The giant screens of Bradley's Group illuminated Ashford daily, flashing the same stark advertisement: "Wife Rental."

Just yesterday, the wife of the Bradley family—the woman with the peculiar scale on her temple—had been auctioned off for a million dollars to serve as a drinking proxy. She earned one coin for every glass she finished.

For Bradley, this was the only way to torment Stella, the sole balm for the bitter resentment festering in his heart.

But he didn’t know. Stella was actually the reincarnation of a wealth-attracting golden koi. Every twisted form of torment he devised for her ultimately transformed into staggering fortune for the Bradley family.

Now, fifty glasses of strong liquor stood stacked like a small mountain. Her eyes red, she looked at Bradley and pleaded softly, "Bradley, I’ve... my period just started. Could I—"

A cold, mocking smile touched the corner of his mouth. "Drink."

Stella closed her eyes in despair. Fifty glasses of fire, one after another, burned down her throat and scorched her insides until they felt like raw, bleeding holes.

A hot rush surged between her legs, staining her white dress a vivid crimson.

Finally, her phone chimed with the robotic female voice: "Fifty dollars received."

Clutching her aching abdomen, she struggled to her feet. The spectacle of her stained dress drew a wave of mocking laughter.

"Bradley, how did you train such an obedient little lapdog?"

"Wasn't she the one you used to cherish? You almost gave your life to save her once. When did the tables turn so completely?"

A single, arrogant lift of Bradley's eyebrow sent a ripple of squeals through the crowd of watching girls.

He slowly exhaled a plume of smoke, his laugh cold. "From the moment she pocketed that ransom money and left my sister with the mind of a three-year-old."

"Yeah, I might have felt a shred of something real for her back then. But now? Hah."

"As for training a lapdog... first, she has to be madly, desperately in love with you."

Stella's hand, already on the door handle, froze. Her nails dug deep into her palm.

A *shred* of real feeling?

During their first year of marriage, he’d change the sheets seven times a night, leaving her too sore to walk the next day.

He bought a flawless pink diamond at auction just to have it set into her manicure.

Once, she’d offhandedly mentioned the air was dry. The next day, he had the whole of Ashford under artificial rain.

When an avalanche struck during a trip, he carried her, hypothermic and limp, running through the night—nearly dying himself in the process...

All of that... was just a *shred* of feeling to him?

So a person’s heart could change that easily.

She glanced back at him. In answer, hetauntingly wrapped an arm around a random woman beside him and kissed her, hard and possessive.

Amidst the roaring cheers and applause, Stella wrenched the door open and fled.

No tears. No lament.

A koi’s transformation was meant to repay a debt, to help the Bradley family amass their fortune. The day her scale fell, she would leave.

Since he no longer loved her, it would be easier to go without a backward glance.

Later, deep into the drinks, Bradley’s phone rang. It was Kathleen, her voice choked with sobs. His sister was in trouble.

Panic seized him. He rushed home to find Reese lying on the floor, covered in blood!

He lunged, his hand closing around Stella’s throat and lifting her almost off her feet. "What did you do to her?!"

Stella gasped, words strangled, her hands flailing helplessly.

Only then did Bradley notice the long, deep gash on Stella’s arm, blood still welling from it.

His grip faltered for a second, and he released her.

Kathleen helped Reese up, explaining quickly, "The blood is Stella’s. But she just pushed Reese down, Bradley. If you’d been any later, Reese might have..."

Reese whimpered, pointing a shaky finger. "Sissy wouldn’t wipe me... Sissy bad!"

Bradley followed her finger to the toilet, where a trail of filth stained the bowl and dripped to the floor.

"She’s like this because of you! Is wiping her once so hard?!" Rage ignited in his eyes again.

Stella laughed, a sound born of sheer, bitter fury. "Wipe her *once*? She told me to use my mouth!"

"Bradley, for years I’ve tried to explain! I never took that thousand dollars from the ransom! I didn’t hurt Reese! Why won’t you ever believe me?!"

Two years ago, Reese and her best friend Kathleen had been kidnapped. The ransom was five million.

Stella had delivered the cash in two suitcases. Somehow, a thousand dollars went missing.

Feeling insulted, the kidnappers smashed Reese’s head in.

His bright, lovely sister was reduced to a child who couldn’t control her own bladder. Bradley poured all his fury onto Stella.

