The hard-packed mud-brick wall dug into the back of her neck, sharp and unforgiving.

Albina Huxley’s lashes trembled. What lingered under her nose wasn’t the old end-times mix of disinfectant and gunpowder. It was the cloying scent of cheap face cream mixed with the damp smell of earthen walls, stuffy enough to make a person feel trapped.

"Albina Huxley, you’d better accept it."

That shrill voice burst right by her ear, full of naked malice. "Ethan Lawson’s a cripple now. He’ll be stuck in a wheelchair for the rest of his life. For all anyone knows, he may not even count as a man anymore. If you marry into that house, you’ll be a living widow. But a country bumpkin like you getting matched with a cripple? Frankly, that’s you marrying up."

Albina snapped her eyes open.

Right in front of her was a face powdered pale, brows twisted mean and sharp. It was her cousin Becca Huxley, the orphan from her eldest uncle’s branch, the girl the Huxley parents had doted on like their own daughter for over ten years.

Broken memories came rushing in with the dizziness. She had been one of the top military doctors in the apocalypse. To protect the medical base, she had detonated her portable space and taken the zombie horde down with her.

Then she opened her eyes again and landed inside a period novel she had just read, becoming the real Huxley daughter who happened to share her name. Swapped out at birth by a grandmother obsessed with sons, working together with the eldest uncle, she had been sent off to the countryside. Only recently had she been brought back, not to enjoy her real family, but to marry in Becca’s place.

The Lawson family’s third son, Ethan Lawson, had once been the youngest main-force regiment commander around. Then he was badly wounded on a mission. His legs were ruined, and even his ability to have children had been affected.

Becca had her eyes set on the deputy factory director’s son. No way was she jumping into that pit. And the Huxley couple, biased to the bone, turned their scheme onto the daughter they had only just brought back.

Albina braced herself on the wall and slowly stood up. Her body still felt weak, but her eyes had gone cold as ice.

Becca thought she’d been scared silly, so she leaned closer, about to spit out a few more nasty lines.

Smack.

The crisp sound cracked through the room.

Albina slapped her hard across the face, clean, steady, merciless.

"Watch your mouth. Who exactly are you calling a bumpkin?"

Becca clutched her face and froze.

Usually this dull little mute couldn’t get a word out if you beat her with three sticks. And today she dared to hit back?

She was just about to throw a fit, but the second she met Albina’s eyes, she stopped cold. There wasn’t a trace of fear in them. Only the icy killing intent of someone who had stared death in the face too many times, like she was looking at a corpse. Becca stumbled backward three whole steps, lips trembling, not daring to let out even half a curse.

[Medical space restarting... Host identity confirmed: Albina Huxley.]

[Modules currently unlocked: Basic treatment room, combat supply depot, spirit spring well.]

The familiar mechanical voice rang in her head, and the tight line of Albina’s shoulders loosened a little.

The space was still there.

Good. That made things easy. She had survived mountains of corpses and seas of blood in the apocalypse. This little household squabble wasn’t even enough to stick between her teeth.

"Albina! Have you lost your mind!"

The door was shoved open with a bang as Raymond Huxley and Colette Drummond rushed in.

The moment Colette saw the swollen half of Becca’s face, she slapped her thigh in distress and pointed straight at Albina’s nose as she cursed, "You damned little stray! Becca was kindly trying to have a heart-to-heart with you, and you hit her? You’ve gone wild in the countryside all these years and learned not a lick of manners!"

Raymond’s face was dark too, his tone stiff as an order. "There’s no use making a fuss. The marriage certificate’s already been arranged through connections. The Lawson family is coming this afternoon to pick you up. Ethan used to be a regiment commander, and his monthly allowance isn’t small. You won’t be losing out by marrying him. And that bride price can help your brother with his engagement next month."

Albina laughed.

Her gaze swept over the so-called birth parents in front of her, and the last bit of grievance left behind by the original owner vanished clean away.

"So your real daughter is only worth the bit of bride price meant for your son?"

She strode to the table, picked up the red marriage certificate, and flipped it open. The man in the photo had sharp brows and bright eyes. Even in black and white, his striking air couldn’t be hidden, though there was a gloom pressing at the corners of his brow that wouldn’t lift.

Well. He was definitely her type.

"The certificate’s done, so I’m a Lawson now." She tucked it into her pocket, then lifted her eyes and looked over the three of them. "But let’s get one thing straight first. What you owe me all these years, I’m collecting today, principal and interest."

"Collect what? You’ve got some nerve!" Raymond barked, beard quivering.

Albina ignored him completely and turned toward the back courtyard.

She had just swept the place with her space. The Huxley family’s little stash, Becca’s trousseau, Raymond’s hidden bankbook, Colette’s gold ring, all of it was tucked away in upstairs cabinets and the cellar.

Colette thought she was about to throw another tantrum and hurried after her, grabbing her arm. "You stop right there!"

Albina flicked her arm back. The force was shocking. Colette dropped straight to the ground, landing hard on her backside with a yelp.

"If you keep this up, I’ll go straight to the neighborhood committee and the armed forces office and report every one of you." Albina’s voice wasn’t loud, but every word was crystal clear. "For forcing your biological daughter into a substitute marriage, sabotaging a military marriage, and for what happened back at the hospital when the babies were switched. I’d love to see whether your son’s temporary co-op job and your factory posts can still be saved then."

