Whoosh—
A stabbing pain tore through Lydia Clark’s body, so sharp it made her clench her teeth just to keep from screaming.
As her mind snapped back into focus, the scene before her froze her in place—familiar portraits on the wall, an old wooden table and chairs, ceramic kettle on the stove...
Wasn’t this April 13, 1973?
She—she’d come back to life?
As the memories of her past life hit her like a wave, tears streamed down her face, and the hatred inside her practically made her jaw go numb from clenching so hard.
Her father, George Clark, had been a professor at Haicheng University. Just because of his “background,” he was sent to the countryside.
Lydia, who had been pampered since birth, couldn’t take the rural hardships and protested every day.
In the end, the Clarks had no choice but to arrange a marriage for her with the Baileys—a “clean background” family who owed them a favor.
But before she even officially joined the Bailey household, Ethan Bailey, who was off serving in the army, brought back a woman and a child with him.
Claimed they were the widow and son of a fallen comrade who saved his life. Said they needed a place to stay, so they moved right in.
Lydia had wanted to scream from frustration. But she didn't dare say anything—if she spoke up, she’d be labeled ungrateful, with people pointing fingers and condemning her publicly.
And things only got worse. The very next year, her three brothers were delivering grain to the town when the ox cart overturned on a mountain path. None of their bodies were ever found. Her parents, devastated, passed soon after.
Lydia was left alone, and the Baileys didn’t hold back anymore.
That woman and her son ended up staying for twenty long years. Later, Lydia finally realized Sandra Wilson wasn’t just a comrade’s widow—she was Ethan Bailey’s first love, someone he'd grown up with.
Lydia had busted her back trying to be the “good daughter-in-law.” Nursing a paralyzed father-in-law, dealing with a foul-mouthed mother-in-law, babysitting a petty sister-in-law, and constantly being picked at by Ethan’s siblings.
She was only in her early forties but looked like she’d lived past sixty.
And the Baileys had the nerve to blame her for not having kids—calling her “a hen that lays no eggs.” But the whole truth? Ethan Bailey was the problem. Every single one of them knew it.
Still, they kept piling work on her day and night, running her ragged.
She was so naive, she even gave up all her dowry to help prop up their household.
And when the truth finally hit her, she snapped. Drenched their house in gasoline and lit the match—took herself and the whole lying bunch with it.
Now, Lydia forced herself to breathe and stay calm. She wasn’t married yet, there was still time to turn things around.
No more playing the fool. She was done with bloodsuckers like them.
But first—every single thing they took from her, she was taking it all back. Not even sparing a penny.
“Lydia Clark, your man’s back!” Helen Zephyr shrieked from outside. “What’re you dawdling in there for? Want a beating?”
Pick him up? Sure, why not.
Lydia stepped out, her face calm, her eyes stone cold.
At the gate stood three people, bags and boxes stacked around them.Ethan Bailey stood tall in his military uniform, clean-shaven and neatly groomed. He had close-cropped hair, sharp brows, and overall, a pretty decent look.
Next to him was a woman and her child. She wore a faded blue blouse, the collar pinned with a small glass button, paired with black polyester pants and shiny new black cloth shoes.
She was holding the hand of a little boy, dressed in an old military jacket, navy corduroy pants, and a blue cap. The kid kept pulling faces at Lydia Clark.
Helen Zephyr lit up the moment she saw them. "Ethan, Sandra, Kevin! You’re finally back. Tired from the trip?"
Sandra Wilson put on a sweet smile. "Not at all, godma. It was just fine."
"Grandma!" Kevin Thornfield beamed and waved cheerfully.
"My, Kevin’s grown so big! Come here, let grandma give you a hug." Helen pulled him into her arms and kissed his cheek.
Then she spotted Lydia frozen at the door. Her face dropped and the nagging started right away. "Why are you just standing there? Go help your man with the luggage."
"You’re so clueless. Got no sense at all."
"Sleeping half the day like some lazy sow. Useless!"
Lydia shot back without missing a beat. "Your man? Keep dreaming, lady."
"We’re not even legally married. Careful what you say—accusing me like that’s slander."
Helen was stumped, staring like Lydia had grown horns. Just yesterday, she was a pushover. Now she talks back?
