I was the golden child of a wealthy dynasty. In my past life, false accusations got me expelled from the Elite Arts Academy. My father died of shock, and our empire collapsed. Exiled to a rural labor camp, I suffered terribly. When I finally returned, I found Ethan Blackwood—my fiancé—beaten and forced into crippling debt. Guilt-ridden, I worked as a club dancer, even selling myself to a disgusting client to pay it off. The day I cleared the debt, I brought gifts—only to catch Ethan (who was supposedly paralyzed) in bed with my adoptive sister, Summer. Summer: “Thanks for reporting Ellie. Without you, I’d never have replaced her as lead dancer.” Ethan: “What if she finds out the debt was fake? That the client was just a paid actor?” Summer: “Who cares? She stole everything from you—your dance career, your inheritance. And she never suspected I faked my injury.” I vomited blood and died on the spot. But fate gave me a second chance. This time, I took that damning letter—and switched the name to Summer’s. 1 When my eyes next fluttered open, I was back to the day before the report was made. “Ellie, rehearsal’s over, why are you still lingering? Waiting for Ethan, are we?” A colleague from the Academy called out, a playful smirk on her face. I offered them a shy, manufactured smile. Everyone at the troupe knew Ethan and I were childhood sweethearts. But in my previous life, on this very day, he had personally placed an anonymous accusatory note on Director Hayes’s desk. From that moment on, my reputation was shattered, my life spiraled, and I met a humiliating end. Thank heavens for this second chance. This time, I’d turn the tables. Once the Academy emptied out and the lights dimmed, a furtive shadow slipped into the Director’s office – it was Ethan Blackwood, the Academy’s smooth-talking announcer. I hid in the murky corner, observing. A few minutes later, he left. I stepped inside the office. There, on the desk, lay a stark envelope. I tore it open. The contents were identical to the letter from my past life. It smeared my name, claiming promiscuity, involvement with multiple men, and even serving as a wealthy patron’s kept woman. I took the original letter, replacing it with an exact replica. The only difference? The name accused in the letter. I’d changed it from mine to Summer Woods. Even after it was done, a tremor of unreality ran through me. Last life, that letter had dragged me through hell. My name utterly destroyed, I’d rushed home, desperate for Father’s help, only to hear the housekeeper weeping that he’d spat blood and died from the shock. The family estate had plunged into bankruptcy, and I’d been forcibly sent away to that desolate rural work program. Overnight, I’d plummeted from the clouds into the mud. Before I left, I’d worried about Ethan and Summer suffering, so I’d given them the last scraps of our family fortune to manage, keeping nothing for myself. Life in the countryside was a brutal nightmare. Every grimy, back-breaking chore fell to me. I was ostracized, forced to sleep in a drafty barn, and battled endless illnesses through bitter winters and scorching summers. Once, I was sent to forage for firewood in the desolate hills after dark and narrowly escaped a pack of wild wolves. One agonizing memory after another flooded my mind, filling me with a raw, searing pain. Hatred, cold and deep, settled in my bones, and I burned with a furious self-pity. As I stepped out of the Academy gates, I saw Ethan hadn’t left yet. He spotted me, a flicker of panic in his eyes. “Ellie, why are you leaving so late? Wasn’t rehearsal over hours ago?” “Just took some time tidying up props today,” I said, a cold politeness in my voice. His hypocritical face made me want to say no more. Ethan visibly relaxed, seeing no suspicion in my reply. We walked down the quiet street in silence, each consumed by our own thoughts. Suddenly, a figure sprang out, intimately linking arms with Ethan. “Ethan, why did you leave first? Weren’t we going to celebrate with a fancy dinner tonight? After tomorrow, no one can stop us from being together…” That cloying voice could only belong to Summer Woods. We all worked at the Academy, yet he rarely sought me out. Turns out, after work every day, he was sneaking around with Summer. Ethan frantically pushed her away, turning to explain to me. “Ellie… she meant for all three of us to have dinner tonight. I just got paid…” Only then did Summer seem to notice me, a flash of annoyance in her eyes, quickly masked. “You two go on,” I cut in, too weary to watch their pretense. “I’m tired. Going home.” The real show, after all, wouldn’t start until tomorrow. Right now, all I wanted was to get home to Father—this time, he was still alive… “Sister, do you hate me that much? You won’t even share a meal with me.” Summer’s eyes welled up. Ethan looked at her with sickening tenderness, then rounded on me, his voice sharp with accusation. “Summer is your sister, after all. Why must you always hurt her feelings? You will come to this dinner.” Before I could protest, Ethan roughly tugged me, practically dragging me into the restaurant. 2 At the table, they chattered animatedly, completely ignoring me. Now, looking back, it had always been like this. Back then, I was foolish enough to believe their closeness was due to my presence, unaware of their secret affair brewing behind my back. Ethan, as if realizing he’d neglected me, feigned concern. “Ellie, eat more.” I looked at the mango shrimp salad, the French pudding… all of Summer’s favorites. Ethan had completely forgotten my seafood allergy, forgotten my utter dislike for anything overly sweet. My gaze drifted to the dance hall opposite, lost in thought. In my last life, after two years of aimless misery in the rural work program, I returned to the city to find Ethan confined to a wheelchair. Summer, in a torrent of tears, claimed Father’s enemies had stolen all our money, beaten Ethan, leaving him paralyzed and bound to a wheelchair for life. The guilt was overwhelming. I ran to the Onyx Club, taking a job as a dance hostess, desperate to earn enough to repay the supposed debts. I often found myself brawling over paltry tips, enduring vile insults: “Look at her, thrown out of the countryside for being a mistress, now she’s stealing clients? Addicted to being a home-wrecker, aren’t we?” Back then, I’d clutched the crumpled bills, swallowing my pride and the humiliation, all so I could buy them their favorite desserts after my shift. I poured my heart out for them, yet they couldn’t even remember what I was allergic to. The server, bringing our food, stumbled. A sizzling steak slid off the plate. My hand shot out instinctively to block it. The searing heat instantly blistered my arm, blood-red and bubbling. Summer, seated next to me, was also grazed, but her skin was only faintly pink. Ethan, in a flurry of concern, cupped her hand, gently blowing on it. Summer’s face flushed scarlet with apparent bashfulness. The server apologized profusely. A man in a sharp suit approached. “My deepest apologies, Miss. I’m the restaurant manager. Your meal is on the house today, and I’ll personally take you to a clinic for dressing.” I nodded, wincing in pain. Only then did Ethan seem to register the severity of my injury. Yet, I heard him say to the manager, “Could you take this lady first? Summer just has a scratch; Ellie’s injury can wait.” His shameless audacity made me laugh, a bitter, breathless sound. The manager, momentarily stunned, pretended not to hear, helped me up, and led me out of the restaurant, driving me to the clinic. Behind us, I heard Ethan’s enraged shouts and Summer’s feigned sobs. It was late when my arm was finally bandaged. The manager drove me home. He leaned against the car, his voice a lazy drawl. “I’m Jaxson Sterling. If you need any help in the future, you can find me at Sterling Manor on Willow Creek Lane, number 8.” I waved back. “I’m Eleanor Vance.” Jaxson Sterling smiled, a brief, knowing nod, and watched me go. When I returned, Ethan was seething. “Ellie, why are you back so late? Were you on a date with that man? How could you throw yourself at just anyone?” I was utterly speechless. “I burned my hand. If you won’t care, at least don’t slander me. And anyway, who I associate with is none of your business.” Summer interjected, “Sister, how can you speak to Ethan like that? If you ever get into trouble again, only we can help you…” A subtle flicker of malice crossed her eyes, hinting at something dark. “Oh, really? We’ll see about that,” I retorted, a cold smile on my lips. Seeing my defiance, Ethan shoved a gift box into my hands. “I picked this up while shopping. Consider it compensation for your burn.” It was the first time Ethan had ever given me a gift. He expected me to be overjoyed – in the past, even a wildflower he’d picked from the roadside could bring tears to my eyes. But this time, I didn’t spare it a glance. I took the gift and walked straight upstairs. 3 Pushing open Father’s bedroom door, I saw his kind face, peacefully asleep. I asked the housekeeper, “Has Father taken his medicine today?” “Yes, Miss. The Second Miss has been personally preparing his traditional remedies recently.” “Nonsense! Since when is it her place to handle his medicine?” I reprimanded the housekeeper sharply. “Forgive me, Miss Eleanor. You’ve always indulged the Second Miss, so I didn’t dare report it.” “From now on, Summer Woods is not to interfere with Father’s diet or daily care.” I carefully collected the remaining herbal dregs and instructed a footman to send them to Sterling Manor on Willow Creek Lane, number 8. In my previous life, Father had suffered a fatal hemorrhage before I even returned home. He had always loved and trusted me. He wouldn’t have succumbed to mere rumors. There had to be foul play. Summer Woods, if you dare harm my family, I will make you pay a hundredfold. The next morning, I came down for breakfast to find Summer and Ethan already seated at the dining table. Summer was wearing the most fashionable vintage gown, adorned with a matching diamond necklace and earrings. The glittering diamonds, accented with emeralds, made her look strikingly glamorous. The style felt eerily familiar. I remembered the gift Ethan had given me yesterday—it was of the same aesthetic. Compared to her set, my gift was painfully cheap—it was merely a trinket, a throw-in with Summer’s extravagant jewelry. Summer caught my gaze, her voice dripping with feigned fragility. “Am I making you angry, Sister, by wearing new clothes? “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to steal your thunder. It’s just… I’ve never worn such a beautiful dress. Ethan gave it to me, and I love it so much.” Before I could open my mouth, Ethan sneered, his voice laced with venom: “She’s your sister. Her looking beautiful reflects well on you. Are you afraid she’ll outshine you? Ellie, you’re too jealous.” I remembered Summer usually wore faded, worn-out dresses. Ethan had often scolded me for it, claiming I was stingy with my sister. But every time we went shopping, I bought her loads of clothes and accessories, which she never wore. I tried to explain countless times, but Ethan simply turned a deaf ear. I could only silently pay for the clothes he picked out for Summer, and then, he would begrudgingly favor me with a small smile. Back then, I was naive enough to believe he cared for my family. But it turned out Summer was deliberately playing the victim, creating the illusion that I mistreated her, all to gain Ethan’s sympathy. Hmph, such pathetic tactics. I slowly, deliberately, sliced the toast on my plate. “How about I set up a stage in the backyard, and you two can perform a full-blown melodrama for everyone?” “Summer Woods, honestly, when have I ever gone shopping without buying you clothes? I often buy more for you than for myself.” “And Ethan Blackwood, this is my house. You have no right to speak here. Pack your things. Get out.” In my previous life, these two scoundrels used my money to carry on their sordid affair in Father’s mansion, while I suffered isolated misery in the countryside. This time, your good days are over. Ethan exploded in a rage. “You want to kick me out? I’m going to marry you! This house will be partly mine!” Ethan was originally the son of Father’s business partner. After his family fell on hard times, they moved back to the countryside. Out of sentiment for our childhood connection, and fearing he’d struggle, I pleaded with Father to let him stay at our home. I never imagined that being too kind to some people only breeds insatiable greed. 4 “What’s all this commotion so early in the morning?” Father descended the grand spiral staircase. I rushed forward to steady him. He affectionately pinched my cheek. “My little darling, how’s rehearsal going? This time, Dad won’t miss your performance.” “I’ve practiced so well, Dad. You simply must come see it in a few days.” Summer watched our tender exchange, biting her lower lip in simmering resentment. Ethan discreetly squeezed her hand, whispering a reassurance. “After today, Ellie’s reputation will be ruined. Everything here will be yours.” Only then did her expression soften. She turned to me, a smug glint in her eyes. “Sister, shall we go? I’m really looking forward to today’s… rehearsal.” 【Alright, Summer Woods, if you’re so eager to plummet to hell, I’ll gladly oblige.】 In my past life, I met a client at the Onyx Club who offered to be my patron, his terms lavish enough to clear all my debts. That patron often tormented me in bed, driving me to the brink of despair. Afraid Ethan and Summer would worry, I only dared to cry and vent when no one was around. Later, Ethan caught me getting out of the patron’s car. Overwhelmed with shame, I wept, saying I was soiled, that I could never be worthy of him again. He pulled me into his arms. “Ellie is the purest girl. It’s all my fault, a useless cripple. Otherwise, why would I make you do such things? Once the debt is paid, we’ll get married. I’ll protect you for the rest of our lives.” With Ethan’s promise, I worked even harder. The day I finally paid off the debt, I joyfully quit my dance hostess job, bid farewell to the patron, and went shopping for gifts for them both. I ran home through the rain, soaked to the bone, but the gifts, clutched to my chest, remained perfectly dry. Pushing open the front door, through a narrow crack, I saw Ethan, who should have been in a wheelchair, holding Summer as if he were whole, entangled in passionate kisses on the bed. Then I heard the full, horrifying truth. The ones who had brought me to this ruin were the very people I held dearest. Rage surged through me, a violent current. My already sickly, weakened body could no longer bear it. I coughed up a torrent of blood. Before I lost consciousness, I heard Ethan tell Summer: “Ellie’s nothing but a harlot, sick from being used. I wouldn’t take a woman like that even if she were free. Everything I did was for you, Summer… you’re the only one in my heart…” In my previous life, I met such a miserable end. Now, everything would be reversed. Entering the rehearsal studio, everyone was whispering, pointing fingers at us. “I can’t believe it, she’s really that loose…” “Yeah, at such a young age, playing mistress…” “She looks so innocent, but secretly, she’s doing such unspeakable things.” Summer, hearing the whispers,’s eyes flickered with a knowing cunning. She positioned herself protectively in front of me, declaring loudly, “You can’t say such things about my sister! How could she do anything so vulgar?” In my previous life, she acted the same, pretending to be my devoted sister. And that’s precisely why I never suspected them. 5 Luna White, usually my closest friend, pulled me away from Summer, casting a disdainful look at her. “We weren’t talking about Ellie. Some people know exactly what they’re talking about.” Left alone, Summer saw everyone staring at her with hostile eyes, confusion clouding her face. 【Did Ethan not put the letter in? No… he said the plan was foolproof last night.】 Thinking this, her confidence returned. She lifted her chin, a defiant glint in her eyes. Just then, Director Hayes walked in, her face stern. “Summer Woods, my office. Now.” Ethan, who had been lingering outside the door, saw Summer enter the office and rushed over to confront me. “Ellie, if you caused trouble, you should bear it yourself. Why did you let Summer go in there to speak for you? “What about her reputation? Are you always so selfish?” Luna bristled, indignant. “Are you even listening to yourself? Everyone in the Academy knows now that Summer Woods was the one being kept. She’s the one ruining Ellie’s name!”

