Love Me Just Once (Completed Main Story) - Chapter 8
Idren Sigrasil came to see her again. In one hand, he held a yellow flower.
At this time of year, when the petals were at their brightest yellow, the first thing that came to Ophelia’s mind—oddly enough—was eyes like summer leaves. It was only natural, since the only person who had ever brought flowers to her room was her late fiancé.
And ever since hope and her fiancé had died together, Ophelia had refused to look at flowers again. She had learned it was better never to possess things that wilted and broke so easily.
Even if the sentiment behind them was kind, her thoughts remained unchanged.
Ophelia set the yellow flower down on her dressing table as she spoke to her second fiancé.
“There’s no need to bring such things next time.”
“…Do you dislike flowers?”
“No.”
At that, the man stared at her with eyes as yellow as petals. Ophelia gestured toward the chair beside her bed and added,
“It’s simply troublesome to deal with.”
“Couldn’t you just leave it to a servant?”
Had he always been this talkative?
Sitting on the bed, Ophelia regarded him, who seemed unusually persistent today. He now sat in the chair before her.
She squeezed out the last drops of her dwindling patience and kindness to reply.
“No one else can accept what’s carried within them for you.”
Unable to refute that, the man fell silent.
Sunlight streamed in, illuminating his profile. Since the wooden planks covering the balcony had been removed the previous night, light filled the room brilliantly.
Ophelia tilted her head up slightly to meet his gaze. She noticed his slightly upturned eyes, pale skin, and tightly closed lips. As always, his face was perfectly composed.
Suddenly, she realized this was the first time she’d truly looked directly at his face. Until now, Idren and she had always maintained a proper distance.
Though the past few days had been chaotic enough to disrupt even that.
Remembering once more that she’d returned to the past, Ophelia sighed. Merely thinking about it exhausted and irritated her.
She leaned her head against the bedpost. As always, when her mind tired, her body lost the strength to hold itself up. Idren watched her intently.
Ophelia closed her eyes, regardless of whether he approved or not. Though impolite, she had never been a particularly courteous person.
Taking advantage of her closed eyes, Idren observed her face bathed in bright sunlight. Indeed, Ophelia looked better in this sunlit room than she had the day before.
It was then that Ophelia spoke.
“If you’ve come to discuss breaking the engagement, go see my father.”
At those words, Idren realized he shouldn’t be idly admiring her face. He hastily replied,
“It seems there’s been a misunderstanding. I didn’t come here to discuss breaking our engagement.”
What nonsense was this now?
Ophelia’s eyes snapped open. Idren Sigrasil looked perfectly sane, yet occasionally said the most absurd things—and this seemed to be one of those times.
What man in his right mind would want to marry a woman who’d just tried to leap from her balcony?
“Then why?”
Idren blinked, surprised by Ophelia’s unusually cooperative tone today. If she asked like that, he had no ready answer.
Of course, he’d done a great deal of thinking after hearing what she’d said two days ago.
But that hadn’t led him to conclude he shouldn’t marry her.
He still intended to wed Ophelia. Knowing now how dissatisfied she’d been with their engagement, he planned to accommodate her concerns.
His reason for insisting on claiming the place beside her was simple.
Whoever became her groom, Ophelia had to marry.
So wouldn’t it be better if he took that place himself?
The words felt a bit embarrassing to utter aloud, so Idren lowered his eyes and replied in a quieter tone,
“You’ll have to marry anyway, won’t you?”
“Me?”
Hah. Ophelia scoffed, as if utterly dumbfounded. His assumption seemed completely off the mark.
But he did have his reasons for thinking so. Feeling unjustly misunderstood, Idren slightly furrowed his brow.
As if reading his thoughts, Ophelia asked,
“Why do you think that?”
“Well… your family….”
Idren hesitated briefly, unsure how best to phrase it.
He still didn’t know the full truth behind the incident—because the one who could explain it, Ophelia, had died.
But there was one certainty amidst the uncertainty. After a moment’s hesitation, he said,
“You have your reasons, don’t you?”
