Zhao Hanzhang took the medicine the maid handed her and drank it in one gulp. She popped a candied fruit into her mouth, returned the bowl, and asked, “Did you find out? Among those injured this time, was there anyone like me who lost their memory?”

The maid Ting He shook her head. “Replying to Sanniang, I haven’t heard of any.”

“Then has the news of my injury and memory loss spread?”

Ting He looked at her worriedly. “We already told outsiders as Sanniang instructed, but… they don’t seem to believe it.”

Zhao Hanzhang didn’t care whether they believed it or not. She only wanted Professor Fu to know that there was a young lady in the Zhao family who had lost her memory.

She just didn’t know whether Professor Fu had her good fortune—was he still… floating around, or had he, like her, borrowed a corpse to return to life?

That was right. She had possessed a corpse.

In the ten days since waking, she had tried every possible method to verify it. She had indeed taken over the body of a young girl who looked remarkably similar to her.

The girl was also surnamed Zhao, ranked third in the family—Sanniang. She was only fourteen this year.

Too young.

Zhao Hanzhang even felt embarrassed occupying her body, so at night she would often call out to her, hoping the girl would come back and continue her own life.

After all, she herself had lived twenty-eight years. She had suffered hardships, but also enjoyed her share of blessings. Though she too had died young, the accident had happened to her—so the consequences should naturally be borne by her. She couldn’t arrive in another world and still seize someone else’s body.

This karmic debt was too heavy for Zhao Hanzhang to bear.

Unfortunately, no matter how she called, the girl never appeared. The body felt completely empty, not a trace of soul remaining.

Zhao Hanzhang could only shift her attention to Professor Fu.

Although that day she had only glanced back once, the man in the suit who could see her and even called her “Professor Zhao” had to be Professor Fu, who had been involved in the same accident.

Truly handsome.

No wonder the students always whispered about how good-looking he was.

She wondered whether his luck was good or bad. If he had also possessed a corpse like her, what identity would he have now? Would he be able to hear the message she had spread and come looking for her?

And if he hadn’t possessed a body…

Now that she was human again, could she even see him?

Zhao Hanzhang sighed over this problem every day.

After Ting He put away the medicine bowl, she returned and said, “Sanniang, Second Lady and Fourth Lady have come to see you.”

“I won’t see them,” Zhao Hanzhang replied without even lifting her head. “Tell them that just seeing them gives me a headache.”

Ting He fell silent for a moment, then curtsied and withdrew.

Zhao Hanzhang lay on the bed and sighed. Although she wasn’t the original owner, she had inherited her memories, so strictly speaking she hadn’t really lost them.

When she didn’t think about something, she wouldn’t know it. But the moment she tried to recall it, the relevant memories would surface in her mind. When she saw someone the original owner once knew, the past would gradually emerge.

It was almost like using a search engine.

But even searching took time, and she still had to read and digest the memories afterward. She couldn’t always recognize people immediately, so her reactions were slow.

Thus Zhao Hanzhang simply declared she had lost her memory.

After all, she really had injured her head—and truly… couldn’t remember things very clearly.

Unfortunately, no one seemed to believe her.

Zhao Sanniang’s given name was Hezhen. She had just turned fourteen not long ago.

Her father didn’t need much mention—he had died early and never gained much reputation.

The one worth mentioning was her grandfather.

Her grandfather Zhao Changyu was famous throughout the country. He held the title Earl of Shangcai and had served as Director of the Secretariat, known for his clean and simple governance.

He had only one son—her father—but he had died.

And only one grandson—her younger brother Zhao Yong, twelve years old this year.

But he was… not very clever.

That was the polite way to say it.

At twelve, besides recognizing his own name, he could only recognize the names of his father, mother, sister, and grandfather.

Half of those even shared the same surname “Zhao.”

Because of this, Zhao Changyu intended to pass the title to his nephew Zhao Ji—Sanniang’s cousin-uncle.

But recently a rumor suddenly spread through the residence: Zhao Changyu intended to arrange a prestigious marriage for Zhao Sanniang so that her own brother Zhao Yong could inherit the earldom and keep the family property from passing to another branch.

Before Zhao Changyu could respond to the rumor, twelve-year-old Zhao Yong had already taken people out of the city to hunt.

The empire had just gained a new emperor. Outside the city were rebel troops and wandering refugees everywhere.

For a not-very-bright young aristocratic boy to leave the city at such a time was practically offering himself up.

When the young girl heard that her brother had gone out of the city, she immediately gathered people and chased after him. Just as chaos erupted outside the city, she fell from her horse while saving Zhao Yong.

When she was carried back, she had already stopped breathing.

Zhao Hanzhang had met with an accident in an elevator. When she opened her eyes, she was already in this world. When she closed them again and woke once more, she was inside this body.

For the past ten days, the Second and Fourth Ladies who had persistently tried to see her were Zhao Ji’s daughters—her cousins.

Zhao Hanzhang had not yet decided what path to take next, so she didn’t want to see them.

She wanted to find Professor Fu first.

Transmigration itself was already miraculous, and she had even returned through corpse possession. Perhaps the brilliant Professor Fu could discover some pattern behind it and help them return to their own world.

She just didn’t know what had happened to their bodies in the elevator.

If they returned… could they still come back to life?

The thought worried Zhao Hanzhang. She spread her arms and legs flat on the bed, even less inclined to move.

She soon heard Ting He hurrying in.

Without opening her eyes, Zhao Hanzhang said, “Didn’t I say I wouldn’t see them?”

“Sanniang, it’s the Master who wishes to see you.”

Zhao Hanzhang opened her eyes and pushed herself upright. “Grandfather?”

“Yes. Steward Cheng has come to escort you.”

Chengbo was her grandfather’s most trusted aide, always by his side. Even the current chief steward of the household was only his younger brother.

After thinking for a moment, Zhao Hanzhang said, “Bring my clothes. I’ll change.”

She could refuse anyone else—but not Zhao Changyu. He was the head of the family.

Ting He quickly found a slightly worn set of everyday clothes for her.

Zhao Hanzhang looked at them with satisfaction and nodded approvingly. Once she changed, four sturdy servant women carried in a sedan chair, lifted her onto it, and carried her out.

Oh, one more thing.

When she fell from the horse, she hadn’t only injured her head—her leg had been hurt as well. It wasn’t serious, but noble ladies with such injuries were required to stay in bed.

If she dared move too much, this body’s mother would burst into tears—crying while hugging her for an entire day and night.

So these past few days Zhao Hanzhang had been extremely obedient.

If she could lie down, she would never sit.

If she could sit, she would never stand.

This was the first time she had left—rather, been carried out of—her courtyard.

Flowers bloomed everywhere along the path. Spring light was bright and gentle, butterflies fluttering through the air. It was obvious the estate’s gardens were carefully maintained.

As the sedan chair passed, servants along the way lowered their heads and bent aside respectfully. Only after it had gone far away did they dare straighten slightly and resume their work.

The closer they came to the main courtyard, the more respectful the servants became.

The courtyard gates opened.

Inside stood a tall parasol tree, its branches lush with leaves. Beneath it was a table, and beside the table sat a slender, elegant… middle-aged man.

The moment Zhao Hanzhang saw him, scenes of the grandfather and granddaughter’s past interactions surfaced in her mind.

Heavens.

This refined and handsome middle-aged man… was actually her grandfather.

—