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1 This time, I defied my parents, refusing their carefully laid plans for a strategic alliance, a marriage to Eleanor Hayes. In my previous life, I had embraced that union, marrying her with an open heart, only to find her affections hopelessly tethered to Julian Thorne, the phantom of her past. He was her “one who got away,” the man she truly loved. She wove a web of deceit around me for decades, and then, on my deathbed, her gentle, caring facade shattered. Her face twisted into a mask of pure fury as she unleashed her venom. “If your family hadn’t used their business dealings to force my parents into marrying me off to you, Julian and I would have been gloriously happy forever!” “Julian’s tragic death, a victim of his own spiraling depression? That’s all your fault!” “Every day I looked at you, I felt nothing but utter disgust. If it weren’t for raising Julian’s son, I would have dragged you with me long ago to atone for what you did to him!” “My child? There was no such thing! I bore Julian’s child!” So, even the boy I had raised as my own, showering him with love for years, wasn’t mine! A consuming, bitter resentment, a searing hatred, clawed at my chest as my eyes finally closed. But then, in the blink of an eye, I was back. Back to the very day my parents first proposed the alliance with the Hayes family. This time, my refusal was immediate, unequivocal. “Mom, Dad, I’m not marrying Eleanor Hayes!” Both my parents looked genuinely stunned, their expressions a mix of surprise and confusion. Father, still processing, asked, “Didn’t you, from childhood, always badger us about marrying that Hayes girl? You swore she was the one!” He was right, of course. Everyone in our social circle knew I’d trailed Eleanor around since we were kids, even proclaiming I’d marry no one but her. In my past life, when our families decided on the alliance, I’d been overjoyed, agreeing without a moment’s hesitation. But I never dreamed Eleanor, who had never voiced any opposition, would come to hate me for it. She resented me for not opposing the union, for forcing her to sacrifice her happiness for her family’s business. She even blamed me for Julian Thorne’s eventual suicide from depression. Her hatred for me was so profound, yet for the sake of our families’ partnership, she dared not show a shred of it. She allowed me to raise a child that had no relation to me, only to deliver that crushing, final blow, leaving me to die consumed by hatred. Reborn, how could I possibly love such an ungrateful, venomous wretch? “Come on, Dad, who hasn’t made those kinds of childish jokes? I’m grown up now. I just don’t think she’s my type. I don’t want to marry her!” My parents exchanged a look. Mother, thoughtful, said, “The senior Hayes’ were still hoping to talk to your father and me about you becoming their son-in-law, to truly cement the bond between our families.” I blurted out, a desperate edge to my voice, “Mom, you didn’t agree, did you? Please tell me you didn’t!” Mother shook her head, a soft sigh escaping her lips. “No, I told them we’d need to ask you first.” Father chimed in, a surprising sense of relief in his tone, “Since our son feels this way, then we’ll drop it. Besides, I always had a gut feeling that Hayes girl didn’t truly care for our Ethan.” Mother nodded vigorously, a visible weight lifting from her shoulders. My parents finally decided they would decline the Hayes’ proposal in the next couple of days. It dawned on me then: my parents hadn’t actually been keen on the marriage in the first place. In my previous life, I was so utterly fixated on Eleanor that I’d completely missed these subtle cues, blinded by my own infatuation. This time, by refusing the alliance, she shouldn’t have anything to hold against me, right? But I hadn’t anticipated that the very evening my parents declined the Hayes’ proposal, Eleanor would call me. “Ethan Vance, what game are you playing?” Her voice was sharp, accusatory. “Eleanor Hayes, what on earth are you doing now?” I retorted, my patience wearing thin. “You know perfectly well!” she snapped back. “I’m asking why you refused the alliance? I don’t have time for your little mind games. If you want to marry me, fine, but don’t make things complicated!” I was somewhat surprised by her brazenness, but a moment later, a cold understanding dawned. At this precise time in the previous life, Mr. Hayes had made a critical business error. The company’s cash flow had dried up, pushing the Hayes family to the brink of bankruptcy. Eleanor later claimed that if Mr. Hayes hadn’t coerced her into sacrificing herself for the family business, she would have abandoned everything and run away with Julian Thorne. It seemed she was, once again, “forced” to try and win me back, her grand act of sacrifice. How utterly absurd. If she truly had the resolve to abandon everything, why would she come chasing after me? I said coldly, the words cutting like ice, “I don’t like you. Why can’t I refuse the alliance? Vance Corporation is perfectly sound; it doesn’t need to be saved by a marriage alliance.” “You don’t like me?! How is that possible!” Her voice shot up, stunned disbelief turning swiftly into raw anger. “And what do you mean by that last part? Are you implying my family isn’t worthy of an alliance with yours?!” She accused me, her voice dripping with venom, “I never thought you’d be so opportunistic!” I stated calmly, my voice flat, “You misunderstand. I simply don’t wish to interfere with your destiny with Mr. Thorne.” Her voice faltered, tinged with panic. “What are you saying? Julian and I are completely innocen—” Her words cut off abruptly. I chuckled, a humorless sound. “I didn’t mention his name, did I? Anyway, I wish you both boundless happiness. Goodbye!” I wished them an eternal entanglement, a life hopelessly chained together, so they’d never bother me again. But the Hayes family didn’t give up. After that, they bothered my parents relentlessly, every few days, trying to persuade them to agree to the alliance. I was beyond annoyed, beyond frustrated. To escape their incessant badgering, I traveled abroad for a month, hoping for peace. The day I returned home, the Hayes family, all three of them, showed up at our doorstep. Over that month, Hayes Corp.’s situation had only worsened. Mr. Hayes had already accumulated massive debts trying to save the company. Without new investment, it was a dead end. From then on, there would be no chance of recovery, only an inescapable abyss of lifelong debt. The three of them entered, their expressions varied, a telling tableau of their desperation. Mr. Hayes looked haggard, his shoulders slumped. Mrs. Hayes was overtly anxious, wringing her hands. Eleanor, however, wore a frigid expression, her eyes blazing with humiliated fury. I looked at Eleanor. She was still the same as she had been at this time in my previous life. Back then, she was always melancholy, shrouded in a dark cloud, often drinking herself into a stupor. Seeing her like that, I’d assumed she was unhappy about the alliance. Though it pained me, I told her I could convince my parents to call it off. But she had consoled me, saying she was willing to marry me, just unhappy that her father would drag our family down for his failing company. I was deeply moved. To make her happy, I convinced my parents to use most of our liquid assets to save Hayes Corp. This caused Vance Corp. to miss out on crucial growth opportunities, allowing the Hayes family to eventually gain an unfair advantage over us. Thinking about it now, her deep sorrow back then, the reason she drank so much, was likely because she couldn’t be with Julian. Mr. Hayes, seeing Eleanor’s stubborn silence, smacked her sharply on the back. “Are you mute?! Say something!” Eleanor still kept her lips pressed tight, a defiant line. She glanced at me, then her gaze flickered away, unable to hold eye contact. Seeing she wouldn’t budge, Mr. Hayes forced a smile, a pathetic, strained grimace. “Oh, this silly girl heard Ethan was coming home today, and she just had to rush over herself. “She and Ethan had some misunderstanding a while back, and she’s been regretting it, but she’s too embarrassed to say anything. So she insisted we come along and make fools of ourselves.” Mr. Hayes chuckled, a hollow sound, but I knew his game: he was merely using his senior status to make it awkward for me to refuse outright. As long as I didn’t explicitly refuse today, they’d have room to maneuver, and would certainly press their advantage later, like a snake following a stick. Mrs. Hayes also forced a smile, equally strained. “Eleanor told us. Julian Thorne is just a casual friend of hers. She saw he was having a hard time and merely looked out for him a bit more. It’s just that Eleanor and Ethan were both hot-headed that day, exchanging sharp words, which led to this misunderstanding.” The implication was clear, accusatory: I hadn’t been calm enough, I shouldn’t have argued with their precious, innocent daughter. With that, Mr. and Mrs. Hayes subtly nudged Eleanor, giving her pointed looks, urging her to play her part. Eleanor hesitated for a long moment, then, as if pulling teeth, she reluctantly began, “Ethan, you truly misun—” I cut her off, my voice sharp. “I understand. You and Julian Thorne are just casual friends, correct?” Mr. Hayes eagerly jumped in, relief flooding his face. “Yes, yes! Exactly!” He visibly relaxed, smiling. “It’s good that the misunderstanding is cleared up. It would be such a waste for two young people to miss out on a wonderful union over something like this.” I feigned shock, my expression a theatrical marvel. “Mr. Hayes, are you misunderstanding? Eleanor and I are also just casual friends! Besides, I’m still young, and I’m not in a rush to get married.” The Hayes family’s faces instantly cycled through a kaleidoscope of emotions—from shock to disbelief, then to utter despair and finally, raw fury. A truly spectacular sight. Eventually, my parents politely ushered the family of three out, not even inviting them to stay for dinner. After they left, Mother still seemed a little uneasy. “Ethan, were you truly sincere about what you just said? You really don’t want to marry Eleanor?” I nodded vigorously, emphatically. “Never more sincere, Mom. I genuinely don’t like Eleanor Hayes at all. You can be one hundred and twenty percent sure! Put all your worries aside!” I found it both amusing and a little frustrating, but I knew my past actions and words had fueled their worry. Thankfully, the Hayes family was on the verge of bankruptcy. Once their empire crumbled, my parents, seeing my unwavering indifference, would surely be completely reassured and drop the matter for good! A few days later, a friend from my circle returned home from overseas. A group of us arranged a gathering to welcome him back, a casual get-together at a trendy downtown spot. During dinner, a friend gasped, looking at his phone, his eyes wide. “Well, that’s certainly… bold.” He then sent the video to the rest of us, sharing it in our group chat. In the video, a man was embracing a woman, pressed against a lamppost on a busy street, passionately kissing her, utterly oblivious to the world. A car with its headlights on drove past, illuminating the scene, and in that instant, I clearly saw the faces of the man and woman. It was Eleanor Hayes and Julian Thorne. I smiled, a cold, knowing curve of my lips, tapping to save the video. This was a good piece of evidence. Perhaps it would come in handy later. That night, after I showered and was about to turn off the lights and get into bed, my phone buzzed. It was a call from Eleanor. Her words were slurred over the phone, thick with alcohol, as if she were heavily intoxicated. “Ethan Vance,” she mumbled, her voice thick, “Julian and I have talked. I’m getting married, and I won’t be seeing him anymore.” I yawned, feigning disinterest. “Congratulations.” She sounded desperate, a frantic edge to her voice. “Ethan Vance, you know what I mean! I’m marrying you!” I said casually, my voice flat, “Eleanor Hayes, I believe I’ve already made myself clear. You and I are just casual friends. I only see you as a casual friend. Who you separate from, or who you marry, has nothing to do with me.” Eleanor sounded exasperated, her voice rising in frustration. “Ethan Vance, I’ve lowered myself enough! Take the easy way out before you push it too far. Be careful, or I might really not marry you, and then you’ll have nowhere to cry!” “Oh, oh, oh,” I drawled, bored. “Are you done? Great. Now please take your noble ‘easy way out’ with you. I don’t want it, thanks. I’m very tired. Goodbye!” With that, I hung up, ending the charade. A few days later was Mr. and Mrs. Hayes’ thirtieth wedding anniversary celebration, a lavish affair. In my past life, Mr. Hayes had announced our families’ alliance on this very day. This time, of course, the Vance and Hayes families would not be uniting. However, judging by that phone call, Eleanor hadn’t given up. The Hayes family might try something at the party, a last-ditch effort. But thankfully, with the video my friend sent me earlier, I was well prepared. On the evening of the banquet, the Hayes family of three waited anxiously at the grand entrance. They looked overjoyed to see us arrive, their smiles strained. Honestly, if we could, our family would rather not have come. But the Hayes family and ours had at least been on good terms before. Now that they weren’t completely bankrupt yet, if we cut ties the moment they fell on hard times, people would inevitably call us heartless. Father, always one for propriety, had also prepared a generous gift, coming to offer his congratulations, a final formality. As soon as we walked in, Mr. Hayes beamed, his face overly jovial. “Mr. Vance, you’re too kind! Your presence is gift enough, why bring presents!” Mrs. Hayes nudged Eleanor, then smiled at me, a calculated sweetness. “Ethan, Eleanor here says she has something private to tell you.” This time, Eleanor wasn’t sneering or annoyed like last time. Instead, she looked at me with a soft, gentle expression, perfectly playing the part. Then Mrs. Hayes turned to my parents. “With us elders here, these young ones might feel awkward discussing personal matters. Let’s go chat somewhere else for a bit.” My parents looked at me, a silent question in their eyes. I gave them a reassuring look, a subtle signal that they shouldn’t worry, I had everything under control. Once my parents and Mr. and Mrs. Hayes had left, Eleanor leaned in, her voice a low, intimate whisper. “Ethan, I’ve missed you so much. “I don’t know why you suddenly became so cold to me, and that huge misunderstanding… the truth is, you’re the one I’ve always loved…” A jolt of pure revulsion went through me. I hastily took two steps back, putting distance between us. “Stop. Who you like or don’t like, I’m simply not interested. “I don’t know what I did or said wrong to make you misunderstand that I would marry you. “But let me say it again, right now, unequivocally: I only feel like a casual friend towards you. If you continue to pester me, if you try to make a scene, then I’ll simply have to find a way to ensure you never appear before me again.” Her right hand clenched tightly at her side, her knuckles white, clearly straining to control the rage simmering beneath her facade. After a long, tense silence, she suddenly laughed, a brittle, humorless sound. “Playing hard to get doesn’t suit you, Ethan Vance. It makes you look childish. “My offer still stands: take the easy way out. Don’t push me. Otherwise, you should know, I don’t need you. I have other options.” I deliberately made a retching sound, a loud, disgusted gag, then, ignoring her horrified, crimson face, turned and walked away. Midway through the banquet, Mr. Hayes took the stage to give a speech, his voice booming. After expressing a few effusive sentiments about his enduring love for Mrs. Hayes, he abruptly changed course, his voice swelling with false pride. “Ladies and gentlemen, I actually have some truly joyous news to announce today!” “My beautiful daughter, Eleanor Hayes, is soon to tie the knot with the distinguished Mr. Ethan Vance!” At his brazen declaration, all eyes in the opulent ballroom swiveled to our family, a collective gasp rippling through the crowd. My parents’ faces immediately darkened, their expressions turning stony. After Eleanor’s phone call that day, the Hayes family hadn’t bothered us again. My parents had assumed the Hayes had finally given up, which was why they had come to the celebration today out of respect for our families’ past relationship. They never expected Mr. Hayes to pull such a blatant, desperate stunt. Eleanor, too, began walking toward me, her smile fixed, a triumphant glint in her eyes, holding out a gleaming ring. “Ethan, we’ve known each other since childhood, growing up together. All these years, I’ve never imagined marrying any man but you. “I told you long ago I’d marry you, and now I’m here to fulfill that promise, to make us truly one. “Marry me, Ethan.”

