Após a troca de casamento sem ser o grupo de comparação, tornei-me a matriarca da casa do marquês.

Kangyuan, eighth year.

In the dimly lit room, the candle flickered.

Green Willow, who was working on her embroidery, suddenly felt a chill and shuddered involuntarily.

“My lady, are you cold?”

Without waiting for a reply, she set aside her needlework and went to close the window herself.

As she turned back, she was startled to see her mistress seated before the dressing mirror at some unknown moment. The wavering candlelight cast shifting shadows across the girl’s fair face. With her head slightly bowed, her delicate hand traced her own cheek, gazing fixedly at her reflection. A faint smile rippled across her lips, but in the dim light, that smile seemed almost twisted.

Though she had served her young mistress day and night, this scene unsettled Green Willow profoundly.

“My lady?” she called out, forcing herself to speak though her voice trembled.

Lin Jian—no, she was now Lin Menghua.

Having just returned from the Underworld, she had failed to mask the lingering chill from the netherworld in time, inadvertently frightening the living—her fault.

Lin Menghua quickly regained her composure, offering a smile befitting the living. “Is something wrong?”

Only then did Green Willow breathe a sigh of relief. “Nothing at all.”

“Very well.” Lin Menghua returned to the bed and closed her eyes.

This body’s name was Lin Menghua. As for her, Lin Jian, she had been a staff member at the Underworld Relief Center, now acting as Lin Menghua’s agent, here to help her dispel resentment and regret, smoothing her way