Wei Lian slept deeply that night.
The new mattress cradled her body, the fresh cotton pillows supported her head, and her daughters' soft breathing created a warmth unlike any blanket.
For the first time since arriving in this world—
her sleep was peaceful.
When she opened her eyes, the sky outside the small window was tinted with a pale orange glow.
The sun had not fully risen yet, but the horizon shimmered.
She turned slightly.
Her daughters slept soundly, curled around each other in a clumsy tangle:
Xinyu's arm resting on Qingmei's stomach,
Qingmei's foot on Xiaotang's knee,
Xiaotang's head buried in Wei Lian's blanket.
Their tall bodies looked ridiculous with their toddler-like sleeping positions.
Wei Lian could not help smiling gently.
She lifted the edge of the quilt and tucked it around them, smoothing their hair one by one.
"My babies… sleep well."
It was almost 5 o'clock.
She used to sleep ten hours in the future, but here—
people slept early, at 8 pm, because there was no entertainment.
Her body naturally woke with sunrise.
She couldn't lie down again.
Her mind was alert.
She stood up quietly, washed her face softly with warm water, and brushed her teeth with a twig, scrubbing until her mouth felt fresh.
Today… she had work to do.
She slipped into simple clothes, tied her hair, and took a big bamboo basket, a hoe, a knife, and a rope, placing them all over her shoulders.
"I should go collect soil," she murmured.
"If I start making clay plates today, they will dry under the sun by afternoon."
Settling her tools firmly, she stepped outside.
Her home was at the very end of the village—
two steps from the mountain forest.
Morning dew sparkled on leaves, birds chirped lightly, and fresh earthy scents filled the air.
Her body felt unusually light.
Not weak like the original owner.
Not dizzy.
Not tired.
Eating vegetables and food produced by her daughters' space…
it was changing her.
Strengthening her.
Healing her.
Her steps were brisk and smooth as she walked toward the forest entrance.
She didn't go deep—
there was no need.
Just a few meters inside, she paused.
On a fallen log, mushrooms bloomed in clusters—white-capped, thick-stemmed, fresh with morning dew.
She knelt to examine them closely.
She remembered them clearly from her modern life—
a safe edible variety.
Here, however, villagers were too scared to pick mushrooms.
They didn't know which were poisonous.
Most avoided mushrooms completely.
Wei Lian picked them carefully, filling half her basket.
"So many," she whispered.
"All nearby… I can collect again later."
Just as she turned to leave, she heard a faint sound.
Cheep… cheep… cheep…
Her head whipped around.
Inside a thick bush, something moved.
She pushed the branches aside—
Her breath caught.
There was a hen, lying weakly on the ground.
Almost motionless.
Feathers ruffled.
Breathing faint.
Around her, six tiny chicks huddled together, chirping desperately.
The mother was dying.
Wei Lian's first thought was—
If she saved them,
they would lay eggs for the family.
They would provide meat when needed.
They would give her daughters joy.
Her second thought—
These chicks would have died today if she didn't find them.
She didn't hesitate.
She gently picked up the sick mother hen and placed her in the basket.
Then she gathered the six fluffy chicks—each the size of a fist—carefully placing them beside their mother.
The chicks huddled instantly around the hen, chirping worriedly.
"It's okay," Wei Lian whispered.
"Mama is here. We'll take care of you."
With mushrooms and chickens secured, she walked back home.
This was only the first trip—
she would return soon for soil.
She entered the backyard, set the basket down in the kitchen, and placed the weak hen in a corner with a soft cloth under her belly.
Then she took out corn seeds from her daughters' space supply.
The moment the seeds hit the floor—
The chicks rushed forward.
Pecking.
Eating.
Excited.
Even the sick mother hen moved slightly and pecked weakly.
Wei Lian smiled, relieved.
"They'll survive."
She left the door slightly open so the chicks could wander but not escape.
Then she picked up the basket again.
"Now for the soil."
---
✨ Collecting Red and White Clay Soil
The forest held many secrets—
including two precious types of clay soil:
White clay for porcelain-like dishes.
Red clay for strong jars and cooking pots.
She walked back to the forest edge, found a familiar mound of soft, pale soil, and began digging.
One basket full.
She returned home, emptied it into a corner near the wall.
Second basket.
Third basket.
By the end, she had enough soil to make:
• jars
• plates
• tea cups
• bowls
• a stove burner
• and even small clay toys for her daughters
Her shoulders ached slightly, but her body felt strong—
surprisingly strong.
She cleaned her hands at the well, wiping away sweat and dirt.
When she stepped into the yard—
Her daughters were awake.
And froze.
All three stared at the fluffy chicks hopping around the kitchen like tiny balls of feathers.
"Mama… birds?"
"Chick babies!"
"So cute!!"
The girls rushed inside, crouching near the chicks, patting them clumsily.
The chicks weren't scared—
they chirped happily, running in circles around the girls' long legs.
Even Xiaotang squealed with joy.
The sick mother hen lifted her head weakly.
Wei Lian smiled.
She clapped to gather her daughters' attention.
"Alright, come here. First, wash your face and brush your teeth."
"Mama, brush brush!"
"Wash wash!"
"Okay!"
She gave each girl:
• a twig
• a small water bucket
• a cloth
The three girls stood by the well, brushing their teeth the way she taught them, splashing water all over each other.
Their laughter filled the air.
After cleaning themselves, they rushed inside again, following the chicks.
Wei Lian stepped into the kitchen to begin breakfast.
---
✨ Breakfast — Simple Porridge and Warm Morning Light
Since the weather was cool, she decided to prepare something light—
simple porridge.
She scooped rice into a clay pot, added plenty of water, a pinch of salt, a few chopped vegetables, and a tiny dash of chicken broth left over from last night.
As the pot simmered, a comforting, warm smell filled the kitchen.
The girls gathered around again.
"Porridge smell good!"
"Mama cooking yum yum!"
"Eat now?"
"Patience," Wei Lian chuckled. "A little more."
When the porridge thickened, steaming and fragrant, she ladled it into wooden bowls.
Her daughters sat cross-legged on the floor, bowls in hand.
First spoon—
"Hot…"
"Blow, Mama!"
"Mm! Tasty!"
Their eyes sparkled, cheeks flushed.
The chicks moved around their feet, chirping.
Wei Lian watched them—
her heart full.
A simple morning, but full of life.
A home that had once been full of despair now carried warmth, laughter, and the scent of a peaceful dawn.
She sipped her porridge slowly, watching her daughters eat happily.
Tomorrow, the soap would be ready.
Tomorrow, she could start shaping clay plates.
Tomorrow, vegetables would sprout tall.
A new life had truly begun.