Chapter 1: The Beggar’s Dream

I was a foundling, living with Grandma by scavenging for a living.
After turning into a girl, that murderer appeared before me again.
He forcibly took me home, made me his sister, and wouldn’t let me leave.

Before I was six, Grandma and I wandered the world like nomads.
Her surname was Ye.
The year she found me was a summer, with a gardenia blooming nearby, so she named me Ye Zhixia.
This elegant name matched my delicate face perfectly, without a hint of discord.

Another reason I was often mistaken for a girl was my long, glossy black hair.
Every three years, I could sell it for money, briefly easing the burden of our lives.

After I turned six, we settled in a narrow alley in the old city district.
We built a simple shelter, next to a river with clear water, perfect for bathing anytime.

I never went to school.
One day, Grandma and I found some discarded elementary textbooks.
She was clever, knew many characters, and even spoke English.
With her teaching and my dedication, I learned faster than kids my age.
If I’d been in school, I’d surely have been a top student.

I never had friends.
For some reason, the kids around me despised me, a beggar, and often teased me.

I remember one New Year, the shops outside the alley were festive and lively.
A group of kids played with firecrackers while I squatted nearby, watching with envy.
After tossing their firecrackers, they pointed at the smoking ones and said I could join in.

Naively, I believed them.
The moment I picked up a firecracker, a loud bang rang out.
A flash of fire scorched my fingers.
No blood, but the pain was searing!

Crying, I ran home to tell Grandma.
She grabbed a stick and chased those kids, who scattered quickly.
That day, I realized Grandma was my guardian deity.

She had a jade pendant, only half of one, with a hole drilled through it, worn around her neck.
It looked old, like it had seen many years.

Sometimes, Grandma would hold the pendant and stare off in a daze.
I didn’t know what she was thinking—maybe that’s just the weight of adult worries.

Not going to school didn’t matter; I could teach myself.
Grandma always saved the best for me, even begging for meat at the market.
I vowed to honor her, my biggest dream to rise above, buy a grand villa, and let her live there forever.

But my dream shattered.
Grandma was gone.

I was thirteen then.
Grandma rushed into the alley, urgently placing her cherished jade pendant around my neck.
She told me to hide in the river nearby.

I didn’t listen.
I stood on the rocks, peeking out.
What happened next, I’ll never forget.
A group of men stormed in, surrounding the narrow alley.
A man in a black suit stepped forward, his eyes fierce like a wolf’s.
He pulled out something dark—I’d seen it in a toy store before.
I knew it was a gun.

The barrel was long, probably a silencer.
I thought it was a toy, that they were joking with Grandma.
But then, the man pulled the trigger.
With a faint whoosh, a bloody hole appeared in Grandma’s back.
She knelt slowly, then collapsed, motionless on the ground.

I was stunned, my legs trembling.
The others stuffed Grandma into a sack and cleaned the blood from the ground.

I wanted to rush out and fight them, but I lacked the courage.

In less than ten minutes, it was over.
Half an hour after they left, I climbed ashore.
It was as if nothing had happened.

I cried for so long after that.
The sky seemed to collapse, crushing me until I couldn’t breathe.
I hated myself for being a cowardly, useless beggar.
Silently, I swore to avenge Grandma.
I’d make that wolf-eyed man taste the pain of losing someone dear.

This year, I turned eighteen.
Cans are worth less and less, and I often go hungry, unable to afford even rice.
While bathing, I noticed a branch growing from a crack in the riverside cement, bearing a single wild fruit, like a tiny apple.

Starving, I ate it without thinking.
That night, my body burned with heat.
The next morning, I woke up to find I’d turned into a girl!

I ran to the river and leaned over the railing.
The water reflected a long-haired beauty, her eyes swirling with a sandstorm of confusion, yet sparkling like stars.

I pulled open my collar and looked down.
Pale skin framed prominent collarbones, perfect right-angled shoulders, and slender arms, giving a slightly bony look.
My chest, neither too big nor small, was firm and well-shaped, quite pleasing to the eye.
My waist curved like a funnel—honestly, just imagining holding it made my heart race.

This was my first time seeing a woman’s body, even if it was my own.
What a stunning figure!

My heart skipped a beat, and a nosebleed followed.
I was in the throes of puberty, stealing glances at pretty girls on the street.
Now, I’d become a breathtaking beauty myself, and I couldn’t stop staring!

I thought of the wild fruit I ate last night.
But the branch by the river was lifeless now, snapping with a gentle tug.

I sat on the cement, lost in thought, my hands exploring my body to confirm the change.
I even pinched my thigh to be sure.

