Rebirth: Mighty Daughter

My head hurt, and my whole body ached. It felt as if I had been crushed by a boulder, and every bone was screaming with boundless pain.

Feng Hongluan felt very strange. Wasn't she already dead? She should have been killed by the viciousness of Ling Che and He Jixiang in that fire. Why did it hurt? The pain like tearing bones, it was so clear.

Do ghosts also feel pain?

She opened her eyes suddenly, and the bright sunlight rushed in from the open window, leaving mottled light spots on the ground. The bright light stung her eyes, and she instinctively closed them, but soon, she

Once again, he suddenly opened his eyes with a hint of horror.

Bed, this is her bed, framed by finely carved jade teeth, with a certain amount of moonlight gauze hanging from it. Now the gauze is hanging low, dancing with the wind, and bursts of faint fragrance come from the small incense stick on the curtain hook.

Slowly delivered from the bag, it is refreshing.

Feng Hongluan looked at the bed in amazement, and her eyes swept across the room in shock. The rosewood bookshelf contained her favorite collection of poems, and a piano table was placed next to the bookshelf.

, the Jiaowei Guqin placed above is the most precious thing left to her by her mother. It is simple, rare and priceless.

There is also a plate of enchanting red flowers on the flower table, which her father brought back to her from the Western Regions. They are called datura flowers. The gardener in the mansion originally said that they would never grow. The climate in the Central Plains cannot support such precious and enchanting flowers.

, but she still had a new life. When it bloomed in the first year, it made her beautiful for many years. However, she married into the Ling family that winter, and this plate of flowers fell at home. I heard Liu Xiang said that the flower died in the end.

, she still regretted it for a long time.

But now, the mandala is blooming in that position beautifully, just like before. Even the color and posture of the flowers seem to be the same as before.

What the hell is going on? Why is she in her room, and why is the real mandala alive again?

She stretched out her hands and looked at them in disbelief. Her hands were not burned. She grabbed a handful of hair. Even her hair was black and shiny, but it was wrong!

Hand, wrong hand.

Smaller.

She exclaimed, stumbled up, and ran towards the dressing table. The person inside really surprised her. It was clearly her pretty sixteen-year-old face.

How could this happen? How could this happen?