Chapter 3: Chapter 3: White Rice Porridge, Little Radishes

Damn it, if only I’d transmigrated a day earlier—I wouldn’t have ended up in a situation where I had to sell myself.

These days, you need an introduction letter to go anywhere. If you run off without any proof or paperwork, you’re just a vagrant.

After cursing the King of the Underworld eight hundred times in her mind, Gu Qinghuan finally accepted reality—there was no going back.

Since I’m here, I might as well make the best of it.

First things first, she needed to figure out how to get out of her current predicament.

*Gurgle, gurgle...*

Her stomach was growling with hunger.

Gu Qinghuan suddenly remembered the “golden finger” the King of the Underworld had promised her. She had no idea where it was, how to access the space, or if she needed to do something dramatic like drip blood to claim ownership.

Just as she was thinking about it, she suddenly found herself in a bright, spacious place. The hard, uncomfortable brick bed was gone, replaced by a soft, cozy Simmons mattress.

It was her villa!

Dragging her exhausted body, Gu Qinghuan slowly climbed out of bed.

No time to think too much.

She grabbed a bottle of Telunsu milk, drinking as she opened the fridge to look for something to eat.

Thanks to her job as a food blogger, her home had three massive double-door refrigerators, all fully stocked.

Inside were all sorts of fresh ingredients and samples from her livestream tastings.

Maybe it was because this body had been deprived of good food for so long, but now, everything looked mouthwateringly delicious to her.

Especially the big water tank in the kitchen—inside were live Alaskan king crabs, Australian abalone, coral trout, and peony shrimp, all air-shipped not long ago. She wanted to eat them so badly.

But Gu Qinghuan could only drool for now. Her body was still weak and not ready for a feast.

“Just wait—once I’m better, I’ll eat every last one of you.”

After finishing a bottle of milk, her stomach finally felt a bit better, the burning pain easing.

She’d already tested it: all the appliances and the gas stove in the house worked just fine.

She had no idea how the King of the Underworld managed it, but whatever.

She put a clay pot on the stove and started cooking a pot of white rice porridge for herself.

While the porridge was cooking, she took out the steamer, put two eggs in to boil, and steamed three frozen buns from the fridge.

That would be enough for now.

While waiting, Gu Qinghuan took the time to figure out her surroundings.

She was now in the spiritual spring space gifted by the King of the Underworld, with her villa placed right inside.

The space was huge—she couldn’t see the end of it.

The spiritual spring was right outside the villa, looking for all the world like a steaming hot spring, a scene straight out of a fairyland.

Next to the spring stood a giant rock inscribed with the words: “Demon-Banishing Spiritual Spring.”

Gu Qinghuan had already tested the spring’s effects herself.

To be safe, she’d only taken a sip.

It didn’t have any miraculous effects like reviving the dead or regrowing flesh and bones, but it did ease her pain.

Her exhausted body felt much better after just one sip, and the dull aches faded away.

If she drank it regularly, she was sure it could heal old injuries and keep her healthy to a ripe old age.

As for the “demon-banishing” part, she hadn’t noticed anything. Whatever, she didn’t care.

The vending machine the King of the Underworld gave her was in the villa’s yard, with a big, eye-catching screen.

But she didn’t have time to study it now.

Because she could faintly hear someone sobbing. It took her a few seconds to realize the sound was coming from outside.

Worried someone might catch her, she quickly thought, “I want to go out.”

In an instant, she was back in the pitch-dark room.

The sobbing was much clearer now.

That’s when Gu Qinghuan remembered—besides the crazy man, there were two little “radishes” (kids) in the house.

These two little radishes weren’t simple. In the novel, they’d become stepping stones, foils, and tools for the male and female leads’ children—basically, their only purpose was to make the protagonists look better.

After their crazy father died, they grew up eating handouts from neighbors. To survive, they did all sorts of bad things, and in the end, the male and female leads’ son personally sent them to their deaths.

This outcome was largely thanks to the female lead, Lin Xiaomeng, whose golden finger after rebirth was a “Fortune Space.”

This Fortune Space was pretty mystical. Inside was a spring of fortune; anyone who drank from it would have their luck absorbed by Lin Xiaomeng.

So, with the spring, Lin Xiaomeng was blessed with endless good luck, and everything went her way. Even her husband and son benefited, rising to power and wealth and living happily ever after.

These two kids, though, had their luck drained by Lin Xiaomeng under the guise of “eliminating evil,” and ended up miserable.

It wasn’t just these two—anyone who opposed the female lead in the book had their luck taken away and met a tragic end.

When Gu Qinghuan read the book, she’d found it deeply unsettling. Thinking about it now, it felt even more twisted.

The book only briefly mentioned that the two kids were sent back to their hometown by their father (before he went mad) to be cared for by his parents, with their household registration under his name. Their exact backgrounds were unclear.

At first, Liu Guifang (the grandmother) at least gave them something to eat, since her son sent home a stipend every month.

But after the father went mad and was discharged from the army, losing his income, the two kids became unwanted, pitiful children, always hungry and forced to steal and rob to survive.

