The Chu Kingdom Dynasty.

Outside the city, the wild grass grew thick and ragged. Cold crows circled overhead, their cries harsh and mournful, enough to make the wasteland feel even bleaker.

A young woman lay unconscious in the grass.

She was stunningly beautiful, her skin smooth as cream, pale as fresh snow. A few ruffians stood around her, rubbing their hands together, their eyes shining with naked greed as they lunged at her like beasts ready to tear her apart whole.

The woman, though still half lost in unconsciousness, seemed to catch the scent of danger. Her brows drew tight. Then her eyes flew open. Acting on pure instinct, she twisted aside and dodged the burly man charging at her, spun in one clean motion, and stamped one foot hard onto his back. A chill flashed through her eyes as she let out a scornful sneer.

"Overestimating yourself."

Seraphina Blackwell’s head throbbed so badly it felt like it might split apart, and something fierce and violent seemed to be clawing its way up from her chest.

She clearly remembered soaking in a bathtub.

So how had she ended up here?

The moment the words left her mouth, a heavy force knocked her over. The burly man scrambled up from the ground and stared at her with a filthy grin.

"Way more fun when she’s awake, brothers."

As the hulking men closed in on her step by step, alarm bells rang in Seraphina’s mind. Something was very wrong with this body. She should not have been this weak.

She lowered her head and looked at herself. She was wearing a purple dress that brushed her ankles, and the bit of arm exposed beneath the sleeve was covered in bruises and cuts.

This was not her hand.

She had been a top agent, a living legend in her field. After hundreds of missions, she had never once been injured.

One of the thugs could not wait any longer and threw himself at her. Seraphina dodged again. The peachwood hairpin slipped from her loose bun, and in an instant her dark hair cascaded down her back like a waterfall of ink.

That devastatingly beautiful face made the men freeze for half a breath.

Seraphina seized the opening. She snatched up the peachwood pin, rushed forward, and drove it straight into the eye of the man in front.

Blood splashed everywhere.

The man clutched his face and screamed in agony.

With that strike, blood had been drawn, and the fighting instinct sleeping in Seraphina’s bones woke all at once. The corner of her lips curved into a cold, bloodthirsty smile. She moved like a flash of lightning, striking straight at the thugs’ vital points.

In barely the blink of an eye, all of them had been brought down. Once their weak points were hit, not one of them could gather the strength to resist again.

"Young Miss, please spare our worthless lives! We were only doing as we were told! It was Second Miss who ordered us to do this! We beg you, have mercy and let us go!" The ruffians pointed in panic toward the brightly dressed woman behind them.

"A bunch of useless trash!" Isolde Blackwell snapped in fury. She glared at Seraphina Blackwell, shock flashing through her eyes. She had not expected this woman to still be alive.

And the instant Seraphina saw Isolde, a monstrous wave of hatred surged up from the bottom of her heart.

A savage headache split her skull open, and memories that did not belong to her came crashing in like a flood.

The legitimate eldest daughter of the General’s Manor, born a fool. A vicious concubine-born younger sister. A wedding. A scheme. A body abandoned in the wild...

She pressed hard against her throbbing head, forcing herself to sort through the torrent of memories. Only then did she understand—she had crossed into the body of the General’s Manor’s legitimate eldest miss, Seraphina Blackwell.

A noble-born young lady, foolish since birth, tormented by her malicious half-sister. On the very day of her marriage, she had been plotted against with the help of outsiders, murdered miserably, then left exposed in the wasteland.

A surge of grief and fury rose in her chest, so sharp it felt as if it came from the soul itself: I never wished harm on anyone, so why did I end like this? They deceived me, trampled me, humiliated me. This hatred cannot be shared under the same sky.

Every scene the original owner had suffered seemed to pass before her eyes, and she felt each one as if it had happened to her own body. She pressed a hand to her heart and said silently, I will avenge you.

Seeing Seraphina Blackwell with her head lowered, looking as though she were in agony, Isolde Blackwell sneered to herself. So that burst of fierceness just now was nothing but a last flash before death. She let out a cold laugh. "You’re trash. A fool. What right do you have to match the Regent Prince?"

When Seraphina Blackwell lifted her head again, her gaze was already clear and sharp. She walked forward step by step toward the still-chattering Isolde Blackwell.

"Isolde Blackwell, as a concubine-born daughter, you never kept your place. You joined hands with outsiders to torture and kill your elder legitimate sister. Cruel, vicious, rotten to the bone. Even death would be too light for you."

Before Isolde Blackwell could even react, the person in front of her flashed to her side and clamped a hand around her throat. Seraphina Blackwell’s five fingers curved like iron hooks around her neck. "You wanted to know why? Fine. I’ll tell you."

Isolde Blackwell’s face turned a dark purplish red. She used all her strength to claw and beat at Seraphina Blackwell’s hand, but Seraphina Blackwell did not move an inch. With a cold, mocking laugh, she said, "Because I, Seraphina Blackwell, was born higher than you. And from the start, I was better than you."