Author: Momo Chan

1 Dr. Bethany Vance, in a desperate attempt to please her lover, brazenly carved “E.T. I’m sorry” into my grandfather’s liver. Then, she abandoned him on the operating table, leaving him to suffocate. In a furious rage, I dragged her to court, only to discover my own husband, a forensic pathologist, had falsified the autopsy report, fabricating evidence for the murderer. Even more horrifying, to cover up the inscription on Grandpa’s liver, he had mutilated it beyond recognition, a bloody, gruesome mess. My fury simmered, unyielding, my spirit refusing to break. It wasn’t until I was brutally beaten that the chilling truth dawned on me: Dr. Adrian Fairchild, my husband, was the lover who had indirectly caused Grandpa’s death. Later, to coerce me into dropping the charges, Bethany barged into my comatose mother’s hospital room and threatened: “You keep fighting me over that old man. I was kind enough to let your mother cling to life a few more days, but you’re so ungrateful! Guess your husband will just have to deal with another body~” I fought with all my might, but they brutally broke my limbs. Desperate, I found Grandpa Hayes’ handwritten letter at home. He was alive, it turned out, and now the head of a top-secret research facility. Bloodied and broken, clutching the ashes of my family and my parents’ commendations, I dialed Grandpa Hayes, my hand shaking violently: “Grandpa, Mom… she’s gone. Our entire family, laden with honors… now, all tortured to death by the Vance family! Eleanor only asks that you investigate, bring them justice…” … In the courtroom, I clutched the autopsy report, my fingertips trembling uncontrollably. Beneath dozens of horrifying slashes on Grandpa’s liver, the faint, scorched letters “E.T. I’m sorry” were visible. My pupils constricted. I dared not dwell on whether “E.T.” stood for Adrian Fairchild. Adrian rose, and in his capacity as a forensic pathologist, declared in court that Grandpa’s death had nothing to do with Bethany Vance. Fat tears splattered the report, and a storm of rage churned in my chest. My eyes blazing, I slammed my hand on the table. “Adrian Fairchild! Grandpa treated you like his own grandson, yet you’re covering for this incompetent doctor who killed him, falsifying autopsy reports, even mutilating Grandpa’s liver to hide evidence! Have you no humanity left?!” Adrian shielded Bethany behind him, blocking my furious gaze, his expression impatient. “Eleanor Hayes, you need evidence when you speak. How can you pin your grandfather’s death on Bethany? I won’t allow you to ruin Dr. Vance’s reputation like this!” “Besides, mutilating the liver is a necessary part of an autopsy! Your grandfather was good to me, but I am a forensic pathologist. I cannot compromise my integrity and help you extort money!” Before his words faded, he fiercely clasped Bethany’s hand. “Don’t worry. I won’t let anyone slander you.” My body stiffened—the wedding ring on his hand was a different style, perfectly matching Bethany’s. Adrian noticed my gaze, frowned slightly, but tightened his grip. Whispers rippled through the gallery: “Dr. Vance’s family are all esteemed physicians! Her father’s a hospital CEO, her mother a university professor. She herself is respected for her exceptional medical skill and unwavering ethics, she’s helped countless people! Eleanor Hayes has clearly lost her conscience, daring to sue Dr. Vance!” “She’s just trying to cash in! Eleanor Hayes comes from a blue-collar background, and her mom’s been in a coma for years. Any crumbs from the Vance family would be more than enough for her.” “Good thing Dr. Thorne is impartial. But with his background, why did he marry such a belligerent woman? Everyone used to say he and Dr. Vance were the perfect match!” Adrian’s lips curved into a sneering arc at the comments. He looked down at me. “Eleanor Hayes, you claim to be suing Bethany, yet you can’t produce any evidence. I suggest you get lost.” Evidence? He had already tricked me into handing it over and destroyed it. Even Grandpa’s body had been held under his authority, citing case requirements. My nails bit deep into my palms, blood oozing, my entire body trembling from the pain. “Are you truly going to disregard our marriage vows and shield the murderer of my grandfather?” Adrian’s face twisted with disgust and anger: “Are you done with your theatrics? Bethany has nothing to do with your grandfather’s death! I testify as his grandson-in-law that your grandfather was already on his last legs. Your family is just trying to extort money! Since that’s how it is, don’t blame me for being ruthless!” With that, without waiting for my reply, Adrian submitted an audio recording. In it, my voice could be heard “conspiring” to slander Bethany Vance, then “furious” arguing after he supposedly stopped me. My chest heaved with rage. I screamed at the judge: “That recording is falsified! I demand an investigation!” But no one believed me. The judge immediately dismissed the request, giving a subtle nod to Bethany before ruling against me on the spot. He even stripped me of all my assets, deeming them compensation for Bethany Vance’s emotional distress. When the trial concluded, I refused to accept the verdict. As I shrieked my innocence, someone suddenly pulled out a commendation plaque and thrust it into Bethany’s arms, deliberately looking at me: “Dr. Vance has a kind heart! You saved my son’s life! We all support you! Don’t let this trash upset you!” “Anyone who dares touch you has to answer to us, the families you’ve helped!” Bethany’s face wore a mask of feigned serenity. As she turned away from the crowd, she mouthed a malicious taunt: “Your grandfather got what he deserved. Who are you to fight me?” Rage, like wildfire, ignited from my feet and blazed to my head. I shrieked, lunged at Bethany, tore the commendation plaque from her arms, and violently slapped it across her face. Bethany clutched her face, crying out in pain. Adrian’s hand swung, connecting with my cheek, then he grabbed a nearby chair and smashed it into my head. Blood streamed from my scalp into my eyes, painting my world crimson. “You shrew! Don’t think I won’t hit a woman! Are you done acting out?!” He didn’t spare me another glance. He scooped Bethany into a bridal carry and rushed her to the hospital. The patients’ families left behind glared at me, fists and feet raining down like a storm. “I don’t hit women, but I hit animals! You dare lay a hand on Dr. Vance, you have a death wish!” “Your grandfather deserved to die! Your whole family belongs in hell!” Security arrived much later to disperse the enraged families. As they left, they didn’t forget to spit at me. I lay in a pool of my own blood, clutching the torn report, tears streaming down my face. 2 Time blurred. A torrential downpour began. I stumbled to my feet, limping, each step a wince, to the forensics department. I refused to believe Adrian Fairchild could control everything there. Grandpa hadn’t been cremated yet. I had to get his body and demand a new autopsy. As I crept inside, behind a one-way mirror, two figures writhed, intertwined. I froze, stunned. So “E.T.” was Adrian Fairchild. The lover Bethany Vance had charmed was my own husband. And Adrian, who had inadvertently caused Grandpa’s death, as an impartial forensic pathologist, was actually providing false testimony for Bethany! Adrian’s face was flushed, his body moving with a ruthless rhythm, eliciting breathless moans from Bethany. And Grandpa’s remains lay on the slab nearby. Rage engulfed me. Just as I was about to burst in, two bodyguards appeared from the shadows, pinning me to the ground. To prevent my cries from attracting attention, they clamped a hand over my mouth. Bethany’s gaze met mine through the one-way mirror, a smirk twisting her lips. “Adrian, don’t be mad at me. I promise I’ll spend my next birthday with you. And now you’ve helped me again. How can I ever thank you enough?” Adrian gasped for breath. “Baby, I want you to unlock more intimate experiences with me. I want to try everything with you. It’s all Eleanor Hayes’ fault, clinging to you so stubbornly. I haven’t been able to be close to you these past few days, I’ve missed you so much…” Bethany let out a melodious moan. “Only me? Is your wife no good?” A flicker of contempt crossed Adrian’s features. “Her? She’s obsessed with her dead-end grandpa and her mom on life support. In bed, she’s cold, lifeless, completely unresponsive.” Vile words forced their way into my ears, and tears of humiliation streamed unchecked down my face. Dusk fell slowly, and the bodyguards forced me to witness the entire lewd scene. My heart had already died for Adrian when he provided false testimony for a murderer. Now, it was utterly, completely cold. When they were dressed, Bethany waved the bodyguards to release me. Just as I prepared to seize the opportunity to take Grandpa’s body, Adrian’s icy voice drifted from inside. “The case is closed. To avoid any further complications, cremate the old man immediately.” A roar erupted in my ears. The next second, I stumbled, forcing my numb knees to carry me forward, bursting into the room. Adrian’s face flashed with panic when he saw me. He quickly adjusted his clothes, then shielded Grandpa’s body. He spoke first, angrily: “Why are you here, instead of preparing compensation money? Still trying to play your slanderous games against Bethany?!” I articulated each word precisely: “Without family consent, a body cannot be cremated. I am taking Grandpa’s body for a new autopsy!” Adrian burst into laughter, as if I had told the funniest joke. “What if you don’t consent?” he sneered. “You’re so naive. Don’t you understand by now? The Vance family holds immense power in Metropolis. You, a pauper, can’t fight them!” “Let this be the end of it. I can still, out of consideration for our past, continue our life together.” Then he smiled like a demon from hell. “Someone, take the body. Cremate it immediately!” 3 My heart instantly felt constricted by a giant hand, the pain tearing through me. My eyes burned red as I glared at Adrian. Grandpa had given his all for him. In all our years of marriage, I understood his hard work, handling all the chores myself. Grandpa, to help him maintain appearances, had even given him most of his retirement savings to buy high-end watches. How could he, again and again, block every path to justice for Grandpa? Enraged, I slapped him directly across the face. Adrian stood stunned. Bethany frowned and pushed me, and a bodyguard kicked me to the ground. “Do you think you can just hit my man, Eleanor?” I lay sprawled on the floor, my chest aching, unable to speak. Adrian regained his composure, his gaze chillingly cold. “Bethany, she’s beyond reform. Let her watch the old man get cremated herself.” My fury surged, and I screamed, “No!” Then I violently coughed up a mouthful of dark blood. Adrian’s eyes flashed with panic, then were instantly replaced by anger. The bodyguards tossed me into the crematorium like a sack of garbage. Grandpa’s body was right beside me, but I was firmly held down, unable to reach him no matter how I struggled. Tears streamed down my face again as I watched, helpless, as Grandpa’s body was fed into the incinerator. The flames instantly roared to life, tongues of fire ravenously consuming Grandpa’s form. I screamed curses at Adrian and Bethany, who stood beside me, smiling. Adrian grabbed my stained, long hair, and with all his might, slapped me, then forced my head to face the fiery furnace. “Look closely. If you don’t behave, you’ll end up like this too.” Blood filled my mouth, mixing with tears as I swallowed, a grotesque, bitter laugh escaping me: “Impossible… I will make you all pay… I will, I will avenge Grandpa!” Adrian chuckled. “All the evidence has been scrubbed. How will you get revenge?” “Just be a docile housewife, and I’ll continue to provide for you. Don’t let me catch you opposing Bethany again, or I will divorce you. Without me, who would want you, a used woman I’ve tossed aside?” Years ago, when my mother was severely injured and became comatose, Adrian had persuaded me to quit my high-paying job to become a stay-at-home wife, claiming it was to better care for her. To compensate Adrian, I did everything to maintain our home, allowing him to focus on his work. But I never imagined people could change so much… Watching him walk away, the last sliver of affection I held for him slowly vanished. The flames in the incinerator died down. I stifled my tears and collected Grandpa’s ashes. As I prepared to bury him, my phone suddenly rang. “Ms. Hayes, your mother’s condition has improved. Please come to the hospital immediately…” I immediately grabbed the urn and flew to the hospital. The moment I pushed open the door, I froze—Bethany Vance’s hand rested on my mother’s oxygen tube, leisurely playing with it, twisting it. I roared, charging at her, but a bodyguard kicked me to the ground, pinning me. Bethany smiled, then yanked the oxygen tube free. “Your mother should have died ages ago! Your parents, investigating organ trafficking, dared to look into the Vance family? Do you know, your beloved husband, Adrian Fairchild, was the one who leaked their undercover identities?!” “I pitied your father, his organs carved out, so I was kind enough to let your mother cling to life for a few more days! But you’re so ungrateful, aren’t you?” “Well then, your mother can’t stay alive either.” 4 My breath hitched. My parents were undercover police officers, outwardly posing as small shopkeepers. Adrian only learned of their true identities after we married. I never, in my wildest nightmares, imagined that the person who killed my parents would be the man I loved most, my husband! Hatred surged in my chest. I struggled desperately. “You beast! Are you even human?! Stop it, you hear me?! Stop! You’re a disgrace to your profession…” My mother’s face, already pale, turned purple. The EKG monitor shrieked, its urgent beeps echoing the chaos. Bethany sneered, and the EKG line flatlined. My body went limp, my mouth agape, unable to breathe, only tears streaming endlessly. Bethany clapped her hands, casually saying, “Looks like Adrian will have to deal with another body for me. Good thing he’s so practiced~” When Adrian pushed the door open, he hadn’t expected to see me. His footsteps faltered. I glared viciously as he approached my mother’s body, screaming, “Don’t touch my mother! You murderers!” Adrian’s cold gaze swept over me. “Your mother should have died years ago. If I hadn’t paid to keep her on life support all these years, would she be alive now?” “Don’t blame me. Blame her for getting in Bethany’s way.” I refused to let them take my mother’s body again, fighting with all my strength. But the harder I resisted, the more brutally I was beaten. As Adrian left with my mother’s body, he glanced back at me. “Stop struggling. Your mother is dead, so be it. I’ll continue to provide for you from now on.” “As long as you drop all this, we can still be a loving couple.” I forced open my swollen eyelids and spat blood at him. “You’re dreaming!” Bethany laughed, throwing herself into Adrian’s arms. “Brother, why waste words on this foolish woman? If a woman’s disobedient, a beating sets her straight~ Brother, you’re not going soft on her, are you?” Adrian shot a glance at the bodyguards. “Hit her!” Then he turned and left, his face impassive, leaving only the order: “Break her spirit, but don’t kill her.” My mother’s body was taken away. I lay on the floor of the hospital room, my limbs brutally broken, barely clinging to life. I refused to give up, clinging to my last breath after they left, searching for my mother’s body. But all I found, in the end, was a handful of ashes. Numbly, I carried the ashes back to my parents’ old house. Inside, it was a mess. The lock had been pried open, and all my parents’ belongings were strewn outside. A neighbor, unable to bear it, spoke up. “Little Eleanor, why are you shaking them down when you could be living a decent life? Your husband had to sell your house to compensate Dr. Vance just to cover for you. Your husband has been good to your family. From now on, you better serve him well and give him plenty of healthy sons.” Bloodied, I forced a bitter smile. “Serve him? He killed my whole family! I will avenge this, no matter what!” The neighbor stiffened, muttered, “Ungrateful wretch,” and quickly slammed her door shut. I ignored her, despairingly picking up my parents’ belongings piece by piece. Then my phone rang. Adrian’s cold voice came through: “You have nothing now. From now on, you can only rely on me. Want to come back home? Then forget everything that happened. Otherwise, go wander the streets.” I gritted my teeth. “Even if it costs me my life, I will pursue this to the end. I don’t believe you and the Vance family can control everything. I will get justice for my family!” Adrian scoffed. “Stubborn to the very end. I’d like to see who in all of Metropolis dares to help you, risking the Vance family’s wrath!” The call disconnected. I took a deep breath to steady myself. They treated human lives like dirt, persecuted the innocent. I refused to believe there was no justice in this world! I continued to pick up my parents’ belongings, accidentally knocking over a metal box. A yellowed letter fell out. It was Grandpa Hayes’ handwritten letter! Only after reading the letter did my tears finally stop. Grandpa Hayes was alive. And he was now the supreme head of a top-secret research facility. Bloodied and broken, clutching the ashes of my family and my parents’ commendations, I dialed Grandpa Hayes: “Grandpa, Mom… she’s gone. My entire family, laden with honors… now, all tortured to death by the Vance family! Eleanor only asks that you investigate, bring them justice…” The moment I finished, blood trickled from the corner of my mouth onto the urn. The person on the other end of the line paused, stunned. “My daughter… my sweet daughter, how could she be…” After a faint sniffle, Grandpa Hayes’ choked, restrained voice came through: “Officer Lee, go to Metropolis at once. Pick up my granddaughter… and the ashes of my daughter and son-in-law.” “Also, deploy personnel. Conduct a thorough investigation into the Vance family in Metropolis!” A quick response from the other end. Soon after, a dozen military jeeps pulled up downstairs.

