The cold from the marble floor had seeped into her bones.
Lin Jiaxuan stirred awake, her neck stiff, her arms heavy, her back screaming in pain. She slowly lifted her head, the door still closed in front of her, the same door she had waited beside all night hoping, praying, and weeping until sleep stole her grief.
The hall was quiet, only the filtered sunlight creeping in through the window told her it was morning.
She stood with effort, each step like dragging a weight she couldn't shed.
Her heart was heavier.
A maid appeared from the corner and gasped slightly. "Madam… you're awake," she said gently, her eyes lowering to the crease lines on Jiaxuan's cheek from the hard floor.
"You should… come down for breakfast. Old Madam is home. Everyone's already seated."
Everyone?
Lin Jiaxuan's fingers curled into her sleeves as she nodded.
She made her way to her room quickly, washed her face, brushed her hair into something presentable, and changed into a soft beige dress. Her reflection in the mirror was pale, eyes slightly swollen from crying, but she ignored the way her throat tightened.
You can do this, she told herself.
Descending the stairs, the scent of warm soup and freshly baked mantou filled the air. Familiar. Domestic. For a second, it felt like nothing had changed.
Until she entered the dining room.
And saw her.
Xu Roulan.
Seated gracefully beside Huo Yichen, gently wiping the boy's lips with a napkin as he giggled, seemingly used to her presence. Her hand lingered on his shoulder, and when she turned and saw Jiaxuan, her smile was radiant.
Too radiant.
"Jiaxuan," Xu Roulan greeted warmly. "You're finally up. I was just helping Xiaochen finish his porridge. He really loves the pork floss buns here, did you know that?"
Lin Jiaxuan stood frozen for a second. The chair she used to sit in at Huo Shenzhi's left was already taken. Roulan occupied it like she belonged.
And Huo Shenzhi?
He didn't look up. His gaze remained fixed on his tea cup, unreadable.
"Come sit, child," Old Madam Huo gestured kindly. "You look pale. You mustn't neglect your health."
Jiaxuan nodded and quietly took a seat, opposite Shenzhi, next to the empty chair no one seemed to notice was missing.
Xu Roulan continued speaking in that same soft, gracious tone. "I hope you don't mind. Xiaochen spilled a little soup earlier and I didn't want him catching a cold, so I changed him. I found the matching socks in the second drawer. The green ones,you must've picked them out."
Lin Jiaxuan managed a strained smile. "Thank you."
But her fingers were clenched under the table.
Not because of the help.
But because everything Xu Roulan said was kind… and yet every word echoed like a claim.
Her chair.
Her child.
Her place.
The young boy smiled sweetly at both women, but Jiaxuan noticed it—how he leaned more toward Roulan, how his tiny fingers reached for hers first when she offered a slice of fruit.
She had missed too many mornings. Too many chances.
"Ah, and Shenzhi," Roulan turned to him with a soft laugh, "do you remember when we used to eat jianbing just like this back in university? You always hated coriander. I made sure the cook left it out today."
He gave a faint nod.
Jiaxuan didn't speak. The food in front of her tasted like ash.
She had only just begun trying to win back her child.
Now it felt like there was already someone else wearing her shoes.
And doing it better.
Xu Roulan's every word was gentle. But every smile was a weapon.
And she wielded it without mercy.
Lin Jiaxuan sat in silence, the edge of her chopsticks clutched in fingers that trembled beneath the surface.
Xu Roulan's laughter floated easily around the dining room, like warm honey, familiar and comforting. It made the staff smile, made the elders nod in amusement, and made Jiaxuan's heart feel like it was being pried open one polite word at a time.
"I still remember Uncle Huo's old stories about Yichen's grandfather," Roulan said, addressing Old Madam Huo with a knowing gleam in her eye. "He used to take his tea at exactly 6 a.m., and no one could sit in that south-facing chair except him."
"You remember that?" the old woman chuckled. "You've always had an impressive memory."
"I suppose it's because I've always been around," Xu Roulan replied modestly, dabbing the corner of her lips with a napkin. "It feels like home every time I step in here."
Every time I step in here.
The words weren't sharp, but they sliced anyway.
Lin Jiaxuan lifted her cup of warm water to hide the way her throat threatened to close. It wasn't just the chair, the conversation, or even the knowing glances between Roulan and the staff. It was the way her own son looked at her.
Or rather—didn't.
Huo Yichen was nestled in Roulan's arms, laughing as she wiped a smudge of jam from his cheek. His fingers reached for her hair, gently tugging in play.
"Yichen," Jiaxuan said softly, trying to smile, "come here, Mommy will help you eat."
