The mountains behind Dawang Village were shrouded in mist all year round. The elders always said a strange goddess lived there. She hummed odd tunes while identifying medicinal herbs, and could tell you what a leaf was good for with a touch of her fingertips. But anyone with ill intentions could never find her, not even halfway up the mountain.
He Landou was a pitiful transmigrator. On her first day in this world, she stood motionless, staring blankly at the dense mountain forest. All she could think about was how to die with some dignity. And for some reason, despite having no System, no pocket dimension, and no spirit spring, she had a strange skill: whenever she found herself puzzling over something unfamiliar, her mouth would automatically start singing, “You may think it’s just a weed, but it’s a treasure of the mountains...”
After that, her off-key singing could often be heard among the woods. When she passed a damp rock face, a tune would come to her, and she would casually pick some Pyrrosia leaves, a potent remedy for urinary problems. When she parted the reeds by the creek, a melody would spill from her lips, and she would recognize the plantain hidden within, a cure for painful, difficult urination.
With her unique “herb-identifying songs,” she cured the villagers’ dysentery and colds. In her spare time, she hummed as she searched the hillside for purslane and bracken to serve with meals, or dug up tender spring bamboo shoots in the bamboo grove. With a bamboo basket on her back and a tune on her lips, she wandered through the mountains, gathering herbs and growing vegetables. Her days were peaceful and content.
As long as the author never abandons him, he is a good author. I hope the heroine is not the Virgin Mary!