This story is set in a fictional world, and both the male and female protagonists are not perfect characters.
1987, Wan Chai, Hong Kong.
On a spring afternoon, the streets were filled with a mingled scent of salty sea air and the bustling life of the city.
The signboard of Chan’s Congee Shop gleamed with an oily sheen under the sun. The shop had been open for over twenty years, dating back to when Wan Chai was still a shantytown.
The owner, Uncle Chen, was a thin man in his fifties, with deep wrinkles on his face but always a smile.
His specialty was the bowl of chicken offal congee—finely chopped chicken liver, intestines, and heart, simmered in a smooth, soft rice porridge, a flavor most familiar to Hong Kongers.
“One bowl of chicken offal congee!” a waiter called out from the front.
Uncle Chen responded, skillfully ladling a scoop of congee, sprinkling it with chopped scallions and pepper, and carrying it to a table by the window.
The customer was an elderly gentleman dressed in traditional Chinese attire, his hair graying, squinting as he watched the television hanging on the wall.
The news was playing on the TV, and the female anchor reported in Cantonese:
“Breaking news from our station: The Gu family of Xinda Group is embroiled in yet another high-society feud.”
“It is reported that the Gu family’s heiress, Gu Xihe, dissatisfied with her parents’ interference in her love life and their forced engagement to the son of shipping magnate Li Xuan, attempted suicide by taking pills two days ago…”
The noisy chatter in the congee shop quieted slightly as diners looked up at the television.
The screen switched to the entrance of Hong Kong Sanatorium & Hospital in Happy Valley, where a reporter spoke rapidly into a microphone:
“According to insiders, Miss Gu resorted to this extreme measure in defiance of an arranged marriage, intending to elope with her mainland boyfriend, but the plan failed.”
“The mainland man regretted his decision after taking the pills and called for help. While Miss Gu’s life was saved, she remains in a deep coma, and her condition is not optimistic.”
The screen shifted to a candid photograph.
“Yesterday evening, our reporters captured Xinda Group Chairman Gu Bingwen leaving the hospital in a hurry, his expression cold, refusing all interviews.”
“It is understood that Chairman Gu did not return to the Gu family mansion on The Peak afterward but instead sought solace at the residence of his second wife in Hung Hom.”
“As is well known, aside from his eldest daughter Gu Xihe, Chairman Gu also has a son, born to his second wife…”
“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” a middle-aged woman at the next table whispered to her companion. “That Miss Gu is foolish, risking her life for a poor boy. How could her parents ever agree to it?”
“Exactly,” her companion chimed in. “I heard that mainland boy works in a gold shop. He’s handsome, but what good is that? No money, no influence. How could the Gu family let their heiress marry him?”
“If you ask me, Chairman Gu isn’t a good man either. His daughter is lying in the hospital, and he runs off to his second wife for comfort…”
“Boss, we’d like an extra order of chicken feet! Make them soft and tender!” a customer at a corner table shouted loudly, interrupting the news broadcast.
“Coming right up!”
The owner tore his gaze away from the television, deftly scooping chicken feet from the braising pot while shaking his head helplessly and sighing softly:
“Ah, so young, born with a silver spoon in her mouth… How could she not cherish her life? If her charitable grandfather knew about this in the afterlife, how heartbroken he would be…”
Hong Kong Sanatorium & Hospital, VIP Ward.
This hospital room was located on the top floor of the building. Beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows, the distant view of Victoria Harbour stretched out, with cargo ships and fishing boats crisscrossing the sea.
Yet at this moment, no one had the heart to appreciate the scenery.
On the hospital bed lay a young woman with her eyes tightly shut, her face as pale as paper, her lips devoid of any color.
Her features were delicate, and between her brows and eyes, there was an air of cool elegance. Even lying in the hospital bed, it was clear she was a beauty.
But at this moment, there was not a trace of vitality on her face, like a flower on the verge of withering.
She was the female lead from the television news—the eldest daughter of the Xinda Group, Gu Xihe.
On the sofa nearby, a middle-aged woman in her forties sat, continuously wiping away tears.
She wore an elegant cheongsam, her hair tied up in a bun, with two emerald green jade earrings dangling from her earlobes. At a glance, she was clearly a woman of privilege who had lived a life of comfort.
But now, the dark circles beneath her eyes betrayed the torment of the past two days, and her once well-maintained face bore traces of weariness.
She was the lawful wife of Xinda Group’s head, Gu Bingwen, and Gu Xihe’s mother—Ming Lan.
