Author: Momo Chan

1 Bradley’s slap tore open my gunshot wound, sending me back into surgery. When I woke, my family stood outside my room, whispering. Clara’s swollen belly stretched her dress—seven, maybe eight months along. No wonder they’d sounded tense when the consulate called about my injury. They probably wished I’d died overseas. Mom finally entered, avoiding my gaze. “Evie… it’s been about six months…” I laughed bitterly. “Twelve months in a year, and she’s nearly due. Six months?” She burst into tears. “Let her have Bradley! She’s depressed, not as strong as you!” My blood ran cold. “Mom, you swore he was just after our money—that you’d never let him near us.” 2 My parents had adopted Clara, a fact Bradley learned the very first time he came to our house. Mom, right in front of the whole family, had thrown every single gift he’d brought out the door, declaring that she’d never, ever agree to us being together. That was the first time I ever saw Bradley cry. He sat in his twenty-thousand-dollar beat-up used car, the trunk overflowing with gifts, clutching the steering wheel and sobbing. We never broke up, though. Bradley was highly capable at work, had no bad habits, and was incredibly ambitious. His only flaw was his humble background, but I didn’t see that as an insurmountable obstacle. Mom would poke my head, scolding me for being foolishly devoted. “He’s got the look of an inheritance hunter, that pauper from out of state, barely making enough to cover rent after paying for food. His entire lineage couldn’t scrape together a down payment for a house. What do you even see in him?” “I’m telling you, men like him just want to marry an only child from the big city to change their fate. Just you wait, once he’s got you wrapped around his finger, he’ll drag all his distant relatives over, and you’ll be in for it!” Her words were always harsh, something I’d grown used to. But this time, I defended Bradley, albeit a little helplessly. “He doesn’t mean that, and I’m not an only child. There’s Clara, isn’t there? You’re really overthinking this.” Mom rolled her eyes, then craned her neck to peek at Clara, who was watching TV in the living room. She whispered urgently, “No matter how close, she’s still adopted. When we get old, most of what we own will still be yours. Get that straight!” At the time, I thought her words were a bit much, but a faint warmth still bloomed in my chest. I’d always been touched by how my parents never let Clara’s presence diminish their love for me, which in turn made me dote on Clara even more. I just never imagined that a year after becoming a war correspondent, everything would shatter. 3 Mom had no answer for my questions, only sitting there and weeping. But I felt no sympathy. In my year in the war zone, I’d seen too many displaced refugees. Some had lost their entire families, their only possessions bags of ashes. Others were toddlers, barely three or four, who would go to the cemetery alone every night, sleeping at their mothers’ graves because their longing far outweighed their fear. So Clara’s “pity” held no sway over me. I only wanted to know the reason for the betrayal. “Mom, go get Bradley. I need to talk to him.” “Evie!” Mom looked desperate, trying to dissuade me, but I couldn’t keep my temper in check. “He’s a grown man, he pulled such a shameless stunt, and he doesn’t even have the courage to explain it to his ex-fiancée face-to-face?” I’d already categorized myself as his ex. When Bradley entered, his face was a mask of guilt. “Evie, I’m so sorry. I messed up. Clara’s far along, and she hasn’t been well lately, always throwing up. I know your temper, and I misunderstood… I thought you… That’s why I acted so impulsively and laid hands on you.” I hadn’t even had a chance to say a single word. “Bradley, is that all you have to tell me?” No explanation for betraying me, for getting my own sister pregnant, just an entire conversation framed around protecting Clara, dumping all the blame squarely on my head. It took me a long time to find my voice again, my throat raw. “Do you remember why I became a war correspondent?” Bradley’s face stiffened. 4 Bradley and I were classmates in journalism school, and after earning our master’s degrees, we were lucky enough to join the same network. After a year of working, he spent all his savings on a used car and showed up at my door. After being sent away, he persisted, returning several more times until Mom finally declared that he’d only be worthy of discussing marriage when he bought a house. But this was the Capital City. Bradley could sell himself off and still not afford a bathroom here. Buying a house was a pipe dream. It so happened that the war correspondent previously assigned to The Sands had requested to be recalled due to a family emergency. Eager for the higher pay, Bradley applied to replace him. I actually didn’t want him to go. That was a place where human lives were cheaper than stray dogs. Bradley had barely any field experience; he’d have no idea what dangers he’d face there. “Evie, don’t worry, it’s only for a year. I’ll protect myself. Wait for me to come back and marry you!” Bradley had spoken with such heartfelt emotion, even giving me his ATM card. Unfortunately, he never made it. He tumbled down the stairs while packing his bags and broke his leg. The overseas assignment was left open, and the entire network was frantic, scrambling to find a replacement, but everyone they asked turned them down. When Mom found out, she sat on the sofa, sneering. “I bet he did it on purpose. To win you over, to make you devoted to him. Applying for a war zone, then at the last minute, too scared to go, so he conveniently broke his leg. Only a fool like you would fall for that!” Of course, I didn’t listen. Because this was the second time Bradley had cried. He dumped his savings book and bank cards into my lap, refused to stay in the hospital, cursed himself for being useless, claiming he couldn’t give me a good future, and even suggested we break up. I didn’t agree. After all, there were no substantive, irreconcilable conflicts between us. The overseas assignment couldn’t be left open indefinitely. The leadership, at their wit’s end, finally approached me. I agreed instantly. Bradley went crazy, saying it was too dangerous, that I couldn’t go, that I shouldn’t be impulsive for his sake. But it wasn’t for him. My dream was always to be a frontline journalist. Though The Sands was incredibly dangerous, with lives lost at any moment, I wasn’t afraid. I was prepared for the sacrifice. These were things I’d never told him. To the very end, Bradley believed I did it all for him. 5 The hospital room was deathly quiet. Bradley kept his head bowed, his gaze flickering away from mine, before finally muttering, “I’m sorry.” He looked so guilty, so pitiful. Yet, I almost laughed. I had planned to tell him everything when I got back home and was promoted, but now, there was simply no need. Besides, before I left, he’d sworn to the heavens that if anything happened to me, he wouldn’t live either. Bradley, the liar. “Evie, I’m sorry. I was just so lonely, so exhausted. I’m truly sorry.” Enough. I didn’t want to hear that phrase again. When I was running through hails of bullets and explosions, when I took enormous risks to film firsthand footage from the conflict zone and send it back home, when I huddled alone behind a sand dune, hungry and cold, gritting my teeth to tend to my wounds—all I thought about was Bradley. That year, his occasional texts and video calls were my only comfort. My entire heart, wasted on a scoundrel! I was fighting tooth and nail overseas for our future, while he was carousing with my sister… “How dare you send me those cloying, sickening messages while you were messing around with Clara?” “I was worried about you!” Bradley seemed to latch onto a convenient excuse. “You were out there alone, in such a dangerous place. What if I’d told you we were breaking up, told you about all this, and you’d lost control and something terrible happened?” “Evie, I was doing this for your own good. Besides, we hadn’t seen each other for a year. You were so busy every day, you barely had time for me. And me? I had to help you look after your parents and this house. Do you know how awful I felt every time your parents would tear into me?” So, it was my fault, after all? I bit down hard, so enraged I felt bile rise in my throat. “This is your idea of ‘looking after’?! Bradley, have you no shame?! You ‘looked after’ her straight into my sister’s bed!” My chest tightened with each breath, a sharp, throbbing pain emanating from my healing wound. In the past, Bradley would have rushed to my side, fussing over me. But now, he simply stood up, his posture stiff, his voice cold. “It’s already happened. Clara and I are truly in love. Love isn’t wrong. Evie, let’s just break up.” 6 Bradley left. Furious, I looked up just as my gaze met Clara’s through the window. The moment our eyes connected, she spun around, quickly scurrying away, enveloped by my parents and Bradley. Truly, a guilty conscience written all over them. The hospital room felt hollow. I lay defeated on the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling, tears streaming down my face. Five years of a relationship, from school to professional life. At least in love, I had given everything. My phone was still filled with videos and photos of us that my friends had envied. People always talked about “from school days to the altar.” Until this very day, I had naively believed that was the story of Bradley and me. After that shouting match, no one from my family showed up for the rest of the day, not even for dinner. My colleague, Chloe, was the one who brought me food. “I heard about what happened,” Chloe said, holding the food bowl. She thought for a long time, then just sighed. She probably hadn’t encountered such a bizarre situation either. My mood was so foul that I took two bites and put down my chopsticks. Chloe tried to cheer me up, recounting a lot of network gossip, but I couldn’t even crack a smile. The room grew quiet again. After a long while, she gently pressed my hand and hesitantly spoke. “Evie, there’s something I don’t know if I should say. I don’t want you to be in the dark, and I worry you might do something impulsive…” “Is it about Bradley?” Chloe nodded, her expression strained. I closed my eyes. “Tell me. I can handle anything now.”

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I spent two years recuperating in New Zealand. On my first day back, my cousin, Chloe, organized a welcome banquet for me. The guests were all the usual young masters and ladies from our circle. It had been a long time. The girls who used to be so close to me were unusually quiet today, each one strangely subdued. Even my younger brother, Finn, the heir to the Beaumont fortune, who once trailed obediently behind me, sweetly calling me “big sis,” now seemed distant. It was my welcome banquet, yet the guests largely ignored the guest of honor. A commotion erupted at the entrance. Asher Montgomery walked in, holding a woman’s hand, and the quiet banquet felt like oil had been poured into still waters. My brother was the first to rise and greet them. “Asher, Phoebe, you’re finally here.” The other young women, who moments before had been so stiff and quiet, suddenly livened up: “Phoebe, come over here.” “We saved a spot just for you.” The young woman, surrounded by everyone, smiled charmingly, her movements graceful. Asher, by her side, gazed at her with such tender affection, they looked like a match made in heaven. If Asher wasn’t my fiancé, I’d be cheering for this couple. My cousin, Chloe, ever the instigator, leaned in and whispered, “See, Evie? This woman is their stand-in, but she’s become the real deal. If you’d come back any later, she’d probably be pregnant already.” My cousin and I grew up together. Aunt Linda, being rather lax, often left Chloe at our house, where she was raised alongside me. My mother, having no way to refuse her own sister, simply acquiesced. Thankfully, our family wealth was vast, and raising one more child was no burden at all. Two months ago, Chloe sent me a photo. In it, Asher was intimately embracing a young woman. She bore a striking five-point resemblance to me. I’d heard that Phoebe, the new sensation from The Thorntons, had been raised in the countryside. It wasn’t until I left the Capital City two years ago for my recuperation that she returned to The Thorntons’ estate and began to frequent all the social events in our circle. Initially, Phoebe imitated my style of dress, and because of her similar appearance, others mocked her as a cheap imitation. But gradually, people in the circle discovered that while Phoebe resembled me in looks and style, her personality was gentle and graceful. Compared to my brash and headstrong nature, Phoebe was far more likable. Beyond her gentleness, Phoebe was also skilled at livening up the atmosphere. In summer, she’d invite everyone rafting; in autumn, she’d organize fly-fishing trips; in winter, she’d whisk them off to exclusive ski resorts. Soon, she became the new darling of the social scene. My former circle of friends slowly gravitated towards her. Even my brother, Finn, who initially disdained her, gradually began to treat her like an older sister, finding a warmth and sibling bond with her he’d never experienced before. And my fiancé, Asher Montgomery, the Montgomery heir, went from loudly scolding her not to imitate me, to gazing at her now with eyes full of tender affection, as if Phoebe were truly his fiancée. My cousin, my ever-present sentinel, always relayed every detail to me, making it impossible for me to feign ignorance. “Phoebe, like me?” I looked at her with a piercing gaze. Phoebe’s body trembled, and she instinctively recoiled behind Asher. I scoffed softly. “You all need an eye exam. Where do we look alike?” Today, I was wearing a white cocktail dress. Phoebe was also in white. Around my neck hung a valuable pink diamond necklace. She, too, wore a pink necklace, though hers was of pink pearls. Phoebe was undeniably pretty. But even when she wore clothes of the same color and similar jewelry, I never thought her features resembled mine. My words cast an immediate silence over the room. People exchanged glances, their expressions unreadable. Phoebe was the first to react, her face pale, yet she said with a hint of defiance, “Miss Beaumont’s beauty is famously the Capital City’s finest. I hardly compare to Miss Beaumont.” Everyone present seemed to show disapproval at the humble tone in Phoebe’s voice. “Evie,” Finn chimed in, “a person’s appearance is born with them. Phoebe’s looks were set at birth; it’s not her fault she resembles you. You can’t just lash out at an innocent person because you demand everything to be unique, can you?” I almost laughed aloud. If I were truly lashing out, would you all still be standing here so comfortably? “Fool. Don’t you realize, I’m talking about you?” My words were directed at Finn, but my gaze swept slowly over everyone in the room. “Two years away, and Miss Beaumont’s temper is still awful, isn’t it?” “Before, I just thought Phoebe and Miss Beaumont were similar. But seeing them side-by-side, a weary Miss Beaumont truly can’t compare to a radiant Phoebe.” “Honestly, Miss Beaumont is just… passable. And her temper…” My volatile temper was well-known in the circle. My father once told me a woman should be gentle like water, flowing and yielding. But then again, cruelty can also flow like water. Rather than consume myself with resentment, I prefer to light a fire under others. Watching the people in this ostensibly harmonious circle quake in their boots after a single sentence from me, I found it utterly boring. “This is supposedly my welcome banquet, yet you all look glum facing me, then turn so enthusiastic for an unrelated Phoebe.” I turned to my cousin. “Chloe, thank you for arranging this gathering today. From now on, please don’t invite me to any events where these people are present.” I picked up my clutch, ready to leave. As I passed by Phoebe, her friend beside her suddenly let out a yelp. The friend stumbled, and the gift box in her hand tilted, sending a massive white crystal geode sliding out. It crashed onto Phoebe’s foot, instantly bruising her instep. In an instant, Asher’s enraged roar filled my ears. “Evie, what are you doing?!” “This geode, Phoebe searched so many places to find it for you, thinking it could purify your aura and benefit your health. If you didn’t want it, you didn’t have to take it. Why smash it?” Asher and I had grown up together, practically childhood sweethearts. He was always aloof, keeping everyone at a distance. Even on the day of our engagement, his expression was neutral. This was the first time I’d ever seen him so furious. Now, he condescendingly knelt beside Phoebe’s foot, carefully examining her injury. Once he confirmed she was unharmed, he straightened up and glared at me, his voice a venomous hiss: “Everyone came today specifically to welcome you back after your years abroad. And what did you do? You spoke nothing but cold, cutting remarks, smashed a gift, and made the whole affair incredibly awkward.” “Two years, and your temper is still as terrible as ever.” SMACK! The loud slap finally silenced Asher. Such a chatterbox. I flexed my wrist and pulled my bag tighter. A few decorative pieces had broken off and were now hanging from Asher’s shoulder. The surrounding crowd stared, wide-eyed, having just witnessed a spectacular show. Asher’s eyes were wide with disbelief. “You actually hit me?” Did hitting him require a special occasion? I scoffed coldly. “You’re still my fiancé. You think I’d tolerate you openly defending another woman right in front of me, wearing that enormous green hat?” I’d honestly thought my temper had mellowed after these years recuperating abroad; after all, extreme anger harms the body. The old me, upon hearing others gossip, would have immediately started a heated argument, escalating to physical blows if I was truly provoked. Now, it seemed they had forgotten who I used to be and insisted on provoking me. He who provokes first is the villain, yet they blame me for retaliating. “Miss Beaumont, it’s all my fault.” “I… I didn’t know this gift was so fragile. If it had been placed flat, it wouldn’t have shattered so easily.” I sneered. “Of course, it’s your fault. You brought a geode as a gift. Do you think I’m some kind of evil entity that needs purifying?” Phoebe cried. Indeed, she was a beauty, and her tears were truly pitiful. As she covered her face, I caught a glimpse of her lips subtly curving upward. A smile, meant only for me, visible from this angle alone. Asher’s face grew even darker. He stopped rubbing the spot where my bag had hit him, turned to comfort Phoebe, and delivered a chilling warning: “I never knew you were such an unreasonable person.” My brother, Finn, also pointed at me and scolded, “Evie, what did Phoebe do to deserve such treatment from you?” “When we see Father tonight, I’ll certainly have him punish you!” I smiled, waved a dismissive hand, and turned to leave. “Go ahead and report me.” “‘Big sis Phoebe,’ huh? What kind of random stray can be your sister now?” “Oh, and by the way,” I stopped and turned back, “Asher, have you forgotten that the engagement between you and me was something your father desperately begged for when he brought you to our home?” “Since you like Phoebe so much, I won’t stand in your way. I agree to break off the engagement. You can go tell The Montgomerys yourself.” Might as well finish it all in one go. I turned to Phoebe. “As for you, do I look like an idiot?” “While my temper isn’t great, I walk with purpose. I didn’t even touch your friend just now, yet she stumbled like that. Was she trying to stage an accident?” “Don’t believe me?” I pointed to the streetlight in the courtyard. “The camera at this angle should have captured it very clearly.” My direct, name-calling scolding left Finn’s face somber, Asher’s face ashen. Phoebe’s face was a mixture of red and white. Everyone else looked uncomfortable. Their discomfort meant my mood improved. I was used to it, anyway; they either gossiped about me to my face or behind my back. Am I some kind of doormat, unable to fight back when insulted? “You don’t need to report me; I’ll do it myself. I’ll relay every single one of your performances today, exactly as they happened, to each of your family heads.” “After all, there are plenty of high-definition cameras here. Your clothes, your makeup, your expressions,” I shook my phone, “even the words you spoke, are all clearly recorded.” With that, I didn’t bother with their panicked expressions and turned to walk out. But I bumped directly into a man entering from outside the courtyard. His strong hand gripped my arm, steadying me firmly. I looked up, meeting a handsome, flawless face. The man’s face flushed, and he quickly released me. But I was in no mood to admire handsome men. Once steady, I pushed him away. “Don’t touch me. Get out of the way!” Instantly, the man’s face grew even redder, his ear tips turning pink. I frowned. Did this person like being pushed around? “Evie,” my cousin whispered, her voice meek. “Let’s go together.” “Oh, don’t mind him. He likes it when you scold him.” There were people with that kind of kink? He was so handsome; his personality must be anything but ordinary. There was a sense of familiarity about him. The red-faced man saw me looking at him and immediately introduced himself: “Miss Beaumont, I’m Julian Davies of The Davies family.” The Davies? A prominent, but second-tier family in the circle, a notch below our Beaumonts and The Montgomerys. Before I could react, Julian shoved a gift box into my hand, then turned and scurried away. Even after I was in the car, I was still confused. “Julian Davies? Have I met him before?” Chloe leaned comfortably against the seat back, tapped a few times on her phone, and an AI voice began to speak: “Julian Davies, second-in-command of Davies Group, second child of The Davies family head. Currently known to be worth billions. If The Davies fortune is passed to him, his worth is estimated to be tens of billions. Age 22, unmarried, height 6’2”, and all the essential details…” My face burned. What kind of inappropriate AI was my cousin using? “You don’t know him? You had to ask your AI?” “Oh, should I know him? This is the first time I’ve seen him today.” I looked at my cousin, half-amused, half-helpless. Keep playing dumb. My cousin also pretended ignorance. “Evie, why don’t you check what he gave you?” She quickly took the gift box and began to unwrap it. Once the excess packaging was removed, Chloe gasped. I looked over, and she held a velvet cloth, showcasing a flawless, imperial green jade bangle, translucent like glass. Such a bangle was rarely seen, even at auctions. I took it, examined it carefully, and slipped it on. It was a perfect fit for my wrist. Chloe clicked her tongue a few times. “Evie, you said you didn’t know him. He even knows your wrist size and preferences so well.” I rotated my wrist, watching the bangle shimmer with light, and smiled faintly. Although the welcome banquet had ended unpleasantly, receiving a perfect bangle was certainly a good outcome. Perhaps the bangle had a calming effect, for I slept soundly that night. I woke up early the next day. By the time I finished my Eight Sections of Brocade, it was still before eight. Once I was ready, I had my bodyguards go to The Cloud Haven Bistro, the most popular restaurant in our circle. They set up a seven-foot-tall display screen at the entrance, playing an edited video of yesterday’s welcome banquet on loop. Phoebe’s attempt to frame me, Asher’s scolding, Finn’s indignation, and the others’ reactions—all were there. I even thoughtfully added subtitles, detailing who said what, with each person’s name clearly labeled. Passersby, guests entering the restaurant, and even eager onlookers uploaded the video online, and it quickly went viral. Today, the social circles’ group chats exploded. A torrent of messages at-ed me, demanding to know what my intentions were. I replied with a “smile” emoji, then exited the group. According to the information my assistant gathered, the second-generation heirs of prominent families featured in those videos were severely reprimanded by their own families after returning home. After all, who gave them the audacity to openly mock the Beaumont heiress?

