Chapter 2

"Hello, I'd like to report an assault."

That night, Julian pushed open my hospital room door.

He wore a black trench coat, his expression grim, but his eyes held a suppressed anger. "Did you call the police? To accuse Hazel of assault?"

"Yes," I met his gaze. "Aggravated assault. That’s enough to file charges."

Julian’s voice was low, his brows furrowed in displeasure. "Her impulsiveness was wrong, but I've already punished her. This matter is over."

"Punished?" I scoffed. "How did you punish her?"

"She has a flighty nature, so I’ve forbidden her from leaving the house for a day."

I blinked, then burst out laughing, my stitches throbbing with the effort.

"I got thirty-something stitches, and you forbade her from leaving the house for a day? Julian, is keeping her indoors really a punishment for her, or are you just protecting her from me, afraid I'll go looking for trouble?"

Julian’s eyes narrowed. "What nonsense are you talking about? Of course it's a punishment."

"I've already withdrawn the report to the police. You don't need to go to any other precinct. In this entire city, no one will take this case."

I gripped the bedsheets, my nails almost digging into my palms.

I had a million things to say, but only one sentence finally pushed its way out—

"Julian, these six years I’ve spent chasing after you, what did you ever see me as?"

"If you didn't care about me, why did you marry me?"

Julian’s frown deepened. "Who said I don't care about you?"

He paused, then continued,

Alright, this is enough. I’ll stay here to look after you for the next few days. After you're discharged, I'll compensate you. Stop making a fuss."

He said it as if he were bestowing a great blessing upon me.

I suddenly found it quite comical.

Yes, it was always me chasing after him, telling him I loved him, begging him to be with me, trying to get him into bed…

He never initiated anything.

Now that he was *voluntarily* staying, wasn't that the greatest blessing of all?

Over the next few days, Julian indeed remained at the hospital to care for me.

He appeared punctually every day, bringing me plain porridge, changing my dressings, and even silently holding my hand when I woke up in pain in the middle of the night.

The old me would have been overjoyed, but now, only desolation filled my heart.

It turns out that loving someone for six years, and letting go, can happen in an instant.

On the day of my discharge, as I walked to the parking lot, I saw Hazel sitting in Julian's car.

Hazel glared at me when she saw me, her face full of displeasure.

Julian frowned. "Hazel, have you forgotten what I told you?"

Hazel then bit her lip, her eyes red, and spoke grudgingly, "Quinn, I'm sorry... I was too impulsive that day."

"Ever since my brother married you, he hasn't wanted to see me for years. He put all his attention on you, that's why I got mad... It won't happen again."

Julian turned to me, his tone calm. "Hazel wants to stay with us for a few days. I hope you two get along well in the future."

On the drive home, Julian and Hazel sat in the front.

I leaned against the window, silently watching the scenery rush by. Yet, in my peripheral vision, I could still see Julian’s profile.

He was always so stoic and self-controlled, but now, his gaze occasionally drifted to Hazel.

Hazel looked down, playing on her phone, then suddenly chuckled. "Julian, look at this guy, isn't he handsome? He just added me on SnapChat."

Julian’s fingers tightened on the steering wheel, his voice low and cold. "Delete him."

"Why?" Hazel pouted. "I'm in my twenties, can't I even date?"

"I said, delete him." His tone was uncompromising.

Hazel pouted but obediently deleted the contact, muttering softly, "Julian, you're stricter than a boyfriend…"

Julian didn't say anything, but I saw the taut line of his jaw.

He was jealous.

When we got home, I went straight to my room without even eating dinner.

I heard the clinking of dishes and forks from outside, Hazel's giggling, the soft, romantic tunes of a movie…

That was a warmth, a domesticity, I’d never experienced in my two years of marriage with Julian.

I buried myself under the covers, my heart aching as if it had been steeped in lemon juice.

I don't know how much time passed before the sounds from outside gradually ceased.

I was thirsty and got up to pour myself a glass of water.

But as soon as I pushed open my bedroom door, I froze—

Moonlight streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, illuminating Julian, half-kneeling by the sofa, silently gazing at a sleeping Hazel.

