A garota boba da família Song renasceu

The sky offered no mercy. What had been a gentle drizzle moments ago suddenly turned into a torrential downpour, the raindrops striking the corridor and splashing loudly like crackling fire.

Inside the house, the atmosphere grew cold and oppressive. Though it was spring, the chill seemed to seep into one’s very bones.

“Uncle, I beg you, please save my father!” Song Ci knelt on the hard stone floor of the hall, her thin dress providing little warmth. A coldness seeped into her knees, making her shiver. Her eyelashes fluttered as she looked up at the cold faces of the elders seated above.

“Your father committed a grave error. He’s involved now. The emperor has decreed that those who err must be thrown into prison, with no visits or pleas allowed,” her uncle replied with a stern expression.

Song Ci’s heart sank as she gazed at her uncle’s indifferent face. Her father had been locked away in the dungeon for ten days with no word. What kind of place was that dungeon? It was said to imprison the empire’s worst criminals, a place perpetually dark and damp, thick with the stench of mildew. The food was spoiled, and at night, snakes, rats, insects, and worms would gnaw at the prisoners’ wounds.

Her father had devoted years of painstaking effort to managing the Song family’s estates, exhausting himself, his health steadily declining. How could he endure such a fate?

Suppressing the sharp pain stabbing her knees, she knelt forward, hope flickering in her eyes. Her slender fingers grasped the corner of his robe embroidered with golden threads. “Un