Author's Note: Important Announcement—Please Read.
This story is set in a fictional world *3, I repeat, a fictional world. If you come across any historical elements that seem familiar, please refrain from drawing direct parallels, as I cannot guarantee what might unfold later. The reason for choosing a fictional setting is to avoid conflicts with history enthusiasts. That said, the background is merely a framework and has little bearing on the main plot.
Due to past unpleasant experiences, I want to clarify upfront—just as a mystery novel would never reveal the killer beforehand, my story will not announce who the male lead is in advance. If you cannot accept this or fear backing the wrong character, please reconsider reading. However, in the truest sense, the protagonist of this story is the female lead; all other characters merely appear in her comedic journey through life.
The story has a happy ending (HE).
The pacing is slow, so feel free to let it simmer before diving in.
This was a single-story building constructed of mud bricks, shaped like the character "一" (one). It was evenly divided into three sections horizontally, with the central area serving as both a hall and a dining space when crowded. The two ends were living quarters, and Yu Cailing resided in the eastern chamber. The room was simple, with walls plastered in yellow mud, polished clean and smooth. A large square fire pit, seemingly made of clay, occupied the floor—its design rustic but effective in providing warmth. Then, despite Yu Cailing’s usual composure, she nearly fainted from shock—
There were no beds, chairs, or stools in the room. Instead, against the inner wall, a flat wooden platform was built from lacquered wood, rising like steps and covering a third of the floor space. A layer of bedding served as the bed, with a few small round cotton cushions acting as seats. A tiny square table was used for meals and drinks. Having seen a few of Akira Kurosawa’s old films, Yu Cailing thought it resembled the sparse interiors of ancient Japanese homes.
When she first woke up ten days ago, aside from the splitting headache, this realization had terrified her so much she nearly passed out again, wishing she could die once more. In truth, her hometown was a remote Jiangnan village nestled in a mountain hollow, where dialects varied every hundred miles and customs differed every thousand. She had only ever seen two Japanese soldiers who had painstakingly trekked through the mountains to reach them. It wasn’t until young men who worked in the cities returned home and spoke of them that she learned such figures were called "devils." The village chief had roused the villagers with a fiery speech, urging them to lace any gifts of sweet potatoes, dried radishes, or yams with rat poison if they ever encountered them again. Unfortunately, no more "devils" came, and the rat poison went unused.
It wasn’t until after the founding of the nation, when the government blasted through mountains, built roads and bridges, and dug tunnels, that her hometown gradually became the only small town among the surrounding mountain villages.
"Young Lady, it’s time for your medicine," a middle-aged woman said as she entered the room carrying a rough wooden tray. She turned to the little girl holding up the thick cotton curtain and added, "A Mei, lower the curtain. It’s cold outside."
Yu Cailing quickly snapped back to attention and sat properly (or rather, knelt properly). The woman placed the tray on the small table, which held two ceramic bowls—one large, containing steaming herbal medicine, and the other small, holding three pieces of candied fruit. Yu Cailing lifted the large bowl and drank the medicine in silence. The bitterness flooded her mouth, worse than pesticide—though, admittedly, she had never actually tasted pesticide.Then she picked up a candied preserved fruit and slowly sucked on it while observing the woman kneeling opposite her. The woman had asked Yu Cailing to address her simply as Zhu. Yu Cailing wasn't accustomed to calling people by single characters—it reminded her of the coquettish way the owner of the town's multi-functional hair salon would call her numerous lovers—but she dared not address her improperly without knowing local customs. Just two days prior, she'd heard from A Mei about a neighboring child who had nightmares and babbled nonsense, only to be force-fed a pot of talisman soup by a shaman that nearly cost half his life. Thus, she could only mumble vaguely in response. It wasn't until later that she learned it was indeed appropriate to call the woman Zhu.
The woman, Zhu, had a square face and a sturdy build, her expression solemn. She wore a grayish-white linen short jacket over a long gown, with trousers visible below the knees—likely for ease of movement. In contrast, Yu Cailing's attire, though also devoid of any silk, consisted of a thick cotton long gown that wrapped around her waist and reached her feet. The ten-year-old girl A Mei, beside them, was dressed even more simply in a cotton short coat, her thick patterned cotton trousers exposed as she ran around the courtyard.
About ten days earlier, Yu Cailing had lain half-conscious on a mattress, her eyelids heavy as lead. She'd heard a sharp female voice berating someone: "...You useless fool! Our female lord entrusted you with this task, and you've neglected it to this extent. If anything truly happens to the young lady, feeding your entire family to the dogs wouldn't be enough!" Then a timid voice replied, "Back then, you told me to ignore her, to let her shout and smash things—that she was here being punished for her mistakes and needed to be broken in first. Who knew she'd catch a fever..." The sharp voice snapped, "Nonsense! No matter her faults, she's still the master's young lady. How dare you neglect her!"