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1 When Ethan Vance broke off our engagement, everyone said my life was over. For five years, I’d bent myself into knots to please him, and my reputation was already in tatters. No one, they claimed, would ever want a woman like me. When Ethan found new love, those around me waited for me to grovel, to beg for him back. But they didn’t know I had willingly taken my younger sister’s place, marrying into a family in Portsmouth through an arranged marriage. Before I left, I returned the treasured keepsake box Ethan had given me, along with the blank promise card he had penned as a boy. I left nothing behind, no trace. It wasn’t until the day before his engagement that Ethan suddenly spoke of me: “She hasn’t made a sound in all this time. Has Elara Sterling finally withered away?” And I, having just endured a night that brought me close to death in a different way, was being woken by my new husband’s kisses. “Elara, sweetheart, you promised four rounds, and not one less…” … That day, when Ethan suddenly declared he wanted to get married, I hadn’t seen him in three months. Our last encounter, I’d overheard him telling his friends he was utterly bored with me. The entire room had erupted in laughter. They laughed at me, at how I’d spent five years trying to please him, tarnishing my own name, only to be cast aside like worn-out rags. Those three months at the Sterling home had been brutal. Just days ago, Victor Sterling had come home drunk, and his hands had been heavy. The wounds on my back still throbbed faintly. So, when Ethan unexpectedly called me today, asking me to come over, a flicker of hope ignited in my chest. I specifically wore the jade bangles we’d exchanged on our engagement day and hurried to his villa. By the time I arrived, Ethan was already tipsy. He lay half-reclined on a young woman’s lap, his eyes closed. The girl looked like a student, innocent and pure. Seeing me enter, she, who was massaging Ethan’s head, stumbled, flustered, trying to rise. But Ethan’s hand clamped onto her wrist. “Just stay put.” He didn’t open his eyes, merely applied gentle pressure to her hand. She was pulled closer, her body pressing against his. Submissively, she lowered her head, allowing him to kiss her. He released her, then cupped her chin. The kiss was deep, the sounds echoing. I stood in the doorway, clutching my clutch, bewildered for a long moment. It took immense effort to compose myself, to feign indifference, and turn my gaze to the window. “I’ll go stroll in the garden for a bit. I’ll come back later.” No sooner had the words left my lips than Ethan scoffed. The girl beside him, ever so sensible, quickly stood up. “Perhaps I should leave first, and let her come over.” This time, Ethan didn’t stop her. He held her hand, idly toying with it for a moment, before reluctantly releasing it. “It’s cold outside, don’t catch a chill.” The girl smiled softly, nodded, her long, dark hair shielding most of her flushed face. As she passed me, she politely greeted me as “Sister,” then offered a gentle “hello.” I nodded back, returning her smile. She was very young, her eyes clear and guileless, her shy demeanor eerily reminiscent of my younger sister. “Elara Sterling, come here.” Ethan leaned back on the sofa, patting the empty space beside him. The intricate, splendid crystal chandelier cast dappled light, illuminating his face—narrow, sculpted, his features strikingly handsome. The play of light and shadow rendered him almost ethereal. For a moment, I felt a dizzying unreality, coupled with an inexplicable ache. Ethan’s languid eyes, shimmering with a hint of intoxication, were subtly reddened at the corners. His collar was loose, revealing a constellation of hickey marks on his collarbone and the side of his neck. “That girl was Seraphina Hayes.” I nodded. “Yes, I know.” “What do you think of her?” I thought for a moment, then answered earnestly. “She’s very innocent, very pure, very well-behaved.” Ethan nodded. “Doesn’t she remind you of yourself five years ago?” I froze. 2 Five years ago, I had just started university. In Ethan’s words when he pursued me, I was “so pure it made his heart ache.” Back then, he truly loved me. And he doted on me fiercely. He treated me as if I would melt if he held me too tightly. I was also his longest relationship. I even got engaged to him before graduating from college. Only, what a pity. The person I was now was unrecognizable, my reputation utterly ruined. Everyone in the Capital City knew. Knew how many shameless things I’d done just to cling to that prized catch. Back then, he said he was tired of my innocence and purity. To please him, I forced myself to change, to immerse myself in his depraved circle. I indulged his perverse tastes. He wanted sophistication, a fiery sensuality, an open boldness. I endured the humiliation, satisfying him one by one. Yet my desperate attempts to please him ultimately earned me only his scornful words. “Elara Sterling, you’re truly pathetic.” “Even the cheapest hooker isn’t as uninhibited as you are in bed.” “Look at you now, do you have even an ounce of a proper lady left?” When he first proposed breaking up, Victor Sterling threatened me with my younger siblings. To keep him, I’d slashed my wrists, I’d taken pills. I had done it all. Now, he stood before the unrecognizable me, saying he loved Seraphina. He loved that she reminded him of myself five years ago. I wanted to laugh, but the laughter wouldn’t come. “I truly like her. I want to give her a proper name.” “She’s not like you. She’s terribly timid, so pure. I have to take responsibility.” I wanted to say something, but my lips felt glued together. Not a sound escaped. After a long moment, I managed to force out a smile. “Alright, I understand.” “I can put in a good word for you with The Sterlings.” “No need. I’ll figure it out myself.” “As you wish.” He swayed as he stood up, pulled something from his pocket. It clattered onto the coffee table. My eyelids twitched violently. It was the token we’d exchanged when we got engaged. My biological mother’s relic: a matching jade pendant. What Ethan had given me was his mother’s wedding dowry: a pair of jade bangles. The very pair I now wore on my wrist. “Take off the bangles.” “Our engagement is off.” I looked up at him, his once languid eyes now cold, as if filled with frost. So when he said he wanted to get married, he hadn’t meant with me. The five years of companionship couldn’t compare to the fleeting thrill a new lover brought. I thought I would collapse, that grief would overwhelm me. But I didn’t shed a single tear. I calmly removed the jade bangles and returned them to him. Ethan’s brow subtly arched, a hint of surprise in his expression. But he took them, then turned and walked away without a backward glance. 3 News of Ethan Vance breaking off our engagement spread quickly. The expected brutal punishment never came. Only, I once again lost contact with my younger siblings abroad. I knew this was my father’s customary way of unleashing his wrath. He and my stepmother, Vivian, began scouring the Capital City for a suitable husband. They wanted to marry me off, to secure The Sterlings’ continued prosperity. But soon, ugly rumors began to circulate. They said that all these years, to please Ethan, I had done everything imaginable, that I was utterly used up, that I had even lost the ability to bear children. No one in the Capital City would be willing to take on a woman like me. Father’s temper grew increasingly volatile. My days became increasingly unbearable. The second month after Ethan broke off our engagement, another explosive piece of news spread through the circle. It was said he was getting engaged again, to Seraphina. Ethan had even defied his parents for her. The usual gossipmongers made sure the news reached me. I knew what they wanted to see. Nothing but boredom in their lives. And perhaps, a longing for the old days when they had a spectacle like me to entertain them. “Elara, I actually think Ethan still really likes you.” “You’re probably having a tough time now, aren’t you? Why don’t you go beg Ethan?” “He’s soft-hearted. If you cry a little, or even pretend to try to end it all, he might change his mind.” “Seraphina can’t compare to you, Elara. You’re much prettier than her.” I saw all the messages but didn’t reply. Instead, I poured my entire being into preparing for my own marriage. Just a week ago, I had knelt for an entire night. Finally, I convinced Father to agree to my taking my newly adult sister’s place, marrying into a family in Portsmouth. I’d heard that the eldest son of The Thornes, Dorian Thorne, was ruthless and cunning, yet wielded immense power, an uncrowned king in Portsmouth. But he was also said to have a fierce and unpredictable disposition due to a physical disability that confined him to a wheelchair. But I wasn’t afraid. To escape The Sterlings, to ensure my siblings’ freedom. I would welcome it all. Besides, I could no longer stand to be in the Capital City. Portsmouth might just offer a glimmer of hope. 4 Before my wedding, I met my best friend for dinner. While on my way to the restroom, I unexpectedly ran into Seraphina. She looked nothing like her previous self. She wore exquisite makeup and Dior’s classic little black dress, slender and alluring. A thin ladies’ cigarette dangled from her vibrant lips. “Miss Sterling, you’ve heard, haven’t you?” Seraphina looked at me, a provocative smile on her face. “Ethan Vance is getting engaged to me.” I looked at her, suddenly recalling her pure, shy demeanor when I first met her. For some reason, a wave of melancholy washed over me. “Yes, I heard.” Seraphina’s smile deepened. “Miss Sterling, are you very jealous?” “I heard you lost three of his children. All these years, you’ve done everything low and shameless just to keep him, to marry him.” She leaned against the window sill, her eyes alight with disdain and contempt. I looked at her coolly. “Miss Hayes, you just said yourself, you ‘heard.’ We’re both women; there’s no need to spread such vile rumors, is there?” Seraphina instantly scoffed. “It’s spread throughout the Capital City; how is it a vile rumor?” I didn’t want to waste my breath on her and turned to leave. But Seraphina suddenly said, in a strangely snide tone, “Miss Sterling, girls are not all the same. You have no self-respect. Didn’t your mother teach you anything before she passed away?” My steps halted abruptly. Hearing the word ‘mother,’ a surge of hot blood rushed to my head. I didn’t have time to think, couldn’t be rational. I spun around and slapped her. “Miss Sterling…” Seraphina froze for a moment, then immediately covered her face and began to cry pitifully. “I know it hurts you that Ethan and I are getting engaged, but you can’t just hit people…” “I understand you’re angry, but you can’t force feelings.” “Ethan doesn’t like a woman as… loose as you. It’s not my fault…” She sobbed, whimpering, sounding aggrieved and pathetic, but every word she uttered felt like a knife twisting in my heart. “I know your mother died young, and you had no one to guide you, Miss Sterling. I won’t pursue this matter… this time…” I gritted my teeth until my jaw ached, raising my hand to slap her again. But my arm was viciously seized by Ethan. “Elara Sterling, apologize to Seraphina.” “I won’t apologize.” I stood rigid, my back straight, my face pale, my lips colorless. But my eyes were bloodshot, shining with a dangerous intensity. 5 Ethan seemed surprised. Over the years, he had seen me as innocent and pure. He had seen me as obedient and docile. He had also seen me hysterical, sobbing, and clinging. I had been naive, alluring, cried, laughed, and made a fuss in front of him. But I had never been so calm, so distant, as I was at this moment. He pushed Seraphina aside and walked emotionlessly in front of me. “Elara Sterling, I’m only going to say this one last time: apologize to Seraphina.” I stared fixedly at him, then suddenly laughed. A laugh that was resolute, desperate. “Ethan Vance, I told you, I won’t apologize. I’ll die before I apologize…” A sharp slap suddenly echoed in the empty corridor. After delivering that blow, Ethan seemed to freeze. Seraphina covered her face, her eyes wide, similarly stunned and disbelieving. Only I slowly raised my hand to my stinging cheek, my eyes slowly reddening. “Elara Sterling…” Ethan instinctively stepped forward. But I immediately stepped back. His hand, which had been about to rise, abruptly dropped, and his face hardened again. “Elara Sterling, this is your own fault.” “If you had apologized just now, I wouldn’t have laid a hand on you.” Ethan’s voice was low and somewhat hoarse. “You know I never hit women.” “We’ve been together for so many years; I’ve never laid a finger on you.” “You shouldn’t have touched Seraphina today. I like her; it’s not her fault.” “Elara Sterling, stop making a scene. Save yourself some dignity.” He was usually a man of few words, never rambling on like this. But I didn’t hear a single syllable. My bloodshot eyes uncontrollably filled with tears. I desperately tried to hold them back, but I couldn’t. My tear ducts ached fiercely, and tears streamed down my face in large drops, as if they would never stop. Ethan, at some point, had tightly clenched his hands, his brows furrowed. Seraphina walked to his side and said obediently, “Ethan, let’s just go.” Ethan gripped her hand, but his gaze remained fixed on my face. “Elara Sterling, don’t try to bother Seraphina again.” “And don’t ever appear in front of Seraphina and me again.” “This is my final warning to you.” After he finished, he didn’t immediately leave with Seraphina. Instead, he stood there, watching me, as if waiting for my reply. But I said nothing, only lowered my head slightly. It felt as if I wanted to shed all the tears of my lifetime in this moment. After about thirty seconds, Ethan finally led Seraphina away. As he turned to leave, I suddenly spoke, my voice low. “Alright.” “I swear, I will never appear in front of you and Seraphina again in this lifetime.” Ethan’s tall, broad-shouldered back stiffened abruptly. But he quickly pulled Seraphina forward, walking on without a single glance back. Seraphina, however, turned to look at me. Her eyes were still tear-filled, but the corners of her lips were triumphantly turned up. I slowly lowered my hand. Good, I thought to myself. Five years of entanglement, that love-hate for Ethan, so deeply rooted in my heart. Now, in this moment, it was finally ripped out by the roots, severed completely. I could leave, unburdened, without a single regret, forever. 