Taking advantage of the momentary daze of the Jiang Family trio, Shu Fu strode swiftly like the wind, her feet barely touching the ground as she hurried back to the small courtyard where Jiang Ruoshui lived.
No one stopped her—this was exactly as she had anticipated.
From the moment she transmigrated into this world, she had noticed that Jiang Ruoshui’s body was brimming with spiritual energy, light as a swallow, clearly possessing excellent cultivation aptitude and already having some cultivation foundation. If described in terms of "realms" from cultivation novels, she was likely at the peak of Qi Refining, just one step away from Foundation Establishment.
Though her strength might not be impressive by broader standards, it was more than enough to deal with Chu Xiao and Jiang Baozhu, those two pretty but useless fools.
As for Jiang Haoran, out of concern for the family head’s dignity, he wouldn’t personally lay hands on the daughter left behind by his deceased wife.
In other words, if Jiang Ruoshui truly hardened her heart and tore off all pretenses, no one in the Jiang Family could do anything to her.
Even if, by some stretch, she couldn’t win in a fight, the Jiang Family still wouldn’t stop her—they had long regarded her as nothing more than an eyesore. Now that she was voluntarily leaving, abandoning her status, possessions, and inheritance without a fight, sparing them the trouble of concocting excuses to get rid of her, wasn’t this exactly what they wanted?
As the saying goes, "He who desires nothing is invincible." Shu Fu wanted nothing from the Jiang Family, so she was especially invincible.
Thus, her journey back was smooth and unimpeded, so much so that she even had the leisure to admire the scenery of the cultivator’s residence along the way.
Jiang Ruoshui was neglected in the family, and her dwelling was tucked away in an inconspicuous corner of the northeast compound, squeezed in pitifully. Only a vibrant rose trellis at the entrance added a splash of color to the otherwise dreary place.
Before Shu Fu could step through the courtyard gate, a clamor of voices spilled over the walls—shrill cries, angry shouts, and the crude, lewd banter of men—piercing her eardrums like countless needles.
"…"
She rubbed her temples, feeling as though the concentration of idiocy in the air was so high that she might suffocate. Staying here even a day longer could very well leave her brain-dead from the toxicity.
Best to leave as soon as possible.
Based on the original plot and Jiang Ruoshui’s memories, the current situation was roughly this:
Chu Xiao had bribed one of Jiang Ruoshui’s maids to steal personal belongings from her mistress, intending to gift them—along with Jiang Baozhu’s birthday presents—to the "adulterer," the so-called "Senior Brother Gao" mentioned earlier.
"Senior Brother Gao," whose full name was Gao Ping, was a petty, foolish, and malicious disciple under the Jiang Family’s tutelage. Greedy for wealth and lust, he had accepted Chu Xiao’s bribes while also seizing the opportunity to force himself upon Jiang Ruoshui, now that her "virtue" had been called into question. His audacity knew no bounds.
The plan was simple: Jiang Baozhu would theatrically exclaim, "Oh no, my things are missing!" Chu Xiao, already prepared, would then pin the blame on Jiang Ruoshui. Under questioning, the maid would tearfully confess, "The young mistress ordered me to steal them—she gave them to her lover!" As for the "lover," Gao Ping would step forward, declaring that he and Jiang Ruoshui were deeply in love, having pledged themselves to each other in secret, their passion so intense that she would never marry into the Qi Family.
With witnesses and evidence in place, even if Jiang Ruoshui had a hundred mouths, she wouldn’t be able to defend herself.
Chu Xiao, fearing the accusations weren’t damning enough, piled on three more charges: theft, jealousy, and framing her own sister. Her repertoire of scheming was well-practiced, designed to crush Jiang Ruoshui utterly.
If it had been the original Jiang Ruoshui, even if she survived the ordeal, she’d be left half-dead.
But Shu Fu was different.
When it came to unorthodox methods and audacious maneuvers, she had never backed down.
Right now, the courtyard was in chaos for two reasons: first, Chu Xiao had sent people to ransack the place under the pretense of "searching for evidence," though their real goal was to seize the keepsakes left behind by Jiang Ruoshui’s late mother. Second, Gao Ping’s gang of lowlife friends had come to "get acquainted with their future sister-in-law."