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After rebirth, my first act was to secretly keep six stunning male companions—relentlessly pursuing intimacy for 999 days behind my elite husband’s back. Why? In my past life, my powerful husband had low fertility. He married me—a famously fertile woman—just to breed an heir. I prayed desperately, but my womb stayed empty. Meanwhile, my “infertile” best friend Serena Hayes married an old tycoon and birthed twins, then triplets in two years. Obsessed with her “blessed womb,” my husband had an affair with her. When I found out, they killed me. In death, I learned the truth: Serena was part of a child-swapping system. Every baby I conceived was transferred to her womb. Her barrenness? Cursed onto me. Now, reborn on my wedding day, I smiled coldly. If Serena wanted endless babies… I’d make sure she got them. 1 “Given your background, marrying into the Sterling family is already quite a leap. I expect you to remember your duty: produce a son, and quickly, one capable of inheriting our legacy.” “Consider this a two-year trial marriage. If you successfully conceive within that period, then, and only then, will we formalize our union at City Hall.” The frigid voice pierced my ears, jolting me back to the present. I looked up to see Brandon Sterling, eyes cold and imperious, gazing down at me. A moment ago, I was trapped, engulfed in the inferno of a burning car, clawing desperately for escape. Yet, in the blink of an eye, I had been reborn. Reborn into this very day: the day my wealthy, privileged husband brought me into his elite world. Seeing me frozen, silent, my best friend, Serena Hayes, clad in her bridesmaid’s gown, quickly prodded me. “Skylar,” Serena chirped, her voice dripping with saccharine sweetness, “for someone from your meager background to marry into a prominent family, it’s a blessing you’ve accumulated over a thousand lifetimes! What are you hesitating for?” “Unless,” she added, her tone laced with faux concern, “you’re worried you won’t conceive, and the Sterling family will send you packing during this trial period?” Her mocking voice grated on my ears. I lifted my gaze to meet hers, and saw the barely veiled schadenfreude, the cunning gleam in her eyes, impossible to hide. How absurd! In my past life, I was so utterly consumed by the joy of marrying into wealth—the means to finally afford Grandma’s life-saving surgery—that I never once suspected her, never once saw the viper cloaked as a friend. My family possessed a centuries-old, uncanny legacy of fertility. From my great-great-grandmother onward, the women in my lineage were famed for their prolific pregnancies: multiple births, twins, and triplets were exceptionally common. By my mother’s generation, she had birthed a remarkable seven children—six sons, and I, the sole daughter. Word of my family’s legendary fertility reached Brandon Sterling, a scion of wealth who had just received a devastating diagnosis of low sperm count. He immediately launched a relentless pursuit of me. I, drawn by his persistent charm, and with Grandma’s life hanging by the thread of a hefty hospital bill, joyfully accepted Brandon’s proposal, believing it a fortunate turn of fate. But then, on our wedding day, Brandon’s demeanor abruptly shifted. He presented the cold, calculated demand of a trial marriage. For Grandma’s sake, I swallowed my pride, accepting his humiliating terms. For two grueling years, I relentlessly pursued conception. I endured countless ovulation stimulant injections, swallowing bottle after bottle of folic acid supplements and bitter herbal concoctions. Yet, as the two years vanished, my womb remained stubbornly, agonizingly silent. Brandon, convinced I had swindled him, turned to physical abuse, his frustration manifesting in violent outbursts. It was then that my best friend, Serena Hayes—the very woman once diagnosed with irreversible infertility—after marrying an elderly septuagenarian, inexplicably birthed twins, then triplets, in rapid succession. Serena’s newfound reputation for miraculous fertility and abundant offspring quickly snared Brandon’s attention. They began a sordid affair behind my back, culminating in her conception of an illegitimate child, his child. When I uncovered their treachery, Brandon wasted no time, instantly casting me out of his lavish mansion, severing the vital monthly payments that kept Grandma alive. I pleaded desperately, begging him to consider my two years of futile devotion, to lend me the money that could still save Grandma. But Serena, fearing Brandon might waver, acted with ruthless cruelty: she dispatched men to run me over, leaving me to die a brutal, lonely death. It was only in death that the chilling truth unraveled: Serena Hayes had been bound to a sinister “child-swapping” system. Any life that stirred within my womb, any child I managed to conceive, would be instantly, agonizingly, transferred to her belly. And her barrenness, once her own cruel fate, had been insidiously, irreversibly, thrust upon me. Ultimately, Serena, her womb now miraculously fertile with my stolen children, usurped my place, marrying into the Sterling family and wielding their power to crush my entire family. With chilling malice, she deliberately brought gruesome evidence of my demise to the hospital, parading it before Grandma, triggering a fatal heart attack that left her dying with unseeing, tormented eyes. My six brothers and my parents, seeking justice for me, met brutal, consecutive deaths, one after another. Recalling the litany of horrors from my past life, a primal rage surged through me, a burning desire to tear Serena Hayes limb from limb, to devour her alive. But I knew, with a cold, calculating certainty, that this was not yet the moment to confront Serena head-on. I smiled, a thin, knowing twist of my lips, and instantly agreed to Brandon Sterling’s trial marriage stipulation. “No problem, darling,” I purred, a false sweetness in my voice. “I assure you, I’ll deliver a magnificent heir for the Sterling family within two years.” 2 Brandon eyed me, a flicker of doubt in his gaze. “You really agree?” I nodded, a confident tilt to my chin. “Don’t worry, darling. I have every confidence.” Seeing me so agreeable, so brimming with confidence about conception, Brandon’s tone softened perceptibly. “Skylar, rest assured,” he said, a possessive warmth entering his voice, “if you can give me a son within two years, I’ll take you straight to City Hall and make it official.” With that, Brandon grandly slipped a dazzling, pigeon-egg-sized diamond ring onto my finger. As the officiant’s prompts echoed through the hall, he closed his eyes and leaned in, his lips seeking mine. Meanwhile, Serena Hayes, standing beside me as my bridesmaid, wore not a hint of blessing on her face—only a raw, barely contained, almost manic envy. I subtly cast a sidelong glance at Serena, fuming in the corner, her jaw clenched. A cold, knowing smirk played on my lips, hidden from view. Just as expected, Serena could no longer contain the restless fervor within her. In a few quick strides, she darted forward, her smile saccharine, and deftly separated Brandon and me. She deliberately, yet with feigned innocence, brushed her ample chest against Brandon, practically throwing herself into his arms, her voice a sickly sweet whine. “Oh, Mr. Sterling,” she cooed, her voice cloyingly playful, “why so eager? We haven’t even had the reception fun yet! You can’t just go kissing our bride willy-nilly!” Serena, emboldened by her perceived beauty, brazenly began to overtly seduce him right there in front of me. Alas, Brandon, a seasoned playboy scion, had seen his share of women, countless types. His obsession was singularly focused on procreation. He’d long heard rumors of Serena’s numerous abortions leading to infertility. He held her in utter contempt, utterly uninterested. Brandon forcibly shoved Serena away from him, a harsh, dismissive push. A flicker of wounded surprise crossed Serena’s eyes, quickly masked by resentment. She didn’t blame Brandon. Instead, her venom was instantly, solely, directed at me. Serena, feigning innocent curiosity, turned to me. “Skylar,” she began, a hint of patronizing skepticism in her tone, “is your family’s famous fertility truly so miraculous? Or are you just exaggerating? What if you can’t get pregnant? You’ll be sent back, you know.” Brandon, hearing her insinuation, cast a suspicious glance my way. Serena, too, stared at me, her lips curling into a triumphant, mocking smirk. I didn’t waver, not a single tremor. I simply continued to nod, calmly, confidently. “My family’s legendary fertility has been passed down for five generations,” I stated, my voice unwavering, “and it has never, ever, failed.” “Rest assured,” I added, a chilling sincerity in my tone, “I will absolutely not disappoint you. I’ll deliver a son, and soon!” As I spoke, I deliberately produced a small bag from my purse, right there in front of them. It was filled with pre-prepared ovulation stimulants and fertility-boosting medications. At this sight, Serena’s eyes immediately gleamed with an almost manic avarice. Brandon, equally impatient, eagerly seized my hand, declaring instantly. “Skylar, let’s skip the rest of the wedding formalities,” he urged, his voice thick with anticipation. “Let’s head straight to the bridal suite now! We’ll surely conceive a son tonight!” Serena, too, laughed, a brittle, strained sound, and pulled my hand, practically shoving me towards the bridal suite. “Skylar, hurry, go make babies with Mr. Sterling!” she chirped, a false cheer in her voice. “I’m just dying to hold your child soon!” Watching their undisguised eagerness to exploit me, I let out a silent, chilling scoff. In my past life, Brandon Sterling had pursued me with relentless determination, brought me into his home, all solely to use me as a breeding machine. Even though he knew excessive ovulation stimulant injections were detrimental to health, he still forced me to endure them daily, utterly indifferent to my agonizing pain, the torment that left me feeling like death, even the permanent damage to my ovaries. And Serena Hayes, not only did she exploit that cursed system to snatch everything from me, she orchestrated the gruesome deaths of my entire family. They were a monstrous duo: he, a predatory tiger ravening for my essence; she, a malevolent demon, aiding his cruel feast. Together, they relentlessly drained me of every last drop of my worth, then pushed me to my brutal demise. Reborn into this life, I would ensure they both paid the ultimate, agonizing price for their sins! 3 On our wedding night, Serena, without hesitation, injected me with an overdose of ovulation stimulants. And Brandon, utterly disregarding the agonizing, plummeting ache in my lower abdomen from the excessive dosage, took me ruthlessly, repeatedly, well over a dozen times. Both of them, consumed with feverish anticipation for my womb to blossom with life, showered me with countless traditional herbal concoctions, insisting I “nourish” my body for conception. In my past life, ignorant of Brandon’s critically low sperm count, I truly believed he genuinely desired a child, truly loved the idea of a family. And so, no matter how bitter those medicines tasted, I obediently swallowed every drop. But this time, I poured every last drop of those vile potions directly into a potted plant. Then, I pulled out my phone and summoned six virile, handsome male escorts. In my previous life, I toiled endlessly at home, enduring daily injections and bitter medicines, while Brandon’s parade of outside flings and fleeting lovers never ceased. He spent his days ensnared in a web of various women, only returning to our bed at night, solely for the purpose of procreation. Fortunately, he was quite generous with money, never skimping on funds, utterly indifferent to anything else beyond his singular goal. Thus, in this life, my discreet dalliances with six male escorts remained utterly undetected by him. By day, I lost myself in unbridled passion with the energetic escorts, their bodies intertwined with mine. By night, I offered Brandon only a perfunctory, disinterested physical presence. And I never forgot to needle Serena Hayes with subtle jabs, messaging her, hinting—both overtly and covertly—that I felt I was very likely already pregnant. Sure enough, no sooner had I dropped that tantalizing hint to Serena than she, on the very next day, abruptly married a wealthy, septuagenarian gentleman.

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The annual Royal Selection, held in King’s Landing, sought a suitable bride for Prince Edmund, the King’s heir. In my last life, it was I who claimed victory. Prince Edmund wed me as his Princess Consort. Lady Seraphina, the woman he loved, fell gravely ill, fading away in sorrow. After he ascended the throne, he never crowned me Queen. Instead, a solemn effigy of Seraphina graced the throne. He made me kneel before it for three days and three nights. “Had you not deliberately damaged Seraphina’s lute strings, she would have triumphed. It was your meddling that kept us apart.” “This crown, this throne, was meant for her.” He condemned my father, the Duke of Ravenshield, seizing our lands and condemning him to the gallows, all to quell his Kingly rage. My mother, consumed by grief, beat her head against his coffin until her spirit departed. The House of Blackwood was undone. But in this life, during the Royal Selection, I deliberately injured my wrist, withdrawing from the contest. If Prince Edmund desired a life bound solely to Lady Seraphina, I would grant them their wish. 1 “The victor of the Royal Selection is: Lady Seraphina, daughter of the Lord Chamberlain!” The Grand Adjudicator’s voice boomed across the Great Hall. A murmur rippled through the gathered nobility. “Can you believe it? She won!” “I heard Lady Eleanor Blackwood twisted her wrist. Lady Seraphina was truly blessed by fortune.” “Didn’t the King and Queen favor Lady Eleanor as Prince Edmund’s Princess Consort?” “But it was declared that the victor would be the Princess Consort. Prince Edmund himself set the terms.” Prince Edmund, a radiant smile gracing his features, eagerly grasped Lady Seraphina’s hand and stepped forward. “Father, Mother, this is the consort your son has chosen.” His eyes held an undiluted tenderness, while Seraphina’s cheeks flushed a vibrant crimson, as if about to bleed. Yet, her hand remained clasped tightly in his, never faltering. All eyes turned to me, my wrist still swathed in bandages. A mixture of pity and veiled amusement danced in their gazes, anticipating a spectacle. Even the Queen Consort eyed me, her lips parting as if to speak, then closing. It was widely known that she had intended for me to be the Prince Consort, having even discreetly approached my father, the Duke of Ravenshield, to prevent him from betrothing me elsewhere. Now, a sudden turn of events. The Queen hesitated, then addressed Prince Edmund: “Do you harbor affection for any other lady? Your father is in good spirits today; perhaps, if you speak her name, he might consent to a dual union.” Her gaze flickered to me, a subtle hint that if he spoke my name, the King might command him to take two consorts. But the Queen was mistaken. For I, Lady Eleanor, harbored no desire to wed Prince Edmund again. In my last life, Prince Edmund accused me of breaking Seraphina’s lute strings, ruining her chance at triumph. Yet, such a petty act was beneath me. Had he possessed even a sliver of clarity, had he truly considered my character, he would have known I was incapable of such malice. But his heart had already been seized by the sight of a tearful Seraphina. She had wrenched her hand from his, weeping, “I know Lady Eleanor despises me, but I only wanted a fair chance to win your affection. Why would she deny me even that? Is it simply because her father is the powerful Duke of Ravenshield?” Her words, a poisoned seed, laid the groundwork for my father’s downfall after Edmund’s coronation. Later, I discovered the truth: the ancient melody I had performed during that fateful competition, a lost ballad, had mesmerized even the Maestros of the Royal Conservatory. My performance had caused the Royal Gardens to burst into unnatural bloom, a sign of true artistic mastery. Seraphina, seeing her defeat imminent, had deliberately snapped her own lute strings, feigning a tragic accident to ensure her loss. 2 This life, I would offer her no such opportunity. I chose to feign an accidental injury to my wrist at the Vernal Ball the night before, rendering me unable to compete. Anything to avoid falling into her snare again. If they wished to be bound to one another, I would grant them their singular devotion. I would ensure I remained far, far away. Upon hearing the Queen’s question, Prince Edmund declared with a booming voice, “Mother, Seraphina is the only woman I have ever loved. Now that she has claimed victory, I humbly ask that you seal her as my true Princess Consort.” “My heart’s desire is to be bound to Seraphina alone, for all time.” The Queen sighed, a weary breath escaping her lips. “I have no objection to you naming her your Princess Consort. However, you are my trueborn son and your father’s heir. You cannot have but one consort. You must ensure the succession, provide a thriving line for the Crown. Do you understand?” She looked pointedly at Seraphina, whose eyes remained fixed solely on Prince Edmund. Love, perhaps, grants boundless courage. Seraphina stepped forward, her voice trembling slightly, yet resolute. “Your Majesty, once Prince Edmund and I are wed, I shall strive with all my might to bear many children for the Crown. But Prince Edmund has sworn he will never take another woman.” “Every woman yearns for a singular bond with the man she loves, a life bound to one another alone. Surely, Your Majesty, you yourself cherish such a dream? I humbly implore you, do not grant any other noblewoman as a secondary consort to Prince Edmund.” Silence descended upon the hall, then erupted into a cacophony of varied expressions among the assembled nobles. The faces of several high noblewomen, whose daughters had hoped to become secondary consorts, turned as dark as storm clouds. “Lady Seraphina is bold indeed! Not yet Princess Consort, and already dictating who Prince Edmund may or may not take as a secondary consort!” “Which prince takes but one wife? Especially the King and Queen’s trueborn heir! What is she thinking? Does she wish the Prince to have a meager line?” “Any lady who weds into Prince Edmund’s household now will surely face a harsh future.” “It seems Lady Seraphina intends to monopolize the Prince’s affections entirely.” Prince Edmund, hearing Seraphina’s plea, knew it was ill-advised, yet his protective instinct prevailed. “Please, Mother, grant us this wish.” The Queen closed her eyes for a moment, then waved her hand dismissively. “You may all depart. A royal edict concerning the betrothal will be issued in three days.” All the courtiers filed out, a river of silk and velvet. I had not yet reached the palace gates when a voice called out, “Lady Eleanor!” It was Seraphina. Behind her, a lady-in-waiting carried a tray laden with jewels Prince Edmund had bestowed upon her. Seraphina smiled, approaching me. “My apologies, Lady Eleanor. I never imagined you wouldn’t compete today. I truly thought you would win.” I offered a faint smile. “My congratulations, Lady Seraphina. May your heart’s desire be fulfilled.” Her eyes welled up, glistening. “Will you resent me? I know the Queen favored you. But I love Prince Edmund so deeply, and he promised to wed me. For him, I had to set aside our friendship. Please, don’t hold it against me.” “This pomegranate brooch, Prince Edmund gave it to me. I wish to gift it to you, a token of our sisterly bond. May you soon find a worthy lord and bear many children.” I took the trinket. Before I could speak, a man’s hand snatched the brooch from my grasp. “That was my gift to you! Why would you give it away? It was a blessing for us to have many children after our wedding. How can you be so careless with my intentions?” Seraphina gazed at Prince Edmund, her expression coy and charming. “Your Grace, my sister is distraught at not being chosen. I merely wished to comfort her. You needn’t be so illiberal.” 