In the end, I concluded it didn’t matter whether I was a boy or a girl.
To put it nicely, I was a scavenger; to put it bluntly, a beggar.
I’d been insulted my whole life and grown numb to it.
Rising above was just a delusional dream.

Even finding work was impossible.
No one would hire me without an ID.
And who’d want a beggar who knew nothing?
Just surviving was exhausting.

Sometimes, “peers” extorted me.
They always came in groups, never alone.
I found their behavior despicable and refused to join their “beggar gang” or pay their fees.

Life had to go on.
After washing up in a public restroom, I grabbed my sack and rummaged through park trash bins.
Oddly, I still hoped to find something valuable, like a gold necklace, even knowing it was impossible.
Unable to find work, I could only pray for a windfall.

Wearing grimy nylon gloves, I dug through bins, sweat dripping from my forehead.
For some reason, more people stared at me today.
While rummaging through garbage, some even approached to give me money.

I desperately needed the cash and thanked each one.
They gave me ten or five yuan, enough to buy a small bag of rice, which could last a while if I was frugal.

At the breakfast shop’s trash bin, the young university-educated owner no longer mocked me as a “scholar.”
Instead, he looked at me in disbelief: “You… a beggar… you’re a girl?”

It dawned on me that he was right.
I nodded, checked the bin for anything useful, and moved on to the next.

Surprisingly, the owner chased after me, ignoring his waiting customers.
Holding a bag of vegetable-meat buns, he grinned foolishly: “I was wrong before, brother. Take these. Come every day, and I’ll give you the freshest buns.”

I was wary, knowing he was drawn to my appearance.
But the buns were too tempting, and I couldn’t help but accept them.

He was usually stingy, never giving me even day-old buns.
I could count the times I’d eaten his buns on one hand.
This time, he gave me six!
So many!
I’d need to collect countless cans and cardboard to afford these.

After selling my morning haul, I used the scattered coins to buy a small bag of rice and paid off my debt to the rice shop owner.
He was kind, and today, I caught his eye: “Well, you really are a girl. I always thought you looked like one, but I’m sure now.”

I thanked him sincerely, then headed to the market to buy vegetables.
The vendors, some of whom watched me grow up, were familiar with my tattered look.
An old lady gave me a free cabbage, sparking others to follow.
Even without buying meat, they gave me pork bones, saying I was too skinny and needed to drink bone broth for calcium.

For the first time, I felt what mutual help and human kindness meant.
All because of this face—because I’d become a girl.
Being a girl didn’t seem so bad after all.

That evening, I cooked the richest meal of my life.
I drank pork bone soup, something I hadn’t had in years, flavored with a corn cob, a carrot, and a pinch of salt.
It was savory and sweet, and I sucked every bit of meat off the bones.

Maybe it was my imagination, but I felt I’d gained some weight.

Counting my cash, I had 31 yuan left, all from kind strangers.
That was enough for three servings of pork knuckle rice with 1 yuan left for a steamed bun.
But I couldn’t spend it!

Five years of living alone made me deeply insecure.
I’d faced too many days with a meal today and none tomorrow.

From experience, I rarely found anything worth more than 10 yuan, like broken appliances in the trash.
Those wouldn’t wait for me to claim them.
My competitors weren’t just other scavengers—street cleaners were the real threat.

On lucky days, I could sell something quickly to tide me over.
But when luck ran dry, I was back to collecting bottles and cans.
If income was low, I’d have to beg for day-old buns at the bakery, and the owner might not even give them to me.

Being a girl meant I wouldn’t go hungry for now, which was good.
The bad part?
Some people stared at me with lecherous eyes, making me sense danger.
Out of necessity, I tucked a broken fruit knife into my pocket.

It was sharp, as effective as a new one.
It gave me a sliver of reassurance.
With my sack in hand, I headed out again.

I walked for hours.
Evening wasn’t as lucky as daytime—only two people gave me money, one 1 yuan, the other 5.
Being frugal was the right choice.

I hated these insecure days.

Under the hazy night, I headed home.
Before I knew it, it was past 11 p.m.
The old city had no nightlife; the streets were quiet.
Suddenly, sounds of slashing and shouting came from afar: “Stop! Don’t run! Cut him down!”

My heart jolted.
A masked man, clutching his arm, ran toward me, clearly injured.
A group wielding gleaming knives chased him.

The scene chilled me.
For some reason, I felt a kinship with him, both of us bullied by a mob.
Acting on impulse, I grabbed him and ran into a side alley: “Follow me!”