6 After returning that day, I received many messages and calls. A large portion were screenshots from Seraphina’s social media. The most prominent was the engagement ring she was flaunting. I closed my messaging app, still not replying. And I didn’t answer any of the calls. My face was still a bit swollen, so I got some ice and pressed it to my cheek for a while. When I came back, my phone showed a new account deposit notification. I was puzzled, and then shocked by the string of zeros. Before I could even count them, my phone rang. The three words flashing on the screen were saved by my own hand: Mr. Thorne. This was the first time Dorian Thorne had called me since our engagement was settled. My heart pounded a little faster. I took a few deep breaths before answering. “Miss Sterling, did you receive the money?” “Yes, I did.” “But, Mr. Thorne, you already sent the dowry…” I reminded him softly, wondering if someone around him had made a mistake. “The dowry was for The Sterlings. This sum of money is specifically for you.” I clutched my phone, stunned for a long moment, before I finally spoke in a low voice. “Mr. Thorne, you don’t have to do this.” “I was previously engaged, and my reputation isn’t good…” “It doesn’t matter.” Dorian’s voice was exceptionally deep and melodious, yet it carried a soothing power. I thought of the rumors about him: ruthless in his dealings, brutal in his methods, unpredictable and volatile. But in his voice now, there was absolutely no hint of any of that. “You said yourself, it was ‘before’.” “Everything before is in the past, Miss Sterling. Don’t dwell on it.” “You’re marrying far away. Anything you like, you can buy for yourself and bring to Portsmouth.” My eyes felt warm, welling up with tears, yet I couldn’t help but curve my lips slightly. “Mr. Thorne, thank you.” The news of my marriage to The Thornes had been kept completely under wraps. This was Dorian’s instruction. The Thorne family’s welcoming party had already arrived in the Capital City. With them there, The Sterlings were, naturally, on their best behavior. Thus, no one in the Capital City knew I was about to marry far away. Three days before my departure. All my luggage was packed. I looked at the exquisitely crafted keepsake box on my dressing table. And a yellowed, blank promise card. The keepsake box was a gift Ethan had given me when he pursued me. It had nine layers, filled to the brim with all sorts of jewelry. The blank promise card was a thank-you gift he’d given me when he was twelve. Of course, he’d long since forgotten it. I had actually considered using that promise card to make him agree to marry me. But in the end, I decided I didn’t want to waste my life on a man like him. The jewelry was too valuable, so of course, it had to be returned. The blank promise card bore his private seal. It, too, could not fall into the wrong hands. I carefully packed both items. Then I called Liam, Ethan’s personal assistant. “These items are very valuable. Please make sure to deliver them to him personally.” I repeatedly emphasized this. Liam, though still polite, was clearly impatient. “Miss Sterling, let me give you some well-meaning advice. Don’t waste your efforts anymore.” “Mr. Vance is about to get engaged. Let’s all just move on.” He thought I was playing tricks again, trying to reconcile. I wanted to explain. But he clearly couldn’t be bothered to humor me. He casually tossed the box into the trunk and drove off. 7 I quietly left the Capital City with the Thorne family’s welcoming party. Two days later, I met my future husband for the first time. The heir to The Thornes, Dorian Thorne. He wore a perfectly tailored black suit, looking noble and handsome. Though seated in a wheelchair, his legs covered by a thin blanket, his posture was upright, his shoulders broad and powerful. It made you completely overlook his physical disability. “Elara Sterling.” He uttered my name in a low, resonant voice. I took a deep breath, walked quickly forward, and then slowly knelt. My gaze met his. I must have been incredibly nervous and shy, because I saw a tiny version of myself reflected in the dark depths of his profound eyes. My eyelashes seemed to tremble faintly. I secretly inhaled, gathered my courage, and reached out to gently take his hands, which rested on the blanket. “Mr. Thorne, hello. I’m Elara Sterling.” The moment my hand touched his, I seemed to hear gasps around me. But my nervousness was too overwhelming to heed them. Instead, I clutched his hands, unconsciously tightening my grip. Dorian didn’t push me away. His fingers were long and slender, his knuckles strong; my hand couldn’t fully encompass his. Just as I felt on the verge of suffocating from nervousness, Dorian suddenly clasped my cold fingers. His large palm completely enveloped my chilled hand, holding it tightly. “Elara Sterling, push me back to the room.” I quickly tried to stand, but as I rose, I swayed, nearly losing my balance. Dorian reached out at just the right moment, steadying my waist firmly. “Careful.” His hand released quickly. But my cheeks still felt faintly flushed. I murmured a soft “Mm,” took the wheelchair from the attendant, and pushed him into the room. The room door closed, and warm lights illuminated the space. Dorian looked at me, then pointed to his legs. The corner of his lips seemed to subtly curve, but it might have been my imagination. “My legs aren’t convenient, Elara. You’ll have to put up with me tonight.” I lowered my head, not daring to meet his gaze, and simply nodded softly. Then, somewhat uncomfortably, I raised a hand to pinch my earlobe, only to find it unusually hot to the touch… 8 Before his engagement, Ethan Vance hosted a party. His fiancée-to-be, Seraphina, wasn’t there, just his usual circle of fair-weather friends. After a few rounds of drinks, everyone grew a little out of hand. Someone, unable to hold their tongue, suddenly brought up Elara Sterling’s name. “Ethan’s dated so many, but Elara was still the prettiest.” “Yeah, we all agree on that.” “Honestly, if Ethan hadn’t laid down the law, I would’ve tried to date her.” “Get in line, kid, you’d have to wait your turn.” Their conversation grew increasingly inappropriate. At some point, Ethan set down his glass. He just leaned back on the sofa, watching them intently. The chatter slowly died down. “Uh, Ethan, we were just talking nonsense.” “Had a bit too much to drink, just messing around. Don’t take it seriously.” Ethan, however, smiled faintly. “Hearing you all talk, it did remind me of Elara Sterling.” “But, is she dead? She hasn’t made a sound in so long.” His voice sounded cold, almost nonchalant. As if he had truly only just remembered Elara. As if her death, even if it had happened, would be an insignificant matter. But the room suddenly fell silent. Liam, Ethan’s assistant, quickly offered a conciliatory smile. “Mr. Vance, I was remiss. I forgot to tell you.” “Just a few days ago, Miss Sterling asked me to deliver something to you. She said it was very valuable.” “I figured she probably wanted to reconcile, so I gave her a hint and stopped her from bothering you.” Ethan’s gaze, cool and indifferent, fell on Liam, and he even let out a soft chuckle. “Well, Liam, your nerve seems to be growing.” Liam jumped, quickly rising. “Mr. Vance…” “Since when do you decide what happens in my life?” “Yes, yes, I overstepped.” Liam bowed repeatedly, cold sweat beading on his forehead. Ethan lowered his gaze, habitually twirling the ring on his middle finger. “Call her. Tell her to be there in thirty minutes.” Liam froze for a moment. “Mr. Vance?” Ethan turned his head, looking out at the dark night. “If she doesn’t make it, tomorrow, I’m truly getting engaged to Seraphina.” 9 When Liam’s call came, I was just climbing off Dorian Thorne’s lap, my face slightly flushed. He leaned by the window, watching my slightly swollen lips with a knowing smile. My ears burned. I took my phone and walked to the window to answer. “Liam,” I said, my breathing a little rapid, “Is there something you need?” Liam’s voice on the other end of the line was somewhat urgent. “Miss Sterling, Mr. Vance said to be at the old spot in thirty minutes. Otherwise, he’s truly getting engaged to Miss Hayes.” At his words, I couldn’t help but let out a soft chuckle. The night was too quiet, and Dorian likely heard it too. He placed his water glass on the bedside table with a distinct clink. Liam on the other end of the phone also seemed to hear the movement and immediately asked. “Miss Sterling, it’s so late. Is there someone else with you?” In the past, I had always been compliant, accommodating Ethan’s every whim. Being on call was a regular occurrence. And I had always treated Liam, Ethan’s personal assistant, with utmost politeness, never lightly. But now, that would never happen again. “Liam, my private life is none of your concern.” I spoke slowly. “Furthermore, Ethan and I have already broken off our engagement; we have no ties whatsoever. Who he gets engaged to is irrelevant to me.” Liam seemed to panic immediately. “Miss Sterling, please don’t act impulsively out of spite. You’ll regret it deeply.” “Tomorrow is Mr. Vance’s engagement party with Miss Hayes. Tonight is your last chance to turn things around.” “I don’t need that chance.” My tone was calm and cool. “And, did you give Ethan the things I entrusted to you last time?” Liam fell silent for a moment. That cardboard box had been taken by Seraphina two days ago. And he, mindful of Seraphina’s status, had not stopped her. I reminded him again. “Liam, I’ll only say this once. Please hand it to Ethan personally, immediately.” When Liam spoke again, his voice was incredibly polite. “Miss Sterling, it would be better if you handed these things to Mr. Vance yourself.” “I told you, Liam, he and I have broken up, and I will not see him again.” I paused here, letting out a long, heavy sigh. “Liam, after you give him the things, I will delete your contact information. From now on, please don’t contact me again.” 10 After ending the call, I walked back to the bed with my phone. Dorian took the phone and casually tossed it onto the sofa beside the bed. He wrapped an arm around my waist, his warm breath fanning my face and the side of my neck. His long fingers gently traced the soft skin of my waist, sending shivers through me. I instinctively tried to pull away, but he held me tighter. “Elara, do you know it’s very rude to take an unimportant call in the middle of a kiss?” These past few days, I had been constantly by Dorian’s side. And he, for his part, kept saying that since we were about to hold our wedding and become true husband and wife, we should adapt to marital intimacy sooner. So every night before bed, we would embrace and kiss, then say goodnight. Since arriving here, my life had been incredibly comfortable, completely unlike what I had imagined. Dorian was nothing like the ruthless, volatile man of rumor. On the contrary, he treated me exceptionally well, and everyone around him too. Our feelings for each other were also rapidly warming. I had also reconnected with my siblings abroad. They were both safe and sound, their studies and lives completely unaffected. And as long as my marriage to him went smoothly, Dorian had promised me that my siblings would be free to live their own lives, no longer controlled by Victor Sterling and my stepmother. I was so incredibly eager for that day. Give a peach, get a plum in return. Dorian treated me well, so I had long since adjusted my mindset, genuinely seeing him as my husband. Thinking of this, I couldn’t help but reach up, hook my arms around his neck, and lean in to give him a light kiss. “Mr. Thorne, is this enough of a compensation?” “Just one kiss, Elara?” I suppressed my shyness and kissed his cheek again. Then his chin, his Adam’s apple. When I kissed his Adam’s apple, Dorian’s body stiffened for a moment, and his Adam’s apple visibly bobbed up and down. “Good girl, Elara, not enough.” With that, he took control, cupping my jaw and lowering his head for a deep kiss. And this time, it was different from every kiss before. He kissed heavily, deeply, as if he wanted to devour me. And I, too, felt every reaction of his body. But I had no time to think of such things; I was utterly consumed by his kiss, my legs turning to jelly. The people in the distant Capital City were long since forgotten. My entire being was focused solely on the man before me. I don’t know how long passed before Dorian finally released me, his voice hoarse. “It’s late. Time to go back to bed.” “Elara, goodnight.” I rose from his lap, roughly straightening my disheveled clothes. I reached up to smooth my messy hair, said goodnight, and then turned to leave. My room was right next to Dorian’s. Lying down, just thinking that my future husband was living just a wall away, brought an immense sense of peace. I closed my eyes and quickly fell into a deep sleep. Long after the call ended, Liam remained standing there. But ultimately, he could only sigh deeply, a headache brewing, and walk into the room to relay my words to Ethan Vance. 11 After Liam spoke, Ethan’s expression remained unchanged, but the hand gripping his wine glass was clenched so tightly that his knuckles were white. Liam, without realizing it, broke out in a cold sweat. “Mr. Vance… perhaps Miss Sterling is just acting out of spite.” “Spite?” Ethan asked, a mirthless smile playing on his lips. Liam lowered his head, his breathing barely audible. The next second, Ethan kicked over the coffee table in front of him. Glasses shattered, creating a chaotic mess. The others looked over, startled. The room was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Ethan sneered twice. “She’s really gotten bold, trying to play these games with me.” “Fine, let’s see how many days she can keep up this act.” Ethan’s expression turned sour as he looked at Liam. “Where are the things?” Liam’s head dropped even lower. “Miss Hayes just happened to see it that day and took it, saying she’d throw it away.” “I thought, since Miss Hayes and you are about to get engaged, I shouldn’t interfere.” Ethan looked at him, his gaze cold and dark. “Liam, you’re doing a fine job.” Liam almost knelt. “Mr. Vance… I was wrong. I won’t dare to do it again.” Someone quickly tried to smooth things over. “Why get angry with an assistant? Besides, Seraphina handled Elara Sterling’s things, saving you the trouble of looking at them.” “Yeah, if you’d taken them, Elara Sterling would have had an excuse to cling to you.” “You’re right. Even if he didn’t take them, she’d still cling to him. After following Ethan for so many years, everyone knows she can’t live without him.” “Now, she’s just playing hard to get, trying to get Ethan’s attention.” No one present found anything wrong with these statements. In fact, they all felt this was exactly what Elara Sterling would do. After all, they had seen such antics far too often over the past five years. Ethan glanced at Liam, his expression still cool and aloof. “Get out.” He always detested it when those around him took matters into their own hands. This Liam, he was truly getting out of line. Liam didn’t dare say another word and quickly left the room. Seeing Ethan’s foul mood, everyone else also dispersed one by one. Ethan leaned back on the sofa, the alcohol rushing to his head. He closed his eyes. Yes, his friends were right. Elara Sterling loved him so much, cared for him so deeply, she couldn’t live without him. She would never just let him get engaged to Seraphina. Even if she acted tough today, she would absolutely appear at the engagement party tomorrow, doing everything she could to disrupt it. Her situation at The Sterlings was so dire, and he was the only one who could save her. As long as Elara wasn’t a fool, she wouldn’t let go of him, her only lifeline. At the very latest, tomorrow, she would come. Thinking this, Ethan felt the knot in his chest loosen slightly. If she came, out of consideration for their five years together, he might give her a way out. The engagement party. Seraphina, in a complex, luxurious white gown, her makeup flawless, looked young and delicate. Ethan, too, was in a custom white suit, making him appear tall, handsome, and exceptional. Surrounded by friends, all beaming with joy, he responded vaguely to a few remarks, but his gaze kept drifting towards the main entrance. Less than fifteen minutes until the engagement was officially supposed to begin, and still no sign of Elara Sterling. An inexplicable restlessness began to rise in Ethan’s heart. He forced himself to suppress the irritation, downing the water in his glass. With two minutes left, he raised his wrist, checking his watch. “Are all the guests here?” His voice was light, as if a casual query. “Of course. The engagement is about to begin. The guests arrived long ago. We’re just waiting for you and Seraphina, the stars of the show, to make your appearance.” Ethan swallowed his annoyance, stood up. “Let’s go.” In the ballroom, a glittering crowd of finely dressed guests filled the space. Seraphina was surrounded by her friends, her face a mix of joy and shyness. Ethan scanned the room. He didn’t see Elara Sterling. The increasing agitation in his heart churned. He turned, looking far out towards the main entrance again, but there was no change. “Ethan.” Seraphina walked over shyly, taking his arm, her voice soft. “The engagement is about to start. I’m a little nervous.” “It’s just an engagement, what’s there to be nervous about…” Ethan replied dismissively, his gaze sweeping over Seraphina’s earrings before suddenly stopping. “It’s just that I care so much about our engagement party, that’s why I’m so nervous… Ah!” Seraphina suddenly cried out in pain, and all the guests looked over. Ethan’s face was ashen. “That bracelet and earrings… Where did they come from?”

