I was once the perfect image of an elite family: skilled at capital maneuvering and familiar with every rule of high society. Then the “fragile little flower” I had helped set me up. My family went bankrupt, my fiancé betrayed me, and I died in a car crash orchestrated as part of a conspiracy.
As I hovered near death, a little golden retriever calling itself 077 caught my soul. “Welcome to your awakening. The world you live in is just one of countless novel templates.”
It took me through parallel worlds, where I witnessed the fates of countless versions of myself: a deposed empress in the cold palace, condemned to die by white silk; a songstress in Republican-era China, throwing herself into a river for love; a substitute disciple who died taking a sword meant for her master... In every world, I was controlled by the plot as the “white moonlight,” paying for false love with my life.
“Your mission isn’t to escape death,” the little golden retriever said. “It’s to discover what each version of you truly wished for, and live the life she wanted in her place.”
But I never expected to meet that man in every world. From a restrained young emperor to a lonely interstellar commander, he always furrows his brow when we first meet. “Have we met somewhere before?” And when we part, he sighs softly. “In the next world, I’ll find you sooner.”
