Chapter 3
To speak of the original Yan Tangtang, her role in this story was truly beyond wretched.
The mercenary couple, surnamed Yan, were entirely consumed by their pursuit of cultivation. To them, the child was invisible. They did nothing more than hire an ordinary woman with a few coins to ensure the infant was fed.
It is worth noting that for cultivators, common worldly currency is beneath their notice—something so trivial it's hardly worth a glance. Even so, the Yans had no desire to spend a single unnecessary copper on Yan Tangtang. Had it not been for the direct order from the man who arranged the swap—commanding them to keep her alive—they would have abandoned her in some random wasteland long ago.
Ultimately, they dared not defy the order, for that man was far more powerful than they could ever hope to be. Furthermore, even if they lacked any parental affection, their biological daughter was still in the hands of others. To avoid future complications, they agreed to part with a pittance for Yan Tangtang's upkeep. And a pittance it truly was.
Despite being cultivators who had no real need for mundane money, the Yans refused to provide her even a single servant. Instead, they stashed her away in a remote, desolate village, paying a local woman just enough to keep her from starving. It was strictly about sustenance—there was no care, no warmth, and no one to share her lonely nights.
From her earliest memories, Yan Tangtang had lived a life of absolute solitude.
The Yan couple would only deign to check if Yan Tangtang was still breathing once every few months. This cold routine persisted until she reached the age of sixteen.
The novel briefly noted that she was an unattractive child, yet it also mentioned her breathtaking beauty upon reaching womanhood. It seemed the original Yan Tangtang was a "late bloomer"—blossoming from an awkward youth into a stunning young woman.
When the Yans visited her on her sixteenth birthday, they brought along a fellow mercenary. Upon seeing the fresh, youthful Yan Tangtang, the man was overcome with a lecherous desire. In a move of staggering cruelty, the Yans traded Yan Tangtang's innocence to him in exchange for a single, low-grade medicinal pill.
How utterly despicable.
The current Yan Tangtang could not even begin to fathom the agony the original must have felt at that moment. Though the novel remained silent on her inner thoughts, it went without saying that she had likely viewed the Yans as her only parents. To be sold by one's own flesh and blood for a mere low-grade pill...
Good Heavens, the author of this book must be a complete lunatic. The way they tormented Yan Tangtang in the narrative was nothing short of sadistic.
But the original Yan Tangtang's misfortunes were far from over. A few days later, the mercenary returned, asking to buy her outright. Knowing their comrade's habit of never "tasting the same dish twice," the Yans grew suspicious. They soon discovered the truth: there was something extraordinary about Yan Tangtang's body.
She did not possess a Yin constitution, nor was she a natural vessel for dual cultivation. Instead, she possessed a unique property: the power to induce Mental Tranquility.
Mercenaries, often steeped in bloodshed and forced to suppress the guilt of slaying the innocent, frequently succumbed to inner demons and volatile rages. These turbulent emotions hindered their cultivation progress. However, after being with Yan Tangtang, the mercenary found his rage quelled and his mind strangely at peace, allowing him to cultivate with unprecedented ease.
Recognizing her value, he sought to own her. But once the Yans realized her worth, they refused to sell. Instead, the elder Yan man sought to brutally claim that power for himself.
Yan Tangtang trembled with a violent chill. How terrified must the original Yan Tangtang have been? To have the man she believed to be her father attempt such an unspeakable violation...
In the novel, this incident was skimmed over with a few cold, clinical sentences, but now, inhabiting this reality, Yan Tangtang found the mere thought of it utterly loathsome.
The elder Yan man had failed—not out of conscience, but because his wife had intervened. As the couple traded venomous insults in front of her, the truth finally spilled out: Yan Tangtang was not their biological daughter. Having already suspected the lack of any blood tie after the man's heinous attempt, she tried to flee the moment she heard those words. But would the Yans ever let their prize escape?
They seized her, binding her with a Restraining Incantation. They wouldn't even grant her the mercy of death.
And so began a nine-year descent into hell. The Yans marketed her to any cultivator willing to trade resources for a night with her. Using her as an inexhaustible gold mine, they fueled their own advancement, stepping over her broken spirit to reach higher cultivation ranks.
Nine years...
In the narrative, when the female lead finally revealed the truth of the baby swap twenty-five years later, Yan Tangtang was finally "liberated" from that nightmare. For this, the novel hailed the female lead as Yan Tangtang's great savior.
