In Simulated Life, characters were ranked by tier. From lowest to highest, there were four levels: N, R, SR, and SSR.
In Miss Player’s original family, her father, mother, grandmother, eldest brother, and younger brother were all R-tier. Among her sisters, only the concubine-born Second Miss Jiang was R-tier; the rest of the siblings were all N-tier.
N-tier characters were everywhere. The common people in streets and alleys were almost all N-tier. Even the clerks in the county office were mostly N-tier. Within the yamen, those of R-tier were generally officials—and even then, they needed rank. For example, her father, Jiang Yan, was a County Deputy Magistrate, a minor eighth-rank official.
However, an NPC’s tier was not strictly proportional to their current status. Personal qualities were an essential component as well. For instance, Miss Player’s former husband, Shen Zhiheng, was an SSR-tier character.
That was precisely why she had been willing to marry him.
A life without entanglement with an SSR-tier character was simply incomplete.
Although Shen Zhiheng came from an official family, the Shen family was not a great aristocratic clan—merely a branch of a broader lineage. The highest-ranking member in his household had been his grandfather, a fifth-rank official who had already retired.
His background was not top-tier, yet even before passing the provincial examination, he had already been rated SSR. His learning, scheming ability, and appearance were all first-rate. That he later achieved the rare feat of placing first in the Provincial, Metropolitan, and Palace Examinations in succession, and eventually rose to dominate the court as Regent Prince, was hardly surprising.
What player would not like high-tier characters? Miss Player was no exception.
She could not simply look at a character and freely view details like name, identity, or age—the game did not offer that function. But checking a character’s tier was possible. In her previous run, she had specifically enabled notifications for SR and SSR characters. In this run, she had not disabled that feature.
Within a radius of fifty meters, the alert would always trigger.
At present, in all of Cuixi County, there were only two SR-tier characters.
So before they had even stepped into the Jiang residence, Miss Player already knew who had arrived.
From within her swaddling cloth, she looked toward her father Jiang Yan. Sure enough, a yamen runner guarding the gate whispered a few words to him. Jiang Yan immediately excused himself to his colleagues and guests, leaving a room full of people behind as he personally went out to receive them.
Outside the residence stood a carriage adorned with pale cloud patterns and green trim. The coachman set down a step stool. A maid in a peach-red dress lifted the curtain and stepped down first. Her movements were so smooth that her skirts did not flutter, and the jeweled hairpins in her coiffure did not sway—there was something distinctly refined about her bearing, as effortless as flowing clouds.
She then helped an elderly lady of extraordinary presence down from the carriage and across the threshold.
Jiang Yan hurried forward and bowed.
"This humble official, County Deputy Magistrate Jiang Yan, greets the County Magistrate, and pays respects to Lady Huang. Please come inside and rest. I have already prepared warm tea."
Behind the elderly lady stood a young man of refined appearance. He wore a round-collared robe of deep russet, the cuffs trimmed with narrow pale brocade of exquisite workmanship. A silk sash of the same color was loosely tied at his waist, from which hung a small ink-jade ornament of flawless quality, swaying lightly with his steps—graceful and unrestrained.
With a faint smile, he reached out to help Jiang Yan up.
"Deputy Magistrate Jiang is the host today. This official has come with my mother to congratulate you on the birth of your daughter. Today, let there be no distinction of rank—only host and guest."
Jiang Yan had never expected the newly appointed County Magistrate to personally visit his humble residence. Still, he had made preparations in advance. If circumstances had been truly unexpected, he would have rearranged or squeezed space as needed to secure the best viewing position for them.
That part was manageable. What troubled him was that Lady Huang appeared unwell, as though still recovering from illness.
Since the County Magistrate had taken office with his mother, more than half a month had passed. Word that Lady Huang had been seeking physicians soon after settling in could not be concealed from the county officials. Yet no one knew what illness she suffered from.
The County Magistrate had already been managing affairs for days and had interacted frequently with local officials. This, however, was Lady Huang’s first time leaving the residence.
Jiang Yan could not help but worry about failing in his duties as host.
When he led them into the hall, Midwife Ma was just lifting water to sprinkle over the baby’s plump feet. The swaddling had been loosened, revealing soft, lotus-root-like limbs. The baby’s round eyes gazed curiously at the guests.
At this stage, the baby was supposed to cry—the louder the better, known as “sounding the basin.”
But she did not cry.
Nor did Midwife Ma deliberately make her cry. Instead, she took a basin of warm water—no longer the earlier cool water filled with fruits and now somewhat soiled—and began washing her while reciting auspicious blessings:
"A basin of water, clear and bright,
Washes the little darling clean and light;
Wash the brows and eyes—fair as a celestial maiden,
Wash the mouth and nose—gathering fortune;
Wash the chest and belly—health abides,
Wash the legs and feet—a bright future ahead,
Growing up blessed beyond all others."
Throughout the entire process, the star of the ritual did not cry once.
None of the guests whispered among themselves. All were staring at the baby.
For a moment, everyone seemed entranced, smiling foolishly, forgetting who they were and where they stood—unaware even of the County Magistrate’s arrival.
