The sun had just dipped beyond the horizon, casting long shadows across the silent corridors of the Huo estate. Lin Jiaxuan sat in her room, her gaze fixed on nothing in particular. Her body still ached from the night she spent on the cold floor outside Huo Shenzhi's bedroom.
Just as she moved to draw the curtains closed, her phone buzzed on the table.
Caller ID: Chen Yuze
Her breath caught. She hadn't seen that name in what felt like a lifetime — not since she died with it carved into her shame and regret.
She stared at the screen. In her past life, that name had meant everything. Now? It meant nothing but lies, betrayal, and pain.
Still, she picked up.
"Hello?"
His voice came like a song she once knew — familiar, smooth, rehearsed. "Jiaxuan... I've missed you."
She didn't respond.
"I— I know things got a little heated last time," he continued. "I just wanted to hear your voice again. I didn't mean to call earlier, it just... happened. I didn't even remember dialing. Funny how the heart works, huh?"
She almost laughed. So this was his game? Sweet words, twisted truths.
"I know you're married now. But let's not pretend you're happy. You're not. He doesn't love you. Not like I do."
Her silence stretched, heavy and cold.
"And besides," his voice dipped lower, "you and I had plans, remember? A future. You told me once you wanted a man who'd love only you. That's me, Jiaxuan. It's always been me. I haven't forgotten what we talked about — how we'd build a life together. And now... with access to his business, his name, his power—"
That was it. Her hand tightened around the phone.
"You think I came here for wealth and status?" she said, her voice sharp, like ice laced with fire. "You think you can manipulate me again, like before?"
Chen Yuze paused.
"You really haven't changed," she continued softly. "Still trying to charm your way into what you never earned. You betrayed me, Yuze. In this life and the last—though you don't even remember the first."
"What are you talking about?"
"I remember everything," she said flatly. "I remember how you turned on me when I had nothing. How you offered me up like a pawn. How I died, alone, thinking I was saving the man I loved."
A beat of silence. Then he laughed, low and dangerous.
"You've lost it."
"No, Yuze. I finally see clearly. You're the one still in the dark."
She hung up without another word.
And this time, when the phone slipped from her hand, her heart didn't ache for him.
It burned with purpose.
After ending the call with Chen Yuze, Lin Jiaxuan stood still, the phone trembling slightly in her grasp. Her past was clawing its way into her present, and with every whisper from it, she felt the shame, the heartbreak, and the desperation mounting.
She had thought nothing else could shake her that day.
Until her phone rang again.
Caller ID: Lin Jiayuan
Her heart skipped.
Her younger brother.
In her past life, Jiayuan had died protecting her — loyal to the very end, even when she had hurt him the most. He had stood before a bullet meant for her, eyes fierce with love and a final, unspoken goodbye.
But in this life, he was still alive.
She pressed the phone to her ear, unable to breathe.
"…Jiejie?" his voice came quietly. Hesitant. Nervous. "Are you… okay?"
Tears welled instantly. "Jiayuan…?"
A pause. Then a small laugh. "You sound like you've seen a ghost."
She covered her mouth, sinking onto the edge of the bed. "No, I just… I missed you."
Another pause. "I wanted to call earlier, but I wasn't sure if you'd pick up. I know… I know things have been weird since you got married. And I—I know I wasn't the best brother sometimes, but—"
"Don't say that!" she snapped, her voice cracking.
He went silent.
"I was the one who wasn't good to you. You were always there. Always protecting me… even when I didn't deserve it."
His voice was soft. "You sound really tired, Jie."
"I am," she whispered. "Tired of lying. Tired of running. Tired of being someone I never wanted to become."
There was a beat, then his voice steadied. "Then let's meet. Please. Let's talk properly. I'll come to you. Or we can meet somewhere quiet."
Lin Jiaxuan nodded, wiping her cheeks. "Yes. I want to see you."
"Now?, at that coffee place near the river you
love."
She smiled through the ache. "Okay."
When the call ended, she clutched the phone to her chest, curling over it like it could shield her from everything. For the first time since waking in this second life, hope felt like more than a ghost. Her brother was alive. And maybe, just maybe, this time she could save him.
... ...
The café by the river hadn't changed.
Warm wooden tones, the scent of roasted beans, and the soft lilt of indie music playing in the background. Lin Jiaxuan stood just outside the glass door, her heart pounding wildly in her chest. Her fingers trembled as she reached for the handle.
