Back in the 70s: The Neglected Heiress Is Reborn

Early in the morning, Niu Erzhu was squatting in the yard, butt stuck out, sharpening his sickle. Just yesterday, a commune meeting had been held. The team leader conveyed the directives from the commune—everyone had to hurry with the harvest and planting, ensure every grain was gathered into the granary, and not let a single kernel rot in the fields. "Sharpen my sickle a bit too," Qiu Guihua called from inside the room, sticking her head out and shouting at Niu Erzhu, who was crouched outside. Although the wheat in their private plot was planted a little late, at most it would only last another four or five days. They’d finish the team’s work first, then find time to tend to their own wheat. Just thinking about their private plot made Qiu Guihua beam— It may only be a few mu, but anyone with eyes could see how well their wheat was growing. One ear was worth two from the team’s fields, and that was comparing with the best fields. The private plots given to members were always the poorest land, yet somehow they’d managed to turn theirs into fertile soil. Who wouldn’t praise this capable couple? But if you asked Qiu Guihua, it wasn’t their skills—it was all thanks to their son, their little lucky star. That plot of land had started producing abundantly right when she got pregnant. In her eyes, all their fortune had come with her son. Thinking this, she gently lifted the thin quilt and kissed the sleeping face of little Niu Xiaobao. Reluctantly covering him up again, she tiptoed out of the room, careful not to wake her precious baby. Seeing this, Niu Erzhu even lightened his sharpening strokes and whispered, “Did I wake Xiaobao?” “No.” Qiu Guihua stretched lazily, catching sight of a little girl carrying a bowl of chicken feed toward the coop. Her smile instantly vanished. Tugging at Niu Erzhu’s shirt, she asked, “Did you think about what I told you yesterday?” Niu Erzhu’s hands paused—clearly troubled. “You make it sound easy. Who’d want a girl like that these days?” Just a girl they picked up—how much affection could he really feel? Even so, he had his pride. Folks in the village were already gossiping, saying Da Ya brought luck and then they discarded her once they had a son. He didn’t want people pointing fingers at his back. “If no one wants her, we still have to keep raising her? I’m not going to be the fool here!” Qiu Guihua had conveniently forgotten it was she who’d been desperate for a child, unwilling to keep being called “a hen that lays no eggs,” and had gone nearly mad trying to adopt someone else’s baby. “…Our little Xiaobao is the one who brings us blessings. All that grain—it's his. Why should Da Ya be eating it?” Thanks to the bounty from their private plot these past two years, they could even afford fine wheat noodles occasionally. But Da Ya, growing older and hungrier, made Qiu Guihua sick to look at—like she was stealing from Xiaobao. Pestered relentlessly, Niu Erzhu finally relented while putting the sickle away. “Alright, alright, after the busy season, I’ll ask around—see if anyone wants a little girl. If not, we’ll leave her at a busy marketplace. Someone will pick her up.” No way was she raising that money-wasting girl anymore. Then she added, “When you take her to the county, don’t go past Shilipu…” Suddenly something felt off. Turning around, they saw Da Ya had returned from feeding the chickens, quietly standing behind her. Qiu Guihua choked mid-sentence. The next second, she raised her hand to slap— “You cursed ghost of a girl! Standing there all quiet—trying to scare someone to death?!” But before the slap landed, Da Ya burst into tears. The bowl of chicken feed in her hands fell to the ground with a loud clang. The wretched sound of her crying sent Qiu Guihua into a panic. She instinctively tried to cover Da Ya’s mouth— Little Xiaobao was still asleep! Worse yet, once Da Ya cried, someone always came to her defense. Sure enough, Xiaobao started wailing from inside, and someone banged furiously on the gate— “Guihua! Guihua! What’re you doing? This is the New Society—we don’t hit children anymore!” If it had been anyone else, they wouldn’t have cared. But it was Cuillan, the team leader’s wife. They dared not ignore her. Qiu Guihua rushed back to quiet her son, while Niu Erzhu opened the gate and greeted the round-faced woman with a forced smile: “No hitting, no hitting. The girl tripped. That’s all…” As soon as the gate opened, three boys squeezed inside, rushing past Niu Erzhu to comfort Da Ya. One helped her up, one picked up the bowl, all looking distressed. “Da Ya, where does it hurt?” “Tell