Author: Momo Chan

A proper ex is one who acts like they’re dead. After my divorce from Preston, we both adhered to that truth religiously. Until the anniversary of my father’s death. The front desk buzzed up to say a package had arrived for me. Inside was a bouquet of white roses. The card read, “Please give Mr. Ford my regards.” It was signed with a simple “P.” Many people sent flowers to commemorate my father on this day. But only one person would sign with just a “P.” I refused to even touch them. In front of my entire staff, I dropped the bouquet directly into the office trash can. There was a time when he was the most important person in my life, and in my father’s. But after my father passed away, his hollow sympathy was the last thing I needed. 1 My executive assistant, Sarah, must have seen the pause in my signature. “Was that from… Preston?” she asked, her voice low and tentative. I didn’t answer, my focus returning to the quarterly financial report on my desk. Sarah sighed. “I heard he’s coming back from the New York headquarters. His new project is doing a roadshow here. You’ll have to see him eventually. Are you just going to keep this up?” “And if the media asks about his connection to you…” “Issue a statement from my father’s estate,” I cut her off. “Make it clear that his business empire has no record of such a student.” “As for me and him,” I added, my voice flat, “we’re done. Completely.” Sarah didn’t seem surprised. She simply nodded. But as she gathered her things and reached the door, she paused. I looked up at her, a question in my eyes. The young graduate I’d hired years ago now had a quiet strength in her gaze. “Audrey,” she asked seriously, “are you going to leave him any opening at all? Even just for the press?” “No.” The word was sharp, absolute. My tone was devoid of emotion. I was merely stating a fact. A proper ex is a dead ex. A smile bloomed on Sarah’s face, her dimples showing. “Good,” she said. Her response made me pause for a second before I rose to head to the department merger meeting. In the elevator, I ran into Nathan, a lawyer who had been a senior of Preston’s in college. He’d been a witness to our relationship back then and was now a partner at the city’s top law firm. After a brief exchange of pleasantries, his tone grew somber. “I got word this morning. Preston’s coming home.” I gave a noncommittal, “Hm.” Nathan frowned, his expression complicated. “Your father valued loyalty above all else, Audrey. If he were still here, he would hate to see you two like this.” Like what? Bitter enemies? Complete strangers? I forced a tight smile. If he hadn’t sent those damn flowers this morning, I wouldn’t have even thought of him. I can move on from the past, but I don’t have the right to forgive on my father’s behalf. Someone has to remember the wrongs Preston committed. Someone has to get justice for my father. Back at my waterfront apartment, I washed my face and took out the offerings I’d prepared. One by one, I gently arranged them in front of the memorial portrait in the living room. In the black-and-white photo, my father stood in a sharp suit, his eyes filled with a warm, gentle smile. It was taken on the happiest day of his life. My wedding day. The moment I said “I do,” Preston had pulled me into a fierce embrace. In the front row, my father was smiling so wide that fine lines crinkled at the corners of his eyes. The wedding photographer captured it, freezing the moment in time. Seven years had passed since that day. And those seven years were the darkest, most agonizing of my life. 2 The next day at the corporate headquarters, everyone was looking at me strangely. My closest confidants seemed to be biting their tongues. I had a sinking feeling I knew why, but I didn’t ask. I proceeded with the acquisitions report as scheduled. During the mid-meeting break, a familiar yet foreign figure walked in. Preston. He wore a dark, impeccably tailored suit, a limited-edition Patek Philippe on his wrist, and held an investment proposal in his hand. Two years had transformed him. The warmth he once projected was gone, replaced by the sharp, confident edge of a top-tier executive. If Dad were still alive, he would have been so proud to see him now. A crowd of curious colleagues gathered as he handed me the proposal. Preston and I said nothing, a silent, mutual understanding hanging in the dead, awkward air between us. After signing the last page, I closed the folder and turned to leave. “You’ve grown a lot these past two years,” Preston’s voice came from behind me. I didn’t turn around. I didn’t respond. I simply pushed open the conference room door and walked out. But by the time I reached the end of the hallway, I couldn’t stop the stinging in my eyes. If Dad were still alive, I wouldn’t have had to shoulder the weight of his unfinished business empire in just two short years, poring over financial statements late into the night, pushing projects to completion. I wouldn’t have had to force myself to grow up so fast, to take on the core operations he once managed, just to protect his legacy. This so-called growth was paid for with my father’s life. Two interns walked by, their hushed whispers drifting to my ears. “Is that him? Preston? The one who betrayed his mentor to get ahead and indirectly caused Audrey’s father’s death?” “Why else do you think everyone’s here? They’re all waiting for the drama to explode between him and Audrey.” “God, I heard from the older staff that they used to be the city’s perfect couple. How did it end up like this?” “You can never know what’s in a person’s heart. Who knows what kind of twisted game he was playing.” Their voices faded as the phone in my pocket buzzed urgently. “Audrey, the emergency board meeting has been moved up! We need you at the conference center now!” “On my way,” I said. As I rounded the corner, I ran straight into Preston. He held up his own phone. “Still not planning on taking me off your block list?” I acted as if he were invisible, not breaking my stride. Ignored again, a flicker of annoyance crossed his face. He stepped in front of me, his hand shooting out to grab my wrist. “Audrey, was it really such a big deal that you have to hold a grudge for years? Mr. Ford was always a forgiving man. It’s a shame you didn’t learn that from him.” “And whether you like it or not,” he continued, his grip tightening, “you will be at the celebration dinner with me tonight.” Hearing him say my father’s name was a desecration. I violently shook his hand off, my voice as cold as ice. “Preston, you don’t have the right to say his name.” Without another glance, I walked toward the conference center. Walter, one of the company directors, met me at the entrance. He was my father’s oldest and dearest friend, a man who had been with him since they were building their dreams in a college dorm room. Now, even in his old age, Walter’s eyes still held a sharp, fierce light. He stared at me intently. “That ungrateful snake is back?” 3 I nodded, a wave of sorrow washing over me. Walter’s face contorted with rage. “He has the nerve to show his face here?” he seethed. “If it weren’t for your father paying off his fifty-million-dollar debt and taking him under his wing, would he be where he is today? And how did he repay him? By stabbing him in the back when it mattered most!” “Your father was too kind! He should have let him rot back then!” Walter grew more agitated, pointing toward the lobby. “At your wedding, he stood before your father and swore he would protect you for the rest of his life, that he would work hard and honor him. It was all bullshit!” “The man has no soul!” He paused, then shot me a look of frustration. “And you’re just like him, too trusting. If you had seen him for what he really was sooner, none of this would have…” I remained silent. Walter was right. Preston was brilliant, and he was a masterful actor. Years ago, after his own father jumped to his death, creditors had shown up at his door. It was my father who settled all his debts. Afterwards, Preston had bowed to my father three times, formally asking to become his student. My father taught him everything he knew about business. He even orchestrated our marriage. That was why, when I first found out he was cheating, I couldn’t bring myself to tell Dad. Her name was Jessica. She was a financial journalist. Emboldened by Preston’s favor, she became a tyrant in our social circle. But Preston didn’t care. Against everyone’s advice, he kept her by his side, giving her special treatment at every turn. When the rumors reached me, I was worried about his reputation and confronted him directly. He looked me in the eye, his expression earnest. “Audrey, she comes from a difficult background. I see my former self in her.” “I’m just trying to give her a hand up. It’s nothing more than that.” I believed him. I thought he was acting out of pure kindness, so I let it go. He pulled me into his arms, patting my back gently, his voice impossibly soft. But after that, Jessica became his shadow. They traveled for business together, attended functions together, and were seen acting intimately at corporate galas. The rumors grew more vicious. Someone started calling Jessica “Mrs. Preston” behind my back. The moment I heard those words, I snapped. I stormed into his office and demanded to know what he was playing at. The usual tenderness was gone from his face. His voice was laced with impatience, and a hint of a threat. “Let people say what they want. Our consciences are clear.” “Don’t be irrational. You’re affecting my work.” I fought back tears, my voice trembling. “Dad hasn’t been well. If he hears any of this, the shock could be too much for him!” Preston was silent for a moment, then nodded. For a while after that, he and Jessica did maintain a deliberate distance in public. His office became off-limits to outsiders. But “outsiders” now included me. I was completely shut out. Even work-related matters had to be relayed through his own people. When Dad occasionally asked how Preston and I were doing, I swallowed my pain and forced a smile, telling him everything was fine. One Friday afternoon, I went to my father’s office to drop off his medication. The security guard who usually stood post was gone. I didn’t think much of it and pushed the door open. And there they were. Preston and Jessica, wrapped in each other’s arms, whispering intimately. I froze. So this was their “distance.” Their affair hadn’t ended; it had just moved from public view into the shadows. Tears streamed down my face. Preston didn’t even look at me. He shoved Jessica behind him protectively and snapped, “Audrey, who told you you could just walk in here? Have you no manners?” From behind his back, Jessica peeked out, her eyes a toxic mix of vulnerability and malice. “I’m so sorry, Audrey. Preston and I are in love. Please, just let us be happy.” From that day on, I became the laughingstock of our entire circle. Disgust, rage, and humiliation wrapped around me like thorns. I wanted to tell my father everything. I wanted to tell him I was divorcing Preston. But before I could, Sarah rushed in, her face pale with panic, to tell me my father had collapsed. 4 Dad’s condition was critical. He needed surgery immediately. And the only surgeon in the entire medical system with the expertise to perform it was a Dr. Evans, a man who owed Preston a significant favor. Preston pulled every string he had. He not only got Dr. Evans, but also assembled a team of the nation’s top cardiac specialists. He stayed up for two straight nights helping them develop the best possible treatment plan. During that time, he was a constant presence outside the hospital room, checking on Dad’s condition. A few days later, Dad’s condition finally stabilized. Every day, I cooked nutritious meals and brought them to the hospital. On the third day, I arrived to find that the nurse assigned to my father had been replaced by Jessica. She was standing by my father’s bed, chatting and laughing with him. When she saw me enter, a provocative smirk crossed her lips. “Oh, Audrey, you’re here! I was just telling your father all about the early days of your relationship with Preston. He was so enjoying the stories.” Her words were like needles, piercing my heart. I trembled with rage. She could torment me all she wanted, but parading her victory in my sick father’s hospital room was a line she could not cross. I lunged forward, grabbed her arm, and dragged her out of the room. In the middle of the hallway, in front of doctors, nurses, and visitors, I slapped her across the face. Hard. Jessica stumbled back, stunned, her hand flying to her cheek. The next second, a powerful force yanked me backward. Preston’s eyes were blazing with fury. “Audrey, are you insane?” We had a screaming match in his office later that day. I swept everything off his desk—cups, papers, files—my voice breaking with sobs. “That is my father in that hospital bed! He can’t handle any more stress! Jessica was doing it on purpose! If anything happens to him, I will end you both!” Crack. The sharp sound of a slap echoed in the office. A searing pain spread across my cheek. The blow cut off my words. And it shattered the very last shred of affection I had for him. “Audrey, if you pull a stunt like that again, I will have Dr. Evans on the next flight out of here.” After that, there was no turning back. We were done pretending. Preston moved into a hotel suite and never came home again. And Jessica remained my father’s primary caregiver. Not only that, she escalated her campaign of cruelty, leaving suggestive photos and notes in my office. My father quickly sensed the tension between us. One day, as I was helping him drink some water, he stared at me for a long time and said softly, “My girl, don’t try to be so strong. If you’re unhappy, you can tell me.” I tucked his blanket in, fighting back tears. “I’m fine, Dad. Don’t worry about me. The most important thing for you right now is to rest and get better.” I had only one thought: as soon as Dad had his surgery and recovered, I would tell him everything and end things with Preston for good. But two days after I made that silent promise, my father’s condition took a sudden, drastic turn for the worse. The heart monitor began to blare. The doctors urged me to contact Preston immediately; they had to operate now. I called Preston’s number over and over, but it went straight to voicemail. I asked my contacts to reach Dr. Evans, but he was also unreachable. With no other choice, I dialed Jessica’s number. “My father’s condition has worsened! Get Preston to bring Dr. Evans here now!” There was a moment of silence on the other end, then Preston’s voice, rough with annoyance, came through. “Audrey, can you stop being so dramatic? Your father’s condition isn’t that urgent. I’m busy taking Jessica to an investment summit overseas. I don’t have time for your family drama!” He hung up. I called back. This time, Jessica answered, her voice dripping with triumphant malice. “Don’t call again, Audrey. Preston is taking me on an international business trip.” She paused, then lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “By the way, about your father’s sudden decline… I wonder if it has anything to do with him overhearing Preston and me… outside his room last night?” My mind went blank. The world went silent. I don’t remember what happened next. I only remember the light above the operating room door going out, and the surgeon walking toward me, his face grim as he slowly shook his head. The board meeting was about to start. I pulled my thoughts back from the past. Just as Walter and I were about to enter the conference center, my phone rang. The caller ID showed it was my home landline. I answered. On the other end, for the first time I could remember, Preston’s voice was filled with genuine terror. “Audrey, why is there a memorial portrait of your father in the apartment?”

