The first sign that something was wrong came when Li Yue felt calm.
That was unusual.
Her days had been spent in a state of constant tension, fear, and confusion. She barely understood this world, its people, its strange glowing devices.
And yet, suddenly—peace.
The noise of the city, the relentless storm of unfamiliar sights and sounds, was gone.
She stood in a field of golden grass, swaying gently under a soft breeze. The air smelled of jasmine, rich and familiar, and a moon hung low in the sky—a moon she recognized.
Her world's moon.
Li Yue's breath caught.
"This is not reality."
She turned, scanning her surroundings.
Then she saw her.
A woman stood a few feet away, staring at her.
She was dressed oddly, in the clothes of this strange world—dark pants, a loose white shirt—but her face was familiar.
Li Yue had seen it before.
In mirrors. In reflections. In the body she now wore.
Her own heart thundered in her chest.
Because the woman standing before her was herself.
Or rather—the one who truly belonged to this body.
Song Rui.
For a long moment, neither of them spoke.
Li Yue studied her carefully.
She had imagined, in some distant, desperate thought, that Song Rui would be terrifying. That she would be furious, screaming, demanding her body back.
But she wasn't.
She only stared, her dark eyes searching, as if trying to confirm what was real.
Finally, Song Rui spoke.
"…Who are you?"
Li Yue exhaled slowly.
So she doesn't know yet.
She had suspected it. Had feared that she had stolen this body, this life, while the real Song Rui had been lost, or worse—dead.
But if they were both here…
If they could speak…
She clenched her hands.
Then there was still a chance.
She took a step forward.
"My name is Li Yue."
Song Rui frowned.
"Li Yue," she repeated, testing the name. Then, quieter, "That's not my name."
"No," Li Yue agreed, "it isn't."
Song Rui's brows furrowed.
"But… that's my body."
Li Yue nodded.
It was better, to be honest.
Song Rui's face tensed, emotions flickering rapidly—confusion, doubt, fear.
Then, something sharper.
Realization.
"…You're not supposed to be here," she whispered.
Li Yue's breath hitched.
And just like that—the weight of it all came crashing down.
"I know," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "But I don't know how to leave."
Silence stretched between them.
The wind rustled through the grass, whispering like unseen voices.
Then Song Rui moved, crossing the space between them.
Her steps were slow, and careful, as if approaching something dangerous.
When she was close enough, she raised a hand—and without hesitation, touched Li Yue's arm.
A jolt of cold shot through her.
The field around them shuddered.
Suddenly, the golden grass darkened, fading into gray ash.
The moon overhead flickered, dimming.
And behind Song Rui—a shadow moved.
Li Yue's breath caught.
The shadow wasn't human.
It loomed tall and thin, its body shifting and writhing as if struggling to hold its shape.
It had no face.
But Li Yue still knew what it was.
Song Rui must have seen it too, because she stiffened.
The dream had changed.
And now, something else was here.
Something watching.
A sudden rush of images slammed into Li Yue's mind.
Flashes.
A man's voice shouting. A crowd of people swarming with cameras, screaming a name—Song Rui's name.
Papers are thrown across a table. A familiar face—Lin Cheng.
Li Yue flinched.
They weren't her memories.
They belonged to Song Rui.
And yet, she could feel them. See them.
Song Rui gasped, staggering back.
Her eyes went wide, locking onto Li Yue's.
"You—" she whispered.
She was feeling it too.
Li Yue barely had time to react before the images came again.
This time, they weren't of Song Rui's life.
They were Li Yue's.
A palace in flames. A blade at her throat. A trusted knight betraying her.
Lin Cheng's face, was cold and distant.
And then—poison searing through her veins.
She had died.
Hadn't she?
Song Rui let out a sharp breath, pressing a hand to her temple as if in pain.
She looked at Li Yue in horror.
"I saw…" She swallowed. "That wasn't my memory."
Li Yue's fingers curled into her palms.
"No," she said quietly. "It wasn't."
Song Rui's breath was ragged.
"…What the hell is happening to us?"
Li Yue inhaled deeply.
She had been thinking about it, over and over, ever since she woke up in this body.
The pieces didn't fit perfectly.
But one thing was clear.
Something had forced them together.
Something had torn them from their rightful places.
And now, it was showing them pieces of each other's pasts.
Why?
She wasn't sure.
But she knew one thing for certain.
"There is a connection between us," Li Yue said.
Song Rui was still breathing hard as if her mind was trying to reject the
truth.
But finally, she nodded.
"Yeah," she said hoarsely. "There is."
She lifted her gaze, locking eyes with Li Yue.
"You took my body," she said.
Li Yue didn't flinch.
"But I didn't mean to," she answered.
Another silence.
Then, slowly, Song Rui let out a bitter laugh.
"Great. So we're both victims," she muttered.
Li Yue hesitated.
She wasn't sure if she could call herself that.
Not when Song Rui was the one truly displaced.
Not when she was the one walking in a life that wasn't hers.
She looked down at her hands.
Song Rui's hands.
"…What do we do?" Song Rui asked.
Li Yue met her gaze.
"I don't know yet," she admitted. "But if this is the only way we can speak—"
Song Rui exhaled sharply.
"Then we'll have to use it."
For now, at least.
The wind began to shift.
The gray sky darkened, the world around them trembling.
The dream was ending.
Song Rui looked around, her jaw tightening.
She took a step forward—as if she wanted to say something.
But before she could—
Everything vanished.
Li Yue woke with a sharp gasp.
Darkness greeted her.
She was back.
Still in this foreign world.
Still in this borrowed body.
She pressed a hand against her racing heart.
And in that moment, she knew.
This was only the beginning.