The moonlight had faded, but the echoes of Li Ziyang's words still clung to my skin like frost.
"You weren't supposed to be in that car. It was meant for your father."
My father—the powerful head of the Xiao family, always composed, always calculating. Someone had tried to kill him. And the world just moved on, pretending it never happened.
Including him.
I stood in the vast, dimly lit corridor of the Xiao estate, my reflection stretching across the polished marble floor. The soft click of my heels broke the silence as I made my way back to my room, mind racing.
This wasn't a story about love anymore.
This was survival.
And I was done being passive.
By morning, the sun bathed the estate in golden light, but my expression remained unreadable.
I called for Butler Bu.
"Yes, my lady?" he asked, standing respectfully in the doorway.
"I need access to my father's schedule for the next two weeks."
He blinked. "I… may I ask why?"
"Because," I said calmly, "someone tried to kill him, and I won't allow it to happen again."
He went pale. "You—How—?"
"I know. And you should've told me," I said, voice icy. "I don't care about your excuses anymore. I need full access. If you truly want to protect this family, then help me."
For a moment, he stared at me, as if seeing me not as the fragile heiress he raised but as something sharper.
He bowed. "As you wish."
That afternoon, I started my investigation.
I had no police authority, no spy gadgets. What I had was instinct, a reader's insight into how these schemes usually played out, and a lifetime of consuming mysteries disguised as fiction.
First: Motive.
Who would benefit from my father's death?
Enemies of the Xiao family? Business rivals? Or someone closer—someone who wanted control of the empire?
I reviewed board member profiles, looked through public investment data, and started piecing together threads.
Second: Opportunity.
Who had access to our vehicles? Who knew the routes?
Only trusted staff. And that narrowed the suspect pool.
I called the garage manager, posing as Xiao Xinya and pretending I was merely 'curious' about her accident.
"What happened to the driver?" I asked.
"He was new," the manager replied. "Transferred from the northern estate only two weeks prior."
Two weeks?
"Did he pass full background checks?"
"Of course," the manager said. "All our staff are vetted… although, now that I think of it, he was oddly quiet. Kept to himself."
Red flag.
I asked for the name and searched through both internal Xiao family documents and news articles. No record of him anywhere else. Almost like…
He didn't exist.
Or rather, he had been planted.
Later that night, I met with Li Ziyang again. Not by accident. I had called him.
We met on the rooftop of his private residence. The wind was strong, carrying the faint scent of cherry blossoms.
"I need your help," I said.
He arched a brow. "That's new."
I ignored the tease. "The driver who took me that night wasn't just a fluke. He was a plant. A ghost. There's no official record of him before his assignment."
Ziyang's expression darkened. "That means someone deliberately installed him."
I nodded. "And it had to be someone with access. High-level access."
He leaned closer, voice low. "Do you suspect your own family?"
I hesitated. Then, "I don't know yet. But I'm not ruling it out."
He studied me for a long time. "You've changed."
"I've had to," I replied, looking out over the city lights.
We stood in silence for a moment, two shadows in a dangerous world.
Then Ziyang said, "I'll have my people dig into the driver. I can also get you access to the internal surveillance footage from that week. The Xiao estate's security has blind spots. I want to know if someone tampered with them."
"Thank you," I said.
He turned to me, and for once, there was no cold edge in his voice.
"You're not alone, Xinya. No matter what happens."
Later that night, I returned to my room, exhausted but focused.
This world—this novel—was no longer a story I was reading.
It was one I was rewriting, word by word.
And this time, the girl who was once a reader… was the player.