Chapter 182: A Strange Heritage

Mag continued, "Later, we really had no choice. We put you in the cellar, but you kept crying. We tried to distract you with toys, but you wouldn’t pay any attention. We had no choice but to take you to the priest." Mag’s eyes filled with fear as she recalled, "The priest took you in his arms, but when he saw your hairband, his face turned pale." "The priest’s hands trembled, and he dropped you. But you weren’t hurt; you just lay there crying." Shivering, Mag continued, "The priest said that the writing on your hairband was in ancient E-country language, and it meant 'Pure and Evil Lilith.'" "The priest immediately said that Lilith was the original vampire in the Bible, who betrayed God and was behind the serpent’s temptation of Adam to eat the forbidden fruit." Mag could still remember that day vividly. Even though the villagers had built such a spacious and luxurious house for the priest, in her memory, that house felt particularly small and dark. Mag looked at Irene in fear. Who would put something like that on a child’s head? It wasn’t a blessing for peace or a song of hope for the child’s future. What did it mean? Was it a curse? Shaking with fear, Mag continued, "The priest said that we couldn’t sell you, nor could we kill you. He couldn’t guarantee that you wouldn’t come back for revenge if you were killed or burned." "The priest told us to put you back where you came from." Mag added, "We ended up selling that hairband to an antique collector." Irene raised an eyebrow. "Who?" Mag quickly shook her head, saying, "We didn’t know him. We saw him on the street, browsing the antique stalls in the black market. We pulled him aside and asked if he wanted it." "We didn’t know who he was, only that his last name was Ross, and he was from the eastern district of City A." Irene noted the name mentally and then asked calmly, "Why didn’t you return me?" Mag, clearly terrified, replied, "We tried to take you back!" Her voice trembled as she continued, "But every time we tried, something would happen, as if something was watching us, preventing us from going back." "The first time we were about to leave, an eagle swooped down and punctured our car tire." "The second time, after fixing the car, we drove to town, but while Klan went to buy a bottle of water, a gang of thugs smashed the windows and cut the car's wiring." "The third time, and the fourth time, something always happened." "Klan and I were terrified. We decided to just give you to that mistress who was expecting a baby." Mag’s eyes drifted off, clearly recalling the past. "We thought if she could carry the baby to term, she must have good luck, strong enough to keep you in check." "And besides, she wore a necklace with a statue of the Virgin Mary." If Mag hadn’t added that last part, Irene might have believed her. But the sudden addition of that detail made Irene chuckle. "Are you sure that’s the real reason?" Mag backed away until her back was against the wall, her voice trembling as she said, "It’s because she cursed us." Irene smirked. So that was the real reason. And that’s how she ended up living as the eldest daughter in the Kashi family for so many years? Irene then asked, "Where did you take me from?" Mag, almost on instinct, answered, "The capital." She quickly realized her mistake and exclaimed, "You tricked me! You don’t have any childhood memories!" Irene didn’t confirm or deny this; she had already suspected her origins. The reason was simple—she looked too much like Itha. As for whether she was happy about it, Mag couldn’t tell at all. Logically, if the Kashi family had gone bankrupt, and Mag had found out she was the daughter of another wealthy family, she would have been overjoyed. But Irene wasn’t showing any signs of happiness at all. The Norman family from the capital... Irene took a deep breath, slowly exhaling as she processed this information. So, she was the long-lost "Eighth Miss." Just like Itha, who had fought on the battlefield, Irene had always trusted her instincts. When Mag and Klan had first shown up, Irene had felt no emotional reaction. But when they invited her to visit their home, she had an intuition that the truth about her origins might finally be revealed. And it was. Except her initial thoughts of reuniting with her birth parents and living a happy, prosperous life together had vanished completely. Now, all that remained was that suspicious hairband. Even though Irene didn’t understand why she had started recovering memories, certain fragmented images had returned when she saw Mag and Klan’s house and farm. But Irene still hadn’t found out who was behind Klan and Mag’s actions. She looked at Mag and asked calmly, "The Norman family is very wealthy. If you had told them the truth after all the times they came looking for you, you could have gotten at least a hundred million. Why didn’t you tell them the truth?" Mag couldn’t bring herself to meet Irene’s eyes. After everything that had happened over the past few days, and after recalling her memories of the past, Mag was now convinced that Irene was a demon reincarnated! Shaking, she replied, "I—I didn’t think it would be that much money!" Irene didn’t miss the brief moment of greed and hesitation in Mag’s eyes when she heard the amount. Mag had indeed spoken the truth, but not the whole truth. Irene sneered, "Are you sure you want to keep lying to me? Yes, you didn’t think the Norman family would offer you that much money, but there’s only one reason you didn’t tell them: someone else gave you more." Mag shuddered. Irene’s voice softened, as if she were speaking gently to a lover, "Tell me, who?" It definitely wasn’t Joanna! Joanna didn’t have that kind of money. Moreover, according to Irene’s understanding, after reconnecting with the Kashi family, Joanna had saved most of the living expenses that Eli had sent her. She was too frugal to spend on herself, let alone give any to Mag and Klan. Mag’s eyes began to dart around as she started mumbling, "I can’t say, I can’t say... If I say it, I’ll die!" Her voice grew increasingly shrill, eventually breaking, and she looked almost like a demon herself, her face twisted in fear. Irene frowned. What was going on? A curse?