Jian Youyou hid in the corner, racking her brain for solutions. She considered suddenly stepping out and shouting, "I didn’t actually jump!" just to see the look on Yu Hekun’s terrified face—wouldn’t that be a surprise?
Or maybe drench herself with water, claim she’d climbed up from the other side, and then cover the absurdity of it all with hysterical sobbing.
Another option: soak herself, pretend to be unconscious in some hidden corner, and wait until someone found her. Then, she’d wake up acting clueless, adding a touch of mystery to the whole ordeal.
Or, hell, why not just declare herself the Sea Queen of these waters? Say the waves carried her back to the ship, that a shark rescued her.
But all these ridiculous ideas merely spun around in her head before fizzling out. None of them could hold up under scrutiny. This was the real world, not some fantasy novel—such magical explanations would never fly. So Jian Youyou stayed curled up in her hiding spot, peeking cautiously at the crowd on the deck, too afraid to emerge.
She couldn’t make up something too outrageous. The last time she’d suddenly disappeared, her excuse had been flimsy but just barely plausible. This time, though? They were in the middle of the ocean. There were no taxis here.
Just as frustration gnawed at her, footsteps echoed down the hallway where she was hiding. Panicked, she grabbed her skirt and bolted barefoot in the opposite direction, not even looking as she ducked into the nearest room.
Of all the luck—she’d stumbled into the lifeguards’ changing room. Pressing herself into the narrow gap between a large locker and the window, she held her breath and peeked through the glass.
Tears that had welled up from her hopeless situation now spilled over for an entirely different reason.
"Still searching? I’m done. Rich people and their games—this time they’ve really gone too far, and we’re the ones suffering for it," one man grumbled.
"This is serious. Even if that girl jumped willingly, the guy who pushed her into it isn’t getting off scot-free," another said, toweling off.
"You’re naive. These people have money. If they throw enough cash at her family, they won’t press charges. And since she was dumb enough to jump herself, what’s there to pin on him?"
The men muttered back and forth, and Jian Youyou found herself nodding along. She was just an ordinary girl from a modest background—she understood the struggles of people like them.
If she weren’t a transmigrator in this novel’s world, if she were the original Jian Youyou, whether she fell for Yu Hekun for his money or his looks, it would’ve ended badly.
But Jian Youyou knew the difference between reality and illusion. To her, this was just an immersive game, and everything she took back to the real world was merely a reward for clearing the level.
As for Yu Hekun, the final boss? His only purpose was to drop the ultimate "loot."
Though she was stuck in a tricky situation now, her gaze kept drifting to the figures reflected in the window.
She couldn’t see the lifeguards’ faces clearly, but their builds were undeniably impressive. So impressive, in fact, that she forgot why she was hiding there in the first place. By the time they finished changing and left, she finally swallowed hard, crept out from her corner, and cracked the door open to peek outside.
This wasn’t a safe long-term hiding spot. She needed somewhere more secure. Earlier, she’d overheard Zhan Cheng calling the coast guard.
She’d jumped right in front of Yu Hekun and the others. She couldn’t just reappear unscathed—that would be beyond unbelievable. Her only option was to hide until they reached shore, then come up with a convincing excuse to return to Yu Hekun’s side.
Meanwhile, unlike her momentary distraction with the buff lifeguards, Yu Hekun had been standing on the deck for two solid hours, battered by the wind. His legs were numb, his eyes bloodshot from staring at the sea for so long—all the progress from his recent hospital stay was undone. His vision swam with strain, and his mind teetered on the edge of collapse.
How could he not? A living, breathing person had jumped into the water. After this long without finding her, the odds were grim.
Yu Hekun was just a businessman. Ruthless in deals, yes—he’d driven companies to bankruptcy, pushed CEOs to the brink—but he wasn’t a monster. Jian Youyou wasn’t some rival he needed to crush. She was just a girl, far too young.
And now, because of his words…
Regret twisted like a knife in his gut. Zhan Cheng, after putting his child to sleep, came back to console him. In the distance, the coast guard’s boat approached. The exhausted lifeguards had already returned to the ship. There was nothing left to do but cooperate with the search.
Yu Hekun stood frozen until Zhan Cheng signaled two men to half-carry, half-drag him back to his cabin.
