Author: Momo Chan

Ten years after my death, I was reborn as Daisy, my own pampered granddaughter, who always clung to me. In my last life, I started from a street stall, clawed my way to a publicly traded corporation, and hadn’t slept a single good night in sixty years. This time, I could finally be a third-generation heiress, living a life of leisure. But no sooner had I woken up than I saw a notification on my phone. My adopted son, Leo Maxwell, was poised to dismantle the business empire I had painstakingly built. All the Lees, my relatives, stormed into the CEO’s office, pointing fingers at him, yelling, “What right do you, an outsider, have to dispose of the Lee family’s assets!” Leo merely lifted his gaze, and the entire room fell silent, like chickens gone mute. In the end, every single Lee was thrown out of the building, becoming the laughingstock of the city. Only I was left behind with Leo. I felt a pang of guilt, half-expecting him to recognize me, his old matriarch. Instead, he tossed a stack of business management quizzes at me, his face cold. “Grandma doted on you most of all in her life, but your brain is less than a thousandth of hers.” “These tests, you must score above 90% on every single one.” He leaned in, his voice tight with suppressed emotion. “Fail to do so, and don’t even think about visiting her grave.” “I’ll tell everyone—you’re not worthy of being her granddaughter.” 1 The moment consciousness flooded back, a searing headache made me groan. Ten years of murky, post-mortem memories receded like a tide, replaced by those of another girl. Daisy Lee. My little granddaughter. The one who, at three years old, would cling to me, begging me to read to her. The one my son and daughter-in-law spoiled rotten, so delicate that a mere touch would make her cry. I shot upright and rushed to the bathroom. The mirror reflected a youthful face, wide, sparkling eyes, skin like porcelain, and softly curled hair—the epitome of a spoiled little princess. Looking at this face, untouched by the storms of life, my emotions were a complicated mess. In my last life, I built an empire from scratch, from a humble street cart to a listed corporation, working myself into ill health by sixty, with wrinkles that even the most expensive skincare couldn’t erase. Now, I’d been given a second chance, only to become my own granddaughter? Well, it’s not so bad. After a lifetime of toil, this time I’d be a third-generation heiress. I’d finally enjoy a life of… “Buzz—buzz—” My phone on the vanity vibrated wildly, the screen lighting up with urgent news alerts. [Lee Group Stock Plummets! Billions Lost in a Single Day!] [Leo Maxwell’s Leadership Fails? Lee Business Empire on the Brink!] [Industry Analysts: Lee Group CEO Leo Maxwell’s Recent Decisions Questioned, Suspected of Deliberate Self-Sabotage?] Leo Maxwell. My adopted son. When I found him, he was twelve, as thin as a bean sprout, but his eyes held the fierce glint of a wolf cub. Most of the Lee descendants were soft-natured; I was worried about finding an heir, so I adopted him. I spent ten years smoothing his rough edges, teaching him the ways of business, and on my deathbed, against all opposition, I entrusted the company to him. I thought he’d understand my efforts. I thought he’d protect my legacy. And this is how he repays me? A surge of righteous fury shot to my head. I threw the phone down, grabbed a coat, and stormed out. This life, though housed in a pampered body, still held the spirit of old Mrs. Lee. I needed to get some answers. What exactly was Leo Maxwell trying to do? Did he think that just because I was gone, no one could control him anymore? I rushed downstairs, before I could even call a driver, an urgent news flash suddenly appeared on the hundred-inch TV screen in the living room. [Breaking! Lee Group CEO Leo Maxwell Announces Donation of All Personal Assets and Remaining Group Liquid Funds, Plus Select Real Estate, Totaling Approximately Ten Billion Dollars, to Sunstone Charity Home!] On the screen, Leo Maxwell, impeccably dressed in a suit, stood beside the donation agreement, his face calm and unreadable. Below him, flashbulbs exploded. My steps faltered. I stared at the scrolling news headline, rooted to the spot. He donated everything? And to Sunstone Charity Home, of all places? While I was still reeling, my father, uncles, and aunts in this life had already erupted. “He’s lost his mind! He’s absolutely lost it!” My father, Robert Lee, slammed his teacup, his face ashen. “That’s Lee family money! What right does he have to donate it?!” “I told you this stray wouldn’t be tamed! Mom shouldn’t have been so soft-hearted and picked him up!” Uncle George stomped his foot, cursing. “Call the police! We must call the police! This is embezzlement! This is theft!” The group clawed at each other like hyenas whose food had been snatched, red-eyed, howling, completely devoid of dignity. I watched them coldly. These people, my children in my past life. Not much talent, but when it came to fighting over inheritance and being a hindrance, they were second to none. If I hadn’t kept them in check, the company would have been bled dry long ago. Now, seeing the money gone, they were more frantic than anyone. The whole group stormed out, clearly going to confront Leo. I slowly followed. My emotions were complicated. This move by Leo, it was too radical, and too unexpected. Sunstone Charity Home, that was where I met him. And it was also where I first started, where I got my first investment. The old director there was a truly good person. I had sworn then that if I succeeded, I would repay that place a hundred, a thousand times over. I had only mentioned this to young Leo once. He… remembered? 2 The top floor of Lee Group headquarters, outside the CEO’s office, was a chaotic mess, like a fish market. My children and grandchildren from this life were all blocked by bodyguards. Unable to get in, they cursed outside, their words viciously offensive. “Leo Maxwell! You ungrateful bastard! Get out here!” “That’s my mother’s company! What right do you have to donate it?! What kind of trash are you?!” “Bastard! Scum! They should have let you starve and freeze to death back then!” The security guards formed a human wall, their faces impassive, clearly well-trained. The secretary on the side was sweating profusely, trying to say something, but her voice was completely drowned out by the shouting. I watched this group argue like common street vendors, my brow furrowing deeper. Such uncouth behavior! Did decades of upbringing amount to nothing? “Everyone, shut up!” I snapped, the unconscious authority of old Mrs. Lee emerging. “What kind of scene is this?! Can’t you talk…” “Daisy, shut your mouth!” My father in this life, Robert Lee, abruptly cut me off, his face full of irritation. “What do kids know?! Go stand aside!” Uncle George shot me a harsh glare. “Adults are talking, it’s not your place to interrupt! If you keep yelling, I’ll send you home!” I instantly choked, the rest of my words caught in my throat. Looking at their agitated, distorted faces, I suddenly realized. Right now, I was Daisy Lee, the least influential granddaughter in the family. A wave of powerlessness washed over me. I pressed my lips together, silently retreating to the back of the crowd, observing the farce coldly. I didn’t expect that short moment to be perfectly captured by a pair of deep eyes peeking from behind the office door. The office door suddenly opened. Leo Maxwell stepped out. He must be thirty-five this year. Time hadn’t etched many lines on his face; instead, it had refined him, giving him a stern, imposing aura. His suit was sharp, his posture upright, and his gaze, when it swept over them, felt like shards of ice. The previously noisy crowd instantly quieted by half. My father, stiff-necked, still wanted to say something, but a glance from Leo instantly deflated his bluster. “What’s all this noise about?” Leo’s voice wasn’t loud, but it clearly cut through all other sounds. “Do I need to report company decisions to you?” “That’s the Lee family’s company!” Uncle George shrieked. “The Lee family?” Leo gave a faint, cold smirk, as if he’d heard a joke. “When Grandma was alive, which of you ever earned a dime for Lee Group? The losses you incurred, however, were countless. And now you show up claiming it’s the Lee family’s?” His gaze swept over the faces, some angry, some guilty. “When the group’s capital chain broke, and stock prices plummeted, where were you?” “When banks called in debts, and partners canceled contracts, where were you then?” “Aside from selling off Grandma’s antiques and properties to cover your messes, what else can you do?” A torrent of questions left the group speechless, their faces alternating between green and white. “As for the donation,” Leo’s tone grew colder. “I used my personal funds and disposed of the group’s remaining assets to overcome the crisis, all legally and compliantly. Who are you to dictate what I do?” “Bullshit!” My father finally found his voice, his eyes red. “You’re just seeking revenge! Revenge on the Lee family! Revenge on Mom for keeping you in line! You’re just an ungrateful wretch we raised!” Leo’s expression instantly darkened. The air around them seemed to drop several degrees. “Robert Lee,” Leo didn’t even call him by his usual title, just his name. “Watch your words. If not for Grandma’s sake, you wouldn’t even have the right to stand here and speak to me.” He raised a hand. Security personnel immediately stepped forward, forcefully “escorting” people out. “Get out! All of you, get out!” “Leo Maxwell! How dare you!” “We’ll sue you! You just wait!” Cries, curses, and threats filled the air, but my children and grandchildren were unceremoniously cleared out. The farce ended. I stood in the corner, watching these useless descendants being removed, feeling a surge of annoyance. Leo’s gaze swept past the crowd, landing precisely on me. “You,” he pointed at me, his eyes deep and unreadable, “come in.” My heart tightened. Bearing the resentful stares of the others, I bit the bullet and followed him into the office. The door closed behind us, shutting out all the noise. 3 The office was quiet. Leo walked behind his desk, turned, and fixed his piercing gaze on me. He said nothing, just watched me, as if trying to see straight through me. Under his intense scrutiny, my scalp tingled, and I tried my best to maintain Daisy’s usual timid demeanor. After a long moment, he finally spoke, his voice even. “That was quite a display of authority just now.” My heart skipped a beat. Leo was a smart kid, even as a child. Could he have… “But it was a little foolish,” his tone turned colder. “Unable to grasp the situation, trying to smash an egg against a rock.” I lowered my head, not daring to speak. He suddenly picked up a stack of test papers from a nearby table and tossed them onto the desk in front of me. Corporate Strategic Management, Advanced Financial Analysis, Market Game Theory… All business management courses, and not easy ones. I immediately recognized that some of the trap questions and assessment approaches were very similar to the tricky ones I used to devise to challenge him. “Your father says you want to intern at the company?” Leo leaned back in his chair, his tone unreadable, but his finger tapped lightly on the Market Game Theory paper, his gaze like a hawk, watching my initial reaction as I picked up the tests. I: “…” No, I don’t. Looking at these papers, I sighed inwardly. Perhaps I pushed too hard in my previous life; old Mrs. Lee, this time, just wanted to enjoy the life of a rich heiress. Otherwise, how could I justify a lifetime of hard work? But I could only nod. “…Mmm.” At the same time, my fingers subconsciously flipped through the top paper, my gaze quickly scanning several key questions. My brow furrowed almost imperceptibly, then quickly relaxed. The way these questions are designed, still the same old tricks, focusing on human weaknesses and loopholes in regulations. Seriously, no progress at all. “With your grades, failing every subject, what could you possibly do in the company? Even fetching tea and water, you’d be too stupid.” His words were blunt, but his gaze was fixed on my brow, where it had just furrowed and relaxed, and on the focused intensity in my eyes as I quickly scanned the papers—an intensity that no slacker would possess. My mouth twitched uncontrollably. That brat, still so sharp-tongued! I fought the urge to blurt out, “Your old lady used these exact tricks to test you back then, and you almost cried!” Instead, I took a small breath, suppressing the flicker of disrespect and a strange sense of familiarity. Head bowed, focused only on maintaining my disguise, I didn’t notice the increasing depth in Leo’s gaze. “Grandma always said you looked like her when she was young,” he paused, his gaze again sweeping over my face, this time with a more intense scrutiny and an almost perplexed inquiry. He even unconsciously tapped his fingertips on the desk. This was his habitual movement when deep in thought. “But seeing your pig-headed brain, you’re not even a thousandth of her.” I: “!!!” Is that how you talk about your own mother?! I almost couldn’t stop myself from slapping the desk and jumping up, the anger that flared in my eyes and the authoritative air of old Mrs. Lee, though fleeting, made Leo’s tapping fingers suddenly stop. The inquiry in his eyes instantly sharpened, and he even leaned forward slightly, almost imperceptibly, as if to see more clearly. But his next sentence rooted me to the spot, temporarily interrupting his dangerous scrutiny. “Grandma valued two things above all else in her life: the Lee family’s reputation, and the competence of its descendants.” “Before she passed, she repeatedly instructed me never to allow anyone in the Lee family to become a wasteful spendthrift who knew nothing about business.” His gaze swept over me, cold and stern, his tone growing harsher. “You failed four subjects last semester, you don’t even understand basic business principles, and all you do all day is eat, drink, shop, and party.” “With your meager abilities, do you deserve the Lee name? Do you deserve to be Grandma’s granddaughter?” He picked up the top paper, a financial report analysis covered in red crosses, and slammed it down in front of me. “Grandma doted on you most of all in her life, always saying you looked just like her when she was young.” “But seeing your pig-headed brain, you’re not even a thousandth of her!” “Redo all these tests. Every subject must score above 90%.” He leaned in, his voice carrying an undeniable threat. “If you fail to do so…” “Don’t expect to attend Grandma’s gravesite visit.” “I’ll tell everyone that Daisy Lee has no right to stand before Grandma’s tomb—because you’re not worthy of being her granddaughter.”

