Chapter 7

Song Yuhuan went back to change. Since she was home, there was no reason to go back to school that afternoon.

She stood in front of the mirror, splashed water on her face, and stared at her reflection. Then she tried to smile.

No matter how hard she tried, she still looked grim.

Song Yuhuan rubbed her face and forced herself to calm down, to relax.

Twenty minutes later, she came out of the bathroom looking composed again.

Perhaps because she’d startled Song Yuhuan last time, the maid wasn’t waiting outside the bathroom door. She was standing outside the bedroom instead.

Song Yuhuan opened the door and met her eyes.

She suddenly realized her social circle was far too small. So far, she’d barely spoken to anyone besides the maid.

That might seem to lower the risk—she only had to make sure the maid didn’t discover she was acting strangely to stay alive.

But if the maid was the problem, she was done for.

And she couldn’t think of a way to break the deadlock.

Without any memories, everything was difficult. Most of the people she could get close to had already known her before.

To be honest, she was surprised—and uneasy—that no one had noticed anything strange about her yet.

Was the original me really that withdrawn?

Song Yuhuan walked around the maid and headed downstairs.

She had no idea what kept the servants so busy on the first floor. Every time she came down, they were polishing something. Everything gleamed like a mirror.

Wow, is that gold on the cabinet?

The other objects might have been valuable, too, but Song Yuhuan was a philistine. She couldn’t tell what porcelain or wood carvings were worth. Her attention only snagged on the golden potted plant. She couldn’t tell if it was gold-plated or solid gold.

Song Yuhuan sat on the sofa, looked away from it, and watched a servant walking by. “Bring me some fruit.”

The servant paused. Song Yuhuan noticed her glance toward the maid.

“I’ll get it,” the maid said with a smile. “Would you like anything besides fruit?”

“No.” Song Yuhuan pressed her lips together and leaned back against the sofa. She watched the rose garden outside for a while, then stood and went out.

Song Yuhuan looked up at the third floor from the garden.

There were definitely windows up there, even though she couldn’t see what was behind them.

If only I had a drone.

Or a mage… Why couldn’t she use magic?

Song Yuhuan frowned slightly and looked at the balcony on the second floor. In her mind, she mapped a route from the balcony to the third floor.

She realized what she was thinking and sucked in a breath, eyes widening.

She was getting ahead of herself.

In university, she ran eight hundred meters in four and a half minutes. Whenever she saw parkour videos online, she envied people who were so fit. But she was too lazy to exercise. She’d bought a pile of workout gear and never left the house.

Still… was this body even her body?

Song Yuhuan looked down at her hands.

Maybe this body was in great shape.

I’ll try tonight.

She had to try. If she couldn’t do it, she couldn’t do it.

If her physical condition here was affected by her real one, she’d get serious about working out after she got back.

“Miss.” The maid came out. “Would you like to have your fruit in the garden?”

Song Yuhuan put aside her jumble of thoughts at the sound of her voice.

“Sure.” She nodded and went to sit in the glass conservatory, waiting for the maid to bring the fruit plate over.

The maid had prepared plenty of fruit, all sorts of bright colors arranged neatly on the plate. It was a soothing sight for anyone with a perfectionist streak.

Though Song Yuhuan had only asked for fruit, the maid had brought dessert as well. The bite-sized treats were arranged on a two-tier stand, with tea to go alongside them. Song Yuhuan felt as if she were having afternoon tea like a proper aristocrat.

“I feel like milk tea today.” She glanced at the black tea in her cup, politely declining.

“All right.”

The maid took the cup away without asking questions.

Song Yuhuan watched her go, frowning slightly, and speared a piece of orange with her fork.

…

Song Yuhuan was curious about when she’d get to see how the boy was dealt with, but she didn’t want to rush the maid. It wasn’t until after dinner, when it was completely dark, that the maid brought her a black cloak.

Song Yuhuan looked at the maid. She wore a cloak, too, and had changed into long sleeves and pants that looked easier to move in. It was the first time Song Yuhuan had seen her in anything other than her maid’s uniform.

Song Yuhuan looked away and nervously tugged at her cloak. She let the maid pull the hood over her head.

She silently took a careful, shallow breath, then followed the maid out.