He is born never to be lost in the mortal world

When I woke again, I was lying in a hospital bed, an IV drip attached to my hand.

“Sharon,” came a cold voice. “What the hell have you been doing these past four years? How could you let yourself fall apart like this?”

Evan stood watching me, his expression hard.

“The doctor says you’re severely malnourished. If you don’t start eating properly, you’ll die.” He paused, voice dropping. “It was wrong of me to call you a pig back then—but that doesn’t mean you should stop eating altogether. Sharon… you’ve truly disappointed me.”

With that, he turned and left without another word.

Watching his retreating figure, my numb face finally showed a flicker of expression.

I murmured the words I’d repeated countless times over the past four years.

“Evan… I really don’t dare to like you anymore.”

“Evan… I really don’t dare to like you anymore.”

The year I turned ten, my parents died in a car accident.

Leah and I were both taken in by the Jiang family. True to their promise, they made me Evan’s fiancée.

Evan never liked me. He mocked me for eating street food, sneered at me for reading romance novels.

Even though we went to school together every day, studied together, attended the same tutoring classes—he never once gave me a kind look.

Because of my connection to Evan, the school’s reigning queen bee cornered me in the bathroom, threatening to shove my head in the toilet and flush it.

Then Evan suddenly appeared.

“Leave her alone,” he said. “She’s mine.”

From that day on, Evan started treating me better and better.

Even though he was terrified of heights, he went to the amusement park with me, riding the roller coaster ten times in a row.

Knowing I loved animals, he patiently volunteered with me at the stray dog shelter.

We made plans: attend the same university, get married right after graduation, have one boy and one girl, and be together forever.

All of it turned to ashes after the kidnapping.

Evan was once my light.

Now… that light has gone out.

The day I was about to be discharged, my sister Leah came to the hospital.

She pushed the door open, carrying a pink insulated lunchbox, her voice sweet and lively.

“Sharon, I came to see you! I brought you something delicious. Eat up, then we can go home.”

Dressed in a pretty floral dress, she looked radiant, a smile in her eyes. Others in the ward couldn’t help but praise her.

“Miss Sharon, is this your sister? She’s even prettier than you.”

“You have the same mother, but you don’t look much alike,” someone joked curiously.

“We don’t have the same mother.”

“What did you say?”

“We don’t have the same mother.” I bit my lip, my hands at my sides clenching into fists.

It wasn’t until after my father died that I learned the truth: the man I’d always believed was a devoted family man had a mistress on the side, who bore him a child—Leah.

“Sharon, I made this nourishing soup just for you. Simmered it for a full three hours.” Leah acted as if she hadn’t heard, taking out a spoon and lifting it considerately, ready to feed me. “Evan had something to do today. I drove, so we can head back together later. Try it. I promise you’ll love it.”

After a moment’s hesitation, I took the spoon from Leah’s hand and brought it to my mouth.

“Is it good?”

“It’s okay.”

“See, Sharon? I told you you’d love it!” Leah’s mouth curled into a smirk, her eyes cold and sharp. “Guess what kind of meat is in this soup?”

“It’s Lucky!”

“Your dog, Sharon.”