The moonlight poured into my room like silver ink, casting shadows that danced against the ornate walls. I couldn't sleep.
Li Suna's words kept echoing in my mind:"The original plot shattered the moment you woke up.""Now we're writing a new one."
What did she mean? How could she know?
My thoughts churned, but somewhere deep inside, I knew I needed answers—and not just from the Xiao family archives or financial records. I needed to understand her.
The next morning, I made a call.
"Track down someone named Li Suna. I want to know where she lives, where she works, who she talks to—everything. Quietly."The private investigator on the other end replied, "Understood, Miss Xiao."
A part of me felt guilty. I wasn't sure if Li Suna was friend or foe—but the truth was, she wasn't just a character anymore. She was a wild card in a story that was no longer following the script.
Meanwhile...
Li Suna's Apartment – Outskirts of Capital City
The room was cramped but clean. Stacks of worn books filled a single shelf, while a corkboard on the wall had photos pinned across it—people, dates, events—connected by red thread.
At the center was a photo of Xiao Xinya.
Suna sat cross-legged on her couch, flipping through a familiar-looking notebook—the exact novel we both had read: Reborn of the Vicious Heiress.
But this copy wasn't just a printed book. Her pages were filled with notes in the margins. Corrections. Questions. Arrows pointing at inconsistencies.
She murmured to herself, "The original Xinya should've had her accident in chapter five. But it never happened. The party… the poisoning… all gone."
She flipped further. "And Ziyang—he's already interacting with her. That wasn't supposed to happen until volume two."
Her eyes landed on a sticky note.
"If she changed the timeline, can I still trigger the ending?"
Li Suna exhaled, pressing a hand to her chest. "I don't know who you are," she whispered, "but you're not Xiao Xinya. And I'm not Li Suna."
Back at the Xiao Estate
I stood in the east wing garden again, trying to piece things together. More memories of the real Xiao Xinya were surfacing—her diary entries, her quiet grief after her mother's death, her love for classical piano.
I wasn't just living her life now—I was becoming her.
And that scared me.
But it also made me stronger.
"Miss," the investigator called me later that afternoon. "We've found her."
"She lives alone. Works part-time at a tech company. No close family. Keeps to herself. But…" he hesitated.
"But what?" I pressed.
"She visits the central library every Thursday. Same section. Fantasy and metaphysics. We followed her last time—she wasn't reading fiction. She was taking notes… on dimensional theory."
My heart skipped a beat.
She knew. She wasn't just guessing.
This wasn't just a novel anymore. This was a convergence of souls, a fracture between worlds.
That night, I stood outside the library, waiting in the shadows as people streamed in and out. And then I saw her.
Li Suna.
Same cool expression. Same quiet grace.
She noticed me almost instantly. Her eyes flickered in recognition. "You followed me."
"I had to," I said. "You know too much."
She looked at me for a long moment. Then… she smiled.
"Good," she said softly. "It's about time we talk."