The cemetery behind the Mo ancestral estate was hidden from the public eye — overgrown with ivy and encircled by rusted wrought-iron fences that hadn't been touched in years.
Ruoxi and Zeyan stood before the weather-worn gravestone marked:
Mo LinyueBeloved Daughter. Lost to the Flames.Date of Death: 12 Years Ago
The grave felt cold, untouched by time or memory.
"Why are we here?" Ruoxi asked, rubbing her arms.
Zeyan didn't speak. He nodded to the two silent men behind him — ex-military, loyal only to him. One began digging with a small spade. The other watched the perimeter.
Ruoxi's chest grew tight with each scrape of earth.
When the coffin was unearthed and cracked open… she recoiled.
Inside was nothing but ashes.
No bones. No fragments. No body.
Just fine white ash, neatly placed inside a silk-lined casket.
Zeyan knelt.
His expression was unreadable, but his knuckles were white as he gripped the coffin's edge.
"This isn't a grave," he said slowly. "It's a story someone wanted buried."
Ruoxi took a shaky step forward. "So… Linyue's not in here?"
"She never was," he said. "Someone faked the burial."
Ruoxi's pulse pounded. "Then where's the real body?"
Zeyan looked up at her, and for the first time since she'd met him, his eyes were filled not with arrogance, but fury.
"That's what I intend to find out."
Later that evening…
Back in the mansion, Ruoxi sat beside Zeyan in the private medical lab.
He pulled up the DNA report he had rushed after finding the old photo — one of her and Linyue together, despite her supposed birth happening after the fire.
The screen glowed blue as the file opened.
DNA Comparison: Mo Ruoxi | Mo LinyueResult: 99.92% Match – Monozygotic Twins
Ruoxi exhaled sharply.
Zeyan continued.
DNA Comparison: Mo Qinghua (Mother) | Mo Ruoxi & Mo LinyueResult: Partial Match — Maternity Inconclusive
DNA Comparison: Mo Jianfeng (Father) | Mo Ruoxi & Mo LinyueResult: Negative
Zeyan stared at the last line.
"No match," he muttered. "They weren't my father's daughters."
Ruoxi's voice cracked. "Then whose were we?"
He turned to her slowly.
"This… goes deeper than any of us thought. If you and Linyue aren't biologically related to the Mo family—"
"—then someone planted us here," Ruoxi finished.
"Used as pawns," Zeyan whispered. "Brought into the family for a reason. Maybe to replace a real heir. Or… maybe to silence another."
Ruoxi's mind reeled. "Why fake an entire bloodline?"
Zeyan tapped the keyboard. "Money. Power. Control. Or something worse."
That night…
Ruoxi couldn't sleep.
She wandered the dim halls of the Mo estate, trailing her fingers along the cold marble banister. Every portrait she passed seemed to watch her — eyes painted in oils a generation too old.
She found herself back in the north wing again.
The velvet rope had been cut.
And on the mirror in the hallway… something new had appeared.
A message.
Written in ashes.
One of you was never meant to live.
Her heart thundered.
"Which one?" she whispered.
At the same time…
Zeyan stood in front of his father's sealed study.
He'd avoided this room for years.
Mo Jianfeng had been a cruel man in life — obsessed with legacy, public image, and obedience. He died mysteriously six years ago, in a car accident no one dared investigate.
Zeyan entered the office, switched on the lamp, and walked straight to the filing cabinet behind the bookshelf. The biometric scanner blinked red—then turned green.
Inside were stacks of old documents, contracts, medical files.
He found one labeled "Project Twin Flame."
Inside were embryo records.
Dates: 12.5 years ago.
Two female embryos.
Donor: Unknown.
Surrogate: Mo Qinghua.
Zeyan's fingers turned cold.
"This wasn't a natural pregnancy…"
His gaze scanned the margin notes.
One scrawled sentence caught his eye:
"Only one will survive. Control the mind, control the legacy."
He stepped back, horrified.
"Ruoxi and Linyue… weren't just born. They were engineered."
Back in her room…
Ruoxi stared into the mirror.
Her reflection looked back, pale and afraid.
Then, in the glass — a flicker.
For a second, she saw another girl behind her.
Not her.
Linyue.
Or someone who wore her face.
Then the mirror cracked.