My Husband Has Changed (Completed Main Story) - Chapter 10
“A way to escape?”
“It’s an escape route prepared by the Duke himself.”
Greta whispered, tense as if afraid someone might overhear. She had hunched her neck deep into her shoulders, but at the distant sound of footsteps, she jerked her head up in fright. Adel stared at her, utterly dumbfounded.
“The Duke… You mean Sir Oscar, right now?”
“Yes. He promised to help us. He said he’ll secretly prepare a carriage for us a week from tonight.”
“Greta!”
At the sharpness in Adel’s voice, Greta turned deathly pale. She quickly pressed her hand over Adel’s lips, repeatedly hushing her. Adel barely managed to suppress her dismay.
“Knowing how much I distrust him… how could you even consider joining hands with that man?”
“That doesn’t matter now. Please, my lady—getting you out of here as soon as possible is far more urgent.”
“…….”
“I’ll use anyone if it means pulling you out of this mire. Anyway, once we leave Ansgar, we’ll never see him again.”
“…….”
“The carriage he prepares will take us to the borders of Bitzleben. I’ve saved up some travel money, so from there, we can hire a hired carriage.”
“A hired carriage….”
Adel let out a stifled breath. Greta’s anxious, impatient demeanor was one thing—but even upon calm consideration, the plan itself was flimsy.
Two sheltered noblewomen fleeing without any escort? With bandits and monsters lurking everywhere? It was like leaping off a cliff just to avoid a carriage.
Yet Greta’s desperation carried an undeniable force. Adel asked, almost resignedly,
“Alright. Suppose we do leave. Even if we succeed—just where do you intend for us to stay?”
“Go to the Grand Cathedral in Pragma or Falkenheim. There’s nowhere else. Even ‘that thing’ won’t dare follow you there.”
“…Surely, Greta—you still believe the Grand Duke is the Dragon of Bitzleben…?”
“Shh, shh!”
Adel’s mouth was roughly clamped shut once more. She could distinctly taste the saltiness from the old maid’s thick palm. Greta, nose wrinkled in worry, urged her,
“If you speak that name, it’ll surely awaken. Right now it’s too occupied with recovery to stir easily—but you must always be cautious. Never utter that word, not even when you’re alone.”
“…….”
“Do you understand?”
Adel barely managed a nod. As soon as Greta released her mouth, she finally voiced her complaint.
“But why suddenly the Grand Cathedral?”
“Contact Archpriest Padre of the Falkenheim diocese. No matter how I think about it, Bitzleben is too dangerous. We must leave this region entirely. Besides, he’s Johan’s—no, Her Highness’s godfather… He’ll take us in.”
In moments of panic, Greta would call her not by the title “Her Highness” but by “Laura.” Adel could only guess that must have been her mother’s name.
Just as Greta knew her, Adel knew Greta—the habits, the little quirks, the way she moved, spoke, and thought…
Decades had passed, forging that bond. The debt Adel felt for Greta’s long-suffering sacrifices ran so deep that even this absurd tale compelled her to listen.
“I understand your concern, but I can’t just run off without any preparation.”
“My lady, please.”
“Find another escape route instead. Then I’ll consider it. Even you know Sir Oscar isn’t the type to help us willingly, don’t you?”
“…….”
“If only there were a truly safe path…”
Just then, footsteps sounded close by—not from the distant corridor, the stairs guarded by knights, or beyond the window—but right on the other side of the very door where they stood. Both women’s faces instantly blanched.
“…….”
“…….”
After a brief silence, Adel was the first to regain her senses. She urgently shoved Greta toward the stairs.
“Go, Greta. We’ll talk more later.”
[This is the timeline separator]Greta exhaled a restless breath. It was a night weighed down by growing worry. The days when she’d thought she’d never grow old were long gone—now it felt as if she only awaited death…
She tossed fitfully on the hard bed. Her mind was too tangled for sleep to come easily. Staring at the dark ceiling, she was, as always, abruptly cast back into that memory.
That day. The night they’d first fled the temple like fugitives, with drizzling rain falling softly.
Adelheid. Her innocent young lady would never know what kind of woman her mother had been—where she’d lived as a child, how she’d drifted southward, and how she’d ultimately fallen into the filthy hands of Count Reichenau…
Now only three people knew the truth of that day: Count Reichenau, Greta, and the priest who’d aided their escape.
“What on earth am I supposed to do here now, Laura?”
The prophecy she’d once heard from those delicate lips had faded and grown faint with passing years. Now, Greta remembered only one sentence:
“The corrupt shall covet it, yet in the end, it shall become whole.”
It was because of that prophecy that Count Reichenau couldn’t let Adelheid go past fifteen—clinging to the deluded belief that if Bitzleben’s blood became “complete,” it would birth the world’s most powerful Healer.
Greta let out a deep sigh.
“Would it have been better if there’d been no prophecy at all?”
To protect Adel, Greta had surrendered and endured so much—only for that child’s sake. Yet a catastrophe like this one would have been difficult to prepare for, even over a lifetime. Perhaps it was because the past few years had been deceptively peaceful.
“I’ll go to the temple first thing after waking—bring back holy water, receive blessings…”
Greta squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself to sleep. Dawn was already drawing near. If she didn’t rest now, she’d be exhausted all day tomorrow. Her breathing, irregular at first, gradually settled into a steady rhythm.
At that very moment, the chickens, which had been crowing ceaselessly without regard for time, fell briefly silent.
Creak.
Greta’s eyes snapped open. Even before her mind caught up, a cold shiver ran down her spine. That was the sound of the lock she’d firmly secured turning. And there was only one key—always kept on her person.
“Then who on earth…?”
The thought had barely formed when a mocking ripple stirred within her chest—was she really asking? Didn’t her instincts already know?
