Author: Momo Chan

When the entertainment industry’s big celebrity “roundup” scandal broke, Tiffany was posting her ‘conquest’ photos on social media.” The caption read: “Battle-hardened, yet still haven’t experienced the feeling of pupils losing focus.” I found it amusing and even shared the gossip with my boyfriend, Adrian. But Adrian stared intently at his phone, his eyes bloodshot. That night, Adrian excused himself, claiming he had to work late. Hours later, the intern updated her “conquest” photos once more. “First ‘pupil focus loss’ experience: accomplished!” This time, the man in the picture had a distinctive red mole on his collarbone. It was identical to Adrian’s. 1. I’m not the type to just stew in silence, so I called Adrian immediately. But after a few “dings,” the call disconnected. I stubbornly tried several more times, each call hung up instantly. I left Adrian a message on our chat app, demanding he call me back right away to explain. But the next moment, I scrolled past two new posts from Tiffany. “Ugh, so annoying. Can some ‘doting wives’ develop a bit of self-sufficiency? Stop calling and disturbing people’s beauty sleep!!” “Called over a dozen times, truly frightening. I bet the doting wife will be kneeling downstairs at my apartment later, begging her husband to come home, right? (Mouth covered in a giggle)” These posts were clearly aimed directly at me. At this point, I didn’t need Adrian to confirm anything. So, I announced our breakup directly on my own social media. “Called my boyfriend, but accidentally woke up his bedmate. I felt truly bad, so I had no choice but to turn my boyfriend into an ex-boyfriend, just so the bedmate could calm down.” Then I messaged Adrian privately: “Unilateral breakup. You’re on your own.” Even though I’d sent the breakup message, a part of me still hoped Adrian would offer an explanation. We’d been childhood friends for over two decades; I didn’t want our relationship to end so ambiguously. A minute after sending the message, Adrian called me back. “Summer, I’m so sorry. My boss was holding us in a meeting, so I had to keep hanging up on you.” “Do you know your breakup message scared me? Are you misunderstanding something?” I didn’t reply, but listened carefully to the background noise on Adrian’s end. There was the sound of typing, and I could faintly hear a man’s voice hyping up his subordinates. “Summer, listen, if you don’t believe me, my colleagues are all working overtime right now. They’ll think I’m slacking if I even call you back.” Seeing I didn’t respond, Adrian immediately held his phone further away. The typing sounds from the phone grew clearer, occasionally mixed with a few grumbles from overworked employees. Could I really have misunderstood? But Tiffany’s posts were too coincidental. Adrian then softly pleaded with me a few more times, seemingly being urged by his colleagues’ glares. After much thought, I decided to wait for Adrian to return home to clear things up. 2. The next morning, Adrian came home, looking exhausted. He had faint dark circles under his eyes, as if he really had worked all night. But seeing me, he still forced a smile, trying to appear energetic. He held up a bag and said, “Summer, haven’t you been wanting to try the pastries from that new bakery? I specifically waited in line to get them. Try them while they’re still warm.” The bag contained pastries from a popular bakery. They were supposedly so popular you had to queue for an hour to get them. My mood brightened a little. Maybe I was just overthinking things. But after opening the box, I paused again. I remembered the bakery’s promotional images showed eight pastries, but there were only six here. The pastries were also no longer warm, and even had some congealed grease on them. They looked like leftovers. Adrian noticed my confusion and explained, “Maybe the bakery was too busy and gave the wrong quantity. And I rushed home, so some of the filling might have leaked, which is why they look like this.” “I’m sorry I couldn’t get my darling Summer the best-looking pastries. It’s my fault.” Adrian resorted to his usual charming act, trying to win me over. But after the events of last night, the alarm bells in my mind wouldn’t stop ringing. I didn’t avoid Adrian. I directly took out my phone to check Tiffany’s updates. Sure enough, just fifteen minutes earlier, Tiffany had uploaded several breakfast photos on another platform. “The man who abandoned his ‘lovesick old lady’ to sleep with me actually queued for an hour this morning to buy me pastries, supposedly from a bakery the old lady always wanted to try but never got to!” The photos clearly showed pastries and popular new items from that very bakery. On the table were used tissues and two sets of cutlery, and there were exactly six leftover pastries in the box. For a moment, I didn’t know whether to be angry or to just smile bitterly. Adrian was willing to queue for an hour for Tiffany, but he couldn’t even bother to buy a full box of pastries to fool me. I placed my phone in front of Adrian, waiting to see what else he would try. Adrian’s face fell. Then, frantically, he reached out to grab my hand, but I pulled away. “Summer, I know what you’re thinking. You think I have something going on with that crazy woman, but I swear I haven’t had any contact with her!” “I really was working overtime last night, all the way until this morning. If you don’t believe me, you should believe my colleagues, right? You’ve met Daniel and Robert before; they can vouch for me!” As he spoke, Adrian called Daniel. The call was answered quickly. Daniel, having heard the gist of the situation, vouched for Adrian wholeheartedly. “Summer, you have to believe Adrian. All of us colleagues know how much he loves you. How could he cheat?” “We worked overtime all night yesterday. I have video proof. If you don’t believe me, I can send you the video.” Adrian also looked at me sincerely, his eyes watery like a large dog afraid of being abandoned. I received the video from Daniel. Everything in the video looked normal; they were indeed working overtime. But Adrian, who briefly flashed by in the video, wasn’t wearing the same clothes as last night. I asked Daniel, “The shooting date of this video isn’t yesterday, is it? Are you really going to use your integrity to cover for Adrian’s lie?” Daniel still tried to argue, but I shut him down with one sentence: “My mother just prayed for me yesterday. The oracle said that anyone who lies to me will have a year of bad luck.” Daniel, originally from a superstitious background, immediately fell silent. 3. Adrian kept trying to explain. But I was focused on only one thing: packing all of Adrian’s clothes into a suitcase and throwing it out the door. I stood at the doorway, gesturing for Adrian to take his things and get out of the apartment. Seeing me so cold-hearted, Adrian also started to get angry. “Summer, do you have to be like this? I’ve explained everything. I have nothing to do with that crazy woman, but you just won’t listen to me and live in your own delusions!” “How many more times do I have to say it? I’m innocent. I never cheated on you!” Faced with his evasions, I said only one word. “Get out—” 4. Adrian and I officially separated. My friends all assumed I was single again, and some even sent me contacts for younger men, telling me to just relax and have some fun. I wasn’t in a hurry to start a new relationship. Adrian and I had known each other for over two decades and been in love for ten years; the impact of that relationship wouldn’t simply vanish overnight. Moreover, Adrian was still relentlessly bothering me, which made me even less inclined to love someone new. Seeing that I was unresponsive, Adrian packed gifts and went to visit my parents. He adopted a humble posture and tearfully complained to my parents for a long time. He claimed that other women were trying to seduce him, and when he refused, they tried to falsely accuse him. After some back and forth, my father actually believed him and urged me to reconcile with him. “Your father heard from Adrian. That woman tried to seduce him, and that’s why she went to such lengths to destroy your relationship. You need to trust Adrian more. You two are going to get married. How can you always be so suspicious of your husband?” I couldn’t be bothered to listen to my father’s old-fashioned nonsense about marital virtues, so I quickly said a few words and hung up. Then I unblocked Adrian, sent him a middle finger emoji, and dragged him back to the block list. Probably thinking that appealing to my parents had worked, Adrian went to my house for several days in a row to drink with my father. After a while, even my mother believed his nonsense and advised me to give him another chance. I was so annoyed that I decided to talk to Adrian in person. Fearing Adrian might try some candlelight dinner, kneeling-to-propose-reconciliation trick, I didn’t schedule a meeting in advance. Instead, I went directly to Adrian’s apartment after work to wait for him. Who knew I’d stumble upon a big surprise shortly after arriving? Adrian walked ahead, his face cold, while a long-haired woman scurried behind him and hugged him. “Tiffany, I told you, don’t come looking for me anymore!” Adrian seemed very angry. He struggled a few times but couldn’t break free from Tiffany’s embrace. Tiffany buried her face in his back, laughing freely: “Adrian, stop pretending. Who was it who said they’d die happy in my arms? How could you forget what you said after just a few days?” Her slender fingers caressed Adrian’s face, then she blew a breath into his ear. “I’m in my safe period today, and I haven’t had dinner. Want to take me to your place for a bit?” Adrian’s face remained grim, but he stopped struggling. Seeing this, Tiffany walked directly in front of him and kissed him. They kissed for a long time, so long that I managed to record two long videos before they finally stopped. Adrian cursed, “Are you that desperate for a man? Can any man just take you home?” Tiffany chuckled, “No, it has to be a man I fancy.” Adrian snarled, “Are you a public transport vehicle?” Tiffany said, “But aren’t I the ‘public transport vehicle’ you love?” The two of them were entwined for so long, they didn’t even notice me standing nearby. Perfect. I didn’t need to talk to Adrian anymore. The footage I had just recorded on my phone would be enough to shut everyone up. Back home, I sent the uncut video to my social media, with the caption: “Two public transport vehicles illegally entered [Apartment Name]—is it a distortion of human nature or the degradation of morality?” 5. Over the next few hours, I received countless messages and calls, all wanting to extract new gossip from me. A few friends even created a group chat to furiously denounce Adrian, with even his childhood bedwetting being cited as a sign of his scoundrel nature. My mom called too, asking, “Summer, did Adrian really do something like that?” I sighed, “Absolutely. I listened to your advice and wanted to talk to him properly, but when I went to his apartment building, I stumbled upon this.” “Ugh, Mom, I feel so exhausted, I don’t want to love anymore…” I deliberately adopted a depressed tone, which made my mom scold my dad, telling him not to consider Adrian, that scoundrel, as a son-in-law anymore. Over the next few days, the incident’s popularity didn’t wane, even spreading to old alumni groups. Because of this, Adrian, who had been kept in the dark by mutual friends, found out. He called, trying to get me to delete the video and clear his name. “Summer, I don’t know when you got to my apartment, but that day I was really rejecting Tiffany. She forced a kiss on me. I was the one being molested.” Banking on the blurry audio in the video, Adrian assumed I hadn’t heard their explicit flirting, so he tried to fool me like an idiot. “Adrian, stop treating everyone like fools. You’re a young man, 6 feet 1 and 155 pounds, and you’re telling me you were helpless against a frail woman’s molestation?” “You might as well openly admit you enjoyed it. At least then I wouldn’t add another mark against you in my mind.” “Summer!” Adrian’s tone was agitated. “Do you know that because of this video, my company’s management has already spoken to me, and my old classmates are all laughing at me behind my back? This was all just a misunderstanding, why do you have to post it online and ruin me?” “Come on, Summer, quickly delete those videos and help me clarify with our classmates.” “Just say I was drunk that day, disoriented, and Tiffany forced a kiss on me. I promise nothing like this will ever happen again. We’ll be good from now on, okay?” I scoffed, “Adrian, did you ‘slip’ into bed with Tiffany too? Stop feigning sincerity. Even a dog’s bark is more believable than you.” At this point, Adrian dropped his act of being a devoted partner and roared furiously: “Summer! We were together for ten years, how could you stab me in the back like this?” Even through the phone, I could feel Adrian’s rage. Yes, everything I did was indeed meant to spite him. He thought I disregarded our past affection, but did he ever consider my feelings when he was fooling around with Tiffany? If I were a lovesick fool, I’d probably be in agony right now. “Adrian, I merely told everyone the truth. Is that considered a betrayal?” “Let me tell you what a betrayal is: a betrayal is you lying to me to go mess around with Tiffany. A betrayal is you disregarding our twenty years of friendship, acting like a public transport vehicle while still expecting me to be your sucker and marry you.” Due to his guilt, Adrian unconsciously raised his voice: “Summer! I just made a mistake any man might make! Why are you so heartless? Do you have to completely ruin me?” “I’m not ruining you; you’re ruining yourself. But don’t overthink it. Things like AIDS or syphilis probably won’t be so unlucky as to infect you. The probability is likely zero.” With that, I intended to hang up, but Adrian delivered one last threat. “Fine, Summer, don’t you dare regret this! You’re just jealous that Tiffany attracts men, aren’t you? Then I’ll be with her, and make you, this ‘man-hater,’ look even more pathetic!” Adrian clearly didn’t realize his threat had no effect on me. Losing his love was like a shark losing a chicken bone. For a while after, Adrian, to spite me, would constantly flaunt his relationship with Tiffany in various ways. He not only posted intimate photos and gift photos of them, but also shared pictures of the ultra-thin condoms they used. To ensure I saw them, Adrian even created a new account and paid for promotional ads. Tiffany also boldly declared on her social media: “It’s 2024, and I can’t believe there are still such old-fashioned ‘old maid’ wives out there. She got dumped by a man, and now she’s taking it out on another beautiful woman (eye roll) (eye roll)” “So what if I’m a ‘thousand-man slayer’? Are you jealous? Just say it. Don’t snoop and take pictures like a cockroach in the shadows. But it’s all good now~ The little cockroach’s darling husband is now my forty-ninth boyfriend. The wife must be crying her eyes out in the restroom~ (smile) (confetti)” This prompted several mutual friends to send me screenshots, asking if they had lost their minds. I replied: “Perhaps their brains are rotting.”

