The west courtyard of the Bai family was always cold. Even when spring came, the trees there stayed bare. The plum blossoms fell early, without blooming. The servants called it a bad place.
They believed the Third Miss would die there quietly, and no one would be blamed.
But I woke.
[Cycle 001 – Bai Ningwei]
[Soul Token Detected – Locked]
[Main Task: Stay alive. Correct injustice.]
I sat on a bamboo stool, eating cold porridge with a broken spoon. There was no steam left. The rice had swollen too much. The pickled radish was soft and pale.
The maid had not spoken when she left it. She had placed the tray down quickly, as if afraid I might cough blood on her shoes.
They thought I was finished. That I would sleep forever, body cold, face pale. They had stopped caring.
But the body lived.
The System stayed quiet again. It had nothing to say unless I failed. It was not my helper. It was my punishment.
I touched the peach blossom hairpin on the window sill. The pink paint was faded, and one petal had chipped. But it gave off a faint warmth.
[Soul Token recognized. Cannot access until task is complete.]
I pinned my hair up. The strands were stiff and dry, but I had no comb. There was no mirror, only a piece of polished metal stuck to the wall. I stared into the dull reflection.
My face was thin and pale. But the red mark under my left eye was clear. A cinnabar teardrop. It followed me into every life.
A knock came at the door.
Before I could reply, it opened. A young maid stepped in. She didn't bow. She didn't meet my eyes.
"Third Miss. Old Madam wants to see you."
She placed another tray on the low table and left quickly, like a shadow that feared sunlight.
I wore my robe. It used to be pale blue, but now it looked gray. The sleeves were too long. The cloth was stiff from old washing water. I had no belt, so I tied it with a thin strip of linen.
No one helped me dress.
No one expected me to walk again.
I stepped out into the morning air. The sky was bright, but the courtyard was dim. No fires had been lit.
A boy leaned on a broom beside the mossy gate.
"Third Miss." Lin Xiaozhi tilted his head. "Still breathing? The kitchen lost that bet."
I didn't stop walking.
"They said your soul already left," he added. "Guess it forgot something and came back."
I glanced at him. "If you keep talking, you'll lose more than silver."
He smiled. "Second Miss delivered a red-sealed letter this morning. From the Shen family."
My step paused.
"She walked into the main hall smiling," he said. "Old Madam clutched her prayer beads afterward. That usually means trouble."
He didn't follow me.
The ancestral hall was quiet and full of smoke. Incense burned on three golden stands. The painted faces of the ancestors watched from above, eyes unmoved.
Old Madam Bai sat in the central seat. Her robes were dark, the color of dried blood. Her hair was pulled tightly back, held with a silver pin.
I walked in and bowed.
"You're slower than before," she said.
"I only go where I'm allowed," I answered.
Her lips pressed into a thin line.
"The Shen heir has returned from the western border. He sent a letter. He wishes to see you."
"Why?"
"You are not here to ask questions," she said. "If he wants to see you, you will go. If he demands an apology, you will give it twice."
I kept my eyes down.
"He is a rising man in court," she continued. "If you can restore the Bai name, you will do it, even if it means kneeling from sunrise to sunset."
I bowed lower. "This granddaughter understands."
She stared at me for a long time. "You were trouble from the beginning. Now you are shame made flesh. But if he accepts you, perhaps we can still clean the dirt off this family's name."
A breeze passed through the side doors. The incense smoke curled and rose, like whispers that didn't want to be heard.
She waved her hand. "Leave. Do not speak unless spoken to."
I turned and left.
The painted ancestors on the wall said nothing. But I felt them watching — not in protection, but in judgment.