Shu Yan struggled to sit up, her head pounding and her vision going black in waves. She had only gone to bed a little late last night—how could her head hurt this much? Was she running a fever?

Her limbs were weak, like jelly. When she opened her mouth, her throat felt clogged, and no sound came out.

Great. She couldn’t even call for an ambulance.

After a moment of effort, she managed to croak out a couple of sounds, slowly regaining her voice. Panic surged through her as she fumbled for her phone to call for help. Living alone in a small rented studio apartment in a city far from home, if anything happened to her, no one would find out until it was too late.

She groped under her pillow for her phone—only to pull out a wad of cash instead. Pale blue hundred-yuan notes?

She froze.

The bills were familiar—this was the currency used when she was a child. But after the government issued the new design years ago, these old bills had long disappeared from circulation.

She was certain she hadn’t kept any as a souvenir. Yesterday had been her day off—she’d changed her sheets, and there was nothing under the pillow except her phone. She hadn’t gone out, and no one had come in. So where did the money come from?

Even more terrifying were her hands. Shu Yan had always been considered plain-looking, but her hands had been her one point of pride—slender, elegant fingers with healthy pink nails, the kind of hands people often said were wasted if not used to play piano.

But now—these hands were dark, pudgy, callused, the fingertips rough with hardened skin. She moved them experimentally—they responded to her will, and yet they didn’t feel like hers…

In a panic, she threw off the covers. Her once-slim frame had turned into something bloated and heavy. She grabbed a fistful of belly fat. The pain was real. A scream built in her throat but never came out. Her whole body trembled uncontrollably.

After a long time…

“I must be dreaming,” Shu Yan whispered, covering her mouth in horror. Even her voice had changed—softer, mushier, unfamiliar. Her real voice had more strength to it.

Her vision went black again, and she collapsed. A sharp pain burst in her head as a flood of unfamiliar memories surged in—like watching someone else’s life flash before her eyes.

This person’s name was also Shu Yan. She was born in 1967, from a long line of poor farmers. She was the fourth of five siblings—two older brothers, one older sister, and one younger brother. She dropped out after third grade to help with chores and take care of her younger brother. At seventeen, she married a man from the neighboring village, Ye Zhiqiang. At eighteen, she gave birth to their daughter, Ye Jingjing. But because she’d had a girl, her in-laws and husband treated her coldly. Two years ago, she finally had a son, and life should have improved—but instead, Ye Zhiqiang, flush with money, started straying. He found himself a fresh-out-of-college girlfriend and began mocking his wife for being old, ugly, fat, and uneducated. Determined to divorce her, he pushed her to despair. Eventually, the original Shu Yan took a handful of sleeping pills.

So… she had transmigrated into this Shu Yan?

Staring at the ceiling in disbelief, Shu Yan blinked. All she did last night was stay up late reading a novel—how did she end up like this?

Wait. Speaking of that novel—her mind jolted awake.

The male and female leads’ parents were named Ye Zhiqiang and Li Jiaojiao… which were exactly the names of the original Shu Yan’s husband and his mistress. And their children—Ye Jingjing and Ye Tianbao—were cannon-fodder characters in the story.

But the most important clue: there was a background character who never actually appeared in the novel, also named Shu Yan. Because the name matched hers, she had paid extra attention to that part.

The heroine of the novel, Ye Ranran, was the daughter of Ye Zhiqiang and Li Jiaojiao. She had two older half-siblings from Ye Zhiqiang’s first marriage—Ye Jingjing and Ye Tianbao. Their mother had died in a car accident when they were still young, and they’d grown up in their grandmother’s home under difficult circumstances. They resented Ye Zhiqiang and, by extension, hated the female lead. Eventually, they tried to harm her—only to be stopped just in time by the male lead.

Ye Jingjing and Ye Tianbao only appeared for about five chapters, and the name “Shu Yan” had been mentioned just once—spoken by Ye Jingjing. That alone wasn’t enough to prove she had transmigrated into a book.

But once she added in the names of the heroine’s grandparents, uncles, and other relatives—it matched the novel she had been reading last night exactly.

So… she really had transmigrated into the book?

And not even as the heroine or a supporting character, but as the mother of a cannon-fodder character—a woman who only appeared once and was already dead.

Now she was the Shu Yan in the story. If the original died in a car accident, didn’t that mean she was supposed to be dead too?

If she died, would that send her back to her original world?

Shu Yan’s real life had been entirely ordinary. She was born in a small county town, where her parents ran a modest fruit shop. She had a younger brother, seven years her junior. They’d grown a bit distant after she left for college, but their relationship remained close. After graduating, she returned home and found a stable job. She had originally planned to take the civil service exam, but her family’s constant pressure to marry wore her down. Fed up, Shu Yan packed her bags and moved back to the city where she had gone to college.

Even at thirty, she was still single—not because she couldn’t get married, but because she refused to settle.

All of Shu Yan’s friends were now married with children. Their lives revolved around their families, and they gradually ran out of things to talk about. Contact became infrequent, and Shu Yan grew increasingly reclusive. Aside from binge-watching dramas, her main pastime was reading novels. Who would’ve thought that reading a novel could actually land her inside one?

Sure, she sometimes complained about her life, but she had never once wished to become someone else.

Her parents must be devastated, thinking she was dead. She didn’t know how, but she could feel it—deep down, she knew that the version of her in the original world had died. The feeling was overwhelming. A sharp, sour ache welled up in her chest, and tears streamed uncontrollably down her cheeks. The only small comfort was that she had a younger brother. At least her parents wouldn’t be left completely alone.

