After the transmigrator who stole my luck finally left, the world returned to normal. Everyone suddenly remembered how much they used to love me. But it was too late. 1 I lay in bed, the familiar pain gnawing at my body. But today, I didn't reach for the painkillers like I usually did. Because suddenly, rows of bullet comments floated before my eyes. I thought I was hallucinating, but they felt incredibly real. [Is this the female lead of this world? She's so pitiful.] [So many mini-worlds are being invaded by transmigrators lately. The original protagonists are suffering.] [She's lucky she still has her organs. I saw a female lead in another world who was drained dry by a transmigrator, even her heart was dug out.] [Sigh, in the original setting, she was supposed to be the beloved princess, adored by everyone.] [Good thing the transmigrator has been cleared out. Her world line is starting to repair.] I stared blankly at these comments, my mind buzzing. So, I was the protagonist of this world? I used to be happy. My parents spoiled me, my brother protected me, my fiancé loved me deeply. I had countless admirers and was the center of attention. Back then, I was confident and radiant, the irreplaceable princess in everyone's eyes. Everything changed when Chloe appeared. She seemed tough yet pitiful, delicate and moving, quickly earning everyone's sympathy. My parents sponsored her, adopted her as a goddaughter. My brother took care of her in every way. Even my fiancé started leaning towards her. At first, I wasn't afraid. I thought it was temporary, that they just pitied her circumstances. I always believed that in their hearts, I was the most important one. Until things spiraled out of control. It was as if they were bewitched, willing to give everything for her, while becoming increasingly cold towards me. The warmth that once surrounded me was stolen by her, bit by bit. I gradually became air, a superfluous person in this world. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't feel even a shred of kindness anymore. 2 Just then, the comments started scrolling again. [Heard the news? After Chloe left, everyone she bewitched woke up.] [Tsk tsk, the female lead's parents, brother, and that fiancé... they're all going crazy looking for her now.] [Who would have thought the once pampered princess is now living in this shabby basement?] [So ironic. They were so eager to abuse the female lead back then, now they remember she was good? Too late.] I stared at the comments, feeling nothing. If they were really looking for me, I only hoped they would never find me. I didn't know how to face them. Not because of resentment, but because... I was just too tired. The cold glares and accusations had long exhausted the last bit of warmth in my heart. Love can disappear, especially after repeated disappointments. Now, I just wanted to live in a quiet corner. Without their disturbance, no matter how destitute, life would be easier. But fate had other plans. The comments started scrolling frantically. [Holy sht! Her fiancé found her! Liam has found the address and is on his way!]* [He's coming! He's coming!!] My mind went blank instantly. The first thought was to run. I struggled to get up from the bed, but as soon as I propped myself up, my vision went black, and I fell back heavily. My stomach felt like it was being twisted by knives, my chest tight. It took a while to catch my breath. I clenched my fists, hatred surging. Why wouldn't he let me go even after driving me to this point? Trembling, I grabbed a fruit knife from the bedside table, hid it under the covers, and stared dead at the door, body tense. [Ex-fiancé has been standing at the door for five minutes. Is he coming in?] [Speaking of which, what identity does he have to see the female lead now? Fiancé? Don't make me laugh. He was the one who broke off the engagement.] [He despised her so much back then, now he's shamelessly coming to find her.] I held my breath. The door was locked from the inside. He couldn't get in. I thought I could relax a little. The next second, BANG! The door was kicked open. I almost jumped out of my skin. I used to be bold, but now the slightest disturbance was enough to give me palpitations for half a day. [? Bro, can't you knock?] [Aren't you here to apologize? Why do you look scarier than a debt collector?] [Coming to visit without bringing fruit is one thing, but tearing down the door? Is ex-fiancé here to apologize or to fight?] I couldn't care less about the comments anymore. Because Liam was standing at the door, locking eyes with me. In that instant, my heart almost stopped. Fear. Terrifying fear. I burrowed under the