Click.
Soon the lock fully disengaged, and the door slowly opened. Her heart pounded wildly; her breath caught instantly. Greta barely swallowed back a scream, twisting under the covers as if in sleep and muffling her mouth with her pillow.
Creak… creak…
She heard footsteps approaching across the old floorboards. Peering through half-closed eyes, the shadow appeared to belong to a large man—not shaped like the rumored dragon, nor moving as if alive on its own.
As if it still had reason to remain human… for now.
The moment ‘it’ stopped beside her bed, Greta squeezed her eyes shut tightly.
“…….”
She could feel ‘it’ staring down at her, even with her eyes closed—the gaze burning into her. She deliberately rolled over, feigning sleep, but couldn’t control her quickening breath.
She sensed ‘it’ bending closer—so near they nearly touched—yet strangely, not even a whisper of breath could be heard. Only Greta’s own gasping filled the silence.
“…….”
It felt as if ‘it’ smiled faintly against Greta’s wrinkled cheek—like a chorus of thousands layered into one voice, or a single scream, or perhaps just the biting north wind howling through…
‘It’ already seemed to know everything—their crude plan, Greta’s fear, and that she wasn’t truly asleep.
She would die. At that chilling certainty, her lips and fingertips trembled violently.
Unable to bear it, she cracked her eyes open—
“…!”
—and met glowing golden eyes staring straight back from the darkness. Those pupils emitted their own light, though no lamp burned in the room.
The terror was utterly inhuman—like a deity gazing down at a wriggling insect—so alien, so cold…
“Huh… h-huh… p-please… spare…”
Greta couldn’t hold back a muffled sob. ‘It’ was calamity incarnate. Her teeth chattered violently from sheer terror.
‘It’ simply watched, as if amused—or perhaps finding her reaction laughable—utterly indifferent even to her desperate pleas for mercy.
“…Please, please…”
Suddenly, its shadow shifted. She gasped as the icy touch of that shadow crept up her neck, shaking all over. Soon she realized it wasn’t just a shadow—but hundreds of hands.
They felt metallic—like snake scales, like blades.
They clamped over Greta’s mouth and coiled grotesquely around her short, thick neck—elegant as a musician playing an instrument, suffocating like a spider stealing breath.
“…Hgh….”
Her pained groan was smothered instantly by those hands. Saliva, tears, and mucus poured out in a messy flood—not from exaggeration, but because she truly felt death approaching.
The worst part was that no matter how desperately she squirmed, ‘it’ paid her not the slightest heed—its indifference as cold as someone watching a crushed caterpillar.
“Ugh… hah…”
In truth, if it had meant to kill her, it would have done so long ago. The sole reason it toyed with her like this, patiently and thoroughly rooting terror into her very core, was clear.
Because she had suggested escape to Adelheid.
Ex-husband Wants Reconciliation
One-line summary: Chasing the wife to the crematorium (making an effort to attract someone who has become indifferent), the female lead doesn’t look back, the second male lead takes the position.
Intro:
To repay the kindness of the older generation, Su Mu crossed into a female-dominated world and became a live-in daughter-in-law of the Yan family, single-handedly saving the Yan family from fire and water.
But her husband, Yan Jiyue, the eldest son of the Yan family, treated her with sarcasm and never showed her a good face.
It wasn’t until after Su Mu’s death that this pampered and arrogant young master shed a few fake tears and pretended to want to die for love.
This life’s kindness was enough. If there was a next life, she would definitely kick Yan Jiyue away.
Who knew that the heavens would be so kind as to allow her to be reborn, returning to the time when she had just married into the Yan family.
Su Mu glanced at the Yan eldest son, who still spoke coldly to her, and threw a divorce letter in front of him.
“Let’s divorce!”
***
Yan Jiyue never imagined that he would be reborn. He happily went to find Su Mu, wanting to make up for the mistakes he had made in his ignorant youth.
Wasn’t the reason the heavens allowed him to be reborn to let him reconcile with Su Mu?
But when he pushed open the door to Su Mu’s room, the person lying on the bed was another man.
Su Mu’s personal attendant, Xie Yi.
Yan Jiyue hated him so much that his teeth itched. In front of Su Mu, Xie Yi was a gentle and considerate whisperer of sweet nothings, but in reality, he was vicious-hearted and deliberately sabotaged their husband and wife relationship.
In the previous life, it was he who secretly hid in Su Mu’s coffin and committed suicide, stealing a step ahead of him to be buried with Su Mu.
Yan Jiyue’s eyes were filled with hatred as he cursed, “What kind of thing are you? Your background is lowly, what right do you have to occupy Su Mu?”
Xie Yi looked at the sleeping Su Mu and no longer pretended to be a whisperer of sweet nothings.
He proudly stuck out his belly, “I have the right because my belly is capable of giving the Wife-master a daughter.”
***
Yan Jiyue was consumed with jealousy. He spread rumors that Xie Yi had once been branded with the mark of a “harlot” on his chest.
But on the night Xie Yi cut off the flesh bearing that mark, Su Mu suddenly realized something was amiss.
“How did you know the exact moment I was poisoned? And why did you show up a month early?”
Xie Yi remained silent, blood from his wound soaking through his robes. His sapphire eyes brimmed with anguish – or was it just a flawless act?
Between a once-arrogant husband now seeking redemption, and a gentle soul willing to die for her – who truly held the darkest secrets? And could it be that Su Mu and Yan Jiyue weren’t the only ones given a second chance at life…?
[Reading Guide]
1. True divorce, chasing the wife to the crematorium, the female lead doesn’t look back, the male lead is Xie Yi.
2. The ex-husband did not cheat, he just realized too late and didn’t realize that he liked the female lead.
_____
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