Chapter 1

1.

I am an orphan, grew up in the orphanage, because I had to always pay attention to others' moods, I became very sensitive to their emotions.

The people in the orphanage were all sycophantic, naturally showing no kindness to a big kid like me who couldn't get adopted.

In order to study, I often took part-time jobs outside, fortunately, my spirit of perseverance and hard work did not let me down.

I successfully got into the local university, left the orphanage, and those were among the few carefree days I had in college.

I thought meeting Jason would change my life, heal my childhood, but little did I know he was the beginning of a tragedy.

Jason and I were together for a whole five years, both from poor families, earning through our own hard work, so our life values were quite compatible.

He is very down-to-earth, diligent about his work, never slacking off, except he has a troublesome mother, everything else I was satisfied with.

I recall the first time meeting Jason's mother, she pointed at my nose saying I was poor, not worthy of Jason.

That day I could hardly speak, Jason argued with his mom, but in the end, it was unresolved.

Outside Jason's house, Jason held my face saying he would definitely marry me, he cried, saying that's just how his mom is, how wronged you are, Jessica.

His mom strongly opposed our marriage, Jason risked getting beaten and stole the household register to get a marriage certificate with me.

After registering, that night we had hot pot, I remember the steam rising from the pot, the lights in the store warm and cozy.

Jason smiled and said we should move out, stay away from that old witch, and then have a child, whether it's a boy or girl, he'd love it.

So much so that later I always thought Jason disliked his mom too, wanted to live independently, thinking back now, I was so wrong.

It was like a trap, Jason and his mom wove a web, and I was like a bug caught in a spider's web, unable to escape once entangled.

Jason and I got our marriage certificate, went on a honeymoon, seeing the sights, used our savings and took a loan to buy a small house.

Bought a baby's crib, lying in Jason's arms, listening to him talk about our future, a child, a big dog, and the two of us, walking and sunbathing downstairs.

The warmth of family, something I could only dream of, being from the orphanage, I also wanted to be someone eagerly awaiting happiness.

So I excitedly started preparing for pregnancy, everything seemed perfect.

I also thought I'd get a happy ending like a fairy tale princess who marries a prince, but reality always hits hard.

I gave birth to a girl, in truth, whether boy or girl, I loved her, how could I not love my flesh and blood?

But Jason's mom took it out on me several times just because it was a girl, maybe she's just slightly sexist.

I patted Sweetie's back, Sweetie drank milk in my arms obediently, thinking when Sweetie grows up, grandma will love her.

I misjudged the evil of human nature, blinded by happiness.

Sweetie died, not even a year old, light in my arms, so soft and cuddly, I didn't even get to hear her say "Mommy, I love you," and she was gone.

The doctor told me it was an accident, I didn't believe it, I found the deleted family surveillance footage from Jason.

My mother-in-law was shoving big chunks of mango in Sweetie's mouth — Sweetie was allergic to mango!!

2.

On the day I gave birth, Jason and his mom were waiting outside the delivery room.

The labor was so painful, I don't remember how long it took, the doctors and nurses kept telling me to push, at the last moment of exhaustion.

A baby's cry burst from the delivery room, I knew Sweetie was born, skinny, small, skin covered in my blood, she wasn't pretty, but I loved her.

After ensuring Sweetie's safe birth, I closed my eyes from fatigue, seemingly hearing someone shouting in the ward.

Sounded like bad luck, "still not a boy," "doesn't matter if no dowry is needed," "moneyloser" or something, seemed like my mother-in-law's voice.

It was too noisy, I opened my eyes, Jason's face was gloomy, mother-in-law turned and left the room.

My lips were cracked, hadn't had water since giving birth, they didn't take care of me, Jason, clearly such a considerate person, maybe he forgot.

I propped myself up to sit, quietly called Jason over, he was holding a child.

It was Sweetie, the name we agreed on, I eagerly wanted to see Sweetie, but seeing me awake, Jason's face didn't clear up, it got even darker.

He shoved Sweetie into my arms, rushed out, leaving only his voice in the ward, "Mom called him out for something."

