Mo Yuxin died in her so-called "previous" world in what most would call a tragic accident—a sudden car crash on a rainy night, her body flung like a broken doll across cold asphalt, her vision fading with the bitter taste of blood in her mouth. To everyone else in that world, it was just another statistic. Another headline buried in the papers. But to her, it was the conclusion of a carefully orchestrated fate—one that had never truly been hers to control.
At first, the realization unsettled her. The knowledge that her entire life, from birth to death, had been manipulated by someone else—predestined by a will far greater than her own—left a bitter taste. She had always believed in freedom, in the right to choose. And yet, that entire existence had been nothing more than a stepping stone. A trial. A long tempering of the soul.
