In a panic, I grabbed a stool and smashed it over his head, then bolted out the door. Outside, I spotted three men and a woman walking by, and I screamed for help.

They all looked at me with pity in their eyes. Seeing Jack closing in, I ran toward them with every ounce of strength I had. If I could just reach them, I’d be safe.

One of the men caught me, and I looked up at him with gratitude. Jack came up behind me, and the man who had helped me asked what was going on. I expected Jack to panic or make excuses, but instead, he said calmly, “Just a woman nobody else wants…”

Another man cut him off, laughing, “Well, sir, you should take care of us too, eh? Your little grandsons here need some attention!” The group erupted into laughter, the woman with them blushing as she turned away.

The sun was shining that day, the grass was tall, and everything outside was alive with spring. But inside, my world was frozen—no light, no hope.

I grew up in a loving, prosperous family, dreaming of a life like my parents’—a heart won, growing old together. When I fell for Liam, poor as he was, I poured everything I had into loving him, believing he’d be my rock for life. But he pushed me into a pit of despair, and now I couldn’t find my way out.

The darkness settled in, and the demons finally left. After a while, I felt something damp on my back and weakly called out, “Help me… save me…”

Jack sneered, lifting my foot with just two fingers before dropping it like it was a broken stick. “You filthy bitch, thought you could trick me?”

“You’re supposed to be a fancy college girl, but you’re no better than an animal, pissing and shitting everywhere.”

He dragged out a cart, tied me up stark naked, and wheeled me away into the night. As we went, he spat on me. “Disgusting. You’re not even fit to be my mistress.”

He turned a corner and hauled me into the pigsty. The place was damp, stifling, and swarming with mosquitoes.

“You’re worthless. This is where you belong,” he snarled, locking me in. He dusted off his hands and walked away, completely at ease, as if nothing had happened.

I was covered in filth, my lips cracked from thirst, and I felt like I couldn’t go on. I lay down in the muck, thinking maybe starving to death wouldn’t be so bad.

I don’t know how much time passed, but suddenly, I heard chaos outside—footsteps and a girl’s scream. She ran to the pigsty and was horrified by what she saw. As she turned to flee, the woman behind her caught her up.

The girl dropped to her knees, sobbing, “Mother, I don’t want to marry that old man!”

I suddenly jolted awake. If I died like this, what would happen to my sister? Would she end up suffering the same fate? Who would protect her? I forced myself to crawl to the edge of the fence and licked the leftover water from the pig trough. If I could survive one more day, that was something.

And somehow, I did survive—long enough for Liam to finally come for me.

The village chief slapped his thigh in frustration, grabbing Jack by the shirt and warning him sharply, “There are things better left unsaid, so keep your mouth shut!”

“This time it’s real—he even brought a journalist for an interview!” The color drained from Jack’s face. He swallowed the rest of his bun, then quickly pulled out a wad of cash, trying to smooth things over.

“Don’t scare me, Mr. Grant. How did it come to this... maybe we could just tell them she died of illness...”

The village chief looked even more grim. He raised his arm and slapped Jack, saying sternly, “Even if an expert died here, I couldn’t cover it up, let alone Liam’s wife. Don’t get any funny ideas—make her keep quiet, or we’ll all go down together.”

Jack, drenched in sweat, chased after the retreating village chief, calling out, “You can’t just leave me hanging…”

He returned looking defeated, his eyes hardening as he stared at me with a mix of cunning and malice. He reached out with his rough, yellowed hand.

I felt nothing—like a piece of wood. Most of the time, I existed like a walking corpse, numb to everything around me.

What a shame, I thought. If you give up now, you’ll just be handing that bastard an easy win.

He grabbed my hand in anger, but something inside me snapped. I shoved him away with all the strength I could muster.

“Let go of me.”

Jack was startled and kicked me against the wall. “If you dare expose what happened here, do you think Mr. Grant will still want you, you lowlife?”

He started undressing as he approached me, sneering, “If you open your mouth, I’ll just say you were the one who betrayed him first—that you even had a daughter with me. How about that?”

My breath quickened, and painful memories flooded back, overwhelming me. He moved closer, and suddenly, it was like I was back in those dark days.

Three years ago, I found out I was pregnant, but I didn’t know who the father was. By the time it was discovered, I was already five months along. Jack was furious and wanted me to abort, but others stopped him, saying the baby could be valuable.