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1 My best friend, Scarlett, and I had somehow transmigrated into the bodies of the villainous sisters. She was a glamorous It-Girl, the darling of the entertainment industry, backed by the scion of the city’s elite, Lord Preston. I was the stunning A-list actress, infamous for my extravagant spending, the prized possession of the new money magnate, CEO Beckett. We bickered and squabbled, yet together, we crushed every wannabe starlet and social climber under our heels. That was until the innocent ‘pure white flower’ appeared. For her, Lord Preston, a.k.a. Preston Hayes, halted Scarlett’s projects. For her, CEO Beckett, a.k.a. Ethan Beckett, hadn’t touched me in days. Ah, the protagonist has arrived. … The Gold Star Awards ceremony was ablaze with flashbulbs. Scarlett and I, a freshly crowned Best Actress and a top-tier It-Girl, sat front and center in the first row, our designer gowns flowing together, an undeniable spectacle. Scarlett, her nails tipped with brilliant red polish, nudged me. “See that? Fifth row, dressed like she just rolled out of a thrift store. That’s Lily Evans.” She whispered, her voice barely audible over the hum of the crowd. I followed her gaze. A girl in faded jeans and a worn-out T-shirt stood out like a sore thumb among the sea of haute couture. “Is this chick clueless or is it some kind of performance art? Ugh, quite the statement,” I commented, a smirk playing on my lips. Scarlett snorted. “She’s going for the ‘pure, resilient little daisy’ vibe. Don’t get it? Soon enough, she’ll be ‘accidentally’ bumping into a powerful CEO. The main plot is definitely kicking off.” During the intermission, as the elegantly dressed crowd began to mingle, Lily, clutching a glass of red wine, took an “unfortunate” stumble. The entire contents of her glass, without fail, splashed all over a man. His pristine white custom-tailored suit instantly bloomed with large, crimson stains. Lily’s face blanched, her eyes welling with tears. “Oh, m-my apologies! Mr. Hayes, I truly didn’t mean to! I’ll replace it for you…” She trailed off, biting her lip, a picture of tearful, humble despair – how could a poor person like me ever afford to replace such a thing? Preston’s assistant was about to unleash a tirade, but Preston himself simply raised a hand. Far from angry, he offered Lily a handkerchief. “It’s fine. Wipe up, don’t be startled.” Watching the scene unfold from a distance, I playfully teased, “Looks like your sugar daddy’s getting hit on, Scarlett.” Scarlett’s smile stiffened for a second, then she forced a casual shrug. “Don’t worry, your big shot CEO won’t last three seconds either. This is where we start our villainess antics.” Preston had Lily sit beside him, effectively taking Scarlett’s usual spot. And my own CEO boyfriend, Ethan Beckett, Preston’s closest friend, was watching the whole thing with a curious smirk. Scarlett immediately slid into character, sashaying over, glass in hand, a captivating smile gracing her lips. “Preston, aren’t you going to introduce us? Who’s this young lady?” Lily, startled, shrank back behind Preston. “Miss Scarlett, please don’t misunderstand, Mr. Hayes asked me to sit here.” “I told her to sit here,” Preston cut in, his gaze sweeping over Scarlett. “Got a problem with that?” Scarlett’s smile vanished, her expression turning icy. She pressed on, unrelenting. Bravo, sis! You’re a quick study. Scarlett then swung her glass of red wine, aiming to drench Lily, but Preston swiftly raised a hand and slapped her across the face. He then loudly chastised Scarlett, mindlessly defending his new favorite. I walked over to Ethan, tugging at his sleeve. “That’s enough, give your friend some space. No need to make his girlfriend’s life a living hell.” Ethan, however, grabbed my wrist, his grip alarmingly strong. “Stella, since when did you become so busybody?” He flung my hand away and strode directly to Lily, taking off his own suit jacket and draping it over her shoulders with an air of possessive authority. “Miss Evans, please don’t mind them. They’ve been spoiled by us and don’t know any better. I apologize on their behalf.” Every eye in the banquet hall was fixed on us. Humiliation. Raw, public humiliation. Lily timidly looked up. “Mr. Beckett, please don’t be like this, it’s not your fault. It’s my fault, I shouldn’t be here.” She then started to cry. Ethan, his face full of concern, turned to me, his gaze freezing over. “Stella, come here.” He commanded. “Apologize to her.” I stood my ground, unmoving. I rolled my eyes at the overly dramatic Lily. Apologize to her? An A-list actress like me? She wouldn’t even be fit to carry my shoes on set, a ladder-climber who got ahead by buttering up directors. What a joke. Ethan’s patience snapped. He strode over to me, grabbing my arm. “Stella, don’t forget who you are. You’re nothing but a toy I bought and paraded around. If you don’t want me to cut off your resources, you’ll apologize to Miss Evans right now.” “Or,” he leaned closer, his voice a low growl meant only for my ears, “do you want me to teach you, in front of everyone, how to be a good little dog?” I felt a rush of blood to my head, followed by an instant chill. I looked at him, a sudden, almost serene smile gracing my lips, and slowly raised my hand, my gaze falling on the eight-figure Patek Philippe Sky Moon Tourbillon on my wrist. With a crisp click, I unfastened the clasp. Ethan’s face instantly darkened. “Stella, what are you doing?” I placed the cold, heavy wristwatch into his palm. The chill of the metal made him flinch instinctively. “Mr. Beckett, the five-year lease is up,” my voice was terrifyingly calm. “This watch, returned to its rightful owner.” With that, I turned and walked away, not sparing him another glance. Scarlett was quick on the uptake, her ten-centimeter heels clicking as she caught up to me, linking her arm through mine. “Men over 25 are practically sixty. Do these hundred-and-twenty-year-old geezers really think we’re desperate? Stella, let’s go have some real fun.” Under the gaze of hundreds, we walked out of the Gold Star Awards banquet, heads held high. Once outside, the evening breeze hit me, and I realized my back was drenched in cold sweat. Scarlett and I, two women in couture gowns and sparkling jewelry, stood arm in arm on a deserted street in the early hours of the morning, waiting for a ride-share. “I got a text,” I said, shaking my phone. The screen showed a bank notification – account frozen. “Ethan moves fast. All my cards are stopped.” “Tricky old man,” Scarlett rolled her eyes. “Mine too.” It had started to drizzle, tiny needles of cold rain pricking our exposed shoulders. We stumbled along, supporting each other, towards a nearby bus shelter to escape the rain. Sitting on the cold metal bench, raindrops dripped from our hair, our expensive gowns plastered damply to our skin. My mind was a chaotic mess, dominated by Ethan’s words: “good little dog.” Five years ago, when I first transmigrated, I was a struggling actress, a mere extra on set. I’d refused a director’s inappropriate advances, been slapped, and was curled in a corner, crying. That’s when Ethan appeared, like a god descending. He kicked the director away, then charmingly removed his suit jacket and draped it over me, covering my torn costume. His hand gently touched my swollen cheek, his voice deep and powerful. “Does it hurt?” I nodded, tears still flowing. He pulled me into a protective embrace. “From today on, no one dares to lay a hand on you but me. Stella, you won’t have to answer to anyone else. You only need to look at me.” Back then, I thought he was my savior. The rain intensified, and I began to shiver with cold. Scarlett took off her warm little shawl and wrapped it around me. “What are you thinking about?” “I’m wondering if I made a mistake from the very beginning.” “What good is thinking about that now?” Scarlett said. “Let’s figure out what we do next. All our resources are going to Lily.” Just then, my phone screen lit up. A text from an unknown number. “Saw you at the awards. Are you okay? Your old friend, Shane Yu.” Shane Yu. The name made me pause. He was a friend from my real life, before I transmigrated. We had anticipated this day, secretly saving up and buying a small apartment together. Back in our apartment, after shedding our soaked gowns and taking a long, hot shower, we curled up on the sofa, each with a mug of hot cocoa. I opened my phone to check social media. Eight out of the top ten trending topics were about us. #StellaBeckettSplit #ScarlettFallsFromGrace #LilyNewPrincessOfPrestonDynasty #BeckettHayesBrotherhood The comments section was even more… colorful. “LOL, I always hated Stella, a gold digger who actually thought she was the main squeeze.” “Scarlett too, always scowling. Preston must have been sick of her!” “Am I the only one who thinks Lily is so brave and pitiful? She’s like a pure white lotus blooming in the mud!” “^Above, I just got inside info: Stella’s S-tier blockbuster, Phoenix’s Cry, the lead role has been given to Lily!” “Figures,” Scarlett scoffed. “Killing two birds with one stone. One gets resources, the other gets to invest. Her plans are so obvious, you can hear them from a mile away.” Just as she finished speaking, Scarlett’s phone rang. She answered it with a questioning look, putting it on speaker. “Hello?” A soft, tearful female voice came from the other end. “Is… is this Miss Scarlett?” “I am truly sorry,” she choked out. “I didn’t know things would turn out this way. Mr. Hayes just took pity on me, that’s why he helped me. Your and Miss Stella’s projects being canceled, it’s all my fault.” Scarlett scoffed. “Get to the point.” “I heard Mr. Beckett say that Miss Stella must be going through a lot right now. Mr. Beckett actually cares about her very much, he’s just mad she’s so proud, unlike me, who understands how to be considerate.” “And?” “So if you two need money, I can go beg Mr. Beckett and Mr. Hayes, they both have very kind hearts.” “Lily Evans!” Scarlett cut her off. “Are you seriously thick, or just pretending? Do I need to translate ‘get lost’ for you?” With that, Scarlett hung up. “Damn it,” she threw her phone aside. “Top-tier green tea, confirmed. She’s trying to provoke us.” I nodded, about to speak when my former agent, Ms. Jenkins, called, sobbing hysterically. “Stella, my dear girl! My precious daughter! Mr. Beckett pulled funding from Phoenix’s Cry! He said he won’t invest a dime unless you’re replaced! The production team has officially announced Lily as the new lead!” I comforted Ms. Jenkins for a few moments, then hung up, my heart cold. Ethan was clearly trying to cut off all my paths. Scarlett’s phone rang again. The name ‘Preston Hayes’ flashed on the screen. Scarlett stared at the name for a few seconds, then swiped to answer. From the other end, Preston’s voice was chillingly devoid of emotion, cutting straight to the chase. “Lily is allergic to cat fur.” Scarlett said nothing. “Get rid of that cat you keep in the hillside villa.” That ragdoll cat was a gift from Preston last year, flown in from overseas at a six-figure cost for Scarlett’s birthday. He’d even personally said, “It’s called ‘Unique,’ because you are my only one.” Scarlett gripped her phone, her knuckles white from the pressure. Preston, on the other end, grew impatient. “Did you hear me? Immediately. Now.”

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It was New Year’s Eve, the day Noah and I were finally ending our seven-year long-distance relationship and announcing our engagement. But an emergency miscarriage case pulled me into the OR. The patient, Sarah, was hemorrhaging heavily, and tests showed she had Stage Three Syphilis and severe HIV. The medical team looked grim. On the table, Sarah begged, “Please save my baby.” I shook my head. “You should know how your health affects your child.” She avoided my gaze. “But my husband wants a child. He’s the CEO of Sterling Holdings—we’ll pay anything.” My mind went blank. Sterling Holdings’ only CEO was Noah Sterling. I frowned. “Are you sure? Reports say he has a fiancée from a prominent family.” She stuck out her tongue playfully. “My husband did mention a fiancée around your age. But he said she’s boring, wouldn’t let him touch her before marriage—nothing like me, cute and flirty.” “He heard about my accident and is already on his private jet here.” Seeing her messenger photo—one I knew too well—I froze. The next second, Noah texted me: “Darling, year-end work is too busy. I won’t make the family gathering. I’ll make it up to you next time.” 1 After the surgery, the anesthetic hadn’t fully worn off, but Sarah was already urgently asking the nurse for her phone. “Baby, I hurt so much having the baby. Why aren’t you here with me yet?” “I know you look down on me because I’m just a mistress. Maybe I should just die with the baby then, so I don’t dirty your eyes.” As she spoke, she tried to prop herself up from the bed and head towards the third-floor window. On the phone, Noah’s urgent voice could be heard: “My sweet, I know you’re exhausted from labor. This is when you need me most. I’ve called the private jet and I’m rushing over now.” “I’ve already bought you that Hermes bag you said you liked last time. I’ll pick you and the baby up soon and take you to the best postnatal care center.” Hearing that all-too-familiar voice, my thoughts were pulled back to six years ago. At that time, Noah had just taken over Sterling Holdings. To prove his capabilities, he aggressively expanded the business, gaining both wealth and reputation, which earned him the resentment of many rival companies. On our one-year anniversary, a group of men rushed out of a parking garage and surrounded us. To protect Noah, a dagger was plunged into my abdomen, and the garage quickly became a pool of blood… That day, Noah frantically carried me into the hospital, kneeling and begging the doctors to save me, promising to do anything if they could just make me well. I woke up later, but due to the severe abdominal injuries, I had lost the ability to bear children. At that time, Noah, his eyes red and tearing up, held me. “River, I’m sorry… it’s all my fault. I will protect you for the rest of my life, never letting you suffer another injury.” Seeing the vasectomy consent form he handed me, in that moment, I knew he was the one for me, forever. Now, it all seemed so ridiculous. On the hospital bed, Sarah had already ended the video call, her eyes filled with the satisfaction of a goal achieved. I gave a self-deprecating laugh and asked, “Your child is infected with so many diseases. Will your husband even acknowledge this child?” Sarah’s face flushed slightly. She pulled out her phone, scrolling through her and Noah’s sickening chat history, finally stopping at an image of a will. “My husband already noted in his will that fifty percent of his assets will go to my son. He’s already prepared a multi-million dollar mansion for our son before he’s even born.” “Besides, that old hen at home lost her ability to lay eggs long ago. My husband is practically desperate to get rid of her, so how could he not acknowledge his own biological son?” I clenched my fists, struggling to control my emotions. Sarah, however, mistakenly thought I was jealous of her. She chuckled, leaning closer to my face. “Sister, don’t be jealous of me. I can tell you have good bone structure. It’s okay if you’re a bit older; with some makeup, you could also snag a rich man.” “You should find a man like my husband, utterly devoted to me, making sure everything is taken care of even before the child is born, ensuring our mother and child live without worries for the rest of our lives.” “Since you saved me and the baby, I’ll teach you some tips on how to handle men.” 2 I instinctively recoiled a step, my face unable to hide my disgust. “A man who has a fiancée but still flirts around, that kind of man just sickens me.” Sarah, however, didn’t care, shrugging indifferently. “Men are visual creatures; they have no resistance to young, pretty women, especially when the old woman at home can’t satisfy them. I just crook a finger, and he’s hooked.” “I used to think he had a deep connection with his fiancée, too, until one night his fiancée was in critical condition with a high fever and fainted. The hospital called him, but I just pouted a little, and he stayed with me to play crane games…” “You tell me, how could I easily let go of a man who values me so much?” My hands, clutching the hem of my clothes, trembled. That time I had a high fever and fainted, I almost didn’t make it. He told me he was on a business trip and couldn’t come back, then sent me a designer bag to placate me. Turns out he was with another woman. As she spoke, Sarah’s eyes scrutinized me up and down. “Sister, you look like you haven’t been intimate with a man… Is your relationship with your husband not good?” “Or has your husband also been satisfied by all the pretty women outside and lost interest in you?” “Do you want me to give you some advice?” Looking at Sarah, my breath caught. More than anger, I felt sheer dread. Sarah had been diagnosed with Stage Three Syphilis and severe HIV, so Noah would naturally not be immune. Noah and I had been together for seven years, and every time he brought up intimacy, I had refused, wanting to save the best for our wedding day. Unexpectedly, that decision had saved me. Looking at Sarah’s condition again, the disease had caused skin lesions all over her body, even spreading to her neck. I couldn’t help but frown. “Does your husband know about your medical conditions? You’re both being very irresponsible towards your child.” As a woman, these diseases were Sarah’s most unspeakable, most hidden past, yet I had just blurted them out. Sarah’s eyes instantly widened in fury. “Of course my husband knows! Not only does he know, he doesn’t care about my past. He’s spoiled me rotten all these years and wanted me to have his child!” I didn’t believe a word Sarah said. I knew Noah well; power came first, feelings second. If he had known about Sarah’s condition beforehand, he would never have risked himself by being with a woman riddled with disease. Sarah saw the doubt in my eyes, and she rolled her eyes in displeasure. To prove she was telling the truth, Sarah pulled out her phone and played a recording of her and Noah in a passionate moment. In the recording, their intimate sounds mingled. Sarah pressed against Noah’s chest, her voice tearful. “Noah, darling, if one day you find out I’ve been hurt by someone, and have an illness I shouldn’t have… would you still love me?” “Of course I would, my sweet. You’re always so careful, you couldn’t possibly get sick. Even if by some chance you did, I’d love you no matter what you became. Come quickly… give it to me.” Sarah then lowered her voice, sounding wronged. “But Noah, darling, you have a fiancée. Even if you don’t mind me… surely your fiancée wouldn’t mind? I’m so afraid one day you’ll leave me because of that woman.” Sarah’s crying made Noah heartbroken; he quickly pulled her into his arms. Noah’s dislike for me intensified, his tone abruptly changing, his voice growing cold. “She’s the one who should be sick. Seven years of dating, and she never let me touch her. Maybe she’s the one with an illness she’s afraid for me to discover.” “Let her live her whole life guarding her purity then.” “My sweet, in bed, let’s not talk about that unlucky woman. Come on, let me see if my sweet has gained weight recently…” Sarah held up her phone. What followed were alternating moans and gasps from two people, and a triumphant smile spread across her face. “Sister, if you were Noah’s fiancée, what would you do? You’d probably hang yourself with a rope by now.” “To be such a failure as a woman, it’s only her.” “Slap!” I walked over and slapped Sarah across the face. “You and Noah don’t deserve to be human, and you certainly don’t deserve to be parents!” 3 “Are you crazy?!” “How dare you insult me and Noah?!” Sarah was furious. “As a doctor, you hit a patient without explanation. Is this your medical ethics? I’m going to make everyone judge this!” With that, Sarah pressed the call button for the nurse, loudly shouting to summon all the medical staff. She completely ignored the baby, startled and crying from the commotion, and clutched her own cheek, complaining, “Your doctor here assaulted a new mother! Are there no rules or regulations anymore? I’m calling the police to have her arrested!” I glanced at her disdainfully. “The police will be here, and you’re the one they’ll be arresting!” “Knowing you have syphilis and HIV, you deliberately infected someone else. I merely reminded you of your responsibilities, and you accuse me of lacking medical ethics. Go ahead and call the police. Let’s see who they take away.” As I spoke, I pulled out my phone, pretending to dial the emergency number for her. The nurses around us whispered amongst themselves. Everyone was discreetly aware that Sarah had been admitted as a special patient. They were clearly shocked she was so shameless as to flaunt it. Seeing no one speaking up for her, Sarah grew even more incensed, weeping and complaining, “You’re lying! I didn’t infect anyone… that’s my husband! He knows about this, and he was the one who got sick first!” Sarah pointed her finger at me again. “No matter what, as a doctor, you assaulted a patient. You have no professional ethics! I’m calling the director to complain about you!” The head nurse quickly stepped forward to calm Sarah. “Miss Sarah, Dr. Evans is the top surgeon at our city’s premier hospital. We specifically called Dr. Evans to operate because of your unique condition.” “Dr. Evans is usually very gentle and has won numerous awards in her years of practice, never having any disputes with patients. There might be some misunderstanding. Please have some water and rest, and we’ll mediate.” Sarah eyed me, full of disdain. “A top city doctor, yet so tactless. I wonder what kind of means she used to get where she is. She probably isn’t so clean herself.” The next second, Sarah’s phone rang. From the other end, Noah’s concerned voice could be heard: “My sweet, I’m at the hospital entrance. I’ll be right there.” Sarah instantly dropped her feisty demeanor, crying out plaintively, “Noah, darling, what took you so long? I’ve been bullied!” The head nurse, sensing something amiss, pulled my hand and whispered, “Dr. Evans, thank you for your hard work on this surgery. I see the patient is stable now. We can handle the rest. It’s New Year’s Eve, and I heard your husband is coming back to be with you. You should go home early and spend time together.” Sarah heard the head nurse trying to send me away and immediately complained to Noah on the phone: “Noah, darling, this doctor not only hit me, but she also said our son is sick and won’t live long! Now the head nurse is trying to quietly send her away!” “Noah, darling, I’m so scared alone… Please come quickly and stand up for me and our baby!” Noah couldn’t bear to see his darling suffer. He immediately ordered his security to seal off all hospital exits, disregarding hospital order, prohibiting any medical staff from entering or leaving. “This kind of morally corrupt doctor, I’ll have her blacklisted in the entire city. No hospital will be allowed to hire such a disgraced doctor.” “My sweet, wait for me. I’ll see which doctor is so bold as to touch my Noah Sterling’s woman and child!” Sarah wore a triumphant expression, clearly intending to make me suffer. Everyone in the hospital room was anxious. On one side was the cooperating city hospital, on the other was Noah Sterling of Sterling Holdings. Neither was someone they could afford to offend. I, in contrast, was calmer than anyone present. Sarah hung up the phone and walked over, hooking a finger under my chin, provocatively. “You can still apologize now, it’s not too late. Kneel down and clean my shoes with your tongue, and I might let this go.” The head nurse forced a smile. “Miss Sarah, Dr. Evans did help you and your baby. Maybe we can just let this matter drop?” “She slapped me, and she expects me to just let it go?” Sarah adopted an arrogant pose. “I’m giving her two choices: either she kneels and apologizes to me, or she waits to be blacklisted from all hospitals in Havenwood!” The head nurse looked at me, her expression hesitant and worried. Everyone knew how difficult it was to get into a top city hospital; countless people fought tooth and nail just to get close. For a woman like me to become a leading doctor in such a hospital, the effort involved was unimaginable. If my career was to be destroyed by a single word from Noah, it would be unacceptable for anyone. “What, scared now? It’s not too late to kneel and apologize.” I scoffed, my head held high. “Upholding justice and punishing evil, I did nothing wrong. I will not apologize.” Seeing no sign of me backing down, Sarah’s resentment festered. She glared at me, warning, “You just wait!” With that, Sarah turned and snapped at the head nurse, “I was assaulted in your hospital. You must give me an explanation. Noah can blacklist one person from all hospitals, and he won’t mind adding a few more!” The head nurse, not wanting to make things difficult for me, tugged at my sleeve, about to step forward and apologize, but I pulled her back first. “Smack!” Another slap landed on Sarah’s face, sending her stumbling back several steps. “You actually dared to hit me again!” “I hit you, you arrogant opportunist!” I wanted to step forward and teach her another lesson, but the head nurse and several other medical staff held me back. Sarah dared not cause any more trouble. She clutched her face and rushed out, opening the door and practically throwing herself into a man’s arms. Tears welled in her eyes, and the red imprint of my hand was clearly visible on her cheek. “Noah, darling, you’re finally here! That woman hit me again. Please, you must get justice for me.” “I’ve never been so humiliated in my life, all because you came too late. The baby and I almost didn’t get to see you.” Noah held Sarah, his heart aching. “How incredibly brazen! I’ll see who’s audacious enough to lay a hand on my woman and child!” Sarah wept dramatically in Noah’s arms, a sight that would make even other women feel pity. What man could resist such a woman? “Don’t cry, sweetie. I’ll stand by you.” With that, Sarah led the man into the hospital room. The moment the door opened, Noah and I locked eyes. Noah froze. Sarah, still confused, pointed at me, seething, “Noah, darling, she hit me! You must uphold justice for me!” I looked at Noah impassively. “Mr. Sterling, shouldn’t you be working overtime at the company?”

