The Farm Girl and the Executioner (Rebirth) 1

Chapter 1: Rebirth on a Rainy Night

It was November, late in autumn.

After two consecutive days of rain, the weather had grown colder.

Lin Shuang curled up in the stiff cotton batting, faintly hearing the voices of her uncle and aunt from the woodshed on the other side, discussing her marriage.

It was called a marriage, but in reality, it was for her to be a second wife, and also to ward off misfortune for the groom’s family.

If all went as planned, she would be carried in a bridal sedan in two days, married into the Qin family to serve as a propitious bride for their young master.

According to the course of her previous life, the terminally ill Young Master Qin would pass away a little over a month after she joined the family. It was then that Old Madam Qin would discover that the Lin family had falsified Lin Shuang’s eight characters of birth and would come to their door to settle the score with her uncle.

Her uncle and aunt never returned the betrothal silver, and relations between the two families soured. Her life in the Qin household became unbearable. In the end, she placed her hopes on Young Master Qin’s children from his deceased wife, raising them with great difficulty.

But fate played a cruel trick. Ten years later, when the two children were grown, not only did they show no gratitude, but at the old madam’s instigation, they sold her to another family for a ghost marriage. To prevent her from escaping, Qin Qingsheng had cruelly broken her legs and forced her into the wedding sedan.

The moment she was buried in a coffin with another corpse, all she could feel was the excruciating pain in her legs and boundless terror.

She hated her uncle’s family for putting her in such a predicament. She hated the stepson she had raised with her own hands, who had personally pushed her into another sunless abyss. She resented the heavens for their injustice, and she resented her parents for leaving her behind with that vicious couple.

Just as the air in the coffin ran out and she closed her eyes in despair, resigned to death, she heard the thump, thump of digging from above.

The coffin lid was opened, and through her hazy vision, Lin Shuang glimpsed a face both familiar and distant.

It was only then that she suddenly remembered. Ten years ago, on the night before she was sent to the Qin family, a fine rain was falling outside. Her bamboo window was pushed open by a scabbard stained with the scent of blood, and Jiang Huaizhen stood before her, drenched to the bone.

“Do you want to come with me?” she had asked.

News of her chongxi marriage to the Qin family had already spread throughout the village, so it wasn’t strange that Jiang Huaizhen knew. What surprised Lin Shuang was why she had come.

The person before her was Jiang Huaizhen, daughter of Changping County’s famous executioner, Jiang Gui. They were from the same village. Because of Jiang Gui’s profession, no one in the village was willing to associate with their family. After he died, even fewer people dared to go to the mountain valley where the Jiangs lived.

But that afternoon, she had heard from people returning from town that Jiang Huaizhen had inherited her father’s profession and had gone to the execution grounds to carry out a sentence.

So when she heard the other woman offer to take her away, she hesitated.

Jiang Huaizhen could barely protect herself, so how could she save her from this sea of misery?

Besides, even if she escaped this marriage, with an uncle like hers, could she escape the next one?

The world was in turmoil. As an orphan with no parents and no skills, where could she go even if she left the Lin family?

And so, in her past life, Lin Shuang had refused.

But she never expected that on the brink of death, the female executioner, whose ill repute had spread far and wide by then, would appear before her, digging up her grave, carrying her home on her back, and caring for her meticulously.

But Lin Shuang no longer wanted to live.

It wasn’t that she feared living without dignity as a cripple. She was just a simple farm girl who had been tormented by the Qin family for a decade and then sold into a ghost marriage. What dignity did she have left to speak of?

It was just that with her broken legs and ailing body, she couldn’t imagine how much money would be spent on medicine each day. She couldn’t move, couldn’t cook, and even needed Jiang Huaizhen’s help to use the latrine.

Her life was hopeless, and she was truly unwilling to be a burden to her savior.

And so, one afternoon while Jiang Huaizhen was out, she ended her own life at the age of twenty-seven.

She had failed Jiang Huaizhen once again. Before she died, her heart was filled with pain and boundless guilt.

She never imagined she would return to the eve of her marriage, back when she was sixteen.

If things went as expected, tonight, Jiang Huaizhen would push open that window and ask her if she wanted to come with her.

Lin Shuang leaned against the head of the bed, her eyes fixed on the bamboo window.

Around the third quarter of the Hour of the Dog, the black night enveloped the village like a giant curtain. The surroundings gradually fell silent. Amidst the patter of the rain, the occasional bark of a dog added a touch of chill to the late autumn night.

She pulled the quilt tighter around herself.

The quilt she had used for over a decade had been taken apart and washed so many times that now only a thin, stiff layer of fabric remained. Lin Shuang felt a cold chill seep into her bones.

Knock, knock, knock—

A tapping sound came from the window frame.

She sat up abruptly, throwing off the quilt. Without even taking the time to put on her shoes, she stumbled toward the window.

