Chapter 1
🖤 BENEATH THE HATE
Chapter 1 — “Everything Falls Apart”
The hospital room was too quiet.
Not the peaceful kind of quiet—but the kind that made your thoughts too loud, too sharp, too painful to ignore.
Wen Yifan sat beside the bed, her fingers wrapped tightly around her mother’s hand.
Cold.
Still.
Unmoving.
Her mother had been like this for eight years.
“Mom…” Yifan whispered, voice trembling. “You said you’d wake up soon… you promised…”
Her throat tightened as she forced a small smile, like her mother could see it.
Like hope alone could wake someone up.
But the heart monitor only replied with its steady, cruel rhythm.
Beep… beep… beep…
The door opened behind her.
Heavy footsteps.
A doctor walked in.
His expression was already cold before he even spoke.
“Miss Wen,” he said flatly, flipping through the file. “We need to talk.”
Yifan quickly stood up.
“Yes, doctor? Is she… is there any change?”
The doctor didn’t answer that.
Instead, he closed the file with a sharp sound.
“You haven’t cleared the outstanding payments.”
The words didn’t immediately register.
Yifan blinked. “I… I paid last week.”
“That doesn’t cover the full amount,” he said. “If this continues, we will be forced to transfer her.”
Her breath caught.
“Transfer…?”
“To a lower-level facility,” he continued coldly. “And you understand the risk involved. Her condition is fragile. Any improper transfer could lead to—”
“Stop.” Yifan’s voice cracked. “Please don’t say that.”
But he didn’t stop.
“—death.”
The word hit like a slap.
Yifan’s knees weakened.
For a second, the room blurred.
“No…” she whispered. “No, please… she can’t—”
She stepped forward suddenly and grabbed the doctor’s sleeve.
“Give me some time,” she begged. “Just a few days. I’ll pay everything. I’ll work more shifts, I’ll— I’ll do anything, just don’t move her.”
Her voice broke completely at the end.
“I’m begging you… please.”
The doctor looked down at her hands gripping his coat.
Then at her face.
There was no sympathy there. Only routine.
“Three days,” he said finally. “That’s all I can extend.”
Then he pulled his sleeve away and left the room.
The door closed.
And Yifan was left alone again.
She didn’t remember how she got home.
The small apartment felt even emptier than the hospital room.
She stood under the shower fully clothed for a moment before turning the water on.
Cold at first.
Then burning.
It didn’t matter.
Because the pain in her chest was worse than anything physical.
Her hands pressed against the wall as she finally broke.
Silent sobs turned into shaking breaths.
“Why…” she whispered. “Why is everything like this…”
Her legs gave out.
She slid down slowly, the water washing over her like it was trying to erase her completely.
But it couldn’t erase memories.
Flashes came anyway.
A night eight years ago.
Rain.
Screams.
Metal twisting.
Her father’s car spinning out of control.
“Dad—!”
The impact.
Silence.
Her father’s motionless body.
Blood on her hands when she tried to pull him.
Her mother unconscious beside her.
“Mom! Mom, wake up!”
The world spinning.
Her own voice screaming for help that never came fast enough.
Yifan jolted awake with a sharp gasp.
She was on her bed now.
Dry.
Shaking.
Her nails dug into the blanket.
“No… no… stop…” she whispered to herself.
But her mind didn’t listen.
It never did.
Elsewhere in the city—
A high-rise apartment stood silent under the night sky.
Inside, Yang Jungwon stood near the glass window, one hand in his pocket, the other holding a phone.
A doctor’s voice echoed from it.
“Her condition is stable, but she is still in critical care.”
Jungwon didn’t respond immediately.
Then—
“Good,” he said coldly.
A pause.
“Keep her alive.”
The doctor hesitated. “And the payment arrangements—”
“I know.”
His voice was calm.
Too calm.
Like nothing in the world could shake it.
The call ended.
Silence returned.
Jungwon didn’t move.
Then, slowly—
A faint, humorless chuckle escaped him.
“Eight years…” he murmured.
His eyes darkened slightly.
“I know she’ll come to me.”
He turned away from the window.
“Because she has nowhere else to go.”
Morning came too fast.
Yifan barely slept.
Her body felt heavy, her mind worse.
But she still got up.
Because she always did.
Because she had to.
Her first job was at a small office.
Her boss didn’t even look up when she entered.
“You’re late,” he said casually.
“I’m sorry,” Yifan quickly replied. “The hospital—”
“I don’t care.”
The words were sharp.
She lowered her head.
He leaned back in his chair, smirking slightly.
“You know,” he said, “people like you always act like they’re suffering the most.”
Yifan stayed silent.
