Chapter 1: Crossing the Underworld
Lin Xihe drifted between sleep and wakefulness, faint noises drifting into her ears. Through the haze, an unfamiliar presence drew near, and a hand slowly reached toward the tip of her nose.
Whose hand was this?
Lin Xihe only felt the hand probe beneath her nose before the person suddenly went limp and collapsed heavily to the ground.
Immediately after, a shrill female scream pierced the air: “Oh no! The young mistress, the young mistress!!!”
Lin Xihe’s heart skipped a beat. Had she just been declared dead while still full of vitality? Was modern medicine this careless?
She struggled to open her eyes a slit. She saw the person stagger a few steps, violently push open the door, and lock eyes with a lavishly dressed matron outside.
The middle-aged woman pressed a silk handkerchief to her nose and mouth, her eyelashes glistening with manufactured tears. A turbid sigh escaped from beneath the handkerchief: “Heh… Finally got rid of this fool.”
Lin Xihe paused, realizing something: she had died, and someone was quite happy about it.
A plump girl trailed behind the matron, who reached back to pinch the girl’s waist fat and commanded: “Start crying.”
“Wuu…” The girl followed the matron’s meaningful glance with each sob, dragging out her mournful wails. “Sister, don’t go! How can I live alone after you’ve left me!”
Lin Xihe understood another thing: this historical dream was quite comprehensive, even including a poorly acting plastic sister.
The Cloud Brocade quilt was soft and comfortable. Lin Xihe decided to catch more sleep—but her dreams were repeatedly interrupted.
Disturbing someone’s sweet dreams was utterly detestable!
The plastic sister leaned over the bedside, sobbing between theatric pauses: “Sister, may you journey peacefully. As for your inheritance—your fiancĂ© Second Master Wen, I’ll reluctantly ‘inherit’ him for you.”
Lin Xihe was amused: What an absolutely wild dream! Twenty-three years of being single since birth, and finally the state was assigning me a partner!
She needed more sleep.
Under the matron’s direction, the funeral proceedings followed ritual propriety. Their composed demeanor suggested they had rehearsed every scene countless times.
The old matron roughly tore open Lin Xihe’s sleeping garments—waking up now seemed unwise, so Lin Xihe could only lie stiff as a corpse.
The maid who had been staying in the inner chamber, holding neatly folded Funeral Garments in her arms, suddenly shoved the old matron away with her elbow. “The young mistress has the most delicate skin. It can’t withstand any roughness.”
The old matron sneered: “Her body’s already stiff. What delicacy remains?”
Someone called from outside: “Wang Momo, the second young mistress insists on going to the Wen residence.”
The old matron rushed out: “It’s about to rain! Don’t get your skirt wet!”
The light dimmed slightly. Lin Xihe hurriedly cracked open her eyes—outside the window, the sky was gathering thick clouds.
The room returned to silence.
The maid suddenly knelt before Lin Xihe, her fingers tightly clutching Lin Xihe’s sleeve.
“Young mistress, perhaps this is better. Forget the suffering of this lifetime. Find an ordinary, happy family and live again.”
“Don’t be afraid, young mistress. Qingwu will join you soon.”
Finally, no one remained by the bedside. Now she could sleep peacefully. Lin Xihe began to doze off—at least let her see if the state-assigned husband was a broad-shouldered handsome man!
She buried her head in the quilt, determined to play deaf no matter how much chattering occurred outside.
Her mind recalled the bestselling historical romance novel her company had acquired. “Lin Beast of Burden” had single-handedly managed both curation and layout, only to be asked to cosplay as the novel’s female lead in the end.
“Xiao Lin, you have the best look in our company. You’re just too perfect to cosplay the female lead.”
Lin Xihe: Boss, if you want to save money, just say so.
Whether money was actually saved she didn’t care to know—this overworked employee just wanted rest.
Reality and dreams blurred into a chaotic haze.
