It was late outside.
Mo Yan sat in front of her computer and placed her hands on the keyboard.
Then, she took them off without writing a single word.

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She was an unknown web novel author who wrote xianxia novels.
In her opinion, the most important thing was that the male and female leads were beautiful.

But recently xianxia novels had fallen by the wayside in favour of novels set in the past.
As Mo Yan had grown up in a small village, she thought she’d be able to come up with something good.

She had only written just over a hundred thousand words before she gave up.
[1]

This was because she was afraid any prospecting publishers wouldn’t like it, and her web novel would be laughed at in her friend groups.

Even though her parents were both farmers, she didn’t know the first thing about farming in ancient times! If only she could go to a farming village from the past to know what it was really like…

In the end, Mo Yan fell asleep before she could write anything.
A long string of gibberish started showing up on her screen.

“Yan’er, Yan’er!” [2]

A hurried shout woke her up.
As she opened her eyes, she saw a lady in ancient clothing hugging her.
When she saw that Mo Yan had woken up, her tearful face started smiling.

Mo Yan surveyed the area.
This was a farmer’s home, and although it was simple, it was kept neat and tidy.
Even though bricks hadn’t even been laid in the courtyard, it was sweeped impeccably clean.
However, the ladder to the rooftop was left on the floor.

The sky was grey and stormy, with thunder sounding in the distance.
A few chickens started pecking at the earth to try and find worms.

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Then, a sudden bout of dizziness came upon her as memories that didn’t belong to her were shoved into her brain.

This was Chenzhong Village.
Her soul had transmigrated into the body of a ten-year-old girl, who was also called Mo Yan.

There were five people in the Mo family.
Her father was Mo Zhenian, and he was always out working so he rarely came back home.
While her mother was Mrs.
Liang, who was known in the village to be someone who shouldn’t be trifled with.
However, she was a good worker.
[3]

Her brother was called Mo Feng, and he was fourteen.
He was a good-for-nothing scholar who hadn’t even comprehended a single book.
Finally, there was her sister Mo Ling.
She was sixteen and should’ve been married by now, but she had to help her mother take care of the household.
Therefore, she was constantly busy.

She really had transmigrated!

The girl in front of her wiped her tears as she lectured Mo Yan, “You scared me to death! I told you not to go to the rooftop, I can get the wheat grains by myself!”

“Big sis, don’t worry.
I’m completely fine.”

Mo Ling put her younger sister on the kang, and checked if she was ok multiple times.
Each time Mo Yan shook her head and told her she was fine.

Then, the thunder rumbling in the distance got louder, and Mo Ling ran out to get the wheat grains on the rooftop.
Even though it wasn’t much, food was still food.
If it was touched by rain and got mouldy, that would be a big waste of food.

The wheat grains were left on the rooftop because the chickens would eat it all if they saw it.
When they got hungry, their appetite was huge.

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Mo Ling had just gotten the ladder upright again when their mother rushed into the courtyard.

The sound of Mrs.
Liang’s lecturing accompanied the rumbling of the thunder.

“Didn’t I tell you to cover up the wheat grains? Why haven’t you done that yet.
If they aren’t safely in the house by the time it starts raining, I’ll-”

She’d probably continue lecturing Mo Ling for another hour if it wasn’t for a sudden coughing fit.

Mrs.
Liang was recognised by the entirety of Chenzhong Village to be a hot-headed person.
However, she wasn’t called a shrew because she wasn’t illogical, she just had a short fuse.

Mo Ling ignored her as she quickly climbed up onto the rooftop, bundled up the wheat grains, and put them into a sack.
Then, as it hadn’t started raining yet, she breathed a sigh of relief as she covered the sack with an oilcloth and used a brick to hold it down before coming down from the rooftop.

Sitting in front of the stove in the kitchen, Mo Ling finally got to take a well-deserved break.
As she saw that her mother hadn’t come back yet, she grabbed something from a basket suspended in mind-air.

There were eggs inside that basket, laid by the few chickens that they had.
As they were afraid rats would get to them and eat them, they’d suspended the basket in mid-air.
Next to it was another basket with leftovers inside.

Mo Ling took a little water from the well to wash an egg.
Then, she secretly shoved it into a pot of porridge to cook.

When it was dark, it finally started raining.
Mo Feng had gotten home from school and started asking when he could eat.

Mrs.
Liang had also joined them and asked, “Feng’er, you’re back.
Are you tired from studying?”

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Mo Feng ignored her and hollered at the kitchen again, “Is dinner ready yet!”

Mo Ling quenched the rage in her heart and replied, “Almost.
We can eat soon.”

She knew that she’d be scolded by her mother again if she spoke rudely towards Mo Feng, and she didn’t want to risk Mrs.
Liang getting another coughing fit.
Even since Mo Yan was born, she had developed a persistent cough.
It wasn’t too bad during the summer, but during the winter she’d cough so much she’d practically be unable to catch her breath.

There wasn’t any need to add more kindling to the cooking fire, so Mo Ling wanted to check on Mo Yan.
It was dark inside the room, and she wanted to light a lamp.
But then, she heard Mo Yan, who was still on the kang, say, “Let’s just go out!”

Mo Yan got down from the kang and walked towards her sister.
Thankfully, there wasn’t a lot of furniture in the room, so she didn’t fall over anything.

Suddenly, Mo Ling remembered the egg she had left with the porridge.
She left her sister behind and rushed towards the kitchen.

On the kitchen table, Mrs.
Liang had put down a bowl of salted vegetables, a small bowl of soy sauce and a plate of green beans, fried without any salt or much oil.
This was all the family had aside from the porridge.
It was pretty good, but they were currently in the harvest season.
Come winter, they’d be lucky to have the salted vegetables.

Mo Feng had already flipped open the pot lid where she had placed the egg and was about to help himself to some porridge when Mo Ling hurriedly tried to stop him, “Let me do it.”

But she was a bit too late, and Mo Feng had already started scooping the porridge into his bowl.
He felt there was something hard in the pot, so he scooped that up too and grinned, “There’s even an egg for me! Not bad, you know I’m hungry.”

Mo Ling grabbed the ladle he was holding and said, “Put it down, that’s not for you.”

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“If it’s not for me, who’s it for? Mum? She’ll definitely let me have it.” After saying that, he raised up the egg into the air and yelled, “Mum, I’m eating this egg ok?”

Mrs.
Liang was confused, “What egg?”

It wasn’t for Mum! Mo Feng glared at Mo Ling, “So you were going to eat it in secret!”

That triggered Mo Ling and she smacked the hand Mo Feng was using to hold his bowl, “Scram! This egg is for Yan’er, her body’s weak and she needs it to make her body stronger!”

Once he heard the egg was for Mo Yan, Mo Feng was full of shock and confusion, “Her? She doesn’t need it.
She doesn’t do anything and just eats and sleeps all day.
Does she think she’s the daughter of a noble?” [4]

Mrs.
Liang slapped the table and roared, “Those eggs are meant to be sold! You unfilial child! Are you trying to make us go bankrupt?”

Mo Yan had just entered the kitchen at this point, and thought to herself, It would’ve been fine if her life was a little harder, but coupled with this fiery mother of mine, this might not be good.

Post editing notes: Some of the locations might be wonky for a while, but I’ll try to draw a map as soon as I wrap my head around the house.
[1] By Chinese web novel standards, that’s practically nothing.
[2] Yan’er is an endearing term.
[3] Yes, Mrs.
Liang is what she’s called in the story.
No, I didn’t make that up.
[4] I think this brother will be a real piece of work.

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