A wave of memories

Hua Jing's vision blurred.

A sharp, piercing pain shot through her skull, striking like a bolt of lightning. She staggered, her fingers grasping at the splintered wooden frame of the doorway.

What—?

Her breath hitched.

Another wave of pain slammed into her, and this time, she nearly collapsed.

"My lady!" Xia Lin's voice was distant, frantic, but Hua Jing barely registered it.

Something else had taken hold of her.

Something powerful.

Something overwhelming.

Her pulse pounded in her ears as flashes of something—no, memories—crashed through her mind like an unstoppable flood.

A girl, curled in the corner of this very room, her small frame shaking.

Her hands were raw, bruised from hours of scrubbing floors, from dragging heavy buckets of water that had spilled and frozen over in the winter cold. Her thin robes barely shielded her from the biting wind that seeped through the cracks of the walls.

"Filthy child."