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1 My childhood sweetheart had strung me along for eight years, constantly demanding I earn points by proving myself worthy before I could even be her boyfriend. So, I gave up a chance at a prestigious university, abandoned my secret crush on the girl of my dreams, and sacrificed a bright future. Yet, she turned around and married a rich heir, even mocking me after my parents died, saying I was too pathetic to even end it all. My heart turned to ashes, and I leaped. I never expected to wake up again, back on the very day I’d confessed my feelings to her. Given a second chance, I swore I’d never be her doormat again. I would embark on a life of limitless possibilities. As for her? Well, she was about to get a taste of real hardship. “Chris, I honestly don’t want a relationship right now. I’m sorry.” I looked at the beautiful girl clutching ninety-nine roses before me. She was Sarah, my childhood sweetheart. Seeing her again, though, all I felt was a wave of annoyance. Of all the people to encounter first after rebirth, it had to be her. What a jinx. A woman like her? Not even a dog would date her. “Chris, why are you silent? Can you not always be like this? I really don’t want to date right now.” Sarah’s eyes held a flicker of impatience. “Alright, as you wish.” I nodded, a thrill surging through me. Reborn, I wouldn’t degrade myself like that ever again. I would mend every single regret from my past life. Make money. Lots and lots of money! I wouldn’t let my parents get sick and hospitalized from overwork. I wouldn’t let the girl who secretly loved me wait endlessly. I wouldn’t… “Didn’t you hear me clearly? I just rejected you. Why do you look so happy?” Sarah challenged, her voice edged with irritation. She couldn’t fathom why my reaction to her rejection was such obvious excitement and joy. It clearly irked her. In her mind, I should have been devastated, heartbroken. I should have immediately vowed to prove my devotion, waiting for her to accept my proposal. Then she, satisfied, would have told me that if I passed her tests, she’d eventually become my girlfriend. To hell with that. A woman like you? You’re not even worthy. All I wanted now was money! The thought of it cleared my head, and my excitement intensified. Today, in this very commercial district, a lottery shop had sold a scratch-off ticket worth a million dollars. That winning ticket was the last fifty-dollar scratch-off left in the shop. I knew this with such certainty because, in my previous life, I had gone to buy drinks for Sarah and her friends, witnessing the entire event unfold. I immediately fumbled in my pockets. Only thirty-two bucks. Not enough! I almost slapped myself. If it weren’t for buying those roses for Sarah’s proposal, using up the three hundred-plus bucks I’d scrimped and saved, I wouldn’t be short on cash now. My gaze shot to the roses in Sarah’s hands. An idea sparked. “Give me back the roses.” 2 I didn’t wait for Sarah’s response, simply taking the roses back into my arms. “Those are the roses you gave me. How can you take them back?” Sarah watched, wide-eyed, as I reclaimed the bouquet, standing frozen in disbelief. “You rejected my proposal, so why would you keep my flowers? I can always give them to someone else.” I stated matter-of-factly, inspecting the roses as I spoke. Some parts were already wilting slightly. Annoying. Sarah sputtered, caught off guard. “Chris, I only rejected you this time. It doesn’t mean you don’t have a chance. Freshman year is so demanding, I just don’t have time for a relationship. When sophomore year settles down and it’s easier, I might want to date, and you’ll be the first person I consider.” Sarah quickly changed her tactic. I looked at Sarah with a flicker of disdain, almost gagging. The first person she’d consider? Was that even a human thing to say? My judgment these past years had truly been flawed, to have fallen for someone like this. “I’m being completely honest with you, but there’s one rule: you can’t like other girls, and you definitely can’t pursue them. Otherwise, we’ll truly have no chance.” “I think you should pass that ‘chance’ on to some other poor fool… cough… someone else. I’m just not interested in you.” I casually tossed the words out, then grabbed my bottled water to keep the roses fresh. My words, however, seemed to sting Sarah’s pride. “Chris, love requires perseverance. If you can’t even handle a small setback like this, how can I even consider being with you?” “Then find someone else to test. I have important things to do right now.” “You…” Sarah’s face flushed with anger. “Chris, stop acting up. Sarah genuinely doesn’t have much time right now. She actually cares about you, don’t hold a grudge against her.” “Sarah, you know Chris, he’s just talking out of anger.” At this moment, Sarah’s roommate and best friend, Clara, interjected, trying to mediate between us. Sarah paused, then the corners of her lips subtly curved upward, regaining her confident demeanor. “Chris, I know you’re upset, but didn’t I tell you not to give up? As long as you perform better in the future, you’ll definitely earn more points in my heart.” “I’ve been talking to you for so long, I’m thirsty. Go get Clara and me two bottles of electrolyte drinks, or I’ll never speak to you again.” I sprinkled the last bit of water on the roses. Now, they looked as fresh as if they’d just been wrapped at the shop. Satisfied, I tossed the empty bottle and strode quickly towards the lottery shop. Buy drinks? She just rejected my proposal and already wants to spend my money. How shameless! Sarah, go to hell! 3 Arriving at the lottery shop, I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw the sole fifty-dollar scratch-off ticket still there. “Excuse me, sir, can we make a deal? I’ll trade you this bouquet of roses and thirty dollars for that scratch-off ticket. These roses cost me over three hundred dollars, you can take them home and surprise your wife.” I approached the owner, proposing my trade. The owner paused, seemingly encountering such a request for a scratch-off for the first time. He glanced at the roses in my hand, then smiled. “Alright.” “Your word, right, sir?” “Of course.” I immediately handed him the money and the flowers, took the scratch-off ticket from his hand, and began to scratch. Seeing the winning pattern, I felt a surge of excitement, but kept my face as calm as still water. “Did you win, young man?” the owner asked with a smile. “Ah, no luck.” I didn’t excitedly blurt it out like the man in my previous life. What if the owner went back on his word? Holding the card, I walked out of the lottery shop and hurried to the State Lottery Office. Scratch-off tickets worth over ten thousand dollars needed to be redeemed at the main office. Thankfully, I had brought my ID. This lottery shop was conveniently located not far from the Lottery Headquarters. Soon, after taxes were deducted, eight hundred thousand dollars were deposited into my bank account. I walked out of the Lottery Headquarters, feeling utterly delighted. “Chris, what are you doing here?” An arm slung over my shoulder. I turned to see Ben, my high school friend and college roommate. In my previous life, Ben had been my best brother. When both my parents were hospitalized, he risked divorce by lending me the last ten thousand dollars his family had. It was a drop in the bucket, but I never forgot his loyalty. “Didn’t you say you were going to propose?” Ben asked, confused. “Alright, don’t even mention her. She’s bad news.” I smiled, shaking my head. “Holy cow! Chris, you finally came to your senses! Let’s go, let’s celebrate your escape from misery. I’m treating you to a big feast!” Ben was even more excited than I was. He knew more about my situation with Sarah than anyone else. He had constantly advised me not to be a doormat, but I had never listened, even arguing with him about it a few times. Yet, he never held a grudge and always looked out for me. “Nah, today, I won some money on the lottery. I’m treating you to a big feast. Seafood, let’s go!” I said, grinning. Now with eight hundred thousand in hand, I already had entrepreneurial ideas, but first, I was going to splurge and have some fun. “Are you serious, Chris?! A meal there could cost a grand! How much did you win?” “Eight hundred thousand.” “Oh, glorious benefactor! Allow your humble servant to bow before you!” Ben and I went straight to Ocean’s Bounty Seafood Restaurant, ordered a ton of seafood, and began to feast. Meanwhile, on the other side of town, after I had left, the smile on Sarah’s face had grown even brighter. “Hmph! He still listened to me and went to buy drinks. Chris was definitely just throwing a tantrum in front of me, wanting me to agree to be his girlfriend. How infuriating!” “Later, when he brings back those electrolyte drinks, we’ll just take them and leave without saying a word to him.” Sarah scoffed, her tone haughty. “Sarah, is that really appropriate?” Clara sounded a little hesitant. “Why not? What he said to me today was absolutely outrageous. I have to ignore him for a week to make him reflect on his mistakes. He needs to understand what it means to pursue me. And he actually said he’d give flowers to other girls, implying he was moving on right in front of me. How disgusting!” Sarah said, clearly annoyed. “Aren’t you worried that if you ignore him, he really will go after someone else?” Clara asked, a trace of doubt in her voice. “How could he? I’ve always disciplined him this way, and every single time, he comes crawling back, begging for reconciliation. It never fails. If I don’t let him know how important I am, how will he be completely devoted to me?” “You’ll see. He’ll come back to beg me.” Sarah’s face was full of confidence. “You’re amazing, Sarah!” Clara said, a hint of admiration in her voice. The two continued to chat, sitting on a nearby bench, beginning their wait. 4 Half an hour later, Clara’s throat felt parched from waiting. “What’s up with Chris? Half an hour just to buy a drink?” Sarah’s face was flushed with embarrassment. Clara had already asked several times why Chris hadn’t arrived, and Sarah had fended her off with various excuses. But now, after thirty minutes, she felt she had completely lost face. “I’m so mad! I’m calling him right now!” Sarah furiously pulled out her phone and dialed my number. Lobster, king crab… To celebrate the chance at rebirth I’d been given, I’d ordered a ton of things I wouldn’t have even dared to dream of in my previous life. Ben and I feasted, savoring every bite. Just then, my phone rang. I glanced at it—Sarah’s call—and immediately hung up, stuffing a piece of lobster meat into my mouth. The phone rang again; I hung up again. As calls kept coming, one after another, I simply blocked Sarah’s number. Not long after, Clara’s call came through. I sighed; I didn’t want to be harassed like this, so I answered. “What do you want?” “Chris, why aren’t you answering my calls?!” Sarah’s enraged voice blared from the other end. I held the phone a bit farther away. “Listen, I told you, I’m not interested in you anymore. Please stop harassing me, okay?” “Chris, what exactly do you mean?” “Exactly what it sounds like. Alright, I’m still eating. That’s enough. Let’s not contact each other again, I don’t want people to misunderstand our relationship.” Without waiting for Sarah’s reply, I hung up. “Father! You’re a man among men! This is the true hero I admire!” Ben watched my actions, giving me a big thumbs-up. On the other side, Sarah completely lost her composure. She bit her lip, her eyes misted over, and large tears began to drip. Clara, who had been annoyed by Chris’s no-show, froze. Logically, Sarah had rejected Chris’s proposal, so why was she crying? “Sarah, why are you crying?” “Clara, tell me honestly, haven’t I been good to Chris? Even when I rejected him, I left him a chance, so he wouldn’t feel so disheartened.” “But then he threatened me, saying he wouldn’t pursue me anymore, and that contacting me would lead to misunderstandings, as if he despised me. Isn’t he just going too far? He completely misunderstands my good intentions.” Sarah said, sounding aggrieved. “Chris did go too far, but are you crying because you’ve fallen for him?” Clara pondered for a moment, then decided Sarah had a point. A woman looking for a boyfriend should certainly test him properly. “How could that be? I admit I have a slight crush on him, but he’s been pursuing me for too short a time, only seven or eight years. It would have to be much longer before I might even consider liking him.” “That’s true. But if it’s much longer, what if you meet someone else you like?” Clara suddenly asked. “Then, of course, I’d choose the person I like. Clara, are you being silly?” “What about Chris, then?” “Then I’d just say we weren’t meant to be. If he truly loved me sincerely, he wouldn’t stop me from pursuing a better person, right? A woman fears marrying the wrong man; we women have to be very careful in choosing a boyfriend.” “But the thing is, Chris seems really determined this time.” Sarah paused, then began to calmly think it over. A moment later, she seemed to have reached a realization. She suddenly wiped away her tears, shook her head with a smile. “I almost fell for Chris’s trick. How could he possibly be truly determined? He’s just trying to annoy me.” “He’s probably just really hurt this time. When he proposed to me before, I always responded this way, and he’d be fine within a day.” “Never mind. I’ll go find him myself, encourage him a little, give him a bit of a sweet treat. He’ll probably stop being angry.” Sarah stood up and walked towards the commercial district. 5 Ben and I were enjoying our meal when two figures suddenly appeared by our table. “Chris, you’re too much! Not only did you not buy us drinks, but you hung up and blocked my calls! And then you sneak off to eat seafood here behind our backs!” “You’ve truly disappointed me!” It wasn’t long before two figures appeared beside our table, Sarah angrily accusing me. She had initially intended to encourage me, but seeing me eat such lavish food, she couldn’t hold back her fury and began to scold me. As she spoke, she glanced at the seafood on the table, unconsciously swallowing. Clara reacted in the exact same way. This meal cost over three thousand dollars, and as poor students, they rarely had money for this kind of luxury. I frowned. They were truly like persistent ghosts, managing to find me here. It seemed everything I had said to her today had fallen on deaf ears. “Chris’s money doesn’t grow on trees, why should he buy you drinks? Sarah, have you gotten used to spending Chris’s money? Not even his girlfriend, yet you spend his money. You’re truly ridiculous.” I hadn’t even spoken, but Ben, beside me, said with a mocking sneer, showing Sarah no respect at all. “Ben, what do you know? I’m testing Chris.” Sarah was momentarily speechless, glaring at Ben. “Testing? You mean letting Chris cater to your every whim, letting you order him around, so you can enjoy all the perks of a girlfriend without any of the responsibility?” Ben scoffed. “You’re talking nonsense! I never meant that.” Sarah’s chest heaved with anger, but her eyes held a hint of guilt. “Ben, Sarah and Chris are having a lovers’ spat. Why are you interfering?” Clara snapped, then looked at me. “Chris, I know Sarah rejecting your proposal made you very angry, but there’s no need to upset her like this. All she wants is a sign of your attitude.” “Exactly, Chris, I actually still have feelings for you. If you had just invited us to eat with you, I would have definitely given you bonus points in my heart. It would show that you still consider me the most important person. But you didn’t even bother to invite me.” Sarah, seeing she couldn’t argue with Ben, also looked at me, her face full of disappointment. I almost laughed aloud. This woman truly had a screw loose. I’m supposed to spend three thousand dollars just for her to give me points? Is her dignity plated with gold? Sure enough, the moment the rose-tinted glasses shattered, all that remained was brokenness and ugliness. The “dream girl” had become a woman with countless flaws, even annoying. “Sarah, I already made it clear on the phone. I don’t like you. Can we just part ways amicably?” I pushed aside my internal grumbling and said calmly. “What ‘clear’? What ‘part ways amicably’?! I came to find you myself! What more do you want? Do you, a grown man, need to be so petty?!” Sarah’s voice rose in anger. I was speechless. Talking to someone like her was a complete waste of energy. I scoffed, ignoring her, and continued to eat. I couldn’t let this woman affect my mood or my appetite. “Alright, alright, everyone calm down. Chris, this table must cost a lot, right?” Clara quickly tried to mediate, shifting the topic. “This table cost over three thousand, and my foster father won eight on a scratch-off…” Ben started, a triumphant look on his face. 6 “Ben…” I cut Ben off. There was no need to tell Sarah about this. She was nothing to me anyway. Ben quickly nodded, then shook his head in mock pity. “Too bad someone here doesn’t have that kind of luck.” “Eight what? Eight thousand?” Clara frantically squeezed Sarah’s hand. But Ben and I ignored her. Sarah was startled at first, then she shook her head, her breathing quickening. “It can’t be eight thousand. I know Chris’s personality; if he won eight thousand, he wouldn’t spend over three thousand on one meal.” She actually wasn’t completely clueless about me. “Eighty thousand?” Clara gasped. Eighty thousand dollars in this era was definitely a huge sum. Sarah’s eyes lit up. She was only a freshman in college, but she had matured quickly and already had a grasp of money. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have found a rich heir as a boyfriend in her sophomore year. She was only stringing me along now because she didn’t have a better option. “Chris, I know you’re angry because I rejected you today, and that’s why you’re saying hurtful things.” “I honestly just felt your proposal was too abrupt, and I wasn’t ready, so I turned you down.” “Given how much effort you’ve put into me in the past, give me a little time to consider. In a few days, I might just say yes.” I almost spat out the lobster meat. From a direct rejection to a possible “yes” in a few days, all it took was eighty thousand dollars. Did she think her uncertain answer was worth eighty thousand? Was her mouth plated with gold too? I coldly ignored her words, continuing to eat voraciously. Sarah, seeing me lower my head, thought I was considering her words and immediately brightened. She believed her guess was right, that I was just being stubborn. “Clara, are you hungry? Why am I so hungry?” Sarah suddenly turned to Clara. Clara paused, then immediately understood Sarah’s meaning. “I’m so hungry too!” “Perfect, then let’s just eat with Chris here.” Sarah took the opportunity to sit down. Clara also sat beside Sarah, looking delighted. “Hey, what’s wrong with you two? Chris never said he was inviting you.” Ben couldn’t stand it anymore and immediately spoke up. “Ben, this is between Chris and me. What does it have to do with you?” Sarah said impatiently. “Exactly! Even Chris didn’t say anything, so that means he’s fine with it. Why are you poking your nose into other people’s business?” Clara was annoyed that Ben wouldn’t let her eat the seafood. “Chris, say something!” Ben looked at me anxiously. “Say what? Can’t you keep your mouth shut even while eating?” I didn’t even look at Sarah or Clara, pulling the seafood away from their reach, glaring at Ben and scolding him. Ben froze, disappointment flashing in his eyes. He thought I was falling back into my old habits, and even the seafood seemed to lose its flavor. Sarah, seeing this, became even more convinced I was playing hard to get, that I still couldn’t let her go. The corners of her lips subtly curved upward, confidence returning. “Clara, eat up.” Sarah reached for the seafood, but it was a bit far, and the plates we had eaten from didn’t look appealing. She frowned slightly in disgust, then directly called a waiter. “Clara, let’s order some fresh stuff. I heard online that caviar is good, and Australian lobster…” Sarah spoke with a triumphant air, ordering without a single concern. 7 Soon, their seafood arrived. It was worth at least six thousand dollars, even more lavish than what Ben and I had eaten. Ben watched all this, angrily setting down his lobster and refusing to eat anymore. Seeing me still eating with relish, he fumed at my apparent lack of assertiveness. “Burp…” Soon, I was full, letting out a satisfied burp. “Ugh, Chris, that’s disgusting! Go burp somewhere else, don’t pollute the air here.” Sarah said, her face contorted in disgust. I ignored her, waving at a distant waiter. “Waiter, check, please.” “Chris, we haven’t finished eating. Why are you paying?” Clara said, her mouth full of Australian lobster meat. “Let him pay, it doesn’t stop us from eating.” Sarah smiled, looking at me. “Chris, I’m very satisfied with your proposal today. You’ve definitely earned points in my heart. You’ll have to keep up the good work in the future.” I suddenly felt a wave of nausea. I looked at the huge pile of seafood on their side, then at the approaching waiter, and sneered. Sarah, I hoped this lesson would make you never approach me or disgust me again. “Sir, the total for this meal is eleven thousand one hundred fifty. We’ll round it down for you, so just ten thousand.” The waiter said, holding the menu. “Eleven thousand one hundred fifty?!” I asked, feigning exaggerated surprise. “We only ordered this much. Why is it so expensive?” “Uh… Sir, the items you ordered totaled three thousand one hundred. However, the seafood ordered by these two young ladies totaled seven thousand fifty.” The waiter quickly explained. “Chris, how can you be so cheap? You won eighty thousand, and you care about a little over ten thousand dollars?!” Sarah snapped, her voice low with fury, as she saw people looking our way. She clearly felt humiliated. Sarah’s parents were both salaried employees; their combined monthly income didn’t even reach ten thousand dollars. Yet, she treated my money as if it came from nowhere. I wondered how pathetic I had been in my previous life, trying to please this woman. Ben’s scolding words back then were absolutely spot on. Thank goodness I got to live again. “Them? They didn’t come with us. They just sat at our table, right?” “My order only consisted of these items, and I’m only paying for my own. You can’t put their bill on us just because they ate at our table, can you?” I asked, feigning confusion. As my words fell, everyone present froze. “Oh, I’m sorry, sir, I thought you were all together. My apologies. Your table’s total is three thousand one hundred.” The waiter quickly said, sounding guilty. “Chris, what do you mean?! You invited me to this meal, that’s why I ate it!” Sarah shouted, enraged. “I never said I was inviting you. You ordered these yourselves. What does that have to do with me? Waiter, card, please.” I handed my bank card to the waiter. Clara was so scared she couldn’t eat, stuttering incoherently. “Why didn’t you say this when we sat down and ordered? You’re angry with me, but you don’t have to screw us over like this, do you?!” Sarah slammed the Australian lobster onto the table, her chest heaving with anger. “You’re not related to me. If you come to a restaurant to eat, am I supposed to stop you? Neither law nor morality grants me that right.” I pressed my bank card PIN into the POS machine, shrugging. “Waiter, pack all these up, quickly, quickly!” Ben’s spirits lifted. A look of extreme delight on his face, he pointed to the pile of seafood in front of him with a hint of regret, shouting. After paying the bill, I smoothly stood up and walked out. Ben bounced along behind me, gleefully saying, “Father, well done! I completely misjudged you earlier.” “Chris, you stop right there! Pay for our meal! Otherwise, I’ll never speak to you again! I’m serious!” Sarah, disregarding all dignity, screamed in anxiety and anger, drawing stares from those around us. “Then you’d better be a person of your word.” I almost laughed, quickening my pace as I left the restaurant.

