Chapter 1: The Collision of Worlds

Haein clutched her notebook tightly as the train rattled along the tracks. The familiar scent of ink and old paper mingled with the faint hum of the train carriage. She muttered under her breath, “So many plot twists… how do they even act this out?” Her eyes skimmed the margins she’d scribbled with translations, cross-referencing lines from the drama script.

The cramped train restroom offered little comfort. Haein leaned over the sink, scanning passages in the novel that inspired her translation notes. Then, without warning, the train lurched violently, throwing her against the wall.

“Ouch! Jinjja… what the—” she exclaimed, gripping the sink for balance. The door rattled, refusing to open. Another sudden roll of the train sent her head crashing against the porcelain. Stars exploded in front of her eyes, and darkness swallowed everything.

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When Haein opened her eyes again, the air smelled different—softer, scented with flowers she didn’t recognize. Sunlight poured through tall, latticed windows, casting intricate patterns across a silk robe that now clung to her body.

“What… what is this?” she whispered, staring at her reflection in a polished mirror. Her chestnut hair was swept up into a traditional style she didn’t recognize, and the robe felt heavy and unfamiliar. Panic gripped her chest. She scrambled out of the chamber, stumbling over the smooth wooden floor, until she reached the courtyard.

Around her, servants and guards paused to stare. Her cheeks burned. She pinched them, and the sting confirmed that this was no dream.

A young maid approached cautiously. “Milady… are you feeling unwell?”

Haein’s voice wavered. “I… who am I? What year is this? Where… where is my family?”

The maid hesitated, then answered politely, careful not to anger her. “You are Xiu Ying, daughter of the Xiu family. This is the Qing Dynasty, milady. Please, try to calm yourself.”

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Meanwhile, in another wing of the mansion, the real Xiu Ying had tumbled over a large stone near the garden, unconscious, oblivious to the confusion unfolding with Haein inhabiting her body.

Back in the palace, Haein/Xiu Ying tried to absorb her new reality. Names, faces, titles—all poured over her like an overwhelming tide. “Xiu family… mother, father, siblings… I’m… someone else?” she whispered, pinching her arm again, as though proving her own existence.

The maid, glancing nervously at her, added softly, “Before, milady… you were… difficult. You had strong opinions and little patience with others. Please… try to understand our ways.”

Haein swallowed hard. If she was truly Xiu Ying, she had no choice but to play the part—at least for now.

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Meanwhile, Zhao Tian, the young king, was attending to his royal duties. He mediated disputes, signed decrees, and moved with the calm authority that had earned him respect throughout the palace. His younger brother, Zhao Keyi, stormed in, a smirk tugging at his lips.

“Brother, have you seen Xiu Ying today? She’s… different. Very different.”

Zhao Tian’s eyes flicked toward the courtyard. “Keyi… do not speak so freely. She has her traits. I will observe myself.”

Zhao Chen and the loyal guard Li Bai exchanged amused glances, quietly watching the brothers’ bickering unfold like clockwork.

Elsewhere, the concubine Yan Bai received news of the “memory-lost” Xiu Ying, a glint of calculation in her eyes. Zhao Tian’s parents, aware of the situation, discussed marriage prospects and the king’s heart, noting his unwavering focus on duty rather than romance.

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By evening, Haein/Xiu Ying ventured with her maid to the market. Every vibrant stall, every clamor of voices filled her with awe. She moved like a child discovering a new world, testing her limits with curiosity, delighting in small discoveries, and driving her maid quietly mad with the endless questions.

“Look! What is that? Can we try it? Oh… I need to remember the names of my family!” she whispered, grinning like a mischievous child.

From a nearby teahouse, Zhao Tian noticed her immediately. The girl, Xiu Ying—or whoever she truly was—moved with a kind of grace and curiosity that made her seem unlike the spoiled daughter he knew.

He held a small sketch of her from earlier in the courtyard and smirked. “Interesting,” he murmured, as his gaze lingered on her in the bustling market.

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That night, Haein/Xiu Ying returned to the mansion, offering small gifts to the staff—a gesture of warmth and sincerity. Confused but pleased, the household accepted them, noting the stark contrast with the real Xiu Ying’s formerly spoiled demeanor.

And in the shadows, Zhao Tian’s smirk lingered. He had no doubt now that this girl—this Xiu Ying—was unlike anyone he had ever met.

End of Chapter 1.

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