Author: Momo Chan

We were out watching the New Year’s Eve fireworks when my son ran straight up to a police officer and demanded a hug. The problem was, the officer he was hugging… was my ex-boyfriend. My instinct was to turn and run, but then I heard this little kid drop an absolute bomb: “Mommy! I found Daddy!” 01 On New Year’s Eve, I took Leo out to see the fireworks. I took my eyes off him for one second, and the little guy vanished. Cold sweat instantly broke out on my forehead. I frantically searched through the massive, shoulder-to-shoulder crowd. I screamed, “Leo! Leo!” Just as I was panicking enough to start looking for a cop, my eyes caught something. I saw Leo’s tiny little body desperately tugging at the utility belt of a tall police officer. He kept chanting, “Mister! Mister, hold me!” The man had a sharp, cold jawline and devastatingly handsome features. Standing tall in his uniform, he was incredibly striking, commanding attention even in the dense crowd. He looked down at the little dumpling tugging at him, and the corner of his mouth unconsciously curled into a gentle smile. He crouched down, smoothly hoisted Leo up, and set him securely on his broad shoulders, holding him tight. He even asked softly, “Can you see better now, buddy?” This picture-perfect scene of a handsome officer protecting a child immediately drew the crowd’s attention. Several people pulled out their phones, snapping pictures of the heartwarming moment. Amidst the noise and cheering, I was the only one standing completely frozen in place. Someone next to me nudged my arm. “Is that your kid? Why aren’t you going over to get him?” I opened my mouth, but I had absolutely no idea what to say. The kid was definitely mine. But the man used to be mine, too. Wait, scratch that. He was mine. 02 I hesitated, unsure of how to approach them. After all, I was the one who dumped Arthur. After three years of dating, I didn’t even give him a reason. I just sent a single text: [I don’t think this is working out anymore. Let’s break up.] Arthur called me relentlessly and sent countless messages. I blocked every single one. I ruthlessly left the city, thinking I would never cross paths with him again for the rest of my life. I never expected that during a brief trip back to my hometown to visit some graves with Leo… I’d run straight into him. Looking at his increasingly mature, handsome face, the years had only added a sharper, harder edge to his features. I suddenly remembered the final message he ever sent me. Having given up on desperately begging, his tone was freezing cold: [Mia, for the rest of your life, you better pray you never cross my path!] [Because if you do, I will destroy you!] His personality had always been tough and uncompromising. He was a regional taekwondo and kickboxing champion—a fact he had… well… demonstrated during our relationship. I fully believed he could destroy me. So for all the years since I left him, I didn’t even dare to double-park my car. I lived in constant fear that the cop writing the ticket would turn out to be him. I hesitated for a long time. I watched my kid excitedly pulling Arthur’s hair and rubbing his dirty face all over Arthur’s uniform, leaving a massive dark smudge on the pristine navy-blue collar. I decided it was safer to stay hidden. I figured I’d just keep a close eye on Leo. Once the fireworks were over and he got down, I’d secretly follow him, grab him, and run home. But I never anticipated that right as the countdown to the fireworks began, the little guy would suddenly start twisting his head around, scanning the crowd. The second he spotted me, his huge eyes lit up like floodlights. I panicked. I was just about to mouth the words: “Don’t yell! Mommy will come get you in a minute!” But he excitedly smacked Arthur’s handsome face and screamed at the top of his lungs: “Daddy! My Mommy is right there!” 03 Me: … Arthur: ? Amidst the absolute chaos, only Leo looked incredibly proud, raising his chin triumphantly. He shot me a sly, expectant look, clearly saying: “Mommy, I did a great job, right?” 04 Okay, fine. It was my fault. I shouldn’t have spent late nights crying over old photos of Arthur and me. And I definitely shouldn’t have answered Leo when he pointed at the screen and asked, “Mommy, who is that?” I boldly declared: “That’s the person Mommy loves.” But my absolute, catastrophic mistake was… When he asked, “What does ‘the person you love’ mean?” I gave him a highly inappropriate explanation: “It means the person Mommy loves exactly like how a mommy is supposed to love a daddy.” So, his toddler brain connected the dots: Daddy, Mommy, and Love. He also understood that Mommies and Daddies were supposed to be together. Therefore, he firmly concluded that Arthur was his biological father. Under Arthur’s scrutinizing, deeply shocked gaze, the little guy extended his short, chubby arms toward me, waving frantically. “Mommy! Come here! We’re supposed to be together!” Me: … I genuinely did not want to move. Because the look in Arthur’s eyes felt like he was about to eat me alive. Not to mention the crowd around him, who were practically vibrating with excitement. “Oh, they’re a family! No wonder they looked so perfect together.” “Exactly! The dad is gorgeous, the mom is beautiful, and they have such an adorable kid. What a happy family.” “Don’t be shy, young lady, go to your husband!” My face was burning red. I shook my head frantically. But Leo burst into loud, heartbroken wails, hiccuping pitifully. “Mommy… Mommy, come here…” Oh god. Son, doing this makes me look like I’m committing child abuse. Finally, Arthur couldn’t stand it anymore. With his long legs, he slowly strode through the parting crowd until he was standing right in front of me. His signature scent—a mix of crisp mint and the lavender detergent he always loved—wafted over me, absolutely undeniable. A flood of familiar memories rushed to the surface of my mind. “Arthur, you sweat so much every day! Use this detergent, it smells so, so good!” The man gave a faint smirk, reached out his long arm, and pulled me flush against his chest. “Not as good as you.” My face flushed scarlet, and I struggled playfully, tugging on his ear. “Ahhh! Officer Arthur, how are you so smooth?! Do all the girls chasing you know this?” He laughed, pressing an incredibly tender kiss to my lips. “I’m only like this with you, Ms. Mia.” The memories slowly settled. I looked up at the man standing before me, who was significantly taller than I was. As the fireworks bloomed overhead, illuminating the moment our eyes met, I heard his deep, low voice. “Long time no see, Mia.” I forced a strained smile. I was just about to offer a polite greeting when I heard a furious, gritted question: “Is this kid mine?” 05 Obviously not. The kid was over five years old. We broke up exactly three years ago. The math simply didn’t add up. Arthur clearly realized this too, and his handsome face turned even darker. He gripped Leo’s chubby little legs tightly to make sure he didn’t fall off his shoulders. But the veins bulging on the back of his hands made it glaringly obvious just how furious he was. My heart was hammering in my chest. I watched the rest of the fireworks display in sheer terror. Just as I was about to grab the kid and make a run for it, a group of his fellow officers swarmed us. “Bro, is this the sister-in-law you never stop talking about?” “Yeah, yeah! It’s her! She’s the lock screen on your phone!” Me: ? Arthur, who had been pursued by countless girls his entire life and was basically a legendary catch, actually kept a photo of me this whole time? And made it his lock screen? My heart gave a sudden, violent lurch. I couldn’t help but look at the man beside me. His jaw was clenched tight. He barked coldly: “Shut up!” “Fall in line! Get back to your posts!” The officers quickly scattered. But Leo still refused to let go of Arthur. His massive eyes filled with tears, and he asked pitifully, “Daddy, where are you going?” I panicked and tried to forcefully pull Leo away. But the kid was clinging to Arthur like a koala. Arthur furrowed his brow, a flicker of genuine tenderness crossing his eyes. Ultimately, he crouched down, opening his mouth as if to say something. Leo’s lower lip quivered. Looking devastatingly sad, tears immediately spilled down his cheeks. “Daddy, Leo wants to go home with you!” “Are you throwing Leo away again?!” The heartache in Arthur’s eyes instantly spilled over. Before I could even try to stop him, he scooped Leo up into his arms. His voice was deep and heavy. “Let’s go. Daddy’s taking you home.” Me: ? Huh? 06 The little guy seemed to genuinely adore Arthur. Even after we got into the police cruiser, his tiny hand kept a death grip on the corner of Arthur’s uniform shirt. Arthur had no choice but to speak softly, coaxing him to sleep. It was actually bizarre. Ever since he turned two, the kid had been a nightmare at bedtime. Normally, he wouldn’t close his eyes before 2 AM. But Arthur only had to murmur a few soothing words, and Leo immediately closed his eyes, falling into a deep, peaceful sleep nestled against his chest. Me: ? Son, acting like this makes your mother look completely useless. Arthur handed the sleeping child back to me and climbed into the driver’s seat. “Where to?” “Xing’an Apartments.” Arthur started the engine and let out a cold, sharp scoff. I suddenly realized why. When we broke up, Arthur said he was going to come find me. I told him I had moved. I told him he would never find me! The reality was… not only did I not move, I had been living right next door to his precinct this entire time. This is so awkward. I offered a sheepish smile, desperately trying to think of something to say to praise this dedicated public servant for driving me home. Suddenly, he asked coldly: “Where’s the kid’s father?” “Did you get a divorce?” Me: ? Bro, we broke up three years ago. How is it biologically possible for me to have a five-year-old son? In the dark cabin of the cruiser, a flash of deep sorrow crossed Arthur’s sharp profile. He said chillingly, “You met him while I was studying for the civil service exam, didn’t you.” It wasn’t a question. It was a statement. During our second year of dating, Arthur was completely consumed by studying for his police exams, while I was preparing to apply for grad school overseas. We were long-distance and rarely saw each other. So… Arthur actually thought I had cheated on him during that time? I felt a flare of irritation and leaned back against the seat. “Arthur, I can’t believe you think I cheated on you! “I am so incredibly hurt!” My tone was bright and teasing, exactly how I used to talk to him when we were deeply in love. Arthur stiffened violently and turned to look at me. A fleeting look of desperate hope flashed in his eyes: “So… this child… “Whose is he?” 07 Me: “Well, he’s definitely not yours.” Arthur: … 08 I really wasn’t lying. The kid was actually my brother’s. But my brother wasn’t my biological brother. I was an orphan, my parents having passed away when I was very young. When I was 14, my brother, who had come to my rural village to invest in a tourism project, adopted me. He took me out of the village, paid for my education, and was even preparing to send me overseas for my master’s degree. Everything was perfect. He married his high school sweetheart, and my sister-in-law treated me wonderfully. My original plan was to bring Arthur home to meet them before I left for grad school. But then— My brother and sister-in-law were in a horrific car accident while on vacation. They both died, leaving behind their two-year-old son, Leo. I looked down at the child sleeping soundly, completely innocent and carefree in my arms. I remembered my sister-in-law’s dying wish. “Mia… don’t let him… become an orphan. From now on… you are his mother.” The memory rushed back, suffocating me. I looked at the man sitting next to me—handsome, radiating integrity, with a brilliant future ahead of him. I swallowed all the words I wanted to say. Arthur seemed to sense my withdrawal and got angry. He turned his face away, refusing to look at me. “Don’t flatter yourself. I don’t care about your business. “I was just asking.” 09 I nodded, saying quietly: “Yeah. I know.” Arthur had been a “school heartthrob” his entire life, and now he had such a respected, honorable career. There were probably countless girls lining up for him. How could he possibly still care about me? My eyes caught the name lighting up his phone screen: [Lindsay.] A girl’s name. Wait, why does that name sound like his younger sister? As I was silently questioning it, Arthur hung up the call and flipped his phone face down. He shot me a glance and said flatly, “With you here, it’s inconvenient.” True. When your ex-girlfriend and your current girlfriend collide, it’s obviously going to be inconvenient. Just then, the car pulled up to Xing’an Apartments. I hurriedly grabbed Leo and stepped out, constantly repeating my thanks: “Thank you… Thank you…” But with a heavy child in my arms, I couldn’t get the car door open. Arthur got out, walked around, and pulled my door open. I lost my balance and stumbled forward, falling straight into his chest. To make sure Leo didn’t get squished, I instinctively twisted my body, but my head crashed uncontrollably against Arthur. My soft lips grazed the exposed skin of his neck. A reflexively soft murmur escaped my lips: “Thank you… Officer Arthur.” This posture, this exact tone of voice. It was exactly how I used to beg for mercy when Arthur had me pinned to the bed, playfully teasing and tormenting me. Arthur’s entire body went rigidly stiff. His ears instantly flushed crimson. The red rapidly spread all the way to his cheeks. He steadied me and let out two incredibly unnatural, forced coughs. “You. Stand up straight. “Stop trying to seduce me. I have no interest in you.” Me: … He was exactly the same as before. Serious and stoic, but with a hidden layer of arrogant, introverted vanity. “I know.” After solemnly thanking Arthur again, I carried Leo toward my building. But I never expected to run into a group of unwelcome guests right at the entrance. 10 “Give us the kid back!” It was my sister-in-law’s adoptive parents. Ever since my brother and sister-in-law died, they had come knocking multiple times. But it wasn’t because they wanted the child back. It was because they wanted to monopolize the massive life insurance payout my brother and sister-in-law left behind. I had witnessed with my own eyes how they abused Leo in the past, which is exactly why my sister-in-law desperately pleaded with me on her deathbed: “Please, never let Leo fall into their hands.” Right now, I held the child tightly against me, covering his ears, and snapped: “He is my child! Who are you people? Get lost!” Mr. and Mrs. Zhang refused to leave. “Bullshit! Leo is my daughter’s kid! You’re an unmarried girl with no kids of your own, what gives you the right to raise him? “Give him back!” They lunged forward to rip the child from my arms. Leo was terrified and burst into tears. He clung desperately to my neck, screaming for his mother. I shielded him with one arm and used the other to shove the two elderly people away. They started screaming at the top of their lungs: “Everyone, come look! This girl is kidnapping a child! “She doesn’t even have a husband, but claims the kid is hers! Come look at this!” Several residents came out of their apartments to watch the commotion, pointing and whispering at me. “I know her. Isn’t that the Chen family’s daughter? She’s not even married, where did she get a fatherless kid?” “Maybe the kid belongs to her dead brother, and she’s trying to keep him to steal the inheritance…” Dead. Brother. Seeing Leo’s massive eyes darting around nervously. I clamped my hands tighter over his ears. “Stop talking nonsense! Get the hell out of here!” Leo realized the danger I was in. Ignoring what the people were saying, he screamed: “Leo has a Daddy! “Leo’s Daddy is right there!” Leo pointed his chubby little finger straight ahead. In the dim light of the corridor, Arthur suddenly appeared. The sickly yellow hallway light cast deep, unreadable shadows across his sharp, severe features. I couldn’t read his expression. I could only feel the violent trembling of Leo’s tiny hands clutching mine. Silently, a wave of intense anxiety washed over me. After all, we had been broken up for years. He had always been raised with strict discipline. He absolutely despised getting involved in messy, chaotic drama like this. Humoring Leo’s little game earlier tonight was already completely out of character. There was no way he would publicly acknowledge being this “son’s” father. … My mind was a chaotic mess. Just as the old couple lunged forward to grab the kid again— A deep, resonant voice echoed from the doorway, carrying an involuntary, undeniable warmth. “Son, come here. “Daddy’s got you.”

