The raw welt around Vera Holden’s neck burned like fire. That pain was what dragged her awake.
She lay in a freezing little side room made of packed mud. The coarse bedding under her was hard as a millstone, and the air smelled of damp mildew mixed with the bitter stink of boiled herbs.
The second she opened her eyes, memories that did not belong to her came crashing in like a flood—this was the 1970s. The girl whose body she now wore had been sold by her own father and stepmother for an eight-hundred-yuan bride price to a crippled, blind ex-soldier. Humiliated and desperate, the original Vera had ended her life with a hemp rope.
And she—Vera Holden, who had clawed her way through five brutal years in an apocalypse base—had been caught in an explosion while fighting over supplies. One blink later, she had become this pitiful girl with the same name.
Voices arguing in the main room came clearly through the mud wall. One man, one woman. Both sounded like they were holding back hard.
"When she wakes up, find a couple of aunties and send her back to the Holden house."
The man’s voice was low, rough with illness, but every word was firm, leaving no room to bargain.
"How can we do that?" The woman’s voice jumped up sharply, then dropped again, already trembling with tears. "Eight hundred yuan for the bride price! I emptied out everything I had and borrowed from half the village to scrape that together! If we send her back, there’s no way we’re getting that money back. What are you going to do then?"
"I never told you to spend it."
There came the faint rustle of cloth being clenched tight. The man on the bed was clearly worked up. "I, Victor Ashford, would rather rot right here on this kang than do something as rotten as forcing a girl into marriage. She was pushed here by her family. She already tried hanging herself. We saved her today, sure—but what about tomorrow? I’m already a useless wreck. Am I supposed to drag some young woman down with me too?"
Vera pushed herself upright with one hand braced on the edge of the kang and rubbed the stiff back of her neck with her fingers.
She could tell now. The man speaking was Victor Ashford, the original girl’s husband in name only.
She had heard about him in the memories. He used to be one of the army’s best. Then he injured his spine and his eyes during a mission. Paralyzed. Blind.
His elder sister, Gloria Caldwell, couldn’t bear to see her little brother like that. She gritted her teeth, scraped together the bride price, and bought Vera from the Holden family, all so there’d be someone to look after him.
But this man had more backbone than she had expected.
"I’m not doing this because I want to hurt anybody. I’m scared no one will be there for you!" Gloria’s crying finally broke loose. "I’ve got my own home, my own children, my husband’s parents to care for. How can I stay here watching over you every day? Have you forgotten what happened before? You called for water for half an hour and nobody came. You knocked over the thermos and scalded your legs till they blistered all over. I’m your sister. How am I supposed to stand by and watch you suffer yourself to death?"
The room went quiet for a few seconds before the man spoke again, lower than before.
"Gloria, this is my life. If I can live, I live. If I can’t..." He paused, then finished in a dull voice, "I won’t drag anybody down with me."
"What nonsense are you talking?" Gloria cried, smacking her thigh in frustration. "You’re only twenty-six! You’ve still got years ahead of you! And besides, do you even need me to tell you what kind of people the Holden family are? Her father and stepmother are bloodsuckers. If she goes back, do you think she’ll have a decent day? At least staying here means she’ll get enough to eat. Isn’t that better than going back there to work like a beast?"
"That’s her road to walk. I can’t choose it for her." Victor’s tone did not bend in the least. "Later on, I’ll trouble the uncles and aunties to make the trip and send her back. As for the bride price..." He let out a slow breath. "I’ll count it as a debt to you, Gloria. I’ll pay it back little by little."
Several sighs rose in the room.
Prescott Ashford, the brigade leader, was there, along with a few clan elders. None of them knew whether to keep persuading or stop.
Everybody understood the reasoning. A healthy young woman marrying into this and spending the rest of her life tied to a blind, paralyzed man—who could call that easy? But with Victor in this condition, if no one stayed close and cared for him, he truly would not manage.
And then there was the Holden family. Those two parents of hers were the sort who’d skin you alive and call it kindness. Sending her back really did feel like tossing her into a pit of fire.
"Liezi, think it over one more time," one of the aunties said softly, trying again. "If that Holden girl goes back, who knows where she’ll be sold off to next."
"No need to persuade me."
The words had barely fallen when the wooden door of the side room creaked open.
Everyone turned at once.
There, in the doorway, stood a thin young woman. Her rough cloth jacket was wrinkled all over. The red mark circling her neck was shocking to look at. Her face was pale as paper, but her eyes were bright—too bright—and there was not a trace of the weak, frightened look people expected from someone who had just tried to die.
"I’m not going back."
Vera stood there with one hand on the doorframe. Her voice was still faint, but every word came out clear. "I’m willing to stay."
The whole room went silent in an instant.
Victor also turned his head sharply toward her voice. In front of him there was only thick, endless darkness. He could only judge where she stood by sound alone, and his brows drew tightly together.
"Girl... you, you mean that?" Gloria was the first to react. She rushed over in a few quick steps and grabbed Vera’s hand, her own palm slick with sweat. "Have you really thought this through? This isn’t child’s play!"
Vera nodded. Gloria was gripping so hard it hurt, but she did not pull away. "I’ve thought it through."
"Girl, don’t go making a foolish choice just because your head’s a mess right now." Prescott Ashford frowned as he spoke. "You just tried to take your own life, and now you turn around and say you want to stay. Did somebody pressure you? Don’t be scared. The brigade will stand up for you."
Vera lifted her eyes and looked over everyone in the room. In the end, her gaze settled on the man sitting on the kang, thin and worn down, yet still holding his back ramrod straight.
She had heard every word from next door.
Eight hundred yuan. In this day and age, that was a staggering sum. Gloria had nearly sold everything she had and borrowed all over the place to put it together. Yet Victor was ready to let it all go without a second thought. He would rather suffer through his own life than ruin that of a stranger. For that alone, staying here was better than crawling back into the wolves’ den that was the Holden home.
She had survived five years in the apocalypse. What hardship had she not endured? Taking care of someone was nothing. Besides, she still had the supplies in her space and her abilities. His legs and his eyes might not be beyond saving after all.
"I was thinking myself into a dead end before." Her tone was steady as she gave them a reason that sounded natural enough. "Only after dying once did I understand it. Going back to the Holden house is the real road with no way out. If I stay here, at least I can earn my food with my own hands. I’m willing to look after Comrade Victor Ashford. This is my choice. Nobody forced me."
The frown on Victor’s face deepened.
He leaned slightly forward toward the sound of her voice. His pale face stayed almost expressionless, but his voice was cold as winter ice.
"Do you know what staying here means?"
"I’m paralyzed. I’m blind. I can’t do a single thing without someone helping me—eating, drinking, pissing, shitting. I’m a complete waste of a man. This kind of life isn’t for a day or two. It’s for a whole lifetime."
"How old are you? Twenty-four. Your road ahead is still long. Don’t make this kind of choice on a burst of impulse. And don’t think you owe me anything. I, Victor Ashford—even if I die—won’t take advantage of a young woman like this."
He didn’t believe her.
He didn’t believe that someone who had wanted so badly to escape could change her mind overnight. Either his sister had frightened her into it, or there was some other concern holding her back.
The moment she loosened her stance, he would immediately have someone send her away.
