Sharon had grown up in the Jiang household, betrothed to the eldest son, Evan, since they were children.

When Evan was kidnapped at eighteen, she volunteered to take his place.

For three days, they gave her no food or water. Burning with a 104-degree fever, she nearly died before finally staggering back to the Jiang estate.

But the first words she heard were Evan’s, spoken coldly to his parents:

“I won’t marry Sharon. She was trapped in that den of thieves for three days—who knows what happened to her?”

“If you want to keep the engagement, send her to the Institute of Female Virtue. Let them scrub her clean.”

On her first day at the Institute, they stripped her naked and performed the “Verification”—a brutal, archaic ritual meant to certify her virginity.

On the second, she cooked ninety-nine separate dishes, then spent the entire night on her knees, scrubbing floors.

On the third, they forced her to dance barefoot on a red-hot iron plate.

Four years later, Sharon was finally released. Her first act was to visit the crematorium and order a sandalwood urn for her own ashes.

“Miss Sharon, your pre-arranged cremation service will activate upon your demise. A deposit is required now, with the balance due within one month. On behalf of our facility, we wish you a vibrant life and a peaceful passing.”

The crematorium robot delivered its programmed pleasantries with mechanical courtesy. Sharon was past caring.

From her worn canvas bag, she pulled a fistful of coins, counted them twice, and paid the deposit.

Three months ago, during a routine physical at the Institute, Sharon was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer.

It was terminal. The doctors gave her a month, at most.

Before she died, there was one thing she had to do: return to the Jiang family and reclaim the jade pendant her birth mother had left her.

She had once given that pendant to Evan, a token of their love.

The Jiang estate clung to the hillside. After two bus transfers and a half-hour walk, Sharon reached the imposing gates at dusk.

Taking a deep breath, she knocked on the door that had once been so familiar.

It swung open. Heather, Evan’s mother, let out a delighted shriek.

“Sharon! Today’s your graduation! I sent Evan to fetch you. How did you get back alone?”

Sharon turned mechanically. There was Evan, unchanged after four years—that same arrogant, untamed look. The only difference was the woman beside him.

Her own half-sister, Leah.

“Auntie Jiang, this is all my fault,” Leah said, stepping forward with a smile to take Sharon’s hand. “Evan and I were going to collect my sister together, but then… my period started. The cramps were awful, so he stayed home with me. You don’t mind, do you, sis?”

“No.” Sharon’s voice was a numb, almost inaudible murmur. “I don’t mind.”

She turned to go upstairs, to gather her old things and demand her mother’s pendant, when Evan’s mocking voice cut through the air.

“Sharon. They say an Institute graduate is the perfect wife—presentable in the parlor, proficient in the kitchen. Since everyone’s here, prove it. Make us a feast. Eight courses, two soups, and a dessert should suffice.”

Sharon’s body locked. A long silence hung before her voice trembled into the space. “I don’t want to.”

“Just give me my mother’s pendant. I’ll leave as soon as I have it.”

The memories surged forward, vicious and unbidden.

Culinary arts were mandatory at the Institute. Vegetables cut unevenly meant being whipped until you bled. A wok-toss a second too slow, and needles pierced your fingers.

Over four years, Sharon’s fury and resistance had hardened into numbness, then cold despair. Those nightmare years were a net drawn tight around her, inescapable and suffocating.

“Oh? You don’t want to?” A cold smile touched Evan’s lips. He raised his hand, the jade pendant swinging from its red cord. “Do you want this or not? If not, I’ll smash it.”

It was the only thing her mother had left.

Seeing his arm poised to dash the pendant to the ground, Sharon’s heart leapt into her throat.

“Now, Evan, don’t tease Sharon.”

Heather smiled, taking Sharon’s hand—but her brow furrowed the moment her fingers brushed the calluses on the girl’s palm.

“I’d love to taste your cooking too, dear. For my sake, just cook for us today, alright? And never talk about leaving this family again. You’re Evan’s fiancée. You belong with us.”

Without waiting for a refusal, she nudged Sharon toward the kitchen.

Sharon’s fingers trembled slightly as she picked up the knife, her breath catching in her throat.

An hour later, she finally brought the sprawling feast to the table.

“Not bad,” Evan said with a dismissive shrug, already reaching for a second helping. “Leah, have some more.”

“Thank you, Evan.”

Sharon kept her head down throughout the meal, never once glancing at Evan, as if none of it had anything to do with her.

A hot, irrational fury seized him. He slammed his fork down, voice sharp. “Sharon, why are you just eating? Have the dessert.”

Dessert… Sharon looked at the mango mousse. Evan had specifically asked her to make it, claiming it was Leah’s favorite.

But he knew perfectly well she was allergic to mangoes.

Her hands were already red and swollen from peeling them. If she swallowed any, it could kill her.

“Sharon, you’re being difficult again.” He made air quotes around the word. “I know you’re ‘allergic.’ You just need to build up a tolerance. Since when did you become so delicate? I’ve spoiled you all these years.”

