The soft rustling of curtains and faint chirping of early birds stirred Bai Zhiqi from sleep. She blinked slowly, eyes adjusting to the gentle morning light that poured in from the floor-to-ceiling windows.
Gone were the cracked ceilings and damp air of her old house. In their place was a room bathed in muted luxury—light gray walls, ivory bedding, and furniture so polished it reflected her silhouette.
For a moment, she thought she was dreaming.
She sat up slowly, the sheets slipping from her shoulders. Her body felt heavy, not from sleep, but from the weight of change. The deal had been made. And she was no longer the same woman who lived in shadows.
As she swung her legs over the side of the bed, the door creaked open gently.
Startled, her head snapped toward the sound.
A small, timid girl in a black-and-white uniform stood hesitantly in the doorway, head bowed. She looked no older than twenty, with soft features and her hair pulled into a neat bun. A silver name tag gleamed on her chest: *Xiao Lin*.
"I-I'm sorry to disturb you, Miss Bai…" she said, voice barely above a whisper. "I came to check if you're awake."
Bai Zhiqi studied her. The girl wasn't bold or robotic like most high-end staff. She was nervous—genuinely so.
"You're not Ji Yanluo," Zhiqi said flatly.
The maid flinched a little but nodded. "N-no, Miss Bai. Master Ji left early for the office. He asked that you be taken care of until he returns."
Zhiqi exhaled. Of course he did. He was the kind of man who moved pieces even in his absence.
"I've brought your clothes," Xiao Lin said quickly, stepping inside and placing a neatly folded outfit on the chair near the vanity. "And breakfast is ready in the dining room whenever you're ready. Would you like me to help you freshen up?"
Zhiqi looked at her, then down at her calloused hands—hands that had once played symphonies, then scrubbed concrete floors for five years. She shook her head.
"No. I'm not broken," she said softly. "I can dress myself."
Xiao Lin flushed and bowed quickly. "Of course, Miss Bai. I-I didn't mean—"
"I know," Zhiqi cut in, not unkindly.
The girl lingered, fidgeting.
Zhiqi raised an eyebrow. "Is there something else?"
The maid bit her lip. "Only that... I just wanted to say... I admire you."
Zhiqi blinked.
Xiao Lin looked up briefly, face red. "I was only fifteen when... when your case was on the news. I—I never believed the things they said about you. And when I heard you were staying here, I just..." She trailed off, head bowing lower. "I'm sorry, I spoke out of line—"
"No." Zhiqi stood, walking toward her slowly. "Thank you."
The maid looked up, surprised.
Bai Zhiqi gave a small, rare smile. "Not many people say that to me anymore."
Xiao Lin's expression softened with something like hope.
"You said breakfast?" Zhiqi asked, brushing her hair back as she moved to the vanity.
"Yes, Miss. I'll prepare the table now."
Zhiqi waited until she left before exhaling deeply and meeting her own reflection in the mirror. Her eyes were sharper than yesterday. Her spine straighter. The weight in her chest, though still heavy, was laced with something new.
Purpose.
She dressed slowly, slipping into the fresh clothes. Simple but elegant—Ji Yanluo's taste, clearly. Not a word from him, but everything around her screamed control and precision.
Once ready, she stepped out into the pristine hallway. Everything was silent, as if the building itself held its breath for its master's return.
She didn't need a red carpet or an apology.
She just needed her chance.
And Ji Yanluo had given her a door.
Now, she'd walk through it with her head high—because the woman who once played for emperors and was thrown into a dungeon wasn't gone.
She was awake.
And she was hungry.
For redemption.
For revenge.