Chapter 1

Tang Yajun woke up with her head splitting in pain, as memories that did not belong to her rushed violently into her mind.

Her hand went up to her forehead—sticky and wet. Blood.

A man was pressing against her, lips moving along her neck.

“Yajun, I’ve missed you so much—I thought I’d die without you!”

Tang Yajun pushed hard against him, trying to shove him off.

Bang, bang, bang! Heavy knocks thundered against the door.

A sharp, mocking female voice followed:
“I told you there’s no man in there, why don’t you believe me?”

The man on top of Tang Yajun froze, startled, and turned toward the noise.

In that instant, memories clicked into place. This was a trap set by the original body’s stepmother.

If anyone outside saw her with this man, it would confirm the accusation of adultery.

In her past life, the original had been ruined by this exact scheme—despised by her husband’s family, cast out, and drowned in the lake.

Now that Tang Yajun, a modern soul, had taken her place, there was no way she would let that tragedy repeat.

Her hand groped the bedstand, finding the oil lamp.

Crash! The lamp shattered against the man’s head. He collapsed unconscious, tumbling off the bed with a dull thud.

“Kick it down!” a cold male voice ordered outside.

Tang Yajun jolted in fright, scanning the room. Aside from a simple wardrobe, only the space under the bed could hide someone.

She rubbed her fingertips together—a nervous habit—thinking desperately:
If only there were somewhere I could hide this man…

Suddenly, her bloodied birthmark on her finger began to glow faint red.

A swirling vortex opened before her eyes, revealing a hidden space within.

Her pupils trembled. Her research project… the “Qiankun Pouch”… had come with her?

The pounding on the door grew more violent. No time to think. She shoved the unconscious man inside, willed the gate shut, and staggered back just as the wooden door burst open.

“Turn around! No one looks inside,” barked the man outside.

At his command, the soldiers averted their eyes.

Inside, only Tang Yajun remained, disheveled and alone.

Liu Yane, her stepmother, hurried in, feigning innocence.
“See? I said it was only Yajun here. No one else.”

Her narrow eyes flicked about, even casually glancing under the bed—but found nothing. Strange. She was sure she’d seen Tang Hewei sneak into this very room.

“Yajun, look at you, clothes all in disarray. Go change.”

She opened the wardrobe, rummaging through it with deliberate intent.

Tang Yajun steadied herself, her gaze landing on the man seated in the wheelchair by the doorway.

Sword brows, sharp eyes, tall nose, tightly pressed lips. His chest rose and fell heavily, veins standing taut across the back of his hand as if he were holding himself back with great restraint.

Silently, she fastened the loose button on her collar and smoothed her clothing.

“Search the room!” he commanded harshly.

His men rushed in, turning over boxes and cabinets.

Tang Yajun stepped out, standing beside his wheelchair, her mind spinning.

This was her husband, Lu Chongjin.

The original body’s father, seeking to secure a city marriage for his daughter, had repaid a favor by marrying her into the Lu family.

On their wedding night, Lu Chongjin was sent away on an urgent mission.

The original girl had already been in love with her childhood sweetheart, Tang Hewei, and despised her soldier husband’s family. Even after marriage, she secretly longed for her old flame.

Tang Yajun, however, was a very different woman—a modern PhD from a family of doctors, once recruited into the top-secret “Qiankun Pouch” project. A lab accident had cut her finger, and she fainted… only to awaken here.

The original had been foolish. Even knowing her fate, she still came to meet her lover—and died early from a head injury.

It gave Tang Yajun her chance at rebirth.

Since she now lived in this body, she owed the girl a debt. She swore to find the one who had killed the original. She wasn’t meddling for kindness’ sake—it was survival. She wouldn’t risk being drowned like before.

But the original’s memories gave her no clue. The only thing known was that a man had pushed her into the lake.

Then came a more pressing concern: in this era, survival required labor and ration stamps. Without practical skills, how could a laboratory-bound scientist like her manage?

She couldn’t lift, couldn’t haul, couldn’t cook—armed only with the memories of a naïve girl.

Her gaze fell again on Lu Chongjin. After weighing her options, she made a decision.

She pinched her arm hard, forcing tears to her large almond eyes. Her pale face turned pitiful as she choked out:

“On our wedding night, you left me alone. I kept myself pure, serving your parents and helping your family. And this is how you treat me?”

Lu Chongjin’s brows furrowed deeper.

Her blood-stained forehead and sorrowful face struck something deep in his chest—though he quickly masked it.

This woman was good at acting. Did she even realize what she was saying?

While he’d been away on missions, letters of complaint about her had poured in like snowflakes: secret trysts with her lover, disrespect toward his parents, mocking her widowed sister-in-law for not remarrying, accusing his younger brother of being a freeloader.

If not for his duties, he’d have returned sooner to see what kind of wife he had brought home.

An injury had forced him back to heal—and he was immediately met with an anonymous letter, detailing her “affair” with Tang Hewei down to every last detail.

Furious, he’d come straight here, ready to catch them in the act and put a bullet through the man.

Now, hearing her twist black into white before his eyes, he almost laughed in anger.

“If you truly cared for me, why not stay home and wait? Why come running back to your parents’ house now of all times?”

His sharp retort left Tang Yajun momentarily speechless.

In truth, the original had been lured back by a planted note.

Her eyes slid toward Liu Yane, still busy searching the room. A plan began to form in her mind.