Wanchai, Hong Kong, 1987.
It was a spring afternoon, and the streets were filled with a mixture of salty sea air and the lively aromas of everyday life.
The signboard of Chen Kee Congee Shop gleamed under the sunlight. The shop had been open for more than twenty years, dating back to the days when Wanchai was still largely a shantytown.
The owner, Uncle Chen, was a thin man in his fifties. Deep wrinkles lined his face, but he always wore a warm smile.
His specialty was chicken offal congee—finely chopped chicken liver, intestines, and heart simmered with soft, creamy rice porridge. It was a taste that Hong Kong people knew all too well.
“One bowl of chicken offal congee!” the waiter called from the front.
Uncle Chen answered and expertly ladled a bowl of porridge, sprinkling it with chopped scallions and white pepper before carrying it to a table by the window.
The customer was an elderly gentleman dressed in a traditional Chinese tunic. His hair was white, and he was squinting at the television mounted on the wall.
A news broadcast was playing. The female anchor spoke in Cantonese:
“Here is the latest news. Another family scandal has erupted within the Gu family, the owners of Xinda Group.”
“According to reports, Gu Xihe, the eldest daughter of the Gu family, took her own life by overdosing on medication two days ago after objecting to her parents’ interference in her relationship and being forced to become engaged to Li Xuan, the son of the shipping magnate Li family…”
The chatter inside the congee shop quieted somewhat as the diners all turned toward the television.
The screen switched to the entrance of Hong Kong’s Hong Kong Sanatorium & Hospital in Happy Valley. A reporter stood there with a microphone, speaking rapidly.
“According to sources close to the family, Miss Gu attempted to elope with her boyfriend from mainland China after refusing the family-arranged marriage. However, when the attempt failed, she resorted to taking her own life.”
“The mainland man reportedly took medication as well but later regretted it and called for help. Although Miss Gu’s life has been saved, she remains in a deep coma, and her condition is still considered critical.”
The footage changed again, this time showing a candid photograph.
“Yesterday evening, our reporters photographed Gu Bingwen, chairman of Xinda Group, hurriedly leaving the hospital. He appeared cold and refused to answer any questions throughout.”
“According to our sources, Chairman Gu did not return to the Gu family residence in the Mid-Levels afterward. Instead, he went to his second wife’s residence in Hung Hom, reportedly seeking comfort.”
“As everyone knows, besides his eldest daughter, Gu Xihe, Chairman Gu also has a son, who was born to his second wife…”
“Tsk, tsk, tsk.” A middle-aged woman at the neighboring table lowered her voice as she spoke to her companion. “That eldest Gu girl is really foolish. She’d actually die over some poor boy. As if her parents would ever agree to that.”
“Exactly,” her companion agreed. “I heard that mainland fellow works at a jewelry shop. He’s handsome, sure, but what good is that? He has neither money nor connections. How could the Gu family possibly let their eldest daughter marry him?”
“If you ask me, that Chairman Gu isn’t exactly a good father either. His daughter is lying in the hospital, and instead of staying with her, he runs off to his second wife for comfort…”
“Boss! Another plate of chicken feet! Make them nice and tender!” a customer shouted loudly from a corner table, cutting off the broadcast.
“Coming right up!”
The owner turned his attention away from the television. He deftly lifted a serving of chicken feet from the pot of braising liquid and shook his head with a helpless sigh.
“Ah… So young, and born into wealth with a silver spoon in her mouth. Why couldn’t she cherish her own life? If her kindhearted grandfather knew about this from beyond the grave, how heartbroken he’d be…”
Hong Kong Sanatorium & Hospital, VIP Ward.
The room was located on the top floor of the hospital. Beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows, Victoria Harbour stretched into the distance, with cargo ships and fishing boats moving across the water.
But no one in the room had the heart to admire the view.
A young woman lay motionless on the hospital bed, her eyes tightly shut. Her face was as pale as paper, her lips completely devoid of color.
Her features were delicate and exquisite, with an aloof, almost icy quality between her brows. Even lying helplessly in a hospital bed, it was obvious that she was a beautiful woman.
But at this moment, there was not the slightest trace of vitality in her face. She looked like a flower on the verge of withering.
She was the very woman featured in the television report—the eldest daughter of Xinda Group, Gu Xihe.
The heart monitor beside the bed emitted its steady beeping sound. Drops of medication slowly fell through the IV line, as though counting down the moments of a life slipping away.
On the sofa nearby sat a woman in her forties, constantly wiping away her tears.
She wore an elegant, understated qipao, her hair twisted into a neat bun. Two emerald jade earrings hung from her ears, unmistakably marking her as a well-bred, affluent lady.
Yet the dark circles beneath her eyes betrayed the torment she had endured over the past two days. Even her normally well-maintained face had taken on a weary, haggard look.
