Snow Falls on an Open Scar

I thought Frederic shielding me from a knife with his own body was the deepest love of my life.

Then I discovered it was all a staged act, a calculated ploy to make me willingly lie on the operating table and donate my bone marrow to his childhood sweetheart with leukemia, Lydia.

He bought the hospital, deceived my mother, watched me take "nutritional supplements" every day, all to turn me into a convenient source of blood.

When they injected me with sedatives and forcibly extracted my marrow, my mother died alone in a car accident. I never got to see her one last time.

I dragged my broken body to a remote mountain village, completely numb inside.

Two years later, he knelt at the medical station entrance begging for my forgiveness. I laughed coldly and handed him surgical scissors. "You said you loved me, right? Then reopen that scar you got from 'saving' me, and we'll be even."

He actually did it, blood dripping onto the ground.

I turned to smile at Luke, who had just returned. "Come on, the steaks are done. We're having a feast tonight."

Watching the tenderness in my eyes for another man, Frederic completely broke down.

Clara's POV

Everyone envied me because this love was something Frederic had risked his life for.

Three years ago, when a crazed patient's family member raised a knife to strike, I thought I was dead.

It was Frederic who blocked that fatal blow with his bare hands.

His blood sprayed onto my white coat, dripping down the hem.

As chaos erupted in the emergency room, he simply covered my eyes with that blood-soaked hand and said in a steady voice, "Don't be afraid. I'm here."

That scar across his palm, deep enough to show bone, became the ultimate proof of his love for me.

To ensure I'd never be frightened again, billionaire Frederic swiftly dealt with all the trouble.

He brought me to high society galas, announcing to everyone that I was his future wife.

To let me complete my residency in an absolutely safe environment, he spent money to buy shares in an entire private hospital.

I thought, on this exhausting path of practicing medicine, Frederic was my only safe harbor.

But tonight, everything changed.

I walked into his study carrying warm milk. The drawer under his desk was half-open.

I set down the glass and reached to close the drawer for him.

The moment my fingers touched the edge, a medical document pressed beneath business reports showed its corner.

Professional instinct made me sensitive to medical terminology. I pulled out the document.

The header was printed in bold black: Bone Marrow Matching Agreement.

Donor: Clara.

Recipient: Lydia.

Match similarity: Ten out of ten loci fully compatible.

Those names stabbed at my eyes.

Lydia, Frederic's childhood friend who had leukemia and grew up receiving treatment abroad.

My hand holding the agreement trembled uncontrollably.

Not only did it contain my detailed physical examination data, it even outlined a three-month bone marrow maturation plan.

Every item on the plan had a red checkmark next to it.

My gaze froze rigidly on the familiar handwriting at the signature line as tears splashed onto the pages.

So when Frederic had lovingly coaxed me, practicing writing my name over and over on blank papers, it wasn't some romantic gesture. It was so he could forge my "signature" on this agreement.

Footsteps suddenly sounded outside the door.

I hurriedly shoved the document back in the drawer and retreated into the shadows by the bookshelf, holding my breath.

Frederic didn't enter. He answered a phone call in the hallway, his voice low. "Stop rushing me. Her hematopoietic stem cells haven't reached optimal condition yet."

"Frederic, you're being way too good to Clara. You even bought her a private hospital. People who don't know better would think you actually fell for that resident doctor."

The teasing voice of his friend came through the phone, carrying a hint of amusement.

Frederic didn't respond.

I felt completely drained, desperately covering my mouth to keep from making a sound.

Cold dread climbed up my spine, numbing my limbs.

The friend's voice continued on the phone.

"But seriously, hiring those actors to cause trouble in the ER, even deliberately taking that knife yourself. That false flag operation was brilliant. Clara's completely devoted to you now. Won't Lydia be jealous if she sees how you two interact normally?"

Frederic cut him off coldly. "Shut up. Discussing Lydia's situation to my face. Do you have a death wish?"

"My bad, my bad. Everyone knows Lydia is precious to you. This is all to make Clara willingly lie on that operating table, right?"

"Once the matching matures, we'll use her marrow to save Lydia's life."

Frederic didn't refute it. He just rubbed his temples and gave a low warning. "Keep your mouth shut. Don't let anything leak before the surgery. After it's done, I'll transfer a substantial health compensation from my account, enough for her to recover comfortably for the rest of her life."

