A Dangerous New Role
A Life She Never Chose
The morning after the dream, Li Yue sat on the edge of Song Rui's bed, gripping the sheets in her hands.
Her heart still pounded.
She had spoken to Song Rui. Truly spoke to her.
For the first time, she had proof that she wasn't alone in this—proof that Song Rui's soul still existed in her body, just like she had feared.
But that only made things worse.
Because now, more than ever, Li Yue was aware of the truth:
This was not her life.
And yet…
She had no choice but to live it.
The sharp ringing of the alarm clock jolted her from her thoughts.
The moment she turned to glare at the device, it stopped—a miracle of magic.
Except, no.
Not magic.
Technology.
A shudder ran through her.
She had avoided interacting with the strange devices in this world as much as possible. The glowing rectangle that fit in the palm of her hand, the box in the living room that displayed moving images and voices, the thin metal plate in the kitchen that burned food without a single flame.
Demon's work.
Or, as Song Rui had called it in their dream, normal.
Li Yue exhaled sharply.
She couldn't avoid it anymore.
If she didn't act like Song Rui—didn't talk, dress, or move as she would—someone would notice.
And if they noticed, they would question.
And if they questioned, they would realize.
Her fingers tightened in the sheets.
She couldn't let that happen.
Because she still had no idea how she had gotten here.
Or worse—how to leave.
An hour later, Li Yue stood stiffly in front of Song Rui's mirror, staring at the stranger in her reflection.
She was dressed in modern clothing—a crisp white blouse, black trousers, and polished heels.
The outfit was simple.
But to her, it felt like a battle uniform.
Her first real test.
Xiang Zhen—Song Rui's superior—had messaged her. Told her to come in today.
There was no escaping it.
She had to go to Song Rui's workplace.
And worse—she had to act like her.
Li Yue inhaled deeply.
Then, with slow precision, she picked up Song Rui's phone—a device that still made her uneasy—and tapped the screen.
It lit up instantly.
No incantation. No activation.
Still unnatural.
She ignored the growing unease and quickly scanned the recent messages.
She had read through some of Song Rui's notes before—research on Lin Cheng, files on corruption, unfinished articles—but there was nothing that taught her how to behave.
No instructions on how to be Song Rui.
She had to figure it out on her own.
Her hands curled into fists.
She would.
She had no other choice.
The city was chaos.
Li Yue had thought it before, and she thought it now—everything here moved too fast.
Carriages that roared without horses. People speaking into their hands, to invisible beings.
And worst of all, the crushing crowds.
Even with her hood up, and hand laid down, she felt exposed.
Her every movement was careful, and deliberate, mimicking what she had observed from others.
She forced herself to walk with purpose, shoulders squared.
Song Rui was a journalist—a woman used to the fast pace of the world.
She could not walk like a princess, gliding softly down marble halls.
She had to be sharper. Quicker.
Like a woman used to chasing the truth.
The thought sent a sharp pang through her.
She had been that woman, once.
Not a journalist, but a seeker of truth.
She had tried to find justice.
And for it, she had lost everything.
Li Yue pushed the memory aside and kept moving.
She had a role to play.
The moment she stepped into the newsroom, the noise hit her.
Loud voices, the clacking of keyboards, the constant hum of machines.
It was nothing like a palace.
Nothing like the halls she had once walked.
But what unsettled her most wasn't the environment.
It was the people.
Because they knew Song Rui.
They knew her mannerisms, her habits, her voice.
And she had to convince them she was the same.
A task made even harder when a woman suddenly called out—
"Song Rui!"
Li Yue's spine locked.
A man with sharp eyes strode toward her.
Xiang Zhen.
Her boss.
Her first true test.
Xiang Zhen studied her immediately.
His gaze was like a sword, cutting through every detail.
Her stance. Her posture. The way she hesitated.
She forced herself to relax.
Song Rui would not hesitate.
So she lifted her chin and gave a short nod.
"I'm here," she said.
Xiang Zhen frowned.
"Of course, you're here. You're late."
Li Yue stiffened.
She had forgotten.
Song Rui was punctual.
Her mind scrambled for an excuse.
But before she could find one, Xiang Zhen sighed and shoved a file into her hands.
"Never mind. We've got work."
She blinked, looking down at the pages filled with strange symbols.
Newspapers. Reports.
A language she still struggled with.
Xiang Zhen eyed her.
"You feeling okay?"
The question was casual.
But the way he looked at her—it wasn't.
She could feel his suspicion.
Forcing a breath, she met his gaze with careful confidence.
"A lot on my mind," she answered smoothly.
It wasn't a lie.
Xiang Zhen gave her a long look.
Then, with a grunt, he turned.
"Good. Then get to work."
And just like that, she had passed her first test.
But there would be many more to come.
The day dragged on in a blur of papers, machines, and hushed conversations.
Li Yue mimicked what she saw—typed when others typed, and nodded when necessary.
She barely understood half of what she was doing.
But she kept going.
Because the alternative was worse.
By the time she stepped out of the office, the sun had begun to set.
Her feet ached.
Her head throbbed.
But she had survived.
For now.
She lifted her gaze to the city's horizon, the glowing towers of glass and metal standing like giants of a foreign land.
A land she did not belong to.
But until she found a way back—
She had to pretend she did.
No matter how dangerous it was.
No matter how much it hurt.
Because this world held a monster.
A man with a familiar name.
Lin Cheng.
And if he was here, in this world, just as he had been in hers—
Then this was more than just fate.
This was a war.
And she had no choice but to fight.