The boy blinked, then turned to Xu Roulan. "Auntie Roulan… I want more of the egg thing."
Jiaxuan's heart cracked.
Xu Roulan looked over with a gentle laugh. "He's gotten used to me these past few weeks, I hope you don't mind. Children just go with whoever gives them sweets, don't they?"
She tilted her head, apologetic in expression but victorious in her eyes.
Huo Shenzhi hadn't spoken a word. He simply sipped his tea, his gaze never rising.
Old Madam Huo gently patted Jiaxuan's hand. "He's just a child. Don't take it to heart."
But how could she not?
This was her son. Her child.
And yet she was the outsider at her own table.
The breakfast table slowly emptied, each member of the family excusing themselves with polite murmurs and full stomachs. Xu Roulan lingered, helping the staff gather plates as if the home were hers to tend.
Lin Jiaxuan remained seated long after the dishes were cleared, her untouched meal cold in front of her. She stared at the seat across from her—the one Yichen once sat in when she read him stories before bed, when he still called her "Mama" with sleepy affection.
Now, he wouldn't even meet her eyes.
A soft giggle echoed from the hallway. Jiaxuan turned.
There he was. Her son. Being carried on Xu Roulan's hip, arms looped around her neck, whispering secrets only the two of them seemed to share.
Something inside her snapped.
She rose and stepped out of the dining room. "Yichen."
He looked up. His small brows furrowed in confusion, then glanced at Roulan as if seeking silent permission.
"Auntie Roulan…" he said instead, "can we play the blocks?"
Jiaxuan knelt down beside him, her voice trembling. "Baby, Mommy can play with you too, do you remember? We used to"
He shrank into Roulan's arms.
"I don't wanna," he mumbled.
Jiaxuan blinked rapidly. Her throat felt like it had been scraped raw. "Yichen… it's me. Mama…"
"He gets overwhelmed in the mornings sometimes," Xu Roulan cut in smoothly, her smile calm but firm. "He needs consistency. I've been with him every day. It's just… natural."
Natural.
The word rang like a verdict.
"Why are you doing this?" Jiaxuan whispered, her voice only for Roulan.
Roulan smiled wider. "Doing what? Loving a child who needed someone? Isn't that what a good woman does?"
A tight gasp escaped Jiaxuan, her composure fracturing.
She stood, stiffly. "Yichen, Mommy will be in the garden if you want to play."
He didn't respond.
Not even a glance.
She turned away before they could see the tears brimming in her eyes. Her steps were silent, slow, and heavy—as if each one took her farther from her son than the last.Lin Jiaxuan remained seated, her face turned away from the manor, hands trembling slightly as she picked at the frayed hem of her sleeve.
She heard the soft click of heels approaching before the voice came.
"Jiaxuan?" Xu Roulan's tone was airy, laced with that sweet, unbearable charm. "You've been out here a while. I was worried you'd catch a cold."
Lin Jiaxuan didn't answer. Her gaze was distant, locked on the wind dancing through the falling petals.
Xu Roulan sat beside her without invitation, smoothing the folds of her ivory skirt. She looked around and sighed, "Such a peaceful place. I used to come here all the time when I stayed with Aunty and Uncle Huo. Oh—maybe you didn't know."
Jiaxuan's lips twitched.
"I remember Yichen's first fever. He cried all night, poor thing. I stayed by his side till morning. He wouldn't let anyone else near him. Funny how children know who really loves them."
This time, Jiaxuan turned her face toward her, the pain in her eyes carefully masked. "You must be very proud."
"Oh, no, no," Roulan laughed, waving her hand. "It's not about pride. It's about connection. Some things can't be forced, Jiaxuan. You can't just walk into a child's life and expect to be his world. You weren't there."
Jiaxuan's fingers clenched. "I wasn't given a choice."
"And yet… here you are," Roulan smiled, her gaze cool. "But perhaps it's too late. Some places in a child's heart… once filled, they can't be emptied. Don't you think?"
Jiaxuan stood abruptly, her eyes glistening but her posture unshaken. "Is that why you're here, Roulan? To remind me of everything I've missed? Everything you so kindly stepped in to take?"
"I'm here," Roulan said, standing as well, brushing imaginary dust from her skirt, "because I care. About Yichen. About Shenzhi. About this family."
She stepped closer, voice dropping just a little. "I only hope you know what you're doing. Hearts are fragile things. And yours already looks like it's beginning to crack."
Jiaxuan didn't answer. She didn't need to.
The silence between them roared louder than any insult.