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My husband is a total tech novice. Or so I thought. Me? I’m a legend on the AI hackathon circuit. In our three years of marriage, he has been the perfect partner. He remembers my cycle, rubs my sore ankles after a long day, and makes sure I have three healthy meals when I’m too buried in Python scripts to remember to eat. But every time I finish a brilliant piece of code and try to show him? He always looks at me with a pained smile: “Honey, it’s all Greek to me. Don’t waste your breath explaining it.” I’d always back off, feeling a bit of a lonely genius. Last week, I was tearing my hair out over a parameter bug for an upcoming AI hackathon. My husband, Caleb Sterling, quietly took off his gold-rimmed glasses and clipped them to his shirt collar. Caleb, the man who supposedly couldn’t tell Java from JavaScript, suddenly reached out and took my laptop. He rolled up his sleeves, revealing the lean, firm lines of his forearms. The cold glow of the screen reflected off his focused profile. The keyboard began to click—a crisp, rhythmic mechanical sound. In less than a minute, the parameter issue that had haunted me for a month was solved with a few elegant lines of code. “Did you… just learn that?” I asked, breathless, thinking he had secretly studied for my sake. He just smiled and didn’t say a word. He looked devastatingly handsome when he was focused. I couldn’t resist sneaking a photo of his profile and posting it to my social media. My account, which usually gets maybe twenty likes, exploded overnight. “It’s 2026 and I’m still seeing those hands on a keyboard? This is the peak Hot Nerd aesthetic. My sapiosexuality is screaming!” “‘Just learned it?’ LOL, OP, do you even know your own husband?” “The ghost of the legendary ‘Sterling-Vance’ duo has returned! I’ve watched the old videos of Goddess Vance teaching Caleb to code a thousand times. They were the ultimate Power Couple.” “Wait… is OP actually Caleb’s wife? Then my ‘Sterling-Vance’ ship really is a relic of the past… 😭” 01 The comments kept refreshing like a runaway script. “Caleb once stayed up five nights straight for Lydia Vance’s AI competition. He collapsed in the lab right after the finals. Their chemistry was insane!” “You think that’s tragic? Think about how Caleb never touched another AI project after Lydia left the country…” A stranger was being pieced together through 3,700 comments. This wasn’t the Caleb I knew. My Caleb was steady, predictable, and careful. He was the man I had to propose to because he was too composed to do it himself. The man in the comments was a reckless, impulsive boy who once ran through a thunderstorm to Lydia’s house just to explain a rumor. On New Year’s Eve, the night before Lydia moved abroad, Caleb resigned from the AI lab. He spent the night alone in the server room and eventually ran a model that produced a hauntingly beautiful AI melody titled “The Moon is Beautiful Tonight”—a classic Japanese idiom for “I love you.” Lydia was his muse. Every parameter he tuned was for her. I scrolled through the stories, the white light of the screen stinging my eyes until tears blurred the text. The melody Caleb had just run on my laptop… was that same melody. New Year’s Eve was approaching. Was he thinking of her again? “Why are you crying, babe?” Caleb chuckled softly, his thumb brushing my eyelid. I leaned away, forcing a smile. “Did you ever do AI competitions before? Your understanding of models is… deep.” “Our team’s algorithm engineer is out sick. Why don’t you come sub for me, Caleb?” Everyone has a past. I knew that. But his kindness to me over these years was real. Plus, I had just found out I was pregnant. We were about to become the family of three we always wanted. If he said yes, it would mean he had moved on. I could pretend I never saw the comments. But Caleb froze. After a long silence, he muttered, “I’ve never formally competed.” The lie felt like a slap. His winning records with Lydia were still indexed on Google. Caleb, a man who measured every word, was telling a blatant, clumsy lie. “Is that so?” I whispered. “Then what are all these comments about?” 02 The veil was torn. I demanded to know why. Caleb remained silent for a long time. “There is no ‘why.’ I loved her. Sometimes I still think of her. It’s that simple.” He watched me fall apart with a calm that felt like ice. “沈溪 (Xandra), we’re married now. You don’t need to obsess over my past.” “Obsess?” I laughed bitterly. “What if she came back right now? What if she asked you to join her lab? Would you go?” He didn’t answer. He tried to pull me into a hug, but I slapped his hand away. I wanted a real answer. Caleb sighed. “Go to sleep. Stop overthinking.” He was so calm it made me feel like a hysterical child. The comments said Lydia had just returned to the States to start her own AI firm. They were all rooting for a reunion, completely ignoring the fact that I was his legal wife. “I wouldn’t go. Happy?” Caleb said, his jaw tight. Right then, his phone buzzed. The caller ID was just one letter: “L.” Caleb grabbed the phone to leave the room. I lunged forward and grabbed his shirt. My tears soaked the fabric. “Answer it here!” We stood in a stalemate. As the ringing began to fade, Caleb finally picked up, perhaps afraid of missing her. “Lydia,” he rasped. The way he said her name was full of a tenderness I had never heard. “It’s me,” a soft, melodic voice replied. I felt Caleb go rigid. He forgot I was even there. Lydia sounded weary. “I’m sorry to call so late. But I didn’t know who else to turn to. My lead engineer is throwing a fit and won’t finish the demo for the launch. The investors are coming in tomorrow, and I can’t push the date.” “I know it’s a lot to ask… but can you come save me? Please, Caleb. I need my best coder.” 03 “But what about your finals for the International AI Hackathon?” Caleb’s question made us both freeze. He was thinking of her career before he even thought of his own life. I couldn’t help but raise my voice. “You’re going to help her? Tomorrow is New Year’s Eve! We have a family dinner planned with both our parents!” I had planned to announce the pregnancy then. My mother-in-law had been hinting at grandkids for years. Caleb had always said he wanted a child. When we were intimate, he’d whisper in my ear, “Let’s have a little girl just as sweet as you, okay?” Lydia’s voice wavered on the phone. “Caleb… is that your friend?” “We are married,” I cut in. Silence followed. Caleb frowned, his resolve hardening. “It’s just technical support.” Just technical support. When I asked, he had “never competed.” When she called, he was ready to catch the first flight out. “Never mind,” Lydia said softly. “Wait,” Caleb said urgently. He covered the receiver and pried my hand off his shirt. His voice was cold. “Stop making a scene, Xandra.” “She’s alone in a tough spot. Is it so wrong to help a friend?” I stared at him, my voice trembling. “I’m in a tough spot too, Caleb.” This was my year to be promoted to Team Lead. But because of my pregnancy fatigue and morning sickness, the partners were worried about the project timeline. They were talking about moving me to a support role. The Open House demo next month was my only chance to prove I still had it, but my algorithm partner was a jerk who refused to work with me because he said my code gave him “anxiety.” I wasn’t a natural genius. I had worked until my wrists ached to get where I am. I poured my heart out, crying as I spoke. Caleb started packing his bag. When he saw me crying, he paused. I thought he would hold me, or at least comfort me. Instead, he said, “Drink some water when you’re done crying. I’m leaving.” I dug my nails into my palms. “Are you really going? You won’t regret this?” Caleb looked at me, lowered his eyes, and said, “Get some sleep.” The front door clicked shut. The house felt cavernous. I touched my stomach, my tears flowing unchecked. I picked up my phone and dialed a clinic. “Hi, I’d like to schedule an appointment for a termination.” 04 The girl on the other end of the line was startled by my voice. “Are you okay, ma’am? Please breathe. Don’t do anything impulsive.” I broke down. A complete stranger on a helpline cared more about my emotional state than the man who shared my bed. I spent the night masochistically watching old interviews of the two of them. In the videos, Caleb would blush if Lydia looked at him during a demo. He’d look devastated if a model didn’t run perfectly for her. He’d tell the world she was the most important person in his life. With me, he was always “stable.” I thought it was just his personality. It wasn’t. He had just given all his passion, all his fire, to someone else. At 8:00 AM, I drove to the hospital. The OB-GYN waiting room was full of couples. I saw a husband rubbing his wife’s back while she leaned on him, complaining of nausea. He kissed her forehead and said, “You’re doing great, babe.” I watched them with a hollow envy. My morning sickness had been brutal, and Caleb had never even noticed. He didn’t even know I was pregnant. “Xandra? The doctor is ready for you.” The doctor looked at my chart and sighed. “You have a difficult constitution for pregnancy. If you terminate this, it might be very hard to conceive again. Are you sure you don’t want to talk to your husband?” My phone lit up. A text from my mom: “Hey sweetie, what do you and Caleb want for dinner tonight? We’re so excited for the ‘surprise’ you mentioned!” I stared at the screen, my hand shaking. I was about to say I needed to think, when Caleb called.

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For the sake of my hometown’s development, I brought my media team back to the countryside to help the farmers. After a year of hard work, Greenridge Village became a model example for the whole state. At the year-end dividend distribution, the village chief announced with fanfare: “This year’s dividend is $15,000 per person!” “But, Caleb, you only get $1.50.” I was confused, thinking it was a joke. The village chief’s son, Mason, pulled out a crumpled dollar bill and two quarters, throwing them in my face. “You just moved your lips and filmed some videos. That’s all you’re worth.” Amidst the roaring laughter of the crowd, my parents also blamed me. “Caleb, everyone was working in the fields, you were indeed lazy.” I sneered, clutching the $1.50 tight. In that case, the million-dollar order for next spring, I’ll be canceling it ahead of schedule. 1 Hearing that I was going to cancel the orders, the villagers began to murmur in panic. “You can’t do that! My peaches are almost ripe. What if the order is canceled?” “Yeah, Caleb, don’t mess around!” The village chief’s son, Mason, raised his voice, signaling everyone to calm down. “Don’t be afraid. All he did this year was film videos and talk.” “We can learn that too. Anyone can livestream.” The villagers looked at each other, hesitation on their faces. I scoffed. “I contacted the channels, I built the brand, and I maintained the clients. You think learning a few tricks will let you replace me?” “So what?” Mason shouted. “We did all the work! We planted the fruit! We packed the boxes!” “While we were out in the sun and wind, you were inside with the fan on. Why should you get the same share as us?” He turned to face the villagers. “Folks, am I right?” After a brief silence, Uncle Bob spoke up first. “That makes sense. Caleb, you did put in effort, but the money… you shouldn’t get that much.” “Exactly.” Neighbor Mrs. Lee whispered. “Anyway, you made money in the city. Coming back to contribute to your hometown is what you should do.” The village chief also nodded. “Educated people have active minds. Helping out is expected, don’t be so calculating.” They chimed in one after another. Everyone advised me to be generous; no one spoke up for me. I looked at my parents. They sat at another table, heads lowered, faces flushed red. My mother secretly wiped away tears. My father glared at me fiercely, his eyes saying: “You’re embarrassing us.” Mason was very satisfied with everyone’s reaction and said boldly. “Don’t worry, everyone. I will lead you all to open livestream accounts.” “In the future, we won’t be controlled by anyone. Everyone can make big money!” He raised his arm and shouted, drawing applause from the crowd. I curled my lip and gave him a thumbs up. I struggled in the city for nearly ten years to become a top influencer in this field. If it weren’t for my hometown, for helping the farmers, I wouldn’t have come back. I didn’t care about the $15,000. I cared about whether my efforts were recognized, whether the people I helped had a conscience. Since it’s like this, there’s no need for me to waste my breath on them. I put the $1.50 in my pocket, turned, and walked away. The villagers whispered behind me. “He’s got quite a temper, taking it so seriously!” “Tsk, let him go if he wants. Could we not live without him before?” “Exactly. Since he came back a year ago, we’ve been walking on eggshells. I’ve been annoyed with him for a long time.” My heart grew colder and colder. Greenridge Village was originally a poverty-stricken village in the state. It was only through this year that we shed the poverty label, and the village chief even received a commendation from the state. When the city reporters came for interviews, the village chief held my hand, thanking me profusely. Now, only a few months later, they’ve turned their backs. In that case, I’ll wait quietly for them to “stand on their own feet.” 2 I treated my team to dinner. When they heard the dividend was only $1.50, they all felt it was unfair for me. “Boss, let’s go back. It’s better than being humiliated here.” “We’ve seen how much you’ve given this year. Since they don’t know what’s good for them, we don’t need to help.” I took a sip of wine and slowly shook my head. “My original intention was to help the farmers. I can’t change that just because of these people’s faces.” “Since Greenridge Village doesn’t need me, we can go elsewhere.” Everyone nodded. “Boss, we’re with you.” Looking at these passionate young people, hope reignited in me. When I got home, my parents were already back. My father’s face was iron-blue as he slammed the table. “You still have the face to come back! The whole village was watching! You’ve lost all my face!” My mother also cried aggrievedly. “Told you to find a proper job, but you insisted on this media stuff… Now look, you’re a joke!” I was unconvinced and couldn’t help but retort. “Where did I go wrong?” “You dare talk back?” My father stood up. “Why did they only give you $1.50? Don’t you know in your heart? Holding a phone all day, filming here and there, do you call that work?” My mother nodded while sobbing. “Look at Mason. He came back from working in the city last year and took the folks to the fields. That’s a real man…” I listened quietly, waiting until they were tired before speaking. “Those channels, I negotiated them one by one. You really think good wine needs no bush?” “Without me, the fruit would still be rotting in the fields.” My father sneered. “Come on! The harvest was good this year. Even without you, we could have sold it!” My mother echoed. “That’s right. Without good fruit, the best channels are useless.” My heart truly went cold. It’s one thing for others to misunderstand me. But even my own parents thought of me this way. I gave a bitter smile. “Fine, I quit. You guys do it yourselves from now on.” I turned and went upstairs. Behind me came the sound of my father smashing a teacup. “Ungrateful son! Can’t even say a word to him? Holding phones all day has rotted his brain. One day I’ll smash them all!” My mother comforted him. “Forget it, forget it. When he comes around, let Mason arrange a job for him. A proper job is the way out.” Anger surged in me, but I forcibly suppressed it. For the first time, I questioned whether I should have come back. I can calculate the market, but I can’t calculate the human heart. 