Half an hour later, Lin Xi met Ming Shu's mother, Ming Li. She was dressed in a long black down jacket, and the wrinkles on her face were far more pronounced than those Lin Xi had seen on television.
She rarely smiled, her expression remaining indifferent when speaking to others, her eyes carrying a deep weariness.
Lin Xi took a photo of her. Sensing the attention, Ming Li paused slightly upon noticing Lin Xi, then nodded at her before following the others from the neighborhood inside.
Lin Xi didn’t enter. Instead, she also took a picture of the missing person notice before heading toward the restaurant next door, sending the photos to Ming Shu.
Since morning, Ming Shu had summoned the imperial physician. After he left and she finished receiving visits from her sisters who came to check on her, she lay in bed, anxiously and eagerly awaiting news from Lin Xi.
Her emotions were conflicted. She hoped her mother still remembered her, yet feared that if she had vanished without a trace, her mother wouldn’t be able to bear the grief.
Her thoughts spiraled. She began to pray, wishing that the Ming Shu of this world had crossed into her body, taking her place and living well with her mother.
The more she dwelled on these thoughts, the more restless she became. Then, before the announcement outside could even finish, someone entered her chambers.
"Jiaojiao, I’ve come to see you. Are you feeling better?" The emperor lifted the hem of his robe and sat at Ming Shu’s bedside, his peach-blossom eyes fixed on her with an intensity that feigned deep affection.
But Ming Shu knew better. This man’s heart was filled with affairs of state, leaving only the tiniest space for women—and within that tiny space, there were already too many crowded inside.
She was merely one of the many women he favored slightly more than the rest.
Ming Shu had once loved the emperor. After all, when she first transmigrated here, she had just graduated from university, untouched by the harsh realities of the world, still holding onto romantic ideals.
But then, her child was taken from her by the then-Imperial Consort Wang, and the emperor did nothing to seek justice for her. In that moment, her heart turned to ashes.
From that day onward, Ming Shu realized she was no different from any other woman in the harem.
"Thank you for your concern, Your Majesty. This concubine is merely feeling slightly unwell due to the changing seasons—just an old ailment," Ming Shu replied gently.
The emperor took her hand. "Take good care of yourself and rest well."
After these perfunctory words, he immediately turned cold toward her attendants. "Serve your mistress well. If anything happens to her, none of you will be spared."
The palace servants dropped to their knees in unison. Ming Shu maintained her smile, though her heart remained unmoved. "Yes."
The emperor didn’t stay long in Ming Shu’s palace. Before long, the chief eunuch, Li Wa, called for him from outside. Without delay, he instructed Ming Shu to rest well, promising to return for dinner that evening, then left.
Right now, the last person Ming Shu wanted to see was the emperor. She didn’t want him to dine with her—in fact, she didn’t want to see him at all these days.
The feeling was hard to describe. It was like when she was in middle school and had secretly followed the trend of cutting bangs, only to dread her mother’s scolding afterward.
In short, she found the emperor unworthy, someone she’d be embarrassed to present before her mother.
The mere thought of him filled her with disgust.
"Farewell, Your Majesty." After over a decade in the palace, Ming Shu had mastered the art of composure. No matter how much she despised him, her expression remained flawless.
Once the emperor left, Ming Shu lay back in bed, clutching her bracelet as she waited.
Time moved differently between the two worlds. It wasn’t until late afternoon, when the sun slanted westward, that Lin Xi’s message finally arrived. Seeing the missing person notice and her mother’s face—aged far beyond what she remembered—Ming Shu burst into tears.
She wept under the covers for a long, long time. Her chief maids, Qingxiang and Bai Xin, heard her and wiped their own tears. No woman in the harem was free from suffering.
Their mistress may have lived in luxury, but how much less pain did she bear in her heart?
The emperor happened to pass by at that moment. Hearing the mournful weeping from inside, he paused and silenced the eunuch who was about to announce him.
A long while later, the emperor emerged. He turned to Li Wa, who stood hunched beside him, and asked, "What day is it today?"
As the emperor’s most trusted attendant, Li Wa had to remember countless details. His mind raced before he answered respectfully, "Today marks the day, fourteen years ago, when Her Majesty the Imperial Consort lost the young prince she was carrying."
Li Wa shrank further as he spoke. The emperor’s hands clenched tightly. After a long silence, he finally said, "Let’s go. Back to the palace."
Ming Shu knew the emperor had come and gone, but she was too irritated to care. Forcing herself to eat a bowl of rice to avoid an empty stomach, she returned to bed, sinking back into melancholy.
Before she could fully immerse herself in sorrow, an attendant announced the arrival of the Second Prince, Yang Zhao. Ming Shu gathered her spirits.
