The supple white silk cut deep into her neck!

All the blood in her body surged to her head as the agony of suffocation crashed over her like a collapsing mountain.

Her breath grew thinner and thinner, the pain around her neck growing ever more excruciating.

No! She did not want to die!

She had not yet lived to see her son grow to adulthood with her own eyes. She had not yet had the chance to avenge herself for the humiliations she had suffered. She had not yet waited for her husband to return, so she could ask him face to face why he had betrayed her!

She was unwilling! She did not want to die!

The pain had accumulated to its breaking point. Before she plunged into absolute darkness, Ling Jingshu spent her last ounce of strength to force her eyes open, burning the sight of those savage and terrifying faces into the deepest part of her mind.

“A’Shu! What is wrong with you? Wake up, quickly.” A distant yet familiar voice echoed ceaselessly in her ears. A hand gripped her arm tightly, shaking her again and again.

As though doing so could rouse her from a long and wretched nightmare.

“A’Shu!” After repeating this for a long while, the voice finally choked with sobs. Slightly cool tears slid from the corner of someone’s eyes and dripped onto her hand.

Her fingers moved. Her eyelashes gave the faintest flutter.

“Young Master, the young lady’s hand moved — her eyes moved too.” Another long-unheard familiar voice sounded in her ear.

What terrible noise! Even in the underworld, there was no peace to be found.

She furrowed her brow and slowly opened her eyes.

A young boy’s face came into view.

The boy was around thirteen or fourteen years old, his skin pale as jade, his lips red and his teeth white, his features exquisitely beautiful beyond all belief. It was a pity that his eyes seemed veiled in a thin mist, dim and unreadable.

“A’Xiao,” Ling Jingshu called out that long-unheard name. Her voice trembled faintly, and the corners of her eyes grew wet. “Is it really you?”

This was her twin brother Ling Xiao, born half a shichen after her.

At the age of eight, Ling Xiao had suffered a heavy fall. After he was revived, his eyes had unexpectedly gone blind. Many renowned physicians were sought to treat him, but none succeeded. Ling Xiao, once celebrated as a child prodigy with extraordinary natural gifts, had everything destroyed by that accident. He could no longer read, write, or paint, and could only remain confined within the Ling household — just like a bird kept in a cage.

And it was not only Ling Xiao. She, too, was nothing more than another caged swallow, carefully kept and tended.

After her marriage, the Ling family had quickly arranged a betrothal for Ling Xiao. But just days before the wedding, Ling Xiao fell gravely ill and died. In those days, she had been far too naive, assuming that Ling Xiao had simply died of illness. It was only much later that she learned his death had been no accident at all — he had been poisoned and framed.

But by the time she knew the truth, it was already far too late. The her of those days was mired in her own desperate circumstances and could barely protect herself, let alone avenge A’Xiao…

So overcome with emotion was Ling Jingshu that she had not noticed how much younger and softer her own voice sounded.

“A’Shu,” Ling Xiao said, overwhelmed with startled joy. He reached out, feeling his way to Ling Jingshu’s hand. “Thank heaven! You have finally woken. For these past two days you burned with fever and would not regain consciousness, and you kept murmuring delirious words. You frightened me terribly.”

“That’s right, young lady — you have finally come to.” A maidservant in a green dress, her hair in two bun loops, spoke with a face full of excitement and delight.

This maidservant was around seventeen or eighteen years of age, with an oval face, a pair of large and bright eyes, a straight nose, and diamond-shaped red lips — her appearance was lovely and charming.

“Bai Yu,” Ling Jingshu said. Moisture glimmered in her eyes, and her voice caught in her throat. “So you are here too…”

Bai Yu was four years older than her. From the time Ling Jingshu was six years old, Bai Yu had come to serve at her side. After years of companionship between mistress and servant, their bond ran deep.

Bai Yu had a steady and composed nature, and was pretty besides — the most outstanding of all the maidservants in the Ling household. Li Shi, her stepmother’s nephew Li Erlang, had taken a liking to Bai Yu and had the shamelessness to ask that she be taken as a concubine. Li Shi spoke sweetly and pleasantly for a whole basketful of persuasion until she had worn Ling Jingshu down and made her nod her consent.

Her momentary softness had brought nothing but suffering to Bai Yu. Bai Yu had been married into the Li household as a secondary wife for less than three years before she was tormented to death by the primary wife. From that point on, mistress and servant were separated by the boundary between the living and the dead.

Over all those years, as those around her betrayed her one after another, whenever her heart was steeped in bitterness, she often thought of loyal and devoted Bai Yu. Her heart had been filled nearly to the brim with remorse and self-reproach.

