In the 1960s: A Vicious, Alluring Beauty Is Forcibly Claimed
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Summary

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In the summer of 1963, Qin Yunxi, a woman driven by self-preservation and social ambition, remarries Bai Anrong, the director of a textile factory in Harbin, to escape the impending labor reform that threatened her and her fifteen-year-old daughter, Qin Sang, after Sang’s biological father was politically implicated in Shanghai. Sang, a strikingly beautiful and calculating adolescent who mirrors her mother’s cold pragmatism, adapts quickly to their new life, viewing relationships through a lens of utility and advantage. The family’s integration is tested during a visit to Bai Anrong’s elder brother, Bai Anhua, a steel factory director, where Sang engages in a verbal and physical confrontation with her new step-sister, Bai Tingting. Sang strategically manipulates the situation, causing Tingting to injure herself while avoiding blame, a victory that is soon overshadowed by the revelation that Tingting is not the biological daughter of the Bai family but was swapped at birth with another child by a resentful wet nurse.

Months later, Sang encounters a fugitive man named Pei Che in an alley while waiting for her mother; he is wounded and being hunted by armed men. Although she initially helps him by bandaging his wound, her true nature emerges when she tightens the bandage to inflict pain and kicks his injury before fleeing. This encounter leaves a lasting impression on Pei Che, who recognizes her as the malicious child who outsmarted him. As time passes, Sang excels academically and forms a transactional friendship with her deskmate, Yuan Yuan, who provides her with food and favors in exchange for companionship. However, the political landscape shifts dramatically in May 1966 when the college entrance examination is suspended indefinitely, shattering Sang’s plans for university and forcing her to seek employment in a restrictive planned economy.

Struggling to find a position that meets her high standards, Sang faces pressure from neighborhood committees to send a family member to the countryside for labor reform. Her mother, Qin Yunxi, successfully manipulates her husband into believing that Sang is willing to sacrifice herself for her stepbrother, Bai Zhixin, prompting Bai Anrong to use his connections to secure a job for Sang instead. Meanwhile, the secret of the switched babies comes to light when the biological daughter of the wet nurse, Bai Lanlan, is identified and brought into the Bai household, creating a complex dynamic between the two girls who were raised in swapped circumstances. Tingting, having secured a clerical job through family connections, becomes a point of comparison and resentment for Sang, who refuses to accept any position she deems beneath her, leading to a period of unemployment while her mother spends savings to buy her a more prestigious role.

Three years after their initial encounter, Sang and Yuan Yuan meet Pei Che and his friend Zhao Hongsen at a state-run restaurant. Sang openly criticizes Pei Che’s appearance and character to Yuan Yuan, unaware that Pei Che can hear her and recognizes her as the same girl who had previously tormented him. The narrative highlights the growing tension between Sang’s calculated social climbing and the unpredictable forces of political turmoil and personal history that threaten to disrupt her carefully constructed life. As the Cultural Revolution intensifies, the family faces new challenges, with Bai Zhixin becoming involved in radical activities and the household dynamics fracturing under the weight of past secrets and present hardships. Sang’s beauty and intelligence remain her primary assets, but her ruthless approach to survival places her in direct conflict with those around her, including the increasingly volatile Pei Che, setting the stage for a collision between their divergent paths.

Novel Items

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Item
One of three meat dishes Qin Yunxi bought from the state-run restaurant for her daughter Sang Sang. Such a meal with multiple meat dishes was considered a holiday-level treat for an ordinary family.
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One of the meat dishes Qin Yunxi purchased from the state-run restaurant for Sang Sang. It was one of Sang Sang's favorite dishes.
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One of the three meat dishes Qin Yunxi bought from the state-run restaurant. Sang Sang ate it quickly as she was very hungry having only had malted milk and pastries since the previous night.
Food
Two cans purchased by Gu Yizhi along with other snacks.
Materials
Coupons brought from Shanghai used to purchase clothing at Harbin's department store. Qin Yunxi calculated how many they had before letting Sang Sang pick out a sweater and cotton-padded jacket.
Coupons
Coupons for meat sent by Zeng Cheng's father, totaling five jin. By the time they collected them, only three jin of meat and two jin of ribs remained for sale. These were used for the wedding banquet preparations.
Latest Release
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2026-08-11shanghai fantasy c10
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2026-08-11shanghai fantasy c1

