chapter 1

chapter 1

That woman was Mrs. Bai, my father’s lawful wife.

My mother was his mistress—beautiful, coquettish, and extraordinarily good at pleasing him. Bai Xiangshan was infatuated with her. Her only ambition was to become his wife.

He used to coax her, “A wife has so many hard responsibilities. You only need to dress beautifully and wait for me to spoil you. Isn’t that easier? Be good. Let her suffer while you enjoy yourself.”

My mother believed him when she was young. As I grew older, she stopped believing. She went from enjoying the process to demanding results.

“I can live without a proper name,” she wept in her softest voice, “but must my daughter do the same? Bai Xiangshan, Youyou is your daughter too.”

Then came the sweetest threat imaginable: “If you won’t even protect her, what security do I have with you? I’ll leave and marry any man willing to give my daughter a legitimate identity.”

She pretended to drag me away. My father panicked and clung to her. She declared she wanted neither villas nor jewelry nor him—only a respectable identity for her daughter.

With no other choice, he surrendered three projects to the Qi family and secured my engagement to their young master. My mother instantly changed her mind, nestled into his arms, and murmured, “I knew you loved us. I misunderstood you. I won’t go anywhere.”

The moment we returned home, her expression turned stern. “The Qis are prestigious. Marrying into their family is an enormous blessing. This time, your mother has won you something big—a bright future.”

I was seven and barely understood engagement.

Afterward, Mother’s enthusiasm for Father cooled. Irritated, he warned her, “An engagement isn’t a marriage. A proper wife cannot rely on beauty, coaxing, and serving a man. She must be presentable. Be ready for the engagement to be canceled.”

Mother shot back, “Divorce her and marry me. Then my daughter will be the Bai heiress. What could be more presentable?”

His arrogance evaporated. He would give her anything except marriage.

After a long silence, he said, “The Qis originally wanted Bai Zhuo. Grandfather promised her to them first. I exhausted every favor and conceded enormous profits to win the engagement for Bai You.”

Mother knew when to stop. She merely reminded him, “Bai You didn’t become an illegitimate daughter through my actions alone.”

Embarrassed, Father looked away. “Not all illegitimate daughters are equal. One who enters a good university may still earn respect.”

Mother understood. From then on, she watched me study every day.

The original Bai You was obedient and had no hobby but studying. Yet no matter how hard she worked, she could not become exceptional. Intelligence ran in the family. Like Mother, she struggled merely to enter a key high school.

Father was surprised she had managed even that and placed her in the elite class with Bai Zhuo and Qi Sinian.

Soon, someone exposed her identity. Everyone mocked her as the mistress’s daughter who had stolen another woman’s husband for her mother and another woman’s fiancé for herself. They said Bai Zhuo and Qi Sinian belonged together, while Bai You was a toad dreaming of eating swan meat.

She was alone. Qi Sinian, her supposed fiancé, watched her coldly while treating Bai Zhuo and the others gently. Bai Zhuo and Qi Sinian ranked first and second; Bai You worked until one or two every morning just to remain in the elite class.

She begged Mother to transfer her and cancel the engagement.

Mother refused. “Isolation means nothing. I once had friends too. They abandoned me when I followed your father, but none of them eat, dress, or live as well as I do now.”

Her voice broke. “I lack nothing except vindication. Study hard, Youyou. Enter a better university than Bai Zhuo and vindicate your mother.”

But excellence was not guaranteed by effort. Bai You never slacked, yet her grades did not rise. Mother’s daily confidence only made her more desperate.

After another exam barely saved her from expulsion, despair swallowed her. She took a pencil knife to her arm. Blood poured out. She felt no fear, only relief.

Mother found her, stopped the bleeding, and called an ambulance. The doctor said another moment would have been too late.

That was the original heroine’s story.

In truth, she lost too much blood and died.

The doctors saved me instead.

I awoke in the hospital with my mother crying beside me. I assumed she feared she had nearly driven me to death. No—she was crying over my canceled engagement.

I remembered the few pages of this novel I had read, drew my hand from hers, and gently stroked her hair.

She went silent in astonishment.

“Mom, don’t mention the engagement again. Living is better than dying, isn’t it? From now on, let’s live well together.”

Only then did she remember I had just returned from death. She wailed, “We won’t be respectable wives anymore! I’ll teach you everything I know. Find a man like your father and let him support you forever.”

I wanted to refuse, but I was curious. What skills could she possibly have?

Apparently, formidable ones. She was over forty, with gray at her temples and lines at her eyes, yet Father remained obsessed with her. Other philanderers replaced an aging mistress. My father desired only her.

The novel was called The CEO’s Mistress Girl. A friend had recommended it. It claimed that even at fifty, Mother was cherished like a young girl.

I laughed at the author for not understanding men. Then my vision went black, and I fell into the book.