July 1975.  

Qingshan Commune, Yangcheng County. Qinghe Production Brigade.  

The blazing red sun hung high in the sky, its scorching rays leaving people dizzy. Even the grass by the roadside curled its leaves under the heat.  

Under the leadership of the brigade leader, the members of Qinghe Brigade toiled in the fields under the relentless sun.  

“The weather’s getting hotter and hotter—might be a sign of a heavy rainstorm,” one brigade member muttered, wiping sweat from his forehead.  

His work partner kept moving without pause. “Who knows? The weather’s been acting strange lately. Just a couple of days ago, I heard someone saw lightning all over the mountains. No idea if it’s true or not.”  

“Hope it’s not some kind of evil omen,” the first member whispered under his breath.  

“What are you two gossiping about instead of working?” Brigade Leader Bai Fumin approached with a dark expression.  

The two immediately lowered their heads and focused on their work, not daring to say another word. Only when Bai Fumin walked away did they let out a sigh of relief.  

The partner nudged him. “You’ve got a death wish, spouting nonsense like that! Lucky it was just our brigade leader who heard you. Anyone else, and you’d have been reported already.”  

The crackdown on feudal superstitions was strict these days. A single report could cost you half your life.  

The brigade member shuddered at the thought. He’d just been speaking carelessly—thank goodness it hadn’t gone worse.  

After exchanging a few more words, the two returned to their labor.  

Meanwhile, Bai Fumin, now elsewhere, stared grimly at the distant Jinshan Mountain. He, too, felt that something was very wrong lately.  

It wasn’t just the unusual weather. His own son had witnessed the strange phenomena in the mountains firsthand.  

All of it filled Bai Fumin with unease, but he couldn’t show it. He was the Brigade Leader of Qinghe Brigade, after all.  

Boom— 

A deafening clap of thunder split the sky, followed by a blinding flash of lightning that seemed to tear the heavens apart. In the next instant, fierce winds howled, and dark clouds rolled in. Raindrops as large as beans began pelting down.  

Bai Fumin quickly struck the gong to signal the end of the workday. After ensuring the brigade members returned their tools and locked them away, he followed the crowd back home.  

The rain grew heavier, stinging as it struck his face.  

Before he could reach home, he saw a figure in a straw rain cape dart out from his courtyard. A closer look revealed it was his second son, Bai Junwu.  

“Junwu! Where are you going in this downpour?” Bai Fumin shouted.  

Without turning back, Bai Junwu yelled, “Little Sister’s in the mountains! I’m going to find her!”  

The moment Bai Fumin heard his youngest daughter was on the mountain, his earlier calm vanished. Forgetting about going home, he immediately turned to rush toward the hills, his heart filled with dread.  

His youngest wasn’t like other children. She had always been a bit slow, her ability to take care of herself lacking. In a storm like this, she’d never make it back alone.  

But before he could get far, his wife, Liao Guizhi, chased after him.  

“At least put on your rain cape!” She threw the straw cape over Bai Fumin’s shoulders. “The mountain paths are slippery—watch your step. And you have to bring our girl back safely.”  

Her voice trembled with worry—for both her daughter and her husband.  

Bai Fumin nodded. “Don’t worry. I’ll bring her home safe. The rain’s getting worse—go back inside.”  

Meanwhile, deep within Jinshan Mountain, the wind howled and rain poured in torrents. Against the oppressive black sky, the mountain loomed like a monstrous beast.  

In such extreme weather, the animals of the mountain had all hidden away, not daring to show themselves.  

All except for one little hedgehog.  

This hedgehog didn’t hide.  

And the spot where it sat was even more peculiar—though the storm raged all around, this small area seemed untouched. Not a single drop of rain fell here, despite the terrifying web of lightning crackling overhead.  

The hedgehog showed no fear. Instead, it boldly gazed up at the swirling thunder and lightning, its round eyes flickering with something disturbingly human—a hint of solemn focus.  

That solemnity revealed this was no ordinary hedgehog.  

She was, in fact, the last hedgehog spirit left in this world. Today was the day she would face her heavenly tribulation, the trial that would allow her to take human form. That was why the weather had grown so unnatural.  

Though she had cultivated in these mountains for centuries and was more than capable of enduring the tribulation, she dared not let her guard down.  

