He pulled the elastic band out of his ill-fitting underwear, picked up a tree branch, and made a slingshot.

Snap!

Jackson fired a stone.

Flap-flap.

A dove flapped its wings and took off.

He missed.

In his previous life, after becoming successful, he developed a love for shooting sports, even dabbling in slingshots for a while. Now, back in his youth, he struggled to hit the dove at first. After some time, he found his rhythm.

Squatting in the grass for half the day, he finally managed to catch a pheasant with a net and took down a few doves with the slingshot.

The doves were small, only weighing about one or two pounds in total, while the pheasant weighed four to five pounds.

With his muscular build, he effortlessly tied them up with vine strips and hung them on a tree branch, preparing to take them home.

Suddenly, he felt a lightness on his back—his catch was gone. Startled, he broke out in a cold sweat. Was this a ghost? Or...?

His eyes were drawn to the safety charm on his chest, where a faint glow flickered.

That was the charm his wife always carried, not made of jade or plastic. She had thrown it by the reservoir when she committed suicide, but now it was gone again.

Jackson touched his chest, reaching for the charm.

He had entered a space—a small one, just 27 cubic meters. It was even smaller than the hospital room from his past life.

After experimenting a few times, he realized that by squeezing the charm, he could enter this space, and thinking of leaving would take him out.

This was incredible! This was the so-called 'Space', and it could hold many things. Plus, it could be upgraded!

How could he continue living like this, scraping by?

On his way back, Jackson returned the net to the family and left them a few mushrooms.

Through the broken window of his own home, he saw a tiny light shining.

That little light made him feel an unprecedented sense of satisfaction, a feeling of belonging he never experienced in his past life, no matter how much money he had.

Now he understood why castrated men would cling to what they had lost.

As he walked, he noticed many houses had electricity now. His own house still had an oil lamp, and he couldn’t believe that even after the worst of the natural disasters, his family still sometimes went hungry.

Jackson went straight to the kitchen, knife in hand, and skillfully slaughtered the doves before starting the stove.

The smell of roasted dove wafted through the kitchen.

By the time night had fully fallen, Jackson brought a large bowl of dove soup into the main room. "Soph, dinner's ready. I made dove soup to help with your milk production."

His life last time had been a mess. The bowl had multiple chips. He had even tried to smooth them out, afraid it might cut his wife’s lips.

He called three times before Sophia finally came out.

When she saw the steaming dove soup and the tender meat, she didn’t rush over. She stood still, her eyes filled with suspicion, glaring at Jackson.

Jackson looked at his wife, dressed in worn clothes patched in many places, and a wave of sadness washed over him.

In this resource-deprived era, she was exceptionally beautiful, with skin so delicate it seemed to glisten.

She was like a brilliant gem fallen to earth.

Born beautiful, with a perfect figure, yet he had treated her poorly.

He had pursued her, won her heart, but didn’t cherish her, only scolding and hitting her.

Last time, after becoming more detached from desires, whenever he saw her, a burning desire would rise in his abdomen.

Now, seeing her so guarded, though he longed to sit and eat with her, he knew she wouldn’t eat while he was around.

"Go ahead and eat, I’ll eat in the other room. If you run out, let me know, and I'll bring you more." He turned and left.

Sophia stood there, looking at the bowl of dove soup. A strange sense of unreality flooded her—was this a dream, or was this food for someone to be executed?

In the past, when there was food, he always ate first, and she had to settle for leftovers or boiled water.

Though hungry now, she hesitated, wary of his intentions.

Outside, Jackson sat by the window, drinking the soup from the bowl, slurping it down, but it was just broth with no thick meat.

There was a wild chicken hanging by the kitchen door.

Had he gone hunting? But how did he manage it? She’d never heard of him being a hunter.

Seeing that, she went back inside and picked up the bowl to eat.

It had been a long time since she had meat, and she ate too much, letting out a loud burp.

After finishing, Jackson took it upon himself to wash the dishes, something he had never done before.

After that, recalling his earlier mistakes, he went out to fetch two buckets of water and boiled a pot of hot water, bringing it into the house.

"Soph, use this to clean up."

He set down the basin and hurriedly left.

Sophia sat in the room, and after a while, she heard the faint sound of water splashing.

Jackson sat outside, gazing at the stars while planning how to earn money and improve their situation.

Winter was approaching, and temperatures here could dip below twenty below zero. His wife and child needed new winter clothes, and their blankets were too thin.

He’d sold half the cotton from their new blankets to buy alcohol.

