Author: Momo Chan

I, Abigail Graham, and Serena Vance were notorious rivals at the company. We fought over deals at work and, in private, we fought over men. After three years of relentless competition for the same man, I suddenly found it utterly pointless. So, I chose Art Sterling, our new superior, who had actively sought me out. For two years, we loved each other. Our bodies intertwined with an undeniable chemistry. We were on the cusp of marriage. The unexpected news of my pregnancy filled me with such elation; I was eager to share it with Art. But then, in the break room, I overheard his conversation with Serena. “Are you really going to marry Abby, just for me?” Serena’s voice was a soft purr. “It doesn’t matter who I marry, does it? Besides, she’s quite comfortable in bed.” Art chuckled, a casual, almost dismissive sound. “She’s not entirely useless.” “But what if I don’t want her to get off that easy?” Serena pressed, a sly edge to her tone. “Are you willing to let go of Marcus Thorne?” Art’s voice held a knowing note. Serena’s laughter, a light, triumphant trill, echoed in the room. A wave of icy dread washed over me, as if I’d been struck by lightning. My assumed mutual love was nothing but a calculated conspiracy. My mind went blank, swallowed by a boundless, suffocating darkness. I made the decision to terminate the pregnancy. Then, I dialed Marcus Thorne’s number. 1 The doctor held the ultrasound sheet, and I sat across from her, numb. “Yes, you’re pregnant. About a month and a half along. Are you married?” “No.” “Will you keep the baby or not?” “Not keeping it.” “When would you like the procedure?” “As soon as possible.” “Alright, then schedule a time with the assistant physician.” “Okay.” I left the hospital, my steps heavy, my mind a disoriented haze. I called my father. “Dad, the wedding I mentioned to you is off.” My father sounded stunned. “Abby, didn’t you say last time that you and Art had a wonderful relationship? That he was mature, steady, and truly exceptional?” “Did something happen?” I felt a pang of shame. “We broke up.” My father sighed. “Well, if you broke up, you broke up.” “You can find someone else you truly like. You know your mother’s and my thoughts—we hope you’ll stay close to us.” “I know, Dad. I’ll consider it.” “I’m sorry to make you worry.” After hanging up, I sat alone on the sofa, staring into space. The sound of the door opening broke my reverie. Art was home. He leaned in, hugging me, pressing a kiss to my cheek. His voice was laced with an irritating cheerfulness. “What reason did you give for taking time off this afternoon?” “You wouldn’t tell me. Why are you sitting in the living room, staring into space?” The memory of his conversation with Serena flashed through my mind, and I gently pulled away from his embrace. “I just felt a bit unwell, so I came home early.” His expression shifted, clearly showing concern. “Unwell? Why didn’t you tell me?” “Are you feeling better now?” “Should we go to the hospital?” I scrutinized the man before me, carefully examining his face. His features were etched with what looked like genuine worry and care. If I hadn’t overheard that conversation, who would have ever guessed it was all a charade? “Art, I’m pregnant.” At my words, a flicker of discomfort instantly crossed his face, quickly followed by a wide, beaming smile. “Really? That’s wonderful!” he exclaimed, his voice too loud, too forced. “It seems we’ll have to speed up our wedding plans.” That brief, almost imperceptible flicker of discomfort I’d caught was now seared into my mind. So, I hadn’t misheard. He really was marrying me for Serena. His entire approach to me was merely to clear away the obstacles in his true love’s path. How incredibly noble of him, sacrificing himself for the woman he adored! But why did I have to be the sacrifice? Was playing people like this truly so satisfying? I lowered my head, nodding slightly. Then I asked the question that had been hovering, a persistent ache in my chest. “Art, do you love me?” He stroked my hair, his touch a familiar comfort that now felt like a betrayal. “Of course I love you!” “If I didn’t love you, why would I want to marry you?” I closed my eyes. “Then… is there anything you’ve been keeping from me?” “Or, to put it another way, have you lied to me?” His cheek twitched almost imperceptibly. “How could I ever lie to you?” “I love you too much for that. We’re going to be together forever.” I let out a soft, hollow laugh. I had given him a chance, but he insisted on continuing the deception. Then he had no one to blame but himself. There would be a wedding, alright. Just not our wedding. 2 In the conference room, Art spoke first. “Abby, what’s the progress on the Starlight project?” “I’ve scheduled a meeting with Mr. Evans from Starlight tonight. There are still a few concession points to finalize.” The Starlight project was one I had pursued for two months before finally securing a meeting with Mr. Evans. Essentially, once Mr. Evans gave his nod, the contract could be signed immediately. Serena had initially been in charge of the project, but it had made no headway in the three months it was in her hands. Art had then transferred it to me. Her face had been livid at the time; I never found out how Art compensated her afterwards. As I mentally sorted through these convoluted relationships, Art’s voice cut in. “Serena and I will accompany you to the dinner tonight.” I stared at him, stunned. Him accompanying me, I could understand; he was my superior, after all. But bringing Serena along? What did that mean? Was she trying to snatch my project? Now, of all times? A wave of confusion washed over me. Mr. Evans had a known preference in the industry: he loved to drink, always wanting to have a good time. However, his wife strictly controlled his alcohol intake, making it notoriously difficult to schedule non-essential business dinners with him. The high-end private room was filled with seven or eight people, the atmosphere harmonious. Art was the first to raise his glass. “Mr. Evans, it’s truly our honor to have you here tonight.” “Abby here has an excellent tolerance for alcohol. At our company, she’s known for being able to drink anyone under the table.” “With her accompanying you tonight, I’m sure you’ll have a thoroughly enjoyable time.” My fingers, gripping the wine glass, turned white at the knuckles. I had told him just the day before that I was pregnant. It hadn’t even registered with him; he showed no regard for the child I carried, his child. Well, it didn’t matter. I wasn’t planning on keeping this baby anyway, otherwise I wouldn’t have scheduled this meeting with Mr. Evans. But the wine tonight was particularly foul. The combination of morning sickness and the alcohol’s bite made me feel waves of nausea, threatening to overwhelm me. Mr. Evans seemed to notice my discomfort. “Is Ms. Graham unwell?” I swallowed down the rising bile, about to speak, when Serena cut me off. “This little bit of wine is nothing for Ms. Graham.” “Wouldn’t you agree, Ms. Graham?” “How about I have a drink with Mr. Evans instead?” She moved to raise her glass, but Art’s hand covered it. “Mr. Evans, you might not know this, but Serena is allergic to alcohol.” “So, I’ll drink this one for her.” He raised his glass and downed it in one go, then displayed the empty glass to everyone. I had already chugged over a dozen glasses, and he hadn’t offered to take a single one for me. Yet the moment Serena even thought about raising her glass, he intervened. Indeed, love and indifference were starkly visible. I silently swallowed the bitterness in my heart. Art’s voice continued. “Mr. Evans, let Serena handle the subsequent details for our company. Ms. Graham here is getting married soon and might not have the time to oversee the project anymore.” My head snapped up, my gaze locking onto Art. So that was it. They had truly come tonight for the project in my hands. Mr. Evans’s eyes widened in surprise, then he offered an understanding smile. “Is that so? Well, congratulations, Ms. Graham. Life’s big events should certainly take precedence.” As the client, it didn’t really matter which account manager they signed the contract with, as long as the service was high-quality, efficient, and the costs were minimized. A look of triumph flashed across Serena’s face, her smile broad and brazen. My insides, however, churned with turmoil. Art’s flippant words had just undone months of my hard work. I had done the legwork, and the fruit was almost ripe, only to have someone else steal it. This was beyond enduring. So, I spoke up, my voice firm. “Mr. Evans, our boss is just joking!” “It’s just a wedding; it can definitely be postponed. Work still needs to come first.” “I prefer to finish what I start.” “I’ll continue to handle the follow-up work. There’s no need to trouble Serena.” Sure enough, Art’s face darkened, his brow furrowing as he glared at me. I met his gaze squarely, unflinching. Though this little spat had erupted, for Mr. Evans, it was all just a show. 3 After seeing Mr. Evans off, I could no longer suppress the retching in my throat. I rushed to the restroom and emptied my stomach, dry-heaving violently. When I emerged from the restroom, Serena was already settled in the passenger seat of Art’s car. From outside, I could clearly see Serena leaning her head close to Art. They were sharing some delightful secret, and Serena was laughing, her body shaking with mirth. As I got into the car, they abruptly cut off their conversation. Art deliberately took a detour to drop Serena off at her place. As she left, Serena shot me a dismissive, condescending smirk. I wondered where she found such confidence. Did she truly believe that because Art loved her, she could walk all over me? Back home, Art tossed his suit jacket onto the sofa, clearly agitated. “Giving the project to Serena was a company decision.” “On one hand, it’s for our wedding.” “On the other, Serena initiated this project. It’s just returning it to its rightful owner.” What pompous nonsense. Since when was stealing someone else’s hard work spun as something so righteous? “Serena started the project, yes, but she made zero progress for months, which is why it was handed to me.” “Now that it’s on the verge of signing, you’re saying it’s hers again? Do you think that’s fair to me?” “So, whose decision was this, really? The company’s, or yours?” His expression grew sheepish. “Aren’t we getting married soon?” “I was worried you’d be too busy with wedding preparations. Someone needs to follow up on the project, right?” “Besides, aren’t you pregnant? You should focus on taking care of yourself.” I scoffed inwardly. He didn’t think about my pregnancy when he was pushing me to drink. But now, when he needed an excuse for his outrageous behavior, he suddenly remembered. What was there to love about a man who didn’t even consider me? If he wanted to be Serena’s desperate lapdog, let him. Better yet, let them chain themselves together and spare everyone else their toxicity. Seeing my face still cold, he wrapped his arms around me from behind. “Still upset?” “I’m sorry, alright?” “My Abby is the most capable woman in the world, a true power player.” “She doesn’t need my protection at all.” Had he ever protected me? What a grand delusion. I’d thought the project transfer from Serena to me was a sign of his trust, but it was just a trap laid in advance. I was about to push him away when his phone rang. He quickly released me to answer. I heard a woman’s faint, broken sobs from the receiver. I glanced at the caller ID; it read ‘Serena’. I heard him whisper softly, “Don’t cry.” “Okay.” “I’ll be there soon.” He hung up, hastily grabbed his jacket, and moved to leave. As he reached the door, he seemed to remember to tell me. “My sister was bullied by her friends at school. I’m going to check on her.” “Get some rest tonight. Don’t wait up for me.” Before I could even speak, the door slammed shut. I stood rigidly in the living room, unmoving for a long time. His lie was so transparent, so pathetic. Art didn’t return all night. The next day, I saw Serena’s post on social media. [Heartbroken, but at least someone’s here for me…] The accompanying photo showed two hands intertwined, a larger hand cradling a smaller one. I examined it closely; it was Art’s hand. Though he wore no rings or watch, I recognized it immediately. For at least a year, that was the hand I’d held as I drifted to sleep. Serena truly moved on seamlessly. I wondered why Marcus Thorne had broken up with her. The next day, I went to the hospital and had the embryo removed. Before the procedure, I made a request to the doctor. “Doctor, can I have the embryo?” She looked surprised. “It’s already terminated. What do you want it for?” “It will breed bacteria!” I smiled, a cold, empty smile. “To do a DNA test. To see who the father is.” The doctor stared at me, dumbfounded, for a long moment, speechless. I guessed she was thinking, How chaotic must your private life be if you don’t even know who the father of your baby is? I shrugged, uncaring. Afterwards, I dialed Marcus Thorne’s number.

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My five-year-old daughter is a compulsive liar. I took her shopping for school supplies, but in the middle of the street, she shrieked that I was a kidnapper, nearly getting me hauled to the police precinct for questioning. When we got home, before I could say a word, she burst into tears and launched herself into my husband’s arms, pouring out her fabricated grievances. “Daddy, Mommy wouldn’t buy me stationery, and she even hit me on the street!” I tried to explain my side to my husband, Rob, but to my shock, after listening, he exploded in a rage and slapped me across the face. “She’s only five years old! How could she possibly lie? How can you be so cruel to your own daughter!” Later, when I took our daughter to school, she knelt before me in front of all the other parents. “Mommy, please let me go to school! I don’t want to take revealing pictures for those men to see!” The teacher grabbed my phone and found it filled with inappropriate, suggestive photos of my daughter. Enraged parents shoved me into oncoming traffic, and I was instantly run over, my body flattened into a gruesome mess. Until my last breath, I couldn’t understand why the daughter I had carried for nine months would do such a thing. Then I opened my eyes, and I was back on the day I took my daughter to buy school supplies. 1 “Lily, Daddy and Mommy are going to take you to buy school supplies soon. We’ll make sure our Lily is the happiest little princess ever!” Our daughter, Lily, rejected Rob’s offer without a second thought. Instead, she came over and tugged on my sleeve. “Daddy, I want to go shopping with Mommy. All the other kids have their moms with them. Can you come shopping with me too, Mommy?” Lily had been living with my in-laws in a remote town since she was little, and she had only recently come home. With her making such a request, how could Rob refuse? “Honey, I’ll send you some extra money in a bit. Buy whatever Lily wants.” Rob said, his voice laced with indulgence. “She’s still so young. We’ve really let her down before.” Hearing those familiar words, my heart felt like it was being squeezed by a giant, invisible hand, stealing my breath. A chilling realization washed over me: I had been reborn. In my previous life, I had listened to Rob’s words, happily taking Lily to the mall to buy school supplies. But once we were there, Lily insisted on buying a razor-sharp craft knife. I told her the knife was too dangerous. Lily promised she’d be careful, even volunteering that little kids shouldn’t touch knives. My heart swelled with relief, and worried that she didn’t feel close to me, having grown up away, I took her to play some games. But as soon as we reached the mall entrance, Lily plopped herself onto the ground. She screamed, a heart-wrenching, ear-splitting wail: “Don’t take me away! Help me! She’s a kidnapper!” The mall was packed. Hearing her desperate cries, people rushed over, forming a curious crowd. I desperately tried to explain, and finally, a few people seemed to soften, on the verge of believing me. But the next second, Lily pointed at me and shouted, “She really is a kidnapper! She’s trying to abduct me!” The furious onlookers quickly called the police. I was taken to the precinct for questioning and only released much later. I couldn’t understand why my daughter, who was so well-behaved at home, would tell such a brazen lie in public. I was furious, determined to teach her a lesson. But when I got home, before I could even open my mouth, her first action was to throw herself into Rob’s arms and accuse me. 2 “Daddy, save me! Waaah, I wanted the superhero stationery, but Mommy wouldn’t buy it, and she hit me!” “It hurts so much, it hurts!” Rob lifted Lily’s sleeve, his face instantly contorting in horror as he saw several purplish bruises on her arm. I gasped, about to ask what had happened. Rob angrily put Lily down and slapped me hard across the face. “Do you even act like a mother?! How could you hit your own child?!” I desperately tried to explain. “She’s lying! Those injuries aren’t from me!” I was about to tell Rob that Lily had lied about me being a kidnapper at the mall, getting me taken to the precinct. But he didn’t believe a word, cutting me off and launching into a furious tirade. “She’s only five years old! How could she possibly lie?! How can you be so cruel to your own daughter?!” Because of this, Rob even cut off my household allowance. My heart sank, utterly despondent, and I stopped trying to explain, instead quietly tucking away a seed of suspicion. I thought this incident was just a fluke. But then, as I was taking Lily to school, she actually knelt before me at the school gate. “Mommy, please let me go to school! I don’t want to take revealing pictures for those men to see!” I froze, stunned. Before I could react, the kindergarten teacher rushed forward, digging into my shoulder bag and pulling out a stack of photos. Written on the back of the photos were names, presumably of buyers. The teacher gasped, hugging Lily protectively as she glared at me. “How could you treat your own daughter like this? You’re an animal!” Before I could explain, the enraged parents shoved me into the middle of the road, where I was instantly run over, my body crushed beyond recognition. In my dying moments, Lily’s malicious gaze flashed before my eyes. It was a look no five-year-old girl should possess. I died without ever understanding why the daughter I had carried for nine months hated me so much. Yet, every night, when I held her to sleep, she would hug my arm, gently kiss my cheek, and whisper, “Mommy, I love you the most.” Since I had been reborn, I was determined to find out exactly what was going on. Thinking this, I glanced at Rob, who was preparing to work from home. “Honey, Lily just got back. Why don’t you drive us there?” Since he believed our child couldn’t lie, this time, I would let him witness firsthand how she manipulated the truth. Rob agreed without a second thought. At the mall, Lily hopped out of the car, and Rob stayed in the car, waiting for us. “I just got a notification. I have some work to take care of. You two go ahead and shop. You can just come back here afterward.” I nodded, taking Lily’s hand as she skipped into the stationery store. Just like in my previous life, the moment Lily saw the craft knife, she pounced on it. “Mommy, I want this one! It has a design on it! Can we buy this, please?” 3 I shook my head, squatting down to reason with Lily. “This craft knife is too sharp, darling. Mommy will go ask if they have another one just like it, but not so sharp, okay?” Lily’s gaze was pure, and for a moment, my heart softened. Soon, with the help of a sales associate, I bought an identical craft knife that wasn’t sharpened. Lily happily held her new stationery, flashing me a sweet smile. “Thank you, Mommy! You’re the best!” Perhaps, in my previous life, it was simply because I hadn’t bought her what she wanted that she acted that way? Now that I had fulfilled her wish, she would surely grow closer to me. Watching Lily behave completely normally on our way, I breathed a sigh of relief. But I never expected that as soon as we reached a crowded area, she would wrench her hand free from mine and scream. “Help! She’s a kidnapper! She’s trying to abduct me!” In that instant, my heart completely froze. I had wondered countless times in my previous life if Lily’s cry of “kidnapper” was just a fit of pique. And since she had grown up with my in-laws in the countryside, perhaps my mother-in-law had casually used the term to scare Lily into behaving, and Lily had simply remembered it and reacted that way. But now, I had already given her what she wanted, and she still… At the words “kidnapper,” everyone turned to stare. Soon, people approached, their faces wary, asking what was happening. “She’s a kidnapper! She’s trying to abduct me! Help me!” Before I could answer, Lily sat on the ground and screamed, tears streaming down her face. Lily was so young, and her crying seemed to convince many people. “How could such a small child lie? What exactly are you doing?” “Don’t even think about running! We’ve already called the police. You’ll be going to the precinct when they get here.” A few men even rushed forward, intending to hold me down. Just then, a familiar figure appeared in the crowd. My eyes lit up, and I shouted, “Rob, quick, explain to everyone!” In an instant, all eyes turned to Rob Maxwell. Earlier, while Lily was picking out stationery, I had sent Rob a message asking him to bring us some coffee. Now that Rob was here, everyone assumed he was my accomplice and swarmed him. Seeing this, Lily’s sobs suddenly quieted, a look of bewilderment on her face. Rob, seeing the situation, grew even more anxious than I was. He struggled to explain to the bewildered onlookers that we were a family. In the end, he was also taken to the precinct for questioning by the quickly arriving police. 4 Rob emerged from the precinct, his face dark with fury. The moment he entered the house, he lunged to hit Lily. “Are you out of your mind?! Why did you tell everyone out there that we were kidnappers?!” Rob’s face was livid with anger. He slapped Lily’s bottom, making her yelp and burst into tears. Watching the scene, I felt a surge of satisfaction. He used to constantly accuse me of scolding our daughter. Now that it was his turn, why couldn’t he grasp that same logic? I quickly pulled Lily into my arms, stroking her head to comfort her. “Honey, she’s just a child, playing around. Why are you getting so angry?” “What if you hurt Lily?” Rob’s hands trembled as he pointed at Lily. “Do you have any idea what kind of trouble her lies have caused? One of my most important clients was just there, and after seeing that, he’s ready to terminate our partnership. How am I supposed to explain this to my boss?!” “And you’re still protecting her right now! Who knows what else she’ll do in the future?!” So that was it. His work was affected. No wonder he was so furious when he came home today. I cut him off, uncaring. “It’s just one client. We finally got Lily back home. You shouldn’t be so harsh on her.” “And why are you speaking so harshly? She’s just a child, it’s not that serious.” With that, I hugged Lily, my eyes filled with disdain as I looked at him. “Are you just trying to blame Lily because you messed up your own work?” Didn’t he think a five-year-old child couldn’t lie? In my previous life, before I could even explain to Rob, he blamed everything on me. These were the very words he had thrown at me before, and now I returned them to him, word for word. How does it feel to be falsely accused, Rob? Rob’s eyes blazed with fury, but in the end, he simply turned and stormed off. “Just keep spoiling her then!” I stroked Lily’s head, comforting her. “It’s okay, it’s okay. Mommy will take you to school tomorrow.” Lily looked at me, her eyes wide with fear, clearly scared of me. A flicker of doubt crossed my mind. I hadn’t done anything, so why was she so terrified? Rob must have been truly infuriated by me; he didn’t return home until nightfall. After tucking Lily into bed, I began searching the house. In my previous life, when I took Lily to school, Ms. Davies had pulled those photos from my bag. The photos must have been taken beforehand, and they had to be hidden somewhere in the house now. I searched every room and finally found a metal box with a combination lock under Lily’s bed. I tried Lily’s birthday—wrong. Then I tried Rob’s birthday—and the box clicked open. Opening the box, I froze. The mystery that had plagued me for two lifetimes was finally revealed. I finally understood why my daughter had so meticulously plotted to kill me.

