Chapter 7: The Return of Spring

If someone says you’re wrong, says you’re vicious, then they’re the one at fault, not you.

I hated Carter.

I didn’t hide this from Lillian. Like a scheming courtier whispering to the queen, I coaxed her:

“Lillian, dump him.”

She just smiled, her eyes melancholy as she sighed, “But Quinn, I’ve liked him for so many years. How can I give him up?”

So I said no more.

Until we discovered Carter seemed to have fallen for someone else.

It was Lillian’s birthday.

No matter how cold he was, they were still engaged.

After three years of partnership, the Avery and Ellison families’ interests were deeply intertwined.

Lillian called him, her tone gentle, as if their argument days ago had never happened.

“Carter, are you free tonight? Let’s have dinner together.”

He agreed.

That’s how high society works—no matter what’s left unsaid, both sides keep up appearances, never showing emotion.

The private restaurant had a great atmosphere. He presented a gift with perfect manners.

Though Lillian’s smile didn’t change, I knew she was truly happy.

Even if it was just an expensive diamond watch, she thanked him, “Thank you, I really like it.”

After eating, they just chatted.

Nothing happened, until I noticed Carter was distracted.

In their world, distraction meant danger.

He was usually precise, never making mistakes. But that night, he was absent-minded. Lillian had to repeat a question before he responded, apologizing politely, “Sorry, I didn’t hear. Could you repeat that?”

Lillian kept her composure, gently repeating, “Next Sunday, my father’s golfing with the Citibank president. He invited you.”

He paused, then said, “Sorry, I have something next week.”

Lillian replied, picked up her coffee cup to cover her expression, and by the time she put it down, her smile was back.

After the meal, we sat in the car. She was silent for a long time, then told me, “Quinn, he has something on his mind.”

I replied, “Call the private detective. Have them follow Carter.”

The detective got back to us fast. We found out why Carter was so distracted.

Harper Lin, a senior in NYU’s photography department. Two months ago, Carter gave a lecture at the school, and after the talk, Harper took his photo for the school paper.

I looked through the photos with Lillian.

Carter, usually in a suit, wore a hoodie, looking young and handsome, walking with Harper under the trees, laughing over bubble tea.

Lillian’s hand caressed his face in the photo, finally tapping his slightly upturned lips.

She murmured, helpless as if returned to years ago, “Quinn, do you think he really likes her?”

I smirked. “Test him. You’ll see.”

I found Carter. He didn’t notice any difference between me and Lillian. I sat across from him, smiling innocently:

“Carter, last week, my friend saw you with a girl at the movies. Even if this is a business marriage, I hope we can be loyal to each other—or at least not embarrass me.”

He blinked, then said flatly, “It’s just a game.”

I smiled, said nothing. A few days later, he and a starlet appeared in the news.

His face was blurry in the photo. Lillian and I both scoffed. I said, “Looks like it’s true love—he’s even using the classic business tactic of creating a diversion.”

Lillian said nothing, put down the newspaper, and picked up the detective’s photos.

Under the blooming wisteria at NYU, Carter leaned down and kissed Harper’s forehead.

Even through the photo, you could feel the pure, sacred love between them.

So beautiful.

He had never kissed Lillian.

Even after three years of engagement.

I watched Lillian, her face blank as she stared at the photo. I said, “Lillian, let it go. He’s not worth it.”

If it were me, I’d use this photo to negotiate with Carter, get his shares, then break off the engagement and kick him far away. But I don’t love him. I can be clear-headed and ruthless.

But Lillian loves him.

She said, “No one gets to betray me, Quinn. Not without paying for it.”

“It’s fine if he doesn’t love me, it’s fine, Quinn. I’ve figured it out. I don’t want his love, I just want him.”

“Even if he doesn’t love me, he has to be tied to me for life—unless one day I don’t want him anymore.”

He called her venomous. She smiled, the meaning hidden, and said, “Then I’ll show him just how venomous I can be.”

The next day, Lillian was herself again—gentle, poised, with flawless makeup, every move graceful, not a hint of losing control.

She called Carter, gently telling him there was a magazine interview.

Rich people sometimes have to appear as a loving couple to stabilize the stock price, shareholders, and board, and to show the two families are united.

That day, when Carter got the call, he was silent for a long time, then hesitated: “Lillian, I have something to tell you.”

What else could it be?

Probably to break off the engagement.

