Please Kill My Husband (Completed Main Story) - Chapter 15
The modest mansion of the Havertz family was silent, despite receiving an early visitor.
It had once belonged to a wealthy merchant who went bankrupt, and the imperial court had purchased it at auction.
It was said the Havertz family had acquired it to present a respectable facade when they were granted the title of duke.
Unfortunately, though the mansion must have once been quaint and elegant, the Havertz family rarely stayed in the capital, so its upkeep had naturally been neglected.
Beneath layers of accumulated dust, the floorboards groaned with each step, emitting a shrill creak that screamed of years-long abandonment.
Chairs, tables, side tables, and wardrobes remained draped in white sheets, lending the place an eerie desolation.
Ludmila, stepping into this place that bore no resemblance to a ducal residence, sat on the only reasonably intact chair in the drawing room and studied Aden seated across from her.
Unlike the rest of the house, the table, chairs, and furnishings here were fairly neat.
Even before her death, she’d been surprised to see tea served in a spotless cup within this nearly abandoned mansion.
Ludmila lifted her eyes, recalling Aden’s unexpectedly delicate touch—so unlike herself.
‘…I never thought I’d return here.’
After her death, she’d concluded she’d have to stand alone to survive.
Though the month remaining until her death wasn’t long, she’d believed it would give her enough time to secure her own safety.
But as if mocking her, time had ruthlessly pressed a knife to her throat, coldly forbidding any thought of escape.
Ludmila had never believed in fate—if she had, her wretched circumstances and station would have left her endlessly complaining.
Yet, faced once more with the terror and threat of death, Ludmila had no choice but to admit it: even if she returned, all that awaited her was death.
She had to accept and acknowledge that she couldn’t survive on her own. She needed someone else’s help.
The moment she admitted this, she’d chosen one among countless options available to her—and come here.
“You must have urgent business, showing up so early in the morning.”
Aden, sunk deep into his chair, rubbed his chin and lightly brushed his smooth lips with his fingertips.
With his long legs elegantly crossed, the chair looked unusually low beneath him—surely uncomfortable.
Was the household so impoverished they couldn’t even spare an extra chair for the drawing room? Ludmila’s eyes slowly shifted.
There wasn’t even a painting or porcelain piece—items one might expect even in a modest drawing room.
The room contained only a table, chairs, and a side table with tea set—clearly meant for receiving guests and nothing more.
Had this been any other home, she would have let out a hollow laugh at the sight.
“Why don’t you finally say what’s on your mind? You’ve been inspecting this drawing room since you arrived. Did this mansion catch your fancy?”
“How much does this building cost? It’s quite sizable for the expensive third district of the capital—it must be worth a fortune.”
Aden’s lips parted slightly at the unexpected question, then lifted into a slanted smirk.
“I heard it’s rather pricey. The wealthy merchant who built it used premium materials. Did you see the façade on your way in? It’s modeled after the entrance of a famous museum.”
“The Ethlie Museum—I’ve seen it a few times. That must be why it felt familiar.”
“Exactly. So—”
Aden cut himself short, straightening his slouched posture and leaning forward.
Resting his arms on his thighs, he fixed Ludmila with gleaming golden eyes.
“You didn’t come all this way just to buy the mansion. You clearly have something to say to me. Shall we get to it? I have another visitor coming soon and would like to wrap this up quickly.”
“…”
Her lips, which had opened easily moments ago, now pressed tightly shut. Did she intend to stay like that?
Aden stared blankly at her firmly closed mouth, then straightened his spine.
“Keeping your mouth shut won’t change a thing—not the past, nor the future. If you won’t speak, I will.”
There were things in this world one could understand without seeing or hearing them.
To Ludmila, the man before her embodied this very truth.
He knew about her relationship with Kedilen without her ever telling him—he sensed it intuitively, without needing to ask.
Thus, his words weren’t a threat but a straightforward proposition—and Ludmila knew it. She paused briefly.
The day Aden had rejected her, she’d buried that conversation deep in her memory as if sealing it underground.
After returning to life, she’d convinced herself that entangling herself with him again would bring no benefit, so she deliberately avoided recalling their talk in this very place.
Yet here she was again—stepping back into this mansion—and the thought embarrassed her, even if he didn’t know it.
“I have a request.”
“Go ahead. I’m listening.”
His dry expression and slightly tilted head mirrored the Aden she’d met that dawn.
‘Please kill my husband.’
That day, Ludmila had placed the most dangerous and unrealistic bet of her life.
Naturally, that reckless gamble had failed—and led straight to her death. Yet for reasons unknown, she’d returned—and now that opportunity lay before her again.
Ludmila exhaled briefly and opened her eyes calmly.
“Please kill my husband.”
At those words, spoken through resolute lips, Aden’s expression twisted oddly.
He looked both bewildered and irritated—understandable, given it was far from pleasant to hear such a request on a chilly early morning before the sun had even warmed the air.
Aden bit his lip, silently studying the marchioness who seemed utterly serious, then slowly tilted his jaw.
“This…”
“If I said that, you’d think I was mocking you, wouldn’t you? Don’t worry—I have no intention of making such an absurd request.”
“…”
She had no desire to repeat the same mistake twice. Back then, consumed solely by the will to live, she couldn’t distinguish between feasible and impossible choices.
Convinced that only Kedilen’s—her husband’s—death could free her from hell, she’d been blind to any other path.
Ludmila bit her lip lightly, straightening her back further and squaring her shoulders.
She lifted her chin, met Aden’s gaze with clear eyes—and as life flickered back into her previously dry pupils, the corner of Aden’s mouth slanted into a faint smirk.
“Take me under your protection.”
But his expression crumpled comically at her next words.
“…What?”
Finally, a sharp metallic sound escaped his lips as his body jolted once.
