Chapter 2: Warning
1532 Words
“Who was the original fiancé?” Chen Lillian asked. Given the Yuan family’s far greater influence and wealth compared to the Chen family, she was certain the initial betrothal could not have been meant for her—a mere illegitimate daughter.
“Doesn’t matter who it was. It’s you now,” Chen Evelyn said. “The Yuan family has already agreed to swap the bride.”
“Oh—?” Chen Lillian dragged out the syllable and eyed Chen Evelyn up and down. “So, you were supposed to marry him.”
“So what if I was?” Chen Evelyn tilted her chin arrogantly. “I’m a rare Guide. Yuan Vincent lost both legs. He’s not even worthy to carry my shoes. How could I possibly marry him?”
Hearing this, Chen Lillian felt a twinge of pity for that boy named Yuan Vincent. She wondered how he’d feel if he heard his former fiancée speak of him like that.
“Besides,” Chen Evelyn continued, “you’re also disabled. Marrying Yuan Vincent means you’ll have a life of comfort and ease. You should be thanking me—I’m the one who handed this marriage to you!” She cast Chen Lillian a sidelong glance, as if warning her not to be ungrateful.
“Well then, I really ought to thank you.” Chen Lillian put heavy emphasis on “thank you.”
To her surprise, Chen Evelyn nodded. “You’re welcome. Don’t feel aggrieved. The Yuan family said they’d grant Vincent a mining planet. After the wedding, you two can live there—become the owners of an entire world.”
Chen Lillian’s eyes went wide. A mining planet? Becoming the owner of a whole planet?
Could it really be what she was imagining?
An entire mining planet! That would be enough to restore her metal-based ability to its peak.
Chen Evelyn let out a cold laugh, clearly looking down on Chen Lillian’s wide-eyed excitement.
“Fine, I accept,” Chen Lillian declared. For the sake of a mining planet, she’d marry without hesitation—even if it were a wild beast, let alone a man with no legs.
A whole planet!
The following day, after returning to the Chen family, Chen Lillian was contacted by a friend of the body’s original owner—a girl named Ai Serena—who said she owed her money and wanted to treat her to a meal.
Chen Lillian took a free hovercar and arrived at the appointed restaurant right on time.
Ai Serena was a plump girl with baby cheeks and adorable dimples. Seeing Chen Lillian, her eyes reddened. She ran over and carefully hugged her, voice trembling. “Does it still hurt?”
Unaccustomed to such intimacy, Chen Lillian stiffened. She patted Ai Serena’s shoulder, gently pushed her away, and reassured her, “It’s fine. It doesn’t hurt anymore.”
Ai Serena wiped her tears, apologizing, “I’m so sorry. I was in closed training for half a month. I only found out about your accident yesterday.”
“It’s alright,” Chen Lillian said, shaking her head. She wasn’t the original girl, so she didn’t share that bond of friendship. If Ai Serena knew her real friend was gone, she would likely be devastated.
Chen Lillian sighed inwardly and changed the subject. “Have you booked a table?”
“I have,” Ai Serena replied. She glanced at Chen Lillian hesitantly, lowering her voice. “Besides me, a few classmates are here too. They said they’re friends of Yuan Vincent and want to meet you. Are you really engaged to him?”
“Yes,” Chen Lillian answered frankly. “Our families arranged it.”
Ai Serena looked anxious. “But… he lost both legs. He’s basically—”
“I’m missing an arm as well,” Chen Lillian cut her off, striding toward the private room.
Ai Serena led the way, explaining as they walked, “I didn’t book the private room; his classmates insisted. They didn’t want to sit in the main hall.”
Chen Lillian didn’t mind, but she was curious what these “friends” wanted with her.
When they opened the door, she saw a group of attractive young men and women lounging on the sofas. Their gazes clashed, and Chen Lillian sensed an unfriendly tension in the air.
“So Chen Evelyn got swapped for you, a cripple?” A thick-browed man, who appeared honest at first glance, spoke with biting sarcasm.
Chen Lillian responded calmly, “Yes. The old patriarch said I match Yuan Vincent perfectly, since we’re both disabled.”
