1966, May, Shanghai.

Late spring, early summer. The sycamore trees already stretched their green leaves over both sides of the street, creating a leafy canopy. The air carried a mix of the camphor trees' fragrance, the sweetness of roses, and that sticky, muggy heat. Overhead, thick clouds gathered, heavy with the threat of a downpour.

Fiona Benton's family mansion.

Fiona sat on the couch in the living room, a teacup in her left hand and a cat toy in her right. A tiny kitten, barely two months old, bounced around, chasing the toy with uncoordinated enthusiasm.

As she sipped her tea, her thoughts drifted back to four years ago.

Back then, she had been surviving in a post-apocalyptic world. The fight with the zombie king had caused such a massive energy explosion that it tore through space and time, dragging her into its vortex. "Little Nine," her space spirit, used the last of its strength to send her to the relative safety of the 1960s—another life entirely. She replaced someone else and became the only "young lady" of the Benton family in Shanghai.

She'd only spent a month in this world when Mr. Benton summoned her for a serious conversation. Without much preamble, the old man said he wanted her to take over as head of the family and even told her where the Benton family treasure was hidden.

She said, "Maybe you should think this through a bit more."

He looked at her carefully before finally revealing a secret he had kept for 12 years.

Twelve years ago, while taking Fiona on a trip, he had run into an elderly man pleading for help.The old man showed up with an eight-year-old kid. The boy was skinny as a twig, burning up with a high fever, his cheeks flushed deep red. The old man had run out of money, and he begged Mr. Benton to save his young apprentice.

Mr. Benton, thinking it would be good karma for Fiona, took the boy to a doctor and gave the old man a decent sum of money.

Afterward, the old man looked at Fiona for a moment, then said, “This girl’s soul isn’t from this world. One day, she’ll face trials in another realm. When she becomes an adult, her soul will return to its destined path, and she will be the only hope for her family.”

With that, the old man left, taking the boy with him. Mr. Benton had always felt Fiona was sharper and more grounded than other kids her age. She picked up new things incredibly fast. After hearing the old man’s words, he became even more determined to nurture her potential.

From then on, he kept her close, teaching her everything himself. Watching Fiona grow into someone so remarkable over time only made him believe the old man’s prediction even more.

Fiona was a bit taken aback as she pieced it all together—it turned out she was the original soul, and the original soul was her.

Thinking about it, she said with subtle honesty, “I might come across as a bit forceful.”

Mr. Benton snorted, “What of it? Are you planning to throw this old man out of the house?”

“Of course not.”

“As long as this old bag of bones can enjoy a peaceful old age, that’s more than enough. As for those useless fools, who cares?”

And just like that, with Mr. Benton standing firm against all objections, Fiona officially became the new head of the Benton family.Within just a month of taking over, Fiona Benton cleaned house, rooting out all the freeloaders leeching off the Benton family. Old Mr. Benton watched her stern crackdown and couldn't help but chuckle. "I'm getting old," he mused. "The youngsters really do have more fight in 'em!"

Two months later, Mr. Benton reached the end of his days.

Before passing, he handed Fiona a list. It detailed names, positions, and regions. He told her, "These folks owe the Benton family a favor. If you ever find yourself in a bind, don't hesitate to ask them for help."

The Benton family was known as red capitalists, with Mr. Benton in particular earning a reputation in Shen City as a generous benefactor. Over the years, he had lent a helping hand to countless people and actively supported the state's public-private partnerships after the country's founding, even donating most of his wealth. When he passed, officials from as far as Beijing came to pay their respects.

"Meow," came a small voice, cutting through the heavy atmosphere. "I'm tired. I don't wanna play anymore."

"Meow... Boss."

"Meow!" The tiny cat form of Nine tugged at Fiona's pants with its paw, clearly upset. It didn't plan on forgiving her anytime soon, either. Hmph!

Fiona scooped up Nine, placing the cat on her lap. Her right hand traced gentle strokes along its soft fur. The little creature melted under her touch, stretching out lazily and exposing its fluffy belly, its purring a low, contented hum.

Her mental aptitude and spatial abilities had crossed time with her. The space within held a spiritual spring, capable of storing and preserving items, with especially remarkable restorative effects.The space was shrouded in a hazy mist, only revealing glimpses of where Fiona Benton stored various goods and the Benton family's treasures. Little Nine, unwilling to stay in the confined space, begged Fiona to let it shift into a cat form, so it could move freely in the human world.

Little Nine complained, "A cat? Come on, that doesn’t match my true power! I want to be a tiger—now that’s impressive!"

