Category: English

I am Rowan, Oracle of the Verdant Clan. The Exiled Prince, Reed, spent three years banished to the Verdant Wilds. That I claimed him, bending his will to mine, became the greatest stain on his honor. Years later, he seized the throne, then personally led his armies to conquer the Verdant Clan. The day he burst into my chambers, the Blight within me flared, a torment worse than death. His fingers clamped around my throat, his voice a ragged growl. “Back then, you cruelly toyed with me, then cast me aside. Do you regret it now?” Fighting the agonizing gnawing of the blight-worms in my heart, I managed a brittle laugh. “Reed, you are the Emperor now, master of all lands. Could you perhaps find me a root of ancient ginseng?” “Still unrepentant!” He dragged me back to Crownsgate, subjecting me to endless torment. But he never knew that, all those years ago, when he lay dying from the poison… …it was I who invoked the Soul-Link Parasite, drawing the venom from his veins into my own. Now, I was dying. 1 I woke in the dank darkness of the dungeon, the first thing I saw a gnarled root of ancient ginseng beside me. A jolt went through me, my heart a tangled knot of emotions. My trembling hand reached for it, but then a heavy boot slammed down, pinning my wrist to the cold stone. Reed stood cloaked in shadow, his gaze as bleak as winter. “Rowan, when you shamed me, did you ever imagine this would be your end?” I looked at Reed, a thousand thoughts swirling, but the words that spilled from my lips were a desperate plea. “Reed, I need so many ancient herbs. Will you… will you help me again?” The words hung in the air, and a spark of fury ignited in Reed’s glacial eyes. He ground his boot down on my wrist, a cruel twist. “Three years, and that’s all you can say to me? Do you truly believe I am still the broken prince you once commanded so carelessly?” Agony, sharp and splintering, shot up my arm, draining my face of what little color remained. A bitter, hollow laugh escaped me. “You are Emperor now. If I didn’t speak like this, your Empress might misunderstand, might think I still harbored lingering affections for you.” At my words, Reed’s movement faltered, his expression twisting into something ugly, discomfited. Everyone knew he and Empress Isolde shared a love profound and enduring, a bond forged in shared struggle. The next moment, he crushed the ancient ginseng beneath his heel, pulverizing it. “Rowan, you dare presume!” He seemed poised to do more, but Isolde, who had been waiting outside the cell, gently grasped his arm. Isolde stood tall, her tone dripping with mock pity. “The esteemed Oracle of the Verdant Clan, now a common prisoner. How utterly pathetic. But had you not been so blind, had you not tormented Reed so relentlessly back then, you wouldn’t be in this wretched state! Were it not for Reed’s and my wedding today, a day for no bloodshed, I would have had you torn apart a thousand times over.” Only then did I notice. Reed and Isolde were clad in robes of vibrant, blinding crimson, the color of celebration. I bit my lip, silent, as memories, sharp and painful, flickered through my mind. Six years ago, Reed, the disgraced prince, was banished to the Verdant Wilds. It was then that I, Rowan, found myself captivated by him at first sight. I pursued him relentlessly, and we fell into a love that consumed us. Reed and I, all we truly wanted was to be a simple couple, to live out our days in quiet peace. But alas, Reed’s status as a disgraced prince made him a target. Assassins, wave after wave, hunted him without end. During one such attack, Reed was struck down by a potent poison, one with no known cure. The only hope lay in the Soul-Link Parasite – a forbidden ancient ritual to transfer the venom from his body, a life for a life. … The blight-worms gnawed at my very flesh, my heart a raw, aching wound. I snapped back to the present, watching Reed lean down to press a tender kiss to Isolde’s forehead, his eyes overflowing with affection. “Had she not betrayed me so cruelly, I would never have found you,” he murmured. “To have a wife like you, what more could a man ask for? The auspicious hour is upon us. Let us not be delayed by her.” The ceaseless ache in my heart tightened its grip, stealing my breath. I turned my face away, unable to watch. But Isolde’s gaze lingered on me, a chilling smirk playing on her lips. “Reed,” she purred, “wasn’t she your former wife? For our wedding, why don’t we invite her to add… a touch of entertainment?” … Reed hesitated for only a breath, then nodded. At his command, guards seized me, dragging me roughly toward the grand hall. Crimson silks draped every surface, and the air throbbed with the rhythmic beat of drums and gongs. Reed and Isolde stood side by side, bowing in their wedding rites, as the assembled courtiers offered their congratulations. My eyes, betraying me, stung with unshed tears. Reed and I, too, had once exchanged vows. In the Verdant Clan, it is the women who lead the lineage. As Oracle, I was destined to take a husband, never to be given away. The world whispered that I had forcibly claimed Reed as my husband, merely to humiliate him. They never knew it was his own choice. He had said that if it meant being with me, he would willingly become a pledge-husband, bound to my clan. And besides, he was then a mere commoner, stripped of all ambition, seeking only to grow old by my side… All those memories, now they felt like a fleeting dream, a mirage shimmering in the heat. Isolde’s voice, laced with malicious intent, drifted down to me from the dais. “I’ve heard tales that the Oracle’s blood can repel all blight-creatures. Is it true? Reed, I should like to see it for myself.” Reed was silent for a long moment, then uttered a single, chilling word: “Good.” At his assent, a terrifying cold seeped into my very bones. The next instant, I was seized and flung into a massive wooden vat, teeming with all manner of venomous creatures. A writhing tide of blight-worms surged towards me, their mandibles tearing at my skin. I writhed on the floor of the vat, screaming in agony. My blood flowed freely, and wherever it touched the blight-worms, they shriveled and died. But even so, a relentless flood of creatures continued to swarm, gnawing at my flesh. They were ravenous, a hunger driven to madness. I bit down hard on my lip, yet fractured, desperate wails still tore from my throat. Reed rose abruptly, his face a mask of terrible darkness. “Enough!” Tears streamed down my face, and then, mercifully, the pain consumed me, dragging me into unconsciousness. Memories flashed through my mind like a frantic, spinning kaleidoscope. Six years ago, Reed lay on the brink of death, consumed by poison. I invoked the Soul-Link Parasite, allowing the blight-worms to draw the venom from his body into mine. Though I used the clan’s ancient magic to suppress the Blight within me, clinging to life, I couldn’t halt its inexorable spread through my very being. My fate was sealed; death was a certainty. Yet I knew Reed loved me to his core. If I perished, he would surely follow, sacrificing himself in grief. So I used every cruel trick I knew, shattering his heart. I even entwined myself intimately with another man, right before his eyes. I told him he was a mere commoner, his lineage too lowly to ever be worthy of the Oracle of the Verdant Clan. I declared I was bored with him, that I wished only to sever all ties. To this day, that scene remains burned into my memory: Reed, who even after being stripped of his princely title and exiled to the frontiers, had never once bowed his head to another… knelt before me for the first time, pleading with me not to leave him. The day I banished him from the Verdant Wilds, the Blight within me flared, a torment so excruciating it felt like death itself. The Blight in my body would surge every seven days. If he had remained by my side, I could never have hidden it from him. Thankfully, he was gone. I lingered in the simple wooden cabin we had once shared, clinging to a thread of life for three long years. I heard he had reconnected with his former allies, returning to Crownsgate. I heard he had found a deep affection with Isolde, the General’s daughter, swearing eternal vows to her. I heard he had seized the throne, crowned Emperor. All the while, my body grew weaker, so frail I struggled to walk even a short distance. I never imagined Reed and I would meet again. The moment my eyes fell upon him, I understood: these three years of painful struggle had been for this last glimpse of him. He didn’t know the Blight had long since permeated my very bones, my flesh, which was why the blight-worms died the instant they touched me. Now, I was truly dying. … When I next opened my eyes, I found myself lying in the cold, desolate chambers of the neglected wing. A palace maid roughly smeared salve on my wounds, her tone laced with undisguised disgust. “It’s ill-omened to shed blood on a wedding day,” she spat. “That’s the only reason His Majesty spared your wretched life. Now that the Emperor and Empress are celebrating their new union, your death will come the moment he deigns to remember you.” A bitter smile touched my lips. I could only hope my failing body would last until Reed came to see me again. In the days that followed, the maidservants deliberately tormented me. My wounds, far from healing, festered and worsened. The maid made no secret of it. “The Empress said,” she announced, “just keep a breath in her. Nothing more. After all, His Majesty wishes to deal with you himself.” A sudden, sharp pang shot through my heart. So Reed truly hated me that much, wished to kill me with his own hands. Perhaps it was for the best. To die by Reed’s hand would surely be less torment than succumbing to the Blight’s relentless agony. But I never saw Reed. Instead, I saw someone who should never have been there: Rhys, the Sacred Son of the Verdant Clan. The day Reed marched his armies against the Verdant Clan, I had ordered Rhys to lead our people deep into the Shrouded Mire, a part of the Verdant Wilds. The Mire was cloaked in venomous miasma, teeming with monstrous creatures, a place armies dared not tread lightly. And I, alone, had remained to face the empty city. Reed had come for me. As long as I was here, he wouldn’t relentlessly pursue my people. Rhys saw my battered form, his eyes burning crimson with anguish. “Why didn’t you tell him, all those years ago, that it was you—” I cut him off. “What’s done is done. What meaning is there in speaking of it now? When I decided to conceal the truth from him then, I never intended for him to learn it.” Rhys looked at me, his gaze brimming with pain, his voice raw. “Rowan, I’ll take you away.” I shook my head. “There’s no need. Go, quickly. Don’t let a dying woman drag you down.” Rhys’s eyes trembled violently. “There’s still hope! I will find a way to save you!” Ignoring my protests, he swept me into his arms. Suddenly, the heavy doors of the desolate wing crashed open. Reed stood there, his face carved from ice, his eyes radiating a glacial chill that cut to the bone. Isolde’s voice was dripping with scorn and venom. “What a truly devoted pair you are, risking your very lives to rescue your beloved. Presumably, in the Oracle’s heart, the Sacred Son is her one true love. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have abandoned Reed for him three years ago.” Her words seemed to ignite a fresh spark in Reed, reminding him of my supposed abandonment for another man. Reed’s jaw clenched, his voice a tight, grinding rasp. “Rowan, you are just as you were three years ago! The humiliation you both inflicted upon me then, I will never forget. Guards! Seize this treacherous pair! I will have them torn apart, piece by piece!” The guards drew their blades, surging forward in a rush. With my last ounce of strength, I pushed Rhys away. “Go quickly, don’t mind me!” “Rowan, I won’t leave you!” Before he could finish, the guards swarmed him, dragging him down. Meanwhile, Reed’s hand closed like a vice around my throat. His voice, chilling as frost, whispered against my ear. “What do you take Crownsgate for? A place you can waltz in and out of as you please?” I gave a bitter laugh. “What is between you and me has nothing to do with him. Will you let him go?” The next instant, the hand at my throat tightened, veins bulging, and the suffocating darkness began to swallow me, inch by agonizing inch. Reed’s eyes blazed crimson as he hissed. “You show kindness to everyone else, so why do you reserve all your cruelty for me?” … I had no strength left to struggle, so I simply closed my eyes, the agony overwhelming. The next moment, Reed flung me violently to the ground. My already fragile body, unable to bear the impact, spasmed, and I coughed up a mouthful of blood. Rhys struggled furiously, but Reed’s boot pressed down hard, pinning him. Isolde stepped forward, feigning a look of pity. “Reed, it seems they are indeed two hearts deeply intertwined. Since that is the case, why don’t we fulfill their desire and let them die together?” At her words, Reed seemed to grow even more enraged. The blade in his hand hovered dangerously at my throat as he sneered. “Between you and him, only one can live. Which one will it be?” My heart felt like ash, and I closed my eyes, resigned. I was a dying woman. Why should another innocent life be sacrificed? The blade at my throat trembled violently, tracing a thin line of blood. I flinched at the sting, my brows furrowing, and opened my eyes. Reed’s face was etched with an unyielding coldness. “How could I ever let you die so easily? I will make you suffer a hundred, a thousand times more than I ever did!” With those words, his fury seeming to boil over, he landed a brutal kick to my stomach. I clutched my stomach, my face ashen with pain. But the next instant, a sudden, searing agony erupted in my chest, and my face contorted in a silent scream. The Blight had flared, prematurely. Once it began, it would rage for three hours, a torment worse than death. I writhed on the ground, desperate to clamp my teeth together, but my agonizing wails erupted, each one louder than the last. Tears spilled unchecked from my eyes, like a broken string of pearls, and blood gushed from my mouth, mouthful after mouthful. Reed froze, rigid. Rhys’s face paled instantly. “It’s the Blight in her! Reed, I beg you, save her! Don’t you understand—” Tears stinging my eyes, I shook my head, a silent plea to Rhys. Rhys’s lips trembled, unable to form words. Isolde gave a subtle signal, and a guard clamped a hand over Rhys’s mouth. She took Reed’s hand, her voice laced with mockery. “She’s the Oracle of the Verdant Wilds! What blight-poison in this world could she not master?” At her words, the anger and hesitation in Reed’s eyes solidified into cold resolve. “Rowan, do you think this little performance will make me release you? You dared to deceive me. Now you’ll taste the price of that deception.” At his command, the guards surrounded me, raining down punches and kicks. The blows rained down, but they were a distant ache compared to the soul-shattering torment of the Blight. My breaths grew shallow, my cries of agony fading to mere whimpers. For three long years, I had endured the bitter agony of the Blight. Now, finally, release was at hand. Reed’s gaze trembled, and a raw, anguished shout tore from his throat. “Enough!” He turned his back, unable to watch any longer. “Isolde, let’s go. This farce you wanted me to see, there’s nothing left to it.” He gently took Isolde’s hand, and they walked away. Rhys, unable to bear it, bit down hard on the guard’s hand. The guard yelped in pain and let go. Rhys’s voice, ripped from his very soul, bellowed. “Reed! When you were dying from poison all those years ago, Rowan used the Soul-Link Parasite to save your life! A life for a life! She’s dying, do you understand?!” …

