Pain.

Excruciating, searing pain.

It felt as if an invisible hand were crushing her lungs, wringing them tight. Every cough sent jagged bolts of agony tearing through her entire nervous system.

Shen Qingxu lay curled in a cold corner of the bed, the cheap, rough sheets scratching against her skin. The air in the cramped rental apartment was thick with the sour stench of expired medicine and leftover instant noodles. Peeling walls bloomed with mold. This was the end. The final, pathetic stop of her twenty-five years of life.

The dim glow of her phone screen illuminated the family group chat. The last message was a voice note from 'Mom'. With a trembling finger, she tapped it. Wang Xiulian's sharp, frigid voice instantly filled the squalid space:

"Shen Qingxu! Fifty thousand! If you don't transfer the money to your brother by tomorrow, we'll disown you! After all we've done raising you, this is the thanks we get? You ungrateful wretch!"

Heh...

A bitter laugh tried to escape, but it triggered another violent coughing fit. A sudden, metallic sweetness flooded her throat, an unstoppable tide of coppery rust.

"Cough—ptui!"

A spray of crimson blood splattered across the filthy floor, a stark, horrifying contrast.

Her vision blurred. Consciousness, like a kite with a severed string, drifted into an endless darkness. Regret, resentment, and bone-deep hatred... these venomous vines twisted around her dying soul.

'Shen Qingxu... your life... has been a joke...'

'If I could do it all over...'

'I swear... I will drink their blood, feast on their flesh... make them pay... a hundredfold...'

Her final thought extinguished. The world fell into absolute silence.

"Qingxu! Qingxu! Wake up! The ceremony is about to start! How can you still be asleep here?"

A voice, so familiar it sent tremors through her very soul, sounded in her ear, laced with a false sense of urgency.

Shen Qingxu's eyes snapped open.

Harsh light made her squint. What greeted her was the dazzling refraction of light from a gorgeous crystal chandelier. The air floated with the elegant scent of high-end perfume. She was sitting on a plush vanity stool. In the huge floor-length mirror before her was reflected a face—young, beautiful, perfectly made-up.

A crown of diamonds sat atop her head. She was draped in an exquisitely tailored, undoubtedly priceless, wedding gown... This was her. Shen Qingxu, five years ago. In the bridal preparation room, just before her wedding to her nominal husband—Lu Yanxiu.

Had she... been reborn?

This wasn't a dream! Her senses were hyper-aware. Her heart hammered violently against her ribs, threatening to break free. The girl in the mirror had delicate features and flawless, dewy skin, but her eyes held a trace of fatigue from the previous night and... a hint of bewilderment and resignation about the future. It was this very resignation that had pushed her into the abyss of utter ruin.

"Qingxu, are you okay? Are you too tired?" Zhang Xue, her "best friend" from her previous life, stood behind her, a picture of flawless concern plastered on her face. But this time, Shen Qingxu didn't miss the flicker of jealousy in Zhang Xue's eyes as they swept over the custom, hand-stitched Italian wedding gown.

Memories of her past life crashed over her like a bursting dam. Her family's parasitic demands, Zhang Xue's betrayal, Lu Yanxiu's indifference, and the child she never got to meet—the one who slipped away unnoticed, unknown... The final, cold despair of coughing up blood until death was seared into her soul.

Hatred, like hellfire, instantly incinerated the confusion in her eyes, replacing it with a glacial coldness and steely resolve.

"Xue'er," she spoke, her voice husky from sleep, yet unnervingly calm. "I'm fine. Just a little thirsty. Could you get me a glass of water? I'd like a moment alone."

Zhang Xue paused, seemingly sensing something different about the Shen Qingxu before her. Those eyes, usually so gentle, even timid, were now as deep and inscrutable as a frozen pond.

"Oh, sure. Wait here, I'll get it right away." Suppressing her unease, Zhang Xue smiled and turned to leave, considerately closing the door behind her.

The moment the door clicked shut, Shen Qingxu shot to her feet, almost stumbling as she rushed into the private bathroom adjoining the preparation room.

