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

"Some people, if you take a step back, they will take ten steps forward."

Zhou Zhiyuan is gone.

The office returned to silence.

But Lin Xiuhe stood there, unable to come to her senses for a long time.

She knew that phrase all too well. So well that it made her heart clench.

During the years she spent in the hospital in her previous life, she wondered countless times why she had ended up in that situation.

Later I finally understood—it wasn't because she was unlucky, but because she retreated too much.

Quitting your job, quitting opportunities, quitting your future. In the end, you might even lose your life.

Just now, Zhou Zhiyuan said almost the same thing.

Coincidence?

Lin Xiuhe frowned. But before she could think about it further, Director Zhao slammed his hand on the table: "Alright, the matter is resolved. Get back to work, there's still stock to be inventoried this afternoon."

The people in the office dispersed.

Lin Xiuhe also snapped out of her thoughts and began to organize the order forms.

She just didn't notice.

At the end of the corridor outside the door, Zhou Zhiyuan stood by the window and quietly glanced at the office through the glass.

Then he looked away, his expression calm.

No one knew that the moment he saw Wang Xiulan rush in, he remembered his past life—that winter, and the person he never managed to save.

A moment later, he turned and left.

It was as if nothing had happened.

In the afternoon, the supply and marketing cooperative resumed normal operations.

More and more people came to buy things. Some bought matches, some bought needles and thread, and some even came specifically to see the new sales clerk.

"Is this the Lin family's daughter?"

"I heard she really upset her mother yesterday."

"You're so promising. I wouldn't give it to you either."

Whispers could be heard from time to time.

Lin Xiuhe didn't respond; she just diligently kept the accounts and took inventory.

She discovered that she actually quite liked this feeling—not having to guess other people's expressions, not having to think about how to please anyone, and just having to do her own thing was enough.

In the evening, the workday ended.

Director Zhao locked the counter: "Alright, everyone go back now."

Everyone started packing their things.

Just then, accountant Lao Liu suddenly came over with the ledger: "Xiuhe, wait a minute."

"What is it?"

"You haven't collected your salary for this month."

Lin Xiuhe was taken aback.

Salary? She almost forgot. Today was the end of the month, and the supply and marketing cooperative was distributing salaries.

Old Liu opened the account book and took out a brown paper envelope from the drawer: "Twenty-four yuan, count it."

The air suddenly went quiet for a moment. Several people in the office looked over.

For them, twenty-four yuan a month was nothing. But for some reason, everyone felt that this moment was very important to Lin Xiuhe.

Lin Xiuhe slowly took the envelope.

It's very light, yet very heavy.

She opened it, and inside were several banknotes neatly arranged—twenty-four yuan, not a penny less.

In her past life, this salary never truly belonged to her. It was paid out, given to Wang Xiulan, and then disappeared. As for where it went, no one knew. And she was always left with only a few cents.

Thinking of this, Lin Xiuhe's fingertips tightened slightly.

"Thank you, Uncle Liu." The voice was soft, but more earnest than ever.

Old Liu was stunned for a moment, then waved his hand: "What are you thanking me for? You earned this."

You earned it.

As soon as the four words were spoken, Lin Xiuhe suddenly felt a lump in her throat.

Yes, she earned it. It wasn't from the Lin family, nor from Lin Weidong, and it wasn't given to her by anyone—it was her own.

After get off work, she carefully put her wages on her person and walked home.

The setting sun bathed the dirt road in gold, and the wind rustled through the cornfield.

She suddenly remembered the last savings account from her past life—seven dollars and thirty cents.

At that time, she couldn't understand why she had lived such a life after working so hard all her life.

And now, she finally understands.

Because she has never lived for herself.

Thinking of this, she reached into her pocket and tightly gripped the twenty-four yuan.

This time, she won't hand it over.

It's no use who comes.

As darkness fell, the Lin family's courtyard came into view.

But before she got close, she heard arguing coming from inside.

"I don't believe it!" It was Wang Xiulan, her voice urgent and shrill. "She couldn't possibly refuse to give it to me! I'm her mother! She dares to refuse and just try!"

Lin Xiuhe paused for a moment.

Then he laughed.

It seems there are still some people who haven't given up.

She pushed open the courtyard gate.

The courtyard fell silent instantly.

Wang Xiulan suddenly turned her head.

At first glance, I didn't look at her—but at her pockets.

To be precise, it's wages.

At that moment, Lin Xiuhe suddenly understood why Wang Xiulan had been waiting at home all day.

She wasn't waiting for her daughter.

She was waiting for money.

"You're back?" Wang Xiulan forced a smile, a smile so stiff it was frightening. "Did you get paid today?"

The courtyard was so quiet that only the sound of the wind could be heard.

Lin Jianguo sat at the door smoking, while Lin Weidong lowered his head but secretly pricked up his ears.

Everyone was waiting for her answer.

In her past life, she would voluntarily take out her salary at this time every month, without needing anyone to remind her.

But not in this life.

Lin Xiuhe looked at them and slowly said, "It's been distributed."

Wang Xiulan's eyes lit up immediately: "That's good. Give it to me quickly, we're short of money at home."

The air grew quiet.

Lin Xiuhe stood there and suddenly smiled.

Then, in front of everyone, she put the twenty-four yuan back into her pocket.

He said, word by word, "I keep my own salary."

Wang Xiulan's smile froze instantly.