Chapter 1

The plum rains of Jiangnan were always lingering. On the day Shen Ci was born, the century-old peony in the backyard of the Shen residence unexpectedly bloomed. Holding his newborn daughter in his arms, Shen’s father gazed at the trembling Wei Zi peony and smiled. “My Yoyo must be the reincarnation of the Flower Goddess.” She was the cherished jewel of the Shen family. Her mother, Madam Lin, was the eldest daughter of a scholarly family in Suzhou. She had suffered from a heart condition since childhood, and giving birth to Shen Ci had nearly cost her life. Shen Ci inherited her mother’s illness, as well as her frail and ailing constitution. She had never once stepped beyond the vermilion gates of the Shen residence. To her, the outside world was nothing more than a glimpse of spring seen through carved windows, the poetry and literature recited by her tutors, and the sweet fragrance of chestnut pastries brought back by the maids. She had learned music, chess, calligraphy, and painting. She had studied the Four Books and Five Classics. Everything about her life had been carefully sheltered within this magnificent residence, where dozens of servants treated her with the utmost care and precious medicinal herbs were used to nourish her fragile body. “Miss, you look well today. Would you like to take a walk in the garden?” “The wind is too strong. I won’t go.” She was like an orchid raised beneath a glass cover, unable to withstand wind and rain or endure the cold and heat. In her twenty-odd years of life, Shen Ci had taken more medicine than she had eaten meals and seen more physicians than she had seen unrelated men. She had learned to calmly accept a handkerchief whenever she coughed up blood and quietly lean against a soft pillow whenever her heart began to race, counting each beat in silence. Her parents had nearly cried themselves dry over her. They had given her the childhood name “Yoyo,” hoping she would live a carefree life. But in the end, she did not survive that winter. Snow fell heavily that day. Shen Ci was sitting beside the window in the warm chamber, embroidering a flying bird. As she worked, a sudden, excruciating pain seized her chest. She lowered her head and saw a crimson plum blossom blooming across her plain white undergarment, its color even more vivid than the silk thread in her hand. She wanted to call for someone, but no sound came out. The snowy scene before her gradually blurred. The last thing she saw was the pot of orchids she had tended for years sitting on the windowsill. So this was what death felt like. There was no pain, no fear, only a strange sense of weightlessness, as if she had finally set down the burden she had carried for so many years. …… When she opened her eyes again, Shen Ci thought she had arrived in the underworld. All around her was an endless expanse of pale emptiness. There was no sky, no ground, no light, and no shadow. She lowered her head and looked at her hands. They were pale and slender, yet they no longer looked sickly and weak. She could actually feel her heart beating strongly. Once. Then again. Steady and full of life. “Where… am I?” She cautiously took a few steps forward. There was no solid ground beneath her feet, yet she did not fall. In this terrifyingly empty world, there was only her. Or rather, only her soul. With nothing else to do, she simply sat down cross-legged. After all, there was no ground to speak of anyway. She remembered the strange tales her mother had once told her. According to those stories, after death, one had to travel along the Road to the Underworld, cross the Naihe Bridge, and stand before the King of Hell. The King of Hell possessed a Book of Life and Death that recorded every person's lifespan. “King of Hell?” She tentatively called out, her voice drifting through the void without receiving an echo. “Black and White Impermanence?” “Lady Meng?” Nothing. Just as Shen Ci thought she would remain in this endless white void until the end of time, a book suddenly appeared before her. The book materialized out of thin air, floating directly in front of her. There were no words on its cover, yet it radiated a faint golden glow. Shen Ci’s heart skipped a beat. Could this be the legendary Book of Life and Death? She cautiously reached out her hand. The moment her fingertips touched the pages, the book opened by itself. On the first page were several large characters: The Little Angel of the Capital’s Powerful Elite Shen Ci: “……” She stared at the title for a long while before flipping through several more pages. The protagonist of the book was a woman named Su Zijin. She had been abandoned by her parents as a child and grew up in the impoverished environment of an orphanage. Despite all the hardships in her life, she had remained kind and pure. Through sheer determination and outstanding academic performance, she was admitted to the same university attended by the male protagonist, Jiang Duo, changing her fate through knowledge. After graduation, Su Zijin joined Jiang Duo’s company because of her exceptional abilities and became his personal assistant. As they worked together day after day, their relationship gradually developed from that of superior and subordinate into that of companions who understood and supported one another. Years later, during an accidental conversation, Jiang Duo was shocked to discover that Su Zijin was actually the person who had saved his life at the scene of a car accident during his sophomore year of college. The revelation broke through the boundaries of their professional relationship, and their feelings quickly deepened. Jiang Duo came to trust Su Zijin even more. Throughout the middle and later parts of the story, as their relationship progressed, Su Zijin’s unique charm and inner brilliance also attracted the attention and admiration of Jiang Duo’s friends, adding new twists and challenges to their romance. So this was… a romance novel? Shen Ci had not even finished reading when she once again lost consciousness. When she opened her eyes again, she thought she had arrived at the Yellow Springs. But the Yellow Springs surely could not be like this. Mist filled the air, warmth enveloped her, and a faint scent of sulfur lingered around her. Shen Ci was immersed in warm water, with unknown flower petals floating across the surface, their crimson color as vivid as blood. This was… a hot spring? She moved her fingers, but what they touched was not the water. The sensation was firm and warm, so unfamiliar that her heart trembled. Shen Ci slowly raised her head. Through the swirling steam, she saw someone sitting across from her in the hot spring pool. It was a man. An extraordinarily handsome young man. He had his eyes closed, seemingly lost in thought. His brows were deep and defined, his nose high and sharply sculpted, and his thin lips pressed into a cold, emotionless line. Droplets of water slid down his collarbone and disappeared beneath the surface. He wore only a thin white garment—or rather, it was not a traditional inner robe at all. It was a style Shen Ci had never seen in her twenty years of life. The garment only reached his waist, exposing his firm abdomen and long, muscular legs. Shen Ci’s breathing stopped. She had barely managed to survive all these years and had never witnessed such a scene. Even the romance novels the maids had secretly brought her would never have dared depict something so vivid and intimate. The man’s chest was faintly visible through the steam, his well-defined muscles unlike those of any man she had ever seen. There were no wide sleeves or flowing robes to conceal him, no restraints of etiquette or propriety. He simply sat there, openly and calmly exposed, like a jade statue meant to be admired. But what frightened Shen Ci even more was— Her hand was resting on the man’s thigh. More precisely, it was the hand of the original owner of this body. Her slender, fair fingers rested against the inner side of the man’s firm thigh in an almost flirtatious manner, her fingertips even brushing against him ever so slightly. Shen Ci’s mind exploded. She immediately snatched her hand back, but the sudden movement caused her to lose her balance. The pebbles at the bottom of the hot spring were extremely slippery. She fell backward, sending water splashing everywhere as she awkwardly tumbled into the pool. Splash! She swallowed a mouthful of hot spring water and struggled back to the surface, coughing violently. Once she managed to stand steadily in the water, she wiped the water from her face and nervously raised her eyes. At some point, the man across from her had opened his eyes. He was looking directly at her. His eyes were impossibly deep, as though they had been steeped in ink or frozen in ice. Not the slightest trace of emotion could be seen in them.