It was nearly midnight when I discovered it—an old, dust-covered ledger hidden behind a false panel in my father's study.
The study was off-limits, but I'd memorized the access code weeks ago, purely out of habit—Xiao Xinya had always been curious. But now? Now it was a necessity.
With trembling fingers, I opened the faded leather-bound book. It didn't look like much—pages stained with age, handwritten in tight, slanted ink—but the contents made my heart skip a beat.
Transactions. Hidden accounts. Shell companies. Names.
Some crossed out, others circled.
And at the center of it all, one name stood out in red ink.
Xiao Lian.
I sat down heavily.
Xiao Lian… my uncle. My father's younger brother. The family's golden diplomat. Always smiling. Always charming. Never involved in business decisions—but always present.
Always watching.
I flipped to a folded note paper-clipped to the back of the ledger.
"If anything happens to me, this man cannot be trusted. Protect Xinya. Do not let her fall into his hands."—Father.
The world tilted for a moment.
My father had known. He'd known his brother was plotting something—but hadn't acted publicly. Why? Was he protecting me? The company? Himself?
Or maybe… he was waiting for proof.
Well, now I had it.
But I also had a problem: I couldn't use this evidence carelessly. Xiao Lian wasn't just powerful—he was dangerous. One wrong move, and I wouldn't be in a story anymore.
I'd be in a trap.
The next morning, the house felt different.
Lighter, somehow. Like a predator was hiding behind polite smiles.
At breakfast, I sat across from Xiao Lian himself. He smiled warmly at me, sipping tea like he didn't have a price on my father's life.
"Xinya, you look radiant today," he said, his tone smooth as silk. "I'm glad you're recovering well."
I met his eyes and forced a smile. "Thank you, Uncle Lian. I've been thinking a lot lately."
"Oh? About what?"
"About how family is everything," I said calmly, buttering my toast. "And how sometimes... those closest to us hide the deepest secrets."
His hand paused midair—just for a second—but it was enough.
Then the smile returned. "You're becoming quite philosophical."
"Am I?" I asked sweetly. "I guess nearly dying will do that to a person."
After breakfast, I texted Li Ziyang.
Me: I found something. Meet me at the old greenhouse. No one can know.
His reply was instant.
Ziyang: On my way.
By the time he arrived, I had already scanned the ledger and hidden the original in a locked drawer beneath floorboards in my room. I wasn't going to make the rookie mistake of putting all my hope in one place.
I handed him the flash drive.
He studied me. "You found this in your father's study?"
I nodded. "He knew. About Xiao Lian. Everything."
Ziyang's expression was hard. "Then this isn't just a family feud. It's a cold war."
"And I'm in the middle of it," I said quietly.
"No," he replied, stepping closer. "You're not in the middle of it—you're about to end it."
His confidence startled me. But maybe that's why I called him. Because I needed someone who believed I could handle this—even when I wasn't sure I could.
That night, I stood alone in my room, watching the stars.
This was no longer a story about mistaken identity. It wasn't just about soul-switching or time travel.
This was my life now. And the villain wasn't a cliché rival or the typical mean girl.
It was blood. It was family. It was betrayal in its purest form.
And the final chapter… was mine to write.