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1 A month after my mother’s funeral, my father brought his mistress home. I lost it—screamed, cried, and hurled a heavy crystal glass at her and her daughter. The mistress played the delicate damsel, clutching her head and leaning on my father, assuring him she was fine. That enraged him. For the first time, he shouted at me to go to my room. Blazing with fury, I didn’t obey—I stormed out. His face purpled, hand on his chest. “If you leave, don’t come back!” But I did, penniless, burning to make him regret the affair, losing me, and above all, my mother. Outside our mansion, reality was brutal. A high school dropout, I landed menial jobs—scrubbing floors, delivering takeout, maid work—earning barely $3,000 a month, nowhere near enough for a decent place. I shared a cramped, damp basement with strangers. One night, rushing a delivery, I ran a red light. The last thing I saw was a semi‑truck’s grille. I died unclaimed in a morgue, while my father threw a lavish party for his newborn son’s first month. He had his perfect family. I died alone in the dark. Then I opened my eyes—back to the day his mistress and her daughter first entered our home. This time, I didn’t scream or cry. I slipped something into my father’s tea. A little something to make sure he’d never have another child. … CRASH! The crystal glass found its mark, shattering against the mistress’s forehead. She let out a soft cry, clutching the bleeding gash as she crumpled gracefully into my father’s arms. “Ava, are you out of your mind?” he roared, his face contorted with fury. “Have you forgotten every shred of decency I ever taught you?” I stood there, stunned for a moment, the ghost of a semi-truck’s horn still ringing in my ears. It took me a second to realize it had worked. I was back. I was reborn. The mistress, Veronica, clung to his arm, her voice a syrupy whisper. “Richard, darling, don’t be so hard on her. She just lost her mother. It’s only natural she’s upset.” My father’s anger melted into concern for her. He wrapped an arm around Veronica, his glare fixed on me. “You will apologize to your Aunt Veronica this instant!” Tears welled in Veronica’s eyes as she waved a dismissive hand. “No, no, it’s not necessary. I know a girl like Ava looks down on someone like me. Please, don’t fight because of me. I’ll just go.” She turned, making a show of grabbing her suitcase to leave. That was the cue for her daughter, Jessica. She burst into tears. “Mommy, didn’t you say we gave up our apartment? Does that mean we’re homeless again?” That did it. Any hesitation my father had vanished. His expression hardened. He pointed to the master bedroom, my mother’s bedroom. “You’re not going anywhere. From now on, Veronica, you are the lady of this house.” Then he pointed at me. “And you, Ava, will go to your room and stay there until you’ve learned some respect!” The mother and daughter kept their heads down, their shoulders shaking with silent sobs, but I could see the triumphant glint in their eyes. The conniving bitch. She was the one who had an affair with a married man. She was the one moving in before the flowers on my mother’s grave had even started to wilt. And she had the audacity to play the victim. My hand instinctively clenched, ready to grab another glass. But I caught sight of my father’s face, flushed with a dangerous rage. In my last life, my pride couldn’t handle him yelling at me. I’d run out with nothing, leaving all my designer clothes and jewelry for Jessica to claim as her own. And what did it get me? Dead on the asphalt for a three-dollar delivery fee. Not this time. I would not make the same mistake twice. I relaxed my fist and dug my nails into my thigh, hard. The sting brought tears to my eyes. “Dad,” I whispered, my voice trembling. “Are you getting rid of me?” My father, who had been seconds from exploding, blinked. His anger softened slightly. “What are you talking about? You’re my only daughter. How could I ever get rid of you?” I pouted, pointing a finger at Jessica. “Then what about her? Is she here to be your new daughter? Is she going to live in our house?” “She’s Veronica’s daughter,” he said automatically. “If it bothers you, she can call me Mr. Blackwood.” At the thought of their new luxurious life slipping away, Veronica and Jessica’s faces tightened. Jessica put on her most pitiful expression. “Mr. Blackwood, does… does your daughter not like me?” Veronica jumped in immediately. “Richard, perhaps this is too much for you. If Ava really doesn’t want us here, we won’t force it.” Her voice dropped to a devoted murmur. “As long as I can be with you, anywhere is home.” My father melted, completely captivated by her declaration of love. He took a deep breath. “Ava, from now on, Veronica is your mother. And Jessica is your sister. You will treat them with respect.” My fists clenched again, my nails digging into my palms. My real mother’s memorial flowers were still fresh. How dare he? “Dad, it hasn’t even been two months since Mom… You two were married for so long. She loved you so much. Is this woman in such a hurry?” The mention of my mother brought a flicker of guilt to his eyes. He finally relented. “You’re right. I wasn’t thinking clearly. Veronica, perhaps you and Jessica could stay at the downtown apartment for a few days?” Veronica’s eyes shot daggers at me. Then, she pressed a hand to her injured forehead, her voice suddenly weak. “Richard, you know I’ll do whatever you think is best…” She didn’t even finish the sentence before her eyes rolled back and she collapsed. Jessica shrieked in terror. “Mom! What’s wrong? Mom, don’t scare me, you know your health is fragile!” My father, ever the hero, swept Veronica into his arms, yelling, “Doctor! Somebody get the doctor!” I sat on the sofa and watched the drama unfold with a cold smile. So, she’d found a way to stay. Fine. I had plenty of ways to kick her out again. 2 “The family doctor says your little stunt gave Veronica a concussion. Now go up there and apologize properly!” Upstairs, Veronica was propped up in bed, a pristine white bandage wrapped around her head, already playing the peacemaker. “Richard, don’t blame the child. I’m sure she didn’t mean it, did you, Ava?” She looked at me, her eyes full of a sweet, venomous challenge. The old me would have exploded. But the new me was better at this game than she was. I let my own eyes well up with tears. “I’m so sorry, Daddy. I was just so upset, I threw a glass. I never imagined Aunt Veronica would lunge right into its path!” My father was so taken aback by the absurdity of my apology that his anger fizzled out into a short laugh. He patted my head. “I’ve spoiled this one rotten. Veronica, don’t you mind her.” Veronica’s face darkened for a split second before she forced another radiant smile. It was fine. As long as they were in the house, she was confident she could win him over completely. Later that evening, when it was time to choose rooms, Jessica’s eyes immediately fell on my suite on the second floor. It was the largest bedroom besides the master, with the best light, a walk-in closet, and an en-suite bathroom. Veronica was quick to feign humility. “Jessica, that’s Ava’s room. You couldn’t possibly.” Turning to my father, she added, “Richard, Jessica isn’t used to such large spaces. The first-floor guest room is more than enough. We don’t want to be any trouble.” Jessica’s face crumpled, tears threatening to spill over. I saw my father’s resolve begin to waver. I stepped in. “Dad, I think Aunt Veronica is right. What if Jessica has nightmares in a room that big? Besides, our guest room is lovely. Once it’s fixed up, it’ll feel just like home for my new little sister.” The tight line of my father’s brow relaxed. “You’re right. I didn’t consider that. If you’re not comfortable, you can stay in the guest room for now.” The smile on Veronica’s face finally cracked. But mine was just beginning to bloom. Back in my room, I pulled up the feed from the micro-camera I’d installed in the guest room earlier. Jessica was in the middle of a full-blown tantrum. “Mom! You promised I’d be a princess here! Why does she still get to walk all over me?” Veronica’s face was a stony mask. “What do you know? This is called strategy. She’s just a spoiled brat. You think she stands a chance against me? Your ‘Uncle’ Richard doesn’t have a son. Just wait until I’m pregnant with his heir. We’ll see how smug little Ava is then.” With that, Veronica swept out of the room, on her way to bring my father a cup of tea in his study. And I had already dosed the entire kettle. 3 To my absolute shock, three months later, Veronica was pregnant. The news hit me like a physical blow. I frantically messaged the online seller who’d sold me the drug. What the hell happened? The reply came from a flamboyant, theatrical voice over the encrypted chat. “Darling, that’s simply impossible! This isn’t your garden-variety sterilization drug. A man who takes this for an extended period doesn’t just become sterile, he becomes…” The rest of the message made me laugh. And it confirmed one thing with absolute certainty. There was no way my father could get anyone pregnant. So whose baby was it? My father, however, was ecstatic. A son, in his old age! He was over the moon. He immediately had the master suite redecorated to Veronica’s tastes and insisted that Jessica move into my room. “Veronica says Jessica is scared to sleep alone. She can keep you company.” Veronica caressed her still-flat stomach, a triumphant smirk playing on her lips. “Ava, you don’t mind, do you?” I smiled back, just as sweetly. “Of course not. Once you have my new baby brother, we’ll finally be a real family.” My father beamed, seeing us getting along so well. He declared we were all going out for a celebratory dinner. When I went back to my room, I found Jessica standing in front of my full-length mirror, teetering in a pair of my burgundy stilettos. She saw me and grinned. “These are gorgeous. You don’t mind if I borrow them, do you, sis?” They were the last gift my mother ever gave me, for my eighteenth birthday. I’d never even worn them myself. My patience snapped. “Take them off. Now.” Jessica scoffed. “So, the nice girl act is over now that Daddy’s not around?” With a vicious smirk, she kicked her foot back, slamming the delicate heel into the mirror. The stiletto snapped with a sickening crack as the glass spiderwebbed and shattered. I froze. A moment later, hurried footsteps pounded up the stairs. Veronica appeared in the doorway, clinging to my father’s arm. She gasped, her hand flying to her mouth as her eyes reddened. “Jessica, darling! Your leg, it’s bleeding! Are you hurt?” Jessica clutched her calf, where a shard of glass had nicked her, and started sobbing. “I’m so sorry, Ava! I shouldn’t have touched your shoes! Please, don’t blame Mom for this!” The broken shoe lay amidst the shards of glass, painting a perfect picture: me, in a fit of rage, smashing the shoe against the mirror. My father’s brow furrowed, his voice dripping with disappointment. “Ava. And here I was, thinking you’d finally grown up. You’re all sweetness to our faces, and this is what you do behind our backs.” I opened my mouth to explain. “It was her, she…” “Enough!” he boomed. “You always have an excuse! The truth is you can’t stand to see this family happy!” I fell silent. He pulled out his phone and made a call, then gestured to my closet. “Pack your things. You’re an adult now. You can live on your own.” His voice was cold, final. “I’ve arranged an apartment for you. Don’t come back unless you’re invited. Veronica needs a peaceful environment for her pregnancy.” I nodded slowly. “Fine. I’ll go. But I’m taking one thing with me.” With that, I shoved Jessica aside, grabbed the shoe from her other foot, and wrenched it off. She shrieked as her hand pressed down on the broken glass, glaring at me with pure hatred. I didn’t even look at her. I just wiped the shoe clean with a look of disgust. “You win,” I said to them. “You got me out of the house.” My father started to lecture me again, but I looked him straight in the eye, my voice thick with emotion. “This was the last gift Mom ever gave me. I’m not letting them have it.” He froze. I walked past them without another word and went downstairs. The driver was already waiting. I got in the car and closed my eyes. It didn’t matter. I had already sold or replaced everything valuable in the house with fakes. My last life taught me one thing: the only thing you can truly count on is cash. As for Veronica and her daughter? Their time would come. The apartment my father arranged was near my school—an elite prep school where tuition was more important than grades. The next day, I walked onto campus and saw Jessica, holding court in the middle of a circle of fawning students. She was wearing my clothes and carrying one of my swapped-out fake designer bags. “Well, well, look what we have here,” one of the girls sneered. “If it isn’t the former princess of the Blackwood family. Kicked out of your own house and you still show your face here?” The group erupted in laughter. Jessica glided over to me, wrapping her arm around mine in a show of false intimacy. “Ava, don’t listen to them. Even after my baby brother is born, you’ll always be a Blackwood.” I pulled my arm away. “We? Is your last name Blackwood now?” Her expression faltered. “Ava,” she said, her voice dripping with hurt, “are you still mad at me? It wasn’t my fault that Uncle Richard asked you to leave.” A few of the fair-weather friends chimed in. “Don’t apologize to her, Jessica. She’s just a stuck-up snob!” “Yeah, acting so high and mighty. Let’s see how she acts when she’s cut out of the will.” I said nothing, just stared down at my textbook. I’d seen the worst of human nature in my last life. Their petty taunts were nothing to me. Jessica basked in their sycophantic praise, announcing loudly, “Well, when my baby brother has his one-month celebration, you’re all invited!” I gripped my pen, a cold smile touching my lips. Good, I thought. I hope every single one of them is there to watch the show. Ten months flew by. The day of my “brother’s” party arrived. My father called me personally, ordering me to come home. “Alright, that’s enough sulking. He’s your brother. What will people think if his own sister doesn’t show up?” I agreed instantly. I grabbed the file from my desk and slipped it into my backpack. When I arrived in my plain school uniform, my father, who was greeting guests, frowned in disapproval. “Ava, for heaven’s sake, don’t you have any sense of occasion? You couldn’t find a single decent dress to wear?” My gaze drifted to Jessica, who was preening in a couture gown. I tilted my chin towards her. “Weren’t all my clothes given to the new young lady of the house?” My father fell silent, instead beckoning an assistant to take me to get changed. Just then, Veronica approached, holding the baby. “Ava, you’re here! Would you like to hold your little brother?” Before I could even react, she was thrusting the baby into my arms. I reached out, but it was too late. I wasn’t ready. The swaddled infant slipped through my grasp and fell to the polished marble floor. A piercing, agonized wail echoed through the grand hall. I stared at her in disbelief. The woman was truly ruthless, willing to use her own son as a pawn in her sick game. Every eye in the room turned to us. Veronica let out a heart-wrenching cry. “Ava! I know you don’t like him, but how could you drop him on purpose!” My father’s face went black with rage. He didn’t wait for an explanation. His hand flew through the air and a sharp, stinging slap landed across my cheek. My head snapped to the side, my skin burning. It took a moment to register what had just happened. My father had hit me. For the first time in my entire life. An unspeakable mix of betrayal and fury exploded in my chest. He clutched his heart, his voice a disappointed roar. “I was a fool to ever trust you. You ungrateful monster, how could you harm your own brother!” Veronica was sobbing, cradling the crying infant. “He’s just a baby! How can you hate him this much? Are you that afraid he’ll take your inheritance?” The atmosphere in the room shifted. I could feel their stares: mocking, disdainful, morbidly curious. “That Blackwood girl is more vicious than she looks. Dropping a newborn like that!” My father was trembling with rage. “Do you think I’m a doddering old fool? I’m telling you right now, you won’t see a single penny of my fortune!” A collective gasp went through the crowd. I saw the undisguised joy in Veronica and Jessica’s eyes. It was happening. The entire Blackwood fortune would soon be theirs. I touched my stinging cheek and let out a bitter, self-mocking laugh. But I didn’t break down. I didn’t scream or cry. I simply reached into my bag and pulled out the paternity test. “Dad, maybe you should look at this gift before you make any final decisions.”

