DRUGGED INTO FAITH

I woke up to find myself back in my room, the same one I had desperately tried to escape from. My head throbbed like it was about to explode. The last thing I remembered was grabbing the fence—then, nothing. Everything after that was black.

Sitting up was a struggle. Every muscle in my body screamed in protest. I blinked a few times, adjusting to the faint light trickling in through the barred window. I hadn't been observant enough. Foolishly, I'd missed the CCTV camera tucked into one of the flower porches outside. That tiny detail had cost me everything. Rage curled in my chest. I clenched my fists.

My throat burned. I ran my tongue over my lips—they were cracked and dry, tasting sour, like metal. I needed water. Cold. Chilled. Anything.

Dragging myself off the small bed, I staggered to the door and gripped the knob.

"Click… Click."

It didn't move.

"Someone locked it from the outside," I whispered. I twisted harder. Still nothing.

I thought about hacking the lock, but I had no pin, no tools—nothing. Whoever did this had planned it, and they'd planned it well.

They kept me locked up the whole day—maybe longer. No food. No water. Just me and the silence. My stomach growled painfully, curling into itself like it had given up. I lay back on the bed, defeated, dishevelled, shaking. I tried to think of anything to distract myself. That's when she came to me—Grandma Miao.

My heart clenched. I'd been so caught up in surviving that I hadn't spared a single thought for the person I loved most. She was alone back in Fujian. Her health had been failing when I left. No one was there to care for her. She had no one. I thought of Master Zhou. He had believed in me more than anyone, taught me everything. I had his number—if only I had a phone. If only...

My eyes fluttered shut.

Click.

The sound of the door opening jolted me. I sat up abruptly, my vision swimming. By my best guess, I'd been locked away for three days. No food. No water. I could go without food—I'd been trained for that—but the electric shock had left my body in ruins. My skin tingled, my limbs ached. Even my sense of taste had dulled.

"Clean your body. Madam Sheng demands your presence." The butler's voice was as flat and clear as glass.

He tossed a small cloth bag at me—it spilled open, revealing crushed petals and packets of herbal medicine. He left without a second glance.

I didn't expect pity.

Painfully, I made my way to the bathroom. The tub was small, barely enough to stretch in. I turned the tap, watching steam curl into the air, and poured in the petals and medicine. The smell—floral, earthy—wrapped around me like a blanket.

I sank into the hot water, letting it burn away the filth and blood. For a moment, I let myself forget. I stayed in there for nearly an hour, breathing in the warmth like it was the only thing keeping me alive. When I finally stepped out, my skin was flushed pink, my long black hair clinging to my neck and forehead. I dried off slowly, dressed in whatever they left for me, and descended the stairs.

I felt marginally stronger. Starving, but stronger. I just needed to eat something. Then I could take the medicine.

"You planned on escaping?" Sheng Wuang's voice sliced through the silence like a whip.

She stood at the foot of the staircase, arms folded, pride thick on her face. "You think you can escape this place? That idea better die in your thick skull."

She was poison, walking and breathing, seeping into everything she touched.

"I'm heading to the kitchen, Sheng Wuang," I replied flatly.

"You just called me Sheng Wuang?" she spat.

"That's your name."

I'd never once called her 'madam'—she didn't deserve it.

"Guards! Guards!" she shrieked. The lobby erupted with movement. Dozens of them came running, forming a barrier between us.

"Watch her scrub every inch of this villa. If she resists, punish her. No mercy."

Three guards peeled off and led me away. The rest returned to their posts. I was too tired to protest.

Ten staircases. Dozens of rooms. Multiple kitchens and sitting areas. Even the maids took days to clean it all.

Now it was just me.

Thankfully, Sheng Wuang ordered them to feed me. Maybe out of some twisted sense of control, or maybe she didn't want me dropping dead before I served her purpose.

I scrubbed like a machine, hands raw and blistered, my knees screaming with every bend. The guards jeered, tripped me, poured dirty water back on polished floors.

Evening came, but there was no rest.

Days passed. Then weeks. The punishment didn't stop. This was what I got for trying to run.

One evening, everything shifted.

Sheng Wuang summoned me. She handed me a carefully wrapped wine package. A fine bottle, expensive-looking. She also gave me a key card—R21, boldly printed on it.

"You'll deliver this to One Gold Stone Hotel. The driver will take you. Go to the first floor. Room 21."

