Hua Jing’s eyes fluttered open.

She blinked once. Then again.

For a moment, her mind was blank—floating somewhere between sleep and confusion. Then slowly, her senses began to return.

A faint, rhythmic beep echoed in the background.

Beep... beep... beep...

She stared at the ceiling, but her vision was still hazy. Her head felt heavy, like it was filled with fog, and her mouth was painfully dry.

She shifted slightly—and that’s when she felt it.

The tug on her arm.

She looked down slowly.

There was an IV line taped to the back of her hand. The tube snaked its way to a fluid bag hanging beside her. A pulse monitor wrapped tightly around her finger. Her arm was pale and felt strangely stiff, like it hadn’t been moved in a long time.

What...?

She turned her head.

There was a machine quietly humming beside the bed. Another small monitor flashed her vitals in gentle green lights. Everything was quiet—too quiet.

No nurses. No bustling hallway. Just her... and the beeping.

She sat up slowly.

The sheets beneath her were clean and crisp. The room didn’t feel like a typical hospital—too peaceful, too personalized—but it was clear now. She was still in the modern world.

But this wasn’t the hospital room she remembered.

She remembered that one clearly—the sterile white walls, the antiseptic smell, the way the light buzzed above her.

This... this was different.

The floors were warm wood, the curtains a soft cream, gently swaying with the breeze. On a nearby table, fresh orchids and marigolds sat in a glass vase. Still dewy. Still alive.

Her heart clenched.

They were her favorites.

She reached out to touch one, but her hand trembled halfway and dropped back to the bed. Her muscles weren’t ready.

It felt like her body had forgotten how to move.

She closed her eyes and tried to breathe through the tightness in her chest. Her fingers clutched the edge of the blanket as a deep shiver ran down her spine.

How long had she been asleep?

The last thing she remembered...

The coronation.

Then Zhao Yan’s face, sleeping beside her.

Her whispering something about a honeymoon. Just the two of them.

And now...

Now, she was here.

In a soft room.

With flowers.

With machines softly beeping.

Alone.

Her eyes darted toward the door. It was slightly ajar. The air smelled fresh, like rain and something warm. Not hospital air.

Was she transferred?

Why didn’t anyone tell her?

But then again, how could anyone tell her?

She had been in coma after all...

Why wasn’t he here?

She swallowed hard. Her voice felt stuck in her throat, but in the silence of the room, she managed a whisper—barely audible, like it wasn’t meant for anyone but herself.

"Where... where am I?"

Hua Jing sat still for a moment longer, steadying her breath.

Then, slowly, she pushed the blanket off her legs and tried to sit up fully. Her limbs trembled with the effort. Her arms felt like they were made of sandbags—heavy, foreign, useless.

Her feet touched the ground.

Cold.

She hissed slightly. Every nerve screamed at the contact, but she didn’t stop.

One hand braced the IV pole, the other reached for the nearest surface—a bedside chair. Her knees buckled once before she caught herself.

This body... it didn’t feel like hers.

Not anymore.

She took one cautious step. Then another.

The floor was smooth, polished. She stared down at her feet, at her own thin ankles, her hospital gown brushing lightly at her knees.

How long had she been gone?

Every step forward sent a new wave of ache and confusion through her.

Her muscles protested. Her joints cracked with stiffness. Her skin felt tight over her bones. Yet she kept walking.

The room was elegant—beyond anything she had imagined. The walls were painted in soft, calming hues. The curtains were embroidered with delicate threads. The scent of orchids still clung to the air, grounding her.

It was... her taste.

Every flower, every curtain, every rug—it all screamed her.

She turned slowly, eyes scanning the room again.

Who...?

Her heart skipped.

The Hua family wouldn’t have done this. Not after what they’d said. Not after the accident. They hadn’t even liked her before—let alone after everything had turned upside down.

So who had gone this far?

Who would decorate a room like this?

Who would keep her alive?

Her mind ran.

Her breath caught.

No.

It couldn’t be him.

Not here.

Not in this world.

Fu Jing Rong was her enemy.

That had always been the truth.

Even if... even if there was another version of him—another soul—one who had looked at her like she was his entire world...

Here, he was the enemy. There was no way it was him.

Still, the possibility crept in like a whisper.

She shook her head, fingers curling into fists.

It didn’t matter. Not now.

She made her way toward the door. Her hand hovered above the handle. The polished steel gleamed under the soft morning light.

She hesitated.

Then, slowly, she opened it.

The hallway outside was quiet, wide, bright. Marble floors. Digital panels. The sharp scent of clean air and the soft hum of something mechanical overhead.

She stepped forward.

And stopped.

A mirror stood by the wall—tall and full-length.

She stared at the reflection.

Pale skin. Hair messily falling around her face. Eyes sharp, confused, vulnerable.

She barely recognized herself.

She reached out and touched the glass, then dropped her hand.

It was strange... coming back.

The modern world was loud without sound. Sharp without danger. And beautiful in a way she hadn’t remembered.

It felt distant. Cold. Too real.

She took another breath.

She had left this world for so long... and now, it had welcomed her back with silent walls and orchids by her bed.

Why?

Who?

The answer was close.

But every time she tried to reach it, it suddenly vanished.

She looked around and saw the walls outside the room she had been in was made of glass making everything outside visible.

She noticed a sea of yellow flowers which she did not know what they were.

A smile suddenly lifted in her face as she slowly walked over in small steps

What she did not know was that after she left, chaos started!