Qu He’s body went completely rigid.
She felt a chill rise from the soles of her feet, shooting straight to the top of her head, freezing every drop of blood and every nerve in her body.
Qian Zhaoye… what did he just say?
Qu He slowly raised her head, looking at the face so close to hers—the face she had loved for seven years.
On this most familiar face, at this moment, there was a self-satisfied smile and a brazen, appraising gaze, as if he were conducting an “aesthetic makeover” of her.
Disappointment.
It was endless disappointment.
Stop wearing the same old boring business attire?
Wear pretty dresses instead?
So he’d find her more pleasing to the eye?
Every word he spoke turned into a poison-tipped blade, stabbing viciously into her chest.
Qu He parted her lips, but it felt like a breath was trapped in her chest, and she couldn’t make a sound.
All she could do was scream silently in her heart!
Did I naturally love wearing the “boring” business attire you speak of?
Did I not want to wear pretty dresses?
Qian Zhaoye… have you forgotten?
Over the past five years, countless times I wore high heels and business attire to accompany you at late-night social engagements. Back then, you said: “A He is amazing, dressed like a queen—no one dares to underestimate you!”
And now…
You use a flippant tone, a condescending attitude, to criticize me over and over for being frumpy, for not being pretty enough, and you even demand I wear dresses to please you!
This is the cruelest, most absurd joke under heaven!
Qian Zhaoye, do you even have a heart!
Qu He looked at the hypocritical smile on his face and felt nothing but disgust!
In normal times, Qian Zhaoye would have noticed something was off with Qu He’s mood, but right now his mind was entirely occupied by that scene at the bridal shop.
He lifted Qu He’s chin and leaned in: “A He, I want you…”
Qu He felt a chill run through her entire body. His breath on her face felt like a venomous snake slithering through her.
She jerked her head away and hurled the flowers back into his chest. The sudden motion made Qian Zhaoye stumble back a step.
“I’m going to the bathroom.”
Qian Zhaoye was baffled by her reaction. No man would take kindly to being interrupted at a moment like this—anger flashed across his face, but he quickly replaced it with an indulgent smile.
He rubbed Qu He’s shoulder. “Alright, I’ll wait for you in the bedroom.”
Qu He practically fled into the bathroom. After locking the door behind her, she braced both hands on the sink, gasping for air.
She turned on the tap and let the water rush over her hands, scrubbing her skin vigorously—but no matter how hard she rubbed, she couldn’t wash away the sensation of Qian Zhaoye’s touch on her body.
His scent, his caress, his hypocrisy…
The mirror reflected her pallid face. At some point, she had bitten her lip so hard that a deep bloody mark had formed.
What was she supposed to do?
Just then, out of the corner of her eye, Qu He caught a glimpse of something black and out of place peeking out from beneath the mirrored cabinet.
A sense of foreboding surged through her.
She instinctively held her breath, reached out with trembling hands, and slowly opened the mirrored cabinet door.
Behind the door was a pair of black stockings crumpled into a ball.
A tear ran from the thigh area—a tear that carried an unmistakable implication of lust!
Qu He’s mind went blank with a deafening buzz!
These stockings weren’t hers!
She never wore this style!
But this wedding home—besides her, only one other person had a key!
Qu He clutched the stockings in a death grip, panting heavily, her chest heaving violently, her heart feeling like it was being torn apart by something.
Qian Zhaoye! He had brought Qiao Mian here!
“A He, from now on, you are the only mistress of this house!” Three years ago, Qian Zhaoye had knelt on one knee and placed the key in her palm—the scene was still vivid in her mind.
But now, those so-called vows of eternal love had become the most vicious curse in the world!
Qian Zhaoye had betrayed their love and trampled on her dignity.
He had brought another woman to their wedding home!
To this home she had carefully decorated, watching it come together piece by piece!
Where had they done it?
On the wool carpet in the living room that she had personally picked out? The place where Qian Zhaoye had once held her and said they’d watch movies together for a lifetime.
Or on the marble countertop in the kitchen? The place where he had clumsily cooked her a bowl of birthday noodles with eggs.
Or… on that wedding bed they had chosen together?
The bed where she had imagined countless times they would hold each other in sleep and nurture new life together.
Her stomach churned violently. Qu He could no longer suppress the nausea and leaned over the sink, dry heaving.
But nothing came up except stomach acid…
Bitterness burned her throat.
So dirty!
This house was so dirty!
The air was so dirty!
Everything they had touched was so dirty!
Everything was so dirty!
Qu He flung the stockings away as if they had burned her.
Her body stumbled backward uncontrollably until her back slammed hard against the bathroom door.
That video of him and Qiao Mian in the car…
Those black stockings, so provocative, so glaringly obvious…
Scene after scene flashed and spun before her eyes.
Qu He’s eyes were as hollow as a dried-up well that had been parched for a thousand years, endless nausea and humiliation enveloping her tightly.
When her gaze focused on the black stockings on the floor, she stumbled over to the mirror cabinet and rummaged through a pile of items to find a pair of scissors.
Without hesitation, she grabbed the scissors and picked up the revolting black stockings again, her hands trembling violently.
The scissors came down hard, producing a harsh tearing sound.
Again and again, Qu He didn’t stop her movements.
As if by doing this, she could erase everything they had left behind in this house.
Tears blurred her vision, bitterness mixed with despair and pain.
As if venting, she hurled the scissors along with the black stockings fiercely away.
A sharp pain shot through her fingertips.
Her left index finger was cut open, bright red beads of blood seeping out uncontrollably, dripping onto the cream-colored ceramic tiles.
The pain and blood brought her clarity, but the bone-chilling cold lingered on.
Just then, a knock came at the door.
Qian Zhaoye’s feigned gentle voice came through the door panel, tinged with impatience and lustful urging: “Baby, are you done? Don’t make me wait too long…”
That voice was like a bucket of boiling oil poured over Qu He’s heart.
Such words, such scenes—in the days she never knew about, they had already happened a thousand times over.
How foolishly she had been deceived!
In that instant, all the pain, despair, and anger were ignited.
This was her fiancé…
This was the man she had loved for seven years…
This was what she thought was “one of a kind”…
What was she supposed to do?
Her seven years of youth, her best seven years—who would compensate her for that?
Who would save her…
Qu He stared at the scissors on the tiles not far away. She slowly shuffled over, bent down, and gripped the scissors again.
The cold metal handle gave her an inexplicable sense of comfort.
She stood up and walked step by step toward that door, which separated her from hypocrisy and lies.
Even through the door panel, Qu He could imagine the fake smile on his face.
The tip of the scissors was already pressed against the door panel, right where Qian Zhaoye’s heart would be on the other side.
Her knuckles gripping the scissors gradually turned white, a maddening thought screaming wildly in her mind.
Use these scissors to stab straight into Qian Zhaoye’s heart!
See what color his heart really is.
Is it red, or has it long been corroded by lies and betrayal, turned black like rotten mud!
The air was terrifyingly still, leaving only her rapid, suppressed breathing and the man’s knocking sounding again from outside the door.
After a long while, Qu He slowly gripped the door handle…