The road to the old Bai Villa twisted through forgotten hills, lined with the skeletons of trees that had long stopped growing. It had been eight years since Bai Xueyi last saw the place. Back then, it was filled with laughter, sunlight, and the faint smell of her mother's jasmine tea. Now it was a graveyard of ghosts and rain.
Her hands tightened on the steering wheel as the gates came into view—rusted, overgrown with ivy, still bearing the faint outline of the Bai family crest.
Beside her, Mo Liuxian sat silent, watching her face instead of the road.
"You don't have to go in," he said quietly.
"I do," she replied. "I need to see where the lies began."
The villa loomed before them, windows shattered, roof half-collapsed. Inside, the air was thick with dust and memories. Their footsteps echoed across the marble floor, the same one where she'd taken her first steps as a child.
Every corner whispered stories she had buried: the grand piano her mother used to play, the cracked mirror her father brought from France, the hallway where she'd waited for a father who never came home.
"It's like time stopped here," Liuxian murmured.
"Time doesn't stop," she said. "It hides."
Her gaze fell on the staircase—burn marks still scarred the railing. The fire that had "killed" her had started here. But now, standing inside the ruins, she could feel it—the air was wrong. The fire hadn't started by accident.
She crouched, brushing away ash and debris until her fingers touched metal. A switch, hidden beneath the floorboards.
"What is that?" Liuxian asked.
"A control node," she whispered. "This house was wired."
She pressed the switch. A section of the floor slid open with a low groan, revealing a stairway descending into darkness.
The underground chamber smelled of rust and machinery. Faint blue lights flickered along the walls. Rows of monitors lined the far end, long dead but still humming faintly with residual power.
And in the center—a glass pod.
Empty. But her name was etched across it: Project Bride – Subject Zero.
Her breath caught. "This… this was never just a home."
Liuxian's face hardened. "They built the experiment under your childhood house."
She walked to the console, wiping dust from the surface. A light blinked on.
A message appeared on the screen:
PROJECT FILE: BAI MING AUTHORIZED ACCESS ONLY.
WELCOME BACK, XUEYI.
Her heart stopped. "He knew I'd come."
Suddenly, the monitors flickered to life—one by one. A video feed appeared: her uncle, Bai Ming, sitting in a dimly lit office, calm and composed.
"My dear niece," he said, his voice smooth and measured. "If you're watching this, it means you've survived. Good. You always were resilient."
Xueyi's fists clenched.
"Do you know why Aurora exists?" Bai Ming continued. "Not for profit. Not for control. For evolution. Humanity wastes itself on emotion—love, grief, loyalty. I simply removed them from the equation. You were my proof."
"You used me," she hissed.
"No," the recording said, almost tenderly. "I rebuilt you. You were supposed to be perfect. And then you met Mo Liuxian… and ruined the experiment."
Her eyes burned. "You turned my life into a test tube."
"A successful one," he said. "Until you fell in love."
Liuxian stepped closer, his hand brushing her shoulder. "He's trying to break you."
She stared at the screen, trembling. "He already did."
"Don't let him finish," Liuxian said firmly. "He's dead to you now."
But the monitor flashed again—LIVE FEED.
Bai Ming's voice deepened. "You think I'm gone, but I'm very much alive. And I'm not hiding, my dear. You are. Come to me, and I'll show you what you were truly meant to become."
The feed cut to black.
For a long moment, neither moved. The chamber was silent except for the hum of dying machines.
"He's alive," she whispered. "And he wants me to find him."
"That means he's afraid of you," Liuxian said.
She turned to him slowly. "Or it means he's still controlling the game."
He met her gaze. "Then we flip the board."
She nodded once. "We end this. No more running, no more experiments, no more ghosts."
He stepped closer, his voice low. "Then say it, Xueyi. Not for me—say it for yourself."
She closed her eyes, inhaled, and said,
"I am not your subject. I am not your weapon. I am not your bride. I am Bai Xueyi—and I choose my own story."
The words filled the chamber, and for the first time in years, she felt the weight lift.
But somewhere above, thunder cracked—and a faint red light began blinking on the control panel.
"What is that?" Liuxian asked.
"A security trigger," she said. "We tripped the system."
The sound of engines roared outside. Headlights flared through the broken windows.
Dozens of black SUVs surrounded the villa. Men in tactical armor spilled out—Aurora's private security.
Liuxian's hand went to his gun. "We're outnumbered."
"Then we don't fight them here," she said.
"Where do we go?"
She looked at the glass pod with her name on it, her reflection staring back—strong, unbroken, alive.
"To where they least expect me," she said. "Back into the light."
She grabbed his hand. "We run now. But next time—we make them run."
They burst out of the villa as bullets tore through the walls. The night exploded with light and thunder. But in Xueyi's eyes burned something brighter than fear—purpose.
Behind them, the Bai Villa collapsed in flames.
And from the burning wreckage, a single red beacon continued to flash—
PROJECT REBOOT: SUBJECT ZERO — REACTIVATED.