The System Wanted Me to Be a Landlady (GL) - Chapter 2: Need for Poverty Relief

Chapter 2: Need for Poverty Relief

Song Yuyan also wanted to know what was wrong and why she suddenly appeared in such a strange place.

Although the little girl shouted her name, she knew the girl wasn’t calling her.

Before she realized she was here, she had just left her workplace to return to school when her dad called, asking her to go back for overtime.

Thinking about the past two years, always rushing between her workplace, construction sites, and school, she felt exhausted and decided to slack off. She sat on a garden chair to rest before returning for overtime.

As she leaned back, looking at the clear blue sky and counting the drifting white clouds, wondering when such days would end, the clouds suddenly scattered and gathered, gathered and scattered, turning from white to dark and back again, as if a video was fast-forwarded hundreds of times.

She thought her eyes were playing tricks, but then the chair beneath her seemed to vanish, and she fell to the ground with a sense of weightlessness.

The fall made her pass out.

When noisy voices woke her, two dirty little kids were around her—their shiny foreheads had a small tuft of hair tied with red string, making them look like little radishes.

Seeing her awake, the two little radishes scattered.

Before she could figure out what was happening, someone banged on the door loudly, shouting “Aunt Xue’s” classic lines from outside.

…

“What’s going on?” Song Yuyan’s mind was still foggy. She felt like she saw and heard something while unconscious, but she forgot it after waking.

Realizing she was lying on the ground, she quickly got up, but unsteady, she kicked over a clay pot by her foot.

Looking down, she saw she was wearing worn-out straw sandals, a pair of pants, and a rough linen top with a crossed collar, tied at the waist with a cloth strip—a very “photo studio” style of ancient clothing. Both her top and pants were as dirty as the two little radishes’ clothes.

“A dream?” That was Song Yuyan’s first thought.

But she had no time to recall what happened because the person shouting her name outside seemed angry. They threatened to report her to the authorities, and worried about being arrested in her confused state, she hurried to open the door.

She saw a young girl with a tender face and some baby fat, looking about thirteen or fourteen—just a little girl to Song Yuyan.

The girl looked furious, as if she wanted to swallow Song Yuyan whole, making her uneasy and even more confused about what was happening.

The girl spoke like firecrackers, leaving Song Yuyan more bewildered, but she understood the girl’s words. Seeing a bundle of vegetables, she realized she was now a “vegetable thief.”

What was going on? Wouldn’t the heavens let her process the plot?

For now, she thought to pay for the vegetables, send the girl away, and slowly figure out what happened.

Thinking this, Song Yuyan reached to check her body. She remembered from TV dramas that money pouches were usually kept near the stomach, but no matter how she searched, she found no pouch.

Soon, she awkwardly realized—not that she couldn’t find the pouch, but she had no money at all!

The atmosphere froze, tinged with embarrassment.

For the first time in her life, Song Yuyan was called a thief and had no money to compensate. If this got out, her friends might laugh, and her strict, old-fashioned dad would never let her off.

“I… I don’t have money,” Song Yuyan said sheepishly under the girl’s fierce gaze.

Tang Zhi’s eyebrows shot up, and she scolded without holding back: “When have you ever admitted to having money? You always use no money as an excuse, shamelessly begging me not to pursue your vegetable-stealing crime! Once I let you off, you do it again, even worse!”

As she scolded, her eyes reddened, and her voice carried a sob, as if all her grievances had built up and finally burst out.

Song Yuyan was stunned, unsure how to respond.

She suddenly remembered this house was “her” territory, and money might be inside, so she said, “Wait a moment.”

She rushed into the house, only to see it could be described as “bare walls”—a table with a broken leg in the center, two long benches, and nothing else.

Under these conditions, she had little hope of finding money.

There was another room inside, and the two little radishes were peeking at her from the doorway, startling her.

Thinking they might know where the money was, Song Yuyan crouched down and asked, “Do you know where the money is?”

The older radish turned away stubbornly, ignoring her, while the skinny, pale one wiped his nose and said in a soft voice, “No money, no money.”

“…Is this house that poor?!”

She decided to deal with the girl outside first.

“I don’t have money now, but don’t worry, once I find some, I’ll definitely pay you!” Song Yuyan said, her face slightly warm from saying such words, like asking for credit.

Tang Zhi, clearly used to such excuses, wiped her eyes and said, “You always say that! If my brother weren’t away with Lord Ming on important business, I’d call him back to drag you to the authorities!”

Song Yuyan knew “Lord Ming” meant the county magistrate, so Tang Zhi’s brother worked for him, making her someone Song Yuyan couldn’t afford to offend.

“Once I figure out the truth, I’ll give you an explanation, so go home for now,” Song Yuyan said, opening the door. Tang Zhi looked at her doubtfully and left.

Absentmindedly, Song Yuyan returned to her doorstep, glanced over, and saw Tang Zhi still standing at her door, watching her. A strange feeling flashed through Tang Zhi’s heart, and she hurriedly went inside.

Song Yuyan watched her enter to confirm her address. If she didn’t, it would be awkward if she couldn’t find Tang Zhi later to apologize after sorting things out.

Closing the door, she looked around the courtyard.

The courtyard was small, about forty or fifty square meters. A locust tree grew in the southwest corner, and the east side had a storage room and kitchen. A stone table stood by the kitchen door with clay pots on it and straw and wood piled underneath.

She entered the room to the left of the main hall. The two little radishes were there, now sitting on the bed.

The room had one south-facing window, a wooden table below it with a messy surface but no valuable items. Next to it were two large chests, then a bed, and at the bed’s end, a wooden bucket covered with a board, reeking of feces even without lifting it.

The room, main hall, storage room, and kitchen were all made of mud bricks, though the roof had tiles, better than the neighbors’ thatched roofs.

Still, this house’s economic level was far from well-off—it barely met the standard of extreme poverty!

This house needed poverty relief.

Song Yuyan felt a headache. Her dad was waiting for her to return for overtime, so what was she doing here?

Right, overtime!

Song Yuyan jolted. She remembered that because she resisted continuing her “workplace, construction site, school” routine, this huge change happened.

She clearly recalled sitting on the chair, not asleep, so she was unlikely dreaming. Something strange had truly happened to her.

Things she had forgotten slowly resurfaced in her mind. Calling it forgetting wasn’t quite right—these memories and experiences weren’t hers but belonged to another Song Yuyan’s life.