Chapter 1: Crossing

The evening sun had already set, but the summer heat lingered in the air.

As it approached six o’clock, the workers from the nearby textile factory finished their shifts, and soon the communal kitchen of the tenement building was filled with a noisy commotion.

Jiang Ningning withdrew her gaze from the distant view and looked at the perpetual calendar on the nightstand.

January 23, 1976, the lunar calendar’s “Little New Year.”

Was this… a time travel?

Just ten minutes ago, Jiang Ningning had been hiding in the bathroom, avoiding overtime, and mindlessly scrolling through short videos. Her finger had accidentally liked a novel titled “The Twin Treasures Searching for Their Father, the High-ranking Official”.

Now, she found herself in a strange room—damp and cramped. The only furniture was a couple of wobbly benches, and there was nothing that resembled decent furniture.

A voice from nearby was incessantly nagging:

“Ningning, I heard Donglin’s subsidy has increased this month. Your younger brother-in-law is getting married, and he’s just a step away from getting his own car.”

“Since they were kids, the two brothers have always been close. Jiejun doesn’t want to lose face, but it’s your husband who’s embarrassing himself.”

“Look at the pair of twins you gave birth to, they’re all sickly like you. What future do they have? Don’t you think Jiejun’s kids will have to support them?”

Jiang Ningning’s heart tightened in pain, and instinctively, she murmured in defense: “If it weren’t for the lazy younger brother-in-law throwing water outside in the middle of winter, I wouldn’t have had a premature birth.”

Her sweet voice, like honey, wasn’t her own, but the sharp ache in her chest felt all too real.

A middle-aged woman’s voice exploded with fury, “You clearly weren’t looking where you were going, and you blame Jiejun for it. No wonder you haven’t come to show respect to your father and me in all these years. It seems you’ve been holding on to a bellyful of grievances. It’s infuriating that Donglin has been gone for five years, leaving just the two old fools like us with no one to care for us.”

Her husband, the officer Huo Donglin? The twins, Xiaxia and Manman?

Jiang Ningning’s pale face froze for a moment.

She hadn’t just time-traveled.

She had crossed into the body of the deceased mother of the talented twins in a military romance novel.

The original owner was a left-behind military wife. Five years ago, her husband, Huo Donglin, received an urgent mission and never returned. However, every month on the fifth, he would send his allowance from the army, which had increased from fifty yuan to one hundred and fifty yuan.

This was during the national construction period, still under the public rationing system, with rice sold at a few cents per jin.

Generally speaking, this allowance was enough for the mother and her two children to live a modest but comfortable life.

However, her in-laws would either take most of the salary under the pretext of “managing the allowance” or subtly hint that she should give them filial gifts.

This time, they had gone too far. Not only did the younger brother-in-law demand a dowry for his marriage, but he also took all the tickets for daily necessities and even cleaned out the money for the twins’ milk powder.

The original owner was too soft-hearted and didn’t dare to resist, until her mother-in-law set her sights on the house and the position at the textile factory…

This house was the only inheritance left to her by her parents, and it was the only thing keeping her and her children alive.

Her mother had been a regular worker at the textile factory, and her father was a level eight technician. Both of them had passed away ten years ago in a major flood relief effort.

Over the years, the factory leadership had been kind to her, helping her finish high school, then arranging for her to work in the factory to replace her mother’s position, and having skilled teachers train her.

But the original owner was simply too delicate.

Even a small needle prick would cause her fingers to swell for days, and coarse fabric would rub her skin raw. A slight bump would leave a huge bruise, and it almost looked like she was being abused at the factory.

The factory leadership had nearly pulled out their hair trying to deal with her, and eventually introduced her to the well-off Huo Donglin, hoping that the original owner would live a comfortable life as a military wife.

The original owner was strikingly beautiful, and Huo Donglin had indeed taken an instant liking to her.

