Author: Momo Chan

The charity student my fiancé was sponsoring had her eyes on the prize: him. The girl slammed her Columbia University acceptance letter and a box of ultra-thin condoms onto Julian’s desk simultaneously. She looked shy but acted bold. “You said if I got into the Ivy League, you’d grant me a wish… I only want you.” I was standing outside the door, trembling with rage. I was about to burst in and slap the entitlement out of her. Suddenly, floating text scrolled across my vision. [Let the side character slap her. It just makes the Male Lead feel sorry for the Heroine.] [The Male Lead is already planning to give the Heroine a title. One slap from the fiancée, and he’ll break the engagement for sure.] [Wait for the angry fiancée to storm off, then the Male Lead will lift the crying Heroine onto the desk… hehe… possessive daddy vibes. One box won’t be enough.] It hit me. I was just a cannon fodder side character in a CEO romance novel. I paused for two seconds. Then, I thoughtfully closed the door for them, opened the interior surveillance app on my phone, and hit Record. 1 Through the crack in the heavy oak doors of the CEO’s office, I could see everything. The girl was wearing a pleated skirt and a hoodie, her hair tied up in a high ponytail. She looked fresh-faced and innocent. The way she slapped that acceptance letter down screamed youthful arrogance. “Julian, you promised me a reward.” “You…” Julian leaned forward, tapping her forehead playfully. “The letter just arrived and you’re already here to collect? Do you think I’d shortchange you?” Mia put her hands on her hips, a mix of cunning and nervousness in her eyes. “I’m just afraid you can’t afford what I want.” Julian slowly rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt. Behind his gold-rimmed glasses, his eyes held the arrogance of a man on top of the world. “Mia, don’t underestimate my bank account. If you asked for the stars, I’d find a way to buy them.” “I want you!” Mia suddenly pulled out a small box. She spoke fast, terrified he’d say no. “Before finals, you said you’d buy me a condo or a car. I don’t care about those. From the beginning, the only thing I’ve wanted is you.” I clutched the doorframe, my heels wobbling. I knew the student Julian sponsored had a crush on him, but I didn’t expect her to be this brazen. Inside, Julian stared at the box labeled “Ultra Thin.” His gaze darkened. “…You know I have a fiancée, right?” I let out a small breath. Julian and I had been childhood sweethearts. We clawed our way up from rock bottom together. When we got engaged last year, this usually reserved man professed his love to the media. He never took off his engagement ring. He knew boundaries. “So what?” Mia pouted, unconvinced. “You aren’t married yet. I still have a chance.” Julian said coolly, “Vanessa and I plan to get our marriage license by the end of the year.” “I can be your mistress,” Mia blurted out. Her eyes turned red, tears welling up until her voice cracked. “Julian, don’t bully me just because I love you… it’s too cruel.” My blood boiled. I’ve seen plenty of ungrateful people, but someone actively trying to wreck a home while taking the homeowner’s money? She was a first. I cracked my knuckles, ready to go in there and teach her a lesson in reality. But the air in front of me shimmered with comments again. [Just let the fiancée hit her. See if the Male Lead’s heart breaks for her.] [Lol, the only reason the Male Lead brought up the fiancée was to test the Heroine’s feelings. The fiancée actually thinks he cares about her.] [The Male Lead is looking for an excuse. One slap, and the engagement is toast.] What? Julian would leave me for a charity case? You have to be joking. But then I saw it. My fiancé, the man I trusted with my life, picked up the box of condoms and chuckled. “Do you even know how to use these? And you’re trying to tempt me?” Before Mia could answer, his large hand grabbed the back of her neck, and he kissed her. 2 My scalp tingled as if it had been electrified. If the comments were real, barging in now would be suicide. So, I quietly pulled the door shut. I opened the surveillance app connected to the CEO’s office and hit record. They kissed for nearly ten minutes. When Mia finally collapsed against Julian’s chest, gasping