“Sister Wen,” she asked, her voice hoarse, “has Xihe been like this all these two days? The doctor said… the doctor said if she doesn’t wake up soon, the chances of her ever waking up will grow even slimmer…”
By the end, her voice was choked with sobs.
Sister Wen, standing nearby, quickly stepped forward and offered a cup of warm water: “Madam, please have some water first. Miss has always been blessed by fortune; she will surely wake up.”
Sister Wen was in her fifties and had been Gu Xihe’s nanny since childhood, having raised her.
Her grief was no less than Ming Lan’s, and for the past two days, she had kept vigil here without rest.
“Madam, please don’t worry,” Sister Wen said softly, holding back her tears. “I haven’t dared to close my eyes, keeping watch all the time. Miss has always been blessed by fortune; she will surely wake up.”
Ming Lan took the cup but did not drink.
“Sister Wen, I’ve been thinking these past two days,” she said quietly, as if speaking to herself.
“If I had known it would come to this, I shouldn’t have forced her to get engaged to the Li family. So what if that man was a poor boy from the mainland? At worst, we could have had him marry into our family. That would still be better than now. At the very least… at the very least, my daughter would still be alive and well.”
Sister Wen lowered her head, wiping away the tears at the corner of her eyes with the back of her hand.
She sighed inwardly. If only they had known then what they knew now. Back then, hadn’t she and the master both pressured Miss, insisting she marry that young master of the Li family?
What kind of person was that Li Xuan? Everyone in Hong Kong knew.
He was constantly entangled with several female celebrities and beauty pageant winners, and just two months ago, he was photographed with two women in a nightclub, causing a huge scandal in the newspapers.
Yet despite this, the master and madam insisted on marrying Miss to him, talking about matching social status and powerful alliances.
When Miss refused, they locked her up at home, forbidding her from going out or seeing her boyfriend from the mainland.
How many times had Miss pleaded? How many times had she cried? But they never relented.
And in the end… in the end, it had come to this.
Lost in their grief, neither of them noticed the faint tremor in the fingers of the woman lying on the hospital bed, who had shown no signs of life until now.
Gu Wangshu did not know how long she had been drifting in this darkness.
She only remembered walking across the Bridge of Helplessness, and then… then she remembered nothing at all.
She thought she would simply dissipate, but now, she could hear voices.
Could it be that she had been reincarnated?
The sound of crying came intermittently, not very loud, but it clearly reached her ears.
She tried to open her eyes, but her eyelids felt as heavy as if weighed down by a thousand-pound stone.
With great effort, she managed to open a tiny slit, only for a blinding white light to shoot straight in, forcing her to close them again immediately.
What was going on?
Hadn’t she already died? How could she still perceive light?
Wait.
With her eyes closed, she attempted to wiggle her fingers.
They moved.
What about her toes?
It seemed… they could move too.
An indescribable feeling rose in Gu Wangshu’s heart.
Carefully, she slowly raised her hand.
“Xixi! Xixi!”
“Miss! Miss is awake!”
The voices in her ears suddenly became clear and noisy.
Xixi? Wasn’t that her cousin Gu Xihe’s nickname? Gu Wangshu’s mind was in chaos.
“Doctor! Go get the doctor!”
Immediately afterward, Gu Wangshu felt her eyelids being gently pried open, and a blinding flashlight beam shone directly into her pupils.
“Miss Gu, can you hear me?” an unfamiliar male voice sounded beside her ear.
Enduring the pain and dizziness brought by the intense light, Gu Wangshu blinked forcefully and finally opened her eyes completely.
Her vision gradually shifted from blurry to clear.
In her line of sight, aside from the doctor in a white coat, was a face streaked with tears—both familiar and unfamiliar.
That was…
Gu Wangshu froze.
Though time had left its marks on that face, she recognized it at a glance.
This was her aunt, Ming Lan.
“Miss Gu, Miss Gu, can you hear me?” the doctor asked again, interrupting her thoughts.
Gu Wangshu instinctively nodded.
She opened her mouth, but her throat was as dry as if it had been scorched by fire, and no sound came out.
“Ah! Xixi! You’re finally awake! You really scared Mommy to death!”
Ming Lan cried tears of joy, lunging forward to hug her but was politely stopped by the doctor.
“Mrs. Gu, please step aside for a moment. I need to conduct a thorough examination of Miss Gu.”
Mommy?
A bolt of lightning flashed through Gu Wangshu’s mind.
She lowered her head and looked at her own hand—slender, fair, without the bruises left by long-term IV drips.
This wasn’t just waking up.
This was Soul Transmigration.