Ruoxi awoke to the scent of damp stone and aged wood.
The ceiling above her wasn't familiar — rough brickwork, with faint mold creeping down its edges. Her wrists weren't bound, but her muscles ached, as though she'd been unconscious for hours.
She sat up.
A single bulb flickered above. The room was underground — she was sure of it. Stone walls. One rusted door. No windows. A heavy metal cabinet leaned against the far wall, dust dancing in the weak light.
"Where… am I?" she whispered.
Then the memory surged back — the music box, the mirror, the girl with her face.
Mo Linyue.
Or was it someone else?
Ruoxi wasn't sure anymore. She'd always been certain of her identity. Now she wasn't even sure of her name.
Aboveground…
Mo Zeyan stood in the doorway of the north wing room, fury coiled beneath his skin.
He'd ordered this room sealed years ago. Buried the ghosts, locked the past behind velvet ropes and polite lies.
Yet someone had dared disturb it. Reopen it.
And now, Ruoxi was missing.
His eyes scanned the room, settling on the scorched music box still turning on the floor.
He lifted it.
Underneath was a loose floorboard — recently pried open.
Zeyan knelt and tugged the wood away.
Inside was a small locket, blackened at the edges but still intact. He clicked it open.
Two girls smiled back at him.
One was Linyue.
The other—he froze.
The second girl was Ruoxi.
But this photo was dated three years before the fire.
Before she was even born, according to official records.
His throat dried.
"What the hell are you?"
Back underground…
Footsteps echoed beyond the door.
Ruoxi jumped up, heart thudding.
The door creaked open.
And a figure stepped in.
An older woman, draped in a plain gray shawl, her hair snow-white and braided neatly down her back.
Ruoxi instinctively backed away.
But the woman raised a hand. "Don't be afraid. I'm not here to hurt you."
"Who are you?"
"My name is Auntie Mei. I was the Mo household's caretaker... until the fire."
Ruoxi's eyes narrowed. "You were there?"
"Yes," Auntie Mei said, walking slowly toward her. "And I know the truth everyone's worked hard to forget."
Ruoxi's voice trembled. "Tell me."
Auntie Mei sighed. "Twelve years ago, Mo Qinghua had two daughters. Linyue… and you."
Ruoxi's breath hitched.
"No. I was born to Liang Shuyin—"
"You were given to her. After the fire."
Ruoxi's knees buckled.
"No, that can't be—"
"Your biological mother, Mo Qinghua, died shortly after the fire. Zeyan was the only survivor who remembered. He believed only Linyue died. But I— I saw someone take you from the ashes."
Ruoxi stared at her. "So you're saying... I'm not Liang Ruoxi?"
"You were Mo Ruoxi," Auntie Mei whispered. "Twin to Mo Linyue. Separated to protect you both."
Ruoxi clutched her chest. "Why would they lie?"
"Because one child was marked for death."
The words echoed like a curse.
Meanwhile…
Zeyan stormed into his father's private vault, bypassing biometric locks only a Mo could open.
Inside were the Mo family's sealed documents.
He went to the back cabinet. Pulled free a folder marked "M.R."
Mo Ruoxi.
His hands trembled as he opened it.
Birth records. Identical DNA profiles. Two children. One mother.
Twins.
"Linyue and Ruoxi…"
He remembered now — faint flashes. His mother screaming. One baby gone. One wrapped in a wet towel. The fire. His mind had blocked it all.
Then came the order: "Erase the second child. One death is enough scandal."
Zeyan's fists clenched.
"They separated them. Lied to me. Lied to everyone."
He turned toward the camera feed.
"She's still in the house."
Back below…
Ruoxi leaned against the cold wall, Auntie Mei beside her, the truth sinking like stones in her gut.
"Then who was the girl I saw in the north wing?" Ruoxi asked. "She looked like me."
Auntie Mei lowered her head. "That… is the question I can't answer. Perhaps Linyue didn't die either."
"Impossible," Ruoxi whispered. "That fire—"
"Was started intentionally," Auntie Mei interrupted. "To erase a Mo daughter who learned too much."
Ruoxi went still. "Who?"
"Mo Linyue was investigating Qinghua's dealings. She found out the Mo family wasn't just wealthy… they were connected to illegal medical trials. Children. Orphans."
Ruoxi blinked, horrified.
"She threatened to go to the media. The next day, the fire started."
Ruoxi's voice was hoarse. "You think… someone in the family—"
"Not think," Auntie Mei said. "I know. And now that you've come back… whoever did it will try again."
Aboveground
Zeyan activated the old tunnel map — a layout few knew existed.
Ruoxi was beneath the east gardens.
He grabbed a flashlight, gun, and earpiece.
"You survived one fire," he whispered. "I won't let you burn again."
In the underground chamber…
The door slammed open.
Auntie Mei shoved Ruoxi behind her.
A figure stepped in — face covered, voice robotic.
"Time to finish what was started."
He raised a match.
A hiss of gas filled the air.
Ruoxi screamed.
Then—**
BANG!
The figure dropped.
Mo Zeyan stood in the doorway, gun still smoking.
He rushed to Ruoxi, pulling her into his arms. "Are you hurt?"
She stared up at him, trembling.
"I don't know who I am anymore."
He cupped her face.
"You're mine. That's all I need to know."