Apocalypse Farming: Auntie, Don't Cry

At forty, she was once responsible for both aging parents and young children. Day after day, year after year, she had let herself sink into the drudgery of mechanical labor, bowed down by the humble grind of making ends meet. Then one day, the whirlpool of fate swept away everything she had counted on and tore away her support. Her withered hands groped desperately, but she could not grasp the fabled lifeline. Then, on another day, still forty as ever and once destined to grow coarse and worn, she somehow regained the figure and beauty of her twenty-year-old self. Good heavens, was this a blessing or a curse? Before she had even had time to get used to it, what was a younger man from her past doing barging into her life?