She twisted the faucet, splashing her face repeatedly with icy cold water, trying to shock herself into fully grasping this unbelievable reality. Droplets streamed down her smooth cheeks, mingling with the tracks of tears shed earlier—evidence of her former self's fear and anxiety about the future.

She lifted her head, her gaze locking onto her own reflection in the mirror—the radiant, wedding-gowned version of herself.

"It's real... I really came back..." she whispered, her voice trembling, then growing rock-solid. "Back to five years ago... Before all the tragedies began..."

The images from her death throes flashed before her eyes. Her mother's vicious face, her brother's entitled demands, Zhang Xue's hypocritical smile, that pool of glaringly bright blood...

SMASH!

With all her strength, she drove her fist into the smooth surface of the mirror! The glass shattered instantly, a spiderweb of cracks spreading outwards, reflecting countless versions of her own eyes, now blazing with the fire of vengeance.

Shards sliced her knuckles. Beads of bright red blood welled up, the sharp sting a welcome sensation.

The pain made her even more alert, more present.

She stared at the fragmented, yet unyielding, reflections in the broken mirror. Her words, ground out from between clenched teeth, were a solemn vow:

"Shen Qingxu, remember this blood. Remember this pain."

"In this life, I will slaughter any god who stands in my way. I will slay any buddha who blocks my path!"

"Everyone who owes me a debt... not a single one will escape."

When Zhang Xue returned with the water, Shen Qingxu was already seated back at the vanity. The cuts on her hand were cleverly concealed with foundation, and the tempest in her eyes had been completely reined in, leaving behind only a nearly indifferent calm.

"Qingxu, here's your water." Zhang Xue handed her the glass, studying her expression carefully. "Are you… alright? I thought I heard a noise."

"It's nothing," Shen Qingxu took the glass, her fingertips icy, her tone detached. "I just knocked something over." She took a sip of water, her gaze sweeping over Zhang Xue's inquisitive face in the mirror. "Is everything ready outside?"

"All set. The guests are all here." Zhang Xue suppressed the strange feeling in her heart, piling a fresh smile onto her face, laced with a hint of barely perceptible pride. "Beichen… oh, I mean, Yanxiu… he looks so devastatingly handsome today. Qingxu, you're so lucky to be marrying him."

Shen Qingxu laughed coldly inside. Lucky? In her previous life, this so-called 'luck' had drained the very life from her. She set down the water glass and stood up, the hem of her wedding gown sweeping out a decisive arc.

"Let's go. We shouldn't keep my 'good fortune' waiting."

The corridor leading to the banquet hall was carpeted in plush velvet, its walls adorned with expensive artwork. On Shen Jian'guo's arm, Shen Qingxu walked step by step towards the massive, ornately carved double doors of the banquet hall.

Shen Jian'guo's face was a picture of barely suppressed glee and excitement. "Qingxu, once you're in the Lu family, be sensible. Help the family, and your brother more," he murmured低声嘱咐. "Your brother's future depends on you."

Those words again.

In her past life, this phrase had been an invisible shackle, binding her for a lifetime. Shen Qingxu did not give her usual soft assent. She looked straight ahead, the corners of her lips curving into a cold, sharp smile.

The doors opened.

Instantly, all the light and noise of the celebration washed over them. The Wedding March swelled, solemn and melodious. The guests, resplendent in their finery, turned their gazes—a mix of envy and curiosity—upon her. Flowers, crystal, silk… an extravagance of luxury, like a beautifully crafted, gilded cage.

At the end of the red carpet stood Lu Yanxiu. His impeccably tailored black tuxedo accentuated his tall, straight figure, exuding an air of noble, detached coldness. His handsome face was expressionless, his deep eyes calm and unruffled. The way he looked at her was no different from looking at an insignificant object.

And standing beside him, wearing an exquisite bridesmaid's gown, was Zhang Xue, tilting her head slightly, stealing glances at him with what she thought was a secret, lovestruck look.

What a familiar scene. In her past life, she had been blinded by this false splendor and the hypocritical 'affection' of those around her, walking step by step into the tomb that would bury her.