Because years ago, a misstep in her cultivation had caused her to lose one of her souls.  

And she had never gotten it back.

But now, the arrow was already on the bowstring—there was no turning back.  

The solemnity in the little hedgehog’s eyes hardened into resolve. With a sudden leap, she charged straight toward the lightning.  

At the same time, tens of thousands of bolts converged into a single, colossal heavenly thunder, crashing down upon her.  

The moment it struck, she knew the outcome.  

She had failed.  

Meanwhile, the torrential rain gradually eased into a light drizzle.  

Bai Junwu finally found his younger sister unconscious in a dilapidated hut.  

“Little Sister! Zhizhi!” His legs nearly gave out when he saw Bai Zhizhi lying motionless on the ground.  

Only after confirming she was merely unconscious—not seriously hurt—did he exhale in relief. He carefully dressed her in the raincoat he had brought, then wrapped her tightly in his own straw cape, ensuring not a single drop of rain could reach her.  

Once satisfied, he lifted her onto his back and cautiously began the descent down the mountain.  

Just as he reached the foot of the hill, he ran into Bai Fumin.  

“Dad.”  

Bai Fumin’s eyes darted anxiously between Bai Junwu and the girl on his back.  

“How is she? Is Zhizhi alright?”  

Bai Junwu: “Should be fine. She’s just unconscious.”  

With the rain easing, the tension in the air also dissipated somewhat.  

Bai Fumin let out a sigh of relief—then promptly smacked Bai Junwu on the head. “Just unconscious? That’s your idea of ‘fine’? Why don’t you try passing out and see how ‘fine’ it feels!”  

Bai Junwu just grinned foolishly.  

Truthfully, Bai Zhizhi fainted often—or rather, it was more like she fell asleep unexpectedly.  

At first, the family had panicked, even taking her for medical check-ups. But when no cause was found, they gradually grew used to it. Now, they simply waited for her to wake on her own.  

Back at home, Liao Guizhi had been waiting anxiously. When the rain lightened and they still hadn’t returned, she prepared to go search for them herself.  

Her daughter-in-law, Huang Xiuyun, tried to stop her.  

Just as the two were at a standoff, Bai Fumin and the others returned.  

Liao Guizhi rushed forward, her heart aching at the sight of Bai Zhizhi on Bai Junwu’s back. “What happened to her?”  

Bai Junwu: “Mom, Little Sister’s asleep again. I’ll take her to her room first.”  

“Alright, alright.”  

Thanks to Bai Junwu’s meticulous care, Bai Zhizhi hadn’t been touched by a single drop of rain—she was completely dry.  

Bai Junwu, on the other hand, was drenched from head to toe.  

Liao Guizhi shooed him out, instructing Huang Xiuyun to help him change into dry clothes.  

Then, she fetched warm water and gently wiped Bai Zhizhi’s face, hands, and feet before tucking her snugly under the covers.  

Liao Guizhi tenderly stroked her daughter’s soft, delicate cheeks, marveling at how lovely she was.  

After sitting with her for a while, she finally left.  

The moment the door closed, Bai Zhizhi’s eyes flew open.  

She sat up, stretching her hands out before her, curiously clenching and unclenching her fingers—as if she had never had hands before.  

And in a way, she hadn’t.  

The current Bai Zhizhi was, in truth, the little hedgehog.  

Though her heavenly tribulation had failed, she had found her lost soul—and under the power of the thunder, merged with it.  

That missing soul had reincarnated as a human, becoming Bai Zhizhi, the youngest daughter of Qinghe Brigade’s captain. All this time, she had been right beside her, yet the hedgehog had never realized it.  

Now, with her physical form destroyed by the failed tribulation, this soul had given her a second chance at life.  

From this day forward, she was Bai Zhizhi.  

The hedgehog—no, Bai Zhizhi—tried summoning the spiritual energy within her, only to find it completely gone. She attempted cultivation the way she always had, but no matter how hard she tried, nothing worked.  

Bai Zhizhi stared blankly at her empty palms, lost.  

She had technically achieved human form, but…  

Her centuries of cultivation—gone.  

Just like that.  

She curled her legs to her chest, resting her forehead on her knees, motionless. Her mind was empty.  

And so was her heart.