The sun had barely risen, casting soft gold over the Huo estate, but the atmosphere in the eastern courtyard was far from peaceful. The distant call of birds contrasted sharply with the tension simmering beneath the surface.Two brothers standing across from each other, the silence between them brittle as glass.
Huo Zeyu stood tall, arms folded, jaw clenched. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes dark and fierce—held a storm.
Huo Shenzhi approached, brows lifted. "Zeyu. You didn't tell me you'll be back early."
"We need to talk," Zeyu said, tone low and clipped.
"If this is about Jiaxuan—" Shenzhi began.
"It is," Zeyu snapped. "Don't try to dismiss it."
Shenzhi exhaled sharply, rubbing his temple. "I don't want to argue."
"I'm not here to argue. I'm here because I saw her. I saw the burns on her skin. I heard her scream."
He took a step closer.
"I saw Xu Roulan walking out of your room in your bathrobe late at night, when everyone was fast asleep. She didn't even try to hide it."
Shenzhi's expression darkened, but he didn't respond.
"And your wife?" Zeyu continued. "She was standing there. Alone. Silent. Dying inside, and still pretending she was fine."
"She's always pretending," Shenzhi growled, the words bitter and sharp. "That's what she does best. Pretend to be good. Pretend to be loyal. Pretend to be broken. And now she's pretending to be a victim."
Zeyu's jaw tensed. "You don't believe she's hurting?"
"She made her choice," Shenzhi spat. "And now she wants me to forget? Forgive? Act like none of it happened?"
Zeyu tried to speak, but Shenzhi cut him off coldly, eyes narrowing as he stepped forward.
"Why are you defending her so much?" he asked, voice low. "You think I don't see it?"
Zeyu frowned. "What are you talking about?"
"You talk like a protector, like a man who's waiting for me to fail." Shenzhi's eyes blazed. "Tell me, Zeyu,do you still love her?"
The question sliced through the air.
Zeyu went still.
Shenzhi let out a bitter chuckle. "That's it, isn't it? That's why it hurts you so much to see her cry. That's why it bothers you when she's not treated like a queen. You still love her. Yet you lied about killing those feelings when I married her."
"That's not true," Zeyu said tightly. "I pity her. I respect her. I want to see her happy—but I don't love her."
"Then why are you standing here," Shenzhi snarled, "acting like you're her husband instead of me?"
Zeyu's fists balled. "Because you're not acting like one."
Silence.
"I don't care if you hate me for saying this," Zeyu went on. "But I won't stand by and watch you destroy a woman who is trying her damned best to fix what's broken. She's hurting, Shenzhi. And if you don't see that, then maybe you don't deserve her."
"She cheated on me," Shenzhi shouted, his voice cracking. "She destroyed me first. She broke me and walked away like it meant nothing!"
Zeyu's tone softened. "And yet you still love her."
"I hate that I do!" Shenzhi cried, eyes wild, tears burning in the corners. "I hate that I look at her and want to hold her and strangle her all at once. I hate that her pain still makes mine worse."
Zeyu stepped back slightly, the fury in his chest replaced by something colder,sadness.
"If you hate her that much," he said, quietly now, "then set her free. Let her go."
Shenzhi shook his head. "She doesn't get to walk away without consequences."
Zeyu met his brother's eyes, unwavering. "Then understand this: if you continue hurting her like this, I will take her away from you. And this time—not even your pride will stop me."
And with that, Zeyu turned, leaving Shenzhi alone in the courtyard, the silence louder than anything.
Meanwhile The garden was supposed to be empty.
Xu Roulan had come out quietly, barefoot on the stone path, wrapped in a thin shawl, pretending to admire the morning roses. But her ears had heard far more than they should have,the truth. The bitterness. The raw pain in Huo Shenzhi's voice when he spoke of his wife. And worse, the confession: he still loved Jiaxuan.
That couldn't happen.
Not when she was this close to finally having him.
She pressed a hand to her chest, breath shallow, her mind racing. And then, like flipping a switch, her expression softened, lips trembling. She approached the courtyard with calculated grace, eyes wide and teary, as if she had just stumbled upon the scene by accident.
"Shenzhi…"
Huo Shenzhi turned, startled. His eyes widened slightly when he saw her clutching her shawl, eyes shimmering with emotion, looking for all the world like a wounded dove.
"I didn't mean to eavesdrop," she said, voice small. "I was just… I wanted to explore nature. I went for a walk and…"
Her voice broke.
"I heard everything."
Shenzhi said nothing. Zeyu had already walked away, leaving the two alone in the open courtyard, the air now heavy with a different kind of tension.
Roulan walked closer, each step deliberate, and placed a delicate hand on his forearm. "I didn't know you were still hurting so much," she whispered. "If I had known… I never would have stayed in this house. I thought you needed me. I thought—"
She looked down, her voice trembling. "I thought maybe, just maybe, I could help you heal."
"Roulan…" he muttered, unsure now. His anger was still fresh, his heart still torn.
