Chapter 001

001.

Zhao Xue couldn’t fall asleep that night.

The night was as calm as water. Moonlight quietly flowed in through the lattice windows, filling the room with a soft glow.

She picked up her sword, Splashing Snow, and stepped outside.

The courtyard was peaceful and still, bathed in serene moonlight.

Zhao Xue raised her hand and swung her sword, striking down hard on the wooden training post.

Wood chips flew everywhere, and the jolt numbed her palm, the pain echoing deep into her chest.

She took a few deep breaths, slashed down a few more times, and wiped the sweat from her forehead.

But even just this bit of practice had already left her pale and exhausted, her strength completely drained.

Discouraged, Zhao Xue let go of her sword.

She sat down, leaning against the training post, and looked up at the moonlit sky. Only a few stars twinkled faintly above.

Among them, two stars shone especially bright, while the one caught between them appeared dim and flickering—barely holding on, as if its light could fade at any moment.

Just like her.

Not long ago, Zhao Xue had fallen ill.

Her health had never been good, and getting sick was nothing new for her.

But this time, the illness left her bedridden for nearly three full days.

And during those three days, she had a dream.

In the dream, the world she lived in was actually a tragic ^[1]“xianxia romance novel” is a story set in this fantasy world of cultivation and martial arts with a strong focus on romance, often mixed with tragedy, power struggles, and emotional … Continue readingxianxia romance novel. And the female lead of that novel was none other than her younger sister, Zhao Lan.

As the main heroine of the novel—and the youngest daughter of the Shen family—Shen Zhao Lan was beautiful, clever, charming, and willful. Everyone adored her. Not only that, she was incredibly gifted and would one day join the top sword sect in the cultivation world, eventually becoming the final disciple of the Sword Sovereign.

But that wasn’t the point.

The point was—this was a tragedy.

Despite her brilliance, Zhao Lan would not go on to live a smooth and blessed life. Instead, she would fall into endless suffering, meeting a tragic end.

Just like their older sister, Zhao Yang.

Zhao Yang was the eldest of the three sisters—five years older than Zhao Lan, and three years older than Zhao Xue. She was beautiful, gentle, resilient, and kind—a shining figure, the “white moonlight” in the hearts of the disciples from the four great sect families.

But sadly, just two years into the story, she would fall into the Abyss of Ten Thousand Demons and die. The four male leads, all of whom had loved her deeply, would go mad with grief.

Then, upon seeing Zhao Lan, who looked almost exactly like Zhao Yang, they would treat her as a substitute.
They would torment her endlessly, and then, under the guise of love, beg her for forgiveness.

Over and over again, with no end.

Zhao Lan, proud and unyielding, would eventually break under the torture and throw herself into the same abyss, following her beloved elder sister into death.

When she got to this part, Zhao Xue originally thought this was the firepit ending.

But it wasn’t.

It was a firepit—just not hers alone. It was everyone’s firepit, including their entire family’s.

Because of Zhao Yang and Zhao Lan’s deaths, the male leads were plunged into utter despair. Regret consumed them, but unable to cope with their guilt and remorse, they turned their anger toward the Zhao family.

At that time, the Shen family’s patriarch had gone off to fight in a war against the demon clan. With no one left to guard the house, and the head of the family sacrificing all manpower to protect the city’s people, the entire family was mobilized.

In the end, they all perished in a sea of flames.

—Only Zhao Xue survived.

Back then, her health had been too poor, and she had been recovering at a villa on the outskirts of the city. By the time she heard the news and rushed back, her family had already been reduced to ashes.

In the dream, Zhao Xue wandered among the endless ruins of broken walls and shattered beams, looking up at the dark grey sky. Embers floated through the air, unable to fully express the depth of her despair.

She returned to the family shrine and found her mother barely clinging to life. Her mother grasped her hand tightly and told her—

“You must live.”

Live on.

However, when that night’s dream ended, what greeted her was a system that told her to walk straight into death.

【Hello, Host. This is not walking to your death.】

The mechanical voice echoed in Zhao Xue’s mind.

Compared to the first time she heard this voice, Zhao Xue was now much calmer.

“You want me to take the place of my older sister and younger sister, and go charm those terrifying villains—how is that not walking to my death?”

Zhao Xue tried her best to use the word “charm” like the system had taught her.

【This is called “fake death.”】

The system corrected her.

【You won’t die. As long as you complete the missions and are willing, this system will assist you. You’ll leave their sides under the pretense of death, and live the peaceful life you’ve always dreamed of.】

Zhao Xue said nothing.