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1 When the son of her ‘white moonlight’—Ethan—was kidnapped, he collapsed before me, his forehead striking the floor until blood ran red. “Leo is just a child. If you want to kill someone, take me instead.” I instinctively shielded my wife’s swollen eight-month belly, utterly baffled by his words. But Olivia’s face darkened. “I’ve been too lenient with you, haven’t I? How could you do something like this?” Olivia, who had always doted on me, now gripped my throat with bruising force. As my vision blurred, a chilling realization dawned: they believed I had hired the kidnappers for Leo. Because the ransom wasn’t delivered on time, the kidnappers mercilessly executed Leo. Ethan clutched Leo’s broken body, teetering on the edge of suicide. Olivia, her eyes raw and red, brought in the top experts in bioengineering. After a sleepless month of frantic work, they finally secured Leo’s cloned cells. But Ethan’s wife had died years ago. After a moment’s contemplation, Olivia’s gaze fell upon my eight-month pregnant wife—the one carrying my child. I shook my head in horror, kneeling and clutching Olivia’s belly. “Olivia, I sympathize with Ethan’s suffering, but I swear I had nothing to do with Leo’s kidnapping. You can’t do this to me!” “Alex, Ethan’s wife passed away years ago. Leo was his only hope for survival. Even if you were jealous, you had no right to harm his child.” “This is what you owe Leo.” She completely ignored my desperate pleas, brutally forcing the premature delivery of our child. Our little Noah was full-term; he cried when they pulled him out, but they smothered him, silencing his cries forever. I never even saw the face of the child we had conceived in hope and love before Olivia turned and walked back into the operating room. Having just lost our own flesh and blood, my wife was now preparing to carry the bloodline of my supposed enemy. I stormed into the operating room, sweeping every instrument from the trays, desperate to stop them from performing the implantation surgery on Olivia. Olivia’s gaze turned to ice. “Alex, if you continue this tantrum, don’t blame me for what comes next!” Seeing that I wouldn’t leave, Olivia ordered them to immediately perform a vasectomy on me. I struggled with all my might, fighting to stay awake even as they injected me with an excessive dose of anesthetic. My resistance prolonged the procedure, and with Leo’s precious cells on the verge of dying, Olivia walked back in, carrying the tiny body of our child. Watching Noah, his eyes tightly closed as if asleep, my heart bled tears. Olivia’s hand clamped around Noah’s neck. “Comply now. If Leo’s cells die and the surgery fails because of you, your child won’t get a proper burial either.” “Olivia! That’s your flesh and blood too!” I screamed, my voice tearing, but my body grew heavier, more sluggish. “You’re a father yourself. How could you be so cruel to Leo?” Olivia looked at me with a pained, reproachful gaze. It wasn’t me. But no one believed me. My body slowly lost the strength to fight the anesthetic. Consumed by grief and injustice, I closed my eyes. When I woke again, my hands and feet were secured tightly to the hospital bed. The two fresh wounds on my lower abdomen confirmed it: not only had Noah truly left me, but I had also been stripped of my right to be a father forever. And in my wife’s womb, the bloodline of my supposed enemy now thrived. I lost the will to live, biting down hard on my tongue. Olivia pushed open the door. Seeing the pristine white sheets stained crimson with the blood gushing from my mouth, she rushed forward, pinching my cheeks, forcing my mouth open. I clenched my jaw, letting out a hollow, desperate laugh as I stared at her. Her eyes burned crimson. She summoned every doctor in the hospital again. I thought she was worried about me, but after the frantic rescue, she slapped me hard across the face. “I’m warning you, you won’t commit suicide to escape punishment until Leo is safely born.” 2 She looked down at me. I stared at the canine tooth that had been knocked out and lay on the floor, my heart a barren wasteland. To prevent another suicide attempt, she ordered them to fit me with a bite guard. I had lost a portion of my tongue and could no longer speak clearly, though it made little difference. No one listened to me anyway. Once my tongue had fully healed, I was no longer restricted to a liquid diet. Olivia personally brought in a bowl of broth. She sat silently beside me, gently removing the bite guard with soft, careful movements, just as I had once cared for her when she was pregnant. “Alex, making your son give up his place for Leo was your punishment. As long as Leo is born healthy, Ethan won’t pursue this any further.” She chattered on, but I offered no response. “I forced the delivery of our child to teach you a lesson. Life isn’t a game. If you admit your mistake, we can try for another baby.” I couldn’t hold back any longer. I twisted my head to look at her, but my gaze froze on the contents of the bowl. There, unmistakably, was our baby’s placenta, prepared as a grotesque ‘tonic.’ I gagged, a wretched sound, and vomited. Olivia meticulously wiped the filth from the corners of my mouth with a wet wipe. The next moment, she clamped my jaw shut and forced a spoonful of the sickening mass down my throat. “Alex, this is highly nutritious. You’ve just had surgery; it will help your body recover.” I wanted to struggle, but my hands, feet, and head were all restrained. I could only endure as the boiled, mangled substance slid down my throat. Seeing that I had swallowed it all, Olivia released her grip. “Ethan’s mental state is still fragile. I’m taking him abroad to clear his head. During this time, you’re to stay home, diligently praying and meditating for Leo, and don’t cause any more trouble.” “If you behave, I’ll find a good resting place for Noah. But if Leo complains to Ethan in a dream that you haven’t prayed enough, you won’t get Noah’s complete ashes back.” “Wasn’t Noah your child too?” I managed to ask, the salty tears streaming down my face, more bitter than any sorrow in my heart. Her footsteps paused, but she didn’t turn back. “With a father like you, he would have been a curse even if he had lived.” The door closed. The last ember of feeling I held for Olivia extinguished then. Her departure lasted nine long months. During those nine months, I spent every day praying and meditating for Leo, fasting and becoming a shadow of a man. He seemed to sense my hatred. With every word I uttered, my head throbbed as if caught in an iron vise. Migraines relentlessly pounded through me every single day for nine months. I rapidly withered, my body gaunt, my eyes bulging, eerily prominent. Olivia called daily, not to check on me, but to supervise my unwavering devotion to Leo’s spiritual journey. Ethan even leaned into the phone, pressing his ear to Olivia’s swollen belly, talking to Leo from across the video call. To ensure I couldn’t escape my duty, my hands and feet were shackled to Leo’s makeshift memorial for nine months. The wounds from my struggles had long since fused with the shackles, but no one cared, as long as the candles and incense for Leo’s memorial never dwindled. In the month leading up to the delivery, Olivia and Ethan finally returned from abroad, their reluctance palpable. “Why are you so thin?” That was the first thing Olivia said to me after nine months. 3 “So weak, you didn’t let Leo’s memorial rituals falter, did you?” Seeing the thick layer of ash beneath Leo’s incense burner, Olivia nodded in satisfaction. “Once Leo is born, I’ll make sure you get good care to recover.” “Leo, Daddy finally gets to see you again. This time, I’ll never leave your side, I swear you’ll never be harmed again.” Ethan looked at Olivia’s heavily pregnant belly with a gaze full of fatherly love. “Olivia, could you leave me alone with Leo’s memorial for a moment?” Olivia immediately looked at me with suspicion. After confirming that I, in my near-dead state, posed no threat to Ethan, Olivia left the memorial room, glancing back constantly. Ethan’s gentle expression vanished instantly. “Leo’s death? I orchestrated the whole thing myself.” His eyes were fixed on me, a smile playing on his lips, utterly devoid of warmth. “Do you know why I did it?” Ethan leaned in close, his nose almost touching mine. He carried the subtle, woody scent of Olivia’s perfume, the very one I had personally chosen for her before she conceived Noah. My eyes held a blank indifference; I offered no response. “Five years ago, Mr. Caldwell, to break up Olivia and me, didn’t hesitate to orchestrate a cruel deception, having someone pose as my wife and seize everything I had, forcing me out of the country. Olivia had promised me she’d never marry another. But when I finally managed to escape Mr. Caldwell’s influence abroad and rushed back to find Olivia, I learned she had married you a year ago!” Ethan’s expression turned vicious. “I suffered so much abroad, yet she never once tried to contact me. I thought Mr. Caldwell was controlling her, but then I found out she’d completely forgotten about me!” “I had Olivia first! What right did you have to steal her?” “And I thought you were some scion of an esteemed lineage, someone who could match Olivia’s status. Turns out, you’re just an orphan, a nobody compared to me!” Ethan grew more agitated with each word, then slammed a fist into my face. A metallic tang of blood filled my mouth. I spat the blood directly onto his face. He seemed unable to comprehend that I would dare do such a thing. He furiously wiped his face, his expression even more distorted with the blood smears. “To win back a worthless woman, would you truly sacrifice your own flesh and blood?” He froze. Then, he laughed. “A worthless life with no name, what good is it alive?” “Since it’s useless, why not gamble with it?” “I only meant to use him to get rid of you and the bastard in her womb. But who knew Olivia cared so much about me? She even found a way to resurrect Leo with cloning technology! I never imagined she’d go to such lengths for us, father and son.” “The ‘worthless woman’ you speak of wields power enough to bring the dead back to life. Do you still think I was wrong to gamble my own flesh and blood to win her back?” “If you had cooperated back then, Olivia might have even kept some of your child’s hair or fingernails. Too bad she rushed to cremate every last trace of him~” Mentioning Noah stirred an uncontrollable surge of emotion within me. I snarled, wanting to lunge and bite Ethan. He laughed, taking a large step back, but a high-pitched shriek, incompatible with his smirk, escaped his throat. “Ethan!” Outside the door, Olivia’s frantic footsteps grew closer. Ethan, without hesitation, bit hard into his own palm. My breathing quickened. With a crash, Olivia kicked open the door and burst in. 4 Ethan had successfully bitten his right hand until it bled profusely, then replaced his pained expression with one of tearful sorrow. However, Olivia’s anxious gaze only lingered on his wounded hand for a fleeting moment. She stood frozen, then suddenly crumpled, sobbing, to the floor. Ethan’s shriek had startled her, triggering premature contractions. Olivia’s water broke. She had no time to mediate Ethan’s grievance. Even so, Ethan’s face contorted with a venomous expression. This terrifying man, who even envied his own son. Olivia swiftly summoned the most skilled obstetricians, but upon seeing the injury on Ethan’s hand, she coldly commanded: “Perform a C-section. And while I’m in surgery, castrate Alex too. Don’t give him any anesthetic. Let him watch his testicles being removed, fully conscious!” “My apologies, Mr. Caldwell.” After seeing Ethan escort Olivia away, the doctor put on his gloves, speaking softly and sympathetically to me: “Don’t blame me. I’ll make it as quick as possible, to spare you some suffering.” The moment the cold scalpel sliced into my skin, my soul vibrated with pain. I learned then that a human could be butchered like a piece of dead meat, stripped of all dignity. I screamed until my throat bled, losing consciousness several times. To keep me awake, the doctors had to inject me with adrenaline. By the end, I had completely lost all sense of self, forgetting I was even human. Leo’s first cries were like a pardon for me. The moment I heard Olivia had delivered, the male doctor on the surgical team quickly injected me with a painkiller. “Mr. Caldwell, it’s all over. Get some rest.” As I closed my eyes, the agony throughout my body vanished instantly. I thought it was just the painkiller working. My body grew lighter, relaxing completely, but then I found myself floating uncontrollably. When I opened my eyes again and saw myself from a bird’s-eye view, looking down at my mutilated self on the operating table, I realized I was already dead. If the entire operating room hadn’t been empty except for me, I wouldn’t have believed the person on the table was myself. After losing Noah, I hadn’t looked in a mirror. My once-muscular physique was gone. Skeletal limbs, wrists, and ankles bore permanent scars where my struggles had caused the long-term shackles to fuse with and then tear my skin. I gazed for a long time at my shattered, unrecognizable form. The operating room door opened. It was Olivia. Even in death, my soul trembled uncontrollably. What was she doing here? Did she think the punishment she’d inflicted wasn’t enough? If she discovered I was dead, would she grieve, or would she resent me for dying too soon, for not suffering enough to atone for Leo? She cradled her waist, carrying in a basin and a kettle of boiling water. Did she think I was sleeping instead of serving her after childbirth, and planned to scald me awake? She poured in the boiling water, then added cold, repeatedly testing the temperature with her hand. I began to feel confused. Apparently satisfied with the temperature, Olivia took out a soft towel, soaked it in the basin, then wrung out the water. She lifted one of my arms and meticulously began to wipe it with the towel. Olivia was washing my body. I let out a disbelieving, hollow laugh. After tormenting me to death over a crime she’d wrongly pinned on me, was she now staging some tender act? I couldn’t wait to see the expression on Olivia’s face when she realized I was truly dead. To my shock, the next moment, my corpse opened its eyes.