She didn't know if she had the right to see him.
To speak to him.
To be his sister again.
But she stepped inside.
And then—there he was.
Lin Jiayuan. Her younger brother. Sitting by the window with a coffee cup in his hands, staring at the passing river like he always used to.
Her breath hitched.
In her past life, he had been shot right in front of her. He had smiled even as the blood pooled under him, calling her name like he was afraid she'd forget it.
But now… he was alive. His hair was messier, eyes a bit wearier, but that warmth, his warmth still wrapped around her like a shield.
He turned. Their eyes met.
"Jiejie…?" His voice broke slightly.
She walked toward him slowly, as if afraid he'd vanish.
He stood immediately, unsure whether to hug her or stay back. His hand twitched. Her lips trembled.
"I…" Her voice faltered.
Then she moved and flung her arms around him, burying her face in his shoulder.
He froze, stunned.
Then his arms wrapped around her, holding her close like he had a hundred times before. "Jie… what's wrong? Did something happen? Why are you crying?"
"I thought I lost you," she whispered through tears. "I was so cruel to you. So blind. And you… you still died for me."
He stilled. "What?"
Realizing what she'd said, she pulled back and shook her head quickly. "I...I mean I thought I lost you to my own mistakes. I thought I pushed you too far."
His gaze softened.
"You didn't lose me," he said quietly. "Even when I hated what you were doing… I never hated you. You're my sister, Jiaxuan. Nothing changes that."
The tears wouldn't stop. This wasn't just grief. It was rebirth. Regret, tangled with the warmth of a second chance.
They sat down, and she listened,truly listened to him talk about how lonely he had been, how worried he was about her. How he missed the old her the sister who used to scold him and steal his fries but would always show up when it mattered.
"I want to get that sister back," he said, finally.
She reached across the table and gripped his hand. "You will. I swear it, Jiayuan. I swear this time I'll protect you. No matter what it takes."
He smiled, squeezing her hand. "Then we're okay."
And for the first time in a long, long time she believed it.They sat across from each other, two cups of coffee long forgotten between them, letting silence fill the spaces where years of pain and absence had once lived.
Lin Jiayuan studied her carefully really studied her.
His sister,once radiant and proud, always well put together—looked like she had walked through fire.
Her skin was pale beneath her makeup, her eyes rimmed red not just from crying, but exhaustion that ran soul-deep. Her fingers twitched every few seconds, as though they were trying to keep themselves from unraveling. Her smile was polite but pained. And though she sat upright, the way her shoulders sagged made her seem smaller defeated.
"Jie…" he whispered. "What happened to you?"
She looked up, blinking rapidly, her lashes catching the morning light like dewdrops. She tried to smile, but it cracked at the edges. "I think I lost a war with myself," she murmured. "But I'm trying to win again."
His brows furrowed, concern growing on his face. "You look… tired. Not just in your body. In your heart."
She let out a breathy chuckle. "That obvious?"
He reached across the table, gently taking her hands. "You never looked like this before. You used to walk like the world belonged to you, even when you were wrong."
She nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat. "And I was wrong. About so many things, Jiayuan. I had everything… and I destroyed it with my own hands."
He didn't understand fully. How could he? She hadn't told him about the past life, the betrayal, the pain, the death.
But he saw enough. He saw the grief in her posture, the ache in her words, the weight she carried now—more like a widow than a wife.
"I don't know how to fix it," she admitted. "But I want to. I want to be better. For myself, for my son… and maybe even for my husband, if there's anything left in him to love me again."
Lin Jiayuan gritted his teeth. Tears pooled in his eyes despite himself. "I should have been there for you. I should have protected you—"
"You did," she whispered, her voice trembling. "In another life, you gave up everything for me. You were my only light. And I...I never got to thank you."
He froze. "Jiaxuan… what are you talking about?"
She shook her head quickly. "Nothing. I just… I remember how good you've always been to me. Even when I didn't deserve it."
His voice cracked as he said, "Jie, don't say that. You always deserved love. You just didn't know how to ask for it."
She squeezed his hand, then looked down at their fingers laced together.
"You're the only one who makes me feel like I'm still human," she whispered.
A tear slipped down his cheek. "You are human. You made mistakes. But look at you now. You're trying. That's more than most people ever do."
She looked up at him, startled by the fierce love in his eyes. The same love that once got him killed. A sob built in her throat.
