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Characters:

Ruan Mingzi: The Female Lead of the story.

Ruan Mingyan: Blood Sister of Mingzi. A mute.

Old Madam Zhao: The matriach of the Ruan Family.

Ruan Angui: Third son of the matriach. “Ruan Laosan” 3rd Uncle of the Female lead.

Ruan Chengzhang: The eldest male son of the Ruan's 3rd Generation. From the second branch of the 2nd Generation. Cousin of Female lead.

The sky hung low, black and oppressive, as though it meant to crush people beneath its weight.

The wind cut like knives across the face, so sharp one could hardly open their eyes. Heaven and earth seemed drained of color.

Yet in the northern corner of Yuyuanpo Village, a household was in chaos.

Within a yard fenced by bamboo, a girl lay flat on the uneven ground. Her eyes were shut tight, her hair matted with blood, strands clinging to her pale cheeks. Whether from loss of blood or the cold wind, her face was deathly white, her lips cracked and colorless. On her body clung a smaller, thinner girl, weeping soundlessly.

No one knew that Ruan Mingzi had been awake for some time. She could heareverything around her, yet her body refused to move, her eyes refused to open.

She didn’t know why she had suddenly appeared in this strange place, nor who these clamoring people were. Forcing herself to calm down, she listened while slowly absorbing the inexplicable flood of memories that weren’t her own.

“Truly heartless creatures!” An old crone, with drooping eyelids and triangular whites showing in her eyes, shrieked in fury.

“Out of the kindness of my heart, this old woman took in these two wretches, born under a curse that killed their own parents and raised them with food and drink—and what do I get? This wretched brat made my precious grandson tumble down the mountain!” She jabbed a finger at the bloodied girl on the ground.

“The Ruan family won’t keep such an ungrateful, ill-omened wolf cub! Third son, drag the two of them out!” Obediently, Ruan family’s third son grunted in response. First, he yanked up the smaller girl clinging to her sister, lifting her by the arm like a chick. The child’s face was streaked with tears, her mouth open in a voiceless wail. She was a mute.

A villager, unable to bear it, quickly interjected:

“Now, now, Old Madam Zhao, these two are your granddaughters after all. That Zi-girl’s head wound is serious—she’s lost so much blood! Even if you don’t want to raise them, at least wait until she’s healed before you cast them out, no?”

Old Madam Zhao gave a heavy, disdainful snort. Her brows shot upward, sharp and hostile, her voice dripping with scorn.

“She’s nothing but a jinx, a broom star sweeping disaster into this house! Let her stay here to recover, and who knows what further harm she’ll bring us? Third Aunt, if you’re not afraid, why don’t you take these two scourges into your home?”

The woman’s face flushed with embarrassment. In these times, food was scarce—families could barely feed themselves. Who could afford to take in two half-grown girls?

Seeing the woman fall silent, Madam Zhao sneered again. “So much for playing the saint!” With a sharp look at Ruan Laosan, she ordered, “Well? Get them out!”

Ruan Laosan (third son of the Ruan Family) stepped forward to drag the girl. But the moment his hand touched her blood-slicked arm, he recoiled as though shocked by lightning, blurting in disbelief,“ Damn it… this girl—she’s cold. Cold as corpse.”

Madam Zhao’s face twisted, her voice breaking into panic. “Bah! Bad luck! Quick! Wrap her in a straw mat and toss her up the back mountain at once!”

Ruan Laosan’s expression soured. Yet before he could turn to fetch a mat, a jagged bolt of lightning ripped across the black sky with a deafening crack, lighting half the heavens.

And in that same instant, the “cold corpse” on the ground stirred—slowly pushing herself upright. Another thunderclap burst overhead, illuminating her ghastly figure: a blood-streaked face, hair hanging in damp clumps, pale as death.

Red blood.

Black hair.

White skin.

The crowd froze where they stood.

For a fleeting instant, her eyes seemed to blaze with countless starlights. Yet when one blinked and looked again, all they saw was a weak, bloodied girl.

She lifted her gaze to Madam Zhao, her voice hoarse, ghostly “Grandmother… how ruthless your heart is.”

Madam Zhao stumbled backward, legs giving out as she fell onto the ground. “A ghost—ghost!”

It was at that thunderclap that Ruan Mingzi had suddenly regained control of her body. By now, she had absorbed the foreign memories in her mind and understood. She had transmigrated, possessing the body of this pitiful girl who bore the same name as her.

