"It's freezing out here!"
George North stood in the snowy woods, shivering as he scanned the landscape in front of him.
Everything was blanketed in white—snow covered the ground so thick it looked like the whole world had been dipped in sugar.
He exhaled sharply; a puff of white mist floated up before vanishing into the cold air.
His eyebrows were frosted over, and an icicle dangled from his nose.
Wearing just a thin layer of clothes, he had no choice but to hug himself, trying to stay warm, though the cold kept creeping in, bone-deep and unforgiving.
He looked around—nothing but snow and wind. No sounds. No signs of life.
This forest felt like some forgotten place lost to time. No people, no heat—just cold and loneliness as far as the eye could see.
If not for the frozen skin and numb fingers, he might’ve wondered if he was still dreaming.
Yesterday, he’d been a top sniper with the Northeast Tigers, an elite special ops unit in 2024. He'd been on a mission, parachuting in to catch a fugitive, when the helicopter went down.
Next thing he knew, he woke up here—in 1958, in the dead of winter, deep in Northeast China.
New name, too. From Lin North to George North. And not just his name—his whole life had flipped. From a trained soldier to someone who couldn’t even afford a decent meal.
But there's no time to dwell on how crazy that is.
The guy who used to live in this body had already frozen to death out here.
Now it was up to George to live on for him.
…………
To be fair, the original George was a tough kid. Barely seventeen, but he’d risked it all to take care of his mom and sister.
He was the third child—there was an older brother and sister ahead of him. His mother? Well, rumor had it their father traded a hundred pounds of cornmeal for her. She was his second wife.
The first one? Got beat so bad she ran away, leaving a son and daughter behind.
George and his little sister Lily were born from the second wife.
But their father didn’t change after remarrying—instead, he got worse.
Mom had to do everything—she cooked, cleaned, and even took care of the grandparents.
In the middle of winter, her hands would crack from the cold, scabbed and bleeding. Yet that wasn’t enough to stop the beatings.
Once, just because she served dinner to Grandma a bit late, he smashed a chair over her head and left her covered in blood.
That was the last straw for George. He had it out with the family and tried to split off—he wanted to take his mom and sister away from that hellhole.
Because if they didn't leave, Mom might end up beaten to death. And Lily? She’d starve or freeze sooner or later.
………Splitting from the family—George’s mother had never really agreed to it. Her folks married her off hoping she’d stay out of trouble, even more so when her dad got sick. If he ever found out what kind of hell she was going through now, he’d be devastated. Might even get sick again from the shock.
She had always been the apple of his eye, pampered and loved like no other. Who’d have thought she’d end up in a mess like this?
If he knew, he’d definitely be out for blood. But with that frail body of his, getting riled up again might just be the end of him.
Still, when her husband raised his hand to hit George—who had only just gotten better—she finally came to her senses. If they didn’t leave, both her kids would be dead meat.
So she gritted her teeth. If dying was on the table, then at least they'd go together—her and the kids, all three of them.
What nobody knew was, she’d sneaked a small packet of rat poison into her pocket before they left.
George—the original one—had seen it, but he never said a word. He understood exactly what she was thinking, and he didn’t blame her, not one bit.
...
“Gotta hustle, or I won’t catch a thing. I’ll freeze to death out here!” George muttered to himself.
Truth be told, he had a lot of respect for the original George. If it weren’t for him, he'd just be some lost soul, drifting in this snowy wilderness.
So now, taking care of George’s family—that was something he had to do. It was the least he could do after taking over the guy’s body.
Problem was, the kid had good intentions but terrible hunting skills. Out here, with snow covering everything, he’d actually tried to sit and wait for a rabbit to run by.
And the trap? It was pitiful. Anyone could tell it was homemade by a rookie. Way too easy to spot, and placed in a bad spot to boot. No rabbit in its right mind would walk into that mess.
All George had to work with was a rope tied at his waist, a small knife, and this sorry excuse for a snare.
For most folks, hunting with gear like that would be a joke. Not to mention waiting for game to come to you was more like gambling—with your life.
And clearly, luck hadn’t been on the original George’s side.
George shook his head, broke down the clumsy trap, rolled up the snare, and went looking for a better place to set it up.
When he took it apart, he realized the trap wasn’t just bad—it was broken. Whoever set it had no real technique. Even if a rabbit had stumbled through, it wouldn’t have worked right. The height was off, and any half-aware bunny could just hop over it.
So he wandered the woods a bit longer, found a decent branch, and got to making a new trap.
This type of snare worked by using a rope loop that tightened when triggered. The bendy branch would provide tension, so once a rabbit set it off, the rope would close tight around its neck and choke it out. The more it struggled, the faster it would suffocate.
At its core, the trap came down to a hollow tube and a fresh, bendy root. He carefully carved a notch underneath with his knife to get it just right.At last, he took another branch, split it partway down the middle, and slipped a thinner twig through the small hole in the hollow tube. On the other side, he jammed the split stick over it to hold everything steady.
The height had to be just right—low enough for a rabbit to try to squeeze under, but high enough so that its back would hit the crossbar. Once the rabbit knocked the bar loose, the bent branch would snap up, pulling the noose tight around its neck.
When that happened, the startled rabbit would thrash like crazy, only tightening the loop more—until it choked itself to death.
The trap was simple in theory, but setting it up right was another story. Winter hunting was a pain; rabbits were hard to find with so little food around. Even when they dared to come out, they had to watch out for wild predators lurking in the woods.
That made them sneaky and careful with every move.
But George North didn’t worry. He used to be a top-tier special forces sniper—his tracking skills were sharper than a bloodhound’s. He knew rabbits had patterns, and he knew how to spot them.
After finishing up that trap, he decided to head elsewhere to set up another.
Right then, he heard a faint little cry in the woods. “Brother! Brother?”
George froze. He looked toward the sound and spotted a tiny figure pushing through the snow. Her cheeks were bright red from the cold, and that oversized scarf wrapped around her head had frosty bits clinging to it. The snow was nearly up to her waist, but she was still holding a little cloth bundle above her head and trudging forward.
It was his little sister, Lily North.
She was only four. Getting lost out here could’ve easily killed her.
George broke into a run. Snow exploded around him as he pushed forward. The snow was too deep to run well—he had to half-crawl, half-fall his way toward her.
When he finally reached her, he immediately scolded, “What are you doing out here? Where’s Ma? Did she actually let you come?”
Lily blinked her big dark eyes at him and raised the bundle higher. “Brother, I brought this for you.”
George was stunned. He eyed the bundle, then quickly lifted her into his arms. Lily shoved the parcel into his chest and said, “Uncle brought it. Mom wouldn’t touch it. I figured you left without breakfast… So I brought it for you.”
That soft voice hit George right in the heart.
Sure, the family was poor, and this place wasn’t easy to live in. But growing up as an only child, he’d never felt anything like this—this warmth of having someone care about him like a sibling would.
Now he got it. He finally understood why the boy before him risked everything to go hunting in this freezing forest.
A smile crept onto George’s face. The cold wind stung at the frostbite on his skin, but he didn’t care.
He gently said, “Let’s save it for now. When I catch a rabbit, we’ll cook it into soup together, okay?”
The little girl clapped her hands excitedly, eyes shining. “Really? Yay! We get to eat meat? I don’t even know what it tastes like!”