Volume One, Chapter 1: Damn, Something’s Not Right!

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Summer, 1973.

In the shimmering shadows of the woods, Shen Zhiyi leaned against a tree, gasping for breath.

“Brother, I can't go any further. I want to rest here for a bit.”

The man walking with her nodded. “Alright, wait here and don't wander off. I'll be nearby looking for medicinal herbs. If anything happens, just shout, okay?”

Shen Zhiyi nodded, and soon she was alone.

She glanced around, finally settling herself beside a large stone.

Hidden in the surroundings, the soldiers were stunned.

Song Huaichuan, precisely mistaken for a seat: speechless.

Yet Shen Zhiyi, oblivious to the truth, took off her straw hat and used it as a fan, gently waving it.

She appeared peaceful, but inwardly, tears streamed down her face. Who could truly understand?

She was born with memories intact, always believing it was because she hadn’t drunk the soup of oblivion.

It was only half a month ago she discovered the truth—she had transmigrated into a novel!

The system arrived late, and was anything but proper—obsessed with risqué tasks, both “red” and “yellow.”

The so-called “yellow” was the inappropriate kind, the kind that meant seduction.

This perverse system demanded she charm the soldier across the mountain.

Oh, that would be Song Huaichuan, now unwittingly serving as her cushion beneath her.

Song Huaichuan, male, twenty-six years old, eldest grandson of the Song family in the capital’s compound. He graduated from the military academy at eighteen and has served ever since, now a deputy regimental commander with countless accolades.

He is the cousin of the novel’s male lead, and the only man the female lead ever truly loved—her unattainable dream.

His prospects are limitless, but unfortunately, his life is short; three years from now, he’ll perish during a mission, leading the female protagonist to abandon him.

The system's yellow mission was for her to seduce Song Huaichuan, earning yellow credits through intimate contact.

As for the red missions, they were essentially patriotic tasks.

Simply put, yellow tasks were the key: collect enough points to unlock red learning missions, and once completed, she could earn various blueprints.

According to the system, it came from the interstellar age a thousand years in the future, where technology was tens of thousands of times more advanced. If she did the tasks well, it could help her build anything—from airplanes and aircraft carriers to starships and fighter jets!

[Your country is currently lagging, struggling internationally, constantly sidelined and targeted, and its citizens are not respected abroad.]

[Don’t you want to wipe away past humiliations, and take up the mission of national rejuvenation, fulfilling your great dream?]

The promises were grand and tempting, and a naïve girl like her could hardly resist.

But—

She had tried.

The first time, she followed the system’s suggested route, climbing mountains, crossing streams and rivers, only to be ordered back before approaching the target.

Not to mention the embarrassment—her hands and feet ended up blistered and sore!

The second time, she waited on a path Song Huaichuan would pass, pretending to stumble into him, but he dodged faster than a rabbit, and she couldn’t stop herself, tumbling into a muddy paddy field, emerging caked in mud and soaked.

Now, for the third attempt.

In the height of summer, while others stayed indoors to keep cool, she had to trudge up the mountain to do her tasks.

Still, as she watched the system’s yellow value steadily rise, Shen Zhiyi felt a bit comforted.

The mountain breeze was gentle, and the afternoon sunlight pleasant.

Watching the dappled light on the ground, Shen Zhiyi soon felt sleepy.

She planned a brief nap.

It wasn’t entirely her fault—contact through clothes and grass accumulated points far too slowly.

At the current rate—five points per minute—she’d have to maintain this position for six or seven hours to redeem her desired reward.

With so much time, what else could she do but sleep? Staring at the hidden soldiers would be far too awkward.

So even if she had to pretend, she would feign a sweet slumber.

But no pretense was needed—she was accustomed to midday naps, and soon her breathing grew gentle and deep.

Song Huaichuan, the human cushion: silent.

The hidden soldiers exchanged glances.

Soldier A: Should we continue our stealth training?

Soldier B: The boss hasn’t given orders, so I guess we keep going?

Soldier C: The boss has been used as a seat for so long without moving—could he be asleep or have fainted?

Soldier D: Hey, this girl really knows how to choose a spot for a nap...

Meanwhile, Song Huaichuan was caught in a dilemma.

He had already missed the best moment to get up and leave; now, moving suddenly would be inappropriate.

The sun began to dip as time passed.

Shen Zhiyi’s elder brother, Shen Zhichun, checked on her several times. Seeing her still asleep, he left again.

Eventually, the pressure on her arm woke Shen Zhiyi.

Opening her eyes, she saw Shen Zhichun tidying the herbs he’d gathered nearby.

Seeing her awake, he asked if she wanted to go back.

Shen Zhiyi glanced at the system panel, feeling she’d earned enough points for the day.

If she lingered any longer, it would surely arouse suspicion.

But as she prepared to rise, her eyes suddenly flickered.

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Then she spoke crisply—

“Brother, turn around for a moment. I need to relieve myself right here.”

Song Huaichuan’s muscles tensed, even his scalp tingling.

He watched as Shen Zhiyi raised her hand, brushing against her waistband.

The hidden soldiers’ eyes nearly popped out, their minds screaming “Girl, leave something behind!”—but her hand slipped past the belt.

Phew.

Unaware of the tension around her, Shen Zhiyi relaxed her fingers and said playfully,

“Sigh, after sleeping like this for so long, my hands don’t even feel like my own. I need to massage them to ease the stiffness.”

So that’s what she meant by “relieve herself.”

The hidden soldiers all exhaled in relief, their hearts settling.

Song Huaichuan’s muscles also relaxed.

But then, Shen Zhiyi spoke again—

“Brother, I feel something’s off here.”

The hidden soldiers: alarmed!

Shen Zhiyi: “Oh, it’s just my arm—pressed too long, the blood isn’t circulating.”

Phew.

Shen Zhiyi tried to get up, but before she could straighten, her legs gave out and she dropped back down—

“Damn!”

Caught off guard, she blurted out a curse.

Shen Zhichun hurried over.

“Little sister, are you alright?”

“I’m fine, just pins and needles in my leg. I’ll be okay in a bit.”

This time, it wasn’t an act—her leg really was numb and she couldn’t stand.

Shen Zhiyi knelt on the ground, supporting herself with both hands.

Suddenly, she noticed something felt off beneath her palms.

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