3 The next day, as I was preparing to go out, people came into the yard. Mason led the way, followed by seven or eight young men from the village. They held sticks in their hands, their expressions unkind. My parents stood under the eaves, cowering to the side. Mason spat out a mouthful of smoke. “Hand over all the livestream account passwords, client contact info, and channel information.” I frowned. “Aren’t you going to livestream yourselves? Open your own accounts.” “Bullshit!” Mason narrowed his eyes. “Your account says ‘Greenridge Fresh Fruit,’ so it belongs to Greenridge! Also, disband that team group of yours.” My team had six people, all of whom had been with me for a long time. We filmed together during the day and discussed operations at night. We were like family. I objected unhappily. “That’s my group, it has nothing to do with you.” “Are you kidding?” Mason suddenly raised his voice. “From now on, the team is under my control!” In the yard, my six team members were pushed into a row. The youngest was only eighteen, and they all had slap marks on their faces. I clenched my fists in anger. “How can you hit people! This is illegal!” Mason laughed. “Go sue me then. Who will testify for you?” He grabbed my collar. “Hand over the info, or I won’t be polite!” The villagers on the side shouted. “Hand it over! Hand it over!” Looking at them, I felt utterly chilled. Burning the bridge after crossing it, indeed. My mother persuaded me with teary eyes. “Caleb, just hand it over. Don’t go against everyone.” My father’s face was livid. “His info is on the computer. Just grab it!” I looked up at him in shock. Not only did he not help me, but he also joined outsiders to rob me. Mason shoved me away and waved his hand. “Grab his computer and smash his filming equipment!” They swarmed into my room. Cameras were smashed against the wall, lenses shattering. Computers were unplugged, hard drives ripped out. I rushed over to stop them. Mason swung a stick, hitting me squarely on the back. I fell to my knees in pain. “Keep smashing!” Mason stood at the door, holding my hard drive, sneering. I looked up and saw my parents standing outside the door. My father’s lips moved, but he said nothing in the end. My mother was crying but didn’t come in. Everything was smashed, the floor a mess. Finally, Mason walked over. “Account passwords, say them now!” I slowly stood up, the pain in my back making it hard to straighten up. “Let them go first.” I looked at my team members. Mason thought for a moment. “Fine.” The six young people were released. They looked at me, eyes red. “Go on, go home.” I had disappointed them after all. For their safety, I couldn’t take them with me anymore. I hope this won’t affect their original intention of “poverty alleviation and aiding farmers.” The team members couldn’t bear it, but they left. Now, only Mason’s men and my parents remained in the yard. I recited all the accounts and passwords in one breath. Mason had someone log in and verify them on the spot, then nodded with satisfaction. “You’re smart.” He patted my face. “One more thing. You have to apologize to the whole village.” I frowned. “What am I apologizing for?” “You engaged in all this flashy nonsense and corrupted the atmosphere!” Mason’s voice was loud. “Now none of the young people in the village want to farm properly. They all want to film videos and become influencers! Isn’t this your fault?” The villagers watching outside the yard began to agree. “Exactly! My kid is on his phone all day now!” “Not practical! Corrupting the children!” Listening to these accusations, I suddenly laughed. “A year ago, when you begged for my help, you didn’t say that.” “Still dare to talk back?” Mason slapped me hard. It was heavy. I tasted blood in my mouth. “Kneel! Apologize to the folks! Say you’re sorry to Greenridge! Sorry to the clan!” I stood still. “Did you hear me!” Mason was about to strike again. At this moment, my father suddenly rushed in. “Ungrateful son! Kneel!” He pressed down on my shoulders. I looked at him in shock. “Dad?” “Kneel!” My father’s eyes were red. “Apologize to Mason! Apologize to the whole village! Our family can’t afford this shame!” My mother also came in, crying and pulling me. “Caleb, just give in…” In the yard, villagers formed a circle. Some were silent, some sneered, some pointed. “See, studying made him stupid.” “Deserves it. Should have been dealt with long ago.” My knees were forced down by my father, the wound on my back hurting even more. I looked at my father’s calloused hands, hands that once carried me on his shoulders. Now, he was forcing me to kneel to those who humiliated me. I said word by word. “I. Won’t. Kneel.” My father raised his hand and slapped me. Harder than Mason. “Kneel!” I looked at him, suddenly finding him very strange. In the end, I knelt. Not out of submission. But because my heart died. Mason smiled triumphantly. “Should have done this sooner. Remember, in Greenridge, you have no say. Get out.” 4 They left. The villagers dispersed. Only the mess in the yard remained, and my figure kneeling among the debris. My parents stood under the eaves, silent for a long time. Finally, my father spoke. “Tomorrow, go to Mason’s house and apologize formally. If the village chief sees your attitude is good, maybe he’ll let you stay in the village and make a living.” I didn’t speak. “Did you hear me!” My father roared. “When will you stop making me worry!” I packed up the items I retrieved and spoke slowly. “I won’t go.” My father raised his eyebrows, anger rising again. “You dare!” I looked straight at him, heart dead as ash. “From today on, I am not a member of the Caleb family, nor your son.” My mother burst into tears. “Caleb, you’re the only son in the family, you can’t do this…” She pulled me. “Everyone is doing this for your own good. Why can’t you understand?” I pulled my hand away, looking at them coldly. “No parents would force their own son to kneel to others!” “If you are willing to kneel and beg, that’s your business!” “I, Caleb, must live with dignity!” Saying the last sentence, I got worked up too. My eyes widened, ears turning red. My father shook with anger and raised his hand. This time, I didn’t let him. I pushed him away, and he stumbled back two steps. My father’s eyes widened in surprise. “Ungrateful son, you dare raise a hand against your father!” I ignored him, turned around, took out my suitcase, and packed my few belongings. Luckily, the portable hard drive deep in the drawer was still there. Inside were the core data I had saved since I started livestreaming. When I went downstairs, my father and mother were still at the door. Seeing me leave, he stamped his foot in anger. “Go then! Get out of this house! Never come back!” I looked back at them once. “Don’t worry. Even if you beg me, I won’t come back to this house!” I prepared to drive away, but my back hurt terribly. I went to the village clinic first for some medicine. The village doctor, Dr. Zhang, was an outsider. He opened the door and examined me. Just as I was about to get the medicine, his wife came out from the inner room. “What is he doing here?” The woman screeched. “Mason said anyone who helps him is going against the whole village!” I frowned. “I’ll pay.” The woman pointed at the door. “We won’t sell even if you pay. Leave quickly!” I was pushed out the door, hearing the woman’s voice inside. “Don’t meddle! The whole village stands with Mason now…” I smiled bitterly. So this is the retribution for a good person. No wonder. No wonder Greenridge Village hasn’t escaped poverty for so many years. Anyone who wants to contribute to their hometown would be disheartened by this. Enduring the pain, I drove to the county town. After seeing a doctor, I took out my phone and dialed a number. “Secretary Chen? This is Caleb.” “Yes, the one doing self-media in Greenridge.” “You said last time you wanted to invite me to your village to have a look?” “I’m in the county town now. I have time tomorrow.” Chen Village. Poorer, harder mountain roads. Better fruit, but no good channels. They asked me three times, but I never agreed. Because I was a Greenridge man. But now, not anymore. I opened my phone album and looked at the photos taken this year. The first livestream, only my old fans watched, sold 7 orders. The first shipment, chaotic, even the shipping labels were wrong. First time on provincial TV, villagers surrounded the camera, smiling brightly. Flipping to the end, photos of the dividend meeting. The village chief and Mason stood on stage, high-spirited. In the corner, I was blurred into a shadow. How ridiculous.

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After getting laid off, I excitedly texted my mom that I was coming home for a while. But on the flight back to my hometown, I scrolled past a trending thread on Reddit: “AITA for locking out a distant relative who got fired and wants to mooch off my family?” The top comments were brutal: “1. Demand her severance pay as rent. 2. Change the locks to show her who’s boss. 3. Mock her until she leaves on her own.” I smirked, thankful that my parents would never treat me like that. Besides, I bought the house they lived in. No one could kick me out. But a second later, a text from my mom popped up: “Transfer your severance package to me for safekeeping.” I froze. Acting on a strange instinct, I replied: “I didn’t get any severance.” I suddenly remembered what I had forgotten to tell them. My company actually gave me a $50,000 severance package. And on top of that, I bought a lottery ticket on a whim. I won 5 million dollars. My mom went silent for a long time. I started to panic, wanting to share the good news to break the tension. I sent: “Mom, actually…” The response was a red exclamation mark. Message Not Delivered.

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My mother had a parenting philosophy: “Kill the chicken to scare the monkey.” I was the chicken. My brother, Leo, was the monkey. From the time I was four, my mother used this tactic. If Leo broke a bowl, I knelt on the floor to pick up the pieces. If Leo broke someone else’s toy, I wrote the apology letter. My mother said, “You’re the big sister. You didn’t watch him properly, so it’s your fault.” When I was eight, Leo stole money from the convenience store down the street. When the fat owner came knocking on our door, Leo didn’t hesitate to point at me: “It was Penny! She took it!” My mother’s face changed. Then, she shoved me toward the owner. “Mr. Davis, I didn’t teach my child well. It’s my fault.” “I’ll give my daughter to you as compensation. Hit her, scold her, do whatever you want.” Little did she know, once the owner took me away, I never came back. 1 My mother pulled the fat owner, Mr. Davis, aside. I didn’t hear what she whispered, but I saw her press a wad of cash into his hand. Mr. Davis looked hesitant, then finally nodded. “Mom?” I called out softly. She didn’t look at me. Mr. Davis’s greasy hands grabbed me by the collar, lifting me up like a baby chick. He yelled at my brother, who was frozen in fear, “See this? This is the price of stealing and lying!” I was confused. Didn’t Mom pay him back? “Mom!” I screamed. Leo rushed over, grabbing my hand tightly, wailing: “I won’t steal anymore! I swear! Put my sister down!” Mr. Davis sneered and started carrying me out the door. “Too late! Why didn’t you think about your sister when you were stealing?” Leo threw himself at Mom’s feet, hugging her legs. “Mom, I was wrong! I really was! Don’t let him take Penny! Please!” He cried his heart out, banging his forehead on the floor. My mother looked down at him, and a satisfied smile actually appeared on her face. “Remember this, Leo. Because of your mistake, you don’t have a sister anymore.” Then she turned to Mr. Davis. “Take her far away. Don’t let her brother see.” “Mom!” I panicked completely. In that moment, I finally understood. She wasn’t joking. She really didn’t want me anymore. I was shoved into a beat-up van. A rag was stuffed in my mouth, my hands and feet bound. The car drove for a long time, until the sun dipped low and the sky turned dark gray. Finally, we stopped at a remote village I’d never seen before. When the warehouse door opened, a smell of mold hit me. “There’s water if you’re thirsty, bread if you’re hungry.” Mr. Davis pointed to some boxes in the corner. “Stay put. Your mom will come get you in two days.” Bang. The iron door slammed shut. I heard him on the phone outside: “Don’t worry… far away… won’t find her… money is separate…” The warehouse was pitch black. Only a high ventilation window let in a sliver of blurry moonlight. I waited for a long time. Mom didn’t come. Dad didn’t come either. Did they really abandon me? The thought pierced my heart like a needle. No, they wouldn’t. Mom said this was just an act, just to scare Leo. I told myself this over and over, like a mantra. But it got darker and darker. Strange noises started in the warehouse. Rustling sounds. Like rats, or something else. I was terrified. I wanted to go home. The urge became overwhelming. I started stacking boxes, one by one. I climbed up shakily, standing on tiptoes to reach the window. My fingertips finally touched the cold frame. I pushed with all my might— Crash! The boxes beneath me suddenly gave way. The world spun. The back of my head slammed onto the concrete floor. A dull thud. Strangely, it didn’t hurt. 2 I scrambled up, realizing something was different. Even without a light, I could clearly see the boxes scattered on the floor, even the dust floating in the air. I tried to restack the boxes. My hand reached for a box, but passed right through it. I froze. I tried again. My fingers went through the cardboard without any resistance, like passing through mist. Did I… did I get superpowers from the fall? Just like in the TV shows? My heart pounded. If I really had superpowers, could I fly home? Would Mom praise me? I tried sticking my foot through the wall. It went through. Surprised and delighted, I ran around the warehouse, passing through box after box. It was just like TV! But why… couldn’t I touch anything? The question burrowed into my mind like a worm. Forget it. Go home first. Home. I want to go home. The moment the thought surfaced, my vision blurred. Wind roared in my ears. Village roads, trees, streetlights… everything flew backward. The next second, I was standing at my front door. I phased through the door, shouting: “Mom, I’m back! I think I have magic powers!” Mom had her back to me, busy in the kitchen. The counter was piled with food. The smell of braised pork filled the house. Today was Leo’s birthday. “Mom?” I called again. She didn’t turn around. It was as if she didn’t hear me. My heart tightened. Before, when I made a mistake, she would ignore me like this until I admitted my fault. She must still be angry. Fine, I’ll find Leo first. He’ll be so scared when he sees I can walk through walls. Just then, the front door opened. Dad walked in, looking dusty but smiling, carrying a toy train. “Tired?” Mom wiped her hands and went to greet him. “Took a few days off. Just in time for Leo’s birthday.” Dad’s voice was gentle. “Daddy!” I ran to him. But he walked right past me to Mom. Leo ran out of his room crying and threw himself into Dad’s arms. “Daddy! Go get Penny back! The owner took her! Mom said she doesn’t want her anymore!” Dad froze, looking at Mom. “What happened?” Mom walked over quickly and whispered in Dad’s ear: “Leo won’t stop stealing money no matter what we say.” “I made a deal with the store owner. It’s just an act to scare him. I told him we gave Penny to him as payment.” Dad frowned immediately. “Nonsense! This… what if you scare him too much? Where’s Penny?” “In the owner’s warehouse. She’s safe. I told him to make sure she’s fed.” Mom’s tone was relaxed. “You didn’t see Leo before! If he doesn’t feel pain once, he’ll never learn!” I heard it. It was an act! It was all an act! Mom didn’t abandon me! A rush of warmth hit me. I was so happy I wanted to jump, and I actually floated up a bit. Leo was still crying. “Daddy, go get Penny back, please… I’ll never steal again!” I floated in front of Leo, trying to pinch his cheek. “Don’t cry, dummy. We were tricked.” My fingers passed through his cheek. Dad spoke sternly, “Leo, you made a big mistake this time. Your sister has to bear the consequences for you.” The light in Leo’s eyes went out. “Mom!” I floated to Mom. She was putting the braised pork onto a plate. I wanted to hug her from behind, but my arms went through her body. “Mom, thank you for not abandoning me.” She couldn’t hear. She turned with the plate, walking right through me to the dining table. Dad rubbed Leo’s hair. “Leo’s cried enough… I think it’s time. I’ll go get Penny tomorrow morning.” “Wait two more days.” Mom’s voice turned cold. “He needs to understand thoroughly that some mistakes mean losing things forever.” “But Penny…” “Penny is fine. She has food and water. She’s safe.” Mom interrupted him. “We have to be tough this time.” Two more days? But I’m right here. I floated between them, waving my arms frantically. “Dad! Mom! I’m right here! Can’t you see me?” “I’m back! I really came back!” Mom suddenly shivered, rubbing her arms. “Why is it suddenly cold?” She walked to the window to close it, completely failing to notice I was standing right in front of her. My hand passed through her shoulder. Why can’t I touch? Why can’t they see? Why… can’t they hear? A cold voice sounded in my heart: Because I’m already dead. 3 “Because I’m already dead.” The realization washed over my soul like ice water, freezing me in place. I floated blankly in the kitchen, watching Mom set the table. Leo pushed his rice bowl onto the floor, screaming, “I won’t eat without Penny!” Mom raised her hand but didn’t strike. She just said coldly, “Don’t eat then. Starve.” She bent down, picked up the spilled rice, and threw it in the trash. Her movement was decisive, like throwing away something useless. Just like… throwing me away. The thought pierced me. Memories I didn’t understand before flooded back. Mom once laughed with a neighbor, “Penny is a ‘Sibling-Bringer.’ As soon as she came, her brother followed. It works like magic!” I didn’t understand what “Sibling-Bringer” meant back then. I just knew Mom looked happy as she patted my head. But after Leo was born, she rarely patted my head anymore. Her eyes followed Leo. She hugged him, kissed him, called him “precious.” Dad too. His first words after work were always, “Where’s Leo?” His shoulders became Leo’s exclusive seat. I just followed behind, carefully tugging his shirt, afraid he’d forget me. Once I had a fever and curled up on the sofa. Mom fed Leo first before coming to touch my forehead. “So hot.” She frowned, her tone annoyed. “Always causing trouble.” In the end, it was Dad who got up in the middle of the night to carry me to the hospital. On the way, he sighed, “Penny, you’re the big sister. Be sensible. Don’t tire your mom out.” So, “Sibling-Bringer” meant that once I brought my brother, my mission was over. I wasn’t a “lucky charm” anymore. I was just a sister who needed to be “sensible.” When dinner was almost over, Mom brought out the cake and lit the candles. Leo was forced to make a wish. “I wish for Penny to come back.” Leo started sobbing again. “Stop crying! Your sister is being punished for you! If you don’t change, next time…” She didn’t finish, but her eyes were like winter wind. Dad smoothed things over. “Alright, your wish will come true.” “Really?” “Really. Dad promises.” Hope lit up Leo’s eyes. But I’m already back. I floated above the cake, watching the flickering flame. Your wish came true a long time ago. You just don’t know it. After dinner, Mom washed dishes at the sink. I wanted to wipe her sweat, but my hand passed through her forehead. She used to say my hands were cold. Now I couldn’t even touch her. Dad walked over, brows furrowed tight. “Maybe we should get Penny back? She’s timid.” “No.” Mom looked up instantly, voice hard. “If we get her now, Leo’s lesson is wasted. Just one day? What will he remember?” “I’m worried. Penny’s been afraid of the dark since she was little. Does the warehouse have lights?” “Yes, I told him to leave a light on at night.” There are no lights. I wanted to say. Only a high window. I tried desperately to tell them, but my voice was like wind through a crack. Suddenly, I had an idea. I focused, staring at the kitchen pendant light. I imagined it was my hand, my eye. Flicker. Just flicker once. I chanted in my mind. Zap. The light really flickered. Mom looked up. “Voltage fluctuation?” “Probably.” Dad didn’t pay attention. I focused again. This time, I stared at the family photo on the fridge—taken last year, me in a yellow dress in the middle. Fall. Let them see me. The photo didn’t move. I tried again, using every ounce of will. The corner of the photo lifted slightly, then stuck back. Is that all I can do? Mom wrapped the leftover cake and put it in the fridge. I knew it was saved for me. But I could never eat it again. Late at night, neither parent slept. Mom was in the living room folding clothes—my little dresses and socks. She folded slowly, picking them up and putting them down. She picked up my favorite red dress, fingers lingering on the small flower at the collar. Dad was on the balcony, chain-smoking. “You think,” Dad’s voice came through the glass door, muffled. “Does Penny think we abandoned her? That kid is sensitive…” “She won’t,” Mom said, but her voice lacked confidence. “I told Mr. Davis clearly. Just scare her for two days. Feed her well…” “When she’s back, we’ll explain properly. Treat her doubly well.” They fell silent. Dad put out his cigarette and sighed. “I’m still worried. I’m going to get Penny now.” “Act or not, we can’t let a child spend the night there. She must be terrified.” 4 Dad’s hand just touched the doorknob when Mom shouted: “If you go tonight, I’m taking Leo and leaving.” Dad’s back stiffened. “She’s only eight…” “If you get her now, she suffered for nothing, and Leo was scared for nothing. This family will never have peace.” Mom didn’t budge. “Do you want to raise a thief, or do you want to destroy this family?” “But Penny…” “She’s perfectly safe.” Mom cut him off. “Mr. Davis took the money; he knows what to do.” “If you go now, you’re slapping me in the face and ruining this family.” Dad slowly turned around. Under the light, his face was pale as paper. I saw his fingers trembling. When he used to hold me, those hands were big and steady. He could lift me so high. Now they were shaking terribly. Go, Dad. I floated in front of him. If you pick me up, I’ll tell you I don’t blame you. I just fell. It doesn’t hurt. I focused again. Not on the light, not the photo. On Dad. I wanted him to feel me. I reached out my transparent hands and gently covered his trembling ones. Though I couldn’t touch, I could feel his warmth. Dad suddenly froze. He looked down at his hands, eyes confused. “What is it?” Mom asked. “Nothing…” Dad mumbled. “Just felt like… Penny is here.” “You’re imagining things.” Mom’s tone softened. “Go sleep. We’ll talk tomorrow.” “Just… two days.” He finally said, voice barely audible. “Two days later, I’m getting her immediately.” “You promise?” Mom stared at him. Dad didn’t speak. He just nodded very, very slowly. He walked back to the sofa, sinking into it, burying his face in his hands. The light fell on his head. I saw several white hairs I’d never seen before. I floated to him, wanting to touch his hair, but my hand passed through again. Being dead meant you couldn’t even comfort your dad. Just then, Leo’s door cracked open. An eye peered through the gap, filled with fear. He heard. He heard everything. 5 The next day, Leo was gone. When Mom found out, his little bed was empty, the quilt folded messily. It was the first time he’d folded his own quilt. “Leo?” Mom called, heading to the bathroom. Under the bed, in the closet, on the balcony… nothing. Her voice started to shake. “Did he go to the store to find his sister?” I was faster than them. The thought barely formed before I floated to the convenience store. Leo was there. The neighborhood was quiet in the early morning. Only a few elderly people were exercising. Leo stood at the store entrance, gripping his shirt hem. Mr. Davis was unloading goods. Seeing him, he paused. “Leo? Why are you…” “Uncle Davis.” Leo’s voice was small but firm. “Please, let my sister go.” He pulled a handful of change from his pocket. Bills, coins. He placed them carefully on the ground in a row. “This is all my savings. I give it all to you.” “I’ll never steal again.” Then, he knelt down and thud, kowtowed to the owner. “I really, really won’t do it again. Please let Penny come home…” Another kowtow. His forehead turned red quickly. “Kid, get up…” Mr. Davis panicked, trying to pull him up. But Leo was glued to the ground, kowtowing again and again. People started stopping. Ladies buying groceries, grandpas walking dogs, kids going to school. They cast strange looks. “What’s going on?” “Isn’t that Old Davis?” “Why is the kid kneeling? And kowtowing…” Whispers surged like a tide. Mr. Davis’s face turned red then white. He pulled out his phone, dialing frantically. “Hello? Mrs. Zhang?” He turned his back, whispering. “Your son is kneeling at my place… Yes, kowtowing… people are watching… I can’t keep up this act!” Hanging up, Mr. Davis pulled Leo up forcefully. “Your mom is coming. We’ll go get your sister, okay?” Leo’s eyes lit up. “Really?” He scrambled up, ignoring the dust on his knees. “Penny can really come home?” “Really, really.” I floated beside Leo, wanting to brush the dust off him. My fingers passed through his knees. I could do nothing. But I saw the light in his eyes. That determination to “save my sister” made him look like a little hero. My parents arrived quickly. Mom tried to grab Leo, but he dodged. “I want to go get Penny.” His tone was persistent like never before. Mom froze. Dad squatted down, looking Leo in the eye. “Leo, Dad promises. We’re going to get Penny right now.” “You promise?” “Dad promises.” On the way to the warehouse, Leo was restless. He pressed his face against the window, staring outside without blinking. “Are we there yet?” “How much longer?” “Will Penny be mad?” Mom held his hand, whispering, “No, Penny won’t be mad.” Her voice was gentle, but I saw her hand shaking. Dad was silent, driving fast. I floated on the car roof, watching the familiar city flash by beneath me. The sun was bright, shining on the streets, on the people, on those who were alive and could feel warmth. And I was just a transparent shadow. We arrived at the warehouse. When Mr. Davis unlocked the door, his hands were trembling. “Penny is right inside. I brought bread and water yesterday…” he babbled. Leo couldn’t wait and rushed in: “Penny!”

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My best friend, Chloe, got hooked on gambling. Then, out of nowhere, she excitedly told me she wanted to take me to Las Vegas. “I just won big! I’m treating you to a stay at the Wynn!” But the moment we landed, she dragged me into a private VIP room deep inside a casino. “Actually, I lost fifty million. If I don’t pay up, they’re going to sell me to the cartels…” “But the Boss is looking for a woman with a crescent moon birthmark. If he finds her, all debts are wiped clean!” “You have one on your stomach, don’t you? I saw it when we were changing! I’m sorry, sis, I really don’t want to die!” I was pinned to the sofa by four men. Suddenly, I saw a child’s drawing hanging on the wall. It was a drawing I made for my dad before I was kidnapped. He cherished it like a treasure, saying he would keep it forever. A surge of energy hit me. I sneered internally. Chloe, oh Chloe, you really made the right bet this time. Too bad the winner won’t be you. 1 By the time I realized something was wrong and tried to leave, it was too late. “Ava, fifty million! I couldn’t pay that back in ten lifetimes!” “But God hasn’t abandoned me. He gave you that crescent moon birthmark just so you could save my life!” I gasped, fear choking me like a hand around my throat. I forgot how to breathe. “Chloe, you sold me?” “We’ve known each other for over ten years. You’re my best friend, and you sold me for fifty million?” My accusation made her stumble back. She shook her head frantically. “Don’t look at me like that… The owner of this casino is richer than god. His only obsession is women with crescent moon birthmarks on their stomachs. For a woman like that, he’d forgive any debt…” “He has this specific fetish, and you just happen to have the mark. Sending you here is… it’s for your own good! What if he likes you? You’d be the Boss’s wife!” An image of a sleazy old man flashed through my mind. I shuddered and shoved her aside, trying to leave. “If you want to be the Boss’s wife, go do it yourself! I’m going home!” But before my hand could touch the doorknob, a heavy blow struck the back of my head. “Ava, you forced me to do this!” My vision spun, and I stumbled a few steps before collapsing to the floor. She bent down and snatched the pink bead from my pocket. “Don’t think I don’t know. You didn’t come with me for a vacation; you came to find your biological parents.” “Since you’re here, if you help me pay off this debt, I’ll help you find your parents. But if you dare run… you’ll never see your family again.” The pain in the back of my head was excruciating. I struggled to move my lips, despair filling my heart. I was kidnapped when I was five. The traffickers, afraid of being caught, immediately changed my clothes and shaved my head. Everything I had was thrown away, except for this bead engraved with my nickname, which I hid under my tongue. In sixteen years, I forgot the way home, and my memories before age five faded. This was the only thing I had left connected to my parents. With the bead gone, all hope was gone. “Smart choice.” Just as Chloe finished speaking, the door to the private room opened. Several fierce-looking men walked in. “You’re Chloe? Heard you brought something to pay off the debt?” Chloe pointed at me and nodded eagerly. “Vince, the Boss wanted a woman with a crescent moon birthmark, right? This is my best friend Ava, she has one right on her stomach!” “See, I brought her. About my fifty million…” The leader didn’t even lift his eyelids. He pulled out a chair and sat down. “What’s the rush? Inspect the goods first.” His subordinates immediately pounced, dragging me onto the sofa and pinning me down. In seconds, they stripped off my jacket. One man reached for my T-shirt. I used all my strength to kick him in the shin. “Let go! Don’t touch me!” “Bitch, you dare kick me?” The man spat and slapped me twice across the face. I saw stars. Before I could speak, a terrifying gunshot rang out. The man’s leg exploded in blood, and he fell back howling. Vince held the gun, expressionless. “Touching before the inspection is done? You want to die?” “Drag him out. Don’t dirty the Boss’s carpet.” The others, shaken, quickly dragged him away. Freed from restraint, I lay there stiff, not daring to move. They had guns. If I struggled again, the next bullet would be for me. In the corner, Chloe was terrified, but a look of determination entered her eyes. “Vince, she really has a crescent moon birthmark on her stomach. It’s exactly what the Boss wants!” Vince glanced at her coldly, and she immediately lowered her head, trembling. “You guys, go. Hurry up, don’t waste my time.” Four more men approached. As I frantically scooted back, I suddenly saw a familiar drawing hanging on the wall. A family of three flying a kite. Above the little girl with the ponytail, a name was written—a name I would never forget until the day I die. “Sia.” That was a drawing I made just before I was kidnapped. Mom loved it, and Dad smiled, saying he would keep it forever. It’s Dad! All these years, he’s been looking for me too! Indescribable excitement surged through me. I propped myself up on the sofa. “Is your Boss’s last name…” “So much talk. Nine out of ten times, it’s someone trying to pull a fast one.” Vince interrupted impatiently, aiming the gun at my forehead. “You. Shut up.” “You guys. Strip her. Check the goods.” 2 My scalp went numb. He could shoot his own man without blinking; he wouldn’t hesitate with me. Chloe whispered, trembling, “Ava, just be good. Once they check, I can leave. If you keep this up, I’ll die too…” Even now, she was only thinking of herself! I looked at the drawing again and decided to wait. If Dad comes after the inspection, we’ll recognize each other, and the crisis will be solved. Gritting my teeth, I endured the humiliation as they lifted my T-shirt. Below my navel, the crescent moon birthmark was clearly visible. “Vince, this one looks real!” Vince strode over immediately. Surprise flashed across his face when he saw the mark. He murmured softly: “It really looks exactly like the Boss’s drawing…” Knowing she was safe, Chloe smiled ingratiatingly. “Vince, since the goods are verified, my fifty million…” Vince stared at my birthmark and waved his right hand. “Cleared. Get lost.” “Okay, okay, I’m going!” Chloe nodded vigorously and turned to run. But she still had my bead! I jumped off the sofa and reached for her clothes. “Chloe, you can’t leave…” “Don’t let her run!” At Vince’s command, the nearest subordinate kicked me in the stomach. I couldn’t dodge and fell backward, the back of my head hitting the corner of the table. Vince roared, “You looking to die? How many times have I said, don’t touch her until confirmed!” The blow from Chloe’s stick earlier was still throbbing, and now something warm was flowing out. I leaned against the table, touched the back of my head, and my hand came away covered in blood. My vision blurred. Consciousness was slipping away, and my limbs stopped obeying me. I can’t faint… I haven’t seen Dad yet… “Bad news, Vince, she’s bleeding!” Someone shouted in panic. Vince frowned deeply. “You two, get a doctor. You two, go find the Boss. Tell him this birthmark looks very real, ask him to come take a look.” “The rest of you, be careful. If she really is the woman the Boss wants, and we pissed her off, she’ll tell on us, and we’ll all be in deep shit!” Several subordinates scattered. They ran into Chloe, who was standing at the door. She was dumbfounded. After a while, she asked tremblingly: “Vince… isn’t the Boss just looking for a mistress? Is a mistress that important?” Vince shot her a fierce look. “Idiot. Why else would the Boss offer such a huge reward? Bring her in, debt cleared?” “But this debt isn’t for just anyone to clear.” “Others brought women with crescent moon birthmarks before. But they didn’t know exactly where the Boss wanted it, so they just tattooed one randomly.” “And they were all disposed of by the Boss.” Chloe shuddered. She heard Vince say finally: “You’re lucky. This woman’s moon is exactly where the Boss wants it. Not an inch off.” “Just wait. If she really is the one the Boss wants, not only is your fifty million gone, but your best friend will be living the high life, and you’ll be enjoying it with her.” Chloe’s eyes darted around, and her face changed. I had a bad feeling. Using my remaining consciousness, I opened my mouth. “I, I am…” “Vince, I’m sorry!” Chloe suddenly rushed over, her sharp manicured nails digging into my thigh. “Her birthmark is fake!” “I can’t lie to the Boss. I’ll pay back the fifty million. I won’t use this to clear the debt!” 3 Vince instantly flew into a rage. “Chloe, you wanna die?!” “No! She forced me to come!” With the gun pointed at her, she dropped to her knees with a thud. “She found out about the birthmark location from somewhere, went to a tattoo parlor to get one, and forced me to bring her here.” “She said she wanted to climb up to the Boss and enjoy wealth and glory!” “It’s true! She threatened to kill my parents if I didn’t bring her!” Chloe begged ceaselessly, tears streaming down her face. I gasped for air beside her, shaking my head vigorously. “I didn’t… I am…” “Ava, stop lying! You can fool people for a moment but not forever. If the Boss finds out your birthmark is fake, you’ll die even more miserably!” Vince looked down from above, his sharp eyes staring at my exposed crescent moon birthmark, as if trying to discern which of us was telling the truth. But he didn’t seem to know that Dad was looking for his daughter, not a lover. If he looked at my face more closely, maybe he would realize I resembled Dad… Suddenly, a shout came from outside. “Vince! That gang is causing trouble in the casino again!” Vince picked up his gun and headed out. “You guys guard the door. Don’t let either of them leave. I’ll be right back.” The door to the private room closed, leaving only the two of us. Chloe lowered her voice. “I didn’t expect the casino boss’s fetish to be so obsessive. Match the birthmark, become the Boss’s wife!” I tried to stay awake, but my body kept sliding down. The blood from the back of my head was flowing faster. I couldn’t hold on much longer. “What… what do you want…” A look of madness flashed across her face, her chest heaving as she spoke. “I was wrong. I thought he just wanted a mistress to sleep with… No, I can’t let you be the Boss’s wife.” “Or you’ll never let me go… just like I won’t let you go!” I panted