The faint scent of blood mixed with perfume filled her nose. Cold marble bit into her skin as she struggled to move. Her once-beautiful white wedding gown, delicately embroidered with pearls and lace, was now stained crimson — soaked from the wound on her abdomen and the betrayal that tore through her heart.
Liang Ruoxi blinked slowly, her vision swimming. Above her, the grand chandelier of the Mo family banquet hall sparkled mockingly. She had dreamed of this day — not the death, but the wedding. A union between two of the wealthiest families in the city, a symbol of love, power, and future security.
Instead, she lay dying.
"I told you," a soft voice murmured from above. "This dress never suited you."
Ruoxi's eyes shifted with effort. Her stepsister, Tang Yuxin, crouched beside her, dressed in a champagne evening gown that hugged her slender frame. Her face was flawless, but her eyes gleamed with cruelty.
"You…" Ruoxi croaked, blood trickling from her lips.
Tang Yuxin tilted her head like a child admiring a painting. "You always thought he loved you. That you were special."
Heavy footsteps approached. A second figure emerged, sharp in a tailored suit, his hair slicked back as always — Feng Zixuan. Her fiancé. The man she had loved for seven years.
He didn't look at her. Couldn't. His guilt flashed for a second before his features returned to stone.
"You… were working together?" Ruoxi asked, every word like glass in her throat.
Tang Yuxin leaned in, her lips brushing Ruoxi's ear. "He only ever used you to get into the Liang Group. And I… well, I used you to clear the path. You were never a real daughter to Father. Just an orphan. A tool."
A sob escaped her lips, not from pain, but devastation. She remembered the nights she stayed up late helping her father draft proposals. The way she turned down scholarships abroad just to stay by his side. She had fought for this family like it was her lifeline. And they had discarded her like trash.
"I trusted… all of you..."
Tang Yuxin smirked. "And we thank you for your service."
Ruoxi's fingers twitched. Her chest heaved.
Her heartbeat slowed. Her vision dimmed. Every sound became distant — except for a soft whisper that seemed to come from inside her.
"Do you want revenge?"
A strange stillness wrapped around her soul.
"You were wronged. Used. Killed. But fate is offering you a second chance."
Her lips moved in a whisper only she could hear.
"Yes…"
Darkness claimed her.
And then, suddenly — light.
She gasped as she sat up, drenched in sweat. Her hand flew to her chest, expecting pain, expecting blood. But there was none.
The room was familiar. The pink drapes. The plush bear on the bed. The bookshelf filled with her old law books. She hadn't seen this place in five years.
No… this was impossible.
She scrambled off the bed and ran to the vanity table. Her trembling hands reached for her phone. The date flashed on the screen: March 12, 20XX.
Her birthday. Five years ago. Two months before her engagement.
"No… this can't be…"
But the reflection in the mirror didn't lie — her cheeks were fuller, her eyes brighter, her body untouched by pain or betrayal. She was back. Somehow, impossibly… back.
Her chest heaved. She pressed her palms against her face and laughed — a broken, trembling sound.
"This time," she whispered, "you won't win."
Her hands balled into fists. The ones who had wronged her would pay. Her family. Her fiancé. Her beloved sister.
She wasn't going to be their pawn ever again.
She was going to be the one flipping the chessboard.