Why didn't her own son send her a dream? Cheng Ying didn't have the energy to watch the old woman disappear; she was too exhausted to even open her eyes. Today had been too exciting; she’d forgotten lunch, let alone an afternoon nap.

So, Cheng Ying twisted her way into the room, moving uncomfortably. It felt as if a hundred pounds had been tied around her waist.

It wasn't like bathing her skin in the spatial water infused with honeysuckle—even swallowing the honeysuckle itself wouldn't bring instant relief.

Cheng Ying lay down on the kang and truly suffered; her whole body ached, and she didn't want to move at all.

Tears were the only thing her eyes could still muster; this was too damn hard. When she finally made her fortune, she vowed to hire a whole group of young men to give her massages—wait, scratch that, a group of beautiful young men to massage her.

Aiya, she wondered who would be taking advantage in that scenario. Cheng Ying gave a bitter little laugh; even indulgence was so complicated.

Just as Cheng Ying was drifting off in exhaustion, a pair of rough, large hands began pressing into her waist and abdomen. Before falling asleep, the soreness in her eyes turned to bliss. Aiya, this felt so good.

When Cheng Ying woke up the next morning, her waist didn't hurt, her legs weren't stiff, and her arms didn't tingle. Everything was wonderful; she felt full of energy. Waving goodbye to the old woman, who watched her with evident disapproval, she climbed into Cheng Ming’s vehicle and headed back to the mountains for "labor reform."

Cheng Ming, however, was diligent and tireless, clocking in as punctually as a rooster’s crow. He came to pick up Cheng Ying at the appointed time, but he did everything behind his mother’s back. Cheng Ying felt sorry for the poor kid’s mental fatigue. When riding his bike through the village, they had to move like guerrillas; whenever his aunt might appear, they would detour the longest possible route.

Cheng Ying sighed. Why must adult matters burden a child? Furthermore, Cheng Ying felt that her aunt’s strenuous efforts were entirely wasted.

Cheng Ming was originally just a cousin, but because this cousin defied family pressure to create convenient conditions for her, Cheng Ying deeply realized that this was more than just a cousin; he was kin, relatives connected by bone and sinew. One could say her aunt’s actions were entirely counterproductive.

Having learned from the first day, Cheng Ying dared not exert herself so heavily anymore, opting instead for a balance of work and rest. Of course, once her body adjusted, she didn't find digging pits and filling them that difficult anymore.

Cheng Ying specifically checked the saplings she had half-heartedly planted the previous day.

They were still alive. A wave of contentment washed over her. She at least had a cheat code now; these saplings could survive with just a little water and without digging deep holes. In the future, she could reduce some of the toil. Cheng Ying had initially assumed it would take her thirty or fifty years to reforest the entire mountain, but now it seemed achievable in ten or eight years, avoiding so much tedious effort.

Finally, she could breathe a little easier, but she couldn't stop working. What was the difference between planting one tree and planting a hundred? The answer was no difference at all, except perhaps a slightly higher sense of accomplishment. Cheng Ying’s body was still exhausted.

There was no ease whatsoever. Midway through the day, Cheng Ying returned to her space to take a quick shower, but she was still too tired to lift her arms.

Cheng Ying simply took saplings directly from her space, broke them into segments, and watered them with pond water. One had to admit, the work was becoming simpler and simpler; people truly grew lazier, and these methods were all her own inventions. Cheng Ying looked at the acre of bare, spindly branches and chuckled inwardly. If these branches were still alive tomorrow, she wouldn't have to dig holes to plant trees anymore; she could just stick the branches into the ground. Aiya, the future looked bright; how clever she was! Cheng Ying spared no effort, thoroughly watering this patch of branches.

When she finished everything, Cheng Ying’s waist and legs were still aching. Although the planting process was simplified, efficiency meant more output, which was still physical labor. She wasn't an immortal; it would be strange if she weren't tired. As before, Cheng Ying walked home only when the sun had set. This time, Cheng Ming wasn't the only one waiting for her; Chi Wu was also there. However, seeing Chi Wu squatting nearby in such a dejected posture, he looked like a defeated dog.

It was obvious he had been dealt with. Cheng Ying glanced at Cheng Ming; he was acting quite like an older brother, though perhaps a bit heavy-handed with the younger boy. It really had nothing to do with the unfortunate Chi Wu; she was the one choosing to stay in the village, she was the one trying to get rich. "Wu Zi, it’s Sunday. Coming back so early?"

Cheng Ming was displeased. His sister wasn't being tough enough; why was she being nice to this kid? He needed to teach this boy a good lesson so he’d be scared and wouldn't bully her in the future. Cheng Ming snapped, "I’m done with you, I’m leaving," then glared and pedaled his bike away.

Chi Wu pushed the cart. "Get on."

Cheng Ying felt that since they had endured hardship together, they should have some rapport. The boy shouldn't think she got him beaten up, right? She naturally settled onto the back seat of Chi Wu’s bike and even meddled, asking, "Did Cheng Ming beat you up?"

