Spring, 21st Year of the Jingde Era, Great Sheng Dynasty
The wind in the early hours still carried the chill of late spring. Deep inside a cliffside cave on the outskirts of the capital, the only sound was the “drip, drip” of water seeping through cracks in the cave ceiling—like a death knell striking the heart.
Wen Yinyue woke up from the biting cold.
She shot her eyes open. Before her was a blurry, bluish-black rock wall. Her nose was filled with the stench of decaying earth and moss. Her whole body ached as if her bones had been torn apart—this was not a place she knew.
She remembered that she had been carrying out a mission in the Southeast Asian rainforest. To intercept smuggled ancient martial arts manuals, she had confronted her opponent in an arms depot. The deafening explosion that followed should have blown her to pieces.
“Cough… cough cough…”
She tried to prop herself up, but her fingers touched slippery moss. The cold, wet sensation made her shiver.
Looking down, she finally saw her clothes: a moon-white silk skirt, its collar originally embroidered with subtle begonia patterns, now torn by jagged rocks along the cliff wall. The hem was stained with dark brown blood and dark green mud, as if it had rolled through filth.
The silver-bell belt around her waist was broken in half. Only two broken bells remained trapped in the folds of the skirt, occasionally ringing softly with her movements, sounding oddly out of place.
This was not her combat outfit.
At that moment, a sharp headache suddenly struck, as if countless shards were exploding inside her skull.
Strange memories flooded her consciousness—An Yuan Hou Mansion, the legitimate daughter Wen Yinyue, the crown prince seeking marriage, stepmother Lady Liu, half-sister Wen Wanru…
“Sister, have you drunk this calming soup? You’ve been sleepless lately; it’s not good for your health.” In her memory, Wen Wanru held a steaming cup of medicinal soup, a sweet smile on her face, but her eyes hiding cunning.
At the time, “Wen Yinyue” still had the innocence of a young girl. She received the soup and whispered thanks: “Thank you, little sister. You’ve been thinking of me.” She didn’t see Lady Liu standing behind the screen, signaling Wanru to “don’t worry.”
The soup tasted strangely bitter as it went down. Before she could think further, her body began to burn, and her consciousness blurred.
She heard Lady Liu’s voice in her ear, cold and cruel: “Ungrateful girl! The crown prince favors you, yet you dare refuse him? Today, you will ‘please’ the prince, let’s see how arrogant you are after that!”
“No… I don’t want to!” The original owner’s struggle was vivid in her memory. She stumbled, pushing Wen Wanru aside, knocking over porcelain bottles, ignoring the maid’s restraining hands, and ran frantically out of the mansion.
But the medicine’s effect intensified. She had no strength to run and leaned against an old locust tree in the forest outside the capital to catch her breath.
At that moment, a figure emerged from behind the tree—a man in a dark brocade robe, embroidered with silver cloud patterns, a piece of white jade hanging at his waist engraved with the complex character “Yuan.”
The man exuded a cold aura. He looked slightly weak, as if still recovering from serious injuries. Dust and wind clung to him as if he had just returned from the frontier. His eyes were sharp, piercing as if capable of seeing through people’s hearts.
“Who are you?” His voice was low, cautious.
By then, the original owner’s reason had been clouded by the medicine. She thought the man in front of her was the only “lifeline”—she could not be caught by the crown prince. Even this way, she would destroy her “marriageable” innocence.
“It doesn’t matter who I am…” Her voice trembled, but she still reached for his sleeve, her nails almost embedding into the brocade. “Help me… as long as you help me, I’ll give you anything…”
The man clearly hadn’t expected this, frowning as he tried to push her away, but she clung to him stubbornly.
The memory fragments became chaotic here, leaving only the original owner’s panicked actions afterward—she looked at the man’s sleeping profile, remembered Lady Liu’s threats, and instinctively touched the jade pendant at his waist.