He was always like an untouchable deity, yet here he was, gazing at his own forbidden idol.

Hazel suddenly stirred, vaguely hooking her arms around his neck, her voice soft and sweet. "Julian, don't leave me… I only have you to care for me…"

Unconsciously, she pulled his neck down.

Their lips unexpectedly touched—

Julian’s pupils dilated, his breathing suddenly ragged.

The next second, as if his last restraint had finally snapped, he could no longer hold back. He leaned in and kissed her fiercely.

Moonlight, like water, spilled across the living room floor.

I stood behind the door, peeking through the half-open crack, watching Julian lean over Hazel, kissing her, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps. His long fingers squeezed her waist, as if unleashing six years of pent-up restraint.

"Hazel…"

"Hazel…"

He whispered her name, his voice low and husky with a tenderness I’d never heard before.

I don't know how long passed before Julian seemed to snap awake. His thumb gently wiped away the moisture from Hazel’s lips.

He put his meditation beads back on, once again becoming that aloof, otherworldly figure.

My fingertips dug deep into my palms, the pain barely keeping me grounded.

I turned abruptly, silently closing the door, and buried myself under the covers.

Outside, the footsteps gradually faded. I knew Julian had gone to his meditation room again.

I closed my eyes, but suddenly remembered every detail of my attempts to seduce him over the years—

I once "accidentally" tripped in a sexy nightgown while he was chanting, only to be caught steadily by his scripture book.

I intentionally delivered a towel while he was showering, but he always managed to wrap himself fully before opening the door.

I pretended to be drunk and collapsed onto him, only to be pushed away by a single finger against my forehead.

He always remained unmoved, as if all my efforts were futile.

But it turned out that for someone truly moved, even a single word could make him lose control completely and fall into irreversible ruin.

Tears streamed down my face, but I quickly wiped them away.

It's okay. I’m not unloved.

From now on, he can love his adopted sister, and I will find my own happiness.

The next morning when I woke up, Julian and Hazel were already eating breakfast.

Hazel touched her lips, muttering, "Julian, do you have mosquitoes in your house? My lips are all swollen."

Julian’s movements paused. His voice was low. "I'll have the housekeeper get you some cream later."

I took the gift box. Opening it, I saw an antique worth over a hundred million.

I tugged at my lips, a hint of sarcasm in my voice. "You're certainly willing to go to great lengths."

Hazel leaned over for a look, her voice tinged with envy. "Julian, you're actually so good to Quinn usually? I thought you were just an old fuddy-duddy who only knew how to meditate and didn't spoil his wife."

I looked up at Julian, but I noticed his gaze was lowered, and he didn’t seem to intend to explain that this gift was actually compensation for Hazel smashing my head.

In truth, he usually didn't care what I liked, nor would he ever bother to choose a gift for me.

He gave a faint "Hmm" and stood up. "Something came up at the office. I'm leaving."

Before he left, he glanced at Hazel, his voice slightly deeper. "Behave yourself at home. You can go anywhere in the villa, except the meditation room."

Hazel looked confused. "Why?"

Julian casually brushed her off with an excuse, but I knew—

His meditation room held his most secret desires.

After breakfast, I went back to my room. I didn't want to be in the same room as Hazel.

But when I woke up from my nap, I found my long hair had been cut unevenly, as if chewed by a dog.

I rushed out, only to see Hazel sitting on the sofa, holding strands of my hair, cheerfully weaving something.

Just one look, and I understood.

"You cut my hair?" My voice trembled.

Hazel looked up, smiling innocently. "Yes, the school needs us to make handicrafts, so I plan to make a wig."

She dangled the hair strands in her hand. "Quinn's hair color is the best, so black and shiny."

A chill ran through me. I couldn’t hold back any longer. I lunged forward and slapped her hard!

*Smack!*

The sharp sound echoed in the living room.

Hazel clutched her face, her eyes instantly turning cold. "You dare to hit me? My brother has always doted on me. He wouldn’t even lay a finger on me. Who do you think you are?"

She yelled for the bodyguards. "Hold her down!"

The bodyguards hesitated, looking at me, then at Hazel.

Hazel narrowed her eyes. "You're my brother's men. Think about it, who's more important in his heart?"

