Every day, she thought about how to escape this place.  

But every time she tried to run, Chen Shuo would find her.  

And after each failed attempt, she would face even more brutal torment.  

Chen Shuo would use knives, nails, and countless other excruciating methods to force her submission.  

He claimed to love her, yet he never respected her will, never acknowledged her as a person.  

She was like a pet he kept—when he was happy, he would pat her head and kiss her lips.  

But when he was displeased, or when he sensed she wanted to escape again, she would suffer especially cruel punishment.  

On many nights, Chen Shuo would grab her by the hair, leaving wounds large and small across her body, all while his eyes burned red as he begged her in a pleading voice.  

“Taotao, look at me… Please, just like me a little. Taotao, don’t hate me… Please, love me…”

If he didn’t get the answer he wanted, he would keep crying, keep begging.  

But when begging proved useless, he would resort to even more violent means to force her surrender.  

In those days of torment, covered in wounds, Jiang Tao once collapsed in despair and screamed, “Why me?!  

“There are so many people in this world—why won’t you let me go?!

“Chen Shuo, I saved you!” 

When he was bullied, when he was drowning in despair and wanted to kill himself—it was she who stepped forward and drove away his tormentors.  

It was she who patiently comforted him, guiding him out of the shadows of hopelessness.  

She had never wronged Chen Shuo in any way.  

So why did he have to treat her like this?!  

Whenever she asked, Chen Shuo would just hold her and laugh.  

“Who asked you to meddle in the first place?” 

“Jiang Tao, I had never seen light before. I was used to the darkness—I didn’t need anyone’s pity or charity. Who told you to self-righteously play the hero?”  

“Who needed your hypocritical guidance? Did you think you were so noble and kind back then? Did you think you were some kind of savior?”  

From childhood, he had lived in the dark.  

He had never known what light looked like.  

And he never wanted to.  

But her appearance forcibly dragged him into the truth of life.  

“I wanted to die back then! I wanted to die—do you understand?! Why did you pull me back from the edge?”

“And why did you have to tell me there was still light in this world?”  

“Who cares about your kindness? Compassion and mercy are the most useless things in this world, Jiang Tao. You could’ve just left me alone at the cliff’s edge—but why did you have to be so kind to everyone?”

Chen Shuo’s eyes burned crimson as he watched Jiang Tao’s thunderstruck expression. His lips curled into a satisfied smile.  

“Taotao, after all these years, you still haven’t learned to be selfish. You’re so kind to everyone—if you don’t suffer a crushing blow because of it, you’ll never learn.”  

And he was the one who would deliver that blow.  

Jiang Tao was the source of his light. Just by standing there, she made him yearn to draw closer.  

But her radiance illuminated everyone.  

Even as Chen Shuo longed to approach, he couldn’t help but find it blinding.  

For Jiang Tao, he felt both obsession and hatred.  

He loved her for the kindness that had once pulled him from the darkness.  

And he hated her because that kindness wasn’t his alone.  

He had pretended to be bright and optimistic, acting as though he were just like her.  

But all facades eventually crack.  

Once he could no longer keep up the act, Jiang Tao’s doom was sealed.  

During those days of imprisonment and torment, the words she heard most often were: “You brought this on yourself with your kindness. If only you hadn’t meddled back then, I wouldn’t have fixated on you.”  

Hearing it so often, Jiang Tao began to despise her past self.  

What was once her most unremarkable virtue became the thing she loathed most.  

Yet Jiang Tao never gave up trying to save herself.  

The last time she was caught escaping, Chen Shuo pinned down her battered body and suddenly smiled—weary, yet relieved.  

“Taotao, maybe only in death will you stop trying to leave me.” 

As those words left his lips, a fruit knife plunged into her flesh.  

In that room Chen Shuo had prepared just for her, Jiang Tao closed her eyes forever.  

Before death took her, she could still hear Chen Shuo whispering how much he loved her.  

“They say good people are rewarded—ha! The most laughable lie I’ve ever heard!”

Jiang Tao’s eyes were pitch-black now, like two bottomless voids ready to devour and tear.  

As she finished recounting everything through gritted teeth, the hatred in her gaze never faded.  

She still couldn’t understand why she had ended up like this. If she had to trace the cause, it was just as Chen Shuo had said—  

Blame her sanctimonious heart.

Blame her for meddling.

Director Qin’s eyes were heavy with sorrow, and only when he touched his face did he realize tears had been streaming down his cheeks.  

“Xiao Tao, this wasn’t your fault.”  

Jiang Tao froze, lifting her head in stunned silence.  

[Damn it, what kind of monstrous bastard is Chen Shuo?! Fuck fuck fuck! Why isn’t he dead yet?!]  

[I’m actually crying from rage. He ruined her entire life, and even in death, he was still gaslighting her!]  

The barrage of comments was overwhelmingly filled with curses for Chen Shuo and heartbreak for Jiang Tao’s suffering.  

But there were always those who saw things differently from normal people.  

[Wait, am I the only one who finds Chen Shuo and Jiang Tao’s dynamic kinda… hot? Yandere guy x sunshine sweetheart—oh my god, I’m shipping so hard!]  

[AHHHH! Same! Especially knowing Jiang Tao used to love Chen Shuo too—I’m living for this tragic romance! The BE ending hurts, but that’s what makes it so delicious!]  

[Chen Shuo did love her, though. He just didn’t know how to love properly. No one ever taught him. If Jiang Tao had confessed earlier, none of this would’ve happened!]  

[Y’all need to drink some pesticide and rethink your life choices.]  

[Jiang Tao was murdered, and you idiots are still shipping them?! Do you even have a heart? Go die!]  

[Romanticizing abuse—real classy.]  

[Let’s be real, Jiang Tao brought this on herself. Who drinks a random guy’s milk tea without any caution?]  

[LMAO, serves the gold-digging little fairy right!]  

[Oh please, since when is accepting a drink “gold-digging”? Fuck off, incel.]  

[It wasn’t a stranger’s drink, dumbass! Chen Shuo and Jiang Tao had been close friends since high school—who knew he was a fucking psycho?!]  

[Easy to judge when you’re not the one in her shoes. If it were you, could you honestly say you’d have done better?]  

Huo Ning stared at Jiang Tao, her expression complicated. She opened her mouth as if to speak, but in the end, all that came out was a sigh.  

Amid the chaos, one viewer’s comment stood out, addressing the overlooked question:  

[Wait, when Jiang Tao went missing, why didn’t anyone report it? How could a whole hospital not notice she might be in danger?]  

[And if Jiang Tao died at Chen Shuo’s place, why is her ghost haunting the hospital?]