Shen Jin slept straight through until noon. It wasn’t laziness—she was simply exhausted. Last night’s “dream” had drained her physically, and the shock of transmigration left her feeling as though she’d been run over by a truck. Every muscle ached.
Chun Tao tried waking her three times, but Shen Jin just buried her head under the quilt.
On the fourth attempt, Chun Tao grew anxious. “Miss! Madam sent word—you’re to come to the main courtyard for lunch!”
Shen Jin poked half her face out from under the covers. “Not going.”
“But Madam said—”
“Tell her I’m unwell and can’t get out of bed. I’ll pay respects another day.”
Chun Tao stamped her foot. “Miss, you can’t! Madam is the mistress of the household. If you don’t go, people will gossip!”
Shen Jin rolled over, with her back to her. “Chun Tao, come here.”
The maid hesitated, then edged closer.
Shen Jin patted the bedside, signaling her to sit.
Nervously, Chun Tao perched halfway down.
“Tell me,” Shen Jin asked with eyes closed, “who runs this household?”
“The General, of course.”
“And besides him?”
“M-Madam?”
“And whose daughter am I?”
“The General’s daughter.”
“Then why should the General’s daughter bow and scrape to a stepmother so diligently?”
Chun Tao opened her mouth but had no answer.
In the original Shen Jinshu’s memories, she both feared and resented her stepmother. Resented her for taking her mother’s place, feared her tattling to Father. So whenever Madam summoned her, she never dared refuse.
But Shen Jin was different. She was a modern woman, not bound by ancient hierarchies. And she knew the story: this Madam Zhou was no gentle soul. A merchant’s daughter who married Shen Chongyuan as his second wife, she wore a mask of kindness but secretly schemed against Shen Jinshu.
The girl’s spoiled, reckless nature was half her own temperament, half Madam Zhou’s deliberate “killing with kindness.” Madam Zhou never scolded or struck her—she indulged her every whim, gave her whatever she wanted, let her do whatever she pleased. Slowly, she molded her into a pampered nuisance everyone despised. That was “smothering with love.”
Shen Jin sneered inwardly. That trick might work on a teenager, but not on a twenty‑five‑year‑old office worker.
“Chun Tao,” she said, opening her eyes, “tell Madam I caught a chill last night, my head aches, and I can’t rise. Once I’m better, I’ll pay my respects.”
Chun Tao hesitated. “But…”
“Just say what I told you.”
“…Yes.” She left.
Shen Jin lay staring at the embroidered mandarin ducks on the canopy.
She had a lot to think about:
1. How to survive in this book’s world.
2. How to avoid the tragic fate of the original Shen Jinshu.
3. How to earn money.
4. How to—
Her stomach growled. Grumble— She rubbed it. Priority four: food.
When Chun Tao returned from the main courtyard, her face was troubled.
“What happened?” Shen Jin asked.
“Madam… Madam said, since Miss is unwell, you should rest. She insists on sending Doctor Li to examine you.”
Shen Jin raised a brow. “And you refused?”
“I said you only needed rest, but Madam insisted. She said Miss’s noble body mustn’t be neglected. And she also said…” Chun Tao’s voice dropped: “She said, since Miss spent the night outside, what if you caught something… unclean? Better to treat it early.”
Shen Jin’s eyes narrowed. “Unclean illness?”
The words sounded polite, but the implication was vicious: she was accusing Shen Jin of debauchery, of contracting venereal disease. This stepmother was venomous.
“Fine,” Shen Jin smiled. “Let her send him.”
“Miss!”
“What’s there to fear? If I’m healthy, the doctor will say so. Whose face will that slap?”
Chun Tao blinked, then realized. “Miss is right!”
Shen Jin sighed inwardly. The original girl was too impulsive—always exploding at Madam Zhou’s provocations, then doing something foolish, handing her enemies ammunition. She wouldn’t make that mistake. This was what she called “adult intelligence.”
Doctor Li arrived quickly. A man in his fifties, with a graying beard and a medicine box, looks professional enough. He checked Shen Jin’s pulse, examined her tongue, asked a few questions, and finally concluded: “Miss is in good health, only fatigued. Rest a few days and you’ll recover.”
Chun Tao exhaled in relief.
Shen Jin turned to Madam Zhou’s maid, Bi Tao, with a smile. “You heard him. Doctor Li says I’m perfectly healthy—no unclean illness.”
Bi Tao’s face turned awkward. She bowed and said, “This servant will go report to Madam at once.”
After Bi Tao left, Shen Jin stopped Doctor Li. “Doctor Li, I have another question.”
“Please speak, Miss.”
Shen Jin hesitated, lowering her voice. “Is there a medicine… that prevents pregnancy?”
Doctor Li froze. “M-Miss, why would you ask such a thing?”
“Just curious.” Shen Jin’s expression didn’t change. “I’ve been reading medical texts lately, and I’m interested in this subject.”
Doctor Li wiped the sweat from his forehead. “Such medicines do exist, but… Miss, you haven’t married yet. It’s not appropriate to ask.”
“Just tell me if they exist.”
“They do,” he admitted quietly. “But they must be taken within three days afterward—the sooner, the better.”
Shen Jin’s heart skipped. Within three days? Today was the first day. Did she need it? She and Xiao Heng had only been together once last night. Surely… it wouldn’t happen? No—she remembered how novels always went. One time was enough. Always successful. And she was inside a novel now. Anything melodramatic could happen. What if?
