The Guide to Rising to Power: The Ultimate Schemes of a Green Tea Beauty

The rolling hills of Tuscany stretch endlessly, with mountain roads winding through the fields. Rows of cypress trees stand tall and dark, their deep green silhouettes making the lush grass on the hillsides appear even more vibrant.

In the distance, the Red Top Manor nestles peacefully amidst the mountains, under a vast, clear sky, the wind carrying the scents of the southern Italian countryside.

The sunlight generously poured down, gilding every leaf and every stone.

Italy is the gentle dreamland of this world, and Tuscany is where the dream begins.

After Shen Yao was helped into the car by A Shao, A Shao turned and left with red eyes.

The car door closed, leaving only the silent driver and Shen Yao, her face numb in the passing light and shadow outside the window.

Shen Yao repeatedly tried to convince herself of this.

She respected Liang Xiheng's final request.

He wanted to preserve the last bit of beauty, to keep in her heart the boy in the silver-white suit, kissing rose petals.

So she left, without looking back.

If Liang Xiheng survives, he will either continue to imprison her and never win her heart, or he will be forced to let go and watch her return to Yanjing.

Every possible ending was like a slow, agonizing death for him.

Imprisonment, defeat, retaliation, and becoming a prisoner are humiliations that Liang Xiheng absolutely cannot accept.

He would rather die than accept the fate of "loving someone you can't have and then living a wretched life."

Death spared all the more unpleasant consequences.

Perhaps, this is the best ending for him.

Shen Yao repeated this to herself over and over again.

As the older sister, she did her best.

She gave him a final act of dignity, accepted the longevity lock, and promised to walk the rest of his journey in his place. She did enough.

Yet a pang of sorrow still welled up in my chest, and the scene before my eyes gradually blurred. Tears fell without warning, swept away by the wind, and scattered in the golden sunlight of Tuscany.

Shen Yao closed her eyes, trying her best to make herself happy.

Before the corners of her mouth could even turn up in a smile, a hollow pain in her heart pushed it back down.

She was only in her early twenties.

Why does my heart slowly grow weary?

Shen Yao seemed to sense a strange emotion slowly forming in her chest. It wasn't sadness, nor guilt.

It is hatred.

Hatred, like a seed buried in the soil, is being watered with blood and is sprouting from the deepest part of her heart.

She gripped the longevity lock tightly in her palm; the sharp edges of the silver piece dug into her flesh, causing a dull ache.

Shen Yao hates Liang Zhenghe.

Without him, would things have turned out differently? Could she, Xue Huaiqing, and even Liang Xiheng have played a different hand?

She cannot fall. She holds evidence that could potentially turn the tide of the entire game.

She wants to get to where she is today, and to go even further and higher. Otherwise, the path beneath her feet will always be precarious, and she will always have to act according to the whims of others. She wants to be the one who makes the moves.

Shen Yao opened her eyes, took a deep breath, and slowly suppressed the surging emotions in her chest.

She held the longevity lock in her palm, pressed against the lines of her hand, like a small, unyielding heart.

She thought she had stabilized the situation.

But as the car rounded the bend, she looked up and saw the group of people standing there against the backlight of the mountain road.

In an instant, all her defenses collapsed completely.

Zhou Jingyan and his group were almost scared out of their wits.

From afar, I saw a woman in a wedding dress staggering towards me. The hem of her dress was covered in large patches of dark red, and her veil trailed on the ground, covered in dirt and flower petals. She looked as if she had escaped from a blood-red dream.

Before they could even ask, Shen Yao had already seen them, and then tears streamed down her face without warning.

She cried fiercely and felt wronged, like a child who had been greatly bullied and had finally seen their parents.

The men looked at each other in bewilderment.

No one had ever seen her like this before.

Meng Luo, holding the gun, nearly dropped his jaw, and after a long pause, managed to stammer out:

"W-What's going on? You killed the groom?"

She had meant to lighten the mood, but as soon as she spoke, Xiao Weilin glared at her fiercely, his eyes clearly saying, "If you say another word, I'll throw you into a Tuscan vineyard and bury you."

Meng Luo wisely shut his mouth and shrank his neck.

She just wanted to cheer Shen Yao up because she saw she was unhappy.

Xiang Yuchuan replied, his tone indifferent:

"So what if we kill him?"

Seeing Shen Yao's miserable state, he felt a fire burning in his chest, and even thought that even if Shen Yao really killed Liang Xiheng, it wouldn't be a big deal.

Several men took turns comforting her, some handing her water, others patting her back. After much coaxing and persuasion, Shen Yao finally managed to calm herself down a little.

After she briefly recounted Liang Xiheng's story, the men fell silent. Xiang Yuchuan and Xiao Weilin, unusually in sync, showed no signs of jealousy or rivalry; Zhou Jingyan remained completely silent throughout, simply keeping a quiet presence by their side.

No one asked for details, no one offered an opinion, and even Meng Luo silently put away his gun.

They both avoided mentioning that name, not wanting to cause Shen Yao any more distress.

Back at the hotel, Shen Yao locked herself in the bathroom and took a very long hot shower.

The rising steam washed away the blood and petals from the wedding dress and the lingering chill from the skin.

Shen Yao changed into clean clothes and came out, her hair still dripping wet. She stood in the center of the room, looking down at the box on the bed.

The blue diamond ring lay in the box, still dazzlingly bright under the light, each facet radiating a cold, elegant light, like Liang Xiheng's beautiful eyes.

Shen Yao stared at it for a long time.

Finally, she reached out and closed the box, her voice soft yet carrying an unwavering resolve:

"I'll take you with me too."

The twilight in Tuscany was slowly settling outside the window, and the red-roofed manor in the distance was bathed in golden afterglow, looking as gentle as if it were from another world.

Shen Yao stood by the window, holding a heavy box of memories, and looked up at the northern sky.

She knew it was time to go home. Time to face the people she needed to face, and time to do the things she needed to do.