In this ancient world, she had been pregnant twice. The first time, she lost the child. The second time, she gave birth to Yang Zhao, now ten years old. By palace rules, princes were to live independently in the outer palace after turning seven.
Women of the harem were forbidden from entering the outer court, so mothers like Ming Shu could only wait for their sons to visit every few days to pay respects.
Through the hardest years in the palace, Yang Zhao had been Ming Shu’s emotional anchor. While she found the emperor unworthy, she was certain her mother would adore Yang Zhao.
After all, he resembled her in appearance, was sweet-natured, and exceptionally bright—just the kind of clever child her mother loved.
Ming Shu took a photo of Yang Zhao and sent it to Lin Xi. Hearing Lin Xi praise his looks lifted Ming Shu’s spirits slightly.
While Ming Shu and her son shared a tender moment, Lin Xi drove home. After returning the car, she didn’t head back but instead went to a local used car dealership. She decided she absolutely needed a small van—it was too inconvenient without one.
The dealership had plenty of vans, but the business was notoriously shady. After some thought, Lin Xi called her second cousin, the daughter of her third aunt, who worked in car sales.
Before long, her cousin arrived.
"Why a van?" The two cousins kept in touch during holidays, so they were on good terms. Sometimes, when Chi Xiangping’s medicine ran out, Lin Xi would ask her cousin to help purchase more.
Her cousin was named Guo Baixue. Since childhood, her name had always stood out among the other kids, earning her the nickname "Snow White"—and she truly lived up to it with her fair complexion.
"I found a job as a warehouse keeper. It pays 3,500 yuan a month, with working hours from 10 a.m. to 5 p.m. The boss is abroad right now, so he asked me to come buy a car." Pingyuan City had only been a county town a decade ago but had since developed into a prefecture-level city. However, wages hadn’t quite caught up, with the average salary hovering around 3,500 yuan.
Guo Baixue knew that Lin Xi had returned this time with no intention of going back to the capital. She supported Lin Xi’s decision, but one couldn’t just sit idle without an income. Though the warehouse job didn’t pay much, it had regular hours. Guo Baixue nodded in approval. "That’s good. You’ll be able to come home after work. My second aunt won’t feel so lonely anymore."
As the two sisters chatted, they headed toward the used car dealership. The sellers were all familiar faces in the trade, people they’d cross paths with often. Lin Xi followed Guo Baixue the entire time, doing exactly as she was told without a single unnecessary question.
After buying the car, Guo Baixue drove off, while Lin Xi took the van to the warehouse, swapped it for her tricycle, and puttered her way home.
Parking the tricycle in the yard, she pulled out her phone and saw that Ming Shu had sent her a long string of messages.
Those deliberately buried memories surged back, suffocating her with discomfort. She found herself asking about the current situation of her closest friend.
[Palace Intrigue Ming Shu: Xiao Xi, can I ask about my friend’s situation? I really want to know how she’s doing. Her name is Lin Muxi. We were in the same class and dorm back in school. When the production crew came to recruit actors from our school, both of us got selected.]
[Later, when the company offered contracts, we signed together. After what happened to me—ending up here—what about her? How is she now?]
During their school days, Ming Shu and Lin Muxi had often been the top two in their major. After being chosen by the production crew, they’d been overjoyed, lying under the same blanket, dreaming about the future.
Both had shared the same starry-eyed dream. It wasn’t unusual—just as no soldier dreams of staying a private forever, those who studied dance longed for an audience. And becoming a celebrity meant standing in the spotlight.
[Earth Girl Lin Xi: I know Lin Muxi. She’s become a household-name actress now. My grandma watches her dramas every night without fail. A while back, I even stumbled across a clip of her winning the Best Actress award at the Magnolia Awards.]
Ming Shu felt a pang of melancholy upon reading the message, but she was genuinely happy for her friend. [Palace Intrigue Ming Shu: That’s wonderful. She’s achieved the dream we both shared.]
After sending that, she couldn’t help but wonder—what would have become of her if she hadn’t crossed over? Could she have realized that dream too?
Lost in thought, she only snapped back to reality when the group chat lit up again, joining the lively conversation.
Chi Xiangping had already prepared dinner. Over the meal, she was delighted to hear that Lin Xi had found a job close to home, allowing her to return every evening.
"From now on, I’ll get up early to make you breakfast before work. And when you come back, dinner will be ready." In Chi Xiangping’s mind, having a job meant never going hungry. Though she’d been happy when Lin Xi said she’d stay home to keep her company, a part of her had still felt uneasy.
Without work, rural life meant relying on small-scale farming—hardly enough to cover expenses, let alone save. Lin Xi had some savings, but what if an emergency arose?
Now that the debts were cleared, Lin Xi was also at the age for marriage. Chi Xiangping wanted to set aside a dowry for her.