The bodyguards were silent for a moment, then finally came forward and restrained me.

I laughed, tears streaming down my face.

It turned out everyone knew how important Hazel was to Julian.

Only I had spent six years discovering this supposedly earth-shshattering secret.

Before I could react, Hazel raised her hand—

*Smack!*

The first slap landed, a searing pain.

Then came the second, the third…

I struggled desperately, my voice hoarse. "Hazel, don't you worry about your brother coming back and causing trouble for you like this?"

Hazel smiled triumphantly. "Ever since I was little, he's fixed every problem I've caused, including hitting his wife."

She leaned in, whispering in my ear, "Remember, I am his one and only."

After she finished, she continued to slap my face, one after another.

I struggled with all my might, but the bodyguards' hands were like iron clamps, holding me tightly.

*Smack! Smack! Smack!*

A flurry of slaps rained down on my face.

My consciousness began to blur, my cheeks burned with agonizing pain, as if a thousand needles were pricking me.

My vision was blurred by tears, yet I could still make out Hazel’s distorted, malicious grin.

"How many now?" Hazel asked a bodyguard.

"Ninety-nine," the bodyguard replied.

"Then let's make it a hundred," Hazel said with a smile.

The final slap landed with crushing force. I violently spat out a mouthful of blood, my vision went black, and I passed out.

In a daze, I heard the front door being pushed open, and someone asking sharply, "What are you doing?!"

I woke up again, lying in my bedroom bed.

Julian sat on the edge of the bed, his expression calm. "I know everything that happened today."

My throat was dry, my voice hoarse. "And?"

"Hazel has always been spoiled," he said calmly. "I’ve already punished her. Don't take it to heart."

I stared at him. "How did you punish her?"

Julian was silent for a moment, then took a lock of hair from his pocket. "She cut your hair, so she cut a lock of hers as an apology."

I found it utterly absurd. "And what about her slapping me a hundred times? Are you going to say you slapped her once and that's it?"

Julian’s voice remained calm. "Her hand is swollen from hitting you. That counts as punishment."

I froze, then burst out laughing, tears streaming down my face.

I asked myself, "Julian, how did I ever fall for you?"

Just as Julian was about to speak, I violently grabbed the bedside vase and smashed it to the floor!

"Get out!" I roared, my eyes red.

Julian stood up, his voice still calm. "I know you're angry, but the doctor said you need to rest and recover. Calm down."

With that, he turned and left.

The moment the door closed, I could no longer hold back and sobbed uncontrollably.

Over the next few days, Julian, uncharacteristically, stayed at home. Seemingly sensing my foul mood, he even, on a rare occasion, made Hazel apologize to me.

Hazel stood before me, her apology perfunctory. "Quinn, I'm sorry, I was too impulsive that day."

I merely gave her a cold glance, too weary to even speak, and turned into my room, slamming the door shut.

Hazel flinched, immediately clutching Julian, her voice trembling. "Julian, she won't hit me, will she?"

Julian patted her back reassuringly. "With me here, no one will bully you."

No sooner had he spoken than a frantic rummaging sound came from my room.

Julian frowned, about to knock, but the door was abruptly yanked open—

I emerged, clutching a large box, and without so much as a glance at him, walked straight to the living room’s trash can. *Whump!* Everything went in.

Julian’s pupils contracted slightly.

The box contained everything I had meticulously collected over the years that was related to him.

Notes he’d casually written, cups he’d drunk from, the only gift he’d ever given me – a meditation bead bracelet, which I’d begged him relentlessly for.

Now, all of it was tossed out like garbage.

"What do you mean?" His voice was cold.

I dusted my hands off, my tone flat. "Nothing. I don't want them anymore."

Your things, and you, I don't want them anymore.

With that, I turned and walked away, not sparing him another look.

Hazel watched Julian’s face change almost imperceptibly. Feeling a little jealous, she deliberately said, "Julian, aren't you going to go comfort Quinn?"

Julian was silent for a moment, then after a long pause, he said, "No need. She’ll get over it herself. She’ll pick these things back up soon enough."

Just like I’d relentlessly pursued and loved him for six years.