for air, I adjusted the heavy thermos in my hand and turned the doorknob. “What are you two doing?” “V-Vanessa…” Mia whimpered, pushing Julian away and clumsily stuffing the small box into her pocket. “I’m so sorry, it’s all my fault, don’t blame Julian…” Panic flashed across Julian’s face before he smoothed it over, buttoning his slightly rumpled shirt. “Why are you here?” The comments scrolled by: [I thought the side character finally grew a brain when she turned to leave, but nope.] [Hahaha, I can already picture the Male Lead impatiently telling her to get out.] [Once the fiancée gets kicked out, he’s going to lift the crying Heroine onto the desk… Hehe… one box is definitely not enough!] I was calm. Dangerously calm. Julian was soft-hearted to those who played nice, but ruthless to enemies. He held the majority of the company shares. If we broke up now, I’d get nothing. So, I pulled the lunchbox from behind my back. “You always forget to eat when you’re working. I spent all morning making this. Two dishes and a soup. Try it.” I smiled warmly, as if I hadn’t seen a thing. Julian grabbed my hand. “…Did you burn yourself?” He blew gently on my fingers, his tone reproachful but affectionate. “We have a chef at home. This isn’t something the heiress of the Lin family should be doing. Just tell the staff what you want.” “Oh, stop,” I cooed, softening my voice. “The chef’s food doesn’t taste like love. You must be starving. Eat.” I was the youngest grandchild in my family, spoiled rotten by my grandfather. I was raised to be proud and direct. Julian used to call me his “Little Princess.” When I acted spoiled, he usually couldn’t resist. He coughed lightly and turned to Mia. “You should head back. I’m going to eat with Vanessa.” Mia blinked her wet, doe-like eyes. “When will you have time for me? For the graduation gala, I want to wear the dress you picked out.” Julian’s eyes darted around. He explained to me unnaturally, “The kid did well on her SATs. Since she’s the first student our group publicly sponsored, I thought we should celebrate.” Mia’s eyes curved into crescents. “Vanessa, you have to come too. You and Julian are the two people I’m most grateful to in this world.” She was baiting me. I took her hand and patted it, my smile flawless. “Time flies. Mia, you’re such a pretty young lady now. Remember eight years ago in that remote village? Your mom was trying to sell you to a thirty-year-old bachelor. Julian said you were so dark and skinny he couldn’t even tell you were a girl.” “I insisted on saving you,” I continued. “I said you had a fire in your eyes. Look at you now. Prophecy fulfilled.” “…” Feeling I’d performed enough, I made a graceful exit. As soon as I left the office, Mia grabbed Julian’s tie and kissed him messily. “That old woman is gone. Why won’t you look at me? …An engagement isn’t a marriage. Let me compete with her fairly, okay?” She touched him somewhere, making him groan. “Mia, don’t move.” Mia’s face was flushed. “You don’t have any desire for her, do you? I saw you using my panties to relieve yourself that night.” “Admit it, Julian. You want me. Otherwise… why are you reacting like this?” 3 Julian was clearly turned on, but he pushed her away and left the room, dropping one sentence behind him. “Vanessa is your benefactor. Like she said, without her, you wouldn’t be here today. Before she finds out about your feelings… let’s stop this.” I stopped listening. I contacted a contractor. While Julian was out, I quietly installed several more hidden cameras around his private office. Over the next few days, I watched Mia relentlessly throw herself at Julian. They staged scenes of tender romance and reluctant partings daily. I didn’t even show up, yet I was the villain tearing them apart. The comments were roasting me: [What is the side character doing? She ruined the uniform play scene I was waiting for! (Crying emoji)] [The older man’s restraint vs. the younger girl’s seduction… this book would be so spicy without the fiancée.] [Don’t worry, the Heroine won’t give up on seducing Daddy. Tonight’s gala is the perfect chance.] The text hurt my eyes. It made my years of trust in Julian look like a joke. I pulled myself together and called my stylist. The gala was at a five-star hotel downtown. All of Julian’s