Chapter 5

In the instant Yun Yin froze, Pei Yu’s gaze fell upon her.

It had been barely half a month since they last met, yet she seemed different.

Her amber eyes, like crystal-clear water, shone with luminous clarity. Perhaps due to a lack of rest, she appeared slightly thinner than before, her collarbone more prominent and hinting at a fragile vulnerability.

Staring at him, Yun Yin pressed her pale lips together, her voice tinged with confusion. “Did I say that?”

Pei Yu’s gaze paused momentarily at her words but quickly returned to normal.

As if struck by a sudden thought, he leaned closer, closing the distance between them. In that instant, he sensed a flicker of disorientation in her.

His slender fingers pinched her chin. Yun Yin didn’t flinch, her clear, bright eyes fixed on his, as if capable of reflecting the deepest desires of the human heart.

Pei Yu’s hand slowly slid down, caressing her slender, smooth neck—soft and vulnerable, so easily broken with just a slight tightening of his fingers.

It was a gesture both intimate and perilous.

At that moment, Yun Yin felt no fear. She simply tilted her head slightly and softly called his name, “Pei Yu.”

“Do you want to kill me?”

Though phrased as a question, her words carried an inexplicable certainty.

As soon as she spoke, the air around them seemed to freeze.

Pei Yu’s breathing grew heavier.

He didn’t answer her question but stared at her intently, his voice low and grave. “Would you betray me?”

After a few seconds, Yun Yin suddenly smiled.

Her eyes curved into crescents, and her sickly pale face bloomed with life and vitality.

“No,” she replied with unwavering certainty, her smile fixed on him.

Pei Yu remained silent, as if gauging the truth of her words.

Abruptly, he released her.

No mark remained on Yun Yin’s neck.

Pei Yu continued to gaze at her, a fleeting darkness flickering in his deep eyes, too swift to be caught.

Yun Yin tilted her head slightly, meeting his gaze.

In that instant, her heart seemed to skip a beat.

Suddenly, she understood. From the moment Pei Yu had asked his question, he had never truly intended to harm her.

A bluff.

Yun Yin inexplicably thought of that word.

The sun gradually set, painting the horizon a deep, dark purple as twilight deepened.

Suddenly, a strong gust of wind swept through the garden, causing the roses to sway violently and releasing waves of rich floral fragrance.

Yun Yin had no interest in admiring the scene. The sudden wind made her frail body tremble.

For others, the breeze might have been refreshing, but for Yun Yin’s delicate frame, it was unbearable.

“Cough, cough, cough!” As the wind intensified, Yun Yin lowered her head and coughed, clutching her small blanket tighter around herself. The effect was minimal, her face grew even paler, like a camellia blossom teetering on a branch.

While she was coughing softly, a sensation of weightlessness washed over her. Forgetting her blanket, Yun Yin instinctively wrapped her arms around Pei Yu’s neck. When she regained her composure, she gazed at him with a plaintive expression. “You scared me.”

Pei Yu lowered his gaze to the woman in his arms. The coughing had brought a faint flush to Yun Yin’s cheeks, and her eyes were rimmed with red, making her look utterly pitiful.

Pei Yu’s eyes darkened slightly. He glanced at her sideways and asked coolly, “Not cold anymore?”

Yun Yin paused, then resignedly replied, “Still cold.”

Pei Yu fell silent, simply picking her up and striding into the bedroom.

Yun Yin, still thinking about her small blanket, quickly called out, “My blanket!”

Pei Yu paused briefly, his brow furrowing slightly, before resuming his brisk pace. “Someone will bring it to you.”

Relieved, Yun Yin stopped worrying.

Pei Yu set her down on the living room sofa, answered a phone call, glanced at her without a word, and left. He didn’t return until dinnertime.

Yun Yin took only a few bites of her meal before losing her appetite. She retreated to the bedroom, lay on the bed, and stared up at the crystal chandelier on the ceiling, lost in thought.

Ever since fully accepting the inescapable reality of transmigrating into the book, Yun Yin had lost all interest in the intricate plots of betrayal and grand schemes. She had no desire to become entangled in them.

In this relentless power struggle, even if the villains gained the upper hand early on, they would inevitably lose to the male lead in countless ways, ensuring his ultimate triumph in the business war.

Everyone, including Pei Yu and herself, was merely paving the way for the male lead’s growth and ascent to the top.

This was the predetermined ending of the book.