He’s not the same as three years ago. Now that he’s secure, he can pursue true love.

I watched the smile on Lillian’s lips.

The angrier and more out of control she was, the gentler her smile, light and floating, her eyes deep and unreadable—a look I barely recognized. She interrupted, “Let’s talk after the interview.”

Carter paused, then agreed.

The magazine crew set up their cameras. Lillian sat next to Carter, smiling just right. They looked perfect together—even their features matched.

Someone sighed, “How can there be such a perfect couple?”

Lillian leaned on Carter’s shoulder, telling their story—half true, half false—about their engagement, their happiness, the gifts he gave her. She talked so much that even she seemed to believe Carter loved her.

Maybe to save face for her, Carter kept up his gentlemanly manners, never refuting a word.

At the end of the interview, I spotted Harper Lin in the crowd—she looked pale, completely lost. When arranging the interview, Lillian had specifically asked, “You have an intern named Harper Lin, right? Make sure she’s present.”

Only then did she truly smile.

She asked me, “Quinn, do you think Carter will call me venomous again when he realizes?” I didn’t answer. She looked up at the sky, as if she didn’t care. “Let him say what he wants. It doesn’t matter anymore.”

In fact, Carter didn’t get angry.

He stood in front of her, voice steady.

“You arranged this interview on purpose, so you already know about Harper. Let’s be honest—let’s break off the engagement.”

Lillian looked up at him. “What if I don’t want to?”

He frowned. “Why not? I’ll make it worth your while with the shares. Lillian, this was always just business, right?”

Lillian’s face gradually paled, a little dazed. “From the start, you only saw our engagement as a business deal?”

That’s why the wedding date kept being postponed—he never planned to marry her.

A business partner. When he didn’t need her anymore, he’d walk away. No hard feelings.

He said, “I agreed to the engagement as a stopgap measure.”

*A stopgap measure.*

The heart Lillian offered was nothing but his stopgap measure.

Perhaps seeing her so pale, Carter hesitated. “Business is business, Lillian. I was wrong, but I said I’d compensate you. You don’t love me, I don’t love you—being together would only bring pain.”

Lillian smiled, her smile growing wider with each sentence, until finally dazzling.

She said, “But Carter, what if I told you I did have feelings for you?”

She once told me she didn’t want Carter to stay out of gratitude.

She wanted him to fall in love with her.

“When he loves me, I’ll tell him about our meeting twelve years ago, tell him I’ve loved him for twelve years, waited twelve years, and finally he loves me. Isn’t that romantic, Quinn?”

“We’ll get married, have two kids, grow old together, and when I’m too old to walk, I’ll hold our grandchildren and tell them our story.”

But Carter never loved her, so she had to confess now, before it was too late.

But after hearing her, Carter only frowned in confusion. “Lillian, I don’t remember what happened twelve years ago.”

Lillian looked at him, her smile fading bit by bit.

He paused, then added:

“Besides, I’ve investigated you. Lillian, you sent your stepbrother away as a teenager, caused your stepmother’s miscarriage and divorce, and helped your roommate seduce your own father.”

He sneered, “Miss Avery, you’re all tricks and schemes. This is just business to you, right?”

“Pa—” His words were cut off because I couldn’t stand it anymore and slapped him across the face. Maybe he’d never seen this side of Lillian; he stared at me in shock.

I shook out my hand, glared at him. “Carter Ellison, you make me sick.”

“Lillian has countless schemes, but never used a single one on you. Yet you calculated against her from the start.”

“She must be blind to have fallen for you.”

Then I turned and left. Maybe my words made him suspicious—he looked at me searchingly.

I ignored him.

Lillian was silent inside me.

I asked, “Are you crying?”

Her only true heart was treated like trash. I asked, “If you hadn’t met Carter at sixteen, would you have fallen for him?”

She paused, then told me, “No.”

But she met him, so what could she do? Not too early, not too late—he appeared at just the right time.

He was bathed in a hazy light in Lillian’s memory, and she was obsessed with having him, like chasing a dream from her youth.

I sighed. “Can’t you just stop loving him? You’re too soft, and it’s messing with my game. I want to get back at him, but I have to think about you.”

Her voice was tired, exhausted and lost: “I don’t know, Quinn. I don’t know how to go on.”

She was at a loss, and only Carter could throw her off balance. I couldn’t bear to see her like this.

