"Fat pig! Serves you right for falling!"

"Stop playing dead and get up already! Don’t you see you’re blocking my way?"

"If I’m late for work and my pay gets docked, you think you can afford to compensate me?"

"..." The noise grated on her nerves. Who on earth was shouting so rudely in her face, disturbing her peace—

No, wait. That wasn’t right. The plane she had been on, the one heading back home, had been struck by lightning and crashed!

There was no way she could have survived that.

With a sharp intake of breath, Song Liuli’s eyes flew open as she abruptly pushed herself up from the ground, her dazed gaze locking onto the woman in front of her.

Jiang Yunfeng—a first-grade Chinese teacher at the local elementary school and her neighbor. They had just been arguing, and Song Liuli had accidentally fallen… These unfamiliar memories flooded her mind all at once.

"Ugh, what rotten luck to have you as a neighbor. Get out of my sight." Jiang Yunfeng wrinkled her nose in disgust as she took in Song Liuli’s bewildered expression. Covering her mouth and nose with one hand, she brushed past her, the strap of her bag scraping against Song Liuli’s cheek and leaving a faint, barely visible scratch.

As if moving on autopilot, Song Liuli staggered to her feet and retreated into the familiar yet foreign confines of her home, shutting the door behind her before collapsing into a chair, her mind blank.

It wasn’t until her legs began to tingle from sitting too long that her thoughts slowly settled.

In just that short hour, she had come to a firm conclusion—she had been reborn. Reborn into the early 1990s, inhabiting someone else’s body while retaining the original owner’s memories. Strangely enough, this person shared her name: Song Liuli. She exhaled in relief. At least the name was the same—otherwise, she wasn’t sure how she’d ever come to terms with this new reality.

But the surroundings…

The living room barely had any decent furniture. Even the stool she was sitting on looked like it had been patched up with countless pieces of wood just to stay upright. Motivational slogans plastered the walls, while the floor was a mess of sticky, unidentifiable stains.

Earlier, she had been too disoriented to notice, but now, as she took a deep breath, the faint stench in the air made her nose wrinkle.

Oh my God, this isn’t a place fit for humans—it’s practically a pigsty.

Standing up from the stool, she walked to the bathroom door and froze in place. The cramped space was littered with crumpled tissues strewn across the floor—no explanation needed for what they were used for. The thought alone made her stomach churn with disgust. She turned away and lunged for the sink, retching violently.

When the nausea finally subsided, Song Liuli lifted her head and caught her reflection in the grimy wall-mounted mirror. It was as if she’d seen a monster—she let out a sharp gasp before collapsing to the floor with a loud *thud*.

In that split second before blacking out, she silently pleaded with the heavens to let her reincarnate all over again. If not, she might as well just die right there.

When she came to, her eyes fixed on the cracked ceiling, she realized with a sinking heart that there was no going back.

With a resigned sigh, she struggled to her feet and forced herself to face the mirror again—this time, with slightly more composure.

Her greasy hair stuck out in all directions like a bird’s nest, crusty sleep clung to the corners of her eyes, and her pudgy face nearly swallowed her features whole, her double chin merging into her neck.

The faded army-green tank top hung loosely on her, while the grimy pants clung uncomfortably to her skin.