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The day before my wedding, my fiancée, Rebecca Grant, suddenly declared she was marrying my best friend, Leo Dalton. Double-crossed and humiliated, everyone waited for my spectacular downfall. But then, Scarlett Monroe, a prominent socialite and CEO from the Capital City, descended from the sky, as it were, and declared her feelings for me. Scarlett and I married. After that, I settled into life as a devoted homebody, teaching at the university, managing the household, and learning to be a stay-at-home husband. Some time later, at a business gala, I went to pick up a heavily intoxicated Scarlett. I overheard her brother speaking sympathetically about me: “Scarlett, isn’t the Dalton Mall you’ve built opening soon? You’ve sacrificed so much to pave the way for Leo, even your own marriage, manipulating Ethan. How long do you plan to fool him?” Scarlett’s voice was filled with a bitter resignation. “As long as Leo is happy, I will clear every obstacle for him.” It dawned on me then: all the affection, all the profound love, could be an act. I, Ethan Hayes, was just another pawn in their elaborate game. So, I decided to walk away. … Clutching a thermos of hangover remedy, with Ms. Davies, my secretary, by my side, I hurried to the gala at The Grand Crown Hotel. The server informed me that Scarlett was resting in the VVIP suite. Before I could even push open the door, a strong scent of alcohol wafted out. Through the door, I heard a familiar male voice: “Scarlett, isn’t the Dalton Mall you’ve built opening soon? All these years, you’ve sacrificed so much to pave the way for Leo, even your own marriage, manipulating Ethan. How long do you plan to fool him?” A jolt of confusion hit me. I was about to push the door open when I heard Scarlett’s voice, tinged with bitterness and heavy with drink: “Brother, as long as Leo is happy, I can keep up this act for a lifetime. I will clear every obstacle for Leo.” I was struck by lightning, my hand freezing mid-air. Ms. Davies, beside me, gave me a knowing but sympathetic look, her gaze anxious. So, everyone knew. Only I had been living in a fool’s paradise. The elegant strains of the cello from the hotel lobby seemed to twist into a discordant shriek in my ears, utterly grating. “Ethan loves you so much. What if, one day, he finds out the truth?” “He never will.” Inside the warm hotel, a shiver ran down my spine. I lowered my voice, speaking to Ms. Davies. “Ms. Monroe has had too much to drink today. Bring her out in a moment. I’ll wait for you in the car. Remember, don’t say anything you shouldn’t.” I sat in the car, staring blankly at the starry ceiling. Years of memories flashed through my mind like a slideshow, frame by agonizing frame. Rebecca, my fiancée, had suddenly broken off our engagement, causing a scandalous uproar. Everyone waited for my spectacular downfall, but then Scarlett appeared, claiming she had loved me for a long time. Caught in the eye of the storm, I was moved by her, deciding to marry her, creating a heartwarming tale in the Capital City’s elite circles. Now, it was clear: this marriage, woven from deceit, was nothing more than a cruel joke. Ms. Davies helped Scarlett into the car. Seeing me, Scarlett paused, surprised. Her misty eyes cleared instantly, and she leaned her head against my shoulder. “It’s just a gala. Ms. Davies could have picked me up. You work hard teaching and writing papers for your students; you don’t need to be running around.” I forced a tender smile. “I was just worried about you.” She embraced my arm, her voice soft. “The company’s new mall opens tomorrow; I might be busy very late. You go to sleep first, don’t wait for me. The weather’s been erratic lately, so take care of yourself.” Late that night, I tossed and turned, unable to sleep. I remembered I’d left my headphones in the study. In the study, a few pages peeked out from a drawer under the desk. Usually, this drawer was locked. On an impulse, I pulled, and it opened. Inside were design blueprints for all of Scarlett’s company’s current and future development sites and commercial properties, along with a watch box. I flipped through the blueprints, page by page, and suddenly realized that the names of these plots and properties, even some of their floor numbers and logos, all, without exception, featured the word “Dalton”: Dalton Mall, Dalton Heights residential complex, Dalton Jewelers… Although I was an architecture major, Scarlett had always told me she had her own team, and I rarely interfered with company affairs. It became chillingly clear: every corner of her business world was etched with her endless love for Leo. I opened the watch box. It was empty, but the certificate was still there. It was for a Richard Mille Gem-Set Crystal timepiece. I had always liked this watch; I’d even opened my phone once to look at it repeatedly. Scarlett had glanced over and said, “Ethan, a watch like that, worth ten or twenty million, is highly overpriced, and too flashy for school. How about I get you an iWatch instead?” I remembered that yesterday, in a picture on social media, Leo Dalton was wearing that very Richard Mille watch on his wrist. I walked out to the balcony. The night was deep, the wind cuttingly cold. My eyes burned, a familiar prickle of tears. My phone screen lit up, a message popping in: “Mr. Hayes, are you sure you’ve made up your mind?” “I have.” It was time to leave. The next morning, as I was leaving the house, I called out to Scarlett. “I’m going to Paris tonight.” She looked surprised. “Why so sudden?” My heart ached, but I feigned nonchalance. “Paris University is hosting an international academic exchange. I just got the notification.” She kissed my cheek lightly, not sensing my sorrow. “Don’t work too hard. Come back as soon as the conference is over.” I couldn’t help but marvel at how perfectly someone could feign such profound affection. Since everything was a lie, it was time for me to completely exit this farce. I remembered the address of her new mall from the blueprints and drove directly there. After today, I would completely disappear from Scarlett’s world. This would be our last farewell. Inside the mall, a designated area had been set up. Scarlett stood out vividly in the crowd, her high heels clicking, her aura commanding as she mingled with guests. Leo’s handsome face broke into a smile. He raised his glass to Scarlett. “Ms. Monroe, congratulations!” Scarlett’s eyes shimmered with complex emotions as she clinked glasses with Leo. “Mr. Dalton, it’s thanks to your top-notch design that our Dalton Mall is so magnificent, attracting so many customers right from its opening.” She emphasized “our mall.” My heart clenched. I walked towards them. Scarlett’s eyes widened in surprise when she saw me, then quickly softened into her usual gentle expression. “Why are you here?” I forced a smile. “What? Am I not welcome?” Scarlett put down her glass. “How could you say that? I was just worried about distracting you from your work.” Leo glanced at me, his eyes full of hidden meaning. Just then, Ms. Davies hurried over. “Ms. Monroe, it’s time for your speech.” Scarlett said to me, “Then you rest a bit. I’ll be right back.” With that, she hurried onto the stage. I picked up a glass of champagne and sat down. Leo walked over, his voice dripping with mockery. “Long time no see, Ethan. My… dear brother. What? Starting to check up on her now? Why don’t you just tie Scarlett to your hip! How does it feel to be a kept man?” He leaned in, his voice a low sneer. “You better remember, you’ll always be my inferior.” He laughed heartily, and as he raised his hand, the Richard Mille watch on his wrist glinted, painfully bright. Leo and I were once the best of friends, so close we decided to study architecture together. But after my fiancée, Rebecca, broke off our engagement and married Leo, we became bitter enemies. Betrayed in both friendship and love, I was utterly devastated. Just when I thought my life had plunged into endless darkness, Scarlett’s appearance brought light back into my world. After deciding to marry Scarlett, she suddenly told me, while we were preparing for an international architecture competition: “Ethan, aren’t you very fond of the academic environment at the university? Why don’t you give up your company work and just focus on teaching and writing papers?” Moved, I immediately sold my architectural design firm and withdrew from the competition. The ultimate winner of that international architecture competition was Leo Dalton. He became an internationally renowned architect, while I became “Professor Hayes,” busy with lectures and grading. Thinking back, Scarlett must have been clearing obstacles for Leo from the very beginning. I looked up at the interior of the mall. The structural design was incredibly familiar, so familiar I wondered if I was hallucinating, yet some parts were modified in an awkward, ill-fitting way. My heart began to pound violently. I had an old design blueprint saved on my computer. After abandoning my architectural career, I hadn’t opened it again. How did my old design blueprint become Leo’s design now? And how was it built into a mall by Scarlett? I suppressed the confusion churning in my mind, casting a cold glance at Leo. Just as I was about to speak, I heard him bellow, “Ethan! What are you doing?!” “Ah—” Before I could react, Leo suddenly stumbled and fell, clutching his calf and lying on the ground, his face contorted in pain. A collective gasp rippled through the crowd. “Quick! Call an ambulance!” “Someone fell! Get a doctor!” People crowded around, their gazes complex as they looked at me. Amidst the clamor, I saw an all-too-familiar figure. “Leo!” It was Scarlett, my wife for three years. Her face filled with panic, she rushed off the stage, pushing me aside. She knelt by Leo, asking anxiously, “Is your leg okay?” Just then, a doctor arrived. Scarlett carefully helped Leo onto a stretcher. She stood beside me, barely suppressing the fury on her face, and said, “I know you two had a falling out, but you shouldn’t have pushed him. Don’t you know he just recovered from breaking his leg skiing a while ago?” I looked at her, as if I had never truly known her. My voice trembled slightly. “Why? The design of this mall… it’s so similar to the blueprint on my computer?” Scarlett frowned. “How would I know? What blueprint? Architectural design uses standard software, it’s normal for things to look similar!” I couldn’t help but give a bitter, wry smile. My home computer, apart from the housekeeper, was only accessible to her. Sensing my displeasure and suspicion, she changed the subject. “I was too rash just now. I was just worried it would affect our future business partnership with the Dalton and Grant families. After all, Leo is still our chief designer, and I don’t want you to have trouble.” Seeing my expression, Scarlett softened her tone, grasping my hand tightly. “Let’s have lunch together. I’ll ask Ms. Davies to find a place. I’ll come over after I’ve dealt with things here. I’ll handle the Daltons and Grants.” I nodded. I almost admired Scarlett now, for being able to act to such an extent for Leo’s happiness. When I entered the Starlight Hotel’s top-floor restaurant, which offered the most expansive view, I received a few messages from Scarlett: “Leo’s leg is fine, just a scratch.” “Rebecca also said she won’t press charges.” I stood by the window, quietly watching the birds fly by, and replied to Scarlett: “Hm, that’s good.” Just as I was about to put down my phone, Leo sent me a stack of photos and a string of messages. “Oops, wrong recipient.” I zoomed in on the photos. Leo was drinking tea, selecting items. The slender hand of the person opposite him wore a familiar Van Cleef & Arpels limited edition bracelet – a birthday gift I had given to Scarlett. I sat on the sofa, waiting for a very long time, until the sun began to set. Scarlett didn’t come. I called Scarlett. It connected instantly.

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On my daughter’s eighteenth birthday, I scrolled through a social media post from a parent in her class. “So fortunate to be invited to my child’s best friend’s birthday celebration.” A smile touched my lips. It was good for my daughter to make more friends. But as I looked closer at the photos, a wave of confusion washed over me. A lavish birthday party was in full swing inside my villa, yet the figure at the center of the crowd was a stranger. And the dress she was wearing… wasn’t that the million-dollar gown I’d custom-ordered for my daughter? The more I looked, the more wrong it felt. I accessed the security cameras in our home. What I saw made my blood run cold: the unfamiliar girl, smiling sweetly, escorted a woman onto a central stage. She formally introduced her to everyone present. “This is my mother, Ms. Sinclair, CEO of Sinclair Industries.” And my daughter? She was on her knees nearby, a group of people pressing her head down, forcing her to lick cream off the floor like a dog. Rage shook me to my core. She was the CEO of Sinclair Industries? Then who, in God’s name, was I? 1 “Ms. Sinclair, congratulations on your recovery. You’ll be discharged in a few days.” In the exclusive recovery clinic, the director held a bouquet of flowers, smiling as he congratulated me. A faint smile touched my lips as I picked up my phone, ready to share the good news. But the next second, I saw a post on social media from Ms. Evans, whose daughter, Emily, was in my daughter’s class. I had never publicly disclosed my identity as the CEO of Sinclair Industries, wanting my daughter to blend in more easily at school. Today was my daughter’s birthday. The venue for the birthday party in Ms. Evans’s video, and the dress worn by the guest of honor, felt disturbingly familiar. Upon closer inspection, wasn’t this my house? Even more unbelievably, the exquisite gown I had commissioned for my daughter, costing a fortune, was now worn by someone else. I frowned. This dress was a gift for my daughter’s coming-of-age, a piece I had personally helped design. The gold thread and pearls alone were worth a fortune. A dark shadow passed through my eyes, and I immediately called Mrs. Peterson, our housekeeper. “Ms. Sinclair, Miss Clara is having her birthday party with her friends!” “Miss Clara said she loves all the things you sent back!” “Miss Clara is having birthday cake with her friends. She said she’ll call you back later.” After hanging up, I felt a deep sense of unease. Was I overthinking this? I messaged Ms. Evans, but she took a long time to reply. “It’s the kids’ business, we parents don’t interfere much,” she stammered, unable to give a clear answer. “What do we parents know about these things?” Soon after, when I checked her social media again, I found she had blocked me. I couldn’t help but call my daughter’s homeroom teacher. “Hello, Mr. Chen, this is Clara’s mother.” “I just wanted to check on Clara recently…” But the voice on the other end was full of impatience. “You’re Clara’s mother? Why are you only calling now?” the voice snapped. “I’m her new homeroom teacher. Mr. Chen has already left.” A pang of guilt struck me. For the past two years, due to my health, I’d been recuperating abroad. I hadn’t even known her teacher had changed. However, her next words made me jump. “Mrs. Davies, there’s something I need to say, whether it’s appropriate or not!” she barked. “As the child of the Sinclair family’s housekeeper, it’s already a great privilege that Ms. Sinclair allowed your Clara to enroll here. I never imagined your daughter would be so ungrateful, taking leave every other day!” “And her tuition for the current semester still hasn’t been paid! You need to settle it immediately.” “Honestly, I don’t know why she can’t be more like young Miss Sinclair!” With that, she contemptuously hung up. I nearly crushed my phone. I, a housekeeper? Someone had usurped my and my daughter’s identity? I was furious, then burst into a cold, mocking laugh. I immediately booked a flight back home. I was going to find out exactly what had been happening in my house. At six in the evening, I walked out of the airport, my luggage in hand. I was eager to meet this “Ms. Sinclair” who had seemingly appeared out of thin air. When I arrived at the company, everyone looked at me in shock. “Ms. Sinclair… why are you back so suddenly?” They all knew the true power behind Sinclair Industries was this Ms. Sinclair. No matter how authoritative Mr. Davies seemed, he was merely a figurehead. The one who truly held everyone’s fate in her hands, who had built Sinclair Industries from the ground up, was the iron-willed woman standing before them. “My dear, why are you back so suddenly?” Arthur Davies looked at me, his eyes full of a profound guilt. He seemed to have just rushed back from somewhere; usually so meticulous about his appearance, his clothes were noticeably wrinkled. I smiled, straightening his collar, pretending not to notice the faint red lipstick mark on it. “New cologne?” I asked, a hint of a smile playing on my lips. A flicker of panic crossed Arthur’s eyes. The new YSL fragrance was the number one women’s perfume. “Oh, it’s nothing! Our daughter, she’s grown up and cares about looking pretty now, and she accidentally dropped a bottle of perfume when she went out. It shattered and splashed all over me.” His face was filled with doting affection, as if he were truly a father spoiling his daughter. “Is that so?” I watched him spout such blatant lies, then scoffed. My fingers casually scrolled through the social media account of this “Miss Sinclair.” Every single limited-edition piece of jewelry I had bought for my daughter abroad was now adorning her. “Arthur, can you tell me how these things, which I acquired for our daughter, ended up on Mrs. Peterson’s granddaughter?” My eyes gleamed with sarcasm. “Don’t tell me it’s a coincidence. Every piece of jewelry is one-of-a-kind.” My assistant had already thoroughly investigated the girl’s identity: Mrs. Peterson’s granddaughter, Madison Peterson. I let out a mocking laugh. Mrs. Peterson had truly raised her well. No wonder everyone assumed she was the young lady of the Sinclair family. Seeing me produce the photos, panic flashed in Arthur’s eyes, but he quickly composed himself, looking at me with disapproval. “It’s like this, my dear. Mrs. Peterson is getting on in years and some chores are difficult for her, so she asked Madison to help out. Madison and Clara hit it off and are like sisters. They’ve been living and eating together for the past two years.” He smiled, an oily, placating expression. “Darling, it’s normal for girls to share, isn’t it?” Rage made me laugh. Normal? Sure enough, Arthur soon received a phone call. His face visibly paled, and he looked at me with incredulity. “My dear, why did you freeze my bank accounts?” I looked at him, concealing a dark intent in my eyes. “Arthur, where exactly did you pay our daughter’s tuition fees?” “Clara herself didn’t want to study, and she even broke school rules.” He tried to defend himself. “Don’t you believe me? Why don’t you ask Clara?” “I will investigate thoroughly.” With that, I turned and left. A chilling resolve settled in my heart. Since childhood, I knew my daughter’s character better than anyone. When she was little, she always begged me to sign her up for various music, dance, and art classes, claiming these were essential for becoming a princess. Now, in her final year of high school, she was on the verge of entering her dream university! A few years ago, Mrs. Peterson, our housekeeper, had moved into our home. Her cooking was beloved by my daughter, so I kept her on staff to manage my daughter’s daily life. However, I suddenly had a relapse of my old illness and had no choice but to entrust the company to Arthur. During this time, Arthur consistently assured me that our daughter was doing well. He even claimed she had made a good friend, Mrs. Peterson’s granddaughter. I frowned, arriving back home. My daughter was on the sofa, looking at me timidly. “Mom, you’re back.” She carefully tried to hug me, and I pulled her into my arms. But my daughter cried out in pain. Realizing something was wrong, I gently pushed up her sleeve. A landscape of greenish-purple bruises was revealed. A cold rage flashed in my eyes. “Who did this?” I asked, my voice low and dangerous. But Clara hid in my arms. “Mom, I just fell… I’m sorry, it’s Clara’s fault…” My daughter trembled, apologizing incessantly. Seeing my daughter’s unusual behavior, my heart ached. She wasn’t like this just a few years ago. It was all my fault. Now, no matter what, I wouldn’t leave my daughter’s side. I led my daughter gently back to my bedroom. “Mommy will stay with you tonight…” With me by her side, Clara seemed to relax. It seemed I had a lot to investigate. As I pondered, the bedroom door suddenly burst open with a kick. My daughter woke up, startled, trembling. A delicate figure in silk pajamas pointed at my daughter’s nose and cursed. “You bitch, who told you you could sleep here?” She stormed in, but stopped dead in her tracks the moment she saw me. “Who are you?” My face was utterly cold. “And why do you open the door without the owner’s permission?” The girl paused, surprised. “This is my parents’ house! Why would I knock?” I looked at her with chilling eyes. “Your mother? I don’t have a daughter like you…” My voice dropped to a menacing whisper. “Get out before I lose my temper.” The girl was about to explode, but Mrs. Peterson quickly rushed in, covering her mouth. “Madam, this is my granddaughter. Sometimes she sleepwalks. Please don’t mind her.” With that, she dragged Madison downstairs. She smiled, handing me a bowl of red date and white fungus soup. “Madam, Miss Clara didn’t eat dinner tonight. This is a dessert I prepared for her.” I nodded. “You can go now.” I subtly noticed my daughter seemed particularly resistant to the two of them being near her. “Clara, are you hungry?” I asked gently. “Have a little something.” My daughter shook her head. “Mom, I don’t want to eat… Mom, please, I don’t want to eat. I hate how I look right now.” I looked at my daughter. Her slender figure was gone, replaced by a dark, bloated form. For some reason, her face was covered in a dense rash of acne. “I don’t want to drink it…” My daughter kept repeating, looking at the bowl of white fungus soup. But I remembered how much she used to love this. “Alright, if you don’t like this, I’ll make you something else tomorrow.” My daughter seemed to breathe a sigh of relief, then quietly fell asleep beside me. I looked at the bowl of white fungus soup, a dark glint in my eye, and immediately dialed a number on my phone. “Assistant Lewis, I need you to help me send something for testing… Yes, now.” My voice was firm. “Also, I need you to retrieve all deleted security footage from the house, no matter the cost!” Assistant Lewis was incredibly efficient. Soon, the technical team provided the results. But the content they sent nearly made my heart explode. The most recent security footage was from my daughter’s coming-of-age party. Yet, on that day, in this house, the one wearing the million-dollar gown was not Clara! “Such a beautiful dress is wasted on you!” Madison’s voice echoed from the footage. “Trash like you only belongs with dogs. You were just lucky to be born well… but some things don’t belong to you, they’ll never be appreciated by you.” “I hear it’s your birthday today too,” Madison continued, her smile malicious as she threw a piece of cake onto the floor. “Here’s some cake for you!” “Hurry up and lick it clean, don’t waste it.” “You’re just the housekeeper’s daughter. Young Miss Sinclair is doing you a favor by letting you be her dog.” The people beside her echoed her words, some even grabbing Clara’s hair, forcing her face into the cake on the floor. Clara struggled, trying to reach out in a certain direction. “Asher…” The next second, Madison stomped her foot viciously on Clara’s hand. “You bitch, know your place!” “Asher is mine!” My daughter’s agonizing cries were drowned out by the music. Asher Kent, a childhood friend who had been Clara’s shadow since they were little, was now watching Clara with cold indifference, allowing Madison to debase her. I was boiling with rage. Just then, Assistant Lewis’s text message came through. “Ms. Sinclair… the food you asked me to test earlier… it contains a large amount of hormones…” Looking at my daughter’s distorted figure and scarred face, my heart ached. So that was it. Madison, so young, yet so vicious. If that was the case, I wouldn’t let her get away with this.

