They always called her only when Bai Ting needed blood.
“Hurry to the hospital.”
“Go right now.”
“Don’t forget to donate.”
Every time, the voice on the other end sounded cold, impatient, as if she were nothing but a walking blood bag. Yun Qing had gone three times already in just a few months. Her body trembled with weakness, but no one cared—not even her husband, Huo Chuan. For three long years of marriage, his only words to her were orders to donate.
If she was being honest, it wasn’t donating at all. It was selling—selling her blood so that Huo Chuan’s cherished woman, Bai Ting, could live a little longer.
She had tried, once, to be the perfect wife. She rose early, cooked, cleaned, ran errands, handled company paperwork. The Huo family still looked down on her. To them, she was nothing—just a secretary who got lucky. They spoke to her with the kind of politeness that hid disdain underneath. In their home, she was invisible.
But one morning, Yun Qing simply couldn’t bear it any longer. “Let’s get a divorce,” she said. Her voice didn’t shake, but her heart did.
Huo Chuan barely looked up. “Are you throwing a tantrum again? The doctor says Bai Ting’s condition is worsening. If it’s money you want, name it.”
His mother’s voice was even colder. “You should be grateful the Huo family even took you in. A secretary like you should know her place.”
Yun Qing smiled bitterly. “Compensation?” she whispered. “You think I’m doing this for money?” She stared at his handsome face—the same face she once loved enough to ruin herself for—and realized it had never once softened for her.
Something inside her finally broke. “I’m done, Huo Chuan. The only thing I regret is marrying you at all.”
She walked out of the Huo mansion that day and into a sleek black car waiting by the gate. The driver opened the door with respect, and inside sat an older man with a familiar tenderness in his eyes.
“Qingqing,” her father said softly, “you promised me three years. If he didn’t love you by then, you’d come home and take your rightful place. It’s time.”
For the first time in years, Yun Qing smiled—not from joy, but from relief. She had finally stopped bleeding for someone else’s happiness. Now, she would rebuild her own life.
