The rain had been falling since dawn.

Tiny droplets clung to the leaves of the banyan trees, while a thin layer of mist covered the winding mountain paths. The river that flowed beside Qinghe Village was usually calm and gentle, but after three days of rain, its clear waters had turned dark and swift.

Few villagers dared to go near it.

Yet, on the slippery riverbank, a young girl knelt beside the water, carefully reaching for a cluster of medicinal herbs growing between the rocks.

Her name was Anaya.

She was eighteen years old and lived with her elderly grandmother in the poorest house in the village. Every morning before sunrise, she climbed the mountains or searched along the river for herbs to sell in the market. It wasn't much, but it was enough to buy rice and oil.

"Just one more bundle," she whispered to herself. "Grandmother's cough has been getting worse."

She stretched her hand toward the last plant.

Her fingers touched the leaves.

Then—

The moss-covered stone beneath her foot shifted.

Her eyes widened.

"No—!"

Her body slipped forward.

The roaring river swallowed her before she could scream.

Cold water rushed into her nose and lungs. She struggled wildly, but the current was far stronger than she was.

Within moments, everything faded into darkness.

...

Far away, in another world, another Anaya closed her eyes for what she believed would be the last time.

She had spent years chasing success in the city. Every day was the same—work, eat, sleep, repeat. There was never enough time to rest, never enough time to visit her parents, never enough time to simply live.

The last thing she remembered was collapsing after days without proper sleep.

She had expected darkness.

Instead, she felt icy water surrounding her.

Her eyes flew open.

'Water...?'

Her chest burned.

She couldn't breathe.

She tried to move, but her body refused to obey.

The river pulled her deeper.

Panic spread through her.

'What's happening?'

'Didn't I... die?'

Just as her consciousness began slipping away, a shadow plunged into the water.

Strong arms wrapped around her waist.

The stranger kicked against the current with practiced strength, fighting the river inch by inch until they finally reached the shore.

Anaya coughed violently, water pouring from her mouth as fresh air filled her lungs.

She lay on the muddy riverbank, gasping.

The sound of worried voices surrounded her.

"Is she alive?"

"She opened her eyes!"

"Thank goodness Arjun found her in time."

Arjun?

Slowly, she forced herself to look up.

A young man was kneeling beside her.

His dark hair was dripping wet, and his simple linen clothes clung to his broad shoulders. His hands were rough, marked with old scars from years of hunting and chopping wood. His breathing was heavy, but his calm expression never changed.

"Can you hear me?" he asked quietly.

His voice was deep but gentle.

Anaya stared at him blankly.

This wasn't a hospital.

There were no ambulances.

No concrete roads.

Only wooden carts, thatched-roof houses in the distance, and villagers dressed in plain homespun clothing.

'Where am I...?'

A sudden pain exploded inside her head.

Fragments of memories that weren't hers flooded her mind...

A little girl gathering herbs.

An elderly grandmother smiling despite illness.

Long winters.

Empty rice jars.

A life of hardship.

And finally—

The moment of slipping into the river.

Anaya froze.

She understood.

The girl whose body she now occupied had died.

And somehow...

She had awakened in her place.

As the realization settled over her, the village elder stepped forward with a troubled expression.

He looked from the drenched hunter to the young woman lying beside him.

A heavy silence fell over everyone.

Finally, the elder sighed.

"According to our village's customs," he said, "an unmarried man who carries an unmarried woman in his arms before the entire village must take responsibility."

He turned toward Arjun.

"You two will have to marry."

Anaya's heart skipped a beat.

She had survived death...

Only to wake up in another era—and be told she was about to marry a complete stranger.

The murmurs spread through the crowd like ripples across the river.

"The elder is right."

"Everyone saw Hunter Arjun carrying her out of the water."

"If they don't marry, people will gossip for years."

Anaya sat frozen on the damp grass, her wet clothes clinging to her skin as the villagers argued over her future.

No one asked what she wanted.

No one even seemed to think it was necessary.

She lowered her head, trying to steady her breathing.

This isn't my world.

The thought echoed in her mind again and again.

The river, the mountains, the wooden carts, the villagers dressed in coarse linen—everything looked like a scene from an ancient drama.

Only hours ago, she had been living in a modern city, worrying about deadlines and rent.

Now strangers were discussing her marriage as if it had already been decided.

The elderly village head stepped forward and rested both hands on his walking stick.

"Arjun."

The hunter respectfully bowed his head.

"Yes, Elder."

"You understand our customs."

"I do."

"You carried an unmarried woman before dozens of witnesses."

"I had no choice. If I hadn't, she would have drowned."

"No one blames you for saving her," the elder replied gently. "But customs exist to protect a woman's reputation."

The villagers nodded.

One middle-aged woman sighed.

"If they don't marry, no family will ever accept the girl."

Another added, "People can be cruel."

Anaya listened quietly.

Although she didn't agree with their traditions, she could see they genuinely believed they were protecting her future.

This wasn't punishment.

It was simply the way this village had lived for generations.

The elder finally turned to her.

"Child."

She looked up.

"Do you remember your name?"

Anaya hesitated.

The memories of the original owner were still swirling inside her mind.

"...Anaya."

A smile appeared on the elder's wrinkled face.

"Good. We were worried the river had damaged your memory."

Damaged your memory...

Perhaps pretending to remember very little would be the safest choice.

She lowered her eyes.

"My head hurts."

Immediately, several women stepped closer.

"Poor child."

"She swallowed so much water."

"It's a miracle she's alive."

Anaya forced a weak smile.

Every kind word made her chest tighten.

They believed she was the girl they had known all her life.

If they ever discovered the truth...

Would they think she was possessed?

