Traveling Through Those Years Of Farming (Quick Transmigration) - Chapter 1

“Come here, sweetheart, let Mama feel your forehead and see if the fever’s gone.”

Baobao sleeps lightly, and her mother gently pulls her from the bed. The cool touch of her mother’s cheek against her forehead makes Baobao shudder and gradually regain her senses.

It has been three days since she arrived in this world.

In this life, her name is Zhen Baobao. She’s the youngest daughter of the Zhen family from the Third Production Team of Xiagou Village.

She’s called the daughter of the “former” team leader because, while she’s still in the womb, droughts plague the country. Her father takes the village’s able-bodied men into the mountains, but he loses his life in a struggle with a starving blind bear. As a result, the position of team leader passes to her uncle from her aunt’s side of the family.

She is a posthumous child, and her mother is a widow.

When Baobao first entered this body, the original owner was suffering from a high fever. The family had tried various folk remedies and borrowed a lot of western medicine on credit from the health station, but the fever wouldn’t break. Fortunately, after Baobao took over, her condition began to improve, and her body temperature gradually returned to normal.

In addition to her biological mother, who is checking her temperature, Zhen Baobao also has a brother, Zhen Baoli, who is three years older, now six years old. She also has a grandmother who, like her mother, is a widow.

Other than that, the only relatives with any real connection to them are those from her great-uncle’s branch.

Among the three generations—her grandparents, parents, and children—there are no strong laborers to support the family. In the 1960s, this made life especially difficult and left them vulnerable to exploitation by more powerful families in the village.

Fortunately, the Zhen family’s situation is unique. 

Back then, Zhen Baobao’s father died essentially in service to the community—he severely wounded that bear before the others managed to kill it. That bear meat, weighing several hundred jin, helped the village survive a period of brutal famine. People with a conscience know that the widows and orphans of the Zhen family should not be mistreated.

Moreover, the current team leader—her great-uncle’s eldest son—only got the position thanks to her father’s legacy, so he had always been quietly helping the Zhen family over the years.

Then, two years ago during a military census, Zhen Baobao’s late grandfather was officially recognized as a martyr. It was confirmed that he died at the hands of the Japanese while leading the Red Army through unfamiliar terrain. 

Since then, the old Zhen widow has been receiving a monthly stipend from the county military office: six yuan, five jin of grain coupons, and ten eggs. During holidays, they also receive rare items like oil and sugar coupons.

These subsidies greatly improve the Zhen family’s living conditions.

“Mama, I don’t feel sick anymore.”

Baobao rubs her eyes and speaks in a soft, tender voice.

People here still call their parents “Mama” and “Papa.” The terms “Mom” and “Dad” are considered trendy city-speak, and the older folks in the countryside don’t like hearing them.

“Our Baobao is so good.”

The young widow Xu Panhao presses her cheek to her daughter’s forehead again, then slips her hand inside Baobao’s collar to feel her back and belly. Confirming that there’s no more fever, she finally lets out a sigh of relief.

“Get up quickly. Mother has made you a bowl of egg porridge. I need to go work later, so you can play with your brother. Remember not to take off your clothes again, and be careful not to catch another cold.”

Xu Panhao looks at her daughter’s face, which has become thinner from the illness, and feels deeply distressed.

When she is pregnant with Baobao, the drought hasn’t yet passed. She suffers multiple spotting episodes, especially when she learns of her husband’s death. She is so distraught she nearly miscarries.

When Baobao is born, she is no bigger than a kitten. Many people say she won’t survive. Xu Panhao relies on a loach and a few small crucian carps, gifts from relatives and villagers, to feed her. She pours all her energy into raising Baobao until she turns three.

She is fortunate that the year Baobao is born is a good harvest year, allowing the family to trade some of their grain for millet. When Xu Panhao’s milk runs low, she feeds her daughter rice porridge.

In fact, no baby in Xiagou Village eats as delicately as Baobao.

Despite all the care, Baobao is still smaller than other children. At the age when most babies are chubby, Baobao’s cheeks are hollow, and she looks frail. This makes Xu Panhao’s heart ache.

Now, after this illness, Baobao has lost even more weight, which makes her mother feel guilty.

“Mama, dress me.” Baobao mumbles, eyes still half-closed, her little head nodding in sleep. She is cute, though a little pitiful.

As the words leave her mouth, she blushes. Despite having lived many lifetimes, she feels embarrassed asking her mother to dress her. It seems that her personality has been affected by the original body’s delicate nature.

“When the busy season is over, I’ll take apart the sweater and knit you a bigger one, change the pattern, and dress our baby beautifully,” Xu Panhao picks up the sweater and puts it on her daughter.

