"Xueling?!"
"Xueling?!"
Feng Xueling's eyes flew open as though yanked from the abyss. Her chest heaved, but the searing pain of the blade was gone. No blood stained her uniform, no cold hospital walls pressed in around her. Instead—
A classroom.
The hum of voices, the shuffle of desks, the stale chalk dust in the air. Students crowded in groups, trading snacks and gossip, the mundane chaos of high school life spilling into every corner.
Her gaze darted around, disbelieving. She knew this room. The crooked ceiling fan, the taped-up exam schedules on the wall, the squeaky third window from the left. Every detail matched perfectly.
This was her third year of high school.
I… came back.
"Xueling! You zoned out again." Jiang Xiaoman leaned into her field of vision, her glasses slipping halfway down her nose, expression tight with worry. "Seriously, you need to take care of yourself. You were out cold. The teacher's going to think you've got anemia again."
"Xiaoman…" she whispered. The name felt foreign on her lips, like something dredged up from a past life—and yet here she was. Her deskmate, annoyingly persistent but one of the few who had ever looked out for her. And for that very reason, Feng family had schemed against her. She had mistakenly thought that Jiang Xiaoman had gone abroad for further studies and lost touch with her. That hadn't been the case at all. Before she was dispatched to the Sanetorium, she had overheard Xueyao gossiping with her friends. Xiaoman had met with an accident and her parents were given hush money to cover it up. No wonder Xiaoman's parents didn't welcome her when she tried to visit them to ask about Xiaoman!
Xueling curled her fingers against the desk. Not this time! This time she will protect her friend! She will make sure the Feng family has no means or ability to scheme anything at all, let alone something as ridiculous as a fake accident.
"Eat something." Jiang Xiaoman shoved a packet of biscuits into her hand. "You'll keel over if you keep skipping lunch. What good is studying if you drop dead, huh?"
She blinked at the biscuits, lips twitching. "What good indeed?!" She had been working non-stop for the benefit of the Feng family; for Feng Xueyao's schooling, for her parents' company that she would many times not have time for even a meal. She never took even the slightest care of herself and all her stomach problems later were all because of it.
The heavens had hurled her back to the beginning—to five years before everything shattered.
This time, she would not repeat her mistakes.
The classroom door creaked open.
"Xueyao! You're back?!" a girl squealed from the front.
The class erupted in cheers. Heads turned, faces lit up.
Feng Xueyao walked in, every movement poised, her school uniform pristine, her ponytail swaying neatly. Her face—delicate, glowing—wore the perfect smile of someone used to being adored. In her arms, she carried a gleaming trophy, the engraved letters catching the sunlight.
"First place!" one boy shouted. "You actually won at the National Robotics & Coding Expo?!"
"Of course she did," another chimed in. "She's a genius. Our school's pride!"
A swell of admiration filled the room. Students crowded closer, pelting her with questions. Teachers passing by even poked their heads in, smiling at her with approval.
Feng Xueling's body went cold.
Ah! So today was that day! The day when Feng Xueyao's was recognized as a tech genius.
Till now, because of Xueling's coaching, Xueyao was only considered an academic genius. She was the typical 'good girl' who looked good and studied well; Her first rank however, were all due to the effort Xueling put in teaching her. Between that and the numerous chores around the hosue, Xueling really ground herself down. She did it all for love. But now..heh.
"It wasn't a big deal" blushed Xueyao. Really guys, it was only a little competition.
That;s our Xueyao, always so humble!
Such brains, but so much grace. Is this what a fairy is like?
Her classmates continued to fawn around her and Xueling looked on dispassionately.
That program—those algorithms—had not been Feng Xueyao's. They had been hers.
Countless nights she had spent debugging, writing line after line of code, building a predictive automation software elegant enough to impress even corporate investors. She had shared it innocently with her "sister," believing family meant trust.
Xueyao had stolen it. Presented it as her own.
And now, holding the trophy high, she basked in thunderous applause.
But it didn't end there.
Xueling's eyes narrowed, memories flashing sharp as blades. That very software had been adopted by the Gu Corporation months later—Gu Mochen himself praising its innovation, the media hailing Feng Xueyao as a visionary.
Yet beneath the polished code, there lurked a critical bug. A fatal flaw that, left unresolved, could have toppled entire projects, tarnished the Gu family's gleaming empire.
No one else knew. No one but her.
And when Gu Corp had nearly stumbled over that flaw, who had been dragged in behind closed doors to quietly fix it?
Her.
Feng Xueling.
The shadow, the nameless ghost laboring in secret while her sister reaped glory.
Her lips curled, a bitter edge cutting through. And despite it all, she was filled with sudden relief. That she came back at this exact moment, before everything went downhill.
For Xueling had a secret. A secret about her abilities that she hadn't revealed to her family until after this competion. She had an immense capacity to learn. Anything she spent time learning, she could become an expert at it with barely any effort.
The coding program was the prime example. She fiddled around with xueyao's old discarded laptop (ofcourse she didn't have one of her own), excited to finally get her hands on one and in under one month, she had taught herself complex computer langugaes, identified the next need in the tech world, developed a software to address it – the sentinel system.That was her program, the most efficient cyber security system noboby could ever hack, that could adapat and change its protocols to make its defense stronger when under threat.
It was the earliest version of this sentinel system, which was already miles better than any othe product out there that Xueyao had won the prize for.
In her past life, when her family discovered her genius, they worked her to the bone and crowned xueyao with her glories. And the fool that she was, she kept giving hoping for even a shred of love. Pathetic.
Jiang Xiaoman leaned over, whispering, "You don't look impressed."
Xueling's grip tightened on the packet of biscuits until it crinkled loudly.
