After breaking up during pregnancy, the mistress successfully became the legitimate partner.

Previously on: 

My boyfriend broke up with me because his wife got pregnant.

Lao Fo Ye Successful Correction Summary:

He's really gone.

Only then did I realize that I wasn't the "one and only" he claimed, nor was I the person he was willing to give up everything for.

I was merely a brief respite in his weary marriage, a shadow he could lean on for a moment in the night.

He put it very tactfully: "Once the baby is born, I'll take care of everything."

I didn't cry or make a fuss. I just smiled and replied, "By the time you're done, I might not be here anymore."

During those months, I felt as though I'd been forcibly torn from his world—no contact, no assurances whatsoever.

I sent him a message but he didn't reply, and I'm really upset.

I remember vividly when I first arrived at my master's Buddhist hall.

The master's gaze pierced my soul like a sharp blade, jolting me to my core.

He then reached out and took a copper coin that glowed with a faint light. In the center of the coin were carved runes that were impossible to decipher.

He placed the copper coins on the table, then lit a slender incense stick. The smoke rose slowly, swirling in the air as if alive.

"The ill-fated bond between you!" Master's deep voice echoed once more.

"If this isn't resolved promptly, I'm afraid your fates will remain forever entangled in this dark energy." She advised me to break up with my boyfriend.

I knelt on the cold, damp floor, my forehead slamming against the hard surface again and again. Blood seeped from the blows, yet I felt nothing—all for that faint glimmer of hope.

My voice trembled, yet it carried a near-madness of resolve:

"Master... I beg you... No matter how difficult it is, no matter what the cost, I'm willing... I just ask that you help me bring him back..."

Master gazed at me silently for a long time, his expression as still as an ancient well.

He finally furrowed his brow slightly and murmured, "Obsession runs too deep; the soul is easily lost..." Then he sighed deeply.

His voice was low and distant, like thunder rumbling far away: "Very well... Seeing how resolute you are, I'll try one last time for you. But remember—even if we reconcile, marriage might not be a good thing."

Later, I continuously practiced the most advanced method for legitimizing mistresses.

These past few months have been the days when I've lived most like a ghost.

Every single one of his Instagram Stories, every single photo, is like a knife, slowly and deliberately slicing open my heart that had barely begun to heal.

He went back. Back to be with his wife during childbirth, to comfort her as she lost control of her emotions. He even posted a family photo. His smile was so tender, as if he had never left her, and never loved me.

Print them out, one by one, one by one, one by one, tearing them apart with each cut.

I don't know if I want to tear her apart, him apart, or that foolish part of myself that refuses to wake up.

No matter how many times I tore them apart, they were always still there, smiling so perfectly, as if I had never existed in his world.

I began living my own life.

During the day I'm busy with cases, at night I paint—I no longer wonder if he'll show up.

Until one early morning, he appeared at my doorstep, coffee in hand, as if nothing had ever happened.

"The baby was born," he said.

I nodded. "So why did you come back? To report on progress?"

His eyes welled up with tears: "She finally admitted that the child's father is my brother."

She was exhausted too, and we finalized our divorce.

You can scold me, hit me

But... I still want to ask: Are you still there?

I said nothing. I simply turned and went inside, leaving the door open.

Six months later, we got married.

No grand wedding ceremony—just him and me, and two loves that can finally face the sunlight with ease.

Standing in my evening gown, I saw the light in his eyes—brighter than the lights in that conference room that night.

Yes, I was once the narrator of that story, but later—I became his ending.

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