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The first thing I did after being reborn was to plant a wiretap on my boyfriend. In my previous life, my sister-in-law, Brittany Parker, had invited me to a bar the night before my brother was due home from a business trip. She said it was for one last wild night before he returned. But when I arrived at the bar, Brittany suddenly started crying, accusing me of having someone rape her. And the man who allegedly assaulted her was my boyfriend, Zachary Dean. I tried to explain, but Zachary, in front of everyone, claimed I’d threatened to kill myself if he didn’t do it. He even said I was jealous of Brittany for getting all my brother’s love. I was condemned by everyone, thrown into prison, and eventually died there, consumed by depression. Only after my death did I learn the truth: it had all been a setup by Brittany and Zachary. They had been secretly having an affair for a long time. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day Brittany invited me to the bar. 1 I had just finished showering and was about to go to bed when my phone suddenly rang. It was Brittany’s voice on the other end: “Skylar, your brother’s coming home tomorrow. Please, come to the bar with me for one last wild night. It’ll be tough to get out once he’s back.” Hearing her words, I was absolutely certain I had been reborn. In my last life, Brittany invited me to the bar, but when I arrived, she was nowhere to be seen. I called her, and she told me to wait in the private room. But she never showed up, and I grew worried, calling her repeatedly. Just as I was about to call the police, Brittany appeared with Mom, Dad, and my brother, who had returned early. She tearfully accused me: “Honey, Skylar, to force me to divorce you, actually got Zachary Dean to rape me!” Before I could explain, my brother kicked me in the stomach. Mom and Dad immediately called the police. The police quickly arrived. I quickly explained: “She’s the one who invited me to the bar! We never even met! How could I possibly arrange for someone to rape her?” “Besides, I’ve been busy with work lately. I haven’t seen Zachary Dean in nearly a week! When would I have had the chance to plan something like this?” To my shock, my most trusted boyfriend stabbed me in the back right then. He dropped to his knees in front of Brittany with a thud, his voice trembling: “I’m so sorry, Brittany. Skylar forced me. She said if I didn’t agree, she’d kill herself. I had no choice but to…” His words rendered my explanations utterly futile. The police took me away. Mom and Dad, humiliated, cursed me: “How could we raise such a shameless daughter, to do something so vicious to your own brother’s wife?” During the online trial, Brittany clutched her face, crying hysterically: “I was already pregnant with Ethan’s child. But because she set me up to be raped, I lost the baby, and the doctors said I might never be able to conceive again.” Overnight, I was doxxed, and a torrent of online hate rained down on me. After I was incarcerated, due to my brother’s “special attention,” I was beaten black and blue. Day and night, I racked my brain trying to understand Zachary and Brittany’s conspiracy, eventually succumbing to depression and dying in prison. Only after my death did I learn that Brittany and Zachary had been high school sweethearts. After breaking up, they reconnected, reignited their old flame, and orchestrated this elaborate scheme. After my death, they usurped our home. Mom and Dad were literally driven to their deaths by anger, and my brother died in a car accident on his way to work. All our family assets fell into the hands of that despicable couple. In this new life, I absolutely wouldn’t let the tragedy repeat. 2 “Tsk, Skylar, speak up!” Brittany’s voice pulled me back to reality. I reined in my hatred, keeping my tone normal: “Okay, I’ll be right there.” “Yay, long live Skylar! Hurry up, New Moon Bar, private room 3601.” Hanging up, I immediately ordered a mini wiretap through an express delivery service. After receiving it, I called my boyfriend: “Zachary, are you busy? Brittany invited me to a bar, but it’s too late. I’m worried it’ll be unsafe for just us two girls. Will you come with me?” Zachary clearly hesitated: “Didn’t you say you were too tired lately and didn’t want to go out?” I feigned anger: “Are you on a date with another woman and don’t want to go with me? Fine, you do you. I’ll find another handsome guy to go with.” Zachary immediately agreed, saying he’d pick me up in half an hour. He was punctual, appearing at my doorstep exactly thirty minutes later. “Such a grown man, and you don’t even know your collar’s messy.” I used the excuse of straightening his collar to stick the wiretap on the back. Zachary kissed my cheek: “Skylar, you’re so good to me.” My stomach churned, but I forced myself to remain composed for the sake of the bigger picture. Just like in my previous life, when we arrived at the bar, Brittany wasn’t in the agreed-upon private room. Zachary nervously swallowed. “Brittany’s probably stuck in traffic.” I calmly opened a beer. “It’s fine, we’ll start without her.” After a while, Zachary grew restless. “Brittany, why isn’t she here yet? Did something happen?” I ignored him, expertly mixing a drink. “No, Skylar, you drink first. I’ll go look for her.” “I’ll go with you. She’s my sister-in-law, after all. If anything really happened, my brother would kill me.” Zachary immediately stopped me. “Please, darling, don’t add to the chaos. You’ve had so much to drink. If something really happened to Brittany, how could I handle all of it?” Without waiting for me to speak, Zachary rushed out. My lips curved upward slightly. Are you a little too eager? After finishing all the drinks I’d mixed, I contentedly picked up my phone. “Hello, 911? There’s a girl being raped at the New Moon Bar.” After reporting it, my left hand trembled with excitement. Knowing the time was right, I sent messages to Mom, Dad, and my brother, who was still out of town. [Brittany’s in trouble at New Moon Bar! Emergency! Get here fast!] The bar she’d chosen was far from my house, but in less than ten minutes, Mom and Dad, with a group of people, arrived in a frantic rush, each carrying some kind of weapon. My brother also messaged me. [Keep me updated. I’m on my way now.] “Where’s Brittany? What happened to Brittany?” Mom’s face was pale, her voice trembling. I feigned fear. “Sister-in-law… Sister-in-law was taken into a private room. I tried to stop them, but I couldn’t. The man even hurt me.” I exposed my bloodied arm. My relatives flinched in horror. “Forget that for now! Which private room was your sister-in-law taken to?” Dad gripped my injured arm, his eyes filled with concern for Brittany. “3601! Hurry, follow me!” 3 I led the group quickly down the corridor. The eyes of the surrounding guests and staff were practically glued to us. “It’s here!” I pointed to the room number on the door. Dad, without a word, kicked the door open. The scene inside left everyone stunned. Zachary and my sister-in-law were entangled, completely naked. When they saw us, their expressions shifted from intoxicated pleasure to panic. Gasp! My sister-in-law shrieked, quickly grabbing clothes to cover herself. “Mom, Dad, why are you here?!” Zachary frantically scrambled up, trying to find clothes to cover himself, only to realize they were all scattered near the private room door. “What in God’s name is going on here?!” Veins bulged on Dad’s face. My sister-in-law’s tears instantly streamed down like broken pearls. “Skylar invited me here for drinks. I thought she was just stressed from work and wanted to relax, but who knew she’d actually get someone to rape me?!” Zachary, at this point, didn’t care that he was naked. He dropped to his knees with a thud. “Uncle, Auntie, I’m so sorry. I was truly forced into this. I had no other choice.” “Skylar said why didn’t her brother love her like he used to after he got married. She was jealous that Brittany got all her brother’s attention.” “She said that as long as Brittany was defiled, her brother would divorce her. If I didn’t listen to her, she’d jump off a building.” “Nonsense!” I slapped Zachary across the face. Dad instinctively pushed me away. “Skylar Hayes, how can you be so shameless? That’s your own brother’s wife!” He raised his hand, ready to strike me. Mom’s eyes welled up again and again. “How could I have given birth to a daughter like you?” My uncle grabbed Dad’s hand before it could swing at me. “Ethan, cool down!” “And you’re still defending her! Look at what she’s done!” Dad’s hands trembled as he pointed at me. Overnight, he seemed to have aged a decade. The private room was surrounded by a crowd of curious onlookers, their chatter at one point drowning out our voices. “This sister-in-law is truly inhuman. To actually arrange for someone to rape her own sister-in-law.” “How can someone so young be so malicious?” “First time I’ve heard of a sister being jealous of her sister-in-law.” … My sister-in-law, seeing everyone on her side, cried even harder. “Dad, Mom, Ethan’s coming back tomorrow. Now that this has happened, how can I face him?” Zachary echoed her. “Uncle, Auntie, Skylar said her brother is coming back tomorrow, and if we didn’t act now, we wouldn’t have another chance. She threatened to jump from the building if I didn’t do it.” I stared at Zachary. “Are you sure I forced you?” Zachary nodded without a hint of guilt. “Yes, you did. I even have the chat logs on my phone.” “What chat logs?” My brother suddenly appeared. Had he flown back? His six-foot-three frame loomed over Zachary’s five-foot-seven, an intimidating presence. Zachary tremblingly handed over his phone. “These are Skylar Hayes’ messages, forcing me to rape Brittany. I swear, if I’m lying even once, let lightning strike me down five times.” The more my brother read, the darker his face became. “No, it’s not like that, listen to me…” Before I could speak, my brother kicked me against the wall. “Skylar Hayes, when did you become so twisted?” My sister-in-law threw herself into my brother’s arms. “Ethan, my body is defiled. Let’s get a divorce.” My brother held her, his heart aching, his eyes on me filled with murderous hatred. As he moved to strike me again, two police officers rushed in. “We received a report of a rape here. Where is the victim?” My sister-in-law immediately flung herself at the police officers’ feet. “Officers, you must do me justice! My vicious sister-in-law, to force me to divorce her brother, actually hired someone to rape me!” Zachary chimed in at the opportune moment. “I confess, but all of this was forced on me by her. I have proof.” My brother handed the chat logs on his phone to the police. After reviewing them, the police went about their routine. “Who reported the crime?” I calmly raised my hand. “I did.” The atmosphere in the room instantly grew eerie. “You… you reported it?” My brother looked at me, perplexed. He couldn’t understand why I would do such a thing. “She must have a guilty conscience! Officers, quickly arrest her!” The police frowned. “Besides these chat logs, do you have any other evidence to prove that this lady instigated it?” Zachary and my sister-in-law froze simultaneously. Zachary stammered, “Do… do I count?” I scoffed. All eyes turned to me. “A perfect example of dogs eating dogs!” “Since you can’t provide concrete evidence, why don’t you listen to mine?” I pulled out my phone from my pocket and opened the audio file. “Everyone, listen closely!”

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I had sunk a quarter of a million dollars into a beauty salon with my college friends. My money, their sweat. But when it came time to split the profits, one of them decided I hadn’t done enough. That I didn’t deserve my share. She wanted to nickel-and-dime me, to force me out. Turn a profit, then cut me loose? Start tallying up every cent? Fine. I stripped that salon bare the very next day. Sent their clients packing. Called the landlord. You want to count? Let’s count. Let’s count it all. 1 The conference call had ended, but the audio feed was still live on their end. I heard them. “Just thinking about transferring her half the money tomorrow makes my blood boil! What for? She barely even steps foot in the place! It’s like we’re working for her! We’re supposed to be partners!” “Brenda, dial it back a bit. We couldn’t find jobs after graduation, remember? Lynn put up all the money, and a 50/50 split was the deal. It was agreed upon.” “She wouldn’t even let me switch out one of our beauty products! Why not? She sits around doing nothing all day, then at the end of the year, she gets seventy-five grand in profit! I’m slaving away, breaking my back, and I only get thirty-seven five! Shelly! Don’t you want to buy her out? We could run this place ourselves.” “Oh no! The call’s still on! Do you think Lynn heard us?” “Hello? Hello? Lynn!” “Shelly, why are you so afraid of her? So what if she heard? She’s coming for her share tomorrow. I’ll tell her to her face.” Shelly and Brenda were my closest friends from college. Back then, they were struggling to find work, and they’d approached me with the idea of opening a beauty salon. I didn’t hesitate. I fully funded the whole operation for them. I found the location, I put up the capital, and I didn’t even interfere with their day-to-day decisions. I even only asked for half the profits. It was, by far, the least profitable of all my investments. But because my partners were my good friends, it was also the one I’d poured the most effort and heart into. In the beginning, they were overflowing with gratitude. Now, over a few extra dollars, they’d turned against me. A chill settled in my chest. The news that I was planning to invest an additional half-million dollars silently retracted itself. 2 I arrived at the salon the next day. “You’re here. Come in.” Brenda’s tone was icy. I followed her into the reception area. It had been a while since I’d last visited. I studied Brenda. When we first met, she’d been so small and thin. Now, she’d filled out significantly, probably pushing 150-155 pounds. She was draped in Gucci, her wrist glittered with a Van Cleef & Arpels Alhambra bracelet, and a Tiffany necklace gleamed at her throat. Her BMW key fob lay casually on the table. She’d clearly been living well these past two years. Shelly, by contrast, looked much the same as she had in college, with very little change. Shelly whispered to me, “Lynn, whatever Brenda says, don’t take it to heart. She’s been a little on edge lately.” “What could be so bad? You look nervous.” Brenda pulled out a wad of cash, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Some people just have it made, huh? Money just drops from the sky while they sit at home.” Thwack! The stack of bills hit the table. It felt less like a payment and more like a humiliating dole. “This year’s profit share. Thirty thousand. Take a look.” I didn’t touch it, just flicked my gaze over the pile. “That’s not the figure we discussed yesterday, Brenda. After rent, utilities, and salaries, the salon profited over one hundred and fifty thousand this year. My share should be at least seventy-five thousand.” “Lynn, you make money way too easily. You haven’t even met a single client, and you just walk away with half our profits! While we’re here, bowing and scraping, our hands practically raw from all the scrubbing, and we only get half to split between Shelly and me! It’s not fair. I want to recalculate the numbers!” I glanced at Shelly, who remained silent. “Do you feel the same way?” “I… I don’t think it’s unfair… It’s just… Brenda, please stop. Lynn’s the one who invested everything into this place.” “Look at you, no backbone!” Brenda stood up abruptly, pulling out a contract. “This is my new profit distribution. From now on, it’s 30/30/30 for the three of us, and the remaining 10% goes back into the business for development.” “Development, you say? How do you plan to develop?” “We’ll run ad campaigns, attract new clients, offer promotional deals.” I propped my chin in my hand. “And then…?” “Then the salon will grow, it’ll be even better! I’ve been wanting to offer a $30 express facial for ages! We need an online presence; we need to hire influencers for marketing. Doesn’t all that cost money?” “Do you realize that, given your location and the high-end decor, your clientele are wealthy? Do you honestly think they’d be interested in discounts? They pay hundreds, even a grand, for a single facial. Do you think they’d want to be seen alongside clients paying thirty dollars?” She was silent. “You drafted this new contract today because you think I haven’t done anything, haven’t you? Have you ever stopped to consider how, since the day you opened, you haven’t handed out a single flyer? How did all these clients find you?” “Oh, please.” Brenda scoffed. “Don’t act like this place can’t function without you.” “This salon was my idea! I found the location! I brought in the clients! Even the exclusive skincare lines you use were arranged by me! You think I’ve done nothing? You haven’t seen the private connections I’ve cultivated, the favors I’ve called in! Honestly, the goodwill and introductions I make every quarter are worth more than that paltry sum! My seventy-five thousand dollars, not a penny less.” My voice rose, each word sharper than the last. “Now, you’re trying to bite the hand that feeds you, all for a few petty gains?” “Okay, Lynn, don’t get upset. I’ll go get the money now!” Shelly started to rise. “Hold on! Who said you could get the money!” Brenda’s voice shot out, stopping her. “Don’t make yourself sound so indispensable. You said it yourself, it was ‘private.’ How am I supposed to know what you did privately? You say you brought in the clients? I say they came because my work is impeccable! Shelly and I earned this money with our own hands, every single dollar! Why should we be grateful to you? We’re all business people here. I’m laying it all out: either you agree to the new profit distribution, or you get out!” Brenda was practically spitting fire. Shelly was wringing her hands, on the verge of tears. “Stop it, Brenda!” Brenda ignored her completely, pointing a finger at me. “How much did you invest in this salon, initially?” “A quarter of a million.” “Next week, come sign the agreement. I’ll give you a quarter of a million dollars, not a cent less. You’re out.” “Brenda! Don’t be ridiculous!” Shelly cried. “Lynn, she’s just kidding.” “Shelly, what’s wrong with you? What’s the difference between this and working for her?” Brenda’s eyes drilled into mine, as if we were sworn enemies. “Friendship? Please. She probably just saw us as two cheap pawns to exploit.” “Is that what you think too, Shelly?” Shelly froze, unable to answer. Suddenly, a wave of weariness washed over me. I had so few genuine friends, and I treasured them. Yet, here they were, turning on me over a few measly dollars. “Fine. I’ll be back next week to sign the papers.” I picked up my bag and left, Shelly’s desperate cries echoing behind me. 3 Back home, the anger simmered, then boiled. How dare they? My money, and they just wanted me out? Many of the salon’s sofas and decorative pieces were high-end designer items, things I’d quietly brought over from my own home. I wasn’t about to let them have them. One phone call to a moving company. “Lynn, what is the meaning of this! You’re having the sofas moved out! Where will the clients sit?” You’re making me divest, aren’t you? These are my things. I’m allowed to take them! If you want them, I can sell them to you for thirty-seven thousand! “Thirty-seven grand for sofas? Who are you kidding?” They’re Hermès, darling. One of my throw pillows alone is twelve hundred dollars. You stained one once, remember? I didn’t charge you for it, out of friendship. Oh, and my diffusers, my coffee table, my rugs, and my Swarovski crystal chandelier. Be careful with that one. I video-called the moving company, directing them as they carefully packed and moved every single item, leaving nothing behind. In an instant, the salon looked significantly larger, and incredibly empty. “Why are you moving today? Are you still open for facials?” A client happened to walk in. Shelly immediately tried to stop her. I recognized the voice – it was Aunt Carol, one of my mom’s best friends. I spoke into the video call. “Aunt Carol! I’m pulling out of this place. We’re moving things out right now.” “What! You’re not investing anymore? Oh… in that case…” Aunt Carol backed away, still talking, then turned and scurried out. “She’s out, but our aestheticians are still here! The results are the same! Don’t go, Aunt Carol!” Brenda lunged forward to grab Aunt Carol, but she was too fast. Brenda was furious, shouting at the video screen. “I hated your tacky stuff anyway! Get it all out! Your taste was dragging down the whole salon’s image!” “Don’t think for a second this place will be empty without you! I’m an artist! My skills speak for themselves! Clients will flock to me!” “Right, right… impressive, impressive.” I replied calmly from my end of the video call. My feigned indifference sent her into a rage. But I wasn’t done. The salon’s skincare products. At first, they’d wanted to cut corners, using ordinary, cheap salon brands. I’d put my foot down, insisting we switch to ODEA, a luxury brand favored by the elite. This brand didn’t even offer a professional line for salons in the country, but my cousin, Caleb, happened to be the regional head for North America. He’d made an exception for me. They had complained about the cost, thinking I was wasting money, and had initially resisted. But once I fronted the costs, they’d tasted the sweet success. It was also the main reason many of the city’s high-society women chose our salon. Now, if I wasn’t important anymore, I called my cousin. “My old beauty salon? No need to supply them anymore.” 