She looked up at him, tears glistening in her lashes. "But now I see it. You're still fighting for her. Still hoping for her. And I…" she stepped back, dramatically, her voice cracking—"I must've been nothing more than a burden."
The words struck deep but not because he believed them. It was because they echoed something he'd once told Jiaxuan.
"I never meant to come between you two," she added, turning away. "But if my presence is causing you more pain… I'll leave. I won't ruin your family, Shenzhi."
It was a perfect performance meek, selfless, wounded. And it worked like a charm.
Shenzhi felt his anger blur with confusion. "Roulan, that's not what I meant. Don't… don't say that."
She paused, shoulders shaking as she whispered, "I just wanted to be there for you like I promised I always would."
She turned slightly, giving him a chance to stop her. To reach for her. She knew how this game worked and she was winning again.
And from the shadows beyond the corridor, unnoticed, Jiaxuan stood frozen. She hadn't meant to overhear—but she'd come down to look for Zeyu. Now, her feet felt cemented to the ground.
She watched as her husband consoled another woman.the woman who poured boiling water on her last night.
And for the first time in a long while, Jiaxuan didn't cry.
Her eyes were dry.
Her heart, however, was another story. Xu Roulan's tears hadn't even dried when her gaze flicked slightly to the side and there she was.
Jiaxuan stood just at the edge of the hallway, her expression unreadable, her posture still, as though sculpted from ice. She didn't flinch. Didn't turn away. She simply watched like a witness in a courtroom waiting for judgment.
The moment their eyes met, something shifted in Xu Roulan.
Her tear-stained face lit with something else now—a flicker of panic, quickly molded into false humility. With a breathy gasp, Roulan pulled away from Huo Shenzhi and rushed toward Jiaxuan as if the sight of her had struck her soul.
"Jiaxuan!"
Jiaxuan didn't speak. Her eyes dropped momentarily to Roulan's hand still wearing the ring Shenzhi had gifted her in their first year of marriage. Roulan had slipped it on her finger last night, perhaps by accident—or perhaps not.
"I—" Roulan halted just in front of her, clasping her hands together. "I didn't know you were here. I didn't mean for you to hear that."
A pause. Her voice trembled perfectly.
"I was just… caught in my feelings. I should have never said anything in front of Shenzhi. I should have never stayed here this long. It's all my fault."
Still, Jiaxuan said nothing. Not a twitch, not a word.
Roulan lowered herself suddenly, falling to her knees on the cold floor as if punishment were due. "I was wrong," she sobbed. "Everything I've done,staying in this house, helping out with little Yichen, being close to Shenzhi.it was selfish. I know how it must've looked. But I never meant to ruin your marriage."
Shenzhi blinked, taken aback by her sudden outburst. "Roulan—"
"No," she interrupted with dramatic conviction. "Let me say this."
She grabbed Jiaxuan's hand, lowering her head. "Please forgive me. I've made you look bad. I've made things worse for you. I know I crossed the line. But I just wanted… I just wanted to be needed again. After my miscarriage, after everything I lost… I thought I'd finally found a family again."
Tears poured, pooling at her chin.
"I swear—I won't interfere anymore. I'll leave. I won't take Shenzhi or Yichen from you."
Jiaxuan slowly withdrew her hand.
Her silence was thunderous.
And then, finally, she smiled—but not with warmth. It was a curve of the lips that carried no softness, only sorrow. "You were never just helping," Jiaxuan said quietly. "You were waiting for the right moment to take everything."
Roulan's sob caught.
Shenzhi stepped forward. "Jiaxuan, that's enough—"
"No." Her voice was firm. "I'm not going to be painted as the villain anymore."
She turned to Roulan, her eyes razor-sharp. "You can cry. You can kneel. But you and I both know this is just another performance."
Roulan looked up, shaking her head in mock devastation.
"I don't care what he believes," Jiaxuan added, glancing at Shenzhi. "But don't insult me by pretending."
With that, she walked past both of them.
But not before her eyes met Shenzhi's.
And for the first time, he couldn't read what was behind them.
Not pain. Not heartbreak.
Only distance.
Xu Roulan scrambled to her feet, wiping at her face as Jiaxuan's footsteps faded down the hallway. "I should go after her," she murmured softly, glancing over her shoulder at Huo Shenzhi. "She misunderstood… I should explain—"
"No."
His voice cut clean through the air, sharper than she expected.
Roulan turned to him, blinking. "Shenzhi?"
"Don't," he said again, firmer this time. "Let her be."
There was a long silence between them,pregnant with tension. Shenzhi didn't look at Roulan. His gaze remained fixed on the hallway where Jiaxuan had disappeared, jaw clenched, eyes unreadable. Something within him,buried, coiled, dormant that twitched uncomfortably.
"She needs space," he added, though even he wasn't sure if he said it for Roulan or for himself.
Roulan bit her lip. "But..she thinks I'm trying to come between you two."
Shenzhi still didn't meet her eyes. "And are you?"
