Chapter 1

“Ding.”

A black BMW crashed into the guardrail. A tremendous impact surged through the car, and amid the deafening roar, Xu Yinghuai faintly heard a distant elevator chime.

But she had no time to process it.

The force of inertia threw her forward. Her head collided with a piece of shattered guardrail debris, and her vision blurred instantly.

The crash didn’t stop immediately. The car kept moving diagonally before flipping over.

Her body was crushed under various heavy objects. Xu Yinghuai couldn’t see what they were—she only knew she couldn’t move, and her consciousness was fading.

She didn’t know how much time had passed before the BMW finally came to a stop. From the outside, the car was a wreck, completely unrecognizable, with thick white smoke billowing out.

Inside, Xu Yinghuai lay slumped against the passenger seat, blood trickling from her forehead, smearing half her face.

The warm, sticky blood flowed continuously, leaving a striking, shocking trail against her delicate makeup.

Xu Yinghuai had always been terrified of pain, even more so of death. Yet this time, her reaction was surprisingly unexpected.

Before completely blacking out, she didn’t panic, she didn’t scream in fear, she didn’t even cry out for help. Instead, her mind instinctively recalled a sentence she had heard repeatedly from her best friend—who was obsessed with reincarnation novels.

— I was reborn on a dark, moonless night when you couldn’t even see your fingers in front of you.

And in the next second, Xu Yinghuai opened her eyes.

The scene before her had completely changed.

She was no longer on a winding mountain road overseas but inside a cramped elevator.

The fresh, cool air from the highway had disappeared, replaced by a suffocating, stagnant atmosphere.

Xu Yinghuai stared wide-eyed at her surroundings, struggling to adjust to the abrupt shift.

There weren’t many people in the elevator. The first ones she noticed were two individuals standing in front of her with their backs turned.

One was a tall, lean man in a khaki trench coat.

Next to him stood a woman, half a head shorter, with a slim, model-like frame and curly blonde hair.

Suddenly, Xu Yinghuai caught a whiff of a familiar scent.

For some reason, the anxious, restless turmoil within her seemed to calm.

Craving more of that strange sense of security, she took a deep breath—only for her chest to suddenly tighten.

Her heart seized painfully.

A sharp, constricting pain shot through her, momentarily robbing her of breath. Her vision blurred, her eyes filled with white spots, and she stumbled, reaching out instinctively for something to hold onto.

She fell to her knees, her body uncontrollably tipping forward.

At that moment, her hands latched onto something—no, someone.

Without hesitation, Xu Yinghuai collapsed against it, clutching tightly.

And that was when the panic truly set in.

A flurry of thoughts raced through her mind:

Her heart had been in excruciating pain just now.

Was she…

Dying?

So the elevator, the white light, the heartache—

Had she actually perished in that car crash?

Was she not reborn at all?

Because in that so-called reincarnation line, the setting was: I was reborn on a dark, moonless night when you couldn’t even see your fingers in front of you.

But now? It wasn’t dark, the wind wasn’t high, she could see her fingers perfectly, and it was broad daylight!

So right now—immediately, at this very second—was she about to ascend straight to heaven?

Was this… actual death?

!!!

“Hey, wake up. Are you okay?”

A male voice came from above her.

A man patted Xu Yinghuai’s shoulder and asked again.

Receiving no response, and seeing the trembling woman clinging to his leg, the man turned to the woman beside him and said, “Call an ambulance.”

“Okay,” Linda responded.

— I… I don’t want to go to the hospital. I have an interview to attend.

A weak female voice suddenly echoed in Xu Yinghuai’s mind.

She froze.

Snapping out of her fear, she opened her eyes—only to realize that the pain in her heart had vanished, and her breathing had stabilized.

Linda had just finished dialing the last “0” on her phone and was about to hit the call button when she noticed the girl in front of her open her eyes, looking dazed.

She hesitated, then asked, “Miss, are you alright?”

Xu Yinghuai, still gripping onto the fabric in her hands, looked up and gasped, “Linda?!”

Linda raised an eyebrow, a glint of intrigue flashing across her face as she assessed Xu Yinghuai’s reaction.

“You’re fine?”

The familiar male voice rang out again, sending another wave of déjà vu through Xu Yinghuai.

Having just gone through two major shocks in a row, her brain wasn’t functioning at full capacity, and she failed to recognize the voice immediately.

She lifted her head.

Just as she responded with a dazed “Yes,” she found herself face-to-face with the man.

And then…

Damn.

Why did he look so punchable?

Objectively speaking, his facial features were sharp and symmetrical. His deep-set eyes and strong brows gave him a brooding, charismatic presence—one that made it seem like he was gazing at everyone with affectionate intensity.

But to Xu Yinghuai, no matter how conventionally attractive his face was, he was nothing more than a simplistic stick figure—two lines for eyebrows, two dots for eyes, one line for a nose, and a mouth.

Because he was absolutely infuriating.

She stared at him, stunned for a second. Then her eyes widened in disbelief.

Her voice rose in shock, cracking slightly as she called out, “Zhou! Zi! Rong?!”

Zhou Zirong—one of the most famous film stars in recent years.

Four years ago, he had shot to fame with a low-budget suspense movie called Breaking Cocoon. The film had outperformed big-budget productions packed with popular idols, and his breakout performance had cemented his place in the industry.

Over the next four years, he rode the wave of success, carefully selecting roles that elevated his career step by step.

This year, he was officially crowned Best Actor.

Everything had gone smoothly for him—his rise was meteoric, almost enviable. But even among a hundred people who admired him, there would always be one exception.

And that exception…

Was Xu Yinghuai.

She was his ultimate anti-fan.

The world saw Zhou Zirong as a flawless actor.

She, however, saw him as a walking bundle of flaws.

Bad temper. Hates sweets. Hates spicy food. Incredibly picky. Wears the same ugly striped pajamas like a hospital patient or a prisoner. Rich as hell but stingy beyond belief. Stops her from eating ice cream in both summer and winter. Throws a jacket over her every time she wears a crop top, ruining her outfits.

She had only ten fingers, but if it were to count all of Zhou Zirong’s faults, she’d gladly take off her shoes and use her toes too.

…

“You’re fine? Then get up. This is a public space—please mind your behavior.”

Zhou Zirong’s concerned expression immediately vanished. His tone became distant, laced with slight disdain—clearly, he had mistaken Xu Yinghuai for a crazy fangirl.

He straightened his back and stepped away.

Linda moved in, offering a hand to help Xu Yinghuai up. But in reality, she was prying her hands off Zhou Zirong’s leg.

It was only then that Xu Yinghuai fully realized what she had done.

She—an influencer with millions of followers—had just knelt inside an elevator…

And clung to Zhou Zirong’s thigh.

…

Absolutely mortifying.