In May, the countryside was lush and green.
Yu Daman, a well-known gambler, drove a donkey cart along the country road, humming cheerfully as he went. It took him over an hour to travel from Laosong Village to Beishan Village. If he hadn’t knocked his daughter unconscious earlier, he would never have been willing to borrow a donkey cart from his fifth brother.
What Yu Daman didn’t know was that, in the short time it took to burn a stick of incense, the girl lying in the donkey shed had already died once—and a new soul had quietly taken her place.
Yu Chunmiao’s previous life had ended on an equestrian field.
She had been competing in a 1.4-meter obstacle course when everything went wrong. Helmets were expensive, and to save money, she had used an old one. The horse refused to jump, shaking its head violently. As she struggled to steady herself, the helmet buckles loosened.
The horse caught the scent of a mare in the waiting area. Its attention drifted completely away from the competition. Irritated and restless, it suddenly lashed out.
The iron horseshoe struck the back of her head.
Yu Chunmiao died on the spot.
The last thing she saw was her horse happily running off toward the mare it had been longing for.
As her consciousness faded, a desperate voice echoed in her mind.
“Can you help me live? Please… please…”
It was the voice of the original owner of this body.
At the moment of death, Yu Chunmiao agreed.
When her awareness slowly returned, her soul settled into the body of a girl who had just been beaten unconscious by her gambling father.
It felt like a rain-soaked bird finally finding shelter in a warm nest.
In less than half an hour, she had stepped into an entirely different life.
Memories that didn’t belong to her flooded into her mind.
This body’s name was also Yu Chunmiao.
Her mother had drowned when she was ten. She had been pulled from the river, lifeless. From the moment Chunmiao saw her mother’s body, something inside her broke. She stopped speaking, stopped crying, stopped laughing—living like an empty shell.
Her sister-in-law was cruel. Her father was addicted to gambling. From the age of ten to sixteen, she worked like a servant, never eating her fill and often suffering beatings.
Now, to repay his gambling debts, her father had sold her for three taels of silver to the Qi family, claiming she would become the wife of their disabled eldest son.
Three taels of silver—more than half a year’s income for an ordinary farming family.
Since she was already here, she might as well accept it.
Better to live in this unfamiliar ancient world than to disappear completely.
Yu Chunmiao silently prayed that Heaven would at least grant her a “golden finger”—or, failing that, let her future husband be handsome.
After all, her life in the modern world hadn’t been easy either.
At thirteen, she lost both her parents, leaving behind heavy debts. Her grandmother struggled to support her until she graduated high school, then could do no more. Without going to college, Chunmiao left her hometown of Hu Jian and went to Modu to work.
By chance, she ended up at an equestrian club.
She started at the bottom—cleaning stables, doing dirty and exhausting work. But seeing how much money professional riders and coaches earned, she gritted her teeth and endured. With no education, factory work would never earn her much. Riding, however, required skill, not a degree—and there was a chance to rise.
So she pushed herself harder than anyone else.
She rode the horses no one dared to touch, fell again and again, and climbed back up every time. Fierce and stubborn, she eventually caught the attention of an experienced rider who took her on as a student.
At twenty-eight, she was just one obstacle away from winning a 100,000-yuan bonus—the exact amount she needed to clear her final debt.
After that, life would finally be easy.
She wanted to stroll through university campuses, experience sweet romance, and buy herself a big house and a beautiful car.
But fate had other plans.
In her final moments, she had prayed once more—at the very least, let her future husband be handsome. After all, besides making money, her greatest hobby in her last life had been admiring good-looking men.
The donkey cart jolted to a stop.
Yu Daman lifted the curtain and motioned for her to get down.
Expressionless, Yu Chunmiao stepped off the cart with her small bundle in hand. She was led into a neatly kept earthen courtyard that looked far better than the home she had left behind.
Her new life had officially begun.
The courtyard wasn’t large, but it was clean.
The rammed-earth walls were sturdy, the wooden door newly repaired, and even the ground had been swept carefully. Compared to the collapsing house Yu Chunmiao had lived in before, this place already felt… decent.
Three boys stood in the yard.
The tallest one was thin but straight-backed, his features sharp and calm. Though his clothes were patched, they were clean. His eyes carried a quiet vigilance, like someone forced to grow up too early.
Behind him stood two younger boys, one on each side. One peeked out nervously, gripping his brother’s sleeve, while the other stared at her openly, curiosity mixed with caution.
None of them smiled.
Yu Chunmiao understood.
To them, she wasn’t family. She was a transaction—three taels of silver exchanged for a future burden.
A coughing sound came from inside the house.
An old woman was helped out slowly, leaning on a wooden stick. Her face was sallow, her steps unsteady, as if a gust of wind might knock her over. Yet her eyes were sharp and clear.
This was Madam Qi.
She looked Yu Chunmiao up and down for a long moment, her gaze lingering on the girl’s thin frame and dull expression. Finally, she sighed.
“Not much flesh,” she muttered. “But at least she’s alive.”
Yu Daman laughed awkwardly. “Alive is good. She doesn’t eat much either—easy to raise.”
Yu Chunmiao lowered her eyes.
That sentence alone was enough to tell her she had not left hell—only changed its shape.
Madam Qi reached into her sleeve and handed over a small cloth pouch. Yu Daman’s eyes lit up instantly. He weighed it in his palm, grinning from ear to ear.
“Three taels, just as promised,” Madam Qi said slowly. “From now on, she belongs to the Qi family.”
Yu Daman nodded repeatedly. “Of course, of course. From today on, she has nothing to do with the Yu family anymore.”
Without even sparing his daughter a glance, he turned and left, afraid she might somehow crawl back and become a burden again.
The donkey cart creaked away.
Yu Chunmiao stood there, watching her so-called father disappear down the road without looking back.
Her heart was calm—unnaturally calm.
Perhaps the original owner’s despair had already been exhausted.
Madam Qi sighed again. “Come inside.”
The house was dim, but tidy. There was no smell of rot or dampness, only the faint scent of firewood and dried herbs.
“You’re to marry my eldest son,” Madam Qi said bluntly. “His legs were injured years ago. He won’t beat you, and he won’t bully you. If you’re willing to work and live honestly, the Qi family won’t mistreat you.”
Yu Chunmiao lifted her eyes.
At the doorway sat a young man in a wooden wheelchair.
His legs were covered with a thin blanket. His face was pale, but his features were strikingly refined. His eyes were dark and calm, carrying a quiet dignity that didn’t match his circumstances.
Handsome.
Very handsome.
Yu Chunmiao paused.
…So this was Heaven’s compensation?
The young man met her gaze briefly, then looked away, his expression indifferent but not cold.
Madam Qi continued, “We don’t have much. If you’re thinking of running, you can try—but there’s nowhere to go. If you stay, as long as this old woman is alive, I won’t let you starve.”
Yu Chunmiao lowered her head and nodded slowly.
“I won’t run.”
Her voice was hoarse, unused to speaking, but firm.
She had nowhere else to go—and no intention of wasting this second life.
Madam Qi seemed relieved. She nodded. “Good. Starting tomorrow, you’ll help with the housework. Later, when things are settled, we’ll talk about the wedding.”
The three brothers watched her silently.
Yu Chunmiao clenched her hands.
No golden finger yet.
No sudden miracles.
But she had a family to protect—and a future to rebuild.
Quietly.
Steadily.
One day at a time.