Clara Weston looked around in bewilderment. The muddy fields, a few occasional dilapidated mud houses, and the clear, azure sky...

Straining her eyes to see in the distance, she could not see the edges of any towering skyscrapers piercing the sky.

She followed her vague memories back to that familiar mud house. All the objects inside were shabby and worn, but she had personally used each one. Even the damp, moldy smell within the house was familiar.

Clara Weston had been reborn. She found it hard to believe as she slowly scanned the home she once knew. Her hand gently caressed the old wooden table, its dents all too familiar to her. This table, with its yellow paint almost completely worn away, had accompanied her for a full eighteen years.

Written on the calendar on the table was the date: July 13, 1979.

She had just concluded a business discussion and closed her eyes for a moment’s rest on the couch, only to wake up standing in the fields of her old home, in an 18-year-old body.

How did she travel back in time? This was too absurd.

After decades of struggle and hard work, her body had inevitably developed a few problems. Sometimes, she would suffer from headaches, but after being examined by a hospital, the conclusion was that it was simply overwork and normal aging. How could she possibly have slept and never woken up?

Her father had strived tirelessly to provide for her education. After years of hard work, she finally managed to establish a successful career and had the ability to provide for him in his later years. But now, she had lost the opportunity to repay him, and Clara Weston felt her heart being crushed; a tear slowly welled up in the corner of her eye.

She had never married and did not have any children. Being the only child, her father was her only family member.

She had worked so hard all her life, but now she had to start all over again...

"Second sister, let me go with you to pick mushrooms." A skinny little boy with a dark face, dressed in patched-up, worn-out clothes, crouched beside Clara Weston and said. He was her younger brother, just six years old.

Clara Weston put down the bamboo basket she was working on and patted his head. The boy immediately leaned contentedly against her, a wide smile crossing his face.

Their mother, Ward Helen, was notorious in Willowbrook Village for her laziness. While the men were out working in the fields, she did not even make food at home. From a young age, the children had to make their meals. Ward Helen always complained about how it was a curse for her to have married into their family, often arguing, "Why cook when there's hardly anything to eat?"

Moreover, she was quick to engage in arguments and gossip with the neighbors; all the members of the entire production team couldn't stand her.

Her father, Clara Arthur, is a just man afraid of his wife in the nice way of putting things, and a pushover in a harsh way. The neighbors would often tell him that a bit of physical discipline would set his wife straight, but he barely scolded her, let alone laid a hand on her. This only led to Ward Helen being more of a bully and making his life even harder.

However, Clara Arthur couldn’t help but dote on his children. He worked harder than anyone else to make sure he could pay Clara Weston's high school tuition, which was a mere three yuan and twenty cents. When he couldn’t come up with the funds, he would plead with the teachers to let him pay on credit.

Therefore, Clara Weston dedicated her whole life to her father.

She's the second child of the family, now eighteen years old. She had just taken the college entrance exams, and her acceptance letter would be arriving soon. Being the only university student in the village, her family celebrated for quite some time. It meant she could finally leave their poor rural area.

Indeed, she left home, never asking about the family’s situation. She was sick of poverty and didn't want to return until Ward Helen left, her siblings settled down, and only her father was left at home. It was then that she realized the man who'd been as strong as a mountain in her childhood had aged.

Back in the day, they would have only vegetables and steamed cornbread to eat, along with porridge that barely had any rice grains in it. It was a miracle that the four siblings managed to survive without a proper meal, their faces sallow and bodies thin.

Her elder brother, Clara Peter, was the image of their father in character. At 22, he was yet to marry, a rarity during a period when people started families at a younger age. He didn’t wed until he was 28; thankfully, his wife was a strong woman. Together they started a small business and now live a prosperous life.

The third child, Clara Melinda, 16 years old, only received a primary school education before she began helping around the house. She didn't resemble either parent and was hardly noticeable. Yet, she wound up marrying a good man who cared for her deeply. They worked in harmony, and he amassed quite a fortune through ventures. As it turned out, she ended up living the most comfortable life among them all.

The youngest, Clara Elliot, was just 7 years old. When Clara Weston's conditions improved, she supported him through law school. The once silent little brother grew up to be a successful lawyer, his shyness from childhood nowhere in sight.

Clara Melinda was squatting by the door peeling corn cobs, Clara Peter had gone out collecting firewood. As food was rationed, so was firewood.

Cornstalks, wheat straws, beanstalks, and sweet potato vines were all allocated. Their large family relied mostly on Clara Peter and their father for labor, so the wheat and rice straw they received was far from sufficient for burning.

Looking at their few dilapidated clay houses, a sense of sorrow washed over Clara Weston. As a woman, she had fought her way to carve out a path in business. Would she have to start everything again?

That was her family's humble abode: six people living in three clay rooms. Her parents shared one room, her elder brother shared a room with their youngest, and she shared a room with Clara Melinda, all amidst the clutter.

All through her childhood, Clara Weston had faced hunger and cold. Only a fool would be fond of this place. She had barely returned since leaving for school.

She had already lived once; now, she planned to use her capability to change her family's predicament. Her elder brother needed money for a wife; her younger sister needed a dowry; her youngest brother needed to go to school. Everywhere they turned, money was needed.

At this time, those who are daring and smart can make money.

However, one must seize the moment. Opportunities are scarce, and perhaps some villages have already clandestinely commenced major operations. If she wants to make money for her family, depending on working points from the brigade is a hopeless endeavor. Her family would remain poor.

Even if it's just for tomorrow's meal for her younger brother, she has to find a way to make money in the county town.

In 1979, there were opportunities to make money everywhere. The air was still fresh, but just like in 2018, money was ever important. Being broke was always a painful state to be in.

Clara Weston held little brother Clara Elliot's hand. Both of them carried a large and a small bamboo basket on their backs and headed into the mountains.

"Is the basket heavy? If it's heavy, sister can carry it." The mountain roads were treacherous to tread, and the stumbling steps of her little brother beside her made Clara Weston's heartache.

"Second sister, it's not heavy. Even our teacher said I'm a real man," Clara Elliot pouted, step by step, following his sister.

"Okay. Let's walk a bit slower."

This is the beginning of the Plum Rain season. The mountains were full of wild mushrooms and ferns. Clara Weston planned to pick the wild mushrooms tomorrow and sell them in the town. Although the villagers would usually come up to pick and add to their meals, no one would consider selling these in the city. Wouldn't that be considered speculative profiteering for them?