Chapter 11: Midnight at Zero Hour

Li Jixiang was momentarily stunned. She had never considered that during her school hours, when she wasn’t home, Grandma Li was left to eat these coarse cakes. To her, they tasted truly awful—hard, dry, and scraping against the throat. An inexplicable pang of discomfort welled up inside her.

“Hey, Jixiang, why are you home? Why didn’t you go to class? Are you feeling unwell?” Grandma Li asked in confusion.

Before Li Jixiang could answer, Ma Hongmei butted in, “Jixiang wasn’t feeling well. She fainted during class, so I brought her back.” She finished with a sly grin, casting a sidelong glance at Jixiang and then at the cakes, as if trying to claim credit.

Li Jixiang rolled her eyes inwardly. Wasn’t it just that you wanted to skip class, acting like some chivalrous hero, angling for a free meal? Whatever, she didn’t care for those dry cakes anyway—let her have them.

With that thought, she grabbed two of the coarse cakes from the winnowing basket and glanced at the rice jar and the sacks used for storing grain.

Empty. As pristine as a snowy field in early winter—blindingly clean and utterly bare, making her heart skip a beat. If she didn’t activate the Fortune Base today, tomorrow she’d have nothing left to eat but dust—and perhaps the north, south, east, and west winds.

“Jixiang, these cakes are really tasty. Are you sure it’s okay to give them to me? What will you eat?” Ma Hongmei licked her fingers, blissfully unconcerned.

Li Jixiang smiled gently, conveying that friends should share their fortunes. Ma Hongmei’s eyes instantly sparkled.

“It’s alright, Grandma. I’m fine. In the afternoon, I’ll go up the mountain with Hongmei to dig for wild vegetables. The weather is much warmer today—the wild greens should be sprouting in the fields.”

From the original host’s memories, the back mountain was a treasure trove: in spring, wild vegetables; in summer, wild fruits; in autumn, chestnuts scattered everywhere. But the mountain paths weren’t easy, and Grandma was too old. Apart from a few trips as a child with her mute father, she had never gone again.

Every year around this time, girls and young wives from the neighboring village would gather with baskets to dig for wild greens on the back mountain, and many aunties from town joined the lively crowd.

These cakes were enough to put anyone off, but if you mixed the coarse flour with wild greens and fried them in oil, the taste was actually quite decent.

It was the perfect opportunity to put Ma Hongmei to work; after all, those who eat for free can’t complain about doing a little labor.

Before leaving, she stopped by An Chen’s house, saw the two brothers, and explained her situation to Aunt An, saying she couldn’t tutor her son today. After successfully earning three rounds of goodwill points, she left the An brothers’ house with a satisfied smile under their watchful gaze.

Now, her popularity value had reached 965. She had tapped all the people she could. Now she could only hope to meet someone on the mountain, to see if she could rack up a few more points.

After all, her current persona was that of a lonely, impoverished girl, caring for a sickly elder while struggling to study and keep herself fed—a narrative that drew sympathy, especially from compassionate aunties.

With a basket slung over her arm, Li Jixiang silently followed the skipping Ma Hongmei into the mountains.

Fortunately, after a night of spring rain, wild greens had sprouted everywhere.

Unfortunately, they didn’t run into a single soul along the way—no one to charm, no goodwill points to earn.

Life was tough. Jixiang sighed.

She dug up a basketful of wild greens, pulled a handful of bracken on the way home, and returned. Ma Hongmei was willing to give most of her basketful to Li Jixiang, only taking a small basket herself—after all, all the tools belonged to Li Jixiang’s family. She’d managed to skip class, get a free meal, and had no complaints—she was truly carefree.

The day passed quickly. After dinner—a simple porridge of wild greens—Li Jixiang was left in a daze.

She was determined to activate the Fortune Base today. Waiting even a moment longer made her restless and itchy, like a donkey chasing a dangling apple—so close, yet just out of reach, spurring her forward.

Right now, Li Jixiang thought this must be how those in direct sales felt—always chasing a goal dangled before them, constantly striving to develop and reach new targets, pushing themselves ceaselessly.

She never imagined she’d one day be in direct sales herself. Don’t cry—hold steady. I can still win.

She glanced at the old, battered clock. It was almost nine. People in town went to bed early. At this hour, let alone anyone to charm, not even a ghost was about.

Since she could only rack up popularity points once per day, after midnight it would be a new day—she’d have to find a way to max out her points right after midnight and unlock her Fortune Base.

Grandma Li still felt weak after dinner and wasn’t well, so she went to bed early. Once an elder’s sleep was interrupted, insomnia would follow. Clearly, her post-midnight plan for earning points couldn’t involve Grandma.

Among the three prominent families, one was already out of the question, but two remained. Of the two An brothers, Little Heigu was a young man—harder to fool and inconvenient to approach. If someone saw her sneaking around in the middle of the night, it’d be troublesome.

That left only the chubby little one.

With her target set, Li Jixiang set her battered alarm clock to ring at eleven-thirty, got a good nap, and prepared to act when the time came.

Deep in the night, aside from the chorus of frogs, everything was silent. The crescent moon hung thin as an eyebrow in the sky.

Her little clock woke her on time. Li Jixiang quickly silenced it, careful not to wake Grandma.

She scooped a ladle of water, slapped her cheeks, and imagined herself a cold-blooded assassin about to complete one last job before retiring to her hometown for marriage.

Alright, time to act.

She slipped quietly out, closed the door, and headed for An Chen’s house.

On the way, she rehearsed her excuses: if the chubby boy was groggy, she’d tell him he was just dreaming; if he was fully awake, she’d say she was sleepwalking. Fooling a small child wasn’t much of a challenge.

Last time she visited, she pretended to tutor him but actually did his homework for him. She’d already scoped out which direction his room lay.

Behind the An family home was a big yard, and Li Jixiang had noticed a crooked locust tree there. With a run along the wall and a grab at the trunk, she could climb in.

Following her plan, she managed to scramble up the tree—not gracefully, but she got there.

Feeling quite pleased, she looked down through the window—only to meet a pair of bright, slightly double-lidded eyes peering at her from inside, the window sliding open.

Why wasn’t the chubby boy asleep?

Hugging the trunk, embarrassed but determined, she recited her prepared excuse.

“Um... I was sleepwalking.”

In her ears, the system’s '+1 +1' chimes sounded, signaling she’d passed midnight.

“Hello. Welcome to the Fortune Base,” the system intoned coldly.