I want to cry; the Jin family is just too kind.

On Meng Yun’s side, seeing the Zhou family’s house, she couldn’t help but want to compose a poem: “Firewood, rice, oil, salt, soy sauce, vinegar, tea—everything is found in someone else’s home!” This family was truly poor.

The main house had four rooms; the east and west wings each had three rooms, all made of thatch. The west wing’s gable wall was warped, propped up by several large wooden stakes on the outside. One heavy rain or windstorm could easily tear the thatched roof apart.

In the courtyard stood a peach tree, already bearing many small peaches. A wooden table sat nearby—likely where the family ate during summer. The yard was a vegetable garden, meticulously tended, with robust crops growing. The fence was made of thorny dry branches, and the gate was crafted from bamboo strips.

“Yun’er, come inside quickly,” Zhou Yaru said with a smile. “This is our home’s condition; I hope you won’t mind.”

“Never, Mother. From now on, this is my home too.” Meng Yun glanced around her new surroundings. This would be her home from now on.

“Chuan’er, take Yun’er to your room to rest first. Yun’er will sleep in the new room tonight; you and An’er can share,” Zhou Yaru arranged matters carefully. Even though the wedding was tomorrow, the proper rituals could not be neglected—no room for embarrassment.

“Sister…” Jin Yanchuan looked plaintive.

“Take me to your room,” Meng Yun said, looking at Jin Yanchuan’s exquisitely carved face. He reminded her a little of a certain celebrity—she couldn’t quite place it, but the resemblance grew stronger the more she looked.

“Why are you staring at me like that, sister?” Jin Yanchuan blushed slightly.

“Because you’re handsome.” Meng Yun took his hand, and the two entered the east wing like close friends.

Meng Yun had assumed Jin Yanchuan’s room would be as impoverished as the rest of the house, but stepping inside, she found it relatively luxurious.

There was a double bed, a wardrobe, a bookshelf filled with many books. The sheets and covers were faded and patched in places but clean.

“Sister, please sit,” Jin Yanchuan said, pulling her down.

“Have you studied before, Chuan’er?” Meng Yun asked.

Jin Yanchuan looked at the books on the table. “Mother says I studied for four years, but I don’t remember. I recognize many characters, but I don’t remember ever going to school.” He was puzzled by the contradiction.

Meng Yun smiled at his expression, feeling both amused and tender. She didn’t know what he had been through, but she would stay by his side. If her wood spirit power returned, she could heal him. Perhaps one day, he might even become a top scholar.

Zhou Yaru entered the kitchen and prepared four dishes. After all, it was Yun’er’s first day in the family; they couldn’t let the child down.

Stir-fried pork with cabbage—only four or five slices of meat—scrambled eggs with chives, a cold dish of bok choy, and smashed cucumber salad.

---

The July heat was at its peak, alternating between hot and cool. The rice was a mixture of polished and brown rice.

“An’er, call your eldest brother and sister-in-law to come eat,” Zhou Yaru said, apron tied, bustling in and out with dishes. Jin Qiao’er helped out as well.

Jin Shan returned from the back mountain. Seeing such a sumptuous dinner, he knew the matter was settled.

Jin Yanchuan led Meng Yun outside. The whole family was gathered in the yard. Zhou Yaru introduced each in turn. “This is your father, this is An’er, the second son; this is Zhe’er, the fourth; and this is the youngest, Qiao’er.”

“Father, second brother, fourth brother, little sister,” Meng Yun greeted sweetly. Judging by appearances, the Jin family seemed upright and kind. Even though her father-in-law wore a mask, his sharp, bright eyes spoke volumes—he was a man with a story.

“Sit down,” Jin Shan said, somewhat flustered by the sudden “father” address. Fortunately, the mask concealed his expression.

At the table, Meng Yun felt the family’s warmth once more. Everyone eagerly offered her food—a feeling she had never known in that other home.

“Thank you, Father. Thank you, Mother. Thank you, brothers and sisters,” Meng Yun said, not one to dwell on melancholy, but at that moment, her heart was full and tears threatened to spill. The Jin family was so kind!

She savored each bite—it was the first real meal the original owner had ever tasted in her sixteen years and the most loving meal Meng Yun had ever enjoyed.

Meng Yun also served others, and the family ate together in harmony.

After dinner, Meng Yun volunteered to wash the dishes.

“Yun’er, Qiao’er already did some. You’ve had a long day; go rest,” Zhou Yaru said, unwilling to let her daughter-in-law work on her very first day.

“It’s nothing, Mother. Just washing dishes isn’t tiring.” Meng Yun carried the bowls and chopsticks into the kitchen and looked around.

At that moment, she wanted to compose another poem: “No millet for the chickens by day, no grain for the mice by night.”

Apart from the food brought home today, there was barely anything edible in the kitchen.

How could a family be this poor?

Thinking of her father-in-law’s face, his uneven breathing, An’s injured leg, Chuan’er’s intellect, and even Zhou Yaru’s own weak health—her lungs inflamed and wheezing like bellows—it was no wonder they had no money. No amount of silver could buy enough medicine.

---

Meng Yun longed once again for her supernatural power. If her wood spirit power returned, healing everyone would be effortless. But she did not have it, and frustration welled up inside.

Jin Qiao’er boiled water for the family to wash.

Jin Yanchuan brought a basin to Meng Yun. “Sister, wash up.”

“Thank you, Chuan’er,” Meng Yun smiled. In her past life, her greatest wish was a world without zombies and zombie beasts—a quiet, beautiful place to retire, plant flowers and trees, and occasionally enter the mountains to release her wood spirit power and rejuvenate. If she had a handsome, obedient boyfriend—a little puppy to distract her hormones—that life wouldn’t be bad.

And now, that wish was almost fulfilled. Though imperfect, the direction was right.

“Y-you’re welcome,” Jin Yanchuan stammered, shy.

“Go rest now,” Meng Yun said, noticing he hesitated to leave.

“Oh, Mother said if you need anything, just call me. I’ll be with An’er and Zhe’er,” Jin Yanchuan said, pointing to the west wing less than ten yards away.

“All right, I understand,” Meng Yun smiled.

After Jin Yanchuan left, Meng Yun closed the door, took off her clothes, and wiped herself with a damp cloth. Though there was no sweat smell, the heat was uncomfortable. After freshening up, she felt much better and changed into the new clothes her mother-in-law had bought—comforting and soft.

Lying on the bed beneath Jin Yanchuan’s quilt, a faint scent of soapberries brought her peace. She had expected difficulty sleeping in a new place but soon drifted into dreams.

She slept until dawn when Zhou Yaru knocked early.

“Mother, good morning!” Meng Yun opened the door.

“Yun’er, how did you rest? The bed is a bit hard. After a while, I’ll make a quilt filled with reed fluff to lay underneath—it will soften it.”