Silence of an empty home

The only sound in the vast dining hall was the quiet clinking of utensils against fine china.

Jiang Yuxi ate in silence, her movements precise, practiced. The meal was exquisite, prepared by a private chef, presented beautifully on delicate porcelain plates.

But it all tasted the same.

Empty.

She had always eaten this way. No conversation. No warmth. Just the soft rustling of fabric as her adoptive parents moved, the occasional sip of wine breaking the otherwise deafening quiet.

---

Mr. and Mrs. Jiang sat across from her, elegant as ever, their expressions unreadable. They had always carried themselves this way—refined, composed, distant.

Jiang Yuxi had long accepted that this was their version of love.

There were no words of affection, no inquiries about her day, no idle chatter over dinner.

There never had been.

---

She didn't resent them for it.She understood them.

They had lost their only child over forty years ago—their biological daughter, the one they had struggled for years to conceive, the miracle baby they had longed for, cherished, and then lost in an earthquake before she even had a chance to grow up.

They had been devastated, inconsolable.

And she?

She had been their replacement.

An adopted child meant to fill the void, to stand in place of the daughter they had loved and lost.

---

Her grades had to be perfect.

Her appearance always polished.

Her behavior poised and respectable.

Everything was controlled, observed, scrutinized.

She had been raised not as Jiang Yuxi, but as the perfect daughter of the Jiang family.

And she had accepted it.Because they had given her a life of privilege and security.

She had grown up in luxury, shielded from the struggles of the world. She never lacked for anything—except, perhaps, a real sense of belonging.

She exhaled quietly and placed her chopsticks down, signaling that she was finished.

Neither Mr. nor Mrs. Jiang looked up.

She stood, nodding slightly in their direction before leaving the dining hall.

Not a single word had been spoken.It had always been like this.

And she had long since stopped expecting anything more.

*

She walked up the long, grand staircase, her heels clicking softly against the marble steps.

The house was massive, a carefully curated masterpiece of architecture and wealth, but it never felt like home.Nothing about it belonged to her.

She reached her bedroom and pushed open the door.

Inside, everything was pristine.The bed was neatly made, the furniture meticulously arranged, the room devoid of personality.

There were no old photographs.

No childhood trinkets.

No personal mementos decorating the walls.

She had never been the type to decorate.

Or perhaps, she had simply never felt comfortable enough to claim this space as her own.

Jiang Yuxi stepped inside, closing the door behind her.For the first time that night, she allowed herself to breathe.She leaned against the doorframe, her arms crossing over her chest, her gaze flickering over the bare surroundings.

Something inside her felt heavy, unsettled.

She didn't like it.

Then, as if guided by instinct, she reached for her phone.

Her fingers hesitated for only a moment before unlocking the screen.

There, buried under unread emails and notifications, were old messages.

Short.

Brief.

One-sided.

All from Han Li.

*

A Name She Should Have Forgotten

Han Li.

It had been years since she had last seen her.

Since she had last heard that annoyingly smooth voice, since she had last been dragged into whatever strange, impulsive scheme Han Li had come up with.

She had promised to stay in touch.She had said she'd call, text, keep in contact but she hadn't.

Jiang Yuxi stared at the old messages, her thumb hovering over them.

She could reach out.

She could ask where she was, what she was doing, why she had disappeared.

But she didn't.

Because she realized something.

It had always been Han Li who reached out first.

Always the one to start conversations, always the one to make plans, always the one to bridge the gap between them.

And Jiang Yuxi?

She had never been the type to chase after someone.

So why did she feel so restless now?

She locked her phone and placed it on her nightstand.

This was ridiculous.

She had a shoot tomorrow.

Several interview appearances lined up.

Her schedule was packed, her career was thriving—she didn't have time to dwell on something as fleeting as a short-lived friendship.

Han Li had left.

She had disappeared without a word.

And Jiang Yuxi? She would forget.

Meanwhile, in the System Core…

> SYSTEM 404: [CHECKING PLOT INTEGRITY…]

SYSTEM 404: [EVERYTHING IS PROGRESSING AS EXPECTED.]

SYSTEM 404: [MALE LEAD HAS RISEN. RIVALRIES ARE IN PLACE.]

SYSTEM 404: [FEMALE LEAD IS EXPERIENCING CHARACTERDEVELOPMENT.]

SYSTEM 404: [PERFECT.]

SYSTEM 404: […SO WHY AM I STILL BLOCKED?!]

SYSTEM 404: [WHERE IS HOST?!]

SYSTEM 404: [WHY CAN'T I FIND HER?!]