I couldn't wait to see Sweetie, didn't notice my husband's disdainful look, things went increasingly wrong from there.

It started when moving home from the hospital, Jason said he had to work overtime, told me to take a taxi home.

Later he stopped coming home every few days, saying his boss kept giving him more tasks, keeping him incredibly busy.

They say pregnancy makes you silly for three years, I was in confinement, focusing all on Sweetie, not very concerned about my mother-in-law and husband's oddities.

But sometimes the less attention you pay, the quicker things come to light.

Jason stopped coming home for dinner, working late into the night, often coming back drunk, reeking of alcohol, with a woman's perfume.

His increasingly late arrivals were matched by his increasingly nasty temper.

For instance, if the house wasn't clean, he'd only blame me for not tidying up since I didn't need to earn money.

But he didn't understand how Sweetie woke me up countless times every night, how I fainted from exhaustion while working at home with dark circles under my eyes.

He wasn't home, mother-in-law didn't come to help, sometimes he'd play with Sweetie enthusiastically, but as soon as I mentioned taking care of her, his face would change, and he'd curse at me.

Afterward, he'd hold me, in a painful voice saying it was his fault, he hadn't given me a good life, making me work so hard.

Those days repeated over and over, exhausting, long and terrifying, I thought I'd soon tire of his blaming-then-comforting play.

The scary thing is, I found myself getting used to it...

I started doing more and more chores, he cared less and less about home, depositing just a little money every month.

That day, like usual, at 2 AM, I was cleaning his clothes to wash, I saw a scarlet lipstick stain on his pristine white shirt.

For a moment, the lipstick stain seemed to mock me like a siren.

3.

The day Sweetie died, I wasn't home, I was buying groceries at the market.

Those days, Jason told me his mom wanted to stay with us for a few days, help take care of the child, make up for not caring for Sweetie much after her birth.

I found it very strange because my mother-in-law clearly disliked us before. During her first few days here, she acted normally, merely helping Sweetie with some tasks within her capability.

Her tone with me wasn't as harsh as usual, and even Jason Grant came home early those days to have dinner at home.

Sometimes, they'd stay up late discussing things on the sofa. When I brought them a fruit platter, I overheard them talking about relatives and didn't think much of it, heading to bed early.

Things happened on the third day. That morning, Jason Grant said he wanted to eat ribs and told me to go buy them immediately, asking me not to take Sweetie along as his mother would take care of her.

Just as I was hurrying back, I received a call from Jason Grant. In a weak yet furious tone, he told me Sweetie died.

The bag carrying the ribs scattered all over the ground, and I frantically ran home, desperately questioning on the phone why Sweetie would die.

He didn't say a word except to give me the hospital address, urging me to go quickly.

In the stark white hospital corridor, a doctor looked at me with a sympathetic gaze and pronounced the final communication—anaphylaxis, resuscitation failed.

How could this happen? I was only out for half an hour. How could Sweetie die from an allergy in just this half hour?

I was seething with anger while standing by Jason Grant, who gently patted my shoulder, his eyes fixed on the tips of his shoes, so I couldn't discern his expression clearly.

I then turned to look at my mother-in-law, whose gaze was evasive. As I mentioned before, because I'm an orphan, I can keenly sense others' emotions.

So when my mother-in-law was anxiously grabbing the doctor's white coat demanding compensation and accusing the hospital of killing her granddaughter, I detected that there were two words written all over her — hypocrisy.

On the way home, my mother-in-law and Jason Grant conversed. She apologized to me, full of regret, wiping her tears, saying she didn't take good care of Sweetie.

They must not have noticed my suspicious gaze then. I even viciously thought to myself, why wasn't it them who died, instead of Sweetie when they failed to take care of her?

Besides, how could Sweetie accidentally ingest allergenic food? I obviously informed my mother-in-law of Sweetie's allergens. Even my muddle-headed husband heard it nearby.

The car soon reached home. Perhaps due to the guilt over Sweetie's death, my mother-in-law prepared dinner that night.

