I Regret The Kindness I Gave You (20 Chapters Left to Complete) - Chapter 9
Merche Ashtad.
The only person the woman before him should rightly call “older sister” was the owner of that name—yet something about confirming it as fact felt profoundly dubious.
No, wasn’t it obvious? Just look at her appearance.
The woman struggling to rise from the wooden floor before him didn’t resemble Merche in the slightest.
Not Merche’s delicate, radiant golden hair—just slightly wavy—
nor those blue eyes that always left him breathless at a glance, nor even the overall shape of her facial features. Everything was utterly different.
In no way did this woman’s appearance resemble Merche’s.
If anything, she resembled him more than Merche.
For instance, those ashen eyes, sunk deep and dull as if all color had faded away—
eyes so unpleasant they instantly evoked hazy, troubled memories of his past.
The woman with those eyes staggered forward until she stood right before Lud.
Though blind, she stubbornly glared fixedly toward where Lud had spoken.
Adopting a surprisingly composed posture—as if all her earlier fear and trembling had never happened—she finally opened her mouth.
“You’re the one, aren’t you?”
“The one what?”
“The house has been so noisy lately. Someone kept throwing things and cursing all the time. That was all you, wasn’t it!”
“So what? I’m a patient.”
At his shamelessly bold reply, Christine let out an incredulous, hollow laugh.
“What did you say? Just because you’re a patient, you think you can cause chaos however you please?”
“Ugh, shut up. You’re deafening me, seriously…”
Lud raised his hand and deliberately mimed covering his ears.
Though she couldn’t see it, the mocking provocation unmistakably reached her.
Christine’s lips twitched again, ready to unleash another scolding—but this time, Lud was quicker.
“But is this house truly yours?”
“Of course it is! I’ve lived here since the beginning—it’s obviously my house!”
“You’re lying.”
His immediate, blunt contradiction made Christine’s voice tremble—not from fear, but sheer disbelief.
“What? Who do you think you are! What do you know to say such things?”
“This is Merche’s house. She’s filthy rich, right? You don’t look anything like that.”
“It’s my house! My father gave it to me!”
The moment Lud finished speaking, Christine shouted—almost screamed—in protest.
Her eyes were already glistening.
Whether from unjust frustration or anger at his unreasonable behavior, it was hard to tell—but she clearly reacted as if a sore spot had been jabbed.
Christine herself realized she’d overreacted.
She belatedly fell quiet and impatiently wiped at her eyes.
Finding her antics oddly amusing, Lud snorted, grinning crookedly.
“Your older sister is Merche Ashtad?”
Really? You don’t look alike at all.
His inner thoughts leaked plainly into his question.
Faced with his infuriatingly smug smile, Christine snapped back as if she wanted to spit at him.
“Yes, so what of it?”
“For a younger sister, you’re way too different. Don’t tell me you have different parents?”
“…I know I’m not as pretty as my sister. But don’t you think it’s excessively rude to say that right to someone’s face?”
“No, no.”
Lud waved a finger dismissively. Though sprawled lazily across the bed in a slovenly pose, there was a strange weight to his presence.
Unable to see him, Christine nonetheless shrank inwardly, her shoulders hunching.
“I meant your insides, not your shell. You’re a loud, bratty kid—nothing like Merche.”
“Wh-What did you say?!”
Her eyes sharpened again, as if she’d never been cowed in the first place.
Who was this intruder causing chaos in her own home?
No matter how she thought about it, fury boiled over.
Why had her sister brought such a lowlife into their house without even telling her?
She was even starting to feel quietly resentful toward her sister, whom she hadn’t seen in quite some time.
Just as she angrily bit her lip in frustration,
the door opened, and a familiar scent brushed past her nose.
Sister. It was her sister’s scent.
Before she could even process it, a hand had already reached her, gently stroking her cheek as always.
“Christine. What brought you down here? Where’s Stella?”
“…I came down by myself. How many times do I have to say I can get around fine without Stella?”
Stella was the maid hired to assist Christine, who was blind.
Blessed with knowledge surpassing most physicians—thanks to her doctor father—and meticulous to a fault, Stella was perfectly suited to care for the ever-complaining Christine.
As if I’ll die without her! I manage just fine on my own.
Annoyed that her sister always asked for Stella the moment she was alone, Christine sulked petulantly.
Her memory of just a few days ago—when she’d subtly shown hurt that her sister hadn’t visited often lately—had already grown hazy.
“Christine. Have you been crying?”
Ah! Only when Merche’s finger brushed her reddened eyes did Christine jolt and shove the hand away.
No wonder she’d lingered so long touching her face.
Her sister worried too much. Was she really going to treat her like a three-year-old forever?
If Christine so much as cried, Merche would probably scoop her up and start singing a lullaby—so Christine’s tone turned sharp automatically.
“No. I just yawned, and tears gathered. Don’t jump to ridiculous conclusions. Why would I cry?”
“Is that so? Since you yawned, you probably need more sleep. I’ll walk you back to your room. Come on, let’s go.”
“Forget it. If I go, I’ll go alone.”
Watching silently, Lud frowned at her cold attitude.
What an insufferable brat—annoying. Though admittedly, even more irritating was Merche’s sickeningly soft response.
If it were him, he’d have long since beaten this defiant little sister into submission. Merche was far too weak.
Did she think her sibling was made of sugar?
Even after being shoved away and rejected at every turn, Merche showed not a trace of displeasure toward Christine.
“Merche. If you keep pampering her like this, no wonder your sister turned out so spoiled. Don’t you, as her older sister, think you should scold her for once?”
Lud sat halfway up and clicked his tongue disapprovingly.
