At the college reunion, my mouth ran away from me, and I accidentally let it slip that I was simultaneously dating three premium-grade boyfriends online.
One runs a top-tier law firm, one is a researcher at the National Science Institute, and the last is a tech mogul from the Forbes list.
My frenemy, Jessica, stopped mid-chew on a pork rib, her eyes narrowing with mock sympathy. “I really feel for your future husband,” she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Passing over so many good girls just to marry someone else’s second-hand rose.”
I took a slow sip of my juice. “Actually, I’m in a bit of a bind,” I replied casually. “All three are great catches, and I can’t decide who to cut loose. How about this, Jess? You see one you like, I’ll let you have him.”
The words had barely left my lips when Jessica’s jaw dropped, her chopsticks clattering to the floor forgotten.
“Are you… are you serious?”
1.
As Jessica stared at me in stunned silence, a series of glowing text boxes suddenly appeared in the air, visible only to her.
[WTF, has the side character lost her mind? She’s actually giving away three titans to our precious main character!]
[Jessie, don’t hesitate! This is a jackpot from the heavens! Snag any one of them and you’re set for life. The side character has no idea what she’s giving up!]
Seeing the comments, Jessica’s eyes lit up. The temptation was obvious, but she was still wary. “Let’s get this straight,” she said, her gaze fixed on me. “Once you give them to me, they’re mine. You can’t take them back!”
“Of course not.” I nodded, my smile as innocent as a lamb’s. “You’re my best friend. We share our blessings, right?”
“Don’t worry,” I added reassuringly. “Aside from the tech mogul, who I’ve met once, the other two have never even seen my face. As long as you stick to the persona, you’ll be fine. The only question is, which one do you want?”
[The ultimate choice! The legal god, the genius scientist, or the billionaire CEO? How can anyone choose?!]
[You have to get them all! With your main character halo, you can conquer all three!]
Jessica licked her lips, her eyes gleaming with greed. “Forget picking and choosing. Your three boyfriends… I want them all. Besides, Sophie, you’re a great catch. You won’t have any trouble finding other men.”
Her answer didn’t surprise me in the slightest. I simply smiled and held out my hand. “Sure thing. The transfer fee is a million dollars each. Cash or card?”
Jessica recoiled, her face turning a blotchy red and white. “I thought you said we were best friends! Why are you charging me?”
“Even real sisters have to keep their accounts straight,” I said, pouting theatrically. “It takes time and energy to screen candidates and cultivate relationships, you know.”
I feigned a hurt expression. “If you think I’m asking for too much, we can just forget the whole thing. I wouldn’t want money to ruin our friendship.”
“No, wait! But this is a million dollars! Where am I supposed to get that kind of money?”
Before Jessica could argue further, the pop-up comments started chiming in again.
[Jessie, don’t be a fool! It’s only a million! Just sell your parents’ house, you’ll have it! If you miss out on these billionaire boyfriends, you’ll regret it for the rest of your life!]
[The side character really is just a pretty face and nothing else. She thinks she’s making a killing, but any one of these guys could drop more than that between their couch cushions. She’ll be the one crying later!]
[Can’t wait to see our girl conquer all three titans and come back to rub it in this idiot’s face!]
A giddy smile spread across Jessica’s face as she read the comments, clearly picturing that triumphant scene.
“Fine! A million it is!” she declared. “I’ll go home and get the money. You better hold them for me. Don’t you dare transfer them to anyone else!”
She paused, her expression turning stern. “And you better behave yourself. No last-minute flings with my future husbands. I don’t want your sloppy seconds!”
I burst out laughing and gave her a solemn nod. “Don’t worry. They’re all virgins. Squeaky clean.”
2.
Tempted by the dual allure of men and money, it only took Jessica three days to scrape together the million dollars.
Once the payment was confirmed, I was more than happy to show her the social media profiles of all three boyfriends and asked which one she wanted to unlock first.
After careful consideration, Jessica chose the young scientist, Dr. Alistair Finch. “This one,” she said. “He looks the kindest, like a sweet, gentle boy-next-door type. Should be easy to handle.”
I smiled without comment and launched into my briefing. “Alistair Finch, 27. Holds doctorates from four of the world’s top universities. Currently a lead researcher at the National Science Institute, with high-level government clearance and a national stipend.”
“We met on a forum for rare plant enthusiasts. Horticulture is his only hobby outside of research, and it’s your primary angle of attack. I can barely keep a cactus alive, so I had to put in a lot of work. I’ll send you my entire research file. You need to memorize it. Key sections must be recited verbatim.”
Under Jessica’s astonished gaze, I forwarded her a 200-gigabyte file of botanical knowledge.
“He’s meticulous in his academic life and values efficiency above all else. In his personal life, he’s snarky, introverted, and has a severe allergy to stupidity, though he’s not aware of it. My persona with him was the ‘proud but cute girl who never backs down.’ Playing dumb can be charming, but you have to know where the line is. Oh, and he’s deathly allergic to cats.”
After handing over all of Alistair’s information and contact details, I gave her a detailed rundown of our daily interactions, our pet names, and important inside jokes. Then, I offered her a warm, encouraging smile.
“That’s about it. Good luck. You’ve got this.”
[Gotta admit, the side character really puts in the work when it comes to seducing men. 200 gigs of data? It would take over a month just to read through it all once!]
[She only has to try that hard because she’s just a side character. She doesn’t have the main character’s halo, so she has to rely on rote memorization to score points. Our Jessie is the chosen one! Even if she knows nothing, the male lead will fall head over heels for her!]
Jessica’s face, which had been scrunched in misery as she looked at the files, immediately brightened when she saw the comments. Right in front of me, she lifted her phone and deleted the 200-gigabyte file.
“Sophie, your clumsy methods might work for you, but they’re not for me,” she declared smugly. “Just you wait. A woman with my kind of charm could talk about SpongeBob SquarePants and have Alistair completely captivated.”
I wasn’t the least bit angry. In fact, my smile grew wider. “Well, I wish you the best of luck. Just a friendly reminder: the transfer is complete. No refunds or exchanges, regardless of the outcome.”
Jessica scoffed. “Of course not. I’m more worried you’ll be the one trying to back out!”
With that, she logged into my burner account and threw herself into chatting with Alistair.
A week later, at another get-together, the first thing Jessica did was show off the necklace around her neck.
“Isn’t it beautiful? It’s the latest from Van Cleef & Arpels’ botanical collection. A diamond necklace worth over eight hundred thousand dollars! I saw it in an article, mentioned it to Alistair, and he bought it for me just like that!”
As she boasted, she shot a look at me, where I sat engrossed in a book, and deliberately raised her voice. “By the way, Sophie, you were with Alistair for so long. What did he ever buy for you?”
3.
I thought about it for a moment. “Hmm… a bookmark he made from a pressed leaf, a botany book he authored that retails for $28.80, and a rose-shaped brooch he carved himself.”
“That’s it?” Jessica’s grin nearly split her face. “That doesn’t even cover a fraction of what my diamond costs. You’re such a failure. All that time studying those useless books for nothing!”
I just smiled and said nothing.
Unsatisfied with my calm reaction, Jessica leaned in closer to continue her victory lap. “You memorized all that trivia, and he was still so snarky and condescending to you. But me? I’ve never once engaged with his boring science talk. I steer the conversation to celebrity gossip, and he eats it up! He even called me lively and cute!”
“Who says science guys aren’t romantic? The difference between being loved and not loved is just that obvious!” She smirked, her eyes filled with pity. “Oops, there I go again, speaking my mind. Sophie, I hope what I said doesn’t make you too sad.”
I wasn’t sad at all. Alistair might have been the fish I’d had on the line the longest, but he was also the one I cared about the least.
Our story began on that plant forum. I had simply posted a picture of the dying spider plant on my balcony, asking for advice. Then, Alistair, using a default username of random numbers, appeared and, just from the angle of the light, deduced the exact latitude and longitude of my dorm and provided a fool-proof guide to reviving it.
I asked for his contact info to buy him a coffee as thanks, but he was initially cold. “Sorry, my time is valuable. I can’t waste it on meaningless things.”
I scoffed at his message. Then, I casually snapped another photo of the plant on the floor, making sure the reflection in the glass behind it captured the subtle, alluring silhouette of my figure. I hit send. “But Professor, what if I have more plant questions for you in the future?~”
Three seconds later, he accepted my friend request.
His profile was a ghost town. No posts, a default avatar—it was utterly devoid of life. But a single “like” he’d left on a short video three months prior gave him away. In the video’s comment section, his simple remark, “Not bad,” had garnered tens of thousands of likes and a flood of frantic replies.
“OMG, it’s the god Alistair himself!”
“First-row seat to greatness!”
“If Dr. Finch would look at my project, I’d eat instant noodles without the flavor packet for ten years!”
A quick search was all it took. Alistair’s identity, along with a string of brilliant achievements, lit up my screen like a supernova.
From that day on, I channeled my high-school-senior energy into devouring a dozen botany textbooks, cramming my brain with obscure facts. Then, during our chats, I would “casually” drop my knowledge of niche topics. That, and a steady stream of artfully suggestive, no-face photos.
Six months later, this snarky, introverted genius finally dropped his cold facade and started making his move. I found it amusing and played innocent. “But what if I’m really ugly? The kind of ugly that makes you want to puke?”
I expected some sleazy line like, “It’s all the same with the lights off.” Instead, he typed back instantly. “I’ve cultivated many flowers in my life, but you’re the first rose I’ve ever tried to grow without soil. No matter what you look like, you are precious, unique, and irreplaceable to me.”
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On my seventh birthday, I finally ate myself to 120 pounds.
As I packed my backpack, ready to run away, I was told I was the true daughter of the Prady family.
Jasmine, who had been taken away a short while ago, returned to St. Jude’s Orphanage and handed me a carved wooden pendant.
“Lisa, this is yours. You’re the Prady’s lost biological daughter.”
I quickly shook my head. I’d traded it with Jasmine for a month’s worth of braised pork. I’d eaten the pork, how could I take the pendant back?
Not far off, a man roared in fury: “How could she be my daughter? My daughter couldn’t possibly look like a pig!”
I turned around at the sound, meeting my father, Jonathan Prady’s, eyes for the first time – eyes filled with stark disgust.
The Director replied helplessly, “Mr. Prady, according to the DNA test results, Lisa is indeed your daughter.”
The man frowned, walking closer, asking coldly, “Where is that woman? She just dumped you here and forgot about you?”
Was he talking about Mom?
Mom… she’s still in the hospital, waiting for my bone marrow to save her life.
…
Mom and I had made a pinky promise. I couldn’t tell anyone she was sick.
So I just stood there, silently, not answering him.
Dad’s face was cold. He looked me up and down. “She really is heartless. She abandoned me because I was poor back then, and now she’s abandoned you because you’re fat. We’re both just roadblocks to her.”
No.
Mom didn’t abandon me.
I argued back in my head.
She’s just… very sick.
The driver, a kind man, bowed slightly. “Mr. Prady, Ms. Jasmine’s adoption reception is about to begin.”
Jasmine gave me a deep, uncertain look, then got into the car with Dad.
The car started, threatening to drive away.
The Director, panicking, pushed me. “Are you crazy? Why aren’t you following them? Since you’ve found your father, the orphanage is no longer obligated to keep you!”
Because I was so heavy and clumsy, I stumbled and fell. My elbow scraped the ground, and gravel dug into my skin, sending a jolt of sharp pain through me.
The Director, forcing a smile, stopped the car. “Mr. Prady, since you are Lisa’s biological father, you can’t abandon her again, not morally, not legally.”
Dad coldly rolled down the window, his voice strained with impatience. “Find whoever abandoned her here. It has nothing to do with me.”
A chill ran up my calf. I looked down. My pant leg had ripped when I fell. A thick, exposed calf. I self-consciously tugged at it.
I knew I was clumsy and fat, that anyone would be disgusted. But I didn’t care. I just wanted to save Mom quickly.
Maybe, if I went back to the Prady family, I could find Mom’s hospital faster.
I quickly got up, staring at the car with desperate eyes.
The Director held out a document into the car. “We can’t find Lisa’s mother, but if you intentionally leave her here, it’s illegal. We can file a lawsuit…”
“Then go ahead and sue.”
“Drive.”
The driver didn’t move. He hesitated, then spoke, as if prompting. “Mr. Prady… maybe we should take Ms. Lisa back. This is a critical time. A scandal about abandoning a child would affect the company’s stock.”
The atmosphere turned awkward.
After a moment, Dad impatiently glared at me. “Are you going to get in or not?”
I was a little surprised.
I painstakingly climbed into the luxury car and found a corner to sit in. The vehicle slowly drove away. I didn’t lean out the window and wave goodbye to the Director like Jasmine had. The seatbelt was simply too short, digging into me, making it impossible to move.
Dad saw this and let out a cold laugh. “You’re just like her. Just as cold, heartless, and greedy for wealth.”
I heard the disgust in his voice. But I didn’t understand what he meant.
I just buried my head, trying to adjust the seatbelt. A half-melted chocolate bar tumbled out of my pocket and landed by Jasmine’s feet.
She was wearing a pair of delicate princess shoes, adorned with pearls, the surface sparkling. I could never wear such beautiful shoes. I was the fattest kid in the orphanage. Any donated clothes or shoes, even the oversized ones everyone else passed on, were still too tight and small for me.
I reluctantly tore my gaze away, stretching my arm to reach for the chocolate.
Dad’s dark leather shoe suddenly stepped on the chocolate. “Are you a starving ghost reincarnated?”
My hand recoiled.
A sudden, sour bubble welled up in my heart, then burst. At the orphanage, they called me “piggy,” “chowhound,” “starving ghost.” I was indifferent to words a hundred times worse. But when Dad said it, I felt an inexplicable sadness.
The speeding car finally stopped in front of a grand hotel. Jasmine followed Dad out of the car. His back, in its sharp suit, was stiff. His voice was cold and hard. “Keep an eye on her. Don’t let her run around and embarrass me.”
“Understood.”
Suddenly, it was just me and the driver in the car. He parked the car, glancing at me occasionally in the rearview mirror.
After a long silence, he tried to break the awkwardness with small talk. “Ms. Lisa, the Director said you can eat three children’s portions by yourself. Is that true?”
My face flushed, and I twisted my torn pant leg, mumbling, “Uh-huh.”
He stared, wide-eyed, but didn’t forget to comfort me. “It’s good to eat. Being able to eat is a blessing.”
He seemed to be talking to me, but also to himself. “Madam… that is, your mother, when she left the Prady family, Mr. Prady didn’t even know she was pregnant. All these years, Mr. Prady has been…”
A sudden phone call interrupted him. “Ms. Jasmine’s ballet shoes? Yes, Mr. Prady, I’ll bring them right up.”
He hung up and told me to unbuckle and rest in the car. Before I could react, I saw him hastily get out and lock the car door. I tugged at the handle, but it wouldn’t budge.
Time ticked by. Hunger slowly began to gnaw at me. I fumbled in my pocket. The only chocolate bar had been flattened by Dad’s shoe. I hesitated, but didn’t pick it up.
After a long wait, I couldn’t bear the hunger anymore. Auntie Doctor said I had to reach a certain weight to donate bone marrow. To save Mom, I couldn’t lose a single pound.
I started searching the car, hoping to find something to eat. In the glove compartment, I felt something hard. I pulled it out and saw it was a spare car key. I tried each button. The car suddenly beeped twice, making my heart pound. I pressed it again, and the unlock light on the door handle lit up.
I took a deep breath and pushed the car door open. I wanted to go straight to the hospital to find Mom, but hunger made my vision blur.
No, I needed to eat something first.
I followed a staircase up, accidentally stumbling into a banquet hall. It was brightly lit, with elegant music floating through the air, mingled with the sweet scent of desserts.
When no one was looking, I grabbed a handful of macarons and ducked under a tablecloth. Eating as I peered out.
Jasmine, dressed in a pristine white ballet outfit, stood obediently beside Dad. Dad smiled as he introduced her to the guests. “This is my daughter, Jasmine.”
“Jasmine, say hello to your aunts and uncles.”
Jasmine’s voice was soft and sweet. “Hello, aunts and uncles.”
“Hello, Jasmine. Your dance was wonderful.”
“This child must have suffered a lot outside, Jonathan. You really should spoil her.”
Jasmine smiled and nodded, every movement refined and graceful. I looked down at my torn pant leg and my stout figure. She certainly looked more like a Prady heiress than I did.
The macarons were quickly gone. I reached out a hand to grab more, but someone grabbed my arm and yanked hard. I tumbled out from under the tablecloth, exposed to everyone’s gaze.
A waiter, carrying a tray, looked me up and down. “Where did you sneak in from? Stealing food here?”
“Quiet down, just get her out of here. What if she disturbs the guests?” another waiter said, quickly pulling me up by the arm.
Unfortunately, everyone’s attention had already turned my way.
Dad’s face immediately darkened. “What are you doing here?”
The moment the words left his mouth, he seemed desperately worried I’d call him “Dad” in such a setting. He quickly looked up and snapped at the waiters. “What are you doing? Get her out of here!”
The several men who had just been talking to Dad gathered around. “Jonathan, who is this?”
My mouth was still stained with macaron crumbs, and my thick calves were exposed. In that moment, I felt like the monkeys Mom used to take me to see at the zoo.
No, a gorilla. Monkeys aren’t this fat.
