Ch 6: Bringing a Farming Game System to the 1970s

The Zhou family left, but Ding Minxiu remained, sitting with hunched shoulders and her head lowered.

Yu Xiang’an stepped out of her room, having listened to everything that transpired.

All eyes turned to her, observing her expression, only to find that she appeared remarkably calm.

Yao Cuifen walked over, took her hand, and held it tightly. “Xiao An, don’t be sad.”

“I’m not sad,” Yu Xiang’an replied, her voice steady. Seeing the Zhou family’s disbelief and panic had been satisfying in its own way.

Her gaze shifted to Ding Minxiu. “I just want to ask you—why did you do this?” She asked on behalf of the original owner.

The room’s atmosphere instantly became tense.

Everyone was curious about the answer to that question.

Ding Minxiu kept her hands protectively over her stomach, her head still bowed, her gaze fixated on her fingers. The matter had already been settled, and soon, she would marry into the Zhou family. Once there, she wouldn’t need to endure this humiliation anymore. But for now, she was still under the Yu family’s roof and had to tolerate it. Taking a deep breath, she muttered, “We… fell in love.”

Yu Xiang’an remained calm. “Fell in love? Did you forget he was my fiancé?”

Ding Minxiu hesitated for a moment before murmuring softly, “Feelings can’t be controlled.”

Yao Cuifen let out a cold laugh. “What a convenient excuse.”

Ding Minxiu lowered her head further. “I know, I was wrong. It’s all my fault. I’ve thought about confessing many times, but…”

Yu Xiang’an nodded, her tone matter-of-fact. “Yes, it is your fault.”

Ding Minxiu choked, unable to continue what she had planned to say.

Yu Xiang’an pressed on. “You knew perfectly well who he was to me, and yet you pursued this relationship. It’s despicable, and of course, it’s your fault. You’ve been involved for over a year now, haven’t you? He started coming over more often, bringing gifts—many of which were your favorites. And we, like fools, thought he was here for me. Did you find it amusing to see us so clueless?”

Before Ding Minxiu could answer, Yu Xiang’an added, “And you say you wanted to confess. Were you really planning to confess, or just waiting for the right moment?”

Unable to hold back, Ding Minxiu interrupted, “If we had told you, would you have given us your blessing?”

Finally, she looked up, her gaze filled with defiance as she stared at Yu Xiang’an.

Yu Xiang’an didn’t flinch. “Then let me ask—between the two of you, who made the first move?”

Ding Minxiu’s eyes darted nervously. “He said he liked me more.”

Yu Xiang’an nodded, as if confirming something. “Oh, so it was him. I see.”

Yu Qingshan’s gaze darkened with disappointment as he looked at Ding Minxiu. “You heard what I said earlier. From now on, you have nothing to do with the Yu family. If you live well, we won’t expect anything from you. If you don’t, don’t come knocking on our door. I’ll make sure to explain things to everyone.”

Ding Minxiu’s face turned deathly pale, as if she had been soaked in cold water. Her lips trembled as she glanced toward Zhao Qiaoniang for help. But Zhao Qiaoniang, with red-rimmed eyes, merely stared at her blankly, offering no reaction or comfort.

What could she say now?

Her daughter had committed such a shameful act. She had no right to plead for forgiveness.

---

Ding Minxiu placed her hands over her stomach, silently bolstering her resolve. She knew her biological father was unreliable, only interested in taking from her. But it didn’t matter. She had her child, and she had Boyang. They would take care of her.

---

The situation moved quickly. The Zhou family, determined to avoid further embarrassment, acted swiftly to settle matters. They couldn’t afford to delay, as Ding Minxiu’s growing belly would soon make the truth impossible to hide.

Yu Xiang’an took an exam at the food processing factory. A few days later, she received a notification to bring her documents to the accounting office to report for work. Meanwhile, Yang Xizhi completed her retirement procedures, and a young man named Chen Tieniu filled her position as a temporary worker on the factory floor.

Once Yu Xiang’an’s employment was officially transferred to the factory, everything settled into place. Not long after, Ding Minxiu packed a small bundle of belongings and quietly moved into the Zhou household as their daughter-in-law.

She left the Yu family with the same possessions she had brought when she first arrived. Yu Qingshan felt he had done his part by treating her fairly all these years. Considering her betrayal, it was already generous of him not to make things harder for her.

Zhao Qiaoniang fell ill after the incident and became unusually quiet at home. Except for occasional conversations with Yu Xiangju, she barely spoke, choosing silence whenever possible. Yu Xiang’an noticed but didn’t say anything. This was something Zhao Qiaoniang had to come to terms with herself. Trying to console her was out of the question—after all, the original owner’s life had been lost in this ordeal. Yu Xiang’an couldn’t bring herself to act magnanimously on someone else’s behalf.