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1 Ever since I was in my mother’s womb, I’d been fed a steady diet of tragic romance novels, which, predictably, left me with a severe case of paranoia at birth. While other girls gushed about pretty dresses, I’d be crawling in the shadows with my action camera and voice recorder, convinced someone was trying to photograph up my skirt. When others flirted with their crushes, I’d be signing up for every debate club imaginable, fearing I wouldn’t be sharp enough to win an argument. My tongue, they said, could strip paint. Yet, by the time I turned sixteen, the villainess destined to wrong me remained elusive. My parents, kind and gentle; my classmates, endearingly foolish; my teachers, caring and dedicated. I was starting to think I was just plain crazy. Then, they arrived. My biological parents, pulling up in a luxurious car. A beautiful socialite, my birth mother, wept dramatically as she claced me to her chest, but not without protectively clutching the arm of the girl beside her—the imposter daughter. “Darling, from now on, Serena will be your sister. You two must get along beautifully.” Serena, the imposter, offered a sweet smile and agreed. But on her very first day back at the mansion, she slyly slipped a necklace into my pocket, then accused me of being a thief. Her tears flowed like a summer rain, her cries utterly heartbreaking. As everyone’s eyes narrowed in disgust and their voices sharpened with accusations, I, brimming with a strange excitement, calmly pulled out my three action cameras. “Alright, everyone! Let’s review this frame by frame!” … The entire Blackwell family stood dumbfounded. Serena, the imposter daughter, gripped her hands tightly, her eyes wide with disbelief as she stared at my three action cameras. “Th-this, what is this…?” “Oh, just all the footage I’ve recorded since stepping foot into the Blackwell estate,” I chirped, a triumphant glint in my eye. I eagerly grabbed one of the cameras, scrolling through the recordings of my time alone with Serena. “Don’t worry, I’ve got multiple angles. Every detail is captured.” Serena’s face drained of color. Before I could even fast-forward to the relevant timestamp, my cheapskate older brother, Mark Blackwell, scowled. “That’s enough!” he snapped. “Lynn, if you stole it, you stole it. Are you trying to imply Serena framed you? I watched Serena grow up; I know her character better than anyone!” A classic line. I spared him a quick, appreciative glance, then swiftly dragged the video timeline to the exact moment Serena slipped the necklace into my pocket. In the video, Serena held her head high, her face a mask of disdain. “Lynn, don’t think just because you’re a Blackwell by blood that you’re special. Mom, Dad, and Mark—they’ll always prefer me!” “I have a million ways to get rid of you from this family…” “Right here!” I exclaimed, pausing the video. On screen, Serena’s hand hovered by my pocket, a dazzling ruby peeking from between her fingers. I zoomed in, thrusting the magnified image before each Blackwell family member. “See, everyone! Is this enough to prove my innocence?” My birth parents, Mr. and Mrs. Blackwell, were speechless, their gazes flitting between me and the screen with a complex mix of emotions. Mark stared at Serena, utterly bewildered. Seeing the silence, I quickly broke it. “What’s with the quiet? Just tell me, does this video prove I didn’t steal anything?” I turned to Serena. “Serena, since they’re not talking, why don’t you share a few words? Perhaps enlighten us on your thought process for framing me?” Serena’s face was ashen, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I, I didn’t…” Before I could hear anything more, she swayed weakly, then gracefully fainted. My parents and brother, who moments ago were frozen in place, rushed to catch her. “Serena! Serena!” “Quick! Get the car to the hospital!” I, too, hurried over, poking her. “Hey, don’t pass out yet! You haven’t given your confession speech! Finish that, then you can faint.” Mark glared at me, his eyes blazing with fury. “Lynn, are you only satisfied when you’ve turned this family upside down? Serena has fainted, and you’re still tormenting her! Do you have any humanity at all?” I rolled my eyes. “Finding that video was hard work, you know. You haven’t even apologized. Do you have any humanity?” But his ears seemed deaf. He scooped up Serena and rushed out without a backward glance. Whatever. I stretched contentedly, packing away my action cameras. First battle at the Blackwells’—victory! 2 Serena spent three days convalescing ‘weakly’ in the hospital. Mom, Dad, and Mark were all by her side, while I, the newly discovered biological daughter, couldn’t even get a glimpse of them. But I didn’t care one bit. I directed the butler to install cameras in every corner of the mansion, especially in high-risk areas like the staircases. The butler looked utterly bewildered. “Miss Lynn, is Blackwell Manor a particularly dangerous place?” I simply smiled, saying nothing, just insisting on more cameras. On the third day after the camera installation, Serena finally returned from the hospital, looking delicately frail. She leaned into Mom’s embrace, a smug satisfaction twinkling in her eyes. As Mom went to fetch her some water, Serena lifted her chin, ready to unleash a barrage of passive-aggressive remarks. But then, I casually pointed to the ten cameras surrounding us, and she instantly fell silent. Thanks to the watchful eyes of the cameras, I enjoyed a remarkably peaceful afternoon. At dinner, my parents, Mark, and Serena—all of whom I hadn’t seen in ages—gathered together. My parents dished out a spoonful of food for Serena, then for me. “Lynn, darling, Serena is actually a very pure and kind child. It’s just that your sudden return made her feel insecure, which led her to do such things. Your father and I have already spoken to her, and Serena has promised it won’t happen again.” “Can you forgive her?” I was too busy shoveling food into my mouth to answer. They exchanged hesitant glances, then looked around at the cameras peppered across the dining room. “These… are they really necessary?” I quickly swallowed my mouthful and spoke. “Why wouldn’t they be necessary? Do Mom and Dad have something to hide?” Faced with my innocent query, they stammered and hesitated. Seeing this, Mark slammed his bowl onto the table. “Lynn, what is the meaning of this? Is this how your family taught you? No manners at all!” I looked at him, genuinely puzzled. “Does that mean you have something to hide?” Mark spluttered. “What are you talking about? I just can’t stand you targeting Serena.” I feigned understanding. “Oh, so it’s she who has something to hide.” Serena began to weep dramatically, while Mark cursed under his breath. Seeing that they had no further objections, I calmly lowered my head and resumed eating. As I was finishing up, my parents called out to me again. “Lynn, we’ve transferred you to Kingston Academy. Serena is also at that school. Tomorrow, she can introduce you to her friends.” Ah, here it comes! The crucial plot point every imposter daughter must experience! I suppressed the surge of excitement, nodding calmly. The next day, as soon as I opened the car door, Serena shot me a furious glare, her voice low and menacing. “Lynn, Kingston Academy is my territory. If I let you off easy, I’m not a Blackwell.” Seeing my look of utter surprise, she puffed out her chest, triumphant. “Scared, aren’t you? If you’re scared, then get out of the Blackwell house!” “But you’re not a Blackwell by blood, anyway.” Serena’s face twisted in rage. She snarled, “You’ll regret this!” before storming out of the car. I followed her, stepping out and gazing at the grand, imposing academy before me. A thrill of excitement pulsed through me. All these years! I’d painstakingly researched ways for victims of melodrama to fight back. But my kind teachers and foolishly sweet classmates made me feel like a lunatic. Now, finally, I had found my calling! Indeed, heaven-sent talents must have their purpose—and there were always schemers trying to get me! With genuine exhilaration, I adjusted my backpack straps and strode confidently through the main gate! 3 My parents had already arranged everything; Serena and I weren’t in the same class. Yet, as I expected, a subtle hostility lurked in my new classmates’ eyes. So, while the homeroom teacher introduced me, I unzipped my backpack, revealing hundreds of copies of paternity test results I’d printed yesterday. Three sets. One confirming Serena’s biological ties to her birth father. One confirming my biological ties to my birth father, and another with my birth mother. Driven by a scientific, rigorous, and utterly bulletproof approach, I enthusiastically handed them out to every student. “Hello, everyone! My name is Lynn Blackwell. I’m the real daughter of the Blackwell family, recently found after being swapped at birth. I’m not a love child, nor a poor relative from the countryside. I’m the biological daughter who was switched by Serena’s birth mother and then abandoned in a trash can during a snowstorm, in case anyone was wondering.” “I hold a black belt in Taekwondo and am fairly proficient in hand-to-hand combat. However, I am inherently gentle and kind by nature, and I hope we can all get along well.” Amidst the kaleidoscope of expressions on my classmates’ faces, I calmly took my assigned seat. “Oh, and by the way, if anyone is curious or wants to share the DNA test results with a friend, feel free to grab a copy from me anytime!” After the first class, whispers about me filled the room. I ignored them, my head down, focused on my work. After the second class, delicate Serena finally arrived with her two lackeys. She stood by my desk, her voice steeped in theatrical sorrow, loud enough for everyone to hear. “Sister, Mom and Dad asked me to look after you. Are you getting used to things here, coming from your country school?” “I won’t dwell on you putting me in the hospital a few days ago. Can we please stop targeting each other from now on?” She finished with a perfectly pitiful expression. Her two sidekicks, indignantly, chimed in. “Serena, you’re just too kind! How can a poor relative staying in your house bully you? And even try to steal your things!” “What ‘poor relative’? For all we know, she could be a love child!” “Serena, let us teach her a lesson for you!” They angrily moved to confront me, then suddenly noticed the eerie silence in the classroom. This group of students, usually at the peak of their gossiping and righteousness, offered no support. Everyone stared at the three of them with a look of utter bewilderment, as if watching clowns perform. Serena, sensing something was off, said, “Lynn, Mom said you picked up many bad habits in the countryside. Could it be you lied to everyone on your first day? Everyone, I apologize on behalf of my sister if she said anything strange.” Her lackeys were fuming. “Why apologize for her, Serena? How can you be so kind?” “Hey, peasant, get up and apologize to our Miss Serena, or else!” In the suffocating silence, my desk-mate finally couldn’t take it anymore. She picked up one of the paternity reports I’d handed out. “Um… maybe you guys should read this before continuing your performance?” The three paternity reports utterly shattered the facade of righteousness on the lackeys’ faces. “So you’re not the real Blackwell daughter! You’re a liar!” Serena burst into tears and ran off, leaving a classroom full of intrigued students. That evening, Serena was still crying. She’d stormed out of school right after classes, leaving the driver to wait for me, and driven herself home. I, without hesitation, called Mr. and Mrs. Blackwell, their secretary, and their driver—every contact I had. I told them Serena had abandoned me at the school gates, that I couldn’t find my way home. I warned that if a Blackwell car didn’t appear in ten minutes, I’d hang myself from the school gate and shout for all the world to hear that the Blackwells were so broke they couldn’t even afford transport for their child, shaming them all. Within ten minutes, Mr. Blackwell’s driver sped over to pick me up. Mom was hugging the weeping Serena, her face etched with heartache, while a furious Mark charged at me, ready to demand an explanation. “Lynn, didn’t I warn you not to bully Serena? Why did you tell everyone Serena isn’t a Blackwell by blood?” I looked at him, genuinely puzzled. “But… is she a Blackwell by blood?” “It was her mother’s doing! She’s innocent!” “But… is she a Blackwell by blood?” Mark, cornered, pointed a trembling finger at me. “So what? Our bond isn’t something blood can replace! The only sister I acknowledge is Serena!” I stared at him and Serena for a long moment, then my face broke into an expression of dawning realization. Seeing that look, Mark’s face twisted in alarm. “What… what do you mean by that?” “I’ve always wondered why you didn’t care about your real sister, who was swapped at birth and nearly froze to death in a snowstorm. Instead, you constantly defended a girl who’d enjoyed my life for over a decade. I used to think you were just crazy, but now, hearing you say ‘our bond isn’t something blood can replace,’ I finally understand.” Mark’s face registered a flicker of panic. He lunged to cover my mouth, but I was faster. “It’s love, isn’t it?!” 4 Mark’s face flushed a deep crimson, like a bruised plum. “What are you talking about?” “What else could it be? It’s not like you’re actually heartbroken for a girl who stole sixteen years of my privileged life, just to ensure she continues enjoying it, while simultaneously hating me, your real sister, right?” “Anyway, since you two aren’t related by blood, go ahead and fall in love! I totally support it!” On the sofa, Mom, who moments ago had been clinging to Serena, looked as though my words had jolted her. Her trembling hands slowly released Serena. She cast a suspicious glance between Mark and Serena. Mark recoiled, wanting to put eight hundred feet between himself and Serena. “I’m not! I didn’t! I really didn’t!” I leisurely took a sip of tea, pressing my advantage. “If you didn’t, you wouldn’t be questioning your real sister over your imposter sister.” Mark fell silent, his anger extinguished. He mumbled something unintelligible and fled. The next few days were peaceful. Perhaps due to my outburst, the Blackwell parents looked at Serena with a newfound scrutiny. Mark, meanwhile, actively avoided her. My classmates at school were also surprisingly well-behaved. Just as I was starting to fret over the dullness of life, Serena and my birthdays arrived. Mom and Dad announced they would host a joint birthday and official recognition party, formally announcing my identity as the Blackwell family’s second daughter and restoring my rightful surname. As everyone knows, in any novel, a party is always a pivotal event! I charged all my action cameras, then scouted the party venue in advance. Drawing on all the imposter-daughter melodramas I’d ever read, I designed a little surprise—just for Serena. On the day of the party, Serena was immediately surrounded by a flock of socialites, who occasionally shot me contemptuous and mocking glances. I walked straight over to them. “Are you talking about me?” “Do you need me to get you a microphone?” They seemed surprised by my direct approach, their faces flushing with embarrassment. Serena offered her signature sweet smile. “Sister, we were just discussing this year’s jewelry collection from Chaumet. Oh, right, I forgot you grew up in the countryside and probably haven’t heard of it.” A ripple of laughter went through the group. Serena covered her mouth, as if realizing her faux pas. “Sister, it’s almost our turn to go on stage. Shall we go find Mom?” The butler appeared at that moment, escorting us to the second floor. “Madam was chatting with some ladies and accidentally spilled something on her gown. She’s currently changing on the second floor.” I adjusted the action camera clipped to my gown, following them. The butler led us to a room and then left. On the table lay Mother’s gown, and inside the room, there seemed to be nothing that could be used to frame me. Only then did I step inside. But as soon as I entered, my legs suddenly felt weak. From behind, Serena pressed an ether-soaked cloth over my nose. “You bitch, didn’t expect this, did you? I’m not trying to frame you—I’d never fall into the same trap twice!” My eyes widened. My body went limp as I collapsed to the floor. Serena’s voice was filled with venom. “Why didn’t you just die out there? Why come back and steal my parents and brother? Because of you, Mom and Dad are now distant from me!” “I’ve had someone hack all the surveillance on this floor. You’re never going to be seen again.” Just then, a woman pushing a hotel cleaning cart emerged from the inner room. Together, they stuffed me into a trash bin, then clamped the lid shut. The last sliver of light vanished into darkness. My limbs were weak, my consciousness hazy, as I was curled into a ball and crammed into the trash can. “The truck is ready,” Serena said, her eyes gleaming with malice. “My instructions are simple: sell her as far away as possible. I want her to spend the rest of her life in some remote mountain village, bearing children for old men! Understand?” “Lynn, this is the life you deserve.” The trash bin was quietly wheeled out of the room. The stench of garbage mingled with the rumble of a truck engine. I heard someone open the truck’s cargo bay. The truck started gently, pulling away from the hotel. Inside the brightly lit hotel, a voice seemed to announce, “Please welcome Serena to the stage.” Curled up in the trash bin, I secretly curved my lips into a smile. “Serena, happy birthday.” “Live broadcast starting now!”

