Rong Yu died.
She had taken her eight-year-old son out to celebrate his birthday when a speeding car came hurtling toward them. She had just managed to push her son out of the way before the car sent her flying.
When she opened her eyes again, she found herself in a banquet hall.
The blinding chandeliers, men in tailored suits, women in lavish gowns—everything around her was unfamiliar. Even the control over her limbs felt foreign. This… was not her body.
Many eyes turned toward her.
"Is this the eldest daughter of the Rong Family?"
"Yes, the daughter from Mr. Rong’s first marriage. She lived in the countryside for eighteen years and was only brought back to Haicheng two months ago…"
A splitting headache surged through Rong Yu’s skull as memories flooded her mind.
…She had traveled seventy years into the future, from the early days of China’s founding!
Her soul had taken over the body of this eighteen-year-old high school girl.
She was no longer Professor Rong.
Now, she was the eldest daughter of the Rong Family, raised by her mother until her passing two months prior, after which she was brought to live with her father.
"Sister, so this is where you are."
Rong Yu looked up to see the girl standing before her—her half-sister, Rong Ruoyao.
Since being brought back to the Rong Family, the original owner of this body had suffered constant subtle ostracization from Rong Ruoyao, compounded by her stepmother’s oppression, her father’s neglect, and mockery from classmates… In just two months, the girl had developed severe depression.
Rong Ruoyao stepped forward, her voice sickly sweet. "Sister, I didn’t know you liked red wine. But you’re holding the glass wrong."
Rong Yu swirled the wine in her glass and smiled faintly. "Oh?"
"Yes," Rong Ruoyao said with feigned concern. "The ideal serving temperature for red wine is no higher than eighteen degrees. Holding the bowl of the glass affects the taste. Here, let me show you how to—"
Before she could finish, Rong Yu raised her hand and splashed the entire glass of wine onto Rong Ruoyao’s face.
The dark red liquid dripped down her meticulously applied makeup, staining her expensive gown.
Rong Ruoyao’s face twisted in shock. "Y-you’ve lost your mind!"
Rong Yu set the empty glass aside and asked leisurely, "Now, has the taste changed?"
Gasps erupted from the onlookers.
"My God, how uncivilized!"
"What terrible manners. How could Mr. Rong have a daughter like this?"
Rong Yu swept her gaze across the crowd, sharp as a blade. "And all you well-mannered people, hiding in corners, whispering and judging me—is that not uncivilized?"
The crowd fell silent.
Humiliated beyond measure, Rong Ruoyao covered her face and fled in tears.
Now, Rong Yu finally had a moment to collect her thoughts.
She pulled out a phone from her bag and, following the original owner’s memories, quickly figured out how to browse the news.
Seventy years had passed in the blink of an eye.
China’s era of humiliation was now history.
Their great nation stood tall among the world’s most powerful…
As Rong Yu scrolled through her phone, a sudden commotion broke out in the banquet hall.
A tall figure strode in, backlit by the entrance lights. He wore a flawlessly tailored black suit, his broad shoulders accentuated by the sharp lines of the jacket. His every movement exuded an innate nobility, and the chandelier’s glow highlighted the striking angles of his face.
Rong Yu looked up—and froze.
This man’s stature, his features, even the subtlest expressions… were identical to her husband’s.
But—
Her husband had died a heroic death long ago.
"It’s Mr. Ji!"
"Mr. Ji actually came to this banquet?"
"Quick, go greet him."
Exclamations rose around her as the crowd surged toward the man.
Ji?
Rong Yu’s pupils constricted.
She pushed forward, weaving through the crowd until she stood directly in front of him.
Up close, the resemblance was even more uncanny.
Suppressing the storm of emotions inside her, she spoke. "What is your relation to Ji Shunying?"
The moment the words left her mouth, the lively banquet hall fell deathly silent.
Then erupted into murmurs.
"How brazen, to address Elder Ji by his full name so casually!"
"This is the daughter the Rong Family just brought back from the countryside. Rude and uncultured—utterly lacking in manners."
Rong Wangtian, standing nearby, nearly jumped out of his skin.
"Mr. Ji, my daughter grew up in the countryside and doesn’t know any better. Please, be magnanimous and overlook her behavior." He turned to Rong Yu and hissed, "Apologize to Mr. Ji at once!"
Rong Yu’s mind buzzed.
Ji Shunying—the son she had carried for ten months and given birth to. So this young man before her was… her great-grandson?
Her great-grandson was already this old?
Of course. By the normal timeline, she would be nearly a hundred, and her son seventy-eight.
Just moments ago, she had been holding her little boy’s hand.
Now, in the blink of an eye, decades had passed—her son was an old man, and seventy years of their lives had been lost to time.
Her voice was strained. "Is Ji Shunying… still alive?"
Rong Wangtian clapped a hand over her mouth.
First, she addressed Elder Ji by name. Now, she was implying he might be dead?
He never should have allowed this daughter to attend the banquet!
"My grandfather is in excellent health and very much alive," Ji Zhiyuan said, his lips curving in a cold, mocking smile. "Mr. Rong, you’ve certainly raised a bold daughter."
Rong Wangtian broke out in a cold sweat. "Mr. Ji, my daughter, she—"
Before he could finish, Ji Zhiyuan strode away.
Rong Yu instinctively moved to follow.
If her son was alive, she had to see him.
But the moment she took a step, Rong Wangtian seized her wrist. "Is this how your mother raised you? No manners, no upbringing—you’re a disgrace to the Rong Family!"
Rong Yu wrenched her arm free and smirked. "First time I’ve heard someone insult themselves like this."
A vein throbbed in Rong Wangtian’s temple.
He raised his hand and swung a vicious slap toward her.
Rong Yu moved to block it—
Then, agony exploded in her skull like a thousand arrows piercing through. The pain was unbearable. Her vision darkened, and she collapsed backward.
The crowd murmured.
"Mr. Rong, she’s still young. You can teach her properly over time."
"Did he really have to hit her so hard that she fainted?"
"After offending the Ji Family, a slap is getting off easy…"
Rong Wangtian nearly choked on his fury.
He hadn’t even landed the blow—this girl was faking it!
But when he looked down, Rong Yu’s face was deathly pale. It didn’t seem like an act.
