Jiang Zhuozhuo was sprawled out like a bird pancake, her eyes empty, her whole body radiating an unmistakable salted-fish aura.
Not long ago, she had still been a clueless, foolish university student, grinding games through all-nighters until the sky turned dark.
Then, when she woke up, she found she no longer existed as a person.
Fragile college student body, you never lied to me!
Here’s what happened: she transmigrated into a dumb bird.
A real bird, the kind that’s already grown but hasn’t even formed spiritual sense yet, and can only chirp and squawk.
On this vast and bountiful land, all sorts of races lived. Her race, it was said, was the Phoenix Tribe. In theory, they could take human form right after birth and receive their own territory from the Empress to govern independently.
If one managed their territory well enough, there was even a chance to compete for the throne of Empress in the future!
Jiang Zhuozhuo studied the history of their bird tribe seriously and discovered that phoenixes lived for a very, very long time.
Not to mention she had a bunch of elder sisters ahead of her in line for the throne—even if it did come down to her, that would be a thousand, eight hundred years from now.
She was the kind of person who could only plan as far as which cafeteria to eat at after class. Thinking about something that far off was really asking too much.
Nine Phoenixes vying for the throne?
Scratch that, scratch that, scratch that.
She would never enter that kind of instance in her whole life. Just thinking about it was exhausting.
Although the Empress outwardly treated Jiang Zhuozhuo, her developmentally-challenged dumb bird daughter, equally by granting her a territory, this land was about as far from the Royal Capital, suspended high in the sky, as one could possibly get.
The esteemed Empress probably didn’t want to admit she’d given birth to a dumb bird, either.
After all, her previous daughters were all so outstanding—how did it come to Jiang Zhuozhuo suddenly failing so spectacularly?
Jiang Zhuozhuo had already been out of her shell for ages; the Empress couldn’t stuff her back into the egg, so she could only toss her far away, out of sight and out of mind.
After Jiang Zhuozhuo transmigrated, her spiritual sense was strong enough to sustain this body’s human form, but she still often reverted to bird shape, lazily sprawled out on the windowsill, soaking up the sun.
This was winter sun, after all—miss out on a little and it felt like a huge loss!
“Your Highness, can’t you do something meaningful for once?”
Mei Yin, a young girl in a black and white maid uniform, pushed up her glasses and couldn’t help but say something she probably shouldn’t have.
Mei Yin, of the owl tribe, was a top student at the Royal Maid Academy in the Royal Capital.
Don’t ask why there’s such a thing as a Maid Academy—even Jiang Zhuozhuo, who had been a giant baby of socialism for eighteen years, had no idea.
From her observations, Mei Yin’s position was more like a senior housekeeper—the type fluent in twenty-six languages, managing all the big and small affairs for the master’s family, and occasionally sighing, “Young master hasn’t smiled like this in a long time.”
That was pretty much her role.
Probably because the Phoenix Tribe naturally commanded respect, the royal family here still held significant power. So, even serving as a royal maid was a great career path for ordinary people.
Once the Princesses gained their own territories, the maids who had looked after them would be promoted, becoming Lord’s Deputies with real authority in their domains.
The only reason Mei Yin, so young, could become Jiang Zhuozhuo’s deputy was because everyone thought following Jiang Zhuozhuo had no future. When it came time to select a maid for her, hardly any capable candidates volunteered.
Especially since the much-favored Eighth Princess was also picking maids at the same time, she’d attracted all the top students from the Maid Academy.
Even though Jiang Zhuozhuo had still been a “dumb bird” with no spiritual sense when she first arrived at her territory, Mei Yin still diligently took care of her daily life and tirelessly handled all sorts of troublesome matters on her behalf.
At least, from the jumbled memories Jiang Zhuozhuo had received, Mei Yin was the only one who had ever been good to her (bird).
Hearing Mei Yin coming over for a heart-to-heart, Jiang Zhuozhuo sat up attentively to listen.