It’s a bit tight this year—the one she knitted last year already doesn’t fit quite right. As she pulls it over her daughter’s head, she accidentally yanks out a few strands of hair, and her cheeks get flushed from the rubbing. But at least now the girl looks a little more lively.

This fine wool is part of the martyr’s family subsidy given during the military census. It totals only a jin and a half—not enough to make clothes for an adult. Widow Liu Sanmei, the old Zhen matriarch, can’t bear to use such good material herself. She asks her grandson Zhen Baoli to bring it over so Xu Panhao can knit a sweater for their precious Baobao.

The wool is tangerine-orange, a perfect match for Baobao’s pale skin. When Xu Panhao knits it, she puts great effort into the design, adding all kinds of patterns. Not even the most expensive sweaters sold in the county’s supply co-op can match its beauty.

Looking at the now-too-tight collar and slightly short sleeves, Xu Panhao makes up her mind to take it apart during the off-season and add some leftover yarn from last year to enlarge it.

The moment she hears the words “pretty and nice,” Baobao can’t help but smile.

The original host isn’t just a little pampered—she also loves looking pretty. This definitely isn’t Baobao’s own vanity—she refuses to admit she’s into fashion and blames it entirely on the host’s personality.

When Xu Panhao finishes dressing her daughter and steps outside the room, her son Zhen Baoli is already up and dressed, just about to come in to check on them.

“Mama.” Zhen Baoli calls out to his mother, then looks at his sister in her mother’s arms.

At six years old, Zhen Baoli is much stronger, especially since the recent harvest has been good. While the Zhen family lacks strong laborers, the food provided is enough to support the elderly and weak members of the family. Thanks to the martyr’s allowance, the only male in the family has been well-fed, growing tall and strong, looking much like his father.

When Zhen Baobao’s father died, Baoli was only three. At the time, most of Xu Panhao’s energy was focused on raising Baobao, who was difficult to care for.

Grandma Liu Sanmei, while grieving the death of her only son, also had to help with feeding and raising her granddaughter. As a result, Zhen Baoli receives much less attention.

Fortunately, Zhen Baoli is a kind and honest child. Rather than envying his sister, he acts as a protective older brother. When the adults aren’t around, he looks after Baobao with great care.

Now, at six, Zhen Baoli is able to help with many tasks. Whenever Xu Panhao and Liu Sanmei work, he always watches over Baobao.

A few days ago, Baobao was sick, and Zhen Baoli was unable to sleep. Now, he has a big blister at the corner of his mouth, making him look a little funny.

“Baoli, take your sister to rinse her mouth, and then Mama will give you your porridge,” Xu Panhao says as she sets Baobao down.

Zhen Baoli eagerly takes his sister’s hand and leads her out to the yard.

Xu Panhao watches them, one tall and one short, and the smile on her face never fades.

Now that Baobao has recovered, her heart is finally at ease.

After watching them for a while, Xu Panhao turns and goes to the kitchen. The porridge in the pot is boiling. She scoops a large bowl of thinner rice porridge from the top, then fills another bowl with half of it. She goes to the cupboard drawer and takes out the last egg.

There are two chickens at home, but due to limited food, they haven’t been laying eggs regularly. Recently, the cold weather has kept the hens from laying eggs, and this is the last one.

Xu Panhao hesitates for a moment but decides to use the egg. She cracks it into the boiling rice porridge and stirs it in.

The rice porridge, which has been slightly yellow, turns a vibrant yellow as the egg mixes in, and the fragrance of eggs fills the air.

She stirs a few more times, then scoops a small spoonful of the egg porridge into the ceramic bowl that is already half-full, and pours the remaining thick egg porridge into another bowl.

The bowl is small, clearly meant for a child.

Xu Panhao picks up the first bowl of porridge, blows on it a few times, then takes a few mouthfuls from the edge, drinking it down as if she isn’t afraid of the heat at all.

“Time to eat!”

After finishing her own portion, she carries the other two bowls into the main room and calls out to the children in the yard.

The bowl with half-egg porridge is for Zhen Baoli. The thick, rich egg porridge is for Baobao. From the outside, the two bowls look almost the same.

“Wow, we got egg porridge today!”

Zhen Baoli is thrilled. No matter how sensible he is, he’s still a child, and of course, he’s happy to see something delicious.

Usually, Xu Panhao is reluctant to use eggs because they’re valuable; if she has enough, she can exchange them at the purchasing station for other daily necessities. Plain rice porridge is also rare. In the past, they often added corn or wild vegetables to the porridge at home.

The reason they have egg porridge today is purely because Baobao has been seriously ill, and the doctor advises that she needs proper care.

“Baoli, after breakfast, go ask your grandma for a few more eggs. Baobao needs to build her strength back up.”

Xu Panhao ties a towel around her neck, preparing to go out to work. Before leaving, she casually glances at the yard next door.