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1 It was our second anniversary. I saw the note on my boss Alexander’s phone, and my world tilted on its axis. It was a checklist, a brutal list of requirements for his perfect girlfriend: Under 28. Fluent in five languages. Stanford graduate. C-cup… There were twenty-five items in total. Not a single one of them described me. In that moment, our secret, two-year affair finally made a twisted kind of sense. I tried to console myself, telling myself no one could possibly meet every single one of his ridiculously demanding criteria. Then came the new hire interviews. I sat beside him as he picked up one woman’s resume, his head nodding in approval again and again. When my eyes caught a glimpse of her qualifications, a cold certainty washed over me. My time with Alexander was over. The interview was almost unnervingly smooth. Alexander asked the woman, Isabella, question after question, a mix of professional and deeply personal. “What are your hobbies?” “What’s your favorite food?” With every answer she gave, the stern, unsmiling lines of his face softened into something I’d never seen before. I knew why. Every single one of her answers ticked a box on his list. My heart sank, stone by stone, into a pit of despair. In the two years we’d been together, he’d never shown this much interest in me. He never cared what movies I liked or what I did with my free time. Outside of the bedroom, we were practically strangers. Alexander’s final question was the one that shattered what was left of my hope. “Do you have a boyfriend right now?” “No,” she answered, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. The way his lips curved into a smile and the look that passed between them was a silent, sealed contract. After the interviews, Alexander placed her resume on my desk. “Notify her that she’s hired.” I stared down at the smiling face in the photo. Isabella Knight. Even the dimples at the corners of her mouth were exactly what he wanted. Two days later, I was escorting her to HR to finalize her paperwork when the department head handed me a form. “Sarah, perfect timing. Could you sign this for me?” I stared at the document, sure I’d misheard. “A department transfer request?” The HR manager’s eyes were full of pity. “You didn’t know? Mr. Knight has appointed Isabella as his new executive assistant. He asked me to transfer you to the marketing department.” A wave of desolation washed over me. I had poured five years of my life into this company, clawing my way up from intern to his assistant. Every promotion was paid for with the red flags on my annual health reports. Three years ago, when he transferred to this city, I followed him without a second thought. And now, with a single word, he was casting me aside for a woman he’d just met. The marketing department was a notorious dead end—all the grunt work, none of the glory. It wasn’t a transfer; it was a demotion. This wasn’t the first time he’d treated me like I was disposable. For two years, he’d stood me up at restaurants, leaving me to wait alone until closing time. He’d completely forgotten the vacations I’d so excitedly planned. The truth was simple. He just didn’t care. Once that reality settled in my bones, I signed the transfer papers without hesitation. Then, on the spot, I wrote out my resignation and handed it in. With that done, I stepped outside and called my mom. “Mom, I think I’m going to come home and find a job there.” “No, I’m not upset,” I lied, forcing a cheerful tone. “I heard about your surgery. This way, I can be there to take care of you.” The resignation process would take a month, which was perfect. It was the end of the year, and I could collect my bonus from the last major project. I packed my desk, moved my things to marketing, and waited until the office emptied out. Then, with a calm I didn’t feel, I walked to Alexander’s office. Through the glass wall, I saw a new, smaller desk had been set up next to his. Isabella was still there, working. And Alexander, the man who famously kept everyone at arm’s length, was leaning over her, his body close to hers, patiently explaining something on her screen. I had tried for years to break down that invisible wall between us. I’d even asked if I could move my desk into his office. His rejection was always swift and cold: “Sarah, I need my personal space.” I thought seeing this would break me. But now, having let go, all I felt was a profound sense of relief. He noticed me and raised an eyebrow, unsurprised. After dismissing Isabella, his expression hardened with impatience. “This transfer is a chance for you to gain more experience. Don’t be…” I cut him off. “Let’s break up.” He paused, then let out a short, derisive laugh. “Break up? Sarah, when did I ever say you were my girlfriend? From head to toe, you don’t meet a single one of my standards.” I stared at him, speechless. His eyes held their usual arrogance. “Since you brought it up, let me make it official. As of today, our… arrangement is officially terminated.” His words were a slap in the face, sharp and stinging. I wanted to cry, but a laugh escaped my lips instead—a bitter, hollow sound for my wasted youth, for my own pathetic cheapness. He was right. He had never called me his girlfriend. I was the one who stupidly assumed that one night changed everything. It was at the company’s annual gala. He’d had too much to drink. I took him back to his hotel room, and he asked me to stay. He never knew that I’d been secretly in love with him for years, since my very first day at the company. What followed was a night of passion I’d only dreamed of. The next morning, he woke up, saw me tangled in his sheets, and froze for a moment. Then, without another word, he dressed and said, “We’ll be in touch,” and left. How could I have been so foolish? How could I have mistaken those four empty words for “I love you”? All the times he’d been dismissive, all the times he’d treated me with indifference—I had told myself he was just a cold person by nature. But the real answer had been there all along. I wasn’t good enough. The last flicker of warmth in my heart died out in the cold night air. 2 From that day on, I avoided Alexander like the plague. If we had work that needed to be discussed, I asked my colleagues to handle it. We passed in the hallway several times; I saw his throat bob as if he wanted to say something, but I looked straight through him and kept walking. About two weeks later, the office gossip exploded. “Oh my god, did you guys see? Alex and Isabella made it official!” “They even have matching profile pictures! That was fast.” “Damn, that girl works quick. A few weeks on the job and she’s already brought the Ice King down from his pedestal.” I opened my social media feed. Alexander’s profile, usually as sterile as a corporate brochure, now had a pinned video at the top—a highlight reel of their new relationship. In the two weeks since we’d ended things, he had already taken her to meet his parents. I liked the post along with everyone else, then quickly closed the app. I went to book my ticket home and realized my ID was still at his apartment. I had no choice but to send him a text. He replied almost instantly. “I’m out of town on business. Go get it yourself. The code is 991006.” Followed by another message. “And don’t contact me after work hours again. I have a girlfriend now. It’s inappropriate.” I recognized the numbers. It was Isabella’s birthday. After work, I rushed to his place. The toiletries I’d left in his bathroom were gone. The living room rug and even the tissue box on the coffee table were now a garish shade of pink. A strange, floral scent filled the air. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I started searching for my ID. Before I knew what was happening, two police officers slammed me to the ground. “We received a call about a break-in. You’re coming with us.” No matter how much I explained, they were convinced I was a burglar. My hands trembled as I tried to call Alexander. The call connected for a second, then was cut off. I tried again. It wouldn’t go through. He had blocked my number. There was no one to vouch for me. I was arrested on suspicion of breaking and entering. I spent two days and two nights in a dark holding cell, under constant interrogation, without a wink of sleep. On the third night, Alexander finally showed up, with Isabella on his arm. She blinked her big, innocent eyes. “Oh, Sarah, I’m so, so sorry! I didn’t know it was you! I saw a blurry figure on the security camera and I panicked and called the police.” She looked from me to him. “But… why were you in Alex’s apartment?” The silence was thick and suffocating. Alexander broke it. “I asked her to grab a file for me.” Isabella clutched her chest dramatically and laughed. “Oh, you scared me! For a second, I thought there was something between you two.” He shook his head, his tone firm. “Never. You don’t have to worry about that. You know my standards. She’s not my type.” I stared at them, saying nothing. While Alexander was speaking to the officers, Isabella casually lifted her sleeve, revealing a fresh tattoo on her arm: A & I. “Like it, Sarah? Alex and I got them together a few days ago. He said he wanted something permanent to mark our love. I never knew he was such a romantic.” My mouth opened, but no words came out. So, the serious, unsmiling Alexander could be sweet and romantic. Just not for me. The look on my face seemed to please her. She leaned in, her voice a triumphant whisper. “This was just a little warning. Stay away from him. Take your things and get lost.” She pulled my ID out of her pocket and shoved it into mine. She’d known all along. I walked out of the police station and watched them get into his car, their bodies pressed close together. A light drizzle was falling, and a puddle had formed at the bottom of the steps. As the car pulled away, its tires sent a wave of dirty water splashing all over me. The taxi driver who pulled up took one look at my drenched, pathetic state and sped off. In the car’s rearview mirror, I saw Alexander’s dark, unreadable eyes watching me. Back at work, news of my arrest had somehow leaked. My colleagues looked at me differently now, their gazes filled with suspicion and pity. I let my eyes drift over their familiar, yet alien, faces, finally landing on Isabella. I didn’t miss the smug triumph in her eyes. I took a deep breath and didn’t bother to explain. All I had to do was get my bonus, and I would be gone. I counted down the days. Finally, the night of the company’s anniversary gala arrived. I had just walked into the ballroom when I saw Alexander in a sharp tuxedo. He started to walk toward me, but Isabella intercepted him, linking her arm through his and pulling him toward the stage. They were a stunning couple, and the spotlight immediately found them. The final event of the night was the announcement of the project awards. My heart hammered against my ribs. Alexander stood at the podium, reading the list of names. When he got to my project, the big screen lit up. But instead of my name, I saw hers. Isabella Knight. The world went silent. My mind was a complete blank. Alexander’s gaze flickered in my direction, as if gauging my reaction. I stared at him in disbelief. The second he stepped off the stage, I pushed through the crowd and confronted him, my voice shaking with a rage I could no longer contain. “What the hell was that, Alexander?” He knew exactly what I meant. He led me out into the hallway. “You’ll have other opportunities here, Sarah. Isabella is new. She needs a big win like this to establish herself.” He tried to sound reasonable. “And don’t worry, I’ve already found a better opportunity for you as compensation.” My voice rose. “But I completed that project! Do you have any idea how hard I worked? And you just erase all of it with a single sentence, for her?” Tears I couldn’t control streamed down my face. For that project, for that bonus, I had pulled all-nighters for weeks. I had forced myself through client dinners, drinking with them despite a severe alcohol allergy that nearly landed me in the hospital. He knew. He knew all of it. And Isabella? All she did was sign her name on the final report after I was gone. He loosened his tie, his voice sharp with irritation. “Sarah, let’s be clear. I am your boss. I decide who gets credit for that project.” He was right, but I couldn’t let it go. My mother was waiting for that money for her surgery. I swallowed my pride, my voice breaking into a sob. “Please. I’m begging you. I won’t ask for anything ever again. But I need that bonus money. It’s for my mom’s medical bills…” He cut me off, his voice turning to ice. “I should have known. You’d even stoop to making up lies about your mother to guilt-trip me for money. What’s the matter? Bitter that you didn’t get a payday after sleeping with me for two years? You should take a good look in the mirror and ask yourself if you ever even came close to meeting my standards.” Our raised voices drew Isabella over. She looked at me, her face a mask of concern, and grabbed my arm. “Sarah, are you fighting with Alex over the project? Please, don’t. It’s okay, I don’t need it. I’m new here, I’m used to being overlooked.” Her saccharine, manipulative words made my blood boil. I yanked my arm away from her. But before I could even apply any force, she stumbled backward with a shriek, letting the wine glass in her hand crash to the floor. “Alex,” she sobbed, tears instantly filling her eyes. He rushed to her side, and when he looked back at me, his eyes were full of venom. He grabbed my arm, his grip bruising. “You are unbelievable, Sarah. She was defending you, and you assault her?” he snarled. “Apologize to her. Right now.” I wrenched my arm free and screamed at him, my voice raw. “I did nothing wrong! Why should I apologize?” The fire in his eyes blazed hotter. The next second, a loud smack echoed in the hall. The force of his slap sent me stumbling backward. My hand shot out to break my fall and landed directly on the shards of broken glass. Pain, sharp and immediate, shot up my arm as blood bloomed on my palm. Alexander froze, his hand still in the air, his eyes wide with shock. He reached out as if to help me up. “It hurts,” Isabella whimpered. His attention snapped back to her. He swept her up into his arms and turned away without a backward glance. I lay on the floor, humiliated and bleeding, and watched as she wrapped her arms around his neck, a triumphant smirk on her face. I couldn’t stay there a second longer. I wiped my tears, deleted his number, blocked him on everything, and changed my ticket for the earliest train home. Alexander Knight. We were done. Forever.

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The moment I found out I was the real heiress, I ran to the Ashwood estate to claim my birthright. But after eighteen years, there was already another girl living my life—a “fake” heiress, coddled and adored. My mother’s expression was a mask of indifference. “Rosalind has been with us since she was a baby,” she said, her voice cool. “She’s as good as our own. To avoid gossip, we’ll tell everyone you’re our adopted daughter.” My father added, “You should learn from your sister. Don’t embarrass the family.” And my younger brother, Tristan, shielded the fake heiress with his own body. “I only have one sister,” he snarled, “and it’s not some stray they dragged in off the street.” Blood is thicker than water, they say. And they were right. Rosalind may not have been my mother’s biological daughter, but she was my father’s. The man who had married into this family and its fortune. 1 The Ashwoods were less than thrilled about my return. On the day I came home, my father didn’t even show his face. He was “away on business.” My so-called brother Tristan glared at me with pure hatred, physically blocking my view of Rosalind as if I were some kind of predator. “Not every piece of trash that shows up at our door gets to call themselves family,” he spat. “She’s my only sister.” My mother’s gaze flickered between me and Rosalind, her lips pressed into a thin line. Finally, she pulled the teary-eyed Rosalind into her arms, murmuring soft comforts. “Don’t you worry, darling. You will always be my daughter. We would never send you back to a place like that.” Then she turned to me. Her eyes scanned my sun-bleached, straw-like hair and my rough, calloused hands. She tried to hide her disgust, but failed. “From now on, you two are sisters. Sparrow, you will learn from Rosalind. And try not to wander off.” She added, as an afterthought, “As for that woman who raised you, I’ll give her a sum of money to ensure she disappears.” That’s right. My own mother planned to pass me off as an adopted charity case. Because she was ashamed of me. I was an embarrassment, a blemish on their perfect family portrait. I couldn’t bring her the prestige that Rosalind did—the girl who was accepted into a top university at eighteen, who was cultured, poised, played the violin, and was engaged to a man from a family as powerful as the Ashwoods. And me? I was a high school dropout, sallow-skinned and scrawny, with no talents to speak of and no knowledge of their glittering world. By any measure, Rosalind was the daughter she deserved. And after raising her for over a decade, of course, there was a bond. I understood it, intellectually. But it didn’t stop the knot of pain from tightening in my chest. That pain sharpened into anger when Rosalind deliberately knocked my phone out of my hand, sending it shattering across the marble floor. I’d had that phone for almost eight years. It held everything. Messages from the few kind souls who had shown me compassion, their words a lifeline in a world that had offered me nothing but cold indifference. On so many nights when I thought I couldn’t go on, I would reread those messages, drawing strength from them, piece by broken piece. Now, all of that was gone. My fists clenched, my knuckles white. I stared at Rosalind, a fire blazing in my eyes. “Oh, sorry, sister,” she said with a lazy smile, her apology dripping with insincerity. “My hand slipped.” I knelt in silence, gathering the glittering shards of the screen, trying to piece them back together as if I could somehow restore what was lost. It was hopeless. “That’s enough,” my mother’s voice cut through the air. “Don’t be so dramatic. Your sister didn’t do it on purpose.” I saw Rosalind’s triumphant smirk, Tristan’s mocking sneer, and the undisguised annoyance on my mother’s face. In that instant, I knew exactly what I had to do. I looked up. “I’m not angry,” I said, my voice clear and steady. “Does that mean she’s going to buy me a better one?” My mother was taken aback, her face hardening. “Don’t make a scene over something so trivial. I have an old one you can use.” I said nothing, just held her gaze. “Fine,” she snapped, pulling a card from her wallet. “Take this and go buy yourself a new one. Are you happy now?” I