Whispering voices.
A sharp, throbbing pain pulsing through her head.
The scent of a strange perfume—sweet to the point of nausea.
Lin Xiuyi opened her eyes to see a ceiling of carved wood, worn silk curtains swaying in a cold breeze. This was not her modern apartment. It was not even a hospital.
"Miss! The young miss has finally awakened!"
She turned toward the voice. A girl of about sixteen stood there, dressed in a simple cotton robe, her eyes red from crying.
"Wh–who are you?" Lin Xiuyi tried to speak, only to find her voice unfamiliar and weak.
"I'm Yuan Yuan, your maid. Oh heavens, we thought you would never wake up after falling from the balcony."
Memories flooded in—no, not her memories. Someone else's.
Xian Ling. The third daughter of the Hu family. Fifteen years old. Her mother had died in childbirth. Her father, a poor baron barely clinging to his title. A stepmother… and a half-sister, Xian Mei—seventeen years old, more beautiful, more cunning.
And the fall from the balcony… it hadn't been an accident.
"Where is Xian Mei?" she asked, her voice steadier this time.
Yuan Yuan trembled. "Miss… Miss Mei is in the flower garden with the madam."
A sense of danger surged through Lin Xiuyi's veins. This was not her life. But she was here now. And if she wanted to survive, she would have to play this deadly game.
Yuan Yuan helped her sit up. Her new body was thin, fragile, and young. She looked into the bronze mirror the maid brought her.
A different face. Dark almond-shaped eyes, delicate brows, small lips. Not strikingly beautiful like the image of Xian Mei from her borrowed memories—but there was a sharp intelligence in those eyes, something that had not been there before.
"What exactly happened before I fell?" she asked, studying the unfamiliar reflection.
Yuan Yuan took a deep breath. "You were with Miss Mei on the western balcony… the two of you were talking… then you screamed and fell. Miss Mei said you lost your balance while trying to catch a butterfly."
A butterfly. How clichéd.
"Was anyone else there with us?"
"No… no one." But Yuan Yuan avoided her gaze.
"Yuan Yuan, if you want me to stay alive—and if you want to remain in my service—you must tell me the truth."
After a moment of hesitation, the maid whispered, "Old Servant Li was chopping firewood in the lower courtyard… He said… he said he heard the sound of an argument before the fall."
An argument. A shove. An attempted murder.
"Where is Servant Li now?"
"He was sent to the southern estate the day after the incident. The madam said he was lazy."
The witness had been removed. Cleanly. Too clean.
Lin Xiuyi—now Xian Ling—closed her eyes. In her previous life, she had been a successful lawyer, dealing with crimes and corrupt corporations. But this… this was different. Here, there was no police, no fair courts. Only power, money, and reputation.
"Yuan Yuan, bring me something to eat. Then I want to see my father."