Sima Rusu’s previous life was named Chen Dong, one year younger than Lin Fang, and lived not far from Lin Fang’s home. They were classmates from elementary to middle school.
Her family was large, with many relatives. Naming her older sisters had been difficult—every name seemed to clash with someone else, even if the characters were different or just homophones. By the time it was her turn, her parents were at a loss. Since her father’s surname was Chen and her mother’s was Dong, they simply named her Chen Dong.
She was someone teachers both loved and found exasperating.
Academically, Chen Dong wasn’t as sharp as Lin Fang—one might even say she was a bit slow. But she was diligent and studious. From elementary to middle school, she and Lin Fang dominated the top two spots in class, alternating between first and second place.
Yet, she also loved fighting. Despite her small stature, she was fierce—even boys a head taller than her didn’t dare provoke her. In second grade, she once beat up a fifth-grade girl so badly that the girl dropped out of school, never finishing elementary.
Despite her love for brawling, Chen Dong wasn’t a bully. For some reason, she took a liking to Lin Fang, whose personality was the complete opposite of hers. She made Lin Fang her “protégée,” always rushing to her defense if anyone bullied her and often seeking her out to play. At first, Lin Fang was puzzled, but as they spent more time together, she realized Chen Dong wasn’t reckless at all—she was thoughtful, full of clever ideas, and had a cheerful personality. Gradually, Lin Fang grew fond of her too.
After every fight or chore, Chen Dong loved pouring a basin of water over her head, regardless of the season or whether she had any wounds. Then she’d shake her head, sending water droplets flying everywhere, just like Lin Fang’s dog, Qiuqiu.
Chen Dong was the youngest of six sisters, all close in age. Her parents were only concerned with having children, not raising them—aside from providing three meals a day and clothes, they left the kids to fend for themselves.
Back then, resources were scarce, and many went hungry. Meals in her house were like a battlefield—the sisters competed to eat as fast as possible. If you were slow, you’d barely get enough to fill your stomach. Despite being the youngest, Chen Dong usually managed to eat her fill.
During the high school entrance exams, Lin Fang fell ill and had to withdraw, failing to get into high school that year. After retaking the exams, she was admitted to the same school as Chen Dong but was a year behind. By then, Chen Dong was a sophomore and had changed in ways Lin Fang couldn’t understand. She still fought, but now she also smoked, drank, and swore constantly—though her grades hadn’t slipped.
By her senior year, tensions in Chen Dong’s family had escalated to the point of sisters turning on each other.
One day, Chen Dong came to Lin Fang and rambled on about how much she envied Lin Fang’s harmonious family. They talked until 1 a.m., when a patrolling teacher chased them out of the woods. After they parted, Chen Dong disappeared—Lin Fang never saw her again.
According to Chen Dong, after running away, she did all sorts of odd jobs—working as a maid, even begging at her lowest point. Once, when she was starving, she resorted to stealing. The last time she was caught, she lost her freedom—the thief who nabbed her was a master of the trade and forced her to become one of his many mistresses.
It was during this time that Chen Dong learned makeup, mastering techniques that rivaled professional artists.
Lin Fang tugged at Chen Dong’s white hair and asked, “So this appearance of yours is just makeup?”
Chen Dong grinned proudly. “Smart. This body is actually quite beautiful.”
“Then why do this? You know it doesn’t look good. Besides, this isn’t your past life—you can’t just disguise yourself freely here. If you turned yourself into a pig’s head, no one would care, but looking strange in this world is dangerous.” That was the real issue.
Chen Dong sighed. “It’s to survive. You think I enjoy all this?”
Every girl dreams of being an actress, and Chen Dong was no exception. Her transmigration, however, was utterly bizarre.
Her so-called “lover” was investing in a period drama and, impressed by her makeup skills, recommended her as the show’s makeup artist.
Many lead actors used stunt doubles for dangerous scenes. Eager to appear on screen, Chen Dong volunteered as a double. But after finishing her makeup, before she could reach the set, she suddenly collapsed—and woke up in Sima Rusu’s bed.
When she came to, Chen Dong found she had this body’s memories. She knew she was now Sima Rusu, a concubine-born daughter whose beauty and intelligence far outshone the dim-witted legitimate daughter. Favored by Lord Sima, she had repeatedly escaped assassination attempts by the Sima matriarch—until the woman replaced all of Rusu’s attendants, leaving her defenseless.