business partners were invited. I knew exactly what this was—he was paving the way for his “little girl” before she even started college. I arrived late and saw Mia holding Julian’s arm, schmoozing with CEOs. Someone winked at Julian. “Smart, pretty, and younger than the Mrs. You’re a lucky man, Julian.” “You misunderstand,” Mia said, glancing at Julian with a mix of resentment and affection. “I think of him as an uncle. We have a purely…” “Sponsor and student relationship,” Julian finished smoothly, though I saw his hand pinch her waist behind her back. “Oh, Vanessa is here!” Mia was wearing a platinum mermaid dress, her hair pinned up elegantly. You couldn’t see a trace of the poverty she came from. She asked a waiter for three glasses of champagne and handed me the one on the far left. “I wouldn’t be here without you and Julian. A toast to you both.” I didn’t take it. Because the comments said: [To stop the fiancée from ruining the mood, the clever Heroine spiked her drink with sleeping pills. Once she passes out, they’ll lock her in a room!] [The scene where Vanessa wakes up weak in a closet, listening to the girl’s moans next door, imagining her fiancé railing Mia… I can’t wait!] “It was your own hard work.” I smiled perfunctorily. Under Mia’s panicked gaze, I snatched the glass on the right—the one meant for Julian—and downed it in one gulp. [OMG she grabbed the Male Lead’s drink! That one has drugs too!] Dammit! Why didn’t you say that sooner? [High-grade aphrodisiacs. In the original book, the Male Lead took one sip and went for three hours straight… The fiancée drank the whole thing!] I choked, coughing violently. Julian patted my back. “Slow down. What’s the rush?” I grabbed his arm tight. “The wine… there’s something in it.” Julian glanced at Mia’s pale face and chuckled. “You’re probably just tipsy. I’ll have the driver take you home.” I realized instantly: Julian was covering for her. “If you don’t give me an explanation, I’m calling the police right now.” I held up my phone, tears of anger and betrayal in my eyes. “A blood test will prove it.” 4 “Vanessa, don’t be mad. Those two glasses were… to help spice things up for you two.” “Oh?” I sneered. “So you drugged me for my own good?” Mia twisted her fingers together, finally cooking up a lie. “I heard people in the company saying Julian hasn’t been home in days. I was worried about your relationship, so I thought…” Julian hadn’t been home because he claimed he was busy. But the surveillance showed Mia with him from dawn to dusk. “Mia meant well. Go to the hospital and get your stomach pumped. Let’s drop it,” Julian said coolly. “These are important guests. Don’t make a scene.” It was absurd. “I’m the one who was drugged, and you’re forgiving her on my behalf?” Behind his gold-rimmed glasses, Julian frowned. “She’s just a kid. You’re a grown woman. Why are you holding a grudge against a child?” I literally watched you stick your tongue down that “child’s” throat. Mia shrank behind Julian, giving me a look of pure provocation. I took a deep breath. I blinked, squeezing out a tear. “But I feel so sick, Hubby. Come with me to the hospital?” The comments said the Heroine planned to bag the Male Lead tonight. I wasn’t going to let that happen. “With a drug like this, I don’t trust anyone else. I need you.” Julian hesitated, his expression softening. “Alright…” Suddenly, Mia grabbed the middle glass and downed it. “Now I’ve drunk it too.” “Vanessa, I’m punishing myself the same way. Is that enough?” Of course not. She drank the one safe glass—or maybe the one with the sleeping pill? But then, Mia collapsed into Julian’s arms like she had no bones. “Julian… the effects… I feel so hot…” “Idiot! Why did you drink it if you knew!” Julian scolded her, his voice low, but his hand firmly grasped her lower back. “Her reaction is severe. I need to take her to get treated.” In front of everyone, my suit-wearing fiancé scooped Mia up in his arms and walked away without looking back. The comments mocked me: [One is barely 18, one is pushing 28. Any idiot knows who to pick.] [The fiancée failed to block them. Look, her face is green lol.] [I wonder how the Male Lead will “treat” her. Hard to guess. (Wink)] [Do you believe they went to a hospital, or do you believe I’m the Queen of England?]