It was Jasmine who reached out and took my hand, diffusing the tension. “She’s my good friend from the orphanage. Dad was worried I’d be lonely, so he adopted her to keep me company.”
“Dad wanted to surprise me, so he hasn’t had time to get her changed yet.”
The atmosphere softened slightly. Someone in the crowd whispered, “So Mr. Prady has another daughter? But there’s such a difference between the real and adopted heiress. From the same orphanage, one is graceful, the other is mistaken for a thief.”
“Must be starving, right? It’s rare to see a child that hungry these days.”
I had heard voices like that many times.
Since being sent to the orphanage, I had done nothing but eat. Anything edible, I’d throw a tantrum, cry, and make a fuss to get extra portions. Braised pork, the fatty parts other children hated, I devoured it all. My body ballooned like a balloon. But it wasn’t enough. I needed to eat more, get fatter.
Families coming to adopt, seeing me at the end of the line, would always ask the Director in surprise if I was really abandoned or if I had a weight-related illness. As if children nobody wanted were supposed to be scrawny.
Eventually, I stopped lining up. I didn’t want to be adopted anyway. I told myself, You’re doing great, Lisa. You can save Mom. But Mom, why did my chest ache when I saw Dad’s disgusted gaze?
The driver bowed repeatedly, apologizing, as he led me away. I spoke weakly. “Uncle, I want to go to the hospital.”
He frowned. “What’s wrong? Are you not feeling well?”
I shook my head. He said he had to ask Dad first. Dad… he didn’t even know Mom was sick.
I don’t know how much more time passed. When they returned, Dad was already tipsy, his eyes bloodshot. For some reason, neither the driver nor Jasmine got into the car. Dad just stood there, silently, staring at me for a long time. I felt uneasy, nervously picking at my fingers. After a long moment, he spoke coldly.
“Lisa. Is that the name she gave you?”
“Uh-huh. Mom said, ‘Lisa’ means hope…”
Dad scoffed, cutting me off. “You shouldn’t have been born into this world. She went through so much to leave me, only to end up with you. She must have hated you.”
“That’s not true!” I stomped my foot, arguing, but my nose was starting to sting. “Mom loves me most in the whole world!”
Lisa, with her mom by her side, was the happiest child in the world. She would sing soft songs to lull me to sleep. She would kiss my scraped knees better. She would cup my tiny hands in hers, wishing I’d grow up slowly.
Dad’s gaze was filled with intense hatred, yet his eyelashes glistened with unshed tears. “Is that so? Then why didn’t she want you? Why did she dump you at an orphanage, letting you get into this state?”
“That’s because! Because…”
Mom said she would pick me up on my seventh birthday. She didn’t come. But I knew she was sick. I didn’t blame her.
Dad’s voice suddenly trembled, though he tried to control it. “Because she’s a completely selfish woman! I gave her everything she wanted, but she vanished with all my remaining money. The rent was due, my company folded, I was like a stray dog with nowhere to go!”
“At 15, a woman claiming to be my mom said she wanted to start a new life with me. I believed her. I gave her all my father’s pension money, and then I was homeless.”
“At 25, the last thing your mother said to me was, ‘Jonathan Prady, even your own mother didn’t want you. What makes you think I would?’”
“She said she wouldn’t do this to me… She explicitly said she wouldn’t!”
“And now, she doesn’t want our child either.”
Seeing Dad’s pain, my chest ached with a dull throb. I instinctively reached out, wrapping my arms around his neck. He froze, then quickly reverted to his cold, disgusted self and pushed me away. “Do you think that will make me want you?”
“You’d trade a valuable pendant for a plate of braised pork. You eagerly left the orphanage when you found out you were the true heiress. Lisa, you’re just as selfish as your mother. I’ve already adopted Jasmine as my daughter. In a while, I’ll have someone send you to another orphanage.”
As if finally getting some relief, he pushed open the car door and coldly ordered the driver, “Take them back.”
I stiffly sat back in my seat, staring blankly at the tip of my shoe. These shoes were so tight. They were so tight, tears welled up in my eyes.
My nose suddenly felt warm. I expertly tilted my head back. The driver gasped. “Mr. Prady! Ms. Lisa is bleeding from her nose!”
Jasmine quickly climbed into the car, pulling out a handkerchief to wipe my nose. From the corner of my eye, Dad didn’t look back.
“If she’s sick, take her to the hospital. I’m not a doctor.”
The driver quickly started the car, speeding to the hospital.
In the emergency room, after a thorough check-up, the doctor sighed. “Little one, you’re too heavy.”
He mistook the driver for my father. “How could you let her get so overweight? The child doesn’t know better, but don’t the parents either?”
“Your weight is severely over the limit. Nosebleeds will be frequent. You absolutely must strictly control your food intake and lose weight scientifically! For today, we’ll keep you for observation.”
The driver nodded, taking notes, then went outside to report to Dad. Jasmine insisted on staying with me. The driver had no choice but to wait outside the door.
We squeezed onto the small hospital bed, just like at the orphanage, where she used to say I was so soft and comfortable to hug when she slept. After a very long silence, she spoke softly, “Are you mad at me?”
I knew she was talking about taking my place in the Prady family. I shook my head. “I wanted to trade the pendant with you. So it’s yours.” Whatever else she gained from it was Jasmine’s own effort.
In the entire orphanage, only Jasmine could dance. She could see a dance move in a picture book and perform it flawlessly. That’s how she got the chance to dance at the charity gala. That’s how Dad recognized the pendant around her neck as Mom’s cherished possession. So, with her dream of becoming a dancer, she embraced the misunderstanding and went back to the Prady family. She never expected the lie to unravel in just half a year.
In the dark hospital room, Jasmine’s bright eyes blinked. “Lisa, I’m sorry.”
She got up and rummaged in her pocket, pulling out a chocolate bar. “I remember you telling me that your mom would pick you up on your birthday. She didn’t come, and I took your dad away. This is from the gala. You can make a wish for your mom and dad to both come back to you.”
I looked into her eyes. She nodded firmly. So, I clasped my hands together and made a wish to the twinkling stars and the chocolate bar.
I wished.
That Mom’s illness would get better quickly.
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My mother brought me into the Hayes family when she married Mr. Hayes. That’s when I first laid eyes on my stepbrother, Jackson Hayes, and fell completely, hopelessly in love.
To be his wife, I clung to him relentlessly, alienating friends and family alike. Eventually, I got what I wanted.
But after we married, Jackson remained as distant as ever. Even in our most intimate moments, there was no warmth, just a cold, empty physical release.
One night, at a dimly lit bar, I overheard his friends asking him, “Why did you give up on Leslie Olson, the elegant heiress, to marry Astrid Sheen, your willful, naive stepsister?”
Jackson had simply chuckled, a weary, almost resigned sound. “Just responsibility,” he’d said. “She wouldn’t survive without me.”
He didn’t love me. He was merely paying for our foolish drunken mistake.
I stumbled out of the bar, my mind a blur, only to be struck by a speeding sports car and flung back to my seventeenth year.
Given a second chance, I vowed to mend the regrets of my past, with one crucial exception: I would no longer chase Jackson Hayes.
Yet, that very night, Jackson cornered me against the door, his eyes glistening with unshed tears for the first time in either of our lives.
“Astrid Sheen,” he pleaded, his voice raw, “Look at me. I love you too…”
1
The exact moment I realized I’d been reborn, I was standing by the dining table, holding a steaming Dutch oven.
“Astrid? Why are you just standing there? Put that pot down, it’s scalding hot!” My mom’s anxious voice snapped me back to the present.
I quickly lowered the heavy pot, but my fingertips were already flushed scarlet.
Everyone at the table was looking at me: Mom, my stepfather Mr. Hayes, and… Jackson.
This was the day I’d insisted on cooking a special breakfast stew for Jackson, knowing he suffered from stomach issues.
I’d nearly set the kitchen on fire, terrifying poor Mrs. Miller, our housekeeper, half to death.
My gaze instinctively found Jackson. My stepbrother. His sharp eyebrows were subtly furrowed, his thin lips pressed into a tight line. His eyes, fixed on me, held a hint of impatience.
I gave a self-deprecating smile. No matter how much I’d poured out my heart, it had always been a futile, one-sided affair.
In my previous life, at this very moment, I’d declared with a heart full of hope, “Jackson, this is a special stew I made just for you! Please try it and tell me if it’s good. If you like it, I’ll make it for you every day!”
All the boundless affection of a young girl had been slow-cooked into those tender, savory grains.
But Jackson had simply frowned, his gaze flicking to my reddened hand. “The Hayes household has a housekeeper, Astrid. There’s no need for you to do such unnecessary things.”
I’d frozen on the spot. Later, I’d cried myself to sleep, only to wipe away my tears the next morning and resume being Jackson’s devoted shadow.
Thinking of that, I took the first bowl and served it to my stepfather, Mr. Hayes, who sat at the head of the table. I gave him a sweet, playful smile.
“Dad, Mom said you’ve been working so hard lately, so I made this special stew to help you feel better.”
Mr. Hayes’s face registered a flicker of surprise, then he burst into hearty laughter. “Ah, a daughter’s thoughtfulness is truly unmatched! I won’t enjoy this stew for free, young lady. Your allowance will go up by a thousand next month!”
I thanked him with feigned delight, then served a bowl to Mom. “It’s my first time cooking, Mom,” I said, putting on a pout. “You simply have to praise me.”
I placed the third bowl in front of myself, then sat down and began to eat. A subtle awkwardness settled over the table.
Mrs. Miller, sensing the shift, started to clear her throat, moving to serve Jackson. “Mrs. Miller,” I said, my voice deliberately casual, “Jackson doesn’t care for stew. Don’t trouble yourself.”
Jackson’s fork paused mid-air. He said nothing, a silent acceptance. Mrs. Miller halted her movements.
I slowly ate my stew, a silent vow forming in my mind. Jackson Hayes, I, Astrid Sheen, will never again do a single thing for you, nor shed another tear.
2
Soon after dinner, there was a knock at my door. It was Mom.
She was dressed in a pearl-white silk nightgown, her face bare of makeup yet still stunningly beautiful. A stark contrast to the previous life, where worry had etched fine lines across her face because of me.
I couldn’t help but throw myself into her arms. In my last life, the person I’d wronged most wasn’t myself, but her.
After she divorced my birth father, she’d married Mr. Hayes. Back then, I hadn’t understood her, believing she was superficial and greedy, betraying my own father.
All the while, Mom endured my unreasonable tantrums, struggling to maintain her delicate position within their affluent circle.
When my infatuation with Jackson—and the drunken night we’d spent together—came to light, the Hayes family was furious. Jackson faced their severe reprimand, and I was thrown out of the house.
Mom begged me to go back and apologize, but I’d screamed at her, “I haven’t done anything wrong! I’m pursuing true love! I’m not like you, driven by greed and vanity, fickle and untrustworthy!”
I’d stood there, chin defiantly raised, but her hand never struck. She left in tears, yet every month, she’d still transferred thousands of dollars to me, terrified I’d suffer out in the world.
Later, when I finally married Jackson, Mom’s life within the Hayes household became even more difficult, and she grew increasingly melancholic.
It was only then I learned my birth father owed a substantial amount of money. Mom, fearing the creditors would harm me, had rushed to marry Mr. Hayes, seeking their protection.
And I had brutally broken her heart.
Now, smelling her familiar scent, tears welled up uncontrollably.
Mom gently patted my back, soothing me. “What’s wrong, my little princess? Are your fingers still hurting? Let Mom put some cream on them.”
She took out a tube of burn cream and gently massaged it in. “My sweet girl is growing up. Thank you for calling him ‘Dad’ today. I promise you, darling, I’ll never let you suffer any injustice again.”
With tears still clinging to my eyelashes, I grinned. “As long as you’re happy, Mom, I’d call him anything he wants!”
“What nonsense are you talking, you silly girl! Look at your hand, so burned. Please, darling, never step foot in the kitchen again.”
Her movements softened even more. “Jackson said this burn cream is the most effective. Your hand will definitely feel better by morning.”
I paused. “Jackson, you mean?”
“Yes. The house ran out of burn cream, and I was just about to go buy some when Jackson came back from outside and handed me a tube.”
“He said he bought it by mistake, that he’d grabbed the wrong one. He’s such a private boy, always a bit awkward. But he’s truly a good brother, cold on the outside, warm on the inside…”
The burn cream in front of me was the exact same brand Mom had given me in my previous life. Had Jackson bought it then too?
I pursed my lips. What a performative gesture. Disgusting.
3
The next morning, when I came down for breakfast, Jackson had already finished. His empty bowl still sat on the dining table.
The air held a faint, savory aroma. “Mrs. Miller, did you make that breakfast stew?”
Mrs. Miller glanced at Jackson, then stammered a little. “No, Miss Astrid, no stew. I prepared some mini quiches. Would you like a few?”
Strange. Too tired to ponder it, I replied, “I’ll have eight, please. And a generous drizzle of good olive oil, thank you, Mrs. Miller.”
Before the quiches were ready, Mr. Hayes and Mom came downstairs. There was a pleasant atmosphere between them, and I felt genuinely happy for her.
If their relationship was strong, Mom would have unwavering support within the Hayes household.
After finishing my mini quiches and the usual boiled egg, I stood up, ready to head to school. “Mom, Dad, could I have the driver take me to and from school from now on?”
Jackson’s hand, which had been reaching out towards my backpack, froze awkwardly above it, then slowly lowered.
Mr. Hayes and Mom exchanged puzzled glances. “Astrid, you’ve been a little odd since yesterday. Weren’t you the one who always insisted Jackson drive you, even if it meant taking the long way?”
I lowered my gaze. “I was thoughtless before. Jackson just took over the company; he’s incredibly busy. He really shouldn’t have to drive me.”
Mr. Hayes nodded, a look of satisfaction on his face. “Astrid’s grown up. Alright, then Old Man Robert will drive you from now on.”
At the word “brother,” Jackson’s body gave a subtle tremor.
In my past life, I had always refused to truly acknowledge Jackson as my brother, stubbornly calling him “Jackson” instead of “brother Jackson.” Even after we married, in moments of passion, I’d sometimes slip and call out “brother.” He would always tremble, then fiercely tell me to shut up.
Sleepless last night, I’d come to a realization. I didn’t truly hate Jackson. Even if he hadn’t loved me, he had never mistreated me.
What I hated more was the foolish moth-like devotion within myself…
Jackson’s deep voice interrupted my thoughts. “Dad, Mom,” he said, using the casual address for his stepmother, “since Astrid doesn’t need a ride, I’ll head to the office now.”
His expression was unreadable as he turned and walked away, his long legs carrying him swiftly. I let out a breath of relief. This life, we would simply be step-siblings.
4
Standing at the classroom door, I felt a wave of disorientation. It had been years since graduation; who could possibly remember their senior year seating arrangement?
Thankfully, I still had my best friend, Chloe. Round-faced, with a messy bun and black-rimmed glasses, Chloe Thorne suddenly tackled me from behind. “Wifey! Were you waiting for me?”
I turned and playfully pinched her cheek. “Of course I was.”
I followed Chloe to our shared desk. Glancing at the day’s schedule on the whiteboard, I pulled out my math textbook.
I asked, feigning casualness, “Where did we leave off in math yesterday?”
Chloe stared at me, her face a mask of horror. “Whoever you are, get off my wifey! Astrid Sheen would never, EVER utter the word ‘math’ during morning homeroom, a sacred time for gossip!”
I rolled my eyes, wanting to tease her. “Alright, I’ll tell you the truth: I’m reborn. In my last life, I just missed out on my dream university. This time, I swear I’m going to study hard and reclaim everything that should have been mine…”
Chloe’s eyes widened. “Really? Then can you tell me next week’s lottery numbers?”
I spread my hands. “Sadly, no. But I can tell you this year’s English Literature essay topic.”
I scribbled a line on a piece of paper: “A single bloom does not make a spring.”
Chloe giggled, tucking the paper into her English notebook. “My wifey’s never wrong! I’m going home tonight to memorize sample essays!”
Watching Chloe’s radiant smile, my nose prickled. In my past life, she’d worked so hard, only to miss her dream university by a single point.
The pressure of retaking the entrance exams had been too much; her personality had completely changed, and we’d gradually lost touch.
And me? My head was always full of romance and foolish crushes; my scores hadn’t even come close to a respectable university. After becoming Mrs. Hayes, I’d often heard people comment on me.
“Pretty, yes,” they’d say, “but willful, ignorant, just a pretty face with no substance.”
With this second chance, I would right every one of those regrets. I squeezed Chloe’s hand. “Let’s work hard together and get into a great university!”
5
Picking up senior year knowledge again was anything but easy. After a full day of studying, my brain felt like it had been cracked into eight pieces.
As dismissal neared, I got a text from Mom. “Darling, traffic’s a nightmare over here. The driver won’t make it in time to pick you up. Jackson will take you home today; I’ve already told him.”
The dismissal bell rang, and I slowly packed my backpack. Chloe looked at me, utterly astonished. “Usually, the moment that bell rings, you’re the first one out the door! What’s wrong? Not in a rush to see your crush today?”
Then I remembered. I’d confided all my secret teenage crushes to Chloe. She just didn’t know that the object of my affection was my own stepbrother.
I nodded. “No, I don’t like him anymore.”
Chloe clapped me on the shoulder. “That’s the spirit! There are plenty of fish in the sea; a strong woman like us shouldn’t waste her time on just one guy!”
