The Great Qing Dynasty.
In the thirteenth year of the Chengshun era, within the Pei residence in the capital—the Estate of the Earl of Jingchuan—
In one of the inner chambers, a rosewood baby cradle stood quietly. Passed down through generations, its surface had long been polished smooth with age, giving it a simple yet dignified weight. Lying inside, waving tiny fists in the air, was the Earl’s legitimate eldest grandson—Pei Shaohuai.
The infant was fair and delicate, not yet seven months old. He couldn’t sit up on his own, yet he was far from still. One moment he kicked off the silk quilt covering him, the next he waved his little hands, trying to grab the tiger-head sachet and colorful embroidered ball hanging above. Then he’d burst into soft, bubbling laughter.
Even at such a young age, his features were striking—well-formed brows, bright eyes—altogether an adorable child that people couldn’t help but dote on.
His birth mother, Lady Lin, wore a soft pink silk robe with simple embroidered patterns along the collar and sleeves. Her hair was styled in an elegant cloud-like bun, giving her a gentle and refined appearance.
While the child entertained himself, she took the chance to bring out her sewing basket and continue the unfinished work from yesterday. From time to time, she gently rocked the cradle and teased the baby with a smile.
…
What no one knew was that beneath the baby’s innocent exterior lay the mind of an adult.
He had once been Li Nian, a man from a later age. At the end of his life, he had somehow transmigrated into a novel—becoming Pei Shaohuai of the Earl’s household.
In his previous life, Li Nian was born into a scholarly and loving family. But at the age of three, he was diagnosed with a rare, incurable illness. His time was limited.
Though heartbroken, his parents never gave up on him. They spent everything they had to raise him well, taking him to see the world so he could live without regrets.
His father often told him, “There is so much knowledge in this world. The more you learn, the more you gain.” He encouraged Li Nian to live like anyone else—study, grow, and take the college entrance exams.
And Li Nian did get into a good university.
But in his second year, his illness returned. His body weakened day by day, until within half a year, he was bedridden, his consciousness fading.
In his final moments, he faintly remembered his mother’s voice—gentle yet trembling with suppressed sorrow:
“Nian’er, our time together has come to an end. Don’t hold on. Let go, and go find your next fate.”
A few minutes later, the heart monitor let out a sharp, continuous beep…
…
The world he had entered now was from a novel he once read, titled “The Rise of the Concubine’s Son.”
It told the story of a declining noble household, where an overlooked illegitimate son rose through sheer effort. Through relentless study and success in the imperial examinations, he climbed step by step to a high position, restoring his family’s honor.
That son—lowly yet resilient in hardship, humble in success, and unwavering in character—was deeply admirable.
Unfortunately, the character Li Nian had become—Pei Shaohuai—was nothing like that.
In the original story, he was a spoiled and reckless dandy, obsessed with pleasure. After squandering the family fortune, he met a miserable end.
The hardworking illegitimate son? That was his younger brother—Pei Shaojin.
As for the rest of the plot, Li Nian only remembered the general outline. The finer details were hazy—perhaps they would return when he encountered the people and events again… or perhaps not.
…
Li Nian had transmigrated into this body from birth. Though now half a year old, his mind had only fully awakened half a month ago.
During those early months, he had been limited by an infant’s body—his vision blurred, his thoughts muddled, most of his time spent sleeping. Occasionally, when he was awake, people would gather around him, calling him affectionately “Huai-ge’er” or “Tuantuan.”
Now that he had grown a little, he had gradually adapted to this tiny body. Only recently had he fully understood his situation.
His previous life had been filled with misfortune—so many things left unexperienced. Perhaps this second chance was the “new fate” his mother had spoken of.
No matter how reluctant he felt, he chose to bid farewell to “Li Nian” and accept his new identity as “Pei Shaohuai.”
If he could find a new beginning, then surely his family in that other world could too… right?
That’s what he told himself.
…
The Pei family had once followed the founding emperor of the Great Qing, earning great military merit and securing a hereditary title. That was how this once-glorious estate came to be.
Pei Shaohuai’s grandfather, the Earl of Jingchuan, Pei Pu, had only one son—Pei Bingyuan, Shaohuai’s father.
Pei Bingyuan’s first wife had been the legitimate daughter of another noble family. Sadly, she was frail and succumbed to illness, leaving behind two young daughters.
With no son to continue the line, Pei Bingyuan later married Lady Lin as his second wife.
Meanwhile, a former maid from the first wife’s dowry—now known as Concubine Shen—became the mother of Pei Shaojin.
By coincidence, both Lady Lin and Concubine Shen first gave birth to daughters, and only later to sons. Pei Shaohuai was born just a few days earlier than Pei Shaojin, making him both the legitimate grandson and the eldest.
After sorting through all these relationships, Pei Shaohuai concluded that his new life wasn’t so bad. The family wasn’t extremely wealthy, but they lacked nothing—and the household dynamics were relatively simple compared to other noble families.
Still, his infant body couldn’t handle too much thinking. After a short while, drowsiness crept in.
Just then, Nurse Shen entered the room with a maid named Qinghe, who carried a bundle of dried bird’s nest. After dismissing the other servants, the old nurse spoke solemnly:
“Now that there are no outsiders, allow this old servant to speak frankly with you, Madam.”
She went on to question Lady Lin about sending the bird’s nest to Concubine Shen’s residence, hinting at hidden dangers and urging caution.
Lady Lin, kind-hearted and trusting, didn’t think much of it. But the nurse pressed on, warning her not to be naive, especially now that she had a son to protect.
Her words grew sharper, even suggesting that if things had been slightly different, the title of eldest grandson might not belong to Pei Shaohuai at all.
…
Listening from the cradle, Pei Shaohuai—though half-asleep—understood enough.
The nurse’s meaning was clear: be wary, be calculating, guard against rivals.
But recalling the original story, Pei Shaohuai knew that Concubine Shen had never schemed against others. On the contrary, it was Lady Lin—misled by servants and driven by maternal instinct—who eventually fell into wrongdoing and met a tragic end.
This nurse, though loyal, was clearly one of those who had led her astray.
Her loyalty was misplaced.
As for the noble title? In Pei Shaohuai’s eyes, it was already hollow. The family had long been in decline. Fighting over it would only hasten their downfall.
Harmony, not conflict, was the true path forward.
…
Having made up his mind, Pei Shaohuai decided to help his mother—by ending this conversation.
Suppressing his sleepiness, he forced his eyes open, spotted where the nurse was standing beside the cradle…
He turned slightly.
Aiming carefully—
Splash.
Mission accomplished.
Then, clutching his silk quilt, he smacked his lips contentedly and drifted off to sleep at last.