He didn’t hesitate, following me as we darted through twists and turns.
We reached my shelter, shaking off the pursuers.
The masked man, exhausted, collapsed and passed out.

I crouched to check on him.
He was tall and burly, his arm as thick as my head—an impressive build.

Blood soaked his white shirt.
If left untreated, he’d bleed out.
I thought of Grandma, lying here in her final moments.
I couldn’t let someone else die.

Calling an ambulance would alert his pursuers, and I had no money or phone.
If they tracked us via the ambulance, we’d be in trouble.

I refused to watch another person die helplessly.
I had to save him!

Fearing discovery, I ran to a closing pharmacy and bought disinfectant powder, bandages, sutures, and gauze.
It cost 28 yuan—nearly bankrupting me!

He’d better pay me back, right?

No time to think—saving him came first.
I was skilled with needle and thread, used to mending my torn clothes.
His wounds were gruesome, but I couldn’t back down.
No one else could save him.

I checked his wounds with a flashlight.
They crisscrossed his upper back.

He was heavy.
It took all my strength to remove his tattered, bloodied shirt.

I stopped the bleeding, starting with the largest wounds, then the smaller ones.
I worked late into the night, finishing just before my flashlight battery died.

Sweat drenched me, my clothes reeking, though my body carried a faint fragrance.
The masked man showed no signs of waking.
I quickly undressed and bathed in the river.

Moonlight cast a silvery glow.
The night water was chilly.
My emotions were complex as I bathed, my adolescent curiosity satisfied.
This body was beautiful, though too thin from years of malnutrition.

Back on shore, I noticed the masked man had shifted to his side, now sleeping.
He probably wouldn’t die, right?

I couldn’t move his massive frame, so I fetched my only pillow and blanket from the house.
I lifted his head, slid the pillow underneath, and draped the blanket over him, accidentally covering his face.

It felt a bit like shrouding a corpse—bad luck.
I pulled it down to avoid suffocating him, hoping he’d wake soon.

Exhausted, I returned to the house, using my spare clothes as a pillow and blanket, and fell asleep instantly.

The next morning, I rushed to check on him.
He was alive, sleeping like a log.
No need for an ambulance—hospitals weren’t cheap, so I’d save him some money.

I decided to buy breakfast for him, hoping kind words might earn me some cash.

With my plan set, I jogged out of the alley, weaving through the morning market crowd.
The university-educated shop owner spotted me: “Little beggar!”

I stopped.
He grinned, holding buns meant for a customer: “I told you, come every day, and I’ll give you the best buns.”

I eyed the steaming buns, swallowing hard, and said politely, “That’s too kind.”

I had to admit, his buns were delicious, especially yesterday’s sweet and savory vegetable-meat filling.

Plenty of neighbors watched us talk.
Among them, his change in attitude was the hardest for me to accept.

He’d insulted me before and was less generous than other bakery owners, never giving me day-old buns.

His eyes flickered, glancing at my chest before grabbing my hand: “Just a few buns. Come every day, it’s settled.”

He hung the plastic bag on my hand.
I couldn’t handle his enthusiasm, muttered a thank you, and left.

When I got home, the man was gone.
Only my pillow and blanket remained on the ground!

My head buzzed, the buns slipping from my hand as I wailed, “My medicine money!”

He left without a word, not even a thank you.
I always thanked people who gave me money!

Tears of anger welled up.
After a moment of despair, I tried to think positively: it was a human life.
At least he didn’t die in front of me.
Knowing he left alive was enough.

My pocket held just a few yuan now, my sense of security plummeting again.
Life didn’t allow hardworking people to cry during the day, so I went back to scavenging.

With neighbors suddenly overly kind, I stayed vigilant.
That fruit knife became my constant companion.

My fears came true.
Not long after heading out, a strange man blocked my path.
He wore a black cap and a bright smile that felt sleazy.

I stepped back instinctively.
It was broad daylight—he wouldn’t try anything, right?

People’s hearts are unpredictable.
Uncertain, I gripped the knife in my pocket.

“Hello,” the man said, toning down his treasure-hunting grin and reaching into his pocket.

“Don’t come closer!”
I tightened my grip, pulling out the knife to intimidate him.
My legs trembled, and my loose flip-flops felt like a burden.
I was ready to ditch them and run.

The man froze, stepping back and waving his hands: “I’m a talent scout, no harm intended.”

“What’s a talent scout?”
I stayed wary, my face showing no ease.

I watched his every move as he slowly pulled out credentials: “Simply put, I find stars and help them make big money!”

I was skeptical: “For real?”

