It was late spring, the third lunar month, and the spring sunlight was bright and beautiful.
Willow catkins drifted and danced through the air, scattering from the sky across the entire city of Jinling.
The main thoroughfare was crowded. A finely carved and decorated carriage traveled slowly through the street; wherever it passed, pedestrians moved aside like flowing water. None complained, letting the carriage, which was adorned with silver bells at its four corners, pass first.
Everyone in Jinling knew that this was the carriage of the Pei family, one of the most prominent noble households in the city.
A child by the roadside, piqued by curiosity at the sound of the silver bells, pulled along a playmate to chase after the carriage. However, beneath the crisp tinkling of the bells, a series of “Atchoo!” sounds followed in quick succession.
Inside the carriage, Xia Jian held the curtain that was fluttering in the wind, but she couldn’t block out the flying catkins. She let out another sneeze, her eyes turning red and streaming with tears.
She was truly fed up. She had been allergic to willow catkins in her past life; she hadn’t expected this ailment to follow her into the next.
The maid following outside lifted the tightly held curtain for the fifth time. “Cousin Miss, are you sure you aren’t running a fever?”
“I’m not, I’m really not.”
The young maid had heard her sneezing the entire way and feared this girl from the countryside might be carrying some infectious disease. After staring at her for a moment, the maid condescendingly reached out and touched her forehead.
It was cool to the touch; there was nothing wrong with her.
The curtain was slapped back down. Xia Jian used a handkerchief to wipe away the tears triggered by her sneezing. She heard the maid outside ask, “Cousin Miss, having traveled all this way, is the Pei family’s carriage comfortable to sit in?”
“Yes, it’s comfortable.”
Xia Jian said this, but in her heart, she thought it was actually quite the opposite.
She was used to modern cars. Even with the thick cotton cushions lined at the bottom of this carriage, she felt like her bones were about to rattle apart.
The little maid outside began to marvel again at how lucky Xia Jian was. An orphaned girl, relying on a distant connection with the Madam to enter their lofty Pei manor—it was truly a blessing earned over eight lifetimes of virtue.
Xia Jian thought to herself: If this is such a blessing, do you want it?
The original owner of this body certainly hadn’t wanted it. As soon as she learned she was to enter the rumored haunted Pei manor to become a future titled lady, she had jumped into a river in a fit of desperation. When she was fished out the next day, her body was ice-cold, and Xia Jian’s soul was stuffed into it.
When she first opened her eyes, she had given her foster parents at the country villa a fright. They thought she was dead for sure; seeing her awake, they wept and prayed to Buddha.
After three days of drinking “All-Inclusive Tonic Soup,” Xia Jian’s wandering soul finally settled, and she realized where she was.
As it turned out, she had undergone a book-transmigration.
However, while others transmigrated as the female lead with a lucky group-favorite fate, or as a supporting female lead who counter-attacks to become a heartthrob, she had transmigrated as a short-lived cannon fodder. She appeared at the start of the first volume and was “served her lunch box” (killed off) by the end of it. Her entire script consisted of only three lines: “Good morning, Cousin,” “Good afternoon, Cousin,” and “Good evening, Cousin.”
But cannon fodder was fine. No one ever said a cannon fodder couldn’t change their fate.
The cannon fodder Xia Jian recalled the original plot.
The book was titled That Business in the Jianghu, and it mainly told the story of the male and female leads falling in love while traveling the martial world.
Knowing the iron laws of book-transmigration, Xia Jian asked, “Alright, who do I need to charm? Is it the male lead, the second male lead, the third, or the fourth?”
The System replied, “None of them.”
As soon as the words fell, a black cord appeared out of thin air around her neck, swaying under the weight of an object hanging from it.
Xia Jian looked down; it was a black crystal pendant.
“…What is this?”
System: “A binding token.”
“A binding token?” Xia Jian was confused.
“Yes. The Host’s life is now bound to the supporting male character, Pei Guanzhu. If he dies, you die. If he lives, you live.”
Xia Jian’s head buzzed.
“What do you mean? You don’t want me to romance him?”
“No. We need you to protect Pei Guanzhu’s life. Only then can you return to the real world alive.”
Xia Jian almost fainted.
Damn it! Of all the people whose lives you could make me protect! Of all the people you could bind me to! You bound me to Pei Guanzhu!
Just now, when Xia Jian had asked who she needed to charm, she had been secretly praying that it wouldn’t be Pei Guanzhu.
Because Pei Guanzhu was the ultimate villain of this book and the only male character who never fell for the female lead. He also died young. The original novel had over two hundred chapters, yet he went offline by chapter fifty.
The System explained the reason.
In short, because the villain Pei Guanzhu’s methods were extremely perverted and cruel, every plot point involving him was too bloody and violent. Readers and publishers had boycotted the book, so the author began to drastically delete and alter all scenes related to his character.
“Is he still in this world then?”
System: “He is, but he no longer has a protagonist halo. He is just like an ordinary cannon fodder. He might die if he gets sick, or he might be killed just by walking down the street. We only need you to do one thing: protect Pei Guanzhu’s life.”
Xia Jian stepped out of the carriage. Looking at the plaque engraved with “Pei Manor,” she felt as though she were stepping into the gates of hell.
Seeing her gaze, the maid said, “Our Pei manor is quite grand. Cousin Miss, do not stare foolishly once you enter. You have to meet the Madam in a moment; don’t let the people of the household look down on you!”