Despite her words, I wasn’t ready to be alone in a car with Jackson. After all our past intimacy, it would be far too awkward.
I texted him: “Teacher kept us late. You go on home. I’ll just grab a ride later.”
With my backpack slung over my shoulder, I wandered aimlessly around campus, killing time.
Suddenly, a slightly nervous voice spoke from behind me. “Astrid Sheen, even though the man-made lake isn’t waist-deep, it’s pretty cold if you fall in.”
Huh? I realized then that I’d unconsciously wandered to the edge of the man-made lake behind the school.
I stopped and turned. The boy who’d called out to me wore his school uniform jacket over jeans. He was handsome, with sharp, defined brows.
A gust of wind ruffled his dark hair, revealing a flash of crimson tucked beneath. It waved like a mischievous antenna, greeting me.
“Ethan?” I asked. He froze. “You know me?”
Our school had a pretty strict dress code. Only one person dared to defy it by wearing jeans instead of uniform trousers and dyeing his hair. Ethan Blackwood, the school’s notorious troublemaker.
I’d heard that whenever teachers complained to Ethan’s dad, his dad would donate funds for a new school building or equipment. Even this small man-made lake had been built by him.
“Who in this school doesn’t know you?” I retorted. “But how do you know my name?”
A suspicious blush spread across Ethan’s face. “Oh, you know… from the campus’s Top Ten Singers competition last semester. You sang really well. I just… remembered.”
I tilted my head. This school troublemaker was nothing like the rumors. He was actually kind of… cute?
Was it because my mental age was several years older than his, making me see him like a little kid?
6
Ethan walked up to me. “I saw your back just now, you looked really down. Is something bothering you?”
I thought for a moment, then replied, “I’m alright. Just had a bad dream last night.”
“Must be all that senior year stress,” he said.
Ethan reached into his uniform pocket, then opened his hand in front of me. A red-wrapped caramel sat in his palm. His eyes crinkled into a smile. “Have a piece of candy. Sweet lips, sweet heart, and maybe you’ll have a good dream tonight.”
That vibrant, youthful face somehow soothed my agitation.
I took the candy from his palm, unwrapped it, and popped it into my mouth. “Thanks.”
My fingertips brushed his palm. It felt cool and a little damp, as if he’d broken out in a light sweat. He quickly shoved his hand back into his pocket.
“It’s getting dark,” he said. “Let’s head home together.”
We chatted idly as we walked towards the school gates. Ethan was surprisingly good at conversation; I don’t think I stopped smiling the entire way.
We even exchanged numbers. By the time we reached the main gate, my ride-share car had just pulled up.
I waved to Ethan. “I’m off! See you at school tomorrow.”
Ethan seemed reluctant to end our conversation. “How about I give you a ride home? It’s late, and it’s not safe for you to be alone.”
On the roadside, a matte black Porsche Cayenne was parked. Jackson Hayes leaned against it, smoking. The collar of his white shirt was slightly unbuttoned, the cigarette glowing intermittently between his fingers.
His dark gaze swept over Ethan from head to toe, then settled on me. “Astrid Sheen,” he commanded, “come here.”
7
“You… why didn’t you leave?” I stared at Jackson, surprised.
He extinguished his cigarette butt on a nearby trash can. “I replied, telling you I’d wait. Didn’t you see it?”
I pulled out my phone to check. “It was on silent. My apologies.”
There was no way around it; refusing again would be too obvious. I paid the waiting fee, canceled my ride-share, and prepared to go home with Jackson.
Just as I was about to step forward, I felt a gentle tug from behind. Ethan had taken hold of my sleeve. “Is he… family?”
I nodded. “He’s my stepbrother, yes.”
Ethan stiffened, like a small, bristling wolf cub, his eyes filled with wary concern. “Does your brother have a bad temper? I feel like he’s a little angry right now. He wouldn’t… hit you when you get home, would he?”
I couldn’t help but laugh, albeit without humor. “No, he wouldn’t. It’s just an extra half-hour wait.”
In my previous life, I’d once smashed an antique vase he’d bought for half a million dollars, and Jackson hadn’t laid a finger on me.
Ethan frowned. “I wasn’t talking about that… How about I still take you home?”
Jackson opened his car door, his gaze fixed steadily on me. “Get in. We’re going home.”
Why did it feel like… the atmosphere was all wrong? Were these two squaring off against each other?
Ethan’s voice, however, held a hint of mischievous invitation. “Astrid, fancy a ride on a motorcycle?”
My eyes lit up. “You ride a motorcycle to school?”
Ethan’s lips curved into a smug smile. “Got my motorcycle license the day I turned eighteen. Don’t worry, it’s perfectly legal.”
Unable to hide my excitement, I waved at Jackson. “You go on ahead. My friend will take me home.”
With that, I grabbed Ethan’s hand and pulled him away, completely missing Jackson’s face, which had turned as dark as a storm cloud.
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On the day of my father’s sixtieth birthday party, my wife’s lover, Lucas Croft, somehow infiltrated the celebration. He projected intimate photos of himself and Serena onto the grand screen, then grabbed a microphone and challenged me:
“Arthur Reed, please divorce Serena.”
“She told me being with me in bed was far more satisfying than being with you. She loves me.”
My father, enraged, suffered a heart attack and was rushed to the ICU. The last veil of dignity in my marriage to Serena was ripped away. I became a complete and utter joke.
The next day, I arranged to meet Lucas and treated him to a live show. In the room right next to ours, Serena was subjected to an ordeal with multiple men, her gaze vacant and broken. I smiled, asking Lucas, “She seems to be enjoying this even more than she did with you. Do you still want her?”
…
“Arthur Reed, you’re nothing but a monster!” Lucas slammed a fist into my face, roaring for me to release Serena.
Two bodyguards immediately stepped forward from behind me. One restrained Lucas. The other handed me a tissue. I wiped the blood from my face, then raised my fist and struck him across the bridge of his nose. A sickening crack echoed, and his nose broke.
Lucas screamed, “Arthur Reed, how dare you do this to me? Do you know who my father is…”
Before he could finish, a voice crackled over my walkie-talkie. “Mr. Reed, she’s fading.”
I looked up. On the screen, Serena had already passed out. I glanced at the time, tutting softly. “That quick? Give her some stimulants.”
A needle pierced Serena’s skin, and she slowly opened her eyes. Soon, the familiar sounds of heavy breathing resumed from the screen.
Lucas’s face went white. “Arthur Reed, you’re insane! This is a crime!”
“Mr. Croft, you exaggerate,” I smiled at him faintly, but my eyes were utterly cold. “I’m merely helping my wife satisfy her needs.”
Lucas shuddered, as if finally realizing the extent of my ruthlessness. He seemed to crumble. “You can’t do this to her! Arthur Reed, no matter what, Serena is your wife! If you keep this up, she’ll be destroyed!”
On the screen, the men’s heavy breathing continued, but Serena began to whimper in agony, begging them to stop. Seeing I was unmoved, Lucas’s tone softened. “Arthur Reed, it’s my fault. I shouldn’t have interfered in your marriage, and I certainly shouldn’t have provoked you at your father’s birthday, ruining your reputation. But this has nothing to do with Serena. If you want revenge, take it out on me. Please, let her go.”
I looked at Lucas, shaking my head. “Mr. Croft, your feelings for my wife truly run deep.”
“But don’t worry, I’m a fair man. Between her and me, she’s the one who made the mistake. You won’t be implicated.”
Two hours later, the voice on the walkie-talkie told me even the stimulants weren’t working anymore. I called a halt, then took Lucas to the adjacent room. The moment the door opened, Lucas burst inside. He embraced Serena, sobbing uncontrollably. “Serena, are you alright? What have they done to you?”
Serena was too weak to even respond, her eyes blank, lying on the floor like a broken doll. I walked over. “Mr. Croft, I’m still here. Such intimacy with my wife isn’t appropriate, is it?”
Serena finally lifted her head, her eyes burning with murderous hatred towards me. “Arthur Reed, you’re a complete madman!”
“Let’s get a divorce.”
Serena had taken many lovers. Quite a few of them had made a scene in front of me. Every time those men came to provoke me, I made sure she received the full measure of my retaliation. But this was the first time she had asked me for a divorce.
“No.” I looked Lucas over again. “Serena, don’t forget, I gave you a chance five years ago. Back then, you refused to divorce, and you even gave my father a heart attack. Now you want to escape, to be with someone else? Ha, keep dreaming!”
It seemed Lucas was indeed different to Serena. Before, no matter how I hurt Serena, she always endured it in silence. Only this time, she reported me to the police. Lucas presented a video, accusing me of kidnapping and coercing others to assault Serena, demanding the police arrest me. He gesticulated wildly. “Officers, he’s a lawyer! He knows the law and breaks it! A man like this practicing law is terrifying! You must arrest him immediately!”
The officer asked if what he said was true. I shook my head. “No, these are all false accusations. He and my wife were having an affair; he wants to take my place. I refused to divorce, so this is all a setup by the two of them to frame me.”
The officer’s gaze immediately shifted to Lucas, his face etched with disdain. Lucas grew frantic. “There’s a video! How can you say it’s false? I even have a witness!” With a phone call, he summoned one of the men who had been in the room that day. The man admitted to having been coerced by me into doing unspeakable things to Serena, and even produced the injection drugs.
Lucas immediately beamed with triumph. “With both human testimony and physical evidence, Arthur Reed, what more do you have to say?”
I said nothing, merely continuing to present my own evidence: Chat logs of Serena arranging to meet with several men; surveillance footage of Serena opening the door for them; and the drugs were purchased using Serena’s account, and that room was one Serena frequently booked. The evidence proved that Serena had arranged everything herself, gotten carried away, and then tried to pin the blame on me.
Lucas’s face turned scarlet with rage. “These are fabricated! Serena would never do such things!”
“Why not?” I pressed a hand to my chest, feigning heartache. “Mr. Croft, you still don’t know my wife at all. She loves to play games. Ah, you’re still young. It’s best you leave this toxic woman soon.”
My “sincere advice” landed in Lucas’s ears as pure mockery. He frantically accused me of fabricating evidence, demanding the police investigate thoroughly. However, after extensive investigation, nothing could prove I had done it. In the end, even the witness changed his testimony, producing bank transfer records, claiming Lucas had paid him a sum to commit perjury.
Lucas’s face went chalk-white with fury. “You’re lying! You were the most… involved with her that day!” He moved to strike me.
I blocked him. “Mr. Croft, he was kind enough to testify for you, and you’re hitting him? How unreasonable can you be?”
Seeing the apparent familiarity between me and the witness, Lucas suddenly understood. “You two are in this together!”
No matter how much he ranted, the incident ultimately ended with the police trying to de-escalate the situation. The officers told Lucas to return when he had concrete evidence, then escorted us out of the station.
As soon as I had seen the witness off, Lucas stomped over and slapped me. “Arthur Reed, Serena stopped loving you ages ago. You’re still clinging to her. You truly have no shame!”
I’ve always been one for an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. So, before he could finish speaking, I grabbed his hair and slapped him twice, hard. “Am I shameless, or is it you, the homewrecker who plastered intimate photos of yourself at another man’s father’s birthday party?”
At that, Lucas actually gave a chilling smile. “Serena was right. It turns out your father is what you care about most.”
My heart tightened. “Lucas, I’ve always believed that my wife’s infidelity was a failure on my part to manage her, which is why I punish Serena, not you. But if you dare touch my father, I will make sure both of you are utterly destroyed.”
“Oh? How exactly do you plan to destroy us?” Lucas smiled, a triumphant smirk. “Arthur Reed, aren’t you curious why Serena isn’t here today?”
My heart rate immediately surged. Just as I was about to grab his hair again to demand answers, my phone rang. After answering, I froze. My father had been discharged from the hospital.
When I arrived, he was lying in the hospital corridor. Nurse Eva told me that someone claiming to be my wife had come to arrange a transfer to another hospital. But after the paperwork was completed, she abandoned my father right there in the hospital. Eva had tried to call me several times, but couldn’t get through. She tried to arrange for him to be readmitted, but the hospital required a direct family member to do so. Without a doubt, Serena was behind this.
At that moment, my father’s face in the corridor was already turning purple. There was no time to question Serena. I rushed to find a doctor to admit him. But in the office, I was stunned. The doctor told me my father’s condition was too severe; they couldn’t admit him.
I exploded. “What are you talking about? Last night you told me my father’s condition had improved and he could undergo surgery! Now you can’t admit him?”
The doctor recoiled, frightened. “Mr. Reed, please calm down. A patient’s condition can fluctuate. He could be fine last night and severely worsen today.”
I asked him, “If he’s so critical, why did you allow someone to discharge him?”
The doctor spread his hands. “Your wife insisted on the discharge. We respected your family’s wishes.”
After a few exchanges, even an idiot would understand someone was pulling strings behind the scenes. Otherwise, how would the doctors dare to do this?
I left the office and immediately called Serena, demanding to know why she had done it. “To teach you a lesson, of course,” Serena said bluntly. “Arthur Reed, I think Jasmine was right. I was too kind to you, making you think I was easy to push around. After what you did to me, why wouldn’t I retaliate?”
I lost my patience. “If you want revenge, take it out on me! Why involve my father, Serena? Don’t you remember who took you in when you were begging on the streets?”
I simply couldn’t believe Serena would harm my father. She was ten years old when her family threw her out, nearly freezing to death on the streets in the dead of winter. It was my father who found her, took her in, and gave her food.
At the mention of the past, Serena wavered. She began, “Alright, then…”
“Serena, is that it? Are you just going to let this go?” Just then, Lucas’s voice cut in. “Don’t forget the real reason we’re doing this.”
Serena fell silent for a few seconds, then spoke again, her voice chillingly cold. “Arthur Reed, if you want your father admitted, then come and sign the divorce papers with me.”
“Impossible!” I roared. “Serena, don’t forget, five years ago, you angered my father so much he ended up in the hospital. You promised him then that there would only be widowhood, never divorce. If I divorce you now, even if my father recovers, he might just die from the shock!”
“What does that have to do with me?” Serena’s words were like a bucket of ice water over my head. “In short, no divorce, and your father dies.”
The call disconnected. When I tried to call back, her phone was off. There was no time to argue with Serena. I began arranging for my father to be transferred.
It wasn’t until several hospitals across the city successively refused admission that I received the information about Lucas that my assistant, Mark, sent me. Only then did I understand what Serena meant by “dies.” Lucas’s father was the chairman of the country’s largest pharmaceutical company, with partnerships with every hospital in the city. Undoubtedly, Lucas had contacted all the hospitals.
Years of legal experience told me that figures like us were mere eggs against a rock when facing such capital. Even if their actions were illegal and I found proof, there would always be someone willing to take the fall for them.
In my despair, Nurse Eva’s voice rang out again. “Mr. Reed, hurry! Your father isn’t breathing!”
I rushed to my father’s side. Confirming he had no heartbeat, I immediately climbed onto the bed and began CPR. Nurse Eva ran to find a doctor. Perhaps the doctors still had some conscience. Perhaps they simply thought a patient dying right at the hospital entrance would be too much trouble. Soon, two doctors arrived and managed to revive my father.
Afterward, one of the doctors pulled me aside, implying that even though he had been revived this time, my father likely wouldn’t survive another eight hours without proper hospitalization.
I understood what he meant. After entrusting my father to Nurse Eva, I went to find Serena. She was with Lucas, sitting on his lap and feeding him grapes. I slammed the divorce papers onto the table in front of her.
“Serena, I agree.”
Serena glanced at me, then nervously stood up. “Arthur, are you crying?”
I cursed at her. “Don’t pretend! Isn’t this exactly what you wanted?”
Serena frowned, said nothing more, picked up the pen, and signed. After signing, she told me, “Arthur, we can still be friends. Once your father… once Mr. Reed Sr. is discharged, I can even pretend with you.”
“Forget it. I wouldn’t be friends with scum like you.” I bent down, signed my name, and then flung the divorce papers at her. “Now we’re divorced! Go arrange my father’s admission immediately!”
Serena turned to Lucas. “Lucas, call the hospital.”
Unexpectedly, Lucas smirked. “Who said that if you two divorced, I’d let his father be admitted?”
I was dumbfounded. “You clearly promised me just now…”
“She promised you, not me,” Lucas stood up, patting my face. “Arthur Reed, aren’t you supposed to be so arrogant and brilliant? How can you not even handle such a small matter?”
I stared fixedly at Lucas. “So, what will it take for you to spare my father?”
Lucas chuckled. “Simple. Strip naked right now, go out to the street, and beg on your knees, loudly proclaiming that you’re a shameless animal, that you seduced a married woman. Do that a hundred times, and I’ll have your father admitted.”
The air instantly froze. Serena seemed about to speak, but Lucas’s stare silenced her. I took a deep breath, then spoke.
“Alright.”
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My grandmother has this obsession with making me go to bed early and waking me up hours before I need to.
I start work at 8 AM, but she wakes me up at 5 AM.
Every time, I have to lie to her: “It’s already 9 AM! I’m going to be late!” just to get her to stop.
Over time, the severe sleep deprivation gave me chronic anxiety and neurasthenia.
I was even called out by HR multiple times for zoning out.
One more mistake, and I’d be fired.
I begged my grandma: “I set my own alarm. I don’t need you to wake me up!”
She wiped her tears, acting like the victim. My dad saw this and slapped me across the face.
“Just go to sleep earlier! Why do you have to make your grandmother cry?”
I suddenly remembered that my dad was still banking on my salary to pay for his surgery.
