But mercy, it seemed, was wasted.
He returned. And this time, he didn’t come to beg.
He came with a blade, dipped in poison, and eyes filled with madness. He tried to kill her while she was walking through her courtyard one night. Gu Jin didn’t hesitate.
No hesitation. No emotion.
But she remembered his eyes even now—wide, disbelieving. Not because he was dying.
But because he hadn’t expected her to kill him. He had mistaken her one act of mercy as a weakness.
And it reached the hospital too.
Three days later, the boy—the assassin’s son—dragged himself all the way to Gu Jin’s mansion gate. He looked thin, fragile, and angry. He had removed his IV and oxygen mask just to come.
The guards tried to stop him, but he screamed so loudly that it echoed across the walls.
"Gu Jin! Come out! You demon!"
Gu Jin had been reading in her study when she heard it. At first, she didn’t move. But the voice kept shouting.
"Gu Jin! You heartless monster! You killed my father! You knew he only wanted to save me!"
She stepped out onto the balcony, looking down at the boy hunched over at the gate, fists pounding the iron bars.
When she walked toward him, the guards parted silently.
The boy’s eyes locked with hers.
"You’ll never be happy!" he screamed. "You’ll be an orphan in every life! You’ll never have parents again! You’ll be cursed forever! Everyone you love will die!"
Gu Jin didn’t respond.
She only looked at him with that cold, emotionless gaze of hers. Ten years old, wearing white, her hair tied back neatly, she looked more like a statue than a child.
Then, she turned and walked away.
Later, Gu Jin quietly arranged to have his hospital bills paid in full. She hired the best doctors, sent special medicine under another name, and checked his condition every day through her subordinates.
The boy died three weeks later.
Before he passed, he left behind a letter full of anger, grief, and pain. In it, he wrote:
"May the gods serve justice. May they make sure you never feel love again. May everyone who loves you die.
Let you rot in your wealth and coldness. Let you cry one day, when no one is left to wipe your tears."
Gu Jin read the letter once.
Then the curse began.
One by one, her trusted subordinates began to die—some in missions, others in strange accidents. A few simply vanished.
Instead, she built a room in her mansion. A quiet, dim space with white walls. On each wall, she carved the names of those who had loved her.
She would sit in that room sometimes for hours, staring at the names. Her eyes would go blank. Her body still. Only her fingers moved, tracing letters she knew too well.
At that time, she had no one left but her grandfather.
He loved her. That much she knew. But she never let him near. She refused to live in the same house, building her own separate mansion far from his estate. He had tried many times to visit, but she always made sure he was stopped politely—too politely.
Not because she hated him.
But because she was terrified.
Terrified that if he got too close, the curse would reach him too.
And she couldn’t bear to carve one more name into that room.
As Gu Jin grew older, she changed.
She learned to hide her emotions, learned to speak with grace, and earned admiration.
But inside, something was wrong. Something broken. Some days, she felt the world was bright, full of possibilities.
Other days, it felt like a prison with no doors.
There were nights when she sat under the stars, staring at the sky, thinking about disappearing. Thinking that if she vanished quietly, no one would even know. No one would cry.
But then she remembered her mother’s voice—soft, warm, pleading.
"Jin’er, no matter what happens, you must live. For me."
Even when the days felt meaningless. Even when her chest felt heavy, like something invisible was crushing her.
Her emotions began to dull.
She stopped reacting to pain. To joy. She could watch a man die and not flinch. She could hear laughter and feel nothing.
It was as if her body was alive, but her heart was slowly freezing over.
It made her forget how to feel.
"Gu Jin," a voice called gently, breaking through the fog of memory.
Her eyes fluttered open.
They were still in the car. Long Yifan was looking at her with worry.
He looked worried. Very worried.
"You’re burning up," he said. "Your forehead’s too warm, but your hands... they’re freezing."
"I’m fine," Gu Jin said softly, trying to sit up.
"You’re not," he said, frowning.
She looked into his eyes.
They were filled with concern. Real concern. And something else—something she didn’t want to name.
She forced a small smile. "It’s just a little exhaustion."
Long Yifan didn’t answer right away.
Instead, he wrapped a blanket around her and held her wrist a moment longer. "You should eat medicine."
"Hm." Gu Jin didn’t resist.
Gu Jin quietly chewed the bitter pill Long Yifan gave her. She didn’t complain, didn’t flinch.
She simply swallowed it with a few sips of warm water, then let herself sink deeper into the blanket he had wrapped around her.
"You should sleep," he said softly, his voice low and gentle, like someone speaking to a frightened child.
Gu Jin didn’t answer. Her eyes fluttered closed, and before she knew it, the world faded away.
Sometime later—hours, maybe—Gu Jin opened her eyes to darkness.
The ceiling above her was unfamiliar.
So was the soft cotton blanket pulled up to her chest. She frowned slightly and slowly tried to sit up.
Her head spun immediately, and a wave of weakness hit her like a tide. She swung her legs over the bed, trying to stand.
But the moment her feet touched the ground, her knees gave out.
She collapsed onto the floor with a quiet thud. Cold wood touched her palms. Her breath came out shallow and uneven. Something was wrong.
She reached up and touched her forehead.
A fever. High. Too high.
The door creaked open.
Light spilled in from the hallway, and a familiar figure stepped inside, holding a white tub filled with steaming water.
Long Yifan froze when he saw her on the ground.
He rushed over, quickly setting the tub to the side. In one swift motion, he was kneeling beside her, slipping an arm under her back and lifting her gently.
"Why did you get up? You’re still too weak."
Gu Jin didn’t resist. Her body leaned naturally into his hold, her head resting lightly against his shoulder.
"I needed to know where I am," she murmured, her voice raspy.
He helped her onto the bed again and covered her up, then sat on the edge, checking her forehead with the back of his hand.
"Where are we?" she asked, blinking at the dim ceiling.
"There was a huge storm on the way to Beijing," Long Yifan explained calmly. "The roads were blocked. We had to stop at a hotel nearby. I didn’t want to wake you, so I carried you in."
Gu Jin was quiet for a moment, then said, "Give me my phone. I want to video call my parents."
Long Yifan hesitated for a second, then nodded. "Alright."
He pulled her phone from his coat pocket and unlocked it. Gu Jin took it and dialed the familiar number.
The video call connected.
Two familiar faces appeared—Mr. and Mrs. Gu, both smiling, their eyes full of relief.
"Jin’er! How are you feeling now?" her mother asked quickly. "Are you still feverish? Is there anyone with you?"
Her father stepped closer to the camera. "Did you eat something? Don’t skip meals, even if you’re tired."
Gu Jin stared at them.
Something didn’t feel right.
They looked... normal. Her mother’s smile was the same warm one. Her father’s voice carried the usual mixture of sternness and concern. But her right eye twitched. Just a little.
Gu Jin raised a hand to touch the corner of her eye. "My right eye is twitching."
Mrs. Gu blinked. "Maybe it’s the fever—"
Gu Jin’s voice was soft but steady. "Are you really okay?"
Her mother smiled again, but it felt slightly delayed. "Of course we are. Don’t worry about us, sweetheart."
Gu Jin didn’t reply. She just stared for a moment longer.
Then she asked, "Did you make the secret dish I asked for?"
Mrs. Gu nodded immediately. "Yes, of course. I made it just yesterday. It’s in the fridge, waiting for you."
The smile on Gu Jin’s face vanished.
She stood up, slowly, even though her legs were weak and her vision blurred.
Long Yifan reached out quickly, grabbing her shoulder. "Gu Jin, don’t—"