[This is the timeline separator]It was an unseasonably mild winter morning. The wind wasn’t cold, and the sunlight felt warm.
Sunlight filtered through the dusty window, dispelling some of the drawing room’s gloom—but it couldn’t lift the shadow hanging over Aden.
Having just heard Ludmila’s entire story, his face was deeply shadowed with worry.
Leaning back in his chair with his chin propped on his hand, Aden slowly rolled his golden eyes.
After a long, steady look at Ludmila, he lightly bit his lip and finally adjusted his posture.
“Let me clarify. In simple terms, when you say ‘take me under your protection,’ you mean entrusting your safety to me?”
“Yes.”
Embarrassed by his earlier misunderstanding, Aden carefully erased the faint awkwardness from his face and calmly continued.
“The arrangement lasts until winter ends—until the frozen earth thaws and you’ve crossed the Sand Highlands to reach the Kingdom of Islau. Is that correct?”
“Yes. In return, I’ll resolve the Havertz family’s financial troubles. You’re in quite a difficult situation, aren’t you?”
Indeed difficult—it was an immutable truth he’d confirm three times if asked twice. Debts grew while income shrank.
With each passing year, the Khan tribe dwindled, steadily losing its former prestige.
The once-fearsome beasts who ruled the frontier were gradually being tamed by the Empire over half a century.
This wasn’t inherently wrong. The Empire was indisputably the continent’s victor—joining them could even be seen as beneficial.
Yet in this process, the Khan tribe faced contempt, treated like malignant growths destined to vanish with time.
Aden rubbed his face briefly, then turned to Ludmila and spoke softly.
“Go on. I’m truly curious—what solution does the noble Marchioness of House Erdi propose?”
“It’s simple. I’ll help you earn money.”
“How easy. Yes, earning money would solve it—but the real question is how to earn it, isn’t it?”
Ludmila’s eyes drifted toward the window. By now, they must have noticed her disappearance.
Given Erdi’s intelligence network, it wouldn’t take long for him to track where she’d gone.
How much time remained? An hour? Two? Or perhaps Kedilen would storm through that door at any moment.
The day Kedilen dragged her back and forced her onto the carriage bound for the Marquisate of Erdi would likely be her second death.
Ludmila closed her eyes calmly, then opened them to meet Aden’s gaze.
“I’ll give you business intelligence.”
“Business intelligence? Are you suggesting the Havertzes start a business now? If that were possible, I wouldn’t be here.”
“I know. Of course, it’s not business information the Havertzes could use—it’s intelligence circulating among Erdi and other powerful nobles.”
“…”
Ludmila rose calmly from her seat, walked to the sunlit window, and gazed outside.
The quiet, peaceful morning avenue bustled with passersby. Closing her eyes, she swallowed her anxiety, then slowly turned around.
“I possess secret business intelligence—some unfolding over weeks, others over years. For noblewomen, boasting is pride itself. They casually leak information just to savor that fleeting sense of superiority—especially if it wins favor with someone prominent in society.”
“…”
“As the Marchioness of Erdi, I enhanced my family’s public image while extracting such intelligence to deliver to Kedilen. Using it, he earned even greater profits and gained access to influential entrepreneurs and powerholders.”
Ludmila grasped the blackout curtain and yanked it swiftly.
With a soft rustle, the heavy fabric blocked the sunlight, casting the room into faint shadow.
“Your Grace, I possess the information and power to rescue you and your clan from your current crisis. And you possess the power to extract me from here and help me cross the Sand Highlands.”
Just as she had once negotiated with Kedilen, Ludmila now laid her terms before Aden.
She revealed her hand.
“All that remains is your choice. Will you dismiss this conversation as if it never happened—as you did before—or will you help me save your clan from ruin…?”
Now, only Aden’s decision remained.
“It’s in your hands, Your Grace.”
In the dimness, a pair of crimson eyes—far from gentle—flickered menacingly.
Male lead is a Divorced Husband
She said to him: “Tell me, what makes you like me? I’ll change it!”
Liu Changning transmigrated into a female cannon fodder character in a female-dominant novel.
After reading the first half of the novel’s plot, the first thing she did upon transmigration was to divorce the Pan Jinlian-style male protagonist she had just married.
She indulged herself, pretending to be ugly and poor.
But as time passed, the way that man looked at her became more and more unusual…
Liu Changning was dumbfounded: Tell me, what makes you like me? I’ll change!
――
This lifetime, Pei Yuanshao was rejected by the same woman twice!
The first time, she drove him away. Forced by the situation, he endured the waves of anger in his heart, yielding and humbling himself.
That person lay slanted on a rocking chair, her sallow face emotionless: “If you don’t want a divorce, go cook!”
Pei Yuanshao’s face was dark and gloomy: “You!”
The second time, after the crisis in Jinling City was resolved, the new emperor sent someone to pick him up. He turned around, stammering: “I… I have to go. If you keep me…”
That person lay on the kang bed, her back to him, as if she had long anticipated this day, crisp and clear: “Goodbye!”
Pei Yuanshao was so angry his fingers trembled: “You… you!”
The mission of family and country made him restrain himself, averting his eyes and turning to leave this broken household.
Two years later, they met again. Seeing her ethereal face, his body shook like a sieve.
“She was originally a ‘she’!”
At the Qionglin Banquet, the top scholar of the imperial examination, a talented person with exceptional speech and conduct, all the unmarried young gentlemen from aristocratic families looked at her with shy and timid eyes.
The peerless imperial official Pei Yuanshao felt the anger in his heart erupt. He pointed at the woman surrounded by the crowd at the Qionglin Banquet, his thin lips slightly curled: “Little sister, I wants that person to be the wife-master of my Mingde Prince Manor.”
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