019 Adapting to the Environment

Hu Xiaomei finally appeared. “It seems you’ve all adapted well to your new lives.”

Jin Coral caught sight of her. “So, you’ve finished cultivating? How is it—did you manage to hide your fox ears?”

Indeed, Hu Xiaomei’s fox ears were now gone. Yet she seemed even more alluring than before; the slight upward tilt at the corners of her eyes naturally exuded a charm, even without any intention. It was no wonder so many were bewitched by fox spirits. Even at her age, not yet fully grown, Hu Xiaomei radiated an enchanting appeal—it was clear that the fox clan’s seduction was innate.

Hu Xiaomei touched her head. “Yes, my ears are hidden now. These past few days weren’t wasted.” Then she added, “Apart from the fact that I’m not human, I can accept everything else about myself.”

Jin Coral listened with envy. “At least you have whatever you want. I have nothing, really. I suppose the only good thing is that I’ve just evolved into a human, so my thinking is rather simple—or, to put it bluntly, foolish. Maybe that’s why I’m starting to adapt. I was always called stubborn before, but here, that counts as being shrewd, so I can at least protect myself.

“And after all, this is a primitive society, full of untouched plants to study. I even used friction to make fire and found a fire source for the tribe. Now everyone treats me as a shamaness.”

Jin Coral couldn’t change the way people here thought, but to become their shamaness was already quite an achievement.

Everyone understood that, having landed in this time and place, there was no going back. If you can’t change or accept your circumstances, what then? People cannot be crushed by their environment forever. If the environment won’t adapt to us, then we must adapt to it.

It had to be admitted: both Jin Coral and Hu Xiaomei, for all their countless complaints, were striving to adjust.

Xie Yihuang remained silent, listening as the others chatted about different topics, choosing not to participate for now.

In truth, she was probably the only one not really making an effort to adapt. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have felt the need to announce her return to school.

It was only elementary school coursework—no matter how poor a student she'd been in her past life, she’d hardly fail at this. But the real issue was accepting that she’d gone from thirty years old back to eight in an instant.

They say you can’t turn back time, but here she was, forced to start over—though this new beginning had never been part of her plan.

Yet since it had begun, she should cherish it. Even if she had no idea what the future held, at the very least, she had to try to fit in, not simply idle her days away in this era.

With this thought, Xie Yihuang felt a weight lift from her heart. The truth was, she’d been resisting reality all along. Even Hu Xiaomei, reborn as a fox, hadn’t given in to despair—so she had no right to let herself down.

Starting over wasn’t so bad. Xie Yihuang believed she could handle it.

The next day, Xie Yihuang set off for school, a satchel slung over her shoulder.

Primary school bags these days were nothing like the ones in the future. They were mostly simple canvas slings, and hers was green, without any decoration. Most children had similar bags.

To set hers apart, her mother had stayed up late to embroider a little red bird in the lower right corner.

Many children preferred green—after all, to them, it was the color of soldiers. Possessing a green satchel brought great joy, and everyone would personalize theirs with some distinguishing mark.

Xie Yihuang wasn’t picky. There wasn’t much to choose from anyway; her siblings Xie Yuanfeng and Xie Yunfeng both had the same style and color, just with different motifs—Yuanfeng’s was a morning glory, Yunfeng’s a small mountain.

Inside, there was nothing but a pencil case and a writing board for support.

No need to bring notebooks, since on the first day, the school would hand out textbooks and exercise books. Most students used whatever the school provided; there was no need to buy their own.

Xie Yihuang was assigned to Class 101. Because she was shorter, she sat in the front row. The books distributed included one math textbook, one language textbook, two grid notebooks, two pinyin workbooks, and two math exercise books—nothing more.

Civics lessons wouldn’t start until second grade, and music required no textbook; the teacher would play the piano and teach them to sing. As for sports, they simply went outside and played in the open. So, for now, students only had math and language books—hardly a burden at all.

Xie Yihuang ran her fingers lightly over the covers. In the future, these books would be insignificant, but now, they were a primary schooler’s most precious possession.

The first lesson was math. It began with the basics—the numbers zero through nine. That day, they learned only how to write 0 and 1. Forty minutes on just two digits. Xie Yihuang suddenly wondered if she ought to skip a grade; if she kept sitting like this, she might just develop depression.

During the break, she quickly flipped through the semester’s math book—it was all basic addition and subtraction. The language textbook was just pinyin and simple characters.

Indeed, children here truly started from scratch. There was no preschool preparation, and no compulsory education. Every family had to pay for tuition and books, perhaps making each child all the more diligent, even with something as simple as numbers and phonetics.

But Xie Yihuang knew her own tuition and book fees were not expensive—just one yuan and twenty cents in total.

She pondered—should she try skipping a grade?

The idea lingered all the way home, until she reached the Qi household.

Grandpa Qi saw her listlessly finishing her homework and asked casually, “What’s troubling a child like you that you’re frowning already?”

Xie Yihuang looked at him, struck by the thought that since she was now a child, it only made sense to turn to an experienced elder for advice. “Grandpa,” she said, “the first-grade lessons are way too easy. I peeked at everything during the break and already remember it all. I’m thinking… maybe I should try skipping a grade.”