Xining Year 5, Qiantang, Jingci Temple.
The faint echoes of the temple bell gradually faded in the drizzling snow, and in a humble monk’s quarters behind the temple, an emaciated young man was coughing while leaning against the bed, his voice rasping like a broken bellows, unbearable to hear.
Yuan Niang jolted awake from her stupor!
Rubbing her drowsy eyes, she found her surroundings completely unfamiliar. Just moments ago, she had been working on a new video proposal in her home study—how could everything change after just a doze? Was she dreaming?
Unable to believe it, she pinched her arm hard. Ouch, it hurt! So… this was all real?! She… had traveled through time?!
Yuan Niang stared blankly at her surroundings: a ramshackle hut barely shielding them from the wind and rain, a severely ill man before her whose relationship to her original self was unclear, and most crucially, when she looked at her own grimy little hands—she was clearly just a child! Her clothing, a tattered jia’ao that provided little warmth, had a rather antique style.
Wait! She looked up at the man before her—he was wearing a blue scholar’s robe! It looked like a Song Dynasty lanshan! No… no way, had she ended up in the Northern or Southern Song Dynasty? In that case, with her current circumstances, what chance did she have to survive?!
Perhaps her gaze was too frightened, for the sick man, after enduring a violent coughing fit and catching his breath, slowly spoke in a low, hoarse voice: “Don’t be afraid, my child…”
Though frail and weak, his slightly moist eyes held an indescribable tenderness and affection. Perhaps moved by this warmth, Yuan Niang slowly rose and approached, patting his back with her small hand as she tentatively called out, “Father?”
The man smiled at her, continuously reassuring, “Don’t be afraid… don’t be afraid… When I’m no longer by your side, you must eat well, sleep well, grow up safe and healthy, and become… become a happy young lady. Only then… only then can I rest at ease.”
Yuan Niang had no memories of her original self and saw no third person besides the two of them. Once this man who called himself her father passed away, she would immediately become an orphan. In this wretched feudal society, how could a lone girl possibly survive?
What had she done to offend the heavens?
Overwhelmed with sorrow, Yuan Niang blurted out, “No! Father will get better! You will!”
The man seemed to sense her worries and comforted her, “I’ve already arranged a place for you. My dear friend is an official in Hangzhou City and will take care of you.”
His eyes were filled with deep affection and reluctance, tinged with slight bitterness and longing. He placed his large hand over her small one, wishing he could spend more time with his daughter. After all, this child was only six years old—an age when she should be coddled in her parents’ embrace—yet she was about to be left all alone.
The bitter wind howled, and the thin quilt could not ward off the bone-chilling cold. The man clung desperately to his last breath, his vision gradually blurring until even the cheap candle in the room melted into a hazy yellow glow. Yuan Niang huddled tightly beside him, shivering from the cold…
The dregs in the medicine jar still emitted a strong herbal scent, suggesting it had been consumed not long ago but to little effect. The man was terminally ill, frequently seized by violent coughing fits. With each cough, his face grew paler.
Just then, an infuriating screen popped up in her mind, displaying these utterly punch-worthy words: Your good days are over! The date showed: the fifth year of Xining.
Yuan Niang fumed! As if she needed to be told! Couldn’t she see that for herself?! Taking pleasure in her misfortune, were they?! She angrily reached out a paw to swipe at the screen!
At that very moment, a soft sound came from the door as someone entered, bringing in the wind and snow. He was tall and slender, his demeanor reminiscent of plum blossoms and crane-like elegance, with a clear spirit and radiant energy. The moment he took off his bamboo hat, Yuan Niang heard her father say weakly, “Brother Zizhan, you’ve come?”
Yuan Niang abruptly looked up. In the fifth year of Xining, within Hangzhou City, the only “Zizhan” she had ever heard of was that one… It couldn’t be, could it?!
The man placed his bamboo hat in a corner by the wall and suddenly turned around. His face was as fair as jade, his brows and eyes exquisitely handsome, with the serene beauty of clouds parting to reveal the moon. His brows tightly furrowed, he hurried forward and said, “How did you end up in such a state in just a few days?”
The man shook his head and sighed, “Illness strikes like a torrent, heaven grants no reprieve. What can one do, what can one do?!” After catching his breath, he continued, “Now that Brother Zizhan is here, I can rest assured. I’ve never been burdened by fame or fortune in my life, living freely and without restraint. The only regret is leaving behind a daughter I cannot put my mind at ease about. Now, I can only entrust her to you, Brother Zizhan, to care for her until she marries. For this great kindness, I will repay you in the next life, even if it means holding grass in my mouth and forming a ring.”
“Between you and me, is there any need for such words?” Zizhan shook his head, his face filled with sorrow as he replied.
“I have one more presumptuous request, and I hope Brother Zizhan will agree,” the man said, now breathing more weakly than strongly. “My daughter will be alone and helpless from now on, and even if she marries, I fear she may be bullied. Brother Su, could you allow her to become your disciple? That way, she will have someone to rely on in the future.”
Su Zizhan’s gaze suddenly shifted over, and Yuan Niang also stared blankly at him. Suddenly, a “ding” sounded in her mind, and a line of text lit up on the screen: Congratulations, host, for binding the “Feng Wu Ren Jian” system. Then the screen went dark and shut down.
