Author: Momo Chan

After dinner, I sat in Ryan’s lap, his chin resting on the crook of my neck. Suddenly, he said, “Honey, why do you feel so tiny?” I froze. While I was 5’3″ and Ryan was 6’2″, we’d been together for six whole years. How could he not be used to my size? I playfully retorted, “What, after six years, you’re just now noticing I’m ‘tiny’?” Ryan realized his slip, pretending nothing happened by lifting me and kissing me fiercely against the wall. After the kiss, he coaxed me in an intimate tone: “How could I, honey?” “I love that feeling of being able to wrap my arms completely around your petite frame.” That night, Ryan tirelessly pinned me to the bed, with a hint of punishment in his touch. Even my sister, when she brought me gifts from abroad the next day, teased: “Tsk tsk, Ryan really isn’t afraid of breaking your delicate little body.” But I just held her hand and said, “Sis, I need to call off the wedding with Ryan.” 1 “Ann, could it be a misunderstanding?” My sister took the lunch delivery from the door, arranging the containers one by one: “Look, for six years, Ryan has consistently made sure your life is perfectly arranged.” “Even Mom and Dad say he’s spoiled you like a princess.” “He’s a decisive, no-nonsense executive outside, but at home, he’s your loyal golden retriever.” I clutched the cartoon blanket tighter around me, saying nothing. Even this blanket, Ryan had waited in line for three hours at Disney to buy for me. Sometimes I’d feel I was too much of a princess, but he’d just smile and say, “Ann is a treasure sent by heaven out of pity for me.” “Aren’t treasures meant to be spoiled?” Just then, Ryan’s exclusive ringtone sounded. As soon as I answered, his urgent voice came through: “Honey, the chef put shrimp paste in today’s pasta. Don’t eat it.” “I just saw the new menu details.” “Either give it to your sister or throw it away~ Hubby will take you out for something delicious tonight, okay?” Listening to his usual tender instructions, a wave of bitterness surged. My throat felt like it was stuffed with cotton. I mumbled, “Okay.” After the call, my sister, with a teasing look, pulled the pasta toward herself. “Your husband certainly remembers everything, even checking again after ordering takeout.” “You’re telling me this Ryan cheated? I don’t believe it.” I remained silent, my heart a mix of emotions. Ever since I had that mild seafood allergy and broke out in a rash. Ryan was so worried he didn’t close his eyes all night, staying with me as I got an IV drip. His eyes were red: “Honey, I’ll absolutely check your food carefully from now on.” Now, he certainly kept that promise. But the next second, the last takeout box “snapped” open. Inside was a steamed egg, generously sprinkled with chopped scallions. My hand froze. “Huh? ‘Steamed egg with extra scallions: My wife likes it.’ Ann, don’t you hate scallions in steamed eggs?” My sister, holding the order slip, saw my expression. Her face also began to grow serious. “So, he really has another wife out there?” Meticulous as Ryan was, he had never given me even one steamed egg with scallions. Combined with what Ryan said last night. I sat numbly on the sofa, an unnamed bitterness creeping through my entire body. After a long while, I finally managed a self-deprecating smile. “Yes. Ryan, he definitely cheated.” My fiancé, not only hugged other women, but also meticulously ordered meals for her. These things used to be exclusively mine. So, that woman is tall and loves scallions, is that it? I decisively grabbed my car keys and walked out. “Sis, I’m going to Ryan’s company.” I wanted to see what kind of woman could steal the Ryan who had loved me for six years. 2 I had considered countless possibilities. The woman could be a secretary looking to climb the ladder, a pure and innocent intern, or even some social climber trying to hook into the Sterling family. But none of them were true. Ryan had been on set recently, shooting a company promotional video. When I stormed in, I only needed one glance at the woman. And just like that, I completely felt that Ryan and I were truly over. Ms. Evelyn Grant, 5’9″, with wavy hair. She was the female model for the promotional video. To be precise, she was a disabled female model. Her left calf was fitted with a prosthetic leg. And Ryan’s deceased mother was also a disabled woman. Being an illegitimate son in the Sterling family, with a disabled mother, made his position precarious among his many siblings. The most frequent insult he heard as a child was: “Your mother is disabled, and you’re a cripple too!” “Why should a person with physical deficiencies give birth to a child who competes with us?” His mother was not favored, and her child suffered greatly because of her. She eventually succumbed to depression, leaping from a 30-story building. Ryan once hated her for it: “If she was so fragile, she shouldn’t have impulsively given birth to me.” “Sometimes I feel that disabled people shouldn’t have children.” “They are destined to bear more burdens than ordinary people, and so are their children.” But now, he had fallen in love with a woman who was also disabled. A man who had clearly suffered such profound pain, yet still uncontrollably fell in love. The tumultuous story behind it, even imagining it, felt like a thousand tiny needles piercing me. When I walked over, Ryan was surprised: “Ann, what are you doing here?” My gaze met Evelyn’s, who was also sizing me up. “Just dropping by.” To my surprise, Evelyn spoke up confidently: “This must be Mr. Sterling’s fiancée, Ms. Grant, right?” “Hearing about you doesn’t do you justice; you truly are a rare beauty. It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Evelyn Grant, the main model for this promotional video.” I realized, apart from that prosthetic limb. Evelyn was so sunny, confident, radiant, no different from an ordinary person. So, is it because of this, Ryan? Ryan avoided my gaze, looking somewhat agitated. Evelyn, wearing 4-inch heels, looked down at me. Her tone sounded wistful: “I truly envy Ms. Grant’s height. You look so delicate and charming.” “Unlike me, I’m a tall girl.” I looked at her, almost standing shoulder to shoulder with 6’2″ Ryan, and didn’t miss a hint of provocation in her eyes. I smiled, said nothing, and went straight to Ryan’s exclusive seat, crossing my arms. “You guys carry on with the shoot. I just came to watch.” But during the shoot, something unexpected happened. The male model, who only needed to embrace Evelyn in the final scene, suddenly lost control, forcing a kiss on her. He roughly caressed her, howling, “Why are you playing hard to get? I like you so much, why can’t you be with me!” “Ah!” In a few seconds, Evelyn’s clothing was torn. A flash in my peripheral vision, and Ryan had already rushed over. He yanked the man up, landing a fierce punch that immediately drew blood. Everyone hastily pulled Evelyn away, wrapping a trembling blanket around her. Ryan’s eyes were bloodshot, ignoring the man’s pleas, “Stop, stop! I’m sorry!” “Thump! Thump! Thump!” Dull thuds echoed through the set. The man exuded a fierce aura, like an enraged lion. I had only seen him like this once before, that year when I protected him and other members of the Sterling family severely injured me with rocks. His knuckles were turning red, the male model’s breathing grew weaker. But Ryan’s punches were more violent with each strike. I couldn’t stand it anymore and rushed forward to pull him back: “Ryan, that’s enough!” 3 “Get lost! He deserves to die!” Ryan didn’t see clearly and waved me away. By the time he realized, I had already fallen heavily to the ground. Both my palms were scraped raw. “Ann!” Ryan finally released the male model and hastily helped me up. I took a deep breath, a pang of sourness in my nose. The grit and dust of small stones pressing into my palms seemed to settle in my heart. He tried to help me to the side, but stopped abruptly when he heard Evelyn’s soft sobs. Ryan clenched his fist, as if having made a decision. He said, “Ann, I’ll accompany the model to the hospital for a check-up first. Then we’ll wait for the police to file a report.” His eyes kept darting towards Evelyn. As if he was about to rush over to her any second. Instantly, the stinging in my palms spread densely to my heart. Finally, I couldn’t help but ask him, “Ryan, I’m hurt too.” “There are so many other people below; do you really need to handle this personally?” “You even got into such a big fight over it. Do you know you represent the entire Sterling family!” No one knew better than I how difficult it had been for Ryan to get to this point. Over the years, his every move had been cautious. But look at him now: A bloody scratch on his face, damp strands of hair plastered to his temples from anger, the lingering redness in the corners of his eyes. This was no longer the composed Mr. Sterling I knew. I practically roared, my chest heaving violently. It drew frequent glances from the staff. My fiancé, the man I’d loved for six years, was now so concerned about another woman. How could I not be angry, how could I not hate! But Ryan just let out a heavy sigh, his voice weary: “Ann, you need to understand, this is sexual assault.” “Evelyn was harmed while working, and as her boss, I can’t leave.” “This isn’t a small matter.” He looked at me with a warning in his eyes. At this point, what more was there to say? My shoulders slumped. I watched him rush to that woman with a look of relief. He murmured soft words of concern. When my sister came to pick me up, that’s how lost and distraught she found me. As soon as the car drove away from the set, my phone’s notifications exploded. The hashtag #SterlingCEOBeatsUpAssaulterOnSet was prominently displayed. Clicking on it, all I saw were high-definition photos of Ryan protecting Evelyn, throwing punches, and finally, carefully wrapping his jacket around her. The comment section was boiling: [Mr. Sterling is so manly! So responsible!] [The boss personally steps in to protect an employee, overflowing with a sense of security!] [Am I the only one who thinks Mr. Sterling and the model sister are a perfect match?] [Both are tall and have great figures, they could be on a magazine cover with just a change of clothes.] [Business mogul × beautiful, strong, and tragic disabled model, I’m absolutely obsessed!] [Get married, get married on the spot!] My fingertips scrolled coldly over those glaring “perfect match” comments. An inconspicuous comment included a screenshot: [Link to @Evelyn’sSecretGarden for a surprise!] On a whim, I clicked it. It was a newly registered anonymous account, not much content. The latest post was yesterday: [He praised my bravery today.] The accompanying picture showed a bony, well-defined hand offering a hot drink. The watch on that wrist was clearly the birthday gift I had bought for Ryan last year, bidding $8.88 million for it at an auction. It even had our names engraved on it. Scrolling further back: [Rehab is painful, but thinking of him saying ‘imperfection is also beauty,’ I found strength again.] The accompanying picture showed a man applying prosthetic care oil to her, an intimate gesture. Next to it was a hand cream, the woody scent I had specifically bought for him. My heart felt like it was gripped by an icy hand, the suffocating sensation magnified infinitely. All that tenderness and consideration, it had silently seeped into another person. Late at night, a sound came from the entryway. Ryan paused when he saw me: “Ann? Why are the lights off?” I held up my phone, the screen light illuminating my pale face. “Ryan, explain yourself.” “This ‘Evelyn’s Secret Garden,’ whose story does it tell, yours and whose?” 4 Ryan’s face stiffened. He strode closer, his voice taut: “Ann, it’s not what you think.” I abruptly pulled my hand back, my smile strained. “Not what?” I pointed at the photos. “The watch, the cufflinks, the hand cream – they’re all things I gave you! You’re using my things and telling another woman ‘imperfection is also beauty’?” Bitterness welled up in my eyes, which I fiercely held back. He crouched down to my eye level, his gaze gentle and pleading: “Evelyn was startled. She’s disabled, she’s been through a lot of pain. I’m just showing concern and encouragement as her boss. Those words were to comfort her, not to make her feel inferior.” He tried to touch me, but I pulled away. “Concern to the point of personally giving her hot drinks, applying her prosthetic oil, praising her bravery?” My voice trembled. “That comment about me being tiny, were you comparing me to her then too? How disgusting!” “Ann!” Ryan’s voice abruptly rose, filled with anguish. “I never thought that! You are unique!” He took a deep breath, his tone humble, “Honey, I admit I felt more sympathy for her. She reminded me of my mother… but I swear, I never crossed the line! Don’t you know where my heart lies?” I bit my lip, silent, tears silently streaming down. He hated it when I cried, his expression stung. He finally got up and brought over a heavy wooden box. “I intended to give it to you at the wedding.” He knelt on one knee and opened it. Inside wasn’t jewelry, but many smooth, warm small wooden carvings: little rabbits, deer, pavilions, spires… “Do you remember your grandfather always used little wooden carvings to coax you,” he picked them up one by one, recounting their stories. “This panda is the one you said you wanted in Chengdu; this conch is the one you picked up in Sanya…” There were 52 in total, corresponding to places he traveled for business and places we visited, holding all my casually mentioned preferences. “You said when your grandfather passed, no one would coax you with woodwork anymore.” He looked up, his eyes reflecting my tears, and solemnly said: “Ann, your grandfather isn’t here anymore, but I will stay here, using the ways he once made you happy, to continue loving you.” This gesture fiercely struck my crumbling defenses. He actually remembered everything. I wavered. Could Evelyn really just be a projection of his mother to him? Finally, I nodded: “Ryan, I believe you, but you have to promise me. No more contact with Evelyn outside of work.” Ryan hugged me tightly: “Okay, I promise you, honey. I swear.” He kissed away my tears repeatedly, gently coaxing me. That night, I messaged my sister: [Sis, I’ve decided to trust Ryan one more time.] Ryan truly kept his promise, not only publicly clarifying: [Ms. Evelyn Grant and I do not have the relationship speculated. My wedding with my fiancée will be held in three days, and I hope for everyone’s blessings~] The accompanying picture was of him and me, fingers intertwined. The comments section was filled with blessings; those match-making, shipping comments were gone. He even completely delegated future promotional video work to his subordinates. From then on, Evelyn completely vanished from our lives. I thought everything would return to normal. Until the night before the wedding, when I needed to use the study computer. I accidentally saw a folder deep within the files named “EH.” Instinctively, I thought of Evelyn Grant. My lips even trembled. It was an encrypted file. I tried my birthday and his, both were wrong. Ryan was someone who didn’t like complicated passwords. Evelyn’s first tweet on her private account flashed through my mind: [June 28th, my first encounter with him.] 0628. “Dingdong” password correct. My heart plummeted. Inside, there was actually a video. My lover of six years, intimately entangled with Evelyn. The dialogue pierced my ears like venomous snakes: [Ryan, why are you recording this?] [Evelyn, don’t you like it? I’ll treasure this video; Ann doesn’t even get this kind of treatment.] [Only you, Evelyn. Only you. I love you.] I fiercely covered my mouth, a surge of tears welling up, which I forcefully suppressed. Ann, this is the last time you’ll cry for Ryan. That night, Ryan returned from his business dinner, smelling of wine, and collapsed onto me: “Ann, we’re getting married tomorrow. I’m so happy.” “I love you so much, Ann.” But I just stared at him, my fingers unhesitatingly sending that text message: [Sister, please add a little surprise to the wedding tomorrow.] The next day, the wedding venue was dreamlike and dazzling, making my eyes burn with happiness. Relatives greeted each other, their faces full of smiles. Ryan embraced me, emotionally, “Ann, I finally, finally married you. I’m so happy.” I secretly let out a cold laugh. What a pity, it was all just a false illusion. The wedding photos on the big screen suddenly stopped, then abruptly went black. Ryan looked puzzled: “What’s wrong with the screen? I’ll go ask.” However, the next second, the screen flashed with intimate scenes of Ryan and Evelyn intertwined, high-definition and uncensored. The woman’s seductive cries reached everyone’s ears, and that line: [Ryan, I love you so much.]