snatched the card from her hand before she could change her mind. Seeing me fall further from our mother’s favor, Rosalind’s smile widened. She feigned concern. “I noticed you didn’t bring many clothes, Sparrow. Why don’t I pick out a few things I’ve never worn and send them over?” “Or,” she added magnanimously, “you can just choose something from my closet yourself. Tomorrow, we’ll take you shopping for new things.” My mother’s gaze softened as she looked at Rosalind, patting her hand approvingly. “You’re so thoughtful, darling. Just give her a few of your old things. She wouldn’t know what to choose anyway. We wouldn’t want her to ruin your good clothes.” They stood there, a perfect picture of motherly love and filial piety. It was sickening. I stood up. “Where’s your room, sister? I’ll go pick something out now.” 2 Seeing the displeased looks on all their faces, my mood finally began to lift. Rosalind watched with a pained expression as I selected several brand-new dresses, the price tags still attached. I could practically feel her resentment radiating across the room. “That’s enough,” my mother cut in. “Two is plenty. Besides, your sister’s clothes won’t even fit you properly.” Rosalind forced a smile. “It’s alright, Mother. Whatever makes my sister happy. She’s suffered so much all these years. She can have all of it, for all I care.” My eyes lit up. “Really?” “Sparrow, is that any way for a younger sister to behave?” my mother chided. “You just take and take! Have you no sense of humility?” I remained silent. If I’d spent my life being humble, I would have starved to death years ago. When I was little, I’d scavenged for leftovers outside of restaurants just to have a full stomach. When I started school, the woman who raised me refused to buy me so much as a pencil or a notebook. When the teacher asked her about it, she swore she’d given me the money. I tried to argue, but she just called me a liar and beat me for it. My teacher often took pity on me, buying me supplies with her own money. But the moment I got home, my foster mother would snatch them away and give them to someone else. After a while, I think the teacher just assumed I was making excuses to avoid doing my work. I’d be punished for incomplete assignments, forced to stand in the corner. So, I learned to survive. I’d rummage through the school trash cans, collecting discarded pages from other students’ notebooks and binding them together. Pencils were even easier; I could always find stubs the length of a thumb or ballpoint pens with a little ink left. A handful of those would last me a while. Even my clothes were hand-me-downs from the neighbors. I grew up terrified of poverty. Even when I started earning my own money, I could never bring myself to spend it on myself. So when she practically offered her entire wardrobe on a silver platter, you bet I was going to take a few things. Besides, she owed me. My mother couldn’t stand to see her precious daughter upset for a second. “Don’t worry, darling,” she cooed. “Tomorrow, I’ll have the designer come to the house with his lookbooks. We’ll have some gowns custom-made just for you. It’s been a month since we had anything new made, anyway.” A genuine smile finally returned to Rosalind’s face. I poked my head between them. “Wow, really? That’s great! I don’t have anything to wear.” “Didn’t you just take a pile of clothes from your sister?” my mother asked, her voice laced with irritation. “But you’re the one who said her clothes wouldn’t fit me right,” I replied innocently. “And I’ve never, ever had a custom-made dress before…” My mother fell silent, a flicker of guilt crossing her features. “Fine,” she sighed. “The designer can make something for you as well.” Rosalind shot me a look that could kill. But this was just the beginning. Did she really think I was fighting over clothes? I was fighting for what the Ashwoods owed me. I could live without their affection, but I wouldn’t be short-changed on what was rightfully mine. Every luxury I had missed out on for eighteen years—they were going to pay it all back. 3 I carried the dresses to the room they had assigned me. It was on the ground floor, a converted storage closet next to the turn of the staircase. The space was completely empty, clearly cleared out in a hurry. “You’ll have to make do with this for now, sister,” Rosalind said with a saccharine smile. “We haven’t had time to prepare your real room yet.” I stared at the cramped space, making no move to enter. Her lips curved into a smirk. “What’s wrong? Do you have a problem with Father’s arrangements?” she asked, knowing the answer. Before I could respond, she continued, her voice a low, mocking drawl. “He was being thoughtful, you know. He said you grew up in a hovel, so a big room would probably just make you anxious. He picked this one out for you himself before he left on his trip.” “So,” she purred, “are you going to reject his ‘thoughtful’ gesture?” I ignored her completely, my gaze fixed on my mother standing just behind her. I asked, with genuine sincerity, “Are we really that poor? We can’t even spare a decent guest room?” “Back at my foster mother’s house, I had to sleep in the bathroom,” I continued, “but at least when they had guests, they got to stay in a proper bedroom.” “You know what? Maybe I should just find a hotel. I wouldn’t want to put you all out.” With that, I turned and headed for the front door, luggage in hand. I knew they wouldn’t let me leave. The Ashwood family couldn’t afford that kind of scandal. Just as I predicted, my mother’s face turned ashen with rage. Forgetting all about her afternoon nap, she snapped at me and pointed vaguely towards the second floor, assigning me a guest room. It wasn’t as large as Rosalind’s suite, but it was fully furnished and comfortable. I moved in, completely satisfied. At dinner, Rosalind pulled the same trick. Standing by the lavishly set dining table, she gasped dramatically. “Oh, dear! We forgot to set a place for my sister!” The fake heiress couldn’t hide her glee. “So sorry, Sparrow. You arrived in such a hurry, we didn’t have time to prepare a seat for you. Why don’t you… eat in the kitchen with the staff?” My mother acted as if she hadn’t heard a thing, letting Rosalind’s cruel suggestion hang in the air. My eyes darted to the head of the table, where my father’s chair sat empty. Without a word, I walked over, sat down, and started eating. My mother picked at her food for a few minutes before rising. As she left, she tossed a parting shot over her shoulder. “I’ll be gone for a few days. You two try to get along.” “Of course, Mother!” Rosalind chirped happily. “Don’t worry, I’ll be sure to entertain my sister.” She lingered on the word “entertain,” her eyes gleaming with malice. My mother either didn’t notice or didn’t care. She just gave a noncommittal hum and left. I didn’t care either. What followed was all-out war. They put cockroaches in my bedroom; I answered with mice. They poured water on my bed; I got the garden hose and started a water fight. They locked me in the house; I shattered a window and screamed at the top of my lungs about a break-in. My mother, forced to cut her vacation short, returned to a scene of utter chaos. For the first time, she directed her anger at her precious darlings. “There’s a limit to your games!” she seethed. “She may have been raised like a savage, but you two were raised by me!” Rosalind and Tristan bowed their heads in mock apology. My mother didn’t even spare me a glance. “Now that you’re in the Ashwood house, you will follow its rules,” she said coldly. “Leave your gutter habits behind.” I rolled my eyes and pretended I hadn’t heard. After they realized I wasn’t an easy target, Rosalind backed off for a few days. Of course, that meant my mother and brother simply ignored my existence, treating me like a ghost in their own home. 4 My father returned for Rosalind’s birthday. He gave me a brief, formal greeting, telling me to see the butler if I needed anything. Without missing a beat, I pulled a long, folded list from my pocket. “I don’t really know what to ask for,” I said sweetly, “but you’ve given my sister such a wonderful life. So, I just made a copy of everything in her room. This should be enough to start. I’ll let you know if I think of anything else.” My father’s eye twitched as he scanned the impossibly long list. “There’s no need to get everything at once. Your sister’s things were accumulated over many years.” I immediately dropped my gaze, my voice filled with a carefully crafted disappointment. “It’s all my fault. If I hadn’t been away from you all these years, I wouldn’t have to put you in such a difficult position.” The party guests nearby overheard, their interest piqued. “You know,” one of them whispered, “this adopted girl has the exact same eyes as Mrs. Ashwood.” “I heard she’s a dropout, didn’t even finish middle school. Amazing that the Ashwoods would take in an orphan like her.” “Well, she’s landed on her feet. The Ashwood’s real daughter has that wonderful fiancé from the Harrington family. With the Ashwood name behind her, even this orphan will be able to marry well and live a comfortable life.” My mother shot me a warning glance before clearing her throat. “We saw the poor child and our hearts went out to her,” she announced to the listening ears. “And it turned out her birthday is the same day as our Rosalind’s. It felt like fate. We treat her just like our own.” The crowd murmured in approval, praising my mother for her benevolence. 5 Listening to them call me an “orphan” who “got lucky,” I could see my mother’s smile tightening at the edges. Despite their praise, the words clearly bothered her. After all, I was her flesh and blood. Their whispers stirred a faint ember of guilt within her. Her tone softened slightly when she spoke to me again. “Alright, then. We’ll furnish your room to the same standard as Rosalind’s.” She then looked at me, a hint of regret in her eyes. “You arrived so suddenly. If we’d had more time, I would have prepared all this for you already.” “You are both my daughters,” she declared, her voice ringing with performative sincerity. “I would never favor one over the other. Whatever Rosalind has, you shall have as well.” This declaration, of course, earned her another round of applause. She beamed, gliding through the party with renewed elegance, exchanging pleasantries with her guests. Rosalind remained by her side, the picture of grace. But in a moment when no one was watching, she shot me a look of pure, unadulterated triumph. You may be the biological daughter, her eyes screamed, but I’m the one who stands by her side. I couldn’t have cared less. This was the first real birthday I’d ever had, and I was determined to enjoy it. I piled my plate high with cake, as if trying to make up for every birthday I’d ever missed. As I was taking a massive bite, Rosalind’s voice dripped with condescension from behind me. “You really have never seen anything nice, have you? I’m so tired of this cake. Here, you can have my piece too.” I took it without hesitation. “Thanks, sister. If you don’t want your presents either, I’ll take them. After all, they should have been mine to begin with.” “Hmph. Mother was right. You have no class,” she sneered, turning on her high heels and storming away. She never did say whether I could have the presents. Oh well. I’d just have to go ask my parents for more things. 6 The moment the new jewelry, handbags, and accessories arrived, I sold more than half of them. Watching the millions deposit into my bank account, my spirits soared with the balance. With money in my pocket, I laid low for a while. I paid off old debts and hired someone to do a little digging for me. It wasn’t top-secret information, but it was just what I needed to secure another windfall. I could barely contain my grin. The universe really did have a sense of justice. After all the bitterness, the sweetness was overwhelming. My grandfather had left me a hundred-million-dollar inheritance. According to his will, his company would go to my brother, but his three hundred million in cash was to be divided equally among his three blood relatives: my mother, my brother, and me. Could there be any better news? Though the Ashwoods had taken me in, they kept me on a tight leash financially, claiming they were afraid I’d “spend it recklessly.” I had to justify buying a new pair of socks. Meanwhile, Rosalind’s allowance over the years had run into the millions. Now, I was twenty. With this kind of money, I could finally move out. I could buy whatever I wanted without having to answer to anyone. A lifetime of scraping by had taught me one thing: the only thing that truly matters is the money in your own hands. That’s why I didn’t care about Rosalind’s taunts or Tristan’s hostility. I could even tolerate my parents’ blatant favoritism. As long as the money kept coming, everything was fine. And now, with a golden opportunity like this right in front of me, how could I not seize it? For the first time in my life, I thought birthdays were wonderful. There was cake, presents, and a massive inheritance. I immediately went to my parents to discuss it. My mother looked troubled. “Before we knew the truth, I promised Rosalind that money would be her dowry when she marries into the Harrington family.” “The Harringtons are a very important family,” she continued, her tone final. “A good marriage for your sister will benefit you in the long run. I’ve already made the decision. The money is hers.” “Don’t worry,” she added, as if offering a grand concession. “You are my real daughter, and I won’t neglect you. When you get married, I’ll give you a dowry of five million dollars. How does that sound?” She looked at me as if she were the most generous mother in the world. From the sidelines, Rosalind added with the air of a victor, “And I’ll add another three million, sister. As a little something from me.” “You’re too kind, Rosie,” my dear brother Tristan sneered, looking down his nose at me. “She’s just a country bumpkin. Give her a few thousand and she’ll be thrilled. What would she even do with that much money?” My father adopted a paternal, concerned expression. “A girl like Sparrow will just marry some nobody. That much money would only attract predators. It would be safer if we held onto it for her. We can give it to her when she truly needs it.” He looked at me. “Sparrow, what do you think?”

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1 The Pain of a Replacement On what was supposed to be our second anniversary, Sienna married someone else behind my back. The groom was my uncle, Greyson—the one who had vanished two years ago. When I demanded to know why, she looked at me with a face full of pity and said, “Your uncle has ALS. Marrying me is his last wish.” “He doesn’t have long,” she added softly. “Just… let him have this.” It was only then that I understood. For the past two years, I had been nothing but his substitute. Sienna’s first love, the one she could never have, had returned. The moment he reappeared, her affection swerved back to him without a moment’s hesitation. And me? I was just a convenient option, easily discarded. Later, just as Sienna wished, I disappeared from her life. But then, ignoring her husband’s worsening condition, she came back, begging me to love her one more time. … The wedding candy in my hand felt like a wad of cotton choking the air from my lungs. I couldn’t breathe. When reality finally crashed back in, I grabbed the arm of the nurse who had just handed me the small, ribboned box. “Who did you say is getting married?” The young nurse turned back, her face beaming. “Dr. Jiang! The groom’s name is Greyson Thorne. I heard it was love at first sight. I can’t believe they got married so quickly!” She bustled off to share the news with others, leaving me frozen in a cloud of cheerful gossip. I couldn’t hear a thing. Those two names—Sienna and Greyson—struck me like a bolt of lightning, rooting me to the spot. Sienna was the woman I had been secretly dating for two years. Greyson was my bastard of an uncle who had been missing for the last two. I never imagined their names would ever appear together, let alone linked by the word marriage. I don’t know how I made it home. The coffee table was covered with the gifts I had so carefully chosen. A cake, a bouquet of her favorite flowers, and the designer necklace she’d been wanting for months. Today was our anniversary. I was going to propose tonight. But before I even got home, I heard the news at the hospital. Staring at the symbols of my devotion, a pain like a thousand tiny cuts sliced through my heart, leaving me breathless. I’d called Sienna dozens of times since I found out. Every call went to voicemail. Finally, as dusk settled over the city, she answered. She used to hate it when I called her repeatedly, but this time her voice was bright, bubbling with excitement. “What’s up? You’ve called so many times.” So happy. Was it because she was getting married? A bitter laugh escaped my lips. I forced my voice to remain steady. “Sienna, what are you doing?” There was a pause. She sensed the shift in my tone. Because she was older, I usually called her by a pet name, never her full name unless something was wrong. After a few seconds of silence, she answered, her voice cool and composed. “What do you think I’m doing? I’m at work, of course.” “And do you know what today is?” The lie, so casual and clean over the phone, made my hand clench around my phone. A sob caught in my throat, but I forced it down. “What day is it? I’ve been so busy, I must have forgotten.” Her tone relaxed, as if she assumed I was just being clingy and pouty because she wasn’t home yet. Her attitude was the final blow. My heart turned to ice. “Sienna, do you remember that today is our second anniversary?” “Of course, of course, I remember. But I told you, I’m busy at work. Is that why you’ve been calling so much…?” Her voice held a note of smug certainty, as if she’d figured me out. But I cut her off, closing my eyes against a wave of despair. “So, even though you remembered, you still chose today to marry someone else? And not just anyone—Greyson!” “You found out already?” There was a flicker of disbelief in her voice, but she quickly regained her composure. “I’ll explain everything when I get home.” “No need. I can explain it to Kian myself.” A smooth, gentle voice drifted through the receiver. I recognized it instantly. Greyson. The sound of his voice brought back a flood of memories of everything he’d done, and my head began to pound with rage. “Kian, it’s me. It’s your uncle.” “Go to hell. You’re no uncle of mine.” The words exploded out of me, raw and unfiltered. “Wasn’t it enough that you killed Grandpa two years ago? Now you’ve come back to ruin my life too?” Silence. Then, I heard Greyson’s voice, thick with emotion. “I’m sorry, Kian. I never meant for any of this to happen.” “I’m sick,” he said, his voice cracking. “It’s ALS.” The words hit me like a physical