She became his tool for venting rage.

At first, for one dollar, anyone could rent her to kneel and polish shoes.

For two, she’d scrub your toilet.

If you wanted something edgier, a night of suggestive dancing cost only five.

Gradually, Ashford’s elite began to see "renting" Stella as a status symbol, bidding astronomical sums for the contracts.

And every time she tried to defend herself, it only earned her more of Bradley’s humiliation.

*Smack!* A brutal slap cracked across her face.

Bradley dragged her to the toilet, forcing her head down into the bowl.

It still held the filth Reese hadn’t flushed.

Suffocation and nausea overwhelmed her. Stella fought, her struggles only making him press down harder.

"You want to act so high and mighty? Then I’ll drown you in the filth!" he hissed through clenched teeth.

Just as blackness threatened to swallow her, he yanked her up and flung her aside.

Gasping for air, she raised her head. Kathleen gasped, "Bradley! Her scale... it’s changing color!"

Bradley stared, stunned. The white scale on Stella’s temple had turned a pale gold.

"Is she... some kind of monster? It’s terrifying..." Kathleen’s teeth chattered.

"Monster?" Bradley scoffed. "Get me the pliers."

Stella recoiled, curling in on herself. "Bradley, what are you doing?"

He took the pliers and leaned over her, cruelty churning in his eyes. "I’ve hated that ugly thing for a long time. Today, I’m ripping it off."

The cold touch of metal, then a tearing, rending agony that consumed her.

"No! It hurts—it hurts so much!"

This scale was her Essence Scale, the core of her very being. Ripping it out was like tearing out her bones and sinews!

Stella screamed, tears streaming down her face.

Three years ago, when she first entered the Bradley home, Bradley had traced the scale on her temple with his finger and called it a unique mark.

The young master who’d mocked her as a freak was bankrupt the next day, his family ruined.

He’d taught her to walk with her head held high, praised her for a beauty no other woman could match.

And now he held pliers, ready to rip that very scale from her.

Pain!

Excruciating pain!

Blood dripped from her temple into her eyes, painting her world a violently shaking scarlet.

A secretary hurried in. "Sir, the Zhang family auction is tomorrow. They’ve bid three hundred thousand to have Madam serve as the ceremonial hostess."

Bradley paused. He dropped the pliers with a clatter, his voice flat. "A hostess needs perfect makeup. You get a pass this time."

He turned and left.

Gasping for breath, Stella looked at her reflection. The scale had darkened further. Tears of blood welled in her eyes and fell.

The day the scale turned pure gold would be the day the debt was repaid, the karma concluded.

She hoped that day would come soon.

Stella stood beside the auction stage, a vision in pale silver evening gown.

Bradley entered with Kathleen on his arm, his eyes never straying toward Stella.

A tide of whispers rose from the audience below.

“The wife lowers herself to hosting, just to please her husband. Truly Ashford’s number one doormat.”

“How could a petty thief compare to Miss Kathleen? She risked her life to save Reese from kidnappers. Bradley cherishes her out of gratitude—it’s only right.”

Stella pretended not to hear, but a sour ache bloomed in her chest.

For two years now, Kathleen had lived in the Bradley mansion as its de facto mistress, all under the pretext of caring for Reese. It was an open secret.

The auction began.

“The ‘Tears of Earth’ blue diamond ring. Starting bid: eight million.”

Bradley raised his paddle. “Ten million.” Turning to Kathleen with a gentle smile, he added, “It matches your blue velvet dress.”

Next came a jade necklace, then a pair of South Sea pearl earrings… Anything that caught Kathleen’s eye, Bradley bought at a high price. Over a dozen lots fell into his possession.

When the auctioneer gestured for Stella to deliver the items, Bradley’s voice turned icy. “Let the hostess help Miss Kathleen try them on.”

Stella’s fingers trembled. She started to bend.

“On your knees.”

Her fists clenched, but slowly she knelt.

“Thank you for your trouble, Miss Stella.” Kathleen’s lips curved as she deliberately straightened, holding herself rigidly upright.

Stella felt her calves going numb. She had to stretch her arms high to reach.

Bradley still didn’t look at her, only murmured to Kathleen, “You’re beautiful. You make these jewels priceless.”

Swallowing the bitterness, Stella struggled to keep her composure.