In bird form, Jiang Zhuozhuo was all fluffy, and sitting up made her look adorably round.
Soaking in the sun felt so good, even her ability to process information lagged behind a beat.
What did Mei Yin just say again?
…Can’t you do something meaningful?
Her brain, which hadn’t really been used since the college entrance exams, slowly started up again…
Ding!
Keyword detected!
Do something meaningful!
Jiang Zhuozhuo suddenly shot up, happily spinning outside the sunny window, inviting, “Wanna go to the dock for some fries?”
Mei Yin: .
Even though she felt her Highness was just as lazy as ever, Mei Yin was studious enough to ask, “Your Highness, what are fries?”
Jiang Zhuozhuo’s wings drooped as she flopped back onto the soft, fluffy blanket on the windowsill, specially prepared for her.
She was a plump little round bird, now lying there limp and unmoving.
Right, there was no delivery here, no fries or cola, no phones or computers. She’d transmigrated before she’d even finished grinding through the games she’d bought during the summer sale. How tragic!
Mei Yin watched her Highness deflate like a punctured ball.
She wanted to laugh, but her professional maid training forbade it.
Mei Yin dutifully offered advice: “If Your Highness wants to eat this thing called fries, you can have someone try making them for you.”
What frustrated Jiang Zhuozhuo was that she didn’t recognize any of the ingredients here.
All the vegetables, fruits, and meats she was familiar with didn’t exist. Even if she asked someone to make something, she wouldn’t know what to use.
And as for the chefs’ skills… maybe it was because her territory was so remote that she couldn’t find any real talent, but the food tasted just so-so.
Every meal was either a thick stew made by boiling all sorts of ingredients together until mushy, or huge, bloody slabs of roasted meat.
The meat all came from beasts hunted by the Forest Hunters in the woods. If roasted until fully cooked, it became tough and dry, so the kitchen usually left it half-raw.
…Truly soul-crushing dark cuisine.
After comparing it to what she’d eaten these past few days, even the worst cafeteria at school seemed refined by comparison. You never know how good school is until you leave!
Mei Yin was right; she couldn’t go on like this.
First, she’d get herself some fries!
Jiang Zhuozhuo said, “I’m going out for a walk, Mei Yin. You go do your own thing.” She happily spread her wings and, with a cheerful “Chirp,” flew out the window.
Flying was amazing.
Mei Yin, left behind: “……”
She really wanted to say, These are all your affairs, Your Highness. There’s nothing I do each day that’s actually my own!
But seeing Jiang Zhuozhuo spinning around happily as she flew off, Mei Yin couldn’t help but smile.
Back then, many people hadn’t understood her choice, thinking she could have chosen a more promising position. Only Mei Yin herself knew she preferred this kind of life.
Sometimes it got busy, but she could handle it.
Life was fulfilling, her mood was light—surely she’d live longer than those scrambling desperately to climb higher.
Jiang Zhuozhuo circled her Castle, surveying the nest she’d be putting down roots in.
The Castle was huge, fully equipped with all sorts of facilities. Surrounding it was a blue ribbon-like Moat, the water so clear she could see the fish swimming freely at the bottom, flicking their tails everywhere.
Fortunately, the fish here hadn’t developed spiritual sense and were edible.
Even if they looked a bit different from regular fish, Jiang Zhuozhuo still felt a sense of kinship—fellow villagers meeting far from home. She decided to catch a couple of the fattest ones to grill on her way back.
No need to thank her—that’s just what fellow villagers do.
Now, she needed to find some seasonings as substitutes.
Jiang Zhuozhuo circled in the sky, then landed in human form at the Dock.
There were no fries at the Dock, but there was a Farmer’s Market nearby selling all sorts of agricultural products.
Since she’d never appeared before her subjects in human form before, nobody at the Farmer’s Market recognized her. So, relying on her youthful, vibrant face… a lot of people tried to overcharge her for stale vegetables.
Jiang Zhuozhuo: ??????