So I comforted her, “It’s alright, Lillian. I’ll walk with you.”

I’ll always be here. Always.

I will never betray you, never scheme against you, you can always trust me. Through wind and rain, I will always be here.

I will never leave you alone again.

I didn’t expect the hurt Carter gave her to be worse than I imagined.

The day Lillian disappeared was the day she went to try on wedding dresses.

The bridal shop’s assistant greeted her politely: “Miss Avery, your wedding dress has been custom made. When would you like to try it on?”

Even though Carter never planned to marry her, she still went.

It was Vera Wang, covered in pearls and platinum, worth eight and a half million dollars.

When she tried it on, the assistant went pale. “Impossible—these are Mr. Ellison’s measurements. We checked—” She stopped, glanced at Lillian, then stammered, “Sorry, Miss Avery, we’ll double-check with Mr. Ellison.”

“Don’t worry, there’s still time for alterations.”

Lillian said nothing.

I think she knew—it wasn’t the dress that didn’t fit.

It wasn’t the shop that got the size wrong.

This wedding dress was never meant for her.

After leaving the shop, she was hit by a cab that ran a red light on the sidewalk.

Honestly, it wasn’t even serious.

The doctor said it was just minor scrapes.

The police said such a small accident could be settled privately.

The cab driver, red-faced, said, “Miss, you don’t look short of money. I have elders and kids to support. Please don’t make trouble for me.”

Nobody took it seriously.

Only I knew—

Lillian had disappeared from this body.

Before she disappeared, she looked at the cab, and I heard her whisper my name: “Quinn, I’m too tired.”

Yeah, so tired.

Since childhood, she was forced to fight and struggle. After all that, it was all just an illusion, all for nothing.

She was tired and wanted to rest.

I took control, and before she closed her eyes, I gently said, “It’s alright, Lillian. If you’re tired, just sleep.”

When you wake up, everything will be better.

I promise.

When I came to, I heard Carter talking to the doctor.

“We’ve done a full checkup. Miss Avery only has minor surface injuries, nothing serious.”

“Then why hasn’t she woken up yet?”

“She was probably frightened. She’ll wake up soon.”

“Alright, thank you, doctor.” Carter nodded politely, then turned to see me open my eyes.

The polite, distant smile on his face faded, little by little, until he was just blank. After a while, he spoke coldly:

“Lillian, your accident was in the city. The driver was only going 10 miles an hour. He didn’t even touch you. Stop pretending.”

I ignored him.

He probably thought Lillian was faking it, just to get his attention.

He sighed, “Lillian, what do you want?”

Only then did I look up at him.

Cold. Scrutinizing. Indifferent.

I looked at him in confusion, raised an eyebrow, and softly asked in return, “What do I want?”

“Carter, when you and Harper were sneaking around, Lillian was still your fiancée, right?”

“No matter how much you hated her, thought she was scheming, you can’t deny she never let you down, right?”

“When you were twenty-three and entrusted with the family business, when everything was falling apart, wasn’t it Lillian who gave you that last lifeline?”

“All these years, the Ellison and Avery families’ cooperation has brought you plenty of benefits, hasn’t it?”

“Ask yourself, has Lillian ever wronged you?”

I paused, looked him in the eye, and smiled, asking word by word:

“Even if you don’t like her, when she was still your fiancée, you should at least respect her, right?”

“I know you were forced into the engagement, and from your perspective, I wish you luck in pursuing true love. But at least, do it after Lillian agrees to break off the engagement, right?”

My tone probably made him suspicious. He frowned, scrutinizing me, then finally said, “I said I’d make it up to you. Within my ability, I’ll meet your demands.”

I smiled lightly. “But Carter, if it weren’t for Lillian, the entire Ellison family would belong to the Averys. What would you use to bargain with me then?”

I tossed off the blanket and got out of bed.

As I passed him, I looked up at his handsome face. He was looking down at me.

His eyes were deep, unreadable, with a flash of suspicion. As we brushed past, he grabbed my wrist, gripping hard. He asked, “You’re not Lillian. Who are you?”

I pretended to be shocked, sneered, and looked at him:

“Oh, didn’t you dig into my past, Mr. Ellison? Surprised you missed my time in the psych ward.”

“Lillian is gone, Carter. The one standing before you is another Lillian. Didn’t you hate her? Congratulations—she’ll never appear in your world again.”

He froze.

