Chapter 2
Harvey was shaking with fury. "You... you lunatic."
I walked back to the bed, grabbed the knife I'd tossed aside earlier, and brandished it right in front of him.
"Let's continue, shall we?" I said.
Harvey shuddered all over.
"We're not done with your heart's blood yet," I said, tapping his face with the back of the knife, grinning like a maniac.
Harvey clenched his teeth. "I'm the Prince. How dare you!"
I swung the knife down without hesitation.
Harvey screamed in agony as a gash opened up on his chest, blood oozing out.
I held the bowl under the wound, catching every single drop.
"Was that so hard?" I said with a wicked grin. "If you'd just cooperated earlier, you could've spared yourself all this pain."
Jessica stood there, frozen in shock, unable to say a word.
Harvey gasped in pain, staring at me like I was the devil himself.
By the time the bowl was full, his face was pale.
I walked over to Jessica, holding the bowl, and said softly, "Come on, drink it while it's still warm."
Jessica stared at the bowl of blood, looking like she was about to throw up.
"What's wrong? Didn't you want his blood?" I winked at her. "Harvey gave it up himself—talk about sincerity. Go on, drink it."
Jessica took the bowl, her hands trembling uncontrollably.
"Helena... I... I can't do it. I won't drink it..." she stammered.
"Not drinking it?" I frowned. "Harvey went through all that trouble just for you. Is that fair to him?"
Harvey lay on the bed, his voice barely a whisper. "Jessica, just drink it. Don't let all my blood go to waste..."
Jessica looked like she was about to burst into tears.
She glanced at me, then at Harvey, and finally at the bowl of blood.
In the end, she pinched her nose, squeezed her eyes shut, and downed it in one gulp.
Then she clapped a hand over her mouth and bolted out the door.
The unmistakable sound of retching echoed from the hallway.
She was puking her guts out, like she was about to pass out.
I just stood there, stunned for a second.
Then I went ballistic.
I grabbed Harvey by the collar, my eyes practically shooting flames.
"Did you spike the blood?" I shouted.
"I didn't," Harvey protested weakly.
"You scumbag, still trying to play innocent," I yelled. "Jessica is like royalty—drinking your blood was a privilege for you. And you actually dared to poison her."
Harvey protested his innocence, practically shouting.
"You lowlife! You're just jealous that Jessica gets all my attention, so you tried to poison her. You poisonous jerk," I yelled.
By the time I was done, he was half dead, sprawled on the bed, not moving a muscle—the only thing left working were his eyeballs.
I stood up, gave my hands a quick clap, and straightened my sleeves with a smug flourish.
Then I strutted out of the room like I owned the place.
That night, I lay in bed and started going through the Original Owner's memories.
As I kept watching, I found myself sitting up.
What kind of messed-up plot is this
In the original novel, the Original Owner wouldn't survive more than three years.
In the first year, Jessica entered the palace as the Queen. Harvey, obsessed but unable to win her heart, made the Original Owner his stand-in, forcing her to mimic Jessica's every gesture and word.
In the second year, Harvey treated her like she was invisible. Anyone in the mansion could trample her at will, as if she were nothing but a punching bag.
In the third year, Harvey turned her into a human medicine jar, bleeding her dry day after day just to cure Jessica.
In the end, the Original Owner was bled to death, right in front of everyone.
On the day she died, Harvey clung to her lifeless body and cried his heart out all night.
And then, out of nowhere, it hit him that he'd loved the Original Owner all along.
What a load of crap.
But that wasn't even the most ridiculous part.
The most outrageous stuff was still to come.
After his sudden epiphany, Harvey started scheming against the throne.
He blamed it all on the King, thinking that if the King hadn't snatched Jessica away, he never would've married the Original Owner, and she never would've died.
The King, Kennedy Marshall, was just a throwaway character in this whole mess.
In the book, Jessica was the Queen by day, but she was secretly hooking up with Harvey, making a fool of Kennedy for three years straight.
In the end, Harvey's rebellion succeeded, and he had Kennedy literally drawn and quartered.
I was left completely stunned.
Kennedy really got the worst of it.
That was savage. Absolutely tragic.
It was so tragic that I actually felt a little sorry for him.
His only role in this whole story was to be a pawn—getting cheated on, killed off, and just there to clear the path for the main characters.
I narrowed my eyes.
So that was how you want to play it, huh?
I had been dominating the cultivation world for centuries—nothing fazed me anymore.
I had the Demon Lord on his knees, calling me his boss, and every sect in the cultivation world would steer clear whenever I showed up.
And these pathetic losers thought they could mess with me.
I got more power and tricks than they could ever dream of.
If Harvey wanted the throne, I would help Kennedy hold onto his crown.
If Jessica wanted to compete for affection, she would walk away empty-handed.
As for that unlucky King, relax, the real powerhouse had his back now.
A smirk tugged at my lips.
Just as I was lost in thought, a noisy ruckus broke out outside the door. "Bust down the door. Drag that crazy woman out and club her to death."
It was Harvey's voice.