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1 After three years abroad, I finished my studies just before the holidays. I chartered an overnight flight home to surprise my parents. Instead of calling them, I dragged my suitcase, eager to see their faces. But when I reached my old home, I froze. The grand villa was gone—replaced by a shabby mud shack, its windows patched with paper. The swimming pool had become a smelly pigsty, and our champion Golden Retriever was now a scruffy, flea-covered mutt. For a moment, I thought I’d taken a wrong turn. Then Mom appeared, tanned and carrying pig feed on her shoulder. She stared at me. “Well, look who’s back!” I rushed to ask why she hadn’t told me we’d gone bankrupt. She gave me a blank look. “Studying abroad made you daft, did it? Bankrupt? When were we ever rich?” “Your dad earns barely three dollars for a hundred pounds of pig feed! A year’s work only brings in three thousand! Now that you’re home, you better help, or we’ll starve this holiday!” My jaw dropped. If we’d always been poor, then who bought me all those limited-edition luxury goods? … “What happened to our villa that used to be here? And the swimming pool? And Buster? Our big Golden Retriever!” I’d video-chatted with Mom just a few days ago, and Buster had been right there by her feet! Mom flinched, then spat right on my face. “Villa? Swimming pool? Golden Retriever? Your father’s always been a pathetic excuse for a man. Marrying him was the worst mistake of my life; I’ll never amount to anything!” “And you—” Mom’s eyes raked over me, then she rolled them. “Dressed to the nines, looking like you’re too good for us just because you’ve seen a bit of the world?” “You’ll still end up shoveling pig waste with me!” I stood there, completely numb. My home was gone, and Mom… she was a stranger. My mother, famous in the socialite circles for her impeccable cleanliness and demanding tastes, who insisted everything she touched be screened and disinfected by her staff, was now unrecognizable. Where was the elegant, refined woman I remembered? Had the shock of losing everything caused her to have a breakdown? It couldn’t be! Just as I was about to call Dad to get to the bottom of this, a worn-out middle-aged man hobbled out of the mud shack. His face was identical to Dad’s, but ravaged by time and hardship. “Dad, you’ve changed too—” My gaze dropped, and the words caught in my throat. His right leg was gone, just an empty space below the knee. Dad had been golfing with friends last week when we video-chatted. How could he have ended up like this? Trembling, I knelt and pulled up his pant leg. Gnarly scars crisscrossed his thigh, ending in a distinct amputation site. My voice was barely a whisper. “Dad, what happened to us?” A thousand possibilities flashed through my mind. Our family business was vast; had some formidable enemy driven us to this desperate state? Mom slapped me across the face. “You come home and start asking all these ridiculous questions! Your father’s been a good-for-nothing his whole life. Ten years ago, he got his leg cut off for stealing pork fat and didn’t even dare utter a word!” My face stung, but I felt no pain. Mom had never laid a hand on me since the day I was born! Something was definitely wrong here! I quickly pulled out a video of us surfing at the beach last year. I pointed at the screen, showing it to Mom. “A year ago, Dad’s leg was perfectly fine—” Mom’s eyes flickered across the screen for just a second, then she exploded, pointing at me. “You slut! Wearing so little, trying to tempt your own father, are you?” “I sent you to school, worked myself ragged, and this is what you learn to bring home?” It was a swimsuit! She’d bought it for me herself! Had she forgotten? Mom was now a complete shrew! What on earth had happened to our family? Why had she become like this? Almost fleeing, I stumbled out of the house and turned into the convenience store across the street. There, I bumped into my younger brother, Caleb, his hair dyed bright yellow, arms draped around two gaudily dressed girls. Caleb stared at me, dumbfounded. “Elara? You’re back?” Like a drowning person finding a lifeline, I clutched at him. “Caleb, tell me, what happened to our family? Why are Mom and Dad like this?” But then, Caleb’s expression turned strange. A chill crept down my spine. He said, “Our family has always been like this.” “Have you been away so long you’ve forgotten, Elara?” He gestured vaguely towards our house. “That mud hut, Mom built it the year she got married. And that pigsty, Mom fenced it in. Even our three hundred dollar monthly income depends on Mom.” “And me, your brother. I never went to school, never learned to read. Not like you, who got to see the world after finishing high school!” For a moment, my mind reeled. What did he mean he never went to school or learned to read? And what was with that bitter, resentful tone? He had won the national math competition three years in a row by his freshman year of high school! During the awards ceremony, he’d even given me his trophy, saying it was a gift for me. I still had the award video on my phone. But now, when I opened my gallery, I couldn’t find it anywhere. Even the video I’d shown Mom just moments ago had vanished. I frantically tapped on my chat history with Mom and Dad, only to find their profile pictures grayed out. A creeping coldness slowly ascended my spine. I felt as if I’d stepped into the Truman Show. Why? Was there some catalyst? Or was it just our family that had changed this way? But I’d lived in that house for twenty-five years! And from the moment I stepped off the plane until now, I’d been perfectly lucid. Nothing unusual had happened on the way. I desperately replayed every moment in my mind, feeling like I’d missed something crucial. Suddenly, a message from my best friend popped up. “Elara, I’m almost there! I’ve got a surprise for you!” In an instant, my heart settled. My best friend, Maya, was the daughter of the wealthiest man in the city. We’d met seven years ago at a party thrown by our parents and instantly clicked. We even planned to go to college together, and we’d stayed in close contact even when I went abroad. As soon as I told her I was coming home, Maya declared she’d spend the holidays with me! As soon as she arrived, it would prove my memories were right! They were definitely up to something! Watching the shared location with Maya get closer and closer, my heart quickened. Then, I saw a tricycle approaching. Maya was on it, her clothes old and baggy. She dismounted clumsily. A bad feeling coiled in my stomach. Only when Maya stood before me, greeting me, did I notice how swollen she looked. I forced down the strange sensation in my chest, about to ask her, when Maya, looking slightly smug, lifted her shirt. Her enormous belly swayed precariously with her movements, covered in red veins and stretch marks. “Elara, look. I’m married.” “Quintuplets, four boys. Surprise?” My worldview shattered again. Maya, my best friend with whom I shared everything, was a staunch DINK (dual income, no kids). She’d never even gone to one of the arranged marriages her father tried to set up, always causing a huge fuss. She’d even gone on a hunger strike to make her father give up on the idea of her marrying. My legs felt like jelly. Dad was a pathetic man. Mom was a shrew. My brother was a yellow-haired hooligan. And now, my long-unseen best friend was pregnant with quadruplets. Everyone seemed to be moving in the opposite direction of my memories! It was all wrong, everything was reversed! I was absolutely certain now. I was in another world! I no longer cared why this was happening. All I wanted to do was one thing: I wanted to go home! But my hand was gripped tight. Maya’s strength was incredible, pulling my hand towards her pregnant belly. “Elara, where are you going? Didn’t we say we’d spend the holidays together?” “Don’t you want to see my babies? Didn’t you say you’d be their favorite aunt?” My fingertips trembled. When had I ever said that? But when my palm actually touched Maya’s belly, the babies inside seemed to sense it, kicking me gently. That kick shattered the last sliver of hope in my heart. It was real! I almost spun and ran, my legs so weak I could barely stand. Run away, just run away! It felt like I was the only anomaly in the world. I needed to go home! Seeing I was actually trying to flee, Mom’s face contorted with fury as she chased after me. I cried out in panic, “I’m not your daughter! You’ve got the wrong person!” “I’d recognize you even if you were ashes! You go out and see the world, and now you’re too good for us? Get back here! I’ll sell you to the old beggar by the village entrance!” My best friend, Maya, also called out to me, clutching her pregnant belly. “Elara! Didn’t we say we’d spend the holidays together? Why are you running? Come back!” I bit down hard on my tongue, forcing myself to stay clear-headed. Then, a sharp pain shot through the back of my head. My brother had caught up and struck me hard with a stick. As I lost consciousness, I saw a flicker of sorrow and reluctance in his eyes. He said, “Elara, just bear with it. We’re doing this for your own good.”

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My wife was rarely home, preferring to be out and about with her “male best friend.” My daughter and I barely saw her a few times a year. Then, a few days ago, my wife and her male best friend were in a car accident while on a road trip. The doctor called, saying they needed two hundred thousand dollars for surgery, or she’d lose both her hands. Hearing the news, the corners of my mouth curled into a smile wider than an M16, but I forced myself to suppress it. With feigned sorrow, I told the doctor: “Doctor, when you use the saw, please remember the anesthetic. She’s afraid of pain.” … My wife, Lillian, was an artist. In pursuit of her so-called inspiration, she abandoned our daughter and our home, spending her days on road trips with her male best friend. The last time my daughter and I saw her was six months ago. After getting the doctor’s call, I quickly picked up our daughter, Tina, from kindergarten. Limping, I made my way to my mother-in-law’s house, stating directly that Lillian had been in a car accident and needed two hundred thousand dollars for life-saving surgery. But my mother-in-law didn’t even glance at me. She was busy playing cards with her neighbors, wetting her finger to separate her hand. “Call the Ace!” Then she squinted at me. “Who are you trying to fool? If my daughter was in trouble, why didn’t I get a call? Humph! I bet you, you useless cripple, are just trying to swindle my money!” “Forget two hundred thousand, I wouldn’t give you twenty dollars!” “Get out!” My mother-in-law glared at me contemptuously, utterly unconvinced. Her card partners chimed in, their voices dripping with sarcasm. “Tsk, tsk, a grown man bringing his child to trick his mother-in-law out of money? Aren’t you ashamed?” “What a pity, a brilliant girl like Lillian marrying a cripple…” Those words struck a nerve with my mother-in-law. She slammed her hand down on the table, stood up abruptly, and glared at me, spitting venom. “Arthur! You good-for-nothing cripple, get out of my house!” This scared Tina, who shrunk behind me, timidly saying, “Daddy, Tina’s scared…” I knelt to comfort my daughter, then told my mother-in-law, “I’m sorry, Mom, I might have received a scam call. You know, I care about Lillian too much…” “Get out!” My mother-in-law cursed. In her eyes, with my injured leg, I was never worthy of her daughter. She disliked Tina too, by extension. I took Tina home and settled her in, then slowly made my way to the hospital. Walking into the ward, seeing my wife, Lillian, and her male best friend, both covered in blood, lying on separate beds, my lips fought a battle to remain straight. Under the watchful eyes of the doctors and nurses, I collapsed beside her bed, grasping her hand, feigning utter despair. “Oh, the tragedy!” “You’ve been on so many trips with your male best friend without incident, why a car accident this time…?” “Doctor, can both her hands be saved? Is the surgery risky?” The doctor shook his head. “You arrived too late; the optimal time for treatment has passed. Her hands cannot be saved; now we can only save her life. Please sign the consent form and pay a portion of the surgical fee first!” I struggled to suppress my grin, putting on a distressed expression. “I don’t have any money. All the family’s money is managed by my wife. I tried to borrow from my mother-in-law, but she said it was a scam…” With that, I called my mother-in-law right in front of the doctor. “Mom, I’ve confirmed at the hospital, it’s not a scam call. Lillian really was in a car accident…” “Grand Slam!” My mother-in-law’s voice blared from the phone. “You useless cripple! Still trying to trick me out of money, are you? No chance!” I put it on speaker, and the doctors and nurses heard every word clearly. The doctor couldn’t help but say, “Hello, ma’am, I am your daughter’s surgeon. Your son-in-law is telling the truth…” “Get lost, no one is going to trick me!” My mother-in-law wouldn’t listen, cursing before hanging up. I put my phone away and said to the doctor, “Please save her first, I promise I will pay the money.” “What about this person?” The doctor pointed to the male best friend in the next bed. “He’s also seriously injured. We haven’t been able to contact his family yet. If you know them, please reach out.” “He’s my wife’s male best friend, really just her lover. I don’t know him, and I certainly don’t know his family.” I sighed helplessly. The doctors and nurses exchanged pitying glances. In a flash, Lillian was wheeled into surgery. I took out my phone, opened my messaging app, and sent a photo of Lillian being wheeled into the operating room to my father-in-law, with a message: “Dad, Lillian was in a car accident. The doctors say she might lose both her hands.” After sending the message, I turned off my phone and waited quietly. About an hour later, my father-in-law arrived. The first thing he asked was about Lillian’s condition. I shook my head, sighing, “The doctors said I arrived too late, both her hands couldn’t be saved…” “Why didn’t you come sooner!” My father-in-law exploded in rage, grabbing my collar and yelling, “You useless man! If anything happens to Lillian, I’ll never forgive you!” I calmly replied, “Dad, you can’t blame me. Lillian took all the money from when I sold my company. I had no money for the fees. I went to Mom for money, but she didn’t believe me, insisting it was a scam.” Just then, the operating room doors opened, and Lillian was wheeled out. My father-in-law rushed forward, his face turning ashen when he saw both of her sleeves hanging limply, empty inside. “What happened to my daughter…? Doctor! Where are her hands?” “My daughter is an artist, she can’t live without her hands, please, you must find a way…” The doctor merely shook his head, saying nothing. Just then, my mother-in-law, arriving late, rushed in. “Lillian, how is she…?” “Where are her hands? Doctor… where are my daughter’s hands?” Seeing her daughter without arms, my mother-in-law, like a madwoman, grabbed the doctor’s hand, shouting and making a scene. I understood their feelings at this moment. Ever since I sold my company and became a stay-at-home dad, Lillian had been their sole financial security. Her paintings were bestsellers, and she was quite famous, the pride and joy of my in-laws. Now that Lillian had lost both her arms, she couldn’t provide for them, becoming a burden instead. How could they not be emotional? “Please calm down. Lillian just finished surgery and needs rest,” I advised. My mother-in-law whirled around, glaring at me with malice. “Lillian is in this state all because she married you, you useless cripple!” My father-in-law chimed in, “You deliberately delayed, causing Lillian to lose her hands. I’m calling the police on you!” “Mom, you can’t just say things like that. When I got the hospital’s call, I immediately went to you.” I calmly pulled out my phone and played three recordings: “Call the Ace…” “Grand Slam!” “I am your daughter’s surgeon…” My father-in-law’s face immediately changed. He turned and glared at my mother-in-law. “You useless cripple, you set me up!” My mother-in-law was furious, grabbing my clothes, ready to hit me. “Mom, you can’t speak against your conscience.” I pushed her away, held up two fingers, and said innocently, “I came to you twice. The first time you said it was a scam. The second time, I personally came to the hospital to confirm, and the doctor even spoke to you, but you still didn’t believe it. Can you blame me?” Two female nurses nearby couldn’t help but interject: “I heard it all. She cared more about her card game than her own daughter’s life.” “That’s absolutely outrageous. What right does she have to blame her son-in-law…?” “To have a mother like that, it’s truly a tragedy!” My mother-in-law, flushed with anger, pointed at them and yelled, “Say one more word, and I’ll rip your mouths off!” “Mom… I’m in so much pain…” Lillian’s weak voice suddenly broke through; she was awake. “My poor daughter…” My mother-in-law held Lillian’s hand, wiping a tear, then pointed at me and began to curse. “It’s all your fault, you useless cripple! You couldn’t provide for her, so my daughter had to drive around to support the family, and that’s why she got into an accident!” I retorted, “You can’t say that. The twenty million dollars I got from selling my company was all in Lillian’s hands; it was more than enough.” “Twenty million, is that a lot? Don’t you understand what it means to live beyond your means?” My mother-in-law scoffed, “My daughter is constantly improving, her reputation growing. A mere twenty million? She could earn that by painting a few more pictures. And you? What do you do besides leech off her?” I said, “When she became a disciple of Master Chen, I arranged it. The five million dollar apprenticeship fee was also paid by me.” “Enough!” Lillian interrupted anxiously. “The accident… How is Adam?” “Who is Adam?” My mother-in-law asked, confused. I quickly explained, “That’s the male best friend she’s always with, her lover. Adam has been with her all these years. The reason for this accident was that Adam made… inappropriate gestures towards her while driving.” “What ‘always with her’? What are you talking about?!” My mother-in-law trembled with rage. I said, “The security cameras captured it, the traffic police told me.” “It’s too loud!” Lillian tried to sit up. “I need to see Adam…” It was then she realized her hands were gone. Lillian froze, then let out a heart-wrenching scream. “My hands… Where are my hands?!” She thrashed her legs like a madwoman, screaming and shouting. My mother-in-law tried to comfort her, but was kicked twice, her face turning red and swollen on one side. “You’re the one who ruined me!” Lillian’s eyes were bloodshot, glaring at me with venom. “It’s him!” My mother-in-law also cursed, “This useless cripple did it on purpose!” I shook my head. “I rushed here as soon as I got the call, but I couldn’t pay for the surgery. I went to Mom to borrow money, but she insisted it was a scam. See, the recording’s right here.” I played the recording from before. “Call the Ace…” “Grand Slam!” “I am your daughter’s surgeon…” Hearing the recording, Lillian’s eyes widened in fury, glaring at her mother with gritted teeth. So consumed by playing cards, she didn’t care about her daughter’s life—it was utterly heartless! If not for her addiction to cards, she wouldn’t have lost her hands! “Oh, my dearest daughter, how could Mom ever harm you…?” Seeing the situation turning, my mother-in-law immediately tried to justify herself. “You gave me the money back then, telling me to keep it from him, that’s why I didn’t give it to him. You can’t blame me entirely!” “This useless cripple didn’t explain the situation clearly either; it’s all his fault!” My mother-in-law dumped the blame squarely on me. “Shut up!” My father-in-law lost his temper, slapping my mother-in-law’s face. He yelled, “Always playing cards and gambling, hurting yourself and others! Our daughter was ruined because of you!” My mother-in-law, slapped, sat on the floor, wailing.

