"Dad, I’m absolutely not agreeing to this."
In Capital City, inside the Morrison family home.
A well‑dressed middle‑aged woman stood stiffly in the study, her face tight, clearly trying to keep her temper down.
Mr. Morrison sat behind his desk, calm but imposing. "It’s already settled. Clarence agreed to it himself."
"No. You can’t just decide this. You’ll ruin his future. He could marry someone with a better background." Zoey Fletcher’s voice rose despite her trying to hold it in.
Mr. Morrison gave her a slow, cool glance. "So you’re blaming me now?"
"Dad, I’m sorry, that’s not what I meant." Zoey quickly realized she’d said the wrong thing. "But how can Clarence marry some girl from the countryside? She’s nowhere near his level."
Mr. Morrison’s brows drew down. "What’s wrong with a country girl? She’s honest and steady. Enough—there’s nothing more to discuss. It’s decided."
Zoey opened her mouth again, but in the end, she just swallowed her frustration and walked out of the study, her steps sharp with annoyance.
Mr. Morrison closed his eyes for a moment, letting out a long sigh.
…
Cordia Whitmore slowly opened her eyes, staring blankly at the wooden beams above.
Truth was, she’d already woken up earlier.
The moment she’d first opened her eyes, she’d been so startled she shot straight up in bed.
"No, no… I must’ve opened them wrong. Let’s try that again."
So she lay back down, shifted into another position, and opened her eyes once more.
Her hair fell into her face. She lifted a hand and pushed it aside.
"This is bad…" she muttered.
Those crisscrossed beams overhead, the uneven dirt floor, the walls with bricks showing through, and the big heavy old cabinet and table…
Where on earth was she?
Cordia Whitmore happened to glance at the old wall calendar hanging by the door, and her eyes opened wide in an instant.
1975, October 25th.
Wait—what? Did she… actually time‑travel?
She pinched her own arm hard. "Ow— that hurts!"
Just a moment ago, she’d been driving the brand‑new RV her parents bought, taking them on a family trip to celebrate her graduation.
Then that baby stroller suddenly rolled onto the road—she jerked the wheel on instinct, and everything went black.
And now she woke up… here?
If she crossed over—then where were her parents? Were they alright?
Cordia shot upright, practically leaping off the bed and shoving her feet into the nearest pair of shoes.
No time to look around carefully—she started rummaging through everything she could reach.
The room wasn’t big, just enough space for one person.
She yanked open the door—another small room next to hers, completely empty.
A table with some stuff on it, but she didn’t bother examining any of it. None of it was a person anyway.
She dashed into the kitchen, then sprinted out to the yard, even forced herself to check the foul‑smelling outhouse. She turned the entire little courtyard upside down.
It was certain—besides her, there wasn’t a single human soul here.
Something was wrong. This had to be a dream.
If she just slept a bit more, she’d wake up on the comfy bed in the RV…
Or maybe straight up on her soft mattress back home. Maybe she never even went on that road trip—maybe all of this was just a weird dream.
Cordia rushed back inside, flopped onto the bed, grabbed the blanket, and pulled it over her head like it was a lifeline.
Sleep. Just sleep!
She tossed and turned a few times, then abruptly sat up again.
She couldn’t fall asleep. Her head felt like a tangled mess.
Out of nowhere, a sharp pain slammed into her skull.
She collapsed onto the bed, both hands clamped over her temples.
Right after that, flashes of images swept through her mind, one memory after another pouring in like a flood.
It took quite a while before Cordia Whitmore finally caught her breath again.
No doubt about it—she had really crossed over, dropped straight into someone else’s body.
The original girl had the same name as hers, Cordia Whitmore, nineteen years old.
She’d grown up without parents, raised by her grandparents.
Her grandmother passed early this year; a few days ago, her grandfather followed.
Before Cliff Lawrence took his last breath, he arranged a marriage for the original Cordia. The groom was the grandson of his old regiment commander.
Though saying Cliff Lawrence arranged it wasn’t quite right.
Truth was, the girl had fallen for the boy first.
Some time back, Cliff Lawrence suddenly fell seriously ill and was sent to a hospital in Rongcheng.
One of his old army buddies recognized him and notified his former commander.
The commander’s grandson happened to be stationed with his unit near Langcheng, not far from Rongcheng, so he came on behalf of his grandfather, who was living far away in Capital City, to visit Cliff Lawrence.
"Didn’t expect the commander to still remember me."
Cliff Lawrence lay on the hospital bed, looking at the handsome young officer in front of him, eyes brimming with tears.
The young officer bent slightly, speaking in a warm, steady tone. "Grandpa says you need to focus on getting better. He’s waiting to bring you to Capital City for a visit."
"Good, good, good," Cliff Lawrence said, nodding over and over.
When the young officer left, Cliff Lawrence finally noticed his granddaughter standing off to the side, silent, her cheeks flushed bright red, her eyes glued to the young man’s retreating back.
Cliff Lawrence let his gaze sweep over Clarence Morrison’s tall, upright frame and that sharp, heroic look on the young man’s face. Then he glanced back at his granddaughter, who looked completely dazed, and a few thoughts naturally rose in his mind.
"Cordia, what do you think of this young man?" he asked weakly.
The original Cordia’s eyes had lit up like stars, her whole face shining with hope. She nodded so fast it was a wonder her neck didn’t snap. Her thoughts couldn’t have been more obvious.
Cliff had always loved this granddaughter the most. Every time he thought about what would happen to her when he was gone, his heart clenched tight.
He and his wife had raised her since she was small, giving in to her at every turn.
She grew up pretty, and her standards climbed right along with her looks.
Nineteen years old already, and in their village it was rare for a girl her age not to be engaged.
But Cordia never liked any of the boys who came around, and he couldn’t do a thing about it.
Then early this year, his wife passed unexpectedly, and Cliff’s worries only grew heavier. He feared that one day he might go just as suddenly, leaving the girl all alone with no one to rely on.
After that, he kept thinking he had to find her a decent family, someone who’d treat her well.
But he searched and asked around, and still couldn’t find anyone suitable.
Cordia picked and chose, dismissing one after another, and though Cliff worried himself sick, he still couldn’t bring himself to force her hand.