blow. A diagnosis of ALS was a death sentence. But just as quickly, my suspicion returned. My uncle was a pathological liar. How could I know if this was just another one of his games? “I’ve reached the end of my life,” he continued, his voice heavy with pathos. “I’m alone, abandoned by everyone. And then I realized… Sienna was still waiting for me. She was the one woman I always wanted to marry. For my sake, since I’m dying… please, don’t blame her.” I wanted to laugh. “Did I cause you to be abandoned? You killed Grandpa with your bullshit, and then you just disappeared. Now you come back, steal my girlfriend, and act like you’re the victim? Isn’t this all your own damn fault?” “I’m sorry, Kian. I was wrong. I deserve this…” His voice was a perfect symphony of weakness and remorse, laced with just the right amount of tears. It was enough to make Sienna’s heart break. She snatched the phone from him. “Kian!” she yelled, her voice sharp with fury. “He’s a sick man! How can you say things like that to him? Don’t you see he’s already broken?” I nodded slowly to myself on the other end of the line. Greyson was broken. And what about me? The man who had stood by her side for two years? What the hell was I? My gaze fell on the table in front of me. The perfect cake, the vibrant flowers—all testaments to how much I cherished our relationship. And for what? For her to run straight into the arms of her first love, marrying him in secret on a day I was off work, while I was at home like a fool, planning a surprise. If I hadn’t decided to stop by the hospital to see her today, how much longer would she have kept me in the dark? Fine. It’s over. “Sienna,” I said, my voice hollow. “Congratulations on your wedding. We’re done.” 2 The Truth is a Thunderbolt I hung up and collapsed onto the sofa, but my heart refused to be still. Sienna was three years older than me. When I started my internship at the hospital two years ago, she was my supervising physician. The first time she saw me, her eyes filled with tears. At the time, she’d blamed it on the dry hospital air. Now I finally understood. It wasn’t the air. It was because she was seeing Greyson’s ghost in my face. A tear traced a path down my cheek as I remembered the afternoon she’d told me it was love at first sight. “Kian, you have beautiful eyes. I think I’m falling for you. Will you go out with me?” Her words had stunned me. No girl had ever been so bold, so direct. Especially not my mentor. Without thinking, I turned and ran. A few steps later, guilt hit me. I walked back and apologized. “I’m sorry, Dr. Jiang. You just… caught me off guard.” Sienna had smiled and said she’d been too forward. Then she added, out of nowhere, “You’re very different from him.” All those little details I’d ignored came flooding back, and her reasons for pursuing me became painfully clear. All this time, I’d been a fool, a placeholder. Her passionate pursuit, her gentle affection—it was all because I had a face that looked like his. And yet, despite it all, she’d still had the nerve to have her wedding candy delivered to me. While I was at home, naively planning our anniversary. She was the one who chased me, but in the end, I was the one who fell in love, and I was the one who got hurt. Hours passed. Moonlight streamed through the window, bathing me in its cold light. I forced myself to get up. I gathered everything on the table—the cake, the flowers, the necklace, and the ring I was going to propose with—and threw it all into the dumpster downstairs. Afterward, I wandered the streets with no destination in mind. They say the lonelier you are, the more you seek out crowds. I found myself on a street lined with bars. Staring at the wall of liquor bottles, only one thought crossed my mind: drink until I forget. Under the dim lights, I downed glass after glass. A flush crept up my face, and the emotions I’d been suppressing finally broke free, spilling out as tears. As I reached for my thirteenth drink, a slender hand intercepted mine, plucking the glass from the bar. I looked up, my vision blurry. The figure in front of me swayed. I couldn’t make out her face. “Kian? What are you doing, drinking like this?” Her voice was soft, like a distant breeze. I stared at her for a long time, but my head was still spinning. “Who are you? Do I know you?” I mumbled, trying to grab the glass back, but she moved it out of my reach. Annoyed, I slid off the barstool, determined to reclaim my drink. “You’re already wasted, and you want more?” There was an edge to her voice. I didn’t understand why she cared how much I drank. I squinted, trying to focus on her face. A spark of recognition flashed in my mind. Helena. Two years ago, before Sienna and I got together, my father had forced me to go on a date with her. It was after that disastrous setup that I realized I had feelings for Sienna and finally accepted her confession. I never thought I’d run into Helena like this. My pathetic pride kicked in. The last thing I wanted was for my former blind date to see me in such a miserable state. I tried to leave, but the world was spinning too fast. Helena grabbed my shoulder to steady me. I stumbled, losing my balance, and fell backward. As I landed on a soft couch, the room tilted violently. The only thing that came into focus was Helena’s beautiful, bewitching face, leaning closer. “What’s wrong? Did your true love break up with you?” Her voice echoed in the fog of my mind. The alcohol was at its peak. Helena’s cool fingertips traced a line along my jaw, and I flinched, turning my head away. But she cupped my chin, forcing me to look at her. “Since your true love doesn’t want you,” she purred, a wicked smile playing on her lips, “why not give this arrangement a try?” Under the hazy, intimate lighting, her smile was intoxicating. I don’t know if it was the alcohol or the pheromones, but I was mesmerized. Sienna had betrayed me so completely. Why shouldn’t I be bold and try something new? Before I could answer, Helena’s lips were on mine. My eyes shot open. I meant to push her away, but she only deepened the kiss. What happened next felt inevitable. We spent the night in a suite above the bar. When I woke up the next morning, Helena was gone. I checked my phone and saw a flood of messages and missed calls from Sienna. My head was already throbbing from the hangover, and her long-winded essays made it even worse. In them, she poured out her feelings for Greyson. 【I just feel sorry for him now. He has this incurable disease, he doesn’t have much time left. But you’re different, Kian. What I feel for you is love. Real love. You have your whole life ahead of you. I’m just marrying him to be with him at the end, but you’re the one I truly love.】

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“The CEO of Harrison Group Exposed for Cheating!” The trending hashtag had barely lasted a day before I posted my clarification. “There is no third party in my relationship with Mr. Harrison. All these years, my feelings have been a foolish delusion, entirely unrequited.” My voice was flat, devoid of any hint of coercion or reluctance. “Out of jealousy, I fabricated the lie that he was having an affair with his secretary and cheating on me. I apologize to Ms. Monroe.” The internet exploded: “This morning we felt sorry for you and believed your lies! This afternoon, you contradict yourself! Go to hell, you pathetic wretch!” “You think we’re idiots, don’t you? If you’re a psychopath, get help!” An endless stream of curses flooded my phone, and my hand trembled slightly. “Are you satisfied?” Liam Harrison smiled. “You’ve finally learned your lesson. It would have been so much easier if you’d done this sooner.” “As a reward, I might even make time to accompany you to your next prenatal check-up.” “But tomorrow, I have to take Sarah Monroe to Iceland to see the Northern Lights. She’s been in a bad mood lately and needs a change of scenery. So, we’ll reschedule your appointment. You’ll just have to wait.” I ended the video call. The nurse behind me reminded me that the procedure was ready. I had waited ten years for him. I had waited long enough. 1 After I left home, the first place I went was a small, secluded clinic. Ten years ago, Liam Harrison knelt before my mother’s hospital bed here, swearing: “I will love Evelyn forever. I will never let her suffer a moment of injustice.” Ten years later, I had an abortion in that very same clinic. Behind the clinic, under an old willow tree, was a rusty iron box we had buried together. We had promised to open it in ten years. The box was corroded, but the papers inside were surprisingly intact. The first question was written in Liam Harrison’s flamboyant handwriting: 【Dear Evelyn, my future Mrs. Harrison, how have you spent your past ten years with him?】 I looked at the intimate endearment on the paper, a bitter laugh rising in my throat. 【Did you buy rings?】 Yes. A small diamond ring. I wore it on my ring finger for ten years, cherishing it. Even though it was less than a tenth the size of the one on Sarah Monroe’s hand. 【How’s the company? Did we get married?】 The company had indeed grown larger and larger, but so had the number of women around him. Every time I brought up marriage, Liam Harrison avoided the topic. We had been entangled for ten years without a marriage certificate, without a wedding. 【Do you have a baby?】 We did have a child once. But he was stillborn, covered in bruises, never having the chance to cry. Now I was pregnant again. Because Sarah Monroe wanted a child to “play with.” Liam Harrison said she was a career woman and couldn’t sacrifice her figure or time. The next question was mine. 【Over the past ten years, Mr. Harrison, what do you consider the most important thing in our relationship?】 What would Liam Harrison say? Trust, probably. After all, he always used to say, impatiently: “Evelyn, can’t you trust me more? Hannah, my assistant, and I are completely innocent.” “Sarah’s incredibly capable at work. Don’t always look at her with such suspicion. It’s not easy for a woman to get where she is today.” I had tried to convince myself that it was just professional contact. But their eyes didn’t lie. Their actions even less so. I remember the morning he attended his first board meeting as CEO. I woke up early to iron his shirt and chose a sapphire blue tie. I meticulously tied it for him. Just then, Sarah burst in, oblivious. Her gaze lingered on my hands for a second, then she held up a different tie, smiling. “Liam, this is a very formal occasion today. I suggest this dark patterned tie; it looks much more dignified.” Liam Harrison didn’t hesitate. He simply untied the knot I had just finished. The blue tie slipped to the floor. He took the one Sarah offered and, without a glance, tied it skillfully in front of the mirror. In the reflection, he saw my stunned expression. When he turned, he patted my shoulder. “Don’t misunderstand. Sarah has been by my side for a long time. She understands the dress code for these occasions better than you do.” I lowered my head, staring at the abandoned tie in my palm. I didn’t think I had misunderstood anything. 2 After the abortion. The second place I went was the ocean. Over ten years, I had mentioned countless times that I wanted a wedding by the sea. I lay on the yacht bed, enduring waves of delayed, dull pain. Sarah called. She sounded triumphant: “Liam’s luggage for his Iceland trip today, could you pack it for me? I’ll come by to pick it up later.” She paused, then chuckled softly. “But you don’t need to pack any underwear. I bought him new ones. He really likes the size and style.” A sudden, sharp cramp seized my lower abdomen. I bit my lip, refusing to make a sound. In the past, every time Sarah subtly provoked me like this, I would lose control. I’d call Liam Harrison in a hysterical rage, or storm into HR demanding they fire her. Just last week, Sarah had feigned concern: “Evelyn, they say a woman’s body changes after childbirth, becomes… looser. Liam is probably afraid of that, which is why he’s reluctant for me to have a baby. He’s just making you do the hard work instead.” I had immediately trashed her office. The commotion drew countless media outlets, eager for a scoop. After that, the scandal between Liam Harrison and his secretary was out in the open. Rumors spread like wildfire. It was a critical time for his company’s IPO, and the blow was devastating. He was known in the business world for his ruthlessness and vindictiveness. He ordered me to quickly issue a public statement clearing Sarah’s name. “If you cause any more trouble, I’ll take the child the moment it’s born. You’ll never see it again.” Between us, he still leaned more towards Sarah. On the bedside table, a painting of sunflowers rested. It was my mother’s, the only thing I had taken from home. My mother had left me many things, but over the years, to pay off debts, only this one painting remained. On countless sleepless nights, looking at that painting brought me immense comfort. I reached for it. The painting clattered to the floor. Something fell out from behind it. Ignoring the pain, I froze. Inside were some photos of a young Liam Harrison. He was only seventeen when my mother brought him to the city. In the photos, the boy wore a faded old T-shirt, his back straight, his eyes innocent yet sharp. Back then, his back didn’t bear those grotesque scars. My mother fully funded his university education. After graduation, he naturally joined Thorne Industries. He was smart and hardworking, and his future was bright. Until my father, a lifelong philanderer, died suddenly, collapsing amidst a bed of peonies. His illegitimate children, previously unseen, bared their claws, tearing savagely at the family fortune. I was caught completely off guard. All that was left for me was a shell of a company with only ten employees, and a mountain of soul-crushing debt. My mother, suffering a heart attack, also collapsed. Without money, we couldn’t afford a proper hospital. We found this small clinic, where she barely clung to life with basic medication. Liam Harrison appeared by my side. I cursed him, tried to drive him away, but he wouldn’t leave. Creditors were everywhere. We hid, living in constant fear. Sometimes, when there was no escape, cornered in an alley, he would immediately shield me tightly in his arms, covering my eyes with his broad hands. “Don’t be afraid. Don’t look.” Those scars were all from that time. 3 After two grueling years, all debts were repaid. The company finally began to show some promise. I tentatively suggested, “We should get married.” He paused, then smiled and ruffled my hair. “What’s the rush? It’s not the right time yet. Wait a little longer. I’ll save up to get you the most dazzling engagement ring, and we’ll have a spectacular wedding. I’ll marry you in style.” He leaned down and kissed me, reassuring me. “Don’t worry. You’ll always be my wife. Where would I go?” After that, his social engagements visibly increased. A new secretary also appeared by his side. Sarah began to infiltrate every corner of Liam Harrison’s life. By the time I realized something was wrong, it was already too late. I fought with him countless times. I gave him two choices: either fire Sarah or marry me. He remained silent, choosing neither. The disappointment within me grew. The first time I was pregnant, we were in the midst of our most intense cold war. Morning sickness plagued me day and night, my legs swelled horribly, and I’d wake up in agonizing pain from cramps. He rarely came home. I endured it all alone. He knew I loved the ocean. He habitually booked a five-day, five-night luxury cruise for my birthday. But on the deck, I saw Sarah, laughing brightly. On the second day of the trip, the cruise ship unexpectedly sank. A panicked crowd surged towards the lifeboats. I clutched my heavy belly, distraught and helpless. He had paid a high price for two lifeboat spots and, after securing them, immediately reached out to help me. But Sarah rushed out, crying and pushing me away. “Liam, she’s pregnant! The rescue workers will prioritize putting her on the other lifeboat! What about me…?” Liam Harrison hesitated. The crowd pushed and shoved violently. Something fell from above, and I slipped. The sea swallowed me whole. “Evelyn!” When I woke, excruciating pain radiated from my lower body. The doctor told me the baby was gone. It was a boy. I only saw him for a moment before tears streamed down my face—his eyes and brows were so much like Liam Harrison’s. Halfway through the cruise, I staggered out of bed. I opened the small urn I had brought from home. “Baby,” I whispered to the churning waves, “Mama is so sorry.” “Mama will leave you here, alright?” My vision blurred with tears. I scattered his ashes over the ocean. 4 After losing the baby, I became increasingly silent. Whether he spoke kindly or erupted in a rage, I barely bothered to lift my eyelids at Liam Harrison. He couldn’t take it anymore. He fell to his knees by my bed, his eyes red, and roared, “What do you want me to do to make you forgive me? Tell me!” After that, he came home almost every day, forcing me to share the bed. I didn’t resist, but I didn’t respond either. I became pregnant again. Looking at the prenatal report, a flicker of hope stirred within me. I longed for this child to come back to me. Liam Harrison finally promised he would cut ties with Sarah. He started coming home regularly, sometimes bringing a bouquet of lilies to help me sleep. At night, he would wrap his arms around my increasingly heavy waist from behind. Perhaps the arrival of this child could truly change something. Not long after, I found a pair of silk stockings that weren’t mine in Liam Harrison’s suit pocket. They still carried Sarah’s warmth, like a slap across my face. Distraught, I went to the company. Through the glass, I saw Sarah, the woman Liam Harrison claimed to have fired long ago. Her office was directly across from his, and on her desk sat a large bouquet of lilies. She saw me, unsurprised, even raising her left hand to flash the ring on her ring finger in a defiant gesture. I grabbed everything within reach, smashing it furiously towards that infuriating scene! Liam Harrison rushed out, his face ashen. In a fit of rage, he raised his hand and slapped me hard. “Who let you in? This is a company! If you want to make a scene, go home!” I clutched my face, looking at his disgusted expression. How had we come to this? After the scandal broke, the stock price plummeted, and the board of directors was in chaos. Liam Harrison ordered me to immediately clear Sarah’s name. “Issue a statement saying everything was your deranged delusion! Otherwise—” his threatening gaze slid to my swollen belly. This was my only lifeline. He was satisfied with the instant paleness of my face. “I want to see your clarification statement before I leave the country.” “Sarah hasn’t been feeling well lately. I’m taking her to Iceland to relax. She’s always loved the Northern Lights there.”