After dinner, Jason Grant took my hand to our room for a heart-to-heart talk: "We'll have more children. You just need to contribute a little more to this family, right? Doesn't my mom care about you?"

Every word he spoke sent a chill through my heart. I had given so much to this family, only to lose my one and only beloved child.

Seeing I was being obstinate, refusing to accept the outcome, Jason Grant grew impatient too, merely saying "rest early" before heading to the living room, once again discussing who knows what with his mother.

I buried my head in the pillow, my tears soaking into it as I silently sobbed.

After a while, Jason Grant came in. Perhaps thinking I was asleep since I didn't move, he turned on the computer to operate the home surveillance footage.

I stared at him intensely, wishing to claw a piece of flesh off him. He was surely doing something unknown to me. I must find out the hidden truth!

4.

The next day when I woke up, there was nobody at home. It seemed my mother-in-law had left, and Jason Grant didn't want to act out this play with me anymore.

I had long since noticed his distraction, but for the sake of Sweetie, I was willing to do anything, endure grievances or demands.

The computer screen gradually lit up. I opened the interface that my husband had accessed yesterday; it was the surveillance footage interface.

What exactly did they do? My fingers felt as if they were under heavy pressure, stopping me from clicking on yesterday's surveillance.

I forcefully pressed the mouse, only to see a glaring message displayed on the computer: "No surveillance records."

Jason Grant deleted the surveillance footage. I'm not a fool; something definitely went wrong yesterday!

I immediately called a friend specialized in retrieving surveillance.

Within two or three hours, yesterday's surveillance footage was restored on the computer.

The time was ten in the morning. The surveillance footage showed me leaving the house, followed by Sweetie starting to cry.

Next, my mother-in-law appeared in the footage. She yanked Sweetie up roughly, ignoring her cries, shaking her fiercely.

A gesture meant to soothe a child was done so violently that I was gnashing my teeth.

But that wasn't the main point. The main point was my beloved husband stretching as he walked out of the room. Fortunately, he had bought a recorder capable of capturing audio.

Otherwise, I wouldn't have heard such a shocking sentence: "So noisy, why hasn't she died yet."

My mother-in-law heard his words and tossed Sweetie back into her crib, turning into the kitchen.

Sweetie continued crying incessantly. My mother-in-law brought out a plate of mangoes from the kitchen, not meticulously prepared, and stuffed large chunks directly into Sweetie's mouth.

Sweetie couldn't possibly eat so much. As it filled her mouth, her face began to turn purple, her breathing rapid.

My mother-in-law grabbed her by her collar, lifting her to the room.

There was no sound from Sweetie in the surveillance. My dear husband and understanding mother-in-law sat calmly in the living room finishing the remaining mangoes.

In the spare time, my mother-in-law even cleaned up the trash left over from eating mangoes.

Sweetie had been thrown into the room. The surveillance didn't pick up any sound of her. In those ten-plus minutes, Sweetie had slowly died.

And these two cold-blooded beasts leisurely wrapped Sweetie's body in a plastic bag and calmly carried it to the hospital for "resuscitation."

She did it on purpose. I clearly told her Sweetie couldn't eat mangoes.

They killed Sweetie. They killed Sweetie. The concrete hatred in my mind was about to overwhelm me.

I so desperately wanted to take a kitchen knife, chop their flesh off, and then bring it to Sweetie's grave.

This approach would lead nowhere. A common woman like me couldn't possibly contest against a strong man and a shrewd old woman. I might even be caught by the police before I could bring them to justice for Sweetie.

The surveillance footage is evidence pointing to my mother-in-law, but it can't be used as absolute proof of her intentional murder.

Because the footage only showed my mother-in-law "accidentally" feeding her mango, putting her in the room, after which she died.

I wouldn't let my mother-in-law's imprisonment be so simple. I wanted them to taste a fate worse than death.

5.

Sweetie's death became an unbearable pain in my heart.

With this reason, I could justifiably find a job, not be confined by Jason Grant in this small home.