Each step felt like treading on the pool of blood she had coughed up in her previous life. Pain, regret, and fury churned in her chest, finally tempered into a will of steel.

The arm linked with her father's tightened almost imperceptibly, her nails nearly digging into the fabric of his suit sleeve. Shen Jian'guo winced in surprise and looked at her, but only saw her taut jawline and overly calm profile.

Finally, she reached Lu Yanxiu.

Shen Jian'guo took her hand and passed it towards Lu Yanxiu as if handing over a piece of merchandise.

The officiant, with a professional,祝福的微笑, asked in a resonant, heartfelt voice: "Shen Qingxu, do you take Lu Yanxiu to be your husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love, cherish, and to obey, till death do you part?"

The hall fell silent. All eyes were fixed on Shen Qingxu, waiting for the sacred "I do."

Zhang Xue's smile was practically overflowing.

Wang Xiulian and Shen Qiang, seated below the platform, rubbed their hands together in激动.

Lu Yanxiu looked at her, his expression still unreadable, merely extending his hand faintly.

Right at this moment, when everyone's anticipation had reached its peak—

Shen Qingxu did not place her hand in Lu Yanxiu's palm.

Instead, she took a step forward and directly took the microphone from the officiant's hand.

The move stunned everyone.

She lifted her eyes, her gaze calmly sweeping over her hypocritical family below, her gleeful best friend, and finally, landing on the deep, icy eyes of the man before her.

Her red lips parted. A clear, cold voice, amplified by the microphone, spread to every corner of the hall:

"I do not."

"—I do not."

Those four words were like a thunderclap exploding over a silent, frozen plain, instantly freezing the entire wedding venue solid.

Time seemed to stand still for a second.

Then, a massive wave of astonished exclamations erupted like a tsunami! The guest tables exploded into an uproar. Whispers, gasps, and shocked inhalations merged into a chaotic din. After a brief moment of shock, the journalists descended into a frenzy, training their lenses wildly on the central platform. The sound of shutters clicking was incessant, the camera flashes nearly drowning her.

"What did she say?"

"She doesn't? Oh my god!"

"What's going on? Is she calling it off now?"

Lu Yanxiu's outstretched hand hung stiffly in the air. For the first time, clear cracks appeared in his deep-set composure—shock, disbelief, and a flicker of anger at being publicly humiliated flashed rapidly in his eyes. He stared intently at Shen Qingxu, as if truly seeing her for the first time.

"Qingxu! What nonsense are you talking!" Zhang Xue was the first to react, her sharp voice laced with unconcealed panic. She rushed forward, trying to snatch the microphone. "You're just too nervous, right? Tell everyone you're joking!"

Shen Qingxu easily sidestepped her, her gaze like an icy blade sweeping over Zhang Xue, freezing her in place instantly.

"Shen Qingxu! Have you lost your mind!" Wang Xiulian shot to her feet below the platform, her face deathly pale, her voice twisted with sheer fury and fear. "Apologize now! Continue with the wedding! Or you'll regret it!"

Shen Qiang also stood up, pointing at the platform and yelling, "Sis! You've humiliated us! Listen to Mom!"

Facing the two livid faces below, their plans in ruins, Shen Qingxu actually smiled. It was a cold, stunning smile, carrying a destructive kind of beauty.

She raised the microphone again, her voice filled with sarcasm, clearly reaching every corner of the room: "Look. This is my family. This is my best friend. In your eyes, am I a puppet to be manipulated at will, or a commodity to be traded for profit?"

"Qingxu, stop talking..." Zhang Xue's voice held a sob now, born of genuine fear.

"Shut up." Shen Qingxu coldly cut her off, her gaze returning to the ashen faces of Wang Xiulian and Shen Qiang. "Weren't you the ones constantly saying this was for my own good? That marrying Lu Yanxiu was the greatest fortune?"

She no longer looked at them. Instead, she faced all the guests and, with deliberate calm, retrieved her phone from a hidden pocket sewn into the waist of her wedding gown. A slender finger tapped lightly on the screen—

"Mom, my brother-in-law's family is so rich, my sports car..."