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Upon learning of my first love’s death, my wife, on our honeymoon cruise, leaped overboard, ending her life. It was then I truly understood: she had never let go of Brandon Stone. Reborn into our teenage years, she resolutely pulled her hand from mine and walked purposefully toward her first love. I watched them disappear, then turned and walked away. From that moment, our lives became two parallel lines, destined never to intersect. Ten years later, we met again at a gala in Metropolis City. She was now a rising star among the elite, her arm intimately linked with Brandon’s as they made their grand entrance. When she saw me pushing through the crowd, searching for someone, she couldn’t help but offer me advice. “Why are you still so fixated on me? Even if you waited ten years, I would never love you.” I ignored her, pulling my son, covered in cake frosting, from a secluded corner. Her eyes suddenly reddened. She gripped my arm tightly, her voice laced with desperation. “Are you deliberately trying to provoke me? Didn’t you say you’d only love me, for this lifetime?” 1 I never imagined that in this lifetime, I would ever cross paths with Sylvia Hart again. At the city’s elite gala, she stood amidst the crowd, arm entwined with Brandon Stone’s, her smile elegant and refined, bearing no trace of the naive girl she once was. Those around them fawned, their voices thick with flattery. “Ms. Hart is truly a force to be reckoned with! So young, and already securing a provincial project. Your future is boundless!” “And this must be your beloved, a truly stunning couple! So enviable!” Brandon gazed at Sylvia with a look of profound affection, his voice soft. “We’re planning to marry by the end of the year. If you’re free, everyone is welcome to attend the wedding reception.” Another wave of congratulations rippled through the room. Then someone, perhaps a bit too bold, asked, “I heard you two have been together for ten years. Why are you only marrying now?” That was a question that piqued my own curiosity. In my previous life, Sylvia loved Brandon so intensely that she chose to die with him. After being reborn, she immediately broke up with me. I had assumed they would marry right after graduation, but it seemed they still hadn’t tied the knot. At the question, an almost imperceptible stiffness flickered across Sylvia’s face. She quickly covered it with a forced smile. “Career first, then family, right? I want to give Brandon the best life possible.” She looked at Brandon, her eyes overflowing with tender adoration. In my previous life, when she was with me, I had proposed several times. It was only when her family pressured her that Sylvia reluctantly agreed to marry me. Love, or the lack thereof, could truly be so glaringly obvious. I was about to turn and leave when my eyes caught sight of a small figure. My body instinctively followed. “Smash!” Champagne splattered across the floor. The server, holding a tray, glared at me, his face a mask of annoyance. “Where did you sneak in from? Are you blind?!” His voice wasn’t quiet, drawing the attention of everyone nearby. Seeing my face, Sylvia’s eyes widened in shock. “Ethan Cole, what are you doing here?” I lowered my head, apologizing to the server, and explained, “I’m here looking for someone.” Someone in the crowd, curious, asked Sylvia, “Ms. Hart, do you know him?” Sylvia’s hand, holding her wine glass, tightened imperceptibly. Her gaze hardened. “Yes, he’s an ex-boyfriend.” Someone nearby, too quick with their tongue, blurted out, “You two were together for ten years! I thought you were each other’s first loves!” A subtle chill entered Brandon’s smile. He clasped Sylvia’s hand, his voice dismissive. “We were young back then, just a minor spat, separated for a short while. Who hasn’t taken a wrong turn in their youth?” Sylvia remained silent, her gaze skimming over me and landing on the server. “Charge the damages to my account. Let him go.” She stood there, her expression calm. Aside from that initial shock, she didn’t spare me a single extra glance. It seemed she wanted to draw a clear line between herself and me—that “wrong turn” in front of Brandon. The server immediately began pushing me towards the exit. “Ms. Hart is being kind, cleaning up your mess. But there won’t be a next time.” He glanced at my crumpled pajamas, a look of disdain on his face. “This isn’t your kind of place. Get out, now.” I pulled my arm free from his grip, trying to remain polite. “I’m looking for someone. Once I find them, I’ll leave on my own.” The server scoffed, rolling his eyes. “I’ve seen plenty of opportunists like you trying to climb the social ladder. Do you even have the right to be in a gala like this? If you don’t leave now, I’ll call security!” “Wait.” Sylvia’s voice carried from behind him. She lifted the hem of her gown, looking at me with a sigh, her expression resigned. “He’s here for me. Let me talk to him.” Brandon stood beside her, his arm draped possessively over her shoulder. “Ethan Cole, Sylvia and I are getting married soon. I think anyone with a shred of decency wouldn’t be bothering an ex at a time like this.” Sylvia’s face paled slightly. She couldn’t help but try to persuade me. “Why are you still so fixated on me? Even if you waited ten years, I would never love you.” She paused, a hint of bitterness in her tone. “My relationship with you back then was just a mistake. I’ve finally been given a chance to correct that mistake, and I hope you can let go of the past sooner rather than later.” Brandon scrutinized me from head to toe, a sneer of mockery in his eyes. “I can understand why you’d still come looking for Sylvia. After all, things are different now. She’s a well-known entrepreneur, and she’s bound to attract people trying to cozy up to her.” Perhaps my crumpled pajamas gave him confidence. Brandon, nose in the air, added, “You’re from a good university, aren’t you? How did you end up like this? If I were you, I’d be too ashamed to show my face!” Sylvia frowned, pulled out her phone, and a hint of impatience entered her voice. “If you feel I wronged you when we broke up, I can compensate you now. Will five hundred thousand be enough?” Her fingers moved across the screen, then suddenly froze. “You… you deleted me from your contacts?” 2 I was a little puzzled, not understanding why she reacted so strongly. Deleting an ex after a breakup—isn’t that perfectly normal? Moreover, I had someone at home who was incredibly possessive. If she found out I still kept an ex’s contact information, she’d probably give me hell for days. “Didn’t you say you hoped I wouldn’t come looking for you after we broke up?” Sylvia’s face hardened. She seemed to want to say something but held back. I added, my voice flat, “And a severance payment isn’t necessary. I don’t need it.” Frustrated repeatedly, Sylvia’s expression worsened. She said coldly, “Why are you still putting on airs in front of me? If you weren’t so pathetic right now, I wouldn’t even bother speaking to you.” Brandon gently comforted her. “Sylvia, you’re just too kind. If you ask me, why bother with a man like him? Look at his disheveled state, he’s a hopeless case!” His tone was scornful, as if he’d forgotten that ten years ago, he was far more disreputable than I was. In my previous life, the reason Sylvia’s family initially disapproved of her relationship with Brandon was because he was an uneducated delinquent with a criminal record. The first time I met Sylvia in college, she had just bailed Brandon out of the precinct, and her family was pressuring her to break up with him. During Sylvia’s lowest period, I stayed by her side, helping her through it. She loved photography, so I used the money I had originally saved for my startup to buy her thousands of dollars worth of equipment. Through winter and summer, I carried dozens of pounds of gear behind her, just hoping to see her smile genuinely. Who would have thought that Sylvia was the one who confessed her feelings to me first? I knew about her past with Brandon, and I had seen her occasionally staring blankly at their old photos. So, when Sylvia confessed, I asked her very seriously: Had she truly moved on from Brandon Stone? At the time, she held me tightly, her voice firm. “That’s the past. I’ve long since realized who truly cares about me. Ethan, I love you. Let’s be together.” We dated for seven years, even her best friend couldn’t help but express surprise. “She was so infatuated with Brandon. I never thought you two would last.” But no one knew that Sylvia had privately rejected my proposals countless times. “Ethan, I don’t believe in marriage. Couldn’t we just be together like this forever?” It wasn’t until Sylvia’s parents pressured her intensely that she finally agreed to marry. During our honeymoon, news arrived of Brandon’s accidental death in a car crash. She leaped from the cruise ship, leaving behind only a suicide note. The note was entirely filled with her love for Brandon, not a single word for me. At the end, she had written in her own blood: “Brandon, all my life, I only ever wanted to be your bride. Now, I’m coming to find you.” My love for her, in that moment, turned completely to ash. So, when Sylvia wanted to break up with me after being reborn, I didn’t stop her. Because I knew, I couldn’t stop her. Watching them get back together, I deleted all of Sylvia’s contact information, believing we would never meet again in this lifetime. I never expected to encounter her here. I wanted to leave, but Brandon wouldn’t let up, insisting on humiliating me in front of everyone. “You certainly went to great lengths to get with Sylvia. Looking at you, dressed like that, you probably don’t even have a steady job.” “How about this? I’ll get you a job as a server here. If you learn how to cater to people, you could earn a five-figure salary a month.” Someone nearby, wanting to curry favor, chuckled and added, “This is a hotel in a prime location in Metropolis City! Being able to work here is a stroke of luck for you. Hurry up and thank Mr. Stone!” I was surrounded, unable to leave for the moment. Resigned, I said, “Thank you, but I already have a job.” “It’s photography.” The word “photography” hung in the air. Sylvia immediately looked at me, a complex emotion flashing in her eyes. Her lips parted slightly. She then turned her head away, her voice cool. “How much can photography earn? Hobbies don’t fill your stomach. Since we’re all familiar, I can arrange a job for you.” I was taken aback, immediately realizing she had misunderstood. 3 My love for photography wasn’t because I still harbored feelings for Sylvia. In fact, when I read that suicide note in my previous life, I had completely given up all hope. It was simply that when I was reborn, I found that the money had already been spent on photography equipment. It wouldn’t sell on second-hand platforms, so I had no choice but to pick it up and use it myself. As it turned out, I actually fell in love with photography. This time, I wasn’t doing it to please anyone else, but purely for myself. I politely declined Sylvia’s offer again, my tone courteous yet distant. “My hobby provides enough for my living expenses. Thank you for your concern.” Seeing my apparent ingratitude, a flicker of anger crossed Sylvia’s face. “You don’t want the opportunity I’m giving you? Don’t come crying to me later!” I didn’t say anything. I also didn’t tell her that my photography work was now exclusively published in several national and top international journals. All the copyright fees added up to no less than Sylvia’s income. But if I told her, she would probably think I was bragging. After all, my crumpled pajamas certainly made me look shabby. Speaking of which, it was all Noah’s fault. He insisted on dragging me to play in the sandbox, and the moment I turned my back, he slipped downstairs. I hadn’t even had time to change before I chased after him. I was just about to find an excuse to leave when the server from before seemed to notice something. He pointed at my clothes. “Balenciaga? Where did you pick up that outfit? You’re not, like, a cleaner here, stealing from a guest’s room, are you?” I couldn’t help but frown. “Can’t these just be my own clothes?” Brandon scoffed, a sneer on his face. “Yours? Can you even afford them? What kind of rich person would run around dressed so casually like that?” He feigned covering his nose dramatically. “So dirty, you probably put them on without even washing them.” Sylvia looked at me, her brow furrowed so deeply it could have caught a fly. “Ethan Cole, you’ve really fallen so low, and you’re still trying to be stubborn?” I didn’t want to deal with them, so I addressed the server directly. “If you genuinely think I stole something, you’re welcome to call the police right now.” I knew he was trying to curry favor with Brandon, seeing his displeasure with me. Sure enough, his bravado instantly deflated, and he mumbled, “If it weren’t for the important guests at the hotel today, and fearing you people might disturb them, I would have called the police already.” Brandon’s eyes lit up, and he quickly interjected, “Is it Ms. Reed, the Reed heiress? I heard she’s here in Metropolis City with her family, staying at this very hotel.” Sylvia nodded, her eyes showing a hint of anticipation. “The project our company is working on would be perfect with the Reed family’s support.” The words “Ms. Reed, the Reed heiress” were like water poured into hot oil, immediately sparking a fervent discussion. “Aren’t we here at this gala today precisely to meet Ms. Reed?” “I heard she got married and had a child in her early twenties. I wonder which prominent family she allied with.” As everyone discussed, the hotel manager, drenched in sweat, rushed in, followed by a team of staff. “Ladies and gentlemen, has anyone seen a seven-year-old boy, about this tall?” The manager wiped his brow, his gaze frantically sweeping the hall. Someone quick-witted, seeing the grand commotion, immediately guessed. “Is it the young master of the Reed family? I heard he’s seven this year.” The gala guests grew enthusiastic, immediately fanning out to search. After all, finding him could be their chance to connect with the powerful Reed family. Sylvia and Brandon also joined the search, no longer bothering with me. I looked at the chaotic hall and walked straight to the dessert area. Sure enough, beneath the table, I found my son, Noah, his face smeared with cream. I extended my hand, my expression stern. “Come here.” Noah flinched, hugging the table leg, refusing to let go. “No.” I was about to pull him over when Brandon, emerging from nowhere, blocked my path, his voice righteous. “Ethan Cole, what are you doing?!” “Even if you want to curry favor with the Reed family, you don’t have to resort to laying hands on a child, do you?” Sylvia rushed over, her eyes filled with disappointment as she looked at me. “Ethan Cole, I can’t believe you’d do something like this for fame and fortune.” The server grabbed the manager, complaining. “This man, he suddenly stormed into the gala and even stole clothes from other guests!” The manager’s face immediately darkened. He called security. “Seize this thief and take him straight to the police station! If he frightens the young master, you’ll all be out of a job!” A triumphant smile flickered in Brandon’s eyes. He bent down, putting on a benevolent face for the Reed family’s young master. “Come here, to Uncle. Uncle will protect you.” Noah ignored him completely. To everyone’s astonishment, he carefully reached for my hand. “Daddy, I know I was wrong.”