I ignored him.

I called the driver to pick me up. When I returned to the mansion, Lillian’s father was eating, her beautiful, harmless roommate serving him.

I looked him in the eye. “Dad, I’m breaking off the engagement with Carter Ellison.”

It’s not that I want to—I will.

The slap across my face didn’t surprise me. The taste of blood filled my mouth, a faint buzzing in my ears. The roommate cried out, hugging her father’s arm, “Oh my, talk things out. How can you hit her?”

Lillian’s father spoke calmly, “You insisted on marrying him. Now that the Ellison family is strong, you say you don’t want to? Madison, there’s no such cheap thing for Carter Ellison in this world.”

“He doesn’t like Lillian.” I wiped the blood from my mouth.

“Like?” He laughed, not noticing my wording, only dismissing, “He didn’t like you when you insisted on a business marriage, did he?”

I laughed. If there were a mirror, my smile would be identical to Lillian’s right now.

My tone was light:

“But now, I don’t like him either.”

I called Carter. No small talk. “Carter, if you want out, I want 49% of Ellison Group’s shares.”

He paused, then replied coldly, “Impossible.”

I knew he liked Harper, but he wasn’t stupid.

Forty-nine percent of the shares would change the company overnight. I expected his reaction, so I smiled:

“Fine. Then cash out 49% of the shares at their highest price in the past six months and give me the money.”

He wouldn’t give the shares, but he had the money.

It was a huge number, but I knew he could swing it.

As long as he could get rid of me, he would agree.

On the day we signed the contract, there were many people. Both sides’ lawyers checked every clause, while I sat by the window watching birds.

When it came time to sign, Carter looked at me. “We’re square now, right?”

See, he never mentioned Lillian.

He didn’t ask if she’d come back, didn’t ask why she disappeared.

He only cared about severing ties with me.

I sipped tea—something Lillian never touched.

She liked wine, liked coffee, but never touched tea. Carter glanced at my teacup. I just smiled, “Of course.”

As we parted, I stopped him. He turned back, surprised.

I smiled at him—Lillian’s smile. “Carter, Lillian doesn’t love you anymore.”

“She loved you for a long time, but I just thought you should know—she doesn’t love you anymore.”

Carter said nothing, his eyes deep as he looked at me, then turned and left.

That was the last time I saw him.

After getting the money, I cooperated in holding a press conference to announce our breakup.

I smiled for the cameras—soft, gentle. The red eyeshadow at the corners of my eyes made me look both fragile and fierce: “We broke up amicably. The two families will continue to cooperate in some areas, don’t worry.”

Ellison’s stock price fluctuated, but it didn’t matter. After a while, people would forget, and his stock would rise again.

Carter and I weren’t celebrities, but in our world, it was the talk of the town.

Everyone speculated about the real reason behind our breakup.

I smiled and said nothing.

Until someone posted on NYU’s campus forum: “Show off the campus couple you think is the best match.”

Someone posted a photo of Harper Lin and Carter Ellison.

No one knows why, but the post suddenly went viral. Someone asked, isn’t Mr. Ellison engaged to Miss Avery?

They attached a news article from our engagement interview, titled: A Fairy-Tale Love in the Wealthy Circle.

The photo showed Lillian smiling as she leaned on Carter’s shoulder.

Someone replied, “I heard they broke up recently.”

But some didn’t buy it and asked, “No way? Judging by the season in the photo, did Harper come between them?”

See, I told Carter—go after your true love. Just do it after the engagement’s over.

There’s never a shortage of gossip. The post was shared to Instagram and Reddit, and eventually became a list of the most successful homewreckers.

Even distant friends sent me the link, saying, “Lillian, don’t be sad.”

I was so sad—I laughed until I cried at the Ellison stock tanking.

Harper’s days probably weren’t easy either. I went to campus to see her from afar. She wore a mask, walking alone, classmates pointing at her.

I didn’t have to hear to know what they were saying.

“Look, the homewrecker.”

“Still alive.”

“So shameless.”

I heard her advisor even tactfully advised her to withdraw, since she was damaging the school’s reputation.

I sat in the car, smiled, and said to the sleeping Lillian inside:

“Lillian, are you happy?”

No answer.

Three days later, I got a call from Carter.

He sounded tired. “Miss Avery, it’s not very nice to go back on your word, is it?”

I admired my fresh manicure. “Business is business, Mr. Ellison. You’re used to betrayal, right?”

