Vivian Ashford saw the elevator doors about to shut and hurried forward at once.

There was only a gap of about a foot left. She figured that with her build, if she turned sideways, she could still squeeze in. So she angled her body and slipped toward the opening.

And then it all went wrong.

The elevator doors didn’t open for her at all. Instead, they snapped shut hard.

With a heavy bang, her head was caught right between the doors. Her mind went blank, and everything in front of her turned black.

Good Lord, it hurt.

The back of her head felt like it was about to split open. She wanted to lift a hand and touch it, but then realized her head could move again.

Vivian Ashford winced and opened her eyes. The next second, she almost cried out.

Just now it had clearly been broad daylight. How had it turned to night after nothing more than closing her eyes and opening them again?

The room was dim. Moonlight filtered in through the glass window and fell across the tall dark figure standing nearby.

Only then did Vivian notice she was lying flat on the floor.

Vivian Ashford: "..."

She had no time to think about how on earth she had suddenly ended up here. Right now, all she wanted was to call for help.

Then the shadow moved.

A pair of warm, large hands clamped over Vivian’s mouth, leaving only her frightened eyes exposed.

A flood of memories that did not belong to her slammed into her mind. Only then did Vivian understand—

She had actually transmigrated.

Damn it, what kind of trash elevator was that? One head-clamp and she got thrown straight into another world?

Still... it really had clamped her well.

If she’d known getting her head caught in an elevator could make her transmigrate, she would’ve tried it ages ago.

Then she wouldn’t have had to keep going downstairs every day to make herself throw up, and she wouldn’t have been trapped, unable to go anywhere.

The tall shadow bent down and whispered by her ear, "Don’t make a sound. Otherwise, I won’t be polite with you."

Vivian blinked hard to show she understood, though she had no idea whether the shadow could even see it.

The man’s breath brushed across her face, carrying a strong, unmistakably male scent.

Carefully, he removed his hand.

Then, almost immediately, he put some distance between them.

Vivian Ashford was gulping in breath, one hard pull after another, her chest rising and falling fast. The man looked a little awkward and turned his eyes away.

She hurried closer at once and dropped her voice, afraid someone outside might hear.

"Well... I really didn’t mean to."

"To tell you the truth, I’ve got this problem. When I’m half asleep at night, I tend to wander around. I don’t even know what I’m doing myself. I truly wasn’t trying to sneak into your room. Heh... heh..."

"Please, don’t shout. If you wake everybody up, then tomorrow, even if you don’t want a wife, you’ll still have to marry one."

Nathan Sinclair sat there with his arms folded, eyes narrowed into a thin line, watching this little girl make things up without even blinking.

Sleepwalking? Really?

Could sleepwalking make someone throw herself straight at him? And when she missed, she even went and took a tumble.

If he had not dodged fast and jumped up onto the kang, forget tomorrow morning—he might have been forced to bow before the ancestors tonight.

She had failed to get what she wanted, and now she was still trying to talk herself out of it. Her skin was thicker than city walls.

He could not be bothered wasting words on her. As long as she did not start yelling and let others hear, he would pretend tonight had never happened.

"Get out."

The man pressed down his voice and spat out the words, cold as ice.

"Oh, don’t be like that. I’m already in here, hehe..."

Nathan Sinclair’s eyes tightened. "...What exactly do you mean by that?"

"Well... how about we talk a little? I’m actually pretty thin-skinned, you know. For me to say this much, I’ve really been driven into a corner. I had no other choice."

"Do you have someone already? If not... could you maybe take a look at me?"

"My name is Rosalind Ashford. I’m eighteen this year. I finished middle school. Sylvia Ashford and I are twins, born from the same pregnancy."

"But you’ve seen it too. The way I’m treated in this house and the way she’s treated—it’s not just a small difference. No, to be exact, there are five children in the Ashford family, and except for me, our parents treat every one of them fairly well."

"I’ve even wondered whether I was switched at birth."

"Nathan Sinclair, cut the nonsense. Just say what you really mean."

Truth be told, Vivian Ashford felt awkward even saying that much. But if she didn’t pad it out a little first, there was no way she could bring herself to say what came next.

