She stared at him, wide-eyed, as beads of sweat formed on her forehead. He returned her stare with a glare, as if boring holes into her skin. She bit hard on her lips, forcing herself to endure the pain as he emptied his pistol into her body. Pain shredded the last strand of sanity that held her together. Her body staggered as blood spilled out. This was the end, she thought.
She dropped to one knee, enduring the pain, forcing her lips to part, revealing the hollow where her tongue should have been. Her vision blurred, and blood pooled from several wounds across her body. She forced herself to look at him once more — her own husband. He wasn't looking at her; instead, he stared down at his watch.
"Ling'er… I'll be late today," he muttered.
My sister…
Of all people, my own sister. At the moment of her death, that was the thought that echoed in her mind. The pain slowly faded, as if it had never existed, and she lost consciousness. Finally, she was going to find peace. Finally, she was free from this world.
That was what she thought — until fate played a cruel joke on her.
Where am I? Her body itched terribly.
She kicked and struggled, but her body was firmly bound. She felt the blindfold wrapped around her eyes as adrenaline rushed through her veins. She struggled to free herself, her limbs bound tightly with restraints. With great difficulty, she managed to break free from the restraint on her right hand. Immediately, she lifted the blindfold from her eyes and was greeted by darkness. Yet, something about it felt wrong.
Slowly, a lump formed in her chest. What's going on?
Hurriedly, she freed her other limbs and pushed herself to her feet, only to regret it as pain shot through her leg, sending her crashing back to the ground. Something wasn't right. Using her hands to feel around her body, she quickly realized what was wrong.
Her left arm was intact. Hadn't it been amputated?
She gasped. Her tongue—once cut off—was back in place, as if it had never been gone. She looked around in shock. The surroundings were both familiar and unfamiliar. What was going on?
She stood and began to wander through the darkness, trying to make sense of everything. Was it all a dream? Everything that had just happened—was it all a dream? Tears clouded her vision as she searched blindly.
Eventually, she found her way to a door and stepped out. The hallway was silent, with no visible source of light. She traced her way along the walls, trying to recall this place.
Suddenly, a voice rang out behind her.
"She escaped! Chase her! Catch her!"
Heavy footsteps followed. She immediately broke into a run.
Then it clicked.
The day she was kidnapped—this place felt exactly the same. But she had been seventeen back then. This wasn't possible. Why had her lost limbs returned? None of it made sense.
She continued forward, eventually spotting the exit of the building. In the distance, she saw a car with an open trunk. Ignoring the pain in her joints, she dashed toward it and climbed inside. She lay flat and waited.
If this truly was that day from when she was seventeen, then this was her only chance to escape.
She prayed and waited.
In less than ten minutes, she felt someone enter the vehicle and start the engine. This should be the car transporting drugs, she noted mentally. She waited until it had driven some distance before allowing herself to relax slightly.
Everything had happened so quickly. One moment, she was dying. The next, she was reliving a moment from her past. She couldn't explain the regrowth of her limbs, nor could she fully accept that she had been reborn. None of it made sense.
Thinking back to how her life had ended, her husband killing her for her sister—and all the unfortunate events that had led up to it, she couldn't stop the tears from falling.
She forced herself to think ahead. Her next destination—the police station.
If this truly was the past, then her family wouldn't begin searching for her until the police contacted them. So she waited, watching for any familiar streets where she could later find a cab.
She waited… and waited… and waited—until the vehicle finally entered a busy road filled with traffic and police checkpoints.
Perfect, she murmured, positioning herself so she would be seen.
An injured teenage girl discovered in the trunk of a drug trafficker at night—it would be the perfect alibi.
As the car approached inspection, the police quickly noticed her and raised the alarm. The driver was seized despite his attempts to defend himself.
Everything unfolded exactly as she expected. She played her role perfectly.
When the police asked for her family's contact, she deliberately gave them a different number.
Minutes later, an elderly man approached her, dressed in a luxurious tuxedo.
"Young madam, I'm here to take you home."
He bowed slightly, and she gave a small nod in response.
She had called the one man she had always feared—her grandfather.
Chairman Shen.
And just as expected, he had sent someone to retrieve her immediately.
***************
Shen Ruji opened her eyes slowly; she had fallen asleep from exhaustion and now found herself in an unfamiliar bedroom.
"Madam, are you awake?" a voice came from across the room.
She quickly sat up with great difficulty. "Where am I?" Her voice sounded hoarse and dry— it had been so long since she used her tongue that it felt strange.
"The master requested to see you immediately; you may freshen up first, he has been waiting for some time," the maid said. "I've prepared clothes for you." She pointed at the folded set on the chair.
Ruji nodded and got out of bed as soon as the maid left.
Standing before the mirror, she stared at her reflection—she truly was seventeen again. Tears clouded her eyes. If she said she wasn't shocked, she would be lying. She touched her face, the scar that once existed in her previous life now gone; her skin was smooth. She stuck out her tongue to examine it—it was still there.
She couldn't remember much from this age; after all, her mind now belonged to a matured 47-year-old woman. After checking the calendar and confirming she was still in school that year, she braced herself for this new life.
Walking downstairs in a white sleeveless gown that stopped at her knees, she spotted her grandfather. His broad back faced her; even age had not diminished his aura.
She walked over and sat beside him. She noticed something by the corner of the room. Her feet paused and her eyes widened at the sight of a painting hanging on the wall. That was her gift to him when she first got into college on his birthday. The gift should have come next year, why is it here....
She was clearly still in high school at 17, did something change?