"Hekun, pull yourself together. When the coast guard boards, just tell the truth. Everyone saw her jump on her own."
Zhan Cheng, as his friend, naturally took his side. But beneath the very couch Yu Hekun now sat on, Jian Youyou—who had slipped in just moments before they entered—seethed at his words.
The most dangerous place was the safest. The bed was too exposed, but lifting the sofa’s skirt revealed more than enough space to hide.
Hearing Zhan Cheng’s dismissive tone, Jian Youyou’s dislike for him solidified. He’d hired Fang Qianli but treated her like a servant, making her watch his kid in that ridiculous dress.
Compared to Zhan Cheng and the other rich brats nodding along with him, Yu Hekun—flaws and all—was at least human.
Those heartless snakes, spouting their cold remarks, made her so furious she almost reached out from under the couch to yank them straight into the underworld.
Yu Hekun stayed silent. Zhan Cheng and the others tried a few more half-hearted encouragements before giving up. The ship was Zhan Cheng’s, and he’d been the one to alert the authorities. The coast guard would want to speak to him first.
Once Zhan Cheng left, the two less-familiar hangers-on found the atmosphere unbearable. They never had much to say to Yu Hekun on a good day—now was no exception.
After exchanging a few awkward words, the others left the room, leaving only Yu Hekun sitting on the sofa. Jian Youyou pondered the likelihood of scaring him to death if she crawled out now. Facing Yu Hekun alone, however, she was confident she could spin some nonsense to confuse him, even if he didn’t fully believe her. But the coast guard would surely question them soon, and Jian Youyou, no matter which world she was in, held an innate reverence for law enforcement. She didn’t dare lie in front of them, so she had no choice but to keep hiding.
Yu Hekun remained motionless for a long while. Jian Youyou heard him make a phone call.
During the dial tone, she entertained the dark thought that this bastard Yu Hekun might be trying to call someone to clean up the mess of her "death," absolving himself completely.
But when the call connected, she heard Yu Hekun choke up the moment he spoke. "Brother, I killed someone," he said, then broke down crying.
Crying.
Crying.
Jian Youyou, lurking like a ghost in the shadows, listened as Yu Hekun—always hot-tempered, endlessly arrogant—sobbed.
Quietly, trembling with fear, he confessed to the person on the other end without a single attempt to shift blame. "It’s my fault. I told her to jump, but I just wanted her to back down. I never meant to kill her," he whimpered. "Brother, I’ve never met someone so stubborn. How could she just jump? The ship was so high, the ocean so dark, and it was still moving… They haven’t even found her body."
Jian Youyou lay beneath the sofa, listening to Yu Hekun’s heart-wrenching sobs as he poured his guilt to his older brother. She clicked her tongue in amusement, her fingers creeping out from under the couch toward the back of Yu Hekun’s leather shoes—but she hesitated.
No, he was already breaking down. If she suddenly "resurrected," he might lose his mind completely.
Soon, Zhan Cheng returned with the coast guard, and Jian Youyou held her breath, trembling under the sofa as she listened to their conversation.
Throughout the entire exchange, Yu Hekun never once tried to evade responsibility. If anything, he painted himself as an instigator of suicide. Zhan Cheng, clearly overwhelmed, eventually fell silent. Yu Hekun didn’t cry in front of the officers, but his voice remained heavy, and Jian Youyou found it oddly… endearing.
The questioning didn’t last long. They reviewed the surveillance footage, which clearly showed Jian Youyou jumping on her own. Yu Hekun had attempted to save her but was too late.
Still, Yu Hekun left with the police. The room fell quiet again, and as Zhan Cheng’s frustrated cursing echoed down the hallway, Jian Youyou quietly crawled out from behind the sofa. Peering through the window, she watched the police boat depart while a few others continued searching the waters.
She stretched outside before slipping back under the sofa. The long silence and distant voices lulled her, and soon, the musty scent of the cramped space made her drowsy.
Jian Youyou didn’t know when she fell asleep, but when she woke again, the lights were off, the room pitch-black, and the ship still moving.
She dozed off once more in the stillness.
By the time she fully woke, the room was still dim. She stretched before crawling out from under the sofa. The ship had docked. Through the window, she saw a harbor packed with luxury yachts, each grander than the last.
