Chapter 001: Leaning on Foolishness, Selling Foolishness

In the lush, emerald jungle, three ethereal young women made their way through the undergrowth. Dappled sunlight filtered through the leaves, painting shifting patterns on their faces and rendering their skin all the more delicate and pale. Two of them possessed bold brows and bright eyes, graceful willow-like brows, rosy lips as small as cherries, and slender waists that swayed with every step, exuding endless charm.

The third, though, had eyes once clear as water, now shadowed with a hint of emptiness, their usual sparkle dimmed. Her face, small enough to fit in a palm, was exquisitely lovely and evoked a natural tenderness from the beholder. Her limpid eyes shimmered, her lips were softer than flower petals, and she held herself with quiet poise—her beauty, in fact, surpassed that of her companions.

Yet, a birthmark of vivid red marred her left temple, disrupting the delicate harmony of her features. More striking still, a strip of white gauze was tied across her forehead, stained with a blooming patch of fresh blood.

“Sister Xinya, do we really have to do this?” whispered one of the two leading girls, rubbing her arm nervously. This was a wild forest, after all, where fearsome spirit beasts roamed. If she and Sister Xinya were to encounter one, their odds of survival would plummet.

A flash of impatience crossed Ouyang Xinya’s eyes, but when she turned to look at Ouyang Xinwei, her face was pure warmth and understanding. “Did you forget, Xinwei? This ugly thing is still betrothed to Prince Xuan. I don’t wish her any harm—she’s our sister, after all. I just can’t bear to see you upset.”

“But Sister Xinya, Prince Xuan doesn’t even like her. The engagement will be broken sooner or later, so let’s just go back,” Xinwei faltered, her resolve wavering.

A trace of disdain flickered in Xinya’s eyes, though the frightened Xinwei failed to notice. “If you say so, let’s take her back. No one in the clan knows we came out here today. Even though the patriarch dotes on Ouyang Xinlai, I doubt he’d ever find out. As long as he doesn’t, we’re safe.”

Tears welled in Xinya’s eyes. “Even if the patriarch finds out, it doesn’t matter. If not for wanting to help you, I wouldn’t have brought Ouyang Xinlai out here. If anything happens, just blame it all on me.”

“Sister Xinya, don’t say that! You do so much for me—how could I be so heartless as to let you take the blame?” Xinwei suddenly steeled herself. “It’s all that wretch Ouyang Xinlai’s fault. She’s so ugly, and she hasn’t even awakened her spirit root. How could someone so useless and hideous ever deserve Prince Xuan? She’s just wasting the clan’s resources. We’re doing a good deed by letting her go—hopefully, she’ll have a better life in her next reincarnation.”

The one derided as a “wretch,” Ouyang Xinlai, let her gaze flicker, the emptiness in her eyes fading, replaced by a sudden, piercing clarity.

Though Ouyang Xinlai hadn’t spoken a word, she’d heard every bit of Xinya and Xinwei’s conversation. Inwardly, she cursed her luck—she’d truly drawn the short straw this time.

Three days prior, the original owner of this body had arranged to meet her fiancé, Prince Xuan, in the bamboo grove. But from the look of things, she’d clearly fallen into someone’s trap.

Though she’d been born less than beautiful and somewhat talentless, her greatest fault lay in her auspicious engagement. Prince Xuan was the most sought-after bachelor in the land, idolized by every eligible maiden. Naturally, she became the target of their envy and spite. As for Prince Xuan, with his sterling reputation, how could he ever fancy someone as plain as Ouyang Xinlai? Yet, their betrothal had been arranged before their births.

When they’d finally met, she’d slipped and, by chance, grabbed Prince Xuan’s sleeve. He’d shaken her off with evident disgust, as if she were something filthy. Frail and delicate, Ouyang Xinlai had been flung aside, her head striking a large stone. She died instantly, and so it was that the current soul entered this body.

The blow had been severe, and though the original soul perished, the aftereffects lingered. For three days, the body had been dazed, unable to think or function properly. Only just now had her mind cleared, the last traces of concussion fading away.

Ouyang Xinlai blinked imperceptibly, studying Xinya and Xinwei. From her memories, Xinwei had bullied her ceaselessly, always bringing up the engagement. Yet, curiously, every time Xinwei tormented her, Xinya was always present. Was this mere coincidence, or something more deliberate? Was Xinya’s image as a caring elder sister genuine or just a mask?

With a weary sigh, Ouyang Xinlai slumped to the ground. “I’m tired. I can’t walk anymore.” This was no pretense—three days of muddled consciousness had left her weak and starved, her limbs leaden.

“Come now, Xinlai, just a little farther,” Xinya coaxed in a gentle voice, trying to placate her as one would a child. “There’s a beautiful flower just ahead—if you pick it and give it to Prince Xuan, he’ll surely like you.”

“Why treat her so well, Sister Xinya? If she won’t walk, just beat her! See if she’ll move then,” Xinwei snapped, impatient to be rid of Xinlai so she could return home. She wanted nothing more than to leave this dangerous forest behind.

Xinya smiled lightly at Xinwei. “I’m not being kind to her, or I wouldn’t have brought her here today,” she replied coldly in her heart. She wanted Xinlai dead, after all—how could that be kindness?

“You’re just too soft, Sister Xinya. If anyone’s to blame, it’s Xinlai herself—ugly, untalented, and doomed even if she marries Prince Xuan. Better to let her go now than let her suffer scorn until she dies. At least this way, she’ll be spared some pain,” Xinwei insisted, convincing herself that this act was a mercy, not a crime.

As the two discussed her impending murder in such open terms, Ouyang Xinlai showed no reaction—she still seemed the same vacant, muddle-headed girl as before.

“Whatever you say, Xinwei,” Xinya replied, deftly shifting all blame for the plot onto Xinwei’s shoulders. “Xinlai, just a bit more—can you try?”

Ouyang Xinlai raised her head, gazing at Xinya with a dazed innocence. She shook her head. “Tired. Can’t walk. Carry me.”

Xinya and Xinwei exchanged a look; neither wanted to carry the useless burden that was Xinlai.

“If you don’t get up, I’ll hit you!” Xinwei threatened, growing more exasperated. What was the point of keeping someone so useless alive?

At this, Xinlai’s eyes flashed coldly. She picked up a pine needle from the ground and flicked it with her fingers, sending it to prick Xinwei’s skin with a sharp, tingling pain.

“Tired. Can’t walk,” Xinlai repeated stubbornly, making it clear she expected to be carried.

“Fine, Xinwei, if you won’t, I’ll do it,” Xinya said with forced patience. All she wanted was for Xinlai to die quickly. The clan would never abandon the marriage alliance with Prince Xuan; in the end, the honor would fall to the most outstanding daughter—and that would undoubtedly be Xinya herself. If she had to suffer a small inconvenience to achieve her goal, so be it.

“Come on, Xinlai, get on,” Xinya said, turning her back to her.

Ouyang Xinlai leapt up, making Xinya stumble and wince with pain, though she couldn’t show it before Xinwei. Under the guise of helping, Xinya seized the opportunity to pinch Xinlai’s thigh hard, venting her frustration.

Annoyed, Xinlai realized just how false Xinya’s gentle facade was. She retaliated, kicking Xinya’s calf several times, matching her pinches with equal force. “It hurts, it hurts.”

“Stop squirming,” Xinya warned, struggling to keep them both upright as Xinlai wriggled on her back, making them sway precariously.

Xinlai only smiled. Since they all thought she was nothing but a fool, she had no qualms about playing her part.