Trampled and Broken (Completed Main Story) - Chapter 35
Naturally, the humiliation Hestia had suffered that he’d witnessed during the day came to mind.
Her opponent had been a five-year-old child.
Wasn’t it said that children are mirrors of adults?
Clearly, someone must have spoken carelessly and disrespectfully about her in front of that child, so the little brat had raised his voice at Hestia as well.
Aslan could vividly imagine how much people outside his knowledge were gossiping about Hestia behind her back.
‘A fake saint, indeed.’
It wasn’t even funny.
‘Just which fake receives divine oracles, anyway?’
She probably only wanted to leave the temple—but they were utterly denying an entire person’s life.
Just then, Aslan overheard the nobles whispering.
“Will Lady Hestia be coming tonight as well?”
“She probably won’t, will she?”
“But why is she suddenly looking for a husband?”
“Could it be because of Saint Anetsa’s appearance—something’s gone wrong between her and the temple?”
“Hmm… Right? I also had a feeling something like that might be happening. Though, of course, I’m not certain.”
“But even if Saint Hestia were to return to the royal palace, wouldn’t her position become awkward?”
If Hestia ever married a noble of high standing and renown, it could later stir up questions about the royal family’s legitimacy.
Thus, King Yorgos’s side was working hard to quash the rumors that Hestia needed to marry.
Even if, for argument’s sake, the royal family arranged a match for her, they’d most likely pair her with someone far beneath her status.
Suddenly, Aslan grew curious.
‘The princess surely knows this too, doesn’t she?’
That countless rumors would cling to her like a shadow the moment she tried to leave the temple.
They’d probably ignite like dry grass catching fire.
‘No matter what she does, those rumors will never truly die down.’
It was utterly unbelievable that Hestia, who disliked being the subject of gossip, would willingly choose marriage.
‘But why?’
Just why was she doing this?
He couldn’t fathom her reason for wanting to marry so desperately.
Aslan felt an urge to run his hands roughly through his hair, but suppressed it—doing so here would surely invite more nonsense like, “He really is a barbarian, isn’t he?”
He didn’t usually care, but there was no need to go out of his way to hear such remarks.
He slowly drew in a deep breath.
‘Well, after what happened to her today, she might not even attend tonight’s banquet.’
Yet why had he assumed she’d definitely show up and come here so stubbornly?
‘It’s all because of those words.’
〈I’ve always been curious.〉
Unconsciously, he clenched his fist.
He was utterly sick of himself for constantly trying to decipher their meaning.
To calm his agitated mind, Aslan deliberately took a loud, deep breath.
‘Since she still hasn’t appeared, she probably isn’t coming at all. I should head back.’
Just as he prepared to leave—
“Her Holiness Saint Hestia arrives.”
Contrary to Aslan’s expectations, Hestia made her appearance.
Aslan let out a faint, bitter laugh.
Of course—she was always the kind of person who acted contrary to his predictions.
The doors opened, and Hestia slowly stepped into view from outside.
For a moment, the banquet hall fell silent.
Even Aslan, who had glanced over absentmindedly, couldn’t help but catch his breath.
“Damn it all…”
A low, muttered curse slipped out between his teeth, thick with frustration.
Unlike the neat ceremonial robes she’d worn earlier that day, Hestia now wore a pure white dress with bare shoulders.
With every step she took, people were spellbound.
The hem of her dress shimmered as if stars had fallen from the sky, and her silver hair fluttered against her back like spring mist—utterly unreal.
She was… beautiful.
He’d rather die than admit it.
“I see everyone is enjoying themselves.”
When she spoke, people suddenly realized she’d arrived alone, without an escort.
Hestia walked slowly toward the center of the banquet hall and stopped.
Her lips were redder than earlier that day, and her violet eyes—slightly glistening—were filled with melancholy.
Her elegant aura was something no one could imitate, no matter how envious they might be.
“I hope I’m not ruining the mood. Please, resume the music.”
At her glance, the orchestra finally lifted their bows and began playing once more.
Aslan, who had been staring at her as if entranced, slowly exhaled the breath he’d been holding.
He tried to look away from Hestia, but frowned again as his eyes returned to her face.