Listening at the door, she heard nothing.
Cautiously, she crept into the hallway, only to discover the entire ship was empty—and the exits were locked.
Checking the digital clock on the wall, she realized she’d slept through a full night and day. It was now evening on the second day, and they had returned to Zhouning City.
No one could have guessed that the girl at the center of the scandal—the "poor victim" Yu Hekun had allegedly driven to suicide—was not only alive but currently wiping drool from her mouth as she rummaged through the crew’s locker for a clean uniform.
She changed out of her cumbersome dress, tied her hair up with a scarf, stuffed her old clothes into a bag, and headed for the ship’s lower decks.
If the doors were locked, she’d have to go down two levels and jump from a window.
After a frustrating search for keys, she finally forced open a small porthole and squeezed through, plunging headfirst into the freezing sea. The shock of the icy water jolted her awake.
So much for avoiding another swim.
Treading water, she scanned the harbor and spotted a lone figure in the distance, directing workers on another ship. No one was looking her way.
She hauled herself onto the dock, sneaking along the planks before darting onto a path. With no phone or money, she was relieved to find the earrings she’d worn during her first jump still in place.
After selling them in the city, she took a taxi back to her old, dusty apartment. Exhausted, she showered, curled up in slightly damp but clean sheets, and dozed off again.
While she’d been hiding, the outside world had erupted. The scandal of Yu Hekun driving his mistress to suicide had spread like wildfire, with daring media outlets running the story despite the risks. Though surveillance and witness statements cleared him legally, public opinion remained vicious.
Yu Hekun, more drained than Jian Youyou after her swim, was too consumed by guilt to even control the narrative. Though not a public figure, his influence in Zhouning City was undeniable—and his inaction was wreaking irreversible damage on his family’s business.
But he just stayed holed up in the villa, answering his brother’s call saying he was rushing back, mumbling deliriously from exhaustion. The sea breeze, the shock, the emotional turmoil, and the lingering illness he hadn’t fully recovered from before forcing himself to attend the gathering—all of it hit him like a tidal wave. His fever spiked so high he lost all sense of clarity and was rushed to the hospital.
While Jian Youyou was sleeping like the dead in her tiny rented apartment, Yu Hekun, burning up and delirious, was admitted to the hospital.
By 4 a.m. the next morning, having slept far too much, Jian Youyou naturally woke up. Unable to fall back asleep, she turned on the light and began scheming about how to deceive Yu Hekun upon returning to the Yu household.
After all, her sudden reappearance after supposedly jumping into the sea and disappearing was downright supernatural. Jian Youyou racked her brain from 4 a.m. until past 6 a.m. but still couldn’t come up with a plausible explanation. She dragged herself out for breakfast, still wracking her brain, completely forgetting that her rented apartment was near the kindergarten where her original character, Jian You, had worked.
So there she was, sitting at a breakfast stall munching on fried dough sticks and sipping soy milk, when suddenly someone grabbed her arm with a death grip.
Zhan Cheng had just dropped off his kid at school. When he turned the corner and spotted a familiar figure, he thought the stress of the past few days had finally gotten to him—that he was hallucinating.
But he parked, got out, and didn’t stop until he had Jian Youyou’s arm in his grasp, feeling the warmth of human skin beneath his fingers. Only then did it sink in—this woman, whom they’d all believed was dead, had inexplicably reappeared right here.
“You—” Zhan Cheng’s eyes bulged, his grip tightening as his voice rose with agitation. “How are you here?!”
Jian Youyou was so startled she dropped the fried dough stick in her mouth. Her seawater-logged, sleep-addled brain finally kicked into gear, and a string of curses ran through her mind—she’d completely forgotten this apartment was near the kindergarten, and that this bastard Zhan Cheng came by every day to drop off his kid.
But her shock lasted only a second. Her mind, now fully operational, spun into overdrive. Thanks to a childhood spent getting caught in mischief by her mother, Shuǐyuè, and scrambling to avoid punishment, she’d honed the skill of wriggling out of hopeless situations. The problem she’d spent two hours agonizing over that morning suddenly became crystal clear under Zhan Cheng’s abrupt confrontation.
