Her first time was taken from her after being drugged by Yuezun, who pinned her against the piano stand and subjected her to every form of humiliation. Yet after watching her suffer through the torment, he withdrew, leaving her intact.
She had her dignity; she refused to yield. But what was fate? Fate was a spinning wheel in the hands of the wealthy—whatever game they chose to play, she had no choice but to play along until the end.
Mo Shengxiao had no choice but to obediently offer her virginity to him. His demands regarding sex bordered on perverse cruelty.
When he wanted her, she could only submit, allowing him to use and manipulate her at will.
The marriage cost her nearly the use of her right hand, robbing her forever of the ability to touch a piano.
After leaving Yuezun, she scraped by in a miserable existence. Another man, however, accepted all her flaws and offered to be her other hand.
Unexpectedly, Yuezun reappeared in his cruel guise, shattering her fabricated happiness. He disrupted her wedding, thrusting her before the crowd to humiliate her.
"Mo Shengxiao, no woman I've played with gets to marry another. You left my bed, yet you dare climb into someone else's?"
This time, he forced her to bare herself once more.
"Shengxiao, our bodies still understand each other best. After all this time, you still make me so aroused."
Yet he didn't know her heart had grown cold and died.
His obsession stemmed solely from the physical connection they'd once shared, which had left him deeply addicted.
If this body were damaged beyond repair, Yuezun, would you still cling to me like this?
She pulled out a sharp blade and, before his eyes, carved into her own flesh, stroke by stroke...
If only life were like the first encounter. Were it not for this bone-chilling despair, I would never treat myself this way.
01 Ripping Pain
It was common knowledge that Yue Zun had recently become infatuated with another female student.
A preference for the young and tender—such is this man's peculiar taste.
Mo Shengxiao was jolted awake by a flash of lightning. When she opened her eyes, all she could see through the vast floor-to-ceiling windows was the sky fractured into jagged pieces. The swaying tree shadows suddenly contorted into clawing, menacing forms, utterly terrifying.
A fierce wind howled, rattling the windowpanes violently, as if the glass itself might shatter.
Shengxiao instinctively reached beside her. Beyond the luxurious coolness of the silk sheets, there was no warmth at all. Yuezun hadn't returned.
She sat up, clutching the quilt. Another fierce flash of lightning illuminated her pale face reflected in the dressing mirror across the room. Her hair hung wildly, making her look like a ghost. She ran her fingers through it absentmindedly, bare feet touching the uneven floor tiles, slightly cool. The window hadn't been closed properly, and a fine rain was already seeping through the cracks, determined to get inside.
She stepped out of the room and onto the balcony just as Yuezun was pulling the car into the garage. Mo Shengxiao turned back toward the bedroom, her feet damp and cold. When she touched the quilt, a large wet spot immediately spread across it.
Soon after, the sound of a door handle turning echoed through the empty house. Instantly, the harsh glare of the crystal chandelier flooded the room. The man seemed startled by her appearance. "Still awake?"
He approached the bed, his expression weary. After loosening his tie, he slipped off his dark shirt. This man always maintained a robust, sensual physique. Sitting with his back to Shengxiao, the position allowed her to see several distinct scratch marks across Yuezun's back—unashamed, brazenly displayed.
The discarded shirt still carried that faint scent of orchid perfume. This fragrance had become a frequent presence on him lately, unlike the heavier scents he'd worn before. Perhaps it was just as the outside world claimed—that woman, like her back then, was still just a student.
"Let's get a divorce."
The man's body, which had been rising to stand, stiffened. His spine straightened, and the air around them thickened with tension.
Mo Shengxiao's legs emerged from beneath the black-and-white quilt. The bed was terrifyingly large—too big even for two people, let alone her petite frame.
"Divorce? Mo Shengxiao, did I knock some sense out of you last night?" His tone was cold and detached. Then, his index finger lightly brushed her lips. The earlier indifference in his eyes had vanished, replaced by a wild, sharp intensity.
She grasped his hand. His fingers, tattooed with a blue dragon, were already pinching her jaw tightly. "You love novelty and excitement, don't you? There are plenty of younger women out there. I don't want to waste my time anymore."
