Mid-spring along the banks of the Huitong River, the trees were lush and verdant beneath a clear blue sky.
The boat glided over the water, a gentle breeze brushing the face, the rippling waves soothing and pleasant—truly an idyllic scene.
But Mu Qing had no heart to appreciate any of it.
Not because she didn’t want to, but because she couldn’t.
Because…
She got seasick.
By now, the Mu family’s fleet had left Jiangnan more than half a month ago.
Most of the journey was already behind them; they had long crossed into Shandong territory. Yet Mu Qing, day after day, remained curled up in front of the cabin window like a dying salted fish, wrapped in a cloak, her face deathly pale, her head spinning, frequently sticking her head out to dry heave over the river. It was honestly pitiful to witness.
Born and raised in the water towns of Jiangnan all her life, and yet she still got seasick—what a tragic fate.
Even worse, this miserable, nausea-inducing, long-distance boat journey was something she had worked hard to get assigned to by Master Mu, her father.
“You’re feeling unwell again, Young Miss? Here, rinse your mouth first.”
After another round of dry heaving, her personal maid Xueli couldn’t bear to watch anymore. Heart aching, she brought over a bowl of lightly salted water for her to rinse her mouth.
Mu Qing struggled to sit halfway up, reaching out to take the bowl when—coincidentally—her other personal maid, Bingtang, arrived with a box of food.
Seeing her sitting up, Bingtang was pleasantly surprised and immediately rushed over with the box. “Young Miss, are you feeling better? Maybe you can eat a little something for lunch?”
Mu Qing blinked, only then realizing it was already lunchtime again.
The food in the box was steaming hot and richly aromatic—clearly all her favorites. But the moment she caught the scent, her stomach turned, and without a word she lunged toward the window and started vomiting violently.
It was the kind of wretched retching that seemed to come from the depths of her soul. Alarmed, Xueli rushed to her side, patting her back while scolding Bingtang in a low voice: “What are you standing there for? Close that box and take it away! Didn’t I tell you the Young Miss can’t handle any smells when she’s seasick?”
Bingtang, two years younger than Xueli, often acted spoiled due to being born into the household. Though she sometimes resisted Xueli’s authority, she wasn’t completely clueless. When it came to serious matters, she knew not to disobey. She quickly snapped the box shut and scurried toward the cabin door, still mumbling to herself:
“It’s not like I wanted to make her sick on purpose… It’s just that Master noticed she hasn’t eaten much lately and was worried about her health, so he asked me to bring her something. I didn’t want to come, but I was afraid it’d seem like I was disregarding his love for the Young Miss. I thought maybe she was getting better… And now I’m the one getting blamed…”
Xueli looked at her, clearly worried and remorseful, but still talking tough—an attitude that made one both angry and amused. She wanted to say something but, seeing Mu Qing’s condition, decided to let it slide for now.
With the offending smell removed, Mu Qing gradually started feeling better after vomiting for a while.
Still, her face remained ghostly pale, her whole demeanor listless and weak.
Xueli’s heart ached even more at the sight. She continued patting her back and gently rubbing her chest while muttering with a frown:
“It’s been over half a month already. We’ve tried every prescription and folk remedy we can think of, but you’re still throwing up this badly? You weren’t like this back home. If I’d known, I would’ve begged Madam to stop you from coming. Just look at the suffering you’ve endured.”
Well, obviously—it was a long-distance journey by river. How could that possibly compare to the painted pleasure boats they used for lakeside outings back home?
Mu Qing couldn’t help but smile bitterly at that. She wanted to say something, but her limbs were weak and her mouth wouldn’t cooperate. In the end, she gave up.
After sitting there and resting for quite a while, she finally managed, with Xueli’s help, to prop herself up. She rinsed her mouth with the salted water, then forced herself to sip the honeyed water Xueli handed over. But after just one mouthful, she couldn’t take any more.
Listlessly, she shook her head for Xueli to take it away, then curled back up by the window, closing her eyes like a dead fish, trying to gather her strength.
She had to admit, Xueli’s words just now had really hit home.
Honestly, if she’d known this body would still suffer from such intense seasickness in this lifetime, she never would’ve chosen to travel by boat—no matter how important it was to gather information on Dragon-AoTian.
Just thinking about it made her regret so much her insides hurt.
And to think she usually considered herself pretty clever—why did her brain suddenly short-circuit when it came to this?
Was this the price of trying to defy fate?
It all started more than half a month ago.
That day, when she awoke from her dream and realized she was a side character in a transmigrated novel, she immediately resolved to act first. Relying on her “sweet and adorable” charm, her “clever and auspicious” character setting, and most importantly, her “god-tier bullshitting skills,” she managed to flap her butterfly wings before the plot could begin.
To get to the root of the problem, she volunteered to take her father Master Mu’s place on this long-planned business trip to the capital, leading the fleet herself.
Of course, for Master Mu, the trip wasn’t just about business. A big part of the journey involved passing through Tongzhou to visit Baihe Academy and gather information—preparing for her prodigious younger brother, the nine-year-old academic genius already famed in the region, to enroll this coming September.
This was also one of the reasons the trip couldn’t be canceled.
But for Mu Qing, the real motive lay in something else entirely. According to the original novel, this capital-bound journey was the trigger point for her father’s fateful meeting with Dragon-AoTian, the male lead born in a tiny fishing village just outside Linqing City.
Rather than hide from fate, she preferred to seize control and make the first move.
Only then could she counter every blow and quietly erase the terrifying engagement from existence.
