Chapter 85: Chapter 85

Returning to the system space again after many years.

For the following decades, An Ning continued to live comfortably and leisurely. Every day, she read books, practiced painting, brewed tea, and made wine. Occasionally, she would go out for walks with her husband and son, or tease her grandchildren when they came to pay their respects.

As a First-Rank Junjun Lady personally conferred by the emperor, wherever she went, she was met with smiles. Even the younger generations below her were mostly eager to please.

Regardless of their intentions, Emperor Qianyuan was indeed an extremely rational ruler and an excellent executor. The two of them had always cooperated happily over the years. And when the fourth generation of the Lin family, Lin Yi, was named Tanhua (Placard) at the age of twenty-one—just like his father had been in his youth—completing the honor of father and son both achieving the Tanhua title, the old Lin family finally shed the label of being mere merchants.

It wasn’t until she personally witnessed her great-grandson firmly establish himself in the Hanlin Academy that Old Master Lin passed away peacefully in his sleep with a smile on his face.

If there was any turbulence afterward, it might have been due to the blatant favoritism of her father-in-law, the emperor, or perhaps the influence of her mother-in-law in the palace. The originally chosen successor once held considerable dissatisfaction toward her husband, Lin Jinghuai, as well as her—a woman who "meddled in politics" and "refused to stay in her place."

Of course, members of the royal family were always skilled at disguising their true feelings. Knowing his father’s temperament, the Sixth Prince never revealed any hint of his intentions in daily affairs. An Ning only noticed something amiss when Emperor Qianyuan fell seriously ill once, and the prince, perhaps thinking victory was assured, let a trace of his true nature slip through his usually impeccable facade.

In response, An Ning didn’t do much—she merely wrote a few prescriptions, extending the life of her cooperative partner by just a tiny bit.

Because the emperor on the throne lived for so long, most of the older princes were already graying, while the younger ones varied greatly in ability. After much deliberation, Emperor Qianyuan ultimately chose a promising grandson to be named Crown Prince.

As for whether this new ruler would pose a threat to the Lin family? Let’s just say the numerous royal uncles above him would give him enough trouble to deal with. Without any personal grudges, there was really no reason to waste time on a minor family like the Lins.

Besides, by then, her husband Lin Jinghuai was almost ready to retire, and as for the grandchildren, An Ning didn’t bother worrying about them.

If descendants couldn’t walk their own path with the legacy left by their ancestors, who else could they blame?

As the saying goes, the blessings of a gentleman last only five generations. Even divine beings couldn’t guarantee everlasting prosperity for their descendants, could they?

After a moment of reflection, An Ning quickly opened the task panel in her hand.

Unsurprisingly, this mission once again received a five-star rating, especially since the original host was extremely satisfied with the outcomes of Second Ya and Liu Wencai.

Flipping through the world’s storyline, An Ning’s earlier guess was correct. In the lifetime where Second Ya had not been reborn, the original host had indeed married Liu Wencai—and it was all due to an undeniable life-saving favor.

In fact, the reason the Intelligence-Enhancing Pill worked so effectively in this lifetime was partly because the original host had been an exceptionally intelligent and dexterous woman.

Shortly after joining the embroidery workshop, she was taken as a disciple by a master embroiderer. By the age of fifteen, one of her embroidery pieces was already selling for dozens of taels of silver in the prefecture city.

In her twenties, a single double-sided embroidery could fetch over a hundred taels, earning her fame throughout Taohua County. It was with this money that Liu Wencai was able to attend the best academy in the prefecture city, gradually finding excellent mentors and eventually passing the imperial examinations to become a Jinshi before he turned thirty.

Unfortunately, in the original host’s lifetime, after half a lifetime of hard work, she never got to enjoy the glory of being an official’s wife. Instead, her own husband plotted to kill her.

It must be said that Liu Wencai was quite clever. Unlike his frequent dismissiveness toward Second Ya, he was genuinely attentive to the original host, even clashing with Widow Lu multiple times over it.

Even after becoming a provincial graduate, he never took a single concubine or maidservant.

Add to that the fact that he had once risked his life to pull her out of a freezing river in the dead of winter—how could an inexperienced young girl not fall for him?

Because of these feelings, by the time the original host realized something was wrong with her health, it was already too late.

