Recalling

What is this? Why is she seeing these things?

Suppressing her discomfort, she made an excuse about a headache and returned to her room. Before long, there was a soft knock at the door.

A servant brought in a bowl of black medicinal liquid and placed it on the nightstand, her tone respectful: "The old mistress has ordered that you drink this, Miss; it will make you feel better." With that, she turned and left, closing the door behind her.

She looked down at the pitch-black liquid. Hesitantly, she picked up the bowl, but just as she was about to take a sip, a sharp, stabbing pain suddenly pierced her mind!

Her fingers loosened, the bowl fell, and the black liquid splashed onto her pillow. She instinctively grabbed the pillow, but her peripheral vision caught a glimpse of black beneath.

She whipped the pillow away, her pupils shrinking instantly—

A black notebook lay there quietly.

Her heart felt as if it had stopped. She opened the front cover, and familiar handwriting met her eyes:

"My name is Yun Xian."

"Elevator... mission... old mistress... Zhang Jingyi's gender swap... the amnesiac Song Ran... the master, the kitchen, and the maid..."

"Find the Zhang couple."

Page after page, the writing was messy yet clear. Each line was like a rusted dagger, suddenly thrust into her mind, tearing open a breach in the memories that had been tampered with and buried.

She closed her eyes, her breathing ragged. Enduring the intense pain in her temples, the scenes in her memory flooded her consciousness like a dam breaking.

She snapped her eyes open, her pupils contracting.

She was not Zhang Pandi; she had never been. She had almost completely forgotten her true identity!

Yun Xian recalled the scene downstairs earlier and the face of the slightly chubby man surfaced in her mind.

She finally knew why she felt that man was "familiar." He was Li Zhiqiang, one of the mission participants who had entered this world alongside Song Ran.

But why had he become the madam's lover?

Had his memories... also been tampered with?

If so, there was only one person left who hadn't appeared yet...

She thought of that blurred face—the young man with an unremarkable air, someone so plain he was easily overlooked.

Yun Xian narrowed her eyes, quickly adjusting her breathing and composing her expression. She then carefully tucked the notebook back under the pillow.

However, just as she lifted her head, a very faint sound of footsteps came from outside the door. It was as if someone had paused there for a moment before slipping away in silence.

Her gaze darkened slightly, and cold sweat trickled down her cheeks.

Yun Xian sat still for a while. Only when the corridor outside had returned to complete silence did she rise and gently push open the door.

The hallway was dim, with only the distant wall lamps casting a ghostly yellow light that made the wooden floor look gray. She walked down the stairs barefoot, taking each step with extreme caution, fearing she might disturb something.

Only two people remained in the living room—the old mistress and Song Ran.

The old mistress sat sipping tea with a calm expression. Song Ran sat beside her, holding a book, his movements of turning the pages slow and restrained.

Seeing Yun Xian approach, Song Ran looked up slightly and greeted her indifferently: "Get some rest early."

He closed his book, stood up, placed it back on the shelf, and walked upstairs with a steady, unhurried gait.

As he passed by Yun Xian, he paused for a moment.

Yun Xian felt his gaze land on her.

In that instant, her nerves tightened, and her fingers curled slightly.

Song Ran said nothing; he simply looked at her before turning and continuing up the stairs.

The look in his eyes was strange—not one of concern, nor of warning, but rather like a deliberate probe.

She frowned slightly and stood rooted to the spot.

"Pandi."

The old mistress’s voice rang out then, gentle and calm: "Sit with Grandma for a while."

Yun Xian turned to find the old mistress looking up at her, her eyes soft and a faint smile playing on her lips. She was still holding her teacup, and the incense burner beside her emitted a faint sandalwood scent, casting a soothing aroma into the night air.

There was no one else in the living room, and the air was unnaturally quiet.

Yun Xian was on high alert, though she didn't show it. She nodded gently and walked over to sit opposite the old mistress. Her back was rigid, her hands resting on her knees with her fingertips curled inward.

The old mistress placed her teacup on the table and reached out to take her hand. Her palm was dry and cold, possessing the rough texture left by the passage of time.

Yun Xian’s heart tightened, but she did not pull away, merely lowering her gaze to look at the old woman.

The old mistress’s thumb rubbed gently against the back of her hand, as if comforting her, or perhaps reminiscing.

A moment later, she spoke slowly: "Grandma married into the Zhang family when I was sixteen."

Her tone was gentle, as if recalling a distant past.

"Back then, the Zhang family wasn't as prosperous as it is now. There were many rules in the house, and my mother-in-law was strict. Every day, I had to learn how to be a proper wife and daughter-in-law."

She sighed softly, her voice tinged with exhaustion: "My whole life has been spent like this, toiling for this family, worrying about these children and grandchildren. Now... I can finally catch my breath."

Yun Xian lowered her eyes, not responding, simply listening in silence.

She didn't understand why the old mistress would suddenly tell her these things, nor did she understand what "finally catch my breath" meant.

But she dared not ask.

She could only follow the old mistress's lead and say softly: "You've worked hard, Grandma."

The old mistress smiled slightly, released her hand, and took a small sip of tea.

The living room was quiet, save for the faint sloshing of the tea. Yun Xian observed the old mistress's expression discreetly, but could detect nothing unusual.

Finally, the old mistress set down her cup and slowly rose, leaning on her cane.

She glanced at Yun Xian and said slowly: "Get some rest early."

With those words, she began her slow ascent up the stairs. Her pace was neither fast nor slow, and the sound of her cane striking the wooden steps was exceptionally clear in the night.

Yun Xian sat on the sofa, not moving immediately.

She watched silently as the old mistress’s back disappeared upstairs, a sense of inexplicable doubt rising in her heart.

What had actually happened to Li Zhiqiang and the madam?

Everything in this house seemed to be orchestrated by an invisible hand in an orderly fashion, and she had yet to grasp the rules.

She sat on the sofa for a long time, until the night outside grew even deeper, before she finally regained her senses and headed back to her room.

The next day, when Yun Xian went downstairs, the light in the living room was soft and tranquil, and the air was filled with the aroma of breakfast.

Her footsteps faltered.

Sitting on the sofa was a strange girl.

She looked young, dressed in a simple, plain dress. Her jet-black hair was combed neatly, and she sat quietly with her hands folded on her knees, her expression so calm that it was unsettling.

Beside her sat the old mistress, her expression as gentle as ever.

On the other side of the living room, Zhang Jingyi—or rather, the gender-swapped Zhang Jingyi—sat quietly.

Her skin was paler than yesterday, the contours of her features had become more rigid, and even the expression between her brows carried a strange sense of repression.

But what truly made Yun Xian’s heart skip a beat was the face of the strange girl.

Her gaze fixed on the girl's face, and a powerful, sudden sense of familiarity surged from the depths of her heart.