...Yu Cailing drifted in and out of consciousness, vaguely aware of someone feeding her medicine. At the time, her will to survive was strong, so she forced herself to swallow. In her haze, she heard the sharp voice say with a laugh, "...I won't lie to you—this is a hot potato. Can't go too easy, can't go too hard. Now that she's this sick, no one wants to take responsibility. Yet here you are, begging me for days..."
Then came the gentle but slow voice of the woman Zhu, who replied with a smile, "If the young lady hadn't fallen so ill, this good assignment wouldn't have come to me. I only hope the master remembers my service, so my A Mei and A Liang might have a future." There was a clinking sound, likely coins, and the sharp voice said with satisfaction, "Fine. Since you've taken on this task, do it well." Then she left.
Even with her mind feverish, Yu Cailing—who had nearly aced logic—could deduce that this body likely belonged to a young noblewoman from some ancient aristocratic family, currently serving a punishment in the countryside. The previous caretaker had been negligent, leading the girl to fall ill with a high fever and die, thus allowing her to take over.
When she first saw the woman Zhu, Yu Cailing—with her shallow knowledge of ancient history—had desperately hoped she'd be wearing the banner dresses of the Qing dynasty or the chest-baring Tang attire. She wouldn't have minded marrying a half-shaved husband or freezing her décolletage in winter! Unfortunately, she had no idea which era this long gown belonged to. Yu Cailing moped for three days until the fourth, when she recovered enough to follow A Mei to watch a bride's wedding procession. Suddenly, her spirits lifted—though at the time, A Mei had no idea why the usually gloomy young lady had inexplicably brightened.The woman Zhu was also observing Yu Cailing. To ensure her recovery, the physician had prescribed a potent dose, and even she would have winced at such bitter medicine. Yet, apart from the first time when the young lady spat it out, she had since downed every dose in one go without a single complaint, her clenched jaw and pursed lips revealing a stubborn resilience. Zhu considered herself a woman of few words, but this little Female Lord was even more taciturn, often spending entire days in gloomy silence, speaking only a few extra words to A Mei—how unlike the descriptions from outside, Zhu thought with some puzzlement.
After drinking the medicinal broth, the round-faced A Mei nestled close to Yu Cailing and coaxed, "Young Lady, it's warm outside today. Let's go play." Yu Cailing, tired of kneeling, nodded in agreement. The woman Zhu smiled and said, "Some sunshine would do you good. But the guards aren’t here today, so don’t wander too far. Take A Liang with you."
Yu Cailing gave Zhu a curious glance. The woman was usually so reticent, yet today she not only spoke more but even allowed her to go out without an adult male escort.
A Mei stuck her tongue out at her mother and quickly helped Yu Cailing into her upturned thick-soled cotton shoes, then wrapped her in a heavy cloak. The two girls happily held hands and skipped outside.
Once outdoors, Yu Cailing took a deep breath. The crisp, icy air filled her lungs, dispelling the stifling warmth from the charcoal inside. Looking up at the northern countryside sky, she realized the "blue skies and white clouds" from her childhood textbooks weren’t just empty words. The vast, high dome above was as clear and refreshing as chilled ice water, filling her with exhilaration.
Turning back to look at the small courtyard, she saw a wide fence encircling the house at a distance. Though a humble country dwelling, its roof was tall and imposing, and the three rooms inside were spacious and lofty, devoid of any cramped or oppressive feeling—such grand, open architecture bore no resemblance to the style of Japan.
Yu Cailing nodded in satisfaction. Holding little A Mei’s hand and leading a bouncing seven- or eight-year-old boy, she was about to leave the yard when two riders in short attire came galloping from afar, kicking up snow and dust. Sharp-eyed A Mei suddenly cried, "It’s Father... and Elder Brother!" She then waved her arms and shouted at the top of her lungs, "Father! Elder Brother!"
The two riders reined in their horses deftly at the gate and dismounted. The middle-aged man at the front immediately clasped his fists and bowed to Yu Cailing with a smile, saying, "Young Lady." The young rider behind him, about seventeen or eighteen, followed suit.
Yu Cailing nodded slightly and smiled up at them. "Fu Yi, you’re back." The bearded man lifted his head and replied cheerfully, "Young Lady, are you heading out to play? I just saw the Water Shrine ahead holding a ceremony for the Stream Deity. It might be fun to watch." Turning to his son, he added, "Deng, don’t go inside yet. Go with them." The young man murmured, "Yes," then handed his reins to his father and followed Yu Cailing’s group as they crunched through the thin snow outside.