Community Reviews

Rating(4.6 / 5.0, 14votes)
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I need to talk about Qin Yunxi and Qin Sang because holy shit these two are something else. I went in expecting a generic revenge story but what I got was a mother-daughter duo so ruthlessly pragmatic it actually made me sit up straight. The way the text describes Qin Yunxi's worldview is chilling in its honesty: "If they did, she would make an effort to maintain the relationship. If not, she would treat them coldly." And men? "Men were replaceable." She divorced her husband right before he got reported, remarried a factory director, and moved her daughter across the country—all within months. No guilt, no hesitation. Just cold calculation. But here's what got me: Qin Sang is literally her clone. When her step-sister Bai Tingting calls her "baggage," Sang Sang doesn't even flinch. She's already plotting how to make the girl pay. And that scene where she hides behind Bai Zhixin so Tingting slaps him instead? Chef's kiss. Absolutely diabolical. "Qin Sang took after her mother—selfish, self-serving, cold, and even more so." This line hit me like a truck. The author isn't hiding anything about these characters. They know exactly who they are. What I love most is their relationship with each other. There's no sappy mother-daughter bonding here. Instead, there's this unspoken understanding—like they're partners in crime who don't need to say it out loud. When Sang Sang pretends to have no appetite but secretly eats pastries in her room? Her mother knows. And she doesn't care. That's their love language. The Bai family dynamics are equally fascinating. Bai Anrong is so wrapped up in his fantasy about Qin Yunxi being his "white moonlight" that he can't see the manipulation happening right in front of him. Meanwhile, Bai Zhixin is this awkward teenager who actually has a conscience—he defends Sang Sang and gets slapped for it. I kind of rooted for him even though he's clearly being played. And Bai Tingting? She's the perfect antagonist because she's so openly hateful that you can't help but want her to get what's coming to her. But then the author drops that bomb about her not being the Bai family's biological child, and suddenly everything shifts. Karma for calling Sang Sang "baggage"—she herself is the illegitimate one. I laughed out loud.
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Okay so I started reading this at 10pm and it is now 2am and I have read seven chapters and I need to talk about the pacing because the author is a menace. Chapter 1 establishes the world, the characters, and the central conflict in what feels like three pages. We get the gossiping women at the well, we meet Qin Yunxi and Sang Sang, we learn about the divorce and remarriage, and we're already heading toward the family visit. No wasted words. No filler. Just pure forward momentum. The transition from Chapter 1 to Chapter 2 is seamless. One moment they're arriving at the Bai family home, the next we're in the middle of the conflict with Bai Tingting. The author doesn't slow down to explain everything—she drops you right into the drama and lets you figure it out as you go. This is how you keep a reader hooked. But what really impressed me is how the author controls tension. The scene with Bai Tingting bullying Sang Sang builds slowly—insult by insult, escalation by escalation—until you're practically holding your breath. Then Sang Sang turns the tables, and the slap lands, and the head injury happens, and suddenly the whole family is in chaos. All of this unfolds in real time, and the pacing makes it feel even more intense. "Ahhh! Help! Murder! I'm going to die!" Bai Tingting's hysterical wailing is both terrifying and darkly comedic. The author knows exactly when to let the scene breathe and when to speed it up. The revelation in Chapter 3 about Bai Tingting not being the biological child is the kind of cliffhanger that makes you immediately click to the next chapter. It's not just a plot twist—it recontextualizes everything that came before. Every insult, every judgment, every moment of superiority from the Bai family suddenly has a new meaning. The chapter endings are particularly well-crafted. Chapter 2 ends with Sang Sang secretly eating pastries while pretending to be sick—a perfect moment of dark humor that undercuts the drama. Chapter 3 ends with Sang Sang's internal monologue about revenge, which sets up the next phase of the story while giving us a glimpse into her calculating mind. There's one moment where I wanted the author to slow down—when Qin Yunxi is explaining her reasoning for divorcing Han Xiaosheng. It's important backstory, but it comes in a big block of exposition. However, the author saves it by keeping it brief and ending with Sang Sang's pragmatic agreement, which keeps the scene moving. Overall? The pacing is relentless in the best way. Every chapter ends with a hook, every scene advances the plot or develops character, and there's zero fat. I'm already wondering if the next batch will maintain this energy.
