Dress up as an Ancient Peasant Girl: Make Money by Making Jam

The moment red candle tears rolled down the back of my hand, I strangled the scream in my throat. The wedding quilt embroidered with mandarin ducks in front of me still smells sweet of new cotton, but the sound of my black-hearted mother-in-law scraping the last half of my jar of apricot jam with a silver spoon echoes in my ears when she died in her previous life. "She is a merchant girl after all. She is thinking about these despicable things even before she dies."