But Yun Yin refused to accept it.

She didn’t know what would happen if she tried to change the plot, but she didn’t care.

She knew she wouldn’t live much longer anyway.

The moment Yun Yin decided to cut ties with the male lead, she knew a mountain of trouble lay ahead.

And she loathed trouble more than anything.

But compared to Pei Yu, Zhou Wenze irritated her even more.

After a moment’s thought, Yun Yin unlocked her phone and opened the WeChat account she’d blocked on her first day in the novel.

As expected, Zhou Wenze had sent her a long string of messages.

She casually scrolled through them until she found the information she needed.

A few seconds later, she typed a single word into the chat: “Understood.”

Almost immediately, her phone rang.

Yun Yin answered, and Zhou Wenze’s eager voice came through the line: “A’Yin, how’s the situation with Pei Yu?”

Hearing that nickname, Yun Yin instinctively frowned and held the phone further from her ear. “Don’t call me A’Yin,” she said calmly.

Zhou Wenze paused before replying slowly, “Didn’t you used to love it when I called you that?”

Yun Yin’s delicate eyebrows furrowed even deeper, her temper flaring. “I don’t anymore.”

This wasn’t the most important thing right now, and Zhou Wenze didn’t care anyway. Knowing her spoiled-princess nature, he brushed it off with a placating tone: “Alright, alright. Can you tell me about Pei Yu now?”

Yun Yin didn’t answer his question, impatiently repeating, “How much longer do I have to stay here?”

Zhou Wenze had also lost his patience, but he maintained a pretense of tenderness as he soothed her, “Once this bidding process is over, we can be together.”

Yun Yin’s face remained expressionless, her tone relentless. “I don’t feel like you care about me at all. I’ve already sent you the bid documents, so don’t bother contacting me again.” Before Zhou Wenze could respond, she hung up.

Zhou Wenze stared at the disconnected call, dismissing Yun Yin’s earlier threats as a childish tantrum to get his attention. He was confident that a few sweet words later would have her completely devoted to him again.

This contrast only made him miss that other person in his heart even more.

Yun Yin would never measure up to that person.

After hanging up, Yun Yin clutched her blanket and drifted into a restless sleep.

Perhaps because she had seen Pei Yu that day, she dreamed of him.

They seemed far apart. Pei Yu turned, his gaze piercing through layers of mist, locking onto her.

His eyes held a sorrow she couldn’t comprehend.

The dimly lit room was quiet, so quiet that one could hear the even, gentle breathing of the person in bed.

Not long ago, in the same dim room, Pei Yu had leaned back in his chair, his neck slightly tilted, casually listening to every word Yun Yin spoke on the phone.

Pei Yu had pondered for a long time. His memories of Yun Yin were sparse, yet a persistent voice in his mind insisted she was important. Only when he brought her close did that voice quiet down.

He alone knew he harbored no affection for this woman.

Before, Yun Yin had been nothing more than someone he didn’t need to pay much attention to. Yet this very person he’d dismissed had caused him to stumble badly.

Zhou Wenze had used her as a pawn, then discarded her without hesitation after the incident.

When Pei Yu opened his eyes and found himself ten years in the past, he felt utterly indifferent to everything.

In his final act of vengeance, he had punished everyone—including her, of course.

But today, seeing those eyes again, the voice in his mind grew stronger than ever.

Unlike his previous life, Pei Yu found himself unexpectedly intrigued.

The situation seemed to be growing increasingly intriguing.

Yun Yin, at this moment, appeared vastly different from her previous life.

What if Yun Yin, like him, had also died once?

What would she do?

Would she directly tell Zhou Wenze not to bid on that land, revealing the events that would follow?

Or would she stay close to him, biding her time for revenge?

Yet no matter what, Yun Yin wouldn’t have turned around and manipulated Zhou Wenze into bidding on the land. Instead, she chose to remain quietly here, doing nothing at all.

Or perhaps, Yun Yin hadn’t been reborn at all.

In the dimly lit, silent room, a faint murmur drifted from the phone on the desk.

Pei Yu stared at the phone for an unknown length of time before slowly closing his eyes. The voice in his mind grew increasingly insistent.

He had no interest in reliving his past experiences. Ever since awakening, he found everything utterly tedious.

Resolving those impending grudges was merely a matter of time.

Within his meticulously planned arrangements, an unforeseen variable had emerged—

Yun Yin.

The Yun Yin who wasn’t Yun Yin.