"I missed you so much," she whispered.
"And I never stopped missing you," he said, his voice breaking. "I was always scared you'd disappear completely, and now I see you like this and—"
He couldn't finish.
He stood and walked to her side of the booth, kneeling down in front of her like he used to when they were children and she cried over scraped knees.
"Whatever happened to you," he said hoarsely, "whatever broke you.I'll help you heal. I'm your brother. That's what I'm here for."
And that was it.
She wrapped her arms around him, buried her face in his shoulder, and sobbed. Not just for what she had done. But for what she had been given.
Another chance.
Someone had heard her regret. And this time she wouldn't waste it.
The warmth from her brother's embrace still lingered in her chest, a tiny ember keeping her alive. Lin Jiaxuan stepped out of the car with a soft smile on her lips—the first one in days. The guilt in her heart hadn't disappeared, but for the first time, she felt a sliver of hope.
Until the door to the house opened.
Xu Roulan.
In his pajamas.
Her hair was loosely tied up, her feet bare on the marble floor, and the pajama shirt she wore was unmistakably male—monogrammed, just like the ones Shenzhi wore.
And behind her, standing just inside the doorway of the master bedroom, was Huo Shenzhi—his chest exposed beneath a half-tied bathrobe, damp hair clinging to his temple.
Jiaxuan froze.
Xu Roulan blinked as though caught off guard, then quickly masked her expression with a sweet smile. "Oh? Jiaxuan, you're back. You should have let someone know—you must be exhausted."
The world tilted.
Jiaxuan took a slow, trembling step forward. "Why are you… in our room?"
Roulan's lips curled slightly, the softness in her tone clashing with the malice in her eyes. "Oh, don't misunderstand. Shenzhi was just feeling unwell. I only helped him after his bath—he had a slight fever."
From the doorway, Shenzhi didn't say a word. He didn't deny it. He didn't explain.
He just stared at Jiaxuan like she was a stranger who had interrupted something she didn't belong in.
A thousand thoughts rushed through Jiaxuan's mind, each one laced with pain sharper than the last.
She wanted to believe in him. In their vows. In what little they had left.
But this—this silence—was louder than any betrayal.
Xu Roulan stepped closer, brushing invisible lint off her borrowed sleeve. "The servants were busy, and I've always known how he likes his tea after a bath. Old habits, you know?"
Her voice was a whisper meant to soothe—but to Jiaxuan, it burned like acid.
She looked at Shenzhi, her eyes pleading for truth. Even a lie would have been easier than this emptiness.
"Shenzhi," she whispered, "tell me it's not what it looks like."
Still, he said nothing. His jaw clenched, eyes unreadable.
Jiaxuan's heart cracked in half.
Xu Roulan gave a dramatic sigh, then turned to him sweetly. "Shenzhi, you should rest. I'll bring your medicine shortly."
She passed by Jiaxuan with a smile, whispering as she went, "You really should've come home earlier."
And then she was gone.
Leaving Jiaxuan staring at the man she had once given her entire heart to.
"Why?" Her voice was barely audible. "Why would you let her—"
Shenzhi looked away, stepping further back into the room. "It wasn't what it looked like."
"Then what was it?" she asked, voice trembling. "Because she was wearing your clothes. In our room."
He exhaled, frustrated. "I didn't invite her in. She came in when I got out of the shower. I was tired. I didn't stop her."
Her heart stopped.
"You didn't stop her," she repeated, each word like a knife in her throat. "You didn't stop her from walking into the room we shared. From touching things that were ours. From wearing you—from wearing my place."
"You gave up that place long before today, Jiaxuan," he said quietly.
She staggered, like he'd slapped her.
A sob built in her chest, but she swallowed it, forcing herself to speak. "Do you still love her?"
The silence that followed was more terrifying than any scream.
She nodded slowly, her vision blurring.
"I see."
She turned around, her knees weak, but her spine straight.
She would not cry—not here. Not in front of them.
But deep inside her, something had shattered.
And this time… she didn't know if it could ever be put back together again.
The silence of the house felt unnatural. Too polished, too rehearsed—like the quiet held its breath for the next disaster.
Lin Jiaxuan moved through the hallways slowly, her steps measured, her expression blank. She had barely touched her dinner. The humiliation from earlier still hung over her like an oppressive storm cloud.
She needed air.
