Chapter 1
**Chapter Title: Unexpected Love After an Arranged Marriage** Elric Blackwood, a rising star in Hollywood, finds himself wrapped up in the plot of a dramatic romance novel that connects him to its main character’s pain. His rival, Gideon Grey, not only authored this scandalous narrative but is also the one who proposes an “arranged marriage,” catapulting Elric into a whirlwind of emotions and misunderstandings. * **After the Wedding** Elric accidentally shattered Cecilia Thorne's cherished figurine, the only thing he treasured from her collection— As Elric watched Cecilia's hand reach out toward him, he took the opportunity to quip, “A man who hits his wife isn’t a good husband!” Just Cecilia, who was simply trying to open the door: “…” * Cecilia, trying to ease her terminally ill father’s worries, sets aside her pride to approach her longtime rival with a request for an arranged marriage. To her astonishment, he agrees without hesitation. Initially, they both expected nothing more than to lead lives of mutual indifference, but things take a turn when— He starts calling her “wifey” in front of friends. He sends her unsolicited video clips like “How Good Men Treat Their Wives” and “Defining Healthy Relationships.” Cecilia suddenly begins to realize: he must have feelings for me. * As their relationship heats up, Cecilia unexpectedly discovers that Elric shares a fateful connection with the character from Gideon’s novel. She learns that agreeing to the arranged marriage was primarily to sway him to rewrite his narrative into something sweeter. But when she confronts him to annul the arrangement, Elric is reluctant to let go. The high-profile beauty (x) naive yet passionate novelist. ***Endearing & Conflicted*** *** The night was thick and quiet in a small, secluded courtyard. “Ah—” A sudden scream pierced the silence, startling the crows nestled in the branches. “Crack.” The sound of a leather whip hitting flesh echoed, instantly lacerating skin, blood splattering everywhere. In the room, a man disheveled and wild-eyed raised the whip again with a gusty force— Smack! Smack! The delicate skin was left crisscrossed with welts, stained in crimson. The man lying on the ground could only muster feeble moans. The man yanked him by the hair, lifting him up. A beautifully defined face was drenched in sweat, pale as a sheet. The whip arched again, aiming at that delicate visage. “Ah.” With a start, Elric shot awake, instinctively touching his face. His palm was slick with sweat, but there was no trace of blood. Sitting up against the bed’s headboard, he turned on the lamp. The bright light assaulted his eyes, causing him to blink rapidly, and through the blur, he saw his palm was clean, devoid of any gore. “Phew.” Elric released a breath, feeling the muscles in his face shift painfully. Elric activated the front camera on his phone, the image staring back at him showed a drained face, but there were no welts in sight. Touching his cheek gingerly, it felt burned, as if seared by a hot iron. What’s going on? That whip wasn’t striking me, so why the hell am I in pain? Feeling bewildered, he brushed off the anxiety from the nightmare and laid back down; only then did he notice the aching sensation creeping across his back. “Damn.” Elric winced as he pressed a hand to his back, teeth gritting against the sharp pain, before throwing off the covers and carefully making his way to the restroom. He turned sideways, trying to catch a glimpse of his shoulder in the mirror.
