Chapter 2: Awakening to a New Reality

"She's awake! The madam is awake! Stay here and watch her; I'll go make a call!"

Emily groaned softly, frowning as she rubbed her eyes. Yesterday, she and Jessica had pulled an all-nighter, submitting their final graduation design just in time before heading to a pub for a celebratory night out. The hangover left her head pounding, especially the back of her skull, which felt like it had been hit with a frying pan.

When she opened her eyes, she was momentarily disoriented and instinctively rubbed them again. As her surroundings came into focus, Emily's eyes slowly widened in shock.

She was lying in a luxurious room, on a king-sized bed. The room was decorated in a classic European style, and an inset fireplace on the opposite wall was still crackling with flames. The room was massive, with walls that stretched beyond her line of sight.

Jessica was nowhere to be seen. Instead, a young woman in a black-and-white uniform stood by her bedside.

Emily groggily scratched the top of her head, only to realize that the cowlick that usually stood up after she slept was gone. She paused, even more alarmed, as she ran her hands through her hair—her bangs were missing, and her shoulder-length hair had somehow grown down to her waist!

What the hell was going on?

Emily reached under her pillow and pulled out a phone. The screen lit up, and she stared at it, dumbfounded.

December 26, 2019.

2019???

Wasn't it just 2024 yesterday?

What the hell—had she just slept through five years?

"Madam," the young woman spoke softly, placing a pillow behind Emily's back, "please don't worry. Mrs. Chen is already contacting Mr. Ethan."

The girl stole a glance at Emily's expression, and seeing that the madam looked dazed rather than angry, she sighed with relief.

Emily was utterly confused.

Madam?

She was still offended when three-year-olds called her "auntie," so how had she suddenly become a "madam"?

"I heard Mr. Ethan has a lot of meetings these days," the maid continued, trying to reassure her, "but I'm sure he'll come to see you as soon as he's free."

"Ethan?" Emily tilted her head. "Which... Ethan?"

The maid straightened up, eyeing Emily with surprise. "Madam, you..."

Emily stared back at her, bewildered. Her gaze shifted slightly, and she caught sight of a magazine on the nightstand.

It was a copy of *Times Finance* with a sleek black cover. On it was a man in a well-tailored black suit, his features sharp and handsome, with deep-set eyes and a distant, unattainable air.

Beside the photo was a bold headline: *The Youngest Multi-Billionaire Tycoon—Ethan*.

Emily felt her heartbeat quicken.

Ethan!

She remembered the first time she had met Ethan. She hadn't been fifteen yet. Ethan had just graduated from Wharton School, composed, calm, and so poised that his face barely showed any emotion. At just over twenty, he was already as imposing as his father.

He had taken out a pen, carefully signed his name, and handed the document to her.

Emily had squinted and smiled as she took it, but her smile had quickly frozen.

Ethan had been about to speak when he noticed the young girl propping her chin on one hand and smiling up at him with clear almond-shaped eyes.

"Can I call you Brother Ethan?" she had asked, her tone playful.

Ethan's dark eyes had narrowed slightly, seemingly displeased. He had stared at her for a couple of seconds before the corners of his lips had twitched upward ever so slightly. He had then simply shaken his head, saying nothing.

Later that day, Emily had enthusiastically walked Ethan to the door, waving goodbye as she cheerfully called out, "Bye, Brother Ethan!"

...

Emily stared at the magazine cover for a long time before she finally processed what was happening.

No way. It couldn't be.

Had five years passed, and Brother Ethan had become her Ethan?

The maid had already left, leaving Emily feeling even more lost and frustrated. She tossed aside the blanket and jumped out of bed.

She wandered aimlessly around the large house, circling the room twice before heading for the door. Just as she was about to open it, she overheard a hushed conversation outside.

"... She's having trouble with Ethan again. In the end, we're the ones who suffer!"

It was the voice of the girl who had been taking care of her earlier.

"No matter what she does, it's pointless," another voice chimed in. "Everyone knows how Ethan feels about her. We call her 'Madam' just to save face."

Emily raised an eyebrow slightly.

