Volume One Chapter One: A Tragic Death

Su Li cradled the cold enamel mug in both hands, staring at the calendar before her that read 1985, lost in a daze.

Hadn’t she already been killed by that treacherous couple?
How had she ended up back here, several years earlier?

With a creak, the office door swung open.
A slender figure approached. “Miss Su, may I have dinner at your place tonight? I’ll make you some chicken soup to help you recover.”
Su Li gazed at Zhao Xinran, her student, as her pupils gradually widened.

“I only managed to get the poverty subsidy this time thanks to you. I want to repay your kindness.”
Zhao Xinran smiled shyly, her lips curving gently.

Su Li fixed her gaze on the charming, innocent-looking girl before her, and a cold smile flickered at the corner of her mouth.
Deep within her mind, that vicious, deranged face from before kept alternating and overlapping with the harmlessly pretty visage in front of her now.

Her thoughts were abruptly dragged back to the previous life.

In her former life, in the depths of a brutal winter, snow fell thick and silent.
The biting wind pierced through Su Li’s thin clothes, scraping her skin like a blade.
In the cramped, dilapidated yard, the gravely ill Su Li shivered uncontrollably.
Heavy iron chains dragged at her ankles as she paced aimlessly, like a madwoman.
The rusted chain was fastened to a stone post by the woodshed door, giving her a range of barely two meters.

Three months earlier, she had suddenly fallen seriously ill and taken a leave from work to recover at home.
But when she awoke, she found herself locked up here, her throat seared by forced medication, unable to utter a sound.

Loneliness and illness tormented her, every day passing as slowly as a year.
Yet when she thought of her husband, Shao Ting’an, she couldn’t bear to die.
They had been married for many years, a model couple in the eyes of friends, family, even colleagues at the school and factory.
Perhaps one day he would find her—he loved her so deeply.
He was gentle and warm, his smile always comforting; Su Li missed him dearly.

Now, the sounds of firecrackers, drums, and the comings and goings of guests filled the air, a cacophony of blessings.
The noise was deafening, coming as if from the front yard—her own home.

“Ting’an, the departed are gone. Su Li left us too soon. Fortunately, Xinran will take care of you from now on. We’re all relieved.”
“Enough, let’s not dwell on misfortune on such a joyous day. Let’s wish Ting’an and Xinran a long, happy marriage and many children.”

Su Li might have lost her voice, but she was not deaf; she heard it all clearly through a single wall.

Her husband, Shao Ting’an, had remarried!
And his new bride—was Zhao Xinran, the very student she had mentored with pride for years.

Suddenly, Su Li leapt up, desperate to attract attention, but her limbs failed her, and she fell again and again in wretched defeat.
Her mouth opened and closed—she was calling out.
Calling Shao Ting’an’s name.

“Su Li left us so suddenly. It’s only thanks to Xinran’s care that I managed to pull through. From now on, I’ll treat her well and never let her suffer.”
“I promise to take good care of Ting’an too. That was Miss Su’s last wish,” Zhao Xinran’s voice was a little hoarse. “Before she passed, she asked me to look after Ting’an in her place. I won’t let her down—we’ll always be a family.”

As soon as Zhao Xinran finished speaking, thunderous applause broke out all around.
Their words, carried by the wind, drilled into Su Li’s ears, as if someone had struck a gong at her temple, shattering her world.

The laughter, the blessings, that gentle voice—everything faded away.
Night fell completely, and the white snow illuminated the darkness.
Su Li sat numb at the door, unmoving.

She thought that with the distance so close, Shao Ting’an would surely find her, sooner or later.
Yet he had married so quickly, and to her cherished protégé, Zhao Xinran.
They even claimed that this was her dying wish…

Not long after, the courtyard gate opened, and two figures entered side by side.
Su Li saw who it was and her eyes flew wide—it was Shao Ting’an and Zhao Xinran.

Her own red woolen coat was draped over Zhao Xinran’s shoulders.
Shao Ting’an, in a Mao suit, looked every bit the dashing gentleman.

Su Li scrambled to her feet, looking at Shao Ting’an, her mouth working in silent panic, but no sound came.
Tears the size of pearls fell one after another, splattering on the thick snow.

The man whom everyone saw as a devoted husband merely glanced at her, then turned to Zhao Xinran with tenderness in his eyes.

“Miss Su, you’re so foolish, I hardly know what to say to you,” Zhao Xinran said, the corners of her mouth lifting in smug triumph.

Su Li stared at them in bewilderment, fury burning in her eyes like a raging fire.

“Su Li, don’t blame me. Blame yourself for being unable to bear children. I can’t live without a child of my own.”
“And you’re neither as young nor as lively as Xinran. It just so happened you’ve been sick for a while. I know you’re sensible—just let go, don’t suffer anymore.”

Shao Ting’an’s mouth moved, but Su Li no longer wished to listen.

She stared at Shao Ting’an, unable to believe these words came from his lips.
In five years of marriage, he had never raised his voice to her. Everyone knew them as a loving couple.

“Miss Su, Ting’an and I have been together for a long time. You were always busy with work and trusted me, so you never noticed,” Zhao Xinran said, snuggling into Shao Ting’an’s arm, her face coy.

“Today we’re married. Have a piece of wedding candy—as thanks for making this possible.”
Shao Ting’an unwrapped a piece of candy and forced it into Su Li’s mouth, compelling her to swallow.

It was as if Shao Ting’an had stabbed a knife into Su Li’s chest, twisting it with every word, churning her heart to shreds.
She stared at him blankly, forgetting to breathe, her mouth filling with bitterness.

Suddenly, her stomach convulsed, and she spat out a mouthful of blood, splattering it on Shao Ting’an’s face.
He hastily wiped his mouth. “Such an unseemly end. Sending you off like this is all I owe you as husband and wife.”

Zhao Xinran squatted down and murmured a few words in Su Li’s ear; then the two of them hurried out.

The cold wind poured into her chest as Su Li collapsed in the snow, trembling, utterly wretched.
Echoes of a devil’s voice still rang in her ears.

“Su Li, Miss Su—you come from a good family, have a fine education, good looks, even a perfect husband. Why?”
“In the end, you still lost to my gentle charms. With just a little teasing, Shao Ting’an was hooked.”
“You always said how thoughtful I was, how much you loved my soup—but for over two years, you were drinking contraceptive herbs…”
“Ting’an cares so much about his reputation. If you’re alive, I can never show my face. I’ll let you watch me marry him—how does that feel? After all, it was your dying wish…”

Zhao Xinran’s words grew faint and distant in Su Li’s ears.

Lying in the snow, Su Li no longer had the strength to wonder when Shao Ting’an had changed.
Her hollow gaze fixed on the night sky as tears slid slowly down her cheeks, until consciousness faded away…

“Miss Su?” Zhao Xinran’s anxious voice snapped her back to the present. She pulled out a handkerchief. “Is something wrong? Why are you crying all of a sudden?”

Zhao Xinran’s bright voice yanked Su Li out of the fury and bitterness of her past life.
As she gazed at Zhao Xinran wiping her tears, Su Li suddenly stood up, the chair behind her crashing to the floor.

She paused, collected herself, and with trembling lips said, “It’s nothing. Let’s go home.”