"Mmh... no, don't..."

"Georgene Mercer, wasn't it you begging me for this? Fine. I'll give you what you wanted."

"Ah! Easy..."

In the dark, the old wooden bed creaked and groaned. Her soft moans tangled with the man's rough, muffled breathing.

Creak. Creak. No one knew how long it went on before everything finally went still.

"Smack!"

A pale, slender hand landed hard across that handsome face. Right after that came a sharp kick. "Get off me!"

The man's expression dropped at once. He grabbed her ankle in one hand. "Georgene Mercer, what the hell is wrong with you?"

Georgene's mind was a complete mess. What was going on here?

She had only dozed off for a moment while driving. How had she opened her eyes and ended up in some strange man's bed?

The man was definitely good-looking, no argument there. Sleeping with him wasn't exactly a loss. But this room, this bed... it was way too shabby.

Then a stabbing pain hit her head. A flood of memories that clearly didn't belong to her came rushing in.

So she had transmigrated.

She had become Georgene Mercer, a military wife living in 1961 in the army compound.

Right now, it was the last year of the three-year famine, the hardest stretch at the very end.

In an age when people could barely fill their stomachs, the original Georgene Mercer had only cared about chasing after a man.

Georgene was stunning, bright-faced and shapely, the number one beauty in the whole military compound.

Five years ago, the day she first entered the compound, she took one look at Elgar Mercer, the sharp, heroic king of the soldiers, and lost her head. She stopped caring about her studies. Every day, she was either trailing after Elgar or hovering around his family.

In the end, she became the kind of person everyone found annoying, and she got branded as a lovestruck fool.

A year ago, military doctor Duane Caldwell had dragged Elgar back from the brink of death. Once he learned what his daughter was thinking, he simply used that life-saving favor to force Elgar into marrying her.

Word was, Elgar, this hopelessly devoted sort of man, had always kept a white moonlight in his heart: Ruby Sumner, the talented beauty from the military arts troupe.

Ruby was delicate and pretty, not the kind of beauty that stunned people on sight, but she sang well, danced beautifully, and most importantly, she had once been Elgar's deskmate in middle school.

To get closer to him, Ruby had gritted her teeth and learned dance, trained her voice, and pushed herself day and night until she finally got into the same military arts troupe where Elgar was.

The two of them had practically reached the point of saying it out loud, and then Georgene Mercer came charging in halfway and ruined it all.

Georgene happily married the number one heartthrob in the military compound, but Elgar couldn't forget the woman in his heart. He used an outside assignment as an excuse and hid from her for a full three months.

Depressed and bitter, Georgene turned to her "good friend," Angela Whitfield, who gave her an idea.

Angela Whitfield said, "You're already married. Why don't you slip him a little aphrodisiac? Once you two have really slept together, are you still scared he won't treat you well?"

Angela knew perfectly well how much courage Georgene had. Stupid as a brick. If she tried drugging him, she'd probably get caught on the spot.

As long as Georgene really dared to do it, Elgar would definitely ask for a divorce the moment he found out. Even with the life-saving debt hanging there, it wouldn't stop the marriage papers from being torn apart.

Then, once Elgar became a divorced man, if Angela got a matchmaker to make a move, wouldn't everything fall into place naturally?

The original Georgene really was spineless. The moment Elgar came back, she gathered every bit of courage she had and secretly poured pig breeding medicine into his tea mug.

But before Elgar could even take a sip, she scared herself half to death and gulped the whole cup down herself.

She had suffered a fright years ago, and her heart had never been very strong since.

When the drug kicked in, she didn't dare go near Elgar. She held it in and held it in, and in the end, she literally suffocated herself to death.

How pathetic.

When the modern Georgene came over, her head still hadn't caught up. All she felt was that her whole body was burning, her reason gone.

The second she saw Elgar's handsome face, she lunged right at him.

This stuff was way too strong.

She had even thrown out a line: "You bastard, if you won't sleep with me, I'll go find some other man outside."

Elgar had wanted to push her away, but she shut his mouth before he could say anything. Any normal man would've cracked under that kind of attack. In the end, he had no choice but to go along with it.

Only now did Georgene finally sort the whole thing out in her head. The second she transmigrated over, she had pounced on him. Not once, but twice. Once on the sofa, once in the room.

And every single time, she had been the one on top. That was seriously something.

Right now, after round two had finally ended, Elgar was looking at her with those dark, unreadable eyes.

Georgene clenched her teeth and suddenly kicked toward his head. "Get lost. What are you staring at?"

That finally set Elgar off. One arm hooked around her slim waist, his leg lifted, and in a second the whole situation flipped.

"Georgene Mercer, didn't you want me to sleep with you? Fine. Then I'll keep you company properly."

Georgene shot back, "Elgar Mercer, I want a divorce. Go find your white moonlight!"

Elgar lowered his head and looked at those watery, seductive eyes beneath him. Then he bent down and kissed her, setting sparks everywhere...

