: Substitute

I'd been with Julian Sterling, the City's Crown Prince, for five years. But his heart still belonged to his untouchable memory, and he left me all alone in the deep mountain forests.

I never imagined that after all this time, I'd still just be a stand-in.

What I expected even less was to fall into a deliberately set animal trap, struggling fruitlessly.

In the end, it was a rugged, muscular Forester who saved me.

In his simple wooden cabin, I faced Zane Rhodes, who had just stepped out of the shower. I stared at the water droplets clinging to his abs and the smooth, perfect lines of his Adonis belt, swallowing involuntarily.

"I'm hungry. For $500 a month, can I hire you to... keep me fed?"

Later, Julian Sterling frantically led a search and rescue team to find me. After three days and three nights, he stood before me, his eyes bloodshot, demanding I go with him.

But I just draped my arm around Zane Rhodes's broad shoulders and narrow waist, my eyes narrowed as I purred, "I have you to thank for abandoning me. It's the only reason I'm eating so well now."

1

I sat in the vast, empty mansion, a hollow feeling in my heart.

I'd been married to Julian Sterling for years, but he had never loved me. He never even touched me. He would just visit for dinner on a few set days each month.

He transferred money to my account on time every month, and my walk-in closet was lined with walls of every luxury good imaginable.

Sometimes, when he drank too much, he would call out another woman's name. I knew it was his untouchable memory.

After all these years, I was still just a stand-in.

Today was another one of those days he was scheduled to come to this cold, sterile villa for dinner.

I sank limply onto the sofa and picked up a mirror.

I looked at my reflection, slowly stroking my cheek as I studied my face from every angle.

The woman in the mirror had rosy lips and pearly teeth. Even without a trace of makeup, she was beautiful enough to earn praise. I was an undeniable beauty, so why couldn't I find a way into his heart?

I put the mirror down, murmuring to myself, "Just being by his side is enough, isn't it? Isn't this what you wanted?"

'Don't ask for too much. Just let things go on peacefully.'

The door opened. A man in a black suit walked in, still on the phone. His volume was a bit loud, and a soft, gentle voice could be heard from the other end.

The moment he saw me, his expression turned stern, revealing a hint of disgust.

Every time I saw him like this, I found it almost laughable. He was unwilling to be with me properly, yet he wouldn't make a clean break either. We'd been tangled up like this for so many years.

I slowly walked toward him, intending to take his briefcase.

He sidestepped me, his voice so cold it could freeze the entire room.

"Don't bother!"

He moved past me, as if disgusted by my touch.

He never once looked me straight in the eye, but I was already used to it.

He walked to the sofa, took off his watch, and sank onto it lazily, closing his eyes to rest.

I lowered my head, composed myself, and spoke slowly. "Dinner is ready. Come and eat."

"Why aren't you wearing the clothes I bought for you?"

He ignored my words and changed the subject. He didn't even open his eyes to look at me as he spoke, his tone utterly indifferent.

Throughout our marriage, he'd always arranged for exquisite clothes to be sent to me, but I never wore them.

"I don't like them, so I won't wear them!" My voice was cold, numb from countless disappointments.

"Hah. You don't like them? What right do you have to not like them? You'd better get a clear picture of your situation..."

As he said this, he stood up and slowly walked over to me.

He grabbed my throat, glaring at me as he spoke with vicious cruelty, "Having a slight resemblance to her is your good fortune. If you didn't have this face, do you really think you would have everything you do now?"

He abruptly released his grip. I stumbled back a few steps, gasping for air.

The corner of my mouth twitched. I pressed my lips together and stared out the window, trying my best to control my emotions and stop the tears from falling.

But it was no use. My eyes grew moist anyway.

"Julian Sterling! I'm not her, and I can never become her! Wake up!"

My eyes glistened with unshed tears. I looked at him, my gaze filled with a helpless and furious accusation.

I once thought I could slowly move him, that I could find a way into his heart.

But as time went on, I realized that no matter how hard I tried, he would never give me a second glance. In his eyes, I was nothing more than a stand-in.

2

The food on the table had gone cold, and neither of us had an appetite.

He picked up his bag to leave. "Don't think you can become her," he said. "You're not worthy! And don't even think about leaving me. It's impossible!"

