One weekend, after dinner, Zhang Ziyao’s family gathered around the television, chatting as they watched a popular transmigration drama.
Suddenly, the youngest sister asked, “Mom, Dad, what would you do if you transmigrated to ancient times?”
Her father, Zhang Jianghai, said, “If I transmigrated to ancient times, I’d have to be the owner of a tavern.”
Her little sister, Zhang Zijin, asked their mother, Xu Xiayue, “What about you, Mom?”
Xu Xiayue replied, “Then I’d have to be the manager of your dad’s tavern.”
“What about you, big sister, second sister, and big brother?”
Her younger brother, Zhang Ziyu, said, “Well, if I went to ancient times, I’d have to be a top scholar.”
“Hahahahaha!” Zhang Ziyao and Zhang Ziqi burst out laughing.
The next day, when the whole family woke up, they were astonished to discover that they had really transmigrated. They were standing in a refugee line, waiting for the county magistrate to assign them a village.
They had nothing left and would have to start over.
Their mother, Xu Xiayue, encouraged them: “It’s okay. As long as we’re together, our family can build a good life!”
“Mom’s right!” Zhang Ziyao said.
“That’s right!” her four siblings chorused, fired up.
Fortunately, the county magistrate gave each refugee family a small plot of land and a dilapidated house.
After they had learned to farm and hunt and taken care of their basic needs, Zhang Ziyao and her family put the modern knowledge they had learned to use in ancient times.
In the end, they opened a tavern, then a whole chain of them, bringing in a fortune every day.
With money and free time to spare, Xu Xiayue began worrying about her eldest daughter’s marriage prospects, unaware that the right person had been by her side all along.
