"Ouch, that hurts..." Clara Jennings rubbed the back of her head gently as her mind started to clear.

She was just about to sit up when a young, trembling voice cried out, "Please stop hitting her! She won’t make it if you keep this up!"

The first thing she saw was a frail little boy, shielding her with his tiny body.

Clara blinked in confusion. Who was this child?

She tried to recall anything, but her head throbbed in pain at the effort.

"Hah! And I thought you lot were some delicate noble ladies. If you slow us down again, you’ll see what happens," barked a fierce-looking officer, his face full of scars and anger.

The boy flinched in fear, and next to him knelt a little girl, no older than five, mimicking him as she kowtowed to the officers, choked cries spilling from her lips. "Please, sir. Please have mercy..."

The words hung in the still air, shaking.

Clara glanced around. The landscape was barren and desolate. Everyone was in chains and tattered prison clothes, their faces haggard and worn.

That’s when it hit her—she’d gotten pulled into the world of a novel.

She was now a nobody, a character so minor she’d be dead within a few days in the plot.

What had the book said again?

Oh, right: "On the eighth of May, Year 137 of the Great Yan dynasty, the Marquis Hua’s household was exiled. Before they even left the capital, over half were already dead or dying."

And she had apparently dropped into that exact day—the start of all that mess.

Well, fantastic. Thanks a lot, fate. Because of you, I now get to enjoy death in four different seasons...

The scowling officer swept his sharp gaze over the crowd and growled, "Move it! Try running again, and she’ll be your example."

No one dared look him in the eye. Heads lowered, and fear spread across the convicts like wildfire.

Clara let out a sigh. Back in the modern world, all she did was stop to watch a street brawl.

Then out of nowhere, someone shoved her hard—and lucky her, she smacked the back of her head.

Next thing she knew, boom, she’d landed in this messed-up story.

She had already absorbed the original Clara’s memories, and yeah... she couldn’t help but silently roast the girl: Serves you right.

She had a decent life and still went looking for drama? What was she thinking?

Especially when her little brother-in-law was supposed to grow up into a powerful military prince in the future—that’s a gold mine you should latch onto!

The old Clara had panicked over the tough journey, an injured husband, and two so-called burdens—her husband’s younger siblings.

Add in Ms. Kilgore’s nasty whispers, and she ended up abandoning her husband’s family. That’s what led to the mess Clara now found herself in.

Two bumps on two people in two different universes ended up swapping their fates—what were the odds?

Just then, the young voice called out again, a bit braver this time, "Sister-in-law, you're finally awake!"

Clara turned her head, startled.

That small boy was now smiling through tears, eyes sparkling like he’d just seen the sun after a storm.

His face was smudged with dirt, and his clothes were basically rags—obviously he'd struggled a lot.

Clara opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. She wasn’t even sure what to say.

So instead, she pulled both kids into her arms, trying to offer some comfort, while shooting a look of warning at the officers.

Those two kids were Ethan and Lila Mitchell—her husband Noah’s siblings.

Half-siblings, technically. Ethan was twelve, Lila only five.

Their mother, Mrs. Newton, had died giving birth to Lila.

She hadn’t been high-ranking, but even a low-status mother was still a serious loss.

Just look at Ms. Kilgore next to them. The way she clung to her own kids like lifelines said it all.

Sure she was here now—Clara exhaled softly, barely audibly.Ugh, so she really did time-travel… but what about her husband now?

While she was still trying to figure things out, the man lying next to her turned his head slightly and looked right at her. His eyes were sharp, like he could see straight through her—familiar, too.

Yep, no doubt about it. That knowing look? Definitely her man, her “puppy” in disguise.

Clara Jennings took a moment to study his new face—sculpted jawline, deep-set eyes, and a nose that looked like it had been made by a master artist. Honestly, this version of him beat his modern self by a mile. She somehow fell for him all over again.

If she ignored those pale lips from the injury, his messy hair, and the blood-stained clothes, he’d pretty much be perfect.

Then she noticed something odd—Noah Mitchell’s posture was kind of off. He was lying on his side in a really uncomfortable way. Digging through the bits of memory she’d gained, Clara suddenly remembered: the original husband had been dragged out of jail and beaten with thirty strokes. His backside had basically exploded—no wonder he couldn’t walk and had to lie awkwardly in the cart.

So... looks like the beating finished off the original guy and opened the window for her husband to time-travel in. Couple time-traveling together? Not the worst thing.

Finally taking in her surroundings, Clara saw that all this time, it had been just two little kids—Gabriel and Lila—caring for them on this journey. Even though she now "was" the original woman, she couldn’t help but think, “You really are something else.”

Knowing things were this bad, Clara started to panic a bit. She needed to check if her space was still with her.

Focusing a little, she was relieved to spot it in her mind’s eye.

Thank goodness—it was still there. That space held everything she and Noah owned. Back in the modern world, they’d been newlyweds with fat bank accounts. Basically rich kids burning through money like crazy.

But those sweet days had been wrecked by the same nightmare haunting them both.

In the dream, everything looked straight out of a period drama: old courtyards, cobbled streets, people in traditional outfits, and screaming chaos all around. Now that she thought back… yeah, that was totally a house raid.

Everything changed when Clara accidentally cut her finger and saw the ancestral ring react. Only then did they realize the dream had been a warning. That ring? It opened up a space they could plant stuff in.

They went on a shopping binge, piling up supplies worth millions from the modern world—food, clothes, tools, you name it. They bought it all.

Remembering that space made her feel a little safer. Mentally, Clara focused again and pictured the floating ring in her mind. Then she finally exhaled. Good. At least they wouldn’t starve on the road.

Next, she turned her attention inward to check her cultivation.

That ring hadn’t just given them storage space—it came with a whole library of cultivation techniques. She and Noah had jumped at the chance to dive in headfirst.

Lucky for them, they even brought their cultivation progress to this world.

Noah had a lightning spiritual root and was totally into the practice. He was already at Qi Condensation Level Two. Clara herself had a fire root, but she wasn’t exactly obsessed with training. She'd only reached Level One—but hey, that was still decent. At least she had a way to defend herself now.

Just then, Gabriel looked over at her still sitting dazed and said, “Sister-in-law, are you alright? Why aren’t you saying anything?”

Snapping back, she gave a slightly awkward smile and said, “Oh, must’ve hit my head earlier. Still a little out of it.”