Author: Momo Chan

  • The Picture-Perfect Stand-In

    I run a side hustle selling my photos online for people to use as fake profiles for online dating. For an extra fee, I even offer custom voice messages and video calls. Everything was going smoothly until one of my regular clients messaged me: [I’ll pay you $15,000 if you meet up with him in person for me. You can keep whatever gifts he buys you, too.] Just as I was about to reject the offer, a photo of her ‘online boyfriend’ popped up on my screen. It was my absolute worst enemy. I stared at the screen, my face completely blank: [Are you telling me you’ve been using my photos and videos to date him?] 1 [Then you’re definitely being scammed, girl,] I replied earnestly. [Impossible,] she insisted. [He’s transferred me so much money. This is definitely the notoriously wealthy Sterling family heir.] Me: “…” I saved the photo of Arthur Sterling she sent me and ran a quick reverse image search. It was a generic paparazzi shot that gossip blogs had recycled a million times. I sent her the screenshot of the search results. She remained completely unfazed. [We’ve been working together for so long, why would I lie to you? My online boyfriend is 100% the Sterling heir.] I let out an exhausted sigh. Knowing the young master Arthur Sterling, his real-life romantic entanglements were already enough to drive him insane. Why would he have the time or energy for a fake online relationship? And especially… using my photos and videos. Forget falling in love with me through a screen; if he actually saw them, he’d probably throw up. I typed back to the client: [When he looks at my photos, what exactly does he say?] [He says I’m gorgeous! I mean, you are genuinely beautiful,] she paused, then added, [I even used your custom voice memo packages! Every time I send one, he transfers me $8,000!] Mother of God. If Arthur Sterling ever heard that sickly-sweet, high-pitched “baby voice” I put on for those recordings… he’d probably lose his appetite for three days straight. That confirmed it. The guy on the other end was absolutely, categorically not Arthur Sterling! Thinking about this, I went back and reviewed all the photos and videos I had sold to this client. The photos were standard, pretty selfies. But the videos… Lots of tight mini-skirts paired with cat-ear filters. …It’s fine. The guy wasn’t Arthur anyway. The client continued to beg me: [Please, babe, do me this one favor! I promise it’s completely safe! I already told him I’m not ready for any physical contact yet. And the meeting spot is a super crowded mall downtown.] When I didn’t reply immediately, she sent another frantic message: [If you really don’t want to stay, just show your face for one minute and leave! If you don’t, he’ll realize I’ve been catfishing him, and I won’t be able to milk him for any more cash!] A few seconds later, my bank app notified me of a $45,000 transfer. My fingers, which were hovering over the keyboard to type a rejection, froze. Then again… If this guy had the absolute audacity to use Arthur Sterling’s photo for online dating, how did he have the guts to meet up in person? Wasn’t he terrified of being exposed as a fraud? This girl might be able to pay me to act as her stand-in, but absolutely no one on earth could order Arthur Sterling around. Perfect. I’ll go see exactly what kind of freak this imposter is! I deleted my drafted rejection text. [Fine.] Looking at it objectively, this client was incredibly generous. Tsk. I bet the real Arthur Sterling isn’t even this generous. Terrified I’d back out, she quickly forwarded several screenshots of her chat history with the fake Arthur. It was an endless stream of Hubby kiss kiss and I only love my hubby. The chat was flooded with reaction stickers of cute kittens spinning, happy kittens, and whining kittens. Me: “…” The fake Arthur’s replies were incredibly consistent: [Baby, you’re so beautiful.] Transfer received. [Baby, you’re so cute.] Transfer received. … Transfer received. Transfer received. Transfer received. My god. This guy was a walking ATM. The client quickly dropped a location pin. [It’s at this mall.] I clicked on it. Oh, wow. The actual Sterling heir really did frequent this exact mall. It was very close to one of his family’s estates. Maybe I should… I pulled up Arthur Sterling’s contact in my phone. Is there any chance I could arrange for the imposter to run face-first into the real Arthur Sterling? That would scare him to death! Uh. I forgot. Arthur blocked my number. I silently locked my phone. 2 Following the client’s endless, neurotic instructions… I dressed up meticulously and arrived at the mall half an hour early to scope out the area. I never expected that I would actually run into the real Arthur Sterling here. He looked relaxed and indifferent, one hand casually tucked into his pocket. A girl was walking next to him, chattering away happily. Arthur wasn’t really listening; a lazy, detached smirk played on his lips. But the fact that he hadn’t shown any signs of annoyance the entire time was practically a miracle. I was stunned. It wasn’t until Arthur noticed me that his smirk vanished. He muttered under his breath, “What awful luck.” I heard him clearly, but my expression remained completely blank. The girl immediately linked her arm through Arthur’s, glaring at me defensively. “Who are you?” When I didn’t answer, she looked up at Arthur with a pitiful, victimized expression. Arthur scoffed. “Just some broke loser.” He wasn’t wrong. If I wasn’t broke, why would I be here meeting up with a fake Arthur Sterling for cash? I let out a dry, sarcastic laugh, my tone rising slightly. “Having the great Young Master Sterling despise me is truly an honor.” Hearing that, Arthur’s face darkened instantly. He crossed his arms, his words ruthlessly cutting. “Mia, can you even afford a single item in this entire mall?” “As long as you can afford them, that’s all that matters,” I smiled, pointing to a luxury boutique nearby. “Didn’t you buy me a bag from that exact store once?” The girl’s eyes widened in shock. “What is your relationship with him?” What relationship? We were each other’s first loves. Though dating this arrogant young master was easily the biggest mistake I’d ever made in my life. Arthur didn’t say a word, and I wasn’t in the mood to humiliate myself further, so I adjusted my bag and turned to leave. “Mia.” His tone was light and airy, but carried the exact same condescending, arrogant weight it always had. “Which poor guy are you scamming into paying your bills today?” I turned back. “Don’t worry, Young Master. So far, I haven’t managed to scam anyone more generous than you.” Of course, I wasn’t counting the money the client just transferred me. Arthur had been surrounded by sycophants his entire life; he never bothered hiding his emotions. Right now, for example, it was glaringly obvious he was in a terrible mood. Terrified he would intentionally ruin my upcoming meetup, I paused for a second and then decided to appease him. “You were right before. Someone like me will never be happy. But as long as you’re happy, that’s what matters.” Honestly, the whole “mortal enemies” thing was mostly Arthur’s one-sided hatred for me. I never liked making enemies, especially not with an ex who used to be incredibly generous with his money. But the young master, who was famously impossible to coax even when we were dating, was definitely not buying it now. He sneered, his words dripping with venom. “Don’t leave. I want to see exactly what kind of trash you’ve managed to hook this time.” I froze. I still didn’t know what kind of persona the client had established with the fake Arthur. What if she was playing the innocent, pure little flower? The whole thing would blow up in my face. With Arthur’s abrasive personality, he could expose me in two sentences. I swallowed my pride. “He’s not as handsome as you, and he’s not as rich as you. Young Master Sterling, why do you insist on humiliating me?” The girl next to him nodded in agreement. “Yeah, Arthur. Let’s just go.” Arthur didn’t even glance at the girl. His long, elegant fingers pulled a premium black card from his pocket. The girl took it, her entire demeanor instantly changing, and briskly walked away. “I’m going to go shopping then! Text me if you need anything, Arthur!” I smiled. “She’s cute.” Arthur ignored the comment, and showed absolutely no sign of leaving. He just stood there, staring me down. But he had always been like this—willful and unrestrained. In the past, when he had a high fever, I would pace around frantically, worried sick. He would just lazily grab my hand and smirk. “Want to see what 104 degrees feels like?” My eyes widened, my face flushing bright red instantly. Not from shyness, but from pure anger. “Are you psychotic?!” The corners of his lips curved up, and he couldn’t stop a muffled laugh. We eventually tried it, and he ended up in the ER. … They were all just immature, childish memories. I lowered my eyes. Arthur quickly lost his patience. He raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t just invent a guy, did you?” I stayed silent. His patience officially exhausted, he answered a call from a friend. “Yeah, I’ll be there in a minute.” Then he cast a final, sweeping glance over me, mockery swimming in his eyes. “Instead of carrying around that cheap, thirty-dollar canvas tote, maybe you shouldn’t have been so damn stubborn about your pride back then.” With that, his long legs carried him away, the distance between us growing rapidly. I watched his tall, retreating silhouette. Even his walk radiated a careless, arrogant swagger. After I broke up with Arthur, I packed up every single luxury item he had ever given me and shipped them all back to him. He only sent me one text in response: [I don’t collect garbage.] Then he blocked me. As for the luxury goods, mutual friends told me he threw them all into the massive dumpster outside his villa. My phone started pinging relentlessly with notifications. Ning: [Babe, are you there yet?] [Let’s just meet at the coffee shop, okay? I’ll text him and tell him I’m waiting for him there.] [Babe, answer me!] I reined in my emotions and replied: [Okay, I’m heading to the coffee shop now.] Once I got inside the coffee shop, I scanned the entire room. I texted the client: [Hey babe, bad news. Arthur Sterling isn’t here. Even worse news, there’s only one genuinely handsome guy in the whole place.] [Impossible! He just texted me that he arrived!] she replied frantically. I let out a long sigh. Until I saw that one incredibly handsome man walking directly toward me. The outer corners of his eyes tilted up slightly, and there was a small, striking red mole just beneath one of his eyes. He smiled warmly. He inexplicably radiated a dangerous, almost fox-like charm. I instinctively took a step back, instantly on guard. He spoke, his voice deep and magnetic: “Mia.” Me: “…” I quickly texted the client: [Isn’t your name Ning? You didn’t use my real name, did you?] She replied instantly: [Uh… yeah. I was too scared to use my real name, and since we were negotiating the photo prices at the time, I just accidentally gave him yours.] Me: [Brilliant.] I locked my phone, took a deep breath, looked up, and greeted the man. “Hi there.” Up close, the man was even more devastatingly handsome. His features were refined and delicate, but not feminine. He had a high, straight nose bridge, thin lips curled into a faint smile, and a subtle, sparkling stud in his left ear. He was significantly better looking than I anticipated; it was almost startling. Wait, he had absolutely no reason to use Arthur Sterling’s photos for online dating. I offered a polite, awkward smile. “You and the photos you sent me… look quite different.” He raised an eyebrow. “I’m fairly certain I never sent you a photo of myself.” Me: ? For a split second, my facial expression completely short-circuited. This guy never even sent a photo! How the hell was that client so absolutely certain he was Arthur Sterling?! “Then I must have remembered wrong,” I forced a strained smile, trying to suppress the urge to grind my teeth. “Do you mind if I run to the restroom first?” “Of course,” he smiled gracefully. Once in the restroom, I immediately dialed “Ning’s” number. The second the call connected, I unleashed a furious barrage: “I fucking told you! Your online boyfriend is NOT Arthur Sterling! He’s NOT Arthur Sterling! You wouldn’t listen, so I just assumed he was a normal catfish! Turns out the guy never even sent you a picture! What on earth made you think he was Arthur Sterling?!” The other end of the line was dead silent. After a long pause, a very distinct, very male voice blurted out, “Holy shit.” It was a guy! I was completely stunned. “He’s not Arthur Sterling? How is that possible? Then who is he?” he demanded, firing off questions. I was just as frustrated. “You’re asking me? Where did you even find this guy?! How can you be this incompetent?!” I thought I was dealing with a female scammer trying to milk a rich guy for cash. Who would have guessed it was a dude?! No wonder he needed to buy my custom voice memo packages! “What does he look like? Describe him right now!” The guy actually sounded more panicked than I did. Me: “Well, he’s actually incredibly handsome, so don’t worry about that.” The line went silent again. After a long, agonizing pause, his voice sounded completely drained of the will to live: “He doesn’t happen to have a small red mole under his eye, does he?” Me: “Yes, he does.” “AAAAAHHHHH! I’M DEAD!” …Now he realizes he’s dead. Where was this panic when he was scamming the guy for thousands of dollars?! If the guy he was scamming was actually Arthur Sterling, then he’d be dead. Knowing Arthur’s ruthless reputation, he’d literally skin the guy alive. After a while, he asked, his voice trembling in pure agony, “…What do I do now?” I was curious. “This guy seems a million times nicer than Arthur Sterling. Did you think Arthur was some kind of saint?” “No, you don’t understand. My older brother is infinitely more terrifying than Arthur. If Arthur wanted to destroy me, my grandmother could at least try to stop him. If my brother wants to destroy me, absolutely no one can save me!” Saying that, he started wailing again. My eyes widened in shock. “…What did you just say?” He was clearly in the depths of despair. “No wonder Arthur always calls me an idiot. Am I really that stupid?” Me: “…So what’s the plan now? Should I just make a run for it?” “No!” he hissed through gritted teeth. “If you run, he will 100% investigate. And he will 100% trace it back to me!” I was speechless. He blurted out a desperate solution: “Why don’t you just take over my WeChat account? We’ll just pretend you were the one talking to him the whole time! I mean, my brother is really good-looking, and he transfers a ton of money…” My pupils dilated in pure horror. Before I could answer, he started muttering to himself: “I had no idea he was this generous when he’s dating someone. Fuck, why is he so stingy with my allowance?” “Forget it,” I refused. Ever since I broke up with Arthur, I finally saw things clearly. What doesn’t belong to you will never belong to you, no matter how hard you try. Especially when it comes to these insanely wealthy, elite heirs. It’s better not to harbor any delusional fantasies about them. Besides, if I actually got involved with this man and Arthur found out, who knows what kind of psychotic episode the young master would have? Actually, no. He’d probably just mock the man: “Your taste is absolute garbage, getting involved with a woman like Mia.” I thought about this silently, then let out a heavy sigh. The voice on the other end of the phone whined, “I thought you guaranteed post-sale support!” They really are from the exact same family! This guy’s thought process was just as deranged as Arthur’s. I said flatly, “I’m hanging up.” “$75,000! I’ll add another $75,000!” he panicked. “I literally drained my entire Chinese New Year red envelope fund for this! You absolutely cannot let my brother find out!” Me: “…$150,000.” Him: “…You’re extorting me! You’re definitely going to milk a ton of money out of my brother anyway, do you really have to bleed me dry too?!” “Then never mind,” I said. “Deal!” he shrieked, completely broken. “What’s your brother’s name?” I asked. “Julian Thorne.” My head snapped up. “The Julian Thorne? Arthur Sterling’s older cousin who’s always abroad?” “Yes.” 3 I stayed in the restroom, smoothing out my dress, touching up my makeup, taking a deep breath, and finally walking out. Julian was waiting for me outside. To be honest, Julian’s demeanor didn’t exactly match his elegant, orderly name. He radiated a calm, calculated aura of someone who operated entirely outside the rules. He always wore a faint, polite smile, but he felt exactly like a cunning fox. Why would someone with this much wealth and power resort to online dating? I proactively looped my arm through Julian’s. He paused, a microscopic hesitation, and his smile deepened. “Do you want to go shopping first? Or grab something to eat?” he asked. “Whatever you want,” I replied. So, he took me from store to store, browsing endlessly. Unlike Arthur, Julian was incredibly patient, offering thoughtful feedback on how every bag and dress looked on me, and then flawlessly paying for everything. Arthur was too lazy to look. He would walk into a store, immediately sit down on the nearest plush sofa, stare at his phone, wait for me to pick what I wanted, pay the bill, and leave. It was incredibly bizarre. It felt like the universe had literally dropped a perfect boyfriend into my lap. But Julian was absolutely not as easygoing and accommodating as he appeared. People like him are the most dangerous. But right now… He even summoned two bodyguards to trail behind us and carry the mountain of shopping bags. “Mia, I made a reservation at that restaurant you said you wanted to try,” Julian said, a soft smile on his lips. “Let’s go!” I agreed enthusiastically. “Do you remember which one it was?” He lowered his eyes, his expression completely relaxed and casual. It was exactly the way a predator looks at prey trapped in its palm. …Which one? I have absolutely no idea! And I couldn’t exactly pull out my phone and text his little brother right now. The atmosphere instantly froze. My heart trembled, and I pressed my lips together tightly. I suddenly felt a chilling breeze on the back of my neck. I finally understood why the little brother said Julian was infinitely more terrifying than Arthur. Arthur’s emotions were written all over his face. If you pissed him off, the consequences were immediate and explosive. But Julian was entirely different. I couldn’t read him at all. Like right now, I had no idea what his sudden question was meant to imply. I opened my mouth, but before I could formulate a response, he smiled—a smile that didn’t reach his eyes—and his voice was warm and deep: “It’s fine. You’ve been busy, Mia. It’s completely normal to be forgetful. You’ll know it when we get there.” I nodded frantically, agreeing with everything. Julian was still a good guy! If Arthur had found out I forgot something important involving him, he would have cold-laughed and mocked me relentlessly for five straight hours without repeating a single insult. 4 When we arrived at the restaurant, the host immediately recognized Julian and greeted him respectfully: “Mr. Thorne.” He then escorted us to the most secluded, exclusive private dining room in the back. The ambiance was exquisite, complete with an indoor koi pond. I sat directly across from Julian. He had casually rolled up his sleeves, revealing his elegant, prominent wrists. The pale skin made the subtle blue veins even more striking. I didn’t reach for the menu. “You can order. I’m not a picky eater.” Julian chuckled softly. “Alright.” Taking advantage of the moment, I quickly texted the little brother: [You told Julian you wanted to eat at a Western restaurant?! I almost blew my cover! Are there any other crucial details I need to know? Tell me right now!] Suddenly, the door to the private room was pushed open. A painfully familiar voice rang out: “…Julian? When did you get back to the country?” My entire body turned to stone. Arthur clicked his tongue, his tone utterly bored. “I thought this room was empty, so I didn’t bother making a reservation. The other private rooms are full. Let’s just share.” I acted like a terrified quail, ducking my head as low as humanly possible. But I forgot that Arthur once told me he could recognize me even if I was burned to ash and scattered to the wind. … “Mia?” The lazy, bored voice instantly turned freezing cold. I didn’t dare lift my head. But unexpectedly, my phone lit up with a notification right at that moment: [Huh? That’s impossible. I never told my brother where I wanted to eat. I hate Western food! I told him I wanted the rustic iron-pot goose stew!] My pupils dilated in absolute horror. “Pick your fucking head up, Mia,” Arthur ground out through clenched teeth. Julian tapped his index finger lightly on the table. “Is that how you speak to your sister-in-law?” “What did you just say?” Arthur’s volume skyrocketed. Only then did I slowly, agonizingly lift my head, offering a pathetic, strained smile. “What a coincidence.” Then, following Julian’s lead, I added, “Little brother.” “Who the fuck is your little brother?!” Arthur instantly exploded, pointing directly at me and demanding an answer from Julian. “I dated her! Did you seriously not know that?!” Julian took a slow, elegant sip of his coffee. “I didn’t. Are you two still together?” “No, no! We haven’t been together for a long time! We broke up ages ago!” I quickly interjected. “Shut your mouth.” Arthur’s voice was heavy with suppressed, volcanic rage. Every single word sounded like it was being forced out through a grinder. He clenched his fists so tightly his knuckles turned bone-white. “Julian, did you seriously not run a background check on her when we were dating? Are you actually sitting here spewing bullshit, claiming you don’t know who Mia is?!” Julian sat with his legs crossed, his posture entirely relaxed. Even in this suffocatingly tense atmosphere, he managed a smooth, unbothered smile. “I do. So what?” The corners of Arthur’s eyes flushed red with fury. I sighed internally and spoke up. “Don’t be so angry. We just weren’t meant to be. Why don’t you have a glass of water and calm down?” Saying that, I prepared to stand up and pour him some water. “Mia.” Julian cast a light, warning glance at me. My chest tightened, and I immediately sat back down, perfectly still. Arthur stared in absolute disbelief. “You used to argue and fight with me every single day, and now you’re just obediently taking orders from him?! Did he brainwash you?!” Me: “…” Mostly, it’s just because Julian’s aura is significantly more terrifying. A long, agonizing silence passed. Arthur’s voice was slightly hoarse. “When exactly did you two get together?” I couldn’t answer that question. Julian answered calmly: “Late last year.” “When, exactly?” Arthur seemed determined to get the exact date, refusing to let it go. “The day after Christmas.” My facial expression completely froze. A cold, mocking sneer curled Arthur’s lips. “Mia. You are fucking unbelievable.” Arthur and I broke up on Christmas Day. But the person who started messaging Julian the day after Christmas wasn’t me! I remained completely silent, bitterly swallowing the truth, officially accepting the title of a ruthless, calculating woman who seamlessly monkey-branched from one cousin to the other. Seeing that I didn’t dare say a word, Arthur violently slammed the door and stormed out. 5 Julian, however, didn’t seem bothered in the slightest. He offered thoughtfully, “If the food isn’t to your liking, just let me know.” I nodded, trembling slightly. He gave me a surprised look. “Are you afraid of me?” When he smiled, the red mole near his eye was so dangerously captivating it was almost blinding. I parted my lips slowly: “…You ran a background check on me before?” He nodded, his tone casual and unhurried. “The family was curious about Arthur’s new girlfriend, so they had me look into it.” “Then why did you…” I was stunned. “…still get involved with me…” Julian’s smile deepened. “I thought my future sister-in-law was quite adorable a long time ago.” I awkwardly rubbed my nose. But I still felt like something was fundamentally wrong here. A long time ago? Before he even ran the background check? Wait, and what about his subtle test earlier?! Does he already know the person he was online dating wasn’t actually me?! That I’m just a hired stand-in?! I was terrified, not daring to speak recklessly. “Mia,” Julian said softly. “Come back to the Thorne estate with me next week.” I was shocked. “What?!” He offered a helpless smile. “You said before that you wanted to meet my family, and you brought it up multiple times. Did you forget, Mia?” My heart was pounding. Given my previous mistake, I didn’t dare give a casual answer. “…Oh, right.” “But I’m just… not quite ready yet.” I subconsciously gripped the hem of my shirt. “You mentioned before that your family requires a $4.5 million dowry. Mia, I can transfer that to your account at any time.” Julian looked at me with absolute seriousness. I was horrified. What insane, astronomical dowry?! Is that really what his little brother told him?! My voice shook. “No rush, no rush! Let’s just… take our time and see where things go…” By the end of the sentence, my voice was practically floating away. This entire family is absolutely terrifying. The atmosphere fell silent. Julian lowered his eyes, the smile vanishing from his face. He said softly, “I apologize. I was too impatient.” I froze for a second. Is he… actually deeply, genuinely in love? If he finds out that the person whispering sweet nothings to him all this time was actually a dude… And that I technically conspired with his little brother to deceive him… I rubbed my temples, feeling a massive headache coming on. The situation felt like it was spiraling completely out of control. Judging by his expression, Julian looked genuinely heartbroken. Sigh, it makes sense. If he wasn’t genuinely in love, why would he spend so much money on an online relationship? I quietly stood up. “I’m going to run to the restroom again.”

