Chapter 2: The Arrival of the Adorable Child

When she awoke once more, a dull ache throbbed in her head. Mo Qi pressed her fingers to her brow, opening her eyes slowly. A basin had fallen from the sky and cracked her skull, and yet, astonishingly, it had not killed her.

Since she had survived, He Shuai—just wait and see! Once, she’d lifted him to the clouds; from now on, she’d grind him into the dirt like a mangy dog!

The room was dim, illuminated only by a sliver of light filtering through the window. Mo Qi sat up, surveying her surroundings. The place was unfamiliar—neither a hospital nor the apartment she rented.

She touched her head. It ached, but there was no wound.

What on earth had happened?

The door, left slightly ajar, creaked open as a small figure tiptoed inside, carefully balancing a glass of water. Upon seeing Mo Qi sitting up in bed, the child hurried over. “Mommy, you’re finally awake!”

“Mommy, are you alright?” When she didn’t reply, the little one set the glass on the bedside table, switched on the lamp, and asked anxiously, “Are you still feverish, does your head hurt? Lean down, let me check.”

The child looked to be about five years old, with delicate features as if sculpted from porcelain. But she, a single woman in her twenties, how could she possibly have such a beautiful son?

“I want to use the bathroom,” Mo Qi said.

“Do you have enough strength to get up? Let me help you,” the child offered, reaching out.

“It’s alright, I can manage.” Mo Qi got out of bed from the other side and stepped out of the room.

The small apartment had just one bedroom and one living room; the bathroom was in plain view. It was tiny but spotless. The mirror above the sink gleamed, reflecting her face with startling clarity.

Naturally arched brows, a V-shaped face, and eyes as dark and lustrous as jet. She appeared to be in her early twenties, yet there was a weariness and resilience in her expression that belonged to a woman twice her age.

This face was strikingly beautiful—but it was not hers.

Mo Qi rubbed her cheeks hard, trying to wake herself, but she had to admit the truth: she had been reborn in another’s body.

“Mommy, are you okay?” The child was waiting in the living room, worried by her long silence.

Mo Qi took a deep breath, opened the bathroom door, and stepped out.

The little boy hurried over on his short legs and took her hand. “Mommy, go back to bed and rest. I’ll make you a bowl of noodles.”

A five-year-old who could already cook—what kind of life had they led before?

Mo Qi crouched down to meet his gaze. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’m fine now.”

The boy placed his small hand on her forehead, confirming she wasn’t feverish before finally relaxing. “Then Mommy should rest early.”

“Alright, let’s sleep together.” Mo Qi scooped him into her arms and carried him back to the bedroom.

It was already past two in the morning. The boy had been caring for his sick mother for hours and, now relieved, quickly drifted off to sleep.

Once he was asleep, Mo Qi crept out of bed and fetched the handbag lying on the sofa.

Inside were a phone, a wallet, and a small jar of face cream.

She opened the wallet—her identity card was there. The name read: Mo Xi, born April 21st, 1993. The calendar on the wall showed September 18th, 2013. Which meant the body she now inhabited was only twenty-one years old!

And it had been twelve days since she, Mo Qi, was struck down.

Now, she was Mo Xi.

Staring at the calendar, Mo Xi realized she’d been dead for twelve days. As an orphan, as long as He Shuai disposed of her body, no one would notice her absence.

“Mommy?” came a sleepy voice from behind.

The boy, clad in pale green pajamas, stood at the bedroom door, rubbing his eyes.

Mo Xi glanced at the homework notebook on the coffee table—written in childish scrawl was the name, Mo Xiaobao.

She put everything back in her bag, taking only her phone as she returned to the child.

“Come on, let’s go to sleep.”

“I want to sleep in your arms, Mommy.”

Mo Xi had intended to lull him to sleep and use her phone to gather more information, but exhaustion overtook her, and she soon dozed off as well.

Early the next morning, she was roused from her dreams by the shrill ring of her phone.

“Xiao Xi, are you ready?”

“Hm?”

“What do you mean ‘hm’? The open audition is today—did you forget?”

Open audition?

Mo Xi frowned slightly.

“Never mind, just get up now and get dressed. I’m on my way to your place and I’ll take Xiaobao to school. I’ll bring breakfast—you can eat in the car.” The call ended abruptly.

Mo Xi checked the call log. Sister Xiaoling.

“Was that Aunt Xiaoling?” Xiaobao mumbled drowsily, wrapping his small arms around her neck and nestling into her embrace.

Mo Xi patted his bottom. “Aunt Xiaoling will be here soon. Time to get up, little lazybones.”

They got up and washed. As Mo Xi was dressing the boy, Sister Xiaoling called again.

“I’m downstairs at your building—hurry up,” she said before hanging up.

Mo Xi and Xiaobao exchanged a look.

“Let’s hurry, Mommy. Aunt Xiaoling gets scary when she’s mad.”

As they descended, they heard the honk of a car horn.

“Mo Xiaoxi, you’ve waited so long for this chance—how can you not be excited now that it’s finally here?” Sister Xiaoling waved them into the car. “Let’s go. We’ll drop Xiaobao at school first.”

Once inside, Sister Xiaoling handed them steaming buns and soy milk as the car slid onto the main road.

After dropping Xiaobao at school, they headed to the audition venue.

“Just as I thought—traffic jam!” Sister Xiaoling checked her watch and sighed helplessly.

A river of cars stretched ahead; they wouldn’t be moving anytime soon.

Mo Xi turned her gaze to the window. On the giant screen covering the building’s exterior, brilliant lights glimmered as a man walked slowly across a dark carpet, his eyes deep and aloof.

In that instant, only one phrase came to Mo Xi’s mind: Absolute Sovereign.

Sister Xiaoling noticed where she was looking and remarked, “I once saw Shen Yijue at a gala—he’s even more elegant and charming in person. Picture this: at a party, eighty percent of the socialites in the room ‘accidentally’ tripped in front of him, all hoping to catch his attention. It was dazzling and downright hilarious.”

Mo Xi turned back with a smile. “And did you ‘accidentally’ trip too, Sister Xiaoling?”

“Cheeky girl! Teasing your elder, are you?” Sister Xiaoling threatened playfully, raising her hand.

“Spare me, O Lady Knight!” Mo Xi caught her fist, then said, “The cars are moving. Time to drive!”

Sister Xiaoling rolled her eyes. “I’ll forgive you this once for the sake of your upcoming competition.”

Mo Xi smiled and took another look at the elegant man on the screen.

Shen Yijue: the most sought-after superstar in the entertainment industry.

Rumor had it his background was shrouded in mystery—even the most powerful media moguls in the business treated him with deference.

He was someone no one in this world could afford to offend.