Chapter 2

Not long after, Gu Yuanyuan returned.

“Sister Huo, Teacher Song, it’s all handled.”

“What happened?” Huo Yao asked.

“That guy woke up yelling that three of his ribs were broken. He threatened to demand a huge compensation for medical bills or expose Teacher Song to the media for assaulting him. Just as you instructed, Sister Huo, I told him the ward has surveillance cameras and his fingerprints are all over the fruit knife. We could just call the police on him. He folded immediately, didn’t even grab his meds, and bolted. The ER nurses couldn’t stop him.”

“Good. Lawyer Zhang will handle the rest.” Huo Yao still seemed uneasy and asked, “You’re sure his injuries aren’t serious?”

They had all seen Song Guiya’s kick send the man flying.

“The doctor examined him thoroughly. Just a mild concussion. A few days of rest and he’ll be fine.”

Since a doctor had said it, Huo Yao had no choice but to believe it, no matter how unlikely it seemed. “All right. Good work. Pack up—we’re discharging.”

“Got it, Sister Huo.”

Gu Yuanyuan had been rushing around and talking nonstop. She was still panting as she packed their things.

Song Guiya poured her a glass of water.

Flustered and honored, Gu Yuanyuan froze for a half second before snatching the cup and chugging it down.

Huo Yao blinked, convinced she’d seen wrong. She eyed Song Guiya suspiciously.

All that garish makeup had come off the day she was admitted, revealing naturally exquisite, flawless features. Since waking, her gaze held a gentle warmth laced with hidden sharpness. An aloof air now clung to her, her skin snow-white, her pale lips and slender waist evoking an aura straight out of an ancient painting—unique and captivating.

Her looks didn’t match mainstream tastes, but in the entertainment industry, she was one of a kind.

Same old pretty face with no substance. So how had one tumble turned her personality upside down?

Was there really such a thing as good fortune like that?

While Song Guiya slipped into the bathroom to change, Huo Yao rose and drifted to the window. She pulled out her phone and dialed a number.

…

After finishing the discharge paperwork, Song Guiya strode out of the elevator toward the main entrance. Huo Yao grabbed her arm and yanked her back.

Song Guiya turned, her expression puzzled.

“You really planning to walk out the front door?” Huo Yao’s face was a mask of complicated emotions. “Don’t you have any idea what your reputation’s like right now?”

Song Guiya: ?

They slipped out a side door through the safe passage. At the main entrance, a seething mob of anti-fans crammed the space, waving banners and screaming themselves hoarse. They wept and wailed for Song Crow to get out of the entertainment industry.

Realization dawned.

The three women circled silently to the edge of the crowd and hurried toward the car.

Nearby, a girl perched on a flower bed was so caught up cursing Song Guiya that she missed her step. She teetered, arms windmilling, about to crash down flat on her back.

Panic seized her in that split second.

But the pain she braced for never came.

Moments later, she cracked her eyes open. A pair of elegant hands gripped her arms. She was safe.

She righted herself and bowed deeply in thanks.

“No trouble. Watch your step next time.” Song Guiya’s voice was clear and resonant, refined to perfection.

What a beautiful voice!

The girl looked up, but the woman was already walking away. That silhouette felt oddly familiar…

Wait.

Weren’t those Song Guiya’s manager and assistant by the car?

Her jaw dropped in shock, big enough to swallow an egg whole.

The nanny car peeled away. Only then did she fumble for her phone with trembling hands and fire off a message to her best friend.

“You won’t believe this. I almost ate dirt face-first while trash-talking Song Guiya outside the hospital. She saved me.”

“???”

The nanny car glided smoothly through bustling streets. Song Guiya leaned back against the seat, her head tilted toward the window. Towering skyscrapers, vibrant neon glows, and swarming crowds blurred into dazzling streaks of light and shadow.

Only now did the reality of her new life sink in.

No clashing steel or battle cries. No blood-drenched fields strewn with the dead.

This world was wonderful.

The car eased into an ultra-private villa district.

“Teacher Song, we’re home,” Gu Yuanyuan said softly.

Song Guiya pulled her thoughts back and stepped out.

