Chapter 4: The Wretches, Do You Know Wen Wan Has Returned!

By the edge of the Naihe Bridge, atop the Looking-Back Terrace, Wen Wan’s face remained expressionless; all the events of her past life seemed nothing but a cruel joke.

Crossing the Naihe Bridge, the old woman known as Meng Po handed her a bowl of Meng Po’s soup. “Drink this…”

Wen Wan took it casually, ready to gulp it down at once, when suddenly a man in red dashed forward and knocked the bowl from her hands, spilling the soup.

The man in red glanced back at her without a trace of emotion; not even this unexpected incident caused him to pause.

Wen Wan let out a faint smile. “Please, old lady, may I have another bowl?”

Meng Po stared at her for a moment, lost in thought before saying, “Is it fate or karmic retribution… How about staying here to help this old woman grind herbs?”

Pain…

Wen Wan struggled to open her eyes. Slowly, she took in her surroundings. Beneath her lay a precious bed carved from golden silkwood, worth a fortune, yet the coarse hemp quilt covering her was so rough even servants refused to use it.

She tried to sit up with great effort. She had spent a hundred years by the Naihe Bridge grinding herbs for Meng Po, who had promised her one chance at reincarnation. But why wasn’t she in a delivery room?

At that moment, a young maid dressed in patched, coarse cloth entered carrying a basin of water. Seeing Wen Wan sitting on the bedside, her hand trembled, and she accidentally knocked the entire basin over.

“M-Mistress… you’re awake. You really are awake…”

The maid, forgetting the spilled basin, rushed toward Wen Wan. “Mistress, you’re truly awake, this is wonderful, wonderful! Blessings from madam, blessings from madam.”

Wen Wan frowned slightly and shifted her body slowly, still feeling a bit dizzy.

She had witnessed much and learned even more during her years by the Naihe Bridge.

Now, she was essentially a soul returned to a borrowed body.

“Bring me a mirror…” Since she was inhabiting another’s body, she needed to see what she looked like.

She paid little mind to what era she was in.

Having spent a century grinding herbs at the Naihe Bridge, she had mastered both poison and medicine: one hand weaving potent toxins from countless eras, the other wielding silver needles capable of curing the rarest poisons. No matter the time or place, she could thrive.

Though the young maid did not know why her mistress wanted a mirror, she obediently brought over a somewhat damaged bronze mirror.

Wen Wan smiled faintly. It seemed the original owner of this body did not live a particularly good life.

But when she finally looked at her reflection, her hand trembled involuntarily.

The maid quickly caught the mirror—it was the only object at the Falling Moon Pavilion that could reflect a true image. After the mistress had broken it before, they had been forced to rely on water reflections.

“Mistress…” the maid glanced cautiously at Wen Wan. Indeed, the mistress’s appearance was somewhat disfigured, but not enough to frighten herself.

Wen Wan’s breathing grew heavier. After a long moment, she suddenly grasped the maid’s arm, her eyes no longer calm but intense. “What time and place is this?”

Seeing the maid might not understand, Wen Wan rephrased, “What dynasty is this? Who is the emperor? Speak!”

The body she inhabited was far from beautiful; red rashes and bloodstains made the face somewhat terrifying. Yet Wen Wan, having seen countless evil spirits in hell, was not easily frightened.

The only reason for her agitation was one—she recognized this face.

She had seen it before.

Could it be that after returning to life, she was still in Dong Mo?

The maid winced in pain as Wen Wan squeezed her arm but dared not cry out. “Mistress, mistress, what’s wrong? This is Dong Mo! Has your head been struck silly by the Fifth Miss and the others?”