I knew him. If he said something was impossible, then I truly had no chance of escaping his control.

But what was the point of living like this, without dignity, like a puppet? It felt like I wasn't even a person anymore.

I sat at the table, stared at the cold dishes, and picked up my chopsticks to eat alone.

When someone doesn't love you, no matter how hard you try, you can never warm their heart.

After my shower, I sat alone on the sofa, about to dry my hair and go to sleep.

A call came from Julian Sterling. In a commanding tone, he ordered me to get to his friend's bar right away.

With my hair still wet, I called a car and rushed over.

Arriving at the private room, I pushed open the door. Inside, multicolored lights flashed, and the music was so loud it was painful.

One by one, the people inside stopped what they were doing to stare at me. The weight of their gazes was deeply uncomfortable.

My eyes landed on Julian Sterling. Beside him sat a young, beautiful girl.

The girl was nestled against him, looking petite and adorable.

She was exquisitely dressed and made up; by comparison, I looked ridiculous.

"President Sterling, I can't believe Sister actually came!"

The girl said this from his embrace, her voice syrupy sweet, before covering her mouth to giggle.

"I told you she's boring. Not like you. You're the best at making me happy."

As he spoke, he leaned in and brushed his lips against the girl's.

The girl feigned coyness, tapping his chest with a little pout.

I watched their intimate display, my heart filled with disgust.

I clenched my fists and said coldly from the doorway, "If there's nothing else, I'm leaving."

I was about to leave when he called out, "Stop! Come pour a drink for my baby here."

I drew a sharp breath, slowly turned, and met his eyes, unmoving.

His eyes were full of mockery; as he looked at me, there wasn't a shred of pity in his gaze.

"If you won't pour the drink, then drink this bottle!"

I knew if I didn't drink it, I had no hope of leaving here today.

I walked over, picked up the bottle, and began to chug it down.

"Cough... cough! Can I go now?"

He pushed the girl away, muttering, "How boring."

He straightened his clothes, tossed a stack of bills onto the table, and said to the girl, "Don't come looking for me again."

Then he left, leaving behind the girl with a look of disbelief on her face, and me in my wretched state.

3

After that day, I rested at home for a long time.

Then one day, the weather was beautiful, so I decided to go hiking.

I didn't tell him. I just wanted to quietly enjoy the experience by myself.

I walked along the mountain path by myself, a hiking pack on my back, breathing in the fresh air.

The forest was silent. The only sounds I could hear were my own soft panting, the rustling of the wind, and the occasional, long cry of a bird.

I was getting a little tired, so I leaned against a tree and sat down cross-legged. It was a relaxed posture, not a particularly graceful one.

I was so tired of playing the part of a frail, timid woman all day, every day—someone who shrinks away from everything.

'I just want to be myself, to sit however I want without being constrained.'

As I took out my water bottle to get a drink, the bushes rustled. I vaguely saw a fluffy, adorable tail give a gentle wag.

I put down my water bottle and crept in that direction, afraid I'd scare the little creature off.

The distance between us shrank. I didn't know if the little thing would suddenly bolt, and every nerve in my body was taut. Then, I lunged for it.

The moment I touched the patch of grass, it gave way, plunging me into a trap twelve feet deep.

I felt myself falling, my arm scraping hard against the trap's rough wall.

Before I could even register the pain, my head slammed against the side of the pit. My consciousness vanished, and I blacked out.

When I opened my eyes again, the first thing I saw was a completely unfamiliar place.

I was in a small bamboo house. It wasn't spacious, but it was very bright, with a fresh and elegant simplicity.

I was lying on a surprisingly large bed pushed against a wall. On that wall was a small, slightly ajar window. A gentle breeze made it flutter, creating a crisp, clear sound.

I tried to sit up slowly, using my hands to support myself.

The moment I put weight on my hands, a sharp pain shot through me. I cried out and fell back heavily, landing on my injured arm.

My hand ached, but my entire arm felt as if a thousand needles, dense as raindrops, were piercing me to the bone.

I began to sob. My weak cries echoed in every corner of the little bamboo house. Outside, the gentle sound of rain began to mingle with my weeping, creating a strange and different mood in the quiet mountain setting.