Lin Chunian’s last conscious memory was of the windshield cracking like a spiderweb and her own blood splattering everywhere.
Nineteen years of her life flashed before her eyes like a revolving lantern—the photo taken without her knowledge during freshman military training and posted on the campus forum, where thousands of comments hailed her as “the once-in-a-decade beauty of the Finance Department”; the prolonged applause from the audience when she won first place in a dance competition; and, half an hour before the car accident, the notification she had just received about being awarded the university’s outstanding scholarship.
Then everything faded into darkness, accompanied by a bizarre sense of weightlessness, as if she were being torn apart and pulled away.
When she woke again, she was lying on a hard bed. A girl dressed in coarse cloth, her hair tied in double buns, looked at her with red-rimmed eyes. “You’re finally awake! That human trafficker was truly vicious. It took half a month for the injuries on your body to heal.”
It took Lin Chunian three days to accept reality: she hadn’t died, but what happened was even more absurd than death. She had transmigrated, ending up in the body of a fifteen-year-old orphan girl in the Song Dynasty. Before she could even make sense of her situation, she was resold by a human trafficker to a “young lady” to serve as a maid.
The buyer’s surname was Xiao, and her given name was Wanyan. She was the illegitimate second daughter of the Duke of Yongning’s household. At the age of eight, she had been sent to this countryside village, three hundred li from Bianjing, to “recuperate from illness”—a recuperation that had lasted ten years.
“From today onward, your name is Qinghe,” Xiao Wanyan said, sitting on a chair in the main hall with her legs crossed, her nails painted unevenly with rouge. Her appearance was rather plain—a round face with narrow eyes—yet she insisted on imitating the fashionable makeup styles of Bianjing, painting her face deathly pale and brushing her cheeks with bright red rouge.
She looked up and down at Lin Chunian, who was kneeling on the floor, a flicker of satisfaction flashing in her eyes. “You do have a pretty face. Keep it. It might be useful in the future.”
At that moment, Lin Chunian suddenly understood: in this strictly hierarchical ancient world, human life was as cheap as dirt. People could be bought and sold at will, treated as gifts to be passed around.
Others who transmigrated became royalty, nobility, or legitimate daughters of high-ranking families, living in luxury with servants at their beck and call. But she? She had transmigrated into a lowly servant whose indenture was held in someone else’s hands, serving an illegitimate daughter of a duke’s household whose mother had died early and who had been sent away to the countryside at the age of eight. Without proper upbringing, she had developed a spoiled and vulgar temperament and was stingy to the core. The monthly wages for Qinghe and Dongling were mostly withheld by Granny Liu, who managed the courtyard, leaving them without even a fraction of the amount needed to buy back their freedom.
Three years passed like this. It wasn’t that she hadn’t thought of escaping, but her so-called “household registration” was in the young lady’s hands. Without money or identity, escaping would only make her an undocumented outcast struggling to survive. Although Xiao Wanyan had a terrible temper, she kept Lin Chunian close for personal service, never making her do rough work, because she saw her pretty face as something that could be exchanged for “benefits” in the future. Dongling, a born-slave maid in the Xiao household who had lost her parents early, treated her exceptionally well. At night, when the two slept together, Lin Chunian often told her stories from the modern world. Although Dongling didn’t understand them fully and thought she was just a dreamer with a vivid imagination, she listened attentively. The two even made a pact: once they saved enough money to buy back their indentures, they would leave together, open a shop, support each other, and live a life of “female self-reliance.”
She thought life would continue peacefully like this—until that afternoon.
The sound of urgent hoofbeats grew closer and closer, shattering the usual tranquility of the small courtyard. Granny Liu stumbled and scrambled into Xiao Wanyan’s room, her voice shrill and distorted. “Second Young Lady! Second Young Lady! Someone from Bianjing is here! The Xiao heir himself has come to take you back to the mansion!”
Xiao Wanyan was trying on a newly purchased butterfly hairpin in front of the mirror when her hand trembled at the words, and the hairpin fell to the ground.
“Who… who is here?”
“It’s the heir! The heir from the main branch, Xiao Jueyan!” Granny Liu’s face was flushed with excitement, her smile stretching from ear to ear.