Times had changed. A bride without a dowry would be looked down upon in her husband’s family.
"Alright," Lin Xi agreed with a smile.
Chi Xiangping then brought up the jeweler’s visit earlier that day. "The jeweler came today. He measured Cao’er’s neck and checked the design you wanted for the pet collar. He said he’d come by tomorrow to start working on it."
Gold and silver jewelry were valuable, and local customs dictated that the jeweler would stay at the client’s home during the crafting process, with the host providing meals.
"Perfect timing. I start work the day after tomorrow, so I’ll be home tomorrow." A pet collar wouldn’t take long anyway.
It had been years since anyone in the family had commissioned jewelry, so Chi Xiangping was excited. "I asked—silver’s cheap right now. I’ll have a bracelet made for you."
"You should get a few bracelets and rings for yourself too." The elderly women in their area preferred silver over gold. Chi Xiangping’s elder sister-in-law, just a few years older, wore two or three silver bracelets at once, along with rings on every finger. Among the old ladies of Lianhua Village, no one envied her more.
After a moment’s hesitation, Chi Xiangping agreed, though it pained her to spend the money. But with the debts cleared, dressing well would only earn praise for Lin Xi’s success. And when it came time to arrange a marriage, they could aim higher.
After dinner, Chi Xiangping settled in front of the TV, waiting for her daily drama to start. The entertainment industry hadn’t changed much—the same clichéd plots of "the female lead enduring endless abuse yet remaining kind to her tormentors" still dominated the screen.
Watching her grandmother, Lin Xi finally understood the target audience for those nonsensical shows. Turns out, it was the rural elderly all along.
The irony of her past criticisms boomeranged right back at her. Lin Xi could only sigh in resignation. Sharing the incident in the group chat had everyone in stitches.
Once the laughter died down, Xiang Qianlan recounted her recent experiences.
[60s Boxer Xiang Qianlan: Lately, I’ve been giving the Qin mother and son the same treatment they used to dish out to the original host—three beatings a day. Widow Liu hates me to the core. She’s been running out constantly—probably to scheme with her lover.]
[But Qin Aiguo? That man’s got issues. Right after I hit him, he asks if I’m hungry or tired, offering me food or rest. If I’m late with the beatings, he’ll even wander over to remind me.]
[It’s creeping me out. I’m half-expecting him to slip rat poison into my food.] Xiang Qianlan wasn’t afraid of a straight-up fight. What unnerved her were underhanded tactics.
Qin Aiguo’s recent behavior had her constantly looking over her shoulder.
The group chat responded with a row of ellipses. Finally, Ming Shu couldn’t hold back anymore: [Palace Intrigue Ming Shu: Have you considered… he might have Stockholm syndrome?]
When Ming Shu sent this message, she couldn’t help but admire her own memory. After all these years, she still hadn’t forgotten this slightly complicated term.
[1960s Boxer Xiang Qianlan: What the hell is this?] Xiang Qianlan stared blankly at the foreign-sounding term "Lexi disorder."
[Primitive Society’s Ahua: It means mental illness. The more others hit him, the more he likes the person hitting him—basically, a masochist?]
This explanation horrified Xiang Qianlan. In all her years, she had never encountered such a terrifying person. Unable to stay still, she stepped out of the house. Qin Aiguo had been unusually obedient these past few days, doing whatever he was told and even finding extra tasks to keep himself busy.
Before today, Xiang Qianlan had been convinced Qin Aiguo was biding his time to take revenge on her, keeping her guard up to the extreme.
But after some enlightenment from her group chat friends, she realized things weren’t quite as she’d imagined. Now, when Qin Aiguo stood up and looked at her, his eyes were shining like a puppy’s.
Damn it all. Xiang Qianlan sighed inwardly, then began puzzling over why Qin Aiguo had changed.
After some deep thought, it hit her—that morning when she went to wake him up, her little whip might have accidentally landed on his… lower regions.
Wasn’t this some BDSM nonsense? As a woman who preferred fists over words, Xiang Qianlan had been invited into that scene before. But since she had zero interest in such kinks, she’d firmly declined.
Who would’ve thought that, after all this time, she’d still ended up tangled with a masochist?
Feeling utterly exasperated, Xiang Qianlan climbed back onto the kang bed, pulled out a sickle, and solemnly typed in the group chat.
[1960s Boxer Xiang Qianlan: After some observation, it seems he has an S&M tendency—specifically, the M side. So here’s the problem: in this case, does hitting him just make him enjoy it more?]
Xiang Qianlan found this dilemma incredibly frustrating. In her entire life, she’d never faced a problem this confounding.
Normally, she’d just solve things with her fists.
[But if I hit him, wouldn’t that be giving him exactly what he wants? But if I don’t hit him, how am I supposed to get revenge for the original owner?]