Fine. Let them push me.
It’s not like I’m the one who needs the money.
1
At 8 PM, I finally finished a project and dragged myself home.
The workload had been insane lately. I hadn’t had a break in forever. I planned to zone out in front of the TV for a bit.
“Susie, you’re back? No work today? Why are you watching TV?”
Grandma came out of her room. Afraid the volume would bother her, I muted it immediately.
I explained that the project was wrapping up and tomorrow was a big day, so the company let us go home to rest.
But I still had to review some files my colleague would send over later.
I checked the time. The files wouldn’t arrive for a while.
So, I just wanted to relax.
Hearing this, Grandma got anxious. She walked over and turned off the TV.
The screen went black. Her tone was urgent and undeniable.
“It’s almost nine! Why are you watching TV? Go to sleep! You have work tomorrow. If you sleep late, you won’t get up.”
“By the way, sweetie, what time do you have to wake up tomorrow?”
I sighed helplessly.
“Grandma, I still have to review files later.”
“And for tomorrow, I set my own alarm. I’ll get up on time. Don’t worry.”
I knew her temper too well. If I told her the actual time, she’d be knocking on my door hours beforehand.
Better not to tell her. Tomorrow was a heavy workload; I needed rest.
Grandma didn’t get the answer she wanted and walked away, looking dissatisfied.
I rested for a bit until the files arrived.
By 10 PM, I finished the revisions. My boss, Mr. Henderson, called to discuss some details for the morning meeting.
Just as I picked up, Grandma walked in with a cup of warm water, urging me to drink it and sleep.
I nodded perfunctorily and continued talking to Henderson.
Five minutes later, she was back at the door, muttering about how staying up late damages the liver and causes wrinkles.
I was afraid she’d come in and yell if I ignored her, which would be humiliating if Henderson heard. So I nodded again, signaling I’d hang up and sleep soon.
But my worst fear happened. Grandma suddenly pushed the door open, her voice booming.
“It’s so late, why are you still on the phone? Hang up and sleep! Can’t you talk tomorrow?”
I covered the mic in panic, but Henderson had already heard. His voice was awkward.
“Alright… Susie, you get some rest. No rush, we can discuss the details tomorrow.”
I looked at the ended call, furious. I wanted to argue with her.
But seeing Grandma with tears in her eyes, looking so “concerned,” I deflated.
I had nowhere to vent this anger.
I just agreed to go to bed, apologized to Henderson via text, and got ready for sleep.
Grandma finally left, satisfied.
Maybe I was too exhausted, but it felt like I had barely slept when a violent banging on the door woke me up.
Grandma’s frantic shouting accompanied it.
“Get up! It’s almost ten! Don’t you have work? You’re going to be late!”
The banging was loud and urgent, like she was trying to break the door down.
I shot up from bed, mind blank, adrenaline spiking.
Henderson said there was an important meeting at 9 AM today. I grabbed my clothes and threw them on.
Without even putting on shoes, I rushed to the bathroom to brush my teeth.
As I finished, I noticed the window looked… different. Too dark.
I picked up my phone suspiciously.
The time on the screen made me freeze.
3:07 AM.
A wave of suppressed grievance and rage crashed over me.
I walked to Grandma’s room and raised my voice.
“Grandma! It’s 3 AM! Why are you waking me up? I told you I set an alarm. Why won’t you listen?”
Grandma came out, eyes instantly red, wiping them with her hand.
“I… I asked you what time to get up, and you didn’t say. I was afraid I’d call you too late and you’d miss work, so I called you as early as possible.”
Her voice was full of grievance, like a helpless child.
“If you had just told me when you were leaving, I wouldn’t have woken you up so early.”
I was exhausted. After consecutive days of high-intensity overtime, I didn’t have the energy to fight her.
“Didn’t I say I set an alarm?”
“How is an alarm reliable? What if the battery dies? What if it doesn’t ring? I’m doing this for your own good. I don’t want your boss to yell at you.”
She insisted on her logic, looking at me with total confusion.
Seeing her about to cry, I didn’t know how to vent my anger.
I took a deep breath, suppressing the turmoil, and explained gently.
“Grandma, I just need to leave by 8:30 tomorrow. You don’t need to wake me up early. I set multiple alarms. I will get up. I won’t be late.”
I watched her turn back to her room. Only when I heard her light click off did I relax.
This should be fine now.
Rubbing my throbbing temples, I walked heavily to the living room.
I took out my meds for anxiety and insomnia.
My sleep had always been poor. With the stress, if I didn’t take them, I wouldn’t sleep at all tonight.
Back in bed, I checked my alarms again before lying down.
My eyelids were heavy, but my nerves were strung tight. The slightest noise would wake me.
I didn’t know how much time passed before I drifted off.
“Susie! Get up! The sun is burning your butt!”
I jerked awake from a dream.
Reflexively, I grabbed my phone.
5:00 AM.
In that moment, all the exhaustion, grievance, and patience exploded.
I stared at the number on the screen, rage rushing to my head.
“Grandma, can you stop?!”
“I told you I set an alarm! I don’t need to get up until 7! Why are you waking me at 5?!”
Grandma was already by my bed, her tone urgent as always.
“Is 5 AM early? You have to leave by 8:30. Washing up and eating takes time, right? What if there’s traffic? Better to be early.”
“I don’t need breakfast! I’ll buy something on the way!”
“I need sleep! I need rest!”
I pointed at my head, my voice rising.
“Grandma, I have neurasthenia. The doctor said I need sleep! You torture me like this again and again—what if I make a mistake tomorrow? What if I get fired?”
The smile on Grandma’s face froze. Seeing my agitation, her eyes reddened again.
“I… I’m doing this for your own good… afraid you won’t make it…”
“If it’s for my own good, stop disturbing my sleep!”
I interrupted her, my voice breaking.
“Do you know how important this job is? Dad is counting on my salary for his surgery! If I get fired, what about the medical bills? Have you thought about that?”
“I didn’t mean to harm you… I was just afraid you’d be late…”
I threw the covers off, grabbed a jacket, and stormed to the door without a word.
After pushing Grandma out, I slammed the door and locked it.
I leaned against the door, chest heaving.
I knew I was impulsive, but I couldn’t take it anymore.
Back in bed, I pulled the covers over my head to block out everything.
The medication seemed to kick in. Combined with extreme exhaustion, I actually drifted off again.
I don’t know how much time passed when a soft knock sounded.
Followed by Grandma’s cautious voice.
“Susie, get up for breakfast. I made your favorite oatmeal and eggs. It’ll get cold.”
I woke up with a start, covered in cold sweat.
I checked my phone. 5:30 AM. Only thirty minutes since the last time.
A deep sense of powerlessness washed over me.
I lay there, not wanting to move.
Sleepiness drowned me like a tide, but my mind was wired tight.
The torture of a body wanting sleep but a brain unable to relax was driving me insane.
“Susie? Did you hear me?”
Grandma’s voice was softer, probing.
“The oatmeal is really soft, good for your stomach. Eat a little and then sleep.”
I closed my eyes, gritting my teeth, forcing myself not to respond.
In a trance, memories of being woken up too early by Grandma flooded back.
It was the winter of my sophomore year in high school. Mom was diagnosed with a serious illness and hospitalized.
Dad had to stay at the hospital 24/7, so he brought Grandma from the countryside to take care of me.
When she first arrived, she promised Dad she’d take good care of me.
Looking at my kind grandmother, I was happy.
But I never expected her to wake me up the next morning before dawn.
“Susie! Get up! It’s 6:30! You’ll be late for school!”
I asked groggily.
“Grandma, it’s pitch black. How is it 6:30?”
“You child, you’re sleeping too deeply!”
She threw clothes at me.
“Put them on! I heated up breakfast. Eat and go, don’t let the teacher catch you late.”
I was young and didn’t dare disobey her.
I fumbled to get dressed.
She brought warm oatmeal. I took two bites and was ushered out the door.
The moment I pushed open the building door, I was stunned.
Outside was pitch black. Not a soul on the street.
How could it be 6:30?
I stood at the door, wanting her to let me back in.
But the door was deadbolted from the inside.
Freezing and trembling, filled with grievance and fear, I had no choice but to walk to school.
It wasn’t until after 6 AM that other students started arriving.
No one knew I stood at the school gate for over three hours that day.
When I got home, I cried and told Grandma.
Hoping she would change.
She listened, eyes red, holding my hand.
“Oh sweetie, Grandma was wrong. I’ll check the time carefully next time.”
I believed her.
But a few days later, she woke me at 3 AM, claiming I was late again.
I argued, but she frowned and said:
“Getting up early is never wrong. What if the bus is late? What if there’s traffic? Why are you being disobedient? Do you want your parents to worry about you at a time like this?”
Afraid of stressing my sick mother, I didn’t dare argue back.
From high school to college, to graduation and work, this pattern of early waking entangled me for years.
A year ago, due to chronic sleep deprivation, I was diagnosed with severe anxiety and neurasthenia.
2
“Susie? Are you getting up? The oatmeal is really getting cold.”
“Enough! Are you done yet?!”
I screamed at the door, my voice tearing.
The knocking stopped instantly, followed by Grandma’s sobbing.
“I made breakfast out of kindness, afraid you’d be hungry. How can you treat me like this? I’m old, useless… even cooking for my granddaughter is annoying… I’m just a burden.”
“I didn’t call you a burden!”
Her crying got louder, filled with confusion and grievance.
“I got up early to cook, afraid you’d be late. I think of you in everything, but you talk to me like this… If you won’t eat, fine. Others need to eat! Your brother is still sleeping, go wake him up to eat.”
I wanted to laugh.
My brother, Tyler, has been mooching off the family since graduation. Sleeps until afternoon, games all night. Grandma never wakes him up early. Now she wants me to wake him?
I couldn’t deal with her. I put in earplugs, determined not to open the door.
Minutes later, my door was pounded heavily. Tyler’s impatient voice followed.
Grandma must have said something to him.
“Susie, are you shameless? Grandma made breakfast early, and you’re cursing her out?”
Cursing her?
When did I curse her?
I knew Grandma was triangulating again.
It was her signature move.
Whenever we had a conflict, she went to Tyler and Dad, complaining about how bad I was.
Packaging herself as the bullied victim, making me the villain.
Tyler’s knocking got louder.
“Open the door! Or I’m kicking it in!”
“Tyler, don’t kick the door.”
Grandma’s voice chimed in, not stopping him, but fueling the fire.
“Talk to your sister nicely. Tell her if she doesn’t get up, she’ll be late. If she loses her job, what about your dad’s surgery fee? She can’t be this immature.”
“Hear that, Susie?”
Tyler shouted louder.
“Grandma said it! Open up! Don’t make me do it!”
Just then, Dad’s raspy cough came from the hallway.
“What is that noise! Can’t a man rest?!”
Tyler stopped banging, tone softening instantly.
“Dad, Sis won’t open the door! Grandma called her to eat, she was ungrateful and yelled at Grandma. Grandma’s crying!”
“Susie! Open this door!”
Dad started banging harder.
Listening to the three of them perform outside, I felt nothing but agony.
I didn’t understand. We were a family. How did it become like this?
“Your grandma cooked for you out of kindness, woke you up so you wouldn’t be late. How are you so immature? Daring to talk back to your grandma and get angry at your brother!”
I took a deep breath, gritting my teeth.
“You still dare to have an attitude!”
I yanked the door open.
Dad’s eyes were full of rage. Grandma sat on the sofa wiping tears, shoulders shaking.
Tyler leaned against the doorframe, gloating.
I met their gazes, voice hoarse but clear.
“My job is this family’s lifeline! The surgery fees, the rehab costs—what isn’t supported by my salary? If I get fired for mistakes due to sleep deprivation, who is going to step up? You can all go pick through trash then!”
Dad’s face turned iron-green. He didn’t expect me to speak like that. He shook with anger.
Slap!
A crisp sound echoed in the living room. My head snapped to the side, cheek burning.
Dad’s hand was still in the air, eyes furious.
“I’ll beat you to death, you ungrateful thing!”
Grandma immediately stood up, grabbing Dad’s hand, crying.
“Son, don’t hit her, don’t hit her. Susie is young, she doesn’t know better. We’ll teach her slowly. I can suffer a little…”
Her eyes held no real intention to stop him, but a trace of hidden triumph.
As long as Dad and Tyler stood with her against me, she could be the “Good Grandma” again.
Speaking for me.
“Mom, don’t always victimize yourself. I wish I never had such a shameless daughter.”
Tyler fanned the flames.
“Dad hit her right! Sis is too immature. Grandma was nice to cook, and she talks back. Anyone would be angry!”
“Grandma, don’t blame yourself. We see everything.”
I covered my burning cheek, looking at this family, feeling utterly ridiculous.
“Fine. I’m immature. Since you all think I’m wrong, I’ll be wrong all the way.”
I was young, educated, and had some savings. I wouldn’t starve.
If they wanted to create chaos, I’d let them.
I walked to the table and sat down. The oatmeal was cold.
Clearly not made this morning.
Probably leftovers from yesterday.
Seeing me sit, Grandma sniffled.
“Eat quickly, then go to work. Don’t be late.”
I didn’t have the energy to fight over food.
I ate quickly, put down the bowl, and got up to leave.
Just then, my phone blared its alarm.
7:20 AM.
The time I should have woken up.
Hearing the alarm, the grievance on Grandma’s face vanished, replaced by a relieved satisfaction.
Like she had won the battle.
She stood up, smoothing her clothes.
“Alright, alarm rang. Go to work. Don’t be late.”
She didn’t look at me again, turning slowly to her room and closing the door.
Dad yawned and went back to his room to sleep.
In minutes, the family that had just surrounded and scolded me all went back to sleep.
Only I was left in the living room.
I looked at the empty room, feeling the absurdity.
They had energy to fight me because they could sleep while I worked.
So ironic.
3
Arriving at the office, my colleague Jessica looked surprised.
“Susie, what happened? You look terrible.”
Her voice attracted concerned looks.
I forced a smile, shook my head, but felt bitter inside.
Sitting down, turning on my computer, Mr. Henderson appeared at the door, eyes sharp on me. “Susie, come to my office.”
My heart sank. I followed him.
Inside, Henderson pointed to the chair. Straight to the point.
“Your recent state is very poor. If you can’t balance family and work, I personally think we need to reconsider your promotion. The company doesn’t need an unstable Sales Director.”
My breath hitched. I knew what he meant.
If this contract went through, the promotion was a done deal.
But my state yesterday and today, plus Grandma’s interference…
Henderson was worried.
I clenched my fists.
“Mr. Henderson, I know I messed up. I prepared this proposal for a month, checked every detail. Give me one more chance. I can land this.”
Henderson looked at me, silent for a few seconds, then agreed.
“Go over the details we didn’t finish yesterday.”
I pulled out the documents.
Just as we reached the critical pricing split, my phone rang.
I pulled it out instinctively. Grandma.
I couldn’t fathom why she was calling now.
I muted it, apologizing to Henderson.
He frowned but signaled me to continue.
Two sentences later, it vibrated again. Grandma.
Irritated, I turned the phone off.
But the next second, the burner phone in my pocket rang.
Henderson’s face went dark, disappointment evident.
“Take the call. Handle your personal business before working.”
I bit my lip, answering. Grandma’s frantic voice came through.
“Susie! Why did you take so long? Did you eat lunch? Remember to come home early after work, don’t stay out!”
“Grandma, I’m negotiating an important contract with my boss. Can you stop calling?”
Grandma choked up instantly. Same logic. She cares, I’m ungrateful.
I had no patience for her performance.
Jessica, my competition for this project, had already walked in to brief Henderson.
Henderson nodded frequently, satisfaction visible.
I didn’t know what I was thinking. I hung up.
Soon, Dad texted.
[Grandma cares about you, why hang up on her?]
[Susie, don’t think because you’re grown you can disrespect elders.]
[By the way, end of the month. You got paid right? Transfer the medical fees.]
I looked at the message, lost in thought. Paid?
I looked like I was about to be fired.
Dad loved chewing tobacco. Got oral cancer. Surgery was expensive.
I was the only earner. I didn’t understand why they treated me like this.
I didn’t reply.
Jessica stood before me.
“Susie, do some routine work if you’re not feeling well. Mr. Henderson gave me the project.”
Her eyes held ambition and relief. I forced a smile to congratulate her.
🌟 Continue the story here
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I have a secret crush on my stepbrother, Adrian.
But he is a perfect gentleman, which makes me feel like a twisted, dark pervert.
Then he went on a blind date. The woman was too perfect for him.
I went crazy with jealousy and drugged his drink.
I know Adrian is a responsible man.
After tonight, even if he doesn’t love me, he will have to marry me.
Everything was going smoothly.
However, at the last moment, I regretted it.
I couldn’t bear to hurt him…
Before he woke up, I tried to sneak away.
But suddenly, a hand grabbed my ankle.
“Giving up halfway isn’t a good habit, is it? Little… sister.”
1
At 10:00 PM, Adrian drank the water I poured for him.
At 12:00 AM, I pushed open his bedroom door.
My footsteps on the cashmere carpet were silent.
Adrian was already deep asleep.
I skillfully turned on the night light.
Tracing his eyebrows and eyes with my finger, dipped in the soft light.
He seemed ticklish and frowned slightly.
My finger paused, but I wasn’t afraid.
I’ve drugged him with sleeping pills too many times. I have the dosage down to a science.
He won’t wake up before 6 AM.
