In my whole life, there was nothing I truly liked.
Except you.
—Shen Jin
Jiangcheng, April.
The grass grows and orioles fly, the warmth of spring still tinged with lingering chill.
In a corner of the bustling city, inside a mansion, light and shadow dappled, silent and still.
“Shen Jin, I’m begging you, let me go…”
Su Xiahe’s voice was as faint as a mosquito’s buzz, tears sliding silently down her face.
Her body was limp, like a puppet whose soul had been drained dry.
The man’s face was dark and grim, his beautiful eyes flickering with barely suppressed rage and desire.
He closed in on her, his fingers gripping her delicate chin, his cold, thin lips brushing across her icy cheek as he gently kissed away her tears.
“What? Already tired of my body? Want to go sleep with another man?”
Su Xiahe turned her face away, offering no explanation.
She knew that no matter how she explained, he wouldn’t listen.
She only begged weakly, “Please, let me go…”
The woman’s soft pleas did not earn the man’s mercy—instead, they drove him even more frantic.
The rough palms gripping her slender waist tightened more and more, almost snapping it in two.
He grabbed her black hair, ruthlessly pinning her knees down, his movements urgent and brutal:
“Say it! Do you still dare to betray your brother again?!”
Su Xiahe’s vision blurred, as if she were being pushed into an endless abyss.
Suffocating.
Her soul seemed to be slowly draining away.
Was she… about to die?
Finally… she was going to leave this mad dog.
Su Xiahe closed her eyes, giving up the struggle. Her head drooped limply onto the man’s shoulder, her breath growing faint.
The man’s fury was ignited once more by something unknown.
“Can’t you fucking give me some reaction?!”
The woman’s head hung on his shoulder, utterly still, like a lifeless doll.
Sensing something wrong, the man immediately pulled her into his arms, holding her like a cherished doll.
He cradled her deathly pale face, his voice trembling slightly: “Ahe, don’t die.”
Su Xiahe smiled faintly, coldly.
For three years, she had been subjected to Shen Jin’s intense, pathological control, possessiveness, and imprisonment.
She lived worse than a dog, every second suffocating.
And now, she was going to die in that mad dog’s cage.
Su Xiahe’s despairing gaze fell on the man’s face, her eyes misty and blurred, unable to see him clearly.
She gritted her teeth and forced out the words:
“Shen Jin, I was blind back then, deceived by your hypocrisy and gentleness. You’re nothing but a twisted pervert…”
If there’s a next life, I only pray—don’t fucking let me meet you again…
The words she most wanted to say were already too late.
She closed her eyes as she wished, her body going limp and sagging, no longer moving.
The man’s body jolted violently, and he let out an uncontrolled roar:
“Su Xiahe, I never agreed to let you die! Get up!”
He shook the woman’s body frantically, but she was like a broken, discarded doll, utterly lifeless.
“Su Xiahe, without my permission, you’re not allowed to die.”
“If you dare to die, I’ll personally kill that bastard Fang Yubai.”
“I’ll make sure he dies without a complete corpse, not even ashes left…”
“Do you hear me?!”
The woman’s body gradually grew cold, her torn clothes slipping to the floor.
The man frantically buried his head in the cold hollow of her neck, his expression stiff, his voice hoarse.
“Ahe, I haven’t had my fill of you yet. How dare you die? Get up, don’t die…”
“Ahe, don’t leave me…”
The man finally collapsed to the floor, his face blank with shock.
There was no overwhelming grief of losing a loved one on his face—only the bewilderment of losing a cherished possession.
During the three years of imprisonment under Shen Jin, Su Xiahe had tried ten thousand ways to die.
Every time she failed, that mad dog would pin her against the wall.
He’d whisper in her ear, in that threatening, unyielding tone of his:
“Ahe, don’t think about dying. In this life, you can only die on my body.”
And now, I’ve finally died on your body.
Shen Jin, are you satisfied?
Su Xiahe’s consciousness returned.
She found herself standing in the dressing room of the Jiangcheng Theater.
She looked down at her phone—the time on the screen was actually three years ago.
The memories of her past life came flooding back, and she felt the dampness at the corners of her eyes.
Shen Jin.
Do you believe in fate?
Look, do good deeds, and the heavens really do see.
Not like you—rotten to the core, inside and out.
After I die, will the heavens punish you too?