4 “Lynn, are you still mad at Brenda? She’s just a little self-centered, but her heart’s not bad.” Shelly had called me. I’d ignored her calls several times, but this morning, half-asleep, I’d accidentally answered. “Didn’t you two want me out?” “I definitely didn’t want you out. But you know Brenda’s personality. If I’d sided with you, she’d feel like the whole world was against her.” “You really think things through. So tell me, why did she suddenly become unhappy with the profit split? It’s been three years. If she was unhappy, she would have said so in the first year.” “She’s dating someone.” Brenda had a new boyfriend. I heard he was a trust fund kid whose family happened to be in the beauty product business. The beauty products I’d refused to use? His family produced them. Brenda had started giving me attitude the moment I rejected his brand. “I refused to use that product because it was sketchy, unregistered, and unsafe! It would have ruined our reputation! And ODEA was our salon’s main selling point! We absolutely couldn’t switch!” “I know, I agree with you. But Brenda’s a total lovesick fool. She thinks you were deliberately trying to spite her. You’re the bigger person, don’t hold a grudge against her.” “I’m not holding a grudge. I just feel betrayed.” … “Shelly! Who are you talking to?!” The voice on the other end of the line changed instantly. “Heh, so it’s you, Lynn! You’re so despicable! You deliberately turned away our clients, didn’t you?” “If clients don’t want to come, should I hold a knife to their throats?” Playing passive-aggressive games? Two can play that game. “You don’t seriously think I can’t survive without your products, without your clients, do you? Sorry to burst your bubble! My business is thriving right now! My boyfriend’s products are just as good!” … I couldn’t be bothered to listen to her bragging. I hung up. The next second, I dialed a friend. “I’ve pulled out of the beauty salon. Hike up the rent on them!” 5 For the past few days, Brenda had been trying to spite me, her social media feed flooded with videos of clients getting facials. Every single client who walked in, she’d post a video, as if declaring war on me. In the videos, Brenda would direct Shelly as she gave clients facials, while Brenda herself, with her chest practically exposed, would introduce her “new” products. “Our new line of products! New clients get 30% off~ Top up your account for more discounts!” She also started posting discount links on various platforms, slashing a $3,999 skincare package down to $999. Several friends from my social circle saw the posts and messaged me, asking if I was planning to go mainstream. I didn’t waste words. I posted a business update. Accompanied by a photo of my entire wall of designer handbags. “Just got kicked out of a beauty salon by a friend recently. Any projects out there looking for an investor? I’ll put up the capital, you put in the work. I only ask for half the profits!” Within minutes, the comments section exploded. “Only half the profits! You’re an angel investor! I need to think about what I can do, right now!” “Interested in luxury resale, big sis? Partner with me! Pretty please!” “Big sis! I’m in beauty too! Heard you pulled out of your salon! Come to our place, the biggest one in Beacon Hill!” Brenda saw all these messages. Like a cornered animal, she immediately posted three updates in a row. “Women need to be independent! Self-reliant!” She was losing it. 6 The day of the contract signing, there was an extra person: Brenda’s boyfriend. A tall, gaunt man, his clothes seemed to hang loosely on his frame. Brenda was known for being shallow in college, so this must be true love, I thought. Before Brenda could even open her mouth, the lanky guy spoke. “We called you here today to sign the divestment agreement, but we’ve changed our minds. We want you to continue investing. But I’ll be managing the operations, and we’ll use my products. Brenda and I will split half, and you and Shelly will split the other half.” “So, what? I won’t even get 25% now?” “You don’t do any work anyway. Getting 25% is already generous!” “Excuse me, and who are you?” This lanky guy had absolutely no manners. Brenda immediately put her hands on her hips, blocking him. “This is my boyfriend, Chad! He speaks for me!” I couldn’t be bothered with either of them. “I came here today for one purpose: to get my money back. Two hundred and fifty thousand dollars!” Shelly spoke up, hesitant. “We really don’t have that much… actually, we do have it, but the landlord suddenly raised the rent recently, and Brenda, she…” “Hey! Why are you telling her that! That’s my business!” I looked on, intrigued. They were hiding something from me. “So, I came here today, and you’re telling me you don’t have the money?” Brenda and Chad said nothing. Shelly finally spoke again: “I think we should just stick to the original agreement. Lynn gets half! The three of us split the other half!” “No way!” Brenda, Chad, and I all said it at the same time. Honestly, whether I got 25% or 50% didn’t matter to me. More than money, I valued relationships. What truly crushed me was that I’d considered them friends, and they’d treated me like a tool. “Don’t be like this, Brenda! We used to be the best of friends.” Shelly pulled at Brenda, then at me. “Lynn, how about you stay, and I’ll give you my share? You can just pay me a salary, eight thousand a month! Even five thousand! Couldn’t we just go back to how things were?” I looked at Shelly. Maybe not everything beautiful had completely crumbled. Then, another idea sparked within me. “If we can’t agree, let’s try a different negotiation. I’ll pay you, and you get out!” I pointed at Brenda. “I’ll give you thirty thousand dollars. Consider it compensation for your hard work all these years. You didn’t invest any money upfront. How does that sound?” “Thirty thousand? You think that’s enough to get rid of me?” “You can’t come up with the money, and you won’t accept my proposal. So my only option is to sue. But given that I funded this salon from the start, you’d likely be forced out without a single cent.” “You!” Brenda was so enraged she couldn’t speak. Chad pulled her aside. They whispered a few words. Brenda kissed Chad on the cheek. “It’s just a quarter of a million, right? I don’t have it! But my man does!” Chad, right there in front of me, transferred $250,000 to my account. I didn’t waste any time. I tore up the old contract on the spot. “You’re so hot, honey!” “Baby, I really broke the bank for this. You can see how much I care, right?” Chad looked as though he’d just sealed a momentous deal. “This salon is mine now. And your friend, Shelly, is it? You two will have to iron out your shareholder agreement separately. From now on, it’ll be…” They were already planning Shelly’s future for her. But Shelly, finally, couldn’t hold back. “I’m out! I quit!” “Shelly? Why are you quitting now? This is between her and me! I’d still give you shares, just a bit less. But my boyfriend’s family makes skincare products! Stick with me, we’ll make a fortune!” “Brenda, it’s not about the money! My conscience tells me what you’re doing is wrong!” Shelly took out her phone and transferred $20,000 to me. “Brenda doesn’t understand, but I do. You initially gave us a quarter of a million. Even if you left, you should have gotten at least three hundred thousand back. But I only have this much. More than making money, I don’t want to lose you as a friend.” “You! Are you stupid, Shelly! She’s so rich, why are you giving her money?” I looked at Shelly. She truly was the same as she was in college. I hoped, this time, I wasn’t mistaken about her. I declined her transfer, and immediately transferred $600,000 back to Shelly. “Lynn? What is this?” “You want to open a new salon with me? We’ll use the same exclusive products as before. After all costs, we split the profits 50/50.” “What?! You have money?! Why did you?! You… you…” “You, you, you, I, I, I? What’s wrong, did dating make you stutter? How I choose to invest is none of your business!” I shot back. Shelly stood there, stunned. “You really trust me?” “I do. At least now I’ve seen clearly who my true friend is!” “You two just wait! Running a beauty salon is ultimately a small-time business! My husband and I are going to conquer the entire beauty market! From now on, all beauty salons will use my products! And we won’t supply yours!” Still dreaming, I thought. Her “shady, unregulated product” dominating the beauty market? Utterly ridiculous!

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Stepping back into the familiar operating room, I knew Dr. James Carter was about to make a fatal error, yet I chose to watch, cold and detached. In my past life, it was James’s mistake that left the patient teetering on the brink of death. I rushed to the table and saved the patient, whose chest lay open. But afterwards, my wife, Katherine Hayes, fabricated evidence and sent me to prison. I confronted her, incredulous, but she merely looked contrite and said, “James is an international colleague; he can’t be implicated! Once this blows over, our lives will go back to normal.” Ultimately, I was killed by the patient’s family, reborn consumed by hatred. This time, I wanted to see how Katherine Hayes would handle it! But then, she suddenly turned to me, her voice trembling yet firm: “Daniel Thorne! The patient’s condition is critical! James can’t control it! You take over!” … 1 “Don’t you understand? The patient is fading fast!” Katherine’s voice abruptly rose, her eyes wide with terror. “Please, darling… this surgery is a turning point in my career. It can’t go wrong!” She clutched my hand tightly, her tone shifting from command to desperate plea. On the operating table, the patient’s chest lay wide open, blood gushing out. The monitor’s readings plummeted, life draining away. “You’re the most skilled surgeon in the entire hospital! Only you can salvage this!” I shook off her hand, a cold sneer playing on my lips. “I’m just an assistant. I don’t know James’s specific technique. And with millions of people watching nationwide, I’m not capable of stepping in at the last minute!” Katherine’s eyes instantly filled with panic. “Didn’t James claim he was experienced?” “Or are you saying you put him in charge, knowing he wasn’t competent, to boost your reputation, playing with a patient’s life?” Katherine’s face turned stark white. “Now is not the time for assigning blame!” her voice trembled. “The patient’s chest is already open. The family is waiting outside…” “This surgery is a key publicity event for the hospital. It affects the future of the entire department!” James stood by, flustered, constantly glancing at Katherine. I remembered the past life at this very moment. I had stepped in, saved the patient’s life, but James’s mistake had left the patient paralyzed. When the family stormed the hospital, Katherine, tears streaming, had handed me a confession: “Daniel, for our future…” I, naive, signed that life-destroying document. My license was revoked, I was subjected to national online slander, the hospital cast me aside like trash, Katherine filed for divorce and took all our assets. Most tragically, the paralyzed patient’s family found me: “You incompetent doctor, you ruined my son! I want your life!” Before I died, I learned my father had a heart attack from the shock and passed away, while Katherine and her lover gained fame and fortune. Back in reality, Katherine was still pleading: “Darling, for the sake of our marriage…” James had caused too much trouble. Even she found it hard to escape responsibility. I smirked inwardly: You reap what you sow. I stepped back, yielding my position in front of the operating table. The patient’s vital signs plummeted. James stood by, helpless, muttering “Damn it.” Ultimately, the patient died on the operating table. Katherine’s face was ashen. Vice President Davis walked into the operating room, his gaze glacial: “Chief Hayes, what happened?” Katherine pulled off her gloves, feigning composure: “The patient suffered unforeseen complications, leading to…” Heart-wrenching cries echoed from the corridor. The patient’s family had received the tragic news. “Ah! You butchers killed my father!” A young girl was restrained by security at the door. James produced a folded paper: “This is standard operating procedure. I followed the protocol precisely.” Davis took the document, his brows furrowed: “A resident as lead surgeon? This surgery shouldn’t have been your responsibility.” “James is very experienced. I trust him completely.” Katherine straightened her back. “Dr. Carter, please explain the cause of death.” Davis turned to James. James bit his lip: “The situation was complex after opening the chest, but within controllable limits.” “Specifically, what caused the death?” “It might be… his pre-existing heart condition.” Dr. Evans, the anesthesiologist, scoffed: “Pre-operative assessments showed the patient’s cardiac function was normal, perfectly sufficient for the surgery.” “What vessel did you sever?” Davis pressed. James’s forehead beaded with sweat: “A routine incision…” “State its specific name.” James’s eyes darted: “I… I need to check the records.” Katherine attempted to interject: “This is a technical issue. We’ll discuss it later.” Davis remained unmoved: “As lead surgeon, the most basic anatomical structures should be ingrained in your mind.” James retreated, hiding behind Katherine. The atmosphere in the operating room solidified. Nurses lowered their heads, organizing instruments, their eyes filled with disdain. “I saw him sever a branch of the coronary artery, completely against protocol,” a junior doctor whispered. “I heard Chief Hayes specifically authorized him to lead, even knowing his skill wasn’t up to par…” “It’s just leveraging his international status to boost the department’s global exchange points. Who knew it would lead to reckless disregard for human life?” Katherine scanned her surroundings. Her colleagues, who usually flocked to her, now deliberately kept their distance. Only James cowered behind her, like a frightened child. She anxiously searched for Daniel Thorne. I stood in the corner, watching everything with an impassive face. Katherine’s gaze locked onto me, her expression complex, a mix of plea and command. Step forward. Take responsibility. she mouthed. I ignored Katherine, exiting the operating room through a side door. Walking out the main hospital entrance, my phone vibrated. A news alert popped up: “Major Medical Malpractice Incident at City General Hospital; Patient Dies on Operating Table.” I immediately dialed my private banker, Ms. Lee. “Ms. Lee, I need to freeze all assets, including joint accounts and property shares.” “Dr. Thorne, this is a large transaction. It requires…” “Execute it immediately. Emergency situation.” My voice was cold and firm. “Transfer all liquid funds to my father’s independent account.” Then I contacted the only person from my past life who had believed me. My phone rang again. It was Katherine. “Darling, where are you?” Her voice was clearly tearful. “You have to come back and help me! You’re the only one who can save me! The patient’s family is causing a huge scene. The hospital wants answers from me…” The hospital corridor was eerily quiet. I turned the corner and saw Katherine leaning against the wall, her eyes red and swollen, her fingers tightly clutching a file, knuckles white. “Darling, you’re finally here.” I nodded, subtly touching the button camera concealed in my chest pocket, confirming it was recording. “Katherine, what’s so urgent?” Katherine pulled me into a deserted small conference room, locking the door behind us. “The situation is worse than we thought.” Her voice was trembling uncontrollably as she pulled a document from the file. “Darling, help me. Sign this, saying it was your operational error, and this whole thing can be settled.” I stared at the cover of the document. “Medical Malpractice Confession Agreement” stood out in bold letters. “Katherine, you want me to be your scapegoat?” “It’s not like that, darling.” Katherine squeezed my hand. “I promise I’ll get the best lawyers, and I’ll get a letter of understanding from the patient’s family. You won’t be in any trouble.” She embraced me, her voice softening. “Darling, I know this is asking a lot! But I swear, once this is over, I’ll compensate you tenfold. We’ll have a child and live a good life together.” I picked up the document, flipping through it, saying nothing. Katherine saw I didn’t immediately agree, and her eyes quickly welled up with tears. “Darling, please, only you can save me now!” I paused, then picked up the pen and signed my name on the confession. Katherine immediately breathed a sigh of relief. The tears in her eyes quickly vanished. She neatly put away the document, lightly touching my cheek. “Daniel Thorne, you should rest now. You’ve been through too much these past few days.” With that, she turned and left the room without a second glance. I watched her retreating back, a cold sneer forming in my heart. Katherine Hayes, this time, things won’t go as you wish! Back at home, I took off my coat and hung it up. The living room lights were dim. From the second-floor bedroom, I heard the sound of water and muffled laughter. I frowned, treading lightly upstairs. The moment I pushed open the bedroom door, my breath hitched. Dr. James Carter, the man, was standing there, wearing my wedding suit, adjusting his tie in the mirror. That suit, which I had cherished in my closet, had once been a symbol of my happiness. “Oh, hi!” James turned, a clumsy surprise on his face. “Chinese doctor, you’re back earlier than expected.” Footsteps pounded on the stairs. Katherine frantically appeared in the doorway. “Daniel Thorne, you’re back.” Her eyes darted around, her body instinctively positioning itself between James and me, like a shield. “James needs a safe place to stay lately. The hospital… you know, with what happened, he needs to cooperate with the investigation.” I raised an eyebrow. “So, you invited him to live in our home?” Katherine’s fingers unconsciously twisted together, her gaze briefly flickering away. “He wants a home in America.” Her voice lowered, and she tilted her head slightly to avoid my gaze. “I promised to help him.” With that, she quickly looked up again. I felt a wave of visceral nausea. The familiar feeling of betrayal washed over me again. “What do you mean?” James smugly pulled a document from his suit’s inner pocket and handed it to me. “Dr. Thorne, this is my home now.” I took the document. The property deed indeed listed this address and James’s name. I looked at Katherine, incredulous. “This is the house my parents bought for us as our marital home.” Katherine stepped closer, her hand gently resting on my arm, her eyes filled with feigned apology. “Darling, I know this is sudden for you, but James really needs help. Didn’t you always say we should be compassionate?” Her voice was soft, yet there was no hint of retracting her decision. “Darling, you said you loved me. Truly loving someone means supporting all her decisions.” I subtly reached into my pocket, confirming the recording device was active. Seeing my silence, Katherine moved closer and linked her arm through mine, her voice tinged with a false intimacy. “Daniel, rest assured, you’ve done so much for me. My husband will always be you. That will never change.” Her eyes glittered with self-satisfied confidence. I nodded impassively, feigning acceptance of the reality. The master bedroom had been completely transformed. My belongings were all gone. In their place were James’s luxury items. Even our wedding photo had vanished, replaced