My Face Reconstructionist husband, obsessed with restoring his first love’s ruined face, dove headfirst into researching facial transplant techniques.
His method? Flaying mine.
Every time Anya Petrova craved a ravishingly beautiful face, my own skin was brutally flayed from me.
As it peeled away, my blood pooled into a crimson river on the floor, leaving my raw flesh exposed.
Yet, he would casually say:
“Cover up those wounds. Don’t let Anya see you like this; you’ll scare her.”
“You ruined Anya’s face. Even a thousand flayings won’t be enough to pay for what you did. You deserve every bit of it.”
I was the one who had supposedly harmed Anya, so I bore no resentment.
But the 101st time I awoke from the agonizing pain of a flaying, I overheard his conversation with his subordinate:
“Damian, Ms. Davies’s face can’t take any more. If we continue, she won’t survive… Besides, Ms. Petrova’s facial defect was congenital, Sera didn’t cause it.”
Damian Thorne’s fingers idly spun a surgical scalpel, his expression chillingly blank:
“She doesn’t need saving. Once Anya has a perfect face, I’ll grant her a dignified death.”
So, I wasn’t guilty after all. I was merely kept alive as Anya Petrova’s human face-growing vessel.
Tears streamed down my face as I laughed.
If that’s the case, then I’ll simply erase my identity, cross the vast ocean, and vanish where no one can ever find me.
1
The familiar, excruciating pain flared again.
Blood on my face blurred my vision, crimson tears tracing paths from the corners of my eyes.
The scalpel was pressed down mercilessly, my face flayed right off me.
Damian swiftly severed nerves and blood vessels.
“You disfigured Anya. I’ll make you pay a thousand times over for her pain!”
My face was placed in a special medicinal solution Damian had concocted.
Every time Anya voiced the slightest dissatisfaction, another one of my faces would join the others in the sterilizer cabinet.
I couldn’t suppress a cry of agony.
Damian sneered,
“It’s just a surgery without anesthetic. Can’t you handle even that?”
My blood flowed like a river on the floor, my raw flesh exposed.
He merely said, his tone dismissive:
“Cover your face. Don’t let Anya see that horrifying sight.”
I turned my head. Anya’s face contorted into a shriek,
“Damian, her face is so scary!”
Damian soothed her, his gaze filled with adoration,
“Don’t be afraid, my Anya. You’ll have the most beautiful face in no time.”
His words struck me like a physical blow.
He used to call *me* his Anya when he was affectionate.
My name, Seraphina, sounds similar to Anya.
I thought it was a tender nickname for me, but it turns out he was never truly calling *my* name.
Damian brought a mirror.
Anya looked at me, a defiant smirk playing on her lips,
“What a truly beautiful face!”
Damian turned and went to the blood pool, retrieved a flower, crushed it, and applied it to Anya’s face.
“Damian, what kind of flower is this? It smells like blood.”
Damian was still adjusting it for her,
“This is a Bone Bloom. It will help accelerate your wound healing.”
Our Lumina Clan is born with innate regenerative and healing powers.
Even after death, our bones and blood can transform into Bone Blooms.
I never imagined that even after my parents were gone, Damian still wouldn’t spare them.
Desperate to get closer, I tumbled off the operating table.
Damian’s voice was low and stern,
“Since you enjoy kneeling so much, go kneel on the broken glass outside the door.”
Through the half-open door, I heard Anya’s sweet, seductive voice,
“Damian, try this one, won’t you? Morbid curiosities made from dead people’s bones, just thinking about it is thrilling…”
From the operating table, through to where I knelt outside the door, Anya’s soft cries for mercy echoed,
“Damian, please, spare my ears.”
Blood from my face trickled into my ears.
I remembered how, on our wedding night, Damian had also teasingly played with my ears.
It was just him recreating the sensations he shared with Anya, using me as a substitute.
2
A bone, covered in some foul substance, struck my face.
My thoughts were jolted back to the night a year ago when our entire clan was consumed by fire.
Damian pushed open the door, his boot crunching ruthlessly over the charred remains of my family.
His voice was filled with a perverse satisfaction,
“Tell me where your remaining family is, and I’ll give you some pain relief, make it a little less agonizing for you.”
I gave a bitter laugh, the wound tearing painfully. A warm liquid, whether blood or tears, traced a path down my face.
“My family, they’re all gone.”
Damian paused, suddenly remembering that he had given Anya free rein to do as she pleased with them, just to appease her.
“They died serving their purpose, atoning for your sins. If it weren’t for you, how would Anya’s face be like this? This is all on you!”
