Chapter 1
"Slap! Slap! Slap!"
The crisp sound of slaps echoed rhythmically across a desolate riverbank.
A young girl, who didn’t look much older than her teens, knelt on the ground, relentlessly slapping a middle-aged man who was kneeling before her. Her voice was as clear and cold as the stream flowing nearby. "Calling your dad because you can’t win? What’s the point? Your dad can’t beat me either," she said with a chilling calmness. "It’s still early. Go back and fetch your grandpa."
With every pause in her words, another sharp slap landed on the man’s face.
A boy of about thirteen or fourteen stood frozen nearby, his eyes wide with shock. He wanted to rush in and save his father, but the memory of his own brutal beating at the hands of the girl rooted him to the spot. His legs felt like they were made of lead, refusing to move.
Nie Fuyao glared at the man, whose face was now swollen like a pig’s head, and sneered, "Your son bullied me and got what he deserved. How can you, as his father, have the nerve to stand up for him? A waste like him deserves to have his legs broken."
"Beat the young one, and the old one comes running. You can’t even tell right from wrong. Why don’t you dig up your ancestors from the grave and bring them here too? I’ll take care of them all at once, so I don’t have to deal with you one by one."
Just moments ago, she had been pulling an all-nighter in the lab, only to wake up to this man thrashing her with a stick as thick as a thumb. Born into a wealthy family, she had always lived a life of ease and privilege. Never in her wildest dreams had she imagined she would suffer such humiliation.
The original owner of this body had lost her mother before she was even a year old and had been raised by her grandmother. But her grandmother was anything but fair. She had used the money left by the girl’s mother to buy a house in the city for her son, leaving the girl to endure hardship after hardship.
Worse still, the grandmother had completely neglected the girl’s upbringing. After dropping out of middle school, the old woman had packed her bags and moved to the city to live with her son, abandoning her granddaughter in the village to fend for herself at the age of fourteen.
From a young age, the girl had grown up amidst the villagers’ insults and scorn. With no one to care for her, she had become like a little hedgehog, bristling with thorns, which only made the people around her despise her even more.
Her mother had been pregnant out of wedlock, and in this relatively backward village, their reputation was beyond tarnished. Even after her mother passed away, the villagers showed no mercy or compassion. Instead, they bullied her even more relentlessly.
As she grew older, the girl’s striking beauty began to attract the lecherous gazes of many men. If it weren’t for her fiery temper and domineering personality, she might have already fallen victim to their vile intentions. Day after day, the constant torment twisted her psyche, turning her into a figure despised by everyone, even the dogs.
Burning with rage, she grabbed a nearby stick and lashed it fiercely across the back of a middle-aged man. His shirt tore open, and a crimson streak of blood instantly appeared. The pain was so intense that tears and snot streamed down his face.
"From now on, you better steer clear of me. If you ever disrespect me again, I’ll kill you," she spat, her voice dripping with venom.
She turned her disgusted gaze to a trembling young boy standing nearby and sneered, "And you, you little wretch. Do you really think you’re some kind of king in this tiny patch of land, free to bully whoever you please? You’re still young and clueless about how cruel the world can be. Once you step out of this village, even if you grovel at someone’s feet, they’ll still find you repulsive. You’re nothing but a coward who preys on the weak."
She kicked the man’s knee twice, and he howled in agony, clutching his wound as he writhed on the rocky riverbank.
"You little bastard, just you wait... ah!" he started to curse, but before he could finish, the girl, who had been about to leave, turned back and began whipping him again with the stick.
"You little bitch..."
"You filthy brat..."
"Ahhh, I won't do it again, I swear! Please, have mercy on me..."
It was clear as day. A father who allowed his son to bully others—what kind of spine could you expect from such a good-for-nothing?
This brat was the ringleader in tormenting the original owner of this body. Every time he spotted her in the village, no matter how far away, he'd chase her down, shouting "bastard" at the top of his lungs.
It seemed that bullying this illegitimate girl had become the most righteous act in the village. Anyone who showed her even a shred of kindness would be branded as "improper."
