Revenge of the Resilient Girl for the 70s

The old, weathered door curtain fluttered in the wind, lifting its edges.

The kitchen was steaming, filled with the rich aroma of meat.

Flames licked the edges of the pan as chunks of pork belly sizzled and browned, releasing fragrant oil.

Diced mushrooms and minced garlic were sprinkled in and stir-fried a few more times, intensifying the mouth-watering smell.

Two girls with braided pigtails lifted the gray cloth curtain, instantly enveloped by the savory scent.

They couldn't help it; their tongues were tantalized, and saliva pooled in their mouths.

The girl with shorter braids asked, "Summer, what are you making this time?"

Whenever Summer was busy in the kitchen, it was always filled with delicious, tantalizing aromas.

Standing by the stove, Summer carefully poured a pre-mixed sauce into the pan with the sizzling pork, turning to smile lightly, "I'm making Zhajiangmian."

The girl with longer braids swallowed, "You even brought sauce from home?"

Summer circled around to add wood to the fire, simmering the sauce over low heat. "Yes, Henry loves my Zhajiangmian, so I brought some with me."

The two girls, drawn by the enticing aroma, wanted to get closer to the kitchen.

But they knew it would be more torturous to see but not eat, so they resisted the urge to go in.

After exchanging a few more words with Summer, they left the curtain and walked away, still craving.

Summer's attention was entirely on her cooking. She finished making the meat sauce, washed the pan, added more wood, and boiled a pot of water to blanch the pre-cut cabbage and carrot strips, removing their rawness before cooking the noodles.

She scooped the cooked noodles into a large porcelain bowl decorated with red flowers and green leaves.

Amidst the rising steam, she added the blanched cabbage and carrot strips, then poured the freshly made meat sauce on the side. A bowl of colorful, aromatic Zhajiangmian was ready.

Summer leaned in to take a gentle sniff, her eyes and mouth curving into a bright smile.

She thought to herself—so fragrant, Henry would surely love it.

A sense of happiness bubbled within her heart.

Suddenly, a rumble of thunder sounded outside, seeming to roll right over the roof.

Summer glanced out the window.

The setting sun still hung in the sky, and it didn't look like it was going to rain.

But she remembered the locals telling them today was the Waking of Insects festival.

This festival marked the time when spring thunder awakened nature.

Summer wasn't particularly interested in these solar terms.

She sat by the table, eagerly waiting for Henry to return.

As happiness filled her heart again, another thunderclap boomed over the roof.

This time, the thunder was different. After a couple of rumbles, it suddenly exploded.

Summer was startled, too shocked to react. Then another bolt of lightning seemed to strike right at her head, leaving her stunned.

Her whole body felt numb, her mind went blank.

After a moment of blankness, a flood of strange information surged into her brain.

The pain was excruciating, as if each nerve was experiencing a life-or-death struggle.

She wanted to scream but couldn't make a sound.

She didn't know how much time had passed when she heard someone calling her, "Summer."

The voice started as an ethereal whisper, then became clearer.

Finally, it was so clear it was right beside her ear, pulling her back to reality.

The caller was the person she was waiting for—Henry.

She didn't know when he had returned, but he was now sitting opposite her, reaching for the large porcelain bowl in her hand, looking at her and asking, "What are you thinking about?"

Summer stared at Henry, her heart still pounding with shock.

Each heartbeat felt heavy, shaking her whole body.

She blinked at Henry and quickly withdrew her hand.

As she pulled back, she also took the bowl of Zhajiangmian with her.

Her fingers suddenly empty, Henry was momentarily stunned.

Before he could react, Summer was already running out of the kitchen with the bowl and chopsticks.

Henry: "?"

What's gotten into this girl all of a sudden?

The lingering scent of Zhajiangmian still filled his nose as he blinked at the fluttering door curtain.

***

Summer hurried out of the fenced yard with the bowl.

She didn't stop until she reached a secluded spot by the river.

Her head no longer hurt, but it was extremely confused, as if it had been entirely reorganized.

She sat down on a rock by the river, lowered her head, and closed her eyes.

Holding the porcelain bowl in one hand, trembling slightly, she pressed her other hand to her chest, trying to calm her racing heart.

She didn't know exactly what had happened after the thunder, only that a lot of bizarre and strange information had filled her mind.

And unlike dreams, which faded upon waking, this information became clearer the more awake she was.

After taking one last deep breath, she lifted her head.

She seemed to be herself, yet not quite.

The explosion of information in her mind told her that the world she lived in was actually a novel, a male protagonist-centric novel.

The novel's protagonist was her childhood crush and neighbor—Henry.

And she was not the heroine of this story, but a supporting character designed to enrich and complete the protagonist's life, a lovesick girl with no thoughts of her own.

Henry, as the male lead, had the most exciting and colorful life.

He spent his youth in carefree abandon, had a pure and innocent first love during his school years, and after breaking up with his first love upon graduation, he experienced a passionate, entangled, and heart-wrenching love during his time in the countryside. In the tides of the era, he tasted the bittersweet flavors of love.

After burning through his youth and passion, Henry finally settled down, and she, as the lovesick supporting character, remained waiting for him under the gray eaves of the courtyard.

At this point, Henry was moved by her devotion and married her.

After marriage, Henry no longer indulged in romantic entanglements and focused on building a career. She sold her family's small restaurant and courtyard to support his startup.

Later, Henry's career flourished, and he was often busy away from home.

She became a full-time housewife, staying at home alone, taking care of Henry's parents, and even raising Henry's illegitimate child from his past love.

As the information pieced together, Summer could no longer suppress her disgust.

Before this, her life's goal was indeed to marry Henry, and achieving this goal was her greatest fulfillment and happiness.

But at this moment, she felt an overwhelming sense of repulsion.

Perhaps it was those thunderbolts that woke her up.

Now, whether reflecting on her life or thinking about her role in the novel, she felt like a mindless shell.

Another rumble of thunder rolled overhead.

Summer, now sensitive to the sound, snapped back to reality.

As she came to her senses, she heard the croaking of frogs around her.

The last rays of the setting sun disappeared among the reeds, and the frogs' croaks summoned the chirping of insects. Listening to these sounds, Summer felt a real sense of "all things reviving."

This feeling was new and wonderful to her because she had never paid attention to anything other than Henry, nor had she experienced such a sense of renewal.

After the frog and insect chorus, she smelled the fragrant Zhajiangmian in her porcelain bowl.

Now, looking at the bowl of noodles and smelling the meat sauce, she thought not of Henry's delight in eating them, but of her own growling stomach.

Her empty stomach growled.

Summer swallowed, picked up the chopsticks with her right hand, raised the bowl to her face, and mixed the noodles, meat sauce, cabbage, and carrot strips.

As soon as she mixed it, she couldn't resist.

She took a big bite of the noodles.

As soon as she chewed and swallowed, her eyes lit up.

The chewy noodles mixed with the savory meat sauce, cabbage, and carrots satisfied her taste buds, filling her with a great sense of contentment and happiness.

This feeling shocked Summer.

It wasn't that she hadn't eaten delicious food before, but it was the first time she felt such strong satisfaction and happiness from eating.

This feeling was something she had never experienced before.

She always loved experimenting with food, but she had never felt happy and satisfied from eating something delicious.

Only when Henry enjoyed her cooking and gave her a thumbs-up did she feel happy and find her efforts meaningful.