He was speechless.

I smiled, and before hanging up, as if remembering something, I added gently:

“By the way, Mr. Ellison, congratulations to you and Miss Lin on your happy ending.”

“But there’s something Lillian never wanted to tell you. But I’m not her, you know. I’m always happy to help, so here’s a friendly reminder: before dating Harper Lin, you might want to check her background.”

“Like her father, who’s in prison for causing a death while drunk driving—do you know who he killed three years ago?”

He didn’t say anything, but I could hear his breathing get heavier.

I started to laugh. “Tell me, if your late father knew his son was in love with the daughter of the man who killed him, think he’d crawl out of his grave?”

When we got that photo, I had Harper thoroughly investigated.

I remember telling Lillian, “Now you don’t need to do anything. Once Carter knows who her father is, those two will break up on their own.”

But Lillian held the photo, looking lost, and asked, “If Carter finds out, he’ll be really sad, won’t he?”

Even now.

In Carter’s eyes, she’s the ruthless, scheming heiress of the Avery family.

He called her venomous.

He said, business is business, Miss Avery has plenty of tricks, so she should be used to betrayal and scheming, right?

He treated her like that, but she still asked me in a daze:

“If Carter finds out, he’ll be really sad, won’t he?”

That’s the so-called venomous Lillian in his eyes.

But that’s fine. I’m not Lillian.

Lillian is afraid he’ll be sad.

I’m not.

The more he hurts, the happier I am.

I kept the secret, waiting for the day they thought they’d won—true love conquers all, the wicked witch out of the way.

To deliver the final, fatal blow.

Go pursue true love, Carter.

Lillian and I will always wish you well.

It’s just that, before your true love, everything you took from Lillian, I will take back, exactly as it was.

However much you hurt her, I will make you hurt the same.

God, it felt good.

A year later.

Lillian’s father had a stroke. I took over everything.

He sat in a wheelchair, face twisted, unable to speak or move. I squatted in front of him, holding his old, wrinkled hand, sighed, and said, “Look at you—how did you end up like this?”

He couldn’t answer, just stared at me, making garbled sounds.

That night, I stared at myself in the mirror. No matter how I smiled, I couldn’t see a bit of Lillian left.

The person in the mirror had cold eyes, an icy expression.

I called out to the mirror, “Lillian,” just like she used to call me.

I told her her father had had a stroke and been sent to a nursing home.

Finally, I said, “I’ve cleared the way for you, Lillian. You’ll never be tired again. So why won’t you come back?”

The person in the mirror didn’t respond.

Just stared back coldly.

I sighed.

Lillian came back in the spring.

The garden was in full bloom, flowers everywhere. I said, “Lillian, wake up. The spring light is so lovely—if you miss it, you’ll have to wait another year.”

Silence.

I said, “Alright, it’s fine to be sad for love, but there has to be a time limit. If you keep sleeping, that’s impolite.”

The wind gently swept over the sea of flowers.

I waited a long time. Just me, and the silence.

I laughed at myself and turned back to the mountain of paperwork.

When I opened the first one, I heard a soft laugh.

“Spring is so nice, but you’re staring at these headache-inducing numbers. Quinn, I don’t want to look at them.”

I was stunned, then slowly smiled.

I said, “Then let’s not look. We’ll go to Savannah, Aspen, Monterey, Bar Harbor. If you get bored, we’ll go abroad together.”

“The world is so big, the scenery so beautiful—we’ll see it all, step by step.”

She smiled—just like the first time.

Like a pure white lily, trembling gently on its stem—gentle, shy, clean, pure.

She said, “Okay.”

A long, long time ago, Lillian asked me what I really was—whether I truly existed.

Truth is, I don’t know either.

But does it matter whether I really exist, whether ‘I’ am just a delusion of a mental illness?

It doesn’t matter.

Lillian once told me: I am her sanctuary, the only light in her darkest days.

Life’s tough, but I’ve always believed pain and its cure go hand in hand. Hang on long enough, and you’ll find the antidote hiding inside the hurt.

In the end, the only person you can count on is yourself. So love yourself. Never give up. Like Joan Didion said:

“What of the heart? It is like a boundless, lost ford, stretching for thousands of miles, with no ferryman to take you across. Except for self-rescue, others cannot help.”

Lillian asked me what I am.

I am her, and she is me.