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The rich kid, Lucas Czuchry, faked bankruptcy, stealing my much-needed scholarship spot. Desperate for the money, I went to confront him, only to overhear his conversation with Jess Thorne. “Thanks to you, Jess, I managed to secure that scholarship. Couldn’t have done it without you.” Jess’s eyes, usually so bright, cast downwards, her tone cool and detached. “Liam is good in every way, but he’s too materialistic and shrewd. Letting him take a hit this time will help temper his character.” So, in her eyes, my poverty was merely “materialistic and shrewd.” We’d known each other for eight years, dated for two. This time, I decided to let go. 1 The private room pulsed with flashing lights and loud music, a blur of red and green. My heart throbbed as I listened to Lucas’s gushing words of gratitude. Someone, feigning a joke, quipped, “Jess, your boyfriend’s family is so poor, are you really letting him suffer?” Jess took a moment, then exhaled a long plume of smoke. “Liam is my boyfriend. If no one else sponsors him, I’ll support him myself.” Lucas, with a smug tilt of his chin, challenged, “Jess, you’re so good to Liam, we’re all jealous. But Liam’s not like us. What if he’s just after your money?” Jess leaned back into the sofa, her tone languid and tinged with condescension. “Liam is good in every way, but he’s too materialistic and shrewd. Letting him take a hit this time will help temper his character.” “You guys never saw it, but he once argued over ten bucks with someone. It was so embarrassing.” “But, if he really likes money, I have plenty. After all, keeping a little bird doesn’t cost much.” The room erupted in laughter, everyone praising Jess’s wisdom. Lucas snorted, “Are you really that fond of Liam?” Jess chuckled lightly, “Yes.” Ha. Is that so? My fists clenched. I couldn’t help but feel a little ridiculous. For two years, while dating Jess, I truly believed she loved me. Even she thought so. But what she loved was Liam—the ambitious, brilliant student who shone brightly at school. She ignored my poverty, the hardship of my struggle to survive, my faded clothes, and my worn-out shoes. A dismissive remark about me being “materialistic and shrewd” branded my very soul. Little did I know this wasn’t love, but a gaze. A condescending gaze from above. So, I pushed open the private room door and walked straight up to Jess, correcting her with a solemn voice: “No. Jess. “You don’t love me.” 2 A deathly silence fell over the private room. Jess had introduced me to her closest friends, so I was somewhat familiar with these faces today. People really are diverse, aren’t they? To my face, they’d call me “brother-in-law,” but behind my back, they reveled in my humiliation, using it for their entertainment. “Liam, you heard all that?” Jess’s eyes flickered. She tried to reach for my hand, but I pulled away. I’d never publicly embarrassed her before, and her face immediately darkened. I offered a slight smile, slipping off the couple’s ring from my finger. “In two years, I only ever asked you for one gift: a two-hundred-dollar matching ring.” My palm turned down, the silver band gleaming under the dim lights. Then, with a soft thud, I tossed it casually onto the floor. I met Jess’s furious gaze, speaking each word clearly and forcefully: “Consider us even. It’s yours now.” “CRASH!” Everyone flinched. Jess slammed her wine glass onto the floor, her eyes burning red. “Liam, are you serious? Over just one scholarship, you’re making such a scene!” Making a scene. The words stung coming from her lips. Jess had forgotten: in high school, to save money, I walked home every day. Some boys publicly called me a hypocrite, claiming a lean, good-looking guy like me was just playing innocent. All along the way, countless girls stared at me. My face flushed, my fists clenched, unsure how to retort. It was Jess who had stepped forward, kicking over the boy’s desk and shielding me. “Liam is mine. If I hear any of you say another bad word about him, try me.” The feeling of falling in love then was real. But the pain now was just as real. Oh, and that boy? That was Lucas. 3 I slowly pulled my thoughts back, my chest rising and falling, finally expelling a sigh of frustration. I figured it must have been Jess’s possessiveness, hearing Lucas mention girls staring at me, that made her so angry. So, it wasn’t entirely for me. It was purely about her pride. Lucas, with a taunting tilt of his chin, cackled incessantly. “Jess, what are you saying? Liam’s angry, go sweet-talk him!” Jess’s eyes were deep and dark, fixed on me like a snake finding its prey. Damp, sticky, and utterly unnerving. That’s how she got when she was angry—not saying a word, but forcing me to appease her. A classic diva tantrum, some would call it. But didn’t poor people deserve to have tempers too? I coldly averted my gaze, turning to Lucas. I asked, with what I considered utmost politeness: “I heard your family went bankrupt?” Lucas froze, then wrinkled his nose, his face openly hostile. “Liam, why do you smell like trash? My family isn’t bankrupt, and don’t come near me, I’m afraid I’ll catch something from you!” I smiled faintly. “Oh? Then why are you on the scholarship list? Could it be that young master Lucas wants to experience life as a scavenger too?” Lucas crossed his arms, rather imperiously. “Liam, Liam, I just wanted to experience how you lower-class people live. But you? You’re destined to pick scraps, always destined to pick scraps. I’ll tell you, it was Jess who deliberately let you use her smartphone so you’d be photographed, and that’s how I got your spot!” Oh, so that’s how it was. I lowered my lashes, a faint pang in my heart. Jess was a germaphobe; she never allowed me to touch her things. I remembered one time, it was raining, and she had a stomachache. I ran to buy her food, and in my haste, I fell and scraped my knee, covered in mud. She frowned at my wound, silent. I urged her to eat, but she simply tossed the food into the trash. She said, “Liam, don’t get hurt for me; it worries me. And also, I don’t like touching things others have touched. It’s dirty.” But her germophobia was fake, and her affection was fake too. She just found me dirty. The earthy smell of rain was exactly like the small shack where my grandfather and I lived. A shack piled high with scrap metal. Lucas was right. I made a living by selling salvaged goods. But I never felt ashamed because of it. 4 “Enough!” Jess suddenly roared. She seemed very tired, rubbing her temples. “Liam, it’s just a scholarship, twenty thousand dollars. Do you really need to fight with Lucas over it? If you need money, I can transfer you five hundred thousand right now.” Jess’s friends immediately chimed in. “Exactly, Liam, Jess still cares for you a lot.” “Liam, I’ll speak fairly. Jess even fell out with Lucas because of you before. She truly loves you.” “It’s just twenty thousand dollars, that’s barely the cost of a pair of shoes. Liam, just forgive Jess this time.” I felt a cold detachment. Twenty thousand dollars might not be much to them, but it was my grandfather’s and my food money for an entire year. Twenty thousand dollars might buy only one pair of shoes on Jess’s feet, but it was the hope I desperately clung to for survival. Last year, when the class representative announced the scholarship selection in the group chat, these spoiled rich kids were laughing and joking. “Who would go for that? Three thousand dollars for one meal?” “Exactly, exactly, I’d look down on anyone who applied for that. Are they really that poor?” Their lives revolved around money, money, and more money. Mine was different; it was filled with poverty, vulnerability, and helplessness. Yes, I was that poor. I needed that money. I couldn’t forget Lucas’s sneering expression when I submitted my application. Nor could I forget the fleeting look of embarrassment on Jess’s face. That day, I broke up with her. Jess refused, pulling me tightly into her arms, apologizing repeatedly. But her way of compensation was to have Lucas take my spot the following year. How ridiculous. Twenty thousand dollars might not be much. But as Jess said, I am materialistic, shrewd, and calculative. So, this was my last shred of dignity. 5 “Jess, you still don’t understand. I said we should break up last year, and you disagreed. So, I’ll say it again.” My voice was soft, yet it carried clearly to everyone in the room. All their faces darkened. I simply smiled and left the private room. Behind me, I faintly heard the sound of things smashing and voices trying to mediate. “Liam is so petty, Jess shouldn’t be with him anymore.” “He really went too far this time. I don’t get what twenty thousand dollars can even do.” … “Pauper,” “excessive,” “disgusting”—these words pierced my ears, but I didn’t care. Outside, it was raining, the sky a gloomy, hazy gray, obscuring my view. Sigh, a little sadness. But when I picked up my phone and listened to the entire recording, I felt much better. Not a single word was missed. It completely documented the truth of how I was wronged, and the fact that Lucas had deliberately taken my spot. I needed that money. I really, really needed it. Just as I finished deleting all of Jess and her friends’ contact information, my phone rang. It was Mr. Peterson, our neighbor. His anxious voice came through: “Liam, where are you? Come home quickly, someone’s here to collect money from your grandfather!” My heart lurched. My mind went blank for nearly three seconds, then I ran home as fast as I could. My grandfather was getting old, his health deteriorating. Not long ago, he’d been hospitalized due to illness. The scholarship money was precisely what I intended to use to pay off the debt. I had set a date with them, and they had agreed, but I never expected them to show up today to collect! My thoughts were a mess, growing more jumbled with every rapid step. Suddenly, I stumbled forward, falling straight into someone’s arms. “Liam? What are you running so fast for? Be careful you don’t fall.” I looked up. It was Iris, a senior from the lab. 6 I didn’t have time to explain to Iris. I quickly thanked her, intending to leave immediately. But Iris held onto me. “Are you in a hurry? If you are, I can drive you.” Without a second thought, I nodded. Iris’s eyes curved slightly, and she led me to her car. Because I was worried about my grandfather, I had chosen a local university when applying. Iris knew this; she had helped me submit my documents when I first joined the lab. The drive was silent. It was Iris who broke it first. “Liam, did something happen at home? Why were you running so fast?” “Yes, my grandfather is in trouble. Someone came to collect a debt.” Iris stopped asking questions. She floored the accelerator, keeping to the fastest possible speed all the way home. As soon as I arrived, I pushed open the car door, only to see my grandfather truly surrounded by those men! “Well, well, the young Mr. Davies is back.” “Don’t blame us for breaking our word. Someone insisted you pay today, so we couldn’t help it, could we?” My grandfather, his back stooped, was trembling. “It’s all my fault, an old man like me, burdening our Liam. I’ll kneel here for you, please don’t make trouble for a young man like him.” “Our Liam still has school, please don’t make things difficult for him! We will pay back this money!” Seeing my grandfather about to kneel, I quickly rushed forward to help him up. A bitter taste filled my mouth, and I clenched my fists before I could compose myself. I forced a calm tone. “Gentlemen, you just said someone demanded I pay today. Could you tell me, who made this demand?” The men exchanged glances. Finally, a burly man with a scar across his face spoke. “Young man, that’s none of your business. Just think about who you’ve had a beef with lately, won’t you?” Inexplicably, Lucas’s name flashed through my mind. The only reason I knew where their gathering was today was because Lucas had sent me a location. It seemed everything was his carefully orchestrated plan! “Can you give me one more month? I’ve applied for a student aid grant, and it should be disbursed in a month. I’ll also work odd jobs this month. Please, just one more month.” The burly man chuckled. “That’s not up to us to decide.” Suddenly, a voice rang out from outside the house: “I’ll pay it for him.”

