My wealthy fiancé was kidnapped, and I poured everything into finding him. I fought tooth and nail to restore him to his rightful place in high society, to help him track down the real culprits. In return, he honored the engagement between our families and eventually married me.

Yet he hated every single day of that gilded life—and he hated me even more, the one who had dragged him back into it. His heart had always belonged to that girl from the small town, his “white moonlight,” Joyce.

Then came the day the traffickers returned for revenge. He rushed out and took a fatal knife meant for my father. With his last breath, he gathered every ounce of strength to whisper, “Ashley, in the next life… don’t come looking for me. Let me and Joyce live a peaceful life in Clearwater Town.”

Now he was finally free. I couldn’t shed a tear; I only nodded, my voice a hoarse rasp. “All right. I promise you.”

If there is a next life, Alan… I’ll let you have it.

When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day I went to Clearwater Town to find him.

…

The moment my consciousness snapped back, a wave of humid air flooded my nostrils, thick with the scent of damp earth and greenery. My eyes flew open. I was sitting in a beat-up minivan.

Outside stretched an endless vista of green mountains and patchwork fields.

I looked down at my own hands—pale, slender, without a single callus from years of domestic chores. On my wrist, the Patek Philippe watch read 3:00 PM. The date was… August 27th.

The very day I had found Alan in my past life.

My heart hammered against my ribs. I stumbled out of the car, scrambling onto the roadside.

Not far off, on a winding dirt path between the fields, two figures stood close together. The man wore a faded, threadbare T-shirt, his frame lean and straight, his profile achingly familiar—handsome and sharp. He was leaning down, gently wiping a smudge of dirt from the cheek of the girl beside him.

She wore a floral-print dress, her hair in two braids, laughing with a carefree, innocent joy.

It was Alan and Joyce.

In my past life, this scene had driven me mad with jealousy. I’d charged over like a lunatic, declaring my claim without a second thought, wielding an outdated engagement contract to tear apart what I called a pair of “shameless lovers.” I told Alan he was the long-lost only son of the Alan's Group, a top-tier family in Capital City—that his parents had been searching for him day and night. I told him *I* was his real fiancée, promised to him since childhood.

I thought I was saving him. Pulling him from the mud. Returning him to the world that was rightfully his.

I was wrong.

I destroyed his peaceful life and buried my own in the process.

Now, the late summer wind swept across the rice paddies, rippling the golden stalks. Alan and Joyce’s laughter, clear as silver bells, carried on the breeze.

In that moment, I felt a peace I’d never known.

I watched them as though they were a landscape painting I had no part in. Those six years of love, hate, and entanglement—the soul-wrenching arguments, the silent tears in the dead of night—all of it felt like an old movie from another century. Faded, blurry, leaving behind nothing but an endless exhaustion.

Alan, I came.

And as you wished, I won’t disturb you again.

I turned around. Without a shred of lingering attachment, I climbed back into the minivan that had brought me here.

“Driver, turn around. Back to the airport.”

He glanced at me in the rearview mirror, surprised. “Miss, you’re not looking for the person anymore?”

I shook my head, leaned back against the seat, and closed my eyes.

“No.”

Never again.

Back in Capital City, as soon as the plane touched down, I called Mrs Alan, Alan’s mother.

Her voice held its usual anxious, imperious note. “Ashley? Do you have any news?”

In my past life, it was during this call that I’d excitedly told her I’d found Alan.

Back then, the Alan family had moved with ruthless efficiency, practically turning Clearwater Town inside out to drag him back by force—a decision that planted the seeds of our later tragedy.

This time, I took a deep breath and replied as calmly as if discussing the weather. “Mrs Alan, I’ve seen him.”

A sharp, elated gasp burst through the phone. “Really? Where? Ashley, you’re our family’s savior! I—”

“Mrs Alan, please let me finish.”

I cut her off.

“He’s doing well. Healthy. And… happy.”

I paused, the field scene flashing before me. “He’s in love. With an uncomplicated, sweet-natured girl. They’re very happy together.”

Dead silence.

I could almost see the shock and disbelief on her face.

“Ashley, what are you saying?” Her voice turned icy.

“I’m saying he’s built a life and found his happiness. Forcing our way in now wouldn’t be a homecoming—it would be a kidnapping.”

I spoke each word clearly. “So I can’t give you the address. I only wanted to confirm he was alive and well. Now I have. My job is done.”

“Ashley!” Her voice rose sharply. “Listen to yourself! That’s my son! The Alan heir! What ‘life of his own’? His life is here, with his family! Have you lost your mind?”

“I haven’t, Mrs Alan. I’ve never been clearer.”

My voice stayed steady. “There’s one more thing I need to discuss with you and Mr Alan. Alan’s and my engagement—it’s over.”

“What?” This time, genuine shock momentarily overrode her anger.

“I said I want to end the engagement,” I repeated. “He has someone else. And I won’t waste any more time on a man who doesn’t love me. My family’s business may not match yours, but I, Ashley, don’t need to marry a man whose heart belongs elsewhere. It’s quite right that I don’t.”

Those were the words I’d held back for six years.

In my past life, love blinded me, turning me into a pitiful beggar pleading for even a single glance from Alan.

But after living it all again, I finally understood: love cannot be begged for, but dignity can.

Before hanging up, I said my final words: "Mrs Alan, this is my decision—and it’s final. I hope you will respect it. Whether you look for him or not is the Alan family’s affair. I will no longer be involved."

I gave her no chance to argue. The call ended, and her number was blocked immediately.

Peace, at last.

Back home, my father noticed my exhaustion, his eyes full of concern as he asked what was wrong.

I told him everything—only leaving out the part about my rebirth.

"Dad, I'm sorry," I said, hanging my head. "I might have let you down. The marriage alliance with the Alan family… it's over."

He was silent for a long moment before sighing softly. Reaching out, he patted my head, his gaze tender. "Silly child, what are you saying? All your father wants is your happiness. If that boy’s heart isn’t with you, then ending this marriage is for the best. A daughter of Ashley’s Group will have no shortage of suitors."

My eyes stung with warmth, and I buried myself in his arms.

Yes—how could I have been so foolish before? In that past life, I’d broken my family’s heart for a man who never loved me.

The next day, I gathered my resolve. With a project proposal drafted overnight, I walked into my father’s company.

It outlined a preliminary plan to pivot the family business from traditional manufacturing into the new energy sector—a more promising path I’d chosen for Ashley’s Group, guided by memories from my previous life.

As my father read through it, surprise and approval filled his eyes.

"Ashley," he said, "you’ve really grown up."

I smiled.

Yes, I had.

A life without Alan… turned out to be far less heartbreaking than I’d feared.