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Ten years after I left the real world, the System found me again. It said that the original female protagonist, who had been sent to the past, failed to save my husband and child, and now all the major villains had gone rogue. It told me to go back and clean up the mess. Before I could answer, I saw the live comments. [Is this the “White Moonlight” big sis? She doesn’t look like much.] [Even Little Sis, so bright and kind, pouring her heart out, couldn’t warm the hearts of that villainous father and son. Clearly, some evil is just born in their bones, unworthy of redemption.] [Bad seed, bad crop. What kind of respectable person could raise such an obnoxious brat?] [Birds of a feather, flock together. The villainous father and son, along with this White Moonlight sis and her whole family, should all hold hands and drop dead, okay?] 1 Ten years ago, when I died from complications during childbirth, my body had already given up. To make it easier for me to re-engage with the story, the System gave me a new identity: Luke Asher’s homeroom teacher. I dutifully worked for a few days, but I never once saw Luke Asher in class. An older, more experienced teacher advised me: “That child, it’s best to just leave him alone. His family is powerful and influential; he’s beyond the scope of us working stiffs.” I subtly inquired about Luke Asher’s situation. “A typical problem child. Bad-tempered, rude, never speaks, always scowling. His grades are terrible, and he bullies other students. Previous teachers tried to discipline him, but his family made one phone call and the teacher was immediately fired. With such unreasonable parents, there’s nothing we teachers can do.” I fell silent. Seven years. I never thought Mark Asher would raise our child like this. I flipped through the student files left by the previous homeroom teacher. I found Mark Asher’s number and dialed it. After a long wait, a distinguished yet indifferent voice answered. “Who is this?” My heart fluttered. I took a deep breath, trying to sound as calm as possible: “Mr. Asher, hello. I’m Luke Asher’s new homeroom teacher. Luke hasn’t been to school for several days. Is there any particular reason?” Mark Asher’s voice remained flat. “Luke Asher hasn’t gone to school? He’s probably just in a bad mood again. Don’t worry about it. You don’t need to contact me for such trivial matters in the future.” With that, he hung up without giving me time to react. I stared blankly at the dial tone. An inexplicable anger flared in my chest. Such a permissive, hands-off attitude. No wonder Luke Asher had developed so many issues. 2 After work, I went directly to Luke Asher’s home, under the guise of a home visit. As soon as I entered the living room, I heard the intense sounds of a video game battle, accompanied by angry curses. “Idiot teammate, put a hotdog on your phone, even a dog would play better than you. You brain-dead moron, you play like garbage.” The childish voice, coupled with vulgar profanity, was extremely jarring. [That little bastard is so ill-mannered, such a foul mouth at such a young age.] [Seeing this kind of brat just makes me want to whip him with a belt. Born of a mother, raised by no one.] A pang of pain shot through my heart. I walked up to Luke Asher, not rushing to interrupt his game. Instead, I waited until he finished a round before speaking. “Luke Asher, I’m your new homeroom teacher. My name is Yu, you can call me Miss Yu.” My gaze lingered greedily on his young face. Luke Asher’s facial contours were somewhat like mine, soft and smooth. His features, however, were a miniature version of Mark Asher’s. Sharp eyebrows, bright eyes, a prominent nose. He clearly looked like a charming, adorable child. Yet, there was an undeniable streak of aggression in his eyes. Upon hearing that I was his new homeroom teacher, a flicker of impatience crossed Luke Asher’s face. “Homeroom teacher, what are you doing at my house? Didn’t anyone tell you not to bother me?” He puffed out his chest. “My dad donates five to six million to the school every year. Your salary comes from him, so what right do you have to tell me what to do?” [So young and already knows how to bully others with power. No wonder he’ll grow up to be a degenerate, indulging in all sorts of vices.] [In the ending, this little brat breaks the law and gets locked up for ten years. Serves him right.] Hmph. “First, my salary is paid by the government. Your dad’s donations have nothing to do with me. And—” I reached out, unexpectedly taking Luke Asher’s phone. I glanced at his game rank. Gold. I couldn’t help but click my tongue. Skipping school for Gold rank? Pathetic. He should at least get to Challenger first! “Give me back my phone!” Luke Asher stood on tiptoes, trying to snatch his phone back. He looked so huffy, wanting to grab it but too short to reach. Adorably exasperating. I couldn’t resist pinching the baby fat on Luke Asher’s cheek. He quickly snatched his phone back, glaring at me. “My old nanny said that interest is the best teacher. The most important thing in education is happiness. My family is so rich, I can confidently do anything I want.” Luke Asher’s former nanny was the female protagonist of this book. By rights, she should have, with her sunny disposition, warmed the hearts of the Asher father and son, and redeemed them. But clearly, she had failed. Luke Asher had become this spoiled and willful. I lazily pulled out my own phone. “Want to play a solo game?” Luke Asher didn’t react for a moment, surprised. “Huh? With me? You play games, teacher?” He looked so dumbfounded, quite cute. “Yep.” I opened the game. 3 In just one hour, Luke Asher was utterly obliterated by me thirty times. By the end, his eyes were red, his mouth downturned. He looked like he was desperately trying not to cry. “Still want to play?” I yawned. “I’m not playing with you anymore.” Luke Asher turned his head away, sulking. “You’re an adult, bullying a kid like me, what kind of skill is that? I’m never playing with you again!” “Really?” I said calmly, “Type ‘1’ if you want me to carry you to Challenger. Guaranteed carry.” Luke Asher immediately turned his head, looking at me with starry eyes. “…” I couldn’t help but be amused by him. “Just one thing. I have a really foul mouth. When I play games, I love to curse. Like what you were just saying, tsk.” I stared at Luke Asher, impassively repeating his earlier words: “Idiot teammate, put a hotdog on your phone, even a dog would play better than you. You brain-dead moron, you play like garbage.” Luke Asher’s face instantly flushed crimson. I smiled. “Doesn’t feel good to be cursed at, does it?” Luke Asher lowered his head, stammering, “I… I know. I’m sorry, Miss Yu. I won’t curse casually anymore.” Teachable. It seemed this child wasn’t as bad as the live comments claimed. I patted his head with satisfaction. Luke Asher looked up, a little puzzled. “Oh, right, Miss Yu. Weren’t you here to convince me to go to school?” Why had we suddenly started playing games? “Hm? Did I say that?” I blinked at Luke Asher. “But since you brought it up yourself, it means you know not going to school is wrong. In that case, pack your things and come to class tomorrow.” With that, I got up and left without a second thought. Before leaving, I waved at him. “See you tomorrow. I’ll carry you to Challenger then.” 4 The next day, I indeed saw Luke Asher in class. He sat in the back corner of the classroom, coldly scowling out the window, not interacting with anyone. During break, students chatted and played. He scoffed dismissively. Turning his head, he ignored everyone. Little rascal, quite proud. After I finished the lesson, I handed out a short pop quiz. I wanted to test the students’ understanding of the material. The moment he received the quiz, Luke Asher’s brows furrowed. His small face crinkled up. After glancing at it a few more times, perhaps out of spite, Luke Asher crumpled the quiz paper into a ball and threw it into his desk. Then he slumped onto the desk and began to nap. However, the restless twitching of his fingertips revealed… Luke Asher wasn’t actually asleep. [This little idiot probably can’t even understand the questions.] [He’s scored 0 so many times. Hilarious, getting 0 in third grade. Seriously, underdeveloped cerebellum, completely undeveloped brain.] [Both bad and stupid, a pure waste.] As soon as the bell rang for the end of class, Luke Asher rushed out of the classroom without looking back. “Luke Asher.” I called out to him. “Don’t leave yet, I need to talk to you.” Luke Asher’s body stiffened, and he reluctantly walked over. The other children bolted out of the classroom like arrows. A few even made faces as they passed him. “Luke Asher is being kept behind again~” His expression grew increasingly sour. His hands clenched into tight fists, glaring angrily at them. [Whoa, hyperactive aggression kicking in? Wants to hit someone again?] [What kind of look is that from the little brat, it’s really annoying to see.] I gave those grimacing students a cold glance. “If you don’t want to go home, stay and clean. I asked Luke Asher to stay because I need his help. Not to scold him.” Children’s malice is straightforward and sharp. From observing him all day, I had already noticed that Luke Asher wasn’t very popular in class. He didn’t initiate conversations with anyone. Other students also kept their distance from him. Although these classmates hadn’t been overtly malicious, a child’s heart is the most sensitive. They can pick up on the most subtle mockery and ridicule. I didn’t want them to deepen their negative impression of Luke Asher, nor did I want Luke Asher to feel sad because of it. So, it was necessary to clarify. The students listened, looking a bit sheepish. “Sorry, Miss Yu, we didn’t mean it.” Luke Asher’s lips almost curved upwards, but catching my gaze, he quickly turned his head away dismissively, putting on a cool facade. …Childish. After everyone had left, Luke Asher hesitantly approached me. He spoke curtly, “What do you need me for?” I pulled out my phone. “Our promise to get you to Challenger, did you forget?” Luke Asher looked up at me, surprised. “You kept me back for this?” “Why else?” I naturally opened the game. “Less dawdling.” After two or three games, Luke Asher was distracted. His already poor gaming skills worsened, feeding the opposing team kills in every match. Seeing that the game was unplayable, I pouted. “What’s going on? You’re in such bad form today?” Luke Asher lowered his head dejectedly, instinctively twisting the hem of his shirt. His voice was low: “I thought you kept me back to ask me why I handed in a blank quiz…” “Oh, right. So why did you hand in a blank quiz?” Luke Asher’s face turned crimson. He turned his head away in embarrassment. “I… I couldn’t do it. I don’t recognize any of those concepts…” His round eyes misted over. “Miss Yu, do you also think I’m especially stupid?” Luke Asher sniffled. “My old nanny used to say, being stupid isn’t scary. As long as you work hard, even a slow bird can fly first. But I’ve worked so hard, and I still always come in last in tests…” I couldn’t help but retort: “What have you worked hard on? Working hard at ranked games? I looked at your old attendance records; you only came to school once or twice a semester. With that kind of diligence, who else would be last? For you to be last, that’s exactly what should happen. If you could still be at the top like that, then you’d be a reincarnated prodigy.” Luke Asher’s face flushed bright red. After a while, he hesitantly asked: “So, so that means I’m not stupid, right? I just don’t try hard enough to study. If I really put my mind to it, I’d definitely be better than all of them.” “No, I didn’t say that either,” I interrupted gently. “Given your current study habits, I can’t tell anything. Maybe you really are stupid, or maybe you’re a hidden genius. But whether you’re stupid or a genius, if you’re my student, you need to attend class properly. From today on, you’ll stay two extra hours after school every day. I’ll tutor you from scratch. By the next pop quiz, I hope you won’t hand in a blank paper.” Luke Asher clenched his fists and nodded. “Understood, Miss Yu.” [How come White Moonlight sis seems to be teaching really well? She’s not putting the student down, nor is she just blindly praising him, but being realistic.] [Of course, this is her own son, how could she not care? But the little villain’s nature is like mud, he’ll never be able to stand on his own two feet. Just wait and see.]

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Six years into our secret marriage with Elias Coolidge, we decided on a secret divorce. To spare his new girlfriend from the ignominy of being called a home-wrecker, he said, “I don’t want anyone to know we were ever married.” I nodded, said nothing, and simply added an extra zero to the property settlement. Elias’s face changed. “In your heart, is there really nothing but money?” I chuckled softly. “After all these years, you still know me best.” 1 Elias Coolidge ended up in the hospital after a night of heavy drinking. The nurse asked, “Who is the patient’s family?” Both I and Sarah Hayes stood up simultaneously. “I am.” “It’s me.” The nurse frowned. “Who is it, really?” Sarah quickly stepped forward. “It’s me. Tell me anything you need to.” The nurse began explaining the instructions for staying overnight. Sarah listened intently. I glanced at Elias. His breathing was heavy, his brows furrowed, the corners of his eyes flushed red, but his lips were pale and bloodless. It had been years since I’d seen him like this. Drinking tolerance, while something you could build, was mostly about one’s constitution. And Elias, unfortunately, was allergic to alcohol. Sarah, her eyes welling with tears, warmed his hand. For the ‘other woman’ to be so dedicated, I, the actual wife, felt quite awkward. As I hesitated whether to just leave, she spoke. “It’s all my fault. If it weren’t for me, he wouldn’t have drunk so much.” My assistant had already filled me in on the details before I arrived. At the banquet, someone had approached Sarah, trying to get her to drink. Elias had intervened. The man had sneered, “A man who’s afraid to drink? You’re better off with me.” Elias was long past the age of impulsive bravado. But that night, he’d gotten heated and started a drinking contest. Anyone who knew Elias knew he wasn’t a strong drinker. But if he was determined to drink himself to death, you probably couldn’t outdrink him. In his wild, reckless youth, he’d landed in the hospital several times for such behavior. The last time was in our second year of marriage. He’d coughed up blood in the hospital, and I’d been in a car crash on the highway. After that, he changed. Sarah asked, “Ms. Jensen, did he use to protect you like that?” I forced a smile. “You stay with him; I’ll head back.” “Ms. Jensen.” Sarah’s voice was urgent. She bit her lip, as if making up her mind. “I told Elias I wanted to get married, and he said yes.” 2 Two days prior, I’d turned my car around and rushed back to the office, having forgotten something important. Passing Elias’s office, the lights were still on. Sarah was sitting sideways on Elias’s lap, her arms wrapped around his neck, nestled in his embrace. She cooed, “Elias, I want to get married.” I didn’t have a habit of eavesdropping. But that sentence made me stop in my tracks. Elias had a casual smile on his face, his eyes slightly narrowed, as he stroked Sarah’s long hair over and over again. “What, little lady in a hurry to get hitched?” “No way!” Sarah hummed. “I just want to marry you. Elias, will you marry me, please?” I stood outside the door, watching Elias through the half-open crack. He was silent for a long time. The smile faded from his face. He met my gaze steadily. Then he softly said, “Okay.” “Ms. Jensen, Elias doesn’t love you anymore. He loves me now.” Sarah’s voice was full of conviction. She looked at me, nervous and proud. I lowered my eyes. “Then congratulations.” 3 Elias returned to the office the next afternoon. As soon as he entered his office, he called for me. Pushing open the door, I saw him propping his head wearily, pressing his thumb hard against his temple. The after-effects of a hangover, a migraine, had set in. “Organize the ‘Bright Horizons’ project and hand it over to Sarah.” His sudden instruction left me stunned for a few seconds. “What?” He didn’t repeat himself, just looked at me with heavy eyes. “The Bright Horizons project is crucial. Sarah is just starting out… So she needs an opportunity, a big win, a glittering resume.” I fell silent again. “Cara Jensen, I’m not discussing this with you.” Elias rapped his knuckles sharply on the table. He was clearly impatient. Taking a deep breath, my clenched fists relaxed. “Alright. But I have one condition.” Elias raised his chin, signaling me to speak. “Keep the original team, just make her the head. The bonuses and dividends for the project members, not a cent less.” “Fine, I agree.” After receiving Elias’s affirmative answer, I turned and left. I spent an hour and a half organizing everything and explaining the situation to the team. Their gazes at me held pity, sympathy, indignation, and anger. I tapped on the table. “Don’t get emotional; don’t talk about loyalty. It’s just work. Get it done, get paid.” Carrying the documents, I re-entered Elias’s office. Sarah was there too, smiling as she fed Elias a cookie. Elias disliked all sweets. Though he frowned, he reluctantly accepted it. Seeing me, Sarah quickly stood up straight. “You two have business, I’ll step out.” “No need.” Elias placed the cookie box in Sarah’s hand. “Eat over there.” Then he looked at me, his tone unfriendly. “Next time, remember to knock.” Had I not knocked? I guess I hadn’t. It was habit. “There won’t be a next time.” “What?” I placed all the files on Elias’s desk. Meeting his questioning gaze, I handed him the bottom A4 sheet of paper. It clearly stated: Resignation Letter. Elias paused for two seconds. When he looked up again, his eyes were cold. “What do you mean? Are you threatening me?” I hesitated. “You’re overthinking it. The resignation letter has been ready for a while, just waiting for the Bright Horizons project to end. Now that I’ve handed it over, all my tasks are complete. It’s the perfect time to resign.” Elias stared at me, his face grim. Sarah seemed scared. “Ms. Jensen, I won’t do this project. Please don’t be angry. I know I’m not qualified. I just wanted to learn from you. I won’t participate. It’s my fault, I apologize.” Elias’s expression turned even darker. He grabbed Sarah. “You do it if you want to. You don’t need to apologize to anyone. Resigning, are you? Do you think the company won’t run without you?” Elias picked up a pen and scrawled his name at the bottom. He threw the resignation letter at me. “Get out.” I looked down at the paper