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My father was the most renowned chef in the surrounding towns and villages, his Succulent Roast Lamb legendary for its golden-crisp skin and melt-in-your-mouth tenderness, a dish everyone craved. Lady Meredith, the favored companion of Duke Alaric, heard tales of its exquisite taste. She summoned my father to Alaric Manor, specifically requesting his famous roast lamb. When they threw him out, his flesh was scorched and charred, a grotesque mockery of the dish he was known for. It turned out Lady Meredith had a sudden, cruel whim: she wanted a roast lamb that tasted of absolutely nothing like lamb. My mother, when she knew, didn’t shed a single tear. But three months later, she set up a large cauldron outside Alaric Manor and began selling lamb broth. 1 The second month after my father died, my mother took the last of our meager savings to Granny Willow’s small cottage in the quiet alleyway. Granny Willow was a peculiar woman, rumored to possess a knack for restoring a woman’s youthful radiance, making them appear as if untouched by time or trouble. Though they said the process was agonizingly painful; one young lady was said to have screamed all night, nearly losing her life. But Mother, when she returned, didn’t utter a single cry of pain. Only her face was a little pale. She called me to her side. “Alice,” she said, her voice soft but firm, “from now on, you must call me sister, not mother. Do you understand why?” I nodded. “I understand.” Mother smiled, praising my understanding. She took me to Kingsport, finding a dilapidated old townhouse to settle into. Then, on the grand thoroughfare in front of the formidable Alaric Manor, she set up her large cauldron and began selling lamb broth. 2 My mother learned her way with lamb from my father. He was the most celebrated chef in the entire county, and his masterpiece was his Succulent Roast Lamb. Though others roasted lamb, my father’s always had a flavor that sank deeper, a crispy skin and meat so tender it melted on the tongue, rich and aromatic without a trace of gaminess. Even those who swore they disliked lamb would find themselves taking bite after delicious bite, unable to stop. When my father cooked, my mother would quietly assist him in the back. Most tavern owners’ wives would be out front, greeting customers and drumming up business, but my mother never showed her face. I knew why: my mother was simply too beautiful, her beauty a magnet for trouble. And we were just common folk, without influence or protection in this world; we could only hope to avoid trouble, never confront it. My father’s only moment of public renown came when word of his unmatched roast lamb reached the Duke’s Estate. They invited him to cook for Duke Alaric. My father beamed, telling my mother, “The reward money for this will be substantial! I’ll buy you a few new gowns in Kingsport, and even have a pair of pure gold rabbit charms made for Alice’s dowry.” I adored little rabbits, so I immediately threw my arms around my father. “Rabbits! I want rabbits!” My father chuckled, scooping me onto his back and galloping around the house. My mother followed, laughing as she tried to stop him. “Careful now! Don’t drop the child!” Those days felt like a dream now. If only I had known, I wouldn’t have asked for the rabbits. I would have just asked for my father. … My father was thrown out of the back gate of Alaric Manor by the Duke’s servants. The busy street was filled with people coming and going, yet not a single soul dared to approach him. For he was already a charred husk, his skin black and peeling, blood and pus oozing from the raw, gaping wounds. Finally, a kind old neighbor, Silas, found him under the cover of night and brought him back on a simple cart. Silas wept as he cursed, “It was Lady Meredith! All her doing…” Meredith. What a lovely name. She was Duke Alaric’s newest favored companion, renowned as Kingsport’s most beautiful woman. When this beauty heard of my father’s skill with roast lamb, she asked him, “I hear you can roast lamb until it has not a hint of gaminess?” My father answered truthfully, “Lady Meredith can rest assured, the lamb will be perfectly savory, with no gaminess at all.” Meredith’s smile suddenly vanished. “Then can it taste of nothing like lamb?” she asked. My father offered a placating smile. “But if it is roast lamb, how can it taste of nothing like lamb?” Meredith gripped her lace handkerchief, her voice chillingly cold. “Who says it can’t? Today, I shall prepare a roast lamb with no taste of lamb at all, shall I?” She ordered her men to gag my father, tie him like a beast, and hoist him over the fire. Flames roared around him. Meredith covered her mouth with her handkerchief, a cruel laugh escaping her lips. “Isn’t this, then, a roast lamb with no taste of lamb at all?” Finally, she gazed at my father, his skin blistered and torn, her eyes filled with venomous malice. “I told him I would never be a mere mistress, and even the Duke agreed! What are you, a common peasant, to speak to me as if I’m some common tart?” 3 Lady Meredith detested being called a mistress. She was an orphan, without family, brought back by Alaric from the desolate Frostfangs battlefield. They had faced death together, exchanged their lives for each other, and their bond ran deep. But Alaric’s estate already had a Duchess, Eleanor, a wife he had taken at his parents’ command. Eleanor hailed from an ancient aristocratic lineage, and though Alaric held little affection for her, divorcing her was out of the question. Therefore, the only official title available to Meredith was that of a favored companion, a lesser status. But she refused to acknowledge it. “My Alaric and I faced death together on the Frostfangs, swearing to be one love, one life, with the snowy peaks as our witness! And now you want me to be a mistress? Never!” She preferred to remain by Alaric’s side without a formal title, telling him, “I care not what the world thinks of me, so long as you treat me as your only wife.” Alaric was both moved and guilt-ridden. Moved by Meredith’s ardent devotion, and ashamed that he had indeed concealed his marriage from her in the beginning. He could only treat her with even greater indulgence. If Meredith so much as hinted she craved fresh seafood, Alaric would immediately dispatch men on horseback, sending them hundreds of miles to the Verdant Shores to bring back the freshest fish and shrimp. If she suffered a headache or a chill, Alaric would cancel his court duties and remain by her side. As for her, in a fit of pique, publicly roasting an innocent commoner alive—to Alaric, though it caused him some annoyance, it wasn’t a truly grave matter. He merely sighed. “Very well. Meredith is so sensitive about her status, and that rustic fellow spoke out of turn. Since no one actually died, simply have the steward pay him a generous sum for his injuries.” … My mother listened to Silas’s relayed words. She said nothing, merely held a spoon, gently trying to offer my father water. He could no longer swallow. A casual word from a powerful man—”pay for his injuries”—could make it seem as if nothing had happened. But how could one heal a man with six or seven tenths of his skin blackened and festering? Several physicians had examined him, shaking their heads, declaring him beyond cure. He could only watch himself rot away, then die. In truth, my father should have passed sooner, but he held on to his last breath, for he had something to tell my mother. Struggling to open his mouth, my father used his final strength to whisper, “Lily, you must not… not…” “I know,” my mother murmured, tenderly holding his hand. “Don’t seek revenge. You needn’t worry, I would never put myself in such danger. That is Duke Alaric; even the King respects him. How many lives do I, a common woman, have to avenge you? I’ll just take Alice and live our lives well. You’ve saved enough money, anyway. I’ll close the shop, and Alice and I will go picnicking in spring, admire the lilies in summer, bake spiced apple tarts in autumn, and build snowmen in winter…” My father relaxed. He closed his eyes peacefully, a single tear escaping the corner. My mother wiped it away, so lightly, so gently, as if fearing she might hurt him. “Sleep well, my love. When you wake, I’ll still be your wife.” After speaking, Mother picked up the silver locket he’d given her when they first pledged their love. With eyes closed, she steadied her hand, aimed the locket at his charred throat, and plunged it in. … After my father’s funeral, I found a pair of tiny gold rabbit charms in his satchel. I clutched them tightly to my chest. My tears washed away the faint bloodstains on the little rabbits. I wiped my eyes and said, “Sister, I want to go to Kingsport.” My mother looked at the fluttering white paper money covering the ground, silent for a long moment, then softly said, “Of course. We must go to Kingsport.” 4 People said Kingsport was expensive, a hard place to make a living. But for my mother and me, it didn’t seem so difficult. My mother’s cooking skill was exceptional. Once her cauldron was set up, everyone would come, drawn by the intoxicating aroma. I was quick and nimble, helping at the stall, taking orders and handling money. “Here’s your lamb broth, sir! Come again if it pleases you!” The lamb broth was thick and milky white, garnished with fresh green chives, incredibly savory. Our business boomed. Until one day, just as I was handing over a bowl of soup, a sudden kick to my lower back sent me sprawling. “Alice!” my mother cried out. She tried to rush to me, but the large cauldron was immediately kicked over, sending Mother tumbling too. Half a pot of boiling hot lamb broth spilled onto her skirt. Standing before us were the Duke’s household guards. Behind a line of burly, barrel-chested men stood a beautiful woman in a delicate lemon-yellow gown. Lady Meredith frowned, her face a mask of displeasure. “Smash their stall!” “Yes, Lady Meredith!” As the guards moved forward, I rushed to protect the cauldron, screaming desperately, “Help! Help!” One guard reached for me, and I bit down hard on his hand. He howled in pain and raised his hand to strike me. In the midst of the chaos, a clear, cool voice cut through the air. “What is all this commotion?” The crowd, which had gathered at a distance, instinctively parted, making way for a tall, elegant man in a dark, flowing robe. He was not dressed lavishly, and he had only one attendant with him. Yet, as soon as the guards saw him, they immediately dropped to their knees. “Greetings, My Lord!” It was Duke Alaric, the King’s own uncle. He walked forward, his expression displeased. “In broad daylight, in the heart of Kingsport, you create a scene as if you mean to commit murder and arson. What kind of spectacle is this?” Lady Meredith immediately stepped forward, linking her arm through Alaric’s, her lip trembling piteously. “My dearest Alaric, you know I can’t bear the smell of lamb. I simply wanted to discuss with them if they could move their stall further away, but this little ruffian immediately bit my man! That’s why my men accidentally knocked over their cauldron…” The guard immediately held up his hand, which was bleeding profusely from my bite, confirming Meredith’s story. Alaric sighed. “Very well. Then have someone clear their stall away.” “Yes, My Lord!” Two guards immediately stepped forward to grab my mother. Mother struggled to rise but fell back, her skirt splaying, revealing a pair of calves scalded to a vivid crimson. As they tugged, her veil fell from her head, revealing her face. It is said that unadorned beauty, though simply dressed, cannot hide its splendor. For a moment, the two guards who were pulling her froze. Even Alaric himself paused, ever so slightly. And a beautiful woman with tears glistening in her eyes only became more exquisitely pitiful. My mother, suppressing her tears, slowly rose and curtsied to Alaric. “Forgive this humble servant, My Lord, for causing such a disturbance. I shall move my stall to a more distant location at once, and ensure I never appear before Your Grace again.” With that, my mother, leaning on my arm, painstakingly stood up and went to lift the heavy cauldron. Her legs were freshly scalded, and the cauldron was heavy. My mother swayed, looking incredibly fragile and pathetic. For a split second, I noticed Alaric instinctively reach out, as if to help her. But he quickly withdrew his hand. This scene did not escape Lady Meredith’s eyes. She stood behind Alaric, her gaze fixed on us, filled with bitter malice. 5 Mother and I moved to Westside, renting a small storefront for a temporary stay. It was a secluded spot, with few customers, and we barely earned a few coins each day. I went to the nearby hills to gather medicinal herbs, hoping to make a poultice for Mother’s burns to ease her pain. Mother kissed my forehead, but then tossed the herbs into the brazier. “Can’t apply them,” she murmured, her voice barely a whisper. I understood her meaning, but my eyes still welled up with tears. My father had always doted on Mother; if she even scraped a knee, he would make a fuss. Seeing her scalded like this, how heartbroken he would have been. But Mother looked at her injured leg and quietly said, “This is likely not even one-thousandth of the pain he suffered.” Mother’s words had barely faded when the sound of crashing pots, pans, and dishes erupted from the front room. I ran to the front and saw Lady Meredith. She had arrived with a dozen maids and servants. Those maids were overturning the tables and chairs we had so painstakingly acquired, and smashing our cooking utensils to the floor. “What are you doing! What are you doing!” I rushed forward, trying to stop them, but it was useless. Lady Meredith, leisurely cracking sunflower seeds, asked, “Where is that harlot who tried to ensnare the Duke?” My mother was dragged out from the back. Her injuries still unhealed, she could barely walk, her scalded legs scraping against the rough floor. Her skirt quickly became stained with blood. Meredith ordered her men to throw Mother to the ground, then she walked up, pinched my mother’s face with her sharp fingernails, and spat a sunflower seed shell onto her cheek. “You brazen harlot! You think I don’t see your pathetic attempts to charm the Duke with your innocent act? If I don’t teach you a lesson today, you’ll never give up your ambition to climb into his bed.” Two stout servants held my mother down, one on each side. Meredith pulled a sharp silver letter opener from her sleeve, ready to slash my mother’s face. “No!” I threw myself forward, shielding my mother with my body, crying out at the top of my lungs, “My Lady, please, I beg you! My sister has never done anything wrong! Please, if you must kill, kill me! Don’t kill my sister…” Meredith flew into a rage, and the silver letter opener plunged towards my body. A porcelain plate flew across the room, striking the letter opener. The plate shattered, and the letter opener flew from Meredith’s hand. She cried out, clutching her wrist. I was tightly shielded in my mother’s arms. When I looked up again, I saw a tall figure standing in the doorway. It was Alaric. In the faint light, his face was ashen with fury. 6 The shattered porcelain cut Meredith’s skin. She clutched her wrist, her eyes wide. “Alaric, you…!” Disbelief swiftly turned into a roaring inferno of anger. She pointed at my mother. “You actually struck me, for the sake of this low-born harlot? Why? Is it because she has a pretty face that appeals to men?” Meredith was beyond reason. She lunged forward, intent on tearing my mother’s face to shreds. Alaric strode forward, grabbing Meredith’s wrist. “How long will you carry on this childish tantrum?” he reprimanded in a low voice. “If I don’t stop you, you’ll cause a scandal that will rock the very foundations of Kingsport!” Their argument raged, fierce and bitter. By the end, Alaric was pale with anger, and he blurted out, “The women of Kingsport, put together, are not half as shrewish as you!” Meredith froze, stunned. Her eyes immediately turned crimson, and large tears began to fall. “Yes,” Meredith said with a bitter laugh. “No woman in the world is as shrewish as I am. But who else but me would have carried you, step by agonizing step, from the depths of the snow-covered Frostfangs when you were gravely wounded? Who else would have given her own blood as medicine to heal you? Who else would have been willing to die to protect you? Now it seems I should have died in the Frostfangs then. At least you would have remembered me forever, rather than leaving me to suffer such indignity for a common harlot!” Meredith glared viciously at my mother, then ripped the keepsake locket from her neck, flung it to the ground, and ran off. The maids and servants knelt in terror. The boldest among them picked up the keepsake locket and held it above their heads. “My Lord, Lady Meredith grew up in the harsh lands of the Frostfangs, unlike the refined ladies of Kingsport. But her devotion to you is truly unwavering. A maiden’s heart, once shattered, is so terribly difficult to mend.” “Indeed, My Lord,” another added. “Please, hurry and follow Lady Meredith! She knows no one in Kingsport; what if she encounters danger wandering alone?” Alaric picked up the locket. Then he turned, his gaze falling upon my mother. My mother knelt on the ground, her head bowed. From Alaric’s angle, he could only see the delicate curve of her pale, slender neck. She clearly felt his gaze, but she did not raise her head to meet his eyes. Alaric closed his eyes for a moment. In the end, he gripped the keepsake locket and went after Meredith.