This was what he wanted, wasn’t it? Only by watching her grovel would his hatred feel appeased.

She repeated it like a mantra. *Hold on. Once the dragon scale at your temple turns completely gold, you’ll be free.*

When they reached the South Sea pearl earrings, Kathleen gasped. “Why is there only one?”

Instantly, Bradley’s expression darkened, his gaze locking onto Stella. “Hand it over.”

“I didn’t take it!” Stella’s face went deathly pale.

“Search her.” Bradley waved a dismissive hand at his bodyguard.

Stella struggled. “Let me go! Bradley—in front of everyone, how can you accuse me like this?”

A tearing sound ripped the air as her gown was torn open.

Bradley’s lips curled into a cold smirk. “Everyone here is either wealthy or noble. You’re the only one with a record. Suspicion falls on you naturally.”

The dress was ripped away completely, her exposed body revealing no pearl.

Bradley’s gaze dropped slowly to her undergarments.

The bodyguard understood. His fingers probed inside her bra.

Stella’s mouth was covered, cries stifled. Her body shook uncontrollably, shameful sobs catching in her throat.

Because of that one stolen thousand dollars, she would forever be a thief in his eyes. Once trust shattered, rebuilding it became a delusion she nurtured alone.

The bodyguard finished and stood. “Sir, nothing.”

“Oh,” Kathleen picked up the pearl from under her chair. “It rolled here.”

Bradley’s expression shifted briefly before hardening again. His voice held no apology. “You didn’t take it this time. That doesn’t prove you’re not a thief.”

Stella felt as if her heart had been ripped open, a cold wind howling through the cavity. No matter how she tried to prove herself, he had already convicted her.

Shaking, she pulled the torn dress around her. Then her gaze fell on a tray in a server’s hand—holding an unsold, unremarkable brownish raw stone.

She walked over. “I’ll take this stone.”

Cradling the rock, she approached Bradley and held it out. “Please, take it?”

Her voice, soft but firm, drew mocking laughter from the crowd. *Humiliated like that, and she’s still trying to please her husband!*

Bradley frowned in disgust. “If you want to curry favor, at least find something decent. What use is a worthless rock?”

But under her quiet insistence, he finally had the stone cut open on the spot.

When water washed over the cut surface, revealing a deep, pure emerald green, the entire hall erupted.

This unremarkable raw stone was worth hundreds of millions.

“My God! Even after such humiliation, Stella gives Bradley a gift like this. Truly devoted!”

“The ultimate doormat—living up to the name.”

Bradley stared at the stone, then at Stella, a strange tightness gripping his chest.

He suddenly remembered: the Bradley Group had been on the brink of collapse, only beginning its miraculous recovery after she arrived. Time and again, those seemingly coincidental opportunities for prosperity… they all seemed linked to her.

If she truly had such an ability, why would she have stolen that thousand dollars back then?

He opened his mouth, wanting to say something—

But Stella ignored him, silently reciting: *Take it. This is a crucial step in the Bradley family’s rise. And another step toward my departure.*

The auction ended amidst envious stares.

“Bradley,” Kathleen said softly, taking his arm. “Reese is waiting. Let’s go home.”

Bradley nodded, gesturing for Stella to get in the car as well.

Kathleen had taken only two steps when her slender heel snapped. She stumbled, nearly falling.

Without hesitation, Bradley looked at Stella. “Take off your shoes. Give them to Kathleen.”

Silently, Stella removed her shoes and climbed into the car barefoot.

After a short drive, Kathleen suddenly leaned over and kissed Bradley.

He returned the kiss with exaggerated fervor, his gaze flicking to the rearview mirror. Seeing the utter indifference in Stella’s eyes only fueled his irritation.

She fawned over him in every other way. Why didn’t she show jealousy when he was intimate with Kathleen? What right did she have not to care?

“Walk home yourself.” He shoved her out of the car. He’d expected resistance, but she obeyed like a well-trained dog.

The car sped away, kicking up dust. Only then did Stella remember—her phone was still inside. She couldn’t call a cab.

The sky darkened. Heavy rain began to fall.

Barefoot, she walked step by step through the gathering puddles.

Her reflection in a water-filled pothole showed a wretched face.

The dragon scale at her temple pulsed with a faint heat. The gold… seemed to have deepened another shade.

