Devil or Angel (GL) - Chapter 1

The pitch-black night hung heavy, the moon high in the sky casting its faint glow on those returning home late. Here and there, lights still glimmered in some houses, where family members or lovers were waiting for their dear ones to come back.

But at the end of the winding road stood a vast villa, its lights already long extinguished, swallowed up by darkness. In one of its spacious rooms, a figure curled beneath the covers, trembling ever so slightly. If one listened carefully, faint sobs could be heard, the owner’s lips whispering over and over: “No… don’t… no…”

Zhang Yiyang had long been plagued by nightmares. Or rather, such nights had become her norm. Ever since the moment, at ten years old, when her mother leapt to her death before her very eyes, she had never once known a good night’s sleep. Every dream replayed the same thing: her mother’s resentful gaze before leaving, and her bloodied body as it fell.

From that day on, she dreamed every night, relying on sleeping pills just to fall asleep. She had tried more than once to quit, but always failed. The shadows clung to her—close her eyes, and those unbearable scenes would return in full detail, just as her mother’s figure did now.

“Yangyang, don’t blame your father. This was all my own doing. I hope when you grow up, you won’t be like me—don’t find someone who doesn’t love you. You must find someone who truly loves you, someone who cherishes you well. I’ll always be watching you from the sky, guarding you, hoping you find happiness. Even if I’m no longer by your side, remember that Mama loves you, always and forever.”

Tears slid from the corners of her eyes, soaking into the pillow, her heart aching with a pain words could never capture. Though sixteen years had passed, she would never forget that day—it was etched forever into her mind.

She forced herself to remember every ounce of that pain, and she never let go of her hatred for the man called “father.” No matter how he tried to care for her after her mother’s death, she never spared him a glance. To her, it was all an act. In this house, they were nothing more than strangers.

The only one who truly mattered was Aunt Liu, the woman who had raised her. The reason she still lived in this house was only because it held memories of her mother.

She remembered how her mother used to wait for her after school, cooking up her favorite dishes, and how, on weekends, she would take her to the garden to play. When she tired, her mother would gently wipe her sweat, laughing with her on the swing under the sun.

Now all those memories had turned to smoke. With her mother gone, even her face in Yiyang’s memory grew blurred. What remained was only the cold presence of the man she shared bl00d with—a man she felt only hatred toward.

From her mother’s words and her own impressions, she knew that ever since her birth, her father had never once truly looked at either of them. Always out early and back late, he had never fulfilled the role of a father in those first ten years.

She watched her mother cry every day, always hoping, praying that man might one day look at her, care for her—if only for a minute. But all she got was endless sighs and disappointment.

Her mother’s condition grew worse by the day, until doctors finally diagnosed her with depression. Back then, Yiyang was too young to understand what such an illness meant. All she knew, from Aunt Liu’s words, was that if she made her mother happy, maybe she could drive the sickness away. She tried everything to make her laugh. But her mother’s response was always the same: vacant, lifeless eyes. The mother who once loved to smile never returned.

Her mother’s temper worsened—she smashed countless things in the house. But her father only stood by coldly, silent, without a word. He didn’t even care enough to stay home anymore.

And so her mother finally chose that irreversible path. In her last moment, Yiyang saw that long-lost tenderness in her eyes—but also the unmistakable relief of release. It was an expression Yiyang would remember forever.

She had always told herself that when she grew up, she would uncover the truth. Why had her father treated her mother with such cruelty, driving her to such an end? What did her mother’s final words truly mean? What secrets had been hidden between her parents? The questions remained, unsolved mysteries etched in her heart.

Lying on her back, staring at the ceiling, Yiyang recalled those fragments of the past. Tonight, without the help of sleeping pills—Aunt Liu had hidden them—she knew she was doomed to insomnia, forced to face the pain awake.

The next morning, Aunt Liu saw the dark circles under her eyes and felt her heart ache.
“Miss, don’t blame me for hiding your pills. You really can’t keep taking that stuff—the doctor said it’s too harmful. Let’s try to quit, alright?”

“I know, Aunt Liu. I don’t blame you. I just need a little time to adjust, I guess. Maybe once I untie the knot in my heart, things will get better. Don’t worry too much—I’ll manage.” Yiyang smiled as she comforted her.

“Ah… your mother passed so early, and things are like this between you and the Master… and now you’ve ended up with this illness. I promised your mother I’d take good care of you…” Aunt Liu’s eyes welled up with tears.

Yiyang hugged her, patting her back. “Aunt Liu, everything will be fine. Please don’t cry, okay? If you cry, you won’t be pretty anymore—you’ll look like a big tabby cat. Then I’ll have to buy you a whole pile of makeup to fix it.”

Aunt Liu let out a teary laugh. “Miss, listen to you. I’m already so old, and you keep buying me makeup. At this rate, I’ll still have piles of it left when I’m seventy or eighty. Isn’t it a waste?”

“If you can’t finish it, then put it on several times a day. Touch up your face often! You’ve raised me since I was little—I see you as half a mother. Of course I should show you filial piety.”

“You… you rascal. Always teasing this old woman. What good is makeup for someone like me, working with my hands all day? Who would I be looking pretty for?”

“For me, of course! You’re not old at all. I want to see you looking beautiful every day. Alright, no more crying—let’s have breakfast.”

Just as she finished, a man in a sharp suit descended the stairs. Yiyang didn’t even glance his way, sitting at the table and quietly eating her bread. Aunt Liu fetched a bowl and chopsticks and placed them on the table.

Zhang Guodong sat down, looked at his daughter silently eating, then turned to Aunt Liu. “I’ll be away on a business trip for the next few days. No need to cook for me at night. I should be back in about three days.”

Though the words were directed at Aunt Liu, they were clearly meant for his daughter as well. But he knew she wouldn’t care. From childhood, he had never cared much for her, and only after her mother’s death had he realized his mistake. He had tried everything to make up for it, but it was too late. Their relationship remained frozen, unchanged through all the years. He truly had no idea how to deal with his daughter.

They ate in silence, as if strangers sharing a table. Soon, Yiyang finished, slung her bag over her shoulder, and left for her studio.

As she went, she only said goodbye to Aunt Liu and reminded her to cook dinner later. Zhang Guodong could only watch her departing figure, his face clouded with sorrow.

Aunt Liu had long seen it all. She knew Yiyang’s resentment toward her father ran deep. Though they lived under the same roof, ate at the same table, they barely spoke a word. The Master sighed endlessly, but there was nothing she could do.

As the saying goes, only the one who tied the knot can untie it. The rift in their hearts could only be mended by themselves. She wished she might one day see them reconciled, but such a hope was little more than a luxury.

And Yiyang’s temper—she knew it well: stubborn, unbending. No matter how she tried to persuade her to let go of the past, Yiyang held on tightly to her grievances, especially when it concerned her most beloved mother. Ah… she could only take things one step at a time, wondering if she would ever live to see that happy scene.

After Yiyang left, Zhang Guodong put on his jacket and told the driver to fetch his briefcase, ready to leave as well. At the door, he turned back to Aunt Liu.
“Take good care of Yiyang. Try to get her to come home earlier, and don’t let her linger in messy places. She still listens to you.”

“Yes, Master,” Aunt Liu replied.