Chapter 32

“Xiao Rong, I hate you.”

After these words left her lips, it felt as if a heavy stone had finally fallen from Si Jin’s heart.

Even in this tense and oppressive atmosphere, she felt a trace of relief.

Yet what followed was an absurd contradiction of emotions.

She discovered, to her surprise, that even now she still held a sliver of hope—that Xiao Rong would chuckle lightly and say, “What nonsense are you thinking?”

But Xiao Rong remained silent.

He watched her quietly, his eyes showing no ripple of emotion.

It was even possible that his thoughts weren’t here at all, wholly absorbed in the desire to imprison her image within his gaze.

The last time Xiao Rong had told her to forget everything forever and continue living with him like this, she hadn’t dwelled on it deeply. Instead, she relaxed and accepted his kiss, letting her thoughts drift away soon after.

But now, reflecting on it, she realized it might not have been a casual hypothetical remark. Perhaps he truly meant it.

Back then—no, even before that.

Perhaps from the very moment she woke up and he reached out to pull her close.

Xiao Rong had never intended for her to recover her memories.

Every trace she had noticed seemed to confirm this suspicion. She no longer needed to hear his answer.

Si Jin didn’t know what her lost memories of Xiao Rong were like.

But they likely weren’t beautiful, nor were they sweet.

Perhaps they were like the frequent nightmares she had been having lately.

Dark, confined, terrifying, and filled with fear.

Si Jin lowered her gaze and realized she had been holding Xiao Rong’s hand without noticing. Startled, she instantly withdrew her hand, then grew even more afraid that he would seize it back.

But Xiao Rong didn’t move.

He allowed her to pull her hand away, allowed her to adopt a defensive posture toward him.

How familiar.

Half a year ago, she had been like this too—suddenly guarded against him, exactly as she was now.

Should he deny it?

Deny what she had said and steer the situation back to its intended course.

Xiao Rong’s fingers curled unconsciously.

It was a habitual gesture he often made when holding Si Jin’s hand.

Even when he had her completely enveloped in his palm, he still wanted to tighten his grip, tighter and tighter, until she melted into his very bones and blood.

But now, he grasped at empty air.

Because Si Jin had long since withdrawn and moved away.

He should deny it, because that truly wasn’t what he had in mind.

Xiao Rong glanced down at his empty hand and said slowly, “No, it’s not that I don’t want you to regain your memories.”

Si Jin’s throat tightened, and she exhaled a heavy breath.

She really should mock him for being able to lie so blatantly even at a time like this.

But before she could voice her rebuttal,

Xiao Rong suddenly leaned in closer.

The slight distance she had created was instantly closed, bringing him even nearer.

His towering figure blocked the light streaming through the carriage window.

Outside, the sky was clear and cloudless, yet inside the carriage, a shadow of gloom and oppression descended.

“I don’t want to lose a single fragment of my existence in your mind. More than anyone, I want you to remember, to reclaim my presence. I want to remain whole in your memories.”

Xiao Rong’s words sounded like a lover’s deeply affectionate confession, almost enough to smooth the strained atmosphere back to its original state.

But Si Jin felt a chill run down her spine.

Even her thoughts felt suffocated by his overwhelming presence.

If he hadn’t prevented her from recovering her memories, then why wouldn’t he let her see familiar faces from her past?

This was utterly contradictory.

“Contradictory?” Xiao Rong curled his lips into a smile. “I think so too.”

Xiao Rong still caught her.

Her withdrawn hand was seized back into his palm; her stiff, guarded body was pulled into his embrace.

At some point, his greedy desires had shifted from a sickly urge to suppress himself to an overt craving to possess her outright.

Denial could push the truth, now on the verge of surfacing, back into the unfathomable abyss. He could even pretend to know nothing about her secret meeting with Shen Chi.

He could continue to blindfold her, keep her trapped in a haze where the path ahead was unclear, and prevent her from learning anything.

But now, he wanted to bring his dark intentions into the light.

To be stripped bare, illuminated, and seen completely by her.

So that his future desires could expand and spread without restraint.

“I don’t want to be forgotten by you, but I want to be truly loved by you.”

Si Jin’s pupils abruptly constricted.

Sealed memories cracked open at that moment, making her head throb with pain.

