This lifetime, she was blessed with a head full of jet-black hair—lustrous and thick—so impeccably maintained that Si Nian couldn't resist running her fingers through it every now and then, savoring its silky texture.
Beyond that, the original owner of this body had strikingly bold and elegant features, the epitome of a classic beauty with rich, vibrant allure. Even without makeup, her brows and lashes were naturally thick and long, her eyes captivating. It was enough to make anyone envious.
Not to mention, at just eighteen, she had a voluptuous figure, skin as smooth as fresh milk, and a height nearing 167 cm—yet she wasn’t bony but rather pleasingly plump, radiating a soft, rounded charm.
Women like this, with their delicate, supple skin, were practically designed to captivate men.
Of course, whether she could actually charm men or not, Si Nian didn’t know. But she herself was utterly smitten, half-tempted to fall in love with her own reflection.
Surprisingly, these features bore a seventy percent resemblance to her past life’s appearance.
But anyone who had endured the grind of early-morning routines would never have such natural radiance.
The original owner was truly a timeless beauty of her era.
After indulging in a bit of narcissistic admiration in front of the mirror, Si Nian finally headed downstairs.
The steamed buns on the table were barely touched and had gone cold.
Zhou Yuedong was sweeping the floor with a broom, while Zhou Yuehan wiped down the sofa and tables with a rag, his eyes repeatedly darting toward the buns, clearly distracted.
She had initially planned to tidy up herself—after all, it was her first day in someone else’s home, and she wanted to make a good impression. Plus, Si Nian had a mild case of OCD and couldn’t stand mess.
But these two kids were already so diligent, saving her a ton of trouble.
When they noticed her coming downstairs, both immediately lowered their heads, staying silent. The sound of sweeping grew even quieter, as if they feared she might scold them for it.
Si Nian’s eyes flickered mischievously. "While you’re at it, sweep my room too. I’ll be out for a bit."
There was still half the meat left from the buns, enough for another meal.
But the house had no vegetables, and that simply wouldn’t do.
Kids at this age needed protein, sure, but vitamins were just as crucial for their growth.
Honestly, having such good conditions—where meat wasn’t even a luxury—already put them ahead of 99.9% of people in this era.
Braised pork knuckle, soy-braised elbow, sweet and sour pork ribs, red-braised pork, stewed trotters, offal dishes, marrow bone soup...
Which of these wasn’t an absolute delicacy?
But even the cleverest housewife couldn’t cook without ingredients.
Without seasonings, she was powerless.
Stepping outside, she spotted the massive Tibetan mastiff sprawled on the ground and instinctively gave it a wide berth.
That thick chain around its neck—just how heavy was this beast?
She liked cute animals, but something this ferocious? Terrifying.
The tawny mastiff merely lifted an eyelid, glanced at the seemingly harmless woman, then rolled over and went back to sleep.
Si Nian: "…?" Could a dog like this really guard the house? Who said thieves couldn’t be delicate and dainty!
When the dog ignored her, her courage surged. She straightened her back and strutted out with exaggerated confidence.
What she didn’t notice was Zhou Yuedong’s watchful gaze from inside the house. He had caught her reaction to the dog, and as his eyes lowered, something flickered in them.
Conclusion: She was afraid of dogs.
The moment she left, Zhou Yuedong bolted upstairs. He’d been worried sick since hearing his little sister go quiet.
Pushing the door open, he froze.
In just half a day, their father’s gloomy room had transformed. The bed was now draped in soft pink bedding, the desk adorned with delicate bottles, jars, and books. A few brightly colored dresses hung by the window, swaying gently in the breeze, filling the air with a faint, pleasant fragrance.
He barely recognized the place.
Tiptoeing to the bed, he looked down at his sleeping sister. His calloused hand hovered near her nose, checking for breath, and only then did he exhale in relief.
Now he noticed—she’d been scrubbed clean, her face free of grime, her skin baby-soft and lightly scented. Even her hair, usually tangled, was smooth and fresh.
Kneeling by the bed, Zhou Yuedong stared at her peaceful, clean face, momentarily lost in thought.
Si Nian arrived at the supply and marketing cooperative. By afternoon, the best goods were long gone.
To snag fresh produce, people lined up before dawn.
When she got there, pickings were slim, but at least seasonings were still available.
She bought two packets of soy sauce, vinegar, baijiu, plus star anise, cinnamon, Sichuan peppercorns, and more. A handful of vegetables, scallions, and garlic cost her just fifty cents—prices in this era were shockingly cheap.
She didn’t bother with meat but grabbed some high-grade flour and eggs, spending two yuan.
All in all, it came to less than five yuan.
In her past life, a single bottle of soy sauce would’ve cost more than that.
Si Nian was thrilled—until reality hit.
Sugar in this era was ridiculously expensive. Those White Rabbit candies she’d given Yaoyao earlier? Five yuan per pound.
She’d planned to buy more since the kid liked them, but aside from the ten big bills from her family, she only had twenty yuan of her own pocket money left.
Back then, she wouldn’t have glanced twice at candy.
Now? She couldn’t even afford it.
Still, she gritted her teeth and bought a small bag.
White sugar was cheaper, at least. She grabbed three yuan’s worth for sweet and sour ribs.
As for the ribs themselves? She wasn’t about to buy them. She’d just ask her cheap husband for some.
He ran a pig farm, after all. Surely he could spare a few ribs?
The thought of tender, caramelized sweet and sour ribs made her mouth water.
In her past life, she’d been a total foodie, spending free time experimenting with recipes. But work had left little room for that.
Now? She had all the time in the world to cook to her heart’s content.
Honestly, the Zhou household suited her just fine.
This was the 1980s, and they were already living in a two-story house.
She’d been born in ’98, yet her childhood home had been a simple brick-and-tile dwelling—worse than what people had decades earlier.
She had no complaints.
Back in her time, her family had hounded her to marry by twenty-five. Blind date after blind date—some expected her to quit her job and play housemaid, others demanded two kids in three years.
It had given her nightmares.
But here, in this "backward" era, she had a ready-made husband with kids, no pressure to bear more—just be good to them.
How was this even real?
Free from the hassles of matchmaking and childbirth, Si Nian was brimming with excitement for her new life.
By the time she lugged her haul back to the Zhou residence, it was already five in the afternoon.
