Hiss—
It hurt.
Her head felt ready to split open, the agonizing throbs nearly driving Jiang Ning to tears. She truly would have wept if there weren’t two men in the room who wanted her dead.
Lying prone on the ground, loose hair veiled Jiang Ning’s face and concealed her opening eyes. Her right eye burned with a wet, stinging heat, the view dyed crimson—blood had clearly seeped into it. Relying only on her left eye to take in her surroundings, she could see nothing more than the legs and feet of two men.
They wore black trousers made of some coarse, filthy fabric, patched at the knees. Even their cloth shoes bore small, neat patches.
Glancing around the room, she saw a plain wooden bed thoroughly ransacked by the pair, an old, dilapidated wardrobe of indeterminate vintage, and an enamel basin stamped with a red double-happiness character sitting on the floor.
Heavens, where on earth am I?
She had been working on design drafts at home, dozing off at her desk when fatigue overtook her. How had she woken up in a place like this?
Before she could piece it together, another piercing pang struck her skull, and an overwhelming flood of unfamiliar memories surged into her mind.
“Dad, I found it!” a young voice cried in delight. “Tucked right into the crack under the bedboards!”
An older man spat. “Damn woman sure knew how to hide it.”
Shoving the cash and food coupons into his waistband, he waved to his son. “Let’s move. Watch out on the way out—don’t let anyone see us leaving Jiang Ning’s place. The last thing we need is doing all this work just to end up in jail.”
“Got it, Dad!”
The pair scrambled out, stepping right over Jiang Ning where she lay on the floor.
As her senses slowly returned, the reality of her situation hit her.
She had transmigrated into a book—a period novel she had finished reading just a couple of days ago.
The original host shared her name, Jiang Ning, but was far from being the main character. She was merely an unlucky cannon fodder who died the moment she was introduced. Her husband had served in the same military regiment as the male lead. During a mission, he took a bullet for the lead and succumbed to his wounds two days later. On his deathbed, he entrusted his five-month-pregnant wife to the lead’s care.
When the male lead traveled all those miles to fulfill his promise, he arrived just in time to cross paths with her second uncle and cousin—the very men who killed her and robbed her of her money and rations.
By the time the male lead subdued them and stepped inside, the original owner had already breathed her last.
Reading that part had infuriated Jiang Ning. Having a cannon fodder character share her exact name only to die right at the start had thoroughly disgusted her. Yet, cursing through every chapter, she had still managed to finish the novel.
“Ouch! Who the hell are you?!”
“Dad, save me!”
Outside came the cries of the original host’s cousin-in-law, Zhou Guang. He was the youngest son of Second Uncle Zhou Dewang.
Having set his sights on the daughter of the neighboring production team’s brigade leader—who demanded a hefty bride price of one hundred yuan—and with the family’s savings already drained by the eldest son’s wedding, Zhou Guang and his father had set their greedy sights on the original host.
“Aaargh! Mother of God, that hurts!” Zhou Dewang’s voice cracked in a shrill screech.
A chaotic clamor followed, sounding as if a crowd had just barged into the courtyard.
Jiang Ning’s head spun as her vision blurred. Through the haze, a dark silhouette loomed over her. A powerful hand cradled the nape of her neck while another arm scooped beneath her knees. In an instant, she was swept up and carried out of the room.
The midday sun hit her face, forcing her eyes into a squint against the sudden glare.
Her weak, half-closed eyes caught the sharp lines of a man’s jaw, then his prominent Adam’s apple, his broad shoulders, and finally the striking military green of his uniform.
As her heavy eyelids drifted shut, she heard him say, “Sister-in-law, hang in there. Don’t fall asleep—we’re almost at the clinic.”
Jiang Ning’s fading mind rebelled.
I will sleep.
Maybe when she woke up, she would be back in her own world.
Ahead of them, the brigade leader ran as fast as his legs would carry him, wiping cold sweat from his forehead.
Just that morning, he had gone to the commune and taken a call from the military with news of Zhou Du’s death in the line of duty. He had been agonizing over how to break it to a heavily pregnant Jiang Ning, terrified the shock might harm her or the baby. Who could have imagined that Zhou Dewang and his son would hurt her that very afternoon?
If this soldier hadn’t arrived in time, she might have died in her own home without anyone knowing.
Eldest Brother Zhou and his wife had passed away years ago, leaving Old Master Zhou to raise Zhou Du on his own. Then the old man had died two years back, leaving Zhou Du as the family’s sole branch. Now that Zhou Du was gone, too, the child in Jiang Ning’s belly was the only bloodline left.
If anything happened to her, Eldest Brother Zhou’s lineage would be extinguished forever.
***
Jiang Ning had no idea how long she had slept. When she opened her eyes, she hoped to find herself back in her own home, but instead she was met with a vintage IV stand and a glass infusion bottle.
Refusing to believe it, she looked around the room again.
It was an old brick house typical of the 1960s, its walls spiderwebbed with cracks, complete with a rickety wooden bed.
Despair washed over Jiang Ning, and she shut her eyes.
It was over.
She hadn’t traveled back; she was still stuck here.
