Volume One, Chapter 1: The Unfortunate Soul Without Even a Memory

“Down with the landlords and evil gentry! The poor who once bowed their heads three inches lower now stand tall and proud—”

A fragment of old film music played intermittently, jolting Yu Nian’an awake. Staring up at the dark, dilapidated roof above her, she felt dizzy and momentarily thought she was trapped in a dream within a dream.

Yet the melody didn’t fade; instead, it seemed to pierce through time itself with a strange dissonance, making it hard to hear clearly.

Slowly, she sat up and rubbed her head. Her vision gradually sharpened.

She was lying on a modest kang (heated brick bed), and the wall beside her was plastered with a few big-character posters. Squinting, Yu Nian’an tried to read them.

July 1976?

Suddenly, she pinched her thigh hard.

Pain! This was no dream.

She jumped to her feet, not bothering to put on shoes, and shoved open the door, peering outside.

The courtyard was enclosed by a wooden fence, with two water jars beneath the eaves. The gate was half broken, looking dangerously unstable.

This room was the only one in the yard aside from the kitchen.

Blinking repeatedly, Yu Nian’an finally accepted that she had traveled through time.

Could someone tell her why, after merely complaining about a badly written novel before bed, she woke up like this?

She punched the yellow mud wall beside her, only to hear a crackling sound as loose earth fell away.

Quickly retracting her hand, she checked repeatedly to ensure the wall wouldn’t collapse, then sat on the doorstep to gather her thoughts.

Her mind was blank; she could recall nothing. Aside from the crackling from the radio speaker nearby, all was silent.

So, no system, no cheat codes, not even any memories — just a pure unlucky soul?

The world’s collapse had never begun so disastrously. Yu Nian’an couldn’t help but make a rather rude gesture toward the heavens.

The moment she withdrew her hand, thunder roared overhead.

Yu Nian’an collapsed.

When she came to again, clutching her throbbing head, a few names suddenly escaped her lips.

“Lin Zhi, Ye Xiao…”

She realized where she had landed: inside the very novel she had mocked before sleeping.

Lin Zhi and Ye Xiao were the male and female leads, both young intellectuals about to be sent to the countryside.

As for herself, she was merely a minor character who appeared thrice at the beginning—just a convenient tenant to justify the female lead moving into the workers’ compound.

Yes, this was the very courtyard she now occupied.

Her parents had died in an accident, leaving her an orphan. Coincidentally sharing the same name, she was now at the stage where a scoundrel was deceiving her, soon to take both her body and heart. Villagers would gossip, and unable to bear the slander, she would end her life by drowning.

After her death, the scoundrel obtained the land deed and, learning the female lead was looking for a vacant house, sold this place off.

From the plot’s perspective, it all unfolded naturally. But now that she had transmigrated as Yu Nian’an, events could no longer follow the original trajectory.

Lin Zhi would have to find another place.

With that thought, Yu Nian’an rose, dusted off her trousers, and returned inside.

The room was just over ten square meters—barely furnished. There was a kang, two wardrobes beside it, and a legless wooden table by the window. Nothing else.

So simple that even a thief passing by wouldn’t know where to start.

She felt utterly helpless but resigned as she opened the cabinet on the kang and began searching.

She recalled that the original owner’s parents died while helping the brigade repair a dam. Fearing it would affect the honor rating, the brigade covered it up with money.

The compensation was a hefty 180 yuan.

Since she had arrived here, that money was her only capital for survival.

Yu Nian’an rummaged through the wardrobe and finally found the money hidden between thick quilts—but the amount was wrong.

A rough count revealed only seventy yuan remained.

The original owner was introverted with few friends; the only plausible person to have taken the money was the scoundrel mentioned in the story.

Pausing briefly, Yu Nian’an felt fragments of the original owner’s memories surface.

Yu Dingguo, her uncle’s youngest son, was handsome, slick-tongued, and always fooling around with chickens and dogs. He often teased the original owner, who would blush at his words, making it amusing.

But after the compensation money appeared, his intentions changed. He lingered around, feigning concern.

The original owner, too naive to resist, quickly became enchanted by his sweet talk.

Once the moment was ripe, Yu Dingguo concocted excuses to swindle the money from her—initially borrowing, then outright demanding it.

Though the original owner had thought about refusing, her innocence couldn’t withstand his oily words.

Before long, it was as if she had been brainwashed, repeatedly handing over money.

Altogether, including the family’s savings, she had given him nearly two hundred yuan.

What a case of spoiling a parasite into addiction!

Snapping out of the flashback, Yu Nian’an hid the remaining money carefully and reviewed the information she had, quickly formulating three survival plans:

1. Retrieve all the lent money and sever ties with the scoundrel.

2. Avoid contact with the main characters and live a peaceful life.

3. Develop quietly while waiting for the right opportunity to buy land and property.

For now, she would start with the first.

The original owner may have been timid, but that didn’t mean she had to be. Now occupying this identity, she was determined to reclaim what was hers.

Locking the door behind her, Yu Nian’an set off for her uncle’s house, relying on memory.

This brigade was dominated by the Yu family, hence called the Yu Brigade. It was the hottest time of summer, and the villagers were resting at home, waiting for the sun to wane before working in the fields.

She encountered no one along the way.

At Yu Dingguo’s home, his mother was hunched over, hanging clothes in the yard. Surprised to see Yu Nian’an, she called her over.

“Child, what brings you here?” she asked, guiding her to sit while inquiring about her purpose.

From her tone, Yu Nian’an sensed she was unaware of Yu Dingguo’s misdeeds, so she put on a smile.

“Aunt, I came to see Brother Dingguo. He said he’d help fix my courtyard gate but hasn’t come yet. I wonder if he’s free today.”

“Oh, that boy has such a poor memory, making you come all this way at noon. Wait here—I’ll go call him.”

The aunt placed the wooden basin down and went into the west room. Soon, she returned with a tall young man.

Yu Nian’an looked up: sharp brows, single eyelids, tanned skin, a prominent nose. At first glance, he had the wild charm of a rebellious youth—quite decent-looking.

After all, fooling the original owner required more than just a silver tongue.

But she didn’t like this type at all and had no interest in admiring his looks. Seeing him, her mind was consumed with thoughts of her two hundred yuan, wishing she could pounce on him and demand repayment immediately.

Only the aunt was nearby.