Mu Hui had already accepted death.
After years spent working as an SSR-ranked assassin, surviving missions that should have killed her dozens of times, freedom was finally within reach. The explosion that ended her life was supposed to be the last thing she ever experienced.
Instead, she opened her eyes inside a novel she had read before.
That alone would have been bad enough, except she wasn’t the heroine or even an important side character. She had become the woman readers loved to hate, the one whose ending was so miserable that almost nobody remembered her name after finishing the story. Worse, she arrived after the original owner had already ruined everything. Confidential files had been stolen, loyalties had been betrayed, and the most dangerous man in the novel had every reason to believe Mu Hui had stabbed him in the back.
Running away crossed her mind for about three seconds.
An assassin learns quickly that escaping is impossible once every exit has already been blocked. If the original Mu Hui died because she kept chasing the male lead’s approval, then following the same script sounded like the fastest route to the grave. Faced with a situation that looked impossible to explain, she did the only thing she could think of.
She lied.
According to her new version of events, the betrayal had never been real. Everything was part of a plan, every suspicious action had another purpose, every dangerous choice had been made for the man standing in front of her. It was a reckless gamble, the kind that collapses the moment one wrong question is asked, yet somehow it bought her enough time to stay alive.
Time, however, creates problems of its own.
The longer Mu Hui remains beside Fu Siye, the harder it becomes to separate truth from the story she invented. The cold and ruthless villain described in the novel rarely behaves the way she remembers, while the people she once believed were trustworthy begin revealing motives that never appeared on the page. Even the future she thought she knew starts drifting away from the original plot.
For someone who survived by reading people instead of trusting them, that uncertainty is more dangerous than any weapon.
Changing the ending sounded easy when it was only words inside a novel. Living through it, with every lie demanding another lie and every decision pushing the story further off course, is something else entirely.