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Let's talk about Sang Sang's voice because it is DELICIOUS. The dialogue in this book is sharp and each character has a distinct way of speaking. Sang Sang's voice is the star of the show. She switches registers like a pro—sweet and coquettish with the sales clerk, terrified and whimpering in front of the armed men, cold and dismissive with her classmates, and manipulative with Bai Zhixin. Each mode feels completely natural because it's rooted in her motivation. With the sales clerk, she's all 'Thank you, Sister Wang. You look just like an older sister—I won't call you aunt!' The flattery is so smooth it's almost comical. And the clerk eats it up: 'You've got such a sweet mouth, little girl.' This exchange tells us everything about Sang Sang's character in just a few lines. With the armed men, her voice shifts to performative vulnerability: 'Ah! Mister, what are you doing? My face is dirty... You're bullying me! I'm going to tell my dad when I get home, wuu…' The onomatopoeia of her crying is almost cartoonish, but that's the point—she's putting on a show and it's a GOOD show. With Yuan Yuan, she's brutally cold: 'Why are you making noise in front of my seat? It's break time—I want to rest. Move along.' No pretense, no sweetness. Just pure dismissal. And the narrative voice itself is wonderful—wry, observant, with a dry humor that matches Sang Sang's own personality. Lines like 'In all his twenty-plus years, this was the first time Pei Che had been outplayed in the gutter' have this perfect deadpan quality. The narrator isn't just telling us what happened; they're commenting on it with a raised eyebrow. Bai Zhixin's dialogue is simpler, more straightforward, which contrasts nicely with Sang Sang's verbal agility. He's the kind of guy who says exactly what he means and has no idea he's being played.
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There's a line at the very beginning that's been stuck in my head: 'only the one who drinks the water knows whether it's warm or cold.' This feels like the key to the whole story. Sang Sang and her mother have left Shanghai for Harbin—a colder place, both literally and socially. The cold is a recurring motif. Qin Yunxi worries about winter clothing, about wool coats not being enough. But the cold is also metaphorical. Harbin is a place where no one knows their past, where they can reinvent themselves. Survival here requires a different kind of warmth—social warmth, the kind Sang Sang generates through charm and calculation. The department store scene is rich with symbolism about scarcity and value. Fabric coupons, meat coupons, yarn coupons—everything is rationed, everything has a price. Sang Sang understands this better than anyone. She knows that a kind word to a clerk could mean better goods later. In a world where resources are limited, social capital becomes currency. Then there's the alley scene, which flips the whole theme on its head. Here, the currency isn't coupons or charm—it's violence. Pei Che represents a different kind of survival, one that's brutal and immediate. He's injured, hunted, and still manages to threaten a fifteen-year-old girl. But she turns the tables. Her kick to his wound is symbolic: the seemingly weak overpowering the strong, the civilian surviving in a world of guns and spies. The headscarf is another symbol I can't stop thinking about. Sang Sang wraps it around her face to hide her beauty—her most valuable asset—from the men searching for Pei Che. She literally covers up her advantage to survive. And then she uses the same scarf to bandage (and tighten) Pei Che's wound, turning her protection into a weapon. The chocolate Yuan Yuan offers at the end feels like a symbol of innocence and genuine kindness in a world where everything is transactional. Sang Sang's momentary sadness when she thinks of her father buying those expensive snacks in Shanghai suggests she still remembers a time before survival became her default mode. But how long will that last?
