Chapter 3

Once inside, the scene that greeted me pierced my heart like a sharp blade.

Julian had transformed the secret room into a private cinema.

On the best display screen money could buy, a video was playing: Briana in college, practicing vascular sutures on a white mouse.

Briana’s pores were clearly visible, as if I could reach out and touch her.

Her hands weren't steady enough; the needle pierced right through the mouse’s heart, killing it instantly.

Despite such clumsy technique, such idiotic操作, Julian had overlaid the video with heart stickers and a caption:

“October 3rd, 2018, Sunny. My dearest Briana, a future medical star, you look so beautiful when you’re focused.”

I once wanted to record our daily life after marriage, to keep as memories for our old age.

Julian had told me that true memories should only be kept in the heart, and we shouldn’t waste time on such meaningless things.

Yet, he had recorded so many videos of Briana’s daily life and work.

The playlist held over a thousand videos, more than the days we’d been married. Each one was accompanied by his heartfelt confessions.

In the secret room, there were also a dozen small wooden shelves, displaying hundreds of bottles of women’s hand cream.

When I was still a doctor, I’d seen a similar bottle in Briana’s bag.

Curious, I’d asked her where she bought it. Briana had scoffed:

“Ellie, don’t even think about it. You can’t buy it, and you can’t afford it. This was specially formulated for me by an international master, commissioned by someone who loves me. The ingredients are expensive and rare, the best for nourishing skin. One bottle costs hundreds of thousands!”

It turned out that 'someone' was Julian.

Three years of marriage, and I had never received such favoritism.

But what truly broke my heart was the comic poster titled ‘Briana’s Dream.’

A cartoon version of Briana was depicted, battling her way through, winning the ‘Golden Scalpel’ championship, and becoming Dr. Reed’s disciple.

Next to it was Julian’s handwriting:

“Briana, I will definitely lead you to the pinnacle.”

And on this path to the pinnacle, I saw my own image: covered in blood, my fingers crushed to pulp, lying in a pool of blood.

My face was crossed out with a vivid red 'X,' and a note read: Briana’s Obstacle, resolved.

Tears streamed down my face uncontrollably. I booked a plane ticket for three days later.

Julian, since I was such an eyesore to you, I would leave for good.

As for your Briana, she’d enjoyed my pain and spilled blood for long enough. It was time for it to end.

I returned to the villa and drafted a divorce agreement on my phone. To leave with nothing was easy; there were plenty of templates.

I sat on the sofa, staring blankly at my mutilated hands, sleepless through the night.

The next morning, Julian, assuming I had simply woken up early, didn’t suspect a thing.

He pulled out a thumb-sized tube of hand cream and meticulously massaged it into my hands.

“Ellie, this is a new product developed by an international master. It can nourish your skin and help it regenerate. It’s incredibly hard to get; I finally managed to buy just one tube. It’s perfect for you.”

Looking at the hand cream, I inwardly scoffed.

This was a free sample he got from buying Briana’s expensive hand creams, piled up in dusty boxes in the corner of the secret room.

Before I could even suggest divorce, Julian hurriedly got dressed and left.

“Ellie, things are a bit chaotic outside lately. Stay home, be good, and don’t run around.”

No sooner had he walked out the front door than I pulled out my phone.

The recording device I’d secretly placed in his car transmitted Julian and his assistant, Mr. Davies, talking.