Yang Ruoqing felt like laughing.
From the way Tan Shi looked at her, she couldn't sense even a trace of that so-called deep, hidden maternal affection!
As for this mother of hers—what a textbook example of a pushover. Someone slaps you, and yet you're still standing in their shoes, thinking for their sake!
"Mother, Grandma said Qing'er is just a fool who only knows how to eat. Am I really a fool?" Yang Ruoqing suddenly asked. From Tan Shi's words, what she heard wasn't just malicious insults—it sounded more like factual condemnation mixed with disdain.
Sun Shi was stunned for a moment. Looking at Qing'er's face before her, a wave of sorrow surged up from deep within, and her nose stung as though she might cry at any moment.
Holding back her tears, she gently pulled Yang Ruoqing into her arms, softly stroking her back. "That's just your grandma's angry talk. My Qing'er is smart—not a fool, not at all…"
Really?
A doubt arose in Yang Ruoqing's heart. Was the original owner of this body really a fool?
Yet after taking over this body, she hadn't received any of the original host's memories.
Yang Ruoqing wanted to ask more, but suddenly a loud bang came from the doorway of the side room. It was Tan Shi, smashing the laundry bat against the door. "You useless thing! Are you dead? Whispering back and forth with that idiot girl of yours—what are you dawdling for? Leaving all that work undone—are you trying to rebel?!"
Sun Shi quickly released Yang Ruoqing, turning her head and shouting toward the door, "Coming! Coming!"
Then she turned back, carefully helping Yang Ruoqing lie down again. She pulled up the damp, musty-smelling quilt and covered her up. "Qing'er, sleep for a bit more. Once I finish making lunch, I'll come check on you again!"
Yang Ruoqing obediently nodded, watching as Sun Shi hurriedly left the west wing room. The dimly lit room once again was left with only her.
She lay quietly on the hard wooden bed, staring blankly at the yellowed canopy above her.
Forget it. Even if the original host was a fool, that was in the past. From the moment she arrived, everything would be rewritten.
She didn't know how long she lay there staring until waves of dizziness spun through her head, followed by sharp pain. She reached up and wiped her forehead.
Damn, burning hot again—her fever was returning.
Her throat felt like it was on fire as if a blazing flame was consuming her throat and chest.
She opened her mouth with difficulty, but only a few hoarse, weak sounds came out.
It was unbearable. She longed for just one sip of cold tea. But this dark, dreary little room felt utterly cut off from the outside world.
In her half-conscious state, she seemed to hear footsteps in the courtyard, along with the loud voices of unfamiliar women, but no one noticed her faint cries for help from this small room.
Her body felt like it was alternately being roasted over burning coals and then plunged into icy water. She curled into herself, the quilt having already slipped to the floor.
Suddenly, fragments of something like old film reels rushed chaotically into her mind, like falling snowflakes, cramming into her head. Scene after scene of unfamiliar memories and everyday life flashed before her eyes, colliding with her own memories, making her skull feel like it was about to explode.
She hugged her arms tightly around herself, her teeth clenched hard, making clicking sounds. She twisted and rolled painfully on the bed, her consciousness growing fainter and fainter…
She didn't know how long had passed before she finally heard someone gently pushing her, a familiar voice anxiously calling into her ear, "Qing'er… Qing'er, why are you lying on the ground? Wake up, Qing'er…"
Yang Ruoqing slowly opened her eyes and found that she was actually lying on the floor. Sun Shi was bent over, her arms wrapped around Yang Ruoqing's thick waist, struggling to lift her up from the cold, damp ground. But Yang Ruoqing's body was too heavy, and with Sun Shi's long-term malnourishment, she simply didn't have the strength. She tried several times but still couldn't lift her.
Yang Ruoqing felt a bit embarrassed.
She gently pushed Sun Shi aside, bracing her hands on the cold, damp earthen floor to sit herself upright before moving back onto the bed.
This time when she woke up, she could clearly sense that a lot of strange memories had surfaced in her mind.
They were blurry and chaotic fragments of daily life—like how a five- or six-year-old child might perceive the world.
But who was Yang Ruoqing? In her previous life, she had been an elite special agent. No matter how disorganized something was, she could always extract a clear thread from the mess and piece together the bigger picture.
This cheap mother in front of her, along with that cheap father who had gone to town to get medicine and hadn't yet returned—
For thirteen years, the two of them had painstakingly raised this mentally impaired daughter, enduring countless scornful looks and hardships, yet never uttering a single word of complaint.
Just recently, this foolish version of herself had jumped into a pond at the entrance of the village—all for a single sentence spoken by that fiancé of hers from a childhood engagement. In the end, she'd been dragged out alive, but the ordeal had nearly cost these two people half their lives in worry.
Yang Ruoqing silently lowered her head, black lines practically forming on her forehead.
Even though those embarrassing, ridiculous things weren't done by her, from this moment on, this body was hers to control. Whatever foolishness the original host had done, it was now her responsibility to bear.
Sun Shi reached out to touch Yang Ruoqing's forehead—it was cool to the touch—and she finally let out a breath of relief.
She pulled the quilt over Yang Ruoqing again, muttering under her breath, "I only stepped away for the time it takes to cook lunch, and you managed to roll yourself onto the floor. Who knows how long you were lying there? Heaven help us, don't let her catch another chill…"
She couldn't help glancing up at her daughter again, noticing that instead of pouting like before or clinging to her coquettishly whenever she got scolded, her daughter now sat quietly with her head lowered.
A strange feeling of disappointment flashed through Sun Shi's heart. Suddenly, a thought struck her, and her heart tightened. She hurriedly steadied Yang Ruoqing's body and asked anxiously, "What's with this gloomy look? Qing'er, what's wrong? Did you bump into something? Quick, let Mother take a look!"
Even as she spoke, her eyes were already scanning Yang Ruoqing's entire body from head to toe, carefully inspecting every inch for bruises or injuries. Only when she was sure there were no visible signs of harm did she breathe a little easier?
"Mother, I'm fine. Don't worry," Yang Ruoqing rasped. "I'm just… a little hungry."
Sun Shi froze for a moment, staring at Yang Ruoqing in shock as if she couldn't quite believe what she'd just heard.
"Qing'er, am I dreaming? You—you're speaking clearly?"
Yang Ruoqing was full of internal frustration. The original version of herself was mentally challenged, slow-witted, and unable to form coherent sentences. She couldn't even express when she needed to use the toilet, only shouting nonsense like "Pee-pee…"
She nodded slightly, wanting to give this kind, cheap "mother" a little happiness.
She had wanted to reach out and hold Sun Shi's hand, but when she brought her hand up and caught a glimpse of her own filthy, blackened fingernails—those pig's trotters of hands—she felt a wave of shame and pulled them back again.
"Mother, I feel like… it's as if I've been trapped in a long dream. But now, I'm awake. I'm finally clear-headed," Yang Ruoqing said.
(End of chapter