Ill-Fated People, Repeatedly Tricked by Fate
I stared coldly at Quentin Vance.
I remembered the things he'd done when I was young.
How ironic—commit evil deeds, then try to make up for them with good works. Not genuine kindness, but guilt-driven attempts to buy a better afterlife.
I sighed and walked over to Valerian. "I'm going to wait by the road for Hemlock. Take him back."
"Sure, sister."
Cassian Vance arrived quickly in his car. I climbed in and couldn't help studying his face.
Why had nothing good ever happened to him? He'd never done anything wrong, not in his early life. Why had fate been so relentlessly cruel?
He drove with his usual focus. I watched his profile and realized I'd grown accustomed to seeing him in that mask.
I asked, "You didn't actually come just to pick me up, did you?"
"I'm also walking Major. Dogs need exercise."
I turned around and spotted Major lying quietly in the back seat—he'd been so well-behaved I hadn't even noticed him.
We drove to the docks. Cassian Vance had thought of everything—mineral water, Major's toys. I walked along the beach while the dog bounded happily through the sand, and Cassian Vance sat watching the moon.
He really loved the moon.
I knew why. The dead don't stay in graves. They become stars, keeping you company until dawn. They become a cool breeze brushing your cheek. They become sudden rain, soaking you to the bone. Life and death cannot separate those who love each other—you'll feel their presence.
Cassian Vance had taught me those words. His mother had taught him. And he stared at the sky, night after night—in childhood searching for his father, in adulthood still watching for his parents.
I let Major roll in the sand and sat beside Cassian Vance. Clouds drifted slowly across the moon, plunging everything into absolute darkness except for the glint of Major's eyes.
I said, "Since you can't see each other, take off your mask. Get some air."
"Good idea. I'm tired."
He might have removed it—I couldn't see him anyway.
I didn't know what to say. Just sitting beside him felt like returning to the past. We'd always been each other's light, hadn't we?
Then Ethan Cole's face drifted through my mind.
I was a terrible person. I'd always despised men who couldn't choose between the moon and the red rose. Now I was doing exactly that—I couldn't decide which of them meant more.
Beside me, Cassian Vance took a deep breath.
"Stretching?"
"Exhausted lately."
"Then lie down for a while."
He lay back—and immediately sat up, hitting his head on something. "Ow. Stone. Can't see a thing."
I bit my lip, knelt on the sand, and reached out. My fingers found his cheek and gently guided his head to my lap.
He was trembling. Even his breathing quickened.
His warm cheek pressed against my thigh. I stroked the back of his neck, and his breathing gradually steadied.
"Can you sleep like this?"
"Yes..." A pause, then quietly: "Do you do this for every man?"
I understood why he asked. The same way I'd asked whether he'd done other women's makeup.
I said casually, "I'd do this for my husband. And one other man before him."
"Your husband—what kind of person was he?"
"Kind of dopey and silly. Always thinking of others, always sacrificing, never counting gains or losses. Stuck to his principles his whole life."
"And your other man?"
"He's someone I'll never forget."
"What do you feel for him?"
"Depends on how he treats me."
"I don't understand."
Clouds drifted on the wind. Moonlight began seeping through, adjusting the brightness of the world.
Cassian Vance reached for his mask. I pressed my hand against his face, stopping him.
I leaned down and whispered: "Mubai... did you kill my husband?"
Moonlight flooded the beach.
His whole body trembled.
We stared at each other. The world went silent.
He steadied himself. "And if I did?"
"I'd kill you. Then kill myself."
"For him?"
"Yes. My way of honoring what we had would be giving you a quick death."
He smiled bitterly. "You recognized me long ago. Why didn't you say so?"
"Because I needed to know what kind of person you've become. Now I do—you're still the same Cassian Vance. I know about your father. So I'm asking directly: did you kill my husband?"
"You're interrogating me on his behalf."
"Can't I?"
His voice shook—but not with fear. I could feel him straining to control himself.
"He stole you from me. Now you're questioning me on his behalf. Why? I met you first, didn't I?" His fingers touched my face, fury barely restrained. "People say the greatest regret is meeting too late. But he was the one who came late. Why was I the one stripped of everything?"
I laughed. "You're angry at fate, not at Ethan Cole. Given your character, you're probably grateful he kept you alive—and treated me well. Because you were sentenced to life imprisonment. You had no right to expect anything."
He sighed, suddenly exhausted. "You're right. I don't blame him. He treated you well... I'm possessive by nature, but I'm truly grateful to him. Grateful he kept you alive, grateful he brought us back together."
"Enough dodging. The fire that killed Ethan Cole—did you set it?"
"Yes."
I drove my fingers toward his eyes.
He caught my wrist—ready for the move. "My target wasn't him. Who knew he'd rush into the flames? I waited at the swing set for hours. When I found out you'd married someone else, I never once disturbed your life. I hated him for stealing my beloved, but I never intended to disrupt your world."
"The fire was your doing."
"I didn't mean to kill him! I just wanted to burn those Huang family bastards alive. I was the first to shout fire—to clear innocent people out. When my father died and was burned beyond recognition, I decided they deserved to burn alive for what they did. That's all I wanted!"
"My husband is dead."