The Old Widow Liu Sanmei lives next door.

Baobao swallows the hot, fragrant egg porridge in her mouth and recalls the memories from her original body. There has always been trouble between her mother and grandmother in this life.

The Zhen family has two widows. The husband of the younger widow is the only son of the older one. Everyone thinks the two women should live together and raise the family’s only two children.

Unfortunately, the two widows can’t stand each other. When they meet, they’re always at odds. Old Widow Zhen can’t stand her son loving his wife more than her. Later, after her son dies, she blames the young widow for his death.

The young widow refuses to accept this accusation. They are both widows, so if her husband’s death is her fault, then the old widow’s husband’s death must be her fault too. Both of them are women who lose their husbands—who can claim to be nobler than the other?

So, the two women fight more than once.

By the way, Baobao forgot to mention that these two widows are infamous shrews in Xiagou Village. There’s no choice in the matter; in this world, if widows aren’t fierce and strong, they get bullied to death.

After losing their husbands, both Old Widow Zhen and Young Widow Zhen’s tempers flare, to the point that no one in the village dares provoke them.

Although Xu Panhao is a loving mother to her daughter, with a voice so soft it could melt water, she is a terrifying tigress covered in thorns when dealing with outsiders.

After quarreling several times, the mother-in-law and daughter-in-law decide to build a wall to divide the house into two sections. The old widow Zhen lives in the house where she and her late husband once lived, and she turns the former utility room into a kitchen, living a simple life alone.

She can still do some light work for work points, and with the food distributed by the team and her husband’s martyr subsidy, her life is relatively comfortable.

Although she can’t stand her daughter-in-law, Old Widow Zhen loves her son’s two children deeply, especially the little granddaughter, who has never felt the love of her father. The old widow longs to give her all the love her son couldn’t.

So, despite not being able to talk to her daughter-in-law, the old widow always has her grandson act as a middleman, passing on her late husband’s subsidy through him.

Liu Sanmei knows that her daughter-in-law will never touch those things, and they love the two children equally.

“Hey.” Zhen Baoli, clearly used to being the family messenger, answers in his deep voice.

Because of the original body’s illness, Baobao hasn’t stepped outside the Zhen family’s yard for several days. Even just going to the other half of the Zhen family’s yard on the other side of the wall feels quite new to her.

“Grandma, my mom wants to eat eggs!” Zhen Baoli is a bit dim-witted. His mother’s words are too long, and he only remembers a few key ones.

Baobao, being held by his hand, nearly trips flat on her face in the yard.

Is that the actual message? Is this retelling serious?

Baobao looks up at her brother, who’s two or three heads taller than her, with a confused expression.

Zhen Baoli, unaware of the implications, grins at his sister.

“Let her eat her fart!” Old Widow Zhen hears her grandson’s yell and comes out of the house. When she sees her grandson and granddaughter, her expression softens, and she smiles broadly, like a blooming chrysanthemum. “You two stay for lunch at Grandma’s.”

The old lady, still strong, picks up Baobao. “So thin. Poor Baobao, you’ve really suffered. I’ll bake some sweet potatoes for you later.”

Baobao is very familiar with this grandma. During her serious illness, the old lady stays by her side every day. Ever since falling out with her daughter-in-law, Liu Sanmei has practically never set foot in the adjacent courtyard.

“Grandma, I want to eat too.” Zhen Baoli calls out, and the old lady naturally agrees.

“You go back and tell that stingy mother of yours—there are no eggs left here. Tell her to trade some grain for eggs from the neighbors. Your sister’s health can’t be neglected. Back when your father was alive, he didn’t treat her poorly. How did she end up raising the girl to be so tightfisted?”

Of course, the old lady knows full well the eggs aren’t for the daughter-in-law herself. But that doesn’t stop her from taking the opportunity to throw a few jabs.

The eggs she saves are all exchanged for medicine at the health station. The cupboards in her house are empty, and she can’t even offer any white sugar. The old lady is waiting for next month’s subsidy to exchange some brown sugar for her granddaughter’s health.

But she doesn’t say these words in front of the children.

“Oh.” Zhen Baoli scratches the back of his head. He’s not sure if he’s remembered the entire sentence correctly.

The siblings stay at their grandmother’s house all morning and each have a small baked sweet potato. It’s not until the loudspeaker from the commune office signals the end of the workday that they leave.

“Mama, Grandma says she won’t give it to you. You’re stingy. She told you to exchange it with the neighbor.” Zhen Baoli thinks for a long time before he manages to piece together a rough version of the old lady’s message.

Baobao, who witnesses the whole thing, covers her face with her hands. He’s only changed a few words, yet the tone and meaning are completely different.

She figures the worsening relationship between their mother and grandmother over the years definitely has something to do with this silly brother of hers.