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My wife’s male assistant left the client waiting in the biting cold for four hours. I managed to salvage the situation, merely cautioning him at the meeting against repeating such a blunder. Yet, Leo Bezos, the assistant, feigned tears and outright slandered me. “Director Bloomberg,” he whimpered, “how can you twist the truth and steal my credit? You were too lazy to get out of bed; it was all thanks to me begging the client on my knees, otherwise the deal would have fallen through long ago.” My wife, Seraphina, fully aware of the truth, not only failed to set things right but promoted him to Vice President, breaking all protocol. Worse, she forced me to hand over the project to him. Every colleague watched, expecting me to flip the table and quit. But I dutifully signed the project transfer agreement. Seraphina thought I had finally learned my place, smiling sweetly as she promised, “Don’t you worry, once this project succeeds and the company goes public, I’ll finally settle down and bear you an heir for the Bloomberg family.” What she didn’t know was that the client’s principal was my former mentor. He overlooked the initial blunder only because he valued my capabilities. Now, with all the company’s capital invested in the project, her breach of contract by arbitrarily changing the lead would not only sink every penny but also expose her to colossal damages. 1 “Arthur Bloomberg, you think handing over the project just makes everything disappear? Not a chance!” Leo Bezos, my wife’s male assistant, had just turned on me, but he wasn’t satisfied. He intended to grind me into the dust, to reclaim the dignity he felt he’d lost at the meeting. The truth was an open secret among the colleagues, but none dared to take a side, their gazes fixed on my wife, Seraphina. Leo, seeing I wouldn’t admit fault, raised an eyebrow. “What? You’re a useless hack, and you don’t like being told?” I turned my head, glancing at Seraphina. We had been secretly married for ten years, a fact she consistently refused to acknowledge publicly. This time, she had entrusted a crucial project to Leo, intending to elevate his standing. But Leo, lazy and overconfident, had overslept, leaving the client waiting in the biting cold for four hours, prompting them to storm out in a fury. This project, however, was critical for the company’s public listing; there was no room for error. Seraphina had approached me, offering a deal: if I could win the project back, she would finally announce our marriage at the meeting. I had been overjoyed. I poured my heart and soul into salvaging the deal, finally regaining the client’s trust. Today, I had expected Seraphina to keep her promise. I even bought a new suit, and tucked away in my pocket was a gold ring I’d saved half a year’s salary for. But I never imagined Seraphina would break her word, condoning Leo twisting the truth and letting him snatch both my credit and the project from me. Leo, seeing me look at Seraphina, pounded the table in a fit of pique. “What are you staring at? If it weren’t for Seraphina, who still values your old ties, you’d have been fired long ago!” Seraphina shot me an apologetic glance, then responded sternly, “The penalty fine can be waived, but the year-end bonus is completely forfeited, Arthur. Be more careful next time; don’t make such elementary mistakes again.” Her words seemed to protect me, but in reality, they cemented the blame squarely upon my head. And of course. She was the boss. Without her tacit approval, how would Leo, a newcomer, dare to challenge me? Listening to the smug, mocking whispers of my colleagues, I didn’t get angry; instead, I let out a cynical laugh and unclipped my ID badge right there. “No need for such trouble. I’ll just resign now.” Seraphina looked at me with displeasure. “Nonsense! If you resign, what about all the projects you’re handling?” I calmly shrugged. “Director Bezos is exceptionally talented. I’m sure he’ll do a far better job than I ever could.” At my words, everyone’s expressions shifted. They knew perfectly well that the company’s current success rested entirely on my shoulders. If I left, all the ongoing projects would likely collapse, and they wouldn’t be able to coast on their commissions anymore. Colleagues who had sided with Leo moments before now rushed to persuade me. “Director Bloomberg, Seraphina was just joking! The company can’t function without you!” Leo, seeing the spotlight snatched from him, spat, “Arthur Bloomberg, are you trying to ruin everyone’s performance? Don’t be so selfish!” Seraphina raised an eyebrow, about to stop Leo from saying more, when he suddenly clutched his chest, sinking to his knees. “Sera, I’m having an attack! Arthur Bloomberg has angered me into one! Please, call an ambulance!” Seraphina immediately panicked. “Arthur, are you a block of wood? Hurry and help!” I took one look. Leo’s face was flushed with health; he kept winking at me provocatively. He was clearly feigning illness again. Seraphina, however, didn’t see through it. She barked orders at everyone to help carry Leo to the car. I turned to leave, but to my surprise, Seraphina, even in her haste, called out to me. “You’re the one who made Leo sick! Where do you think you’re going to hide? Get in the car; you’re coming with me to the hospital.” I didn’t want to go, but I also didn’t want Leo to extort me later, so I followed them. In the back seat, Leo lay in Seraphina’s arms, whimpering and groaning about the pain. “Sera, Director Bloomberg is trying to murder me…” Seraphina was utterly distraught, scolding me angrily. “Don’t you know he has a heart condition? Couldn’t you just talk things out like a normal person?” Seeing her like this, I was long used to it. Over Leo’s issues, Seraphina and I had argued, thrown tantrums, even smashed things. But no matter what I did, I couldn’t change Seraphina’s blatant favoritism towards him. Even this time, Leo had blatantly stolen my credit and project, then openly mocked me. I simply wanted to escape the continuous exploitation by resigning, but she saw it as me throwing a tantrum. If I were my old, hot-headed self, I would have already engaged in a furious debate with her. But in the year since Leo appeared, he had stolen Seraphina’s affection, stolen my share of project profits, and now he was even seizing the hollow victories, the mere illusion of success. I wondered if, given more time, he would try to snatch the very title of ‘husband’ from me. Living like this, I was truly, utterly exhausted. I nodded, vaguely. “Mm, it won’t happen again.” Because there wouldn’t be a next time for us. Seraphina looked at me, surprised, and seemed pleased by my apparent capitulation. She even offered a rare explanation. “I know your heart isn’t bad, it’s just your sharp tongue that gets you into trouble. Leo has a heart condition; I was just worried about him getting too stressed, so I went along with him. Besides, he’s your protégé; don’t you want him to go far?” Yes! Leo was my protégé, and I was the one who personally introduced him to Seraphina. He was a struggling student I had sponsored, covering his university tuition and medical expenses. When he couldn’t find a job after graduation, I arranged an assistant position for him. But he wasn’t content being a mere assistant for life, so he pleaded with me to teach him design. Every day, I would sacrifice three hours of my own rest to teach him hand-in-hand. I knew he had a heart condition, so I asked Seraphina to look after him. But I never expected Seraphina to look after him so excessively. One day, I went to Seraphina’s office to discuss work, only to find them sharing an ice cream. Seeing this, a surge of anger rushed through me, and I confronted them immediately. That was the first time Leo feigned illness, and the first time Seraphina had ever given me a cold shoulder in front of others in all our years of marriage. She anxiously rushed Leo to the hospital, tending to his every need. Watching my own wife carefully care for someone else, my heart twisted. In ten years of marriage, I had never experienced her care. Once, I was doubled over with acute appendicitis, begging her to take me to the hospital, but she simply tossed a painkiller at me, her voice icy. “If you want to slack off, just say so. Don’t pretend. I despise people who feign illness more than anything!” Later, I had to call for an ambulance myself and get surgery. When she found out about my condition, she was still utterly disdainful. “Appendicitis? Everyone gets it. Stop acting like it’s a terminal illness, alright?” I thought she just had a tough exterior, a bark worse than her bite. But then I turned my head and saw Seraphina, a woman with severe germophobia, actually wiping Leo’s brow with her pristine sleeve. She anxiously urged the driver to speed up, as if Leo, not I, were her husband. I smiled bitterly, all my long-held convictions dissolving in that moment. I should have realized long ago. Her every action screamed the truth: she truly loved Leo Bezos, deeply and intensely. And I was merely a passing stranger in her life. I quietly messaged my mentor, telling him I had been cut from the project. He sent back a shocked emoji. [Arthur, come work for me.] I had rejected him countless times in the past. This time, I simply replied, “Okay.” To be with Seraphina, I had sacrificed my own promising future. Now, it wasn’t too late to turn back. I had to fight for myself. The ride to the hospital was silent. We brought Leo to the emergency room; his condition was perfectly fine. Once I received the news, I turned to leave. “Arthur Bloomberg, wait,” Seraphina called out, a sigh of relief escaping her. “I’ll go home with you.” She was about to link her arm with mine when Leo started feigning illness again, clutching his chest and groaning in pain. Seraphina sighed, then simply transferred five hundred dollars to me as compensation. “You go home first. Once the project is successful, I’ll give you the rest of your commission. And once the company goes public, I’ll return to family life. I promise you, I won’t break my word.” I vaguely mumbled “Mm.” I turned to leave, not bothering to collect the money she’d sent. I had no intention of continuing this life with her. My mentor was already preparing the legal documents, ready to sue her. Not only would the contract be terminated, but she would also face colossal damages. 2 On the way home, I received a barrage of taunting messages and videos from Leo Bezos. “Arthur Bloomberg, what good is being her husband when she’d gladly catch my vomit with her bare hands? Have you ever had that kind of treatment?” He was right. I hadn’t. When I was sick, she wouldn’t even pour me a glass of water, let alone care for me. “Arthur Bloomberg, is five hundred dollars enough for you? If not, I can transfer some more. Sera just transferred half a million to me after my ‘illness!’” I looked at the transfer record he sent. Seraphina truly did care for him. But her apologies to me were always grudging and miserly, while she’d casually drip-feed him tens of millions in spending money. I ignored his taunts, simply saving the evidence. Back home, I casually boiled some noodles, ate them, and went to bed. Late that night, Seraphina suddenly returned. She shook me awake. “Don’t sleep anymore. Leo’s sick. I’m letting him move in for a few days so I can look after him. Go clean up the guest room and change the sheets and duvet cover.” Annoyed at being woken, I turned over and continued to sleep. “You clean it yourself. I’m busy.” Leo, hearing my words, stormed in, frowning, and pointed an accusing finger at me. “Director Bloomberg, Sera was going to stay at my place. She only came back here to save your reputation as her husband! I’ve already agreed to impose on your home; Sera has begged you, too. Don’t push your luck!” Seraphina shook her head in disappointment. “You usually enjoy doing chores, don’t you? Are you deliberately targeting Leo right now?” Her voice was sharp. “He even told me he wouldn’t hold a grudge about you making him sick! How can you be so petty compared to your own protégé?” I let out a cynical laugh, not bothering to argue. “Right, right, it’s all my fault. You should definitely go stay at Leo’s place. You can look after him even better there.” Seraphina’s furious tirade stopped abruptly. Her eyes reddened with rage. “Arthur Bloomberg! What kind of husband pushes his wife into another man’s home?” She angrily punched me a few times, then ran out crying. After she left, Leo leisurely strolled in, giving me the middle finger in disdain. “Well, well, Master. I never thought you’d learn my tricks. But you’ll never outmaneuver me. Just you wait.” I didn’t listen closely, burying my head back into the pillow and falling into a deep sleep. The next morning, I woke feeling refreshed. As I walked into the living room, I was met with a rich, savory aroma. A lavish breakfast was laid out on the table. Seraphina, wearing an apron, seemed to have forgotten the previous night’s events. She pressed me into a chair and put a fried egg in my bowl. “Come, come, try this fried egg.” How strange. Seraphina never cooked. Had the sun risen in the west today? I was about to take a bite when I heard her muttering to herself. “Leo’s a picky eater. He won’t touch it if it’s even slightly burnt, and he won’t eat it if it’s too soft. Could you help me taste it…” I immediately put down my chopsticks. I had been a fool, deluding myself. How could she possibly be making breakfast for me? This meal was all thanks to Leo Bezos. Living like this, I was truly, utterly pathetic. I turned and walked into the room, retrieving the prepared divorce papers and handing them to her. Seraphina was busy with her cooking, not even sparing a glance. “The bone broth is still simmering on the stove. I’ll sign later.” I stopped her. “This is quite urgent. Sign it now; it won’t take long.” Seraphina sighed, took the pen, and quickly signed. She suddenly remembered something, casually asking, “Is this a new project you’re working on? I want Leo to join your team. Don’t worry, he won’t take any money; he just needs his name on it.” I carefully put the document away. Seraphina truly loved Leo deeply. She never forgot to seek benefits for him. But this time, she was destined for disappointment. “This isn’t a project. These are divorce papers.” 3 Seraphina froze. She still thought I was joking, as usual. She leaned forward, saw that it was real, and her face changed instantly. “What is the meaning of this? I merely let Leo stay for a few days! Why are you bringing up divorce?” As she spoke, she reached out to snatch the papers. I quickly hid them, looking at her. “Seraphina, wouldn’t it be better if I just let you two be?” Seraphina exploded. “Your thoughts are truly disgusting! I just see him as a little brother, nothing more!” Even now, after everything, she was still trying to deny it. I curled my lips into a cynical smile. “Is that so? There are so many impoverished students out there; how is it that you only ever recognize him as your ‘little brother’? Perhaps you should all swear blood brotherhood together.” My words completely enraged Seraphina. Her face cycled from green to purple, and she shrieked, “Fine! Divorced it is!” Leo, woken by the shouting, emerged from the guest room, wearing my pajamas, feigning concern as he tried to mediate. “Everyone, please stop arguing! If I’m causing problems between you two, I’ll just go die outside and never trouble Sera again.” Seraphina immediately forgot her anger, glaring at me. “Are you a dead man? Quickly, tell him you didn’t mean that! As long as you apologize to Leo, I’ll let everything that happened today go.” She thought I was just saying ‘divorce’ in a fit of pique, unaware that it was a deeply considered decision. I nodded. “Leo Bezos, your understanding is spot-on. That’s exactly what I meant.” Leo never expected me to actually retort. Losing face, he stormed out of the house in a rage, forgetting to even change his shoes. Seraphina’s face was ashen. She swept the entire breakfast table clean. The sandwich I had just pulled from the fridge was snatched from my hand and tossed into the trash. “Divorced, are we? Everything in this house was bought with my money! You don’t deserve to eat it!” Having spewed her venom, she then rushed off, chasing after Leo. Looking at the mess, I couldn’t be bothered to clean it up. Just as I was about to go out for food, my mentor called, inviting me to breakfast. I immediately changed and met him at a diner. “Arthur, how are things with your resignation?” I was about to say that Seraphina wouldn’t let me go when a notification popped up on my phone: my resignation had been successfully processed. “Director,” I said, a faint smile touching my lips. “It’s all sorted.” My mentor didn’t even wait to finish his porridge. He pulled out an employment contract. “Sign quickly! I brought the CEO’s seal with me, just in case you changed your mind!” Seeing his eagerness, I smiled. I didn’t let him down, glancing over the contract before signing it. He carefully put the contract away, then looked at me. “Are you free today? Accompany me to your company, will you?” Since I had nothing else to do, I agreed. After breakfast, I took him there. The moment I stepped into the company, I heard Leo Bezos’s sickly sweet, mocking tone. “Well, well, if it isn’t Arthur Bloomberg, the one who threatened to quit! What, just resigned and already regretting it?” Seraphina, alerted by the commotion, turned to look at me, letting out a cold scoff. “Leo, you don’t understand. Arthur’s old now; no one wants him. He can only come back begging us, otherwise he won’t even be able to afford a meal.” At that moment, the company was celebrating Leo Bezos’s promotion. A large cake sat on a workstation. Leo cut a slice, but instead of offering it to me, he smashed it right in front of me. “Director Bloomberg, since you’re my old mentor, if you lick that cake clean off the floor, I’ll let you come back to the company as a director.” My colleagues chimed in, mocking me. “No way! You can be a director just for eating cake? Director Bezos, why didn’t you offer us such a good deal? You’re clearly still biased towards your old teacher!” Leo chuckled, a sneer on his face. “Of course! Master painstakingly taught me everything; it wasn’t easy. As his protégé, I have to repay him, don’t I?” Seraphina stood by, watching me being humiliated and mocked. She didn’t defend me; instead, she even joined in, stepping on a blob of cream with her shoe. She pointed at the shoe-marked cream on the floor, addressing me. “Arthur Bloomberg, you don’t know this yet, but the company has already invested all its money into this project’s production line. If you eat that, I’ll let you have a share of the project’s profits. This money will be enough for you to live comfortably for the rest of your life. I’d like to see whether you choose money, or your dignity.” Looking at Seraphina’s contorted face, I smiled. “Is that so? Are you sure the collaboration can continue?” Seraphina raised an eyebrow, thinking I was bluffing, and let out a cold scoff. “You’re just an old-timer clinging to past glory; I’ve tolerated you for too long. This time, Leo has already ironed out everything with the client. They’re very satisfied. The company no longer needs you.” Leo also stepped forward triumphantly. “Master, you’re old. My abilities surpass yours. Get lost, don’t spoil our celebration!” No wonder. Seraphina had been so resistant to letting me go before, but had suddenly agreed to my resignation. It was because she thought Leo had already learned all my skills. I suddenly smiled and asked, “Director Hayes, are they telling the truth?” My mentor emerged from behind me, pulling off his sunglasses. His voice was a thunderous roar. “Nonsense! I’ve never even seen you before!” Only then did everyone realize that he was the principal client! Leo’s lie was exposed, and his face instantly turned ashen. Seraphina, too, had not expected my relationship with the client to be so close. But her grand pronouncements had already been made. Now, she had no choice but to push through, stubbornly. “Arthur Bloomberg, so what if you have a good relationship with the client? The contract has already been signed! Breach of contract demands five times the penalty fee! I don’t believe for a second he’d lose money just to help you out!” Before I could speak, my mentor scoffed, flipping open the contract to show Seraphina. “Look closely. You arbitrarily changed the lead. You are the one in breach of contract! Prepare five hundred million in funds. We’ll see you in court!”

