Pain.
A bone-deep pain, like a blunt knife slowly scraping the back of her head, made Ye Mengyi’s vision darken.
Even breathing felt heavy and obstructed.
She tried to open her eyes, but her eyelids were as heavy as lead.
Her ears were filled with howling mountain wind, brushing through the wild grass and making a “woo woo” sound—like someone crying softly in the distance.
A mix of smells lingered at her nose: the earthy scent of soil, the decay of dried grass, and a faint trace of blood.
The combination was nauseating.
“Wa… water…”
Her cracked lips trembled.
Ye Mengyi forced out a weak sound from her throat, only to be met with a violent coughing fit. It tugged at the wound on the back of her head, sending waves of pain through her body as she convulsed.
Her consciousness felt like cotton soaked in water—heavy, muddled, and drifting. Countless fragments of unfamiliar memories surged into her mind, scrambling to take shape.
A dilapidated mud house. A leaking roof. Rough coarse grain cakes. And a thin, yellowed little girl crouching in a corner, staring fearfully at figures in the kitchen, her eyes filled with panic.
This was a girl named Ye Mengyi—same name as her—and she was fifteen years old.
The original owner’s grandfather and grandmother had three sons: the eldest uncle Ye Hu, her father Ye Xuan, and the third uncle Ye Ping. The grandparents had hoped to build a scholarly farming family, so they sent all three sons to school.
Ye Hu disliked studying and often secretly encouraged Ye Ping to play tricks on the teacher. Eventually, both were forced to drop out.
Only Ye Xuan loved studying. He even passed the imperial examination as a xiucai, becoming the pride of the family.
On his way back home once, he found a fainted woman by the roadside named Xiu Yu and brought her home to recover. Xiu Yu had lost all her memories and didn’t know where she came from. She was literate, delicate, and knew nothing of housework—soft and fragile, easily evoking pity.
Ye Xuan fell in love with her at first sight. It was the first time he disobeyed Old Lady Ye’s wishes and insisted on marrying Xiu Yu. From then on, the old lady disliked her greatly and often scolded and abused her.
After giving birth to Ye Mengyi, Xiu Yu’s health never recovered. When Ye Mengyi was two years old, she passed away. Ye Xuan was devastated and fell into deep grief, unable to recover. No matter how the grandparents tried to persuade him, nothing worked.
The eldest uncle Ye Hu married Feng Yan and had three children: the eldest son Ye Qingyan (17), second son Ye Qingfeng (15), and daughter Ye Jiaojiao (13).
The third uncle Ye Ping married Yang Yun and had two sons: Ye Qing’an (7) and Ye Qingze (2).
When the original Ye Mengyi was eleven, she persuaded her father to continue pursuing his studies. He finally let go of his grief and decided to resume his examinations. The whole family was happy.
After finally saving enough money for travel expenses to the prefectural city, Ye Xuan caught a cold on the way. Without money for treatment, he died far from home.
Upon hearing the news, Grandfather Ye also passed away soon after. From then on, Ye Mengyi’s life became hell.
Her aunt-in-law was harsh, her third aunt cunning, and her grandmother extremely biased—only caring about the grandchildren from the eldest uncle and third uncle’s families. As for her, the fatherless orphan, she wasn’t even worth a glance.
Hunger and cold were constant. All dirty and exhausting work fell on her. Any small mistake resulted in beating and scolding.
Today, she had been sent to the back mountain to dig wild vegetables. She managed to gather a basket of fresh shepherd’s purse, but it was seen by her third uncle’s son.
Ye Qing’an was only seven years old, but spoiled beyond reason. He rushed to snatch her basket. She refused to let go. Angry, he kicked her in the stomach and shoved her hard.
She stood on the edge of a slope—one push was enough.
She rolled down.
Her head hit a protruding stone. Everything went black.
And she, Ye Mengyi from the 21st century—a modern agricultural science graduate working herself to exhaustion in labs and fields—had just finished an all-nighter breeding high-yield rice varieties…
…and the next second, she had entered this girl’s body.
“She… died?”
A wave of sadness rose in her heart.
In her world, her parents were alive, her family stable, her life ordinary but comfortable. Though she was exhausted every day working in agriculture research, it was still a life of hope and security.
But this girl…
A short life filled only with suffering. Even her death came with wounds and humiliation.
She sighed softly.
Since she had taken over this body, she would live on her behalf. She would give her a proper life—and never allow herself to be bullied like this again.
Just then—
Heavy footsteps approached from nearby, along with rough breathing and the faint clink of metal.
Ye Mengyi’s heart tightened.
She tried to look up, but the pain in her head blurred her vision.
She could only move her eyes toward the sound.
Through the tall wild grass, a tall figure appeared.
A man in washed-out coarse cloth clothing, trouser legs rolled up to his knees, revealing strong, muscular calves stained with mud and grass.
He carried a bow on his back, an arrow bag at his waist, and held a wild chicken in his hand—still twitching weakly.
The setting sun outlined his broad shoulders, straight back, and a sharp, angular face.
Sword-like brows, bright eyes, a high nose bridge, and tightly pressed lips. His skin was a healthy wheat color—clearly a man who spent his life in the mountains.
He seemed to notice something and paused, his gaze falling on Ye Mengyi below the slope. A hint of surprise flashed through his usually calm eyes.
“Someone?”
His voice was deep, like clear mountain spring water flowing through stone—cool yet steady.
He quickly walked over, crouched down, and examined her wound. His brows immediately furrowed.
The injury on the back of her head was still bleeding, dark red blood soaking her hair. Her face was pale as paper, lips cracked, breath faint—like she might die at any moment.
“Isn’t this the Ye family girl?”
He recognized her and murmured to himself.
His name was Lu Qingshan, a hunter living at the foot of the eastern mountains.
The Lu family had no close ties with the Ye family, but he had seen this girl before—always silently carrying heavy baskets, either washing clothes by the river or digging wild vegetables in the mountains. Small, thin, always bowed under pressure.
He never expected to see her here—injured this badly.
Lu Qingshan checked her breath with his hand.
A faint warmth still lingered.
“She’s still alive. We need to send her back immediately.”