Lin Hye Ji open the box it was a brooch with a matching bangle feet for young girls of her age her mother's last designs the sin of her mother covered in blood The image of her mother, sprawled on the floor and covered in blood, flashed violently across Lin Hye Ji's mind. Her chest constricted, her eyes turned red, and for the first time, the innocence of childhood was replaced by a fire far too heavy for an eight-year-old to bear. Not only had her father killed her mother—he had dragged her name through the mud. He would pay. They all would.
Her gaze, burning with hatred, hardened into something sharp, something cold. A venom no child should ever carry gleamed there.
Yes, she did not suffer from selective amnesia. She had heard her father's whispers, his threats to throw her into an asylum. She had known his cruelty. And so, she chose to play her role—masking her mind behind a curtain of feigned forgetfulness. It was fortunate her mother's private doctor, a loyal friend, had sensed her intent and played along with her lies.
"Lin Hao. Su Man…" she whispered through clenched teeth, her small fists trembling with fury. "You will pay."
Minutes before midnight, she sat silently by her doll, her little suitcase neatly beside her. She did not tremble. She did not hide. She trusted her mother's friend, and she was ready.
At the stroke of twelve, faint footsteps echoed down the corridor. Calm, deliberate, unhurried. Her heart quickened, yet her face remained composed. The door creaked open, revealing a figure clad entirely in black—slim pants, a down jacket, a face cap shadowing most of his face.
The figure's gaze fell on her, lingering on the box in her hand. A brow arched slightly. "You don't need to bring anything with you," the stranger said, his voice soft, almost melodic, soothing like a woman's.
"They are memories," Lin Hye Ji answered matter-of-factly, her voice steady despite the storm inside.
Something flickered in the man's hidden eyes, but he did not argue. He only turned, gesturing for her to follow. Step by step, they descended the staircase together, silent shadows in the night.
Not a single servant stirred. Not even the guards stationed at the gates. When they reached the front, the security man lay slumped in his chair, breathing evenly in a deep, unnatural sleep.
Strange. The Royal pavilion may not have been as secure as Sunlight Haven, but their security men were trained, handpicked, and disciplined. No one should have been able to slip past them unnoticed.
"They will be awake in five minutes," the man murmured quietly.
Hye Ji only nodded, her face calm, her sharp eyes reflecting understanding.
A sleek black car rolled up before them, silent as the night itself. The man opened the back door for her, and she climbed in without hesitation. He placed her luggage in the trunk before slipping inside.
As he removed his gloves and pulled off his cap, the shadows peeled back to reveal his features. He was young—seventeen, perhaps eighteen—with skin so fair it seemed to glow in the moonlight. His face was smooth, delicate, with a beauty sharper than that of many celebrities, almost androgynous in its perfection.
Lin Hye Ji studied him without fear, her small hands folded neatly in her lap. She was leaving behind her old world—her father's lies, her mother's blood, the suffocating house of betrayal.
Whatever awaited her beyond this night, she had already vowed one thing: she would return one day. And when she did, those who had wronged her mother would learn what it meant to pay dearly.
"Done looking?" the young man asked, his eyes catching her reflection in the car window.
"No," Lin Hye Ji replied softly, not shying away from the guys steady and youthful face. Her gaze clung to it as though engraving every corner of his face into her memory. The guy pinched his nose as he fought back the blush that almost appeared on his face.
"Do you want to ask any questions?" he tried again, his tone light, almost coaxing.
Lin Hye Ji shook her head, lips pressed firmly together. She would not waste words.
"There was a CCTV at home," she murmured after a pause, more like a thought slipping out than a question.
"It's been taken care of." The young man extended his hand toward her, his lips curving faintly. "Mo Chen. Over there—" he nodded at the driver, whose calm eyes met hers briefly through the rearview mirror, "—is Mo Lee."
Mo Lee only gave her a side glance before re his gaze to the road.
Lin Hye Ji glanced at the hand, then placed her small palm into his with surprising steadiness. "Mo Hye Ji."
Mo Chen's brows lifted in surprise, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. Their master had given strict instructions: from the moment she stepped into the car, she was to be addressed as Mo. Yet the little girl had already declared it herself, severing the last tie to the Lin name. This little girl was really interesting but_how deep must her disappointment run—how sharp the wound from her father—that she so readily abandoned him to embrace her mother's bloodline?
"Welcome on board, Miss Mo," Mo Chen said warmly, releasing her hand with a small bow of respect.
Lin Hye Ji nodded in quiet approval, her face solemn. She turned back to the window, watching as the grand Lin mansion shrank into the distance. The glow of its lights dimmed, swallowed by the night, until it was nothing more than a memory.
As far as she was concerned, Lin Hye Ji had died alongside her mother that day. What remained was Mo Hye Ji—cold, resolute, and unwilling to forgive. And a heart that will be back to seek revenge.
Back at the gates, the security guard suddenly jolted awake, eyes wide with confusion. He glanced around, heart hammering, unable to remember when he had drifted off. Muttering under his breath, he rubbed his face roughly and hurried to pour himself a strong cup of coffee to keep himself awake.