Volume One Chapter One Awakening from a Dream

When I was very young, my mother told me that beneath the surface, the human heart is the hardest thing to fathom.

Yet I stubbornly believed Xie Xun would be the exception.

Each time I chased after him, I would think—how wonderful it would be if I could marry him.

Dong... dong... dong...

The ancient bell of Jing’an Temple sounded at this very moment, breaking through the darkness and echoing through the vast, empty Buddha hall where only the two of us were present. In the resonance of the bell, the steady rhythm of marching footsteps from outside could be heard.

In the end, it has all come to this...

“Amitabha. Benefactress, your attachment runs too deep.”

Master Liao Kong, seated cross-legged on his mat, pressed his palms together. His eyes, having seen through all worldly matters, were as clear as spring water, yet even they could not wash away the desolation in the eyes of the woman before him.

Beneath the compassionate gaze of the Buddha statue, a woman in plain white robes knelt before the incense table, murmuring numbly to an unmarked memorial tablet. The incense in the burner sent up a faint, acrid fragrance, and the paper money burning below flickered with the autumn wind.

“You are a god of deliverance, so why can you not save me, Shen Rong... save the Shen family... Why...”

“Buddhism teaches of karma and retribution. Those who stop at nothing for power deserve what comes to them... do they not...?”

Before she could finish, a woman in splendid attire emerged from the darkness outside the open hall. Her layered skirts spread over the plain white dress of the kneeling woman, and she laughed coldly from above. “Ah Rong, I’ve found you.”

“Amitabha...” Master Liao Kong closed his eyes.

And beneath the dim glow of palace lanterns, the shadow of a man in the corridor stretched silently to the threshold as all of Jing’an Temple was surrounded, impenetrable as an iron wall.

A once-pure land, now tainted by the desires of the mortal world...

As a child, she always knew her family was wealthy—stores of rice and cloth piled as high as mountains. Her parents never restricted her, often taking her to roam wild in the countryside. Unlike most girls of the Great Zhao, she never read the women’s classics or learned the needle arts.

When she was five, her mother died of illness, and her father raised her alone. As his business grew, fearing she would be neglected, he brought her along on his travels, shaping in her a fearless spirit.

At fifteen, Xie Xun, the legitimate scion of the Xie family from Jincheng, came to Huaiyang City to study—eighteen years old, elegant as jade.

With just one look, she lost her heart.

Because her mother was from the Xie family, Xie Xun was technically her cousin, and so he naturally took up residence with the Shen family.

Everyone in Huaiyang City knew that the Shen family’s only daughter would one day marry a man into the family. The noble ladies mocked her as a nouveau riche, dreaming above her station—no one expected Xie Xun to agree.

From that point on, she became his shadow. But it was also the beginning of the Shen family’s disaster.

In the twenty-first year of Great Zhao—when she was sixteen—the Shen family was suddenly accused of smuggling official salt, and her father was thrown in jail.

She sought help from Xie Xun, but he vanished as if into thin air.

She went to the Xie family estate, kneeling before its grand gates for three days and nights, but the doors never opened. In the end, she left, offering herself to the city’s military commander, choosing the fastest way out.

But how could a young merchant girl, lost and desperate, see through the brewing storm within the Great Zhao? All her efforts were doomed to fail.

In the twenty-second year, Prince Shou raised an army in rebellion, seizing Huainan; rebels on all sides waited for their chance, and war was imminent. The Shen family, grown rich on grain and cloth, with shops throughout Huainan and wealth rivaling the nation’s richest, became the prize every faction sought after.

Even using beauty as a lure was not beneath them...

Another year passed, and the heir of the Southern Ming Prince arrived in Huaiyang, swiftly taking control of the Shen family fortune. The Shen family estate became the residence of the Southern Ming Prince. The military commander, seeking powerful allies, handed her over to the prince’s heir.

It was then she learned that the high and mighty prince’s heir was none other than the so-called scion of a fallen house—Xie Xun!

By the twenty-fourth year, Prince Shou brazenly claimed the throne. She, as insignificant as dust, finally realized that all of this was just a game played by those in power for their own gain.

Once the Shen family was wrung dry and no longer useful, no matter how she struggled, the news of her father’s death still found her. It was as if her soul had been drained.

At nineteen, she lost her father...

Only then, faced with overwhelming power, did Shen Rong realize how small and helpless she truly was.

Soon, the storm swept through all of Great Zhao.

The mighty Prince Huai’an besieged Huaiyang City, the Southern Ming Prince’s heir vanished, and she sat alone in the cold Buddha hall, kneeling again and again before the altar, praying for her father’s soul to reach paradise.