I collapsed to the ground, gasping for breath, enduring double the pain.
My Lumina bloodline is potent, granting me powerful regenerative abilities.
Damian had used forbidden magic to transfer Anya’s pain directly to me.
I applied medicine to my face, put on a mask, and prepared to lay my mother’s remains to rest.
As soon as I stepped out of the operating room, Damian’s subordinates seized me and dragged me to the reception hall.
On an exhibition platform, blinding lights shone on my face.
Damian’s voice was devoid of any warmth,
“She caused Anya’s disfigurement. Anyone who performs a hundred acts of punishment on her will earn a voucher for a facial reconstruction.”
His smile was dangerous,
“Since she has regenerative powers, as long as her face remains untouched, you can do whatever you please.”
The moment he finished speaking, the crowd surged forward, punching and kicking me.
My clothes were shredded, and countless hands ravaged my body.
Men lined up, one after another, eager to drag me into private rooms.
When the brutality finally ended, there wasn’t a single unbruised spot on my body.
By the time I was finally brought before Damian again, I was barely recognizable as human.
His appointments were booked solid for the next fifty years.
Anya leaned into Damian’s embrace,
“Damian, you must be so tired. Is this too much for you? Sera didn’t mean it.”
Damian glanced at me on the floor,
“Her disfigured face startled you and upset you, which might affect your recovery. This is just a small punishment for her!”
Damian’s assistant stepped forward to report,
“Damian, Leo has been clamoring to see his mother. I couldn’t stop him, so I brought him.”
Damian snapped,
“Useless. Can’t even control a child. Go take your punishment.”
At that, Leo bounded in, jumping into Anya’s arms.
My voice was hoarse as I called out his name,
“Leo, my sweet Leo, *I* am your mother…”
My mask had fallen off nearby. Leo looked at me, then shrieked,
“Monster! Mommy, I’m scared, Daddy, get this monster away!”
His piercing scream merged with the memory of an infant’s cry.
It brutally pierced my eardrums.
For years, I was only granted a few photos of him when a flayed face of mine pleased Anya.
Seeing that I couldn’t harm him, Leo ran over and brutally stomped on my hand.
When I struggled, he pointed at me and said,
“Daddy, I want to see this monster perform some tricks! It’ll be hilarious!”
Anya chimed in:
“Damian, I want to see it too. Make her perform for us.”
Damian gently stroked her face, “There’s no refusing you.”
3
Anya’s smile was malicious,
“Leo told me he really wants a puppy.”
Leo clapped his hands in delight.
My legs were broken with an iron bar, a pet collar was fastened around my neck, and the leash was held in Leo’s and Anya’s hands.
“Mommy, let’s have a tug-of-war! See who can pull her!”
The collar choked my neck, close to suffocating me.
Bones in my broken legs churned in the bloody mess.
Every movement felt like countless steel needles piercing me.
“Why is she so lifeless? She resisted so fiercely when I was… on her!”
“Right? Don’t let her scary face fool you, her body is actually better than those professional escorts!”
I never imagined that the child I desperately brought into this world would be the sharpest knife to wound me.
Nails Anya scattered on the floor pierced my body and face.
I felt all my blood draining, slowly losing warmth.
Scenes from childbirth flashed like a movie in my mind.
All because of Anya’s single complaint about feeling insecure.
Damian had stormed into the delivery room, ignoring my heavy post-birth hemorrhage.
He ordered his men to keep me alive with drugs, then forcibly began the facial transplantation surgery.
Wave after wave of tearing pain crashed over me.
Blood poured from my face and between my legs.
My thoughts snapped back. Leo climbed onto my back, demanding a piggyback ride.
The steel nails dug deeper into my body, pulling my consciousness back.
A second before I completely lost consciousness, I heard Damian’s words,
“Drag her out, give her some medicine and water. Don’t let it affect the next facial transfer.”
When I saw daylight again, I was back on the operating table.
This time, the facial transfer wasn’t as painful as expected.
Damian, uncharacteristically, had given me medication before the procedure.
I fell into a long, terrifying dream.
I could faintly hear voices nearby,
“Damian, did you give Sera a fear-inducing serum?”
Damian’s cold, sharp voice pierced my eardrums,
“She ruined your face and made you suffer daily. This serum will stir her deepest fears; it’s just an appetizer.”
Lumina Village.
Our clan had lived in seclusion for generations.
The first time I brought Damian home to meet my parents, I unknowingly brought the wolf to the door.
Anya had followed us.
