Zhao Hongmei's composure shattered.
"System… how can you say that?" she demanded inwardly, panic rising in her chest. "He hadn't agreed when I left the house. He was still wavering. How could he suddenly decide to attend university? That's impossible!"
Her thoughts were sharp, almost shrill, echoing within the private chamber of her mind.
The mechanical voice responded at once, cold and devoid of inflection.
[Host, the System does not err. The mission has already failed. I advise the Host to abandon this matter and prepare for the next mission. Ensure success in order to recover Protagonist Halo points.]
Zhao Hongmei felt as though a basin of icy water had been poured over her head.
"No… I don't believe it," she muttered, her lips trembling. "Li Jianhua is already wrapped around my fingers. He would never go against my wishes."
There was a faint pause before the System replied again.
[Host… The outcome is factual. Li Jianhua has slipped beyond your influence. Furthermore, with a loss of 10 Protagonist Halo points, it will be significantly more difficult to sway him in the near future. Please await the next mission and accumulate Halo points to solidify your status as the true Protagonist of this world.]
Her nails bit into her palms.
"But you told me—once someone turned in my favor, they would not betray me," she accused, her thoughts burning with humiliation and rage. "How could Li Jianhua escape my grasp? Were you deceiving me all along you stupid system?"
For the first time, the System's voice shifted.
It deepened.
It pressed down upon her consciousness like an iron weight.
[Distrust toward the System detected. Punishment initiated. Ten-second electric shock applied.]
The sentence had barely concluded when agony exploded through her body.
A violent surge of electricity coursed from her skull to her fingertips, searing every nerve. Her muscles locked and spasmed uncontrollably. Her hair stood on end, static crackling against her scalp. Her knees buckled, and she collapsed onto the earthen ground, body convulsing as though struck by lightning.
Though the shock was not fatal, it was merciless.
Her throat tightened; no scream escaped, only a strangled gasp. In those endless ten seconds, she felt as though she were teetering on the brink of death—like a fish dragged from water, floundering helplessly.
Then, as abruptly as it began, it ceased.
Zhao Hongmei lay sprawled on the ground, limbs trembling faintly, her vision blurred with tears she refused to shed. The scent of dust filled her nose. Her pride felt more scorched than her nerves.
The System's voice returned, once more mechanical and indifferent.
[This is the penalty for doubting and cursing the System. Host, ensure that such behavior does not recur.]
A brief pause.
Then—
[As for Li Jianhua's defection: do not forget that Li Shuying is the one with the great fortune while you are the one with the worst luck. Her Halo is pure and stronger than you. She is like a destined Protogonist in the novels and you are not even one of those cannon fodder.]
The words struck harder than the electric current.
Zhao Hongmei's fingers dug into the soil. A surge of humiliation, resentment, and cold fury welled up within her.
Li Shuying… like a protagonist?
Her breathing gradually steadied, though her body still trembled faintly from the aftershock.
She had always known.
From the very beginning—even in her previous life—Zhao Hongmei had sensed it, though she lacked the words to articulate it then. Li Shuying was Heaven's chosen one.
Why else would everything unfold so perfectly for her?
They had been born into the same extended family, grown up in the same muddy village, breathed the same dust-laden air. They were of similar age, shared the same ancestral surname carved into the clan records. Yet their destinies diverged like two roads splitting at a mountain pass—one leading to the capital's bright avenues, the other sinking deeper into a forgotten backwater.
She could still recall the humiliation as vividly as if it were yesterday.
The year Li Shuying's family returned to the village in triumph, they did not come on foot or by rattling tractor. They arrived in a gleaming Hongqi sedan—the pride of the nation—its polished body reflecting the sun like liquid fire. Villagers crowded along the dirt road, whispering in awe.
Li Shuying stepped out in tailored clothing of fine fabric, her posture elegant, her bearing composed. Her brothers stood tall beside her, their aura unmistakably that of city elites. Even her parents radiated authority and prosperity.
And Zhao Hongmei?
She had stood among the villagers, her coarse cotton jacket faded and ill-fitting, her hands rough from years of labor. She remembered the sting of envious gazes—not directed at her, but at them. In that moment, she had felt smaller than dust.
Back in the 1960s, both her father, Zhao Depeng, and Li Shuying's father, Li Guoqiang, had served in the same regiment. Both had been squad leaders. Yet fate—or perhaps Heaven's favoritism—had favored one and cast aside the other.
That year, Li Guoqiang had uncovered a major human trafficking ring, rescuing the son of a prominent figure in the capital. At the height of the famine he also led his squad to hunt and collect food from the south western mountains. His merits were undeniable; his promotion swift.
