Just before dawn—
A thin cry pierced the storm.
Small.
Fragile.
But alive.
The midwife exhaled shakily.
"A boy."
Too small.
Skin pale.
Breathing uneven.
Eight-month children often did not survive the first night.
Lady Lin reached out immediately.
"Let me hold him."
"You must rest—"
"Give him to me."
Her voice was soft.
But it allowed no refusal.
When the child was placed in her arms, he felt lighter than silk.
His fingers curled instinctively around her sleeve.
So small.
So warm.
So real.
Tears slid silently from the corners of her eyes.
Not loud.
Not dramatic.
Just quiet relief.
"You will not return there," she whispered to him.
"No matter who comes."
At that same hour—
Far away in the capital—
Regent Zhao stood in the ancestral hall.
The memorial tablet had been placed.
Incense burned steadily before her name.
For reasons he could not explain—
His chest felt unbearably tight.
As if something had been taken from him.
Or born into the world without his knowledge.
He dismissed the feeling.
Because the dead do not give birth.
Back in the countryside—
The midwife wrapped the child carefully in thick cloth.
"We must keep him warm. Premature infants are fragile."
Lady Lin nodded faintly.
Her face was pale, but her gaze was steady now.
The fire had not killed her.
The court had not broken her.
And this child—
Would not be sacrificed to anyone's regret.
Outside, the storm finally began to calm.
Inside, a new life breathed softly against her chest.
And for the first time—
She did not feel abandoned.
She felt needed.The small valley was surrounded by tall green hills and narrow streams. It was quiet, hidden from the main road — a place where travelers rarely passed.
The old lady, Granny Wen, lived there with her grandson.
The young man's name was Li Shen.
They had brought the unconscious woman to their simple wooden house near the fields.
One month later.
The early morning sunlight entered through the window.
Granny Wen adjusted the blankets on the bed.
"She still hasn't opened her eyes," she muttered.
Li Shen stood by the door, holding a bowl of herbal medicine.
"Her pulse is steady. Stronger than before."
Granny Wen sighed.
"She survived childbirth. That alone is a miracle. But her mind… perhaps it escaped somewhere it doesn't wish to return from."
Beside the bed, the baby slept in a woven cradle. Thin but alive.
Li Shen looked at the child quietly.
"The boy has strong lungs. He will live."
Granny Wen glanced at him.
"You speak like you are certain."
Li Shen didn't answer immediately.
"I have seen worse situations on the battlefield."
Granny Wen's eyes sharpened slightly.
"You rarely speak of that."
He gave a faint smile.
"Because this valley is peaceful. Let it stay that way."
Suddenly—
A faint movement.
The woman's fingers twitched.
Granny Wen froze.
"Shen."
He was already beside the bed.
Her breathing became uneven. Her brows furrowed as if trapped in a nightmare.
Sweat formed on her forehead.
In her dream—
Flames.
Bandits laughing.
The Regent turning away.
Cold snow.
Pain tearing through her body.
Then darkness.
Her lips trembled.
"…Don't…"
A single tear slipped from the corner of her eye.
Li Shen's hand instinctively steadied the bed.
"She's fighting something."
Granny Wen leaned closer.
"Child… wake up. Your son is waiting."
At the word "son"—
Her eyelids trembled violently.
Then slowly…
Very slowly…
Her eyes opened.
They were confused.
Lost.
Not recognizing the wooden ceiling above her.
She whispered hoarsely,
"…Where… am I?"
Li Shen and Granny Wen exchanged a look.
Granny Wen spoke gently,
"You are safe. In the Green Willow Valley."
The woman's eyes moved toward the cradle.
The baby stirred and gave a small cry.
Something inside her shattered and reformed at the same time.
Tears streamed silently.
"My… child…"
Her voice broke.
Li Shen stepped back quietly, giving space.
But his gaze remained sharp.
Because he knew—
A woman who survives death once
either becomes fragile forever…
Or becomes someone the world should fea
She wakes in a quiet valley surrounded by mountains. A reclusive herbalist family saved her — simple villagers who live far from court politics.
Her body is weak. Her child is born prematurely but survives.
For one month, she remains unconscious.
During that month:
The regent suppresses the rebellion.
The female doctor remains by his side.
Rumors spread in the capital that the regent's wife died in the fire.
He never searches deeply.
Not because he hates her.
But because he already believed she was gone.
She sitting alone in the room
She remembered:
She transmigrated as a baby.
This world is a tragic political novel.
She is the regent's first wife.
She is meant to die in childbirth after kidnapping.
The female doctor becomes the true heroine.
And then—
She gave birth.
And collapsed.
For one full month, she remains unconscious in the small valley.
But inside her mind, she is not asleep.
She is reliving the novel's plot.
She sees future fragments:
The regent ascending higher in power.
The female doctor standing beside him.
Her own name erased from records.
When she finally opens her eyes—
She does not cry.
She smiles faintly.
Because she already knows what is supposed to happen next.
And she is still alive.
The herbalist family tells her:
"No one came."
She nods calmly.
Of course no one came.
In the novel, he never searched deeply.
He assumed she died.
She does not blame him.
Because now she understands—
He was written to love the heroine.
Not her.
But stories can be rewritten.