How to Divorce a Obsessive Emperor Safely (Completed Main Story) - Chapter 1
—Please…
The woman sobbed.
A knife was plunged into her chest. Cold, congealed blood trickled down the blade, forming a dark crimson pool on the floor.
Thud. Thud…
Someone approached the fallen woman.
She already knew who it was. When she looked up, her eyes burned as if meeting the sun itself.
Those eyes were golden—too radiant for any mortal to gaze upon directly.
Wincing in searing pain, the woman let out a weak whimper.
—Please… Save me. Don’t let me die like this.
Her delicate voice was heart-wrenching, brimming with such raw emotion it felt as though it could melt one’s eardrums.
Her slender wrist trembled like a flower stem as she clutched the hem of the man’s garment before her.
—Don’t turn away from me. I am your fate. You just don’t realize it yet.
Her desperate plea reached no part of him.
The man merely stared at her—knife still embedded in her chest, blood still flowing—with eyes utterly devoid of emotion.
—No. Fate couldn’t possibly be something so trivial. You are not my fate.
His words were cruel.
At last, the woman understood.
He had never loved her—not even once.
Even if she died right before his eyes, his heart would never change.
—If that’s all you have to say…
The man turned sharply on his heel and walked away.
His retreating back was cruel. His unchanging indifference, his refusal to look back—both were cruel.
The man had been cruel from beginning to end.
The woman staggered to her feet, her body trembling violently as she squeezed out her last ounce of strength.
—This can’t… be happening.
Disbelief drained the life from her face. With a countenance as dark as a corpse’s, she spat out her despair.
—You must love me… That’s our fate.
Having spoken, the woman closed her eyes and collapsed.
Her abandoned confession remained as a stain upon her pale face, mingling with the foul stench of blood.
[This is the timeline separator]“Ah…!”
The dream ended there.
Lasilia opened her eyes, mouth agape, releasing a silent groan.
“Lady Lasilia? Are you alright?”
Flota asked from beside her.
Lasilia was currently traveling by carriage, accompanied only by her dream attendant. She had closed her eyes briefly after boarding—and apparently, she’d fallen into a dream during that time.
“Mm… I’m fine.”
Lasilia blinked, her eyelashes damp with cold sweat.
The dream had been far too vivid; reality still hadn’t fully settled into her vision. Half her consciousness still seemed trapped within the dream.
Even now, what she saw wasn’t Flota, her dream attendant, gazing at her with concern—but those chillingly indifferent golden eyes.
Those golden eyes felt like a blade piercing her chest, and Lasilia clenched her teeth.
“Did you perhaps have a dream?”
Lasilia was the prophetess of the Delarta Kingdom.
Through Lasilia’s dreams, the gods revealed the future. Her dreams, once attested by her dream attendants and sealed upon the altar, became the divine word.
“I did dream… but it doesn’t seem like a prophecy.”
The divine word was always clear—it showed what was to come, allowing one to prepare.
A dream filled with faceless strangers discussing matters utterly unrelated to the Delarta Kingdom could never be a prophecy.
“Even Lady Lasilia has dreams that aren’t prophecies?”
“Apparently so. But how far have we come? Are we still far?”
Lasilia forced down her anxiety and looked out the window.
Before dreaming that strange dream of the golden-eyed man, Lasilia had witnessed a horrifying prophecy—one that could overturn the entire Delarta Kingdom.
She had seen Prince Ricardo, the Twelfth Royal Prince, behead the king.
The moment she woke, Lasilia sealed the dream upon the altar and immediately sent word to the king.
Flota was the only witness. The prophecy was too dangerous; Lasilia had spoken of it to no one else. The Grand Temple where she resided as prophetess was filled with Prince Ricardo’s people. She trusted no one.
Yet despite her urgent message, the royal court sent no reply. In the end, Lasilia decided to go see the king herself.
It was exceedingly rare for a prophetess to leave the Grand Temple of her own accord. Lasilia kept this journey utterly secret, slipping away without even the priests’ knowledge. Only Flota—who had been her dream attendant and friend since childhood—and the temple coachman knew of her whereabouts.
“Lady Lasilia, have you never once wanted to look into a mirror?”
Flota suddenly asked an oddly random question.
“What…?”
Lasilia, who had been gazing out at the dark forest path through the window, turned to face Flota.
“Why ask something like that?”