Or maybe she just needed something real.
She turned into the kitchen, hoping for a moment alone—just to drink water, maybe wash her face. Maybe cry silently into the sink like she had done so many times before.
But she wasn't alone.
Xu Roulan stood near the stove, humming softly to herself as she stirred a small pot. The scent of ginger and herbs filled the room. Her back was turned, but the second she heard the soft steps behind her, she spoke with unnatural ease.
"Oh? Couldn't sleep either?" she said without turning around. "It must be hard… being in a home that doesn't quite feel like yours."
Jiaxuan didn't answer. She moved to the other end of the counter and opened the cabinet to find a glass. Her hands trembled slightly as she filled it with water.
The sound of the kettle whistling broke the tension for a moment.
Xu Roulan turned, holding the kettle with a cloth, a sly smile on her lips. "I was making some tea for Shenzhi. You wouldn't believe how his body always reacts to cold nights. He used to call for me, you know, even at midnight just to rub his temples. I was always the only one who could soothe him."
Jiaxuan closed her eyes. "Why are you doing this?"
Roulan tilted her head. "Doing what? Speaking the truth?"
"Staying here. Playing house. Acting like this is your place."
Xu Roulan laughed, light and cruel. "Because it once was mine. And maybe it still should be."
She set the kettle down but didn't pour yet. Instead, she walked closer, circling the island counter until they were face to face.
"You think a few tears and guilt are enough to fix everything you broke? You think your son doesn't see through you? Even your husband looks at you like you're a stranger."
Jiaxuan's throat burned with the force of withheld emotion. "I made mistakes, yes. But you,what are you doing? Manipulating a grieving man, making yourself look like a saint, when all you've done is hover like a vulture waiting for a corpse to rot."
Roulan's smile faded.
And in the next moment so fast it almost didn't register she lifted the kettle.
"I think you need a reminder," she said, voice low. "Of the pain you caused."
Scalding water sloshed from the kettle and splashed across Jiaxuan's arm and side.
The glass in her hand fell and shattered.
She screamed sharp and visceral clutching her arm as pain seared through her skin.
A maid rushed in, wide-eyed and trembling. "M-Madam! What happened—?!"
Xu Roulan dropped the kettle quickly, her expression contorted in mock horror. "It slipped,I didn't mean to—I was just making tea! Oh god, is she okay?!"
The maid stared in confusion, unsure what to do.
But Jiaxuan saw it clearly,the flicker of a smirk in Roulan's eyes as she stepped back and feigned concern.
Jiaxuan collapsed to her knees, still clutching her burning skin, tears falling silently down her cheek,not just from the pain, but from the cruelty.
From the hopelessness.
From the realization that this war… was far from over.
And she might be the only one fighting it.
____________________________________________________
The moment the scream reached his ears, Huo Zeyu, the youngest of the Huo brothers, dropped the suitcase he had just carried in.
He had planned to surprise the family with his return from abroad. A quiet homecoming. A chance to see his brother again. Maybe to observe the woman everyone whispered about—his sister-in-law, the one whose name always stirred tension in his family's voice.
But what he heard wasn't a welcome.
It was pain. Unmistakable. And it came from a woman.
Without a second thought, Zeyu sprinted across the grand hallway, past the startled maids, through the ornate doors that led to the kitchen. His heart pounded in his chest like a war drum, dread tightening his throat.
And then he saw her.
Jiaxuan.
Collapsed on the cold tiled floor. Her cloth soaked, clinging to her trembling body. Shards of broken porcelain glittered around her, and steam rose from her reddening arm like smoke from a battlefield. The acrid scent of boiled water filled the air.
She was shaking—no, not just shaking. Her body was writhing in silent agony, lips parted, eyes wide with disbelief and hurt.
Hovering beside her, with a porcelain teacup still in hand, stood Xu Roulan, her expression carefully constructed into one of concern, yet laced with poorly concealed satisfaction.
Zeyu's heart clenched. He had never seen such cruelty masked with such sweetness.
"What the hell happened?" he demanded, storming to Jiaxuan's side, kneeling before her. He quickly pulled off his coat and gently laid it over her shoulders, shielding her shivering form from further humiliation.
"She—" one of the maids stuttered, her voice barely audible. "Miss Xu poured—she poured hot water on Madam Jiaxuan... intentionally."