heavily, shaking my head. “We’re best friends. Just let me go, and I’ll forget everything.” “Impossible. You must hate me to death!” “Really… Think about it. Without me, how will you pay the fifty million? They’ll sell you to the cartels. That’s worse than death!” Chloe paused, looking down, her eyes darting rapidly. Seeing hope, I continued: “Let me go. I swear I won’t say anything. I’ll share the wealth with you. That fifty million… I’ll pay it for you.” Her expression finally changed, licking her dry lips. I secretly sighed in relief. But before I could fully exhale, she suddenly clenched her fists. “No. You’re so stubborn. You haven’t given up looking for your biological parents for over ten years. How could you let me go?” “I can figure out another way for the fifty million, but you can’t stay!” With that, she pulled out a small knife and stabbed the tip straight into my crescent moon birthmark! “Ah—” I screamed in agony, but she covered my mouth. She sliced along the curve of the moon, then pulled out a small bottle of clear liquid and forced it down my throat. A bitter taste slid down my throat. I knew it was bad. “Don’t worry. This anesthetic takes twenty minutes to kick in. After that, you’ll pass out. No matter what happens, you won’t feel a thing.” She threw the empty bottle and knife under the table, whispering maniacally in my ear: “Sorry, sis. If only one of us can live, it has to be me!” 4 The anesthetic coursed through my body. I felt all my strength drain away, sliding to the floor, as if I would pass out completely the next second. Just then, Vince returned. Seeing the scene, he frowned and looked at Chloe. “What happened?” Chloe cried, pointing at me. “Vince, she was afraid of pain during the tattoo. She ran before the last bit of color was added.” “Now the wound opened… she said it hurts too much, she’s dizzy…” Vince lowered his eyes and saw a thin line at the tip of my moon, bleeding. “It really is fake…” “Go tell the Boss not to waste his time coming. This is another fake.” A shadow fell over my eyes, and a cold touch pressed against my stomach. “Almost fell for your trick. Almost got me killed.” “You like crescent moons? I’ll cut this piece of skin off and sew it to your face!” What… The knife tip pierced the wound. My dying consciousness was stimulated, and I screamed struggling. “No—I am the person the Boss is looking for!” “He’s not looking for a lover, he’s looking for his daughter! I am his daughter!” The room fell into a momentary deathly silence. Vince laughed coldly. “No wonder you dared to tattoo yourself and come here to die. You’ve got guts, saying shit like that.” “Our Boss doesn’t even have a wife, and you dare impersonate his daughter?” The knife went an inch deeper, and the anesthetic kicked in. I couldn’t feel the pain, but I couldn’t speak either. In a haze, someone reminded him: “Vince, this is the Boss’s favorite carpet…” The knife was withdrawn immediately. Vince stood up. “Take her away. Get someone to clean the carpet.” “Vince, sell her straight to the cartels?” My heart tightened as I saw him wiping the knife with a handkerchief, his eyes vicious. “Take her to the VIP room. Let the guests have their way with her. Sell her when they’re bored.” “And this woman…” Chloe immediately knelt, rubbing her hands and begging: “Vince, give me five more days. I promise to pay back the fifty million. If not, do whatever you want with me!” Vince frowned in thought for a moment, then held up three fingers. “Three days.” “Okay, three days it is. I’ll go raise money right now!” I was lifted up. I wanted to break free but had no strength. I could only watch Chloe rush out of the room like a madwoman without looking back. Two minutes later, I was thrown into the noisy VIP room. Countless men and women gathered around. Someone shouted: “Hey, isn’t this Boss Hudson’s favorite crescent moon birthmark?” Everyone laughed. “Another one trying to gamble with Boss Hudson.” “Normal. If you win, you’re the Boss’s wife, top of the world.” “Too bad this little girl lost the bet. Guess she’ll be living in a different country soon.” Some pulled at my T-shirt, some grabbed my ankles, others wrinkled their noses at the blood on me and walked away. I was like a discarded rag, unable to move or struggle. I could only look up at the magnificent dome, my heart filled with unwillingness. I was just one step away from reuniting with Dad… Suddenly, the whole room went quiet. The sound of steady footsteps approached. “Boss, Vince said this one is definitely fake. Told us to throw her here.” “Hmm. Handle it.” It was the voice from my memory! Dad’s voice! The footsteps turned, walking in the opposite direction. I panicked. Drawing strength from somewhere unknown, I shouted hoarsely: “I am Sia!” The footsteps stopped abruptly. That gaze looked straight over.

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My dad booked my high school entrance physical. While getting my blood drawn, I heard the nurse confirm: “Is this the sample for the bone marrow match?” I froze. That wasn’t on my physical form. And a match? A match for whom? She accidentally dropped the lab requisition form. As she bent to pick it up, a few lines of text stabbed into my eyes: Patient: Sophia Wu. Diagnosis: Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia. Guardian Signature: David Wu. I picked it up to confirm. It was definitely my dad, David Wu’s, handwriting. Who is Sophia Wu? Why is my dad her guardian? I immediately called my dad. “Dad, why does a school physical need a bone marrow match?” His voice paused, a hint of panic creeping in. “The hospital must have made a mistake, right? But it’s just a test, doing one or two extra won’t hurt.” I smiled and said okay. After hanging up, I went straight to the ward listed on the form. 1 Walking into the ward, I saw the girl lying in the bed. She was pale and frail. Her eyes and brows looked almost exactly like my dad’s. My heart sank. Clenching my fists, I walked over and asked: “Are you Sophia?” She was stunned, looking up at me. Before she could speak, a woman’s voice came from behind. I turned around. It was her mother. She looked to be in her thirties, young, dressed simply, with the air of a gentle wife and mother. She looked a bit flustered, her face pale, her hands trembling slightly. “You must be Sophia’s classmate?” Her voice was urgent and a bit shaky as she came up to pull me away. “She needs to rest. Come outside for a moment, I have something to tell you.” I didn’t refuse and followed her out of the ward. In the hallway, she visibly relaxed and hesitated before speaking: “You are…” I held up the requisition form and questioned her directly: “Why is my father’s signature on your daughter’s guardian line?” “Ma’am, what is your relationship with my father?” The hospital hallway was busy with people coming and going, some even recognizing her as they passed. She hadn’t expected me to lay my cards on the table so directly. Her expression grew even more nervous as she forced a smile to greet acquaintances. Then, with a strained smile, she explained to me: “That signature… my daughter is sick, and a charity organization is sponsoring her. The person in charge was there when we paid the fees, so he just signed it.” “My daughter has the same last name as me, Wu. It’s just a coincidence, don’t overthink it.” Her words were gentle, trying to avoid suspicion. But her gaze on me revealed a trace of malice and covetousness. I met her eyes directly. She looked guilty and subconsciously tucked her hair behind her ear. I saw the diamond ring on her hand clearly. It was familiar. It was a designer piece. And it was from my mom’s favorite designer. This reclusive designer had released a new collection recently, which the industry was buzzing about. It just happened to coincide with my parents’ wedding anniversary. I had secretly reminded my dad to snatch up this diamond ring for my mom as an anniversary gift. He agreed and asked me to keep it a secret, saying he planned to surprise Mom. But on the anniversary, what he brought out wasn’t the limited edition at all, but a common co-branded piece available in any store. Even the stones on it were cubic zirconia. My dad explained that he got the time wrong due to the time difference during an international meeting and missed it. He could only use the co-branded piece as a placeholder and would find someone to contact the designer for a custom piece later. Turns out, he didn’t miss it. He just gave it to another woman. And used a perfunctory gift to dismiss my mom. I gritted my teeth, suppressing the surging anger. Staring at Grace’s awkward expression, my smile didn’t reach my eyes: “Ma’am, your ring is beautiful. Is it the designer limited edition?” “My mom waited a long time but couldn’t buy it.” She probably didn’t expect a kid like me to recognize it. Her movements froze instantly, her face turning ugly. She hurriedly pulled her hair forward to cover the ring, stammering an excuse: “What designer edition… I don’t understand these things. My daughter bought it for me casually, it’s not worth much.” “I have to take care of my child, I’m leaving now.” “By the way, please don’t spread rumors about today, lest your family misunderstands.” With that, she turned in a panic and fled back to the ward. Watching her wretched escape, I sneered inwardly. Heh. A coward with no guts. Without looking back, I turned and left the hospital. Sitting in the car, I immediately contacted my grandfather’s assistant: “Help me check my dad’s recent unusual activities, especially his travel itinerary and financial transactions.” “Be quick, but be careful not to alert him.” “Save any evidence immediately.” 2 When I got home, my mom was stewing soup in the kitchen. My dad was busy with business when he was young and ate irregularly, resulting in serious stomach problems. He had undergone two stomach resection surgeries. My mom felt sorry for him. Someone who never cooked, she went into the kitchen especially for him. Soups, porridges, medicinal meals… She managed to nurse his stomach back to 70-80% health. From what I can remember, it’s been almost ten years now. In two days, it will be my parents’ 20th wedding anniversary. Yet at this moment, I discovered my dad was cheating. Watching her busy back in the kitchen, the resentment in my heart turned into sadness, and I couldn’t hold back my tears anymore. She was over forty, but she kept her figure well and her skin was tight. She looked about thirty. Only those hands, with slightly enlarged knuckles, calluses on the palms, and a few pale old scars on the back. She used to love getting manicures, but later stopped because it was inconvenient for cooking. I walked into the kitchen and hugged her gently from behind. She was startled, then laughed and teased me: “You’re back? You’re about to be a high schooler, why are you still acting like a baby?” “Go out quickly, it’s smoky in here, I’m busy.” Seeing I didn’t move, she sensed something was wrong. Turning around, she saw my tear-streaked face and immediately looked nervous. “Lily, why are you crying? Didn’t you go for a physical? Dad didn’t go with you? Let me ask…” She reached for her phone as she spoke. I grabbed her wrist and shook my head hard. “Don’t call him!” My mom froze, looking at me uneasily, waiting for me to speak. I closed my eyes tight, my throat tight: “My dad… he’s cheating.” “The woman’s name is Grace Wu. She used to be his secretary.” My movements were stiff, my fingers trembling slightly as I took out the tablet from my bag. The screen lit up, showing the information Uncle Feng, my grandfather’s assistant, had helped me investigate. The light from the screen illuminated Mom’s pale face. I scrolled through the pages, showing her item by item. “They got together not long after she joined the company. That was when… you just got pregnant with me.” “Less than half a year later, she resigned because she was pregnant. My dad bought a large flat in the Cloud Mansion near our house, and the owner is her.” “When you were suffering in late pregnancy, swollen all over and unable to sleep, my dad was over there making pregnancy meals for her; when you were fighting for your life during a difficult labor, he was massaging her and walking with her to relieve pain.” “When you were lying in the hospital bed after the C-section, he was accompanying that woman for her checkups, telling her to walk more so she wouldn’t have to suffer a C-section later.” “Mom, that illegitimate daughter is only six months younger than me. He cheated while you were pregnant.” I cried as I spoke, tears falling on the tablet screen, blooming into small wet marks. My mom stared blankly at the text and photos, her eyes gradually turning red and filling with tears. “How could he…” “Dating, marriage, twenty years. How could he…” I hugged her tight, took a deep breath, and continued. “Mom, do you remember the fire at our house when I was little?” She nodded, her voice even hoarser: “Of course I remember. I was on a business trip, your dad was working and taking care of you. He turned around and you set the curtains on fire… He risked his life to save you, terrified, guarding you in the hospital, saying if you were gone, he couldn’t live either.” “Later, when you got out of the ICU, he was so nervous, following you everywhere, often waking up at night to check on you, and constantly comforting me, saying it was all his fault… At that time, I thought he really loved you and cared about this family.” Speaking of this, her words revealed a trace of cold sarcasm. I continued to scroll the screen, my finger stopping on an investigation report. “What if I said that fire wasn’t an accident at all?” “He thought I was asleep and was in a hurry to see that mother and daughter. He threw an unextinguished cigarette butt into the trash can.” “The window wasn’t closed, the wind blew the curtain in, and it caught fire. He locked me in the room… I had no ability to save myself.” “And he didn’t save me. A neighbor found out and called the police. Firefighters broke down the door and carried me out to the hospital. He… rushed there later.” “I was only a few years old then, and kept drifting in and out of consciousness, so I couldn’t remember exactly what happened.” “Do you think he followed me everywhere during that time because he loved me? He was afraid I would suddenly remember and tell you the truth… He was afraid you would turn against him and he would lose the resources and connections from Grandpa’s side.” My eyes burned, unable to distinguish between grievance and anger. The happiness I thought I had turned out to be a meticulously arranged scam. Grievance piled up to the peak and turned into anger. I hated him. I hated him for lying to Mom, and even more for giving me this fake love like charity for so many years. What are we in his eyes? But seeing Mom’s state, only heartache remained. She was the one hurt the deepest. I wanted to say more, but my phone rang suddenly. It was the hospital. “Hello, is this student Lily Wu? There are some indicators in your physical report that need to be rechecked. Please ask your parent to bring you to the hospital for a detailed checkup as soon as possible.” I was stunned, trying to make my voice sound calm: “Okay, I know.” Just after hanging up, my mom’s and my phones vibrated almost simultaneously. Sent to me: 【Lily, the hospital called saying you need a recheck. Dad will go with you the day after tomorrow.】 Sent to Mom: 【Honey, the French designer you like is holding a private exhibition next week. A friend sent two invitation tickets for the afternoon after tomorrow. You go, relax a bit.】 The day after tomorrow, exactly when I go to the hospital for the recheck. He specifically sent Mom away, wanting to take me alone to… Mom and I looked at each other, neither speaking. I really wanted to know, what expression would he have when his conspiracy was exposed? 