Yuan Niang gasped. “Feng Wu Ren Jian” was exactly the theme of her project! She had originally been a food blogger, creating content based on historical eras, and had just reached the Northern Song Dynasty. Unfortunately, she was a Song Dynasty critic, and her creative process had hit a bottleneck. The content she produced was unpopular with her fans, causing quite a stir online. Some Song Dynasty enthusiasts, hearing about it, passionately chimed in: “The blogger is being unfair! This content would be better off not released! If technology allowed, I’d really like to send you to the Northern Song Dynasty so you can experience firsthand what it means to be elegant in the Great Song! What a city of dreams! What poetic and wine-fueled romance!”
Hey now! To transmigrate just like that—how reckless! That screen that only adds to the frustration is way too reckless! To transmigrate just as her single father in this life is about to die of illness—way too reckless! For her father to ask her to become Su Zizhan’s disciple on his deathbed—way too reckless!
While she was still lost in thought, someone suddenly patted her head. Her father reminded her, “What are you standing there dumbfounded for? Brother Zizhan has already agreed. Hurry up and kneel to pay respects to your master!”
Yuan Niang, still in a daze, plopped down neatly onto her knees: “Master above, please accept this disciple’s bow.”
“It should be three bows,” the man said, patting her round head.
Yuan Niang obediently added two more bows!
“She’s a bit simple-minded, but very endearing. I will surely treat her as my own,” Su Zizhan promised. “You can rest assured.”
The man seemed satisfied upon hearing this, then pulled out a box from under the bed: “Here are twenty gold coins for her future dowry. That marriage arrangement was settled by her mother while she was still alive. I won’t live to see it, so I must trouble Brother Zizhan to evaluate the match. She’s my only daughter, whom I’ve always cherished like a precious jewel. I can’t bear to see her suffer even the slightest grievance. If the prospective husband is suitable, let the marriage proceed; if not, there’s no harm in dissolving the engagement. I only regret having to trouble you again, Brother Zizhan.”
Su Zizhan shook his head. “It’s no trouble.”
“As one who has long practiced spiritual cultivation, I care not for worldly rituals.” Perhaps remembering that the Su family was one of scholars and etiquette, he added, “Let Yuan Niang observe Zi Cui Bu Zhang Qi mourning rites for me. Have the temple monks cremate my remains and place them in the pagoda. There’s no need for lamentations or a separate gravestone.” The man spoke with fading breath.
“How will I remember you?” Yuan Niang suddenly asked.
“Child, our bond in this life has reached its end. Now that you’ll be under Brother Zizhan’s care, I can rest easy. Don’t cling to memories.” With these words, the man tilted his head back and passed away.
Knowing him well, Su Zizhan said in a low, pained voice: “We shall follow your father’s wishes.”
Suddenly overwhelmed by grief, Yuan Niang burst into loud sobs!
When I left here, willows shed tear.
I come back now, snow bends the bough.
Hangzhou City had been shrouded in days of continuous rain. The gloomy weather made her father’s funeral arrangements rather disjointed, but fortunately Su Zizhan coordinated everything with the temple monks, making the process relatively smooth.
Once the funeral concluded, Su Zizhan carried her away from the Monk’s Quarters toward the Su Mansion.
Yuan Niang’s small frame rested against Su Zizhan’s shoulder, his scholar’s scent of pine and sandalwood lingering around her – particularly fragrant.
Only now was she beginning to accept the reality of having time-traveled to the Northern Song Dynasty, her emotions in complete turmoil.
The bad news: freshly transported through time, her biological father had died, leaving her an orphan. In this Song Dynasty where even a passing grasshopper would be stripped of its wings, this was nothing short of catastrophic!
The good news: in this era, only scholar-officials lived well, and she happened to be adopted by one.
The neutral news: her adoptive father was none other than the legendary genius Su Shi, Su Zizhan!!!
Ahhh! No wonder that screen said her good days were over!! Though it might not necessarily have been sarcastic!
Wasn’t there a popular modern meme? Su Shi was either being demoted or on his way to being demoted. Currently, he had just taken office as Vice Prefect of Hangzhou, but later he would be exiled to Huangzhou and even banished to Lingnan!!
Thinking this, her mind cleared somewhat, and tears began flowing uncontrollably.
Su Shi felt his lapel grow damp and sticky from her tears. Assuming she was still grieving her father’s passing, he gently patted her small back and comforted her: “Your father has completed his spiritual cultivation and reached the Pure Land. Please moderate your grief.”
Yuan Niang took a deep breath and nodded. The Time-Travel Deity really knew how to match people! To directly place her with the Northern Song’s top celebrity – how could anyone discuss poetry and romance without mentioning Su Zizhan!
This was Su Shi!! Her future destiny would now be tied to his! But regardless, survival came first.
Moreover, what was the origin of that defunct screen in her head? Could it possibly grant her some kind of golden finger ability? Even if it didn’t, she hoped it wouldn’t come with any debuffs. If only she had known… if only she hadn’t made those reckless comments. She should have kept her disdain for the Song Dynasty to herself instead of voicing it to others. Once her self-made short video “Feng Wu Ren Jian · Northern Song Edition” was released, online sentiment erupted into an uproar, stirring up a storm of controversy in no time.
Now that she had just transmigrated to the Northern Song Dynasty, she… felt somewhat guilty.
Pressing her small face against Su Shi’s broad shoulder, she carefully sorted through her emotions. Her current body was only six years old, with limited energy. After several days of exertion, she was utterly exhausted and began to feel drowsy.