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  • The Kidnapper’s Choice: A Second Chance at Letting Go

    When the kidnappers forced Liam Sterling to choose one of us to save, he abandoned his childhood sweetheart and chose me. But I didn’t go with him. Because I knew he would regret it. It happened exactly like this in our past life. After I was rescued, Liam’s childhood sweetheart was photographed in compromising positions by the kidnappers. The night she returned, she slit her wrists and died. Liam pretended not to care and went ahead with our wedding as planned, but he subjected me to endless emotional abuse throughout our marriage. Seven years later, when I finally forced him to agree to a divorce, he lost control of his emotions and drove our car off a cliff on the way to the courthouse. Even in his dying moments, he was still blaming me: “We owed Mia. We were supposed to spend our lives atoning for her. What right do you have to seek a peaceful life for yourself…” So, having been given a second chance, I refuse to live that life again. 1 “Chloe, come with me.” The moment I realized I had been reborn, a kidnapper was pressing a knife against both my and Mia’s necks. They demanded that Liam choose one of us to save. Liam’s gaze darted between the two of us. After a fierce internal struggle, he made the exact same choice he did in our past life— He reached his hand out to me. But I firmly shook my head. “Liam, save Mia first.” In this life, I don’t want to owe anyone anything, and I certainly don’t want to carry the weight of another life on my conscience. Hearing this, Liam seemed to let out a sigh of relief. “Chloe, you are my fiancée. I should save you first. But since you said it yourself, don’t blame me.” Then, he grabbed Mia and left the scene as fast as humanly possible, as if terrified I would change my mind in the next second. But I’m not like him. I don’t make a choice and then spend my life regretting it. In our past life, it went exactly like this. He arrived with the ransom, but the kidnappers suddenly increased their demands, saying he could only take one person. Forced into a corner, Liam ultimately chose me. However, during the time we went back to gather more money, the kidnappers lusted after Mia, took compromising photos of her, and were just about to assault her. Fortunately, we arrived with the police just in time. But even though they hadn’t gone all the way, a situation like that is enough to completely destroy a girl’s dignity. Mia returned home a broken shell of a person. That night, after everyone fell asleep, she slit her wrists. By the time she was found, it was too late. When Liam heard the news, he didn’t show the slightest hint of caring. He calmly handled Mia’s funeral and gave her family a large sum of money as compensation. Even when I suggested postponing our wedding, he flatly refused. “Chloe, marrying you has been planned for a long time. We can’t let an outsider affect it.” Yet, it was this “outsider” he obsessed over for seven straight years. He only married me to trap me, to make me atone for Mia. But what did I do wrong? 2 After Liam and Mia left, I started trying to figure out how to save myself. Because this time, I wasn’t sure if Liam would actually come back. In our past life, he used the excuse of giving Mia a comforting hug to slip a tracker into her pocket. So even when the kidnappers moved us, we were able to find Mia immediately using the tracker. But just now, he seemed to have completely forgotten about that. I guess, from the very beginning, the only person he ever wanted to save was Mia. He only reluctantly chose me because of my status as his fiancée, terrified of the public backlash if he didn’t. After all, ours was just an arranged marriage; our relationship was mediocre at best. But Mia had been by his side through his purest, most innocent years. They were childhood sweethearts, best friends, and soulmates. It makes sense that the Liam of our past life regretted his choice. In this life, he finally got what he truly wanted. I was happy for him. At the same time, I didn’t forget to look for a chance to escape. I knew that when the kidnappers moved locations, they would pass by an auto repair shop. The mechanics there were notoriously fierce and brutal fighters. In my past life, when the kidnappers passed by, they tried to temporarily commandeer the shop. They didn’t expect the owner to be a total badass who stubbornly refused. The two groups grabbed whatever weapons they could find and had a massive brawl. The kidnappers probably never imagined they’d run into people even more ruthless than they were. Terrified of escalating the situation further, they eventually scurried away with their tails tucked between their legs. Later, when the kidnappers were arrested, the owner of the repair shop even came forward to testify against them. 3 Just like in my past life, they left one guy in the van to watch me. The rest of them charged toward the repair shop. My hands were tied behind my back. The kidnapper in the driver’s seat completely ignored me, thinking I wasn’t a threat. Taking advantage of his inattention, I leaned over and used my teeth to pull the door handle. I shoved the door open and ran forward like a maniac. My target was the same as the kidnappers’: the auto repair shop. I wanted to make a bet. A bet that they wouldn’t just watch someone die without helping. So, I blatantly charged right in. The repair shop was already in total chaos. I immediately spotted the young owner. His features were sharp and defined, radiating an aura of unwavering righteousness. Combined with his agile, powerful fighting moves, he looked incredibly cool. Terrified of getting caught in the crossfire, I hunched over and sprinted toward him with lightning speed. But I used too much force and ended up tackling him straight to the ground. As I crashed into his chest, my face went pale with terror. “I-I’m so sorry.” I apologized incoherently. “Could you please, please help me?” The man glanced at me, his brow furrowing. The next second, he grabbed me and rolled several times across the floor. Then, with a loud CRASH, a heavy stool slammed into the exact spot we had just been lying in. If he hadn’t noticed it in time, I would have been seriously injured, if not worse. Still shaken, the kidnappers noticed I had escaped from the van. So, their objective shifted from taking over the shop to demanding I be handed over. The two sides faced off. I looked pitifully at the man beside me and whispered, “If you can save me, I’ll do anything you want.” He didn’t answer. Instead, he stared thoughtfully at the group of kidnappers. Someone behind him couldn’t help but warn him, “Noah, less trouble is better than more.” So his name is Noah. Receiving no answer after a long pause, my heart slowly sank. Forget it. Why force him? When the leader of the kidnappers yelled for me to come over for the third time, I took a step forward. But almost instantly, a hand clamped down on my shoulder. I was forced to stop. Noah stepped forward and announced to the kidnappers, “She’s under my protection today.” Perhaps even God was on my side, because the loud roar of motorcycles suddenly echoed from outside. A confident smile spread across Noah’s face. “My backup is here.” Hearing this, the kidnappers shot me a resentful glare, cursed under their breath, and left. My heart, which had been hanging by a thread, finally dropped back into my chest. I let out a long breath and suddenly felt the tension on my wrists loosen. Noah had cut the ropes binding my hands. 4 “My name is Chloe. Thank you so much for what you just did,” I said, reaching my hand out to him. Noah, however, kept his eyes fixed on my wrists. The ropes had left deep, bloody welts that looked terrifying. “Let me clean that up for you.” I shook my head. “It’s just a scratch. It’s fine.” “Who was it just now who said if I saved her, she’d do anything I wanted?” “…” Ignoring my protests, he gently but firmly pushed me onto a stool and brought over a first-aid kit. “This might sting a bit.” I bit my lip, watching him intently as he carefully treated my wounds. A sudden warmth bloomed in my chest. I remembered in my past life, shortly after Liam and I got married, there was a time he came home drunk. As I was helping him back to our room, I casually mentioned he should drink less. He flew into a sudden rage and violently shoved me away. I lost my balance and crashed to the floor. The jade bracelet on my wrist hit the hardwood and shattered into pieces, the shards slicing deeply into my wrist. I screamed, clutching my bleeding wrist and crying out in pain. But Liam just stared at me coldly and said: “Does it hurt? It should. Mia suffered a thousand, a million times more pain than you, but she can’t cry out anymore. If she hadn’t tried to save you, she wouldn’t have been assaulted by those kidnappers! She wouldn’t have…” I just sat there on the floor, my face full of disbelief. My heart turned to ice, inch by inch. It took a long time before I found my voice again. “But the kidnappers took both me and Mia to threaten you! And you were the one who chose to save me first! Why are you saying all this to me now?!” The drunkenness on Liam’s face seemed to have faded significantly, but his eyes remained ice-cold. “Chloe, I was always against this arranged marriage. If you hadn’t told my grandmother you liked me, she never would have forced me to marry you.” “So, what you’re saying is, if I weren’t in the picture, you would only have had to save Mia. Is that it?” “Haha…” I suddenly burst out laughing. “Liam, you’re literally insane. You don’t blame the kidnappers, you blame me instead.” I stood up and went back to my room to bandage my own wounds. From that day on, no matter how much it hurt, I never told Liam again. And now, the man in front of me, afraid that I was in pain, was clumsily blowing air onto my wounds. My eyes stung. I closed them, took a deep breath, and asked a question I already knew the answer to: “What are you doing?” Noah looked up, his smile pure and genuine. “When I got hurt as a kid, this is what my mom used to do. Does it feel any better?” I nodded. “Yeah, much better.” Receiving validation, Noah continued what he was doing. But the atmosphere was soon ruined by someone else. 5 “Noah! I heard someone was causing trouble at your shop, so I rushed right over…” “Holy crap! Where did you find such a gorgeous girl?!” A tall man with a full sleeve tattoo walked through the door. The moment he saw me, his eyes lit up. “Wow, this is rare. I think this is the first time I’ve ever seen a girl this pretty at your place…” As the tattooed guy spoke, a bizarrely shy flush crept over his face. Seeing this, Noah stepped in front of me, shielding me. “Thanks, but it’s already handled. As for everything else, it’s none of your business. I’ll buy you a drink sometime.” The tattooed guy froze, then caught on. “Bro, now that you’ve got a girl, you don’t even have time for your bros?!” He haughtily turned his head away and let out a loud “Hmph!” He actually looked like he was pouting. Noah rubbed his temples, then pulled him aside and muttered, “Can you read the room? Go find somewhere else to be.” “Noah, is she your girlfriend?” “Does it look like it?” “Yeah! You guys look like a perfect match.” “Good to know you have eyes.” “I don’t care, you have to invite me to the wedding.” “You’ll get your invite.” “…” The two men muttered to each other a short distance away. Even though they intentionally lowered their voices, I could hear every word perfectly clearly. To ease the awkwardness, I pretended to be very busy, looking left, right, up, and down—anywhere but at them. A few minutes later, Noah managed to shoo the tattooed guy away. Once he was gone, Noah asked me, “Where do you live? I’ll take you home.” Perhaps out of pure selfishness, I suddenly didn’t want to go back so soon. Anyway, my parents were always busy with their own things. Even if I didn’t come home for a month, they wouldn’t ask about it. As for Liam, if my guess was right, he had probably been reborn too. Right now, he must be desperate to stay by Mia’s side forever. In our past life, during our seven years of marriage, he never once took me to any public events, and we never shared a bedroom. When people asked about me, he always kept a cold face, eventually turning me into a running joke in our social circle. In this life, I just want to stay as far away from him as possible. So I looked at Noah and pleaded, “Could you take me in for a few days?” I carefully pinched the corner of his shirt with my fingers and tugged it gently. Based on what I knew from both lives, he seemed like a genuinely good guy. Plus, he had the ability to protect me. If I decided to cling to him, would he refuse? Noah suddenly leaned his face close to mine. His gaze was incredibly intense and burning. “Little girl, if you keep acting like this, I might actually take it seriously…” Because he was so close, I could even smell the fresh scent of soap on him. I instinctively swallowed hard. Just as I was about to speak, a familiar voice rang out from behind me. “What are you two doing?!” It was Liam… He had arrived with the police. 6 “Are you okay?” Liam looked at me, and the concern in his eyes didn’t seem fake. I threw my hands up. “Do I look like I’m not okay?” Liam remained silent. Mia walked in right behind him. She glanced around the repair shop, which had already returned to normal operations, and asked bluntly: “Chloe, how exactly did you escape from those kidnappers? “As far as I know, there were six of them. Your hands were tied, and you didn’t know the area. I’m genuinely very curious…” What was she trying to imply? “Everyone knows the Vance family and the Sterling family are planning a marriage alliance, but both families are also eyeing that plot of land in the South District. The auction is in ten days, highest bidder wins. “And then, at the most critical moment, something like this happens, with an astronomically high ransom demand. Chloe, it’s really hard for me not to think the worst.” She suspected I hired the kidnappers?! I admit, in both of my lives, I have never been this speechless. In my past life, I felt truly helpless and sympathetic toward Mia’s tragedy. But in this life, I practically saved her. And the first thing she does after being rescued is turn around and bite me. It was truly chilling. I suddenly raised my hand and shouted loudly, “Officer! This person is slandering me!” And then, we were all taken down to the station. While waiting to be interrogated, Mia was relentless. “Chloe, why are you afraid to speak?” I sneered coldly. “Why should I speak to you? You’re not a cop.” Mia was momentarily at a loss for words. Liam couldn’t stand it and immediately stepped up to defend Mia. “Chloe, Mia just wants to know the truth so she knows what she should and shouldn’t say during the interrogation.” “What? You guys planning to lie to the police?” Furious, Liam stood up, pointing at me. “Chloe, you are completely unreasonable!” Noah, who had just walked out of an interrogation room, saw this and stepped right in front of me without a second thought. “Put your hand down.” His tone was flat, but it carried an undeniable, oppressive authority. Hiding behind Noah, I couldn’t see their expressions, but I could vaguely smell gunpowder in the air. I heard Liam demand, “Who are you to her?” Noah turned his head to look at me, the corner of his mouth slightly raised. He asked back, “Who do you think?” I looked up at his ridiculously perfect side profile, which was so close to me. As if possessed by a ghost, I used my thumb and index finger to make a little heart shape at him. Seeing this, Liam’s face instantly darkened several shades. Right at that moment, an officer called him in to give his statement.