However, the original host was also a woman of calculation. Knowing that with her husband’s current cruelty, her only son would not fare well after her death, she decisively tampered with the hairpin she wore daily.

It must be said that once she let go of her lingering affection, the original host became frighteningly clear-headed, displaying an astonishing understanding of her husband.

Knowing that he prized his reputation above all, she predicted he would use his "beloved wife" for posthumous theatrics. On her deathbed, she wore only that one hairpin—their token of love—knowing he would wear it often to play the grieving widower.

And so, she successfully ensured her cheap husband met his end two years later, "dying of love-sickness."

Of course, the hairpin was only one of her contingency plans.

As for her accomplice, Widow Lu—well, wasn’t it perfectly understandable for a mother to fall ill and die after losing her son?

Compared to Second Ya’s methods in this lifetime, it must be said that intelligent people have their own ways. But when it came to revenge, Second Ya’s brute-force approach was far more cutting.

After all, with Second Ya’s limited intellect, she could never have devised a way to silently eliminate her unlucky husband. So she resorted to the most direct method—one that hurt the enemy a thousandfold but also cost her eight hundred.

In the end, she successfully ruined Liu Wencai’s reputation.

But it was also precisely because of Second Ya’s "lack of cleverness" that in the lifetime before An Ning arrived, she not only failed to send Liu Wencai to study in the prefecture city early but also delayed his becoming a provincial graduate until he was nearly thirty-seven or thirty-eight. By then, their son was already married with children, so replacing his wife might not have been worth the trouble.

Of course, An Ning suspected the most crucial factor was that Second Ya had likely exposed herself long ago without realizing it.

The legacy from the modern era might not have been of much use to a farm girl with narrow horizons like Second Ya, but for someone as cunning as Liu Wencai, it was a different story.

At the very least, with some unconventional strategies and poems, he successfully caught the attention of certain high-ranking scholars.

Reading this, An Ning couldn’t help but laugh in exasperation. Turning to the system dog beside her, she said with utter disbelief:

"These days, just anyone can be a protagonist, huh?"

Forget about moral character—his abilities were…

"Besides, what kind of deal did Second Ya get? Her so-called ‘opportunity’ was just to be a free cheat for someone like Liu Wencai?"

Thinking of the two "predecessors" before her, An Ning mused, there are countless female protagonists in the world, and even the most love-struck ones are a thousand times better than those who steal others’ opportunities—especially if it’s just to snatch a man.

But considering Second Ya’s pitifully limited life experience, An Ning didn’t say anything more.

To have been exposed to new knowledge and ideas, yet remain forever trapped by one’s narrow worldview—wasn’t that a tragedy in itself?

"Uh…" In the system space, the system awkwardly scratched its head.

"Actually, in terms of their luck values, those two weren’t really protagonists. At most, they were just temporary beneficiaries of a stroke of fortune in a certain timeline…"

An Ning remained unmoved:

"Isn’t it absurd enough that someone like Liu Wencai got such an opportunity in the first place?"

Well, it couldn’t argue with that.

But soon, the dog perked up again:

"Host, host! The difficulty level of this next mission is very high. Because previous taskers have failed too many times, it’s now classified as orange-level."

"Just in case, do you want to activate the system store?"

Glancing at the eager little dog, An Ning finally spoke lightly: "Sure, go ahead."

"Oh, and this mission…"

"Host, it’s set in a modern world!"

Muttering these words, An Ning suddenly smiled brightly. "By the way, didn’t you say this mission is very difficult? Since we’re opening the store, shouldn’t the Intelligence-Enhancing Pill be available for purchase?"

"After all, in a modern world, learning more can only be beneficial, right?"

Hearing this, the teacup-sized dog stiffened for a moment, its voice suddenly stammering:

"Th-that pill is very expensive, host! One costs fifty points. We might not even earn that much from a single mission…"

"Oh, really? In that case, forget it."

Surprisingly, An Ning was unusually agreeable this time.

"You’re right. As useful as it is, fifty points is way too expensive."

"Yes, yes! Totally not worth it!"

The dog nodded frantically.

Watching the system visibly relax, An Ning’s eyes darkened imperceptibly for a moment before quickly returning to normal.

A modern world… how wonderful.