quilt like an ostrich. As if he couldn't hurt me if I couldn't see him. But I still heard his footsteps. Leather shoes on the floor tiles. Step. Step. Heavier with each step. I counted silently, my hand gripping the knife handle under the covers tightly. The moment he approached the bed, I threw off the quilt and stabbed at him viciously! Thud— The dull sound of the blade entering flesh sobered me instantly. Blood gushed from Liam's shoulder. He didn't dodge. Red-eyed, he stared at me motionless. As if he knew I would do this, even willing to let me do whatever I wanted. In that moment, I was more scared than before. Because I didn't know what he wanted to do, nor did I know... what I did wrong. My breathing was rapid, vision darkening. Violent emotions tore at me. I clutched my chest and fell back onto the bed, unable to breathe, feeling like my chest was about to explode. I only heard him shouting my name in panic: "Nora! Nora, what's wrong?!" His voice was hoarse, urgent, filled with regret and fear. But I only felt nauseous. Don't call me that. Don't call me "Nora." Consciousness fading bit by bit, I completely passed out. 3 When I woke up again, I was lying in a hospital bed. Looking at the long-lost sunlight, I didn't feel warmth, only a piercing glare. It was the light I once craved, now a painful spot I couldn't look at directly. I slowly turned my stiff neck, my gaze landing on the chair beside the bed. Liam was leaning there, eyes closed as if napping, his brow furrowed with exhaustion and loneliness. In this instant, my body began to tremble uncontrollably. Fear grew from my marrow, pressing down until I could barely breathe. I bit my lip hard, trying to suppress the wave of nausea rising within me. But just as I instinctively tried to turn away to escape, the heart rate monitor beside me suddenly blared an urgent alarm. Liam woke up with a start, his face changing color. He threw himself to my side, his voice panicked and rushed. "Nora? You're awake! How do you feel? Does anything hurt? The doctor said you..." As he spoke, he reached out to touch my face. But in that moment, his approach was like a snake flicking its tongue. His voice, his scent, filled me with utter disgust and terror. Nausea surged, my stomach cramping. I grabbed the edge of the bed and started retching violently. Liam's hand froze in mid-air, stiff as stone. The color drained from his face completely, leaving only a bewildered, helpless look like he'd been hit by a heavy hammer. [No way, Ex-fiancé, can't you feel the female lead is physiologically repulsed by you? Why still clinging?] [I'm new here, this plot is suffocating. What exactly did Liam do to make the female lead like this?] [Can't explain in a few words. It's mostly trauma. Overnight she was despised by everyone, even the world's consciousness started rejecting her. It wasn't easy for her to even survive.] My stomach was empty, nothing came up but dry heaves. I lay back weakly on the bed, gasping for air. In my peripheral vision, Liam was still frozen there like a statue, his face written with regret and fear. There was a glass of water on the table, but I didn't dare reach for it. No matter how thirsty, I didn't want any possibility of touching him. Suddenly, thud. Liam knelt down. I froze, turning to look. Liam lowered his head, voice hoarse and incoherent, but every word burned with regret: "Nora, I was wrong, it's all my fault... I shouldn't have trusted Chloe... shouldn't have doubted you... I... I'm a bastard, I failed you, it's all my fault..." My ears buzzed. His voice was like a fly buzzing around, annoying, piercing, suffocating. I couldn't stand it anymore. I pulled the quilt over my head, silently resisting everything. 4 After a long time, sensing my resistance, Liam finally quieted down. His kneeling figure remained motionless. Until much later, he stood up, footsteps slow and heavy, walking towards the door step by step. Only when the door clicked shut and the room returned to silence did I quietly breathe a sigh of relief. But not long after, the door was pushed open again. I immediately tensed, pulling the quilt tighter, leaving only a tiny slit to observe the outside. It was a doctor and two nurses, followed by a solemn-looking Liam. The doctor flipped through the chart, tone grave: "Nora's condition... is very bad." "She not only has severe chronic gastritis, long-term malnutrition, insomnia, immune system disorders... but also obvious symptoms of PTSD." "Worse, her spirit has been suppressed for too long. She's on the verge of a breakdown. If she doesn't receive systematic treatment soon, organ failure could occur at any time." Through the