She coveted our clan’s legendary artifact, the Mirage Bloom, a flower rumored to shift appearances.
But the curse of the Mirage Bloom backfired, leaving her severely injured and spitting blood.
My parents caught her red-handed.
Damian arrived, pretending indifference, but that very night, he drugged our food.
My parents were seized, locked in a dark room, and subjected to endless torture.
Their blood was drained, their bones dug up to cultivate the Bone Blooms.
I desperately begged him to spare the rest of my clan.
Anya, however, cried and claimed she was traumatized by the false accusations.
Damian left his men behind, letting Anya direct their actions.
That night, a sea of fire erupted in the forest, consuming everything.
All the clan members screamed and scrambled in the flames, but ultimately, they were reduced to ash and charred bones.
I tried to save them.
But I couldn’t reach them. I couldn’t change anything.
4
A bucket of ice water splashed over me, jolting me awake from the nightmare.
I gasped for air like a fish flopping on the brink of death.
Damian looked down at me from above:
“Anya is entering a beauty pageant. You will be the morbid spectacle for the show, building hype for her.”
He ordered coldly,
“Someone, take her and administer a silencing draught. Don’t let her voice interfere with the competition.”
My hand was seized, and I signed a liability waiver.
On the beauty pageant stage, Anya was dressed in dazzling splendor. I was locked in a cage.
Anya announced her act: dragging me with an iron chain to leap through flaming hoops.
If I moved too slowly, a barbed whip, soaked in brine, cracked against my flesh.
The audience below roared,
“Whip her! Whip her harder!”
“Beasts need to be broken to obey! She’s so ugly, why is she even out here? Serves her right!”
After the grotesque show, Anya’s popularity soared, and she was voted first place.
Anya, clutching her trophy, threw herself into Damian’s arms,
“It seems everyone really loved my performance, Damian!”
Damian’s lips curved into a smirk,
“She owes you this!”
Anya said casually, as if just thinking aloud,
“My sister is so resilient, many people must be interested. She’d make excellent collateral for a wager!”
Then she tugged Damian’s sleeve,
“Damian, you’ve already spent so much money supporting my pageant. Why don’t you let my sister…”
Damian responded with action,
“Drag her to the underground casino.”
At the underground casino, I was masked and placed in the center.
The host began to announce the rules,
“Tonight, our casino owner, Mr. Thorne, has devised a new game. Everyone, bet on how long it will take for this woman’s blood to fill the tank, once the game begins!”
He paused dramatically, feigning mystery.
“The rule is, you guess a specific time. If you’re wrong, you lose nine dollars and ninety-nine cents to our boss. If you win, well, you get to spend the night with her.”
The gamblers’ eyes gleamed with a crazed, bloodthirsty excitement.
Looking at the rows of knives stuck into the ground, I instinctively wanted to retreat.
Anya leaned into my ear,
“Sister, this has all been carefully prepared just for you. Go on!”
She shoved me forcefully, sending me stumbling. My foot was savagely pierced by a knife.
The sharp blade protruded from the top of my foot.
Unable to bear it any longer, I collapsed to the ground.
The surrounding knives deeply embedded themselves in my thighs and arms.
A single movement, and blood poured out.
I gritted my teeth through the piercing pain, pulling out the knives from my feet and arms.
With every step I took, a new gash opened on my body.
The gamblers, their eyes bloodshot, shouted,
“I bet 20 minutes!”
“30 minutes!”
“A foot won’t bleed that fast! When I punished a traitor from my gang, it took over an hour for him to bleed out!”
Due to severe blood loss, my consciousness was fading.
“I guessed it right! I guessed it right!”
A raggedly dressed beggar shrieked in excitement.
The beggar greedily tore the mask from my face,
“A ghost! A ghost! A demoness come to claim my life!”
He stumbled back, falling onto the floor, terrified.
“I thought it was a beauty, but it’s a terrifying monster! She’d scare you awake in the middle of the night, ha-ha-ha!”
The beggar, initially startled, felt his fear curdle into malice upon hearing the laughter.
He stood up and began to kick and punch me.
“You ugly witch! You scared the hell out of me! Let me properly teach you a lesson!”
After venting his rage, he called out to his fellow beggars,
“Waste not, want not! Quick, help me carry her back. Once I’m done, you can all have her.”
As they passed Damian, I desperately clutched his sleeve.
He stopped them.
I looked up, thinking he might finally release me.
Instead, he slowly rolled up his sleeve and said, his voice flat,
“You can do whatever you want with her, just don’t damage her face. And try not to kill her.”