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“Buy one, get the second half price!” the barista chirped, referring to the coffee. My high-strung boyfriend, Robert Vance, and I were debating flavors when the barista suddenly turned snarky: “Only for couples, sweetie. Mistresses aren’t eligible.” Before I could even process it, Robert had already paid for two coffees. He took my hand and led me out. Seeing my frown, he offered a wry, resigned smile. “It’s just five extra bucks, is it really that big a deal?” I was about to argue when his neighbor gasped: “Robert! Your girlfriend’s been home all afternoon, cooking dinner for you… How could you do this to her?” 1 The moment the words left her mouth, Robert’s apartment door swung open from the inside. A fair-skinned, simply dressed woman, clutching a trash bag, met my gaze. She showed no panic. Casually, she tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear and smiled warmly. “You must be Rachel, right? I’m Cathy.” Then, Cathy shot Robert a playfully chiding look. “You didn’t tell me Rachel was coming to Northwood… Take her inside first. I’ll just take out the trash; I still haven’t made your favorite sweet and sour ribs.” I stared at the scene, feeling utterly bewildered. For a moment, I truly didn’t know who Robert’s girlfriend was supposed to be. I instinctively tugged on Robert’s hand, about to question him. But he let go of my hand. Frowning, his expression grave, he stepped forward and said to Cathy: “Your wrist has been bothering you. Didn’t the doctor say no housework?” Robert didn’t wait for an argument. He took the trash bag from Cathy’s hand and strode into the elevator, leaving me standing there, utterly confused. After a long silence, the neighbor lady offered an awkward laugh. “Oh, so she’s a relative from back home… Heh, I knew it. Cathy, you two are so in love… Robert is such a respectable, upright man, he would never bring a mistress home. My apologies, I misunderstood. I was actually about to defend you.” With that, the neighbor lady hurried off with her groceries into the apartment next door. Cathy made no move to explain. She simply pushed up her glasses, smiled, and opened the door. “It’s quite cold out, come in quickly. You can sit wherever you like for now. I’ll call Robert and tell him to pick up a package at the downstairs post office. Otherwise, he won’t have any soft tissues left.” I stood in the living room, watching Cathy busy herself, clearly acting as the lady of the house. My face set in a cold mask, I spoke: “You know I’m Robert Vance’s girlfriend, right?” 2 Honestly, ever since we were buying coffee, I’d felt a subtle unease. But Robert had remained as aloof and restrained as ever, his expression indifferent, not at all like someone with something to hide. Besides, I didn’t want to cause a public scene. But now, looking at the matching couple’s slippers in Robert’s rental apartment, and the abundance of pink items throughout the room, I couldn’t maintain my composure any longer. “Robert and I have been together for four years, with one year of long-distance. And you, so shamelessly, interjected—” “What are you talking about?” Robert suddenly appeared, cutting me off with a sharp tone. He stood tall and handsome, looking down at me. “Cathy is the ‘study partner’ I told you about, the one I’m preparing for graduate school with. The ‘girlfriend’ story was just a lie we used to fend off unwanted attention for each other. I also benefited from this fake relationship, so how can you be so malicious towards Cathy?” I gripped my palms tightly, trying not to let the tears fall. Cathy offered a helpless smile, gracefully and understandingly diffusing the situation. “Robert, don’t be so harsh on Rachel. She doesn’t know the truth, so it’s natural for her to think that way. Young women, you know, it’s quite normal for them to be a bit emotionally driven in relationships and unconsciously compete. That’s why I told you not to tell her about it. See, she’s upset, isn’t she?” I laughed, a bitter sound. “Aren’t you a woman?” Cathy let out an “Oh?” a flicker of mockery in her eyes. “That’s not what I meant. It’s just, Robert mentioned you went to a regular university and drifted into a typical company right after graduation—” “I just felt that your values aren’t quite the same as ours, you know, those of us who are striving for the top.” She smiled sweetly, offering me a glass of warm water. “Besides, you’re so beautiful and you wear makeup, unlike me, who has no sense of style and only studies. Don’t worry, I’m not interested in marriage; men aren’t part of my life plan. So you don’t need to see me as an imaginary rival.” The glass hung in mid-air. I didn’t take it. After a long moment, the smile on Cathy’s face began to falter. It wasn’t until Robert chuckled, took the glass, and intimately pulled me into his embrace, murmuring tenderly, “There, there, we haven’t seen each other in months, and you’re already a little jealous, huh? The coffee will get cold if you don’t drink it; you can have mine too, okay?” Cathy turned away, a knowing smile on her face, and discreetly entered the kitchen. Robert, meanwhile, slipped his hand under the hem of my white top. “Your favorite six-pack, want to check if it’s up to par?” A firm, warm sensation instantly met my touch. My face flushed. I quickly pulled my hand away, looking up at Robert’s restrained, handsome face. I suddenly remembered that when I first met him, he was as cold as ice to every other woman. Only with me would Robert reveal a different side. He said solemnly, “It’s truly just to ward off unwanted attention, nothing more. We’re long-distance; don’t you have that much trust in me? If you really can’t accept it, then quit that job quickly and come to Northwood to end the long-distance relationship—” “Oh!” I almost forgot the real reason I came to see Robert. I hesitated, “My boss thinks highly of me and plans to—” She planned to transfer me to headquarters, but before I could finish, a scream came from the kitchen. Robert’s expression changed abruptly. “Cathy, what happened?” I watched his tall, broad back as he hurried into the kitchen. Then I looked down at my phone, where my boss’s message read, “What have you decided?” I fell into a contemplative silence. 3 Honestly, the chance to transfer to headquarters was offered to only me and one other male intern from this batch. It was a rare opportunity. But if I transferred, my relationship with Robert would face an even tougher challenge. I couldn’t bear the thought. After all, I had put in a lot of effort to win over this aloof man. As I was agonizing over the decision, my boss sent another message: “I’ll give you three days to think about it.” I sighed in relief, put away my phone, and called out to the kitchen: “What happened? Is everything alright?” 4 I’d heard Robert talk about his “study partner” before. A small-town girl who had only made it this far because of her family’s collective support. Determined, unafraid of hardship or fatigue. So, despite not having a particular fondness for Cathy, seeing her pale and in pain, my heart sank. “Do you need to go to the hospital?” “What else?” Robert’s eyes were cold and merciless. He scooped up the frail Cathy and said indifferently, “Cathy knew you loved sweet and sour pork, so she wanted to make some for you—that’s why she got burned when frying the meat.” “Rachel—” He looked at me, speaking each word distinctly, “Do you know that her dream is to be a doctor? If something happens to Cathy’s hand, then her dream will never be realized.” I stared at Robert in surprise, unable to believe these were words from his usually rational and calm self. “Rachel, I’m so sorry my presence has caused you trouble,” Cathy’s voice trembled, tinged with a cry. “But right now, I need your boyfriend to take me to the hospital. Don’t worry, we only pretend to be a couple in front of outsiders; there’s nothing inappropriate going on. Today is a special circumstance. I never expected the hot oil to splatter when frying the meat… My intention was to…” “It’s not your fault, there’s no need to be so servile.” Robert said, grabbing his phone. “Even if she were a stranger, I’d still take her to the hospital.” He held Cathy in his arms. His face devoid of expression, he looked at me. “Open the door.” I mulled over Robert’s words, feeling a little confused. “It’s not her fault” was implying—was it my fault? 5 After Robert and Cathy left, I stood alone at the door, stunned for a long time. I replied to my boss’s message: “No need to consider. I’m taking the transfer.” When Mrs. Vance called, I was discussing the details with my boss. Her voice was as kind as ever. “Rachel, have you seen Robert?” I mumbled a dull “Mhm,” “Yes, I did.” My heart was heavy with grievances, and for a moment, I didn’t know where to begin. Just as I was about to speak, I heard Mrs. Vance say earnestly: “A few days ago, Robert called me, and he sounded like he had something to say but couldn’t. I knew he had something difficult to talk about. After I pressed him, he finally said he wanted your uncle, Mr. Vance, to pull some strings and get you an introduction to a big company in Northwood…” She sighed, “He sounded quite distressed to me. After all, you’re his first love, and your personalities complement each other so well. Only with you can Robert truly relax and be himself. They’ve been long-distance for so long, I guess he can’t bear it anymore, but he didn’t want to bring it up directly…” My dormant heart instantly rekindled. I nervously confirmed, “Really? I thought—” “Of course! When I said it was no problem, Robert was as happy as could be.” Mrs. Vance was emphatic. “He’s never shown his emotions much since he was a child. It’s the first time I’ve ever seen him like that. So, Rachel, when are you going to resign—” I took a deep breath. “Thank you for Mr. and Mrs. Vance’s kindness, but I don’t have plans to resign for now.” I gently cut her off, my voice soft. “I really like this job. My boss values me highly. I can’t give all of this up for Robert. A big company is great, but it might not suit me.” She seemed surprised that I would refuse. After a long silence on the other end, Mrs. Vance gave an awkward laugh. “You pursued Robert for so long; this is a good opportunity… It’s alright, Rachel, just think about it some more…” I wanted to say “no need to think about it,” but I felt Mrs. Vance was well-meaning. I could only slowly hum a “Mhm.” 6 After the call ended, I stood in the empty room and let out a long breath, preparing to leave. But then I noticed a small gift box on the floor—it must have fallen out of Robert’s pocket in his haste. As if possessed, I stopped and picked it up. Inside were two dazzling diamond rings. DR. Only one can be custom-made in a lifetime. And the buyer was Robert Vance. Connecting this with what Mrs. Vance had just said, a wave of guilt washed over me. So Robert had been thinking about our future. And here I was, about to leave in a huff, without even communicating with him. I calmed down, put on a ring, and prepared to call Robert. But his name popped up on my screen first. I answered, eager to speak. “Robert, you dropped something, didn’t you?” “Mhm.” Robert hadn’t expected me to answer so quickly; he sounded a little surprised, then quickly composed himself. “Cathy’s wound has been treated; it’s not serious. She just needs another dressing change in the morning, then she can leave. I’m sorry, I was too rushed just now.” He paused, his voice hoarse. “Do you have time now to help me—” I looked at the sparkling diamond ring on my ring finger, remembering the happy times with Robert. I answered preemptively, “Yes, I do. I can.” Robert sounded much relieved, chuckling, “That’s good. Cathy’s period started early, and her usual feminine pads are in the bathroom cabinet’s hidden compartment. I didn’t want to trouble you, but Cathy’s alone at the hospital, and I can’t leave her. She also has a weak constitution, so she can’t use just any brand—” Cathy’s voice echoed from the other end. Robert tersely sent me a location, then hung up. My smile was still frozen on my face. My hand remained suspended in mid-air. Only the steady beeping of the dial tone remained in my ear, as if to remind me: The dream is over. 7 After much thought: We are all adults. Ending a relationship should be done face-to-face, out of respect for our four years together. Thirty minutes later, I stood in the emergency room. I spotted Robert and Cathy at once. In the chaotic, bustling environment, they alone seemed untouched by time, serene and out of place. As if sensing something, Robert happened to turn his head, and our eyes met. He looked at me, then at the bag in my hand. With a casual, almost languid gesture, like a mythical seducing sprite, he beckoned to me, his voice soft: “Rachel, how can you be so adorable?” Saying this, Robert raised an eyebrow at Cathy and chuckled. “I told you my girlfriend isn’t petty-minded. See?” Cathy’s face soured for a moment. She offered a perfunctory laugh. As she lowered her gaze, a flicker of malevolence flashed in her eyes. Robert didn’t notice. He was only concerned with taking the items from my hand. The next second, he suddenly noticed the diamond ring on my hand. His expression changed dramatically. “Why did you just take someone else’s things?” Before I could react, he coldly slipped the ring off my finger. “Cathy recently got entangled with a senior, so she spent a long time saving up to buy these rings. It was just to make people believe she had a boyfriend and that they were very much in love. It was to ward off unwanted attention—” Robert’s eyes were cold; he seemed to be forcing himself to calm down, lowering his voice. “I know you’re anxious about the progress of our relationship. But you can’t just take other people’s things.” I looked down, seeing my slightly red finger, and felt my eyes well up. No wonder it had been so hard to put on. I thought I had gained weight, but it turned out… Just as the atmosphere grew tense, Adrian Miller, the male colleague I was being transferred with, called on video. On the other end, he laughed openly and uninhibitedly: “Just two more weeks until we leave. Ms. Davies, when will you be back to hand over your work?” … Thud. The things in Robert’s hand fell to the floor. His eyes darkened, and his voice was hoarse: “Hand over work? Rachel, where are you going?”