"Don't worry, once you're married, you'll be the young madam of the Lu family. Their money is your money! Helping your brother is only right!"

"Qingxu, your brother's girlfriend's family has given an ultimatum. The bride price needs another 500,000. You have to find a way..."

"Just whisper in Lu Yanxiu's ear, get him to arrange a manager position for your brother at headquarters..."

The voices of Wang Xiulian, Shen Qiang, and Shen Jian'guo pressuring her, scheming for the Lu family's wealth, were laid bare for all to hear, crystal clear through the sound system!

As the recording finished, the hall plunged into an even more eerie, dead silence.

The looks the guests directed at the Shen family had shifted from initial surprise to unconcealed disdain and disgust. Wang Xiulian's legs gave way, and she collapsed back into her seat. Shen Qiang's face was ghostly white, as if he wished the ground would swallow him. Zhang Xue also instinctively took a few steps back, as if trying to distance herself from the scandal.

Shen Qingxu straightened her spine, like a queen being crowned atop the ruins. Her gaze swept across the room, finally settling on Lu Yanxiu's eyes, which now held a complex, unreadable emotion.

"Lu Yanxiu. You all heard it." Her voice wasn't loud, but it carried an iron-clad finality. "A marriage like this, a family like this… I, Shen Qingxu, want no part of it!"

With that, she raised her hands and deftly removed the diamond crown from her head—the symbol of the Lu family's acceptance. Without a shred of reluctance, she tossed it casually to the ground!

Clatter— The clear, sharp sound was like the shattering of two worlds.

She didn't look back at anyone. Turning decisively, she gathered the heavy train of her wedding gown and, under countless stares of shock, bewilderment, and intense scrutiny, walked step by step, firmly, towards the main doors from which she had entered.

Sunlight streamed in through the wide-open doors, gilding her solitary, proud figure in a dazzling, radiant outline.

The opulent uproar was completely shut off behind her.

Shen Qingxu walked swiftly through the empty hotel corridor. The sound of her high heels striking the marble floor echoed sharply in the silence, a lonely yet resolutely decisive rhythm.

She didn't head for the dedicated bridal suite—that place was undoubtedly in chaos by now, waiting to confront her with questions and storms. Instead, she went straight towards a staff access door at the hotel's side entrance, a path she had inadvertently learned about in her previous life.

Pushing open the heavy fire door, the noise and luxury were stripped away instantly. The slightly harsh afternoon sunlight and the city's usual cacophony washed over her. She stood in an inconspicuous alley, the priceless wedding gown on her body forming an absurd, stark contrast with the peeling walls and piled-up debris around her.

A ride-hailing car, precisely booked in advance using her memory the moment she had woken up reborn in the dressing room, was waiting at the alley's mouth.

The driver stared, clearly startled by her appearance, his eyes full of surprise and curiosity.

"Last four digits, 6688," Shen Qingxu pulled the door open and slid smoothly into the back seat, her voice calm as if she were wearing ordinary clothes. "Jinjiang Apartments."

The car merged smoothly into the traffic. Shen Qingxu leaned against the window, watching the cityscape flash past. The city from five years ago, many landmarks yet unbuilt, familiar shops still open, everything held a strange, new freshness.

As her taut nerves relaxed slightly, a wave of immense fatigue and the hollow feeling of having narrowly escaped disaster slowly washed over her. She closed her eyes. The icy despair of her death in her previous life and the earth-shattering rupture of the wedding ceremony moments ago flashed alternately in her mind.

Hatred still coursed through her veins, but an unprecedented sense of lightness also began to take root in her heart.

She had personally smashed that gilded cage.

Jinjiang Apartments was a small studio she had secretly rented before the wedding with her own savings. The location was remote, the facilities simple, but it was hidden and quiet enough. This was the final retreat she had prepared for herself. In her past life, she had never gotten to use it before she died. In this life, it would be the starting point of her path to revenge.

She took off the intricate, heavy wedding gown and dumped it in a corner like a piece of soiled trash. Only after changing into a simple cotton dress did she feel truly alive again.

