“Damn it!”
“Was the stone in this outhouse made of diamonds? I swear my tailbone’s about to crack!”
Shen Qinghuan grumbled as she struggled to her feet from the icy stone floor, the back of her head still throbbing.
Just moments ago, she had been in a mercenary training camp deep in the African desert. After single-handedly taking down three burly men in hand-to-hand combat, she had collapsed into a makeshift latrine to catch her breath.
Then a violent sandstorm struck.
She lost her footing, and the back of her head slammed hard against a stone block beside the toilet.
When she opened her eyes again, the world spun around her.
Above her was no longer the scorching African sky, but a dilapidated thatched roof with gaps that let the wind whistle through. Wisps of dried straw hung from the ceiling, while the air reeked of mildew mixed with medicinal herbs, making her cough uncontrollably.
She looked down.
Instead of her combat gear, she was wearing a faded coarse linen dress. The rough fabric scratched her skin like sandpaper.
She instinctively reached up to touch her face.
It was no longer her own.
A tiny, unfamiliar face fit beneath her palm. Her cheekbones jutted sharply, her lips were dry and cracked, and she was so thin it was obvious she had suffered from long-term malnutrition.
But what truly made her freeze…
…was her stomach.
Her hand slowly rested on her abdomen.
It was unmistakably swollen, the size of someone five or six months pregnant. Even through the thin dress, she could feel the gentle curve of her belly.
Then…
A faint kick.
Warm.
Alive.
“…Seriously?”
“So I transmigrated… and I even came with a baby?”
Shen Qinghuan nearly burst into tears.
Before she could cry out, a torrent of unfamiliar memories violently flooded into her mind. The pain was so intense that she bared her teeth and dropped into a crouch, gasping.
The original owner of this body was also named Shen Qinghuan.
She was the legitimate eldest daughter of Shen Cong’an, the Minister of Personnel in the Great Jin Dynasty.
Years ago, Shen Cong’an had relied heavily on the wealth of his first wife—Shen Qinghuan’s mother—to climb the ranks of officialdom.
But fate was cruel.
Madam Shen died young, leaving behind only her daughter.
Within only a few years of her death, Shen Cong’an brought the mistress he had secretly kept outside the household into the residence as his legal wife.
That woman was Madam Wang.
She also brought with her a daughter, Shen Chuchu, who was only half a year younger than Shen Qinghuan, along with her son, Shen Yuyang.
Madam Wang was ruthless.
Shen Chuchu was even more vicious.
The mother and daughter worked together seamlessly, bullying Shen Qinghuan until she lived a life worse than that of the household servants.
Naturally timid and submissive, the original Shen Qinghuan endured every humiliation without resistance.
Three months earlier, during a banquet held at the Minister’s Residence, Shen Chuchu had invited her to the back hill under the pretense of admiring the flowers.
There, she secretly drugged Shen Qinghuan’s tea.
When Shen Qinghuan regained consciousness, she found herself lying beside a completely unfamiliar man.
His robes were disheveled.
His handsome features were cold and stern.
Hanging from his waist was an exquisite jade pendant engraved with a leaf motif.
Terrified and ashamed, Shen Qinghuan fled back to the residence without even learning who the man was.
Unfortunately…
Shen Chuchu had been waiting for exactly that.
She immediately twisted the story, accusing Shen Qinghuan of shamelessly meeting another man in secret.
Madam Wang eagerly added fuel to the fire, claiming Shen Qinghuan had disgraced the entire Minister’s household.
Enraged, Shen Cong’an refused to hear a single word of explanation.
At the time, Shen Chuchu had already caught the Empress Dowager’s attention and was being considered as a secondary consort for one of the imperial princes.
Fearing that Shen Qinghuan’s scandal would ruin Shen Chuchu’s future, Shen Cong’an heartlessly exiled his own legitimate daughter to the family’s remote estate outside the capital.
To the public, he claimed she had contracted a serious illness and needed to recover in seclusion.
In truth…
He had simply abandoned her there to die.
Every servant at the estate was one of Madam Wang’s loyal followers.
None showed her even the slightest mercy.
Each day, they fed her nothing but spoiled coarse-rice gruel.
The medicine they forced her to drink had been secretly laced with a slow-acting poison.
Already frail to begin with, Shen Qinghuan suffered endless abuse for over half a month.
Then one day she was caught in a cold rain.
Her body finally gave out.
Wracked with unbearable abdominal pain, she died quietly…
Leaving this body to Shen Qinghuan—
A top-tier mercenary and renowned battlefield physician from the twenty-first century.
“What a ridiculous soap opera…”
“The stepmother and her precious daughter join forces to torment the legitimate heiress.”
She let out a cold laugh.
“Too bad for them.”
“I’m the one living in this body now.”
“If they think they can keep bullying me…”
“They’re dreaming.”
“The original owner saw this child as her greatest weakness.”
“But to me…”
“This baby is my bottom line.”
“Anyone who dares touch my child…”
“I’ll grind their bones to dust.”
Just as Shen Qinghuan was planning how to deal with the vicious servants running the estate—
A shrill voice suddenly rang out from outside.
“Shen Qinghuan!”
“So you’re still alive?”
“Then hurry up and drink this medicine.”
“Madam said if you refuse even one sip, you’ll go hungry for three straight days!”
The door creaked open.
An elderly maid with a broad, fleshy face stepped inside, dressed in a plain blue cloth robe. She carried a bowl of pitch-black medicine, her eyes filled with contempt and malice.
She was Old Woman Wang, Madam Wang’s most trusted servant.
Over the past weeks, she had been one of the people who tormented the original Shen Qinghuan the most.
Shen Qinghuan narrowed her eyes.
Her nose twitched slightly.
As a master physician, she recognized the scent instantly.
The medicine contained processed aconite, mixed in dangerous amounts.
Taken repeatedly, it would not only harm the unborn child, but eventually cause violent convulsions before killing the victim.
This was exactly the poison that had caused the original Shen Qinghuan’s relentless abdominal pain…
…and ultimately her death.
Seeing that Shen Qinghuan remained motionless, Old Woman Wang strode over impatiently and reached out to grab her chin.
“You little bitch.”
“Still refusing?”
“Do you really think you’re still the Minister’s precious legitimate daughter?”
“You’re nothing but damaged goods nobody wants.”
“A shameless slut carrying some bastard’s child!”
Shen Qinghuan slowly lifted her head.
Her eyes were as cold as frozen steel.
“I think…”
“…you’re the one who’s tired of living.”
Old Woman Wang froze for a split second under that terrifying gaze.
Then she spat on the floor.
“Pah!”
“You still dare talk back?”
“I’ll slap that mouth of yours to pieces!”
She raised her hand and swung it hard toward Shen Qinghuan’s face.
Unfortunately for her…
Shen Qinghuan was no helpless noblewoman.
She had survived the brutal training grounds of an elite mercenary camp.
Master of close-quarters combat.
A genius battlefield doctor.
An expert in poisons.
The instant the slap came down, she sidestepped with lightning speed.
Her hand shot out like a striking snake, seizing Old Woman Wang’s wrist.
With a precise twist—
Crack!
A sharp snap echoed through the room.
Old Woman Wang’s wrist was instantly dislocated.