This Fu Yi was the husband of the woman Zhu. Originally, there had been two other guards, and Yu Cailing had heard them call Fu Yi "Leader Fu," so she had followed suit. To her surprise, Fu Yi had been extremely uneasy and adamantly refused the title. The first time she met him, seeing his intimate behavior with Zhu, she had assumed he was her lover and had been quite intrigued—only to later learn he was her lawful spouse.Exiting the courtyard and walking westward for about ten minutes, the sound of babbling streams and bustling voices reached their ears. A small creek about ten meters wide came into view, its waters so clear one could see the bottom. The shallows were no more than half a meter deep, while the deeper parts reached only three or four meters. Though merely a small stream, it was rich in resources, teeming with fish and shrimp year-round, greatly supplementing the livelihoods of the villagers. Thus, not far upstream on the bank, the village elders had led the locals in building a small shrine dedicated to the deities of the surrounding mountains, forests, and waters, hoping for divine protection and an abundance of fish, shrimp, fruits, and vegetables.
As soon as the Water Shrine came into sight, A Mei eagerly pulled Yu Cailing toward it. She took out two Wu Zhu Coins to buy a bamboo tube of homemade incense from the elderly shaman at the entrance, then purchased some fruits Yu Cailing couldn’t name from a basket-carrying vendor girl. The girl, noticing Fu Deng’s handsome appearance, playfully tossed him an orange, grinning mischievously. Fu Deng’s face instantly turned redder than the fruit. A Mei laughed, “My brother is almost betrothed!” Yu Cailing teased, “If you like him, why still charge us for the fruit?” The girl replied cheerfully, “He may be handsome, but my family still needs to eat.” The villagers, along with Yu Cailing and her companions, burst into laughter.
The so-called shrine was essentially a large house with two halls stacked front and back. The villagers had seen Yu Cailing’s group several times before and knew she was the Young Lady of a wealthy household nearby, so they readily made way for them to enter. The front hall was thick with incense smoke, where several grotesque and ferocious-looking idols stood on a high platform—neither resembling Guanyin nor Jesus. At the feet of the stone statues were splashes of blood, and nearby, a large wooden basin held three or five chickens and ducks, their legs still twitching in death. Yu Cailing shook her head for the Nth time. In this era, idols were crafted so terrifyingly, and worship methods so primitive and crude—how could devotees lose themselves in reverent devotion and willingly offer money and emotions? She longed to teach these Community Shamans to carve a few benevolent-faced idols, decorate the place with flowers and goldfish, and add some chanting and scripture-reciting performances to ensure booming business and overflowing wealth.
But this was clearly just her own opinion. The surrounding crowd of women, children, and elders seemed perfectly content, kneeling or standing solemnly with hands clasped, murmuring prayers. A Mei quickly handed her a few sticks of incense and pulled her down onto a straw mat to kneel.
Yu Cailing sighed inwardly. The last time she had worshipped in her past life was when she went hiking with her three roommates. The four girls had devoutly bowed before the Taoist Trinity statues: Duanxinmei prayed to win another full scholarship that semester, Blog Sister wished for the handsome guy from the neighboring class to break up with his girlfriend and fall in love with her at first sight, QQ hoped to secure an internship at NZND Company ahead of schedule, while she herself begged for her 11th draft of the Party application to finally pass—her uncle had promised to buy her a laptop if she got in.
After repeated prayers, the four chanted “Amitabha” in unison and happily headed out to play, completely oblivious to the strange expression of an old woman kneeling nearby.Yu Cailing finished her prayers and inserted the incense sticks with a soft sigh. From this perspective, that worship session had been quite effective—she had died in her previous life while performing a heroic act. If she hadn’t died, wouldn’t she have been able to join the Party?! She wondered if her three roommates’ wishes had come true. Deeply resentful of her bad luck—even a cooked duck could fly away—she sternly refused A Mei’s suggestion to enter the inner hall to listen to the shaman’s interpretation of the latest prophetic charts.
The last time she saw that shaman, he had tried to trick her into performing a ritual to ward off evil spirits. He had probably heard that Yu Cailing was a young lady from a wealthy family who had been cast out by her elders. Pah! Did he take her for a fool? Even if she had money, she’d rather follow the example of her cold-hearted nouveau riche father and spend it on rescuing fallen women than waste it on charlatans. At least rescuing fallen women could contribute to a harmonious society.
