Li Yue sat rigidly on the strange cushioned chair, her back straight, hands delicately folded in her lap.
She had spent the last few hours trying to make sense of her surroundings, wandering the streets of this world, absorbing what little she could without drawing too much attention.
It had been a waking nightmare.
And now, she was expected to have a conversation with someone who knew this body—someone who knew Song Rui.
"I must be careful."
Across from her sat a man with sharp, intelligent eyes, his gaze scanning her with a quiet intensity that made her stomach twist.
His name was Xiang Zhen.
She had gathered that he was her superior—Song Rui's superior.
And he was already suspicious.
Xiang Zhen leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, expression unreadable.
"You're acting weird, Song Rui."
His tone was light, but his gaze was heavy—studying her, measuring her.
Li Yue swallowed.
How he looked at her reminded her of her father's advisors—men who could smell deceit the moment they entered the room.
"Stay calm. Do not panic."
She let out a soft breath and nodded, carefully choosing her words.
"I… apologize," she said, her voice steady but too formal, too careful. "I have not been feeling well."
Xiang Zhen arched a brow.
Not good.
She had already made a mistake.
Her speech—too proper, too controlled.
Song Rui must not speak like this.
"I must correct it. I must sound natural."
She forced herself to loosen her posture, slouching slightly the way she had seen others do.
She added a small, hesitant smile—practicing the ease of a woman who belonged here.
"I mean, uh—" She cleared her throat. "I just haven't been feeling great. Maybe I ate something bad."
Xiang Zhen tilted his head, unimpressed.
"You don't get sick easily," he said. "And you never sit that straight."
Li Yue froze.
Another mistake.
"This man is sharp. Too sharp."
She forced herself to lean back into the chair, copying the way she had seen modern people sit—casual, relaxed.
But the posture felt unnatural like she was a marionette trying to mimic human movement.
Xiang Zhen tapped his fingers against the desk, watching her closely.
"Okay," he said slowly. "What's my favorite drink?"
Li Yue's stomach dropped.
What?
"He's testing me."
She fought to keep her expression neutral, her mind racing.
She had no idea.
She knew nothing about this man—nothing about Song Rui's past, her habits, her relationships.
She had only woken up in this body a few hours ago.
How was she supposed to know the answer?
She took a breath.
There was only one thing she could do.
Lie.
She smiled slightly, tilting her head as if amused.
"Ah, is this a game?" she said smoothly, forcing a playful tone. "Why don't you tell me if I'm right or wrong?"
Xiang Zhen's eyes narrowed slightly.
"You always know it," he said, his voice carrying an edge. "Try."
Li Yue's heart pounded.
"Think. Think."
She had seen a cup on his desk earlier—half-finished, dark liquid, a faint bitter scent.
Coffee.
She had heard someone on the street mention the word.
It was a risk, but she had no choice.
She let out a soft chuckle, trying to sound natural.
"Well, obviously, it's coffee," she said lightly. "What else would it be?"
Xiang Zhen didn't respond immediately.
His gaze remained locked onto hers, unblinking.
Then, after what felt like an eternity—
"Yeah," he said. "It is."
Li Yue barely stopped herself from exhaling in relief.
But the way he said it—it was not agreement.
It was observation.
Xiang Zhen leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk.
"Alright," he said, voice still casual. "Let's talk about the Lin Cheng case."
Li Yue stiffened.
The what?
She cursed herself internally.
She had no idea what he was referring to—no knowledge of this world's affairs, no recollection of who Lin Cheng was.
And yet, Song Rui clearly should know.
"Think fast."
She let out a soft breath and tilted her head, keeping her expression neutral.
"Why don't you start?" she said smoothly. "Just to make sure we're on the same page."
Xiang Zhen's lips curled slightly.
"You don't forget details," he said. "You've been obsessed with this case for months. Now, suddenly, you want me to remind you?"
Li Yue's pulse roared in her ears.
Another mistake.
"This man is dangerous."
She had to retreat—regain control of the conversation.
She smiled slightly, pretending to rub her temple in frustration as if nursing a headache.
"I told you, I'm not feeling well," she said, injecting irritation into her tone. "My mind's a mess today."
Xiang Zhen exhaled slowly, studying her.
For the first time since the conversation started, he leaned back.
The tension in the room shifted slightly.
Not gone—but no longer razor-sharp.
Li Yue knew she had barely escaped.
Xiang Zhen sighed.
"Fine," he said. "I'll send you a recap. But get some rest, Song Rui. You're acting…"
He trailed off, eyes scanning her face again.
"Strange."
Li Yue forced a small, easy laugh.
"Yeah, yeah," she said, mimicking the way she had heard modern people speak. "I'll be fine after some sleep."
Xiang Zhen didn't look convinced.
But he didn't push further.
He simply stood up, his sharp gaze lingering on her for just a second too long.
"See you tomorrow," he said.
Li Yue nodded, keeping her expression carefully composed.
Only when he finally left the room did she allow herself to exhale.
Li Yue closed her eyes for a moment, her mind racing.
This world—this body—it was a battlefield.
Every word, every movement, every mistake could reveal her.
And Xiang Zhen…
He was already watching.
She had survived this time.
But how long before she slipped again?
And when she did—what would he do to her then?
She had no choice.
She had to learn. Fast.
Because if she didn't—
She would not survive.