Whatever else they said, I couldn't hear anymore. Crouched in the dead corner by the bookshelf, my mind went completely blank.

Clara's POV

I'd been determined to study medicine since I was eighteen. Three years ago, I nearly died under that blade. The memories churned violently in my chest.

The patient's family member suddenly attacking, the blade cutting through air, blood everywhere... it was all staged by Frederic?

I'd spent six months recovering, hiding in the house he bought, doing psychological rehabilitation day and night.

He was the one who pulled me out of that psychological shadow. He was the one who coaxed me to sleep every night, saying "I'll protect you from now on."

He even brought my mother from the suburbs into the city center.

He even brought my mother from the suburbs into the city center. He spent a fortune arranging for her to stay at a top tier nursing facility under the family corporation.

My mother had bad legs.

He, a billionaire, personally knelt on the floor to change her bandages and wash her feet.

My mother would hold his hand and laugh until she cried. "Frederic, I think of you as my own son. With Clara in your hands, I can close my eyes peacefully one day."

He would grip her hand back, eyes utterly sincere. "You'll recover. I'll protect Clara with my life."

In my final university year, he proposed to me for the first time, kneeling at the end of the emergency department corridor, saying "I love you."

Every time I saw the knife scar on his palm, I'd cry from heartache. I'd made him the only light in my life!

It was all fake. No crazed patient's family, no salvation. Just a cruel calculation to obtain quality bone marrow.

After a long silence, the hallway went quiet.

Frederic pushed open the study door, glanced at the warm milk on the desk, picked it up and took a sip, then turned and left.

It wasn't until the study door closed completely that I realized tears had been streaming down my face.

An uncontrollable nausea rose in my stomach. I stumbled into the study's attached bathroom, kneeling over the toilet and dry heaving violently.

But only mouthfuls of acidic water came up.

Trembling, I pulled out my phone and dialed the number at the very bottom of my contacts.

My university advisor, now serving as medical team leader in a remote city.

The phone rang for a long time before someone answered.

"Professor, I'm sorry to bother you so late." I pinched my thigh hard, suppressing the sob in my throat.

"Clara? What happened? Your voice sounds wrong." My advisor was clearly startled on the other end.

I covered my mouth, shaking my head frantically as tears splashed onto the floor. "Professor, I've just made up my mind. I want to apply to join your remote mountain medical team. Is it still possible to sign up?"

"Really? Clara, it would be wonderful if you could come! We're desperately short-staffed here. I heard you ranked first in your residency evaluation... When can you leave?"

"One week." I bit down hard, swallowing the bloody taste in my mouth. "Once I handle things here, I'll definitely come."

After hanging up, I braced myself against the sink and stood up, forcefully wiping the tears from my face.

I stared at the red-eyed woman in the mirror and let out an extremely soft, cold laugh.

How stupid, Clara.

As a doctor who'd seen death and betrayal countless times, how could I give my heart to a businessman and expect salvation?

I returned to the bedroom, opened my laptop, and without any hesitation bought a one-way ticket to the remote mountains for one week later.

Then I dragged my suitcase out from under the bed and began mechanically stuffing in medical books and notes.

From the corner of my eye, I caught sight of the long row of foreign labeled "premium nutritional supplements" on the nightstand, ones Frederic had specially air shipped from abroad every week, claiming they were to restore my health after years of night shifts.

Every single day, like an extremely responsible husband, he'd personally pour warm water and watch me swallow them.

Now it seemed they were nothing but catalysts to mature my bone marrow.

I stared at the pill bottle in my hand, feeling a dull, cutting pain in my heart.

The door lock clicked softly.

"Why didn't you take your supplements today?"

A warm chest suddenly pressed against me from behind. Frederic pushed through the door, his arm naturally circling my waist, chin resting on my shoulder.

His tone carried its usual teasing affection, his breath carrying the mint scent I used to crave most.

Clara's POV

Every muscle in my body tensed instantly. I forced down the nausea rising to my throat.

"I just took them." I heard my own hollow voice.

"Why did you pull out your suitcase? Aren't you working in the ER tomorrow?" Frederic's gaze moved past my shoulder to the half-open suitcase.

He frowned and released one hand to pull open my desk drawer.