Twenty-four years of life — how unjust heaven had been to her. Yet after she died, the heavens had finally opened their eyes and allowed her to be reunited with Ling Xiao and Bai Yu.

Without realizing it, Ling Jingshu’s face had become streaked with tears.

She took one hand and held Ling Xiao’s, and with the other she fumbled until she grasped Bai Yu’s hand. “A’Xiao, Bai Yu — it has been so many years since we parted, and I have thought of you constantly. Now that I too have died, the three of us can be reunited in the afterlife. We will not be lonely anymore.”

Ling Xiao froze at these words, unable to make sense of them for a moment.

Bai Yu smiled with a helpless but tender affection. “The young lady has been running a high fever these past two days and has probably become delirious. Going on about life and death like that — speaking of such things is inauspicious.”

Her voice was exactly as warm and melodious as it was in memory.

Ling Xiao, too, came back to his senses and gripped Ling Jingshu’s hand with heartfelt concern. “A’Shu, you must have had a terrible nightmare! There is nothing to fear. Bai Yu and I are perfectly well, and you are going to get better too.”

Only then did Ling Jingshu become aware that something was wrong.

Ling Xiao’s hand was warm. Bai Yu’s hand was soft. The tender concern written on both their faces was vivid and unmistakable.

And furthermore — she was now sitting on a finely carved wooden bed. Through the pale pink gauze curtains, she could see the smooth surface of a bronze dressing mirror, an elegant vase, a screen embroidered with peonies…

This was no underworld, no realm of the dead. This was clearly the private chamber she had occupied as a girl!

Ling Jingshu’s mind was in tumult. On instinct, she withdrew her hand and touched her own neck.

She had refused to take her own life, and had been strangled to death by three zhang of white silk — yet now, there was no deep-bruised mark cut down to the bone on her neck. Instead, it was warm and smooth…

What on earth was going on?

A staggering suspicion suddenly surfaced in Ling Jingshu’s mind.

“Bai Yu, bring me a mirror.” Ling Jingshu’s breathing was unsteady, her voice rapid, and an unusual flush had risen to her cheeks.

Bai Yu answered and hurried to fetch the bronze mirror, holding it up before her chest.

The polished surface of the bronze mirror reflected a young girl’s face, still carrying a trace of youthful inexperience.

Brows like distant mountains, dark without a stroke of ink. Lips like red cinnabar, vivid without a touch of rouge. Skin delicate and smooth as jade. Most beautiful of all were those eyes, clear and luminous as water. When she smiled the faintest smile, it was like a spring breeze skimming across a lake’s surface, stirring the graceful charm of a young girl into gentle ripples.

At fourteen years of age, this girl was like the most prized Luoyang Brocade peony in the Ling family’s peony garden — beautiful and captivating, radiant and peerless. Beautiful with a purity and clarity that took the breath away.

To die and be reborn — such a thing was a wonder that could shake the world.

Yet this absurd and unbelievable thing had, improbably, happened.

Ling Jingshu gazed at this familiar-yet-unfamiliar face of hers, but what flashed through her mind was the pale, gaunt, and haggard face of ten years hence. Eyes dull and vacant, a heart desolate and numb. Drifting through life in a stupor, existing without truly living…

When the memories of the past washed over her, Ling Jingshu’s heart felt as though it had been jabbed hard by a fine needle. That sharp, piercing pain spread outward rapidly.

Such breathtaking beauty had brought her nothing but unbearable humiliation. She would rather have been born into an ordinary family, plain of appearance, and lived out her life in simple, uneventful quiet.

Ling Jingshu stared at the bronze mirror for a long time without speaking.

Bai Yu assumed Ling Jingshu was lamenting how wan and weary she looked, and offered a comforting smile. “The young lady has been lying abed for two days — a touch of pallor is only natural. Once you have recovered, dressed in bright clothing, you will surely be more beautiful than ever.”

The Ling family had auspicious feng shui, for it was known for producing beauties. Across the first through fifth branches, there were eleven girls in this generation. A few had died young; only six had grown to adulthood.

Ling Jingshu was the ninth-born, and among all her female cousins she was the most remarkable in both appearance and accomplishment. Since the age of ten her name had spread throughout Dingzhou, and naturally she had always taken care of her appearance.

Ling Jingshu closed her eyes and drew a long, slow breath. When she opened them again, they had recovered their clarity and calm. “Bai Yu, I am hungry. I want a bowl of chicken broth noodles made by your own hand.”

Bai Yu was thoroughly delighted and smiled immediately. “Very well — your servant will go to the kitchen now and make the noodles.”

