I went blind saving an old woman with white hair. The whole city was talking—Miss Pennington was going to repay my kindness by making me her grandson’s wife. But no one knew the truth—it wasn’t gratitude. It was atonement. When Luke Pennington first saw me, he sneered, "You’re a good actor. A delivery guy willing to risk your life for a hundred thousand in reward money?" He thought I was just another poor scammer, kneeling outside the hospital, faking a sob story for sympathy. I didn’t explain. Because that night, the rain was too heavy, the ambulance lights too blinding—I only remembered how her falling silhouette reminded me of the old grandmother who once gave me a warm bowl of noodles as a child. So I said, "Fine. I’ll marry you." On the eve of the wedding, he stormed into my room with a bottle of red wine, mocking, "Name your price. How much to walk away? The Penningtons won’t let you down if you divorce quietly." I didn’t speak. I stepped off the bed barefoot, trembling hands sliding down his pants, fingertips brushing the tip of his leather shoe. Then gently, I held it. He froze. After that, he started coming every day to put eye drops in my eyes. His fingers always paused slightly against my eyelids. Smiling, I asked, "What are you looking at?" "You," he said. "Making sure you're really blind." I replied, "You’re not ugly. You just don’t want to be seen." Then she appeared—my so-called “mother.” Dressed in cheap clothes, she took the check and tore up the contract in front of Luke. "This marriage is a transaction. She knew the chairman was your grandmother all along. Every move was calculated!" Luke turned and left without a word. The night he threw the engagement ring into the fountain, the entire Pennington family laughed at how foolish I was. But three days later, I removed my sunglasses in court, facing the judge and the press. "There’s something I’d like to say now." "I’m not Joedy. The real Joedy died in a fire three years ago." "And I… am the illegitimate daughter you abandoned in that burning house." The courtroom erupted. Security footage played—showing me rushing into the smoke to save someone. And that “mother”? A nurse paid to take my place. I stood, turning toward Luke in the gallery, his face pale. "You said this marriage was fake." "But tell me—of every tear I’ve shed for you, which one wasn’t real?" Silence swept the hall. Suddenly, he stood, walked slowly toward me, knelt on one knee, and slipped an old ring back onto my finger—the one he had secretly carved by hand when I wasn’t looking. "Joedy," his voice cracked, "this time… let me beg you. Don’t go." Outside, sunlight poured through the windows. I closed my eyes—but for the first time, I truly “saw” the light.

She was once the divine fated maiden of the celestial realm, sovereign of starry rivers and cosmic cycles, worshipped by all living beings. Yet for his whispered promise—“Let us grow old together in the mortal world”—she severed her emotional roots, cast away her godly essence, and fell into the human realm. In three days, her soul would scatter—mortal flesh could not contain a divine spirit; the only choices were death or madness. But in these final three days, she had not come to say goodbye. She had come to settle the score. On the night of the imperial banquet, golden chalices raised beneath the moon, music filling the air, he held his newly favored concubine close, laughing as my child convulsed on the floor. Chanting an incantation, he declared: “This child brings doom upon his father. He must die.” The entire hall of nobles bowed their heads in silence, awaiting his command to bury my son alive as a sacrificial offering. I rose slowly, my gown stained with blood. “A curse? Very well,” I said, slashing my wrist and flinging crimson into the sky. “By my divine fate I summon it, witnessed by the Seven Stars—any who dare harm my child shall suffer backlash within three days: their homes destroyed, their line erased!” He screamed in terror: “Stop! Didn’t you swear never to use your powers again?” I laughed coldly. “Did you ever swear to never betray me?” Before the words faded, a sword pierced my heart— driven through by his own hand. Blood trickled from my lips… yet I smiled. For the heavens began to crack apart— A beam of golden light split the sky, and the Nine Celestial Gates crashed open! Countless divine attendants knelt in reverence as phoenix carriages descended from above. A voice echoed from beyond the cosmos: 「The Fated One returns. The rebellious shall be punished！」 I pulled the blade from my chest, letting sacred blood drench the clouds. With one step forward, lotuses bloomed beneath my feet, and ten thousand thunderbolts followed in my wake. “You can’t escape!” he shrieked from the pool of blood, his heart torn to shreds. “I killed the child you loved most! I burned every temple built in your name! And still, you dare return to heaven?!” I paused, turning for one final glance. The wind swept up my thousand-foot-long silver hair. My eyes held no more tenderness, only a final truth: “From the moment you raised your hand against them—” “I ceased to be your woman.” In an instant, heavenly fire rained down, reducing the palace to ashes. And I soared into the void, leaving behind life and death, never to look back.