Chapter 2
Elric Blackwood winced as he brushed his back against the smooth sheets. It felt as if he had lost feeling in that area, the sensation somewhere between numbness and an aching throbbing. He could barely focus, shuffling slowly back to the bed where he dropped onto it, positioning his chin on the pillow. With shaky hands, he unlocked his phone, browsed the web, typing in “Is Nightmare real?” followed by “Reactions of those affected by Nightmare.” Finally, he searched, “Why does it hurt as if I’m feeling what’s happening to the person in my dream?” Elric was baffled as to why he felt like he was sharing pain with someone from his dream—a dream so vivid it had left him feeling tormented. It was like the lashes from the dream landed squarely on his own back. “Why is this happening?” he muttered to himself, changing his search terms. This time, a few more results popped up. One article that caught his eye was titled “Pain Connection,” attracting a surprising number of clicks. "I used to feel his pain when my boyfriend was hurt. It's like our senses were intertwined, and I just wanted to hold him close to make sure he was safe," the commenter had written. Elric found the statement ridiculous. How could two people possibly share pain? He locked his phone in exasperation, feeling another wave of pain course through his back and face. Doubts began creeping in again—was all of this just an elaborate dream? Still, the discomfort in his back was achingly real. ... The warm spring sunlight streamed through the branches, casting playful shadows over a sleeping figure nestled on a chaise longue. The person was strikingly gorgeous, with long, gracefully curled lashes, a sharp jawline, and hint of flush upon their lips. Young Squire looked at Elric Blackwood, his eyes softening with admiration as he recalled a description of a character from a novel he had recently read: “The man in a flowing white robe, with a visage of jade and eyes as bright as the stars—handsome beyond belief.” Elric awoke slowly, the glimmer of warmth in his eyes remaining dreamy, his voice muffled by sleep. "Are we done filming?" "Not yet," Young Squire replied, shaking his head, "Elric, what happened to you last night? You look exhausted." Elric was known on set for his unwavering energy, rarely needing rest even during late-night shoots. "Just couldn't sleep well,” Elric murmured, the pain of last night still gnawing at his consciousness, clouding his thoughts. Young Squire nodded, his concern palpable. "Make sure to get some rest tonight, okay? By the way, I found something you might like." He intrigued Elric by leaning closer, holding out his phone with a conspiratorial grin. “What is it?” Elric inquired, shifting to peer at the screen. Young Squire excitedly handed over his phone. “It’s a novel I’ve been reading. There’s a part about the character that totally reminds me of you!” Elric barely glanced at it before handing it back, interest waning. “Sounds boring.” "The thing is, this guy gets beat with a whip." Young Squire muttered as he reclaimed the phone, and Elric’s ears perked up involuntarily. The memories from his dream tugged at him like ghosts. "Whip?" Elric asked, brow furrowing. The word stung, bringing thoughts of last night flooding back—of vivid pain from an uncanny dream. "Yeah! The latest chapter just came out. The character isn't even human—it’s like he's being brutalized!" Young Squire sighed, clearly anxious for tonight's upload. Elric mulled over it briefly, then queried, “What’s the title of the book?” Not out of paranoia, but because it was too coincidental for his tranquil state. Young Squire’s eyes lit up at Elric’s newfound interest. “It’s called *The Duke's Sheer Love*, by an author named Celia Thorne. It's serialized on Green Rivers Literature.” As Young Squire excitedly gave details, Elric had already downloaded the app, searching the title avidly. He quickly navigated to the last chapter, the words flying by as he scrolled. “...flesh torn open, ...hair down, ...the whip... aimed straight for that beautiful face.” Elric devoured the words, quickening his pace until he instinctively turned to see the final page. “Are you okay, Elric?” Young Squire asked, noticing Elric's face had drained of color. He thought perhaps the graphic imagery had been too much. “Maybe you should stop reading.” Elric held his silence, his mind a frenzy as memories of last night began colliding with what he just read. He recalled that phrase he saw: “It’s like our senses were intertwined…” Intertwined. Could such a phenomenon truly exist in this world? “Damn.” It seemed that reality was indeed as absurd as it appeared. He bent over, feeling at the back of his knee, where a distinct aching resonated as if someone had kicked it hard. After wrapping up the day’s shooting, Elric returned to the Inn. On the verge of taking a shower, he was abruptly taken aback by a sudden sharp pain ripping through his knees as if they shattered with every little jolt. Collapsing onto the couch, he grabbed his phone and saw the time—9:03. Opening the app, he discovered the only novel on his shelf had updated. He dove back in to read. “...Master Alaric thundered a kick into the Noble’s knee... collapsing onto the ground... forced to kneel all night long...” Elric: ... Just a coincidence tonight. The next evening. While reviewing his scripts, Elric was suddenly gripped by a wave of stomach pain that felt like someone was throwing a wild party inside him. He tried to suppress the discomfort and, proficiently, opened the novel again. “...a punch to the noble’s gut...” Elric: ……… The fourth, fifth, and sixth nights followed… Elric Blackwood finally accepted that he shared a painful connection with the protagonist from that historical melodramatic novel. * At the Company’s filming location. Elric was now immersed in shooting a modern dramatic series, portraying a cold, untouchable CEO. He had mastered this role and felt it flowing effortlessly. He even squeezed in time to read Celia Thorne’s novel during breaks on set. The notion of a shared pain sounded absurd, yet it was unmistakably real for him. The most effective solution he could conceive involved tracking down the author to negotiate some alterations to the protagonist’s misfortunes. However, he found himself unable to locate any direct contact details for Celia Thorne aside from the comment section of the novel.