My heart turned to ash, instantly plummeting into a deeper hell.
In a squalid shack in the slums, water dripped from the tattered roof onto my naked, violated body.
My head thumped against the wall with every movement.
Men came and went, an endless procession.
5
As my consciousness drifted in and out, a straw mat was thrown over me.
A man’s voice, cold as ice, said,
“Take her to the hospital. Her face is still useful!”
Opening my eyes, Leo stared at me with wide, curious eyes.
A pang of bittersweet emotion, a mix of sorrow and a flicker of hope, shot through my heart.
“Leo, did you come to see me? I’ve missed you so much.”
I reached out a hand, still hooked to an IV drip, to touch his face, but he slapped it away.
Leo’s face contorted in disgust,
“Liar! My mommy is the most beautiful woman in the world! You’re just an ugly monster!”
With that, he turned and ran out.
Soon after, he came back, holding Anya’s hand.
“You ugly monster, stop lying to me! *This* is my mommy! You’re not even fit to lick her shoes!”
Anya stroked his head, coaxing him,
“Leo, if you pull out that tube from her face, you won’t have to see her anymore.”
Leo asked, confused,
“Really? I hate her, I don’t want to see her!”
I closed my eyes in despair. The person I fought so hard to bring into this world wanted to kill me.
How pathetic, how ironic.
In the end, a nurse rushed in and saved me.
From that moment on, I decided I had never given birth to this child!
Damian pushed open the door and ordered expensive imported medicine for me.
I had no expectations left for him or his son.
Sure enough, his next words were,
“Anya has had too many facial transfers recently and needs to recuperate. No more transfers for now. You are to be on call 24 hours a day, ready to appear the moment you’re needed.”
He then added,
“Anya won first place in the beauty pageant. She said it was all thanks to you. As a reward, she’s granting you a chance to visit your parents’ graves.”
I gave a bitter laugh. When did visiting my own parents’ graves require someone else’s permission and reward?
The ninety-ninth time I woke from the agonizing pain of a flaying.
“Damian, Ms. Davies’s face can’t take any more. Her Lumina bloodline is too weak; if we continue, she won’t survive! Besides, Ms. Petrova’s facial defect was congenital, Ms. Davies didn’t cause it.”
Damian idly spun a surgical scalpel, his expression chillingly blank,
“She doesn’t need saving. Once Anya has a perfect face, I’ll grant her a dignified death.”
So, from the very beginning, he only approached me for my face. I was merely Anya Petrova’s human face-growing vessel.
Tears streamed down my face as I laughed.
If that’s the case, then I’ll simply erase my identity, cross the vast ocean, and vanish where no one can ever find me.
To help Anya recuperate, Damian took her to a famous spa town in France.
Seeing vast fields of lavender, a strange stirring pulsed within Damian’s heart.
His first encounter with Sera Davies had also been in a field of flowers.
As a Face Reconstructionist, her striking beauty immediately captivated him.
Later, he found the little girl who had always comforted him in his childhood.
He had promised her that when his skills were perfected, he would give her the most beautiful face.
When he saw Anya lying on the ground in the village, her face covered in blood, he was consumed by a raging fury.
From then on, Sera Davies lay on the operating table countless times, and Anya Petrova’s face was transformed again and again.
Later, he vaguely sensed that Anya wasn’t as innocent as she seemed.
But what did it matter?
Sera Davies’s face was merely a natural professional attraction to him.
He still loved the little girl who had once told him she believed he would become the greatest Face Reconstructionist.
“Damian, what are you staring at? Come take my picture!”
Damian rubbed his temples, feeling a surge of irritation.
Sera Davies never behaved like this.
She always gazed at him with gentle eyes, meticulously handling every detail.
Damian suddenly remembered that Sera Davies’s favorite color was purple.
Damian called Mr. Jenkins,
“Jenkins, arrange for 999 bouquets of lavender to be air-shipped back home.”
“Damian, isn’t Ms. Petrova here with you? Are you planning a surprise? Should I send them to the old estate or the villa?”
Damian’s face darkened,
“Is that any of your business? Send them to the villa, addressed to Sera Davies.”
Overhearing at the manor entrance, Anya’s face twisted with jealousy and rage.
At the vineyard estate.
A phone rang, breaking the afternoon silence.
Damian was unusually quiet today, idly swirling a wine glass in his hand.
He drank cup after cup.
“Damian, Ms. Davies’s blood pool is almost empty. The wound medicine we sent hasn’t been used, and the guards haven’t seen Ms. Davies in a long time!”
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