My reborn wife is hidden genius

The first thing she noticed was the silence.

Not the soft hum of a satellite core. Not the regulated, recycled air of a space station. This silence was organic. Thick. Real.

Selene opened her eyes.

A ceiling. Cracked, faded white. A rusting ceiling fan creaked slowly overhead. The air smelled like antiseptic and something faintly musty.

No digital feed.

No HUD overlay.

No data stream humming beneath her thoughts.

> Offline. Unmodified. Primitive.

She tried to sit up—and pain exploded behind her eyes. Her limbs trembled. Weak. Too soft. Too small.

This wasn’t her body.

It wasn’t her world.

Then came the memories—rushing in like corrupted code.

A girl named Mo Selene.

Seventeen years old.

The unwanted daughter of the Mo family.

Bullied in school, ignored at home. A quiet disgrace. A placeholder in a political marriage.

She had died quietly. Alone.

But that girl was gone now.

Selene closed her eyes. Breathed once. Steady.

Her name had once been Dr. Selene Vireya—supreme strategist of the Third Quantum Fleet, betrayed and burned out of time. She’d activated a forbidden soul tether moments before her death, scattering her consciousness through spacetime.

And now, it had landed here.

In this fragile, broken shell.

A knock snapped her attention toward the door. Then a voice—smooth, practiced, insincere.

"Selene. Get dressed. We’re leaving.”

Bai Meiran.

Her stepmother.

The woman who smiled sweetly while feeding poison.

Selene looked down at her new hands. Pale. Delicate. No calluses. No scars. No upgrades.

This body is weak, she thought, but the mind inside it is not.

She stood. Wobbled. Balanced.

Crossing the room, she caught sight of her reflection in the old mirror. Soft features. Hollow cheeks. Blank eyes.

But not anymore.

Now, those eyes held calculation. Calm. Vengeance.

She opened the door.

Bai Meiran didn’t turn. She simply held out a coat and said, “We’ll return home today. Don’t embarrass yourself.”

Selene slipped on the coat. Her voice, when it came, was polite. Even pleasant.

“Of course, Madam Bai,” she said.

“After all… it would be such a shame to embarrass our family.”

Bai Meiran froze.

For the first time in seventeen years,

Mo Selene had spoken without lowering her head.

And she hadn’t blinked once.