Chapter 25: First Night at Wuchen Estate

The Wuchen estate swallows me whole.

Bael parks in a circular drive in front of massive double doors. Before I can reach for my suitcase, a staff member appears and takes both bags from the trunk.

"This way, Young Master Li," the man says with professional courtesy.

Young Master Li.

Not Runze, not even Mr. Li.

Already being fitted into my new role.

I follow him inside while Bael walks ahead without looking back. Grandmother Wuchen enters beside me, heels clicking sharp against marble.

The entrance hall is enormous. Marble floors, a chandelier that probably costs more than my parents’ house, dual staircases curving up to the second floor. Everything is pristine and cold and beautiful in a way that feels completely lifeless.

Grandmother Wuchen gestures toward a formal sitting room off to the left.

"Come."

Not a request.

I follow her into the room, Bael doesn’t join us...he’s already disappeared down a hallway, footsteps fading into silence.

The sitting room is elegant. Antique furniture, silk curtains, fresh flowers in crystal vases. Grandmother Wuchen takes a seat in a high-backed chair that might as well be a throne.

She gestures to the sofa across from her.

I sit.

My ribs protest the movement but I keep my expression neutral.

"Dr. Xi has ordered forty-eight hours of rest," she begins without preamble. "You will have today and tomorrow to recover. The third morning, your training begins."

Training.

Like I’m a dog being taught tricks.

"Etiquette lessons daily," she continues, ticking off points with the precision of a general planning battle strategy. "How to conduct yourself at formal dinners, how to address business partners, proper posture and speech. You represent the Wuchen name now. I will not have you embarrassing us."

I nod because what else can I do?

"Prenatal care has been scheduled. Weekly appointments with Dr. Xi, daily vitamins which will be delivered to your room, dietary requirements which the kitchen will accommodate." Her eyes are sharp and assessing. "The child’s health is paramount."

The child.

Not *your* child, not even *the baby*.

Just *the child*.

The Wuchen heir growing inside the disappointing omega who happened to carry it.

"There will be public appearances," she continues. "After the wedding, you will attend certain functions as Bael’s spouse. Those appearances must be flawless. You will smile, you will be gracious, you will give no one reason to question this family’s standards."

She pauses, studying me with those cold, calculating eyes.

"The wedding is in two months. You’ll be presentable by then, or you’ll answer to me."

It’s not a threat, it’s just a statement of fact.

"Do you understand?"

"Yes, ma’am."

"Good." She stands in one fluid motion. "Mrs. Wen will show you to your quarters."

An older woman appears in the doorway as if summoned. Mid-sixties maybe, with kind eyes and graying hair pulled back in a neat bun, she wears simple, practical clothes... staff uniform.

"Mrs. Wen has been with this family for thirty years," Grandmother Wuchen says. "She manages the household staff. If you require anything, you may ask her."

Then Grandmother Wuchen sweeps from the room without another word.

I’m left standing there, exhausted and aching, in this cold beautiful house that’s supposed to be my home now.

"This way, Young Master Li." Mrs. Wen’s voice is gentle.

I follow her up one of the staircases, down a long hallway lined with paintings I don’t look at, past closed doors that could lead anywhere.

We’re in the east wing, she explains quietly. Bael’s quarters are in the west wing, separate.

Of course they are.

She stops at a door near the end of the hall and opens it.

The room is beautiful.

King-size bed with expensive linens in muted cream and gray. Matching furniture that looks antique and probably is. Floor-to-ceiling windows with heavy curtains. An ensuite bathroom visible through an open door.

It’s larger than my entire bedroom at home.

And it feels absolutely empty.

Like a hotel room. Pristine and impersonal, designed to be slept in by strangers who won’t leave a mark.

"The closet is there," Mrs. Wen says, gesturing. "Your things have already been unpacked."

I glance over, my two suitcases worth of clothes look pathetic hanging in the massive walk-in closet.

"Breakfast is at seven," she continues. "But given your condition, I can have meals brought to your room if you prefer."

"Thank you."

She pauses at the door, something softening in her expression.

"If you need anything," she says quietly, "anything at all, please let me know."

There’s kindness in her voice. Real kindness, not the professional courtesy of the staff member who carried my bags.

It makes my throat tight.

"I will. Thank you, Mrs. Wen."

She nods and closes the door softly behind her.

And then I’m alone.

Finally, completely alone.

The silence is overwhelming.

I stand in the center of this beautiful, empty room and try to remember how to breathe.

Everything that happened tonight crashes over me at once.

Mother’s fists, Father’s cold dismissal, Feifei’s door closing, the drive here in suffocating silence, Grandmother Wuchen’s rules and expectations.

The wedding in two months.

My hand presses against my stomach.

Five weeks pregnant with my sister’s ex-fiance’s baby.

About to marry him in a ceremony that was supposed to be hers.

My legs give out.

I don’t make it to the bed, I just sink down right there on the expensive carpet, back against the wall, and finally let myself break.

The crying starts quiet, just silent tears running down my face while I press both hands over my mouth to keep the sounds in.

But it builds.

My shoulders shake, my breath comes in gasps, the sobs tear out of me and I can’t stop them, can’t control them.

I cry for Feifei’s broken expression, for the sister I’ll never get back.

I cry for the life I had—shitty as it was—that’s gone now.

I cry because I’m trapped in this beautiful prison carrying a child I didn’t plan for, about to marry a man who decided my life in a single sentence.

I cry because I’m so tired and everything hurts and I don’t know how to survive this.

The sobs are violent, shaking my whole body, my ribs scream in protest but I can’t stop.

Eventually...minutes or hours, I can’t tell...the crying slows.

Exhaustion takes over.

I drag myself off the floor on shaking limbs and crawl into the bed.

The sheets are expensive, soft and cool and completely impersonal.

They don’t smell like anything, no detergent, no fabric softener, no trace of human presence.

Just expensive nothingness.

I pull the covers up and curl into myself, hand still pressed against my stomach.

*I survived transmigration,* I think, staring at the dark ceiling. *I survived dying. I can survive this too.*

The words feel hollow.

But I repeat them anyway.

*I can survive this.*

The tears have stopped but my chest still feels like it’s caving in.

This is it. This is my life now.

Wake up, get trained like a show dog, smile for the cameras, produce the heir, be the perfect Wuchen wife.

And Feifei...

I squeeze my eyes shut against the fresh wave of pain.

She’s gone. That relationship is destroyed, no amount of apologies or explanations will fix it.

*I broke something I can’t undo.*

The thought sits in my chest like lead.

But I can’t keep crying about it.

Crying won’t change anything, won’t bring Feifei back, won’t make this situation less impossible.

So I won’t.

This is the last time.

Tomorrow I wake up and figure out how to survive in this house, in this family, in this life I never asked for.

But tonight...

Tonight I let myself grieve for everything I lost.