As a child, she had been abandoned by her parents and picked up from the snowy wilderness by the Shen family to accompany the then-ill matriarch for amusement. They gave her the name “Zhao Xue” (meaning “Illuminating Snow”).

She lived as a dependent in their household for over ten years. Although the Shen family had never treated her badly, she had always lived on eggshells, carefully observing everyone’s moods to get by.

And things only got worse after Zhao Lan was born.

Zhao Yang and Zhao Lan were true sisters. They looked alike, always linked arms and whispered sweet nothings, and both possessed rare, natural talent for cultivation.

In comparison, Zhao Xue was born with damaged spiritual veins and could not practice immortal arts—an innate good-for-nothing destined to be cut off from the immortal path.

Zhao Xue knew she had no right to ask for more. But still, she couldn’t help but feel sad.

She gripped Splashing Snow tightly in her hand—it was a birthday gift from Zhao Lan.

Zhao Lan’s birthday was just one day apart from hers. Splashing Snow was a sword Zhao Lan picked from the many gifts she received for her birthday and gave to her the next day.

Although Zhao Xue knew it had originally been gifted to Zhao Lan by someone else, she still treasured it deeply.

Because it was the only sword she owned.

She didn’t have any talent for cultivation, and she was always the unnoticed one in the family. Hardly anyone paid attention to her. And since her birthday was only a day apart from Zhao Lan’s, she never celebrated her birthday on her own.

Instead, she lived off the leftover warmth of Zhao Lan’s birthday.

【You don’t agree with my plan—then do you have a better one?】

The system asked her.

“……”

Zhao Xue gripped the hilt of Splashing Snow, lowering her lashes.

“I want to kill them.”

Those bastards… they burned down the only place she could call a refuge. They destroyed the peaceful life she once had. So why should she have to smile at them?

【…】

The system went silent for a moment, then asked her in return:

【Can you even kill them?】

Zhao Xue fell silent again.

She gloomily stared at her own pale, slender wrists. So thin and fragile, they looked even slimmer than the hilt of Splashing Snow.

Those four male leads—each one more powerful than the last, each standing at a higher peak of status.

In the later stages, they were beings who could destroy the heavens and earth with a wave of their hand.

Giving her this half-baked “fake death” plan, this weak and useless system function—why not just open her spiritual veins directly? That would’ve been more helpful.

Useless.

The system tried to reason with her:

【Your mission is only to stop them from destroying this world’s timeline. You don’t want the full annihilation ending either, right?】

Zhao Xue asked, “And how can you guarantee that after I die, they won’t destroy my family?”

【That’s nothing you need to worry about,】 the system replied.

【Don’t overestimate your importance. You’re neither the female lead nor the beloved white moonlight. You don’t carry destiny on your back. Even if you do die, it won’t trigger a massive upheaval in this world.】

In other words, as long as she could avoid the storylines of “white moonlight” and “substitute,” the total destruction ending could be prevented.

That was exactly why the system chose Zhao Xue.

Zhao Xue didn’t answer, but the system could feel her mood turning darker. It seemed she no longer wanted to continue the conversation.

She took Splashing Snow and went back, sleeping in the moonlight.

The system, worried, reminded her:

【Zhao Yang is returning from the Hidden Sword Sect tomorrow. You need to be prepared.】

Zhao Xue said in a low voice, “I know. Shut up.”

No more voices came from her mind after that.

Zhao Xue closed her eyes and coughed a few times.

To be honest, she didn’t believe a word of what the system said about this so-called “fake death.”

Most likely, she would truly die.

In this cultivation world where everyone could easily live for hundreds of years, Zhao Xue, who was frail and sickly, would undoubtedly “die young.” She wouldn’t even reach the average lifespan of a normal person.

And yet, in the book, she was the only one in the family who survived.

The book didn’t explain why, but Zhao Xue knew that once she lost the family’s protection, she would likely meet a dead end.

If she didn’t take the mission and the Shen family was destroyed, she would definitely die.
If she did take the mission, there might still be a sliver of hope.

…If she wanted to live, she had no choice but to follow the system’s instructions. After all, her whole life had always been under someone else’s control.

Zhao Xue covered her mouth and nose, coughing violently. A faint taste of blood rose up in her throat.

She curled up and clenched her fists.

And just like that, she drifted off into a hazy sleep.

—

The next morning, the system’s mission alert woke her.

