The next morning, before the sky had even started to lighten, Jackson opened his eyes.

He gently pulled his arm, which had been resting under his wife’s head, and quietly got out of bed.

He walked over to the small bed, carefully picked up his daughter, and gently placed her beside Sophia, making sure to tuck the little quilt around her.

He put on his clean, though somewhat worn clothes, lifted the curtain, and stepped outside. After unfastening the latch, he went to the outhouse in the yard.

After living a life of comfort for most of his past life, the smell of the outhouse was something he couldn’t tolerate. It made his head spin, his vision blur, and his eyes water.

He thought to himself that as soon as he returned home, he’d have to clean up that outhouse.

He quickly brushed his teeth and washed his face with cold water.

Turning to the kitchen, he started a fire and made breakfast—thick rice porridge paired with salted and savory dried radish.

By the time everything was ready, the sky had just begun to show the faintest light.

Not wanting to waste any time, he quietly packed up his things, then went over to his wife and daughter, still sound asleep in bed. In the dim light, he gently kissed each of them on the forehead.

Taking his things and chewing on a piece of coarse bread, he stepped out the door, shutting it behind him as he left.

Today was market day, and although it was still early, there were already quite a few people on the road.

In those days, if a family in the countryside had a two-wheeled bicycle, that was considered to be in relatively good shape. Most people still had to rely on their two legs to get around.

For those living close by, they’d carry a shoulder pole with baskets; if they needed to transport goods, they used a hand-pulled cart.

Jackson was strong and quick, in the prime of his life. His steps were powerful as he walked, like the wind.

He was thinking to himself that he needed to get his business done quickly and buy some tools. He couldn’t afford to waste a single moment. With swift steps, he made his way to the town and caught the first bus to the county seat.

Back then, transportation wasn’t as convenient, and many people never left their town in their whole lives.

As he gazed out the window, Jackson’s mind was occupied with plans to make money over the next couple of years, aiming to have enough capital by then.

Before he knew it, the rickety bus had arrived at the county seat.

The county town had already seen some progress, with motorized tricycles and even the rare four-wheeled cars.

Using his memories from his past life, Jackson quickly found a larger pharmacy.

The middle-aged man with a square face looked him up and down as soon as Jackson pulled out his items. The man took the wild Dendrobium root carefully and inspected it closely.

It was an old and rare wild Dendrobium, in excellent condition, each root intact. The man couldn’t help but be surprised, wondering where this young man had gotten such a fresh and valuable item.

He carefully placed the Dendrobium on the counter and, trying to gauge Jackson’s understanding of its value, asked how much he was asking for it.

The man’s gaze met Jackson’s, and he sensed a rare maturity in the young man, an unexpected wisdom for his age.

Despite wearing patched-up clothes, Jackson exuded a sense of grounded maturity, which led the man to think he wasn’t just some ignorant farmer. He must have some knowledge about herbs.

When Jackson gave a price without hesitation, the man didn’t push back but immediately knew Jackson wasn’t someone easy to fool. After glancing at his basket, the man invited Jackson to the back courtyard.

The two of them spent nearly an hour negotiating. In the end, Jackson sold him two Dendrobium roots, one knotweed, as well as deer antlers and deer penises.

Thanks to his space, he could store things without needing to process them, or else the deer penises would’ve spoiled after these few days.

In this exchange, the two of them had formed a connection. The pharmacy owner had wide connections, and important figures in the county often came to buy rare goods from him.

There were many who privately believed in traditional Chinese medicine, and these were all precious medicinal herbs.

Especially the deer antlers and penises, which were indeed valuable.

That’s why the owner had no hesitation in purchasing all five items from Jackson, paying him in cash.

Normally, small pharmacies couldn’t afford such a large sum of money. Jackson knew that, which is why he had only offered one Dendrobium root at first as a test.

It just so happened that the owner had prepared the cash to purchase new herbs, so everything worked out.

By the time Jackson left the pharmacy, he was satisfied with the deal, pocketing thirty bills.

With the money in hand, he went to the state-owned market. He wanted to buy a washing machine, but when he asked the salesman, he was stunned.

He slapped his forehead, realizing that his memory had become confused. While washing machines existed, they were used only in hotels and laundromats, not yet for household use. The first domestic washing machine wasn’t manufactured until 1878, so it wasn’t even available yet.