I had done so much for this family before, only for Sweetie's death to be the result.

I knew Jason Grant was a chauvinist. He advocated that women should stay home, cook, do laundry, and care for children, believing that serving parents and husband was the ultimate destiny for a woman.

We graduated from the same university, both from renowned universities in the 985 Project. We came from modest backgrounds, often dating in the library the most.

My work and study abilities weren't inferior to his, potentially even surpassing him. Still, I liked him, and Jason Grant told me that women should prioritize the family.

So I gave up work, becoming the virtuous wife he talked about. Yet, he didn't become a husband who satisfied me.

If it were in the past, me wanting to find work would definitely anger Jason Grant.

These two animals, they killed my child, now whatever I do, they don't dare to show any anger, fearing I might notice something.

Using this as an excuse, I started going to job interviews, with my high business education, I'm quite sought after in many companies.

Not long after, I joined a big company, emulating Jason Grant's way, leaving early and coming home late, working overtime relentlessly.

It's ridiculous, I'm merely treating him the way he treated me back then, and yet he got angry.

Especially when I came home from overtime at one o'clock in the morning, he threw a glass on the floor violently, producing a crisp sound, then gave me a cold shoulder.

I knew not to confront him head-on, so I went along with him, crouching down and crying, calling out for Sweetie.

I covered my face with both hands, pretending to cry in deep sorrow, but in reality, I was secretly observing him.

Jason Grant's face was dark, perhaps from the start he felt Sweetie was unlucky, after I mentioned her name, he lost his desire to lash out.

Turns out, it doesn't matter who it is, as long as you find their soft spot, you can handle them easily.

I slowly got up from the floor, wiping the tears off my face with a blank expression.

Sweetie's mom will definitely avenge you, this sentence is the only thing that keeps me going every day.

Throwing myself into work is to gain financial capability to deal with Jason Grant and his family, I calculated that hiring a lawyer for a lawsuit costs a lot.

Even sneaking sleeping pills to my dear husband is quite an expense, after all, a pill that knocks someone out every night isn't cheap.

From the day they killed Sweetie, I began to investigate Jason Grant, his computer left at home was a treasure trove.

Watching his conversations with others, I vaguely uncovered evidence of him embezzling public funds.

This wasn't easy, luckily I lived with him, every night as soon as the sleeping pill was administered.

Jason Grant would lie in bed, unable to wake, his phone, computer, all chat records, and daily activities were within my grasp.

It's not that he wasn't guarded against me, but he never considered me an enemy from the start, in his eyes, I'm just a foolish wife who bore a daughter.

I will make him realize the consequences of underestimating someone!

6.

I've gradually become familiar with the people and things at work, especially my team leader.

The team leader has always valued my abilities, even secretly asked me why, with better opportunities available, I chose to be an employee here.

She's a good person, but I wasn't ready to expose my scars to others.

About a month later, the leader insisted on having lunch and dinner with me every day.

Jessica's gentle tone pried open my heart, I wept bitterly and confided in her about Jason Grant and my daughter Sweetie's death.

Jessica is competent, confident, and driven, she is a worthy partner to collaborate with, I hugged her tightly, hiding my shrewdness.

I said before, for Sweetie, I'm willing to do anything, even exploit others, exposing my own weaknesses is not an issue.

As long as the result is good, the process doesn't matter.

Large amounts of sleeping pills and technology to monitor Jason Grant's phone were all obtained by Jessica through her connections.

Naturally, Jessica became my confidante, with her support, Jason Grant wouldn't suspect me as much.

I had more time and energy to arrange my plans in the shadows, now seeing Jason Grant disgusted me, I had to endure the nausea and talk to him daily, sleep in the same bed.

And pretend to be a good wife, doing his laundry and cooking, all to lower his guard so I could better find those pieces of evidence.

The company's annual party was lively, the chairman attended as well, Jessica specifically chose a backless dress for me, claiming it would help me attract men and soon dump that scum Jason Grant.

I'm actually insecure about wearing a backless dress, I have a red birthmark on my back, present from birth, if described, it resembles a bunch of cherries.

