Chapter 2 — The Madman’s Masterpiece

Huan looked at me with an icy expression. "What are you doing here?"

I pointed a finger directly at Hwa Tu-juk. "To beat him."

"What did I do to warrant a beating?" Hwa Tu-juk scrambled to his feet, his eyes darting around nervously.

"This is the Hwa household, not some place where you can run wild!" Huan shouted, his voice thick with fury.

"Did you forget, old man? I carry the Hwa name too, don’t I?" I leaned in close to his ear and shrieked with the intensity of a madwoman, "Father! Father! Father!"

The scream reverberated through the dining hall, piercing the air with such shrillness that it felt as though eardrums might burst. Huan clutched his ears and stumbled backward, his face twisted in agony. "Have you lost your mind?!"

I curled my lip into a mocking smirk. "Whether I am insane or not, isn't that something you know better than anyone?"

Hwa Tu-juk stepped between me and his father, posturing. "You’re a psycho, and you still dare to dream of being part of the Hwa family? You’re delusional."

Playing the dutiful son, are we? I picked up a wine glass from the table, and his body went rigid as a pulled wire. I laughed softly. "Is that why you sent men to threaten me a few days ago?"

"I did not!" He gritted his teeth, his eyes locked on my hand.

"Relax, I’m not going to throw it." I tilted my head back to drain the glass, and he visibly exhaled. But the moment I finished, I laughed and spat the entire mouthful of wine directly into his face and Huan’s.

The father and son scrambled back in a panic, dripping and looking like drowned rats. I stepped forward, calmly wiping my mouth with a linen napkin. "My apologies. The wine was atrocious; I couldn’t bring myself to swallow it."

Hwa Tu-juk raised a fist at me, shaking. "Song Ha, you did that on purpose! If I don't settle this with you today, I'll take your pathetic surname myself!"

No sooner had the words left his lips than a crisp, sharp *snap* echoed through the room. Huan bent over in a panic. "Tu-juk! My son, are you alright?!"

Hwa Tu-juk’s face contorted in pain; he bit his lip so hard he couldn't utter a single sound.

"Song Ha, what exactly do you want?!" Huan roared in anguish.

"Didn't I already say? To beat him." I gestured toward Hwa Tu-juk. "The deed is done, so I’ll be going now." I reached out and snatched a chicken leg from the table as I turned to leave. "Oh, and Father, don’t forget to change the boy’s surname. From now on, call him Song Tu-juk—my son."

Behind me, I heard Huan let out a weary sigh. "Why did you ever cross paths with her… She really is mad."

I arrived at a cemetery where the wind whipped violently at the bouquet I carried. The woman on the tombstone smiled back at me with a gentle, frozen grace. I laid the flowers down. "Mother, I’ve come to visit you."

When I was little, Song Kieu used to visit me at the orphanage. I understood her helplessness. A woman without power or status, she was nothing more than a breeding machine in the eyes of the Hwa family. Every time she saw me, her eyes would brim with tears. She would cautiously try to curry favor with me, whispering "I’m sorry" over and over again.

When I was ten, she promised to take me away from the orphanage. But she never showed up. I stood in the yard for a full day and night, watching the sun set and rise, my hope curdling into despair. I began to hate her. Just as that resentment hit its peak, news arrived that she had died. The papers claimed she suffered from depression and had slit her own wrists. How could that be? How could she do such a thing? I didn't believe it. I wanted to get out and see her one last time, but they locked me away.

Later, I destroyed the orphanage director’s prized possession and was shipped off to a mental institution. I knew that Huan had known of my existence all along; it was he who had me committed. Perhaps he hoped I would simply wither away there. During the first year, I tried to escape constantly, but failed every time. I was watched. I realized my predicament, so I began to crawl in the shadows at midnight and crow like a rooster every morning. After four years of this performance, my guards grew lax. When they asked who I was, I told them I was a rare butterfly from the Amazon—a Vossni butterfly. They burst into laughter, and I rewarded them by "flapping my wings" and slapping them across the face.

