Chapter 1 — Divorced and Reborn: My New Beginning

When I regained consciousness, a divorce agreement was already resting on the table. A soldier, an associate of my husband, stood outside the door with a chillingly indifferent expression.

“Commander Lu says that once you have finished your tantrum, you should sign the papers.”

The original owner of this body had waited six years, wept for six years, and ultimately reduced her own daughter to a pawn in a desperate bid to win back a husband who never looked her way. I looked at the child shivering with fever on the bed, picked up the pen, and signed my name. They all assumed that without Lu Tranh, I would be unable to survive. Yet, in the years to come, I would open shops, build workshops, and lead my daughter into an increasingly prosperous life. And that iron-willed officer who had once insisted on divorce would one day block my doorway, his eyes bloodshot, pleading, “Su He, I regret it.”

I simply laughed. “Commander Lu, there is a long queue, and you are not even close to the front.”

***

[Chapter 1]

When I arrived in this world, I was gripping a chipped enamel mug. Hot water spilled across the floor. Outside stood a young soldier in a military uniform, his brows knit so tightly they could have crushed a fly. He spoke coldly: “Sister-in-law, Commander Lu told me to deliver the divorce papers.”

My mind buzzed—not because of the divorce, but because I realized I had transmigrated into a military romance novel set in the past. The female lead, Diep Dung, was gentle, sensible, and intuitive, a pillar of the military performance troupe. The male lead, Lu Tranh, was a young, decorated commander—calm, restrained, and destined for greatness. And I? I was Su He, the rustic, uneducated wife Lu Tranh was forced to marry six years ago. On their wedding day, Lu Tranh received an emergency deployment order and had not returned once in six years. The original Su He had stayed at her in-laws’ house, enduring constant cold shoulders and insults, yet she remained obsessed with a husband she barely knew. She wrote letters, wept, caused scenes, and begged for news. When she heard of Diep Dung’s presence by Lu Tranh’s side, she finally snapped. She took her daughter to the military base to cause a scene, ignoring the child’s raging fever just to force Lu Tranh to appear. It was a freezing, rainy night. The child suffered brain damage from the illness, the in-laws cast them out, and Lu Tranh grew utterly disgusted with her. In the end, the mother went insane, and the daughter died.

A shudder ran through me as I clenched my fingers. From the inner room came the sound of a child’s suppressed coughing. I turned to see a frail girl curled up on the heated brick bed. Her face was flushed with fever, her lips cracked, yet her eyes were fixed on me. There was no warmth in her gaze—only fear. My heart ached. This child was Lu Niem He, nicknamed Duong Duong. She was five. Whenever her mother was berated by her grandmother, she would pull the child close and cry, “Your father doesn’t want me, and he doesn’t want you, either.” From a young age, the child had been taught she was nothing but a burden.

The soldier at the door lost his patience. “Sister-in-law, the Commander said if you have conditions, state them, but stop using the child to make a scene.”

I felt a surge of cold fury and laughed. “Where is the pen?”

He blinked, surprised. “What?”

“The pen to sign the papers.”

Clearly, he hadn’t expected me to agree so decisively. He fumbled and produced a fountain pen. I scanned the agreement. It was explicit: after the divorce, Lu Tranh would provide twenty yuan a month in child support, custody would belong to me, and he offered a three-hundred-yuan settlement. In this era, that was a significant sum, but every word felt like a calculated move to bribe me into vanishing. Without hesitation, I signed my name. I pushed the papers back.

“Tell Lu Tranh: send the money as agreed, and the child stays with me. From now on, we live our own separate lives. Do not disturb each other.”

The soldier’s expression shifted, disbelief replacing his irritation. “Sister-in-law, have you really thought this through?”

I ignored him, turning to scoop up Duong Duong. The girl was burning with fever and terrifyingly light. She whispered, “Mother, I won’t look for Father anymore.”

My throat tightened. “We aren’t looking anymore. I am taking you to see a doctor.”

My mother-in-law, Hua Gui Lan, burst in upon hearing the commotion. She snatched the agreement, her eyes widening. “You actually signed it?”

I held the child tightly. “I did.”

Her look of joy quickly morphed into a scowl. “Then get out today. The Lu house and the Lu grain are not for you.”

I stared at her. The original Su He had been a beast of burden for six years—farming, raising pigs, washing clothes, and raising the child. Now, with a wave of her hand, the woman wanted to cast us out with nothing. A fire burned in my chest, but with Duong Duong’s fever, I could not afford a shouting match.

“Fine. Give me back my dowry.”

Hua Gui Lan’s eyes darted away. “What dowry? That’s all been spent years ago.”

I glanced toward the door, knowing the soldier was still listening. I raised my voice. “My father gave me three cotton quilts, a silver bracelet, and twenty yuan for my emergency fund. Everyone in the village knows it. If you claim it is gone, I will take my daughter to the squad headquarters and demand they investigate the theft.”

Her face twitched. She feared losing face more than anything—especially the idea of being branded an abusive family by the military. Gritting her teeth, she stormed into the back room and threw a bundle of rags at me. “Take it and get out!”

I didn’t bother picking up the soiled bundle from the dirt. I looked at the soldier. “Comrade, please serve as my witness. I am taking only what is rightfully mine, not stealing from the Lu family.”

The young man’s face went red. He leaned down, picked up the bundle, and handed it to me. “Sister-in-law, let me take you to the clinic.”

I accepted the bundle. “Thank you.”

Hua Gui Lan shrieked behind us, “Leave the protection of a man and see how long you last!”

I didn’t look back. Duong Duong rested her head on my shoulder, her voice barely a breath. “Mother, where are we going?”

I gently stroked her back. “To live our own lives.”

[Chapter 2]

After examining Duong Duong, the doctor’s expression was grim. “If you had arrived any later, the fever would have caused permanent damage.”

Cold sweat beaded on my back. After the doctor administered an injection and provided medicine, I counted the items in my bundle. The twenty-yuan emergency fund was intact. The silver bracelet was there. But the three quilts had been reduced to a single tattered blanket. I gripped the silver bracelet, clear on one thing: to survive, I had to earn money. While Duong Duong slept, the soldier who had brought us remained standing outside the door.