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1 Becoming a concert pianist had always been my dream. But on the day of my Grand Master piano examination, a group of thugs suddenly stormed the venue. As I was about to complete my performance, they slammed down the heavy piano lid, then stomped on it repeatedly, with all their might. My fingers were instantly smashed to a bloody mess. I screamed, trying desperately to pull my hands free, but I couldn’t. I looked to my wife, Vicki, for help. Instead, I watched as she actually blocked my friends and the security guards who were trying to reach me. I only learned later that these thugs were there for Leo Maxwell. They meant to break his hands. But my wife had said: “You can’t touch Leo’s hands. Go for the pianist over there. He’s all yours.” My heart died that day. I decided then and there that I would divorce her. But later, she begged for my forgiveness. She even broke Leo’s hands, crying as she pleaded with me. … The piano lid slammed down with a sickening thud, struck by a thug’s bat. It was impossibly heavy. I screamed, a primal sound torn from my throat, frantically trying to yank my fingers from beneath the crushing weight. But the thug, a burly brute, stepped onto a bench and then jumped onto the piano, stomping down with all his weight, again and again. The pain was excruciating, shooting through every nerve, making me gasp for breath, cold sweat slicking my skin. “Stop it! Stop! Please, stop hitting! Just stop!” I begged, my voice hoarse. “I’ve never done anything to you! Why are you doing this to me?!” The thug looked down at me, a sneer twisting his brutal face. “No grudge, huh? Leo Maxwell put my brother in prison. I came for my revenge, but your wife stopped me. She said you were fair compensation. A pair of hands? That’s not too much to ask, is it, big-shot pianist?” “No… it’s impossible!” I twisted my head, my eyes wide with disbelief. Across the room, Vicki was directing a phalanx of bodyguards, shielding Leo in their midst, murmuring reassurances to him, telling him not to be afraid. My piano teacher, horrified, was trying to get past with the venue’s security, but Vicki stood in their way. “This is a private family matter,” she’d said, her voice sharp. “You don’t need to interfere.” My body trembled with a cold fury, unable to reconcile what I was seeing with reality. This was beyond absurd! The next second, I heard a sickening crunch, the unmistakable sound of bone shattering. Warm, sticky blood began to seep from beneath the lid, trickling down the polished piano keys. A wave of icy panic washed over me. I was terrified. Terrified I would never play piano again. Shame and dignity crumbled. I looked up at her, my voice raw with desperation. “Vicki, please! For the sake of our three years of marriage! Save me! Please, save me!” She merely glanced at me, her gaze cold and distant. “It’s because you’re my husband that I’m letting you do this. You’re truly disappointing me, Ethan.” Her voice was dismissive. “It’s just a few stomps, isn’t it? Leo has helped me so much. This is just you repaying a debt.” Hearing such cruel, venomous words spill from her beautiful, crimson lips felt like a knife twisting in my heart. In that moment, I couldn’t tell if my heart or my mangled hands hurt more. Four years of dating, three years of marriage. Did she not know that my dream was to be a concert pianist? That these hands were the most precious things I possessed? Seven years of a shared life, of supposed affection, shattered and crumbled into dust at that very moment. The thug continued to stomp on the lid, venting his twisted rage. As if that wasn’t enough, he began to kick my face, his foot grinding against my head, then he shoved the toe of his shoe into my mouth. My hands were pinned; I was utterly helpless to resist. And my wife stood by, utterly indifferent, her eyes fixed only on Leo, who had started to fake a heart attack again, drawing her concern. 2 My piano teacher’s eyes blazed with fury. “Vicki Hayes! As Ethan’s wife, not only do you refuse to save him, but you forbid us from helping?! Look at the state Ethan is in! Doesn’t your conscience ache, even a little?!” She spared me a cold glance. “So his hands got stomped on a few times? Is there really a need for all this melodramatic wailing?” She turned to me, her voice sharp. “Ethan Blackwood, can’t you be a man for once? A piano lid can’t possibly crush your hand! Stop feigning pity; it only makes me look down on you.” I was so weak, so broken, I barely had the strength to speak. My lips trembled as I whispered, “No, I’m not faking. My fingers… they’re broken.” Vicki couldn’t hear my faint words. She knitted her brows in annoyance. “Ethan Blackwood, will you stop acting like a child? A piano lid weighs nothing! How could it possibly break your hand? Stop trying to get sympathy; it’s pathetic.” My fingers were fractured, pulverized, a mangled mess, yet she called it “feigning pity.” My piano teacher stood beside her, sputtering with rage. She pointed a trembling finger at Vicki’s face. “Are you dense as a brick?! Do you have any idea that piano weighs six hundred pounds, and its lid alone is over a hundred? It’s even studded with jagged diamonds along the edge! And on top of that, a two-hundred-pound brute is jumping on it! If he isn’t rescued right now, his fingers will be ruined forever!” Her voice cracked. “He has such incredible piano talent, a future master! Just ruined like this! How can you be so cruel?!” Vicki paused, her expression momentarily faltering, a flicker of hesitation in her eyes as she listened to my teacher. Just then, Leo Maxwell nearby began to cough dramatically. “I truly envy Brother Ethan, having such a caring teacher!” He wheezed, then looked at Vicki. “Vicki, don’t worry about me. Just let these thugs beat me to death! Brother Ethan is a noble pianist, his hands are so precious. How could I let him suffer for me?!” Vicki immediately turned to Leo, soothing him with tender hands, then spun back to me and my teacher, her eyes blazing with pure disgust. “Get lost, you old hag! My husband and I’s business is none of your damn concern!” She scoffed. “What ‘noble pianist’? He’s nothing but a dog I keep! It’s his damn good fortune to help Leo! If his fingers are broken, they’re broken! Go home and stay there! It’ll stop you from prancing around and flirting with every woman in sight!” Each word that spilled from her lips was like a razor-sharp blade, slicing my heart into a thousand pieces. I had always deceived myself, clinging to the belief that her lingering connection with Leo was just some innocent nostalgia for her youth. At least I was the one she loved now, the one who held her. But in this agonizing moment, I finally understood: she had never loved me. Her heart belonged only to Leo. And I, in her eyes, was nothing more than a loyal, pathetic dog. The profound, all-consuming love I’d felt, for which I would have sacrificed everything, was, to her, nothing but a slobbering pug’s desperate tail wag. My anger surged, a hot, bitter wave, and I coughed up a mouthful of blood. 3 The brute still standing on the piano seemed to revel in the unfolding farce. He gave a triumphant bounce. With that final, jarring impact, my fingers were finally, irrevocably, torn from their roots. Something inside me shattered with an audible crack. I could no longer hold on, and the world spun into darkness as I slumped forward onto the piano. As I coughed up blood and fainted, the last image burned into my mind was Leo Maxwell leaning close to my wife, whispering something into her ear, making her laugh, her body shaking with delight. I closed my eyes in despair, two hot tears tracing paths down my temples. Vicki Hayes, all these years I spent with you… they were truly a mistake. If there was a way to undo it, a magic pill to erase you, I would take it. I would rather have never met you.

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1 For five years, every time I accidentally brushed against my wife Cassandra’s skin, she’d punish me by making me kneel in disinfectant and recite from “The Gentleman’s Code.” Until one day, I saw a faint, crimson mark on her collarbone, a subtle bruise of intimacy, and instinctively reached out to touch it. She erupted in a furious tantrum, slamming the door behind her as she left, but surprisingly, she didn’t order me to kneel in disinfectant. I naively believed she was slowly growing accustomed to my touch. But the very next day, my virginity was put up for auction, to be held among the city’s elite heiresses in two days’ time. Cassandra’s friends exchanged lecherous glances, already calculating their bids, but she remained utterly unmoved, repeatedly dousing herself in disinfectant. “The skin Noah’s lips have grazed, he dared to touch,” she sneered, “He thinks he’s what, exactly? Just looking at him makes me feel unclean.” “Noah Reed just got back from his trip. Cassandra waited so long for that kiss, and Ethan Hale, so utterly shameless, dared to touch her? He deserves a lesson.” Cassandra scoffed with disdain. “A lesson? Please. Five years of no one touching him, he’s probably ecstatic that some wealthy older woman will bid on his first night. You wouldn’t believe how desperate he is.” “It’s as if he can’t stand being without a woman!” A wave of mocking laughter followed, nearly shaking the roof. “Noah is allergic to his scent; it makes him nauseous. It forces Cassandra to sanitize herself every time she comes into contact with Ethan. He probably genuinely believes he’s unclean, hahaha!” “This auction is his chance to finally be a man, no longer bound by ‘The Gentleman’s Code.’ He must be thrilled!” Amidst the rising tide of ridicule, a cold dread washed over my face. It felt as if an invisible hand had gripped my heart, a pain so sharp that my vision blurred. Every time Cassandra accidentally touched me, she’d recoil as if I were a ghost. I’d even started to believe I carried some infectious disease, soaking myself in disinfectant every night. Over time, every inch of my skin became severely damaged; even a gentle breeze would irritate it, causing allergic reactions and a painful rash. Cassandra even had the double bed in our master bedroom replaced with two separate beds, terrified of catching my supposed “germs.” After countless desperate questions from me, Cassandra simply threw a medical report at me. “I have severe germophobia. Don’t you ever touch a single hair on my body again!” So this was it. All of it was because of Noah Reed—a casual remark, a fleeting “disgust,” an “allergy.” Such an absurd reason. Our families had been close for generations, and a childhood betrothal had been arranged. As we grew older, the engagement gradually faded from our families’ minds; everyone assumed we’d pursue relationships of our own choosing. But Grandmother Vance had been plagued by illness for years, and being a woman of strict, old-fashioned principles, she insisted we honor the marriage pact. She knew perfectly well that Cassandra harbored feelings for Noah, and I, at the time, was seeing someone. Yet, she remained unyielding, and we were powerless. In my hesitation, Grandmother Vance offered a lifeline. “I truly hope you two will make it work. But, to prepare for the worst, if Cassandra ever truly wrongs you, I will personally bring the signed annulment papers to ensure you are free.” But on our wedding night, she locked me out of our bedroom. I initially thought she just needed time to accept me, so I gave her all my patience, indulging her “germophobia.” But that wait stretched for five years. I endured five years of an unconsummated marriage, humbling myself to her every whim, only to uncover this devastating truth… I dialed Grandmother Vance’s number, my voice numb. “In two days, at the downtown auction, there will be ample proof that Cassandra has betrayed me. Please, Grandmother, release me.” I returned home very late. Cassandra, uncharacteristically, didn’t treat me with her usual cold disdain. Instead, there was a faint flicker of desire in her eyes. Yet, the key fob on the coffee table that wasn’t mine, and a pair of men’s briefs peeking from the sofa cushions, still pierced my heart. “You’ve always wanted to touch me, haven’t you? Five years. I don’t believe you haven’t wanted to at all.” I turned, startled, meeting her gaze, watching as a reddish tint slowly crept to the corners of her eyes. Was she truly willing to let me touch her? But remembering the vile things she’d said to her friends, I instantly averted my eyes. “I’m tired. I want to rest.” Cassandra heard my refusal, and the desire in her eyes immediately vanished, replaced by impatience. “You used to beg me to touch you. What’s wrong now? You’re my husband, behave.” With that, she forcibly pinned me against the wall, stripping every stitch of clothing from me, leaving me naked and exposed in the cold air. I gasped. The next moment, I was shoved into the master bedroom, but she remained outside, locking the door. The woman’s voice was cold as she tossed out, “I’m busy. You can stay in there by yourself tonight.” 2 I searched the entire bedroom but couldn’t find a single piece of clothing. Even the sheets and curtains had been removed. Just as I started to think it didn’t matter if I was naked in the room, a harsh glare from telescopes reflecting from the mansion across the street caught my eye. Several women jostled, vying for a better view. “That’s Ethan Hale, the one whose virginity is being auctioned! Cassandra’s having us ‘pre-inspect’ him so we can bid higher. This is amazing!” “Let me see, let me see! Wow, he actually looks pretty good! I just wonder if we can outbid those big shots. The auction attendees are all major executives and wealthy older women.” “Whether we get him or not, at least we get an eyeful now, hahaha! We’re not losing anything!” … I stood rigidly, paralyzed. Those lecherous, predatory gazes felt like sharp thorns, piercing me with excruciating pain, leaving me nowhere to hide. Amidst the muffled, vulgar whispers that reached my ears, I hugged myself tightly, trembling in the corner. Downstairs, Cassandra was hardly idle. I could tell from the sounds that she was intimate with Noah Reed. “Ethan Hale actually thinks I want to touch him. You should have seen his eyes; he looked like he wanted to devour me right away. Absolutely disgusting.” Her words were punctuated by the sound of disinfectant being sprayed. “Don’t worry, Noah, only you can touch me. I would never let myself get dirty.” Following that, the sounds from downstairs grew increasingly sordid. I wrapped my arms around myself, my heart turned to ash. Even if a hundred more pairs of eyes fell upon me, I would meet them with numb indifference… It wasn’t until past midnight that Cassandra unlocked the door. As if nothing had happened, she said with an air of casual indifference, “I got so engrossed in my work, I forgot about you. Hurry, put this on, don’t catch a cold.” The woman impatiently tossed a bathrobe at me, as if looking at me for another second would defile her eyes. I haphazardly wrapped the bathrobe around myself, but the chill in my flesh lingered. Cassandra glanced at her phone and mumbled to herself, “Strange. Grandmother’s illness isn’t better, so why did she decide to check out of the hospital?” I offered a perfunctory lie. “Maybe she felt a bit stifled. Some fresh air would do her good.” Then, her phone chimed again. For a split second, I saw a glaring message: “Cassandra, Cassandra, the indecent photos and video worked! A wealthy older woman has already placed a pre-bid of three million. She’s nearly seventy, so Ethan’s first night will be… blessed, hahaha!” It was then I realized there was a small, real-time surveillance camera in the bedroom. Which meant my naked body had not only been seen by the perverse women in the mansion across the street, but also by the wealthy older patrons who had access to the online auction… Cassandra quickly put her phone away, guilty, and changed the subject. “It was just a small delay, no need to look so gloomy. In the future, once I overcome more of my issues, there will be opportunities.” Seeing her perfunctory and disgusted expression, my heart twisted into a knot. For Noah Reed, she could revel in intimacy, utterly free of any germophobia. For me, she would probably never “overcome” her physical aversion. I clenched my fists tightly, no longer feeling any physical pain in my skin. Cassandra rummaged through her evening gowns, then casually said, “Go take a proper shower first. I’m taking you to an auction. I heard there’s a highly anticipated item up for bid tonight. Everyone’s going for that, so let’s join the fun.” Hearing her words, I felt an electric shock and rejected her in horror. “I’m not going. I don’t want to bid on any items.” Hearing my refusal, the woman’s face immediately fell. “Don’t be so temperamental. Noah even said he’d bid on some jewelry for you. You’re so old now, and all you do is throw childish tantrums… You’re going whether you like it or not. Ever since we got married, all you’ve done is stay home, washing clothes and cooking. The housekeeper has no work left! Anyone would think you’re trying to steal her job! Come out with me and see the world!” I looked at my ravaged hands and suddenly found it all rather ridiculous. All these years, to accommodate her germophobia, I washed the bedsheets morning, noon, and night, and hand-washed her clothes every day. In her eyes, it was merely the work of a housekeeper. Even worse, it was something so undignified… Seeing me just looking at my hands, Cassandra’s patience completely ran out. She directly shoved me into my designated “disinfectant” bathtub. After I finished, the woman, as if steeling herself, dried me off, her disgust palpable on her face. Once I was dry, she meticulously sanitized her hands, then dragged me into the car. Upon arriving at the auction venue, guests mingled, clinking glasses and discussing the upcoming auction. The moment he saw me, Noah Reed rushed over with a smile, carefully examining my hands. 