At first, he hadn’t noticed—but this time, he could tell.
Hestia wasn’t in good condition.
“You really are hopeless.”
Feeling as if his insides were burning, Aslan snatched a wine goblet from a passing servant as if stealing it and drained it in one gulp.
Meanwhile, Hestia, scanning the crowd, briefly froze upon spotting Aslan at the party—clearly, she hadn’t expected him to attend the evening banquet.
But she quickly donned her mask again and greeted with a smile the few who approached her to pay their respects.
Only then did the atmosphere, which had been utterly overwhelmed by Hestia’s presence, gradually return to normal.
The nobles near Aslan resumed their whispers, now even quieter than before.
“But… could there be another reason?”
“What reason?”
“Well… perhaps there’s something wrong with Saint Hestia herself…?”
“Shh! Even among ourselves, you shouldn’t say such things in a place like this!”
“Hehe, look at me—everyone will keep this a secret, right?”
What a bunch of fools.
Listening to the nobles, Aslan thought he didn’t know much—but one thing was certain.
Neither the royal court nor the temple.
Hestia had nowhere to go.
His grip tightened around the wine goblet in his hand.
Just then, his eyes caught several drunken male nobles—who had been fawning over Anetsa moments earlier—staggering toward Hestia.
“Lady Hestia! It’s been so long!”
“I’m relieved to see everyone enjoying themselves so comfortably.”
As the men drew closer, the sharp stench of alcohol hit her nostrils, making her feel queasy.
Yet Hestia showed no sign of discomfort and responded to them kindly.
“It’s an honor to meet you at a banquet like this! You rarely attend these parties, after all!”
Before Hestia could even reply, one of his companions chimed in as if continuing the thought.
“You’ll probably need to attend events like this more diligently from now on—since you’re looking for a husband, after all.”
Their sly, knowing glances exchanged among themselves were deeply sinister.
It was painfully obvious they thought this gave them a chance—and Hestia couldn’t help but let out an involuntary, hollow laugh.
All the while, their eyes roamed greedily over her. No matter how much they blamed it on drunkenness, their behavior was utterly shameless.
Did the rumor about her seeking a husband make her seem so easy?
‘Or are they doing this just to score points with Anetsa?’
Hestia kept swallowing bitter smiles.
She was briefly considering how best to rebuke their rudeness when—
‘…Huh?’
As she turned her head absentmindedly to toss her hair back, she saw Anetsa approaching her.
Their eyes met.
Hestia’s brow furrowed slightly.
Her gaze turned icy as she looked back at the men. So, as she’d suspected—they were Anetsa’s followers.
‘This is going to get annoying. I should slip away.’
Just as she was about to make an excuse to leave, Hestia felt a sudden ringing in her ears, as if her head were filled with static.
“Ugh.”
As she swayed slightly, Anetsa deliberately blocked her escape with a familiar greeting.
“Lady Hestia.”
Anetsa smiled sweetly, her eyes crinkling gently, and quickened her pace toward Hestia.
Beside her stood Stephan Chereto—the very man Hestia had searched for so desperately earlier that day.
In that instant, Hestia was struck by a violent wave of dizziness.
“…Ugh.”
An intense headache and nausea, refusing to subside, overwhelmed her.
“Saint Hestia? Are you alright?”
“Why are you suddenly like this?”
Hestia couldn’t tell whether she was standing firmly on the floor or swaying atop turbulent waves.
The room warped, and people seemed to sway—or perhaps it was her own vision trembling.
Her sight kept flickering in and out.
‘Why so soon…?’
These symptoms hadn’t appeared until a month before her death in her previous life.
‘It’s not time for this yet…’
Hestia gasped, struggling only to untangle her ragged breathing.
But she couldn’t stay upright.
Her knees finally gave way, and Hestia collapsed onto the floor—or nearly fell over entirely.
“Kyaaaah!”
“Saint Hestia! Are you alright?”
Naturally, those around her immediately noticed the commotion and cried out.
“I’m… fine…”
She tried to reassure them that there was nothing to worry about, but it wasn’t easy.
Something hot surged up her throat, choking her airway.
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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