What a load of absolute rubbish.
Yan Tangtang felt a surge of fury so intense she wanted to break out into hysterical laughter. When she had first read the book, she hadn't thought much of these plot points. But now, dwelling on them, the injustice burned through her like a searing flame.
A savior? I'd sooner thank a pile of filth.
It is said that one can never truly empathize until they have suffered the same pain. That proverb held a bitter truth. Only after stepping into the original Yan Tangtang's shoes did she truly understand the depth of the cruelty.
Because the novel was written strictly from the female lead's perspective, many details remained blurred, and the internal worlds of other characters were left utterly unexplored. In this narrative world, those who favored the female lead were hailed as "good people," while those who opposed her were branded as "villains." No matter how tragic their pasts or how agonizing their current struggles, the story framed their suffering as something they deserved—a just punishment for their roles.
The original Yan Tangtang was one such "villain." When she finally returned to her biological family at the age of twenty-five and realized the sheer magnitude of their power, she completely lost her mind.
The breaking point was witnessing the female lead—a woman as elegant and untouchable as a pure Nine-Treasures Lotus—living the life that should have been hers. Had she grown up within her own family, she, too, would have blossomed into such a noble and pristine flower.
Instead, every time she looked at the female lead's saintly demeanor, she was violently hauled back into her personal hell, haunted by the memories of the countless men who had defiled her room. How could she be expected to forget? How could anyone ever forget such horrors?
But what tormented the original Yan Tangtang the most was the fact that, even after the truth was revealed and she returned home, the female lead remained. She stayed within the family circle, continuing to be embraced as their daughter, still cherished as the "precious pearl" of the clan.
In reality, this outcome was the result of the female lead's careful machinations.
The novel framed her perspective by stating that although she knew of the infant swap, she merely viewed it as "borrowing" the original Yan Tangtang's life for a short while to secure her own future.
Her reasoning was that once the original Yan Tangtang returned to the family, she would rightfully reclaim her status as their treasure, while the female lead would become an outsider. Therefore, she "borrowed" those twenty-five years of her own volition. She reasoned that in a cultivation world, twenty-five years was but a fleeting moment. She believed that once the original Yan Tangtang returned, the family's vast resources could easily compensate for the lost time in no time at all. Furthermore, she had already "resolved" to be kind to the original Yan Tangtang upon her return.
The narrative painted this logic as entirely justifiable. It claimed that had she revealed the truth earlier, she would have been cast out of the estate. Since her biological parents were indifferent and neglectful, her life would have been wretched. Moreover, one could not expect any cultivation resources from mere mercenaries, meaning her path to immortality would have been utterly extinguished.
The conclusion drawn by the author was that the female lead was a helpless victim of circumstance with no other choice—a tragically sympathetic portrayal of a calculated theft.
Yan Tangtang's jaw dropped in sheer disbelief. She wasn't just stunned by the female lead's actions, but even more so by her past self—the person who had actually read this novel and thought, "Yes, this seems reasonable." Had she really been that naive? Now that she could think clearly, it was blindingly obvious that this whole narrative was fundamentally warped.
Furthermore, while the novel remained vague on certain details regarding the female lead, Yan Tangtang, now inhabiting the original body, could see through the gaps with chilling clarity.
Whether the female lead realized it or not, she had spent those twenty-five years meticulously harvesting every ounce of affection from the Chi family—Yan Tangtang's true biological family. Because she possessed an adult soul within an infant's body, she had a distinct advantage. She knew exactly how to gaze at the Chi family members with wide, sparkling eyes, how to let out a well-timed giggle, and how to reach out her tiny arms to beg for a hug.
Being a brilliant woman, she never overplayed her hand. She carefully curated the image of a bright, precocious, and deeply attached daughter. Using her adult intellect, she ensured the Chi family fell irrevocably in love with her.
Yan Tangtang frowned as the realization hit her. In the book, these scenes were portrayed as nothing more than the charming antics of a lovable child, but she knew better. If it weren't for such calculated manipulation, why would the Chi family continue to cherish and spoil the female lead even after their biological daughter returned? Had the female lead done this intentionally? Given her described intelligence, it was more than likely.
Yan Tangtang felt a profound sense of sorrow for the original owner of this body. Compared to the cunning female lead, the original Yan Tangtang had been tragically outmatched—simple-minded and utterly defenseless.