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Before my sister left the country, she left me with two male succubi. One acted like a saint all day, the other was as sweet-tongued as honey. I poured my heart out, treating them with every kindness. But the moment my sister announced her return, they started b brawling next door, desperate to go back to her side. They even called me a “clingy pest” they couldn’t shake off. My immediate response to my sister? A swift “1.” Aren’t the new, exotic succubi more appealing? Who still cares for these two rejects? 1 The ear-splitting argument from next door had me utterly frozen. My phone screen glowed, displaying a message from my sister, received half a minute ago. “Autumn, haven’t you gotten tired of those two succubi yet?” “Your big sis found a new one for you abroad. Tall, strong stamina. If you want him, reply with a ‘1’.” My mind was a chaotic mess, yet my fingers seemed to have a will of their own, automatically tapping out a ‘1’. The phone rang almost instantly. I fumbled to answer it. On the screen, my sister’s smile was blindingly bright. It was still broad daylight where she was, the sunlight stinging my eyes. Seeing her familiar face, my nose suddenly ached, and tears began to stream down my cheeks. It was only at this moment that I finally understood: the succubi I’d nurtured for so long held no place for me in their hearts. Neither of them did. “Oh, what’s wrong? Who’s been bothering my precious little sister? Is it Lysander or Lyall?” My sister sounded frantic on the other end, practically wishing she could climb through the phone line. I wiped away my tears, a shaky laugh bubbling up. “Sis, their names are Lysander and Lyall.” My sister clearly didn’t care that she’d mixed up their names, her brow furrowed in a tight knot. “Who cares what those things are called, they’re just succubi. Who upset you? Your sister will book a flight back right now to sort them out.” I shook my head, quickly changing the subject, not wanting her to worry. “No one, they’re actually quite good to me. By the way, where’s that new succubus you mentioned?” My sister’s grin was mischievous as she walked to the next room, phone in hand. “My little sis is finally coming out of her shell, huh? I remember you used to be so shy. I was worried you couldn’t handle the two I left you back then.” My face flushed, but my heart was heavy with bitterness. In truth, nothing had happened between us for the first six months after my sister left. They were incredibly well-behaved then, bringing me tea and water every day, like premium housekeepers. It wasn’t until three months ago, when I’d had too much to drink at a friend’s gathering, that Lysander, the older brother, took care of me. Facing that face, too handsome to be human, I truly felt a stir in my heart. Fueled by alcohol, we drew closer. That night, Lysander was exceptionally… attentive. Once a succubus had a taste, they couldn’t stay away. From then on, Lysander was in my room every night. Initially, Lyall, the younger brother, would watch the show from the sidelines, often making me blush intensely. But as he saw Lysander and me growing closer, his expression grew darker by the day. 2 Half a month later, he finally couldn’t hold it in anymore. He climbed into my bed, declaring that there shouldn’t be favoritism. Lyall was even clingier than his brother, confessing his affection multiple times a day, wanting to be glued to me twenty-four-seven. They often squabbled for my attention, and I used to find it rather sweet. I thought we would just continue living like that. Until the day before yesterday, when my sister called, saying she’d be back next week. I immediately heard the sound of a shattering glass in the living room. I looked up to see Lysander frowning as he swept the floor. Lyall had dropped a milk glass, and both their expressions were strangely off. From that evening on, they stopped coming into my room. At the time, I was too excited about my sister’s return to think much of it. It wasn’t until just now, when I vaguely heard arguing from next door. “You’re not even bothering to pretend anymore? Autumn slept alone again today.” Lysander’s voice was as cool and restrained as ever, sounding particularly ascetic. “Aren’t you the same? Sister Leigh is coming back. Of course, I need to wash off that clingy scent, so she doesn’t find me distasteful.” Lyall said it as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. 3 Lysander seemed to be losing his patience. “Why are you in such a hurry? If we both leave, what if she goes crazy and bothers Sister Leigh? You stay here and keep an eye on things. I’ll come get you in a bit.” Lyall exploded. “Brother, you’re truly a hypocrite. If you want to stay, you stay. I’m going back first. If you leave, that annoying clingy girl, Autumn Clarke, definitely won’t let me go.” Their voices grew louder, and finally, they even started to fight physically. I sat on the edge of my bed, my head buzzing, my heart aching as if it were being squeezed. Annoying clingy girl, were they talking about me? The one who had held me so tightly just a few days ago, refusing to let go – was that a ghost? I sat there stunned for a long time until my sister’s video call jiggled again. “Autumn, ready to drool?” “I guarantee you’ll fall for him at first sight.” My sister’s voice pulled me back to reality. She was excitedly knocking on the door next door. Her antics managed to dispel a good deal of my sadness. “Is he really that handsome?” I asked curiously. My sister made a shushing gesture, and the next second, the door opened. She held her phone up, switching the camera. The image blurred for a moment, and then I felt my heart skip a beat. The man on the screen had deep blue eyes and soft-looking brown curly hair. His face was as exquisitely sculpted as a work of art. Even though I’d seen many handsome men, at that moment, I felt a little dizzy. “I paid a fortune to find this one for you. You should be happy to have such a good sister.” My sister smirked like a cunning fox and handed the phone directly to the man. “Hayden Blackwell, this is my sister, Autumn Clarke.” She paused intentionally. “From today, she’s your mistress.” My face instantly flushed crimson, right down to my neck. “Hello.” The man stared at the phone for a few seconds. His voice was incredibly magnetic, instantly reassuring. “Mistress.” I almost bit my tongue, hastily waving my hand. “No, no, no, just call me Autumn.” My sister burst into laughter on the other end. Hayden looked up at her, and I might have been mistaken, but my sister immediately stifled her laughter. She glanced at me guiltily and quietly slipped towards the door. “You two chat, build some rapport. I’ll come back for my phone later.” The man on the screen and I stared at each other, wide-eyed. The atmosphere was a little awkward. Fortunately, Hayden was quite perceptive. Noticing my slight discomfort, he started making conversation. Not only was he handsome, but he spoke with a gentle cadence. His voice, a soft hum in my ears, made my head feel light and fuzzy. I answered whatever he asked. It wasn’t until he chuckled softly that I snapped back to attention. “I asked you what kind of gift you wanted, and you just kept saying ‘mm-hmm’. What does that mean?” My face was hot enough to fry an egg. I’d been so busy staring at his face, I hadn’t heard a word he said. 4 Just then, there was a knock on my bedroom door, and my sister’s voice came through the phone. “Alright, alright, you’ll have plenty of time to chat when I get back. Give me my phone, I want to play games.” Hayden gave me a somewhat helpless wave. “Good night, Autumn.” The knocking outside the door grew more urgent, so I could only hang up and open it. The moment the door swung open, Lysander’s hand, poised to knock again, froze mid-air. Lyall was hunched over, peeking through the door crack, and completely unprepared for my sudden opening. He tumbled face-first onto the floor. Lysander withdrew his hand, his expression calm, but his tone was gentle. “Not asleep yet?” Seeing the bruise on his chin, the last flicker of warmth in my heart died out. My mind replayed their argument from earlier. 5 Seeing my silence, Lyall scrambled up from the floor, his hand reaching for my arm. “Who were you talking to just now? Why was there a man’s voice in the middle of the night?” With that, he tried to snatch my phone. Lyall was incredibly possessive and wild. In the past, he’d scowl if I spoke to a neighbor for too long, sulk all night if I went out for dinner, and constantly check my phone. This time, I didn’t stop him. He snatched it, glanced at the contact name “Sister,” and his tense shoulders finally relaxed. He didn’t click to open the chat, returned the phone to me, his tone still a little guilty. “Oh, so you were talking to Sister Leigh. Why didn’t you say so sooner?” At the mention of my sister’s name, Lysander’s eyes also changed, revealing an undisguised eagerness. “Autumn, did your sister say when she’s coming back?” “Is Sister Leigh getting home next week?” The two succubi spoke in unison, and the air suddenly became incredibly quiet. Watching their impatient expressions, I suddenly found it a little funny. All their previous tenderness had been an act. I had been foolish enough to believe it was true love. The sweet nothings succubi whispered in bed—it turned out not even a single punctuation mark could be trusted. “She’s coming back next week.” I replied calmly. Lyall was younger and couldn’t hide his feelings. His eyes lit up instantly. “So she’ll come straight to your place then…” Lysander quickly pulled him back. Although he was trying to restrain himself, the corners of his mouth still curved upwards. “Alright, we’ll go pick her up together.” Hesitating, he then looked at me and said, “Autumn, you don’t look so good. Are you feeling unwell?” Lysander reached out to touch my forehead, but I sidestepped, shutting the bedroom door. “I’m fine.” I heard Lyall whisper outside the door, “Brother, she wasn’t asleep just now, was she? Did she hear everything we said?” Lysander didn’t reply, just pulled him away. I collapsed onto my bed, letting out a long sigh. I remembered the first time I saw them, at my sister’s estate. My sister was in a hurry to go abroad, and these two succubi, freshly delivered, were to be returned. “I completely forgot I even ordered these two.” Lysander remained silent, but Lyall’s eyes immediately welled up with tears, looking incredibly pitiful. I’d heard that if succubi were returned, they’d be sent for “reconditioning,” a process said to be extremely painful. So when my sister suggested giving them to me, I softened and agreed. My sister was quite surprised then, as my personality had always been rather conservative. But she still warned me, “Succubi are just trinkets for amusement, don’t get too attached. You can make do with these two for now, and I’ll find you better ones later.” I closed my eyes, my mind replaying Lyall’s words, “annoying clingy girl.” Perhaps my sister was right; they truly were just disposable. 6 The next morning, Lysander had already prepared breakfast. Lyall bounced out of his room, card in hand. “Brother, let’s go.” He looked up and saw me, his smile instantly freezing. “Lysander and I are going to buy some new clothes. Do you want to come along?” Lysander tried to smooth things over. I averted my gaze, walking straight to the dining table. “You two go ahead.” Lysander frowned, reaching out again to touch my head. “You seem a little out of sorts today. Are you sick?” I dodged him again, taking a sip of milk. Lysander’s hand hung in the air, but Lyall pulled him away. “Then you eat slowly; we’ll be back soon.” Lysander glanced back at me, his eyes full of confusion. I kept my head down, staring at my cup, ignoring him. I’d made up my mind last night: when my sister returned, I would send them back, exactly as they were. As for what would happen to them afterward, that was their own fate. After all, their service contract was still with my sister. The moment they left, I tossed out all their toothbrushes and towels that were in my room. Just then, Hayden video-called me. Seeing his handsome face, my mood instantly brightened. Indeed, looking at a gorgeous man was the best remedy for a gloomy mood. My sister always called me a shy, quiet girl, but today I chatted with Hayden for over three hours without feeling tired. “Autumn, I bought your favorite candied hawthorn.” Lyall burst through the front door like a cheerful puppy, clutching a bag. “I have something else to attend to, so I’ll hang up now. Your gift has already been shipped.” Hayden’s voice came from the phone, and Lyall’s smile vanished instantly. He rushed over in three strides, reaching out to snatch my phone. “Autumn Clarke! Who are you fooling around with while we’re not home? Why is there a man’s voice in the middle of the night?” I calmly slipped my phone into my pocket, taking the bag of candied hawthorn. Lysander followed, carrying shopping bags, as Lyall glared and complained. “Brother! Autumn Clarke was talking to a man on the phone while we were out, and she wouldn’t let me see!” Lysander was relatively composed, shoving the bags into Lyall’s arms. “It’s good that she has her own social circle.” Lyall paused, looked at the bags in his hands, then at me, as if understanding something. His expression softened slightly. I scoffed inwardly. Lysander was telling his brother that as long as someone else was occupying me, they could naturally make their escape. He was truly overthinking it; I had no intention of stopping them in the first place.

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Every year on my birthday, my boyfriend would ditch me at the last minute because of his junior, Sienna. This year, I’d booked a restaurant, put on the dress he said he loved most, and waited for three hours. Finally, I got a message from him: “Sienna’s heartbroken and feeling down. I’m just going to talk to her for a bit. You go ahead and eat.” This time, I didn’t beg or cry. I finished my steak alone and ordered myself a slice of cake. I made a wish: I hoped that by next year’s birthday, I wouldn’t need him anymore. When Justin arrived, he saw me saying goodbye to the waiter. He looked confused. “Why didn’t you wait for me?” I smiled. “It’s fine. Go be with Sienna. I’m used to it.” 1 Back home, I headed straight for the guest room. Justin followed me, puzzled. “What are you doing in the guest room?” “Sleeping.” I opened the closet and began to pack my pajamas and toiletries. “What do you mean?” He frowned. “Are you mad?” I didn’t answer, simply and calmly placing my belongings, one by one, into a storage bin. Justin walked over, intending to take my hand, but I sidestepped him. “I really had something important come up. Sienna was particularly upset today…” he began to explain. “I know.” I cut him off, my tone flat. “Go be with her. I understand.” He froze, probably not expecting that response from me. Sienna was his junior, who later became his assistant. I’d always felt he showed a clear favoritism towards Sienna. In the past, every time he’d broken plans because of her, I would cry, rage, and demand answers hysterically. But now, I was truly exhausted. I carried the storage bin towards the guest room. Justin still stood rooted to the spot, his face etched with bewilderment. “You… you’re still angry?” He followed me. I turned to look at him, stating calmly, “I just want to sleep in a different room. Nothing else.” “But…” “Good night.” I closed the guest room door. Lying on the unfamiliar bed, I felt strangely peaceful. Tonight marked our third birthday together since we started dating, and it was the third time he’d stood me up. The first year, he said there was an urgent need for him at an art exhibition. I waited at home until midnight, the cake hardening. The second year, he said Sienna was sick and needed his care. I went to the restaurant alone, ate a mango cake I was allergic to, and ended up in the emergency room. This year, he said Sienna was feeling down again. Every single time, it was Sienna. I closed my eyes, recalling the wish I’d made tonight. By next year’s birthday, I truly wouldn’t need him anymore. I woke up early the next morning, quickly washed up, and left the house. Justin was still asleep; I didn’t wake him. I used to always prepare breakfast for him, but today, the dining table was bare. This time, I only bought soy milk and steamed buns for myself. 