Georgene struggled twice, then gave up and lay flat. Better to go with it than fight pointlessly... besides, she was enjoying it too.

Her legs wrapped around him like a water snake. That wasn't her fault. The medicine definitely hadn't worn off yet.

As for how she fell asleep afterward, she didn't remember. She only knew that when she woke up, that damned man was already gone.

The man was ruthless, seriously. The one who had taken the drug was the original owner, but he had acted like he'd swallowed some too. Once he started, he just wouldn't stop.

Now look at her. Her waist and legs were so weak and sore she could barely walk.

Georgene slowly pushed herself upright, got dressed piece by piece, and then looked around the bare little room. Only then did real panic creep into her chest.

This year was the last year of the famine, and also the hardest one to survive.

Disaster had spread across huge parts of the country. People were starving to death everywhere.

The call from above was to tighten belts and save every scrap. Meat was out of the question. Even the army, with military grain supplies backing it up, couldn't just eat their fill whenever they wanted.

Georgene's stomach had already started protesting, growling nonstop.

She was just about to look for food coupons and figure out how to get something from the canteen to fill her belly when the door opened.

Elgar walked in carrying a lunch tin and said flatly, "The canteen only had sweet potatoes left today. Make do with it."

Her mind had been too scrambled last night, so only now did Georgene really get a clear look at him. This man was built absurdly well. Tall, straight, full of pressure. He had to be at least six feet.

The muscles in his arms were sharply defined, packed with strength, and those legs...

Those legs were strong too.

Then there was that face. Sword-like brows, bright eyes, a high nose bridge, features cut as if carved with a knife, deep-set and striking, bone structure perfect. No wonder the original owner lost her senses every time she saw him.

So many people had died over these three famine years, yet this jerk stood there solid and strong, not a trace of swelling anywhere on him.

Well, that made sense. Their military district backed up against several mountains, and there was a big river nearby too. Even though the river was nearly drying up, at least it hadn't gone dry yet.

The troops lived carefully and saved what they could. Life was tight, sure, but the basics were still guaranteed.

There wasn't a trace of expression on Elgar's face. Georgene couldn't be bothered to deal with him either. But how was she supposed to eat without brushing her teeth first?

"Angela Whitfield is waiting outside for you. She said to come with her up the mountain to dig wild greens."

What, had Xue Baochai not dug enough, so now it was her turn?

The ground was dry enough to crack open. Where would any wild greens even come from?

"I turned her down for you. I said you weren't feeling well and needed to rest at home."

"Mm. Got it."

Georgene paused, set the enamel mug in her hand lightly on the table, then looked up at him and spoke in an even tone.

"I heard Comrade Ruby Sumner got into our military arts troupe just for you. Elgar Mercer, what exactly are you thinking?"

She didn't wait for him to answer. She changed the subject and went right on.

"Why don't we just divorce? That way you won't have to feed one extra mouth. These days, saving one ration's worth of grain is a good thing too."

"Oh, and I also heard Ruby's grandparents back in the countryside both started swelling up last month. Shouldn't you go help her out a little?"

"Do whatever you want."

Elgar threw out those two cold words, dark-faced, and strode out.

The original Georgene's family background was no joke.

Her father, Duane Caldwell, was a military doctor. Her mother, Lana Truman, was head nurse in internal medicine at the military hospital.

She also had two older brothers backing her up. Her eldest brother, Walter Caldwell, worked as a stenographer in the Central Office, and her second brother, Aldred Caldwell, was still in university.

The whole Caldwell family was full of smart people with bright futures ahead of them. Georgene alone lived like a pretty fool.

She had never once put her heart into studying. After finally scraping through middle school, her father and brothers had taken turns tutoring her, working themselves half to death to help her barely get into an ordinary high school.

This year's college entrance exam? Forget university. She hadn't even gotten into a junior college. She was the odd one out in the whole family.

And the worst part was, this oddball didn't think it was embarrassing at all. In the end, she cheerfully married herself off.

The military hospital was at least six kilometers from the army. After the wedding, the couple hadn't even bought a bicycle. It had never been easy for the original owner to go back to her parents' home. If she really got divorced, her family would definitely worry.

But if she didn't divorce him, she'd feel suffocated. That damned man had another woman in his heart.

Then Georgene remembered. She had heard about it from Elgar's younger sister, Brynlee Mercer, with her own ears.

Brynlee had never wanted this sister-in-law in the first place. Right to Georgene's face, she had called her a vase, a pretty idiot, nice to look at and useless in every other way.

The original owner had been furious, but because she was Elgar's sister, she swallowed it.

Brynlee, though, only got bolder the more she talked. Her mouth slipped, and she blurted out the whole thing about the white moonlight hidden in her brother's heart.

She even said she'd seen her brother's diary herself. Every page was packed tight with little details from his school years with that white moonlight.