Meanwhile, Zhao Depeng remained Squad leader and only after few years did he rise to Platoon leader, but due to his advance age he couldn't promot any further.
From that moment on, the gap between the two households widened irreversibly.
In her previous life, Li Jianhua had passed the college entrance examination with exceptional results and was directly assigned a cadre position in a Beijing ministry. Li Jianguo had been admitted to Beijing Medical University and later became a nationally renowned doctor, eventually serving at a top military hospital in the capital.
Even Li Jianmin—once thought the least academically gifted—had joined the military after high school. With the support of his brothers and father, he rose steadily through the ranks. When reform and opening-up began and private enterprise was permitted, he seized the opportunity, becoming one of the earliest entrepreneurs and later one of the most celebrated businessmen in the country.
And Li Shuying?
Though she had not entered Peking University, she was admitted to a respected institution—a remarkable achievement for a woman in that era, when few girls even attended high school, let alone university. She later became the director of a purchasing department in a major food factory. Eventually, she married a powerful figure in Beijing and lived a life of wealth and dignity.
A life like a princess.
Zhao Hongmei's own fate was a cruel contrast.
She married within the same village and bore six children in quick succession. When the one-child policy was enforced, her family received no state benefits. Each day was filled with labor, scolding, and blows. Her husband's fists fell as casually as rain; her mother-in-law's insults cut sharper than knives. By forty, she looked sixty—her youth worn away like fabric rubbed threadbare.
The day Li Shuying returned to the village in full glory, radiant even at forty, Zhao Hongmei felt as though someone were clawing at her heart.
Yet humiliation did not end there.
Her brutish husband, emboldened by drink and greed, demanded that she approach Li Shuying's family for money to renovate their crumbling house. "You're relatives," he had snarled. "Why shouldn't they help?"
Zhao Hongmei resisted. She argued. She even fought back.
The result was a beating that left her bruised and breathless. Her mother-in-law threatened divorce if she refused.
With no other choice, she went.
That night, she stood before what had once been a humble mud-brick dwelling. Now, it was a sprawling villa designed by a renowned overseas architect. Soft lights glowed through wide glass windows. The scent of fine cuisine drifted faintly through the air.
Her blood boiled.
Through the window, she glimpsed the family gathered around a grand dining table, laughter ringing warm and harmonious. Uniformed attendants and chefs moved discreetly, serving dishes like palace retainers. They sat like royalty.
Her gaze fell upon Li Shuying.
She was smiling—graceful, luminous—while the man beside her leaned close, serving her food with unmistakable affection.
That man.
Even at his age, he remained strikingly handsome. His thick brows, chiseled features, and composed demeanor exuded power and refinement. The way he looked at Li Shuying—gentle, protective—was something Zhao Hongmei had never received in her lifetime.
Her fists clenched.
Why?
Why was Heaven so biased?
Why did Li Shuying live as a cherished lady of the house while she endured life as little more than a servant in her own home?
A dark, violent resentment surged within her. For a fleeting, terrifying moment, she wished everyone inside that room would disappear. She imagined herself seated in Li Shuying's place, receiving that man's tender gaze.
It should have been her.
Suddenly, Li Guoqiang, seated at the head of the table, turned sharply toward the window.
"Who's there?" he called out, his voice firm and commanding.
Zhao Hongmei's heart leapt into her throat.
Panic seized her. Without daring to look again, she turned and fled into the night, her steps uneven against the dirt road.
She would not let them see her.
Not Li Shuying. Not that man.
She would not allow them to witness her humiliation.
As for her husband's rage or her mother-in-law's curses when she returned empty-handed—what difference would it make? They beat her every day regardless.
She ran as though ghosts were chasing her.
As she fled down the narrow dirt path, Zhao Hongmei's mind raced faster than her feet. She rehearsed excuses in her heart—how to soften her husband's temper, how to avoid the sting of a few harsh blows.
But before she could finish weaving her lies, her foot caught on an uneven patch of earth.
She stumbled.
The world tilted violently.
Her body pitched forward, and her forehead struck a jagged stone with a sickening crack. Warm blood gushed from the wound, flowing down her temple and staining the dry earth beneath her. The scent of iron filled her nostrils.
Her vision blurred.
The sky above seemed to spin, clouds dissolving into darkness. Her limbs grew cold, heavy. The distant sound of villagers calling faded like an echo swallowed by the mountains.
Then—
Silence.
---
When Zhao Hongmei opened her eyes again, she was lying in the familiar room.
The air smelled of coarse cotton quilts and wood smoke.
She sat up abruptly.
Her hands—small, slender, unscarred.
She rushed to the cracked bronze mirror hanging on the wall.
A thirteen-year-old girl stared back at her.
Her breath caught.
For a long time, she remained frozen, her fingers trembling against the cold mirror surface.