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My dad had a respectable job and always acted like a man who took responsibility. My mom didn’t have a high degree, and she was timid and afraid of conflict. So, when they divorced, I decisively chose to live with my dad. Not long after, my dad remarried. My new stepmom sold me to human traffickers. My mom crossed mountains and rivers, risking everything to find me and bring me back from the middle of nowhere. The moment we reunited, my mom held me and sobbed: “Peach, I’m so sorry! Mom failed to protect you!” My dad, in order to pay for his stepson’s expensive private school tuition, forced me to drop out of high school. My mom couldn’t win back custody, so she could only secretly slip me the tuition money she had painstakingly saved up. Eventually, I was pushed off a balcony by my stepbrother and died. My dad testified in court: “The girl committed suicide.” After I died, I floated in the air as a spirit. I saw my mom holding a sign with the word “Injustice” written in blood-red letters, kneeling outside the courthouse for days, refusing to leave… When I opened my eyes again, I was reborn. I was back on the exact day the judge asked me to choose between them. 1 In the courtroom, the judge called me in. “According to the law, since the child is over eight years old, we must respect her true wishes.” “You are already fourteen. You understand the circumstances of both your parents. Who do you choose to live with?” I had just been reborn, and my head was still a bit foggy. Thinking I was hesitating, my mom rushed to say, “Peach, come live with Mom. Mom can take good care of you.” My dad shot her a look of absolute disdain and said, “What kind of care can you provide? Are you going to feed my daughter scraps for the rest of her life?” “I already found a job! I can support Peach!” “With your education, how much can you possibly make? For the past dozen years, every single penny you spent was mine!” Listening to their argument, my mind gradually cleared. In my past life, I was a fourteen-year-old girl going through a rebellious phase. My mom was strict. She wouldn’t let me get extra ear piercings, dye my hair blonde, and definitely wouldn’t let me skip class to date boys. I found her incredibly annoying. My dad, on the other hand, rarely came home and basically never disciplined me. Whenever he did show up, he would just hand me a wad of cash and tell me to take my friends out for KFC buckets. So, when they were fighting for custody, I chose my dad without a second thought. Hearing my decision, my mom started crying uncontrollably. Her tears soaked her clothes. Her hair, her lips, her eyes… everything was covered in tears. She kept calling my name as she watched my dad smugly lead me away. Now, this scene was playing out again. Both my parents were staring at me with desperate, expectant eyes, waiting for my decision. “I choose Mom.” A look of pure, unadulterated shock and joy flashed across my mom’s eyes. My dad looked at me in utter disbelief. “But I have one condition! “I want to change my last name! I’m taking my mom’s last name!” 2 Outside the courthouse, my dad grabbed my arm. “Peach! What is wrong with you? My financial situation is infinitely better than your mother’s. You’ve always been a kid who knows how to weigh the pros and cons!” “Exactly. Because I know how to weigh the pros and cons, I would never choose you!” In my past life, my spirit hovered in mid-air, watching my own blood-soaked body being loaded into a body bag. My dad put on a pathetic show, kneeling on the ground and crying, telling the police that I committed suicide because the pressure of the SATs was too much for me. Total bullshit! I scored a 1550 on the SATs. What pressure did I have? It was his cheap stepson, who couldn’t even get into a community college, who pushed me off the balcony out of pure jealousy. If his stepson was the murderer, my dad was a complete and utter accomplice. Under the scorching sun, my mom held that “Injustice” sign, kneeling in front of the courthouse, ignoring the pointing and whispering of the crowds. Her knees were worn raw and bleeding, but she refused to leave, demanding justice for my death. If I chose him again in this life, I would literally be asking for a death sentence. “Peach, what do you mean by that?” “What do I mean? Do you really not understand?” I stared at him provocatively, making the hair on his arms stand up. My mom was also confused by my behavior. “William Vance. Let me jog your memory. Does the name Chloe Summers ring a bell?” My dad’s previously firm gaze instantly became evasive. “Who… who is that?” I sneered internally. Why is he pretending? 3 Chloe Summers was his college goddess. My dad chased her for four years and worshipped her for four years. After graduation, the Summers family refused to let them marry, forcing Chloe to marry into a wealthy, elite family instead. So, my dad, introduced by relatives, ended up marrying my mom. Years later, Chloe and her son were kicked out by that wealthy family with absolutely nothing. No one knew why. My dad, the ultimate simp, decisively stepped up to be the fallback guy. He subjected my mom to three years of severe emotional abuse and the silent treatment, forcing her to agree to a divorce so he could rush to marry Chloe. My mom might not have known the name Chloe Summers, but my dad certainly knew it better than anyone. “Peach, I know who she is. She’s your dad’s college classmate. I met her once when I went to pick your dad up from a college reunion. Let’s not bring up irrelevant people. Let’s just go home!” My mom tried to pull me away, but I wasn’t about to let my dad off the hook that easily. After today, I didn’t know if I’d ever see him again. If I didn’t make him squirm a little, it would be an insult to my tragic death in my past life. “Mom! Are you blind? Chloe Summers is his first love and his mistress!” My mom froze, but she didn’t look surprised. “You knew?” I always thought my mom was uneducated, slow-witted, and completely oblivious to my dad’s affairs. “Then why did you endure it for three years?” Three years of the silent treatment! My dad came home less than twenty times a year. When he did, he would just pack a few clothes, shove two thousand dollars into my hand, and rush back out the door. “Peach, Mom didn’t want you to be sad, so I kept it a secret. I didn’t want you to know your father was that kind of person. I didn’t want you to grow up with an inferiority complex.” “So, you suffered for three years… for me? “Just to maintain the illusion of a happy family, you lied to yourself like that?” My mom looked a little guilty under my stare, her hands clasped together, nervously rubbing her fingers. 4 Honestly, what right did I have to judge my mom?! In my past life, I was such a rebellious brat. Whenever my mom sat up late under the desk lamp, looking heartbroken, I called her dramatic and said she was just bored because she didn’t have a job. When my dad hung up on her countless times, I would make snide comments, saying she was a failure as a woman because she couldn’t even keep her own man. Whenever my mom left the house, it was never for more than an hour—just quick trips to the supermarket or the grocery store downstairs. But my dad? When he left, it was for a week minimum. He went to Dubai for business trips, he attended conferences at the World Trade Center… he was so important! I expressed more than once that Dad was way more important than Mom. So, my mom enduring three years without asking for a divorce… was truly entirely because of me! Thinking about this, I wanted to slap myself across the face. I looked at my dad, unable to suppress a cold laugh. “William Vance, do you see now?! Mom and I both knew about you screwing around! “Think about how arrogant and smug you were acting in that courtroom just now. Isn’t it hilarious? You looked like an absolute clown!” My dad was already feeling guilty. Hearing me lay it all out stripped him of his usual intimidating aura. He stood frozen in place, looking like a deflated balloon. 5 I linked arms with my mom, turned around, and hailed a cab to go home. “Peach, I’m so sorry. Because of me, you won’t be able to live in the big house anymore.” My mom looked at me guiltily, tears forming in the corners of her eyes. “Your dad bought that house before we got married. The law protects pre-marital assets now. I couldn’t get a single piece of it.” I comforted her, telling her it was fine. We could rent an apartment. Even though she didn’t have a college degree, she was incredibly skilled at making handicrafts. I could help her start a social media channel. We definitely wouldn’t starve. But I still felt a knot of anger in my chest. My dad cheated during the marriage; he was clearly at fault! But in the end, he didn’t lose a single thing. He kept the house and the cars. Mom and I walked away with absolutely nothing but child support. And that child support would end the second I turned eighteen. The more I thought about it, the angrier I got. Sensing my frustration, my mom said, “Proving infidelity is incredibly difficult, especially since your dad is resourceful and hid his mistress very well. Why did he give me the silent treatment instead of just asking for a divorce? He wanted to drag it out until I was completely emotionally drained, so he could eventually file for divorce citing ‘long-term separation’.” “I know. But Mom, don’t worry. I am confident that even though we didn’t get those assets, I will never, ever let him and Chloe’s family enjoy them in peace.” My mom smiled and said, “Alright! I have two working hands. I won’t let you suffer.” “Yeah! The best days for us girls are still ahead!” My mom happily started packing our bags. There was a sense of profound relief and joy radiating from her. But not me. In a corner she couldn’t see, I glared at my parents’ wedding photo on the wall, my face contorted with dark, vicious hatred. My mom didn’t know what I went through in my past life, and I didn’t want to tell her. In this life, she had let it go. But I would never easily let William Vance and his pathetic new family off the hook. 6 A few days later, I gathered all the necessary documents and went to the police station to legally change my last name. My mom said I didn’t actually need to go this far. Even though they were divorced, the blood relation between me and my dad couldn’t be severed. But I was adamant about changing it. His last name disgusted me. Just as I finished filling out the application form, I saw two familiar faces walk in. “What a small world. Is this the only police station in the entire city?” The voice was sickeningly sweet and coquettish. It was Chloe Summers. She walked in arm-in-arm with my dad. When she saw me, she dramatically rolled her eyes. My dad asked, “Peach, what are you guys doing here?” I waved the name-change application form in my hand and said, “Changing my last name, obviously. I explicitly stated this in court.” Hearing this, my dad’s face immediately darkened. “Do you have to take things to such extremes? I let your mother down, yes, but how did I ever let you down? Why do you insist on changing your last name?” “Why? Because it feels dirty!” I glanced at the hand Chloe had wrapped around my dad’s arm. A massive diamond ring was already sparkling on her finger. I remembered when my mom first married my dad, he was just a broke kid. Forget a diamond ring; their entire wedding was incredibly bare-bones. My dad promised that once he made it big, he would definitely buy her a proper wedding ring. Yet here I was, fourteen years old, and I had never seen this legendary “Emperor’s Diamond Ring.” One time, my mom finally brought it up, but my dad immediately shut her down with a few harsh words. “You don’t even work! Do you have any idea how much a diamond ring costs? Does my money grow on trees? “Besides, you’re a housewife doing chores all day. Wearing a ring would be inconvenient anyway!” My mom didn’t argue, and she never brought up the wedding ring ever again. 7 “The ink on the divorce decree isn’t even dry yet, and you’ve already got the wedding ring on. Dad, exactly how desperate are you? Can’t go a single day without a woman in your bed?” My dad looked incredibly uncomfortable, but Chloe snapped back first: “You’re only fourteen! Where did you learn such filthy language?! You act like a little street thug!” “Shut your mouth!” My mom stepped forward, blocking me. “A homewrecking mistress has no right to lecture my daughter!” My mom intentionally said the word “mistress” very loudly, drawing the attention of quite a few people in the busy station lobby. I saw my dad tug on Chloe’s hand. He was somewhat of a public figure in this city, and he clearly didn’t want to make a scene. Unfortunately for him, I absolutely did. I was just a fourteen-year-old girl right now. I had nothing to be afraid of. I immediately activated my Oscar-worthy acting skills and started bawling in the middle of the lobby. “Dad! Your mistress is yelling at me! Did you give her permission to do that?! “I thought my dad, William Vance, was a real man who stood tall and protected his family! But you’re just standing here letting your mistress bully your wife and daughter in a police station!” I screamed my dad’s full name as loudly as I could, and surprisingly, a man in the lobby actually recognized him. “Oh hey, isn’t this CEO Vance?” Seeing this, my dad had to force a calm expression and greet the man. The man looked at my mom standing next to me, then looked at Chloe standing next to my dad. His expression was incredibly complicated, but he still walked toward my mom. “Mrs. Vance, are you here running errands with the kid?” My mom engaged in polite, elegant small talk with the man. Her demeanor was graceful and poised—she didn’t look at all like the stereotype of a housewife who only knew how to do chores. My dad also joined the conversation, discussing some business matters with the man, completely leaving Chloe hanging on the side. I shot a sideways glance at Chloe. Her face was cycling between green and white. She looked incredibly uncomfortable. 8 In my past life, I lived with my dad and had to live under the same roof as Chloe. She constantly criticized me. She complained that I only picked the meat out of the dishes at dinner, she complained that I used too much toilet paper, she complained that I didn’t tutor her son with his homework. She said, “Peach Vance, can’t you see? In this house, you are the outsider.” Now, she was the one who was the unwanted outsider. “William, they called our number.” Chloe tugged on my dad’s sleeve, and the two of them walked to the counter under the contemptuous stares of everyone around them. I remembered my dad came to the police station to update the marital status on his household registry document. He had to change it to “Divorced” before he could legally marry Chloe. In my past life, I threw tantrums for days over this and even hid his registry document just to stop them from getting married. That made Chloe hate me with a burning passion, which led her to hire human traffickers to sell me into the mountains. This time, how could I let them get what they wanted so easily? I picked up my iced coffee, popped the lid off, and slowly walked up behind my dad. The exact moment my dad opened the registry booklet and presented the page to the clerk, I deliberately “tripped” and splashed the entire cup of coffee directly onto it. Then, amidst the gasps of the crowd, I frantically used my sleeve to “wipe” the coffee stains off the page. But I rubbed it incredibly hard, scrubbing the official document until it dissolved into a soggy, pulpy mess of wet paper. My dad roared, “Peach Vance, are you crazy?!” I replied coldly, “Watch your phrasing. My name is now Peach Sterling.” “You did that on purpose?!” “Of course!” My dad raised his hand, fully intending to slap me, but my mom reached out and blocked it mid-air. My mom gripped his wrist. He twisted and pulled for a long time but surprisingly couldn’t break free at all. “William Vance, never underestimate the physical strength of a stay-at-home mom. Especially a woman who has to carry a child and mop the floors every single day. Her arm strength is terrifying.” With a sharp flick of her wrist, my mom shoved William back several steps. The clerk yelled, “Hey, hey, hey! This is a police station! No fighting in here!” William quickly asked the clerk if he could get a replacement registry document, but was told the printer was out of official paper and he would have to wait until tomorrow. Chloe stomped her feet in frustration. Even though she desperately wanted to go crazy, she was intimidated by my mom’s presence and didn’t dare lay a hand on me. Seeing her expression made me want to laugh. “What’s wrong, Auntie Mistress? Are you in that much of a hurry? You finally managed to push out the original wife, and now you’re terrified that delaying your marriage license by one day will ruin your master plan?” Chloe muttered a few more curses before my dad dragged her away. After they were out of earshot, my mom finally asked me, “Peach, what was the point of doing that?” I knew full well that doing that was essentially useless. Even if I stole the document, I couldn’t stop those two scumbags from getting married. All I wanted to do was draw Chloe’s aggro. I needed her to view me as a massive threat so she would resort to the same drastic measures against me as she did in my past life. 9 A month later, I officially became Peach Sterling. Shedding the “Vance” name felt like taking a breath of fresh air. It was liberating. Calculating the timeline, today was the exact day Chloe would make her move. Today also happened to be her son Leo’s birthday. In my past life, when the three of them celebrated his birthday, I didn’t want to be a third wheel, so I asked my dad for some money, planning to eat out and come home late. Before my dad could even reach for his wallet, Chloe surprisingly jumped in, enthusiastically shoving a hundred-dollar bill into my hand. Smiling brightly, she told me to treat my classmates and that it was perfectly fine if I came home late. Whenever things are unnaturally perfect, there’s always a demon lurking behind the scenes. And just like that, I got kidnapped. This time, I was fully prepared. I wasn’t afraid of whatever tricks she had up her sleeve. I told my mom in advance that I was going to a classmate’s house after school to do homework, so she shouldn’t wait up for me for dinner. I also deliberately called my dad to ask for allowance money. Chloe, you better be smart about this. I practically handed you the perfect opportunity on a silver platter. You absolutely must make your move. After school, I slipped something into the deepest inner pocket of my jacket and started wandering the streets. Small alleys, dark side streets… wherever it was dark, I went. Wherever it was deserted, I slipped in. Finally, the pair of dark hands I had been eagerly anticipating arrived. Two men clamped a hand over my mouth and dragged me toward a waiting van. I put up a token struggle for a few seconds, then found a comfortable position and let them restrain me. Once in the van, the three traffickers started chatting. “Boss, I feel like something isn’t right.” “What’s not right?” “This little girl was way too easy to grab.” “That bitch said this kid is only fourteen. How hard could she possibly be to grab?” Two of the traffickers glanced back at me. I quickly stifled a yawn and continued to perform my best impression of a terrified, trembling victim.

