Chapter 1: A Deadly Start

She didn't argue. She didn't cry, and she didn't have another one of her usual hysterical breakdowns. She simply raised her hand, lifting her cloth-wrapped fingers to her eyes to inspect the wound by the light of the fire. Then, she turned and walked straight into the rain.

"Lin Wan, where are you going?" the Train Master shouted.

Without looking back, she left him with a single sentence: "The cracks have to be patched before dawn, or the next train is going to crash just the same."

The smile on Zhao Jianguo's face froze. The Train Master blinked, the realization hitting him—she was right. The danger was still there. Credit could be stolen, but the actual work still had to be done. He hurried after her. "I'll send some men to help you!"

"No need," Lin Wan's voice was half-swallowed by the rain. "I can handle it alone."

She grabbed her tools and followed the tracks toward the heart of the fractures. Behind her, Zhao Jianguo stood rooted to the spot, his face shifting between pale and flushed. Suddenly, the credit he had just snatched felt like something stolen—a heavy weight in his pocket that had started to burn.

The rain intensified. Lin Wan knelt, her hammer striking the rail with a sound that was crisp yet dull, over and over. She suddenly remembered that before transmigrating into this body, she had been a structural engineer; she had drawn countless tracks like these on blueprints. She knew the true path of the cracks, knew exactly where the stress was highest, and knew precisely what to patch and what to leave alone.

Zhao Jianguo didn't understand any of that. All he knew was how to steal credit. He had no idea that there was a hidden flaw at the end of the fracture; if it wasn't reinforced, the next heavy-load train would derail regardless.

Lin Wan didn't say a word. She didn't want to. There was no point in talking when no one would believe her anyway—it was better to let the tracks speak for themselves.

As the horizon began to pale with the first light of dawn, she finished the final weld. In the distance, a whistle pierced the morning air—the next train was heading their way. Lin Wan stood up, leaning on her hammer against the rail. She looked down at the repair she had completed with her own hands, a cold smirk still playing on her lips.

On the train, Zhao Jianguo was currently regaling the crew with the "harrowing" tale of his night. But Lin Wan knew that it wouldn't be long before the actual report came out. The direction of the cracks, the stress points, the method of repair—every single detail bore the mark of a professional engineer. It wasn't something that could be faked with a few words about "bravery."

She would wait. She had plenty of patience.

The rain stopped. The morning light hit the drenched rails, casting a cold, metallic glint. Lin Wan wiped the rainwater from her face, suddenly realizing that this body was far stronger than its original owner had ever imagined.