Who Could Have Guessed? The Matriarch Only Wants to Farm and Reclaim Wasteland

After transmigrating into the body of the “discarded wife” of a general, the first thing I did was press my thumbprint onto the divorce papers and move into a derelict courtyard. It had half a mu of wasteland, a cold spring, and three girlfriends:

- Banxia: a sweet girl from the kitchen who’s good at turning “wasted” lard into soap;

- Yun Que: a super-strong errand maid who can swing a hoe and work an abacus;

- Bai Yin: a former accounting apprentice, a poker-faced girl who can do mental math faster than an abacus.

Daily check-in:

At dawn, crouch by the field counting potato sprouts, then bury a few copper coins between the rows and say, “Let money take root.”

In the afternoon, cut soap bars around the stone table. Goat milk and peach blossoms fill the courtyard with a milky fragrance that the wind sweeps into clouds.

At dusk, bring out a little stove to roast sweet potatoes. The sparks crackle like a preview of riches to come.

Now and then, the general passes by and gets bean trellis dropped on his head, leaving him with a commemorative scar that says, “Keep scoundrels away.”

The Grand Princess arrives just to snatch a piece of rouge, and while she’s at it, puts in a good word for their “Imperial Merchant Shop.”

Later, the estate grows to a hundred mu, self-heating hot pot reaches the borderlands, and an overseas island is renamed “Daughters’ Kingdom.”

At night, they don’t talk about love. They just stamp the ledger:

“Three hundred taels came in today. Tomorrow morning, we’ll buy the girls more desks.”

Money turns into seeds, one by one, and freedom blooms across every inch of land.

There’s no heart-wrenching drama, only the fragrance of soil and roasted sweet potatoes, mingling with the girls’ uncontrollable laughter