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To infiltrate the largest crime syndicate in the southern province as an undercover operative, I turned to the streets the very day after I was expelled from the police academy. My boyfriend dumped me, disgusted by my choices. My best friend cut all ties, cursing me for throwing my life away. Even my father, who had always doted on me, officially disowned me. I remained unmoved, sinking deeper into the darkness. Three years into my life on the streets, I finally penetrated the syndicate’s inner circle. That same day, my father wept as he severed all ties with me. He swore he no longer had a daughter, declaring he wished I were dead. For seven years, I didn’t have a single night of peaceful sleep. Every day, my conscience tore me apart. Finally, three days ago, the syndicate failed another major operation and discovered a mole. They found me. After transmitting the core evidence to my handlers, I was brutally tortured by them for ten agonizing hours until I died. My soul drifted, ultimately returning to my father’s side. It had been years since I last saw him. His hair was completely white now. His posture, once straight and proud, was gone. From a distance, he looked like he was carrying the weight of a mountain—old and stooped. Our neighbor, Mr. Henderson, saw my father and walked over with a smirk. “Hey, Arthur. Your daughter hasn’t been back this year either, huh? Running with the wrong crowd is dangerous. You don’t think something happened to her, do you?” My father’s usually calm face instantly darkened. He let out a cold snort and snapped back. “I haven’t had a daughter in ten years. And even if I did, she wouldn’t have lasted this long. She should have died a long time ago.” As if that wasn’t enough, he stomped his foot and yelled, “I served my country! I worked in the factories! I have lived a clean, honest life! How could I raise such an animal?! If she’s dead, then she’s finally done something good for the Sterling family!” Hearing that felt like a physical blow. It hurt more than the thousand cuts I suffered at the hands of the syndicate. I could count on one hand the number of times I had been home in the last few years. And every time I saw him, his words were exactly the same. “You piece of trash. You menace to society. What are you doing here?” “You are not welcome here. Get out.” “Dad, I barely get to come home. Just let me have one meal with you. I promise I’ll leave right after. I won’t bother you.” I used to cling to his arm, trying to act like the little girl he used to spoil. I didn’t expect him to pamper me like before; I just desperately wanted a little more time with him. But his face would turn dark with rage. He literally threw the trash from the front porch right into my face. Old wrappers and rotting food covered me. The neighbors would gather, pointing and whispering. “Arthur is being too harsh. He won’t even share a meal with his own daughter.” “What do you know? She looks innocent, but she’s absolute garbage. She runs a gang, extorts people… she does every bad thing you can think of.” My face burned with shame. Looking at my furious father, I stayed silent for a moment before turning away. Covered in the stench of garbage, I sat on the cold concrete steps outside all night. I felt deeply wronged, but I didn’t blame him. My father served in the military when he was young. He was forced to medically retire after sustaining a severe injury and spent the rest of his life working in a factory. When I was little, he always told me that if it wasn’t for his early medical discharge, he would have been a proud police officer. While other kids fell asleep to fairy tales, I fell asleep to stories of his military service. To fulfill his dream, I studied relentlessly and, against all odds, was accepted into the police academy. The sound of a mocking scoff pulled me back to the present. Looking at Mr. Henderson’s sneering face, I knew he was doing it on purpose. Everyone in this neighborhood knew that Arthur Sterling’s daughter was expelled from the police academy for insubordination. My bright future was thrown away. And Arthur, who had been so incredibly proud when I got into the academy, became the neighborhood joke. When Mr. Henderson was younger, my father frequently caught him committing petty theft, making him a regular at the local precinct. He and my father despised each other. So, he naturally took every opportunity to rub salt in the wound. Hearing my father’s words, he laughed loudly, his eyes filled with mockery. “Arthur, what are you saying? No matter how much of a lowlife she is, she’s still your flesh and blood. You can’t escape that.” My father’s face turned ash-gray, his chest heaving. He ground his teeth, speaking as if it took every ounce of his remaining strength. “I do not have a daughter like her. What she’s done is unforgivable. God will strike that animal down one day.” With that, my father turned and walked away quickly, his steps slightly unsteady. The neighbors laughed. I floated beside my father, my spectral eyes red. When he was young, he was respected wherever he went. Now, in his old age, he was being humiliated—all because of me. I watched helplessly as the corners of his mouth trembled, his eyes slowly turning red. It felt like ten thousand blades piercing my heart. I knew he couldn’t hear me, but I stood beside him and finally said the words I had held back for so long. “I’m sorry, Dad.” 2 Back home, my father sat heavily on the sofa, panting, a thin layer of cold sweat covering his forehead. Only after a long while did he pull a folded piece of paper from his inner pocket. He carefully smoothed it out. I froze for a moment before I recognized it. It was my acceptance letter to the police academy. More than a decade had passed, and the paper was worn and yellowed with age. The bold, powerful print was now faded and blurry. But my father picked up his reading glasses from the table, sat up straight, and began to read it softly. “Student Mia Sterling, you have been accepted to our academy… to become a probationary…” His voice grew louder, and a profound, agonizing sorrow washed over me, suffocating me until I couldn’t breathe. Scenes from the past flashed before my eyes. I remembered it was a sweltering summer day, the heat making my clothes stick to my skin. I was running home, clutching that acceptance letter. The warm breeze brushed my face, and it felt like the whole world was cheering for me. “Dad! I got in! Dad! I got in!” I yelled the entire way, drawing the attention of everyone in the neighborhood. My father was in his prime back then. He ran out of the building, his face radiating pure joy. His large hands held the letter, reading it over and over. The light in his eyes burned as bright as the midday sun. “That’s my girl! You are my pride and joy! I am so proud of you!” He grabbed me by the waist and lifted me high into the air. That was the closest I ever felt to the sky. I remember that day clearly. He walked me around the entire neighborhood, showing the letter to everyone he met, proudly patting his chest. “The police academy! My daughter! She got in!” Every neighbor gave a thumbs-up, smiling and saying, “Like father, like daughter! Arthur’s girl is tougher than the boys! A future cop! Good for her!” But no one expected that a year later, I would be expelled for insubordination. The day I brought my bags home, my father’s eyes were bloodshot. It was the first time I ever saw him cry. He gripped his leather belt tightly, but only hit me twice before he turned it on himself, sobbing. “I failed to raise you right! It’s all my fault!” That night, we held each other and cried until dawn. From that day on, my father could no longer hold his head high in the neighborhood. His straight back slowly bent. He stayed hidden in the apartment, no longer going out to chat or play chess. He was terrified someone would bring me up. He dreaded the mockery, but he dreaded the pity even more. Ten years passed like that. Meanwhile, I took a path completely opposite to the one he dreamed of. I became a street thug. At first, he yelled at me and hit me, using every lecture and moral argument he knew to try and bring me back to the right path. But when he realized I wasn’t going to change, he completely gave up. He cut off all contact and changed the locks on the door. Even if I waited outside all night, all I got was a look of absolute, burning hatred. The bond between father and daughter was shattered. We became like enemies, entirely disconnected. So, seeing this acceptance letter… I couldn’t believe he had actually kept it. A wave of ancient bitterness, buried deep within his heart for a decade, enveloped me. I could almost see him, in the dead of countless nights, holding this letter and weeping silently. Everything that happened had shattered his pride, and the image of him crying hit me squarely between the eyes like a bullet. 3 Time ticked by. My father just sat on the sofa, staring blankly from dawn until dusk. He only snapped out of it when his stomach growled. He stood up shakily, walked to the kitchen, and opened the refrigerator. It was packed with fresh ingredients and pre-cooked meals. I was stunned. I had bought all of this for him three days ago. Maybe it was a sixth sense, but three days ago, I felt an overwhelming urge to come home. I bought bags and bags of groceries and shoved them all into his fridge. He looked at me with the same disgust, yelling at me to get out. “Take your garbage and get out!” “The Sterling family doesn’t need trash like you! Your stuff has blood on it! It stinks!” He cursed at me viciously, but I was used to it. I just replied calmly, “If it stinks, just soak it in ginger and scallion water to get the smell out.” I took the ingredients into the kitchen, cooked a massive feast in silence, and then put on a smile. “Dad, we’ve never actually shared a drink. How about a couple of shots?” I don’t know why, but for some reason, he didn’t kick me out that day. Instead, he sat down at the table with a dark expression. We sat across from each other, neither knowing what to say. I took a few shots by myself. Once the alcohol hit, I turned to him. “Dad, it’s been ten years. I know I’ve humiliated you out there.” “But whether you believe me or not… I have never done anything truly bad.” “I… I really have my reasons.” Hearing that, before the shot glass even touched his lips, he slammed it onto the floor. “Reasons? I’m old, Mia, not blind.” “What reason makes you disobey orders and throw away your badge?” “What reason makes you abandon your home for ten years to run with gangs?” “What reason makes you an expert in extortion, gambling, and violence? What reason turns you into a menace to society?!” My blood roared in my ears with shame. I felt the heat radiating from my body, but I couldn’t say a single word. I wanted to scream that I wasn’t a criminal, that I was an undercover cop! But the words died in my throat. His thin, weathered hand slammed hard on the table. His eyes were shining with tears and a desperate, agonizing hope. “Say it! If you really have a reason, is it something you can’t even tell your own father?!” I stayed silent. To him, my silence was guilt. He flipped the table, glaring at me with raw, bitter disappointment. Every word he spoke felt like he was coughing up blood. “I’m asking you: how did I raise you?!” “I told you to be honest! To live with a clear conscience!” He struck his own chest hard, the sound echoing hollowly in the small room. “What did you do?! Do you have a clear conscience?!” With that, he slapped me across the face. My ear rang sharply, and the suppressed grief of a decade finally exploded. I shot to my feet and screamed back at him, completely losing control. “I, Mia Sterling, have a clear conscience for everything I have done!” He looked at me, trembling from head to toe, his eyes utterly devoid of hope. He stumbled backward. I reached out to catch him, but he shoved my hands away. “Dad…” I called out softly. But he shook his head, looking at me like I was a complete stranger. “Don’t call me Dad. You are not my daughter.” “My daughter died ten years ago.” He looked at me, gritted his teeth, and with every ounce of his strength, forced out the final words. “And you’re the one who killed her.” He shoved me out the door. My vision blurred with tears as I practically ran toward the nearby woods. Clutching my phone, I couldn’t stop myself from dialing that number. Before the other person could speak, I sobbed, “Please… I don’t want to do this anymore. I want to be a real cop. In the light. Once this is over, you have to restore my file, please!” A heavy sigh echoed through the phone. There was a long pause. “Mia, you know this. You’re the only one who successfully infiltrated the inner circle…” “Just give us one more year. In one year, we launch the final strike…” “A year! Always another year!” My voice grew hysterical. “It’s always ‘one more year’! It’s been ten years! Sir, I am so tired.” Without waiting for a response, I hung up the phone and broke down weeping. Watching my father pull the cold, leftover food from the fridge and force it into his mouth, a sharp pang of sorrow pierced my spectral heart. A knock echoed at the door. My father looked up, then glanced at the food on the table. He quickly swept it into the trash can. He took a few deep breaths before walking over to open the door. “You piece of trash, I told you, you are no longer my daughter! Don’t you ever come back!” But as the door swung open, he froze. Standing there were several officers in full dress uniform. The officers instantly snapped to attention, their eyes red, and said softly, “We’re here to bring our comrade, Mia Sterling, home.” 4 My father instinctively frowned at the sight of the police. “What did she do this time?” He looked past the officers, searching the hallway for me. “I already kicked her out. This isn’t her home, and she’s not part of the Sterling family anymore. She’s a menace. You don’t need to bring her here. This isn’t her house.” His face flushed with anger as he tried to shut the door. The lead officer gently caught the door and shook her head. Before she could speak, her eyes welled up with tears. She looked at my father, her voice trembling. “Mr. Sterling… we are Mia’s colleagues.” My father froze completely. He didn’t move. His jaw dropped. He understood the words perfectly, but putting them together… it didn’t make any sense to an old man. “What did you say?” The lead officer opened her mouth, trying to speak, but the words caught in her throat. Behind her, several officers sniffled audibly. My father seemed to realize something. He swayed on his feet. The lead officer quickly reached out to support him, and he gripped her arm like a drowning man holding onto a lifeline. “You’re lying. She told you to say this, didn’t she? Did she get a life sentence? Is that why you’re covering for her?” The officer took a deep, shaky breath and spoke slowly, enunciating every word. “Mr. Sterling, Mia died in the line of duty while deep undercover to dismantle the syndicate. She gave her life for this city.” My father didn’t hear a single word after that. He just stood there, staring into space, muttering the same phrase over and over. “Died in the line of duty.” He couldn’t believe it. The daughter who was sitting across from him drinking just three days ago was now dead. And he didn’t understand how the daughter he had cursed, the daughter he had hated and resented for ten years, had suddenly earned the phrase “died in the line of duty.” The words I had screamed at him during that dinner—I have a clear conscience—struck his heart like a bolt of lightning. He finally understood what I meant. He realized that I had never failed to live up to his expectations. I had been living by them every single day. Even when everyone I knew despised me, I never wavered. I walked alone in the absolute darkness to protect the light. In that moment, he felt every ounce of the agony I had endured. He couldn’t control his expression anymore. The old man, who had barely shed a tear in his entire life, broke down sobbing, unable to even catch his breath. The lead officer held him tight, keeping him from collapsing onto the floor. Her voice was low and steady as she gently urged him, “Sir, please. Don’t be sad. You have to come with us to bring her home.” My father’s eyes flickered with a faint light, and he murmured, “Yes… I need to bring her home.” Supported by the officers, he walked out of the apartment, step by heavy step. By sheer coincidence, Mr. Henderson was walking by. Seeing the scene, he couldn’t resist taking a jab. “What’s this? Did your daughter finally get the death penalty? Hahahaha! Crying like a baby… going to see her one last time? Looks like God finally did you a favor and took her away!” My father didn’t react to his cruel words. He just kept walking, completely numb. His only thought was seeing me one last time. One of the younger officers couldn’t take it. He clenched his fists and lunged forward, but the lead officer pulled him back. She looked at Mr. Henderson and spoke with icy detachment. “Considering you’re ignorant of the facts, I’ll let this slide once. Mr. Sterling’s daughter, Mia, is our comrade. If I hear you spewing garbage like that again, you’ll spend the rest of your life in a cell.” Leaving a dumbfounded Mr. Henderson standing in the hallway, the group continued forward. My father followed the police like a walking corpse until he reached my body. His face was entirely blank. When he stood next to the white sheet covering me, he seemed completely lost. He reached out several times to pull it back, but his hand froze, as if someone was holding it back. I knew why. He was terrified that if he pulled it back, it would really be me. He desperately hoped that as long as he didn’t look, I was still alive somewhere out there.

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During my time working undercover, to prove my absolute loyalty, I took a bullet for a ruthless mafia boss. I ended up losing my memory for three years. On the day I finally woke up, I casually reached my hand out. The terrifying boss dropped to his knees immediately, offering his cheek to my palm. He looked at me with puppy-dog eyes and whined, “Can you hit me a little lighter today? I have a board meeting later.” 1 I was completely, utterly dumbfounded. “B-b-b…” Before I could even get the word ‘boss’ out. Damien lowered his head, gently rubbing my hand. “There are a lot of outsiders here. Save it for when we get home, okay?” Wait. Was this the same cold-blooded, ruthless mafia boss who murdered people without blinking? My last memory of him was him pointing a gun directly at my forehead, looking at me with pure disgust, and snarling, “Stay away from me!” Back then, forget about touching him; if you even looked at him wrong, he would shoot you a glare that could kill. But now? Not only was he initiating contact, but he also looked like an obedient, well-trained puppy. The most absurd part was that all his terrifying henchmen standing around the room looked completely unfazed, as if this was perfectly normal. I was so horrified I tried to yank my hand back. The man gripped it tighter, his eyes suddenly turning dangerous. “Wife, why aren’t you hitting me?” “You still have your eye on that pretty-boy doctor, don’t you?” “Fine. I’ll send him to the Sahara to get a tan.” He was being completely unreasonable. But Damien was a man of his word. I gritted my teeth, raised my other hand, and slapped him across the face. Smack! It was a crisp, loud sound. The man didn’t dodge at all. Half of his breathtakingly handsome face instantly turned bright red. My hand was shaking violently. I was terrified he was going to pull the gun from his waistband and blow my brains out the next second. Instead, the man gently touched his red cheek, his lips quivering slightly. “That hurts.” What am I supposed to do?! You told me to do it! Do you want me to blow on it for you?! Just as the thought crossed my mind… Damien dropped to both knees, pressed his face against my palm, and nuzzled it. “Wife, blow on it.” Oh my god! Just kill me now! 2 Three years ago, I was sent undercover to infiltrate his syndicate. But things went wrong right from the start. Damien’s inner circle was entirely out of my reach. He never went anywhere without an army of bodyguards. My only option was to get a job at a high-end nightclub he owned. I waited forever for the day he finally showed up. Desperate to impress him and get noticed, I insisted on doing a party trick: opening a beer bottle with my bare hands. The bottle cap flew off and hit Damien squarely on the nose. The beer sprayed everywhere, soaking his custom-tailored designer suit. That night, I learned what a truly intimidating, murderous glare looked like. As punishment, I was banished to guard the restroom doors. I guarded those doors for an entire month. Finally, I caught Damien coming to the club again. This time, he was here for a business meeting. My superiors had tipped me off that he was involved in some highly illegal trafficking deals recently. They ordered me to keep a close eye on him. I begged the club madam for a chance to serve his VIP room. The madam looked at me with a deeply conflicted expression. “I mean, you’re gorgeous, and your body is amazing, but…” She closed her eyes and gritted her teeth. “The boss doesn’t swing that way!” Oh, right. I had always kept my hair short. When I applied for the job, I found out they only hired women with long hair for the hostess positions. Left with no choice, I lied and said I was a guy. I stomped my foot, urgently arguing my case. “But what if he does like guys?” “Think about it! He comes here all the time and never touches any of the beautiful women. He’s always alone!” The madam had a sudden look of realization. My logic convinced her. She tried to give me a sheer, see-through shirt to wear. I frantically waved my hands. No way. I have a large chest; it would be completely obvious. I’d heard that these powerful, wealthy men often had weird fetishes. So, I asked for a classic school uniform. I didn’t wear a drop of makeup, just some strawberry-flavored lip balm. When I pushed the door open and walked in, everyone inside simultaneously put down their drinks. A kind-looking older man warned me, “Kid, I think you’re in the wrong room.” I looked at Damien, whose face was completely unreadable, and called out timidly, “Brother.” The man’s brow furrowed deeply. “You have the wrong person.” I ran toward him, but I didn’t watch my step and stepped squarely on an empty bottle. I executed a flawless, sliding drop to my knees. My face nearly smashed directly into “Little Damien.” It was mortifying. The man reached out a finger, pressing it against my forehead to stop my momentum. “Where exactly are you looking?” I looked up at him, gently massaging his leg. “Brother, please take me in.” I made the tears flow on command. “My dad is a gambling addict; he lost all our money. My mom is terminally ill, and my little sister is starving. We can’t even afford food.” Damien toyed with his expensive lighter, his face entirely unmoved. “I’ve heard that exact story at least ten times.” So what? This time, no matter what he said, I wasn’t leaving. I had to get back everything I lost! One of his subordinates walked in. “Boss, Mr. Shaw is here.” Alarm bells rang in my head. My superiors had specifically told me to watch out for this guy. Damien’s expression turned cold. He stood up, stepping around me. “Get out.” I won’t. “Only if you promise to take me in.” The man’s eyes were dark and heavy, staring intently at me. “Are you of age?” I nodded. He looked away, letting out a dark scoff. “What a shame. I don’t like legal adults.” ??? He really is a massive pervert. Just as I was about to say something else, this ‘Mr. Shaw’ walked in. He looked back and forth between Damien and me with an amused, sleazy expression. “I didn’t realize Boss Damien was into this type. You should have said something! I have plenty of these at my place.” Damien pulled out his gun, pressed the cold barrel directly against my forehead, and said with eyes full of ice: “Stay away from me.” I lingered sneakily outside the door. Constantly monitoring the situation inside. Suddenly, an argument broke out in the room. I rushed in right behind Damien’s subordinates. I saw this ‘Mr. Shaw’, clutching his bleeding forehead, pointing a gun directly at Damien. “Go to hell!” Right as he was about to pull the trigger— In that split second, I didn’t think. I just purely didn’t want Damien to die that easily. I sprinted toward him faster than I ever had. The exact second I tackled him to the ground, the gunshot rang out. In my last moment of consciousness. I heard