Wearing that dress under the spotlight, I felt like I shed my former shell and became a new person, no longer the timid woman who stayed home.

With my head held high, the delicate makeup made my face glow even more under the lights, the birthmark on my back wasn't a burden, instead, it radiated vividly in the backless outfit Jessica chose.

I swayed a wine glass, moving through the corners of the banquet, feeling a strength in my body, allowing me to be reborn, transformed.

With Jessica by my side, holding a wine glass, I followed her, toasting everyone in the room.

The men at the event complimented us lavishly, speaking politely and considerately, Jessica teased me to quickly abandon Jason Grant and find someone else.

She said I'm not ugly, highly capable, why hang myself on this tree of his.

I knew she was just joking, besides, my revenge is not yet fulfilled, how can I move on.

Enjoying my brilliance under the lights, if Sweetie were with me, how happy she would be.

The process of toasting was repetitive and boring, finally reaching the chairman, I thought it was about to end.

The chairman toasted me with another two or three glasses, I leaned dizzily on Jessica's shoulder, the world spinning in my eyes.

The chairman watched me eagerly, intoxicated, unable to distinguish directions, I pulled Jessica to leave.

Leaning on Jessica's shoulder, I could still feel the chairman's substantial gaze fixed on my back.

But I was too drunk, I didn't want to think about anything, just wanted to sleep well.

7.

When I woke up from the hangover, I was at Jessica's house, rubbing my sore forehead, opened my phone to ninety-nine plus unread messages.

I opened it to see all friendly notifications on WeChat.

Jessica was right, why waste my best years on Jason Grant.

In my youth, I had so many choices, why did I choose to be with Jason Grant, plain, honest, diligent?

It was the feeling of family, but later he pushed me into hell, it was him and his mother who personally killed Sweetie.

I must, must make them taste the agony beyond endurance.

After a while, a call came, it was Jason Grant, why didn't you come home all night, what on earth are you doing outside fooling around?

Your clothes and the dishes at home, why haven't you come back to clean them, I give you 2000 yuan a month to take care of this house.

What can this two thousand do, I chuckled to myself, weakly said, I'll be back soon, don't be angry.

Doing nanny-like work for such little money, Jason Grant really doesn't see me as a human, from the initial guilt to now, the verbal and physical abuse.

I have injuries from his beatings, I'm not going to choose to call the police, I'm going to collect these pieces of evidence bit by bit, adding to the previous ones.

As usual, I went to work at the company. Clearly, the stunning look I had at the party that day gave the men in the company a new perception of me.

I received a lot of gifts and dinner invites. I never mentioned to the outside world that I had a husband and child. Gleefully, I took the gifts home to disgust Jason Grant.

The end result was a big slap from him. I didn't shed a single tear and laughed heartily in front of him. Jason, panicked, dashed out the door.

He probably thought I was crazy, but I wasn't at all.

That night, I received a WeChat friend request from the chairman.

I tried hard to recall the events of that day at the party, only vaguely remembering the chairman's eager gaze on me.

Surely, the chairman wasn't thinking of robbing the cradle, right? I accepted the chairman's friend request. Sometimes he would chat with me, asking very strange questions.

Things like my age, my parents, and the birthmark on my back.

What he said included my personal details, which made me deeply uncomfortable. I discussed this matter with Jessica.

Jessica said the chairman wanted to take advantage of me in a not-so-nice way. This place wasn't suitable for a long stay; we should go independent as soon as possible.

We had planned this for a long time. The money we earn working here definitely wouldn't be as good as starting a small business together.

Jessica had worked for many years and saved up a sum of money. I worked day and night, also to open my own company, buy my own house, and escape from this family.

The toast at the party wasn't just out of politeness but the best choice to expand our influence. The WeChat contacts I added included not only customers and employees of the company but also some partners.

Jessica and I had great ambitions. We both believe that women shouldn't be confined to a small sphere but should have their careers and strength to explore the world outside.

We shouldn't, like I did before, abandon everything for marriage until losing Sweetie to finally wake up.