Separated by a wall, I stood in my room, almost laughing out loud at his words.

He was wrong.

Julian Thorne, this time, you are utterly, completely wrong!

That evening, Julian wanted to take Hazel and me to a charity ball.

I didn't want to go, but Julian calmly said, "Your bestie will be there. You've been cooped up at home for so long, don't you want to go out and see her?"

I was silent for a moment, then finally changed my clothes.

Everything that had happened recently was too stifling; I really needed to go out and have a drink with someone.

Throughout the drive, I completely ignored Julian and Hazel, keeping my eyes closed and resting.

Until, halfway there, a sudden loud bang—

*Bang!*

Blinding headlights glared at us. I only had time to see an out-of-control car swerving directly towards us. The next second, the world spun.

When I woke again, the cold metallic smell of rust filled my nostrils.

I struggled to open my eyes, finding myself and Hazel tied to chairs in an abandoned warehouse, our hands bound behind our backs, and bombs strapped to our chests!

I vaguely remembered that before I passed out, the people who emerged from the other crashed car were from the rival Vance family – the son of Julian's business nemesis.

Was he trying to get revenge on the Thorne family by kidnapping Hazel and me?

Hazel was crying incessantly beside me, her voice shrill and piercing. "Is anyone there? Help! Save me! I don't want to die!"

With only a few minutes left on the bomb timer, I quickly forced myself to calm down and began to try to dismantle the bomb on my chest.

But her incessant wailing gave me a headache. I said coldly, "Stop crying. If you don't want to die, then hurry up and dismantle your bomb."

Hazel cried even harder. "Why are you yelling at me? I don't know how to do it! Julian, where are you? I'm so scared… Julian…"

No sooner had she spoken than the warehouse door was suddenly kicked open!

Julian rushed in.

His usually immaculate suit was dusty, his temple bled, and his breathing was ragged. His gaze tightened the moment he saw us.

This was the first time I'd ever seen the serene, almost monastic man look so disheveled.

He had clearly discovered our disappearance after the car crash and immediately sent people to track us down, finding us here as quickly as possible.

With only one minute left until the bomb exploded, and only enough time to disarm one, Julian unhesitatingly chose Hazel.

He quickly worked on Hazel’s bomb, not even looking up. "I… I’ll get her out, then I’ll come right back for you."

I smiled.

But perhaps because I no longer loved him, I felt no pain.

After disarming Hazel's bomb, the countdown showed only twenty seconds remaining.

Hazel clutched Julian's arm tightly, trembling, unable to form words. "Julian! Go! It’s going to explode!"

But for the first time, Julian pushed her away, urging her to leave first, then turned to disarm my bomb.

I abruptly grabbed his hand, pushing him away, my voice calm.

"Julian, take her and go. Remember this: from today onward, I no longer need you. My life and death have nothing to do with you. I am not unloved. If you don't love me, plenty of others do!"

Julian froze.

Hazel cried hysterically beside him. "Julian! I'm so scared! If you don't go, I won't either!"

As the seconds ticked by, getting closer and closer, if they didn't leave soon, all three of us would die here.

In that critical moment, Julian still scooped up Hazel and rushed out.

I closed my eyes, my fingers quickly scrambling over the bomb – I had taken an elective in demolitions in college.

*Click.*

In the very last second, I successfully removed the fuse.

However, the explosion still happened.

As the blast wave threw me backward, I vaguely saw Julian's returning figure.

Hospital.

I opened my eyes, a searing pain in my arm.

Julian sat by the bed. Seeing me awake, he immediately pressed down on my arm. "Don't move. You just had skin grafted to Hazel."

"…What did you say?!"

In a daze, I almost thought I’d misheard him.

Julian was silent for a moment, his voice laced with a rare hint of guilt.

"Hazel’s arm was injured in the blast, and she didn't want to scar. Your skin tone is the closest to hers, so we took some for the graft."

I stared at him in disbelief. "Julian, did you even ask me?"

"I'll compensate you," he said, trying to soothe me. "Didn't you always want to go on a date with me? After you're discharged…"

"Who cares about that!" I violently pulled out the IV needle, blood trickling down the back of my hand. "You can't treat someone like this!"

