✨ Transmigrated Genius Bride in the 1970s Countryside ✨

The last thing she remembered was blood. Hot, metallic, choking her throat as the voices around her blurred into distant echoes. Betrayal was the taste on her lips, sharper than the blade that had ended her life. She had been a genius in her past life—respected in the corporate world, feared in negotiations, and envied by countless rivals. Yet, it was the people closest to her who had destroyed her. A partner she had trusted stabbed her in the back, a family member she had supported turned greedy, and the empire she built crumbled in one single night of fire and betrayal. When her eyes opened again, she expected darkness. Instead, she was greeted by the sharp scent of smoke from a clay stove, the itchy prickle of a straw mat under her body, and the chatter of hens clucking somewhere outside. The air was hot, humid, and heavy with the smell of soil—nothing like the sterile coldness of a hospital ward where she had died. She shot up in panic, her breath ragged. But the moment she moved, her body screamed with weakness. She looked down at her hands, pale and thin, fingers covered in calluses that didn’t belong to her. Her chest rose and fell, but the strength she was used to—the commanding presence that made boardrooms tremble—was gone. The sound of the door creaking made her turn sharply. A middle-aged woman barged in, her face sharp with disdain, her hands on her hips. “Useless girl, you’re still lying there? Do you want the whole family to starve because of you?” the woman snapped, her voice loud enough to make the hens scatter outside. The words cut through her haze. She knew this voice… no, not her voice, but the body’s memory whispered to her. This was the **original mother** of the body she now inhabited. A poor woman in a small countryside village of the 1970s. Flashes of memories not her own surged into her mind: * The girl whose body she now occupied had been notorious in the village—lazy, spoiled, and unwilling to work. * She skipped chores, fought with neighbors, and depended entirely on her struggling parents. * No one wanted her. Not even for marriage, which was the only measure of a girl’s worth in the village. A flood of contempt, gossip, and scorn echoed in her head. Her heart thudded. *I… transmigrated?* The modern genius, betrayed and murdered in her previous life, was now trapped in the body of a useless countryside girl destined for misery. The woman—her “mother”—threw a bundle of ragged clothes onto her lap. “Get up. At least fetch some water before your father returns. Don’t embarrass us further today.” The door slammed shut, leaving her in stunned silence. She pressed her hand against her forehead, forcing herself to breathe. Her sharp mind quickly pieced the fragments together. This was a **second chance**. Her lips curled into a faint, ironic smile. The heavens had given her a broken body, a ruined reputation, and a poor family. Yet, compared to the betrayal that ended her last life, this was freedom. No corporate chains, no greedy relatives watching her wealth—only hard work and survival. She stood slowly, her thin legs trembling, but her back straightened with determination. She walked to the cracked bronze mirror propped in the corner. A pale, ordinary face stared back at her. The eyes, once dull and lifeless, now gleamed with sharpness. The old “lazy girl” was gone. From this moment, she—reborn with the soul of a modern genius—would take control. The sound of children laughing outside carried through the window, followed by mocking voices: “Don’t play near that yard! The lazy pig lives there. You’ll catch her uselessness!” She clenched her fists. The villagers might laugh now, but she would make them choke on their words. Slowly, she stepped outside. The hot summer sun blinded her for a moment, but then she saw it clearly—the cracked mud walls of her home, the endless fields of green, the villagers hauling buckets and chatting in groups. Life here was simple, harsh, and unforgiving. But in her eyes, it was also filled with opportunity. She tightened her grip on the rusty bucket left by the door. Her lips curved into a determined smile. “Fine. Let’s start with water,” she murmured. “If this is my new life, then I’ll live it better than anyone ever could.” The soul of a fallen genius had awakened in the body of a mocked village girl. And the world had no idea what kind of storm was about to descend on this quiet countryside. To be continued…