Jackson had a deep, almost unreal sleep. The night had been interrupted twice by his daughter, who cried loudly both times, but somehow, he remained undisturbed. It wasn’t until early morning, when the sky had just begun to lighten, that his decades-old biological clock kicked in, and he groggily opened his eyes.

Instead of finding himself in the luxurious hospital room he’d become accustomed to over the past several years, he was staring at the dilapidated beams of an old house from decades ago, riddled with bug holes and coated in darkness. It took a moment for him to process the reality—he wasn’t dreaming!

Turning over, he saw his wife curled up, her back turned to him, facing the wall. In the narrow four-and-a-half-foot bed, she kept a wide distance from him, the glaring absence between them making it feel like a chasm. Her delicate, pale skin was exposed in a ragged old tank top, the soft, smooth flesh tinged with a hint of pink. Jackson couldn’t help but feel a rush of desire, his throat dry as he gazed at her. After all, it had been years since he last had a woman, and since his previous life was marked by his harsh separation from her, he hadn’t even thought about seeking another.

But now, seeing his wife so close, the old feelings stirred again. It had been years—he had long forgotten this sensation. Swallowing hard, he reached out, cautiously pulling her into his arms. The warmth and softness of her body made him feel as though he had been transported back to his twenties. It was like a dream, surreal and almost impossible.

Could this second chance at life be connected to his wife’s safety charm? Was this the universe giving him a new opportunity?

As he was about to lean down and kiss her, his wife suddenly stiffened in his arms, clearly rejecting his touch. Jackson realized that he had woken her.

Suppressing the bitterness in his heart and stifling his desires, he reluctantly climbed out of bed. Wearing nothing but his boxers, with his bare chest exposed, he strode over to the outdoor latrine, the pungent smell hitting him immediately.

He couldn’t help but marvel at how good he felt—youthful again. It had been years since he felt this energized. He had to admit, his younger body was a blessing.

He told himself that for now, he would have to endure and make sacrifices, particularly in regard to his little buddy (his self-deprecating reference to his own body). Once his wife was no longer repulsed by him, he’d make it up to himself.

Grabbing his freshly washed clothes from the clothesline, he sniffed them—they still carried the clean, fresh scent of soap. They were slightly damp, but he didn’t care. He quickly put them on.

Sneaking back into the room, he began to unpack the items from the basket and laid them out on the table. At that moment, Sophia sat up in bed and, with a cold expression, spoke to him.

“If you really want to change, you need to get a job. If you’re willing to work hard, you can earn a few cents a day, and in a month, that adds up to a few dozen pennies. Our family doesn’t have many expenses, so we can make do.”

Although this was nothing compared to the thirty or so cents a city worker could earn in a month, it was enough to live on in the countryside.

Jackson was thrilled to hear her speak to him, stopping his actions for a moment. He knew she wanted him to get a steady job, but fate had given him a second chance at life. How could he not seize the opportunity?

He didn’t want his wife to live on bread alone; he wanted to provide for her and their child with luxury, making sure they had every indulgence, just like in his previous life when he tasted all the finest foods from around the world, including national banquets and Michelin-starred restaurants. He wanted to give his wife that experience.

But, of course, he couldn’t tell her this yet.

He needed to first accumulate enough capital to change their status. The next few years were crucial. In his past life, after Sophia and their daughter "left," Jackson had wandered aimlessly for some time before encountering a benefactor who gave him the chance to work as a waiter at a state-run store. With his smooth talk, he gradually rose to become the manager, gaining access to important people.

This life, however, would not follow the same path. He intended to make money through his own efforts, and hunting and collecting stone orchids were his fastest means of earning. Unlike before, when he had wandered aimlessly, now he had the memory of his previous life, allowing him to know exactly where to find the orchids. It felt like he was using cheat codes in a game—how could he not take advantage of this?

The real challenge was explaining this to Sophia without making her suspicious of his motivations.

Sophia, sensing he was not responding, knew he was stubborn and wouldn’t be persuaded, so she pulled the blanket back over herself and lay down again.

Feeling a bit guilty, she said coldly, “The pot in the kitchen still has some bread for you.”

At her words, Jackson’s eyebrows lifted, a smile breaking across his face. He quickly crossed the room and bent down to give her a quick kiss on the cheek.

Still holding her tightly, his jaw resting against her neck, he spoke in a low, affectionate tone, “Honey, I spoke to our big brother yesterday. You don’t need to help them today. As for the pork in the kitchen, we’ll send half of it to your family when we have the chance.”

As his masculine scent enveloped her, Sophia’s heart raced, her breath catching in her throat. She thought he was about to lash out in anger for her comment, but instead, his lips gently brushed against her cheek, leaving her stunned.

Jackson, not forgetting to kiss their daughter on the way out, left quickly. Sophia, still in shock, lay there, frozen, until he was long gone.

The house, now dim, felt empty with only her and their daughter left in the room. She lay there, contemplating, still unable to sleep. Eventually, when the sun was high, she got up slowly.

Before she could finish getting ready, a knock came at the door. When she opened it, she saw Gemma Lister standing there.

“Sophia, I heard from Cara that you had meat yesterday? Did Jackson win big gambling? How much did he win? It’s rare for him to buy meat,” Gemma said with a sly smile, her eyes already darting toward the kitchen.

As she peeked inside, Gemma saw the large chunk of meat hanging from the kitchen beam—at least ten pounds. Her eyes bulged. Could Jackson have stolen it? How much would something like that cost?

Her own family hadn’t had meat in months, and now, seeing it here, she was envious.

“Look, Jackson, you need to keep an eye on your husband,” Gemma said sharply. “Gambling and drinking are bad habits, but stealing and robbing—that’s something else entirely. He could end up in labor camp if it gets bad enough.”

Sophia’s face darkened.

“Gemma, what are you talking about?”

Gemma, seeing the anger in Sophia’s eyes, quickly backed down, forcing a smile. “I’m just worried about Jackson. You know, my husband and he are brothers. It’s not like I’m some outsider.”

Then, with a sudden shift in attitude, Gemma tried to sound more friendly. “I just thought, since my Preston has been begging for meat, maybe you could lend me some. I’ll have your brother-in-law send some money over later.”