Leaving work, Fang Jing greeted the store manager, hurriedly scanned a shared bicycle, and rode to the supermarket. While making milk tea that afternoon, the red string she had worn around her wrist since childhood had accidentally caught on the machine and snapped. The director of the orphanage had repeatedly warned her never to take the red string off, and now Fang Jing just wanted to rush to the supermarket to buy a new thread and tie it back on.
Suddenly, a loud ringing echoed in her mind. For a moment, she felt dizzy, struggled to breathe, and fell straight toward the green belt. The shrub branches scratched Fang Jing's skin, and she could feel blood flowing. Amid the buzzing in her head, she seemed to hear someone calling out. Fang Jing thought to herself: *It must just be low blood sugar. I can't die, I want to live.*
The suffocating, agonizing sensation enveloped Fang Jing continuously. She did not know how much time had passed, but when she woke up, the first thing that met her eyes was a wooden bed canopy, draped with blue bed curtains. Fang Jing took two deep breaths to calm herself down.
She climbed out of bed and discovered that, aside from the bed, the room contained only a wooden dressing table, a set of wooden tables and chairs, and a few chests piled in the corner. The multi-tiered artifact shelf had completely empty compartments, and the entire room looked somewhat desolate.
Turning her head, she saw in the mirror on the dressing table a girl wearing ancient attire, whose appearance resembled hers by thirty or forty percent. Fang Jing was so startled that she slowly turned her head back, only to find behind her not a single soul. It was only with a delayed realization that Fang Jing understood the person in the mirror was actually herself!
Terrified, Fang Jing examined her reflection closely. Her face looked two or three years younger than her original self, her skin was fair and firm, and a circle of wounds was bandaged on her forehead.
Fang Jing lowered her head to inspect these hands, which were as white as jade; the fingers were slender, and the palms were soft and tender with no calluses. She must be dreaming, she thought—she was even dreaming of becoming a young lady from ancient times.
Noticing a water kettle on a nearby table, and feeling somewhat thirsty, Fang Jing stepped forward intending to pour herself a drink, but as soon as she lifted her foot, she tripped over her skirt. *So painful,* Fang Jing rubbed her wrist and arms, and after scrambling back up, she realized she was wearing a long skirt that almost reached the ground.
"What is going on? How can it hurt in a dream?" Fang Jing muttered a complaint, wondering inwardly if she had somehow time-traveled.
Before Fang Jing could digest this news, chaotic footsteps sounded from outside the door, which was soon pushed open. A woman followed by several maidservants stormed in furiously: "You little bitch, how dare you injure my son!" With that, she raised her hand, gesturing as if to slap Fang Jing across the face. Fang Jing did not quite understand what the woman meant and stood there in a daze. However, the slap ultimately never landed on Fang Jing.
Suddenly, a woman's voice rang out from outside the door: "Madam, the young miss is still unconscious; it would be best not to go in. Once the young miss wakes up, this maid will go and inform Madam."
A maidservant behind the woman heard this and cried out in a low, panicked voice: "Madam, no!"
The woman also heard the voice outside, and the motion of her raised hand froze in mid-air. The head maidservant stepped forward, gently supporting the woman's arm to lower it, and said, "Madam, the Soul-Guiding Bell on the young miss has rung for the first time in so many years. The commotion is neither too big nor too small; because of the relations with the paternal aunt and uncle, some elders in the clan will surely send people over to inquire. If they see that the young miss has injuries on her face, Madam, it will be hard for you to justify this!"
After a moment of thought, the woman decided it made some sense, so she sneered at Fang Jing, glared fiercely at Fang Jing's neck, and turned to leave with her maidservants.
Shortly after, a maid-dressed servant entered, looking seemingly surprised upon seeing the woman, and bowed. "Greetings, Madam."
Without sparing the maid a direct glance, the woman replied, "Hmm, who was just here?"
The maid lowered her head and answered, "It was an attendant from the Third Elder's side, here to check on the young miss."
Upon hearing this, the woman grunted without further reaction and walked away directly, followed by her retinue of maids.