"Lydia, what kind of attitude is that?" Ethan frowned, staring at Lydia’s pretty face, voice full of disapproval.
He had assumed, being the daughter of a university professor, she’d be gentle and well-mannered. Didn’t expect this sharp tongue.
They weren’t even through the door, and she was already mouthing off to her future mother-in-law. Unheard of.
Lydia folded her arms, eyes fierce. "Let me break it down for you. First off, I’m not part of your family. These past few days, your mom’s had me taking care of your paralyzed father—and I haven’t seen a dime."
"Second, she tells me to cook but gives me nothing for groceries. What, am I supposed to pull food outta thin air?"
"Third, I’ve been the one footing the bill for meals. Since we’re not married yet, it’s time to settle accounts."
"If you all want to act like nothing’s owed, fine. I'll take it up with the neighborhood office or go knock on your unit’s door and see what your superiors think."
Ethan's face darkened as soon as she mentioned the unit.
"Lydia, come on. We’re practically family. Why nitpick over stuff like this? Marriage is about sharing life, not counting nickels."
Sandra chimed in, her voice as sweet as honey. "You shouldn’t say things like that, or folks will think you have no respect for your godmother."
Lydia knew her way too well—this woman loved playing the affection card. Last time around, it was this same act that boxed Lydia in.
Lydia ended up doing all the dirty work while Sandra walked off with the halo.Lydia Clark shot her a frosty glance. "Who do you think you are? Since when are our family matters any of your business?"
"I... I just..."
Sandra Wilson instantly put on her helpless look, peeking at Ethan Bailey with teary eyes.
"Lydia, her husband died saving my life. They only have each other now," Ethan said, tone heavy with guilt. "I was thinking maybe they could stay with us for a while."
Lydia nearly scoffed right then. “A while”? That “bit” of time had turned into over twenty years!
If that's not playing house under everyone's nose, then what is?
And that supposed chance to join the army? Went straight to Sandra and her kid. They called it reasonable—said Sandra had army experience, knew some medical stuff, was more suited for the army life.
As if folks forgot her own grandpa was an experienced traditional doctor. She'd studied with him growing up and even trained in Western medicine. If anyone was more qualified, it was her. Hands down.
But Ethan? He'd dumped this whole mess of sick and old relatives on her shoulders and waltzed back to the army with his precious Sandra, living easy while she played nursemaid.
Just thinking about it made Lydia furious—so angry she almost wanted to slap her past self. How could she have been so blind?
At that moment, Sandra forced out a few tears. "Lydia, I swear, as soon as I find another place, I'll move out. I won’t be in your way."
And Helen Zephyr snapped, “Why beg her for permission? This is my house! I’ll decide who gets to stay!”
“My sweet girl, you and Kevin are staying right here. I’d like to see anyone try and throw you out!"
"Fine, do whatever you want. But no one touches my room. And the money I fronted? You better pay me back now!" Lydia’s tone turned cold. "Or I’m dragging this out for the whole neighborhood to see."
At the mention of money, Helen Zephyr deflated almost instantly.
Ethan stared in disbelief. "Lydia Clark, your dad’s a university professor! How can you be so... unreasonable?"
Lydia raised her voice. "Unreasonable? Me?"
"You’re bullying your would-be daughter-in-law and bringing random strangers into the house—and I’m the one being unreasonable?"
"I’ve had it. Push me again and see what happens!"
Her voice rang through the yard, loud and sharp, drawing curious eyes from the neighbors. Heads started poking out from windows and doorways, whispers already spreading.
Right then, moaning noises came from Helen’s room again. Her husband was still lying there in dirty clothes and soiled sheets, stinking up the whole place and itching like mad.
Normally, Helen would’ve gone back cursing about the mess. But the second Lydia brought up money, she scurried back inside without a word.
Lydia calmly turned to Ethan. "You're a grown man, right? Don’t tell me you’re planning to skip out on a debt?"
Ethan’s face twisted. "Lydia, could you keep it down a little? Maybe you don’t care about your image, but I do!"
He barely recognized this woman. She used to be all soft and gentle, doing everything just to please him. Told him she'd do anything, as long as she could marry him.
But now? Now it was like looking at a stranger.