Sure enough, his breathing soon became even and long again.
I turned off the light, kicked off my slippers.
Lifted the corner of the quilt and burrowed in.
Adrian habitually sleeps on his back.
I rested my head on his arm, wrapped my arms around his waist, and buried myself deeply in his embrace.
Sometimes I really wish the world was only night.
Then Adrian would belong only to me.
Unfortunately, that’s just a dream.
At 5:00 AM, my smartwatch vibrated.
I woke up almost instantly and turned off the alarm.
The room was still dark.
I carefully got up, touched Adrian’s hair.
Got out of bed and went back to my room.
It was almost dawn.
I wasn’t sleepy anymore, so I went to wash up.
In the mirror, a pale face stared back.
Only then did I realize my lips were swollen and red.
I touched them; there was a distinct stinging pain.
Strange…
I frowned.
Is it allergies? Or did I eat something spicy?
2
It was the end of the year, and classes were wrapping up.
I packed up early and moved back home from the dorms.
Adrian seemed very busy lately, always working overtime.
But he still strictly adhered to the agreement I pestered him into making when we were kids: be home before 10:30 PM every night.
Tonight, I was curled up on the sofa writing a term paper.
The lock clicked, and Adrian walked in.
He had obviously been out drinking; the smell of alcohol drifted off him.
Bending over, changing shoes—all his movements were half a beat slower than usual.
My gaze stuck to him, unable to move away.
Drunk Adrian seemed even more handsome.
While his head was lowered, my eyes greedily traced his high brow bone, the slightly red corners of his eyes, and his moist, flushed lips…
When I was very young, I wrote in an essay that my brother was a “beautiful man.”
Back then, he seriously corrected me, saying “beautiful” describes women.
But I stubbornly believe Adrian is beautiful.
While my thoughts were running wild.
Adrian suddenly stood up and stumbled.
I threw my laptop aside and ran to support him.
Bit by bit, I helped him sit on the sofa.
His shirt was already messy.
Tie loose, hem untucked.
Because of his leaning posture, a section of his waist was exposed—lean and tight.
I involuntarily swallowed.
“Ava.”
Just then, Adrian called me.
“Huh?”
I snapped back to reality.
“Can you get me some hangover medicine?”
“Oh, okay!”
I hurried to rummage through the cabinet.
When I came back, Adrian was asleep.
Probably feeling hot, he had pulled off his tie.
His collar was wide open, unreservedly exposing his chest muscles.
My brain felt like it was boiling, too hot to think.
After a long while, I took out my phone and took a picture.
Adrian suddenly moved.
I jumped and hid my phone.
Guilty as a thief, I called him:
“Adrian?”
“Hmm?”
He opened his eyes, his vision slowly focusing.
He thanked me and took the medicine from my hand.
After taking it, he walked unsteadily into the bathroom to shower.
3
I sat on the sofa, looking at the photo I just took.
Zoom in, zoom out.
Zoom out, zoom in.
My heartbeat was exceptionally loud in the quiet living room.
Suddenly, a loud thud came from the bathroom.
Followed by Adrian’s cry of pain.
I jumped up and rushed over.
“Adrian, what happened?”
I pounded on the door, but there was no answer.
Afraid something happened to him, I turned the knob and barged in.
Adrian was sitting on the floor.
Probably hurt from the fall, his face twisted in pain.
Seeing me enter, he frantically pulled his bathrobe together.
But being drunk, his fingers were stiff and slow; he couldn’t tie the belt for a long time.
“I’m fine.”
I helped him up, pretending to be calm, but my hands were shaking.
After confirming he was really okay, I helped him out and slowly upstairs.
A pleasant scent wafted from him.
I walked diagonally behind him, secretly taking deep breaths.
It was the same body wash, but on him, it was extraordinarily different.
Suddenly, a drop of water fell from his hair tips, landing on my fingertip.
It was cold, but felt like a wildfire.
I froze for several seconds before quietly rubbing it away.
Adrian took hangover medicine tonight, so he shouldn’t take other drugs.
But he fell asleep quickly.
In the dark, I stared at him for a long time before quietly leaving.
4
On the weekend, my best friend Chloe called me out.
She is the only person who knows all my secrets.
As soon as we met, she teased me:
“Oho, our beauty Ava has dark circles? Did you sneak into your brother’s room again in the middle of the night?”
I didn’t speak.
She took my silence as confirmation.
Smiling slyly, she bumped my shoulder.
“Did you do that to him—”
“No.”
Two girls exchanged a look, knowing exactly what the other was thinking.
I denied it too quickly. Chloe tutted and patted my shoulder.
“You are truly amazing. Call you normal, you sneak into a man’s room every night.
“Call you a pervert, but you don’t dare do anything. Drugging him every few days just to sleep next to him.”
I lowered my eyes:
“Doing it would leave marks. With his personality, if he found out, he’d go crazy…
“We wouldn’t even be able to be siblings anymore.”
“True, your brother looks like a proper gentleman.”
Chloe propped her chin.
“You’ve been fostered in his family for so many years, no different from a biological sister.
“If he knew what was in your head, he’d be scared to death.”
“Yeah.”
A heavy sense of loss surged, making my breathing difficult.
Chloe saw it and hugged me.
“Hey! Listen to me, stop liking him.
“Love once to suffer, love ten times and you won’t have time to suffer.”
She finished speaking and leaned in mysteriously.
She said she prepared a gift for me, and I would definitely like it.
Half an hour later, in a KTV private room.
I saw the gift Chloe mentioned.
It was a… male host… who looked 60-70% like my brother…
Chloe pulled him to sit next to me, telling him to chat with me properly.
The man’s hand hovered over my shoulder.
I admit, I was dazed for a few seconds.
But as soon as he opened his mouth, full of flattery, my interest vanished instantly.
Adrian would never use that tone with me.
He is someone who seems gentle and polite, easy to approach, but actually maintains a perfect distance from everyone, like being behind a layer of impenetrable glass.
Even though I’ve lived with him for so long, I can’t guess what he’s thinking.
“Sister?”
Seeing me zone out, the host waved his hand in front of my eyes.
I snapped back, told him to sit further away, and ignore me.
I took out my phone and leaned back to play.
A notification from a location app popped up just then.
I clicked it.
The next second, I was shocked to find that Adrian’s coordinates overlapped with mine.
5
I refreshed several times, confirming it wasn’t a bug, then dashed out the door.
Why is Adrian here?
Shouldn’t he be working overtime?
I strangely walked past one private room door after another.
The distance prompted by the system got closer and closer…
Finally, reduced to 0.
I looked through the crack in the door.
Not only did I see Adrian, but I also saw several men and women his age.
Instrumental music was playing inside; they were chatting and laughing.
I pressed against the crack, pricking up my ears, trying to eavesdrop.
After a while, I realized they were setting Adrian up on a blind date!
My gaze moved slowly, landing on the only woman in the room.
Features bright and beautiful, temperament elegant.
I had to admit, she looked really compatible with Adrian.
My heart tightened suddenly, my hand unconsciously resting on the door handle.
Nail hit metal, making a slight sound.
Adrian looked over curiously.
Glad for my quick reflexes, I squatted down immediately.
Before he came out, I fled back to my room like an escapee.
In the private room, the host peeled several mandarins for me.
But I had no appetite at all.
I stared unblinkingly at the location app.
Half an hour later, Adrian’s coordinates started moving again.
I grabbed my bag and chased after him.
In the lobby, a group of people were saying goodbye.
Adrian personally hailed a cab and put the woman in.
She was blushing.
Reading lips, she seemed to say “See you next time.”
Adrian nodded.
He watched her leave before getting into his own car.
6
When I got home, Adrian was sitting on the sofa reading a book.
As soon as I approached him, I smelled a woman’s perfume.
Nails digging into my palms, I pretended not to know and asked him:
“Bro, where did you go today? Why do you smell like perfume?”
Adrian paused, sniffed his sleeve.
A rare shyness appeared on his face:
“Friends introduced a blind date. We probably sat too close, it rubbed off.”
“You want to get married?”
I stared at him without blinking.
Adrian nodded:
“Yes, at my age, I should consider marriage.”
“Your age? You’re still young!”
I blurted out.
Adrian looked helpless.
After a while, he sighed:
“Ava, my biggest wish before was for you to get into a good university, so I spent all my thoughts on you, ignoring my own affairs.
“But now you’re a junior, I should have my own life too, right?”
“But…”
“But what?”
Adrian looked up at me.
His neck tilted slightly back, stretching into a smooth and fragile arc.
The light flowed over his eyes, jawline… landing on his slightly open collar, collarbone looming.
He really is…
So beautiful.
I felt like I was going crazy.
Or rather, I was already crazy.
I wanted to kiss him, bite him, lock him up so he could never go out, never smile at anyone else.
My heart beat wildly in my chest.
I clenched my fists tightly, constantly adjusting my breathing to keep my emotions from showing.
But Adrian still sensed something strange.
He stood up, approaching me with concern.
“Ava, what’s wrong?”
I quickly lowered my eyes.
After a long while, I managed to speak again:
“But I can’t bear to let you go. If you get married and have your own family, you won’t be close to me anymore.”
“I won’t.”
Adrian rubbed the top of my head.
“You will.”
I insisted.
“Since I started college, you haven’t been as close to me as before.”
“That’s because you grew up. I have to avoid suspicion.”
See.
I closed my eyes.
If the price of growing up is losing him, then I’d rather be a child forever.
My eyes suddenly felt sour.
Adrian rubbed my head again.
“Men and women should marry, it’s normal. Ava will marry someone in the future too.”
I won’t!
I screamed in my heart.
🌟 Continue the story here
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🔍 search for “390898”, and watch the full series ✨!
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At the company’s mid-year gala, my boss offered to set me up on a blind date.
Drunk and emotional, I tearfully admitted I hadn’t moved on from my ex.
My colleagues, hungry for gossip, pressed for details.
The boss sitting at the head of the table looked increasingly uncomfortable.
“This ex of yours… his last name wouldn’t happen to be Sterling, would it?”
1
The executives immediately sobered up, exchanging glances.
I was slumped on the table, enjoying a baby-like slumber.
I completely missed the boss’s question.
The colleagues around me, energized by the gossip, shook me vigorously.
“Don’t sleep, Autumn! Tell us more!”
I lifted my head with difficulty. “Tell you what?”
“Is your ex’s family rich?”
“Extremely, obscenely rich.” I spread my arms wide. “His kitchen… has a whole row of fridges, all filled with premium seafood people gifted him.”
“How did you meet?”
“We were high school classmates.”
I mumbled a response, sitting there trying to recover.
My body found the camera before my eyes did.
I immediately started managing my expression.
Only to realize it was the big boss at the head of the table, Charles Chen, sneakily filming me with his phone.
“Mr. Chen, why are you filming me?”
Charles was handsome, and scandalous rumors about him were plentiful.
Among the group executives, he was the most gossiped about.
He was known as the Second Prince.
He had a Crown Prince older brother above him.
But a year ago, the Crown Prince was transferred, and Charles took over management.
Rank-wise, I shouldn’t be sitting at the same table as him.
But today was the mid-year gala.
And I was one of the top three revenue-generating streamers across all sectors last year.
Sales, interviews, group broadcasts—I hit every target.
To show appreciation, the leadership allowed top-performing employees to sit with them.
Charles pursed his lips and gestured for me to continue.
“Nothing, go on. I want to hear it too.”
“Let’s not talk about relationships… it’s embarrassing.”
I subconsciously dropped a cherry tomato into my wine glass.
Realizing belatedly that I was drinking with clients (or bosses), I fished the fruit out and ate it.
Sour.
Charles hissed.
“Embarrassing?”
He seemed to want to laugh but held it back.
“Is dating that ex of yours embarrassing?”
I shook my head. “Not that he’s embarrassing. I was just a failure back then.”
“That shouldn’t be,” he led the conversation. “If you were a failure, why would he be with you?”
I didn’t say anything.
He winked at the people around him.
Several half-drunk executives immediately got up, saying they were going to mingle at other tables.
Seeing this, my colleagues also slipped away one by one.
Baffled, I decided to leave with them.
Charles quickly looked up, clearing his throat.
“Where are you going? Your performance last year was excellent. Let’s talk about a raise.”
I shivered and scooted back to my seat.
I filled my glass, following muscle memory to give a thank-you speech.
“Thank you for your appreciation, Mr. Chen. Cheers.”
“Sit, sit. Don’t drink.”
He held down my glass.
“Tell me, Sterling… how did your ex’s mom persuade you to break up? Did she scold you or threaten you?”
She didn’t.
She was very kind.
That was when I was a senior in college.
Since confirming my relationship with Ethan Sterling in sophomore year, I would stay at his place for a few days during winter and summer breaks.
His mother showed up suddenly one afternoon.
I was sleeping on the sofa and was startled awake by a knock.
I thought Ethan was back.
Running to open the door, I found a strange woman.
She looked 30% like Ethan.
She saw me and wasn’t surprised.
And she didn’t seem to be looking for Ethan.
I greeted her very slowly, “Hello, Auntie.”
“Autumn, hello.”
She smiled. “Shall we go inside and chat?”
I guessed her intention immediately.
She said her last name was Hoffman, from the Hoffman shipping family in Hong Kong.
Her marriage to Mr. Sterling was an alliance.
Their businesses complemented each other perfectly.
They had been harmoniously married for years, and Ethan was their only son.
Perhaps Mr. Sterling had selfish motives.
But Ethan’s position was secure.
Provided he didn’t mess up.
Provided he didn’t expose a weakness for outsiders to exploit.
“Ethan is capable, and I trust him. He doesn’t really need marriage to secure himself.”
Mrs. Sterling gathered her clutch, changing the subject.
“However, marriage alliances are a way to gather support.”
“If he doesn’t do it, someone else will.”
“If others realize his wife’s family is weak and use marriage to find allies to wrestle with him, that wouldn’t be good.”
With every sentence she spoke, my back stiffened a little more.
Pins and needles.
Let’s get this over with.
I kept my head down.
“Mrs… Mrs. Sterling, what… what do you want me to do?”
She watched me picking at my hands, seemingly with a hint of pity.
“Autumn, I’ve known about you since high school.”
“Back then, Ethan mentioned your name all the time at home.”
“Later, I looked into your school. I know your parents are traditional, you came out of the mountains thanks to poverty alleviation programs, and got into a top university on grades alone.”
“A very difficult path for a girl.”
“You are smart and pretty.”
“But to be our daughter-in-law, you don’t have to be exceptionally excellent, but you can’t have too big of a shortcoming.”
“Originally, I didn’t want to separate you two so quickly.”
“But Ethan is graduating. You’re staying in the country, and he’s unwilling to go abroad.”
“So, Autumn, consider him, and consider yourself.”
She opened her clutch.
And pressed a thin check onto the coffee table.
I quickly wiped my face, daring not look up.
“Okay, okay, I understand. I won’t… won’t see you out, okay?”
Her soft shawl brushed past my fluffy pajamas.
The scent was faint, like sandalwood in a temple.
The sandalwood scent faded.
She closed the door as if she had never been there.
I went to the room to pack.
Only when I started packing did I realize there was so much stuff.
Clothes and socks filled a corner of the walk-in closet.
Jewelry, hair ties, and toiletries Ethan casually bought for me.
Plants I raised, pillows, dolls, ornaments I bought, unused sanitary pads.
It was impossible to fit into the one suitcase I came with.
I stuffed things in and took them out.
Jewelry with no obvious price tag stayed behind.
Toiletries had to be taken.
I definitely wouldn’t bear to buy such expensive ones myself.
Take more pajamas.
That cashmere shawl was a celebrity style, very long.
When we bought it, Ethan laughed that I was small but insisted on acting cool, looking like a manta ray in it.
Take it.
His sound system was the brand I picked, supposedly excellent.
Although I realized after getting it that it was just internet hype.
But I still liked it.
Pity I really couldn’t take that.
What about the plants on the balcony I raised for two years?
Change a place, spend another two years raising them?
I sat by the messy suitcase and suddenly broke down.
Footsteps outside the living room door.
Sounds of footsteps and bags being placed on the table.
“Autumn,” Ethan called from outside. “Shall I cook for you?”
I didn’t answer.
He muttered to himself in confusion.
Probably glimpsed the check on the coffee table, his steps faltered.
The bedroom door opened.
“Who from my family came to see you…”
Ethan’s face was ugly, fingering the thin paper.
I turned to look at him, quickly wiping my face with my sleeve.
“Okay, don’t cry, don’t cry.”
He half-squatted, pulling me into his arms.
“Who came? Tell me.”
His fingertips were a bit cold, his collar chilly.
I rubbed my face against his coat, burying it in his warm sweater.
But his cashmere sweater also smelled of sandalwood.
They are a family.
Was I dragging him down, putting him in a difficult spot?
Panting, I tried to pull away, but he pulled me back.
Fingers threaded through my hair, undeniably pressing the back of my head against his chest.
“Speak. Was it a man or woman? How old?”
He lowered his head, nose against my forehead, breathing with annoyance.
I shook my head.
“I… let’s talk.”
“Talk about what? Autumn, what do you want to talk about? Breaking up?”
His gaze was severe.
“When we got together, didn’t you promise not to give up easily?”
I wanted to say we’re together, but I dared not.
He said he thought clearly when he confessed.
So he hoped I would consider the obstacles we would face in the future before answering him.
I promised him I would be with him properly.
But being young, I always thought obstacles were light.
