Chapter 1: That Huge Imperial City?!

Shen Mo’er dozed off in a daze, but quickly woke up again.

In just that brief moment of closing her eyes, she had a nightmare—she dreamt of rebel troops breaking into the prince’s manor and storming into the treasure vault. Every single one of them held a blood-drenched blade, ready to chop off the heads of the so-called “dog prince and dog commandery princess”—her and her father.

In the dream, just before the rebels’ blades came down, her father’s greatest ability in his life—crying poverty while clinging to the Emperor Uncle’s leg and tricking him out of countless gold, silver, and rare treasures—proved useless. The poor prince was so terrified that his eyes rolled back, and he fainted on the spot.

She rushed forward, trying to grab him, but a rebel’s blade swung down, and she woke with a fright.

“Mo’er, you’re awake?”

Shen Shaoyuan’s voice rang out in the darkness. Soon after, a flame lit the darkness—Shen Shaoyuan had lit a candle.

Shen Mo’er rubbed her eyes and glanced at Shen Shaoyuan’s concerned face in the candlelight. She nodded. “Just dozed off for a bit.”

Though her father was timid and afraid of death, he genuinely treated her well. So, having dreamed that he fainted in terror—such a trivial matter—wasn’t something worth telling him.

“Father, let’s put out the candle. We don’t know how long we’ll have to squat in this treasure vault, so let’s conserve what we can,” she said.

After dismissing the servants, the two of them had moved a good amount of supplies into the treasure vault. But with no idea how long they’d have to stay hidden, even the most plentiful resources had to be rationed carefully.

Shen Shaoyuan was thirty-six years old—by Great Liang’s reckoning, already middle-aged. But as a leisurely prince sheltered by his brother, the emperor, his days were carefree. He wasn’t indulgent in drink or women, preferring music, chess, calligraphy, and painting. His healthy lifestyle kept him well-preserved, looking more like a handsome young gentleman than a father—more like Mo’er’s older brother than her dad.

After a few days squatting in the vault, worried and sleepless, dark circles had appeared under Shen Shaoyuan’s eyes. He studied his beloved daughter’s rosy face carefully. Once he was sure she looked healthy, he asked, “Listen—do you hear anything outside?”

With that reminder, Shen Mo’er noticed it too.

Their treasure vault was hidden behind the rockery in the garden—quite concealed—but they could still hear sounds from outside. Ever since they’d hidden here, day and night were filled with chaos—wails, screams, distant sounds of fighting. There hadn’t been a single moment of silence like now. Not a single sound.

“How long’s it been quiet?” Shen Mo’er asked.

“A little while,” Shen Shaoyuan replied.

The two exchanged a glance. A mutual sense of dread arose in their hearts: the imperial city had likely fallen to the rebels.

Shen Shaoyuan began to cry. “Oh, I don’t know what’s become of your Emperor Uncle. My brother was always too softhearted. How can an emperor be soft with foreign tribes? Just because they flattered him a little, he released them! He let the tiger return to the mountain! I told him! I told him that was letting the tiger return to the mountain!”

“Even hiding here won’t help. If the rebels entered the manor and searched seriously, they’d definitely find us. Sob sob sob… your Emperor Uncle being soft is one thing, but he’s dragged us down with him too!”

“We’re imperial kin of the main line. Even if we knelt and begged, the rebels wouldn’t spare us! Sob sob sob… my poor little Mo’er! Just coming of age, in the bloom of youth, and about to become a ghost under the rebels’ blades!”

Shen Mo’er: “…”

Truthfully, she had been quite scared too. But after hearing her father cry like that, she wasn’t scared anymore.

“If the rebels really took the city, it wouldn’t be this quiet. Foreign invaders would definitely loot and burn,” she muttered. “Could reinforcements have arrived? No… even if they did, it wouldn’t be this quiet.”

Shen Shaoyuan found her reasoning sound. He wiped his tears and said cautiously, “Should we open the door and take a look?”

Shen Mo’er glanced at the water clock. “Let’s wait until nightfall.”

“Alright. We’ll do as you say.”

They sat back in the corner and waited until You hour (5–7 PM), then carefully cracked open the door.

By now, it should have been dark. But as soon as they opened the door, a blinding light shone through. They squinted against the brightness. When their eyes adjusted, both were stunned by what they saw.

In the golden morning sunlight outside was a small dirt road through the countryside. Not far away stood rows of gray-walled, blue-tiled farmhouses. Beyond them stretched neatly partitioned fields.

Where was the garden?!

Where was the prince’s manor?!

Where was the imperial city?!

All gone—completely gone!

The two stared at each other in horror, utterly confused.

Just then, a man carrying a hoe passed by and saw Shen Shaoyuan peeking through the door crack. He cheerfully said, “Old Shen Number Seven, the sun’s up! Time to go work! They’re handing out rations after today’s labor!”