Chapter 3
Elric Blackwood did not want to be seen as a creep, so he decided to start by diving into the works of that author. At the very least, he would read a few novels from the timelines before making any judgments. He casually clicked on one of the author’s books and started reading. However, after just two chapters, he found that the name of the protagonist seemed oddly familiar, as if he had heard it somewhere before. The thought slipped from him, and he continued to read. After two more chapters, the storyline felt eerily reminiscent. “Baldric Stone stood before the man, gazing at the girl he held in his arms. His face was filled with sorrow, tears streaming down his cheeks as he said, ‘Duke Reginald Fairchild, how could you betray me?’” The man remained calm, his words cutting into Baldric Stone's heart like a dagger: “You were just a substitute for the stars; you actually thought you could marry into a wealthy family? Dream on.” Slap— Elric quickly snatched the thin paper from the boy's hands, his gaze sweeping over the words. His tone was heavy as he said, “Is reading someone else's private matters aloud in public really that entertaining?” The boy, seemingly tough but easily flustered by Elric's remark, stammered, “I—I found it on the ground! I didn’t know whose it was, I just wanted to have a look.” “Just give it to me.” A cool voice chimed in beside Elric. “I know whose it is.” Without even looking, Elric recognized it was his arch-nemesis and desk mate—Cecilia Thorne. It was unusual for Cecilia to speak to him first, and although she was involved in discussing someone else's privacy, Elric chose not to push the matter further. Cecilia snatched the paper from Elric’s hands and tucked it away in her desk. Elric assumed she just didn't want anyone else to see it. But when he packed up his belongings to leave the classroom that afternoon, he caught a glimpse of that paper on the desk next to him. It was sitting there, with words filled across the page. At a glance, he recognized the handwriting—it was definitely Cecilia's. No wonder he thought the writing looked familiar that morning. However, Elric had no intention of prying into someone else's business. He simply grabbed a notebook from his desk and laid it over the piece of paper, covering it. As he exited the classroom, his path crossed with Cecilia’s as she returned from somewhere. They exchanged glances but said nothing, acting like complete strangers. Thinking back, Elric remembered how he used to see Cecilia scribbling in notebooks throughout high school, frequently changing from one to another, her pens running out of ink quickly. It turned out she had been writing stories back then. Though Elric still had doubts regarding whether this version of time was indeed Cecilia, he subconsciously already believed the author was her. After the daytime shoot wrapped up, Elric returned to The Inn to rehearse for two scenes slated for the next day. Then, he clicked back into the novel and continued reading. He was nearly halfway through, and the melodrama of the story opened his eyes wider than he’d ever expected. However, he couldn’t read for too long; every night at nine, when “The Duke's Sheer Love” updated, Elric experienced a visceral connection with the protagonist’s pain, and a half-hour later, that pain would vanish completely. Over the past few days, Elric had grown accustomed to this level of discomfort. Tonight, though, everything felt different. Pain coursed through his entire body as if his insides were shifting positions, overwhelming him beyond his limits. He collapsed onto The Couch, cold sweat dripping from his forehead. Curling up tightly, he tried to ease the throbbing ache, but it was barely effective. The intensity of pain dulled Elric's mind, and suddenly, he recalled the author of this novel. --- Cecilia hurried to the Third Hospital, frightened and anxious. Sir Edwin Thorne had just been wheeled into the ICU, leaving only Lady Isolde Grey sitting alone in the waiting