"I sure as hell don't want to be stuck with an idiot. What a pain."

"And look at Rosalind Mercer now. If we take her to the military district like this, she'll only make the whole family lose face."

As she spoke, Vivienne Mercer flicked the train ticket in her hand onto the table. It landed with a sharp smack.

"If she insists on going, then we go separately. And once we get there, don't expect me to admit I know her."

She was heading there for a better life, not to suffer.

If some fool of a relative followed behind her, how was she supposed to show her face in the military district?

The moment those words came out, the expressions in the room all turned a little strange.

Rosalind Mercer and Vivienne Mercer were cousin sisters. Both had married soldiers, and the two men were even stationed in the same military district.

The family had originally planned that once the papers for joining their husbands were settled, the two sisters would travel there together, looking out for each other on the road.

Who would have thought Rosalind Mercer would suddenly come down with a high fever and burn her mind stupid?

Now that Vivienne Mercer refused to travel with Rosalind Mercer, her father also felt Rosalind Mercer had turned foolish and would only be a burden.

So even though he did not say it outright, in his heart he was clearly standing on his daughter's side.

Albert Mercer took two pulls from his cigarette. Seeing his second son keep his mouth shut, he simply laid the matter bare.

"Even if Rosalind Mercer has gone stupid, she's already got the marriage certificate with Nathaniel Holt. That makes her a Holt family's daughter-in-law. There's no reason for us to raise her for them. So Rosalind Mercer has to be sent over to Nathaniel Holt."

"Besides, your mother and I are getting on in years. We don't have the strength to keep feeding a fool. If you don't want to send Rosalind Mercer to the military district, then take her back to the city and raise her yourselves."

No sooner had he finished than the second son, Stanley Mercer, could not stay seated.

"Why should we be the ones to raise her?"

Albert Mercer dragged hard on his cigarette, then lifted a yellowed finger and jabbed it toward Stanley Mercer.

"If it weren't for her father's death compensation, would you have gotten that job at the meat factory?"

Stanley Mercer shot back at once, "Then by that logic, what about Rosalind Mercer's bride price money, and the compensation you and Mother squeezed out of the hospital? Didn't all of that end up in your pockets too?"

Who here could really claim their hands were clean?

Albert Mercer was so angry he broke into a fit of coughing. After he finally caught his breath, he let out a long sigh.

"Forget it. As long as you get Rosalind Mercer out of the way, all the good stuff the Holt family sent her will be yours."

Now that there was something to gain, Stanley Mercer finally shut up. But Vivienne Mercer still wasn’t satisfied.

"Grandpa, what about me? I should get something too, right?"

Albert Mercer thought it over for a moment, then said, "Your aunt left behind a few pieces of jewelry. She’s like this now anyway, she can’t wear them. They’ll go to you."

Only then did Vivienne smile. Rosalind’s mother had come from Hucheng as an educated youth, so the things she left behind had to be worth money.

The three of them sat there figuring out how to dump Rosalind, that burden, and split up her family’s property. Not one of them noticed Rosalind sitting by the doorstep. In those eyes that looked dull and blank, a streak of cold light flashed by.

She had crossed into a book.

She had become the cannon-fodder supporting girl in the period novel Sweet Seventies Military Marriage, a girl with the exact same name as her.

In the book, the heroine, Vivienne Mercer, was one of those lucky stars. From childhood to adulthood, everything went her way, and she drifted into a good life without much effort.

As for Rosalind, she was the unlucky foil set up beside her.

Whenever Vivienne got something good, Rosalind was the one who paid for it.

Take when they were one year old and learning to walk. The two of them fell at the same time, and Rosalind ended up as the cushion underneath.

At three, Rosalind got stung all over the head by hornets, while Vivienne somehow got wild honey to eat.

When she was five, Rosalind’s mother drowned trying to save someone. Vivienne, on the other hand, escaped disaster and came out blessed.

At seven, Rosalind’s father died in the line of duty. Stanley Mercer took his elder brother’s compensation money and got himself into the meat factory. From then on, his whole family moved into the city and started living well.

...

And this time, Rosalind had gone foolish, so Vivienne was about to get her hands on the things Rosalind’s mother had left behind.

Among those things was a ring with a storage space inside. Once Vivienne got it, her life completely took off.

When Rosalind had read this book before, she had felt especially bad for that pitiful girl who shared her name. She’d been so angry she stopped reading halfway through.

What lucky-star heroine? Vivienne was nothing of the sort. She was clearly feeding off the original Rosalind’s luck, making that poor girl take every disaster in her place.