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  • Taming the Ice King: A Million Dollar Mistake

    After chasing the cold, aloof campus idol for a month with no success, I tried a different approach and threw money at him instead. I didn’t expect him to get even colder, to the point where his only responses were “Mm” and “Ah.” Me: “Liam, I want to eat an apple. Peel it for me, but the stem can’t fall off.” Liam gave a simple “Mm” and silently picked up a paring knife. Ten minutes later, I picked up a gleaming, freshly peeled apple from the plate for the third time. With one light bite, the stem snapped off again. Liam violently stabbed the knife into the rolling apple, a rare look of impatience crossing his face. My heart skipped a beat. I was just about to tell him to stop when I suddenly saw strange lines of text appear in the air: [Ahhhhh! I’m witnessing an iconic scene! The devoted second male lead is furiously peeling apples!] [Chloe, do NOT tell him to stop! Let him peel! Let him peel for his life! Let him peel his feelings away! What he hates are the fragile apples and his own clumsy hands!] [Yes, yes, yes! And absolutely do NOT ignore him, or he will literally cry himself to sleep under the covers!] I froze, swallowing the words “Forget it, I don’t want it anymore” right back down my throat. Right now, Liam was crouching on the floor, his shoulders trembling slightly. For the first time, I felt a flicker of doubt: Was this 6-foot tall, notoriously cold and silent campus idol not actually angry, but… feeling wronged? I instinctively walked over and patted his shoulder. Liam slowly turned his head, his face wearing its usual “stay a thousand miles away” icy expression. “Do you want me to keep peeling?” I don’t know if I was influenced by the floating text, but I actually noticed the corners of his eyes were red, and a faint glimmer of tears shone in his eyes. A trace of guilt welled up inside me uncontrollably. I carefully chose my words for a compromise. “It’s too late today. Can we peel more tomorrow?” Liam’s expression froze, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the apple. I lowered my eyes and softened my voice. “Actually, I didn’t even want to eat an apple that badly. I just wanted…” Before I could finish the words “you to keep me company,” Liam stood up abruptly. He slammed the dusty apple onto the table with a loud smack and ground his teeth: “Chloe, do you think I’m incompetent? Are you disgusted by me?” Huh? The floating text also paused for a second. [Are my eyes playing tricks on me? In the original text, didn’t Chloe just get mad and go back to her room? Why is she coaxing the second male lead?] [Serves old Liam right for not having a wife. His girl is showing weakness, and he’s just pushing her away!] [Emm… Did you guys forget? The first time the second male lead used a coffee machine, Chloe mocked him, threatened to dock his pay, and was incredibly arrogant. It’s actually pretty normal for him to react this way.] [I remember that too! When Liam made breakfast and did laundry for Chloe, she complained relentlessly about it.] Uh, I think that actually happened. Feeling incredibly guilty, I looked away. A month ago, an accident resulted in Liam and me forming an unhealthy “sugar baby/sugar mommy” relationship. Wanting some privacy for the two of us, I specifically rented a luxurious, 3,000-square-foot villa not far from campus. But Liam became even colder than when I was pursuing him. My highly experienced friend gave me some advice: “You can’t spoil a man, babe. First, you have to let him know who’s boss. “Trust me, you have to do the exact opposite of what a wild horse expects. Break him in enough, and he’ll behave!” To “break” Liam in, I truly did go out of my way to maliciously make things difficult for him. The text was still scrolling: [Putting myself in his shoes, it really would be hard to feel any good intentions from her. I know I couldn’t.] [Sigh, I really don’t want my favorite ship to end in tragedy T~T] [Chloe, don’t give up! Actually, if you just tell him you like him, he’d go through fire and water for you! He’s just stubborn!] [Yes, yes, yes, I think so too.] Perhaps completely brainwashed by the floating text, I bit my lip, silently turned around, and pulled out a wet wipe. Then, mustering all my courage, I took Liam’s hand. The moment we touched, a jolt of electricity shot straight to my brain. Liam’s fingers trembled violently. But in the end, he didn’t pull away, letting me wipe his hand. “I’m not disgusted by you, Liam. “I never was. On the contrary, I… I really like you.” My ears were burning hot, but I couldn’t resist taking a quick peek at Liam. His expression was frozen, but my reflection filled his pupils. The text went wild: [Chloe is doing great!] [Say more, say more! He absolutely loves hearing it!] Feeling incredibly encouraged, and egged on by the text. With a deafening heartbeat, I pushed forward. “Let’s… let’s get along from now on. I won’t make things difficult for you anymore, okay? “But you have to be nicer to me too. Don’t always wear that stone-cold face.” After saying that, I quickly lowered my eyes. My heart was pounding like a trapped deer, waiting for Liam’s response. One second. Two seconds. Time seemed to stretch infinitely. As I was growing confused, a soft chuckle suddenly hit my ears. Liam forcefully shook off my hand, took a step back, and mocked me coldly: “A slap in the face, followed by a piece of candy. “Chloe, are you trying to play me to death?” [Uh, what?!! Feeling bad for Chloe for a minute!] [All I can say is old Liam is single through his own sheer effort. What a waste of that peerless face.] [I’m just waiting for Mr. Regret to regret this. Some people don’t even deserve a redemption arc.] Being repeatedly misunderstood completely evaporated the courage I had so painstakingly gathered. All that was left was grievance, humiliation, and rapidly erupting anger. “Yes! I am trying to play you to death!” I viciously threw the wet wipe at Liam, my expression and tone turning icy. “Other people who keep a campus idol as a sugar baby would have devoured them completely by now! What kind of idiot just occasionally teases you and then has to tiptoe around your bad moods like I do?!” Liam shook his head in self-mockery, wearing an “I knew it” expression. He raised his hand and unbuttoned his white dress shirt. Revealing smooth, defined chest muscles and tight, firm abs. “Isn’t this what you want?” I bit my lip. This was a scene I had eagerly anticipated in my dreams. But in this moment, I only felt utterly humiliated. Liam took off his shirt and, leaving no room for refusal, picked me up and set me on the back of the sofa. He grabbed my hand and forcefully pressed it against his heart. Looking me dead in the eye, he was incredibly aggressive: “Take it. Why bother with all those high-sounding words?” I had long since lost the mood to pay attention to the floating text. I struggled wildly, kicking and scratching. “Let go, you bastard!” Soon, several red scratch marks appeared on Liam’s chest. But the difference in physical strength between men and women is vast. From beginning to end, I was firmly trapped in his arms. He even managed to free one hand to pinch my chin. “Just because you’re different from other rich girls, and only occasionally make things difficult for me, I’m supposed to be eternally grateful to you?” Tears were forced to my eyes, but I stubbornly refused to let them fall. “I am different from other people! I genuinely wanted a future with you! “But not anymore. You… you’re just a bastard!” Liam let out a laugh, but it looked worse than crying. “See? When I act like a condescending bastard just once, you feel this terrible. “But when you use ‘genuine feelings’ as an excuse to trample me underfoot and act like a bastard in every possible way, you still expect me to be grateful. Based on what? “Chloe, I feel pain too.” His words were like a sharp knife plunging into my heart, completely destroying the sense of superiority my money had given me. I suddenly felt like a clown—pathetic and ridiculous. The dam broke, and tears poured out uncontrollably. I violently shoved Liam away. In a fit of rage, I used all my strength to slap him across the face, shouting the question that had always lingered in my mind. “Then why did you accept my money in the first place?! Taking my money and giving me the cold shoulder every single day—how high and mighty does that make you?!” After saying that, I didn’t dare look at his reaction. I fled, rushing into my room. [The sky is falling, my ship has completely sunk. The plot is back to square one. It seems our girl ultimately can’t escape the tragic female lead storyline.] [They both have mouths! Why can’t they just communicate clearly?!] [I feel like they did communicate clearly. They’re just both too stubborn for their own good. Sigh, the romance is dead, blame shared equally, let’s all go home.] [Wait, why is Liam gripping the paring knife with his left hand? He’s bleeding so much, and Chloe just wiped that hand for him.] [Holy shit, he made Chloe cry, and now he knows he messed up! If he doesn’t actually like her, I will livestream myself eating shit!] The text was scrolling furiously with discussion. But right now, I had buried myself in a soft pillow, sobbing uncontrollably. I completely missed the message about Liam’s finger bleeding. I don’t know how much time passed, but I felt utterly exhausted. Yet, every time I closed my eyes, Liam’s mocking expression became even clearer. Unable to resist, I checked the floating text. [Sigh, it’s 2 AM. Why is Mr. Regret still peeling apples?] [Just caught up on the thread. @IfOldLiamDoesn’tLikeChloeIWillEatShit, don’t worry, bro, you won’t have to eat shit. Old Liam loves Chloe to death. Later, when Chloe is imprisoned and killed by the male lead, it’s Liam who remembers her kindness, avenges her, and dies in a fire.] [@BetterLateThanNever, sis, don’t worry. I have self-awareness. Old Liam is like me—raised by a grandmother because our parents were awful. For people like us, who lack love, even a little bit of warmth will make us devote our entire lives to someone. Chloe accidentally helped Liam’s critically ill grandmother. Liam is definitely eternally grateful to her. He’s just too stubborn and can’t get past the ‘sugar baby’ hurdle.] [Sigh, I feel like they’re in a dead knot that’s hard to untie. Chloe thinks Liam is naturally cold, so she acts tough and makes things difficult for him. Liam thinks the rich girl Chloe just wants to play with him, so even if he likes her, he’ll always wear a cold face. It’s an endless loop.] Reading the text, I fell silent. I inexplicably remembered the night before I “bought” Liam. My friend, seeing right through me, whispered in my ear: “He’s a tough nut to crack. Even an experienced player like me couldn’t get anywhere. “I heard his family situation isn’t great. His grandmother is seriously ill and they need money badly. But he looks down on our kind of money.” I froze, then slapped myself hard. Why had I never thought to learn more about his family situation? He was barely 20 years old, yet life had forced him to fight in underground boxing rings and work as a restaurant server. And in his moments of absolute despair, I had to repeatedly shatter his pride in the most frivolous ways imaginable. Thinking about the tragic ending for both of us mentioned in the text, my emotions were incredibly complicated. Barefoot, I quietly walked to the door of Liam’s room. Right now, he was sitting in front of his computer. His left hand was wrapped in gauze, and he held a paring knife in his right. His long fingers moved deftly, quietly and intently peeling an apple. My heart suddenly began to ache. Due to insomnia, I woke up very late the next morning. Liam was sitting at the dining table, seemingly having waited for me for a long time. Breakfast was as extravagant as always. Next to the toast sat three crystal-clear, peeled apples, complete with their stems. There also seemed to be two large jars of freshly made apple jam. I opened my mouth, but the apology ultimately didn’t come out. After eating in silence, Liam slid a document across the table. Along with the keys to the villa. “Ms. Vance, as of today, it’s exactly been one month.” His voice remained flat and emotionless. “After today, I will not be coming over anymore. Please understand.” An awkward atmosphere spread through the silent space. My chest felt like something was suddenly blocking it, making it hard to breathe. I didn’t have the courage to look at the contract he returned. Nor did I have the courage to ask him to forgive my absurdity and ignorance. I stood up and nodded calmly. “That’s for the best.” Liam clenched his fists. A moment later, he started clearing the dishes from the table. Watching his long fingers gently and skillfully handle everything. I felt incredibly sad. “Today is my birthday.” “I know.” [Waaah, what a tragic morning.] [@IfOldLiamDoesn’tLikeChloeIWillEatShit, come out and eat your shit. Absolute nonsense. You’re probably the only one who thinks this heartless man likes Chloe.] I sighed softly in my heart. It seemed he was determined to leave. “My family is throwing a birthday party for me tonight. There will be a lot of people there. Come back with me just this once. After today, everything from the past month will be wiped clean.” Liam paused, then said softly, “Okay.” The birthday party was held at the Vance family estate. Before Liam and I even walked through the door, we heard people gossiping. My rival, Sarah, was sitting in the middle of a crowd, looking arrogant as she spoke passionately: “I really don’t know what our Chloe is thinking. So many people like her, but she insists on chasing that campus idol.” “Which campus idol?” “Liam from University A, obviously. The one who looks all cold and noble, like he’s above mortal desires. But I heard a little rumor.” Everyone’s curiosity was piqued, but Sarah stopped talking. Once everyone gathered around, she smiled mysteriously and lowered her voice, though just enough so everyone could still hear: “I heard that campus idol Liam is a huge fake. He looks proper, but he actually loves money to death. A month ago, he was bought by a rich older woman in our circle for a huge sum! “And the craziest part is, that rich woman plays hard. On his very first day, Liam was covered in injuries and limping.” A collective gasp echoed through the living room. Then, the discussion became even more intense. I sharply noticed that Liam’s knuckles were white, and his face was turning a sickly shade of pale green. I was both sad and furious. The Liam I knew was a warrior who could snatch victory from the jaws of defeat in a boxing ring just to support his family. He was a saint who would rather go hungry himself to save a stray cat. He was a young man who, despite growing up in the mud, remained completely untainted, filial, and kind. Even though I acted foolishly, I had never physically harmed him. And the only way he would get injured was if he was hurt by an opponent in an underground boxing ring. I never thought that a whim while I was drunk would bring him so many vicious rumors. I strode over to Sarah and grabbed her by the hair. “How did you sneak in here? I don’t recall inviting you.” Sarah looked panicked for a second, then pointed at my sister, Mia, and screamed for help. “Let go of me! Mia invited me!” I looked at my twin sister, dressed in a Lolita dress, sporting twin ponytails, her face a little pale. She shrank back, looking incredibly innocent. “Sister, I’m sorry. I didn’t know you didn’t like Sarah.” The floating text suddenly scrolled wildly. [Chloe, don’t believe this wicked witch! She’s the psycho male lead’s accomplice!] [Same face, but why does it look bright and beautiful on Chloe, but so hypocritical on the evil supporting character?!] I froze for a moment, and Sarah broke free from my grip. “Why are you glaring at Mia?” She smirked triumphantly, looking down her nose at me. “You probably don’t know this yet, but that campus god you’ve been chasing around school has already been bought by someone else.” People around us started whispering. The looks they gave me instantly carried a subtle hint of strangeness. I raised my hand and slapped Sarah with all my might. I had gotten my nails done specifically before coming here, and five red marks quickly appeared on Sarah’s face. I sneered, “Do you not have a brain? You just believe whatever people tell you?” I looked coldly around the room. “Listen up. Liam is my boyfriend. If I hear any of you gossiping behind our backs again, we don’t need to be friends anymore.” Sarah held her cheek, laughing out of pure anger: “Boyfriend? “Keep dreaming! Does Liam even know you’re a couple? Today is your birthday, so where is this ‘boyfriend’ of yours?!” “You…!” I instinctively looked behind me, only to realize Liam hadn’t followed me inside. In an instant, I felt my momentum deflate. Of course. I had brought him nothing but pain and humiliation. Why would he get involved in this? Seeing me hesitate, my rival became even more arrogant: “Chloe, there has to be a limit to how much you’re willing to humiliate yourself! He’s probably acting like a lapdog in some rich woman’s bed right now!” I bit my lip hard, my chest heaving with anger. I immediately started looking for the butler, wanting him to throw her out. Just then, a large, slightly calloused hand suddenly engulfed mine, pulling me behind him. Liam’s undeniable, icy voice rang out through the hall. “Miss, you might be mistaken. I was the one who pursued Chloe. “Today is Chloe’s birthday, and I want her to have a wonderful day.” His voice was slow and deliberate, but filled with overwhelming authority. “If anyone spreads rumors again, I wouldn’t mind getting the police involved.” Intimidated, Sarah stood rooted to the spot, not daring to say a word. The butler finally appeared with the security guards, and I instructed him to escort Sarah out. In front of everyone, I took Liam’s hand and led him upstairs. As Sarah was forcibly dragged out, she had a hysterical realization, struggling wildly: “Chloe! Were you the one who bought Liam?!” The text mocked her relentlessly: [The young couple literally just announced their relationship publicly, and she’s still talking about ‘buying’. Respect, okay?!] [How pathetic. She’s being dragged out with no escape, and she’s still struggling!] [Inexplicably feel like Sarah is kind of cute. If she knew she actually guessed right, I wonder how she’d react. Hahahaha.] [Newbie here asking a weak question: Am I remembering it wrong? I don’t think this scene was in the book. Wasn’t the original plot that Chloe and Liam had a falling out, and she gets imprisoned after her birthday?] [But I prefer this version of Chloe! I want her to be with someone where the feelings are mutual. Being imprisoned is not a good look for women!] Holding Liam’s hand, I had no time to read the text. Only I knew that from the moment he appeared, my heart rate had been skyrocketing. I had never wished for the staircase leading to my bedroom to be longer, just a little longer, as much as I did right now. But reality is reality. Soon, Liam and I arrived at the bedroom. As soon as the door locked. He proactively let go of my hand and took two steps back. After a moment of silence. “I’m sorry.” “I’m sorry.” We spoke in unison. He politely waited for me to speak first. “Just now… that was just a tactical move. Once this blows over, I’ll tell everyone we broke up. “You don’t need to feel pressured.” Liam looked at me quietly. The resistance and rejection from before had completely vanished. He really doesn’t like me. I smiled bitterly in self-mockery. “I didn’t think things through before. I never thought it would bring you so many nasty rumors.” Liam shook his head. “Chloe, you don’t need to apologize.” He frowned, seemingly struggling internally. Two seconds later, he turned his head away. “You weren’t the only one with selfish motives. A month ago, my grandmother, who I depend on for survival, was critically ill. I desperately needed that money to save her life. “And also, I really do… for you…” His tone was more candid and relieved than ever before, carrying a trace of gentleness. Hm? I pricked up my ears, waiting for the rest. But there was no more. Liam suddenly strode toward the TV. “Chloe! Come here, quick!” I approached curiously and leaned in. Liam pointed at an object the size of a thumb. “It’s a micro-camera. Why is this in your bedroom?” He looked at me as he spoke. The next second, he pulled my frozen, trembling body into his arms. “Don’t be afraid. Don’t be afraid. I’m here.” Buried in Liam’s chest, my body shook slightly. I closed my eyes, my mind full of the text that appeared the moment Liam pointed at the camera: [Oh boy, the countdown to the thrilling imprisonment plot officially begins!] [Our cute little Chloe probably doesn’t even know her adopted brother is the male lead yet. Because of his unrequited love, he’s rushing over with his ‘tools’ right now!] [Poor baby. I really don’t want to see a trash man abuse the female lead.] I understood every word written there, but strung together, it was unbelievable. My adopted brother, Arthur, was always gentle and refined, highly valued by our parents. It was hard to imagine him liking me, let alone wanting to imprison me. But remembering the look in his eyes when we were alone… Belatedly, goosebumps covered my entire body. “Liam, will you still protect me?” I grabbed the hem of Liam’s shirt, my voice muffled. He would definitely say no, right?

