Quick Transmigration to the 1980s: I Become a Rich Woman at a Textile Mill

“In the spring of 1983, the radio at the Dongfanghong Textile Mill in Chunjiang was playing ‘On the Fields of Hope.’ Loom operator Lin Yuxi woke up, feeling the coarse sleeve worn through at the elbow. The original owner had been a complete menace, and her fellow workshop workers avoided her. Even Gu Beichen, the perpetually stern technician who repaired the machines, had tossed the ration coupons she'd offered him onto the table. No System, no pocket dimension. She stared at the Suzhou embroidery pattern her grandmother had pressed into her hands on her deathbed, tucked beneath her pillow, and suddenly smiled. If she'd been dealt such a lousy hand, then with these hands that had once embroidered gold thread onto couture gowns, she'd stitch the workshop's cold shoulders, its broken spindles, and the technician's heart, frozen as hard as ice, back to life, one stitch at a time.”