Damien’s furious, roaring voice: “Are you a complete idiot?!” If I hadn’t pushed him, that bullet would have gone straight through his brain. Miraculously, I survived. But I lost my memory. The amnesiac version of me had a completely different personality. According to bystanders’ summaries: I became a massive pervert. I would constantly hug Damien and demand kisses for no reason. I would barge into the bathroom while he was showering and try to measure his “dimensions” with my hands. Even more absurdly, I demanded to sleep using his abs as a pillow every single night. I became incredibly extroverted and arrogant. The identity I gave myself to the outside world was Damien’s “Ancestor.” I loved throwing my arms around him and calling him “Hubby” in public, regardless of the setting. Relying on his absolute indulgence, I constantly picked fights and caused trouble everywhere we went. And finally… I became extremely violent. I would slap Damien at the drop of a hat. When I took it too far, I would even make him wear handcuffs. The basement of his mansion was filled entirely with “tools” I had prepared for him. 3 I slammed my hands on the table and stood up. “That’s absolute bullshit!” Barnaby jumped, visibly terrified. “M-m-ma’am… y-you really did do all those things.” He was the personal bodyguard Damien had assigned to protect me. He was a good guy, his only flaw being a severe stutter. Honestly, I already knew about everything I did during my amnesia years. But… I just couldn’t accept it. I desperately tried to convince myself it was all a terrible nightmare. I asked Barnaby quietly: “When I hit Damien… did he never fight back at all?” Barnaby picked at his fingernails nervously. He recalled that every time I hit the boss, not only did the boss not get angry, but he also looked like a submissive little wife, holding my hand and asking if I wanted to hit him again. “F-f-f…” “F-f-f…” Fight back? That doesn’t make sense. Then how do I still have all ten of my fingers? “F-f-fine… it didn’t matter, you just hit him harder.” Barnaby finally finished his sentence, looking at me with pure terror. “The boss said, ‘Only a man with a wife gets to be hit. You guys don’t have wives, so no one hits you. It’s truly pathetic.’” I was speechless. Now that my memory was back, I was anxious about my mission progress. I contacted my handler. My handler started by sending a bunch of question marks. “Aren’t you dead?” Me: “Are you cursing me? Watch it, or I’ll file a formal complaint!” Handler: “Oh? Is my little baby throwing a tantrum? Keep it up, and I’ll take away your pacifier!” Me: “…Did I offend you somehow? Why are you being so mean?” My handler continued with his sarcastic, passive-aggressive tone: “I wouldn’t dare! You’re Damien’s precious little baby! I couldn’t reach you anywhere and thought you’d been kidnapped. When I finally found you on the street and tried to bring you in, you—” I remembered. I treated my handler like a human trafficker. I remembered everything. Every single detail. He got more and more agitated as he spoke: “You called me a creepy old fossil! You said I was ugly and tacky! You said I couldn’t even compare to a single finger on your precious Damien!” “I was so pissed off I didn’t eat for three days!” “How am I ugly?! I was the hottest guy in the bureau!” I admitted my mistake and apologized profusely. Finally, we got down to business. My handler told me they had investigated everything. Mr. Shaw was arrested. As for Damien, because he cooperated with the police and played a key role in the arrest, he received a commendation as an “Outstanding Citizen.” They investigated his entire organization inside and out and found absolutely zero illegal activity. But during my amnesia, Damien kept me under incredibly tight surveillance, so the bureau didn’t dare make a move to extract me. Most importantly, my amnesiac self refused to leave Damien. I threw massive, hysterical tantrums whenever they tried to take me away. It gave the bureau a massive headache, so they just decided to leave me with him for the time being. As for now, it was up to me to find a plausible excuse to leave on my own. Before hanging up, my handler said with a gloating, schadenfreude tone: “It looks to me like he’s genuinely in love with you, letting you beat and scold him like that. If you just pack up and leave, who knows, hehe…” What the hell are you ‘hehe’-ing about, you old fossil?! 4 While I was having a massive headache over the situation, Damien’s assistant called. “Ma’am, you haven’t checked in today.” Me: “Checked in for what?” He sighed. “No wonder.” Then he pleaded with me: “Ma’am, please come down here and coax the boss! He’s about to blow up the entire company.” Leave it to me! I didn’t know the way, so I made Barnaby drive. He looked like he was about to cry. “W-w-w-w…” I thought he was just too excited to serve me, so I patted his shoulder encouragingly. “From now on, you are my most trusted man! Keep up the good work!” “N-n-no, Ma’am. I wanted to say, I’ve failed my driving test… f-f-five times.” Useless! I forced him to act as my human GPS. Half an hour later, I deeply regretted that decision. We came to an intersection. I asked Barnaby which way to go. He rolled down the window, sticking his head almost entirely out. “S-s-s…” “S-s-s…” Straight, right? Got it. I even sped up a little. Barnaby’s face turned bright red from the effort. “S-s-s-suddenly turn right!” …I really should just throw him out of the car. Damn you. Thanks to Barnaby, it was already nightfall by the time we arrived at Damien’s corporate headquarters. Damien’s assistant, Mr. Davis, was a true professional. The security guards told me he had been waiting for me by the curb since the afternoon. “Sorry about that. Traffic.” He gave a mysterious, knowing smile. “It’s completely fine. This little wait is absolutely nothing.” Then he led the way. He was limping heavily. “Mr. Davis, what happened to your leg?” Barnaby jumped in: “It’s p-p-probably p-p-p-paralyzed!” Mr. Davis sternly reprimanded him: “Don’t curse in front of the Madam.”

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I was Julian’s child bride, raised by his family. On our wedding day, he died in a tragic accident, falling into the ocean. While I was drowning in grief, my parents-in-law suggested I marry his younger brother instead. I was just about to refuse when a string of comments suddenly appeared in mid-air right in front of me: [Ugh, the evil supporting female character is so annoying, constantly clinging to the male lead. Thank God he faked his death to escape the wedding.] [Does she really think that just because her dad died saving the male lead’s parents, she can use that guilt to force him to marry her? She deserves to be a widow for the rest of her life!] I stared blankly for a long time before wiping away my tears. “Okay. I’ll marry him.” 1 My husband, Julian Sterling. Died by falling into the ocean on our wedding day. The search and rescue teams scoured the waters for twenty-four hours. They never found a body. They only recovered the car he had been driving. After Julian’s funeral. My mother-in-law held my hand, her eyes red from crying. She said she couldn’t bear to see me become a widow at such a young age, and she couldn’t bear to lose me as a daughter-in-law. She gently urged me to marry her younger son, Liam. I froze, and was just opening my mouth to decline. When a string of floating text suddenly materialized in front of my eyes. [The evil supporting female character is so annoying, constantly clinging to the male lead. Thank God he faked his death to escape the wedding.] I paused. Male lead? Who were they talking about? [She’s literally the daughter of a chauffeur and a maid. How is she worthy of the male lead? Does she really think that just because her dad died saving the male lead’s parents, she can use that guilt to force him to marry her? She deserves to be a widow for the rest of her life!] That’s when I finally understood. The “male lead” these people were talking about was Julian. And the “evil supporting female character”… was me. 2 I was originally the daughter of the Sterling family’s chauffeur and housekeeper. Twenty years ago, my parents-in-law were targeted by hitmen. My parents sacrificed their own lives to ensure they escaped safely. At only three years old, I became an orphan with no one in the world. Out of profound gratitude, my parents-in-law betrothed me to their son, Julian, who was the same age as me. They promised they would never let me suffer a single hardship for the rest of my life. Over the years, Julian and I grew up together. We went to the same schools, got into the same university, and I yielded to his every whim. I did it all just to give peace of mind to the parents-in-law who doted on me. I never expected that Julian would rather fake his own death than marry me. I looked at my parents-in-law. They had lost so much weight and aged visibly from the grief of losing Julian. A surge of fierce anger ignited in my chest. If he didn’t want to marry me, he could have just said so! Why go to the extreme of faking his death and causing them so much agonizing heartbreak?! Beside me, my mother-in-law was still trying to persuade me: “Liam is only three years younger than you. He’s twenty now, the perfect age to get married.” [Tsk, stop trying to convince her. The evil supporting female character would never marry Liam. She’s obsessively in love with Julian and only wants to play the tragic, devoted widow for him.] [Six months from now, the male lead is going to return with the pregnant female lead. They think his garbage parents will finally stop pressuring him, but they refuse to let the female lead into the house! They demand the male lead take responsibility for the evil supporting female character instead! The evil female character tortures the female lead, and the garbage parents and Liam help her do it.] [Don’t get mad, guys! The evil female character eventually gets what’s coming to her and dies. Liam dies trying to protect her, and the garbage parents drop dead from the shock. Our male and female leads will have the last laugh!] [And don’t even feel bad for those relatives! Spoiler alert: the male lead was switched at birth! His biological parents treat him amazingly later on. Unlike this fake family that only sides with outsiders!] Watching the comments scroll by, my hands slowly clenched into tight fists. Julian wasn’t even their biological son?! Thinking about my incredibly kind, loving parents-in-law and the sweet, obedient Liam meeting such horrific ends filled me with absolute fury. 3 I looked directly at my mother-in-law and gave a firm, decisive nod. “Mom, I agree.” [Is the evil supporting female character having a psychotic break? Did she find out the male lead is still alive and intentionally marry his brother to make him jealous?] [Pfft, dream on. The male lead only has the female lead in his heart. She could stay a virgin widow for him her entire life and he still wouldn’t spare her a single glance.] Stay a virgin widow for Julian? In his dreams! Since he wanted to marry someone else… I’d gladly grant his wish. But. As long as I drew breath. I would absolutely never let my parents-in-law or Liam suffer the fate those comments described. My mother-in-law froze in shock, then her eyes welled up with red. She grabbed my hand tightly. “Oh, my sweet girl.” Julian and I had held a wedding ceremony, but we hadn’t legally registered the marriage. We weren’t a legally recognized couple. So, acting quickly under my parents-in-law’s direction. Liam and I went to the courthouse, got our marriage license, and became legally wed. However, since the eldest son of the Sterling family had just “passed away.” The house was still shrouded in deep mourning. We didn’t hold a second wedding ceremony. 4 Exactly as the floating text predicted, six months later. Julian returned, bringing the pregnant female lead with him. My parents-in-law and Liam weren’t home. When the butler escorted them inside, I was the only one in the grand living room, quietly eating lunch. The moment Julian walked in and saw me, his brow furrowed in deep disgust. “Mia, why are you still squatting in my house?” I looked up at him. Julian was dressed in plain, cheap clothes, looking utterly exhausted and worn down. He was noticeably thinner than before. He had a tan and looked incredibly haggard. It seemed that without the Sterling family’s financial backing for the last six months, he had eaten quite a bit of dirt out in the real world. As for the female lead, Chloe. She was petite and slender, the textbook definition of a fragile, innocent white flower. Her stomach showed a slight bump, and she was currently cowering timidly against Julian’s chest. I elegantly dabbed my mouth with a napkin, watching them with a calm, amused expression, and didn’t say a word. [The male and female leads finally survived their hardships and made it back! Soon, the Sterling empire will belong to them, they’ll have a spectacular wedding, and become the happiest couple in the world!] [Why isn’t the evil supporting character saying anything? She must be so thrilled to see the male lead alive that her brain short-circuited, right?] Thrilled? I scoffed internally. Over the past six months… Liam and I had grown incredibly close. In the boardroom, we were a flawlessly synchronized team. At home, under the loving gaze of our parents, we retired to the same bedroom every night. What started as stiff and awkward had gradually become completely natural and comfortable. As for Julian, he no longer caused even the slightest ripple of emotion in my heart. Furthermore, I had already uncovered the truth about Julian’s actual lineage. When my mother-in-law gave birth to her first child, medical malpractice resulted in a stillbirth. Terrified of taking the blame, the delivering doctor panicked. Coincidentally, the doctor’s sister had gotten pregnant out of wedlock and delivered a baby boy on the exact same day, but couldn’t afford to raise him. Knowing the Sterling family was incredibly wealthy. The two sisters hatched a plan and swapped the babies, passing the sister’s son off as my mother-in-law’s child. My original plan was that if they never came back, I would keep this secret buried forever to spare my mother-in-law the heartbreak. But since they had the nerve to return, there was no way I was letting my in-laws continue to be deceived by these parasites! 5 Seeing me stand there in silence, Julian’s face twisted with impatience. “I asked you a question! Are you deaf?” “Let me make this crystal clear: I wouldn’t marry you then, and I won’t marry you now. Chloe is the only woman I will ever love. She is carrying the eldest grandson of the Sterling family! My parents value their bloodline above all else; they will never force me to marry you now! If you know what’s good for you, pack your bags and get out of my house!” The woman in his arms, Chloe, nestled against his chest like a fragile bird, speaking in a soft, whispery voice: “Julian, is this the woman who was obsessively stalking you and insisting she’d only ever marry you? Since your parents love her so much, will they refuse to let me marry you?” Julian patted her back comfortingly, his voice dripping with tenderness. “Chloe, you are the one I love. And now that you’re carrying my child, my parents will absolutely accept you. Don’t worry.” Chloe shot me a timid, fearful glance, as if terrified of me, and buried her face back into his chest. This only fueled Julian’s anger toward me. “What are you just standing there for?! You’re nothing but the daughter of our maid! If it weren’t for my parents, you’d be rotting on the streets! Hurry up and prepare a room for my Chloe, and welcome us properly!” I stared at Julian, the comments about my in-laws’ tragic fate flashing through my mind. A tidal wave of emotion surged within me. I wanted nothing more than to order security to throw this disgusting pair out into the street. But I couldn’t. Right now, my parents-in-law still didn’t know the truth about Julian’s bloodline. To them, their eldest son, whom they had raised and loved for twenty years, had just miraculously returned from the dead. They would be absolutely ecstatic. If I threw him out now. It would break their hearts. I stood up and calmly instructed the maids to prepare a room for Chloe and Julian. Chloe immediately teared up, looking deeply distressed. “Julian… she’s the lady of the house… I shouldn’t have come back with you…” Hearing this, Julian pulled Chloe tightly into his arms, looking at her with profound heartache. Then he shot me a freezing glare: “Who do you think you are, ordering the Sterling family staff around?! Get upstairs and clean Chloe’s room yourself! If you don’t serve her perfectly, I’ll have you thrown out of the Sterling estate!” 6 Right at that moment, my young husband, Liam, returned home from his university classes. As soon as he walked through the door, he heard Julian’s enraged shouting. Then, he saw Julian’s face. He froze completely. He clearly hadn’t expected him to still be alive. Quickly, a bright smile spread across his face. “Brother! You’re alive! Mom and Dad are going to be so incredibly happy!” Then, as if remembering something. His gaze shifted to me, his expression momentarily twisting with complex emotion and a hint of profound melancholy. Even though Liam and I had been married for six months, and we slept in the same room to ease our parents’ minds. We hadn’t consummated the marriage. Usually, I slept on the bed, and he slept on a mattress on the floor. Julian patted Liam’s shoulder and announced, “Liam, let me introduce you. This is your sister-in-law. She’s pregnant with my child.” Liam finally noticed Chloe huddled in Julian’s arms. His eyes widened in sheer shock. He looked at me again, opening his mouth but unable to find the words. Seeing Liam’s gaze, Julian shot me another look of pure disgust and explained with a scoff: “I have zero feelings for Mia, and I will never marry her. Now that I have a wife, she has no right to stay in my house. I’ll talk to Mom and Dad and have her pack her bags immediately. Don’t feel bad for her, Liam. Our family raised her for twenty years; we’ve more than repaid whatever debt we owed her.” Liam’s brow immediately furrowed in anger. He said sharply: “Brother, watch your mouth. Mia is a permanent member of the Sterling family. Absolutely no one has the right to tell her to leave!” Julian’s face instantly darkened with displeasure. [What kind of black magic did Mia use to brainwash Liam and the garbage parents?! They’d rather side with an outsider than the male lead!] [The male lead is the eldest son of the Sterling family! How dare Liam disrespect him for Mia?! He deserves his miserable death!] [Don’t be sad, guys! The male lead’s biological parents treat him like a king later! He doesn’t need this trash family or this trash brother! They only care about outsiders anyway!] Reading the floating comments, I let out a cold laugh in my head. Want to have your cake and eat it too, huh? Fine, you love your biological parents so much? I had already hired private investigators to track them down. Very soon, I’d reunite them for a beautiful, happy family reunion! 7 When my parents-in-law received the news that Julian was alive. They were overwhelmed with joy and immediately rushed home from the office. Julian and Chloe had already changed into expensive, luxurious designer clothes. They were sitting on the plush sofa, clinging to each other sickeningly. Liam and I sat on the opposite sofa, staring straight ahead, completely ignoring them. Chloe nervously twisted her fingers. “Julian, do you think your parents will hate me…?” Julian comforted her confidently. “My parents have always wanted a grandchild. Once they hear you’re carrying the Sterling family heir, they’ll love you unconditionally.” He then shot me an icy glare, letting out a dismissive scoff: “Don’t worry about her. She’s just a maid’s daughter. How could she possibly compete with the mother of the eldest Sterling grandson?” He turned his attention back to me. “I’m warning you, don’t even think about bullying Chloe. Otherwise, forget about me—even my parents won’t tolerate your existence in this house!” Chloe chimed in with her soft, breathy voice. “Julian, please. Her parents did serve your family for years. Even if they didn’t do anything spectacular, they worked hard…” Julian tilted his chin up, snorting coldly. “Her whole family is just a bunch of servants.” Liam’s face turned livid, and he opened his mouth to snap back. I grabbed his sleeve and shook my head gently. I had warned him earlier that no matter what garbage came out of Julian’s mouth today. He was to ignore it. He glared at me, aggressively yanking his sleeve out of my grip. He let out a cold huff and didn’t say anything else. But he aggressively turned his body away from me, radiating pure, unadulterated sulking energy. Living in the same room with Liam all this time. This was the very first time he had ever been genuinely mad at me. I actually found it quite novel, and honestly, kind of cute. As for Julian. He was just a pathetic clown with a fast-approaching expiration date. He wasn’t worth my energy. If our parents walked in and saw the brothers screaming at each other over me. It would only break their hearts. 8 Right on cue, the floating comments started scrolling rapidly across my vision again. [The evil female character obviously still can’t let go of the male lead. Even when he’s sitting there with another woman, she still instinctively protects him!] [She’s loved him for years, of course she doesn’t want Liam fighting with him! She’s only acting submissive now because the male lead is watching. The second he leaves, her jealousy will explode and she’ll start torturing the female lead!] Julian saw me hold Liam back, and a cold smirk crossed his face. He gave me a look that screamed, “I knew it.” He clearly shared the exact same delusions as those comments. I couldn’t be bothered to acknowledge him. Just then, the butler’s voice echoed from the hallway. “Mr. and Mrs. Sterling have arrived.” My in-laws were home. I put on a bright smile and stood up to greet them. But Julian violently shoved past me, shooting me a look of pure mockery. “Right now, the only thing my parents want to see is me, and their eldest grandson.” With that, he grabbed Chloe’s hand and marched out to meet them. Chloe followed timidly behind him, but the triumphant, ecstatic gleam in her eyes was impossible to hide. Liam stood next to me, his face as dark as a thundercloud. His fists were clenched so tight his knuckles were white. He looked ready to murder Julian. I grabbed his hand and gently shook my head at him. Our parents just got home. This isn’t the time to fight. Liam’s fury only intensified. He glared at me, clearly struggling to suppress his rage, and hissed: “He’s already replaced you with someone else, and you’re still protecting him?!” I opened my mouth, desperate to explain. But Liam had already stormed out of the room in a furious huff. I followed him out. I saw Julian shoot me a freezing look before leading Chloe directly up to my in-laws. “Mom, Dad. I’m home.” He immediately gestured to Chloe beside him, unable to wait another second: “This is Chloe. She’s carrying your grandchild.” “She is the only woman I will ever love. I am absolutely not marrying Mia.” “The only person who will ever be the lady of the Sterling house is Chloe.” Chloe offered them a picture-perfect, demure smile. “Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Sterling.” 9 The next second. My parents-in-law completely froze. They stared blankly at Julian and Chloe. Then, their eyes darted behind them, landing on me and Liam. Finally, they looked at each other, exhaled a simultaneous, massive sigh of relief. And broke into identical, radiant smiles. “Good. It’s wonderful that you’re back.” My mother-in-law took Chloe’s hand. She slipped an incredibly rare, hundred-thousand-dollar jade bangle off her own wrist. And slid it onto Chloe’s, smiling with genuine maternal warmth. “Such a sweet girl.” They had been agonizing over how to break the news to Julian. The news that I was already married to Liam. But now that Julian had brought home his own woman. It was the perfect, miraculous solution for everyone. As they walked into the main living room. Chloe looked absolutely thrilled, shooting Julian a look of pure worship. I even heard Julian cast a disdainful glance in my direction before whispering to Chloe: “I told you not to worry. The eldest grandson of the Sterling empire is infinitely more valuable to them than the daughter of some maid!” Chloe nodded eagerly, then added with fake concern, “But your sister… she’s so deeply in love with you. Will she hate me?”