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“Mr. Jacobs, I didn’t mishear you, did I? You said the main family is giving me a raise?” The man before me was the head butler of the top-tier Jacobs family, and effectively, my boss. I had worked for the Jacobs family for three years, handling all the chores inside and outside the house by myself. Now, the main family was giving me a raise. “Mrs. Peterson, do you have any other thoughts on the salary?” I smiled, untying my apron and gently placing it aside. “No thoughts. I plan to resign.” 1 Mr. Jacobs paused, glancing at the apron, a hint of confusion in his eyes. “Mrs. Peterson, are you dissatisfied with the salary?” I shook my head. “Mr. Jacobs, I simply don’t want to work here anymore.” Three years. From the day I arrived in this big city from the countryside, until now, I had worked for the Jacobs family for three years. Back then, the Jacobs family wasn’t quite as it is today. They had always been a wealthy family, never short on money. However, Mr. Jacobs Sr. was an illegitimate son, and he had married a woman with no family connections or background. When I first arrived, even a junior maid could freely pilfer things from the household. Eventually, I couldn’t stand it anymore and stepped forward. I was a countrywoman, with no grand education, but I understood how to manage people. The method I devised for winning over the staff is still used on new servants in the Jacobs household today. “Mrs. Peterson, you must understand, it’s almost the holidays, the busiest time of the year. If you choose to leave now…” Mr. Jacobs considered his words carefully. “Then we can only pay your salary up to last month. All holiday bonuses and benefits will be forfeited.” “Those things, for me, make little difference whether I have them or not,” I said, shaking my head. “I don’t need them.” Mr. Jacobs’s expression soured slightly. He scrutinized me, his tone filled with bewilderment. “Mrs. Peterson, I know you had a small disagreement with Mrs. Jacobs a few days ago, but you must understand, you are an employee of the Jacobs family. Some matters must naturally prioritize the employer’s opinion.” I smiled faintly, a touch of pallor in my face, and suddenly asked Mr. Jacobs a question. “Mr. Jacobs, do you know what tasks I typically perform?” Mr. Jacobs was visibly stunned and remained silent. I continued speaking, unprompted. “Every morning, I wake up at five, go grocery shopping at five-thirty, make breakfast at six, and remind Mr. and Mrs. Jacobs to get up at six-thirty.” “At seven, I dress and wash Miss Lily, at seven-thirty, I take her to school, and at eight, I prepare formula and change diapers for young Master Ben.” Mr. Jacobs was speechless, about to speak, but I gave him no chance. “Mr. Jacobs, this is just my morning work. I won’t bother to mention my tasks for the afternoon and evening.” “Mrs. Peterson, capable people do more. The Jacobs family is not an ordinary household, and there are indeed many things to be done…” I took a deep breath. “But I’m not the only one in this house.” Mr. Jacobs fell silent. I let out a bitter laugh, turning to leave. Mr. Jacobs’s voice sounded behind me. “Mrs. Peterson, have you truly thought this through? Once the arrow is shot, there’s no turning back. If you regret it later…” “I have.” I met Mr. Jacobs’s gaze, unflinching, my voice firm. Mr. Jacobs sighed. “Do you know? Mrs. Jacobs always refused to give you a raise before.” “What?” This time, it was my turn to be stunned. Mr. Jacobs glanced at me. “A long time ago, I suggested giving you a raise, but Mrs. Jacobs refused.” I was somewhat incredulous. “Why?” Mr. Jacobs touched his nose, a rare hint of guilt in his expression. “She said you were just a housekeeper, and the salary you were already receiving was quite high. There was no need to ‘feed your ambition.’” “Feed my ambition?” I murmured. Me? The person who had diligently managed everything, inside and out, for the mistress for three years? The person who climbed out of bed in the middle of the night whenever young Master Ben cried, to soothe him back to sleep? The person who had been worked like a dog, yet never complained? I had no idea my “ambition” was so great, so overtly displayed that the mistress felt she needed to guard against it? I suddenly burst out laughing. Mr. Jacobs flinched. “Mrs. Peterson, what are you laughing at?” I wiped away the tears that came with my laughter. “Nothing, Mr. Jacobs. Since Mrs. Jacobs has said such a thing, let her see who truly has the biggest appetite.” Mr. Jacobs looked at me disapprovingly. “Mrs. Peterson, you don’t need to be so resentful…” He opened his mouth as if to say more, but I didn’t give him the chance. “Mr. Jacobs, I am not resentful. These are my genuine thoughts.” I smiled at him, then turned and left. The house was quiet. Mr. and Mrs. Jacobs were at work, and the children were at school. The path from the living room to the entryway was one I had walked countless times over these three years. For the last time, I etched everything in my sight into my memory. As I changed my shoes in the entryway, I noticed the scattered slippers by the shoe rack and, instinctively, tidied them. After I finished, I straightened up, paused, and suddenly felt a touch of irony. An unconscious act, one I’d performed countless times over the years, now ingrained in my very being. I closed my eyes, opening the front door without a hint of reluctance. Three years ago, I arrived with nothing. Three years later, I leave, still empty-handed. Passing through the garden, I overheard two maids talking in low voices. “What do you think Mr. Jacobs called Mrs. Peterson for?” “I know! The main family is giving Mrs. Peterson a raise.” “Really? But I heard Mrs. Peterson’s salary hasn’t gone up in years.” “No way. Is her salary only three thousand a month? She seems to do so much work…” One of the maids deliberately lowered her voice, but I still heard her clearly. “Keep your voice down. Mrs. Jacobs once said that Mrs. Peterson, being from the countryside, was already getting too much with three thousand. Give her more, and her ego would swell to the sky…” I didn’t linger to hear more, heading directly to my living quarters. My home was a humble little house in the Jacobs’s backyard. Three years ago, when I first arrived at the Jacobs household, I was dressed in country attire, my face reflecting a complete lack of worldly experience. The person who hired me back then was Mrs. Jacobs Sr., the matriarch. Mrs. Jacobs Sr.’s reputation wasn’t exactly stellar. As the former mistress of the late Mr. Jacobs, even if unknowingly, she had faced much controversy. It wasn’t until she gave birth to Mr. Jacobs Sr. that her situation improved, receiving compensation from the Jacobs family and setting up her own household with her son. Yet, fate had a twisted sense of humor. The late Mr. Jacobs’s other sons had either died or proven useless, leaving only Mr. Jacobs Sr. as a somewhat acceptable heir in his final days. And so, Mr. Jacobs Sr. became the Jacobs family’s successor. Outsiders marveled at Mrs. Jacobs Sr.’s good fortune, but only she knew whether this immense wealth was a blessing or a curse. At that time, Mrs. Jacobs Sr. and Mr. Jacobs Jr. were already married. The matriarch hadn’t anticipated such an opportunity falling to her son, so she had let him follow his own preferences. Mrs. Jacobs Jr. came from an ordinary background; in a prominent family, she was naturally not up to par. The matriarch, a fellow countrywoman of mine, seeing her daughter-in-law making a mess of the Jacobs household, specifically sent someone to invite me. Although I was just a middle-aged woman from the countryside, the matriarch understood that sometimes, we common folk understood more about human nature and practicalities than city dwellers. “Mrs. Peterson, my only concern is my daughter-in-law. She’s never managed such a large household. If the staff below try to deceive her, I need you to keep an eye on things.” The matriarch’s kind, benevolent face as she spoke to me is still vivid in my memory. “Madam, if you trust me, I won’t mess things up for you.” On my first day at the Jacobs’s, I took my post, and there I stood for three years. For that single promise to “keep an eye,” I worked diligently for these three years, believing myself to be clear of conscience. Back then, the Jacobs household had many servants, but all the responsibilities seemed to fall on me alone. “Mrs. Jacobs, shouldn’t we divide the household chores? It would be more organized.” When I cautiously presented my idea to the then-mistress, the refined woman didn’t even look up at me, instead scrutinizing her fingernails. After a long pause, she replied indifferently, “We’ll see. Mrs. Peterson, just take care of your duties.” And so, I worked for three years, and my tasks were never distributed. Every single matter, inside and outside the Jacobs family, had to pass through my hands. The other servants in the house only helped out when the Jacobs family entertained guests. This was all because Mrs. Jacobs felt I was not presentable enough to be in charge, fearing I would embarrass her. Over these years, the Jacobs family’s development stabilized, with prominent figures constantly coming and going. As Mr. and Mrs. Jacobs’s social engagements increased, I spun around like a top every day, tirelessly busy. Whenever the Jacobs couple returned home late at night, they were always greeted by my smiling face and a steaming hot meal. It seemed that somewhere along the line, Mrs. Peterson had become a perpetually on-call presence in the Jacobs household. I no longer remembered how long it had been since I had any private time. Sometimes, in a daze, I would feel like Mr. and Mrs. Jacobs’s old nanny. What was ironic was that, despite constantly calling me “Mrs. Peterson,” the couple never truly held me in their hearts. To them, I was merely a machine, my salary the fuel that kept me serving them. I wasn’t without holidays. In my first year, during the holidays, Mr. and Mrs. Jacobs granted me a month off. I remember clearly: that day, I had just finished packing my things and was about to leave when a maid frantically found me, saying Mrs. Jacobs had fallen and gone into premature labor. I didn’t have time to think, dropping my belongings and rushing her to the hospital. The Jacobs’s maids were all in a state of panic, losing their heads. I was equally terrified, but I still forced myself to settle Mrs. Jacobs, not forgetting to call Mr. Jacobs in the meantime. That holiday season, I spent in the cold hospital corridor. Through the wall, I could hear the joyous laughter of Mr. Jacobs and his new family of three. And just like that, I missed my first long break. The second year, I asked for a vacation, but Mrs. Jacobs objected. “Mrs. Peterson, I’m in confinement. If you leave now, what will happen to me and the baby?” Hearing this, I felt a bit helpless. “Mrs. Jacobs, you could hire a professional postnatal caregiver. After all, I’m not a specialist in that area…” My intention was to offer helpful advice, but Mrs. Jacobs didn’t take it in at all. Instead, she only thought I was trying to be lazy. “Why would I need a postnatal caregiver when I have you? Mrs. Peterson, my mother-in-law didn’t hire you to enjoy yourself. If everyone acted like you, leaving whenever they pleased, what kind of example would that set?” Her words struck me speechless. I really wanted to say that any other servant in the house had more holidays than me, and since starting work, I had only asked for this one time… In the third year, Mrs. Jacobs was expecting young Master Ben. Recalling the past three years, I suddenly realized I had been away from home for a full three years, and hadn’t returned even once. A bitter ache spread across my chest. I blinked, and tears fell silently. What had I gained in these three years? In the first year, the Jacobs family paid me three thousand dollars, with food and lodging included. Mrs. Jacobs Sr. told me this was a trial period for city folks. After the trial, my salary would increase to ten thousand, like the other servants; this was something she had discussed with Mrs. Jacobs Sr. long ago. In the second year, the Jacobs family still paid me three thousand dollars. In the third year, the Jacobs family still paid me three thousand dollars. Unlike other servants, I didn’t have my own separate meals during these three years. Each time, I waited for the Jacobs family to finish eating, then cleaned up the leftovers. I didn’t mind; in my eyes, the Jacobs family ate lavish meals I could only dream of before, and the leftovers were no different from what I was used to eating back in the countryside. As for living arrangements, it was also different from the other servants. Their accommodation was in apartments next to the Jacobs mansion. As for me, Mrs. Jacobs Jr. had me live alone in a small house in the backyard. Calling it a small house, it was actually just two six-square-meter single rooms. I wasn’t without doubts, after all, people are inherently selfish. Seeing those who put in less effort receive better treatment easily makes one feel uneasy. I sought out Mrs. Jacobs Jr. “Mrs. Peterson, are you comparing yourself to the other nannies? They are all hired from an agency and have to give a commission to their company. How can they be compared to someone from the countryside like you?” I opened my mouth to speak. “But Mrs. Jacobs, Mrs. Jacobs Sr. told me my salary…” Mrs. Jacobs Jr. smiled, a look I couldn’t quite decipher hidden in her expression. “Mrs. Peterson, you are my family’s employee, so naturally, you’ll receive the treatment I deem appropriate for my family.” I fell silent. I had thought that after so many things, my heart had already grown numb. Yet, upon hearing Mr. Jacobs utter those words, my heart couldn’t help but tremble. “Feed my ambition?” Actually, I had overheard Mrs. Jacobs and Mr. Jacobs chatting that day. “Mrs. Jacobs, Mrs. Peterson has put in so much hard work over the years, even if it’s not recognized. Don’t you think her salary should be increased?” I stood not far off, and hearing Mr. Jacobs’s words, my eyes involuntarily welled up. To avoid drawing attention, I didn’t linger to listen, turning to leave instead, naturally missing Mrs. Jacobs’s subsequent remarks. Later, when my salary wasn’t increased, I naturally deduced something was amiss. Even now, I still find it laughable. For three years, I worked diligently, day in and day out, for that three-thousand-dollar salary, working myself sick. Even so, Mrs. Jacobs still thought my ambition was too great? As a housekeeper, cook, and postnatal caregiver, my monthly salary was only three thousand. Meanwhile, the new recruits the Jacobs family continuously hired from agencies all started with a base salary of ten thousand. Every new hire was placed under my guidance by Mr. Jacobs, so I naturally knew their situation intimately. Watching those I had trained perform the easiest tasks, yet earn several times my salary, who wouldn’t feel resentful? Each month, when I received my salary, I would discreetly mention to Mr. Jacobs that I wanted to apply for a raise, after all, that three thousand was initially agreed upon as an internship wage. But each time, Mr. Jacobs would equivocate, brushing it off with vague responses. “Mrs. Peterson, I will convey your request to the main family, but don’t be too impatient.” “After all, the Jacobs family has so many servants, and Mr. and Mrs. Jacobs are so busy. It’s normal for them to overlook things for a while.” And so, I waited year after year, only to be told I had “big ambitions.” Of all the servants in the Jacobs household, only I genuinely wished for the Jacobs family’s true well-being. Only I truly treated all matters of the Jacobs family as my own, personally handling everything. You all spoke of fearing you’d “feed my ambition,” so now, let me show you whose ambition is truly grand. I silently packed my belongings, no longer dwelling on things. Halfway through, Mrs. Jacobs came to find me. She had likely just returned from work and heard Mr. Jacobs’s report. I glanced at Mrs. Jacobs, saying nothing. In all these years, this was the first time she had condescended to visit my living quarters. “Mrs. Peterson, Mr. Jacobs tells me you wish to resign?” Seeing my continued silence, a flicker of displeasure crossed Mrs. Jacobs’s face, but she patiently pressed on. I nodded, answering without servility. “Yes, Mrs. Jacobs. My things are packed; I will be leaving shortly.” “Mrs. Peterson, the holidays are almost here. Isn’t it a bit impulsive to leave now?” A rare hint of surprise flickered across Mrs. Jacobs’s face. “Mr. Jacobs’s words imply that you’re leaving because you’re unhappy with the salary?” I shook my head. “No, Mrs. Jacobs. I simply don’t want to work anymore; it’s for personal reasons.” “Mrs. Peterson, I’m not saying this to be mean, but at your age, if you choose to resign now, it will be very difficult to find another job like this. Or have you already been poached by someone?” Facing Mrs. Jacobs’s scrutinizing gaze, I sneered inwardly. “No.” This time, Mrs. Jacobs completely lost her composure. She looked at me in disbelief. “Since none of those are your reasons for leaving, Mrs. Peterson, don’t tell me you want to leave because you have an issue with me?” “I know you’re capable, but nannies are a dime a dozen. If it weren’t for my mother-in-law, I could replace you anytime with someone younger and more efficient.” By the end, there was a subtle hint of threat in Mrs. Jacobs’s tone. Hearing this, I sighed deeply, suddenly weary of life in the Jacobs household. What else was there to say? “Mrs. Jacobs, do you know what tasks I perform every day?” I asked Mrs. Jacobs the same question I had just asked Mr. Jacobs. This time, it was Mrs. Jacobs’s turn to be stunned. I smiled at Mrs. Jacobs, said nothing, and turned to continue packing my things. Since Mrs. Jacobs said anyone could replace me, why should I stay here and make a fool of myself? After finishing my packing, I left just as the Jacobs family’s other servants were finishing their shifts. Looking at the lights illuminating the Jacobs mansion, my nose stung. For three years, this was the first time I could leave as soon as work hours ended. Usually, at this time, I had no concept of personal time. My routine was different from the other servants; even after their shift ended, I still had to serve the Jacobs family. But starting today, I would no longer be bound by these things. Carrying my belongings, I stood on the empty street, feeling a sense of bewilderment for the first time. Where should I go? For some reason, Mrs. Jacobs’s words suddenly came to mind: “Those servants are all hired from agencies. How can they compare to someone from the countryside with no connections or background like you?” My fingers curled slightly. I hailed a taxi and, following the directions, found a domestic staffing agency. Standing before the tall building, dressed simply and carrying a worn suitcase, I felt utterly out of place. For the first time, a sense of timidity rose within me. I doubted whether I would be deemed suitable. “Hello, Mrs. Peterson, are you here to apply for a position?” The person who greeted me was a very young woman. After learning my request, she first asked me a few simple questions, then took me to a room to perform some basic housework tests. After seeing the test results, the young woman’s face showed a hint of satisfaction. “Alright, Mrs. Peterson, we’ll introduce you to your first client family. This family is mainly looking to hire a postnatal caregiver for their child, offering a salary of around one hundred thousand dollars. Are you satisfied with that?” I froze, repeating in disbelief, “One hundred thousand?” The young woman nodded. Seeing my complex expression, she couldn’t help but ask further, “Well, Mrs. Peterson, you have extensive experience, and based on the test, it’s clear you’re very knowledgeable about all aspects of household tasks. One hundred thousand is only considered a moderate salary.” “If I may be so bold as to ask, what was your salary at your previous employer?” I opened my mouth with difficulty. “Three thousand.” The young woman paused, then looked at me, her gaze filled with a touch of sympathy. “Mrs. Peterson, are you serious? Then they clearly didn’t recognize your worth! Don’t worry, leave it to our company. We will definitely find you the best-paying job.” After a simple interview, I successfully signed a contract with the domestic staffing agency. After moving into the apartment the agency arranged for me, I was still in a state of bewilderment. It turned out I wasn’t as pathetic as Mrs. Jacobs had claimed. It turned out that in the outside world, my value was far greater than I had imagined. The thought of being confined to the Jacobs household for three full years brought tears to my eyes. Fortunately, all of that was in the past.