Fragmented images pierced her scalp, each one sharp and unbearable.

Si Jin was so dazed she couldn’t even muster the strength to struggle, allowing Xiao Rong to hold her tightly in his arms.

She heard him whisper in her ear, “Before you forgot me, I never received your love.”

“You’re using deceit to obtain love?”

Si Jin: “Do you really think that’s an equivalent exchange?”

“Equivalent? I can’t find anything of equal value.” Xiao Rong’s voice turned cold. “Then tell me, what can be exchanged for this love?”

Si Jin’s lips parted slightly, but no words came out.

She didn’t know the answer to that question, nor was it one she should answer.

In any case, whatever it was, it shouldn’t be deceit, concealment, or the control she was currently enduring.

And why must she love him, why was she obliged to love him?

Couldn’t she have her own choices?

But in Si Jin’s silence, Xiao Rong laughed.

Yet his eyes were filled with mockery—whether he was ridiculing Si Jin’s futile resistance or deriding his own despicable actions, it was unclear.

A moment later, he wiped all expression from his face, appearing as if nothing had happened, and said indifferently, “Since you have nothing more to say, let’s get off the carriage and return to the estate.”

Si Jin widened her eyes, staring at him in disbelief.

How could he remain so composed?

Xiao Rong ignored her shock, calmly stepping back from her and taking her hand to lead her out of the carriage.

Si Jin suddenly snapped back to reality, struggling to pull her hand from Xiao Rong’s grasp.

Xiao Rong abruptly tightened his grip, holding her firmly.

His gaze fixed intently on her restrained hand, his expression turning cold and dark.

“I truly never received any letters Miss Shen (the third) sent you, but I do have another letter of yours here.”

Si Jin paused, watching Xiao Rong warily.

Xiao Rong: “Come back to the estate with me, and I’ll show it to you.”

This was clearly not an act of repentance on Xiao Rong’s part, but bait to lure her back into his cage.

Bold, blatant, and unafraid to reveal his true intentions to her.

But why did he need to go to such lengths?

When they stepped out of the carriage, the surroundings were once again eerily empty.

Everyone had vanished without a trace once more, leaving only her with Xiao Rong, who held her hand with apparent intimacy—yet the gesture chilled her to the bone, as if she had been plunged into an icy cellar.

They were heading toward the study.

The resistance Si Jin had felt earlier toward this place surged within her once again.

This place must have witnessed many terrible events.

And now, another dark mark was about to be etched here.

She was surprised she still had the mental space to dwell on such trivial thoughts.

The walk was silent between them.

Once inside the study, Si Jin sat in a chair with her back to the door.

A soft click of the door closing signaled Xiao Rong’s approach.

Si Jin straightened her spine, trying to appear composed.

But no matter how she pretended, she could never match Xiao Rong’s genuine, unshakable calm.

Still, when he returned to stand before her, she forced herself to look up at him and spoke first, her voice strained: “The letter?”

Without a word, Xiao Rong walked around the desk, pulled open a drawer, and retrieved an envelope lying on top. It bore no writing, as though it hadn’t been sent from afar but handed over in person.

He held it out to Si Jin.

Her fingers stiffened, hesitating for a moment.

“Not going to read it?”

Of course she would.

She was just wary that Xiao Rong would so easily hand over a letter he had previously concealed.

A sense of foreboding rose within her.

Taking the envelope, her mind raced even before opening it.

Just as she had warned herself earlier not to speak further, she now sensed that whatever she learned from this letter would bring no good news.

Yet, she slowly unfolded it.

In that moment, Si Jin felt nothing but disgust.

Disgust at being forced to face the truth, disgust at having no power to make her own choices.

There was no escape, no way to avoid it.

The events that had already befallen her crashed down like a tidal wave, and she had no idea what she had done to deserve such suffering.

Xiao Rong sat quietly behind the desk, like a madman willingly exposing his own crimes, his gaze fixed on her as if in self-torment, waiting for her to finish reading and react with the expected horror and revulsion.

Halfway through the letter, Si Jin’s emotions erupted.

The paper crumpled under her trembling fingers, tears shimmering in her eyes.

