*PROLOGUE*
I trusted her.
_First mistake. Biggest mistake. Dumbest mistake. Gold medal in mistakes._
That was my first mistake. And my last.
Hán MěiLíng was not my blood. Everyone in the Han manor knew it, but no one ever said it out loud.
_Yeah, no one said it. But everyone looked. Every single dinner. Every birthday. "The real daughter" vs "the charity project". I saw it. I just… pretended I didn't._
She was the adopted daughter my father, Prime Minister Hán ZhìXuān, brought home one winter when I was seven. Thin, quiet, with eyes too big for her face.
_She looked like a drowned kitten. Shivering. Lost. And I was seven and stupid and thought 'oh, a sister!'_
She clung to my sleeve the first night and whispered, "Can I call you jiejie?"
_And my dumb, soft, idiot heart went 'YES'. Oh damn. Past Me, I hate you._
I said yes.
For ten years, I said yes to everything.
Yes, you can borrow my hairpins. Yes, you can sit beside Father at dinner. Yes, you can cry on my shoulder when the tutors scold you.
_Yes, you can have my blanket. Yes, you can have my spot. Yes, you can have my Father's smile because I don't need it. Right? RIGHT?!
God, I was so desperate to be good. To be 'the real daughter' so she wouldn't feel bad. And look where that got me.
I thought we were sisters.
_We weren't. We were NEVER sisters. I was a prop. A mirror for her to look better in. And I POLISHED MYSELF FOR HER._
The night I died, the manor was dressed for celebration. Red lanterns, sweet wine, the low hum of congratulations. My betrothal had been announced that afternoon — a good match, a secure match.
_Secure. Ha. Secure like a coffin._
Father had actually smiled at me.
_Actually SMILED. At ME. For once. Oh damn, it felt… good. Stupid. But good._
My brothers had teased me.
_Lì called me 'Little Bride'. Míng tried to steal my sweet wine. Chén— my brother Chén— just handed me a book and said 'Don't set it on fire'. That's Chén for 'congratulations'._
_I thought… maybe… maybe I belonged tonight._
It felt, for once, like I belonged.
MěiLíng had hugged me the tightest of all.
"Jiejie, I'm so happy for you," she said, her voice thick. "You deserve to be happy."
_Her arms were shaking. I thought it was joy. I'm SO STUPID. That wasn't joy. That was adrenaline. That was a murderer warming up._
I hugged her back. "We both do."
_We both do. GOD. I gave her that line. I gave her the knife and said 'here, stab me gently'._
She pulled away and looked at me, and something in her eyes flickered. I told myself it was just tears.
_It wasn't tears. It was math. It was 'how hard do I have to push'. I just didn't speak murder-ese yet._
Later, a servant found me. "Young miss MěiLíng asks you to meet her in the east wing. She says it's important. And private."
_Private. Sure. Private like a grave. Why didn't I bring Chén. Why didn't I bring ANYONE. Oh right. Because I'm an idiot who trusts people._
The east wing was empty at night. The wind moved through the open balcony and made the lanterns sway. MěiLíng was standing there alone, my betrothal letter in her hands, the red seal already broken.
_My letter. MY LETTER. The one with Father's seal. The one that said I was… worth something._
_Oh no. Oh no oh no oh no. My stomach just dropped to the courtyard._
"MěiLíng?" I said, confused. "What are you doing with that?"
She didn't turn around at first. When she did, her face was calm. Too calm.
_That's not her 'sad' face. That's not her 'jealous' face. That's her 'I've already decided you're dead' face. RUN. JIĀYÌ RUN._
"Do you remember," she asked softly, "the first night I came here?"
_No. Nope. Don't do nostalgia before murder. That's evil villain 101._
"Of course I do."
_Why did I say that. Why am I playing along. BRAIN, WHERE ARE YOU._
"You gave me your blanket. Because I was cold. You said, 'Don't be scared, I'm your jiejie now.'"
_I did. I did say that. And I MEANT it. And she's about to use it to kill me. Fantastic._
I smiled, a little sad. "I meant it."
"I know," she said. "That's the problem. You always meant it."
_...What. WHAT DOES THAT MEAN. HOW IS ME BEING NICE THE PROBLEM. WHAT THE HELL._
She walked toward me, slow. "You were kind to me. You shared everything. And every time you did, Father looked at you like you were the good daughter. The real daughter. And he looked at me like I was a project. A charity."
_MěiLíng—_
_Wait. Wait wait wait. Is she… is she blaming me for Father being awful? For HER being adopted? WHAT. THAT'S NOT—_
"Don't." Her voice cracked, just once. "Don't say my name like you pity me. You got the name, JiāYì. The blood. The future. And now you get the marriage too. You get everything just by existing. While I have to smile and beg and be perfect every single second just to be tolerated."