3 Prince Edmund’s eyes, however, were fixed on me, a mocking glint in their depths. “Distraught? Lady Eleanor, it is my mother who favored you, not I. I hope you understand that. The Queen doubtless valued your father’s influence. But when I ascend to the throne, I shall be King! All will be my vassals, and all will support me, will they not?” “I shall not rely on a woman’s sway to solidify my reign. And I never once said I would wed you.” “In days past, I found our conversations pleasant, and your wit engaging. But I never imagined you harbored such grand ambition, to become my Princess Consort.” I watched them, a duet of self-serving condescension. My patience, however, had worn thin. I took a step back. “Your Grace, my presence at the Royal Selection was merely by royal decree. Every legitimate daughter of a three-star lord in King’s Landing must attend. As for relying on influence to bolster a kingdom, or any talk of you marrying me—let us dispense with such foolishness. It might cause your future Princess Consort undue distress.” “Should she misunderstand, and believe you imply her family is less powerful, how would Lady Seraphina bear the slight?” With that, I turned and departed. Lady Seraphina was naturally suspicious and petty. Her father, the Lord Chamberlain, held one of the least powerful offices among the King’s ministers. Compared to my father, the Duke of Ravenshield, her family’s standing was truly insignificant. Three days later, the royal edict naming Seraphina as Prince Edmund’s Princess Consort was proclaimed. Seraphina immediately arranged a garden party, inviting all the noblewomen of King’s Landing. Who dared refuse, given Prince Edmund’s favor? At the garden party, Seraphina was adorned in shimmering jewels, her hair bedecked with the ornaments Prince Edmund and the Queen had showered upon her. Not yet a Princess Consort, yet she carried herself with the full pomp and circumstance of one. I recalled how, in my last life, she had been admired by Prince Edmund for her understated elegance, her disdain for opulent jewels, praised for her ethereal grace. I wondered if, in this life, Prince Edmund would still remark on her unworldly purity, seeing her now. Seraphina, before all the guests, tightly grasped my hand. “My dear sister, when I wed, would you consider being my Maid of Honor? To accompany me into the royal chapel on my wedding day? With a few dear sisters by my side, I might feel less apprehensive.” Her face wore an expression of pleading, yet her eyes glinted with triumphant amusement. In her mind, she was the undisputed victor, and this was her moment to publicly humiliate me. “As the Princess Consort, who you choose for your Maid of Honor is your prerogative. Who in King’s Landing would dare refuse my future Princess Consort such a courtesy, Lady Eleanor? What say you?” The voice belonged to Prince Edmund, who had just entered. Even for a ladies’ garden party, Prince Edmund had hastened to lend his presence, a testament to his deep affection for her. All eyes were on me, awaiting my reply. If I assented, it would signify my submission to the Princess Consort’s authority. If I refused, I would openly defy Prince Edmund. Prince Edmund brimmed with confidence, and Seraphina radiated smugness. But they had forgotten: my father was the Duke of Ravenshield, master of formidable forces. Aside from the King and Queen, I bowed to no one. I gently, but firmly, disengaged my hand from Seraphina’s. “My apologies, I fear I may not be able to attend your wedding, Your Grace. My father has sent for me, desiring my return home. Our departure is set for the very day of your nuptials with Prince Edmund.” Seraphina stared at me, her eyes brimming with moisture. “Is my sister truly so angry with me, so upset? How could it be such a coincidence that the Duke of Ravenshield just happens to send for you now?” 4 My lady-in-waiting, sensing my cue, answered on my behalf. “My lord Duke’s messengers arrived last night. They bear tidings of a betrothal already arranged for my lady. My lady has been in King’s Landing for half a year now; it is high time she returned home to prepare her trousseau for her nuptials.” At these words, Prince Edmund’s face visibly darkened. “You are returning to the Northern Marches? Your father sent you to King’s Landing not to find a noble husband here, to wed within the capital?” “I know you are displeased that I chose Seraphina. But what if I promised you that, after our wedding, I would take you as a secondary consort?” Seraphina’s face turned ashen. Before she could speak, I interjected, a faint smile on my lips. “What jest is this, Your Grace? Was it not just the other day, in the Great Hall, that you declared to the Queen your desire for a singular bond with Lady Seraphina?” “Moreover, a legitimate daughter of the House of Blackwood would never stoop to being a secondary consort.” Prince Edmund gritted his teeth. “Lady Eleanor, must you always be the Princess Consort? Is this empty title truly so important to you?” I looked at him, genuinely bewildered. “Your Grace, I never expressed a desire to be your Princess Consort. I have simply been away from home for too long, and my parents yearn for my return. I have no kin in King’s Landing. Returning home is only proper. Does Your Grace believe it acceptable to deny someone the right to return to their family?” Prince Edmund’s face grew progressively darker. “What if I refuse? What if I insist on marrying you?” “Then Your Grace will surely be disappointed. Lady Eleanor and I are already betrothed. Does Your Grace intend to abduct my future wife?” I turned, and there, entering the estate, was Sir Kaelen Vance, the Knight Commander. He was clad in rugged travel leathers, his face still bearing the dust of the road, clearly having ridden a thousand miles to reach King’s Landing. He strode in, taking a stand by my side, silently shielding me. Prince Edmund glared at him. “Knight Commander, are you not sworn to the borderlands? How dare you enter King’s Landing without royal summons?” Kaelen merely smiled. “I come by the Duke of Ravenshield’s command, to deliver a vital war report to His Majesty, and to escort Lady Eleanor, my betrothed, back to the Northern Marches.” “His Majesty, I trust, will understand my youthful fervor, that I might seize this duty of delivering dispatches for the sake of escorting my future wife. Coupled with our recent, glorious victory, His Majesty surely will not hold it against me.” He then looked at me, his eyes holding no one else but me. “My Lady Eleanor, this garden party seems exceedingly dull. I know a place just outside the city where the peach blossoms are in full, exquisite bloom. I could take you there; it would be infinitely more beautiful than this confined garden.” I smiled, rising. I curtseyed to Prince Edmund and Seraphina. “I shall take my leave now. I fear I may be long departed by the day of your wedding, so allow me to offer my best wishes for a century of harmony.” With that, I walked towards Sir Kaelen and followed him out of the manor. Prince Edmund rushed after us. “Lady Eleanor, can being a mere Knight Commander’s wife truly compare to being my secondary consort?” “Should I ascend to the throne, I promise you the rank of the most favored Lady of Silverwood. How does that sound?” Kaelen vaulted onto his steed, extending a hand to me. “Do you still recall how to ride?” I smiled, reaching for his hand. “Fortuitously, I haven’t forgotten.” I swung myself onto the saddle, sharing his mount, and we galloped away towards the city gates, leaving Prince Edmund’s desperate words and his despair behind. Prince Edmund’s wedding was a grand affair. On the morning of the ceremony, my carriage was already prepared, ready to depart. Unexpectedly, our procession crossed paths with the bridal procession on the streets of King’s Landing. I had deliberately chosen a route their wedding party would avoid. Yet, Prince Edmund, for some reason, had chosen this very street. Clad in his ceremonial wedding robes, he stood before my carriage, blocking our path. “Eleanor, are you truly leaving?”

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My husband Alexander Lockridge—the city’s top financier—was drugged and slept with a college student. When he sobered, he called me, panicked: “Ali, I was set up. I paid her off—she’ll never contact us again.” I believed him. Six months later, an earthquake hit during his business trip. At the hospital, I found him outside a patient’s room. The doctor said Sophia Bennett was three months pregnant. She’d dug through rubble with bloodied hands to save Alex. Alex gripped my hand, pleading: “Her family died three months ago. She came to me for help. I was drunk—I never thought…” He added quickly: “She’ll never enter our home. Your place is secure.” Suddenly, Sophia rushed out, collapsing at my feet: “Please, let my baby live!” Alex looked at me desperately: “Ali, you’re always reasonable. The child is innocent—” I laughed coldly: “Alexander, choose: divorce or she leaves.” “I won’t divorce you!” His grip tightened. “But I must take responsibility.” Later, Sophia bore twins. The Lockridges celebrated. I slid off my wedding ring and dialed a number: “I accept your offer.” A voice chuckled: “Mrs. Lockridge, a pleasure doing business.” I stood at the door of the hospital room, my fingers clenching involuntarily. Through the half-open crack, I saw Mr. and Mrs. Lockridge each holding a baby, their faces beaming with undisguised joy. Even Alexander, usually so reserved and composed in public, was now gazing at the infant in his arms with a tenderness I’d never witnessed before, a doting smile playing on his lips. How ironic. They looked, in that moment, like a perfectly harmonious family. Alex looked up and saw me, his expression freezing. “Ali, you came back…” I didn’t respond. Mrs. Lockridge cast a cold, sidelong glance in my direction, her voice like shards of ice. “So you did decide to return? Have you had enough of your ‘peaceful’ retreat in the mountains these past six months?” “It’s good that you’re back,” Mr. Lockridge interjected, attempting to smooth things over, though his eyes never left the babies in his arms. “Perfect timing for the babies’ naming ceremony. As Mrs. Lockridge, you should certainly contribute.” Mrs. Lockridge’s expression softened slightly. “The children haven’t been given their official names yet. You and Alex should think of some. Don’t worry, as long as you behave, the position of Mrs. Lockridge will always be yours.” I looked at them, numb, and nodded. “Okay.” As the elder Lockridges left, Alex’s phone rang. He glanced at me, then stepped out to take the call. Only Sophia and I remained in the room. Her complexion was radiant, and even her hair seemed to gleam with meticulous care. Clearly, the Lockridge family had spared no expense on her these past six months. “Sister,” she whispered, her voice timid. “If I’ve done anything wrong, you can hit me, scold me, whatever you want. Just… please don’t argue with Mr. Lockridge anymore. You know he only has eyes for you. You’ve been gone so long, and he’s had your room cleaned every single day.” “Sophia,” I said, my voice cold and flat. “You don’t have to keep up this act. The money he gave you back then was enough to live lavishly for lifetimes. You could have disappeared, gone far away. But you came back, claiming you needed help, and that’s how these children came to be.” I leaned closer, my gaze unwavering. “Sophia, you know exactly what game you’re playing.” Caught off guard, her face flushed, then paled. Suddenly, she snatched one of the babies and thrust it into my arms. The warm, milky scent made my entire body stiffen. But the very next second, the baby slipped from my grasp, falling heavily to the floor with a heart-wrenching scream. Amidst the piercing wails, Alex burst in, shoving me aside with a violent push. I staggered backward, watching him tenderly scoop up the crying infant. He looked at me, his eyes filled with an unsettling blend of emotions. Though he said nothing, his gaze spoke volumes. Sophia, now dissolved in tears, whimpered, “Mr. Lockridge, I only wanted Madam to hold the baby, but she…” 2 Alex’s voice was chilling. “Ali, Sophia is being discharged tomorrow. Since you can’t tolerate the children, you should move to the Westwood Estate for now…” I bit down hard on my lower lip, tasting the metallic tang of blood before I finally released it. I hadn’t brought much luggage with me to the retreat anyway; now, it was even simpler. A single suitcase held everything. I sat in the empty, echoing house, from dusk until dawn. Perhaps it was for the best. At least I wouldn’t have to witness their picture-perfect family of four, basking in their fabricated happiness. Memories surged like a tide. Alex and I, childhood sweethearts, married for eight years. We were the city’s most admired power couple. That time, he’d been drugged by a business rival, and it led to a one-night stand with a university student. The moment he came to, he called me, his voice trembling. “Ali, I was set up! I’ve already paid her to keep quiet, she’ll never appear again!” I believed him. But it wasn’t long before this woman, Sophia, reappeared. Her parents had died unexpectedly, and she’d sought out Alex, who was drunk after a business dinner. This was the second time. The first was an accident, but what about the second? Then, Alex went on a business trip to a remote country overseas and was caught in an earthquake. It was Sophia, pregnant, who supposedly dug him out of the rubble with her bare hands. A life debt, compounded by the child in her belly—Alex could no longer shake her off. He knelt before me, weeping uncontrollably. That’s when I laid down my terms. “Alexander, either we divorce.” “Or she leaves.” “I won’t divorce you!” Alex cried, his eyes red-rimmed as he seized my hands. “But I have to take responsibility for her…” He refused to divorce me, yet he also refused to let Sophia go. So, I left, retreating to St. Jude’s for a quiet period of reflection. I stayed there until Sophia gave birth, and Mr. and Mrs. Lockridge insisted I return. I pulled out my phone in the darkness, and sent the message I should have sent long ago. “Let’s divorce.” Less than ten minutes later, I heard urgent footsteps and the sound of the front door being thrown open. Alex rushed in, sweat beading on his forehead. “Ali! I won’t agree to a divorce!” I sat calmly on the sofa, letting out a soft sigh. “Just… let it go, Alex. I’m tired.” “I told you she would never come between us!” His voice trembled with desperation. Just then, his phone rang. Sophia’s tearful voice carried faintly from the receiver. “Mr. Lockridge! The baby fell and was scared, and now has a fever! The doctor says they might have to go to the ICU!” Alex’s expression shifted instantly. He looked at me, then at his phone, before finally uttering with great difficulty, “Ali, I… I have to go see them…” I watched his hurried retreat, his back disappearing in a frantic blur, and then I laughed, a bitter, hollow sound. This was my marriage, wasn’t it? Even divorce had to take a backseat to another woman and her children. 3 I curled my lips into a self-deprecating smile. “Go on, then. Your child needs you.” He left in a rush, the faint breeze stirred by his departure brushing past my cheek, as if he had never been there at all. I sat alone in the darkness, tears silently tracing paths down my face. I knew. He might never marry Sophia, but he would be called away, again and again. How much longer could I endure this life if I didn’t divorce him? An entire lifetime? A familiar, gnawing pain twisted in my stomach. I opened my phone. Sophia’s social media feed showed Alex standing vigil by the incubator, day and night. His face in the photos was gaunt, etched with a tension I had never seen directed at me. I contacted a lawyer to draft the divorce papers, then went to my company to process my resignation. The HR manager looked surprised. “Madam, does Mr. Lockridge know you’re leaving?” I offered a faint smile. “He’s a little preoccupied right now.” As I saw the flicker of pity in the HR manager’s eyes, I knew exactly what she was thinking. I returned to the Westwood Estate, a villa we had only occasionally used after our marriage. As I packed my belongings, I stumbled upon a yellowed note. “Ali, I don’t know when you’ll read this. By then, I imagine we’ll have several children. I love you so much. No matter what happens, promise you’ll never leave me.” Tears splattered onto the paper, and a sudden, excruciating pain shot through my stomach. My vision blurred, and I collapsed heavily onto the floor. When I woke again, my phone was ringing, its sound an irritating buzz. “Alice Reed! What exactly do you want?!” Alex’s furious roar erupted from the receiver. He rarely used my full name like that. “Sophia is already trying her best to be careful! How many times have I told you, she won’t affect your position! Why are you sending those malicious texts? Why are you cursing my children?!” I gave a bitter laugh. He didn’t even ask if I did it. He just condemned me. “Are you finished?” I asked calmly. He paused for a few seconds. “The baby’s naming ceremony is next Sunday. You must be there. Please, stop throwing tantrums, okay?” “Okay.” I hung up, gazing out at the night sky. On the day of the naming ceremony, I arrived bare-faced. People cast sympathetic glances my way, while in the center of the ballroom, Sophia, in a crimson gown, leaned against Alex, looking every inch the true hostess. Mrs. Lockridge urged me, “Go hold the baby.” Alex handed me one of the infants, whispering, “Ali, I won’t hold the texts against you. After today, I’ll send Sophia abroad, and both children will be registered under your name. Since you can’t have children, isn’t this a win-win?” His voice was full of pleading, and my heart clenched painfully. Years ago, during an avalanche, I was injured saving him, my uterus severely damaged. He had once defied his parents for me, vowing never to have children of his own. Now, everything had changed. Suddenly, the child in my arms began to cough violently, frothing at the mouth. “What’s wrong with the baby?!” Someone shrieked. 