The wind howled like icy blades, slicing across Ai Mu's cheeks and sending her short hair flying in wild disarray.
She stood at the edge of a thirty-story rooftop, gazing down at the city below. Neon lights blurred into a dizzying sea of motion, and the tiny streams of traffic glowed like silent fireflies. Her husband, Gu Liang, stood not far from her—closer to the abyss. His heels hung completely off the ledge, balanced only by the balls of his feet and one hand gripping the cold railing behind him. His black suit jacket billowed in the wind like a pair of broken wings—dark, useless, and unable to carry him away.
"Gu Liang! Are you insane? Come back!" Ai Mu forced her voice to sound calm and firm, the same tone she used at negotiation tables—controlled, commanding. But only she knew how violently her heart was pounding, how cold fear gripped her chest, and how her palms were already clammy with sweat.
Gu Liang slowly turned his head. His face showed no rage, no sorrow, no hysteria—only a chilling, deathly calm. That stillness terrified Ai Mu more than any scream.
"Three months, Ai Mu." His voice was distorted by the wind, yet each word pierced her ears with clarity. "We've been married for three months. The wedding decorations haven't even faded. The photo you chose still hangs above our bed."
Ai Mu inhaled sharply, the cold air stabbing her lungs. She tried to reason with him, to soothe herself. "It's my fault. All my fault. Let's not talk about this now. Come back inside. It's dangerous out there. We'll go home and talk, okay?" She inched forward, the rough concrete railing scraping her palm.
"Talk about what?" Gu Liang laughed softly, a sound soaked in desolation and bitter clarity. "Talk about how you 'admire' that intern? How young he is, full of life, like a beam of light piercing the dullness of our marriage? Or how you'd rather sign away everything we built together just to leave me immediately?"
He shook his head, his gaze sharpening like a hawk's. "I won't divorce you, Ai Mu. Never. Not even death can separate us."
His words were so resolute, Ai Mu felt a chill deep in her bones. She knew he wasn't joking. In these three months of marriage, she had seen through the gentle exterior to the obsessive, suffocating love beneath—the very reason she had decided to escape.
"I promise! I won't divorce you!" she screamed, abandoning all pride. "Just come back! I swear!"
Gu Liang stared at her, his eyes swirling with pain, love, and a terrifying sense of release. He reached out his hand, voice soft and hypnotic: "Okay. Then come pull me back, Ai Mu. Come here. Pull me back."
Her mind screamed: It's a trap! But seeing him teetering on the edge, her remaining sense of duty and humanity wouldn't let her retreat. She couldn't watch him die.
Gritting her teeth, she climbed the waist-high railing. The cold metal made her shiver. The wind was stronger here, shaking her balance. She stretched out her arm, fingertips brushing his icy hand.
The moment she grasped it—before she could even pull—Gu Liang's grip tightened. He pulled, not upward, but down.
"Ah—!"
The world spun.
She had no time to think. His strength yanked her violently from the safety of the ledge, plunging her into the abyss. The sensation of falling seized her, organs twisting. City lights spun and stretched into dazzling ribbons. Wind screamed in her ears, mingling with her own shattered scream.
In the chaos, Gu Liang held her tightly. His arms locked around her waist like iron shackles. His cold lips brushed her ear, and in a voice calm and haunting, he whispered:
"Now, we'll never be apart, Ai Mu."
His voice carried a chilling satisfaction, as if he had finally gotten what he wanted.
…
Pain.
Her head throbbed like it was being hammered from the inside.
Ai Mu gasped awake, breath ragged. The rooftop, the fall, the wind—it all felt too real. But what she saw was an ornate wooden canopy, carved with intricate patterns. The scent of sandalwood lingered in the air. A heavy silk quilt covered her, embroidered with golden phoenixes in regal flight.
She… wasn't dead?
How could she survive a fall from thirty stories?
"Miss! You're awake! Thank the heavens!" A young girl in green robes rushed to her side, tears of joy streaming down her face. "Quick! Inform the Prince and the Consort! The Lady has awakened!"
Lady? Prince?
The unfamiliar titles made Ai Mu's mind spin. She tried to sit up, but her body felt weak, like her bones had been scattered.
Then came the flood—a torrent of memories not her own. A splitting headache accompanied the surge, threatening to drown her identity.
The Great Feng Dynasty. A matriarchal world where women held power—studied, governed, inherited titles. Men were taught domestic arts and obedience, prized for gentleness and virtue.
She was now the eldest daughter of the Ai royal household. A noble Lady. Three days ago, she and Gu Liang, son of a former minister, had fallen into a lake during a boating accident. She had been unconscious since. And Gu Liang…
Soul transmigration?
Could it be him? The man who fell with her—was he here too?
The thought chilled her to the core. If it was truly him, his obsession would follow her even here.
No. It mustn't be him.
"I won't let you trap me again," she vowed silently.
"Gu Liang…" she murmured, voice trembling.
The maid, Qing Dai, responded, "You remember him? He woke up two days ago. But… he's in trouble. His engagement was canceled. They say his reputation is ruined."
Ruined. Disgraced. Abandoned.
Each word struck Ai Mu like a hammer.
She forced herself to calm down. You're the Lady now. You have power. Even if it's him, he's just a fallen noble. What can he do?
But deep down, she knew his madness too well.
She must hide. He must never know.
"I… my head hurts. I don't remember much," she said, feigning confusion.
Pretending to forget was her best shield—for now.
…
Meanwhile, in the Minister's residence.
Gu Liang stood by the window, pale, gazing at the bleak winter courtyard. He had awakened two days ago, absorbed this body's memories, and understood his disgrace—tainted reputation, broken engagement, bleak future.
But none of that mattered compared to one question: Was the Lady of Ai… her?
Coincidence? Or fate?
He didn't believe in coincidence. In the other world, he bound her with death. In this one, if she existed, he would find her.
His love clung to her soul—not her body.
A servant entered quietly. "Sir, news from Ai residence… The Lady has awakened."
Gu Liang's hand paused on the chessboard.
"Any signs of… abnormality?" he asked calmly.
"She seems to have lost her memory," the servant replied.
Memory loss?
Gu Liang's lips curled into a faint, chilling smile.
Real confusion—or a mask like his?
Ai Mu, are you hiding again?
He needed to see her eyes. To catch the habits etched into her soul.
He stared into the mirror—at a handsome, unfamiliar face. But the gaze was unmistakable: obsessive, calculating, relentless.
Ai Mu, if you're here…
The rules may have changed. But the ending never will.
He needed a test. And his "misfortune" might be the perfect tool to get close again.