Under their strict surveillance, I gave birth to a baby girl who was taken away immediately. The next time I saw her, she was already over two years old, dressed in filthy clothes. She was terrified of getting hit for feeding the chickens and had run to hide in the pigsty. She wasn’t even 80 centimeters tall, but she was already digging through the trough for food with skill. Her little hands were covered in frostbite.

I couldn’t bring myself to love her, but I couldn’t hate her either.

Soon, a group of women caught up to us, pointing and whispering. Jack’s wife was the loudest.

“She was asking for it,” she sneered.

“She’s a tramp. My husband won’t even touch me anymore.”

“Filthy, shameless whore.”

...

A stream of vile words and urine splashed all over me, drenching me from head to toe. But I couldn’t even cry.

When Jack heard the commotion, he came over and chased them away, but I saw his eyes dart to his two-year-old daughter. Jack’s wife grabbed the little girl and took her away.

Humiliated, Jack looked at my filthy state and, furious, he forced himself on me again. I know that if I ever see my sister again, I won’t be able to face myself.

When Jack was done, he used my clothes to wipe himself off. He stared at me while I showered, then rummaged through the luggage they’d confiscated from me earlier and found a set of long clothes and pants.

When I first came here, I was fair-skinned and slim. Now, my skin was dark and sallow, and my pants strained over a belly that looked like I was hiding a swimming ring under my clothes.

He seemed worried, and sternly warned me, “You’re an important person now, a leader’s wife with a bright future. Don’t mess this up.”

I was brought to the door of the dormitory, a place that had once been covered in dust, now freshly cleaned. Reporters were interviewing the villagers, who all scrambled to sing my praises. The men and women smiled warmly at me, carefully complimenting me while subtly threatening, “You’ve finally made it. Don’t screw it up.”

Everyone assumed I’d keep quiet for the sake of honor and wealth.

The person who came to pick me up was my younger sister. At first, she didn’t recognize me and just stood there in shock.

“Sister, how did you end up like this?” she finally said, rushing over to hug me tightly.

I felt stiff and nauseous. After these three years, I’d grown to fear anyone touching me. I looked around, but Liam was nowhere to be seen. I breathed a sigh of relief—the last person I wanted to face was him.

My sister wiped her tears and started pulling me toward the car.

Just then, Liam pulled up in a pickup truck loaded with bread, cooking oil, and pasta.

He was dressed in a sharp black suit, every detail perfectly in place, radiating the aura of a successful man. Then he opened the passenger door and helped Evelyn out, the two of them looking every bit the loving couple.

A crowd had gathered around us. I felt nervous, my head down, fingers fidgeting. When I didn’t say anything, Jack nudged me with his elbow and whispered, “Say hello.”

Startled, I snapped out of it, bowed deeply, and said, “Hello, Mr. Grant.”

Liam frowned, clearly displeased. “What did you just call me?”

Our eyes met, and I could see his irritation. I didn’t understand—what was I supposed to call him? Liam? The last time I’d called him that, he was so annoying he sent me here. Now, I didn’t dare use his name.

He stared at me for a long moment, then sighed, “Fine, you must be exhausted. Get in the car and rest.”

He turned to shake hands with Jack and the village chief, thanking them. “My wife has been here for three years. Thank you for looking after her. This truckload of bread, cooking oil, and pasta is a token of our gratitude to the village. Please help distribute it.”

Suddenly, I shouted, “No, don’t give it to them!”

Everyone stared at me in shock.

Liam’s face darkened. He asked, trying to stay calm, “Then what do you want to do with the bread and pasta?”

I looked at him, my voice shaking with pain, “Throw it away, give it to beggars, anyone, just not them.”

The veins on Liam’s neck bulged as he fought to keep his temper. “Why are you still so stubborn and unreasonable? These people have helped you. How can you repay kindness with hostility?”

Evelyn stepped forward, smiling sweetly. “Exactly. Even a child knows how to be grateful, but you’re just heartless.”

Tears streamed down my face as I begged Liam, “Please, don’t give it to them.”

The reporter’s camera zoomed in on me, and Liam quickly blocked it.

“Are you still fit to be a role model for others?” he snapped. “Today, this bread and pasta are going to them, whether you like it or not.”