Saved Him, Now I'm Obsessed (10 Chapters Left to Complete) - Chapter 16
It wasn’t easy to break habits already ingrained in my body. Especially since I’d lived so freely, having to imbue every single action—from meals to speech to the way I walked—with meaning felt unbearably stifling.
Yet I couldn’t very well complain about the discomfort. After all, I now had to live as Claire, the daughter of Count McKane, so naturally I needed to get used to it. In this situation, where merely adapting to life ahead felt overwhelming, what did memories from a month ago matter?
“Sigh… So nobles don’t just live carefree lives after all…”
As I let out a deep sigh, a knock sounded from outside the door.
“Young miss. Her Ladyship asks you to come down to the garden. She wishes to take tea with you.”
“I’ll be right there. No—I shall be down shortly.”
Speaking informally to servants was another thing that refused to come naturally.
“Shall I help you change clothes?”
“No, it’s fine. I can manage on my own. I’ll change quickly and head out.”
“Then please call if you need anything.”
After answering her, I immediately dashed to the wardrobe. Even at home, nobles had to maintain a certain standard of dress.
Regardless of whether one met anyone or not, one had to change clothes at least twice a day, and even taking tea in the garden required an appropriate outfit.
“The McKane family is truly wealthy.”
Smiling contentedly at the wardrobe overflowing with fine garments, I felt truly pleased.
Though adhering strictly to etiquette in every little matter was inconvenient and suffocating, I did enjoy changing clothes twice a day. Trying on beautiful outfits I’d never dared dream of before and admiring myself in the mirror felt like a sweet reward.
“I never thought I’d wear something so gracefully flowing in my whole life…”
Partly because my circumstances hadn’t allowed it, and partly because as an apothecary, I rarely had occasion to wear pretty clothes. When choosing attire, the most important factors had always been ease of movement and durability.
Color wasn’t even a consideration—the ink-dark, deep hues were the only practical choice. Bright clothes were out of the question since medicinal stains wouldn’t wash out easily.
Unlike my own sparse wardrobe, Claire’s was brimming with a variety of garments, all made of soft, luxurious fabrics.
Some featured abundant sheer lace, while others were elaborate gowns adorned with tiny gemstones. Even the seemingly plain outfits weren’t truly simple.
On closer inspection, they were meticulously embroidered with threads matching the fabric’s color. Absorbed by the delicate textures, I found myself staring at the garments much longer than intended.
“For tea in the garden, something light and bright in color… Wasn’t it a blouse with a pleated long skirt?”
Following what Ileina had taught me, I picked an outfit suitable for afternoon tea in the garden.
For the top, I chose a blouse with lace at the neckline and abundant pleats on the shoulders; for the bottom, a long pleated skirt made of heavier fabric.
I changed carefully so as not to mess up my hair. Having the maid redo my hairstyle would be too much trouble. After tying the long ribbons into a bow at my waist, I checked my appearance in the mirror. I looked quite satisfied.
“Though there’s one drawback—instead of looking at myself in the mirror, I feel like I’m secretly watching someone through a window…”
Every time I looked at Claire’s face in the mirror, the unfamiliarity made me feel awkward.
“If only I resembled my old self a little more, I might feel used to it. Honestly, I don’t look anything like me—it’s beyond comprehension how I ended up in this body…”
Claire was petite and delicate. It felt as though my eye level had dropped by at least fifteen centimeters from what it used to be.
Her soft pink hair, flawless porcelain skin, and long eyelashes fluttering like butterfly wings with every blink made her seem like a fairy. Her exquisite beauty allowed any attire to suit her effortlessly.
If I’d worn these clothes in my old body, I’d have looked as awkward as someone wearing another’s clothing—perhaps even comically out of place.
Because of this, dressing up and looking in the mirror always gave me the feeling of playing with dolls. No matter what I wore, it fit perfectly, leaving me marveling at my reflection for long stretches.
While staring into the mirror, a sudden thought struck me, and I reached back to feel the back of my head.
“There should be a large scar here…”
I’d heard that Claire had been kicked in the head by a horse’s hoof while saving Prince Daniel. Given that the bleeding was so severe it soaked the floor, there ought to have been a noticeable wound, yet my fingertips found nothing unusual.
“Now that I think of it, didn’t that healer shout about a divine miracle, claiming the wound had fully healed? At the time, I was too dazed to understand, but was he saying even the head injury had vanished? How astonishing.”
Apparently, a miracle had indeed occurred, just as the healer claimed. Though given all that had happened to me lately, a mere scarless recovery hardly seemed cause for such dramatic reactions.
