1 The night before the art competition, Johnny Blackwood was dragged into a dark alley by a gang of thugs. When found, his hands were crushed, left ear deafened, and he'd need a catheter for life - meaning he could never paint again. His doting sister Sarah vowed revenge, while his fiancée Veronica summoned top doctors. But on the third day, wheelchair-bound Johnny overheard them at the hallway corner: "You promised they'd just make him miss the competition!" Veronica's voice trembled. Before Johnny could process this, Sarah's cool voice followed: "The thugs went too far, but this works. The championship must go to Leo now." "But—" "No buts. Johnny's always been the golden boy - he'll live comfortably even crippled. But Leo...that adopted boy's been walking on eggshells his whole life. This art title is all he has. Johnny's talent was in the way." Her voice hardened. "I won't let anyone block Leo's path." "Veronica, we’re best friends, closer than sisters. Men are… expendable. I know you love Johnny, and you’re getting married soon, but didn’t you promise me you wouldn’t let your feelings for Johnny jeopardize Leo’s future?" Veronica fell silent for a long, agonizing moment, then sighed in what sounded like reluctant surrender, as if trying to convince herself. "I understand. Johnny’s in pain every day, he can’t sleep. Make sure the doctors give him the strongest painkillers." They extinguished their cigarettes, their footsteps fading into the distance. Silence, thick and suffocating, descended around Johnny. All he could hear was the sound of his own heart exploding. So, the thugs in the alley that day weren't an accident. It was a meticulously orchestrated slaughter. And the ones holding the knives were the two people he trusted most in the world. Johnny’s lips parted. He wanted to scream, to cry out his agony! But the torrent of grief and despair that rose to his throat emerged only as a pathetic whimper. Until today, Johnny had clung to a fragile hope, repeating to himself, "It’s okay." Despite the most horrific ordeal, he still had his sister, his fiancée, the two women who supposedly loved him most. Yet now, they had personally confirmed it: his living hell, his shattered body, his fragmented, bleeding heart—all of it was their doing! Tears blurred his vision. He sat in his wheelchair, trembling uncontrollably, the pain so intense it threatened to rip him apart. He couldn’t comprehend how it had come to this. He had once been the Blackwood family’s brightest jewel. Sarah had raised him with tender devotion, never uttering a harsh word. Veronica had indulged his every whim, proclaiming since childhood that she’d marry no one but him. Johnny had lived like a carefree sunbeam, believing others would always shield him from life’s storms. Until he was fourteen. That year, his parents welcomed Leo, the orphaned son of a deceased friend, into their home. The skinny, timid boy, clad in a faded shirt, stood in the Blackwood living room, head bowed, murmuring, "Brother Johnny." Young Johnny, in his innocence, had even given him his favorite toy car, utterly unaware that this "poor" Leo would become the most agonizing torment of his life. At first, it was small things. Leo shattered his mother’s antique vase, then, with tear-filled eyes, claimed Johnny had done it. Leo misplaced his competition entry form, then, with a pained expression, insisted it was an accident. And each time, Sarah would frown and say, "Johnny, don’t make a fuss." Veronica would rub her temples and urge, "Leo didn’t mean to, Johnny, just let him have it." Then things grew increasingly absurd. The competition he’d spent three months preparing for, its winner’s list bore Leo’s name. The final exhibition he’d tirelessly painted for, it was Leo who stood in the spotlight. He felt like a glass bottle slowly being drained of air, watching helplessly as everything that was his was systematically slipped into Leo’s pocket. The most ridiculous part was that he genuinely believed it was his fault, that he wasn’t good enough. But today, a terrifying clarity settled over him. From the very beginning, every precious thing he cherished had been personally handed to Leo by the two people he trusted most. His excellence was a flaw, his talent a sin. His very existence was merely a stepping stone for Leo. But Veronica was his fiancée! Sarah was his own sister! And Leo? He was just an adopted son! After his parents’ passing, they had become his sole refuge. Yet now, they had personally destroyed him! Johnny no longer knew why he should continue living in this world, not like this… He drifted in a daze, his trembling hands pushing the wheels of his chair. Just as he was about to make a desperate decision, to let himself and the