3 My hands were already so raw from disinfectant that they were white with red patches, the skin as thin as parchment, already covered in a painful rash. “Heh, Ethan’s got such delicate skin, hasn’t he? I heard Cassandra can’t bear to touch you; she’s probably afraid of hurting you.” The next moment, someone sharply interjected. “Hahaha, afraid of hurting him? She just doesn’t want to touch him! Why else would he still be a virgin after five years of marriage?!” Another wave of mocking laughter, layered one upon another, brutally drowned me. Five years. She truly hadn’t allowed me to touch a single hair on her body. I frowned, my face burning, and spoke coldly. “Have you said enough?” Cassandra scoffed, her dark eyes clearly filled with displeasure. “I compliment you for being youthful, and you’re not happy? Can’t you tell good words from bad? It means you’re pure. Anyone else would be secretly delighted. Don’t be ungrateful.” Seeing my expression didn’t improve, one of the women present raised a glass and offered it to me. “That’s right, that’s right, handsome. Don’t be so sensitive. She was complimenting you. Come on, try a sip, this wine is very expensive.” I looked around. Everyone’s gaze was fixed on me. Realizing they intended to auction off my first night, I instantly understood. I coldly pushed away the glass. “Didn’t you say this was just for collectibles? I don’t have a habit of drinking.” Hearing my refusal, Cassandra’s knuckles around her wine glass whitened slightly, suppressing her rising anger. “You refuse a friendly offer and invite trouble instead. I told you, you’ve become a simpleton staying home. You can’t even take a joke, and you won’t drink. What exactly do you want?” I took a step back, looking at her with deadly seriousness. “I should be asking you that. What exactly do you want? Cassandra…” Before I could finish my sentence, I felt a sharp needle pierce my lower back. Hiss— The drug seemed to take effect. My head gradually grew heavy, and my hearing became muffled. “Why waste words on him? One shot and it’s done. He’s the main event, the star item. If we delay any longer, those big shots will get impatient!” “Good thing you’re so prepared. Ethan Hale is quite cautious. If this doesn’t work out, most of the auction attendees will be disappointed!” Noah Reed leaned limply against Cassandra’s shoulder, his triumphant gaze fixed on me, challenging me. “Ethan is truly lucky. So many people are fighting for his first night. Tonight will certainly be very meaningful for him.” I staggered, trying to keep myself upright, and cast a pleading look at Cassandra. “Please, don’t do this to me. I don’t want to be with other women…” Why wouldn’t she let me touch her, yet she would allow other women to? Hearing my broken pleas, Cassandra only clutched Noah tighter, scoffing. “Don’t you just love women touching you? Since I can’t overcome my aversion, I can only let other women exercise my rights as a wife. Isn’t that a win-win?” The woman deliberately exaggerated her caresses of Noah, every touch to his body a mockery of me. I closed my eyes in despair. The terror had begun to fade, replaced by a chilling numbness. The next moment, I was completely stripped naked and confined inside a transparent crystal box, then taken backstage. “Let me out…” But outside, it was only Cassandra’s people. No one paid attention to my pleas. “Several wealthy older women are demanding to see Ethan Hale in advance! Who knew he’d be so popular for his age? We won’t know who gets him until the last minute, hahaha!” Perhaps Cassandra’s expression was displeased, for someone patted her shoulder. “Don’t worry. After a night of ecstasy, Ethan won’t remember any of this. Then you can just split the auction proceeds among us, girls.” The laughter from outside the box grew more distant, and I pinched my thigh hard, trying to stay conscious. It wasn’t until Grandmother Vance appeared, ordering her personal bodyguard to release me from the box and wrap me in clothes. “I never imagined that girl Cassandra would go this far!” She made me sign the annulment papers and then instructed the bodyguard to take me to the airport. The moment I got into the car, I couldn’t hold on any longer and fell unconscious. At the same time, the auction house buzzed with excitement. “The final, most anticipated item, ‘Youthful Dream,’ has already reached a pre-bid of six million, and now… someone has placed a ‘Moonbeam’ bid!” Following a burst of enthusiastic cheers, everyone present, including Cassandra, turned to look at the auctioneer’s gesture. The moment she saw Grandmother Vance, the woman’s brow immediately furrowed. Grandmother Vance held up the marriage contract and slapped it onto Cassandra’s face with a sharp thwack. “Since you don’t want Ethan Hale as your husband, from this day forward, he is no longer your husband!”

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My best friend, Briar, and I passed on the same day, spending five long centuries in the Underworld. Then, one day, Briar had a vivid dream. She told me: A century in the Underworld is merely a year in the living world. We hadn’t truly died in our car accident; we’d simply fallen into comas. If we sacrificed ourselves here, we could awaken back on the mortal coil. With those words, she leapt into the Cauldron of Transmutation, dissolving into a wisp of emerald smoke. The Chief Judge, who moments ago had been sneering at Briar for being theatrical, now let out a gut-wrenching wail that tore through the very fabric of the Nether Realm. I turned to look at Lord Valerius, Sovereign of the Dead. He held his beloved, Elysia, close, conjuring a shimmering barrier to shield her from the splashing ethereal oil. “My love, I’m leaving too.” I followed Briar, diving headfirst into the searing Cauldron. Behind me, a tormented roar echoed, as if someone desperately tried to snatch me back. But no one mattered. Briar and I had promised each other we would go home, together. 1 “Elysia, the Celestine Spirit, is preparing for Rebirth! Lord Valerius and Chief Judge Caspian are both clamoring to protect her, even proposing to make her their primary consort!” “Really? But don’t they already have consorts?” “Hmph. Those two can’t compare to their true soulmates, can they?” At Briar’s quincentennial celebration in the Underworld, spirits whispered amongst themselves. The guest of honor, however, was neither of the two men who claimed they were “too busy” to attend. It was Lyra, the ethereal beauty, and the subjects of the whispers were Lord Valerius and Chief Judge Caspian. Briar, disbelieving, stumbled towards the Acheron Crossing. There, she saw the Chief Judge, who had whispered sweet nothings to her just last night, now gazing devotedly at Elysia, the Celestine Spirit, poised for Rebirth. “Elysia, at last we meet again. These five centuries, I haven’t forgotten you for a single moment.” The Arbiter’s Quill, an artifact no one dared touch, was now reverently placed in Elysia’s delicate hands, a token of his devotion. And my own consort, Lord Valerius, gently took Elysia’s hand, guiding her to sit upon his Obsidian Throne. He offered her his Soul-Bound Artifact, a Primal Conduit, to shield her essence. His voice was laced with profound tenderness: “The Underworld is cold, my dear. Do not let your essence be harmed. It would worry me so.” With a sweep of his hand, countless tormented spirits were released from their bonds, their accumulated merits all attributed to Elysia. The spectral multitude hailed her as their Sovereign Lady. Witnessing this scene, my heart ached with a bitter understanding. Five hundred years ago, Briar and I perished on the same day. As our souls drifted into the Underworld, we found ourselves amidst a raging chaos of lost spirits. To protect Lord Valerius, who had lost his Primal Conduit, I disregarded my own safety and plunged into the Infernal Pits, battling my way through the infernal hordes to retrieve his artifact. Briar, meanwhile, aided the Chief Judge, who had lost his Arbiter’s Quill, in quelling the restless specters. When the Divine Courts later issued a decree of censure, we took the blame, shielding them from official repercussions. I endured unspeakable torment within the Spectral Gaol. The Chief Judge had suggested Lord Valerius use his Soul-Bound Artifact to protect my soul. He refused, stating that his Primal Conduit was sacred and could not be lent. Yet, he promised to love and protect me forever. I had believed him implicitly, thinking it was his unyielding principle. But now, seeing him tenderly bestow that very artifact upon Elysia, it felt like a cruel, absurd mockery. Clearly, his ‘principles’ were merely convenient lies, bending to suit his desires. Briar’s gaze remained fixed on the Chief Judge, who hovered solicitously around Elysia. She let out a pained, bitter laugh. “Anya,” she said, her voice thin with despair, “I’m tired of revolving around him.” She was truly heartbroken. When we first arrived in the Underworld, Briar had fallen instantly in love with the Chief Judge. To help him recover his lost Arbiter’s Quill, she had sacrificed four of her own Essence Threads. Later, though the Chief Judge managed to restore her Essence Threads, she endured a century of torment in the Cauldron of Transmutation for taking the blame for his negligence. Her soul, like mine, had become almost translucent. Now, the Chief Judge, who had sworn to protect her forever, saw only his beloved Elysia. How could a woman so consumed by love not be in agony? Briar sent a telepathic query to the Steward of Souls, inquiring about rebirth. The Steward warned us that our souls were unstable, making us vulnerable to memory erasure or even transmigration into the animal realm, condemning us to never meet again. He urged us to reconsider. My gaze settled on the figure beside Elysia, perched on Lord Valerius’s Obsidian Throne. I remained silent. I had once gone to great lengths to sit beside him on that throne. But he had always gravely reprimanded me, saying it was “improper.” He had claimed the throne was for the Sovereign alone; even his consort could not transgress that rule. Now, it was clear. The true mistress of that throne was never meant to be me. A sharp pang shot through my heart. I looked at my increasingly translucent soul-form and whispered, “I just want to leave this place. To leave him.” 2 Briar and I had suffered enough. We found the Steward of Souls and demanded reincarnation, a new beginning. But the Steward looked troubled. “You are the consorts of Lord Valerius and Chief Judge Caspian. How could I make such a decision without their consent?” “Your souls are fragile, constantly nourished by their Soul-Bound Artifacts. If anything goes wrong during reincarnation, I cannot bear the responsibility.” We, too, couldn’t bear to sever our deep bond of sisterhood. So we decided to wait until our souls naturally dissipated, hoping that would allow us to be reborn together. Lord Valerius and Chief Judge Caspian had once promised that if our souls scattered naturally, we would be granted rebirth, a ploy to keep us in the Underworld. At the time, Briar and I had staunchly believed we would never leave them. Little did we know, they would be the first to betray us. In the days that followed, Lord Valerius and Chief Judge Caspian continued to dote on Elysia, utterly absorbed in their devotion. Briar and I, meanwhile, spent our time with our pet dog, Whisper, exploring the Underworld, trying to reclaim the wasted years. We never intended to cross paths with Elysia, but she seemed intent on stirring trouble. One day, in the Phantom Bazaar, Elysia falsely accused Whisper of running into her, threatening to banish the little spirit. We intervened, and she seemed rather annoyed. “Let’s see how long you can protect this little beast!” she taunted. Briar and I didn’t pay much mind to Elysia’s words, dismissing them as idle threats. But ten days later, she delivered a truly ‘grand surprise.’ 3 That day, Briar and I, unwilling to witness our respective partners doting on Elysia, had quietly slipped out of Necropolis Prime for a meal and some recreation. We only separated to return to our chambers when the evening feast was due to begin. I was delayed slightly, retrieving something from my dwelling. As I reached the entrance of the Sovereign’s Citadel, I heard Briar’s heartbreaking cries. Panic seizing me, I burst inside, catching Briar as her body plummeted. She was covered in injuries, her soul-form rendered almost transparent. “What happened?” I cried, my voice laced with urgency. Briar struggled to stand, channeling her essence into a spectral blade, furiously lunging at Elysia: “Elysia, I’ll have your life!” In five centuries, I had never seen Briar so enraged. She was willing to risk total dissipation just to strike Elysia down. But the Chief Judge merely flicked his Arbiter’s Quill, sending Briar crashing to the ground. Elysia, nestled against his chest, looked on like a victor, a mocking smile playing on her lips. “Briar, don’t test my patience,” the Chief Judge warned, his voice cold. Briar gazed at him, her face contorted in pain. She hadn’t even had a chance to voice her anguish before Elysia preempted her. Elysia stood there, fragile and delicate, clutching her chest, her face pale. “It’s not Briar’s fault,” she murmured, “She didn’t know I’m afraid of spirits in animal form, so she didn’t control that little beast, causing me to be startled.” “A few days ago, that creature made me stumble, and I let it go. But today, I was truly terrified, so I dispelled its three souls and seven ethereal facets.” “Briar claims she treats that dog as family, which is why she attacked me. I don’t understand, how can you treat a beast as family?” My eyes widened in shock at the sight of a shimmering orb of light hovering in the air. It was Whisper’s soul essence! The orb circled me a few times, then dissolved completely. I gasped, a mouthful of fresh blood spraying forth, staining the opulent hall. The metallic scent ignited my rage. Whisper was our cherished companion, Briar’s and mine. Even in the living world, he had been the sweetest dog. When he passed and came to the Underworld, fearing our loneliness, he voluntarily gave up his chance at rebirth to stay with us. For five centuries, his presence had been a profound comfort in this alien realm. Briar and I had even planned to send Whisper to be reborn into a happy life before our own souls dissipated. But now, Elysia had severed his path to rebirth with a single strike. We had lost our only family member here. How could we not be in agony? Elysia, meanwhile, was playing the aggrieved victim, causing the Chief Judge to dote on her even more. Briar watched it all, her torment erupting in a raw scream: “That’s a lie! Whisper never charged you! You deliberately cast a spell on him, which is why he panicked and ran wild!” Elysia, feigning shock, hid behind the Chief Judge, murmuring, “I lost my abilities ages ago. Don’t fabricate lies to deceive everyone.” “If you’re jealous of my bond with Chief Judge Caspian, just say so. Why stoop to using a mere animal to frame me?” “This time, I’ll be magnanimous and forgive you. But don’t let there be a next time.” “You lying cheat! Today, I’ll make you pay in blood!” Briar, driven to a furious frenzy, exerted all her strength to break free from the Arbiter’s Quill’s restraint, lunging at Elysia. But before she could get close, the Chief Judge unleashed a spell that sent her tumbling. He then cruelly stomped on Briar’s hand, humiliating her before all the specters. Briar’s face was etched with pain as she stared at the man she loved, tears streaming down her face. “Caspian, Whisper was my family! You promised to protect us both forever. Why are you shielding her now?” The Chief Judge pressed down harder with his foot, his voice cold. “Beasts are not fit to be my family. As my consort, you should be obedient and proper, not arrogant and insolent.” “I told you, no one can harm Elysia. Not even you.” Briar looked at him, a bitter, twisted smile on her lips. “Whisper once saved your life! You personally imbued him with divine light, saying he was our most important family member.” “Now, to please Elysia, you let her kill our family! Caspian, you’re worse than a beast!” The Chief Judge’s face darkened. He plunged the Arbiter’s Quill directly into Briar’s hand. Briar let out a cry of pain, head thrown back, while Elysia smirked triumphantly. “Do you admit your fault? If you do, apologize to Elysia at once. Otherwise, I’ll throw you into the Infernal Pits,” the Chief Judge threatened. Briar’s face was pale. She smiled tragically. “Five centuries ago, I rescued you from the Infernal Pits. Now you want to send me back. A full circle, indeed.” “If I could, I wish I had never saved you, never believed your sweet words and stayed in this wretched Underworld.” The Chief Judge, enraged, summoned his spectral wardens to seize Briar. I lashed out with my Aether Lash, knocking his hand away and shielding Briar behind me. Two more lashes sent the Chief Judge scrambling for cover, looking utterly disheveled. “For the wounds on Briar’s soul, you will repay a thousandfold.” The Chief Judge’s face was grim as he stared at me, daring not to speak. After all, I was Lord Valerius’s consort. Even