Health is the foundation of revolution. Cold Wanyuan, deeply aware of this truth, knew well—without a strong body, what capital did she have to play with? Could she really rely on her currently frail frame? Looking at herself now, so delicate and thin that even a gentle breeze could knock her over, she could easily imagine how someone’s mere finger-tip could overwhelm her. Who else would dare to treat her otherwise? So, her very first step in this ancient world was to nurture her body. That slight bruise on her face—definitely a minor matter for the first princess of one of the foremost clans—and even more so with her healing spiritual energy. Ah, just a simple stretch and the redness would vanish. The real challenge now, however, was to build up this slender frame into something sturdy. After careful planning, she devised her fitness trilogy. First: nourishment—undoubtedly essential; her frail figure clearly signaled underdevelopment. Second: sunbathing—this body’s former owner must have been a mere child, constantly hunched and obedient, bullied all day long. Otherwise, how could it be so pale, almost devoid of color? Now, she would expose herself to the morning sunlight, striving for healthier skin tone. Third: running—though her current frame made each stride a challenge, in order to have real strength, she was willing to persevere. With this fitness plan firmly set in motion, she began putting it into practice. On Day One, when she told her nanny that she wished to strengthen her body and requested richer meals, the nanny burst into tears—overwhelmed with both joy and sorrow. Having listened patiently through the entire emotional outpouring, Cold Wanyuan’s inner rage flared anew. It had become clear: this little girl's food and clothing were being systematically withheld by other ladies of the household. How could she grow so frail under such treatment? After all, her mother had been a noble lady, daughter of a general—how could they treat her thus with such disregard? Truly, it was unbearable. She would soon find those ungrateful servants to reckon with. The direct route might not work; instead, she would pursue an indirect approach. Grasping the nanny’s weathered hand in hers, she whispered urgently at her ear, while nodding steadily. The nanny listened intently, her eyes fixed upon Cold Wanyuan, wide and amazed. Cold Wanyuan felt a little uneasy under this steady gaze—she knew now that her demeanor had changed completely from that of the small, helpless child she once was. But acting as a simple performance was only temporary; her creed was always to live authentically, to follow what truly came naturally within herself. So she made up her mind: no more pretending. If discovered different, then so be it—her body remained frail, and in truth, she hadn’t lied. “Nanny,” Cold Wanyuan lifted her head to meet the nanny’s eyes, her small face now radiating a calm strength that was utterly unlike its former self—cold, even, enough to make the nanny shiver. “Yes, yes,” nodded the nanny, blinking rapidly. “I can see how different she has become. Her expression is so vibrant now, like just awakened from sleep. So sharp, so composed—it’s as if she’s grown into someone entirely new. How could this be? Though I don’t have a very sharp mind myself, I sense something truly changed in her. This small frame carries the maturity of an adult—even resembling that of the general.” “Nanny,” said Cold Wanyuan, satisfied with the change—now she no longer just cried and wept. But she knew she still needed to perform fully. Lowering her head slightly, her curled lashes flickered gently as she cast a shadow over her face, appearing utterly helpless. “You know well how they have treated me, don’t you? And especially how my mother was tragically taken—what if I don’t grow up, what then?” “Oh… no, that can’t be,” stammered the nanny, eyes filled with alarm. Though the household treatment had been harsh, it didn’t seem to threaten her life. After all, she was only a child of such tender years. “No way?” Cold Wanyuan lifted her head again, now displaying a fierce, mature anger that belied her age. “I don’t remember much from before—yet you should know the story well. This time, I lost my memory due to this injury—but what about next time?” “Indeed,” murmured the nanny, startled by how true it was. In over a dozen years at the general’s household, she had witnessed countless injustices and tragedies. Countless people had died under circumstances so obscure they seemed forgotten. Now, looking at this very child—once considered a noble princess—yet constantly overlooked and bullied by others, and now treated as nothing more than an ordinary girl, it felt like