As for their crazy father, he also died mysteriously. Since he wasn’t a main character, the book didn’t go into detail, but Gu Qinghuan strongly suspected he, too, had his luck drained by the female lead.

The original owner’s ending in the book was just a single line: she died suddenly from overwork. But even death wasn’t the end for her.

Worse still were the family members she left behind. Her grandmother, upon hearing she’d sold herself to the crazy man’s family for money, died suddenly on the road, overcome by grief and anger.

Her mother, unable to bear the string of tragedies, went mad.

Her grandfather, struggling to care for his sick daughter, held on for a while but passed away within six months.

Thinking of this, Gu Qinghuan felt a pang in her heart—probably the original owner’s emotions at work.

Just a few lines in the book, but they summed up the miserable lives of several pitiful people.

—

“Wuwu... Brother, Beibei is so hungry...” The little girl’s childish voice sounded especially pitiful in the darkness.

She snuggled up to her brother by their father’s side, trying to soak up a bit of warmth.

Even though everyone was afraid of their crazy father, the kids still clung to him. If he was gone too, they’d truly have no one left in the world.

Dabao gently stroked his sister’s bony back. “Beibei, be good. Tomorrow morning, I’ll go into the mountains and find you something to eat. Let’s hang in there.”

As soon as he finished, his own stomach started growling, louder and louder.

Beibei knew her brother was even hungrier than she was. He always gave any food he found to her and their father, barely getting by on thin gruel himself.

Thinking of this, she stopped crying.

“Okay, Beibei will be good.”

In the darkness, a pair of eyes watched the two children, tears silently streaming down.

Gu Qinghuan, listening to the kids’ conversation from the next room, couldn’t help but feel a deep ache in her heart.

Kids in the 21st century are all their parents’ precious treasures, spoiled and pampered, never knowing hunger.

They’re served all kinds of delicious food—who would ever let their child go hungry?

Even though she knew from the start that these two would become villains, right now, they were just innocent, pitiful children.

As a young woman raised in the new era, under the red flag and spring breeze, Gu Qinghuan couldn’t bear to see such suffering.

Whatever—she’d take things one step at a time. With her golden finger, at least she could make sure these two kids had something to eat.

She fumbled through her luggage and found an aluminum lunchbox—the only eating utensil the original owner had, brought over by the female educated youths from the commune.

Maybe because there was nothing valuable in her bag—just rags and patched clothes—even the lunchbox was mended, so Liu Guifang hadn’t bothered to take it.

In the year since Gu Qinghuan had come to the countryside, she’d sold everything she could to support her mother and survive. She truly had nothing left.

She took the aluminum lunchbox into her space and washed it thoroughly.

The clay pot of freshly cooked white rice porridge smelled fragrant and inviting. She’d made plenty, so Gu Qinghuan filled the lunchbox to the brim.

She’d thought about taking a couple of buns too, but realized that suddenly producing two steaming hot buns in the middle of the night would be suspicious, so she held back."

"Chapter 4: First Encounter, Dabao’s Worries

“Brother, do you smell that?” Beibei wrinkled her nose as the aroma of freshly cooked rice porridge wafted over. Just the smell alone made her feel so happy.

Dabao smelled it too.

“Who’s making porridge? It smells so good!”

The two children greedily inhaled the scent, satisfied smiles spreading across their faces.

They couldn’t even remember the last time they’d tasted white rice porridge.

Gu Qinghuan approached slowly, holding a flashlight in one hand and an aluminum lunchbox in the other.

The original owner of this body would never have had a flashlight—she’d found it in the emergency kit at the villa.

It was late at night. There weren’t just no electric lights or flashlights at home, there wasn’t even a single kerosene lamp. For now, the flashlight would have to do.

A beam of bright light swept across the kang bed.

A slender figure appeared in front of her. At first glance, he looked like a corpse, startling Gu Qinghuan.

The man was so thin he was just skin and bones, like a skeleton straight out of a TV drama—especially frightening at night.

It was such a visceral impression because the man was almost naked from the waist down, only covered by an old towel. From his thighs to his feet, everything was exposed, his limbs shockingly thin.

His face was gaunt, eye sockets sunken deep, cheekbones jutting out, hair long and disheveled, spread across the kang, beard unshaven for ages. He looked just like an addict.

Despite his frail appearance, there was an odd, sickly beauty about him. He must have been very handsome once—crazy as he was, he still had a kind of mesmerizing presence.

He was tall, tied up with a thick hemp rope. Clearly, life hadn’t been kind to him.

Liu Guifang never treated her second son well. When others were around, she’d put on a show and bring him a bite to eat.

But when no one was watching, she’d call him a lunatic and sometimes forget to feed him for days.

She did it on purpose, hoping he’d starve to death so everyone could be free of him.

But things didn’t go as she wished. Though the madman was skin and bones, he stubbornly clung to life.

That was thanks to the two children, who often shared their food with him and helped clean him up, allowing him to just barely survive.

The two little ones weren’t as frightening to look at, but they were still painfully thin, wearing ill-fitting, tattered clothes. At least their faces were clean.