"You didn't say that when we got married, Shengxiao..." His voice suddenly dropped. "You should know I never loved you. You married me just to live above others. We each got what we wanted. Now you want to walk away? Don't you think it's a pity?"
Perhaps, when there's no love, it truly feels like a pity.
When she awoke in the double bed, she lay alone, yet his steady, deep breathing lingered. That feeling—he would never understand it.
"I want a divorce." He knew even less that every word she uttered felt like a knife twisting in her heart, pain so intense it felt like every bone in her body was shattering.
"Don't even think about it," the man roared, his hands clamping down on her shoulders as he yanked her upright. "For now, I still need you to be Mrs. Yu."
"I don't want it. I don't care about it. I'll give it all back to you today..." Mo Shengxiao struggled desperately to break free, strands of hair falling across her face like a complete shrew. When he had cherished her, she had even mistaken it for deep love. But this man's heart could retract at will, without even granting a moment to adjust.
Yu Zun was clearly enraged. In his eyes, Mo Shengxiao had always been the most sensible. He grabbed her shoulders and dragged her to the open window ledge. Her steps couldn't keep up with his, causing her to stumble and even lose one of her slippers.
"Let go of me!"
Her entire body was pressed against the window sill, her waist against the cold, hard marble. Shengxiao clutched his arms as a vintage table lamp behind the beige curtains shattered into pieces during their struggle. They had bought it together during their honeymoon.
"If anyone should mention divorce, it won't be you."
"Yuezun, what do you want? You know how many women you have on the side. I don't want to be chained to you..."
His eyes darkened, his gaze turning heavy. He seized her wrists and slammed them hard against the windowsill.
"Aah—"
The searing pain in her veins tore at her heart. Warm blood spurted out thickly. She struggled harder—her hands were meant for playing the qin.
"No, let me go..." Mo Shengxiao tried to bend her right hand, only to find her fingers already numb, as if detached from her palm. "It hurts... it hurts so much..."
Yuezun clearly saw it too, but he didn't stop. Shards of the lamp had already pierced her wrists. She was terrified, unsure if her hands would be crippled forever. If she could ever escape, these hands were all she had to rely on.
The windowsill lay in shambles. Lightning rolled across the sky as the man pounced on her like a vicious wolf. No matter how wretched her plight, Yue Zun took her.
And it was brutal, like torture—he vowed to tear apart her pitiful frailty with his powerful strength. The pain from her wrists began to spread, not just to her lower body, but every nerve ached. Blood dripped from her veins onto the stone floor, smeared and rubbed by the man's wild thrusts...
She shrieked, "My hand! My hand..."
Such piercing agony, such unbearable torment, yet it only heightened the man's pleasure.
After cleaning himself and changing into fresh clothes, he simply left Mo Shengxiao behind. Her waist felt snapped, her upper body slumped over the windowsill, her underwear dangling from her right ankle. Only when the sound of a car engine started below did Shengxiao jolt awake. With great effort, she crawled up and frantically wrapped her wrists with the torn remnants of her nightgown. Unable to drive, she braved the thunderstorm to hail a taxi. By the time she reached the hospital, dawn was breaking.
The price she paid for demanding divorce was a scar stitched with twelve stitches on her hand—and the likely loss of her ability to ever play the piano again.
Mo Shengxiao walked the streets in a daze, her white dress resembling a pure snow lotus—one that had withered before it could bloom.
Returning to Imperial Heritage, she heard the melodious strains of a piano before even entering.
She crossed the garden and opened the door, only to see a woman standing with her back to her. Long hair cascaded over her shoulders, and she wore a simple white dress—Chanel's limited-edition new release for the season. Her husband stood beside the piano, sipping fine wine with a smile on his lips.
Hearing the sound, the woman turned, revealing an exceptionally youthful face. "Senior."
He had brought her back after all.
The woman rose gracefully, her gaze lingering on Shengxiao's right hand, wrapped in gauze. A smile flashed in her eyes. "I heard from people at school that you play the piano better than anyone else, unmatched to this day. I never believed it, nor accepted it. I wonder if I'll have the honor today?"