Her expression quickly turned icy as she glared at him, yanking her arm free and pretending not to recognize him. She picked up the fallen dough stick, flipped it over, and kept eating.
Zhan Cheng stumbled back a step, stunned, but fury quickly surged through him. “You’re alive. You’re fucking alive, and you’re pretending to be dead?!”
He reached for her again, but Jian Youyou had anticipated this. She grabbed the half-finished bowl of soy milk and flung it straight into his face.
The scalding liquid made Zhan Cheng yelp as he clutched his face. Seizing the moment, Jian Youyou bolted. Behind her, Zhan Cheng roared like a thunderstorm, “Don’t you dare run!”
“You’re dead fucking meat!” he bellowed, already dialing Yu Hekun’s number. This whole mess had landed Yu Hekun in the hospital. Zhan Cheng had grown up with him, and despite their differences—Zhan Cheng saw Jian Youyou as nothing more than a decorative vase when his friend doted on her and worthless trash the moment he let go—he was genuinely furious on Yu Hekun’s behalf.
Because of her, Yu Hekun had ended up hospitalized, the company’s reputation took a hit, and even Yu Mingzhong was cutting his trip abroad short to return. And now this “dead woman” was alive and well, hiding out like nothing happened? It infuriated Zhan Cheng more than if it had happened to him.
But since she was alive, she wasn’t going anywhere. Zhan Cheng didn’t even bother chasing her. Instead, he immediately called Yu Hekun. It took two tries before Yu Hekun answered weakly.
“Your little mistress isn’t dead,” Zhan Cheng said. “I just ran into her dropping off the kid. She’s perfectly fine. Stop losing your mind. You’ve got her records, right? Send someone to her old place to grab her.”
For a moment, Yu Hekun wondered if his fever was making him hallucinate.
Zhan Cheng had never joked around with him like this before. Still, Yu Hekun couldn’t help asking, “Are you serious?”
Zhan Cheng scoffed. “Dead serious. That bitch just doused me in soy milk—I’m dripping everywhere!”
Only then did Yu Hekun sit up in bed, yanking out his IV without hesitation. He pressed down on the spot for a few seconds before pulling on his clothes, ignoring the slow trickle of blood from his hand. Normally, he wouldn’t tolerate a single drop of water—let alone blood—on his person.
But right now, he just needed to move fast. He didn’t care that his cuffs were smeared with blood. His fever hadn’t broken, but his energy had returned full force. His emotions were a tangled mess, something even he couldn’t untangle. His body trembled slightly—disbelief warring with desperate hope that this was real. Please, let it be real.
Yu Hekun knew Jian Youyou’s previous address. He even knew why she hadn’t returned the keys—the landlord was a nightmare who refused to refund the deposit. But instead of going himself, he called home and arranged for bodyguards to meet him there. As he was leaving, Aunt Yun and the nurse walked in.
“Mr. Yu, why are you out of bed? Weren’t you on an IV?” The nurse had just changed his drip—there was no way it was done already.
Aunt Yun frowned. “Hekun, what’s going on?”
“Aunt Yun, I have something urgent to take care of,” Yu Hekun said shortly before brushing past them. His hand had stopped bleeding, but the skin beneath was bruised and swollen from the rough treatment.
He didn’t care. Outside, he called Uncle Lin, his driver, and soon they were speeding toward the address listed in Jian Youyou’s file—the place she’d lived before he’d taken her in.
The bodyguards were already on their way from the Yu residence and would catch up soon. Zhan Cheng called again, announcing he’d also mobilized his own men after a quick cleanup. Yu Hekun didn’t refuse, giving him the same address—Jian Youyou’s current hideout.
Zhan Cheng’s voice was venomous. “Hekun, don’t worry. She’s not getting away this time. What the hell is she, a sea turtle? Jumps from that height and doesn’t die, then just hides in her shell?”
Yu Hekun didn’t respond. His heart was pounding too hard, his throat too tight. He just muttered an acknowledgment and hung up.
As long as she was alive and on land, there was no way she could escape Zhouning City.
Meanwhile, Jian Youyou wasn’t even thinking of running. She was at home, applying makeup after a shower. Her hair was still damp, her plain dress and light makeup giving her a fresh, innocent look. She dabbed foundation over her lips to mute their color, dried her hair until it was fluffy but neat, and spun in front of the mirror—a delicate, pitiful beauty.