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Finally discharged, free from the confines of the mental hospital, I thought I was ready to rejoin the world, a new woman, free from the shadow of my bipolar disorder. But barely two days back in my own apartment, I felt the familiar grip of my illness tightening its hold again. The reason? Some online streamer, who’d apparently moved into the apartment above mine, 702. She was raging, partying every single night, utterly oblivious to the misery she was causing me below. I’d gone upstairs a few times to politely ask her to quiet down. Each time, she’d offer a sickly sweet “Oh, absolutely, I won’t do it again,” only to crank up the volume the moment I left. She was a law unto herself. In the dead of night, the throbbing bass from her latest ‘performance’ ripped through my apartment, shaking the very walls. I jolted awake, my teeth aching from the vibration. That was it. I snapped. My hand closed around the cool, solid grip of my kitchen knife, and I started for the door, heading upstairs. Just then, my phone chimed. A notification from the building’s resident group chat. It was Ashley from 702, tagging me directly. “Next week’s my birthday, everyone else has already sent their gifts.” “When’s yours coming?” “I’m not asking for much, just a couple of thousand dollars will do. Oh, and you’re complaining about the noise, right? How about you buy me some decent noise-cancelling shoes? I wear a size 7, and my husband is a size 10.” I actually laughed. A choked, bitter laugh. Dr. Miller had drilled “stay calm, stay calm” into me before I left the hospital. If not for his persistent warnings, I couldn’t guarantee what would have happened to them. After a moment of consideration, I put the knife down. In the group chat, I typed a single, stark question mark. Her reply was instant. “Looks like you just moved back in, so I’ll let this month slide. But starting next month, I expect a payment of two thousand dollars from you. Every month. Transfer it to my account by the 6th. Be prompt, don’t make me chase you.” I felt like I’d been struck by lightning, the shock rippling through me from head to toe. I’d heard of people asking for birthday gifts, but a monthly birthday? Did her mother give birth to her twelve times a year? I was about to unleash a furious retort when a verification message popped up – from Chloe, who’d just spoken in the group chat. I accepted. A voice note arrived almost immediately, filled with genuine concern. “Girl, you have to stay calm. Ashley from 702? You really don’t want to mess with her. Just send her some money, pretend you’re hard up, say some nice things. It’ll blow over.” “What do you mean?” I demanded, “She’s completely shameless. And you all just enable her?” “Sigh. You’ll understand later.” I put down my phone, my body trembling. A fire raged within me, barely held back by a fragile thread of reason. I let out a low, grim chuckle, the veins in my hands bulging. Enable her? That word wasn’t in my dictionary. Taking a deep breath, I swallowed the impulse to lash out. In the group, I typed: “What kind of demonic entity, reincarnated a dozen times, made your mother give birth to you twelve times a year?” Her response was immediate, like a lit fuse. A piercing shriek erupted from my phone. It made me jump. Then, message after message, a torrent of them. Soon, the group chat hit ’99+,’ all voice notes from Ashley, each a full sixty-six seconds long. A joke. Did she really think I’d listen? When I didn’t reply, she typed out a message. “503, you just wait. You brought this on yourself.” “If anything happens, remember to go after 503! It has nothing to do with me!” The group chat fell silent. I turned off my phone, checked my 7 AM alarm, and lay down to sleep. Just as I was drifting off, it started. The entire building vibrated. Thump-thump-thump! It sounded like a drum kit, amplified. Several times louder than her usual streaming sessions. Great. Now it wasn’t just me, but all the other neighbors suffering. My phone wouldn’t stop buzzing. I thought it would be neighbors ganging up on Ashley. Instead, they were all tagging me. “503, please, have a heart. Have pity on us! My daughter has school tomorrow!” “Seriously! It was only bothering you before, and now we’re all suffering because of you. What kind of person are you?!” I genuinely laughed, a cold, humorless sound. So Ashley was waiting for me there, was she? I immediately tagged Ashley. “Your drumming sucks. Want me to come upstairs and give you some lessons?” Followed by a bloody kitchen knife emoji. The group went silent again. Luckily, I had noise-cancelling headphones. I put them on and managed to drift off. But the next morning, the building manager was at my door. Gary. He said I was disturbing the peace, that neighbors had complained about me. My temper flared instantly. I pulled out my phone and showed him the chat messages. “See? The one disturbing the peace is upstairs. You should be talking to her.” Gary, a slick operator who looked like he’d been doing this job for too long, and clearly had some shady connection with Ashley, sneered. “She’s lived here a long time, never had any noise complaints. And she just said it, didn’t she? You forced her hand.” “Are you blind, dude?” I snapped. “What did I force her to do? Do I even know her? She demanded money from me. So if I don’t give it, it’s my fault?” My nails were digging so deep into my palms it hurt, making me wince. He smirked, his stained teeth flashing as he spoke. “If she made an unreasonable request, you could have discussed it with her, couldn’t you? Was it necessary to provoke her? If you ask me, this is still your fault.” I reached for my kitchen knife. My face was expressionless. “Get out.” He seemed to recognize the shift in my demeanor. He turned and closed the door behind him. Then, my water and electricity went out. I checked online – no overdue bills. I checked my circuit breaker – it hadn’t tripped. I was standing there, shampoo in my hair, my body sticky from not having rinsed properly. No choice but to towel off. I posted in the resident group. “Is anyone else experiencing a power and water outage?” Only Chloe replied. “No, everything’s fine here.” I understood immediately. Gary. That rat. Without another word, I stormed down to the management office. They just kept denying it, insisting it wasn’t them. Gary, the same guy who’d visited my apartment, tried to deflect the blame onto me. “Maybe your plumbing or electrical lines weren’t handled properly during renovation?” Without hesitation, I pulled out my phone, pretending to call the police. “Alright, fine. Let the police come and sort this out.” At the mention of the police, Gary’s face fell. He quickly said, “Alright, alright, I’ll send a technician to check it out. You can head back and wait.” Sure enough, as soon as I got back, the water and power were restored. This confirmed it: Gary and Ashley were definitely in cahoots. But while the utilities were back, the moment 11 PM hit, the wild singing and dancing started again upstairs. Even with my noise-cancelling headphones, I was woken up several times. Damn it, I wasn’t going to sleep! I sat up, frantically rubbing my temples. A sleepless night. My ears were ringing, my nerves frayed, ready to snap. I glared at the ceiling, but a plan began to form in my mind. There’s an old saying: fight fire with fire. The next morning, dragging my exhausted body out for work, I found my doorstep piled high with trash. Even worse, there was a used sanitary pad. I was truly at my breaking point. Just the trash was infuriating enough, but then the building’s cleaning lady, Agnes, came by and started scolding me for littering. “You’re telling me you didn’t throw this out?” she demanded, “Do you have proof? No proof, it’s at your door, it’s yours.” Her incessant lecturing made my head throb. Seeing my obvious irritation, Agnes sighed. “Alright, I’ll let it slide this time. But if I catch you littering again, you’ll be fined.” I was pressing my fingers to my temples, my brain aching, when I caught a glimpse of a figure lurking behind the wall, eavesdropping. It was Ashley. I clenched my jaw. At the office, I immediately ordered a discreet security camera online, opting for expedited delivery and installation. Damn it, she liked to eavesdrop and gloat, did she? She thought she could pick on me because I lived alone and had no proof, huh? Tonight, the technician would install the camera. Anyone shameless enough to dump trash at my door again would have the evidence shoved right into their smug face! During my lunch break, I applied to my boss for a dorm room. Ryan looked surprised. “Didn’t you say you lived nearby?” I made up an excuse. “Living with family, it’s not very convenient.” Ryan nodded and approved it immediately. But I couldn’t move in until tomorrow afternoon. So tonight, I’d have to go back to my apartment. In the middle of the night, she was at it again upstairs. Booming, crashing. I couldn’t sleep, so I decided to search for local live streams. Sure enough, I found her. Online name: ‘AshleyCan’tSleep.’ Stream title: ‘Riverside City’s Hottest Streamer.’ In the stream, she was wearing a tight short skirt, dancing energetically to pulsating music. She was really giving it her all, occasionally speaking in a breathy voice to thank ‘big brothers’ for their gifts. I paid close attention to her viewer count. Over 10,000 live viewers. She actually had a lot of fans. Halfway through her dance, a viewer asked, “Miss, your dancing is amazing, but won’t your neighbors complain?” Ashley saw the message, panting and wiping sweat. “Oh, how could they? My place has amazing soundproofing, it won’t disturb anyone’s rest.” I just scoffed when I saw that. But I also noticed something. Her fans clearly had no idea about her disruptive behavior. I’d overheard Agnes, the cleaning lady, gossiping about my neighbor, apartment 502, who had sold their place for a massive discount – sixty thousand dollars below market value. The reason? Ashley’s late-night disturbances. The family in 502 had an elderly parent with a heart condition. After several attempts to resolve the issue failed, the 502 resident, furious, threatened to beat Ashley. After that, 502’s family suffered intense retaliation from Ashley’s fans, and the elderly parent passed away from stress and illness, exacerbated by the constant harassment. Left with no choice, the family sold their apartment and moved away. Now it made sense. Ashley’s fans probably had no clue what she was truly like. Thinking this, I pulled out my phone and recorded the noise, gathering my evidence. Over the next few days, I specifically studied Ashley’s online accounts and analyzed her routine. She basically stayed awake when everyone else was sleeping, going to bed around 4 AM and sleeping until noon. Perfect! That meant on weekday mornings, everyone would be at work or school. Very few people would be home. After moving all my belongings to the company dorm, I made a quick trip back to my apartment. I checked the newly installed camera by my door, then looked up at the ceiling. Then, I pulled out the ‘Vibration Device’ I’d ordered. Climbing onto a chair, I taped the device to the ceiling, specifically right below her bedroom. I wanted to ensure maximum sonic penetration. I was very pleased with this device; it was small, but incredibly powerful, and crucially, it could be controlled remotely. That day, I slept soundly in the company dorm until morning. I hadn’t slept so comfortably in ages. I stretched, savoring the feeling. The thought of letting Ashley taste her own medicine, the torture of being unable to sleep, made me let out a grim, satisfied chuckle. At work, I glanced at the time. 10:30 AM. I pulled out my phone and opened the audio app. I passionately queued up ‘The Hottest Square Dance Songs of the Century,’ starting with a classic. After three days of this, Ashley couldn’t take it anymore. She started wildly tagging me in the resident group chat. “503, are you insane?! Don’t you know you’re disturbing the peace?!” “Speak up! Why are you playing dead?!” I ignored her. She was so desperate, she actually came to my door and started pounding. On my camera feed, I saw her, furiously running her hands through her hair, banging on my door. “503, you have the nerve to disturb people’s sleep but no nerve to open the door, do you?” “Oh, my apologies,” I said, my voice coming through the intercom. “I haven’t been home these past two days. I forgot to turn off the stereo.” The sudden voice startled Ashley. She then put her hands on her hips and raged, “You weren’t home, so you just left the stereo on?! You’re clearly doing this on purpose!” I replied, “Oh, if that’s what you want to believe, there’s nothing I can do.” Ashley froze for a moment, then flew into a tantrum. “This is disturbing the peace! Don’t you have any public decency?!” When the pounding stopped, she was clearly frustrated, with nowhere to vent her anger. She kicked my door twice with all her might. But my door was sturdy. It was her who grimaced in pain, furious. “You just wait. If I can’t have peace, neither can you.” Two days passed, relatively peaceful. I thought the whole thing had blown over, but then Gary from property management called me. “Cassidy Chen from 503? This is Gary from property management. Your apartment is leaking, and it’s flooded the unit below. You need to come back and take a look.”

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1 On the day Julian Astor received the Global Philanthropist Award, I was given my death sentence. The doctors told me there was no more money to replace my artificial heart. On the television, the host asked Julian to make a call to the person he regretted most. Without hesitation, he dialed my number. I answered the call, listening as Julian asked, “Did you ever regret leaving me for money?” I glanced at the colossal bill for a new artificial heart. A faint, bitter laugh escaped me. “Julian, you’re so incredibly rich. Could you lend me two hundred thousand dollars?” The call snapped shut. I watched Julian on screen, his face a mask of cold indifference, as he stated, “Now, I have no regrets.” He didn’t know. Seven years ago, when his heart was failing, it was I who, without his knowledge, replaced his dying heart with my own. After the live broadcast ended, I immediately received a two-hundred-thousand dollars transfer from Julian. I froze for a moment, a wave of complex emotions washing over me. I used the money to pay my medical bills, then suddenly heard familiar voices just outside my hospital room. Peeking through the crack in the door, I saw Julian. Seven years had passed, and time seemed to have left no mark on him. The only thing that had changed was the person by his side. It wasn’t me anymore. The awards gala had just ended. He hadn’t even had time to change, yet he’d rushed to the hospital. All because his girlfriend, Ashley Hayes, was suffering from a slight stomach ache. I watched him hold her close, caressing her with an obvious, doting affection. I lowered my head, intending to pretend I hadn’t seen them, to quietly close the door. Julian yanked the door open. I jumped, my gaze snapping up to meet his. His eyes, chillingly cold, swept over my frail form. “It’s been a long time. You… you won’t even say hello?” I looked at him, my lips parting. A thousand words welled up, but they condensed into a single plea: “Julian, lend me another thirty thousand dollars.” Julian stiffened, and a flicker of anger ignited in his cold gaze. He grabbed my arm. “Seven years, and that’s all you have to say to me?!” The countless needle marks on my wrist pulsed with a dull, persistent ache. I took a deep breath, speaking softly. “Mr. Astor is so wealthy. If I don’t ask for money, I’m afraid Ms. Hayes might misunderstand.” Julian looked taken aback, his expression momentarily complex. He was about to say something when Ashley wrapped her arms around his arm, feigning innocent surprise. “Darling, is this your ex-wife?” Ashley looked at me, her voice laced with a sugary pity. “What can thirty thousand dollars even do? Julian buys me shoes that cost fifty thousand!” She smiled, a hint of mockery in her tone. “It’s a shame Ms. Chen didn’t know how to appreciate him. If you hadn’t ruthlessly abandoned Julian, how would I have ever met him?” I remained silent, my mind drifting back in time. Julian and I met in college, fell in love, and spent five years by each other’s side. Back then, he wasn’t the billionaire entrepreneur he was today. My body wasn’t as broken as it was now. Two impoverished orphans, for the first time, found the person they cared about most. We fought hard to build a small family of our own. Just as our careers were starting to take off, Julian was diagnosed with a severe heart condition. Treatment and a transplant would cost a fortune. We drained all our savings, every penny we’d put into our startup. To raise money for his medical expenses, I worked multiple odd jobs every day, eating only one meal a day, making every penny stretch. I worked myself to exhaustion, just to scrounge up meager funds for his medication. We even switched his life-saving drugs to the cheapest, low-grade generics. Still, a suitable heart remained elusive. Just as I watched Julian grow thinner and weaker day by day, on the brink of despair, his doctor found me. He told me the match was successful. The person whose heart was a perfect match for Julian’s was me. My tangled thoughts ceased. Julian leaned down, affectionately kissing Ashley’s forehead, his eyes full of unspoken tenderness. “If it weren’t for her heartlessness, how would I have met my little angel?” He turned back to Ashley. “That thirty-thousand-dollar bag you wanted? I’ll buy it for you when we get back. Next time, choose something more expensive. Your husband can afford it.” Watching them, the phantom prickle on my wrist from the IV needle seemed to pierce my very soul, choking me. I wrested my hand free from Julian’s grip, which he had never loosened. I no longer wanted to be a mere prop, a confirmation of their love story. Just as I was about to walk away, Ashley subtly extended her foot, tripping me. “Oh my, Ms. Chen, how clumsy of you!” I fell to my knees, my medical report scattering at Julian’s feet. Seeing me fall, Julian’s expression tightened. He instinctively reached out to help me. But Ashley caught his hand, gasping, “What’s this?” Julian’s gaze was drawn to the report on the floor. He picked it up, scanning it quickly. “Artificial heart replacement…” A flash of anger crossed Julian’s face. He flung the medical report at me. “Cassidy Chen, I can’t believe you’d use such a despicable trick, this kind of fraud, all for money!” 2 “You’re just like you were seven years ago, everything for money, only money in your eyes!” I rose, looking at Julian’s healthy body. A faint smile touched my lips as I silently picked up the medical report. “Mr. Astor knows I love money. Why not lend me a little more?” Ashley, feigning deep emotion, shook his muscular arm, tears welling in her eyes, but her gaze at me was filled with mockery and malice. “Darling, maybe it’s true?” Then, almost as an afterthought, “And… it was Ms. Chen leaving you that led to you getting a heart donation from a kind stranger!” She looked at me, then back at Julian. “Shouldn’t we help her?” Her words seemed to remind Julian of the ‘fact’ that I had abandoned him for money. The anger and hesitation in Julian’s eyes were instantly frozen into icy coldness. “The hearts of those kind strangers couldn’t save a heartless person like her. She doesn’t deserve it.” Julian pulled Ashley, turning away. Ashley continued to ‘plead’ for me, but the curve of her lips as she glanced back at me was so mocking, so vicious. I picked up the medical report, now covered in Ashley’s footprints. My artificial heart suddenly emitted a tremor that didn’t belong. My vision blurred, their retreating figures gradually fading. After a long moment, I wiped away the blood trickling from the corner of my mouth, staring at the words “Artificial Heart Replacement.” My fingers brushed over the scar on my chest, a mark of seven years. Julian still didn’t know. The heart beating in his chest was mine. Seven years ago, because a suitable heart couldn’t be found, Julian’s body grew weaker by the day. Artificial heart technology wasn’t mature then; theoretically, it could sustain basic life, but it carried too many hidden risks. After the match was confirmed, I replaced his heart with my own. I, in turn, received an artificial heart with a theoretical lifespan of seven years. To save money, it was the cheapest kind. Since then, my chest would often be pierced by a sharp pain. Daily coughing up blood and sudden bouts of extreme weakness became commonplace. Also, because I had no money, the surgery to replace my artificial heart with a newer model was repeatedly delayed. Now, seven years had passed. The artificial heart in my chest gave its seventh sharp jolt. I knew it was already at its limit. … After leaving the hospital, I returned to my rented apartment. The room was small, damp and cold in winter, unbearably hot in summer, but cheap. Julian and I had once lived here, dreaming of our future together within these very walls. When I learned my heart was a match for his, I pretended to be a gold-digger, presenting him with divorce papers. Julian and I had shared five years. No matter how hard or tiring things got, I never once complained, always sticking by his side. He knew how deeply I loved him; he simply couldn’t believe I would abandon him. I also knew he loved me to his core. He would never have allowed me to sacrifice my life for his if he knew the truth. To save him, I had to harden my heart, feigning that I’d had enough. Enough of living by his side, enduring endless hardship. Enough of living without hope. Enough of eating cheap medicine, one meal a day, drinking cold water when thirsty, gnawing on stale bread, making every penny stretch. I told him I’d had enough of it all. I still remember that day. The boy who was always strong, who never feared hardship or pain, cried for the first time, signing the divorce papers through his tears. I also signed