Zhao Guixiang died in a shack on the way to escape famine. When she opened her eyes, she was back to the night before her escape.
In her previous life, she was drained of all her savings by her three daughters-in-law and starved to death in the wilderness. In this life, she just wants to live.
The dowry copper thimble suddenly became hot - that old thing that she had worn for forty years actually led her into a brightly lit "ghost market". There was rice, meat and medicine, but you could only take out a handful at a time.
From being so frightened that he knelt down to beg for mercy, to daring to trade a piece of rag for a piece of ginger; from secretly saving his sick granddaughter, to publicly wreaking havoc to take back the power of the housekeeper - Zhao Guixiang never wanted to be a soft persimmon in this life.
On the way to escape, when someone was so hungry that he exchanged his food for food, she silently took out the pills from her arms; when someone was eyeing her "doorway", she sent the person into a heap of bandits with her backhand. The old scholar called her "Living Bodhisattva", and she shook her head: "I am not kind-hearted, I am confident."
But when refugees attacked at night, when the plague spread, and when old people who couldn't walk took the initiative to stay and die, she touched the thimble and thought: In this life, she can no longer watch people die.
But where did the vegetable seller who helped her in the "ghost market", those colorful bags, and those incomprehensible words come from?
She doesn't know. All she knew was that she could save just one person.
What the hell did you write?