Volume One, Chapter One: A Knife Above the Word "Desire"

"Little beauty... hehehe..."

Zhu Xiaozhi opened her eyes to find the wrinkled, drunken face of a stranger—an old man with thinning white hair—looming just an inch away. His eyes were murky and unfocused, his breath reeked of rot, and traces of saliva clung to the corners of his mouth. He was dressed in an oversized red wedding robe. The black dragon embroidery on the garment was exquisite, but the jade belt could not contain his protruding belly, which hung before him like a heavy sack.

Zhu Xiaozhi knew she was in deep trouble. She had been busking on the street when she inadvertently took an old book handed to her by an elderly woman. Everything had gone black, and when she regained consciousness, she found herself in this perilous situation.

Without waiting for him to make a move, just seeing those lecherous eyes scanning her up and down was enough for her to guess his intentions. What was even more terrifying was that she was wearing a matching wedding robe with gold-threaded phoenix embroidery, sitting beside him on a square red sandalwood bed, as if taking part in some archaic wedding ceremony.

The phone and electric scooter keys that had been in her pockets were gone. She frantically groped around, feeling only cold, smooth satin, and her heart sank heavily.

Seeing the young woman trying to pull away, the old man stroked his chin, grabbed her slender waist—which bent like a willow branch—and kneaded it ruthlessly. He leaned in closer. "Little beauty, I spent a full hundred taels to buy you. Stick with me, and I won't treat you poorly."

As he waved his arms, the rolls of fat on his face wobbled. "The last beauty in this room enjoyed a life of luxury before she died. It's just a pity her body was weak; she kicked the bucket before she could give me a plump little son. Tell me, how could someone so big be so fragile? She was just too old."

Zhu Xiaozhi felt a pair of coarse hands slide under her clothes, separated only by a thin layer of undergarments. The old man was mostly bald, and his remaining white hair smelled of rancid grease. He kept rubbing his nose against her collar, sniffing greedily. "Her scent is still on this bed—the smell of a corpse. You’re much sweeter, little beauty. Old Li was right; the scent of a young woman is truly something else..."

Before he could get any closer, Zhu Xiaozhi scooted backward until her back hit the bedpost.

The old man lingeringly hooked her pinky finger. "Don't worry, the old woman's seventh day after death has passed; she won't be coming back to cause us any trouble. Let's have some fun, and I’ll make sure to get you pregnant with a big boy tonight to carry on the Liu family line..."

His eyes rolled back, revealing a large expanse of white, and he stuck out a yellowish, coated tongue, intending to lick the exposed snow-white skin of Zhu Xiaozhi’s neck.

Zhu Xiaozhi felt a chill that made her skin crawl. Before that oily tongue could touch her, she slammed her knee into the old man's groin. Even though he was in pain and clutched his lower body with one hand, his other hand still reached out to grope her cheek. "Stubborn, are we? Stubborn is good. I like conquering stubborn women. Hehehe... I’ll make you cry and beg me to spare your life..."

She glanced at the blue-and-white porcelain vase standing half an arm's length behind him. Using her petite stature to her advantage, she lunged forward, and in the blink of an eye, she had the vase in her arms.

The old man reached out frantically, but caught only the fluttering sleeve of her wedding robe. "What are you doing? That vase cost me hundreds of taels! If you break it, even selling you wouldn't cover the cost—"

With a loud "bang," blue and white porcelain shards mixed with dark red blood exploded against the back of his head. He would never have the chance to speak again.

Still fuming, Zhu Xiaozhi kicked the limp, bloated corpse on the floor. She gagged a few times and spat out sharply, "Even a highway latrine doesn't smell as bad as your mouth. Absolutely disgusting. Hard pass, uncle! Pfft, what bad luck!"

Having resolved the immediate crisis, she finally turned her attention to her surroundings. It was a room with simple, antique decor, featuring wooden beams and window frames. Aside from the red sandalwood bed in the center, there was only a small matching table holding a mottled bronze mirror and a dainty vanity box.

Through the pitted and uneven surface of the bronze mirror, Zhu Xiaozhi caught a glimpse of watery almond eyes, a high-bridged nose, and clearly defined thin lips—an entirely unfamiliar face. Combined with the environment, could she have fallen into the cliché trope of transmigrating into the body of an ancient beauty?

But she had never heard of any ancient beauty with a happy ending. Look at the Four Great Beauties: one drowned, one was sent to the frontier, one went missing, and one was strangled. Was possessing this face a blessing or a curse? Given that she had almost been assaulted by the old man just moments ago, she already had a very bad feeling.

Regardless, escaping this place before anyone else discovered the anomaly was the priority. Since the old man could spend a poor family’s lifetime earnings to buy a "vase," he surely had some wealth and influence; he might even have armed guards in his household.

She rummaged through the vanity box, finding a gold hairpin with a sharp tip to use as a weapon. She stripped off the garish wedding robe, let her dark hair hang loose, and used the wood ash from the fireplace to smear her face and body. While searching for tools, she discovered that although her precious phone was likely gone, whenever she thought of the concept of a "phone," an interface resembling a contact list automatically appeared in her mind.

Compared to the flashy functions of modern smartphones, this interface was very simple. A horizontal banner across the center read "Favorability," and beneath it were only four names, all neatly starting with the surname "Zhu." Where phone numbers should have been, three red hearts floated beneath each name.

The terrifying part was that next to each contact's name was a line stating "Date of Death," all of which were fixed to exactly five years from now. These contacts all shared her surname—could it be a coincidence? Moreover, she felt she had seen the name at the top, "Zhu Xuanli," somewhere before. But as an orphan, she had never thought to seek her roots, so she shouldn't have any concept of a family tree.

Zhu Xiaozhi was deep in thought when a sound outside the door nearly made her jump out of her skin. It was an old woman with a greasy, shrill voice asking for money. "Is the master satisfied with the girl? If so, this old woman's payment..."

"L-later! I'm busy!"

Zhu Xiaozhi's heart hammered against her ribs. She lowered her voice, forcing herself to mimic the old man’s tone to respond. Fortunately, she had learned how to perform cross-dressing roles while busking, and with the door acting as a filter, even mimicking the old man's voice wouldn't sound suspicious.

The old woman didn't leave. Zhu Xiaozhi switched back to her own crisp, natural voice and let out a few groans, pretending that the two inside were deep in their tryst. After holding her breath for several moments, the sound of shuffling footsteps finally faded away.

Clutching the gold hairpin, she walked to the door, gently lifted the latch, and peeked through a crack. Outside was a small courtyard, moonlight pouring down like water, the shadows of the trees dancing.

*Whew*—thankfully, no one was there.

[Xiaozhi? Is that you, Xiaozhi?]

A strange, urgent male voice suddenly echoed around her. Zhu Xiaozhi stiffened, looking left, then right—there was no one in sight. She turned her head inch by inch to look at the corpse that should have remained silent. The old man was still lying face down, the blood from the back of his neck dripping steadily, forming a small pool.

It wasn't him. Then who was speaking?