That night at the party, the lights shattered into stardust, and the music pounded so hard it made my heart tremble. In the hazy glow, I kissed Logan Carter—quarterback of the football team, a name every girl on campus dreamed of. He pinned me against the wall, his breath scorching, as if he could burn right through me. I thought it was the beginning of fate. But the next morning, my phone wouldn’t stop vibrating. Victoria’s voice was ice: “Hana, you slept with Jack last night.” I froze. “What?” “The security footage shows you leaving the storage room wearing his jacket. And Logan… he spent the whole night drinking on the rooftop. He never even went inside.” I tried to speak, but my memory was blank. All I could recall were arms around me, a low, husky voice, and… darkness, thick and endless. Three months later, two red lines burned into my vision on the pregnancy test. Who was the father? I didn’t know. Jack said it wasn’t him. Logan sneered, “You really think I’d touch a girl who’d sleep with one of my teammates?” I dropped out, vanished without a trace. For five years, I sang in smoky bars, drowning memories in whiskey. When Mason turned three, I taught him his first song. He tilted his head and asked, “Mommy, why doesn’t Daddy come?” That night, the doorbell rang. Standing outside was Logan Carter in a tailored suit, holding a DNA report, his eyes sharp as blades: “I ran a lineage check. Mason… is my son.” Before I could react, Victoria appeared at the corner of the street, holding a yellowed photograph—the backstage security still from that night. In it, a figure disguised as Logan was leading my drunken body toward a hidden door. “You thought it was him?” she whispered, smiling. “But that night… the man who held you was never him.” The porch light flickered, on the verge of going out. And at last, the rusted gears of fate began to turn.

On Valentine's night, nurse Lydia Hale saves a dying stranger—then learns he's Soren Moretti, a feared mafia king. He offers a brutal ultimatum: marry him or die. Trapped in his dangerous world, desire clashes with defiance. As a 30-day love contract ends, Lydia must choose freedom—or life beside a ruthless mafia king.

The day I drowned, my heart stopped for seventeen minutes. Security footage showed Carter rushing into the emergency room with me in his arms, his suit soaked, tears streaming down his face, screaming over and over, "Zoey, don't leave me." The entire city's media hailed him as the "devoted husband." Even the doctors were moved to tears. But when I woke up in the ICU, the first thing I heard was his hushed voice saying to Ashley: "Can you stop acting now? If she'd actually died, the insurance payout would've cleared by tomorrow." Suddenly, the chat exploded: [Holy crap, run! That guy took out a massive life insurance policy three months ago!] [They’ve already secretly adopted a child through that mistress!] [DNA test shows sedatives in her system before drowning—this was attempted murder!!] I stared at the ceiling, not a single tear falling. That so-called "accident"? He held me under the pool himself. And the baby I had fought so hard to protect miscarried on the way to the hospital—they’d even destroyed the embryonic tissue. Three months later, I returned as a senior research advisor at the biotech company Carter funded. In the lab, I used my remaining frozen eggs and anonymous donor sperm to create an embryo. Publicly, I announced I was pregnant out of wedlock. On the day the news broke, he shattered his coffee cup in front of everyone. Now I stand outside a supermarket, pushing a stroller, watching coldly as he holds Ashley’s hand while they browse infant formula. I turn and walk away, coat billowing behind me, lips curling into a faint smile. My phone vibrates. A message from my assistant: [Madam, the paternity test results have been submitted to court. The three gene companies under your name have merged—lawsuit ready at your command.] [Also, we found the dashcam footage from the night of the "accident."] I glance down at the baby sleeping in my arms— the child I carried alone, born from a frozen embryo. My tears dried up long ago. Now, it's their turn to beg for mercy.

After seven years of marriage, Hermione endures her husband Christopher’s cold indifference, believing she can one day warm his heart. On her birthday, she flies to LA only to find him celebrating with another woman, even letting their daughter call her “Mom.” Heartbroken, Hermione leaves to reclaim her ballet career. As she rises to fame, Christopher realizes he loved her all along—but it’s too late.,