Throbs of pain pulsed through her forehead. An unfamiliar voice broke the quiet: “Zhou Du’s wife, you’re awake?”
Opening her eyes, Jiang Ning saw an elderly woman beside the bed. It was Old Madam Wang from next door. The Wangs were kindhearted folk who had looked after the original host of this body quite often.
Jiang Ning gave a soft hum of acknowledgment. “Grandma Wang.”
Old Madam Wang let out a long breath of relief. She had stayed by the girl’s side ever since she fainted, praying nothing terrible would happen to her. Heaven had been merciful enough to let her wake up.
“How are you feeling? Does your head still hurt?” the old lady asked with concern.
“Much better,” Jiang Ning replied weakly.
Jiang Ning glanced at Old Madam Wang, who wore a heavily patched black jacket with side fasteners. Her white hair was neatly combed back into a bun, and a warm, kindly smile softened her deeply wrinkled face.
Jiang Ning recalled that in the novel, the year was 1967—the second year of the ten-year turmoil. It was an era dominated by ration coupons and work points, a time of pervasive scarcity when people struggled to stay fed and clothed.
Traveling anywhere without a letter of introduction was impossible; venturing into a county seat or city without one meant risking arrest as an undocumented vagrant and being sent off to a labor camp.
Yet of all places and times, this was precisely where she had landed.
To make matters worse, she had transmigrated into the body of a pregnant widow whose husband had just died.
Beside her, Old Madam Wang said, “Lass, thank goodness your late husband’s comrade arrived in time. Otherwise, things would’ve turned out terrible. The brigade leader and that soldier took Zhou Dewang and his son straight to the police station.”
She glanced out at the sun. “By this hour, they should be back any minute.”
Right on cue, the brigade leader’s booming voice carried in from outside. “Auntie Wang, is Zhou Du’s wife awake?”
“Speak of the devil,” Old Madam Wang told the brigade leader as he stepped inside. “She woke up just a moment ago.”
Jiang Ning turned her head toward the door. The brigade leader and his wife entered first, followed by a man in a military uniform. Tall and broad-shouldered, he had neat, short hair and handsome features. Even with the brigade leader walking in front of him, his imposing frame was impossible to miss.
His dark eyes locked onto hers as he approached the bedside. “Sister-in-law, how are you feeling?” he asked in a low voice.
“A bit better,” Jiang Ning replied, Feigning confusion. “And you are?”
“I’m He Zheng. Brother Zhou and I were comrades—”
Before He Zheng could finish, the brigade leader’s wife cut in, launching into a rant about the wicked things Zhou Dewang and his son had done. Both had already been hauled off to the police station. Once the verdict came down in a few days, they would be shipped straight to a labor camp. From what the public security officers said, they were looking at a minimum of ten years.
She finished with a scornful huff. “Wanted to get a wife, did he? He can marry someone in the labor camp for all I care!”
What a pack of black-hearted beasts. Just to get their son a wife, they had targeted Zhou Du’s wife and nearly killed her and the unborn baby. Zhou Du had sacrificed his life, making that child the Zhou family’s sole remaining heir. Back then, the elder Zhous should never have pulled Zhou the Second’s family from that collapsed house.
Look at what came of it—the couple had given their lives only to rescue an ungrateful pack of wolves.
The brigade leader’s wife pressed the money Zhou Dewang and his son had stolen back into Jiang Ning’s hands, telling her to rest well. She promised to cook dinner and bring it over for her and He Zheng before pulling the soldier aside.
Glancing furtively at Jiang Ning’s pale face, she lowered her voice. “Comrade, let’s wait until after dinner to tell her about Zhou Du. She just woke up, hasn’t eaten, and is still so weak. If she hears he’s gone, she might faint again, and that would be dangerous.”
He Zheng looked toward Jiang Ning on the bed, his voice rough. “All right.”
Once the brigade leader, his wife, and Old Madam Wang left, only Jiang Ning and He Zheng remained in the clinic’s sparse ward.
The man walked up to the bed, his gaze lingering on the gauze wrapped around her forehead.
Her face was tiny and gaunt. Even at five months pregnant, she had felt weightless in his arms.
A lingering terror still gripped He Zheng’s chest. He had arrived just in time; any later, and both she and the unborn child would have been gone. He already owed Zhou Du a debt he could never repay. If anything happened to his wife and child, He Zheng wouldn’t have the face to meet their family of three even in death.
A pair of soft coughs broke the quiet of the ward, pulling him from his thoughts.
Blinking back the burning sting in his eyes, he said, “Let me get you some water, Sister-in-law.”
He found a cup, poured some warm water, and looked back at Jiang Ning lying on the bed before setting it on the table.
“Sister-in-law,” he called softly.
Jiang Ning looked at him. “Yes?”
“Pardon the offense,” he said apologetically.
Before she could process what he meant, he bent toward her.
In the sweltering summer heat, his proximity brought a distinct wave of warmth. His long, calloused fingers cupped her frail shoulder to lift her slightly, while his other arm slid behind the nape of her neck to help her sit up.
Only then did Jiang Ning realize what he had meant.