“That expression,” he continued. “It’s getting boring.”
She clenched her hands.
“I’ll work harder today.”
“Work harder?” he laughed. “Or cry harder?”
The office went quiet.
Yifan didn’t respond.
Because responding never changed anything.
Later that day, she was called into the cabin.
Her boss didn’t look up from his papers.
“I’m thinking of removing you,” he said casually.
Yifan froze.
“…sir?”
“You’re slow. Distracted. Not useful anymore.”
Her lips parted.
“Please…” her voice shook. “I need this job.”
He finally looked at her.
And smiled.
But it wasn’t kind.
“You’re a girl, Yifan,” he said slowly. “There are other ways you can—”
“Stop.”
Her voice came out sharper than she expected.
She stared at him, eyes trembling but firm.
“I’m not that kind of person.”
Silence.
Then she grabbed the resignation paper from his desk.
“If you don’t want me here,” she said, voice shaking with anger and pain, “I’ll leave on my own.”
She signed it.
Quickly.
Messily.
Then placed it back down.
“You’re disgusting,” she whispered.
And walked out.
Outside, the wind hit her face.
But it didn’t cool anything.
It only made everything feel more real.
Her steps led her to the Han River.
The water stretched endlessly in front of her.
Peaceful.
Quiet.
Too quiet.
She stood there for a long time.
Watching.
Thinking.
“What if I just…” she whispered.
Her feet moved slightly closer to the edge.
But then—
Her mother’s face flashed in her mind.
The hospital bed.
The machines.
The promise she never broke.
Yifan stepped back quickly, shaking her head.
“No… no, I can’t.”
Her breath trembled.
“I can’t leave her.”
She turned away.
Night came.
She still had one more job.
A small convenience store.
She worked like a machine.
Scanning items.
Bagging.
Smiling when needed.
But her mind wasn’t there.
“Yifan.”
Her manager’s voice cut through her thoughts.
She looked up.
“You’ve been zoning out for an hour,” he said. “Go home.”
“I’m fine, I—”
“You’re fired.”
The words weren’t loud.
But they hit harder than anything else today.
She froze.
“…what?”
“We can’t afford mistakes,” he said. “Just leave.”
Her hands slowly dropped.
She didn’t argue.
Didn’t cry.
Didn’t even respond.
Because there was nothing left to say.
Outside, the night air was cold.
Yifan stood alone on the sidewalk.
Empty.
Jobless.
Helpless.
Her phone buzzed.
A hospital reminder.
Payment due.
Tomorrow.
She stared at the screen.
Then slowly lowered it.
Her voice came out barely above a whisper.
“…how am I supposed to save you, Mom?”
The city lights blurred in her eyes.
And somewhere far above, in a silent high-rise—
Yang Jungwon looked down at the city below.
Waiting.
Patient.
Certain.
Because he believed—
sooner or later—
she would come to him.The apartment was silent when Yifan finally returned home.
For a moment, she simply stood at the door.
Too tired to move.
Too tired to think.
The events of the day replayed endlessly in her mind.
The hospital bill.
The doctor's warning.
Losing her office job.
Getting fired from the convenience store.
Everything she had spent years holding together felt like it was crumbling apart.
Slowly, she slipped off her shoes and walked toward the bathroom.
The mirror reflected a girl she barely recognized.
Dark circles beneath her eyes.
Pale skin.
Shoulders slumped with exhaustion.
When was the last time she had looked healthy?
When was the last time she had laughed?
She couldn't remember.
The shower water poured over her body.
Warm.
Comforting.
But it couldn't wash away the fear squeezing her chest.
Her mother only had a few days left before the hospital would transfer her.
A transfer could be dangerous.
The doctor had made that very clear.
Yifan pressed a trembling hand against her mouth.
"Mom..."
The word came out broken.
"I don't know what to do anymore."
The bathroom echoed with her quiet sobs.
For years she had survived.
Working before school.
Working after school.
Working during holidays.
Working through fevers.
Working through grief.
Working through loneliness.
Everything for one person.
Her mother.
The only family she had left.
The only reason she kept moving forward.
Eventually the water grew cold.
Yifan forced herself out.
Her body felt strangely heavy.
Her head hurt.
Her throat burned.
She had probably caught a fever.
But there was no time to be sick.
There never was.
After drying her hair, she climbed into bed.
The room was dark.
Lonely.
The kind of lonely that seemed to breathe beside you.
She pulled the blanket closer.
Sleep never came easily.
Not anymore.
Every time she closed her eyes—
The accident returned.
Rain.
Screeching tires.
Glass shattering.
Her father's voice.
Blood.
So much blood.
Yifan woke with a gasp.
