Reborn in 1977, I will no longer be my brother's blood bag.

"Xiuhe, you have to give this job to your brother."

Wang Xiulan slammed her chopsticks on the table.

"Weidong is about to get married, but he doesn't have a stable job. How can the girl's family possibly approve of him?"

The mud-brick house fell silent instantly.

The kerosene lamp hung on the wall, its flame flickering in the wind, casting an intermittent glow on the faces around the table.

Lin Xiuhe sat on the edge of the kang (a heated brick bed), holding half a cornbread bun in her hand.

She did not speak.

He just stared blankly at the old wooden table in front of him.

A piece was missing from the corner of the table. There was a deep knife mark on the tabletop—left by Lin Weidong when he was a child, when he was randomly hacking with a wood-chopping knife.

She remembers! She remembers everything!

This table, this room, and the words Wang Xiulan just said.

In my past life, it was also this day, and also this night.

Her mother, Wang Xiulan, sat at the table and immediately asked her to give up her job at the supply and marketing cooperative to her younger brother. At that moment, she lowered her head, suppressing her grievances, but finally agreed.

Because her father said they were all family.

Because her mother said, "You are the older sister."

Because Lin Weidong tugged at her sleeve and said, "Sister, I will definitely take care of you in the future."

She believed it.

The results of it?

Lin Xiuhe felt a chill creeping into her heart.

After being let go of his job at the supply and marketing cooperative, Lin Weidong was initially excited for a few days, but later he complained about the hard work and low wages, and started arriving late and leaving early every few days. In less than two years, he lost his secure job.

And what about her? She lost her job, her salary, and the chance to leave this home.

Later, when the college entrance examination was reinstated, she wanted to register. Wang Xiulan burned her textbooks, and Lin Jianguo locked her in a room. Lin Weidong cried and said, "Sister, I'm still young, don't take my opportunity away from me."

So she gave in again.

Later, when her younger brother got married, she paid the bride price; when her younger brother had a baby, she paid for the baby formula; when her nephew went to school, she paid the tuition; and when her parents were sick, she took care of them.

Everyone in the Lin family said she was capable, sensible, and that she had done a good job as an older sister.

But the year she fell ill, she lay on a bench in the hospital corridor, in so much pain that she couldn't even straighten her back. She took out her savings book, and there was only seven dollars and thirty cents left—not even enough to buy a bottle of painkillers.

She called Lin Weidong.

The phone rang for a long time before it was answered.

"Weidong, my sister wants to have surgery. The doctor said if we delay any longer, it will be too late..."

There was a long silence on the other end of the phone, so long that Lin Xiuhe thought he hadn't heard it.

Then she heard her brother lower his voice: "Sis, my family is struggling too. The kids need tutoring, and we have a mortgage to pay. You can't be a burden on me, can you?"

At that moment, Lin Xiuhe suddenly felt no pain.

She just felt cold—as cold as if she had been thrown into an ice cellar.

She served the Lin family her whole life, but in the end, she didn't even have the money to survive.

She died without any relatives by her side.

Only the hospital corridor lights cast a desolate white glow, and there was the seven yuan and thirty cents in the account.

"Xiuhe?"

Wang Xiulan's impatient voice pulled her back from her memories.

Are you deaf?

Lin Xiuhe slowly raised her head.

She saw Wang Xiulan sitting opposite her, her face still bearing that matter-of-fact expression; she saw her father, Lin Jianguo, squatting by the doorway smoking a pipe, his brows furrowed, but he didn't say a word; she also saw Lin Weidong eating with his head down, but his eyes kept glancing at her.

He is waiting.

Wait for her to nod, just like in her past life.

She handed over her job, salary, and future to him.

Lin Xiuhe suddenly wanted to laugh.

snort!

It turns out that once you've died, you really do see many things more clearly.

In her past life, she always thought that as long as she was more accommodating and more tolerant, her family would remember her kindness.

But she later realized that some people don't appreciate kindness; they just think that since you gave in once, you should keep giving in from now on. If you take a step back, they won't be grateful; they'll just push you forward ten steps.

"Your mother is talking to you!" Lin Jianguo tapped his pipe and finally spoke.

"Xiuhe, you're the older sister, and you and Weidong are the only two children in the family. Your brother will be the one to support the family in the future. If you don't help him, who will?"

Wang Xiulan immediately chimed in, "That's right. Besides, you're just a girl; you'll get married sooner or later. What's the use of having a job? Your brother is different—he's the root of the Lin family. If he has a job, he can find a good wife, and then our Lin family will have hope."

Lin Weidong finally put down his bowl.

He looked up, his expression a mixture of embarrassment and understanding: "Sister, I know you got this job through the exam. But I have no choice—the Liu family said they won't consider this marriage if I don't have a stable job. Sister, please help me this once. I'll definitely repay you when I'm settled."

He spoke with utmost sincerity. But his eyes glanced at Wang Xiulan, a tacit understanding between mother and son.

If Lin Xiuhe hadn't already died once, she probably would have been fooled by those words again.

Help me this once? That's what he said in my past life too.

Later, every time he spoke up, it was "just this once"—getting a job was a one-time thing, paying his salary was a one-time thing, paying his bride price was a one-time thing, paying his debts was a one-time thing, and paying his nephew's tuition was also a one-time thing.

Time and time again! In the end, they drained her dry for her entire life.

Lin Xiuhe looked down at her rough hands.

These hands, eighteen years old. The backs of the hands don't yet have the chilblain scars that later became impossible to wash off, and the palms don't have the thick calluses from long hours of manual labor.

She really is back.

We returned to 1977, to the place where fate first took a turn.

If she agrees again this time, she'll really deserve it.

"Xiuhe, don't stay silent." Wang Xiulan frowned. "Tomorrow morning, I'll take you to the commune to complete the formalities. That's settled then."

Lin Xiuhe raised her eyes.

"Who made that decision?"

The room fell silent again.

Wang Xiulan was taken aback: "What did you say?"

Lin Xiuhe put the half-eaten cornbread back on the table, her movements so slow that everyone was watching her.

"I'm asking you, who made that decision?"

Wang Xiulan's face darkened immediately: "Lin Xiuhe, what kind of tone is that?"

Lin Jianguo frowned as well: "How dare you speak to your mother like that?"

Lin Weidong's eyes flickered, and he quickly whispered, "Sister, don't be angry. Mother is only doing this for the good of the family."

"This home?" Lin Xiuhe looked at him. "Lin Weidong, whose home are you talking about?"

Lin Weidong was taken aback by the question: "Of course it's our family."

"Our family?" Lin Xiuhe repeated softly, then laughed. "Then why is it that all the good things are yours? The eggs are yours, the new clothes are yours, the money for school is yours—and now even my job is going to be yours?"