Her voice quivered, almost beyond control, as she stammered incoherently, “This isn’t real… You’re lying to me. This isn’t a letter from my parents…”

Her tears caught Xiao Rong’s eye, and the calm in his dark gaze gradually hardened into a deathly stillness.

Devoid of ripples yet dragging him down with unbearable weight, a rising gloom devoured all reason.

Xiao Rong spoke softly, “It’s true. Your parents departed the capital at the beginning of last month. This letter was written by their own hands and entrusted to me to deliver to you.”

A single tear traced Si Jin’s cheek, then the floodgates burst open.

Why…

Why was this happening…

Even her parents had left.

Everyone—those who had only been connected to her through others’ words, people she could no longer even remember—had abandoned her.

Tears fell like rain, and fear enveloped her in an impenetrable darkness.

Yet it was at this moment that Xiao Rong spoke: “You’ve read the letter. Are you satisfied now?”

Si Jin stared blankly at Xiao Rong, her vision blurred by tears that distorted his appearance into something monstrous and twisted.

How could someone who would say such things not be a sinister, twisted monster?

What was there for her to be satisfied about?

Satisfied that whether she forgot everything or regained her memories, there would never be anyone by her side except Xiao Rong?

The one who was satisfied was him, Xiao Rong.

Xiao Rong had forced all this upon her to fulfill his vile and despicable selfish desires.

And she, unable to offer any resistance, couldn’t even find a way to recover what she had lost.

Because she didn’t even know who they were.

At this moment, it felt as if all the tears in her eyes had dried up. As the last tear fell, her vision gradually cleared, and she saw the complex expression on Xiao Rong’s face.

Just like when she first saw him after waking up.

A mix of sorrow and joy, his dark gaze seeming to swallow her whole.

Si Jin’s lips trembled, her heart resisting, yet she forced herself to speak: “I am not satisfied.”

“You made my closest maid leave, made my dearest friend leave, and even my brother, my parents, my family—you made them all abandon me!”

“I didn’t run away. I’m right here. I’ve already forgotten everything, lost everything. Why did you still have to do this?”

The more Si Jin accused him, the heavier she felt, almost crushed by this overwhelming despair.

She thought to herself that even in the past, she probably hadn’t been a brave or clever person.

She lacked the meticulous mind to strategize and the strong, unyielding courage.

So from the moment she first noticed something amiss, she had hidden like a turtle retracting into its shell, too afraid to face the truth.

Avoidance must have been born from the fear of loss.

But what did she have left to lose now?

Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Pushed to her limit, Si Jin suddenly calmed her breathing, and even the trembling in her eyes gradually stilled.

She had never felt so composed before. Though cornered, she felt an unexpected sense of lightness and liberation.

She fixed her gaze on Xiao Rong and told him, word by word: “I hate you.”

Xiao Rong’s pupils constricted abruptly, his expression turning cold as ice in an instant.

“Take back your words.”

Si Jin’s gaze remained unwavering. For the first time, she felt she could face his chilling, terrifying expression without a flicker of emotion.

She repeated once more: “Xiao Rong, I hate you.”

Xiao Rong abruptly stood up, his tall figure looming before her like a mountain about to collapse.

His face cold, he closed in on her, the oppressive aura around him enough to make anyone retreat in fear.

But Si Jin felt that perhaps she had already been driven mad by him.

Her senses were out of control, her emotions stripped of reason.

She felt no fear, only a surge of emotion controlling her body, compelling her to pour everything out.

“I hate you, I hate you!”

Xiao Rong leaned over her, his icy fingers gripping her neck, his thumb pressing tightly against her throat as if he intended to strangle her.

His voice was hoarse as he commanded her.

“I told you to take back those words.”

Si Jin suddenly laughed.

Her laughter was cold, yet she genuinely felt a strange sense of joy in her heart.

She suddenly understood why Xiao Rong had always worn that peculiar, ill-timed smile in moments of tension.

There are moments when one truly cannot contain the joy within.

“Xiao Rong, what are you panicking about?”

She could feel it.

His palms were broad, yet his fingers lacked strength.

Even the space between his thumb and index finger trembling uncontrollably as it touched her neck.

Si Jin arched her neck, the thrill of retaliation making her breath quicken further, yet this only caused the grip on her neck to grow weaker and more timid.

She stared into his eyes—now it was her turn to force Xiao Rong to hear her words clearly.