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  • The Traitor’s Tape

    For five years, I was deep undercover within an enemy intelligence network. When my cover was blown, I did the unthinkable to survive: I betrayed the man I loved, Arthur Vance. He managed to escape the ensuing ambush by the skin of his teeth, dragging a mangled, ruined leg behind him. When he was awarded the Medal of Honor, Arthur hobbled up to the podium on crutches. The commander asked him if he had any final requests the agency could fulfill for him. His eyes were as cold as a frozen lake. His thin, hard lips parted to say: “Bring Chloe back.” “And execute her.” Consequently, the agency raided the entire enemy compound but found no trace of me. All they found was a single VHS tape, left specifically for Arthur. 1. When Arthur received the tape, he scoffed with pure disgust. “This is just evidence of her crimes.” “She will be nailed to the pillar of shame in history.” His eyes were dark and cold, the cynical twist of his lips oozing profound mockery. His aide, pushing Arthur’s wheelchair through the park, spoke up cautiously. “General, aren’t you going to see what’s on it?” After receiving his Medal of Honor, Arthur had been promoted to General. His crippled leg had become a lifelong badge of honor. He let out another cold laugh. “Watch what?” “Watch how she sold out her country? How she wagged her tail and begged the enemy for mercy?” “I’m afraid it would dirty my eyes.” The aide choked on his words for a moment, remaining silent for a few seconds before bracing himself to speak again. “But… the envelope the tape was in specifically had your name on it.” “For Arthur Vance’s Eyes Only.” “This tape was meant for you.” Arthur paused. His narrow eyes squinted, a sharp, calculating light flashing across them. The enemy network hadn’t been completely eradicated; remnants were still out there. Perhaps there were clues hidden within the tape? “Hmph. Fine. I’ll see what kind of tricks they’re trying to pull.” “The main thing is, we still haven’t found Chloe.” “A despicable traitor like her… public outrage won’t be quelled until she’s dead.” He had to find Chloe, and then watch with his own eyes as she faced the ultimate punishment. 2. December 15, 1986, 3:10 PM. Chloe was stripped completely bare, shivering violently, her body covered in a horrifying mosaic of purple and blue bruises from the cold. A masked man in black stood nearby holding a bucket of freezing water. With a loud splash, he threw the water over Chloe’s shivering body. She jerked violently, her hanging hair freezing into icicles almost instantly. “Kill… just kill me!” She gritted her teeth, her lips purple as she growled weakly. But the masked man acted as if he hadn’t heard her, throwing bucket after bucket of freezing water over her. Until Chloe completely lost consciousness. Only then did a chilling, sinister voice ring out. “Drag her back. Don’t let her freeze to death.” A group of men then untied Chloe from the wooden post and dragged her away. The screen went black for a brief moment. Sitting in front of the screen, Arthur’s eyes were colder than the frost outside the window. “A sympathy play?” “Heh. This is just another one of their schemes.” “A traitor deserves every ounce of torture she gets.” Standing beside him, the aide pressed his lips together, his voice low. “General, should I keep playing it?” Arthur leaned back against the soft sofa, saying casually: “Play it.” “I want to see how long she can keep this act up.” 3. December 16, 1986, 3:10 PM. This time, the recording was in a dark, windowless room. Chloe was still completely exposed, her body now covered in overlapping whip marks. Her delicate, pale face had been ruined. The skin was split open, and blood continuously oozed from the deep gashes. “Are you going to talk?” It was that same sinister voice coming from off-camera. Chloe smirked, her eyes resolute, almost fearless. “Arthur has already wiped out your entire network.” “You guys are just grasshoppers at the end of autumn—you can’t jump anymore.” After saying that, she bared her teeth, letting out a series of wild, trembling laughs. “Keep hitting her.” As soon as the vicious command dropped, the whip struck Chloe’s body mercilessly again. She shuddered violently, biting down on her teeth so hard they looked like they might shatter. “We have already won!” “You… you all just… wait to die…” She refused to submit, even in the face of death, her beautiful almond eyes flashing with a sharp, ruthless light. Outside the screen, the aide was holding his breath, a look of deep pity crossing his face. “General, could Chloe have been framed…” He frowned as he spoke, his eyes no longer daring to look at Chloe’s slowly splitting flesh. Arthur shifted his gaze, giving the aide a look of pure disdain. “Just from this?” “You lack experience. You’re too naive.” “They’re trying to use my past relationship with Chloe to threaten me.” “Why would I ever feel sorry for a traitor?” 4. December 17, 1986, 3:10 PM. Chloe’s teeth were gone. Her soft pink lips parted to reveal nothing but bloody, raw gums. “Are you going to talk?” Still the same cold voice, not a trace of change from yesterday. Like a repetitive machine. Chloe’s head hung low. Blood mixed with saliva slowly dripped from her mouth. “I will never betray my country.” Her eyes were stubborn. Even without teeth, her pronunciation was incredibly clear. “Do you regret letting Arthur go?” That voice finally showed a hint of emotion. Chloe froze. The cold, hard look in her eyes finally softened into something warmer. “No. I don’t… regret it.” “He definitely hates me now. That’s okay. As long as he’s alive.” With that, she closed her eyes, two streams of clear tears rolling down her cheeks, washing away some of the blood on her face. The screen went dark again. The aide’s face was looking pale. “General, there must be more to this story.” Arthur frowned, but his sharp, falcon-like eyes remained utterly unfeeling. “She was undercover for five years before being discovered, after all.” “They wouldn’t just let her go.” “A fence-sitter like her… neither side would let her off easily.” As he spoke, a flash of contempt crossed his eyes. He leaned back against the sofa again, watching the tape. 5. December 18, 1986, 3:10 PM. Chloe was missing a hand. Blood was everywhere. Her face was as pale as a sheet of paper. “General!” The aide finally couldn’t hold back a gasp of horror. “They chopped off her hand!” His eyes turned red, and even his voice was trembling. As Arthur’s aide, he naturally knew the story of Arthur and Chloe. They grew up together, childhood sweethearts who were supposed to get married. Then, she received an urgent mission to go undercover, and vanished for five whole years. To everyone in their unit, Arthur and Chloe were the quintessential heroic, patriotic couple. He didn’t believe Arthur had absolutely no feelings left for her! On the sofa, Arthur’s hand resting on his knee tightened slightly. His knuckles turned white. A faint redness crept into the eyes staring at the screen. After a long while, he stretched his rigid body and let out a heavy breath. “It’s too fake.” “Where did they find this actress?” “Someone as terrified of dying as Chloe would have definitely given up all the agency’s secrets. Why would they chop off her hand?” “Ridiculous.” Despite his words, his gaze involuntarily drifted back to Chloe’s severed hand. The empty forearm ended abruptly. The blindingly red blood soaked through the gauze, dripping onto the floor, pooling into a mirror-like puddle. He frowned unconsciously, a dull ache throbbing somewhere deep in his chest. But quickly, the memory of her betraying him flashed in his mind, and that sliver of softness completely vanished. He exhaled, his eyes clearly conveying his thoughts: “Chloe, if you knew this was how it would end, why did you do it in the first place?” 6. December 19, 1986, 3:10 PM. Arthur finally believed that this tape was the enemy’s revenge against him. In the video, a naked man wearing a black hood climbed off Chloe. Then, another one climbed on. And it was still that same question: “Are you going to talk?” Chloe screamed in agony, biting down hard on the man’s ear. But without teeth, it caused him no pain. “Animals!” “I’m going to kill you all!” With a mouth full of blood, her screams cracked and broke. The hatred exploding in her eyes was like a raging fire, ready to burn the entire world to ash. Sitting on the sofa, Arthur violently tried to stand up, but his body tipped over, and he crashed onto the floor. “General!” The aide rushed over to help him. Arthur was shaking all over, his face even paler than Chloe’s. “It has to be fake! It’s fake!” “Chloe already surrendered! How could they still treat her like this?!” He gripped the aide’s sleeve tightly, tears pouring down his face. It felt like someone had violently seized his heart, suffocating him. He could only gasp desperately for air. The tape hadn’t stopped. Chloe’s screams continued. “Arthur! Save me!” “Save me!” “Arthur… waaah…” Her helpless cries were like a knife, slicing his heart apart piece by piece. He crawled all the way to the screen, his hands tightly shielding Chloe’s body, sobbing uncontrollably. “Chloe, where are you?! Where are you?!” “I forgive you! I forgive you! I’m coming to save you!” “Wait for me…” He pounded fiercely on the screen, hating himself for not being able to reach through it. No matter how much he screamed, those animals wouldn’t stop. Not until they had tortured Chloe half to death did they finally relent. And by then, Arthur had completely passed out in front of the screen. 7. When he woke up again, Arthur couldn’t bring himself to hate Chloe anymore. He would rather be betrayed by her a hundred times over if it meant she was alive and well. “Where is the tape?” He lay in the hospital bed, his voice hoarse as he spoke. The aide looked at him with heartbreaking pity, trying to dissuade him. “General, don’t watch it anymore.” “I think… Chloe must have perished.” “Today is already December 30th.” It had been over ten days. Chloe’s chances of survival were practically zero. Arthur’s chest clenched in pain, his eyes turning red. He tried desperately to hold back his tears, but they broke through anyway. “Show it to me.” He commanded, masochistically. “General…” The aide tried to protest again, but Arthur cut him off fiercely. “Show it to me!” “Chloe is definitely still alive!” His eyes were wide, filled with a stubborn, desperate obsession. The aide sighed and finally continued playing the tape for Arthur. 8. December 20, 1986, 3:10 PM. Covered in wounds, the light in Chloe’s eyes was completely gone. She was like a lifeless slab of meat, tied to the wooden post, entirely at their mercy. “Are you going to talk?” That voice sounded again. Chloe didn’t speak. Her shriveled, bloodstained lips moved, but in the end, no sound came out. “Suffering all this just so you don’t implicate Arthur… is it worth it?” “He escaped. He’s going to get promoted, get rich, and live a life of luxury.” “And you?” This was the classic interrogation tactic—using the soft approach when the hard approach failed. Arthur’s grip on the bedsheets tightened, his breathing stalling. In the video, Chloe’s eyes stared blankly at the ground, but the corners of her mouth twitched up into a relaxed smile. “If my cover was blown, how could Arthur possibly survive?” “It’s better that I play the villain, sever his attachments, and win him a sliver of a chance to live…” After saying that, she closed her eyes, tears mixing with blood as they rolled down her face. Lying in the bed, Arthur wept a river of tears. He raised his hand and slapped himself viciously across the face. “Arthur Vance! You bastard!” “Why were you so stupid?!” “Why didn’t you take Chloe with you?!” “The one who should be tortured is you! IT’S YOU!” Arthur sobbed until he passed out again. 9. In his dreams, Arthur returned to the time before they went undercover. On the training grounds of the military base, he was sweating profusely under the blazing sun. Under the large tree bordering the field, Chloe, her hair in two thick, shiny black braids, was fanning herself while holding a piece of watermelon, waiting for him. Whenever this happened, his comrades would always tease him. “Arthur, hurry up and get over there! Don’t make your little wife wait too long.” “Yeah, the sun is so hot, what if she gets a sunburn?” “You’d be heartbroken.” They threw comments back and forth, and Arthur felt an incredible sweetness in his heart. He could always catch the hints of envy in his comrades’ words. He wiped the sweat from his forehead and grinned at them. “Stop joking around. When you guys settle down, you’ll have someone to care for you too!” His words brought a wave of laughter. “Look at him, he’s already treating her like his wife.” “Everyone on the base knows Arthur is going to marry Chloe eventually. It’s just a matter of time…” As they ran off, Arthur quickly sprinted toward Chloe. “Were you waiting long?” “You silly girl, it’s so hot. Why did you come out here?” Arthur wiped the sweat from Chloe’s forehead with an aching heart, then snatched the fan from her hand to fan her himself. Chloe’s eyes curved into a gentle smile, handing the watermelon to Arthur. “Arthur, you must be thirsty, right? Hurry and eat this, I just took it out of the fridge.” “It’s still cold.” She offered the watermelon to Arthur like it was the most precious treasure in the world. Arthur took it, snapped it cleanly in half, and handed one half back to Chloe. “Let’s eat it together.” Chloe took her half. They shared a smile, and before even taking a bite, the sweetness had already reached their hearts. That day, under the shade of the tree by the training field, they ate watermelon, laughed, and played, happy as if they had fallen into a jar of honey. But happy days are always fleeting. And dreams, eventually, must end. In his sleep, tears unconsciously fell from Arthur’s eyes. Oh, how he wished he could live in this dream forever, and never, ever wake up.

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  • The Brother Who Took My Place

    My fiancé was incredibly busy; almost everything fell to his brother. From delivering contracts to proposing, from choosing our dream home to picking out a wedding dress, there was no sign of him, even three days before our engagement. His brother told me, “Ms. Harrington, my brother acts this way because he has a woman he loves but can’t have. The walls of his room are covered with her pictures, please don’t mind.” I minded very much. So, at the last minute, I swapped fiancés with his brother. He didn’t object, even happily saying he’d attend the engagement party. But on the day of the engagement, my fiancé was nowhere to be found. When I finally found him backstage, he was locked in a fierce brawl with a man who bore a striking resemblance to him. “You knew I’d been in love with her for years, why didn’t you tell me she was the one I was supposed to marry?” “Why should I tell you? I have just as many photos of her in my room as you do. Brother, you taught me: if you want something, you go after it yourself.” 1 “The contract… isn’t it with you?” I frowned at the young man in front of me. He was handsome, alright, but he didn’t seem very bright. “Uh… this is my own contract for later. Your marriage contract got… eaten by the driver on the way.” He stammered, and I looked at him suspiciously. A week ago, I’d added Liam Vaughn, my fiancé-to-be, on social media. It wasn’t until this morning that he sent his first message: [Been a bit swamped lately. My brother will be passing by your company this afternoon. I’ve asked him to drop off the contract. If it’s all good, just sign it and send it back with him.] I replied with a “Got it.” In the afternoon, sure enough, the front desk announced someone was here to deliver a contract. But the man who walked in had a rather nonchalant expression until our eyes met, and he suddenly sprang up from the sofa. Then, holding the contract, he claimed it was lost. “I’ll text your brother and ask him to send another copy.” I couldn’t help but feel a little annoyed. Was the Vaughn family trying to make a statement? We’d confirmed the arranged marriage a month ago, and I hadn’t even met the elder son. Now, the younger son couldn’t even deliver a contract without losing it. Were they trying to intimidate me? Frowning, I was about to text Liam Vaughn. I, Stella Harrington, wasn’t desperate for this marriage alliance. There was no need to make things so awkward. “No, wait!” The man hurriedly cut me off. “I’ll bring the contract tomorrow. Or, how about I treat you to dinner first, and I can tell you the contract details on my brother’s behalf?” I looked at his flushed ear tips, then at the watch on my wrist. I nodded, agreeing. While waiting for our food, he suddenly seemed to make a decision and began introducing himself. “My name is Ethan Vaughn, I’m 6’2”, weigh 162 lbs, I work out regularly, and I have abs…” I frowned, cutting him off. “Does this have anything to do with the contract?” His face flushed even redder, and he looked at me with a hint of grieVaughn. “It doesn’t seem to have anything to do with it, but you’ll be my sister-in-law soon, so I wanted to introduce myself…” I was speechless. Looking at his rather pitifully handsome face, that inexplicable annoyance suddenly vanished. “Alright, go on.” Ethan, however, fell silent. He just stared at me quietly, then suddenly spoke. “Ms. Harrington, did you… change your name?” I blinked. “No… Oh, yes.” If a stage name counted. He let out a long breath, then stopped chattering, and ate in silence. Though he wasn’t talking, his eyes remained fixed on me. I felt a little uncomfortable under his gaze, so I focused all my attention on the food. Surprisingly, everything he ordered was what I loved. After dinner, he took out his phone. Thinking I’d have to add him eventually anyway, I didn’t refuse. But after I got home, I still messaged Liam Vaughn. [Didn’t receive the contract. Please send another one tomorrow.] It took a while for him to reply. [My brother told me. Apologies, he’s always so clumsy. He’ll resend a copy tomorrow.] I sighed, remembering Ethan’s intense gaze, and then Liam’s cold, unwilling-to-say-more attitude. I didn’t reply. 2 The next morning, I saw Ethan downstairs. He was holding a folder, leaning against the car window, looking as if he’d been waiting for a long time. When he saw me, his eyes lit up. “Ms. Harrington.” He walked over quickly, his steps a little rushed. “I’ve brought the contract.” I reached out to take it, but he put it behind his back again. “No rush. How about you accompany me to pick out the wedding rings first today?” I paused. “Is that what your brother wants too?” I was about to lose my temper, but Ethan’s tone was sincere. “Can’t be helped, he’s busy.” Thankfully, Ethan was quite humorous and handsome. He chattered away with me on the drive, lifting my mood considerably. He took me to a high-end design store, which surprised me. I knew the place; my friend had her wedding ring custom-made there. But the lead time was very long, and for arranged marriages like ours, it was usually just a formality. “Ms. Harrington, how long the lead time is depends on how much money is put down.” Ethan was serious. “I can get you your desired ring within three days.” When it came to measuring the size, before I could figure out how to get Liam Vaughn’s size, Ethan had already extended his hand. I stared, dumbfounded. He grinned at me, showing his teeth. “Ms. Harrington, my brother and I have very similar builds. If it fits me, it’ll definitely fit him.” Suppressing a strange feeling in my heart, I twitched my lips. What a good brother, taking care of everything, and seemingly happy about it. The store assistant hadn’t quite heard what we said and looked at me enviously. “Your boyfriend is so good to you. He’s handsome and rich. Our boss usually doesn’t take urgent orders. How much did he pay to cut the line like this…?” Another assistant chimed in. “The lady is also beautiful, like that celebrity I used to watch on TV. A handsome man and a beautiful woman. Your boyfriend’s eyes are practically glued to you.” No one dislikes compliments. My face flushed, and I instinctively wanted to explain. “No, he…” Before I could speak, Ethan leaned in. “Thank you, we’ll pick up the rings in three days.” An unfamiliar scent enveloped me. Ethan stood behind me, one hand casually resting on the counter. Although he maintained a respectable distance, I could smell the faint scent of cedar mixed with soap on him. Behind the assistant in front of me was a mirror. At first glance, he seemed to be half-embracing me, truly like a couple deeply in love. Watching the intense gaze of the man in the mirror as he looked down at me, my heart suddenly skipped a beat. Before I could turn around, he sat up straight. “Let’s go.” After choosing the rings, I brought up signing the contract again. But the moment it was opened, my gaze froze. Ethan Vaughn… I frowned, looking up at him. “Why isn’t it Liam Vaughn’s name?” Ethan blinked, then leaned in to look, his cool, fragrant scent growing stronger. The distance was so close I could even see the tiny hairs on his face. “Oh dear, I messed up again.” I almost suspected he was doing it on purpose. He frowned, annoyedly rubbing his head. “I’m so clumsy, I messed this up too. Ms. Harrington, you’re not angry, are you?” A hint of manipulation. I looked at his tightly pressed lips and pitiful expression, and all my anger instantly vanished. “Never mind. I’ll just sort it out with your brother later.” But he shook his head. “My brother is too busy. You can sign the contract when you meet him later.” I nodded. “That’s the only way.” He added, “But my brother won’t have time recently. He even gets annoyed when I text him. Ms. Harrington, you should wait until he contacts you about it.” I choked, feeling that something wasn’t quite right. But looking at his sincere eyes, I couldn’t put my finger on it. “Alright, I understand.” Seeing me agree, Ethan’s lips curved slightly. “Then I’ll bring you to pick up the rings in three days. See if they fit?” What else could I say? I could only nod in agreement. Three days quickly passed. Apart from Ethan sharing a bunch of useless daily updates with me, Liam Vaughn’s social media was dead silent. 3 I was used to it. It was an arranged marriage, after all. In our circle, it was tacitly understood to be just a nominal connection, binding the interests of the two families. There really wasn’t much to talk about with a stranger. It was Ethan, on the other hand, who made me wonder if he was interested in me. Every day, it was “Good morning, Ms. Harrington,” “Good night, Ms. Harrington.” After breakfast, I stepped out, and sure enough, saw Ethan’s handsome face. “I’ve brought the rings.” He pulled me towards the car. A strange feeling settled in my heart, looking at his intimate, eager expression. The car door opened, revealing a flurry of flowers and balloons, and I froze completely. Ethan took the ring from the passenger seat, knelt on one knee, his eyes sparkling. “Ms. Stella Harrington, will you marry me?” My mind didn’t process it at first. “What?” A flicker of guilt crossed Ethan’s eyes. “Come on, Ms. Harrington, an arranged marriage needs some ceremony too, how can we not have a proposal?” Without another word, he took my hand and tried to put the ring on. I stared, dumbfounded, as he fumbled three times, his fingers trembling, unable to get it on. Sweat began to bead on Ethan’s forehead. “Did your brother ask you to do this too?” Seeing him so nervous, I actually felt like laughing. Ethan was silent for two seconds, then squeezed the ring as if deflating. “No, he didn’t say anything. I just wanted to make it up to you myself.” “How can a girl get married without even a proposal?” I hummed, then took the ring myself and slipped it on. Ethan’s eyes shone as he watched me. Then, he put the men’s ring on his own finger. Faced with my confused gaze, he said, “I’m just trying it on to see if it fits. I’ll give it back to my brother when we get home.” However, he dragged me around shopping all day, paying for everything, and that ring remained firmly on his finger. That night, after much thought, I still messaged Liam Vaughn. [Did you receive the ring?] Liam Vaughn replied quickly. [Yes, I got it.] I let out a sigh of relief. It seemed I was overthinking things. But over the next month, Ethan almost single-handedly managed everything. He appeared at my door every day. Picking out our future home, planning the engagement party details, he even found the officiant for the engagement ceremony. The officiant smiled, eyes crinkling. “I’ve never seen such a meticulous groom. You’re truly blessed.” I twitched my lips, watching Ethan bustle about, but said nothing. The date grew closer, but I still hadn’t met the legendary fiancé. Almost everyone assumed my fiancé was Ethan. Who would have thought that my actual fiancé and I still hadn’t met? Even our messages hadn’t gone beyond my last query about the ring. Until three days before the engagement party, I finally texted him, feeling a bit exasperated. “We at least need to take the engagement photo for the poster, right?” Even the wedding dress, Ethan had accompanied me to try on. When he paid, a crowd of sales associates surrounded me, praising me like a blooming flower. But I couldn’t feel happy. I knew that in an arranged marriage, neither party needed to feel genuine affection. But such a cold, dismissive attitude still irritated me. This time, Liam Vaughn replied quickly. [Apologies, I truly forgot due to being busy recently. See you tomorrow.] 4 I sighed, tossing my phone aside and rubbing my temples. Ethan’s messages kept popping up. [Sister, I found a stray cat at the villa entrance. Its eyes are round, and it reminds me so much of you.] [Typo, it looks so much like you.] The strangeness in my heart grew, and I didn’t reply. Recently, Ethan had become increasingly clingy. That peculiar feeling was as if we were the young couple about to get married. I decided to keep my distance from him. Even if it was an arranged marriage, with Liam’s attitude, it would likely be like most arranged marriages in our circle after the wedding—we’d each do our own thing. But I didn’t want to mess with his brother. The next day, I quickly got ready and went to the bridal shop. On the way, I thought about the envious looks of the sales associates when I tried on dresses, and their expressions when they looked at Ethan. A mischievous anticipation grew in me. I wondered what their faces would look like when they saw that the person coming for the engagement photoshoot wasn’t the same one who accompanied me to pick out the wedding dress. I sat in front of the bridal shop’s floor-to-ceiling window. Liam’s message still said he was on his way. [I’m here. Remember to bring the contract.] I texted him. He replied with “Got it.” But I waited and waited, and Liam Vaughn still didn’t appear. Just as I was growing extremely impatient, a Maybach slowly pulled up in the distance. Through the window, the man who had just gotten out of the car and I made eye contact. He got out of the car and walked towards me. 5 My phone chimed, but I didn’t open it. I just frowned, watching Ethan, who had already walked up to me. “Why are you here?” He chuckled. “I live nearby. Just came to see your engagement photos with my brother. How is it going, alright?” I didn’t speak. Ethan looked around, his surprise a little exaggerated. “How come he’s not here yet? Oh, perhaps my brother hasn’t been around this area for a long time and doesn’t know it’s rush hour now.” My mood soured even more. He sat down opposite me, unabashedly staring. “Ms. Harrington, my brother acts this way because he has a woman he loves but can’t have. The walls of his room are covered with her pictures, please don’t mind.” I froze. “What?” Ethan covered his mouth, looking a little apologetic. “Didn’t anyone tell you, Ms. Harrington?” I shot up from my seat. I could accept my fiancé having a sweetheart, but I couldn’t accept him being deeply in love with someone else, hiding everything, and still being with me. Moreover, I didn’t want my future marital home to be plastered with photos of another girl. I pulled out my phone. “Thank you for telling me this. I’ll make things clear with your brother. I do mind this. Let’s just call off this marriage.” My family wasn’t short of other potential alliances, and I had truly been at my wits’ end with Liam Vaughn’s attitude lately. Liam Vaughn’s message was still on my phone. [Apologies, Ms. Harrington, I left early but I’m still stuck in traffic. I’ll be there in about half an hour. Please wait a little longer.] I typed a reply. [No need. Don’t bother coming.] Someone gently pulled my wrist. Ethan’s dark eyes stared fixedly at me. “Ms. Harrington… no, Stella, the Vaughn family isn’t the only one who can marry into the Harrington family.” 6 I paused. Ethan’s voice seemed to possess a captivating charm. “Stella, I’m not inferior to Liam Vaughn in any aspect, and I’m also of marriageable age.” His words were almost an open declaration. I looked at him in silence. “You like me?” Although it was a question, I was certain. I wasn’t a fool, and I’d never lacked suitors since childhood. Ethan’s behavior these past few weeks had been unbelievably obvious. The man opposite me smiled. His smile was beautiful, his eyes crinkling, like a cunning little fox. “Yes, I do. If the marriage alliance were with me, the two families would still cooperate. Would that be alright?” My heart skipped a beat. After two seconds of silence, I nodded. “Let’s discuss it with both sets of parents.” Even if I didn’t marry into the Vaughn family, there would be the Davies or the Blackwood family. The next potential fiancé might be even worse than Liam Vaughn. In any case, a fiancé who was so handsome, liked me, and was so proactive… accepting him wouldn’t be a bad thing. Ethan’s breathing quickened slightly, and he took a sudden step closer. “Really?” I nodded, not missing the wild joy in his eyes. “I’ll tell my dad right away.” As he pulled out his phone to call, he reached into his pocket and pulled something out. Then, he put it on his own ring finger. I stared, dumbfounded. Wasn’t that the ring? Liam Vaughn had said Ethan had already given it to him? “Yes, my brother is truly insufferable. He still hasn’t taken Ms. Harrington seriously, and Ms. Harrington is too kind to complain.” “Dad, to appease the Harrington family’s anger, I’ve decided to sell myself to them.” “Don’t worry, Ms. Harrington has already agreed. I’ll behave myself.” My lips twitched. Looking at Ethan, who was seriously spouting nonsense, I felt like laughing. I also called my dad. The person for the arranged marriage wasn’t important to him; what mattered were the connections and benefits the Vaughn family could bring. He had no objections either. After hanging up, I saw a message from Liam Vaughn. [What does this mean? Apologies, Ms. Harrington, I apologize for being late, but marriage is not a child’s game. I hope you can understand, for the sake of our families’ cooperation.] [I will make it up to you later. I’ll be there in ten minutes.] Ethan took my phone, strutting like a proud rooster, and pressed the voice message button. “Brother, you don’t need to come. The family alliance hasn’t ended. Ms. Harrington decided to switch partners.” The phone rang, and for the first time, I heard Liam Vaughn’s voice. It carried a hint of anger. “Ethan, stop messing around. Give the phone back to Ms. Harrington.” Before I could speak, Ethan eagerly explained. “Seriously, we’ve already gone in for the wedding photoshoot. Don’t bother coming. That’s how it is.” He hung up. Then, he suddenly buried his head in the crook of my neck. I was startled. Ethan shivered, giggling. He was like a cat who’d stolen a fish, so happy he was practically bouncing. I stopped trying to push him away, letting him nuzzle me. Emotions can be contagious, and I started to feel a little happy too. After all, compared to the always distant Liam Vaughn, whom I’d never even met, I preferred this manipulative little puppy in front of me.

