At the family tea-tasting event, I openly admit that I am terrible at it. I also announce that I am cutting ties with the White family and giving up my inheritance rights.

My father trembles with anger and points at me while furiously questioning, "Are you out of your mind?"

My fiance, Liam Ford, holds the fake heiress, Laura White, in his arms.

He snaps, "Juliana White, if you can't handle losing, then don't agree to compete in the first place. The way you are acting now is an embarrassment to my family and me!"

Only I know that I am not crazy.

In my previous life, at this very tea-tasting event that determined who got the right to the inheritance, they joined hands to drag me down in the most humiliating way.

Laura beat me and uttered every tasting note I came up with first. Again and again, I try to prove myself, only to be refuted by her each time.

She became the celebrated tea prodigy, while I turned into a laughingstock who made a fool of herself.

In the end, I suffer a mental breakdown and run out of the house, only to be hit and killed by one of Laura's fans. No one bothered to claim and bury my corpse.

When I open my eyes again, I am back at my first family tea-tasting event after being brought back to the White family.

"Jules, why do you look so pale?"

Laura White's gentle voice pulled me back from my thoughts. I jerked my head up. Her face was as innocent and harmless as ever, but I felt a wave of coldness.

I drew in a slow breath, forcing down the surge of killing intent inside me. "Nothing. Probably just a little nervous."

I glanced around. We were in the tea-tasting room of the White residence, all antique wood and quiet elegance.

The rich aroma of Golden Crest Black Tea filled the air, curling into my nose like a perfectly brewed tea. Everything felt so familiar. I knew this scene.

This was one month after I was reclaimed into the White family, the very day Laura first showed off her tea-tasting talent in front of the family, as well as the beginning of the nightmare that was my previous life.

"What do you think, Laura?" Mom asked, her voice soft with affection.

Laura's gaze flickered before she broke into a shy smile. "I'm not sure I can explain it well, but it feels like these tea leaves were plucked around five in the morning, still carrying the touch of dew.

"The water for brewing seems a degree too hot. It's slightly holding back the floral and fruity notes. The opening carries a honeyed aroma, then it shifts into florals through the mid-palate.

"The finish has a faint sweet potato note, with a lingering, sweet aftertaste in the back of the throat…"

Every word she said matched exactly what had just formed in my own tasting notes, without a single detail off. In my previous life, hearing that, I was so stunned that I blurted out, "How did you know that?"

This time, however, I simply sat back and calmly watched Laura perform.

"Bravo! You're a tea prodigy, aren't you?"

"Just as expected of the White family's daughter! Your talent is unreal!"

The room erupted in applause. My fiance, Liam Ford, was the first to rise, clapping without restraint. The way he looked at Laura was suspiciously full of open admiration and pride.

"Laura, you're amazing!" he cheered. "You were born to do this!"

He then turned to me, his soft expression sharpening into disgust. "Look at your sister, then look at yourself, Juliana. You're both tasting the same tea, yet you couldn't utter a single comment."

Dad frowned, shaking his head with a sigh, as if disappointed by the outcome.

"Juliana, I understand you've just returned and haven't settled in yet, but Laura is younger, and her gift is so much stronger than yours. As her elder sister, you should be happy for her."

Mom took Laura's hand, her face full of concern as she chided me, "Enough with the long face, Juliana. You'll scare Laura. We're family. Don't be so petty that you can't accept her being better than you."

One by one, they took her side as if it were only natural. To them, I, the biological daughter who had returned out of nowhere, couldn't compare to the one they had raised and refined for 20 years.

This time, I wouldn't swallow the injustice and cry.

I set my teacup down lightly, lifted my head, and met their eyes. A faint smile touched my lips. "Are you done? If you are, it's my turn to speak."

My composure seemed to catch them off guard.

Liam's frown deepened. "What else do you want to say? That you think you can do better than Laura?"