wheelchair tumble down the stairs, his phone suddenly vibrated in his pocket. A string of unfamiliar numbers flashed on the screen. Johnny let it ring for a long time before finally answering. "Hello?" "Mr. Blackwood." A deep male voice answered from the other end. "We are the Nova Pharmaceutical Institute." "…What is it?" "We’ve heard about the various… unfortunate incidents you’ve experienced," the voice said softly. "Perhaps you’d be willing to become a test subject for us?" Johnny laughed, a hollow, broken sound that dissolved into tears. "Am I not miserable enough already?" "No. Our new drug… it can grant you a rebirth." "…What?" "Bone regeneration, hearing restoration, even…" He paused. "It can allow you to return to a normal life, to stand in the spotlight once more." Johnny’s heart gave a violent jolt. "Why me?" "Because," the voice fell silent for a moment, then spoke each word distinctly, "only those who have been utterly destroyed are worthy of true resurrection." Johnny’s body stiffened abruptly, and he finally halted the wheelchair’s movement. He stared blankly out the window, the sunlight so blinding it brought fresh tears to his eyes. A moment later, he clutched his phone tightly. "All right. I accept!" 2 The person on the other end sounded genuinely pleased, promising to pick him up soon. After agreeing, Johnny silently hung up the phone and returned to his hospital room, pretending as if he’d heard nothing out of the ordinary. The days that followed were a blur of excessive kindness from Veronica and Sarah, right up until his discharge. On the day he was leaving, Veronica knelt, carefully helping him put on his cotton socks. Her long, slender fingers meticulously avoided the injuries on his legs, her touch as gentle as if she were handling fragile porcelain. "Does it hurt?" She looked up, her deep eyes overflowing with concern. Johnny shook his head, numbly. "The discharge papers are all handled." Sarah pushed open the door, holding a brand-new jacket. "It’s windy outside, Johnny. Bundle up." As she leaned over to drape the jacket around him, Johnny caught a familiar citrus scent. It was the same scent from the perfume he’d given her for her eighteenth birthday. A sudden wave of nausea churned in his stomach. He bit down hard on his lower lip to keep from retching right then and there. The wheelchair rolled across the polished floor of the hospital lobby, and Johnny could feel the gazes from all directions. The catheter bag hung discreetly on the side of the chair, making a faint rustling sound with each movement. A passerby looked at it with curious eyes, and Sarah immediately shot them a cold glare. "What are you staring at?" Veronica’s warm hand covered his eyes. "Don’t be afraid." Her voice was impossibly soft, dripping with false comfort. "We’ll protect you." Johnny trembled, unsure if it was from fury or sorrow. If he hadn’t overheard their conversation with his own ears, how could he possibly believe that these two women, who outwardly showered him with such care, were the very demons who had shoved him into hell? "Johnny, wait here for a moment," Veronica said, pushing his wheelchair to a shaded spot near the entrance. "We’ll go get the car." Watching their retreating figures, Johnny suddenly turned his wheelchair. He’d rather crawl away than accept their hollow pretense of care. Just as his wheelchair rounded the hospital corner, familiar voices drifted from a secluded corner of the parking lot. "Have all the ugly rumors about Johnny been leaked?" Sarah’s voice was chillingly sharp. "Yes." Veronica’s response was hesitant. "But Johnny’s already in such a bad state. Do we really need to fabricate these humiliating rumors about him?" "Of course, we do!" Sarah’s voice turned harsh. "Only by completely destroying his reputation in the art world can we ensure he’ll never pose a threat to Leo again!" The wheelchair slammed violently into the wall. Johnny clapped a hand over his mouth, the metallic taste of blood spreading in his mouth. They not only wanted to ruin his life, but also to tarnish his name? He spun his wheelchair frantically, desperate to escape, but instead, he collided headfirst into a throng of reporters gathered at the hospital entrance. "Mr. Blackwood! Is it true that your injuries are a result of you maintaining ambiguous relationships with multiple women?" "Can you explain your ties to those women?" "As a once distinguished artist, don’t you feel ashamed of such a dissolute lifestyle?" At that moment, a frenzied mob of fans suddenly surged forward, pushing through the crowd. They began assaulting him, shouting obscenities. "Johnny Blackwood, I was blind to ever like you! You’re absolutely disgusting!" "Johnny Blackwood, I’m going to rip your