[Transmigration into a book + military marriage + capitalist's daughter + space + spiritual spring + face-slapping + mindless enjoyment] Zhongqing was swept away by the waves and thought he was going to die. Unexpectedly, when she opened her eyes, she found herself transported to the 1970s, and even into the body of a capitalist's daughter who died young. The original owner was a pitiful little thing living under someone else's roof, whose parents and maternal grandparents were all sent to the countryside. I finally got a job, but my cousin signed me up to go to the countryside. I was beaten and even had my personal space taken away. After being transported to the world, Zhong Qing immediately reclaimed the space, then emptied her uncle's house and went to the countryside with a bulging wallet. After being sent to the countryside, while others ate sweet potatoes and gnawed on potatoes, I preferred rice at every meal. There are also various fruits produced in the space, such as apples, pears, and dates. Zhong Qing said that life in the countryside was quite comfortable. But why are you following me, you cold-faced officer? [This story is fictional; any inconsistencies should be considered original creations!] @cttro.

A transition from the perfect for her loving father and controlling brother to the mistress of the house. "You will hold your body still, no matter what I do to it. If you break, if you falter, if you try to resist... you will be punished." Her heart pounds, but something deep within her stirs. There is no fear here. Only the dark pull of desire, the need to be tested, to feel the sharp sting of her limits being pushed. She nods, her voice steady. "I understand, Daddy." Father's arms wrapped around her then, pulling her back into him, his chest a solid, unyielding presence behind her. He was so close that she could feel his breath against her neck, feel the steady rise and fall of his chest. She tilted her head back into him, her body surrendering to the warmth of his embrace. Leo, not far behind, closed the distance, pulling her even tighter between them. His hands slid down her back, his touch strong and familiar. She felt the heat of their bodies, the steady pressure of their hands on her skin, an anchor, a reminder of where she belonged. "You are ours," Father whispered again, the words wrapping around her like a promise. "And we are yours." Leo's fingers brushed through her hair, the gesture light and reverent. "Yes," he agreed, his voice firm with the certainty of it. "We'll never let you go."

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