"Madam, you're awake."

You looked up suddenly and looked in the direction of the voice - an old butler with a tall figure and wrinkled face who looked at you coldly

It was Alfred Pennyworth.

You looked down suddenly and looked at yourself- the silk nightgown on your body, the exquisite handmade ring, and the photo of a handsome man in a gold-framed photo frame on the bedside. He is Thomas Wayne.

Martha Wayne died of illness when Bruce was four years old. Two years later, Thomas married a woman from a European aristocratic family, who was the original owner of this body. And this "you” is a cold and ruthless woman. She didn't love Thomas at all. She married into the Wayne family just for money and status, and she hated her stepson Bruce. She never concealed her dissatisfaction and mentally suppressed and tortured little Bruce for a long time.

And now, you have become her.

Just when you recalled these memories and was about to collapse, there was a slight sound of footsteps at the door.

You raised head suddenly and met a pair of extremely cold blue eyes.

A boy about eight years old stood there, his straight black shirt made him look even paler, and his expression was too calm for his age. He didn't call you "mother" or even bother to address you, as if he was just looking at a stranger.

It was Bruce Wayne, who was only eight years old.