At that thought, Su Xiahe smiled.
Now, she had been reborn three years into the past.
That year, she was twenty, a sophomore at Jiangcheng University.
In her previous life, it was on this very day that she met that pervert who would haunt her for the rest of her life.
In this life, she had to firmly grasp her own destiny and never let that madman torture her to death again.
And the first thing she needed to do right now was leave this place immediately!!
She absolutely could not go on stage to perform like she had in her previous life, absolutely could not let herself appear in that pervert’s line of sight.
On stage, the host’s words came to an end, and the performance officially began.
Su Xiahe’s gaze locked on the dressing room door for two seconds. After those two seconds, she grabbed her bag and rushed toward the door without a second thought.
However, the next moment—
Someone shouted, “Running that fast, don’t you want to live?”
Just as Su Xiahe’s body rushed through the doorway, her head slammed into a steel plate coming from the opposite direction.
The violent impact left her dizzy, her vision going completely black.
“Miss, are you alright?”
The worker carrying the steel plate asked with an anxious expression.
It took a long moment before Su Xiahe recovered, gently waving her hand. “I’m fine.”
“Do you need to go to the hospital?”
Su Xiahe forced a smile. “No need, I’m fine.”
Seeing that she had regained her senses and seemed to be out of danger, the worker left.
Su Xiahe snapped back to reality.
Where was she trying to go? Why was she rushing out so recklessly?
In a daze, she felt like… she had forgotten something.
“Xiahe.” Someone called her name.
Su Xiahe turned around and met a delicate face. “Senior brother.”
“There are still three acts before yours. Are you…” Fang Yubai noticed she was holding her bag and still leaning by the dressing room door, pondering, “going out?”
Su Xiahe: “…?” Was she going out? She didn’t know.
Fang Yubai handed her a box. “This is your performance outfit. Hurry and change into it.”
“…Oh, alright.”
Su Xiahe belatedly took the box and headed toward the changing room.
The teacher originally scheduled to perform a pipa recital on stage tonight had suddenly become unavailable, so Su Xiahe had agreed to Fang Yubai’s request—to fill in at the theater.
Fang Yubai was the head of the performance department at Jiangcheng Theater, responsible for program arrangements.
The performance outfit was a qipao custom-made for the original performing teacher’s figure.
But now, worn by Su Xiahe, it fit surprisingly perfectly, as if it had been tailored just for her.
After changing into the outfit, Su Xiahe returned to the dressing room.
Fang Yubai looked at the dressed-up Su Xiahe and nodded with satisfaction. “The qipao suits you very well. I look forward to your performance later.”
Su Xiahe nodded. “Thank you, senior brother.”
Three minutes later, Su Xiahe walked slowly onto the stage, cradling a pipa.
At the center of the stage, under the spotlight.
A young woman in a dark cyan fitted qipao sat gracefully on a stool, playing “Zhaojun Departs the Frontier” with deep emotion, radiating exceptional elegance.
The pipa’s sound was like a shooting star streaking across the night sky, as light as falling petals, as melodious as birdsong.
The qipao beauty on stage kept her eyes lowered, vividly telling the audience through her music of Wang Zhaojun’s determination to bring unity to the Xiongnu.
Without a doubt, she was absolutely the most dazzling focus of the entire venue.
The piece ended.
Su Xiahe rose and bowed in gratitude.
A wave of enthusiastic applause came from the audience.
However—
Beneath the applause, no one knew.
From the moment she stepped on stage, a pair of dark, deep eyes in the audience had been staring at her without blinking.
That gaze, excessively infatuated and burning, had long surpassed the ordinary appreciation one might feel for something admired.
It carried a wild ambition of determination to possess.
The gears of fate turned serenely, meshing together, tightening ever more.
Bizarrely terrifying.
Reading Guide:
This story features both leads with clean romantic histories. The male lead is a yandere in the early stages—a madman. Though he’s crazy and wicked, he has moral integrity and will absolutely never lay a hand on the female lead in violence.
This is of utmost importance!
Because I myself can’t stand stories with domestic violence, I naturally won’t allow myself to write that kind of story.
The female lead isn’t a strong woman, but she’s not weak either—she’s clear-headed about the world.
As for the later parts… no spoilers.
In short, this isn’t a tragedy—it’s a sweet yandere romance where you find sugar among the broken glass shards.