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Dustin Hayes had kept me for three years, and everyone in the circle called me his pet. The day his first love, Scarlett Vance, returned, he told me to get lost. I not only got lost but also thoughtfully handed him a thick stack of papers. Dustin thought it was a letter of apology. He scoffed, opening it, but his smile froze. It was a “Service Itemized Bill” for the past one thousand and ninety-five days: “Hand-holding fee: $5,000/time; Drink-blocking fee: $20,000/bottle; Fake orgasm fee: $100,000/time (including acting premium).” I extended my hand, neither servile nor arrogant. “Mr. Hayes, once the final payment is cleared, we’re even.” Dustin’s eyes blazed as he shredded the document. “Aurora Miller, was there no genuine feeling in you during your time in this house?” I blinked, pulling out my calculator. “Genuine feeling? That’s an extra charge, Mr. Hayes. You didn’t purchase that.” 1 Dustin’s hand loosened, and the shredded paper fluttered down like snowflakes. “Aurora Miller, you’ve been in this house for three years. I was so good to you. You treated it like a business?” His voice was a furious hiss, thick with disbelief. “Mr. Hayes, that’s not fair to say.” I straightened my back. “Your ‘goodness’ to me… are you referring to the times these past three years when you’d get drunk and call Ms. Vance’s name, and I’d have to imitate her voice to coax you to sleep?” “Or when you’d bring me to parties, letting those trust fund brats mock me as a ‘knock-off’ while you silently stood by?” “Or was it…” “Are you blaming me?” He sneered, taking a step closer, his intimidating presence pressing down on me. “Mr. Hayes, what a thing to say.” I looked up, flashing the impeccable, professional smile he used to love. “I majored in finance. I don’t do unprofitable deals. For three years, I blocked eighty-six drinks for you, dealt with twenty-four gold-diggers trying to worm their way in, and had to cater to your emotional needs every night. These are all labor costs.” “Zero—eighty-six multiplied by ten, plus…” I shoved the calculator screen into his face. “Let’s round it down to $24 million. Considering you’re bringing Ms. Vance back, I’ll give you a two percent discount. I wish you both a hundred years of happiness.” Dustin glared at the number, his chest heaving violently. “Fine. Very fine.” He waved his hand, sweeping the calculator to the floor. Dustin looked at me. “The Miller family still owes me fifty million. If you leave now, how will that debt be settled?” I crouched down, picked up the calculator, and reset it. “Mr. Hayes has a poor memory,” I said, standing up and dusting off my knees. “The merger I helped you secure last month, with the commission and my base salary, perfectly offset the last portion of the debt. The bank statement was sent to your email yesterday.” Dustin hadn’t checked his email. He sat on the couch and lit a cigarette. Smoke rose, obscuring his eyes. “So, you use me up and then want to leave?” He exhaled a smoke ring. “Scarlett just got back, and you’re in such a hurry to disrespect me?” “The contract expired,” I corrected him. “My employment with you ends today.” The sound of the fingerprint lock unlocking echoed from the entryway. The door opened. Scarlett Vance stood there in a white dress, holding a limited-edition Hermes bag. She saw the shredded paper on the floor, then looked at me. “Dustin, am I interrupting?” Scarlett stood still, clutching her bag strap. Dustin snuffed out his cigarette and stood up, walking toward Scarlett. As he passed me, he deliberately bumped my shoulder. The force was heavy. I staggered half a step, barely keeping my balance. Dustin took Scarlett’s bag, placed it on the cabinet, then turned to look at me. “Who said you could leave?” He sneered. “When you signed the contract, supplementary clause number ten stated clearly: ‘Before Party A agrees to terminate the contract, Party B must unconditionally renew for three months as a transition period.’” He lifted his chin, gesturing toward Scarlett. “Scarlett just returned from abroad. She’s delicate and can’t handle stress.” He continued, “I won’t find anyone suitable so quickly. Until I find a professional caretaker, you’ll stay and serve her.” I was stunned. “Mr. Hayes, won’t you find me an eyesore?” Dustin didn’t speak, just stared at me coldly. I took a deep breath, relighting the screen of my calculator. “That’s an extra charge.” The next morning, at six AM. I woke up precisely on time and appeared in the kitchen. Dustin had a stomach condition, so his breakfast was always freshly ground black soybean milk and warm sandwiches. Scarlett had low blood sugar, requiring bird’s nest soup no matter how late she woke. These were all part of my “professional skill set.” At seven-thirty, Dustin came downstairs. He wore a dark grey custom suit, his tie still undone. In the past, I would have walked over, taken his tie, and stood on tiptoes to knot it for him. That was my “Warm Morning Service,” priced at two thousand per instance. Today, I merely stood behind the counter, chopping fruit. Dustin walked to the dining table, pulled out a chair, and sat down. He glanced at the empty table, then at me. “My tie,” he said. I put down my knife, dried my hands, and walked over to him. But instead of taking his tie, I pulled out my phone and displayed a QR code for payment. “Tie-tying service, two thousand per instance.” I held the screen to him. “Mr. Hayes, please scan first.” Dustin’s movements halted. He stared at the QR code, his chest rising and falling slightly. “Aurora Miller,” he used my full name, “are you obsessed with money?” “Professionalism,” I replied, expressionless. “No credit.” Footsteps sounded on the stairs. Scarlett came down in silk pajamas, her face flushed with sleep. “Dustin, are you arguing so early?” She walked to Dustin’s side, naturally taking the tie from his hand. “Let me help you. Aurora used to be a socialite too; she’s not used to these servant tasks.” She stood on tiptoes, clumsily fumbling with the tie around Dustin’s neck. Dustin didn’t push her away, his eyes fixed on me. Scarlett tried three times, the tie knot crooked and loose around Dustin’s neck. “Oh, it’s so hard,” Scarlett pouted. “Dustin, am I very clumsy?” Dustin finally tore his gaze from me, looking down at Scarlett. “It’s fine. I’m not in a hurry.” He gently held Scarlett’s hands, teaching her how to tie the knot. They were close, their breaths mingling. I stood beside them, checking my watch. Seven forty-five. “Mr. Hayes, Ms. Vance,” I began. “According to the agreement, my work hours begin when you both start your meal. Since this is currently a teaching session, I’ll return to my room.” I turned to leave. “Stop.” Dustin’s voice was cold. I paused. “Come here.” Dustin pointed at the bird’s nest soup on the table. “Scarlett’s hands are sensitive to heat. You feed her.” Scarlett’s face reddened. “No need, Dustin, I can manage myself…” “Let her feed you.” Dustin looked at me, his eyes chilling. “She’s getting paid, so she should do the work.” I walked to the table and picked up the steaming bowl of bird’s nest soup. I stirred it with the spoon, a wisp of steam rising. I scooped a spoonful and brought it to Scarlett’s lips. Scarlett glanced at Dustin, then opened her mouth. The moment the spoon touched her lips, she suddenly flinched, leaning her head back and wildly swinging her hand. “It’s so hot!” she cried. The porcelain bowl crashed to the floor. The scalding bird’s nest soup splattered, a large portion hitting the back of my hand and wrist. My skin immediately turned red. Scarlett clutched her chest, her eyes welling up. “I’m sorry, Aurora, I didn’t mean to, it was really too hot…” Dustin immediately pulled Scarlett closer, checking her face and neck. “Did you get burned?” he asked, his voice anxious. After confirming Scarlett was fine, he turned to look at me. Two shiny blisters had formed on the back of my hand. Dustin’s gaze lingered on my hand for a second, then moved away. “You can’t even do such a simple task.” Dustin said. “Clean it up.” I lowered my hand, the blisters stinging as they brushed against my sleeve. “Understood,” I said. I bent down, picking up the shattered porcelain pieces from the floor. My hands pricked with blood, but I didn’t say a word. At eight PM, there was a private dinner at the Hayes mansion. It was to celebrate Scarlett’s return. Dustin had given me a black uniform, assigning me the task of serving drinks and guiding guests. I, the former partner, was now a server. Everyone in the elite circle found it amusing, eager to see the fallen socialite Aurora Miller made a spectacle of. I changed into my uniform and moved through the crowd with a tray. Someone deliberately bumped my shoulder, spilling wine. “Well, well, isn’t that Aurora Miller?” a woman in a red dress giggled, covering her mouth. “What, did Mr. Hayes not give you a severance package?” I recognized her. In the past, to curry favor with Dustin, I’d been forced to drink three shots of hard liquor for her. “Ms. Sterling,” I took out a cloth and wiped the tray. “Champagne is ten thousand a bottle. You spilled half a glass, so that’s five thousand for the damage. Card or transfer?” The woman’s face changed. “Are you crazy?” “If you don’t want to pay,” I pointed to Dustin not far away, “that’s my employer. You can complain to him and have him deduct it from my salary, but he usually demands ten times the compensation from the person who caused the damage.” The woman glared at me and left. In the center of the hall, Dustin, arm in arm with Scarlett, was toasting guests. Scarlett wore a couture gown, a sapphire necklace adorning her neck. I had seen that necklace before. It was my late mother’s heirloom, and the most valuable item I’d pawned to Dustin. I stood in the shadows, watching the necklace sparkle under the lights. Dustin seemed to sense my gaze and turned his head. He raised his wine glass, toasting vaguely in my direction. A hint of mockery played on his lips. Scarlett followed his gaze, then leaned in and whispered something to Dustin. Dustin nodded. Scarlett gracefully walked towards me. She stood before me, her fingers caressing the necklace. “Aurora, Dustin said this necklace was your mother’s,” Scarlett said with a smile. “It’s beautiful, I really love it. He said he gave it to me, you don’t mind, do you?” I looked at the sapphire. “It’s his property,” I said, my voice low. “It has nothing to do with me.” “As long as you don’t mind.” Scarlett took a glass of red wine from a waiter’s tray. “To show my gratitude, I’d like to toast you.” She held out the glass to me. I reached out to take it. Scarlett’s hand suddenly released its grip. The glass didn’t land in my hand; instead, it dropped directly onto her skirt. Red wine splattered, staining the white fabric. “Ah!” Scarlett shrieked, stepping back two paces, even stumbling and falling to the floor. The surroundings instantly fell silent. Dustin pushed through the crowd, rushing over to help Scarlett up. “What happened?” he asked, his voice dark as he looked at Scarlett’s disheveled state. Scarlett’s tears fell. “It’s not Aurora’s fault… I just didn’t hold it steady… maybe Aurora just didn’t want me to have the necklace…” Dustin’s head snapped up to look at me. I looked back at him. I offered no defense, because defending myself was not within my service scope. “Apologize,” Dustin said. I didn’t move. “Aurora Miller, I told you to apologize.” Dustin stood up, taking a step closer to me. “You’re a server here now. You soiled a guest’s dress; shouldn’t you apologize?” Everyone around us was watching the drama unfold. I calculated. If I didn’t apologize, he might deduct all my outstanding payments, or even use it as an excuse to keep the necklace. If I apologized, my dignity would be compromised, but I’d get the money. Dignity wasn’t worth anything. I bent at the waist, a ninety-degree bow. “I’m sorry, Ms. Vance,” my voice was steady. “My hand slipped and soiled your dress. I will cover the cleaning fee.” Dustin looked at me, then suddenly let out a cold laugh. “Compensation? Can you afford it?” He grabbed a bottle of red wine from the table. He pulled out the cork. Red liquid poured over my head. It was icy cold, sticky, and smelled of alcohol, running over my eyes, into my mouth. “This is compensation.” Dustin placed the empty bottle on the table. I closed my eyes, enduring the flow of liquid. “Understood, Mr. Hayes,” I said, wiping wine from my face. “Are we even now?” Scarlett, seemingly “shocked,” developed a high fever that night. Dustin summoned the entire team of family doctors to the villa. I also had a fever. The wine poured on me hadn’t been washed off in time, coupled with days of non-stop work, and I too had fallen ill. But I was in the maid’s quarters; no one knew. At 10 PM. My phone suddenly vibrated. It was the hospital. “Ms. Miller, your father has suffered a sudden heart attack and is in critical condition. He needs surgery immediately, costing fifty thousand dollars. If payment isn’t received within half an hour, we can’t proceed.” I sat up in bed, my head spinning. I checked my balance. Only thirty thousand. All my previous money had gone to debt, and my salary hadn’t been processed yet. I stumbled out of the room and rushed upstairs to the second floor. The master bedroom door was ajar. Dustin was sitting by the bed, feeding Scarlett water. I pushed the door open. Dustin frowned, turning back. “Who let you in? Get out.” I clutched the doorframe, supporting myself. “Dustin,” my voice was hoarse, “pay me my wages. Now.” “Are you insane?” Dustin put down the water glass, lowering his voice. “Quiet down, Scarlett just fell asleep.” “My dad is in the hospital, fighting for his life.” I stared at him. “I need money. It’s what I’m owed.” Dustin stood up, walked to the door, pushed me out, and then closed the door behind him. In the hallway, he looked down at me. “Your dad’s fighting for his life?” Dustin sneered. “Aurora Miller, to get money, you’d even tell such a lie? Didn’t you say last month your dad was recovering?” “It’s true.” I grabbed his sleeve. “Please. Give me the remaining payment. Even twenty thousand would help.” Dustin shook off my hand. I hit the wall, sliding to the floor. “No.” Dustin straightened his cuff. “If you want money, kneel here. Kneel until morning, and I’ll believe you.” With that, he turned to go back into the room. “Dustin!” I called out to him. “That’s a human life!” Dustin stopped, but didn’t turn around. “Scarlett had a nightmare just now; she needs company,” he said. “Don’t make any more noise, or you won’t get a single penny.” The door closed. The hallway was utterly silent. I pulled out my phone, sending messages to everyone in my contacts, begging for money. No one replied. Old friends had long since blocked me. Time ticked by, second by second. Until midnight. My phone vibrated again. It was a text message, from the hospital. [Patient John Miller, despite all efforts, passed away at eleven fifty-eight PM. Please come to the hospital as soon as possible to handle the arrangements.] I stared at the words on the screen. I knew each one, but I couldn’t grasp what they meant together. From inside the room, Scarlett’s soft voice reached me: “Dustin, I’m scared…” Then Dustin’s gentle whisper: “Don’t be afraid, I’m here.” I pushed myself up against the wall, slowly standing. The fever seemed to have broken. My body felt strangely cold, and strangely light. I turned, and went downstairs. Back in the maid’s room, I opened my suitcase. Inside were only a few old clothes. I took out the “Service Itemized Bill” I’d kept for three years and placed it on the table. Picking up a pen, I wrote a line on the last page. [Funeral expenses: Priceless.] [Status: Paid by Aurora Miller herself.] [Balance: We’re even.] I tore off this page and taped it to the door. Then, dragging my suitcase, I walked out of the Hayes mansion. Outside, it was raining heavily. I didn’t have an umbrella. The rain washed away the lingering smell of red wine on me. I pulled the SIM card from my phone and threw it into a roadside drain. This time, no calculator was needed. Our accounts were settled.

