Muttering a string of curses, the driver roughly dragged her from the car. The moment he saw the car he’d hit was a Bentley, the color drained from his face. “Damn it all to hell. I knew nothing good would come from chauffeuring scum fresh out of prison. I knew it…” The furious driver gave Xiang Wan a shove, sending her sprawling into a snowbank. A small crowd of onlookers stared, their curiosity tinged with contempt. A wave of shame and pain washed over her. Her face went pale, and she bowed her head. Then, a pair of gleaming leather shoes entered her line of sight. She froze. Her gaze traveled up a pair of impeccably tailored trousers until it landed on the one face that had haunted her dreams for years. The year Xiang Wan was born, Mrs. Xiang had her fortune told. The fortune-teller predicted a charmed life for her first twenty years, followed by a lifetime of exceptional hardship. All these years later, the words had become a chilling prophecy. He Hanchuan looked even sharper, more strikingly handsome than he had two years ago. But the look of disgust he aimed at her was utterly unchanged. She stared at him, numb, before the realization of her own wretched appearance crashed down on her. She lowered her head, struggling to push herself up from the ground. But as she moved, the tip of his black umbrella pressed down on her shoulder, pinning her in place. “Two years, and you’ve lost your tongue? Forgotten how to say hello?” A sharp pain shot through her leg. The pressure on her knee felt like a thousand needles, and despite the freezing weather, a sheen of sweat broke out across her forehead. Biting her lip, she managed a trembling voice. “Mr. He… It’s been a long time.” He Hanchuan loomed over her, his eyes raking over her form. He hadn't seen her clearly from inside the car; only now did he realize it was truly her. He’d completely forgotten today was her release date. He had to admit, the change in Xiang Wan was staggering. The long, meticulously cared-for hair was gone, replaced by the standard-issue, ear-length chop from the detention center, as dry and lifeless as straw. Her face was sallow, marked with the faint lines of old scars and the angry red of new ones. She bore no resemblance whatsoever to the vivacious little princess of the Xiang family. “You really have changed.” She flinched, looking up just in time to see him pull out a cigarette and light it. Thick white smoke curled around his devastatingly handsome face, giving him an almost demonic allure. Xiang Wan dropped her gaze. “Mr. He, if there’s nothing else, could you please let me go?” “Go?” He seized the word. He raised his umbrella, using the tip to force her chin up. A chill laced his voice. “Xiang Wan, you should know that two years is far too short a time to atone for what you did.” A shiver ran through her, not from the cold, but from pure fear. The inhuman torment of prison was still seared into her memory. The mere thought of it made her tremble. The moment she was incarcerated, the Xiang family had cast her aside. In two years, not a single person had come to visit. She knew that was He Hanchuan’s doing. To him, she was a fish on the chopping block, completely at his mercy. Her frozen fingers curled into a fist. She summoned every ounce of her courage and looked up at him. “What happened back then was my fault, but I’ve served my time. Mr. He, can’t you just pretend you never saw me today? Can’t you just spare me?” He raised an eyebrow, a cold smirk playing on his thin lips as if he’d just heard the world’s funniest joke. “Qingran’s legs will never heal. Xiang Wan, do you really think this little punishment of yours is enough?” She froze. It always came back to Jiang Qingran. But he only knew that Jiang Qingran’s legs had been crippled. He didn’t know that the golf club he’d swung that day had left her with a permanent injury in her own leg. If they were truly keeping score, her debt was long since paid. But she didn’t dare say it. Bargaining with a man like He Hanchuan was utterly pointless. “Then what more do you want, Mr. He?” The wind howled, whipping the snow into a frenzy. His voice was as unforgiving as the blizzard itself. “Xiang Wan, that was the law’s punishment. Not mine.”