"Exactly! I heard that earlier, she asked who Ethan was. Is she serious? What kind of game is she playing this time?"

"Let her be. She's not going to be around much longer in this house anyway."

"What do you mean?"

"I heard—" The speaker's voice lowered further, "I heard Ethan already asked her for a divorce!"

"Really? Really?"

Their tone was almost gleeful, as if they couldn't wait for it to happen.

Emily leaned in closer, listening with keen interest.

She almost forgot that the person they were gossiping about was her:）

"It's true. No matter how much she lowers herself, he stays the same. A divorce is inevitable!"

"Tsk, I agree. I always thought Charlotte was a better match for Ethan. Charlotte might not be as striking as the madam, but she has a great personality and is very smart—definitely better than this one."

"Yeah, but Charlotte's at a disadvantage, being a stepdaughter after her mom remarried into the Liang family. It's hard to compete with someone like the madam, who comes from a wealthy family."

"Tell me about it—"

The door suddenly swung open, and the two gossips jumped in fright.

Emily stood in the doorway, arms crossed, her almond-shaped eyes narrowed with amusement as she looked at them.

"M-Madam..." The two maids stammered, their faces paling as they realized they had been caught.

Emily's expression remained neutral as she watched them for a few seconds before smiling. "Could you get me a glass of water?"

The two maids exchanged nervous glances, neither of them daring to move.

"What's wrong?" Emily asked, brushing a strand of hair off her shoulder. "Do my words not matter now that I'm about to be divorced?"

The maids froze, unable to believe that their madam could so casually mention "divorce."

"N-no, of course not. We'll get it right away!"

Emily watched them scurry downstairs before pulling her lips into a slight smile.

Unbelievable:）

If she hadn't heard it herself, she wouldn't have believed that words like "lowering herself" could be used to describe her.

What on earth had happened over these past few years?

How could she have been so pitiful, living in such misery?

Divorce?

Fine, then. Let's divorce.

**

"Alright, enough! I don't want to hear it anymore!" Emily covered her ears and shook her head, looking thoroughly disgusted.

Over the next half hour, Jessica had relayed what felt like a full drama of "you were indifferent to me then, but now you're chasing after me."

As for how submissive and spineless Emily had been, Jessica described it like this: "If your husband thought red looked good, you would declare that green didn't deserve to exist!"

Emily: "..."

Emily's mouth hung open in shock, as if she were hearing something from another world. When Jessica finished, she lowered her head and began to cry silently.

It wasn't out of sadness—just sheer frustration.

She had been raised as a pampered princess, never having to endure hardship or suffering, so how had she ended up being treated so poorly? Thinking back to the things she had overheard earlier only made Emily's heart feel heavier, like it was about to burst.

But with her memories "reset" to five years ago, she couldn't recall the details of how this marriage had even come about. She had always been straightforward with her feelings and had never even dated anyone before—so why would she agree to a marriage of convenience?

And what was so special about Ethan?

In just two short years, he had turned her from a carefree girl into a miserable, love-struck wife. What was it about him that had done this?

As if suddenly remembering something, Emily quickly pulled out her phone and searched for "Ryan." The first related search that popped up was "Best Actor at the Golden Crane Awards."

Ryan had started as a member of a boy band, but after going solo, his popularity had skyrocketed. Emily had been one of his biggest fans, constantly voting for him in polls, tracking his data, and even getting into fan wars with rival fandoms.

Looking at Ryan's recent photos, Emily thought to herself, *No wonder I liked him—what a handsome guy*.

Ryan's transition from pop star to actor had been incredibly successful. Not only was he talented and good-looking, but his popularity had also soared, making him a top-tier celebrity.

As Emily stared at her idol, a wave of sadness suddenly hit her.

*Oh no, I'm not good enough for him anymore!*

He had become an award-winning actor, and he was even more handsome now!

And here she was, turned into a pitiful, desperate wife, qwq.

Oh, and she had somehow aged five years without realizing it.

*I don't deserve to be his fan anymore…*

Emily cried harder, while Jessica sat across from her, expressionless.