Would they fear her?

She pushed the thoughts aside.

Right now, surviving came first.

The elder looked toward Arjun once more.

"What do you say?"

The young hunter stood silently for several moments.

Finally, he answered in a calm voice.

"If Lady Anaya refuses, I will not force her."

The simple sentence surprised everyone.

Including Anaya.

He wasn't trying to take advantage of the situation.

Instead, he was giving the choice to a woman he barely knew.

For the first time since opening her eyes in this unfamiliar world, she felt a little less afraid.

She studied him carefully.

His clothes were patched in several places.

A worn bow rested across his back.

His hands were rough from years of hard work.

He wasn't handsome in the polished way actors from her world were.

But there was a quiet steadiness in him that made him seem dependable.

The elder turned back to Anaya.

"What is your decision?"

Her heart pounded.

Refuse?

Where would she go?

She remembered the original owner's memories.

There was only one elderly grandmother waiting in a tiny house.

No parents.

No brothers.

No money.

If she rejected the marriage, rumors would spread throughout every nearby village.

Life would become difficult.

She closed her eyes for a moment.

I'm alone in this world.

At least... this man saved my life.

When she opened them again, she nodded slowly.

"I... will accept."

Silence filled the riverbank.

Then relieved smiles appeared one after another.

"That's wonderful."

"It seems fate has brought them together."

The elder struck his walking stick lightly against the ground.

"Then the wedding will be held three days from now."

Three days.

Anaya nearly laughed.

In her old world, people spent months planning weddings.

Here, she was apparently becoming someone's wife before the week was over.

As the villagers began walking back toward the village, Arjun remained where he was.

He waited until everyone had gone ahead before speaking.

"I'm sorry."

She blinked.

"For what?"

"For putting you in this situation."

His voice was quiet.

"If I had reached the river sooner..."

She interrupted him with a small shake of her head.

"You saved me."

Those three words made him pause.

For the first time, the usually expressionless hunter smiled—a faint, almost shy smile that disappeared as quickly as it came.

"It was the right thing to do."

They walked toward the village together.

Neither of them noticed that the dark river behind them had finally become calm, as though it had quietly accepted the exchange of one life... for another.

The journey back to the village was quiet.

Anaya walked a few steps behind Arjun, her damp clothes brushing against the wild grass lining the narrow path. The cool breeze carried the scent of wet earth and pine trees after the rain. Birds chirped from the branches above as though nothing extraordinary had happened.

To everyone around her, she was simply Anaya—the herb-gathering girl who had nearly drowned.

Only she knew the truth.

She was a stranger in another person's body.

Every few steps, villagers smiled at her.

"Take care of yourself, child."

"We'll visit after you've rested."

"Don't worry. Everything will be fine."

Their kindness made her chest tighten.

She wanted to tell them the truth, but she knew she couldn't. Even she didn't understand how she had come to this world.

After walking for nearly twenty minutes, the houses became fewer and farther apart. At the edge of the village stood a tiny mud house with a roof made of straw. A small vegetable patch grew beside the fence, though many of the plants had withered from neglect.

"This is your home," Arjun said softly.

Home...

The word felt unfamiliar.

Before Anaya could answer, the wooden door flew open.

A frail old woman hurried outside with surprising speed.

"Anaya!"

Her cloudy eyes filled with tears as she wrapped her thin arms around the girl.

"You frightened me to death! They said you fell into the river. I thought I had lost you."

Anaya stood frozen.

Memories from the original owner surfaced once again.

This was Grandmother Mei, the only family the original Anaya had left.

The old woman had raised her since childhood after her parents died from illness.

Without thinking, Anaya gently returned the embrace.

"I'm sorry, Grandma."

The words came naturally.

Grandmother Mei pulled away and held her face in both hands.

"You must never go near the river after heavy rain again. Herbs can wait. Your life cannot."

Anaya nodded.

"I understand."

The old woman finally noticed Arjun standing nearby.

She bowed deeply.

"Hunter Arjun... thank you. I have no way to repay you for saving my granddaughter."

Arjun quickly shook his head.

"There is no need to thank me. Anyone would have done the same."

Grandmother Mei smiled sadly.

"No. Many would have been afraid of the current."

She invited him inside for tea, but Arjun politely declined.

"I still have traps to check before sunset."

Before leaving, he looked at Anaya.

"Rest well."

Then he disappeared down the forest path.

Watching his retreating figure, Anaya realized something.

He had not once mentioned the marriage.

Not because he had forgotten.

Because he didn't want to pressure her.

For someone who lived by such strict village customs, that quiet respect spoke louder than any grand promise.

She followed Grandmother Mei into the house.

The inside was even simpler than she expected.

A single wooden table stood in the center of the room.

Two stools.

A clay stove in one corner.

A shelf holding only a few bowls and cups.

A curtain separated the sleeping area from the rest of the house.

There were no decorations.

No luxury.

Yet everything was swept clean.

Grandmother Mei noticed Anaya looking around.

"We may be poor," she said with a smile, "but a clean house brings peace to the heart."

Those words reminded Anaya of something her own mother used to say in her previous life.

For a moment, she had to blink back tears.

Perhaps...

No matter the world...

Some kinds of love never changed.

That evening, the two of them shared a simple meal of rice porridge and wild greens.

It wasn't delicious.

It wasn't filling.

But as the rain tapped softly against the roof and Grandmother Mei chatted about the neighbors, Anaya felt a strange warmth settle inside her heart.

The modern world had given her convenience.

This small house offered something she hadn't felt in years.

Peace.

Yet deep inside, one question remained.

In three days...

Would she truly become the wife of the quiet hunter who had risked his life to save hers?