by a picture of James and Katherine. Seeing a few pieces of lingerie scattered on the bed and the trash can in the corner overflowing with used tissues, my heart still ached, imperceptibly. I walked out to the yard. In the corner, near the trash can, piles of my clothes, books, and personal effects were strewn. Katherine rushed after me. “Daniel, I didn’t know. James did all this on his own.” “He’s an international colleague, not very familiar with our customs…” I crouched down. From the pile of trash, I picked up a broken music box. It was my mother’s most cherished possession, the only memento left to her by my grandfather. The delicate wooden casing was completely shattered, its internal springs and gears scattered on the ground. My heart felt as if it were being pierced by countless tiny needles. Katherine’s eyes began to redden. “I’m sorry. I can have James put your things back…” I shook my head, forcing myself to remain calm. She instantly relaxed. James swaggered over, apologizing with an exaggerated tone. “Dr. Thorne, I’ve never done this kind of work before. If it’s not done well, I’m sure you won’t mind!” “Look at this pathetic little thing.” James snatched the broken music box contemptuously. “This cheap piece of junk. Only a loser like you would treasure it!” “No wonder your mom died early. She probably couldn’t stand a pauper son like you. Good riddance!” He laughed coldly, then threw the music box to the ground, heavily stomping on it, grinding it a few times. “This is where it belongs—with the trash.” The accumulated grief and humiliation from both my past and present lives erupted at this moment. “You’re dead!” My fist swung out uncontrollably. James crumpled to the ground, blood gushing from his nose. I lunged at him, punching again and again, pouring all my hatred into every blow! “Ah! Help! Someone, help!” Katherine shrieked, her voice shrill, frantically dialing her phone. In less than ten minutes, several burly bodyguards stormed into the yard. They roughly pulled me off James. Katherine’s voice sharpened: “Daniel Thorne, did I give you too much leeway? How dare you hit James!” “Teach him a lesson! A harsh one!” The bodyguards immediately restrained me, punches and kicks raining down. Katherine stood coldly to the side. My wife, who used to cry tears of concern if I even scraped a finger, now watched as if a stray dog were being beaten. James wiped the blood from his mouth and slowly walked over to me. He brutally kicked my ribs. Then, deliberately, he ground his foot onto my hand. Crunch! I heard the sound of my own finger bones shattering. “Katherine Hayes! James Carter!” I gritted their names through my teeth. “Throw him in the cold storage. Let him cool down.” Katherine’s voice was icy as she gave the order, then she turned to James, her face instantly filled with concern. “Darling, are you alright? Come, let me help you get some medicine.” “Katie, it’s just a scratch. It’s nothing.” James leaned weakly on Katherine’s shoulder, a mocking smirk on his face as he looked at me. The bodyguards dragged me like a dead dog and tossed me into the cold storage. My fingers, broken, were useless. My whole body ached with intense pain. The voice recorder in my chest pocket was still intact. I endured the searing pain and activated the recorder. “I, Daniel Thorne, am currently being illegally imprisoned in this cold storage by my wife Katherine Hayes and her lover James Carter. I have sustained multiple severe injuries, including fractured fingers on my right hand…”

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1 Because my wife refused to accompany a business partner for drinks, I put her in the hospital. I did it because, in my previous life, trying to shield her from the endless toasts, I’d ended up passed out cold. The next day, I woke to find myself branded a monster—a drunk who’d abused his own daughter and driven her to her death by suicide. Before she jumped, my daughter left a suicide note, claiming she couldn’t bear my long-term abuse. But I’d always cherished her, loved her more than life itself. I would never abuse her, especially not in a drunken rage, let alone systematically! I fought to prove my innocence, but the surveillance footage showed me abusing my daughter! My wife, who had always claimed to love me, publicly exposed me, branding me a twisted sadist who regularly beat both her and our daughter. My mother, sobbing, clutched my daughter’s lifeless body and cursed me: “You beast! How could you lay a hand on your own flesh and blood? I don’t have a son like you!” My father, overwhelmed by fury, suffered a heart attack and died on the spot. I was speechless, left to rot in jail, and eventually, I was beaten to death by angry inmates. Then, I opened my eyes again. I was back on the night my wife pleaded with me to drink in her place. … “Darling, my stomach isn’t feeling well. Could you drink for me?” Susan Miller’s eyes were wide with a pitiful plea, making Mr. Thompson, the business partner, frown in displeasure. “Ms. Miller, bringing someone else to drink on your behalf? That’s not very sincere, is it?” “We’re a team, my husband and I. It’s the same no matter who drinks, right, darling?” In my last life, Susan used the exact same words. And Mr. Thompson, claiming double the drinks for a proxy, had poured me into unconsciousness. That’s how I ended up being framed for drunkenly abusing my daughter. But I’ve always held my liquor well. Drunk, I just pass out. I’ve never been a belligerent drunk. Besides, I have only one daughter. I cherished her, afraid even a harsh word would hurt her. How could I abuse her?! Yet, when the crowd was whipped into a frenzy, Susan had cried, exposing bruises all over her body, accusing me of being a sadistic brute who had secretly abused her and our daughter for years. She even produced surveillance footage, inciting everyone to curse my name. Remembering the injustice and my miserable death in the previous life, I grabbed a bottle and slammed it, hard, into Susan Miller. “Useless piece of trash! Mr. Thompson offering you a drink is a compliment! Who are you to pretend to be so pure?!” “Ah!” The bottle shattered against her head. Everyone gasped, stunned. “Whoa, easy there, buddy! If you don’t wanna drink, don’t drink, but don’t get violent!” I ignored Mr. Thompson and the others. I grabbed more bottles from the table, smashing them, one after another, onto Susan as she cowered, clutching her head. This time, I’d strike first. Let’s see how she frames me now! After Susan was rushed to the hospital, I voluntarily went to the police station to confess. Due to surveillance footage and witnesses like Mr. Thompson, I was detained on the spot. After I was locked up, Mom rushed to see me, her face etched with worry: “Son, you and Susan have always been so loving. What made you suddenly beat her like that? Did something happen?” “If she did something to wrong you, Mom supports you divorcing her, but you can’t lay a hand on her!” I looked at my white-haired mother, asking the question I’d wanted to ask in my previous life: “Mom, do you believe me?” “Of course, I do! You’re my only son, how could I not believe you!” Getting the answer I needed, I breathed a sigh of relief. In my previous life, she had seen the “evidence” and heard Susan’s accusations before she spoke of disowning me. This time, as long as I had enough proof, Mom would definitely be on my side! Thinking this, I squeezed her hand, asking anxiously: “Audrey, how is she?” Mom paused, said Audrey was home asleep, and asked why I was suddenly so tense. I earnestly pleaded with her to protect Audrey, to make sure nothing happened to her. Also, not to tell Dad about this. Mom nodded: “Silly child, even if you didn’t ask, I’d take good care of Audrey! Your dad has a bad heart. Before I came, I told him Audrey missed me. I didn’t dare mention anything else.” My heart felt a great peace. I gave her a few more instructions, then urged her to rush home to be with our daughter. Remembering my daughter’s tragic death in the previous life, my heart ached. Why would the daughter cherished by our entire family be covered in wounds and jump to her death? Had Susan coerced and harmed her? This time, I had to uncover the truth! 2 At four in the morning, Susan Miller rushed to the police station, seeking to bail me out. I heard she had come looking for me the moment she regained consciousness. “Darling, yesterday was my fault. I’ve been so busy with work lately, no time for you and Audrey. It’s normal for you to feel resentful and want to vent. I’ve pushed that collaboration away. From now on, I’ll spend more time with you and Audrey, okay?” Her head and arm were wrapped in bandages, blood seeping through. Yet she spoke softly, her eyes red-rimmed, as if she were truly the one in the wrong. If not for her public defamation of me in my previous life, I almost would have believed her. In my last life, she had deliberately inflicted those wounds on herself, claiming they were the work of me, her “monster” husband. If I let her bail me out, I’d surely be branded a “violent psychopath” again! Thinking this, I coldly refused her. “No need. Hitting you was indeed wrong of me. It’s only right to face punishment for my mistakes. You don’t need to bail me out.” Seeing my unyielding stance, Susan trembled with fury, but no matter what she said, I insisted on staying in detention. Finally, Mom arrived and took her home to recover. As she left, Mom said Audrey had slept soundly all night and had already gone to school this morning. In my last life, my daughter hadn’t gone to school; she had jumped to her death from the rooftop that morning. My heart settled. It seemed I had finally changed the trajectory of my previous life. Audrey wouldn’t jump to her death! After a sleepless day and night, I finally couldn’t hold on any longer and drifted into unconsciousness. At three in the afternoon, I was woken by my daughter’s voice. “Daddy, I came to see you!” My daughter, who had tragically jumped to her death in my previous life, was now alive and vibrant before me. I was so overwhelmed I nearly cried aloud. “Daddy, why are you crying? Mommy said you got locked up because you beat up bad guys to save her.” “Daddy, you’re a big hero! Don’t cry!” My daughter’s words made me pause. Susan, behind her, gave me a subtle wink. “Darling, Audrey kept begging to see you today. She thought you didn’t like her anymore, and that’s why you weren’t picking her up or dropping her off at school.” Mom also came in. “Audrey, now do you believe Grandma and Mommy?” My daughter nodded, her small hand gripping the iron bars, her voice innocent: “Daddy, Audrey made a little red flower to give to you, my big hero!” My eyes stung. I gripped her small hand. Looking at her innocent, adorable face, I suddenly remembered her bruised corpse from my previous life. Many of those were old wounds, clearly from years of beatings. Thinking this, I abruptly pulled up her sleeve. Her smooth, tender arm showed no crisscrossing whip marks. So, what had gone wrong in my previous life? My daughter couldn’t have developed so many old injuries overnight! Thinking this, I turned her around and pulled up her shirt from behind. Still soft and smooth, not a single scar. Perhaps my gaze was too fierce; my daughter looked a little scared. “Daddy, what’s wrong?” “Audrey, has anyone been bullying you lately?” My daughter paused. “No, why?” “Mommy hasn’t hit you, has she? Don’t be scared. This is the police station. Tell the truth, and the police officers will protect you!” My daughter continued to shake her head. “Mommy loves me so much. Why would she hit me?” Susan covered her face and began to cry. “Darling, you actually suspect me of mistreating our daughter? If that were true, why would I tell her all that? I was just afraid she’d know the truth and hate you!” Mom also sighed: “Son, you’re in the wrong here. We’ve seen what Susan is like all these years. You really shouldn’t misunderstand her!” Just then, the guard came in and said visiting hours were over. Susan picked up Audrey and left crying. Mom muttered, sounding exasperated: “Son, you went too far this time! Susan is a good wife. You shouldn’t have beaten her like that over a mere suspicion!” Watching them leave, I was confused. Was everything from my last life just a nightmare I had? Sweat soaked the little red flower in my hand. I lowered my head and looked at it. My heart nearly stopped. My past life wasn’t a dream! It was real! 3 That night, against the walls of my detention cell, I replayed every detail of my previous life. Since my rebirth, I’d asked myself countless times. Why would my daughter, whom I loved to my very core, write such a suicide note accusing me before she died? Why, when I had done nothing wrong, did I wake up branded a monster, reviled by everyone? Why would Susan, who had always loved me, suddenly turn on me, exposing her wounds and accusing me of being a twisted abuser? One by one, the unsolved mysteries gave me a pounding headache. I could only desperately recall every detail of my previous life, trying to catch any clue. Until I clearly saw the little red flower my daughter had given me, all the fog began to lift. Instead of waiting to be crushed, I’d strike first! As soon as dawn broke, I had someone call Susan, telling her I had come to my senses and wanted to be released. I even apologized to her, saying I shouldn’t have hit her that night. Susan sobbed, saying she didn’t blame me, and immediately wrote a letter of understanding, bailing me out. I resumed picking up and dropping off my daughter at school. After seeing her into the school building, I called a private investigator. His efficiency was remarkable. In less than half a day, he had investigated all my questions. Looking at the report on my phone, I was so filled with hatred I nearly crushed the device. Turns out, there were secrets in there I hadn’t even guessed! I spoke in a low voice, giving instructions: “I also need you to do one more thing for me. Make it quick. Absolutely no one must find out!” Two days later, it was my daughter’s birthday. Susan, true to her word, cancelled all her work and hosted a lavish birthday party. Despite the hot weather, she wore a wide-brimmed hat and a long-sleeved gown, basking in everyone’s admiration. My daughter, dressed as a magnificent little princess, thanked everyone for their gifts. Finally, my daughter smiled, took my hand, and happily said: “Thank you, Daddy, for always spoiling me. I have a gift I want to give to Daddy too.” With that, she took my hand, leading me upstairs to see it. She wouldn’t allow anyone else to follow, standing with her hands on her hips, saying it was a gift just for Daddy. Everyone was amused by her innocent, adorable demeanor. I smiled faintly, letting her lead me onto the rooftop. “Daddy, cover your eyes and count down from ten. No peeking~” She tied a black blindfold over my eyes, and I listened as she counted down. When she reached “1,” there was a loud “Thud!” from the yard. It was then I realized my daughter, who had just been standing on the rooftop, was gone. Gasps of horror rose from the yard. When I went down, I saw my daughter lying face down, dead. Her death was as tragic as in my previous life. On the rooftop, another suicide note lay. In the note, just like in the last life, my daughter’s words were blood and tears, accusing me of being an animal of a father. She couldn’t bear my long-term abuse and was terrified of being alone with me, so she no longer wanted to live. Susan rushed to her, clutching my daughter’s bloody corpse, crying hysterically as in my previous life. “Ethan, I thought you only abused me, but you still loved our daughter. But I never imagined you could be such a monster!” With that, she took off her hat. She pulled off the sleeves of her gown, revealing arms and head covered in scars. “You asked why I was so heavily covered, didn’t you? It’s because of these wounds he inflicted!” Everyone gasped. Then, Susan, sobbing uncontrollably, recounted years of my abusive beatings as a twisted sadist. Hearing that I had dared to hit her with a bottle in front of business partners, sending her to the hospital, everyone erupted in fury. Mr. Thompson stepped out of the crowd, slammed his glass, and cursed me. “Ms. Miller asked us to cut you some slack, but I never imagined you were such a demon!” “He beat Ms. Miller in front of us and sent her to the hospital. We all saw it with our own eyes!” “I never imagined this demon not only beats his wife but his daughter too!” Suddenly, everyone started cursing me. Susan cried so hard she almost fainted. “Audrey, it was Mom’s tolerance that killed you!” Mom rushed over, grabbing my hand and yelling: “Son, I don’t believe you’re this kind of person! You’ve always been so kind, since you were a child. Tell me you didn’t do these things!” I impassively pulled my hand free and stated calmly: “I did it.” 4 Everyone exploded. Some called the police, others pulled out their phones to start livestreaming. “The heir to Hayes Enterprises just publicly admitted to years of violently abusing his wife and daughter! His daughter just left a suicide note and jumped to her death!” Instantly, the comments section blew up. [OMG, I thought he was just a worthless good-for-nothing who relied on his wife to secure the company. Turns out he’s also a super-violent murderer!] [His wife is so good, all these years she’s given him a child, secured all sorts of collaborations. How could he have the heart to abuse her so brutally?] [I bet his daughter didn’t jump to her death; she was probably pushed by him! They need a thorough investigation!] [+1! Didn’t they say this beast was alone with his daughter on the rooftop? Maybe he really did push her!] Mom shrieked, protesting these accusations, threatening to sue them for defamation. But Susan set down her daughter’s body and slowly rose. “Our house has rooftop surveillance cameras, and I… I also put a tracker on Audrey.” “Because three years ago, I noticed that whenever he came back from a business trip, Audrey would have new scars. But when I asked her, she said she fell while practicing horseback riding.” “I thought about the abuse Ethan inflicted on me, and I was so afraid Audrey would be treated the same way. So, I gathered my courage and warned him.” Susan’s voice choked as she spoke. “While he was asleep, I held a knife to his throat.” “I told him, if you want to hit someone, hitting me is enough. Don’t lay a hand on our daughter again, or I’ll drag you to hell with me!” “At the time, Ethan was truly scared. He promised he wouldn’t hurt Audrey again, so I let him go.” “But I never imagined he would switch to a method of abuse that I couldn’t detect…” With that, Susan opened the projection screen in the yard and cast the video from her phone onto it. The footage showed me in a car, my face contorted, brutally stabbing my daughter with a fine needle. My daughter wept, pleading softly. “Daddy, I’m in so much pain. Please stop stabbing me…” “Damn it, what a monster!” In the crowd, someone couldn’t hold back any longer, picking up a stone and throwing it at me. I was struck, my head bleeding, but Susan operated her phone again. The scene shifted. The camera moved to the rooftop. My daughter blindfolded me, then counted down to the last second. “Daddy, my gift, is trading this life for your arrest.” She stood on the edge of the rooftop, tears in her eyes, saying softly. With that, she dropped a suicide note and jumped, without looking back. At that moment, Mom could no longer side with me. “You beast! I truly wasted all these years raising you!” She violently threw her phone at my face. A hot stream of blood immediately gushed from my nose. Then, she rushed over and clutched my daughter’s bloody corpse. “Audrey, my sweet granddaughter, it’s the beast I gave birth to who harmed you!” Susan, her voice choked with tears, shrieked at me, heartbroken. “In the detention center, I thought your apology meant you understood your wrong, and I was soft-hearted enough to bail you out.” “But I never imagined you would actually force my daughter to her death! If you had something to vent, take it out on me! Why force my daughter to die?!” I, however, smiled cruelly. “She jumped to her death herself. How can you blame me?” That single sentence enraged everyone. “Monster! A person like you doesn’t deserve to be a father! You should be shot!” Countless bottles and pebbles rained down on me, and some even spat in my face. I was bruised and swollen, covered in blood, yet I laughed even louder. Because only by blowing things up would the truth be seen. “Stop it, everyone! The real killer of Audrey Hayes is not him!” Hearing that voice, I knew. The person I was waiting for had finally arrived. The show was about to begin!