Raymond stopped dead.

Messing with a military marriage in these days was a serious crime. If this really blew up, the whole family would be dragged down with it.

In the second they froze, Albina had already gone upstairs in big strides.

Bang.

She kicked Becca’s bedroom door open.

"That’s my room! Are you insane?" Becca screamed as she rushed after her.

Albina didn’t spare her a glance. She yanked open the wardrobe drawer. Two pieces of brand-new synthetic fabric, a tin-sealed jar of high-end face cream, industrial coupons hidden under the pillow, and a thick wad of loose cash. With one sweep of her hand, everything vanished into the storage space.

It happened so fast Becca didn’t even process it. She just blinked, and the drawer was empty.

"That’s my dowry! Give it back!" Becca lunged like she’d gone mad.

Albina shifted to the side and lightly hooked a foot out. Thud. Becca crashed face-first to the floor and nearly rattled her front teeth loose.

"Your dowry?" Albina sneered. "Bought with the bride price the Lawson family gave for me, and you call that yours?"

She didn’t stop there. She dug out Raymond’s bankbook hidden under the bed boards and Colette’s gold ring stuffed into a crack near the chimney, then swept them all away too.

Compared to the massive combat stockpile in her space, this little pile of things wouldn’t even fill a corner.

"Old Huxley! She’s stripping the whole house bare!" Colette cried downstairs, slapping her thigh and wailing.

Albina found an old cloth bag, stuffed in two random worn-out outfits for show, and carried it downstairs.

At the gate, she turned back and gave the Huxley house one last look, all flutter and chaos behind her. Her voice rang out bright and clear. "From today on, me and the Huxley family are square. If any of you dare come stirring up trouble on the island, I’ll write up the baby swap and the forced marriage on big-character posters and plaster them across the factory, the military compound, and the streets."

She paused, the corner of her mouth lifting in a cold little smile. "I grew up rough in the countryside. Push me too far, and nobody’s getting off easy."

Then she turned and walked away without looking back.

Raymond was shaking with rage, pointing after her, but no words came out. Becca was still sprawled on the floor, staring at the empty drawers, so heartsick she nearly fainted.

Walking down the dirt road in the county town, Albina drew in a deep breath of dusty air.

No zombies howling. No smell of blood. Poor as this place was, at least it was peaceful.

Following the army to an island. A disabled officer?

Not bad.

Ruined legs, she could treat. Internal injuries, she could nurse back too. And with a face like that, this substitute marriage was a straight profit.

First things first, though, she needed to feed herself. She turned into the state-run restaurant at the street corner and picked a seat by the window.

"Comrade, one serving of braised pork and a large bowl of rice."

When the braised pork came out, the rich smell of oil hit her first. She took a bite. Fat but not greasy, hot and savory, the warmth slid down her throat and into her stomach.

Compared to apocalypse survival biscuits, this was heaven.

She ate slowly, already planning out her new life on the island.

As for Becca? Albina lifted a brow.

That deputy factory director’s son Becca had been dreaming about was a notorious wife-beater in the original story. Back then Becca had schemed and schemed to dump that disaster onto the original owner, keeping her own hands clean. But now? That pot could stay right on her own head.

...

At two in the afternoon, the sound of a jeep engine rolled in from the alley entrance.

The army-green off-road vehicle came to a stop. A young soldier in uniform jumped down, brisk and neat, then knocked on the Huxley family’s door. "Excuse me, is this Comrade Albina Huxley’s home? I’m Gideon Whitfield, Comrade Ethan Lawson’s orderly. I’m here to pick up sister-in-law and take her to the island."

Raymond pulled open the door with a black face and jerked his chin toward the alley. "Over there. Hurry up and take her."

He didn’t want one extra look at her.

Gideon followed the direction and stopped short.

Rumor said the Huxley family’s daughter was soft as dough, timid to the core.

But the girl at the alley mouth was wearing a washed-faded blue jacket, carrying an old cloth bag, leaning against the wall and crunching on an apple. One sharp bite, crisp and clean. Her eyes were bright, and there was an easy, open air about her. How did she look anything like a bullied little doormat?

Albina spotted him, finished the last bite of apple, tossed the core neatly into the rubbish bin nearby, and dusted off her hands as she walked over.

"Let’s go, little comrade."

"Hello, sister-in-law!" Gideon straightened at once. "We’re heading to the dock now, then taking the boat to the island."

When it came to mentioning Ethan, his voice dropped a little, and his eyes dimmed too. The regiment commander’s current state really was...

Albina caught it and smiled. "No need to tense up. How’s his health now? Bad temper?"

"The commander... he’s just in a foul mood lately." Gideon scratched his head. "Once you get there, please bear with him a bit, sister-in-law. He wasn’t like this before."

"Understandable. A hero falls on hard times, he’s bound to have some temper."

Albina bent and climbed into the jeep. The seat was stiff, the engine’s vibration real and alive beneath her.

The car slowly pulled off, kicking up a trail of dust.

The island.

Ethan Lawson.

I’m coming.