Muffled sobs seeped through the brocade quilt like distant thunder trapped within storm clouds before a downpour, each cry drilling into Lin Xihe’s ears.
How could she rest like this?! Lin Xihe felt the fury of having her coffin lid pried open.
In her blurred vision, shadowy figures swayed.
White cloth, a plump silhouette.
Lin Xihe rubbed her eyes and became fully awake.
Before her stood an antique-style room, beneath her a soft bed. Had kind colleagues settled her here for a nap?
But… Lin Xihe stared unblinkingly in one direction.
A girl dressed in ancient-style plain clothing stepped onto a round stool, her chubby head stretching into a cloth noose.
Lin Xihe: What’s happening? Is this the female lead from some popular historical romance novel hanging herself?
But wait! The female lead wasn’t this plump! Besides, didn’t the company hire her as the cosplayer? Why was someone else here?
The sobbing figure trembled slightly, her back flesh undulating with the movement. Finally, the girl stood on tiptoe, clumsily turned around, and muttered: “I must watch my lady’s corpse depart. My lady, wait for me! Wait for Qingwu!”
…Their eyes met.
Seeing the other’s dramatic performance, Lin Xihe got drawn into the act: “Hey now, life is beautiful! Nothing’s worth dying over! Sister, don’t do this!”
Too late—Qingwu had already kicked away the stool.
Lin Xihe saw her final expression clearly.
This was what they called dying with unresolved grievances.
.
For exhibition planning, Lin Xihe had read that historical romance novel. But the vague fragments in her mind now didn’t seem to match the novel’s content.
—The Wen and Lin families had maintained generations of friendship.
That year, both matriarchs were diagnosed with pregnancy, often leaning against the flower wall while laughing about their unborn children’s betrothal: if they bore a son and daughter, they would marry; if two sons or two daughters, they would become sworn siblings.
After ten months of pregnancy, the fruits ripened—the Wen family joyfully welcomed a precious son, while the Lin family obtained their darling daughter.
The arranged marriage naturally fell into place…
“Heaven plays cruel tricks! What should we do now? Someone, come quickly! Rush to the Wen residence to announce the funeral.” The steward’s panicked shouts severed Lin Xihe’s thoughts. To notify her fiancĂ©, wouldn’t a WeChat funeral notice suffice? Why send someone running their legs off? Something that takes one second shouldn’t be so complicated.
.
Meanwhile, when Duke Wen’s residence received the funeral announcement from the Lin family, Duke Wen was stunned momentarily before actually sighing in relief: “The Lin family’s foolish daughter has passed. This is just as well, saving us from future worries.”
Wen Zhixu, who was writing at his desk, glanced up from the corner of his eye: “Grandfather, should I still write the betrothal withdrawal letter?”
On the desk lay Embossed Stationery bearing Wen Zhixu’s personal handwriting, the strokes vigorous and steep: Having never met Miss Lin, rushing into marriage due to parental arrangements would likely not make an ideal match…
Duke Wen: “Since she has departed, let’s not disturb further.”
Wen Zhixu finished the final stroke, set down his brush, and prepared to seal it as a gesture of respect.
Just as he searched for his seal, a newly arrived servant presented a visiting card: “Second Young Master, Miss Lin from the Lin residence requests an audience.”
Lin Xihe? Wasn’t she dead? Wen Zhixu took the card, his eyes scanning to the bottom where the signature read Lin Zhirou.
Unfamiliar.
The servant, unaware of the neighboring Lin residence’s situation, merely said: “Second Young Master? Miss Lin is waiting.”
“Not receiving.”
As his words fell, firecrackers exploded loudly outside the residence. With the Lin family holding a funeral next door, who would be setting off firecrackers?
Wen Zhixu’s voice deepened: “Who’s making such noise? Highly inappropriate.” He strode swiftly outward.
The Wen and Lin residences stood separated only by a single wall. Wen Zhixu stood at the main gate of the Wen residence, his gaze following the long bluestone path leading directly to the Lin family’s main entrance.
