Chapter 4: The Sheng Family
“Mom…”
Sheng Wanyan called out tentatively. Hearing that weak, fragile voice, Mother Sheng felt a pang of distress, though she maintained her stern, dissatisfied expression.
“Mom…”
Seeing the girl’s red-rimmed eyes, Mother Sheng couldn’t help but pull her into a hug. This girl really knew how to play the spoiled child to get her way.
“I’m not dead yet, so stop wailing,” Mother Sheng grumbled.
Sheng Wanyan clung to her tightly. Hearing those blunt words made her heart ache with a strange sort of relief. In her previous life, her mother had already left her; the overwhelming joy of having her back made her feel dizzy with happiness.
“Your grandma cooked some porridge for you. I’ll go get it so you can have a few bites.”
Mother Sheng went to the kitchen and returned with a bowl of porridge, still looking slightly annoyed. The bowl was filled with pure white rice. In these times, white rice was a luxury reserved for the Lunar New Year or special festivals, and even then, most people only got a few mouthfuls.
Sheng Wanyan ate a little, but her body was still too weak to stay upright. Before long, she drifted back into a deep sleep.
When she woke again, it was nearly dinner time. She took a moment to look around her room. It wasn’t large—about seven square meters—containing only a small bed, a simple desk, and a wardrobe.
Despite the lack of space, everything was meticulously clean. Inside the closet hung several sets of modest gray clothes, three braided skirts, a pair of leather shoes, and three pairs of cloth shoes. In a small storage box, she found thirty yuan in cash, a few pastry tickets, and a jar of vanishing cream.
Aside from holidays, the family usually gave their pastry tickets to the original owner so she could buy treats for her grandparents. In this era, owning a skirt and leather shoes was enough to make anyone the object of envy. Since every adult in the Sheng family earned a salary, supporting Sheng Wanyan had never been a burden. Fortunately, the original owner had been a sensible, filial child who hadn’t let the doting spoil her.
Sheng Wanyan thought of her space. In this decade, food was the ultimate lifeline. She focused her mind, felt the familiar connection to her storage space, and breathed a long sigh of relief.
“Yan’er, time for dinner!”
Grandma Sheng’s voice drifted in from the living room. A moment later, the elderly woman walked through the door. Seeing her, Sheng Wanyan felt dazed once more; she looked exactly like her grandmother from the future.
The only difference was that this Grandma Sheng was much younger, perhaps in her early sixties, without the shock of white hair she’d had in the later years. However, her face was lined with the toil of the era and a clear lack of nutrition. In an age of food shortages, people were just happy to be full; no one had the luxury of worrying about vitamins.
“Yan’er, do you feel like coming out to eat?” Grandma Sheng walked over and pressed a hand to the girl’s forehead. Only after confirming the fever had broken did she finally relax.
Sheng Wanyan knew what her grandfather and father looked like from the original owner’s memories, but she needed to see them with her own eyes to be sure.
“Grandma, I’m not dizzy anymore. I can eat at the table.”
Grandma Sheng studied her face and noted that her color was indeed much better than it had been at noon. “Alright then, get yourself ready and come out. It’s good to move around when you’re getting over a sickness. Don’t stay cooped up in here.”
By the time Sheng Wanyan walked out, the whole family was already seated, waiting for her. When her eyes fell on Grandpa Sheng and her father, she was overcome with emotion. She was now one hundred percent certain: this was her family, her loved ones from another world.
What her grandfather had said was true—they were reunited. It was a different parallel world, but that was enough. As long as they were together and healthy, nothing else mattered.
She took her usual seat and scanned the living room. It was starkly simple: a round wooden dining table, a long bench, a few low stools, a wooden coffee table, and a portrait of a Great Man hanging on the wall. The kitchen was tiny, barely five square meters—hardly enough room for two people to stand.
Sheng Wanyan felt a flutter of nerves. They didn’t know the original soul had been replaced. She worried that if she spoke too much, she would slip up and they would notice something was wrong.
“You’ve been sick, eat this egg custard to build up your strength.” Grandma Sheng placed the only bowl of custard on the table in front of her. The rest of the meal consisted of steamed corn buns, pickles, a bit of leftover bacon from the New Year, and a dish of stir-fried vegetables.
Having a scent of meat on the table was considered a very good meal for this time. Sheng Wanyan looked at the white rice in her own bowl, then at the coarse corn buns in their hands. It was a painful sight; in her previous life, her family had lived in absolute luxury. Here, they were content with a simple steamed bun.
In 1973, food was scarce. It had been even worse in the preceding years, when things were so dire that people in the villages were forced to eat tree bark. Things were better now—at least you wouldn’t starve if you worked hard—but it was still a struggle.
Sheng Wanyan picked up a spoon, divided the egg custard into five portions, and began putting them into the others’ bowls.
“What are you doing, child? This is for you,” Mother Sheng protested, trying to move the custard back.
Sheng Wanyan quickly pulled her bowl away. “If you don’t eat it, then I won’t eat it either.”
She made a move to share her white rice as well. Seeing her daughter’s stubbornness, Mother Sheng quickly stopped her. “Fine, fine! I’ll eat it. I honestly don’t know where you get this temperament from.”
Grandpa Sheng caught Mother Sheng’s eye and gave her a look that clearly said, ‘It’s obvious who she gets it from.’ Mother Sheng just glared back at him.
Grandpa Sheng looked at his granddaughter with silent approval. She was a good girl, kind and filial, but she had always lacked her own opinions. It made her far too easy for others to take advantage of. He decided it was time to address the elephant in the room.
“Yan’er, do you really want to go to the countryside?”
The family couldn’t avoid the topic any longer. “I wanted you to stay at the school and become a teacher after you graduated, but I really didn’t expect your grades to drop like that…”
Mother Sheng sighed, still feeling the sting of regret. When Sheng Wanyan had graduated high school, the school had been looking for a new teacher and planned to hire from the top of the class. Her daughter had always been an honor student with a guaranteed spot, but in her final semester, her grades had plummeted until she was at the bottom of the rankings.
As Sheng Wanyan sifted through the original owner’s memories, she felt a sudden urge to curse. She had never encountered someone so incredibly foolish.
The Sheng family had few relatives. Grandpa Sheng had an older brother—her great-uncle—who had two sons and a daughter. They lived in a nearby village in Chengdu. Originally, the Shengs had been farmers, and both branches of the family had started out in the same poverty.
Back then, the two sisters-in-law had quarreled constantly. In an era where boys were valued above girls, the Great-Aunt had given birth to two sons and was highly favored by the matriarch, often aiming sharp, sarcastic remarks at Grandma Sheng for her “lack” of male heirs.