“Doctor Li,” Shen Jin drew a deep breath, “please prescribe it for me.”
Doctor Li’s face changed. “Miss, this—”
“Say it was my request. If anything happens, I’ll bear it.”
“But…”
“Doctor Li,” Shen Jin looked at him earnestly, “take it as an act of kindness. Whether I can live a decent life depends on this medicine.”
He stared at her for a long time, then sighed. Finally, he pulled out paper and brush and wrote a prescription. “This medicine is harsh, it harms the body. Unless absolutely necessary…”
“I understand.” Shen Jin took the prescription. “Thank you.”
After he left, Shen Jin handed the slip to Chun Tao. “Go get the medicine. Don’t let anyone know.”
Though confused, Chun Tao obeyed.
Shen Jin lay back, hand on her belly, silently praying. Please, don’t let it happen. Please. Her greatest wish now was to live quietly, unnoticed. If she ended up with a child, her life would be anything but peaceful. No—her life had already said goodbye to “peace.” But at least it shouldn’t get worse.
That afternoon, an uninvited guest arrived at her courtyard.
“Elder Sister—” A soft, sweet voice called from outside.
Shen Jin looked up to see a little girl in a pink dress run in. Round face, big eyes, looking obedient and cute.
Memory told her this was Shen Mingzhu, Shen Zhao’s younger sister, born of the late Concubine Zhao, raised under Madam Madam Zhou’s care.
In the novel, Shen Mingzhu was the perfect “white lotus.” Gentle, harmless on the surface, but scheming underneath. She pretended to adore Shen Jinshu, yet often whispered poison to Madam Zhou and Shen Chongyuan.
“Mingzhu greets Elder Sister.” She bowed sweetly. “I heard Sister was unwell, so I came to visit.”
Shen Jin leaned against the bed, studying her. Good acting. In modern times, this girl could win an Oscar.
“I’m fine,” Shen Jin said. “Why are you here?”
“Mingzhu worried for Sister.” She stepped closer, face full of concern. “Where did Sister go last night? Mingzhu worried all night and couldn’t sleep.”
Shen Jin sneered inwardly. All night? With skin that smooth and no dark circles? Who are you fooling?
“At a friend’s house,” Shen Jin replied.
“Friend?” Shen Mingzhu blinked. “But I know all Sister’s friends. Which one was it?”
Shen Jin looked at her—and suddenly smiled. “Mingzhu, are you so concerned about Sister’s whereabouts because you want to tattle to Father?”
Shen Mingzhu’s face stiffened for a moment, then quickly returned to normal. “Sister, how could you say that? Mingzhu would never. I only worry for you.”
“No need to worry.” Shen Jin patted her hand. “I’m better than ever.”
Shen Mingzhu’s eyes flickered with doubt. The old Shen Jinshu hated her “concern,” always drove her away impatiently, and sometimes even cursed her. But today, Shen Jinshu didn’t scold. She even patted her hand and smiled. Not the cold, superior smile of before, but one that seemed to see through everything—and not care.
As if whatever Shen Mingzhu thought, Shen Jinshu already knew, but couldn’t be bothered to expose it.
Shen Mingzhu suddenly felt a chill down her spine. “Well… Sister should rest. I won’t disturb you.”
“Take care.” Shen Jin waved with a smile.
At the gate, Shen Mingzhu glanced back. The doors of Jinse Pavilion were shut tight, like a fortress keeping out all ill intent. She bit her lip and hurried away.
When Chun Tao returned with the medicine, she saw Shen Mingzhu’s retreating figure and paled. “Miss, Second Miss was here?”
“Mm.”
“She didn’t say anything, did she?”
“Nothing.” Shen Jin opened the medicine packet. “She just came to check if I was really sick, so she could report back.”
“Report?” Chun Tao’s face went white. “Then… what do we do?”
“Nothing.” Shen Jin tucked the packet away. “Let her report. I’m not sick anyway. Just be careful when you brew this—don’t let anyone notice.”
“I understand.” Chun Tao went to prepare the decoction.
Shen Jin leaned back, thinking seriously. How was she going to survive here? The original Shen Jinshu’s tragedy had already played out once. She couldn’t repeat it.
But now— She couldn’t provoke the Crown Prince. She shouldn’t get involved with Xiao Heng. In the General’s household, her stepmother and half-siblings were watching, waiting for her to stumble.
She was walking a tightrope. One misstep, and she’d fall. No—worse than a tightrope. At least on a rope you knew you’d die from the fall. Here, she didn’t even know how she’d die.
No, she did know—suicide. As long as she didn’t cause trouble or kill herself, she wouldn’t die.
That was the secret: Stay quiet. Stay low. Play dead. Lie down whenever possible. Keep silent whenever possible. Stick to this principle for a hundred years.
Shen Jin nodded to herself. “You can do this.” Then she rolled over and went back to sleep.
Meanwhile, in the study of the Marquis Dingyuan household, Xiao Heng was reading a secret report. It had just come from the General’s manor.
Only one line: “Miss Shen summoned a doctor, privately asked for a contraceptive prescription, and has already sent someone to fetch the medicine.”
Xiao Heng stared at the words for a long time. Then he picked up a brush and wrote two characters on the back: “Stop her.”