me—I’ll blow on it for you…” The youngest boy, chubby and wide-eyed, suddenly turned and rammed straight into Niu Erzhu’s belly. “Bad Uncle Erzhu! You hit Da Ya again!” Caught off guard, Niu Erzhu doubled over in pain. If not for Cuillan yanking the boy back, he might’ve charged again. “Huzi!” she scolded her youngest sharply, then turned to Niu Erzhu, her tone sincere: “Look, other kids might be naughty, but not Da Ya. She’s so sweet and obedient… That child brings luck. You hadn’t had a child for years, and once you brought her home—boom, you had Xiaobao. You should treasure that.” Standing behind the window, holding Xiaobao, Qiu Guihua clenched her teeth. That was exactly why she hated Da Ya. Everyone said the luck came with Da Ya, not Xiaobao. That stung more than anything— Easy for others to say, but it wasn’t their grain she was eating! Her anger boiled over. She stormed out, clutching Xiaobao, and sneered: “Sister Cuillan, what are you trying to say? We feed her, and we can’t discipline her? If you like her so much, take her! You have plenty of food at your place—unlike us, who are running out!” Cuillan’s expression darkened. “Guihua, a person needs a conscience. Everyone sees how Da Ya’s treated here. Just a little girl, standing on stools to cook for your whole family. In winter, she breaks ice just to wash Xiaobao’s cloth diapers. Even old-time servants weren’t treated this harshly!” “Tell me honestly, Guihua. Is Da Ya really your niece?” Back then, Guihua had been married for years without children. Suddenly, she brought home a little girl, saying she was her cousin’s daughter. The cousin had three girls and wanted a boy, so she gave the youngest to Guihua. At first, Guihua was kind to Da Ya. But not long after, she got pregnant—and from then on, Da Ya’s life turned bitter. Now, seeing how things had unfolded, Cuillan’s eyes narrowed: “Tell the truth, Guihua. Did you steal her?” Guihua’s face went pale but forced herself to retort: “What nonsense are you spouting in front of the child?!” Realizing she may have gone too far, Cuillan hesitated. Da Ya was old enough to understand. Seizing the moment, Guihua yanked Da Ya over. Niu Erzhu quickly stepped in with a grin: “My wife talks rough—don’t mind her. Don’t worry, we won’t hit her again. It’s almost time to head to the fields. You go ahead too, sister.” Reluctantly, Cuillan turned to Da Ya: “Da Ya, I have to go to work. Your brothers are home. Call them if you need anything.” Her three boys were wild troublemakers—but they adored Da Ya and would listen to her every word. “I know, Auntie,” Da Ya nodded sweetly. Her soft voice melted Cuillan’s heart. Once Cuillan and the boys left, Qiu Guihua’s fake smile vanished. She glared at Da Ya but, afraid of alerting Cuillan again, didn’t dare hit her. Her resolve to abandon the girl only deepened. She barked: “Still standing here? Go to the private field and keep watch!” Their wheat was growing too well—not just against theft, but birds and pests too. Head lowered, Da Ya followed the couple out of the yard. But she had memorized one word clearly—Shilipu. She couldn’t stay here any longer. Better to run away to this place called Shilipu than wait for them to abandon her in some nameless ditch. From the tone of it, it wasn’t far. As she walked, she absently rubbed her left wrist—where, just like in her former life, a pale pink cherry blossom-shaped birthmark bloomed. Since waking up in this world, Shi Ying often wondered: was this pitiful girl the past version of herself? How else could they both have the exact same mark, in the exact same place? Lost in thought, she nearly bumped into Qiu Guihua. They had reached the edge of the village’s private plots. Unlike others growing seasonal vegetables, Niu Erzhu’s plot rolled with golden waves of wheat. Others heading to the fields paused to gape in envy. “Niu Erzhu, how did you get your wheat to grow like that?” “No kidding! With just a few mu, I bet you’ll harvest more than someone with a whole acre.” After taxes and team shares, nobody got much from the team fields. But the Erzhu family’s private harvest could easily feed two full-grown men. It wasn’t just summer wheat, either. Last autumn, their corn had also been amazing. One neighbor saw them trading extra corn for a chunk of pork big enough to last till the tenth day of the New Year. Now, looking at this wheat, people figured the family could feast on white buns for the next half year. Shi Ying reached out and gently touched a heavy wheat head— This harvest had nothing to do with the couple. It was all her doing. And if she was going to leave, she was taking the wheat with her.