Bai Yu was an excellent cook and quick with her hands. In less than one incense stick’s time, she returned carrying a bowl of hot, steaming chicken broth noodles.

The noodles were springy and firm, the broth fragrant and rich, with bright green vegetable leaves nestled within — it was enough to make anyone’s appetite stir.

Ling Jingshu caught the familiar aroma and felt a faint ache in her nose. She picked up her chopsticks, gently lifted a small portion, and began to eat slowly.

The Ling family had taken great care in raising their daughters. Not only had they engaged a female tutor to teach them zither, chess, calligraphy, and painting, they had also specifically invited Nanny Liu — who had retired from palace service — to come to the household and instruct them in etiquette.

Nanny Liu was strict in temperament. Sitting, reclining, walking, standing, every word and every smile — all were governed by proper rules. The young ladies of the Ling family had suffered no small amount of hardship as a result. Ling Jingshu was no exception. However, after several years of instruction, the results were evident.

Even with her stomach growling with hunger, Ling Jingshu ate without the slightest hurry, her manner of eating graceful and pleasing to the eye.

Ling Xiao could not see, and so his hearing was especially acute. Listening to the faint sounds of her eating, he could not help saying: “A’Shu, you have not eaten anything for two days — your stomach must be terribly empty. Never mind those rules and just eat freely.”

Bai Yu chimed in agreement: “Young Master is right. There is no one else here; the young lady need not hold back on any account.”

Warmth spread through Ling Jingshu’s heart, and the corners of her lips curved upward gently. “Very well. I will do as you both say.”

After a full bowl of hot chicken broth noodles had settled in her stomach, her cold hands and feet grew warm, and strength returned to her entire body.

“This morning, the old madam had someone come to inquire about how the young lady was faring. Now that the young lady has woken, you ought to go and pay your respects to her.” Bai Yu said with a smile. “Your servant will help the young lady dress and put her hair up now.”

Ling Jingshu gave a soft sound of assent, lowering her eyelids to conceal the coolness in her eyes.

Because of the distinction between men and women, Ling Xiao — though he was her own twin brother and moreover unable to see — still needed to avoid any impropriety. He rose to his feet of his own accord. “A’Shu, I will wait for you outside.”

Bai Yu brought over a pile of brand-new garments. Pale pink, goose yellow, lavender, pale green — all were colors of brilliant, delicate shades suited for a young girl to wear. “These are the new dresses that were just completed a few days ago. Which one would the young lady like to wear?”

“No need for a new dress,” Ling Jingshu said evenly. “Bring me that lake-green dress.”

The young lady was the most beautiful of all, and her disposition gentle and pleasing. She had always been the particular favorite of the old madam. The old madam liked to see her granddaughters dressed in bright, lovely finery. The young lady catered to her tastes and had always been especially particular about her dress and adornment.

Yet today, the young lady was going to see the old madam in an everyday, well-worn dress… This departure from her usual habits was baffling.

The lake-green dress was still mostly new, and was perhaps a touch plain and understated. Yet worn on Ling Jingshu’s body, it was still exceptionally becoming. Bai Yu also arranged Ling Jingshu’s hair into a double flat bun style, with a pearl flower pinned on each side.

Ling Jingshu stopped Bai Yu as she reached for bracelets and a necklace. “No need — this is fine as is.”

Bai Yu paused, surprised in her heart, but asked nothing more.

Ling Jingshu fixed her gaze on Bai Yu and suddenly said, quite out of the blue: “Bai Yu, I will never allow anyone to humiliate you. Not ever.”

Bai Yu felt a surge of warmth in her chest, and the tears in her eyes threatened to spill over.

How fortunate she was, to have met such a generous and gentle-hearted young lady.

Ling Jingshu looked at the moved face before her, but what came to her mind was the Bai Yu of her past life — tormented and dead. A pang of sorrow rose in her chest. She promptly gathered herself. “Bai Yu, come with me.”

Ling Xiao stood obediently outside the door, waiting. Ling Jingshu went forward and took his hand, speaking gently. “A’Xiao, let us go together to pay our respects to grandmother.”

Ling Xiao nodded, his smile pure and guileless.

Ling Jingshu pressed her lips together and straightened her spine. Holding Ling Xiao’s hand, she walked toward Yonghe Hall — like a soldier marching to the battlefield, facing without fear the storm that was about to come.

Bai Yu followed silently and loyally at her back.

Having passed through death, one comes to understand the value of life all the more, and to cherish those at one’s side all the more dearly.

Those who had wronged her. The humiliations she had endured. She would demand justice for them, one by one.

Even if the other party held a lofty and untouchable position. Even if vengeance required everything she had to give.

She would spare no cost.