“The real miracle is a dead person waking up in someone else’s body.”
Since my last memory was inhaling thick, scorching smoke while pinned under a golden dragon clock during the fire, it seemed clear I’d died in that blaze.
Of course, a nagging doubt remained—what if I truly was Claire, and the memories of being Apothecary Jane were merely delusions born from confusion after my injury? After all, head trauma could cause people to believe they were someone else or lose their memories entirely.
But I had absolutely no memories of living as Claire, while my memories as Jane remained vivid—except for the past month. The memories of my life as Jane were far too clear to be mere delirium from a head injury.
I’d secretly sent a maid to inquire about Apothecary Jane and confirmed she had indeed existed—and that she’d died a week ago in the apothecary fire.
The flames had been so intense that not even her body was recovered; it seemed entirely consumed by the inferno.
At the very moment of my death, Claire had been unconscious from her accident. The healers had considered her as good as dead due to her prolonged lack of consciousness—no wonder they’d cried “miracle” when I finally opened my eyes.
My theory was this:
I died in the fire. But perhaps my soul, fiercely clinging to life, instantly seized the opportunity when Claire McKane’s soul departed her body during her near-fatal accident, slipping right in to take its place.
“I didn’t realize I was so desperate to cling to life that I’d take over someone else’s body… Not like a thief, yet still…”
Of course, this was purely my own speculation. With no one to consult or question, I could only guess.
“Young miss, are you ready?”
The maid’s voice from outside startled me.
“Oh dear! I shouldn’t be lost in thoughts now. Ileina must be waiting. I’ll be right out!”
I quickly pinned on a lilac bonnet and hurriedly tied a pink ribbon beneath my chin before stepping out.
An inexplicable event had already occurred—no ordinary logic could explain it. No matter how much I pondered, I wouldn’t find an answer. Instead of wasting time lost in thought, I needed to focus on living as Claire.
The McKane family’s garden was so well-tended that merely gazing at it brought deep satisfaction.
White peonies bloomed vibrantly throughout the garden. Though peonies were commonly known for their red hues, they also came in white, pink, and light purple.
The peony bushes bore broad, deep green leaves and stood about knee-high. Though their fragrance was subtle, their showy blooms made them a popular choice for gardens.
“The root bark of peonies is excellent for pain relief and particularly effective on pus-filled wounds. After the blossoms fade, I should harvest and dry some…”
One reason I looked forward to tea time with Ileina was that the garden brimmed with useful medicinal herbs. Of course, gathering and preparing them myself would be laborious—but simply looking at the garden already felt as satisfying as a full stomach.
It was like standing before a granary overflowing with harvest, feeling like a lord surveying their abundant stores…
Pleased, I scanned the garden as I approached the spot with the white table and chairs. Ileina was already seated there. The shade of a great tree draped over the area, making it seem perfect for lingering awhile.
I waited quietly, as she’d taught me, until the maid pulled out my chair, then sat down naturally.
Ileina watched me take my seat demurely, her expression clearly satisfied.
At first, I’d been clumsy even at sitting—perching awkwardly on the edge of the chair or fidgeting restlessly—but thankfully, I’d grown quite natural at it now.
The corners of Ileina’s eyes grew damp, as though my presence stirred many thoughts within her.
She’d been strict and firm when teaching me etiquette, yet remarkably kind in daily life. It made me wonder—had sisters-in-law always been this affectionate with one another?
Claire’s elder brother, Count Shuri McKane, was unexpectedly reserved, and with Ileina and Claire as the only women in the household, their bond had apparently grown exceptionally close.
Male lead reborn without memories — but he still falls for her.
The person he finds displeasing in this life turns out to be his cherished wife-master in previous life…
Xie Zhi and Fang Xianxing who had known each other for less than three days through a blind date sat in the same car in front of the civil affairs bureau. They had a disagreement and failed to get married.
Xie Zhi immediately took out his phone, slid through his contacts, and randomly selected the next marriage candidate.
The woman snatched his phone and hung up. Looking at his phone wallpaper, she awkwardly changed the subject: “An ancient painting, eh? It looks pretty good, it’s just that the person in the painting looks a bit like me.”
When he heard this, he sarcastically mocked her for being so delusional, completely unaware that, the person in front of him was the reincarnation of Wen Ru, the famous prime minister of Yuan Shun whom he most admired…
The female CEO who doesn’t want to get married with a divorce agreement in hand × The male archaeological researcher who will only get married if he’s sure he can get divorced
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