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The first thing I did after waking up, after being reborn, was to storm to the front of the lecture hall and brutally attack my homeroom teacher – who was also my own mother. Before the whole class could even react, I then charged at my childhood best friend and closest confidante, kicking and punching her mercilessly. Everyone thought the immense pressure of my final year of high school had finally driven me to a breakdown. The school wanted to send me, a dangerous individual, to a psychiatric institution. I sang and danced with glee. In my past life, on the eve of the university entrance exams, my best friend had blown up the school’s chemistry lab, killing many students on the spot. I was surrounded by police at my front door. They produced surveillance footage, declaring me the murderer. I was stunned, utterly bewildered, and could only beg my mother to confirm my alibi. But my mother said I was a born delinquent, who had dreamed of blowing up the school since childhood. Several infuriated parents, their eyes bloodshot with rage, brutally attacked me, leaving me for dead. 1 “Oh no, Claire Reynolds, the star student, has completely lost it!” “Mom! Please come pick me up from school! I’m scared!” “I told you, studying all the time can make you crazy. Even the top student in our class has snapped!” The classroom buzzed with nervous chatter. Some students huddled under their desks in fear, while others pounded on tables, cheering me on. The reason was simple: I had just stormed the front of the lecture hall and savagely beaten my own mother, who also happened to be my homeroom teacher, until she couldn’t even stand. Then I turned to face the students, locating my target: my past life’s best friend and childhood confidante, Bethany Miller. I grabbed her by the collar. She struggled desperately, and the more she fought, the more exhilarated I became. I dragged her out of the classroom and continued to beat her. The entire hallway echoed with Bethany’s agonized screams. My mother, scrambling on her hands and knees, begged me to stop. Other teachers, discovering the scene, immediately called the police and emergency services. At the psychiatric institution, a doctor wanted to examine me, to see if I was truly insane or just feigning it. My mother, still in a hospital gown from the beating, had them wheel her over. She screamed hysterically at me, “What are you feigning madness for when you’re clearly not ill!” The doctor shook his head, already writing down his diagnosis. “I’ve seen many parents like you. It’s a miracle your child isn’t completely mad! Not only does your daughter need to be admitted, but you, too, should be admitted for proper treatment!” My mother lunged forward, tearing the doctor’s diagnostic report to shreds. “She’s about to take her university entrance exams! Do you have any idea?! Rewrite that diagnosis for me! And don’t you dare slander me, or I’ll sue you!” The doctor shot to his feet. “Madam! Your daughter is ill, do you understand that?! Is her health more important, or the university entrance exams? The exams aren’t the only thing in life!” The school administrator, who had accompanied us to the hospital, initially spoke on my mother’s behalf. “Ms. Vance has always been very good to her students and her daughter. While her methods might be a bit… unconventional, Claire has consistently been at the top of her class, and that’s thanks to her wonderful mother!” Then, he turned to my mother. “Ms. Vance, you need to calm down! Let your daughter receive treatment here for a while. She has terrified the other students in the class; the school cannot allow her to return for now!” My mother trembled with rage. She tried to intimidate me. “Claire Reynolds! I’m telling you, if you don’t come home with me today, I will disown you!” Hearing there was such a good thing on offer, I immediately started singing and dancing. “Today is a good day…” My mother fainted from sheer fury, and I finally entered the psychiatric institution as I had wished. In my past life, close to the university entrance exams, my best friend Bethany Miller blew up the school’s chemistry lab. Classes had just ended, and many students were still inside; they were killed on the spot. I was eating dinner at home when the school administration, along with police officers and a group of parents, descended upon my house and apprehended me. The school principal showed me surveillance footage; it clearly showed me blowing up the lab. Though I was bewildered, I knew it was absolutely impossible. My family lived in the staff apartments just a five-minute walk from school. The moment classes ended, I always raced home, and today I had even surpassed my usual speed, arriving a minute earlier than normal. How could I have possibly detoured to the lab to blow it up before coming home for dinner? Yet, my mother looked tense and stammered, “My daughter did come home half an hour later than usual today…” I wondered if my ears were malfunctioning, how could my mother say such a thing? The eyes of several parents present were bloodshot with rage. With lightning speed, they pulled out knives, brutally attacking me, leaving me for dead. “My child won’t grow up in peace; why should scum like you live?” When I opened my eyes again, I decided the psychiatric institution was rather pleasant. 2 At the psychiatric institution, I ate and slept well. After breakfast, I even joined the other patients in their morning exercises; life was remarkably peaceful. Just a week later, Dr. Lee said my condition was good and informed me I could be discharged, advising me to maintain an optimistic outlook. I calculated the time—Bethany should have already blown up the lab. I thanked the doctor, grabbed my luggage, and left the hospital. I looked up at the sunlight, humming a tune as I started walking home. I hadn’t taken two steps when my mother and Bethany, accompanied by police, school administrators, and a large group of angry parents, arrived. The moment my mother saw me, she snatched the suitcase from my hand. “You beast! You’ve killed so many innocent lives! And now you want to run!” Bethany sobbed, “Claire, turn yourself in! Seek leniency, perhaps in this life I’ll still see you released alive!” Among the crowd were social media influencers. “Folks, the perpetrator of last night’s school bombing has been found! Everyone, take a good look! If she’s only sentenced to a few years, we’ll need to avoid her on the streets!” I was stunned. I had gone to such lengths to hide in the psychiatric institution, why were they still after me? I opened my mouth, but before I could speak, the School Board Chairman’s palm landed across my face. The Chairman’s eyes blazed with fury. “You, trying to walk free? What about my son?! Does murder not carry a death penalty?!” The police tried to intervene, but the parents were too numerous and too enraged for them to take much action. I wanted to explain, but no one was willing to listen. They shouted for my death, demanding I pay for the lives lost. Some, overcome with emotion, even slashed my face, and my hair was left a disheveled mess. The commotion at the entrance of the psychiatric institution made the patients inside even more agitated. Soon, the hospital director emerged, leading a large contingent of doctors and security guards. “What is going on? This is a hospital entrance, not a public marketplace! Our patients need rest!” My mother clutched me fiercely, offering a forced smile. “We’re leaving immediately! We’re leaving!” I instantly spotted Dr. Lee standing behind the director. “Dr. Lee! My mother is having a relapse, and they’re trying to arrest me! Please, save me!” Dr. Lee pulled me behind him. “The patient has just been discharged; her emotional state is still unstable. You cannot provoke her further!” The School Board Chairman was livid. He pointed a finger at my nose, cursing me. “I’ve seen too many like you—committing heinous acts, acting wantonly, and then claiming insanity afterward! I have plenty of money, and I’ll hire the best legal team to get you sentenced to death!” The live stream comments exploded. [Why should a mentally ill murderer not get the death penalty?!] [Support death penalty!] [Death penalty!] … I was both furious and utterly bewildered. I had sacrificed so much, gone to such lengths to hide in the psychiatric institution, yet they still found me. “I don’t understand what I’ve done for you to want to sentence me to death?” The Chairman retorted, “What have you done, you ask? You blew up your school’s chemistry lab! I’ve never seen a criminal as brazen as you!” Unlike my past life, this time I was completely confident. “Our school’s chemistry lab blew up? When did this happen? I wasn’t aware!” My mother tried to grab me again, but I dodged, remaining behind Dr. Lee. Failing to seize me, my mother grew even more frantic. “You’re still pretending? How could I have raised such a vile creature! It happened last night after school; you went to the lab when it was empty and blew it up. The School Board Chairman’s son was right next door and was crushed to death by the collapsing ceiling!” Bethany chimed in, “Claire, don’t try to deny it. I saw you sneaking around the lab yesterday, doing something suspicious.” The hospital’s security guard, an older man, heard this and grew even more agitated than I was. “Young lady, you need to speak with evidence. I was on duty last night. Are you saying I was negligent and let one of our patients escape?” 3 The school security guard also bristled. “Brother, you can’t accuse me just to protect your job! Luckily, Ms. Vance reminded me to bring the surveillance footage. Look, isn’t this Claire Reynolds?” The surveillance footage showed me, in my school uniform, sneaking towards the chemistry lab, throwing something inside, and then running away. The moment I ran off, a massive flash of light appeared on the screen, and then the monitor went black. The footage was high-definition; even the mole on my face was clearly visible. Everyone watching, especially those in the live stream, erupted. [No wonder mentally ill people are always running around, hurting and killing people – the security at this psychiatric institution is clearly inadequate!] [This girl looks so quiet and refined, but I never expected her to be so vicious and deceitful!] [Such scum deserves the death penalty!] … The hospital’s security guard was red-faced and furious. If I hadn’t been reborn, I would have panicked. “Officer, I’ve been staying at the psychiatric institution all these days, and there’s surveillance footage there too! Officer, why don’t we check that footage?” And this surveillance footage happened to be quite convenient. The very first day I arrived, I went to the security guard to confirm that all the cameras inside the building were working. The guard guaranteed me, “Of course they are! The day before you came in, some were broken, but today they’ve all been replaced with new ones.” The guard produced the footage, and we faced each other. The psychiatric institution’s surveillance showed me staying inside the hospital the entire time. At the exact moment the school bombing occurred, I was chatting with a child with autism. Though the scene was bizarre, it undeniably proved that it was me. For a moment, everyone looked at each other in confusion. The live stream audience was also at a complete loss. [The same person appearing in two different places at the same time?] [Could it be twins? One in the mental hospital, one blowing up the school!] [If it’s not twins, then it must be haunted!] [But that’s not right, even twins wouldn’t look exactly alike, right down to the mole!] … After seeing the online comments, the police also wondered if I had a twin sister.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “392850”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

When the wealthy Sterling couple came to our university to give a guest lecture, my childhood friend, Liam, was pulling me away, sneaking out to the university dining hall for our work-study shift. He called for me to grab an empty bucket from a shelf. The moment I took a step, live comments flooded my vision: [DO NOT TOUCH THAT BUCKET, IT’S FULL OF HOT SOUP LIAM PREPARED TO DISFIGURE YOU!] [THREE YEARS AGO, LIAM HELPED HIS FIRST LOVE REPLACE YOU AS THE LONG-LOST DAUGHTER OF THE STERLING FAMILY. NOW HE WANTS TO RUIN YOUR FACE SO YOU’LL NEVER HAVE A CHANCE TO RETURN HOME!] [POOR YOU, SUFFERING SEVERE FULL-BODY BURNS AND COUNTLESS SKIN GRAFT SURGERIES, ONLY TO BE POISONED BY THE FAKE HEIRESS WHO SWAPPED YOUR MEDICATION.] [AND THAT JERK LIAM MARRIED INTO THE STERLING FAMILY, WORKING WITH THE FAKE HEIRESS TO SWINDLE YOUR FAMILY OUT OF THEIR ENTIRE FORTUNE!] [GO BACK RIGHT NOW AND LET MRS. STERLING SEE YOUR FACE! THIS IS YOUR ONLY CHANCE TO BECOME THE TRUE HEIRESS!] I heard Liam urge me to hurry and grab the bucket. I glanced at the comments, hesitated, and froze in place. 1 “Emmy, what are you waiting for? Grab that bucket! I can barely hold these bags.” Liam, my childhood friend for eighteen years, stood ten feet away, struggling with two bags of rice, calling out to me. The live comments continued to scroll wildly. [MY POOR PROTAGONIST, DO NOT TOUCH THAT BUCKET!] [RUN! YOUR FACE LOOKS EXACTLY LIKE MRS. STERLING’S! IF YOU’RE DISFIGURED, YOU’LL NEVER HAVE A CHANCE TO GO HOME!] My legs trembled, and I slowly backed away. Liam urged me twice more. Seeing I hadn’t moved, he took two steps closer himself. “Emmy, what’s on your mind?” I forced my gaze away from the bucket and asked him, “Liam, I heard that Mr. Sterling, the Chairman giving the lecture today, found his long-lost daughter a few years ago?” Liam’s eyes visibly widened, but then he quickly shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “How would I know anything about rich people’s affairs? All I know is if we don’t finish this job, we won’t get paid today.” He continued to pressure me, but I simply sat down by the doorway. “I’m a little tired. Can I rest for two minutes?” Liam grew anxious. “Rest after you move the bucket.” The more anxious he became, the more suspicious I grew. I didn’t answer. I quickly pulled out my phone and searched. Sure enough, I found news about the Sterling family from three years ago. And the girl Mrs. Sterling was embracing and weeping over was none other than our mutual friend, Chloe Miller! No wonder Chloe changed her name to Chloe Sterling right after freshman year of college, telling me some fortune teller had given her the new name. I bit my lip and held my phone up to Liam, who was still urging me. “Isn’t this Chloe?” Liam’s throat went dry, and he averted his gaze. “Probably. I’m too busy with work-study; I don’t pay attention to such things.” He continued to press me. “Listen, hurry and move the bucket. After we’re done, I’ll take you for some street tacos near the entrance.” He was changing the subject, he was guilty! My heart felt as if it had been clutched, then violently thrown off a cliff, plummeting rapidly. I was only two years old when I was abducted. A year after arriving at my new home, my adoptive parents abandoned me. At the orphanage, I met Liam, who was the same age. We grew up together, and even attended the same university. All these years, he had cared for me meticulously, saving money to buy me snacks, and taking me on trips during holidays. When some classmates mocked me for not having parents, he specifically learned martial arts, pinning down those who bullied me and making them apologize. Five years ago, he confessed his feelings to me, holding a bouquet of white roses, my favorite. He said he would be good to me forever, that we were each other’s only family. I thought we would marry after graduation, and be together always. But it turned out that two years after I said yes to him, he arranged for another girl to take my place and be reunited with my biological family. “Liam, was I your first love?” I asked, trying to suppress the tremor in my voice. Liam lowered his head, meticulously wiping non-existent dust from a rice bag. “Of course, Emmy, you were my first love.” [HE’S LYING AGAIN! THIS TWO-FACED JERK WHO DECEIVED THE PROTAGONIST DESERVES TO DIE!] A sourness welled up in my nose, and I disappointedly lowered my head. Chloe Miller entered the orphanage when we were ten. She was sweet-talked and pretty, always trailing after Liam, calling him “brother.” Liam was annoyed at first, but gradually grew accustomed to it, always inviting her to eat and play with us. Thinking of the girl who always called me “Emmy Sis,” I couldn’t help but clench my fists. The two of them must have conspired behind my back, hiding the truth from me while setting her up to be the Sterling family’s daughter. And today, with the Sterlings here to give a lecture, Liam, fearing they’d recognize me, actually intended to disfigure me! No, I had to go back! I couldn’t let them keep deceiving everyone! “Liam, I have a stomach ache; I need to go to the restroom.” I left that excuse and walked away, heading straight for the auditorium. 2 In the auditorium, Mr. and Mrs. Sterling had just finished their speech, and Chloe Sterling stood on stage. Today, she wore a beautifully tailored, luxurious gown, with full makeup and meticulously styled hair, even her hairpins studded with diamonds. She spoke eloquently: “The Financial Aid Scholarship is a project I’ve poured my heart into. I’m grateful for my parents’ support; without them, I wouldn’t be who I am today, and this project wouldn’t have helped so many students complete their studies. It’s a shame, though, that a friend of mine hasn’t received this scholarship for three years, and often bothers me privately…” She paused, then added, “But I want to say that opportunity is for those who are prepared.” I knew she was talking about me. [WHAT A VICIOUS ANTAGONIST! THE PROTAGONIST DIDN’T FAIL TO GET IT BECAUSE SHE WASN’T SMART ENOUGH!] [EXACTLY! IT WAS ALL HER BEHIND-THE-SCENES MANIPULATION, DELIBERATELY MAKING THE PROTAGONIST FAIL TO MEET THE QUALIFICATIONS!] [SO SNEAKY! ONLY THOSE WHO RECEIVED THE SCHOLARSHIP COULD TAKE A PHOTO WITH THE STERLINGS; THEY WERE AFRAID OF BEING EXPOSED.] My heart skipped a beat. For three years, I had been ranked first in my major, but I always failed to meet the application criteria for various reasons. I had even privately complained to them. What did they say back then? “Emmy, our work-study wages are enough for this month’s living expenses; don’t worry.” “Emmy Sis, don’t be sad. You’ll definitely get it next time!” They superficially comforted me, but in reality, they blocked my scholarship, preventing me from meeting my parents. I looked at my parents, who were gazing at Chloe with satisfied expressions, and opened my mouth to call out. Suddenly, a hand clamped over my mouth, pulling me back forcefully. “Emmy, this is an important event; don’t cause trouble. Let’s go back to work.” [JERK! HE’S LIVING THE HIGH LIFE WITH CHLOE STERLING, YET HE STILL MAKES THE PROTAGONIST STRUGGLE WITH WORK-STUDY!] I recognized Liam’s voice and stomped on his foot. He cried out in pain, but his grip didn’t loosen. On stage, Chloe noticed us. Her eyes widened for half a second, then she composed herself, turning to whisper something to Mrs. Sterling. Mrs. Sterling immediately frowned with concern and led her off the stage. [HOW INSIDIOUS! PRETENDING TO FEEL UNWELL TO AVOID EXPOSURE.] [SCHEMING WOMAN!] Seeing all three of them leave the stage, I bit down hard on Liam’s finger. The moment he loosened his grip, I ran towards the backstage area. [PROTAGONIST, RUSH! LET YOUR MOM SEE YOUR FACE!] Seeing the comments, I ran even faster. It turned out the world I was in was a novel about a true and a fake heiress. Today, I was supposed to be scalded by Liam with hot soup and sent to the hospital. Later, I would meet Mrs. Sterling in the hospital, realizing we looked exactly alike, but Chloe would turn her against me with a few words, making her disbelieve me. Liam would even deliberately show her someone else’s photos, claiming that was what I actually looked like. This would make Mrs. Sterling despise my “lies,” stop donating to the hospital, and refuse to see me. While I underwent skin graft surgeries in the hospital, Liam and Chloe would publicly begin a relationship outside, and Liam would even join the Sterling family’s company. Finally, one day, my appearance would recover by thirty percent, and I would believe I could finally meet my parents. But then Chloe would poison me with a needle! After my death, Liam would marry into the family, and they would have a high-profile wedding. In the second year of their marriage, they would cause an accident to kill Mr. and Mrs. Sterling, successfully seizing all the Sterling family’s assets. Poor me and my parents, all dead at their hands, without even a proper funeral, just left in the morgue. This shouldn’t be the protagonist’s fate, and my parents should certainly not die! I had to change the ending! Finally reaching backstage, I called out to their retreating backs: “Wait!” Chloe was the first to recognize my voice. She pushed them, hurrying them forward. “Mom, let’s go quickly, I’m feeling so dizzy.” Mrs. Sterling, about to turn back, was also held by Chloe, who pressed her head down. I heard Liam’s footsteps approaching from behind me. In desperation, I shouted, “She’s a fake! I’m your real daughter!” 