Now, her cousin Shen Yu, together with A Jiu—the former Shen family stable boy, now Prince Huai’an—stood outside the temple, demanding she hand over a rumored treasure map.

The clouds had quietly dispersed, and the boundless autumn moonlight poured into the dim hall, cloaking her in a hazy glow, as if she might vanish at any moment.

“Ah Rong, if you hand over the map, I’ll beg A Jiu to spare your life. You know that, besides you, I’m the only Shen left because he sheltered me. I once saved his life, so he’ll listen to me.” Shen Yu spoke with certainty.

Shen Rong blinked, the corners of her lips curving in a bitter, world-weary smile.

Who would have thought that the former stable boy “A Jiu” would become Prince Huai’an, return with an army in the name of cleansing the court, and take control of the Southern Ming Prince’s estate?

Shen Rong smiled faintly, some sadness in her eyes. “The treasure map...”

She calmly set down the paper money, covered the incense burner, and took out a large brocade box from the altar. She opened it to reveal a neatly folded piece of parchment.

Shen Yu’s face lit up with joy. Without caring for her dignity, she snatched it away.

The moonlight at the door dimmed as Prince Huai’an stepped inside. His expression was hidden in the shadows.

Shen Yu’s excitement faded as she unfurled the parchment and her face twisted with rage, her eyes flashing viciously at Shen Rong. “You... you’re toying with me!”

Prince Huai’an took the parchment from Shen Yu’s trembling hands, and when he saw its contents, his eyes darkened.

It was a letter written in blood, every word calling “Rong Rong.” It was a final message from Shen Zheng, the Shen patriarch, to his daughter—not a treasure map at all!

Shen Yu shrieked, “Serves you right! Your mother’s dead, your father’s gone, you’re about to die, and even Xie Xun abandoned you. Who are you trying to impress with that calm facade?”

“Besides money, what do you have over me? Just a stinking nouveau riche—I’ve always wanted to crush you. Do you know what I hated most? The way you drew everyone’s attention wherever you went!”

“Now, even your only advantage is gone, and you’ve lost your father too. Ha! Shen Rong, you’re just wasting air by living!”

“You should thank me... Second Uncle’s quick release was all my doing. As a Shen woman, I took the blame for him. You should have seen him at the end—just skin and bones, calling your name again and again.”

Looking at the utterly changed Shen Yu, Shen Rong finally saw her cousin’s true face: hypocritical, selfish...

Shen Rong reached into the brocade box, and in that moment, numbness swept through her. She understood, at last: those who hurt you the most are always the ones closest to you.

“Do you know why you’re still alive? Because your dying father said there was a treasure map with you.”

Shen Rong’s fingers trembled as she stared in disbelief at the ever more triumphant Shen Yu. “Father... he...”

Her heart clenched painfully. Shen Rong’s eyes reddened, but no tears would come.

Even in death, her father had tried everything to keep her safe...

Her mother was gone, her father followed, and the Shen family estate had become the empty halls of the Southern Ming Prince. All her struggles, all her clinging to life dissolved with her father’s passing.

There was nothing left in this filthy world worth her longing.

She...

She would disappoint her father’s hopes for her, after all.

Looking at her cousin’s hateful face, Shen Rong thought—wasn’t all her poise and grandeur built on the wealth of the Shen family? In the end, she had betrayed her own kin for survival, and now she demanded answers with every breath.

“Cousin, have you ever heard the story of the lips and the teeth—when the lips are gone, the teeth grow cold?”

Without her, without the protection of the Shen family, what was Shen Yu? Just a grain of sand, soon to be crushed and swept away—how could she possibly have the power to stand here and gloat?

Shen Rong smiled enigmatically, glanced at Prince Huai’an, and leaned in close to Shen Yu. “The truth about how you saved that stable boy all those years ago...”

“Shen Rong, shut your mouth!” Shen Yu panicked, glancing instinctively at the man in the doorway.

Shen Rong’s voice was feverish. “Jing’an Temple, winter, a woman in yellow, a red birthmark on her chest.”

At her words, the man who had been so calm suddenly looked up, his dark eyes staring at Shen Rong—now bleeding from the mouth—with unveiled shock.

Shen Yu, terrified, tried to cover Shen Rong’s mouth, but in her frenzy, she shoved her into the sharp corner of the altar.

Having swallowed poison, Shen Rong’s body went limp. As she collapsed, she saw the man’s pupils contract rapidly as he lunged toward her.

Shen Rong died with a smile, glaring at Shen Yu. Even in death, she would drag down the last survivor of the Shen family with her!

A family should remain together, after all...

But as darkness closed in, she heard once more the old monk’s endless chanting—

Amitabha... may all beings be blessed with infinite light, infinite fortune, infinite life...