[System space + adorable kids turn the tables + women supporting women + everyday life + no romance]
Lin Shuang, a modern military doctor, is blown into ancient times and becomes a downtrodden wife. The moment she opens her eyes, she finds herself in hell mode:
Three mu of saline-alkali soil, four hungry mouths to feed, and a vicious mother-in-law swinging a broom as she tries to seize the last few taels of compensation money.
Lin Shuang retaliates by stabbing the old woman's palm until it festers, then sets fire to the ancestral home that has been sucking them dry.
"From now on, whoever lays a hand on my children will lose that hand!"
With a golden glow from her left hand, she produces out-of-season potatoes. With silver needles in her right, she saves dying villagers.
But there is something odd about this batch of kids:
Her lame eldest son becomes the youngest scholar in the cabinet, her pale-faced second daughter turns into a business prodigy, and her sickly third son is pursued by the Valley of the Medicine King, who keep calling him their grandmaster. Even the wolf cub she rescued becomes the youngest military commander on the frontier.
She digs irrigation canals to bring in mountain springs and leads the village women in ecological farming.
She opens a clinic and teaches medicine, helping widows support themselves with their own mortar and pestle.
She builds a girls' school, teaching them arithmetic and how to identify medicinal herbs: "If the world won't make a path for us, we'll carve one ourselves!"
On a rainy night, Jiang Shu stands on his crutch to guard the medicine chest. "If you want to touch my mother's medical books, you'll have to step over my dead body."
Jiang Li slaps the account book down on the table. "No amount of gold could buy the homestead my mother wants."
Jiang Xun presses a silver needle to the clan elder's throat. "Call my mother a husband-killer again, and we can find a new clan elder."
When the people who once bullied and humiliated her come begging for prescriptions, all five children draw their swords in unison:
"Our mother's rule: villains pay ten thousand taels of gold for a consultation!"
