The rain had stopped by morning, but the storm hadn't left Aurora.
She stood by the full-length mirror in the guest chamber of Sebastian Xu's estate, dressed in a simple white hanfu robe. Her fingers traced the edge of the jade ring that now hung from a red thread around her neck. It no longer felt foreign. It felt like armor.
In this life—or any other—trust had always been her downfall.
The memories from the tea vision had unsettled her, but it was the name "Lin Qingli" that stuck like a thorn in her mind. She hadn't imagined that red-robed queen. She had been her.
And betrayal had followed her here too.
She remembered everything from the night of her death in this life—how the text message from Vincent had lured her to the bridge. A supposed apology. A promise to explain.
Only to find her stepsister Eva waiting instead.
"Do you really think you're loved, Aurora? You're just a stepping stone," Eva had said coldly, her words like poison honey. "Always were."
Aurora clenched her jaw. The same Eva Lin now played the perfect grieving sister in the media, crocodile tears painted across social pages, claiming her sister had disappeared due to mental health issues.
And Vincent? He was already seen with Eva at a high-society event just last night.
Sebastian entered the room without knocking. He didn't need to.
"You're leaving," he stated, rather than asked.
Aurora turned to him, eyes sharp. "I'm going to the Lin family estate. I need to see it with these new eyes."
He stepped forward, placing a slim phone in her palm.
"Use this instead of your old one. The authorities and your enemies are likely tracking the signal."
Her brows lifted. "So you believe someone tried to kill me?"
"I don't believe in accidental explosions," he replied flatly.
She slipped the phone into the folds of her robe. "Then it's time I reminded Eva Lin that I don't stay dead."
Sebastian watched her for a moment, something unreadable in his gaze. "If you go there, you should know—your stepsister has already moved into your bedroom. Your father is abroad. The staff have been paid off."
"I'm aware," Aurora said. "She's always wanted what I had. But it was never enough for her to copy me. She wanted me gone."
He hesitated, then handed her a black velvet pouch. Inside, she found a small brass vial.
"What is it?" she asked.
"Tea leaves," he replied. "Old ones. Cursed ones, if you believe the folklore. She's been brewing them for you for weeks. To 'help you sleep.'"
Aurora's spine straightened. She'd always trusted Eva's tea. After all, they'd grown up drinking it together. How poetic that the poison had been in comfort itself.
Her voice turned steel. "She tried to kill me slowly. How sweet."
Sebastian said nothing. He didn't need to.
Aurora tied her hair into a high knot, added blood-red lipstick, and slipped on dark sunglasses.
Today, the dead would walk into the lion's den wearing silk—and smiling.