Originally, Cheng Ying felt she should have been coughing up blood, but perhaps because the body she had been reborn into was young, her cardiovascular system was still quite soft, making cerebral hemorrhage unlikely. Thus, she spat instead.
Cheng Ying took two steps back, staring darkly at the two lines inscribed there.
As a highly educated intellectual, Cheng Ying found the stone utterly lacking in cultural depth.
To describe her entire life with just these two simple sentences was altogether too vulgar.
It should have at least been inscribed with an epitaph or something similar. Ptooey, this isn't a tomb, why would I need an epitaph?
These two lines were a naked mockery of her entire life’s journey.
This was what could be called an elegant chamber, a refined space, a tasteful area—a mere 'elegant room.'
It was rare for someone to be angered to death in one go, but Cheng Ying had died with such intense resentment, perhaps too sharp and piercing, that it had broken through the atmosphere and connected with something like Heaven itself.
Hence, this scientifically improbable phenomenon occurred.
Heaven was something high and distant; this thing felt too ethereal. To bestow something upon her without even asking if she was willing.
Cheng Ying had no destiny to have her innermost being dissected by Heaven directly.
As a supreme entity, Heaven understood on its own and unilaterally bestowed this upon Cheng Ying.
So, as a means of appeasing her lingering resentment, Cheng Ying was given this elegant space—a space capable of holding only elegance.
Cheng Ying felt deeply resistant to this space, thinking that Heaven was not only blind but also failed to understand the human heart.
She couldn't fathom why this simple-minded Heaven would believe she would appreciate such an item, especially as compensation, something tied to the very pursuit that burned away her life force.
I never pursued elegance. If anything, I yearned more for a life lived with unrestrained joy.
Alas, these were all memories too painful to revisit.
The moment she found herself here, Cheng Ying reasoned that if one was to be compensated with a 'space'—given the abundance of knowledge in the network age—even professional women read a few leisure books.
Therefore, Cheng Ying knew something about 'spaces'; she'd heard they contained everything.
With something new lodged in her mind, she needed to understand it. What if it turned into a brain tumor one day? How unjust that would be!
It would be best if it could fill her stomach; then, even being poor wouldn't be so frightening.
Seeing the words on the stone made Cheng Ying miserable; it was a constant reminder that she had been angered to death.
And also the pursuit that Heaven had misunderstood.
Elegance, my foot! In both my lives, I’ve been a commoner.
Just as Cheng Ying first entered the space, she was boiling with frustrated anger at herself.
Only then did she begin to examine the thing closely.
Cheng Ying looked around. Everything was misty and indistinct. Beneath the stone was black earth, rich and moist.
There was no legendary spring water. Nor was there the fenced courtyard described in books. Apart from the earth, there was only the single stone and the mist.
Cheng Ying became instantly troubled: Didn't everyone say that spaces contained divine water capable of bringing the dead back to life? Where was the water?
She wondered if she could dig a well in this land.
She also wondered if the springs in other people's spaces were something they had to dig for.
At that moment, Cheng Ying didn't know whether to blame the books for writing nonsense or to blame Heaven for not granting her a perfect, flawless space.
Her stomach rumbled, reminding Cheng Ying that she was still starving. She searched everywhere, her strongest wish being for food.
She saw nothing else, but the writing on the large stone had changed. The original two lines had morphed into a single character: “Common” ().
Cheng Ying’s face soured, and she suppressed the urge to curse Heaven.
It’s trying to raise the standard, perhaps our expectations were too low, she thought, Are there even clothes here?
The faint word "Common" on the stone darkened in color, but it remained "Common."
Cheng Ying opened her mouth and yelled directly at the stone, "Is there money?"
She could at least go out and buy food herself, couldn't she? Even if one had money in this era, finding food wasn't guaranteed.
If all else failed, even an IOU signed by the brigade leader would suffice.
The character "Common" on the stone turned a brilliant, gilded gold, glittering dazzlingly.
Cheng Ying kicked it with her foot. What kind of rubbish was this? No food, no clothes, nothing to spend—and it called itself compensation?
When her foot struck the stone, it actually hurt.
Then, Cheng Ying found herself back on her kang (heated brick bed). She had been thrown out again.
Teary-eyed, Cheng Ying cradled her injured foot, thinking, This is a real stone.
Her toes were already swelling up.
Remembering the dark earth in the space, Cheng Ying burst into tears. Fate, it’s all fate.
After finally obtaining a space she didn't particularly like, she was still destined to be a farmer.
Two lifetimes, and she couldn't escape dirt and her origins.
This time, it was from the inside out.
This was the extent of Cheng Ying’s understanding of the space that came with her.
Therefore, when Cheng Ying entered the space this time, she brought an iron shovel.
Everything must be achieved through self-reliance! It was an act born of absolute desperation. Otherwise, who would willingly swing an iron shovel with their delicate, fair hands?
Cheng Ying decided she would dig a pit beneath the stone.
Then she would haul in two buckets of water to see if this space could hold water. Ideally, like digging a well, she could uncover a spring—that would be perfect.
Failing that, even if the water didn't stay, washing wool inside the space would certainly be warmer than outside, wouldn't it? Plus, there would be absolute secrecy.
If that proved impossible, Cheng Ying prepared to bring in a large wooden basin.
Fortunately, despite her current small frame being thin and slight, her physical constitution was decent; she had been digging for quite a while and still had energy.
If this were Cheng Ying’s previous body, she truly couldn't have managed such heavy physical labor.
After toiling for a while, Cheng Ying had excavated a pit less than one square meter, let alone considering its depth.
It would probably only hold two buckets of water.
Cheng Ying straightened up to catch her breath. After resting a moment, she muttered to the large stone in the space, "You had better have the water-holding capacity I desire, or I’ll use you as a latrine. Let’s see if you can still maintain your elegance, you haughty thing, hmph."
She wasn't joking; Cheng Ying genuinely felt that way.
Speaking of which, besides being unable to stand not wearing socks on her feet, Cheng Ying’s second greatest discomfort was the latrines here.
They couldn't even be called latrines; they were just large pits, with two planks laid across the top.
With Cheng Ying's small body, if she wasn't careful, she could easily fall into the cesspool.
As for the smell, Cheng Ying had stopped considering that.
And that wasn't all. What truly bothered Cheng Ying the most was that the latrines here were enclosed by a wooden fence; firstly, they had no roof, and secondly, if someone walked by, they could see right into the toilet stall.
By the same logic, people outside could see who was squatting inside—it offered zero sense of security.
Using the toilet is a deeply private matter. The latrine visits had been the hardest part of Cheng Ying's life these past two days. She even had to time her trips for when no one else was home to squat.
If there were electricity here, she could perhaps go at night. Holding it in, at such a young age, was bearable.
But here, besides the Brigade Office having power, there were no other lights. The entire mountain village had only two electrical wires, powering only a loud loudspeaker at the Brigade Office.