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  • Queen of Green Tea

    I was a master in the art of seduction, a professional femme fatale. Now, I was a ‘green tea’ side character in a novel, destined to be cyberbullied to death. The Kingston University gossip forum was plastered with a photo of me and the male lead, Alexander. [Heard Alex has a crush on someone. Don’t tell me it’s her?] [Get ready to watch Cinderella marry into the Sterling family fortune, folks.] The girl fueling the speculation in the comments was my own roommate, Isabelle. She smiled sweetly at me. “You should totally just confess to him. It’s not like he has a girlfriend.” A line of text, visible only to me, scrolled past my vision: [The male lead doesn’t have a girlfriend, but he has a fiancée!] [The female lead is so kind! She knows the side character has a crush on the male lead, so she’s hiding her identity as his fiancée.] [Side character, stop dreaming. The male lead only has eyes for his roommate.] [As soon as this clown confesses tonight, the male lead will officially announce the female lead as his girl.] A slow smile spread across my lips. I logged into a new account and posted a selfie, careful to keep my face hidden. The caption read: [My best friend keeps pushing me to confess to her childhood sweetheart. What should I do?] 1. Since the photo was tagged with a Kingston University IP address, it quickly circulated among the student body. The comments started rolling in: [You into him?] [Damn, that figure. I’m in love. Is your friend playing matchmaker? Trying to keep the good stuff in the family?] [Is he hot?] I replied to each one. To the first: [A little.] To the second: [Maybe. She’s always pushing us together, dragging me to every event.] To the third: [He’s gorgeous. But our families… we’re not exactly in the same league.] The replies turned into a chorus of good-natured teasing. [We all got into Kingston, who cares about family background? Unless he’s someone like Alexander Sterling, then yeah, maybe you should worry a little.] [Worry about what? Go for it, girl! Even if you break up, you might walk away with a multi-million dollar breakup check.] I liked every single one of their comments. The invisible text feed in my mind went wild. [Does she really think a thirst trap will seduce the male lead? Dream on. He only follows Isabelle.] [This post is so ‘green tea.’ Thank God the male lead won’t see it, or he might misunderstand the female lead.] This text feed—this constant stream of commentary on my life—was actually quite useful. It gave me a ton of inside information. A sly grin touched my lips. I might not know the male lead’s account handle, but I knew my roommate Isabelle’s. I tapped into her profile and went straight to her ‘following’ list. She only followed 36 people. [LOL, is she seriously trying to find his account? Pathetic.] [Give it up. You’ll never find it.] I scanned the list, eliminating one by one, until my eyes landed on a profile with a single follower: ‘momo.’ It was the only account that followed Isabelle exclusively and had a local IP address that never changed. I hit ‘follow.’ The text feed exploded. [WHAT THE HELL! You devious witch!] [How did she find it?!] Alexander’s account was a ghost town. Besides a few close friends from his inner circle, no one knew ‘momo’ belonged to him. When a notification for a new follower popped up, he frowned slightly. A Cup of Green Tea? Who was that? Shrugging it off, he closed his phone, figuring it was just a misclick. The text feed was gloating. [The male lead didn’t even bother clicking on her profile.] [That little green tea bitch. Her username fits her perfectly.] [This story is a slow-burn romance between childhood friends. The male lead is a man of honor; once they’re married, he’ll be completely devoted to the female lead. The side character’s looks won’t matter.] [The female lead thinks the male lead is cold to her and doubts his love. But later, when she sees him brutally reject the beautiful side character’s confession, all her insecurities will vanish.] [The clownish side character is nothing but a litmus test for their love.] I glanced at my bank account. Before I’d been transported into this world, Isabelle had convinced me to buy a dress for $20,000. She’d insisted I needed a “battle robe” for my big confession, claiming no one in their circle would be caught dead in cheap, off-the-rack clothes. Driven by a desperate need to fit in, the original owner of this body had gritted her teeth and bought an absurdly tacky, out-of-season designer gown. Now my balance was zero, and my credit card was maxed out. I stared at the empty account, my expression cold, and without a moment’s hesitation, listed the dress for sale online. Rule number one of my playbook: Never spend a dime of your own money on a man. 2. Isabelle’s social media was a masterclass in cultivating the perfect heiress persona. Her posts painted a picture of a flawless fiancé: handsome, wildly rich, and utterly devoted. Whatever she wanted, he provided in a heartbeat. Because their engagement was a recent, private family arrangement, she never revealed their identities. Instead, she’d frequently reward her most enthusiastic “shipper” fans with gifts in the comments. Her sappy, romanticized stories about their relationship regularly racked up tens of thousands of likes. Her account hadn’t always been so popular. It blew up after she posted about the “engagement gift” from her fiancé—a penthouse in the city’s most exclusive high-rise. I left a comment under the post: [I’m living for this! Your fiancé is so good to you, sis. I wish I could land a guy like that. What’s his type?] Isabelle loved when her fans gushed over her relationship, but my comment made her frown. She replied: [He has very high standards. He prefers girls who are accomplished in the arts, and they have to be brilliant, of course. You have no idea how hard I had to work just to get him to notice me.] Then, she liked another comment just below mine. [The most important thing is being from the same world.] Her followers went crazy in the replies. [An heiress who gave up studying abroad to get into Kingston for love!] [The vibrant, beautiful socialite vs. the cool, aloof childhood sweetheart!] [He just had to turn around to see she was always there waiting for him.] [It all paid off! After the engagement, his attitude completely changed. He used to be so distant, but now he gives her anything she desires.] [Her man’s family is loaded, and he’s already starting his own company in college. What a go-getter. Meanwhile, I’m just trying to get through the semester.] As the only one who knew the real story, I knew their actual romance didn’t start until after my character was written out of the picture. Theirs was a “marriage of convenience turned true love” plot. Right now, Alexander was only being attentive because of their families’ arrangement. Tsk. These two were using the original girl as a pawn. 3. A smirk played on my lips as I uploaded a new video to my profile: me, playing the piano. A top-tier seductress had to be well-versed in the arts of the upper class. Piano, equestrianism—I’d mastered them all. I replied to Isabelle’s comment: [I have lots of talents! And I’m learning new things every day~ All for the guy I’m crushing on.] My comment reeked of “green tea” one-upmanship, and plenty of people clicked on my profile out of curiosity. They filled my replies with sarcastic comments: [What a coincidence, ‘A Cup of Green Tea’ is a Kingston beauty too.] [I bet she just tagged the university IP. Show us your student ID if it’s real.] I ignored them. It didn’t take long for actual Kingston students to recognize the background of my first selfie as a campus dorm. The most-liked post on my page was still the faceless selfie with the caption: [So conflicted. My friend keeps pushing me to confess to her childhood sweetheart. What should I do?] Isabelle would never connect me to her timid, gullible little roommate. The original girl was utterly talentless. Not long ago, Isabelle had dragged her to a birthday party and pushed her to play the piano to get Alexander’s attention. The poor girl had stumbled through a cringey rendition of “Happy Birthday,” earning snickers from Isabelle’s friends until Alexander had stepped in to save her from further embarrassment. That was the moment the original girl had fallen for him. She had no idea her own roommate was his fiancée and, goaded by Isabelle, was about to walk into the most humiliating confession of all time. Alexander would announce his engagement on the spot, leaving her a laughingstock in front of the entire school. Afterward, the female lead, Isabelle, would write a viral post about her “insecure” but “beautiful” roommate, framing it as a tragic tale of unrequited love. This would paint the original girl as a scheming, social-climbing witch, and the resulting wave of cyberbullying would drive her to her death. The text feed flickered: [This side character is so manipulative. Is she just trying to get attention?] [It doesn’t matter. After Alex rejects her tonight, she won’t be a problem anymore.] Isabelle was about to message Alex when she noticed his follower count had ticked up by one. Suppressing a surge of irritation, she clicked on my profile. As she scrolled through my posts, a flicker of annoyance crossed her face. The silhouette in the photos felt disturbingly familiar. And my strategy for building a following was almost identical to hers: a mix of showcasing talents and vague posts about a secret crush. She knew Alex’s private account was a closely guarded secret, shared only with a few of their friends—a fact she’d flaunted in their group chat. She figured I must be some other heiress who’d caught wind of it. So, she went directly to my photo and tagged Alexander. [@momo, nice body. Your type?] Alex’s gaze lingered on the screen for a second, the photo flashing past his eyes. “Boring…” he typed back. Isabelle saw his reply and laughed out loud, quickly sharing the exchange with their circle as a joke. The text feed lit up: [LMAO, he saw her carefully curated photo and just replied ‘boring.’] [All that effort for nothing. So pathetic.] [She’s just a clown. Without her confession, Alex probably wouldn’t have even agreed to make his engagement to Isabelle public.] [He’s still secretly developing his game, ‘Mythic Realms,’ behind his family’s back. It’s in beta right now, and he doesn’t want any drama.] [They’ll fall in love after they’re married~ The male lead isn’t frigid at all. Once they’re together, he’ll drive the female lead crazy in bed.] [His family is super old-fashioned. They hate that he’s into gaming. His childhood sweetheart will be the only one who understands him.] [His game will become a massive hit, a national sensation. The first streamers who played it will make tens of millions.] I absorbed the information from the feed. A few days ago, I had already applied for the closed beta of Mythic Realms. Isabelle didn’t even know the game existed yet. This was the perfect way in. 4. I chose my in-game ID: A Cup of Green Tea. A smirk touched my lips as I multitasked, sending a message to Alex while grinding levels in the game. According to the novel, the male side character, Noah, was also in this beta. He was Alex’s roommate and ran in the same circles. He was the one who, after reading Isabelle’s sob story, had been the most vicious online, convinced the original girl was a homewrecker. Stupid, reckless, and self-righteous. The perfect tool. I spotted Noah, sent him a party invite, and then, at the very last second, kill-stole his mob. I switched on my mic and cooed, “Thanks, sweetie.” Noah’s hands fumbled on his keyboard, his triumphant grin freezing on his face. Meanwhile, Alex’s phone buzzed with a message from his best friend: [Dude, some chick in a voice changer just stole my kill! My server-first achievement is gone!] [I’m so pissed! This ‘A Cup of Green Tea’ is at the top of the leaderboard now! So shameless!] The text feed chimed in: [The side character’s tactics are so cheap! Who kill-steals like that?] [She’s obviously trying to get the male sidekick’s attention. Forget it, he only likes sweet, innocent girls.] After following Alex, I had sent him only one message: [Thanks for sticking up for me the other day, Alex~ Can I treat you to dinner tonight to say thank you?] Then, I posted a screen recording of my gameplay to my new social media account, making sure to tag #MythicRealms. The caption was simple: [This game feels incredible!] With its smooth gameplay, high-energy editing, and killer soundtrack, the video quickly gained traction. Alex saw the familiar ID and a flash of surprise crossed his face. He tapped on my profile picture. The first thing that autoplayed was my edited gameplay video, the thumbnail a triumphant shot of the kill-steal settlement screen over Noah’s character. The text feed buzzed: [LOL, he’s such a typical guy, only interested in the game.] [Suddenly I’m not worried anymore. He’s definitely not going to pay any extra attention to her.] [So what if she’s good at games? It won’t change anything.] As the video neared its end, he was caught off guard by a sultry, honey-sweet voice. “Thanks, sweetie.” The comments on the video exploded at that exact moment. Alex’s finger paused. He dragged the progress bar back a few seconds. And listened again. In the original story, he was a secret audiophile, a fact he only discovered in bed with the female lead. I had intentionally placed that voice clip at the end of the video. I was betting he’d watch the whole thing. The text feed was a stream of outrage— [What is this side character even doing, trying to sound so seductive!] Alex only allowed himself one more replay before closing the video, a model of restraint. On my profile, the only full-body picture was one of my back. The composition was perfect, showcasing an incredible figure without any obvious editing. He should have just exited the page. But his eyes lingered for a moment longer. Something about it felt familiar. He clicked on my newest video, a clip of me playing the piano, the fluid melody pouring from the speakers. The caption read: [If my confession fails tonight, I’m changing my username to ‘Lilith Wrecks Scumbags’.] He suddenly realized who I was. Isabelle had just messaged him. [Come to the dorm tonight. My little roommate has something to say to you.] Alex: [Lilith again? You haven’t told her about us?] Isabelle’s reply was vague: [A girlish crush is understandable. You can just turn her down privately.] He wracked his brain, trying to remember if he’d ever done anything to offend Lilith. The only memory that surfaced was the clumsy birthday song she’d played. In his mind, Lilith was just a pretty face who stammered whenever he was near. Online, however, she was a completely different person. By all accounts, he should have refused to meet me for dinner. And yet, he hesitated. First, he left a comment under my piano video: [You just started learning? You’re improving fast.] The text feed went into a frenzy. [??? Why is the male lead even talking to her?] [She’s such a fake! The female lead has been playing piano since she was a child. The side character is nothing in comparison!] I replied with a cute emoji, lying without a hint of shame: [Yep, I’m a quick study. My teacher says I’m a natural!] [I pick up everything super fast!] Alex’s gaze fell on the word ‘scumbags’ in my caption. His fingers hovered for a moment before he switched to our private chat and sent a reply. [I’ll pick you up at five.] Isabelle had told him to come at eight. He figured a quiet, early rejection would be more considerate. He refused to believe that the fleeting ripple of interest he felt would ever make him betray his fiancée. The male lead of the novel was a man of principle. Tonight’s confession was doomed to fail. All I needed to do was shift my position from ‘other woman’ to ‘innocent victim.’ I smirked and replied with another cute emoji: [Okay! (´。• ᵕ •。`)] Then I sent another message. [Can we not go somewhere too expensive?] [kitten_begging.gif] Alex raised an eyebrow. I sent him a screenshot, my tone pitiful. [My roommate said I had to buy a nice dress, and now I’m broke.] The screenshot showed Isabelle’s enthusiastic recommendation for a ridiculously overpriced dress, along with my payment confirmation for $20,000. Alex stared at the photo of the gaudy red gown and fell silent. Less than three seconds later, he replied. [Send me your account number.] I didn’t play coy. I sent it immediately. A moment later, a deposit of $30,000 hit my account. A triumphant smile graced my lips. The text feed erupted. [Not just a manipulative green tea, but a gold digger too!] [It’s his fiancée’s fault, so it’s only right for him to clean up the mess! It’s definitely not because he’s interested in the side character!] [She already sold the dress! And she’s still lying to him about it! What a bitch!] Meanwhile, Isabelle was busy replying to her followers, who were all dying to know what her mysterious fiancé was really like. She replied to a fan in her comments, [He’s not a fan of the spotlight, but I can try to find some pictures of us when we were kids.] That comment instantly shot to the top. Mine was right below it. The text feed was ecstatic: [Childhood sweethearts for the win!] I scoffed. If they were truly in love after knowing each other for ten years, they would’ve been together long ago. Isabelle wouldn’t need to resort to these games. Normally, a man who was already taken wouldn’t be on my radar. But since they had dragged me into their mess, all bets were off. 5. It was the first day of the closed beta, and not many players had spent real money yet. When Alex logged in, he saw a familiar name shoot up the top-spenders list. ID: A Cup of Green Tea. Sitting pretty at number two. Number one was Noah. Which pushed him down to number three. He remembered Lilith’s pathetic plea about being broke and felt a muscle in his jaw twitch. He knew her family background; there was no way she could afford to spend like this. It was one thing for her to play the game because she liked him, but it was another to watch her get sucked into reckless spending. The text feed was filled with comments calling me a spendthrift. Just then, Alex’s phone buzzed with a message from me. [I’m here.] 6. Alex had been waiting for a few minutes. His striking looks were already drawing scattered glances from passersby. When he saw me, he froze for a second. I had chosen a simple, form-fitting dress, my makeup understated with a nude lipstick. A soft breeze swept a strand of hair across my face. I closed the distance between us. “Sorry to keep you waiting.” A faint, alluring scent drifted from me. The male lead had a weakness for peaches, so I’d chosen a delicate peach-scented perfume. A simple anchor. From now on, every time he ate a peach, he would think of me. Alex’s gaze settled on my face again, lingering for a beat too long. His Adam’s apple bobbed. “Get in,” he said, his voice a shade deeper than usual. He took me to an exclusive private restaurant, the kind of place I couldn’t afford on my own. But I knew a man like him would never let a woman pay. I accepted the menu and ordered without hesitation. When the food arrived, his eyes widened slightly—I had ordered all of his favorite dishes. “Looks like my wallet is only good for one dinner with you,” I said shyly. He shot me a look. “Spend your money wisely. A few less in-game purchases and you could afford to eat.” So blunt. I met his gaze, cutting straight to the point. “How did you know I was spending money in the game? Do you play Mythic Realms too?” Alex gave a clipped, “Mm.” The conversation flowed easily after that. Most of the dinner was spent talking about the game. I guided the conversation, and he chimed in readily. The man across from me was relaxed, his features softened, clearly in a good mood. I didn’t rush a confession. I just chatted, subtly closing the distance between us. From the game’s soundtrack to our favorite music. From the game’s lore to our favorite books. It was uncanny; no matter what he brought up, I could keep the conversation going. He was noticeably more talkative. [How does the side character know so much about everything?] [He’s talking way more than usual today. It’s like he’s trying to test her, to figure out her limits.] A man’s curiosity and admiration for a woman are a dangerous combination. I shot him a fleeting glance. In my previous life, I was eight years older than him. If he thought he could figure me out so easily, he was sorely mistaken. It was only when the conversation turned to various musical instruments that I simply smiled and nodded. He looked puzzled when I didn’t respond. I looked at him, my expression a mixture of helplessness and peace. “These are a bit beyond me,” I said, lying smoothly. “My family couldn’t afford lessons for things like that. I only just started learning the piano.” Just as a look of apology crossed his face, I chimed in with a sweet, admiring tone, “But you know so much. You’re incredible.” The tips of his ears turned red. I watched him quietly. At his age, Alexander was no stranger to eager, young admirers. He’d seen them all. But I had no interest in playing the part of the lovelorn girl in the inferior position. I preferred to be in control. He was so engrossed in our conversation that he’d let his guard down. So when I stood up and moved closer, he didn’t even realize anything was wrong. His cool, clear eyes just watched me with a hint of confusion.