3 On the day of the recheck, I arrived at the hospital with my dad. While waiting for a red light, he picked up his phone and sent a voice message to my mom. “Honey, did you get to the art center? Is parking convenient there?” He was testing the waters. Soon, Mom replied. “Arrived, queuing to enter. Parking was a bit far, walked a bit.” She also attached a photo. A photo of her and a friend at the art center. My dad clicked to enlarge it, then followed up: “Heard ‘Morning Mist’ is on display this time, did you see it? Remember you like that painter very much.” A few minutes later, Mom sent a photo of the interior of the exhibition hall. “Saw it, more shocking than in the album. A bit crowded, talk later.” My dad seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. He turned his head and gave me an impeccable smile: “Your mom can finally relax a bit.” Hypocrite. I pulled the corner of my mouth, the smile not reaching my eyes. At the hospital, he dutifully played the role of a good father. Recheck, examination, inquiry… He even carefully covered my eyes when blood was drawn. If I hadn’t discovered his affair and another daughter… I would probably rely on this tenderness and nestle in his arms like before. The process went quickly. After getting the blood draw receipt, he glanced at his watch, his tone natural. “Lily, wait here for a moment, don’t run around. Dad needs to use the restroom, back in a jiffy.” “Okay.” I lowered my eyes and answered softly. The direction he went was the hematology ward. After a while, I got up and quietly followed. The ward door was slightly ajar. I stood outside, looking through the crack. My dad was sitting by the bed, feeding Sophia medicine. The girl leaned on him with full dependence, crying. “Dad, I’m scared…” “Will I die? I don’t want to leave you and Mom…” My dad gently wiped away her tears, his tone very gentle. “Silly child, what nonsense.” “Dad found you the best doctors in the country and used the best medicine. Look, isn’t Dad always here with you? Our Sophia is the bravest, you’ll definitely get through this.” Grace also leaned over, stroking her daughter’s cheek: “Sophia, don’t be afraid, Mom and Dad are here. Your dad pushed aside so much work for you, running to the hospital every day, contacting this expert and that professor… Did you forget last time you suddenly had a fever in the middle of the night? Your dad was at a meeting abroad, took a red-eye flight back immediately after getting the call, and guarded you for two days and nights without closing his eyes. With Dad here, there’s nothing to fear.” The family of three was happy and harmonious. I stood outside like a clown. I remembered when I was eight, acute pneumonia, high fever almost 104 degrees, coughing my lungs out. Mom rushed me to the hospital, her hands shaking with panic. Called him, again and again, finally he only replied with a text: “With an important client, can’t leave, sorry for the trouble.” That whole night, it was Mom holding me alone in the emergency infusion room until dawn. Later I learned, that night, Sophia made a fuss not letting him go out. The so-called “important client” was accompanying them. My fingernails dug deep into my palm, but I felt no pain. Suddenly someone put an arm around my shoulder. It was Mom. She signaled me with her eyes that it was okay. At this time, the attending physician smiled and spoke: “Mr. Wu, Mrs. Wu, don’t worry. Although little Sophia’s indicators have fluctuated a bit recently, they are generally controllable. With the support of dedicated parents like you, the child’s good mentality is crucial for treatment. Our expert group has repeatedly deliberated the bone marrow transplant plan, and now we can operate as soon as the donor is ready.” “As long as it can save Sophia, anything is worth it.” My dad looked at Sophia, his voice firm. As long as it can save Sophia. What about me? Me, treated as a “donor.” Are my wishes, my health, worth considering? My heart ached numbly. My dad turned to the doctor, his tone steady. “I’ve already settled things with the donor. The relevant procedures can be completed today.” “Please take care of the surgery and arrange it as soon as possible.” Next to him, an elderly expert nodded in agreement: “Mr. Wu is truly resolute and cares so much about the child’s affairs.” “Rest assured, the operating room is ready. Once the donor finishes the final pre-op checks and preparations, we can proceed.” “With a father like you who has abundant social resources and is hands-on, the child is truly blessed.” The head nurse beside him also lamented: “Yes, Mr. Wu comes almost every day, we all see it. It’s rare to find a man who is successful in his career yet so family-oriented and responsible.” Another doctor added: “I heard Mr. Wu not only runs around for his daughter’s illness but also initiated a special relief fund in his own name to help families in similar difficulties. This benevolence is even more worthy of our admiration.” The ward was full of compliments and praise. Elevating him into a perfect father and philanthropist. Applause erupted as the words fell. The atmosphere was enthusiastic. Mom took my hand and pushed the door open, her voice cold and hard: “David Wu, is the recheck you mentioned just tricking my daughter here to be a donor for your bastard?”

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I was filling a water bottle for my hospitalized grandfather when a middle-aged man kicked a urinal in front of me and barked: “Go dump this. Then get some warm water and sponge bath my mother.” I didn’t move. The man grabbed my arm and yanked me back. “Pretending you didn’t hear me? Is this the attitude you nurses have now?” “Believe it or not, I’ll file a complaint! Call your head nurse over!” “Hurry up! Or you can kiss your paycheck goodbye!” I exploded on the spot: “Are you insane? Did you pay me to be your nurse?” My grandfather had a sudden stroke and was hospitalized. Since I was on winter break from college, I stayed by his side to take care of him. “Hey! You, nurse! Come feed my mom!” The uncle in the bed next to us suddenly ordered me around. Before I could explain, he started yelling on his phone, sounding stressed about work. I saw the old lady in the bed looking pitiful, so I decided to help out since I had a moment. “Hey! Feed her less at a time! What if she chokes?” “Can’t you see she doesn’t want anymore? Wipe her mouth, hurry!” “You damn nurse, zero hygiene! Can’t you wash the used towel?” The uncle shouted while shoving me hard. He used too much force, and I almost fell off the stool. My anger flared instantly. “If you’re so picky, do it yourself! You just stand there flapping your gums? I’m not a nurse!” I threw the towel in his face. Arguing in front of Grandpa wasn’t good for his condition, so I grabbed the water bottle to cool off outside. The uncle rushed in front of me, shoving a urinal into my hands without a word. “Go dump this. Then get a bucket of warm water and sponge bath my mother.” I instinctively stepped back, nearly dropping the urinal. “Are you disabled or stupid? Outsourcing your filial duties?” “How dare you talk to me like that, you lowly nurse? If my mom weren’t in the hospital, I’d beat you to death today!” He interrupted me impatiently. “Hurry up, my mom is waiting! Keep stalling and I’ll complain and dock your pay!” I was almost amused by his sheer unreasonableness. “If you keep blocking me, I’m calling the cops for sexual harassment!” I tried to sidestep him. He scoffed as if he heard a joke: “Oho, I wondered why you’d take care of an old man. Turns out it’s for dirty money!” He grabbed me, shoving the urinal into my arms. “Last warning. Go dump it! Or I’ll let everyone know you’re a mistress!” This was my new limited-edition hoodie! I knocked it away in disgust. But because I swung too hard, it splashed all over me. The pungent smell hit me, making me gag. “Are you sick? I said I’m not a nurse! Pay for my clothes!” “You dare curse at me?” His voice rose sharply. “We pay you nurses to take care of patients, don’t we?” “Who do you think you are? Talking to me like that?” “How many old men have you scammed? I’ll get their kids to deal with you!” Spittle flew onto my face; his fat hand almost poked my nose. I was about to vomit my breakfast. Just as I planned to seek help from a doctor, he played the victim first. He grabbed my wrist and dragged me into the hallway, yelling. “Everyone come look! This young nurse targets old men just for money and status!” Several patients and families poked their heads out. His voice went higher, gripping my hand tightly. The Head Nurse rushed over: “What’s going on? Who’s shouting?” The uncle pointed at me immediately: “Head Nurse, this employee is outrageous!” “Refuses to work and threatens to call the cops on me!” The Head Nurse looked at me, frowning within seconds. A look of disgust, thinking I was an unruly worker clashing with a patient’s family. She glared at me: “Which agency are you from? Where’s your badge?” “I’m not a nurse! I’m a family member!” I didn’t know how many times I’d repeated that. “Bullshit! You think saying you’re not a nurse absolves you of responsibility?” “If you aren’t a nurse, would you serve that old man? Would you feed my mom?” The uncle spat as he pointed. Then he turned to threaten the Head Nurse. “If you don’t give me an explanation today, I’ll make your hospital famous!” He pulled out his phone, aiming it at us. The Head Nurse panicked, apologizing to him humbly. Her look at me grew fiercer as she grabbed my clothes. She shoved me hard; I almost fell to my knees. “Young, no degree, so you become a nurse, but you can’t even behave. I’ve seen plenty of girls like you!” “Last chance. Apologize now! If you don’t fix this, no hospital will ever hire you!” The uncle chimed in smugly: “Hear that? Even the Head Nurse ordered you!” The onlookers got excited. “Is the bar for nurses this low now? No background checks?” “Damn, hundreds a day for a nurse, and she acts like this?” “Expose her online! Don’t let her work anywhere!” … I was exploding with rage at this inexplicable siege. “Are you all sick? I said I am not a nurse!” I was almost desperate. But my roar only brought a moment of silence. The uncle actually smashed the urinal onto my head! Residual liquid dripped down my hair. “Still stubborn!” I was stunned by this sudden malice. My head buzzed; I couldn’t think of a counterattack. He put his hands on his hips and cursed again: “Keep pretending! I’ve seen nurses like you, lazy and slick!” “Let me tell you, if I’m not satisfied today, I’ll stand here and shout until everyone knows your work attitude!” People chattered, advising him. The Head Nurse kept pressuring me. But the noise faded from my ears. Just as I wanted to hit someone, a familiar figure walked over, supported by a nurse. “Grandpa!” I swallowed all my emotions instantly and went to help. But Grandpa slapped my hand away in disgust. “Who are you? Daring to bully my granddaughter? I’ll beat you to death!” I was dumbfounded. The crowd erupted in louder whispers. Seeing Grandpa angry and treating me like a stranger… It hurt more than being wronged by these people! “Grandpa, it’s me, Ava! Your granddaughter!” “Before your stroke, you said you’d buy me candy!” “Look, this is the peace charm you got for me!” I wiped the filth off my hands and pulled out a charm. Years ago, I was seriously ill. Grandpa kowtowed up the temple steps to get this for me. But seeing the charm, Grandpa became even more agitated. He snatched it away, glaring at me. “You dare steal my granddaughter’s things!” “I knew you weren’t a good person! Always hovering around me!” “Speak! Where did you hide my granddaughter?” Grandpa couldn’t hold on anymore. Medical staff rushed him back to the ward. “Family, please follow quickly!” I panicked and tried to follow, but the uncle grabbed me. His face was full of petty triumph. “I told you, a woman like you just wants to climb the ladder!” “If you don’t want me to tell his family, serve my mom well!” The crowd pointed at me. Disgust written in everyone’s eyes: “Shameless.” I clenched my fists, trembling uncontrollably. Grandpa was old and often confused these years. Plus the brain stroke, it made sense he didn’t recognize me. But his condition was serious; I had to be there! I gathered my strength and slammed into the uncle. “I’ll settle with you later!” I bolted toward Grandpa’s room. My foot caught, and I went flying. My knee smashed onto the tiles; pain silenced me. The uncle held his head high like a victor. “Without a lesson, you think you’re lawless?” “Running back to bully the old man? No way!” Cheers erupted. Some even praised the uncle for his bravery and rectifying morals. I felt like a monkey in a zoo, utterly wretched. Unbearable. I pulled out my phone to call the police. “The surveillance is here. None of you are getting away!” The Head Nurse panicked at the mention of police. She lunged for my phone. “Which agency are you from? I’m firing you on behalf of the hospital now!” “Right! Hospitals save lives, we should kill this unhealthy trend!” The uncle’s approval fueled the Head Nurse. She called security, claiming I was causing a medical disturbance! Before I could argue, two guards grabbed my arms. Struggling caused a wardrobe malfunction. Phones went up. The uncle laughed maniacally, pointing at me. “Sell yourself often? Showing skin so fast?” “Why not go to a club? Maybe a boss will pick you up, save you from cleaning old men’s shit.” Disgusting laughter filled my ears. Blood surged; anger peaked. A nurse shouted nearby. “Where is the family for Bed 316? Sign this now!” That was my Grandpa! I screamed for the guards to let go. The Head Nurse was unmoved. The uncle grinned evilly at me. “Hey, name a price. Guaranteed more than nursing!” I bit down hard on his fat hand. He screamed like a pig. The taste of blood filled my mouth. Guards intervened; I broke free. Say I’m causing a disturbance? Then watch me disturb! I kicked the Head Nurse. Before anyone reacted, I grabbed her hair and slapped her face repeatedly. “A Head Nurse, treating a patient’s family like this?” She screamed piercingly. Not satisfied, I grabbed a urinal from a passerby and dumped it on her head. Gasps everywhere. “You… you’re crazy! Security!” But I held onto her hair tight. The madness in my eyes kept the guards at bay. The uncle tried to prove himself. “See? Hiring such a disaster! Patient safety can’t be guaranteed!” “Your hospital must take responsibility! I want compensation!” Brainless people were incited by him. I laughed. Taking advantage of the chaos for profit. I attacked the Head Nurse because I couldn’t beat the uncle physically. And I knew she was in the wrong; the hospital wouldn’t pursue it. This way, I could maintain my lawsuit against the uncle! I kicked over the trash cart. Instantly, foul trash scattered everywhere. People dodged; someone called the police. “There’s a crazy woman in the hospital…” I smirked. Finally, someone did something useful. Just then, Grandpa’s doctor spotted me and ran over. “Ava! Your grandpa needs emergency surgery! Why are you making a scene? Come sign!” He grabbed my wrist. The Head Nurse was confused: “Dr. Chen, what are you doing? She’s a crazy nurse!” “Yeah! Everyone saw her go mad!” The uncle chimed in. Dr. Chen frowned: “What nurse? Ava is the direct family member of Bed 316!” The Head Nurse’s eyes darted. “They said she was a nurse! How is she family now?” Dr. Chen held up the chart and signature forms: “Many old staff know her.” “The patient’s children are busy; this granddaughter has been taking care of him since admission!” He glanced at the paling Head Nurse. “You’re new to this ward, not knowing family is understandable.” “But listening to one side without verification and fanning the flames is serious negligence!” The Head Nurse stammered, sweating. Dr. Chen tried to take me away. The uncle blocked us, neck stiff, voice shrill: “Great! I see now! Acting so real! Even faking records?” “People do anything for money these days!” “Tricked the old man into revealing his assets, huh?” He filmed us. “Signing? Probably tricking him into signing a transfer agreement!” “Doctor, you defend her so much, are you in on it? Seeing she’s young and pretty…” “Shut up!” Dr. Chen rarely got angry. He stepped forward, his tall frame imposing. “This is emergency time! Every second counts for a life!” “It’s not your place to dictate with filthy speculation!” The uncle stepped back, intimidated. But under the public gaze, especially seeing doubting looks, his vanity flared. “You… who are you scaring! It’s just your word! No proof, why believe you?” “I’ve seen plenty of little girls scamming lonely old men, colluding with unethical doctors!” “If we don’t clear this up, who knows if you’re trying to kill him to destroy evidence!” “See, she’s scared speechless!” “You…” I shook with rage. Grandpa was dying, and this scumbag was spewing filth. But I knew the priority wasn’t fighting him. I took a deep breath, forcing calm. “You say I’m scamming my grandpa? Colluding with Dr. Chen?” “Aren’t you? Why the rush to sign? Why does the doctor protect you?” The uncle held his head high. I laughed suddenly: “Fine! Since you insist I’m a scammer. Let’s bet.” I raised my voice so everyone could hear: “If I prove I’m the direct family of Bed 316, you take legal responsibility for everything today!” He was startled by my look but scoffed: “Betting? What if you can’t?” “Then you name the condition.” He rolled his eyes, thinking he couldn’t lose. “Deal! Everyone heard it!” He shouted. “If you prove you’re his granddaughter, I… I’ll kneel and kowtow to apologize!” “If not, humph, enjoy prison!” “And you!” He pointed at Dr. Chen. “You’re going down too!” I ignored him. Grabbed the file from Dr. Chen and signed. “How’s Grandpa?” “Sudden stimulation caused a heart attack, needs rescue.” My heart tightened. What stimulation? Must be this bastard yelling in the hall, upsetting Grandpa! I wanted to kill him. The uncle smirked: “Hey, signed already, don’t think about slipping away!” I stared him down, adrenaline pumping. Opened my photo album. Photos of me and Grandpa from childhood to now! The latest one taken yesterday in the ward. “Do these prove our relationship?” I showed the screen. He leaned in, still stubborn: “Anyone can Photoshop! Technology is advanced!” I sneered, opening the family group chat. Hundreds of messages about Grandpa’s condition between me and my parents! Onlookers shifted. “Eh? Seems she really is the granddaughter…” The uncle’s face turned green then white. He wouldn’t admit fault. Still shouting to cover his guilt. “Chat groups prove nothing! Maybe you scammed his kids too!” “Wait for the police to verify! Scammers are sophisticated now!” I was about to show other proof. “Ava!” A familiar shout. My parents! Dad rushed over: “How’s Grandpa? Why the emergency room again?” Mom saw my filth. “Ava? Who did this to you? Mom will get them!” “Mom!” Seeing them, my tough shell cracked. I choked up. I pointed at the uncle: “Him! Called me a scammer, a nurse, said I’m after Grandpa’s money!” “Blocked Dr. Chen from saving Grandpa!” Dad rolled up his sleeves without a word, roaring at the uncle: “Bastard! You dare bully my daughter?” He charged, fist aiming for the uncle’s face. The uncle retreated in terror. “Who… who are you? Hitting people? Police! Assault!” He yelled for police but watched my dad in fear. “We’re the parents of the child you bullied!” “The one being saved inside is her biological grandfather!” Mom hugged me tighter. “I wouldn’t know my own daughter? Need you to slander her?” “Exactly!”

