The thin door of the Jinjiang Apartment was about to give way under the violent pounding.
“Shen Qingxu! You ungrateful wretch! Get out here! I know you’re inside!”
Wang Xiulian’s shrill, piercing voice tore through the wooden door, echoing in the small space. Each thunderous bang of her fist sounded like war drums pounding on one’s heart.
“Qingxu! Open the door! Explain yourself! Do you even know you’ve sent Mom and Dad to the hospital from anger?”
Her brother, Shen Qiang, shouted next, his rough voice filled with indignation and threats. “If you don’t open up right now, I’ll smash this damn door down!”
Outside the door stood her hysterical mother and furious brother.
Inside, Shen Qingxu sat calmly on the only chair in the room, carefully arranging the livestreaming equipment she had just bought—a basic phone tripod, a ring light with fill illumination, and several rolls of solid-colored backdrops.
The pounding and cursing were nothing more than background noise. She didn’t even lift her eyelids, fully absorbed in adjusting the angle of the ring light, as if what was happening outside had nothing to do with her.
Cold hatred churned in her chest, but even that was drowned by a chilling calm.
She had expected them to come.
By breaking off her engagement, she had shattered the Shen family’s dream of climbing up the Lu family’s social ladder and cut off the parasitic lifeline they had been feeding on. How could they possibly let her go?
Memories from her previous life resurfaced—sharp as blades, slicing away the last remnants of her illusion about family affection.
She picked up her phone, tapped the screen, and quietly turned on the voice recorder. Then she placed the phone face-down on the corner of the table—an inconspicuous spot that could still clearly capture every sound from the doorway.
Only after setting everything up did she stand and walk toward the door. She didn’t open it immediately but peered through the peephole.
Wang Xiulian’s hair was a tangled mess, her face twisted with rage. Shen Qiang’s beefy face quivered as he clenched his fists until his knuckles cracked—ready to strike.
Taking a deep breath, Shen Qingxu suddenly pulled the door open.
The two outside froze in surprise. Wang Xiulian’s hand was still raised mid-knock, while Shen Qiang halted awkwardly mid-stride.
“What’s all the noise about?” Shen Qingxu’s voice wasn’t loud, yet it carried a glacial sharpness that instantly silenced them. Leaning against the doorframe, she looked at them coolly. “This isn’t the Shen family’s house. If you want to throw a tantrum, go home and do it there.”
Wang Xiulian trembled with fury, jabbing a finger at her. “Shen Qingxu! You unfilial brat! We raised you for nothing! Did your wedding embarrass you that much? How dare you break it off? How do you expect us to face anyone now? What will you tell the Lu family?”
“Explain myself?” Shen Qingxu laughed, her lips curling in scorn. “And who exactly do I owe an explanation to? Since when did my marriage become your bargaining chip for profit? Should I also provide after-sales service to your business partners?”
“You’re talking nonsense!” Shen Qiang roared, stepping forward to shove her. “You’re coming back with us to apologize to the Lu family! Otherwise, I’ll teach you a lesson on behalf of Mom and Dad!”
But Shen Qingxu’s eyes turned razor-sharp. Instead of retreating, she stepped closer, her voice suddenly cold and commanding:
“Shen Qiang! Go ahead—touch me and see what happens! There are surveillance cameras in this hallway. You so much as lay a finger on me, and I’ll call the police for assault. Enjoy a few nights in jail—see if your fiancée still wants that bride price then!”
Startled by the deadly calm in her eyes, Shen Qiang froze. His raised hand hovered mid-air, unable to move. The sister before him felt like a stranger—one who made his heart jolt with fear.
Seeing this, Wang Xiulian dropped onto the floor, slapping her thighs and wailing, “Heavens! My own daughter treats her mother like this! I might as well die!”
Shen Qingxu watched her coldly, as though witnessing a pathetic performance.
“Mom,” she interrupted flatly, “save that act for court—you’ll need it there.”
Wang Xiulian stopped crying instantly, staring up at her in disbelief.
Shen Qingxu no longer looked at them. Her gaze drifted past them—toward the unseen horizon of her future. Her voice was calm yet resolute, carrying the weight of a declaration:
“Listen carefully. From this day forward, I, Shen Qingxu, sever all ties with the Shen family. From now on, we have nothing to do with each other.”
Then she raised her hand and pointed toward the elevator, her words crisp and forceful as thunder:
“Now—get out.”
The sheer authority in her tone stunned them both into silence. Neighbors peeked through half-open doors, whispering among themselves, their stares burning with curiosity and judgment.
Not giving them another chance to argue, Shen Qingxu stepped back and slammed the door shut with a deafening bang.
The heavy door drew a final line between two worlds.
Outside—furious curses that soon faded down the hallway.
Inside—Shen Qingxu leaned against the cold door, slowly sliding to the floor. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and when she opened them again, only steely determination remained.
She picked up her phone and stopped the recording.
This recording—along with the one from the wedding—would be her first batch of ammunition against the Shen family’s future schemes.
The storm had begun.
She had broken the chains of her past.
From now on, she would walk her own path—until she built a kingdom that belonged to her alone.
(End of Volume Two, Chapter One)
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