Chapter 1

The Girl in the Mirror

The Lin mansion had three floors, twelve chandeliers, and only one daughter.

At least, that was what Madam Chen Lihua told the world.

But in the farthest corner of the estate, past the manicured garden and beyond the servant quarters, there was another girl who shared the same bloodline — and almost the same face.

Her name was Lin Xueyi.

And she learned very early that she was not meant to shine.

Morning Light

The first rays of sunlight slipped through silk curtains embroidered with peonies — flowers that symbolized wealth and honor.

They fell gently across Lin Xueyan’s face.

She stirred softly.

Her room smelled faintly of lavender and expensive perfume. Her vanity table was neatly arranged with crystal bottles, silver combs, and a framed family photo.

In the photo, Lin Zhenghao stood proudly in the center. Madam Chen stood beside him, dignified and elegant.

And between them — Lin Xueyan, twelve years old at the time the photo was taken, smiling like she belonged to a perfect world.

There was no trace of Xueyi in that frame.

There never was.

A knock sounded at the door.

“Miss Xueyan, breakfast is ready,” a servant said gently.

Xueyan sat up, brushing her long black hair over her shoulder. She had inherited her father’s sharp eyes and her mother’s delicate features. Her skin was porcelain pale, her movements graceful without effort.

She was beautiful in a way that felt effortless.

She stepped into the hallway.

And froze.

Standing near the staircase, adjusting her school uniform collar, was another girl.

Her face.

Almost.

The resemblance was unsettling.

The same almond-shaped eyes.

The same straight nose.

The same soft lips.

But where Xueyan looked polished and refined, Xueyi looked sharp, alert — like a stray cat that had learned to survive on scraps.

“Why are you staring?” Xueyi asked flatly.

Xueyan blinked and looked away.

“I wasn’t.”

“You always do.”

There was no accusation in her voice. Only familiarity.

Xueyi’s uniform was clearly altered — slightly loose at the shoulders, sleeves a bit too long.

It had once belonged to Xueyan.

Everything she wore had.

The Difference in Status

At the dining table, the hierarchy was clear.

Lin Zhenghao at the head.

Madam Chen to his right.

Xueyan beside her mother.

Xueyi stood behind, waiting.

She was not invited to sit unless instructed.

Madam Chen glanced at her briefly.

“Did you finish your homework?”

“Yes, Madam,” Xueyi replied calmly.

“Your grades are acceptable. Do not embarrass this family.”

Xueyan lowered her gaze.

Her mother’s tone was colder than usual.

Lin Zhenghao cleared his throat but said nothing.

He never defended Xueyi.

He never acknowledged her openly either.

After the family finished eating, the servants began clearing plates.

Only then did Xueyi sit down to eat what remained.

Cold porridge.

Leftover vegetables.

She didn’t complain.

But her eyes lifted slightly — watching Xueyan laugh softly at something her father said.

That laugh.

It sounded like belonging.

And Xueyi wanted it.

School — Where Masks Were Worn

At Shenghua Private Academy, the difference between them shifted — but never disappeared.

Both girls were known.

Not as sisters.

But as rivals.

Whispers followed them through corridors.

“Have you noticed they look alike?”

“Which one is the real daughter?”

“I heard one of them is illegitimate.”

Students pretended not to know, but everyone did.

Xueyan was class monitor.

Top ten in academics.

Polite, soft-spoken.

Teachers adored her.

Boys admired her from a safe distance.

Xueyi, on the other hand, was sharp-tongued and unpredictable.

She was brilliant — often scoring higher than Xueyan in mathematics and literature — but she never showed humility.

When praised, she smiled slightly.

When criticized, she stared until the teacher grew uncomfortable.

She refused to be small.

And that made people uneasy.

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