"Xi—Yao—"
At that moment, she heard Qi Yan call her name from behind, his voice torn with longing, sending a sharp pang through her chest.
But when she opened her eyes again, the world was shrouded in thick mist.
"Ugh… how did I… cough… get stuffed back into the womb?"
Xi Yao struggled to open her eyes, her blurred vision fixed on the gauzy canopy above her. The scent of aged sandalwood filled the air—unmistakably ancient. As she flexed her fingers, she felt the thin fabric of her undergarments—flimsy as paper, clearly not modern craftsmanship.
Her first thought wasn't "Where am I?" but rather: "I'm wearing so little—Qi Yan, don't you dare try anything."
Good news: there was no man beside her.
Bad news: one was walking in through the door.
"Young Miss, you're awake!" A maidservant rushed to the bedside, deftly helping her sit up.
"What 'Young Miss'?"
"Miss Xie Yao, of course," the maid said it as if it were obvious. "Yesterday, you fell into the lake and were rescued by the Marquis. Now you're his betrothed!"
Xi Yao: "..."
Who am I? Where am I? Why have I suddenly become some delicate noblewoman fished out of a lake?
Mirror Spirit's voice drifted into her mind: "Trial 'White Moonlight Stand-In Arc' officially begins. Character setting: Xie Yao, third daughter of the General's Manor, gentle in temperament, bearing an 80% resemblance to Shen Ruxue. Currently the fiancée of Marquis Xie Heng—in truth, a stand-in. Mission objective: Find the divine heart fragment and awaken the source of obsession."
"Xie Heng?" Her heart lurched.
"Yes," Mirror Spirit added with ill intent. "The male lead of this trial. A certified madman, memory lost, emotions sustained only by obsession. Good luck."
Xi Yao: …
This isn't luck—it's poison!
---
The Xie Manor was vast—so vast that taking a wrong turn could leave one lost for hours.
Xi Yao followed the maid to the flower hall, where a gathering of noblewomen eyed her with thinly veiled disdain. The moment she took her seat, a chilly voice remarked:
"I heard Miss Xie Yao clung to the Marquis' sleeve even as she drowned. Tsk, much bolder than Sister Shen ever was."
Xi Yao paused mid-sip of tea, then set the cup down with a sweet smile. "Of course. The Marquis' face is steadier than driftwood—why wouldn't I hold on for dear life?"
The crowd: "..."
Another voice cut in, equally frosty: "They say in the three days since you entered the Xie household, the Marquis hasn't spoken a word to you. Is this engagement one-sided?"
Xi Yao: "Oh? I thought the Xie family was marrying me, not conversation."
Another stunned silence.
She sipped her tea, unbothered. Hah! I've survived divine battles and soul-shattering calamities—you think I'm scared of a bunch of scheming noblewomen? Bring it on!
No sooner had the thought crossed her mind than a cold, commanding voice cut through the hall.
"Enough."
The room fell deathly quiet.
Xi Yao turned to see a tall figure stride in from the sunlight. The man wore deep indigo robes, a jade belt cinching his waist, his features so sharply cold he might have been carved from ice. His gaze was frost-laden, piercing enough to make one flinch.
Qi Yan—no, Xie Heng.
It was the same face, yet colder than she remembered—even… unhinged.
He took his seat at the head of the table, his eyes sweeping past Xi Yao as if she were nothing but air.
Xi Yao seethed internally: Fine then, Marquis Madman. You wanna play pretend? Let's see who breaks first!
---
After the meal, the guests dispersed, and Xi Yao was summoned to the rear courtyard's winding corridor. There, she came face-to-face with Xie Heng's glacial expression.
"Xie Yao?" His voice was low, laced with disdain.
"Hm?" She blinked up at him, the picture of innocence. "Did the Marquis need something?"
Xie Heng sneered. "Drop the act. You're not her."
She tilted her head, smiling. "Then who am I?"
His gaze sharpened like an arrow aimed straight through her façade. Leaning in, he hissed, "You can mimic her smile, her voice—but you'll never replicate her eyes."
Xi Yao resisted the urge to roll hers. Buddy, if you're sick, go see a doctor—don't take it out on my eyeballs!
"Shen Ruxue is dead," Xie Heng murmured. "At best, you're a shadow. Don't delude yourself into thinking you can replace her."
Xi Yao finally cracked, her lips quirking. "...Qi Yan? You really don't remember me?"
A flicker of something crossed his eyes, but it vanished as quickly as it came. "What nonsense are you spouting?"
She studied him, searching for even a glimmer of recognition. There was none.
"What a…" She sighed, stepping back with a smile. "Pity."
Xie Heng's brow furrowed slightly, but he said nothing.
As she walked away, she cursed inwardly: Madman. Arrogant. Heartless… Just you wait. Today, I'm your stand-in—tomorrow, you'll be the one haunted by me!
Mirror Spirit: "You're starting to sound like the villainess."
Xi Yao: "Shut up. This is psychological warfare."
---
Late that night, Xie Heng sat in his study, flipping through an old book of poetry—Shen Ruxue's handwritten collection, her delicate script brimming with tenderness.
Yet as he turned the pages, his expression grew distant.
The voice echoing in his mind wasn't Shen Ruxue's.
It was hers: "The Marquis' face is steadier than driftwood—of course I'd cling for my life!"
Xie Heng pressed a hand to his temple, fingers trembling.
"Whose voice… is this?"
He whispered the question, but no answer came.
---
Meanwhile, Xi Yao lay bundled in blankets, staring bored at the ceiling.
"Madman. Tyrant. Obsessed with a dead woman, blind to the living…
...Classic Qi Yan move."
She exhaled softly, then abruptly sat up.
"Fine. A stand-in it is. Let's see how long your obsession lasts."
A sly grin curled her lips, mischief glinting in her eyes.
"Starting tomorrow, this Young Miss is diving into the plot—playing the white moonlight, acting the stand-in, gathering intel… and along the way—"
Her smile sharpened.
"—prying Qi Yan's soul right out of this madman's grip."