In a world where some bask in the joy of romantic dates, there are others suffering in silence.
And when one person's suffering becomes a chain that drags others into misery, the weight of that compounded agony is nothing short of suffocating.
Inside a luxurious private estate that even the wealthiest elites would envy, Chen Motong trembled as she watched her father—a cold, imposing man in the center of the great hall—viciously beat one of her brothers until he was covered in blood. Around them, a circle of siblings stood silently, watching the grotesque drama unfold without emotion.
The blood-soaked brother twitched in spasms of pain. Nearby, a pack of massive, feral hounds—so muscular they seemed more beast than pet—watched hungrily, waiting for the father's command to descend and tear the poor boy apart.
Though the scene had the appearance of a family meeting, it was in truth a brutal and calculated public punishment, staining the very concept of "family" with cruel violence and cold detachment.
Chen Motong couldn't even tell which brother was being punished anymore.
After all, she had fifty-four siblings. Most weren't even born of the same mother—only a few were twins or triplets.
But this didn't mean her father was some hedonistic playboy. Quite the opposite. In Chen Motong's eyes, the man was cruel and devoid of affection.
Her father was proud of his dragon bloodline. Through his vast investments in various medical institutions, he used his wealth and influence to find impoverished women willing to act as surrogates for artificial insemination, all in the name of spreading his bloodline.
The resulting children were never raised by their birth mothers. The average ones were sent to orphanages funded by the family. Only those with "excellent lineage" were brought under his personal tutelage.
This was the Chen family—a dynasty run like a corporation. The children were employees. Most, low-level workers. But a select few—those like Chen Motong—were seen as elite staff with the potential to inherit managerial power.
And like all corporations, there were performance reviews and strict reward and punishment systems.
Every so often, the patriarch would visit his "elite employees"—usually on weekends or school holidays—to personally inspect their academic performance. Those who excelled received rewards. The system remained in place even after they started managing family businesses.
The brother currently being beaten had failed a performance check.
Chen Motong didn't know what the boy had done—each sibling managed different responsibilities—but she heard her father yell phrases like "shipment intercepted" and "they caught us red-handed."
Normally, the family had enough resources to silence authorities and resolve legal troubles with ease.
But this time… her father was truly enraged.
Which meant the situation was dire—possibly involving a force even he feared, one that couldn't be simply bought off.
"So... has he finally encountered someone he can't deal with?" Chen Motong wondered, her eyes narrowing as a rebellious thought surged through her mind—one she dared not say aloud:
"What if this family could just disappear forever?"
Ever since her mother died and she learned the truth behind the family's operations, she had felt no warmth toward this place.
But the idea was fleeting. Her father's iron grip was embedded deep within the household. He ruled with invisible threads of dominance and coercion, binding his children with power and fear, weaving an inescapable web of control.
Chen Motong had tried to break free before, but her siblings had already fallen too deep. When one of them was beaten nearly to death, none shed a tear. If anything, they silently wished for one fewer rival in the inheritance war.
Whenever she interacted with them, an invisible, tragic wall seemed to divide them all—and it only grew thicker with age.
"Motong," her father said at last, now finished with the punishment. He wiped the blood from his face and walked toward her, wearing a warm, fatherly smile. But when paired with what he'd just done, that smile was terrifying.
"Many of my children have disappointed me, but not you. You are my most exceptional daughter. You've never let me down, and I trust you never will… right?"
Disgusting.
"I'm not Motong. My name is Nono," the girl snapped, voice filled with rage like a lioness ready to strike.
She had long grown sick of this man's face. As a child, she had once been lured by the false warmth of his fatherly act. But her mother's death tore that illusion apart, revealing the cannibalistic nature of this "family."
Since that day, she severed ties in her heart and gave herself a new name: Nono.
"Fine, fine… Nono," her father said, not angry, but rather amused. To him, she wasn't a lioness—just a defiant kitten.
He indulged her rebellion. As long as she remained the most capable of his children, she'd receive his "special affection." Though Nono lacked a genetic ability, she surpassed all her siblings in learning speed alone. To her father, that was reason enough to invest in her—and reason enough for her siblings to burn with envy.
"Nono, have you heard of the Gattuso family?"
"…What?" Nono blinked in confusion, unsure why her father would bring up that name.
"The Gattuso family—currently a rising star within the Secret Party, a prominent mixed-blood clan in Italy. They hold one of the seven director seats at the main campus of Kassel College," he said, layering the name with glittering prestige.
"Pompeii Gattuso, the current head, has a son: Caesar Gattuso. He's reached a suitable age for engagement. Nono, the Chen family is facing an unstable future. We need the Gattusos' support."
Her face froze as the realization dawned.
This man… wants to marry me off? To cement a political alliance with the Gattusos?
Still smiling, her father continued in a voice that held no room for negotiation, "Motong, my dearest daughter. The family needs you."
Despair surged like a rising tide, silent but crushing, drowning her heart completely.
(End of Chapter)
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