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My younger brother and sister both got accepted into college at the same time. Since my family’s financial situation was tight, my parents sat me down for a “discussion.” They would pay for my brother’s education, and I was expected to pay for my sister’s. I agreed to give my sister $200 a month for living expenses. Later, my sister graduated, passed the civil service exam, and became the pride of the entire family. Meanwhile, I overworked myself into a severe illness. When I reached out to her for help, she blocked my number. “Back then, you gave our brother $350 a month, but you only gave me $200! Do you have any idea how I survived those four years of college?!” I died in agonizing pain and complete despair. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the time they were both starting college. This time, facing my parents’ demands, I said: “If she can’t afford to go to school, then she shouldn’t go. Tell her to get a job.” 1 I woke up and found myself back in the year I graduated college. My younger brother, Tyler, and my younger sister, Mia, had both just been accepted into college. My mom grabbed my hand, sighing heavily, and poured her heart out about how hard things were for the family. The factory she worked at wasn’t doing well; she hadn’t been paid in months. Supporting two kids in college at the same time was just too difficult. She hoped I would start working immediately so I could help share the burden. “You don’t need to worry about your brother’s expenses. And we’ve already covered your sister’s tuition. All you have to do is send her monthly living expenses.” “Of course, we aren’t making you pay for everything. You’ll be the primary provider, and I’ll supplement it. If you’re ever really short on cash, Mom will help you out.” Her mouth moved as she spoke, her exhausted face perfectly aligning with my memories from my past life. Every tear, every look was designed to tell me how difficult things were for the family, and how incredibly selfish and immature I was being for wanting to go to grad school. In my past life, it was on this exact day. I gave up my acceptance letter to a top-tier university’s graduate program and frantically started submitting job applications. My undergraduate degree was in a foundational science, making it incredibly hard to find a job in my field. After bouncing around, I finally landed a job with a miserable salary of $600 a month. After sending Mia $200 every month and paying my rent, my bank account was basically at zero. For those few years, I worked a second job every night after my main job. I had no time to cook, surviving on cheap, $1 fast-food delivery meals to fill my stomach. No matter how hard or exhausting it was, every time I transferred money to my sister, I felt a massive sense of accomplishment. Because when I was in college, my parents didn’t give me a single cent. I survived entirely on part-time jobs. I had to pinch pennies just to eat, and I often couldn’t even afford basic necessities like sanitary pads. Because I had walked through the rain, I wanted to hold an umbrella for my sister. And eventually, my sister didn’t disappoint. Right after graduation, she passed the highly competitive civil service exam and became the most successful child in our family. Aside from my parents, I was the happiest person for her. However, ever since she graduated, her attitude towards me became incredibly cold. I couldn’t understand why. My parents consoled me: “Your sister is grown up now, you can’t expect her to be stuck to you like when you were kids. Working in the government is stressful, you need to be more understanding.” Even though it hurt, and I didn’t understand what happened, I obediently stopped bothering her. Until two years later, when I was diagnosed with stomach cancer. Due to chronic overwork, staying up late, eating cheap takeout, and having a highly irregular diet, I developed cancer at a very young age. The surgery cost $12,000. I only had $3,000 in savings. My coworkers, taking pity on me, pooled together another $3,000 to lend me. I was still short $6,000. I went to my parents for help. Looking distressed, they told me that my brother was getting married soon, the family was in debt, and they simply didn’t have any money to give me. Desperate, I turned to my sister for help, only to discover she had blocked my number. I couldn’t fathom why she would do that. When I finally managed to contact her from a different number, I heard her freezing, hateful voice: “Back then, you gave our brother $350 a month, but you only gave me $200! Do you have any idea how I survived those four years of college?!” “My living allowance was the lowest in my entire dorm! When my roommates went out to eat, I didn’t dare go. When I saw clothes I liked, if they cost more than $30, I couldn’t buy them. If I wanted to get my hair done, I had to calculate my bank balance first. For four whole years, I couldn’t even go on a single trip!” “I’m a girl too! I deserve nice clothes! I deserve expensive skincare products! I deserve to travel and see the world! But the pathetic amount of money you gave me was constantly telling me that I didn’t deserve any of that, that just not starving was good enough for me!” I was left completely speechless. I had no idea she thought like that. I had clearly done the absolute best I could. When I was barely surviving at the poverty line myself, how was I supposed to afford all those luxuries for her? I opened my mouth to explain, but no words came out. In the end, my mid-stage cancer dragged on until it became terminal, and I died alone in my rented apartment. And that very day happened to be my sister’s wedding day. She walked down the aisle holding my father’s arm, marrying the son of a wealthy entrepreneur, looking absolutely radiant and happy. Later, relying on the connections of his sister’s new in-laws, my brother also secured a respectable, high-paying job. The family’s life kept getting better and better. Only once a year, during the Tomb Sweeping Festival, would my mom occasionally remember her eldest daughter and sigh: “I guess she just had bad luck.” 2 “Ava? Ava?” Seeing me zone out, my mom called my name several times. I snapped back to reality and glanced around the room. My brother, Tyler, had his bedroom door firmly shut as he played video games. He hadn’t stepped out of his room for the entire summer break, except to eat. My sister, Mia, was lying on the sofa, scrolling through short videos and reading web novels, completely oblivious to everything happening around her. Meeting my mom’s expectant gaze, I suddenly felt like my past life had been a massive, pathetic joke. “Mom, the job market is terrible right now. If I don’t go to grad school and just start working, I’ll only make a few hundred dollars a month. How am I supposed to support Mia on that?” My mom’s face stiffened. “…But what about your sister? You know how things are with the family. Your dad’s health is bad, we’ve spent a lot on his medical bills, and we still have the mortgage…” She kept rambling, her voice choking with tears. If this were my past life, hearing these words would have filled me with overwhelming guilt, and I would have eagerly handed over whatever money I had. But now, I just smiled: “Mom, of course I know things are hard for you and Dad. But Tyler and Mia are both adults now. If we need to share the burden, it shouldn’t just fall on me. College students can take out student loans or get part-time jobs. That’s exactly what I did when I was in school. Since the family can’t afford it, they need to figure out their own solutions.” Hearing this, Mia, who had been completely engrossed in her phone, suddenly regained her hearing. She jumped off the sofa. “Sis, what do you mean by that? Just because your life sucks, you want to rob me of my freedom during college?!” Huh? How am I robbing you of your freedom? She tilted her chin up, her eyes full of disdain. “Girls are supposed to be raised with abundance! College is the best time of your life, it should be used for self-improvement and enjoying your youth! Working part-time just wastes time on meaningless, low-end labor. People like you who just love to suffer needlessly have such a narrow, pathetic worldview.” She spouted off a long, dramatic speech she had clearly memorized from some toxic internet influencer. I was utterly speechless. Suppressing my inner urge to laugh in her face, I smiled. “Don’t falsely accuse me. Who said you had to get a part-time job? Mom said that she and Dad can fully afford to support one of you. Since you can’t handle a little hardship, then I guess Tyler will just have to be the one to suffer.” As I spoke, I shot my mom a look. “Mom, I already saw the transfer you sent Tyler. $350 for the month, right? Since Mia says girls are supposed to be raised with abundance, that money should definitely go to her instead!” Hearing this, Mia looked utterly shocked. “Mom! Didn’t you tell me yesterday that we didn’t have any money?! Why did you give Tyler so much?! Don’t play favorites like that!” My mom’s face instantly turned ugly, and her voice grew sharp. “How am I playing favorites?! Boys naturally eat more! And things are expensive at his school! How is he supposed to survive without at least $300 or $400 a month? You’re his older sister, and instead of feeling bad for your brother, you’re trying to steal his food money?! I wasted my time raising you!” Mia exploded: “And you still say you aren’t playing favorites?! I finally realized today that you guys never loved me at all! I don’t care! Whatever you give him, you have to give me the exact same amount…” She started crying and throwing a tantrum, while my mom slammed her hand on the table and yelled at her. They were arguing loudly, creating quite a scene. Amidst their screaming match, I sneered and silently walked out the front door. In my past life, six months into her freshman year, Mia accidentally found out how much Tyler’s allowance was and threw a massive fit at my parents. But back then, my mom told her: “We’re only responsible for your brother. You are your sister’s responsibility. If she isn’t giving you enough, that’s her problem.” That one sentence made her resent me for years. In this life, I ripped off that hypocritical band-aid early. Let them tear each other apart. 3 I decisively went back to my university and began my graduate studies. I heard Mia threw tantrums for days until my parents finally agreed to give her $150 a month. She kept screaming that it wasn’t enough. My mom placated her: “It’s really not that Mom is playing favorites. Originally, when your sister graduated, we hoped she would help the family out and cover your living expenses. Who knew she would be so selfish and only care about herself?” “If she had just started working earlier, you wouldn’t be struggling like this.” With a few perfectly calculated words, she completely shifted all the blame and resentment back onto me. 4 Consequently, half a month into the semester, I received a link in my messages. “Sis, Mom and Dad are already paying for my living expenses. Buying me a new phone isn’t asking too much, right?” It was for an iPhone 16 Pro, costing nearly $1,500. Just like in my past life, whenever she wanted something, she demanded it from me as if it were her absolute birthright. Back then, I was broke and couldn’t possibly afford it. I gritted my teeth, sent her $400, and urged her to buy a cheaper Android phone instead. “You’re still a student. You don’t need such an expensive phone. The Android ones have a much better price-to-performance ratio.” However, that incident became the definitive “proof” of how I supposedly destroyed her self-esteem. Much later, I heard her say: “Back then, all my friends were using the newest iPhones, but you forced me to use a cheap, embarrassing Android phone. Do you have any idea how insecure and humiliated that made me feel?!” Well. Since an Android phone made her feel so humiliated, I definitely wasn’t going to buy her one in this life. That should solve her self-esteem issues, right? I typed back: “You’re a student, and I’m a student too. Where am I supposed to get the money for that?” Mia: “Don’t grad students get a stipend?” The grad student stipend was barely $150 a month. I was getting a little annoyed. “That stipend isn’t even enough to cover my food. I have no money.” She got angry: “Then you should go out and get a job! If you don’t have money, why are you even in grad school?! You know the family is struggling, but you refuse to help Mom and Dad out! You’re so selfish!” I laughed: “Then why don’t you go get a job? If you don’t have money, why are you in college? You know the family is struggling, why haven’t you dropped out to work? Aren’t you being selfish?” She sent a voice memo, her voice piercingly shrill: “How can you even compare us?! As the oldest sister, you’re practically a mother to me. This is your responsibility!” “Besides, someone with a miserable fate like yours is destined to end up working in a factory anyway! Reading more books is just a complete waste on you! It would be better to invest those resources into someone with actual value!” It took me two lifetimes to finally realize the truth. The sister I had always loved and spoiled had never, ever respected me. Perhaps it was because I had been so deeply conditioned by my parents since childhood, taking on so many responsibilities that were never mine to bear… That the brother and sister I practically raised single-handedly subconsciously viewed me as nothing more than their personal servant. I calmed myself down and replied, “You’re right. So why is someone as incredibly valuable as you having to beg for a phone like a homeless person?” It was like I stepped on her tail. She exploded: “You’re nothing special! I can buy it myself without you!” I locked my screen and didn’t bother replying again. 5 Two months later. I saw the newest iPhone model on Mia’s social media feed anyway. She had gotten expensive manicures, posted beautiful vacation photos, and looked incredibly comfortable and bourgeois. Based on the allowance my parents gave her, there was absolutely no way she could afford that lifestyle. And given her personality, there was zero chance she had earned that money working a part-time job. I thought about it for a moment. I opened her university’s official website. Sure enough, on the list of students receiving financial aid grants, I saw her name. 6 Honestly, our family’s financial situation wasn’t exactly wealthy, but we definitely weren’t living in actual poverty either. My parents owned the house they lived in and another apartment they rented out. Their combined monthly income was over $1,500. They simply didn’t want to spend too much money on their daughters. Because of this, even though I had struggled financially, I never applied for financial aid, refusing to steal resources from families who were genuinely poor. Mia clearly didn’t share that moral compass. 7 After thinking it over for a few minutes. I found the contact information for her university’s anonymous “Confessions/Gossip” page. And submitted an anonymous tip. 8 Very quickly, a post exposing a “financial aid student” buying luxury goods and taking vacations appeared on the page. The school forum erupted in controversy. Facing questioning from her classmates, Mia stubbornly defended herself: “I only use the financial aid money for food! The money I use for my phone and vacations is my own money!” Her arrogant, unapologetic attitude enraged the student body. Students started reporting her to the academic affairs office en masse. Her financial aid status was quickly revoked. And she was given a formal disciplinary warning on her record. She was so furious she started posting unhinged rants on her social media. “I don’t know which jealous, ugly bitch reported me, but who says poor students can’t travel or buy iPhones?! The money was given to me, so it’s mine! How I spend it is none of your business! Why are you acting like the morality police?!” Watching her impotent rage… I casually swiped past the post, enjoying the monkey show from a civilized distance. Without my financial support and with her financial aid revoked… Mia’s life became significantly harder than it had been in my past life. Ultimately, she had no choice but to resort to the “meaningless, low-end labor” she so deeply despised. But her personality meant she couldn’t handle the hardship. She thought washing dishes was disgusting, shaking bubble tea was exhausting, and she didn’t have the patience to deal with bratty kids as a tutor. She bounced around and ended up making basically no money. She spent every day exhausted, running around, filled with resentment and complaints. 9 Meanwhile, I buried myself in my research, leading projects and working closely with my advisor. I traveled all over the country attending academic conferences. I was busy, but deeply fulfilled. Having earned this chance at grad school after two lifetimes, I cherished it more than anything. Watching my data sets slowly come together, the deep wounds from my past life slowly began to heal. Three years flew by in the blink of an eye. As graduation approached, I started looking at campus recruitment opportunities. With the prestige of a top-tier university backing me… The opportunities in this life were infinitely better than my last. I successfully passed the interviews for a technical engineering role at a massive, state-owned enterprise. The job was located in a southern city, over a thousand miles away from home. The salary and benefits also far exceeded my expectations.