She inherited her biological mother’s striking beauty, her delicate face like a finely sculpted piece of jade. Despite wearing patched-up cotton clothes, her brilliance still shone brightly, almost blinding to look at.

However, this beauty also brought trouble, manifesting in two ways:

First, after their wedding night, her husband had to leave for military duty without taking her with him. Her sister-in-law, jealous of her appearance, often stirred up trouble between her and her mother-in-law.

Even during her postpartum confinement, her sister-in-law incited her mother-in-law to throw her and her children out on the eve of the new year, citing the excuse that “there wasn’t enough room.”

Second, as an orphaned mother living alone, without help from either her parents or in-laws, the neighbors occasionally lent a hand at first, but over time, rumors began to spread.

The gossiping women behind her back called her a “fox spirit,” accusing her of seducing men. The twins were often ostracized by other children of their age.

The original owner had spent all her money trying to please her in-laws, yet still couldn’t provide enough food or clothing for her children. The twins had to scavenge for scraps and earn money to feed themselves.

Under the pressure and manipulation from her mother-in-law, the original owner, though resisting, ultimately gave in, surrendering the house and the two job positions left by her parents.

The twins, deeply disappointed, secretly boarded a train to the island to find their father.

And this was the night the original owner would die.

Jiang Ningning: “…”

This self-sacrificing, saintly mother who would starve herself and her children to support her in-laws, this scheming woman who could guilt-trip a four-year-old into supporting her own family—this fragile, beautiful, and broken woman… This was her new identity.

Just as she was digesting the memories that weren’t her own, a pair of rough, yellowish hands suddenly grabbed her, clinging to her like vines wrapping around a tree, draining her of her strength.

Tian Cuifen, dressed in a dark blue cloth shirt and carrying a bamboo basket, saw that she hadn’t nodded for a long time and suddenly became stern: “If it weren’t for the family tightening their belts to send Donglin to the army, where would you be now? You wouldn’t have food to eat, a house to live in—don’t you have any conscience? If you don’t give it, then you’re unfilial. Tomorrow, I’ll take the train to the army and ask the leaders to settle it.”

After listening for a while, Jiang Ningning could tell that the old lady was a sharp, calculating person.

First, she appealed to reason and emotion, using the past sacrifices made by the whole family for their eldest son as leverage. Then, she threatened to cause trouble at the army base, using that to pressure Jiang Ningning into handing over the money.

In the 1970s, reputation and job positions were crucial. The old lady wouldn’t really cause a scene at the army base, risking her eldest son’s job and reputation. It was all just an empty threat to scare the original owner into submission.

But the original owner was so gullible, she would undoubtedly soften up and comply.

The old trick had worked.

Outside the window, the twins were tightly huddled together.

Their small faces seemed to have been carved from the same mold, with fair skin and large, dark eyes like black grapes. Their black pupils were clear and distinct.

The faded indigo cotton jackets wrapped around their frail bodies, sleeves covered in patches, and their small hands were covered in bruises, darker than the twilight outside.

“Manman, we don’t have a place to live anymore.” The little sister, Xiaxia, whose braid was askew, suddenly crouched down, her voice as light as melting snow.

“Mama will compromise like she always does.”

Manman immediately blocked the cold wind blowing down the hallway with his body, his icy palm enveloping her small hand. “Silly Xiaxia, I’ve told you many times, you should call me ‘brother.'”

“Brother won’t let you be homeless,” he promised, more to reassure himself than anyone else.

The two siblings leaned their heads together, their shoulders touching.

Nearby, a sack emitting a foul smell lay, with Old Zhang, the scrap collector, having said that these old tin sheets could at least be exchanged for a bit of money.

“We’ll go find Dad…”

Crash!

Suddenly, a loud crash of a bowl broke the silence inside the house, followed by Tian Cuifen’s furious yelling: “Are you crazy? Why did you suddenly throw cold water on my face? Ah, it’s freezing!”