My Insolent Shadow (22 Chapters Left to Complete) - Chapter 12
“Didn’t you hear me tell you to leave?”
Her voice was sharp, as if it held shards of glass.
Even as cold sweat poured from her like rain.
Even with a face pale enough to collapse at any moment, her glaring eyes remained fierce.
“Where is the attending physician?”
“Did you not hear what I just said?”
It meant she had no intention of telling him. That also implied he could still endure.
There was no reason to press further.
My assigned duty was simply to become a puppet that moved exactly as he wished.
A puppet who reads when told to read, stands still when ordered to stand, and holds its breath when commanded.
There was no need to step forward and create trouble.
Just as I turned to leave, Cassian’s body slumped sideways.
I approached slowly, but once his body lay on the bed, there was no sign of life. Fear overwhelmed me.
Clutching my trembling legs, I flung open the door and ran out aimlessly.
While running, a not-so-distant memory flooded my mind.
One day, Mother had collapsed just like that child.
That unsettling night, Mother—who usually came out to greet me after work—had not appeared that day.
I rushed inside in panic and found her collapsed, not breathing.
Her face was exactly that shade of pallor.
Seeing Mother collapsed, I immediately turned and ran back.
I ran so frantically I couldn’t even recall how I got there, only to find every healing clinic closed.
It was only natural—it was late at night.
After running here and there, I finally reached the one clinic still lit at dawn, brought back a physician, and ran the same route again.
The physician said if I’d arrived just a little later, it would have been too late.
Mother had nearly stopped breathing forever.
I sought out physicians to learn her diagnosis, but gained nothing of value.
Ever since then, whenever I return home and don’t see Mother waiting at the corner of that alley, I always break into a run—soaked in fear.
Cassian’s appearance just now was exactly like that.
And yet, in the midst of it all, he insisted I leave to preserve his pride. Did he truly not care if he died?
Well, having received a terminal diagnosis, his death at any moment wouldn’t be strange.
His usual arrogance, always looking down on me, had made me momentarily forget that fact.
When I finally reached the reception room after sprinting, I saw the butler’s back.
He turned at my heavy breathing, spotted me, and widened his eyes—as if seeing a nuisance.
I bluntly told him Cassian’s condition without preamble.
Contrary to my expectation that he’d be startled, he skillfully vanished to summon the attending physician.
As if this had happened many times before.
Watching the physician enter Cassian’s room, my legs finally gave out.
After the butler stopped me from entering, all I could do was pace anxiously outside.
Not long after the physician went in, a groan seeped out from inside.
He must have awakened—his breath came out long and slow.
Sitting down, I heard several more groans pass by my ears.
Even those groans carried a noble elegance, as if he were suppressing pain.
Must nobles maintain their dignity even when standing at death’s threshold?
That was likely why, just moments ago, he’d snapped so sharply at me to leave—he’d been trying to hide his pain.
It felt as if water had risen to my chin.
Just then, the door opened, and an elderly man who appeared to be the attending physician stepped out.
The physician, adjusting his monocle to glance at me, passed by dismissively, while the butler nodded for me to go in.
Inside, Cassian sat with his usual composed demeanor.
Had I not witnessed what happened moments before, I’d never believe this was someone who’d just collapsed.
Truly, he was the epitome of a Blanchet—relentlessly stubborn.
To avoid offending his pride, instead of asking if he was alright, I pretended I’d seen nothing.
“Shall I read to you?”
For an instant, Cassian’s expression twisted.
Surely he wasn’t angry I hadn’t just let him die after seeing him collapse.
Or was it because he’d been caught in pain?
I’d tried my best to act oblivious—perhaps that had irritated him even more.
While I pondered this, Cassian quickly returned to his usual dignified self.
As if his face had never contorted at all.
Over it now lay a cruel smile.
Just like yesterday, when he’d glared at me from the windowsill.
“Forget the book. Read this instead.”
Lazily reclining, he instantly made a mockery of my fleeting intention to help him.
[This is the timeline separator]A girl’s voice softly echoed through the quiet space.
Her face, white as a snowman, bore a long, graceful neck, and above it, the pure white sun fragmented into pieces atop her throat that carried her clear voice.
Sweat droplets scattered thickly upon it.
The fact they were sweat shed for him was quite satisfying.
After all, in front of that child by the window, he’d only offered a smile—never gone this far.
Thinking this, even her disobedience and summoning the physician became somewhat forgivable.
So he’d simply keep her by his side a little longer—because it amused him.
Previously, those sent to serve him were all dull and tedious.
Each one barely concealed their desire to climb the social ladder by bearing the sole heir of the Blanchets.
In truth, House Blanchet would thoroughly suppress such incidents—permanently silencing them by burying them in coffins where they’d never speak again.
Eliminating such insignificant creatures was no trouble at all for a Blanchet.
His mother, still seeking the perfect noble lady in the distant capital to secure a supreme final legacy, was more than capable of such acts.
Unaware of this, they’d even thrown themselves onto his bed.
At eighteen in the Empire, it wasn’t unusual—betrothals were arranged, marriage talks began, and the swift sometimes already bore heirs.
Nobles fervently encouraged their children in this matter—it was daily routine.
Perhaps he should have accepted their advances.
But then he wouldn’t have witnessed this amusing scene.
What he’d tossed to her just now was today’s newspaper.
Her voice, reading it aloud, carried a faint tremor.
Hearing it tremble precisely where he’d expected, a smile broke through his lips.
The novel column in the newspaper featured a romance between a wealthy young woman and a plain, impoverished man.
Unlike fairy tales, this story had a very different ending.
In the end, the wealthy princess forgot that man and happily lived ever after with the prince.