It was all due to one of the world’s great illusions:
She’s looking at me.
Only one person was not mistaken.
That was Lady Huang.
Miss Player was studying her.
The last time she had seen this SR-tier character had been when she was six years old. By then, Lady Huang had already been at death’s door, carried out in a special chair to bask in the sun.
Their interaction had been brief. Within half a year, Lady Huang had passed away.
As far as Miss Player knew, after arriving in her post with her son, Lady Huang had been bedridden with illness. The sickness had begun on the journey and had never been cured.
Miss Player suspected it was due to not acclimating to the local environment. She guessed the County Magistrate thought the same. But with the vast distance between the Capital and Cuixi County, how could he risk sending a sick person back on such a journey? Staying meant lingering illness; traveling meant a high chance of dying on the road.
This was, after all, an ancient world—medicine was primitive, and travel was arduous. Even powerful families were bound by such limitations.
In her previous run, Miss Player had learned painting from Lady Huang. They had shared a teacher-student bond, so she knew details even Jiang Yan did not.
The title Lady Huang held had been bestowed by imperial decree. Being addressed as such meant one had a husband or son who was at least a seventh-rank official. Though it sounded modest, it was not easily obtained without merit.
Among all the magistrates Miss Player had known in her previous run, only this County Magistrate’s mother held such a title.
It was not due to the County Magistrate’s own achievements. How could a newly appointed official compel the Ministry of Rites to make an exception?
Lady Huang’s title came from her husband.
Her husband was the current Marquis of Weiyuan, descended from founding heroes, holder of military power—one of the highest figures in the Capital.
However, Lady Huang was not his principal wife, and the County Magistrate was merely one of many concubine-born sons.
Even so, in this small county, the mother and son were like two radiant Buddhas.
Among the guests, Lady Huang noticed the baby staring at her without blinking. Without thinking, the baby stuffed a hand into her own mouth.
Instinctively, Lady Huang stepped forward and gently pulled the chubby hand out. Only afterward did she realize—babies had no teeth; she could not have hurt herself.
"Hee hee—"
The baby burst into a pure, innocent smile. Even the bright red bellyband she wore could not outshine that smile.
Madam Sun said, "Since she was born, this is the first time she has smiled. It must be that Your Ladyship’s golden hairpin is so large and bright—even the child knows it’s beautiful."
Madam Sun did not know who this was. Earlier, Jiang Yan had tried to announce the County Magistrate’s arrival, but he had signaled for discretion.
Her words had originally been meant as a jab—complaining that the girl was greedy, smiling at wealth and not at her own grandmother.
She was sour with jealousy.
But Lady Huang took it as praise for her attire.
That, she did not mind.
She had heard all kinds of flattery before—but this one struck exactly the right note.
The baby’s first smile meant fate.
Such a beautiful child, fated to her—how wonderful.
It was the first good thing she had encountered in many days.
The heavy weight pressing on her heart seemed to lift. Without hesitation, she removed her golden hairpin and placed it into the basin.
"If the girl likes it, let her have it."
The County Magistrate thought to himself: everyone said the Deputy Magistrate’s mother was a coarse peasant woman, uncultured and rustic. They had all misjudged her. Her tongue was sharper than any gossiping crone’s—otherwise how could she produce such perfectly timed flattery?
He did not believe the baby had smiled because of his mother.
But he had learned since childhood: as long as something worked, the means did not matter.
His mother was rarely in such good spirits. Naturally, he would not undermine her.
By now, the Third Day Bath Rite was mostly complete. Midwife Ma returned the baby to Madam Sun’s arms.
"The young lady may now be dressed."
Outside, the banquet had been laid. Guests could take their seats, though not all would remain to drink.
Jiang Yan had assumed the County Magistrate and Lady Huang would leave.
To his surprise, they showed no intention of doing so.
The County Magistrate himself had not planned to stay. He had not come for Jiang Yan’s sake. In the Capital, he might bow and scrape before nobility—but in this small county, even a prefect would not expect his flattery, let alone a mere deputy magistrate.
But the timing of this ceremony had been perfect.
His mother had been ill for over two months. Medicines were taken daily, yet her condition did not improve. He had shifted from seeking doctors to praying to the gods.
The abbot of the local Daoist temple had advised that her illness stemmed from emotional stagnation. Seeing joyous occasions might help.
The heart governed the spirit. If constrained, it led to unrest; in severe cases, it harmed the liver and spleen.
Her symptoms matched.
If it could not cure her, at least it might lift her spirits.
Yet joyous occasions were not so easy to come by. Though the county was under his jurisdiction, he could not simply intrude into people’s homes. Even among wealthy households, it would be inappropriate.
Then Jiang Yan’s invitation had arrived like timely rain.
Though he was not entirely satisfied with the Jiang family’s status, a newborn was a happy event. Whatever faults the adults had, the child was innocent.
Since falling ill, his mother had often spoken of his marriage. Seeing a baby might cheer her.
Thus, he had come.
And now—
he stayed.