Chapter 3 – Transmigration

When An Ran woke up, she felt the rocking of a train beneath her and realized—she was surrounded by people.

So, it really happened. She had transmigrated.

She quickly checked—her space had come with her. That was a relief.

Looking around, she noticed everyone was dressed plainly, some even wearing patched-up clothes. Before she could think further, a wave of dizziness washed over her, and suddenly—memories that didn’t belong to her filled her mind.

It was 1970.
The body she now inhabited belonged to a young woman who was an orphan—both parents were martyrs who had died in service. Since her parents had also been orphans, she had no other relatives. A truly pitiful soul.

After her parents’ deaths, the government had issued a sizable compensation, which led to some people eyeing her with bad intentions. To escape their greed, she had volunteered to be sent to the countryside.

Her life had been simple—her parents’ unit hadn’t been a suitable place for a child to live or study, so she’d grown up in the city, raising herself.

She graduated high school, but just as she was considering work—university having been canceled—she received the news of her parents’ deaths.
She endured the grief, handled the funeral, and, fearing things might go downhill, immediately signed up to leave for the countryside.
She hadn’t rested, she hadn’t recovered from the shock, and she… died.

That’s when An Ran arrived.

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A dark-skinned, skinny girl sitting beside her suddenly spoke up loudly:

“My name is Zheng Xiuhong! I’m heading to Erjiazi in Jicheng, I’m 20 this year. What about all of you?”

Then, a clean-cut young man in glasses and a white shirt followed up with a scholarly tone:

“I’m Huang Jianshe, 22 years old. I’m also going to Erjiazi. I love reading—especially the Little Red Book. I carry it with me at all times.”

An Ran felt completely out of place.

Next was a girl with two neat braids, delicate features, and fair skin—clearly from a good family.

“My name is Wang Xixi, from Shanghai. I’m 20, and I love reading too. I’m also headed to Jicheng.”

She offered a shy smile, her cheeks flushed with pink. The boys nearby couldn’t take their eyes off her.

An Ran, meanwhile, was frozen.
Wait a minute—Wang Xixi?! Isn’t she the heroine from the novel I was reading on the plane?

She remembered picking up the novel only because one of the background characters—an ordinary onlooker—shared her name.

So not only had she transmigrated, but she had transmigrated into a book—as a nameless side character who appears a handful of times.

“Well… it’s still better than being the evil supporting female lead,” An Ran thought optimistically.

Her grandmother had always taught her:

“If you want to get along with others, blend in. Keep a low profile. Never be the odd one out.”

Staying in the background, blending into the crowd—that had always been An Ran’s way of life.

In the novel, Wang Xixi was the female lead. The male lead was Xiao Jianshe, the son of the village chief and a soldier.
Their story unfolded from a chance meeting into a convoluted saga of “I love you, you don’t love me; you love him, he loves her”—a tangled mess of melodrama that had been so over-the-top, An Ran had dropped the book halfway through.

“If I’d known I’d end up here, I would’ve finished reading the damn thing,” she thought bitterly.

---

Soon it was her turn to introduce herself.

“My name is An Ran. I’m 19, from Beijing. I think most of us on this train are headed to Jicheng, right? I don’t really have any special skills… I just enjoy reading.”

Simple. Low-key. Safe.

But then she felt a faint, unfriendly gaze sweep over her. She glanced around—it was from Wang Xixi.

“I was being so low-profile… Why did I still catch the heroine’s attention? That doesn’t fit my background character persona,” she thought.

Wang Xixi gave her a bright, elegant smile before turning away.

An Ran looked exactly the same as before transmigrating, except now she was a few years younger. Her skin was smooth like porcelain, with a hint of baby fat on her cheeks—giving her a soft, round, “blessed” face that aunties and grannies loved. Not stunning, but very pleasant to look at.

Just then, a girl who had earlier introduced herself as Xu Zhaodi suddenly stood up and said loudly:

“Let’s sing a red song together! It’ll help us all get to know each other better!”

Many responded enthusiastically:

“Great idea!”

Soon, the train car was filled with the sound of singing. An Ran, swept up in the youthful energy and passion, joined in.

She looked at the spirited young faces around her.
They didn’t yet know what the future held. But their patriotism was sincere and fiery.

She suddenly remembered something someone had once said:

“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.”

Maybe that was true.
No matter when or where we live, there are always ups and downs—always light and shadow.