Chad Foster was like a ghost, effortlessly catching up with her. He reached behind her and, with one sweeping motion, pulled her behind a cluster of massive Taihu rocks.

The light dimmed instantly. This corner was damp and cramped, with only a sliver of blinding light leaking through the smooth stone crevice. He let go of her rather roughly, and as he released his grip, a few strands of her hair were pulled loose.

Olivia Sullivan didn’t have time to care about the pain, her heart uneasy: “You… do you have something to say to me?”

Chad Foster smiled at her. “Haven’t seen Miss Foster for a few days—has your insomnia been cured?”

His smile was chilling: clearly the face of a bright, youthful boy, yet those luminous eyes harbored a trace of suppressed emotion.

It was a cold cruelty, and even under the mask of a smile, a few icy sparks still escaped.

“It’s… cured.” Olivia Sullivan replied stiffly.

“Looks like Young Master Carter’s sachet works wonders.” He enunciated each word softly, almost gently.

Olivia Sullivan couldn’t take it anymore. “Chad Foster, do you… have intermittent amnesia or something?”

He wasn’t angry. He lifted his head. “Oh? What makes you say that?”

Olivia Sullivan couldn’t help but want to ask the system: does the black lotus’s favorability reset to zero every day? Why was Chad Foster, who had been making normal progress, suddenly acting so strange and sarcastic?

“If you have something to ask, just ask… why all the riddles?” Olivia grew irritated, her temper flaring.

“……” Chad Foster stared intently at his own palm, silent for a moment. Those few minutes felt like centuries, and Olivia Sullivan’s heart pounded anxiously, thinking Chad Foster might explode and kill her at any second.

But she was overthinking it. He maintained perfect composure, curling his lips into a smile. “Miss Sullivan misunderstands. I was just showing some concern.”

Unfortunately, this kind of impenetrable politeness was even more maddening than a sudden outburst.

“Didn’t I say you can just call me Olivia?”

“Miss Sullivan, you must be joking.” Chad Foster’s eyes were unfathomably deep, completely different from the frustrated youth by the chessboard that day. “Zachary is just a guest. A guest should act like a guest—how could I be impolite to the daughter of the prefect?”

So the black lotus’s favorability and memory really do reset every day.

Still, he wasn’t wrong about one thing. The main cast lived in a bizarre, fantastical world, while the original Ethan Sullivan lived a peaceful, uneventful life. They were two parallel lines that happened to intersect, but should quickly diverge again, growing ever farther apart.

Ethan Sullivan, a delicate young lady who couldn’t even tolerate a bit of gauze, why would she set out on a perilous path that didn’t belong to her, together with the main cast?

That night in the nightmare.

The night wind howled.

The prefect’s face was ashen, the flesh on his cheeks trembling loosely, cold sweat dripping down his temples: “…Let me look at you one more time.”

The girl sobbed, “Father…” and threw herself into his arms, his clothes soaked through with her hot tears and sweat.

“There, there, be good. Go now.” His voice trembled.

Outside, shouts and cries of killing rang out. The light of torches turned into patches of brightness outside the window, constantly sweeping past the sill.

“Master, it’s done.”

The servant, head bowed, whispered through gritted teeth. Following his gaze, one could see a pair of feet in brand-new Shu-embroidered silk shoes in the inner hall, spotless, lying motionless there.

“Good.” The prefect lifted his face, a flash of resolute fierceness in his eyes. He forcefully pushed the frail girl from his arms, and she fell, crying, into Henry Carter’s embrace.

Outside, faint voices tinged with crazed joy could be heard: “In the main hall, the master is in the main hall, come with me!”

The girl shrank into Henry’s arms, her face instantly filled with terror.

“Hurry. Don’t ever look back.”

“They’re here!”

The main gate was breached. A line of dark figures surged into the house, and at the same time, the dark blue rooftops suddenly erupted in flames. Fire burst from the cracks of doors and windows, instantly spreading like a wildfire.

Henry Carter carried her on his back. That blazing patch of fire shrank into a tiny dot, receding into the distance.

“Miss Sullivan seems distracted.” Chad Foster spoke, snapping Olivia out of her thoughts. His expression was a bit gloomy. “Still thinking about something?”

“I… I have something urgent to do. I’ll come back to talk with Young Master Foster after I’m done.” Olivia Sullivan stumbled out, just wanting to get into the sunlight as soon as possible.

“You said I have amnesia…” Chad Foster’s voice sounded behind her, laced with a cold, mocking smile. “Has anyone ever told Miss Sullivan that you’re also someone with two faces?”

Olivia froze, her step halting mid-stride. She spun around, bristling. “What did I do now?”

But Chad Foster refused to say more. He waved her off with a bright, harmless smile, as if he’d just played a sly but harmless prank.

Olivia cursed the black lotus in her heart, lifted her skirt, and walked away.

The scarlet top faintly revealed her back, the vivid color gathering all the sunlight. Her white skirt shone dazzlingly bright. She turned around a lush flowering bush and disappeared from sight.

Chad Foster lowered his head, two strands of Olivia Sullivan’s jet-black hair twined around his fingers.