Chapter 3: Nine Years of Hell and the Twisted Truth
To speak of the original Yan Tangtang is to speak of a fate truly beyond wretched.
The mercenary couple, the Yans, were focused solely on their own cultivation; the child meant absolutely nothing to them.
They simply paid an ordinary village woman to feed the infant and keep her alive.
One must understand that for cultivators, mundane currency is practically worthless—it is something they wouldn't even deign to look at. Yet, even then, the Yan couple was unwilling to spend a single copper more than necessary on Yan Tangtang. Had the mastermind behind the swap not strictly ordered them to keep the child alive, they would have abandoned her in a ditch long ago.
In the end, they only obeyed because that individual was far more powerful than they could ever hope to be. Furthermore, while they harbored no affection for the child, knowing their own biological daughter was in the hands of others made them begrudgingly spend a pittance on Yan Tangtang's survival—just to avoid any future complications. But it truly was a pittance.
Despite being cultivators who had no need for worldly wealth, the Yans refused to buy even a single servant for the girl. Instead, they tucked her away in a remote, desolate village, paying a local woman just enough to ensure she didn't starve. That was the extent of it—just food. There was no care, no warmth, and no one to stay by her side during the long nights.
Yan Tangtang, they say, lived in absolute solitude from the time she was a small child.
The Yan couple would only bother to check if she was still breathing once every few months. This cycle of neglect continued until she reached the age of sixteen.
In the novel, the original Yan Tangtang was described as an "ugly duckling" during her childhood, yet the narrative also mentioned her "stunning beauty" upon reaching adulthood. It was likely that while she appeared gaunt and unsightly as a child due to neglect, she blossomed into a beautiful young woman as she matured.
When the Yans came to see her on her sixteenth birthday, they brought along a fellow mercenary from their group. The moment the man laid eyes on the fresh, youthful girl, a predatory desire ignited within him. In a move of staggering cruelty, the Yan couple traded Yan Tangtang's innocence to the man in exchange for a single low-grade spirit pill.
How utterly abhorrent.
The current Yan Tangtang dared not even imagine what the original girl must have felt in that moment.
Though the novel didn't explicitly detail her internal state, there was no question that the original Yan Tangtang had regarded the Yans as her parents. To realize that your own parents would sell you for the price of a single, low-quality pill...
My god, the author was a total psychopath, she thought bitterly. The way they had systematically dismantled and tortured this character was merciless.
But the original Yan Tangtang's misfortune was far from over. A few days later, the mercenary returned to the Yans and asked to buy the girl outright.
Knowing their comrade's habit of never returning to a "meal" he had already finished, the Yans grew suspicious. Upon investigating, they discovered the hidden truth: Yan Tangtang's body was unique.
It wasn't a Yin Constitution, nor was it a body designed for dual cultivation, but it possessed a rare trait: The Power of Tranquility.
Mercenaries often walk a path of blood and sin. Their minds are frequently clouded by dark emotions and the subconscious guilt of slaughtering the innocent. To survive, they forcefully suppress these feelings, which often manifests as a violent temper that destabilizes their cultivation and risks "Qi Deviation."
After sleeping with Yan Tangtang, however, the mercenary felt his legendary rage subside. His mind became unnervingly calm and steady, allowing his cultivation to proceed with unprecedented ease.
Naturally, he wanted her for himself. But once the Yans realized her value, they refused. Instead, the man known as "Father" attempted to violate her himself.
Yan Tangtang felt a shiver of pure horror. How terrified must the original girl have been? To be hunted like prey by the man she called father...
In the novel, these events were glossed over in a few sentences, but as Yan Tangtang sat in the dark, she felt a profound sense of revulsion at the mere thought.
The elder Yan had failed in his attempt only because his wife intervened. As the two argued in front of the girl, the truth finally slipped out: she wasn't their biological daughter. Having already begun to doubt her parentage after the father's heinous act, the original Yan Tangtang tried to flee the moment she heard those words. But would the Yans ever let her go?
They captured her immediately, binding her with a restrictive spell. They didn't even grant her the mercy of a quick death.
