Chapter One: Second Sister Song Descends from the Heavens

April in Chang’an swept away the gloom of previous days; the sky was dazzlingly bright and clear. By the embankment, clusters of spring willows swayed lush and soft, growing with abandon, making the bustling crowd seem even more lively and radiant. Ladies in vivid makeup and gentlemen adorned with jade pendants, Persian merchants, and strong horses, all made their way to Qujiang to enjoy the spring.

The city blooms everywhere in spring; the east wind bends the imperial willows during the Cold Food Festival.

It was indeed the Cold Food Festival—a statutory holiday in the Great Tang, lasting four whole days!

Even the emperor, shirking his duties, would bring his family to stroll among the verdant grass, enjoying the breeze and boating on Qujiang.

Yet, beneath the gilded surface of Qujiang, seemingly calm, turbulent undercurrents surged.

"Assassin! Protect His Majesty—"

A whistle pierced the serene sky, startling the birds above—shaped like chickens, crowing like phoenixes. Their droppings fell like a flood, as fierce as wild beasts, plunging into Qujiang.

Waves rose in alarm.

"The assassin is hiding among the painted boats, his tracks mysterious! Search them one by one!"

Orders were ironclad. Dozens of boats on Qujiang would rather kill by mistake than let anyone slip by. Anyone caught, if seven-tenths resembled an assassin, their head was chopped off for the King of Hell. If not, obstacles were cleared—whether dragged or kicked, they were tossed into Qujiang for a bath.

A dying sunset stretched across the water, half the river trembling, half ablaze. From the crimson side of Qujiang, Song Ruozhao poked her head out, cursing inwardly—

"This rotten luck! If it’s not getting blocked, it’s getting stitched up!"

Regaining consciousness, she struggled toward the shore, her body feeling as heavy as a thousand pounds. Though once a champion swimmer, now she floundered like a novice, as if entangled by aquatic weeds.

Pulled here and there, as if the thousand-armed Bodhisattva were clutching at her. Was this water grass possessed?

Luckily, someone thrust a bamboo pole thick as an arm toward her, hauled and tugged with all their might, and finally she was dragged ashore.

Her benefactor was Song Junior, dressed flamboyantly like a peacock, unfazed: "Second Sister, picking up another gentleman? Which household did you raid this time?"

Song Ruozhao, now second sister in this era, blinked at her newly acquired ‘household’…

Three ‘water grass spirits’ scrambled ashore after her: an uncle, a young man, and a dirty little bundle.

The uncle had swallowed enough water to suffer, his turban twisted by his hair, coughing bitterly as he spat out water, his attire swaying like a delivery rider’s kangaroo ears rattling over speed bumps.

The young man opened his eyes calmly, savoring the thrill of survival—until he saw bloodstains on his trousers and fainted in shock.

The dirty bundle looked like a lotus root freshly pulled from mud—unclean, but plump. Barely three years old, and first to be rescued.

Song Ruozhao’s gaze left the trio and swept over the poolside scene. The Tang Dynasty’s style was vividly displayed: women with hair buns, men with headscarves, noble ladies in high-waisted skirts, attendants in narrow-sleeved jackets. With the assassin at large, people rushed about—children calling for parents, couples searching for elders, all gathering together. Noble tents and canopies lay trampled in the chaos.

Immersed in the moment, Song Ruozhao was ecstatic: had the partner’s time tunnel project succeeded so perfectly?

Sure enough, the time travel wristband assigned by the Time-Space Company now glowed blue on her wrist.

[System notification: “Beep, welcome to Middle Tang. System detects a slight deviation; matched task: ‘Save Our Emperor.’ To continue binding, please reply.”]

"I refuse binding," Song Ruozhao replied crisply.

She had dreamed of glorious High Tang, not this Middle Tang where even eunuchs could ride roughshod over the emperor!

[System reply: Okay, keyword ‘binding’ detected, now bound for you!]

“……” She nearly fainted from rage.

“Perfect—fainting from coughing, shock, and anger. Add a child fainting, easy for me to package them all,” Song Junior calculated with delight.

---

The three ‘water grass spirits’: the eldest as brother-in-law, the youngest as nephew, and the middle one, Song Junior decided, could be a side chamber for Second Sister.

With a flourish of peacock-like robes, he mounted his rooster-fighting prize donkey, dragged along Second Sister’s new household, and the donkey, stung on its rump, trotted away.

When the curfew bells tolled, Chang’an, like a giant chessboard, closed its eyes; the last glimmer of light faded with the quieting of the world.

During the Cold Food Festival, every household banned fires.

At the most secluded corner of the Song residence, in a dark room with a single bed, four family members shared two mats.