Inside was the train ticket purchase confirmation I'd just printed.

I grabbed his wrist abruptly. The instant our skin touched, sticky revulsion overwhelmed me. My face turned pale, fingertips ice-cold.

"Not feeling well?" Frederic grasped my hand in return, using his other hand to check my forehead. "Why are you sweating so much?"

"I did back-to-back shifts in the ER for over ten hours. I'm tired." I turned my head away from his hand. "I'm looking for thick clothes to wash. The season's changing soon."

Frederic didn't probe further, just scooped me up and tucked me into bed. "Tomorrow I'll have someone schedule a full physical exam and give you two days off to rest properly. Your health can't afford any mistakes."

He emphasized that last sentence. I closed my eyes, pretending to sleep.

That night, I had a nightmare.

In the dream, the troublemaking family member's knife didn't strike Frederic. It plunged straight into my chest.

Blood gushed out. Frederic, wearing a surgical mask, approached with blood collection tubes, smiling. "Your blood is perfect for Lydia."

"No!" I cried and struggled.

A hazy voice drifted through the dream.

"Clara, don't be afraid. I'm here." Frederic pulled me into his arms, patting my back like comforting a child, kissing away the cold sweat on my forehead.

Like a dying fish, I bit down hard on his forearm.

Frederic grunted but didn't push me away. Instead, he held me tighter.

I slowly released my jaw, tasting rusty blood in my mouth.

I numbly pushed him away, staring at the teeth marks on his arm, realizing I didn't even have the strength to push him off.

"Had a nightmare? Don't be afraid. I'm right here with you." He continued playing the perfect fianc.

The next morning, before leaving, he left warm water and pills on the nightstand, then sent a message reminding me to pick up my latest checkup report from hematology.

Expressionless, I flushed all those expensive pills down the toilet.

Such meticulous care for a walking blood bank about to go under the knife. His patience was truly admirable.

Well, he had been acting for three years after all.

I went to the hospital alone. The head of the physical examination department saw my report and joked with a smile. "Clara, you're very healthy. Those loving nutritious meals Frederic has delivered every day haven't been wasted."

Yes, excellent condition.

I took the report back to my office. Passing by the VIP ward, I stopped inexplicably.

Through a palm-width crack in the door, I could see inside clearly.

Frederic sat on the edge of the bed.

He held a bowl in his hands.

Lydia leaned against soft pillows, face pale.

Frederic scooped up a spoonful of chicken soup and blew on it to cool it down.

He brought the spoon to Lydia's lips.

"Is it too hot?" His voice was low and gentle.

Lydia shook her head, swallowed the soup, then reached up to grab the corner of his clothing.

Frederic naturally set down the bowl and pulled out a wet wipe to carefully dab the corners of her mouth.

His movements were practiced and natural, full of tender care.

My heart ached watching this. So this was Frederic's truly devoted side.

"Frederic, I'm really scared. What if Clara changes her mind? After all, bone marrow extraction isn't a small burden on the body."

That was Lydia's voice, delicate, aggrieved, carrying a pitiful worry.

Frederic gripped her hand in return.

He pressed her hand against his own cheek.

"Don't overthink it." He tapped Lydia's nose.

Lydia leaned into his embrace.

Frederic extended his arm around her shoulders, chin resting on top of her head.

"She won't back out." Frederic's voice was certain, yet somehow carried a hint of heaviness even he hadn't noticed.

"Once this bone marrow transplant is over, I'll give her a substantial compensation in my personal capacity, and I'll transfer the villa in the south district to her name. She saved you. I won't mistreat her. Ensuring she's financially secure for the rest of her life is the least I can do."

Clara's POV

The hospital room fell silent for a moment, then Lydia's even softer voice came through. "Frederic, you're so good. Clara worked so hard to save my life. Once I recover and we get married, I'll definitely treat her like family and repay her kindness properly."

At this point, Lydia paused and looked up at him.

Her tone took on a carefully probing quality. "But Frederic... spending all this time together with Clara... have you... developed feelings for her?"

The hospital room fell into brief dead silence.

Outside the door, I pressed against the cold tiled wall, nails digging deep into my palms, holding my breath waiting for that answer.

After a long while, Frederic's dismissive low laugh finally came from inside, as if reassuring her, or perhaps desperately convincing himself.

