​After receiving news of my father’s passing, I returned home for the first time in two years to attend his funeral. This was also my first encounter with my stepmother, whom my father had married while I was away at boarding school. Despite being new to me, she bore a striking resemblance to my real mother. In a moment of vulnerability, I found myself longing to seek solace in her embrace, just like when I was a child. Observing the pitiful state my father had met his demise in, I couldn’t help but wonder what drew my mother and stepmother to such a flawed individual. The following day, a magnificent carriage arrived at our doorstep – a generous gesture from my wealthy grandfather. With our home already mortgaged, we had no choice but to accept his aid. Little did I know, he had an ulterior motive for extending his support. As he had no male heirs, he decided to adopt me and groom me as his successor. Thus, my stepmother and I embarked on a new chapter of our lives in my grandfather’s opulent mansion.​