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At this company, no one has spoken a word to me in three months. I enter the break room; they leave. I get in the elevator; they wait for the next one. Around my desk, there is a three-meter dead zone where no one dares to step. My desk was moved to the storage room. My neighbors are the office printer, a broom, and a stack of calendars from last year. Today is the Annual Gala. I woke up at 5 AM. Not because I was nervous, but because I was excited. I’ve been waiting three months for today. 1 The gala invitations were sent out yesterday. A company-wide blast to 128 employees. I counted. 127 emails were sent. None for me. I didn’t ask why. I learned three months ago that asking only invites humiliation. At 8:30 AM, I arrived at the office on time. The time clock flashed: Sarah Miller, 08:27. The light in the storage room has been broken for two weeks. I filed three maintenance requests. No one came. I turned on my phone flashlight to find my desk. It was covered in a layer of dust. It’s not that no one cleans; it’s that the cleaning lady stops at the door. “No need to sweep Sarah’s room,” I heard her tell another cleaner. “Nobody goes in there anyway.” I pulled out a wet wipe and cleaned it myself. At 8:45 AM, I heard the office outside buzzing with life. “Chloe, what are you wearing to the gala?” “I haven’t decided. Brenda said red is lucky, so I bought a red dress.” “Brenda treats you so well.” “Of course, I’m her mentee.” The laughter faded down the hall. I opened my laptop and started working. Yes, you heard that right. I’ve been isolated for three months, but I still work every day. Not because I’m a saint, but because I have a mission. At 9:00 AM sharp, a new email popped up. From: HR Manager, Mr. Lee. Subject: Gala Seating Arrangement. “Sarah, due to limited seating, you are not required to attend this year’s gala. You may watch the livestream if needed.” I stared at the email for thirty seconds. Then, I smiled. I hit reply and typed three words: “Noted, thank you.” Send. At 2:00 PM, I ate takeout alone in the storage room. Spicy shredded potatoes and rice, $12 total. The cafeteria lunch is $15, but I don’t go there anymore. Three months ago, I walked into the cafeteria with my tray, and an entire table of eight people stood up and walked away. All of them. I stood there holding my tray while the whole cafeteria stared. Someone laughed out loud. That was the last time I went to the cafeteria. I finished my food and threw the box in the trash. Then I opened a folder on my desktop. Folder Name: 2024 Work Log. Inside were 387 files. Every meeting minute, every email screenshot, every recording of client calls. Including the one from three months ago—the $5 million deal. I looked at those files and took a deep breath. Tonight is the night. 2 Three months ago, I wasn’t alone. Back then, my desk was by the window, next to Chloe. Chloe was Brenda’s girl, but she was decent to me. “Sarah, lunch together?” “Sure, where to?” “Cafeteria. They have sweet and sour ribs today.” Back then, I thought I was lucky. I had only been at the company for a year and was already in Brenda’s sales team. Brenda was the Sales Manager, an eight-year veteran with top-tier connections. I learned a lot from her. How to drink with clients, how to make pretty PowerPoint decks, how to perform in front of leadership. But there was one thing she didn’t teach me. The unwritten rules of the workplace. On a Monday three months ago, I got a call. “Hello, is this Sarah Miller?” “Yes, this is she. May I ask who’s calling?” “I’m the assistant to CEO Mr. Zhang of Apex Group. Mr. Zhang would like to meet you tomorrow to discuss a partnership.” Apex Group. I almost dropped my phone. Apex was the whale our company had been chasing for two years. Brenda had made no less than twenty trips in two years and hadn’t even met Mr. Zhang. How could I, a rookie, possibly… “Are you sure you’re looking for me?” “Mr. Zhang said he enjoyed chatting with you at the industry forum last month and wants to continue the conversation.” I remembered. A month ago, I was sent to work the registration desk at a forum. Fetching coffee, signing people in—grunt work. During a break, I sat in a corner checking my phone. A middle-aged man sat next to me. He asked for my thoughts on the industry. I thought he was just a regular employee from another company, so I chatted casually. I had no idea he was the CEO of Apex. “Um… I need to report this to my manager.” “Manager Brenda, right? We know her,” the assistant paused. “Mr. Zhang’s intention is to discuss this partnership only with you. If your company has an issue with that, we can forget it.” Only with me. After hanging up, my hands were shaking. I knew what this meant. It meant the client Brenda couldn’t land in two years might be landed by me, the rookie. It also meant— I was about to steal Brenda’s client. I sat at my desk and thought about it all afternoon. Finally, I went to Brenda. “Brenda, I need to report something.” I told her everything about the call. Brenda listened, silent for a few seconds. Then she smiled. “Sarah, this is great news! You have talent, the client recognizes you. That’s your capability.” “But Brenda, you’ve been chasing this client for two years…” “If I didn’t get him in two years, it means we weren’t meant to be.” She patted my shoulder. “Go get him. If you land the deal, it’s yours.” “Really?” “Of course. We’re a team. Your success is our success.” I was so moved. That night, I worked until 11 PM preparing materials. The next day, I met Mr. Zhang. The third day, I got the letter of intent. The seventh day, the contract was signed. $5 Million. The biggest deal of the year. The day I signed it, I was nearly crying with excitement. I texted Brenda: Brenda, signed it!!! Brenda replied: Great. Just one word. I didn’t think much of it. Until a week later, at the sales summary meeting. On the projector, the cover slide read: Apex Group $5M Project Review. Presenter: Brenda. I sat in the audience, stunned. Brenda stood on stage, radiating confidence. “This project… we chased it for two years. We faced countless rejections, cold shoulders…” I listened as she described the proposals I wrote, the all-nighters I pulled, the meetings I attended. My name was not on the slides. “Finally, I want to thank the team for their hard work, especially Chloe, who followed up the whole way. Massive credit to her.” Chloe stood up and bowed. Applause filled the room. I sat in the corner, motionless. After the meeting, I found Brenda. “Brenda, about the project…” “What’s wrong?” She was packing her laptop. “Why wasn’t my name on the presentation?” Brenda stopped and looked at me. “Sarah,” she smiled, “you’ve only been here a year. You’re young. Just because you signed the paper doesn’t mean the credit is yours.” “What do you mean?” “Clients are company resources. Projects are team efforts. Did you think you did this all by yourself? Without the company platform, you are nothing.” I stood there, speechless. “Alright, don’t overthink it. You have a long road ahead. You need to learn to share if you want to go far.” Brenda packed her bag and left. Leaving me alone in the conference room. That was the first time I learned what “workplace rules” really meant. 3 I understood. But I didn’t swallow it. The day after Brenda’s lecture, I did something “against the rules.” I sent an email to the Big Boss, the CEO. Subject: Supplementary Information Regarding Apex Group Project. The content was simple. Attached were chat logs with Mr. Zhang, meeting minutes, and the signature page of the contract. Evidence of one fact: I landed this deal alone. As soon as I hit send, I knew I was done for. Not because the CEO wouldn’t see it—later I learned he did see it, but chose to ignore it. But because Brenda found out about the email. I don’t know who told her. Maybe the CEO’s secretary, maybe IT. But on the third day, my desk was moved. “There’s an empty spot in the storage room. You can sit there,” the admin said expressionlessly. “We’re reorganizing the office layout.” I didn’t say a word. I picked up my laptop and moved to the storage room. From that day on, no one spoke to me. No meeting invites. No CCs on weekly reports. People in the break room turned around when they saw me. I became invisible. No, worse than invisible. I was a plague. “Did you hear? Sarah tried to go over Brenda’s head and got caught.” “Serves her right. Ungrateful.” “Brenda treated her so well, mentored her, and she stabbed her in the back.” “People like that deserve to be shunned.” I heard these whispers in the bathroom, by the water cooler, near the elevator. Countless times. I didn’t explain. What was the point? In their eyes, Brenda was the veteran, the mentor, the good leader who bought them drinks. Who was I? A rookie, a rule-breaker, an “ungrateful” snake. Three months ago, I cried once in the storage room. Just once. After that, I wiped my tears, opened my laptop, and created a new folder. 2024 Work Log. From that day on, I recorded everything. Every email, every meeting I was excluded from, every detail of the ostracization. Including what Brenda did later. Like reassigning my other clients to different people. Like telling leadership I “lacked capability and couldn’t keep up.” Like ensuring I wasn’t even nominated for Employee of the Year. I kept it all. Not for revenge. But to give myself an answer. I was going to let everyone know who signed the $5 million deal. Who put my desk in the storage room. And what the people isolating me were so afraid of. Today is the Annual Gala. I’ve waited three months for this. I don’t have an invitation, but I have something else. I have Mr. Zhang’s personal number. Last week, I called him. “Mr. Zhang, I need a favor.” “What is it?” “Can you come to our Annual Gala?” Silence on the other end for a few seconds. “I can,” Mr. Zhang said. “Actually, I have a few words I’d like to say myself.” I hung up and smiled. Three months. I finally made it to this day. 4 You might ask, why didn’t I just quit? I asked myself that too. Three months ago, I almost did. It was the first week in the storage room. Friday evening, I packed up to go home. I walked to the elevator. The doors opened. Seven or eight colleagues from Sales were inside. They saw me. No one spoke. I walked in and pressed ‘1’. The elevator descended. 12… 11… 10… Silence. I stood in the corner, staring at the numbers. 9… 8… 7… Someone whispered something. The others laughed. I didn’t know what the joke was, but I knew it was me. 6… 5… 4… Chloe’s voice suddenly rang out. “Where are we eating tonight?” “Brenda booked the usual spot. She said it’s a celebration dinner for the team.” “That $5 million deal is enough to brag about for a year.” “Totally. All thanks to Brenda.” 3… 2… “Hey, I heard that deal was originally…” someone lowered their voice. “Shh—” another cut her off. 1st Floor. Doors opened. They poured out. No one looked back. I stood there, frozen. The doors closed again. I didn’t press a button. I just stood there. The elevator started going up. 1… 2… 3… I leaned against the metal wall, and finally, I broke. Tears fell one by one. Not from sadness. From hate. Hating myself. Why am I hiding in a corner when I signed the $5 million deal? Why am I treated like a criminal when I did nothing wrong? Why am I being isolated while they steal my credit? Top floor. Doors opened. Empty. I stood there, wiped my tears. Then I pressed ‘1’. That night, I went home and wrote a resignation letter. I didn’t send it. I saved it in drafts and lay in bed, staring at the ceiling all night. Resign? Then what? Go to another company? Will the next company not have a Brenda? Will there be no credit-stealing bosses, cliquey colleagues, or unfair rules? If I leave, what will they say? “See? Sarah couldn’t handle it. She quit.” “Serves her right. She didn’t know the rules.” “Who would dare cross Brenda now?” They would turn me into a joke. A failed, pathetic, self-inflicted joke. And that $5 million deal would forever be “Brenda’s achievement.” No. I refuse to leave with that label. I will let everyone know the truth. Even if I only get one chance, I will speak up. The next day, I deleted the resignation letter. And I began to prepare. For three months, I waited for one opportunity. The Annual Gala was that opportunity. 5 The Annual Gala is the company’s biggest event. Every department performs, awards are given, all the big bosses attend. And there’s one special segment—Project of the Year. The $5 million Apex deal was a lock for the award. And the person accepting it would obviously be Brenda. I had a plan. I didn’t need to accept the award. I just needed the truth to be seen. In early December, I started compiling materials. Chat logs, emails, recordings. I organized them into a PDF. 32 pages. Illustrated, annotated, undeniable evidence. Title: The Real Story of the Apex Group Project. Page 1: My first call with Mr. Zhang, dated October 12th. Last Page: The contract signature page. Under “Company Representative,” there was only one name—Sarah Miller. I saved this PDF in three places. Laptop, phone, email drafts. Then, I called Mr. Zhang. “Mr. Zhang, just confirming about the gala.” “Don’t worry. My assistant already sent the RSVP. I’ll be there, and I’m bringing a small gift.” “What gift?” “You’ll see,” Mr. Zhang chuckled. “Sarah, I’ve done business for twenty years. I hate credit-stealers the most. Don’t worry, I’ll speak up for you.” I was speechless. “I remember the ideas you shared with me. You have talent. You shouldn’t be buried.” “Thank you, Mr. Zhang.” “No need. In this workplace, someone has to be willing to tell the truth.” I hung up and sat in the storage room, breathing deeply. Three months of waiting. Three months of preparation. Three months of silence. It all comes down to tonight. At 4:00 PM, the office got loud. “Is your makeup done?” “Yeah, Brenda lent me her lipstick.” “When Brenda goes up for the award, we have to cheer loud!” “Obviously!” I listened to their laughter from the storage room. At 5:00 PM, the office cleared out to change and prep. No one came to get me. I didn’t need them to. I pulled a dress out of my bag. Black, simple. I bought it myself last month. Today, I didn’t need to stand out. I just needed to look like a normal employee. At 6:00 PM, I locked the storage room and headed to the venue. The banquet hall downstairs was glowing with lights. At the check-in table, two admin girls were greeting guests. I walked up. “Sarah?” One of them blinked. “Aren’t you…” “I have friends inside,” I smiled. “Just going in to look.” Before she could react, I walked in. The hall was packed and lively. I found a corner seat and took out my phone. The PDF file sat quietly on my screen. Thirty minutes until showtime. I looked at my colleagues in their gowns and suits, smiles plastered on their faces. I felt strangely calm. Three months ago, I was one of them. Three months later, I am an outsider. But after tonight, everyone will know who the real victim is.