4 Sophia suddenly threw herself forward, her voice piercingly sharp. “Madam! If you want to kill someone, kill me, but don’t harm the baby!” Slap! Mr. Lockridge’s hand came down hard across my face. My vision swam, and I stumbled backward, crashing to the floor. My cheek stung with a fiery pain, and I tasted blood in my mouth. Alex instinctively reached out to steady me. But then the baby in his arms suddenly let out a strangled cry and vomited a large mouthful of blood. The scene instantly descended into chaos. “Mr. Lockridge!” Sophia shrieked, a desperate, guttural sound, as she lunged forward, physically forcing herself between us. “My baby is dying! Please, save our child!” Alex’s hand trembled violently. I watched the tenderness in his eyes drain away, little by little, until he slowly released my hand and turned, scooping up the bleeding child. The hospital corridor was chillingly cold. I stood there like a ghost, the divorce papers I’d prepared slipping from my pocket and fluttering to the floor. Mrs. Lockridge, sharp-eyed, bent down, picked them up, and roughly tossed them back at me. Her perfectly preserved face was twisted with disgust. “How has the Lockridge family ever wronged you all these years, hm? Alex defied us for you, and we tolerated it! Now you’re even harming the children?” Her voice rose, shrill and accusing. “Since you want a divorce so badly, then just get it! Stop dragging your feet and clinging on!” I silently picked up the scattered papers from the floor. Alex emerged from the ICU, his eyes bloodshot. “The baby is stable.” He looked at me, his gaze terrifyingly unfamiliar. “Ali, this time, you’ve truly gone too far.” My hand trembling, I held out the divorce papers. “We… we’re done.” His pupils constricted sharply. “Are you sure?” “I’m tired,” I choked back the tears. “I don’t know what else I might do…” “Fine! Very well!” He snatched the agreement, signed it furiously, and slammed the pen onto the floor. “As you wish!” Back in what used to be our marital home, Martha, our housekeeper, rushed to meet me, her face distraught. “Madam! How…?” She saw my swollen face and soaked clothes, and her voice caught in her throat. I looked around. My piano was gone, our wedding photos had disappeared, and even the cherished decorative pieces I’d collected were nowhere to be seen. Martha wrung her hands, stammering, “Miss Sophia… she often bumped into things while she was pregnant, so Mr. Lockridge had…” The door suddenly opened. Alex walked in, Sophia by his side. Sophia feigned surprise. “Madam, what are you doing here?” Her tone suggested she was the lady of the house. “Where are my things?” My voice trembled as I looked at Alex. Alex scoffed, pulling Sophia closer to his side. “You’re getting a divorce. Why do you care about these things anymore?” Sophia reached out, pretending to take my hand. “Madam, Mr. Lockridge was just worried I might get hurt while I was pregnant…” “Don’t touch me!” I snapped, violently shaking her hand away. She gasped, stumbling backward. Alex quickly caught her, his voice tight with concern. “Are you alright?” I watched their intimate exchange, then turned abruptly and walked away. Even though I heard Alex calling my name behind me, I didn’t look back. I didn’t want them to see me, tear-streaked and humiliated. Outside, the rain poured down in sheets. I walked for what felt like an eternity, until I was cornered by a few thugs in a dark alley. “Mrs. Lockridge, is it? Someone paid us to teach you a lesson.” A scarred man leered, advancing on me. “The finance titan’s wife, you’re certainly attractive. A bit small-chested, but that face is young enough!” I instinctively dialed Alex’s number. From the other end, I heard his gentle cooing voice. “Sophia, if your head hurts, just go to sleep.” “Alex! Help…” “I don’t want to talk to you right now.” The call was mercilessly cut off. When I tried again, his phone was off. Icy rainwater mixed with tears, flowing into the corners of my mouth, salty and bitter. “No one’s coming here. Be a good girl and have some fun with us!” The thug’s grubby hand reached for my collar, his rough fingers scraping across my collarbone. I squeezed my eyes shut, my nails digging deep into my palms.

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Our family was so poor, we often went without proper meals. Yet, a random lottery ticket I bought struck for five million dollars. My brother, eyes blazing with a wild fury, lunged, snatching the ticket, intent on tearing it. My father, who had always doted on me, raised a kitchen knife, its blade pressed cold against my throat. “If you don’t shred that worthless paper, I’ll hack off your hand right here and now.” Even my mother, confined to her sickbed, dependent on funds for her very life, struggled to rise, her frail body trembling as she cried out in terror, “My daughter, you cannot claim that prize!” To stop me, my family bound me in the basement, then released a ravenous wolf-hybrid into the darkness. Ultimately, I was torn apart and killed by that savage beast. Then, I opened my eyes. I was back on the very day I won the lottery. 1 My brother, holding two plain buns, offered them to me with a wide smile. “Starlight, once our family has coin, I’ll take you to the best steakhouse for your favorite prime rib.” He paused, his gaze bright. “By the way, did your lottery ticket win anything?” Hearing my brother’s eager voice, I jolted back to reality. The familiar lottery ticket, clutched in my hand, confirmed it. I had been reborn. Back to the day I won the lottery. In my past life. I occasionally bought lottery tickets, and my entire family hoped one day I would win big, and we could finally know comfort. Our family was destitute. I had already dropped out of school because we couldn’t afford the tuition. My brother was on the verge of marriage, but if we didn’t scrape together enough for a down payment soon, his sweetheart would abandon him. My father, during his security guard shift, accidentally damaged a wealthy client’s luxury coach, and now owed a colossal sum in damages. And my mother was suffering from kidney failure, waiting for money to extend her fragile life. Basic sustenance was a daily struggle. Every meal, we counted each grain of rice before it went into the pot. Yesterday, I had dreamt of a set of lottery numbers. The moment I woke, I rushed to the corner store to buy a ticket. After the drawing, I double-checked, then triple-checked, confirming I had won the grand prize. Thrilled, I raced to the kitchen, where my brother was boiling water for plain gruel, and blurted out the news. He took the ticket, his eyes fixing on the numbers. His smile froze, replaced by an expression of pure terror. Without a word, he lunged to tear the ticket. I snatched it back swiftly, urgently pleading: “Brother, once we claim the prize, our family will be rich! You can buy a house and wed your sweetheart, Mother will have money for her treatments, and I can finally return to the academy! This is a lifeline the heavens have sent us!” But my brother seemed deaf to my words, wrestling with me, his eyes wild. In the struggle, desperate, I bit his hand. He cried out in pain, staggering back a few steps. His eyes were bloodshot, his face contorted, as he roared at me, his voice raw. “Starlight, you cannot claim that prize! Tear it up now!” His terrifying demeanor left me frozen, trembling. Just then, my father returned. He saw me cornered by my brother, and without a word, slapped the back of my brother’s head. “You scoundrel! How dare you bully your sister!” My brother’s hand trembled as he pointed at me, his voice a desperate, desperate whisper. “She dreamt of a set of numbers, and the ticket she bought won five million!” My father’s face, etched with fury moments before, instantly contorted into pure terror. His eyes widened. Like a madman, he lunged into the kitchen, seized a meat cleaver, and charged at me. “Shred that winning ticket now, or I’ll hack you to pieces!” The cleaver was poised to fall. Thankfully, Mother rushed in, shielding me. “Have you gone mad? To threaten our precious daughter with a cleaver!” Father scoffed, a chilling sound. “Starlight won the lottery.” “So what? Starlight has always been lucky, often winning five or ten dollars.” “It’s the grand prize. Five million.” Mother, who had been shielding me moments before, turned deathly pale, as if she had seen a specter. She shoved me from her embrace, shaking her head frantically. “No, you cannot.” It was then I realized my entire family wished to prevent me from claiming the prize. I frantically waved my hands, trying to explain. “Father, Mother, this money isn’t just mine! With this, Brother can start his life, Father won’t have to hide from creditors, Mother can receive her treatments and surgery, and I can return to the academy! This is a lifeline from the heavens!” But my parents ignored me, their brows furrowed as they exchanged panicked glances. Then, Father spoke. “We cannot let this girl leave the house again.” Mother’s face darkened. “I have a solution. We’ll lock her in the cellar, with the wolf-hybrid.” I stood stunned, my limbs numb, unable to believe what I had just heard. I could not fathom why they had transformed so utterly upon learning of my five-million-dollar win. We were desperate for money; this heaven-sent fortune should have been the greatest joy. Why had it turned into this nightmare? Before I could grasp it, my parents dragged me towards the cellar. In a panic, I twisted, trying to escape, but my brother seized me. I wept, pleading for them to release me, even offering to give them the ticket, to let them claim the prize themselves, if they did not trust me. Yet, they were deaf to my pleas, forcing me into the dark, foul-smelling cellar. They denied me food and water, then released a starving wolf-hybrid into the darkness. My entire family knew I had been bitten by a stray dog as a child and was terrified of them. The moment I saw the wolf-hybrid, I was so petrified I nearly collapsed. I hammered frantically on the door, screaming, begging them to let me out. But no matter how I cried, there was no response. The wolf-hybrid lunged at me, tearing a chunk of flesh from my thigh. The metallic tang of blood filled my nostrils, and I succumbed to the pain, falling into unconsciousness. After a night of terror, my parents and brother came to the cellar to see me. My mother smiled, asking, “Starlight, are you hungry? Mother has steamed some buns for you.” I scoffed, unable to comprehend how she could act as if nothing had happened. I screamed, mad with grief and rage, “Why? Why are you doing this to me?” The smile vanished from my mother’s face, replaced by a cold, impassive expression. My father’s face darkened too, his eyes filled with disgust. Then, he kicked me hard in the chest. “Ungrateful mongrel.” The pain made it difficult to even breathe. My mother’s eyes swirled with a chilling malice, a sinister smile twisting her lips. “Since Starlight doesn’t wish for buns, let’s bring in a few more wolf-hybrids to play with her.” “These beasts are specially trained; they know how to ‘entertain’ disobedient brats.” Then, they released several more wolf-hybrids, trapping me. They tore at me savagely. Both my arms were ripped from my body. In less than a day, I drew my last breath amidst unimaginable agony. To my dying moment, I did not understand why they all wished to kill me upon learning of my five-million-dollar win. The terror of my past life surged, and I gripped the lottery ticket tightly, taking a deep, shuddering breath. This time, I vowed, I would uncover the truth. This time, I did not tell my brother about the win. I thought, as long as my brother didn’t know about the five million, nothing bad would happen. But to my surprise, my brother smiled, asking, “Starlight, I saw you bought a lottery ticket yesterday. Did it win?” My heart clenched. I forced a smile. “No, of course not. It’s not that easy to win.” “You’re always so careless. Give the ticket to your brother, I’ll check it for you. Maybe you misread it.” “No need, really. I just checked it number by number. It really didn’t win. Don’t you believe me, brother?” “No, it’s just, what if it did win, and you made a mistake? Then our family would lose a huge opportunity, wouldn’t we? There’s no harm in me taking another look.” I deliberately put the ticket into my pocket. “Brother, you just don’t believe me. I’m not going to show you.” My brother, thinking I was merely pouting playfully, laughed and patted my head, then handed me the bun. “Alright, if you don’t want to show me, don’t. Are you hungry? Eat up.” I took the bun and walked out, casually saying, “The weather’s nice, I’m going out for some fresh air.” I decided to leave the house first, to calm my panicked heart. But as I turned into the alleyway, my heart suddenly constricted, and the lottery ticket in my pocket was gone! My blood ran cold. I immediately spun around and sprinted back. As I caught sight of our front door in the distance, I saw my brother, his face ashen, frozen in the doorway. The lottery ticket, which should have been in my pocket, was now in his hand. He raised his hand, poised to tear it. I charged forward, snatched the ticket, and bolted. I heard him roar behind me, “Starlight, you cannot claim that prize!” Until my death in my last life, I never understood why my brother, who had doted on me since childhood, would instantly transform into a stranger, filled with such malice, upon learning of my great win. His eyes held a malevolence I had never witnessed. My brother chased me desperately. I was no match for his stamina, and he soon caught up. I trembled, screaming for help. “Help! My brother is trying to kill me!” The alley was filled with familiar neighbors. Hearing my cries, they emerged to watch the commotion. My brother clearly hadn’t expected me to react this way. Seeing no escape, I turned and knelt before him, weeping as I asked, “Brother, we were about to live a good life. Why would you try to tear up that ticket?” My brother gritted his teeth, muttering lowly, “Shut up, you wretched brat!” He tried to drag me away, but just then, onlookers from the neighborhood swiftly approached. Old Man Miller from next door forcefully pulled him away from me. “Why are you hitting your own sister?” Other neighbors also began to murmur, “We heard you shouting about a lottery win. That’s wonderful news! Why resort to violence?” “Even if she’s your own sister, you can’t hit her! Assault is against the law! If you try that again, we’ll call the Constabulary!” My brother’s breathing was ragged, veins bulging in his neck, as he glared at me, his eyes full of fury. But with everyone watching, he could do nothing. Suddenly, he smiled, looking behind me. I turned, confused, and saw Father approaching. Father had seen my brother and me surrounded by the crowd from afar, his brow furrowed. No doubt, he knew something was amiss. As Father drew closer, my body tensed, and my nails dug deep into my palms. The neighbors began to complain to Father, telling him my brother had laid hands on me. Father, immediately enraged, raised his hand to strike my brother’s face. Just as the blow was about to land, my brother yelled, “Starlight won a five-million-dollar grand prize!” “That’s not true! Brother is mistaken!” My eyes welled up, my voice trembling with urgency. “It’s the absolute truth! I even took a picture of the ticket!” My brother’s voice was agitated as he eagerly shoved his scrying device in front of Father. Father’s gaze fell upon the screen, his eyes trembling slightly, then he stared fixedly at the image, frozen in place. I nervously called out, “Father…” When he looked at me again, Father’s eyes were bloodshot. He raised his hand and slapped me hard across the face. “You beast! Your brother told you to tear up the ticket, why did you not obey!” My heart shattered, yet I gritted my teeth and argued, “Our family desperately needs the money! Mother’s illness needs treatment, you need money to repay your debts, brother wants to marry, and I want to return to the academy!” “You ungrateful, worthless wretch! Still dare to talk back to me!” Father charged at me, pressing my head violently against the wall with one hand, while the other reached for my pocket. Just then, Mother rushed over, shoving Father away and shielding me. “What are you doing? Starlight’s forehead is bleeding!” Mother roared at Father. But Father wasn’t angry, merely sneering, “You care for her, but this ungrateful wretch doesn’t deserve to be our child.” At Father’s words, the neighbors were shocked. Everyone knew that Father doted on me, his daughter, more than anyone else – holding me in his mouth for fear of melting, in his palm for fear of dropping. No one could believe he would speak of his own daughter in such a way. Mother, clutching her chest in anger, demanded, “What exactly happened?” Brother handed her his scrying device. I frantically blocked Mother, looking at her with pleading eyes. “Mother, don’t look. Don’t believe Father and Brother.” I knew that if Mother saw the device, and learned of my grand prize, she would immediately disown me. Mother pulled me into her embrace, gently soothing me. “Don’t worry, it