July, 1975.

Beijing.

The Parker family’s small Western-style house.

Emily Brooks stood by the coffee table, exuding the confidence of a mature woman. She handed George Parker the divorce papers she'd prepared long ago.

"As long as you agree to divorce me, I’ll go talk to Mr. Collins. He can help reduce it to just being sent down—no one will go to prison."

The Parkers had once been known around Beijing for their philanthropy.

After the state rolled out the "public-private partnership" policy, Mr. Parker’s father had handed over both the business and most of their assets to the government.

Because of that, the Parkers were labeled "red capitalists"—they all had jobs and even received fixed dividends for twenty years.

But just days ago, someone anonymously reported them.

Said they were connected to foreign contacts, even accused them of smuggling assets overseas.

At best, that meant forced relocation. At worst? Prison time.

The smuggling thing was made-up, but the Parkers did have extended family abroad.

Given the political climate, any foreign connection was a major red flag—it was safer to punish the innocent than let one get away.

Their family looked to be in for a rough ride.

Now, the Collins family had heavy hitters in both the military and government.

Emily once saved Mr. Collins’ life, and he owed her big-time. If he stepped in, things would be way easier for the Parkers.

Seeing George just stand there quietly, she nudged the paper closer to him.

"George, this isn’t the time to get all stubborn…"

Before she could finish, he snatched the papers and tore them to shreds.

Then slapped her, hard.

"Shut your mouth! Don’t think I don’t know it was YOU who made that report! You and Henry Collins have been sneaking around for three years—you think I’m blind? You two cheating rats!"

Still furious, he slapped her two more times.

"Trying to dump me and marry into the Collins family?! Dream on!"

If it weren’t for how powerful the Collins were, he would’ve stormed into their place with a weapon long ago.

His shouting echoed through the house, and Clara Parker looked up sharply. Her long bangs hung in her eyes, but nothing could block out the swollen red on her mom’s face... or the angry twist of her dad’s.

This exact scene, these exact words—familiarity hit her like a wave.

She realized she’d been reborn.

Back to the day the Parkers got reported, the day her mother pushed for divorce to save the family.

She instinctively touched her chest, feeling the thunderstruck peachwood pendant hanging there. That gave her a small sense of comfort.

Emily's ears were ringing from the hits, her face burning.

She knew George was boiling with rage—trying to explain wouldn’t help. She needed to hit where it hurt.

"Fine, don’t divorce me. But then we all go to prison—might as well say goodbye to the family line, too."

George’s brows twitched hard at that.

He thought of those capitalists years ago who’d been jailed because of foreign ties—hardly any came back out alive.

Sure, times were different now…

But what if they ran into someone inside who had a deep hatred for capitalists?

Emily saw the shift in his expression and felt a flicker of relief.

She turned to their sons. "James, Alex..."

She was just about to ask them to talk to their dad when their eldest daughter cut in.

Sarah Parker dropped to her knees in front of George with a thud.

"Dad, I know it looks bad that Mom's bringing up divorce now, but only the Collins can help us. Please just say yes."

James and Alex, terrified at the thought of prison, quickly followed up:"Dad, think about your unborn grandkid. Just go ahead and divorce Mom, will you?"

"Yeah, Dad, getting sent down is tough, but jail? That’s no joke. Pride won’t save you."

Exactly like last time.

After George Parker got talked into a corner by his two sons and one daughter, he finally gave in—reluctantly.

Clara Parker didn’t say a word the whole time.

In this family, all she was good for was working. Her opinion didn’t count.

Once Emily Brooks saw the divorce was settled, she felt like she could breathe again.

She cleaned up the bruises on her face, rewrote the divorce petition, and casually threw in her plan to take one of the daughters with her to the Collins house.

"George, I know I can’t take the boys, but taking one girl should be doable."

The man she was marrying was none other than Mr. Collins’s eldest son, Henry Collins.

Henry had three sons and no daughters. Every time she brought up having a sweet, dear girl, he always looked so envious.

Bringing a daughter into his household would help her gain footing there real quick.

Before Emily could name who, Sarah Parker jumped in eagerly: "Dad, Mom, Clara’s too frail; she’d never make it if she got sent down. Let her go to the Collins’ and live a better life."

Back in the last life, she’d honestly thought tagging along with Mom into remarrying would mean living like royalty.

Turned out, it was hell—felt like being fried in hot oil every day. She ended up dying in prison.

This time, she was set on sticking with Dad and her brothers to the countryside and taking all the good stuff that should’ve gone to her sister.

The loving husband, doting father and brothers, endless money—she was going to make it all hers.

Clara was still figuring out how to avoid being drained dry like the last time they got sent down.

But the second she heard what Sarah said, it all clicked—Sarah had been reborn too.

Talk about luck when you need it.

Clara made sure not to let her grin show. Pushed aside her long bangs and gave a stunned, innocent look with that pale and thin little face.

"Sis… what are you talking about?"

Sarah's eyes lit up briefly in triumph, then she put on a fake sweet smile.

"Clara…"

Her soft voice snapped everyone in the Parker family back to the moment.

Emily put down her pen and rushed over, pressing the back of her hand to Sarah’s forehead, voice full of worry.

"Sarah, are you feeling feverish? Talking all strange like this..."

George scolded, his tone full of concern. "Even if you’ve got a fever, you can’t say things like that. Who turns down a shot at comfort to go suffer?"

Sending the eldest girl, who’d lived a pampered life, off to enjoy comfort, and the tough younger one to do the hard labor made the most sense.

You can’t expect the countryside to survive off folks who don’t know one crop from another.

James and Alex Parker also chipped in, trying to talk Sarah out of it. They both dreamed of that cushy life with the Collins family—but dreams were all they had.

Clara looked at her family, always putting Sarah first, and wasn’t surprised anymore.

She lowered her head and mumbled, "Sis, what Dad, Mom, and our brothers are saying makes sense. I’ve always been used to hard days. Going to the countryside suits me. You should go enjoy life with the Collins family."

That one line hit its mark—Sarah shot to her feet in protest.

"No way! Life down there is brutal. You’re way too weak; you wouldn’t last two days. I may not like you all that much, but I’m not gonna just let you die."

As soon as she finished, she threw herself into Emily’s arms, crying soft but stubborn tears.

"Mom, I hate the idea of being apart from you too, but I’m smarter than Clara, and people like me better. Hard as the countryside is, I’ll still do better than her. Please, let me go."