With her employment secured, Yu Xiang’an no longer had to worry about being sent to the countryside. The issue of her graduation certificate was also easily resolved. After explaining her situation to her teacher, she was allowed to skip classes. She would only need to take the final exams with her classmates at the end of the term to receive her diploma.

From the moment she arrived in this world to the resolution of her employment, it had taken less than two weeks. Everything had been handled swiftly and decisively.

---

“Xiao An, Qingchun, it’s almost time. Get ready! The canteen is serving pig trotters soup today. If we’re late, it’ll be gone,” Yan Yuzhen reminded them, glancing at her wristwatch. She was one of only two people in the accounting office who owned a watch. With the other person out today, she had taken on the responsibility of keeping everyone on schedule.

Hearing this, Yu Xiang’an quickly tidied up the documents on her desk and placed them neatly in the drawer.

From the cashier’s office next door, the sounds of people packing up could also be heard. As soon as the bell signaling the lunch break rang, some employees didn’t waste a second, grabbing their lunchboxes and hurrying to the canteen, some even breaking into a run.

The canteen meals were usually simple and repetitive, but every now and then, there would be something special, like today’s pig trotters soup. Priced at five cents per serving, it came with a generous ladleful of soup, some soybeans, and even a small piece of meat-still-attached pig trotter. The aroma was irresistible.

Seeing the dish, Yu Xiang’an couldn’t help but swallow hard.

Although she had started working, it was still early in the month, and she hadn’t yet received her first paycheck. Workers like her, whose food rations were allocated directly to the canteen, didn’t need ration tickets for meals. However, they did need to pay in cash.

For meat dishes, though, meat ration tickets were usually required, and most people were reluctant to use them. This made dishes like today’s pig trotters soup, which didn’t require ration tickets, a rare treat worth hurrying for.

The food factory was about half an hour’s walk from the Yu family home. With the lunch break being short, Yu Xiang’an chose to stay at the canteen to eat, as did Yan Yuzhen. Only Sun Qingchun, who lived nearby, took his lunch to go, bringing a serving of pig trotters soup and a bowl of grain porridge home to share with his wife.

“Xiao An, after lunch, head over to the warehouse and look for last month’s shipping records. I reviewed the files today, and it seems we’re missing some,” Yan Yuzhen instructed.

Yan Yuzhen was very satisfied with the new accountant. Despite her young age, Yu Xiang’an was composed, quick to learn, and adept at her work. She grasped tasks quickly with just a bit of guidance.

“Got it, Sister Zhen,” Yu Xiang’an replied while savoring the rare taste of meat.

“And don’t forget,” Yan Yuzhen added with a smile. “Tomorrow is payday. Be extra careful with the calculations. If you’d started earlier, you’d have been included in this one.”

Yu Xiang’an chuckled, her smile bright. “Sister Zhen, I’ve already noted it down. I may not get paid this time, but I can at least watch and enjoy the process.”

Yan Yuzhen burst out laughing, her laughter hearty and infectious. “That’s right! I remember the night before my first paycheck—I tossed and turned, unable to sleep. But I wasn’t tired the next day; I was full of energy the whole time.”

“Sister Zhen, when you get your salary, are you planning to go to the supply and marketing cooperative to buy things?” Yu Xiang’an finally asked. She had been holding this question in for a while. Since coming here, aside from the meat bun and egg she ate while sick, she hadn’t had anything remotely fatty. She often had to endure hunger. Her current goal wasn’t even eating meat—it was simply to eat enough. But with the family’s limited food supply, that meant spending money. And where would that money come from?

She was too embarrassed to ask Yu Qingshan, so she held back for now. But she had already made up her mind: as soon as she got her salary, she would indulge in some long-overdue spending!

This body was far too thin and underdeveloped. If she didn’t start nourishing it now, it might be too late to catch up later. At 18, there was still time to fix this.

Yan Yuzhen nodded. “I have to go. We’re running low on salt at home, and we’re almost out of soap. Once I get paid, I’ll head over to stock up.” Her family wasn’t well-off either. With many children to feed, every month’s salary had to be carefully budgeted just to make ends meet.

That afternoon, after work, Yu Xiang’an carried her lunchbox to the canteen to get a mixed-grain pancake, a bowl of porridge, and a ladle of fried tofu. When she got home, Yu Xiangju cheered, “We’re having tofu today!”

Yu Qingshan smiled as he opened his lunchbox. “Take a look at what I’ve got here.”

Yu Xiangju ran over to him, peeking into the box with wide eyes. “Fish! We’re having fish!”