Standing at the courtyard gate, Shu Fu swept her gaze across the scene, swiftly labeling each person based on their expressions and demeanor:
Trash, trash, cannon fodder, trash, venomous supporting character, trash, trash, trash…
(Repeat trash × N.)
In the end, she couldn’t help but sigh: What a prestigious cultivation family, yet so thoroughly rotten inside that it might as well be a landfill.
The only reason Shu Fu could think of for the Jiang Family’s century-long survival in the original story was that the plot required them—they were indispensable in making Jiang Ruoshui’s life miserable. Like cockroaches, they thrived against all odds, resilient and impossible to eradicate.
How utterly depressing.
"Young Mistress! The Young Mistress is back!"
Just then, a sharp-eyed maid in the courtyard spotted Shu Fu and cried out in a mix of relief and joy, "Young Mistress, are you alright? Thank goodness! I was so worried Madam might have—"
Shu Fu recognized this maid—her name was Fangfei, the most loyal of Jiang Ruoshui’s attendants. According to the original plot, she would have desperately tried to shield her mistress during the torture, only for Chu Xiao to deliberately brand her with a hot iron, leading to her death. She was the first casualty in Jiang Ruoshui’s tragic life.
Shu Fu pitied the girl and spoke to her gently, "Don’t be afraid. I’m fine."
In the brief exchange, the servants rummaging through the rooms and the rowdy young men causing a scene all turned their attention to her. They had come here looking for trouble but clearly hadn’t expected the mistress of the house to return so soon. For a moment, they froze.
"Quite the lively gathering."
Shu Fu couldn’t be bothered with pleasantries. With a dismissive tilt of her chin, she said, "Fangfei stays. The rest of you—get out."
"……"
The crowd exchanged bewildered glances, momentarily at a loss. They couldn’t comprehend what had gotten into this usually meek and compliant young mistress.
"Young Mistress, what kind of talk is that?"
A bold maidservant, emboldened by her status as Chu Xiao’s favorite, stepped forward with a sneer. "We serve Madam. How could we take orders from you? After the disgraceful things you’ve done, whether you remain the Jiang Family’s young mistress is still up for debate!"
"No need to worry. I consider the title 'Jiang Family Young Mistress' an insult—your Madam’s precious Baozhu can keep it." Shu Fu replied politely, gesturing for her to leave. "Feel free to relay that to Madam. Now, scram."
"You—!!"
The maidservant’s face twisted between green and red, too afraid to lash out but visibly disgusted, as if she’d swallowed a fly. "Young Mistress, don’t be so arrogant. Your mother has been dead for years, and the Tong Family has long declined. Without the Jiang Family name, who do you think you are to order us around?"
That struck a nerve, Shu Fu mused.
Her birth mother was gone, her maternal family weakened, her father indifferent, her stepmother and stepsister scheming against her, and her maids disloyal—except for Fangfei, the one simple-minded, honest girl.
They say "life is like a game of chess," but no matter how you looked at it, Jiang Ruoshui’s opening moves had been disastrous.
Still, it wasn’t completely hopeless.
"Yeah, who do you think you are?!"
The group of young men, who looked every bit the spoiled brats, grew bolder when they saw her silence. They crowded around her, spitting out venomous words. "We've all heard about it—you and Gao Ping were caught in an affair by the madam, weren't you? That makes you his woman now. We ought to call you 'sister-in-law.'"
"Congratulations, sister-in-law."
Another disciple of the Jiang Family chimed in with ill intent, his dark eyes gleaming with mischief. "With looks like yours, Gao Ping is one lucky man. Once you marry into the family, you’ll have to get close to us too."
"Exactly. Honestly, what’s so special about a 'young mistress'? Pah! Once you’re married, you’ll have to live under Gao Ping’s thumb."
A third one eagerly added, "They say 'brothers are like limbs, women like clothes.' We’re Gao Ping’s sworn brothers, so in the future, it’s you who should be currying favor with us."
"You—you shameless, despicable lowlifes!"
Fangfei, hot-tempered as ever, turned to grab a broom from the wall, but one of the brats yanked her sleeve and lewdly stroked her cheek, sending the others into raucous laughter.
