Volume One Chapter One: Starting Over

In the cramped darkness of the alley, a disheveled woman fell to the ground. Zhou Xianyu watched warily as the drunken, delirious man in front of her pressed closer. She had been forced into a corner, her heart pounding wildly.

Red handprints and dust marred her pale cheeks, blood stained the corner of her lips. She kept withdrawing, her head heavy and aching, her strength slowly ebbing away.

“Tell me... who sent you?” she forced the question through her pain.

The man’s face twisted into a vicious grin. He laughed, reeking of alcohol, as he unbuckled his belt and growled, “You should die knowing the truth. Don’t even know who’s out to get you? Isn’t it your dear sister? She paid me this much!”

Zhou Xianyu had never felt so lucid. Suddenly, all her misfortunes had a source. Her heart beat violently, the pain from her fall was nothing compared to the agony in her chest.

It was Zhou Qianqian—her beloved sister.

“Are you not afraid of prison?” Her voice was hoarse, barely squeezed from her throat as her head buzzed, but her hand instinctively reached into the purse dropped on the muddy ground.

The thug, lips thick with liquor, scoffed, “Your Zhou family’s business isn’t my concern. I take money and do the job—once I’ve got it, I’m gone. The police? Let them try to catch me...”

He rushed toward Zhou Xianyu. She faced him against the light, cold air burning her lungs. Resentment burned in her eyes, but she forced herself to remain calm.

At last, her fingertips brushed the knife blade inside her bag.

The thug lunged at her, unprepared for the sudden blade. She stabbed his palm. Furious, he screamed, “You wretched bitch!”

His drunken haze vanished, rage exploding as he snatched the knife and plunged it into Zhou Xianyu’s chest. She had no strength left, her final strike delivered only by surprise. She collapsed, the pain making her acutely aware of life slipping away.

Her hateful gaze fell nearby, blood pooling across the floor. Shimmering tears welled in her eyes—unwilling, indignant, questioning why.

She saw the light at the alley’s end, familiar figures passing by. Gentle, kind Zhou Qianqian, as everyone believed, walked arm in arm with Jiang Wenhua. From afar, they met her eyes.

Zhou Qianqian smiled lightly, her lips parting with malicious intent. “Goodbye... Sister.”

Zhou Xianyu hurt terribly, tears spilling from the corner of her eye, but she could say nothing.

It shouldn’t have ended this way...

Everything was absurd and laughable. If only she could live again...

Above her, the furious man kicked her hard several times, the noise loud enough to catch Jiang Wenhua’s attention.

He heard it.

But he showed no reaction, simply leading Zhou Qianqian away.

Zhou Xianyu slowly closed her eyes.

She was dead.

Her ridiculous life—had ended.

With a strange third-person perspective, she watched the trajectory of her growth and all she had experienced, saw how Zhou Qianqian stole everything from her step by step.

What struck her as most absurd was that Zhou Qianqian’s smooth ascent was aided all along by something called a system.

The system called Zhou Qianqian its host, and referred to her as... the original heroine?

As confusion clouded her mind, a vague mechanical voice suddenly appeared.

It told her coldly, “As you see, you live inside a book. Each book is a complete little world.”

“You were meant to be the heroine blessed by fate in this world, destined to meet, know, and love the male lead, Gu Qichuan.”

“But this book changed. Your sister Zhou Qianqian, who should have died abroad at age ten from sudden heart failure, was taken over by an unknown soul. Using her system, she seized your destiny, and both the male and female leads died. Thus, Zhou Qianqian became the book’s heroine.”

Zhou Xianyu was stunned, the overwhelming information nearly too much to process, but she quickly grasped the key point: “She’s an outsider? Her system knows everything about this world’s development?”

She murmured, “So... that’s how she always predicts my actions. Wait, you said the male and female leads died—Gu Qichuan died?”

She was shocked. Someone like Gu Qichuan—could die?

He was called a mad dog, obsessive and terrifying, with thunderous methods and unpredictable temper, shunned by all.

He was a towering, legendary figure in the capital circle, feared by countless elite families. How could someone like him die...

The mechanical voice spoke again: “He was the male lead, but because he opposed Zhou Qianqian, the book’s consciousness gradually turned him into the villain, while Jiang Wenhua, who loved Zhou Qianqian, became the new male lead.”

Zhou Xianyu was baffled. “Opposed? Why would he oppose Zhou Qianqian? Their biggest connection is me, isn’t it?”

“That’s right—it’s because of you.”

The scene before her shifted again. She watched what happened after her death: the thug dragged her body into a corner, cursing and wiping away blood, preparing to leave.

Then, the dim alley was surrounded by a group of men in black. A tall, familiar figure appeared—Gu Qichuan.

She watched the always-cold, steady man, who, upon seeing her corpse, broke down, eyes red, all composure lost. He kissed her dirty cheek, gently closed her lifeless eyes.

Like a demon descended from hell, he took the very knife that wounded her and used it to torment her killer, stabbing him again and again.

The thug sobered up, wracked by regret and terror, screaming horribly as his jaw was dislocated. Gu Qichuan, red-eyed and expressionless, cut his flesh piece by piece.

The scene was gruesome and chilling.

She listened as he cradled her corpse, whispering in a voice so low it was almost a breath, “Does it hurt? Forgive me... forgive me... I was too late...”

His brows knit tightly, his eyes closed, face pale with extreme pain. Her blood stained his white shirt, his gaze hollow and desolate.

“My... Ayu.”

Zhou Xianyu was shaken, watching Gu Qichuan carry her corpse home. He did not bury her, but crazily cleaned her wounds and filth, tenderly caressing her pallid face.

She had never imagined Gu Qichuan loved her so deeply.

Back when the Zhou family’s stock plummeted and the company teetered on the edge, he was the one who saved the Zhou Group, the only price being her marriage to him.

She thought he must have liked her.

But after they wed, Gu Qichuan remained busy, rarely home, always cold and distant, exuding an oppressive aura she couldn’t describe.

She realized, perhaps he only needed a wife for appearances—not because he loved her.

She feared him, avoided him, and her dissatisfaction with the marriage spilled over into resentment toward him.

But only now, seeing from this third perspective, did she suddenly recognize all she had deliberately ignored—his passionate, obsessive love, hidden in the shadows.