I read the scene where Weiwei hides in the wardrobe five times. FIVE times. I am not okay. She's been through something terrifying — Lu Yan barged in while she was sleeping, attacked her, smashed her room — and she just curls up inside a piece of furniture like a little turtle. Lu Jianshen is outside her door, face bruised from defending her, begging her to come out, and she won't. Not even for her own brother. Song Zhiyao figures it out immediately. She sends everyone away — the father, the brother, the grandmother — and stays alone with the girl. She doesn't force her out. She doesn't even open the door fully. She just... sits there and tells a story. A story about a little lamb and a demon king. And she pauses at the most important part, knowing the child is listening, knowing the child wants to hear what happens next. When the door finally cracks open and one tear-filled eye peeks out, I literally felt my chest tighten. "My little lamb... my little lamb is broken," Song Zhiyao thinks. And then she says to the girl: "I'm sorry... Mommy didn't protect you." Not "you're safe now." Not "everything's fine." She takes responsibility. She feels it as her failure. That is the kind of maternal instinct that doesn't need biology to be real. And the detail about Lu Jianwei clutching a handful of cotton — that small, fragile gesture of someone trying to comfort themselves — I can't stop thinking about it. The fact that Lu Jianshen was pacing outside, suspicious and angry, ready to burst in and accuse Song Zhiyao of harming his sister... and then sees her come out with Weiwei clinging to her neck like a lifeline. His relief is palpable even through the page. He finally understands, maybe, that this woman isn't the enemy.
Okay so let me just say—this opening is a masterclass in slow-burn dread. The author drops us right into Jingyao's backstory with her birth on Qingming Festival, premature, sickly, and then BOOM, the Chongxi ritual at age ten. That scene with the red rooster and the blood-moon? Chilling. And the way the plot threads are woven together is brilliant. The mother's warnings about men, the jade plaque, the near-misses with death (the truck, the bus crash)—all of it builds this underlying sense that Jingyao is somehow protected but also trapped. And then university hits, and we get Song Lin. The senior who seems perfect on paper but whose car ride takes a wrong turn into nowhere. That moment when Jingyao realizes they're not on the road back to campus? My heart dropped. And those whispers in the KTV about someone sitting in the corner who disappears when looked at? The author is playing with us like a cat with a mouse. The plot has this beautiful dual tension—what happened with the Chongxi husband, and what is Song Lin actually up to? Are they connected? I'm already theorizing that Song Lin might not be entirely human, or at the very least, he's connected to the supernatural world Jingyao was pulled into as a child. The pacing is deliberate but never boring. Every chapter ends on a hook that makes you immediately want the next one.
"He thought you were my girlfriend." "And he said we make a very good-looking couple." I am not okay. I repeat, I am NOT okay with how good this dialogue is. Danzeng delivering those lines with a "perfectly serious expression" while Lin Mo's face turns into a tomato is the kind of writing that makes you want to throw your phone across the room because you're too excited to hold it. But here's what's really impressive — it's not just the romantic beats. The author gives every character a distinct voice. Mola/Qumu greets them with "Danzeng Tashi! Lin Mo Dolma! You've come! Quick, come sit down!" — that's warmth in three sentences. The children yelling "Brother Danzeng! Brother Danzeng is back!" while surrounding him like he's some kind of mountain superhero — that's not dialogue, that's a whole character study in one line. And Lin Mo's dialogue! When she's milking the cow and accidentally splashing milk everywhere, she doesn't say anything dramatic. She just... frowns and tries again. That silence speaks volumes. Her nervousness with Principal Ciren — "These are some of my certificates and awards" — the way she lays out her credentials like she's trying to prove she belongs in this mountain village? That's character through dialogue, not narration. The narrative voice itself is also worth praising. It's observant without being overwrought. Lines like "The silence between them wasn't uncomfortable. If anything, it felt increasingly dangerous" — that's the author's voice whispering directly to the reader, and it's doing it with such restraint that it hits harder than any dramatic declaration could. One thing that surprised me: the online comments on Lin Mo's art. "Where is this place? It's absolutely gorgeous!" "The artist's brushwork feels alive!" — these feel like real internet comments, not placeholder text. The author clearly put thought into making the digital world feel authentic too. Honestly, the dialogue in this section is the kind that makes you reread passages out loud. Danzeng's teasing, Lin Mo's flustered sincerity, the quiet moments where characters say almost nothing and mean everything. That's craft.
There are so many symbols stacked in these chapters that I can barely contain myself. Let's start with the medicine. It appears twice, and each time it means something different. First, Nanny Zhang is carrying a packet of medicine for Qin Shu—something meant to heal, to soothe her chronic illness. When it spills and mixes with dirt, it's the moment Qin Shu's last connection to care and compassion is corrupted. She doesn't pick it up. Instead, she picks up the dirty powder and rubs it between her fingers. Is this self-harm? Is this a ritual? Is she literally incorporating the filth into herself, accepting that she is now part of this broken, dirty world? I keep thinking about it. Then the boiling medicine becomes a weapon. Qin Yan uses it to burn Qin Shu's hand. The same substance that was meant to heal is now used to hurt. That's not subtle, but it's powerful. And the burn leaves blisters—visible, marked, permanent. Qin Shu carries this wound into the next chapter, into her silence, into whatever comes next. The broken bowl is another symbol I can't shake. Qin Shu picking up sharp porcelain fragments with her good hand, cutting her fingers, blood mixing with medicine and dust. It's such a visceral image of self-destruction and self-reliance existing at the same time. She's harming herself, yes, but she's also cleaning up her own mess. No one is coming to help her. She has always known this, but these chapters make it absolute. And the fire imagery—"the tiny dark flame buried deep inside her finally broke free of every restraint. It erupted into a blazing inferno." This is the thematic core of the passage. The fire that was always there, smoldering under years of abuse and betrayal, is now uncontained. The ice (her pallor, her silence, the cold courtyard) and the fire (her rage, her awakening) are in direct conflict, and I have a feeling the fire is going to win. The pomegranate tree outside her window is dead. No fruit. No leaves. Just branches. But pomegranates in literature often symbolize fertility, family, abundance—everything Qin Shu has been denied. A dead pomegranate tree in her courtyard feels like the author's way of saying: this family is dead, and she is its last living remnant. I'm not okay. I need to read more immediately.
I hope for a perfect 5. I have high hopes for this book
Am loving the thrill here. This novel is getting more and more interesting. Please don't miss out on the upcoming interesting chapters??
It's certainly is worth a read, it is so good that I just want to read more of.
We all love necromancy.I love it too, thanks to Solo Leveling. Novels with necromancy have always been one my favorites, and I even wanted to add some necromancy to my own novel.Although there are only four chapters so far, the writing is solid, with no grammatical mistakes or inconsistencies.The author has managed to bring out the personalities of multiple characters within just four chapters, which definitely requires skill.A good novel! highly recommended to everyone!
update a new chapter already!!!!!it's already been 3 days!!!
I think its a good story with an engaging male character also he is ruthless and develops every chapter but still, I think author needs to focus on a little refined writing that way I think it will be better for story in long term still I really liked it waiting for future updates
this needs to be on the top 10!! its's readlly good. can't wait for chapter 26!
This is a wonderful bookRead a few chapters so far and I’m glued……Character development is amazing I want more updates