Pain.
Pain as if my bones had shattered.
Then came an endless feeling of weightlessness, the roar of wind in my ears.
My last conscious impressions were the smell of still-wet concrete at the construction site, and my coworkers' distant shouts of alarm.
When I opened my eyes again, the world had changed.
At first there were only blurry patches of light, then they slowly came into focus—a huge face belonging to an elderly woman.
She was wearing an elaborate style of clothing I had never seen before: dark-purple brocade embroidered with gold… a phoenix? Her gaze was so intense it made my heart pound.
"He's awake, he's awake! Look, his eyes are open!"
Her voice was loud and commanding, yet it trembled with almost uncontrollable joy. I was gently lifted up by a pair of steady arms, and only then did I see myself—a pair of baby's hands, pale, chubby, ridiculously small.
I opened my mouth, but no proper sound came out, only a faint "ah."
Wait. Me, Lin Wei, twenty-four years old, an architect—I had just been on the thirteenth floor of a construction site… so what is this now?
"Oh, my precious little darling!" the old woman—later I learned she was my grandmother, the unquestioned authority of the family—pulled me closer, her grip gentle but unyielding.
"Just look at those brows and eyes, that nose—pure Su family blood! Handsome beyond words!"
The Su family? Isn't my surname Lin?
"Father, look! Little brother is looking at me!" came a clear, childish girl's voice.
I struggled to move my eyes. A little girl of seven or eight, dressed in a red riding and archery outfit, was leaning over the cradle.
Her eyes sparkled like stars. A wooden sword hung at her waist, and her hair was tied up high, making her look spirited and heroic.
Father?
A man so beautiful it took my breath away. He looked to be in his early thirties, with jet-black hair and snow-white skin, features as delicate as a painting. He wore a pale, wide-sleeved robe, his temperament as gentle as water. At this moment, his eyes were red, and his trembling fingertips brushed my cheek.
"Yes, after so many years of waiting," he said softly, as if afraid of shattering a dream, "our Su family finally has a little young master. Mother, look—don't this child's lips look just like mine?"
Young master? Little young master?
My head was buzzing. I was passed from the old woman—my grandmother—to another woman. She looked to be around forty, wearing a dark-red official's robe embroidered with cloud patterns, a black gauze cap on her head. Her expression was stern, but the way she looked at me was unusually gentle, even awkwardly careful.
"Yuzhi," she said in a steady voice, "I am your mother, Su Yan. From now on, you are the Su family's only young master."
Su Yuzhi. That was my new name.
Su Yan—my "mother"—was the Vice Minister of Revenue of the current dynasty (later I learned that in this world, vice ministers held real power).
The beautiful man holding me was my "father," named Liu Qingci. The red-clad little girl was my third elder sister, Su Xiao. I also had two more sisters—Su Pei, the eldest, and Su Fei, the second—who were away at school today.
And me, Su Yuzhi, was the long-awaited—only son—of this powerful noble family.
I was passed from hand to hand, surrounded by faces—some stern, some valiant, some gentle. Without exception, they all looked at me as if I were a priceless, fragile treasure that had to be carefully protected.
And my "father," Liu Qingci, stayed on the outskirts, dabbing at his eyes with a silk handkerchief, laughing and crying at the same time, his gaze full of love.
Lying in a cradle lined with soft silk, staring at the exquisite embroidery above me, I was forced to digest an absurd reality: I had transmigrated. Not only had I become a baby—I had come to a completely inverted world.
Here, women ruled. Women were physically strong, went out to build careers, studied, became officials, and supported their families.
Men were slender, stayed inside the home, and were expected to cultivate virtue, appearance, speech, and skills, with gentleness and docility considered beautiful.
And I, Su Yuzhi, the only son of the Prime Minister's household (a few days later, my mother would be promoted), had my life path laid out from the moment I was born—to study music, chess, calligraphy, and painting; to cultivate virtue and character; to seek nothing more than peace and happiness.
At my three-day-old celebration, I was shocked again. Most of the guests were women, imposing and dignified, and their gifts were ancient books, brushes and ink, jewels, silks. The few male guests gathered together, quietly discussing poetry and the way to assist one's wife and teach one's children.
When I was presented to everyone, the praises I heard were: "With those looks, he's sure to become the number one young master in the capital!"
"Such skin—truly tender enough to break at a touch. He must be carefully nurtured."
"Prime Minister Su is so fortunate, to get such a jade-like beauty."
I was handled like a display item, while ten thousand alpacas stampeded through my heart. Assist one's wife and teach children?
I, a former twenty-four-year-old construction worker who had believed for more than twenty years that "a man must strive to be strong"—and now you're telling me my ultimate life goal is… to marry? To raise kids?
At night, lying in my cradle and staring at the moonlight outside the window, I felt an overwhelming sense of helplessness.
My reincarnation luck was maxed out—I had dropped straight onto the finish line. Fine clothes, exquisite food, boundless affection.
In the future I would probably just be locked inside another luxurious courtyard, waited on by servants, and live out my life beautifully and comfortably.