One winter, the matriarch’s servant pushed Rusu into a lake. By the time she was rescued, she was barely alive—the matriarch had even hired a mortician.
The servants, thinking Rusu dead, abandoned all pretense and fled, leaving only the mortician to prepare the body. When the “corpse” suddenly sat up, the terrified mortician bolted, leaving his tools behind—which Chen Dong happily took advantage of.
By the time Lord Sima rushed home, his daughter was a pale, sickly figure—and her condition only worsened.
No doctor in town could cure her. Worse, her appearance began to change—her once-striking features grew plain. The matriarch forced her to wear a veil, which suited Chen Dong’s need to hide. That’s why Lord Sima said he hadn’t seen his daughter’s face in so long.
*”A hero dies before his triumph, leaving tears in history’s eyes.”* Lin Fang laughed. “But you? You died before even starting. Guess acting wasn’t your destiny.”
“Don’t laugh at me. What’s with your feet? So tiny—don’t tell me they’re bound. Did you really become a local?”
Lin Fang sighed. “I’m worried too. My body grew, but my feet didn’t.”
“Fine, we’re even. I never became an actress in my past life, but this past year, I’ve been acting every day as a stand-in. It’s exhausting. Now that I’m out, I’m never going back to the Sima family. You’ve got to help me put on one last act.”
“How?”
“Come closer.”
After whispering, Lin Fang chuckled. “Back then, you’d rather get beaten bloody than beg for mercy. Now you kneel so easily—addicted to it?”
Chen Dong sighed. “Blame my bad luck—reborn as a concubine’s daughter, always getting punished. If this works, I swear I’ll never kneel again.”
When summer break began, Qi Biao only visited occasionally. But soon, it was as if he’d taken root in the Lin household—arriving early, leaving late, never missing a day. Even when idle, he seemed content just sitting quietly.
When Lord Sima learned Qi Biao was the Qi family’s head, he eagerly tried to engage him. But Qi Biao remained aloof, his icy demeanor making even the summer heat feel like winter.
Feeling sorry for him, when Lord Sima asked about Qi Biao, Lin Fang’s elder brother explained that Qi Biao had always been distant, even as a child. He admitted he didn’t know much—Qi Biao was just his elder brother’s classmate, now studying in Shengcheng while looking after the younger brother. Lord Sima didn’t buy it but didn’t press further.
In the schoolyard, after explaining the desk designs to the carpenters, Lin Fang sat down for tea. Sima Rusu, who had been standing quietly nearby, suddenly asked, “Sister Lin, what do the words on the classroom sign say?”
“Classroom,” Lin Fang replied.
“And the restroom?”
“Teacher’s room.”
“The kitchen?”
“Cafeteria.”
“The gate?”
“Lin Family Tutoring.”
After asking about every sign, Rusu fell silent, then whispered, “Sister Lin, may I ask a favor? Could you write my name for me? I’d like to know what it looks like—so this trip wasn’t wasted.”
“Of course.” Lin Fang picked up a brush. “I’ll write your name, age, and birthdate too.”
Strangely, just like in their past lives, Rusu was one year and three months younger than Lin Fang.
“Thank you, Sister Lin.” Rusu carefully tucked the paper away.
Excited, she returned to her temporary quarters, clumsily grinding ink and spilling it everywhere. Then, gripping a brush awkwardly, she tried copying her name—but with no experience, the strokes were messy, ink splattering the table and floor.
“Rusu, did you write all these?”
Lord Sima entered to find the floor littered with papers, each bearing barely legible versions of “Sima Rusu.” He had long argued that Rusu needed a tutor, but his wife insisted she was too young. Now, seeing his daughter teaching herself—undoubtedly with Lin Fang’s help—he was stunned.
Startled, Rusu’s brush snapped, splattering ink everywhere—including Lord Sima’s pristine robe, now a monochrome masterpiece. She dropped to her knees. “Forgive me, Father! I only wanted to know how my name was written. Sister Lin showed me, and I tried copying it—I didn’t mean to ruin your things.”
Ignoring his ruined robe, Lord Sima asked, “Rusu, do you wish to attend school?”
She froze. “Father…?”
He pulled her up, stiffly smoothing her ink-stained dress—a gesture so unfamiliar it terrified her. Her father had never been this close before.
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