MGG - 1

Chapter 1: Rebirth

“Lingling, wake up. It’s almost your turn to go on stage.”

In the dim light backstage, she gasped as she opened her eyes. Before her was a heavily made-up, youthful face. The girl wiped the sweat from her forehead. "Are you tired? How did you fall asleep backstage?"

Su Ling's heart raced. She touched the back of her head—no gaping wound, no crimson blood.

From the front of the stage, a gentle female voice drifted over: “Let that fleeting brilliance of wind and snow pass; it’s but a fleeting moment. If I were to meet you again in another life, we’d be nothing but strangers…”

If I could start over… Start over again…

Su Ling suddenly raised her head, looking at the familiar yet strange girl before her. “Yun Bu?”

Her voice trembled as she reached out to touch Yun Bu’s face. Warm skin. Yun Bu was alive. But Yun Bu had died three years ago when her wire snapped during a stunt, cutting short her blossoming youth.

How could she be seeing Yun Bu now?

Yun Bu blinked in confusion. "What’s wrong? You’re so pale. Are you feeling unwell? Our performance is coming up soon. You’re one of the leads—if anything goes wrong, the instructor will kill you."

Su Ling stood up, glancing around. The dark red backdrop, the vibrant Yun Bu—it all felt surreal. She picked up the small mirror on the table. In its reflection, a pure yet naive face stared back at her.

Her trembling fingers unlocked her phone. As the screen lit up, she burst into tears.

April 30, 2013.

She had returned to five years ago.

She was 19 this year, still a sophomore in college.

Su Ling stifled a sob, covering her lips with her hand. Was this a dream? She pinched herself hard—the pain was sharp and real. Not a dream. After Zheng Xiaoya pushed her off the building and the unbearable pain faded, she woke up here, back in her sophomore year.

Yun Bu, who had been watching nearby, froze for a moment, then quickly wiped away Su Ling’s tears. "Hey, what’s wrong? Are you not feeling well, Lingling?"

Su Ling’s fingertips were icy cold, like the slow chill that had overtaken her body as she died. She touched her legs—long, slender, and perfectly proportioned. Unable to resist, Su Ling stood up and took a few steps. There was no hesitation, no stiffness. Her heart warmed slightly.

Nothing had happened yet. She hadn’t met Qin Xiao, hadn’t been forced into his bed, hadn’t become his forbidden lover, and hadn’t endured those torturous years of entanglement.

Her legs were uninjured. Everything could still be fixed.

She could start over, live with dignity.

"Lingling, are you possessed or something?" Yun Bu looked a little scared. Tears still streaked Su Ling’s face, but her eyes gleamed fiercely.

Yun Bu held up three fingers, signaling. "There are three more acts before ours. The instructor really values this performance—he’s trying to impress some big shot. If you mess up, he’ll skin you alive."

A big shot?

Su Ling froze, her face instantly turning deathly pale.

She remembered now. April 30th was the first time she met Qin Xiao. She was playing the role of the heroine’s death scene—a secondary lead role.

Qin Xiao sat smoking, legs crossed, staring intently at her. That was where the nightmare began.

Which meant... in three acts, everything would repeat itself.

The fear of Qin Xiao ran deep in her bones. Su Ling broke into a cold sweat. "Yun Bu, do you have any makeup?"

"No," Yun Bu said. Seeing Su Ling’s smeared makeup after crying, she hurriedly pulled her toward the makeup room. "The makeup artist is still here. Don’t worry."

Su Ling took a deep breath, feeling the warmth of Yun Bu’s hand. Strangely, she felt calmer.

The makeup room was unusually lively. A group of about ten girls surrounded one girl, chatting animatedly. When Su Ling and Yun Bu entered, the room fell eerily silent.

The girl in the center was Tang Weiwei. She raised an eyebrow, looking at Su Ling. "Oh, it’s Miss Su, the department beauty."

Her words sparked laughter among the girls.

Su Ling came from a poor family and had been frail since childhood, often sick. Yet despite her delicate appearance, she was adored by boys. Privately, she was called the department’s flower.

This naturally bred resentment among the other girls. They were all students at the same media university, and none of them lacked looks. Throughout college, they had ostracized her.

Seeing their mocking laughter, Yun Bu turned red with anger. "Sour grapes."

Just as things were about to escalate, Su Ling pulled Yun Bu back. Having lived another life, she wasn’t as timid or insecure as before. Her priority now was avoiding Qin Xiao. "I need to fix my makeup. Is Sister Liu available?"

Before Sister Liu could answer, Tang Weiwei flicked her nails. "She’s busy."

Sister Liu swallowed the word “available” she had been about to say.

Tang Weiwei rested her chin on her hand, sizing up Su Ling. "I’m free. I can help you."

Tang Weiwei expected her to decline, but Su Ling’s bright black eyes sparkled as she nodded gratefully. "Thank you."

Tang Weiwei smirked, grabbing the makeup products and using Su Ling’s delicate face as a canvas to smear colors recklessly. Everyone could see Tang Weiwei was deliberately sabotaging her, but no one dared to speak up.

It was simple: earlier this month, Tang Weiwei had suddenly replaced Su Ling as the lead actress, stealing her spotlight.

