Psychological

Two years into our marriage, I finally became pregnant.

But then my husband brought home an eight-year-old girl.

That girl called him “Dad.”

Do you know what it feels like to be diagnosed with a terminal illness at such a young age?

My father was famous throughout the surrounding villages for being a good man.

One freezing winter during a famine, he gave the last of our rice to a mother and child passing by.

After they left, they told everyone they met that my family still had grain.

The starving refugees, driven mad by hunger, came to our door to steal it, only to find an empty rice jar.

Humiliated and enraged, they forced my three-year-old sister into their arms and carried her away.

“If there’s no rice, then your daughter will do!”

I ran after them. In the end, all I found in the ruined temple was my sister’s mangled remains.

When I returned home, my father wailed through his tears, “I was trying to save people! It’s not my fault… That was just her fate!”

He saved someone else. In the end, my sister died, and I died too, in the bitter winter when I was fifteen.

When I opened my eyes again, I saw my father handing the freshly cooked rice to that mother and child.

I picked up the flower hoe beside me and stepped up behind him.

When I was six years old, I first discovered I could see things that didn’t belong to this world.

My grandfather passed away that year, and we moved into his home in the Grain Bureau Residential Compound.

A week after he died, I saw him at home again. He was leaning on a dragon-head cane, tottering toward the bathroom all by himself.

I followed him, only to find the bathroom completely empty.

I told my dad about it, and he slapped me hard across the face.

Grandma said I was seeing “unclean things.”

But later, I realized I could see more than just the dead; I could see the living, too.

For instance, Aunt Chen from the compound had been away on a business trip to Beijing for several days. Yet one afternoon, I ran into her in the stairwell-just a fleeting glimpse.

I ran off to tell the adults who were outside enjoying the cool air. As a result, when Aunt Chen finally did come home, she and her husband had a massive row.

After my eldest sister took her own life, her marriage to the Heir of the Marquis of Changping was passed down to my second sister.

After my second sister took her own life, the original betrothal landed on my head.

Less than half a year after marrying into Changping Marquis Manor, I wanted to take my own life too.

Just as I was hesitating over whether to hang myself like my eldest sister or swallow gold like my second sister, the heir returned from disaster relief.

And he brought back a concubine.

I looked at the delicate, beautiful concubine and nearly wept with joy.

Wonderful. In this grand, suffocating mansion, I was finally not the only unlucky one anymore.

When a wealthy family came to the orphanage to choose a child, they wavered between me and Cheng Yun.

A barrage of comments scrolled before my eyes:

[The female supporting character is about to start acting pitiful again so she can get adopted.]

[Even if she does get adopted, she’ll just be abandoned later anyway.]

[She’ll spend her whole life hated by everyone, chasing what she can never have. Just another girl obsessed with competing against other girls.]

I silently lowered my head.

Because the “female supporting character” they were talking about was me.

Suddenly, two figures loomed over me.

A Northeastern couple who had never been mentioned in the plot looked down at me, their faces lighting up with surprise.

“Oh my goodness, look at this pretty little thing!”

“Sweetheart, your uncle and auntie are having pork and glass noodle stew at home today. Smells amazing. Wanna come back with us and have some?”

The day my interview results came out, I came across a post: “How lethal can a white moonlight really be?”

The top-voted answer had only been posted a little while ago.

“I’ll tell my own story. He had a crush on me in high school, and we ran into each other a few days ago while I was job hunting.”

“Even if I’m not as capable as the others, he’ll still make me the one-in-ten-thousand choice.”

Attached was a graduation photo of them at eighteen.

The girl wore a white dress, her slim back quiet and well-behaved.

The boy had his head turned, looking at her intently, his profile clean and… familiar.

My phone trembled faintly. It was the message rejecting me after the interview.

Only then did I understand. She was Xie Qingyue’s white moonlight-and what she had killed was my future.

I would rather be a tree waiting for spring than a bird that turns back.

I could allow my feelings to fall apart completely.

But my future, my freedom, my life-none of them could afford the slightest mistake.

My husband was sick and dying.

But before he died, he insisted on divorcing me.

He transferred every asset under his name, including the company, to me and left himself without a penny.

The night we signed the divorce agreement, he held me and cried like his heart was being ripped out.

He said this was the last thing he could do for me. He didn’t want me, after his death, to become the widow everyone pitied-the woman whose husband had died.

It was his one and only wish before he passed. As the wife who loved him so deeply, how could I possibly refuse?

The night before we were supposed to pick up the divorce certificate, he suddenly fell into a coma and was rushed to the hospital.

The doctor issued a critical condition notice.

And I signed the consent form to forgo treatment without hesitation.

They couldn’t save my husband. He died on that rain-lashed night.

I turned away, wiped the tears from my eyes, and tore the divorce agreement to shreds with a smile.

That same night, I called the funeral home. Before dawn broke, I had him sent into the cremator and burned down to a handful of ash.

From a very young age, I knew I was a Villainess Supporting Character.

I knew because of a strange palace maid by my side named Sui’an. Sometimes, she would stare blankly at the top of my head as if there were words written there.

Later, after spending enough time with her, I managed to piece together the truth from countless minor details: There really were words floating above my head, and those words were: Villainess Supporting Character.

On New Year’s Eve, my husband was trapped on the highway due to a blizzard.

“Honey, you’ve been working so hard. As soon as the snow stops, I’ll rush back home.”

Hearing the exhaustion in his voice, my heart softened.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got everything under control here.”

I spent the rest of the night busy until I was dizzy, right up until my best friend called me.

“Where did you say he was stuck?”

“The Shanghai-Shanxi Expressway.”

“That’s impossible! That road was cleared for traffic six hours ago. Are you sure he’s actually on the highway?”