Shen Shaoyuan reflexively replied, “Got it.”

After the man walked away, Shen Shaoyuan couldn’t help but mutter, “Dressed so oddly, doesn’t even salute when he sees this prince—has the audacity to call me Old Shen Number Seven—what impudence…”

Before he finished complaining, a sudden pain struck his head, and a flood of foreign memories poured into his mind.

Shocked by the new memories, Shen Shaoyuan turned to look at Shen Mo’er, only to find—within the blink of an eye—that his once rosy, chubby, luxuriously raised daughter had become a sickly, frail, shabbily dressed little waif.

He cried out in anguish, “My little Mo’er! How did you become like this—?!”

*

About the time it takes for one stick of incense to burn, the two now-skinny, ragged father and daughter sat in their leaky, dilapidated hut and sighed in unison.

“The world really is full of wonders,” Shen Shaoyuan sighed.

“No kidding,” Shen Mo’er sighed too.

Who could’ve imagined—they hadn’t died under the rebels’ blades, but instead had become new souls in another world.

Not only Shen Shaoyuan—Shen Mo’er, too, now had memories that didn’t belong to her.

According to the memories they received, they were now in a world completely unrelated to Great Liang.

This country was called Huaguo, founded just over twenty years ago. The village they were in was Yangliu Village, Jiangbei County, Lingjiang City, in the southern part of the country.

In this ordinary village, there had once been a pair of father and daughter also named “Shen Shaoyuan” and “Shen Mo’er.”

The woman of the household had died early, leaving the two to rely on each other.

Honest and timid, during the lean season, the little food they had left had been “borrowed” by unscrupulous relatives—half taken by force. They didn’t dare ask for it back or borrow from others. So they survived by digging wild greens and gnawing on roots.

They barely clung to life.

Misfortune never comes alone. Though it should have been warm by now—after all, the Dragon Boat Festival had passed—it had been raining every day and still unusually chilly. Especially at night, they trembled under thin bedding.

To make things worse, their home was broken and leaky. After days of rain, their quilts were soaked, and the two of them, in the middle of summer, had caught a cold.

Already starving and frail, falling sick tipped the scale. Whether it was hunger or illness, no one knew, but the two of them died together last night.

At the very moment the treasure vault door opened, Shen Mo’er and Shen Shaoyuan arrived in this world, and the poor original father and daughter vanished.

They inherited their memories and became the new “Shen Shaoyuan” and “Shen Mo’er” of this world.

They had already tested it—no matter how many times they opened the vault door, it always led to this world now.

And looking at their newly emaciated, gaunt bodies—it was clearly Heaven’s way of making them fit their new identities.

In short, there was no going back.

Yes, Heaven’s will.

The royal family of Great Liang were descendants of the Wu (shamanic) tribe. Though their generation had lost the ability to communicate with spirits or divine fortunes, they still believed the heavens—created by the Father God—favored their bloodline.

Their ancestors must have protected them from death at the rebels’ hands by sending them here instead.

After talking it through, father and daughter quickly accepted their reality.

At least they didn’t have to die.

And at least, they were still together.

It’s just—this new world was drastically different from Great Liang.

Here, talk of spirits and ghosts was labeled superstition.

Here, there were no emperors or princes—that was all considered feudal nonsense.

Here, the people were the masters, and poor peasants were the most honored.

…

In short, everything here contradicted everything they believed.

But compared to dying under rebel swords, none of it really mattered.

Besides, they still had their treasure vault.

They had already tested it—just by thinking about it, the vault’s door would appear out of thin air. They could enter and exit at will, and the door would disappear again.

Everything inside was intact—nothing missing.

The vault was now their lifeline in this new world.

“Truly, our ancestors are watching over us!” Shen Shaoyuan said in gratitude.

Shen Mo’er felt the same but reminded him, “Father, that’s feudal superstition—we can’t say that here.”

“Yes yes, you’re right.” Shen Shaoyuan nodded repeatedly. “We must remind each other constantly. One slip of the tongue, and we might get caught and criticized. Also, even though we have the vault, we mustn’t casually take things out—trouble awaits. In this world, you can’t show even a trace of wealth.”

Shen Shaoyuan declared firmly, “We’re poor—very poor!”

Shen Mo’er thought for a moment and said, “Then we need to find a way to get our food back.”

Shen Shaoyuan nodded. “Naturally.”

Though their neighbor—whom they now knew, from the memories, was named Zhou Dashuan—had said the commune would be distributing rations today, past experience told them it wouldn’t be much.

They were now living off the last crumbs. Every grain mattered. Since the food was “borrowed,” it had to be returned.

Besides, those people had dared to snatch their food. If they didn’t teach them a lesson, those scoundrels would think they were still that helpless, honest pair!

Father and daughter exchanged a look.

Causing trouble?

They were good at that!