Soul Returns to Hong Kong: From Tailor Shop to Richest Woman

That very night, after making the pledge, Lin Ying read through Lin Qian's first-year Mathematics textbook from cover to cover.

The next morning, the corridors of Yufa Building were still filled with the aroma of rice porridge being cooked in every household. Before leaving home, Lin Lanying placed two plastic bags on the dining table.

Inside were the complete set of second and third grade textbooks that she had specially asked the shopkeeper next door to buy last night.

"I've bought all the books for you." Lin Lanying, wearing an apron, stood at the door and glanced at her daughter. "Your grandfather will cover the tuition, and I've taken care of the books. I'm going to the shop now. You stay home and study hard."

Lin Ying nodded in agreement. She walked over, untied the plastic bag, took out the books one by one, and stacked them on the old, peeling desk according to subject.

From that day on, Lin Ying's life entered a fixed rhythm.

Every morning, He Dazhu would carry his toolbox out to work, and Lin Lanying would take her to the tailor shop on the commercial street. The sewing machines inside would hum incessantly. Lin Ying would pull up a small stool and sit in a corner, her textbook spread out on her lap, head down, studying for the entire morning. She'd go home for lunch, grab a quick bite, and then go back to the shop in the afternoon.

After dinner, Lin Qian lay on the table, biting a pencil stub as he did his homework, while she spread out her notebook next to him to practice calligraphy.

Since she had nothing better to do, she didn't need to memorize the knowledge points in the book; they were all in her head. Her only weakness was traditional Chinese characters. Traditional characters do indeed have many strokes. The character for "dragon" has over twenty strokes, the character for "study" has sixteen strokes, and even the two commonly used characters for "key" have nearly forty strokes combined.

In my past life, these hands were used to simplified Chinese characters. When I first started writing traditional characters, they always struggled with my brain, unconsciously adding or omitting a horizontal stroke.

Lin Ying set a rule for herself: one hour of calligraphy practice every day, no more, no less. In the first few days, she was slow and her hand was clumsy; it would take her more than twenty minutes to finish a page of grid paper. When she encountered characters with many strokes, she broke them down to memorize them, first memorizing the radicals, and then the overall structure.

This brain has a quick memory, and after adapting to the writing logic of traditional Chinese characters, her hand speed improved. Two weeks later, she could recite all the new characters in her first and second grade Chinese textbooks. Writing traditional characters had become very natural for her.

By the end of June, Hong Kong's summer was very hot and humid.

These past few days, Lin Qian's home in Yu Fa Building has been rather quiet. Lin Qian's school has entered its final exam week. The rules of government-run primary schools are strict; students stay at school all day during the exam period, eat lunch in the school cafeteria, and then continue taking exams in the afternoon.

Lin Lanying gets up before dawn every day to prepare breakfast and lunch money for Lin Qian, giving him a long list of instructions on not being careless and not making spelling mistakes in his compositions. Then she rushes to the shop to finish her work, since her child is going to attend a private primary school and she needs to save more money.

He Dazhu was even busier. A new building in Xihuan needed furniture made, and the boss was pushing for the construction schedule like crazy. For several days in a row, he left early and returned late. Every night when he got home, he would take a cold shower and fall asleep immediately.

As a result, Lin Ying was left alone at home during the day.

That evening, Lin Lanying closed her shop, carrying a bunch of greens and two pieces of tofu, and pushed open the door. As soon as she entered, she saw Lin Ying hunched over the square table, with a third-grade English textbook spread out in front of her, a pencil in her hand, scribbling words in her exercise book.

"Little sister, are you hungry? Mommy will cook first." Lin Lanying put the vegetables into the kitchen and tightened the apron strap around her waist.

"Mom," Lin Ying put down her pen, "I want to stay with Grandpa and Grandma for a few days."

Lin Lanying turned to look at her daughter suspiciously: "Why do you suddenly want to go back?"

"I miss my grandparents," Lin Ying said honestly. "Besides, I've been the only one at home these past few days. You and Lao Dou are so busy that I hardly ever see you, and my younger brother is at school too. The neighbors in the apartment building are playing mahjong and watching TV during the day, which is too loud. It's quiet back home, so I can concentrate on studying and preparing for my exams."

"I'm worried about you being all alone in the countryside..." Lin Lanying subconsciously refused.

"Grandpa and Grandma are watching over me. I'm not a three-year-old anymore; I can read books by myself."

Lin Lanying thought about it and agreed; her hometown in the countryside was quiet and peaceful, without the noise of the commercial street, and the old lady doted on her granddaughter, so she would definitely take better care of her three meals a day than she did.

"Okay. I'll call your grandma at the street corner tomorrow and tell her. I'll have your dad take half a day off on Monday to take you there."

Monday morning.

He Dazhu specially asked the contractor for half a day off, took Lin Ying's clothes and belongings, and led Lin Ying out the door.

Lin Ying carried a small schoolbag made of floral fabric on her back. It was specially sewn for her by Lin Lanying a few days ago using scraps of fabric from the shop. The stitches were fine and solid, and there was a layer of stiff fabric inside to support the shape, so it wouldn't collapse when carried.

His schoolbag was bulging with second and third grade Chinese textbooks, Mathematics textbooks, and General Studies textbooks, two sharpened pencils, an eraser, and several exercise books that He Dazhu had specially bought from the stationery store.

The red-topped minibus departed from the city center and swayed along the way towards the New Territories.

He Dazhu sat next to Lin Ying and turned to look at his daughter; the little girl had her English textbook spread out on her lap, silently pointing to the words one by one with her little finger, not even glancing at the scenery along the way.

"Little sister, you must be a good girl and listen to your grandparents in the countryside," He Dazhu instructed. "Don't work too hard, your health is important, you know? If you get tired, take a break and go for a run by the pond outside."

"Understood, Lao Dou." Lin Ying didn't even look up, her eyes still on the pages of the book.

Looking at his daughter's serious profile, He Dazhu felt both proud and heartbroken.

The minibus screeched to a halt at the village entrance, and from afar, Li Yuzhen could be seen standing under the old banyan tree, looking around. As soon as she saw her granddaughter get out of the bus, the old lady jogged over with small steps.

"Oh my darling! Come, come, Grandma has made chicken soup for you!" Li Yuzhen grabbed Lin Ying's hand.

He Dazhu handed Lin Ying to the old lady and then told the child, "Little sister, Lao Dou has gone back to work. He'll come pick you up this weekend."

"Okay." Lin Ying waved to him.

He Dazhu stood there, watching the old man and the child walk away along the cement road, before turning around and heading to the opposite street corner to catch the bus back.

Life in the countryside is so much quieter than in the city.

Lin Ying had a regular daily routine. She would get up at 6:30 every morning, have morning tea and breakfast with Li Yuzhen, and then go back to her east wing room to read. She would rest for half an hour at noon and continue reading in the afternoon. Before it got completely dark in the evening, she would close her books and go for a walk around the village's feng shui pond to stretch her growing body.

Grandpa Lin Fu didn't pay much attention to her at first, thinking that his granddaughter had just recovered from an illness and that children's enthusiasm for novelty only lasts for a short time. He thought she would get tired of reading books after a couple of days and go catch loaches instead.

Three days passed, and the girl remained sitting firmly in her room.

On the afternoon of the fourth day, Lin Fu woke up from his nap and carried a purple clay teapot past Lin Ying's room. He stopped and peeked through the half-open wooden door.

The little girl sat at her desk by the window, her back ramrod straight, a pencil in her hand, writing English words neatly in her notebook. After finishing a line, she would turn to a page in her textbook to check, her lips moving slightly as she silently memorized them.