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The setting in this book is doing so much heavy lifting and I'm here for it. Chapter 1 opens with this incredibly vivid scene of middle-aged women in "dark, coarse cloth clothes" gathered around a communal well, washing laundry and gossiping. You can literally feel the humidity, hear the splashing water, see the faded colors of everyone's outfits. The author doesn't need fancy descriptions—just the right details and the world comes alive. "The weather was unusually cool for summer, easing the intense heat of the past few days." This one line tells you so much about the time period. We're in 1963 China, during what must have been a difficult era, and the weather itself feels like a character—oppressive heat broken by rare moments of relief. The contrast between Shanghai and Harbin is subtle but powerful. Shanghai is where Qin Yunxi and Sang Sang came from—the place of their former comfort, their father's research institute, the state-run restaurants where they could afford meat dishes. Harbin is the new world, the factory quarters, the steel factory that represents Bai Anrong's status but also the beginning of their complicated new life. The Bai family home is described through Sang Sang's eyes, and it's fascinating how she assesses everything. The building blocks, the table corners, the way people position themselves in rooms—it's all filtered through this calculating fourteen-year-old's perspective. The setting becomes a chessboard. "Bai Anhua also worked as a director, but at a steel factory, where the position and status were far better than those of the textile factory." This single sentence establishes the entire social hierarchy of this world. Steel factory director > textile factory director. It's a small detail but it tells you everything about where people stand and why marriages are arranged the way they are. The communal well scene is particularly brilliant because it establishes the gossip network that will likely follow Qin Yunxi and Sang Sang throughout the story. In a close-knit factory community, reputation is everything—and these women are already judging them before they even cross the threshold. I also love how the author uses food as a marker of status and warmth. The three meat dishes—braised pork with vermicelli, sweet-and-sour fried pork, pan-fried hairtail—are described with such specificity that you can almost smell them. For an ordinary family, such a meal would only appear during holidays. This isn't just dinner; it's love, it's sacrifice, it's the kind of thing a mother does when she wants to make up for lost time.
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I need to talk about Yuan Yuan and how this character completely won me over. At first, she seems like just the food-obsessed deskmate, right? But the moment Sang Sang offers her the fatty pork... that scene hit me so hard. Yuan Yuan's reaction—her eyes reddening, thinking Qin Sang is as kind as she is beautiful—this is the kind of character moment that makes you realize how much these two have grown together. And then there's Bai Lanlan. God, the author did something brilliant with her. When she sees Sang Sang at that family meal, picking at vegetables while everyone else fights over meat... the inferiority complex just radiates off the page. "She was wearing a white sweater with a black skirt... compared to her own new outfit, it suddenly looked unbearably plain." This is such a raw, honest portrayal of class consciousness and self-worth. Bai Lanlan isn't just a plot device—she's a fully realized person shaped by fifteen years of hardship. But what really got me was Sang Sang herself. "Though Sang Sang was selfish, her heart wasn't made of stone. She did love her father. It was just that… she loved herself even more." This line. This single line tells us everything about her character. She's not a villain—she's just painfully honest about her own nature. And yet she still shares her food, still protects Yuan Yuan, still navigates this bizarre family situation with grace. The dynamic between Sang Sang and Yuan Yuan is honestly one of the most beautiful friendships I've read. Three years of Yuan Yuan doing everything for Sang Sang—running errands, cleaning, washing lunchboxes—and Sang Sang never once taking it for granted. When she tells Yuan Yuan to study harder, it's her way of showing she cares. "Don't you want us to live in the same city?" That's not manipulation—that's love in a language only they understand. And Bai Tingting! The fact that she's still around, that she's been kept and raised alongside her biological sister... the author sets this up perfectly for future conflict. Sang Sang thinks she'll just keep making things difficult for her, but the narration hints that Bai Tingting has changed. I'm dying to see how this rivalry evolves.
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