must be some misunderstanding from your father and brother, these two brutes. Once Mother clarifies it, everything will be fine.” I shook my head desperately. “No, Mother, don’t believe them. If you believe what they say, you won’t love me anymore.” “Starlight, rest assured, no matter what happens, I will stand by you. Mother is the one who loves you most in this world.” She looked at me gently, trying to reassure me. Just then, Father, impatient, shouted at Mother, “She won a five-million-dollar grand prize! The ticket is in her pocket!” Hearing Father’s words, Mother’s face suddenly changed. Her once gentle features twisted into a grimace, a chilling malice flickering in her eyes, making me tremble uncontrollably. Her face pale, she forced a stiff, bitter smile as she looked at me. Unlike Father and Brother’s agitation, Mother’s unnatural calm sent shivers down my spine, chilling me to the bone. Her voice was cold. “This is good news, Starlight. Come, let’s go home and celebrate.” But there was no joy in her words, no smile on her face, and the hand she extended towards me trembled slightly. She was clearly struggling, desperately suppressing her emotions. “No, I don’t want to go home.” I hastily stood, stumbling backward into the crowd. Mother’s brow furrowed into a dark cloud, her eyes filled with malice and cruelty, as she coldly demanded, “Starlight, what are you doing? It’s almost dark, where are you going if not home?” Seeing Father and Mother about to grab me, I quickly seized a neighbor, begging, my voice choked with tears. “Please, save me! I cannot go back with them, they will kill me!” The neighbors exchanged bewildered glances, their faces full of confusion. Everyone knew that our family had always doted on me, their daughter. Even if I had made a mistake, parental discipline was understandable, and outsiders truly could not interfere. Just as everyone hesitated, Old Grannie Liu stepped forward. “This child seems to have something troubling her. Don’t force her.” “Yes, Starlight is usually such a sensible child. Speak calmly, don’t use force. Look how terrified the child is.” But Father and Mother seemed blinded by rage, completely deaf to any dissuasion. Their faces contorted, they advanced on me. “Starlight, are you ill? Don’t speak nonsense here!” “Hurry and come home with us! Don’t shame us here!” Before they finished speaking, Father and Brother forcibly grabbed me. Seeing this, Old Grannie Liu quickly stepped in front of me. “Don’t be so rough with the child! What if you terrify her beyond repair!” “I’m disciplining my own daughter, it’s none of your business!” Father roared at Old Grannie Liu, his eyes red. Old Grannie Liu, being elderly, could not stop my young and strong brother. I felt my wrist gripped tightly, and I was forcibly dragged away, the rough ground scraping my knees, a burning pain. Even the kindest neighbors would not rashly contend with my parents for me. Just then, a pair of hands blocked my brother’s path. “Who gave you the right to drag a young girl like this!” Hearing the sharp rebuke, my brother released his grip. It was the Constabulary. A neighbor had summoned them. Seeing the officers, Mother quickly explained, “Officers, this is our daughter. It’s getting late, and she refuses to come home. We were worried for her safety, so we were trying to bring her back.” The officers looked at me. I immediately retorted loudly, “That’s not true! I won a grand prize, and they want to take me back and imprison me!” The three figures behind me froze, their expressions indescribably eerie. “If you don’t believe me, you can ask the neighbors how abnormally my family reacted upon learning of my win.” The officers questioned the crowd, and the neighbors corroborated, confirming my family’s strange behavior. Upon receiving confirmation, an officer, his expression stern, questioned my family. “Why are you preventing the child from claiming her prize? Are you worried she’ll keep the winnings for herself? But the child has already said the money is for the whole family.” My parents, hearing this, scoffed disdainfully. “We don’t care about any winnings, we just want to take our daughter home.” “Unlawful detention of another’s person is a crime,” the officer’s voice grew increasingly serious. Yet, they maintained an air of indifference. My heart racing, I tugged at the officer’s sleeve. “I just want to know why they would rather break the law than let me claim the prize, why they insist on locking me up?” Under the officers’ stern questioning, Father reluctantly handed over his scrying device, his movements full of resistance. When I saw the content on the screen, I finally understood why they wouldn’t let me claim the prize.

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1 The day Julian Blackwood rode into Veridia marked the day of my funeral. At the mouth of Everglen Lane, our two processions, one triumphant, one somber, collided. From afar, I saw the young man I had waited five years for. He had finally returned. He had returned alive. In that moment, I almost forgot I was merely a spirit, an ethereal whisper of my former self. I yearned to rush through the mourning crowd and reach him. Behind me, I heard the frantic pleas of our family’s butler. “Your Grace, we’ve made a terrible mistake! We didn’t know His Majesty would pass this way today!” Phoenix Boulevard led directly to the Royal Citadel, yet Julian’s retinue had inexplicably turned into Everglen Lane. “Does His Majesty need to specially notify you which road he chooses to travel?” “N-no, I wouldn’t dare…” Thwack! A heavy blow struck someone’s spine. “To obstruct His Majesty’s sacred procession with a coffin! You deserve to die!” I rushed back, only to see several City Guards swinging their sword scabbards, lashing out at my family. My father, Lord Shaw, was forced to his knees in front, his eyes glazed over, devoid of all light. The scabbards struck him repeatedly, but his expression remained unchanged. It was as if only an empty shell remained. He had been like this so often since I passed. “Father!” I rushed to embrace him, attempting to shield him from their brutality, but the scabbards passed through my spectral form again and again. “What’s happening here?” The procession ahead paused. Julian, from his mount, suddenly looked our way. 2 The people blocking his path dropped to their knees in unison, and a coffin was swiftly exposed to their view. My family held their breath, their heads bowed even lower, terrified that Julian might recognize my father. Five years ago, the Blackwood family’s Queen Consort, Julian’s mother, was implicated in a plot of treason. Julian, as her son, was stripped of his titles by imperial decree and exiled, reduced to a commoner. It was at his lowest point that I betrayed our engagement, turning instead to marry his rival, Lord Frederick. I still remember it vividly. He knelt at the gates of Shaw Manor, and my father and brothers “rewarded” him with a brutal beating. Yet, he refused to give up, dragging his bloody wounds, rejecting any medical aid, insisting I give him an answer. That day, snow fell heavily, and the wind howled. His knees, already injured from saving me once, were battered. Our family physician had warned that if he continued to kneel, he might lose the use of his legs entirely. I picked up a basin of icy water and poured it over his head. “This,” I said, my voice cutting through the wind, “is my answer.” He looked up at me, his eyes like two dark, bottomless abysses. “Fine. I understand.” “Evelyn Shaw, I hope you never regret this!” He rose shakily, his back staggering, nearly falling several times. My nails dug into my palms, but I felt no pain. “Good! I’ll wait for you! I’ll wait for you to return and exact your revenge! Just don’t you dare die out there!” Those were the last words I spoke to him. Almost instantly, his stumbling figure straightened, like a resilient fir tree in the snow. He turned his cold gaze back, his voice slicing through the air: “This day’s humiliation will be repaid! I await the day you kneel and beg me!” 3 Everyone knew the story. Now, he had returned… Everyone said Julian’s first target upon entering the capital would be the Shaw family. He sat high on his horse, looking down on the ants before him with the disdain of a king. My family dared not even breathe, until his gaze settled on my father for one, two… long seconds. My heart felt as if it were gripped by an unseen hand. I feared he would recognize Father and condemn him on the spot. Just then, the curtain of his royal carriage swayed, and a delicate hand emerged. “Julian, why the delay?” A woman’s voice, like a nightingale’s song, drifted out. My thoughts momentarily blurred, and I saw Julian turn, a flicker of tenderness gracing his stern face. “Are you tired, my dear? We’ll be at the Royal Palace soon, just a little longer.” That warmth, that tenderness, he had finally given it to someone else. I instinctively pressed a hand to my chest. Here, it seemed, it no longer hurt. “The common folk have suffered enough. Don’t make it harder for them.” Julian spoke with an air of magnanimity, then raised a hand, and his procession moved forward towards the Royal Palace. The Shaw family’s servants breathed a collective sigh of relief, grateful he hadn’t recognized my father. But in the end, my coffin still couldn’t be transported for burial. At the city gates, the City Guard once again blocked us. Their reason: fear that the Emperor’s enemies might use the opportunity to flee the city. When we returned to Shaw Manor, the white funeral banners had been torn down, the mourning hall desecrated. A commanding officer warned us, his voice laced with sneering amusement: “With the new Emperor’s ascension, all funeral observances are suspended. Of course, if you wish to bury her hastily, right here on your grounds, no one will stop you.” The eldest daughter of the Grand Chancellor’s House, once Lady Frederick—how could she be buried like a pauper? This was an insult! Even the servants understood that someone was deliberately targeting the Shaw family, targeting me. But Father seemed oblivious. He merely patted my coffin, trying to soothe me. “Evelyn, don’t be afraid. Father is here. No one can humiliate you!” The City Guard captain scoffed dismissively and left. I leaned against my father’s shoulder, a ghost weeping silently. “I’m sorry, Father. I’ve been an unfilial daughter…” 4 I still stole into the Royal Palace, seeking the man I had waited five years for. The Imperial City glowed with a thousand lights. My spirit passed unhindered through the Royal Guards, over towering palace gates, until I found the one I longed to see. In The Radiant Hall, Julian stood tall and elegant, gazing at the moon through the window. A wind chime by the window swayed, its clear, delicate sound ringing through the air. “He still kept that wind chime…” My lips curved into an unconscious smile. “That wind chime is truly beautiful.” A woman in palace attire slowly approached. I recognized the voice; she was the woman Julian had brought back with him. Her name was Sylvie, and she had been Julian’s sole companion these past five years. “You like it?” Julian turned, a gentle smile on his face. Sylvie nodded. Julian casually plucked the wind chime from its hook and offered it to her. The woman looked overwhelmed with delight. “Are you sure?” Julian’s smile was tender. “It’s just a trinket.” My heart clenched violently, the pain so sharp it made my very soul tremble. That day, returning from the Royal Palace, I felt my spirit grow significantly fainter, as if it truly was on the verge of dissipating. I remembered those final days, when the pain had become unbearable. Father had stopped my life-sustaining herbal concoctions, holding my hand and saying, “Evelyn, if it hurts too much, just sleep. Once you’re asleep, it won’t hurt anymore.” That day, Father smiled at me more gently than he ever had before. But a burning liquid fell on my hand—his tears. No father willingly sends his own daughter on her way. That day, I watched as all his hair turned white… I think I had an obsession with Julian. I held on for five years, just to see him win. I just wanted to see him one last time. In a pain that seeped into my very bones, I held on for a long time, but in the end, I couldn’t live to see him. But now, I had seen him, and I should be content. For my last moments, I only wanted to stay with my father. 5 Julian’s official coronation as Emperor took place on his third day in Veridia, sparking three days of national celebration. “Just three more days, just three more days…” Father stroked my coffin with a look of profound relief, as if the end of his ordeal was finally in sight. He likely believed that in three days, I would finally be laid to rest. But Shaw Manor’s supply of ice was gone. In the scorching summer heat, Father couldn’t bear the thought of my body decaying in the house. Our butler reported that he had searched the entire city, but no one was willing to sell a single block of ice to the Shaw family. Driven by desperation, Father rallied his spirits and went to seek out his most accomplished student, Sir Arthur, now a high-ranking minister. Sir Arthur had come from humble beginnings, unable even to afford schooling in his youth. He had often secretly eavesdropped on lessons from outside the academy, getting caught and beaten several times. Father had happened upon him once, saving him from a beating, and had supported him on his path to success ever since. It was the first time Father had ever had to ask a favor of a student. Sir Arthur ordered all the ice from his icehouse to be brought out. A rare look of satisfaction touched Father’s face, but the next second, Sir Arthur raised a hand, and his attendants pushed all the ice into a pond, leaving not a single block. Sir Arthur then knelt, bowing deeply. His posture was as firm and unyielding as it had been when Father first helped him. Father’s parched lips tightened, but he didn’t utter a single word of reproach. As he turned to leave, his figure seemed to stoop a little more. “Master!” Sir Arthur scrambled forward a few steps on his knees, his eyes red-rimmed. Father looked back and smiled faintly, waving a hand. “Serve the realm well. Don’t forget your aspiration to speak for the people.” Sir Arthur bowed again. Returning home, Father retrieved his most treasured chest. These past few years, spent establishing connections and building influence, almost all of our family’s valuables had been given away. Only a few precious calligraphies and paintings remained, which Father had always been reluctant to part with. Father took out all the artworks and went to his old rival, Lord Griffith, the Chancellor of the Grand Secretariat. “One painting, one day of ice. Pick whatever you like.” But the Chancellor only chose one painting. For the first time, Father lost his composure before his rival. “That ‘Galloping Horses’ painting, and the ‘Cold Cicada’ painting—haven’t you always wanted them?” Lord Griffith watched him silently. Father finally sighed in defeat, took his ice, and left. Lord Griffith stood on the veranda, his voice carrying after him: “What cannot be kept will not be kept, old Shaw. The living are more important!” Father paused, a myriad of emotions swirling within him. “My family lived honorably and will die gloriously. Why should we be forced to bury her in secret, like a common criminal?” Lord Griffith cursed under his breath, “Old scholar,” but in the end, could only shake his head helplessly. “Father, I’m so sorry…” I watched my father’s back, bent under the weight of his troubles, my eyes reddening, but not a single tear could fall. When Father returned with a cart of ice, two more carts of ice arrived. The butler from Lord Griffith’s estate bowed deeply to Father, then turned and left. Father smiled, his eyes red-rimmed with emotion. Many had benefited from the Shaw family’s kindness, but in the end, only this old rival had been willing to offer aid when the Shaw family was broken and ruined. 6 On the second day of his reign, Julian Blackwood hosted a grand Royal Banquet, specifically decreeing that all members of the royal family must attend, especially Lord and Lady Frederick. Few knew of my passing. Even within the royal family, some still believed I was Lady Frederick, eager to witness my downfall. I worried for Julian’s safety and entered the palace once more. I watched as Julian and Sylvie sat side-by-side at the head table, their imperial robes magnificent and perfectly matched. This scene, I had envisioned countless times over the past five years. Yet, in the end, it wasn’t me who sat beside him. Lord Frederick arrived late, with his new Lady Frederick in tow. Julian’s gaze immediately fixated on him. “My dear cousin, long time no see.” Julian’s voice was as gentle as a spring breeze, yet almost everyone present understood he was about to settle old scores with Lord Frederick, especially the infamous betrayal of his engagement. Cold sweat trickled down Lord Frederick’s forehead. He hastily bowed. “I wouldn’t dare presume to trouble Your Majesty with my trivial affairs.” Julian’s gaze deliberately fell on the new Lady Frederick. “My cousin’s luck with women is truly enviable. Another new face, I see?” This time, Lord Frederick nearly collapsed to his knees. A man’s honor, especially a betrayal of engagement—what man could swallow such an insult? Lord Frederick frantically wiped a hand across his sweaty brow. “Your Majesty jests. Truth be told, I was manipulated by Evelyn Shaw into marrying her. Thankfully, Your Majesty conquered Veridia, and the Shaw family lost their influence. Only then could I escape their control. That vile woman, she deliberately sought to ruin our brotherly bond. She deserves a thousand cuts, to be torn limb from limb…” CRACK! The sharp sound of a shattered wine glass made Lord Frederick choke, and the entire palace fell silent, so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Julian nonchalantly tossed the broken goblet from his hand, his expression still as mild as a spring breeze. “This goblet is truly fragile, crumbling at a mere touch. Bring me silver chalices instead.” Lord Frederick involuntarily shivered. I, meanwhile, felt a flicker of relief as I watched Julian take up the silver chalice. But as Lord Frederick and his new Lady Frederick came to offer a toast, I watched Lord Frederick’s every move, terrified he might try to tamper with the wine, just as he had five years ago. Thankfully, this time, without the support of the old regime, he didn’t dare act recklessly.