the organ donation agreement. After the surgery, I bore the scorn, completely leaving Julian, and returned to the rented apartment where we’d spent five years together. Silently, I awaited the death I had, by my own hand, embraced. I just never expected to see Julian again. Now, he had soared far beyond, embodying the ideal future we had both once envisioned. But I could never go back. Watching his triumphant image on the news, a pang of bittersweet sorrow pierced me. Yet, there was also a sense of quiet contentment. My phone rang, pulling me from my reverie. It was the bank. They informed me that the previous two-hundred-thousand-dollar transfer was a mistake. They required immediate repayment, or I would face legal consequences. I hung up, a wry, bitter smile on my face. I didn’t know what to say. Julian hated me so much. He knew that I, the “money-grubber,” needed payment in installments. He would certainly accept, and watch me exhaust myself trying to repay the debt. Because of my heart condition, my body was often weak, making many jobs impossible. I could only survive on occasional odd jobs. My best friend, Chloe, knew about my health. She found me a job as a banquet server. The work was relatively light, earning fifty dollars a day. As I put on the server’s uniform, donned a mask, and began serving drinks at the banquet, 3 I saw Julian again. He wore an expensive suit, his posture tall and commanding. Ashley, in a lavish evening gown, looked graceful and enchanting. Arm in arm, they seemed like a divine couple, surrounded and adored by everyone. I only glanced at them before immediately lowering my head. Julian, engrossed, didn’t recognize me as I served him wine. Just as I was about to turn away, Ashley suddenly spoke. “What kind of server are you? Didn’t you see you spilled wine on my dress?” My steps faltered. Only then did I notice a damp spot on the hem of Ashley’s gown. I didn’t speak, merely lowered my head and used a tissue to wipe away the stain. Julian watched me, his brows furrowed, his lips pressed into a tight line. Malice spread in Ashley’s eyes. Suddenly, she kicked me in the chest. A searing pain shot through me, and I collapsed to the floor, unable to suppress a cry of agony. “Don’t touch me with your dirty hands! Security! Get her out of here!” Ashley’s face feigned anger, but the triumphant smirk on her lips was impossible to hide. Even though only my eyes were visible, in that brief moment of eye contact, Julian recognized me. His lips trembled, a flicker of concern flashed in his eyes, only to be replaced by endless mockery. He raised a hand, stopping the security guard, and then ripped off my mask. “Cassidy Chen, seeing your ex-husband, aren’t you going to say hello?” Ashley feigned a sudden realization, rushing to pull me up. “Ms. Chen, is that really you? You’re Julian’s ex-wife! How can you be working as a server here?” The grand hall seemed to hit a mute button. A deafening silence descended. All eyes fixated on me. Then, a wave of ridicule swept through the room. “I heard Mr. Astor’s ex-wife abandoned him for money when he was at his lowest, suffering from a heart condition…” “Hmph, truly, the wicked get what they deserve.” “Abandoning Mr. Astor and now reduced to being a server, she completely deserves this!” Someone splashed red wine over my head. Then, wine rained down from all directions, glasses shattering on my body one after another. Dark red wine mixed with bright red blood, pooling on the floor. Clearly, these people, eager to curry favor with Julian, wanted to vent his anger for him. Blood streamed down my forehead, across my cheeks. Yet, I felt no pain, remaining silent. Julian watched me, his eyes unequivocally cold. “Cassidy Chen, why aren’t you speaking? Is it because talking to you also costs money?” Julian sneered, and a chorus of mocking laughter echoed around him. “You’re here as a server, aren’t you, just to ask me for money? I’ll satisfy you!” He waved a hand, and someone brought over a dozen bottles of expensive red wine, opening each one. “If you drink all this wine, I’ll give you thirty thousand dollars.” Now, he flung the money onto the floor, making the wine and blood on the ground look even more crimson. Julian’s face was etched with an unyielding coldness. Everyone in the hall watched the spectacle with mocking disdain. Since the artificial heart replacement, my body had become increasingly weak. I couldn’t lift anything heavy, couldn’t run or jump, and even walking a few steps left me gasping for breath. The alcohol that normal people used to numb themselves, even a small amount, could cause my artificial heart to fail. I looked up at him, a slight smile touching my lips. Finally, I spoke. “Then, that two hundred thousand dollars… I don’t need to pay it back, do I?” Julian’s face froze, a flicker of raw fury igniting in his bone-chilling gaze. Then, a tight grinding sound came from his clenched jaw. “Fine!” At his answer, I smiled, then grabbed a bottle and began to pour the wine down my throat. The burning liquid filled my mouth, and my body instinctively gagged, almost vomiting. I forced myself to swallow, then another bottle, and another. Everyone watched, ironically, as if it were a joke. Only Julian’s face grew darker, grimmer. As I finished another bottle and reached for another, Julian finally couldn’t take it anymore. He grabbed my hand. “Cassidy Chen, without money, you’ll die, won’t you?!” Looking at his bloodshot eyes, I nodded. “You’re right. Without money, I’ll die.” He threw my hand away in a fit of rage. “Fine, then drink it all! Drink until you’re satisfied!” My body felt as heavy as if bound by a massive stone. The artificial heart in my chest seemed to have stopped beating. I smiled, took a shallow breath, and reached for the wine bottle, ready to drink again. Julian, unable to bear it any longer, snatched the bottle from my hand, letting out a raw, guttural roar. “Enough!” My body gave out completely, collapsing to the floor. Fine shards of glass pricked my skin, staining the ground crimson. Hearing the commotion, my best friend Chloe rushed over, cradling me in her arms in horror, and screamed at Julian: “Cassidy gave you her heart! She’s living on an artificial heart right now, she can’t drink alcohol at all, she could die, do you hear me?!” Julian, hearing Chloe’s desperate shout, froze as if struck by lightning. The mockery and coldness instantly crumbled from his face, replaced by endless shock and terror. His eyes widened, staring intensely at me in the pool of blood. His lips trembled, as if he wanted to say something, but all strength seemed to drain from him, unable to utter a single word. It felt like an eternity before he finally spoke. “Cassidy Chen, I can’t believe you’d come up with such a lie, even this, all for money!” I trembled as I stood, meeting his gaze with a cold smile. To him, I had once abandoned him for money, at his most painful and difficult moment. Now that he was successful, I, this shameless woman, would naturally abandon my dignity and spin lies for money. I met his disgusted, icy stare. Even though I no longer had my original heart, my chest inexplicably twisted with pain. “Cassidy Chen, you really went to great lengths to deceive me.” I slowly pulled away from Chloe’s support. Though my body could barely bear its own weight, I managed to stand steady on my own. I looked at Julian and smiled. “I never expected you to figure it out.” After saying that, I glanced at Chloe. Her eyes flickered with surprise, then she seemed to realize something, and her slightly parted mouth closed with difficulty. Tears streamed from her eyes, unstoppable. She didn’t understand why I still refused to tell the truth, even now. Julian scoffed. “You’re still as shameless as ever!” I simply smiled, saying nothing more. Seeing my demeanor, Julian seemed to grow even angrier. He was about to speak when Ashley suddenly grabbed his hand. “Honey, Ms. Chen must have a reason for faking being a heart donor to scam money from you. Just help her out!” Julian glanced at me, some of the anger receding from his face. He scoffed, signing a check, and tossed it at me. “Fine. Your friend says drinking will kill you? Then keep this money. Use it to buy a burial plot!” I bent down, picked up the check from the floor, and carefully smoothed it out. “Thank you for your generosity, Mr. Astor.” Seeing me stumble, almost falling, Ashley, feigning sympathy, walked over to steady me, her nails digging sharply into my flesh. “Ms. Chen, no matter how little you value your own body, you shouldn’t sell your heart!” I forcefully pulled my hand away. Ashley, in turn, pretended to be pushed, tumbling dramatically into Julian’s arms. “Ms. Chen, I just wanted to help you…” Ashley looked at me pitifully, squeezing out two tears from the corners of her eyes. Julian’s anger surged, his eyes filled with immense disappointment. He immediately called security and had Chloe and me escorted out. In the biting cold wind, Chloe’s tears finally burst forth. She looked at me heartbroken. “Why won’t you tell him, even now? If only you told him the truth, you wouldn’t have to endure all this…” I just smiled, shaking the check in my hand. “It’s all in the past now. What’s the point of saying more?” I gave a small shrug. “Look, this thirty thousand dollars, it would take me ages to earn.” Chloe looked at me, still unable to resist asking, “Is it truly worth it for you to go through all this? He humiliated you so terribly…” I fell silent. Seven years ago, when I gave Julian my heart, it was never about whether it was ‘worth it.’ It was simply because I wanted to save him. That was all. Thinking of these things, perhaps the past thoughts were too complex. I suddenly coughed up a mouthful of blood, my vision blurring. In my ears, I heard Chloe’s frantic shouts. When I woke again, I found myself in a hospital bed. The sterile white room hurt my eyes. Chloe sat by my bedside. Seeing me awake, she immediately grasped my hand, crying uncontrollably. “Cassidy, you… you scared me to death. How are you feeling?” I opened my mouth, my throat painfully dry. Soon, a doctor examined me. His face grave, he told me, “Ms. Chen, your body is no longer suitable for an artificial heart. If we cannot find a suitable match within three months, your life will be in danger.” I was speechless. Chloe was already weeping. Finding a suitable heart within three months was an incredibly slim chance. This almost certainly meant I only had three months left to live.

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Vivian Brown, the new junior associate at the law firm, had an uncanny ability to anticipate my every move. When our client, Mr. Li—an avid connoisseur of Big Red Robe tea—visited, I was moments away from ordering an $88,000 tin as a gesture of goodwill. But Vivian was already there, presenting the exact same vintage with a polished smile. After we secured a multi-million-dollar case thanks to her timely tea offering, the managing partner assigned us to draft a comprehensive proposal. I spent nights preparing two distinct approaches: one conservative, one aggressive. Yet at the presentation, Vivian produced identical documents, down to the footnotes. I dismissed it as coincidence—until the annual bar exam competition. Vivian, tears streaking her cheeks, pointed at me before the partners. “You copied my answers!” she cried. When our papers were compared, they matched word for word. Because she’d submitted first, I was branded a cheater. The managing partner declared me ethically compromised and terminated me on the spot. Even Ethan Xu, my colleague and boyfriend, turned away in disgust. Ruined, I succumbed to despair and ended my life. But with my final breath, one question burned: How? How had she mirrored my work? How did she always know? Then—I woke up. Back to the morning before Mr. Li’s arrival. Back to the moment before I reached for the phone to order that cursed tea. 1 “Excuse me, regarding the collaboration with your firm, we need to take some more time to consider. After all, your firm’s experience is rather… junior. We…” Inside the law firm, I listened to the big client, Mr. Li, about to reject our multi-million-dollar contract. My vision blurred for a moment, and then a shocking realization hit me: I had been reborn. Just then, Vivian Brown, the firm’s new junior associate, stepped forward with a gentle smile. She produced a box of Big Red Robe tea, valued at eighty-eight thousand dollars, and pushed it courteously towards Mr. Li. “Mr. Li, I heard you’re a connoisseur of Big Red Robe. I made a special effort to have some sourced directly from the origin for you to sample. Please, try it?” Mr. Li was a passionate lover of Big Red Robe. Hearing Vivian’s words, he beamed, unable to contain his delight. He accepted the tea, and immediately agreed to sign the contract. Vivian had successfully secured the multi-million-dollar deal, becoming the firm’s top contributor. Watching it all unfold, I felt a bone-deep chill. The exact same scene, identical to my previous life, had just played out again! It was like this in my past life too. Mr. Li had been hesitant to sign the contract. In desperation, I had called upon many friends, owed countless favors, just to discover he loved Big Red Robe tea. I immediately went to buy some. But Vivian had already gotten there first, presenting it and effortlessly closing the deal. At first, I thought it was just a coincidence and swallowed my frustration. But then, after that multi-million-dollar contract was secured with the tea, our managing partner was ecstatic. He urgently demanded that Vivian and I prepare a cooperation proposal that would impress the client. I approached it from a practical perspective, developing two distinct proposals tailored to the client’s needs. The next day, however, Vivian presented two proposals identical to mine to the managing partner. He was thoroughly impressed and immediately decided to use her plan. I grew increasingly uneasy, yet I couldn’t pinpoint exactly what felt wrong. Then came the firm’s annual bar exam competition. Vivian, tears streaming down her face, accused me. “Cassidy, I know whoever gets first place in this competition will be recommended for overseas training. But even if you want to go abroad, you can’t just copy my answers!” I tried to protest, but when the managing partner compared our exam papers, my answers were, impossibly, identical to Vivian’s. Because she submitted her paper first, I was deemed to have cheated. The managing partner, convinced I had a serious character flaw, fired me. My colleague and boyfriend, Ethan Xu, also concluded I was morally bankrupt and broke up with me. Ultimately, I lost my job, succumbed to depression, and chose to end my life. To my dying breath, I couldn’t comprehend it. Why were my bar exam answers identical to Vivian’s? Why could she anticipate my every move, no matter what I intended to do? This time, I was determined to find out what was happening. I would not die confused again! 2 Soon, just like in my previous life, the managing partner called a meeting, instructing each of us to prepare a proposal for the contract. Whoever’s proposal was chosen would become the direct attorney for this multi-million-dollar deal. I meticulously recalled my previous life. I had drafted the proposal at the law firm, and I’d gone out for lunch and dinner. It must have been during those breaks that Vivian copied it. This time, to be absolutely safe, I completed the entire proposal on my personal laptop, never letting it out of my sight until I left work. After clocking out, I went straight home and pulled an all-nighter, refining both proposals. The logic and theoretical depth were far superior to what I’d produced in my past life. The next morning, armed with my polished proposals, I arrived at the firm. The moment I saw the managing partner, I handed them over. “Sir, I’ve prepared two different proposals from a practical standpoint, tailored to the client’s needs. Whether they prefer a conservative or aggressive approach, these will meet their requirements.” The managing partner frowned, a flicker of displeasure crossing his face. He opened the proposals, and his expression quickly soured. “Cassidy, I understand you’re eager for this contract, but you can’t just copy Vivian’s proposal!” I froze, disbelief washing over me. How was that even possible? Before I could react, Vivian approached, her tone feigning thoughtfulness, yet laced with thinly veiled arrogance. “Sir, please don’t be upset. Yesterday, I heard that Cassidy was watching my computer while I was out for dinner. And today, she brings in proposals identical to mine. While her actions are rather… low, she was only trying to gain your approval, after all.” Then she turned to me. “Cassidy, if you were interested in my ideas regarding conservative and aggressive strategies, you could have just discussed them with me directly. Isn’t it a bit too shameful to just copy them in secret?” I listened to Vivian’s words in utter disbelief. I strode forward and snatched the proposals from her hand. Sure enough, her proposals weren’t just identical in their core ideas; even the subheadings and paragraph formatting were exactly the same as mine! I couldn’t hold back any longer. My gaze turned icy as I looked at Vivian. “You claim these are your proposals. Then tell me, what was your thought process? How did you analyze the conservative and aggressive approaches?” This part of the content, I hadn’t even written down. Vivian couldn’t possibly know! Regarding the conservative approach, I had based my analysis on the opposing company’s overall reaction to lawsuits over the past five years— “Regarding the conservative approach, I based it on the opposing company’s overall reaction to lawsuits over the past five years. I believe this reflects their traditional, entrenched attitude when facing litigation.” My thought process hadn’t even fully formed in my mind before Vivian had already spoken it all aloud. Her fluent delivery was uncannily identical to my own thoughts, not a single word astray! I was stunned! How was this possible?! The managing partner’s eyes lit up. After all, this was truly an advanced concept. He quickly pressed her. “Vivian, what about the aggressive strategy analysis?” “The aggressive strategy includes relatively bolder clauses. This is to make the opposing company clearly see their own risks and opportunities, which will make them more receptive.” Vivian spoke again. My eyes widened, as if I’d seen a ghost. I couldn’t believe anything I was hearing. She had said exactly what I was thinking, even the logical phrasing was identical! A cold sweat broke out over my entire body. I felt as if Vivian was an actual mind-reader, lurking inside my head. It was terrifying! 3 “Vivian! You are truly outstanding! With you here, this contract will be absolutely seamless!” The managing partner was effusive with praise. My colleagues around me looked on with envy, murmuring amongst themselves: “Vivian is amazing! She came up with such an excellent proposal in such a short time. No wonder Cassidy was jealous and copied her!” “How shameful! She’s supposed to be a seasoned lawyer, a senior employee, yet she had the nerve to copy a new junior associate’s proposal. I’m truly embarrassed for Cassidy!” “Last time, when Vivian bought that expensive tea for the client, I saw Cassidy about to order it online. And now she’s copied her proposals again. Is she just targeting Vivian and trying to imitate everything she does? That’s disgusting!” “Fire her! I’d be disgusted to have someone like that in our firm. Fire her immediately!” My boyfriend and colleague, Ethan Xu, approached me, his face filled with impatience and embarrassment. “Cassidy, do you have any sense of shame?! I told you long ago not to compete with Vivian, but you just had to do something so shameless. It’s mortifying!” Everyone watched as Ethan, my own boyfriend, came forward to condemn me, further cementing their belief that I was a plagiarist. A torrent of vile insults assailed me, some even spitting in my direction! I stood frozen, my face pale, unable to believe any of this! How could this be happening? Was it truly just a profound connection between Vivian and me, our minds thinking so alike that our proposals turned out identical? But even if that were the case, why did she anticipate my every word, speaking it just before me? My thoughts grew increasingly chaotic. Vivian, however, chose that moment to speak, feigning magnanimity. “Alright, everyone, please don’t talk about Cassidy like that. I believe she was just a bit vain and made a mistake. I don’t think we need to fire her, do we? After all, it’s not easy for her to keep this job.” Ethan looked at her with even more tenderness. “Vivian, you are truly both brilliant and kind. Cassidy copied you, and yet you’re still defending her. Just for your kindness alone, Cassidy should kneel and apologize to you!” He then glared fiercely at me. Vivian chuckled softly. “Ethan, you’re being too serious. It’s just a small matter. There’s no need for her to kneel. I just hope Cassidy doesn’t hold a grudge and seek revenge on me because of this.” “Pfft! What right does she have to take revenge on you?!” Ethan scoffed. “Next week is our firm’s annual law exam. Once you get first place and go abroad for training, Cassidy probably won’t even be worthy of seeing you again for the rest of her life!” Ethan’s gaze at me was filled with disgust, just like in my previous life, as if he was afraid of being associated with me. I remembered when Ethan used to look at me with such admiration, saying I was the most brilliant lawyer, and the thought now was utterly laughable. I clenched my fists tightly. “I did not copy anyone, never!” Ethan, hearing this, didn’t believe a word. He scoffed, mocked me further, then joined the other colleagues, all surrounding Vivian as if she were a star, going over the two proposals I had just presented. Vivian reveled in the attention. She gave me a provocative look, her eyes brimming with triumph. In that one look, I instantly knew: this was absolutely no coincidence! Vivian had definitely used some method I didn’t know about to copy my work! I had to find out!