“You feel guilty, you’re afraid, none of your actions hold water. Even you know that no one could ever accept what you’ve done, so how dare you expect to earn my love in return?”

Not all outbursts occur amidst the symphony of storms.

The sunlight reached its most dazzling moment in the afternoon, streaming through the windows into the room, bathing both of them in its glow.

Even the shadows exuded a serene comfort under the daylight, yet neither of them felt the slightest warmth in that moment.

Pain twisted viciously in Xiao Rong’s eyes, the veins on the back of his hands bulging, his pulse throbbing visibly beneath the skin.

He suddenly retreated from Si Jin as if defeated, releasing all restraints.

But in the next instant, the sound of a drawer sliding open made Si Jin glance sideways, her gaze falling upon a glaring flash of gold.

Si Jin’s eyes widened in terror. “What are you doing?”

Xiao Rong didn’t answer, already holding the golden ring he had previously gifted her, along with the Gold chain, both shimmering brilliantly in the sunlight.

But the atmosphere was nothing like during their intimate moments.

The unease she had felt back then now surged over her more violently.

Every fiber of Si Jin’s being screamed in resistance.

Without a second thought, she immediately rose to her feet and tried to run.

She had barely taken two steps when an arm wrapped around her waist from behind, lifting her clean off the ground.

Uncontrolled screams, frantic struggles.

Si Jin never imagined she would ever flail about like a madwoman.

“Let me go! Xiao Rong, what are you trying to do? Have you lost your mind? Let me go!”

The moment the door opened, the cries in Si Jin’s throat cut off abruptly, her instinct to maintain composure in front of others taking over.

But she soon realized—

There was no one. Not a single soul around.

The reckless boldness Si Jin had mustered moments ago now dissipated completely.

Xiao Rong carried her over his shoulder, striding purposefully toward Qiu Shui Courtyard.

He remained silent, his gaze dark and unreadable.

Si Jin was thrown onto the bed, unable to evade in time before Xiao Rong grabbed her ankle and fastened the golden ring around it.

“No, I don’t want this, I don’t! Get away from me! Don’t chain me!”

The cold touch sent shivers down Si Jin’s spine, but she couldn’t escape at all.

Xiao Rong’s breath near her ear felt like a chilling wind.

With a sharp click, the golden ring locked into place, the Gold chain now tethering her.

Xiao Rong stepped back to the edge of the bed, standing tall as he looked down at the trapped figure on the bed, his expression finally softening.

He spoke slowly, “I was panicked, and I was afraid. From the day we married, I haven’t felt a moment’s peace.”

Si Jin’s face was deathly pale. In her extreme fear, she tugged frantically at the Gold chain, trying to break it apart.

But all she managed was to bruise her own ankle, the chain emitting a harsh clanking sound as she remained confined to the bed.

Now it was Xiao Rong’s turn to smile.

“But not anymore.”

Si Jin trembled all over at the sight of his expression, her emotions spiraling out of control as she sobbed and cried out, “No, don’t handcuff me, don’t do this. I don’t want to be shackled here. Let me go!”

“Xiao Rong, please don’t do this, let me go…”

“Husband, I beg you, don’t treat me like this. I shouldn’t have said those things. I take them back—I take back everything I said. I don’t hate you, I don’t hate you at all.”

Xiao Rong’s eyes reflected the glimmer of her tears, but the smile on his face gradually turned cold.

He leaned in close again, as if intending to release her restraints because of her repentant pleas.

But his hand didn’t reach for her ankle—instead, he pinched her chin.

His voice was eerily calm as he said, “I’ve changed my mind. Whether you love me or hate me, it doesn’t matter. I want you to never leave me.”

“Alright, I won’t leave you. Just untie me, remove this. I won’t leave you.”

“Swear it.”

“Fine, I sw—”

Xiao Rong tightened his fingers, cutting her off. “Swear by the oath I once made to you.”

The sound of speech, weeping, even breathing—all of it ceased abruptly in that moment.

Tears hung at the corners of Si Jin’s eyes, but not a single word could escape her throat.

Xiao Rong stared at her, his gaze bleak. “Don’t remember? Let me remind you.”

“You will never leave me, you will stay with me forever, always by my side.”