Her chest rose and fell rapidly.
The nightmare again.
Always the same nightmare.
The clock showed 4:17 a.m.
She buried her face into her pillow.
"Please stop..."
But memories never listened.
Not after eight years.
Not after losing everything.
By morning, she had slept less than two hours.
The sunlight creeping through her curtains felt cruel.
Her body ached.
Her head pounded.
But she still got up.
Because life didn't stop simply because she was tired.
Yifan opened the old wooden drawer beside her bed.
Inside sat a faded box.
One she hadn't touched in years.
Her fingers trembled slightly as she lifted the lid.
Old documents.
Photographs.
Letters.
Memories she usually avoided.
Then she saw it.
A business card.
The elegant black card looked expensive even after all these years.
Yang Corporation.
A name connected to a past she wanted to forget.
Yifan stared at it.
Eight years.
It had been eight years.
Surely he wouldn't even remember her.
Back then they had only crossed paths briefly.
He probably had a completely different life now.
Maybe he wouldn't even answer.
But she had no one else.
No relatives.
No friends with enough money.
No support.
No options.
Slowly, she picked up her phone.
Her thumb hovered over the number.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
Finally—
She pressed call.
The line barely rang.
Someone answered immediately.
Almost as if they had been waiting.
Yifan froze.
"Hello?"
Silence.
Then a deep male voice.
Calm.
Cold.
Unfamiliar yet strangely intimidating.
"I had no other choice," Yifan rushed out nervously. "I'm really helpless right now and my mother—"
"Come to my office."
Her words stopped.
"What?"
"Eleven o'clock."
The voice remained emotionless.
Then—
The call ended.
Yifan stared at her phone.
Confused.
The entire conversation had lasted less than twenty seconds.
Meanwhile, several floors above the city, Yang Jungwon slowly lowered his phone.
A faint smile touched his lips.
Not warm.
Not kind.
Patient.
The smile of someone whose plan had finally begun.
"Finally."
His gaze shifted toward the skyline.
Eight years.
Eight years of waiting.
And she had called exactly when he knew she would.
Just as desperate.
Just as alone.
Just as vulnerable.
Everything was unfolding perfectly.
Back in her apartment, Yifan hurried to get ready.
She opened her wardrobe.
Most of her clothes were old from years of overuse.
But she finally found one of the few outfits she had carefully preserved.
A simple pleated skirt.
A soft silk blouse.
Nothing expensive.
Nothing flashy.
Just neat.
Respectable.
After brushing her hair and applying a little concealer beneath her eyes, she looked at herself once more.
Still tired.
Still worried.
But presentable enough.
At exactly ten o'clock she left.
The company building was enormous.
Glass walls reflected the bright sky.
Employees in expensive suits walked confidently through the entrance.
Yifan suddenly felt very small.
Very out of place.
But she forced herself forward.
The receptionist greeted her professionally.
"Do you have an appointment?"
"Yang Jungwon asked me to come."
The receptionist made a call.
A few moments later she nodded.
"Please wait."
Yifan smiled politely.
"Thank you."
She sat down.
Ten forty-five.
There was still time.
She folded her hands in her lap and waited quietly.
Eleven o'clock arrived.
Nothing happened.
Eleven fifteen.
Nothing.
Eleven thirty.
Still nothing.
Her stomach growled softly.
She hadn't eaten breakfast.
She couldn't afford to.
No one called her.
No one looked at her.
Employees passed by carrying coffees and expensive lunches.
The smell made her stomach twist painfully.
Twelve o'clock.
Still waiting.
Yifan checked the time again.
Maybe he forgot.
Maybe she should leave.
Maybe—
"Miss Wen?"
She looked up immediately.
The receptionist smiled.
"Mr. Yang will see you now."
Relief flooded through her.
"Thank you."
She quickly stood.
An assistant appeared and guided her toward the executive floor.
Every step felt heavier than the last.
The hallway seemed endless.
The office doors grew larger.
More intimidating.
More expensive.
Until finally they stopped before a massive black door.
The assistant opened it.
"Please go in."
Yifan swallowed.
Her hands felt cold.
She carefully adjusted her blouse.
Smoothed her skirt.
Took one deep breath.
Then stepped inside.
The door clicked shut behind her.
The office was enormous.
Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the city.
Dark furniture.
Cold colors.
A space that somehow felt more like a fortress than a workplace.
Slowly—
Yifan lifted her gaze.
And froze.
The world seemed to stop.
Her heartbeat thundered inside her chest.
Because sitting behind the desk was a man she had never expected to see again.
And for the first time in eight years—
Yang Jungwon looked directly at her.
To be continued
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