2 At three in the afternoon, I was in a meeting when Justin messaged me: “Sienna’s landlord is reclaiming the apartment, and she has nowhere to stay. Can she stay at our place for a few days?” I stared at the message, recalling two years ago when we first started dating. I’d suggested inviting my best friend over, and he’d said, “Home is a private space; maybe not have outsiders over.” Back then, my best friend was an outsider. Now, Sienna wasn’t. I didn’t reply. When I got home from work, Sienna was already in the living room. She wore Justin’s white shirt, her hair damp, sitting on the sofa watching TV. I recognized the shirt; it was one of Justin’s favorites. He’d usually tell me, “Don’t wrinkle it,” even if I just touched it. Justin saw me return and immediately walked over to explain, “Her clothes got wet in the rain, so I…” “Mm-hmm.” I nodded, changed my shoes, and walked into the kitchen. He followed me, lowering his voice. “You’re not angry?” “Why would I be angry?” I opened the fridge, starting to prepare dinner. “You said she had nowhere to stay; it’s perfectly normal for her to stay a few days.” Justin stared at me for a few seconds, as if checking if I was being sarcastic. I didn’t look at him, just calmly washed and chopped vegetables. Sienna’s voice drifted from the living room: “Justin, there’s a new mystery movie out tonight. Will you come with me to see it?” I heard Justin say, “Sure, I’ll be with you in a moment.” Then he turned to me, tentatively asking, “Do you… want to come too?” I dried my hands, calmly stating, “No, I don’t like watching movies. You two go.” He frowned. “Don’t you love watching movies?” I smiled, offering no reply. Two years ago, every time I asked him to watch a movie, he’d say, “Maybe another day, Sienna and I are swamped.” I asked him over a dozen times; he never agreed once. After that, I stopped asking. Now, he couldn’t even remember what I liked. Justin stood at the kitchen doorway, wanting to say something but stopping himself. In the end, he left with Sienna. I sat alone at the dining table, eating the meal I’d cooked myself. My phone rang; it was my best friend. “How was your birthday?” she asked. “It was good.” My voice was flat. “Who are you kidding? I saw your social media post—just a picture of cake. Where was Justin?” I paused for a few seconds. “He had something to do.” “Sienna again?” My best friend’s voice rose. “I told you…” “It’s fine, I’m used to it.” I cut her off. “Talk later, I’m eating.” After hanging up, I looked out the window. It was dark now; they must be at the cinema. Would Sienna lean on his shoulder, just as she had countless times before, saying, “Justin, you’re the best”? I picked up a piece of green vegetable, chewing slowly. I don’t know why, but I suddenly remembered the candlelight I saw when I made my wish. In that instant, I felt like I had truly let go of my expectations for him. At eleven o’clock, I heard the lock turn. Justin was back, a smile still on his face. He saw me washing dishes, paused, and came over, offering to help. I said, “No need, go rest.” He stood behind me, staring at my back for a long time. “What… what’s wrong with you?” he asked. I dried my hands, turned to face him, and calmly asked, “Nothing, was the movie good?” “It was alright.” He answered somewhat distractedly. “Why aren’t you angry?” “Why should I be angry?” I countered. He was speechless. Probably because the old me would have made a huge fuss over something like this. But now that I wasn’t fighting, he was unnerved. Men, they really are a pain. 3 Over the next few days, I deliberately avoided Justin. I left the house at seven every morning and didn’t return until ten at night. Even on weekends, I’d schedule meetings with clients or stay at my best friend’s place. When Justin invited me to dinner, I’d say, “I have a client meeting.” When he asked me to watch a movie, I’d say, “Working late, maybe next time.” When he asked why I was so busy, I’d say, “Lots of projects lately.” The truth was, I just didn’t want to be in that house. After Sienna moved in, the living room became her domain. Her cosmetics were on the coffee table, her clothes hung on the balcony, and her and Justin’s laughter always drifted from the living room. That house felt less and less like my home. On Friday night, I browsed rental listings on my phone. My best friend messaged me: “Are you moving out?” “Yeah, I want a change of scenery,” I replied. “Finally coming to your senses?” I didn’t answer the question, just kept looking at listings. Justin walked up behind me, saw my phone screen, and his face changed. “You’re looking for a place?” His voice was a little strained. “Yeah.” I locked the screen and put my phone down. He sat opposite me, his eyes complex. “Are you moving out?” I looked up at him, calmly stating, “This apartment is yours, and Sienna lives here too. I don’t feel very comfortable.” “Sienna’s moving out in a few days,” he quickly explained. I smiled. “It’s fine; I’m used to it anyway.” “You’re saying you’re used to it again.” He frowned. “What exactly do you mean? I told you, I only see Sienna as a sister.” I didn’t answer, just got up to get water from the kitchen. Justin followed me, pressing, “Are you upset with me?” “No.” I took a sip of water. “I just think it’s better to live somewhere more comfortable.” “But this is our home…” “It’s your home.” I cut him off, looking into his eyes. “I’m just temporarily staying here.” He froze. I turned and went back to my room, hearing his frustrated voice just before I closed the door: “Claire, you actually don’t believe me!” The next day, a colleague from work invited me to lunch. Mid-meal, she suddenly asked, “Are you and Justin doing okay?” I paused. “Yeah, why?” “Just… is he good to you?” My colleague hesitated. “I don’t mean to stir trouble, but I saw him with another girl the other day, and they were very intimate.” I smiled, saying nothing. My colleague sighed. “He cheated, why don’t you break up with him?” Then, she paused. “Forget it, pretend I didn’t say anything.” I knew what she wanted to say. She wanted to say, you don’t look happy at all. She wanted to say, he seems to care more about that Sienna. She wanted to say, you deserve better. But I knew all these things myself. That evening, Justin messaged: “Let’s go out for dinner tonight. We haven’t eaten together in ages.” I replied: “No, I have a client meeting.” “Another client meeting?” He sent a question mark. “You’ve been busy every day this week.” “Yeah, a lot of projects lately.” My phone vibrated several times, all messages from him. “What exactly are you busy with?” “I miss you.” “Are you avoiding me?” I looked at these messages, finally just replying with two words: “No.” Then I silenced my phone and continued looking at rental listings. My best friend was right; I really should move out. I had already scheduled viewings for this weekend. 4 On Tuesday morning, I caught a cold. My head was spinning when I woke up, and my throat felt like it was being cut. I took my temperature: 102.5°F. I sent Justin a message: “I have a fever.” He quickly replied: “Drink plenty of water, take some medicine, and get some rest.” I stared at those six words for a long time, finally just replying with an “Okay.” I lay in bed until the afternoon, my head growing dizzier. I tried to get up to get some water, but the moment I stood up, my vision went black, and I almost fell. My phone rang. It wasn’t a call, but a message from Justin: “Sienna’s blood sugar is low, and she’s not feeling well. I’m taking her to the hospital, so I’ll be back later.” I looked at this message, then at my own temperature, which had climbed to 103.1°F, and found it oddly ironic. I made myself some cold medicine, took a fever reducer, and lay back down. Seven o’clock, eight o’clock, nine o’clock. I drifted in and out of sleep, the room quiet, just me alone. A little after ten, I heard the lock turn. Justin and Sienna were back. I heard his footsteps entering, and his voice talking to Sienna: “You go to your room and rest well. Call me if you need anything.” A little while later, he pushed open my door, saw me lying in bed, and walked over, asking, “What’s wrong?” “Cold.” I answered with my eyes closed. “Has the fever gone down?” “Not yet.” He reached out to touch my forehead, but I turned my face away. “Then get more rest.” He stood for a moment, then turned and left. I heard his footsteps fade, then voices from the living room. “Yeah, she’s resting… I bought you fruit and medicine… It’s nothing, you just rest well…” I opened my eyes, staring at the ceiling. He bought Sienna fruit and medicine. But when I was home with a fever, he only replied, “Drink plenty of water.” My best friend came to see me that evening. Seeing my fever-flushed face, she swore angrily: “Where’s Justin? Where is he?” “He’s taking Sienna to the hospital again,” I said weakly. “She has low blood sugar.” “Low blood sugar?” My best friend’s voice rose. “You’re almost at 104°F, and he’s with someone else for low blood sugar?” I said nothing. My best friend poured me water and gave me medicine, scolding me while taking care of me: “I really don’t know what you see in him. Two years, has he ever been good to you?” I swallowed the medicine, so bitter I wanted to throw up. “I don’t know either,” I said. “Maybe I just liked that he’s handsome.” “You…” My best friend sighed. “Forget it, I’m tired of talking to you.” She stayed with me until midnight, leaving only after confirming my fever had broken. 5 In the morning, I was still asleep when I heard the door lock click. Justin returned, carrying things. “Did you buy breakfast?” I walked over. “Yeah.” He turned to me. “Sienna has low blood sugar. She loves the soup dumplings from this place, so I specifically waited in line to buy them.” My hand froze. Sienna emerged from her room, her face lighting up when she saw the breakfast. “Wow, you really went and bought them? You remember even the casual things I say.” Justin smiled. “You’ve loved these since you were a kid; of course I remember.” I stood there, watching the two of them chat and laugh. I felt like an outsider. “You eat too.” Justin noticed me, gesturing to the porridge on the table. “I bought you plain porridge.” Plain porridge. The most ordinary kind of porridge. I suddenly felt that our love was like this bowl of plain porridge, utterly tasteless. I walked to the dining table and sat down, looking at the bowl of porridge, and suddenly asked Justin, “Do you remember what I like to eat?” Justin froze, clearly not expecting such a question. “Never mind, forget I asked.” With that, I stood up and picked up my bag to leave. Justin followed me. “Where are you going?” “To buy breakfast.” I said without looking back. “Didn’t I buy…” “I don’t eat plain porridge.” He followed me out, catching up to me downstairs. I stopped, turning to face him. “What’s wrong?” He stared at me, wanting to speak but holding back. I said calmly, “Two years, and you’ve never bought me breakfast once.” He froze, a hint of panic flashing across his face. I continued, “But you remember Sienna loves soup dumplings, and you even went and queued for them. This isn’t the first time, is it?” “I…” He opened his mouth, but no words came out. Then I turned and left. His voice came from behind me: “Can you stop being so petty all the time!” I didn’t look back, just quickened my pace. When I got home, Justin was sitting on the sofa, his face grim. Sienna was no longer in the living room. As I walked past him, he suddenly spoke, “I’ll be more mindful in the future.” I stopped, looking at him. “I’ll remember what you like to eat, I’ll buy you breakfast, I’ll…” He stood up, his gaze earnest. “No need.” I interrupted him. “Really, no need.” “Why?” “Because…” I thought for a moment, then calmly said, “I don’t need it anymore.” His face changed. “What do you mean?” I didn’t answer, just returned to the guest room and closed the door. Sitting on the bed, I opened my phone and saw a message from the real estate agent: “Ms. Wright, the landlord of the apartment you liked has agreed to rent it to you. You can sign the contract this week.” I replied: “Great, I’ll sign on Wednesday.” After sending the message, I leaned against the headboard and closed my eyes. By next year’s birthday, I truly wouldn’t need him anymore. My wish was slowly coming true.

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I lay on the birthing bed, contractions tightening, one after another. My husband, Liam Clarke, held my hand, his gaze so gentle it could melt. “Just a little longer, Eleanor, we’ll see our baby soon.” Sweat drenched me from the pain, yet I managed a small smile for him. It wasn’t until the nurse walked in with a syringe that I thought it was the epidural for pain relief. But Liam suddenly released my hand, stepping back. The moment the needle pierced my skin, I heard Liam say: “Adjust the dosage carefully. She must not go into full labor until Ophelia has delivered.” My eyes widened, staring at him, but he merely glanced down at his watch. “Ophelia is six centimeters dilated. We just need to delay for another two hours.” I wanted to scream, to struggle, but the drug had already been pushed in. The severe contractions in my abdomen, as if an invisible hand had suddenly squeezed them. Came to an abrupt halt. … I was wheeled into a makeshift holding cell in the hospital basement. Liam’s sister, Lydia, stood by the door, idly toying with a scalpel. “Sister Eleanor, don’t blame my brother.” “The child Ophelia is carrying is my eldest brother’s posthumous son—the first male heir of our Clarke family in this generation.” “No matter how early you deliver, it’s just a granddaughter. Useless.” I clutched my belly, a new wave of contractions fighting against the medication. The pain made my vision blacken. “Call a doctor, I’m going into labor, really…” Lydia smiled. She walked in, knelt before me, and gently patted my face with the scalpel. “Deliver what?” “The medication will last another three hours. Sister Ophelia has already entered the delivery room.” “You just wait here obediently. Once her son is safely born, you can deliver however you like.” She finished, then stood up, instructing the bodyguards at the door: “Watch her. If she dares to scream, gag her.” The door closed. The basement only had a dim emergency light. I lay on the floor, the blood beneath me already soaking my dress. My phone had been taken by Liam as soon as I entered the hospital. He said radiation was bad for the baby. Now, looking back, he feared I might contact someone outside. I curled up, trying to breathe deeply to alleviate the pain. But my mind was filled with Liam’s expression from earlier. Cold, calculating, as if looking at an object. Not a wife, nor a woman about to bear his child. Three months ago, his eldest brother died in a car accident. Leaving behind his pregnant widow, Ophelia, three months along. At the funeral, Old Mr. Clarke wept, clutching Ophelia’s hand and saying: “You must give birth safely. The Clarke family cannot be without an heir.” At the time, I felt sorry for Ophelia, and proactively said: “Dad, don’t worry, Liam and my child will also take good care of you.” The old man glanced at me, saying nothing. It turned out that from then on, my child had already been forsaken. “Ah…” Another wave of contractions struck, more intense than before. The medication was weakening; the baby was coming. I clawed at the door panel, banging with all my might. “Someone, I’m in labor, save my baby.” There was no movement outside the door. Only after my voice went hoarse did I hear the bodyguard’s impatient tone: “What’s all the fuss? Miss Lydia said to wait.” “But the baby…” “If it dies, it’s fate. Who told your belly not to be strong enough to carry a son?” I slumped to the ground, shivering cold. Not fate. Someone wanted my baby dead. I don’t know how long I endured in that basement. The blood flowed more and more, soaking the ground beneath me. As my consciousness began to blur, the door suddenly opened. It wasn’t Lydia, nor the bodyguards. It was the Clarke family’s personal physician, Dr. Chen. When he saw my condition, his face instantly paled. “Mrs. Clarke? What are you doing here?” “Mr. Clarke said you were resting in the VIP room, didn’t he?” I tried to speak, but no sound came out. I could only point to my belly, tears streaming incessantly. Dr. Chen quickly walked over, kneeling to examine me. The moment his hand touched my belly, he gasped. “Fully dilated! Water’s broken!” “Immediate surgery needed!” He tried to lift me, but the moment I moved, a gush of warmth flooded from my lower body. Blood. A large amount of blood. Dr. Chen’s hands trembled. He shouted towards the door: “Someone! Quickly! The patient is hemorrhaging!” The corridor was empty. This private hospital was funded by the Clarke family. Tonight, it had been cleared for Ophelia’s delivery. All medical staff were on standby on the third floor. Dr. Chen pulled out his phone to call, but found there was no signal in the basement. “I’ll carry you up, hold on!” He gritted his teeth, picked me up, and stumbled out. The stairs were long, every step jarring me beyond endurance. I could feel the baby dropping, but it just wouldn’t come out. The medication was still working, contractions coming and going sporadically. This was the most dangerous. “Dr. Chen…” I clutched his collar, my voice a mere whisper. “Save the baby, please.” “Don’t say such foolish things, everything will be fine!” He finally rushed to the first floor, heading towards the operating room. But at the door, we both froze. The operating room door was wide open. It was empty. The surgical lights were gone. The operating table was gone. Monitors, oxygen machines, all medical equipment, vanished. Only an empty room remained, with a few power outlets on the walls. Dr. Chen stood rigid. I heard a gurgling sound in his throat, as if he were being strangled. “How could this be…” “I checked the equipment this afternoon…” Footsteps approached from the end of the corridor. Lydia walked over with two nurses. Seeing us, she raised an eyebrow. “Dr. Chen, what are you doing here?” “Sister Ophelia is in the delivery room on the third floor. Why did you come down?” Dr. Chen pointed to the empty operating room, his voice trembling: “Where’s the equipment? Where did the operating room equipment go?” Lydia looked innocent: “It was moved to the third floor.” “Sister Ophelia is having a C-section. She needs the best equipment. In case of an emergency, an ordinary operating room wouldn’t be enough.” She said, her gaze falling on me, and smiled. “Is Sister Eleanor going into labor?” “You’ll have to wait a bit. Sister Ophelia isn’t finished yet.” “Just hold on a little longer.” I looked at her exquisitely made-up face. Suddenly I remembered half a year ago, she walked arm-in-arm with me while shopping, sweetly saying: “Sister Eleanor, you’re so kind, closer than my own sister.” At the time, I even bought her a handbag worth tens of thousands. Looking back now, it was a joke. Dr. Chen frantically rushed into the nurses’ station, searching for emergency equipment. But the cabinets were bare. Not even the most basic hemostats or gauze. “Where’s the medicine? Hemostatic agents! Oxytocin!” A nurse whispered, “They’ve all been sent to the third floor.” “Mr. Clarke ordered that all resources prioritize Mrs. Ophelia.” Dr. Chen slammed his fist on the counter. He looked at me with bloodshot eyes, his lips trembling: “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Mrs. Clarke…” “I can’t do anything…” Lydia walked over, patting his shoulder: “Dr. Chen, don’t worry.” “Sister Eleanor hasn’t delivered yet, has she? Once Sister Ophelia is done, the equipment will be moved back down.” She glanced at my belly and added: “Even if she does deliver, it’s just a girl. If she’s gone, she’s gone.” “The Clarke family isn’t lacking one of those.” I stared intently at her. Stared at this person I had loved like my own sister for three years. Then, with all my remaining strength, I squeezed out two words: “Beast.” Lydia’s face darkened. She bent down, leaning close to my ear, her voice very low: “Curse all you want, go ahead.” “Anyway, once you’ve delivered and your body is weak, I have plenty of ways to shut you up.” “By then, the position of Mrs. Clarke will belong to Sister Ophelia.” “As for you…” She straightened up, a brilliant smile on her face: “Out of respect for my brother, we’ll spare your life. You can be a servant.” Dr. Chen couldn’t listen anymore: “Miss Lydia! This is murder!” “Murder?” Lydia scoffed. “Dr. Chen, watch your words.” “It’s not uncommon for a woman to die during childbirth, is it?” “Besides, this is my Clarke family’s private business. As an outsider, is it any of your concern?” She finished, waving to the bodyguards: “Take Dr. Chen to rest.” “As for Sister Eleanor, I’ll personally take care of her.” Two bodyguards stepped forward, dragging Dr. Chen away. Dr. Chen struggled, shouting: “Mrs. Clarke! Press the acupoints to stimulate contractions!” “Don’t give up! The baby can still be saved!” His voice faded into the distance. Lydia closed the nurses’ station door and turned to look at me. She pulled out her phone from her pocket and made a video call. “Brother, Sister Eleanor is going into labor. Do you want to take a look?” Liam’s face appeared on the screen. He was outside the delivery room, with busy medical staff in the background. “Eleanor, don’t make a fuss.” “Ophelia’s not doing well here; the fetal heart rate has dropped.” Lydia aimed the camera at me: “Look, Sister Eleanor is bleeding a lot. Is she going to die too?” Liam frowned, glanced at me, and quickly averted his gaze. “Tell her to wait.” “Once Ophelia has delivered, the doctors will come down.” “Eleanor, you take care of things for now. I can’t leave here.” The video call ended. Lydia shrugged, putting her phone away. “Hear that?” “In my brother’s heart, Sister Ophelia is the first priority.” “You, you’re just a breeding tool.” “Once a tool is used up, it’s meant to be discarded.” I closed my eyes, no longer looking at her. My hand stealthily moved behind me, feeling for the lining of my dress. A button-sized device was sewn there. My father had given it to me. He said, “Eleanor, the Clarke