3 Mrs. Sterling turned immediately. Upon seeing my face, she gasped. “You… you look exactly like me!” She looked at me, then at Chloe, who only bore a slight resemblance to her. Mr. Sterling, startled, stepped forward, wanting to examine my face more closely. I quickly said, “I’m your daughter! She’s an impostor!” [THE PROTAGONIST IS FINALLY STANDING UP FOR HERSELF! GIVE THAT ANTAGONIST A SLAP!] Just as I finished reading the comments, a hand grabbed my shoulder, forcefully pulling me back. Liam’s voice was filled with barely concealed panic as he scolded me. “Emmy, this isn’t our place. Come back with me, be good.” “Hey!” Mrs. Sterling instinctively reached out to pull me, but Chloe tightly hugged her. Two lines of tears streamed down Chloe’s face. “Mom, don’t you believe me?” Mrs. Sterling’s heart immediately ached, and she embraced Chloe, comforting her. “Of course I believe you, Chloe, it’s just…” I understood her meaning. With me looking so much like her, how could she not have doubts? “Mrs. Sterling, I was abducted when I was two years old! When I was taken, I was wearing a green T-shirt, black pants, and white shoes! I also remember there was a mountain behind our house, covered in peach trees! I remember being carried up the mountain to pick peaches, and being scared by a snake until I cried!” After rattling off my memories from before I was two, Mrs. Sterling’s eyes reddened, and she choked, unable to speak. Mr. Sterling nodded repeatedly. “Yes, the next day, I had all the snakes on the mountain driven away, but our daughter was already gone…” Behind them, Chloe’s face turned grim. She quickly exchanged a glance with Liam. “Emmy Sis, how could you do this to me?” Hearing her cry, Mrs. Sterling turned and asked, “Chloe, you two know each other?” “Mom, this is a friend Liam and I made at the orphanage. We grew up together. Everything she just said is what I’ve told you before. Emmy Sis, I treated you like a real sister and shared my memories with you. How could you turn around and try to deceive my parents?” Liam also walked over, facing me, his face darkening. “Emily Holloway, Chloe has repeatedly tolerated your behavior, why can’t you just leave her alone?” Mr. Sterling hesitated. “Has she bullied Chloe?” “Yes, Mr. Sterling. Chloe is kind-hearted and didn’t want to upset you, which is why she didn’t tell you. But I can’t stand Emily Holloway’s malicious intentions! This Emily Holloway has been jealous of Chloe since childhood. At the orphanage, she would snatch Chloe’s toys, and when we went to school, she’d tear up her homework. Later, she grew jealous that Chloe was found by you and became wealthy, so she specifically asked me how you found Chloe. I told her it was because Chloe looked a lot like Mrs. Sterling, so she deliberately went and had plastic surgery to look like Mrs. Sterling!” A thunderbolt exploded in my mind. I looked at Liam in disbelief, my body trembling uncontrollably. The eighteen years of friendship we shared felt utterly foreign to me in that moment. Especially the sinister, vicious look in his eyes—a side of Liam I had never seen before. When I spoke, tears were already falling. “You’re lying! We grew up together; don’t you know what I look like?!” “She’s the one who impersonated me to claim kinship, and you’re slandering me by saying I had plastic surgery!” His expression grew even more sinister, his eyes narrowing as he gritted his teeth. “Precisely because we grew up together, I know exactly what kind of person you are, and I know what you used to look like.” He enlarged a photo and handed it to Mr. and Mrs. Sterling. He pointed to a girl with contorted features, bearing no resemblance to Mrs. Sterling, and said, “This is Emily Holloway’s original appearance.” [THAT JERK IS TOO RUTHLESS, SHOWING OTHER PEOPLE’S PHOTOS TO MRS. STERLING.] [PROTAGONIST, DON’T CRY, QUICKLY FIND YOUR SELFIES!] I quickly pulled out my phone, but froze when I opened my photo album. Three years ago, when Liam and I were boating on the lake, my phone fell into the water and broke. My new phone only had photos from the past few years; there were no records from the orphanage at all! [DAMN IT, THE JERK AND ANTAGONIST WERE PREPARED THREE YEARS AGO, NOT GIVING THE PROTAGONIST A CHANCE TO RECOVER.] Seeing me clutching my phone in silence, Mr. and Mrs. Sterling also saw that I had no evidence, and exchanged helpless glances. Chloe seized the opportunity to quietly sob. “Emmy Sis, I know you’re upset about not getting the scholarship. If you really need money, I can give it to you. I’ll give you anything you want, please, just don’t try to take my parents away from me…” Mrs. Sterling pulled Chloe into her embrace. “There, there, child, don’t cry. Your mom and dad will always be your mom and dad; we won’t abandon you. Let’s go home.” Mr. Sterling also cast a displeased glance at me, gesturing for the bodyguards to escort me away. [OH NO, THE PROTAGONIST HAS NO EVIDENCE!] The moment the bodyguards grabbed me to lead me away, I urgently said, “We can do a DNA test!” 4 The moment I said that, Mr. and Mrs. Sterling looked at me with even greater disappointment. Liam and Chloe, meanwhile, smirked confidently. “Emily Holloway, I understand you’re unwilling to give up after seeing how wealthy the Sterlings are… but Mr. Sterling has been a titan in the business world for years; how could he not have thought of doing a DNA test?” Liam’s voice was laced with derision. “It’s precisely because he did one that Mr. Sterling confirmed Chloe is their daughter!” I looked at the mockery in Liam’s eyes. Just as I was about to retort, I suddenly remembered that lake trip three years ago. After my phone fell, he immediately jumped into the lake to retrieve it. Anxious, I followed him in. Later, we were sent to the hospital for examination. In my daze, a lot of my hair was pulled out, and more than a dozen vials of blood were drawn… [DAMN THOSE JERK AND ANTAGONIST! THEY REALLY LEFT NO LOOPHOLES!] [NOW WHAT WILL THE PROTAGONIST DO? SHE HAS ABSOLUTELY NO EVIDENCE.] A few students passing by backstage overheard and found it amusing. “Emily Holloway is usually so poor she can’t even afford a decent meal. She’s probably dreaming of becoming a rich family’s daughter, huh?” “No wonder I saw you running so frantically earlier. Were you afraid of missing your chance to become a pauper turning into a princess?” The taunts crashed around my ears, suffocating me. After leaving the orphanage, I had been working non-stop to repay my student loans, pinching every penny. I cut off all social interaction; apart from Liam and Chloe, I had no other friends. I just wanted to pay off my student loans, feel completely unburdened, and go find my parents. But to others, all this looked like evidence that I wanted to be a rich man’s daughter. “Mom, I feel terrible. Let’s go home…” Chloe said pitifully. Mrs. Sterling quickly embraced her and started to walk away. Mr. Sterling gave a look, and the bodyguards were already pushing me towards the exit. In desperation, I gritted my teeth and said, “Mrs. Sterling, have you checked the birthmark on her foot?” The three of them stopped. Mrs. Sterling looked at me, then at Chloe, but said nothing. I continued, “Other things can change, but a birthmark cannot.” Chloe panicked. “My birthmark faded as I grew up; that’s normal!” “Is that so?” I challenged. “Then can you tell everyone the shape of the birthmark, right now?” Liam’s face darkened. He said, “Chloe is shy. I’ll tell you. The birthmark was long and narrow.” “Yes, long and narrow!” Chloe echoed. But when she confidently looked at her parents, she saw their expressions had changed. Mrs. Sterling, with a complex expression, gently released Chloe and turned to look at me. Mr. Sterling, too, lowered his head in thought for a few seconds, then gestured for the bodyguards to release me. Liam, still confused, scanned the surroundings, then suddenly realized something. “The mark you mentioned, that was actually caused by my adoptive father whipping me at their home. My adoptive mother, fearing I’d run away, would pour red ink into the wound every day, which made it look like a birthmark.” Chloe was trembling so violently her teeth chattered. I, tears blurring my vision, looked at Mrs. Sterling. “My birthmark is on my inner thigh. It’s so private, I never told anyone, not even friends I grew up with. It’s an irregular shape, but I clearly remember my mother telling me during baths that it was a star. Mama said I was her and Papa’s little star.” Mrs. Sterling was already sobbing uncontrollably, running over to embrace me tightly. “My little star, how much you’ve suffered all these years…” Chloe finally reacted, shouting in rage, “Emily Holloway! You dared to trick me!” I scoffed coldly. “You tricked me first! Liam pretended to love me, extracted my memories of being abducted, then fed them to you. He even deliberately broke my phone and drew my blood, all so you could solidify your position as the Sterling family’s daughter! And today, he tricked me into going to the dining hall, planning to use hot soup to disfigure me, so Mom would never find me!” Mr. Sterling’s face was grim. He ordered the bodyguards to apprehend them. Chloe, desperate, kicked Liam’s leg. “Useless! Didn’t you say you knew her body inside out?!” Liam, also frantic, immediately kicked her back and added a forceful shove. “She was always busy with work-study; she wouldn’t let me touch her!” I tightly clutched my mother’s hand, terrified that this hard-won familial bond would be snatched away again. “Mom, I almost didn’t get to see you.” I looked up. “Let’s do a DNA test right now, on the spot!”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “392849”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

1 For five years, every time I accidentally brushed against my wife Cassandra’s skin, she’d punish me by making me kneel in disinfectant and recite from “The Gentleman’s Code.” Until one day, I saw a faint, crimson mark on her collarbone, a subtle bruise of intimacy, and instinctively reached out to touch it. She erupted in a furious tantrum, slamming the door behind her as she left, but surprisingly, she didn’t order me to kneel in disinfectant. I naively believed she was slowly growing accustomed to my touch. But the very next day, my virginity was put up for auction, to be held among the city’s elite heiresses in two days’ time. Cassandra’s friends exchanged lecherous glances, already calculating their bids, but she remained utterly unmoved, repeatedly dousing herself in disinfectant. “The skin Noah’s lips have grazed, he dared to touch,” she sneered, “He thinks he’s what, exactly? Just looking at him makes me feel unclean.” “Noah Reed just got back from his trip. Cassandra waited so long for that kiss, and Ethan Hale, so utterly shameless, dared to touch her? He deserves a lesson.” Cassandra scoffed with disdain. “A lesson? Please. Five years of no one touching him, he’s probably ecstatic that some wealthy older woman will bid on his first night. You wouldn’t believe how desperate he is.” “It’s as if he can’t stand being without a woman!” A wave of mocking laughter followed, nearly shaking the roof. “Noah is allergic to his scent; it makes him nauseous. It forces Cassandra to sanitize herself every time she comes into contact with Ethan. He probably genuinely believes he’s unclean, hahaha!” “This auction is his chance to finally be a man, no longer bound by ‘The Gentleman’s Code.’ He must be thrilled!” Amidst the rising tide of ridicule, a cold dread washed over my face. It felt as if an invisible hand had gripped my heart, a pain so sharp that my vision blurred. Every time Cassandra accidentally touched me, she’d recoil as if I were a ghost. I’d even started to believe I carried some infectious disease, soaking myself in disinfectant every night. Over time, every inch of my skin became severely damaged; even a gentle breeze would irritate it, causing allergic reactions and a painful rash. Cassandra even had the double bed in our master bedroom replaced with two separate beds, terrified of catching my supposed “germs.” After countless desperate questions from me, Cassandra simply threw a medical report at me. “I have severe germophobia. Don’t you ever touch a single hair on my body again!” So this was it. All of it was because of Noah Reed—a casual remark, a fleeting “disgust,” an “allergy.” Such an absurd reason. Our families had been close for generations, and a childhood betrothal had been arranged. As we grew older, the engagement gradually faded from our families’ minds; everyone assumed we’d pursue relationships of our own choosing. But Grandmother Vance had been plagued by illness for years, and being a woman of strict, old-fashioned principles, she insisted we honor the marriage pact. She knew perfectly well that Cassandra harbored feelings for Noah, and I, at the time, was seeing someone. Yet, she remained unyielding, and we were powerless. In my hesitation, Grandmother Vance offered a lifeline. “I truly hope you two will make it work. But, to prepare for the worst, if Cassandra ever truly wrongs you, I will personally bring the signed annulment papers to ensure you are free.” But on our wedding night, she locked me out of our bedroom. I initially thought she just needed time to accept me, so I gave her all my patience, indulging her “germophobia.” But that wait stretched for five years. I endured five years of an unconsummated marriage, humbling myself to her every whim, only to uncover this devastating truth… I dialed Grandmother Vance’s number, my voice numb. “In two days, at the downtown auction, there will be ample proof that Cassandra has betrayed me. Please, Grandmother, release me.” I returned home very late. Cassandra, uncharacteristically, didn’t treat me with her usual cold disdain. Instead, there was a faint flicker of desire in her eyes. Yet, the key fob on the coffee table that wasn’t mine, and a pair of men’s briefs peeking from the sofa cushions, still pierced my heart. “You’ve always wanted to touch me, haven’t you? Five years. I don’t believe you haven’t wanted to at all.” I turned, startled, meeting her gaze, watching as a reddish tint slowly crept to the corners of her eyes. Was she truly willing to let me touch her? But remembering the vile things she’d said to her friends, I instantly averted my eyes. “I’m tired. I want to rest.” Cassandra heard my refusal, and the desire in her eyes immediately vanished, replaced by impatience. “You used to beg me to touch you. What’s wrong now? You’re my husband, behave.” With that, she forcibly pinned me against the wall, stripping every stitch of clothing from me, leaving me naked and exposed in the cold air. I gasped. The next moment, I was shoved into the master bedroom, but she remained outside, locking the door. The woman’s voice was cold as she tossed out, “I’m busy. You can stay in there by yourself tonight.” 2 I searched the entire bedroom but couldn’t find a single piece of clothing. Even the sheets and curtains had been removed. Just as I started to think it didn’t matter if I was naked in the room, a harsh glare from telescopes reflecting from the mansion across the street caught my eye. Several women jostled, vying for a better view. “That’s Ethan Hale, the one whose virginity is being auctioned! Cassandra’s having us ‘pre-inspect’ him so we can bid higher. This is amazing!” “Let me see, let me see! Wow, he actually looks pretty good! I just wonder if we can outbid those big shots. The auction attendees are all major executives and wealthy older women.” “Whether we get him or not, at least we get an eyeful now, hahaha! We’re not losing anything!” … I stood rigidly, paralyzed. Those lecherous, predatory gazes felt like sharp thorns, piercing me with excruciating pain, leaving me nowhere to hide. Amidst the muffled, vulgar whispers that reached my ears, I hugged myself tightly, trembling in the corner. Downstairs, Cassandra was hardly idle. I could tell from the sounds that she was intimate with Noah Reed. “Ethan Hale actually thinks I want to touch him. You should have seen his eyes; he looked like he wanted to devour me right away. Absolutely disgusting.” Her words were punctuated by the sound of disinfectant being sprayed. “Don’t worry, Noah, only you can touch me. I would never let myself get dirty.” Following that, the sounds from downstairs grew increasingly sordid. I wrapped my arms around myself, my heart turned to ash. Even if a hundred more pairs of eyes fell upon me, I would meet them with numb indifference… It wasn’t until past midnight that Cassandra unlocked the door. As if nothing had happened, she said with an air of casual indifference, “I got so engrossed in my work, I forgot about you. Hurry, put this on, don’t catch a cold.” The woman impatiently tossed a bathrobe at me, as if looking at me for another second would defile her eyes. I haphazardly wrapped the bathrobe around myself, but the chill in my flesh lingered. Cassandra glanced at her phone and mumbled to herself, “Strange. Grandmother’s illness isn’t better, so why did she decide to check out of the hospital?” I offered a perfunctory lie. “Maybe she felt a bit stifled. Some fresh air would do her good.” Then, her phone chimed again. For a split second, I saw a glaring message: “Cassandra, Cassandra, the indecent photos and video worked! A wealthy older woman has already placed a pre-bid of three million. She’s nearly seventy, so Ethan’s first night will be… blessed, hahaha!” It was then I realized there was a small, real-time surveillance camera in the bedroom. Which meant my naked body had not only been seen by the perverse women in the mansion across the street, but also by the wealthy older patrons who had access to the online auction… Cassandra quickly put her phone away, guilty, and changed the subject. “It was just a small delay, no need to look so gloomy. In the future, once I overcome more of my issues, there will be opportunities.” Seeing her perfunctory and disgusted expression, my heart twisted into a knot. For Noah Reed, she could revel in intimacy, utterly free of any germophobia. For me, she would probably never “overcome” her physical aversion. I clenched my fists tightly, no longer feeling any physical pain in my skin. Cassandra rummaged through her evening gowns, then casually said, “Go take a proper shower first. I’m taking you to an auction. I heard there’s a highly anticipated item up for bid tonight. Everyone’s going for that, so let’s join the fun.” Hearing her words, I felt an electric shock and rejected her in horror. “I’m not going. I don’t want to bid on any items.” Hearing my refusal, the woman’s face immediately fell. “Don’t be so temperamental. Noah even said he’d bid on some jewelry for you. You’re so old now, and all you do is throw childish tantrums… You’re going whether you like it or not. Ever since we got married, all you’ve done is stay home, washing clothes and cooking. The housekeeper has no work left! Anyone would think you’re trying to steal her job! Come out with me and see the world!” I looked at my ravaged hands and suddenly found it all rather ridiculous. All these years, to accommodate her germophobia, I washed the bedsheets morning, noon, and night, and hand-washed her clothes every day. In her eyes, it was merely the work of a housekeeper. Even worse, it was something so undignified… Seeing me just looking at my hands, Cassandra’s patience completely ran out. She directly shoved me into my designated “disinfectant” bathtub. After I finished, the woman, as if steeling herself, dried me off, her disgust palpable on her face. Once I was dry, she meticulously sanitized her hands, then dragged me into the car. Upon arriving at the auction venue, guests mingled, clinking glasses and discussing the upcoming auction. The moment he saw me, Noah Reed rushed over with a smile, carefully examining my hands. 