Xiao Wanyan’s eyes lit up with delight, and she shrieked, “Quick! Bring out my cloud-patterned silk dress! And the pearl headpiece I bought last time! Qinghe! Dongling! Where have you two gone? Come and help me get ready!”
The courtyard instantly descended into chaos.
Lin Chunian was being ordered around in a flurry, but her heart brightened: Bianjing… the prosperous capital city that had only ever appeared in history books and dreams. To leave this place and see the true splendor of the Song Dynasty, even if only as a maidservant, would make this journey through time worthwhile.
At that moment, a group of riders had already arrived at the courtyard gate. The old servant at the entrance had hastily opened the door, not daring to breathe too loudly.
Granny Liu’s face instantly blossomed into a smile as she rushed forward, waving her handkerchief. “The heir has arrived! This old servant welcomes the heir! Welcomes all the esteemed guests!”
At the courtyard gate, over a dozen fine horses stood on the bluestone path. The guards on horseback wore tight-fitting uniforms, held weapons, stood tall and straight, their expressions solemn, completely blocking the narrow country lane. At the head of the group, seated on a black horse, was a man.
He wore a dark brocade robe, a jade belt cinched at his waist, his posture upright, with broad shoulders and a narrow waist. His jet-black hair was tied high, secured with a jade crown, a few stray strands falling by his temples, yet not softening his appearance in the slightest. His features were exceptionally fine—his eyes round and full, the corners slightly upturned, naturally peach-blossom shaped, yet their depths were piercingly cold. An aura of aloofness surrounded him, and even seated on horseback, he exuded the commanding presence of a military leader.
Behind him followed two attendants in dark green robes, their movements agile, clearly trained in martial arts. Their eyes held vigilance, yet they showed utmost respect to the man before them.
“That is the eldest son of the Duke of Yongning’s household, Xiao Jueyan,” Dongling whispered, standing beside Lin Chunian.
Lin Chunian looked up. Indeed, he was quite striking.
He reined in his horse, his gaze sweeping over the dilapidated courtyard before finally settling on Lin Chunian.
She stood in the middle of the courtyard, wearing a faded coarse cloth dress, her hair simply tied up with only a smooth wooden hairpin. Her face was free of makeup, her features delicate yet naturally captivating, her skin as fair as snow. Even with traces of well water still damp on her fingertips and a crude laundry basin beside her, she could not conceal her innate, breathtaking beauty, brightening the shabby courtyard around her.
His brow lifted slightly, a flicker of surprise flashing in his eyes.
Ten years ago, when his father had sent this half-sister to the countryside, she had been nothing more than an ordinary-looking, timid little girl. How had she grown into such a vision over the past decade?
“You are Wanyan?”
Xiao Jueyan spoke, his voice tinged with surprise, his gaze still fixed on Lin Chunian, not shifting away.
The two attendants behind him exchanged glances, both seeing astonishment in each other’s eyes. Chen Jing on the left leaned toward Liu Zhou on the right and whispered, “This half-sister is such a stunning beauty. How is she anything like the rumors that described her as plain and ordinary?”
Liu Zhou also lowered his voice, “Perhaps the countryside nurtured her, allowing her to blossom fully. Such looks would be rare even among the noble households of the Eastern Capital.”
Though their whispers were soft, they still drifted into Lin Chunian’s ears. She was taken aback for a moment before realizing—they had mistaken her for someone else.
Just as Lin Chunian was about to speak up to clarify, Granny Liu suddenly knelt on the ground with a thud, kowtowing repeatedly. “This is just a maid, Young Duke, please forgive us! Miss Wanyan is right here!” As she spoke, she pointed inside the room.
Xiao Wanyan came running out of the room. Seeing the group of people at the door, she immediately approached, reaching out to grab Xiao Jueyan’s sleeve, her face beaming with a smile. “Brother! It’s me, Wanyan! You actually came to pick me up in person!”
Xiao Jueyan sidestepped to avoid her, his tone icy. “Mind your manners.”
Xiao Wanyan’s hand froze mid-air before she reluctantly withdrew it, pouting as she muttered, “Brother is still so cold…”
“We depart in half an hour.” Xiao Jueyan glanced at her, frowning at her “deliberately” adorned appearance, his tone impatient. “The road to the Eastern Capital is unsafe. If we delay, we might encounter bandits.”