Early Autumn, 1974. Redflag Hamlet.

Inside a mud-walled, thatch-roofed house with four rooms and a little yard, several young girls’ voices rang out, thin and shaky.

"She... she looks like she’s stopped breathing."

"Don’t be scared... Auntie’s here. Come over to me."

Just then, a bitter voice cut straight through the girls’ sobbing.

"If she’s dead, she’s dead!"

It was Charles Morrison. His voice was icy, hard as frozen sleet in the dead of winter.

"Serves her right for trying to sell Auntie to that old widower!"

He’d heard it himself from those gossiping women in the village—the old man planning to buy Auntie had already beaten three wives to death before.

He drank, he gambled, he loafed around all day. A complete piece of trash.

And Auntie was only eleven.

Charles’s sallow little face was tight with hate as he glared at the woman lying on the ground.

His own mother.

The one who had stopped breathing after he shoved her.

"Charles... what happened today was all me. I did it. I didn’t want to get married... so I pushed your mother down."

At that, Charles’s whole face turned white with panic. He blurted out, "Auntie! No, it was me..."

He was the one who had rushed in and done it.

At that moment, nobody noticed that the person lying there with her eyes shut, the one everyone thought was dead, had started to breathe again, little by little.

"Mm..."

Vivian Morrison forced her eyes open. The back of her head throbbed so hard it felt like it was buzzing.

Damn. That meteor really did hit like a truck.

So that blow hadn’t killed her on the spot after all?

Vivian Morrison kept her face tight and suddenly snapped her eyes open.

Everything in front of her was strange, and so rough it almost felt unreal.

She was lying flat on the ground. The first thing she saw when she looked up was dry yellow thatch overhead, and a mud wall beside her with bits crumbling off.

What even was all this?

How had she ended up here?

Then, in the very next second, a flood of memories crashed straight into her mind.

This was the 1970s on the Blue Planet, and she had crossed over into a woman with the exact same name, Vivian Morrison.

Only the original Vivian Morrison had been shoved by her own son and died from the fall...

Wait a minute.

Her son?

Vivian Morrison’s fingers trembled with excitement.

Back on SQ Planet, someone of her low rank wasn’t even qualified to have a spouse, let alone children of her own.

And now, after one trip through time, she not only had a husband assigned to her, she had even been handed three human cubs.

The more she thought about it, the harder it was to stop the grin spreading across her face.

But...

As more and more of the original owner’s memories surfaced, the smile at the corner of Vivian Morrison’s mouth slowly froze.

That woman actually beat children.

And while the adults of the Morrison family were away, she had even secretly tried to sell off the Morrison family’s fourth child, the children’s aunt, Frostine Morrison.

It was downright vile.

When Vivian Morrison opened her eyes, Charles Morrison jumped so hard he nearly stumbled backward.

"You... you a person or a ghost?!"

Vivian finally gathered her senses and looked toward the three children huddled in the corner.

The one crying so hard her eyes were swollen red was the original owner's little daughter, Nora Morrison.

The slightly taller one, trying her best to act calm, was the Morrison family's fourth child, Frostine Morrison.

And the one standing in front, blocking the other two, the one glaring at her with the strongest hatred, the one who had accidentally pushed her to death, was the original owner's eldest son, Charles Morrison.

All three children were thin as twigs, all skin and bones, with heads that looked too big for their frail little bodies.

Vivian's heart clenched after just one look. She wanted to say something, anything, but then she saw it clearly in their eyes—hatred, and... fear.

Vivian let out a slow sigh.

Then she lifted her hand and slapped herself hard across the face with a sharp smack.

She hit herself so hard that one side of her face quickly puffed up.

The sound was so loud the three children all jolted at once.

"Did I scare you? Don't be afraid. From now on, I won't..."

Halfway through, Vivian's face suddenly turned white.

No... no, that's not right.

One was still missing!

Vivian shot to her feet at once. She didn't care that the three children were frightened all over again. In a panic, she rushed toward the cellar.

Damn it, how could she forget the Morrison family's fifth child?!

Winter Morrison was still locked in the cellar!

He already had autism. If she got there too late, something terrible might happen!