face off!" Someone started it, and soon, countless hands began tearing at his clothes, slapping his face. "No… no… don’t touch me!" Johnny shrieked in terror, pushing away the grasping, filthy hands, but it was useless. Riiip! With the sound of tearing fabric, Johnny was exposed, his ragged clothes revealing the grotesque tapestry of fresh wounds that marred his skin. A wave of profound humiliation washed over him. His breathing hitched, choking him with pain. "Ugh, how sickening! He’s even wearing a catheter!" "Oh my god, quick, take pictures and post them online! Let everyone see how filthy their new artistic male god is in private!" After a momentary silence, disgusted murmurs and sneers erupted, like a barrage of stinging slaps that made his ears ring. Johnny heard nothing more. Large tears streamed down his cheeks, the salty drops stinging his raw wounds like biting ants. "Get out! All of you, get out!" Veronica’s voice suddenly bellowed. She charged into the crowd, shielding him with her body. Sarah, her face grim and furious, roughly pushed reporters aside. They worked together so seamlessly, so convincingly, that Johnny couldn't find a single flaw in their performance. But only he knew this entire spectacle had been meticulously orchestrated by their own hands. They wanted to crucify him on the pillar of shame, utterly ruining his reputation, making him live like a rat in a sewer, forever hidden from the light. And Leo, their cherished "prince," would stand on the most dazzling stage, basking in the adoration and praise of the world. Clearly, they had succeeded! 3 Back at the Blackwood family manor, Leo was waiting at the entrance. He wore Johnny’s favorite pale blue hoodie, his hair styled into the very same wolf-tail cut that had once been Johnny’s signature look. "Brother!" he chirped, scampering over, his face etched with a veneer of false concern. "I’m so sorry, the competition was so hectic, I’ve only just managed to come see you." Sarah and Veronica’s eyes immediately lit up. "How was the competition?" Leo strode into the living room, triumphantly holding aloft a gleaming gold trophy. "First place! The judges said my painting was flawless!" Johnny stared fixedly at the trophy that should have been his. A phantom pain flared in his left hand. He remembered the last time he’d stood on a competition stage, brush in hand, painting freely under the spotlight. But now, thanks to his own sister and fiancée, even standing was an impossible dream. The three of them huddled around the trophy, laughing and chatting, completely oblivious to the crippled man in the wheelchair. Johnny pushed his own chair towards the elevator. Leo immediately hurried after him, offering, "Let me help you, brother…" When they reached the third floor and stepped out of the elevator, Leo suddenly leaned close to Johnny’s ear. "Brother, you’re so disgusting, with that catheter bag. Tell me, when Sister Veronica touches you later, will she smell stale urine?" Johnny’s face went white. Before he could speak, Leo suddenly shrieked, "No, brother!" then dramatically arched his back, tumbling down the stairs. "Leo!" "What happened?!" When Sarah and Veronica rushed over, Leo was curled on the floor, sobbing. "Sister Sarah, Sister Veronica, it’s not brother’s fault… he’s just so upset… he said why should his hands and legs be ruined when I can still live normally…" "Johnny Blackwood! Are you out of your mind?!" Sarah grabbed the wheelchair’s handle, her grip so strong that the metal groaned under the strain. She leaned in close, her eyes, which had always gazed at him so tenderly, now burned with fury. "Do you have any idea what his legs mean to a dancer, Leo?" Johnny looked up at his sister, and a bitter laugh escaped him. The mirth never reached his eyes, instead making his pale face appear even more gaunt. "So, Sister knows, too," he murmured, his fingers unconsciously tracing his numb legs. "Knows how important legs are to a dancer." Veronica stood by, her long fingers clenched into fists. She opened her mouth as if to speak, but seeing Leo’s swollen ankle, she clamped her lips shut. "Apologize." Sarah’s voice was as cold as ice. "Apologize to Leo, now." The boy in the wheelchair straightened his back, just as he had done a thousand times on stage. "Why should I apologize? He fell on his own." The air in the hallway solidified. Leo suddenly sniffled, then limped forward. "It’s okay, Sister Sarah… Brother’s just in a bad mood, I understand…" "Leo!" Sarah held him, her voice thick with concern. "You’re just too understanding." Johnny turned his wheelchair, the metal wheels grinding a grating sound against the marble floor. He didn’t want to watch this farce any longer, nor did he want to see the triumphant