Reborn as Cannon Fodder in the Sixties, I Win Big with My Decoding Talent

When Su Wan transmigrated, her grandmother had been dead for just three days. The clan head said, “The house is being repossessed, and the land confiscated.” Her aunt said, “An orphan girl like you will starve to death sooner or later.” The accountant, Su Youcai, smiled and said, “Girl, come to your uncle if you run into any trouble.”

Su Wan lowered her head and noticed a handwritten ledger among her grandmother's belongings. It read: Winter, 1968: 500 jin of relief grain, but only 300 jin distributed. Who had pocketed the remaining 200 jin?

She looked up and met Su Youcai's meaningful gaze.

In that moment, she understood: her grandmother hadn't died of illness.

Su Wan tucked the ledger into her inner pocket and walked into the orchard. “Clan head, give me a year. I can triple the yield from these twenty mu of rotten apple trees.” “If I can't, I'll leave the village of my own accord.”

A year later, the apple trees were laden with fruit. Three years later, the superior corn seeds she had cultivated were being planted across the province. Five years later, the accountant who had caused her grandmother's death was kneeling before her, begging for mercy.

What she was best at had never been trading insults and face-slapping. What she was best at was planting evidence and waiting patiently for the harvest.