In her past life, Sienna had manipulated Elena into being the one to scold the old driver. Back then, Elena's health was truly too fragile to carry her own bags into the village, so she had spoken up—though politely. The driver, despite grumbling, had eventually dropped them at the dorms.

  But after her rebirth, Elena knew the old man was in a rush. She was also strong enough to carry her own weight now. She wasn't about to be Sienna's pawn again. With no one else to do her dirty work, Sienna was forced to open her own mouth.

  Sienna was tall and athletic-looking, but having been spoiled at home, she was incredibly soft. To put it bluntly, she couldn't carry or lift a thing. In any other setting, a pretty girl like her asking for a favor might have worked, but this driver was in his fifties and had no time for damsels in distress.

  Infuriated by her tone and desperate to haul his rice, he snapped, "If you've got a problem, take it up with the Battalion Commander! Don't hold up my harvest. You might not need to eat, but my whole family does! Stop being so pampered and get off my cart!"

  Elena had anticipated the driver might give in, but seeing the urgency in his eyes, she began gathering her things.

  When the driver saw the pale, thin Elena hauling her own luggage while the tall, sturdy Sienna did nothing but complain, he grew even angrier. He glared at Sienna and fumed in silence.

  So what if she's from the city? Out here in the fields, you're just a peasant. If it weren't for us farmers, those city folks would starve. Who is she to look down on us?

  Sienna turned pale with rage after being called "pampered," but fearing for her reputation in a new place, she reluctantly began dragging her luggage off the cart.

  Elena jumped down, thinking she'd be fine, but the moment her feet hit the ground, a sharp cramp surged up from her soles. Her muscles seized—likely from sitting with her legs cramped for too long.

  Lucy was busy unloading and couldn't see her. At that exact moment, whether by accident or design, Sienna slammed her luggage into Elena's back.

  Just as Elena was about to faceplant into the dirt, a large hand reached out and caught her firmly.

  It was a bronzed forearm, rippling with lean muscle and not a trace of fat. Veins bulged slightly under the strain of holding her up. The arm was damp with sweat, and the scent hit her—a mix of raw masculinity and the fresh, green aroma of harvested straw. It wasn't unpleasant.

  Such a manly scent... and the sweet smell of rice.

  The combination felt strangely comforting to Elena.

  The man holding her was carrying a shoulder pole with two large baskets covered in old burlap sacks. Whatever was inside was heavy; the bamboo pole was bent into a deep arc under the weight. He had been about to pass her, but seeing she was about to fall—and potentially knock over his baskets—he had stepped in.

  "Careful." Under a straw hat, a pair of dark, piercing eyes swept over Elena, filled with annoyance at her clumsiness. "Stand steady."

  With a powerful shove of his arm, he hoisted Elena upright and immediately withdrew his hand to steady his swaying load.

  "I'm sorry," Elena apologized quickly. Ignoring the throbbing in her foot, she hurried out of his way.

  Elena recognized him.

  His name was Roan. He was a local soldier, and because he was so handsome, several women had gone to the Battalion Commander, specifically asking to be introduced to him. The Commander had joked they should draw straws to see who got to date him first. Roan, apparently out of shyness, had gone into hiding for days, refusing to leave his house.

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  That story was the only reason Elena remembered him. In reality, she had never spoken a word to him before today.

  "Are you okay?" Lucy dropped her bags and rushed over, checking Elena for injuries. Once satisfied, she looked at Roan. "Thank you. She didn't mean it. Sorry about that."

  Roan frowned slightly, glanced at Elena without a word, gave the driver a brief nod, and trekked away, his heavy load rhythmic with his stride.

  Sienna watched the whole scene coldly. She didn't bother with her usual fake concern. She gave Elena a meaningful look, then watched Roan's retreating figure. Now that she knew Elena was hostile toward her, the mask was off. Fine. If we're enemies, we're enemies. I don't like her, and I'm going to make her pay.

  "You hit me on purpose," Elena said, her gaze sharp as a needle.

  Sienna didn't care. She lied through her teeth. "Are you crazy? Just because someone brushes against you, it's 'on purpose'? I was holding my bags! If you can't stand on your own two feet, don't blame me!"

  Elena didn't waste her breath. She had expected Sienna to flip the script. She gave her one long, cold stare, then picked up her bags and walked toward the dorms with Lucy.

  The dormitory consisted of five single-story buildings facing a large, flat threshing floor. The yard was filled with freshly harvested rice, being turned and dried by women and the elderly. Seeing the girls arrive, a few helpful soldiers jogged over and helped them carry their luggage into one of the brick houses.

  The center room served as the office. Several old desks were pushed together, cluttered with handguns, rifles, and tank fuel canisters. On the wall hung a military slogan: THE GREAT PROLETARIAN VICTORY IS CERTAIN!

  The moment they stepped inside, Sienna caught sight of spiderwebs on the rafters and rolled her eyes in silent disgust. Elena, however, felt a surge of long-lost emotion. She was finally back. She could finally start her own life.

  Just as they finished moving in, Major Barda returned from a border inspection. He tossed a loaded handgun onto the desk with a heavy clatter.

  Barda looked to be in his forties. His uniform was a map of patches—some old, some fresh holes from the day's work. He had scratches on his arms and legs, but he ignored them, pulling out chairs with a loud scrape.

  "Sit, sit. We just negotiated the ceasefire. There's prisoner exchanges and border demarcation to deal with... a lot of work. But honestly, it's mostly for show. We've had a de facto ceasefire here for three years; we just need to sign the papers."

  Barda pushed open the doors to two adjacent rooms. One was the entrance to an air-raid shelter, currently propped open. Inside, the sheer volume of weapons and ammunition made it almost impossible to walk.

  But stacked right alongside the crates of guns were dozens of sacks of dried rice.

  These were men who could fight a war and farm the land with equal skill.

  Sienna stood there primly, waiting for Barda to finish before flashing a sweet smile. "Thank you for looking after us, Major. we're not here to cause trouble. We'll wait until you're done with the border business."

  Her words were music to the Major's ears. Barda gave her a second look and nodded approvingly. "Rest up for now..."

  With that, he hurried back out the door.

  "All this rice... can people even live here? And those guns—what if someone uses them to kill us in the middle of the night? The smell of gunpowder is so thick, how am I supposed to sleep? Is this wooden bed going to collapse?"

  The moment Barda was gone, Sienna began her litany of complaints. Ignoring her, Elena and the others picked up their bags and began to settle in.