The morning was calm, almost deceptively so. The sky stretched pale blue over Linhe Village, the crisp smell of frost lingering in the air.
Ruan Yue was outside in her small yard, mending a tear in her jacket by the weak sunlight. She wasn't great at sewing — her stitches were small but uneven, a habit carried over from her original life where she could just buy another coat instead of fixing one.
She'd always been practical, never sentimental about things. People mistook that for coldness. But the truth was, Ruan Yue rarely invested emotion where she couldn't see a return. Life had taught her to keep her kindness on a leash.
The system called it "self-preservation."
The villagers called it "selfishness."
Her attention was broken by the distant rattle of a bicycle. The sound grew louder until a tall man pedaled into view, coat flapping in the wind. A woman sat on the back rack, holding onto a bundle of cloth with one arm, her other hand clutching his shoulder.
When they stopped in the middle of the lane, several neighbors peeked out from their gates.
Ruan Yue's brows knit. She knew that face — round, powdered, with lips curled in a smile that never reached her eyes.
Liu Chunhua.
In the novel, Chunhua was the kind of opportunist who sniffed out weakness like a hound. She had been a distant relative of Ruan Yue's late husband and, more importantly, the one who'd started several of the nastiest rumors about the "widow's" supposed affairs. She'd moved to a nearby county years ago.
Why was she back now?
Her answer came soon enough.
Chunhua spotted her instantly and called out, "Oh, Cousin Ruan! Still living here, I see."
Ruan Yue didn't bother to get up from her stool. "Looks like it."
Chunhua walked over, her voice pitched loud enough for everyone lingering nearby to hear. "I've come to stay a while — the county's too noisy. And besides, I heard you've been keeping yourself busy lately."
That last word dripped with insinuation.
> Ding! New Threat Detected: Potential rumor source. Risk to reputation: High.
Ruan Yue kept her tone even. "If you've come here to eat my food and spread stories, I suggest you unpack somewhere else."
"Oh, don't be like that," Chunhua said sweetly. "We're family. I'd never spread anything untrue."
Which, in Ruan Yue's experience, meant she would spread everything with a twist until it barely resembled the truth.
From the corner of her eye, she noticed Shen Wenxiu passing down the lane, pushing his bicycle. His gaze flicked briefly toward her and Chunhua — just enough to let her know he'd seen. Great. Another potential misunderstanding waiting to happen.
Chunhua followed her gaze and smirked. "Ah, so that's Shen Wenxiu, isn't it? I heard you two…"
"Stop talking," Ruan Yue said flatly, standing and brushing off her hands. "If you're staying, then stay. But if you try anything, you'll find I'm not the same Ruan Yue you remember."
Chunhua tilted her head, clearly intrigued by the change in tone.
---
That night, as she cooked a thin cabbage soup for dinner, the system spoke again:
> Warning: Liu Chunhua will attempt to damage your relationship with Zhao Xiuxiu within the week. Recommended action: preemptive countermeasures.
Ruan Yue snorted. "So you're telling me to start a fight before she does?"
> Negative. Suggest securing the heroine's trust.
That was the tricky part. Trust wasn't something Ruan Yue asked for — she earned it in small, deliberate ways. In her original life, she'd been selective with her loyalty, which made her dependable to the few who truly knew her… and a thorn to everyone else.
Now, in this village, that same guarded nature was both her shield and her prison.
As she sipped her soup, her mind worked over the problem. If Chunhua really wanted to stir trouble, she wouldn't start with Shen Wenxiu — she'd start with Xiuxiu, whose kindness made her an easy mark.
And if Ruan Yue wanted to keep herself alive, she'd need to make sure the girl saw her as an ally before anyone could convince her otherwise.
But that meant getting closer.
And getting closer meant… stepping directly into the plot she was supposed to break.
---
By the time she blew out the lamp, her decision was made.
If Chunhua wanted to play her games, Ruan Yue would meet her on the same board — but with sharper moves.
She wasn't the same desperate widow from before.
This time, she'd be the one setting the trap.