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I was in the bathroom stall when I heard the new hire at the sink outside, loudly sharing good news with his family. “I passed my probation! They’re starting me at $12,000 a month!” I sat there in silence. I’ve been at this company for six years. Year 1: Starting salary $6,000. No raise. Year 2: Salary $6,000. Year-end raise of 5%, adding a whopping $300. Year 3, 4, 5: Salary stagnant at $6,300. Year 6: HR just told me I’m getting another 5% raise next year. Total: $6,615. I currently manage the execution of five major projects. I was so overwhelmed they hired three juniors for me to train. The newest one just passed probation. His starting salary is $12,000. Almost double what I make after six years of blood, sweat, and tears. I walked out of the bathroom, went straight to the HR office, and resigned. The HR Manager, Linda, was shocked. “Why?” “The pay sucks, and I’m done.” 1 Linda stared at me for a full thirty seconds, stunned. “Chloe, don’t be impulsive.” “I’m not being impulsive,” I said. “I should have said this six years ago.” Since graduating, I’ve dedicated six full years to this company. In that time, I went from a lowly intern to managing the execution of five key accounts. Operations, client relations—nothing happens without me. To help me handle the load, the boss hired three interns at the beginning of the year specifically to assist me. And my reward for years of loyalty? My base salary went from $6,000 to $6,615. Meanwhile, the male intern who just passed probation starts at $12,000. “Linda, I don’t want to waste words. Please process my resignation as soon as possible.” Linda’s expression turned sour. “But Chloe, you’re handling five key projects right now. Quitting like this isn’t very professional, is it?” “Professional?” I laughed. When I joined, this company wasn’t even a real office. The boss and employees—less than ten of us—crammed into a tiny 200-square-foot room. No AC in the summer, no heat in the winter, unpaid overtime every single day. I endured it all. Relying on the sheer adrenaline of a fresh grad, I helped build this place from a failing startup to a company that rents four floors of a downtown office building. And today I find out the intern makes double my salary. “Linda, do you know how much I make a month?” “$6,615.” “For that money, I average three hours of overtime a day. I’m revising proposals at midnight. Even when I went home for Thanksgiving, one call from the boss had me working on the train.” “The male intern who just got hired? He’s been here three months. Clocks in on the dot, leaves on the dot. Last week he messed up a meeting time, and five department heads came to me to complain.” “Yet his base salary is $12,000.” “And you want to talk to me about being professional?” Linda fell silent. After a long pause, she finally spoke. “Well, who told you to be a woman?” “Excuse me?” I stared at her, thinking I misheard. Linda pressed her lips together and sighed. “I thought you understood how the world works.” “You’re a woman, twenty-eight years old. You’re going to get married and have kids soon. Wedding leave, maternity leave, breastfeeding breaks… that adds up to almost a year off.” “Plus, everyone knows that after women get married, their focus shifts. Their productivity drops.” “The boss is worried you won’t be able to balance work and family. You have to consider the company’s costs.” Her words were like knives, stabbing deep into my chest. I didn’t even have time to process the absurdity before I instinctively asked: “What about you? You’re five years older than me. Your second kid is in kindergarten.” “How much do you make?” Linda smirked, replying casually: “$8,000. But the CEO, Mr. Wang, is my cousin.” One sentence destroyed my entire argument. I thought of the countless all-nighters I pulled for this company over the last three years. The endless cups of instant noodles I ate at my desk to meet deadlines. The training courses I paid for out of my own pocket to improve my skills. I worked so hard, suffered so much, and in the end, it all amounted to nothing against the boss’s one sentence: You are a woman. Because I’m a woman, everything I did for the company means less than a male intern who can’t even schedule a meeting. Because I don’t have connections, I don’t deserve a fair wage, even though the company would collapse without me. All because of what’s between my legs. I suddenly laughed. “Okay,” I stood up. “I understand.” Linda blinked. “Understand what?” I didn’t reply. I opened the door and walked out. I understood that this company has been rotten from the inside for six years. 2 I opened my desk drawer and pulled out a new voice recorder pen I bought recently. Originally for meeting minutes, it was now my only weapon. I slipped it into my shirt pocket. A cup of coffee was placed in front of me. It was Ryan, my boyfriend of three years. He’s half a level above me. “Linda said you’re resigning?” I didn’t look up. “Yeah.” “Because of the salary?” My hand paused. I looked at him. “You knew?” He hesitated. “I knew.” “How much do you make a month?” Because we weren’t married, I never asked. But now, I was curious. Ryan’s eyes darted away. “$30,000. But I’m a Project Manager. You’re just in Operations. We’re different levels, of course it’s different.” I stared at him. “You were promoted to PM at the beginning of the year, but your salary hasn’t changed in two years.” “I started managing key accounts two years ago. My raise was 5%. I make less than a third of what you do.” “For six years, I’ve known every detail of every project. Every department waits for my signal to move.” “Without me, this company would be paralyzed by the afternoon. Not a single product would ship.” “Ryan, in this company, I am more important than you.” Ryan frowned. “So what? Ability doesn’t equal salary. Mr. Wang sets the wages. If you have a problem, go talk to him.” I stood up. “You’re right. I am going to talk to him.” I owed my six years an explanation. I walked toward the elevator. Ryan, startled, chased after me. “Chloe, don’t be impulsive!” I didn’t stop. I pressed the button. From the bullpen to the 5th floor, my mind replayed the last few years. Fresh out of college. I met Mr. Wang at a job fair. He was 37 then, just starting out. “Chloe, don’t look at our size now. We have dreams. We work hard. If you come, I promise you won’t be mistreated!” I believed him. Year 1. A residential apartment. Hot in summer, freezing in winter. As the only girl, Mr. Wang was considerate. He gave me an extra $500 a month as a “hardship allowance.” “Chloe, a top-tier grad like you deserves better. Sorry for the conditions.” Back then, everyone else made $4,000. I started at $6,000. Year 2. Things looked up. We moved to an office building. I got my first office. Mr. Wang was thrilled and gave me a 5% raise. A whole $300. That same year, Ryan joined as my subordinate. Starting salary: $8,000. Year 3. I worked myself to the bone, revising proposals sixteen times in two weeks, and finally landed the Apex Group account. The company made a fortune and finally took off. My reward? A cheap plaque and the responsibility of managing all key accounts. Mr. Wang patted my shoulder earnestly: “Chloe, I knew I picked the right person. The company relies on you.” That year, I was 25. Salary: $6,300. Year 4, Year 5. I brought in more projects. The company leased four floors. But I lost my office. Ryan was promoted to Manager, and he needed the space. Mr. Wang had developed a beer belly by then. His eyes were always yellow and muddy from drinking. “Chloe, don’t blame me. This promotion is because your talents are needed with clients, not sitting in an office.” He smoked a cigar, acting like he was doing me a favor. “Ryan joined later and hasn’t sold much, but he’s a man. It’s easier for him to drink with clients. And sometimes the staff needs a strong hand—a man just commands more authority, right?” I was naive then. I thought, he’s right, I hate office politics. As long as the boss values me, who cares about a title? But now, hearing Ryan say “We’re different levels” so self-righteously… I felt like a clown. The elevator dinged at the 5th floor. I took a deep breath, walked to the CEO’s office, and knocked. 3 “Come in.” Mr. Wang was smoking. Seeing me, he snubbed out the cigarette. “Linda told me about you resigning.” He poured me a glass of water personally. “I understand you’re unhappy with the pay. But you’re a veteran here. The company invested so much in you. Leaving like this isn’t very professional, is it?” That word again. I held the water cup, looking at him calmly. “Mr. Wang, I’ve been here six years. My salary is $6,615. The intern has been here three months. His salary is $12,000.” Mr. Wang’s face stiffened, then he put on a fatherly expression. “Yes, the salary oversight is my fault. How about this? I’ll give you another raise. 5%. How does that sound?” $6,615 plus 5% is roughly $6,945. Not even $7,000. Still $5,000 less than the intern. I didn’t back down. “Mr. Wang, I followed you for six years. In the hardest times, we didn’t even have a water cooler. We brought our own toilet paper.” “Back then, you paid me $2,000 more than everyone else.” “Now the company is thriving. The smallest project I manage is worth $5 million. Yet you won’t even pay me the same as an intern. Why?” I stared at him, waiting for the answer that would kill my hope completely. Mr. Wang twitched his mouth, reaching for his cigarettes. “Chloe, I didn’t want to say this, but since you insist: It’s because you’re a woman!” “A woman?” “Yes. A woman.” The fat on his face shook. “I’ve looked into it. In Fortune 500 companies, do you know the percentage of female executives? 21%! Some don’t have any. What does that tell you? Women are naturally inferior to men.” “But my performance is the best in the company,” I retorted. Mr. Wang scoffed. “So what? Aren’t you about to marry Ryan?” I froze. “So?” “So you have no value anymore.” He analyzed it for me seriously. “Once you marry Ryan, you’ll have to be a good wife. Once you have kids, you’ll have to be a good mother.” “How will you balance work and family? You’ll take wedding leave, maternity leave, parental leave. Who pays for the company’s loss?” “Plus, everyone knows women get ‘mommy brain’ after marriage. You’re 28. Soon you’ll be 30, then menopause. There are tons of young people out there. Why should I hire you?” My eyes were dead. I spoke calmly. “My performance is good.” “For a woman to have such good numbers, who knows who she slept with,” Mr. Wang muttered. “My capability is strong.” “How strong can it be? The manager is still your boyfriend, Ryan,” he sneered. “I’ve been here six years. I have the most seniority.” “That’s why I didn’t fire you. I gave you a raise. 5% is not a little.” I went silent, staring at the water cup. Mr. Wang patted my shoulder. “Alright, don’t be mad. I’ll round it up to $7,000. Forget about resigning. Work hard, and the company won’t treat you badly.” “By the way, the signing ceremony with Apex Group is tomorrow, right? Prepare well. It’s our biggest project this year. Don’t disappoint me.” Apex Group was a partner I had cultivated for three years. They were famous for their culture of “Respecting Women in the Workplace.” And coincidentally, their newly appointed CEO, Ms. Shen, was a successful woman who had suffered workplace discrimination herself. I looked up at the smiling Mr. Wang and stood. “Rest assured, Mr. Wang. I won’t disappoint you.” I turned and left. In my pocket, the recording pen and the mini-camera were still glowing with a faint red light. 4 That night, I had insomnia. I wasn’t sure if I could get justice tomorrow. I only knew that someone had to do something. And I was willing to be that person. At 8:00 AM, I arrived at the office as usual. Linda knew about my talk with Mr. Wang. She looked at me with pity. At 10:00 AM, Ryan asked me to lunch to celebrate not getting fired. “Thank god Mr. Wang is a good person and didn’t hold your tantrum against you. If my mom knew you were unemployed, she’d never let us get married.” I picked up my tray and left without giving him a glance. At 3:00 PM, Mr. Wang arrived. He walked into the bullpen, announcing proudly: “To celebrate landing the Apex Group project, I had Linda prepare a big bonus for everyone!” “Boss is the best!” “Thank you Mr. Wang!” Linda handed out the red envelopes. The male assistant who had been here three years gasped: “$5,000! Boss is too generous!” “I got $5,000 too! Working for Mr. Wang pays off!” A male colleague seven years my senior laughed until his eyes disappeared. Next to me, Vivi opened hers and muttered, “Why only $3,000?” “Me too.” The ones getting $3,000 were all women. “Whatever, $3,000 is better than nothing.” “But I do just as much work as the guys. Why?” Yeah, why? I opened my envelope. Five crisp bills. $500. “Chloe, don’t mind. I just gave you a raise yesterday. If I give you too much bonus, others might talk.” Mr. Wang explained with a smile, watching my reaction closely. He was trying to “tame” me. I didn’t argue. I accepted the envelope calmly. “Thank you, Mr. Wang.” At 7:00 PM, the Apex Group cars arrived. Ms. Shen led her delegation into the hall. Mr. Wang and Ryan greeted them eagerly. At 7:30 PM, the ceremony began. Mr. Wang took the stage: “We are grateful to Apex Group for this opportunity. Since our first collaboration, we have upheld the values of openness, fairness, and justice…” He spoke eloquently. In the VIP seat, Ms. Shen looked satisfied. She took the mic: “We trust your capabilities. However, more than capability, we care about whether your values of fairness and justice extend to your employees, especially regarding gender equality.” Mr. Wang stiffened for a second, then laughed. “Of course, of course.” Before he could finish, the big screen on stage went black. A few seconds later, the conversation between Mr. Wang and me echoed through the hall. “You women are naturally inferior to men…”

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