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The day I was released from prison, Selena Lark stood by the roadside, sheltering under a black umbrella. Beside her was a little girl, whose eyes were uncannily like Nathan Slate’. Her voice, dampened by the rain, trembled: “Alec.” “I’ve waited eight years for you.” I walked around her, my steps unwavering. The little girl suddenly rushed over and hugged my leg: “Mommy says you’re my daddy.” My body stiffened. I looked down at the pendant clutched in her hand. It was the token of love I’d given Selena. But I’d smashed it the day our divorce was finalized. “Let go.” I pried her hands away, my voice icy. Selena’s face instantly paled. She caught up to me, grabbing my wrist. “Alec, I know you hate me, but after you went in, I had an early birth with Sandy. I only found out she was Nathan’s child after a paternity test!” She pleaded, “I’m sorry for what I did to you, but Sandy is innocent. If you’re willing, she can take care of you in your old age. I’ll talk to Nathan; he wouldn’t dare disagree.” “No need.” I pulled my hand free, my gaze calm. “I don’t need her, and I don’t need you, who sent me to prison.” After all, someone had been waiting for me outside all these years. I’d promised her we’d get married the moment I was free. 1 “Alec, how can you say that? I had my reasons, you—” “Does it still matter?” I interrupted her, my voice cold. Ignoring her complicated expression, I turned and walked away. But I hadn’t expected the scene to be captured by a hidden reporter. The hashtag #AlecBriarDisownsDaughterUponReleaseFromPrison# broke a hundred million views within three hours. In the candid photos: I pushed away the little girl’s hand, Selena frantically chasing me in the rain. She held a ruined high heel in one hand, her daughter’s hand in the other, clutching the umbrella pitifully between her shoulder and head. The caption read: [Abandoning his wife and daughter + corporate fraud. How does a man like this deserve to be released?] The comment section exploded. [Ms. Lark is so tragic! Scammed out of her money and feelings by Alec, raising her child alone, and now being treated like this!] [That little girl is so pathetic, called ‘Daddy’ only to be harshly pushed away. Alec is utterly inhuman!] [Where’s Mr. Slate? Where’s our Ms. Lark’s knight in shining armor? Why isn’t he protecting her!] Nathan Slate, now an industry titan. And my former mentee. He quickly posted an update, a photo of him holding Sandy, with the caption: [Some people harbor dark intentions, some let bygones be bygones. Right and wrong have always been in the heart.] Below it were comments overflowing with sympathy for Selena and curses hurled at me, calling me heartless. I turned off my phone, walking alone into the rain. Just as I reached my rented room in the old part of town, there was a knock at the door. It was Mr. Thompson, my father’s old subordinate. He handed me a rusty USB drive: “Young master, the late chairman hid this in his safe. He said only you could see it.” I let out a self-deprecating laugh. “Mr. Thompson, don’t call me ‘young master’ anymore. The Briar family is ruined.” I paused, my grip tightening on the USB drive, knuckles white. “My father… how did he die?” Eight years ago, after I was imprisoned, my father’s company went bankrupt overnight. Even the news of his death by jumping from a building was told to me by a prison guard. Mr. Thompson’s eyes reddened: “The chairman didn’t commit suicide. He was pushed. The scene was staged to look like an accident.” I plugged the USB drive into my laptop. The moment the video loaded, a chill spread through my veins. In the footage, my father was bound and thrown to the ground. Nathan Slate held a blood-stained knife to his throat. Selena Lark stood nearby, her abdomen slightly swollen, her face filled with terror: “Dad, just hand over the documents. I’m pregnant; Nathan can’t get into trouble!” My father trembled with rage: “Selena, you fool! Alec gave you everything, what is this Nathan Slate? Our Briar family showed him such kindness, and you’re conspiring with him to harm us!” “Dad, I had no choice!” Selena’s voice was tearful. “Sandy can’t be without a father. Alec is already in prison; if Nathan also falls, what will happen to us, mother and child?” She continued, “Just consider it for your granddaughter; hand over the items.” “You… you want my granddaughter to recognize her enemy as her father? You’re truly something!” Nathan Slate sneered, pushing the blade deeper. “Stop wasting time with him! Old man, don’t be ungrateful. If you don’t speak, I’ll make your granddaughter watch you die!” The video abruptly cut off amid my father’s enraged roar. I slammed the laptop shut. The fury in my chest threatened to consume all reason. My phone rang abruptly. An unknown number. But when I answered, it was the voice etched into my bones. “Alec, are you alright? Did you find a place to stay?” Selena Lark’s voice carried a cautious probe. “I know you hate me now, but I truly had difficulties back then.” “Difficulties?” I curled my lip, memories flooding back. In my senior year of high school, Selena was cornered in an alley by thugs who tried to steal her living expenses. I rushed forward, taking three punches for her, and slipped her my last fifty dollars. She was saved by me, crying that she had no money, all her family’s income went to support her younger brother. Even next semester’s tuition was uncertain. Seeing a delicate girl sobbing heartbrokenly before me, my heart softened. I ended up giving her the money I had saved for my own tuition. I said it was fine, my family wasn’t short on money, I’d just ask my father for more. But behind her back, I worked one odd job after another. Classes during the day, part-time jobs at night. It took me three full months to save enough for new tuition. Unfortunately, she eventually found out. That night, she couldn’t bear to take the bus, choosing to walk to save a dollar. I was hit by a bottle from a customer at a night market stall. She rushed up to protect me. Though much smaller than me, she erupted with astonishing strength. She wielded the shattered half of the bottle, roaring: “Who dares bully Alec, I’ll kill him! If you’re not afraid of death, come on!” That night, two vulnerable souls huddled together, and our feelings for each other grew unconsciously. After graduating from college, we squeezed into a rented apartment to start a business. She would hunch over the desk, drawing blueprints, while I stayed up all night writing code. When hungry, we’d cook a bowl of instant noodles and share it. She held my face and said: “Alec, when we succeed, I’ll marry you and be good to you my whole life.” The day our startup succeeded, I knelt on one knee and placed a custom ring on her finger: “Selena Lark, for the rest of our lives, I’ll protect you completely.” She cried and nodded, promising never to betray me. And Nathan Slate, he was my junior from my third year of college. His family was poor, his mother critically ill, his father had been in a truck accident, leaving the family deeply in debt. At that time, my father had already succeeded in his business, owning his first company. Upon learning of Nathan’s situation, my father generously covered all his mother’s medical expenses and sponsored his education. Nathan, with red eyes, knelt in our living room, swearing: “Alec, Uncle, you are like my second parents. I will definitely repay you well in the future.” My father patted his shoulder and said: “Work hard with Alec; our Briar family will not treat you unfairly.” I hired him into the company, personally teaching him core technologies, and gave him important projects to gain experience. Even when his mother passed away, I stayed with him for three days and nights, covering his funeral expenses. My father treated him like his own son, inviting him home for meals on holidays and stuffing red envelopes with cash into his hand. He even used his connections to sort out his sister’s enrollment issues. My father often said: “Nathan, you and Alec are like brothers. You’ll grow the company together in the future, supporting each other.” But our heartfelt generosity was met with a stab in the back. My new technology was at a critical stage. Nathan frequently stayed in the office until late at night, under the guise of asking for guidance. I answered all his questions without reservation, even giving him unencrypted code for reference. Selena also started coming home late more often. She always carried a strange perfume scent. Much later, I found out she wore perfume to cover up something sickening. But when I asked, she only said work was busy and told me not to overthink it. She also said Nathan was family and we should take good care of him. It wasn’t until the night before the tech launch that I caught her and Nathan kissing in the office. My core code was being used as a cushion, pressed under Selena’s bodycon dress. Caught in the act, she showed no remorse. “Alec, I’m sorry.” “Nathan doesn’t have as good a family background as you. The new technology can only achieve its maximum value with him.” I clenched my fist, my knuckles turning white. I slammed it on the desk, blood instantly staining the documents. “I ate instant noodles with you for three years, shielded you from countless difficulties, pulled you out of the mud, and now you’re telling me you’ve changed your mind?” “Alec, don’t get agitated.” Nathan wrapped his arm around Selena’s waist, looking at me provocatively. “Those were all your choices. A respectable Briar family heir wouldn’t want to take back such trivial things, would he?” Seeing Selena’s cautious, on-guard expression, I laughed until I was breathless, but tears welled up. “This company, my technology, everything I have, who was it all for? Selena Lark, you said you’d never betray me. Were your vows just meaningless words?” She turned her face away, her voice cold. “Vows aren’t to be taken seriously, Alec. Let’s part amicably.” I thought that night’s betrayal was hell on earth. Until the car accident, when I was severely injured and fell into a coma. When I woke up, what awaited me wasn’t comfort, but cold handcuffs. Selena Lark stood in the witness box, wearing a proper suit, her eyes cold: “I personally saw Alec tamper with data, steal company technology, and attempt to frame Nathan Slate.” She even produced fabricated chat records. Every word, every sentence, nailed me to the pillar of shame. Watching her righteously denounce me, at that moment, I no longer had the strength to even defend myself. Three months into my imprisonment, Selena came to see me. She wore an expensive dress, her makeup perfect. A stark contrast to my prison uniform. She pushed a divorce agreement across to me: “Alec, sign it. I had no choice.” “I’m pregnant, the child is yours. You can’t let her be born with a father in prison.” She added, “I’m begging you, let me go.” I looked at her, then suddenly laughed, a profound sorrow piercing my heart. “You and he conspired to harm my parents, ruined my life, and now you’re asking me to let you go?” My voice grew increasingly frantic. “If I let you go, who will let me go? Who will let the Briar family go?!” Her voice was pleading, yet her attitude was condescending. “For the sake of all our years together, don’t make things difficult for me.” She pressed, “Sign it. It’s better for both of us.” I stared at the woman I once loved to my bones, my heart feeling as if countless needles were piercing it. My hand trembled as I picked up the pen and signed my name on the divorce agreement. Each stroke was like carving my own tombstone. From that day on, my youth, all my love and faith, came to an abrupt end. When the news came that my father, unable to bear the blow, had jumped to his death, I screamed in rage in prison, only to be met with the cold stares of the guards. Meanwhile, they—one soared in success with the technology I developed, the other, pregnant with her enemy’s child, took over my father’s company. They reveled in everything that should have been mine. “Alec? Are you listening?” Selena Lark’s voice pulled me back to the present. Staring at the paused video on the screen, my voice was hoarse: “So, Nathan Slate couldn’t get into trouble, but I could? My parents could?” “I didn’t mean that!” She quickly defended herself. “I was pregnant with Sandy, desperate, and Nathan threatened me. If I didn’t cooperate, he’d kill my brother! I was forced!” I scoffed. “Didn’t your brother break ties with you long ago, with my help? Didn’t your so-called leech family already get a million dollars to cut that connection?” I continued, “What, the moment Nathan Slate appeared, your relatives resurrected? And you, who always resented your family, suddenly found love for your brother again?” I laughed until tears streamed down my face. “Selena Lark, you’re truly disgusting.” “Alec, I know you’ve suffered.” Her voice was tearful. “I’ve been thinking of you all these years. How have you been since your release? Is your living situation okay? Do you have money? I can help you.” “No need.” I hung up directly and blocked her number. But she seemed unwilling to give up, switching to another number and calling again. Text messages arrived one after another. “Alec, I know you still care about me, otherwise you wouldn’t hate me so much.” “Sandy misses you terribly. She always asks where her daddy is. She’s always thought of you as her real father. I haven’t told Nathan.” “I can make it up to you for what happened back then, if only you’re willing to forgive me.” I looked at those texts, feeling nothing but profound irony. After blocking the seventh number, I thought Selena Lark would give up. Unexpectedly, she quieted down, but Nathan Slate began to flaunt their affection online. He posted a set of family photos. Selena nestled in his arms, Sandy seated between them, all three smiling happily. The caption: “Eight years of companionship, grateful for you. Selena, Sandy, having you is my greatest happiness.” Immediately afterward, he posted a video. He had previously taken Selena and Sandy on a vacation abroad. In the video, he personally placed a necklace around Selena’s neck, making a heartfelt confession: “Thanks to your trust and companionship back then, we’ve made it to today. For the rest of our lives, I’ll protect you both with my life.” The hashtag #NathanSelenaEightYearsOfDeepLove# quickly shot to the top of trending topics. Netizens offered their blessings, and in passing, castigated me again. [In comparison, Alec is even worse!] [Ms. Lark and Mr. Slate are a match made in heaven. Alec is just a clown!] [Poor Mr. Slate, so magnanimous after being framed by Alec. No wonder Ms. Lark chose him!]

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I was infamous throughout Riverton as a jealous and vicious woman, quick to lash out at my husband, Jackson Byers, if anything displeased me. Every woman who came near Jackson, even those who merely spoke a word to him, I personally dealt with. Everyone advised him to divorce me, yet he’d repeatedly endure bruises, defending me against criticism and disputes. Everyone assumed he was terrified by my ruthless methods. All the lawyers in Riverton banded together to sue for his divorce from me. But he withdrew the suit every single time: “I love Phoebe, and my life only has one option: being widowed. I kindly ask all other women to automatically keep their distance from me.” It wasn’t until the night he withdrew the suit for the hundredth time that another man, a stranger, pressed a gun to my forehead: “Jackson loves you so much; he would never cheat. My sister was innocent! All those girls were innocent! Why couldn’t you just leave them alone?” I didn’t even open my eyes, just curled my lips and turned over: “If he truly loved me, he wouldn’t be flirting with other women!” I added, “Tomorrow, I have six more ‘packages’ to handle. If you want to know the truth, you’ll have to find a way to follow me.” … I woke up to find a bodyguard in the house. Before I could speak, Jackson proactively introduced him: “Phoebe, this is the bodyguard I specifically hired for you, Michael King.” The man who had pointed a gun at my head last night bowed respectfully: “Madam, your safety will be my responsibility from now on.” I pushed Jackson away, scoffing, “This scrawny dog? Can he swing a club or wield a knife?” Seeing my dissatisfaction with Michael, Jackson immediately moved to fire him. Michael suddenly looked up, his eyes burning with anger at my mockery. Catching sight of his fist clenching in his pocket, I finally spoke: “So, do you want to protect me, the universally reviled vixen? Or do you want to seize the opportunity to kill me?” Without waiting for his answer, I lightly patted Jackson’s shoulder. “Don’t wait for me for dinner tonight, I have plans with a friend!” I gave Michael a meaningful look, then grabbed my bag and got into the car. Just as the car door was about to close, a pair of hands gripped the handle. The next second, Michael King dropped to his knees, pleading with me: “Madam, I cannot lose this job!” I finally looked at him squarely. As expected of a man who could break into my room in the middle of the night—flexible and adaptable, capable of great things. I averted my gaze, closing my eyes to rest. Jackson sternly ordered Michael: “Protect my wife. If she loses even a single hair, I’ll personally chop you into pieces!” I raised my hand, and Michael started the car. “Madam, where to first?” “Deep Glen Hotel.” Before opening the door, I calmly told Michael, “Inside is the first one I need to handle today. You can learn from it.” I pushed the door open, and the young model who had found Jackson’s car keys yesterday shrieked in terror. “Mrs. Byers… I’m sorry, I’ll never do it again…” The model was tied up, frantically shrinking into the corner of the wall in fright. I hadn’t even done anything, and she was already streaming tears. The next second, I pushed her down, straddling her, and unleashed a barrage of actions. “Mrs. Byers, I’m sorry, please let me go. I really didn’t know those were Mr. Byers’s keys when I picked them up…” After fumbling around her abdomen for a bit, I was quite disappointed. But I took the opportunity to force a handful of pills into her mouth, then pulled out my phone to snap pictures of her disheveled state. “Get out of Riverton. Don’t let me see you again.” My voice held no tremor. The young model, as if pardoned, clutched her throat and scrambled away, practically rolling. I unhurriedly cleaned my hands with disinfectant, then looked at Michael: “Did you learn anything? There are five more to go. Your turn or mine?” Michael gritted his teeth, demanding, “Why? She never intended to seduce Mr. Byers. She was innocent with him. Why are you so cruel to people?” “Cruel? This is just the beginning!” The next second, I posted the young model’s photos online. Moments later, the comment section was, as usual, inundated with insults. “So, you let me follow you, to personally watch you inflict abuse, because you’re certain I wouldn’t dare kill you?” A gun was pressed to my forehead again. I brushed the gun aside, smiling faintly. “Kill me, and you’ll never know the truth.” Michael put away his gun and accompanied me to deal with the second woman. This was a college student, Sarah Greene, who had accidentally rear-ended Jackson’s car. Sarah had just gotten her driver’s license, and on her first day with her new car, she hit Jackson’s Porsche. She cried, kowtowing to me: “Mrs. Byers, I really didn’t mean to rear-end Mr. Byers. I’ll pay whatever it costs. Please don’t hurt me, I don’t want to die…” I pulled out a self-defense baton, aiming for her bulging abdomen: “According to custom, as long as you see the error of your ways, I’ll know what to do.” Before the baton could fall, she wet herself in fear, frantically kowtowing to me: “Mrs. Byers, I don’t want to