The day I died, my husband personally cut open my belly and took our unborn child. “This is what you owe Sheng Ruxue,” he said. I drifted above them, watching him use my flesh and blood to make medicine for the true heiress. I watched them prepare for their wedding, watched my hibiscus hairpin get replaced with a peony one. No one remembered that eighteen years ago, the Chancellor’s household had forcibly taken me from my birth parents. Eighteen years later, they were the ones who pushed me into hell with their own hands. Then the poisoned medicine made Sheng Ruxue’s face begin to rot…