At the same time, the tip of a dark brown scabbard slipped into the crack of the window. The bamboo shutter was pushed open, and a gust of damp air rushed in.

Jiang Huaizhen stood at the window, dressed in a short tunic of coarse blue cloth, a sliver of a moon-white inner shirt visible at her collar. She wore no rain cloak or conical hat, and she stood there, drenched.

The rain had washed her face pale, and her lips were tinged with a faint purple.

She looked cold and stubborn, possessing a kind of breathtaking beauty.

In her past life, Lin Shuang had been in no mood to study the other woman’s appearance. Now, remembering the days she had been carried home and meticulously cared for, and comparing that to the young face before her, her body began to tremble uncontrollably.

“Do you want to come with me?”

The same words as her last life, not a single one different.

By now, Lin Shuang had reached the window and reached out to grab her scabbard.

Seeing this, the young woman started slightly, then moved the scabbard away, her eyelashes lowering.

Lin Shuang remembered. Today was the day Jiang Huaizhen had gone to the execution grounds for the first time. It was the day she had taken her first head.

She was only seventeen.

Executing a person was a job that required immense courage and physical strength. Thus, since ancient times, there were almost no precedents of women serving as executioners.

The Jiang Huaizhen before her didn’t look burly at all; she was actually quite thin. Lin Shuang couldn’t imagine how such a body could erupt with the tremendous force needed to kill a person with a single stroke.

But she had done it. And in her past life, she had worked in this profession for ten long years.

No matter who it was, their first time in this line of work would never be easy.

Even though Jiang Huaizhen appeared calm at this moment, Lin Shuang could see the almost imperceptible tremble in her body. Her long fingers gripped the window frame so tightly the tips had turned white; she must have been using immense effort to suppress her shaking.

Seeing that she wouldn’t let her touch the scabbard, Lin Shuang shifted her hand and placed it over the other woman’s cold right hand.

Before her was the seventeen-year-old Jiang Huaizhen, but inside, she was the twenty-seven-year-old Lin Shuang.

She lacked the shyness and innocence of a girl her age, her heart filled instead with endless vicissitudes.

Her twenty-seven-year-old soul gazed through the curtain of rain at the young face before her. In her past life, she had never noticed the small black mole on the side of Jiang Huaizhen’s neck. Now, washed clean by the rain, it was all the more distinct.

As the warmth of her skin transferred to the hand beneath hers, it seemed to have been scalded, stiffening abruptly, but it did not pull away.

“I will go with you, but not right now,” Lin Shuang said.

Jiang Huaizhen looked at her, her expression slightly stunned, as if she didn’t understand what she meant.

Lin Shuang explained, “Tomorrow, find a chance to spread a rumor to the Qin family and the surrounding area. Say that I have a baleful fate, that my birth caused the death of my parents when I was two, and that my family changed my eight characters of birth. The document they received is a fake. The Qin family wants to marry a girl with a fortunate destiny to ward off misfortune for their son. Once they know this, there’s no way they’ll let me into their family.”

“Alright,” Jiang Huaizhen said.

Lin Shuang released her hand, took a bracelet from her inner pocket, and handed it to her. “Help me pawn this bracelet. It should fetch a few taels of silver. When the Qin family cancels the engagement and the news spreads, no one else will come to propose marriage. My uncle and aunt will surely try to sell me off cheaply. You can use this money to buy me.”

This bracelet was the only memento her mother had left her, and it was her only possession. She had hidden it carefully all these years so her aunt wouldn’t find it.

It was a pity that in her past life, less than a year after she arrived at the Qin residence, it was confiscated by Old Madam Qin’s servant, Matron Lou, and she never got it back.

Using it now was a worthy cause.

In her past life, Jiang Huaizhen had carried her from her grave. For that kindness, she was willing to be her servant for the rest of this life.

Jiang Huaizhen reached out and took the bracelet, which was still warm from her body. Her long eyelashes trembled slightly, and the raindrops that had gathered on her eyelids rolled down her cheeks.

“I will handle it,” she said, her voice a little hoarse.

Lin Shuang looked at her and asked, “Why are you helping me?”

In her past life, after being brought back from the cemetery, she had asked the same question, but the other woman had never given her an answer.

As expected, Jiang Huaizhen didn’t reply and turned to leave.

Lin Shuang quickly called out to her, then turned back to her bed and retrieved a sachet, which she handed over.

“This contains albizia flowers and mugwort. If you place it under your pillow when you sleep, it can dispel the stench of blood and calm the soul.”

Today was her first execution. As a seventeen-year-old girl, she must have been terrified, no matter how strong she appeared.

She had gathered these dried herbs a while ago, originally for herself. Giving them to her now might be of some use.

Jiang Huaizhen turned her head and gave her a deep look. Then she took the sachet, clutched it in her palm, and turned to disappear into the rain.