family’s waters run deep. If anything happens, press this.” At the time, I laughed, thinking he was overly cautious. “Dad, Liam is very good to me, and everyone in the Clarke family treats me well.” Looking back now, I was utterly foolish. I used my fingernail to pry open the device’s protective cover. And pressed it gently. No sound, no light. But I knew the signal had been sent. My father had told me that once this was pressed, someone would arrive within half an hour. But half an hour… Could my baby wait half an hour? My consciousness grew increasingly hazy. Lydia sat in a chair playing on her phone, occasionally glancing at me, her gaze like someone observing a lab animal. “Sister Eleanor, what did you marry into this family for?” “For my brother’s good looks? For the Clarke family’s wealth?” “But didn’t you consider, you come from an ordinary family, what right did you have to enter the Clarke family’s door?” I said nothing. Just kept pressing the acupoints Dr. Chen had mentioned. Press hard. Even if hope was slim. Lydia continued: “If it weren’t for your fertile womb, getting pregnant early, my brother wouldn’t have married you at all.” “The original plan was for you to have a son, to at least be somewhat useful.” “But the ultrasound showed it was a girl, and Grandpa’s face darkened.” “Fortunately, Sister Ophelia is carrying a boy, otherwise the Clarke family would have been cut off this generation.” She stood up, walked over, and kicked my leg. “So, you see, a person must know their place.” “Don’t force things that aren’t meant for you.” “Once Sister Ophelia delivers, you’ll sign the divorce papers, take some money, and leave.” “Then you can marry an ordinary man later. How nice.” I opened my eyes, looking at her: “Does Liam know you’re talking to me like this?” Lydia smiled: “He knows.” “My brother asked me to come and persuade you.” “He said you’re stubborn and he was afraid you’d do something rash, so he told me to guide you properly.” I forced a twisted smile. Wanted to laugh, but couldn’t. Another wave of intense pain ripped through my abdomen. This time, it was more violent than before. The medication had completely worn off; the baby was coming. “Ah!” I couldn’t help but cry out. Lydia stepped back, frowning: “So troublesome.” She opened the door, shouting outside: “Someone, check if she’s going into labor.” A nurse cautiously walked in, took one look, and her face went white. “Fully dilated, head is visible…” “But there’s too much bleeding; we need to deliver immediately!” Lydia was impatient: “Then deliver!” The nurse was almost crying: “There’s no equipment, no medicine. Delivering like this… both the mother and baby are in danger…” “Then let it be dangerous.” Lydia said coldly. “Anyway, they’re going to die, why care about this?” Lydia gave her instructions and then went to find Liam, completely disregarding whether I lived or died. The nurse dared not speak, only knelt down and tried to help me manually dilate. But I couldn’t exert any force. Too much blood loss, my strength was completely drained. The baby was stuck, neither moving up nor down. Time ticked by, second by agonizing second. Until hurried footsteps suddenly echoed in the corridor. Many people. The sound of boots on the ground, synchronized. The nurse’s face changed: “Who’s there?” The door was kicked open. A group of people in black combat gear rushed in, each carrying a gun. The leading man removed his helmet, revealing a sharply chiseled face. The moment he saw me, his eyes reddened. “Miss!” I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. Could only reach out to him. The nurse shrieked in panic: “Who are you! How did you get in! Security! Security!” The man didn’t even look at her, rushing directly to me and kneeling on one knee. “Your subordinate is late, please forgive me, Miss!” He picked me up, ordering those behind him: “Clear the area! Prepare for emergency!” “Yes, sir!” The men in black moved swiftly. The nurse tried to flee in the chaos but was instantly pinned to the ground. She struggled, shouting: “How dare you touch me! This is Clarke family hospital!” The man turned back, glancing at her. His eyes were as cold as ice. “The Clarke family?” “Soon there will be no Clarke family.” I was carried onto a modified medical vehicle. The vehicle was fully equipped, like a mobile operating room. Doctors and nurses were already on standby, immediately beginning resuscitation. “Blood pressure 60/40! Hemorrhagic shock!” “Fetal distress! Emergency C-section required!” “But the patient’s condition is too poor, surgical risk…” “Do it!” the man who carried me in roared. “I’ll take responsibility for anything that happens!” I clutched his hand, using my last ounce of strength: “Save the baby, save the baby first…” He squeezed my hand, his voice trembling: “Miss, don’t speak, conserve your strength.” “The Master is already on his way, he’ll be here soon.” “You and the baby will both be fine, certainly…” Before he could finish, the monitor suddenly emitted a piercing alarm. “Heart stopped! Quick! Defibrillate!” “Fetal heartbeat is also dropping!” “Prepare for C-section! Immediately!” I was quickly secured, and an anesthesia mask was placed over my face. Before losing consciousness, I only heard the doctor shout: “It’s too late! The baby… the baby has no heartbeat!” Darkness, endless darkness. I don’t know how long passed. I opened my eyes. An unfamiliar ceiling above me, the smell of disinfectant in the air. “The Miss is awake!” Someone shouted in surprise. Several faces leaned in, all familiar. My father’s personal bodyguards, uncles who had watched me grow up since childhood. “The baby?” I asked. My voice was impossibly hoarse. The room instantly fell silent. After a few seconds, the man standing at the foot of the bed slowly turned around. It was my father. A man in his fifties, his hair had turned completely white overnight. He walked over, sat by the bed, and held my hand. “Eleanor…” Only two words, and then he choked up. I looked at his bloodshot eyes and already knew the answer. “Gone, aren’t they?” Father nodded, tears falling. “Severe hemorrhage, placental abruption, the baby was suffocated for too long…” “The doctors did their best…” I closed my eyes. I didn’t cry, nor did I scream. I just felt an empty space in my heart. The little life that had lived in my belly for nine months, kicking me every day, whispering secrets with me. Gone. “Where’s Liam?” I asked. Father wiped away his tears, his eyes turning cold: “With Ophelia.” “She delivered, it’s a boy.” “Everyone in the Clarke family is celebrating; no one remembers you.” I smiled. Smiled until my whole body trembled. “Good, very good.” Father squeezed my hand: “Eleanor, come home with Dad.” “The Clarke family doesn’t deserve you, and that man even less so.” I opened my eyes, looking at him: “Dad, I want to do something.” “Tell me.” “Prepare a fake body for me.” “One exactly like me, freshly delivered, looking like I died from excessive blood loss.” Father froze: “You want to…” “I want them to think I’m dead.” “Then, I want to see with my own eyes how they celebrate.” “How they joyfully welcome a new life at the time of my death.” Father was silent for a long time, then nodded. “Alright, Dad will help you.” The fake body was prepared with uncanny realism. Silicone skin, blood bags inserted, body temperature simulated. Placed in the morgue freezer, it was indistinguishable from a real corpse. I sat in the monitoring room, watching the screen. Father sat beside me, holding my hand. “Regret it?” he asked. “Regret what?” “Regret marrying him.” I thought for a moment, then shook my head. “No regret. At least it allowed me to see through people’s hearts.” On the screen, Liam finally emerged from the delivery room. He held a swaddled infant, his face beaming with the joy of a new father. Ophelia lay on a mobile bed, being pushed out, her face pale but her smile radiant. Old Mr. Clarke, leaning on his cane, shakily walked over, looking at the baby, tears streaming down his face. “Grandson, I finally have a grandson…” “The Clarke family has an heir…” A group of people surrounded the baby, filled with laughter and joy. No one asked about me. No one remembered that another expectant mother was still struggling between life and death. Until a nurse quietly said, “Mr. Clarke, your wife…”

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I was Mom’s most cherished “Maple Syrup Baby,” born unable to touch sugar. A severe case of Maple Syrup Urine Disease meant that even a hint of sweetness could cause full-body swelling and suffocation. To balance my delicate psyche, Mom forced my twin brother and me to drink bitter medicine and eat special meals together. When we were seven, my brother, desperate for a taste, secretly licked a discarded candy wrapper he found on the ground. Mom discovered him, rushed over like a madwoman, and forcefully clamped his throat, making him vomit: “You worthless brat! Are you that greedy?!” “Your sister fights for her life every day, and you only care about your own pleasure?!” “I’m telling you, you deserve to suffer with your sister your whole life! As long as she’s alive, you won’t touch sugar for a single day!” Under my brother’s hateful gaze, I was consumed by shame. So, on the eve of our eighteenth birthday, I decided to use my death to grant him his freedom. I slipped into the kitchen and secretly ate an entire chocolate cake. Yet, after a night passed, the expected swelling and suffocation never came. Looking at my rosy, healthy face in the mirror, a chill ran through me: If I was fine, then who was the “Maple Syrup Baby” that Mom fought so hard to protect? 1 Last night, I stared at that fragrant chocolate cake, feeling nothing but immense relief. I clasped my hands together, silently wishing into the air: “Next life, I still want to be Mom’s daughter, Asher’s sister.” “But please, God, don’t let me be a ‘Maple Syrup Baby’ again.” “I want to be a healthy child, to eat sweets without a care, to run freely in the sun…” I opened my eyes, trembling as I dug a large spoonful of cake into my mouth. So sweet. I swallowed in big gulps, tears mixing with cream as they flowed into my mouth. Then I quietly lay back on the bed, waiting for death’s pronouncement. One minute, two minutes, an hour… There was no expected difficulty breathing, no full-body swelling, not even a hint of dizziness or nausea! I looked at my rosy-cheeked reflection in the mirror. What was going on? I’d eaten an entire chocolate cake, enough sugar to kill me ten times over! Why was I completely unharmed? Was Mom just too anxious before, and my illness wasn’t actually that serious? Or… was this the so-called ‘flash before death’? I suppressed the surging questions and fear in my heart and walked out of the bedroom. At the dining table, Mom was carrying two bowls of grayish-brown paste, placing them in front of my brother and me, constantly emitting a foul odor. It was my special nutritional powder; for eighteen years, I had sustained my life with this stuff. “I’m not eating it!” My brother, Asher, seemed to reach his breaking point. He violently waved his hand, knocking the scalding paste directly onto the floor. He pointed at the puddle and roared: “Are you crazy? I have hands, feet, and a healthy body, why do you insist on forcing me and that invalid to eat the same pig slop?” “Is this stuff even fit for humans? Not even a dog would sniff it!” Mom’s eyes instantly reddened, tears welling up immediately. “Asher! How can you say that? Do you have no conscience?” “Do you think Mom wants you to suffer? Look at your sister, Willow! She’ll only ever be able to eat this kind of thing her whole life, she’s never even tasted a bite of meat or a single piece of candy! How do you think she feels seeing you eat lavish meals?” Mom pointed at me, her voice choked. “If your sister sees you eating good food, she’ll get jealous, and her condition will worsen! Once it flares up, it’s tens of thousands in medical bills! The whole family suffering with your sister, that’s how we do things in this house!” Asher turned to look at me, his eyes devoid of any sympathy, only a thick, suffocating hatred. Seeing that brute force wasn’t working, Mom immediately changed her approach. “Son, listen. As long as you drink this bowl, and don’t make your sister feel unfairly treated, Mom will transfer money to you right away. That game skin you wanted, I’ll buy it for you, alright?” Asher’s face softened slightly. He snorted, then reluctantly picked up the bowl. Having dealt with Asher, Mom came over to me, gently stroking my hair, her eyes full of self-congratulation. “Willow, see? This naughty boy doesn’t understand, but Mom has to make him realize that in this family, your feelings come first!” As she spoke, she brought over the bowl of strange-smelling nutritional powder, half-forcing, half-persuading me to take a sip. “Mom buying him that skin, it’s just a necessary evil, to shut him up so he doesn’t make a fuss and upset you. In Mom’s heart, you’re still the most precious.” “Come on, good girl, drink it quickly. Mom specially prepared this for you, don’t let Mom’s hard work go to waste.” I looked at Mom’s eyes, filled with doting affection, and then at Asher, who, despite drinking the paste, had a smug smirk on his face. In the past, I would have been moved to tears, feeling like the happiest and most indebted daughter in the world. To repay Mom’s ‘favoritism,’ I would have tried my hardest to be good to Asher, enduring all his bullying. But now, the lingering sweetness of chocolate in my throat felt like a thorn in my heart. If I wasn’t sick, if eating sugar wouldn’t kill me… then why was Mom forcing a healthy Asher to eat this ‘pig slop’ with me? She said she loved me the most, but why did it feel like she was deliberately steering Asher’s hatred towards me? “Willow? What are you staring at? Drink up. After this, we’re going to the mall to do some New Year’s shopping.” Mom’s words brought me back to reality. I lowered my head and, suppressing my nausea, drank it all in one gulp. At the mall, Mom carried large shopping bags, all for Asher. A designer down jacket costing over three hundred dollars, the latest Apple phone, even limited-edition sneakers. Asher preened in front of the mirror in his new clothes, and Mom stood by, smiling lovingly. “Asher is going to do great things in the future. Since he’s healthy, he needs to see more of the world, dress well, so he can support your sister later.” When she turned to me, the smile on Mom’s face subtly faded. She casually pulled an old-fashioned, even slightly threadbare, discounted red cotton jacket from a promotional rack and shoved it into my arms. Before I could speak, Mom pressed my hand with a pained expression. “Willow, don’t mind the old style of this jacket, it’s pure natural cotton, very breathable. Those fancy down jackets might look good, but they’re all synthetic and duck down, full of allergens. Your body is delicate, what if you get sick wearing them? Listen to Mom, we’ll take this one.” I looked at my ridiculous, ugly reflection in the mirror, then at my dazzling brother next to me, and, suppressing a pang of sadness, nodded. “Thank you, Mom.” In the past, I would have been touched by Mom’s thoughtfulness. But now, I only felt that red cotton jacket was an unshakeable layer of humiliation. While shopping for New Year’s groceries, the candy aisle in the supermarket was piled high with colorful mountains of sweets. Asher’s eyes instantly lit up. While Mom was choosing melon seeds, he grabbed a handful of crisp candies and shoved them into his pocket. But I saw it, and Mom saw it too. “Smack!” Asher stumbled back from Mom’s blow, covering his face as he looked up in disbelief. “Take out the candy!” Mom shrieked hysterically. “Who told you to take candy? If you bring these home, will your sister see them and crave them? With her condition, craving can be deadly!” “How can you be so selfish! You have no sympathy! The whole family is sacrificing for your sister, and here you are, secretly hiding candy to eat! Do you have any conscience?!” The elderly shoppers around us began to whisper. “This mother has it so hard.” “Yes, and this younger brother is so thoughtless, he doesn’t consider his family at all.” “What selfless parental love, really. To accommodate her daughter’s feelings, even her healthy child has to give up sugar. This mother is truly great.” Listening to the praise from those around her, Mom’s anger transformed into a tragic, saintly glow. She wiped away tears, basking in everyone’s sympathy. Meanwhile, Asher stood in the center of the crowd, his face flushed crimson with shame and fury. He stared intently at me, his eyes wishing they could tear me apart on the spot. Back home, as soon as Mom went into the kitchen to cook, Asher grabbed my hair and roughly dragged me to the balcony. It was the dead of winter, there was no heating on the balcony, and the wind seeping through the glass panes cut at my face like knives. Asher stood in the warm living room, separated by the glass door, his expression distorted. “Mom says your body is delicate and can’t have sugar? Fine, then you shouldn’t use the heater either! The heater is for living people!” “If you freeze to death, the family won’t have to buy medicine for you anymore. The money saved will be enough for me to eat candy for a lifetime!” I huddled into a ball in the cold wind. That so-called old cotton jacket offered no warmth, and the biting wind instantly pierced through my bones. Inside the living room, the television played festive New Year’s programs, and the aroma of food wafted faintly, while I, like an abandoned dog, gradually lost feeling in my hands and feet, and my consciousness began to blur. It wasn’t until Mom came out with the dishes, saw me on the balcony, and cried out in alarm, opening the door and dragging me inside. I thought Mom would punish Asher. But she didn’t. She just called Asher, who was filled with malice, and me, who was shivering from the cold, together. She took out a thick ledger from a drawer, filled with densely packed numbers. “Look! All of you, look! This is how much money we’ve spent in the past eighteen years to treat Willow’s illness!” “Imported medicine, special nutritional powder, regular check-ups… which one isn’t an astronomical figure? For this money, Mom has scrimped and saved, not even daring to buy a decent piece of clothing for herself!” Mom pointed at the numbers, her eyes red as she spoke to Asher. “Son, don’t blame Mom for being strict with you. Our family is poor because of your sister’s illness. Mom doesn’t let you eat sugar because she’s afraid of triggering her, afraid she’ll get sick and we’ll have to spend money again! Our family really can’t afford it anymore!” “If you want to hate, then hate this damned fate! Don’t ever hate your sister, she doesn’t want to be a burden on us either!” Mom hugged Asher, weeping inconsolably, as if she were the most helpless, long-suffering mother in the world. I was wrapped in a blanket, my teeth still chattering, but my heart had completely turned cold. Sure enough, Asher picked up the ledger and looked at me, his eyes completely devoid of understanding, only a deeper, heavier hatred. It was a hatred that wished to get rid of me immediately, that wished I would drop dead so he and this family could finally be free!

