Chapter 1

1974, on a green train traveling from Harbin to Beijing.

It was nearing the New Year, and the train was packed with passengers of all kinds, shoulder to shoulder in the crowded carriages.

Xin Qi sat by the window, her thoughts in turmoil.

No one could’ve guessed that this seemingly frail girl—who had been asleep since boarding—had just changed souls.

She should have been enjoying her vacation in a first-class cabin, but fate had other plans: a tragic plane crash, the aircraft destroyed, everyone presumed dead.

She thought she was gone for good—until she opened her eyes again and found herself in the 1970s, in the body of a girl also named Xin Qi, a returned educated youth with no household registration, no job, and no future.

Fortunately, she had inherited all of the original Xin Qi’s memories and quickly grasped the grim situation.

Xin Qi had been born in Beijing to working-class parents with five children. She was the fourth child—an older brother, two elder sisters, and one younger brother.

After junior high, she volunteered to go to the countryside as part of the state campaign. She had been working in a village near Harbin for six years. This was her first trip home.

To get this leave, she had gone to extremes—bathing in freezing water during winter, standing outside in thin clothes at night—pushing herself to the brink of collapse. Eventually, she managed to get a forged certificate for pneumonia. Fearing it might turn fatal, local officials reluctantly approved her medical leave to return to Beijing for treatment.

Xin Qi thought her plan had worked. But in her effort to appear gravely ill, she had refused all medication and injections. The virus hit hard, and she died from her own scheme.

Just as she finally boarded the train home, her frail body gave out. She died quietly by the window amidst the noisy crowd.

And that’s when this Xin Qi arrived in this unfamiliar world.

Still dazed, she forced herself to the washbasin and splashed cold water on her face to stay alert.

On her way back, a commotion erupted in the next carriage.

“Thief! Catch the thief!” someone shouted.

In an instant, a tall man dashed toward her from the chaos ahead.

Xin Qi was the only one in the narrow aisle. Before she could react, the man seized her and pressed a small blade to her neck.

She was taken hostage, forced to step backward slowly. No one dared approach—some passengers even hid under tables.

Two train police officers rushed over but maintained a cautious distance.

“Don’t do anything rash! Let the girl go!” they pleaded.

The thief cursed and waved his blade menacingly. Overwhelmed and tense, his hand trembled, slicing a shallow cut across Xin Qi’s neck.

Xin Qi cursed inwardly. Could her luck be any worse? First, she narrowly escaped death by illness, and now she was on the verge of being killed in a hostage situation.

Still wanting to survive, she calmly told the man, “Don’t be stupid. Robbery and murder carry very different sentences.”

Just then, the train began slowing as it approached a small rural station. Outside were open fields, and once the train stopped, the thief could easily escape into the farmland.

He continued backing toward the sleeper car. If he made it past the next door, he could jump and run.

But just as they passed a closed sleeper compartment, the door flung open. A man in military uniform stood there.

The thief froze, clearly terrified to see a soldier on board. His grip faltered again, and Xin Qi felt a second nick on her neck.

She gasped softly in pain.

The soldier didn’t hesitate. With swift precision, he slid an arm under the thief’s elbow, dislodged the knife from Xin Qi’s neck, grabbed the man’s arm, and twisted it hard behind his back—crack—dislocating it on the spot.

The thief screamed in pain and dropped the knife. Only then did the train police finally step in to subdue him.

Applause erupted in the carriage for the brave soldier.

But Xin Qi didn’t get to enjoy the touching moment. The stress overwhelmed her, and she fainted.

Her final memory was falling into the warmth of a sturdy military uniform.

When Xin Qi opened her eyes again, she was lying in a hospital bed with an IV in her arm.

The ward was simple and empty. She was alone.

She touched her neck—the wounds had been cleaned and treated.

Xin Qi frowned. She had no idea where she was. She was a victim, after all. Had they really just dumped her in a hospital and left?

As her mind spiraled with questions, the door opened, and a tall, upright man in military uniform walked in.

Xin Qi’s eyes lit up. The sight of the uniform gave her a sense of safety.

“Comrade, thank you. If it weren’t for you, I’d be dead,” she said, sitting up to thank him.

After all, this man had saved her life. He was her benefactor, and right now, he was the only familiar face she had in this strange era.

It was a cautious time. Not knowing if she had slipped up while unconscious, she deliberately acted weak to maintain her cover as a sickly returning youth.

The man hesitated. “I’m not… uh, I’m here looking for someone—”

Before he could finish, another man in uniform entered the room, holding a few medical reports and a bag of pills.

He was around 6’1” (185 cm), with sharp features, thick eyebrows, and a chiseled jawline—exactly the kind of man who matched the beauty standards of the 1970s.

Two soldiers, both in uniform, but the second one clearly carried more authority.

Xin Qi, still flustered, hadn’t remembered what her rescuer looked like. Now she felt a little embarrassed.

The newcomer smiled, “Comrade, he’s the one who saved you—not me. I’m Zhang Tianlei, his childhood friend. He’s Ling Liehuang.”

Xin Qi turned to Ling Liehuang and smiled. “Thank you, Comrade Ling.”

Ling Liehuang simply replied, “Serving the people.”

His tone was distant, and his gaze seemed to be assessing her—as if trying to see through her.

Xin Qi felt uncomfortable under his stare. She forced a smile and said, “Comrade Ling, why are you looking at me like that? You make it feel like I’ve done something wrong.”

Zhang Tianlei gave Ling a puzzled look and quickly explained, “Don’t take it the wrong way. He looks at everyone like that—like a thief. Occupational habit. Definitely not personal.”

Xin Qi nodded. “Good to know. I thought I’d somehow offended him.”

Ling Liehuang’s voice remained neutral. “I was just curious. You survived such a dangerous situation and still appear remarkably calm.”

Xin Qi carefully replied, “Haha… I guess I’ve always had a strong mental constitution. But mostly, I felt safe waking up and seeing two soldiers beside me.”

“By the way, Comrade Ling—how did you know my surname is Xin?”

Ling paused, then said, “When you passed out on the train, your identity was needed to admit you to the hospital. Under emergency circumstances, I had to check your luggage.”

So, he knew her name was Xin Qi, that she had been sent to the countryside near Harbin, and that she was returning to the city due to pneumonia.

He also knew the doctor had said her illness wasn’t real pneumonia—it was a small sickness that turned serious because of long-term neglect.

But nothing critical. Some IV fluids, and she’d be fine.

In fact, she didn’t have pneumonia at all.