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In my previous life, my wife and I shared forty years, a harmonious, devoted marriage. Our son was dutiful and intelligent, becoming a renowned medical expert both domestically and abroad. Surrounded by grandchildren, my wife and I treated each other with respect, and I lived out my sixty years in blissful contentment. After my death, my soul lingered in the world. To my shock, my seemingly loving wife hadn’t shed a single tear for me. After my cremation, she delayed my burial, instead tossing my urn into a cluttered storage room. My son, renowned for his filial piety, was actually eagerly urging his mother: “Mom, hurry and book the burial plot. Dad’s almost out of time.” Turns out, he wasn’t my biological son. His biannual “overseas assignments” were actually trips to spend time with his real father. And my wife’s annual “sister trips” were, in fact, rendezvous with her lover. They used my money to support another man, and after my death, they begrudged me even a burial plot. The pain was unbearable. When I opened my eyes again, I heard shouts: “Someone fell into the water! Quick, save them!” In my previous life, Jane Evans had, in a fit of pique with David Carter, jumped into the river. At the brink of death, David hesitated. As the son of the Evans family’s housekeeper, I risked my own safety to save Jane and ended up permanently disabled. In gratitude, she became my wife. Reborn, I pushed David Carter forward. This life, I’ll make sure you two get your happy ending. … David Carter, shoved forward by me, his eyes flashed with momentary anger, but he suppressed it, aware of the onlookers. “Mr. Carter, where are you going? Ms. Evans is in the water! Aren’t you going to save her?” Seeing everyone’s gaze fixed on him, I unhesitatingly turned to leave. But he blocked my path again. David stared at me coldly: “Arthur Hayes, you’re her family’s servant. You owe the Evans family a great debt. Now is the time to repay it! Get down there and save her! If anything happens to Jane, the Evans family will never let you go!” In my previous life, David was also present, but my eagerness to save Jane, and his cowardice, gave me the opportunity. I suppressed a cold sneer, feigning difficulty: “Mr. Carter, I was actually looking for you. I can’t swim. You, on the other hand, are the swim team captain. This chance for a heroic rescue should naturally go to you.” Only then did the crowd react. “Oh, it’s Mr. Carter! I heard the Carter and Evans families had an arranged marriage since childhood. Hurry and save her!” “I heard Ms. Evans and Mr. Carter were even a campus celebrity couple in college! Perfect for a heroic rescue!” Whispers rose and fell, and David was caught between a rock and a hard place. I tried to slip away amidst the confusion, but then Jane Evans’s cry for help came from behind me: “Arthur, save me! I know you like me! If you save me, I’ll marry you, okay?!” The crowd’s gaze shifted to me again. David’s eyes were shadowed with malice: “Ha, you’re not actually taking her seriously, are you? Jane’s just arguing with me. But since your young mistress has spoken, aren’t you going to save her?” I turned to look at the woman in the river. That face I had loved for decades, now smooth and youthful, free of wrinkles. But my heart, at the sight of her, was brutally torn. She knew I couldn’t swim, yet she wouldn’t let her lover risk himself. I suppressed the bitterness and feigned difficulty: “Ms. Evans, I can’t swim.” She almost eagerly replied: “Arthur, trust me, emergency services will be here soon. You’ll be fine.” I froze. Her eyes darted away: “I… I’m just guessing.” I instantly understood—she had been reborn too. After two lifetimes, she still wouldn’t let me go! Fury almost consumed my reason. I clenched my fists, feigning reluctance: “Ms. Evans, Mr. Carter is your childhood sweetheart. It wouldn’t be right for me to steal his thunder. Besides, how could I dare like you? You’ve misunderstood.” As the words fell, the scene went silent. Jane Evans almost forgot to struggle, standing stunned in the water. Was it my imagination, or was there a hint of panic in her eyes, besides shock? I turned sharply and left the scene. In my previous life, when Jane fell into the water, I plunged in to save her. A piece of wire scraped my leg. By the time I was rescued, the wound was bone-deep. Even with the doctors’ best efforts, they couldn’t save my right leg. I became a cripple. Jane, in gratitude, became my girlfriend. Two years later, we married. A year into our marriage, our son was born, intelligent and adorable. As our son grew, my responsibilities weighed heavier. Due to my disability, I endured countless stares and cold shoulders. For my wife and son, I worked three jobs a day, starting as a concrete worker, gradually becoming a contractor, and eventually founding a construction company. I never wanted Jane to suffer. I bought her the biggest house, the latest designer bags, and transferred all my company’s earnings to her immediately. Just because she said “pink diamonds are so beautiful,” I traveled across Africa, selected the largest pink diamond, and personally crafted a unique ring for her. On my return journey, I encountered armed robbers. To protect the ring, I nearly lost my life. When my son grew up, I sent him to the most expensive schools, to tutoring classes that cost two thousand an hour. Rain or shine, I personally drove him everywhere. I nurtured him into a celebrated medical expert overseas. When he married, I gave him a hundred million dollars as starting capital for their new home, and two villas valued at two hundred million. A few years later, he had a child, and I began taking care of my grandchild. I did all the chores, big and small, at home. I never let Jane touch housework; I wanted her to always be beautiful and radiant. And out of trust, I entrusted all our savings, bonds, stock funds, and jewelry to her keeping. I dedicated myself to this family, but due to overwork, I collapsed in my office at sixty years old. At my bedside, I was barely clinging to life. My grandson sweetly called “Grandpa” by my hand. My son held my hand, eyes red-rimmed, while Jane turned away, unable to look at me. Surrounded by my children and grandchildren, my marriage harmonious, I lived out my sixty years in happiness. Perhaps my soul lingered too long in the human world. After my death, my soul stayed, unable to pass on. And because of this, I saw that the moment I drew my last breath, my wife turned away, her face utterly expressionless. My son casually wiped away a tear, then nonchalantly told the nurse: “Pull the tubes. Free up the room for others.” My grandson clung to my son: “Daddy, was my acting good? Daddy promised me a reward, don’t go back on your word.” I was stunned. My body was quickly bagged and sent to the funeral home. My wife didn’t notify any of my friends or relatives. She simply posted a brief message on social media: “Old Arthur passed away this morning. He wanted everything kept simple. I hope everyone won’t be too sad.” My son even went back to work on the very day I died. Under the firelight, I watched my body slowly turn to dust, scattering into the air. And the woman waiting in the lobby was buried in her phone, texting, as if the burning inferno behind her had nothing to do with her. “David, he’s dead. I only have you now.” My soul floated before her, watching her flirt and confide in another man. Later, my urn was taken home by her. My son urged: “Mom, hurry and book the burial plot. Dad’s almost out of time. Do you really want to be buried with this man?” Turns out, the son I cherished wasn’t my biological child at all. His annual “official assignments” were just excuses to see his real father. And the travel photos Jane posted on social media all those years were just quick snapshots she took to show me after being intimate with another man. I saw them standing by David Carter’s hospital bed, Jane weeping inconsolably: “David, you’ll get better.” My ashes were still tossed in the storage room, and they were already preparing for another man’s funeral. The day David died, Jane Evans stood before his newly purchased grave, her face mournful: “I owe David so much in this life. After I die, I want to be buried with him.” My son nodded, choking back tears: “Mom, don’t worry. You’ll definitely be with Dad.” Sixty years of my life felt like a cruel joke. The pain was unbearable. Full of resentment, I lunged at the mother and son, but my body became lighter and lighter. When I opened my eyes again, I was here. Heaven had given me another chance. This life, I decided to live for myself! After returning home, I immediately found Mom and told her I wanted to leave the Evans family. Mom looked troubled: “The Evans family has been very good to us. We can’t forget our roots.” I pleaded patiently: “Mom, do you really want to see your son serve as a servant his whole life? Besides, after all these years, we’ve repaid their kindness.” Mom still hesitated: “But, don’t you like Ms. Evans?” All these years, she had witnessed my devotion to Jane, so she naturally knew my feelings. I shook my head bitterly: “Mom, you misunderstood. I don’t like her.” Before my words finished, a soaking wet Jane Evans rushed over, slapping me hard across the face. When she moved to strike again, I caught her wrist and fiercely flung it away. She gritted her teeth: “You dare resist?! Arthur Hayes! Why didn’t you save me?” I took a step back, my face calm: “I can’t swim.” Jane Evans frowned: “Didn’t you say you’d die for me?!” She remembered the vows I’d made in front of her all those years ago, yet she had completely forgotten how she betrayed me. I laughed: “Ms. Evans, how could you take a servant’s teasing words seriously?” Jane Evans froze, her eyes flashing with shock and disbelief. Indeed, the old me wouldn’t have dared to utter a harsh word in front of her. I started to pull Mom away. She suddenly called out to me. “Stop! It’s all your fault David got hurt! If he ends up a cripple, I won’t let you go! Go to the hospital and apologize to the Carter family right now!” Looking at her furious eyes, my heart was desolate. Ten years of unrequited love, forty years of marriage. I loved her to my very bones, never wanting her to suffer. My conscience was clear, yet in her heart, I was merely David’s scapegoat. Not to mention, in my previous life. David, relying on his connections and influence, made me act like a dog and eat dog food, pushed me down a mountain, made me lick their shoes… The Carter family always doted on their only son. Now, asking me to apologize to them was nothing short of sending me to my death. I wanted to drag Mom and escape. But Jane Evans called for people to pin me to the ground. Mom frantically kowtowed: “Ms. Evans, for Arthur’s sake, as he once saved you, please spare his life! I’m begging you!” Jane Evans merely turned her head: “Arthur Hayes, if you don’t want anything to happen to your mother, come with me quietly.” I almost ground my teeth: “Alright, I’ll go with you.” She caught the suppressed hatred in my eyes, and she froze for a moment. Then, she suddenly ripped the good luck charm from my neck. As if in a fit of pique: “It’s useless for someone like you! A worthless life. It’s better for David to use it!” My eyes burned with rage: “Jane Evans, that’s something my father left for me! Give it back!” How could she not know? In my previous life, on the day she gave birth, I carefully tied this amulet around her neck. I told her: “Jane, the year I was born, a Daoist priest said I would face a tribulation. My father crawled three thousand steps to get this amulet for me, telling me it must never leave my side. Now I give it to you, hoping for safe delivery for you and the baby.” But after my death, she burned it along with all my belongings. Hearing this, Jane Evans paused, then, the next second, walked away quickly. … I was thrown onto the hospital corridor floor. Jane Evans whispered in my ear: “Just apologize properly, get the Carter family to forgive you. I can still let you work for the Evans family.” With that, the hospital room door opened, and David’s parents walked out, their faces grim. “You’re that servant?” Mrs. Carter rushed over, kicking me to the ground. “It’s all because of you! My son will be a cripple for the rest of his life! You, a worthless life, what right did you have to make my son save someone?” Several men rushed over, kicking and punching me. I felt as if all my limbs were splitting open with pain. “Enough.” Jane Evans walked over, seemingly unable to bear the sight of my wounds. “Go apologize to David Carter.” Blood streamed from my forehead, my vision a crimson blur. Her icy gaze softened slightly, and she instinctively reached out to wipe away the blood. I dodged, staggering to my feet. “If I apologize, will you let my mother go?” Jane Evans clenched her fist: “As long as David forgives you, I promise your mother will be fine.” I nodded and walked into the hospital room. The people outside immediately locked the door from the outside. An hour later, I walked out again. The moment Jane Evans saw me, her eyes widened: “Arthur! You!” “Mr. Carter has vented his anger. You can let my mom go now.” With that, I collapsed to the ground. My body had multiple bone-deep wounds. My forehead, limbs, torso—almost no undamaged skin. The nurse who came to bandage me couldn’t bear to look. Jane Evans placed a thermos in front of me: “I heard you had a fever before you came. Eat something. I made this chicken soup myself.” How ridiculous. In my previous life, I doted on her so much that I would even remove the seeds from watermelon before feeding it to her. This life, because of David, she actually cooked for me. I turned my head away: “Ms. Evans, you’ve vented your anger. Can I leave now?” Her face instantly changed. She slammed the thermos to the ground. “Arthur Hayes, what kind of tone is that? If you hadn’t abandoned me, David wouldn’t have had to go into the water to save me, and he wouldn’t have been hurt! Don’t you like me? Why did you stand by and watch me die?!” My tone was nonchalant: “How could a lowly servant like me be worthy of liking you? Ms. Evans must have misunderstood.” Seeing my calm expression, Jane Evans felt an inexplicable panic in her heart, as if something was slipping away. She feigned composure, a mocking smile on her face. “Everyone in River City knows you’re my lapdog, Arthur Hayes. Let me tell you straight, I love David. If I hadn’t been angry with him, you wouldn’t even have had the chance to save me!” I wasn’t angry. I just nodded: “Then I wish Ms. Evans and Mr. Carter happiness and many children! Besides, my amulet has already been broken by Mr. Carter. I probably won’t live much longer. You won’t have to worry about me bothering you anymore.” Jane Evans sprang to her feet, her face pale. “How could that be? I just… I just lent it to him to wear. I didn’t think he’d break it.” “It doesn’t matter,” I said calmly, looking at her. “Consider this life repaid to the Evans family.” She stood up frantically. The fear of losing something made her unable to look me in the eye. She could only suppress the anxiety in her heart, sneering: “So what? You’re just a dog of our Evans family. We feed and clothe you and your mother. What part of you doesn’t belong to the Evans family? Even your life belongs to me!” Just then, a nurse’s voice came from outside the door: “Ms. Evans, Mr. Carter says his wound hurts. He wants you to come check on him.” Jane Evans glanced at me nervously. But she saw I was only looking down. My eyes, once full of love, were now cold. That panicked feeling surged again. But then, she remembered how, in her previous life, no matter how she treated me, I loved her without complaint. It was well known that I, Arthur Hayes, was her devoted follower. If she gave me even a little affection, I would willingly give her my leg, even my life. She relaxed: “I’ll go see David. You rest well. I’ll come visit you. Don’t be difficult.” I was kept under watch, only occasionally hearing the nurses gossip. Jane Evans washed David Carter’s feet. Jane Evans went to pray for an amulet for David, kneeling until her knees were raw. Jane Evans personally made breakfast for David every day… All the things I had done for her in the past, she was now doing for David, one by one. I climbed out of bed, vaguely hearing them mention patellar graft surgery. Turns out, Jane Evans was keeping me captive because she wanted to use my patella to save David. Sure enough, that night, Jane Evans came to my room. She was unusually attentive and enthusiastic, even offering to examine my wounds and apply medicine. I coldly pushed her away: “Ms. Evans, is there something you need?” My coldness made her slightly flustered. But she still shook her head. After all, in my previous life, I loved her so much. Besides, it was just one leg. “Arthur, I promise you, the Evans family will take care of you for life. Don’t you like me? I can be your girlfriend, as long as you graft your patella to David Carter.” I laughed through tears. “Jane Evans, have you ever considered how difficult life would be if I became crippled?” She was indifferent: “David is so outstanding; he can’t be disabled. Besides… it’s just one leg, isn’t it? You love me so much, are you unwilling to make even this small sacrifice?” I looked at her, feeling as if decades had passed in an instant, leaving only disgust. All the cold stares I endured in my previous life due to my limp—she had never felt a hint of heartache over them. After a long pause, I nodded: “Alright, but first, I need to see my mother.” Jane Evans happily lunged into my arms: “Arthur, I know you love me most.” … The surgery was scheduled for a week later. Jane Evans called me every day, urging me to prepare. During this time, I visited the hospital once to get medicine for Mom, and inadvertently ran into Jane Evans, who was there with David for his surgery rehab. David took a grape from Jane’s hand, asking, “Aren’t you afraid he’ll run?” Jane Evans chuckled, “Don’t worry. His heart is mine; how could he run? It’s just one leg. Even if I asked him to give his life for you, he wouldn’t refuse.” David scoffed, “You wouldn’t actually agree to be his girlfriend, would you? That kind of lowlife, don’t you find him disgusting?” Jane Evans paused, as if making up her mind. “David, you’re the only one I love. I never want to be apart from you again. He and I are just putting on a show.” “Don’t worry, he’s so obedient, he’ll give you his patella willingly.” I lowered my eyes and chuckled. My heart no longer stirred. My phone suddenly received a message: “Boss Hayes, your flight is booked. Take a look.” … In a flash, the week was over. Early that morning, Jane Evans called me in a rush. “Arthur, why aren’t you here yet? The surgery’s about to start! If you’re late and delay the surgery, I won’t forgive you.” Even now, she was confident I would undergo this surgery. I looked at the plane about to take off and chuckled, “Sorry, Jane Evans. This life, you’ll probably still have to marry a cripple.” The line went suddenly silent. The next second, Jane Evans’s hysterical scream came through. “Arthur, did you… did you get reborn too…?” Before she could finish, I hung up. The plane lifted its nose, soaring into the clouds. She didn’t know that in this past week, I had used my memories from my previous life to pave my escape route. This thing called love, I’d tasted it before. It wasn’t good. I didn’t want it anymore. I covered Mom with a blanket beside me, my gaze fixed on the blue sky. This life, I would live for myself.