only time would reveal the full depth of her suffering. “Nanny,” said Cold Wanyuan, her bright eyes glistening with tears, her expression both vulnerable and earnest. “You’re my only one.” “I won’t leave you,” the nanny responded, heart fluttering as she reached out to embrace her tightly. “I’ll always be your nanny.” “No matter how I change?” Cold Wanyuan continued, pretending to sob softly while actually breathing deeply—oh, this woman was truly emotional; she nearly choked under the warmth of the embrace. “Of course,” said the nanny, firm and steady. “No matter what shape you take, you’ll always be my little lady.” “And now,” said Cold Wanyuan, pushing gently away from her, smiling softly. “Please go about your duties.” Huh? The now-moved-to-eyes-of-the-nanny was suddenly pushed aside—confused and disoriented. When she looked again, there were no visible tears on the young girl’s face—only a soft, composed smile. If it weren’t for having just seen that tear-streaked moment, she would have thought her imagination had truly failed her. Gently pressing her hand against her chest, the nanny nodded and quietly went to collect what was needed for Cold Wanyuan. From then on, the nanny began to accept this shift in the young lady’s temperament as simply part of growth. She automatically attributed it to maturity—though she herself had forgotten that her charge was only three years old. How could a child at such a tender age possess such depth and insight? The fitness plan gradually unfolded. Each morning, before sunrise, Cold Wanyuan would rise from her warm bed, making the most of her slender frame by jogging through the small courtyard. Her body, however, remained delicate—on the first morning run, she struggled to keep up just a few minutes before gasping for breath and nearly collapsing. After enduring two laps with great effort, she sat down on the roadside, breathing deeply. The nanny’s cry of surprise echoed as she gently pulled her back to wash and dress. The routine of washing was far from smooth—there were no toothbrushes or toothpaste; only plain water for face-washing, and brushing teeth reduced to simply rinsing with salt water. By the time the sun rose fully—slowly emerging from its cozy nest, revealing a rosy complexion—and the courtyard shimmered under golden light, Cold Wanyuan had already adapted. Sunlight poured over her as she moved, gently warming her skin. A breeze brushed past, cool and soothing—as if being softly caressed. Birds sang all around; every sound seemed to carry away her lingering fatigue, leaving behind a profound sense of peace and comfort. Entranced by the joys of sunbathing, the nanny grew increasingly enthusiastic about Cold Wanyuan’s fitness program. Over time, one could often see in that quiet courtyard—a middle-aged woman jogging alongside a young child—each morning at dawn. Fortunately, the courtyard was secluded, unnoticed by others. Otherwise, the whispers and murmurs would surely spread throughout the general's household. Time moved steadily forward. Four months had passed since Cold Wanyuan’s arrival in this world. Though still slender, her complexion had transformed from pale to rosy, and her height had grown noticeably. Her dark hair was now neatly braided into twin buns resting gently at her ears. Dressed in a narrow-sleeved robe embroidered with peonies, a silver bell chain hung gracefully at her waist—each step produced a crisp, clear chime, rendering her a truly exquisite young girl, delicate as porcelain. From the nanny, Cold Wanyuan gathered enough background about this world—the current era was the Tian Yao Dynasty. The reigning emperor, Xuan Yuan, was only fourteen years old, temperament volatile and driven by constant urgency. In just two years on the throne, he had transformed the dynasty into a power equal to the three major neighbors—Ye Liao, Bei Bang, and Xi Chu—establishing a balanced, four-power structure. Her father, General Yun Pei Yuan, though reserved and proud, held deep trust from the young emperor and commanded substantial military strength in his region. As both minister and general, he worked alongside the capable prime minister to govern the realm. Cold Wanyuan’s clear eyes sparkled with recognition—ah, how interesting! A volatile young monarch, a powerful general commanding the throne, and a wise, steady prime minister—all suggesting deep political currents beneath the surface of daily affairs. Her lips curved slightly as she smiled—a quiet, knowing smirk—her gaze already drifting toward future intrigues: "The drama is just beginning," she murmured. Merry New Year’s wishes! And here we are, still in the second installment—ah, what a delightful turn this has taken! 😊