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  • After I Came Home

    Three years ago, the man I loved most sent me away, exiling me from the country. Three years later, I was finally allowed to return. But I no longer loved Donovan Blackwood. Still, everyone looked at me with warning in their eyes. “Aurora, are you still trying to get your claws into Donovan? Still trying to ruin things between him and Victoria?” “Three years abroad and you haven’t learned a thing. Donovan was too soft on you; he never should have let you come back.” “Exactly. A venomous creature like her belongs in a jail cell, or dead and buried overseas.” I just watched them in silence. But then… I heard a piece of news, and my world shattered. I started mumbling, over and over. “Mike.” “Have you seen my Mike?” “Please, don’t be dead.” “You promised you’d come back for me.” I was lost in a haze of madness for a long time. Finally, no one thought I was acting anymore. Donovan pushed through the crowd and held me tight. But his hands were trembling. “Aurora, what’s wrong?” “Who is Mike?” “Please, don’t scare me like this.” 1 I had been back in the country for less than an hour. My phone had already lit up with more than a dozen warning messages. “How dare you show your face here again?” “Didn’t anyone teach you a lesson over there? You’re begging for it.” “Too bad the plane didn’t explode and kill you.” … I ignored the messages. I just opened my laptop, went to my email, and quickly typed a new message. It was simple. “I made it back safely.” I hit send. The profile picture on the other end was a black void. There was never a reply. I stared blankly at the screen. Hearing footsteps, I shut the laptop. A woman with her hair in an elegant twist stood in the doorway. My mother. “Rory, why are you looking at your mother like a stranger?” I remained lost in thought for a moment longer. My mother wiped a tear from her eye and left. That night, I heard the sound of things crashing in the study. “Is she blaming us?” my father’s voice rumbled. “She’s the one who pushed Miss Prescott down the stairs. Victoria was in a coma for three months.” “Stop it,” my mother’s voice was sharp. “It’s all in the past. Donovan and Victoria are about to announce their engagement. We can’t have any trouble now, not at a time like this.” The hand holding my water glass trembled slightly. I turned and quietly slipped away. 2 The next morning. I sat hunched over my computer. Eventually, I went downstairs to get something to eat. My mother was in the living room, watching television. Suddenly, a breaking news banner flashed across the screen. #Major Announcement: Blackwood Enterprises confirms the engagement of Mr. Donovan Blackwood and Miss Victoria Prescott, with a ceremony to be held mid-next month.# I froze. An island engagement? A long-forgotten memory surfaced. I had once clung to Donovan’s arm, begging him. “An island is so romantic. When we get engaged, can we have the ceremony there? Please?” His expression was a mask of cold annoyance. “Aurora, can you stop being a child?” “I’m working.” Seeing his displeasure, I had immediately backed down, sitting obediently by his side. “Okay, okay, I’ll be quiet. You work.” The memory faded. I snapped back to the present. My mother saw me and jumped. “Rory, what are you doing downstairs?” “Are you going out? Where? I’ll come with you.” She was already signaling for a servant to get her purse, fumbling for the remote to turn off the TV. Watching her tense, frantic movements, I understood. She was terrified I would revert to my old self, clinging to Donovan like a stubborn shadow. But, Mom, I won’t. Never again. “I’m not going out. Just getting something to eat.” “What?” I had already grabbed a carton of milk and was heading back upstairs. As I reached the landing, my mother’s voice, full of surprise, called out. “Rory, you…” I took a steadying breath. “It’s okay, Mom. You can watch your show. I have work to do.” 3 After the Blackwood engagement announcement, the old stories resurfaced. The online rumors about how I had viciously pushed Victoria Prescott down a flight of stairs were everywhere. Half the internet was sending their blessings; the other half was cursing my name. “OMG, finally! They announced it! Wishing them a lifetime of happiness!” “Hehe, a match made in heaven. Can’t wait for the beautiful babies!” “They have to be happy forever!” … “And what about Aurora? Too scared to show her face? She must be dying of jealousy.” “Heard she was forcibly sent abroad.” “Such a wicked girl. Did she really think Donovan would love her if she got rid of the competition?” “All that scheming, haha, and for what? It all failed in the end. Bad people never win.” I stared at the screen, numb, then closed the browser. I never expected my father to bring Donovan home for dinner that evening. I was just coming downstairs when I saw him. I froze on the landing, my entire body going numb. Why was he here? In my family’s house? As the CEO of Blackwood Enterprises, he knew everything. He would have known the second I landed. No, that’s not right. The only reason I could come back at all was because he had given his permission. My father gestured for him to go to the study, then shot a look at my mother, silently telling her to get me out of sight before I caused a scene. I followed my mother to the living room with my head down. The study door was left ajar. If I just tilted my head, I could see his tall silhouette. A crisp black suit, sharp, stylish hair. He was always a king among men, exuding a power and charisma no one could match. I glanced over again. It seemed my father was looking for a document. Donovan didn’t even sit down. The tea on the table remained untouched. He took the file and prepared to leave. “Rory, darling, what do you think of this purse?” my mother asked, trying to distract me. I turned and looked. “It’s beautiful, Mom.” 4 Five minutes later, a pair of long legs strode out of the study. My mother stood up, politely trying to detain him. “Donovan, won’t you stay for dinner?” Of course, they both knew he would never stay. But no one in this city could afford to offend the Blackwoods. Donovan finally turned, and for the first time since he had walked in, his eyes swept over me. What kind of look was that? Cold. Indifferent. As if he were looking at a complete stranger. I sat frozen on the sofa, unmoving. The old me would have already rushed over, excitedly linking my arm with his, calling him “Donovan” in that sweet, pleading voice. But the me of today sat perfectly still, as if the man before me no longer held any importance. He gave a slight nod. “No, thank you, Mrs. Song. I have other matters to attend to.” He started to walk away, his gaze leaving me as if I were a piece of furniture. He took two steps. My fists clenched, and I spoke. “Wait.” The man who was two steps away paused. He went rigid for a second before turning back. My mother had already grabbed my arm in a panic. “Rory, what are you doing? Donovan said he’s busy.” I could feel the painful pressure of her fingers on my skin. His eyes darkened. “What is it, Miss Song?” So be it. I hadn’t called him by his first name. And he, in turn, called me “Miss Song” with chilling formality. Not “Rory,” not even my full name. I took a deep breath. “I have something for you. Just a moment.” I pulled my arm free and ran upstairs. I entered my password, opened the innermost drawer of my desk, and took out a square box. Then I ran back down. Downstairs, everyone was watching me with cold suspicion, as if I were about to perform some wicked trick. But when I held out the deep blue, velvet box, they seemed to understand. The coldness in my parents’ eyes instantly faded. “I asked your grandmother for this a long time ago. It doesn’t suit me. I’m returning it to its rightful owner.” It wasn’t what he thought it would be. He looked genuinely surprised as I held it out to him. The dark cloud on his face lifted. Inside the box was an antique jade bracelet, a Blackwood family heirloom passed down through generations. No one had ever approved of us, but his grandmother had adored me. On my twentieth birthday, she gave me this bracelet, a symbol meant for her grandson’s wife. For a time, I truly believed I would one day become Mrs. Blackwood. It was much later that I understood. Those were just fragile, unrealistic dreams. There was a long silence. Finally, he reached out and took it. Donovan left with the bracelet. My mother came over and gently patted my head. 5 A week later, I started my residency at City Central Hospital. My undergraduate degree was in medicine, and I’d spent two years at a research institute abroad. Still, my parents were worried. I knew they had people following me. I wasn’t angry. After all, Donovan and Victoria’s engagement was a delicate matter. I couldn’t be allowed to disrupt it. That would be disastrous for my family. I wanted to tell them they had nothing to worry about. The old Aurora was long dead. And the new Aurora didn’t love Donovan Blackwood. I never expected that, just a few days into my new job, Victoria Prescott would book an appointment with me. We sat across from each other, the air thick with awkwardness. She said she had a slight cough, but looking at her barely-there symptoms, I knew she wasn’t here for a diagnosis. She was here for me. I wrote her a prescription for some mild medication. She clutched the paper, not moving. She took off her sunglasses. “Aurora, you’ve lost weight.” I had no desire to reconnect with anyone from that old circle. Especially not Victoria, the woman I had once competed with for a man’s love. I had lost, spectacularly. I sidestepped her comment, my tone flat. “The pharmacy is on the first floor. I have another patient waiting.” She still didn’t leave, just stared at me. “You’ve changed completely.” “You used to be the loudest, most chaotic one among us. You were never this quiet.” A small, humorless smile touched my lips. “Miss Prescott, are you here to see a doctor, or do you have another agenda?” She fell silent. Putting her sunglasses back on, she left. But just as the door closed behind her, my eyes fell to her feet. Three years ago, she had tumbled down a flight of stairs. Her leg was severely injured, requiring multiple surgeries. She had lost a lot of blood. And I was the one who took the blame. We were the only two people on that floor at the time. I had desperately tried to explain that she fell on her own. No one believed me. Donovan had swept her into his arms, his face a mask of agony. “Donovan, I didn’t push her!” I had cried out. Before I could finish, he had kicked me, hard, in the stomach. “Get out.” It was the first time I had ever been hit. And likely the first time he had ever struck a woman. Within two days, I received a lawsuit from the Blackwood family’s lawyers. Victoria wasn’t a Blackwood, but Donovan was determined to get justice for her. I almost went to prison. I heard his grandfather pleaded on my behalf, and my sentence was commuted to exile. I subconsciously touched my stomach. He had kicked me with so much force. Even now, on rainy days, a dull ache still blooms in that exact spot. 6 The next time I saw Donovan Blackwood was at a bar. It was a departmental gathering for the hospital. Our private room was right next to theirs. One of the younger doctors, Dr. Rollins, had too much to drink and tried to get Victoria’s number as she passed in the hallway. Victoria slapped him across the face. The sound of the slap brought everyone out of both rooms. In the crowd, I immediately saw him, the man for whom a path always cleared: Donovan Blackwood. Victoria immediately threw herself into his arms. “Donovan, he harassed me!” Dr. Rollins tried to defend himself. “I just asked for your number! I didn’t even touch you, ma’am.” “And you have no right to hit me! If you don’t want to give it, just say no!” Across the hall, Donovan’s eyes turned black with rage. I clenched my fists. Our department head finally recognized him and rushed forward, grabbing Dr. Rollins. “Shut your mouth! Do you know who that is? That’s Mr. Donovan Blackwood, the CEO of Blackwood Enterprises!” “Apologize to Mrs. Blackwood-to-be, now!” The head’s reprimand seemed to sober Rollins up, but he was still too young and proud. He continued to argue his case. “Mr. Blackwood, I don’t believe an apology is necessary. I did not harm your fiancée. I swear on my life, I never laid a single finger on her. I’m telling the truth.” My nails dug into my palms. Rollins was an idiot. He didn’t realize that every word he spoke could cost him dearly. “Is that so? So you’re saying Victoria is lying?” Donovan’s eyes narrowed slightly. The sheer force of his presence was suffocating. The entire hallway went still. “Don’t just stand there, apologize!” our head hissed at Rollins, before turning to Donovan with a fawning expression. “Mr. Blackwood, he’s just a new graduate, he doesn’t know any better.” But Rollins, for some reason, stubbornly refused to apologize. “Take him to our room,” Donovan ordered one of his men with a flick of his chin. “What… what are you doing?” “Let go of me!” “This…” Not a minute after they dragged him inside, we heard the sickening thud of fists on flesh, followed by Rollins’s agonized cries. Our head was panicking, but there was nothing he could do to stop it. Everyone else just stared at the floor, too terrified to move. Who would dare to cross the most powerful man in the city? Rollins had helped me with my orientation paperwork when I started. I felt a pang of pity, but I was helpless. But then, something unexpected happened. Donovan let go of Victoria, his eyes scanned the crowd, and he strode directly toward me. He stared down at me. “Aurora. You tell me what happened.” For a second, I didn’t understand. But I believed Rollins, and I wanted to try to save him. “Mr. Blackwood, I believe Dr. Rollins. He already received a slap. Surely an apology isn’t necessary now.” As I finished speaking, a cold sweat broke out on my forehead. Then, a slow, cruel smile curved his lips. I thought, for a moment, that he believed me. But what he said next was: “Aurora, you put him up to this, didn’t you? Harassing Victoria? You’re still the same, always scheming to hurt people.” “If we hadn’t been here tonight, what would your drunken colleague have done to her? Would he have ruined her?” My mind went completely blank. Not only did he not believe me, he thought… He thought I was the mastermind. He was so close, his intimidating aura making it hard to stand. “You must be joking, Mr. Blackwood. I’m not that brave,” I managed, a bitter smile on my lips. But he wouldn’t let up. His piercing gaze made my stomach clench, a cold dread spreading through me. “Not brave? Three years ago, you were brave enough to push someone down a flight of stairs. Now you come back with this weak, fragile act. Do you really think you can fool anyone?” He slammed his hand against the wall next to my head, trapping me. I couldn’t move. My colleagues were terrified. Our head took a half-step forward, but Donovan’s sharp “Get back!” sent him scurrying. No one else dared to move. I looked at the familiar faces behind him, the same faces from three years ago. When Donovan had kicked me to the ground, they had worn the same expressions of smug satisfaction. I looked at the man in front of me, a man who looked like he wanted to kill me, who hated me to his very core. And suddenly, I felt so tired. I shrugged and smiled. And I confessed. “You’re right, Mr. Blackwood. It was me. I put him up to it. So stop hitting Dr. Rollins. Hit me instead. Let him go, and I’ll take his place. Go on, beat me to death.” My voice grew louder, more frantic. Rollins’s screams from the other room were growing more desperate. I don’t know where I found the courage. I stared him straight in the eye. “Did you hear me? I said it was me! So come at me! Use your fists on me!” I was so furious, a cornered animal, but tears were streaming down my face. My reverse psychology didn’t work. They beat Rollins until he was pulp.