_Oh. Oh god. Oh god oh god. She's not crying because she's sad. She's crying because she's FURIOUS. And she's been furious for TEN YEARS._
_And I gave her my hairpins. I gave her my SEAT._
My chest hurt. "That's not true. Father loves you—"
"He tolerates me!" she snapped, and the mask finally slipped. "And you don't even want it! You don't even care who you're marrying! You just say 'yes, Father' and 'thank you, Father' and everyone applauds you for being obedient!"
_She's right. I don't care. I never got to care. But that's not— that's not my fault! I didn't ask to be born!_
_Her face. Her face isn't MěiLíng anymore. It's something else. Something hungry._
I took a step back. The balcony railing pressed cold against my spine.
_Too close. She's too close. The railing's too low. The courtyard's too far down. OH DAMN OH DAMN OH DAMN._
"MěiLíng, you're scaring me. Put the letter down. Let's talk tomorrow—"
"There is no tomorrow for you, jiejie."
_…What._
_WHAT DID SHE JUST—_
She moved so fast I didn't even see her hand.
The push was hard. Deliberate. Not an accident, not a slip — a choice.
_She. Pushed. Me._
_OH MY GOD SHE PUSHED ME. SHE ACTUALLY—_
I went over the railing.
_AIR. I'M IN THE AIR. I'M FALLING. I'M FALLING I'M FALLING I'M FALLING—_
For one terrible second I was flying, the courtyard rushing up to meet me, the lanterns blurring overhead — and then the stone hit me.
_PAIN. PAIN PAIN PAIN. OH GOD. MY RIBS. MY HEAD. NONONONO._
Pain. Everywhere. White, screaming pain in my ribs, my head, my leg. I couldn't move. Couldn't breathe. Blood filled my mouth, warm and metallic.
_Can't breathe. Can't— is this it? Is this how it ends? With sweet wine still on my tongue and my sister's hands on my back?_
I heard her shoes on the stone as she walked to the edge and looked down at me.
_Don't look. Don't look at me. Oh god please don't—_
I tried to lift my hand. Tried to speak. Help me. Please.
_Help me. Somebody. Anybody. Lì. Míng. CHÉN. My brother, please—_
She came down the stairs and knelt beside me. Her hands, gentle, took mine. She arranged my hair off my face the way she used to when we were girls.
_No. No no no. Don't touch me. Don't you DARE touch me. Your hands. Your hands pushed me. YOUR HANDS—_
"Shhh," she whispered, stroking my cheek. "It'll be over soon."
_She's soothing me. She's SOOTHING me while I'm dying. Like I'm a sick cat she's putting down._
_YOU MONSTER. YOU ABSOLUTE MONSTER. I GAVE YOU MY BLANKET._
Footsteps. Shouting. My father's voice, raw: "JIĀYÌ!"
_Father. Father's here. Father will see. Father will know. Tell him. TELL HIM._
MěiLíng's face changed instantly. Her eyes filled. Her bottom lip trembled. She was magnificent.
_Oh. Oh you EVIL— She's acting. She's ACTING. Right now. Over my body._
"Father!" she sobbed, throwing herself over my body as he ran in. "She slipped! I tried to grab her — I tried, I swear I tried—"
_LIAR. LIAR LIAR LIAR! I WANT TO SCREAM BUT THERE'S BLOOD. THERE'S ONLY BLOOD._
He dropped to his knees beside me, his hands hovering, afraid to touch me. "JiāYì? JiāYì, look at me—"
_Father. Father, look at her. Look at her HANDS. Look at her—_
I looked at him. I tried to say the words. It was her. Father, please. It was her.
But only blood came out.
_No sound. No words. Just blood. Just useless, stupid blood. I'm going to die with her lying and him believing._
MěiLíng was crying into my shoulder, her body shaking with grief. To anyone watching, she was the devastated sister.
_Devastated. Right. Devastated that she has to touch my corpse. Devastated it took so long._
Only I could feel her fingers, tight around my wrist.
Not holding me.
Holding me down.
_She's making sure. She's making SURE I don't get up. She's PINNING me. To DIE._
_I hate you. I hate you I hate you I hate you. I hope you rot. I hope—_
The last thing I saw was her face, half-hidden by my father's arm.
She wasn't crying anymore.
She was smiling.
_That smile. That tiny, secret, satisfied smile._
_I'll remember that smile. Even if I go to hell. Even if I—_
And then the dark took me.
---
I died believing no one would ever know the truth.
_No one knew. Father thinks I slipped. Chén— my brother Chén— thinks I was clumsy. Lì and Míng think…_
_They all think I was an accident. And she gets to live in my house. With my name. With my—_
I woke up sixteen years old again, on the day my parents divorced.
And I didn't remember any of it.
_…What._
_What do you MEAN I don't remember. I just— I just FELT it. I just DIED. How do I not—_
_Oh god. Oh god. She gets away with it. She gets away with ALL OF IT._
---