slit, I saw Liam's face turn deathly white under the lights, as if drained of blood. He stood motionless, throat bobbing, finally speaking in a low voice: "Doctor... please, cure her. I beg you, whatever it takes... cure her." His voice was filled with a pleading that was almost on its knees. The doctor looked at him with a complex expression and sighed: "Mr. Miller, I understand how you feel. But besides medical treatment, we also need her willingness to recover. If she doesn't cooperate mentally, the treatment's effectiveness will be greatly reduced." "Also, the wound on your shoulder needs immediate attention. It's starting to bleed." Liam looked down at his blood-soaked shoulder, shaking his head: "It's fine, I don't feel pain." The nurse didn't give him a choice, insisting on taking him out: "The wound can't wait. Please cooperate." As the door closed again, the ward finally returned to silence. My grip on the quilt corner finally loosened, palms sweaty. I closed my eyes silently. I knew my body's condition well, but having it exposed in front of someone who hurt me felt deeply humiliating. 5 In the short twenty minutes Liam was taken away, the ward door was pushed open again. I curled up instinctively, thinking he was back. But this time, it was two long-lost faces. "Family" I thought I would never see again. My mother, Jane, and my father, Arthur. Before I could react, Jane let out a hoarse cry: "Nora! My precious daughter, Mommy finally found you!" She rushed over, hugging me tightly, almost suffocating me. "Why are you so thin? Your face is so sharp! Oh, Mommy is sorry, Mommy didn't protect you well. Mommy will never let you suffer again!" Her voice trembled with tears, full of repentance. But in her embrace, I felt no warmth. I lay motionless, letting her hug me like a puppet. Arthur stood by the bed, looking pained, eyes red, whispering: "It's Daddy's fault... Nora, Daddy was wrong." Daddy... Mommy... So I did have parents. Funny how they only remembered me now. Their regret came too late, and too light. I lay stiffly in Jane's arms, staring blankly at the ceiling, saying nothing, doing nothing. Time passed second by second. The crying gradually subsided. Finally, they noticed something was wrong. I hadn't responded a single word. Jane froze for a moment, then panic-strickenly touched my forehead, patted my cheek: "Nora? Why aren't you talking? Are you feeling unwell? Mommy's here, don't be afraid, Mommy's here..." Tears fell from her eyes like broken beads: "Oh my god... how did this happen? My daughter... how did my daughter become like this? This is a sin..." She cried heartbreakingly. But to my ears, it sounded like it came from behind a thick wall—hollow, fake, weightless. Just like when she kicked me out of the house. Same face, same voice. Only then, she said: "Nora, don't come back and embarrass us!" I withdrew my gaze imperceptibly, letting her cry. I had long lost any illusions about the word "family." I was no longer the Nora who would humbly cling to them for a rare kind word. Arthur wiped his eyes, voice low: "Where's the doctor? Doctor! I want to transfer my daughter, right now! To our own hospital!" He walked quickly towards the door. Jane wiped her tears too. "Nora, don't be afraid. That Liam is too sinister. He found you first and secretly sent you to this hospital without telling us. He doesn't care about you; he just wants to win your forgiveness while you're weak!" She stroked my arm gently. "Once Daddy arranges it, we'll transfer you. Send you to the best doctors, get the best treatment. Mommy will stay with you this time, okay? Nora?" Her fingers brushed over my skin inch by inch. The warm touch felt like crawling insects. Suddenly, I felt a stinging itch on my skin. My pale hand quickly broke out in a large rash. Every place she touched had the same reaction. Jane saw it and screamed: "Doctor! Doctor, come quickly!" The doctor rushed in. After examining me, he frowned: "This is an obvious allergic reaction. Has she come into contact with any allergens?" Jane looked panicked: "No, she wasn't allergic before, never since she was little... Ah..." She seemed to realize something, her face turning pale. She looked at me, then at the doctor, voice trembling: "Is my daughter... allergic... to me?" The doctor was silent for a moment, then nodded slowly: "In cases of extreme psychological trauma, if a patient has strong rejection towards a specific person, psychogenic contact dermatitis can occur. The body rejects the presence she doesn't want to accept. It's a defense mechanism." The room fell silent enough to hear a pin drop.
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