Lin Yuxi stood before her own grave. Yes—she was standing there as a soul, looking at the tomb that bore her name.
Staring at the inscription, her expression hovered between laughter and tears. She wanted to cry for her tragic life, yet laugh at her own foolishness.
She had never imagined that such a cliché—her husband and his mistress joining forces to kill the legal wife—would actually happen to her.
Chen Siqi wasn’t her best friend, but she had been her secretary. Lin Yuxi had treated them both so well, yet they had conspired to kill her.
Before she died, she asked them why.
The man she had loved for twenty years looked at her with nothing but contempt and said:
“If I hadn’t discovered that you had that spatial ability, I would never have married you in the first place.
If your space could be taken by others, I wouldn’t have pretended to stay with you all these years.
Now that the wealth you created is enough for us to spend for several lifetimes, you’re no longer useful. I can’t let my children live their whole lives as illegitimate, can I?”
She was stunned. Wasn’t he incapable…?
At that moment, her secretary—whom she had believed to be her husband’s cousin—sneered from the side.
“You don’t still think he’s incapable, do you?”
“Your husband is perfectly fine. He just doesn’t work with you. How stupid do you have to be to believe everything he says?”
“He told you I was his cousin, and you believed it—never doubting for all these years, even taking such good care of me.”
“Let me tell you the truth so you can die knowing: I’m not his cousin at all. Our son is already twenty and in college.”
“Our daughter is seventeen and in high school. You’ve lived like a widow for twenty years for him—what exactly did you gain?”
“What has he ever given you? How many days a year did he even stay at your house? He said he was doing research, and you believed him?”
“He’s just an ordinary high school teacher—what research could he possibly be doing? The money you gave him for ‘research’ all went to me and the kids.”
“Do you know how you ended up like this? That anti-aging medicine he gave you every day—it was actually slow poison.”
“He said he wanted you to stay forever young and beautiful, and you happily took it on time every single day. Those drugs were bought overseas with your money.”
“Now that you’re dead, the doctors will only say you died of heart failure. And once you’re gone, your company and your money—all of it becomes ours.”
“And don’t just blame others. You ended up like this because you were too stupid. You practically killed yourself with your own stupidity.”
Seeing Lin Yuxi frozen in shock, she added with a mocking laugh:
“There’s one more thing you probably don’t know—you’re not even your current parents’ biological child.”
“Their real child is living a good life with your biological parents, married into a good family.”
“Back before you got married, your real parents actually sent people to find you. We bribed them and had them report that you had died as a child.”
“Your biological parents believed it—and never came looking for you again.”
Disbelief, rage, unwillingness—countless emotions surged through Lin Yuxi’s mind. But a sharp pain struck her heart, and her consciousness slowly faded away.
When she woke again, she had become what she was now—a ghost who could see others, but whom no one could see.
She watched her husband weep bitterly in front of the guests, acting as though he were heartbroken to the point of collapse. The sight filled her with bitter irony.
Yet when no outsiders were around—when it was just him and Chen Siqi—there wasn’t a trace of sorrow on his face. As they spoke about their future, they were full of excitement and joy.
For the first time, she saw the man clearly: one face for the public, another in private.
His acting skills were truly impressive. It was a pity he hadn’t become an actor.
She watched as guests came to pay their respects. The parents she had believed to be honest and loving—her adoptive parents, as Chen Siqi had called them—also arrived.
But they weren’t there to seek justice for her death.
They were there to fight over her inheritance.
Her scumbag husband even produced a will, stating that all her property belonged to him.
She remembered clearly—she had never written any will. It was obviously forged. Seeing the faint smugness in his eyes, she burned with rage, yet could do nothing.
Her “parents” cursed and stormed off, never once asking how she had died, nor shedding a single tear for her.
Hadn’t they already taken enough from her?
The three-story house in the village—she had paid for it. The only one of its kind there.
The car at home—she bought it, costing over 500,000 yuan, the most expensive in the village.
She paid for her younger brother’s wedding, even the money for changing how his wife addressed their parents.
Everything they wore, everything they used—she had bought it all.
Even the utility bills were under her name. Whenever payments were due, they came to her.
And yet, it still wasn’t enough?
Some people cry their hearts out when a pet dies—but she wasn’t even worth as much as a cat or a dog? Not a single person shed a genuine tear for her.
Even now, her tombstone bore no title, no signature—just the words: “The Tomb of Lin Yuxi.”
After all those years of devotion, she didn’t even earn the word “wife” on her grave.
How pitiful.
About half a month before their wedding, that scumbag Xu Jinghua had someone tell her he’d been robbed and injured, and was in the hospital.
She rushed there in panic. He told her he couldn’t marry her anymore.
Of course she was anxious—the wedding date had already been set, and relatives had been notified.
More importantly—she loved him. How could she not marry him?
He hesitated before telling her that he had been injured “there,” and the doctor said he would no longer be able to live as a husband and wife. He didn’t want to hold her back.
She still remembered how he cried like a child. Who would have thought his acting was already that good back then?
Blinded by his sweet words, how could she possibly leave him at that moment?
She immediately declared that as long as she could be with him, she didn’t care about anything—no marital intimacy, no children for a lifetime.
She had even been moved by her own “great love.”
Naturally, he acted deeply moved as well.
But now, it was all revealed to be part of his scheme. Even on their wedding night, he hadn’t stayed with her.
Back then, she had comforted herself, making excuses for him—thinking he couldn’t face her because he couldn’t fulfill his role as a husband.
How foolish she had been.
If what Chen Siqi said was true, their son was already twenty. That meant, at that time, Chen Siqi must have been close to giving birth.
He hadn’t been hiding—he had gone to be with her.
After marriage, he often claimed to be depressed. Later, he said he was doing research in the school lab with colleagues and had found purpose in it.
He kept asking her for money—research funding, he said.
He asked, and she gave.
She never expected him to actually produce any results. As long as he was happy, that was enough.
But in the end—it was all a lie.
At that moment, the sound of footsteps interrupted her thoughts.
She looked up.
A middle-aged man stood before her grave, staring silently at the tombstone for a long time.
That person… could it be… him?