Xiao Rong paused, watching Si Jin’s face.

The more he spoke, the more terror filled her eyes, her entire body screaming with resistance, as if she would never let him have his way.

But Xiao Rong pressed on, forcing her to remember, compelling her to swear the oath.

“If even half a word is false, may I suffer the agony of weeping blood from my eyes, my organs rotting, unable to live or die. Even if tormented to death, may I never find peace in the afterlife.”

Si Jin’s body stiffened, her lips drained of color, her face streaked with disheveled tear stains.

She closed her eyes in despair, feeling as though everything around her had sunk into a dark void.

Her expression and hesitation had long rendered this oath so false that it was bound to bring suffering upon its violation.

Yet, with great difficulty, she twitched the corner of her lips and uttered in a trembling voice, “I… will never leave you. I will always be by your side, with you. If even half a word is false…”

She paused, her lowered eyes filled with terror, her face growing even paler.

But her lips continued to form the words: “If even half a word is false, may I suffer weeping blood from my eyes… Mph—”

Xiao Rong’s thumb, which had been pinching her chin, moved upward, pressing into her mouth, holding down her tongue and silencing her words.

How dare she!

His face cold, anger burning in his eyes, Xiao Rong said, “You said it wrong. Say it again.”

“Wh-what?” Si Jin was forced to look up, her eyes sore and aching, tears still welling.

Her ears buzzed, her thoughts muddled.

Her slightly parted lips, holding Xiao Rong’s thumb, filled her with shame and humiliation.

But the restraints on her ankles forced her to mumble the words again.

“If even half a word is false, may I…”

“Wrong.”

“May I…”

The rest of Si Jin’s words were abruptly cut off by an urgent, furious force.

Cold lips, a heated tongue—the mingling sent shivers down her spine.

If she dared to swear such a false oath, hearing even the first half of it would be enough to satisfy him.

But she kept making mistakes.

He really should have made her repeat the entire first half of the sentence.

Xiao Rong’s murmur was almost inaudible against her lips: “You can’t even swear an oath properly.”

His words were soon swallowed by the wet sounds of their entangled kiss.

This was not an action that could be accepted at this moment.

Si Jin tried to struggle, but Xiao Rong pinned her firmly to the bed.

She pressed her lips tightly together, but they were soon subjected to wet, sticky, and lewd bites.

She cried out, her lips parting once more, allowing Xiao Rong to slip inside.

Her jaw, gripped with immense force, lost all ability to close, and her trapped right leg made even the slightest attempt to turn her head away feel impossible.

Even though moments ago, her hands and feet had been so cold she felt as if she were in a frozen wasteland.

The kiss, lingering to the point of suffocation, gradually spread warmth throughout her body.

So unreasonable, so indifferent to her will.

“Why is it crying so fiercely down there as well?”

A low, hoarse voice reached her, jolting Si Jin back to her senses.

A chill crept along her inner thigh, and as sensation returned to her body, she instantly bit down hard on her lower lip.

But a sound escaped her lips before she could stifle it.

Fingers, calloused.

Rough fingertips, curved knuckles.

Si Jin broke down, sobbing, “I don’t want this! Get away from me! This is coercion! You…”

But even her cries were no longer under her control.

Compared to Xiao Rong’s terrifying possessiveness, she couldn’t even control herself.

The gold chain clinked again.

Si Jin clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms, but the pain couldn’t suppress the other sensations.

Xiao Rong’s voice, now distant, now close, seeped unmistakably into her ears.

“Say you’re willing now, and this won’t be coercion.”

The corners of Xiao Rong’s lips lifted in pleasure. “Willing? Do you want it?”

His fingers pressed down harder.

Si Jin gasped sharply, her throat producing not a single word.

But Xiao Rong laughed. “I heard you.”

Then, without warning, he withdrew his hand.

“No need to answer so loudly.”

The abrupt interruption, the sensation of falling, made Si Jin instinctively clutch his arm.

“Tell me again, you won’t leave me anymore.”

“I won’t…”

Si Jin shook her head, as if struggling, as if in despair, tears streaming silently down her face.

Amid her uncontrollable trembling, she forced the corners of her lips to twist, gritting her teeth as she uttered, “I won’t, I will never, stay by your side.”