3 My hands were already so raw from disinfectant that they were white with red patches, the skin as thin as parchment, already covered in a painful rash. “Heh, Ethan’s got such delicate skin, hasn’t he? I heard Cassandra can’t bear to touch you; she’s probably afraid of hurting you.” The next moment, someone sharply interjected. “Hahaha, afraid of hurting him? She just doesn’t want to touch him! Why else would he still be a virgin after five years of marriage?!” Another wave of mocking laughter, layered one upon another, brutally drowned me. Five years. She truly hadn’t allowed me to touch a single hair on her body. I frowned, my face burning, and spoke coldly. “Have you said enough?” Cassandra scoffed, her dark eyes clearly filled with displeasure. “I compliment you for being youthful, and you’re not happy? Can’t you tell good words from bad? It means you’re pure. Anyone else would be secretly delighted. Don’t be ungrateful.” Seeing my expression didn’t improve, one of the women present raised a glass and offered it to me. “That’s right, that’s right, handsome. Don’t be so sensitive. She was complimenting you. Come on, try a sip, this wine is very expensive.” I looked around. Everyone’s gaze was fixed on me. Realizing they intended to auction off my first night, I instantly understood. I coldly pushed away the glass. “Didn’t you say this was just for collectibles? I don’t have a habit of drinking.” Hearing my refusal, Cassandra’s knuckles around her wine glass whitened slightly, suppressing her rising anger. “You refuse a friendly offer and invite trouble instead. I told you, you’ve become a simpleton staying home. You can’t even take a joke, and you won’t drink. What exactly do you want?” I took a step back, looking at her with deadly seriousness. “I should be asking you that. What exactly do you want? Cassandra…” Before I could finish my sentence, I felt a sharp needle pierce my lower back. Hiss— The drug seemed to take effect. My head gradually grew heavy, and my hearing became muffled. “Why waste words on him? One shot and it’s done. He’s the main event, the star item. If we delay any longer, those big shots will get impatient!” “Good thing you’re so prepared. Ethan Hale is quite cautious. If this doesn’t work out, most of the auction attendees will be disappointed!” Noah Reed leaned limply against Cassandra’s shoulder, his triumphant gaze fixed on me, challenging me. “Ethan is truly lucky. So many people are fighting for his first night. Tonight will certainly be very meaningful for him.” I staggered, trying to keep myself upright, and cast a pleading look at Cassandra. “Please, don’t do this to me. I don’t want to be with other women…” Why wouldn’t she let me touch her, yet she would allow other women to? Hearing my broken pleas, Cassandra only clutched Noah tighter, scoffing. “Don’t you just love women touching you? Since I can’t overcome my aversion, I can only let other women exercise my rights as a wife. Isn’t that a win-win?” The woman deliberately exaggerated her caresses of Noah, every touch to his body a mockery of me. I closed my eyes in despair. The terror had begun to fade, replaced by a chilling numbness. The next moment, I was completely stripped naked and confined inside a transparent crystal box, then taken backstage. “Let me out…” But outside, it was only Cassandra’s people. No one paid attention to my pleas. “Several wealthy older women are demanding to see Ethan Hale in advance! Who knew he’d be so popular for his age? We won’t know who gets him until the last minute, hahaha!” Perhaps Cassandra’s expression was displeased, for someone patted her shoulder. “Don’t worry. After a night of ecstasy, Ethan won’t remember any of this. Then you can just split the auction proceeds among us, girls.” The laughter from outside the box grew more distant, and I pinched my thigh hard, trying to stay conscious. It wasn’t until Grandmother Vance appeared, ordering her personal bodyguard to release me from the box and wrap me in clothes. “I never imagined that girl Cassandra would go this far!” She made me sign the annulment papers and then instructed the bodyguard to take me to the airport. The moment I got into the car, I couldn’t hold on any longer and fell unconscious. At the same time, the auction house buzzed with excitement. “The final, most anticipated item, ‘Youthful Dream,’ has already reached a pre-bid of six million, and now… someone has placed a ‘Moonbeam’ bid!” Following a burst of enthusiastic cheers, everyone present, including Cassandra, turned to look at the auctioneer’s gesture. The moment she saw Grandmother Vance, the woman’s brow immediately furrowed. Grandmother Vance held up the marriage contract and slapped it onto Cassandra’s face with a sharp thwack. “Since you don’t want Ethan Hale as your husband, from this day forward, he is no longer your husband!”

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1 I was Prince Arthur, the Emperor’s third son and Commander of the Imperial Armies. Yet when the enemy struck, I was lounging in The Nightingale’s Nest, a common brothel, with a mute courtesan named Elara in my arms, sipping fine spirits as flames consumed the city. In my past life, I had led the charge, breaking enemy lines until they retreated fifty miles beyond the walls—or so I believed. But it was a trap. Before I could rest, Crown Prince Lysander dragged me before the Emperor, accusing me of treason. My own soldiers, their faces twisted with rage, snarled, “You sent us to die! Our arrows were rotten—you betrayed us!” Then came my wife, Seraphina. She presented a forged letter, denounced my “greed,” and wept over our unconsummated marriage. Lysander, feigning sorrow, declared, “Brother, you sacrificed our people for the throne.” The Emperor had no choice. I was executed publicly, my corpse left to rot on the walls as Lysander took the throne and Seraphina became Empress. Now, my eyes snap open—I’m back. Back to the day the enemy attacks. … “Brother Arthur, this is a rare aromatic blend from the Golden Crescent, specially procured for you. Even merely inhaling its scent is said to invigorate the body.” Prince Lysander, a picture of geniality, prepared to hand me the wooden box, a faint, pleasant aroma already wafting from it. His smile was warm, humble. How could I have ever imagined that this man would later snatch the executioner’s blade and personally sever my limbs? At present, Emperor Sylas was ailing, and Lysander, as the Crown Prince, was overseeing the state. He merely needed to wait, and the entire kingdom would be his. So why, in my past life, had he twisted truth into lies to frame me? Was he truly willing to sacrifice an entire city’s populace just to eliminate me? I subtly recoiled, a slight frown creasing my brow. “My apologies, brother. After a severe injury I sustained in the borderlands, my physicians strictly warned me that I have an adverse reaction to certain exotic compounds. I fear I cannot accept His Highness’s kind offer.” A flicker of annoyance danced in Lysander’s eyes, quickly suppressed. He lowered his gaze, feigning a bitter smile. “Forgive me, brother. I was careless.” In the Emperor’s presence, Lysander handed the wooden box to the court physician, his expression open and earnest. “Please, Physician, examine this thoroughly for my brother’s sake!” Lysander’s feigned slight, his air of wounded dignity, was plain for all to see. The atmosphere in the Emperor’s private chambers grew heavy with unspoken sympathy for him. Emperor Sylas couldn’t help but scold me. “Years spent in the borderlands have made you insolent, Arthur. Lysander is your elder brother, and the heir to the throne. How dare you refuse a gift from him?” At that moment, the court physician confirmed, “Your Majesty, this aromatic powder is crafted from precious ingredients, truly a rare and valuable item.” Could the incense truly be harmless? Then why, in my past life, had I woken up disheveled, lying intimately with a man, bringing such disgrace upon the Imperial family that Emperor Sylas had, in his rage, stripped me of my royal title? Lysander’s lips curled into a fleeting, triumphant smirk in my direction, then he turned, bowing respectfully to Emperor Sylas. “My brother has been away from the capital for many years, Your Majesty. It is only natural that he feels somewhat estranged from us.” He spoke of the fading warmth between Imperial brothers, his voice growing increasingly despondent. Yet, he was the one who had recommended my posting to the borderlands, and he was the one who, just recently, had proposed my recall. What game was he playing? As expected, Emperor Sylas’s anger flared, dissolving into a harsh fit of coughing. With an imperial decree, he commanded that I must burn Lysander’s aromatic blend upon my return to my estate. I saw the distinct sigh of relief that Lysander couldn’t quite hide. A chill snaked down my spine. The incense had to be poisoned! But in my previous life, my own household healer had examined it, reaching the same conclusion as this court physician. The moment I stepped back into my mansion, Seraphina, my wife, rushed forward, flanked by her maidservants and attendants, urging me to bathe and change. “His Majesty has decreed the burning of the incense, my lord. We must hasten to obey, lest we incur the Emperor’s wrath.” Watching Seraphina’s eager face, a cold dread settled in my heart. She already knew everything that had transpired in the palace, even before I arrived. Was she afraid a moment’s delay might spoil her evening’s cruel spectacle? 2 Seraphina’s involvement was what I found most difficult to accept. She was not only my lawfully wedded wife, but she had once saved my life. So why, then, would she conspire to destroy me? I met Seraphina’s gaze as she prepared to unfasten my robes, and asked, my voice low and earnest, “Seraphina, have I not treated you well?” She blushed, a shy smile gracing her lips, and nodded. “My lord has been exceedingly kind to me.” Her innocent demeanor left me momentarily stunned. In my past life, it was she who had testified that I reveled in wanton slaughter, convincing everyone that I had intentionally allowed the enemy into the city. So I pressed gently, my voice soft as silk, “Years ago, when you saved my life, I gave you a personal jade pendant. Would you be willing to show it to me again?” Seraphina paused, a thoughtful expression on her face. “Of course, my lord. I shall retrieve it from my family estate at once.” I smiled faintly, gently pushing her hands away. “You go ahead and prepare the incense. I’ll join you after I’ve bathed.” The moment Seraphina left, I summoned my shadow guards. “Investigate several matters. Spare no expense.” In this life, I would protect myself. And I would protect this city. While Seraphina was occupied with the incense, I secretly made my way to Veridian City’s most renowned brothel, The Nightingale’s Nest. I selected a few courtesans, but it was the silent, plain-faced Elara that I pulled close, sharing my wine with her. Late into the night, Seraphina suddenly kicked open my chamber door. “You’re here drinking and carousing while the enemy is at the city gates!” In my previous life, I had heard her frantic news back at my mansion, and without a second thought, without even sending scouts to verify the threat, I had charged out with my personal guard. But then, her eyes had been filled with genuine panic. This time, as I sat here, playing the part of a dissolute rake, her anxiety seemed to hold a perverse undercurrent of excitement. I had hidden myself in a brothel, and she still found me. It seemed this night’s performance, she was determined to drag me into. I took a slow sip of wine, feigning disinterest. “You’ve come to the wrong person, my lady. The Imperial Guard of Veridian City falls under Prince Lysander’s command. The city’s safety is his responsibility.” Seraphina let out a frustrated, almost shrill gasp, her composure cracking. “Arthur! Is that a human thing to say?! And you call yourself a Commander! At a time of such devastation, you speak of division of labor?” Her voice rose. “Do you think I’m lying to you? Your presence here in a brothel is disappointing, but how could I joke about something so grave?” With that, she flung open the window. Sure enough, in the distance, plumes of fire flickered atop the city walls, and the sounds of screams echoed through the night. Yet, I remained unmoved. I even leaned in closer to Elara, gently brushing her hair, feeding her wine from my lips to hers. Seraphina, infuriated, hurled a wine pot at the table. “Arthur, as a member of the Royal Family, can you truly indulge in pleasure while abandoning our people? You are utterly debauched and shameless!” She stomped her foot in exasperation. “Quickly, send your army to engage them! If they breach the city, every citizen will suffer!” I leisurely picked up a pastry from the table, taking a bite. “I advise you to summon Prince Lysander. I dare not move my troops within the city without explicit Imperial orders.” Seraphina’s eyes blazed, brimming with tears. “You speak of being the Commander of the Imperial Armies, yet you are nothing but a coward, bound by archaic rules! You would disregard the lives of our people to avoid offending the Crown!” I was moments away from applauding her passionate speech when Prince Lysander, flanked by a few of his personal guards, arrived. “Brother Arthur! What are you still doing here? Quickly, command your forces to engage the enemy!” I casually plucked a grape Elara offered with my lips. “Your Highness, you command the Imperial Guard. Why aren’t you fulfilling your duties, instead of watching me drink in a brothel?” In my previous life, Lysander’s Imperial Guard had been severely lacking in battle-ready equipment. I had promptly diverted a portion of my own army’s resources to him. Both the horses and the bows had been perfectly functional then. For Lysander’s safety, I had even personally requested to lead the front lines, and from the city walls, I had watched the enemy retreat with my own eyes. To guard against deception, I had even dispatched a small, elite unit to scout the enemy lines, confirming their panicked flight before I returned to my mansion to rest. But when I woke, the city was filled with wails of agony, bodies littered the streets, and the citizens glared at me with such hatred they wished to flay me alive. How could it have happened? 3 As I pondered this, several of my Senior Officers burst into the room. “Commander Arthur! The enemy is upon us! Why are we still not engaging?” Their faces were a mixture of panic and fury. I took a slow sip of wine, my gaze dismissive. “The Imperial Guard, who are responsible for the city’s safety, haven’t moved. Why are you so frantic?” One of the officers roughly kicked aside a courtesan who was playing the lute. “The enemy is practically at our gates, and you’re here indulging in drink and pleasure? Are you still the Commander we revered? This is war! Not a theatrical performance!” I glanced at his sheathed blade. “Did His Highness Prince Lysander permit you to carry arms within the city? The Imperial Guard knows the city’s layout better than we do. If you insist on fighting, you should follow Prince Lysander’s orders.” The officers gripped their sword hilts, their voices low with fury. “Commander, what do you take us for? What do you take the lives of the city’s people for? How dare you privately transfer military authority!” “Outside are regular army units! The Imperial Guard alone cannot possibly withstand them!” I leaned further into Elara, playing the part of a defiant wastrel. “As you can see, I have a beautiful woman in my arms. How can I possibly leave? Now that I’m back in the capital, I realize I suffered too much in the borderlands. I’m actually considering resigning my commission to His Majesty and living as a carefree lord. How wonderful that would be!” Lysander’s face was etched with pain. “Brother Arthur! When I suggested your posting to the borderlands, it was only to temper you. I never imagined you would harbor such resentment towards me. Had I known, I would have simply allowed you to remain a powerless lord!” Seraphina choked back tears, her voice trembling. “To think that the hero I once admired is nothing more than a spineless coward with no ambition! You tormented prisoners and plundered villagers in the borderlands, then threatened me into silence. All of it, it seems, was to vent your resentment against the Imperial family for sending you away!” Seraphina then produced a scroll bearing the blood-sealed grievances of ten thousand villagers from the borderlands, displaying it for all to see. Everyone in the room turned to me, their eyes filled with a mixture of pity and disgust. In my previous life, Seraphina had endlessly produced such ‘evidence,’ constantly denouncing my cruelty and selfishness to the world, placing all the casualties of the war squarely on my shoulders. In an instant, the army and the populace were consumed by hatred for me. Nothing short of my death would quell their outrage. When Lysander had hacked at my limbs, the exhilaration and wild triumph in his eyes had been barely concealed. I narrowed my eyes, watching Seraphina’s performance. At this moment, her eyes were filled with fury and disappointment, but the faint upward curve of her lips betrayed her true feelings. Everyone in the room stared at me, their eyes bloodshot. “Commander, do you respect the armor on your back? Do you respect those who have followed you through life and death?” “We misjudged you! We chose the wrong master!” “If the enemy breaches the city today, every life lost will be because of you!” “Upon our return, we will inform everyone of what transpired here today. We will collectively petition for your court-martial!” I calmly poured myself another glass of wine. “Are you quite finished? You stand here, condemning me, yet you still haven’t moved to face the enemy. If they truly breach the city, won’t you share in the responsibility?” I raised my cup to Lysander. “Your Highness, the primary responsibility for Veridian City’s safety lies with the Imperial Guard under your command. At such a critical juncture, you’re not on the front lines but here, judging me. I can’t help but question your true intentions.” Lysander pointed at me, his voice a furious snarl. “You are truly twisting truth into lies! You are beyond reason!” I offered a cool smile. “I rather think it is you who is twisting truth into lies!” Lysander glared at me, a smirk playing on his lips. “I will lead my forces now. But I wonder how you will explain yourself to His Majesty later!” Lysander and his men hadn’t even left The Nightingale’s Nest when a voice boomed, stopping them in their tracks. “The Emperor is here!” Everyone immediately rose to offer their respects. Panic flickered in Lysander’s eyes. “Father, your son is rushing to meet the enemy. I fear I cannot attend to you here!” Seraphina looked at me triumphantly. “Your Majesty, have you come to punish Arthur? As a Commander, he has utterly disregarded human lives!” Emperor Sylas frowned, then glanced at his head eunuch, his presence commanding without needing to raise his voice. He walked to the central seat and settled down. Everyone present looked at me with a mixture of pity and schadenfreude. Lysander no longer seemed in a hurry to leave. “Father, your son specifically came to ask Brother Arthur to dispatch his troops to face the enemy. I never imagined he would claim he was too busy indulging in revelry to leave. It is truly disappointing.” Seraphina quickly knelt, presenting the scroll of blood-sealed grievances. “Your Majesty, your humble servant also wishes to present evidence. I implore you to thoroughly investigate Commander Arthur! Deliver justice for the people of the borderlands, and for the people of Veridian City!” I suppressed my anger, rising to my knees before Emperor Sylas. “Your Majesty, I beg your forgiveness! Your son was compelled to seek your presence in this lowly establishment! Because Prince Lysander has committed treason and colluded with the enemy, time is of the essence!” 