lying at my feet. “One more thing.” Elias’s face was taut, silent. “Since you and Sarah are getting married, shouldn’t we first end our marriage?” Even Sarah’s sobs stopped. She gripped Elias’s arm, looking at him with a mix of nervousness and anticipation. Elias’s frame stiffened slightly. He slowly turned his head. “What did you say?” “I said, let’s get a divorce while we’re at it!” 4 Sarah was dismissed by Elias. She was somewhat reluctant but didn’t defy him, only casting me a hesitant glance as she left. Elias and I stood facing each other. He broke the silence first. “How long have you been planning this resignation?” “Six months.” “So you were ready to divorce six months ago, right?” I neither confirmed nor denied. Elias scoffed. “Cara Jensen, what right do you have to ask for a divorce?” I looked at him. “Does it matter now?” “No, it doesn’t.” Elias took a divorce agreement from his bottom drawer. “You can name any terms you want. Just one thing: I don’t want anyone to gossip about Sarah being the other woman. So no one can know about our divorce. Or rather, I don’t want anyone to know we were ever married.” I scanned the agreement’s contents quickly. I nodded. “Okay, no problem.” Then I picked up the pen and added an extra zero to the property division. Elias looked at me with a sarcastic gaze. “Cara Jensen, in your heart, is there really nothing but money?” I curled my lips. “After all these years, you still know me best.” 5 That day, I packed all my belongings and left the company. Some people were gleeful, others genuinely sad to see me go. The most complex emotions, however, must have belonged to Sarah. She looked like she wanted to say something, but the relief on her face was clear for all to see. Back home, suddenly without work, I felt a little out of place. I spent the whole day like a cat with its tail cut off, unsure what to do with myself. In the afternoon, my assistant sent me a message. [Mr. Coolidge was like a fire-breathing dragon today. Even the future boss lady got a dressing down. Ms. Jensen, I believe it won’t be long before he realizes he’s cut off his own artery. If you find a good new place, take us with you, please! We’d all love to follow you, hehe.] I curved my lips. [Don’t overthink it. As long as the Bright Horizons project is secured, the company still has a promising future. At least your salaries won’t suffer.] As for me—I had no plans to work in the short term. In the evening, Olivia called me to go out for drinks. Like clockwork, she asked daily. I replied: [Send me the location.] The next second, her call came in. “Well, I’ll be damned. The workaholic is taking a break? What, did Elias go bankrupt?” Hearing her vibrant voice, a smile touched my lips. “So, are you going to let me come or not?” “Come on, hurry up! Private room, drinks, men—we’ve got everything!” I met Olivia through Elias, but we unexpectedly became friends. She was one of the few people who knew Elias and I were married. So, facing Elias’s blatant infidelity, she resented him fiercely on one hand and dedicated herself to setting me up with men on the other. In her words, “If he pulls a stunt, don’t blame you for pulling an even bigger one. Who knows whose market value is better!” By the time I arrived, Olivia was already high-spirited. She held a wine glass, screaming and dancing, surrounded by a group of six-foot-tall male models. “Cara, come here.” She pushed the most handsome one towards me. The guy was smooth, calling me “sis” while pouring me a drink. I smiled faintly and took a sip. “Alright, you guys can head out now!” “No, what do you mean?! Cara, you’re such a buzzkill.” I rubbed my temples, helplessly. “Too loud.” She winked at me. “I thought you were shy!” I raised an eyebrow. “Am I that innocent in your eyes?” “Not at all. So I don’t get it. Elias is like that, why are you being so faithful to him?” Olivia was bluntly exasperating. “If he cheats, I cheat. That’s revenge.” “Revenge is too strong a word; we’re not at that point. Besides, his cheating happened after our breakup.” … “Does he acknowledge it?” Olivia sat up straight, her eyes gleaming. “I think I’ve found a crucial point.” I asked Olivia what she meant, but she wouldn’t say, just acting cryptic. “Alright! Actually, I mainly came to tell you that I’m going abroad soon.” “What, for vacation? Business?” “School.” “Huh?” “I got accepted into business school; I’m going for my master’s.” “What about your job? And you and Elias…” “I’ve already resigned. As for Elias and me, we’ve arranged to go to the courthouse tomorrow.” It was almost inevitable that Elias and I would reach this point. I always felt I didn’t have much emotion about it. Yet, when Olivia’s eyes turned red, a bitterness still welled up in my heart. “Is he being a jerk again?” “No.” “Is he intentionally targeting you?” “No.” “Why did you resign? If anyone should go, it should be him!” Olivia and I drank glass after glass. She railed against Elias, empathizing with my pain and feeling I deserved better. Perhaps love is the only thing in this world where input and reward are disproportionate. It’s strange; two people who once loved each other end up feeling shortchanged. 6 Elias and I met in high school. He shouldn’t have been in our small town, but due to family circumstances, he had to transfer to live with his grandfather. Back then, he was willful and rebellious. Not long after school started, he was among the first to be publicly reprimanded. Others, at least, were humble when admitting their mistakes. But he, even standing before the entire school, remained insolent. I disliked people like that. And I didn’t want any interaction with them. Yet, when he was falsely accused, I couldn’t help but step forward and testify for him. From that day on, he followed me, from school to my house, staying until I went upstairs. “Without me, you would have been retaliated against by now.” “Good student, stay out of such matters in the future.” He didn’t care. Fights, false accusations, misunderstandings, punishments – he didn’t care about any of it. But when my dad’s fist, having just struck my mom, was about to land on me, he rushed forward and knocked him down with a kick. My mom screamed, helped my dad up, glared at me, and called me a slut. Elias froze. The next second, he grabbed me and ran. He cooked me a bowl of noodles. It had cooked too long and was clumpy. Too much soy sauce, a bit too salty. The greens were added too late, completely raw. It was the worst bowl of noodles I’d ever tasted, yet I ate every last drop, even the broth. In our turbulent youth, two lonely souls, we found warmth in each other, supporting each other as we moved forward. But everyone was against us. The school opposed early romance. Elias’s family was condescending. “I’ve seen plenty of gold-diggers, but this young is a first.” My mom’s eyes turned red with anger. She slapped me, calling me a disgrace. Elias was forcibly taken away, and I became an outcast at school. But he escaped, with all his New Year’s money, and a bruised leg. He said, “Let’s elope!” I held him, resting my head against his. “One year. We’ll get into the same university. Then no one can stop us. Just one year.”

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I took my five-month-old daughter back to my hometown, but the neighbor’s kid took advantage of my inattention. He took my daughter and threw her into the old freezer in our family’s convenience store. I searched frantically all night, and finally, driven by some inexplicable force, glanced at the freezer. When I opened it, my daughter’s frozen, stiff body caused me to break down on the spot! I rushed her to the hospital with all my might, but the doctor pronounced her dead on arrival. After calling the police, they discovered through surveillance footage. The one who threw my daughter into the freezer was the 10-year-old kid from next door! But because he was too young, he didn’t have to bear criminal responsibility. They wanted to just pay me tens of thousands of dollars and brush it off. I was unwilling to let it go, holding a knife, wanting to personally avenge my daughter. But halfway there, I was hit by a Volvo and sent flying, and it even ran over me a few times back and forth. Only leaving the scene after making sure I was dead. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to that afternoon when I first arrived in my hometown. 1 When I came back, there was a moment of daze. Subconsciously looking at my arms and finding my child wasn’t there, I immediately rushed into the bedroom. Looking at the baby lying in the crib, reaching out to me. My heart settled, and I immediately grabbed the child and rushed to my sister’s house. Asking my sister to help take care of her for a bit. Then pretending nothing happened and going back, as if nothing had occurred. Because I wanted to know what the neighbor’s little demon’s purpose really was. I chatted at my sister’s house for a long time. On the way back, I saw the neighbor’s kid smiling at me at the door. The same expression as in my previous life, it made my hair stand on end. He seemed to know me, calling me Uncle Arthur. I nodded with a complex expression. Thinking it might be because my parents often mentioned me when chatting. Just as I was about to go upstairs, I found him following behind me. In the pitch-black stairwell, I could hear different footsteps. When I went up a floor, he followed up a floor. It wasn’t until I sped up and reached my door that he skipped away home. My dad opened the door and asked anxiously: “Where did you go this afternoon? Did you take the child?” When I took Mia away, I didn’t say anything to my parents. Just as I was about to nod, a scream suddenly came from downstairs! It sounded like my mom’s voice. My heart jolted, and I immediately ran downstairs and rushed into the convenience store. “Mom, what’s wrong? What happened?” When my mom pointed trembling at the freezer, I walked over. Opening it, I was shocked to see a frozen infant inside! 2 I am very certain that Mia was sent to my sister’s house by me. Then who is the infant in the freezer? Looking like it was also put in this afternoon, it was already frozen stiff. With a purplish face, plus frost on the eyelashes. It was very difficult to see the infant’s specific facial features clearly. When had my mom ever seen such a scene? Her whole face turned deathly pale from fright, and she almost passed out in the middle. She kept asking me if the baby in the freezer was real. I didn’t know how to answer her. So I asked my father, who had followed me, to accompany my mom and take care of her first. Then I took out my phone and dialed 911 directly. During this time, the doorway was crowded with many neighbors. They all heard my mom’s scream and came over to watch the commotion. I lowered my head and pondered, who exactly was this infant. Just looking at the facial features, it actually bore some resemblance to Mia. But I swear, I had never seen this child before. And I could be 100% certain. This infant must have been thrown in by the neighbor’s kid. I suddenly understood why he smiled at me earlier. That was a smug smile! Thinking back to my previous life, if I hadn’t sent my daughter to my sister’s house in time. The one lying in the freezer now would probably be Mia again! I was very scared in hindsight, every hair on my body standing up. Until I saw the neighbor’s kid in the crowd, pretending to be curious and innocent. I suddenly walked over and grabbed his wrist. “Tell me, did you do it?!” I remembered his name was Tommy, an absolute little terror. He shook off my hand and looked at me with feigned grievance. “Uncle, did I do something wrong? Why are you grabbing me?” Only then did I realize everyone around was staring at me. But I still couldn’t help but yell at him: “Don’t you know what you did?” “When the police arrive later, I advise you to turn yourself in!” After all, that was a fresh human life. Not to mention an infant, frozen alive to death in a freezer just like that. Even if it wasn’t my Mia, I couldn’t pretend it didn’t happen! Tommy’s dad also arrived at the scene. Seeing me grabbing his son, he immediately came over and shoved me. Pointing at me and cursing: “You lunatic, what are you trying to do to my son?!” “He killed someone, what do you think?” I replied. A trace of panic flashed across David’s eyes. He quickly denied that his son killed anyone, and even said I was fabricating things. I grabbed his collar, dragged him in front of the freezer, and questioned him. “Open your eyes wide and look carefully!” David just glanced at it and didn’t continue looking. He asked me what basis I had for concluding his son did it, and told me not to spout nonsense. I kept a dark face, my gaze dead set on him. “The store has surveillance, why do you think I would know?” I was just bluffing him; the store didn’t have surveillance at all. David seemed to know our store inside out, telling me not to lie to him. Whether there was any, he knew better than I did. What I didn’t expect was my wife Chloe suddenly rushing in. She forcefully grabbed my wrist, looking completely out of her mind. “Where is the child? Where is our child?” “I told you long ago not to take her on a long trip by yourself, but you just wouldn’t listen!!!” 3 My wife’s questioning and blame baffled me. Although it overlapped with her reaction in the previous life, the baby in the freezer wasn’t our child at all. Why would she conclude that the one frozen to death was Mia? I didn’t immediately reveal the truth, but chose to play along. “Weren’t you on a business trip?” “I finished my work, can’t I be worried that you can’t handle the child alone?” “Looks like I was right, you killed my Mia!” She wept bitterly, her whole face twisting. She also yelled at my parents: “My daughter is gone, and you guys are responsible too!” My parents were dumbfounded, never having thought the frozen baby could be Mia. Hearing Chloe say this. My mom cried heartbrokenly, almost fainting several times. My dad was stunned for a long time, unable to react. “Give me back my daughter!!!” My wife hysterically yelled at my parents. Then she turned around, her eyes red, and cursed at me: “You are the real murderer who killed my daughter!” “If you hadn’t brought Mia back, would she have been in an accident?!” I, on the other hand, calmed down a lot. Quietly observing my wife’s expression, the kind that is dramatic and very desperate. But my intuition told me things weren’t that simple. Who exactly is the infant in the freezer? I took Mia to my sister’s, so where did Tommy get an infant? I asked her, “You haven’t even taken one look at the infant in the freezer, and you’re saying it’s our daughter?” “Do I need to look? I just heard about it!” “Heard from whom?” Seeing I wanted to get to the bottom of it, she suddenly became impatient. Turning it around and questioning me, “Can you not change the subject?” “You took Mia away, and now that something happened, you want to blame me?” I shook my head, appearing very calm. “I wasn’t trying to blame you, just purely curious.” Just as I finished speaking, my wife slapped me right there on the spot! “You useless piece of trash, what part of you is like a man?” “In your eyes, there is only yourself!” “No, your whole family is like this, none of you will have a good end!” 4 My wife firmly believed it was our family’s negligence that led to the child’s death. Whether it was the time, location, or the words spoken, it was no different from my previous life. The only thing that changed was the frozen infant, it wasn’t my Mia. Every action of hers made me feel very suspicious. The neighbors outside were blocked from coming in, all asking what the situation was. I ignored them, but told my wife I had already called the police. Let’s find the murderer first. But she said I had a guilty conscience. Clearly, I was the murderer, what else was there to argue about. My parents doted on Mia more than I did. They would often urge me to bring the child back, just so they could see her more. When they learned the child was gone, their level of sadness was no less than mine. But my dad could only comfort her, “Chloe, it’s all our fault, this has nothing to do with Arthur.” “If you want to be angry and throw a fit, aim it at us. We let you down.” Chloe didn’t get angry but instead looked at them with a smile. Those eyes were gloomy to the extreme. “If it wasn’t for you guys pushing him every day to bring Mia back, would Mia have had an accident?” “This was originally your fault, none of you can escape responsibility!” Unable to bear it any longer, I reminded her, “Have you said enough? If you’ve said enough, just wait for the police to come and handle it.” “And then what? Will the police coming bring my Mia back to life?” “She’s only five months old, give me back my child!” My wife’s words and actions seemed increasingly off. From the time we had Mia to bringing her back to my hometown today. She rarely interacted with her, and hadn’t even held her a few times. This made me suspect she didn’t love our child at all, so why was she so agitated now? My dad sighed repeatedly, clearly blaming himself very much. I really wanted to tell them Mia wasn’t dead. I had sent her to my sister’s house, and she should be sleeping right now. But my wife’s abnormal behavior definitely pointed to a problem. When I looked at Tommy again, I saw him looking at me with a half-smile. That demon-like gaze made me involuntarily shudder. I tried my best to calm myself down. I said calmly to him: “I hope you can step forward and admit your mistake voluntarily.” Tommy immediately shrank behind his dad, looking very nervous. But I knew this was all an act. In my previous life, his family only paid money, without a single apology throughout the whole process. And this little demon didn’t even need to bear any legal responsibility. He remained exactly the same as he usually was. Going to school as usual, playing as usual. The kicker was, he actually claimed he put Mia in the freezer because he was imitating a TV show. I didn’t care if he learned it from TV or not. I only knew my Mia was gone, while the real murderer was still at large! David shielded his son, glaring at me angrily. Looking very much ready to start a fight over a disagreement. My wife also spoke up for the outsiders, telling me not to evade responsibility anymore. I looked outside the door and noticed Mr. Smith leaning on his cane. He had a body camera hanging on his chest. Because he was a bit forgetful, his family bought it for him for safety reasons. It could provide real-time feedback on his location and surrounding environment. I went up and asked him, “Sir, could I borrow this for a bit?” Being neighbors, Mr. Smith naturally agreed readily. I took the body camera back into the store, while my wife and David frowned. Not long after, I found the footage of Tommy carrying the infant into the convenience store.

