The True Heiress Just Wants to Be a Slacker

The morning sun had just cleared the mountain peak when Shen Niannian finished her last set of breathing exercises. She sat cross-legged on the ancient stone platform, the wind carrying the scent of incense and pine needles. "Breakfast is ready!" came a voice from below. She opened her eyes, stretched like a cat, and hopped down. Three steps and a jump later, she landed in front of the steaming pot of congee. Qingfeng Daozhang watched his youngest disciple inhale her third bowl and sighed. "You eat like you've never seen food." "I haven't. Not since last night." She didn't look up from the bowl. "That's how everyone eats, Niannian. Every single night." She shrugged. "Master, you worry too much." He did worry. At twenty years old, Shen Niannian was the most talented disciple to ever set foot in the Qingcheng Taoist Temple. Talent wasn't the right word, actually. She was a monster. A ninth-rank Heavenly Master in a world where sixth-rank was considered legendary. The problem was, she had absolutely zero ambition. A paper crane flew through the window and landed on the table. Qingfeng unfolded it, read the message, and his face turned pale. "Master? You look like you saw a ghost." "Worse." He handed her the paper. "Much worse." The message was from a law firm representing the Shen family, one of the wealthiest dynasties in the country. After twenty years, they had discovered the truth. Their biological daughter had been swapped at birth. The girl they raised was not their blood. And they wanted her back. Shen Niannian read the message twice, then put it down and reached for her fourth bowl of congee. "Interesting," she said. "That's all you have to say? Interesting? Your birth family just found you!" "Master, I've never met these people. They're strangers. Why would I care?" Qingfeng rubbed his temples. "Because they're coming to get you tomorrow. And they won't take no for an answer." She paused mid-bite. For a moment, something flickered across her face. Then it was gone, replaced by her usual lazy expression. "Fine. But I'm bringing my own chopsticks."