Chapter 19: Her Blood, Stained Him Crimson

Huo Sijue’s pupils snapped wide open—his breath hitched like a blade had just sliced through his chest.

“A *sacrifice*? Is that what this is? Fine. Then today… I’ll play right along with you, Huo Sijue. I’ll give you my life—just to save my son’s. Is that possible? If I die… promise me you’ll never let that *bitch* touch my boy again!”

Each word came out slow, deliberate, smeared with blood from her lips. Her eyes—red, bloodshot, as if filled to the brim with crimson—locked onto his, sending a chill down even the bravest spine. The sight was grotesque, terrifying. And yet… something deep inside him twisted, a dull ache pulsing in his chest.

Huo Sijue clenched his fingers so hard his knuckles cracked.

He was stunned. For the first time in his life, he couldn’t meet her gaze.

She was insane.

Did she even know what she was doing?

He lunged forward, snatching the object from her trembling hand—only to realize it was a shard of broken glass, torn from the shattered windowpane.

“Wen Xuxu! Are you *fucking* serious?!”
His mind exploded. He tossed the glass aside and screamed toward the deck.

Thankfully, the med kit had already been brought up—thanks to the earlier alarm about the woman cutting herself. One shout, and two guards burst in, carrying the case.

Huo Sijue felt like he was losing his mind. He’d never seen a woman so unhinged.

This woman—this *madwoman*—had always been either the timid, obedient wife five years ago or the bold, defiant one now. But *this*? This raw, desperate fury? He’d never seen her like this.

For a single sentence from him… she’d throw away her life?

On his blood-splattered face, something cracked—just slightly.

—

That day, Gu Xia had already laid her own escape route.

She knew—no matter how fast she’d silenced Wen Xuxu at the scene—she’d seen the woman abuse Huo Yin with her own eyes. She wouldn’t let her go without consequence.

So after returning, she took Huo Yin straight to Huo Sijue and confessed everything.

*First strike, best strike.* That was the rule.

And sure enough, Huo Sijue didn’t scold her harshly. When she said she’d accidentally hurt the child, he glanced at the little hand—quiet, uncomplaining—and waved her off.

Five years. Five years of playing the perfect wife, the devoted mother. And she’d done it flawlessly.

So when afternoon rolled around, she wasn’t afraid. She was relaxed. Even *pleased*. Especially when she heard the news: the woman locked in the cabin—starving, refusing water—still hadn’t drawn a single glance from Huo Sijue.

Wen Xuxu, huh? You want to play games with me?

But by evening, the ship erupted with another shock—the woman had *killed herself*.

Gu Xia’s expression flickered.

Suicide?

Why? Was she trying to lure him over? To make him *come*?

That bitch… she was ruthless.

Smart too. The thought hit her instantly. A cold dread slithered up her spine. She bolted from her cabin, ready to see for herself.

Too late.

She barely stepped out when two guards stood waiting at her door.

“Miss Gu. The CEO wants you downstairs. Please.”

“…”

Her limbs turned to ice. She nearly collapsed on the spot.

The thing she feared most had finally come.

Gu Xia was led down—her first time ever dragged before Huo Sijue in such a disgraceful way. After five years of luxury, power, and prestige as the mistress of the Huo family, she was being brought down like a common criminal.

The sea at night was icy, wind biting like knives. It carried the stench of salt and rot, slamming against the glass of the main cabin in relentless waves—each crash echoing in the silence, making the blood run cold.

There she stood, eyes locking onto the man sitting on the edge of the bed.

He was bent over, studying the small hands of the child tucked beneath the blankets—every inch of skin, every fingertip examined with unnerving care.

“S-Sijue…”
She froze. Another wave of terror washed over her. Her legs gave out. She couldn’t move.

Huo Sijue ignored her.

He finished inspecting the boy’s hands, then gently tucked him back into the covers, tucking them tight—no draft, no chill, nothing could reach him.

Gu Xia trembled violently.

“S-Sijue… I…”

One question, low and deadly:

“Did you hit him?”

The words dropped like stones. No warmth. No mercy. From the side, his face looked carved from stone—every line sharp, every shadow edged with lethal intent. Like the storm raging outside.

Gu Xia broke.

Her knees buckled. She fell to the floor, sobbing.

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry, Sijue… I just… I got so angry… I didn’t mean to… I swear I didn’t—”

“So you admit it?” His voice was colder than the ocean. “Gu Xia—*who* gave you the right? My son? I wouldn’t touch him with a single hair on my finger. How dare you lay a hand on him? *Who* gave you the nerve?”

The last three words weren’t a question.

They were a death sentence.