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My family’s old estate was demolished, and we received a six million dollar payout. On the day the money was distributed, my parents stuffed the bankbook into my younger brother’s pocket and then handed me a bag of moldy local specialties. My dad avoided my gaze: “You’ll get married sooner or later. Giving you the money is just giving it away to outsiders. Your mom dried these sweet potatoes herself; don’t be ungrateful.” I smiled. To treat his lung cancer over the past five years, I had spent over four million dollars out of my own pocket. Even the $1.2 million imported targeted therapy drug currently being processed was paid for by me in advance. Right in front of them, I took out my phone and swiped to the chat with the pharmaceutical agent. “Ms. Smith, the drug has arrived. Should we make the payment and lock in the order now?” I replied word by word: “I don’t want it anymore. Process the refund and give it to the next person in line.” 1 It was Thanksgiving, and the house was bustling with activity. The table was covered in heavy, greasy, and salty dishes—all things I didn’t like. My mom, Martha, smiled so broadly her face wrinkled, constantly putting food on my plate. “Chloe, eat more. Mom specifically bought these ribs. It’s rare for our whole family to gather together for the holidays.” My younger brother, Liam, sat opposite me, jiggling his leg, his face glowing. His wife, Sarah, was busy calculating on her phone, grinning from ear to ear. My dad, David, sat at the head of the table, a cigarette pinched between his fingers. Under the swirling smoke, his expression was somewhat obscured. “Ahem, let me say a few words.” David cleared his throat and looked around. “It’s the holiday season, and our family has double the joy. The compensation for the old estate’s demolition has also come through.” I put down my fork, waiting for what came next. On the phone, Liam had solemnly promised that the six million would be split evenly between us siblings. To be honest, I didn’t lack that three million. Although my logistics company wasn’t huge, the cash flow had always been healthy. What I cared about was the attitude. For so many years, I had been dragging this family forward like an old ox. When David was diagnosed with a lung tumor five years ago, I was the one running around finding specialists. I was also the one who drained my savings back then to keep him on the expensive imported targeted therapy drug. That drug cost tens of thousands of dollars per injection. Over five years, millions had been poured into it. And Liam? Besides stretching out his hand for money, he just cried poor. If they could just treat us equally this time, even if it was just a gesture, I would feel comforted. David pulled a bankbook from his pocket and picked up a red plastic bag from by his feet. “Chloe,” David called my name and stubbed out his cigarette hard. I had told him more than once to stop smoking. But relying on the targeted therapy, he always did whatever he wanted, even complaining that I was trying to control my old man. “You’ve always been sensible and the most filial since you were little.” Hearing these words, my heart sank. This was his opening line every time they wanted me to give up my interests. “About this six million, your mom and I discussed it for a long time, and we’ve decided to give it to Liam.” David pushed the bankbook in front of Liam. Sarah was quick; she grabbed the bankbook and clutched it tightly, afraid it might fly away. Liam chuckled: “Thanks, Mom and Dad.” Only that red plastic bag was left on the table. David pushed it in front of me. “Chloe, these are dried sweet potatoes and peanuts from our hometown. They were grown by our family, all organic.” “You’ll get married sooner or later. If this money is given to you, it’s just a bargain for outsiders.” “Your brother just had a second child, the pressure is high, and he needs to buy a bigger house.” “As for you, your conditions are good, and you’re a boss. Don’t bicker with your own brother over this; don’t be ungrateful.” It was supposed to be a lively holiday moment, but the room was terrifyingly quiet. I looked at the plastic bag; it was a bit dirty, with mud spots on it. This was the fair treatment I got after five years and millions in medical bills. This was what they called treating us equally. Dried sweet potatoes, peanuts. Who will speak up for me? I didn’t speak, just quietly looked at David. He felt a bit guilty and turned his head to look at Liam. Martha tried to smooth things over: “Chloe, your dad is in poor health, he still needs to rely on this money for his retirement. Although it was given to your brother, he said he’ll be responsible for taking care of us in our old age.” I glanced at Liam, who was swiping on his phone, planning what new car to buy. Relying on him for retirement? The sun will rise in the west. Since you rely on Liam, then I don’t need to play the part of the great, filial daughter anymore. I picked up my phone and opened the chat with the pharmaceutical agent. It showed: [Ms. Smith, it’s time to transfer the 1.2 million advance payment for the next course of treatment. We need to lock in the order.] That was David’s life-saving drug. Supply that was extremely difficult to get domestically. My finger paused on the screen for a second, then I replied: [I don’t want it anymore.] The other side replied instantly: [Ms. Smith, are you sure? If this is cut off, the goods will immediately be given to someone else. It’ll be hard to get back in line.] I replied: [I’m sure.] After sending this message, I placed my phone face down on the table. “Okay.” I stood up and picked up the plastic bag. “I’ll accept this holiday gift.” “Since the six million was given to my brother, then Dad’s future retirement and medical care are also entirely my brother’s responsibility now.” Liam patted his chest: “Of course. I’m the pillar of this family, unlike some outsiders…” Sarah rolled her eyes beside him, seeming to notice something was wrong, and hurriedly stopped Liam. David nodded in satisfaction: “You really have to rely on a son for old age.” I smiled, a somewhat cold smile, turned around, and left. “Alright, then I’ll be going now. Remember what you said today.” Behind me came Martha’s shout: “Chloe, we haven’t even finished eating, why are you leaving? You’re becoming more and more outrageous.” 2 Walking out the door, I threw the plastic bag into the trash can. All the dried sweet potatoes spilled out, some already moldy. Just like my decaying, moldy familial affection. Returning to the company, I called the Chief Financial Officer. “Check how long until the guarantee we provided for Liam’s trading company expires?” “Ms. Smith, there are still three months.” “Notify the bank that we won’t renew the guarantee upon expiration. Also, send a formal letter to Liam demanding he immediately return the three batches of loan payments he borrowed, totaling eight hundred thousand.” The CFO was clearly stunned for a moment: “Ms. Smith, that’s your own brother…” “Business is business.” After handling these matters, my phone vibrated. It was from the pharmaceutical agent: [Ms. Smith, the procedures are done. The supply over there has already been transferred to another patient in urgent need of targeted therapy.] For the next week, all was calm. Liam was busy looking at cars and houses; his social media was full of it. Sarah posted pictures of newly bought designer bags and jewelry, with the caption: [A man who spoils his wife will prosper. Thank you, hubby.] David and Martha enjoyed the compliments from their neighbors, saying they had raised a successful son. Until the eighth day. David ran out of his medication. That medication was a special injection that required regular visits to the hospital for administration, and it required a supply order confirmed by my signature. So, the phone call came to me. It was Martha, her tone anxious. “Chloe, your dad needs to go to the hospital for his injection. That doctor said the medicine hasn’t arrived and asked you to contact them immediately.” I put the phone on speaker while pruning my plants. “Mom, I’m not buying the medicine anymore.” There was a full five seconds of silence on the other end of the phone, followed by a piercing sound. “What did you say? What nonsense are you talking about? That’s your dad’s life-saving medicine!” “I know. Wasn’t that six million given to Liam? Let him buy it.” Martha became anxious: “That money is for your brother to buy a house! Besides, you’ve always been the one buying that medicine. You have the channels. Your brother doesn’t know anything about this.” “If he doesn’t know, he can learn. He has all the money; do you really expect an outsider like me to pay?” “Chloe, how can you be so cold-blooded!” David’s voice cut in, sounding full of energy. It seemed the attack hadn’t started yet. “So what if I gave the money to Liam? He is the root of the Smith family. You, as spilled water, have no right to control how your old man distributes his money.” “Since I’m spilled water, naturally, this water won’t flow into your medicine jar either.” My tone was calm. “Over these five years, your medical expenses, nursing care fees, and nutritional supplements add up to over four million. Consider it my repayment for you raising me. From now on, we are even.” I hung up the phone and casually blocked the number. The world was quiet. 3 But I clearly underestimated their level of shamelessness. The next day, I was in a meeting. The receptionist ran in, panicking. “Ms. Smith, this is bad! Someone is unfurling a banner at the company entrance and live streaming!” I frowned, got up, walked to the floor-to-ceiling window, and looked down. Downstairs at the company, a banner with black characters on a white background was starkly displayed: [Heartless Daughter Chloe Smith, Worth Millions Yet Refuses to Support Severely Ill Elderly Father. Heaven Cannot Tolerate This!] David sat in a wheelchair, covered with a blanket, his face pale. Martha sat on the ground crying to the heavens, slapping her thighs while wailing. Liam held up a phone, loudly complaining to the surrounding crowd and the audience in the live stream. “Family, you be the judge.” “My sister is a big boss, drives luxury cars, and lives in a mansion. My dad got cancer, and she won’t give a single cent. She even stopped his medication.” “This is forcing her own father to death!” Sarah chimed in from the side: “People like this just have black hearts. She doesn’t even care about her own parents; she must be unethical in business too.” The surrounding crowd, unaware of the truth, pointed fingers, and the popularity of the live stream skyrocketed. A few radical influencers looking to piggyback on the trend even started rushing toward the company’s main entrance, claiming they were going to help educate this unfilial daughter. My assistant was pale with anger. I adjusted my collar and turned to walk out. I was going to let them know that some spectacles are not that easy to join in on. When I reached the company lobby, the security guards had already blocked a group of people. Seeing me come out, Liam immediately aimed the camera at me. “Look, this is Chloe. Everyone, take a good look at this face.” “Chloe, you actually have the face to come out. Dad is dying of pain. Hurry up and get the money, 1.2 million, not a cent less.” Liam roared at me, spit flying everywhere. I looked at him and sneered. “Liam, that six million demolition payout hasn’t even warmed your hands yet, has it?” Liam’s eyes flickered for a moment: “Dad gave that to me. What does that have to do with medical bills!” “Mom and Dad gave you six million, yet you refuse to pay even 1.2 million for medical bills, and you come looking for me, the daughter who didn’t get a single cent?” I faced the camera, my voice clear and powerful. The murmurs around us quieted down a bit. Martha climbed up from the ground, pointed at my nose, and cursed: “That’s your brother’s startup fund! You’re so rich, what’s wrong with pitching in this little bit!” “My money was earned through hard work. It’s not for filling your bottomless pit.” At that moment, a police car arrived with sirens blaring. Several police officers stepped out. “Who called the police?” “I did.” I stepped forward and pointed to the security camera overhead. “Officers, these people are gathering to cause trouble, disrupting the normal business operations of this company, and are also suspected of defamation. I have complete surveillance footage, as well as all transfer records and medical receipts from the past five years.” Hearing this, Liam’s arrogance immediately extinguished. “This is a family matter. The police have no jurisdiction.” “Unfurling a banner at the company entrance and live-streaming defamation is no longer a family matter.” The officer looked at the banner and frowned. “Take them all back to take statements.” David suddenly yelled: “It hurts! Oh, it hurts so much.” He was really in pain; the withdrawal reaction from stopping the medication had begun. That kind of pain that penetrates deep into the bones cannot be endured without the specific medication to suppress it. He curled up in the wheelchair, breaking out in a cold sweat. Liam panicked: “Dad, Dad, what’s wrong?” Sarah, however, subconsciously took a step back, afraid of getting involved. I glanced at David and the others, feeling no sympathy. “If it hurts, go to the hospital. Asking me for money is useless. You have six million in your hands; you can buy the medicine at any hospital.” “Stop putting on a show here.” 4 At the police station, the mediation did not go smoothly. Liam insisted that the six million was a gift and did not include any obligation for support. The police officers’ expressions changed as they looked at the thick stack of evidence I provided. Over five years, a full 4.8 million. Every single transaction was clear, including records of me paying off Liam’s gambling debts and buying Sarah a car. “Mr. Smith, from a legal perspective, your sister has already over-fulfilled her support obligations.” “You, on the other hand, took the six million demolition payout but let your father’s medication run out. This is truly unjustifiable.” Liam stiffened his neck, full of disdain: “My dad voluntarily gave that to me. It’s his money; he can give it to whoever he wants. But my sister is richer than me, so she should pay for his medical expenses!” This kind of robber logic left even the police officers speechless. In the end, because David’s condition had indeed flared up, they had to send him to the hospital first, while warning Liam that if he dared to cause trouble at the company again, he would be detained directly. I thought they would quiet down for a few days, but unexpectedly, they doubled down. Since hard tactics didn’t work, they resorted to underhanded ones. Sarah started a crowdfunding campaign online. The title was: [Heartless Female CEO: Severely Ill Elderly Father Urgently Needs Life-Saving Funds.] The text was tear-jerking, packaging herself as a filial daughter-in-law who, despite being poor, did her utmost to care for the elderly. It described me as an ungrateful wretch who turned her back on her family once she got rich. It claimed my parents made Liam drop out of school despite his good grades just to support my education, doing everything to lift me up, while I turned ruthless after achieving success. But the truth was, Liam was expelled for fighting, and it was only because my grandmother threatened suicide that I was able to finish my studies. Otherwise, I would have been married off long ago, becoming a tool for them to collect a bride price. Coupled with a video of David groaning in pain on his hospital bed. The netizens, unaware of the truth, were whipped into a frenzy once again. Although I had explained myself at the company entrance last time, a new narrative had taken hold. Who cared about the previous plot twist? My company’s phone lines were jammed, and some people even sent me funeral wreaths and photoshopped obituary photos. What’s worse, some directly contacted my partners, demanding they stop doing business with me, or else they would call on netizens to boycott their products. That evening, the CFO knocked and came in, looking grim. “Ms. Smith, two major suppliers called to say they want to suspend supplies, fearing it will affect their brand image.” “Also, the bank is inquiring about the public opinion situation.” I lit a cigarette and looked at the night view outside the window. After smoking three cigarettes, I took out my phone and made a call. “Lawyer Jones, please prepare the lawsuit materials. We are not suing them for defamation; we are filing to recover the gifted assets.” “The grounds are that the donee failed to fulfill the obligation of supporting the donor.” Although that six million was given to Liam by David. Most of the 4.8 million I gave to David was under the guise of making payments on his behalf, so there was still a chance to recover it. Moreover, I had an even bigger surprise for them. Half a year ago, while cleaning up one of Liam’s messes, I accidentally overheard a conversation between Liam and Sarah. I kept my wits about me and recorded it, but for the sake of family harmony, I suppressed the matter. I just didn’t expect it would come in handy now. Now, it was time for everyone to have a good listen.

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