July 23, 2000—the height of summer.

Su Wan finally completed her divorce proceedings with Zhou Ziming. To thank Ye Zhen for her help, she had packed a box of homemade rice candy and set out for Ye’s house—only to board the very bus that would send her hurtling back through time.

At first, as the streets outside blurred past like scenes from an old film, Su Wan thought she was watching some vintage movie. The low-rise houses yet to be demolished, the endless sea of bicycles—it all bore the unmistakable stamp of a bygone era.

But soon, something felt off.

Even in the sweltering heat of midsummer, the aging bus was a time capsule in itself. Workers in gray uniforms, youngsters with green military-style satchels, the mingling scents of sweat and underarm odor—every detail screamed authenticity.

This was a bus from 1979, long before air conditioning became commonplace. A ride during the dog days of summer was guaranteed to leave you drenched and sticky.

Su Wan stared blankly at the popsicle in her hand, its cold mist curling into the air. Her rice candy was gone, replaced by this era’s signature treat—Zhou Ziming had bought it for her before boarding, insisting it was necessary despite her protests. After all, they had seats at the starting station.

The past and future collided in her mind, memories of laughter, bitterness, pain, and rage flashing like faded black-and-white photographs.

Had she really wasted half her life in a farce? Was she doomed to relive this joke of an existence?

She glanced sideways at Zhou Ziming, a man in his early twenties with black-rimmed glasses and an air of refined gentleness.

Right now, he was saying something to her, his face soft and pure—the kind of face young girls dreamed of in their first crushes.

Just sitting there, he already drew the attention of passing girls.

Little did they know what a rotten core lay beneath that golden exterior.

Su Wan had seen firsthand the monstrous possessiveness and deceitful cruelty of his true nature in her previous life.

Twenty years of marriage. Twenty years of lies.

It wasn’t that she couldn’t conceive—it was that Zhou Ziming wasn’t even a real man.

"Xiaowan, why are you staring at me? The popsicle’s melting—aren’t you going to eat it?"

His gaze was tender, almost adoring. Su Wan turned her eyes back to the popsicle, now dripping beads of water onto her hand. She took a small bite, the chill shooting straight to her head.

"Where are we going?" she asked.

Zhou Ziming found her question odd and chuckled. "What’s wrong? Nervous? Don’t worry, my mom’s already met you. Today’s just a formal visit—meeting my dad and two sisters, that’s all."

"Oh."

So that was it. They’d been dating for half a year now, their relationship stable and strong, and they were finally meeting the parents to discuss marriage.

Her reaction was too calm, too indifferent—no trace of the nervousness or shyness she should have felt.

Zhou Ziming frowned. "What’s wrong with you?"

What’s wrong?

Su Wan let out a bitter laugh. Damn it, I’ve already suffered enough in my last life—spent over a year tangled in divorce court with you, nearly got myself killed, and just when I finally escaped, some damn bus drags me back to 1979, where I have to marry this psycho all over again.

How could I be happy?!

Just looking at him made her want to vomit.

So instead…

"I was just thinking," Su Wan said, "our family’s background is so different from yours. Your family might not approve of us."

Not just disapproval—back in her previous life, after marrying into the Zhou family, she’d been reduced to a maid, and when she couldn’t conceive, she became their personal servant, at their beck and call.

As her former mother-in-law, Tang Jiangying, had put it: "You should at least do something for our family."

Back then, Su Wan had wanted to scream, "Fuck you!"

But in the end, since she couldn’t give Zhou Ziming an heir, she swallowed all the resentment and bitterness.

And Zhou Ziming—the root of all her misery—had done nothing but offer empty words of comfort.

Memories of her past life surged, and Su Wan felt an urge to drag him to the roadside and let a passing truck run them both over.

But that would be too reckless—she’d only be throwing her own life away.

Zhou Ziming, oblivious, said, "Don’t be silly. My mom’s fully supportive of us, and my sisters are open-minded too. They won’t stand in the way of our relationship."

"Really?"

Su Wan smirked. This man had lied to her from day one, and when the lies ran out, he’d resorted to tantrums and emotional manipulation like a spoiled child.

Over the years, she’d asked for a divorce seven or eight times, and each time, he’d staged suicide attempts—threatening to jump off buildings, drown himself, hang himself. He’d tried every method imaginable, yet somehow never succeeded.

He was like a piece of gum stuck to her shoe—no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t shake him off.

Faced with such a bastard, Su Wan knew she had to be clever. Otherwise, the same nightmare from her past life might repeat itself.

The bus rattled on for nearly an hour before finally arriving at Taoyuan Community in the city center.

This was a newly built residential complex, complete with modern facilities, lush greenery, and spacious layouts. Everyone called it a "central compound" because of its prestige.

Zhou Ziming led Su Wan through the iron gate. Passing by Taoyuan Grocery, he held two bottles of liquor in his hand.

"Let me carry those," Su Wan said. "You go buy some fruit."

They’d already agreed—the store here was well-stocked and sold quality goods.

Zhou Ziming nodded and headed inside.

But when he returned, the two bottles of liquor were gone, replaced by shards of glass scattered across the ground.

Su Wan sighed. "I slipped and dropped them. Such a waste."

The liquor had been hard for her father, Su Qingshan, to procure—it was truly a pity to see it shattered.

Zhou Ziming blinked in surprise before waving it off. "It’s fine. I’ll get something else. The gift won’t be any less meaningful. Besides, my mom won’t care about the liquor—she just wants you to come."

Look at that—how thoughtful.

Su Wan made no move to reimburse him. She simply smiled. "Then go ahead."

Moments later, Zhou Ziming returned with two packages of snacks from a convenience store—hardly anything special.

Today was Sunday, and Tang Jiangying was home watching TV.

When she saw her son arrive with Su Wan, she forced a smile onto her face. But as her eyes landed on the meager offerings in their hands, her expression darkened instantly.

Zhou Ziming quickly interjected, "Mom, Xiaowan actually wanted to bring two bottles of good liquor, but I told her it wasn’t necessary. We’re practically family now—no need for such formalities."

Tang Jiangying fell silent for a moment before slowly glancing at Su Wan. "Only rude people disregard such formalities."

The words seemed directed at her son, but anyone with ears could tell who the real target was.

Clearly unhappy, Tang Jiangying said nothing more, leaving Zhou Ziming to smooth things over.

"Mom, we’re not hurting for two bottles of liquor."

Just then, Su Wan—who had been silent until now—spoke up, her face bright and innocent, her eyes curved into a perfect crescent moon.

"That’s right, Auntie. Ziming’s absolutely right. Uncle’s the factory director at the food plant—he can get all the best stuff. When I left home, I told my brother to grab some canned fruit and luncheon meat for us to bring back. Everyone’s been looking forward to trying something new!"