Chapter 3: The Assassin Transmigrates

The Second Aunt steadied herself and nodded, "Why haven't you taken the Eldest Miss away yet?"

She was nothing more than a useless person being cast out of the manor. As long as this matter ended here, who would ever guess that Ling Ruoxi was dead?

The more the Second Aunt thought about it, the more confident she felt. A servant brought over a straw mat and was just about to wrap the corpse when, unexpectedly, just as his arm was about to touch the body, Ling Ruoxi’s eyes snapped open. Her eyes, dark as the night, were sharp, chilling, and brimming with a piercing edge.

"Ah—" The servant let out a shrill, miserable scream. His body flopped onto the ground, and he pointed a trembling arm at the corpse that was slowly sitting up. "It’s... it’s a corpse coming back to life!"

The woman who had half-risen had black hair covering her face and was covered in blood. The wind blew the strands of hair that were stuck to her cheeks, and her blood-stained face looked like a Rakshasa from hell—extraordinarily terrifying!

Ling Ruoxi remembered that she should have been dead.

In the year 25, in New York, a thunderous explosion ignited the entire sky. Countless severed limbs fell from the top of the New York International Building. It was a grand funeral that destroyed the modern skyscraper symbolizing New York's economic chain and wiped out hundreds of elites from an international underworld organization. In the end, even their headquarters vanished into ashes in the explosion.

Who would have thought that the headquarters of the world's number one criminal organization, which left the FBI helpless, was actually located in the center of New York? Standing proudly at the pinnacle of the Ginza in this bustling metropolis?

And who would have thought that the King of Assassins, who made special forces tremble in fear, would not die on the stage of justice, but would instead be erased simply because of an internal purge?

Ling Ruoxi remembered very clearly the sensation of her body being blown apart by the massive shockwave. But who could tell her why she was still alive?

"Ah! The Eldest Miss has come back to life!" The servant pointed at Ling Ruoxi in terror. As soon as he finished speaking, he met those eyes that were nearly deathly still, and a chill surged from his spine up to his scalp.

"What are you screaming about?" The Second Aunt steadied herself and kicked the servant. She then raised her sleeve and glared at Ling Ruoxi with a face full of malice. Although she didn't know how this little slut had come back to life, even if she had woken up, she had lost her favor and there was no need to fear her.

"Since you aren't dead, get lost quickly. Don't make a scene outside the Prime Minister's manor." The Second Aunt waved her hand, her expression impatient.

Prime Minister's manor? Eldest Miss?

Ling Ruoxi narrowed her eyes dangerously. She tried to get up, but she couldn't muster any strength at all. She frowned slightly—what was wrong with her body? Where was the strength she prided herself on?

Her silence appeared to the Second Aunt as the despair of a broken heart. She gave a triumphant snort, flicked her sleeves, and stepped into the Prime Minister's manor. "Close the door! If the Eldest Miss dares to cause trouble outside the manor again, beat her to death with sticks!"

The cold, extreme order made the faces of the servants change drastically. The sky over the Prime Minister's manor was about to change.

Ling Ruoxi sat motionless in a pool of blood. The evening wind was chilly, and her blood-stained hair danced in the air. The woman who appeared frightened out of her wits to others was, at this moment, struggling to digest the memories forcibly shoved into her mind.

She shared the same name as her—Ling Ruoxi. She was the legitimate Eldest Miss of the Prime Minister's manor. On the night of her birthday, she had been violated. Her father had driven her out for the sake of his reputation, and her mother had hanged herself to prevent her from being cast out...

Hanged herself... She didn't know if it was the lingering feelings of the original owner, but Ling Ruoxi, who had never experienced maternal love, only felt a deep pain in her heart—a pain so intense there was nowhere to vent it. She lowered her dark eyes, dragged her agonizing body, and slowly stood up. She took one last look at the magnificent, imposing residence before her, and a cold sneer crept onto the corners of her mouth.

The next day, at the first light of dawn, two pieces of news exploded throughout the Imperial City. Not only had the Prime Minister's Eldest Miss, the greatest beauty of the Northern Ning Kingdom, been defiled, but the First Madam had hanged herself that very night, and her corpse had mysteriously vanished during the funeral!

Countless people speculated about which deity the Prime Minister's manor had offended to suffer such a catastrophe! Rumors spread that it was because the Eldest Miss, Ling Ruoxi, was cursed by fate; otherwise, how could such a series of events happen one after another?

Regardless of how people speculated, Ling Ruoxi, the person involved, had long since disappeared from the Imperial City. Nine miles outside the city, at Jiuli Mountain, wild grass grew wantonly on the peaks, and scattered stones could be seen everywhere. The air was filled with a thick, viscous smell of blood. On the muddy mountain path, countless carcasses of wild beasts lay scattered. The soil was irrigated with blood, and even the wild flowers nearby seemed to be stained with a sense of slaughter.

In the sea of corpses and blood, a row of bloody footprints was clearly visible. At the summit, a lonely grave stood desolate in the wind. A young girl in blood-stained clothes was struggling to erect a tombstone at the head of the grave. Her figure was thin and petite, yet she could carry a boulder weighing over a hundred pounds all by herself, her stance steady.

"Bang!"

The tombstone sank deep into the mud with a deafening sound. Ling Ruoxi fell to her knees with a thud and kowtowed heavily toward the stone. Her forehead was scraped bloody by the gravel, and her stained face no longer showed its former beauty, save for those eyes, which were as cold as a frozen pool and as deep as the night.

Ling Ruoxi stepped forward and carved a row of words into the stone: The Grave of Xue Qin, First Madam of the Prime Minister's Manor. Erected by her beloved daughter, Ling Ruoxi.

After kowtowing three more times to the tombstone, Ling Ruoxi stood up proudly and swore to the heavens, "Those who bullied me today, I will pay them back a hundredfold in the future!"

Every word was like a pearl, resonant and powerful. Each syllable carried a sense of determination and coldness, regardless of the cost.

She, Ling Ruoxi, would repay every kindness and settle every grudge!