"You’re lying! You were the one who forced me to drink—" Celine was filled with pain and indignation, reflexively retorting, but she froze the moment Julian looked at her.

His eyes were like ice.

When he spoke, it carried an invisible pressure: "What kind of tea was it that you had to force Sienna to drink?"

He walked closer and saw that the liquid was clearly sulfuric acid.

Celine dragged her corroded hand, almost begging Julian to believe her. "It wasn't me, it really wasn't me, it was her..."

Julian looked at her face, pale as a sheet, and hesitated for a moment before calling the servants. "Tell me, did Madam really bring this tea?"

The servant looked between Sienna and Celine, then lowered their head and replied, "This tea set is indeed Madam’s, and usually, no one else dares to use it."

With things having reached this point, Celine was unable to defend herself.

Julian cast a disgusted glance at her and roared:

"You toxic woman!"

"I warned you long ago not to hurt Sienna, or I would make you pay the price. Now, suffer the consequences of your own actions."

"Without my orders, no one is allowed to provide treatment to Madam."

Julian held Sienna and left without a second look.

The sulfuric acid had been splashed onto her hand, but it felt as though it had been poured into her heart. Celine’s heart felt as corroded as her flesh.

Three years as husband and wife, she had treated him as the person she trusted most, yet he not only didn't believe her but watched as her hand was destroyed.

As she drifted in and out of consciousness from the pain, she remembered their wedding day. The bells rang, and the priest asked, "Groom, do you take the bride to be your wife, whether in poverty or wealth, in health or sickness, to respect her, protect her, and walk through life with her?"

Julian had held her hand then, promising in front of her parents, "I do."

In the end, it was a complete and utter scam.

He had deceived her parents, and he had deceived her.

Chapter 3

When Celine woke up, it was snowing outside the window.

The skin on her hand still hurt terribly, even beginning to ulcerate. She walked out of the room, intending to go downstairs and find some medicine to dull the pain.

A fragrance drifted from the kitchen.

She saw Julian walking out carrying a bowl of chicken soup. As the curling white steam rose, Celine had a fleeting illusion that he was walking toward her.

However, in the next second, he turned into Sienna’s room.

Sounds of Sienna’s delighted cheers and Julian’s gentle response drifted from the room.

Celine gave a self-deprecating laugh, hearing the servants gossiping:

"I’ve never seen the young master cook chicken soup himself. I think the position of Mrs. Sterling is about to change hands soon."

"Isn't that the truth? Miss Sienna is pregnant with the Sterling family’s flesh and blood, while the one upstairs hasn't laid an egg in three years of marriage. Who knows if there's something wrong with her body?"

Even though she was accustomed to such whispers, Celine still couldn't help but feel her emotions stirred. She walked down the stairs, staring coldly at the servants.

"What are you saying?"

The servants quickly fell silent, guiltily scattering in different directions.

Celine didn't bother arguing with them, knowing it was meaningless to dwell on a group of fickle servants. She only asked, "Where is the painkiller?"

No one answered, so she went to look for it herself, unknowingly ending up in the kitchen.

The soup in the pot was still steaming, and beside it were several other pots that had been boiled away. One could imagine how much effort Julian had poured into creating this one perfect bowl.

And she, in fact, had once drunk chicken soup made by him.

That year, she had a fever and was too weak to move. She had pestered Julian for a long time while lying in bed before he reluctantly agreed to cook for her.

It was a half-cooked bowl of soup that she drank, including the blood scum, without a single complaint. Relying on that shred of warmth, she had loved him for many years.

Overwhelmed by emotion, Celine scooped up a spoonful of soup, but before she could put it to her lips, a scream from behind made her stop.

"Celine, why are you stealing my chicken soup?!"

Julian followed close behind, and the two stood at the doorway, witnessing the scene.

Like a thief caught red-handed trying to taste someone else’s spilled happiness, Celine felt her ears burn red, wishing she could bury herself.

Julian looked at her with a mixture of contempt and pity.

"Julian, she drank the chicken soup you made for me," Sienna acted coquettishly toward him. "That was for me and the baby to nourish our health. Now that she’s touched it, it’s filthy! You have to punish her!"

Julian lovingly stroked the top of her head.

"Everything is up to you."

Sienna immediately looked at Celine triumphantly.

"I’ve heard that Sister Celine used to manage all the chores and was the most virtuous. Why don’t we let her do the laundry for everyone in the mansion? Consider it part of her duty."

Julian reached out to playfully flick her nose.

"Sienna, you are too kind. In that case, do as you say."

He turned to Celine, cold and aloof. "As Mrs. Sterling, your heart isn't even as big as Sienna’s. I really did spoil you too much in the past."

Beneath the long pavilion of the Sterling Estate, snow fell in abundance. A servant dumped a pile of rotting, foul-smelling clothes into a basin, acting imperious:

"There, wash them quickly. Miss Sienna needs to inspect them once you're done."

Celine soaked her hands in the freezing water. The cold seeped through her injured skin, making her feel chilled and pained to the very bone.

Once upon a time, everyone praised her hands as beautiful, saying they were the hands of a true young lady, meant only to hold the hand of a devoted lover, not for manual labor.

Now, with her parents gone, she was a dependent, humiliated and degraded to doing the laundry for the servants.

From behind, the joyous laughter of Sienna and Julian drifted over from time to time. Sienna was making a fuss about wanting to go build a snowman, and Julian, afraid she might slip, followed behind to protect her.

When they passed Celine, Julian paused for a moment. Seeing her ulcerated hands, he unconsciously furrowed his brow. "Why aren't you wearing gloves to wash those?"

Celine was about to answer when Sienna’s call came from not far away: "Julian, what are you looking at? Come over here, quickly."

And so, Julian asked no more and walked straight toward Sienna.

Snow drifted onto Celine’s face. As it melted, she couldn't tell if it was water or tears. She shook her head and sighed with a bitter smile.

Sienna had forced her to wash the clothes by hand, and Julian had been right there the whole time.

Julian, oh Julian, there was no room for me in your eyes, so of course, you wouldn't remember.

When you don't love someone, even their existence is nothing but air.

Fortunately, she hadn't realized too late. Soon, she would soar far away and live a life that truly belonged to her.

Chapter 4

First splashed with sulfuric acid, then forced to wash clothes in freezing water, Celine succumbed to illness just as expected.

She lay in bed, her high fever refusing to break, seeing many faces in her delirium.

There was herself as a young girl, falling in love with Julian at first sight at a banquet.

There were her parents’ earnest warnings before the wedding:

"Julian Sterling is not the right man for you."

There was the day Julian proposed, when she had joyfully thrown herself into his arms, hugging his waist and whispering, "Julian, I love you."

Julian had hugged her back then, his thick eyelashes masking the frost in his eyes, silently accepting her devotion.

There was her life after marriage, tending to Julian with meticulous care, yearning for a response.

Then, everything dissolved into bubbles, and Celine woke up from her dreams in a daze.

She didn't open her eyes immediately, knowing someone was beside her.

A faint fragrance lingered—the scent of cold air on a clear winter day, a sharp, soapy freshness dried by the morning sun.

She had once been so obsessed with the scent of Julian.

Julian said nothing, simply sitting by her bedside in silence, watching her.

After a long while, he reached out to tuck the quilt around her.

Celine’s heart trembled. Before she could open her eyes to show she was awake, she heard a servant approach:

"Young Master Sterling, Miss Sienna says she feels unwell and is fussing to see you."