He is born never to be lost in the mortal world

Sharon had grown up in the Jiang household, betrothed to the eldest son, Evan, since they were children.

When Evan was kidnapped at eighteen, she volunteered to take his place.

For three days, they gave her no food or water. Burning with a 104-degree fever, she nearly died before finally staggering back to the Jiang estate.

But the first words she heard were Evan’s, spoken coldly to his parents:

“I won’t marry Sharon. She was trapped in that den of thieves for three days—who knows what happened to her?”

“If you want to keep the engagement, send her to the Institute of Female Virtue. Let them scrub her clean.”

On her first day at the Institute, they stripped her naked and performed the “Verification”—a brutal, archaic ritual meant to certify her virginity.

On the second, she cooked ninety-nine separate dishes, then spent the entire night on her knees, scrubbing floors.

On the third, they forced her to dance barefoot on a red-hot iron plate.

Four years later, Sharon was finally released. Her first act was to visit the crematorium and order a sandalwood urn for her own ashes.

“Miss Sharon, your pre-arranged cremation service will activate upon your demise. A deposit is required now, with the balance due within one month. On behalf of our facility, we wish you a vibrant life and a peaceful passing.”

The crematorium robot delivered its programmed pleasantries with mechanical courtesy. Sharon was past caring.

From her worn canvas bag, she pulled a fistful of coins, counted them twice, and paid the deposit.

Three months ago, during a routine physical at the Institute, Sharon was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer.

It was terminal. The doctors gave her a month, at most.

Before she died, there was one thing she had to do: return to the Jiang family and reclaim the jade pendant her birth mother had left her.

She had once given that pendant to Evan, a token of their love.

The Jiang estate clung to the hillside. After two bus transfers and a half-hour walk, Sharon reached the imposing gates at dusk.

Taking a deep breath, she knocked on the door that had once been so familiar.

It swung open. Heather, Evan’s mother, let out a delighted shriek.

“Sharon! Today’s your graduation! I sent Evan to fetch you. How did you get back alone?”

Sharon turned mechanically. There was Evan, unchanged after four years—that same arrogant, untamed look. The only difference was the woman beside him.

Her own half-sister, Leah.

“Auntie Jiang, this is all my fault,” Leah said, stepping forward with a smile to take Sharon’s hand. “Evan and I were going to collect my sister together, but then… my period started. The cramps were awful, so he stayed home with me. You don’t mind, do you, sis?”

“No.” Sharon’s voice was a numb, almost inaudible murmur. “I don’t mind.”

She turned to go upstairs, to gather her old things and demand her mother’s pendant, when Evan’s mocking voice cut through the air.

“Sharon. They say an Institute graduate is the perfect wife—presentable in the parlor, proficient in the kitchen. Since everyone’s here, prove it. Make us a feast. Eight courses, two soups, and a dessert should suffice.”

Sharon’s body locked. A long silence hung before her voice trembled into the space. “I don’t want to.”

“Just give me my mother’s pendant. I’ll leave as soon as I have it.”

The memories surged forward, vicious and unbidden.

Culinary arts were mandatory at the Institute. Vegetables cut unevenly meant being whipped until you bled. A wok-toss a second too slow, and needles pierced your fingers.

Over four years, Sharon’s fury and resistance had hardened into numbness, then cold despair. Those nightmare years were a net drawn tight around her, inescapable and suffocating.

“Oh? You don’t want to?” A cold smile touched Evan’s lips. He raised his hand, the jade pendant swinging from its red cord. “Do you want this or not? If not, I’ll smash it.”

It was the only thing her mother had left.

Seeing his arm poised to dash the pendant to the ground, Sharon’s heart leapt into her throat.