if Lord Valerius didn’t favor me as much, I was still his superior in the Underworld hierarchy. Briar clutched my hand tightly, her voice trembling with sobs. “Elysia not only dissipated Whisper’s soul, she threw Whisper’s remains into the Cauldron of Transmutation and fed them to the spectral wardens.” “Anya, I want her to suffer the same fate!” I secured Briar within the Soul-Sanctum Tower to help her soul recover, comforting her. “Don’t worry. I will make her fate far worse than Whisper’s. Rest your soul now, don’t speak.” My words carried a strong murderous intent. All the spirits knew: Whisper was my family too. The moment I raised my Aether Lash, the Chief Judge immediately activated a defensive ward, nervously shielding Elysia behind him. He knew the true power of the Soul-Binder Whip, a wedding gift from the Divine Courts upon my union with Lord Valerius. Even celestial beings struggled to evade its might. Earlier, when I struck him, I hadn’t used my full power. Now, my lash crackled with divine energy. A single flick could dissipate Elysia’s soul. But my target was not just Elysia… 4 It was Caspian too. He had personally harmed Briar for Elysia’s sake. This debt, I would collect. If not for his and Lord Valerius’s sweet words and passionate pleas, Briar and I would never have forsaken the path to reincarnation to become their consorts in the Underworld. Five hundred years, for them, was but a blink of an eye. But for Briar and me, it had been a long and arduous journey. They had betrayed their vows for Elysia. Should such despicable men be allowed to live? I was a mortal soul-form. Even married to Lord Valerius and imbued with some divine light, my raw power couldn’t match the Chief Judge’s. But my resolve to kill them was absolute, so I sacrificed a portion of my soul, pushing the Soul-Binder Whip’s power to its absolute zenith. With a single lash, the Chief Judge was sent flying like a broken kite, his robes tattered, blood gushing from his mouth. His disheveled state pleased me. But I was still not satisfied. Compared to the suffering Whisper and Briar had endured, his injuries were nothing. “Now it’s your turn.” I pointed the whip at the pale-faced Elysia, ready to end it all. I intensified the burning of my soul essence, using my blood as a conduit, and the whip flew like a sharpened blade towards Elysia, who stood beside the Chief Judge. But just then, a powerful force deflected my whip. The lash snapped back, striking me. I was thrown violently to the ground, blood oozing from my eyes, nose, mouth, and ears. I struggled to rise, desperate to strike Elysia one last time. But my Soul-Binder Whip slipped from my grasp. A surge of arcane energy struck my limbs, binding me, leaving me sprawled on the ground. I lifted my head, battered and disoriented, to see my Soul-Binder Whip held by my seemingly gentle consort, Lord Valerius. His gaze was cold and unforgiving. “Is this how you conduct yourself as my consort? Bullying the weak, arrogant and insolent. You deserve punishment.” His fingers moved subtly, and I felt my soul-form being torn apart by a thousand invisible spirits, the agony so intense I nearly blacked out. He knew the Soul-Binder Whip was bound to my soul-form; if it were destroyed, I would dissipate. But he didn’t intend for me to vanish so easily. He meant to torture me slowly, to appease the visibly shaken Elysia. Watching him tend to Elysia with such care, I couldn’t help but laugh through my tears. A century ago, I had endured a hundred years of bone-gouging pain in the Spectral Gaol for taking the blame for him. He had refused to use his Primal Conduit to protect me, instead traveling to the Divine Courts to request the Soul-Binder Whip for me. He then used his own heart’s blood as a conduit, binding the whip tightly to my soul. He had held me then, promising, “Anya, become my consort. I will always protect you, love you. No one can harm you, not even I.” But now, those vows had become razor-sharp blades, twisting within my heart, making the pain a dull, unbearable throb. Lord Valerius held the weeping Elysia, comforting her tenderly, yet his eyes held utter revulsion as he looked at me. “Anya, who gave you the audacity to harm my esteemed guest?” “That little beast startled Elysia; its death was well-deserved. Instead of apologizing to Elysia, you sought to harm her.” “From this day forth, you are no longer my consort. Confine this criminal to the Eighteenth Infernal Pit, let her reflect on her transgressions!” Briar and I were cast aside, dismissed by our consorts. One imprisoned in the Shadowlands, the other trapped in the deepest reaches of the Infernal Pits. Centuries of devotion and sacrifice, instantly reduced to dust. I had thought this was the wretched end of our tragic fate. But I never imagined they wanted more than just our subjugation…

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After five years of marriage to Julian Vance, his long-dead childhood sweetheart miraculously came back to life. She moved into my home, kissed my husband, and even my child started calling her ‘Mom.’ Julian said she had cancer, that he needed to make amends. He told me to be generous and kind. My son, Liam Vance, said, “You’re just not as gentle or pretty as she is. She doesn’t have any scars.” I chose to grant their wish and faked my own death to escape. Finally, I found the peaceful life I yearned for. A decade and more passed in a blink. Then, Liam Vance enrolled at the very university where I taught. He found me, his eyes red-rimmed, demanding, “If you didn’t want me, why did you give birth to me?” 1 It was during a class break, the ground floor of the academic building bustling with students. Liam Vance ignored the curious glances around us, gripping my sleeve tightly. His burning gaze made me feel as if I were being roasted over an open fire. I lowered my eyelids, forcing myself to appear calm. “Student, you’ve mistaken me for someone else. I’m unmarried and have no children.” The young man’s voice remained level as he countered, “Are you? The exact same face, the same build, even the same name.” He paused, his grip tightening. “Did I make a mistake, or are you just afraid to admit the truth?” It was truly a twist of fate. After faking my death and fleeing overseas, I encountered the Martin family, a couple who had recently lost their daughter. Seeing a resemblance between me and their deceased child, they asked me to assume her identity. Coincidentally, her name was also Cassidy. Sometimes, you just have to admit that there’s another ‘you’ out there in the world. I took Cassidy Martin’s place, completed my doctorate abroad, and became a university professor. Later, Mr. Martin passed away, and his dying wish was to return to his homeland. So, I brought Mrs. Martin back to the States. Not long ago, Mrs. Martin also passed. In this vast, indifferent world, I was once again alone. As for Liam Vance, the child I had long left behind, I never imagined I would see him again. His sudden appearance caught me completely off guard. I had once imagined what he would look like grown up. But he seemed to resemble neither me nor Julian. I searched my mind, but his childhood appearance was already a blur. When I left the Vance family, I was utterly alone, walking away with resolute finality. All the cherished photographs I possessed had been consumed by fire. My thoughts raced, chaotic. Liam’s grip tightened, as if he feared I would vanish if he loosened his hold even slightly. A familiar colleague passed by on their way to class, pausing to ask about the situation. They stepped in to help. “Young Mr. Vance, you’ve truly made a mistake. People simply resemble each other sometimes. Don’t delay Professor Martin’s class.” Liam’s expression wavered, and his grip slackened. Seizing the chance, I quickly pulled my hand free and ascended the stairs. At the landing, I glanced back at Liam, who looked lost and forlorn. He was as striking as Julian, always effortlessly noticeable in a crowd. He seemed heartbroken. But I felt no pang of sympathy. I merely told myself, Cassidy, you can look back, but never walk back. 2 Teaching always engrossed me, and I quickly pushed the unexpected encounter from my mind. Back in my office, the heating was stifling. I removed my coat but left my scarf on. A new faculty member opposite me kindly pointed it out. “Professor Martin, you forgot to take off your scarf.” I smiled, offering no explanation. Lesson planning, grading papers, lunch, a short nap. Liam’s appearance didn’t seem to affect me. My life continued as it always had. At least, on the surface. I reclined my chair, pulled a thin blanket over me, confirmed my alarm for my nap was set, and closed my eyes. Soon, I was drifting off. But I had clearly underestimated the psychological impact of Liam’s sudden presence. For the first time in years, I dreamt of Julian Vance and Liam. Julian and I had an arranged marriage, a business alliance. My father, in his youth, had been kind to Julian’s father. He hadn’t asked for anything in return. But then, my father’s business ran into trouble, forcing him to seek help from the Vance family. Julian’s father agreed to help but proposed a union through marriage. At the time, I had a secret crush on Julian. But I also knew he had a girl he loved, Ashley Hayes. So, I never dared to express my feelings. Yet, in the gilded cage of aristocratic marriage, one’s own desires were often irrelevant. When I learned I was to marry him, I was so overjoyed I couldn’t sleep all night. I believed I could, with time and effort, slowly win his heart. But halfway through the wedding, news broke that the plane Ashley was on had crashed. She had left heartbroken, and that flight had plunged into the deep sea, leaving no trace. Julian calmly let the wedding proceed. But I knew his heart was now fortified by high walls. The eternally youthful Ashley Hayes had truly taken up residence there. So, I suggested Julian and I remain married in name only. But he descended upon me, his eyes dark with fury, devoid of any tenderness. He whispered savagely in my ear, “Does it hurt? Endure it. Ashley died because of the Martin family. This is all your family’s fault.” After that night, the Martin family went bankrupt, completely vanishing from Capital City’s elite circles. My father, in despair, jumped from a building. My mother suffered a mental breakdown and was confined to a sanatorium. I still remember the night my father died. Julian was dead drunk. He stumbled into my bedroom, raging, a wild beast unleashed. “Cassidy Martin, I want you to feel a hundred, a thousand times more pain than I do.” I wanted to die. But Julian saw through me. “If you don’t want your mother to suffer, then you will live. You know I have my ways.” I couldn’t die even if I wanted to, and living brought only torment. 3 My marriage to Julian was suffocating, oppressive. In public, we were the golden couple, the picture of adoration. At banquets, entertaining guests, we were always inseparable. The media frequently captured photos of him buying luxury brands or expensive jewelry for me, calling him a doting husband. But in private, he would unleash his fury on me, cursing me, telling me I was no different from a prostitute. Each time our intimacy ended, he would throw expensive jewelry at my face. “That’s your service fee. Consider it gilded.” I didn’t know when this life would end. I didn’t know how much longer I could endure. Thankfully, my mother’s condition improved, and she was discharged. I didn’t want her to worry, so I would praise Julian in front of her, calling him thoughtful and kind, a wonderful man. But no matter how well I pretended, how could a mother not see through it? Leaving a letter expressing her wish for me to find freedom, she followed my father. My spirit completely crumbled. I stopped eating, drinking, crying, or reacting. Before long, I fell into a coma, my vital signs gradually fading. My consciousness was clear. I, like a warped being, yearned for death, for complete liberation. But Julian wouldn’t allow it. Each time I neared death, a pair of hands pulled me back. Julian sobbed, speaking in my ear. His tone was filled with a pleading tenderness I had never heard from him. He said he had lost to me. He had, in fact, fallen in love with me through our daily interactions. How laughable. After being revived and regaining consciousness, the doctor informed me I was pregnant. The flower of pain had borne fruit, and I felt my entire life had been completely bound. I didn’t anticipate this child’s birth. I secretly scheduled an abortion at another hospital. But Julian found me anyway. He held me captive, assigning round-the-clock guards. Until I gave birth to Liam. 4 The dream was long, and I fell back into anguish. Thankfully, my alarm clock dragged me out. After my afternoon classes, I headed to the parking lot to retrieve my car. As I passed the sports field, a basketball flew directly towards me. My mind went blank instantly. I instinctively raised my hand to block it. The anticipated pain never came. I opened my eyes and saw Liam, struck and injured, before me. A mix of emotions churned within me. Despite my desire to avoid any further entanglement with him, I couldn’t bring myself to abandon a student who had just shielded me, especially under the watchful eyes of so many. After taking him to the campus infirmary for bandages, I prepared to leave. Liam called out to me, “Professor Martin, I helped you. Shouldn’t you thank me?” I stopped, turning back. “Didn’t I already say thank you?” “Verbal thanks are so boring. How about something more practical?” He slowly strolled over to me. “Today’s my birthday. Could you… have dinner with me?” Those sealed memories, with the trailing end of that sentence, flooded back. Though I hadn’t anticipated Liam’s birth, perhaps it was the immense suffering of his difficult, prolonged delivery, or perhaps it was simply maternal instinct, but I cherished him deeply. Once, he was nearly scalded by boiling water. I, without a second thought, instinctively lunged and hugged him, shielding him. The entire pot of scalding water poured over my neck. Afterward, to soothe a terrified Liam, I comforted him for four hours straight. Consequently, I missed the optimal time for treatment, leaving a permanent scar. I didn’t mind the scar, as long as my child was safe and healthy. To give him a joyful and happy family environment, I cooperated with Julian, playing the part of a loving couple. Until he turned four. That façade of happiness was ripped away. After Liam was born, Julian grew very fond of family life. He repeatedly expressed a desire for another child, but I always refused. As a result, he doted intensely on his only son. Liam’s birthday parties grew grander each year. For his fourth birthday, Liam, now in preschool, Julian invited all his classmates to play at the amusement park and ski resort he had built specially for the occasion. Halfway through the party, an unexpected guest arrived. It was Ashley Hayes. I had seen her photos on Julian’s phone. Beautiful, elegant, and now with an added touch of mature charm. Perhaps the shock of her return from the dead was too overwhelming, for Julian looked bewildered, unable to believe his eyes. But when Ashley spoke his name, he instinctively let go of my hand. It turned out Ashley had missed her original flight and rebooked for the next one, narrowly escaping the crash. She hadn’t wanted to disturb Julian’s life, so she had never reappeared. It was only when her job recently transferred her back to the country that she thought to come and visit. Old friends reunited, small talk was inevitable. Julian arranged for Ashley to stay at an apartment he owned and didn’t return home that night. I knew very well that my life was about to be turned upside down again. But I never expected even my sole solace to be snatched away. 5 A bewildered Liam had once asked me who Ashley Hayes was. I didn’t know how to answer. So I said, “Let Daddy tell you, okay?” The next morning, Julian returned home, his steps weary and unsteady. Liam, licking milk from the corner of his mouth, repeated the question. Julian suddenly lost his temper. “Cassidy Martin, you’re disgusting! You’re using the child!” He gestured towards Ashley. “She has cancer. What’s wrong with me taking care of her a little more?” He fixed his gaze on me. “You’ve already gotten so much. Why can’t you be generous and kind?!” I glanced at the faint, tell-tale red marks on his collar, understanding silently. Liam, startled by his father’s outburst, burst into tears. Julian, his reason returning, apologized to me, but I said nothing. Ashley’s company had business dealings with Julian’s, leading to increased interactions between them. Unbeknownst to me, Liam also grew increasingly dependent on her. I noticed the change one evening. I was, as usual, telling him a bedtime story. After only two sentences, Liam started to fuss, demanding Ashley tell him a story instead. I had no choice but to let him. It was only afterward that I realized the three of them had been doing many things behind my back. Later, Ashley invited us to dinner for her birthday. Perhaps fueled by alcohol, she tearfully recounted her experiences over the past few years. Liam’s face was filled with sympathy. He walked over, grasped her little finger, and kissed her cheek. “Pretty Auntie, don’t cry. Mom stole Daddy, so Liam will make it up to you.” A vague premonition settled in my heart that Liam and I might grow distant. Yet, a sliver of hope lingered. He was my child, after all; this blood connection couldn’t be severed. But that sliver of hope shattered the moment I heard Liam call her ‘Mom.’