As Roulan turned and walked back toward the manor, Jiaxuan stared after her, every step the woman took pressing deeper on her already bruised heart.
But she wouldn't break.
Not yet.
But Xu Roulan didn't leave.
She halted a few steps away, turned back, and faced Lin Jiaxuan with a smile so sharp it could have cut through bone.
"You know," she began, folding her arms, "I tried to be civil. I really did. But it's exhausting pretending around someone like you."
Jiaxuan slowly turned to her, her breath caught.
"You walk around like you're his wife,like you belong here," Roulan continued with a scoff. "But everyone knows the truth. You weren't his first choice. You weren't even his second. If you hadn't gotten lucky, if he hadn't been cornered by family duty, you wouldn't even be a footnote in his life."
Jiaxuan swallowed hard, her chest rising and falling.
"Shenzhi... He's not the kind of man who settles. But he did it or a stranger who showed up out of nowhere, wearing the title of 'wife' like borrowed clothes." Roulan's eyes narrowed. "Do you even know what love looks like in this house? Or do you just cling to what little pity you can scrape?"
"I'm not here for your approval," Jiaxuan said quietly, her voice cracking but steady. "I'm here for my son. For my family. You had your time, Roulan. This is my place now."
"Your place?" Roulan gave a hollow laugh. "Look around, Jiaxuan. Even the walls don't know your name. You think Yichen runs to me because I forced it? No. He feels safe with me. And Shenzhi,he only looks at you because he has to. Not because he wants to."
Every word was a blade, twisting in Jiaxuan's chest.
But Roulan wasn't done.
"You're just a stand-in. Temporary. You think crying at his door earns love? You think cooking breakfast and smiling at Yichen makes you a mother?" Her tone grew colder, biting. "Don't mistake survival for belonging. You don't belong here. You never will."
Jiaxuan's knees felt weak, but she stood tall, refusing to let the tears fall not yet.
"I may not have started this story with them," she whispered, "but I will fight to write my place in it."
Xu Roulan smirked, as if amused. "Try, then. But know this no matter how hard you cling, when he truly breaks, he won't run to you. He'll run to me."
And with that, she turned and left, her steps light, as if she hadn't just shattered someone behind her.
Jiaxuan remained, surrounded by blooming petals and silent agony, her knuckles white around the folds of her dress, a single tear finally slipping free.
But she didn't wipe it.
She let it fall.
Because it wouldn't be the last.
Lin Jiaxuan was still standing in the garden, her breath shaky, her eyes glassy with unfallen tears, when the sound of footsteps broke the silence.
She didn't need to turn around to know who it was.
Huo Shenzhi.
And Xu Roulan saw him too.
In a breath, the sharpness in Roulan's eyes softened, her spine drooped slightly in a practiced tremble, and her expression transformed into the perfect mask of concern.
She turned toward Jiaxuan, clutching her own hands tightly together.
"Please… Jiaxuan," she said loudly, her voice trembling, "don't misunderstand me. I know you must find it hard adjusting, but I only meant to offer my help."
Jiaxuan froze.
What?
"Don't push me away," Roulan continued with a soft sniffle, stealing a glance at Shenzhi approaching behind her. "This family matters so much to me. Yichen… he's like my own. I would never try to take your place. I just want to help."
Jiaxuan's breath caught as she turned to see Shenzhi standing a few steps behind, his expression unreadable, lips pressed into a firm line.
Roulan turned slightly, perfectly positioning herself between the couple like a bridge.
"I even told her just now that I respect her place as your wife," she added, her voice delicate. "But I worry for the child. He needs both of them… both of you. I offered to leave, but she....she didn't seem to want me around."
She sniffed again, brushing at her eyes like tears were threatening to fall.
"She told me I didn't belong here."
Jiaxuan's eyes widened, a sting blooming in her throat. "I didn't say...."
"Enough." Shenzhi's voice was low.
Jiaxuan turned to him, heart thudding in her chest. "Shenzhi—"
But he didn't look at her. His gaze was locked on Roulan, who now looked up at him with wounded eyes full of unshed tears.
"I didn't want to make trouble," she whispered. "But I thought I was doing the right thing for you. For Yichen."
He placed a hand gently on her arm. "It's alright."
That was all it took.
One gesture.
Jiaxuan felt something shatter again inside her.
Not loudly. Not violently.
Just quietly , like glass slipping into a thousand pieces under silk.
And Roulan,oh, she didn't miss it. She turned slightly toward Jiaxuan again, face full of innocent pain, but her eyes gleamed with silent victory.
She had played her role to perfection.
And Jiaxuan was left standing alone again . the villain in someone else's story.