Blizzard of 1980: I Found a Young Educated Woman from the Start

In 1980, I transmigrated into the body of a sickly man with nothing to his name, and was forced to take in two frail sisters who had been sent to the countryside. A bitter winter, a dilapidated hut, no food. Everyone said we wouldn’t last three days. But they forgot that I was once the king of wilderness survival. When smoked meat hung from every beam in my house and the heated bed warmed our quilts, only then did my red-eyed relatives dare come knocking. I weighed the hatchet in my hand and shielded the sisters behind me. “I used to have nothing to lose. Now I have a home to protect.” “Make a move. I dare you.”