Her phone had long been turned off and tossed aside. She didn't need to look to imagine the number of missed calls and furious, abusive messages—from her so-called "family," and perhaps, from the Lu family as well.

She needed none of their voices. Right now, she needed absolute quiet to clarify her thoughts and plan her next steps.

She sat on the room's only chair, gazing out the window at the gradually setting sun, her eyes terrifyingly calm.

The fact of her rebirth had been digested. The vow of revenge had been sworn. The break with the past had been made public. Next was the matter of survival, of gathering strength.

The first step was seed funding.

She opened an inconspicuous old suitcase and retrieved a velvet box from a hidden compartment. Inside were several gold pieces, part of the "betrothal gifts" the Lu family had given her. Exquisitely crafted, and not light in weight.

Looking at these glittering objects, she felt not a trace of nostalgia. These were not tokens of love, but the down payment on the tragedy of her past life.

Early the next morning, she went to the largest and most reputable pawnshop in the city.

The elderly master behind the counter took the gold, carefully examining its quality and weight.

"Miss, pawning all of these?" The old master looked up at her, his gaze lingering for a moment on her overly young and calm face.

"Dead pawn." Shen Qingxu uttered the two words, her voice devoid of inflection.

The master asked no more questions, expertly calculating before quoting a price. It was fair, not deliberately lowballed because of her youth.

Shen Qingxu nodded.

When she walked out of the pawnshop, her bag held a thick, heavy stack of cash. It was far less than the actual value of the gold, but it was completely, cleanly, and freely hers—her "first bucket of gold."

Holding this money, she felt a unprecedented sense of solidity. This was the first step in taking control of her own destiny after breaking her chains.

Night fell once more.

Shen Qingxu sat at the small table by the window, a brand new notebook spread open before her. The warm glow of the desk lamp fell upon the page.

She picked up a pen and, on the blank title page, firmly wrote four characters:

星辰传媒 (Xīngchén Chuánméi).

Stellar Media.

This was the embryo of her business empire, the weapon she would use to fight against all injustice in the future, and the stage for realizing her own worth. Armed with the memories of her past life, she knew clearly the explosive growth that the live-streaming and short video industries were about to experience in the coming years. And she would no longer be a bystander or a sacrifice in this era; she would become a trailblazer.

Immersed in planning her future, her eyes were focused and bright, the previous fatigue and vulnerability gone without a trace. She didn't notice, or had no time to concern herself with yet, the hidden dangers lurking in the darkness she couldn't see.

Across the street, at the corner opposite her apartment building, inside an unremarkable black sedan, a man in a suit with a stern face was speaking softly into a headset:

"Target has returned to residence. Location confirmed."

"Initial observation: independent behavior. No current signs of contact with Mr. Lu Yanxiu or other suspicious individuals."

"Request permission to proceed with deeper investigation into her background and the true motive behind calling off the wedding?"

From the other end of the headset came a low, authoritative voice, tinged with a cold flicker of interest:

"Continue observation. I want to know what gave a canary, once so docile, the courage to peck its master."

"Understood."

The man ended the communication, his sharp gaze returning to the lit window. He belonged to a secretive and powerful intelligence organization, employed by a mysterious client who was deeply interested in the day's wedding upheaval.

Shen Qingxu did not know that her earth-shattering act today, like a stone thrown into still water, had created ripples far wider than she could imagine. She was already firmly locked in the sights of eyes watching from the shadows.

Inside, by the window, Shen Qingxu put down her pen and walked softly to the window, looking down at the city's sea of twinkling lights.

Her hand moved unconsciously to rest on her still-flat abdomen. There, a small, growing life—one she had failed to protect, and had never even known existed in her last life—was quietly developing.

Her eyes softened for an instant, only to be replaced by a light even more resolute.

"Lele," she whispered to the air, and to her reborn soul, her voice filled with boundless strength and promise. "Mommy is back."

"In this life, Mommy will build the strongest fortress for you, and for myself. We will carve a bloody path straight to the throne!"

(End of Volume One)