That was it. No other instructions. No explanation.

I didn't know who I was delivering it to or why it had to be me.

The driver didn't say a word either. He dropped me at the hotel and drove off. The place was grand—gold accents, glass walls, fresh flowers in every corner. Luxury dripped from the ceilings. I wasn't shocked. I knew Fu Sihan had money.

Somewhere else, in a drawing room I wasn't in, Lin Ruan paced.

"Mum, are you sure it'll work?" she asked nervously.

"It will," Sheng Wuang said, satisfied.

They had laced the wine with a strong aphrodisiac.

They'd met with Lu Xichian's grandfather, Lu Wenqian. He wanted a meeting between Xichian and Lin Ruan, hoping the boy would finally agree to the match.

Lin Ruan had always liked Lu Xichian—maybe a little too much. He was devilishly handsome, filthy rich, and carried power like a second skin. But she wasn't stupid. She knew he was cold. Ruthless. The type who could ruin someone with just a glance. She liked him, sure… but she wasn't ready to suffer for it.

So Sheng Wuang gave her an idea.

Kui Fu.

We looked alike—enough to be mistaken for sisters. Almost twins, just a slight difference in skin tone and facial lines. I had softer features, quieter eyes. Lin Ruan, a bit sharper, lighter. It was the perfect setup.

All they needed was one night.

A night where I would be sent in her place. Drugged wine, an arranged meeting, one shared bed—and boom. It would all look real. Lin Ruan would become the girl Xichian had taken. And once he realised he'd stolen a virginity, he'd be bound by guilt, shame, responsibility.

Lin Ruan would cry victim. Pretend it was her.

To everyone else, Xichian had slept with the legitimate daughter of the Fu family.

In truth, he'd never even laid a finger on her.

But none of that mattered to Lin Ruan. In her mind, it was a win. I would be discarded after, and she'd get the sympathy, the status, and the man.

All without lifting a finger.

Lin Ruan was supposed to deliver it, but she refused. She wanted nothing to do with Lu Xichian.

They'd used me instead—Kui Fu. Because I looked like her. Close enough to be her shadow. Just darker, softer, shaped differently.

They had plans. I was just the pawn.

I wandered through the hotel, following directions from the receptionist until I found the room.

Knock, knock.

"Come in."

A voice—deep, magnetic, unbothered—floated through the door.

I stepped in.

The room was elegant: soft golden light, velvet curtains, black marble floor. Everything smelled expensive.

He sat near the window, legs crossed, sipping water. He wore a tailored black suit, the kind that wrapped around his frame like a lover. Sharp jawline, high cheekbones, silver cufflinks. No smile. Just that deadpan expression that told you he didn't give a damn.

He looked at me oncestared at me without saying a word. I could tell he didn't want to be here—didn't want anything to do with Lin Ruan. But his grand father had forced this meeting. Still, as his eyes lingered, I saw a flicker of something shift. Maybe curiosity. Maybe interest. Maybe he thought I was beautiful, he then turned away. "Pour the wine."

He pushed two champagne glasses toward me. His voice had a weight to it, like he didn't care whether I followed or not.

I didn't want to be here. But I obeyed.

I opened the wine, poured it into both glasses. I handed one to him. I didn't touch mine. I knew better. Even from the scent, I could tell it was strong. I had a low tolerance—I'd black out from a sip.

He drank. One slow sip. Then another. Still silent.

Minutes passed. Then his fingers loosened his tie. He took off his jacket. Sweat began to form at his brow. Something was wrong.

I saw it in his eyes—something primal flickered there.

Heat. Fire.

He looked at me again. This time, like I was prey.

"Are you alright?" I asked, backing away slightly.

He didn't answer.

He stood.

Each step he took toward me felt deliberate, measured. My heart thumped in my chest, louder than my thoughts.

He reached me and grabbed my arm. His grip was firm, hot. His breath came in shallow bursts.

"Don't… touch me," I whispered, but even I wasn't sure I meant it.

His mouth hovered near mine. His eyes burned.

When his lips finally touched mine, it was like something uncoiled inside him—and inside me. He pushed me to the bed, his weight warm and heavy. My breath hitched as his hands moved, coaxing, commanding.

I tried to resist, once. But the heat in his touch melted through the last of my resolve.

That night, Lu Xichian took what I had never given to anyone.

And I… let him.