However, he unexpectedly managed to get a ticket for a refrigerator. Without hesitation, he bought it. He also bought some oil tickets, meat tickets, and flour tickets.

The black market traders saw that he was a big spender and treated him with extra enthusiasm.

When they heard he was buying a refrigerator, they helped him find someone with a tractor.

For just five bucks, they could get everything delivered to his doorstep.

Without thinking, Jackson agreed, buying his wife a bright red sweater, pants, and leather shoes from the market.

He also bought his child some new clothes and cotton socks.

He didn’t forget to pick up a few new cotton blankets, and in total, the load filled almost half a cart.

The tractor driver was dumbfounded, unable to believe that this young man, wearing worn-out clothes, had so much money.

How much did all of this cost?

He had been worried Jackson wouldn’t be able to pay the five bucks, thinking he’d have to pay first. But now, he realized he had been worrying for nothing.

By the time Jackson finished his “big shopping,” it was already afternoon.

He sat on the tractor, the uneven road causing the cart to jolt. He had to hold onto the refrigerator to keep it steady.

Meanwhile, back at home, Sophia woke up in the morning to find the child still sleeping beside her. Jackson had left without her noticing.

She had been so tired the night before that she had fallen asleep. When she heard the baby crying in the middle of the night, she wanted to check on it but was stopped by Jackson.

He didn’t let her get up and quickly got up himself.

Sophia watched as Jackson turned on the light and walked over to the child’s small bed.

With large, clumsy hands, he checked the baby’s diaper with a careful touch. Once the baby stopped crying, he was able to relax and go back to sleep.

When she woke up again, the sky was bright, and she dragged her exhausted body out of bed.

She noticed that before Jackson left, he had already tidied up the food.

On the table were yellow eggs and sizzling chunks of meat. Sophia couldn’t help but feel a little uneasy.

How could they eat so much oil on a normal day? The meat was practically soaked in it.

Her father never ate like this even when things were going well.

With this wasteful attitude, their family would eventually be ruined.

Sophia only ate a few bites of egg with a small piece of coarse bread. She didn’t touch the meat, thinking she’d save it for Jackson when he returned.

He had a big appetite, and with all the work he’d been doing lately, he needed to replenish his energy.

Jackson: “You don’t need to save it for me, honey. That’s the venison I saved for you. It’s for your health.”

Before midday, the village head, Blake, arrived with a young, bright-eyed girl.

“Jackson’s wife, this is Meilani Lively, a young lady from the city. She’ll be staying with you from now on. Can you prepare a room for her?”

Sophia was momentarily confused. How could she accommodate another young woman in their small house?

They only had three rooms—one for her and Jackson, the main room for meals, and another room full of clutter. There wasn’t anywhere for Meilani to stay.

“Blake, Jackson isn’t here. I can’t make decisions like that.”

Blake smiled, his face full of wrinkles, and waved dismissively. He turned to Meilani and gave her a few instructions before walking away.

If it hadn’t been for Jackson’s kindness in sending him the meat, he would never have arranged for such a delicate, young girl to stay in their home.

This group of intellectual youth included more than twenty people, most of them young and strong men. This was the only fragile young girl, and he thought it was better than sending a man.

Living in a small house with his wife, it was definitely better to have a young girl sent over than a young man. After all, when it came to nighttime matters, a young girl was far more convenient than a young man—there was no need to hide anything, and there was no worry about his young, beautiful wife being eyed by someone else.

Meilani, left behind at the house, held her canvas bag tightly as she surveyed the three dilapidated mud rooms. A chill ran down her spine. It seemed the days ahead would be harder for her than for the other educated youth sent to the countryside.

Her friends had been assigned to a family that seemed to be living quite comfortably—a middle-aged couple with three children, all well-dressed and radiant. On the way here, she had heard rumors about the family she was assigned to: the man wasn’t a good person, prone to drinking, gambling, and even beating his wife. The family was desperately poor, barely able to afford a pot. Before arriving, she had thought those stories sounded exaggerated, but now, seeing the situation, it seemed they weren’t far from the truth.

The woman of the house wore worn-out, ill-fitting clothes, yet she was stunningly beautiful. Her delicate features were as if she had stepped out of a painting, in no way resembling a typical rural woman.