WBSGVS Chapter 184 V2

Three years later, Qingli came across news about the Shen family again through a missing person alert in a local app, the kind many platforms ran for public service.

She just happened to catch one:
Missing Wife – Mrs. Xu has been missing for over a month with no contact.
A photo was attached, with a crude blur over the eyes.

But it didn’t hide much—Qingli recognized it immediately as Xu Yin.

So she had someone look into it a little.

Although the Shen family had gone bankrupt, Shen Yanjun himself was quite capable. With the last bit of remaining capital, he built a pretty successful new company and became somewhat of a rising star again in the business world.

It turned out the story was simple: Xu Yin had wanted the pampered life of a wealthy wife, and over the years, she and Shen Yanjun had fought constantly. But for the sake of their children, he had refused to divorce her.

Xu Yin had no source of income, and the Shen family tightly controlled all the money. She couldn’t leave even if she wanted to. It wasn’t until the child was almost five years old that she suddenly disappeared.

They searched for a while but couldn’t find her. Then, there was no more news.

Another two years passed, and Shen Yanjun successfully filed for divorce. Under the arrangement of his parents, he got married again.

The last time Qingli saw anything about Xu Yin was when she made the trending list on Weibo for beating up a mistress. Some netizens, who were particularly good at digging up gossip, recognized the mistress as the woman who had ruined Shen Yanjun and Huo Qingli’s marriage. The incident exploded online, and Qingli was tagged multiple times—only then did she see it.

But by then, it had nothing to do with her anymore.

Xu Yin’s path was never meant to be the same as hers.

In this life, Qingli had inherited a massive conglomerate all because of a moment’s laziness, and then spent nearly thirty years toiling away. She deeply regretted it.

Only when she got older did she finally have the time to travel with Chi Yue.

As he aged, Chi Yue’s health declined significantly. His legs, which had never been amputated, became a serious issue as his immune system weakened. Many problems followed. Even though Qingli knew medicine, she couldn’t do much to relieve his pain.

So in this life, he passed away before she did.

Qingli lived on for several more years before finally closing her eyes.

When she regained consciousness, she heard two low voices speaking nearby. One of them sounded particularly submissive and said, “Sister Xiling, maybe we should still go to the Imperial Hospital. If something happens to the Fourth Prince, we won’t be able to bear the consequences…”

But soon, a louder and more impatient voice cut in, “Enough already! This is the Cold Palace—we can’t just leave whenever we want. If someone sees us, there’ll be trouble!”

“But you’re a senior palace maid. It shouldn’t be an issue. Besides—”

Before the voice could finish, it was interrupted again. “I said we’re not going, and that’s final. It’s just a little fever—he’ll be fine after sweating it out under a blanket!”

The voices faded away, followed by the sound of soft footsteps approaching.

Qingli clutched her aching stomach, her head dizzy from what felt like a lack of oxygen, but her mind was still conscious.

She thought slowly, Fourth Prince?

Don’t tell me that’s me?

Could it be—I’ve finally been reborn as a man?!

Just then, the old door creaked loudly as it opened. The footsteps stopped beside her, and she was helped up. A gentle girl’s voice asked, “Princess, why did you fall?”

Qingli relaxed a bit. Not a man… Slightly disappointed, she pretended to be unwell and stayed silent. Slowly opening her eyes, she found herself in a dilapidated yet spacious ancient-style room.

In front of her was a simple bed. Under a worn-out quilt lay a small boy with flushed cheeks, sound asleep. But he seemed uncomfortable—his brows were furrowed, and his lips were dry and cracked.

Next to the bed was a toppled cup and a puddle of spilled water.

The palace maid helping her up was much taller and easily helped her sit by the bed. Seeing that she didn’t speak, the maid wasn’t surprised. She picked up the cup and said, “Princess, things like this—just leave them to your servant.”

Qingli remained silent, still pretending to be dazed.

The palace maid sighed and took the cup out. Not long after, she returned with a cup of warm water and gently helped the young boy drink it.

His dry lips moistened, and his frown eased a bit. But just as he lay back down, he coughed twice, softly and weakly, clearly lacking strength.

It was the kind of sound that came from someone chronically ill, frail from the inside out.

The maid gently patted the boy’s back, and he quickly stopped coughing.

Qingli noticed the maid was also quite thin—clearly, the entire place was in a state of neglect. But isn’t the Cold Palace meant for disfavored consorts? Why are two imperial children here?

The maid seemed to have other duties. After settling the boy and checking that Qingli didn’t ask any questions, she left.

As soon as she was gone, Qingli began to absorb the original host’s memories.

This time, though, something was different. She only received a short fragment of memory—sporadic snapshots from the age of two or three up to now, when the host was ten.

The original host was born in an unknown dynasty called Jin, the sixth daughter of the emperor. Her name: Sima Qingli.

The boy on the bed was her younger brother, Sima Yan, five years old and currently burning with a high fever.

Though they were children of the emperor, they lived in the Cold Palace because their mother had once practiced forbidden witchcraft in the harem. When exposed, she was supposed to be executed. But she was pregnant at the time, and the emperor didn’t want to kill his child, so he spared her life and sent her to the Cold Palace, bringing her daughter along.

There, the original host’s mother gave birth to a son, hoping it would bring them back into favor. But no one paid her any attention.

She held on for four years before succumbing to illness six months ago, leaving behind her ten-year-old daughter and her under-five son.

With no allies in the palace, the children were alone. All of their mother’s servants had left one by one over the years—except for the timid maid just now, who remained.

Ironically, once the mother’s old rival heard of her death, she sent a palace maid to watch over the children.

That arrogant voice from earlier? It belonged to that new maid.

And so things remained as they were. The emperor had long since forgotten about these two children.

The original host’s memories were brief. Raised in isolation, she rarely spoke. Her mother had always been quiet, and that silence had shaped her into a calm, withdrawn child.

So when she stayed silent, no one found it odd.

But…

Qingli slowly climbed onto the bed and leaned over her younger brother, checking his pulse.

She was suffering from malnutrition and low blood sugar. But Sima Yan—aside from being malnourished—also had residual toxins in his system, which explained his poor constitution.

It had rained suddenly two nights ago. The original host had put out their only quilt to dry, but it got soaked. The next day, her brother came down with a fever that hadn’t gone down since.

She had summoned the courage to ask the more senior palace maid to fetch an imperial doctor, only to be harshly scolded and told to just wrap her brother in a blanket.

The blanket belonged to another maid and was at least dry, but Sima Yan was burning up. Wrapping him up wouldn’t help now. If he didn’t get treatment soon, the fever would do real damage!

Having inherited the original host’s memories, Qingli understood how serious the situation was. She grew anxious and tried to stand, but dizziness overtook her, and she collapsed back down.

With this weak body, she’d probably pass out before even reaching the door.

END OF THIS STORY