"He was lured into that building by Derek Kane. I never wanted him involved. After the gas explosion, everything became extremely dangerous. He insisted on going in. I'd already escaped, but because of him, I had to go back inside. I watched a falling ceiling crush him. I tried to save him, but I couldn't. I nearly died too."
Cassian Vance sat up, jaw clenched. "I could kill anyone in the world, but I never wanted to bring you pain. I know I have no right to stay beside you, yet I can't help being near you. Maya Chen, I tried. But I won't take the blame for something I didn't do wrong. I won't carry that weight—because if I do, we can never go back. My heart is full of grievance and sorrow, full of regret and bitterness! My entire life has been about protecting you, yet the one thing I did for my parents caused you the greatest harm. You know what you mean to me—if even I believe I was wrong, what keeps me alive?"
Fate's cruel joke.
Four simple words, yet my heart was so bitter.
Cassian Vance stormed off without taking the car—leaving it for me. I watched him disappear into the darkness.
Major trotted over, panting. I rubbed his chin. "Major... what do I do?"
"Owooo..."
He'd spent his entire life protecting me. In this world, only he and Ethan Cole had never wanted to hurt me.
He'd only wanted to avenge his parents, but he'd taken an extreme path—one that led to Ethan Cole's death.
I knew that if Derek Kane hadn't tricked Ethan Cole, things wouldn't have ended this way.
But just as Cassian Vance himself couldn't admit—the thing itself was an endless torment.
If a person could truly be rational, why would they need emotions at all?
There on the dark beach, I buried my face in my knees. I didn't cry—just felt hollow. So bitter.
So bitter.
As if heaven were deliberately toying with us, refusing to stop even after breaking us.
Footsteps behind me. I knew it was him.
He wrapped his arms around my waist from behind, pulling me against his chest.
His words dripped with resentment: "We should never have become like this. I met you first. I gracefully stepped aside—I never tried to steal you back. I didn't want him hurt. Not even a little. I'd rather he took good care of you. But it happened anyway, and what could I do? I should've left, but my heart hurts so much... really, it hurts so much, and I can't accept it."
"Then don't hold me like this. Not right now."
"Tell me what I should do. I did something you can't forgive, but I don't want you to hold it against me either."
I could hear his voice cracking, fighting for control.
He'd once been the light of my life.
I'd been the only warmth in his.
Even now, I didn't know what to do. But I could feel his heart breaking—because mine was breaking too.
I ached for Ethan Cole, for myself, and for Cassian Vance.
Had heaven ever been kind to him even once?
I knew how to ease his pain. All I had to do was turn around, kiss him, and his trembling, inexperienced heart would drown in that kiss. His suffering would be briefly, beautifully healed.
Perhaps I'd cry. Perhaps he'd hold me tight.
Right now, if I wanted him to stop hurting, that was the only way.
Except—I didn't want to.
Maybe one day we could fall in love again. But at this moment, from my perspective, I had absolutely zero desire to kiss him. My husband and child's bodies were barely cold!
Years of marriage had taught me: you can raise a man's expectations, you can maintain them, but you must never lower them.
One kiss today would mean I had to keep kissing him.
A girl who offers a kiss today and takes it back tomorrow deals a devastating blow to any man.
Even if I gave in to momentary tenderness—what about tomorrow?
My heart was burning too. Sacrificing myself to comfort someone only turns into suffering for both.
Please—stop him from holding me. I didn't want to kiss him, but I couldn't control myself. I didn't want him to keep hurting. He'd been the best boy, and I refused to let him live out his days in my pity.
Yet I found myself cupping Cassian Vance's face.
Inexperienced in love, his breathing grew heavier. We could feel each other's breath. I parted my lips slightly, letting my breath mingle with his. He trembled violently.
This kiss would give him new life. He'd believe he'd found love. Tonight he'd lie awake, overwhelmed, maybe even cry with joy.
And I'd fall into the abyss.
Never mind. Even if I fall, I'll endure the pain and keep playing the part—to repay what he once did for me.
"SISTER! ARE YOU OUT HERE?"
Valerian's voice rang out.
Thank God. The best possible interruption.
I used to hate it when TV shows interrupted romantic moments. But in real life, at this particular moment—Valerian was our savior.
Cassian Vance scrambled to his feet. I exhaled in relief.
I turned toward Valerian and Juniper's blurry figures approaching in the dark. They'd never looked cuter.
"I should go," Hemlock said, mask back on, turning to leave.
After he'd gone, I finally let the tears fall.
Valerian trotted over. "Sister, we just dropped Quentin Vance off and came to get some air—then Major pounced on us! Scared us half to death. His eyes are so bright. I figured you had to be here!"
I sobbed, "Valerian, you dog-born bastard, GET DOWN!"
"Huh?"
He squatted down, puzzled. I grabbed his head and kissed his forehead. Then I cupped Juniper's face and planted a big kiss on hers too.
"Sister! Too enthusiastic! My face is going to be swollen!"
I wept, "You two useless creatures—you actually have some value. Thank you. You're... you're genuinely good people!"
"Sister, are you trying to compliment us or insult us?"
"I'll never understand the hearts of the powerful."
"Major, can I sleep at your place tonight?" I grabbed Juniper's arm. "I don't want to go back."
Juniper turned to Valerian. "Go sleep in your own room."
"What! My room doesn't have a DOOR!"