Zhao Xue dragged her sleepy body up and rubbed her eyes.

The maids in the residence were all cheerful: “The young lady is coming back today—everyone, move quickly!”

Zhao Xue was pulled up for washing and dressing. By midday, a 【Major Event】 prompt flashed before her eyes once again.

She closed the prompt impatiently and looked at herself in the mirror.

Since she had been picked up by the family, her appearance bore no resemblance to Zhao Yang or Zhao Lan.

But she was beautiful.

Pale skin, a sharp jawline, slightly drooping eyes with innocent clarity, and delicate, refined features. Even in a cultivation world full of beauties, she had never been outshined.

But aside from her looks, she had no strengths.

After getting cleaned up, Zhao Xue ate breakfast and went to the main hall to wait for Zhao Yang.

Zhao Lan was sitting with their mother, chatting affectionately.

As the female lead of the novel, Zhao Lan could easily attract most people’s attention and affection. They looked like a real mother and daughter—intimate and inseparable.

Zhao Xue turned her head away. The air in the hall suddenly felt heavy. She stood up and left to get some fresh air by the lakeside.

According to today’s storyline, Zhao Yang and her senior brother would return from the Hidden Sword Sect. The two of them were originally set to go down the mountain to suppress demons and had come back briefly to visit the family elders and say farewell.

The last time Zhao Xue returned home had been years ago, and everyone had missed her dearly. The household was filled with joyful energy because of it.

At the same time, a senior who came along discovered Zhao Lan’s impressive talent while she had been cultivating at home. Upon Zhao Yang’s recommendation, they decided to bring Zhao Lan along for demon-slaying training.

To be honest, this had nothing to do with Zhao Xue. Whether at home or in the plot, she was always a dispensable, transparent figure. Even if she suddenly disappeared from everyone’s sight, no one would notice.

Not to mention—she didn’t want to attend this banquet.

Zhao Xue sat under a tree by the lake. A cool breeze brushed against her cheeks, and the solitude brought her a sense of ease. Sleepiness from the night before began to creep up on her. Before she knew it, she had dozed off.

Perhaps the sickbed plot had affected her too deeply, because in her brief nap, she once again saw that hellish scene.

Flames blazed across the streets, scorching deep, blackened trenches into the ground. Smoke billowed thickly. The air was lifeless. Everything and everyone that had once been familiar had turned into ashes in the fire.

Zhao Xue gasped for air as she ran through the crumbling buildings, scrambling to dodge falling debris in a miserable panic.

A sudden gust of wind blew past—bringing with it the familiar bitter scent of medicine and the faint sweetness of licorice—but also something foreign and terrifying: the sharp stench of blood. Zhao Xue’s vision blurred, and she fell to the ground. Her palm was cut by a shard of rubble, fresh blood seeping out in sharp red contrast.

That gust of wind passed right by her.

In the blinding light, Zhao Xue looked up—and saw the boy.

A familiar face. Beautiful, cat-like eyes. Long, dark hair with slightly curled ends, a braid tucked behind his ear, a silver longevity lock around his neck, the hem of his robe in a deep violet-red.

He walked past her fallen, disheveled self among the broken rubble, casting her a glance from above.

It was a look she had never seen before—unfamiliar and cold.

He looked at her as if she were a stranger. A bug, and unworthy of attention or pity.

Zhao Xue felt her throat tighten. She opened her mouth, trying to call his name.

“Xue Shou.”

But she couldn’t make a sound. People in dreams couldn’t speak.

The boy gave her one light glance. He didn’t stop for even a moment. The hem of his violet-red robe vanished from her sight.

The crushing pressure lifted, and Zhao Xue collapsed to her knees, gasping heavily, eyes wide open.

She woke from the nightmare.

The afternoon sunlight was glaring. Her back was drenched in cold sweat, and her face was pale.

That cold, emotionless look was still etched vividly in her mind. His eyes had nearly pierced through her.

Before she could recover from that gaze, a small, coiled tree twig fell and hit her forehead.

A second and third quickly followed, bouncing off her head and landing on her face. The fresh scent of the newly picked twigs carried the same bitter medicinal scent unique to the boy, drifting into her nose.

Zhao Xue wiped her sweat and looked up.

Narrowing her eyes, through the circular frame of the twig, she saw the hem of a violet-red robe hidden among the green leaves—and those eyes she had seen so clearly in her dream.

Her heart trembled violently. Only then did she come back to her senses—

This wasn’t a dream.

