As she was walking down the road, her train of thought was broken when a bunch of shadows shifted ahead.
A group of rough men blocked the narrow alley she had wandered into, grinning like a bunch of well-bred villains.
"Well, well. Isn't this the daughter of the Shen's?" The leader sneered, stepping closer. "Why are you all alone like this at night, sweety? Didn't your fiancé tell you it's dangerous?"
Shen Ruyi stopped walking, her senses immediately sharpening.
This wasn't a coincidence.
The way they moved, deliberately closing off the exits, wasn't they hired by someone to molest her? She wasn't naive enough to not understand this little scheme.
Looks like someone wanted her to get bruised, broken, and humiliated, to be plastered across tomorrow's headlines as Jiang Yanzhi's worthless fiancée.
If it had been the original Shen Ruyi, she would have panicked. She would have cried, begged, and been beaten down as planned.
But she wasn't the original.
She was someone who had died once already. Someone who understood too well the cruelty of the world.
Someone who liked to play the pig before devouring the tiger.
When the first man lunged, she stepped aside, her elbow slamming into his ribs with a sharp crack. He wheezed, falling to the ground.
The second tried to grab her arm. She twisted, driving her knee into his stomach before tossing him against the wall.
One by one, they fell down after being beaten up, not by the weak little girl they expected, but by a predator cloaked in her skin. Her movements were precise, efficient, fueled by the burning clarity of someone who refused to be a pawn any longer.
Within minutes, the alley was silent except for groans of pain.
She stood amidst them, her chest heaving lightly, adrenaline thrumming through her veins.
Her gaze swept the broken men at her feet, and she spoke in a low, steady voice. "Tell whoever sent you that Shen Ruyi is no one's fool anymore. If they try this again, I won't stop at bruises."
Then she stepped past them, the night air cool against her flushed skin.
Her heart was feeling somewhat steady now.
Yes. This was now her reality.
She was Shen Ruyi, the woman despised by Jiang Yanzhi.
But she was no longer the naive fool they remembered.
As the neon lights of the city bled into the distance, she lifted her chin. If fate had tied her life to his, then she would not shrink back.
She had died once loving him from afar. This time, she would not leave without rewriting her place in his story.
And with that, she turned her steps toward the Shen manor, toward the beginning of a new life,
The crowd was loud, but Shen Ruyi's world was quiet.
On the towering billboard above the intersection, Jiang Yuanzhi's face gleamed beneath the city lights. His newest album cover, the kind of dreamy, piercing gaze that made millions swoon, seemed to be looking directly at her. The sharp jawline, the tousled dark hair, and those eyes that carried both arrogance and melancholy… they were the same eyes she had admired from her world, behind the safety of a phone screen.
Now, here, they were more real than ever.
She tilted her head back, staring at that giant photograph as if it held the answers to the mess her life had suddenly become.
Her chest tightened.
So this is what fate meant?
She wasn't just reborn into any stranger's body. She was now Shen Ruyi, Jiang Yuanzhi's fiancée.
The cruel irony stung. In her old life, she had been one of those faceless girls in the crowd, screaming his name, clutching banners, staying up late to stream his songs. His music had been the rope that pulled her through her darkest nights. And now she was standing in the body of the woman who was supposed to stand beside him forever, except the fact he couldn't even bear to look at her without disdain.
A flicker of bitterness curled in her heart.
The passersby didn't notice her, or if they did, they simply assumed she was another awestruck fan staring at the idol's giant portrait. In this city, Jiang Yuanzhi's face was everywhere. On billboards, in magazines, across digital screens. To love him was normal, and to be consumed by him was inevitable.
But only she knew the cruel joke.
She stood there longer than she meant to, locked in a silent conversation with the man who wasn't even here. Then, at last, she tore her gaze away, turned on her heel, and walked into the stream of evening traffic heading home.
Home. Or rather, Shen Ruyi's home.
The Shen residence was grand without being ostentatious, the kind of estate that whispered of old money rather than shouted about new wealth. She entered through the carved wooden gates, feeling the heavy weight of a life that wasn't hers pressing down on her shoulders.
She moved quickly up the marble staircase, past portraits of ancestors and the faint scent of sandalwood lingering in the halls. She didn't want to face anyone tonight.
In her new bedroom, the one that belonged to Shen Ruyi, she locked the door and slipped into the adjoining bath. The water was hot, fragrant with rose oil. She submerged herself, hoping the warmth would melt away the confusion. But no matter how long she soaked, her mind wouldn't quiet.
Images of the day replayed again and again. The moment she woke in this body. The press of reality when she learned whose life she was inhabiting. The crushing knowledge that her beloved idol and his fans loathed her, loathed Shen Ruyi to be exact.
She climbed out, dried off, and slipped into silk pajamas before sprawling across the wide bed. The chandelier overhead cast a soft golden glow, but it only made the shadows in her heart deeper.
Her thoughts tumbled like waves.
Why me? Why this body? What was I supposed to do?