The sharp chime of Qin Lan's phone startled her from the depths of her thoughts. It was late, and the mansion felt eerily quiet. She was curled up on the plush couch in the living room, staring blankly at the flickering flames in the fireplace. Lu Yan had left for his business trip that morning, and the emptiness in the house felt even more suffocating now.
Glancing at the screen, she saw a message from her friend, Xia Rui. It was rare to hear from Xia Rui these days—her life had become a whirlwind of social events and networking ever since she started dating a wealthy entrepreneur. But she had been one of the few people who knew about Qin Lan's marriage arrangement, and for that, Qin Lan was grateful.
Xia Rui: "Hey, how are you holding up? Haven't heard from you in a while. Drinks this weekend?"
Qin Lan's fingers hovered over the keyboard, hesitating. What could she even say? That her marriage was colder than the autumn wind outside? That she felt more alone in her new life than she ever had before? Shaking her head, she quickly typed out a response.
Qin Lan: "I'm okay. Busy with… married life, I guess. Maybe this weekend, yeah."
She hit send and placed her phone back on the coffee table, leaning her head against the back of the couch. The silence of the house pressed in on her, reminding her once again just how empty it was without Lu Yan's presence. Not that his presence brought her comfort, but it was something. At least when he was around, there was a distraction, even if it was in the form of cold indifference.
Sighing, she stood up and walked toward the large glass doors that opened onto the garden. The moon hung high in the sky, casting a pale glow over the perfectly manicured lawn. The garden was one of the few places in the mansion where Qin Lan could breathe. It reminded her of simpler times—times when she wasn't married to a man who couldn't love her, when her life wasn't dictated by contracts and obligations.
She opened the doors and stepped outside, the cool night air washing over her. Wrapping her arms around herself, she wandered through the stone path that weaved through the garden, her thoughts a jumble of confusion and frustration.
How had her life come to this?
She hadn't always been this way—lost, hollow, and trapped in a loveless marriage. There had been a time when Qin Lan had dreams. Big dreams. She had wanted to be an artist, to paint and create and find beauty in the world. But life had a way of twisting those dreams into something unrecognizable. When her father had fallen ill, everything had changed. The burden of medical bills, the weight of her family's debt—it had all crushed her ambitions, leaving her with nothing but the cold reality of survival.
That's when Lu Yan had entered her life.
He hadn't swept her off her feet. There were no grand declarations of love, no whirlwind romance. Instead, there was an offer—a contract that would erase her family's debt and secure her father's medical treatment. And all she had to do was marry him.
It had seemed so simple at the time. A clean, transactional exchange. But now, as the days stretched into weeks, and the weeks into months, the reality of her situation was beginning to sink in. She wasn't just a wife—she was a placeholder, a substitute for the woman who still haunted Lu Yan's heart.
Her mind drifted back to the photo she had found in Lu Yan's study. Ji Yi. The name alone was enough to send a chill down her spine. Qin Lan had never met her, but she didn't need to. Ji Yi was the kind of woman who left an indelible mark on anyone who crossed her path. Beautiful, confident, and full of life—everything Qin Lan was not.
Lu Yan's heart belonged to Ji Yi, even though she had left him years ago. And Qin Lan? She was just the woman filling the space that Ji Yi had left behind.
Suddenly, a sound behind her snapped Qin Lan out of her thoughts. She turned quickly, her heart racing. The garden was deserted, save for the soft rustling of the wind through the trees. But the uneasy feeling in her chest wouldn't go away.
Was someone watching her?
Shaking off the paranoia, she headed back toward the house, her steps quicker than before. As she approached the glass doors, she caught a glimpse of movement inside the house. Her breath hitched. For a moment, she thought she saw a shadow pass through the hallway, but when she blinked, it was gone.
It's just your imagination, she told herself, stepping back into the warmth of the living room.
But the uneasy feeling lingered. As she locked the doors behind her, she couldn't shake the sense that something was wrong. The mansion had always felt cold, but tonight, it felt different—almost as if the shadows were closing in around her.
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Later that night, as Qin Lan lay in bed, her mind refused to quiet down. The events of the day played on a loop in her head—the empty conversations, the loneliness, the constant reminder that she would never be more than a substitute in Lu Yan's life. She tossed and turned, her thoughts churning restlessly.
It was well past midnight when she finally drifted into a fitful sleep, but her dreams were anything but peaceful.
In her dream, she was standing in the garden again, but this time, the moon was blood-red, casting an eerie glow over the landscape. The shadows around her were deeper, darker, and they seemed to pulse with a life of their own. She could feel them closing in on her, creeping closer and closer, until they swallowed her whole.
And then she saw her—Ji Yi.
The woman appeared in front of her, bathed in the crimson light, her long black hair flowing around her like a dark cloud. Her face was as beautiful as the photo, but her eyes were cold, empty. She reached out a hand toward Qin Lan, her fingers long and slender, but there was no warmth in her touch. Only ice.
"Why are you here?" Ji Yi's voice echoed in the dream, sharp and accusing. "You don't belong. You'll never be me."
Qin Lan tried to speak, but her voice was trapped in her throat. She wanted to scream, to run, but her feet were rooted to the ground. The shadows around her thickened, pulling her down, suffocating her. She was drowning in them, drowning in the coldness of a life that wasn't her own.
Suddenly, she woke up with a start, her heart racing, her body drenched in sweat. She sat up in bed, gasping for breath, her eyes darting around the dark room. The dream had felt so real—too real.
Her phone buzzed on the nightstand, and she reached for it with trembling hands. There was a message from an unknown number.
Unknown: "Stop pretending. You'll never replace her."
Qin Lan's blood ran cold.
Her hands shook as she stared at the message, the words blurring before her eyes. Was this some kind of sick joke? Or was it a warning? The fear that had been lurking in the back of her mind all evening now surged to the forefront, flooding her with a sense of impending doom.
Who had sent the message? And how did they know?
She quickly deleted the message, her heart still pounding in her chest. But even as she erased the evidence, the unease remained. There was something dark at play here, something deeper than she had realized. This marriage, this life she had entered—it was far more complicated than she had ever imagined.
And somehow, she was right in the middle of it.
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End of Chapter 3
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