Predictably, a backlash followed.
Christine’s face flushed crimson as she glared furiously and raised her voice in outrage.
“Sister, who is that person? Why did you bring someone like him into my house? You didn’t even ask me!”
“I’m sorry, Christine. It’s my fault. I just… thought you’d stay upstairs, so you two wouldn’t cross paths.”
“This is my house! The inheritance my father gave me!”
“Christine.”
Worried by Christine’s uncontrollable outburst, Merche reached out gently,
trying to pat her shoulder and calm her fury.
But to someone blinded by rage, such warmth went entirely unseen.
“Let go! …You’re not even a real daughter anyway, sister!”
Thud!
The moment she shoved the hand away, she realized—
in her irritation, she’d sent Stella away and forgotten to trim her long nails, which had just raked across Merche’s pale cheek.
A fine, hairline scratch appeared, beading with tiny droplets of red.
It was at that exact moment Lud, who until then had merely watched and talked idly, bolted upright and rushed over.
“How dare you…”
The lazy, carefree man was gone—replaced by a terrifyingly intense presence.
Though blind to him, Christine instinctively gulped, her breath catching.
She was terrified. A chill ran down her spine, and she wanted nothing more than to collapse right there.
Her small frame stiffened completely before Lud’s towering form.
Fortunately for her, Merche quickly stepped between her and Lud, who now seemed like a ravenous beast.
“No. Please don’t, Lud.”
“She just keeps climbing over you. Are you insane? How can you just stand there smiling after letting that brat call you sister?”
“She’s precious to me. Please, Lud. I’m fine—just step back.”
Her hand, pale and frail compared to his, gripped his tightly clenched fist.
In that warm, gentle touch, the heat clouding his mind instantly cooled.
It was merely a thread—yet even a loosely tied thread had ensnared him before he could pull away.
Though Lud’s glare toward Christine remained menacing, he ultimately reined in his temper—for Merche’s sake.
“…If she’s not completely brainless, you should scold her properly. Not let her act like that.”
Damn it. Why was she so absurdly kind?
Swallowing a curse that nearly choked him, he stepped back—and Merche gave him a faint, gentle smile.
Because of that, Lud’s breath caught again, and the words he’d been about to say died in his throat.
Leaving him dumbfounded, Merche skillfully soothed her sister—
apologizing to the frightened Christine even though it wasn’t her fault, whispering reassurances that everything was alright, then gently guiding her back to her room as if cradling her.
She must have sung a lullaby, too—it was quite a while before she finally returned to Lud.
Lud eyed her with an expression of utter disbelief.
“Did you just put a newborn to sleep or something?”
“…What happened today was entirely my fault, with no excuse. I’m truly sorry for the trouble.”
She lowered her eyes calmly and recited her apology in one steady breath—clearly full of self-reproach to anyone who saw her.
What could he even say? Annoyance churned in his head, yet this needed to be addressed first.
His gaze fixed murderously on the reddish mark still visible on her face.
“That. What if it leaves a scar on a noble lady’s precious face?”
“It’s just a small cut. Even if it scars, I’ll simply cover it with powder.”
“Ha… What noble sisterly love. We’ve truly been blessed with a paragon of virtue.”
Should he clap? Lud twisted his lips into a savage grimace and flopped back onto the bed.
“I took that sleeping draught from that quack—Berk or Bark or whatever—and I’m going to sleep. Get out.”
He waved his hand twice in the air while lying down.
He didn’t want to talk anymore—clear enough even to a stranger.
Recognizing the signal, Merche said nothing more and fell silent.
But she didn’t leave immediately.
After standing still for a moment, she slowly, cautiously approached the head of his bed.
“…What.”
What did she want? Lud asked, half-opening one eye.
Merche didn’t reply right away—hesitating briefly before whispering,
her voice carrying that familiar, crisp fragrance.
“…I’m sorry.”
Don’t just vaguely throw out “I’m sorry”—explain what you’re sorry for!
He wanted to demand an answer—but before he could, the sleeping draught’s heavy weight pressed down on his consciousness.
Helpless, Lud closed his eyes without another word.
[This is the timeline separator]At dawn, when the air was sharp and cold, a letter flew into the quiet Lupinus Estate.
The plain envelope bore only two names, written clearly:
Sender: Greta Martin. Recipient: Elizabeth Lupinus.
Stamped with the seal of Mrs. Martin, once a respected maid of the estate, the letter reached Elizabeth without issue.
Even the usually composed Elizabeth couldn’t hide her delight at receiving a letter from an old friend—her first since Mrs. Martin’s retirement.
Yet it didn’t take long for her eager hands to freeze as if struck by lightning.
“…I’m sorry, Ellie. I secretly took your son away.”
That single sentence, coming after pages of heartfelt pleas and tearful confessions, shattered Elizabeth’s heart.
“…Perhaps by the grace of gods Nilam and Nisha, I recently learned where your son is. I wish to tell you the place—please go and find your lost child. This is my selfish atonement.”
The final paragraph gripped Elizabeth’s soul entirely.
With a strangled gasp, she collapsed—
yet her scream, sharp and chilling as a blade, rang out with terrifying clarity.
“Go—go find my child! Hurry, right now…!”
Turns Out He’s Been Secretly in Love with Me
One-line summary: He acts like he doesn’t like her but is actually playing hard to get.
Synopsis:
Xu Muzhou like her. He has liked her for a very long time, and through repeated schemes, he finally closed the distance with her.
But this is still far from enough.
He wants to be the one who stands out among her many suitors, to fight for her attention, and to make her take the initiative to pursue him.
_____
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