gleam in Leo’s eyes. Night fell. Johnny leaned against the headboard, staring out at the stark moonlight. The bedroom door creaked open, and Veronica entered, carrying a glass of milk. "Johnny, drink some milk, it’ll help you sleep." She placed the glass on the nightstand, her voice soft. "Come on, be a good boy, finish it all." The moment the door closed, Johnny’s eyes turned completely cold. He picked up the milk, then unhesitatingly poured it into a potted plant. Around midnight, a rustling sound startled him from his shallow sleep. He squinted, seeing a dark silhouette standing by his bed. "Johnny?" Veronica’s voice was barely a whisper. Johnny held his breath, his body rigid as a corpse. After confirming he was unresponsive, a pair of large hands suddenly grabbed him roughly, and a burlap sack was yanked over his head! "Mmph!" He struggled instinctively but was slammed hard onto the floor. The searing pain of his spine hitting the ground made his vision swim, but he bit down on his lip, refusing to make a sound. "Sarah, aren’t we going too far?" Veronica’s voice trembled. "Johnny’s legs are already like this, and you want me to drug him, then tie him up and bring him here to support Leo?" "Feeling bad?" Sarah’s cold laugh felt like a knife twisting in Johnny’s gut. "He wasn’t gentle when he pushed Leo. Anyway, his hands and legs are numb, a few blows will serve as a lesson." The rough burlap scratched his skin. Johnny clenched his fists, knuckles white. They were right; his legs truly felt no pain. But his heart felt as if it were being torn in two. "Do it." Sarah commanded, her voice icy. When the first blow landed, Johnny heard a dull thud from his leg bones. The second, the third… he was tossed around like a broken rag doll, repeatedly struck. "Ugh…" A cry of pain, finally escaping his tightly clenched teeth. The thudding of the stick abruptly ceased. "Who’s there?!" Sarah’s voice shot up, piercing the silence. The next second, Johnny felt trembling hands grab the edge of the burlap sack, slowly peeling it back… 4 "Meow!" A sharp, piercing cat’s cry sliced through the night air, and Sarah’s hand, which had been peeling back the burlap sack, suddenly froze. Veronica let out a long, shaky breath. "Just a stray cat." In the darkness, Johnny’s nails dug deep into his palms, blood oozing from between his fingers, leaving dark red stains on the sack. … Morning light spilled through the curtains, bathing the room. Johnny quietly observed the fresh bruises blooming on his legs. "What happened here?" He pointed to the jarring marks, his voice unnervingly calm. Sarah’s gaze flickered. "Perhaps… you didn’t sleep well last night, and fell out of bed?" Veronica quickly interjected, changing the subject. "Johnny, your birthday is next week. What do you want for a gift?" She knelt, gently taking his hand just as she used to. "How about I throw you the grandest birthday party?" Johnny remembered his birthdays before he turned fourteen. He’d wear a custom-made suit, Sarah would personally fasten a necklace around his neck, and Veronica would be waiting in the luxurious car gifted to him, clutching a bouquet of flowers. But everything had changed since Leo arrived. The favored one at the party became Leo. "No need," he said softly. "Of course, we will!" they both exclaimed in unison, their eyes shining with a fervor that suggested genuine concern. Veronica knelt down, taking his hand. "We’re going to throw you the grandest party." In the following days, Sarah and Veronica were rarely home, leaving early and returning late. Even Leo was nowhere to be seen. Johnny watched their dusty, tired appearances with cold detachment. Until his birthday arrived— "Johnny, these are the clothes and accessories I’ve prepared for you." Veronica hastily placed a delicate gift box on the bed. "I’ll go set up your special seat. Once you’re changed, we’ll leave." After the door closed, Johnny noticed Veronica’s phone lying on the bed. The moment the screen lit up, his blood ran cold. It was a group chat, the glaring name "Little Prince and His Two Princesses." The latest message was a photo from Leo: Sister Veronica, Sister Sarah, do my clothes look good today? Johnny’s trembling fingers scrolled upwards: a selfie of Leo at the Eiffel Tower; a photo of Sarah arm-in-arm with him, eating ice cream; a video of Veronica fastening a limited-edition watch on his wrist… So, all their "preparations" these past few days had merely been an excuse for a trip to Europe with Leo. And the formal wear in his hands now? The tag clearly read "Complimentary Gift." Tears splattered onto the phone screen. Johnny mechanically put it back. When Veronica returned, she seemed surprised to find him still unchanged. Just as she was