Fiona shot back, "Who keeps a tiger as a pet? Pick something normal. Remember, you're a pet, not a wild animal."

Little Nine turned its head away, expressing its dissatisfaction with silence.

"What about a dog?" Fiona proposed casually. She had always been fond of dogs for their loyalty and respect for boundaries.

Little Nine shuddered as images of street dogs scavenging for scraps flashed through its mind. "Cat! I'll take the cat!" It quickly changed its tune, terrified of being stuck as a stray.

And so, Little Nine became a cat.

Once in cat form, it stuck by Fiona's side relentlessly.

Inwardly, Little Nine kicked itself—why hadn’t it agreed to this sooner? Being a cat meant staying close to its boss and getting to eat meat. How had it overlooked such a brilliant idea before?

＊

"Mrs. Flynn, could you please prepare some osmanthus pork, eight treasure duck, and salty meat rice?"

"Jackson, go pick up some double-filled rice balls and some strip cakes."Dusk was settling in as Fiona Benton stepped out, a small cat resting on her shoulder. Jackson Benton followed closely behind, carrying a food box stuffed with dishes and a bundle of paper money.

When they reached the cemetery, Fiona carefully arranged the food she brought, lighting candles and incense with steady hands.

Jackson, standing solemnly, finished paying his respects to Mr. Benton with a bow and three sticks of incense.

"You wait over there for me," Fiona said casually.

"Got it!" he answered and stepped aside without hesitation.

The sky was heavy with dark clouds, but no rain fell. It only made the surroundings feel even darker and more somber.

Fiona sat down in front of the tombstone, the faint light from the candle casting a soft golden glow on her face.

"Well, Grandpa, I’m here," she started, her voice calm yet carrying a depth of emotion.

"Brought your favorites—Eight Treasure Duck and salted pork rice," she added with a half-smile. "Why’d you leave so soon?"

"You realize the mess you left me, don’t you? Couldn’t have been any bigger if you tried."

"And that fine son-in-law and the others from the side family? Yeah, they think they can snatch the family head position from me."

As if on cue, the candle’s flame flickered wildly, crackling like it had a life of its own. Fiona watched it but made no comment, a faint smirk playing on her lips. It reminded her of her grandfather—how he used to puff up in fury, his temper as big as his spirit.

Meanwhile, the little cat that had perched quietly on her shoulder had moved closer to the food. Now, it was sitting right next to the duck, staring at it with shining eyes, practically drooling. Fiona reached out and gave it a soft pat on the head. The cat recoiled slightly, looking displeased but climbed back onto her shoulder nonetheless, settling down again.

Watching the incense slowly burn down, Fiona began lighting the paper money and offerings with a deliberate pace, her movements smooth and unhurried.

"What’s the rush?" she muttered softly. "Don’t trust me, huh?"The flames gradually settled down.

"Can’t grow new flesh without clearing out the rotten parts first."

"Grandpa, sorry about this!"

"I’ve got to do what’s necessary, even if it’s against family."

"Give me a sign if you’ve got no objections."

Right as Fiona finished speaking, the fire popped and crackled, then grew quiet again, the flickering flames carrying a bleak, lifeless feel.

"I'm leaving Shanghai. It’ll be a long time before I return."

"Let me burn some extra offerings for you."

…

Before leaving, Fiona knelt in front of the tombstone and bowed her head three times.

As the candles and incense burned out completely, rain began to fall in heavy drops like paratroopers landing, pounding against the ground not a moment later.

At the Benton residence,

The rain was pouring relentlessly outside.

Fiona had packed up a large suitcase. Inside were over twenty neatly wrapped brown paper packages, each with a name written clearly on it.

These were severance payments for loyal followers of hers and her grandfather. Her principles were simple—she would never treat those who stood by her poorly.

"You should write to your brother tomorrow, see what plans he has for you."

Jackson stayed silent for a moment. He reached into the suitcase, pulled out the package with his name on it, and slammed it down on the table. "I’m not leaving!" he said firmly. She turned and stormed off without even glancing at Fiona Benton’s reaction.

Not far from the elegant villa, some other members of the Benton family gathered, whispering amongst themselves as they finalized a plan in secrecy.

Soon after, Jackson Benton hurried back, handed Fiona a small note, and then bolted out as though he were fleeing from something.

The note carried just four words: "Action tomorrow morning."

Fiona’s lips curled into a faint, cold smile. "Alright, let's see what you've got."

Then, she grabbed the seal on the desk and started carving it with her razor-sharp mental power, bit by intricate bit.

Around ten minutes later, two identical seals appeared before her, perfectly replicated.

Her almond-shaped eyes shimmered with an icy chill that cut deep.