Going back didn’t seem like an option. She didn’t have the courage to end her own life, so what else could she do?

She could only live on the best she could.

Once her thoughts had settled, Shu Yan sat up again. Glancing to the side, she spotted a document with an empty pill bottle resting on top of it. She picked it up and sighed.

“What a foolish woman. Was a lousy man really worth dying for?”

No sooner had the words left her mouth than everything went black again, and she nearly toppled over. Her chest tightened with a suffocating pressure, and a wave of despair nearly crushed her with the urge to just end it all right then.

Clutching her chest, Shu Yan’s gaze turned cold and sharp.

“He was trash from the start. Besides being a wife, you were also a daughter, a mother. You’d die for a man like that—while abandoning the parents who raised you, the children who still need you—and you think you were right to do that?”

The suffocating despair began to fade, slowly replaced by a seething sense of indignation.

“Don’t worry. I won’t let that scumbag and that woman off easily. Since I’m using your body, I’ll take care of your parents and your children too.”

As soon as she said the words, she felt lighter—her breath came easier. Shu Yan hadn’t expected such a casual promise to stir the lingering consciousness left in the body. If she hadn’t responded quickly enough, she might’ve actually been overwhelmed—like being possessed, she could’ve jumped off a building without even realizing what she was doing.

Still, a promise was a promise. She would do her part. She didn’t know why she ended up in this world, but since she had inherited someone else’s body and memories, she was bound to take on its karma too.

Going through the memories again, Shu Yan realized it was now 1992. The world’s level of development was similar to 1992 back in her original timeline. Some countries and cities had different names, but overall, the major trends hadn’t changed. That was good news for her—after all, the 90s were a golden era for starting a business. With her knowledge of what the future held, she was confident she wouldn’t do too badly.

The original Shu Yan had been born in 1967, which made her twenty-five this year—five years younger than Shu Yan herself. And yet, she was already a mother of two. Her eldest, a daughter, was almost seven and about to enter first grade. The younger one was already three.

Shu Yan, who hadn’t even married by thirty in her last life, was stunned.

Starting this life as a mom? What kind of hell-mode is this?!

After calming down for a bit, she continued sorting through the original’s memories. The original Shu Yan had dropped out after third grade. From a young age, she’d stayed home helping with housework and raising her younger brother. But girls in their area were all treated like that—at least she could still read a little. Her older sister hadn’t even stepped foot inside a school.

Both her older brothers and her younger brother had managed to finish junior high. It was clear the family valued sons over daughters. Her eldest sister had been married off just to help pay for their third brother’s wedding. As for Shu Yan, her marriage had funded the bride price for her younger brother, who was only two years younger than her. It was no different from being sold.

The brainwashing at home had been incredibly successful. Both she and her second sister were devoted to helping their brothers and parents. Over the years, the original Shu Yan had given a lot of money to her family in secret.

And the cheating husband… this wasn’t even the first time he’d done it? Shu Yan was stunned by the revelation.

Ye Zhiqiang had already cheated on the original Shu Yan back when she was pregnant with Ye Tianbao. She had cried, argued, made a scene—but shockingly, it was her own mother who came to talk her down. Her mother basically told her to turn a blind eye, saying something along the lines of: “A capable man is bound to have women outside. As his wife, you should be more understanding.”

The truly absurd part? The original Shu Yan actually agreed.

The reason she ended up attempting suicide this time was because that scumbag insisted on divorcing her.

In her eyes, a woman’s duty was to obey her father at home and her husband after marriage. To her, Ye Zhiqiang was her whole world—and now that world was collapsing, she simply couldn’t go on living.

Shu Yan was stunned by such backward thinking. It’s already 1992! And people still thought like this?

No matter how she looked at it, Shu Yan just couldn’t accept such a mindset. Earlier, when she hadn’t sorted through the memories yet, she assumed the original’s parents were like her own—loving and supportive. But now? Knowing what they were really like, she found it impossible to truly care for them. No way she was going to be some martyr of a sister, sacrificing everything for her family. They were all adults now. They had their own lives to live.

Still, since she had promised the original Shu Yan that she’d take care of her parents, she wouldn’t just completely ignore them. If they got sick and needed hospitalization, she’d pay her share. And if they got old and needed care, well, there were five siblings—everyone could pitch in equally. Respect was a two-way street. The original’s parents treated her like an ATM. Maybe she was naïve, but Shu Yan was not.

Thankfully, the original hadn’t told her family that Ye Zhiqiang wanted a divorce. That needed to stay hidden—if her parents found out, they’d definitely oppose the divorce, and it would get messy fast. The original hadn’t wanted a divorce, but Shu Yan? She’d love nothing more.

After marrying Ye Zhiqiang, the original Shu Yan had never worked. She had stayed in the countryside raising the kids and farming. It was only last year that she moved in with Ye Zhiqiang. All she knew was that he was a construction foreman—but she had no idea what exactly he did.

He had money, connections, and plenty of leverage. That put Shu Yan in a very weak position.

She threw the empty pill bottle aside and picked up the document beneath it. It was the divorce agreement.

Skimming through the fluff, she summarized the three main points: The house would go to her; the car to Ye Zhiqiang, the family’s savings would go to her and the custody of both children would go to her.

How much liquid cash could a construction foreman really have? In this era, a house was worth far less than a car. Ye Zhiqiang was clearly trying to wash his hands of his wife and kids so he could go live it up with his mistress.

Keep dreaming, Ye Zhiqiang.

=^_^=