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Chapter 48 — Shadows and Whispers (with Tianhao's help)
The first bell had barely rung when I felt it — the shift in the classroom, a new presence. A boy had entered. Tall, sharp-featured, calm, with quiet confidence that made heads turn. Whispers followed him like shadows: new transfer, handsome, mysterious…
He sat down next to me. His name, I later learned, was Chen Tianhao. My heart thudded as he looked my way briefly, nodding with a faint, polite smile.
That was all it took.
Xu Feiyan's eyes narrowed. Chen Shuyin tilted her head, Li Nuan smirked. Zhao Mingkai leaned back like predators savoring the hunt. Their target had shifted — suddenly, I wasn't just "Meili the useless heiress" — I was "Meili daring to sit next to the handsome boy."
"Look at that," Feiyan whispered, loud enough for half the class to hear. "Our quiet little Meili, trying to make friends? How… ambitious."
Chen Tianhao didn't flinch. He quietly placed his notebook between us, blocking Shuyin's pen from flicking across my desk. His presence alone gave me a flicker of relief, a small shield I hadn't realized I craved.
I wanted to shrink into my chair, disappear completely, but Tianhao's calm steadied me. When Shuyin nudged my notebook, he caught it before it fell. His eyes met mine briefly — not pitying, not judging — and for the first time that day, I felt a fraction of safety.
Feiyan leaned closer, voice dripping venom. "Don't get too comfortable, Meili. Who do you think you're impressing? Tianhao?"
I wanted to sink into the floor. But Tianhao leaned slightly closer, a subtle barrier, as if to say: I've got you. I didn't have to speak. I didn't have to fight. Not yet.
Shuyin flicked a pen across the desk, narrowly missing my hand, but Tianhao shifted, and it bounced harmlessly onto the floor. Li Nuan huffed in annoyance. The laughter continued, but somehow, it felt less suffocating.
I closed my eyes for a moment, counting my breaths, recalling the six times I had nearly puked from being shoved outside. I had survived worse. And now, with Tianhao's quiet support beside me, I survived again.
The bell finally rang, cutting through the classroom like a knife. Feiyan and the others muttered parting words I could barely hear: useless, clumsy, pathetic. Tianhao gave me a small nod, a silent acknowledgment: You made it through.
I straightened, body trembling, stomach churning, limbs weak, but inside, I whispered my usual vow:
I am not clumsy.
I am not useless.
I am Luna.
And one day, every insult, every shove, every mocking laugh… will return to them.
Outside the classroom, I exhaled. Tianhao walked a few steps with me, his presence a quiet anchor, unassuming but steady. I didn't speak. I didn't need to. Just knowing someone saw me — truly saw me, not with judgment or cruelty — made the day slightly less unbearable.
I made my way home, body aching, bruises already throbbing faintly. My uniform damp, hair plastered to my neck, stomach sour. Yet, I walked. Slowly. Carefully. Determined.
Because I had survived worse.
Because I survived this.
Because I am Luna.
And tomorrow, I would rise again.
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Chapter 46 — Homecoming in Shadows
The door clicked softly behind me, and for the first time today, silence wrapped around my shoulders like a fragile blanket. My shoes were soaked, my uniform plastered to my skin, and every muscle in my body ached from the day's torment. Xu Feiyan, Chen Shuyin, and the others had pushed me, shoved me, whispered cruel things in every corner of the schoolyard — I had nearly collapsed six times, stomach churning, head spinning — but somehow, I had made it home early. Today, there would be no punishments from Wei Jun, no scolding from my mother, no mocking from my cousins.
I leaned against the doorframe, shivering slightly, letting the quiet settle. The hallway smelled faintly of incense and cold tiles, and I almost wished someone would notice how broken I felt, how tired I was. But no one did. My family was always elsewhere, watching, judging, commenting — never comforting.
From the living room, I heard the faint hum of my cousins' chatter, Li Nuan and Li Hao laughing quietly. Not at me, thankfully, at least not today. My grandmother, Zhao Lifen, sat silently in her chair, eyes sharp but unreadable. She didn't rise. She didn't speak. She simply existed, a quiet witness to my life, as if waiting for me to fail in some grand gesture.
My mother, Chen Ying, glanced my way, lips pressed in a thin line. She said nothing, only arched an eyebrow — a silent question, a silent expectation, as if to measure my failure without speaking.
I let myself exhale, fully and shakily, sinking to the floor near the staircase. My back ached, my arms trembled, and my hair clung to my damp skin. The bruises from the bullies were faint but throbbing, reminders that the day had been long and cruel. My stomach still churned from the fear and the force of their shoves and kicks.
Li Hao peeked from behind the railing, curiosity in his eyes. "You're home early today," he said quietly, almost a whisper. There was no teasing in his voice. Just observation.
"Yes," I murmured, my voice hoarse, barely audible. "I… made it early."
The words sounded strange in my own ears, almost like a victory. Early arrival meant no further punishments today, no sharp words, no cold hands, no enforced kneeling. That tiny flicker of relief warmed me more than I expected.
