Chapter 1: Slaughter

"Slap!"

A crisp sound rang out, and Leng Ji felt a burning pain on her left cheek. She thought to herself, *So this is what it feels like to be shot in the head by a bullet—it's about the same as getting slapped.*

"Slap!" Another stinging slap landed on her other cheek.

This slap thoroughly jolted Leng Ji awake.

Damn it, this *is* just getting slapped!

Ignoring her splitting headache, Leng Ji's eyes snapped open. A black shadow flashed before her, and yet another slap struck her cheek.

"Bitch... do you have a death wish?!" A woman's voice cursed viciously through gritted teeth.

This last slap had clearly been delivered with vicious force. Leng Ji's ears rang with a loud "boom," her head buzzed, stars danced before her eyes, and she staggered back, falling heavily to the ground with a thud.

Leng Ji's brain short-circuited for a moment; she couldn't quite grasp the rhythm of the situation.

She clearly remembered that just moments ago, she was in the desert, engaged in a life-or-death car chase.

Those assassins from Country M, in order to get the wooden carving in her hands, had given her "face" by deploying a hundred mercenaries to surround and kill her alone.

Otherwise, she wouldn't have been riddled with so many bullet holes.

Thinking of her wounds, Leng Ji instinctively reached for her chest. She remembered that was the first place she'd been shot.

Assassins prioritize the head and heart, so she'd been shot there first.

If her heart hadn't been in an unusual position—located on the right side—that first shot would have blown her heart apart.

Of course, even without her heart being destroyed, Leng Ji distinctly remembered the bullet that exploded right before her eyes.

If her estimation was correct, that bullet should have blown her head off.

The moment her hand touched her chest, Leng Ji realized something was seriously wrong.

Her body was completely unharmed.

And what was even more alarming was the pair of slender fingers in her sight—they weren't her hands at all.

Her own hands were a standard killer's hands, covered in scars and calluses, the labels left behind by countless bloody slaughters.

These hands were slender and long, the skin fair and delicate; they looked like they'd never touched a kitchen knife, only fit for holding an embroidery needle.

Cold sweat instantly soaked through Leng Ji's clothes. Even for someone like her, accustomed to life and death, she couldn't accept this bizarre situation for a moment.

She was still herself, but her body was no longer her own.

Just as Leng Ji's head was spinning, a pair of hands suddenly clamped onto her chin, yanking her up forcefully.

The pain in her jaw instantly dragged Leng Ji's consciousness back to reality. She focused her eyes on the person before her.

The woman in front of her could be described as having a face that would put flowers to shame, a beauty carved from pink jade. She looked about sixteen or seventeen, possessing the blooming beauty of youth, but her eyes held a resentful hatred that didn't match her age.

That gaze looked as if Leng Ji had stolen her man—hateful to the point of gnashing teeth, looking ready to tear Leng Ji apart.

"Bitch, you've got some nerve! The love token my brother-in-law gave my sister—you dare smash it..."

"Fengyue... be careful. Our 'Lord' has had his eye on this bitch for a long time... if you ruin her pretty little face, the Lord won't be happy..." A woman in a blue dress with red lips struck a seductive pose as she stopped beside them.