My name is Shen Zhao.
I'm a reborn soul, and I'm also—
Never mind. Let's start from the beginning.
In my last life, I died at Shen Nian's hands.
I don't want to remember the details.
Suffice to say, the hatred ran so deep it ate at my bones.
Deep enough that I couldn't rest even in death.
Deep enough that when I opened my eyes and found myself back at 18, my first thought wasn't relief.
It was "Finally. I have my chance."
After I was reborn, I thought for a long time about how to get my revenge.
Killing her outright would be too kind.
Ruining her reputation would be too boring.
I wanted her to live.
To live well, and watch herself lose everything.
Lose her status as the Shen family's young miss.
Lose everyone's favor and affection.
Lose the cleverness and pride she held so dear.
I wanted to turn her into a pathetic little bug, one that could only cling to me to survive.
Then I went back to the Shen family, and I saw her.
18-year-old Shen Nian stood in the living room, wearing a white dress.
Her hair was tucked behind her ears, showing off her small earlobes and the slender line of her neck.
When she saw me, her pupils contracted.
Only for a split second, so fast I almost missed it.
Then she smiled.
That perfect, flawless fake smile.
"You must be my sister, right? Welcome home."
I stared at her, and in my head, I replayed every single thing she'd done to me in my last life.
Those memories were sharp as knives, carving themselves into my nerves, one cut after another.
They reminded me this woman didn't deserve a single drop of kindness.
I started laying my plans.
I was going to take everything from her.
Slowly, bit by bit.
I was going to make her taste what it felt like to fall from her pedestal.
Then she got into a car accident.
I was drinking tea when I got the news.
The teacup froze in my hand, spilling a little hot tea that scalded the soft skin at the base of my thumb.
I wasn't worried she'd die.
She couldn't die.
If she died, who would I take my revenge on?
But I never expected she'd—
"Post-concussion syndrome. Her cognitive function has been partially impaired. We'll need to monitor her condition further."
The doctor pushed his glasses up, his tone flat and clinical.
"From what we can see so far, the patient's reaction speed has dropped significantly, and her emotional expression has become very limited. To put it simply…"
"She's gone stupid." I cut the doctor off.