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.

"The Crimson Wyrm, an extraordinary tea," Laura began, her voice clear and ringing.

"Its aroma unfolds in nine layers—the first hints of orchid, then osmanthus, then peach… The texture glides down impossibly smoothly. Its spirit, at the opening, is commanding like a king; mid-palate, gentle like a knight; and in the end, ethereal like an angel."

With every word, my chest sank a little deeper. These were exactly the tasting notes I had just formed in my mind, my perfect conclusion. Every word and nuance was identical.

Then, she paused. "And within it, I detected a faint, almost imperceptible trace of iron-like bloodiness. This may be the true origin of the name 'Crimson Wyrm'.

"It doesn't refer to color, but to that thread of ruthlessness in its spirit. You could say it's the aura of a massacre."

The venue went silent. Then, like a kettle finally boiling over, applause crashed through the room.

"A genius! A true genius!"

"This is unprecedented. This level of tasting is beyond masterful—it's divine!"

Dad's face was flushed with excitement, his eyes fixed on Laura like she was the very future of the family.

I had lost. The faint thread of iron was something I had just sensed, so subtle that I was still unsure if it even existed. I hadn't even formed it into clear words in my mind, yet Laura had voiced it aloud.

Just then, Liam stepped forward. He came up to me with a triumphant smirk. "Now, what else can you say for yourself, Juliana?"

I looked up, meeting his gaze in silence.

"At this point, you have to admit the stark difference between you and Laura," he continued. "I'm genuinely ashamed that I once blindly got engaged to a woman as petty and spiteful as you."

He pulled out a document and flung it at my face. The edge of the paper sliced cleanly across my cheek, leaving behind a searing sting.

"Today, I want everyone to know that I, Liam Ford, am officially calling off my engagement to Juliana White!" he announced.

"A narrow-minded, jealous woman like her doesn't deserve to be part of the Ford family, and she certainly doesn't deserve to tarnish the purity of the tea world!"

His voice boomed through the venue. Everyone watched me with cruel delight.

Mom and Dad stood not far off, their expressions conflicted. Despite that, they didn't even try to defend me.

Finally, Dad sighed and declared, "Since the result is clear, I announce that the future heiress of the White family is Laura! The future of the association will rest in the hands of someone with greater talent, and I can rest easy knowing that."

Betrayed by everyone, I felt humiliated to the extreme.

In my previous life, this moment had shattered me completely. I ran from the venue in tears, but now, my mind was sharper than it had ever been.

A single thought struck like lightning, cutting through all the fog.

I finally got it. What Laura had been stealing from me wasn't my notes. It wasn't my thoughts, and it certainly wasn't my memories.