4 Everyone in the room instantly turned their gaze to me, kneeling there. Lysander’s face was a storm of shifting emotions. He immediately pointed at me, his voice trembling with manufactured rage. “Arthur! I refrained from reporting you to His Majesty out of brotherly affection, yet you abandon the battle, then turn around and accuse me! What are your true intentions?!” Seraphina’s expression was complex. She covered her face, weeping. “Arthur, I never thought you were such a man! To escape punishment for your dereliction of duty, you would even frame the Crown Prince! Do you know this is a capital offense?! Do you wish to condemn an entire household?” Several Senior Officers quickly knelt. “Your Majesty, with external enemies invading, the Third Prince is still consumed by sibling rivalry. We refuse to serve under such a man!” Lysander, seizing the moment, made a passionate plea. “Father, the battle is paramount! Your son can overlook my brother’s wild accusations. I am even willing to lead the Imperial Guard and march out under Brother Arthur’s command. Please, Your Majesty, issue the order at once!” Lysander’s personal guard and the Senior Officers were nearly moved to tears. They all looked at him with profound admiration, then bowed with clasped hands. “Please, Your Majesty, command Commander Arthur to lead the army and meet the enemy!” I watched their concerted performance with cold eyes, my face expressionless. “I am quite drunk tonight, I fear, and unable to lead the army. To avoid delaying the war, I humbly request to be relieved of my commission as Commander.” Lysander stared at me as if I were mad. “Brother Arthur! At such a critical moment, you repeatedly refuse to engage the enemy. Perhaps you are the true traitor!” I countered coldly, “In that case, I ask His Majesty to send both Prince Lysander and myself to the Ministry of Justice for interrogation!” A flash of terror crossed Lysander’s eyes, but he quickly recovered, his tone earnest. “Once the war is over, your humble servant will naturally cooperate with His Majesty to uncover the truth. But now, the battle is urgent! It is still not too late to settle this matter after the enemy has been repelled!” Emperor Sylas, who had remained silent, cleared his throat. “I have already dispatched a portion of the Royal Guards to inspect the city walls. How the enemy could have reached the outskirts of the capital without a trace is indeed suspicious.” Lysander immediately grew agitated. “Brother Arthur’s army is stationed thirty miles outside the city! How could the enemy have bypassed them to reach the city’s perimeter? Does this not prove that he is the one colluding with the enemy?!” Several Senior Officers exchanged knowing glances, as if a profound revelation had just struck them. “No wonder the Commander ordered us to forgo our daily drills and simply rest in camp! He was clearing the way for them!” I scoffed inwardly. I had led these troops through countless campaigns. Allowing them a few days of rest was a boon, yet in their mouths, it became evidence of treason. At that moment, a sudden white flash erupted from somewhere within the city. My heart settled. The trap was sprung. I slowly raised my head, sweeping my gaze across the assembled faces, then turned to Emperor Sylas. “Since Prince Lysander and I each have our own claims, and giving command to either of us presents a risk, perhaps His Majesty should personally lead the defense!” After a short interval, a group of Royal Guards escorted Emperor Sylas to the city walls. Below the walls, a group of enemy soldiers were hoisting a massive battering ram against the city gate. In the distance, more raised their bows, shouting taunts and firing flaming arrows into the city. Several Senior Officers, desperate to engage, grabbed nearby bows and prepared to fire. I snatched the bows from their hands and flung them aside. Lysander’s eyes narrowed, sharp and dangerous. “Brother Arthur, if you won’t lead, fine! But why do you prevent us from defending the city?!” Seraphina’s eyes were bloodshot. She pointed at a few fallen guards’ bodies, weeping. “Arthur, open your eyes! Look at them! They died because of you! If the enemy breaches the city, there will be countless more casualties! How will you atone for that?!” The Senior Officers were so distraught, tears welled in their eyes. “You may be afraid to die, but we are not! If you continue to prevent us from fighting, do not blame us for disobeying orders!” I pointed at the bows I had thrown aside, my voice cutting through their anger. “If you do not wish to simply gift your arrows to the enemy, then by all means, fire away!” Everyone on the city walls froze. One officer even picked up a bow, examining it closely. Seraphina’s expression tightened with unease. “How did you know the bow was faulty?” I glanced at her. “I never said the bow was faulty!” Lysander quickly pulled Seraphina away. “If you cast aside the bow, it must be faulty! Are you trying to deflect blame with words? You accuse me of treason, but where is your proof? What we see now weighs even more heavily against you!” “This bow… the bowstring is skewed!” a Senior Officer exclaimed in astonishment. “The city’s armory falls under His Highness Prince Lysander’s command,” I said, bowing deeply to Emperor Sylas. “Could this not also be considered evidence of his collusion?” Lysander’s emotions flared. His breathing grew heavy, completely losing his usual cultured demeanor. He pointed at me, shouting, “Brother Arthur! On the day you returned to the capital, you presented me with a batch of weaponry, claiming it would bolster the Imperial Guard’s strength. So this was the trap you set for me! Thankfully, I didn’t listen to your suggestion to remove the Lyra sigil. The sigil is still on the bow hilt! You won’t frame me!” A Royal Guard picked up the bow and handed it to Emperor Sylas. The Emperor glanced at the Lyra sigil, then his eyes turned icy as he looked at me. “How do you explain this?”

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My beauty once dazzled Veridian City, my charm coveted by every noble. Yet the year I came of age, I deliberately seduced my brother’s dearest friend—one reckless night that changed everything. When our scandal broke, his heartbroken lover Celeste fled the capital. I became the envied Lady Finch, dwelling in the city’s grandest manor. Every time Commander Alistair returned victorious, our nights burned with passion—until his first love returned with a child. He gifted her my finest property, let the toddler call him ‘Papa,’ while I smiled in silence. He believed I’d learned obedience. Little did he know I’d struck a deal with the Emperor: in one month, I’d gain freedom through a political marriage to the Northern Tribes. 1. After Commander Alistair returned from his audience with Emperor Julian, he didn’t come to me. Instead, he walked directly to the west wing, where Celeste and her daughter resided. It wasn’t until dusk that he emerged, casting a dismissive glance towards my courtyard. I used to exhaust myself, contriving every possible way to keep him by my side for a little longer. He would always make excuses about military duties. Even when he did stay home with me, it was never for more than an hour. I had thrown tantrums, I had wept, I had screamed. But he would simply tell me to be sensible, to remember that as a wife, I shouldn’t be so spoiled and willful. But I learned to be compliant. I learned to be virtuous. I learned to be magnanimous. And yet, he brought another woman and her child into our home. It seemed my “sensibility” had merely served to pave the way for her. Late that night, I extinguished the candles, preparing for bed. A soft knock sounded at my door. Three short, two long—Alistair’s customary signal from his army days. I donned my robe and rose, surprised to see Alistair himself standing before me, his face etched with worry. Seeing his troubled expression, and recalling the muffled sobs from Celeste and Lily’s wing earlier that evening, I knew. His plea to the Emperor had not gone smoothly. Emperor Julian had always treated me like his own daughter; he would naturally oppose Alistair’s attempt to bring a mistress into the household with the status of a legitimate wife. His presence at my door now could only mean one thing: he was here to plead on their behalf, to convince me to allow them to stay. When he had first brought Celeste and Lily home, everyone in Finch Manor had expected me to dissolve into tears and furious protest, to forbid their entry. After all, I had once been so notoriously spoiled, so impetuous. I had even dared to defy Imperial decrees. But this time, it was I who had gone to the Imperial Palace to secure his decree. Alistair stood at my door for a long time before his voice, dry and hoarse, finally broke the silence. “Genevieve, Celeste and her daughter are…” I didn’t let him finish. I welcomed him inside, then handed him the Imperial decree allowing him to bring in a second woman. “Welcome them into the house,” I said, my voice flat. “It’s hardly proper for a woman and child to be without a place of their own.” Alistair’s expression was one of profound shock as he took in my impassive face. I continued, “Your military honors were earned through years of perilous campaigns, through risking your life. Don’t waste them on such trivial matters.” I smiled, a semblance of understanding on my face. Alistair stiffened, his voice tinged with surprise. “How did you… how did you convince His Majesty?” Indeed. The opportunity he couldn’t obtain even with his glorious military achievements, how had I secured it? Of course, it was by offering myself for an annulment and a diplomatic marriage, going to the Northern Tribes in place of a princess. I would dedicate the rest of my life to safeguarding the peace of Aethelgard, and I would leave Alistair Finch forever. Now, between us, all that remained was a single, sealed decree of annulment. That night, as if to compensate me, Alistair offered to stay in my chambers. I refused. The next morning, he wasted no time in demanding I relinquish control of the household finances. I agreed. But as he leafed through the ledgers and deeds, a frown creased his brow. “Are there truly this many accounts and contracts for the estate?” I nodded. “Commander, if you doubt me, you may review them all from the beginning. They were all entrusted to me by your mother, the Lady Finch.” I knew Alistair, a man of war, found matters of accounts tedious. He wouldn’t scrutinize them carefully. He certainly wouldn’t discover the official annulment decree, prepared by my own hand, hidden at the bottom of a stack of documents. Once he affixed his seal to it and it was delivered to the palace, Alistair and I would be “free to part ways, each seeking our own joy.” 2. I stood quietly, clutching a handkerchief, my heart strangely calm. “If the Commander finds these duties too overwhelming, I can help Miss Celeste share the burden.” Alistair would never agree. I knew he feared Celeste might be mistreated, and he wanted to give her only the best. Sure enough, his face hardened. Without a second glance, he pressed his signet ring onto each contract, stamping them with his family seal. “Genevieve, I want you to manage the household, but you’ve worked so hard these past few years,” he said, his voice softer. “The physician said you need proper rest if we are to have a child.” “A child.” What a noble reason. He already had a child with another woman, so why would he care about one with me? With Alistair’s sealed annulment decree safely in my possession, I went to the Imperial Palace. In less than half an hour, Empress Eleanor emerged to greet me. “The Emperor has approved the annulment. The decree will be issued in one month. You may return home.” I was stunned, almost disbelieving how smoothly everything had gone. As I prepared to leave, the Empress called me back, her voice kind, tinged with a hint of sorrow. “There’s something… I believe you should know.” “The Royal Physician investigated. The calming tea you brought last time contained a significant amount of musk. This particular kind of musk, from the Northern steppes, is odorless and colorless, but extremely potent and cold in nature. For a woman, it can very likely lead to permanent infertility.” Her words were soft, yet they rendered my mind utterly blank. Northern musk! That was the kind found only in the Commander’s border camps. And that calming tea? Alistair himself had brewed it for me. I had drunk it for three years. Three agonizing years, I had suffered over my inability to conceive. Unable to give Alistair a son or daughter. Yet Alistair had always said it didn’t matter. He had even vehemently refused when family members urged him to take concubines. He had promised me a life of “one man, one woman, forever.” Tears I could no longer hold back streamed down my face. So this was his sacred vow to me. This was the man I had loved for five years. Returning to Finch Manor, I realized I had left one ledger behind. Unwilling to cause any extra fuss, I went directly to Alistair’s study with it. As I entered, I saw scattered letters on his desk. “My heart burns like a candle for you, weeping tears of longing.” “Though we lack the wings of two phoenixes to fly together, our souls are perfectly attuned.” Every line, every phrase, spoke of a lover’s sweet devotion. I glanced at them coldly, then turned to leave. As I did, I accidentally knocked over a letter box on the table. Three years of marriage. One thousand eight hundred and twenty-five letters. Every single day, they had been secretly exchanging affections behind my back, even on our wedding night. “One man, one woman, forever.” I murmured the words Alistair had so often spoken. I knew now. This marriage, which he had so painstakingly feigned for three years, was nothing but an illusion, a dream. Thankfully, there was only one month left until the Emperor’s decree of annulment. And Alistair Finch’s wedding day with Celeste. It was the same day. 3. Twenty days remained until the Emperor’s decree. Alistair’s returns to Finch Manor grew increasingly late. My maid, Elara, told me that Alistair had been taking Celeste to every social event in the capital—from the Princess Royal’s spring gala to the Earl’s son’s christening. He even found ways to have Celeste make an appearance at exclusive poetry readings, events strictly for gentlemen. I knew this was the fastest way for Celeste to integrate into the city’s noble circles. All it required was trampling on my reputation. After all, what respectable household brings a woman who isn’t even their wife, but a paramour, to a formal banquet? Today, I went as usual to pay my respects to Lady Finch, Alistair’s mother. As I entered, I saw Celeste clinging to Alistair’s arm, her face demurely flushed. Alistair sat beside her, his gaze filled with a tenderness I had never seen directed at me. Upon seeing me, Lady Finch’s face instantly darkened. Her tone was sharp, cutting. “You have the gall to show your face here? You and Alistair have been married for five years, yet you haven’t produced an heir, nor will you allow Alistair to take another wife. If Celeste weren’t coming into the household, the Finch lineage would be ruined by your hand!” My bowing posture stiffened. I raised my head to look at Alistair, but he merely turned his head away awkwardly, not a single word in my defense. This wasn’t the first time Lady Finch had chided me about an heir, but it was the first time Alistair hadn’t spoken up for me. It was he who had prevented my pregnancy. It was he who had refused to take a concubine. I paused, silently, my heart quickly becoming devoid of sorrow or joy. “Your daughter-in-law acknowledges her fault.” Celeste spoke up, feigning concern. “Oh, Auntie, please don’t be angry. Even if Sister can’t bear children, please try to calm yourself.” Only now did I learn that Celeste was Alistair’s distant cousin. They had been childhood sweethearts in their village. Later, Alistair had gained military honors and risen through the ranks, eventually catching the eye of a Princess Royal—me. It was only after our fateful night, after our hasty marriage, that Celeste had been forced to leave him. He had never loved me. I lowered my eyes, masking the bitterness within. I took a seat as far away from them as possible. A short while later, a maidservant brought out several plates of pastries. I was about to reach for one when I heard Alistair’s furious voice. “Who made these almond shortbreads?! Drag them out and give them twenty lashes!” My hand, reaching for the pastry, froze. I instinctively looked at Alistair. For three years of our marriage, Alistair had been famous for publicly requesting at an Imperial banquet that all almond-related dishes be removed. Because I was allergic to almonds. For this, Alistair had become every woman’s ideal husband in Veridian City. I was about to intercede on the servant’s behalf when I heard him say, “All of you, listen well. Miss Celeste cannot eat anything with almonds in it. If I catch any of you forgetting again, don’t blame me for being unkind.” Those two brief sentences shattered every last fragment of my pride. Until now, even knowing that Alistair had never loved me, knowing he had tricked me into seeking the Emperor’s blessing for Celeste’s entry, knowing he was systematically withdrawing all his former favoritism towards me, I had still clung to a desperate hope. I had told myself: five years of acquaintance, three years as husband and wife, Alistair must still hold some affection for me. Even if just a sliver. But it seemed… even that last sliver of affection was a lie.

