Opening her eyes, Lin Xia returned to the winter of 1982. The evil mother-in-law is about to sell her feverish daughter to an old bachelor for fifty yuan as a child bride. The memory of her daughter suffering from high fever and convulsions, and dying in the snow, stung her eyes.
She picked up the carrying pole, knocked over the trafficker, took the bloody fifty yuan, and left the house with her daughter. A dilapidated house with air leakage from all sides, a penniless pocket, and pairs of eyes waiting to see her jokes.
Fortunately, she has craftsmanship from later generations in mind. Starting from a pot of pig offal that no one wants, the secret old stew is full of aroma. She wants to earn a stable future for her daughter with both hands in this era full of opportunities.
But why did the veteran who always came here to "have a meal" even take out his bankbook?
