The cold of death was supposed to be final.
But when I opened my eyes again, it wasn’t darkness that greeted me—it was sunlight.

Warm, golden rays filtered through sheer curtains and spilled onto a canopy bed far too soft for someone like me. The scent of lavender and clean linen hung in the air.

This wasn’t my cramped, one-bedroom apartment.
This was the Lin family estate.

I sat up slowly, my heart pounding. The room around me was just as I remembered. Too quiet. Too perfect.

And then the memories hit.

Not mine—hers.

No... mine, too. Again.

In my past life, I was Lin Zhiwei: the real daughter of the Lin family, brought home after eighteen years living in obscurity.

I tried to be good. Tried to smile. Tried to fit in.

But the system wouldn't let me.

It forced me into a role: the cold, arrogant, “real daughter” who couldn’t adjust. I became the perfect antagonist to the family’s golden child—Qin Yiran, the sweet, beloved fake daughter who was never meant to stay.

And when my role was fulfilled, I died.

Misunderstood. Unmourned. Forgotten.

But now, I was here again. Eighteen. Freshly returned. The beginning of everything.

No system voice in my head. No tasks. No forced emotional manipulation.

Just silence.

And the soft creak of the hallway floorboards.

I turned toward the doorway.

Standing there were three people: Father Lin, Mother Lin, and Lin Chen.

Their eyes were wide. They looked like they had seen a ghost.

Maybe they had.

I blinked at them.

“Did I say something weird?” I asked.

They didn’t respond.

Just watched me.

Too quiet. Too still. Too late to matter.

But that was fine. I didn’t come back for them.

I came back for myself. If there was one thing I’d mastered in my first life, it was how to fake being fine.

Smile when spoken to. Keep your posture straight. Speak politely. Don’t expect anything in return.

That was how I survived in this house.

So when Father Lin offered to walk with me in the garden, I nodded.

“Sure,” I said.

Let’s just get it over with. Maybe he’ll feel better if I play along.

His grip on his teacup tightened. But he said nothing. Just led the way.

The Lin estate’s garden was still beautiful. Manicured stone paths, koi ponds, cherry trees about to bloom.

“I remember this place,” I murmured.

“You do?” he asked.

Of course I do. It was the only place no one followed me.

He paused, gaze flickering.

“I didn’t know you felt that way,” he said.

I blinked.
Did I say that out loud?

No. I didn’t.

What’s going on?

That night, dinner was almost normal.

Until Qin Yiran smiled at me across the table and said, “Zhiwei, I brought you something from the bakery you used to like!”

A perfect smile. The kind that hid knives.

I looked at her.

Last time you gave me something, I ended up in the hospital for two days. Let’s not pretend.

Mother Lin dropped her spoon.

I didn’t react.

“I’m not hungry,” I said, standing up. “Thanks though.”

Keep smiling, Qin Yiran. I’m not playing anymore.

Back in my room, I opened my laptop.

If they could hear my thoughts, fine.

Let them.

Because this time, I wasn’t staying.