Julian froze.

"She, Hazel, is your cherished moonlight, and I'm just dirt under your feet, is that it?" My eyes were red, my voice trembling. "You took advantage of my love… you took advantage of me…"

I couldn't continue.

Julian’s chest tightened. He suddenly recalled the words I’d spoken in the warehouse—

*If you don't love me, plenty of others do.*

Just as he was about to speak, his phone rang.

His assistant, Miles, spoke urgently. "Mr. Thorne, the limited edition Princess Diana necklace that Ms. Hazel has always wanted is being auctioned tonight in France. Will you be going…"

Julian murmured an "Mm" and then hung up.

He put away his phone and looked at me. "I'll be abroad for a few days. I'll bring you back a gift."

He paused, then added, "Don't worry, I'll keep my promise about the date. I won't break my word."

With that, he pushed open the door and left quickly.

The moment the door closed, I could no longer endure it. I slowly curled up, hugging myself, tears streaming down my face.

I stayed in the hospital for three days.

On the day of my discharge, I received a call from the consulate – my German permanent residency had been approved.

This was the only good news I'd heard recently.

I stood outside the consulate, the sunlight so bright it made me want to cry.

I raised a hand to shield my eyes. The wedding ring on my ring finger was long gone, leaving only a faint, pale mark.

It was time to end it.

After collecting my permanent residency at the consulate, I went straight to a law firm, drafted the divorce papers, signed my name, and then called Hazel.

"Meet me."

In the coffee shop, Hazel glared at me warily. "What do you want? I warn you, if Julian finds out you're bullying me…"

I said nothing, simply took the wedding ring from my purse and pushed it across the table to Hazel.

"Try it on."

Hazel looked at me suspiciously, but then, as if compelled, she reached out and slipped the ring onto her ring finger – a perfect fit.

"You…" She froze.

I smiled. "Haven't you always wanted to know why your brother suddenly started avoiding you?"

Hazel’s fingers trembled slightly.

"Alright, I'll tell you the truth," I stared into her eyes, enunciating each word. "He avoided you, not because he married me, and not because you made him angry. It's because he loves you."

"In his meditation room, he keeps a lifelike doll that looks exactly like you."

"He uses that doll to release his desires every day."

"The night you moved into our house, when you fell asleep on the sofa, he secretly kissed you for three minutes."

"This ring, he had it custom-made to your size. The person he always wanted to marry was you."

In just a few short sentences, Hazel’s face instantly changed. Shock, disbelief, shame, joy… countless emotions swirled in her eyes.

I looked at her and suddenly felt a bitter amusement.

Julian was afraid to tell Hazel his true feelings, afraid of losing her, so he used devout practices to forcefully suppress his desires.

But he didn't know that Hazel loved him too.

I stood up, took a signed divorce agreement from my bag, and pushed it across the table to her. "When he gets back, give him this. Tell him I wish you both a hundred years of happiness."

I turned to leave, but Hazel finally recovered, calling out to me. "Quinn, where are you going?"

I didn't look back. "I'm divorced. Of course, I'm going to live my own life. From now on, your brother and sister's affairs have nothing to do with me."

"And, Hazel, if you ever dare to touch me again, I will repay it a hundredfold!"

Airport.

I dragged my suitcase. Before boarding, my phone suddenly vibrated.

I looked down. It was a message from Julian—

An image, with the caption: *Landed. Got you a gift.*

I tapped it open. It was a simple bracelet, without even a gift box.

I smiled faintly.

I knew this was just a bonus.

He had gone abroad this time to bid on that Princess Diana necklace for Hazel.

And I was just an afterthought.

But I wasn't sad.

Because, Julian, I don't love you anymore, so you can never hurt me again.

I held my boarding pass and walked quickly towards the gate. As I looked up, I happened to see Julian emerging from the VIP arrival gate in the distance, dressed in a black trench coat, his expression cold and stern.

I didn't call out to him. I just watched him walk away.

Julian, happy divorce. I wish you freedom,

And I, wish myself release.

The next second, I unhesitatingly blocked all his contact information, turned, and walked in the opposite direction!

5.