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At the club, as I negotiated a business deal with a client, my wife burst in, accompanied by her male assistant, demanding our private room. She was clearly intoxicated, leaning on the assistant, their gestures oozing intimacy. But before I could even question her, she accused me of stalking her, claiming the assistant was merely a subordinate, and berating me for being petty and misunderstanding them. My client tried to defend me, only to be cursed at by her and the assistant, nearly ruining a lucrative deal. I said no more, immediately proposing a divorce. That’s when my wife’s entire family panicked.

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Chad, the hottest guy in school, had snared Olivia, the heiress to the Calloway fortune. He’d plastered their engagement announcement all over the school group chat, but made a point of explicitly banning me from the celebration. “Tomorrow, at the engagement party, I’ll be formally introduced to Olivia’s Grand-Uncle. So, anyone with ill intentions should just stay home, save themselves the envy.” The words felt like a match dropped into a pool of gasoline. My blood boiled. A while back, someone had snapped a pic of me kissing Olivia’s forehead, calling her “sweetheart.” Chad twisted it, labeled me a homewrecker, and led a two-year bullying campaign against me. I clenched my jaw, typing back: “Even if you invited me, I’d be tied up. One of my own juniors is getting engaged, and I need to be there to give my blessing.” The next day, I was at the party, digging into a plate, when they swarmed me, beating me senseless. “You got a death wish? Crashing an engagement party to steal the bride?” They brutally murdered Muffin, my beloved cat, then shattered my hands. What followed was a torment of unspeakable degradation, as they bound me and shoved me into a dog cage. Later, Dustin knelt for hours, holding the traditional blessing tea, until his knees gave out. But the Patriarch’s seat remained conspicuously empty. He stubbornly refused to get up, sobbing and begging for the Patriarch to appear and accept his offering. Oh, sorry. My hands are broken. This tea, I won’t be drinking. … Outside, Olivia Calloway was a formidable heiress, cool and commanding. But here, kneeling before me, she was a docile kitten. “My fiancé, Dustin, is truly dutiful and respectful. I’ve brought him today for you to meet, Grand-Uncle, so he can pay his respects. Once he officially joins the Calloway family, he and I will honor you together.” Dutiful and respectful? The image of Dustin’s ugly face in the group chat flashed in my mind, and I couldn’t help but frown. Mr. Calloway, Olivia’s grandfather, his hair streaked with grey, mistook my expression for displeasure at his presumption. He immediately dropped to his knees, frantic. “While the younger generation is quite pleased with the prospective groom, if you, Uncle Ethan, don’t give your blessing, he won’t be worthy of joining the Calloway name.” The Calloway dynasty, a multi-generational legacy, upheld strict traditions. Though young, I held the highest lineage, automatically overseeing all family resources and power. Outside, Mr. Calloway was a revered figure, but within these walls, he knelt to me, never daring to overstep. I gave a cold smile, gesturing for him to rise. “It’s fine. Proceed as planned.” He wouldn’t let me attend the engagement party? I was curious to see how Dustin would walk through the Calloway gates. After everyone respectfully withdrew, my phone pinged with a message. The contact name read: “Victoria Vance, The Iron Lady.” “Handsome, when are we going public? If you don’t give me a title soon, I might just have to crash the party myself.” The Big Four families governed the East Coast elite, and Victoria Vance was the formidable President overseeing all of them, including the Calloways. She was known as the ‘Ice Queen’ to most, feared by all, but when she teased, she was nauseatingly sweet. I couldn’t resist. “Then come on over.” It wasn’t until I’d finished up that my stomach rumbled. I scooped up Muffin and wandered through the mansion. The banquet was set in the side hall, with servants already arranging the engagement gifts. The evening reception hadn’t begun, guests hadn’t arrived, and everyone was busy in the side hall. When I reached the main dining room, I noticed it was well past lunchtime, yet the dishes hadn’t been cleared. Then I remembered – no one dared touch the food before me. I sat down and began to feast. I’d barely had two bites when a sharp blow landed on the back of my head, nearly sending me face-first into my bowl. A man’s shrill, angry voice exploded in my ear simultaneously: “You filthy freeloader! Grandpa hasn’t even touched his chopsticks, and you dare to steal food?” I clutched my throbbing head and looked up, meeting Dustin’s eyes. He wore a custom-tailored suit I had picked out, looking like a gentleman, but his eyes held nothing but contempt for me. “Ethan Calloway, are you that desperate? I told you not to come, and you still brazenly snuck in to freeload?” His three cronies, seeing me, were equally scornful. “Do you even know where you are? The Calloway mansion! You’re a country bumpkin, what makes you think you belong here?” “Look at him, dressed like a… a kept boy. He’s definitely here to seduce Ms. Calloway and ruin the engagement!” “Exactly! This lowlife even dared to call Ms. Calloway ‘sweetheart’! Ms. Calloway is the Calloway Patriarch’s most valued future leader, and you’re nothing!” I gritted my teeth, retorting, “Me calling her ‘sweetheart’ was an honor. She must have woken up laughing every night.” To gain my approval, Olivia had gone to great lengths to win me over. Once, pleased with her efforts, I’d kissed her forehead. She’d been so thrilled she posted it online to show off, which Dustin then twisted into me seducing her, triggering two years of relentless bullying. They’d put thumbtacks in my sneakers, slipped explicit cards into my desk, and glued my chair with superglue. They even spread vicious rumors online that I was seducing forty or fifty-year-old female teachers and doing unspeakable things for money. For two years, my reputation at school was in tatters. I called the police repeatedly, but the school always let him off with a simple apology. I never imagined he’d escalate to assaulting me in my own home. “I am Olivia Calloway’s Grand-…” My words were cut short as Dustin grabbed the soup pot from my table and emptied it over my head. “Ah!” Scalding liquid streamed down, my scalp instantly sizzling with pain, making me shake violently. Before I could react, Dustin seized my hair and slammed my head onto the table. Thud, thud, thud. My face bounced repeatedly off the hard surface. The metallic tang of blood filled my mouth, mixing with the desperate, gurgling cries clawing their way from my throat. Dustin laughed, a harsh, triumphant sound. “Hahaha, look at this scumbag! You must scream just as loud when you’re servicing those old ladies, huh?” His rage flared. He ordered the three others to hold me down. “Since you dared to steal food, we’ll just break your hands.” “Dustin, you wouldn’t dare!” I screamed in alarm. No sooner had the words left my lips than he picked up the soup pot and slammed it down on my hands. Thump, thump, thump. Excruciating pain shot through my fingers, but I was held immobile. I watched in horror as my perfectly good fingers were crushed and twisted at grotesque angles. Just then, Muffin, who had been bristling, arched her back and lunged at Dustin, scratching his hand in a flash. “Ah! You damn animal!” Dustin shrieked, kicking Muffin hard, sending her flying across the room. “Muffin!” Taking advantage of their momentary shock, I gritted through the agony and broke free, shielding Muffin with my body. “Don’t you dare touch my cat. Olivia will never forgive you if she finds out.” Muffin was a gift from my grandmother, her significance beyond measure. The previous head of the family had accidentally stepped on Muffin once; I merely frowned, and he was expelled from the Family Council for disrespecting an elder, now reduced to begging for scraps. Olivia, keen to earn my approval, had seized the opportunity, taking care of Muffin, even scooping up her droppings with her bare hands when the cat had an upset stomach. That’s how she earned my trust. “He’s right. I’ve seen the Calloway family’s pet cat in the news several times. It looks exactly like this one.” One of the cronies realized the gravity of the situation. But Dustin, hearing this, became even more enraged. “A pathetic loser like you dares to threaten me?” “There are plenty of animals that look alike. Your cat is as low-class as you are.” “Even if it is the Calloway family’s cat, Olivia wouldn’t blame me over a damn animal, would she?” A cold sneer twisted his lips as he exchanged glances with the others. “Kill this animal. I’ll take full responsibility.” Amidst their wild laughter, I was stomped on again by several feet, my face contorted from the blows. I watched in despair as Dustin raised his foot, ending Muffin’s life in a single stomp. “No!” My desperate cry was met with Dustin’s sinister grin. “The small runt’s taken care of. Now for the big one.” Without another word, Dustin uncoiled his belt and began lashing at my face, counting cruelly as he struck. “One hit, two hits, three hits… Hahaha, look at him, his face is swollen like a pig’s head.” “Let’s give him a ‘pretty boy’ makeover!” one of the cronies cackled, and then several more slaps rained down on my face. My lips were split and swollen, numb to the point where I couldn’t feel them anymore. My teeth, mixed with blood, came loose. The pain echoed in my skull, a buzzing void that made their words indistinct. With tremendous effort, I pulled at my sausage-like lips, forcing out a final, raw whisper. “I am Olivia Calloway’s Grand-Uncle. If you do this to me, the Calloway family will not let you walk out that door alive.” Dustin roared with laughter. “You’re named Calloway, so you’re the family Patriarch? Then I’m the Calloway family’s ancient ancestor! I’m gonna shut your rat mouth for good!” “Who’s making that racket?” Everyone spun around. The newcomer wore the Calloway butler’s uniform, an imposing figure. Hope surged within me. “Mr. Hayes, it’s me! It’s Ethan Calloway!” The cronies looked uncertain, releasing their grip on me. “Could he really be the Calloway Patriarch?” The butler eyed me from head to toe, then let out a dismissive scoff. “Who’s this filthy beggar? I don’t know him.” “Don’t be ridiculous. The Patriarch is at least eighty or ninety years old. You really believe this brat, who’s barely old enough to shave, when he claims to be him?” Normally, only core family members were allowed to see me. How could this new, low-ranking butler possibly know me? My heart plummeted. My last sliver of hope shattered. Dustin, his face full of disdain, spat a thick wad of phlegm onto my face, then gave the butler a thumbs-up. “Still, my dad’s smart.” Complete despair washed over me. No wonder Dustin was so arrogant – he was riding on the coattails of the new butler. A furious rage ignited in my gut, and my eyes burned red as I glared at him. “You let strangers into the Calloway mansion without the owner’s permission. You have a lot of nerve.” Slap! Dustin’s hand cracked across my face, dislodging more teeth. “I am the future owner of the Calloway family! I come and go as I please.” “Shut your filthy mouth, you’re deafening.” The group collectively bound me, and Dustin wrapped my mouth with layers of duct tape. I was helpless, my head forced towards their crotches, occasionally bumped and shoved, as they guffawed. When they’d had their fill, Dustin noticed my phone lying on the floor. He picked it up and unlocked it with my fingerprint. When he scrolled to the photo album, his eyes widened, then he exploded in fury. “You’re really delusional, aren’t you? You dared to secretly Photoshop photos of you and Olivia! I don’t even have photos that intimate with Olivia, and you’re this desperate for a woman?” “Oh, look! The Calloway family’s official group photo! You even dared to Photoshop yourself right in the center! Living out your rich-boy fantasies, huh?” “Who knows how many perverted things you’ve Photoshopped behind everyone’s backs? We need to teach this creep a lesson.” The others exchanged glances, huddled together, whispering and chuckling. At that moment, I was like meat on a chopping block, utterly at their mercy. They rushed forward and ripped my pants off. Meanwhile, Mr. Hayes stood by the door, nonchalantly blowing smoke rings, acting as their lookout. I was lifted upside down, humiliated. Dustin scanned the food on the table, a cruel smile twisting his lips as he scooped up a spoonful of something from a bowl. “Let Big Bro here perform a little… procedure for you.” “Ah!” A burning sensation erupted between my legs, spreading like wildfire through my entire body, making me convulse uncontrollably. “Ooh, he must be loving this!” “Don’t get him addicted, he’ll be asking us to do this every day!” “Well, what can we do? Gotta satisfy him!” Mr. Hayes, who’d been watching with sick amusement, flicked his cigarette and pressed the glowing tip onto a sensitive spot. My body, already limp with exhaustion, convulsed again from the fresh agony, and three seconds later, my head fell heavily. Dustin, meanwhile, gleefully snapped photos with my phone, then uploaded them to all my family group chats and social media feeds. Every single one. The caption read: “I’m a desperate little male dog in heat, begging my owner to come and give me some love. The older, the better.” A group of people scrambled to see the photos, asking Dustin to send them. Powerless, I shed my last tears of dignity. Grandma, Grandpa, Mom, Dad, I’m so sorry. I’ve brought shame to the Calloway name. “You’re so eager to sell yourself, everyone will see your photos and come to you for business. You’ll get rich, no need to thank me!” Dustin laughed, doubling over, quite pleased with his masterpiece. His lackeys even started singing a crude song. My hands were tied behind my back, and I lay prone on the ground. I seized the opportunity, kicking Dustin’s calf. He lost his balance, falling backward with a loud thud as his head hit the floor. Dustin shrieked in pain, clutching the back of his head. “You dare kick me? I could kill you today, and no one would care!” He struggled to his feet, picking up a dining fork and lunging for my carotid artery. Just as the tines pricked my skin, drawing a bead of blood, Mr. Hayes frantically shouted to Dustin. “Trouble! Ms. Calloway is here! She says she’s looking for the Patriarch!” They had no idea the Patriarch they sought was being tortured by them, still dreaming of marrying into the Calloway fortune. “Quick, clean up! We can’t ruin your ‘dutiful’ image in front of them! If the Patriarch gets upset, our dream of joining the family will be shattered!” Dustin snapped back to reality, dropping the fork, nodding furiously. “Right, right! Getting the Patriarch’s approval is crucial. We can deal with him later.” The butler pointed to the backyard. “There’s a dog kennel in the shed out back. Put him in there.” I was dragged to the backyard, while the others frantically cleaned up the scene. Muffin’s lifeless body was tossed into the trash. Olivia entered, holding a bag of cat treats. When she saw Dustin, she seemed surprised. “What are you doing here? I wasn’t supposed to pick you up yet?” Dustin inclined his head slightly, his eyes full of feigned affection. “I just missed you, darling. Couldn’t wait to see you and the Patriarch.” Olivia fell for it every time. She playfully tapped his nose. “Oh, you. Always so thoughtful.” She glanced around, a flicker of confusion in her eyes. “Why isn’t the Patriarch here yet?” Dustin, eager to impress, grabbed a cup of tea and knelt before the main seat. “I’ll just wait here. The moment the Patriarch arrives, he can accept my tea.” Everyone waited respectfully. As dusk fell, the crowd grew anxious. Dustin’s forehead was slick with sweat, his legs trembling from prolonged kneeling. But the Patriarch’s seat remained stubbornly empty. A servant rushed in, breathless. “We’ve searched the entire mansion! The Patriarch is nowhere to be found! Could he be… missing?” Marcus Calloway, Olivia’s father, was drenched in sweat. “Search! Turn this place upside down if you have to! We must find the Patriarch!” “Without him, my daughter’s engagement party can’t continue, and the family head position will be jeopardized!” Everyone was like ants on a hot skillet. Olivia, seeing Dustin’s distress, quickly went to help him up. “Maybe you should get up for a bit.” Dustin’s eyes were red-rimmed, but he stubbornly shook his head. “Is there something I’ve done wrong? Has Grand-Uncle disapproved? Then I’ll stay here on my knees, begging for his forgiveness.” Olivia sighed. As she lifted her hand, she noticed it was covered in white fur. Her face drained of color. She’d cared for Muffin for so long; she recognized that fur instantly. Her gaze snapped to the remaining bloodstains on the floor, following them to the trash can. She flipped it over like a madwoman. A headless cat’s body tumbled out. Olivia’s shoulders trembled uncontrollably, her face contorted in horror as she cradled Muffin. “What the hell is this?” Dustin had never seen Olivia so distraught. He looked bewildered. “What’s wrong, darling?” The next second, Olivia buried her face in Muffin’s lifeless body, sobbing as if her own parents had died. Dustin’s expression turned to panic. He shakily stood up. “It’s just an animal. Why are you so worked up?” Olivia’s head snapped up, two lines of tears streaking her face, her eyes wide with terror. “An animal? This was more important than my own life!” Her furious roar made Dustin flinch. His eyes darted around, completely flustered. He couldn’t grasp why this cat held such importance for Olivia, so he instinctively blamed me. “It was my classmate!” Dustin dropped to his knees with a thud, his voice choked with tears. “I’m so sorry! It was my unsophisticated classmate, he didn’t know any better and hurt it!” Olivia’s fists clenched, her teeth grinding audibly. “Where is he? I’ll kill him with my own hands!” Dustin, oblivious to his impending doom, only heard Olivia say she’d kill me. A look of perverse joy spread across his face as he pointed to the backyard. “He’s locked in the shed out back! I’ll bring him in right now!”