In other words, it conveyed reality: a prince could never be tied to such a worthless commoner—an eminently proper book reflecting truth.
Unlike ordinary fairy tales, its realism broke clichés in fiction, making it a bestseller beloved by nobles.
What was that girl thinking as she read it?
‘Would she recall that child from yesterday?’
A silver-haired boy with bright blue eyes briefly crossed Cassian’s mind.
Not exceptionally striking, but handsome enough that girls would surely admire him.
He’d graduated top of his class early from veterinary medicine on a Blanchet scholarship and was now entrusted with managing his family’s horses.
His name was Hael, if he recalled correctly.
For a commoner with no surname to be entrusted with Blanchet property meant his skill must be considerable.
At the very least, in his father’s eyes.
His father, who valued horses above all else, would never entrust his purebred stallions to just anyone.
Now that he thought about it, he vaguely remembered seeing that silver head pass by occasionally, offering greetings.
He hadn’t paid close attention, so his exact face didn’t come to mind.
Normally, after heading to the capital, one would settle there permanently.
Yet that boy had volunteered to return to this backwater.
While reviewing applications, Cassian had noticed Hael’s handwriting—surprisingly neat and modest.
His reason for applying: to return home and properly serve the Young Master.
Cassian let out an involuntary scoff at such an absurd statement.
How could someone he barely remembered—even facelessly—claim to return for his sake?
He might have pretended to believe it if the boy had simply written he missed his hometown.
One thing was certain, however.
This was a move unlike the others who clung desperately to the capital for advancement.
That silver-haired boy had come straight down here—not for the horses, but to fix his eyes on her.
Standing right within his line of sight by the fountain.
His unwavering gaze fixed precisely on the girl.
The smile that bloomed across his face the moment he saw her…
And the girl’s radiant white smile as she looked back at the silver-haired boy.
Every single detail grated on him.
Did she even know why that silver-haired boy had returned home with such intentions?
She must. That’s why she shared that invisible-to-him smile and conversed so warmly with him.
His earlier satisfaction from her sweat instantly soured.
What did it matter to him if this wretched girl chatted or laughed with that silver-haired boy?
Ah—but it did matter.
If the puppet meant to weep only for him dared to hold another in her heart, it would disrupt his plans.
It might be a cruel thought. Or rather, precisely the kind of thought that, if overheard, would stain the Blanchet’s noble reputation.
As shameless as the classic line: “After I saved you, now you demand I give you my bundle too?”
But what could he do?
Such exalted beings were born with blood that was inherently shameless.
Born without any burden of responsibility.
If she disliked that, she shouldn’t have caught his eye in the first place.
“You.”
Her voice, reading the newspaper, stopped, and her clear eyes slowly turned toward him.
“Yes?”
“Didn’t you hear me say not to bring the physician?”
Her hands holding the newspaper lowered demurely.
A subtle tremor marked her distinctive green eyes.
“You were in pain.”
“That’s none of your concern.”
Yuriciel’s eyes widened in surprise at the unexpected words.
What Cassian said next was even more infuriating.
“I’m going to die anyway.”
The Young Master, who calmly declared he was going to die anyway, was only eighteen.
Some might say that was plenty old, but in certain classics, it was described as the age when a flower bud just begins to bloom into beauty.
To speak of death at such an age was truly cruel.
It would be perfectly natural to curse the heavens in resentment.
This Young Master, who normally acted as if slaughtering others at whim, made such behavior unsurprising.
At least, that was the man Yuriciel had witnessed over time.
Yet instead of blaming the physician for failing to save him immediately, he took an attitude of indifference toward death itself.
That sight briefly brought Mother to El’s mind.
There was a time when Mother had wanted to give up everything.
When she learned the medicine cost far too much.
Even though that medicine might have prolonged her life, she had wanted to abandon it all.
This highborn Young Master, despite having every advantage, now sought to give up everything.
While some desperately longed for life yet couldn’t have it, he didn’t even desire it.
It wasn’t something she should be angry about—and yet, she was furious.
“There’s no such thing as ‘going to die anyway.’”
At Yuriciel’s outburst, Cassian let out a light scoff.
That expression was starkly reflected in the mirror opposite.
Male lead fell into her trap — and shattered when she walked away
This is also on my reread list!
This one is a slow burn, but when it burns, it burns hard.
Definitely worth a read, y’all!
The story follows a thousand-year-old seductive spirit who, on a bet, sets out to charm the male lead—a once-promising but unfortunate cultivator.
But just when she succeeds in making him fall for her, she heartlessly leaves, driving him to madness.
Determined to find her at all costs, he captures her, keeping her by his side no matter what, even if she hates him.
I love this kind of trope—I enjoy watching the male lead suffer in agony.
The ending drags a bit with unnecessary filler, but that’s fine.
As long as I enjoy the beginning, I’m good.
Intro
As an enchantress, Su Heng possesses captivating eyes and charming beauty, easily manipulating the joys and sorrows of living beings at her fingertips.
But to enchant a god, making him taste the bitterness of love’s separation, long-lasting resentment, unattainable desires, and inability to let go…
Do you dare?
Su Heng assists a divine lord in his cultivation, aiming to make him experience all the sufferings of love, so that he can attain the Great Dao.
Only after being chased down from the heavens by the divine lord, confined and completely possessed by him, does she realize how successful she has been.
The once gentle and polite youth has transformed into someone she no longer recognizes.
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Damnnnnn why is this so interesting am I a masochist for liking this haha
I feel like the young master is probably going to get her back one way
I feel bad for Hael, he likes her so much but I feel like it’s hard for the FL to return that type of love