After working in the backyard, Wei Lian's hands were stained with soil, her face warm from the sun. Her daughters' clothes and hands were just as dirty.
She clapped her hands lightly.
"Come, let's wash first."
She led her daughters to the old well in the courtyard.
The cold water splashed onto her palms, washing away the soil and sweat. She scrubbed her face gently, the coolness waking her instantly.
Then she turned to her daughters.
"Hands out."
Three pairs of long teenage arms stretched out obediently like little chicks.
She cleaned their fingers, palms, and finally their faces.
Qingmei tried to drink the water and choked.
Xiaotang splashed her own nose.
Xinyu stood still, quietly watching her mother's expression.
Wei Lian dried all three with a clean cloth and smiled.
"Good girls. Now Mama will cook pancakes for lunch."
At the word pancake, her daughters instantly straightened.
"Pancake! Pancake!"
"Mama cook yummy pancake!"
"Mama best!"
Wei Lian laughed softly and went into the kitchen. But as she began kneading the flour, a sudden thought hit her.
She forgot to plant ginger and garlic.
These two things were essential for flavor.
She looked outside—there was still a small patch of earth left.
"I'll plant them after cooking," she decided.
She mixed flour, chopped vegetables, a pinch of salt from Xiaotang's supply, and a few small pieces of chicken. The sizzling sound filled the kitchen, and rich fragrance seeped into the air.
Her daughters sniffed from the doorway, eyes sparkling, hands clapping like excited toddlers.
When the pancakes were done— crispy on the outside, soft on the inside — she called out:
"Girls, put plates on the table."
Immediately, the three big girls ran like obedient little puppies.
They grabbed plates and chopsticks, placing them neatly on the low wooden table.
One plate fell on the floor, and the daughter froze.
"It's okay," Wei Lian chuckled. "Mama will get more later."
She served the hot pancakes.
The moment her daughters took a bite—
"Mama! Best food!"
"So tasty!"
"Mama is very good cooker!"
Wei Lian's heart softened as she watched them eat with joy filling their innocent faces.
After lunch, she said:
"Now you can rest."
But all three shook their heads hard.
"No! We slept when Mama go market!"
"Not tired!"
"We help Mama!"
Their devotion warmed her deeply.
They helped her wash plates, though Xiaotang splashed more water on herself than the plates.
As she cleaned, a thought crossed her mind—
They didn't have enough plates.
And then she remembered her past life.
After she left her MLMC secretary job while pregnant, she opened a small business making handmade clay plates — beautiful, delicate, and famous across the continent.
Looking around now…
The soil here was perfect.
White clay.
Red clay.
She could easily make cups, bowls, plates.
"Tomorrow," she whispered. "I'll collect soil and make plates."
For now, there was still work to do.
"Xinyu, give Mama ginger and garlic seeds."
Her eldest daughter nodded and produced the seeds instantly.
Wei Lian took them to the backyard, kneeling to plant the final row. She covered them with soil and patted gently.
"Qingmei," she called.
Her middle daughter hurried over, hands glowing.
"Grow them."
With concentration, the soil trembled, and the shoots sprouted—
first small, then taller, thicker—
soon forming neat rows of ginger and garlic.
In two days, they would be ready for harvest.
Wei Lian kissed Qingmei's forehead.
"Wonderful job."
"Ehehe," Qingmei blushed.
She then sent all three daughters to play.
Now alone for a moment, she walked to the flower patch.
The hibiscus, roses, and lavender had bloomed beautifully in the sunlight.
She bent down and plucked the finest ones—
soft pink roses, deep purple lavender, and large red hibiscus.
Time to make scented soap.
But as she held the flowers in her hands, a thought struck her—
She still hadn't seen her own reflection.
She carried the flowers to the well.
The water surface shimmered in the afternoon light, calm and mirror-like.
When she leaned over and saw her reflection—
She froze.
A breath caught in her throat.
It was her.
Her face from the future.
The same eyes.
The same shape.
The same lips.
Only paler.
Thinner.
A little hollow from starvation.
But unmistakably—
her face.
Tears pricked her eyes.
At least something familiar had followed her into this world.
She touched her cheek gently.
"So it's really me…"
Then she looked behind her—her daughters playing in the yard.
Their pale faces…
their delicate features…
their eyes—the same shape as their father's.
Her chest tightened.
They were only three years old when they transmigrated.
They still couldn't control their adult bodies properly.
But she could imagine—
If they grew up again in this world…
they would look exactly like they did in the future.
Beautiful.
Bright.
Perfect.
A part of her heart ached at the memory of their father…
but she pushed it away.
This world gave her a second chance.
She would raise them again.
Protect them from every pain.
She wiped her eyes and turned back toward the blooming flowers and her daughters' laughter.
Her new life had just begun.