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After winning a staggering eighty million dollars in the lottery, I immediately withdrew from the National Online Fiction Competition. When Cassius Blackwood, a fellow student, found out, he slapped me across the face. “Running away like a coward on the eve of battle, do you really think you’re honoring our professor’s guidance and your friends’ hopes?” he sneered, his voice dripping with accusation. “Or is it that your submission is flawed, and you’re just scared the judges will discover it?” In my previous life, Cassius’s competition entry was identical to mine. I’d begged Victoria, my editor and the source of my novel’s inspiration, and Chloe, my childhood friend who I’d spent every day with, to help clear my name. But they’d released apology statements instead, practically begging the judges to overlook my “youthful indiscretion” and grant me a second chance. The internet, however, was merciless, roaring its condemnation and branding me a “shameless plagiarist.” Unable to prove my innocence, I bore the stigma, expelled from school and facing crippling penalties. My mother, desperate to clear my name, tirelessly fought for justice, only to be cyberbullied herself, falling gravely ill overnight. The relentless blows shattered my spirit. To spare my family further burden, I leapt from the hospital rooftop, plunging into the abyss. But when I opened my eyes again, I found myself back exactly one week before the competition. … “Ethan, I made your favorite braised ribs. Have some before you write, okay?” Victoria, my sister, five years my senior, signed, her face etched with a familiar tenderness. I jolted, nearly toppling from my chair, a wave of shock washing over me. Just then, Chloe pushed open the door. She offered me a small box, her voice laced with concern. “I heard your shoulder’s been bothering you lately. This massage device might help you relax.” This scene was terrifyingly familiar. In my previous life, I truly believed I was the luckiest person alive. My sister, Victoria, had always cared for me with unwavering devotion. Chloe, my childhood friend, was more like family than mere kin. But this rebirth… it had chilled me to the bone. In that former life, when the National Online Fiction Competition submission that bore my name turned out to be identical to Cassius Blackwood’s, the judges immediately took notice. As an author with multiple accolades, I’d had every hope of clinching first place. But with that scandal, I was plunged into a maelstrom of public outcry. I desperately reached out to Victoria, my editor and the one who provided my writing inspiration, and to Chloe, my ever-present childhood friend, begging them to clarify the truth. To my horror, they refused. My sister, Victoria, even issued an apology statement without my consent, pleading with the competition organizers to show leniency, given my “tender age,” and grant me a chance to atone. The internet exploded. “No wonder he dared to plagiarize in such a huge competition! Turns out he has an editor for a sister to cover his tracks. The whole family’s rotten to the core!” “Exactly! An apology and he gets a second chance? Who are they kidding? If apologies fixed everything, what would we need the police for?” “Still ‘tender age’? He’s at least eighteen, isn’t he? If he wants to be a man-child, he can stay home and be one. Don’t come out here and disgust people!” Under the immense pressure of public opinion, the competition organizers rejected Victoria’s plea. The truth was, I’d entered that competition for the first-place prize money of thirty thousand dollars. Victoria had lost her voice due to an illness, unable to utter a sound. I wanted that money to pay for her vocal cord restoration surgery. Yet, after the competition, not only did I fail to win the prize, I was slapped with crippling breach-of-contract penalties. Meanwhile, Cassius Blackwood, with no prior writing experience, inexplicably won first place. His competition entry was hailed as the most outstanding short story in years, even bought by a film studio and slated for adaptation. Just like that, he became an overnight sensation, a literary golden boy. And I, became a reviled plagiarist. The plagiarism scandal’s devastating impact led to my expulsion from university. To pay the astronomical fines, I, without a degree, resorted to working as a delivery driver. But when customers recognized me, they deliberately gave me poor reviews, nullifying a day’s hard work. My mother, desperate to clear my name, ran herself ragged, only to be cyberbullied until she fell ill overnight and ended up in the ICU. To cover the exorbitant medical bills, I took a job hauling cement at a construction site. After only a few days, the foreman fired me, withholding all my wages. Then, the hospital called. They told me my mother’s condition was deteriorating, and I should prepare myself. That final thread of hope snapped. I completely lost the will to live. One late night, I climbed to the hospital rooftop and leapt. But when I opened my eyes again, I found myself back exactly one week before the writing competition. Looking at my sister and childhood friend, who were so meticulously caring for me, my heart felt a strange, cold mix of emotions. “Ethan, this is some writing material I got through internal channels. If you follow this, you’re guaranteed to win first place.” Victoria signed, placing a file before me. Chloe chuckled playfully. “Ethan, you have to get first place! I’m counting on your prize money to treat us to a lavish meal!” I knew she was joking, but I couldn’t bring myself to smile. Victoria was my own sister; she couldn’t possibly betray me. And Chloe, my childhood friend, sharp-tongued perhaps, but always fiercely protective. So, it couldn’t be them. What on earth was going wrong? In elementary school, I’d won first prize in a children’s writing competition. Later, in college, I frequently published stories in literary magazines. My beloved Professor Caldwell always said my skill made winning this competition a walk in the park. So, when the plagiarism scandal broke, he believed in me. What’s more, my serialized novel had been published and sold well. There was no reason for me to copy Cassius. Just then, Cassius suddenly released screenshots showing the submission times for our entries. His was dated an hour before mine. And a week before the competition, he’d posted his writing inspiration and novel outline on his social media. Instantly, the internet’s curses threatened to drown me. “It must be Ethan who copied Cassius, the evidence is undeniable, yet he still tries to argue!” “I heard Ethan even published a book before, it must have been plagiarized too, just never caught!” “Good thing his own sister and childhood friend had a change of heart and didn’t shield him, otherwise, the original creator would have been unjustly ruined.” The discussion spiraled, trending across all platforms. The competition organizers, taking it seriously, immediately verified the evidence Cassius presented. After careful review, all evidence was deemed authentic, with no signs of manipulation. Their final conclusion: I had plagiarized Cassius. I was stunned. That competition entry, I’d written it based on the inspiration my sister gave me. How could it be plagiarism? But I had no evidence to prove my innocence. And I couldn’t understand why Cassius’s entry would be identical to mine. Had my sister given Cassius the same material? Yet, Victoria and Chloe seemed utterly normal. I had to start with Cassius’s social media. By my calculations, he should have already shared his novel inspiration and outline. But with someone constantly watching me, I quickly jotted down a superficial outline to appease them. Then, feigning a sudden stomachache, I claimed I needed to use the restroom. A flicker of annoyance crossed Chloe’s eyes. “Always so high-maintenance, aren’t you? Victoria has already given you the inspiration and material, and you’re still trying to slack off!” Victoria quickly signed, attempting to smooth things over. “The competition is still a week away. Don’t rush Ethan; there’s still plenty of time. If he follows my advice, he’s guaranteed to win first place!” But the time I had to uncover the truth was running out. I locked myself in the restroom and immediately opened Cassius’s social media. I’d heard his father was a senior executive at a major corporation and his mother a university professor. He had many followers because of his good looks. But I didn’t know him well. However, Victoria’s job required her to interact with Cassius’s mother, so they must have known each other. Once, I’d overheard her signing to Chloe, saying Cassius was sophisticated and refined, unlike me, a total bumpkin. She even told Chloe that she should find a husband like Cassius – handsome and from a good family. I’d thought she was joking. Now, it all sounded like the honest truth. But I simply couldn’t fathom why someone like Cassius, a wealthy, handsome socialite, would want to harm me. Just then, I found his latest post. It was where he’d shared his writing inspiration and novel outline. I stared, stunned. Wasn’t this the exact same material Victoria had just given me? Even his novel outline was identical to the one I’d just casually jotted down. The comments section was full of praise: “Such a unique novel structure! First time I’ve seen something like this. The online fiction world is finally saved!” “Seriously, start writing, blogger! I have a feeling you’re guaranteed to win first place!” An accidental clash of inspiration was understandable. But why was his novel outline also identical to mine? Only Victoria and Chloe had been in my study. Could it really be them? A chill ran down my spine. But why would they do this? Could blood ties and years of friendship truly be worth less than Cassius, someone they barely knew? I stayed in the restroom for an hour, making a bold decision. In my previous life, my competition entry had been in the fantasy genre, my strongest suit. Although I’d won first place, it had felt like old wine in a new bottle, lacking true innovation. This time, I decided to write a mystery thriller. If they claimed I plagiarized last time, I would write something entirely new. Whatever the outcome, at least it would clear my name. That would be enough. Tossing and turning all night, unable to sleep due to the last-minute genre change, I quietly slipped out early the next morning and went to Professor Caldwell’s house. He was my mentor, the first person who ever encouraged me to write. He had placed great hopes on me for this competition. Seeing me, he beamed, pressing a steaming pastry into my hand. “Ethan, you haven’t had breakfast yet, have you?” Noticing my troubled expression, he quickly asked, “Is something wrong? Tell your old professor.” I forced a smile. “Professor, if I don’t win first place in this competition, will you be very disappointed?” Professor Caldwell ruffled my hair, smiling gently. “It doesn’t matter if you don’t win first place. I know your abilities. You can always try harder next time. As long as you’re happy, that’s what’s most important.” His words solidified my resolve. After leaving his house, I received a message from Victoria. “Ethan, where did you run off to? Chloe brought you breakfast, couldn’t find you, and she’s furious.” I replied, “Went out to buy some writing materials. Heading back now.” I didn’t plan to use the inspiration and material Victoria had given me. Nor did I tell her or Chloe about changing my competition genre. After all, they were the prime suspects. I decided to head to the university library to re-outline my competition entry. I stayed there until nightfall, finally finishing my novel outline. I stretched, ready for a break, and decided to check Cassius’s social media. Unexpectedly, Victoria and Chloe showed up. I was confused; how did they know I was here? Victoria then placed a steaming lunchbox on the table, signing, “Afraid you’d forget to eat while writing, so I brought you some food.” Chloe handed me a thermos. “This is chicken broth I simmered all afternoon, to help you recover.” They both looked so sincere. They didn’t seem like people who would stab me in the back. Had I been overthinking things? But if not them, then who? My mind a jumble, I managed a strained smile. “You two came at the perfect time. I’m starving. I’ll just wash my hands and dig in.” With my phone in hand, I headed to the restroom. I didn’t go into the men’s room but opened Cassius’s social media by the sinks. He had indeed posted a new update. “How can someone be so shameless? I kindly shared my inspiration and outline, and someone just took it without permission? What’s the difference between that and a thief? No choice but to rewrite it now.” The post included a photo of a guy studying in the library, his back to the camera. Anyone who knew me would recognize it as me. But who took the picture? The comments section had fans worrying about Cassius, asking if he’d have enough time to rewrite his entry. Cassius replied that he planned to write a mystery thriller this time, and had already outlined it. A jolt went through me. I hadn’t told anyone about changing genres. Why had our chosen genres clashed again? There had to be a spy close to me. Was it Victoria or Chloe? But what could they possibly gain from this? Just then, someone tapped my shoulder. “Ethan, what are you spacing out about?” I jumped, startled. It was Victoria and Chloe. They’d come looking for me when I didn’t return. Still shaken, my eyes darted nervously. “Sis, why don’t you two go back first? I’ll eat later.” I wondered if they’d seen me scrolling through Cassius’s post. The words had barely left my mouth when Chloe exploded. “Ethan, Victoria and I brought you food out of kindness, and that’s your attitude? Don’t think I haven’t noticed, you’ve been avoiding us these past few days. You really are an ungrateful wretch!” Victoria quickly pulled her back, signing, “Chloe has a sharp tongue but a kind heart. Don’t take her words to heart. We were just worried you were overworking yourself.” I quickly replied, “Sis, I know what I’m doing. If it’s too much trouble, I’ll just stay in the dorms these next few days, so you two don’t have to worry.” Chloe scoffed. “Whatever. I can’t be bothered with you!” With that, she dragged Victoria out of the study room. I finally breathed a sigh of relief.