area. “Mom!” she rushed over. “How’s Dad?” Cecilia was busy managing papers at The Guild when she received a frantic call from Lady Isolde, informing her that Sir Edwin had fallen down the stairs and was being rushed to the hospital. “They said it’s a brain hemorrhage, and the doctors are worried,” Lady Isolde released a shuddering breath, her guarded composure giving way to tears as she leaned on Cecilia’s shoulder. The temperature was chilly for an early spring evening, and Lady Isolde was only wearing a light blouse. Cecilia quickly draped her suit jacket over her mother’s shoulders and handed her a tissue. “It’ll be alright. Dad's generally in good health. He’ll pull through.” At eight, a doctor emerged, announcing that the surgery had been successful. Sir Edwin’s condition was stable, and with a few days’ observation, he could be moved to a regular room. Cecilia and Lady Isolde finally breathed a collective sigh of relief. After ensuring that Lady Isolde was settled at home and calmed her down, Cecilia returned to The Guild. Thorne Corporation had been built from scratch by Sir Edwin. He had little interest in business but likely wouldn’t have pursued it if not for marrying Lady Isolde. He might have sought a peaceful life in a picturesque village after college. Consequently, when Cecilia graduated from university, she took over the Thorne Corporation, which had flourished under her leadership. Thorne had grown into a leading force in the industry. Recently, they were preparing tender documents for the government, putting everyone into a frenzy. For nearly half a month, Cecilia had barely been away from The Office. Now, returning home meant facing a towering stack of documents awaiting her signature—there was no room for fatigue. Once she managed the piled paperwork, her phone buzzed with a new message, and she was momentarily taken aback—a text from Elric. To others, particularly family, their childhood history painted them as lifelong friends, but only they understood their true feelings of disdain towards one another. Cecilia couldn’t stand Elric’s carefree attitude while Elric found Cecilia's aloof demeanor grating. Elric loved sports while she cherished moments engulfed in books. Elric thrived on his hard rock music, whereas folk songs were far beyond his comprehension.
Chapter 4
The relationship between them was like the two sides of a coin, forever opposing and unable to blend. Cecilia Thorne opened the chat with Elric Blackwood, greeted by a thirty-second voice message. She frowned, unsure of what prank Elric was playing this time. Glancing up at Tommy, who was sitting on the couch reviewing tomorrow's schedule, she pressed down on the voice message to convert it to text… “Elric, you jerk! You’ve put me through hell—” Elric's weak voice echoed in the quiet, spacious office, causing Tommy to instinctively look up at Cecilia, only to quickly lower his gaze, pretending nothing had happened. But in his mind, he was already weaving an intricate melodrama. How could someone dare to insult Cecilia like that? And with such ambiguity too. Tsk. Cecilia: … As she held the button down, her fingers slipped just enough for Elric's voice to burst through the office, but Cecilia reacted quickly, silencing her phone and cutting off the rest of Elric's words. Her expression darkened as she shot a message back to Elric before unhesitatingly blocking him. * Elric was jolted awake by the cold. He thought he was still in bed, but as he rolled over to grab his phone, he ended up on the floor. Fortunately, the hotel room was carpeted, so Elric avoided serious injury. After yesterday’s painful ordeal, he had felt so miserable that he must have passed out completely. He hadn’t been sleeping well lately, and the pain had finally overwhelmed him last night, knocking him out cold until this morning. Elric crawled off the carpet and picked up his phone, glancing at the time—6:21 AM. There was still over an hour until he needed to be at work by eight. He casually opened