Chapter 1: The Viperous Mother and Daughter

“Blind fool, pack your things and get out of my house this instant.”

In the Qin family villa, Yanran Qin stood stark naked in the basement where Lin Yang lived, her tone haughty and imperious as she addressed him, kneeling on the floor as he scrubbed.

Lin Yang did not lift his head, nor did he utter a word. He simply continued cleaning the floor.

Yanran Qin kicked him hard, knocking him over.

“Blind bastard! I’m talking to you. Are you deaf as well?”

Slowly, Lin Yang climbed to his feet. Sightless, he couldn’t know that the stunningly beautiful eldest daughter of the Qin family liked to wander around her home without a stitch of clothing.

“I can go,” Lin Yang said calmly, “but I want to take back what’s rightfully mine.”

“And what might that be? Your corneas? Or your shares in Starlight Corporation?” Yanran laughed with disdain. “You blind wretch, what a fantasy life you live. There’s nothing left that belongs to you. The entire Starlight Corporation is our family’s now.”

“Even your pathetic life belongs to us. The fact that I haven’t killed you, and am just throwing you out to fend for yourself, is a mercy.”

Hearing this, Lin Yang couldn’t help but clench his fists; fury burned on his face.

More than ten years ago, Mo Nong Qin had fled to Luo City with her daughter Yanran, living in hardship. Mo Nong was a natural beauty, alone and defenseless, until Lin Yang’s mother saved the two from thugs, gave them shelter, and arranged for Mo Nong to work at Starlight Corporation.

Lin Yang’s mother treated Mo Nong like a sister, nurturing her into the company’s vice president and entrusting her with great responsibility.

Two years ago, Lin Yang’s parents died in a car accident. On their deathbeds, they entrusted the company and Lin Yang to Mo Nong, instructing Lin Yang to call her godmother.

Lin Yang trusted his godmother implicitly, never imagining that Mo Nong was a venomous woman. At the company, she consolidated power, eliminated dissent, and gradually stole all of Lin Yang’s shares.

Worse yet, when Yanran was injured and needed a corneal transplant, Mo Nong had Lin Yang’s corneas cut out and transplanted into her own daughter.

From then on, Lin Yang was blind, kept under Mo Nong’s thumb, raised in the house like a dog, tormented and humiliated by mother and daughter, forced to live in the dark, damp basement, barely surviving.

“What’s this? Angry? Thinking of hitting me?” Yanran sneered, taking a step closer, her chest thrust forward, pressing him, “Go ahead, hit me, you blind fool!”

“Come on, hit me!” With that, Yanran slapped him hard across the face.

She had practiced taekwondo from a young age and now held a fifth-degree black belt; even if Lin Yang still had his sight, he wouldn’t be her match.

These past two years, Lin Yang had been little more than a punching bag for her, often left bloodied and bruised, his ribs kicked and broken.

“Useless! I dare you to hit me. You don’t even have the guts. What’s the point of a coward like you living? You’d be better off dead!”

Blood trickled from Lin Yang’s mouth as anger blazed within him. Two years of humiliation and hatred boiled over in that instant, and suddenly he punched Yanran.

Yanran, never expecting the usually meek Lin Yang to fight back, was caught off guard and took the punch square in the chest.

Lin Yang was momentarily stunned—his fist seemed to have hit something soft and resilient.

Even so, Yanran was hurt; that blow to her tender flesh stung.

“You’re courting death!”

Barefoot, Yanran swung her foot in a wide arc, kicking Lin Yang in the head. He felt as if he’d been struck with a sledgehammer, dazed and spinning, and collapsed to the floor.

Yanran planted her foot on his back, seized his right arm, and with a sharp stomp, broke it. Lin Yang howled in agony.

But even breaking his arm didn’t satisfy her. She rained punches and kicks upon him, beating him until he was covered in blood and scarcely hanging on to life.

“That’s enough! Do you really mean to kill him?” Mo Nong Qin entered the basement, her presence radiating mature elegance.

Yanran was already a tall, voluptuous beauty, but beside her mother, she still fell short.

Mo Nong had given birth to Yanran at fifteen, and was now just thirty-four; as mother and daughter, they looked more like sisters.

There was a depth, a mature allure about Mo Nong that the youthful Yanran could not hope to match.

“Mother, we’ve kept this useless man for two years—what for? We’d be better off beating him to death. Just seeing him disgusts me.”

Yanran clung to her mother’s arm.

“He can’t die yet,” Mo Nong replied, her tone brooking no argument. “If he dies, it will damage my reputation. Otherwise, I would have killed him myself long ago!”

“Mother…”

“Enough. Call Dr. Li to tend to him. There’s urgent business at the company—I need to go.”

“I understand,” Yanran pouted.

But once Mo Nong left, Yanran returned to the basement, sneering. “My mother wants you alive, but I want you dead. Keeping a waste like you around is just a waste of air!”

Yanran dragged Lin Yang out of the basement like a dead dog, leaving a trail of blood behind as she dumped him in the living room.

“Aunt Wang, clean the house thoroughly. I want every trace of him gone. Once it’s dark, take him and throw him in the river—let the fish have him.”

“Yes, miss,” the housekeeper replied.

“But ma’am said he can’t die,” the housekeeper protested.

“Just do as I say. If there’s trouble, I’ll take the blame.”

Annoyed, Yanran waved her off.

Efficiently, the housekeeper dragged Lin Yang outside, dumped him in the trunk, and when night fell and the rain poured, drove to the Luo River. There, she threw him straight into the water.

The heavy rain had swollen the river and quickened its current, but instead of drowning, Lin Yang was swept to the shore.

The icy rain revived him, stirring a desperate will to survive.

He crawled, inch by inch, through the mud, finally reaching a long-abandoned temple on the riverbank, where, utterly spent, he collapsed.

Sprawled on the ground, Lin Yang felt death drawing near, but he was not resigned.

“Damn you, Heaven—are you blind too?”

“Why do good people meet such cruel ends? My parents were kind-hearted, yet they died so tragically. Meanwhile, those venomous Qin women bask in fame and fortune. I refuse to accept it!”

“Curse you, Heaven, damn you! Why are you so unfair?”

Thunder roared, splitting the sky—a bolt struck the ancient, crooked tree outside the ruined temple, reducing it to charred ashes.

“Come on, Heaven, strike me dead if you dare!”

Lin Yang’s eyes bulged with fury, his expression twisted, his curses weak but bitter beyond words.

Lightning flashed, thunder crashed, wind and rain battered the crumbling temple, which shuddered in the storm.

Unable to hold on any longer, his eyelids drooped, consciousness faded, and he slipped into oblivion.

Just then, an old man emerged from behind the temple’s god statue.

“Heaven and earth are merciless. Truly, fate is blind. It seems you are a child of suffering,” the old man sighed. He checked Lin Yang’s body—there was still a faint pulse. Then he lifted Lin Yang’s eyelids.

Suddenly, the old man broke into wild, almost maniacal laughter.

“Born with twin pupils!”

“So, Heaven is not blind after all? To let me, before I die, encounter one with twin pupils… I shall pass on my legacy to you, grant you a stroke of fortune!”