Smack!
A sharp sound rang through the courtyard.
"You shameless woman! How dare you refuse to give your heart to Lin An'an? She is your sister—" Lin Zhiyuan, the patriarch of the Lin household, scolded her furiously.
"I wouldn't…" Lin Yuqin's voice trembled, but she did not finish her sentence.
Ever since it had been proven that Lin An'an was Lin Zhiyuan's biological daughter, the warmth and indulgence he once showed Lin Yuqin had vanished without a trace. The father who used to praise her obedience now looked at her with nothing but impatience and disdain.
Though this was far from the first time she had been treated harshly by him, hearing such shameless words still made her heart constrict painfully. How could he calmly demand her to carve out her own heart for Lin An'an? Even if she was not his real daughter, did she truly deserve not a shred of mercy?
For years, she had silently endured ridicule and humiliation from both the family and the household servants. She had believed that if she were gentler, more obedient, more invisible, she might be spared. That perhaps she would be pitied.
Instead, her submission only made her easier to trample.
At that moment, Lin Hao, the ninth young master of the Lin family and Lin Yuqin's younger brother, strode into the courtyard. When his gaze fell upon Lin Yuqin's pale, battered face, a flicker of disgust crossed his eyes.
There was a time when he had doted on this sister so much that others complained he was spoiling her. Now, however, that tenderness existed only for Lin An'an.
"She's still refusing, Father?" Lin Hao bowed deeply to Lin Zhiyuan before lifting his head to glare at Lin Yuqin with open dissatisfaction.
Lin Zhengyuan rubbed his aching temples and frowned. "She won't listen…"
Lin Hao froze for a brief moment. Lin Yuqin had always been obedient, always careful not to provoke their father's anger. She had never defied him—until now. And when it concerned Lin An'an…
"Ah… I see," Lin Hao said slowly.
He had misunderstood nothing. It was envy—jealousy of Lin An'an—that made Lin Yuqin stubborn. How petty.
He would not allow such a tantrum.
"Father," Lin Hao said coldly, "let's see if she still refuses after being stripped and lashed."
Lin Yuqin opened her mouth to argue, but her teeth sank into her lip instead, drawing blood. She knew then that no matter what she said or did, forgiveness would never come.
What was the point of begging, when nothing would ever change?
Before the guards could step forward, she reached up calmly and pulled a slender, dark hairpin from her bun.
Its tip glimmered faintly of the most-dangerous lethal poison well-known.
"I said I won't allow that bitch to have my heart."
Lin Zhiyuan and Lin Hao stared in horror as Lin Yuqin struck the poisoned hairpin into several acupuncture points hardly without hesitation.
"Haha…" she laughed, even as her organs began to fail one by one. "Let's see how Lin An'an uses this ruined heart now…"
Her laughter echoed eerily through the courtyard.
Even if she died.
Even if she was never given another chance at life.
She would never allow the murderer of her child to live peacefully in this world.
By the time Lin Zhiyuan and Lin Hao fully grasped what had happened, Lin Yuqin was already collapsing to the ground, white foam and dark blood spilling uncontrollably from the corners of her mouth.
"Stop her!" Lin Hao shouted hoarsely.
But it was too late.
The lethal poison had long since coursed through her meridians, spreading mercilessly, devouring every last trace of vitality. Even the finest physician could do nothing now.
Lin Hao staggered back, his chest tightening as if countless invisible blades were stabbing into his heart. He could not understand it. In his memories, Lin Yuqin had always been selfish, jealous—someone who schemed against his precious sister.
So why did the sight of her suffering tear him apart?
Why did her lifeless eyes haunt him with an ache he could not suppress?
…
"Bullshit!" Lin Yue cursed inwardly.
She had just finished the novel, yet it left her feeling as if she, too, was about to vomit blood. How could anyone be written so insufferably cruel?
The entire Lin household was nothing but a den of foolish hypocrites. Especially Lin Hao and Lin Zhiyuan. After everything Lin Yuqin had sacrificed, they still drove her to such an end—without a shred of remorse.
If she were given a chance to live in that novel, Lin Yue swore she would make every single bully who wronged Lin Yuqin suffer tenfold.
In fact… why wait?
She picked up the small birthday candle resting on her desk and blew it out, making a wish with rare seriousness—to be granted a chance to be reborn into that very world.
Childish, perhaps. Yet she had never been one to give up hope.
Exhausted from endless reading and the heavy drafting work piled onto her at the company, Lin Yue soon fell into a deep sleep.
