Knives pointed at her face. “Peel it off completely. It’ll be a masterpiece.” Peel it off? Windy shuddered. Was he saying what she thought he was saying? How could they? How could they be so cruel? Knives and Wolf studied her carefully, as if trying to find the best angle to start from. “Be careful not to damage the skin on her face. Someone paid a lot for it,” Wolf said as he prepared the tools, inching closer to her. Windy howled, her throat making hoarse, broken sounds. No, don’t come near! Get away! She screamed soundlessly. Even having a voice was now a luxury. The more terrified she became, the more excited they grew. Wolf jabbed a small needle into her shoulder. Knives held up a scalpel. “Go light on the anesthesia. If it’s too strong, the skin won’t come out perfect.” “No need to remind me. I know. Start by taking out her eyes. Such beautiful eyes — they’ll fetch a good price. And the heart too. They want it right after we remove it.” “Yeah, hurry up.” The moment her heart was taken out, Windy felt an incredible sense of relief. As her soul floated free, she looked down at her own mangled body. She was finally free. Her pale body lay still on the operating table. Knives and Wolf moved quickly and skillfully. Knives placed her eyes into a special machine. Wolf split open her skull and poured some kind of liquid inside. Working together, they slowly— peeled a complete sheet of skin from her body. She died disfigured beyond recognition, but at least she would never suffer that hell again. Her soul floated higher and higher. She panicked. She couldn’t reincarnate yet. Not now. Her vengeance was unfinished. If she reincarnated, she would forget everything — how could she get revenge then? I want every last one of them to rot in hell. Heaven, please give me a chance to take revenge. Let me become a vengeful spirit and kill every one of them. Even if my soul is torn apart, even if I have to suffer the worst tortures of hell again — I still want revenge. I beg you, please let me finish this vengeance… … “No! Stay away! Get away from me!” Windy thrashed for something to grab, but caught only air. She jolted awake from the nightmare, sitting bolt upright. Cold sweat drenched her back. She instinctively touched her face. Her hands, her feet — they were whole. Her skin was smooth. Her eyes, her nose, her mouth, her ears — all intact. Her face… What was going on? Wasn’t she dead? Was this heaven? She looked around at the familiar surroundings. This was her room in the Sue family estate. The snakeskin bag in the corner was still there. Not Mambia. Windy, barefoot, rushed to the vanity. She stared into the mirror. Tears welled up uncontrollably. The girl in the mirror had a face of stunning beauty — long thick lashes, naturally dark arched brows, cheeks still carrying a touch of baby fat. She raised a hand to her face. The girl in the mirror did the same. Those slender fingers were so delicate and pretty. It was her. This was her sixteen-year-old self. She had been reborn. Given another life, she finally understood — no matter how much you gave, those who didn’t love you would never see it. In her past life, the family love she yearned for, the romantic love she chased— This life, she would never hope for them again. Windy was about to sort through her memories when a knock sounded at the door. “Ms. Windy, are you awake?” It was Linda’s voice. She remembered now. Last night, the driver had picked her up from the countryside. By the time she got to the Sue family home, it was already one in the morning. Everyone was asleep. She hadn’t seen a single family member. Linda had taken her to a guest room to rest. Perfect timing. She hadn’t had to endure a single bit of the Sue family’s contempt yet. Good. Windy dressed and opened the door. Linda smiled and stepped aside. “Ms. Windy, your mother would like to see you.” In her past life, the first time she went downstairs, she had been overwhelmed with nerves and excitement. She had brushed her teeth twice, washed her face twice, and worn her cleanest clothes, desperate to meet the mother she had missed all her life. But now, she felt only hatred. The woman who played the role of the loving mother — Quinn — had ridiculed her countless times, forced her to apologize to Elsa every time Elsa cried. Windy descended the stairs. The lavish living room was lined with world-famous paintings. Expensive carpets, antiques, and artwork were everywhere, making her, with her plain countryside clothes, seem like an intruder. Outside, tall fences entwined with gaudy rose thorns enclosed the courtyard. Two luxurious lounge chairs sat in the yard. Sunlight streamed down, casting a dappled light across the extravagance. She pulled open the intricately carved double doors. Inside, the main hall was even more opulent. Natural light poured in. Underneath the dark green curtains, a bright figure sat on the sofa, flipping through a book. “Madam, Ms. Windy is here,” Linda said politely. Quinn seemed not to hear, continuing to read. Linda hesitated, then called again, more respectfully, “Madam.” Still no response. Quinn was completely absorbed in her book. Linda looked a little awkward. She leaned closer to Windy and whispered, “Madam gets very focused when she reads. Maybe she didn’t hear.” Linda took a few steps closer to Quinn and raised her voice slightly, “Madam…” Quinn’s fingers lightly stroked the pages. Her brows twitched faintly. Slowly, she closed the book. She stood, placing it neatly back on the bookshelf behind her. Then she turned around and lazily glanced at Linda. Linda caught the signal and moved aside. “Madam, Ms. Windy is here,” she repeated softly. Only then did Quinn look at Windy. The moment she saw Windy’s coarse, homespun clothing, a flash of disgust flickered through her eyes. She lightly pressed a hand to her nose. “Linda, take her to get cleaned up and change her clothes. Looking like that — anyone would think she’s a beggar. The Sue family’s daughter shouldn’t dress like that.” Though she was clearly scolding, her voice dripped with sweetness. Every gesture was elegant and composed. A gentle smile touched her lips. Linda was stunned. She hadn’t expected the usually gracious Madam to openly criticize the young lady’s clothes. Even though Madam was smiling, the words were cutting. She worried Windy might feel embarrassed. Linda was about to reply when a cold voice cut in. “My clothes are clean. They’re new. What part of me looks dirty? If anything, you should get her eyes checked.” Her voice was steady, her expression calm, her pace unhurried. She met Quinn’s gaze directly. Quinn blinked in shock. She hadn’t expected this daughter she had just met to dare talk back to her. Linda’s jaw dropped slightly. She hadn’t expected Ms. Windy to be so bold — accusing Madam of having eye problems. Quinn quickly suppressed her anger. When her gaze flickered upstairs and caught sight of another figure, she swallowed it back, regaining her dignified, gracious façade. But deep in her eyes, there was a trace of grievance and sadness.