I knew I was beautiful now, but my life had always been one of bad luck and bullying.
Good fortune like this didn’t happen to me.
I didn’t believe in sudden turns of fate—unless I found a gold chain in the trash!

“It’s real! Don’t be nervous, check my credentials.”
He slid the ID toward my feet.

I glanced down, picking it up quickly: “Zhu Qing, Director? Asia… Disney Media Co., Ltd.?”

Blinking, I flipped it over, spotting a familiar mouse.

“Mickey Mouse!”

“Yes, Mickey,” Zhu Qing corrected, then asked, “Miss, your outfit is…?”

The familiar cartoon character made me trust him a tiny bit, and I pocketed the knife: “I’m a beggar, a scavenger.”

“Oh…”
He looked puzzled, unsure how to respond.

I was intrigued by the talk of big money: “Can I really earn a lot?”

Zhu Qing nodded eagerly: “With your looks, you’d start with a guaranteed hundreds of thousands a year, millions later!”

He seemed serious.
My mouth fell open.
Years of scraping by made his words feel like a giant pie falling from the sky.
My heart raced.

Afraid to miss the chance, I asked, “What do I need to do?”

Zhu Qing grinned: “We have a jewelry project that’s been a headache. The client’s rejected multiple candidates. The moment I saw you, I knew you should audition. Even if you don’t pass, the company will give you 1,000 yuan for travel. And we won’t let a high-quality beauty like you wander the streets, heh.”

“1,000 yuan!”
The amount overwhelmed me, clouding my senses.
Clutching my sack, I followed him in a daze.

He led me to an old car and opened the passenger door.
It was cleaner than my ragged clothes, and I hesitated to sit.

Zhu Qing saw my concern and smiled: “It’s fine, get in.”

I sat, hugging my clinking sack of scraps.
Zhu Qing looked surprised, then pulled out his wallet, handing me 50 yuan: “Miss, I’ll buy your stuff.”

I froze.
That sack would fetch only 3 yuan at the recycling station.
This was a huge deal!
Was this my reward for saving someone, my kindness earning me luck?

Without thinking why he’d want it, I thrust the sack at him: “No takebacks!”

He tossed it out the window, landing neatly by the road.
His honest face turned complex as he handed me the cash: “No takebacks.”

I gleefully took the 50 yuan.
He wasn’t tricking me—he really paid!
I’d come back for the sack later, earning another 3 yuan!

As the car moved, I counted my rare car rides on one hand.
I gazed at familiar buildings, feeling the cool AC breeze.
Normally, I’d linger at mall entrances to catch some air conditioning, then keep scavenging.
That was my life.

Zhu Qing talked about the job, and I listened intently.
We reached the city center, and he drove into an underground parking garage.
After parking, he made a call:

“I’m in the company garage. Arrange the jewelry ad audition and call the client. Tell him face-to-face if he’s unhappy again, he can find his own actress.”

Zhu Qing hung up, muttering to his phone: “I don’t believe it…”

I didn’t know what troubled him, but if things went well, I’d make big money.
If not, I’d get 1,000 yuan!

I didn’t hold much hope—my life never showed a glimmer of it.
Insecure, I worried the 1,000 yuan was a pipe dream.
But Zhu Qing’s 50 yuan was real; he couldn’t take it back, right?
For now, I was quietly thrilled.

In the elevator, my first time in such a fancy place made me timid.
The slight weightlessness felt novel as we reached the ninth floor.

The doors opened, and everyone turned to stare, stunned.
The room fell silent.

In this upscale office, everyone was neatly dressed, far more polished than me.
I barely dared breathe, hearing my own heartbeat in the quiet.
Unable to bear their intense gazes, I lowered my head, shy and inferior.

Zhu Qing clapped, breaking the silence: “Xiao Li, take her to bathe and change. Everyone else, prepare. The client’s almost here.”

A girl not much older than me approached politely: “Star sister, this way.”

I nodded stiffly, following her respectful smile.
Another female staff member trailed, holding a white dress.

Xiao Li glanced back as we walked, eyeing my grimy clothes: “Sister, just finished filming?”

I pursed my lips: “No.”

She偷瞄ed my chest, her eyes widening: “Wow! Then you must be getting into character. So dedicated!”

I didn’t know how to respond to her flattery.
Soon, we reached the bathroom.

Before closing the door, the other staff member said to knock when I was done, and she’d help me dress.

I shed my beggar clothes, puzzling over the shower.
Clueless, I twisted knobs randomly, and water sprayed from above, drenching me.

I shivered, but warmth followed, soothing every inch of my body.