Shu Fu’s expression darkened, though the corners of her lips still curled into a mild, patient smile, as if deaf to their insults. She rubbed her fingertips lightly before turning to the servant woman who had led the charge earlier, speaking in a measured tone.
"You just asked me, what right do I have to order you around, didn’t you?"
Her calm demeanor was unsettling, and the servant woman felt a flicker of unease, though she stubbornly lifted her chin. "That’s right! In the Jiang Family today, the patriarch is heaven, the madam is earth. If the young mistress alienates them, no one will stand by you."
"Bullshit! Am I not a person? You’re the ones who aren’t human!"
Fangfei was about to leap up and curse again, but Shu Fu raised a hand to stop her. Then, with an almost lazy grace, she extended her right hand, palm upturned, as if catching a falling petal.
Amid the courtyard’s foul atmosphere, the girl’s radiant smile outshone even the brightest spring sunlight.
"Fine," she said softly. "I’ll tell you what right I have."
The moment the words left her lips, a dazzling light erupted from the main house, illuminating every corner, accompanied by a clear, ancient dragon’s roar that pierced the sky, resonating endlessly—so powerful it seemed to halt the clouds.
Then, a streak of cyan light, carrying an icy, intimidating aura, shot through the window like a gale sweeping across the courtyard. It circled above each person’s head, sending them into a panic, stumbling and shrieking, before finally hovering steadily above Shu Fu’s outstretched palm, allowing her to grasp it firmly.
It was unmistakably a sword.
The blade was slender, its edge gleaming like snow, radiating a cold, piercing light. Yet when held, a warm spiritual energy pulsed through it—undoubtedly a rare treasure among swords.
The sword unsheathed was like a dragon emerging from clouds into the sea, its sharpness unstoppable.
Shu Fu weighed the sword—hidden in Jiang Ruoshui’s room—in her hand, the nostalgia of the original owner and her own emotions merging into a barely audible sigh.
She knew this sword was named "Solitary Radiance," one of the two most precious heirlooms left by Jiang Ruoshui’s late mother. The other was an ancient zither called "Soul Moon."
The names were poetic, but their fates were far from kind.
In the original story, Solitary Radiance and Soul Moon were artifacts capable of turning the tide in battle—yet they weren’t meant for the heroine.
Jiang Ruoshui was no sword cultivator, nor did she dare misuse her mother’s relics, so she kept them sealed away as mementos.
Later, when she fell in love with Qi Yuxuan, who happened to need a fine sword, she gifted him Solitary Radiance without hesitation—along with her heart, her devotion, her everything.
But then she was framed, cast into the demon realm, her possessions plundered by rivals. Even Soul Moon fell into Jiang Baozhu’s hands.
And later still, when Qi Yuxuan, now a mighty figure, turned against her, he shattered Solitary Radiance before her eyes—pouring spiritual energy into it until the legendary blade exploded into fragments.
As for Soul Moon, its spirit refused to serve its enemy. Seizing a moment of Jiang Baozhu’s carelessness, it threw itself into a forge, consumed by spiritual flames, reduced to ashes.
The sword’s courage, the zither’s soul—both silenced forever.
After the main couple’s happy ending, they erected graves for every fallen side character, even these two artifacts, mourning them with offerings and sweeping their tombs—as if that meant a damn thing!
A sword buried in dust, a pearl cast before swine—what a waste!
In her past life, Shu Fu had clawed her way up from nothing, frugal to the bone. Waste disgusted her.
Solitary Radiance and Soul Moon had been mere plot devices in the original story, tools for tragedy. Now that they were hers, she was too selfish and petty to give them away.
If they were hers, she might as well use them.
Jiang Ruoshui’s cultivation was limited, and Shu Fu, newly arrived in this world, lacked the skill to wield such a sword. Fortunately, Solitary Radiance had a spirit—it recognized its master. With just a thought, it would clear her path.
That was why she could act without hesitation.
"You’re right. Right now, I have nothing and no one to rely on."
Shu Fu gripped the sword, relying on muscle memory and her past life’s martial arts experience to flick her wrist in a graceful flourish. Then she released it, letting Solitary Radiance soar through the air, its tip halting just before the servant woman’s throat.
"What right do I have? The right of being your daddy—the right to smack you onto the wall."
"Help! Someone help!"