WeChat to check for any important messages, only to spot Cecilia's chat at the top, her avatar displaying a red “1” notification. Right under her name was a line of text: “If you’re sick, get treated.” Elric was bewildered. He had spent the previous night feeling miserable, but all he did was mentally rant about Cecilia. Yet here she was, sending him a message attacking him. He hadn’t even provoked her. The last time they’d been in contact was in high school—what kind of grudge could she hold that would warrant this message all these years later? Is she crazy? With irritation, Elric clicked on Cecilia's chat and saw a message he didn’t want to believe. Time sent: 9:17 PM. That was exactly when he was lost in agony, cursing Cecilia in his mind. Elric: … Suddenly, he felt a wave of dread wash over him. Cecilia's message meant he had inadvertently sent her the very rant he had been directing at her. That thirty-second voice message felt like a bomb lodged in his mind. Just thinking about how profane he had gone made Elric hesitate; he didn’t have the courage to listen to it. So, he became a turtle, hiding in his shell. With a mix of anxiety, embarrassment, and discomfort, Elric took a shower and grabbed a bite to eat before finally pulling out his phone again and opening Cecilia's chat with a grave expression. He couldn’t play the coward forever; he needed Cecilia’s help with the pain connection. He had to face this bomb head-on. Taking a deep breath, he steeled himself, clicking on the voice message while closing his eyes. “Cecilia, you jerk! You’ve put me through hell. Why are you doing this to me? You’re insane!” Just then, Tommy walked in, hearing the tail end of Elric's message. “Elric, who the hell has been messing with you?” Tommy’s eyes widened. Though the voice wasn’t loud, he recognized it as Elric’s. Seeing the weakness in his tone, Tommy exclaimed, “Elric! Are you in a relationship? Is Ronan okay with it?” Ronan Hill, Elric’s manager, was a career-driven woman whose fierce critiques struck fear into everyone around her. Elric instinctively replied, “She doesn’t know.” Realizing the slip, he hurried to clarify, “No, you’re misunderstanding. I’m not in a relationship.” Tommy looked skeptical. “But you just…said that. Your voice was…like that.” With a heavy sigh, Elric felt that Cecilia was a hurdle he could never escape. “Really, it’s just a misunderstanding.” * Elric only had to shoot two scenes today, but both were pivotal. One involved facing off against the antagonist, exposing their deceitful nature in front of the heroine and her parents. The other was a crucial dialogue with the heroine where they resolved their misunderstandings and finally established their relationship. As Elric and Tommy arrived at the Filming Site, the atmosphere felt tense. Crew members kept their heads down, silently focused on their tasks. When they saw Elric, they merely nodded without engaging in conversation. The heroine, Lady Arabella Lark, was a newcomer praised for her pure looks and impressive acting skills, but right now, she sat at her chair, eyes red from recent tears as she read her script. The Director, Assistant Director, and scriptwriter were huddled together, all wearing serious expressions. Sebastian Frost, who played the second lead, sat nearby, typing on his phone, looking less than pleased. Elric walked toward the director, sensing the collective gazes of the crew on him, but he didn’t let it bother him. He had worked with Aldric Moore several times. Aldric was a professional dedicated to mentoring new actors and took his work seriously. Everything he produced was usually top-notch. “Elric.” Aldric didn’t directly answer his unasked question but instead, there was a heaviness in his expression. “You’ve arrived, but I’m afraid filming won’t happen today. You should head back and rest.” Aldric wasn’t keen on discussing it further. He genuinely liked Elric for his talent and hard work, recognizing how far he had come to achieve this level of success.