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After I beat up the fake heiress, my brothers threw me into a psych ward. When I finally got out, I was exceptionally well-behaved. If my brothers told me to go East, I didn’t even dare glance West. But why did the fake heiress suddenly become even more well-behaved than me? Dr. Keller always told me: if they don’t throw the first punch, I can’t hit back. That’s the basic code of conduct for a psychiatric patient. Huh? What a joke. Making someone throw the first punch? That’s easy. I have a million ways to make that happen. 1 The day my second brother, Liam, came to pick me up from the asylum, I was wearing a babydoll top and denim overalls. My hands were obediently folded in front of me, and my eyes were cast downward. All traces of my former arrogance were completely wiped clean. Liam looked me up and down and finally spoke, sounding satisfied. “Do you know what you did wrong?” I nodded obediently and recited the exact script Dr. Keller had drilled into me. “I’m sorry, Liam. I was jealous of Chloe, and that’s why I paid those thugs to bully her. I was wrong. I’ll never do it again.” Just the right amount of grievance. Just the right amount of remorse. Eyes brimming with tears, but so full of shame that I didn’t dare let them fall. I had spent a long time practicing this exact look, modeling it perfectly after Chloe. Sure enough, Liam bought it. He raised his noble hand and patted my head like he was bestowing a grand charity. “Good girl. If you hadn’t gone so far this time, Arthur wouldn’t have locked you up in the psych ward.” “From now on, get along with Chloe.” I mimicked Chloe again, nuzzling gently into his palm. Just as I expected, Liam smiled, genuinely pleased. Neither of us noticed Dr. Evans, the asylum director, standing nearby, violently shuddering. I tilted my head and shot him a sideways glance. Cold sweat immediately beaded on his forehead. “M-Mr. Sterling, if there’s nothing else you need, I’ll leave you to your sibling reunion.” Liam nodded. “You did a good job. The Sterling family’s investment funds will be wired over shortly.” “Th-thank you!” After thanking him, Dr. Evans hastily turned to practically sprint away. “The Director sure is quick on his feet…” I commented softly. Thud. Dr. Evans face-planted onto the pavement. Then, under Liam’s bewildered gaze, he scrambled up and ran for his life, looking as if the devil himself was chasing him. “Liam, can I go home now?” Seeing my docile expression, Liam nodded. But he didn’t forget to warn me, “If you ever bully Chloe again, even if Arthur doesn’t lock you up, I will!” “Okay.” I nodded obediently. 2 When we arrived at that familiar, massive estate, I stopped at the front door and didn’t dare step inside. Chloe had told me this was her home. The parents were hers. The brothers were hers. I was the outsider. How could I just walk into someone else’s home? It wasn’t until Liam said, “Come inside,” that I put on a flattered, timid smile. “Can I really?” Just as I hoped, Liam felt a pang of guilt. His eyes even reddened slightly. But remembering my past viciousness, he quickly pushed the emotion down. Not long after, my oldest brother, Arthur, arrived home with Chloe. “Arthur, I brought Harper back,” Liam said. “Has it already been six months?” Fast? I lived a fate worse than death in that place. Every day felt like a year, yet they thought the time flew by. “Yeah. Dr. Evans specifically called to remind me this morning. I completely forgot. Turns out we actually left her in there three days extra.” Arthur didn’t seem to care, acting as if leaving me to rot in that hellhole was no big deal. He scrutinized me with a harsh, judging gaze. I immediately gave him an obedient half-bow. Seeing me, Chloe looked absolutely terrified and quickly hid behind Arthur. Arthur patted her shoulder reassuringly. “Don’t be scared, I’m here. If she dares lay a finger on you again, I promise you, she will never set foot outside that asylum until the day she dies!” Arthur glared at me like I was his mortal enemy. I quietly rubbed my chest. So… even a psychiatric patient’s heart can still hurt, huh? “I’m very good now. I’m very obedient,” I said, my eyes sincere, looking slightly pathetic. Arthur looked at me with pure disgust and led Chloe away to wash up for dinner. 3 Dinner, unsurprisingly, consisted entirely of Chloe’s favorite dishes. Suppressing her supposed “fear,” Chloe proactively placed a piece of crispy fried pork into my bowl. “Here, Harper, have some.” Pepper coating Szechuan peppercorns, and the peppercorns themselves marinated in mango juice… This piece of pork perfectly hit every single one of my severe food allergies. Arthur gently rubbed her back. “Chloe, I raised you myself. You aren’t inferior to anyone, and you don’t need to suck up to anyone!” Chloe lowered her head to eat, tears welling in her eyes. I was genuinely confused. They gave her the best of everything. They even cooked her favorite foods every single day. Why did they always act like she was the one being wronged? Dr. Keller always said: The kid who knows how to put on a show gets the candy. I sat there obediently, staring at the piece of pork, swallowing hard. Then, I asked the question that made all of their faces turn black. “Can… can I eat this?” Arthur: … Liam: … Chloe: (Grinding her teeth). Seeing that no one objected, I obediently picked up my chopsticks and started shoveling food into my mouth. I was starving. I hadn’t eaten normal food in so long. In that moment, I wanted to swallow the entire table whole. Seeing my completely unrefined, ravenous eating habits, my brothers looked disgusted. “Harper, did they not feed you in there?” Liam asked. I shook my head. “They did! But there wasn’t any meat in the slop buckets…” Slam! Arthur threw his chopsticks down. “Harper, who the hell are you trying to guilt-trip?!” “That facility is heavily funded by the Sterling family! Even if Dr. Evans had the guts, he would never dare abuse you like that!” “If you’re going to lie, at least make it believable!” He wouldn’t dare? Arthur, have you ever seen a bed of nails? Have you ever experienced electroshock therapy? Have you ever been forced to fight stray dogs for a scrap of food? Of course, Arthur hadn’t seen any of that. But Chloe, safely tucked under his wing, smiled. If she hadn’t kept her head down, her grin would have reached her ears. I stood there, trembling and completely lost, not daring to speak, looking at furious Arthur with wide, terrified eyes. Liam frowned and tried to calm him down. “Arthur, Harper just got back today. Can’t we just have one peaceful family dinner?” Arthur forced his anger down, his disgust for me only growing deeper. Liam sighed helplessly and handed me a clean pair of chopsticks. “If you’re hungry, eat as much as you want.” I smiled sweetly. “Thank you, Liam.” Liam’s pupils contracted. Did his sister know how to smile? And could she smile this beautifully? Why hadn’t he seen it once in all these years? So… as long as he treated her a little better, she would smile this sweetly and call him her brother… For a split second, Liam felt something squeeze his heart. Arthur’s eyes flickered too, but it didn’t change his attitude toward me. 4 Just as I finished washing up and was about to get into bed, Chloe walked in. “Harper, I brought you some warm milk.” She walked in without knocking. I took it obediently. “Thank you.” Those two words had never, ever come out of my mouth when addressing her. Because every time she played nice, there was a trap waiting. Chloe froze for a second, then started laughing. “Wow, you really have become quite the obedient little dog.” The next second, her hand “slipped,” spilling the entire glass of milk all over my pajamas. “Oh no! Harper, why didn’t you hold it steady?” Her eyes gleamed maliciously, but I didn’t move an inch. She then picked up the only gifts my two brothers had ever given me—the year I first returned to the family—and threw them straight into the trash can. I still didn’t move. She looked around the room, her eyes finally landing on the framed photo on my desk. It was the only photo I had with my biological parents. This time, I moved. I grabbed her wrist. Chloe finally smiled triumphantly. With her other hand, she snatched the frame and smashed it violently onto the floor. My eyes burned with fury. “Ooh, are you mad? Hit me if you dare!” Naked, blatant provocation! As a psychiatric patient, the very first thing I learned was how to follow the rules. I raised my arm and slapped her across the face with everything I had. Chloe was completely stunned by the slap. It took her several seconds to start her performance. “Arthur! Liam! Help me!” Both brothers charged into the room instantly, pulling Chloe behind them, glaring at me like they wanted to kill me. “Harper! Have you lost your damn mind?!” I folded my hands obediently in front of me. “She told me to hit her.” Chloe covered her face, sobbing hysterically. “I just came in to bring her milk, and I saw her throwing the gifts you gave her into the trash! And then she tried to rip up the photo of Mom and Dad! I tried to stop her, and she just hit me… sob…” The gifts were in the trash. The photo was on the floor, the frame completely shattered. The evidence was irrefutable. I couldn’t deny it. “Harper, do you still hate us this much? Do you still hate the Sterling family? You being switched at birth wasn’t Mom and Dad’s fault, and it wasn’t the Sterling family’s fault…” Liam looked profoundly disappointed. Hate? Probably. I wandered the streets for ten years. My “adoptive” parents trained me to beg for money. When I got older, I ran with street kids, stealing food just to survive. Getting beaten half to death was a regular occurrence. I struggled to survive at the absolute bottom of society, living like a cockroach. But the Sterling family? They treated my replacement like an absolute princess. How could I not hate them? I hated them for not finding me sooner. I hated them for losing me. I hated that after losing me, they just went and adopted a replacement… I also hated that every time Chloe plotted against me, they never believed me. They always stood by her side. “If I had known you would turn out like this, I would have just let you get beaten to death on the streets!” Arthur finally said what was really on his mind. I looked up at him, my expression shifting back to eerily docile. “Chloe threw the gifts in the trash. Chloe smashed the photo…” “You…” If my brothers had beards, they would be bristling with rage right now. I pulled out my discharge certificate and showed it to them. “I swear on my honor as a certified psychiatric patient, I am not lying!” Psychiatric patient? My brothers’ pupils contracted. Liam quickly snatched the certificate from my hand, his fingers trembling. “This… this looks real…” I nodded. “Dr. Keller said that as psychiatric patients, we must be docile and obedient in the outside world if we want to survive.” Arthur glanced at the certificate and suddenly let out a cold scoff. Clearly, he didn’t believe me. “Docile? Obedient? Fine. Then pack your things and move out of this room right now. Let Chloe live here!” This room was the “princess suite” my parents had personally designed for me. My mom designed it, my dad oversaw the renovations. It was the cozy little sanctuary they built to welcome me back to the Sterling family. Chloe had tried to steal it countless times before, and I always fought her tooth and nail to keep it. But today… “Okay.” I nodded obediently and immediately started packing my meager belongings. Arthur, Liam, and even Chloe froze. They all knew this room was my absolute bottom line. When I actually walked out, Chloe looked thrilled. She could finally move into this room legitimately! But on the surface, she timidly tugged at Arthur’s sleeve. “Arthur, can I really stay here?” Arthur’s face looked a bit grim. “If she can live here, why can’t you?” Turning around, he clearly wasn’t done punishing me. He pointed to the tiny storage closet downstairs. “From now on, you sleep in there.” I nodded obediently again and cheerfully carried my blanket inside. Arthur’s arm froze mid-air before he could even put it down. He watched with a thunderous expression as I set up my blanket in the cramped, windowless space. I could feel his chest practically vibrating with rage. I was genuinely confused. Isn’t this what you wanted? Why are you so mad? Seeing me about to lie down and go to sleep, he spoke again: “Wait!” I stood perfectly still. The next second, the housekeeper brought in a bucket of ice water and dumped it directly onto my blanket. “Now you can sleep.” Arthur stared at me, his face devoid of emotion. He was absolutely certain I wouldn’t be able to tolerate this. He was waiting for me to snap and expose my “true” nature. Unfortunately for him, he was going to be disappointed. I lay down fully clothed in the soaking wet, freezing bed, and within minutes, I was snoring softly and sweetly. Arthur: !!! 5 When I woke up again, I was lying in a comfortable guest bedroom. Liam was sitting by my bed, muttering to himself, “How long has it been since she actually slept? She’s been asleep for ten hours straight…” Seeing my eyes open, he looked at me with deep concern. “Harper, are you really…” He couldn’t bring himself to say it, but I knew what he meant. “I am a psychiatric patient, but I’m not insecure about it at all.” Liam: … Arthur, of course, wasn’t going to believe me that easily. He tested me continuously for half a month. If he told me to go East, I absolutely wouldn’t dare look West. If he told me to eat rice, I absolutely wouldn’t dare touch the chicken. He even placed a fat, wriggling grub—my absolute biggest fear—directly onto my hand. I shook uncontrollably from terror, but I didn’t dare shake the bug off. Arthur’s face grew darker and darker. Finally, one day, he couldn’t hold back and asked Chloe, “Did you really do all those things?” Chloe had never faced this kind of questioning or grievance before. That very day, she sought out the housekeeper to scheme. “Doesn’t your son want to buy a bigger house?” “Get this done, and the money on this card is yours!” The housekeeper’s eyes gleamed with greed. Over the years, the money she had squeezed out of tormenting me was enough to buy her a house already! Highly motivated, the housekeeper snuck into my room that night and used her signature move—viciously pinching me awake. “Don’t make a sound!” I was very obedient. I didn’t make a sound. I just stared at her innocently with wide eyes. Perhaps my submissiveness gave her courage. The housekeeper let out a sinister chuckle. “Get up. Take your clothes off.” I obediently sat up, but I absolutely refused to take my clothes off. Dr. Keller always said: A girl must maintain her boundaries, no matter the circumstances. The housekeeper started getting angry. She pulled out a long sewing needle. “Do you remember how this feels? If you don’t take them off, I’ll stab you to death!” I tilted my head, recalling some very unpleasant memories. Once, I had a terrible fever. My brothers took Chloe on a ski trip and left me, burning up at 102 degrees, in the care of this housekeeper. I was too sick to get out of bed. For three days, she didn’t give me a single bite of food or a drop of water. I almost died of starvation and dehydration. In my feverish delirium, right as I was about to fall asleep, she would stab me with a needle… That time, I really almost died. When my brothers came back, I told them about her abuse. Arthur slapped me hard across the face. I found out later that while I was suffering in hell, the housekeeper had been calling them every single day, sobbing about how unreasonable I was, how I was physically abusing her, and even showing them fake injuries she made on her own arms… That was the day I realized my place in their hearts was lower than a hired servant’s. “Scared now? Are you going to listen?” The housekeeper’s fat face twisted into a grotesque sneer. Dr. Keller said that people at the bottom of the hierarchy, who are used to suppressing their true nature and acting submissive, become exceptionally vicious the second they get the chance to dominate someone else. Dr. Keller also said: There is no need to show mercy to vicious people. The next second, I grabbed her by the hair, smashed her head violently against the wall, grabbed the hand holding the needle, and plunged it deep into her own thigh. A pig-like squeal echoed through the entire mansion. “Shh, you can’t do that. Disturbing the peace means you get locked in the water dungeon…” But she didn’t seem to understand human language. I frowned, grabbed her by the hair, and dragged her out the door. My brothers were jolted awake and rushed downstairs. “H-Harper, what are you doing?!” Liam’s face went completely white with terror. “She’s too loud. She’s so loud I can’t sleep. Where’s my thirty-meter machete? I need to cut her tongue out.” A freezing chill shot straight from Liam’s feet to his scalp. He was absolutely terrified and frantically tried to stop me. “There’s no machete!” “Harper, how about I help you throw her outside? If we throw her out, she won’t be loud anymore!” I tilted my head. “Is that how it works?” Liam had to coax and plead to finally rescue the housekeeper’s head from my grip. He threw the housekeeper out the front door, and surprisingly, it really was quiet again! I went back to my room, got into bed, and went to sleep. Soon, the sound of my sweet, soft snoring drifted from the room. The remaining people stood there, staring at each other in shock. The entire mansion descended into a deathly, suffocating silence.