Xia Jian: “…” Why does everyone treat me like a country bumpkin entering the capital?
But the Pei manor was indeed magnificent and grand.
Located in a prime area of Jinling where land was worth its weight in gold, the family had been officials for generations. The current head of the house was the Senior Grand Secretary of the Inner Cabinet, Pei Yucheng. The interior was filled with carved beams and painted rafters, covered walkways, and courtyards featuring exquisitely carved rockeries and small ponds where spring water tinkled amidst lush greenery.
However, as soon as they passed through the festive gate and into the main hall, that grand and bright atmosphere felt severed, as if by a border.
Before she even crossed the threshold of the main hall, Xia Jian smelled a thick scent of sandalwood. Looking up, she saw a shrine set up in the dim hall, laden with various fresh fruits as offerings. A cluster of red candles burned on either side, and on a square wooden table nearby sat a massive pig’s head, severed cleanly at the neck. She didn’t know how long it had been there. When Xia Jian raised her eyes, she met the gaze of the dead pig, and her whole body began to feel uneasy.
A matron held back the curtain for her, and Xia Jian finally saw Madam Chen, whom the maid had been talking about the whole way.
In the original owner’s memory, this was also the first time meeting Madam Chen.
Although the original owner was the “Cousin Miss,” she was actually distantly related to Madam Chen.
Madam Chen was the second wife of Grand Secretary Pei. After marrying into this noble house, she had proactively severed ties with her poor relatives.
Madam Chen appeared to be in her thirties or forties, with a slightly rounded belly. Her reaction upon seeing Xia Jian was cold; she didn’t even spare a smile. She waved away the matron who was about to bring a chair, leaving Xia Jian to stand.
The sandalwood incense in the room was strong. Stimulated by the smell, Xia Jian felt the urge to sneeze again…
“Your appearance is beyond my expectations. It seems… not quite like the portrait?”
Of course it wasn’t; as she had transmigrated, her face had become her original one from her past life. The System had altered the memories of everyone around her.
Madam Chen covered her mouth with a handkerchief. There was a faint blue tint under her eyes. she told Xia Jian to enjoy herself in the manor and not be formal. Finally, she made Xia Jian turn around, muttering softly like she was evaluating a piece of merchandise, “With such a look, it cannot be said that I, as his stepmother, have mistreated him.”
Xia Jian naturally knew who the “him” she referred to was.
Xia Jian’s visit was framed as a temporary stay for leisure, but in reality, it was for a marriage match. The original novel mentioned that Madam Chen wanted someone to enter the manor to ward off misfortune through marriage.
And the person she was to marry was Pei Guanzhu.
In the original story, however, the original owner had died unexpectedly before the day she could marry him.
The maid led Xia Jian through the corridors toward her future residence.
“Cousin Miss has a fine appearance; the Madam likes you very much.”
Xia Jian gave two dry laughs but didn’t respond.
She certainly couldn’t see how that cold-eyed Madam Chen liked her.
In the original text, the original owner had tried to please Madam Chen in every possible way, but the woman had remained utterly repulsed.
Though the reason wasn’t clear, Xia Jian guessed it was because Madam Chen was exhausted by the “hauntings” and had no energy for anyone else.
“Sister Shaoyao,” Xia Jian walked to the side of the maid named Shaoyao. This body was identical to her previous one, slightly taller than the average ancient woman. She leaned in and said, “I have something I want to ask you.”
Shaoyao thought to herself: Here it comes. She’s definitely going to ask about the hauntings.
The girl, her hair styled in twin buns, looked at her with clear, smiling eyes. “I want to ask Sister Shaoyao a few things regarding Young Master Pei.”
Shaoyao was slightly surprised. “What does Cousin Miss wish to know?”
Xia Jian swallowed hard, pouring out the worries she had held for days.
“Which courtyard does Young Master Pei live in? Is his health alright? I heard he has been sickly since birth—that he coughs every three steps and his limbs lose strength every five steps. At what age did this weakness start? Does he eat regularly? Does he eat much? Is it the appetite of a normal male? Has he been sick recently? How is his body right now?”
Shaoyao: “…”
Shaoyao doubted her own ears. Looking up, she saw that the concern in Xia Jian’s eyes didn’t seem fake. The girl’s brow was furrowed, and her fingers were secretly fishing out a bulging silk pouch from her sleeve.
“Ah, this…”
Shaoyao focused her gaze on the pouch placed in her palm. It was heavy; she estimated the amount inside wasn’t small.
Xia Jian stood before Shaoyao, waiting with a concerned gaze.
A mountain breeze suddenly arrived, blowing the red silk ribbons hanging on both sides of the veranda. Xia Jian turned her head, looking toward the end of the long corridor that stretched into pitch darkness. She tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear.
But as she looked back, she saw someone sitting on a red bench beneath the corridor not far from them. Their figure was hidden by a massive pillar, revealing only a pale, beautiful foot. The thick sole of a wooden clog rested on the bluestone floor, and above the slender ankle sat a gold ring of moderate thickness.
Xia Jian’s breath hitched. Shaoyao’s small voice beside her was scattered by the mountain breeze, leaving only the whistling wind. Behind the red pillar of the corridor, Xia Jian saw a pale, smiling face peek out.
Xia Jian’s eyes widened, a cold sweat breaking out over her body.
The mountain breeze carried willow catkins from afar. Xia Jian felt chilled to the bone. Her nose itched, and she let out a forceful sound toward the person: “A… Atchoo!”