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1 At the wedding, my fiancé’s best friend, Julia, appeared in a stunning bridal gown. She usurped my place as the bride, exchanging rings with Andy Thorne, speaking vows meant for me. The sudden swap of brides left me exposed to the whispering judgment of every guest. I tried to demand an explanation from Andy, but he simply shrugged, utterly unconcerned: “Julia was merely showing consideration for your difficult pregnancy, stepping in to spare you. Instead of being grateful and resting, you’re indulging in petty jealousy, judging a true friend with a malicious heart? When will you stop with this ridiculous jealousy? Julia and I are just friends, a bond deeper than any romantic dalliance. Even if there were anything more, it wouldn’t be your place to question it.” Before every single guest, Andy and Julia shared a long, passionate kiss. After the ceremony, he carried her—drunken and oblivious—to our bridal suite to rest, leaving me alone, at the mercy of his groomsmen, who relentlessly plied me with drink. While I faced the terrifying prospect of miscarriage, brought on by emotional distress, Andy was celebrating his wedding night with his “best friend.” Later, when I had a small package delivered to him—a chilling, undeniable testament to the life he’d carelessly destroyed—Andy gripped my shoulders, his eyes wild with frantic desperation. “Julia and I are done! Stop these cruel jokes, give me back our child!” At the wedding venue, Julia glided in, adorned in the bridal gown I had personally designed, as Andy’s groomsmen erupted in cheers. I, the rightful bride, was barred at the entrance by security, forced to watch as they exchanged rings, a silent, helpless witness. For this wedding, I had tirelessly worked through my pregnancy, even lying awake all last night, trembling with anticipation. All because, after seven years of loving him, Andy Thorne was finally willing to make me his wife. Yet today, the very rings and gown I had carefully prepared, the symbols of our union, were now adorning Julia. For a moment, I truly believed exhaustion had finally driven me to hallucinate. “Look at Clara, she’s completely dumbfounded!” “After chasing Andy for so long, and only getting a proposal because she was pregnant, the bride suddenly gets swapped for Julia. She’s definitely going to throw another tantrum.” “Clara always tried to control Andy, stopping him from hanging out with us, especially forbidding him from being with Julia.” “Now, she just looks like a pathetic clown!” Andy’s groomsmen gossiped freely, their voices loud and utterly heedless of my presence or feelings. I knew they were doing this deliberately. They had always been Andy’s closest confidantes, especially Julia, the only woman among them. A single phone call from her, and Andy, even if he was in bed with me, would immediately stop everything and rush to meet her. This had caused countless arguments between Andy and me. But due to the strategic alliance between the Vance and Thorne families, and my genuine love for him, I always ended up apologizing first, seeking reconciliation. Andy would always “forgive” me, saying, “Clara, Julia and the guys are my best friends. You know your husband, I’m loyal to a fault. How could I ignore a call from my friends?” Unlike other young lords, Andy valued sentiment. In the early days of our relationship, he had been endlessly attentive, showering me with affection. It had utterly captivated me, drawing me into his world. The security guard still held me back, unyielding, as on the dais, the officiant had already begun the exchange of vows between the “bride and groom.” Andy knelt before Julia, his voice imbued with tender emotion, “Clara, will you marry me?” A flicker of jealousy and resentment crossed Julia’s eyes. She glanced at me in the distance, then demurely accepted Andy’s proposal. The hall immediately erupted in a cacophony of whispers. “Isn’t that Julia Davis, the youngest of the Davis family? Why is that Thorne boy calling her Clara?” “Ah, you don’t know. Today was supposed to be the Thorne-Vance wedding, and Clara is Lady Vance’s name. But for some reason, Lady Vance never showed up!” “Could the bride have been swapped? I heard Andy and Julia were childhood sweethearts, perfect for each other. If it weren’t for Clara suddenly appearing and clinging to Andy, they would have been together ages ago.” “Exactly. The Thornes and Davises have been wealthy for generations. The Vances are just nouveau riche. Why would Andy choose a crude upstart over a refined childhood sweetheart?” Julia. Always Julia. Every time she appeared, everyone seemed to believe she was a better match for Andy. Yet she always played the innocent, claiming she and Andy were “just friends.” Listening to the mounting whispers from the guests, I hardened my heart, pushed past the security guard, and burst through the doors. I stormed directly to Andy, my voice trembling with suppressed rage. “Andy Thorne, what is the meaning of this? Today is our wedding! You gave my gown and rings to Julia, and you’re declaring vows to her?!” 2 “Are you truly blind to Julia’s intentions for you? Or perhaps… you reciprocate them? You will give me an explanation today, or we are finished, right here, right now!” Andy, who had initially reached for my hand upon seeing me, flinched back as I flung his arm away and launched into my furious interrogation. His face darkened, yet his words remained dismissive: “What do you mean? Julia was merely showing consideration for your difficult pregnancy, stepping in to spare you. Instead of being grateful and resting, you’re indulging in petty jealousy, judging a true friend with a malicious heart?” I stared at him, utterly incredulous. “Stepping in for me?” Since Andy and I began our relationship, this wasn’t the first time Julia had “stepped in” for me. When Andy took me to various business galas, Julia was always trailing by our side, pointedly ignoring my conversations with Andy. When others invited Andy to open the dance with his girlfriend, she would preemptively link her arm through his, sneering at me, “Clara, a country bumpkin like you, can you even dance? Scram.” Andy would frown, about to speak up for me, but then Julia would feign wounded innocence, her eyes welling up, “But I’m your best friend, are you going to abandon your friends for a pretty face?” and he would helplessly close his mouth, allowing me to be pushed aside. Even during intimate dates between Andy and me, his groomsmen would barge in, egging Julia on to kiss Andy. “No offense, sister-in-law, but let Julia test if Andy’s lips are good for kissing!” They laughed raucously, pushing the heart-shaped cake I had personally baked towards Julia. Julia squeezed me out, settling beside Andy, playfully chiding, “Andy and I are just strictly platonic friends!” Yet, with a glance full of adoration, she fed him the cake, as if she were his lover. I closed my eyes, battling the sharp ache in my chest, as I looked at Andy Thorne, the groom in his pristine suit—the very image I had longed for in my dreams. “Andy, today is our wedding. I don’t want to argue with you. Just make Julia give me back my gown and rings, promise that you’ll cut all ties with her, and I will pretend none of this ever happened.” Andy scoffed, a cold sneer twisting his lips. “Clara, what is wrong with you? When will you get over this ridiculous jealousy? Julia and I are just friends, a bond deeper than any romantic dalliance. Even if there were anything more, it wouldn’t be your place to question it.” Julia glared at me. “Clara, I was just being kind, stepping in as the bride for you! Look at you, with such a big belly, how inconvenient would it be to wear a wedding dress?” She turned, pouting sweetly to Andy. “Andy, I’ve seen enough of women like Clara—always so dramatic, constantly jealous, terrified their man will cheat. You mustn’t pity her!” Andy looked at me thoughtfully, the disgust in his eyes deepening. The officiant, looking uncomfortable, cleared his throat. “Mr. Thorne, the vows are complete. It’s time for the groom and bride to kiss, if you please…” “Julia, look up.” Andy shot me a provocative glance, then tilted Julia’s chin and kissed her. The crowd gasped, then Andy’s groomsmen led a boisterous round of applause. “Congratulations, Andy, on winning your beautiful bride! Later, you must have a drink with us, your buddies!” “Oh, look, the bride’s blushing…” Amidst the chorus of blessings, I stood frozen, my face ghostly pale. My lips trembled, a voice that sounded alien to my own escaped me. “Andy…” Andy finally released Julia, raising an eyebrow at me, his voice languid. “Clara, do you truly think that just because you’re carrying my child, you can walk all over me? I’ve been too lenient with you lately. Don’t forget who was begging for my attention, desperate to be with me in the first place.” The smile faded from Andy’s lips. He issued his final command. “Clara, this kiss today is a lesson for you, and a compensation for Julia. You are still my bride. When my parents arrive later, during the toasts, you will follow behind Julia and me.” I listened numbly. Andy took my silence as acquiescence. He roughly pulled me forward, causing me to stumble, almost losing my balance. Julia looked at me with disdain. “Clara, you truly are useless. If it weren’t for your brother, Julian Vance, willing to throw money at the Thornes, Mother and Father would never have considered you as a daughter-in-law.” Julian Vance was my brother, though not by blood. When I was nine, my parents adopted twelve-year-old Julian, the orphaned son of their close friends. When I turned twelve, my parents, like their friends, passed away. A fourteen-year-old Julian raised me, taking on the roles of both father and mother. 3 He had built an empire from nothing, becoming a new magnate in the City, yet was ridiculed as “nouveau riche” by these old-money families. To be with Andy, I had indeed begged Julian to invest a considerable fortune into the Thorne family. The Thornes, though boasting a vast and venerable estate, were in steady decline. Even if the Thornes disdained my background, they could not refuse the money practically handed to them. After I insisted on keeping Andy’s child, Julian, uncharacteristically, flew into a rage and severely beat Andy. And he had refused to see me ever since. During the wedding preparations, I hesitated for a long time but still sent him an invitation. It too, sank without a trace. “Father, Mother, you’re here.” A middle-aged couple, impeccably dressed in expensive attire, stepped out of their car. Andy smiled, striding confidently to greet them. “Mr. and Mrs. Thorne.” Julia followed closely behind, her smile sugary sweet. She had changed out of the bridal gown, but still wore a vibrant, striking crimson gown, as if afraid no one would notice her. Mrs. Thorne caressed Julia’s hand, her face beaming. “Julia, you look absolutely beautiful today!” She turned to me, her smile instantly vanishing. “Clara, what is the meaning of this? You’re marrying my son, and you’re not even wearing a wedding dress?” I tried to explain, but Julia viciously pinched me from behind. The pain made me almost stumble. Mrs. Thorne’s expression grew even more severe. “You’re just pregnant, aren’t you? Are you really so delicate? When I was pregnant with Andy, I wasn’t nearly this fragile!” Julia echoed triumphantly, “Exactly. An upstart from nowhere, acting like some pampered princess.” It was true, I had been pampered growing up, but it was due to my health. As a premature baby, my parents showered me with endless care. After they passed, Julian was equally devoted. If I hadn’t fallen for Andy, I would never have had to endure such hardship. I clutched my lower abdomen. The rapid succession of shocks left me feeling disoriented. Coupled with the recent pain, my stomach was now subtly aching. Andy frowned, glancing at me. He supported me, but his voice was laced with sarcasm. “If you’re not feeling well, stay out of the way. Why try to be strong? You were so demanding just now, and yet you still need Julia to stand in for you during the toasts?” Seeing me silent, head bowed, he let out an impatient “Tsk,” clearly bored. He turned away, ignoring me. I watched as he, arm-in-arm with Julia, toasted his parents, then went around, toasting each guest. Everyone seemed to have accepted Julia as the true bride of the ceremony. Cheers of “May Andy and Julia enjoy a hundred years of happiness!” and “May you soon be blessed with children!” rang out continuously. Andy thanked each person, never once correcting them. Finally, the wedding concluded. Everyone had eaten and drunk their fill and were preparing to disperse. Mrs. Thorne forcefully dragged me to the door, making me stand with her to see the guests off. I stood there, feeling utterly disgraced, enduring the strange, pitying glances of the departing guests. Then Andy approached, carrying a drunken Julia in his arms. “Mother, Clara, Julia’s had too much. Give me the car keys, I’ll take her home first.” Mrs. Thorne looked at the mumbling Julia with tenderness, then chided him, “Home? Where would she go? Julia needs a good rest! And you needn’t bother taking her. Isn’t there a large room upstairs? Let Julia sleep there!” I froze, then cried out, anxious, “Mother, that’s Andy and my bridal suite…” Mrs. Thorne cut me off, displeased. “What’s wrong with the bridal suite?! It’s settled!” I pleaded with my eyes towards Andy. A flicker of hesitation crossed his face, but ultimately, he agreed. Mrs. Thorne shot me a dismissive look, then joined Mr. Thorne downstairs to rest. I stared blankly towards the master bedroom on the second floor. Andy had carried Julia in a while ago, but he hadn’t reappeared. My heart ached with a bitter pang. I tried to console myself, to believe in Andy. It wasn’t until my vision blurred that I realized I was weeping. Shadows fell, and I found myself encircled by a group of men. “Hey, Clara, why are you crying? Aren’t you happy you’re married?” The man who spoke was Marcus, the one among Andy’s groomsmen who targeted me the most. Simply because Julia disliked me, he took pleasure in tormenting me, eager to curry favor with her. Seeing that Andy was taking an unusually long time to come downstairs, Marcus’s expression soured. With a retaliatory smirk, he filled a glass to the brim and forcefully pressed it to my lips. “As your brother-in-law, I’m toasting you, sister-in-law. You can’t refuse me, can you?” I was shaking with rage. “Don’t you know I’m pregnant?” I asked, my voice trembling. Marcus scoffed, deliberately raising his voice. “So what if you’re pregnant? Besides, who knows whose baby that is in your belly?”

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