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When I was five years old, my mother, carrying a stuttering child like me, married into the ridiculously wealthy Sterling family. Everyone whispered that my mother was a master manipulator, a gold digger who had snagged the jackpot. They all bet that it wouldn’t be long before the Sterling family chewed us up and spit out our bones. The wedding day arrived, and the venue was packed with the city’s elite. Tucked away in a small side room, a group of snobby little rich girls cornered me. They pulled sharply at my collar, choking me, laughing and calling me a “mute little burden.” No one believed my new stepfather would ever stick his neck out for me. But the very next day, my stepfather stood before his peers and announced: “Chloe Sterling is my youngest daughter. She is not mute. And she is an equal heir to the Sterling fortune.” 01 “Are you a mute?” Caleb Sterling asked, leaning down to look at me. I wasn’t a mute. I just had a severe stutter. When other kids my age were chatting in full sentences, I could still only manage single syllables. Realizing something was wrong, my mom took me to specialists. The doctors said it was partly genetic, and partly because I was born prematurely. Most kids with stutters gradually improve with the help of a speech therapist. But I didn’t. In fact, it got worse. It got so bad that eventually, I refused to even try making a single sound. I hated talking. I hated the way people looked at me when I tried. I wasn’t intentionally ignoring him or refusing to call him “brother.” I knew I was supposed to speak today. But my throat just closed up. The harder I tried, the more panicked I became, until huge, silent tears started rolling down my cheeks. My mom rushed over, pulling me into her arms in a panic. She kissed my forehead, cooing gently, “Oh, baby, don’t cry. Caleb was just making a joke. Our little Chloe isn’t a mute; she just gets nervous and the words get stuck, right?” My stepfather’s face turned stern as he looked at Caleb. “Is that how you speak to your sister? Apologize.” Caleb clearly hadn’t expected his casual comment to make me cry so hard. He stood there, frozen, his handsome face looking a little foolish. His biological sister, Victoria Sterling, shot him a look of pure schadenfreude. Caleb opened his mouth, and the voice that came out was barely louder than a mosquito: “I’m sorry. I was wrong.” My stepfather frowned, completely unsatisfied. “Louder!” My mom, not wanting to cause a massive scene on her very first day in the house, gently patted my stepfather’s arm. “It’s fine, it’s fine. The baby heard her brother apologize, didn’t you, sweetie?” I rubbed my swollen eyes and nodded as hard as I could. That evening, my mom and stepfather had to entertain hundreds of VIP guests and business partners, so my stepfather asked Victoria to keep an eye on me. She was about seven or eight years older than me. She wore a beautiful pale-yellow princess dress and a small pearl tiara nestled in her dark hair. Her skin was porcelain white. I had never seen a girl as pretty as her in my entire life. She brought out a pile of toys and patiently, gently showed me how to play with them. Knowing I had a stutter, she didn’t try to force me to talk. After a while, her phone rang. She walked over to the furthest window to answer it. Since I was a baby, I’ve had incredibly sharp senses. I could hear whispers from across a room and see the tiny veins on a leaf from a distance. Only my mom knew about this. Victoria obviously didn’t know, otherwise she never would have taken that call in the same room as me. The caller was her aunt. Caleb and Victoria’s biological mother had passed away from cancer years ago, and since then, they had maintained a very close relationship with their mother’s sister. “Vicky, how is that woman? Has she shown her true colors yet? With a face like that, she’s clearly a seductress. I knew from the start she was bad news. She bewitched your father so thoroughly he married her after only knowing her for a few months.” “A divorced woman with a kid in tow… managing to pull off a stunt like this? I am so worried about you and Caleb.” “She’s no good, and neither is that daughter of hers. You and Caleb need to make sure you don’t let them win you over.” Victoria had her back to me, so I couldn’t see her expression. I just heard her hum in agreement a few times before asking how her aunt’s business in Europe was going and when she would be back. “If I wasn’t tied up with this merger, I would be there right now to put those two in their place and back you up. Ugh.” “Did anything happen today?” Victoria hesitated for a second before recounting what had happened with Caleb earlier. Her aunt let out a cold, sharp laugh through the phone. “That mother-daughter duo is establishing dominance. Forcing the heir of the Sterling family to apologize to them on day one? Just wait until she pops out a son for your father. Who do you think will really be running that house?” “They say when you get a stepmother, you get a stepfather. It’s true. Vicky, you need to warn your brother. Watch your backs around those two.” “My brother and I will be careful,” Victoria promised. 02 My mom is never going to have another baby, I muttered silently in my head. That was an agreement she and my stepfather had made before the wedding. I had overheard them talking about it. Victoria hung up the phone and walked back over to me. The look in her eyes had shifted; the gentle warmth from earlier was gone. She sighed and said, “Chloe, stay here and play. I’m going to change my dress.” I nodded, knowing she was actually going to find Caleb. Just a few minutes later, the door was violently pushed open. Three girls, roughly Victoria’s age, marched in. They were all dripping in expensive, flashy designer dresses. “Where’s Victoria? Didn’t they say she was in here?” The girls scanned the room. They didn’t find Victoria, but they did spot me sitting on the rug with the toys. “Who is this kid? Hey, where’s Victoria? Do you know?” I sat on the sofa as the three of them swaggered over, looking down at me like I was dirt on their shoes. I pressed my lips tightly together, shook my head, and pointed toward the door Victoria had just left through. “Why aren’t you talking? Whose kid are you? Why are you in here all alone?” one of the girls asked, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. “This is the family’s private suite. What’s your connection to Victoria?” “Hey… look at her dress. It looks almost identical to the one Victoria was wearing. It’s from the same couture line.” “I heard Victoria’s new stepmom dragged a kid into the marriage. It couldn’t be you, could it?” The moment they put the pieces together, they covered their mouths and burst into cruel, mocking laughter, acting like I was the funniest joke in the world. Their laughter made my stomach churn. I dropped my toy, slid off the sofa, and headed for the door to find my mom. “Hey! Where do you think you’re going, little burden?” One of them grabbed the back of my collar and violently yanked me backward. They didn’t realize how hard they pulled. The collar cut sharply into my throat. My eyes rolled back, and a strangled, panicked whine escaped my lips. Right at that exact moment, Victoria walked back in. Seeing them practically choking me, she gasped and sprinted across the room, snatching me away from them. “Chloe! Are you okay?!” The three girls jumped in surprise, immediately backpedaling. “We didn’t do it on purpose!” I coughed violently, patting Victoria’s hand to let her know I was breathing. Seeing the involuntary tears streaming down my face from the choking, Victoria was furious. “You are guests in this house! You made my sister cry! What the hell are you doing in my room?!” “We told you, it was an accident! Stop yelling at us!” one of the girls snapped back indignantly. “So she really is your sister, huh? Why didn’t she make a single sound? Is she a mute or something?” It was obvious that these three girls weren’t exactly best friends with Victoria. Victoria glared at them. “That is none of your business! You have absolutely zero manners. Get out of my room!” After being choked and yanked around like a ragdoll, a normal child would have been screaming and crying. The three girls looked at me with weird, twisted expressions, and then started snickering again. “Victoria, I actually feel bad for you. Your dad marries a gold digger, and she brings a defective little sister into the house! It’s pathetic.” “In our circle, you don’t see many kids with handicaps, do you?” “You’ve always acted so arrogant and superior at school, Victoria. Let’s see how high and mighty you act now with this following you around.” Victoria held me tighter, taking a deep breath. “Is this how your parents raised you? Whether my sister has a disability or not, who gave you the right to look down on people with disabilities?!” “There are security cameras in this room. I’m going to have the butler pull the footage and send it directly to your parents.” “And you better remember to come back to my house and formally apologize to my sister.” 03 The very next day, all three sets of parents dragged their daughters to the Sterling estate to apologize to me. My stepfather sat me right next to him on the main sofa. His expression was dead serious, radiating a terrifying authority. He looked at the three nervously smiling families, cleared his throat, and announced: “Chloe Sterling is my youngest daughter. Whether she speaks or not, when the time comes, she will receive an equal share of the Sterling corporate shares and inheritance.” Everyone in the room froze in shock. My mom, sitting on his other side, gasped and grabbed his hand. Looking at her wide eyes, I realized my stepfather hadn’t discussed this with her beforehand at all. “Honey…” My stepfather gave her a reassuring nod. The faces of the three girls were much easier to read. They stared at me in absolute horror, then nervously glanced behind us at Caleb and Victoria, their expressions filled with a mix of shock and mockery. I peeked over my shoulder too. Caleb and Victoria were staring at me with incredibly complex expressions. I pretended not to notice and quickly looked forward again. My stepfather gave his two older children a brief, unreadable glance before turning back to the guests. “I strongly suggest you focus on raising your children properly. With behavior like this, I wouldn’t dare let the future heirs of the Sterling empire associate with them.” The three sets of parents looked absolutely terrified, forcefully pushing their daughters’ heads down to apologize to me again and again. I didn’t want them staying here any longer, knowing their presence was only further aggravating Caleb and Victoria. I also knew these apologies were entirely forced by my stepfather’s power, not genuine remorse. So, I looked up at my stepfather and patted my stomach. “Baby… hungry.” The guests and the Sterling siblings jumped again. They had probably been utterly convinced I was completely mute! My stepfather delivered his final sentence. “Chloe Sterling will be attending the prestigious Vanguard Academy alongside her brother and sister. I expect her school life to be pleasant and peaceful.” “Show them out.” Vanguard Academy was famous across the state. It was the premier incubator for the elite children of City D. Every single student who graduated from Vanguard went on to become a titan in their respective industries. Because of the severe bullying I had endured in kindergarten before, I was terrified of going back to school. I sat in the back of the Maybach, looking miserable. But I didn’t realize that my stepfather had used his immense wealth and power to skip me straight into the first grade. Standing outside the classroom door, my mom kissed my cheek. “Go on, sweetie. Don’t be scared. Mom and Dad will always have your back.” When the homeroom teacher introduced me, she specifically mentioned that I “wasn’t very talkative,” and thoughtfully seated me next to the class president. The class president was a girl with a short bob and huge, bright eyes. She curiously stuck her hand out toward me. “Hi! I’m Samantha Vance.” I shook her hand and gave her a sweet, shy smile. All the teachers knew about my “special situation,” so they rarely called on me during class. During recess, since I didn’t know anyone yet, no one really approached me either. And just like that, my first week of school passed peacefully. No one knew I had a stutter. “She is so quiet. She can literally go a whole day without saying a single word.” “Now that you mention it, have you ever actually heard her voice?” “I haven’t. But Samantha talked to her.” The only word I had ever said to Samantha was “Thanks.” Because the elementary school let out at a different time than the middle school, I rarely rode home in the same car as Caleb and Victoria. But today, they both showed up at the elementary wing to pick me up. I had no idea they were basically celebrities at Vanguard. The reaction from my classmates told me everything I needed to know about their popularity. “Oh my god! Caleb and Victoria Sterling are your older brother and sister?! Chloe, why didn’t you tell us?!” “I heard they’re ranked number one in their grade again this year! And Victoria is representing Vanguard at an international violin competition!” “I would die for their autographs! Chloe, can you help me get them?” “They’re literally the king and queen of Vanguard. No wonder Chloe is so pretty.” I looked exactly like my mom. That was the one thing I was most proud of. 04 From that day on, my popularity skyrocketed. Every kid in class crowded around my desk, desperately asking for gossip about Caleb and Victoria. Even if they badgered me for ten minutes and I only gave them a one or two-word answer, they didn’t think I was being rude. They thought I was being “aloof and cool.” They thought that was exactly how a member of the Sterling family should act. Samantha helped me fend them off, using her authority as class president to order them to stop bothering me while I was studying. And just like that, my secret remained safe. It wasn’t that I was intentionally trying to deceive everyone. I just couldn’t bear the thought of them looking at me through the warped, judgmental lens of my stutter again. When the Summer Gala rolled around, my homeroom teacher asked if I was interested in performing. I frantically shook my head. The teacher looked surprised. “Your brother and sister are always so heavily involved in the social events and performances. I assumed you would enjoy it too. Vanguard’s galas attract a lot of major media outlets and directors from the top arts academies. A lot of A-list talent gets scouted from Vanguard. The competition for performance slots is incredibly fierce.” I kept shaking my head. They probably all assumed I was a pampered little princess groomed for the spotlight since birth, just like Victoria. But I wasn’t. I didn’t have a single special talent. I had no business being on a stage. As I walked out of the teacher’s office, Samantha suddenly appeared beside me. “Chloe, can you do me a huge favor? I really want to perform. I can play the piano.” I stared at her silently. “Chloe, listen to me. I know you have a speech impediment. You’re not being ‘aloof’ by not talking, you’re just terrified people will make fun of your stutter. If you recommend me to the teacher, whether I get the slot or not, I swear on my life I will keep your secret forever. Please?” A crushing wave of depression hit me. I pressed my lips tightly together. When did I expose myself? How did she know? I gripped the hem of my skirt, thinking it over. Finally, I nodded at Samantha, turned around, and walked back into the office. “T-t-t-teacher… I… I… r-recommend… S-s-samantha.” By the time I forced the sentence out, my face was burning crimson. The teacher knew about my condition. She gently patted my head. “Chloe is such a good girl. Your voice is beautiful. Will you try to talk to me a little more from now on?” I stood there, frozen, my face practically on fire. “Samantha actually nominated herself earlier. Now that she has your recommendation, I’ll definitely give it serious consideration. Head back to class now, Chloe!” Samantha was waiting for me in the hallway. She looked at me with eager, glowing eyes. “Chloe! How did it go? What did she say?” Since she already knew about my stutter, there was no point in hiding it anymore. “T-teacher… s-said… she’ll… th-think about it.” I kept my head down, completely missing the flash of disgust that crossed Samantha’s eyes. She jumped up and down excitedly. “Thank you, Chloe! It’s official: you are my absolute best friend at Vanguard!” I have a friend now? That phrase sparked a tiny, fragile flame of happiness in my chest. Samantha got the performance slot she wanted. And she kept her promise, acting like a loyal bodyguard. Whenever any classmate tried to talk to me for more than a minute, she would swoop in and chase them away with a few sharp words. Over time, she became the only person around me. Everyone else started giving me a wide berth. A few times, she mentioned her parents were busy and couldn’t pick her up, asking if my family’s driver could drop her off. I figured it was a small favor and the driver wouldn’t mind, so I agreed. I never once considered what these “small favors” were doing to Samantha’s ego, or what she was doing with them. Until one day, Caleb and Victoria showed up at our classroom door, their faces like thunderclouds. “Who the hell is going around telling people my sister is a stupid, rich target who’s easy to manipulate?!” Samantha, whose hand was currently buried in my backpack fishing for my imported chocolates, froze. She looked up at them in sheer panic. 05 Caleb and Victoria marched me straight to the homeroom teacher’s office. They left me in the waiting area while they went inside to talk to her. “Chloe is young and incredibly innocent. We expect her teachers to keep a closer eye on her, rather than letting her be blindly used and manipulated by other students.” “Chloe has trauma. She doesn’t like to speak. But that is absolutely no excuse for her to be isolated and targeted by vicious rumors.” The teacher rubbed her temples, letting out a soft sigh. “I’ve been trying to encourage Chloe to interact with the students around her. I’ve rearranged the seating chart multiple times, but she simply refuses to talk.” “And she firmly refused to change desk partners.” “Chloe’s grades are excellent. She’s a brilliant child. But she is incredibly strong-willed. If she doesn’t want to change, it’s very difficult for external factors to force her.” Caleb’s voice was hard. “We will handle speaking to Chloe. But that Samantha girl… you need to deal with her.” Victoria chimed in, “The Vance family is already out there using the Sterling name to secure business deals.” The homeroom teacher at Vanguard Academy was no fool. She gave a solemn nod, absolutely unwilling to lose her prestigious job over this mess. Victoria held my hand as we walked to the car. I looked up at her, and after a long silence, I finally asked, “D-does… e-everyone… kn-know… I… s-stutter?” They both crouched down to my eye level. “Are you sad, Chloe?” I nodded. I knew Samantha was the one who had spread the secret behind my back. She was the only person in the entire school I had interacted with. She told me I was her best friend. And she lied to me. Caleb effortlessly scooped me up into his arms. “Chloe, you need to understand something. You are a daughter of the Sterling family. Whether you stutter, or whether you’re completely mute, you are an existence they can only dream of reaching. They should be begging to be your friend. You never have to compromise yourself for them.” I didn’t understand that. Because of my stutter, my biological parents got divorced. Because of my stutter, my mom and I were thrown out onto the street by my grandparents. In my mind, stuttering was the worst crime in the world. If I didn’t stutter, my mom wouldn’t have had to suffer so much humiliation and pain for me. So I thought it was completely normal for people to mock me. I thought it was normal they didn’t want to be my friends. I thought my stutter made me inherently bad. “With one word from you, Samantha got to perform on the main stage. You let her ride in your Maybach, and she paraded it around school. Everyone was jealous of her. Her parents went around bragging that she was the Sterling heiress’s best friend, and their business partners literally gave them better deals just to get on your good side.” “We saw all of these little tricks, and we didn’t care. But she crossed a massive line when she started badmouthing you behind your back. She called you ‘the little stutterer.’ She called you a ‘burden.’” “A manipulative, two-faced snake like her doesn’t deserve to be your friend,” Victoria said firmly. Samantha was forced to write a formal apology letter and read it aloud three times in front of the entire class. Her face turned beet red, and by the third time, she was sobbing uncontrollably. The very next day, she transferred out of Vanguard Academy. I didn’t have a desk partner anymore, and I felt incredibly depressed. My stepfather and mom heard about the incident, and that afternoon, they personally drove to the school to take all three of us out to a fancy dinner. When the bell rang, it started pouring rain. I hadn’t brought an umbrella. The teacher told me to wait in the lobby while she went to grab one for me. Suddenly, a girl from my class stepped forward. “Teacher, we’re walking the same way. I’ll walk her to the gate!” She popped her umbrella open. “Let’s go. What are you standing there for? You look stupid.” It wasn’t until we reached the school gates and I saw my stepfather’s Bentley that I gathered the courage to speak. “Th-thank… you.” She lifted her chin arrogantly. “Don’t get it twisted, I’m not trying to kiss up to the Sterling family. My family’s business isn’t as massive as yours, but we’re doing just fine.” “Also, your voice is actually really nice. So what if you stutter? Why do you care so much about what other people think? Grow a backbone.” Her name was Mia Thorne, the heiress of the Thorne Corporation. She was incredibly haughty and her words were always blunt and abrasive, which was why she didn’t have many friends either.

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