I let myself curl into a corner, hugging my knees to my chest. My body ached, my bruises throbbed, and every breath reminded me how pitifully exhausted I was. My uniform was wet, my hair stuck to my face, and my hands still shook slightly from the day's relentless tension.
Dinner was a quiet storm. The table was bright, the dishes steaming, but the air around me was heavy, weighted with judgment. My cousins talked and laughed, but their words occasionally drifted toward me, subtle, sharp, cutting.
Chen Ying, my mother, picked at my plate and finally frowned. "You've been eating too much lately, Meili," she said, her tone casual, as if it were an observation, not a condemnation. "You're getting fat. Don't eat so much. You should be careful."
Zhao Lifen, my grandmother, didn't lift a finger to stop her. Her eyes watched me silently, unreadable.
Li Nuan snorted quietly. "She really shouldn't be eating that," she said, almost giggling. "She'll ruin her figure if she keeps this up."
Even my younger brother, Li Hao, leaned forward, smirking slightly. "Yeah, maybe she should skip dessert today. Wouldn't want her to grow too… noticeable."
I kept my hands folded in my lap, my eyes downcast, my appetite gone. Every word felt like a knife, every glance like a weight pressing me into my chair. I picked at my food mechanically, chewing without tasting, swallowing without swallowing. My body trembled slightly, not from hunger, but from the ache of constant scrutiny, the sting of being measured and found lacking.
For a brief moment, I allowed myself to imagine leaving the table, escaping the quiet judgment. But of course, I stayed. I always stayed. I always endured.
By the time I excused myself, my plate untouched, my stomach a pit of anxiety and rejection, I felt hollow and exhausted. I slipped quietly into the hallway, the warmth of the evening pressing against the cold floor beneath my feet. My body ached, my bruises throbbed, my heart felt heavy, but at least tonight, I had escaped the punishments.
I curled into a corner of my room afterward, trembling, exhausted, yet still alive. My body was sore, my spirit tired, and my mind replayed every whispered insult, every judgmental glance from dinner.
Even when there was no beating, even when I had made it home early, the weight of my family's eyes, their words, their cold judgment was enough to leave me broken in pieces.
And still, deep inside, a small flame of resilience flickered. I had survived today. I had survived them all.
And tomorrow… I would rise again.
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If you want, I can continue this next chapter showing how the bullies escalate the torment outside school, keeping it emotionally brutal but still less graphic, and then Luna's struggle to maintain her inner shield.
Do you want me to write that next?
Got it — here's a continuation of Luna's POV, showing her forced engagement because her cousin disagreed, with all the first-person immersion, family cruelty, and her inner turmoil:
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Chapter 50 — Chains in Silk
The next morning, the living room smelled faintly of jasmine tea and polished wood, but the sweetness of it was a lie. I knew exactly what awaited me.
My cousin, Xiaoyun, had refused. She had complained to my grandmother, saying she did not want to attend to the engagement herself. And so, naturally, the responsibility fell to me.
"Lynette," my grandmother said, voice smooth but deadly, "since your cousin refuses, you will go in her place. You are the heiress. You must honor your family's wishes."
My stepfather, Zhao Qiang, leaned back in his chair, lips curling into a smile that chilled me to the bone. "It is not optional, Meili. You obey, or the consequences will be… unpleasant."
Even my mother, normally a silent observer when I suffered at home, pressed her words into me like iron. "You will go. You will agree. You will smile and nod. No excuses. You have no right to defy your elders, not in this house, not in this family."
I wanted to scream, to throw myself on the floor and refuse. But my voice had been beaten down over years, until it was nothing more than a whisper inside my own head. The words heiress, useless, obedient burned across every memory, every scar, every bruise I had earned from living in this house.
My younger brother Li Wei snickered as he poured tea. "Better you than me," he said, smearing a crumb into my sleeve as if testing my reaction.
Dinner passed with the same critiques as always — my weight, my posture, my "lack of charm." Each sentence, each glance, each laugh from the cousins, chipped away at me.
And yet… there was no beating this morning. No belt, no shove, no order to kneel. Perhaps they were saving that for the engagement itself. Perhaps they believed emotional chains could hurt as much as physical ones.
When I was finally dressed in the fine silk they forced me into — too bright, too tight, too beautiful — I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. Lin Meili, my Chinese name, was reflected back at me. Beautiful. But meaningless. Worthless. A mask for the world, a cage for my soul.
The groom, a boy with kind eyes but a limp, bowed politely as I approached. I did not move to speak. I did not lift a hand. The family cheered, clapped, and whispered. And I smiled when I was expected to, nodded when I was ordered to, and agreed when they told me to.
In the quiet recesses of my mind, however, I remembered every humiliation I had endured today, every bruise from yesterday, every laugh from my family that told me I was weak. I remembered Tianhao's eyes at school, the only warmth I had felt in days.
And I vowed, silently, that none of this — not the engagement, not the family, not the bullies, not the pain — would ever own me.
I was still Luna. I was still alive. And one day, these chains would fall.
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