Speaking of herself, her parents had died early, and her family had no particular background; she had built everything from scratch. She always acted with careful planning and had caught the gold rush era, quickly earning more money than she could spend in several lifetimes. If not for the terminal illness, her previous life would have been more comfortable than most people’s. Even knowing that her condition was beyond medical help, she had never given up hope for survival, spending money like water on one surgery after another until her last breath.

Fortune had not favored her, but she had no regrets.

Many people couldn’t endure such suffering and cried out to give up treatment and let nature take its course, but she was different. She only believed that a bad life was better than a good death; living one more day meant seeing the beauty of the world one more time.

Death truly meant having nothing at all. In the moment of closing your eyes and taking your last breath, would you be willing to part with this colorful world?

Perhaps it was because of this persistence and longing that heaven had given her a second chance.

Her clothes were now dry, and she put them back on one by one.

The attire here was very different from that of her original world, and she made several mistakes during her first attempt at dressing. Though troublesome to arrange, once properly worn, the clothes were quite light and didn’t hinder movement. Based on this fact alone, she was fairly certain that the outside world was no peaceful era of prosperity.

“From now on, my name is Feng Miaojun,” she gazed at the fire, solemnly telling herself.

Yesterday’s matters were like yesterday’s death; what her former self was called and what she had done no longer mattered. From today onward, she was Feng Miaojun, and Feng Miaojun was her.

Her outermost garment was a small lambskin coat, which provided excellent warmth after drying. The fabric worn underneath was smooth, soft, and lightweight—probably made of fine satin. From this alone, it was clear that the original owner of this body came from a good background.

Having inherited the memories, she now had time to carefully sort through them from beginning to end, and couldn’t help being surprised. Feng Miaojun originally wasn’t even called by this name. She had been the youngest daughter of the King of An Xia, nicknamed An’an, with the title of Princess Changle. Two years ago, she had been sent out from the royal palace and placed under the care of the Queen’s distant relatives, thereafter taking the surname Feng from her adoptive parents.

The Feng couple’s biological daughter had also passed away two years ago, and after adopting this girl, they transferred their affection to her, treating her as their own.

Unfortunately, the good times didn’t last.

Perhaps due to Feng Miaojun’s harsh fate, about a year ago, Master Feng contracted a plague while doing business abroad. He managed to hold onto his last breath until reaching home before passing away, leaving only her, her adoptive mother, and her adoptive brother to rely on each other.

Thinking of this, she softly chuckled, never expecting that the body she had obtained by chance was actually of noble birth.

Feng Miaojun had been sent out of the palace two years ago. A nine-year-old child was already conscious of things, and as a princess, she had been exposed to more secrets than ordinary children, and more reliable ones at that. Compared with the existing memories, she understood that Ao Yu’s soul had spoken the truth—this vast, expansive Middle Earth world originally had demons and monsters in conflict, with humans emerging as the final victors.

Later, humans established a unified great empire, the Haoli Kingdom, which was unprecedentedly powerful and prosperous, forcing monsters into deep mountains and great rivers, and protecting humans as they multiplied in sun-drenched lands.

However, following the principle that “unity must eventually lead to division,” the Haoli Kingdom exhausted its destiny after six hundred years of existence and collapsed with a thunderous crash. Numerous powers arose throughout the realm, and to this day, there were six major kingdoms and many smaller feudal states coexisting in the Middle Earth—well, not counting An Xia.

This background didn’t seem peaceful at all, and her mood grew inexplicably heavy. She had been born in a peaceful era, never experiencing the ravages of war, but the ancestors’ words were true: better to be a dog in peaceful times than a human in chaotic ones.

Thinking of this, a face of beautiful prosperity somehow floated into her mind.

The intuition that a man called Yun Ya gave her was one of extreme danger, inconsistent with his appearance!

In truth, she had been far less calm in the abyss than she had appeared to the Ao Yu. Even if she wouldn’t starve to death, she didn’t want to linger in that desperate place.

When she had clung to the large fish and submerged in the water, she happened to look up and see a thick chain locked around the Ao Yu’s tail, made of unknown materials, with one end fastened to the largest rock—the one forming the wall, which must have weighed tens of millions of jin. This explained why, despite the underwater passages running in all directions, the Ao Yu could only move within the deep pool:

It had been trapped and kept there by someone.

Essentially, this poor monster was no different from a pig raised by farmers, both waiting to be fattened and slaughtered. Regardless of whether the person raising the pig—no, raising the Ao Yu—was Yun Ya, he was likely to return afterward to check. If she had remained there, she would have been like a turtle in a jar, at the mercy of others.

As the Ao Yu belonged to the dragon family, its entire body was surely a treasure. The fact that Yuan Qi only wanted its dragon pearl indicated that this person was wealthy and not lacking in treasures. She had also only taken the dragon pearl, firstly because she couldn’t even cut through the Ao Yu’s skin and flesh, let alone carry it away, and secondly for an extremely important reason:

The dragon pearl she had eaten—it was fine if Yun Ya didn’t know of its existence; but if she had taken any other part of the Ao Yu, and this person returned and discovered it, he would know someone had been there. Being new to this world, she wasn’t clear about what mysterious methods might exist, and it wouldn’t be good if he tracked her down.

Such a hot potato, she dared not covet.

Even back in the abyss, she had already determined that after swallowing the dragon pearl, she would retreat to the ends of the earth, staying as far away from this formidable person as possible, preferably never meeting again in this lifetime.

This way, everyone could live in peace—good for her and good for him.

After all, in the oath she had sworn to the Ao Yu, there was no clause about delivering herself to death.

She, Feng Miaojun, wanted to live well, to live with zest and flavor, to make this journey through the world worthwhile.

Having eaten well and dressed warmly, drowsiness washed over her. This body was, after all, young, and she finally succumbed to the flanking attack of the sandman, hugging her knees and falling into deep sleep.

Feng Miaojun didn’t know that her decision was very correct.

On the second day after she left, a shadow set foot in the abyss.

Seeing Ao Yu’s floating corpse, it couldn’t help but let out a long howl, filled with anger. Afterward, it carefully investigated the surroundings, disposed of the fish corpse in some manner, and then departed.

Next two days, even though Feng Miaojun was anxious, she remained in place without moving forward.

She was waiting for someone, also gambling on luck based on the original owner’s fragmentary memories. Hope was becoming increasingly dim; if no one came within the next five hours, she would have to make alternative plans after dawn the next day.

Fortunately, in the evening of that day, a shadow flashed outside the cave. The hawk she had released a few days ago flew back, turning back into a wooden carving upon landing. Behind it followed a thin man with eyes radiating sharp light. He first examined her from head to toe, confirming she was unharmed, then dropped to his knees with a thud: “Peng has arrived late, please punish me, young miss!”

“Rise,” she extended her hand to him, “Do you have any food?”

—Military Intelligence Express Line—

Since starting the new book, many Water Fans have been asking me how long I plan to write. Hehe, I know everyone was scared by the length of Ning Xiaoxian. However, Protecting the State Master will be Water Cloud’s brand new attempt, aiming to be concise yet explosive, thus striving for around one million words.

Of course, specific situations require specific analysis, not ruling out it being shorter or longer. Water Cloud can only guarantee that this book will be more exciting.