei learned of this, she seethed with anger. She couldn’t understand why this was happening, but her resentment toward this ancient world grew—whether it was the villagers, the townsfolk, or the detestable Wen family.
She would make them pay.
Meanwhile, Fang Zhiyi returned to Wen Yan's side. Wen Yan had abandoned her sieve-making venture after discovering a new business opportunity. Fang Zhiyi displayed an unexpected talent for handicrafts, and with Wen Yan’s designs, the two collaborated seamlessly. After brief discussions, Fang Zhiyi could produce rough prototypes, which he then refined based on Wen Yan’s feedback.
A pile of small handmade toys had already accumulated nearby.
Fang Zhiyi watched the two whispering and wisely kept his distance.
At the next market day, Wen Yan and Fang Zhiyi set up a stall together. The handmade toys attracted many children and sold quickly. Wen Yan noticed a few familiar faces among the crowd—plump, fair-skinned children—and thought to herself, As expected of a transmigrator, raising kids so well even in ancient times.
Not spotting her former sister-in-law, Wen Yan beckoned the children over and gifted each of them a small toy.
The eldest, quick-witted, accepted his with a cheerful, "Thank you, Auntie!" Wen Yan chuckled—until he added, "Thank you, Uncle."
Wen Yan’s smile instantly shifted to Fang Zhiyi, who stood beside her as her "system."
Sun Yuwei soon appeared, shooting them a venomous glare before haughtily summoning the children away. Wen Yan sighed, "Having a good system is such a blessing. Unlike me—dark and scrawny." Her words carried a pointed undertone.
Fang Zhiyi ignored her.
After this collaboration, Wen Yan’s future husband began visiting her home more frequently. Though a man of few words, he often helped with chores—fetching water, chopping firewood—and occasionally traded beans for Wen Yan’s pickled chili peppers.
Their interactions remained strictly practical.
Fang Zhiyi observed without interference. As a transmigrator, Wen Yan deserved freedom in matters of the heart. It was up to her to broach the subject with Wen's Father and Mother.
Later, Fang Zhiyi returned to Lihua Village and was astonished to see the thriving vegetable patch. Is this the power of the spatial spring?
Passing villagers would pause to stare before hurrying away with superstitious dread.
Sun Yuwei, however, was delighted. With little else to occupy her time, she often strolled through her fields in fine attire, waiting for someone to inquire about her miraculous crops.
Unbeknownst to her, rumors of her being possessed by evil spirits had spread like wildfire. Isolated as she and her children were, she remained oblivious. In this era, people revered orthodox deities like the Land God but feared unexplained phenomena.
When the village chief heard the gossip, he inspected her fields and immediately reported the matter to the county magistrate.
The magistrate took it seriously. Under the reign of a wise emperor, peace and prosperity prevailed—any hint of supernatural disturbance in his jurisdiction could cost him his position.
The constable and his men returned to Lihua Village. Upon meeting Sun Yuwei again, both parties exclaimed in unison, "You again?"
Sun Yuwei was hauled back to the county jail. Though no concrete evidence was found, the magistrate decided to detain her for a few days. Fang Zhiyi followed the spectacle with amusement.
News of her arrest spread to neighboring villages, cementing her notoriety. Wen's Father, unable to ignore the situation, went to Lihua Village and brought the children to his home.
Though plump and fair, the children seemed unnaturally subdued, mechanically greeting others in a way that felt off. Wen Yan, pitying them, took them on outings—farming, hiking—until gradually, their spirits revived.
Shortly after Fang Zhiyi left the county office, Sun Yuwei was released with a stern warning, though no charges were proven.
Fuming, she returned home to find it empty. Her anger flared—not without reason. Since her imprisonment, she had lost access to her spatial spring. Frantic attempts at home yielded no results, and with her children missing, anxiety gnawed at her.
Instinctively, she suspected the Wen family. Sure enough, she found the children in Linshui Village, dirty but laughing as they trailed behind Wen Yan, mingling with local kids.
"Sun Haowen!" Sun Yuwei planted her hands on her hips, her rage boiling over at the sight of these "ungrateful brats."
At her shout, the children froze, their joy replaced by unease.
Wen's Father stepped out from the courtyard and glared at his former daughter-in-law. "What’s all the yelling? I brought them here. Were you expecting them to starve while you were locked up?"
"Starve? Who’s starving them? There’s plenty of food at home! You just want to steal them! Everyone, come see! Child snatchers!"
"You—!" Wen's Father stamped his foot and turned away.
Wen's Mother poked her head out. "Oh, it’s just the thief who’s been jailed multiple times!" (In common parlance, anyone who’d been imprisoned was labeled a thief.)
"Who are you calling a thief, you old hag?"
Wen Yan snapped, "Watch your mouth!"