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When news of his beloved’s death came, my husband, Lord Gareth, who was celebrating my birthday with me, threw himself into the lake, abandoning everything. It was then I realized he had never given up on Seraphina Hayes. Reborn to my coming-of-age, he didn’t come to propose to me. Instead, he arrived with a grand procession, banners unfurling for miles, to marry his beloved. I watched their lavish celebrations last for ten days and ten nights, then turned and walked away. From then on, we chose different lives. Ten years later, I accompanied my husband, King Rhys, on an envoy mission to the Verdant Kingdom. At the King’s reception banquet, I reunited with Asher Vance. By then, he had inherited his title, a pillar of the King’s court, and casually draped an arm around Seraphina’s waist as they strolled in. Seeing me burst into the banquet, searching, he frowned. “Ten years, and you still haven’t given up on me? Even if you offered to be my personal maid, I wouldn’t be swayed.” I ignored him, my gaze cutting past him as I marched directly to the screen and pulled my son, who was secretly drinking wine, into view. His eyes suddenly blazed, and he questioned me, his voice trembling with disbelief. “How could you marry? Didn’t you swear you’d wait for me your entire life?!” 1 I thought I would never meet Asher Vance again in this life. But fate, it seemed, had other plans. At the state banquet hosted by the King of the Verdant Kingdom, I saw the effortlessly charming Asher Vance, and beside him, the sweetly smiling Seraphina Hayes. He held Seraphina’s waist without a care for appearances, his gaze constantly fixed on her face. Guests around them beamed, offering compliments. “Lord Vance and his lady have been married for years, and still, such devotion!” “Lady Vance is truly blessed. Lord Vance is here today by royal decree to receive the envoy from the Northern Steppe Empire and their monarch. He’s sure to rise even higher!” Asher smiled tenderly, looking dotingly at Seraphina. “To have married her is my true fortune. Now that my dear Seraphina carries my child, I hope you’ll all grace our first birthday celebration with your presence.” Someone in the crowd asked, curious, “Lord Vance, you’ve been married ten years, why only now a child?” That was a question I also wanted answered. In my previous life, Asher had loved Seraphina his entire life, even willing to follow her to the grave. Reborn, he had defied the pressure from the Vance family, overcoming all obstacles to marry Seraphina. How could they have no children for ten years? Seraphina’s smile faltered, and she said uncomfortably, “My constitution is delicate. My husband feared I couldn’t endure the hardship of childbirth.” The women present listened with envy, praising Asher as an unparalleled husband. I remembered that in my previous life, after I married him, I remained childless for three years. The Dowager Duchess then began arranging for Asher to take a secondary wife. After Asher inherited his title, his mother and he even considered divorcing me. Now, Seraphina had been childless for ten years, yet Asher loved her as much as ever. So, it truly was obvious, the difference between being loved and not. I chuckled softly, shaking my head, my gaze catching a glimpse of a figure behind a screen. I was about to follow, when I turned and bumped into a stewardess carrying a tray. The pastries scattered across the floor. “Watch where you’re going! These were for the Queen of the Northern Steppe Empire!” The stewardess’s voice rose in a furious whisper. “If the Queen complains, how many heads do you have to bear the responsibility?” The stewardess’s scolding drew everyone’s attention. I gently explained to her, “It’s quite alright. I don’t care for these pastries anyway.” Asher Vance, standing nearby, looked utterly bewildered. “Evelyn Reed, what are you doing here?” Someone asked, bewildered, “Who is this?” Asher’s face showed disdain, and he said dismissively, “The youngest daughter of the Reed family. She was deeply infatuated with me, all of Veridia knew she would marry no one else. But alas, my heart has always belonged solely to my Lady.” Everyone suddenly understood, their eyes filling with mocking amusement as they looked at me. Asher frowned. “Don’t speak nonsense! Don’t let my wife misunderstand!” Seraphina’s smile faded slightly. She took Asher’s arm and said softly, “Husband, don’t be angry. Miss Reed showing up here just proves her devotion.” Asher frowned displeasedly, then turned to instruct a maid, “Escort her away. I will handle this.” From beginning to end, his eyes never rested on me for a moment, treating me like a stranger. The stewardess grabbed my arm and began pushing me out. “You’ve met a benefactor today, otherwise you’d be losing your head. Hurry, hurry! Is the Royal Palace a place just anyone can wander into?” I pulled my arm free from the stewardess’s grasp, my brow furrowed. “I’m looking for someone.” The stewardess scoffed, looking at my simple, foreign-style robes with disdain. “I’ve seen too many like you, trying to climb the social ladder. The Royal Palace has no shortage of beautiful women. Don’t delude yourself. If you don’t leave now, I’ll have the guards throw you into the Royal Dungeons!” “Stop.” 2 Asher’s voice drifted from behind me. He waved a hand, commanding, “She’s here for me. You may leave.” Then he walked in front of me, frowning, and warned in a low voice, “You’re a Reed; how can you be so ignorant of proper etiquette? This is His Majesty’s state banquet.” “No matter how much you miss me, you cannot cause a scene here.” “So, I’ll make myself clear today, to spare you this lingering obsession.” He put an arm around Seraphina’s shoulder, his gaze utterly doting. “My heart has always belonged solely to Seraphina. Even if you never marry for my sake, I won’t be moved.” Seraphina’s face practically glowed with triumph. “Miss Reed, don’t you feel ashamed, throwing yourself at him like this?” “A lady’s reputation is paramount.” “What man would ever look at you now?” She eyed me up and down, a mocking glint in her eyes. “Perhaps I can understand if you can’t forget Asher. After all, he’s a favorite in the King’s court, and there are always maids around who want to climb into his bed.” Perhaps my simple nomadic attire gave her confidence; she covered her mouth and chuckled twice, deliberately acting haughty. “You’re getting on in years, and dressed like… this. What man could possibly want you?” “Consider it my kindness today.” She took a golden hairpin from her hair and tossed it at my feet. “A gift for you. Go buy yourself some proper clothes.” I lowered my gaze to my robes. My husband, King Rhys, valued frugality. The entire Northern Steppe Imperial court dressed simply. How had it become ‘improper’ in their mouths? Seeing my silence, Asher frowned. He pulled off the jade pendant from his waist, a hint of impatience in his voice. “Is this enough? Don’t come looking for me again.” When I made no move to take it, Asher’s expression darkened. “What do you mean? You don’t want my things?” I was utterly bewildered. I was married and had a child. Was it not normal to refuse another man’s belongings? Besides, my husband was the King of the Northern Steppe Empire; taking his ‘junk’ would be an insult to him. “Didn’t you tell me not to take your things anymore?” Asher’s face turned cold. He gritted his teeth, saying nothing. I offered a faint smile, politely stating, “I don’t need these.” My repeated rejections made Asher’s expression even uglier. He said in a low voice, “If it weren’t for the Reed family’s decline, and the fact that you’re an orphan, do you think I’d bother with you?” Seraphina pouted, soothing him with affectionate glances. “Husband, you’re too sentimental. If you ask me, a woman this ungrateful should just be left to her own devices.” “Miss Reed is as beautiful as a flower; perhaps she has her own ways of making money. We don’t need to worry about her.” Her words were contemptuous, hinting subtly to Asher that I was frivolous and brazen. It seemed she had forgotten her own disgraceful past. 3 In my previous life, the reason Asher hadn’t married Seraphina wasn’t just because of family status, but also because Seraphina had once fallen into disgrace, a courtesan. The old Lord Vance had declared that if Asher insisted on marrying her, he would be stripped of his title and expelled from the Vance family. Asher had been willing to give up everything for Seraphina, but Seraphina, despising him for becoming a commoner, immediately went to become a mistress for a wealthy merchant. Asher fell gravely ill. If I hadn’t been by his side, caring for him, accompanying him through those dark days, he surely would have died. He loved riding and hunting, so I painstakingly practiced horsemanship, never giving up even after breaking my legs several times from falls. He wanted famous calligraphies and paintings, so I knelt for hours at the master’s door, begging for artworks for him. Later, he personally came to propose to me, swearing to my grandmother that he would love me for a lifetime. Before our wedding, I asked him if he still harbored feelings for Seraphina. After all, I had seen him more than once staring blankly at things she had left behind. But he swore to the heavens, his voice firm. “My heart holds only you. You are my only wife in this life. A woman as heartless as Seraphina doesn’t deserve my true affections.” “If I, Asher Vance, ever betray you in the future, may lightning strike me down, and may I never find peace.” But after ten years of marriage, I had not borne Asher a single child. I always thought it was my poor health, consuming countless herbal remedies, and frequently suffering the reproaches and insults of the Dowager Duchess, becoming the laughingstock of the entire capital. Later, I discovered that he had been secretly giving me contraceptive draughts disguised as tonics for ten years. He didn’t want me to bear his child. I confronted him, and just then, news of Seraphina’s death arrived. Asher immediately threw himself into the lake, taking his own life. Before he died, his eyes bloodshot, he looked at me. “The truth is, I couldn’t forget her. She was the woman I truly loved. Everything I said before was a lie.” “My Seraphina, wait for me. I’m coming to marry you in the afterlife.” In that moment, my heart truly died. So, after my rebirth, when Asher wanted to break off our engagement, I did not refuse. The day he welcomed Seraphina home with a grand procession and ten miles of crimson finery coincided with my grandmother’s passing. After arranging Grandmother’s funeral, I left the Reed family without a backward glance. I thought I would never have the chance to reunite with him in this life, but I never expected to meet him here. I wanted to leave, but Seraphina insisted on humiliating me. “Miss Reed, if you don’t want these gold and silver treasures, why not return to the Hayes household and become a maid?” “Being a maid in our family is far more glorious than being a young lady in some grand household.” “As long as you give up trying to seduce Asher, I might even make you my personal maid.” Upon hearing this, those around us immediately echoed her compliments. “A maid in the Marquis’s estate is a fine position! Why aren’t you kneeling to thank Lady Vance?” “Lady Vance is truly beautiful and kind-hearted. If anyone harbored ill intentions towards my husband, I’d scratch that vixen’s face off first.” Unable to escape for the moment, I could only say coldly, “I am already married. I have no improper thoughts about Asher Vance.” “You are going too far!” A flicker of something I couldn’t quite decipher—was it jealousy?—crossed Asher’s eyes. He scoffed. “Do you think saying that will make me regret it?” “Using your reputation to threaten me—do you even know the meaning of shame?” After leaving the capital, I traveled north, saving the severely wounded King Rhys of the Northern Steppe Empire on the border. He fell in love with me at first sight, pursuing me for three years until he finally won my heart. After we married, he left his concubine’s quarters empty for my sake, and everyone in the Northern Steppe Empire knew I was his life. How had I now become a tool for Asher’s jealousy? His inexplicable confidence made me frown. Since he wouldn’t believe me, I wasn’t willing to explain. After all, I had no one with me who could verify my identity. It was my son’s fault, really. If he hadn’t snuck out of the diplomatic residence, I wouldn’t have rushed out to find him without even tidying myself up. I was about to find an excuse to leave, but the stewardess from earlier suddenly spoke. “Her robes, though simple, the pattern… it looks like Northern Steppe Imperial court attire?” “This is the silk His Majesty sent to the King of the Northern Steppe Empire! The King of the Northern Steppe Empire even had clothes tailored for his Queen from it!” “Where did you steal this from?! Stealing from the Northern Steppe envoy—that’s a grave offense!” 4 I couldn’t help but frown. “Can’t it be my own?” Seraphina scoffed, mocking, “Someone from a small family just hasn’t seen the world. How could you buy anything from the palace?” “You didn’t steal these robes, did you, hoping to impress Asher and make him change his mind?” Asher looked at me, his face even more disdainful. “Delusional. My heart belongs only to Seraphina!” “Evelyn Reed, your petty tricks are truly sickening!” Those around us immediately began to fawn, flattering them. “I think we should just tie her up. Wouldn’t want to affect relations between the two kingdoms!” “Exactly! Everyone knows the King of the Northern Steppe Empire cherishes his Queen. If he found out some lowlife stole the Queen’s robes, he’d surely be enraged!” “Even worse, he’d probably have her torn limb from limb!” I knew they were deliberately humiliating me, simply to curry favor with Asher. Seraphina’s eyes instantly lit up when she heard them suggest I be punished. “Asher, we can’t let the King of the Northern Steppe Empire misunderstand!” “If you handle this envoy mission well, His Majesty will surely make you Grand Chancellor. You can’t let this vile woman ruin it for you!” Asher narrowed his eyes, about to order his men to seize me. Just then, the Chief Steward suddenly rushed in with a group of maids. “Lord Vance, have you seen the Little Crown Prince of the Northern Steppe Empire?!” “His Royal Highness has wandered off! The King is furious and searching for him!” The Chief Steward was drenched in sweat, his voice trembling with fear. “His Majesty has only this one son! I hear the Queen was just crowned Prince after he was born!” At this, everyone’s eyes lit up, and they immediately ordered their servants to search everywhere. After all, finding the Little Crown Prince would make them a great benefactor to the King. The Northern Steppe Empire was powerful; even the Verdant Kingdom had to cede land and pay tribute for years to maintain peace. Asher and Seraphina also joined the search, leaving no time to restrain me. I looked at the chaotic courtyard and walked straight behind the screen. Sure enough, I found my son, gleefully drinking from a goblet. I looked at my son, his cheeks flushed crimson, my voice turning cold. “Who let you drink that?” Seeing my angry expression, my son instantly dropped the goblet, his words stumbling. “I… I didn’t…” I was about to scold him, when the sound of the goblet shattering drew Seraphina over. She immediately stepped in front of my son, sternly scolding me. “Evelyn Reed! Mind your place!” “You’ve already sealed your own fate by stealing the Queen’s robes. Are you now trying to harm the Crown Prince?!” “Asher, this wicked woman cannot be allowed to stay!” Asher rushed over at the sound, his face etched with even deeper disappointment. “Evelyn Reed, you’ve truly gone mad with your obsession for me.” “Guards, take her to the Royal Dungeons! If she harms the Crown Prince of the Northern Steppe Empire, I’ll have your heads!” The eunuchs received the order and instantly seized my shoulders. Losing my balance, I fell directly to my knees. A vicious glint flashed in Seraphina’s eyes. “Show no mercy.” Then she turned, her face beaming with false kindness, and reached for my son’s hand. “Little Prince, tell me what you want, alright?” My son ignored her completely. To everyone’s shock, he kicked the eunuch’s knee. “Release your insolent hands! How many heads do you have to dare touch my Queen Mother?!”

