On a sunny evening, the sunset glow turned half of the sky red.
The summer heat hung in the air, and waves of warmth washed over the bustling streets packed with people.
For Wei Jiajia, a stroll through the supermarket was her one and only stress-reliever from her hectic life as an office worker.
She was a department supervisor at a travel company, responsible for core planning and adjustments—an immensely stressful position, especially for someone who had just turned 21 this year.
Her relentless determination and refusal to give up had set her apart from her peers—many of them born in the 1990s and 2000s. She always overdelivered on tasks assigned by her superiors.
With only a vocational school diploma to her name, she had no choice but to prove her worth through performance. University degrees were the norm among her coworkers, so she had to work twice as hard to earn her place.
Because her work schedule was so demanding, often working overtime on weekends, she made a habit going to the supermarket to stock up on groceries and household supplies whenever she had a free moment, and cook something delicious to reward herself.
Today, having finally wrapped up her work, she realized it had been nearly two weeks since her last supermarket run.
Her period was coming, and she was almost out of sanitary pads. This rare bit of free time was her chance to head out and restock her supplies.
The supermarket she frequented wasn’t far from her place, located on the ground floor of a residential building. It was a mid-sized chain store—smaller than the big-name supermarkets—but it had everything she needed.
Her company was located in the old office building right next door. It took only about ten minutes to walk home, which was precisely why she’d decided to rent an apartment nearby—to make commuting as easy as possible.
That evening, as she stepped out of work, she noticed the sunset turning the sky a deep, bloody red. A sudden unease prickled in her chest for no reason at all.
When she entered the supermarket, she navigated the bustling crowd, pushing her cart toward the beverage aisle where her favorite drinks were stocked. Just as her hand reached out…
Suddenly, the shelves in front of her began to sway. Without giving her time to react, Wei Jiajia cursed in her heart. As she fought to steady herself, the entire floor beneath her feet started to shake violently.
Around her, the store erupted with panicked shouts, children’s cries, and chaos. No one could stand upright, and people crouched on the ground, trying to avoid falling and getting hurt.
In her aisle, bottles of all shapes and sizes clattered to the floor.
Then, out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a shelf about to collapse barely two meters away. Beneath it sat a little boy, no more than three or four years old, staring wide-eyed in terror, too scared even to cry.
A burst of courage came from nowhere. Stumbling and crawling, she lunged forward, throwing herself over the child to shield him with her body.
The shelf came down with a thunderous crash, burying them both under a cascade of bottles and cans…
Wei Jiajia suddenly opened her eyes. Above her was a gray-white mosquito net, and for a moment, her mind spun in confusion.
She had dreamed of her previous life again. The sharp, suffocating pain of being trapped under that fallen shelf was as vivid as ever…
In the six months since she had woken up in this world, she’d lost track of how many times she’d had that nightmare.
Here, in the lean, hungry years of the nation’s infancy, her heart yearned for the modern comforts she had left behind—the mouthwatering food and her tiny, cozy apartment that she had so carefully decorated.
Yes, Wei Jiajia had been reborn—transported back to 1957, just a few years after the founding of the People’s Republic of China, in the body of a girl who shared her name and lived in Shencheng.
The body she now inhabited was sixteen years old, a second-year high school student who was about to take the college entrance examination.
Half a year ago, devastating news had arrived from the army—the original owner’s parents had died in action while on a mission on the frontline. Grief had overwhelmed the original owner, causing her to faint—and when she woke up, she was no longer herself, but the Wei Jiajia from 2020.
In the past six months, she had tried her best to adjust to this era. She had her moments of sorrow and discouragement. But whenever she looked at the family that now relied on her—especially the original owner’s twin siblings who gazed at her with fearful, uncertain eyes—her heart softened and kept her going.
Their parents were gone. If she disappeared too, how lost and afraid would they be?
Since fate had placed her in this body, Wei Jiajia had resolved to carry on the life of its former owner. Whether for the original girl’s sake or her own, she would live fully. And those four children—they were hers to protect now.
“Big sister…”
A soft, milky voice broke the silence beside her.
“Nuannuan, you’re awake? Do you need to pee?” Wei Jiajia asked gently.
“Yes!” came a firm reply.
She got up, put on her clothes, and carried a little girl of about three to the bathroom.
When they returned, she gently gently back on the bed. Next to her lay a little boy with delicate features, sleeping soundly with a serene expression.
The resemblance between the boy and girl was striking. They were the youngest members of the family—dragon-and-phoenix twins named Wei Xiangyang and Wei Xiangnuan, both nearly three years old.
The original Wei Jiajia also had a pair of twin brothers, Wei Xiangdong and Wei Xiangxi, who were ten and in the fourth grade. They slept on their own.
The little girl couldn’t sleep anymore, so she crawled over to her brother and began poking and prodding him. After a while, the boy’s drowsy eyes fluttered open, his big, sleepy eyes were hazy and indescribably cute.
“Yangyang, are you awake too? Do you want me to take you to the bathroom?”
“Yes, sister, carry me,” the little boy said, bouncing up enthusiastically.
Wei Jiajia dressed him quickly and carried him to the bathroom.
As they returned, the door to the room next to the main hall swung open.
An elderly woman emerged, clad in a neatly pressed blue blouse with front buttons, black trousers, and a pair of simple, black cloth shoes.
Though her attire was old, it was meticulously washed and perfectly ironed, exuding an understated elegance that hinted at a refined upbringing.
This woman was the original owner’s mother’s aunt. The original owner’s mother had lived with her aunt since the age of seven or eight and had been raised as if she were her own child.
The aunt had treated Wei Jiajia’s mother as though she were her biological daughter, nurturing her with care and devotion. Similarly, the original owner’s mother had always considered this aunt her true mother and had sworn to stay by her side, even after marriage, to ensure she was cared for in her old age.
