Long-distance running had once been Lin Xiaoxiao's strength, but the current body she inhabited was terribly out of shape—after just a short sprint, a suffocating pain seized her chest.

Driven by the thought of her stolen grain ration book and five yuan, she gritted her teeth, held her breath, and shot forward like a bullet.

Just as she was closing in, the thief tripped over something and fell face-first to the ground.

Lin Xiaoxiao dashed ahead. Swinging the sack of flour in her hand, she struck him hard across the back, then planted her foot firmly on him. "Hand it over!" she demanded.

The thief twisted his head around, eyes burning with malice. "Hand what over? Let go of me, you shrew!" he snarled, trying to push himself up and flip over.

Weaker than a man, Lin Xiaoxiao stumbled from his sudden movement—but in an instant, she lashed out with a kick, hitting him squarely in the center of his chest: a precise blow to the solar plexus.

The thief crumpled on the spot like a puppet with its strings cut. Clutching his chest, he gasped and groaned, "Murder! This woman's trying to kill me!"

Lin Xiaoxiao's expression was ice-cold. She knew that kick, even held back, could have been fatal. She crouched down, grabbed his arm, and with a sharp twist and a sickening pop, dislocated his right shoulder.

"My money. My ration book. Now."

Drenched in cold sweat and writhing in agony, the thief knew he was outmatched. With his good hand, he fumbled in his pocket and pulled out a handful of items—assorted loose change, ration coupons, and Lin Xiaoxiao's grain booklet. Clearly, he'd been busy that day.

She snatched back her five yuan and the booklet, stood up, slung the flour sack over her shoulder, and turned to leave.

Clutching his dislocated arm, the thief scrambled to his knees and wailed, "You can't just leave! What am I supposed to do now?"

Lin Xiaoxiao glanced at the gathering crowd and offered a cold smile. "Go to the Public Security Bureau. I'm sure they'll help you."

With that, she walked away, the flour sack resting casually on her shoulder.

Zhou Huai'an watched her go, his deep-set eyes narrowed thoughtfully. Her technique was unmistakable—swift and precise. The accuracy of the chest strike, the ruthless efficiency in dislocating the shoulder... it revealed a familiarity with the human body and a practiced execution. This was not the Lin Xiaoxiao he knew. The one he knew could never do such things.

Beside him, Ge Dazhuang was dumbstruck. Was that fierce woman really the Captain's wife?

Around the compound, she was known as shrewish and unreasonable, yet she fought like a seasoned fighter. He couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy for Zhou Huai'an.

Rubbing his chin, Ge Dazhuang ventured, "Captain, should we offer her a ride?"

After all, if Zhou Huai'an hadn't kicked that stone to trip the thief, Lin Xiaoxiao might never have caught him. Surely the Captain wanted to help her? Maybe smoothing things over would make life easier later.

Zhou Huai'an looked away. "No. We have business at the Bureau. Leave her."

Lin Xiaoxiao carried the ten-pound sack of flour home, her mind racing. Once married, her registered residence would be transferred to Zhou Huai'an's household. She couldn't understand why the original owner's family had been in such a hurry to marry her off and rush the transfer.

By all accounts, her family was fairly well-off—both parents worked, and her older siblings had jobs too. So why were they so desperate to marry her off so far away?

Lin Xiaoxiao had no memories of that period. Had the original owner suppressed them, or was she simply kept in the dark?

Either way, she needed to find a way to earn and save money quickly. After divorcing Zhou Huai'an, she'd need to buy property in the city to qualify for residency. But how? How could she make money in these times?

Lin Xiaoxiao came from a family of doctors, though her mother and brother had gone into business. Thanks to them, she understood commerce—her only uncertainty was what kind of business would thrive in this era.

As she entered the family compound, an idea struck her: If all else fails, I could become a barefoot doctor.

After all, practicing medicine in these times didn't require a license. Many village clinics were run by self-taught healers. Compared to them, her background gave her a real advantage.

But she quickly dismissed the thought. Zhou Huai'an would surely grow suspicious if she started treating people.

Exhausted from wandering the streets and confronting a thief, Lin Xiaoxiao changed clothes and collapsed onto the bed. Later, she rolled up her sleeves to make dinner.

She was no pampered girl—she loved cooking and excelled at it. Even her mother, a gourmet, had praised her dishes.

Mom... Her nose stung at the memory. Who could have imagined the Lin family's little princess would now be worrying about next week's groceries in the 1970s? Her family must be heartbroken...

She pressed her eyelids, holding back tears, and began kneading dough.

By the time Zhou Huai'an returned, golden lard scallion pancakes were sizzling on the stove. The first two were slightly burnt, but the rest were perfect—crisp, fragrant, and mouthwatering.

"You're back!" Lin Xiaoxiao beamed as he entered. "Fresh pancakes. Wash up and eat!"

Zhou Huai'an's throat tightened. He wasn't used to coming home to warm food and such a rich aroma. Before, the stove would be cold; he'd cook alone, and Lin Xiaoxiao would snatch her bowl before slamming the bedroom door shut.

"I used lard, scallions, and salt—no need for extra dishes," she said, flipping the last pancake. She'd checked earlier: the lard pot was nearly empty, and cooking oil felt too extravagant now that only Zhou Huai'an's salary supported them. Frugality was essential.

He washed his hands, carried the pancakes to the small table, then paused. Opening the cupboard, he pulled out a tin and a bowl. Two spoons of pale-yellow powder met boiling water, releasing a sweet, milky scent—malted milk.

Lin Xiaoxiao fumbled the stove lid shut, washed her hands, and sat down. The comforting aroma lifted her spirits. Zhou Huai'an slid the bowl toward her. "Drink this."

She glanced at the tin—malted milk, a nostalgic treat. Watching him put it away without making himself a serving, she found his quiet restraint oddly touching.

She took a grateful sip, eyes crinkling. "So sweet! Want to taste it?"

He shook his head, pouring plain hot water for himself instead. Just as he bit into a pancake, he spoke quietly: "I have meetings in the city soon. I could take you, if you'd like to go."

Lin Xiaoxiao's heart leapt. "Really? You'd take me?"

Zhou Huai'an studied her—the eager hope brightening her face. He lowered his gaze, chewing slowly. Should I tell her about the Sheng family's situation? And how does she know so much about medicine...?