The moment she left my room, I locked the door and slid down against it, my heart was beating so fast. This wasn't a dream. The pain in my chest was real. The air I breathed was real. The world was real. And somehow, so was I. Five years in the past. It wasn't the afterlife. It wasn't some hallucination from my dying brain. It was my reality twisted and gifted back to me like a cursed blessing. I had died. And now, I have returned. A sob threatened to rip from my throat, but I bit it down. I didn't have time to fall apart. Not now. Not again. I dragged myself off the floor and stumbled to the nearest mirror. My reflection hit me like a punch to the gut. Gone was the worn-out woman with sunken eyes, bruised skin, and a bleeding heart. In her place stood someone I barely recognized anymore young, clear-eyed, whole. It hurt to see her. It hurt to know that she had no idea what was coming. But I did. And that changed everything. I gripped the sink tightly, the cold marble grounding me as the storm in my chest threatened to tear me apart. Four months. That's how long I had until my husband started sleeping with my sister. Six months. Until I found out and begged them to stop. Eight months. Until they stabbed me and ripped my son from my arms. No. Not this time. This time, I wouldn't fall to my knees. This time, I wouldn't plead with monsters. This time, I wouldn't die.
I rushed out of my room, barefoot, not caring that I was still in my nightgown. The mansion's hallway stretched endlessly before me, but I knew exactly where I needed to go. My son. My heartbeat quickened with every step. My chest ached with hope and terror. If this was truly five years ago, then I reached the small blue door at the end of the hall. Slowly, I pushed it open. There he was. My heart stopped. He was curled up in his dinosaur-print blanket, clutching the rabbit plush I had bought him after his first fever. His hair was tousled, his lashes casting soft shadows on his chubby cheeks. His tiny chest rose and fell in a peaceful rhythm. He was here. Alive. Untouched. I sank to my knees beside the bed, a choked cry escaping before I could stop it. He stirred slightly, his little hand reaching out. "Mom?"
"I'm here," I whispered, brushing a kiss to his forehead. "I'm right here."
His eyes fluttered shut again. And I sat there for what felt like an eternity, memorizing every inch of his face. The curve of his lips. The small scar above his left eyebrow from when he bumped into the coffee table. The way his fingers curled around mine without hesitation. Tears streamed down my cheeks. But this time, they were tears of something else. A promise. A vow. No one would ever hurt him again.
It was late morning by the time I returned to my room. I showered, changed, and sat down at my desk with a blank notebook. My fingers tremble slightly as I held the pen. I stared at the empty page for a long time, heart heavy. Then I wrote.
Enemies:
Li Zhihao – My husband. Cold, ambitious, manipulative. Cheated. Lied. Murdered. Li Meilin – My sister. Jealous. Vain. Treacherous. Betrayed me for my husband and my home.
Allies:
None. Not yet. But I'd find them. I had to.
Timeline:
Affair begins: Month 4
Confrontation: Month 6
Death: Month 8
Child abandoned shortly after
Objectives:
Protect my son. Gain financial and emotional independence Collect evidence of the affair and future crimes Destroy their reputations and power Ensure they suffer legally, socially, emotionally I tapped the pen against the paper. They had played chess with my life before, pushing me piece by piece until I was cornered and sacrificed.
But this time, I held the board. And I will flip it when they least expect it.
At breakfast, the air was already shifting.
Li Zhihao sat at the head of the table, skimming through financial reports with his usual smug indifference. He looked perfect, every hair in place, suit pressed, watch gleaming. The man I had once fallen in love with. Now all I could see was the man who would stab me in the heart with his silence while others wielded the knife.
"Don't be late for the promotion party tonight," he said without looking up. "I don't want people thinking I married a lazy housewife."
I sipped my tea, my mask of serenity flawless. "Of course, darling." His eyes flicked up at me. I let them linger. Let him search my face for the bitterness I no longer wore so openly. He wouldn't find it. That me was dead.
"What?" I asked sweetly.
He stared for a second longer, then returned to his papers. Good. Let him feel that something had changed. Let that seed of uncertainty grow.
Later, my sister arrived unannounced, as she always did. Wearing a short floral dress, makeup flawless, fake innocence glowing like a spotlight. She barged into my room without knocking how fitting.
"Sis!" she chirped. "I brought you two dresses to choose from for the party tonight. Help me pick? I want to look perfect. You know… for your husband's big night."
Her voice was light, teasing. But there it was the first crack. The first little warning of what she was becoming. I stared at her for a moment longer than necessary. Then smiled. Of course "The red one," I said.
She blinked. "Really? I thought you'd hate that one."
"You've always looked good in red," I replied, walking over to zip her dress. "And Zhihao always liked that color on you, didn't he?"
Her body stiffened for half a second. Just half a second. But it was enough. I stepped back and looked at her through the mirror. "Perfect," I said softly. She looked at me with something close to suspicion. "You're being... weird."
I laughed. "Am I? Maybe I'm just finally learning to appreciate what I have."
"Hmm," she hummed, brushing her hair over her shoulder. "Well, it's about time." She walked off with a proud smirk, and I sat down at my vanity, still smiling. Let her think she was winning. Let her bask in the false comfort of my submission. Because the higher they climbed, the harder the fall.
That afternoon, while the household prepared for the celebration, I made my way to a quiet café in the city. There was someone I needed to find. Someone I remembered from my previous life a man whose path had crossed mine briefly but fatefully. He was a former business rival of Zhihao's, a quiet investor with sharp eyes and a colder heart. I remembered Zhihao once called him a "ghost in a suit." But I remembered something else: he had tried to help me once. Warn me. I hadn't listened then. Now I would. His name was Jin Rui.
And if I could convince him that I wasn't the foolish woman I had once been he might become my first ally. I waited outside his building for over an hour, anxiety bubbling like acid in my throat. The street was full of activities around me, but all I could hear was the roar of memory and possibility. When he finally stepped out tall, composed, eyes hidden behind sunglasses. felt a jolt go through me. He looked exactly the same. But more than that, he looked like someone who didn't waste time.I didn't hesitate.
I stepped forward. "Mr. Jin?"
He stopped. Looked down at me. "Do I know you?"
I nodded slowly. "Not yet. But you will."
His brow arched slightly. I extended my hand. "Li Xinyue." He didn't shake it. Just stared at me.
"You don't know it yet," I said, keeping my voice steady, "but you're going to want to listen to what I have to say." That got his attention. For the first time, he looked interested.
"Meet me tomorrow," I said. "I'll explain everything. And if I'm wrong, you'll never see me again."
He considered. "Where?"
"Café Xuan. Noon."
A pause. Then a small nod. And he walked away. I exhaled sharply. The first move had been made.
That evening, the party sparkled with luxury—crystal chandeliers, gold-trimmed champagne flutes, fake laughter everywhere. Zhihao stood beside me, holding my waist like I was an ornament. I let him. Meilin fluttered nearby, stealing glances at him when she thought I wasn't looking. I let her. But every smile, every fake toast, every speech from our "perfect marriage" was just another brick in the stage I was building for their downfall. And when it came? I'd make sure everyone was watching.