Jing Yao woke up, her head throbbing and her body heavy. Sounds drifted from beyond the door, muffled and indistinct, making her feel disoriented. She slowly lifted her hand, instinctively rubbing her temples, and gradually, clarity returned.
She opened her eyes. Long eyelashes fluttered like delicate wings before settling. The room was stark and sterile—white walls, a grid-patterned ceiling—it looked like a hospital.
Her memories crashed over her: the plane, the sudden malfunction just after her last shoot…her face drained of color.
Wasn't she supposed to be dead?
And then, the strange, foreign memories filled her mind. She wasn't herself. She had transmigrated—into the body of a military wife.
A week after the original owner's marriage to Lu Zhihao, he had been sent on an emergency mission, leaving her in the care of Aunt Li, a neighbor. The woman whose body she now occupied had come from the countryside, had only completed high school, and was meek despite her enchanting beauty.
Her husband was immensely popular in the compound. Many had tried to catch his attention, even the niece of the political commissioner, yet he had remained indifferent.
Three days ago, Chen Yue, a striking member of the arts troupe, had visited, ostensibly to meet the "countryside bride." She mocked the original wife's lack of city sophistication, and the encounter ended with a push that caused the bride to fall and hit her head. Both women ended up in the hospital, though Chen Yue had feigned injury to avoid blame.
Sighing, Jing Yao reflected on the pitiful life of the original wife—an orphan, ridiculed by her husband's admirers, and trapped in a world she could barely navigate.
Nearby chatter pulled her from her thoughts. Three women sat across from her, dressed in faded military jackets of blue, green, and black, cracking sunflower seeds. Their eyes never left the bed in front of them.
"I wonder why Commander Lu married a girl from the countryside," one sneered. "Coming from a good family, yet she shamelessly clung to him."
"Exactly," the woman in green chimed in. "You wouldn't believe the tricks she played. Look at that body…she surely knows how to keep a man in bed." They laughed, cruel and careless.
"You don't know men like him," the third said. "She must know how to use her looks…a real vixen."
The one in black added, "I heard from my husband that Commander Lu's parents are high-ranking. They'd never accept a country bumpkin as their daughter-in-law."
Jing Yao closed her eyes. She could recall Lu Zhihao's face clearly now—something the original owner had never done, always keeping her gaze lowered.
What a waste…how could she have been so foolish? And as for the gossipers…she would see to it that their words had consequences.
"Enough talking," she said sharply, her voice cutting through the murmurs. "Continue, and I'll file a complaint."
The women froze.
"What are you talking about?" one demanded. "Did you hit your head and lose your mind?"
Jing Yao's gaze swept over them, icy and unflinching. "Yes, I hit my head, but my mind is fine. I heard every word—every insult. Calling me a country bumpkin? That's blatant discrimination. And your attempts to set up your cousin with my husband? That's sabotaging a military marriage."
Her gaze swept through them . "I recorded everything. Let's see how the disciplinary department handles lies, slander, and attempts to manipulate a military marriage ."
One by one, the women's faces went pale. They left without a word, knowing that a report could jeopardize their husbands' careers.
Watching them go, Jing Yao lay back, letting herself drift into sleep. As for her husband—she would wait. And when he returned, she would decide if he met her standards.
---