Inside were small golden-fried fish, their aroma wafting enticingly. This was a rare treat. Frying fish to this level of perfection required a generous amount of oil, something the family usually couldn’t afford to spare.

Yu Qingshan chuckled. “That’s right, we’re having fish. What were you up to today? No mischief, right?”

“No, no,” Yu Xiangju quickly denied. “I stayed home and played with Mingjie. We didn’t go anywhere, I promise!”

He was worried his father would take away the delicious treat if he thought he’d misbehaved.

Zhao Qiaoniang emerged from the kitchen carrying a plate of steamed sweet potatoes. Seeing the food they brought back, a rare smile crossed her face.

Now that the family had two workers, they didn’t need to cook much for dinner. Tonight, Zhao Qiaoniang had only steamed some sweet potatoes and prepared a dish of mixed wild greens. The benefits of being a formal worker were evident; temporary workers like her didn’t receive such perks and had to bring their own ration tickets and money to the canteen.

---

Later that night, hunger woke Yu Xiang’an from her sleep. After tossing and turning for a while, she finally got up and ate a sweet potato.

During adolescence, one’s appetite was bottomless. As the old saying went, “Half-grown kids can eat a family into poverty.” Part of Yu Qingshan’s financial struggles stemmed from having so many children to feed. Despite earning over 40 yuan a month, he couldn’t save any money.

Counting the two who had passed, he and Qin Fenglan had seven children in total, raising six of them to adulthood. Five were still alive now.

Yu Xiang’an couldn’t help but admire Yu Qingshan. Once a poor boy from a rural village, he had managed to raise so many children, ensuring they were well-fed and educated. The least-educated among them had still graduated from middle school. On top of that, he often supported his parents and relatives back in the countryside. It truly wasn’t easy.

She pondered why she had ended up in this place. After finishing the sweet potato and lying back down, unable to sleep, she found herself reflecting on life.

Could this be some form of cosmic reward? Losing her life while saving someone and being granted a second chance in return?

Bathed in faint moonlight, Yu Xiang’an reached for a small mirror on the cabinet.

In its reflection, she saw a thin, frail girl who bore a five-to-six-tenths resemblance to her. If she gained some weight, they might look even more alike. Coupled with the same name and surname… could this girl be her past self?

She couldn’t make sense of it. But her adaptable nature had helped her come to terms with reality. Calling Yu Qingshan “Dad” no longer felt strange. Still, in the quiet of the night, there were moments when everything felt surreal—like a dream from another life.

Was this like Zhuang Zhou dreaming of the butterfly, or the butterfly dreaming of Zhuang Zhou?

(T/N: this sentence refers to a famous philosophical allegory from ancient Chinese thinker Zhuangzi (Zhuang Zhou), a foundational figure of Daoism. Zhuang Zhou dreams he is a butterfly, fluttering joyfully and living its life. Upon waking, he finds himself as Zhuang Zhou again but is struck by the thought: was he Zhuang Zhou dreaming of being a butterfly, or is he now a butterfly dreaming of being Zhuang Zhou?)

Was transmigration real? Or had she always been the original owner, simply carrying memories of a future life?

The answers eluded her. Realizing it was getting late, Yu Xiang’an cut off her train of thought and resolved to sleep, as she had work the next day.

---

In the middle of a half-asleep state, Yu Xiang’an “sat bolt upright in bed.” Though she wasn’t sick, her sudden movement was reminiscent of the phrase. She had just thought of something—if she had truly transmigrated like in a TV show, didn’t that mean she might have some kind of “golden finger” ability?

Abilities like a personal space, supernatural powers, or even heightened mental capabilities?

The thought jolted her awake, and she began fumbling over her body, searching for unusual moles or birthmarks.

Nothing. She was just an ordinary girl.

Still unwilling to give up, she muttered quietly, “Open Sesame!”

“Miru Miru, Transform!”

“By the power vested in me!”

“Balala Power!”

Nothing happened. No reaction whatsoever.

Yu Xiang’an wiped her slightly sweaty forehead. Even if she didn’t have a personal space, couldn’t she at least have a game-like system or something?

As the thought crossed her mind, her surroundings suddenly shifted. In front of her appeared a towering apple tree, laden with ripe fruit. Beside it stood three other trees—chestnut, grape, and pear—all in various stages of bearing fruit. The lush green grass beneath them stretched endlessly, while in the far left corner, there was a patch of soybeans. To the right of the fruit trees, a small creek meandered, with two ducks swimming lazily. Beyond the creek stood a windmill-shaped warehouse.

Yu Xiang’an looked around, her mouth agape, slowly closing it again as realization dawned.

This was so familiar!

Wasn’t this her Xixi Farm, the casual mobile game she used to play to pass the time?

🌱🌿 🫧🍃