Psychological

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.

After my sister passed away, Jiang Huaizhou treated me like her substitute.

He married me, yet he despised me.

Outside our marriage, he kept one lover after another.

He even mocked me, saying, “Even with Weiwei dead, you will never compare to her.”

He belittled me until I was worth less than nothing.

But then I remembered that there had once been someone who said to me:

“Yinyin, no one else matters. You matter most.”

The woman my husband had always pined for was parachuted in as my intern.

She sobbed and accused me of bullying her, and for the first time, my husband raised a hand against me.

The next day, I returned to the company with the group’s dissolution notice in hand.

Only then did they realize that his position as deputy general manager-and the entire office building-were both mine to control.

I am the most pathetic pervert alive.

After a year of crushing on the class heartthrob,

I finally couldn’t suppress my urge to spy on him anymore.

So I installed a cheap camera in his home.

Less than three hours later, the camera ran out of battery and shut off.

I tried to send him a creepy message:

-I like you I like you I like you I like you

Before it could even send, my phone notified me that my service had been suspended for unpaid bills.

Because I was broke,

I was forced to become an upstanding person.

Until one day, when I opened my door,

Xie Yu was on my bed, half-dressed and tied up with rope.

When he saw me come in, he even deliberately tightened the ropes, looking pitiful as he said,

“You don’t like me anymore, Xiaocui?”

On our wedding day, he left me alone at the venue and disappeared.

Four months pregnant, I called him again and again.

At first, he simply didn’t answer. Later, his phone was turned off completely.

Whispers began to rise around me.

“This is the first time I’ve ever seen a groom run away from his own wedding.”

“Shotgun marriages never involve decent people. No wonder he doesn’t want her.”

I stood in the wind, at a complete loss, trying over and over to reassure the guests as they left one after another.

All day long, I waited like a fool on that street corner. Even after everyone had gone, he still never appeared.

An auntie nearby muttered without thinking, “Jiang Shen looks like your father’s ex-wife’s son. Don’t tell me he came to get revenge on you.”

On the way back, those words kept echoing through my mind.

Lost and dazed, my car collided with a truck. My four-month-old child and I were buried beneath the wreckage.

In the tenth year after I married Pei Yan, he made my legitimate elder sister his empress.

Then he ordered me to feed a gu with my own body to cure her poison.

“Yuanyuan, it is only a Forget-Sorrow Gu. Wouldn’t it be nice to forget all your worries?”

It did sound nice.

So, right in front of him, I swallowed that Forget-Sorrow Gu. Just as he wished, I began to “forget sorrow.”

I forgot how he had demoted me from wife to concubine.

I forgot the bowl of abortifacient medicine he had bestowed upon me.

I forgot that I had once loved him more than life itself.

Later, bewildered, I asked my maid,

“His Majesty is so strange.

“I smiled at him, didn’t I? So why was he still crying?”

My brother once forced me to swear that I would never harbor any immoral thoughts about him in this life.

I did as he asked.

But he didn’t know that we were living inside a PO novel.

If I failed to win him over, I would be replaced by a new little sister.

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.

You had been blind. Then, one day, your sight suddenly returned. But a voice in your mind said, “Don’t tell them you can see.”

Chapter 0

The storm had passed.

Uncle Xiong rolled off me, sated, pillowing his head on my arm as the tip of his nose nuzzled into the hollow of my neck.

“I know every girl at Golden Sand Beach has a story, Shaluo. I want to hear yours.”

“Sure. Do you want the long version or the short one?”

“The long one.”

The long version wasn’t that long, either.