Only when facing them did I realize one sentence was enough to negate everything.
I retreated.
Would he retreat at some moment too?
“Why don’t we… break up?”
Meeting his gaze, my voice got smaller and smaller.
“I’m afraid you, afraid you will regret it later, feel that I… am a burden…”
“Enough!”
Ethan interrupted me, swallowing hard several times.
I spoke very little in high school.
At first, classmates asked me questions.
I didn’t speak, just wrote down the solution steps for them.
Classmates thought I was pretentious.
The grade called me “the silent, pretentious exam expert.”
Later, teachers called on me to answer questions.
After many times, they realized I had a speech impediment (stutter).
So I got immunity from answering questions.
No one made it difficult for me to speak.
They just occasionally advised me to practice speaking more.
Classes during the day, back to dorms at night, washing up time was tight.
I couldn’t find time to practice, nor was I willing.
Only after getting together with Ethan did I occasionally open my mouth.
He always waited for me to finish.
Even if describing one thing took ten minutes.
He had never interrupted me like this.
I shut my mouth tight.
“Autumn,” he took a deep breath, cupping my face with both hands, “Do you still like me?”
I looked at him and nodded.
“Then don’t mention breaking up. Just consider it for me, practice speaking well. I’ll practice with you at home.”
He used a bit of force. “Hear me?”
I nodded again.
He pulled me into his arms, tightening his embrace.
“Good girl.”
After that day, neither of us mentioned the two million dollar check.
He hired a live-in maid to do housework and dragged me to chat all day.
Sometimes I woke up late at night and heard him on the balcony on the phone.
The tone on the other end probably wasn’t good.
He was silent for a long time, responding in low tones.
Usually the next day he would apologize to me, saying he had to attend high-level meetings and would be away for a few days.
I saw the documents on his desk.
Meeting materials, industry reports, financial statements.
Confidentiality level unknown.
I didn’t dare look closely.
I only knew I was probably really dragging him down.
When he wasn’t there, I practiced with my phone.
Opened a voice chat livestream.
Regardless of whether anyone was there, I forced myself to speak.
Some viewers who entered the room were startled.
University classmates bumped into me in the woods and thought my mental state wasn’t good.
There was even a period where my weird livestream was screenshotted and discussed on forums for a while.
I replied to comments one by one explaining the reason.
Unexpectedly, netizens were very understanding and came specifically to chat with me.
But it was so painful.
The livestream got more popular.
Some encouraged, some mocked.
Some deliberately guided me to read bad comments.
My speech was still stuttering.
After accidentally reading vulgar words and homophones, the livestream room was banned again.
I couldn’t take it anymore.
Why torture myself like this, and drag Ethan down too?
How can chronic symptoms be recovered by short-term training?
I wanted to give up.
But this time I didn’t have the courage to face Ethan.
I left all miscellaneous items, only taking clothes I needed.
At a hotel, I texted him to break up.
That night he returned to the city.
Insisted on talking face to face.
I opened the door and saw a travel-worn Ethan.
Eyes bloodshot, standing stiffly.
Neither spoke.
I couldn’t hold back tears.
Crying and crying.
At the end of crying, I spoke the most fluent sentence.
“Ethan, the pressure is too much, I really can’t go on.”
He pursed his lips tight and asked me.
“Really can’t go on? Can’t we try again?”
I said, “I’m so tired.”
He put the gift bag on the floor, lowering his eyelids.
“If it’s really that painful, then forget it.”
I squatted on the floor, watching him turn his back.
“Ethan!”
He stopped, looked sideways.
I realized then that his eyes were red too.
I said, “Can we still be friends?”
Will we meet again?
He laughed lightly, “Mn. You can find me if you need anything.”
But I understood.
He meant he wouldn’t find me anymore.
Later, indeed, no contact.
It’s been over three years.
If he knew my speech is very, very clear now…
Wonder if he would be happy for me.
Alcohol brings up old memories.
Illusory emotions rush to the head, ignoring reality.
I lay on the table, completely forgetting this was a group mid-year gala.
Sitting opposite was my boss’s boss’s boss.
Charles Chen frowned and patted me.
“Autumn, Autumn, wake up… Ancestor, probably alcohol poisoning? Dammit, Ethan Sterling is gonna chop me.”
I was shaken awake, face tilted from my bent arm.
Exposing one eye to look at him.
“Hm? Mr. Chen?”
Charles breathed a sigh of relief.
Handed a tissue, chin lifted.
“Wipe your face, crying like that.”
“Sorry, drank too much, got emotional. This wine is strong, can’t handle it.”
I forced a smile, realizing belatedly.
“Hey, Mr. Chen, weren’t we talking about a raise?”
He waved his hand.
“Raise, 50% raise. But tomorrow, no, day after tomorrow, you have to come with me to… um, a cross-company exchange meeting.”
“Is my rank high enough to attend with you?”
“Oh, just a simple meal.”
“Oh. No can do, annual leave starts day after tomorrow.”
“Triple overtime pay. It’s a rare networking opportunity, I’m taking you because you’re motivated.”
Charles said with certainty.
I didn’t suspect him, making an OK gesture.
He let out a breath, smiling like a smug fox.
“I’ll have the driver take you back, rest well. I’ll pick you up day after tomorrow.”
2
I slept until 2 PM thanks to the alcohol.
Woke up and sat on the bed thinking for half an hour.
I couldn’t remember exactly what I said at the gala last night.
But I didn’t forget Charles Chen’s mischievous expression at the end.
His reputation with women wasn’t good.
Sending a female star to a cover shoot today.
Dining with a newly debuted girl tomorrow.
Although hadn’t heard of him involved with female employees.
Still scalp-numbing.
Before I could think of an excuse to refuse, a work message popped up.
“Tomorrow’s dinner is a birthday celebration for a buddy of mine, you better bring a gift.”
“Seize the opportunity, maybe someone casually gives an opportunity, and you can pay hundreds of thousands more in taxes.”
“5:30 PM, Secretary Lee will pick you up.”
Your family gathering, I shouldn’t go.
I drank too much yesterday and blabbed, Mr. Chen please bear with me.
There are people with better performance than me in the company, why not give them the chance?
I deleted the refusal.
Cowardly replied “Received.”
After washing up, realized I forgot to ask key info.
Is his buddy old or young, prefers western or traditional style, sexual orientation.
Know nothing.
Searched gifts for leaders on phone, homepage showed shops I bought from before.
Scarf, belt, briefcase.
Prices weren’t high, price range I couldn’t choose now.
But giving those to Ethan, he was always happy.
I was suddenly in a trance.
Not long later is Ethan’s birthday too.
He happened to be born around Lunar New Year.
Every year on his birthday, he celebrated with me first, then rushed home to celebrate again.
Came back the next day with bags big and small.
Gifts from relatives and Sterling family partners.
Some knew he was dating, so gifted popular new season luxury goods to please him.
He picked through them, packing what I could use.
Still had to be coy, wouldn’t give to me easily.
Insisted I circle him for half a day, stuttering anxiously.
Only then would he lift his chin, slowly handing over the suitcase.
I sat on the floor opening gift boxes one by one.
Ethan bent his leg leaning aside, drinking water slowly.
“Anything you like?”
I held up the most satisfactory one to show him.
He recognized it, smiling.
“Got it, talk projects with their family more next year.”
I said, “You, you abuse power for personal gain.”
My birthday is in autumn.
Specific day, unclear.
His gifts piled aside, as if I also had a very good birthday.
In the years apart, I haven’t picked gifts for anyone.
Nor received gifts from anyone.
Screening items matching the other’s temperament, preference, and status from massive options consumes energy.
I emboldened myself to contact Charles.
“Mr. Chen, what does your friend prefer? I’ll prepare accordingly.”
He said, “Anything is fine.”
…
Then anything is fine.
I asked someone to buy a tea cake, just said expensive.
Sending tea can’t be wrong.
Shop owner said the tea cake grade I wanted wasn’t low, the only one in the store happened to be reserved.
Other stock needed time to transfer.
Luckily delivered before the dinner.
I picked a semi-formal commuter suit, carrying the gift box out.
3
Charles and his secretary were already waiting downstairs.
I got in the car, instinctively wanted to say hello, didn’t see anyone.
Secretary Lee glanced at me.
“Looking for Mr. Chen? We’re picking him up now.”
“Oh, okay.” I paused, “Secretary Lee, do you accompany Mr. Chen to these dinners?”
“Mr. Chen doesn’t drink much, no need for company. I wait in the car.”
“Then do you know who Mr. Chen is meeting this time?”
“Not clear on this one.”
He slowed down, stopping by the roadside.
Charles just walked out of a tea shop.
The packaging bag in his hand looked very familiar.
My back sweated, looking down at the gift box beside me.
No way, such a coincidence?
Charles opened the door, putting the stuff beside him casually.
I peeked through the rearview mirror.
Headache worsening.
Identical gift, how to give?
Eyes met.
Charles reported a location, then asked me.
“Autumn, brought the gift?”
I turned back, slowly lifting the gift box for him to see.
He almost choked laughing.
“Young people drink this tea?”
“But you bought it too.”
“I’m taking this to give to his dad casually! You’re a bit tactless, only focused on picking expensive ones right?”
“…Mr. Chen, men’s gifts, get too personal and it crosses the line.”
Cufflinks, ties, belts, watches, all intimate items.
Truly versatile are tobacco, alcohol, tea.
Turning the intersection, the car stopped by a Chinese courtyard.
I carried the gift following Charles.
In the restaurant private room, several people were chatting.
Turned to glimpse us, greeting and pulling chairs.
I locked eyes with one person, both stunned for seconds.
Zack, seeing me enter with Charles one after another, eyes wide.
I nodded at him, heart skipped a beat.
Running into a high school alum here?
I wasn’t close with Zack.
Met a few times, all because of Ethan.
Noise all around.
“Early, Prince Chen, not late this time?”
“Hm? Brought a sister too?”
“Changed taste? Remember the last one wasn’t this style.”
“We gather once, only you bring a girl.”
“Seriously, restrain your playing. If we had your scandals, our legs would be broken.”
Charles scoffed.
“Sick? Go treat it. This is my employee. Autumn, put your gift on that table.”
Gifts on the table were open.
Jade raw stones, jewelry, riding crops, watches.
Two identical tea cakes placed there, incredibly abrupt.
Teasing that just calmed down returned.
“Why give the same thing?”
“Wearing couple outfits, giving couple gifts?”
“Zack, usually you talk the most, why silent now?”
Zack looked indescribable, squeezed out words after a while.
“This… I dare not say.”
I sat in the corner smiling bitterly.
This kind of occasion, can’t pass without a few teases.
Footsteps approached steadily from the corridor.
People around suddenly started touching things quickly.
The second the door opened, confetti exploded.
“Congrats Prince Sterling on getting another year older!”
I applauded with everyone, suddenly sitting up straight.
Who?
Named Sterling?
Confetti fell.
The person at the door dusted confetti off his shoulder, half helpless half silent.
“How many times you gonna play this trick?”
Across years, voice no longer familiar.
Shedding some clarity, adding steadiness.
My back stiffened, face steaming.
Ethan stood by the door hands in pockets, face slowly cooling.
Silence for a moment.
People at the table confused, looking at each other.
“Prince Sterling come sit.”
Waiter waited aside, waiting to take his coat.
I lowered my head, actively avoiding gaze.
Zack coughed a few times, smoothing things over.
“Sit first Ethan, talk later.”
After a while, he pulled a chair and sat.
Drank a glass of warm water, eyelids lowered looking at Charles.
“Not introducing?”
Charles patted my chair back.
“Autumn, my company’s most capable streamer, whatever she pushes goes viral. Brought her to meet people, you guys look after her if there’s business.”
I stood up and smiled at the right time, bowing slightly.
“Whoa, who’s worth you bringing personally for face?”
“Should we call her sister-in-law?”
Zack held back, “Stop asking, stop asking.”
Charles cleared his throat.
“Just have fun with me, don’t drag innocent people in, is this really my girlfriend?”
“So she’s here.” Ethan didn’t lift his head, “Thought I’d be drinking Prince Chen’s wedding wine soon.”
I stared at the cup in front of me, playing background.
Two or three at the table responded.
“Sorry girl, I’ll punish myself a cup.”
“Charles Chen you too, not discussing business, why bring an employee?”
“Right, haven’t toasted the birthday boy yet. Come come come drink one.”
“Fortune as wide as the East Sea, life as long as the South Mountain ha.”
“Stealing my lines?”
Ethan refused no one, drinking toasts one by one.
I listened to laughter, feeling unreal.
Brain buzzing, dizziness like just waking up.
His birthday, isn’t it in New Year?
Everyone toasted, only I was silent.
Charles kicked my chair leg lightly.
I snapped back from silence, holding wine glass standing up.
“I’m clumsy with words, wish President Sterling success in career, good health.”
Ethan leaned back in the chair, raising hand for someone to pass the bottle.
Drank half glass in front of him, refilled.
He raised glass casually, toasting me, drinking it all.
Charles half joking.
“Cup after cup, haven’t seen your capacity this big usually, don’t drink too much.”
He pressed his brow, tone indifferent.
“Can talk if you can speak.”
Atmosphere weird, someone threw the topic to me.
“How many years has Miss Autumn done new media?”
“Two years.”
“Results so good in just two years.” That person slightly surprised, “Solid foundation?”
I smiled, “What foundation, back then I had a speech impediment. Later graduated and did sales for a year, forcing speech fluent.”
Zack stunned, “Sales with your degree?”
People looked sideways.
“Zack, you know her?”
“Met a few times before.” Zack explained, looking at me, “Why not find an easier job?”
I mocked myself.
“Who wants an employee who can’t speak fluently?”
Every year prestigious graduates are countless, companies can choose the best.
Motivated, strong ability, energetic.
Willing to learn, self-reflecting, good image and temperament.
Introversion became a big flaw.
Poor communication skills, couldn’t pass round one.
Used to circle a safe zone with Ethan.
Always felt he wouldn’t ignore me.
With him, it would be fine.
Since someone covers the bottom, why work hard?
I escaped every day.
After all, doing one thing might encounter many difficulties.
But doing nothing, the only difficulty is making up your mind.
Until after breakup I started facing my own issues.
Can’t speak fluently, waiting to starve without finding work.
Fall recruitment, spring recruitment, thesis, graduation destination confirmation, urging employment.
I practiced retelling news broadcasts every day, gave up fall recruitment.
Spring recruitment failed again.
Soon finished thesis and graduated.
Then became a member of the unemployed army.
At a dead end, I found the gift Ethan gave me on breakup day.
Wanted to sell it, exchange for some buffer living expenses.
Opened to find a rare leather bag in the box.
And a two million dollar check.
The one his mom gave was torn long ago.
In the gift box was a new one, signed in his name.
He still left me a way out.
I sat in the cramped rental, suddenly lost control of emotions.
Everything ended.
From the moment I decided to use this money, it was parting ways, never seeing again.
With that money, I didn’t worry about livelihood.
So found a sales job.
Rejected in interview.
I stopped HR, said I didn’t want base salary.
Just give me a platform to open my mouth.
Successfully stayed.
Every morning and evening, company required employees to read work goals aloud, excited like chicken blood.
Those looking not wild enough would be nitpicked for attitude.
I let go, called out and scolded many times.
After morning reading, back to desk making harassment calls.
Hung up directly when lucky.
Cursed parents when unlucky.
Every time cursed by clients on the other side, I sincerely said thank you.
Other side confused, I took opportunity to sell insurance.
Then cursed idiot again, hung up.
When lucky, could cover rent with sales.
No one mocked my stuttering anymore.
I switched jobs, started as assistant streamer.
Promoted to streamer on face, stricter work requirements, often scolded by audience and supervisor.
Secretly cried at first.
But when I earned 50k a month for the first time, didn’t feel scolding anymore.
I love work.
I want money to fill the spent savings.
Like making up two million makes me owe Ethan nothing.
Work is busy.
Rarely have time to think of him.
I miss him very much.
Ethan focused on food.
I watched him secretly.
Picking key nodes, stating past few years truthfully.
Not far away, someone handed a business card.
“My friend’s designer brand doing promotion recently. If Miss Autumn is interested, can contact her to discuss cooperation.”
I quickly took the card.
New jewelry brand in the industry.
Invited promotion ambassadors usually famous rich wives and ladies.
Normally I couldn’t take this private job.
Charles raised a brow, “Take it if they flatter you, doesn’t count as private work.”
I put palms together bowing, whispering.
“Thank you boss.”
Turning face, met Ethan’s gaze.
He lowered eyes looking at phone, stood up leaving table.
“I’ll make a call, you continue.”
Birthday boy left, atmosphere relaxed immediately.
I stopped participating, eating silently.
Charles turned to me.
“Open another table for you next door, call Secretary Lee to send you back after eating.”
“No need, Mr. Chen eat slowly, I’ll go back myself.”
I took bag to leave.
Just out the door, uproar in the private room.
Zack jumped up pouncing on Charles.
Grabbing collar, exasperated.
“Good one Charles Chen, I kindly told you stories, you brought the protagonist to stir shit right?”
“Autumn can’t forget him, isn’t it good for them to meet? Maybe Ethan still likes her, just reunite.”
“Does he look like he’s still interested?”
Charles laughed loudly.
“Zack you haven’t dated don’t bark. I say they are guaranteed to get back together, believe it?”
Several unrecognizable voices mixed together.
“No… what are you saying?”