Flota met Lasilia’s gaze without flinching.
Unlike her usual upright posture, today Flota sat with her toes lifted, twisting a strand of hair around her index finger—an unfamiliar sight.
“I’ve always wondered… How could someone not be curious about their own appearance? Even a prophetess is still human—and a woman.”
“Looking in a mirror has nothing to do with prophecy. Besides, you’ve always helped me with such things.”
“Yes, I have. And that’s exactly why I hated it so much. If your beauty is so worthless to you, why not just give it to me?”
“…Why are you saying this, Flota?”
Flota gave a faint smile—cold, or perhaps ominous.
“So you’ll know. That way, when you die, you’ll feel a little less wronged.”
“When I… die?”
What on earth was Flota talking about?
Lasilia, raised as a prophetess in the temple since early childhood, had neither family nor friends. Flota had filled all those roles for her.
That was why she couldn’t understand Flota’s words now. The Flota wearing that unfamiliar expression didn’t seem like the Flota she’d always known.
“Flota, what’s wrong with you? Are you angry with me? Did I do something wrong?”
Flota let out a sharp, mocking laugh.
“Oh, you’ve done plenty wrong. Starting with the fact that you’re the prophetess, and I’m just a worthless dream attendant. ‘Dream attendant’—what a joke. I’m no different from a servant. And you’ve never once considered properly using the power your position grants you, have you?”
In the next instant, all traces of laughter vanished from Flota’s face.
“I wanted all of it desperately. Everything you possess, Lasilia.”
“Flota…”
Lasilia didn’t know what to say. Learning Flota’s true feelings for the first time was unbearably painful.
Just as Lasilia bit her lip—
Eeheeheeheeng!
Clunk! Thud!
The carriage suddenly jolted to a stop, nearly throwing Lasilia forward.
“Oh, we must have arrived.”
Flota’s expression shifted instantly, her face brightening with delight.
Then the carriage door burst open.
“What…!”
Lasilia’s face turned deathly pale.
The one who opened the door was none other than Prince Ricardo.
“You arrived right on time, Your Highness.”
Flota greeted him with a cheerful, beaming smile.
A truth Lasilia desperately refused to accept struck her like a blow.
“Flota… surely you didn’t…?”
Flota had betrayed her. She had revealed the secret route Lasilia was taking to reach the royal palace—unknown to anyone—and told Prince Ricardo. Undoubtedly, she’d also disclosed the prophecy’s contents.
“I told you, didn’t I? So you’d feel a little less wronged when you die. It’s better than dying completely unaware, isn’t it?”
Prince Ricardo stepped forward and seized Lasilia’s jaw.
“Well, well—so we meet at last. Delarta’s beautiful prophetess.”
His grip was crushing; her jawbone felt like it might shatter.
“Take… your hand off. I am the eyes and mouth of the gods.”
Lasilia spoke through her pain.
“Oh? That god of yours doesn’t seem particularly kind to me.”
Prince Ricardo gave a grotesque smile.
In that moment, Flota and Prince Ricardo—utterly unlike in appearance—looked eerily like twins.
“You saw me beheading my elder brother, didn’t you? And now you’re rushing off to warn him. But once he knows… what do you think he’ll do? Surely he’ll cut off my head first, won’t he?”
“That means the gods are protecting the Delarta Kingdom… Urk—”
Prince Ricardo tightened his grip around her throat, cutting off her breath.
“Listen carefully, lovely prophetess. You decide right here and now—live or die. If you wish to live, return quietly to your temple and seal your lips. Forever. I’ll fulfill the prophecy, behead my brother, and become king. Then I’ll pull you out of that haunted den. If that half-ruined face of yours proves useful, I might even take you as a concubine.”
Through her fading, suffocating vision, Lasilia saw Flota’s face contorted in anguish.
“It’s pointless, Your Highness. Lady Lasilia is far too stubborn—she lacks the flexibility to do something like that.”
Prince Ricardo ignored Flota’s words.
“Or you die here. Well? What’ll it be?”
“…I…”
Lasilia desperately tried to think.
She had to escape this place. She had to warn the king of the prince’s treason.
But how?
‘I’ll have to lie for now. Pretend to cooperate, then find a chance to… somehow…’
Sadly, there was no other way to save herself here. Flota had betrayed her, and the temple coachman’s continued silence suggested he’d either been killed by knights the prince brought—or was in league with Flota all along.