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Tim Winslow, the notorious scion of Veridia City, found amusement in live-streaming his conquests. After publicly marking our intimacy on a live stream, his affections veered. He brazenly cast his new girl as the lead in my movie, demoting me, an award-winning actress, to a mere prop. To add insult to injury, he even wrote in a scene where I was to be physically assaulted. “You’re a veteran, Miya. It’s only right you guide the young lady, isn’t it?” And so, under the scrutiny of countless eyes, I endured over twenty open-handed slaps. When the young woman feigned illness, claiming my aura was too dark, Tim called in a mystic who pierced me with 999 silver needles to “cleanse” my spirit. Tim’s friends tried to warn him against taking things too far. The man merely chuckled. “So what? She begged me on her knees to be with me.” “Without me, her brother would have been dead long ago!” But what he didn’t know was that I had already packed my brother Caleb’s urn, along with my plane ticket to France, into my suitcase. 1. Before leaving for France, I had one last scene to film. Because of that scene, Tim’s new darling, Seraphina Blackwood, slapped me over twenty times. I faced the dressing room mirror, dabbing my raw, stinging cheek with a cotton swab soaked in saline solution. A fiery pain spread across my skin. I couldn’t use antiseptic; I still had another scene. The marks of over twenty slaps blossomed on my face. Gritting my teeth, I applied another layer of foundation. “Ms. Thorne… are you alright?” The makeup artist asked cautiously, her voice laced with confusion. How could Miya Thorne, an Oscar-winning actress, be so consumed by love that she allowed her boyfriend’s kept mistress to walk all over her? I shook my head, reassuring her. But how could I have ever imagined that one day I’d be repeatedly slapped by a newcomer, barely out of acting school? And my boyfriend sat behind the monitor, watching it all unfold, without even a flicker of concern. Back on set, Seraphina Blackwood was perched on Tim’s lap, giggling coyly, a grape dangling from her lips, poised to feed him. Tim caught my eye, a provocative smirk playing on his lips, then leaned down and captured Seraphina’s red lips in a kiss. The crew immediately averted their gazes, knowing better than to challenge the scion of the powerful Winslow family, who held sway over half the entertainment industry. “Miss Blackwood says real slaps make it feel more authentic…” The assistant director offered a simpering smile. “Ms. Thorne, your acting is superb, you’ll surely handle it. Miss Blackwood says she’s found her rhythm now, this scene will be over quickly, no retakes!” “Why would Ms. Thorne mind?” Seraphina batted her innocent eyes, stepping in front of me. Tim remained seated, a faint, unreadable smile on his face. He said nothing, which meant he approved. “Action!” The first slap landed with full force, my head snapped to the side, my eardrums rang, and the metallic taste of blood flooded my mouth. “Oh, I’m so sorry, Ms. Thorne! I got too into character! Please, just one more chance! I learn so quickly!” she cooed, her apology sickeningly sweet. The second slap followed, then the third… Seraphina’s strikes grew more fluid, more confident with each blow. Sometimes her nails grazed my eyelids, stinging so badly I couldn’t open my eyes. The set was silent, everyone holding their breath, their gazes darting between us and Tim. His eyes were as cold and distant as if he were watching a performance that had nothing to do with him. I don’t know how many more slaps I endured, but soon I could barely stand. The pain was excruciating, and I instinctively flinched away. “Ah!” Seraphina suddenly shrieked dramatically, throwing herself to my side. Her elbow hit the ground, immediately blooming with a faint red mark. The set erupted into a commotion. “Miya!” Tim shot to his feet, his chair scraping against the floor with a deafening screech. He roughly shoved me aside, kneeling to tend to Seraphina. “Are you alright?” I stumbled back several steps, my back slamming into a camera tripod, making me gasp in pain. But no one noticed me. All eyes were on Seraphina. “Mr. Winslow, it hurts so much…” Seraphina’s eyes instantly welled up with tears. She held up her elbow, displaying the almost invisible “injury.” “Ms. Thorne suddenly moved, and I lost my balance…” Tim turned his head, glaring at me, his eyes sharp as daggers. “Miya, did you do that on purpose?” I opened my mouth, but my throat was so dry no sound emerged. My cheek was swollen, blood trickling from the corner of my lips, while the faint red mark on Seraphina’s elbow would likely vanish within five minutes. “I…” I began to explain, but Tim impatiently waved his hand, cutting me off. “Enough!” He swept Seraphina into his arms, his movements as gentle as if she were made of glass. “That’s enough for today. Director Davies, reschedule Miya’s scenes. Film the others first.” He strode out, and as he passed me, he delivered a chilling parting shot: “You’d better think carefully about how you’re going to apologize.” Everyone bowed their heads, avoiding eye contact with me. I stood there, feeling the stinging pain in my cheek and the metallic taste of blood in my mouth, suddenly finding it all ridiculously absurd. 2. Half an hour later, I sat alone in the dressing room, an ice pack pressed against my swollen, throbbing face. Footsteps and hushed voices drifted from outside the door. “Mr. Winslow specifically called his family doctor for Seraphina’s elbow. I heard he even personally fed her painkillers,” a woman gossiped. “Tsk, tsk, Ms. Thorne truly fell hard this time,” another voice chimed in, tinged with schadenfreude. “She’s an Oscar winner, a three-time Aurelian Award recipient, how did she end up like this?” “This entertainment world is just a playground for the rich,” someone sighed, lowering their voice. “What good is Miya Thorne’s talent? At the end of the day, she’s just an actress. Can all her effort compare to a single word from Mr. Winslow?” I took a deep breath, pulled my phone from my bag, and dialed an international number. After hanging up, confirming that he would pick me up tomorrow night, I finally felt a sense of peace. I then returned to the Winslow estate to pack my bags. My fingers still trembled slightly as I pushed open the villa’s front door. I would be leaving tomorrow night. This return was only to secretly retrieve Caleb’s photograph. In the entryway, Seraphina’s high heels lay haphazardly, as if the two of them had been too eager to waste a moment. I stepped over them, my face expressionless, and headed towards the study on the second floor. Every corner of this villa bore the mark of my own hands, my own careful touches. I had once truly considered this place my home. But ever since Seraphina entered our lives, Tim had transformed. Three months ago, I was rushed to the hospital, hovering between life and death after an acute pancreatitis attack, triggered by drinking with investors on his behalf. And Tim? He was with Seraphina, setting off fireworks on the beach. When the nurse delivered this news, I lay curled on my hospital bed, a feeding tube in my stomach, writhing in pain. “Mr. Winslow said the fireworks were pre-ordered and non-refundable,” my assistant mumbled, barely daring to meet my eyes. Last month, on Caleb’s memorial day, I prepared to burn offerings in the yard as usual, but Tim ordered everyone to clear it out. “Seraphina is easily frightened; she can’t stand such things,” he frowned, snatching the bouquet from my hand and tossing it into the trash. “Mourning the dead inside the house? Aren’t you worried it will bring bad luck?” Pushing open the study door, my heart plummeted. The photograph on the bookshelf was gone. I frantically searched every drawer, then Tim’s light chuckle drifted to me. “Looking for this?” Tim leaned casually against the doorframe, holding a photograph torn in half – it was Caleb, taken at his college graduation, wearing his cap and gown, his smile as bright as sunshine. And now, that cherished photo was cruelly ripped, Caleb’s smiling face split in two. “Tim!” I lunged to snatch it back, but he easily evaded me. “I told you, no such things are allowed in this house,” he said coldly, scattering the remaining pieces onto the floor. “Seraphina started having nightmares the moment she came back. I knew you must be hiding something inauspicious like this.” I knelt on the floor, helplessly trying to piece the fragments together. Through all the humiliation, through Seraphina’s slaps, I hadn’t cried. I tried to hold it in, but tears spilled down my face, defiant and unstoppable. “Why… why would you do this…” All these years, to help Tim expand his network, I’d drunk myself into stomach bleeds more times than I could count on both hands. At Tim’s word, I allowed Seraphina to slap me senseless in public! Tim impatiently stood up. “Enough! You always get so dramatic when your brother is mentioned. Don’t put on a sob show here. Seraphina will wake up soon, you need to quickly get rid of these cursed things—” “Who the hell is Seraphina Blackwood?” I interrupted him, my voice suddenly rising. “A barely known celebrity who slept her way to the top. Does she really deserve to touch my brother’s photo?” 3. Tim’s pupils constricted, his face instantly darkening. He snatched the photo fragments I had just gathered from my hand, tearing them into even smaller pieces right in front of me. “Who the hell do you think you are, speaking about Seraphina like that?” I lunged to retrieve the pieces, but he violently pushed me away. He then pulled open my locked drawer. He had known where I hid the key all along. Tim pulled out every single photograph of Caleb I had painstakingly preserved. Caleb in his graduation cap and gown, Caleb sweating on the basketball court, Caleb’s profile as he made his last birthday wish over a cake… One by one, they disintegrated into fragments in his hands. “You’re insane! These are the originals!” I knelt on the floor, uselessly trying to piece them together, my vision blurred by tears. “Ill-omened,” he spat, two chilling words, scattering the last handful of fragments out the window. I trembled all over, then suddenly remembered something and lunged for the hidden compartment behind the bookcase. There, I kept the hard drive containing all of Caleb’s digital photos. But Tim was faster. He snatched the hard drive, gripping it tightly in his hand. “Give it back! That’s all that’s left…” My voice was hoarse with desperation. Tim stared at me, then a cruel smile spread across his face. Right in front of me, he bent the hard drive with both hands – it snapped with a sharp CRACK, its casing splitting open, the delicate disk exposed to the air. He walked to the balcony, held the damaged hard drive high, and then released it. I heard a soft “plop” as it hit the artificial lake below. “Clean now.” I collapsed to the floor, feeling as though all the blood in my body had turned to ice. It felt like that day all over again, the day I received the news of Caleb’s death. My vision blurred. The last thing I saw was Tim’s face, suddenly etched with panic. “Miya! Mi—” Darkness consumed me. … The pungent smell of disinfectant filled my nostrils as I slowly opened my eyes, gazing at the sterile white ceiling. An IV needle was embedded in the back of my hand, cold liquid steadily flowing into my veins, making me tremble uncontrollably. “Awake?” I turned my head. He sat beside the hospital bed, his tailored suit jacket draped over the chair, his tie loosened. Dark circles were pronounced beneath his eyes. He looked as if he had been keeping vigil all night. “The doctor said it was a temporary blackout caused by extreme emotional distress,” he said, pouring a glass of water and offering it to me. “All that for a few worthless photos? Is it really worth it?” I didn’t take the glass, only gazed at him silently. The glass hovered awkwardly in mid-air before he finally set it down heavily on the table. “What day is it?” I asked softly. Tim frowned. “Thursday. Why?” Thursday. Four more days until my flight to France. I silently calculated the time in my mind. “I asked you a question!” Tim suddenly raised his voice. “Why are you playing mute? Getting so worked up over a few photos of a dead person, when there’s a living one right here?” I turned my head to look out the window. The sunlight was bright, illuminating the hospital lawn where a few patients strolled. One young man in a hospital gown, his back to me, reminded me so much of Caleb. “Seraphina is easily scared. As a senior, can’t you be more understanding?” Tim continued to prattle on. “Those photos brought bad luck; I’ve wanted to get rid of them for ages. You—” “I want to rest,” I cut him off. “Could you please leave?” Tim’s words caught in his throat. He stared at me for a few seconds, then let out a cold chuckle. “Fine. You’ve got guts.” He grabbed his suit jacket. “I have a dinner engagement tonight. Won’t be back. Think things over carefully!” The door slammed shut. I slowly curled up, hugging my knees tightly. Caleb’s last photos were gone, the hard drive destroyed. But it didn’t matter. I remembered his face. I would always remember. … As dusk fell, I completed the discharge procedures. When I returned to the villa, it was dark inside. Tim was indeed gone. I walked straight to the bedroom, beginning to pack only the essentials—my passport, bank cards, a few changes of clothes. Nothing else mattered. I was halfway through packing when I heard the front door open downstairs, followed by laughter. “Mr. Winslow~ Slow down, darling~” “Little temptress, you’ve been seducing me all night at the dinner table…” It was Tim and Seraphina. I froze. Their footsteps ascended the stairs, stopping at the room next to mine. Soon, the creaking of bedsprings, a woman’s gasps, and a man’s low groans filled the air from the adjoining room. The sounds grew louder, Seraphina’s cries exaggerated. “Tim, you’re amazing!” “Little hussy, scream louder, let the neighbors hear…” The sounds continued for a long time, eventually fading into silence. I glanced at my phone. Three in the morning. I gently slid open a drawer, took out the sleeping pills I had prepared long ago, and poured two into my palm. When I woke up, I would be gone.

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