[This is the timeline separator]Right after Ophelia’s funeral, Idren received a letter from King Reden—technically, it had arrived before the funeral, but he’d only opened it afterward.
The letter pleaded for help, stating Reden’s situation had grown dire.
In the past, whenever such letters came from his in-laws, Idren had habitually sent aid without mentioning it to Ophelia—so he nearly replied the same way now.
But just as he was about to stamp his seal on the letter, a strange thought struck him.
Surely, news of Ophelia’s death would have reached Reden by now.
Then why hadn’t they sent any response?
One suspicion led to another, so Idren ordered Salode, his financial advisor, to investigate Reden’s circumstances—specifically, how their national debt had reached such a critical state.
Before Salode could complete his investigation, however, treasures from the Mebasa royal family arrived at Sigrasil Castle.
Sent in Ophelia’s name, Reden’s national treasures were so numerous they seemed as if someone had dismantled the entire royal palace. Chest after chest piled up in Sigrasil’s great hall until they nearly touched the ceiling.
The financial advisor who’d brought everything claimed it was her inheritance. Naturally, Idren couldn’t understand—until the man, whom Ophelia had apparently hired privately, clarified:
“All of it was seized from the Mebasa royal family of Reden.”
In other words, Ophelia had essentially engaged in financial speculation against her own homeland.
Upon hearing this, Idren immediately redirected Salode’s investigation.
Less than a day after giving that order, another death notice arrived—also from Reden—and the name written inside was one he recognized well.
Mahanas Mebasa.
The prince had apparently been dead for quite some time; the news had simply been delayed due to unforeseen circumstances.
“They said commoners started a brawl in a tavern and beat the prince to death. Terrified, they hid his body.”
When Salode, who was investigating Reden, delivered this news, Idren pinched the bridge of his nose. It baffled him how anyone could get involved in something so reckless.
But that wasn’t the only troubling news.
Just two days after hearing of Prince Mahanas’s death, Idren received urgent word that Reden had collapsed—due to simultaneous uprisings.
The kingdom had been seized by rebels, and King Dares of Reden sent Idren a request for asylum. Yet Idren couldn’t reply—he couldn’t locate the king’s whereabouts.
Before he could even search for the missing monarch, he had to deal with the flood of Reden refugees pouring into Aglante.
Among those refugees, some spread malicious rumors about Ophelia, claiming she’d caused the entire catastrophe.
Idren executed most of them. He’d always taken a hard stance against anything that might tarnish Ophelia’s reputation.
He spared a few solely for interrogation—it seemed faster than formal investigations, given how rapidly events were unfolding.
To resolve matters as quickly as possible, Idren dragged one of Reden’s officials to the execution grounds.
“It’s all Her Royal Highness the Grand Duchess’s fault.”
The official, trembling after watching several people beheaded before his eyes, stammered out those words.
“Her Royal Highness the Grand Duchess ruined Reden.”
Resentment dripped from his voice.
Idren wondered how this fallen kingdom’s official dared display such emotion toward him—who did he think Idren was married to? But for now, he didn’t snap the man’s neck.
Stammering, the official spilled what he believed to be the truth behind the disaster.
“A speculative frenzy swept through Reden a few years ago.”
Perhaps because he’d been promised he’d keep his head if he spoke clearly, his story flowed smoothly.
“It started with minerals. Reden had mines everywhere that produced minerals. Though the minerals could yield pigment, the mines had been abandoned as unprofitable.”
Then, the official said, Ophelia had invested in those mines. She’d extracted red pigment from the minerals and bought it at high prices.
Naturally, the mine owners who traded with her made enormous profits—and bragged about their unexpected fortune far and wide.
“It was just as everyone began envying those mine owners that Her Royal Highness the Grand Duchess started buying even more pigment.”
In fact, she’d apparently paid even more than in her first transaction.
“Everyone—royalty included—rushed to invest in the mines. Since those mineral-rich mines existed only in Reden, the kingdom’s economy suddenly seemed to soar.”
When the official reached that point, Idren recalled the red trend Ophelia had briefly popularized years ago.
Red hadn’t been a common color in Aglante.