Even markets in another world are this ruthless?
Heh, why don’t you try using a rigged scale? 🙂
Jiang Zhuozhuo was no newbie who’d never been to a market.
She’d been a left-behind child growing up, living with her grandma. Since her grandma had trouble walking, she’d been responsible for grocery shopping since she was six (she’d even tried to take over cooking, but her grandma, worried she’d get burned, never let her near the stove).
If her cooking skills were average, her shopping skills were top-notch. She could tell the weight of something just by picking it up!
These guys thought they could cheat her just because she looked young and unfamiliar? No way!
Jiang Zhuozhuo put her penny-pinching skills to full use, looking here and there but never buying.
If someone offered a sample, she’d go taste a couple bites.
After making a whole round, many vendors started giving her strange looks.
How could this girl have the nerve to sample everything after they’d enthusiastically called out to her, but not spend a single copper coin?
So young, yet so terrifying!
It wasn’t that Jiang Zhuozhuo was truly stingy—she just figured the Dock was far from the Castle, and since she’d flown over, she couldn’t exactly carry a huge bag of groceries back in her beak.
She’d be exhausted!
She planned to make a list and have someone else come buy everything later. All she needed to do was pick out the ingredients she wanted.
What disappointed Jiang Zhuozhuo was that she didn’t find a substitute for potatoes after a full round, but she did find a grain suitable for grinding into flour.
This stuff didn’t grow from the ground, but on trees. The locals called it “Guazui Gu.” Apparently, each tree produced thousands of catties every year, but the shell was rough and the taste wasn’t great, so people didn’t like eating it.
Still, since it had a high yield and was easy to harvest, ordinary folks had no choice but to rely on it to fill their stomachs.
Jiang Zhuozhuo picked up a few Guazui Gu grains and examined them, deciding to name them… Tree Wheat.
Wasn’t this just wheat that grew on trees!
There were quality grains here too, but the types were very limited, and the yields were low—only nobles could afford them.
Jiang Zhuozhuo asked the boy selling Tree Wheat, “How much of this do you have at home?”
The boy brightened at once.
Guazui Gu never fetched a good price—after autumn, the mountains were full of it, and even in winter you could dig some up by clearing away the snow.
But his family had nothing else to sell, so he’d brought it out on the off chance someone would want it.
If someone was willing to buy, maybe his mother could be saved!
Even though he’d noticed Jiang Zhuozhuo had only looked and never bought anything, the raggedly dressed boy still answered nervously but earnestly, “If you want, my family has lots. However much you need, I can carry it to your house.”
Jiang Zhuozhuo glanced at his skinny frame and felt it was a bit inhumane to make a minor do all that.
Seeing his predicament, she generously handed over her first deposit of the day.
A Silver Coin, the standard currency of the continent.
Jiang Zhuozhuo pressed the Silver Coin into the boy’s hand, smiling, “Wait here for me. I’ll send someone over to pick up this… Guazui Gu.”
The boy, clutching the Silver Coin, was at a loss, stammering, “This is too much, it’s really too much.”
Jiang Zhuozhuo said, “It’s fine. Just save me some extra Guazui Gu from your next harvest.”
Seeing that it was getting late and still thinking about catching fish to share with Mei Yin, she waved goodbye and left.
Jiang Zhuozhuo left with a flourish, but the Farmer’s Market instantly became lively. The vendors all gathered around the boy selling Guazui Gu, clicking their tongues in amazement—
“You really hit the jackpot, selling Guazui Gu for a Silver Coin!”
“That girl, maybe she’s taken a liking to you? Now that I look, you’re not bad-looking!”
“She just handed over a Silver Coin—maybe she’s a noble lady out for fun. Kid, you’re in luck…”
The boy grew even more bashful under their teasing, obediently guarding his sack of Guazui Gu as he waited for Jiang Zhuozhuo’s people to come.
Seeing how honest he was, the crowd soon lost interest and scattered.