How Does 'The Despair Of Village Woman' End?

Elena Hart once believed she had a perfect life—married to powerful billionaire CEO Adrian Kingsley and trusting her closest friend, Sophia Bennett. But everything collapses the night Elena discovers Adrian and Sophia together. Accused of betrayal and forced into a humiliating divorce, she is cast out and blamed for destroying the marriage. Broken and alone, Elena disappears, leaving behind the world that judged her without knowing the truth. Three years later, a mysterious and powerful businesswoman begins shaking the corporate world by quietly acquiring companies connected to Adrian’s empire. Elegant, confident, and far stronger than before, Elena returns under a new identity. She is no longer the abandoned wife—they now stand in her shadow. At the center of the story are complicated relationships. Elena and Adrian share a past built on love, misunderstanding, and deep betrayal. Sophia, once Elena’s best friend, now stands as her greatest rival, determined to keep her secrets buried. As Elena’s return disrupts their lives, tensions grow and old emotions resurface. Like the raw honesty captured in Music for Chameleons, where contradictions define identity, each character in this story hides truths behind carefully built masks. But as Elena moves closer to uncovering what really happened the night her life collapsed, one question remains—was Adrian truly her betrayer, or was someone else manipulating everything from the shadows?

After my husband has passed away, I feel my carnal desires building rapidly every single day. At night, I yearn for someone to break and conquer me roughly. I'm at the age when I crave physical intimacy the most. Coupled with the weird ailment, I find myself constantly tormented by my urges all the time. Having no other choice left, I can only turn to the village doctor to treat my embarrassingly weird condition. But little do I know that he'll…

There was a custom in our village. Before every girl got married, she had to take her boyfriend to the shrine to pay respects. If they came out safe and sound, it meant the two of them would live happily ever after. Both of my younger sisters got married when they were twenty. However, I was already thirty and still not married. That was because every boyfriend who had ever gone into the shrine broke up with me afterward. Some even tried to kill me. My new boyfriend was fed up with our village’s backwardness but insisted on going there. My dad, who was the village chief, brought him in. As soon as they came out, my boyfriend pinned me to the floor and tried to strangle me. I did not understand. What exactly was inside the shrine that made them change so drastically? Even though my dad knew they would turn on me once they went in, why did he insist on taking them there?

Every year, the village had to choose a girl of age to become the Blossom Bride. The girl who was chosen would be sent into the cave as the village god’s wife. She would spend the entire night with him. If she came out alive, she would be honored for the rest of her life as a village elder. Any child she bore was said to be blessed, destined for a life of effortless fortune. If she died, the village would simply wait for the next year, when another Blossom Bride would be chosen. The blessing of the Blossom Bride was believed to pass on to her parents and elders as well. However, no one wanted to be chosen. To escape the ritual, families quietly left the village, one after another. I was the only one who volunteered. I had a lust problem, and I had always wondered what it would feel like to be with a god.

Because I saved my husband during a car accident, I lost my eyesight. He wept, promising to treat me well for the rest of our lives to repay my sacrifice. I cooperated with the treatment wholeheartedly, hoping for a full recovery. But on the day I finally regained my sight, I stumbled upon something that shattered my world. In our marital home, his first love lay beneath him, her flushed face betraying the passion of the moment. Their bodies intertwined, and the air around them thick with stifled moans—a vivid tableau of infidelity. "She's just a blind woman. Why haven't you divorced her yet?" the woman murmured impatiently, her voice laced with disdain as she moved against him. My husband, immersed in pleasure, still mumbled an excuse. "My love, just a little longer. Soon, we'll be together openly…" I turned and left without a word, pretending I had seen nothing. As I walked away, I remembered the witch's sacrificial ritual in the misty forest—only a few days away. My husband's betrayal cut deep, carving wounds I couldn't ignore. I made up my mind to return to the forest, to embrace my identity as a witch once more, and to sever all ties with him. Yet, after I disappeared, word reached me that he was searching for me everywhere like a madman. Rumor had it he had completely lost his mind.

The Clan Healer told me that without the vial of Progenitor's Blood, the Blood Blight afflicting me meant I had only seventy-two hours to live. But my husband, Miles, the new Duke of our world, gave the only vial of the precious cure to my adopted sister, Vivienne, the woman I had turned three years ago. "She's in agony from the rejection, Isolde. It's a pain you can't possibly understand." His tone was self-righteous, devoid of any concern for the patch of skin on my collarbone already turning to stone. I nodded, watching as the life-saving, dark red liquid slid down another woman's throat. I accomplished a great deal in the time I had left. As I signed the documents, the lawyer's hand trembled. "Are you certain you want to transfer everything, Your Grace? The territorial rights of a thousand-year-old clan..." I didn't hesitate. "Yes. To Vivienne." My adopted daughter, Lily, the girl I had risked everything to save, who was now forever frozen at the age of eight, cowered in Vivienne's arms, pointing at me and screaming, "Aunt Vivienne is my real mommy! You're the witch who turned us into monsters!" I offered no defense. "Yes, that's right. Be a good girl and listen to your new mother now." The Progenitor's Ring, the symbol of the clan's supreme authority, now rested on Vivienne's hand. "Oh, sister, you're too kind," she sobbed, her sobs a practiced performance. "I'll be sure to protect the family in your stead." I nodded. "You'll run things better than I ever did." I even signed away my control over the Elder Council, a council sustained by my own blood. For the first time in a century, a shadow of complex emotion crossed Miles's face. He stared at me,"Isolde, stop fighting. It's better this way. You need to rest." Yes. On my deathbed, I had finally become the perfect, submissive Isolde they always wanted. An Isolde who was about to turn to dust. The seventy-two-hour countdown had begun. I wondered, when I finally turned to ash,