"Young buddy, six, no more than that."

Jackson knew he wasn’t very knowledgeable about herbs. Even though he had accidentally broken the branch, the value of the goods was still far more than the price offered. But since he needed the money urgently, he had no choice but to sell it at a lower price, relying on his memory to collect it from the nearest mountain to his home. He couldn’t afford to wait any longer. The bus to the county town had already left by the time he arrived in the town, and there was no telling when the next one would leave. What if his wife and child starved from malnutrition while waiting?

He had a space that could preserve things, but he wasn't sure if leaving these goods there would cause any problems.

With that thought in mind, Jackson decided to sell. In this era, when the average worker only made thirty bucks a month, this amount of money was considered quite substantial.

He put the money he earned from the sale into his space, keeping only a few small bills on him. He didn’t rush to go home, instead, he went to buy some ration tickets—flour tickets, oil tickets, and meat tickets—from people who were dealing in black market goods. In this world, with the economy still under control, tickets were more valuable than money.

Next, he bought meat, oil, and flour, and went to several supply and marketing cooperatives. After much effort, he managed to buy some rare and expensive powdered milk and even picked up a few items of clothing for the child.

On his way back, Jackson thought about the worn, ill-fitting clothes his wife had been wearing yesterday, patched up and torn. He went into the only small state-owned department store in the town.

Under the scrutinizing gaze of the middle-aged saleswoman, he quickly spotted a trendy plaid jacket and dark blue pants. His wife, with her fair skin, delicate features, and gentle, unique charm, would look absolutely fashionable in this outfit.

The saleswoman didn’t immediately take down the clothes he picked out, and with a rather cold attitude, quoted a price:

"These two pieces together cost eleven bucks and eighty cents."

Jackson seemed oblivious to her condescending look, pulling out the change from his pocket and handing it to her.

After the cashier counted the money, she wrapped the clothes in oil paper and handed them over.

"Here you are, sir."

Jackson placed the clothes in his basket and added a few household items. Thinking about the old, tattered quilt at home, he bought a new cotton quilt—five feet long, five feet wide, weighing seven pounds.

He had planned to buy two, but remembering his wife’s cold attitude toward him, he feared that if he bought another quilt, she might demand to sleep separately. If that happened, he wouldn’t have any chance of getting close to her…

So, he decided to put off buying a second quilt for now.

He also picked up some snacks, and when the basket was full, he grabbed the two overloaded baskets and started walking home.

When he reached a secluded spot, he waved his hand, and both baskets disappeared into his space.

On the way back, he took a detour to find an old hunter in his seventies. After giving the man a pile of food, he exchanged it for the hunter's precious rifle.

In this time, if you wanted to eat meat, you needed a ticket. To achieve meat freedom, you still had to rely on your own hands.

As he neared home, Jackson saw his wife, carrying their child on her back, helping his eldest brother work in the fields. Her pale face was flushed under the sun. Despite wearing old, ill-fitting clothes, her graceful figure couldn't be hidden.

She had just given birth recently, but in just a month, her body had returned to its pre-pregnancy shape, looking like she had never given birth.

Camden Scott, hunched over and working hard in the field, put down his hoe and reached for his water jug. As he prepared to drink, he looked up and saw his useless brother approaching. He immediately exploded in anger, shouting in a deep voice.

"Where the hell have you been? Where have you been messing around until now? Leaving your wife to work in the fields by herself? You good-for-nothing!"

Looking at his elder brother, Jackson's eyes grew warm, his nose tinged with emotion. He almost couldn't hold it together.

Clearing his throat, he said, "Brother, I went to town to work. I also bought some meat and flour. I'll go home and cook now. Come over for dinner tonight with your wife and child."

Hearing that Jackson had been working in town, Camden eyed him suspiciously, inspecting him from head to toe. He looked at the mud stains on his pants and then at the full baskets.

After confirming he hadn’t gone to gamble, Camden’s expression softened a little. He knew his brother’s situation—his family was so poor they couldn’t even afford to eat. Anything that could be sold had been sold, and the money either went to drinking or gambling.

His brother, despite looking decent on the outside, never did anything useful and wasted his potential. Camden sighed lightly but didn’t want to embarrass him, so he said gently, "Your wife steamed some cornmeal bread for lunch. Ask her to bring some home. We won’t go over for dinner tonight. Just make sure you treat your sister-in-law well. Don’t act up again. Remember, the prodigal son can still return."