She deserved to cry.

The tears she was

shedding now were a direct result of the foolish decisions she had made before.

Jessica came from a wealthy family as well, and she and Emily had met while studying abroad in Paris. They had bonded over their shared interests and quickly became close friends, spending their days fangirling over celebrities, staying up late to finish projects, and building a deep, enduring friendship.

They had both studied jewelry design, but Emily had shown a natural talent for photography. She would often lug around her heavy, expensive camera gear, snapping photos wherever she went—and she had become quite famous for it.

In her second year of college, one of Emily's photographs won three international awards, and her work was even featured in the Paris Art Museum. By her senior year, she had held her first solo photography exhibition. At that time, the art world knew her as the young visual artist, Alisa.

After graduation, Alisa became Ethan's wife, while Jessica returned home to start her own styling studio. She had wanted to partner with Emily, combining her skills in portrait photography with her own expertise in styling. With their wealth and connections, they could have taken the industry by storm.

But Emily had been consumed by her love for Ethan, determined to be the perfect wife. Jessica had been so frustrated that she hadn't spoken to her friend for three months.

Five years later, Jessica's studio had collaborated with half of the entertainment industry, and her work could be seen in major fashion magazines. In the fashion and social circles, the name Jessica Qin carried significant weight.

"Alright, stop crying." Jessica handed Emily a couple of tissues, frowning. "Crying is useless. You're not eighteen anymore—you need to start thinking clearly."

Jessica's words were sharp, meant to snap Emily out of her daze.

"I have thought clearly." Emily replied firmly. "I want a divorce."

"A divorce?" Jessica was startled. She hadn't expected Emily to be so decisive.

"Yes." Emily was resolute. "He wants a divorce, doesn't he? Fine by me. We'll both be happier for it."

After overhearing the maids talk about her so harshly, Emily could imagine the kind of life she had been living for the past two years.

She wasn't suffering from amnesia—she was finally seeing things clearly.

Some people were simply mistakes that had appeared in her life. Now that she was awake, it was time to let those mistakes go.

Jessica stared at Emily for a few seconds, finally convinced that she really had lost her memory.

Emily had often called Jessica, crying about how miserable she was. Jessica had watched as the light in her friend's eyes slowly faded, as she shed all of her pride and independence, becoming a caged bird with clipped wings.

But now, Emily seemed to have returned to the person she used to be.

Emily was naturally a stunning beauty, and now her eyes were clear and determined. Her full lips were set in a proud, determined line, giving her the air of a little swan with its head held high.

Even the light had returned to her eyes.

Jessica couldn't help but feel invigorated too. "That's right! You're perfectly capable of living without a man. We'll start a business together, make money, and enjoy life with some fresh young guys!"

Emily nodded enthusiastically.

Jessica got up and walked to the counter, returning shortly with two boxes of ice cream. She handed the vanilla one to Emily.

Emily squinted at her friend, smiling as her mood began to lift. She loved vanilla ice cream, and Jessica knew her tastes well. She had even added two extra scoops on top. Four scoops were piled high on a waffle cone base, teetering precariously.

As they walked out with their ice creams, Emily was about to suggest they vent their frustration by badmouthing Ethan when a female voice suddenly called out.

"Emily?"

Emily turned around and saw a woman wearing dark sunglasses.

She was thin, with a sharp chin, dark red lipstick, and dripping in jewelry.

Emily quickly noted a few key details, but still didn't recognize who this was.

The woman removed her sunglasses, her gaze drifting from the ice cream in Emily's hand to her puffy eyes. She then slowly looked her up and down before curling her lips into a small smile.

Emily instantly picked up on the meaning behind that smile.

She had left the house in a hurry, throwing on a few old clothes.

Old clothes, yes—but old designer clothes. Still, standing next to this woman, who was decked out in the latest luxury fashion, she did look a bit underdressed.

"It's been a while. I heard you got married into a wealthy family early on. So, how does it feel to be a rich lady?"

Emily frowned slightly.

The woman's tone and gaze were clearly conveying one thing:

*Oh, seeing you do badly really makes me happy.*