about to speak, he said softly, "My legs are too ugly. I don’t want to change." "Don’t say that." Veronica cradled his face in her hands, her expression heartbroken. "You’ll always be my little prince." With that, she instructed the staff to help Johnny change into the formal wear and accessories, then pushed him into the car. The banquet hall glittered with opulence, yet no one spared a glance for the birthday boy in the wheelchair. Sarah remained at Leo’s side throughout, helping him cut the cake, while Veronica fussed over his hair. Johnny felt like an outsider, watching his own birthday party transform into another boy’s grand showcase. Suddenly, the ground beneath them lurched violently! "Earthquake!" The crowd instantly erupted into chaos. Johnny watched, paralyzed, as Sarah and Veronica simultaneously dashed towards Leo. His wheelchair was knocked over. As the ceiling crashed down, he heard Veronica’s distant cry: "Johnny—" Darkness swallowed everything. "Aftershocks are coming! Both young masters are trapped, who do we rescue first?" A frantic rescue worker’s voice pierced the debris. "Mr. Blackwood’s position is more dangerous, if he’s not rescued immediately, he might need an amputation!" "Then let it be," Sarah’s voice was terrifyingly calm, "Rescue Leo first." 5 "Are you insane?" Veronica’s voice was trembling. "Johnny is already crippled! He loves himself so much, and you want him to lose his legs? Do you want him to die?" "Veronica, I know you love Johnny, but don’t forget, five years ago, during that fire, who rescued us from the blaze? If it weren’t for Leo, risking his life to save us, you and I would be dead!" Johnny’s eyes widened in the debris. Five years ago, it had been him who had desperately dragged them out of that fire! But they had mistaken it for Leo? So… this was the reason for their favoritism towards Leo?! Finally, after much heated argument, the two women reached an agreement. "Rescue Leo first!" Johnny lay in the darkness, his eyes wide open, watching the searchlight beams of the rescue team gradually recede. Their retreating figures, cradling Leo, were so hasty they didn’t even glance back at the wreckage. When the aftershock struck, the ceiling collapsed with a thunderous roar, and his last shred of consciousness, too, was utterly extinguished. Johnny opened his eyes in agonizing pain, the glaring white fluorescent lights on the ceiling stinging them with tears. He instinctively reached for his legs— Thank goodness, they were still there. "Half an hour later, and you would have lost those legs." The nurse said, changing his dressing. "Mr. Blackwood, you’re incredibly lucky to be alive." Johnny stared at the pristine white ceiling, a smile stretching his lips that was more grotesque than a sob. Lucky? He wished he had died in that earthquake. The ward door was suddenly flung open, and Sarah and Veronica burst in, looking disheveled, their faces etched with a carefully crafted "concern." "Johnny!" Sarah grabbed his hand. "It was so chaotic then, we didn’t see you…" Veronica knelt by the bed, delicately stroking his plaster-casted leg. "Johnny, I’m so sorry. Next time, I absolutely won’t let you out of my sight." Johnny slowly withdrew his hand, his eyes hollow like stagnant water. He didn't want to hear these clumsy lies, not a single word. "Johnny?" Veronica finally sensed something was wrong, and her voice began to tremble. "Will you say something, please?" Silence. For three whole days, Johnny remained like an exquisite puppet, neither crying nor laughing, nor speaking. Sarah finally panicked and forcibly took him for a full body check-up. "Physical indicators are basically normal," the doctor pushed up his glasses. "I suggest a consultation with the psychology department." After the door to the psychology clinic closed, Sarah irritably exclaimed, "Is it really that serious? To actually need a psychologist!" Veronica slammed her fist against the wall, blood seeping from her knuckles. "Small matter? He’s crippled, can no longer pursue his passion, and has to live with a catheter for life! Do you think that’s a small matter? A perfectly healthy person, driven to this by us…" She gripped Sarah’s collar, her eyes red. "Sarah Blackwood, Johnny is the man I’ve loved for half my life! That was the last time I listened to you. Even if Leo saved me, my debt to him is paid. From now on, I will never listen to you if it means hurting Johnny!" "He’s my brother!" Sarah roared. "Do you think I want to treat him like this? It’s all for Leo!" She slumped, releasing her grip. "Fine, fine. Anyway, Leo’s got his championship, and Johnny won’t stand in his way anymore. From now on, we’ll just be good to him."
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