I died knowing exactly who killed me.

Feng Jiang's hands were steady when he held the knife. That was the part that hurt the most. No hesitation. No fear. Just calm, practiced certainty --- like he had already rehearsed my death a hundred times.

"You shouldn't have looked," he said.

The pain exploded through my chest, sharp and overwhelming, and the world collapsed into blood, concrete, and regret.

I remember thinking --- so this is it?

No justice. No closure. Just betrayal.

Then everything went dark.

When I woke up my first thought was that I hadn't gone far enough.

Because hell should not look like this.

The ceiling above me was white and impossibly clean. The air smelled faintly of disinfectant and something expensive, wood polish, maybe. My body felt heavy, wrong, like I was wearing someone else's skin.

I tried to breathe.

My chest rose smoothly.

No pain.

That alone sent a panic clawing up on my mind.

I sat up so fast. The room spun, but my body caught itself with strength I had never possessed before. My hands... Long fingers, unblemished, steady ---- gripped the edge of a massive desk.

These weren't my hands.

I stumbled toward the reflective glass wall, heart pounding, and froze.

The man staring back at me was tall, sharp-featured, devastatingly handsome in a cold, distant way. His eyes were dark and alert, his face pale but composed. He looked like someone who belonged at the top of the world.

He looked like Bai Xu.

"No." I wisphered.

My voice was wrong too. Deep. Controlled. Like it was used to being obeyed.

Memories crashed into me --- not mine, but his. Boardrooms. Contracts. Numbers so large they stopped feeling real. Headlines. A name whispered with awe and envy.

Bai Xu. Billionaire. CEO. TechCorp.

I staggered back, breath shaking.

I wasn't alive.

I wasn't dead.

I was something worse.

I pressed a hand to my chest, expecting to feel a wound, a scar.... Something. But there was nothing. Smooth skin. A steady heartbeat.

And then another memory surfaced, quiet and lethal.

A hospital room.

A weak body.

Doctors whispering.

Blood test altered.

A maid's trembling hands pouring something into tea.

Poison.

My stomach dropped.

Bai Xu was not sick.

He had been murdered.

I gripped the desk until my fingers turned white.

His father died years ago. His grandfather followed not long after, leaving everything --- everything, to Bai Xu. And that had made him a target. His uncle's father's brothers. Men who smiled at family dinners and sharpened knives behind closed doors.

They had been trying to kill him for years.

And they finally succeeded.

Except... Here I was.

I laughed softly, the sound brittle and hollow.

So this was the truth.

Lin Xia died because he uncovered the crimes of a powerful Family, the secret of his beloved ex-boyfriend Feng Jian.

Bai Xu died because his own blood wanted his empire.

And now I was living inside the body of a man who should already be in a morgue.

My pulse steadied, something cold and focused setting in my chest.

They think you're weak I thought.

They think you're dying.

They think they've already won.

I straightened slowly, staring at my reflection again.

"Bad luck," I murmured. "For all of you."

A soft chime broke the silence.

AI Assistant: "Good morning, Mr. Bai Xu. Your vitals appear stable today."

Stable.

Of course, they were. I was already dead once. What was little poison compared to that?

"Who knows I was... sick?"

: "You're uncles. The board. Select medical staff. Your personal maid."

The word maid sent a chill through me.

"She's still here?" I asked.

: "Yes. She is scheduled to bring your afternoon tea."

I smiled.

It wasn't a nice smile.

Before I could say anything else, another notification appeared.

| Meeting Reminder: Xian Group --- 2:00 pm

| Attending: Xian Jiang

The name hit me harder than I expected

Xian Jiang.

Warm eyes. Gentle voice. Someone who loved Bai Xu quietly, without demanding anything in return. Someone who had probably sat by his body's bedside, thinking he was watching the man he loved slowly die.

My chest tightened.

"This isn't my life," I muttered.

But it was my battlefield now.

I couldn't afford to fall apart. Not when Feng Jian was still breathing somewhere here in Y City. Not when Bai Xu's uncles were probably celebrating behind polite smiles.

Two lives had been taken.

I would not let a third go to waste.

I turned toward the window, Y City stretching endlessly below me -- glass, steel, power, and rot hiding beneath luxury.

"Fine," I said softly. "If I've been given this body..."

My eyes hardened.

"...then I'll finish what both of us started."

Revenge for Lin Xia.

Justice for Bai Xu.

And as for Xian Jiang---

I close my eyes briefly.

That would be the most dangerous complication of all.

Xian Jiang arrived exactly on time.

That alone told me more than any file ever could.

The office doors opened without a sound, and when I looked up, my breath caught—not because of how he looked, but because of how he felt in the room. Like warmth entering a space that had learned how to survive without it.