The reason for her arrogance was clear—she had secured the favor of a wealthy patron. And that patron was sitting in the audience today, the very “big shot” the instructor was trying to impress. The person Su Ling desperately wanted to avoid—Qin Xiao.

Everyone was busy fawning over Tang Weiwei. Who would stand up for Su Ling?

Su Ling calmly watched herself in the mirror. The heavy makeup made her look more like a ghost than a human. Tang Weiwei painted her lips to resemble spilled blood, erasing every trace of her former purity.

For once, Su Ling was grateful to Tang Weiwei for fulfilling her wishes without realizing it. With this ghastly appearance, if Qin Xiao still found her attractive, then he truly had an insatiable appetite.

Tang Weiwei leaned down, her face reflected alongside Su Ling’s in the mirror—one enchanting and seductive, the other terrifying like a specter. Satisfied, she smiled faintly, whispering into Su Ling’s ear: "You’ll die anyway."

Su Ling’s pupils contracted—an instinctive jolt of fear at the word “die.” But then she thought of the upcoming scene and clenched her fists tightly.

In her past life, she had fantasized countless times about redoing this play. If given another chance, she would never act it the same way again. Unfortunately, her performance had perfectly aligned with Qin Xiao’s preferences, leading her down a tragic path.

Tang Weiwei tossed the brush aside. "Let’s go. It’s about to start." She lifted her chin proudly, like a peacock.

Su Ling glanced at her.

Rumors claimed Qin Xiao liked decadent women, like Tang Weiwei.

But Su Ling knew better.

He had told her himself—he loved her pure and innocent appearance. He couldn’t get enough of it.

He didn’t die from it, though. Filthy men always seemed to live forever. What died was her.

This time, there was no way she would fall into his hands again. She had rehearsed this scene in her mind thousands of times over the years. Now, finally, it would come in handy.

This play was called Green Plum . It told the story of a vivacious girl growing from innocence to maturity, ultimately committing suicide for love. Originally, Su Ling was cast as the lead. But Tang Weiwei, leveraging Qin Xiao’s influence, had taken over the role. Su Ling was relegated to “second lead,” though she still played the same character—just the despairing version, with her scenes reduced to the final act:

The girl sits on a swing, crying as she swallows sleeping pills and dies.

So Tang Weiwei wasn’t wrong—what Su Ling had to perform was the process of dying.

But Qin Xiao had a secret unknown to others—he was a foot fetishist. To Su Ling, he was undoubtedly a pervert. He loved her tear-streaked face and her bare feet swinging on the swing.

This absurd scene seemed tailor-made for Qin Xiao’s hidden desires.

Su Ling’s dark eyes hardened. You like seeing me cry? I won’t shed a single tear.

You like feet? This time, I won’t show them.

You like this face? Will you still want it when it looks like a ghost?

Thinking of the five years of entanglement with him, Su Ling’s soul shuddered. After this performance, everything would change.

If she wanted to rewrite her fate, it started with Green Plum . Piece by piece, she would rebuild her shattered life into something whole.

The stage lights dimmed, then brightened again. The first act featured Tang Weiwei as the lead—a naive yet vivacious protagonist.

It wasn’t Su Ling’s turn yet. Hidden behind the curtain, her pale fingers lifted a corner. Her gaze swept across the front row, and she almost immediately spotted him.

Dark suit, white shirt, a cigarette dangling from his lips. Surrounded by smoke, Qin Xiao’s expression was cold.

His legs were crossed, long fingers tapping rhythmically on the armrest. He looked utterly bored.

Different from the mature and composed man he would become five years later, at 27, he exuded a roguish air.

Smoking in such a setting usually drew disdain.

Yet, when people looked at him, they didn’t harbor such feelings.

He was wealthy and powerful.

And ill-tempered.

No one dared to show their dislike.

Perhaps her gaze was too intense, because Qin Xiao narrowed his eyes and glanced in her direction. Su Ling hated and feared this man deeply. Before he could fully look her way, she dropped the curtain.

Qin Xiao saw nothing. He extinguished his cigarette with a firm press.

Beside him, Guo Mingyan grinned. "Bored, Brother Xiao?"

The man lazily responded, "Mm."

Laughter erupted among his rowdy friends. "Isn’t that your new favorite on stage? Already tired of her?"

Qin Xiao’s gaze swept over Tang Weiwei, who was performing enthusiastically. He gave a low, mocking laugh but didn’t bother to deny it. He unbuttoned the top two buttons of his shirt, raising his knuckles to tap against the chair.

On stage, Tang Weiwei was a vision of a thousand charms, her eyes silently seducing him. He curved his lips into a smile, but his eyes held no trace of amusement. His heartbeat remained steady, not quickening by a single beat.

Qin Xiao’s gaze on Tang Weiwei was like looking at a slab of dead meat. And Tang Weiwei remained oblivious.

As the lights flickered, the scene shifted.

When Qin Xiao lit another cigarette and glanced up, he saw a swing.

A girl in a black dress, her back to him, slowly approached the swing.

The pure black fabric accentuated the whiteness of her exposed skin. He flicked his cigarette ash, crossing his legs.

For some inexplicable reason, he felt a twinge of anticipation for her to turn around.