Song Ruozhao enjoyed the main bed, pondering the usage of her time travel wristband, when the system popped up ‘The Legend of Jinhua.’

She almost closed her eyes, and memories blurred as if grafted together.

The Song family was a scholarly household; Song Father currently served as Simash of Raozhou. His life was unremarkable—fatherless in youth, widowed in middle age, but lucky enough in old age to have a son: the peacock Song Junior.

Every two years, he celebrated another daughter's coming-of-age, raising five daughters in succession.

Neighbors summed up the family: ‘Five Golden Flowers, One Straw Sack.’

The gentle eldest sister, first in talent and virtue.

The simple-minded second sister, forever two years old.

The clever third sister, triple-tongued.

The graceful fourth sister, a master of the four arts.

The shy fifth sister, composing poetry in five steps.

The straw sack sixth brother, thriving with livestock.

Song Junior, always fighting cocks and keeping dogs, living among livestock—it suited him.

But why include the simple-minded second sister among the ‘Golden Flowers’?

Because her nickname was Jinhua—Golden Flower!

Rumor had it that Jinhua learned to speak at eight, walk at five, shake her head at three, but cried from birth.

Now twenty, she only knew how to cry.

If the eldest didn’t teach her, she cried.

If the third scolded her, she cried.

If the fourth splattered ink on her, she cried.

If the fifth tripped her, she’d get up and keep crying.

Every husband she picked up, Song Junior would chase off, and she’d only cry.

Song Father never worried about matches; with four daughters of talent and beauty, suitors abounded.

As for the second daughter…

Though not bright, she could pick husbands.

Six years ago, during a rebellion of four princes and two emperors, she picked up an injured man as husband. Song Junior extorted 400 coins, but the man had a beautiful wife, stole the door bolt as a crutch, and fled overnight.

Four years ago, just after peace, she found a dozing gentleman at a bridge; Song Junior extorted 800 coins. Turned out he was already a father, dismantled the door, and ran.

---

Two years ago, in peaceful times, she caught a man mesmerized by her beauty, tied him tightly to her bed, only to discover he was already a grandfather!

Song Junior had some skill at extortion, earning a whole string of coins. Alas, this young grandfather was strong—a single thunderous palm shattered the bed, and he escaped!

With business booming, Song Junior woke each morning thinking about the bride price for the next deal.

The broken window let in piercing sunlight. After a night, Song Ruozhao found no interest in ‘The Legend of Jinhua,’ and summoned her wristband.

"Hey, I don’t want ‘The Legend of Jinhua.’ The contract clearly stated the destination was Gan-ye Temple—"

The system replied, monotone: [Master, I don’t understand. Try different words.]

Song Ruozhao rephrased: "I want to go to Gan-ye Temple, find Wu Zetian, deliver warmth, build my reputation! Get promoted, earn more, and enjoy life!"

[System: Master, I’m still learning. Please teach me how to get promoted, earn more, and enjoy life?]

“… Who’s asking whom here?”

Suddenly she remembered the creature assigned to carry her through time, who got scared halfway, dumped her into Qujiang during its panic, and vanished.

She gritted her teeth: "I want to file a complaint! Your company’s driver abandoned me!"

[System: Not abandonment, as the Chongming bird itself got lost.]

Song Ruozhao: "……"

The system was infuriatingly dull. She tried: "Switch to human customer service."

[System: Human service unavailable. I am Xiao Liu, your AI assistant. Please consult me first, Master.]

“… Such dark humor.”

Song Ruozhao: "I am consulting you, but your answers don’t solve my problems!"

[System: Regardless of the solution, did I answer or not?]

“……”

"At least you should know who I am, where I am, and what I’m doing?"

[System: After crossing, your identity is the Song family’s simple-minded daughter whom you studied. You’re in the third year of Zhenyuan, during Emperor Dezong Li Shuo’s reign. From this period onward, every emperor suffers at the hands of eunuchs. Task: ‘Save Our Emperor.’ Current progress 1%.]

[First task completed. Rewarding you…]

So today’s rescue was of the emperor! Song Ruozhao pricked up her ears, expecting a generous reward.

[Reward: Rescue the emperor again tomorrow night. Thank you for your cooperation.]

??? Utterly baffling.

The system was so obtuse, no explanation could be clear.

Thanks to the system, she lived in the moment and fretted about tomorrow night.

Fine. She pointed at the three unconscious ‘water grass spirits’ on the mat. "Stupid system, which one is the emperor?"

[System: The uncle with kangaroo ears is Emperor Li Shuo. The adorable child beside him is Crown Grandson Li Chun.]

"And who is the most handsome young man?"

[System: Facial recognition in progress, please wait…]