The jade was smooth and valuable. She unthinkingly took it and tucked it into her sleeve: “Since you took my body, this pendant is compensation… From now on, we owe each other nothing.”
She thought she could sell it for silver and escape, but she hadn’t gone far when the servants Lady Liu sent caught up.
The lead servant held a wooden stick, shouting viciously: “Catch her! Madam said, alive or dead, she must be seen!”
The original owner turned and ran in fear, but in her panic, she ran to the cliff edge.
The footsteps behind grew louder. Cornered at the cliff, she looked down at the bottomless mist below and closed her eyes in despair.
The final push came from behind—the stick smashed her back, and she fell like a leaf off the cliff, the servant’s cruel laugh echoing: “Let’s see how you run now!”
“Ah!”
Wen Yinyue jolted awake from the memories, her chest heaving, cold sweat covering her forehead. She touched her back—there was indeed a bruise from where the stick had hit.
She hadn’t died. She had transmigrated.
She had entered the body of the legitimate daughter of the An Yuan Hou Mansion, also named Wen Yinyue, inheriting her memories and… trouble.
At that moment, she felt a faint stirring in her lower abdomen, like a small life moving gently.
She looked down sharply and placed her hand on her abdomen—it was still flat, but the sensation under her fingers was unmistakable: fetal movement!
“Child…” Wen Yinyue’s pupils constricted. Modern memories and the original owner’s emotions intertwined instantly.
She was a rare martial arts genius in the Wen family, taking over the household at sixteen, executing dozens of life-and-death missions, never someone to be crushed by adversity. Yet now, the faint stirrings in her abdomen made her heart wrench.
Was this the original owner’s child? Or… the dark-robed man’s child?
She forced herself to calm down, placing her fingers on her pulse. As the head of a martial family, she was not only skilled in martial arts but had also learned medicine and toxins from the family’s old medical texts.
Her pulse was irregular but faintly alive. Deep within it was a strange toxin—spreading along her blood vessels, nearing her abdomen. If it continued, she wouldn’t survive, and neither would the child.
“Qian Ji Yin…”
Wen Yinyue’s face darkened. This toxin was a rare, deadly poison from the martial world—colorless, tasteless, causing extreme pain and death, and nearly impossible to eliminate once contracted.
Lady Liu and Wen Wanru not only wanted to ruin the original owner’s reputation but also intended to kill her!
“So ruthless…”
Wen Yinyue whispered, a cold killing intent flashing in her eyes.
She was no longer the weak, easily bullied Wen Yinyue. The original owner’s enemies, she would avenge; the suffering Lady Liu and Wen Wanru inflicted, she would return tenfold.
But now was not the time for that. She reached into her sleeve and felt the smooth jade pendant—the same one from her memory, belonging to the dark-robed man.
The jade was exquisite, polished smooth, the character “Yuan” engraved powerfully. Clearly, it did not belong to an ordinary person. She had no time to think about its owner. The immediate priority was survival.
Outside the cave, insects chirped, and the horizon was turning pale. The early hour was nearly over.
Wen Yinyue took a deep breath, enduring the pain, slowly pushing herself up against the cave wall.
Her eyes scanned the cave floor, finally resting on a pile of dry grass—the same she had landed on during her fall. It was dry enough to possibly use for warmth.
“Wen Yinyue,” she whispered to the air, as if promising the original owner and encouraging herself.
“From today, your life is my life. I will avenge your enemies; I will protect your child. Lady Liu, Wen Wanru, and even the crown prince… we’ll take them one by one.”
She carefully sat beside the hay, tucking the jade pendant safely back into her sleeve.
Then, she closed her eyes, beginning to cultivate the Wen family’s heirloom technique, Nine Heavens Mystical Spirit Art. Though weak and almost powerless, as long as the technique ran, it could temporarily suppress the poison, keeping herself and the child alive.
Inner energy flowed slowly through her meridians like a faint warm current, easing some of the intense pain. Wen Yinyue’s lips curled into a determined smile, and her eyes were no longer confused.