Chapter 3: Wei Zhuxin

If someone were to ask her, "Were you content with your life?"

Fang Zhuxin would nod and say 'yes' without any hesitation. She was born in a good family. Her parents and brother loved her and treated her well, and she was even married to a wonderful man who loved her wholeheartedly. Ever since she was born, she was blessed to live a good life.

She died peacefully at the age of 83, and that was already a blessing to die a peaceful death at an old age.

However, if someone were to ask her, "Do you have any regrets?"

Fang Zhuxin would smile and simply say 'yes'. Although she was blessed with a good family that raised her, a great man to love her, and wealth for her to enjoy her life without any worries, she never had the blessing to have a child of her own.

She regretted that her body wasn't well enough to bear a child for her husband. Despite the lack of heir, her husband had never tried to make her feel like she wasn't good enough. With her supporting husband by her side, no amount of criticism could drown her dead.

The more he was understanding of her, the more she felt like she owed him.

Fang Zhuxin wanted to have a child of her own with him the most. Unfortunately, before she met him, she was once married to a scumbag who caused her to have miscarriage twice. Due to that horrible experience, her body couldn't handle the stress and wasn't fit to give birth anymore.

She thought, if there was a next life, she would want to be with her old man again. And this time, she wished to give birth to her own child with him.

That would be her ultimate wish.

Surprisingly, God did give her a chance to live again.

Fang Zhuxin opened her eyes to darkness and an unfamiliar ceiling. Her first thought was that she should be dead. She remembered it clearly—the long years of living with her husband, the peaceful life they had shared, and the way she had passed away at the age of 85 with no pain. Everything had been so calm. So why was she awake now? Her heart beat faster as she tried to make sense of her surroundings. The air was thick with the smell of damp earth and wood, far removed from the clean and elegant home she had spent her last days in.

Slowly, she pushed herself up, blinking as her eyes adjusted to the dim light. She was lying on a hard surface—some sort of raised platform covered with a rough blanket. It wasn't a bed as she had known it, but something made of brick and clay. Her fingers brushed against the blanket, and she noted how coarse the fabric was, how scratchy it felt against her skin. Her hands looked different, too. Thinner, younger, and the nails were rough around the edges. Her gaze trailed down to the rest of her body, her thin wrists, the clothes that didn't fit with her memories—a simple, patched tunic far removed from the comfortable silk robes she had worn in her old life.

"What is this…?" Her voice came out as a whisper, hoarse and unused, as if it hadn't been heard in days.

A chill crept up her spine as she shifted her body and felt the aching stiffness of muscles unused for days. Something was terribly wrong. She swung her legs over the side of the kang bed and slowly stood up, her legs shaky but functional. The small room around her was dimly lit by the first light of dawn filtering through a small, cracked window. It was sparse, barely furnished with an old wooden table in the corner, a few stools, and a rough-hewn wardrobe. The air was musty, the scent of earth and damp wood mingling in the air. She could hear the distant sounds of people outside—a rooster crowing, the muffled sounds of children, the clatter of someone working in the yard. But there was no one in the room with her.

"I...I'm not dead?" she murmured to herself, her voice trembling slightly.

She caught a glimpse of her reflection in the cracked mirror on the wall, her heart nearly stopping. The face staring back at her wasn't her own. It was a young girl's face, with dark eyes that held confusion and fear, the cheeks sunken from illness or hunger. She lifted her hands to her face, running her fingers over unfamiliar skin, and felt her pulse quicken. This wasn't her body.

Shock rushed through her like a wave. Her breathing became uneven, her thoughts spinning wildly as she tried to understand what was happening. She stumbled back toward the bed, her hands shaking.

What was this? Where was she?

Fang Zhuxin took a deep breath, steadying herself as best as she could. She had always been the type to face things head-on, no matter how shocking. And she had to figure this out. She closed her eyes and focused, trying to calm her racing heart.