Fang Jing was somewhat speechless at the farce that had just played out, but she also gathered some information from their words. She was a young lady of this place, perhaps related to the paternal aunt and uncle of this family, and the Soul-Guiding Bell had rung not long ago. Lowering her head, Fang Jing looked at the bell attached to the collar hanging around her neck—could this be the Soul-Guiding Bell? She shook it twice with her hand, but it didn't make a sound.
The maid who had entered stood behind the door, watching the woman depart before immediately closing it. She helped Fang Jing back to the bed: "Young miss, are you alright? You just suffered an injury and shouldn't catch a chill; quickly lie down in bed, and this maid will go get you something to eat."
Seeing that the maid had completely dropped the hesitant demeanor she had shown earlier toward Madam, and connecting it to the silhouette she had seen cast outside the door, Fang Jing deduced that no attendant from the Third Elder had ever come here at all.
Following the maid's guidance, Fang Jing lay back down in bed and tried hard to think. Before coming here, she seemed to have heard a burst of ringing bells—could her arrival here be connected to this Soul-Guiding Bell? Lying there, Fang Jing gradually drifted into a hazy sleep. In her dream, she saw scenes she had never witnessed before, resembling ancient architecture.
"Young miss, young miss." Feeling someone gently shaking her, Fang Jing awoke from her dream and saw a woman half-bowed over her bedside. "Young miss, time to get up and eat." The woman's face seemed to have appeared in that hazy dream as well; looking closer, wasn't this the very maid who had helped her earlier?
Following the woman to the table, the maid opened a food box containing two dishes, a bowl of soup, and a bowl of rice. She arranged the food neatly on the table, picked up the rice bowl, and began coaxing Fang Jing to eat. Fang Jing felt somewhat at a loss; to avoid stirring up trouble, she obediently complied with the woman's words, opening her mouth to wait for the maid to feed her. *The young miss she was portraying couldn't possibly be a fool, could she?* Fang Jing thought as she watched all this.
After clearing away the table, the maid departed, leaving Fang Jing alone in the room. Fang Jing tried to recall the original memories of this body. She thought all the way until evening when the maid returned with more food, and at last, she understood that the original owner of this body truly was a simpleton. The memories of this body consisted almost entirely of playing in the mud, being fed by maids, and being bullied by a few children.
Meanwhile, in an ornate room, the woman who had earlier come aggressively to find Fang Jing was seated before a dressing table while her head maid combed her hair. The woman said, "Today you stopped me from beating that little bitch, but the moment I saw how severe the injuries on my son were, I simply couldn't swallow this anger."
The maid removed the pearl hairpins from the woman's head one by one, placing them orderly into a vanity box, and said, "Madam, do not be angry. Although you cannot strike her yourself, children playing and roughhousing resulting in some injuries is surely nothing to mind. Once the young master's wounds heal, Madam, there will be plenty of ways to vent your anger."
To avoid exposing herself, Fang Jing had been playing the fool for the past few days. Fortunately, she had grown up in an orphanage, where there were also abandoned, intellectually disabled children, so her acting looked quite convincing.
Over the past few days, people had visited her one after another, seemingly all because of the Soul-Guiding Bell. But upon seeing that she was still foolish, they would sigh and leave. Lying in bed at night and looking up at the ceiling, Fang Jing realized she couldn't keep pretending to be a fool indefinitely. This family did not look short of money, but judging by the woman's reaction on the first day, the empty state of her own room, and the fact that only a single maid came by each day, it was clear the original owner was likely not favored here, and this place might not necessarily support her for a lifetime.
Judging by the reactions of those who visited her over the past few days, they probably believed the Soul-Guiding Bell could cure the bodily disability. Perhaps she could use this opportunity to gradually make herself appear like a normal person.
The next day, the maid brought the food box and came to wake her. The maid fetched some clothing, but this time, Fang Jing did not wait for the maid to dress her; she dressed herself, imitating what she had observed over the past few days. Although a bit clumsy, it looked all the more fitting for a little simpleton beginning to recover. During the meal, Fang Jing also feigned clumsiness in using her chopsticks, and the maid beside her watched all this with great excitement.