"I can only answer that after we have a fair fight," I said calmly. Turning to Dad, I requested, "Dad, could you bring out three different rock teas? Let the two of us do a blind tasting."

Dad paused briefly, then nodded. "Of course. A little competition won't hurt."

He probably thought I was just trying to prove myself with a proper tasting session because I was unwilling to lose, but only I knew that this would be an experiment.

Before long, three tea samples, coded and unmarked, were brought in.

I didn't rush to taste. Instead, I turned to Laura. "To ensure fairness, let's each write down our notes. No talking, so we don't throw each other off. Deal?"

A flicker of panic crossed her eyes, but she smoothed it over with a gentle smile. "I'll do as you say, Jules."

I picked up my pen and started with the first sample.

The liquid hit my palate, and I knew at once this was Mistveil Tea, an extremely rare rock tea that grew on shaded cliff faces, seldom seeing direct sun.

Its profile was unmistakable—a cool, mineral spring clarity and a distinct mossy note, like damp stone after rain.

I jotted down my impressions quickly, but deliberately left out the most telling note, the moss aroma. Then, I moved on to the second sample, then the third.

For each one, I wrote 70% of the profile, keeping the remaining most crucial points to myself. Once I was done, I folded the paper and handed it to Dad.

Almost at the same time, Laura finished as well. She wore a confident smile.

Dad unfolded my notes first and read them aloud. "Tea No. 1, prominent orchid fragrance, strong rocky flavor… Not bad. It's quite detailed."

He nodded, then picked up Laura's. "Tea No. 1, orchid aroma, solid rock charm, and… a distinctive mossy note. This is Mistveil Tea."

The moment those words landed, the whole room stirred.

Dad shot to his feet, excitement rising. "Laura, you actually identified Mistveil Tea! That's a rare cultivar that even I can't pick out easily!"

Liam threw me a smug look, his eyes practically spelling out, "You lost."

I didn't react.

So, it appeared it wasn't what I wrote on the paper that Laura was copying. What was it, then? My expressions? My minor movements?

For my second experiment, I changed the setup.

"This time, we taste in a separate room, back to back," I suggested. "We send our notes straight to Dad's phone."

It was an odd request, but Dad, eager to prove how fair he was, readily agreed.

Laura and I were led into two adjacent tasting rooms. This time, the tea placed before me was a rare aged dark tea.

I composed my tasting notes in my head, then typed them out on my phone. This time, I held nothing back, sending every layer and detail of the palate to Dad.

However, just a second before I hit send, I deleted the part about the medicinal note melting into camphor. At this level of detail, unless one had actually tasted it, there was no way to land on it by guesswork alone.

At least that was what I was betting on.

The results were then announced. My notes were rated "Excellent", while Laura's were rated "Perfect".

The reason was that in her description, there was the exact line I deleted about the medicinal and camphor notes weaving together. She even added one more sentence.

"It's like catching the scent of time itself, settling deep inside an old wooden chest."

That line was exactly what I had written in my private notes back in my previous life, the first time I tasted this tea. In that instant, the killing intent in me nearly consumed me.

Could Laura read my memories? My thoughts?

This experiment had failed too.

And with every failure, Liam's accusations grew more blatant and cutting.

"Have you had enough, Juliana? You challenged Laura time after time just to humiliate yourself! Maybe you don't care about losing face, but the Whites and Fords do!"

Mom and Dad's gazes shifted from that initial flicker of expectation to complete disappointment.

"Just stop, Juliana," Dad said, weariness seeping into his voice. "Don't make another scene. Why can't you act like a generous elder sister for once and take pride in your sister's gift?"

Mom's eyes even reddened.

Laura tugged timidly at my sleeve, tears shimmering in her eyes, her voice soft and trembling. "Jules, do you hate me? If my being here makes you unhappy, I can leave the family. I don't need anything else…"

Liam stepped in at once, soothing her, throwing me a vicious glance from the side. "Oh, don't cry, Laura. You're not the one who should leave!"

