He Forced Me to Kowtow 10,000 Times on the Snowy Mountain Chapter 03

He Forced Me to Kowtow 10,000 Times on the Snowy Mountain Chapter 03

A thin sheet of ice coated the Mount Whitney Circumambulation Trail, crunching loudly beneath every step I took.

I pushed Liora ’s wheelchair along the gravel path.

Each time I bent my knees, the scabbed old wounds split open, fresh blood seeping out.

These scars came from three years—they’d split, healed, then torn open again, over and over.

My skin had long since lost its natural elasticity.

Hale trailed two steps behind me. He’d sent someone to bring me knee pads earlier.

“Quit overdoing it. I never told you to haul this wheelchair while your knees are busted.”

One of the scions jeered from behind us. “Hale’s way too soft. If it were me, I’d make her crawl to push it.”

Hale shot the guy a cold glance and replied evenly. “Punishment isn’t torture. It’s meant to drill her lesson into her head.”

Drill her lesson into her head.

I’d heard those words nonstop for three years.

The wind whipped harder around the trail’s bend. I ducked my head and shoved the wheelchair with all my strength.

Liora didn’t glance back, lowering her voice.

“That shell jacket of yours looks pretty thick. How many times did Rian sell plasma just to afford it?”

My footsteps faltered for a split second.

Her tone stayed light and casual. “You reckon it’s worth even half the cost of one pair of my shoes?”

I came to a complete stop.

It wasn’t anger washing over me. My fingers cramped so badly I could barely grip the wheelchair handles.

Hale stepped up beside us. “Why’d you stop?”

Tears welled up in Liora’s eyes, her voice thin and fragile.

“Hale, it’s all my fault. I only wanted to comfort Rynne, I just phrased it wrong and upset her…”

Hale swept his gaze over the two of us, his tone flat and unyielding.

“Rynne, apologize to Liora.”

Apologize to her? For what?

The words caught tight in my throat, unspoken.

It wasn’t that I refused to say it. It simply wouldn’t change a thing.

For three years, this scene repeated endlessly.

Liora would jab at me first, then play the wounded victim for Hale—and every single time, I was the one forced to beg forgiveness.

“What if I refuse to apologize?”

Hale fell silent for several seconds, like he was weighing out some so-called fair compromise. “Then I’ll reassess the winter supply shipment for the youth shelter next month.”

His voice carried a stern, reprimanding edge.

Temperatures dropped to minus thirty degrees up in the mountain each winter. Twenty-seven kids lived in that shelter, the youngest only four years old.

They never owned enough thick blankets, lacked sufficient medicine, and the propane space heater fuel would run out long before spring arrived.

For years, Hale held every resource connected to me hostage under the pretense of atonement.

Whether relief supplies arrived early or late depended entirely on his mood.

I stared at the frozen ground and mumbled. “I’m sorry.”

Liora tilted her head.

“Rynne, the wind’s too loud, I couldn’t hear you.”

“I’m sorry!” I raised my voice sharply.

A satisfied smile tugged at Liora’s lips, as if she’d finally gotten me to bow my head to her.

When she first arrived in Newport, she didn’t own one nice coat layer. I’d given her all my clothes, my contracts, every bit of clout I had within the East Coast Elite Social Circle.

Now nothing pleased her more than watching me grovel at her feet.

She tucked the blanket tighter around her lap and murmured softly.

“Rynne, if you’d just been this obedient from the start, none of this mess would’ve happened.”

The scions chattered behind us, saying I must still be head over heels for Hale, otherwise I’d never submit this easily.

I pushed the wheelchair forward two paces.

“Hale Thorne.”

He hummed a short response.

“All those apologies I’ve given you over the years—have you truly listened to even one of them?”

Gale-force wind tore down the trail, sending the mountain prayer flags flapping wildly.

He offered no reply.

“Forget it. It doesn’t matter anymore.” I turned and kept pushing the wheelchair onward.

It was only four in the afternoon, but daylight faded fast out in the Mount Whitney Backcountry Range.

The second the sun sank behind the peaks, temperatures plummeted to nearly forty below zero.

I wheeled Liora back to the camp tent.

She paused right before stepping inside and glanced over at me, ready to speak—but Hale cut her off first.

He stood framed in the tent entrance, his tone steeped in condescension.

“Rynne.”

His eyes dragged over my frost-blue hands and knees crusted with dried blood, like he was doling out the last scrap of his patience out of charity.

“Drop the attitude. If you behave, I’ll let everything with Liora slide. You won’t have to stress over Rian’s medical bills anymore either.”

My fingers clenched tight without a second thought.

He mistook my rigid posture for hesitation, softening his tone slightly.

“I’ll have my people sort everything out at the medical center. Top-tier specialists, the best pharmaceuticals, we can even negotiate overseas treatment regimens.”

“But only if you stop upsetting Liora.”

Frigid wind rushed straight down my throat, and I could almost taste metallic blood on my tongue.

He tossed all these promises around like they meant nothing.

He had no idea Rian didn’t need doctors or medication anymore.

Liora sat in her wheelchair and gave his sleeve a gentle tug. “Hale, I’m freezing. Let’s go inside.”

The tent flap fell shut behind them.

I stood rooted to the spot, bitter wind slicing down my throat like a dull blade sawing through my chest little by little.

My phone vibrated once in my coat pocket.

The caller ID was the funeral parlor down the mountain.

“Ms. Vey, we’re calling to remind you to come collect your brother Rian Vey’s ashes promptly.”

My knuckles went bone-white from how tight I clutched the phone.

“He left strict instructions before he died that his urn has to go straight to you. He said he still owes you a journey home side by side.”

The line went dead.

I stared out into the swirling snowstorm.

Rian, wait for me. I’m coming to bring you home.