Chapter 1
The old restaurant hummed with the kind of warmth only years could cultivate.
Weathered red lanterns swayed lazily from dark wooden beams, their faded tassels brushing against decades of laughter, drunken confessions, and lingering conversations. Yellowed calligraphy scrolls lined the walls beside framed photographs of patrons long forgotten by time. At seven in the evening, the restaurant thrived in familiar chaos—chopsticks clicking against porcelain bowls, oil crackling from the open kitchen, and the comforting fragrance of garlic, soy sauce, and steamed dumplings curling through the air like an invitation.
Near the window, six chairs surrounded a round wooden table.
Five were already occupied.
The sixth had only recently been filled.
Lin Xia sat with effortless ease, one hand loosely wrapped around a porcelain teacup while the other rested against the arm of her chair. She possessed the sort of presence that never fought for attention yet somehow drew it naturally. Her smiles were subtle, her expressions measured, but people found themselves relaxing around her without realizing when it happened.
“Wait, wait—you’re seriously defending the male lead again?” Mei Lin scoffed dramatically, tapping her chopsticks against her bowl. “He let the villainess shoulder all the blame. That’s not misunderstood behavior—that’s cowardice.”
Across from her, Qiao Yu let out an unimpressed snort. “If a man like that existed in real life, I’d paint him as a swamp frog and call it modern art.”
Laughter circled the table instantly.
“Don’t insult frogs,” An Wei deadpanned before casually picking up another piece of braised pork. “Even they have standards.”
Lin Xia’s quiet laughter blended into the noise as her attention drifted toward the girl seated beside her.
The newcomer.
Chen Ru sat with visible restraint, shoulders slightly rigid, hands folded too properly in her lap as though she feared disturbing the harmony around her. A second-year engineering student, she listened more than she spoke, nodding occasionally while adjusting the glasses slipping down her nose.
Lin Xia tilted her head slightly, her tone gentle enough to soothe without sounding overly careful.
“What about you, Ru Ru?” she asked. “You finished the novel too, didn’t you?”
The conversation paused.
Not abruptly—
Just enough for everyone’s attention to settle on the younger girl.
Chen Ru blinked, caught off guard. “I… yes,” she answered softly, fingers tightening around the edge of the table. “I just thought… maybe the villainess wasn’t completely wrong.”
A brief silence followed.
Not awkward.
Curious.
Mei Lin leaned forward immediately, interest sparking in her eyes. “Oh? Now that’s unexpected. Explain.”
Encouraged by the lack of judgment around her, Chen Ru gathered herself before speaking again.
“She grew up in an environment where everyone expected perfection from her,” she said quietly. “And the moment she failed, everything collapsed around her. I think… maybe she was only trying to survive the only way she knew how.”
Qiao Yu arched a brow, visibly intrigued. “Okay… that’s actually a decent interpretation.”
“Not bad,” An Wei agreed with an approving nod.
The stiffness in Chen Ru’s posture loosened little by little.
Lin Xia watched her with a faint smile resting on her lips—warm enough to reassure without making the girl self-conscious.
“That’s the interesting thing about stories,” she said, lightly tracing the rim of her teacup. “Everyone reads the same plot… but walks away with a different truth.”
Her voice remained calm and unhurried, yet it carried clearly through the lively noise surrounding them.
“And sometimes,” she added, amusement flickering briefly in her eyes, “the villain was simply never given the chance to explain her side.”
For the span of a heartbeat, the atmosphere around the table softened.
Then Mei Lin slapped the table dramatically. “Alright, that settles it. I officially approve of the newbie.”
Another wave of laughter erupted, louder this time, freer and more natural.
Even Chen Ru laughed along now, the nervousness in her expression fading into something lighter.
Belonging.
Lin Xia observed quietly from the side, fingers brushing absentmindedly against her teacup. Around people she trusted, she slipped easily into conversation—lighthearted, engaging, effortlessly drawing others in. Yet beneath that warmth lingered a quieter side of her, one that revealed little and noticed far too much.
Still—
Moments like these made even her lower her guard.
Outside, the evening deepened as city lights flickered awake one after another beneath the darkening sky.
Inside, around that worn wooden table filled with laughter and half-finished dishes, something small and fleeting quietly began to take shape—
The beginning of a story none of them yet realized they were already part of.
The night air carried a coolness absent from the warmth of the restaurant, tinged faintly with spices, cigarette smoke, and the distant scent of rain-soaked pavement. The street remained lively in a quieter, more intimate way now—neon lights flickering against glass windows, scooters slipping through narrow lanes, muffled laughter spilling from nearby storefronts.
“Next time, I’m choosing the restaurant,” Mei Lin announced dramatically, stretching her arms overhead. “Somewhere with decent desserts for once.”
“You say that every single time,” Qiao Yu shot back without missing a beat.
Their voices intertwined effortlessly as the group wandered toward the roadside beneath the glow of the streetlights.
Lin Xia lingered a few steps behind them, her phone resting loosely in her palm while she checked the ride-hailing app. A small blue icon blinked steadily across the screen.
Your driver is arriving.
She lifted her gaze, scanning the passing cars before exhaling softly.
Tomorrow.
Her thoughts shifted instinctively toward work.
Class Eight.
A subtle furrow appeared between her brows.
That class was exhausting in ways words barely described. Half the students treated rules like optional suggestions, while the rest seemed determined to test the limits of her patience simply for entertainment. She could already picture tomorrow vividly—the restless chatter, unfinished assignments, chairs scraping loudly against the floor the moment her back turned toward the whiteboard.
Maybe lecturing isn’t working anymore, she mused inwardly. I should make the class more interactive instead.
Headlights swept around the corner.
“That’s mine,” she called, glancing toward her friends. “Text me when you all get home.”
“Of course, Teacher Lin,” An Wei teased lazily. “Try not to terrorize your students tomorrow.”
A faint smile curved against Lin Xia’s lips as she stepped off the curb.
Then—
Everything fractured.
A violent burst of white light.
The shriek of tires against asphalt.
An impact she never saw coming.
The world lurched sideways.
Her body was flung violently across the pavement, breath ripped from her lungs before her mind could even process what had happened. Cold concrete slammed against her skin with brutal force.
Then came the noise.
Fragments of panic crashed around her.
“Lin Xia—!”
“Someone call an ambulance!”
“Don’t touch her—wait—!”
Her friends’ voices cut through the ringing in her ears, distorted and trembling. Somewhere nearby, people were shouting. Someone sounded like they were crying.
It hurts…
No.
That was the strange part.
The pain felt distant.
Muted.
As though her body no longer fully belonged to her.
Above her, neon lights blurred into streaks of fractured color.
She tried to inhale.
Nothing came.
Her fingertips twitched weakly against the ground, yet she couldn’t feel the movement.
The voices around her gradually faded—
Closer.
Farther.
Then barely there at all.
“Stay with me! Lin Xia—stay awake!”
I’m here…
She tried to answer.
Tried to move.
But her lips refused to obey.
Darkness crept slowly into the corners of her vision, swallowing the world inch by inch like an incoming tide.
And then—
Everything disappeared.