Before driving off, Huo Yao leaned out with one last stern warning. “Stay inside these next few days. No internet, no nothing. Don’t worry about a thing or lift a finger. Understand?”

She dreaded the thought of Song Guiya stumbling across those anti-fan rants and diving into the fray.

By then, she would have had her fun, but the entire PR Department would have to rack their brains over it, pulling out the few scant hairs left on their heads.

Song Guiya nodded in agreement and bid farewell to Huo Yao and Gu Yuanyuan.

She walked into the clean and elegant courtyard, arriving at the door. Her habitual motion to push the door paused slightly as she glanced at the door without a knocker. Then she spotted a small horizontal pillar to the left of the door, reached out to gently grip it, and her index finger found a shallow groove.

“Beep—”

The door opened.

She entered, changed into the soft slippers, and stepped into the brightly lit living room. Before she could properly tour her new home, a woman sitting on the single-seater sofa suddenly came into view.

In that moment, Song Guiya felt all the blood in her body freeze.

Hearing the sound at the door, the woman calmly set down the script in her hand, turned around, brushed her wavy long hair behind her ear, and parted her red lips. In a casual tone, she said, “Huo Yao mentioned you were discharged from the hospital, so I stopped by on my way.”

Seeing Song Guiya frozen in place with shock in her eyes, the woman arched her delicate brow lightly and rose to walk toward her.

The silk pearl-white blouse shimmered with fine flecks of light under the lamps, the wide-leg suit pants swayed with her steps, faintly revealing her long, slender legs through the side slits, and the distinctive red beauty mark at the corner of her eye lifted with her smile—elegant yet aloof, noble and alluring.

Song Guiya snapped back to her senses and immediately dropped to one knee, clasping her hands together in a formal salute of audience.

“This humble subject, Song Guiya, pays respects to Majesty.”

As soon as the words left her mouth, the atmosphere suddenly froze, the entire living room falling silent enough to hear a pin drop.

Xi Tongyue’s sudden appearance sent waves surging through Song Guiya’s heart, like a calm lake abruptly churned into towering waves.

Why was Majesty here too?

Had something changed in the palace after her death?

Even with a thousand questions swirling in her mind, without permission to rise, she restrained her inner shock, lowered her head and eyes, and remained kneeling in place.

“What is this?”

Xi Tongyue’s puzzled voice came from above her head. Song Guiya looked up to see the woman standing there with arms crossed, her expression relaxed like a lazy cat, exuding an indescribable seductive charm without a trace of the dignified imperial authority.

At the same time, memories surfaced in her mind of how the original host had met Xi Tongyue.

It turned out that the Xi Tongyue before her was not the one she had known.

What did it matter if they looked the same or shared a name? Just like her and this world’s Song Guiya, the two women were completely unrelated in identity, background, personality, or preferences.

Song Guiya breathed a sigh of relief, though a faint, imperceptible sadness flickered in her heart.

She rose and withdrew her clasped hands, straightened her back, and said calmly with a steady expression, “Sorry, I was reading the script on the way back and got too immersed.”

“It’s rare to see you so dedicated,” Xi Tongyue teased, “You performed well.”

Song Guiya: “You’re too kind.”

Xi Tongyue gave her a meaningful look before changing the subject. “By the way, my recent schedule is all in South City, so I’m planning to stay here for a while.”

Song Guiya pondered for a few seconds before nodding faintly. “Alright.”

Seeing how obedient and compliant she was, Xi Tongyue’s red lips curved slightly. She turned and walked to the sofa. “Chi Yu will bring my things over shortly. I’m going upstairs to shower first.”

Song Guiya kept her expression neutral and replied, “Mm.”

Xi Tongyue picked up the script from the table and headed upstairs, the rhythmic click of her high heels fading away.

Only after the slender figure vanished around the stairwell corner did Song Guiya relax her tense body, rubbing away the thin sheen of sweat from her palms with her fingertips.

Huo Yao would never assign Song Guiya scripts for period dramas.

As Song Guiya’s gold master, Xi Tongyue couldn’t possibly be unaware of that.

Yet just now, Xi Tongyue hadn’t called her out on it.

Why?

On top of that, the more pressing headache was how she was supposed to handle her absurd, unbelievable relationship with Xi Tongyue.