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My husband couldn’t forget his “one that got away.” In the VIP room of a club, drunk out of his mind, he confessed his truth to his friends: “I’ve loved her for years. It killed me that she got married before I could confess. And now that she’s finally divorced, it kills me that I’m married.” I wasn’t angry. I still stayed by his side. My husband despised me. He saw me as a pathetic, clingy doormat with no personality, an obstacle standing between him and his true love. He desperately wanted to divorce me. But every time he brought it up, I refused. What he didn’t know was that he was just my assigned target. I only needed to reject his demand for a divorce three times, and the system would forcibly terminate my mission. … When I rushed to the club through the pouring rain, I arrived just in time to hear Arthur Sterling’s confession: “I’ve loved her for years, but before I could tell her, she got married.” “And now that she’s finally divorced, I’m the one who’s tied down.” One of his frat brothers teased him, “You could always just get a divorce, man.” Arthur’s drunken voice dripped with disdain and contempt. “That woman is obsessed with me. She’s practically psychotic. Do you really think she’d ever agree to a divorce?” “You guys have no idea. Every time I see her hovering around me, I get sick to my stomach. She has absolutely no personality, no sense of self.” “She couldn’t even compare to one of Chloe’s fingernails.” I stood frozen in the hallway outside the open door. Behind me, the sharp click-clack of high heels echoed. It was Arthur’s beloved “one that got away,” Chloe Vance. “Mia, you’re here. Why aren’t you going inside?” she asked, her voice light and musical. She flashed me a brilliant, arrogant smile, her pretty eyes glinting with malice. “What are you eavesdropping on?” The men inside suddenly noticed me. The color drained from their faces, and they shot guilty, panicked looks at Arthur. For a split second, Arthur looked sober and terrified, but his expression instantly hardened into ice. “You heard all of that?” There were too many people in the room. To save Arthur’s face, I played dumb. “Heard what? I just got here.” Arthur let out a cold, disgusted laugh and turned his head away, refusing to look at me. I walked into the room to help him up. “It’s really late. Let’s go home.” Arthur violently shoved me away without a shred of hesitation. He snapped impatiently, “Didn’t I tell you I wasn’t coming home tonight? Why did you track me down? Do you have any idea how annoying you are?” He was drunk, so he didn’t bother hiding his temper. His expression was a terrifying, vicious scowl I had never seen before. It made him look like a complete stranger. Actually, maybe not a stranger. He had been treating me like this for a while now. Ever since his “true love” announced her divorce. “Arthur, don’t talk to Mia like that. She only came to pick you up because she cares about you,” Chloe chimed in with sickeningly fake sweetness. “How about this: Mia and I will take you home together. Is that okay?” Arthur looked at Chloe’s face, and his features softened visibly. “Okay.” So, I ended up driving, while Arthur and Chloe squeezed into the backseat together. I don’t know if Arthur was actually blackout drunk or just doing it on purpose, but he laid his head directly on Chloe’s lap, resting there intimately like they were deeply in love. It made my eyes burn. Chloe offered a sickly-sweet apology. “Mia, please don’t misunderstand. Arthur is just drunk. I really hope you two don’t fight because of me.” I didn’t say a word. I had absolutely zero desire to waste my energy interacting with a manipulative homewrecker. But Chloe just wouldn’t shut up. “You really do have a boring personality. No wonder you and Arthur haven’t developed any real feelings after being married for five years.” Chapter 2 Those words actually stung. Yeah. Once upon a time, I had genuinely fantasized about the whole “arranged marriage turning into true love” trope with him. But at the end of the day, Arthur always loved his “one that got away” more. When the car pulled up to the estate, Chloe completely ignored me and practically carried Arthur inside by herself. I didn’t stop her. I just sat in the driver’s seat, looking at the photo I had just taken on my phone. The next day, when Arthur sobered up, I shoved the photo in his face. It was a picture of him sleeping peacefully on Chloe’s lap, while she gazed down at him with profound affection. Arthur stared at the screen, stunned. Then, a subtle wave of joy washed over his face. I knew exactly what he was thinking. He was absolutely thrilled that Chloe was looking at him with love in her eyes. So, I intentionally threw a massive tantrum, screaming at him, “What exactly is going on between you and that homewrecking slut, Chloe Vance?!” Arthur’s brow furrowed instantly. “Mia, watch your mouth. Have some class, will you?” I yelled back furiously, “Even if I have no class, I am still your wife! I have every right to control what you do, and I have every right to curse out the homewrecker you’re messing around with!” I used the ugliest words I could think of. Just as I hoped, Arthur’s expression turned pitch black. He glared at me with absolute freezing hatred. “What? Am I not your wife? Do I not have that right?!” “Then let’s get a divorce,” Arthur said, his voice dripping with profound exhaustion and disgust. “Mia, we’re getting a divorce.” I forced myself to look hysterical and screamed, “I will not agree to that! Arthur Sterling, I will never divorce you!” Arthur gave me a look that practically said, I knew it. As if he had predicted exactly how pathetic and desperate I would be. Sick of my presence, he slammed the bedroom door and left. The second he was gone, the furious mask melted off my face. I calmly pulled out a chair and sat down at my desk. Finally. He initiated the divorce. Six years ago, the System pulled me into this dimension and assigned me the mission of capturing Arthur Sterling’s heart. For six years, I played the role of the devoted, deeply-in-love woman flawlessly. I sacrificed everything to marry him. At one point, I even actually fell for him. But Arthur still didn’t love me. I failed the mission. Now, the only way out was the fail-safe: if Arthur explicitly demanded a divorce three separate times, the mission would be forcibly terminated, and I could finally return to my own world. That was strike one. Just two more to go. When Arthur returned home later that day, I was in my study, organizing my illustration drafts. After marrying Arthur, I became a full-time housewife, but I also worked as a freelance illustrator. I had actually built a pretty solid following online. Right now, I was finalizing my very first original comic series. It had taken me over two years to conceptualize and draw. Originally, I planned to publish it in this world, but since I was leaving soon, I decided to take the intellectual property back to my original dimension with me. Hearing the front door open, I closed my sketchbook and walked out to greet him, pretending our massive fight never happened. “You’re back?” I asked softly. Arthur looked incredibly stiff and awkward, like he wanted to say something but couldn’t get the words out. I walked toward him, knowing exactly what was coming, but feigning ignorance. “I made your favorite soup. Let me go heat it up for you.” The second I stepped out of the study, I saw exactly why Arthur looked so guilty. Chloe was standing in the foyer, holding a massive suitcase. “Hi, Mia,” Chloe said, flashing me a gentle, apologetic smile. “I’ve been getting harassed by some crazy stalker fans lately, so I can’t stay at my place. Would it be okay if I crashed here for a few days until things cool down?” I stared at her, my face completely blank. I didn’t say a word. Arthur, clearly feeling guilty, spoke up softly to defend her. “It’s true. Some fan leaked Chloe’s address. They’ve been banging on her door every night and following her.” Seeing my continued silence, Arthur started to lose his patience. His brows drew together in an irritated scowl. “There is absolutely nothing going on between me and Chloe. We’ve just been friends for years. She’s in trouble, and I can’t just leave her out on the street.” “Mia, there has to be a limit to your irrational jealousy. Stop testing my patience. We’ve been married for five years; can you please grow up and stop acting like a dramatic teenager?” “Fine,” I said, breaking my gaze away from Chloe and looking directly at Arthur. “She can stay.” Chapter 3 Why wouldn’t I let her stay? Having her living under the same roof was the fastest way to detonate the remaining tension between Arthur and me. It was the quickest way to get him to demand a divorce for the second time. The sooner I could leave this world, the better. Arthur looked at me in genuine shock. His eyes flickered with something unreadable—almost like he was still unsatisfied. “What? I said yes, and you’re still not happy?” Arthur frowned, pointing a warning finger at me. “Don’t try anything stupid. If I find out you’re secretly bullying Chloe while I’m not around, I won’t let it slide.” I actually wanted to laugh out loud. I was his legal wife, yet he was bending over backwards to protect an outsider from me. I really wanted to ask him: Arthur, after all these years together, have you honestly never felt a single shred of genuine affection for me? But I didn’t. Arthur ignored me and hurried down the stairs to help Chloe with her luggage. While he was setting up the guest room, I heard him cheerfully say to her, “Mia made this incredible herbal soup earlier. Once we’re done unpacking, I’ll bring you a bowl.” “Mia has a lot of flaws, but her cooking is top-tier. Your health hasn’t been great lately, so we’ll have her cook some nutritious meals for you while you’re here.” I rolled my eyes and scoffed. Arthur, do you really think that just because we’re married, I’m your personal maid? Do you honestly believe that no matter how much you degrade me, I’ll never leave you? I can’t wait to see the look on your face when I’m finally gone. I walked downstairs, went straight into the kitchen, drank one bowl of the soup myself, and poured the entire rest of the pot straight down the garbage disposal. I spent all day simmering that soup. I’d rather pour it down the drain than let this trashy duo have a single drop. I went back up to my study and resumed organizing my comic drafts. Not ten minutes later, Arthur violently shoved the study door open, glaring at me. “Where is the soup?” I kept my eyes on my tablet and answered coldly, “I dumped it.” “What?!” Arthur looked like a completely different person. His voice exploded with rage. “Mia, what the hell is your problem?! If you didn’t want Chloe to stay here, you should have just said no! What is the point of agreeing to her face and then playing these passive-aggressive, petty little games behind my back?!” I looked up at him, my voice freezing cold. “If I had said no, would you have gracefully accepted it without throwing a fit?” Arthur glared at me, struck speechless. I stared right back at him, holding my breath, waiting for him to drop the D-word for the second time. But to my immense disappointment, he didn’t. He just slammed the door and stormed out again. Late that night, after washing up, I got into bed. Downstairs in the living room, Arthur and Chloe were drinking wine and laughing. The atmosphere sounded incredibly cozy and romantic; their laughter echoed all the way up to the master bedroom. I don’t know how much time passed. I was deep in sleep when I suddenly felt heavy arms wrap around me from behind. It was Arthur. His breath was scorching hot and reeked of alcohol. He started pressing wet, sloppy kisses against the back of my neck. A wave of absolute revulsion washed over me. I violently shoved him off. “What are you doing?!” The shove sobered him up slightly. He scowled in annoyance. “You’re my wife. What do you think I’m doing?” Seeing me physically recoil from him, his face darkened into a menacing glare. “This is your duty as a wife. Mia, if you’re going to keep acting like a prude and refuse to let me touch you, then get the hell out of my house.” Ever since I discovered he was emotionally cheating with Chloe, I hadn’t let him touch me. It had been almost three months. “Your house?” I asked, my voice flat. Arthur looked at me with smug, absolute superiority, fully convinced I was about to yield. “When you married me, you had absolutely nothing. I paid for this house entirely by myself, so yes, it’s my house. Did you forget, Mia? You literally begged me to marry you.” “If you aren’t going to let me touch you, then get out!” Chapter 4 I was so utterly speechless that I just went quiet, and then a bitter laugh escaped my lips. Back then, he was my assigned target. To complete the mission, I really had begged him to marry me. I couldn’t deny it. I just never expected that the man I had actually developed real feelings for would weaponize my vulnerability to obliterate my dignity. “Fine. I’m leaving.” I opened the closet and haphazardly threw a few essentials into a duffel bag. Before walking out the door, I paused for a second. I was waiting for him to deliver the killing blow—to say something cruel, like, If you walk out that door, we’re getting a divorce. But Arthur completely misread my hesitation. He ruthlessly mocked me. “I thought you were leaving? Go on! Walk out!” His tone made it painfully obvious that he thought I was just throwing a theatrical tantrum for attention, and that I’d never actually leave him. I realized the fire wasn’t quite hot enough yet. I needed to push him over the edge. So, I pivoted, marched straight to the guest room where Chloe was sleeping, and started violently pounding on the door. I wanted to manufacture a catastrophic, explosive argument to force Arthur to say the word ‘divorce’. Arthur sprinted down the hall and grabbed my arm, yanking me back. “What the hell are you doing, Mia?! Have you lost your damn mind?!” I thrashed against his grip. “Let me go! Arthur, don’t think I don’t know exactly what you’re planning! You’re obsessed with Chloe, aren’t you?! I’m going to ask her right now if she actually wants you!” I thought pushing this specific button would guarantee he demanded a divorce. But I never, in a million years, expected his reaction. He raised his hand and slapped me hard across the face. The sharp crack echoed in the hallway. I froze, completely stunned into silence. Arthur looked equally shocked. He stood there, staring at his trembling hand, his lips parting slightly. He looked like he wanted to apologize, but his pride wouldn’t let him. Finally, he just gritted out, “Get back in your room.” I felt a profound, bottomless disappointment in him. Staring at his bloodshot eyes, I felt tears threatening to spill. Arthur couldn’t maintain eye contact. He looked away and muttered, “Mia, if you pull a stunt like this again, I really will divorce you.” Finally. I finally heard the words I had been waiting for. Even though every fiber of my being was screaming YES! Let’s go sign the papers right now!, I had to play my part. I forced myself to look devastated, choking back tears of “anger and betrayal.” “I will never agree to that!” I turned and practically sprinted out of the villa. Finally. Just one more strike, and I could permanently evacuate this nightmare. I wandered the empty streets for hours before finally stopping. Staring at the desolate roads and the flickering amber streetlights, a heavy wave of existential dread washed over me. Six years ago, I was dropped into this world. My entire existence had revolved around one single objective: Arthur Sterling. I had spent so much time orbiting him that I had never bothered to build a life or a social circle of my own. Thank God I had never given up my career as an illustrator. Once I returned to my original world, I could use my new comic series to establish myself as a successful artist. The thought of my comic made me instantly regret storming out so fast. I had forgotten my manuscript drafts in the study. I’d have to find an excuse to go back and pack them up. I checked into a nearby hotel. Days passed, and Arthur didn’t reach out once. I didn’t want to waste any more time, so just as I was hyping myself up to go back to the villa and force the final confrontation, disaster struck. Chloe Vance uploaded my entire comic series to her massive art account. She had digitized my hand-drawn drafts, but the character designs, the plot, the storyboards… it was all a 1:1 stolen copy. I was so furious I nearly blacked out. I immediately called Arthur. I called five times. He ignored every single one, and eventually just turned his phone off. I forced myself to calm down. I logged onto my own art account, tagged Chloe, and publicly accused her of plagiarism. Chloe and I were both illustrators, but our careers were vastly different. I focused entirely on the art, while she operated more like an influencer. She had recently monetized her highly publicized divorce to farm massive amounts of sympathy and traffic, so her follower count was currently explosive. Chloe immediately released a statement denying the allegations, calling me a liar and demanding I produce hard evidence or issue a public apology. My original physical drafts were locked in the study at the villa. I obviously couldn’t produce them on the spot. Within minutes, her rabid fanbase swarmed my account, flooding my comments and DMs with so much toxic abuse that my phone literally crashed.