They huddled close to their father, looking at Gu Qinghuan like startled birds. The little girl hid in her brother’s arms, trembling.

They already knew that Grandma had spent money to buy a stepmother to take care of their father.

The village kids said stepmothers were scary, that they ate children, never fed them, and would eventually throw them out.

So, the two kids were naturally afraid of Gu Qinghuan, even though she was the most beautiful person they’d ever seen.

The man on the bed felt the harsh light and slowly opened his eyes. He frowned, his eyes half-open, face full of impatience, like a lion about to roar.

Clearly, he didn’t like the bright light. It made him inexplicably irritable, his whole body tense and ready to fight.

Gu Qinghuan quickly turned the flashlight away, afraid of provoking the madman and making things worse.

The man closed his eyes again.

The children’s eyes suddenly fixed on the rice porridge in her hands.

So, it was the stepmother who made the porridge.

It smelled so good!

They licked their lips but didn’t dare ask for any.

Past experience had taught them that nothing good in the house ever belonged to them.

Gu Qinghuan looked at their frightened, confused eyes, feeling a pang in her heart. She set the rice porridge down on the broken wooden table by the door.

“This is for you. Share it between yourselves. You don’t need to wash the lunchbox—just leave it by the door, and I’ll pick it up tomorrow.” With that, she turned and left.

She was hungry too.

Back in her space, Gu Qinghuan realized she’d forgotten to bring them utensils. Oh well, they’d figure it out—she wasn’t going back in there. The madman’s eyes were too frightening.

She sat down to enjoy her own dinner: three medium-sized buns, two boiled eggs, and a bowl of rice porridge—enough to fill her up.

Meanwhile, the two children stared in bewilderment at the direction Gu Qinghuan had left.

She was really giving them rice porridge?

A whole lunchbox full of it!

Beibei, only four years old and at the age of craving tasty things, gazed greedily at the steaming porridge. “Brother, we get to eat rice porridge!”

The stepmother must be a good person, giving them rice porridge.

Dabao, six years old, already knew there was no such thing as a free meal in this world.

He said warily, “Er Dan said that before kidnappers snatch kids, they always give them something tasty first to make them dizzy. Do you think she’s planning to sell us?”

Actually, Dabao had even darker suspicions—he thought the stepmother probably couldn’t stand the two of them and might be trying to poison them. But he didn’t dare tell his little sister that.

In their short lives, the two children had experienced so little kindness that any small act of goodwill made them suspicious.

But it was precisely this wariness that had helped them survive.

Beibei shrank back in fear. “Then, brother, what should we do?”

They stared at the fragrant porridge but didn’t dare eat it, afraid they’d never see their father again if they did.

Their stomachs rumbled.

After a while, Dabao looked at his pitiful little sister, bit his lip, and made up his mind.

“I’ll try a small bite first. If nothing happens to me after a while, we’ll split it. But if something does, you mustn’t touch that porridge.”

Beibei tried to hold him back, but she was too little. Dabao, like a martyr, climbed off the bed, picked up the porridge, and took a cautious sip.

The warm porridge slid down his throat into his stomach—fragrant, soft, sticky… He never knew rice porridge could taste this good.

It was the best thing he’d ever eaten. Even years later, he’d still remember the taste of this bowl of porridge.

After tasting such delicious food, he thought, even if he died from poison, it’d be worth it.

He climbed back onto the kang, lay down stiffly, and waited to see if anything happened to his body.

Beibei licked her lips. “Brother, is the porridge good?”

She’d never tasted rice porridge before in her life.

A bitter tear slid down Dabao’s cheek. He vaguely remembered that before he turned three, life had been okay. But after being sent to Xujiatun, he’d never had enough to eat.

His sister had come over when she was just one, just weaned, and had never even tasted rice porridge.

“It’s delicious. Beibei, I promise you, one day I’ll make sure you can eat rice porridge every day.”

Dabao wished he could grow up faster, so he could take better care of his father and sister.

The two children waited a long time, until the porridge had gone cold, but nothing happened to Dabao—he didn’t faint or get poisoned.

So, the porridge must be safe, right?

They could eat it—what a relief!

Dabao carefully brought the porridge onto the kang. By the moonlight, the siblings took turns, one mouthful each.

Even though it was cold, it was still a rare treat, and they cherished every bite.

Dabao only ate a little, saving the rest for his sister and father.

Beibei, sensible for her age, stopped when half was left.

Dabao fed the remaining half to their father, then finally lay down, satisfied.

“Brother, the porridge was so good,” Beibei said, rubbing her little belly.

“Good girl, go to sleep. We have to get up early tomorrow to find food.”

Dabao had a lot on his mind—unlike his optimistic sister.

Why did the stepmother give them food? And such precious rice porridge, too.

Now that they’d been kicked out, with their father in tow, how would they survive?

Winter was coming soon. Would this old, drafty house even keep them alive through the cold?

So many problems to solve. If only he could grow up faster—then everything would be better."

"Chapter 5: A Difficult Choice