Chapter 2

Song Yuhuan had thought she would fall apart. Instead, now that the day had actually come, she found herself surprisingly calm.

Maybe she’d developed a good attitude over the years. Maybe she’d always known this day would come.

Only three words filled her mind: It’s finally here.

She waited for the rest. Surely there would be rules and a quest. Why had she been brought here? What was her identity supposed to be? How could she leave?

But she waited and waited, and nothing happened.

Song Yuhuan: That’s it?

Song Yuhuan: ?

That really was it. No further instructions—and the cold mechanical voice was gone, too.

She’d been calm a moment ago. Now she was starting to panic.

Why does fate treat me like this? What on earth did I do in a past life?

Song Yuhuan closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

Don’t let anyone find out she was an outsider… They wanted her to play a role but hadn’t given her a script?

Who’d come up with rules this unfair?

Song Yuhuan pressed her lips together.

She was usually a very polite person, but right now she had a lot of curses she wanted to let loose.

Then she remembered the mechanical voice’s first words: “Survive.”

Could I get out if I just stay alive?

Song Yuhuan looked around the room. She couldn’t tell what era or setting it belonged to. The décor was a jumble of styles, both Chinese and European. There were no electronic devices, but when she went to the window, she could see a utility pole outside.

The house stood somewhere remote. There wasn’t a single other building in sight.

Song Yuhuan turned away from the window and searched the bookcase, desk, and drawers. The room’s previous owner seemed to have no hobbies and no interest in writing. There was nothing that might reveal their identity or personality.

If someone wants me dead, they could at least be direct about it. They don’t have to go to all this trouble.

Song Yuhuan sat on the bed, wondering what had become of her life. A sudden knock at the door made her jump.

She stared at it, breathing a little too fast, as if some monster lurked outside.

Song Yuhuan closed her eyes and tried to calm herself. Her fists clenched, then relaxed.

When no one answered, the person outside knocked twice more.

“Come in,” Song Yuhuan said, forcing herself to sound calm.

If she didn’t know what expression to make, it was better to make none at all.

A woman in a maid’s uniform walked in. She looked to be around twenty, with a round face that seemed rather friendly.

But Song Yuhuan couldn’t afford to let her guard down. The more innocent someone looked, the more frightening they might be. She could be some kind of major villain, for all Song Yuhuan knew.

“Miss, school starts tomorrow. You should get to bed early tonight.”

Song Yuhuan: ?

She had to go to school?

Her vision went dark.

Schools were rarely good places in horror stories.

The villa was already scary enough. Did this place really need another element?

“I know.” Song Yuhuan nodded.

“There’s nothing to be afraid of. You don’t need to worry.” The maid set the tray she was carrying on the table. “Once you’ve eaten, I’ll take you out for a walk.”

“I’d like that.” Song Yuhuan said.

“I’ll come with you.”

Song Yuhuan relaxed a little. So far, she didn’t seem to have said anything wrong.

Did the other me hate school?

At the moment, everything looked like a threat. Even the pretty, tempting dessert in front of her didn’t appeal.

Still, it couldn’t be that simple. Surely they weren’t going to poison her.

“Is the dessert not to your liking?” the maid asked when Song Yuhuan didn’t touch it.

“No. I’m just annoyed about school. I don’t have much of an appetite.”

“Then I’ll ask the kitchen to make something to whet your appetite for dinner.”

“Okay.” Song Yuhuan picked up a fork, scooped up a bite, and put it in her mouth. She paused.

It was surprisingly good. The cake was rich and fragrant, and the cream wasn’t too sweet but had plenty of flavor. Song Yuhuan took another bite, then set her fork down, remembering she’d just said she had no appetite.

“Let’s go for a walk.” She stood.

“It’s chilly outside. I’ll get you a coat.”

“All right.” Song Yuhuan nodded primly and headed for the door. She glanced at the well-behaved maid from the corner of her eye, opened the door, and stopped.

Directly across from it hung a huge, life-size portrait. It seemed to be of her. In the painting, she wore a red dress and sat among red roses, gazing straight ahead. Her smile was elegant, but the longer Song Yuhuan looked, the more stiff it seemed.

The moment she opened the door, she met the painted girl’s gaze and jumped.

After years of being startled by things, she’d learned to respond with silence.

But there was something else to worry about.

The hallway outside stretched a long way. Which direction was she supposed to go?