I closed my eyes, savoring my first truly comfortable shower.
Someone waited outside, so I hurried, scrubbing with shampoo and body wash.
After rinsing, I wrapped myself in a large towel, hoping I wouldn’t get scolded for using it.

As I prepared to knock, the door tapped: “Star sister, may I come in?”

It was Xiao Li.
I opened the door, smiling: “Please.”

She stuck out her tongue, stared at my face for a second, and bowed slightly: “Sorry, I forgot to bring your undergarments and sandals. My oversight, please forgive me.”

“Excuse me,” she said, leaving the items and closing the door before I could reply.
My heart stirred—being respected felt so good, a first for me.

I was clueless about women’s undergarments.
It was just a ring of white fabric.
After studying it, I figured out how to wear it.
It felt comfortable, but if I failed the audition, would I need to return it?

I knocked, hiding behind the door.
The female staff member entered with a white strapless dress.
Smelling the strong body wash, she turned on the exhaust fan.

I let go of the towel.
She gasped: “Your figure is so slender!”

Embarrassed, I could only say, “Thank you.”
She laid the silver-white dress on the floor.

Was I supposed to step into it?

I did, and she pulled it up, instructing me to hold the chest while she tied the back.

“It suits you perfectly,” she said, wiping the foggy mirror.
The dress had elastic lace trim, looking expensive!
It made me feel like a bride or an angel, though the breeze below and slight chest exposure felt odd.

If I could, I’d rather show no chest at all.
But for 1,000 yuan, I’d endure.

My hair dripped.
The staff wrapped it in a dry towel, and I followed Xiao Li back to Zhu Qing.

He was busy directing, standing in place.
I called softly: “Director, I’m done bathing.”

Zhu Qing turned, my fresh appearance making his pupils dilate, his breath catching.

I blinked.
He coughed lightly: “Makeup team, give her a fresh wig. Don’t cover her right-angled shoulders. Add neck accessories… and try white arm sleeves with a veil.”

I sat before a mirror, three makeup artists working efficiently.
I could only close my eyes and let them do their job.

“I’ll get the wig. Keep applying mascara and eyeliner.”

“Your skin is flawless. No need for makeup daily—what a dream complexion!”

“Thank you,” I said, accepting the praise.
On my second day as a girl, I still wasn’t used to it.
The only upside was this chance to earn money.

When the makeup team finished, I opened my eyes, glimpsing my stunning reflection, and hurried out.

Preparations were nearly done.
Zhu Qing saw me, looking like a bride-to-be, and his breath hitched again.
He smiled wryly: “Compared to you, the others fell short. The ad’s theme is marriage. A bride in wedding attire should captivate. They lacked that spark. I was wrong before—you’re the fresh-faced girl we needed.”

A bride?
I laughed inwardly, bittersweet.
Whatever, as long as there was money.

Everything was ready, except for the client.
The audition didn’t start because the client called Zhu Qing, saying if he wasn’t satisfied in person, he’d cancel the contract and forfeit the 100,000 yuan deposit.

A hundred thousand yuan!
That could feed me for decades.
To toss it away was ruthless.

Things weren’t as simple as I’d hoped.
No audition, no 1,000 yuan.
I’d be left with nothing but empty expectations.

I sat as gracefully as I could, my anxious gaze darting around.
A clear ding sounded from the elevator, its doors sliding open.

A handsome man in rimless glasses stormed out, his brows furrowed with anger: “Where is she?”

He looked ready to fight.
The staff, quick-witted, stepped back to avoid him.

I guessed he was the client.
From Zhu Qing’s description, he was stressed from searching for actresses and was unhappy about being summoned.
His furious gaze swept the room, as if ready to explode if displeased.

He seemed set on canceling the contract.

I shrank back, fearing he’d scold me if unsatisfied.
But why should I fear?
I’d been insulted for years.
Maybe this “scholar” would teach me new curses.
As long as he didn’t hit me, I’d be fine.

Then his gaze landed on me.

His brows shot up, his angry glare vanishing.
His sharp jawline dropped, revealing a glimpse of white teeth, as if shocked.

Not only that, but as a refined elite, he didn’t wipe the sweat sliding down his forehead, tarnishing his fearless tycoon image.

He stood like a statue, as if his prepared “cancellation speech” had evaporated, leaving only disbelief as he stared at me.

Was he satisfied with me?

Zhu Qing chuckled nearby.
To avoid wasting this trip, I couldn’t slight the client.
I needed to sell myself.
I stood, bowed slightly to the man, hands clasped in what I thought was a polite gesture, and smiled like an obedient child.

“Hello, Mr. Client.”