Rain sluiced from the heavens when a sharp pain lanced through the sole of her foot.

Bending down, Stella pulled a shard of glass from where it was embedded deep in her flesh. Blood swirled away with the rainwater, the pain sending a shiver through her.

Yet that pain was nothing compared to the ache in her heart.

She finally shuffled home, step by agonizing step, only to be greeted the moment she crossed the threshold by Reese’s shrill cry. "I want fish! Sister-in-law buy fish!"

Bradley frowned at Stella’s bloodied foot, his eyes flickering with a concern he instantly suppressed. Kathleen, sharp as ever, caught that fleeting change. Feigning gentleness, she coaxed, "Be good, Reese. Your sister-in-law seems to have hurt herself. We’ll have fish another day, alright?"

"No! No fish, no dinner! Wahhh—!"

Playing the part of someone overwhelmed, Kathleen turned to Bradley with a soft suggestion. "Mr. Bradley, perhaps we could take one from the ornamental pond out back? Freshly caught would be more delicious. Reese would love that."

Bradley gave a nod. "All right then."

Stella’s face drained of all color. "No!" Her voice trembled. "Those are ornamental fish—they’re not for eating! I’ll go to the market. I’ll go right now!"

She turned to dash back into the downpour. Those fish were her family.

Years ago, they had been caught in a fisherman’s net, only to be saved by the Bradley family matriarch, Mrs. Eva, a pious woman known for her mercy and vegetarian ways. The kind-hearted old lady had paid a fortune to buy and release them.

Stella had taken human form to repay that debt. Her friends, unable to let her go alone, had insisted on coming with her. In all the years Bradley had hated and tormented her, they had been her only source of warmth.

How could she let anyone harm them?

But Stella’s violent reaction only ignited Bradley’s anger. "It’s just a fish. Are you really that stingy?" Genuine bafflement hardened his eyes. "So what if you fed it? It’s livestock. Is my Reese not worthy of eating it?"

"No! Bradley, please! I’ll buy one, the most expensive one..." Stella begged, terror washing over her.

"Enough!" Bradley lost his patience and barked at a maid. "Go catch one. Now!"

"Don’t touch them!"

Stella lunged toward the backyard like a madwoman, only to be yanked back violently by Bradley. "Tie her up!" he ordered coldly. "Let her watch."

A bodyguard stepped forward and bound her hands. She struggled desperately, but could only watch helplessly as a maid walked toward the backyard with a net, listening soon after to the faint, frantic splashing from the direction of the pond.

Tears blurred her vision.

A brilliant silver koi was lifted from the net, twisting frantically. "Aaron... don’t eat my Aaron!" Stella sobbed, struggling until her wrists were raw and bloody.

Right before her eyes, the maid slammed the fish hard against the ground. Crimson splattered.

When it reappeared, Aaron had been gutted, his flesh sliced thin, his skeleton and head arranged on a bed of ice. As the maid placed the platter on the dining table, the fish’s mouth still opened and closed helplessly.

A wave of nausea hit Stella, her insides knotting in agony.

Kathleen picked up her fork, speared a slice of pink-white flesh, dipped it in sauce, and put it in her mouth. She chewed a few times, frowned, then took a napkin and spat it out. "There’s something off about this fish," she murmured, dabbing her lips. "Rather unpleasant."

Reese mimicked her, popping a piece into her mouth before immediately spitting it out. "Yucky fish! Bad fish!"

A metallic, fishy sweetness surged up Stella’s throat. "Guh—"

A mouthful of blood erupted from her lips. Her vision went black as she lost consciousness completely.

Bradley was so startled his cutlery clattered to the floor. His heart clenched as if pricked by something sharp. Instinctively, he moved to untie her, to take her to the hospital.

But Kathleen suddenly clutched her stomach, her face pale. "My stomach hurts so much... Was that fish not fresh?"

Bradley froze, his gaze darting between Kathleen and the unconscious Stella.

Kathleen curled up in pain. "Mr. Bradley, take me to the hospital..."

He didn’t hesitate further. Scooping Kathleen up, he rushed out the door. "Get the car! To the hospital!"

The roar of the engine faded into the distance, leaving the house in dead silence.

Stella lay on the floor, forgotten.

On the ice platter, the fish’s mouth continued to open and close, ever so slowly.

No one saw the single tear that slid from its clear, glassy eye.