“What do you mean still like? That was Prince Sterling’s ex?”
“Brain damage crashing ex bureau, bro stumbled onto guillotine. Whoever joked about her apologize quickly.”
“I see no feelings left.”
“That’s best.”
Conversations faded, turning to toasting.
🌟 Continue the story here
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Violet is the daughter of my father’s first love.
After her parents died, my father took her in, homeless and alone.
I vowed to make her life miserable.
Until I realized my hypocritical father was looking at her with increasingly strange eyes every day.
1
Violet looks a lot like her mother.
I’ve seen her mother’s photo, hidden in the lining of my dad’s wallet.
When I was eight, my mom cheated with her personal trainer. After a huge fight with my dad, she pulled out his wallet, threw that photo in his face, and said:
“Don’t judge me. You’ve always had someone else in your heart. We’re even.”
Later, when they were physically fighting, I picked up the photo and glanced at it.
Those fox-like eyes, brimming with a smile, seemed to come alive from the photo.
The memory was so vivid that the moment I saw Violet, I knew whose daughter she was.
It was an ordinary afternoon. I came home from school and saw Violet sitting properly on the sofa in our living room, wearing a white dress.
I didn’t actually see her face at first, only Richard sitting eagerly opposite her, holding a bowl of washed strawberries and asking with a flattering smile: “Violet, do you like strawberries?”
My parents had been divorced for three years by then. The reason, of course, had nothing to do with Violet’s mom.
My mom ran off with her trainer, and Richard fooled around outside. Every woman wanted to be my stepmother. So before seeing Violet’s face, I thought she was just another mistress my dad brought home.
I slammed the door shut with a dark face. Violet, sitting on the sofa, looked up at me.
That was when I realized she was just a girl about my age.
Twelve-year-old Violet’s eyes were exactly like her mother’s. A pointed chin and a pair of fox eyes that, although not fully matured, already showed hints of soul-hooking charm.
Unlike her mother who was always smiling, she had a cold aura that kept people away.
Richard looked at me awkwardly, stood up, and said: “Aria, this is… this is Violet. From now on, we are family. Get along well, okay?”
My response was a cold sneer at Violet, then looking at Richard, I said rudely: “Are you addicted to picking up trash? Bringing any stray cat or dog home.”
Richard’s face darkened, scolding me: “Watch your mouth!”
I turned my gaze to Violet. She sat on the sofa with her head down, her jet-black hair falling like a waterfall covering half her face, her shoulders thin and frail.
As if she hadn’t heard my insults at all.
I scoffed and slammed the door as I left.
2
Violet’s father died early, and her mother committed suicide by charcoal burning, leaving her an orphan.
My dad took her in.
My dad is a businessman, a profiteer. The sentence he taught me most often was: “Aria, never suffer a loss, understand?”
Taking in Violet out of kindness wasn’t because he was good-hearted, but because Violet’s mother was his first love.
Every successful middle-aged man, no matter how polished by society, always keeps a clean spot in his heart for the “white moonlight” of his youth.
A dead white moonlight is even more powerful because that moon will hang high in the sky forever, never setting.
So he took care of his first love’s daughter even more attentively than his own.
He spent a lot of effort transferring Violet to my school. My school is the top private school in the state, with strict requirements for transfer students, including entrance exams and past academic rankings.
I graded her entrance exam because I was the favorite disciple of the “Demon Queen” of the honors class, like Zhou Zhiruo to Miejue Shitai.
I saw Violet’s answers. She messed up even the simplest equations.
Looking at the red crosses all over the paper and the miserable score of “35,” I thought, she really is like her mother, a brainless vase.
However, she still got in smoothly. It’s not hard to imagine how much money Richard spent on her. The day before she transferred, Richard ordered me: “Aria, tomorrow is Violet’s first day. Take good care of her, understand?”
I looked up at Violet standing silently behind him and sneered: “With your care, she’ll be fine. Is there anything money can’t solve?”
After saying that, I left because I had a mental arithmetic competition with a classmate.
3
I rarely interacted with Violet. I didn’t like her, but there was no need to target her. To me, she was like a parasite in the house, an eyesore but insignificant.
Richard asked me to take care of her. I sneered internally. Not bullying her was already my generosity.
Not long after Violet settled in, Richard returned to his old ways, never home day or night. Socializing, business, mistresses. To him, daughters just need to be alive, not cared for.
So for a long time, only Violet and I were home.
Probably knowing I didn’t like her, Violet was very sensible. She was like a ghost in this house, appearing only when necessary.
The balance was broken because I got a fever.
That day I came back from a hike with friends. I probably didn’t dress warmly enough and caught a chill. My throat was itchy when I got back at night, and I couldn’t help coughing.
Violet looked at me quietly then.
Later, I went to my room to rest.
In the middle of the night, I started running a fever. I knew I was feverish in my groggy sleep, but I thought I could tough it out. By the second half of the night, it was unbearable. I wanted to get out of bed to drink some hot water.
As soon as I got out of bed, my legs went soft. Thud. I fell to the floor, hitting my head on the nightstand with a loud noise.
I couldn’t get up for a long time.
The soundproofing in the house is actually quite good, but in my daze, I heard knocking.
Three polite knocks, followed by Violet’s cold inquiry: “Aria, are you okay?”
I passed out.
When I woke up, I was in my room.
My hand was hooked up to an IV. Violet must have called a private doctor. She was sitting by my bed on the sofa, staring blankly at my IV bottle, lost in thought.
I saw the curve of her long eyelashes from the side, curled and thick. Her profile was also very beautiful. I stared at her for a long time until she snapped back to reality and noticed my gaze.
She paused, then explained softly: “You had a fever of 104 last night. I heard a fall and was worried, so I came in without your permission.”
This was the first sentence she said to me after entering this house.
I’m not ungrateful. If she hadn’t meddled, I’d either be a corpse or brain-damaged today.
I said thank you with a hoarse voice.
She looked at me and suddenly smiled fleetingly for some reason.
I realized my voice sounded like a dying duck.
Maybe thinking I didn’t like her in my room, she quickly and quietly left.
We used to have a nanny, but she quit to take care of her grandson.
I have a cold personality, mature for my age, and don’t like strangers walking in and out of the house. Building new relationships takes a lot of time, so I told Richard I didn’t need a nanny.
He didn’t hire a new one for me.
While on the IV, I thought I might need to hire an hourly worker just in case.
But when I went out after the IV was done, I dismissed that idea.
Violet had already gone to school. On the dining table was thick porridge she made and refreshing side dishes, along with a note she left:
[I’ve already asked for leave for you. Drink the porridge while it’s hot, and take the medicine on the table on time.]
I held that note, shifting my gaze from the porridge to the medicine beside it, pausing while pouring warm water into the glass.
4
My cold healed quickly.
I’m not a child craving fatherly love, nor am I jealous that Richard spends much more time and energy caring for Violet than me.
So I owed Violet a favor. We maintained a delicate balance of peace.
I once wondered if Violet was trying to please me, but except for that night, she never tried to curry favor or brought up that incident.
She remained cold and quiet, living in this house like a ghost.
Until I found out she was being sexually harassed.
She was in the same grade as me. Her class was full of rich kids who paid to get in. Naturally, they weren’t easy to get along with.
Poor grades, poor character. So it was called the “Parasite Class.”
I met Violet in the school’s volleyball equipment room. A boy had cornered her, hands wandering.
I stood at the door watching. The boy’s hand was reaching for Violet’s face. She stood there coldly. If not for the disgust in her eyes and her tightly furrowed brows, I would have thought she was in a relationship.
I threw the volleyball in my hand over and said: “Hey.”
The boy was annoyed at the interruption. His furious face quickly dissipated when he turned and saw me, becoming intrigued.
He said: “Aria? A top-tier student like you meddling in other people’s business?”
He knew me. Well, there are plenty of people in school who know me but whom I don’t know.
I ignored his playfulness, coldly extending my index finger: “I’ll count to three. Get lost.”
“1, 2—”
As soon as “2” dropped, the boy made a surrender gesture, backing away repeatedly: “Okay, okay, I’m going.”
After he left, I got angry at Violet.
The angrier I am, the calmer my tone. I looked at Violet, who was quietly watching me, and said calmly: “Are you a pig? Can’t refuse or fight back when harassed?”
She stood there in her uniform.
I had never seen anyone wear a uniform so beautifully. Like a scene from a K-drama I once glimpsed, where a character in a red sweater looked down from a balcony.
I will always remember the stunning feeling of that glance.
Violet didn’t look like that star, but the temperament was identical.
She pointed to the ceiling at my question and said: “There’s a surveillance camera here. I was planning to take the footage to the Dean.” She paused, adding, “Fighting back… would cause trouble for you… for your family.”
I didn’t speak, turned and left.
5
I only found out not long after that Violet was being bullied.
She took the harassment video to the teacher. The boy’s parents were called. Losing face and having some money, he became angry and started targeting Violet.
There were also girls in her class.
The campus back then wasn’t like now, where pretty girls were called “queen.”
Beauty was an original sin in school. Jealousy, suspicion, rumors, malicious scrutiny. All kinds of gazes and bad intentions fell on the beauty, wanting to drag her into the mud.
So they could righteously say to others: “I told you she was a slut, and you didn’t believe me.”
That day Violet came back an hour later than usual. I was making instant noodles—ever since Violet arrived, she did the cooking. Her cooking was excellent, making simple stir-fries look and taste amazing, which was one reason I tolerated her.
Hearing the door open, I looked up from the steam of the noodles and saw Violet with hair messy as a bird’s nest.
She stood at the door with that messy hair, a bright slap mark on her face, and bruises and blood clots on her exposed skin.
From these injuries, one could imagine how badly she was beaten.
I frowned slightly. Her expression remained cold. Her gaze fell on the noodle cup in my hand, not mentioning her injuries at all. Pausing, she spoke in her usual tone as if nothing happened: “Instant noodles aren’t healthy. I’ll make you some noodles.”
I didn’t speak.
I don’t know if I ever said this, but what I liked most was Violet’s hair.
I put down the fork, looking her up and down. Luckily her clothes were intact.
I looked at her with a very, very calm face. I even felt myself smile. I asked her calmly: “Who did it?”
When I was very young, before my parents divorced, my mom took me to get manicures with her friends. She once complained about me with a look of disdain:
“This girl, I don’t know who she takes after. So young but always holding her breath, silent, not like a kid at all…”
“Like a wolf. Her territorial instinct is incredibly strong. Once I accidentally threw away one of her figures, she stared at me coldly without a word. Scared me to death…”
I do have a strong territorial instinct. Things I mark as mine are in my protected zone. Whether I like or dislike the object, anyone else touching it is offending me.
Violet lives in my house, so she is mine.
And I hate being offended the most.
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I once co-starred in a BL drama with Caleb Vance.
That year, we were both rookies, and thanks to that show, we became overnight sensations.
With bright futures ahead of us, neither of us could break character. Even after filming wrapped, we were still drawn together by the emotions from the script.
So, we had a brief, secret romance.
The reason it was brief was that while the show was airing and at its peak popularity, Caleb said to me: “Perry, I’m out of character now.”
When we met again, Caleb was a top-tier A-list celebrity.
And I was a has-been who had quit the industry years ago, trying to make a comeback.
1
Meeting Caleb Vance again happened at a small gathering five years later.
It was the birthday of Sue, the director who cast us in our first drama. I was invited to her birthday party.
Five years had changed a lot.
Sue had a few too many drinks and came over to sit in the corner with me.
“Perry, if you hadn’t sent me ‘Happy Birthday’ and ‘Happy New Year’ texts every year, I would have thought something happened to you.”
I smiled. “Thanks for caring, Sue. I’ve actually been doing okay.”
Sue’s eyes revealed complex emotions. “It’s such a pity. If you had seized the opportunity back then…”
Before she could finish, the door to the private room was pushed open, and a tall figure walked in.
I looked up, and my gaze froze.
The room was dim, but that face needed no introduction.
Caleb Vance. The top A-list star.
With hit dramas airing for five consecutive years, his value was self-evident.
He was the darling of every major platform.
At the same time, he was my co-star in my debut drama.
And my ex.
Even if only for a little over a month.
Five years ago, both he and I were rookie actors who took on Director Sue’s project.
It was our first work. From the table read to the wrap party, it took less than six months.
At that time, our acting wasn’t natural enough, and the director wasn’t satisfied. So, we practiced privately, starting from reading lines to practicing kiss scenes.
When the show aired, the intense chemistry the audience saw in the kiss scenes was something Caleb and I had practiced.
However, after filming wrapped, the withdrawal set in.
I couldn’t adapt to the abrupt end of intimacy and the return to our original positions.
Many times, I dreamed of returning to the set, remembering Caleb’s face and the words he said.
The way his peach blossom eyes looked at me.
And his kisses.
Some feelings sprouted uncontrollably off-camera and grew wildly. For the first time, I tasted the bitterness of love.
The drama aired quickly, and Caleb and I met again as the leads.
Preparing for promotion.
At the cast dinner that night, we both drank.
I deliberately kept my distance, burying the feelings I shouldn’t have had.
That night, many crew members got drunk, so we booked rooms in the hotel next door.
My room was next to Caleb’s.
Walking side by side to our doors, I maintained my rationality and said goodbye to him.
The door opened. I was about to walk in.
Suddenly, a force came from behind, pushing me into the room.
Immediately after, the person behind me stepped in and closed the door.
Before I could react, I saw Caleb, who had been silent all night, pinning me against the door.
Just like in the drama, he grabbed my waist and neck, lowering his voice to ask: “Perry, can I kiss you?”
2
He asked, but he didn’t intend to seek my permission.
As soon as the words fell, the kiss surged forward.
Shock flashed in my eyes, and I instinctively tried to push him away.
But the man was built strong; I couldn’t push him away.
And the muscle memory from the past few months made the kiss seem natural.
I wrapped my arms around his neck.
The withdrawal of the past month had been too hard to bear. This kiss seemed vengeful, igniting a fire while filling the emptiness in my chest.
I was thrown onto the hotel bed by Caleb. He pressed down, and the kiss changed flavor.
It was then I realized that I wasn’t the only one who hadn’t moved on.
I am two years older than Caleb. That night, he whispered “Perry” in my ear many times.
But without the camera, Caleb was much more reckless.
Like a puppy, he bit people, leaving licking kisses on my body, telling me with a hoarse voice:
“I wanted to do this to you on set.”
My heart tightened, completely occupied by the aggression in his eyes.
Caleb and I became official.
That year, the BL genre exploded.
For newcomers like Caleb and me, it was undoubtedly an overnight success.
During the broadcast, he and I met almost every day for videos, livestreams, and various events.
Our popularity skyrocketed at an alarming rate, albeit very flimsy.
Scripts came one after another, but not all were good scripts or roles.
For Caleb and me, focusing on promotion and fan service was important at the moment.
The ambiguous marketing shown in front of the camera was nothing compared to us in private.
Caleb wasn’t as gentle as he looked.
Overwhelming fame is always intoxicating. At that time, I imagined a future with Caleb, but I didn’t have time to think further.
As the drama neared its end, I clearly felt Caleb drifting away.
He replied to my messages less frequently and stopped initiating conversations.
Until the last joint event. After it ended, I wanted to talk to him.
But Caleb spoke first.
He said: “Perry, I’m out of character now.”
I froze.
The intimacy of that period turned into the phrase “out of character.”
Caleb said: “It wouldn’t be good for either of us if this got out. Let’s just… pretend it never happened.”
He detached quickly, took on the next script, and joined the new cast.
I couldn’t pester him. First, I couldn’t bring myself to stalk him; second, I didn’t want to ruin him.
At least he was honest and decisive.
My withdrawal was even more painful.
Unlike what Caleb envisioned, I didn’t continue in the entertainment industry.
Too many things happened that year, and I quit.
For the next five years, I didn’t appear again.
Netizens went from initial regret to forgetting me.
In contrast, Caleb’s popularity rose steadily. A crime drama two years ago catapulted him to top-tier status.
Slowly, the work that gave us our start became a past he couldn’t mention.
The face in my memory overlapped with the person in front of me.
Caleb was right there.
“Sue, Happy Birthday.”
Sue smiled, the corners of her mouth rising in a nice arc.
“Hey, Mr. Vance graced us with his presence to bless me. Of course I’m happy.”
“Aren’t you still filming?”
When Caleb walked over, he had already greeted everyone along the way. Now he chuckled lightly: “Just wrapped up, rushed over immediately.”
Sue looked at him, then at me: “Caleb, remember him? This is Perry.”
So Caleb’s gaze finally slowly fell on my face.
Those peach blossom eyes that usually charmed everyone weren’t very warm right now. They held a depth I didn’t understand, and the smile on his face faded.
Probably didn’t want to see me.
“I remember,” his tone was flat. “Long time no see, Mr. Perry.”
Mr. Perry.
Before, he called me Perry, or bro.
Before I could say anything, I heard him ask: “Is Mr. Perry planning a comeback?”
3
When Caleb asked this, I was actually a bit surprised.
In my view, we parted ways five years ago.
His current status isn’t something I can touch. To him, I’m just an irrelevant person.
“Caleb, how did you know?” Sue smiled. “Perry is different from before. He’s funding himself to be a director. He’s handling the script and casting personally.”
This was actually why I contacted Sue.
Times have changed.
The subjects she films now are very different from the past. Even if I wanted to audition for her, it wouldn’t be easy.
