Xia Yu returned home with measured steps, the weight of her backpack a comforting reminder of the new path she had chosen. The modest house looked the same as it always had—faded paint, overgrown weeds in the yard, and an atmosphere thick with resentment. In her previous life, she had tiptoed through these halls like a ghost, desperate to avoid notice. Today, she walked with her head high.
The moment she stepped inside, a vase shattered against the wall beside her head. Sharp fragments sprayed across the floor, and a piece grazed her forehead, drawing a thin line of blood.
"You bitch! Where have you been?" Xia Junhao roared, his face flushed with alcohol and fury. He loomed in the doorway to the living room, eyes bloodshot. "I've been waiting here starving while you wander around like some useless stray!"
Xia Yu touched the cut on her forehead calmly, as if the sting were nothing more than a mosquito bite. The pain was familiar—almost nostalgic in its insignificance compared to what she had endured at the end of her last life. She lowered her gaze obediently, the picture of a cowed daughter.
"I just took a walk, Father. I'm sorry."
Her voice was steady, lacking the tremor it once held. Xia Junhao narrowed his eyes, sensing something off but unable to pinpoint it. He waved a dismissive hand.
"Get in the kitchen and make something edible. And hurry up—the in-laws will be here in a week to discuss your marriage. Don't you dare embarrass me, you wretched girl. I've raised you all these years. It's time you repaid that debt."
Xia Yu's lips pressed into a thin line as she moved past him. *Raised me?* The word was a bitter joke. After his wife's death, he had turned his grief into cruelty, blaming her for every misfortune. The beatings, the insults, the constant reminders that she was ugly, worthless, and unwanted. In her last life, she had endured it all, hoping one day he might see her as family.
Never again.
She cooked quickly—steaming grilled beef and fried rice, simple but fragrant. When she set the bowl before him, Xia Junhao grunted and began eating without thanks. Xia Yu glanced at the clock. She still had time.
"I'm going to work," she said quietly, grabbing her backpack again.
Xia Junhao didn't even look up. "Don't come back late."
---
Cherry Pavilion was a modest café known for its cozy atmosphere and discreet staff. Xia Yu had worked there part-time for over a year in her previous life, enduring the disdain of her boss and customers alike. Today, she arrived with blood still drying on her forehead.
"You're late," the manager snapped the moment she entered the staff area. Then her eyes landed on Xia Yu's face. "What the hell? Are you trying to scare away customers with that hideous look?"
"I'm sorry, Ms. Ning," Xia Yu replied evenly. "I'll clean it up."
In the washroom mirror, she stared at her reflection once more. The pale, acne-scarred face. The dull hair. The girl who had hidden herself away, believing ugliness was safer than attention. Blood trickled down her temple, mixing with the water as she washed it away.
*Everything feels so surreal,* she thought. One moment she had been dying in agony, zombies tearing into her flesh. The next, she was here—alive, with knowledge that could rewrite her fate. A cold smirk touched her lips.
She wouldn't waste this chance hiding anymore.
Xia Yu dried her face and walked out with purpose. Ms. Ning was giving instructions to the other staff. Xia Yu approached her directly.
"Ms. Ning."
Her boss turned, disdain flashing openly across her features at the sight of Xia Yu's still-damp, ordinary appearance.
"I'm sorry, but I have to quit," Xia Yu said, keeping her voice soft and pitiful on the surface. "There's too much going on at home right now. Thank you for everything during my time here."
She bowed deeply.
Ms. Ning stood dumbfounded. She had always looked down on the plain, quiet girl, expecting her to cling desperately to the job. "You… you're quitting? Just like that?"
Xia Yu straightened, her eyes calm and resolute as she turned away. "Yes. Goodbye."
Outside, she sat on a bench by the roadside, the afternoon sun warming her skin. Two months until the apocalypse. Time was short but sufficient if she acted decisively.
First priority: change her appearance. No more hiding behind deliberate plainness. A woman who wanted to survive—and thrive—needed every advantage. Second: secure independent housing and supplies. Third: investigate Qin Bai and Yang Ling more thoroughly. And somewhere in all of this, the mysterious marriage her adoptive father kept pushing.
She stood, resolve hardening. A quick stop at a pharmacy for basic skincare and a hair salon for a transformation would be the start. But she needed money.
As if the thought had summoned him, her phone buzzed with a message from her adoptive father—an unusually civil one.
**Come home. We need to talk.**
---
Back at the house the next morning, Xia Yu prepared breakfast with quiet efficiency. The aroma of fresh congee and side dishes filled the kitchen. She had woken early, her mind already mapping out supply lists: non-perishable foods, medications, weapons that could be acquired legally now, and a secure location outside the city.
Xia Junhao entered the kitchen and stopped short, staring at her. The girl before him seemed… different. Her posture was straighter. Her movements more confident. Even her skin looked slightly less dull.
He shook his head, chalking it up to too much drink the night before. Still, a calculating glint entered his eyes. If she could clean up well, the marriage arrangement might yield even more benefits.
"You've changed your appearance," he noted, sitting down. "Good. The in-laws are coming soon. You'd better win them over. If you ruin this, I'll beat you until you wish you were dead. I don't care about your feelings for that Qin boy. This marriage is happening."
Xia Yu served him without comment, her expression neutral. Inside, contempt boiled. *Money. That's all you've ever cared about.*
She decided to test the waters. "I have a request. The families are meeting in a week. I need time and space to prepare myself properly. I can't do that here with… distractions. I'd like to stay at the second villa for a while."
Xia Junhao paused mid-bite, suspicion warring with greed. Staying alone meant expenses. But refusing could jeopardize the lucrative match.
After a long moment, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a bank card. "Fine. Just this once. Visit me every two days. Use this for whatever you need—clothes, makeup, whatever makes you presentable. Don't disappoint me."
Xia Yu stared at the card, momentarily stunned. In her last life, he had never shown even this much "generosity." It was all calculation, of course. He saw her as an investment now.
She took the card with steady fingers, pushing down the old ache of longing for a real father's love. That dream had died with her in the streets surrounded by zombies.
"Thank you," she said coldly, then went upstairs to pack.
Standing at the threshold of the house, she took one last look back. Xia Junhao watched her with greedy satisfaction.
She turned away without another word and walked toward her future.
*First, a new look. Then supplies. Then… I start dismantling your lives.*
Unbeknownst to her, the sleek black car from yesterday followed at a discreet distance. Inside, Fu Chen leaned back against the seat, fingers tapping thoughtfully on his knee.
"Keep watching," he ordered quietly. "She's more interesting than I expected."