Huan heard reports that I had gone completely insane and forgotten my own identity, so he felt safe enough to call off the monitors. That was when I met Doctor Vuong. He guided me with infinite patience, and I played along. Eventually, he cleared me for discharge. By the time I walked out, Huan had likely forgotten he even had a daughter named Song Ha. In his heart, there remained only Hwa Tu-juk and his mother.

Compared to Co Xuyen, I actually knew Tham Am first. Because, you see, she was Huan’s illegitimate child. Not only that, she was in love with Co Xuyen. My twisted ankle had been a calculated move—I did it just to get close to Co Xuyen. After all, I was always particularly confident in my own face. Co Xuyen probably hasn't realized yet that Tham Am and I... look remarkably alike.

Leaving the cemetery, I saw an old woman collapse on the road. She struggled to rise but couldn't seem to manage it. I decided to build up some good karma and offered to help her up. To my surprise, as soon as she stood, she gripped my arm. "Young lady, you hit me. You have to compensate me."

Hmm? This was getting interesting. I looked around; the area was deserted. "Grandma, there are security cameras here."

She lowered her voice and gave a crafty smile. "I already checked. There are no cameras here."

"Oh," I nodded obediently. Then, using only a fraction of my strength, I kicked her flying into the bushes. "You have the gall to be a fraud when there are no cameras? You lack virtue." I laughed to myself.

At the gate of my apartment complex stood a man, staring at the sky at a forty-five-degree angle. I walked past him without a flicker of emotion.

"Song Ha." His deep voice called out. I acted as if I heard nothing and kept walking. He lunged forward to block my path. "Song Ha, I was wrong. Let's make up," he said, his voice low and intimate.

"What is that? Are you leaking exhaust from your mouth?" I scratched at my ear.

"You won't answer my calls, you've blocked me on social media. Song Ha, it's been days, shouldn't you be over your anger by now? I’ve come here in person to apologize; what more do you want?" He was growing impatient.

"I want you to get lost." I screamed at the top of my lungs, pounding my head frantically with my hands. "My head hurts so much! Co Xuyen, I beg you, stop using, and stop hitting me! We already broke up! Oh God, somebody help me!"

Since it was the evening rush hour, everyone walking home stopped and turned to stare at us. Co Xuyen’s face turned bright red, and he grabbed my hand. "Song Ha, what nonsense are you spewing?"

"Aaaa!" I scrambled back desperately. "He’s hitting me! It’s one thing to cheat, but I’m really out of money now—can you please stop using?!"

Several sturdy men emerged from the crowd, grabbed Co Xuyen like he was a scrawny chicken, tied him up, and dragged him away. I wiped away a fake tear, muttered a quick thank you to the crowd, and watched as he was shoved into a car and hauled straight to the police station.

At midnight, I received a text: "Song Ha, if you don't want my love... then let's see how you handle my hatred."

Ugh, my phone is tainted. I curled my toes, typed a quick reply, and sent it: "I wish you a house full of children—all thanks to your 'friends'."

The next day, I dressed listlessly in a loose jacket and headed to the most luxurious office building in the city. Co Xuyen’s text from the night before had made me feel sick all night. On the top floor, a young man sat waiting, his eyes rimmed with red.

"You finally came. I’ve been waiting for you."

I walked over and sank into the sprawling sofa, letting my body be swallowed by the cushions. "How comfortable."

He stared at me, a misty haze veiling his eyes. "You told me to wait a year... but you didn't find me until three years had passed."

I lazily reached out my hand. He immediately leaned forward, bowing his head. I stroked his soft hair, offering a soothing gesture. "Three years apart, and the first thing you do is complain to your big sister?"

"It’s not that..." His brows twitched. "It’s just... I missed you too much. You wouldn't let me find you, you just told me to wait. Every single day, I thought that perhaps, in the very next moment, you would be standing right in front of me."

I tilted my head to look at him. "Such a good boy."