Transmigrating to the Fifties: My System Can Redeem Anything

I collapsed on the operating table. When I opened my eyes again, I was in a freezing mud hut in the 1950s.

A medical student from the Republican era had transmigrated into the body of an orphan girl with a bad political background, starving and freezing, never sure she’d live to see another day.

By chance, she gained a golden finger that let her exchange points for anything. She earned points through good deeds and missions.

A pill, a handful of grain, a volume of books: anything could appear out of thin air.

While others struggled to get enough to eat, she secretly cultivated fertile fields, opened a clinic, and started night school.

Cotton-padded coats piled up in winter, granaries overflowed during years of famine, and every village child learned to recite poetry.

From barefoot village doctor to pillar of the region, she changed her fate and shifted the course of the times.

In the end, she became famous across the land, establishing medical clinics, promoting agricultural science, and enlightening the people. Her achievements would shine for generations.