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1 My fiancée always had an excellent memory, almost photographic, but when I proposed, she forgot to extend her hand for the diamond ring. When we went to get our marriage license, she forgot her ID. On our wedding day, she didn’t even show up. She was busy saving her childhood sweetheart’s wedding in the venue next door. This scene caused my mom to have a heart attack on the spot. I begged my fiancée to come to her bedside to explain, but she gently held the hand of her childhood sweetheart’s mother, called her “Mom,” and then claimed I was a persistent stalker. Later, I arranged my mother’s funeral alone and applied for an overseas assignment. When I got home to pack my bags, my fiancée, Scarlett, who had just returned from her honeymoon with her childhood sweetheart, Ethan, looked content and asked with a smile: “John, is your mother feeling better? We can pick another good day to have our wedding and make her happy.” She didn’t know that ever since my mom passed away, it was already over between us. I was folding winter clothes one by one into my suitcase. Suddenly, the front door was pushed open, and someone tiptoed in. A pair of cold hands covered my eyes from behind. “Guess who I am?” she asked playfully, intentionally lowering her voice, just like she used to tease me every time I returned from a business trip. In the past, I would have smiled and said, “Of course, my dearest darling,” and then tenderly warmed her hands. But now, only cold indifference remained in my heart; I had no mood to play along. I pulled her hands away directly and continued folding clothes. Scarlett paused, her fingers tightening slightly, then she cooed, “John, what’s wrong? Isn’t a month of silent treatment enough? Last time you suddenly burst into the wedding, it made everyone so awkward; I had to explain for ages.” I sneered. A month ago, I became the laughingstock in everyone’s eyes. My bride married someone else in front of everyone. My mom had a heart attack because of it, and I was disgracefully chased out of the venue by Scarlett, like a beggar. Until the day my mother was buried, the townsfolk were still pointing fingers at me, full of sarcasm: “That’s him, the guy whose wife ran off with someone on his wedding day? And he was supposed to be a straight-A student, thirty years old and can’t even find a partner!” “How embarrassing. I heard his mom’s passing was hastened by the stress. If I had a son like that, I’d just want to disappear!” That damp, oppressive feeling from the funeral surged back into my heart. Coming back to my senses, I calmly said: “It’s not silent treatment…” We’re breaking up. Before I could finish, Scarlett dragged out an “oh” sound and said with a smile, “Not silent treatment, you’re just mad at me, right? Alright, didn’t I send you a message explaining? Ethan’s fiancée ran off, and our families are old friends; helping out wouldn’t cost us a limb.” She flopped onto the sofa, picked up a black and gray sweater casually, and while folding it, she frowned and muttered, “This sweater is so ugly, why don’t we just throw it away!” I didn’t speak, just stared at the shining diamond ring on her ring finger, realizing only then what the cold touch that had covered my eyes was. Scarlett followed my gaze, quickly pulled off the ring and stuffed it into her pocket, sticking out her tongue and laughing, “We have to play the part fully, you know; I forgot to take it off. John, you big jealous baby, aren’t you mad again?” Actually, I wasn’t angry at all. I just suddenly remembered that when I proposed to her, kneeling on one knee and pulling out the custom-designed diamond ring, she didn’t extend her hand. She said she didn’t like the feeling of being restrained by a ring and would wear it during the ring exchange at the wedding. But in the end, she first wore the ring Ethan gave her, and couldn’t even bear to take it off. Angry? Never again. For the past month, I had masochistically watched news reports of Scarlett and Ethan on their honeymoon, traveling the world, and my heart had long gone numb. I looked away, not answering, just taking the sweater back from her hand and saying flatly, “This is a wool sweater my mom knitted for me herself.” Scarlett’s hand froze in mid-air. She looked somewhat displeased, pursed her lips, but still suppressed her anger and said gently, “Oh, by the way, how’s your mom? She should be much better after a month of rest, right?” She added with a smile, “Actually, I always felt our wedding venue was too small and simple. Let’s take this opportunity to pick a new date and have a luxurious wedding, that’ll make your mom happy!” I knew Scarlett was in a good mood today and had given me many chances to back down. If I didn’t take them, she would definitely blow up. But she forgot, on the day we were supposed to get our marriage license, she claimed she forgot her ID and went to the Registrar’s Office, but then turned around and accompanied Ethan, whose fiancée had absconded, to try on wedding dresses. We never even got the license, and we didn’t need any wedding. Coming back to my senses, I just gave a desolate laugh: “No need.” After being cold-shouldered by me several times, Scarlett’s face immediately darkened. She was about to speak when her phone suddenly rang. Seeing Ethan’s name on the screen, her brows relaxed, and she said sweetly, “I just got home, why are you calling?” I don’t know what was said on the other end, but she cradled the phone between her neck and shoulder, picked up the camel wool coat from the coat rack, and laughed, “Ethan, you’re annoying! Your girlfriend’s still trying to soothe her boyfriend! This is the last time, alright!” I watched her skillfully put the ring back on, checked her makeup and the hem of her coat in the full-length mirror, and picked up her bag, ready to leave. When her hand was on the doorknob, she seemed to remember my existence. So she hastily turned back, stood on tiptoe, ruffled my hair, and said in a clingy voice, “Alright, John, stop sulking. I bought you a little gift; I’ll bring it to you tonight.” I watched her leave, then turned to the floor-to-ceiling window. Through the glass, I saw a bright yellow sports car parked downstairs, its chassis so low it looked like it was hugging the ground. Ethan was leaning against the car door, a lit cigarette flickering between his fingers. And Scarlett, who was always a clean freak, skillfully took the cigarette from Ethan’s hand, bit the filter, and turned to sit in the passenger seat. I looked away, pulling the curtains shut. Turning, I picked up the overseas assignment application form on my desk, which I had already filled out. 2 Fingering the sharp edge of the application form, I left the house without hesitation and hailed a cab to the company. After a day of packing, it was already evening. I had applied for the overseas assignment in the system two days ago, and it had been approved; now I just needed to submit the paper information for filing. At the company, everyone looked at me and whispered. “Isn’t that the guy from the video who caused a scene at CEO Ma’s wedding? Oh, wasn’t he on bereavement leave a while ago? How dare he show up again?” “I bet he’s here to resign. He’s been working for the company for ten years, and he’s still just a team leader. They say he’s applied for promotion five times and never got approved. What a loser.” These harsh comments, which once made me feel depressed, now left me unfazed. After all, during the time I was arranging my mother’s funeral, I had heard too many similar taunts. I walked straight ahead, knocked on my superior, Mr. Davis’s office door. “Come in.” Mr. Davis looked at the form in my hand, nodded, and said with satisfaction, “John, I didn’t believe you the other day when you said you wanted to go overseas. Before, when I suggested it, you said you wanted to stay with your girlfriend and didn’t want a long-distance relationship. This time you’re quite decisive.” “Tomorrow, people from headquarters will come to inspect the overseas assignment situation. You just need to show up at the company again tomorrow, and then you can leave.” “Speaking of which, we were interns at the same time. You were more capable than me and helped me a lot. Now you’ve finally come to your senses… That’s good.” I lowered my gaze. Yes, perhaps it was bad luck; all my fellow interns became executives, while I remained stagnant. Walking out of the company, I looked back at the skyscraper I had worked in for ten years. For these ten years, Scarlett’s family company grew stronger and stronger, even their branch office building reached new heights. But why did my relationship with Scarlett collapse so spectacularly? My meeting with Scarlett was a classic rich girl meets poor student story. My father passed away early, and my mother raised me alone. At that time, besides classes, I practically squeezed out every minute to work part-time, helping people with tutoring. Until a thug not only owed me tutoring fees but also brought his buddies, wanting me to hand over all my money. I was full of despair; it was Scarlett who came with bodyguards and saved me, pulled me up from the ground, and even offered to treat me to dinner. She said her grades weren’t good, and she was afraid of failing, so she asked me to help her cram for finals. Actually, I knew her grades were excellent; this was just her way of helping me. I was attracted by her kindness and outgoing personality, and we gradually got together. On the day I confessed my feelings, she held my hand and declared to everyone on campus: “This is my smart, handsome boyfriend!” When I graduated, I gave up a government-sponsored overseas scholarship. When I started working, I gave up a high-paying executive job at a major international company. I just wanted to stay with Scarlett, hoping simply to marry her, have children, and grow old together. Everything changed a year ago, on the day Scarlett’s childhood sweetheart, Ethan, returned from overseas. That day, Scarlett left me, sick, for the first time, just to pick up Ethan at the airport. That night, she got completely drunk at the welcome party, lay in Ethan’s arms, whining that she wouldn’t come back with me, crying and asking, “Ethan, why did you take so long to come back!” From then on, I constantly argued with her because of Ethan. I wanted her to have boundaries, but she accused me of being too controlling, not allowing her to have any friends. She even said sarcastically that, considering Ethan and she had known each other since childhood, I was the latecomer. Until two months ago, on the day Ethan sent her a wedding invitation, she, who had refused my 99 marriage proposals, suddenly leaned into my arms and muttered, “John, maybe we should get married too?” Shaking my head, I shook off the memories, my silhouette stretched long in the setting sun, a solitary figure. In this world, I no longer had any family. After a few steps, the sky turned completely dark. I was just about to pull out my phone to call a cab home. Then, I heard a familiar laugh nearby, speaking intimately: “Ethan, put me down quickly, if you drop me, you’re dead!” Turning my head, I saw the entrance of a bustling bar, bathed in neon lights. Ethan was carrying Scarlett in a princess carry and spinning her around. Scarlett’s long arms were tightly wrapped around Ethan, laughing heartily. A crowd had gathered around them, egging them on. “Alright, three more rounds! Go, Ethan, don’t forget to drink an interlocked arms toast with your wife when you stop!” “That’s some serious boyfriend strength! No wonder Princess Scarlett can’t forget our Prince Ethan!” After Ethan stopped, Scarlett, a bit dizzy, jumped down and then, with Ethan, skillfully took the wine glasses handed to them by the people nearby and drank a toast with interlocked arms. Instantly, the cheering around them grew louder, clapping and shouting: “Kiss! Kiss!” Scarlett seemed a bit dazed and didn’t move. Ethan laughed, defending Scarlett: “Alright, you guys. You just got back from your honeymoon and you’re already trying to make up for some post-wedding shenanigans. My wife has been playing along all day, from noon to afternoon; it’s time for everyone to go home!” But the next second, Scarlett grabbed Ethan’s tie, stood on tiptoe, and kissed him directly. Her eyes were open, her gaze clear and tender. The next second, she looked away, slowly released Ethan’s tie, and covered her head, pretending to be drunk: “I want to go home… My head hurts so bad…” I took in Scarlett’s attentiveness, her careful love for Ethan. And I watched as she shakily pulled out her phone and made a call. Then, my phone rang. From several meters away. Scarlett heard the ringtone and, the moment our eyes met, she straightened up. 3 Everyone looked at us, bewildered, as we stared at each other, and asked Scarlett, “Scarlett, who is this?” Scarlett’s eyes flickered, and she mumbled, “He’s our family driver. My mom asked me to go home for dinner with her today.” Ethan’s eyes were full of triumph; he deliberately enunciated each word: “Oh, so he’s the driver. Well, you’d better take good care of your young lady.” If it were the old me, I would have grabbed Ethan by the collar and started a fight. Now, I just felt bored; I didn’t even spare a glance, turning to get into the ride-share I had called earlier. Back home, I hadn’t eaten all afternoon, and my stomach was cramping, so I cooked myself some plain noodles. I had barely taken two bites when I heard the click-clack of high heels outside. The next second, Scarlett kicked the door open. Seeing me eating, she flew into a rage, turning and hitting my back with her purse: “John, why did you just turn and leave earlier? Do you have any idea how much face that made me lose!” What surprised me even more was that Ethan had followed her. He put a concerned arm around Scarlett’s shoulder from behind, saying gently, “Scarlett, how can you hit John? Didn’t I say we should talk nicely?” He turned to me with a smile, masking the triumph in his eyes. “John, please don’t get angry. I just followed along to explain because I was afraid you two would argue, but you also have a point. Scarlett’s a girl; how could you leave her alone on the street?” Another chopstickful of noodles went into my mouth; I answered Scarlett without lifting my head: “Scarlett, with your husband Ethan there, what are you afraid of?” Scarlett’s face turned ashen; she was so angry her chest heaved continuously: “What husband? John, you need to have a limit to your jealousy, alright? Those are just some acquaintances in our circle, and Ethan and I were just putting on a show! Do you think I like drinking? I did it all for you!” I found it absurd. She was clearly enjoying being lovey-dovey with Ethan, and now she’s acting all aggrieved? Looking at Scarlett, I put down my chopsticks and countered, “For me?” Scarlett said matter-of-factly: “For you! Ethan’s family and mine are merging, and my mom only agreed to give me the heir position if I married him! Only then can I be with you, and only then can I transfer you to headquarters as a VP. Isn’t all of this for you and your career!” Ethan subtly frowned, a hint of malice flashing in his eyes, but he superficially agreed: “Scarlett’s right, you don’t know this, do you? To protect you, she deliberately rejected all your promotion applications over the years. She put so much thought into you!” I froze. Suddenly, a chill ran down to the top of my head. So all the cold treatment I received over the years was orchestrated by Scarlett herself. Then what were all those late nights working overtime on proposals, the contracts I signed only after drinking until my stomach bled, the lack of holidays that meant I rarely saw my mother? What did all that count for? I asked Scarlett, “Is that true?” Scarlett didn’t feel guilty at all; instead, she nodded as if seeking praise: “Yes, not only to protect you, but also to temper your will, so you can take on great responsibilities! It’s just a little salary; now that you’re my husband, you’ll have everything you want in the future.” I found it ridiculous. Scarlett always insisted on not making our relationship public. Even for our wedding, she only wanted me to invite my closest relatives and friends, not to make a big deal of it. Practically no one knew about our relationship; her so-called ‘protection’ of me was just an empty excuse. Everything was just to satisfy her controlling desire to belittle and suppress me, making me revolve around her. Now I realized that what I once believed to be sweetness and sincerity was never pure. I shook my head, finally speaking the words in my heart: “Scarlett, let’s break up!” Scarlett’s eyes widened; she looked at me in disbelief. Her lips trembled; she couldn’t even utter a single word. A gleam of joy flashed in Ethan’s eyes, and he quickly reprimanded, “John, you can’t break up with Scarlett just because she’s close with me! Scarlett really loves you; when she was on her honeymoon, the first thing she thought about when she saw unique souvenirs was sending them to you!” With someone backing her up, Scarlett regained her composure and became even angrier, putting her hands on her hips and scoffing, “John, are you getting more and more carried away? Do you think you have me wrapped around your finger? Break up? Do you even have the right to break up with me? For the past ten years, you’ve eaten my food, used my things, I found you your job, what more do you want?” She spoke in a long, unbroken stream, as if she had prepared it in advance. So she was so dissatisfied with me, thinking she was the one who paid the most. If it were the old me, I might have argued with her, debating who had sacrificed more. But now, looking at her in a rage. I suddenly laughed. “Thank you.” Instantly, Scarlett’s anger subsided a lot; she looked confused: “Thank you for what?” My lips were still curled upwards as I calmly said, “Thank you for letting me know that in your heart, I’m just a useless leech.” After speaking, I took the finished dishes and chopsticks into the kitchen, turned on the faucet, and washed them clean. When I came out again, Scarlett was still standing there, motionless. Ethan handed her a glass of honey water, whispering, “Scarlett, drink some honey water to sober up, you used to love it.” For the first time, Scarlett placed the glass absentmindedly on the table. Her face flushed; after a long moment, she softly said to me, “I didn’t mean that…” I ignored her, turned around, picked up my already packed suitcase, and walked out. As I walked out the door, behind me, a glass was violently smashed against the doorframe, breaking into pieces. Sticky honey water splattered all over me. Then, another box was thrown to the ground. Inside, two clay rings spilled out. 4 I looked at the clay rings at my feet, a bit puzzled. Behind me, Scarlett shrieked, full of grievance: “These