“…I don’t want to die.”
Hearing Lasilia’s labored words, Prince Ricardo laughed.
“So you don’t fancy dying an old maid after all. Good. Then…”
At that moment—
“It’s a lie.”
Flota’s voice rang out—and suddenly, Lasilia felt a sharp sting in her side.
“What are you doing!”
Prince Ricardo shouted.
He realized Flota had stabbed him.
“…Ghk!”
Burning pain surged through him.
Perhaps it was because he’d just seen a woman stabbed in his dream—the boundary between dream and reality seemed to blur.
“Don’t be fooled, Your Highness. I know Lady Lasilia better than anyone. She would never cooperate with you. It’s safest to kill her as originally planned.”
Thwack!
Another wave of excruciating pain shot through the wound.
Flota twisted the deeply embedded knife once more—determined to end his life for certain.
“Flo… ta… You… you…”
Lasilia reached out unsteadily with her hand. But Flota only stared at her with cold, detached eyes. In those eyes, Lasilia was already as good as dead.
“Damn it! There’s nothing to be done now. She can’t possibly be saved.”
Prince Ricardo pulled the knife from Lasilia’s body as she slumped sideways.
Sploosh!
Blood poured out uncontrollably.
“Get down.”
Prince Ricardo grabbed Flota’s elbow and shoved her toward the carriage door.
As Flota stepped down after him, she glanced back once at Lasilia, bleeding on the floor.
“Farewell, Lady Lasilia. May we never see each other again.”
“Flo… ta…”
Thud.
Once the prince had also disembarked, the carriage door closed.
Bang! Bang!
The prince rapped on the carriage and issued orders to his knights.
“Take this and drive it off the cliff. Throw the coachman’s body in too. If it’s ever found, make it look like an accident.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
No… I can’t… I have to get up… I must escape… and warn the king of the treason…
Lasilia squeezed out every last drop of strength she had. But all she could manage was a faint twitch of her fingers.
Rumble… crash!
Moments later, the carriage carrying Lasilia and the coachman’s corpses tumbled down the sheer cliff.
[This is the timeline separator]—They’ve finally arrived.
—Mm-hmm. They’re here. They’re here.
—Then… do we start… now?
The surroundings were noisy.
Her eyelids reacted first to the clamor filling her ears. Lasilia opened her blurry eyes.
The first thing she saw was brilliant light.
“…?”
It was far too bright. Her room had never been this luminous—not even once.
Am I dreaming?
…No, I must be dead. It seems I’ve come to the realm of the gods.
Even with her eyes open, the scenery around her felt unreal, so she looked around once more.
Finally, her gaze turned to the window. Perched side by side on the ornate, gilded windowsill—more lavish than any she’d seen before—were unfamiliar birds, all staring right at her.
Kraaak!
Piuwoot piuwoot. Chirp chirp.
“…? Did you just speak to me?”
It was strange. The birds were clearly chirping, yet to her ears, it sounded exactly like human speech.
“Who is it that’s arrived?”
Just then—
“Your Majesty, the Empress. Did you cough?”
“…?”
Lasilia tilted her head in confusion.
Who’s this ‘Empress’ they’re talking about?
When male lead is the homewrecker
“I know she doesn’t love him.”
I’ve read the novel below twice already. Girls, I’m highly recommending it to you!
The female lead? Not a good person.
The second male lead? Not a good person.
The male lead? Willingly plays the third party, breaking up the female and second male lead’s relationship despite all the warnings from his friends—so yeah, he’s definitely not a good person either.
Basically, nobody in this novel is simple-minded or without scheming.
The female lead starts off as the male lead’s secretary, but don’t worry—later on, she takes over the company while the male lead steps back to support her. He won’t steal her spotlight, overshadow her, or dull her shine.
I love novels where men are out here snatching wigs, tearing each other down, and going to war just to win the female lead’s affection. And this is exactly that kind of novel. Most of Hai Dai Ran’s works have this dynamic. You’ll see the male characters’ emotions being pushed to the absolute extreme.
There’s even a scene where the second male lead exposes the male lead online for being a homewrecker. The brotherhood immediately gangs up on him, dragging him through the mud. I find it compelling —it completely flips reality on its head, where usually, women are the ones fighting over a man and getting torn apart by the sisterhood.