He leaned closer, voice dropping to a threat. “Eat it, or I’m sending you straight back to the Institute.”

At his words, Sharon flinched as if struck, her whole body trembling. She grabbed the mango mousse and shoved it into her mouth. Tears and mucus streamed down her face from the discomfort, but she kept eating mechanically.

“Enough!” Evan knocked the spoon from her hand and stood up angrily. “I told you to eat it! Don’t you know when to stop?”

She didn’t need to be told twice. Bolting for the bathroom, she collapsed in front of the toilet and retched violently.

Just then, someone walked in. A hand landed on her shoulder.

“You gonna die in here? Need an ambulance?”

“Help me!”

“Please! Don’t touch me! Don’t touch me!”

The past slammed into her. With all her strength, Sharon swung her arm up and slapped Evan hard across the face.

“Sharon, have you lost your mind!” Evan clutched his cheek and shoved her away violently. “I came to check on you, and you dare hit me!”

He stood there breathing heavily for a moment. Then his lips stretched into a humorless smile.

“Is that it? You’re jealous because I was nice to Leah?”

“Relax. I owe you for saving my life, and you’ve finally learned your place. You’ll always be my fiancée. That position is secure.”

The light snapped off abruptly.

In the sudden darkness, Sharon couldn’t see a thing. She only felt a heavy weight on her chest, then her clothes were ripped open roughly.

Without any preamble, Evan’s hand slid beneath her skirt.

“Just relax. It’s your first time. I won’t hurt you.”

Sharon’s breathing hitched, the stabbing pain in her upper abdomen intensifying.

On her very first day at the Institute, she had been ordered to strip naked before all the instructors to “verify her virginity.”

They hadn’t taken her then, but they’d found other ways to torment her.

Cold sweat beaded and dripped from her forehead. She couldn’t bear it any longer. Her vision tunneled to black, and she finally passed out.

When I woke again, I was lying in a hospital bed, an IV drip attached to my hand.

“Sharon,” came a cold voice. “What the hell have you been doing these past four years? How could you let yourself fall apart like this?”

Evan stood watching me, his expression hard.

“The doctor says you’re severely malnourished. If you don’t start eating properly, you’ll die.” He paused, voice dropping. “It was wrong of me to call you a pig back then—but that doesn’t mean you should stop eating altogether. Sharon… you’ve truly disappointed me.”

With that, he turned and left without another word.

Watching his retreating figure, my numb face finally showed a flicker of expression.

I murmured the words I’d repeated countless times over the past four years.

“Evan… I really don’t dare to like you anymore.”

“Evan… I really don’t dare to like you anymore.”

The year I turned ten, my parents died in a car accident.

Leah and I were both taken in by the Jiang family. True to their promise, they made me Evan’s fiancée.

Evan never liked me. He mocked me for eating street food, sneered at me for reading romance novels.

Even though we went to school together every day, studied together, attended the same tutoring classes—he never once gave me a kind look.

Because of my connection to Evan, the school’s reigning queen bee cornered me in the bathroom, threatening to shove my head in the toilet and flush it.

Then Evan suddenly appeared.

“Leave her alone,” he said. “She’s mine.”

From that day on, Evan started treating me better and better.

Even though he was terrified of heights, he went to the amusement park with me, riding the roller coaster ten times in a row.

Knowing I loved animals, he patiently volunteered with me at the stray dog shelter.

We made plans: attend the same university, get married right after graduation, have one boy and one girl, and be together forever.

All of it turned to ashes after the kidnapping.

Evan was once my light.

Now… that light has gone out.

The day I was about to be discharged, my sister Leah came to the hospital.

She pushed the door open, carrying a pink insulated lunchbox, her voice sweet and lively.

“Sharon, I came to see you! I brought you something delicious. Eat up, then we can go home.”

Dressed in a pretty floral dress, she looked radiant, a smile in her eyes. Others in the ward couldn’t help but praise her.

“Miss Sharon, is this your sister? She’s even prettier than you.”

“You have the same mother, but you don’t look much alike,” someone joked curiously.

“We don’t have the same mother.”

“What did you say?”

“We don’t have the same mother.” I bit my lip, my hands at my sides clenching into fists.

It wasn’t until after my father died that I learned the truth: the man I’d always believed was a devoted family man had a mistress on the side, who bore him a child—Leah.

“Sharon, I made this nourishing soup just for you. Simmered it for a full three hours.” Leah acted as if she hadn’t heard, taking out a spoon and lifting it considerately, ready to feed me. “Evan had something to do today. I drove, so we can head back together later. Try it. I promise you’ll love it.”

After a moment’s hesitation, I took the spoon from Leah’s hand and brought it to my mouth.

“Is it good?”

“It’s okay.”

“See, Sharon? I told you you’d love it!” Leah’s mouth curled into a smirk, her eyes cold and sharp. “Guess what kind of meat is in this soup?”

“It’s Lucky!”

“Your dog, Sharon.”