Chapter 1: The Ancestor’s Morning Breath

The smell of burning rubber and cheap gasoline was the first thing to greet her. It was a pathetic, mechanical scent—nothing like the fragrance of sandalwood and blood she was used to.

In the bottom of the "Black Ghost Ravine," a crumpled silver sedan lay upside down like a dying insect. Smoke curled from the engine, and the silence of the forest was broken only by the rhythmic drip-drip-drip of fuel hitting the dry leaves.

Inside the wreckage, the girl known as Lin Ran was dead.

Her neck was bent at an impossible angle, her "ugly" face—marred by jagged, ink-black veins—was pressed into the shattered glass of the windshield. This was the moment the Lin family had planned. This was the "accident" that would erase the countryside embarrassment so the "Golden Daughter," Sofia, could shine.

Then, the air in the ravine turned cold.

Not just chilly—absolute zero.

The shadows under the trees began to crawl, stretching toward the car like worshipping subjects. A low, rhythmic thrumming vibrated through the earth, as if the planet itself were shivering.

CRACK.

The sound echoed through the canyon. It was the sound of bone snapping back into place.

The "corpse" moved.

Lin Ran’s hand, pale and stained with dirt, twitched. With a sickening series of pops and wet crunches, her spine straightened. Her head tilted back, and her neck reset itself with a violent jolt.

Slowly, the girl’s eyes opened.

They weren't the tear-filled, timid eyes of a rejected daughter. They were ancient, bottomless pits of golden-flecked darkness—eyes that had watched empires crumble and gods beg for mercy.

"What a... noisy era," a voice rasped. It was Lin Ran’s voice, but the tone was heavy with the weight of nine millennia.

The Zombie Ancestor, the one who had slept through the rise and fall of civilizations, took her first breath in 9,000 years. She coughed, spitting out a mouthful of blood and a shard of glass.

"Weak," she whispered, looking at her thin, bruised arms. "This body is made of paper. No... it's made of wet paper."

She felt the memories of the original Lin Ran flickering in her mind like a dying candle: the bullying at the countryside school, the biological father who looked at her with disgust, the "Golden Sister" who had sent these men to kill her today.

A cold, sharp smile touched her lips.

"Don't worry, little ghost," she murmured to the fading soul of the original girl. "Since I’ve borrowed your 'paper' body, I’ll pay the rent. I’ll start by turning your enemies into the dirt beneath my feet."

Above the ravine, footsteps crunched on the gravel.

"Is she dead?" a man’s voice called out.

"Has to be. Nobody survives a drop like that. Get down there, take the photo of her face so Miss Sofia can pay us, and let’s get out of here. This place is creepy."

Two men in leather jackets slid down the embankment, flashlights cutting through the gloom. They reached the car and shone the light inside.

The driver’s seat was empty.

"What the—? Where is she?"

"Over here, Junior."

The men spun around.

Lin Ran was sitting on a mossy rock five feet away. She was covered in blood, her cheap floral shirt was shredded, and she was casually holding a rusted piece of the car's bumper as if it were a royal scepter.

Despite her injuries, she looked bored. She looked like she was waiting for a bus.

"You..." the lead thug stammered, dropping his flashlight. "You should be dead! Your neck was broken!"

Lin Ran tilted her head, her black "vein" marks pulsing with a faint, eerie light. "My neck was indeed broken. It was very inconvenient. It made a terrible sound."

She stood up. Her movements were fluid, like water, but there was a terrifying heaviness to her footsteps. The ground seemed to groan under her flip-flops.

"Who sent you?" she asked, her voice calm. "Was it the girl who smells like fake lilies and insecurity? Sofia?"

"Kill her! Just kill her again!" the leader screamed, pulling out a switchblade.

He lunged. In the "Ancient World," this man wouldn't have been fit to be a footman's footman. To the Ancestor, his movement was so slow it was practically a photograph.

Lin Ran didn't even dodge. She simply reached out and caught the blade between two fingers.

Cling.

The steel snapped like a dry twig.

Before the man could scream, she stepped into his shadow. She placed a hand on his chest. It wasn't a punch; it was a gentle touch.

"Borrowing a bit of your 'life' to fix my skin," she whispered. "Be grateful. It’s the most useful thing you’ll ever do."

A visible gray mist was sucked out of the man’s mouth and into Lin Ran’s palm. He didn't even have time to cry out before he collapsed, his skin turning gray and withered as if he had aged fifty years in a second.

The second thug turned to run, his legs shaking so hard he fell over. "Monster! You're a monster!"

Lin Ran ignored him. she looked at her arm. The deep gashes from the car crash were knitting together, leaving behind faint, silver lines. The black veins on her face receded slightly, revealing a glimpse of a jawline so sharp it could cut silk.

She turned her gaze to the remaining thug, who was now sobbing and crawling away.

"Go back to the Lin family," she said, her voice echoing in the ravine. "Tell them the 'ugly girl' is coming home. Tell them I’m bringing a gift."

She looked down at the broken piece of the silver sedan in her hand.

"And tell the Lu family... I’ve decided to keep the engagement. After all, I need a servant to carry my snacks, and a 'Fiancé' sounds like a fancy word for a butler."

She began to walk. Every step she took, the grass behind her turned to ash, and the ghosts of the ravine bowed their heads in the shadows.

The Ancestor was back. And she was very, very hungry.

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