Chapter 1

“Wow, this little lady is really something. And your husband actually leaves you alone at home? Tsk tsk, such a lack of taste.” The fat, big-eared man leered obscenely as he spoke, puckering his lips and leaning toward the woman lying on the ground.

The woman was dressed in a red plaid shirt and gray pants. Though old-fashioned, her outfit couldn’t hide her stunning figure—slim waist, full hips, and especially the pair of ample breasts heaving with her breathing. Her pure, flower-like face, eyes like rippling spring water, and bright red lips were enough to drive any man wild.

Just as the man lunged at her, the woman swiftly grabbed a stone from the ground and smashed it against his head with full force.

Thud—the man collapsed with a puff of dust.

Jiang Ci sat up from the ground, kicked the man a couple of times—no response.

Looking around, she realized she was in a dirt-filled cave. Outside the cave was a lush cornfield. Her clothes were dusty and shabby.

What the hell is going on?

She distinctly remembered that she, a medical PhD, had just been proposed to by her wealthy boyfriend in a romantic setting. It seemed something had collapsed and hit her, and then—here she was, in this godforsaken place.

Suddenly, a sharp pain shot through her head, and a flood of memories surged in.

It turned out Jiang Ci had transmigrated into a 1970s novel as a cannon-fodder character sharing her name. This Jiang Ci was the biological daughter of a factory worker, Jiang Weimin, and a hospital nurse, Li Chunhua, but had been secretly switched at birth by Li Chunhua herself. As a result, she was constantly abused, doing all the dirty and tiring chores in the family.

Fortunately, she was beautiful. While watching a movie, she met a military representative on assignment and they got married.

Later, her husband was reassigned to the border. Jiang Ci, pregnant, stayed at her natal home. Thankfully, he regularly sent living expenses and ration tickets. After giving birth, her in-laws also sent supplies.

Her older sister Jiang Fei, jealous of her good marriage, conspired with the factory director to have Jiang Ci raped.

Jiang Ci wanted to report it to the police.

But her despicable adoptive parents thought it was too shameful and worried about how to explain it to her in-laws. They beat her unconscious, locked her in a cellar, and starved her to death. Then they sold her baby.

The whole family tricked the military husband, lived off the money he sent, and enjoyed a good life. A year later, when he returned, they lied that Jiang Ci had run off with another man and abandoned the child. The man died in an accident on his way back, devastated by the news.

Later, Jiang Fei assumed Jiang Ci’s identity and went to find Jiang Ci’s real parents in the military compound. Not only did she steal their affection, but she also teamed up with the fake daughter to wreak havoc, leading to the downfall of the real Jiang Ci’s biological family—some died, others were imprisoned—while the fake family lived happily ever after.

The novel was an ensemble cast with no clear protagonist, and Jiang Ci’s husband wasn’t even described in detail—just mentioned as having died in an accident.

Jiang Ci was speechless. How much must the author have hated the real daughter’s family to write such infuriating plotlines? Now that she was here, she would never let that tragedy happen. The fake family would taste karmic retribution.

She looked down at the unconscious man. Her eyes fell on a set of keys hanging from his waistband, along with a foldable fruit knife.

A rapist like this—reporting him might be useless without evidence and could backfire. Better to teach him a lesson he’d never forget—make him a eunuch so he’d never harm a woman again.

Jiang Ci picked up the knife, pulled down his pants, and—slash. She sprinkled some dirt on the wound to stop the bleeding, then walked away.

The man had lured the original Jiang Ci to a remote place. After escaping, Jiang Ci walked through the cornfield, took two buses, and finally returned home. On the way, she discovered a mysterious space she now possessed. It was empty, but better than nothing.

The Jiang family lived in a communal apartment. The shared kitchen and washroom were in the hallway. Someone was stewing pig trotters—its rich smell made her nauseous. She opened the door and immediately vomited all over Jiang Fei, who was winding yarn.

Jiang Fei had just bought a new outfit for a blind date. Enraged, she screamed, “Jiang Ci, are you disgusting or what? My new clothes!” She wiped off the vomit with a cloth and yelled at her mother, “Mom, look at her!”

The family of five was crammed into a two-bedroom apartment. The living room was sparse. Li Chunhua, sitting opposite Jiang Fei, was winding yarn too.

Jiang Fei, 25, was short, skinny, with yellowish skin and a pockmarked face. She’d failed numerous blind dates. Today she’d bought a new outfit hoping for a better result—only to be puked on.

Li Chunhua, in her 40s, was actually more attractive than Jiang Fei, but her sharp features and small stature gave her a mean, bitter look.

Disgusting? You’re the disgusting one.

Jiang Ci shot her a glare and went to the washroom. She dry-heaved for a bit, then washed her face and rinsed her mouth. Looking into the mirror, she was surprised to see the original Jiang Ci looked just like her, except a bit thinner, with a beauty mark under one eye and fuller breasts, likely from breastfeeding. She wiped her mouth with a towel.

Jiang Fei stormed in, threw her dirty clothes into the sink, and said, arms crossed, “Wash them.”

Li Chunhua followed, ordering, “Jiang Ci, wash your sister’s clothes.”

Jiang Ci shoved the clothes onto Jiang Fei’s head. “Wash your own damn clothes!”

Jiang Fei, face full of vomit, lunged at her, but Jiang Ci, who had practiced taekwondo in her past life, easily subdued her. “You call me disgusting? Look at the disgusting thing you did!” she shouted, slapping her twice.

Still unsatisfied, Jiang Ci dunked her head in the sink and turned on the tap. Cold water gushed over Jiang Fei’s head. The sink filled quickly as Jiang Ci repeatedly shoved her head under and yanked it back up.

Jiang Fei flailed and choked on water, sobbing loudly.

Li Chunhua shouted, “Jiang Ci! What are you doing? Let her go!”

Jiang Ci yelled back, “Why don’t you ask what your shameless daughter did to me?” She dragged Jiang Fei out, shoved her to the floor, then went to the kitchen, grabbed a knife, and stabbed it into the wooden table with a loud thud. “If Jiang Fei doesn’t confess today, you both get a knife. No one’s leaving.”

This wasn’t the timid Jiang Ci they were used to. She was imposing and fearless. Li Chunhua and Jiang Fei were dumbfounded, especially the guilty Jiang Fei, who clung to her mother. “Mom, just because she married a soldier, she thinks she’s better than us. Now she even dares curse you…”