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  • Meeting in the Rain

    The day Asher Ford won Best Actor, a ten-year-old video went viral. The camera footage showed a torrential downpour. He was gripping a young girl’s shoulders, his voice raw with anguish. “Iris, how can someone as cold-blooded as you even exist? Why don’t you just die?” Netizens meticulously identified the girl in the video—me. The girl who now gutted fish at the local market, working several jobs a day to pay off debts, living a life that was a complete wreck. They all laughed, saying I’d gotten what I deserved. Later, we met again on another rainy night. I had fallen, a mess on the ground, struggling to right my busted-up tricycle. Asher Ford stepped out of a Maybach, holding an umbrella over my head. Beneath its shadow, his face was a mask of indifference. “This,” he said, “is the pathetic life you’ve made for yourself without me.” 01 When that ten-year-old video started trending, I was at the market, gutting a fish. In the video, the girl’s side was to the camera. The rain had soaked her white dress, making her look fragile and thin, like a butterfly with a broken wing. After that hysterical, desperate question from the young man, she pried his fingers from her shoulders, her voice almost cruel. “Then you can just consider me dead.” The old fan at the next stall over was so loud that the sound from my phone felt distorted and distant. I handed the wrapped fish to a young customer. She glanced at me, then back at the video playing on her phone. “Do you… do you know Asher Ford?” she stammered. I lowered my eyes. “No.” A splash of grimy water, thick with the smell of fish, hit my chin. It was a smell I was long used to, but at that moment, it made my stomach churn. The customer’s eyes were filled with doubt. I managed a small smile. “An A-lister like him? How could he know someone like me?” 02 I shut down my stall in a hurry and fled back to my cramped little flat. It was the middle of the rainy season, and the roof was leaking, leaving disgusting patches of mold on the ceiling. I’d never gotten around to replacing my shattered phone screen. The signal was terrible. I had to refresh the page several times before it finally loaded. The hashtag #AsherFordsExGirlfriend was at the top of the list. Someone had already doxxed me. I clicked on the post. The photo showed me with my lips pressed into a thin line, my hands covered in the blood and gore of my work. Sweat-plastered strands of hair stuck to my face, along with a few stray fish scales. I looked haggard and utterly defeated. The top comment had tens of thousands of likes. [Damn! The doxxing speed is insane. Karma’s a bitch!] [Asher’s watch is worth 3 million, she guts a fish for 3 bucks. Instant karma, LMAO.] [My heart broke seeing our angel Asher begging her not to leave, that look of despair on his handsome face! Someone needs to go smash her pathetic little fish stall tomorrow!] The bowl of noodle soup on my table had gone cold and congealed. The greens were wilted; I hadn’t been able to sell them before closing. The sight of it made my stomach turn. Rain dripped from the ceiling, a maddening, incessant beat against my nerves. The screen went dark. I wiped my eyes roughly. The rain had been bad for business lately. If I didn’t open the stall tomorrow, where would the money come from? Suddenly, my phone rang. “Hello? Is this… Iris? The fishmonger?” The man’s voice on the other end had a strange tone. “Tomorrow night at 6, I need your most expensive fish delivered to The Crestmont. I’ll pay you a twenty-dollar delivery fee in cash. Don’t be late, you hear me?” A few of my regular customers had my number. This was a lifeline, enough to get me through tomorrow. “Okay,” I said, my voice hoarse. 03 The Crestmont was a private venue up in the hills. The rain was coming down hard, and the road was poorly lit. My wheel hit a deep pothole. I didn’t even have time to cry out as the handlebars were ripped from my grasp. The little tricycle tipped violently, throwing me to the ground. My right shoulder and hip slammed into the asphalt, a dull throb of bone that made me gasp. I reached down to check, my fingertips coming away wet. I thought it was mud. But in a flash of a distant streetlight, I saw the dark stain of blood. The unsold, rotting vegetables I hadn’t unloaded yet were scattered all over the road. I didn’t break down and cry. Instead, I limped to my feet and crouched down to clean up the mess. On the storm-lashed mountain road, a pair of bright headlights cut through the rain, getting closer. They sliced through the downpour, illuminating my miserable state for the world to see. A Maybach pulled to a smooth stop. Someone stepped out, holding a black umbrella, and walked over to me, shielding me from the rain. I looked up. And just like that, I was staring into the eyes of Asher Ford. He tilted the umbrella slightly, revealing his face. It was the same, yet not the same. His expression was blank, his thin lips parting slightly. “This is the pathetic life you’ve made for yourself without me.” An indescribable sorrow pierced my heart. My hand, gripping the tricycle’s handlebar, turned white. My nails dug deep into my palm. Yes. This was the tenth year since I had abandoned him. This was the pathetic, broken creature I had become, just struggling to survive. Raindrops slid from the edge of his tailored suit jacket. He saw the blood seeping through my pants leg. The ice in his eyes melted, replaced by something sharper, more urgent. He crouched down. The cuff of his expensive trousers dipped into the filthy puddle at his feet. Asher’s hand came to rest on my back, his thumb brushing over my sharp shoulder blade. He paused. “We’re going to the hospital.” A few scrapes. Compared to not being able to afford food after a doctor’s visit… I didn’t have a choice. I struggled, pushing him away. “I’m fine.” Asher’s outstretched hand froze in mid-air. He stared at my face, a bitter, angry smile twisting his lips. His voice was cold. “Ten years, Iris. You’re just as stubborn and ungrateful as you’ve always been.” 04 His words made the color drain from my face. Just then, a young woman got out of the Maybach. She walked straight to Asher’s side. “Asher, everyone’s waiting for us. What’s taking so long?” Her voice was soft, almost a purr. The space under the umbrella suddenly felt crowded. I took a step back. The woman’s eyes flickered over me, a look of disgust flashing across her face as if she’d seen something foul. It was gone so quickly I thought I might have imagined it. “If we don’t leave now, we’ll be late. It’s your celebration dinner tonight. People will think we’re being divas.” She linked her arm through his. Asher just stared at me, not resisting her touch. The two of them stood there together. His champagne-colored suit, her matching dress. They looked like a perfect couple. My carefully constructed walls of composure began to crumble. I looked down. “I’m sorry,” I mumbled. “I’m blocking your way.” I turned and scrambled back onto my tricycle, twisting the key. In the rearview mirror, the rain-swept world receded. It had been ten years. I thought I was over it. But in that single moment, the dull ache in my heart became a suffocating agony. I didn’t dare to stop, didn’t dare to look back. The thick fog of rain closed in, separating us completely. 05 The parking lot of The Crestmont was filled with luxury cars. I locked up my tricycle and pushed open the door to the private room. The people inside looked vaguely familiar. It took me a second to realize. They were my old high school classmates. The moment I walked in, the atmosphere froze. A dozen pairs of eyes raked over me, taking in my mud-caked rubber boots, my soaked pants, my wet hair dripping onto the floor. The face reflected in the glass was pale and makeup-free. “Iris?” The woman who had been with Asher stood up. A flash of disgust and excitement crossed her face. “So it was you back there.” Her smile widened. She turned to the others. “See? What did I tell you? Twenty bucks, and she comes running like a dog.” Her tone was light, but the words were dripping with contempt. Her face was unfamiliar, but her voice… suddenly, I knew who she was. After I broke up with Asher, I had gone through a period where anyone and everyone felt they could walk all over me. Sophia had dragged me into the school bathroom and held my head under the faucet. Her friends had pinned me down while she ground her heel into my hand. Then she’d crouched down, slapping me over and over. “You love pretending to be so pure to seduce Asher, don’t you? Go on, cry. Let’s see if he comes to save you now.” Ten years later, the memory still made my hands tremble. I fought back the wave of nausea rising in my throat. “Is there a Mr. Collins here? I have your order.” A man stood up. I recognized him. Mark Collins. He had been one of Sophia’s admirers back in the day. “Wow, Iris. Look at you. Is there even any point in living like this?” “Yeah, if I were her, I’d find a ditch to jump into. Or… I guess some things are easy to sell. Deliver a fish, and maybe something else on the side?” A wave of low, cruel laughter spread through the room. Someone whispered, “When Asher gets here and sees her looking like this, he’s going to puke.” At that, a look of pure, unadulterated pleasure crossed Sophia’s face. I had to get paid. I had to get out of there before Asher arrived. I swallowed my pride. I held out the fish. “Your order is here. Who’s paying?” Mark, trying to look like a big shot, pulled out his phone. “Fifty bucks. Keep the change.” He leered at me, his eyes roaming my body. “You’re cheap anyway.” Amidst a chorus of lewd chuckles, I pulled out my own phone, the screen a spiderweb of cracks, and opened the payment app. “This is a wild-caught yellow croaker. It’s five hundred dollars a pound.” 06 The laughter died instantly. Mark was the first to react. “What?! Five hundred a pound?!” Sophia frowned, her face a mask of disdain. “Iris, I know things are tough for you, but you can’t just scam your old classmates. It’s not like any of us have money to burn.” My patience was gone. “That’s the market price.” Mark’s face flushed with anger and embarrassment. He lunged forward and slapped my phone out of my hand. The old, fragile thing went flying. He gave me a hard shove. “You greedy bitch! Are you out of your fucking mind?!” I stumbled and fell. The black bag holding the fish hit a display shelf, sending a cascade of porcelain crashing to the floor. The expensive fish flopped wildly on the ground, its struggles spattering stinking water and slime everywhere. Sophia shrieked, staring in horror at a fish scale that had landed on her dress. “This is custom-made! Asher ordered it for me! Did you do this on purpose?” Someone threw a wad of napkins at me. “Do you have any idea how much that dress costs? You couldn’t afford it in a hundred lifetimes, you worthless trash!” Others chimed in. “People like her are just full of petty jealousy. Get on your knees and clean it up!” “She’s still the same as she was in high school. Poor, dirty, and pathetic.” The red tablecloth lay at my feet like a pool of blood. I reached for my phone, wanting to call the police. Someone playfully stuck out a foot, kicking the battered phone across the floor. The battery popped out. I scrambled to get it, but someone pinned me down. Every nerve in my body was screaming. Creeak. The door to the room opened. A tall figure was silhouetted against the light from the hallway. An expensive suit jacket framed a perfect physique. A pair of beautiful eyes found mine. There was no warmth in them. Only a cold, detached indifference. His gaze was as heavy as the storm outside, soaking the last tattered shreds of my dignity. The world went silent. I could barely breathe. “What are you all doing?” His voice was quiet, but it carried an undeniable weight. 07 I lowered my head and picked up the pieces of my phone. Asher stopped, the tip of his expensive shoe nearly touching my cheap rubber boot. Amid the stench of fish, I could smell the clean, woody scent of his cologne. His long, elegant hand opened, palm up. “Your number.” Every eye in the room snapped to us. Sophia bit her lip. “Asher, Mark was just trying to help an old classmate out, but she tried to take advantage…” Asher tapped his phone a few times. A cold, mechanical voice cut through her words. [Payment received: $3,000.] His face was unreadable. “I’m paying.” Under the weight of everyone’s stares, I avoided his eyes. “Thank you,” I whispered. My knee throbbed where I’d fallen. I staggered to my feet and turned to leave. Outside, the rain was coming down in sheets. It ran into my eyes, stinging. The cuts on my palms were starting to bleed again. At least I got paid. I let out a long, shaky breath. 08 The truth was, shortly after we broke up, my family went bankrupt. My father took his mistress and fled the country. He had already transferred all his assets. He didn’t leave a single penny for my sister and me. My sister’s health was poor, and over the years, she had only gotten sicker. I told myself that on my way to the hospital, I would buy her a pretty hair clip. The roar of an engine grew closer. That Maybach cut me off again. Asher’s face was dark. “Get in the car.” I said nothing. He frowned, letting out an impatient sigh. “Iris, do you have to be so stubborn?” People were starting to stare. He was a public figure now. A scene would be bad for him. Just as I was about to get in, my phone buzzed with a piercing ringtone. I fumbled to answer it. “Miss Miller? It’s the hospital. Your sister’s condition has taken a turn for the worse. You need to get here immediately.” A roar filled my ears. Those words shattered what little strength I had left. “What’s wrong?” Asher’s eyes flickered to my screen, and from my devastated reaction, he knew. “I’ll take you to the hospital.” I didn’t resist this time. I got in the car. In the hospital room, the nurse’s expression was full of pity. “We were able to stabilize her, but the kidney failure is progressing faster than we thought…” She paused, the unspoken words heavy in the air. “The money you paid last month just covered her basic treatment. The cost of the transplant evaluation and finding a match is… substantial. You need to start thinking about how you’re going to manage it.” I barely heard the rest. My mind was a chaotic mess. The beep of the monitor was a cold, steady rhythm. Lily lay on the bed, so small and fragile, the IV tubes like vines, tethering her to this world. So thin, so small, so young. Like a porcelain doll. I didn’t even dare to touch her hand. When I looked up, Asher was gone. I closed the door to her room and went to the stairwell. Every step felt like I was walking on cotton. I crouched in a corner, burying my face in my knees. And finally, I let myself cry in silence. For ten years, the only thing that had kept me going was my sister. But the mountain of medical bills was crushing me. What was I going to do? 09 Click. The stairwell door opened. Asher stood there. He saw my tear-streaked face and quickly looked away, shielding me from the view of the nurse behind him. He handed her something. “She’s not here. Could you please give this to her later?” He didn’t look at me again as he closed the door. I quickly wiped my eyes and went back to the room. The nurse handed me a few thin receipts. “The gentleman who was just here asked me to give you these.” She gave me a kind smile. “Also, your sister will be moved to our best private room today.” My hands trembled as I looked at the receipts. The pre-paid amount was a number that made my head spin. Ten years of bitterness. When we broke up, he had hated me. Hated me enough to wish me dead. But today, he had paid for everything without a second thought. I stumbled out of the stairwell and ran. His tall, straight back was just at the end of the hallway. “Asher!” My voice was breathless from running. The empty corridor was bathed in a sterile, white light that illuminated the detached expression on his face. “Thank you.” Meeting his deep, dark eyes, I clenched the hem of my shirt. “I’ll find a way to pay you back. I can write an IOU, with interest…” Before I could finish, he let out a short, sharp laugh. “Do you really think I care about the interest?” He took a step closer, his eyes like daggers. “Lily is like a sister to me. She used to call me her big brother. So swallow your pathetic pride. This has nothing to do with you.” I bit my lip, humiliated. Asher tossed a paper bag at me. “Antiseptic.” He turned and walked away without another word. Only then did I feel the stinging, burning pain in my leg. It was a scene that felt strangely familiar. Years ago, during gym class, I had scraped my leg and was sitting alone in the shade. A shadow fell over me. The sunlight dappled through the leaves, landing on Asher’s white shirt. He held out a paper bag. “This kind disinfects faster. It doesn’t hurt as much.” He had rolled up my pant leg and knelt at my feet, carefully cleaning the wound. His thin lips were set in a serious line, but they had a faint, reddish tint. On impulse, I had leaned in and kissed him. A light, fleeting touch. He had looked up, the tips of his ears bright red, but his gaze was steady. “That’s not how you do it,” he’d said. “Let me teach you.” But then… Everything had gone wrong.

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  • She Regretted It After I Stopped Funding Her