She even managed to summon a few tears, admiring her own performance with a soft chuckle.
What does it mean to search far and wide only to find something effortlessly? That bastard Zhan Cheng had given her the perfect opportunity this time. She had been racking her brain, thinking that no matter what excuse she came up with, returning directly to Yu Hekun’s side would seem too forced.
And the part about jumping into the sea yet emerging unscathed—that was truly hard to fabricate. She had even searched that stretch of ocean, but there wasn’t a single fairy-tale island that could have carried her ashore with the waves, nor were there any fishermen nearby. She couldn’t very well claim she had swum all the way back from where she’d fallen into the sea—that wasn’t something a human could pull off.
But now that Zhan Cheng had stumbled upon her by chance, things became much easier. Zhan Cheng had misunderstood her hiding, and once he exposed her, he would surely inform Yu Hekun. And once Yu Hekun arrived, the real show could begin. She could gloss over the part about how she survived the jump into the sea and instead focus on another angle.
Though if this part went wrong, the whole plot could collapse. But Jian Youyou genuinely couldn’t think of a better way.
So she meticulously prepared in her room, practicing her expressions in front of the mirror, when Yu Hekun and Zhan Cheng quietly arrived with over twenty bodyguards, surrounding the tiny place where Jian Youyou was staying.
Jian Youyou was in the middle of her dramatic rehearsal, assuming Yu Hekun wouldn’t arrive for a while, when suddenly, there was a knock on her door.
She raised an eyebrow at her reflection, walked to the door, and peeked through the peephole—only to see Yu Hekun and Zhan Cheng standing right outside.
The bodyguards hadn’t come up. Some were searching the vicinity in case she had hidden after being startled by Zhan Cheng earlier, while others were stationed at the building’s exits to prevent her from escaping.
Honestly, such a massive operation was unnecessary for dealing with one young woman. The over-the-top response was entirely because Jian Youyou shouldn’t have been standing there, unharmed, inside that rented room.
That might sound too harsh, but it was the only logical conclusion.
Jian Youyou glanced at the two men outside, then rushed back to the mirror to check herself once more. Satisfied that she looked effortlessly beautiful—not overly done up but naturally flawless—she finally opened the door with an innocent expression.
Yu Hekun wore sunglasses, but the moment he saw Jian Youyou, his breath hitched. It was as if he had been transported back to that ship, the cold, briny night wind biting his skin as she, to prove a point about his cruel words, had leaped into the sea without hesitation, falling like a leaf into the abyss.
Now, he relived that suffocating feeling, staring at her in disbelief. She wasn’t dead. She hadn’t perished in the icy waters, nor had she been dragged under the ship and torn apart, as he had imagined.
She was standing right here, perfectly fine, looking at him with wide-eyed surprise.
Yu Hekun exhaled shakily, his legs suddenly weak. Only now did he realize that in the brief span between knocking and the door opening, his back had already become drenched in sweat.
His hand trembled slightly as he grabbed Jian Youyou’s wrist—just as her expression turned cold and she moved to shut the door.
No shouting, no yelling. His voice was soft, fragile, as if afraid the dream would shatter. "Why are you here?"
Jian Youyou hadn’t actually intended to close the door—it was all part of the act. From the moment she opened it, she had been performing. Every girl dreamed of being a star, and though she lacked both the talent and the looks to make it in reality, she never expected to get her chance to act in a dreamlike scenario like this.
"Where else should I be?" Jian Youyou paused mid-motion, her voice laced with sorrow. "I should be dead in the cold sea, right?"
She looked at Yu Hekun, her lips pressed together, eyes glistening with unshed tears—a far cry from the fiery woman who had thrown scalding soy milk at Zhan Cheng and sprinted away like a rabbit.
The word "dead" struck Yu Hekun like a hammer to the chest. He flinched, guilt and lingering fear rendering him speechless. His fever made his breath scorching hot as he hooked a finger under his sunglasses and pulled them down. His eyes were even more tear-filled than hers, on the verge of spilling over.
Jian Youyou knew Yu Hekun was different from Zhan Cheng and the others. No matter how harsh his words, his heart was soft. If she played this right, she could resolve everything smoothly.