Without children of her own, the grand-aunt had poured her love and energy into raising the original owner’s mother. When the tragic news of her parents’ passing arrived, the aunt was devastated.
If it weren’t for the fact that the children were still young and needed her care, she might not have had the strength to carry on.
Even so, the old woman had been bedridden for over a month. If Wei Jiajia hadn’t crossed into this world just in time, bringing medicine with her, the outcome might have been unimaginable.
“Auntie, you’re awake already? Why not sleep a little longer?”
“Age catches up, child—I don’t sleep as soundly anymore,” the old woman replied as she walked over to to tease the children.
“Did Yangyang sleep well? No bed-wetting, I hope?”
“Yangyang’s a big boy! No bed-wetting!” the little one declared loudly, his small voice full of pride. Then, annoyed by the question, he turned away and buried his face in Wei Jiajia’s shoulder, refusing to look at his aunt. Hmph! Even little ones have self-esteem.
“Alright, alright, Auntie was wrong. Auntie is sorry! Our Yangyang is the best behaved.” Seeing that the little guy had a little temper, the old woman didn’t dare to tease him and quickly apologized with a smile.
“And Nuannuan? Is she awake too?”
“Yes, she’s up. I’ll go get her. By the time we’re done washing up, Aunt Fen’s breakfast should be ready.”
With the little ones cleaned up and seated at the table, Aunt Fen carried the breakfast out. At that moment, the older twins came charging down the stairs, their footsteps loud and eager.
“Breakfast! Breakfast time!” Little Nuannuan shouted in her soft, sticky-sweet baby voice making everyone smile.
“Brothers will be ready soon. Nuannuan, go ahead and start eating—you don’t need to wait for your brothers,” Xiangxi, the younger of the twins, said cheerfully. Compared to his older brother, his personality was more lively, and he often spoke for both of them.
Xiandong, the elder, was calm and responsible. Since their parents passed away and both Auntie and their big sister had fallen ill, he had matured overnight. He saw himself as the pillar of the household, shouldering great responsibility, though he wasn’t one for words.
The twins finished washing up and joined everyone at the table. Seated around it were the five siblings, Auntie, Aunt Fen, and Uncle Zhuzi, her husband.
Aunt Fen and Uncle Zhuzi were also a pair of miserable people. In the early 40s, they had fled famine and war to Su City. Weak and desperate, they collapsed outside Auntie’s door. Moved by their plight, she took them in.
Recognizing their honesty and hard-working nature, Auntie let them stay. Since Wei Jiajia’s mother had left to join the revolution with her father after giving birth, and the household servants had been sent away, Auntie, unaccustomed to housework, struggled to care for the child alone, so Aunt Fen and her husband became a natural fit.
The couple had no family left in their hometown, and their only child had passed away from illness while fleeing, With no ties, having a safe place to settle was the most important thing in those turbulent times. They stayed with the Wei family even after the liberation, moving with them to Shencheng.
After the founding of the People’s Republic of China, the government began redistributing wealth, targeting landlords and capitalists to classify them into social classes.
When the workgroup came to assess class status, the couple had suspected something was up but never revealed the true situation of the Wei family. They simply claimed they had come from a disaster-stricken hometown with no family left and had sought refuge with relatives.
In those chaotic times, the great-aunt kept a low profile as a single woman with a child, avoiding unwanted attention. This discretion, coupled with their relocation, safeguarded the Wei family’s future.
In the end, the Wei family was classified as commoners, and good deeds were rewarded.
Currently, Uncle Zhuzi was the only one with a formal job, working at a recycling station despite his slight limp. The great-aunt and Aunt Fen remained unemployed, though Aunt Fen occasionally took on odd jobs.
Though hiring help after the founding of the Republic was prohibited, as it was considered exploitative and against the rules, the Wei family’s special circumstances, with both parents in the military and only an elderly woman and young children at home, justified the arrangement.
Even though the family could have relocated to join Wei Jiajia’s father due to his military rank, the remote location of his unit and its lack of basic infrastructure made it impossible to arrange for family members to follow.
After so many years of living together, Aunt Fen and Uncle Zhuzi had become like family. Due to the injuries they had sustained while fleeing, they were unable to have children of their own. Thus, the great-aunt had formally adopted Aunt Fen as her “goddaughter,” thinking ahead to their future needs.
The children had been cared for by Aunt Fen and Uncle Zhuzi since they were little, and the couple treated them as their own, providing them with love and care. Living together meant that even in their old age, the couple would have someone to take care of them.
The family had once been supported by two military salaries, which were generous enough to cover the expenses of a large household.
However, both Wei Jiajia’s parents had died in service. Before his death, Wei Jiajia’s father had been promoted to deputy division commander, and her mother was a battalion-level officer. Their combined martyr’s pensions amounted to about two thousand yuan, plus the allowances they had sent home. This had ensured that the family was financially comfortable.
Now, though, with only one wage-earner, the family could barely make ends meet.
Although they received rationed goods and monthly coupons from the street office, they still needed money to buy things.
Especially since the children were still growing, and would eventually need money for school, marriage, and their own children. They couldn’t keep living off their savings.
After discussing it with Aunt Fen, the great-aunt decided to consciously reduce the family’s expenses.
Fortunately, as a martyr’s family, they received special care from the street office and neighbors, and their life was relatively stable.
After breakfast, Uncle Zhuzi went to work, and the twins helped wash the dishes before playing with the younger ones in the yard. The great-aunt and Aunt Fen began to paste the cardboard boxes they had received from the street office two days ago. Meanwhile, Wei Jiajia returned to her room and sat at her desk, ready to start studying.
Axolotl Translations 
Leave a comment