A woman built like a small hill covered her ears as a string of fiery red firecrackers exploded at her feet.
Spotting Wen Zhixu emerging from the residence, she waved eagerly at him.
“Brother Zhixu—”
Wen Zhixu frowned. “Close the gates.”
The woman’s voice persisted: “Brother Zhixu, I need to speak with you!”
“Wen Qi,” Wen Zhixu called.
The servant behind him replied cautiously, “Second Young Master, you dismissed Wen Qi from the household last month.”
Within a single winter season, Wen Zhixu’s attendants had been replaced like flowing water.
Seeing Wen Zhixu remain unmoved, the woman hitched up her skirts and stumbled toward him.
Wen Zhixu’s patience evaporated. “Close the gates.”
The servant ventured, “Second Young Master, but that’s Miss Lin…”
Wen Zhixu shot him a sharp glance and corrected, “There is only one Miss Lin in the Lin residence.”
When the new servant still looked bewildered, Wen Zhixu added, “She just passed away. Understand?”
The servant nodded uncertainly.
Wen Zhixu rapped the servant’s head and scoffed, “Even if she were alive, she wouldn’t have grown up looking like that.”
The servant stole a glance at the proud Lin young lady and immediately averted his eyes.
This Miss Lin had skin the color of soy-braised goose and a round figure resembling the leather balls young nobles liked to kick.
In that brief moment of hesitation, Lin Zhirou came rolling toward the Wen residence gate like a spinning top, peering desperately through the crack at Wen Zhixu’s figure.
“Brother Zhixu!”
“Wen Qi, release the hounds.”
“Second Young Master, I’m not Wen Qi.”
“You are now.”
The pupils visible through the gate crack suddenly contracted: “…”
The cacophony of barking dogs, responding servants, creaking gate hinges, and the young lady’s screams rose in waves, drowning out the funeral silence from the Lin residence.
.
Heavy dark clouds pressed down, casting the sky above the Lin residence in gloomy shades.
Since seeing Lin Xihe for the final time, Min Shi felt relieved of her greatest worry, her entire demeanor noticeably lighter.
Wang Momo hurried in to report: “Second Madam, the young master set off firecrackers. Will the master punish him?”
“Oh? It was Yan’er? The master only has this one son.” Min Shi’s eyes crinkled. “Yan’er is still young—it’s natural for children to play. Let him be, he’s just a child.”
Indeed, a seven-foot-tall child. Wang Momo arranged her professional fake smile.
“Contact Matchmaker Zhang tomorrow,” Min Shi said urgently. “With Lin Xihe dead, my Zhirou is rightfully the legitimate daughter now. We must observe all the proper ceremonies—not a single step can be skipped.”
“Second Madam,” Wang Momo voiced her concern, “the residence is still in mourning. If we propose marriage now, the Wen family might have reservations.”
“True enough.” Min Shi went to Lin Xihe’s courtyard again, claiming to supervise funeral arrangements.
She desperately wished Lin Xihe could be coffined today, buried tomorrow, and have her own daughter gloriously married the day after.
.
Qingwu had served the eldest young mistress since she could remember. Other servants often laughed at her for serving a mute, simple-minded mistress. Back then, Qingwu was still young—she only knew that loyalty contained a burning heart within.
This heart was connected to her young mistress’s dull one—it beat only when the other did.
Today, it had stopped beating.
Qingwu no longer wished to live.
Having seen her mother hang herself, she knew what to do.
Round stool, white silk… She specially removed her shoes, afraid of dirtying the stool.
As for the three-foot silk ribbon—she’d learned how to tie sailing knots from a boatman.
In her dazed state, firecrackers suddenly exploded from the neighboring Wen residence, sounding like celebration.
Qingwu burned with grief and indignation: “The young mistress just passed, and they actually…”
She finished tying the sheepshank knot, slipped her neck into the noose, stood on tiptoe and turned around, steadying her breathing.