die. My mother raised me with such hardship; if I die, she won’t survive alone. Please let me go…” The stench from the mess beneath her made me immediately throw the baton to Michael: “You do it!” Michael clutched the self-defense baton, his eyes bloodshot. I ignored him, simply tossing him a box of pills with no packaging or instructions. “If you can’t bring yourself to hit her, then feed her these, and then you both go to the bathroom!” With that, I turned to my bag to retrieve my frantically vibrating phone. Ignoring the malicious insults, I routinely opened the camera. Unexpectedly, I accidentally touched a live stream that popped up on my phone. The familiar sight made me turn around in surprise. My voice trembling, I excitedly asked Michael, “Are you filming me? And live-streaming?” But he asked me, aghast, “You gave her drugs, and you want me to… to do that to her?” I lunged at Michael like a madwoman, patting him down. Seizing the opportunity, I whispered, “Quickly feed her the medicine, then take her to the restroom! Let’s be quick!” But the next second, Michael slammed the baton heavily onto my head. “You want me to take advantage and assault Sarah, then spread malicious rumors about her to control her? How can there be such a disgusting vixen like you?!” Warm blood instantly gushed out, and my vision turned red. After I fell to the ground, the live stream chat erupted in cheers: [Well done! Brother, you did what we’ve long wanted to do!] [That vixen deserves a lesson! She really thought she had supernatural powers, but she’s just flesh and blood!] [Brother, quickly rescue this student! She can’t end up tragically dead like that young model!] …That young model died? Was I too late? Lost in thought, Michael kicked me again, then left with Sarah. Sarah, however, dared not go with him, insisting on leaving alone. I desperately clutched Michael’s leg: “She can’t leave! Quickly give her the medicine! I’m doing this for her own good!” Meeting my pleading gaze, Michael hesitated. Thousands of viewers in the live stream furiously scrolled messages: [Brother, don’t be swayed by her! Giving someone drugs is called ‘doing good’?] [That vixen’s medicine is definitely not good news. Absolutely don’t give it to the girl! It could be deadly!] Seeing Sarah seizing the chance to run, I pulled out a dagger from my bag and forcefully threw it at her. Thankfully, it struck her right leg. I chased after her, intending to force the medicine down Sarah’s throat, but Michael blocked me at every turn. “What kind of medicine is this?” he demanded. “A laxative. If you want to know the truth, quickly give it to her! Any later and it might be too late…” Michael raised his hand and slapped my face. “I don’t believe it! There’s definitely something wrong with this medicine!” I was knocked to the ground by his slap. In desperation, I picked up the dagger and again stabbed Sarah, who was trying to escape. The entire internet was shocked by my ruthlessness and madness, with some netizens suggesting calling the police to arrest me. But more netizens rejected the idea. [Can’t call the police, otherwise Jackson, that love-struck fool, will surely protect her with his life!] Millions of netizens quickly signed an electronic petition, clamoring: [Phoebe Stone, go to hell!] [I bet some of the hundreds of women she ‘dealt with’ before died just like Anya Zhao!] [Since the law can’t punish her, then let justice punish her!] [Those who can go to the scene, quickly unite to eliminate this cancer! She must confess her crimes before Jackson finds out!] [Yes! The law doesn’t punish the masses! Let’s move!] I looked at these comments, brimming with anticipation. Michael also saw the public screen. He pulled out his gun and aimed it at me, waiting for more righteous people to judge me. Sarah gasped in pain, cursing me: “Mrs. Byers, you are so domineering and venomous, you’ll get your comeuppance sooner or later!” Hearing the screech of tires outside the warehouse, I smiled, spitting out a mouthful of blood, and whispered, “I’m afraid I’ll have to disappoint you all; Jackson won’t let anything happen to me!” The next second, Mrs. Byers’s mother and a crowd of people surged into the abandoned warehouse. She also brought a restraining order. It was a court order strictly prohibiting me from approaching Jackson, and strictly prohibiting me from leaving the house. “You wretch, let’s see how you bully my son this time!” But I merely smiled. I looked past her, coldly speaking: “Jackson Byers, is this what you so boastfully call your love for me?” Mrs. Byers’s mother, accompanied by a team of lawyers, surrounded the arriving Jackson, fearing I might lose control and hurt someone. Then, in an effort to curry favor, she handed the restraining order to Jackson: “Son, look, even the court can’t stand it anymore. You can finally get rid of this vixen!” But Jackson took the restraining order, glanced at it, and tore it to shreds: “Mother, if you force me to divorce Phoebe again, we’ll cut ties!” The surrounding lawyers were so enraged they wanted to open his head and look inside right there. “Mr. Byers, you have money, you have good looks. Why are you so fixated on this vixen?” “Even in a matriarchal society, no one is as arrogant as her!” “Besides, she committed murder an hour ago! She just stabbed this young girl. You, a great philanthropist, can you bear for that young model to die so mysteriously?” He pressed, “You need to think clearly. If you continue to shield her, to clean up her messes, then you are also a murderer, an accomplice!” Jackson, however, merely elegantly tossed the shredded pieces into the air and called his assistant: “Liam, Phoebe has been wronged again today. Go hurry customs to clear the shipment; I want that Bugatti in the garage tonight!” Mr. Davies, the lead lawyer, was so angry his chest heaved violently. He had been practicing for thirty years and had never seen anyone so pathetic and masochistic—every time they met, Jackson was bruised, and his first words were either to withdraw a lawsuit or to wholeheartedly clean up his abusive wife’s messes. At this moment, half of Jackson’s face was still a terrible purple, yet his lips curved upwards, his gaze at me utterly doting. Mr. Davies quickly pinched his philtrum, then pulled out a divorce agreement and handed it to Jackson: “Mr. Byers, life is short. Can’t you live for yourself? I know you love her, but she’s a murderer, she’s going to prison soon. Why hold onto this marriage? I’m begging you, divorce her, alright?” He pressed, “Or do you love her so much that you’ve lost all sense of right and wrong, insisting on spending the rest of your life with a murderer?” Jackson’s usual gentle smile froze instantly, his eyes losing some of their warmth. “I said, I will never divorce Phoebe in this lifetime. The only way we part is if one of us dies!” Everyone present was so frustrated they felt like smashing the walls. “What spell has Phoebe Stone cast on you that makes you want to give her your life?” “Last week she pushed a college student who brushed past you down the stairs. Yesterday she knocked a filing intern into the hospital. Today she brazenly killed someone, and your face—how many days a month is it normal? Can’t you be strong just once?” Mr. Davies’ roar made the windows tremble, but it only elicited Jackson’s cold reply. “Even if Phoebe beats me to death, I will gladly accept it!” He continued, “Besides, Phoebe is just a bit quick-tempered, not a vixen. I will compensate all those people for the mistakes she made when she lost control. They have no complaints, so why are you more anxious than the emperor?” Mr. Davies was beyond furious, pointing at me and roaring, “Jackson Byers! That young model was killed by her! Wake up, will you? Even if you love her madly, can you at least have some moral compass?!” Someone, unable to stand it anymore, tried to call the police to arrest me. But Jackson’s people stopped them. “If Phoebe is truly guilty, I will atone for her sins!” A crowd of people, unable to persuade Jackson, could only glare at me with resentment: “Phoebe Stone, you are narrow-minded and vicious. You’ll get your comeuppance sooner or later!” They continued, “If you have any conscience left, actively divorce and turn yourself in!” Jackson’s sword-like gaze swept over those people: “If you want to make trouble for Phoebe, you’ll have to step over my dead body!” With that, he stepped forward with an apologetic expression, forcefully picking me up. “Phoebe, I’m sorry. It’s all my fault for making you suffer…” He then instructed his assistant to hand Sarah a check for one million dollars. “This is a small apology on behalf of my wife. Do you choose to forgive her, or pursue further action?” Everyone shouted: “Young lady, don’t be swayed by money! Let’s all work together to remove this blight from society!” Sarah hesitated, then ultimately accepted the check. “Actually, Mrs. Byers just loves Mr. Byers too much. I was the one who hit Mr. Byers’s car; I was at fault first…” Everyone was stunned, and even their perception of Jackson changed.

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My roommate was a prankster. One summer, while rock climbing together, he secretly untied my safety rope to amuse my girlfriend. My girlfriend laughed heartily at the sight of me dangling in mid-air. Immediately after, I fell from a great height and fractured my spine. Seeing me speechless from the pain, my roommate sneered, “It was just a joke. I didn’t realize his physical fitness was so poor. What an embarrassment to us sports students.” After my injury, my lower body was paralyzed, my future was ruined, and I suffered from depression. I wanted to pursue criminal charges against my roommate, but my girlfriend stopped me, “You’re already paralyzed. Do you really want Noah to not graduate?” The day they publicly announced their relationship, I maneuvered my wheelchair and, in despair, jumped from the rooftop. When I reopened my eyes, I was back on the day of the rock climbing incident. 1 “Jacob, you’re so grounded, you don’t suit such stylish climbing shoes. Can I try them on?” My roommate, Noah,’s voice echoed in my ears, startling me into a cold sweat. I quickly checked my hands and feet—they moved freely; I wasn’t paralyzed. Had I been reborn? In my previous life, after suffering academic setbacks and romantic betrayal, I chose an extreme way to end my life. But unexpectedly, I was reborn, back to the day of the rock climbing trip that summer. Seeing me in a daze, Noah sounded a little impatient. “Jacob, what are you staring at? You’re not pretending to be deaf because you don’t want to lend me these shoes, are you?” My thoughts were pulled back. I nodded. “Of course.” I added, “Try them on, go ahead.” I had asked a friend abroad to buy these climbing shoes; they weren’t cheap, and I hadn’t even worn them once myself. Noah’s spirits immediately lifted. He grabbed the shoes and started putting them on. “These shoes aren’t cheap, right? Too bad you’re so unfashionable. Even the most expensive shoes look like bargain bin items on you.” He continued, “My style suits their price better.” Noah strutted in front of the mirror, posing with the shoes, making my stomach churn. If not for legal restraints, I would have long ago kicked him off the balcony. But I knew I couldn’t. And besides, if Clara found out, she wouldn’t let me get away with it. In my previous life, it was she who prevented me from pursuing criminal charges against Noah. She said Noah was her best friend and just liked to joke around. But if Noah had been the one injured, I suspect Clara would have still sided with Noah without hesitation. Regardless, I had to find a way to prevent myself from being harmed again in this life. Clara and I were top students at the Metropolis Sports Academy. After a training session, the coach approached me, wanting me to participate in the school’s special selection competition for the national team. Joining the national team was every sports student’s dream. But there was only one spot, and my performance was more consistent. So, I followed his advice and signed up for the competition. But unexpectedly, Clara’s mother unilaterally canceled my registration. “Jacob, if you’re serious about Clara, you need to plan for the future. What about the national team? Even if you join, what then? Can it buy you a car or a house? Don’t get me wrong, but how many young couples have fallen apart because of reality?” She pressed, “Besides, national team training is too demanding. If you neglect Clara, aren’t you afraid she’ll be snatched away by someone else? Love without money is just a pile of sand. I hope you can be down-to-earth and not waste your time on these things.” After hearing these words, I was a little confused. “But, Mrs. Thorne, if I join the national team, I’ll have the chance to bring glory to our country in the future. That’s also my dream.” I questioned, “Do I have to give up my dream to be with Clara? Besides, I don’t think a marriage where one party is sacrificed for the other can last.” But before I could finish, she interrupted me. “Oh, why won’t you listen, child? I’m doing this for your own good.” She continued, “Look at Noah, he’s about your age and already preparing to take over his family’s company. I don’t expect you to achieve anything grand, but at least don’t let my Clara feel embarrassed in public, alright?” In my previous life, even though I was unwilling, for Clara’s sake, I still gave up this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. And the one who ultimately joined the national team was Clara. Three years later, with her beautiful looks, she became a well-known female athlete in the sports world. It wasn’t until she won an international competition and excitedly embraced Noah that I discovered I had only paved the way for someone else. If not for that accident, if I hadn’t given up the national team selection, would everything have been different? Taking back what they stole seemed more impactful than mere revenge. This time, I wanted to see what kind of trouble these two would stir up without me, the naive fool. 2 While I was lost in thought, Noah had already skillfully put on my climbing shoes. He also casually slipped into my new windbreaker. Anyone who didn’t know would think these were his. Just then, Noah took a call, then turned to urge me, “Jacob, are you ready? Clara’s rushing us to come down.” I looked at his outfit, a bit displeased. “You’ve taken my new climbing shoes and windbreaker. What am I supposed to wear?” A hint of sarcasm flashed in Noah’s eyes. “Just wear the old ones you have on.” He added, “Besides, new shoes have a break-in period. I’m doing this for your own good. I’ll give them back to you once I’ve broken them in.” With that, Noah pulled me out. Downstairs, Clara embraced me, her face a shy flush. She mysteriously pulled open a corner of her backpack, whispering, “Jacob, today’s our third anniversary, and I’ve prepared a surprise for you~” I looked down, instantly blushing to my ears, as it was a black lace, sexy nightgown. In the years Clara and I had been together, she had always been rather aloof. The me of the previous life, immersed in the surprise of Clara’s change in attitude towards me, didn’t even notice that Noah, standing nearby, had already turned grim. It turned out that in the previous life, the reason he played that prank during the climb was entirely out of jealousy. He called it a joke, but in reality, it was deliberate. Clara saw me stunned and silent, and chided, “Jacob, why are you spacing out?” On this day in my previous life, I was truly happy, my mind filled with anticipation for the climbing to end quickly. Later, when we were almost at the top of the rock, Clara, probably tired, frowned and seemed unhappy. Noah, trying to cheer Clara up, actually secretly untied my safety rope. My foot slipped, and I fell. Because only a thin rope at the top was protecting me, I swung a few times in the air like a kite. I instantly broke into a cold sweat, but unexpectedly, Clara actually laughed heartily at my appearance. Immediately after, I heard the sound of the rope breaking, and I plummeted directly from mid-air. My waist, unfortunately, hit a protruding rock on the ground. The intense pain almost made me faint. Several classmates who were climbing with us rushed over to check my injuries. But Noah stood nearby, arms crossed, with a sneer. “I was just joking. I didn’t expect Jacob, a sports student, to have such poor physical fitness.” He added, “However, seeing Clara smile made it worth it.” He continued, “It’s common to get bumps and scrapes during school training. He should be fine, right?” The student organizing the climb’s face darkened, and he quickly called for an ambulance, taking me to the hospital. Seeing the doctor’s tightly furrowed brows, my heart instantly sank. The doctor said my spine was fractured, and it might be difficult for me to stand again in the future. Noah, upon learning this, was incredibly shocked. He feigned an apology, threatening to jump from the fifth floor to atone for my injury. Clara quickly pulled him back, gently comforting him and saying it was just an accident. But had she forgotten that I was the one who needed comfort after being injured? After the surgery, Clara’s mother also rushed over. Upon hearing about my injuries, her eyes immediately reddened. “Jacob, you’ve truly suffered.” She chastised, “Noah is truly something; he’s always loved pranks, with no sense of proportion. Quickly apologize to Jacob.” I endured the pain, saying coldly, “No need for an apology. Let the police handle this. Whether intentional or accidental, I hope the police can give me justice.” Unexpectedly, as soon as I finished speaking, Clara was displeased. “Jacob, Noah and I grew up together. I know his joke went a bit too far this time, but it’s not enough to send him to the police station, is it? When we get married later, we’ll be seeing each other often; how awkward would that be?” She continued, “I know you’re sad, but the doctor said that with diligent rehabilitation, there’s still a chance of recovery. You can take this opportunity to rest well. Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of you.” At this moment, Clara’s mother also interjected, “Noah’s uncle is a major client of our company. If you fall out with the King family over such a small matter, where would our family’s reputation stand afterward?” She pressed, “If you call the police, you’re slapping my face. I absolutely won’t allow such a thing to happen!” I tried to say something more, but Clara cut me off again. “Jacob, your spine is already broken anyway. Why bother ruining my family’s cooperation with the King family over this?” She continued, “Noah truly didn’t mean it. He’s like my younger brother, just a bit mischievous. I hope you can treat him like a younger brother too.” She added, “Besides, we’re all classmates, and Noah is younger than you. Can’t you forgive him this once?” After Clara spoke, I was so angry I couldn’t speak. I was only a month older than Noah; why should I bear the consequences of his prank? Yet in my previous life, I was so utterly foolish that I followed Clara’s advice. Later, when Clara accompanied me for rehabilitation, she became increasingly perfunctory. I also developed depression from sitting in a wheelchair for so long. It wasn’t until Valentine’s Day that Clara didn’t come home all night. In the early morning, I scrolled through Noah’s social media post. It was a photo of him and Clara kissing. Clara’s ring finger still bore a sparkling diamond ring. The caption: Finally upgraded from boyfriend to husband. Please guide me for the rest of our lives. After seeing it, I maneuvered my wheelchair and leaped from the rooftop. This life, no matter what, I would not let such a tragedy befall me again.

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