Looking back, my sister was the classic “all heart, zero brain” romantic, the exact kind of woman who falls headfirst into love traps. To save her from herself, I spent every single day whispering dark truths into her ear like a little demon:

The direct consequence of my brainwashing came on a quiet morning when Huo Lianzhou, the nephew, sporting his polished silver-rimmed glasses, smiled at me and asked:

“Auntie, Zhian muttered something odd in her sleep last night. Mind explaining it to me? Something about… smart girls not falling in love?“

I froze.

After seeing Lianzhou off to work, I dragged my sister to a luxury spa for a little “mental trauma recovery.” That’s where the hot gossip broke: the Shing family in Nancheng was going under.

The smile instantly died on my sister’s face. Everyone knew the Shing family’s heiress, Shing Ha, was Lianzhou’s precious childhood sweetheart, the girl he loved beyond all reason. And my sister? She was nothing more than the rebound substitute he picked up while nursing a broken heart.

Over the next few days, she was visibly unravelling. I tried to pull her aside for a serious heart-to-heart, but my plans were repeatedly wrecked by Huo Lantu, my cold, commanding husband.

Before this, Lantu was the ultimate workaholic. To him, work was his real wife, and I was just an accessory he wore to galas. Coming home late was his default. But lately, it was like he’d been possessed. He started coming home early every single day. One minute he was pulling me onto his lap to watch a movie, the next he was dragging me into video games. It sounded harmless enough, except it always ended the exact same way: under the sheets.

Eventually, I couldn’t take it anymore. Clinging to his waist, I sobbed, “Uncle… I’m exhausted… please, give me a break…”

Lantu froze, his muscles coiling tight beneath my touch. He leaned down until his lips were brushing mine, his deep voice thick with friction. “Ninh… what did you just call me?”

“Uncle…” I whimpered, my mind a complete haze.

A low chuckle escaped his chest as his voice softened. “Good girl. Don’t cry.”

He sounded impossibly gentle. His actions, however, were anything but.

Thankfully, the two Huo men had a month-long business trip to the US. The moment they left, I felt like I’d been granted a second life. But just as I headed down to the garage to find my sister, I caught her hauling a massive suitcase, sneaking toward the side exit.

My heart shattered in dramatic betrayal. “You’re running away without telling me?!”

Khương Zhian slunk back, whispering, “I’m sorry, Ninh… I failed you…”

As it turned out, she had actually fallen for Huo Lianzhou. And once real feelings were involved, she couldn’t stand playing the “contract wife” anymore while watching him pine over his childhood sweetheart. Love breeds anxiety; love breeds fear. She chose to bow out gracefully so he could be with his first love.

I listened in silence for three seconds before cutting straight to the chase. “And that’s your excuse for not inviting me?”

She gritted her teeth. “Well… are you coming or not?!”

A brilliant smile broke across my face. “Hell yes!”

With me calling the shots, my sister got a 200% courage boost. I pulled out a crumpled wad of paper containing my life’s grandest blueprints: Jumping off a cliff, Arson, Volcano leap… In the end, we settled on the ultimate classic: Faking a drowning at sea.

We threw a lavish yacht party. To play the part of the devoted, attention-seeking wife before going missing, I even snapped a sultry bikini photo and sent it to Lantu: Do you think I look pretty, Mr. Huo? He didn’t reply right away, whether he was busy or plotting something, I had no idea.

That night, amidst the thunderous explosion of fireworks and the chaotic crowd, Zhian “accidentally” slipped into the ocean. I immediately dived in after her, playing the heartbroken, self-sacrificing younger sister to perfection. Two Mrs. Huos vanished into the raging dark waves, no bodies, no trace.

While the rest of the high-society world went into complete meltdown, my sister and I were already in Prague, lazily tossing breadcrumbs to pigeons in the square.

I was scrolling through the tabloid headlines when I stumbled upon a photo from my own memorial service.

It was a blurry shot of Huo Lantu. He looked gaunt, hollowed out, and the thick black hair I used to run my fingers through had turned stark white overnight.

In that split second, a sharp, suffocating pain struck my chest, like a sledgehammer driving right through my ribs. It hurt so badly I could barely catch my breath.

But I was stubborn to the core. “Hmph. Men are all actors. Though I have to admit… that white dye job looks dangerously good. Wish I had his stylist’s contact.”

Zhian whispered beside me, “Maybe… maybe we shouldn’t run? We could have just gotten a divorce…”

I pulled her into an embrace, patting her back gently. “You honestly think our old man would’ve let us divorce the Huo family? We’ve already burned the bridge, Sis. The only way out is forward.”

To be fair, aside from ruining my sleep schedule in bed, Lantu had treated me remarkably well. Beneath that icy exterior, he was attentively observant: he knew I liked walking barefoot, so he had plush carpets installed throughout the entire mansion; he knew I hated high heels, so he never let go of my hand at formal events. He had even bailed my father’s failing company out with a multi-billion-dollar project.

Maybe… I had fallen for him just a little bit, too.

But for me, blood comes first. And Khương Zhian matters more than any man in this world.