Before her consciousness faded, she used her last bit of strength to lift her eyelids and gaze at her young mistress for a final farewell.
Author’s Note:
Next Book: “My Imperial Seal Has Quit”
The female lead’s soul transmigrates into an imperial seal, and a dog emperor chases her from ancient times to the modern era… in a hilarious romance?
Advance preview synopsis—if you like it, dear readers, please add it to your collection!
Study influencer Yun Yi had just stepped out of a stationery exhibition when a mad Taoist priest crashed into her.
Spouting nonsense, he declared: “Purple qi comes from the east, you carry the aura of a dragon—you were born to be an emperor.”
Yun Yi: “Me, the second coming of Wu Zetian? Well, I’ll go to bed early tonight then.”
After all, you can dream about anything.
The priest pulled out a notebook with a yellow talisman: “Just 666 yuan, and I’ll fulfill your imperial destiny.”
“Six-six-six, bro.Yun Yi grabbed his Taoist robe with her left hand while pointing at the scattered cultural and creative products on the ground with her right. “Pay up!”
After that, every time she fell asleep, she would dream of a man in dragon robes.
The dreams were continuous, like a TV series.
Season 1: The Imperial Study.
Yun Yi stood expressionless and motionless. The dog emperor slapped her butt, and she stumbled down.
Season 2: The Eastern Empress Dowager and Western Empress Dowager were arguing. The emperor failed to mediate and had no choice but to issue an edict.
Yun Yi wriggled her butt and reluctantly sat down.
So tired, sticky and grimy all over from mud—she wanted a bath…
Season 3: The prime minister’s household was in turmoil—the main wife, concubines, and side chambers teamed up to beat him. The old man claimed illness and stayed home.
The emperor was furious: “We shall issue a decree! Execute the old fool’s entire clan!”
Yun Yi rubbed her sore butt—bloodsucking feudal patriarch!
Even 996 overworked laborers weren’t as exhausted as her!
Since it was just a dream, she quit. She was done.
The newly enthroned emperor finished drafting the decree but couldn’t find his imperial seal.
His imperial seal was missing…?
.
Xiao Zhi’s lifelong wish was not to be emperor.
The era before him seemed pretty good—warfare didn’t require thousands of troops, there were giant birds flying in the sky, dogs had steel frames and even wiggled their butts.
Except, the dark-skinned foreigner in front of him was speaking gibberish.
“We—mmph!”
Yun Yi clamped a hand over his mouth and explained to the foreign teacher: “My husband played an emperor game and it broke his brain.”
She tidied Xiao Zhi’s long hair and reasoned with him: “This one-on-one IELTS class cost me forty thousand. Please, just study properly, okay?”
Xiao Zhi closed the heavenly book: “Abandon. Let’s study something else.”
“No way, I’m a study influencer! If you don’t study, how are we going to make money?!” Yun Yi steadied him and appealed to his emotions. “What are we going to feed those three and a half people outside?”
Outside the classroom, three pairs of bright, eager eyes stared in.
A ninja-obsessed guard, a flamboyantly out eunuch, and a pregnant palace maid.
Little time, heavy tasks—they needed to make money!
Xiao Zhi: “My tomb is at XXX coordinates. Let’s go dig it up tonight? The burial goods are quite lavish.”
Yun Yi glared coldly: “I’ll sign you up for another class—law.”
“We are the law!”
“…Keep this up, and the mental hospital will come to haul you away!”
*This book references the following six works:
“Dream of the Great Song,” “Life in the Song Dynasty Through the ‘Along the River During the Qingming Festival’ Scroll,” “Daily Life of Song Dynasty Citizens,” “The Daily Lives of People in the Song Dynasty,” “Pretending to Live in the Song Dynasty,” “History of the Song Dynasty Imperial Examination System”
The food, clothing, and accessories noted in the text are all sourced from six reference books. Any omissions will be supplemented as needed.