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Chapter 1 Every time my husband went to visit his terminally ill childhood friend, he would hint at getting a divorce. Because his childhood friend’s greatest dying wish was to have a legitimate title. Today, he hinted at it again. I didn’t cry, and I didn’t make a scene. I just calmly said, “Okay.” Because this exact conversation had already happened ninety-nine times. And today was the one-hundredth time. I had finally found the definitive reason to convince myself to divorce him. I had miscarried our baby. Now, the only thing tying us together was two thin pieces of paper—our marriage certificate. … Seven days after my miscarriage, I ran into Liam at the mall. He was carrying bags full of shopping, his eyes overflowing with tenderness as he looked at Olivia. But the moment he saw me, he frowned instantly. “What are you doing here? Didn’t we agree to get the divorce finalized first? Are you backing out now?” He looked at me defensively, his icy stare piercing straight through to my heart. Olivia playfully swatted his arm and looked at me apologetically: “Serena, please don’t misunderstand. Liam is just too eager to marry me.” Saying that, she covertly glanced at my stomach, a smug smile playing on her lips. “Our wedding is set for next week. We’d love it if you and the baby came to watch.” I instinctively touched my flat stomach. Before I could speak, Liam cut me off: “How can she come to a wedding when she’s pregnant? What if her condition brings you bad luck? It’s bad energy.” My hand froze on my stomach. Once again, I was stunned by Liam’s absolute callousness. Olivia has a terminal illness, and you don’t think that’s bad luck? You spend every day running around a hospital, and you don’t think that’s bad luck? But because I was carrying your flesh and blood, you think I’m bad luck. It was truly ironic. But then again, I wasn’t Olivia. Why would I deserve your concern? Otherwise, you wouldn’t have completely vanished while knowing I was in the hospital trying to save my pregnancy. If you had just asked me a single question, you would have known. Our baby was already gone. Seeing me stay silent, Liam didn’t care. He just lowered his head and went back to discussing wedding details with Olivia, completely ignoring me. I watched them silently, countless memories flashing through my mind. Ever since Olivia was diagnosed with her terminal illness, Liam became a completely different person. He stopped caring about our baby, and he stopped coming home. Disappearing without a trace became a regular occurrence. At first, he said: “Serena, Olivia is very sick. I can’t just leave her side.” “Don’t worry, I just feel sorry for her. There’s nothing else going on.” Later, he said: “Serena, Olivia’s greatest dying wish is to marry me. I don’t want her to die with any regrets.” I knew exactly what he was implying, but I refused to understand. He dropped that hint ninety-nine times. And I found ninety-nine different excuses to reject him, ninety-nine times. Until the one-hundredth time, when he stopped hinting. That day, right after I received my 32nd progesterone injection to save the pregnancy, I walked out of the hospital and received a text from Liam. No concern, no comfort. Just a cold, hard notification. [The day after tomorrow, 9:00 AM, meet me outside the courthouse. We’re getting a divorce.] A single sentence, just a few words, completely shattered me. That day, lying on the cold concrete of the parking garage, I called Liam countless times. But in the end, the only call that went through was to 911. The doctor told me they couldn’t save the baby. I lay in my hospital bed from dusk till dawn, waiting, only to receive a single text from him. [Stop calling me so much. The ringing is annoying.] Staring at the message on my screen, I bit my lip until it bled. Liam, I agree. From now on, we will never have anything to do with each other again. I wish you… happiness. My memories stopped there. Liam nudged me, reminding me coldly: “Don’t forget, we’re going to get the divorce finalized tomorrow. Don’t try to fake being sick again.” I was stunned for a moment, then I remembered. On the third day after my miscarriage, Liam had called me. It was the only call he made, while he was waiting outside the courthouse. At the time, I had just finished an IV drip that lasted all night, and I was in terrible shape. When I answered the call, I accidentally hit the speakerphone button, and Liam’s impatient, accusing voice echoed through the entire hospital room. “Serena, is this fun for you?” “We agreed on 9:00 AM for the divorce, and it’s already noon. What excuse are you going to use this time?” Under the strange looks from the nurses, it took all my strength to stop trembling. I replied softly: “I’m in the hospital.” The breathing on the other end of the line hitched for a second, then quickly returned to normal. I heard Liam’s disdainful chuckle: “Enough. Stop making excuses. I’ll give you one last chance.” “Next Wednesday, I’ll see you at the courthouse.” The call ended. The nurses didn’t say anything, they just quietly walked out. The moment the door clicked shut, my remaining dignity was utterly destroyed. That was when I realized that the most painful thing wasn’t the harm inflicted by the person you love. It was the pity from bystanders while the person you love is hurting you. Closing my eyes, I pulled myself out of the mud of my memories: “Okay.” Liam raised an eyebrow and continued: “After the divorce, just stay home and focus on your pregnancy. Don’t contact me unless it’s an absolute emergency.” “Okay.” Perhaps because I agreed too readily, Liam was actually taken aback. He loosened his grip on Olivia and his gaze fell on my stomach. “How’s the baby? Is he behaving?” The moment he spoke, my eyes instantly turned red. I used every ounce of my strength to swallow the sob rising in my throat. “He’s behaving. Very well-behaved.” So well-behaved that even when he left, he couldn’t bear to let me suffer for too long. Terrified that I would lose control of my emotions, I didn’t dare say another word and simply turned to leave. As we brushed past each other, I noticed a lipstick stain on Liam’s collar. It was the exact same shade as the lipstick on Olivia’s lips. And the exact same color as the blood on the parking garage floor that day. Walking past a maternity store, a salesperson enthusiastically stopped me. “Ms. Davis, the clothes you ordered last time have arrived.” “Is it convenient for you to pick them up today?” I was about to say I didn’t need them anymore, but my eyes uncontrollably locked onto the baby in the poster. If my baby had been born safely, he probably would have been just as cute. While I was distracted, the salesperson efficiently bagged the clothes and handed them to me. It was a pastel yellow baby onesie. Liam’s favorite color was yellow. I stared blankly at the tiny clothes in the bag and fled the mall in a panic. The moment I closed my car door, the dam broke. How muffled and agonizing can the cries of a mother who just lost her child be? In that moment, I finally knew. By the time I got home, it was late at night. The moment I opened the fridge, I saw the papayas inside. I couldn’t eat them while I was pregnant, and every time I saw them, my mouth would water. Now that I could eat them, seeing them only made me want to cry. Going back to the kitchen, I made two dishes. Papaya stewed in milk, and a bowl of chicken congee. Just as I was about to eat, I heard the sound of keys turning in the front door. Liam walked in, pulling a suitcase behind him. I found it strange; he hadn’t been home in a long time since Olivia’s condition worsened. “Why are you back? Don’t you need to stay with Olivia?” Liam dragged his suitcase straight toward the bedroom, answering casually: “Since Olivia and I are getting married, I came back specifically to pack my things.” “Saves me the trouble later.” I gave a noncommittal “hmm,” but my mind uncontrollably flashed back to Olivia’s words. [Our wedding is set for next week. We’d love it if you and the baby came to watch.] Right, it was only a few days away. If he didn’t move his things now, he might catch my ‘bad luck’ in a few days, and then he wouldn’t be able to shake it off. My tears fell into my bowl, vanishing without a trace, just like Liam’s love for me. But it wasn’t supposed to be like this. He used to anticipate this baby’s arrival, too. We had been so happy for so long. I lowered my head, about to eat my congee, when Liam, having finished packing, suddenly spoke up: “You made chicken congee?” “What a coincidence, Olivia didn’t have dinner. This will be perfect to tide her over.” With that, he naturally walked over and snatched the bowl right out of my hands. I stared at my empty hands, forgetting to react for a moment. It wasn’t until he had already found a clean thermos to pack the congee that I finally spoke: “That’s my dinner.” Liam didn’t even look up as he packed the thermos. “Aren’t there other things on the table? Just eat that.” My gaze fell on the bowl of papaya stewed in milk. I twitched my lips and said softly: “Pregnant women shouldn’t eat papaya.” Liam froze for a second, setting down the thermos: “Then… maybe just eat a little less?” “You’ve had so many prenatal checkups and everything is fine. A little bit shouldn’t hurt, right?” My nose stung. I lifted my head, refusing to let the tears fall. “It’s fine.” The baby was already gone, so nothing mattered anymore. Perhaps sensing my sadness, Liam sighed and pulled me into a hug. “Serena, just hold on a little longer, okay?” “Once the wedding is over, I promise I’ll spend quality time with you. Just bear with it for a bit, alright?” I gave an “mhm,” but my mind uncontrollably drifted to the past. [Serena, Olivia can’t be left alone right now. Once she’s feeling better, I’ll go with you to your prenatal checkup.] [Serena, Olivia has a fever. I’ll call you after her tests are done.] [Serena, Olivia won’t let me leave. I’ll come home to you after she falls asleep.] Liam, when will you realize that I truly can’t wait anymore? I pulled out of his embrace and handed him the thermos. “Go.” Don’t look back. The moment he was about to close the door, I called out to him. “Liam, do you remember what number you were on when you asked me for a divorce that day?” Liam’s back stiffened. Before he could speak, I continued: “One hundred.” “Today is one hundred and one.” “Tomorrow, outside the courthouse. Be there.” With that, I stepped forward and slowly, but firmly, closed the door. Leaning against the door, I heard Liam’s rapid breathing on the other side. He didn’t leave, and I didn’t move. The physical distance between us was just a four-inch thick door. But our hearts were separated by an entire world. The next second, Liam used his key to open the door. He didn’t step inside, just looked at me for a long time. Finally, he pulled a palm-sized baby rattle from his pocket and handed it to me. “I saw this at the mall today. Our baby should like it.” That one sentence shattered all the strength I had forced myself to build. Taking the rattle, I immediately closed and locked the door, collapsing to the floor, sobbing silently. I didn’t understand why people only recognize love after they’ve lost it. Why must he give me a glimmer of hope right after I had finalized my decision? The rattle fell to the floor with a sharp, crisp clink. I sat there on the floor, withered, for the entire night. The next morning, I left on time. As soon as I got in the car, I received a call from the hospital, asking me to pick up the miscarriage report I had left behind. I hadn’t had the courage to open it back then, burying my head in the sand and leaving it at the hospital. I thought that as long as I didn’t look at it, I could pretend nothing had happened. Now, it was time to wake up. At 9:00 AM, Liam was late. He looked like he hadn’t slept all night either, his eyes bloodshot. When he saw me, a flash of disappointment crossed his eyes. “I thought… you wouldn’t come today.” I didn’t say anything, just walked into the courthouse ahead of him. How could I not come? We had both waited too long for this day. Right before signing, Liam suddenly hesitated. His black pen hovered over the paper for a long time, refusing to move. Seeing this, the clerk kindly suggested: “Since the gentleman hasn’t fully made up his mind, maybe you should reconsider.” I smiled, finding it ironic. If he truly hadn’t made up his mind, why would he have insisted on it a hundred times? Liam turned to look at me and whispered: “Serena, as soon as Olivia and my wedding is over, we’ll remarry.” I gave another “mhm,” remaining silent. I figured, he had lied to me so many times, it was my turn to lie to him. Holding the divorce certificate, Liam’s heart beat erratically. He felt an intense, inexplicable unease, as if he had missed something crucial. Walking out the front doors, Olivia had also arrived. She was wearing a yellow sundress, looking absolutely healthy in the sunlight, without a trace of illness. I tilted my head, gesturing to Liam: “Olivia is waiting for you.” Liam gave an unnatural “mhm,” his face devoid of joy. Olivia walked over, pulled an invitation from her purse, and handed it to me with a smile: “Serena, Liam and I talked about it, and we still want to welcome you and the baby to our wedding.” “Here is your invitation.” My first instinct was to tell her I didn’t have a baby anymore, and I wouldn’t be going to the wedding. But then I caught a glimpse of Liam’s tense expression. Forget it, we’re divorced anyway. What’s the point of saying it now? Shaking my head, I stepped around them, ready to leave. A couple walking toward me bumped into me. Smack! My purse fell, its contents spilling all over the ground. Liam’s pupils contracted. He immediately rushed to help me up, asking with urgent concern: “Are you okay? Does your stomach hurt? Our ba—” The rest of his sentence died in his throat. The man’s gaze was locked onto the miscarriage report lying on the ground.

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Everyone says Dominic Sterling is a cold, aloof, and untouchable elite. But the truth is, he followed me around like a love-struck puppy for ten years. When I was pushed into a raging fire, he didn’t even hesitate. He threw away his billion-dollar empire and leaped into the flames to die with me. Reborn into a new life, I decided to stop being the toxic, manipulative woman who constantly toyed with his heart. I promised myself I would treat him well with every ounce of my being. Unfortunately, it seemed he was reborn too. “Seraphina Vance, are you planning to treat me like a trained dog again in this life? Hmm?” He backed me into a corner, shoving divorce papers into my hands. He told me that in this lifetime, he absolutely didn’t want me anymore. Absolutely not. 1 When I was eleven, someone deliberately broke five of my fingers. From that moment on, I swore to myself that I would climb to the absolute top of this world. No matter the cost, by any means necessary. Later, I did a lot of terrible things. Eventually, someone took their revenge by pushing me into a roaring fire. As the flames swallowed me whole, my mind went completely blank. Then, a figure in a white shirt charged into my vision and pulled me into a bone-crushing embrace. It was Dominic Sterling. My husband. The man who loved me so much he was willing to die for me. The man whose only flaw in an otherwise spotless life… was me. As we burned to ash together, a single thought crossed my mind. If there’s a next life, I swear to God, I will rip out my own heart and treat him better than anyone else in the world. 2 “These are the divorce papers.” “Sign them.” The flickering lights made my head spin. The man standing across from me lowered his eyes. Hiding the freezing coldness in their depths. “Dominic.” “Don’t do this.” I tried to grab his hand. His veins popped against his skin as he snatched his hand away violently. It had only been one hour and forty-one minutes since I was reborn. Suddenly, I felt a strange, inexplicable sense of relief. Dominic Sterling finally realized I was just a toxic woman who lied, manipulated him, and stole his money. He didn’t want me anymore. 3 I sat in a small cake shop, looking through the thin glass window. Staring at the two figures moving around in the academic building across the street. Dominic definitely didn’t know I was secretly watching him. Watching him explain a complex problem to that girl, who was practically rubbing against his sleeve. Right. In this life, Dominic finally knows who is truly kind and who is truly innocent. Yet, I still rested my chin in my hand and texted that girl. “Mia, why are you trying to seduce your brother-in-law?” 4 Mia Vance is my younger sister. To be precise, she is the biological heiress. I’m the fake one. When I was twelve, Mrs. Vance found me wandering the streets during a massive thunderstorm and took me in. Everyone thought it was fate. It wasn’t. To make sure Mrs. Vance would find a pitiful, broken child in the rain that day… I intentionally, violently broke my own leg. I wanted wealth. I wanted power. I wanted to stand above everyone else. I wanted to make sure I never had to swallow the agonizing humiliation of poverty ever again. Mia wasn’t found and brought back to the Vance family until she was sixteen. She was eternally kind, innocent, and pure. Everything I had to shatter my own bones to get, she received effortlessly, without doing a single thing. I hated her. I couldn’t understand why she never had to fall into the mud and taste true suffering. 5 I was just that kind of vicious, toxic woman. That’s why I suffered so miserably in my past life. Perhaps Mia really was exactly what people called her. She was “a girl like an angel.” And I had angered the heavens. In this life, the only person who had ever truly loved me had also turned his back on me. I curled up on the sofa, staring at the divorce papers on the coffee table. “Dominic, are you coming home tonight?” That text message had been sitting in my phone, unread and unanswered, for four entire hours. Dominic had a naturally cold personality. His friends always joked that he was a giant block of ice. But in my past life, I never felt that way. I just thought he was my loyal puppy. He would come running the second he caught my scent, constantly rubbing against me. The moment my hand was free, he had to hold it. Forget leaving messages on read—if I sent one text, he would reply with ten paragraphs of loving nagging. But now… A notification popped up. I thought it was him and rushed to check. It wasn’t. It was Mia. A text and a photo. “Sis, I have absolutely no intention of seducing my brother-in-law.” “I just want to help manage Dad’s company, so brother-in-law was kind enough to introduce me to some key contacts.” In the photo, the girl smiled brightly, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with him. They looked like the perfect couple. 6 I must have called Dominic over a dozen times. He didn’t answer a single one, and eventually, he just blocked my number. Honestly, Dominic was completely clueless when it came to social networking and corporate schmoozing. He was purely an academic. In my past life, to snatch a portion of my dad’s corporate shares away from Mia… I ordered him to schmooze and secure connections with top executives at pharmaceutical companies for me. He did it without a single complaint. I never stopped to consider that he was an elite university professor, a man of immense pride. I never thought about how much he had to swallow his pride to beg those corporate sharks for favors. I only remembered one specific incident from my past life. I had just secured a massive deal and gotten completely wasted. I called him to come pick me up. The private VIP room was filled with powerful, influential figures. I leaned back against the plush sofa, watching that crisp white figure walking steadily toward me. “Tsk tsk tsk…” I called him over exactly like I was calling a dog. An incredibly respected medical professor. A man who never bowed his head to anyone in his daily life. To be treated as a joke and played with by me in front of all those people… I must have felt incredibly powerful and smug in that moment. …Everyone in the room thought he was going to slam the door and storm out. But what did the Dominic of that time do? He walked right up to me, step by step. And then, with absolute, unbothered naturalness, he crouched down and took hold of my ankle. He gently slipped my discarded designer heel back onto my foot. He looked up, his strong brow bone softening like a gentle, ancient painting. “It’s getting cold out. Don’t catch a chill.” “Sera.” 7 Sera. He loved calling me that. But since we were reborn, he hadn’t called me that once. … I’m a very light sleeper, so I woke up the moment he walked through the front door. I lay perfectly still, curious to see what he would do when he thought I was asleep and defenseless. Nothing. He walked right past me. He didn’t even bother tossing a blanket over me. I sat up and threw the divorce papers directly at his back. The man paused. The lines of his broad back were distractingly attractive. “Don’t crumple them.” “If I have to print a new copy, you might not get as much in the settlement.” In the pale moonlight, I sat there watching him speak so calmly. A dark storm cloud seemed to hide in his pupils, mixing with an obscure, freezing indifference. “I’m not signing.” I stared at him fiercely. He seemed to expect this. He nodded. “Fine. We’ll go to court then.” “Dominic Sterling, you are a complete bastard.” I lunged at him, trying to grab him, but he overpowered me effortlessly. The moonlight curved softly into the room as he pinned me down on the sofa. His hand gripped my throat. It wasn’t gentle at all. I bit down hard on the webbing between his thumb and index finger, but he acted like he couldn’t feel the pain. Then, suddenly, he let go. A gentle touch brushed across my cheek. “So you know how to cry too.” He dropped that freezing, cryptic sentence. And left me alone in the living room. I pressed my hands hard against my eyes. As if doing that would stop the tears from spilling over. Don’t leave me behind. When I was ten years old, I made a silent vow. I swore I would never say those words out loud ever again. 8 I refused to sign the divorce papers. The very next day, Dominic pulled his investments from every single project I was involved in. The Sterling family owned a massive chunk of the medical and pharmaceutical industry, and he was a top-tier scholar in the field. I admit, in my past life, the only reason I married him was for the immense benefits and power he could provide. I knew he didn’t want me anymore. But when I found out he had transferred all those projects and collaborations directly to Mia… My heart still throbbed with a dull, sickening pain. But then I thought, this makes sense. In my past life, he saw the truth clearly. Mia was so pure and kind. She wasn’t like me. I was someone accustomed to using filthy, underhanded tactics to get what I wanted. However, him pulling his investments was basically sounding the alarm to the entire industry. Overnight, I was completely isolated and cut off from all my resources. … I prepared to try and butter Dominic up again. “Dominic, are you at the university right now?” “I made some lunch. Can I bring it over to you?” I didn’t dare hope he still had lingering feelings for me, but I desperately hoped he would remember our history and not completely destroy me. I stared at my silent phone screen, fully aware of how thick-skinned I was being. We had fought so viciously yesterday, but when my financial survival was on the line, I still had to swallow my pride and beg. I planned to cook him a nice meal and deliver it personally. Then I realized a massive problem. I had absolutely no idea what Dominic’s favorite foods were. Conversely, he probably knew exactly what I liked and hated, forward and backward. After all, in my past life, Professor Sterling’s absolute greatest obsession was feeding me all sorts of delicious food. I wasn’t actually a picky eater, but I loved throwing tantrums and acting spoiled around him. “Dominic, these noodles are way too hard.” “Dominic, who are these mushy noodles even for?” “Dominic, I don’t like spicy food.” “Dominic, since when do you cook everything so bland?” There was only one time I ever truly made him angry. His dark eyes locked onto me, his tone freezing and deadly serious. “Sera, do you honestly believe I’ll stand by your side forever, no matter what?” I looked down, admiring my manicure, and told him: “Then get out.” That was my answer. And he actually got out. It was below freezing outside, and he left without even putting on a coat. He must have been furious. Around dusk, I sent him a single text. “Dominic, I miss you.” Less than fifteen minutes later, the front door burst open. He pulled me into a fierce, desperate embrace, bringing the sharp, biting cold of the outdoors with him. He pressed his straight nose against the crook of my neck, and I heard him say: “Yes. I will stand by your side forever.” …See? For the old me, training Professor Sterling was literally easier than training a dog. … After slicing my finger open for the third time and staring at the bubbling, unidentifiable biohazard in the pot, I finally snapped out of my memories. I realized I was absolutely not a culinary genius. I immediately ordered takeout from The Sterling Pavilion, a high-end restaurant. And transferred the food into my own insulated lunchbox. Whatever… he wouldn’t be able to tell the difference between home-cooked food and restaurant food anyway. …Probably.