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On New Year’s Eve, my best friend, Stella, planned to marry me off to a local pig farmer with five children. I pretended to be oblivious, clutchng my newly won five-million-dollar lottery ticket, and followed her into the isolated village – a place from which I knew escape would be impossible. Sixteen years later, the five children, nurtured by my painstaking efforts, had grown into accomplished professionals. And then, just as the doctors confirmed my cancer diagnosis, Stella appeared before me, flanked by those same five children. “Actually, all five of these children are mine,” she declared, her voice dripping with venom. “And I must thank you for raising them, allowing me to live a carefree life for so many years. But now you’re useless. Just go and die somewhere out of sight; don’t sully my children’s eyes.” I looked at the ungrateful pack of wolves before me and smiled faintly. “I’ve been waiting for this day too.” 1 “Clara,” Stella chirped, her eyes wide with feigned enthusiasm, “my cousin is a billionaire, single, and currently experiencing life out in the countryside. Why don’t you come home with me for New Year’s? I can arrange a blind date for you two.” Stella’s sudden warmth was no coincidence; she’d just found out about my five-million-dollar lottery win. She pulled out a small, passport-sized photo of her “cousin.” The man in the picture looked to be in his early twenties, with striking dark brows and bright, open eyes—exactly my type. But I knew this man wasn’t Stella’s cousin; he was her husband, a butcher from her hometown. I didn’t press the issue. By the end of the year, I followed her home. The journey was an ordeal: five hours on a train, two hours in a rattling, three-wheeled utility vehicle, and finally, an hour in a bumpy farm cart. Only then did we arrive at Stella’s village, Maplewood Creek. The moment I saw the dilapidated, weather-beaten cabin, I knew—this time, escape would be impossible. Stella’s “cousin,” Mark, emerged from the cabin, trailed by five grimy children. Mark’s skin was tanned dark, his chin obscured by a rough beard; he bore no resemblance to the handsome man in the photo. He seemed to have a profound cognitive impairment; seeing Stella, he pulled at her hand like a child, demanding candy. As for the children, all under ten, they wore patched, threadbare clothes, their innocent eyes wide with apprehension as they stood shyly, silent. I frowned, turning to Stella. Stella laughed. “Clara, I’m sorry I didn’t make it clear earlier. These five children are all my cousin’s adopted children. From today onwards, you’ll be their mother.” I was about to speak, but Stella cut me off. “But I didn’t lie to you! My cousin is actually the son of an industrial magnate. He only broke ties with his family because he insisted on raising these five children. Once they come of age, he can go back and inherit his fortune.” Her story was riddled with holes, clearly a fabrication, but I merely feigned a seven-tenths belief. “Are you telling me the truth?” “Of course! You never wanted children, right? Well, now you’ve avoided the pain of childbirth and gained five children for free! This is a godsend! If it weren’t for our friendship, I wouldn’t even introduce you to him!” Seeing her plastered, insincere smile, I nodded. “Alright. Five children for a multi-million-dollar fortune. Seems worth it, no matter how you look at it!” Once I agreed, Stella whispered a few words to the children and then, with a casual wave, left. I asked one of the older boys to show me around the village. As we walked, I noticed villagers watching me with wary, suspicious eyes. Wherever I went, one of them would follow. I knew they feared I would run, leaving Stella to raise the children alone. Stella had already warned the villagers before she left; any attempt to escape, and they would unite to bind me and drag me back. But I had no intention of running. After familiarizing myself with the village, I returned to Mark’s cabin. I bathed the five children, braided the girls’ hair into cute pigtails, and trimmed the boys’ tangled, overgrown locks. I even considered shaving Mark’s beard, but when he realized Stella had truly left the village, he suddenly went into a rage, grabbing a wooden stick and wildly chasing me, striking out. “Did you drive Stella away, you wicked woman? I’ll kill you!” 2 The five children watched silently as Mark beat me, leaving me bruised and battered. Their cold, indifferent eyes seemed to echo his accusations: my presence had driven their mother away. Yes, Stella was their biological mother. I didn’t expect them to accept me, but I still pulled out my five-million-dollar winnings, dedicating myself to caring for this family of seven. I replaced the dilapidated cabin with a sturdy two-story house, paved roads in the village, and ensured all five children had access to schooling. Perhaps sensing my sincerity, the children gradually stopped resisting me and began to accept me as their mother. But their father, Mark, still treated me as an enemy. After our living conditions improved, he stopped butchering pigs. Instead, he spent his days sitting at the edge of the village, waiting for Stella to come home. My attempts to offer him care were met with indifference, yet I still took him to the clinic every week, hoping to treat his cognitive impairment. Finally, on the day the eldest, Ethan, was accepted into a prestigious high school, Mark’s long wait ended. Stella returned, bedecked in expensive jewelry and carrying various tonics. She embraced Ethan, showering him with kisses. “Ethan, your mother… your aunt knew you were the most promising one.” Ethan’s gaze was complicated; it had been years since he’d seen his birth mother, the woman he longed for. I cleared my throat, interjecting, “Stella, what brings you back this year?” She hadn’t contacted me once in all the years she’d been gone. Her sudden return, I suspected, was only because she’d heard about Ethan’s acceptance into a prestigious high school, and now sought to reconnect. She gave me a falsely grateful look. “Clara, you’ve worked so hard all these years.” She then handed Ethan a portable gaming device. “This is what you always wanted as a child, your aunt finally saved enough money.” A flash of surprise lit up Ethan’s eyes, but as he reached out, I quickly intervened, taking the device. “High school is crucial, son. I’ll hold onto this for you. Once you get into college, I’ll give it back.” Stella’s face twisted in disapproval. “This is my reward for Ethan. You can’t stifle a child’s playful nature.” I met her gaze coolly. “Ethan is the eldest son of an industrial magnate. He’s destined to inherit the family company. If he becomes a spoiled brat from playing games, his entire life will be ruined.” At my words, Stella opened her mouth, then closed it, utterly speechless. After sharing a meal of dumplings, Stella pulled out several bags of gourmet chocolates from her purse, giving them as gifts to the other children. She promised to return and bring them whatever they desired once they achieved success like Ethan. Mark knew Stella didn’t truly love him. So this time, he just stood there foolishly, watching her. Not until Stella rose to leave did he grab her hand. “Stella, don’t go!” She glared at him, then whispered, “If you keep this up, I won’t ever come back!” She then hissed, “If you really can’t bear to lose me, Clara must still have money, right? Steal her bank card for me!” 3 I watched, expressionless, as Mark retrieved the bank card, which still held a million dollars, from my drawer. He handed the card to Stella, who was waiting at the village entrance, a naive, childlike smile on his face. Stella’s eyes gleamed with a flicker of surprise. “What’s the password?” Mark shook his head. “Don’t know.” “Useless!” Stella snarled, throwing the bank card back at Mark’s face. This time, she left without a backward glance. But fearing her bond with the five children might weaken, she called them every year, checking in on their lives. She even mailed each child a Christmas present. I knew she was afraid the children, once they fully accepted me, would grow distant from their biological mother. But I never stopped her. I knew the children needed their birth mother’s attention. Compared to all that, I cared more about their education, determined to mold each of them into pillars of society. Luckily, by the time the five million dollars ran out… The youngest, Ryan, had finally been accepted into Continental University. On the day I was diagnosed with cancer, I hid the diagnosis report under my pillow to avoid dampening the mood. Then, I joyfully hosted a celebration for Ryan’s acceptance. Ethan had flown back from overseas. Chloe had been honored as an outstanding teacher this year. Daniel was a senior physician at St. Jude’s Medical Center. Sophie was pursuing her graduate degree. The villagers all envied me, saying I had raised five successful children, and my days of enjoyment were still ahead. I happily drank a few more glasses, about to make a celebratory speech. But then Mark appeared on stage, pulling Stella by the hand. “Stella’s back! Stella’s back!” Seeing their birth mother after so many years, the five children burst into tears, rushing onto the stage. “Mom!” They embraced tightly, as if they had longed for this reunion for ages. Stella had been planning this heartwarming reunion for sixteen years. This time, she even invited reporters from the National Broadcast News. After exchanging pleasantries, Stella looked at the bewildered villagers, then pointed at me, accusing, “Clara was a home-wrecker! Sixteen years ago, she seduced my husband, and to keep him, she deliberately injured him and left him incapacitated!” “Because she couldn’t have children herself, she stole mine! She made them acknowledge a stranger as their mother! My poor children, they couldn’t resist. But now they’re adults. We can finally reunite, mother and children, as a family!” I wasn’t surprised Stella could utter such words. Mark, in his state, understood nothing of right or wrong. I looked at the five children I had painstakingly raised. “Do you all believe this too?” Ethan pulled out the cancer diagnosis report I had hidden. “Aunt Clara, although you raised us for over a decade, we were forced into it. Now that you have cancer, don’t even think about using your past kindness to coerce us into paying for your treatment!” He didn’t even call me “Mom” anymore, a clear sign he was in on Stella’s scheme. The other four children nodded in agreement. Stella scoffed. “Clara, you destroyed my family, separating me from my children for sixteen years. Your cancer is just divine punishment!” Her voice grew sharp. “If you’re going to die, then just go and die somewhere out of sight; don’t sully my children’s eyes. Whether you agree or not, these five children, you owe them back to me!” This rousing speech quickly resonated with everyone present. Applause erupted throughout the room. The National Broadcast News reporter, seeing my calm reaction, held the microphone to my face. “Ms. Hayes, what do you have to say about this?” “I was never a home-wrecker, nor did I seduce Mark,” I stated, my expression unwavering. “But we understand you won five million dollars back then,” the reporter pressed. “If it wasn’t for love, why would you willingly stay in this remote village and devotedly raise Mark’s children for sixteen years?” I looked at the ungrateful pack of wolves before me and smiled faintly. “That’s an excellent question! Today, I can finally reveal the secret that has been buried in my heart.”

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1 In the seventh year of our unconventional union, Arthur Blackwood inherited everything from his deceased elder brother. Including his brother’s widow, Eleanor Vance. Each time Arthur had spent the night with Eleanor, he would return to my side, holding me close and whispering reassurances: “Lily, just a little longer. As soon as Eleanor gets pregnant, we’ll have our wedding!” This was the sole condition set by his family for him to truly inherit the Blackwood legacy. Back in the Capital City for six months, Arthur had visited Eleanor’s rooms fifty-two times. From an initial once a month, it had escalated to nearly every other day. Finally, on the fifty-second night I sat alone until dawn, the news arrived: Eleanor was pregnant. But with it came a second, crushing announcement: Arthur and Eleanor’s engagement. “Mommy, is someone in the family getting married?” I looked at the vibrant red decorations plastering the house, mechanically pulling my bewildered son, Leo, into my embrace. “Yes, darling. Daddy is marrying the person he loves, so it’s time for us to move.” Arthur didn’t know that our people, the Highland Matriarchs, never concerned themselves with the confines of traditional marriage. … After tucking Leo into bed, I pulled out my phone to book flights back to the Lake Country. Unfortunately, with the New Year’s celebrations over, the rush of returning commuters was immense. The earliest I could book was seven days away. I stared at the date on the ticket, a strange stillness settling over me. February 14th. Valentine’s Day. It was also the seventh anniversary of Arthur and my unique arrangement. A cosmic twist of fate, perhaps. I tugged at the corners of my mouth, a bitter smile. Good. Let it begin on that day, and let it end on that day. A thick cloud of gardenia perfume enveloped me from behind. Arthur’s gentle voice drifted from above my head. “What are you looking at?” My reflex was to quickly turn off my phone screen. “Just some news about gemstones.” In barely six months, the gardenia scent of Eleanor seemed to have permeated Arthur, marinating him. I pushed him away, a flicker of disgust. “Go take a shower before you talk to me.” Arthur sniffed himself, a hint of awkwardness. He released me. “I’m going… I’ve neglected you lately, it’s my fault. I won’t go to Eleanor’s tonight.” Eleanor. He called her name with such intimacy. Before, he at least maintained appearances, calling her “Sister Eleanor” in public and private. Now, not even “sister.” Anyone unaware would surely think Eleanor was Arthur’s wife. The bathroom door abruptly opened. Arthur emerged, trailing steam, wrapped only in a towel. Broad shoulders, narrow waist, a tall, lean physique, still possessing a youthful air rare for a man his age. For a moment, I was transported back seven years, seeing him soaked in the night dew, climbing into my matriarchal home. His face was flushed with triumph, as if he wanted to declare to the world: “Lily, from today, you are mine. For the rest of our lives, we will be one, forever.” Seeing me staring at his body, lost in thought, Arthur chuckled heartily, pulling me into a fierce embrace. “Lily, tonight I’m only with you. Nowhere else.” The clean scent of citrus mixed with the pervasive gardenia, creating a strange, nauseating aroma. I dropped my gaze, a sense of profound melancholy washing over me. The man before me was no longer the man he once was. A knock at the door shattered my thoughts. “Mr. Blackwood, my lady isn’t feeling well. Would you please come see her?” Arthur’s expression of impatience was instantly replaced by tension. He hastily pulled on clothes and headed for the door. “What’s wrong? Has the family doctor been called?” He took a few steps before realizing something. He turned back, his face apologetic, looking at me leaning against the doorframe. “Eleanor isn’t well, I have to go see her. My elder brother is gone; she has no one but me to rely on. I’ll be right back, Lily. You’re always so understanding.” “Understanding.” I had endured it for six months, through fifty-two dark nights. Our people, the Highland Matriarchs, uphold a unique tradition. Men and women do not formally marry; men visit the women’s homes from dusk until dawn. Arthur, by your customs, I welcomed you as my partner fifty-two times. I spoke softly, “Arthur Blackwood.” Arthur’s brows furrowed, words of comfort almost spilling out, but he froze, stunned by the sudden weight on his shoulder. I draped a coat over him. “The night air is chilly. Wear this before you go.” Arthur clutched the coat on his shoulder, his eyes holding an unreadable expression. “Lily, you…” But before he could fathom the bitter pang in his heart, the guest room door softly closed. Seven days, Arthur. That’s all the longer I’ll wait for you. 2 As I expected, Arthur did not return that night. Yet, when I touched the cold emptiness of my side of the bed, a familiar pang of sorrow twisted in my chest. Knocks on the door grew louder, more insistent. I pulled open the door to find a Blackwood household staff member, his face etched with disdain. “The matriarch said to bring the child and come to the Blackwood family estate.” The Blackwood matriarch had always looked down on me. No matter how many times I explained our unique traditions, she dismissed me as nothing more than a woman of loose morals. Her disdain extended to my son, Leo, as well. With such an attitude from above, the household staff naturally followed suit. Upon arriving at the grand hall of the estate, I found all the Blackwood family elders and kin present. Arthur, who had been gone all night, stood beside Eleanor, a look of tender affection in his eyes. The Blackwood matriarch beamed, her face practically splitting into a grin as she gazed at Eleanor’s belly. “Eleanor is finally pregnant. Today, with all the elders present, it’s time to fulfill the promise made six months ago!” The most respected elder of the clan stepped forward, publicly announcing Arthur Blackwood as the new head of the family. “Now that the Blackwood line has an heir, let’s pick a date and hold the wedding.” I looked up, only to see everyone, even Arthur, gazing at Eleanor. Oblivious to the world, he gently stroked Eleanor’s belly, his eyes soft. “I’m a father.” Not “I’m a father again,” but “I’m a father.” A bitter ache seized my heart, and I clenched my fist tighter. Leo’s weak voice echoed through the hall. “Mommy, it hurts.” I quickly loosened my grip. My son’s small hand was bright red. “Mommy’s sorry, Mommy will kiss it better for you, Leo…” My son’s single remark drew the attention of everyone in the hall. The elder frowned. “If news of the Blackwood family head having a child out of wedlock were to spread, the family’s reputation would be ruined.” “Just a bastard born of a loose woman,” Arthur’s mother sneered, glancing at me. “From now on, we’ll say this child is from a distant branch of the Blackwood family, raised here on the estate.” Arthur’s mother disliked me, and that dislike extended to Leo. It had been her idea to use Arthur dividing his attention between two women as leverage for him to secure his position as head of the family. Now that Eleanor was pregnant, Leo naturally became even more disposable. Arthur released Eleanor’s hand. “Mother, isn’t that going too far?” He started to walk toward me but was subtly pulled back by Eleanor. I saw it clearly. Taking Leo’s hand, I walked to Arthur’s mother. “As you wish. From now on, Leo will no longer be Arthur Blackwood’s son.” I knelt before Leo, my eyes red, and explained to him. “Darling, from now on, you can’t call him ‘Daddy.’ You must call him ‘Mr. Blackwood,’ do you understand?” Arthur froze. He knew that for the past six months, my presence here was largely due to Leo. He searched my eyes for a hint of reluctance, a flicker of unwillingness. But he found none. A small child couldn’t grasp the complexities of the situation. His little face was tear-streaked and red. I quickly led Leo away, but Eleanor’s voice stopped us. “Miss Hayes, I hear purple jade is best for pregnancy. Arthur searched for days and couldn’t find any, but you seem to have a piece! Would you consider parting with it?” 3 “Arthur Blackwood, is this your wish too?” I looked at the hickeys exposed on Eleanor’s neck as she tilted her head back. A thousand tiny needles pricked my heart, a sharp, lingering pain. That purple jade pendant was our token of commitment. We had met at a gemstone expo in the Lake Country, both drawn to the same piece of purple jade. On the day of our informal ceremony, Arthur had personally braided a cord and tied the jade around my neck, promising a lifetime as a devoted pair. I knew Eleanor coveted it; she had asked Arthur for it more than once, and he had refused. But this time, he averted his gaze, his eyes filled with hesitation and guilt. “Perhaps you should…” “Fine.” I scoffed, ripping the purple jade from my neck and placing it in Eleanor’s hand. Watching Eleanor gleefully put it on, I remarked, “It truly is a perfect match.” Then, under Arthur’s startled gaze, I picked up Leo and walked away. Back at the villa, Leo was still sobbing uncontrollably, gasping for breath. I stifled my own heartache, holding his small hand and asking him, “Leo, if Mommy wants to take you away from here, will you come with Mommy?” Leo’s tears flowed even faster. “Mommy, can’t we stay?” “But Leo, Daddy and Grandmother don’t want us here. Do you want to call him ‘Mr. Blackwood’ forever?” I held back my tears, looking at my son gently. Selfishly, I wished he would only be my child, favoring me unconditionally. But that wasn’t realistic. Leo clutched the Lego set in his arms, Arthur’s birthday gift from last year. “Mommy, I want to celebrate my birthday with Daddy one more time… can I?” The child stubbornly refused to change his words. I closed my eyes, pulling him into a hug, and nodded. “Alright.” … February 12th was Leo’s birthday. I had deliberately reminded Arthur two days in advance, urging him to prepare. This might be the last birthday my son would celebrate with him. I hoped Leo would get his wish. On his birthday, Leo woke up early, put on his little suit, and nervously asked me, “Mommy, Daddy will come to Leo’s birthday party, right?” “He’ll definitely be there,” I whispered, comforting my son, and sent a text to Arthur: “It’s our son’s birthday today. Where are you?” The message vanished without a trace, like a stone dropped into a bottomless well. Leo lowered his head, clutching the ribbon on the cake box. “Daddy’s not coming, is he?” After a long moment, he seemed to come to a realization, comforting himself. “It’s okay. Mr. Blackwood is busy. We won’t bother him. Mommy, let’s eat the cake.” This was the first time my son had called Arthur “Mr. Blackwood.” He seemed to be slowly accepting that his father didn’t truly care for him. But his trembling lips and reddened eyes betrayed his sadness. Watching my son pretend to be strong, the suffocating ache in my heart ignited, burning, clawing at my very soul. I picked up my phone and opened Arthur’s chat. “You don’t even have time for your son’s birthday? Do you really love Eleanor so much, wanting to be by her side every moment?” My finger hovered over the send button, not pressing it for a long time. Just then, a new message popped up in the chat: “Come to the Blackwood family estate.”

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