Inside the high-walled yard, a flashy standalone business building stood there, all polished and grand.
This was the biggest ladies’ finishing school in Jiangcheng.
Totally out of place beside that fancy building was a dog shed made of corrugated iron. In the dead of winter, the freezing wind sliced past, making the metal sheets screech so sharply it set people’s teeth on edge.
Chloe Ashford was lying inside the dog shed in a thin layer of clothing. The skin exposed on her arms was mottled with bruises, blue and purple everywhere. The cold had nearly pierced through her tightly curled-up body. She had gone so long without food or water that her throat felt like it was spitting sparks, burning so badly it hurt every time she tried to breathe.
Then the iron door was suddenly kicked open.
"Chloe Ashford, your family’s here to pick you up!"
Chloe’s eyes were hollow, empty as dead glass.
Family? Did she even still have one...
A year ago, one of the old servants from the Ashford family had brought Stella Ashford into the house, saying Stella was the real Ashford daughter. The family of three, reunited after years apart, cried so hard they could barely hold themselves together.
And she had just stood there, stiff as a pole, like some random outsider who didn’t belong, not knowing what to do.
Just when she thought she was about to be thrown out of the Ashford house, Mrs. Ashford had taken her hand and said gently that she was still their daughter too.
Chloe had cried on the spot, completely moved. Back then, she had been stupidly naive, thinking all that had changed was that she had gained a younger sister.
But Stella Ashford framed her again and again, bit by bit painting her into this vicious, scheming, sharp-tongued monster. And the parents she had called Mom and Dad for twenty years grew more and more disappointed in her because of it.
Until Old Mrs. Mercer’s birthday banquet, when Chloe caught Stella stealing the Mercer family’s heirloom jade bracelet. Afraid Chloe would expose her, Stella struck first and flat-out accused Chloe of being the thief.
At the time, her parents said nothing.
They only stepped in front of Stella and protected her.
The Mercer family was furious. They sent Chloe into this so-called "ladies’ training program" to be reformed and atone for her sins.
From that moment on, she understood.
The Ashford family had only one daughter.
And her name was Stella Ashford.
A whole year had passed. And now they finally remembered she existed?
Now they wanted to take her back?
"What, are you deaf? Didn’t you hear me talking to you?"
The heavyset woman planted her foot on the back of Chloe Ashford’s hand, right over the fingers swollen with chilblains, and ground down hard.
The pain hit so fast it blanked out every thought in Chloe’s head. In one split second, it shot through her whole body, from her bones to her fingertips.
Chloe started trembling all over. The veins at her forehead stood out, and cold sweat kept rolling down her face.
The woman stared at her twisted expression like she was enjoying a show. A thrilled, vicious grin spread across her face. "Don’t blame me. Your parents and your fiancé specifically told us to take real good care of you. Like, extra care. Hahaha!"
Her face looked almost warped as she laughed, creepy and sharp.
"You stole the real heiress’s place for twenty years! If you don’t suffer a little, how’s that fair to the real young miss, who was left out there all those years?"
The woman finally lifted her foot, then kicked Chloe to the side without mercy. "When you get back, learn how to behave. And stop making the real young miss mad."
...
A black Rolls-Royce was parked by the roadside.
The door opened, and a pair of polished black leather shoes stepped onto the snow with a crisp crunch.
Ethan Mercer stood outside the gloomy gates, tall and straight in a black cashmere coat. His features were sharp, his outline clean and cold.
Snow drifted down onto his shoulders. The assistant quickly came around from the driver’s seat, holding an umbrella over him.
"Mr. Mercer, Miss Ashford’s been in there for a whole year. She must be completely reformed by now, cultured, gentle, all that. Once she sees you, she’ll probably run over and throw herself into your arms like before."
Ethan lowered his eyes. His unreadable gaze rested on the snow, and his voice gave away nothing. "Our engagement was arranged when we were children. As long as she’s truly corrected herself, the marriage agreement will still be honored."
He lifted his head and looked toward the prison gates.
Then he saw a frail girl walking toward him in thin clothes.
His brows drew together. He looked more carefully, and his pupils suddenly tightened.
Ethan stared at that weak figure in shock, as if even a light gust of wind could knock her over.
But that person was actually Chloe Ashford.
In that instant, it felt like an invisible hand had clenched around his heart.
Chloe only glanced up at Ethan once before quickly dropping her gaze again. She kept staring at the snow under her feet, walking toward him in small, timid steps.
She stopped two meters away from him, keeping her distance, and called out softly, "Mr. Mercer."