Also, to be honest, she was just a tiny bit curious about this male lead with his built-in halo and ridiculous luck—so long as she didn’t get involved with him, he could be Dragon-AoTian all he wanted, and she could remain her beautiful rich flower. As long as they stayed in their own lanes, she was happy to be a spectator eating popcorn.
After all, these face-slapping, power-climbing, over-the-top novels were fun to watch—as long as you weren’t a character inside them.
It was seventy percent ambition, twenty percent necessity, and ten percent curiosity that prompted her journey to the capital.
But having never taken such a long river trip before—and having lived such a comfortable life these past ten-odd years since transmigrating—she completely forgot that she used to suffer from extreme seasickness.
And so, the tragedy began.
Mu Qing furiously tightened her cloak, silently vowing to power through and resolve everything in one go—so what if she puked? As long as she could sidestep the plot, a little suffering was worth it.
Thankfully, the light at the end of the tunnel wasn’t far off—if she remembered correctly, Linqing City was just ahead.
Although, the wait in between was pure torture.
Three days later, when Mu Qing felt she might actually die on that boat, they finally arrived in Linqing City.
The moment her feet touched solid ground, she was so emotional she nearly cried.
She even pushed away Xueli and Bingtang, who had been supporting her the entire way, and declared with great gusto that she would “walk on her own.” Then, ignoring their anxious protests, she strode up the stone steps of the dock with long, confident strides—ah, it felt so good to be alive again.
Carefully lifting her skirts and walking a few tentative steps, she finally relaxed. As expected, the moment she stepped ashore, she stopped feeling nauseous. What bliss.
Feeling bolder, she quickened her pace and even turned to wave happily at the two maids. “See? I’m perfectly fine! Don’t worry about me—go back to the boat and pack my things. I’ll just wait for you here at the dock.”
Having served her for years, Bingtang and Xueli were well accustomed to her occasional spurts of manic energy. They exchanged a helpless glance—there was no way to talk her down. Xueli turned back toward the boat to handle the packing, leaving Bingtang to follow Mu Qing and keep an eye on her.
Mu Qing didn’t mind. Let her follow, whatever—as long as no one interfered with her good mood.
These two girls had grown up with her. Their personalities differed, but both were completely devoted to her. She saw them as sisters, really.
Still, having their constant companionship and care was a double-edged sword. While it was comforting, they could be even more nagging than her mother, Madam Bai, when they got going. It gave her a headache sometimes.
Thinking of Madam Bai inevitably reminded Mu Qing of a rather unpleasant little incident that happened before she left. She mentally added another item to her to-do list and suddenly felt a bit uncomfortable.
Maybe it was this momentary distraction, or maybe she was simply too giddy with joy—whatever the reason, as she walked up the steps, she didn’t watch her footing and misstepped, stumbling backward in a dangerous tumble.
Behind her came Bingtang’s shrill cry of panic. Mu Qing herself let out a soft yelp, flailing instinctively with hands and feet. But in her panic, she had no coordination. No matter how she flailed like a crab, she only hastened her fall.
She was doomed. Falling from these tall stone steps, if she didn’t break a leg, she’d at least end up bruised and battered.
What a disaster. Why couldn’t she just focus on climbing stairs instead of thinking nonsense? Had she seasicked her brain into mush?
Mu Qing’s mind was in chaos. She was convinced this was the end—until, at the very last second, someone yanked her to a stop.
A person in white, face hidden beneath a tightly veiled white hat—mysterious and aloof.
The moment she was steadied, the person let go without a word, retreated a few steps, and swiftly turned away, vanishing without even a greeting.
Truly a “good deed without leaving a name”… but why did it feel like they were disgusted by her?
The rescuer’s reaction left Mu Qing’s “thank you” stuck in her throat, and a strange ripple stirred in her heart—interesting. You’ve caught my attention now.
Of course, more than the rescuer’s weird behavior, what really intrigued her was something else.
Ah, what a pity—she really should’ve stopped him just now.
Seeing her stand frozen in place, Bingtang thought she’d been scared senseless. She ran over crying, throwing her arms around Mu Qing and bombarding her with “Are you okay?” and “Don’t scare me!” Her voice was so loud, even her older brother Mu Hai and Xueli, still on the boat packing up, were alarmed and came rushing over.
Only then did Mu Qing snap out of it, smile, and shake her head to say she was fine. She let her maids help her into the carriage they had arranged in advance.
While Bingtang and Xueli kept fussing at her to be more careful next time, she didn’t hear a word. Her mind was still on what had just happened.
That mysterious rescuer was odd. Though wearing a woman’s veil, the figure was clearly not female. To catch her like that so effortlessly… maybe he was some kind of wandering martial artist? But then, why did he carry such a faint yet distinct fragrance?
And not any kind she recognized—not even among the ones she’d personally blended before…
Very interesting.
If only she had asked what fragrance it was.
That kind of light, elegant scent—forget about whether it suited men—it would absolutely be a hit among women.
After all, even those who feast on delicacies all day would occasionally crave a simple bowl of porridge, right?
Ah, what a loss.
If she had gotten the formula, she could’ve tried selling it at the Mu family’s Xiang Bao Zhai. It would’ve been a guaranteed bestseller.
If only the guy’s aura hadn’t been so intimidating—she definitely would’ve asked.
Worst case, she’d offer him a share. Business is all about win-wins. Who doesn’t like making money?
Mu Qing silently mourned the silver she might have lost out on for a few minutes, then let it go. There were a thousand ways to get rich, but only one life to live. First, she needed to take care of the Dragon-AoTian situation. If she didn’t defuse that ticking time bomb, she’d have no peace of mind for anything else.
Watching the scenery roll by outside the carriage, her mood suddenly lightened:
Linqing City. Dragon-AoTian. Here comes big sister.