"Impressed?" She let out a soft, humorless laugh, so quiet it was swallowed by the classroom's cheers. "You could say that."
"What are you laughing at?" a sharp voice cut in. Lin Meimei, one of Xueyao's two constant shadows, was already glaring at her from across the aisle. "People ought to look at themselves before laughing at others."
"As the bottom of the class, the one with the worst grades," added Zhang Qiqi, flicking her glossy hair over her shoulder, "you dare mock our Yaoyao? Unbelievable."
Jiang Xiaoman's chair screeched as she twisted around. "Can it. We were talking about something else. Aren't you a bit too much? Butting your noses in and accusing others for no reason?"
"You mind your business," Qiqi shrieked back. "Nobody asked for your opinion!"
"Enough."The soft, angelic voice cut through the rising argument like a bell.
Feng Xueyao stood there with her perfect smile, trophy glittering in her hands. "Sister didn't mean it. Don't hurt her."
"You're too kind, Yaoyao." Lin Meimei's eyes narrowed at Xueling. "She doesn't deserve a sister like you."
Xueyao's lashes fluttered as she turned to the crowd, the very image of a gracious saint. "We're a family. There's no deserving or undeserving, right sister?" She stepped closer, placing a hand on Xueling's shoulder and giving it a gentle shake, her silky ponytail swaying in perfect time.
For a heartbeat, the classroom seemed to hold its breath.
"Right," said Xueling at last, her lips curling faintly. "We're family. There's no deserving or not…" She tilted her head, eyes meeting Xueyao's with a glint the other girl couldn't quite read. "But hey, am I taking the bus back again today? Or do you think I could hitch a ride in your car?"
The question was light, almost teasing. But something in the way she asked it — the calm steadiness of her tone, the faint amusement in her eyes — made Xueyao pause.
"Of course you can," Xueyao answered after a beat, her smile unfaltering for the watching crowd. "We're sisters. What's mine is yours."
Xueling tapped her chin thoughtfully, as if weighing those words. "Really? Then maybe I could borrow that tote bag of yours, the white one from LV… Or, hm…" Her eyes drifted over Xueyao's flawless outfit. "That dress you wore last weekend. You don't mind, right? Since what's yours is mine."
The classroom fell oddly quiet.
Someone stifled a laugh. Another whispered, "Did she just—?"
Even Lin Meimei and Zhang Qiqi blinked, stunned. Their queen's little shadow had never spoken this way before.
Xueyao's smile never wavered, but a faint stiffness crept into the corners of her eyes. "Of course. Whatever you like."
"Thanks, sister," Xueling said sweetly. She rose to her feet, her gaze sweeping the room. To the others, her tone was airy, innocent, as though she were simply echoing her sister's generosity. But in that moment, people began to notice—really notice—the sharp line dividing the sisters: one glowing in designer clothes and admiration, the other sitting quietly with secondhand books and a half-eaten packet of biscuits.
A boy in the back, unable to hold it in, muttered just loud enough for a few around him to hear, "Funny… for sisters, they don't really treat her the same."
Another girl's eyes flicked toward Xueling, then back to Xueyao. "Yeah… if my sister had all that, I'd be spoiled too. Why does she look like she's living in hand-me-downs?"
The whispers spread like cracks in porcelain.
For the first time, Xueyao felt the perfect shine of her image tremble under scrutiny. She kept her smile fixed, but her hand clenched tightly around her pen.
Xueling, meanwhile, sat back down and folded her hands neatly, her expression the picture of serenity. Her lips curved just slightly. "We're family, after all," she said again, softly — this time sounding less like gratitude and more like a quiet blade sliding free of its sheath.
The school bell rang, releasing the class into the corridor. Students filed out in groups, buzzing with chatter, but here and there, pairs of eyes still darted curiously toward the Feng sisters.
Xueyao walked gracefully, her bag slung over her shoulder, her usual fan club trailing a respectful distance behind. Xueling followed a few steps behind her, unhurried, her hands tucked into her blazer pockets.
The moment they turned the corner into the empty stairwell, Xueyao stopped. Her delicate smile vanished, replaced by a glacial sneer.
"You're getting bold, aren't you?" she hissed, her voice low and sharp, nothing like the syrupy tone she used in front of others. "Bag, dress, car — do you think you're entitled to anything of mine?"
Xueling tilted her head, the faintest curve tugging at her lips. "Didn't you just say in front of everyone, 'what's mine is yours'? Or was that just for show?"
Xueyao's eyes flashed. "Don't twist my words. You think one clever remark makes you my equal? Don't forget who you are, Feng Xueling — an outsider our family took in out of pity. You should be grateful you even get to stand beside me."
"Outsider?" Xueling's voice was soft, but it cut through the stale stairwell air like ice. She leaned forward slightly, her eyes gleaming with a calm, mocking light. "Funny. When you needed my project to win that competition, I wasn't an outsider. When Father praised you for work I did, I wasn't an outsider. But the moment I ask for a seat in your car, suddenly I don't belong."
Xueyao's breath caught. For the first time, she saw something in Xueling's eyes that unnerved her — not submission, not hurt, but a quiet, simmering defiance.
Her nails dug crescents into her palm as she forced a brittle laugh. "You'll regret this attitude one day. You have no idea what you're inviting onto yourself."
Xueling straightened, her smile faint but razor-edged. "Maybe. But at least the others are starting to see the cracks in your halo. That must sting."
For a heartbeat, silence stretched between them — heavy, electric, dangerous. Then footsteps sounded from the hall above, breaking the tension.
Xueyao quickly rearranged her features into their usual perfect serenity, stepping out of the stairwell with her mask back in place. But her fingers were trembling where they clutched her bag strap.
Behind her, Xueling lingered in the shadowed stairwell, her lips curling in a small, secret smile.