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My childhood sweetheart lost his sight in a car crash. Out of the goodness of my heart, I donated one of my corneas to him. He, however, firmly believed I had orchestrated the accident. He was convinced my donation was just a manipulative ploy to force him into marriage and tear him away from his first love. He hated me for the rest of his life. Right before he died, he spat that he would rather be blind than ever have to look at my face again. When I opened my eyes next, I was back in the moment right before he sped off in his car to chase after his first love. I pretended I didn’t know a thing. In this life, I don’t ever want to look at his face again either. 1 In the dead of night, my mother yanked me out of bed. While pulling on her coat, she said grimly, “Get up, quickly. Your Aunt Sarah just called. Arthur was in a terrible car accident. We need to get to the hospital immediately.” My heart hammered in my chest. It wasn’t until we arrived at the hospital and I saw Arthur’s parents pacing frantically outside the operating room that reality finally set in. This wasn’t my life flashing before my eyes right before suicide. I had actually been reborn. My mother rushed over to ask for updates on Arthur’s condition. The adults were in an absolute panic. Ironically, I became the only person calm enough to speak with the doctor. “The family needs to prepare for the worst. The patient sustained severe facial trauma from a massive impact. Both corneas are completely detached. It’s highly likely he will be permanently blind.” Just like in my past life, Aunt Sarah nearly fainted upon hearing the news. I let out a silent sigh, my heart completely devoid of any emotion. I simply asked, “The corneas detached, but can the actual eyeballs be saved?” The doctor gave a noncommittal “We’ll do our best” before shoving a clipboard and pen into my hand. “What is your relation to the patient? Please sign this quickly.” The word wife almost slipped out, but I bit it back hard. I handed the pen to Arthur’s father, who was holding it together slightly better than his wife. “I’m just the neighbor. I don’t have the authority to sign.” In my past life, when I heard Arthur was going to be blind, my reaction was just as hysterical as Aunt Sarah’s. After all, he was the boy I had secretly loved for ten years. The thought of someone as vibrant and arrogant as Arthur never being able to see the world again broke my heart, so I volunteered to donate one of my corneas. Arthur regained his sight. After a few days of depression, he proposed to me right there in the hospital room. He held my arm and said, “Hazel, from now on, we will be each other’s light.” Ten years of unrequited love finally felt validated, but I still hesitated. “What about Chloe?” Arthur scoffed, pointing at his own eye. “If she hadn’t thrown a tantrum and broken up with me in the middle of the night, this never would have happened to me…” He sounded so resolute back then, but less than two years into our marriage, he completely changed. By chance, I saw his search history on an AI app. [How to detach someone’s corneas] [Help me design the perfect car accident] [Can someone who died of carbon monoxide poisoning still donate their corneas?] Seeing those queries felt like plunging straight into hell. I had given him one cornea out of decades of loyalty, yet he was plotting to take my other one. So, I sealed all the doors and windows in our apartment, lit charcoal briquettes, and shared a drink with Arthur for the first time since our wedding. When we were both buzzed, I asked him, “Do you regret marrying me?” The alcohol stripped away his filter. The look he gave me was like a physical blade. “If I didn’t marry you, how could I ever repay you for the magnificent car accident you so carefully orchestrated?” He pulled out my old diary from God-knows-where and slammed it violently onto the table. “Hazel Vance! You’ve been obsessed with me since we were kids. You couldn’t have me, so you staged that crash to blind me, didn’t you?!” “When I went blind, you used your cornea donation to blackmail me into marrying you.” “You destroyed my health, you destroyed my relationship with Chloe, and you thought you could force me to feel indebted to you for the rest of my life. You are absolutely vile! I would rather be blind forever than have to look at your face!” Every word he spat left me in utter shock. With red eyes, I desperately tried to explain it wasn’t me, but he slammed his hand on the table and interrogated me: “Then why else would you willingly become a disabled freak just to give me your cornea?! Don’t tell me you actually bought into that ‘childhood sweethearts’ garbage! We’re just neighbors! We don’t have that kind of deep connection!” I was completely stunned. So this was how Arthur had maliciously analyzed my actions all along. As the oxygen depleted and the carbon monoxide took over, my mind grew hazy. He and I both died in that room. It wasn’t a particularly painful death. 2 This time, I stood back with cold detachment as both families desperately searched for a donor cornea. I had absolutely no intention of getting tangled up in Arthur’s karma again. Aunt Sarah wept continuously, and my mother looked deeply troubled. “Sigh, Arthur’s a good kid. Why on earth would he be speeding in the middle of the night?” “What could possibly be so urgent that he’d risk his life? He was such a bright young man, and now…” A flash of pure hatred crossed Aunt Sarah’s face. “I checked Arthur’s phone. I found out he had secretly gotten a girlfriend named Chloe.” “That girl was throwing a fit. She told him that if he didn’t make it to the train station in ten minutes, she was leaving the city forever. Arthur panicked, and then…” I kept my eyes lowered and said nothing. Logically, this accident had absolutely nothing to do with me. Yet in my past life, Arthur managed to pin the blame entirely on my shoulders. Just as Aunt Sarah finished her sentence, a loud crash echoed from the hospital room. Before I could even react, Aunt Sarah and my mother sprinted inside. I followed them to take a look. Arthur had knocked his water glass off the nightstand and tumbled out of bed. He had violently ripped the bandages off his eyes and was currently reaching out, blindly grasping at the air, his eyes bloodshot and unseeing. “Arthur!” Aunt Sarah’s voice cracked with heartbreak. “Get up, the floor is freezing.” “You just woke up, you can’t thrash around like this! You have a fractured leg, be careful!” Arthur gripped Aunt Sarah’s hand like a drowning man clutching a lifeline. “Mom, what’s wrong with my eyes?” “Why can’t I see anything?! Why?!” Aunt Sarah’s heart broke for her son. She opened her mouth several times but couldn’t force the words out. She covered her mouth, sobbing silently, her shoulders shaking violently as she suppressed the sound. Unable to see where anyone was, Arthur looked around wildly, panic radiating from his blind eyes. Finally, my mother couldn’t bear it anymore. She pulled me forward to help lift him back onto the bed. “Hazel? Is that Hazel?” “Tell me, what happened to me…” I shot a complex look at Aunt Sarah. Receiving her subtle nod of permission, I said: “The car crash caused your corneas to detach. You are permanently blind.” Arthur froze, instantly blurting out, “Impossible.” I didn’t say another word. Aunt Sarah immediately stepped in to comfort him. “Don’t be scared. Your father and Mr. Vance are already looking for donor corneas.” “You’ll get your sight back soon.” Arthur, who had lived his entire life with arrogant, reckless freedom, was completely unequipped to handle this devastating blow. It took the attending doctor coming in on rounds to finally issue a stark warning: “You must take exceptional care of your eyes right now. If your condition deteriorates any further, even a donor cornea won’t be viable for transplant.” I smiled silently. If donor corneas were that easy to come by, Arthur wouldn’t have been plotting to steal my remaining one in our past life. But wasn’t this exactly what he wanted? In this life, at the very least, he would never have to look at my face again. 3 Arthur’s father exhausted every connection searching for a cornea but failed repeatedly. His hair turned white in a matter of days. Unable to accept the reality of his blindness, Arthur radiated a toxic, volatile anger. Within three days of his hospitalization, the stress caused Aunt Sarah’s blood pressure to spike so severely that she ended up admitted to the hospital herself. I actively avoided Arthur, which earned me a harsh lecture from my parents. “Hazel, our families have always been close. You have to step up and help out right now.” Unable to find a valid excuse, I finally went to see him. The moment I stepped into his room, Arthur turned his head toward the door. “Is that you, Hazel?” I was slightly surprised, but then heard him let out a self-deprecating laugh. “I recognized your footsteps.” “Why haven’t you come to visit me? Do I look like a monster now?” I sat down a safe distance from his bed and replied coolly, “I’ve been too busy lately. Couldn’t find the time.” The ten years of unrequited love had been thoroughly incinerated by the psychological torture of our marriage in my past life. In this life, I was finally thinking clearly. Arthur was right. We were just neighbors. He seemed to be waiting for me to comfort him. When I remained silent, he started blindly reaching around his bed for his phone. After struggling to find it, he thrust it toward the opposite side of the bed, speaking to empty air. “Check if Chloe has called me.” “I can’t even unlock my screen. She must be terrified that she hasn’t heard from me in days.” I sighed in exasperation. “I’m over here.” Arthur froze, a flash of humiliating defeat crossing his face. I took the phone and checked. Zero missed calls. I opened his texts. Their last conversation was from days ago. I glanced at him. Driven by a morbid curiosity to understand why he blamed me for his accident in my past life, I opened the chat log. “Arthur! My mom said if we’re getting married, the dowry has to be a shopping mall. This is non-negotiable.” “Your family is loaded, giving up two malls is nothing to you. If you’re not willing to show your commitment, we’re breaking up.” Arthur’s replies were incredibly subservient. “Let’s just talk this through, okay? I promise I’ll discuss it with my parents.” Chloe responded with a photo of a high-speed train ticket departing in thirty minutes. “Then come find me when you’ve discussed it with them.” Arthur begged her not to leave. Finally, she relented, but issued an ultimatum: he had exactly ten minutes to get to the station. Reading the texts, I couldn’t help but sneer in disgust. They got into a fight over a dowry extortion attempt, which had absolutely nothing to do with me. Yet in my past life, simply because I was kind enough to donate my cornea to him, he projected all his rage and resentment onto me? “Well? Did she text me?” Arthur asked anxiously. I shook my head and placed the phone on his lap. “No.” “Impossible!” He blindly fumbled with the phone, trying to hand it back to me. “Is it dead?” “Or maybe it broke in the crash, and it’s not receiving messages?” “Hazel, go buy me a new phone, please?” Watching his desperate panic, a spark of vindictive satisfaction flared in my chest. I spoke with deliberate, retaliatory cruelty: “Chloe hasn’t contacted you. Not a single time.” 4 From that day forward, Arthur made me check his unread messages every single day. As the days passed, his panic became palpable. “It’s been so long. Why isn’t she contacting me?” “Do you think something happened to her?” I just stared at him with zero expression. But then he suddenly demanded, “Call her for me.” The second the call connected, Arthur’s eyes widened with hope. It was the first time he had smiled in days. “Chloe…” The voice on the other end was icy. “Why are you calling me? I told you I’d only wait ten minutes, and you never showed.” “I figured that meant you agreed to break up. Stop bothering me.” Arthur frantically tried to explain, “I’m sorry, Chloe! Don’t hang up!” “I… I didn’t mean to be late, and I definitely don’t want to break up! It’s just… I got into a car accident. I’ve been in the hospital.” I stood up and walked out of the room, terrified that if she rejected him, he’d somehow find a way to blame me again. But witnessing his subservient, pathetic groveling made me finally realize: he truly did not love me. We grew up together, and I had never seen Arthur act this pathetic before. When Aunt Sarah arrived, I tracked down his attending physician. If the crash was so severe, why was the rest of his body only mildly bruised, while his eyes took the absolute worst of the impact? The doctor looked sympathetic but resigned. “When the paramedics found him, his face was covered in blood.” “It turns out he had glued raised, hard plastic bedazzled decorations onto the steering wheel logo. When the airbag deployed, it essentially launched those hard objects directly into his eyes.” “It’s a tragic shame…” I raised an eyebrow and walked back home, the puzzle finally pieced together. In my past life, my entire heart was devoted to Arthur. It wasn’t until the moments before my death, reviewing my life, that I realized how spectacularly I had ruined a winning hand. This time, I took two-thirds of my life savings and bought physical gold bars. My mother looked at me suspiciously. “Are you opening a jewelry store?” I smiled brightly and shook my head. “Just an investment for the future!” That night, my father came home looking miserable. He sighed heavily at the dinner table, his eyes constantly darting toward me. “There are simply no donor corneas available. I’m afraid Arthur might…” I met my father’s gaze steadily. “You did everything you could. Even if they never find one, his family won’t blame you.” Both my parents snapped their heads toward me, probing cautiously. “I’m just worried you won’t be able to handle it.” “We know you and Arthur have been incredibly close since childhood, and as you got older…” “If you’re absolutely determined to stay with him, your mother and I won’t oppose it.” Hearing the implication behind their words, I set down my chopsticks, my expression deadly serious. “Mom. Dad.” “I don’t like Arthur anymore.” “It’s not because he’s blind. It’s because he already has a girlfriend. He’s not the right person for me. We’re just casual friends. Neighbors.” “Please, never bring this up again.” My parents looked stunned for a moment, but quickly nodded in agreement. “Hazel, don’t worry. Whatever you choose, we support you 100%.”

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