“Yuan Vincent is an SS-rank Sentinel—a genius of the First Military Academy. You’re just a normal person. How can you be worthy of him?” said a stunningly beautiful woman.
Chen Lillian had noticed that, ever since she woke up, almost everyone in this world was strikingly good-looking.
“He’s lost his legs, and his Sentinel rank has surely plummeted by now. Maybe it’s not even E-rank anymore, or else Chen Evelyn wouldn’t have thrown him aside and handed him to me. Apart from me, I doubt anyone else in the Chen family would marry a cripple like him.” Chen Lillian laid out the harsh truth. Since they showed her no courtesy, she had no need to be polite either.
“How dare you speak of Vincent like that!” The thick-browed man—Li Damian—snapped, veins bulging in anger. An invisible force of mental energy surged at Chen Lillian.
She felt her body sway, her head hammered by an intense, unseen blow. It hurt so much she nearly collapsed.
“Li Damian, stop it! You can’t use mental power on Lillian—she’s just an ordinary person!” Ai Serena supported Chen Lillian, glaring at Li Damian furiously.
“I’ll stop if she apologizes,” Li Damian said coldly.
Clenching her teeth, Chen Lillian tasted blood in her mouth. She stared steadily at Li Damian. Fine, she’d remember this grudge.
Her body, still weak from serious injuries, couldn’t endure his attack much longer. Her face paled, sweat beading on her forehead. Had Ai Serena not been holding her up, she would’ve already fallen.
“Song Celeste, do something!” Ai Serena pleaded, her voice trembling with tears. “Chen Lillian can’t take this!”
Song Celeste, her features flawless and her lips painted a striking red, showed no emotion. “She really is worthless. Can’t even handle that much mental force. Li Damian, that’s enough—don’t kill her.”
Chen Lillian leaned against the sofa, eyes fixed on Li Damian and Song Celeste. “Did Yuan Vincent send you here?”
“Of course not,” Li Damian denied. “We’re here to warn you. Vincent only agreed to this marriage as a temporary fix. Don’t get your hopes up, and don’t covet what doesn’t belong to you. You’re not worthy.”
Song Celeste added, “All you need to do is play your part as a tool. Once the time comes, your marriage will end, and Vincent will pay you off.”
Chen Lillian shrugged. “You done? If so, feel free to leave.”
Li Damian snorted. “We’re not leaving. You should get lost.”
Rolling her eyes, Chen Lillian maintained a casual demeanor. “What if I call off the engagement? Imagine how tomorrow’s headlines at the Academy would read: ‘Fallen Genius, Now Crippled—Rejected by One-Armed Fiancée…’”
“Shut your mouth!” Li Damian shot to his feet, glaring daggers at her. But in the end, he could only grind his teeth and mutter, “We’re leaving!”
“I’m sorry, Lillian,” Ai Serena said after they left, guilt written all over her face. “I had no idea they’d act like this. They told me they were Vincent’s friends, so I assumed they were coming to support you.”
“It’s alright,” Chen Lillian reassured her.
Though she had suffered, it wasn’t without gain. From Li Damian and Song Celeste’s words, she gleaned that Yuan Vincent had no real expectations for this marriage and would keep his distance. That was precisely what she wanted: she was in it for the mining planet, not the man.
As for today’s humiliation, she’d return it a hundredfold one day.
“They were too much! You only lost an arm—at least you can still take care of yourself. But Vincent lost both legs. He’ll need care for the rest of his life. Who is he to look down on you?” Ai Serena fumed, cheeks puffed in anger.
Chen Lillian simply shrugged. “Probably because he’s a Sentinel?”
Sentinels made up less than one in a thousand people across the Alliance. Even a crippled Sentinel was still a rare resource.
She couldn’t help wondering which was stronger: a Sentinel or someone with her metal-based ability?
The thought excited her. She focused inwardly on the tiny “grain-of-rice-sized” crystal core in her mind. She was itching to visit that mining planet and strengthen her powers.
Without strength, one always felt insecure.
- Writer