are the rings I specifically made for you overseas! I was always thinking of you, John! Why are you so inconsiderate, running away from home!” I only found it laughable. I don’t know what she was thinking. The initials of Scarlett and Ethan were engraved on the inside of the rings, clearly their couple’s rings. Yet she had the nerve to say they were specially made for me. My steps no longer faltered; I pulled my suitcase and found a random hotel to rest for the night. Anyway, I was leaving this city tomorrow. The next morning, I finished washing up and went to the company. But I didn’t expect to hear a chorus of praise as soon as I entered the company. “Wow, CEO Scarlett and CEO Ethan, you two are so perfect together! And you’re even wearing matching outfits, you guys are couple goals!” “CEO Scarlett, CEO Ethan, I’m also a fan of your ship! Can you let me take a picture?” I saw Scarlett and Ethan standing hand-in-hand in the center of the company, accepting everyone’s adoration, while Mr. Davis was bowing and smiling apologetically. Turns out they were the so-called “headquarters people.” Seeing me, Mr. Davis introduced, “John, these are CEO Scarlett and VP Ethan from headquarters. They’re here to check on the overseas assignment situation.” Scarlett deliberately turned her head away from me, her previously upturned lips flattening, and she just asked coldly, “Who are the people going on overseas assignment this time?” Mr. Davis found my name and two others, and smiled, “These three.” Instantly, Scarlett’s expression froze, her eyes clouded with dark emotions. Ethan immediately jumped in, his face filled with shock, and he reprimanded, “How are you conducting your work? Don’t you know our company strictly prohibits married employees from overseas assignments! Both the applicant and the approver will be penalized!” Mr. Davis looked bewildered and blurted out, “There are no married people here.” Scarlett’s delicate brows furrowed slightly; she pointed at me, her red lips curving into a cold sneer: “Didn’t this person take marriage leave a while ago?” Mr. Davis honestly replied, “He initially took marriage leave, but I guess he applied for the wrong one. It was later changed to bereavement leave; his mother passed away.” Upon hearing this, Scarlett’s face instantly turned pale, her outstretched finger stiff, looking at me in disbelief. As if realizing something, her eyes flickered, and she quietly asked, “Why didn’t you tell me… about your mother’s passing…” I found it ridiculous. My mother had always cherished Scarlett as a daughter-in-law, saying I was incredibly lucky to marry her, and always looked forward to the day Scarlett would call her “Mom.” But what my mother received was Scarlett marrying someone else and affectionately calling their mother “Mom.” I said calmly, “No need, Ms. Ma. Does headquarters even manage the personal affairs of regular employees?” Scarlett felt something gradually slipping out of control; she gritted her teeth, and her anger flared up: “How is it unnecessary! I’m still her daughter-in-law, after all!” “Whose daughter-in-law are you?” While everyone looked astonished, the company’s main door was pushed open. An elderly woman walked in, the fine lines around her eyes revealing a sharp demeanor. Scarlett’s mother, Ms. Henderson, the chairwoman of Henderson Corp. Everyone reacted, collectively calling out: “Good morning, Chairwoman Henderson!” Chairwoman Henderson nodded; she turned her head and asked Ethan with a smile, “Ethan, I asked you two young spouses to show your faces at the branch offices, but it seems you’ve run into some trouble?” Remembering Scarlett’s earlier statement, everyone present remained silent, not daring to breathe. Ethan’s face turned green, then white, then he forced a smile: “Scarlett’s best friend is John’s wife, and now that John is going overseas, Scarlett just wants to stand up for her friend.” Hearing this, Scarlett bit her lip and remained silent, her head bowed in conflicted thought. Chairwoman Henderson’s brows deepened further; she said sternly, “Is someone daring to violate company policy? I want to see who’s so bold!” I spoke calmly, “Chairwoman Henderson, they’ve misunderstood. I’m not married, and my ex-girlfriend and I broke up peacefully a long time ago.” Chairwoman Henderson raised an eyebrow slightly, looked me up and down, then asked Scarlett, “I’ve seen John’s file; he is indeed unmarried. Are you mistaken? He needs to catch his flight today; don’t delay him.” “Catch his flight?” Scarlett’s pupils suddenly contracted. Turning, she saw my calm expression, and Scarlett’s heart skipped a beat. She suddenly showed a panicked expression and blurted out, “Mom! It’s not a best friend, it’s me! I’m John’s wife! How could I be mistaken? The marriage license date was November 3rd; he must be lying! I personally got the license with him that day!” Everyone present swallowed hard, never expecting to witness such a scene of family drama. Scarlett’s expression relaxed a little, thinking this would stop me from going overseas. But Chairwoman Henderson’s brows deepened further; she looked between me and Scarlett, and after a moment, made her judgment: “What nonsense are you talking about? Even if he’s your ex-boyfriend, your ID has always been safely locked away with me. What would you have used to get a marriage license with him?”

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1 The day the internship results were announced, I scrolled past a post: “How devastating can a ghost of the past truly be?” The top-voted answer, recently published, read: “Let me tell you my story. He had a crush on me in high school. The other day, I ran into him while job hunting.” “Even if my qualifications weren’t the best, he’d make sure I was the one in a million chosen.” Accompanying the text was their high school graduation photo – the girl in a white dress, her slender back exuding quiet innocence; the boy looking earnestly at her, his clean profile strikingly familiar. Just then, my phone vibrated with the notification: internship rejected. A sudden, chilling realization hit me: she was Liam Hollister’s ‘ghost of the past,’ and what was being crushed, was my future. I could accept a disastrous love life, but my career, my freedom, my entire life, could not suffer the slightest setback. The comments beneath the post instantly ignited a firestorm of discussion: “Seriously? Paving the way for your own kids is one thing, but for a past crush?” “Spill more tea, Miss Ghost-of-the-Past, otherwise the internet detectives will find you!” “Old enough to pull strings like this, so probably already married, right? Is the OP using the ‘ghost of the past’ excuse to be a mistress?” “Another cockroach basking in the sunlight! Do you roaches even differentiate between ‘ghost of the past’ and ‘scarlet letter’ types?” The OP, far from flustered, replied with a hint of smugness: “I know you’re all unrefined and unappealing, struggling to even make ends meet in real life, so you can only lash out online.” “I’m just lucky. Divorced with a kid, and still treated like a princess. It’s perfectly fine if it infuriates you! He’s even celebrating with me after work.” This was the latest reply, two minutes ago. I tapped my phone. Liam Hollister was still my pinned contact. Two hours earlier, he’d told me he was attending a high school reunion dinner tonight, and, as always, sent me his location: “Reach out anytime if you need me.” For five years, he had always proactively reported his schedule: overtime, dinners, sudden business trips… Even a single, brief message was enough to put my mind at ease. That’s why I had never considered seeing how he acted in front of others. But today, I suddenly wanted to see for myself. Outside, the wind howled, whipping up snow, and the road bled with the angry red glow of taillights. The restaurant was near my lab, easy to find. Perhaps due to the weather, few people were dining. I quickly located their private room. Inside, the conversation was lively: “Among all of us, Mark’s made the most of himself. That whole Chloe Harlan situation, it wasn’t minor, was it? Yet, you handled it so effortlessly…” “You used to say she was just a bookworm, and look at her now! I hear Liam’s quite respected at work.” Liam’s tone was detached, as if discussing the weather: “It was nothing, just a favor. I’m hosting tonight, so help yourselves to anything.” More flattery ensued. “Chloe, you’re set for life now. To put it bluntly, with Liam backing you, even if you don’t go to work, no one would dare say anything.” The girl, called Chloe, scoffed. “You make it sound like I’m entirely dependent on Liam. I’ve researched this position thoroughly. I was fully confident in my ability to handle it before I even submitted my resume.” “Fully confident? This is one of Riverbend City’s top two labs! In previous years, they only accepted Riverbend University PhDs. What’s your degree…” “Chloe fully met the admission requirements this time.” Liam raised his voice slightly, easily coming to Chloe’s defense. His college roommate – the only person there I vaguely knew – spoke up: “Liam, aren’t you worried about your girlfriend finding out about this?” Liam’s voice suddenly darkened. “What’s there to fuss about? Just helping an old classmate. And we’re getting married soon. Even if she doesn’t work, I can still feed her.” Everyone echoed his sentiments, making it hard to discern their sincerity: “Honestly, her marrying you is a blessing from her ancestors.” “If it were me, I’d spoil my man rotten, not cause trouble.” “Chloe, did you misjudge him back then? If you’d just said yes to Liam, you’d be living the good life right now!” A well-known secret was thrown out, and the private room fell silent. Chloe’s voice, tinged with a feigned grievance, mumbled: “With someone to take care of you, what’s there to fuss about? I truly envy her now. If I didn’t have Daisy, who would be willing to go out and work like a dog?” Someone asked Liam, “I hear your girlfriend isn’t from around here, and your parents agreed to it?” Liam clearly didn’t want to continue the topic, merely grunting, “…Mm.” Chloe was about to say more, but Liam cut her off: “There aren’t that many ‘what ifs’ in this world… Right now, I’m her only support in this city. And she’s from a single-parent family. Girls from such families… you wouldn’t understand.” I pulled my winter coat tighter around me. The hallway was stiflingly warm, thick with heat, yet a shiver traced its way down my spine. In that single moment, I felt like saying nothing. My heart hollowed out, emotion a raw knot in my throat, impossible to swallow, impossible to purge. It made me sick. So this was Liam Hollister in front of others. He would casually make my private life a joke, degrading me into something utterly worthless. 2 I walked aimlessly down the street, my face stinging. I knew it wasn’t my fault, but I couldn’t stop the tears from flowing. Every fleeting moment of the past five years played out in my mind. Liam was five years older than me. In my first year of grad school, he returned as an outstanding alumnus to give a lecture. Learning he was working at the lab I dreamed of, I quickly scanned the QR code on the screen. Initially, I just wanted to learn more about the latest recruitment news. But whether by chance or fate, we always seemed to run into each other in public places. Sometimes at a professor’s lecture, sometimes at an academic symposium… Gradually, our interactions became more frequent. He was as composed and rational as the rumors said. His exceptional looks were merely his least remarkable quality. When I was crying hysterically in the lab over complex data, he happened to be returning from a school event and decided, on a whim, to visit the lab building furthest from campus. When my roommate and I got into an argument with the next table at a restaurant, he and his friends happened to be in the adjacent place, and he effortlessly helped us out. When I was alone at the hospital for a check-up, holding an ambiguous report, afraid to approach the doctor, he appeared, silhouetted against the light at the end of the hallway… On Christmas Eve, he asked me out for dinner and, with remarkable naturalness, confessed his feelings. I felt like I’d been struck by a lucky charm, standing there stunned. He took a small step back, creating a distance that felt safe. “It’s okay if you say no. Your wishes are what matter most.” “Just tell me when you’re ready for a relationship, and I’ll be right there, closest to you, not going anywhere.” I quickly shook my head, felt something was wrong, then just as quickly nodded. … After we got together, even pulling all-nighters in the lab felt fun. There was always a stream of texts from him on my phone. [Iris Hayes, I ordered you seafood congee. Remember to eat it while it’s hot.] [Iris Hayes, you’re hopeless! The data in your paper is clearly missing a decimal point!] [Iris Hayes, don’t overwork yourself. It breaks my heart.] He would kiss me carefully, and every time we parted, he’d whisper “I love you” into my ear. He was no longer as reserved as when we first met. He’d even get jealous if I looked at an opposing player for too long during a basketball game he was playing in. He made me discover a better version of myself during my most stagnant and hopeless moments. But all these seemingly beautiful memories were now tainted with the bitter hue of doubt. My phone suddenly vibrated. It was Sarah, my senior research fellow. She was also involved in the lab’s recruitment. “Iris, did you… did you and Liam have a fight?” I lowered my gaze, trying to sound calm. “No, why?” Sarah clearly paused, then stammered, “Our university usually has a 100% acceptance rate every year; it’s practically an unwritten rule. This year, the other two got in, but only you…” “But the girl who was accepted, while she technically met the qualifications, her resume and interview were clearly not as good as yours…” Only me. Only I was rejected. But I had been preparing to get into the Riverbend University Lab since high school. With a civilian’s hellish dedication, I had emerged victorious from that arduous battle, completing my bachelor’s, master’s, and doctorate at Riverbend University. My dream was within reach today. Yet, Liam had brazenly taken my decade-long efforts and offered them as a bridal gown for his ‘ghost of the past.’ 3 Back home, I sank into the sofa, scrolling through Chloe Harlan’s profile. She loved answering questions. And she loved adding “Hollister’s invite” before her replies. [How are you doing now that you’re married?] [Hollister’s invite.] [My original family background is excellent, upper-middle class or above, I suppose. For the first thirty years of my life, I rejected many boys, including some very, very outstanding ones. My ex-husband and I met abroad. It was his second marriage, my first. His conditions were far better than mine. His family was very pleased with me, finding me pure and innocent, so I was willing to take a leave of absence from school to have his child. I’m doing quite well after the divorce too. One marriage, but it clarified two people. My ex-husband harbored a princess in his heart, and I also have a knight loyal to me. Neither of us lost.] A knight loyal to her… I tugged at the corner of my mouth, scrolling further down. [If you could turn back time, what year would you go back to?] [Hollister’s invite.] [Probably the year he confessed to me in high school. If I had another chance, I would definitely say yes. I was abroad for five years and have been back for almost two months. That day, he returned from a business trip, and we ran into each other at the airport. He helped me find a place to live and a school for my child. Even when I was hospitalized, he took care of me while also picking up and dropping off my child. After I was discharged last month, I said I wanted to visit a temple, and he didn’t hesitate to accompany me to South Peak. It was raining that day, and the mountain path was difficult, but I felt incredibly safe.] Countless details flashed in my mind like a rapid slideshow, each one fitting perfectly. I clutched my chest, a sharp, precise pain seeping from between my ribs. Last month, it only rained for one day. That day, I was driving my professor’s car to pick up materials when I was rear-ended. The driver was aggressive, slamming his hand against my car window the moment he got out. I quickly called Liam, but all I got was a busy signal. When the traffic police arrived, the rain was coming down even harder; my umbrella offered no protection. I stood shivering by the roadside, my teeth chattering. Finally, Liam answered. He kept his voice low, telling me he was busy and would call me back later. At the time, I thought I heard a faint, distant bell chiming, believing it to be a hallucination. While I stood in the rain, terrified and alone, he was kneeling devoutly before a Buddha, praying only for his ‘ghost of the past’ to be healthy and safe. The latest Q&A: [Do you believe in broken mirrors mending?] [Hollister’s invite.] [Working on it… He’s currently choosing to stay with his current girlfriend out of a sense of responsibility. So I don’t see myself as a mistress. A man’s love fluctuates between two women, and the one who came later is the mistress. But I was clearly the first, and I can feel his love is all for me. Just finished dinner. He called a ride-share to take me home. The car still smelled of my favorite jasmine scent. He’d had too much to drink and suddenly looked at me, saying A can only be A, and B can be anyone. I’m pretending not to understand, because I know I am A. I’m planning to buy two bottles of wine and talk to him all night, truly, just talk. Our high school classmates all know that his current girlfriend is lazy and relies on him completely. Compared to a woman like that, I’m certainly right to be confident, aren’t I? Who knows, maybe after talking, he’ll give up his sense of responsibility and choose true love.] Perhaps due to the “ghost of the past” effect, this post had an unusual number of comments. [I want to call the police so bad. There’s a powerless feeling of not being able to reach through the screen.] [Who is B?! Save B! Save my sanity!!] [This is giving ‘backdoor’ sister confidence! Find that B! I need to tell them loudly!] [And the poor soul whose spot she took! Notify them too!] [Did she specialize in digging up graves in her past life? In this life, she’s digging up people’s jobs AND their partners?] [If I see another post like this, my stocks and gold will surge.] …How unfortunate. The “poor soul” was me. “B” was also me. I realized with chilling clarity. It wasn’t that Liam had suddenly stopped loving me. It was that Liam had never loved me at all. Because his heart belonged to a lost love from his youth. And I had always been competing with a phantom.

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