For me, female leads in the novels I read should only struggle in their careers, not in love. But if the brainless romantics in the story are all men? I have zero complaints.
I’ve pretty much read all of Hai Dai Ran’s novels and even translated all of them—her works are just my thing. I’ll slowly upload everything here. One day, when my website is official, I hope I can invite her to join as one of the star authors.
Here’s the story synopsis:
One-line summary: She is his lifelong obsession, to the point where he was willing to be a third wheel, scorned by society, just to wedge his way into her relationship with her fiancé.
Cold-hearted and indifferent female lead + Scheming and subservient CEO male lead
Intro 1:
“I know she doesn’t love him.”
With blood trickling from his clenched fist, Rong Xiu gazed at the woman before him, his eyes clouded with anguish. Hidden in the wardrobe, he had witnessed Fan Xia – the woman he desperately loved – in an intimate embrace with her fiancé. Yet his heart still yearned for her, defying all reason.
Fan Xia, the elegant and composed assistant, carried something mysterious in her eyes whenever she looked at her fiancé, Wen Lan Sheng. Strange occurrences began to surface – secret meetings with the young Gu Jin Yi, an unexplained withdrawal of 5,000 yuan… Then suddenly, her fiancé’s sister, Wen Jing, violently attacked her.
In this matriarchal society, Rong Xiu had risen to become the chairman of a powerful healthcare conglomerate, breaking through gender prejudices. But for the first time, he willingly stepped into the shadows as the other man, disregarding his friends’ warnings to become her secret lover.
Because he had discovered the truth – Fan Xia wasn’t the pure angel everyone believed her to be. And perhaps, he was the only one capable of helping her execute her mysterious plan…
Intro 2:
Rong Xiu’s biggest regret in life was missing out on Fan Xia.
He secretly loved Fan Xia for 7 years.
Watched her go public with her boyfriend.
Watched her kiss her boyfriend at their wedding.
Until that man blissfully nestled in Fan Xia’s arms, obtaining everything he could only dream of.
The crazy jealousy stripped away his hidden secret love, layer by layer, burning like wildfire.
Fan Xia, how can I have you!
【Reading and Trigger Warning Guide】
1. Female dominant, male submissive, male pregnancy
2. Male lead schemes his way to the top, male competition
_____
Please help me, I want to bring you the best possible things.
If you find any chapter or novel with poor translation and editing quality, let me know by commenting directly under that novel or chapter. I will retranslate it as soon as possible.
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MANGA DISCUSSION
2 Comments
Chapter Comments (15)
I loved this episode. I love Reskal—the guy doesn’t hold back and does whatever he wants, even barging in without waiting for the go-ahead, hahaha. The knights are still great. I love how completely bewildered they are when he hugs Cartagena, and even he doesn’t know why—he just felt different.
She, for a prophet who claims to be calm, reacted quite differently, hahaha. I can just imagine what dinner with the two of them will be like, because I doubt he’ll hold back from saying or doing something.
The relationship with Ternaden looks really strange. I mean, the way he behaves around her is so suspicious.
And now I’m even more convinced that Lasilia simply saw Cartagena die because of the ritual, and that’s why she possessed the body and brought back the mark Cartagena used to have, because she is his fated match.I love Reskal. He’s totally in ‘I saw my chance and I took it’ mode hahahahaha, and since Lasilia is still playing her memory loss card, she can’t question anything he says. I love this man.
Even so, the whole Delarta thing still bothers me. I don’t understand why she’s in such a rush to go there because she’s no longer a prophetess; she’s not Lasilia, she’s Cartagena. Even if she knows the truth, she won’t be able to do anything because she’ll be in the exact same position as she is as Empress—who is going to believe her?
Inline Comments (78)
Until her betrayal, Flota had been the closest person to Lasilia in this world.
Love? I wonder how that wicked she-devil hid her malice.
“Saint Malik’s knights…?”
His full name is Malik Mahmoud😑 How many times do Koreans portray Arab characters as sorcerers and charlatans? 😮💨🤨
“Doesn’t it seem too uncanny to be mere coincidence? What if that crow brought t
This girl deserves applause and the title of investigator. Why did she even become a knight?
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Rahzel Everlasting
I’ve wanted to read this novel for a long time. I saw the beautiful illustrations. I love the beginning—it looks promising.
Guiii Fguuu
This is the strangest novel opening I’ve ever read, and the one with the most shocks in a single chapter🥲