"I said it was an accident," Xu Roulan interjected, her voice smooth as velvet. "I was pouring tea when she startled me. The kettle just... slipped."
Zeyu turned to face her, his gaze sharp and cutting. "You were three feet away from her. Don't insult my intelligence."
Xu Roulan's smile faltered. "Why are you so quick to judge me? You don't even know the full story."
"I don't need to," Zeyu snapped, his tone ice. "I can see enough. She's burned. You're holding the kettle. And you're the one smiling."
Xu Roulan's face froze.
Jiaxuan whimpered softly, her hand clutching her scalded arm. Zeyu's chest ached as he looked down at her. She wasn't just in pain—she was broken. Emotionally. Physically. Like someone who had endured too much for too long.
He gently brushed back a strand of damp hair stuck to her cheek.
"Hey… I'm here. I've got you, alright?" he whispered. "You're safe now."
Tears spilled from her eyes, falling soundlessly onto his shirt. She didn't speak. She didn't need to. Her silence said everything—the disbelief, the exhaustion, the longing for someone, anyone, to be on her side.
Zeyu lifted her into his arms. She didn't resist. She melted against him, her small frame shaking as if the last threads of strength had finally given out.
"I want the family doctor here now," Zeyu barked to the staff as he stood. "If he isn't here in ten minutes, I'll call the hospital myself."
"Yes, Young Master!" the maid scurried away.
As Zeyu carried Jiaxuan through the hallway, Xu Roulan stood frozen in place. Her expression unreadable. Her plan, meant to humiliate and isolate Jiaxuan, had backfired. Badly.As he carried her away, Xu Roulan stood still in the kitchen, her jaw clenched, her fists tight at her sides.
For the first time since returning, she wasn't the only one being seen.
And Jiaxuan… Jiaxuan had never felt so light and heavy all at once. She had expected silence, cold glares, blame. She hadn't expected arms around her. She hadn't expected someone to fight for her again.
Upstairs, in the guest room Zeyu had chosen as his own, he laid her gently on the bed and crouched beside her.
She blinked at him, tears still streaming, lips trembling.Jiaxuan sat up slowly on the guestroom bed, her burned arm freshly wrapped in gauze, her cloths replaced by a soft cotton shirt brought up by one of the housekeepers at Zeyu's order. The pain throbbed beneath her skin, but it was nothing compared to the ache in her chest.
Zeyu pulled a chair close to her bedside, his brows furrowed with concern as he watched her with careful eyes. He hadn't said a word since the doctor left only stayed by her side, pouring her warm water, brushing her hair back gently like a brother might to a younger sibling in distress.
He finally broke the silence. "Jiaxuan…"
She looked up at the sound of her name, eyes glassy, lashes wet.
Zeyu's voice was soft. "What happened down there? Tell me the truth. Not what they'll say. What you experienced."
Her lips parted slightly, but no sound came.
He waited.
Then barely a whisper she said, "She did it on purpose."
"Xu Roulan?"
She nodded.
Zeyu exhaled sharply and shook his head in disbelief. "And no one...no one intervened?"
"I was alone." Her voice cracked. "No one... ever steps in for me."
Zeyu's jaw clenched. "You're not alone anymore."
She blinked at him, unsure whether to trust that promise.
After a beat of silence, Zeyu leaned forward, eyes fixed on hers. "Where is Shenzhi?"
The name hit her like a slap.
She looked down at her lap, fingers curling tightly into the fabric of her shirt.
"Where is your husband?" he asked again, gently but firmly. "Where was he when this happened?"
She swallowed hard. "He… He was upstairs. In our room."
"With her?" The question fell from Zeyu's mouth like ice.
Jiaxuan nodded, her lips trembling. "She came out… in his robe. And he didn't say anything."
Zeyu stood, pacing for a moment before stopping at the window. His fists were tight at his sides.
"And he still let her stay?" he asked, more to himself than her. "Even after this?"
Jiaxuan didn't answer.
Because what was there to say?
She looked down at her bandaged hand, the skin red and angry, her heart more raw than flesh.
Zeyu turned back around, his voice quieter this time. "Why are you still here?"
Her gaze lifted to his. "Because I still love him," she whispered.
That answer,soft, broken, and fragile hit him harder than any scream ever could.
He looked at her for a long time. Then, coming back to sit beside her, he placed a hand gently over hers.
"Then let me love you enough to protect you," he said. "If he's forgotten how."