Unfortunately, there was a glaring 2500-watt third wheel present. Zhan Cheng was no pushover. He had seen it all—compared to Yu Hekun, who had almost zero experience, Zhan Cheng had encountered every flavor of scheming woman under the sun. The moment Jian Youyou opened the door, his frown deepened. She was clearly dressed up, hadn’t run—his first thought was that she was plotting something.
She was alive, yet she’d let things escalate to this point without showing herself. Was she trying to ruin Yu Hekun?
Zhan Cheng’s face darkened. "Cut the fucking act," he snapped. "We’re all foxes here—stop pretending to be some innocent Samoyed."
Jian Youyou shuddered violently, shrinking back as if terrified. With a deliberate blink, tears spilled down her cheeks. She pointed at Zhan Cheng and demanded of Yu Hekun, "You brought him here to bully me? Are you disappointed I didn’t die? Do you want me to jump off a building next?"
Zhan Cheng’s jaw dropped. He was stunned by her performance and how precisely she had pinpointed Yu Hekun’s weakness. "Ha!" he barked, instinctively rolling up his sleeves. If she weren’t a woman, he’d have already thrown a punch.
Seeing this, Jian Youyou trembled, her lips quivering as she addressed Yu Hekun. "Why must you drive me to the brink? I admitted it—I was the one who liked you, who seduced you. But when I was drowning, gasping for air, on the verge of death, I finally understood. Why did you make me jump?"
Her lips wobbled, fresh tears falling as she fully immersed herself in the role. "You didn’t want me to prove I loved you. No matter how many times I said it, you never believed me. Only when I was about to die did I realize—you just didn’t like me. You wanted to force me to leave."
Yu Hekun’s grip on her wrist tightened, his own tears finally breaking free. But he shook his head, whispering, "No… I never wanted you to jump—"
"Hekun!" Zhan Cheng couldn’t stand seeing his friend so easily fooled. He yanked Yu Hekun’s hand away from Jian Youyou and snarled, "Enough with the act! Just answer me—why are you here? If you’re alive, why didn’t you go to the police? Do you have any idea how much chaos this has caused? People are saying Hekun deliberately drove you to your death! Are you trying to destroy him?"
He grabbed her arm as she tried to retreat further inside. "Who put you up to this?"
Jian Youyou was beyond fed up with him. With a sharp tug, she slammed the door—crushing his fingers in the process.
Amid Zhan Cheng's pained howl, Jian Youyou cried out in a voice laced with desperation and misery, "You've won! I won’t bother you anymore. Didn’t you say you wanted to terminate the contract? Fine, I agree—I don’t want anything!"
Zhan Cheng cursed under his breath and was about to charge forward, but Yu Hekun held him back. Yu Hekun's eyes were red-rimmed as he said, "Go wait for me downstairs."
In that moment, Zhan Cheng looked utterly world-weary, like the monk Fahai who saw through everything yet could never wake Xu Xian from his delusions—his hair practically turning gray on the spot.
But Yu Hekun had always been decisive, whether in business or personal matters. Even his closest friends knew better than to interfere.
So Zhan Cheng clutched his hand, breathing heavily in frustration, before finally growling in reluctant surrender, "Don’t believe a word she says. Take her to the police station to withdraw the case, then dump her and be done with it!"
Yu Hekun’s eyes were still red, his nose and cheeks flushed—likely from fever. His expression remained stern, and he didn’t respond.
What Zhan Cheng didn’t say aloud was: Brother, you’re clearly out of your league with someone like her.
But he didn’t dare. Instead, he shot a furious glare at the half-open door before stomping downstairs in a huff.
Yu Hekun took a deep breath outside the door, then pushed it open.
The room was shabby, its color palette dull and grimy. The air carried a musty stench—a mix of peeling, damp walls and uncleaned dust.
This was the kind of place Yu Hekun would never have set foot in under normal circumstances. But now, standing there, he barely registered the surroundings. His focus was entirely on Jian Youyou, who stood silently by the window, wiping away tears.
All his questions and doubts swirled on the tip of his tongue, yet what finally escaped his lips was a plea so tender it surprised even him.
His voice was soft, almost coaxing. "Come back with me."