He, a grown man, could withstand the cold with only straw, but his wife and child needed warm clothing.

After hearing the water stop, Jackson went inside.

Seeing him suddenly appear, Sophia quickly covered herself, her body huddling and retreating as if frightened, her eyes full of wariness.

"Don't come any closer."

Her reaction made Jackson curse himself for his past behavior. He knew that it would take time to undo the damage.

He had vowed to never repeat his mistakes and would now prove it with actions.

In the future, he would do everything in his power to give her the best and heal the wounds he had caused.

He spoke gently, "Honey, I just came in to take the water out. I promise I won’t do anything. Don’t hide. You might fall."

Bending down, he picked up the basin and walked out.

Sophia didn’t respond, waiting until he left to quickly dress.

Jackson stood outside, using the warm water his wife had used, washing off the sweat from hunting doves.

Once finished, he sat on the threshold, thinking about his past life.

During that time, some outsiders wanted to enter the mountains.

The forest was deep and dense, and they were afraid of getting lost. When they found him, he was idle and was offered money just to guide them.

At the time, he had no idea what they were collecting, thinking they were just city folk with too much time on their hands.

Now, thinking back, he realized how ignorant he had been.

Though he wasn’t sure why those people hadn’t shown up yet, he could now go into the mountains and sell what he found.

Having seen how they operated, he quickly became energized, grabbing a torch and some tools, preparing for a trip into the wild.

Before leaving, he called to Sophia, "Lock the door. I’m going out for a while."

When he returned around four in the morning.

He had been out the entire night, estimating that he didn't return home until around 4 AM.

It was lucky for him, really. While descending the mountain, he missed a step and tumbled down. But in the process, he discovered a civet nest. He carefully took out a few blind baby civets, swiftly slit their throats, and skinned them.

After laying some grass in the basket, he placed the civets inside, leaving one behind in the kitchen. Once he finished, he grabbed a ladle to drink some cold water to quench his thirst and fill his stomach. Without lingering, he headed out again under the cover of night.

By the time he had carried two baskets and walked thirty miles to the town, it was already daylight.

The market in the town was bustling, as it was a market day. He found a spot near a busy stall and exchanged a few polite words with the elderly vendor before squatting down.

He took out the civet meat and skins from the baskets, separating them for sale.

"Hey, young man, these mountain goods are nice..." the old man smacked his lips.

Jackson had expected no one to be interested. He had even planned to stew the unsold civets and deliver portions to his older brothers and sister. But to his surprise, not long after setting up, someone asked about the price of the civet meat.

The elderly man and woman noticed that Jackson was a young man, dark and sun-kissed, with mud stains on his pants—a clear sign that he was from the mountains. The price was fair, and the civets were big and fat, so they didn’t haggle and bought two right away.

In those times, meat had to be rationed with a ticket, so mountain goods like these were a treat to bring home for their little grandson.

Before leaving, the old lady tugged at the old man’s clothes, signaling him to buy all the civet skins, saying she would use them to make gloves and ear warmers for the grandson.

In less than two hours, Jackson had sold all the civets. As he packed up, he handed the old man a dime, which made the man grin ear to ear.

With twelve bucks earned from selling the civets and the goods he had gathered yesterday, Jackson made his way to the biggest and most reputable pharmacy in the town.

When he pulled out the goods, the old man behind the thick glass counter was stunned.

Carefully, the old man took the goods, holding them up to the sunlight and inspecting them. Although two of the branches had broken, they were still far from ordinary.

Suppressing his admiration, he smiled with a shrewd look and made an offer.

"Youth, this is my price."

Jackson’s brows subtly furrowed when he saw the price offered, as it was far from what he had in mind. This man was clearly trying to take advantage of him, thinking he was just some country bumpkin.

Despite running a small pharmacy in this town, the old man was no simple character. In his past life, after he’d stopped resisting traditional Chinese medicine, people learned that his ancestors had been royal physicians, and he himself was a renowned doctor.

Seeing Jackson’s indifference, the old man quickly reacted, holding his hand down and stroking his goat beard, reassuring him with a smile, "Young man, don’t be hasty. If you’re not happy with the price, we can always negotiate. Don’t be so quick-tempered!"

As he spoke, he observed Jackson’s expression. Although the young man was barely out of his teens, his sharp, perceptive eyes conveyed wisdom, composure, and shrewdness beyond his years, making him seem like someone not easily deceived.

Reluctantly, the old man gritted his teeth and set a price that made him wince, knowing it was an opportunity that could not be passed up. In his entire life in the pharmacy, he had never come across something of such quality.