Chapter 2 – Awakening
A sharp gasp tore from her throat, raw and ragged, as though the air itself had been stolen from her lungs.
Liang Yue lurched upright, clutching her chest, each breath a searing, desperate demand for life. Her eyes darted wildly, expecting the cold marble beneath her, the mocking sneers of her husband, the victorious smirk of her cousin, the stench of roses mingling with iron-heavy blood.
But none of it was there.
Silk sheets, impossibly soft and warm, tangled around her trembling hands. Her canopy bed, high and regal, seemed to cradle her like a memory she had longed for but never possessed. The faint scent of lavender drifted in from the open window—clean, pure, a stark contrast to the choking scent of death she remembered.
Her gaze snapped to the mirror across the room.
The reflection staring back was not the woman who had crawled to her death in despair. No hollow shadows lurked beneath her eyes, no lines etched from sleepless nights or sorrow. Her skin glowed, smooth and unblemished. Her hair, long and glossy, cascaded down her back, catching the sunlight streaming through the curtains, a river of silk untouched by years of torment.
She stumbled to her feet, nearly toppling over the edge of the rug, palms pressed against the glass. The reflection mirrored her every motion, but it was stronger, steadier, almost defiant.
"No… this… this isn't possible," she whispered, voice trembling yet edged with disbelief.
She spun, taking in the room in a slow, frantic scan. Everything was as it had been years ago—the lacquered vanity gleaming under the morning light, the porcelain vase holding fresh lilies, the faint scent of their pristine petals filling the air. Even the calendar on the wall bore a date that made her chest tighten painfully.
Her eyes froze.
Her breath caught.
It was the year she had married Xu Liwei.
Her knees buckled. She sank to the edge of the bed, hands clutching the sheets as if their softness could anchor her in reality. Memories came crashing back in jagged, cruel shards—his cold smirk, the predatory gleam in his eyes, her cousin's venomous laughter as the world she had built collapsed around her. The suffocating despair of her final moments gripped her anew, echoing through her veins.
But she was alive. Truly alive.
Her fingers pressed tremblingly to her lips, then her abdomen, half-expecting to find the familiar marks of cruelty or barrenness from the medical treatments her husband had forced upon her. But there was nothing. Only warmth. Only unbroken flesh. Only potential.
Tears pricked her eyes, hot and relentless, blurring the edges of her vision. Rage and relief collided within her, a violent storm.
"Is this… a dream? Or… did I really…"
Her question hung in the air, unanswered except by the rhythm of her own heart, thrumming fiercely like a war drum. She had died. She had truly died. And yet here she was, reborn, returned to the beginning with the knowledge of all that had come before.
The universe had given her another chance. Another life. Another battlefield. And this time, the blade was in her hands, not the chains.
A faint, muffled voice drifted through the door, a reminder that the world had moved on while she had been elsewhere.
"Yes, the engagement with Young Master Xu will be finalized this week. The banquet must be perfect."
Liang Yue's blood froze. Then it boiled.
That engagement—the cursed day when her descent had begun, when every lie, every betrayal had first taken root. When she had smiled, pretending to trust the very people who would devour her soul.
She pressed her palms to her face, breathing shakily, letting the reality sink in. Every instinct screamed at her: This is your moment. This is your chance.
Rising slowly, deliberately, she wiped the tears from her cheeks. Her reflection in the mirror now held a new intensity—youthful, yes, but eyes blazing with steel, with cunning, with the promise of revenge.
Gone was the timid girl who had cried silently at night, who had clung to hope in the face of cruelty. Gone was the naive wife who had trusted her cousin's smile. Gone was the fallen heiress who had walked into the slaughterhouse with a fragile, trusting heart.
Now, she was someone else entirely. Someone sharper. Someone prepared. Someone lethal.
She took a deep breath, letting it fill her lungs, letting it steady her trembling hands. This life would not be wasted. This time, she would act before the monsters could strike. She would unravel every lie, every scheme, every thread that had once bound her to misery.
A slow, dangerous smile curved her lips as she whispered, almost reverently, "This time… Xu Liwei… I'll ruin you first."
Her mind raced. Every detail of her previous life flashed before her eyes—the subtle manipulations, the hidden betrayals, the moments where she had faltered. She cataloged each memory like precious weapons, each one a tool to be wielded in this new life. Nothing would surprise her again.
Her hands clenched into fists, fingernails biting into her palms, grounding herself in the reality of her rebirth. Every wound she had carried, every tear she had shed, every humiliation she had endured—they were no longer marks of defeat. They were fuel. Fuel for precision, for cunning, for vengeance.
She paced the room, letting her mind unfurl like a master strategist. Her empire, her alliances, her reputation—everything would be rebuilt from the ashes, stronger, untouchable. Every enemy would learn that Liang Yue was no longer a woman to be underestimated.
Her gaze fell once more to the mirror. The woman staring back was beautiful, yes, but deadly in a way the world would soon learn. The reflection no longer evoked despair. It radiated authority, power, and a simmering promise of retribution.
Outside, the city carried on, oblivious to the storm that had returned. But Liang Yue knew: storms didn't announce themselves—they struck, and the world bent to them.
And she, reborn, sharpened by death and betrayal, was that storm.
She lifted her chin, steadying her trembling frame, and let the words fall from her lips with a clarity that echoed in the still room:
"This time… the hunter is no longer prey."
And somewhere deep in the core of her being, she felt the first thrill of anticipation. Every encounter, every confrontation, every whispered conversation would now be hers to command.
The door clicked open, and a servant stepped in, bowing nervously. "Miss Liang… breakfast is ready, and—"
She cut him off with a single look. No words were needed. The fire in her eyes told him everything: she had returned, and the world she once knew would never recognize her again.
Silk and sunlight swirled around her, a canvas of her rebirth. And as she prepared to step out into the day, Liang Yue knew one thing for certain:
This life… would belong to her.