An autumn rain brings a chill with it.
Yan Qixun leaned against the earthen threshold of the thatched house's main room, staring at the drizzling autumn rain outside, feeling infinitely melancholy inside.
Last night, after a fire choked her unconscious with thick smoke, she woke up with inexplicably clear memories from her previous life.
Gazing at her own house, which looked just like those thatched huts from the 1950s and 60s in her last life, Qixun just felt—maybe she died too hastily last time.
Tossing and turning all night, she honestly didn't know whether to be glad or regretful.
So... her feelings were pretty complicated.
She'd thought about it all night and could only sigh—these days, even Meng Po Soup is being cut with water. Otherwise, why would she, after happily reincarnating and living in this ancient mountain village for eight or nine years, suddenly start remembering her previous life?
Can she not just peacefully be a carefree little farm girl in ancient times anymore?
But, you can't only look on the bad side of things. Maybe the Meng Po Soup wasn't faulty at all, and it's just that she, as the youngest and brightest forty-eight-year-old dual-academician in Huaxia Country in her former life, who'd made outstanding contributions to the country's technological development and performed great deeds, was then reincarnated as a poor farmer's daughter, born into a dynasty not so kind to women. So Heaven, feeling sorry for her, gave her an extra prize—letting her unlock her memories as a cheat code?
Doesn't that make it all seem a bit better?
As for dying young in her last life, Yan Qixun didn't have any lingering regrets. She'd died saving someone—counted as a glorious sacrifice. Her parents were both gone, her uncle had his own family, she herself was still a singleton, the project she managed had just succeeded, and her country had become the world's most powerful more than a decade ago.
No regrets in death.
What she's melancholy about is that her current family had just been burned to ashes by a fire yesterday. Besides two trunks of books, nothing had been rescued.
Of course, the good thing is that everyone's alive and safe.
Now the family is temporarily staying at the house her maternal grandfather lived in when he was alive, only ten meters or so from their own now-burnt courtyard.
After Grandpa passed, the house was vacant—it's got mud walls and a thatched roof, been empty for years, already falling apart. Luckily, at least there are three rooms, and her parents would patch the roof each year, so at least it doesn't leak and can be lived in.
But... daily life isn't just about having a house, is it?
Yan Qixun hunched her shoulders in the chill.
She wore only the thin inner garment she'd slept in last night, with soot stains still clinging to it—and no clean clothes left to change into.
Now it's already the beginning of the ninth lunar month, almost winter. The weather's turning cold, and her family neither has grain to eat nor clothes or quilts to keep warm. All they managed to salvage from the burnt house were their total savings: less than five taels of scattered silver and just over two hundred copper coins.
Her Personal Space from her last life was also inaccessible—no idea if it had vanished, or if she just couldn't get in for now, so the only thing to do is plan for the worst.
To make things worse, her eldest brother went to the Capital with their father to take the imperial exams—the soonest they'd get back would be next April. Their mom was a proper lady, skilled in chess, painting, and poetry, but you couldn't count on her to support the family. Second Brother and Third Sister were triplets with Eldest Brother, but were only twelve years old. Qixun and Fifth Sister were twins, and only eight—not at the age to support the family either. Making it through the winter peacefully was going to be more than a little tricky.
At the very least, right now she was so cold it was getting hard to bear.
Watching the rain outside, Yan Qixun wiped her face and sighed again, but she really didn't want to just lie inside trying to warm herself with a bit of straw and a ragged quilt.
This damned ancient world: travel is all on foot, communication's all by shouting, keeping warm is all about shivering, and as for entertainment it's basically... uh, stop! What am I even thinking!?
Poor genius, hugging herself and shivering, pushed aside the inner screenful of roasting complaints and began to seriously calculate how to use her clever brain to make money and feed the family. As she was thinking, she suddenly heard the squeak as the bamboo-fenced gate was pushed open.
In came a woman nearly fifty years old—in this era, already considered a senior, absolutely entitled to call herself "Granny."
It was their only neighbor, Granny Zuo from the Zuo Family.
The Zuo Family was just the old couple and a son; since they were hunters and needed to be close to the mountain, they didn't live in the main village but at the foot of the hill, on the village outskirts. It was about two hundred meters from where the rest of the villagers lived.
Yan Qixun's father, Yan Yongwu, was born in the Capital City. He'd been orphaned as a child and raised by his grandparents. When he was fifteen, his grandparents, who served at the Imperial Scholar Academy in the Capital, passed away. He brought their coffins home, returned to their ancestral village, settled down, married, and that's when they became neighbors with the Zuo Family.
Seeing Granny Zuo braving the rain, Qixun quickly asked, "Granny, what brings you over at this hour?"
Granny Zuo wore a cloak woven from meadow grass and carried a bamboo basket, the contents wrapped in oilcloth—not clear what's inside.
Upon being asked, she quickly shut the gate, tiptoed over the muddy ground to the door, scraped her shoes clean as she entered, and said, "I was thinking, after what happened last night, you kids must have nothing at home. Our family can't spare much, but we can still share some rice and flour. Figured you might not have had breakfast either, so I brought these over. How come you're home all by yourself? Where's your mom and the others?"
Before Qixun could answer, Granny Zuo put down the basket, grabbed Qixun's hand and cried, "Aiya, my darling, you're only wearing this? Standing around like that? It's getting chilly now—what if you catch cold? You'd better go wrap up on the bed. Really need to do something, find you a thicker piece of clothing."
Granny Zuo knew that, after the fire, besides a few taels of silver and some copper coins and two cases of books, Qixun's family had managed to save nothing else.
The ragged quilt they had huddled under last night was actually a loan from Granny Zuo. Even that old quilt belonged to Zuo Family's youngest uncle—he said he was an adult and could handle a night without it, so they borrowed it for Qixun's family to use.
Qixun's mom noticed she'd had a slight fever yesterday, so she'd borrowed the quilt. They would have to return it today, though.
Also, since she'd fainted and had a bit of a fever yesterday, her mom had taken her brother, sisters, and gone out early to seek help, leaving her at home.
Seeing Granny Zuo looking so worried, Qixun quickly replied, "My mom took Brother to the town to buy quilts and fabric. My sister and I went to Uncle Zeng's house to borrow some grain."
Granny Zuo's husband wasn't in good health and was on medicine all year, so though they were hunters, their days were tough. The family only had three mu of dry fields and always had to buy food to get by, so Qixun's family wouldn't dream of asking them for grain.
That's why Third Sister and her twin had gone to Uncle Zeng's house for grain. This Uncle Zeng wasn't a stranger—he was her great-grandfather's full brother, so still family, within five degrees of kinship.
Since they lived a bit away from the main village, last night's fire hadn't actually alerted the rest of the clan. In any case, what was done was done—no point waking everyone up at midnight to be shocked together.
Though, by now, the clan had probably heard.
Her house was right at the village head, and everyone had to pass by it—all the coming and going meant the news must have spread. No one from the clan had come by yet, probably because her sisters had already gone to the old village to ask for help.
Granny Zuo shooed her onto the bed, wrapped her up in that thin ragged quilt, and said, "This year's autumn harvest wasn't great, but your Uncle Zeng's family has thirty mu of paddy fields—plus the ten mu they rent from your family—so their situation's not bad. They should be able to help you all a bit, and your Uncle Zeng is still alive, always loving you little great-grandkids. He'd never let you suffer. I've brought over a few jin of mixed grain flour and two jin of rice—you'll have enough to eat for a few days."
The grown-ups weren't home, so Qixun dared not just accept things from others and politely declined.