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When my boyfriend snapped yet another unflattering photo of me, I couldn’t stop the tears from welling up. Damien looked at me with pure annoyance. “That’s just what you look like, Zoe. Did you expect me to edit you into a supermodel or something?” Without waiting for a response, he turned and walked away. This time, I didn’t chase after him to apologize. Instead, I pulled out my phone and typed a breakup text. Suddenly, rows of floating text—like a livestream chat—scrolled across my vision. [Nooo, baby girl, don’t break up! The Male Lead actually loves you so much! He takes bad photos because he’s afraid of your beauty! He’s scared someone else will steal you away!] [Exactly! His parents divorced when he was young, he has zero sense of security. Just tolerate him a little longer, sis!] [The Male Lead isn’t actually impatient! He uses coldness to hide his insecurity. He’s literally buying you boba right now, just waiting for you to come beg for forgiveness.] My nose stung. I stared at the screen for a moment. Then, I hit Send. 1 The second the “Delivered” receipt popped up, the floating chat exploded. [AHHHH! Zoe, what are you doing?! The Male Lead just wants you to care about him! How could you dump him?] [My poor baby boy Damien is so tragic. No one loved him growing up, and he thought he finally found true love… I can’t imagine how broken he is right now.] [Stop, I’m crying. His face just went pale. He’s shaking. He just dropped the boba tea on the sidewalk. This is heartbreaking.] [This Female Lead has zero empathy. I’m dropping this story.] I gripped my phone tighter. My heart felt heavy, but mostly, I was exhausted. The Chat claimed Damien loved me. But for the past three years, I hadn’t felt a shred of it. Damien was a brilliant photographer. Whether it was landscapes or portraits, he captured the soul of his subjects. Except for me. With me, he only captured distortions. Double chins, awkward blinks, unflattering angles. Then he’d show these disasters to his frat brothers and classmates, laughing as he critiqued me: “Zoe is just average looking. Mid body, mid face.” He didn’t care about my embarrassment. He didn’t care about the pitying looks people threw my way. But the photos he took of his “junior mentee,” Lexie? They were stunning. He even won first place in a campus photography contest with a portrait of her. I’d seen him shoot with her. He gave her endless emotional support, guiding her patiently. “Lexie, smile a bit. Yes, just like that. You’re glowing.” “Hold that pose. Perfect.” “This shot is absolutely insane.” But with me? It was always cold hostility. “If you think I take bad photos, go find someone else.” “You can’t make a silk purse out of a sow’s ear, Zoe.” But… I wasn’t hideous. My roommates called me a bombshell. Freshman year, guys asked for my Snap constantly. I couldn’t understand why, in Damien’s mouth, I was worthless. I endured it for three years. Now, I was done. I was done paying the bill for his “insecurity.” I remembered reading somewhere: If you can’t feel the love, then it isn’t love. So, I was done compromising. Back in my dorm, my phone buzzed. A reply from Damien. Just two words. [Fine. Done.] Even through the screen, I could picture his sneer. But strangely, I let out a massive sigh of relief. As I went to wash my face, the Chat appeared again. [The Male Lead doesn’t want to break up! He’s just saying that out of anger! He has too much pride to beg, Zoe, don’t believe him!] [Our boy is so good, honestly. He saw the text and hasn’t eaten dinner. He’s hiding under his duvet crying right now.] [Just apologize to him, Zoe! He’s so deep, you don’t get it.] [I’m sick of this FL. The Male Lead thought she was his redemption, but she’s pushing him into the abyss. Can we swap the MC?] [Selfish. Just selfish.] I grabbed a basin of water and splashed it violently toward the floating text. After glitching a few times, the annoying comments finally vanished. 2 It took several deep breaths to calm down. Undeniably, Damien had a rough childhood. But why did that mean I had to sacrifice my dignity to fix him? I wasn’t an NPC in someone else’s redemption arc. I had my own life. If they wanted a doormat for a heroine, they could find someone else. After washing up, I realized Damien’s laptop was still on my desk. My MacBook had crashed a few days ago, and I needed his to finish my thesis. Now that the paper was done, I didn’t want any lingering ties. I hesitated, then texted him: [When can I drop off your laptop?] A bright red exclamation mark appeared next to the message. Message Not Delivered. He blocked me. I stared at the screen for a few seconds, then tossed the phone aside. I was numb to it. This was his pattern. Every argument ended with him blocking me on everything, initiating a cold war until I crawled back, apologizing profusely. Only then would he “reluctantly” forgive me. [Zoe! He only blocked you because he’s hurt! He’s waiting for you to come find him in person to make up!] [I don’t get this FL’s logic.] [Exactly. She dumped him, of course he blocked her. If she doesn’t run to him now, she’s gonna regret it when he actually moves