“Everyone says that shaman inside is very effective,” A Mei said, tugging at Yu Cailing’s sleeve. Yu Cailing kept a straight face. “If he were really that good, wouldn’t the nobles and officials have already hired him? Why would he still be in this small place?” In truth, after her cold-hearted father’s business expanded, he too began believing in these mystical things. But the key was to find someone with real skill—otherwise, it’d be like sticking incense in the wrong burner and praying to the wrong god.
“That’s hard to say,” A Mei said knowledgeably. “Mother told us that the Yan Divine Immortal, who once read the Emperor’s face, refused to take office and now lives in seclusion in the countryside, spending his days fishing in a fur coat.”
Fu Deng disagreed. “That Yan Divine Immortal was originally a master of classical studies. Decades ago, his scholarship was already first-rate. Reading faces and interpreting prophecies were just pastimes for him—he wasn’t a professional shaman.”
A Mei had no choice but to reluctantly agree to go play by the stream. Little A Liang was delighted, so Yu Cailing took the siblings by the hand and left the temple, heading toward the water.
As expected, the stream was crowded with children and teenagers, laughing and playing boisterously. The customs here were simple—children’s games consisted of skipping flat stones across the water, enduring the bone-chilling cold to catch a few dull little crabs or shrimp, or at most, splashing around in homemade high wooden clogs. Watching A Mei and A Liang play by the bank, Yu Cailing took a few steps back and scanned the area. Spotting a large, sun-warmed boulder, she sat down. Fu Deng quietly followed and stood beside her without a word.
Yu Cailing glanced at him. Zhu was a reserved person who never spoke unless absolutely necessary. Among her three children, only Fu Deng seemed to take after her—which meant getting information about herself would be unusually difficult. A Mei and A Liang were too young and often answered irrelevantly, while those who knew more were tight-lipped. Asking too much might alert their mother, Zhu.
This was a deeply superstitious society. Yu Cailing had realized that within just a few days of arriving.
After she recovered from her illness, Zhu had invited two shamans to sing and dance as offerings to the gods. When building a new kitchen in the courtyard, Zhu slaughtered a lamb and presented several plates of fruit to the Kitchen God. Even when heavy snow fell a few days ago, Zhu solemnly offered two jars of winter wine—whether to pray for the snow to stop or to continue, she didn’t know. Yesterday, when the sun shone and the snow began to melt, making it easier to gather mushrooms and wild greens, Zhu happily killed a pair of live chickens and ducks. Though Yu Cailing had yet to witness any human sacrifices, she didn’t dare ask too many questions. The most pitiful thing was that she still didn’t even know the name of the body she now inhabited.Ahead, A Mei's loud laughter and shouts could be heard. It seemed a boy had bullied A Liang, so A Mei picked up a piece of unmelted ice from the grass and stuffed it down the boy's collar to avenge her younger brother. The boy jumped and yelped like a shrimp, while the other children roared with laughter.
Yu Cailing also smiled. In truth, she was deeply grateful to Zhu and her family.
Though she had been in a daze over ten days ago, she could still sense the poor conditions around her—hard wooden planks with thin cotton padding beneath her, a damp and chilly room, and an unpleasant odor lingering in the air. But after Zhu arrived, everything changed. Her clothes and bedding were replaced with thick, warm, high-quality materials. Zhu even managed to gather some village women to laboriously move in a large fire pit for heating, warming the entire room thoroughly. After multiple cleanings, Zhu meticulously fumigated every inch of the spacious room with burning mugwort, carefully inspecting it to ensure no tiny insects or ants remained. She then built a stove, piled firewood, and cooked nourishing soups and roasted dishes daily to help Yu Cailing recover. Thanks to this, her condition improved day by day, while Zhu herself grew noticeably thinner from exhaustion.
Yet an illness that had already claimed one life wasn’t so easily overcome, especially in an era with such limited medical knowledge. Even today, despite her good mood, Yu Cailing still felt weak and short of breath at times, unable to walk quickly and only able to amble slowly. To lift her spirits, Zhu even found an ox-drawn cart and had two guards pull her and A Mei around the countryside for a leisurely outing.
Though Yu Cailing wasn’t entirely familiar with ancient customs, she knew that servants from wealthy households usually held higher status. Yet a woman as disciplined and meticulous as Zhu remained in the countryside—there was undoubtedly something unusual about this.
Since she was here, she might as well make the best of it. Survival came first; only then could one think about living well, and only after that could one afford to feel the loneliness and melancholy of being far from home. Yu Cailing’s nature was inherently pragmatic and self-interested, with sentimentality as rare as an endangered species. With her survival still uncertain, she had no time for idle sorrow or nostalgia.
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