"What are you thinking? I only feel gratitude toward her, nothing else. The person I love has always been you, Lydia."

Hearing those words, I slowly released my clenched hands, letting the blood from my nail marks blur across my palm.

So in his heart, my life-saving devotion amounted to nothing more than "gratitude" and compensation money to buy off the relationship.

With that final glance, I saw Lydia smile provocatively in my direction.

I felt completely hollow inside. I stumbled back several steps, turned and ran toward the stairwell.

Three years of constant companionship. In his eyes, it was just deception and gratitude.

That evening at the villa, Frederic sat on the living room sofa flipping through a magazine.

I took off my coat, put on my most obedient act, changed into slippers and sat down beside him.

"Why do you look so pale?" He set down the magazine, habitually pinching my chin to examine me carefully, concern flickering in his eyes, concern he himself hadn't even noticed.

"I assisted in two back to back emergency resuscitations. Low blood sugar." I turned my head, turning away just enough to avoid his touch.

A flash of something passed through Frederic's eyes as his hand froze mid-air.

He didn't actually want to hurt me. It was just that Lydia's condition required bone marrow. He kept telling himself this was merely a transaction.

Just then, my phone in my pocket buzzed.

A strange text appeared on the lock screen: Hello Clara, your car in parking level B3, section D has been scratched by another vehicle. Please come handle it when you're free.

I turned around and said naturally to Frederic, "Property management just messaged. They said my car got slightly scratched in the garage. I'll go down to deal with it now."

The underground garage was dimly lit, permanently reeking of damp mold.

I'd just reached section D when several drunk, ill-intentioned men surrounded me from behind the pillars.

"This little beauty looks so pure. Why don't you keep us company tonight, sweetheart!"

The lead man leered, lunging forward to grab my collar and roughly tear at my clothes.

The crisp sound of buttons popping echoed sharply in the garage.

I stumbled backward in horror. In the dim light, I recognized the lead man's face.

It was the "fake patient's family member" who'd held the knife three years ago in the emergency room!

"Get away! Don't touch me!" I struggled desperately, but the disparity in strength was too great. Just as the man's rough hands were about to completely shred my clothing and push me into hell.

A massive crash!

Blinding headlights suddenly blazed over us, accompanied by the shriek of emergency brakes. Frederic jumped out of the car, eyes bloodshot.

"You're dead!"

Like a rabid beast, Frederic kicked the lead man flying several meters away.

He struck viciously, quickly beating the remaining thugs bloody and sending them scrambling away in terror.

After driving off the attackers, Frederic spun around abruptly, stripping off his suit jacket and wrapping my disheveled form tightly.

He crushed me forcefully into his embrace, his usually steady, strong arms now trembling violently.

"Clara... it's okay now, I'm here, don't be afraid..."

Frederic held me tightly, his lingering fear palpable, his voice betraying a deep panic and terror he himself hadn't recognized.

In that moment, he genuinely feared losing me, feared me getting hurt in the slightest.

Yet leaning against Frederic's warm chest, listening to his violent heartbeat, I only felt like I'd plunged into an icy abyss, cold to the bone.

I stared blankly at the direction those men had fled, recognizing the temporary actor who'd wielded the knife three years ago.

Clara's POV

How absurd.

Three years ago, to get close to me, he'd hired people to stage an act, blocked a knife for me, and stole my heart.

Now, to ensure I'd willingly lie on the operating table to donate marrow to Lydia, he'd used the same trick again, hiring the same group to perform this cheap "hero rescues beauty" routine to deepen my devotion?

"Clara?" Sensing my stiffness, Frederic looked down anxiously to check on me.

"I'm fine." I slowly pushed away slightly, abandoning my struggle and obediently lowering my eyes.

I concealed the disappointment deep in my gaze.

Frederic, to drain every last drop of my usefulness, you've really gone to great lengths.

The next morning, I'd barely walked into the ER when I sensed something was wrong.

No one at the nurses' station greeted me as usual. Everyone was looking down at their phones.

Seeing me approach, they immediately fell silent, their eyes filled with shock, scrutiny, and barely concealed contempt.

Dr. Lee, the supervisor, called me into the office with a grave expression and handed me his phone.