on.] I ignored the twisted logic of the Chat, pulled the covers over my head, and went to sleep. The next morning, I had one class. While picking an outfit, my eyes drifted to a sage green slip dress tucked in the corner of my closet. My mom bought it for my 21st birthday. I’d worn it exactly once. On my birthday, Damien saw me in it and exploded. He threw the bouquet he brought onto the pavement. My cake didn’t survive either. His brows furrowed in disgust. “Zoe, you look hideous in that.” “It doesn’t suit you. You look like you work a street corner. Change it, or we’re breaking up.” He walked away, leaving me standing there while bystanders snickered. I wanted to disappear. Since then, I only wore oversized tees and jeans. I learned he hated me in anything pretty. But I was twenty-one. This was my prime. I grabbed the dress. I put it on, did my hair, and applied light makeup. My roommates hype-man energy was off the charts. “Zoe! That dress was made for you! The curves are curving!” “Respectfully, I am looking. Slay, queen.” “Finally! You’re dressing up again. It was a crime to hide that face.” I smiled, thanking them. Walking to class, heads turned. I saw genuine appreciation in people’s eyes. See? I wasn’t as awful as Damien said. 3 After class, we were heading to the dining hall when my roommate nudged me, grinning. “Dressed to kill for a date, huh? Look, lover boy is waiting at the door.” I looked. Damien was leaning against the wall. But he didn’t look happy. He looked impatient, constantly checking the classroom door. The Chat started cheering. [Zoe! He came to you! This is him giving you an out! Grab this chance!] [It’s so hard for him to swallow his pride. Be nice to him, Zoe.] [He loves you so much! He barely slept and didn’t even eat breakfast just to catch you here.] I ignored the floating text, clutching the laptop bag tighter. I walked toward him. When he saw me, his pupils constricted. Before I could speak, he sneered. “Zoe, you look like a hooker. Again.” My body went rigid. It felt like someone had stuffed cotton down my throat. Students walking by paused, whispering and staring. Before I could react, Damien barked an order. “Go change.” The Chat nodded in agreement. [Why is she so stubborn? She knows he hates revealing clothes. She asked for this.] [He just wants to protect her modesty. He’s giving her a chance.] [Damien’s mouth is harsh, but his heart is in the right place. Just go change, sis.] I was about to snap when an arm draped over my shoulder. My roommates had my back. “Damien,” one of them scoffed. “It’s 2025. Maybe cut the misogyny?” “You know a lot about hookers, huh? Speaking from experience?” “Yeah, what’s wrong with a slip dress? If I had Zoe’s body, I’d walk around naked. Mind your own business.” Damien’s face turned a violent shade of red. [Wow, Zoe’s friends are toxic. Why isn’t she defending him?] [This FL is so selfish.] [Poor Damien. He came here with so much courage and just gets humiliated.] I looked away from the delulu comments. I didn’t say a word to him. I just pulled the laptop out of my bag and shoved it into his chest. Suddenly, a petite figure popped out from behind him. Lexie hooked her arm through Damien’s, smiling up at him. “You got the laptop? Yay! Damien, you promised to shoot my new portfolio!” She turned to me, a smug smirk on her lips. “Zoe, mind if I borrow your boyfriend? We just have such good chemistry.” Before I could speak, Damien ruffled her hair, his voice dripping with honey. “We don’t need Zoe’s permission.” “She’s nobody.” 4 He grabbed Lexie’s hand and walked away without looking back. I stood there, watching their retreating figures. “Zoe, are you okay?” my roommate asked gently. I snapped back to reality and smiled. “I’m fine. Thanks for back there.” But as I walked away, I realized my cheeks were wet. I was sad. Not because I wanted him back, but because I had poured three years of love into a black hole. Every word he ever said was a blade designed to hurt me. I was too tired to love him anymore. Friday afternoon. No classes. I was scrolling through Instagram in bed when Lexie’s post popped up on my feed. It was an artistic nine-grid photo set. Every shot was perfect. Lighting, composition, angles—flawless. The center photo was of her and Damien. He was holding her tight, heads bowed together. From the angle, it looked like they were kissing. The comments were full of praise. [“Lexie, hard launch? You guys look so good!”] [“Power couple vibes!”] [“Congrats! Finally got the guy you wanted!”] [“True love wins!”] I exited the app blankly. I pressed a hand to my chest. It didn’t hurt that much. Now that we were over, whatever he did was none of my business. But the Chat rolled in like a fog. [Zoe, don’t believe it! Lexie begged for that photo! The Male Lead has zero feelings for her!] [It’s forced perspective! They didn’t kiss!] [He was distracted the whole time thinking about you, Zoe.] [He only let her post this to make you jealous because you were so cruel to him.] [If I were him, I’d be mad too.] [He’s just a sad puppy waiting for you to come get him.] Right. Every time we fought, he’d get flirtatious with Lexie to punish me. Whether it was real or fake, I didn’t care. Love shouldn’t look like this. I had never used another person to hurt him. After that day, I avoided Damien. The Chat kept giving me updates I didn’t want. Damien and Lexie went to the beach. Damien is walking near your dorm, afraid to knock. I took detours. I avoided him like the plague. Unfortunately, I couldn’t avoid the dining hall. I ran into them near the salad bar. Lexie was clinging to his arm, laughing loudly with a group of friends. “You guys are perfect together!” “Damien is so cold to everyone else but buys you lunch? Simp behavior!” “I ship it so hard!” I turned to leave, but Lexie spotted me. She walked over, eyes wide and innocent. “Zoe! I owe you an apology. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

