Outside Yerlington Manor, a Porsche finally stopped rocking. Inside the car, Margot Good tugged her dress zipper up as if nothing had happened. Christian Yale sat rigidly to the side, staring into space. A chill crawled up his spine. Margot Good, the boss lady of Celestial Nightclub, had been drinking with a few close girlfriends until she was pleasantly buzzed. Christian was only a waiter, yet he had gotten "lucky" enough to be singled out to personally drive this big-shot woman back to Sheshan. Only, the moment the car came to a steady stop… His five years of impotence cleared up, just like that, without him even understanding how. He was the one who'd been wronged, but if word got out, who would believe him? A gorgeous woman with money, status, and connections forcing herself on some broke nobody? Yeah, right. Like a toad dreaming of swan meat. Worse, getting tangled up with someone like her was never a good thing… Margot Good lit a slim ladies' cigarette. A cool minty breath drifted across Christian's cheek as she spoke, calm and detached. "Go home. Pretend nothing happened tonight. If I need you, I'll call." "Y-Yes… okay!" Christian stammered. "I'll head back right away!" He shuddered and bolted as if his life depended on it. Margot Good watched his retreating back and muttered to herself, "Am I insane? Of all people, I picked the most timid one?" … By the time Christian returned to his rented apartment, dawn was close. The living room lights were off. Only the bathroom carried the steady rush of water. He sank onto the sofa, exhausted, and stared at the hazy silhouette shifting behind the frosted glass. Steam seeped through the door crack, bringing the sweet scent of body wash. It should have been comforting, yet a restless heat stirred deep inside him for no reason at all. He and Abby Heyland had been together for four years in college. But for those four years, he'd been impotent. Even after graduation, he was still impotent. Five years. Five full years. And yet Abby had refused every suitor after graduation and chose to marry him anyway. She'd said she loved him for who he was. That line had lit him up like a shot of adrenaline. After they married, Christian worked himself to the bone. Deliveries by day. Drinks at nightclubs by night. Any job, any shift, anything that paid. Even when Abby's family business collapsed and left them with a two-million-yuan hole, he swallowed it without a word, shouldering it all until he was drowning in debt himself. He still thought it was worth it. As long as they were together, as long as love remained, they could endure any hardship and claw their way out. But the body that had been dead silent for five years had awakened… with Margot Good. He thought he should make it up to his wife. He should thank her for five years of quiet patience and waiting. Listening to the water, his breathing grew heavier. Then a WeChat notification chimed from Abby's purse beside the sofa. Then another. And another. Christian reached in and pulled out her phone. The screen wasn't locked. He meant to put it back, but a contact name caught his eye: "Bo-Bo." Elliot Casson. Abby's "guy best friend." The one who had introduced Christian to work at Celestial Nightclub. Christian had always felt something was off in the way Elliot looked at Abby, but Abby insisted they were just pure friends… Christian had believed her. He didn't know why, but his finger moved on its own, opening the chat. The newest messages stabbed straight into his eyes. [Elliot Casson: Little Jing, did you finish the task? You drugged him today, right?] [Abby Heyland: Master, I did it ages ago. I put it in the coffee he drank before work. This time I doubled it hard. He'll stay useless.] [Elliot Casson: Hahaha! That's how it should be. Make sure he can't get it up for life. That's the fun part.] [Abby Heyland: Master, you're so bad. Once he's completely ruined, I'll service you right in front of him. Just imagining his powerless, furious face makes me excited.] [Elliot Casson: You're way sicker than me. He'll die without ever figuring it out. You're a freak, and I'm an even bigger freak!] [Abby Heyland: Don't talk about yourself like that… When he breaks and jumps off a building, we'll take that insurance money for my family. Then I'll do anything you want.] … Christian: "???" No… So his five years of impotence hadn't been an accident. It hadn't been an illness. It had been Abby and Elliot drugging him together? Abby had studied medicine. She even worked at a hospital. Of course she could do it. He just hadn't imagined… That the two of them would treat him like part of some game. That they'd take pleasure in his misery, even plan to destroy him in the end. For a moment, Abby's everyday gentleness flashed through his mind. Her caring voice. Her concerned eyes. Then Elliot's face floated up too, every time he'd met Christian and praised Abby like she was some prize. All of it was fake. Every last bit. Those two animals should have been actors. It would've been a waste otherwise. Christian sat there for a long time. He even smoked a cigarette before it finally clicked into place. Five years ago, two perverts had already set their sights on him. Right then, the water stopped. Abby stepped out wrapped in a towel. The heat had flushed her cheeks, and her figure showed in soft, tempting outlines beneath the fabric. No wonder she'd been the class beauty back then. But the instant she saw Christian on the sofa, her expression snapped. "Ah-Chen? Why are you back so ear-" Her voice cut off. She saw the phone in his hand. Panic hit her like a wave. She lunged to snatch it. "Why do you have my phone? Give it back!" As if. If Christian found out what was on it, she was finished. But Christian didn't give her the chance. He shoved her away with one hard push. "Ah!" Abby stumbled and dropped beside the coffee table. The towel slipped halfway open. She clutched it to her chest, shocked and furious. "Christian Yale, are you insane? You stole my phone and you shoved me?" "Shut up!" Christian rose from the sofa. His eyes were bloodshot, his voice tight with ice. "My impotence… was it you and Elliot Casson?" Abby's pupils shrank. "Y-You… what are you talking about? I don't know what you mean!" "You don't?" Christian held the phone up. The screen's glow painted his face a sickly, stormy green. "Having fun doing your master's little tasks? Drugging me for five years, waiting to ruin me completely, then putting on a show right in front of me? Abby Heyland, you disgust me." So this pathetic cuck actually found out. Abby's heart sank. But since the mask was already torn off, she stopped pretending. "So what if it was?" "Christian Yale, you didn't seriously think I married you because I loved you, did you?" "Since college you've been poor and spineless. Just looking at you made me sick." "Being with Elliot is exciting. Trash like you is only good for a laugh." "Watching you work like a dog for my little debt, grinding day and night, thinking you were some noble hero…" "Elliot and I laughed ourselves sick behind your back!" "Five years. You've been a pretty obedient piece of free labor. So, now that you know, are you falling apart? Do you want to die?" As she spoke, she pointed toward the balcony, laughing coldly. "Then go die. Jump from there." "Everything ends. You're useless even if you keep living." The nerve. She didn't just have no shame, she was doubling down. Christian's fury detonated. He surged forward, grabbed a fistful of her hair, and dragged her toward the sofa. There was no gentleness in him at all, only raw, brutal force. His voice turned glacial. "One year of marriage. It's about time I stopped being blind." Abby panicked and fought wildly. "You wouldn't dare! Elliot is the godson of the owner of Celestial Nightclub!" "If he finds out you touched me, you won't just lose your job. You'll die ugly!" Christian hurled her into the sofa. "Even if his real son shows up, it won't matter. We're legally married!" "You betrayed me first. You tried to ruin me. And you still dare threaten me with some stray man?" "Fine. I'll make it clear. When I had you in my heart, you were a moonlit dream on a pedestal. When I don't, you're nothing but filth." He swung his hand and slapped her across the face.