What followed was a nine-year descent into hell. The Yan couple used Yan Tangtang as an inexhaustible gold mine, leasing her out to anyone willing to pay in cultivation resources. They climbed the ranks of power by bartering her body away, year after agonizing year.
Nine years...
In the original plot, it was only after twenty-five years that the female lead finally revealed the truth of the swap, leading to Yan Tangtang's eventual "rescue" from that nightmare. Because of this, the novel portrayed the female lead as Yan Tangtang's great benefactor.
Bullshit. Absolute bullshit.
Yan Tangtang felt a surge of rage so intense she wanted to laugh. When she had read the book, she hadn't thought much of these descriptions, but now that she was reliving them, she felt as though she were being consumed by a slow-burning fire.
A benefactor? I'd rather thank a pile of dung.
They say people never truly understand pain until they feel it themselves. That rang true now. Only after stepping into the original Yan Tangtang's shoes could she see the magnitude of the injustice.
Because the novel was written solely from the female lead's perspective, the details were skewed. The emotions of other characters were erased. Anyone who treated the protagonist well was labeled "good," and anyone who didn't was a "villain." No matter how tragic their pasts or how much they suffered in the present, the narrative made it seem as though they deserved every bit of it.
The original Yan Tangtang was one of those "villains." When she was finally returned to her biological family at twenty-five, the sudden shift from hell to a seat of power caused her to lose her mind.
Especially when she was confronted by the female lead—a woman as pure and untouchable as a celestial nine-petaled lotus—and realized their lives had been swapped. That seat of honor belonged to her. If she had grown up in that family, she too would have been a noble, untainted flower.
Every time the original Yan Tangtang looked at the protagonist's refined elegance, she was forcibly reminded of the countless men who had entered her room during those nine years of hell. How could she forget? How could she ever be expected to forgive?
What hurt the most was that even after the original Yan Tangtang returned, the female lead remained in the family. She stayed as a daughter, cherished as the clan's "precious pearl."
In truth, the female lead had worked very hard to ensure this outcome.
The novel stated that while the protagonist knew of the swap from birth, she viewed it as merely "borrowing" Yan Tangtang's life for a while. She reasoned that when Yan Tangtang eventually returned, the family would surely pamper her, and the female lead would become the outsider. Therefore, she "borrowed" those twenty-five years of luxury for herself. In her mind, twenty-five years was a mere blink in the cultivation world. Once Yan Tangtang was back, the family's vast resources would allow the girl to make up for lost time in no time at all. She even "graciously" decided she would be kind to Yan Tangtang once the truth was out.
The narrative framed this as a logical, even pitiable choice. It argued that if the protagonist had revealed the truth earlier, she would have been cast out to her neglectful biological parents, and her cultivation path would have been ruined.
In the end, the female lead was portrayed as a helpless victim who had no choice but to do what she did.
Yan Tangtang's jaw dropped in disbelief. She wasn't just shocked by the protagonist's actions; she was shocked at her own past self for believing the novel's logic while she was reading it. Had she really been that blind? Now that she actually thought about it, this was fundamentally, undeniably wrong.
Furthermore, while the novel was vague on the specifics of the protagonist's childhood, the current Yan Tangtang could see it clearly from her new perspective.
Whether the female lead realized it or not, during those twenty-five years, she had used every trick in the book to hoard the love of the Qi family—Yan Tangtang's real family. Having the soul of an adult in a child's body, she knew exactly how to manipulate them. She would look at the Qi family members with wide, glistening eyes and let out endearing giggles, reaching out her tiny arms to be held.
Being a clever woman, she never overplayed her hand. She carefully cultivated the image of a bright, affectionate, and precocious child. Using her adult intellect, she ensured the Qi family loved her to a point of no return.
Yan Tangtang frowned. The novel described those scenes as the "adorable antics" of the protagonist's childhood, but she knew better. If not for that calculated manipulation, why would the Qi family continue to cherish and spoil the female lead even after their real daughter returned? The protagonist had done it with intent. Given her "genius" status, it was the only possibility.
Yan Tangtang felt a profound sorrow for the soul she had replaced. Compared to the calculating female lead, the original owner of this body had been truly, heartbreakingly naive.