Against the brilliant sunlight, a teenage boy was sitting in the tree.

The boy had delicate features and fair skin. His hair was braided, and he wore purple clothing. He sat cross-legged, one hand resting on the trunk, tilting his head slightly like a cat, innocently watching Zhao Xue from above. The small longevity lock around his neck swayed with his movements, catching the light and flashing brightly as it peeked in and out between the folds of his collar.

Just moments ago, in her dream, he had looked at her like she was an insect. Now, he was playfully teasing the sleeping her with twigs—pure and harmless.

“Had enough fun?”

“……”

The boy lightly jumped down from the tree in just a few agile moves, landing softly on the tips of his toes in front of Zhao Xue. Along with him, a black cat also leapt from the tree, its four white paws stepping nimbly through the branches. With a graceful jump, it landed right into Zhao Xue’s arms.

Zhao Xue’s mood, for once, eased a little. “Ta Xue!”

Ta Xue rubbed its head against her palm, its ears flicking, tail curling as it settled into the crook of her arm for a nap.

“I figured you’d want to see it.”

The boy was like a wild animal walking freely through the forest—bearing a natural, unrestrained aura, unbound by rules or conventions.

Zhao Xue glanced at him.

Ji Xue Shou—one of the four male leads in the novel.

As the youngest son of the influential Ji family, he was the most doted-on in the household. Like Zhao Xue, he had been frail since birth—a constant user of medicine. Because of this, even though he showed incredible talent in cultivation, the Ji family couldn’t bear to send him away to a sect too early and instead kept him home for several years to nourish his health.

He was born in early spring, during a snowfall. His mother named him “Shou” (longevity), hoping he would live a blessed, long, and healthy life.

As a child, Ji Xue Shou had been withdrawn and disliked socializing. What he did most often was sneak over the wall into the Shen residence to sit with Zhao Xue, feeling the breeze or playing chess. Sometimes, he even had Zhao Xue help him drink his bitter medicine, and the two of them would listen to the elders’ nagging and scolding together.

They had shared “hardships” for many years and built a deep bond, which was exactly why the ending in the dream had hurt Zhao Xue so much.

Zhao Xue closed the pop-up hint identifying him as a male lead.

If the current Ji Xue Shou before her was a cat, then the one in her dream was a shadowy predator—cold and ruthless.

Even though none of that had happened yet, Zhao Xue still couldn’t shake the lingering fear from the dream.

“Zhao Yang is back today. Why didn’t you go see her?” Zhao Xue asked.

“Too many people.”

Ji Xue Shou kept it short and to the point. He was always lazy and quiet—if he could say it in two words, he would never bother with a third.

“Then why did you come find me? Just to bring Ta Xue to see me?”

Zhao Xue lowered her head and scratched the black cat’s fluffy chin.

“…To bring you back to the banquet.”

Ji Xue Shou glanced at the black cat.

“Did Madam ask you to come?”

“Mm.”

“…” Zhao Xue turned her face away, pulled her knees up, and hugged her legs. “I don’t want to go back.”

She murmured softly, “…Too many people.”

After a moment, the boy didn’t leave. Instead, he straightened the hem of his robe and sat down beside Zhao Xue. The two of them disappeared together beneath the shade of the trees.

“…Aren’t you going back?”

“I’ll stay here.”

“Won’t your mother be angry? She doesn’t like you coming to play with me.”

“It’s fine.”

Ji Xue Shou rested his cheek on his knee, turned his face toward her, strands of hair falling by his ear and swaying gently in the wind as he looked at her. “I want to be with you.”

Zhao Xue looked into the boy’s eyes and froze. Those eyes started to overlap with the ones from her dream.

—”Move aside.” That’s what he said in the dream.

The same concise words, void of emotion. Deep, cold, and innocent eyes—like those of a reptile.

At that time, she hadn’t existed in his eyes at all.

Zhao Xue suddenly felt it hard to breathe, as if something was pressing down on her chest, suffocating and painful.

She clutched the front of her clothes, turned her head away, and no longer looked at Ji Xue Shou.

The black cat in her arms seemed to sense her shift in mood and let out a soft, purring rumble.

“I’m not delusional.”

The girl’s voice rang out. “You came to find me… but it was actually for my eldest sister, wasn’t it?”

Ji Xue Shou paused slightly.

The sword tassel he had been secretly holding in his palm for a long time loosened during that moment of distraction. It fell against the gray stone steps with a crisp clang.