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1 To pay off my boyfriend’s debts, my mother and I worked ourselves to the bone. But because of it, she developed lung cancer. When I rushed to the hospital with the money for her treatment, I found she had hanged herself, leaving behind only a letter: “Lila, my dear, your mother can’t go on. Take this money to pay off the debts. Julian is a good boy, he loves you, he just lost his way. After the debts are settled, live a good life together.” Clutching my mother’s ashes, I handed the thirty thousand dollars of her hard-earned money to Julian Winthorpe. Returning to the company, I unexpectedly saw him talking with several creditors. “Mr. Winthorpe, Miss July has passed all your tests. What are your next arrangements?” Julian’s childhood friend, Olivia Reed, suddenly spoke up: “Julian, darling, although Miss July can endure hardship with you, we still need to test if she can share prosperity.” Julian pursed his lips: “Next, I need to know if her feelings for me are genuine.” “After she knows my true identity, if she isn’t swayed by vanity, if she doesn’t become greedy for money, I will marry her.” I stared at my mother’s urn, tears streaming down my face. Julian Winthorpe, Mother was wrong about you. And so was I. I don’t want to marry you anymore. Leaving the Winthorpe Corporation, I sat by the roadside, clutching my mother’s urn. My mother had asked me to place her remains in a simple pickling jar. All to save five hundred dollars for Julian’s debts. On the large screen in the town square, Julian’s image appeared. The news anchor reported: “Just now, Mr. Julian Winthorpe, the CEO of Winthorpe Corporation, who mysteriously disappeared for three years, attended a gala with his fiancée, Miss Olivia Reed.” I watched Julian’s proud and confident face on the screen. Tears welled in my eyes. So, all the sweat and toil my mother and I poured into earning money to pay off his debts… was just a lie. I sat there for a long time, until dusk, when Julian called. His voice, as always, was tender: “It’s so late, why aren’t you home yet? Where are you? I’ll pick you up.” I instinctively opened my mouth, but silence was all that came out. In the past, I would have responded with a hint of resentment, complaining that he was disturbing my work again. But now, that intimate tone… I couldn’t bring myself to speak. Julian’s voice held a touch of urgency: “Lila, where are you now?” “Working.” Julian froze, seemingly just remembering that for his debts, I had been diligently working late into the night. He had also promised that once the debts were paid, he would marry me. We would settle down and build a life together, just as my mother had hoped. Tonight, he was supposed to reveal his true identity to me. “I, I have something to tell you. Actually, I’m the heir to the Winthorpe Corporation.” “I’m coming to pick you up right now…” I hung up, hailing a cab and driving away. I had no expectations left for Julian. When I finally collected myself, my tears were reflected in the car window. On my phone, Julian’s messages popped up, one after another. I didn’t look, nor did I want to. Today was supposed to be the day we started our new life. But his deception had turned my mother’s suicide into a bitter joke. Five years of arduous effort, exchanged only for a ludicrous truth. 2 Julian Winthorpe, I don’t want to marry you anymore. That night, I didn’t go home. Instead, I checked into a hotel. Julian, too, spent the entire night sending messages and making countless calls. I didn’t read them, nor did I answer. The next morning, I arrived at the office early, preparing my resignation letter. The company was a subsidiary of the Winthorpe Corporation, and I was just an ordinary accountant. Five years ago, I first met Julian when he joined the company. After we started dating, I took him to meet my mother. My mother approved of our engagement, and as we prepared for the wedding banquet, Julian told me he had incurred massive debts and had been fired from his job. To help him pay off his debts, I took on many part-time jobs. My mother’s already weathered face grew even older. Yet, I never imagined that this company… was his. I scoffed, a self-deprecating laugh. Just then, Julian walked in. I simply took out the printed resignation agreement. Julian appeared beside me, and under his gaze, I calmly signed the resignation agreement. He looked at me, his voice soft: “Finished?” “Finished.” Julian bit his lip slightly, seemingly unaware of the change in me. He cleared his throat: “Lila July, please come with me for a moment.” The moment Julian called me away, my colleagues immediately started whispering. “Oh my goodness, did you see the news? Julian Winthorpe is the CEO of Winthorpe Corporation!” “Lila is going to be the CEO’s wife, isn’t she? But her expression…” “You don’t understand, this is just a lovers’ quarrel. They’ll make up later, you know…” Everyone assumed I was the soon-to-be CEO’s wife. Little did they know, all I wanted now was to leave forever. In the office, Julian reached out, wanting to take my hand. I instinctively stepped back. “Mr. Winthorpe.” Julian frowned slightly. “Why didn’t you come home last night? Are you still angry with me?” I shook my head. “I went to see my mother.” I didn’t go back home because I didn’t want her to see my mother. If only she had received treatment, my mother would have had hope to live. But she chose to end her life, so as not to burden us. Julian seemed to notice a hint of something different in my demeanor. After a moment of silence, he spoke: “Tonight, let’s go see your aunt together.” He paused, then seemed to remember something, his eyes filled with hesitation. He slowly handed me a card. “There’s a million dollars in here. Buy your aunt some new clothes. Consider it…” I looked at the bank card but didn’t take it. What he owed us wasn’t something money could fix. Seeing my silence, a flicker of panic crossed Julian’s eyes. He was about to speak, when a ringtone interrupted his thoughts. Julian pulled out his phone, glanced at me, and after a moment’s hesitation, walked away. I knew. This was perhaps his so-called test for me. To test my sincerity, to see if I was greedy for money. But I no longer cared. Afterward, I submitted my resignation agreement. The Deputy CEO, Mr. Smith, seemed unsurprised by my sudden request to leave. “Lila, you’re leaving? Is Mr. Winthorpe arranging something else for you?” I bit my lip, finding it all so absurd. Everyone assumed I was about to become Mrs. Winthorpe, rising into the upper echelons of society. They all envied my luck. 3 Little did they know I had lost my mother forever because of him. If I had a choice, I would rather never have met Julian Winthorpe. Leaving the company, I saw Julian with his childhood friend, Olivia Reed. Catching my gaze, Julian instinctively began to explain, “This is Olivia Reed, she’s my…” Before he could finish, Olivia wrapped her arm around his. “Fiancée.” I said nothing. Then, Olivia spoke again: “Excuse me, please move aside.” A flicker of challenge danced in Olivia’s eyes. I silently took a step back, clearing the path. Julian looked at me, hesitation in his eyes, as if wanting to say something, but Olivia pulled him away. That night, I went to the monastery and enshrined my mother’s ashes in the temple. I stayed until the prayers for her passing were completed. Julian did not appear, nor did he ask for me. I didn’t care. Whether he knew of my mother’s death was irrelevant now. I believed that if my mother’s spirit in heaven knew the truth, she wouldn’t want to see him either. Five years of misjudgment ended right then. I returned home at dawn. Julian hadn’t come back, but I didn’t care. As I packed my luggage, the news broadcast on the television was about the CEO of Winthorpe Corporation attending a gala with his fiancée, Olivia Reed. I watched the perfectly matched pair, feeling little emotion. With my bags packed, I was about to leave. The sound of the door opening, and Julian appeared. The moment he saw me, Julian rushed over, seizing my hand. “Where were you last night? Why didn’t you answer my calls?” I froze, then pulled my hand free from Julian’s grasp. “Last night, I was with my mother. I didn’t want to disturb her rest, so I turned off my phone.” When I mentioned my mother, Julian seemed to remember what he had said the day before, and a hint of guilt crossed his face. “I’ll arrange for the best doctors to care for your aunt.” He then pulled out a small box and pressed it into my hand. “This is what I promised to give your aunt.” I instinctively opened it; inside was a bracelet. It was the genuine counterpart to the cherished bracelet my mother had carefully kept. I froze. Julian had once held my mother’s hand, swearing earnestly and solemnly that one day he would give her a priceless original. My mother’s eyes had held a smile then; she didn’t care if the bracelet was real or not. As long as it was from Julian, from the good son-in-law she recognized, she would be happy. But I thought, that was then. I closed the box and handed it back. “If you get a chance, you can give it to her yourself.” Julian frowned slightly. Each time, I made the choice he most expected, yet my politeness now seemed unfamiliar to him. A hint of unease flickered in his heart. He grasped my hand, clenching it slightly. “Your aunt’s health…” Just then, Olivia Reed appeared, wrapping her arm around Julian’s. “Julian, darling, I want to stay in this room!” She pointed to my room. “This room is occupied,” Julian said, then immediately explained to me, “She’s a friend, and she’s staying here temporarily for work.” He then stared at me intently, seemingly expecting me to refuse. But I nodded, agreeing without hesitation: “You can have the room. I’m going to stay with my mother.” Julian paused for a moment, and Olivia, not giving me a chance to change my mind, immediately rushed into the room. 4 Only then did he notice the luggage in my hand. He pursed his lips, clutching my hand tightly, refusing to let go, his eyes deepening with guilt. Finally, urged by Olivia’s impatient calls, he spoke: “Tomorrow, I’ll go see your aunt.” I carried my luggage back to my mother’s place, intending to collect all her belongings. But looking at her room, I couldn’t help but shed more tears. Her room was large, capable of holding many things. Yet, her room was also small, small enough to only contain the tiny fragments of my life with Julian. On the wall, hung our joint photos. On the table, sat the cheap little duck dolls Julian and I had given her. In the corner, the milk I had brought her remained untouched; she hadn’t dared to drink a single bottle, saving it for Julian and me. The bracelet Julian had given her, she had carefully placed in a box, polished to a shine. Other than that, her own possessions were only countless handmade craft components, endless embroidery projects, and a small mountain of leather bags. All of this was to save money to pay off Julian’s debts. And all of it was for my future happiness. I tore the joint photos to shreds, smashing the little duck dolls. But the one photo—the one of Julian and me, holding her hands—I couldn’t bring myself to destroy. I placed it at the bottom of my suitcase. With everything packed, I returned to the company for my final handover. Upon arriving, I saw Olivia Reed sitting at my desk. My colleagues watched us, nobody speaking. Perhaps, in their eyes, this was a showdown between a childhood sweetheart and an unexpected rival, and no one caught in the middle could escape unscathed. Seeing me approach, Olivia crossed her legs and flung a check onto the desk. “Ten million dollars. For this position.” Faced with her provocation, I calmly picked up the check. “Alright, I’ll just pack up my things.” Everyone assumed I was bending for a paltry sum, sighing with pity for me. I didn’t care. I calmly packed my belongings, preparing to leave. Just then, Julian walked over, noticing me with my luggage. His expression suddenly tightened. “Where are you going?” “I…” Olivia cut in, speaking first: “I bought this position.” Julian frowned, glancing at me. I raised the check in my hand. “I’ve accepted the money. Ten million.” Hearing my words, Julian suddenly froze. He turned his head, seeing Olivia’s triumphant, expectant expression. His face suddenly turned grim, and the atmosphere solidified. Julian said nothing, as if in silent agreement. Not until my back disappeared from view, did Julian shrug off Olivia’s clinging arm. In front of everyone, he slapped her across the face, his voice cold: “Don’t you dare humiliate her. Do you understand?” After leaving the company, my phone received a text message from Julian. 【The specialists I hired have arrived. I’m sending them to your aunt’s hospital room now.】 【Tonight, we’ll go see your aunt together.】 【I’m craving your cooking.】 I smiled, a sudden, bitter taste in my mouth. Julian Winthorpe, goodbye. I gathered all my luggage and headed to the airport. Just as I was about to board the plane, Julian’s messages popped up furiously. 【Lila, the specialists went to the hospital, but your aunt isn’t there?】 【Lila, where on earth is your aunt?!】 【Mother, has she really…】

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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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