The shrewish old woman brought over a bowl of black medicine. "If you're tough enough, you'll live. If you're not, you'll die."
In 1963, I transmigrated into the body of a rightist in Heichong Village, western Hunan. My rickety shack leaked, and my fever had left me with barely half a life in me.
Looking at the drafty hut and my own skin-and-bones body, I quietly activated the [Mountain Spirit System].
"Ding! Detected one thirty-year-old dendrobium."
"Ding! Gold-bearing sand detected in the groundwater."
"Ding! A five-pace viper's nest is thirty meters ahead. Host is advised to avoid it."
What others saw as barren, impoverished mountains were full of treasures in my eyes.
By foraging in the mountains and gathering herbs, I went from being the useless nobody everyone trampled on to someone the whole village depended on.
But the mountains were more dangerous than I'd imagined. Some people wanted to steal my herbs, some wanted to claim my mountain, and others wanted to snuff out my life in this chaotic world.
I gritted my teeth and fought to survive in the cracks, establishing myself step by step.
Only later did I learn that deep in these mountains lurked something more terrifying than century-old dendrobium. And the few young women who were always quietly following me seemed to have secrets of their own...
(Dear readers, this book is complete and won't be discontinued, so please enjoy it without worry.)
