The days blurred together in a haze of despair. Lin Yue found herself trapped in a hell of her own making, the walls of the mansion seemingly closing in with each passing hour. Every slap, every harsh word, replayed in her mind like a cruel echo. Her tears became her only constant companions, flowing quietly through the long nights, soaking her pillow and staining her cheeks.
She tried to find solace in her son, Little Wei. Her little boy, innocent and pure, clung to her even as his own world grew confusing. He would crawl into her lap, calling her "Mom," but the words were spoken with the innocence of a child caught between conflicting worlds. It tore her apart to see him idolize the woman who despised her.
Her husband's absence grew longer and more frequent. When he was home, it was like a ghost—distant, indifferent, a stranger she had married. Sometimes, she wondered if he even remembered her name.
One silent evening, Madame Chen entered her room, her expression unreadable, holding a thin, malicious smile. Without warning, she threw a leather belt onto the bed.
"Yue," she said coldly, "since you're so useless at behaving like a proper wife, maybe this will teach you some discipline."
Lin Yue shook her head desperately, tears flooding her eyes. Her voice trembled, "Please, I—I don't want any more trouble… I just want to live peacefully…"
But Madame Chen only sneered and snapped, "Peace? This family will never allow that from someone like you."
In a fit of rage, she swung the belt wildly, hitting Lin Yue across her trembling body. The pain was unbearable—both physically and emotionally. Her mind went blank as she curled up into a fetal position, tears flooding her face.
That night, as the mansion descended into a suffocating silence, Lin Yue lay battered and broken. Her breathing was ragged; her body aching from the relentless assault. She whispered to herself through her tears, "I can't take this anymore... I just want it to end."
The darkness enveloped her completely.
Chapter 3: The Final Night
Days turned into weeks. Her body grew frail; her spirit, increasingly shattered. Her sleep was filled with nightmares—visions of her husband's betrayal, her son's distant calls, her mother-in-law's cruel face. Every night, she begged for release, her silent prayers lost in the abyss.
Her health deteriorated swiftly. One cold evening, curled on the floor of her room, Lin Yue's trembling hands reached out to clutch her chest. Her vision blurred as her strength ebbed away. Her voice, barely more than a whisper, called out into the empty air, "Please… I just want peace…"
Then, her body went still.
The mansion remained silent, unaffected by the tragic end of its broken owner.