She was Ming Lan, the legal wife of Gu Bingwen, the head of Xinda Group, and Gu Xihe’s mother.
“Wen-jie,” she asked, her voice hoarse, “has Qianqian been like this the whole time? The doctor said… he said that if she doesn’t wake up soon, her chances of waking up later will become even smaller…”
By the end, her voice had broken into sobs.
Wen-jie hurried over and handed her a cup of warm water.
“Madam, have some water first. Miss is a good person, and good people are blessed. She’ll definitely wake up.”
Wen-jie was in her fifties and had been Gu Xihe’s nanny since she was a child. Her grief was no less profound than Ming Lan’s. She had barely slept these past two days, keeping constant vigil by the young woman’s bedside.
“Madam, please don’t worry.” Wen-jie fought back her own tears as she gently reassured her. “I haven’t even dared to close my eyes. I’ve been watching her the entire time. Miss will definitely wake up.”
Ming Lan took the cup but did not drink.
“Wen-jie, I’ve been thinking about something these past two days.” Her voice was soft, almost as though she were talking to herself.
“If I had known this would happen, I never should have forced her to get engaged to the Li family. So what if that man was a poor boy from the mainland? We could have had him marry into our family. Anything would have been better than this. At least… at least my daughter would still be alive and well.”
Wen-jie lowered her head and wiped the tears from the corner of her eye with the back of her hand.
She secretly sighed.
If only you had thought this way before. What good is regretting it now?
Back then, hadn’t Madam and her husband been the ones who had pressured Miss together, insisting that she marry the Li family’s young master?
What kind of man Li Xuan was—who in Hong Kong didn’t know?
He was constantly entangled with several actresses and Miss Hong Kong contestants. Just two months ago, he’d even been photographed at a nightclub with two women in his arms. The scandal had made headlines for days.
And yet, despite all that, Mr. and Madam had insisted on marrying their daughter to him.
They talked about being well matched in status. They talked about joining forces between two powerful families.
When Miss refused, they locked her in the house, forbidding her from going out and preventing her from seeing her mainland boyfriend.
Miss had begged them countless times. She had cried again and again.
But they had refused to yield.
And in the end…
In the end, this was what it had come to.
The two women were lost in their grief, neither noticing that the young woman lying on the hospital bed had suddenly moved her finger ever so slightly.
Gu Wangshu had no idea how long she had been drifting through the darkness.
She only remembered crossing the Bridge of Forgetfulness.
And then… nothing.
She had thought that she would simply fade away.
Yet now, she could hear voices.
Could it be that I’ve been reincarnated?
The sound of crying came intermittently. It wasn’t loud, but it was unmistakably reaching her ears.
She tried to open her eyes, but her eyelids felt as though they were weighed down by thousand-pound stones.
After struggling for what felt like forever, she managed to open them a crack.
A blinding white light shot straight into her eyes, forcing her to close them again immediately.
What’s going on?
Wasn’t I already dead? How can I still see light?
No.
She kept her eyes closed and tried moving her fingers.
She could move them.
What about her toes?
They seemed to move too.
An indescribable sensation rose within Gu Wangshu.
Very carefully, she slowly lifted her hand.
“Qianqian! Qianqian!”
“Miss! Miss is awake!”
The voices beside her suddenly became clear and frantic.
Qianqian?
Wasn’t that her cousin Gu Xihe’s nickname?
Gu Wangshu’s mind was a complete blur.
“Doctor! Hurry and get the doctor!”
A moment later, Gu Wangshu felt someone gently pull open her eyelids. A harsh beam from a penlight shone directly into her pupils.
“Miss Gu, can you hear me?”
A strange male voice sounded beside her.
Gu Wangshu endured the pain and dizziness caused by the bright light. She blinked hard several times before finally opening her eyes completely.
Her vision gradually cleared.
Standing before her was a doctor in a white coat.
And beside him was a tear-streaked face that was both familiar and unfamiliar.
That was…
Gu Wangshu froze.
Although the years had left their marks on the woman’s face, she recognized her at a glance.
It was her aunt, Ming Lan.
“Miss Gu, Miss Gu, can you hear me?” the doctor asked again, pulling her out of her thoughts.
Gu Wangshu instinctively nodded.
She parted her lips, but her throat was so dry and raw that it felt as though it had been scorched by fire. Not a sound came out.
“Ah! Qianqian! You’re finally awake! You scared Mommy half to death!”
Ming Lan burst into tears of joy and lunged forward as though to embrace her, but the doctor politely stopped her.
“Mrs. Gu, please step aside for now. I need to conduct a thorough examination of Miss Gu.”
Mommy?
A bolt of realization flashed through Gu Wangshu’s mind.
She lowered her head and stared at her hands.
They were slender and fair.
There were no bruises from prolonged IV treatment.
There were no calluses from years of painting.
This wasn’t simply waking up.
She had taken over another person’s body.
She had returned to life through a borrowed body.