Chapter 5
Elric Blackwood was determined to preserve his role in the production. “It happened,” Elric thought as he heard Ronan Hill's anxious tone. He knew he was somehow involved in whatever turmoil was brewing. Ronan opened his mouth but hesitated, allowing the screenwriter to jump in first. “Sebastian Frost wants to add a scene.” It wasn’t uncommon for actors in The Ensemble to request additional scenes. Elric had experienced this in other productions too, but usually, if the story wasn’t compromised, the director would let it slide. But Ronan Hill wasn’t rigid in his approach; he’d previously allocated extra scenes to minor actors. However, the way he looked today suggested that Sebastian’s request likely involved his own character. Elric narrowed his eyes. “He wants to shift the lead's storyline to the supporting character instead.” The screenwriter nodded in agreement. “Which scene?” Elric asked. “It's the one where the hero exposes the villain’s scheme.” This scene was crucial for the lead character, who spent the first half of the story enduring various pressures, playing a long game to finally reveal the villain's plot, thereby changing the perception of his character in the eyes of the heroine’s family. If the scene was handed over to the supporting character, it would strip the hero of his moment of glory, reducing him to a coward in the audience's eyes. Elric pondered aloud, “What did Sebastian have to say?” Ronan sighed. “If we don’t alter the script, he’ll withdraw funding.” Sebastian Frost had originally secured the role of the supporting character by funneling a significant amount of his backer's money into the production, effectively becoming the largest investor, holding nearly seventy percent. If he withdrew his financial support, the show would likely collapse. Although they could seek additional financing, it would take time, and many expenses, like venue rentals, equipment, and staff salaries, were already incurred. A lengthy delay could lead to the project’s demise. The Assistant Director chimed in, “If he wants changes, let him have them. Later, we can always find another scene for the hero.” Ronan immediately rejected the idea. “No way. Every clue so far has pointed to the hero—switching it to the supporting character wouldn’t make sense at all.” The Assistant Director felt stung by the abrupt dismissal and sulked to the side. Just then, Sebastian Frost approached, his expression thoughtful. “Ronan, if you’re really feeling pressed, I can talk it over. My brother just texted that he landed me another role I can take in a couple of days.” Sebastian lifted his phone, showcasing the chat screen as if to provide proof of his claim. Elric studied the fleeting profile picture, frowning. He turned to Sebastian and asked, “If you don’t mind me asking, what’s your brother’s name?” Most would have interpreted Elric's inquiry as a dig at Sebastian for relying on his financier, but the young actor took it as flattery—admiring how he had a dependable backer helping him ascend the industry ladder. Sebastian chuckled, “I can't just say, but his last name is Thorne. Do you know him, Elric?” Elric didn't have much experience with Sebastian, but he remembered him as a genuinely warm person. Sebastian wasn’t classically trained; he had dived into The Theatre Realm fueled by passion. They had crossed paths when he was a background actor, and it was back then that Sebastian had shared the ins and outs of being an extra and occasionally lent him a hand. Days later, after wrapping up his own scenes, Elric left The Ensemble without running into Sebastian or getting his contact info. When he next saw Sebastian, it was on set for this production, where he learned Sebastian was playing the supporting role. Elric had thought about greeting him but naturally reconsidered—so much time had passed, and he figured Sebastian might not even remember him or prefer not to bring it up, so he opted not to approach. Two months into filming, they were almost finished, having only chatted during shoot times without further interaction. Elric suspected Sebastian's motivation for changing the script was purely for personal gain, to secure more camera time. He smiled wryly at Sebastian. “How would I know him?” Ronan spoke in a measured tone. “Sebastian, if you really want to expand your role, I can create another scene for you or even give the supporting character a love storyline—” “No, I want the hero's scene.” Sebastian's tone was decisive, clearly unwilling to waver. Elric remained silent, weighing how much he had left in his account should Sebastian’s backer pull out. Could he possibly fill that gap? The screenwriter tried to reason with Sebastian. “If you take his scene, the supporting character will not only miss out on his moment, but the transition would feel fractured. If we create a romance for you, it would firmly establish the supporting character’s softer side. You’re experienced—you know what I mean.” Sebastian’s demeanor softened as he absorbed the praise, and while his attitude lightened, he still insisted on taking Elric's scene. Ronan sighed deeply before the Assistant Director approached Sebastian again. “Hey, Sebastian, why don’t you set up a dinner with your brother? We can discuss the situation.” Sebastian’s brow furrowed, almost instinctively wanting to refuse, but hesitating, he noticed Elric’s quiet presence and shifted his response. “Sure, I’ll talk to him. Though whether he’s willing to join us is another matter.” Once the group dispersed, Tommy found Elric and relayed information about Lady Arabella Lark. Earlier that morning, Lady Arabella Lark had arrived while Sebastian was discussing his script changes with the director. Though she didn’t plan to stay, Sebastian called out to her, questioning whether a modification he wanted was reasonable. Lady Arabella simply blinked in confusion—it was clear they hardly knew each other, and it was obvious that Sebastian was stirring the pot for no reason.
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