Her name was Xin Tian—not the sugary-sweet "Tian" she'd expected.
Good thing too. Otherwise, she really would have felt sick from the saccharine overload.
After a few days in the hospital, Tina noticed how strapped for cash Xin Tian's family was and immediately asked the doctor to discharge her.
She watched as Xin Tian's mother paid at the hospital's cashier window. Nearly fifty, she was still graceful and elegant despite her simple clothing. Clearly, she'd once been a government official's wife.
With a bright look in her eyes, Xin Tian's mother said excitedly, "Tian Tian, someone already paid your hospital bills. Was it your boss?"
Tina doubted it. Suicide wasn't covered under work-related injury benefits, and Luo Qunhang—that ruthless capitalist—couldn't possibly have such a kind heart. Still, she didn't know enough about Xin Tian's situation to be certain.
Was this where she lived?
Tina followed Xin Tian's mother for several bus stops, walked another few hundred meters, and arrived at a dilapidated apartment building hidden behind the glitz of the city center.
The building—a relic from a bygone era—reminded Tina that not all parts of the city were as shiny as those seen in promotional videos. This kind of place marked a sharp line between rich and poor in urban life.
The building's stairwell was littered with unswept fruit peels, releasing their own pungent stench in the heat. In the narrow, overcrowded space, tenants who couldn't fit their belongings inside had stacked them in the hallway in chaotic piles. Standing at the building's entrance, one could see everything in plain view.
As they climbed the stairs, two greasy-looking young men passed by, whistling loudly as they walked past.
Tina instinctively drew in a sharp breath.
She followed Xin Tian's mother into the apartment. Unsurprisingly, it was neat, cozy, and decorated with a girl's careful, loving touch. But Tina's sharp eyes quickly noticed: the single bed was only semi-new, and the plastic wardrobe was already sagging under the weight of its contents.
And most importantly, there was only one bed.
She looked up and asked, "Where will you sleep?"
She used the formal "you," not "mom."
Xin Tian's mother didn't notice the distinction. She simply thought her daughter had forgotten many things. While tidying up, she said, "Tian Tian, I took time off work to stay with you in the hospital. I work as a nanny for Mr. Fu's family. Now that you're discharged, I need to get back to work."
Tina stared, mouth agape. She stepped forward and took the woman's hand—it was rough and calloused from years of hard work.
If Xin Tian's family had once been part of the political elite, her mother must have lived in comfort. But now she was working as a domestic helper. Yet despite the change in status, she showed no resentment—only tireless love and dedication for her children.
Tina was struck by how resilient Chinese women could be. Like blades of hardy grass, they may seem flattened by hardship, but their roots always held strong. After surviving frost and flame, they would still rise green and vibrant when spring came.
She might not be able to accept this woman as her "mother," but Tina deeply respected her.
She stroked a few strands of silver from her hair and said, "You're still young. Find time to dye your hair."
Xin Tian's mother was touched. Since her daughter woke up, this was the first time she'd shown such tenderness.
She handed over 1,000 yuan in returned hospital deposits and said, "Tian Tian, take this money. Buy something nutritious—you've just gotten out of the hospital."
Tina pushed her hand away firmly. She already felt guilty enough for taking over Xin Tian's body—how could she take money the woman had scrimped and saved?
Xin Tian's mother looked surprised by the strength of her reaction.
"I still have money in my account. You keep it," Tina said.
The woman hesitated.
Tina flashed a confident smile, the kind she used to charm clients as a sales director. "I've got plenty. Trust me."
Eventually, Xin Tian's mother agreed and only handed over a single 100 yuan note. "It's a hassle to withdraw cash. Keep this for now. I'll return the rest to Mr. Fu—we can't owe him so many favors."
Tina accepted it.
That night, she stayed in Xin Tian's room. Around midnight, a drunk man reeking of alcohol came pounding on her door. None of the neighbors responded—whether because they were used to it or just didn't care, she didn't know.
Tina sat bolt upright and cursed, grabbing a broom to defend herself. The drunk, startled by her fierce shouting, quietly slinked away.
Sleep was no longer an option.
She wasn't Xin Tian. She was Tina. She had to return to her own life.
It had been too late for Xin Tian's mother to return to her job earlier that day, but tomorrow, Tina would go to Luo Qunhang's company and resign. After that, she would head back to her old apartment and try to reclaim her life.
The next morning, Tina—dressed as Xin Tian—arrived at Luo Qunhang's Boying Corporation. The company wasn't large, with just over a hundred employees.
She had expected whispers and stares because of her suicide attempt.
She was wrong.
The company was preoccupied with something far more urgent: Boying had submitted a bid to supply materials for two subway construction projects. For the sake of transparency, the H City government was broadcasting the bidding process live on TV and online.
The large meeting room was filled with representatives from prequalified companies. Every bid detail—brand, specification, service requirements—was displayed on connected computers. All companies had to do was submit their prices.
Boying was bidding too. Most employees sat at their desks staring intently at their screens. The office was eerily quiet.
Tina was fascinated. Her previous company had been too small to qualify for such bids—the 600,000 yuan deposit alone would have scared her old boss to death.
Her phone rang—it was the finance department.
"Tian Tian, you might want to prep your receipts. The boss has agreed to reimburse your hospital fees."
Tina was stunned. So it wasn't Luo Qunhang who paid at the hospital?
Who else could it be?
She gave a vague response and turned back to her screen. The bid results were coming in.
Boying had lost by 200,000 yuan on a project worth over 300 million.
From the accuracy of the winning bid, Tina knew immediately—someone had leaked their internal pricing.
A man wearing a Boying badge left the room in frustration, his face grim.
Tina almost laughed. For once, karma was working properly.
So this was why she had been reborn in his company—to witness Luo Qunhang being humiliated.
He stormed into the sales manager's office. Through the glass walls, Tina could see him and the manager glancing in her direction several times.
She stood, straightened her clothes, and grabbed the resignation letter she had prepared. It was time.
She knocked on the door and walked in. "Manager Zhang, I'm here to resign." She waved her resignation letter, her eyes gleaming behind the oversized glasses.
The sales manager, dressed in a proper suit, glanced at her with a complicated expression.
Luo Qunhang, sitting where the manager should have been, stared coldly. "You can resign," he said slowly, "once the police confirm you didn't leak our company secrets."
Leak company secrets?
Tina was dumbfounded.
"Excuse me? I just came back to work this morning. You think it was me?"
She had no idea what expression to wear.
She was sure now—she and Luo Qunhang weren't just enemies in this life.
It must have been several lifetimes.