The more Laura put on that act, the more Liam's and my parents' hearts ached for her, and the more unbearable I became in their eyes.

"Enough!" Dad barked, tapping his cane against the floor. "This family tea-tasting event ends here."

He turned to Laura, his expression and tone softening at once. "Get some rest, Laura. Focus on preparing for the upcoming Crimson Wyrm Tasting."

As Laura left, Mom and Liam followed without a second thought.

I was particularly disappointed in Mom because she seemed to see me, the daughter she had carried for nine months, as no more than a stranger. She didn't spare me even a word of concern.

A bitter smile curled at my lips. I looked up at Dad and spoke first. "I know what to do, Dad."

After a long pause, he sighed. "Go on, then."

The Crimson Wyrm Tasting, an event that would decide the heir to the White family legacy, was set for three days later. The moment the news spread, a restless tension settled over the entire clan.

This was the Whites' highest-stakes gathering. In my previous life, it was the day I was nailed to the pillar of shame, with no way to wash it clean.

The Crimson Wyrm was said to be a rare variant of the Scarlet Mantle trees. There was only a single tin of it across the world. The White family guarded it like their greatest treasure.

Whoever could truly read its hidden notes would earn the right to become the next heir and take control of the entire tea association.

For those three days, I shut myself inside the tasting room and cut off every distraction.

I dug through rare, almost-forgotten texts on the Scarlet Mantle, steeping myself in them until I tuned my palate and nose to their sharpest edge.

Yet trouble always found a way in.

The night before the tasting, Laura came to my door with a cup of hot tea in hand. Her voice was soft.

"Jules, you've worked so hard these past few days, and you've even lost weight. Here, I brewed this calming tea for you myself."

I didn't even bother looking at her. "No, thanks. Just get to the point."

Her eyes reddened instantly, her tears welling up as if on cue. "I… Just don't put too much pressure on yourself tomorrow. The Crimson Wyrm isn't something you can grasp by force.

"It comes down to talent, to state of mind. It's something built over time, through quiet infusion—not something you get by shutting yourself away and cramming."

She said it so eloquently, reducing all my effort to clumsy, brute studying. Meanwhile, she was supposedly the effortless prodigy, someone who never needed to try.

I hadn't even said a word when Liam rushed over to Laura's side, frowning as he scolded me, "She's just trying to look out for you, Juliana! What's with that attitude? Are you mad just because you're insecure?"

"We'll find out tomorrow whether I'm as insecure as you think," I replied coldly, then turned on him. "And you, Mr. Ford—what gives you the right to butt into a conversation between my sister and me?

"Are you homeless? Is your family bankrupt? From the way you mooch off our food and drinks and even stay here all day, it sure seems like it."

He was livid. "You—"

Laura quickly grabbed his arm, tears shining in her eyes as she looked at me. "Jules, don't be mad at Liam. He's only looking out for me. I… Did I say something wrong and upset you again? I'm sorry…"

I couldn't be bothered to watch yet another one of her pitiful acts. I spun around, slammed the door shut, and blocked the two drama queens outside.

Out of sight, out of mind.

The next day, the tea-tasting venue was packed with guests—faces well-known across the tea world, all of them sharp and discerning.

Dad personally opened the antique tin containing the Crimson Wyrm.

The moment the lid lifted, an aroma unlike anything words could capture filled the room. Everyone held their breath.

Laura and I, the only two tasters, took our seats at the head of the table. The tea glowed amber, clear and bright. I lifted the cup and took a careful sip.

Instantly, it was as if a thousand shifting landscapes exploded across my palate—rocky, floral, fruity, and woody notes were woven together, changing and elusive.

Its taste was even better than what I remembered from my previous life.

I forced myself to be calm, focusing all my senses on the tea, unraveling its intricacies layer by layer. When the tasting ended, it was time to report.

Laura went first. She stood, a gentle smile playing on her lips, radiating that kind of confidence that made it seem like she already knew everything there was to know.