Suddenly, a sharp pain struck her head, like a hammer cracking through her skull. She gasped, clutching her head as memories—memories that weren't hers—flooded her mind. Faces, names, places, images of a life that didn't belong to her.

Her name wasn't Fang Zhuxin anymore.

She was Wei Zhuxin now, a 15-year-old girl living in Zhengjian Village, born into a poor farming family. Her father was Wei Erqing, and her mother, Wu Shi. They were not well-off, not by a long shot. The family lived hand to mouth, struggling to get by on the little land they owned. Wei Zhuxin was the eldest daughter, and she had two younger siblings—a younger sister and brother. Her family had fallen on hard times, and her mother had given birth to a son after two daughters, which meant her value in the household had increased somewhat. But the family's struggles were constant, their lives hard.

And just recently, Wei Zhuxin—the original one—had fallen ill. She had developed a fever that had lasted several days, and during that time, her body had weakened to the point where she couldn't get out of bed.

Fang Zhuxin—no, Wei Zhuxin now—groaned softly as the last pieces of memory clicked into place. Her heart pounded in her chest, but she forced herself to stay calm. Somehow, she had been reborn into the body of this young girl, this Wei Zhuxin, and the original soul was gone.

Her old life flashed in her mind—the comfortable home she had shared with her husband, the long years they had spent together. The gentle smile of her old man appeared vividly in her mind, and she felt a pang of longing so sharp it almost took her breath away. He had loved her so dearly, never once blaming her for their lack of children. She had always regretted not being able to give him a child, and now...now she was here, far away from him, in a life that wasn't hers.

Tears welled up in her eyes, but she blinked them back. No. She couldn't afford to cry right now. She had to think, to figure out what was happening. Was there a way back? Would she ever see him again? The thoughts whirled through her mind, but before she could dwell on them, the sound of footsteps pulled her attention toward the door.

The door creaked open, and two small figures appeared—children. The girl was no older than ten, her face thin and pale, while the boy was even younger, maybe around six or seven. Both of them looked as malnourished as the memories had told her. Their eyes were wide as they peered at her, hesitant but relieved to see her awake.

"Jiejie!" the little boy cried out, running toward her and wrapping his arms around her legs. His small body shook with emotion. "You're awake! We thought you were going to...to…"

The girl, a little older, stepped forward more cautiously. "Jiejie, are you feeling better? Mother said you had a fever for days…"

Fang—no, Wei Zhuxin—looked down at the two children, her heart softening. These were the original owner's younger siblings. The little boy was Wei Zhinan, the precious younger brother the family had longed for, and the girl was Wei Zhiqiao, her younger sister. Their faces were etched with worry, but there was also a flicker of hope in their eyes.

For a moment, Wei Zhuxin didn't know what to say. The overwhelming rush of memories, the weight of this new life, and the deep, aching loss of her old life left her feeling adrift. But seeing these two children, who clearly depended on her, grounded her.

She knelt down, placing a gentle hand on Zhinan's head and giving him a soft smile. "I'm okay now," she said quietly, her voice a little unsteady but filled with warmth. "Don't worry."

Zhiqiao hesitated, then stepped closer. "Jiejie, you were sick for so long...we didn't know what to do."

Wei Zhuxin nodded, her mind still spinning but slowly beginning to settle. She didn't know how she had ended up here, or what this new life held for her. But one thing was clear: she was needed here. And as much as she missed her husband, as much as she longed for her old life, she couldn't abandon these children.

"I'm sorry I made you worry," she said softly, pulling both of them into a gentle embrace. "But I'm awake now. I'll take care of you."

The children nodded, their small arms wrapping around her as if they were afraid she might disappear again.

Wei Zhuxin's heart ached.

Though she just met them, she was also their older sister now. Wei Zhuxin could not bear to let them down.

Since this was now her life, she would do her best to cherish this opportunity. It was just that..

'Chuan.. I hope you're here by my side..'