The red wedding sedan sent to bring her home stopped in front of the deserted Wenren family estate. There was no one to welcome her, no one to call her Miss—the entire household was waiting for the fake daughter who had usurped the magpie's nest for fifteen years, while she, the true daughter, was left alone in the wind. Without making a fuss or a scene, she carried a wooden chest so heavy that even Foundation Establishment cultivators could not lift it, and calmly stepped into this mansion that exuded strangeness everywhere. At the dining table, the whole family acted out a play; in the ancestral hall, a dragon shadow coiled; even the dust-covered sparrow on her shoulder and the thousand-year-old unhatched dragon egg in her arms harbored monumental secrets.