Quick Transmigration: Working Hard to Improve Myself

When Luo Yi opened her eyes, the first thing she noticed was the scent of firewood mingled with pine. It was nothing like the exhaust fumes and takeout food aromas of the city in her previous life. The smell was earthy and comforting, and it pulled her out of her daze.

She flexed her fingers, feeling the delicate, childlike thinness of her bones. Her palms were lightly calloused, as if she had spent years helping with small household chores. She slowly took in her surroundings. Old newspapers covered the ochre walls, their edges curled and yellowed. Thick wooden beams stretched across the ceiling, with strings of dried corn and red chilies hanging from them. By the window stood a chipped wooden table, its paint peeling. A coarse ceramic bowl sat on top, with traces of rice porridge still clinging to the bottom.

“Wasn’t I dead?” Luo Yi wondered. Her final memories flooded back in an instant: she had been working late that night and was walking through a dark alley on her way home. The streetlights were out, and suddenly the ground gave way beneath her. She fell into a sewer with its manhole cover missing, and the freezing water instantly engulfed her