That night, in her dreams, she was mercilessly beating down every member of the Lin family—especially Lin An'an, that seemingly pure, snow-white villainess.
...
Pi pa… pi pa…
The faint, rhythmic sound slipped into Lin Yue's consciousness.
"Mei Lin."
Cold droplets splashed against her face. Instinctively, she raised a hand to wipe them away, her mind still hazy. Rain? Why was water dripping from the ceiling? And wasn't it already autumn—since when did it rain indoors?
"Mei Lin, what are you dawdling there for?" a girl whispered urgently beside her. "The Young Mistress is summoning you!"
Lin Yue's heart nearly leapt out of her chest when an unfamiliar face loomed into view. Panic seized her. She screamed and shoved the woman away without thinking.
"Ouch! Mei Lin, what's wrong with you?" the girl complained, clearly annoyed. She brushed the dust off her maid's skirt and scrambled to her feet. "Did that fall last night knock something loose in your head?"
Lin Yue didn't answer. She couldn't.
Nothing made sense. Her clothes were wrong—coarse and old-fashioned. The room was unfamiliar, dim and cramped. And this stranger kept calling her Mei Lin—the name of the First Young Mistress's personal maid.
Mei Lin.
The personal maid of the First Young Mistress.
Lin Yue sucked a sharp breath.
Her birthday wish had come true. She had really been reborn into her favorite novel.
But how? She clearly hadn't died. She had only fallen asleep.
So how was this even possible?
"Mei Lin," Qing He pressed impatiently, lowering her voice, "if you don't get up right now, I'll call the senior matron!"
In truth, she was bluffing. Qing He would never dare report her best friend to that notoriously shrewish, sharp-tongued matron.
Lin Yue knew that.
Still, her body reacted before her mind could catch up. She scrambled to her feet instinctively. "I'm coming!"
However, her words were abruptly cut off by a cold, authoritative voice at the doorway.
"What are you two still doing here after dawn?"
Ever since the senior matron gained the Second Young Mistress's favor, her temper had grown increasingly overbearing.
"So this is how you serve the household?" she snapped coldly. "Sleeping past dawn and neglecting your duties?"
Mei Lin stiffened at once and lowered her head respectfully.
She endured the scolding in silence. The senior matron's status was far above hers, and as the personal maid of a neglected mistress, Mei Lin had long grown used to such injustice. In this household, anyone associated with the First Young Mistress was destined to be trampled upon.
In the original story, Mei Lin would later sacrifice her life to save Lin Yuqin during a bandit attack on their journey to the capital in the twelfth lunar month.
Remembering this, Lin Yue's heart tightened slightly.
Mei Lin bowed again and again, offering meek apologies until the senior matron finally waved them away in irritation. Only then did Mei Lin leave the courtyard with Qing He.
On the way to the First Young Mistress's residence, Qing He lowered her voice and advised her earnestly, "Mei Lin, you should really resign from serving the First Young Mistress. Otherwise, you'll only invite trouble."
She glanced around before continuing, "The other servants already look down on you, and even the senior matron is deliberately making things hard for you. If you stay tied to the First Young Mistress, you'll end up suffering endlessly."
Anyone else might have felt fear or hesitation.
But Lin Yue—now living as Mei Lin—only smiled faintly.
She knew every twist of this story by heart. Now that she was here, she would not allow events to unfold the same way again.
This time, she would change everything.
And she would start by dealing properly with that so-called pure and flawless white moonlight—Lin An'an.
…
In Spring Plum Court, Lin Yuqin sat quietly, hands folded in her lap, waiting for her only servant.
Ever since Lin An'an entered the household, all of Lin Yuqin's loyal servants had gradually left her, fearful of being dragged into unnecessary trouble. Even her wet nurse, who had cared for her since childhood, had chosen to distance herself.
Only Mei Lin remained.
Through ridicule and hardship, through neglect and cold treatment, that little maid had never once abandoned her.
The thought stirred a wave of gratitude in Lin Yuqin's heart.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Three gentle raps sounded at the door.
"Come in," Lin Yuqin said softly.
The door opened, revealing Mei Lin standing at the threshold. She was dressed in a plain traditional maid's outfit—light green robes washed thin from wear, a white sash tied neatly at her waist. Her black hair was combed smoothly and pinned into a modest bun, with no ornament save for a simple wooden hairpin. Though her attire was humble, her posture was straight, and her eyes were clear and steady.
Mei Lin lowered her head respectfully. "Young Mistress."