The words landed like a slap.
She recoiled, lips parting in protest. " Ofcourse not! I've done nothing but support you and this family. I was there when she left. I helped raise your son when she disappeared. I've only ever wanted what was best for you."
"Then don't chase her," he said, quieter now. "She can do whatever she wants."
A chill ran down Roulan's spine—not because of the cold, but because something had shifted. The warmth he'd shown her… the protection, the allowance,they were suddenly laced with something else.
She stepped forward slightly. "Shenzhi… you don't believe me, do you?"
He didn't answer.
And that silence said more than he ever could.
Jiaxuan stood still in the hallway, her body still feeling the weight of the morning's events, the sharp sting of her wounds left by Rouluan. But Zeyu's words, kind and unwavering, had been a balm to her aching soul. It had been so long since anyone had treated her with gentleness—not as Huo Shenzhi's wife or Rouluan's rival, but as Jiaxuan.
Jiaxuan wiped the edge of her eyes with the back of her hand as she made her way toward the staircase. Her shoulders were tight, lips pressed into a thin line, trying to hold herself together until she could collapse behind the door of her room, where no one would see her fall apart.
But just as she placed her foot on the first step, a voice—soft, familiar—cut through the silence.
"Jiaxuan."
She turned, startled, only to find Zeyu standing in the hallway.
He wasn't in his usual suit. He looked tired, like he hadn't slept properly, but his expression—gentle and steady—was the same. His eyes searched her face, taking in the faint redness of her eyes, the trembling of her fingers, and something sharp flickered through his gaze.
"You were waiting?" she asked, voice barely a whisper.
"I wanted to say hi ."
Jiaxuan's mouth opened, then closed again. She hadn't realized how much she needed someone to simply be there—not to judge, not to lecture, not even to fix it. Just be there.
He took another step closer, breaking the stillness, his eyes softening as he noticed the lingering sadness in her gaze. "You used to paint, didn't you?" he asked, his voice gentle, almost as if testing the waters.
Jiaxuan blinked, her hand moving to her side, almost instinctively. The mention of painting felt like an echo from a past life,one before the endless cycles of hurt and obligations, a life she had left behind without even realizing it.
"I... I did," she replied, her voice trembling ever so slightly, but there was a touch of nostalgia in her tone. "It's been years, though. I haven't touched a brush since... since everything changed."
Zeyu looked at her, his face thoughtful. "I remember your paintings. You used to fill the house with them. The colors, the depth... they were beautiful, Jiaxuan."
A warmth spread through her chest at the memory. She had loved painting, loved how the brush could bring to life whatever was on her mind be it the delicate beauty of nature or the raw emotions she couldn't express in words. She had put so much of herself into those paintings, and now they felt like a distant memory, a piece of her past she had buried deep within herself.
"You used to say that painting was the only time you could truly escape," Zeyu continued, his voice softer now. "That the canvas was where you felt free."
She nodded, a faint smile playing on her lips as she looked up at him. "I forgot that feeling... but I miss it. I miss myself."
Zeyu smiled back, a glimmer of understanding in his eyes. "Then why don't you come with me? Let's paint again. I know a place—a little quiet studio, just outside the city. You can go there and paint for hours, lose yourself in it. Maybe it'll remind you of who you used to be."
Jiaxuan's heart skipped a beat. The idea of painting again, of reconnecting with that part of herself, felt like a lifeline. She had almost forgotten the joy it used to bring her, the way it made her feel alive.
But doubts crept in, as they always did. What if Huo Shenzhi finds out? What if he forbids me from leaving? And yet, a small part of her, a rebellious part she hadn't felt in a long time, wanted to say yes. She wanted to take that step, to rediscover her passions, and maybe—just maybe—find some peace.
"I... I don't know," she said hesitantly, the uncertainty clouding her mind. "What if it's just another escape? What if I'm just trying to run away from everything?"
Zeyu's expression softened, his voice steady. "It's not running away, Jiaxuan. It's rediscovering who you are. You deserve that. You deserve to feel free again, to remember the person you used to be before all this pain. No one should take that from you."
She looked at him, his sincerity shining through. There was a depth to his words, a quiet strength that spoke directly to her heart.
"Maybe... Maybe I'll go with you," she said softly, her resolve building in her chest. "Maybe it's time I paint again. For myself."
Zeyu's face broke into a warm smile. "Then it's settled. We'll go tomorrow. Just you, me, and the canvas. No distractions, no expectations—just paint."
Jiaxuan felt a flicker of hope, something she hadn't felt in so long. The idea of reconnecting with herself, of finding peace in the stroke of a brush, made her feel like there was a chance for her to be whole again.
As she turned to walk upstairs to her room, Zeyu called out to her softly. "Jiaxuan... no matter what happens, I want you to know that you'll always be loved."
She paused, the words sinking deep into her heart. She didn't respond, but the quiet warmth in her chest told her all she needed to know.
For the first time in a long while, she felt like she might just find her way out of the darkness.