In the distance, a group of men and women stood frozen, their eyes wide with disbelief.
These people were dressed to the nines, their clothes and accessories clearly expensive. Two of the women wore subtle, elegant makeup, and their outfits alone must have cost tens of thousands.
For the locals, whose annual income barely scraped past ten thousand, these people were undeniably wealthy.
Beside them stood a scruffy middle-aged man, clearly a local by his attire. He forced an awkward smile, revealing a set of yellowed teeth. "Well, uh, that's the Nie girl from the Fang family."
The group fell silent, their eyes practically bulging out of their sockets.
If it weren't for her exceptional self-control, Ning Sang would have turned on her heel and walked away right then and there.
This was Nie Lingchuan's daughter?
No way. Absolutely not. Ning Sang refused to believe it.
Nie Lingchuan, the national heartthrob who had swept every award in the entertainment industry, couldn't possibly have such a crude and unruly daughter.
Taking her back would be a devastating blow to Nie Lingchuan. Many in the industry, both inside and outside his circle, have been eyeing his position, eager to bring him down and take his place. Her appearance might just be the crack that shatters Nie Lingchuan's empire.
As Nie Lingchuan's exclusive agent, Ning Sang felt like crying but had no tears left. Nie Fuyao walked over, carrying a stick, and was stopped by a local man as she passed by the group.
"Nie girl, getting into fights again?" the man asked.
"Again?" Ning Sang's expression nearly cracked. "You mean this isn't the first time?"
Good heavens, what sin had he committed to deserve this?
Nie Fuyao glanced at them indifferently, her face cold, and nodded. "Here to scout for investments?"
The man, Yang Jianguo, was a department head from the county. Despite his unimpressive appearance, he was quite diligent in his duties, visiting the village several times a year for inspections.
Yang Jianguo chuckled and shook his head. "Investments? No, these people are here for you."
"..." Nie Fuyao silently scanned the group twice, then clicked her tongue in mild irritation. "Am I some billionaire's daughter, or does your family need me to donate my organs because someone's failing?"
Ning Sang was still reeling from the shattered remnants of his worldview, but one of the women in the group was carefully observing Nie Fuyao. Noticing the injuries on her neck and wrists, the woman frowned slightly and asked, "What happened to you?"
Nie Fuyao rolled up her sleeve, revealing a patchwork of wounds—fresh ones still bleeding, older ones that had scabbed over, and faint scars from long-healed injuries. The sight was enough to make anyone's heart skip a beat.
"Just some scratches. Does that disqualify me from donating blood, marrow, or organs?" she tilted her head slightly, her tone challenging.
The woman shook her head, a hint of vulnerability unique to her gender softening her expression. A faint pang of sorrow stirred within her.
"My name is Chen Jing," she said gently, gesturing to the man beside her. "This is Ning Sang. He’s your father’s agent. We’re here on your father’s behalf to take you home."
Nie Fuyao’s brows furrowed slightly, her eyes shadowed as she masked the flicker of emotion within them. She twirled the stick in her hand with an air of nonchalance.
"Wait here," she said curtly, then turned on her heel and walked away.
Chen Jing hurried after her, calling out, "Where are you going?"
"Where else?" Nie Fuyao replied without looking back. "Home to grab my ID and household register. Then I’ll go with you for the paternity test."
How utterly dramatic. Just as she’d crossed into this world, she’d already been handed a new identity. She couldn’t help but wonder if this so-called "father" she’d never met had other children waiting in the wings. If that were the case, she had no intention of inserting herself into their lives—unless there was something in it for her.
Being dragged into this world out of the blue had cost her dearly. She wasn’t about to let it slide without some form of compensation. She owed the original owner of this body nothing; if anything, it was the other way around. One moment she’d been sleeping peacefully, and the next, she’d woken up here, battered and bruised, with a childhood she’d rather forget.
As someone who’d grown up in privilege, she wasn’t about to let this slide without a fight.
