Chapter 15: The Life That Was Never His

Jiàn Lian pulled the thread.

A mistake.

The moment his fingers closed around it—

The world convulsed.

The sky split apart like shattered glass. The ground beneath him cracked open into a bottomless void.

And in the silence—

He heard a voice.

Not Mei Rin’s. Not the boy’s.

His own.

But not from his lips.

From somewhere else.

"You should have let it go."

Jiàn Lian’s vision blurred. His body wasn’t his anymore.

His hands—his fingers—flickered.

Like he was the one being erased.

Panic clawed up his throat. "What is this?"

The boy—**his younger self—**smiled faintly.

"You're remembering too much."

Jiàn Lian’s heart pounded. The mist curled around them, thick, suffocating, pressing against his skin.

"You said this was my erased life," Jiàn Lian gritted out. "That Mei Rin and I had another fate—one that was undone."

The boy tilted his head. "I did."

Jiàn Lian’s fists clenched. "Then why—"

"Why does it feel like I was never meant to exist at all?"

Because something was wrong.

This wasn’t just an erased past.

It was something deeper. Something more unnatural.

The frayed thread in his grasp pulsed.

And suddenly—

He wasn’t standing in the void anymore.

He was in a different time. A different place.

A temple.

But not the one he remembered.

The air was thick with incense. The glow of lanterns flickered in the dim hall.

And before him—

A different version of himself knelt at an altar.

Jiàn Lian’s breath caught.

Not a memory. Not a vision.

This was real.

The other Jiàn Lian—**older, dressed in ceremonial robes—**placed an offering before the shrine.

And whispered a name.

"Mei Rin."

Jiàn Lian’s chest tightened.

This wasn't just his past.

This was someone else's life.

And then—

The real twist hit him.

Jiàn Lian had never been meant to exist.

He wasn’t just remembering an erased past.

He was remembering the life of someone else.

The body he lived in, the fate he carried—none of it was his.

He had taken the place of someone who should have lived instead.

And the price?

The world had started unraveling to fix the mistake.

Jiàn Lian stumbled back. His breathing was sharp, uneven.

No. No, this couldn't be real.

He clutched his chest, heart pounding against his ribs.

"Who am I?"

The younger boy appeared beside him again—his own face staring up at him with unreadable eyes.

"You still don’t understand?"

The incense burned heavier, suffocating. The temple flickered, like it was slipping between time.

The other Jiàn Lian at the altar raised his head.

And then—

He turned.

Jiàn Lian’s blood ran cold.

Because the man standing at the altar—the real Jiàn Lian—

Looked nothing like him.

Jiàn Lian’s knees buckled.

He wasn’t Jiàn Lian.

He never had been.

And the real Jiàn Lian?

He was still waiting for his fate to be returned.

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