If she couldn’t get herself married within two days, she would be sent down to the countryside.

The one who was supposed to go in the first place was the original girl’s twin sister, Sylvia Ashford. The subdistrict office and the neighborhood committee had come looking for Sylvia too.

But Sylvia was the treasure of the Ashford couple, the precious one they held in their palms. How could they bear to let her go suffer out in some rural village? So in the end, the one pushed out was the original girl.

She was the second daughter in the family. Below her was a younger sister, sixteen-year-old Tessa Ashford, another darling her parents doted on like the apple of their eye. So naturally, the one left to take the blow was the poor wretch stuck in the middle.

Still, the original girl wasn’t some meek little thing anyone could trample over. Being ignored at home all these years was one thing, but this matter had clearly been meant for Sylvia, and yet they forced it onto her head. She cried, she shouted, she refused with all her might, but who in that house would listen to her?

In the end, her mother, Agnes Ashford, threw down her words cold and hard: if she didn’t want to go, fine. Then either she found herself a job by her own ability, or she found herself a husband and got married.

As for the work position in the family, that was being kept for Sylvia. She was told not to even think about it.

What kind of mother says something like that?

It was enough to make a person choke with anger.

They were both daughters. Why was one cherished like a jewel, while the other had to swallow all the bitterness?

The original girl may not have thought too deeply about it, but Vivian Ashford had seen enough melodramas over the years to know better. If someone said there was nothing fishy in this, she wouldn’t believe it for a second.

Day by day, the deadline crept closer. The date to leave for the countryside was almost at hand. Even people from the neighborhood committee had come knocking to press the matter. Agnes Ashford kept a stern face and told them plainly that it would be the second daughter from their family who would go.

Tomorrow the form had to be filled out. Once the name was written and submitted, the matter would be nailed shut. No changing it after that.

Just like people always say, when the road seems to end, sometimes a turn appears out of nowhere. Right when the original girl was cornered with no way out, her elder brother came home.

There were five children in the Ashford family. The first two were sons, the last three daughters. The eldest had gone off to serve in the army, and the second son had already been sent to the countryside.

The eldest son was Albert Ashford. He was twenty-five this year and had already risen to the rank of company commander.

This time, when he came home on leave, he had brought his battalion commander with him.

That man standing before her now was Nathan Sinclair.

The original girl had no idea why Battalion Commander Sinclair had come to the Ashford home. She only knew one thing—

her chance had come.

Agnes Ashford had already made herself perfectly clear: either find work on her own, or hurry up and get married.

And so the original girl had thrown caution to the wind. In the middle of the night, she had sneaked her way here, thinking she would deal with everything first and worry about the rest later.

To be honest, the original Rosalind had real nerve. But she’d been pushed to the edge. She didn’t want to be sent down to the countryside to suffer, and with her parents and that whole family favoring others at every turn, her heart had gone cold long ago.

So in a moment of desperation, she steeled herself. Either way, it was all the same to her now. Her head got hot, and she slipped straight into Nathan Sinclair’s room.

But she had made it sound far too easy in her own mind. A soldier like him—how could he possibly let her have her way?

She threw herself toward Nathan Sinclair, but he sidestepped at once. She lost her balance and crashed to the floor by herself. The back of her head struck the ground, and that was when Vivian Ashford came here.

Vivian Ashford actually wished she could switch back with the original Rosalind. That girl had not been some wicked-hearted person.

She only wanted a more bearable life. If one had to name the people who truly ruined her, it was the Ashford family.

If those people had not been so heartless, had not driven her step by step into a dead end, she would never have risked making such a move.

That was everything that had just surfaced in Vivian Ashford’s mind.

Vivian Ashford let out a quiet sigh. She had only just arrived, and there were only two days left. No matter how capable she was, there was no way she could turn this around so fast.

As for being sent down to the countryside, she was even less willing than the original Rosalind.

Before she came here, she had never worried about food or clothes. Her family had been well-off, she had not even finished university yet, summer break had only just begun, and then somehow, all muddled and without warning, she had ended up here.