Sophia’s father had gotten into trouble, forcing him to hide in the countryside, and his two children had been dragged down with him. If it weren’t for his brother saving Sophia, a beautiful, high school girl, the whole village wouldn’t have known about it. To protect her reputation, she had to marry their lazy brother.

But the South family wasn’t willing to take this loss, so they proposed that their youngest sister marry into the South family, making it a deeper connection between the families.

At first, Camden had refused, but after much persuasion, he finally agreed. Camden had even heard his brother drunkenly boast that if he hadn’t saved Sophia from the reservoir, she wouldn’t have been willing to marry him. His brother, full of schemes, seemed proud of this. If anyone found out, it would definitely land him in trouble.

Jackson knew exactly what his family thought of him—he was nothing but a disgrace—and didn’t say anything else. He nodded and went home, carrying the things he had bought.

He placed the items in the house and hurried to the kitchen to start cooking. To win his wife’s heart, he first had to win her stomach.

After all, she was the only woman in his life across two lifetimes. How could he not try?

When the sun began to set, Sophia, carrying their daughter and holding a few golden cornmeal bread loaves, returned home. As soon as she stepped into the yard, the smell of meat wafted from the kitchen.

Meat? Again?

She walked to the kitchen door, coldly watching Jackson, who since yesterday, seemed to have changed. There was something unsettling about him now.

At this moment, Jackson’s tall and sturdy figure stood in front of the small kitchen stove, busy with his work. The thatched mud house had a kitchen that was barely two meters high, and dried goods hung from the beams above. As he worked, his head occasionally bumped into the hanging items.

Seeing the meat, coupled with his unusually cheerful mood, it was hard to tell if he had won some money at gambling. In the past, even if he had won a small amount, he would have acted just as joyfully, like he had eaten something wonderful. If he lost, though, he would drink, get drunk, and then take out his frustration on her... beating her... treating her as a punching bag.

Sophia, exhausted after a long day, was not only tired but also so hungry her stomach felt like it was about to collapse, her legs trembling with weakness. She didn’t want to guess why he was acting this way. She turned around, went inside the house, and put the cornbread aside.

Entering the bedroom, she unstrapped her daughter from her back and carefully laid the sleeping child in the crib. As she turned around, her eyes landed on the worn-out table, where a can of baby formula sat.

The sight made blood rush to her head. She dashed out of the bedroom and into the kitchen. Without warning, she slapped Jackson.

Smack!

Jackson, holding a dish of freshly stir-fried civet meat, was stunned by the slap. Before he could ask what was wrong, he saw the tears of grievance welling up in his wife’s eyes. He quickly set the meat down on the stove, intending to wipe away her tears, but as she took a few steps back and looked at him with disdain, he retracted his hand, unsure of what to do.

“Honey, what’s wrong? What did I do wrong? Just tell me, I’ll change. Please, you’re still breastfeeding, don’t upset yourself... I’ve heard that anger is bad for your health...”

Sophia’s lips trembled as she spoke, her voice filled with sorrow, anger, and desperation:

“Did you go to my family again and threaten my mother for money? How can you be so disgraceful!”

Jackson was speechless for a moment, and for a second, all the bad things he had done in his twenties seemed to blur together. It felt like a different life altogether, and he couldn’t remember all the specifics.

When his wife suddenly brought it up, it slowly dawned on him. He remembered now—the time he had threatened his mother-in-law with a knife for money.

Realizing why she was so upset, he immediately denied it, saying, “I really didn’t do that.”

Sophia didn’t believe him at all. With anger in her eyes, she pressed, “You didn’t? Then where did you get the money to buy the formula? Do you think I don’t know how rare it is?”

Jackson quickly explained, “That’s the money I earned.” As if afraid she wouldn’t believe him, he hastily reached into his pants.

Seeing his reaction, Sophia became even angrier. “At a time like this, you’re still thinking about that?” She stepped forward and slapped him again.

Jackson couldn’t help but smile wryly. He realized his wife misunderstood, so he hurriedly said, “Honey, I didn’t do that. I was just getting something...”

He pulled out five $100 bills he had kept in his pants.