“Two hundred. Not a cent less. That girl’s the only one that short‑lived fool left behind, and her face looks like it was carved off some movie star.”
Outside the mud wall, a shrill voice screeched like metal scraping the bottom of a pot, enough to make anyone’s scalp tighten.
“That little thing looks like a stiff breeze could knock her over. Who knows if she can even give birth? The Roswell family’s fool needs an heir.”
An older voice mumbled along, dragging every word.
“Why wouldn’t she? Look at those hips, that waist. You can tell at a glance she’s built for having kids. As long as she serves your fool boy right, you’ll be carrying a chubby grandson by next year.”
“Fine, then we’ll take her over tonight. No point letting this drag on and cause trouble.”
Their voices faded with their footsteps, leaving the run‑down mud house so quiet it felt eerie.
Celandine Sullivan snapped her eyes open, breath coming fast and shaky.
Her chest felt like a stone was pressing down on it, every breath scraping fire up her throat.
She blinked blearily at the dark, soot‑stained beams overhead and the torn patch of window paper fluttering in the draft.
The earthen bed under her was brutally hard, every knob and dip jabbing straight into her bones.
A flood of memories that weren’t hers jammed into her head all at once.
The 1970s. Huaihua Production Brigade.
She was a sent‑down educated youth—and the doomed first wife in this retro‑era novel.
Because she looked good, her stepmother treated her like something to be sold, planning to marry her off to the fool in the next village just to scrape together money for her own son’s bride price.
The original girl had been so timid that the moment she heard the rumor, she thought about hanging herself with a rope.
Celandine lifted her arm and stared at the pale wrist.
The skin was so fair it was almost see‑through, blue veins showing clear as day.
This body was painfully weak—so weak that even a tiny movement made her feel hollowed out.
So this was that so‑called “delicate beauty” physique the book talked about?
Every spot on her felt oversensitive, soft like she’d lost all her bones, and even the lightest brush left a red mark. She even carried this faint milky scent on her skin. In peaceful times, that might’ve been something charming. But in an era that could swallow a person whole without spitting out the bones, it was nothing but trouble.
She braced herself, pushing up with shaky arms as the room spun hard enough to make her stomach turn. Since she’d woken up in this body, she wasn’t about to let anyone use her as they pleased. Sell her off? Yeah right—dream on.
In these years, when things had barely loosened up and rules still clamped down everywhere, running on her own was pointless. Without an introduction letter, she couldn’t even step past the gate of the county seat. Going back to the city was nothing but wishful thinking.
She needed someone who could shield her. Someone who could shut her stepmother up, scare off the local thugs, and keep her safe.
“Celandine! Celandine, you in there?”
A rushed knock hit the door.
Celandine Sullivan steadied her breath, the voice instantly recognizable—it was the original girl’s only friend, Raina Morrison. She forced her weak body to calm down and answered, her voice rough.
“Door’s open. Come on in.”
The wooden door let out a loud creak, and a girl in a worn gray blouse with two thick braids burst inside. Raina held a small bamboo basket covered with a piece of old blue cloth.
The moment she saw how pale Celandine looked, Raina’s eyes instantly reddened.
“I knew that heartless stepmother of yours didn’t give you a bite to eat! Here, I brought you two boiled eggs—they’re still warm.”
Raina dug out two warm eggs and shoved them into Celandine’s hands without a second thought.
Holding those eggs, Celandine felt the warmth seep straight into her chest.
Things were tight these days, and eggs were practically treasure.
“Raina, thanks.”
Celandine Sullivan didn’t bother pretending. Right now, her body needed all the help it could get.
She peeled the egg slowly, almost like she was unwrapping something precious.
Raina Morrison kept watching her, lips trembling, opening and closing like she had a dozen things stuck in her throat. Finally, she burst out crying.
“Celandine, I’m so sorry. I can’t do anything for you… And my stepmother’s no good either. She’s got every coin locked in her fist. I wanted to scrape together a little money for you, but I couldn’t even manage that.”
Celandine took a small bite of the egg white and softened her voice. “Hey, don’t cry. None of this is on you.”
Raina wiped her face, still fuming. “It’s all my brother’s fault anyway! If it weren’t for him, our house wouldn’t be such a mess!”
Celandine paused mid‑peel, digging through the original memories.
Marcus Morrison.
Captain of the Special Operations Unit in the military district. The Morrison Clan’s pride. A legend in the compound.
Rumor had it the guy stood a full meter ninety, packed solid with muscle, strong enough to lift two grown men with one hand—basically a real‑life war god.
“What happened to your brother?” she asked, sounding casual on purpose.
Raina sniffed and answered, “Don’t even start. He was hurt on a mission a while back. His lower body… it’s done.”
Celandine raised a brow. “Done?”
“Yeah. The doctor said it’s nerve damage. That part… doesn’t work anymore. And they say he won’t be able to have kids.”
Raina’s face scrunched with worry. “What’s worse is, the whole thing messed him up. His temper’s scary now.”
“He used to just be chilly. Now he’s like a lit fuse—anyone goes near him, boom.”
“These days he’s been meeting girls in the compound, and he’s scared off a dozen already. Just now he blew up at home, flipped the whole table, and now he’s hiding out in the military guest house. Nobody can talk any sense into him.”
"My parents have been so stressed about this that I swear a few more strands of hair turned white overnight. The whole house feels like someone put a lid over it—quiet and suffocating," Raina murmured, her voice getting smaller as she spoke. The weight of everything seemed to press her down again.
But she didn’t notice that across from her, Celandine had a completely different reaction. Her eyes, still a bit hazy from the fever earlier, suddenly caught a sharp gleam.
Can’t have kids?
That meant no risking her life in childbirth in a place where contraception barely existed and giving birth felt like gambling with death. Honestly, that sounded like a blessing.
Bad temper?
That she could handle—as long as he didn’t raise a hand against her, she had more than enough ways to deal with a man’s temper.
What mattered most was Marcus Morrison’s identity.
A military officer, and not a low-ranking one.
If she married him, that would be a military marriage. And breaking a military marriage was a crime. Even if her stepmother had guts made of steel, she still wouldn’t dare try to sell an officer’s wife to some fool in the next village.
Besides, the Morrison Clan held real power in this region. No one around here dared provoke them.
Celandine finished both boiled eggs in a few quick bites, warmth spreading through her empty stomach. Strength started trickling back into her limbs.
She lifted her gaze. Those eyes that had looked foggy just moments ago were suddenly clear and piercing.
"Raina, where’s your brother right now?"
Raina blinked, caught off guard, and answered automatically, "He… he’s in the guesthouse at the military district, third floor, last room down the hallway."
"Take me to him."
Celandine pushed aside the worn-out quilt, revealing her long, slender legs. Too slender, really—starvation had left her looking fragile—but her skin was pale to the point of glowing.
Her ankle still had a small scrape from earlier, a bead of blood standing out stark against her fair skin.
Raina’s eyes went wide as she waved her hands frantically. "No way! Celandine, are you still running a fever? My brother’s temper is exploding right now. Even my dad won’t go near him! If you show up like this, you’re basically walking into a death trap!"
She leaned closer, lowering her voice as if Marcus might hear her from miles away. "His temper is really scary. Last time a girl tried to pour him a glass of water, he glared at her so hard she burst into tears on the spot."