"This… this is impossible," she whispered.
At first, she believed it to be a dream born of resentment and regret. But as she stepped outside and saw the familiar faces she understood...
She had been reborn.
Not as someone else.
Not into wealth or power.
But into the same family. The same poverty. The same fate.
Her heart sank like a stone dropped into a deep well.
Why?
If Heaven was granting her another chance, why return her to this wretched life? Why not allow her to reincarnate into a better household? A cadre's daughter? Why must she endure the same humiliation, the same hunger, the same obscurity?
Her chest tightened with despair.
Without hesitation, she walked toward the river at the edge of the brigade. If fate refused to change, then she would change it herself—even if it meant ending everything before it began.
Just as she stepped onto the muddy bank, a cold mechanical voice sounded in her ear.
[Host… I am your Golden Finger. A System designed to assist you. I can help you exchange fortune with any person you deem suitable and elevate you to power. I will make you the Protagonist of this world.]
She froze.
The wind stirred the reeds along the river.
"Golden Finger?" she murmured.
Though she had never read novels or heard of such modern concepts, she was not without imagination. In village folklore, there were always stories of immortals granting blessings, of dragons hidden beneath rivers. The term "Golden Finger" sounded like divine intervention.
She swallowed.
"Can… can I swap my fortune with Li Shuying?"
The name slipped from her lips almost instinctively.
[Yes. You may exchange fortune with any designated target. However, you must complete assigned missions. One mission per week. Successful completion will earn you Protagonist Halo Points.]
"Protagonist… Halo Points?" she repeated, confused yet intrigued.
[Correct, Host. As your Protagonist Halo increases, your appearance will grow more refined and elegant. Your temperament will become captivating. Those you favor will naturally gravitate toward you and will not easily betray you. With sufficient Halo, you will become the true heroine of this world.]
Her heart pounded.
Hope—something she had not dared to feel even in her previous life—burst forth like spring shoots after a harsh winter.
From that day onward, she embraced the System's missions with fervor.
The early tasks were simple—small acts designed to secure her standing within her own family. She offered food to her family, endured her grandmother's scolding with lowered lashes, volunteered for chores before others could speak.
Gradually, her Protagonist Halo rose.
And with it, her fortune shifted.
During this harsh days, when villagers survived on thin coarse-grain porridge and coarse dry buns at the communal canteen, Zhao Hongmei found herself unusually lucky. Whenever she ventured into the mountains, she returned with small game or bundles of edible herbs, vegetables or mushrooms.
Others searched and returned empty-handed.
But she never did.
Her family began to rely on her.
Even her notoriously sharp-tongued grandmother looked at her with new appraisal.
Zhao Hongmei basked quietly in that praise.
Everything had progressed smoothly.
Until this week.
The System assigned her a significant mission: persuade Li Jianhua to quit school and seek work instead.
Her eyes had shone with excitement.
If Li Jianhua abandoned his studies, the Li family's future would dim considerably. Without higher education, how could he rise and become a cadre in Beijing?
Originally, the plan had been flawless.
Li Jianhua was dutiful and soft-hearted. A few carefully planted words, "The family is struggling," "A son must share the burden," "Filial piety outweighs personal ambition" would have been enough. He would sacrifice his dreams willingly, believing himself righteous.
Zhao Hongmei would merely provide gentle encouragement, playing the role of understanding confidante.
But today...
Li Shuying intervened.
And everything unraveled.
Zhao Hongmei bit her lower lip until she tasted blood.
Not only had she lost to Li Shuying—
She had failed the mission.
And lost ten Protagonist Halo points.
If the Halo dropped to zero…
The System had warned her: without Halo protection, her subtle advantage would disappear. Her charm would weaken. Opportunities would cease to fall into her hands.
The Halo was her shield.
It guided her steps toward hidden mountain treasures. It ensured her survival in these bitter years.
Now, with her points reduced significantly, she would need weeks to recover. Each successful mission yielded only two or three points. To surpass twenty again would require patience—and precision.
She inhaled slowly, steadying her heartbeat.
No.
She could not allow panic to cloud her judgment.
Li Jianhua had only insisted on continuing school. The university entrance examination was still years away. In these turbulent times—drought, shortages of food and resources —uncertainty lurked everywhere.
As the old saying goes, "Man proposes; Heaven disposes."
If one road closed, she would carve another.
Her gaze hardened, anger crystallizing into cold calculation.
"If you insist on dreaming of university, Li Jianhua…" she murmured softly, her lips curving faintly, "then I will ensure reality awakens you at the most critical moment."
In this lifetime—
She would never allow the Li family to rise above hers.
Not while she possessed the Golden Finger granted by fate itself.