••meddling with my second chance••

Chapter 1: The Crimson Lotus Awakens

Chapter 1: The Crimson Lotus Awakens

Lin Yueyin huddled on the park bench, the thin fabric of her worn-out coat doing little to shield her from the biting autumn wind. She pulled her knees to her chest, trying to make herself as small as possible, her teeth chattering as the chill seeped deeper into her bones. It had been days since she was forced to leave home—if she could even call it that. Her stepmother had finally had enough of her presence and tossed her out, her cold words still echoing in Yueyin’s mind: “I don’t need another mouth to feed. Go find your own way.”

With no family, no place to go, and barely enough money to last more than a few days, Yueyin had wandered aimlessly, hoping for some miracle, some escape from the hopelessness that clung to her like the frigid air. Now, alone under a dark sky, she sat by the riverside, clutching the only thing that had ever brought her comfort: a battered copy of her favorite novel, The Tragic Song of the Crimson Lotus.

The novel’s pages were worn and dog-eared from countless readings, each line etched into her memory. The story followed Li Mingzhu, a woman reviled as a villainess in an ancient court, her life a tale of power struggles, betrayal, and unending loneliness. Mingzhu had always seemed misunderstood to Yueyin—a character forced to become ruthless in a world that never gave her a chance.

Yueyin closed her eyes, exhaling a shaky breath, her heart heavy with sorrow. She whispered to the empty night, “If I were her… I’d do things differently. I’d find a way to survive, to be seen for who I truly am.” Her words trailed off, swallowed by the chill in the air. A wistful smile touched her lips as she imagined a life where she could start anew, where strength could be her shield against a world that had cast her aside.

The wind seemed to shift suddenly, growing still and almost reverent. A strange energy tingled around her, as if the night itself were holding its breath. Yueyin blinked, feeling her body grow inexplicably heavy. Her vision blurred, and the darkness around her seemed to deepen, pulling her into its depths like an unseen force.

As her senses faded, a bright light engulfed her. The world around her melted away, and for a moment, it felt as though she were floating in a vast, endless ocean, sinking deeper and deeper into warmth that numbed the coldness in her soul.

When her eyes fluttered open, Yueyin found herself lying on something soft and fragrant. Silk sheets rustled beneath her fingers, cool and smooth, an impossible contrast to the harsh world she’d just left. She pushed herself up, disoriented, her gaze settling on the opulent surroundings. Overhead, a canopy of embroidered silk, decorated with crimson lotuses and delicate golden threads, framed the bed. The air was thick with a mixture of sandalwood and faint floral incense, a scent foreign yet strangely familiar.

Her heart raced as she took in the lavish furnishings around her—a low table carved from dark wood, adorned with porcelain vases filled with plum blossoms; painted folding screens depicting graceful cranes in flight; and a polished bronze mirror across the room, glinting in the dim light of nearby oil lamps.

Yueyin looked down at herself, at the intricate crimson robes draped over her body, embroidered with gold threads that shimmered in the lamplight. Her hair, normally unkempt and windblown, was now arranged in a complex style, adorned with delicate silver pins and tiny rubies that sparkled like droplets of blood. Her fingers traced her cheeks, feeling the softness of powdered skin, the unfamiliar elegance of a face she barely recognized.

A sick realization took root in her mind. She wasn’t herself—no, she wasn’t even in her own world.

Her breath caught as her eyes drifted back to the mirror. Staring back at her was not Lin Yueyin, the homeless girl cast aside by her family, but Li Mingzhu, the cold-hearted villainess from her favorite novel. The very character she had pitied and admired, trapped in a tale of unrelenting tragedy.

Before she could fully process this, a soft knock echoed from the other side of the room. The door slid open, and a young maid stepped inside, her head bowed respectfully. She wore a plain robe, her posture submissive, as if the mere act of looking up would be an offense.

“Your Grace,” the maid murmured, her voice trembling with a practiced reverence. “The Empress has summoned you to the palace.”

Yueyin’s pulse quickened. The Empress—the cunning woman who saw Li Mingzhu as nothing more than a rival to eliminate. In the novel, the Empress had been one of Mingzhu’s greatest enemies, her machinations setting in motion the events that would lead to the villainess’s ruin.

The memory sent a chill through her, and she fought to keep her voice steady as she replied, “Very well. Tell her I’ll be ready shortly.” Her words slipped out with a surprising firmness, echoing with the sharpness that Li Mingzhu was known for.

The maid bowed deeply and exited, leaving Yueyin alone once more in the silence of the ornate room. Her hands clenched into fists, her heart racing as she tried to comprehend the weight of her new reality. She wasn’t merely a spectator in this story anymore; she was living it, with all its dangers and heartaches, trapped in the body of a woman destined for ruin.

But maybe… just maybe, this was her second chance—a chance to rewrite the life of a woman who had been dealt a cruel hand. She didn’t have to be the villainess they feared. She could use her knowledge of the story, her memories of the character, to navigate the treacherous waters of the imperial court.

Steeling herself, she took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the elaborate robes settle around her. This world was different, harsher, but it was hers to survive, to reshape, if she could muster the strength and wits.

As she rose to her feet, the dim glow of the lamps casting her shadow long across the floor, she felt a fierce determination take hold. Li Mingzhu had always been seen as a threat—a blade unsheathed, a rose with thorns. Perhaps, this time, Yueyin would be that blade, not to harm but to protect herself, to forge a path toward redemption.

With one last look around the unfamiliar room, she straightened her shoulders and stepped forward, preparing to face the twisted game of survival that awaited her in the palace.

[End of Chapter 1]

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