In front of her stood a woman who looked exactly like herself—same face, same features—but impeccably dressed, her makeup exquisite, every strand of hair perfectly in place.
“Su Wanqing.” The woman’s red lips parted slightly.
Su Wanqing couldn’t tell whether she was introducing herself or greeting her.
“Who are you?”
“I am you. And you are me.”
Su Wanqing frowned. “You’re the one controlling my consciousness, aren’t you?”
The woman raised an eyebrow. “That’s not important.”
Su Wanqing’s expression sharpened. “You’re the novel’s villainess, Su Wanqing?”
The woman smiled. “Yes. That’s right. But now, you have to live on in my identity.”
“And you?” Su Wanqing asked.
The woman clearly paused for a moment. “I naturally have my own place to go.”
Su Wanqing frowned. “So you’re asking me to replace you? Will you return to this body?”
“No,” the woman said slowly. “You’re only living under my identity. You are not me. And this is not a dream. Everything you’ve experienced—including your family—is real.”
“My parents…” Su Wanqing hurriedly said.
“Parallel worlds,” the woman interrupted. “Can you understand that?”
Su Wanqing hesitated. “Then… were your actions controlled by the plot?”
The woman replied, “Yes and no. Everyone has different choices. I took the wrong path and dragged innocent people into it. I deserve punishment.”
She smiled faintly again. “Not everyone born into wealth has a clear mind. The more one has, the more one desires to grasp things that don’t belong to them. Besides, we are merely characters created within a story. A villainess in a novel, once she develops desire, it grows wildly in her heart. As for those childish and absurd schemes… from my perspective, they are laughable. They were never truly my intention. But I couldn’t change anything.”
Su Wanqing pressed her lips together. “Then will I still be controlled by the plot like the others?”
The woman shook her head. “A calm lake only needs a single stone to create great ripples. Once the surface is no longer still, the original order breaks. It will no longer follow the same path.”
Su Wanqing frowned slightly. “Then what is my purpose?”
The woman curved her red lips. “What you see, what you experience—it is not a dream. You are not some ‘paper character.’ Perhaps your existence will change this story-like life. What you’re worried about is only that you think you replaced me. But you are you. You are not me. And you have not replaced me.”
“Alright,” she said softly. “It’s time for you to go back.”
“Wait—!”
Su Wanqing suddenly opened her eyes.
Outside, dawn had already broken. Morning light seeped through the gaps in the curtains, spilling across the dark floor.
She sat up and rubbed her aching temples, suddenly remembering something. She grabbed the remote and opened the curtains. Light flooded in, filling the entire room.
She walked to the dressing table and looked at her reflection—strange yet familiar. She parted the black hair covering the corner of her eye.
A small red tear mole was revealed.
She remembered clearly: on the day she first transmigrated here, that mole did not exist. Her skin was already very fair, so the faint red mark at the corner of her eye would have been impossible to miss.
Su Wanqing walked to the bedside, pulled open the drawer, and took out the marriage certificate. She flipped it open.
On it, her face looked elegant and refined—but the tiny red mole at the corner of her eye was clearly there.
“…Parallel worlds…” she murmured.