The original Rosalind had only been five when her mother died. At seven, her father was gone too. This whole family, old and young, had been living off the little her parents left behind, yet when it came to her, they pinched every penny and treated her like she didn’t deserve a thing.

No school for her, barely enough food or clothes, up before dawn to work the fields, and only allowed to stop when it was fully dark.

This time, the original Rosalind had burned up with fever that badly all because Vivienne Mercer had casually tossed out, "If the fever runs a little higher, it’ll toughen her up. No need to rush and give her medicine."

The old couple heard that and thought it sounded just fine. It would save them the cost of buying medicine, and besides, young people were supposed to be sturdy enough to endure it. So they dragged it out just like that.

By the time they finally sent her to the hospital, she was already beyond saving. The only reason she still had one breath left was because the plot needed her to keep taking hits for the heroine, Vivienne Mercer.

And this family? Rotten to the core. They turned right around and pinned it on the hospital, insisting the doctors had treated the original Rosalind until her mind went bad.

They camped in the hospital lobby day after day, kicking up a scene nonstop. In the end, the hospital couldn’t take it anymore and secretly paid them off just to make them go away.

And that still wasn’t the end of it. According to the book, next Vivienne Mercer would drag the original Rosalind to the military district to find her husband, Nathaniel Holt.

They would squeeze Nathaniel Holt for money with a whole lot of shameless demands. Once there was nothing left to bleed out of him, they would sweet-talk that foolish original Rosalind into divorcing Nathaniel Holt, then turn around and "marry" her off to an old widower in the village.

That old man would beat the original Rosalind whenever he was in a foul mood. In the end, one blow went too far and killed her, and once again the heroine made money off her.

It could be said that the original Rosalind had lived her whole life like a beast of burden for the heroine.

After running through everything the original Rosalind had suffered in the book, Rosalind Mercer was so furious her hands clenched tight.

All at once, she sprang upright, grabbed the dung ladle beside her, scooped up a heaping load, and stormed into the house.

"You filthy, rotten lot, go to hell!"

With a loud splash, that stinking, sticky mess flew straight at the three of them.

The three people inside only caught a wave of foul stench at first. Before they could even figure out what was happening, the dung ladle in Rosalind’s hand came swinging toward their heads.

"Smack, smack, smack!"

"Ow!"

All three got plastered from head to face and started dodging everywhere, clutching their heads.

Rosalind was like she was playing whack-a-mole, cracking one and then the next.

Albert Mercer wiped his face, finally saw it was Rosalind holding the dung ladle, and burst out cursing, "Rosalind! You little brute, you’ve got some nerve—ugh!"

The second he opened his mouth, that slop rushed straight in. The foulness of it was beyond words.

The moment Stanley Mercer heard that, he was just about to start cursing when another ladle of manure water came flying at him.

"Ugh—ugh—"

Seeing things had gone bad fast, Vivienne Mercer didn’t dare say another word. She covered her head and bolted for the door.

The three of them dodged Rosalind Mercer’s attacks one after another and ran out in a panic.

Afraid Rosalind Mercer might chase after them, they even locked the yard gate from the outside before leaving.

"Rosalind Mercer isn’t dumb at all. She’s gone plain crazy!"

"Hurry and send her away! Right now, send her away!"

"Waaah, it stinks so bad I’m gonna die. I need to wash up at the river."

"Don’t cry, darling. Let’s go get cleaned up first. After that, we’ll deal with that wretched girl properly!"

The noise outside slowly faded into the distance. Rosalind Mercer sniffed.

Just now, she’d been too busy venting her anger to notice the smell.

Now that she got a proper whiff of it, good lord, it was brutal.

Still, it felt great.

Besides, now that they were gone, she finally had the chance to take back what should have been hers in the first place.

She slid the bolt across the front gate from inside, then followed the original owner’s memory to Albert Mercer’s room.

The book had mentioned it before: the things left behind by the original owner’s mother had been stuffed into a wooden trunk in Albert Mercer’s bedroom.

She rummaged through boxes and cabinets for a while, and at last found that tiny jade ring.

The whole ring was clear and glossy, looking no different from any ordinary jade band.

She immediately slipped it onto her finger, bit the tip of her finger, and used blood to claim it as her own.

The drop of blood landed on the jade ring, but instead of rolling off, it was quickly absorbed.

Then a soft silver light flashed, and Rosalind Mercer felt as if someone had yanked her forward. In the next second, she was inside a space about the size of a basketball court.