The servant woman was petrified, her face ghostly pale as she scrambled backward, collapsing to the ground, trembling too violently to stand.
Shu Fu had no intention of harming a mere mortal. With a thought, Solitary Radiance veered, slicing through the belts of the jeering young disciples, leaving deep gashes on their most vulnerable spots. Blood sprayed instantly—like a scene from a pet clinic during neutering.
"AAAAAHHHH!!! MY—MY—!!!!"
The courtyard erupted into chaos. Howls and screams filled the air, men clutching their wounds, women covering their eyes—far livelier than before.
Only Fangfei, emboldened, snatched up a broom and swung it wildly. "See what happens now?! See?! That’s what you get for harassing me! For disrespecting our mistress! Speaking of which, mistress, since when were you this strong?"
"..."
Shu Fu pinched the bridge of her nose. "Your mistress has always been strong. She was just too kind to stoop to their level."
With that, she stepped forward casually, reclaiming Solitary Radiance and deflecting a sword swung at her by a howling young man. Her blade pressed against his thumb joint.
"Was it this hand you used to grope Fangfei?"
Her tone was gentle, but her words cut like a blade. "You're older than me, with years more cultivation. Even crawling, you should be ahead of me. If your hands are this useless, why keep them?"
"Yikes!!"
The young man gasped in horror, scrambling away in a frantic, undignified retreat. "Murder! Jiang Ruoshui has gone mad and is killing people!!"
Jiang Ruoshui wasn’t mad enough—that was why spineless cowards like these dared to trample over her.
Shu Fu thought as much, flicking the tip of her sword and uttering two succinct words: "Pathetic."
"You—you’re bullying the weak, harming your own sectmates!"
The disciples writhed in pain, their backs bent double as they crawled backward in retreat. "We’ll report this to the patriarch! He’ll punish you with the family laws!"
These disciples, the kind who mingled with scum like Gao Ping, were nothing but bullies—good-for-nothings who relied on the Jiang Family’s name to oppress the weak. Now, after Shu Fu’s merciless beating, their rotten cores were laid bare.
"What family laws? The Jiang Family has no laws, and I’m not part of it."
Shu Fu arched a brow dismissively, ignoring their impotent rage as she turned to Fangfei, who was still fuming. "Fangfei, stop fighting. Go pack our things—we’re leaving now. If anything’s missing, strip it from their bodies. Skin them if you have to."
Jiang Ruoshui had given her a life, a second chance—but their personalities were worlds apart. Shu Fu would never endure humiliation for the sake of the Jiang Family, nor would she grovel for Qi Yuxuan.
But beyond that, everything Jiang Ruoshui had—Fangfei, the swords Guāng and Pòyuè, even a single sheet of paper—Shu Fu would protect with everything she had.
That, at least, would be her repayment.
"Miss, are we really leaving?"
Fangfei, still just a child, blinked in confusion. "But… the late madam’s family is in no state to help us. Where will we go if we leave the Jiang Family?"
"We can go anywhere."
Shu Fu laughed, tapping Fangfei’s forehead with a finger. "You’ve never stepped beyond the Jiang Family’s gates, so you think this tiny world is all there is. But outside, the sky is vast, the earth boundless—there are countless families like the Jiangs, and none of them are worth clinging to."
"Oh… I see."
Fangfei nodded, though she didn’t fully understand. "Alright, I’ll follow you, miss."
"Good girl."
Shu Fu ruffled her hair.
This lively little girl should have died today—yet here she was, warm and full of life. That alone filled Shu Fu’s heart with immeasurable satisfaction.
…
Jiang Ruoshui had lived simply, so their belongings were few. In no time, they packed everything and strode past the trembling servants—who dared not stop them—straight out the Jiang Family’s gates without a backward glance.
The Jiang Family estate was nestled against a mountain. As they stepped outside, the setting sun bathed the forested slopes in gold, the breeze carrying the scent of freedom. It was a breathtaking sight.
"Let’s go."
Shu Fu patted Fangfei’s slender shoulder and, without so much as a glance back at the Jiang Family, set off—armed with a sword, a zither, and a little maid who was meant to die a nameless death—onto a road with no certain destination.
From this day forth, the sky was high, the seas wide, and the world would be their home.
