“You look a lot like my mother, and your name is the same as hers.”
“If you were her, would you pull me out of the abyss?”
Echoing in her ears was the girl’s cold and helpless voice. Shen Jiaojiao jolted awake from the nightmare, drenched in sweat. Her clothes clung to her body, sticky and uncomfortable.
She looked around the room: dusty cement floors, an old sewing machine in the corner, a dark red camphorwood chest, and the hard wooden bed beneath her.
It was unmistakably the style of the 1980s or 90s. She had truly traveled back in time.
Just an hour ago.
Shen Jiaojiao let out a long sigh. She had thought it was just a nightmare, so she went back to sleep, hoping to wake up in her newly decorated, light-luxury, petit-bourgeois-style room.
Then she dreamed of Xiao Yueyue, whom she had interviewed before the time travel.
Xiao Yueyue was also the perpetrator of the serial murder case that had shocked the entire city of Shanghai—a beautiful girl just 19 years old.
There were five known victims, and the unknown ones might never be discovered.
Because after her conversation with Xiao Yueyue, she received a call from the police.
Xiao Yueyue had sharpened the handle of a toothbrush and taken her own life.
She left no suicide note.
In the days that followed, Shen Jiaojiao remained in a daze, her mind constantly drifting back to Xiao Yueyue.
The girl’s childhood and adolescence were like a seed trapped in a black hole—never seeing a ray of sunlight, never tasting a drop of sweet spring water. Surrounding her were only venomous snakes, rats, ants, jackals, wolves, tigers, leopards, and foul, filthy water.
Yet Xiao Yueyue stubbornly grew. Finally, one day, she broke through the cage, but the seedling had already become deformed. She began to take revenge on the world.
Although those who died were not innocent—child molesters, bullies, rumor-mongers, child abusers, domestic abusers… not a single one was a good person—they should have faced legal punishment.
Not at the cost of Xiao Yueyue’s entire life to punish these evil people.
Unable to focus on work, Shen Jiaojiao decided to rest at home for a few days. And then she traveled through time.
She picked up an old newspaper by the bed, greasy and still carrying the lingering scent of meat buns. The date on it was July 5, 1980—an evening edition.
Hong Kong had already returned.
Great!
It was now afternoon, meaning today was at least the 7th.
Shen Jiaojiao had already absorbed the memories of this body. She let out a bitter laugh. She had truly become Xiao Yueyue’s despicable birth mother, who loved meat buns. They shared the same name and looked very similar. The current Xiao Yueyue was eight years old, trapped in the abyss.
This small county was called Yangcheng, not far from Hangzhou and Shanghai. According to Xiao Yueyue’s account, something major would happen this year. The original body’s disgusting husband, Xi Zihua, had accumulated a mountain of gambling debts. When debt collectors came knocking, he actually forced the original body to sell herself to repay the debts.
To earn more money, Xi Zihua even took the mother and daughter to Shanghai. He was in charge of soliciting customers, while the original body completely fell into prostitution. Later, even her daughter, Xiao Yueyue, was not spared.
When Xiao Yueyue was fourteen, the original body died of illness. She escaped from Xi Zihua’s clutches and began her path of revenge.
Shen Jiaojiao looked down on the original body. As a mother, she couldn’t even protect her own daughter. She deserved to die. She only pitied Xiao Yueyue—so smart, so beautiful, who could have had a bright and brilliant life but was destroyed by these scum and demons.
She walked to the mirror on the wardrobe. Indeed, she looked very similar—almond-shaped eyes, peach-blossom cheeks, more delicate than a flower. But the original body was a helpless little white flower. She was not.Growing up in an orphanage, she had done it all to earn tuition and living expenses—handing out flyers on the streets, setting up stalls on overpasses, selling drinks in bars, and even gutting fish at RT-Mart. She had dealt with all kinds of people.
Skilled in both intellect and strength, she could reason eloquently in debates and handle troublemakers with her fists.
“Yueyue looks so pretty today! Come give Uncle a hug!”
A man’s greasy, disgusting voice rang from outside, followed by another man’s laughter. It was her husband, Xi Zihua, who had married her and her mother to cover up his relationship with Wang Jianjun.
The disgusting man speaking outside was Wang Jianjun, Xi Zihua’s lover. He often came to their home to fool around, despite having a wife and children and working as a middle school teacher.
“Xiao Yueyue, where are your manners? What’s wrong with letting Uncle Wang hug you?” Xi Zihua scolded angrily.
“Don’t be so hard on the child. Yueyue, here’s fifty cents to buy a popsicle!”
Wang Jianjun spoke with feigned kindness, waving a fifty-cent coin temptingly at the little girl. His refined, fair face wore a lecherous smile, and behind his glasses, his eyes gleamed with wickedness.
The frail little girl stepped back, her large eyes filled with fear. She didn’t like this Uncle Wang. Every time he came, he would hug her, grope her, and say things she didn’t understand but found deeply unsettling. Yet, if she disobeyed, her father would beat her, and her mother would scold her for being disobedient.
They said Uncle Wang hugged her because he liked her. She was just a child—how could she understand such things? But she truly hated it. She didn’t want the popsicle; she wanted to escape this house.
Wang Jianjun’s smile faded into a forced grin. “Your Yueyue seems to have quite the temper lately!”
Xi Zihua’s face darkened as he warned, “Xiao Yueyue!”
The little girl trembled, her fear intensifying. She knew this was the final warning. If she didn’t go over now, her father would beat her mercilessly—it hurt so much.
She glanced hopefully at the tightly shut bedroom door. Could her mother hear from inside?
Would her mother come out to save her?
The door remained closed, without a sound. The little girl’s eyes grew dimmer, and a bitter smile, too mature for her age, appeared on her tender face. How could her mother save her?
She never had before, and she never would.
“Xiao Yueyue, I’ll count to three. One, two…” Xi Zihua’s tone was icy as he raised his hand. This brat deserved a beating for daring to embarrass him in front of Jianjun. He’d break her legs later!
The little girl shivered. Clenching her fists, her small body stiffened as she slowly… slowly walked toward Wang Jianjun.
Don’t be afraid, it’ll be over soon. As long as she obeyed, her father wouldn’t beat her, her mother wouldn’t scold her, and she could have a full meal tonight.
Xiao Yueyue tried to comfort herself, but the sight of Wang Jianjun’s disgusting face only made her more afraid. Her large eyes welled with tears, yet she stubbornly kept her mouth shut, not making a sound.
Because she knew no one would help her. Crying out would be pointless.
Wang Jianjun smiled triumphantly, like a jackal waiting for a little rabbit to walk right into his trap. He adored Xiao Yueyue—so obedient and easy to bully.
As Xiao Yueyue drew closer, Wang Jianjun reached out to grab her. Instinctively, she sidestepped.
“Looking for a beating?”
Xi Zihua slapped her hard. How dare she embarrass him again and again? This brat had a death wish!Xiao Yueyue skillfully covered her head, crouched down, closed her eyes, and braced for the beating.
“Bang!”
Shen Jiaojiao, her lungs about to explode with rage, flung the door open with a forceful swing.
In her past life, when she heard Xiao Yueyue recount her childhood experiences, she had been furious enough to kill. Now, witnessing it firsthand, she only wanted to flush these two scumbags down the toilet!
Damn it!
Scumbags!
Perverts!
Demons!
They deserve death!