When someone came again to ask the maid about Fang Jing's condition—someone who had originally heard others' accounts and held no hope—they listened to the maid's words and began to think Fang Jing was indeed showing improvement. The maid brought the visitor to see Fang Jing, and the person inspected her closely, discovering that Fang Jing's gaze was no longer so vacant. The visitor then returned to report these circumstances to their master.
Believing that her young miss's intellectual affliction was improving, the maid thought of taking the young miss out of the room for a stroll, reasoning that it might be good for her health.
Fang Jing walked along with the maid, who chattered incessantly as they walked. From the maid, Fang Jing learned that her name was Qingyue, that her own name in this world was Jiang Yuejing, and that this world was a cultivation realm. The Qin Family she belonged to was one of the major cultivation families in this city.
Her mother was the daughter of the head of the Qin Family, and the Soul-Guiding Bell was something her parents had found to cure her congenital affliction, though it had never rung for many years.
The family head had been in secluded cultivation for many years, and the household was currently managed on his behalf by her maternal uncle. The woman who had tried to slap Fang Jing on the day of her initial arrival was her maternal aunt. Her parents seemed to have gone to a very distant place many years ago, and Qingyue, being a maid, did not know the exact reasons.
Fang Jing sighed inwardly that in both of her lives she lacked any affinity with parents, and she lowered her head with a trace of dejection. Suddenly, Qingyue pulled her to turn in another direction. "Where do you think you're going? Seeing this young master, where do you still think you can run?" A boy's voice sounded. Fang Jing looked up and saw that this boy was none other than the person from her memories who had bullied the original owner.
Fang Jing had no intention of fleeing anyway. Soon, the boy arrived right in front of them, one hand repeatedly shoving Fang Jing. "Well, well, the little simpleton dares to come out now? We haven't settled the account yet from the other day when you injured this young master!" Qingyue tried to block the boy, but was intercepted by the boy's lackeys. Fang Jing looked at the boy, knowing full well that this person simply bullied others by relying on his status. If you showed weakness, he would intensify his bullying, but if you acted fierce, they wouldn't dare touch you again. Fang Jing had seen plenty of such people in her past life.
Pushed back and forth by the boy and his lackeys, Fang Jing was cornered against a pillar. With her back against the pillar, she suddenly exerted force, grabbed the hair at the back of the opposite boy's head with her hand, and slammed him forcefully toward the pillar behind him. The boy was caught off guard and suffered a dull impact, followed by a cry of pain. The lackeys were dumbfounded by the scene and froze in place, only reacting to pull Fang Jing away after the boy had been struck three times.
Because these people had all begun cultivation and mostly possessed the strength of Qi Condensation, while Fang Jing was merely an ordinary person, she could only injure the boy by taking him by surprise. These people rescued the boy from her grasp. Feeling the blood on his head, the boy flew into a rage from embarrassment: "Jiang Yuejing, I won't let you get away with this!" Fang Jing understood this was merely all bark and bite.
To everyone's surprise, the boy's mother—the very woman who had wanted to slap her that day—was also nearby. Hearing her son's cry for help, she immediately flew over, hurling an attack at Fang Jing without a second word. Unexpectedly, a woman behind her used spellcraft to block that attack, but Fang Jing was still struck by the aftershock, stumbling back several steps before slamming into the wall with a loud thud. Fang Jing rubbed her back—it hurt so much.
The woman glared fiercely and said, "Qin Ling, what are you doing! Didn't you see that little bitch bullying your younger brother?"
The woman addressed as Qin Ling replied, "Mother, she is not a bitch; she is Aunt's daughter. Furthermore, little brother started the bullying, which is why Yuejing fought back. Yuejing is merely an ordinary person; that strike of yours could have practically cost her her life."
The woman retorted, "That is your own younger brother, and yet you protect an outsider!" She wanted to fly into a rage, but remembering that major sects would be recruiting new disciples in a few days and her younger son still needed this girl's help, she forcefully reined herself in. Instead, she merely repeated, "Fine, fine, fine," cast a cold glare, and left with her younger son.
Fang Jing saw a fairy-like maiden dressed in pale pink robes, emitting a faint fragrance, extend a hand toward her. Fang Jing thought of a rose bush in the orphanage where she grew up—beautiful and gently fragrant, silently accompanying the elderly and children of the orphanage, bringing them comfort of body and mind.