He wore simple dark coat, tailored but unpretentious. No flashy watch. No desperate need to display wealth. His hair was neatly styled, his expression calm, but his eyes—

His eyes went straight to me.

Not to the desk.

Not to the glass walls.

To me.

“Xu,” he said softly.

Just one word. No title. No distance.

My chest tightened in a way that wasn’t mine.

I forced myself to stay still, to sit with the way Bai Xu would sit, relaxed, confident, untouchable. Inside, my thoughts were scrambling.

This man knows him.

Not the image. Not the rumors.

The real Bai Xu.

“Jiang,” I replied.

The name felt strange on my tongue, intimate in a way I hadn’t earned.

He paused.

It was subtle—anyone else might have missed it, but I didn’t. His gaze sharpened, studying my face like he was reading between lines that shouldn’t exist.

“You look better today,” he said. “The doctors said your condition was unstable yesterday.”

Condition.

Right. The illness that never existed.

“I selpt well,” I said evenly.

Another pause.

Xian Jiang walked up closer, stopping acrross from my desk. Up close, I noticed small things—faint shadows under his eyes, the tension in his shoulders, like he hadn’t rested properly in days.

His been worried.

“Did you?” he asked.

“It wasn’t a questions about sleep.

I met his gaze and held it. “Sit down. We have a meeting.”

That was something Bai Xu would say. Cold. Efficient. A gentle push back into safe territory.

Xian Jiang did not move right away.

“Xu,” he said quietly, “you didn’t call me by my full name.”

My fingers curled against the armrest.

So that was it.

Bai Xu always called him Xian Jiang. Never just Jiang. That small intimacy was something only used when—

When he was tired.

When he was vulnerable.

When he was alone with him.

“I don’t remember everything,” I said carefully. “The illness…some things are foggy.”

It was half-truth. The most dangerous kind.

Xian Jiang’s eyes softened, and that made it worse.

“I know,” he sai, “You have been under a lot of pressure.”

He sat down finally, across from me, folding his hands down neatly on the desk. Professional. Res pectful. Like he was giving me space to breathe.

That kindess cut deeper thatn suspicion ever could.

“The board is restless,” he continued. “Your uncles are pushin for another medical evaluation. They are concerned about you ability to lead.”

Of course they were.

I almost laughed.

“They are concerned about my ability to stay alive,” I corrected.

His jaw tightened.

“You should not say things like that.”

“Why” I asked. “Because it makes them uncomfortable? Or because its scares you?”

Silence fell between us.

Xian Jiang looked at me for a long moment, really looked, like he was trying to find something familier beneath the surface.

“…You’ve never spoken like this before,” he said.

I leaned back slightly. “People change.”

“Yes,” he said slowly. “But not like this.”

There it was.

The crack.

I needed to steer this somewhere safer, before he startedf digging where he shouldn’t.

“You did not come here just to analyze my personality,” I said. “What do you want?”

His expression shifted—professional again, but something personal lingered underneath.

“The Xian Group wants to formally propose a strategic alliance,” he said. “Publicly. It would stabilize the board and silence certain rumors.”

Rumors.

He’s dying.

He’s weak.

He’s about to be reolaced.

“And privately?” I asked.

Xian Jiang’s voice dropped. “Privately, I want you protected.”

The words landed heavier thant I expected.

“I’ve increased security around your residence,” he continued. “And I’ve started looking into your medical records.”

My blood ran cold.

“How far?” I asked.

“Far enoufg to know something isn’t right,” he said calmly. “Your test results don’t align with the diagnosis.”

I stared at him.

So he had noticed.

Of course he had.

“I trust my doctors,” I said.

“No,” he replied gently. “You don’t. You trust me.”

That was the problem.

Because Bai Xu might have.

But Lin Xia don’t trust anyone anymore.

“I appreciate your concern,” I said, keeping my tone controlled. “But this is my company. My body. My decisions.”

Xian Jiang eyes darkened—not with anger, but with pain.

“I know,” he said. “I’ve always respected that.”

He stood adjusting his coat.

“But Xu,” he added, voice low, “if you think I won’t notice when the man I love starts walking like a stranger…”

My heart skipped.

Love.

The word echoed too loudly in my chest.

“…then you’re underestimating me,” he finished.

He turned toward the door, then paused.

“Be careful,” he saud. “The people who want you gone are closer thank you think.”

The door closed behind him.

The office felt colder instantly.

I exhaled slowly, pressing a hand to my chest.

This was worse than facing enemies.

Enemies wanted me dead.

Xian Jing wanted me alive.

And if he kept looking at me like that—like he was searching for someone he was afriad he’d already lost...

I was not sure how long I could keep lying.