Chapter 3

Jiang Muyan had always hated me. Ever since we were kids, she treated me like a threat—like my very existence could steal our stepfather’s affection from her. On the surface, she was the perfect daughter—sweet, obedient, utterly innocent. Behind my back? She was a monster. She framed me for things I didn’t do. She spread lies to turn my mother against me. She sabotaged me at every opportunity. And one day, she went even further. I still remember the sound of her body hitting the stairs. Thud. Thud. Thud. I stood frozen as she tumbled down, her arms flailing, her small frame rolling lifelessly. By the time she hit the bottom, blood stained her forehead. She convulsed on the floor, whimpering weakly. "Jiang Yue pushed me...!" she gasped. The setting sun cast long shadows as my stepfather ran to her side, his face twisted with rage. His furious glare found me instantly. "You little monster," he spat, dialing 911 with shaking hands. Behind him, my mother fell to her knees, hands clasped in desperate apology. "I'm so sorry, Dechang. It’s my fault—I didn’t discipline Jiang Yue properly! She—she hurt Jiang Muyan so badly..." Then she turned on me. The first slap landed across my cheek. Then another. And another. "Mom, I didn’t push her!" I sobbed, trying to shield my face. "I swear, I didn’t—" But she didn’t care. She grabbed me by the hair, dragging me forward. My forehead slammed into the wall with a sickening crack. Pain exploded behind my eyes. The world blurred as I crumpled to the floor, blood dripping from my scalp. Everything went black. The last thing I heard was the wail of ambulance sirens. I woke up hours later in the hospital. Jiang Muyan got away with nothing but a scratch. Me? I had a concussion. Two weeks in the hospital. Stitches. IV drips. She thought she had won. She thought her performance had been flawless—that she’d finally driven me out of the house for good. But she made one mistake. She didn’t notice the neighbors watching. They had seen everything. They spoke up for me. Defended me. They demanded justice. But my mother? She chose “family harmony” over truth. "Let’s just forget it ever happened," she told them with a forced smile. "We’re still a family. Let’s not hold grudges, alright?" Just like that, Jiang Muyan’s plan backfired. But instead of stopping, she got worse. She waited until no one was watching. Then, she made my life a living hell. She trashed the few belongings my father had left me. She stole my room. She hid needles in my bed and laughed when I screamed in pain. I told my mother. I begged her to believe me, but all it took was one fake tear from Jiang Muyan, and my mother’s choice was clear. She never picked me. Even when the truth was undeniable. Even when the evidence was right in front of her. She still chose Jiang Muyan. She always would. ********