Darkness.
Not the gentle kind that came with sleep, but the heavy, suffocating kind that swallowed sound, thought, and time. Chu Yunyun felt herself sinking into it, her consciousness floating like a broken feather in an endless void.
Pain was the last thing she remembered.
The cold stone floor.
The chains biting into her wrists.
The mocking smile of her half-sister.
The taste of blood in her mouth.
Then… nothing.
Was this death?
So this was what it felt like—no anger, no fear, no humiliation. Just silence.
Yet, in that silence, something stirred.
A pull.
As if an invisible force had wrapped around her soul and yanked her forward. Her body no longer existed, but her awareness did. She felt herself tearing away from something—away from the pain, away from the prison, away from the life that had betrayed her.
Suddenly, light exploded before her eyes.
Not warm light.
Not peaceful light.
But chaotic, blinding light that twisted like lightning in a storm.
Memories that were not hers crashed into her mind.
A small apartment.
A pale girl with thin arms.
A hospital bed.
A needle piercing skin.
Chu Yunyun gasped—if she still had lungs to breathe with.
"No… this isn't mine…"
Another wave hit her.
A mother's cold voice.
A father's silence.
A younger sister's fragile smile.
Blood.
Always blood.
She felt weakness seep into her bones, a dizziness so familiar it almost made her cry out.
At the same time, somewhere else in the endless darkness, another soul was drifting.
Yu Chen.
Her world had ended quietly.
There were no chains.
No screams.
No enemies laughing in her face.
Only exhaustion.
She had collapsed on the cold floor of her room, her body too weak to rise. Her heart had struggled once… twice… and then slowly stopped.
As her soul lifted from her fragile body, Yu Chen felt something she had never known in life.
Weightlessness.
No pain in her arms.
No dizziness.
No needle.
For the first time, she felt… light.
But her peace did not last.
A powerful current pulled at her, dragging her through darkness. The sensation was violent, like being thrown into a raging river with no shore in sight.
Images that were not hers filled her mind.
A grand mansion.
A girl screaming in rage.
A woman smiling cruelly.
Torture.
Betrayal.
Hatred so strong it burned.
Yu Chen trembled.
"What is this…?" she whispered, though no sound came out.
She felt emotions she had never possessed.
Anger.
Rage.
Desperation.
It was terrifying.
She had lived a quiet life.
She had endured, not fought.
She had bled, not burned.
And now she was drowning in someone else's fury.
The two souls rushed toward each other like stars colliding.
There was no choice.
No warning.
No mercy.
They crashed.
Pain unlike any physical wound exploded between them.
Chu Yunyun felt herself being torn apart—her memories mixing with foreign ones, her rage colliding with another girl's fear and obedience.
Yu Chen felt her gentle consciousness being swallowed by something wild, sharp, and furious.
Their lives overlapped.
Chu Yunyun saw herself lying weak on a hospital bed, her arm extended as blood filled a tube.
Yu Chen saw herself kneeling on stone, wrists bound, blood dripping onto the floor.
"Stop…!"
"Don't…!"
Their thoughts tangled together.
One soul wanted to survive.
The other wanted to burn.
For a moment, they existed as one.
Two pains.
Two betrayals.
Two deaths.
One fate.
Then the storm began to settle.
Yu Chen's memories faded like mist—her fear, her obedience, her quiet resignation dissolving into nothingness.
Chu Yunyun's rage remained.
Her will was stronger.
Her resentment was deeper.
Her desire to live—to fight—to destroy those who had wronged her—anchored her soul.
Slowly, the consciousness of Yu Chen retreated, leaving behind only fragments: habits, emotions, a body's instinctive memory.
And Chu Yunyun remained.
She fell.
Not downward, but inward.
Into warmth.
Into pain.
Into a heartbeat.
Her eyes flew open.
White ceiling.
A sharp smell of disinfectant.
The steady beeping of a machine.
Chu Yunyun sucked in a breath and immediately coughed, her throat burning as if she had swallowed fire. Her chest rose and fell violently, panic crashing through her veins.
"I… I'm alive…?"
Her voice was hoarse. Weak.
She lifted her hand—and froze.
This hand was thin.
Too thin.
The skin was pale, almost translucent, veins clearly visible beneath it. This was not the hand that had been chained and bruised. This was not the body that had been tortured.
Her heart slammed painfully against her ribs.
She turned her head.
Hospital bed.
IV drip.
Curtains fluttering gently.
"No…"
Memories that did not belong to her surfaced again.
Yu Chen's name.
Yu Chen's life.
Yu Chen's family.
Chu Yunyun pressed her hand to her forehead, her mind spinning.
"I… died…"
Her breathing quickened.
"I was… killed…"
Her fingers trembled as she touched her face.
Smooth.
Soft.
Unfamiliar.
She tried to sit up, but dizziness slammed into her, forcing her back down.
"Ah…!"
Her body was weak. So weak it frightened her.
This wasn't the strength of someone who had been tortured.
This was the fragility of someone who had been drained.
She closed her eyes, and Yu Chen's memories poured in fully this time.
Blood donations.
Cold parents.
A younger sister coughing softly.
A life of silent obedience.
Chu Yunyun's lips parted slightly.
"…So this is her life."
Her chest tightened.
Not with pity.
But with recognition.
The weak girl.
The dependent sister.
The manipulative family.
It was the same pattern.
Different world.
Same cage.
After everything she had suffered, she had awakened… in another fragile prison.
Tears welled in her eyes—not from sadness, but from rage.
She turned her face to the side, staring at the window where sunlight poured in.
Two lives.
Two betrayals.
Two deaths.
And now…
One body.
One chance.
Her fingers curled into the bedsheet.
"Yu Chen…" she whispered.
The name felt strange on her tongue.
"That girl is dead."
Her eyes darkened.
"But Chu Yunyun is not."
A cold fire ignited in her chest.
If fate thought it could break her twice…
It was wrong.
Very wrong.
Outside the hospital room, footsteps approached.
A familiar voice spoke softly.
"Sister… are you awake?"
Chu Yunyun closed her eyes.
The voice was gentle.
Weak.
Sweet.
And terrifyingly familiar.
Her lips curved into a faint, dangerous smile.
"Come in," she said quietly.
The game had begun.