    I had supported Lara for seven years, and loved her for just as long. She finally agreed to be with me. But later, I discovered her heart belonged to the childhood friend she grew up with. She had always hated me, believing I used my money to humiliate and demean her. For ten years of our marriage, she remained utterly cold, eventually moving out to live with her childhood friend. I, alone in an empty house, wasted away and died of sorrow. Then, I was reborn back to the day I first decided to help her. Lara’s childhood friend stood defiantly in front of her, exclaiming to me: “Do you think being rich makes you so special? We don’t want your money!” I simply smiled. “You’re overthinking it.” “I’d rather burn this money than use it to help you.” 1 “Ian, you just flash your cash around, don’t you? You think money makes you important? Well, we don’t want it!” Luke, standing defiantly in front of Lara, brought me back to reality. My gaze met hers. Twenty-year-old Lara still had a hint of youthful innocence on her face, dressed in a faded linen dress. Yet, she was incredibly beautiful; tall and slender, with porcelain skin and eyes that shone like stars in the sky. She somehow made the humble dress look elegant. I instinctively took a step back, leaning against a nearby table to steady myself. How long had it been since I last saw Lara like this? Ten years? Or twenty? It had been too long, I couldn’t even remember. After all, that was a lifetime ago. Lara seemed surprised by my retreat. Luke continued his endless rant, but his words faded into a muffled hum. Everything unfolding before me was an exact replay of my past life. Back then, she refused my help, yet I insisted on giving it. I had liked Lara for seven years, and I knew her family was struggling. Her father was a gambling addict who’d always come home drunk after losing all their money, verbally and physically abusing her and her mother. Her mother, unable to bear the torment, eventually took her own life. Lara had spent her childhood scavenging, working odd jobs, and relying on scholarships to stay in school. From a privileged background, our paths should never have crossed. But her excellent grades earned her a scholarship to our private high school, which valued its academic reputation. Our circle at school was filled with young heirs and heiresses, rich kids who barely bothered with their studies, just drifting through each day, waiting to inherit their family businesses after getting some superficial degree overseas. Lara was different. She was focused, diligently studying in class and heading straight to work after school. Despite her poverty, she never acted ashamed, always carrying herself with an unyielding dignity. She was utterly unique. Like a beautiful, resilient wild orchid blooming in a greenhouse, standing apart from the pampered, cloying fragrances around her. That’s when I fell for her. I loved her, and I couldn’t stand to see her suffer. Back then, young and foolish, I’d often push what I thought was best onto her, with an arrogant sense of entitlement. She worked nights and couldn’t make breakfast, so I’d bring her packed lunches from home. “Lara, our chef makes the best Wagyu beef! You have to try it!” “And foie gras, my dad had it specially flown in, it’s amazing.” As an only child, I had always lived a life of ease, waited on hand and foot. Everyone around me spoiled me rotten, leaving my mind empty of real understanding. All I wanted was to give her the best. I completely overlooked whether she actually wanted any of it. Other students would jeer, “Ian, what does she know about foie gras, ha-ha-ha! She probably can’t even afford chicken liver!” I’d snap back, “What the hell is it to you all?!” I didn’t see Lara’s fingers clench tightly around the lunchbox, her knuckles white. After a pause, she handed the box back to me, her voice flat. “Thanks for the thought, but no thanks.” “Oh, don’t be like that, Lara,” a girl nudged her, winking. “If you get together with Ian, you’ll never have to work again. Go on, snag him!” “Yeah, then your dad can gamble as much as he wants, and won’t be after your tuition money anymore, ha-ha-ha.” Everyone burst into laughter. I slammed my hand on the table and shot to my feet. “Everyone, shut up!” The laughter died down. But Lara suddenly stood up and walked out. I chased after her, trying to shove the lunchbox back into her hands. “Lara, don’t listen to their crap. Eat your food, or you won’t have the energy to work tonight.” She stopped, turning sharply. I froze. Her eyes were filled with unadulterated hatred and disgust. 2 Memories fade quickly for teenagers. I soon forgot that incident and continued to pursue Lara. For her, I even started studying hard, getting into the same university as her. My father was ecstatic, doubling my allowance. At university, Lara became even busier. Her scholarship application fell through, and the poverty aid slot was snatched by a classmate with connections. At her worst, she could only afford a single bun from the cafeteria each day, filling up on free soup. I couldn’t bear it, so I offered to help her financially, but she refused. She worked three jobs a day, eventually collapsing from exhaustion on the street. That’s when I lost my patience, dragging her and insisting she take the money. “Lara, why won’t you take my money? What are you trying to achieve by working yourself to death?!” I went to her dean and forcibly paid her tuition. By then, I had matured a little, understanding the need to respect her pride. So, I’d always pull her to eat with me, claiming I couldn’t finish my food and asking her to share. When we went out, I’d pretend to have scored free tickets, bringing her along. Slowly, my relationship with Lara seemed to grow closer. I continued to support her until she graduated, and to make her happy, I even helped her childhood friend, Luke. After graduation, Lara started her own business. Her academic record was stellar; she and a friend had developed a stock-trading software model while in college, but they hit dead ends everywhere, unable to secure any investment. Seeing her so down, I simply asked my father to invest in her. I remember Lara was very quiet that night. As I held her, almost drifting off to sleep, she suddenly spoke. “Ian, why are you doing this?” At the time, I thought she was going to say, why are you being so good to me, so I complacently replied: “Because I love you.” “Lara, do you love me?” I held her hand. “I’ve been so good to you, if you still don’t want to be with me, you’re completely heartless!” Back then, I was only joking. But Lara didn’t say anything, and I assumed she was agreeing. That’s how we got together. Two years later, Lara and I got married. The wedding was a quick affair. Lara said she didn’t like too many people, so we only invited a few close relatives and friends. All of them were mine. From her side, there was only her. After the wedding, Lara remained distant. I was so incredibly foolish then; I thought it was just her nature. I’d pursued her for so many years, surely if I kept being good to her, even a heart of stone would eventually warm. But I never imagined her heart was truly unyielding. Because her heart, from beginning to end, belonged to someone else. In the third year of our marriage, our conflicts became irreconcilable. I couldn’t tolerate her day-in, day-out coldness anymore. I accused her of being in love with her childhood friend. She just looked at me with cold eyes, saying nothing. When I pushed her too far, she would simply storm out. Her silent treatment drove me to become increasingly obsessive and frantic. When she returned, I’d interrogate her, curse at her. During our most intense arguments, I’d blurt out hurtful things: “I wish I’d known you were such an ungrateful wretch! I might as well have adopted a dog; at least it would wag its tail at me!” For a fleeting moment, anger flashed across her face, then she quickly regained her composure. After that day, she stopped coming home altogether. Later, I discovered she had already been with her childhood friend. They had built a new life together outside our home, and even… She was pregnant with his child. All those years, she lived a complete and happy life with him. While I guarded an empty house alone, my heart full of love curdling into a poisonous, hateful brew. Lara’s business flourished, and she became wealthier than my own father. There was nothing I could use to get back at her. The only thing I had left was our marriage. I gambled my own life to spite her. I refused to divorce her, no matter how much money she offered. She had ruined me, and I wouldn’t let her off easy. The man she loved would forever be a clandestine affair. Her child with him would always be a bastard, born in the shadows. Lara didn’t dare sue me for divorce. She feared that a public marital dispute would impact her company’s stock value, and her board of directors would never allow it. And so, she and I dragged out this charade for ten years. For ten years, no matter how hysterical, how frantic I became, eventually even resorting to pleading… she never softened. She never once came back to see me. In this daily despair, I grew thinner and thinner, falling gravely ill. Finally, I withered away. 3 “Ian?” I snapped back to reality, looking at Lara beside me. A profound hatred surged through every fiber of my being. My heart felt as if it would burst, and for a moment, I almost couldn’t stand. After I died, she finally got what she wanted, didn’t she? Perhaps, the way she treated me was always meant to torment me to death faster. I remembered my medication being suddenly swapped before I died. When I asked the butler, he merely said it was a milder kind. I didn’t suspect a thing. Yet, shortly after taking this new medicine, my health rapidly deteriorated until I couldn’t even sit up. Not long after, I died. It was her, wasn’t it? Who else could it be? Hating me so much, wanting me dead so quickly. She wanted to marry Luke. How utterly venomous. I looked at Lara, forcefully suppressing the urge to rush forward and kill her. I hated her so much! I believed that aside from being a naive idiot when I was younger and not sensitive enough to her pride, I had done nothing to wrong Lara. I hadn’t even forced her into marriage. I’d even asked if she was willing, and if not, I could wait. Yet, she hated me so profoundly. Luke, just like in the past, was yelling at me, “Ian, do you think money makes you important? How dare you insult people like this!” “Take your filthy money and get lost!” I looked at him. Luke was actually quite handsome, though his worn-out tracksuit made him look a bit shabby. He was staring at me, his expression agitated. This was the man Lara loved, the one she would kill for. It was the same in my past life. Lara and I were talking calmly; I was telling her that if she felt uncomfortable, she could pay me back for her tuition later, treating it as a loan. But then Luke suddenly accused me of throwing money around, saying I was insulting Lara. It was only through later arguments with Lara that I slowly understood. She had always felt I was using money to demean and humiliate her. Suddenly, I found it all so laughable. Seeing Luke’s protective stance, I curled my lips into a smile. “You’re overthinking it.” “I’d rather burn this money than use it to help you.” Lara’s face blanched. 4 Luke’s expression went blank for a moment. “…What did you say?” I smiled. “Don’t you think me helping you is insulting? As classmates, how could I insult you like that? In that case, forget it. You two can just keep working odd jobs.” Luke’s family situation was similar to Lara’s; his father owed debts and ran off with money, and his mother worked herself sick to put him through school, now confined to bed. Perhaps because of their similar circumstances, he and Lara had always been close, always hovering around her. He always liked to tag along whenever Lara and I went out. Sometimes I’d object, and he’d question me in front of Lara. “Ian, are you looking down on me because I’m poor? Don’t you want to be friends with me?” Before I could reply, Lara would link her arm through his and say in a flat voice, “If you think we’re not good enough, then don’t go.” I’d have no choice but to bring him along. At dinner, he’d stare at the lobster on the plate and say, “Do you eat such fancy food every day?” “We really aren’t from the same world.” There were several times when Lara and I were having a good conversation, and he’d suddenly interject with a remark like that. Lara’s smile would vanish, and she’d stop talking to me. At first, I thought he was just thoughtless. It wasn’t until one time when Lara and I were walking together, and I turned around to say something to him, that I caught his gaze. Luke’s face was expressionless, his eyes filled with a murky malevolence and resentment. When he saw me turn, he was startled, quickly forcing a smile. But all I felt was a chill down my spine. That’s when it dawned on me. He hated me. Or rather, he resented me. Actually, when Lara and I first got married, there was a brief period of harmony. Her company was on track then, having secured its first big contract. After the celebration dinner, she drunkenly hugged me, laughing and saying, “Honey, what do you like? Your wife will buy it for you.” I felt for her, knowing how hard she worked for her money, and held her, utterly content. “No need, your company is just starting, it’s where the money should go. Your thoughtfulness is enough for me.” But she wouldn’t let go, clinging to my neck, whining playfully, “A wife’s money is for her husband! I’ll buy you a car, what kind do you want?!” Even as she fell asleep, she was still mumbling. “Ian, I have money now.” “You don’t have to compromise for me or suffer with me anymore.” Sure enough, the next day she bought me a car. But before I could even say anything, Luke showed up. He looked at the car keys in my hand, and his expression suddenly turned odd. Then, he snatched the keys from me, smiling at Lara. “Oh, I remember Ian already had this car when he was in college. One of his friends gave it to him, right?” “He even complained it was too cheap to drive.” Honestly, I’d long forgotten if that was true. But Lara’s expression immediately soured. Then she took the car keys and left, her face unreadable. After that, she grew cold towards me again. And the next time I saw that car, Luke was driving it. He curved his lips into a smile, feigning indifference. “Ian, Lara gave me this car. You’re not angry, are you?” Of course, I refused, demanding he give the car back to me. A flicker of resentment crossed his face, and he loudly asked, “You have so many cars already, why do you have to fight me for this one?!” “You have so many, and I only have this one!” Lara, her face dark, pulled me away. “Let go! If you don’t care about it, why fight him for it? Or is it that you just like to fight for things?!” I was young and proud back then, and I couldn’t stand that kind of humiliation. We had a huge fight and parted ways angrily. Only later did I understand. Luke wasn’t talking about the car at all. He was clearly talking about Lara. He felt I had stolen her, which was why he hated me so much. 5 “Ian,” Lara, regaining her composure, frantically grabbed my arm. “Wait!” I turned back, but seeing her expression, I froze for a moment. Her eyes were a swirling vortex of emotions, as if something was about to break free and erupt! Even her voice trembled slightly. “No, this isn’t right!” “Ian, why aren’t you helping me anymore? Don’t you like me very much?!” Her frantic outburst startled me. What was wrong with Lara? Had she gone crazy? Or was she upset about my tone with Luke? But in my past life, at this point, I hadn’t even won her over yet, and she was always utterly cold and unsmiling towards me. Was she having some kind of episode? I tried to shake her off. “Let go!” She clung on even tighter, her eyes starting to redden. “Ian, don’t you like me anymore?” “Don’t you want me anymore?!” Now I was truly unnerved. When had Lara ever said something like that to me? I stared, wide-eyed. “Lara, what the hell is wrong with you? Did you take the wrong meds or are you possessed?!” But she said nothing, just stared at me unblinkingly, her expression fanatically obsessive. My temper flared. How dare she stare at me like that after everything she did to me in my past life?! “Didn’t you think me helping you was humiliating? Lara, or are you just shamelessly waiting for me to beg you, taking advantage of my kindness?!” Luke’s mouth hung open, as if he hadn’t expected me to speak to Lara like that. Indeed, in my past life, at this very moment, I was at my most infatuated with her. Every word I spoke was carefully chosen, fearing I might wound her pride. But now, I didn’t care anymore! “Lara, what kind of person are you?!” I sneered. Heartless, ungrateful. I truly wondered how I could have fallen for someone like that. Lara, however, wasn’t angry. The color simply drained from her face, leaving it pale. I roughly pushed her hand away and walked off without looking back.

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  • The War of Luck

    I found a homeless man, spent all my savings to heal him and helped him start a business. A year later, he became the city’s newest billionaire. Everyone envied my keen eye, eagerly awaiting my grand entry into high society. Yet, he knelt before my sister, claiming he had mistakenly loved another, only to find his true love was her. I didn’t cry, didn’t cause a scene, just smiled and nodded. My family thought I had accepted my fate. But no one knew I was born with a gift for the mystic arts, and I had long seen that Finn carried the aura of a top-tier Lucky Charm. A year of meticulous planning, all to seize his fortune. Marrying into wealth? No, I would become the wealth myself! 1 From the moment I was born, I could see everyone’s aura. Ordinary people had a faint white glow around them. Celebrities on TV shone with a dazzling red. Those cursed with bad luck, prone to bankruptcy or violent deaths, were shrouded in an impenetrable black. Only I, looking in a mirror, saw my own aura as a void, completely transparent. Because of this, since childhood, I’d devoured every book on metaphysics, sought out every reclusive master. Finally, a blind sage told me: I had a rare “Empty Fate,” a short and shallow life, with only one solution: draw upon others’ luck for my own. But I searched for many years, never encountering an aura that truly captivated me. Until one day, in a forgotten alley in the old quarter, I saw a burst of golden light so brilliant it made one squint. As I drew closer, I realized the light emanated from a filthy homeless man, emaciated beyond recognition, his wounds festering with pus and insects. Yet, that golden aura was solid, palpable, swirling around him like a mythical carp. It was the “Nine Transformations of the Lucky Carp,” a rare fortune seen only once in a century! This aura promised immense wealth, the power to defy fate, and to turn disaster into fortune. I heard my heart pound, as if I had met true love. I extended a trembling hand towards him: “Come with me.” The moment we arrived home, my sister Rose’s shriek shattered the silence: “Alicia brought back a smelly beggar!” Mom rushed from the kitchen, pinching her nose and scolding me: “Where did you pick up this vagrant? He reeks and he’s half-dead. Get him out of here!” Dad sat on the sofa, his face ashen: “What on earth are you doing? Do you want all the neighbors to laugh at us?” But I paid them no mind. I was born with shallow familial bonds. I was born at 4:44 AM, my cries as faint as a kitten’s mew. The nurse handed me to Mom, but she recoiled in disgust. Dad stood by, uttering only one sentence: “This child is bad luck.” Later, Rose was born, a rosy-cheeked, adorable baby who loved to cuddle, fulfilling all their expectations. From then on, all the warmth and attention in the household fell upon her. I became a ghost in my own home. When I was little, I once fainted with a fever, and they told the neighbors I was just “sleeping in.” When asked about my favorite food, they’d say “leftovers.” Even though I was older than Rose, I had to wear her hand-me-downs… Their favoritism brought me no sorrow, no expectation, only indifference. I didn’t care if they loved me or not; my heart was never truly here. This “Nine Transformations of the Lucky Carp” aura, that was what I truly desired. It wasn’t ordinary good fortune, but a celestial aura capable of rewriting destiny and wielding ultimate creation. Held in my grasp, it offered the absolute power to control my own life. To soar ninety thousand miles high, with the sky as my limit, unshackled. With it, everything I desired would be within reach. So I said, word by word: “I want him.” Everyone thought I was mad. I brought a beggar home, not only spending a fortune on a private doctor and imported antibiotics for him, but also paying high prices to enroll him in the most elite financial trading courses. When Rose saw the man, bandaged from head to toe, seriously studying “Security Analysis” in the room, she burst out laughing: “Sister, are you completely infatuated with a beggar? Does he even know how to spell ‘finance’?” Mom followed suit, glaring at me and lamenting with disappointment: “What’s so good about this beggar? This is just throwing money down the drain!” I didn’t even look up, replying calmly: “It’s my money; I’ll throw it however I like.” Indeed, the money I had saved over the years by performing feng shui readings and fortune-telling was now being poured into him like water. I even spent a small fortune on a tourmaline ring, which I gave to him. Everyone thought I was crazy for a man, completely infatuated with a beggar. Only I knew that once he passed this final hurdle, Finn would rise. And I would use his aura to defy fate, to reshape my destiny. Finn, resilient as a pine, sustaining fortune. “Finn, don’t disappoint me.” He certainly didn’t disappoint me. In three months, Finn completed all his financial courses. I gave him seed money to register Aura Capital. In the fifth month, he targeted the stock market, precisely shorting overhyped green energy stocks, profiting two hundred million in a week, making a name for himself overnight. In the seventh month, he transitioned to the commodity futures market. I helped him anticipate policy shifts, earning another eight hundred million. In just one year, Aura Capital grew from a small startup to a giant in the financial world. Finn, too, topped financial headlines, becoming the city’s most sought-after new billionaire, mysterious and low-key. As CEO, I remained steadily by his side. That day came quickly. Finn’s injuries were fully healed, and the bandages were removed from his face. When he was invited to the annual Outstanding Entrepreneur Awards, the entire financial world buzzed with excitement. Major media outlets converged, sensing a story: “One Year to City’s Top Billionaire! Mysterious Newcomer Finn Makes First Public Appearance!” Amidst widespread anticipation, Finn made his entrance. He stood against the light, his eyes like bright stars, tall and slender. In that moment, the entire venue fell silent. A moment later, thunderous applause erupted. Finn’s acceptance speech mentioned only one name: Alicia Stone. The tourmaline ring on his left ring finger shimmered under the spotlights. Now, he had commissioned a matching one for me, personally placing it on my ring finger. He also announced our wedding date: one month later. The media instantly exploded, camera flashes popping everywhere. “Breaking news! The new billionaire, who rose to the top in just one year, makes his first public appearance to propose!” “Oh my god, such a handsome and devoted billionaire, he’s like a perfect character from a novel!” “What more could one wish for after marrying him?!” And I, up close, observed Finn’s strong nose and his lightly pressed lips. The fortune-transferring formation would be fully complete in less than a month. Once I obtained the top-tier Lucky Charm aura, I would soar. By then, Finn would be marrying into wealth. Keeping him wouldn’t be out of the question. However, no one noticed that Rose, working as an intern reporter that day, was also present. She stared blankly at the man on stage, her lips slightly parted, her hands tightly clasped over her chest, as if the surrounding commotion held no meaning for her. Only the frantic thumping of her own heart remained. She murmured dreamily: “My… Prince Charming has truly appeared…” That evening, I returned home after signing contracts at the office. My room door was ajar. Peeking in, I saw Finn sitting at my desk, and Rose was inexplicably wearing my pajamas. The next second, Rose suddenly hugged Finn from behind. Her face was flushed, her eyes fluttering like a startled deer. Finn turned around, realizing it wasn’t me, and yet he didn’t immediately push Rose away. As the two exchanged gazes, sparks flying, I kicked the door open. Rose, like a frightened deer, pulled back her hands and clasped them over her chest. “Sister, you scared me! Why are you always so rough?” I retorted, exasperated: “Why are you in my room wearing my pajamas?” She lowered her head shyly, twisting the hem of the pajamas, and said: “My pajamas are all in the wash, and Mom said I could wear your clothes. You don’t mind, do you, Sister?” “Actually, these pajamas are a bit small on you, Sister. They fit me perfectly.” “And I think I look better in your pajamas.” Shameless, I scoffed: “Get out.” Rose’s eyes instantly welled up. She bit her lower lip. “Sister, why are you so mean to me? We’re sisters, can’t I come into your room? Do you dislike me so much that you always target me?” With that, she looked on the verge of tears, casting a pleading glance at Finn. I also looked at Finn. He frowned, pondered for a moment, then said: “Rose is innocent and kind-hearted; she means no harm.” “And you’re Rose’s older sister, you shouldn’t be so harsh with her.” Rose quickly covered Finn’s mouth with her small hand: “Don’t talk about Sister like that for my sake. I don’t want you two to argue because of me. You two should always be happy together.” After speaking, she wiped her tears with her small hand and ran out, head bowed. I heard her soft sobs in the living room. “I never imagined… my ideal Prince Charming… would be right here in our home. Isn’t this a heaven-sent destiny… but he’s Sister’s…” And Mom and Dad’s comforting voices. “He’s not married, she’s not married… how is he your sister’s then?” “A girl should be brave… pursue true love.” Looking at Finn’s slightly dazed eyes. I knew he was beginning to change. A few days later, as soon as I arrived at the office in the morning, HR handed me a new hire form. Rose Stone. Her position was Chairman’s Special Assistant. I, the CEO, knew nothing about it. As I walked towards Finn’s office, I heard Rose’s sweet voice from inside. “Finn, you’re so good to me, giving me such a high salary. Sister won’t be angry, will she?” Through the crack in the door, I saw Rose leaning across the desk, straightening Finn’s tie. Finn looked down slightly, his gaze at her holding a hint of indulgence.

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