For Chi Wu, this was a huge blow to his dignity. How could Cheng Ming have beaten him? If it weren't for Cheng Ying, if it weren't for the old woman, if they actually fought, it wasn't certain who would beat whom. The youth refused to answer such a humiliating question. "How is your studying going? Dad asked me to take your schoolwork back to the township later, and I brought my assignments back. You need to do all of mine too."

Cheng Ying remained silent. Textbooks? What were those? She hadn't bothered with that stuff long ago. "How is your studying going? Is anyone bullying you at school? Tell me, and I’ll go beat them up for you."

Chi Wu pursed his lips. He hadn't enjoyed such good days in years. Knowing his father was a teacher meant the attitude of classmates and teachers toward Chi Wu was different.

Chi Wu felt the difference between the village and the school was like heaven and earth; no one called him bad names anymore.

But for some reason, when the holiday came, his first instinct was to ride his bike straight to the village.

This was something Chi Wu couldn't quite understand.

Cheng Ying asked, "Is Mom not back?"

Chi Wu replied, "Dad and Mom have things at the school. They can't come back the first week of the break."

Cheng Ying understood; it was about social obligations.

Chi Wu said, "I’m doing fine at school; it’s better than being in the village."

Cheng Ying teased, "Don't get arrogant. They’re only being nice because of your dad."

Chi Wu retorted, "My grades are good," then fell silent. He had mentioned his parents so many times, yet the girl still referred to them as "your dad." He had already started calling her mother Mom, which made Chi Wu quite unhappy.

So, no matter what else Cheng Ying said, Chi Wu pedaled silently, never answering again. When they arrived home, he just handed Cheng Ying a workbook, then ate dinner silently, not even acknowledging her.

Cheng Ying couldn't fathom the fickle mood of an eleven or twelve-year-old boy. Had the kid caught a fever? How could he change his expression so quickly? However, a full day of physical labor was agonizing—her bones ached. Cheng Ying didn't have time to bother with Chi Wu. She ate dinner and went straight to bed. Chi Wu’s expression seemed to grow increasingly sour; the girl didn't even acknowledge him. He truly was spoiled.

Chi Wu didn't go to sleep until past midnight after finishing most of his homework. In between, he watched the old woman rubbing Yingzi’s arm repeatedly late into the night.

Chi Wu noticed Cheng Ying's arm was red and swollen. He couldn't imagine what kind of frenzied activity on the mountain could have done that to the poor girl.

The old woman waited until Chi Wu finished his homework before turning off the lights. As for her granddaughter, in the old woman's eyes, her own child was sensible; she wouldn't just be playing around. Thus, there was only sympathy. What comforted the old woman slightly was that she didn't see calluses on Cheng Ying’s hands; the child probably hadn't been working too hard on the mountain. Considering the village situation, eleven or twelve-year-old girls who weren't in school were already working in the fields with their parents. So, Cheng Ying going to the mountain alone to tidy things up wasn't unusual. Although the old woman felt sorry for her granddaughter, she didn't think it was extraordinary; other people's children were all like that. The difference was that others worked alongside their parents and had to go even if they didn't want to. Her child had chosen to go entirely voluntarily. This was understandable—children from poor families mature early. Since her own child had lost her father, it was only right and acceptable that she planned for her own future.

So, the old woman had been trying to supplement Cheng Ying’s diet these past few days. Unfortunately, there wasn't much she could do. In those days, families who could spare two catties of rice were few and far between. The old woman diligently cooked porridge and sorghum cakes for Cheng Ying, but even that supply was limited.

Fortunately, Chi Wu had brought back good things from the township. The old woman hadn't touched a single bite, saving it all for her granddaughter.

In truth, Cheng Ying didn't want to continue working alone; it was too exhausting. The key issue was that if she didn't establish some foundation, even if she hired people later, they wouldn't know how to manage the site. Cheng Ying planned to organize the mountain area somewhat before hiring help. First, paths needed to be cleared, and then a small dam needed to be built across the valley mouth. Though the project wasn't huge, it was beyond what she, a young girl, could manage. This required long-term planning.

On Sunday, Cheng Ming didn't come to call Cheng Ying early. Cheng Ying’s biological clock had also adjusted; she woke up automatically at the right time. Just like yesterday, she felt perfectly refreshed, not an ache or discomfort anywhere. The spatial water, combined with long-term exposure to honeysuckle, was clearly effective; otherwise, her small frame would have collapsed long ago. Cheng Ying kicked Chi Wu awake. Today, she finally had a dedicated driver. "Get up, we’re going to the mountain to work."

Chi Wu was also accustomed to rising early and quickly dressed. The old woman outside had already prepared breakfast. "It's Sunday, why aren't you two staying home to play?"

She wanted her granddaughter to rest at home.

Cheng Ying replied, "I finally caught a strong laborer, I'm delighted, Grandma. Don't wait for us for dinner; we have company, so we’ll probably stay up on the mountain longer."

With that, she grabbed their dry rations and left. Cheng Ying genuinely thought that with Chi Wu there, they could accomplish much more.