Online and in the hospital's private groups, several secretly taken photos were going viral.

The photos showed me from last night, disheveled and in disarray when those thugs had nearly assaulted me.

The accompanying posts were even more vicious, spreading rumors that my private life was extremely chaotic and indecent, even escalating to accusations that I had no medical ethics and didn't deserve to be a doctor.

My whole body went cold. I clutched the hem of my clothes, fingertips white.

Last night's nightmare that nearly destroyed me was now being ruthlessly exposed for everyone's crude entertainment.

"Clara," he sighed, his tone carrying not stern rebuke but helplessness. "The online public opinion is getting out of hand. Those photos and posts... have seriously affected the ER's normal operations. Many colleagues and patients' families are gossiping."

I took a deep breath, my voice trembling slightly. "Dr. Lee, I..."

"Don't rush to explain." Dr. Lee interrupted me, his tone softening.

"Frederic already called me personally this morning. He said these are malicious online fabrications. To protect you from further harm by gossip and public opinion, he specifically instructed me to give you paid leave for a while, go home and let things blow over. During this time, just rest at home and don't look at your phone."

Paid leave?

I stood frozen.

My heart, already dead as ashes, couldn't help but ripple with bitter irony.

If I hadn't seen that bone marrow matching agreement in his study...

I really would have believed this man was shielding me from the storm.

Only two more days until I could leave all this behind.

I silently counted down in my heart.

This was just the final pacification before the walking blood bank went under the knife.

I lowered my lashes, concealing the complexity in my eyes, and said softly, "Okay, I understand. Thank you, Dr. Lee. And please thank Frederic for me."

Frederic had arranged everything perfectly. First, keeping me home under the guise of protection, then when the time came, straight to the operating table. And the upcoming long break would conveniently let me recover from the weakness after marrow extraction.

Clara's POV

After staying home for a day, I felt restless.

I decided that no matter what, I needed to go back before leaving to personally organize and hand over some personal items and unfinished medical records, at least to have proper closure.

More importantly, I wanted to test whether I could still freely enter and exit the hospital during my "leave." This was crucial to my final escape plan.

So the next afternoon, I went to the hospital.

The ER corridor still occasionally sent strange looks my way, but I no longer cared.

However, fate never seemed willing to let me off easy.

I'd barely sat down in the on call room when my phone rang. An unknown number.

I hesitated, then answered. An anxious traffic officer's voice came through.

"Is this Clara? There was a multi vehicle collision at the downtown intersection. Among the injured is a woman named Rebecca Hayes. We found your number in her emergency contacts. The patient's condition is critical and she's been rushed to City Center Hospital for emergency treatment. Please come immediately..."

My mind went blank. The pen in my hand clattered to the floor.

"I'm coming right now! Please, you have to save her!" I grabbed my coat and stumbled toward the door.

But just as my hand touched the doorknob, the on-call room door was pushed open from outside.

Dr. Lee stood there with two male nurses blocking the doorway, locking the door behind them.

"Dr. Hayes, where are you going?" Dr. Lee's eyes were evasive.

"Dr. Lee, my mother was in a car accident at City Center Hospital! I have to go now!" Tears streamed down my face in desperation. Before I could finish, two male nurses grabbed my shoulders firmly.

"Dr. Lee? What are you doing? Let me go!" I struggled in terror.

Dr. Lee, thinking I was trying to escape, waved for the nurses to inject me with sedatives while saying, "I'm sorry, Clara. Frederic gave orders. You can't leave the hospital today. Lydia's condition suddenly deteriorated. The surgery has to be moved up to today."

"No... you can't!" I cried out desperately. "My mom is waiting for me! Don't you have any conscience? Let me out!"

I struggled desperately like a caged beast protecting her young, but the disparity in strength made it impossible to break free.

"Quick, sedate her. Frederic's private medical team is already waiting in the premium operating room on basement level one." Dr. Lee gritted his teeth and gave the order.

Ice-cold medication rapidly entered my bloodstream, bringing suffocating dizziness that swept through my entire body.

My pupils gradually dilated. I reached futilely toward the door, tears mixed with cold sweat splashing heavily onto the floor, my mouth forming weak, desperate murmurs. "Mom... wait for me..."

Darkness completely swallowed me.

In that moment, I hated Frederic with every fiber of my being.