If one had to sum up Jiang Ran’s recent bizarre experiences in a single sentence, it would be this:

She crossed into another world, her father died, and she became a lord.

…

Sunlight filtered down, dim rays illuminating the mottled rain stains on the walls.

It had taken her several days to get used to her new identity. Just as she was finally beginning to accept the fact of her transmigration, her family shattered overnight, leaving her with a dire situation.

Two underage siblings, twenty thousand impoverished subjects, a dying wheat sprite… and a mess of troubles.

Jiang Ran’s face was shadowed with gloom, regret rising in her heart.

She regretted that, in her confusion upon first arriving in this world, she had promised her dying father—the former lord—to shoulder the burdens of Su Ling Town… and become its ruler.

But even if she ran away, things would hardly improve.

This was a land of fantasy, a dangerous world where powerful magical beasts roamed unchecked. Humanity had yet to truly take dominance here.

And this world held existences Jiang Ran could hardly comprehend—spirit sprites.

Sprites were akin to plants that had gained sentience. Their lives began as flora, yet they could in turn nurture the growth of plants. The number and strength of sprites a territory possessed was one of the measures of its power.

And now, Jiang Ran found herself the lord of a land with twenty thousand people… and two minor sprites.

She had come from the modern world, arriving half a month ago in the body of Jiang Fucheng’s eldest daughter, the lord of Su Ling Town.

Jiang Ran had inherited fragments of the original’s memories, but not all of them. What she received was incomplete—memories surfacing only in flashes, triggered by people, objects, or situations.

At present, she had perhaps five or six tenths of the original’s memories, and she suspected that might be the limit.

“Tch. Strange.” Rubbing her tired brow, Jiang Ran forced her troubled face back into calm.

“Y-Young Lord—no, Lord! Bad news!! Miss Wen has fainted!”

A panicked male voice rang out. A middle-aged man came running toward her.

In his haste, he lost his balance, stumbling clumsily at Jiang Ran’s feet.

This was Li Fusheng, steward of the Jiang household—the lord’s manor.

He was a simple, honest man, and from Jiang Ran’s observations these past days, he seemed loyal to the Jiang family.

Jiang Ran’s thoughts raced.

For the past seven days, she had tread as though on thin ice.

Though the original owner of this body was already dead when she arrived, guilt still lingered. After all, it wasn’t as though the girl had agreed to let her use her body.

And since she hadn’t inherited complete memories, Jiang Ran could only feign composure while quietly gathering information.

Now, with the Jiang family shaken and Su Ling Town restless, while wolves prowled outside, her position was precarious.

She had only just ascended to her new role, with few people she could trust. For now, Li Fusheng was essential to help manage the household and steady hearts.

Her decision was made in an instant.

Bending to help him up, Jiang Ran asked gently, “Steward Li, easy. Don’t panic—tell me slowly. What happened to Wen?”

Her calm tone left Li Fusheng momentarily stunned. The previous young lady had been aloof and cold, never showing him much kindness.

But there was no time to dwell on details. Scrambling to his feet, he grabbed Jiang Ran’s arm urgently:

“Miss Wen collapsed and won’t wake up! I went to find Physician Wang, but he’s nowhere to be seen. I had no choice but to come to you.”

Physician Wang is missing?

Jiang Ran frowned lightly.

Su Ling Town might not be large, nor rich in strong warriors, but at least it was within Jiang territory.

Beyond its borders, the world was anything but safe.

Wang was not a strong man—he would never leave town lightly.

Why would he disappear now, of all times?

“Don’t panic, Steward. Take me to see my sister at once.”

Jiang Fucheng had left behind two daughters and one son: Jiang Ran, Jiang Nancheng, and Jiang Wen.

Their mother had died giving birth to Wen, and their father had passed away only seven days ago. From now on, the three siblings would have only each other.

Truth be told, Jiang Ran felt conflicted about them.

The original girl had been proud and aloof. Their father, doting on his eldest, had left much of the burden of training and affairs to her, neglecting the younger two.

As a result, the former Jiang Ran had treated her brother with suspicion and her little sister with outright disdain.

As for Jiang Ran herself… she had been an only child in her previous life. She wasn’t exactly skilled at family relationships.

But now that she had chosen to accept this new identity, responsibility bound her to these siblings, whether she liked it or not.

Balancing all this in her mind, she quickly reached Jiang Wen’s room.

On the bed lay a pale girl of about eight, weak and unconscious.

Beside her sat a boy of nine or ten, handsome but haggard, his eyes red and swollen.

Nancheng and Wen.

At the sound of footsteps, Jiang Nancheng hurriedly wiped his tears, looking up at the doorway with reddened eyes.

When he saw Jiang Ran, he froze like a frightened animal. His lips trembled, tears welling—but recalling his sister’s usual coldness, he flinched and swallowed them back.

Jiang Ran’s face remained calm, but inwardly she sighed. Troublesome.

In two quick strides, she was at Wen’s bedside. She touched the girl’s forehead—no fever. Then she checked her breathing, lifted an eyelid.

Cold sweat, shallow breaths…

“Fainted from hunger?”

Hunger? A lord’s children, fainting from hunger?

Jiang Ran almost laughed in disbelief.

Where had the servants gone? To let the young miss starve into unconsciousness—utterly absurd.

She turned her gaze to Nancheng, and he flinched as if struck.

Her brow twitched. Had the original truly mistreated her siblings?

“How long has it been since you two last ate?”

Though her tone was gentle, Nancheng shrank like a startled kitten. Then, almost timidly hopeful, he whispered, counting on his fingers: “T-two days?”

“…Two days?” Jiang Ran’s voice was soft, but the weight in it made the steward’s hair stand on end.

“Steward Li,” she said, her voice cooling, “where are the kitchen staff?”

“This…” Li Fusheng’s face blanched with fear.

Jiang Ran repeated, each word sharp as a blade: “Steward. Where. Are. They?”