I thought I had no connections in the circle, and having quit for years, I was basically a nobody.
“This kid, if he didn’t want to find a few suitable actors, he probably wouldn’t have contacted me.”
I laughed: “Sue, if you say that, I’ll be embarrassed to ask for your help in the future.”
Sue has a hearty personality. She patted my shoulder:
“Perry, the market is different now. I’m not sure if your money will go down the drain, but if there’s anything I can help with, just ask.”
Caleb was pulled by her to sit down.
Not long after, people in the private room came over one after another to toast him and Sue.
To my surprise, Caleb drank every glass.
I remember before, he didn’t really like drinking.
When we socialized together, I always found ways to block drinks for him.
Of course, now I don’t have that standing, nor that intention.
The party ended. Sue was drunk and was helped away by her assistant.
Others slowly dispersed too.
I was about to call a car when a figure walked out from behind me, voice devoid of emotion: “Where do you live now? I’ll drive you back.”
The familiar yet strange voice made me pause.
“No need, Mr. Vance,” I looked back calmly at the man in front of me. “I won’t take up your time.”
He was already wearing a mask, and the exposed eyes held no emotion.
“It won’t take up time,” a black car slowly stopped by the road. Caleb said, “Besides, we can catch up.”
Actually, I didn’t know what there was to catch up on between him and me.
When he proposed breaking up back then, he was eager to clear ties with me.
Thinking of this, I suddenly looked into his eyes with a flash of insight.
In those eyes that once mesmerized me, the color was calm.
“Mr. Vance, don’t worry. No one else will know about what happened before. Let’s just pretend it never happened,” I said.
I intended to give him peace of mind.
It’s been five years. I’m not that petty.
He walked fast and climbed high in these five years, but he walked it step by step.
I couldn’t do anything to ruin his career.
For the sake of that initial palpitation, I also hope he does well.
4
Unexpectedly, after hearing my words, Caleb’s eyes grew colder.
The phone showed the driver was over a hundred meters away, but the man beside me suddenly walked past me silently and got straight into the car.
I couldn’t read his emotions.
Probably relieved, so he couldn’t be bothered to pretend with me.
My car arrived.
That night, I rarely dreamed of Caleb again.
20-year-old Caleb.
Young, at an age not yet savvy about the ways of the world.
Not professionally trained, said to be scouted. Just started acting, knew nothing.
I was only slightly better than him, guiding him bit by bit.
My brief romance with him wasn’t actually that unforgettable.
It just ended abruptly, making it hard to forget.
The images in the dream were like a revolving lantern, without logic.
The intense kiss scenes on set and the reckless kisses in private became nightmare-like existences.
As the saying goes, one shouldn’t meet someone too amazing when young.
Waking up, back to reality.
I sat up holding my heavy head, washed up simply, packed my luggage, and went to Hollywood.
Contacting Sue was actually almost six months ago.
Later, my crew was assembled, suitable actors selected, and filming is currently underway.
Yesterday was Sue’s birthday, and I specially went to congratulate her.
Budget insufficient, all expenses must be calculated carefully.
The emotional fluctuation brought by seeing Caleb again after five years quickly returned to calm after returning to the set.
During my absence, the crew’s progress didn’t lag.
This is still a BL story.
My partner is a newcomer who debuted two years ago, named Leo. Good looks, lacking a real opportunity to shine.
Coincidentally, he is also 20 years old.
Just like Caleb back then.
Sue introduced him to me. This young man didn’t really want to take this kind of role.
He refused at first. I felt it was a pity, rare to find a suitable candidate.
Later Sue persuaded him, and he agreed.
I asked her how she persuaded him.
The famous Director Sue laughed: “I said Caleb Vance became an instant hit after working with you. You bring luck to your partners. So he agreed.”
“…”
“Perry, you’re back?” Leo walked over grinning.
This kid was shy when he first arrived, but now he gets along well with everyone on the crew.
“How was shooting yesterday?” I asked him.
“Sister Lulu made me shoot the monologue a dozen times. I’m really scared of her,” Leo put his arm around my shoulder like a buddy. “Perry is better.”
I habitually comforted him: “Lulu just wants to capture the perfect shot. Cooperate with her more.”
“Got it, bro. Do we need to rehearse tonight’s scene?” he suddenly asked.
Tonight’s scene.
I suddenly remembered, tonight we are shooting my first kiss scene with him.
To be an actor, to film a love story, kiss scenes and bed scenes are inevitable.
I chuckled: “Sure.”
Although it’s a kiss scene, it’s all filmed in front of the camera. It doesn’t matter where we rehearse.
I kissed Caleb in front of the camera for months back then; I’m long immune.
When guiding Leo, I could even calmly suggest which angle he should kiss from, how he should breathe, and how his eyes and movements should tease.
The young, energetic lad’s ears turned red.
Like this kind of green young man, actually the most fun.
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Once we became close, my “work bestie” started showing a subtle malice toward me.
I bought a new coat, and she blurted out that I looked like a wild boar, then immediately covered her mouth, claiming it was just a joke.
Passing by the clearance section at the grocery store, she grabbed me and said, “This stuff isn’t fresh. Lily, stop being so cheap.”
I hadn’t even planned to buy anything. Before I could retort, she was already giggling about something else.
But overall, she treated me well. We had a good relationship.
Yet, I was constantly drained.
I asked my boyfriend for help. He smiled, “It’s fine, isn’t it? I feel like you’re being too sensitive.”
“Babe, you look so cute when you’re worried! Give me a kiss!”
I went to my mom. She frowned, “I told you people in the city are bad. If you can’t handle it, just come back home with me and your dad.”
Why did my boyfriend and mom also have this subtle malice?
Out of options, I met Senior Sister, a mentor figure. She smiled calmly, “All relationships are power dynamics.”
She looked me up and down kindly, “And you radiate an aura of being easily bullied. Of course, they’ll inadvertently suppress you.”
I panicked, “Really? What should I do?”
Senior Sister smiled confidently, “There’s still hope. Do as I say…”
1
On Monday, I wore the black long down jacket that Sarah said made me look like a wild boar.
After clocking in, I marched straight to the Finance Department.
Seeing me enter, Sarah scanned me, frowning.
“Wearing that again?”
“Lily, don’t blame me for being straight, but don’t wear this next time. It really doesn’t look good.”
Even though I was prepared, her words still stung.
Last time I wore it was right when the temperature dropped. I had just bought this long black down jacket I’d been eyeing for a while. It cost nearly $300.
After Sarah’s comment, I never wore it again.
【Don’t self-doubt, don’t avoid, don’t get angry. The best defense is offense!】
I tried to smile casually, reciting Script #2 proficiently.
“What do you know, you fashion disaster? Black long down jackets are versatile for layering, and simple and warm otherwise.”
From my first sentence, the corners of Sarah’s mouth remained slightly raised, but her eyes held no smile.
Relief and anxiety surged in my heart simultaneously.
I quickly grabbed the power bank on the table, trying to keep my tone light.
“Borrowed my power bank, yet I have to come get it myself. Sarah, are you actually a dog?”
People nearby laughed good-naturedly.
Sarah’s fake smile was faltering.
“Lily…”
“Gotta go, gotta go, back to the grind. Bye!”
Not giving her a chance to perform, I waved my hand as if escaping and rushed out the door.
Clicking on the recording, I thought my counterattack was confident and flamboyant, but in reality, I lacked confidence, and my voice trembled.
The only merit was that it was relatively smooth.
Changing into my work clothes, I started working.
Sarah and I belong to the same company. She’s an accountant in the Finance Department, and I’m an R&D specialist in the R&D Department.
We have lunch together every day at noon.
She just lost to me, so she will definitely try to regain ground at lunch.
I waited nervously.
2
“Hi, Lily…” Sarah waved at me as if nothing happened.
As soon as I approached, she and the Accounting Supervisor, Ms. Lee, huddled together laughing, but their teasing eyes frequently fell on me.
They were talking about me!
My steps stiffened involuntarily.
When I got in front of them, they finally stopped laughing.
Sarah poked Ms. Lee, trying to cover it up.
“Anyway, can’t laugh anymore, or Lily will get angry.”
Saying this, she glanced at me, as if I was about to explode.
“Okay, okay, no laughing, no talking. Let’s eat!” Ms. Lee waved her hand and led the way to the cafeteria.
Arm in arm, the two discussed enthusiastically what dishes to choose later.
A nameless fire blocked my throat, leaving me speechless.
I quickened my pace to catch up with them.
I wanted to ask: What were you saying just now? What were you laughing at? Why label me as someone who gets angry easily?
But the topic had already shifted. Dwelling on a small matter would make me seem petty.
If I spoke up, I would jump into their trap of “Lily is very petty” and “Lily gets angry easily.”
I followed them with a cold face to get food.
Just as I picked up my soup, Sarah suddenly turned back to look at me seriously.
“Lily, why the long face? You’re not angry, are you?”
Before I could react, she apologized immediately.
“Sorry, it’s my fault for making you unhappy.”
Ms. Lee, two steps ahead, looked back, and colleagues behind also looked over curiously.
A familiar irritability swept over me.
Saying “it’s okay” meant swallowing the grievance and getting a reputation for having an attitude.
I couldn’t argue with her about what happened just now either; it would show I cared and was calculating.
In my dilemma, I suddenly remembered Senior Sister’s words.
【When you really have no moves, expose her malice directly! Ask her back!】
【There aren’t that many purely evil people in this world. Many people are also panicked inside when testing your boundaries.】
Taking a hidden breath, I replied calmly:
“Why would I be angry? Did you do something terrible?”
“Suddenly turning back to apologize to me, it’s baffling.”
A second ago, the hidden triumph in Sarah’s eyes was blinding, but hearing my words, she froze. Her eyes widened slightly, leaving only sheer astonishment. Even her mouth opened slightly subconsciously.
She was surprised by my counterattack!
She was really nervous!
All her ease was built on the premise of my obedient cooperation!
My heart pounded with excitement. Sarah wasn’t invincible!
Holding my tray, I walked past her and left.
Meeting Ms. Lee’s gaze, I smiled naturally.
“Sarah is so weird today. Laughing one minute, then suddenly apologizing to me.”
“I’ll head back to the R&D side first. I have data to verify urgently.”
3
My heart was still thumping lightly from the victory just now.
I focused on my food, eating seriously, occasionally joining the chat of colleagues next to me.
I ignored the few joyless glances Sarah cast my way.
When Senior Sister pointed out I was in a low-status position in relationships, I was terrified.
My instinct was to escape.
Senior Sister hit the nail on the head.
“Every relationship is a game. You can’t escape it.”
“Relationships, simply put, are of four types—mutually charging, tug-of-war, business partnership, or… purely toxic. Except for toxic relationships, others can be adjusted. Which one are you and Sarah?”
I thought about it. Like a tug-of-war.
I was always retreating, she was always advancing.
“If one day you pull her over, do you still want to be good friends with her?”
I froze, thought seriously, and shook my head.
Senior Sister stroked her chin.
“Then use her for practice. Social skills need practice!”
“While practicing, think about what kind of relationships you have with your boyfriend and mom?”
After eating enough, I messaged her to report the victory.
She replied instantly: 【Well done! I said you were sharp and smart!】
I smiled shyly. The next message followed closely.
【People used to you giving in will take your retreat as their due. When you wake up and resist, they will be furious! Feel betrayed! Will counterattack fiercely! Are you ready?】
I put down my phone and took a deep breath.
Come on, I’m not afraid.
I will take back the territory I tacitly gave away, piece by piece!
4
Sarah didn’t contact me for days.
Her daily Instagram grid posts were unshakable: boba tea, hot pot, escape rooms… laughing without a shadow.
The protagonists were all our mutual friends.
When I saw them, I silently liked them and scrolled past.
Even when Ms. Lee quietly probed, I played dumb and glossed over it.
Until Friday.
A group photo smashed into my vision: In the center of the crowd, the beaming old accountant Mr. Wang held flowers.
HR, Finance, Admin, Production… even a few key members of our R&D department who had received his care were surrounding him.
The caption read: 【Farewell to a workplace mentor, grateful for 30 years of dedication! The company will always have your legend!】
My blood rushed to my head with a boom.
This was Mr. Wang’s retirement farewell party!
Mr. Wang was famous for being a nice guy. He was always cheerful when anyone went for reimbursement.
When I joined, he even taught me the rules for pasting invoices.
But I didn’t know about this farewell party.
In our traditional chemical industrial enterprise with slow personnel turnover and intricate relationships, such informal social occasions are often key for information exchange and emotional lubrication.
You can, of course, streamline your social life, but being excluded from a consistent circle sends a devastating signal: either your popularity is extremely poor, so poor that the organizers think you are unworthy of coming; or you are indifferent to people and have no respect for seniors.
I couldn’t even ask “Why didn’t you invite me?”
Questioning would only fall into Sarah’s trap and get me labeled with more hats.
And Sarah in the photo stood beside Mr. Wang. Her smile was warm, tears glistening in her eyes.
Exiting the photo, more photos from other angles refreshed.
Everyone liked and commented on each other’s posts, especially queuing up under Mr. Wang’s post.
I opened the chat box with Senior Sister for urgent help.
Senior Sister’s reply was fast.
【Emotions can’t solve problems. Act immediately. Send a private message to Mr. Wang.】
I froze for a moment, then immediately followed up:
【Say Sarah played dirty tricks, and I didn’t know about the farewell party at all? Then wish Mr. Wang well?】
【No! Say you regret not being able to make it due to something coming up.】 Senior Sister’s sentences were analytical.
【Directly saying ‘colleague played dirty tricks’ sounds like a child tattling. It confirms you have bad popularity and are a victim. You must seize the initiative in your own hands immediately!】
I stared at those words, my fingers slightly cold.
Thanking Senior Sister, I opened Mr. Wang’s WeChat. Typed and deleted, finally leaving only the simplest sentences:
【Mr. Wang, seeing the photos of your retirement today, I realized you are officially starting your retirement life. I deeply regret not being able to see you off in person.
I still remember when I first joined…】
Checked three times. No typos, tone sincere and brisk.
Added two playful emojis, took a deep breath, and clicked send.
Putting the phone aside, I anxiously waited for Mr. Wang’s reply.
Suddenly the phone vibrated twice.
I clicked nervously.
It was my boyfriend.
5
【Babe, the weather is nice this weekend. How about we go camping and barbecue in the mountains? You’ve been moody lately, time to recharge!】
I subconsciously refused: 【Can’t this weekend, I have an appointment with Senior Sister.】
Feeling too rigid, I explained: 【It’s about work, asking Senior Sister for advice~】
Boyfriend replied instantly: 【Okay okay okay, my babe is a busy person now!】
【But seriously, you look really cute when you frown and think seriously. When you’re done, I’ll reward you properly!】
A nameless fire surged instantly.
After Senior Sister’s nurturing, I can already identify this kind of control: infantalizing and sexualizing the partner, with zero respect.
Reasoning with him and demanding respect is useless. Everything is “cute”!
Taking a deep breath, I replied:
【Not as petite and cute as you!】
【I’m going to get busy. Be good yourself, ‘little’ cutie.】
Blocked him right after sending.
Wait until I finish my business and master the ultimate martial arts, then I’ll deal with you!
Just then, Mr. Wang’s message came too. Decent and gentle, attached with two rose emojis.
Chatted a few sentences, quit while I was ahead.
6
Spent the weekend in hot springs with Senior Sister, carefree.
Returned to work fully recharged.
Same work clothes, same colleagues, but the atmosphere felt a bit off.
Little Liu couldn’t hold it in and leaned in close to me.
“Lily, did you meet some awesome headhunter? Our unit has such good benefits, yet you’re jumping ship directly!”
“But really, you didn’t even go to Mr. Wang’s farewell party. You should have at least pretended!”
My heart skipped a beat. I asked hurriedly:
“How did I not know I was jumping ship? Tell me, who did you hear it from?”
Little Liu’s face changed, stammering for a long time.
“Just… people in Production were saying it too.”
I lost my temper instantly. The news had spread everywhere.
Rumors are tricky. Making a big fuss to investigate might not find the source I want.
Instead, I’d get a reputation for making a mountain out of a molehill. Leaders would think I lack perspective and look for trouble.
The atmosphere in the following regular meeting was also bad.
Just as it was my turn to report project progress, Chen from the next project spoke up sarcastically.
“Let the boss go first. The Great Miss Zhou looks down on our small temple. The capitalists outside pay more!”
The meeting room instantly fell silent. Everyone’s eyes fell on me in unison.
I suppressed the fire in my heart, tone calm.
“Work is work, don’t bring personal emotions. Recently I’ve been communicating with peers and Senior Sister, and participated in some online exchanges, causing misunderstandings. I can say clearly, even if you leave, I won’t. Engineer Zhang knows this best.”
Engineer Zhang, sitting at the head, swept his gaze over Chen, then landed back on my face.
Chen lowered his head.
Engineer Zhang finally spoke.
“Since when did the R&D department become a vegetable market for spreading rumors?”
“Little Zhou, report!”
My palms sweated slightly. I knew I passed Engineer Zhang’s test.
I’ve been working on catalyst formula optimization, often consulting Engineer Zhang on ideas and new technologies, just haven’t had results yet.
No one in R&D will gossip anymore.
I pressed the clicker. Experimental data, comparison curves, optimization hypotheses…
My voice was steady, even clearer than usual.
Engineer Zhang nodded.
“Very good. The idea is feasible. Continue.”
🌟 Continue the story here
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