That night, after taking a bath, Milo had every intention of carrying out the plan he'd thought up earlier that afternoon. But as soon as his head hit the pillow, he fell asleep—and completely forgot all about it.
The next morning, he was half-asleep when his father carried him to the toilet. The stench quickly woke him up!
Having changed gender in this life, he still wasn't used to it—
even the posture for "doing business" felt awkward. It had taken him days to get the hang of it.
"Haha! My boy's made another contribution! Good job, good job!"
Tom's loud praise rang out early in the morning.
Milo sighed inwardly—Even going to the toilet earns me compliments now. What's the point of performing magic tricks anymore?
Everyday life was full of surprises indeed.
When Tom returned to the bedroom, he proudly bragged to his wife, which only earned him an eye-roll from Lucia.
Breakfast was simple—sweet potato and rice porridge. Each child had a cup of milk in front of them. Lucia made sure to save one for herself too.
Milo, however, got a special treat: one boiled egg and a glass of milk.
Tom refused to drink milk—he thought it was too expensive and a waste of money.
After breakfast, he was called away again to discuss something at the commune office.
The sisters went with their mother to embroider, tend to the vegetable patch, and feed the pigs.
Meanwhile, Milo couldn't stop thinking about finding out what year it was. That meant he needed to get into the study.
His mother and sisters were busy sewing, and he was bored out of his mind. As an adult soul trapped in a child's body, even if he had toys, he wouldn't have wanted to play with them.
Just as he was about to sneak out—
"Milo, where are you going?"
Lucia caught him by the arm before he could leave the room.
Milo froze.
"Mom, does Dad have any picture books in his study?" he asked, trying to sound casual.
Lucia shook her head. "Neither I nor your sisters ever go into the study. When you grow up, maybe you'll have the chance. That's where your father works."
Chloe laughed. "Little brother, even if you went in, you'd be disappointed. Dad doesn't buy picture books—why would he waste money on that?"
All six other sisters nodded in agreement.
"Besides," Chloe added, "you can't even read yet! What's the point of looking at picture books?"
Milo sighed dramatically. "You're all doing embroidery or housework. I'm so bored. How about you tell me a story instead? Maybe share some of the latest gossip from the village? What's new?"
His tone was deliberately playful—he was fishing for information.
Chloe laughed. "A story? Let Mom tell you one. As for gossip—what are you, a little old lady now? You want to be the 'Gossip Grandpa'? You barely even know anyone!"
Her words sent the room into laughter. The sisters giggled uncontrollably, and poor Milo's face turned bright red.
"Alright, stop teasing your little brother. Haven't you seen the movie Ermao's Story?" Lucia couldn't bear to see Milo getting laughed at, so she jumped in to defend him.
And so, Milo listened as his mother told the story—which, as it turned out, was actually from a movie called The Adventures of Ermao.
After hearing the plot, Milo couldn't help but think: Wow, the author really had some nerve! Everyone knows about Sanmao's story, and this guy just changed it to Ermao. Guess that's one way to avoid being accused of plagiarism.
From his mother and sisters' conversation, he also learned that the current year was 1968. In recent years, famine had struck many places—there wasn't even enough food in the cities.
Children who had graduated, or those over twelve who weren't married or employed, often caused trouble out of boredom, so the government began sending educated youths to the countryside.
Originally, the "educated youth program" was meant to help both sides—city youths would work with villagers to produce more food and strengthen ties. But most of those city kids had never done farm work before, couldn't handle heavy labor, and some couldn't even feed themselves.
Some city families even asked their children who were sent to the countryside to send food back home! Only the truly hardworking youths managed to save any grain, and even then, life was tough.
Here in the South, things were a bit better—there was plenty of rain, and though floods sometimes hit, they were rarely catastrophic.
Still, life in the countryside was far from easy. There were plenty of mountains and land, but during bad harvest years, even that wasn't enough to fill everyone's stomachs.
Milo recalled what he'd read in the "book's plot": later that year, too many refugees would flood the area. People would dig up wild vegetables that couldn't fill their bellies. When even tree bark ran out, they'd resort to boiling grasses that even cattle refused to eat.
If things got that bad, should they flee deeper into the mountains?
They'd have to start preparing now—before the famine spread. This village was near the main road; heading deeper into the hills might be the only way to survive the next two years.
The problem was, even though Milo had his mysterious space, he couldn't openly store supplies or tell his parents about it. Somehow, he had to convince his miserly parents to relocate—
and that gave him a headache.
Lost in thought, Milo stopped paying attention to the story entirely.
Lucia and the girls just thought he was completely absorbed by the tale.
As the days passed, the heat grew unbearable—stuffy and airless. A full month had already gone by since Milo had entered this strange world inside the book.
---
Meanwhile, Hazel was still a baby—too young to turn over, crawl, or even sit. Her body was swaddled tightly, and even when she entered her mysterious space, she did so through pure thought.
Collecting "likes" was far harder for her than it was for Milo.
At a little over a month old, her biggest luxury was being taken outside to bask in the sunlight. That's when she finally saw where they lived—a dangerous mountain region near the peak, sheltering in a large cave.
Other villagers had built thatched huts nearby, and they all survived mainly by hunting.
After Hazel's near-accident before, her parents didn't dare let the nanny, Aunt Zhang, care for her alone. Whenever they went outside, Hazel was carried in her mother's arms.
Tanner went hunting every day with his sons and several villagers. They made their own bows and arrows, and with so many men, they could take down large animals.
Sometimes, volleys of arrows would bring down packs of wolves. Eventually, even the wolves learned to avoid their territory—these humans were too dangerous.
Instead, Tanner and his hunting party began venturing deeper into the mountains, where even fiercer beasts lurked.
They preserved the meat by air-drying it. With no rice or grain, they survived on wild vegetables and meat broth.
Occasionally, they'd go down the mountain to trade dried meat for a little salt or grain—but since they had no ration tickets, trading was the only option. They also sometimes went to the seaside to fish and collect seafood, but since their boats had been swept away by floodwaters, they couldn't go far.
Tanner was waiting for Hazel to grow a bit before leading people down the mountain again—to either rebuild their old village or move somewhere new.
Their crops had been destroyed, the fishponds flooded, and their factory equipment lost. As both factory director and village leader, Tanner had barely managed to save the silk they'd looted earlier, storing it somewhere safe.
Looking at his baby daughter, he couldn't help but soften. She was his precious little girl—the joy that completed his family.
After all, with eight mischievous sons, he and his wife had long seen their boys as little more than weeds.
Hazel thought bitterly, So that makes me the "weed" in your mouths, huh?
By the time she was two or three months old, Hazel could finally roll over and babble to express herself. Her hand gestures and facial expressions were clear enough that her brothers started to understand her.
When she could move freely, Tanner finally removed the bindings from her arms and legs.
That's when trouble began.
If her seventh or eighth brother said something she didn't like, Hazel would kick them—or even slap them with her tiny hand!
One kick. One smack.
She still held a grudge from two months ago when they'd bullied her. Whenever the seventh or eighth brother came too close, they'd get hit or kicked without mercy.
"Waaah!"
The two would cry pitifully and run to their parents to complain.
Tanner would just chuckle and scold them, "What, you're letting your baby sister's tiny kicks make you cry? Some 'men' you are! Acting like little girls instead!"
Being such a doting father, Tanner completely dismissed their tears.
The seventh and eighth brothers got no sympathy at all—if they went to complain to their older brothers, they'd get teased; if they went to their mother, she'd just roll her eyes.
The two little boys could only sob in frustration, humming mournfully like "little cabbages in the cold wind."
( End of chapter )