During planning preparations, I thought of Sweetie again.

She called me mom with her hair in braids, and my heart ached sharply as if pierced, the resentment flaring up again.

8.

My career was on the rise, but Jason Grant wasn't as fortunate.

He was no longer the Jason Grant of the past, no longer possessing the earnest and diligent mindset. He became very irritable whenever he worked.

Actually, from the time he embezzled company funds, I knew he had become a slave to money.

Because of the chairman's favor, my position kept rising, and I encountered more and more clients.

Jason learned about these somehow, and as soon as I got home, he would begin to be cynical, often ordering me around.

He would even ask me to hand over my salary, claiming he wanted to invest it to provide me with a better life.

It was his male chauvinism at play, unable to accept that his wife was more dominant, more excellent, or even more successful in her career than he was.

He feared I would surpass him, that he would be trampled underfoot and criticized by neighbors for being inferior even to his wife.

Jason started deliberately belittling me.

"Making more outside, earning more, what's the use? A happy family is the most important thing. Do you see me and my mom happy?"

"Look at the neighbor Emma, staying home every day making meals for her husband on time. Look at you, not returning home at night, how do you think the neighbors talk about you?"

I ignored him, doing my own thing. I understood the principle of patience bringing harmony and taking a step back leading to a broader view.

Seeing that I remained unmoved, he started changing his approach, showing concern for me every day, whether I was going to work or coming home, calling me every few hours to show constant care.

Even my kind mother-in-law made a special trip from the countryside to bring me chickens and ducks, cooking chicken soup for me.

I happily drank that bowl of chicken soup, never mentioning anything about resigning.

At the table, my mother-in-law and Jason engaged in lively discussions, talking about how a woman with a career never returns home, or how continuing like this would inevitably lead to divorce.

They spoke so loudly, clearly intending for me to hear, so I purposely pretended not to.

I remained impervious, and Jason was so infuriated that he smashed things around the house over and over.

Jason's scheming nature took over, using petty tricks to try to make me submit.

He deleted files from my computer while I slept, causing me to find a blank document when submitting it the next day.

Even worse, he poured water on my computer while I was asleep, rendering it completely destroyed.

Seeing him rack his brains every day to deal with me made me amused.

Did he really think I wasn't on guard against these cheap tricks?

At family gatherings, he secretly slandered me, claiming I often stayed out late, reeking of alcohol when returning home.

He said I was starting a business with some bad company, neglecting even my mother-in-law. When she brought me chicken soup, I didn't drink it.

Innuendo aplenty, he gossiped with several relatives, suggesting I had the intention to cheat, often going out with bosses to negotiate deals, being away for business trips lasting one or two weeks.

Initially, others just laughed it off, but as the rumors grew fiercer, his family's relatives were spreading that he had married a loose woman.

"Cursed the child and now has thoughts of infidelity, tsk..."

Outside, whenever those relatives saw me, they would point and gossip, even the children from their families avoided me.

And when relatives said he had such an ungrounded wife yet he could still put up with her without divorcing, he was labeled a good husband.

How ironic, that a father responsible for the death of his daughter could be praised as a good husband.

9.

With money, everything became more convenient; I bought piles of expensive cosmetics.

In the five or six years of marriage with Jason Grant, all he brought me was pain.

Time left traces on my face, and daily toil made me look older, sometimes appearing even older than my peers.

So with money, the first thing I did was skincare; I wanted to make up for all the youth I lost being with him.

Exercise was also essential; I went to the gym every week, working out for four hours. The return of physical strength allowed me to gradually regain my peak.

This gradually restored face naturally attracted Jason Grant's desire.

We used to divide the bed, me sleeping on one side and him on the other. After Sweetie died, we never shared the same bed again.

Recently, his hand would intentionally or unintentionally cross the line we mentally drew, touching my waist, then my face. In the darkness, he couldn't see the complete absence of desire on my face.

He leaned close to my ear, blowing gently: "My dear, why don't we have another baby, okay? A son, a big healthy boy. Mom would love that."