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When Xu Yueyao returned home feeling disheartened, Aunt Wang had already left. The dining table still had warm food on it. Standing in the living room, she took in everything before her, carefully observing every corner of the room. This house wasn’t in the book—it was something she had worked hard to obtain. She shook her head and muttered to herself, “No, things have changed. This is already different from the book. Xu Yueyao, don’t be afraid.”
She steadied herself and walked to the dining table, eating as she used to. She picked up a piece of braised pork, then some vegetables, stuffing her mouth full and chewing with force. The clash of her teeth, the taste of the food—everything reminded her that this was real. As the food on the plate gradually diminished, suddenly, one drop, then another… more and more tears fell onto the table. She forced herself to swallow the food in her mouth, but fear and helplessness spread through her heart.
Late at night, Xu Yueyao lay on her bed, eyes shut tightly, her delicate brows furrowed in pain as if trapped in a nightmare.
“I am Zhan Shao’s woman! You can’t touch me!” Xu Yueyao cried in fear, looking at the red-clothed woman who had kidnapped her.
The woman turned around, revealing an incredibly beautiful face. Her long, chestnut curls cascaded down her back, and her exquisite features were enhanced by a tear-shaped mole at the corner of her eye, giving her an air of cold allure.
Lifting Xu Yueyao’s chin, she smirked playfully. “Zhan Shao’s woman? As far as I know, Zhan Rongxuan has found his true love and even has a prestigious fiancée. And you? Just a mere bedwarmer, yet you dare claim to be Zhan Shao’s woman?”
Xu Yueyao had no idea who had kidnapped her—was it the Zhan family matriarch? An Zhiyi? Or Zhan Rongxuan’s enemies? She didn’t know. Too many people wanted her dead. She pleaded, “Since you know I’m just a bedwarmer, why bother kidnapping me? I’m insignificant to Zhan Rongxuan. Please, let me go.”
“I didn’t bring you here because of Zhan Rongxuan,” the red-clothed woman sneered, gripping Xu Yueyao’s chin harshly. “I brought you here because of you. You shouldn’t be alive, understand?”
“Men,” the woman called, releasing her grip and standing up.
Several black-clad men entered, standing behind her. The red-clothed woman looked at Xu Yueyao with disdain and said mockingly, “This is Zhan Shao’s woman? Consider yourselves lucky.” She then smiled at Xu Yueyao before turning to leave.
Watching her walk away, Xu Yueyao suddenly realized what was about to happen. Terrified, she shook her head repeatedly and backed away. “No! Stay away! Don’t come near me!”
As the black-clad men approached her, despair consumed her. “Zhan Rongxuan! Zhan Rongxuan, save me! No! Please—AHH! Get away! Don’t touch me!” The sounds of tearing fabric, her screams, and curses echoed from the room.
The red-clothed woman stood to the side while a white-clothed woman sat leisurely on a chair, absentmindedly playing with a silver necklace in her delicate hands.
“Hongyu, is she beautiful?” the white-clothed woman asked, her soft lips curving slightly.
“She’s not even a fraction as beautiful as you, Miss,” Hongyu responded expressionlessly.
“For Zhan Rongxuan, who ignores all women, to have taken notice of her… she must have something special.” The white-clothed woman was stunning herself. But recalling the indifferent way Zhan Rongxuan had always looked at her, as if she were no different from anyone else, only made her more curious. Just what kind of woman had caught his eye?
No one knew how much time had passed when Xu Yueyao was jolted awake by a bucket of cold water. Slowly, she opened her eyes and saw a woman in a flowing white dress standing before her. She had fair skin, a gentle and elegant demeanor, delicate arched brows, and a pair of clear, bright eyes. Her oval-shaped face was exquisitely beautiful, with dimples faintly visible when she smiled, making her look like an ethereal fairy.
Looking at Xu Yueyao, she softly complained to the red-clothed woman beside her, “Hongyu, you’re too rough.”
Lowering her head, she studied Xu Yueyao closely. At this moment, Xu Yueyao was curled up, her clothes in tatters, blood-stained hair clinging to her pale neck. Her small face, incredibly delicate, was covered in tear streaks, resembling a forgotten toy—fragile like a bubble, ready to burst at any moment.
She crouched down to meet Xu Yueyao’s eyes, scrutinizing her features. Her face was flawless, and her body was perfect in every way. Even in her ruined state, she was breathtakingly beautiful—so beautiful it irritated her.
Staring at Xu Yueyao’s porcelain skin, the woman’s innocent eyes sparkled as she murmured, “Hongyu, if we strip the skin off her face, no one will know what she looks like, right?”
“Yes, Miss,” Hongyu responded, momentarily surprised but quickly regaining her composure.
“Then do it.” The woman smiled sweetly at Xu Yueyao, her pure eyes almost making Xu Yueyao doubt what she had just heard.
“Miss, please wait outside. This place is too dirty. You shouldn’t get your clothes stained,” Hongyu suggested.
“No, I want to watch,” the white-clothed woman said cheerfully, eyes shining with excitement.
A chill ran down Xu Yueyao’s spine. This woman was a lunatic.
“AHHH!” Xu Yueyao screamed in agony as Hongyu sliced a piece of skin from her arm. The searing pain was unbearable. Sweat dripped from her forehead as she bit down on her lip, staring weakly at the woman before her. “Who… are you?”
Hongyu’s blade continued its cruel work, severing flesh with precision. At first, the pain was dull—just the sensation of her skin being peeled away. But soon, it became excruciating, an agony that consumed her entire being. Just as she was about to lose consciousness, she heard a whisper.
“Remember, I am Nangong Ying.”
“AHH!” Xu Yueyao bolted upright, gasping for breath, drenched in sweat. She felt as if she were drowning, struggling for air. That dream… that nightmare—it was the ending from the book. The cold words of the author had depicted her tragic fate in horrifying detail. She had been killed by Zhan Rongxuan’s fiancée, Nangong Ying.
Xu Yueyao clutched herself tightly.
Nangong Ying—Zhan Rongxuan’s fiancée. The book barely mentioned her. The Nangong family was the most mysterious aristocratic clan in the imperial capital. They never participated in power struggles, but no one dared offend them due to their vast natural resource holdings. But according to the book, Nangong Ying had no interest in Zhan Rongxuan and had desperately tried to annul their engagement. So why did she kill Xu Yueyao?
After Xu Yueyao’s death, nothing changed. It was as if the author had hastily written her out of the story. No one ever mentioned her again. The last reference to her came in the description of Zhan Rongxuan’s demise—how he died holding the female lead’s good luck charm, having loved but never obtained her, without heirs, leading to the gradual decline of the Zhan family.
She had once read this novel as just another mindless romance, never questioning its logic. But now that she was inside the story, she realized how many things she didn’t know.
Xu Yueyao felt utterly lost.
What could she do to change her fate?