In this backward, superstitious land, she mustn’t let them believe she had “returned from the dead.” There was no time for grief or confusion. Since fate had granted her this chance, she would live well—live better than anyone!

“Grandmother,” she whispered, her thin frame making her eyes look even larger, shining with tears that rolled silently down her cheeks, “We are also your grandchildren. Why do you care only for Brother Zhang and not whether Yanyan and I live or die?”

Madam Zhao wavered, fear and doubt twisting her face. She had heard of ghosts that wept blood, but never one that shed tears like a living human.

Ruan Mingzi couldn’t help but glance toward Ruan Laosan—he was the one who had just declared she was “cold as a corpse.” Ruan Laosan had done enough shady deeds in his life was naturally terrified of ghosts. Now, even his words stuttered as he protested, “J-just now—clearly, c-clearly her arm—it was c-cold, cold as ice!”

Ruan Mingzi’s voice came low and calm, tinged with eerie softness “The wind’s strong tonight, and your niece is barely dressed. How could her arm not be cold?” As she spoke, she rubbed her arms and shivered, looking every bit the living girl chilled to the bone.

With just a few words, Ruan Mingzi dispelled everyone’s fear that she was some ghost come back to life. Old Madam Zhao’s courage swelled again.

Placing her fists on her hips, she snapped, “Since you’re not dead, then take that mute sister of yours and get out! Your father separated from the family long ago — how shameless are you to still freeload in my house!”

Listening to her, one might really think that Ruan Mingzi and her sister had been living off the Ruan family for free. Ruan Mingzi’s eyes were calm as water, though inwardly she let out a cold laugh.

“Fine,” she said evenly. “I’ll take my sister back to our own home.” She took the trembling, half-frozen Ruan Mingyan by the hand, her hoarse voice steady. “But before that, Grandmother, there’s something we should settle.”

“Half a year ago, when my sister and I came to your house, we lived in that low, drafty thatched hut where you keep firewood. We ate the food we brought ourselves — two whole sacks of grain — and even brought along a string of coins. I won’t mention the grain, but that money, Grandmother, I’ll have to ask you to return it.”

Old Madam Zhao’s eyes bulged wide. She had never imagined that her timid little granddaughter would actually dare to ask her for money! “You worthless little wretch! How dare you demand money from your grandmother? You heartless, ungrateful thing—your parents are long dead! Your grandfather and I never got a single bite of food or scrap of cloth from them, and now you dare come asking us for silver?!” Her sharp triangular eyes flared viciously, her chest heaving as though she might leap forward and strangle Ruan Mingzi on the spot.

“Ungrateful thing! Why didn’t that thunder strike you dead just now!” Any ordinary girl, scolded like that by an elder, would have been sobbing by now.

But Ruan Mingzi stood unmoving, calm and poised, letting the old woman’s spittle fly without flinching. Only after Old Madam Zhao had spent her fury did Mingzi finally lift her pale, bloodstained face and speak softly, changing the subject entirely, “Grandmother, do you know how I hit my head?”

At that, Madam Zhao’s expression shifted. She suddenly remembered her eldest grandson, Zhang-ge’er, who was still lying inside the house. Her face hardened again as she stepped forward, grabbing for a stick. “You’ve got the nerve to bring that up? I’ll beat you to death, you little wretch!”

Ruan Mingyan panicked and threw up her small hands to shield her sister, but Mingzi calmly pulled her back, her voice ringing out clearly “It was Ruan Chengzhang who pushed me! But wicked deeds bring wicked ends—he lost his footing himself and fell too!”

Madam Zhao froze, the stick halting midair. Her eyes narrowed, and she sneered, venom dripping from her voice, “So what if he pushed you? Even if Zhang-ge’er beat you to death, it’s no more than what your lowly life deserves!”

She spat heavily on the ground. “He falls, and you still dare blame him for it? You truly are a cursed broom star!”

Ruan Mingzi had expected this reaction. She smiled sweetly and tucked back the blood-soaked strands of hair behind her ear revealing the horrifying gash on her head — already crusted with dried blood.

“Yes,” she said lightly.

“This granddaughter’s life is cheap indeed, not worth a speck compared to Zhang-ge’er’s precious one… I heard, though, that your fine grandson is soon to study with the esteemed Scholar Gao from Niu Village, isn’t that right?”

At the mention of Zhang-ge’er, Madam Zhao first puffed up with pride—but when she heard the rest of the sentence, her face darkened with suspicion.

Why was this little wretch bringing that up now?

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