But after Ophelia wore red during an inspection tour—something he’d suggested to help maintain her reputation—red had become fashionable across Aglante.
Because Ophelia, cloaked in that deep, blood-red hue, had been beautiful enough to enchant anyone who saw her.
Male lead Asks for a Divorce Every Day
It’s not often you come across a plot like this in the female-dominant genre — make sure to check it out!
This is a novel I’m planning to reread as well.
The male lead is strong, skilled in martial arts, and not the usual fragile type you often see in matriarchal novels.
Meanwhile, the female lead is a scientist—rational and logical. Even when she falls for the male lead, she doesn’t let her emotions cloud her decisions.
If you push through the first few chapters, you’ll gradually find the story really intriguing.
It has a mix of mystery, detective elements, and romance.
The author’s writing style is like crafting a puzzle—except they deliberately leave out a few pieces, making it hard to predict what happens next, yet keeping you hooked.
In the end, everything will come together and be explained.
One-sentence summary: Wife, stop playing with beakers and look at me!
In a laboratory accident, research scientist Zhu Wansheng accidentally travels to a matriarchal world. The original owner of the body is an eighteen-year-old only daughter of a wealthy rouge merchant, already married with a handsome young man.
Zhu Wansheng grins: Nice! She always said she was heaven’s favorite granddaughter. After a life of toil in her previous life, she can enjoy blessings in this one.
However, her joy lasts no more than three seconds as bad news arrives: the original owner’s family is about to go bankrupt, and her husband wants a divorce.
Even worse, she’s stuck with a research system full of restrictions.
Zhu Wansheng: ? Is this the destiny of a research dog?
——
Faced with this mess, Zhu Wansheng pours herself a bowl of wine to drown her sorrows. In her drunken haze, her husband arrives.
His figure is imposing, holding a long sword, with a dignified air that captivates Zhu Wansheng.
Gu Yingqing, however, looks at the alcohol-reeking Zhu Wansheng with undisguised disgust and coldly asks, “Divorce or not?” The intoxicated Zhu Wansheng mumbles vaguely, “I think… it’s not… it’s not… impossible!”
——
The next day, after sobering up, Zhu Wansheng is full of energy, rolling up her sleeves ready to make a big move. As for yesterday? She has no memory of it.
Zhu Wansheng is ambitious; a research dog fears nothing!
Upgrading rouge, extracting fragrances, producing perfumes, researching lipsticks… all shall bow to the power of modern technology!
The original owner’s dying rouge shop is revitalized. Her mother is pleased and with a wave of her hand, passes on the family business to her. As she takes control and her experimental results gain popularity, it’s the pinnacle of her life…
——
But there are always those who can’t stand to see her doing well. Jealousy, scheming, assassination attempts – they want nothing less than her life.
The person who has always kept his distance from her suddenly holds her tightly in his arms, eyes full of concern.
She is unharmed, but he falls into a pool of blood…
Zhu Wansheng feels guilty, “I can grant you one wish.”
Gu Yingqing tentatively circles his arms around her, carefully resting his head in the crook of her neck, pleading softly, “I regret it. Can we not divorce?”
Zhu Wansheng: ? When did I agree to a divorce?
[Small Theater]
The newly developed rouge is beautifully packaged, and Zhu Wansheng is eager to try it.
Gu Yingqing suddenly appears: “My lady, may I apply it for you?”
Cool fingertips lightly brush her lips. His Adam’s apple bobs as he leans in for a light bite.
Zhu Wansheng: ?
Gu Yingqing: It smells so good, I wanted to taste it…
On a warm spring day, Zhu Wansheng tries a new perfume: “Spring Night.” Gu Yingqing corners her against a wall.
Warm breath lingers on her neck.
“My lady, from now on, may I test the fragrances for you?”
[Humorous female scientist vs scheming live-in son-in-law male lead]
[Touch the gear icon in the bottom right corner of the screen to move to the next chapter if you want.]
Cowardice? Bitch you barely even look at him or speak to him 😦😡
Finally! Put her in her place!!! She should treat you better 😡😡😡
That caught him by surprise 😭🥺🤣 that he almost choked