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When I was hemorrhaging during childbirth, dying on the table, he didn’t care. He was at Disneyland, celebrating his ex-girlfriend’s birthday. In that moment, I finally understood. Love that you have to beg for is destined to fade. Reborn, I smiled and agreed: “I’m bored too. Let’s break up!” 1 Hearing those words come out of my mouth, Julian froze. He thought he misheard. I was usually explosive. I’d catch fire at the slightest spark. How had I suddenly become so tame? He dropped the joking tone and looked at me seriously. “Chloe, do you know what I just said?” I kept the breezy smile on my face. “I know. Didn’t you say I should find someone else?” In my past life, if he said anything I didn’t like, I’d scratch him like a cat until he apologized. But this time, I chose to set him free. And free myself. Julian frowned. “Chloe, what’s wrong with you today?” Crash. Before he could finish, the sound of shattering glass came from the next table. A figure in a white dress ran out the door, sobbing. Heads turned. My brother, Zach, nudged Julian with his elbow. “Isn’t that the girl who dumped you? Sophie? You invited her?” “It’s New Year’s Eve. Breaking glass is bad luck. Did you say something to her?” Julian’s brow furrowed deeper. He stood up abruptly, ignoring me, and chased after her. The room buzzed. The crying faded into the distance, replaced by the hushed tones of a couple reconciling. I kept eating my appetizer, unbothered. Usually, with every course, I’d peel shrimp for Julian or refill his drink. He took so many work calls; I acted more like his assistant than his girlfriend. Zach noticed my lack of movement. “Whoa, no special service for Julian tonight? You treat him better than you treat your own brother.” “I swear,” Zach teased, leaning in, “sometimes I think you have a crush on him.” In the past, I would have panicked. Julian would have immediately ruffled my hair and called me his “little sister” to kill the suspicion. He didn’t want to leave any trace of our love. But I loved him so much, I was willing to hide in the dark. Tonight, I just kept eating. “Why don’t you go check on him?” Zach pressed. “He might run off with another girl.” My fork paused. “If he runs off, that’s his business.” “I’m just his ‘little sister.’ Why should I disturb him?” Zach stared at me, trying to read my face. Today was Julian’s birthday. We were supposed to announce our relationship. But he invited Sophie instead. Ten minutes later, Julian and Sophie returned. Sophie’s eyes were red. She looked tragic and delicate. Julian was holding her hand, whispering things that made her nod meekly. Zach let out a low whistle. “Julian! Sophie! Are you guys back together?” Julian’s head snapped toward me. I saw a flash of panic in his eyes. “Don’t talk nonsense. We’re old classmates. I’m just making sure she’s okay.” Zach grinned, shameless as ever. “I’m an old classmate too. Care about me?” Julian shoved him. “Get off me.” Seeing Sophie act like a wounded bird, I pulled Zach away. “Zach, stop bothering them. Let them have their moment.” I smiled brightly at Julian. “Right, Julian?” Julian froze at the formal use of his name. He looked at me with a complicated expression but didn’t say anything. He walked Sophie out. As soon as they left, the table exploded with gossip. “I knew it. First loves never die.” “Dude, Sophie gave him her kidney back in the day. He spent months by her bedside. You don’t just get over that bond.” “Since she’s back in the states, they’re definitely endgame.” My chest ached, a dull pain. Their fates were tied by flesh and blood. I was just the fool who kept his bed warm in the dark. In my past life, after we married, everything changed. He wouldn’t touch me. We slept in separate rooms. We even used separate utensils. When his parents pressured him for a baby, he finally touched me. That night, he demanded the lights be off. He kept his eyes closed the whole time, like he was enduring torture. The next day, he stayed overnight at Sophie’s. One winter, I got the flu. I was paralyzed in bed, weak and feverish. I asked him to drive me to the hospital. He said he was busy with work and hung up impatiently. Turns out, he was at the nail salon with Sophie. The staff praised them for being such a loving couple. When I went into labor, I was bleeding out on the floor. I called him, crying. He finally snapped: “It’s just having a baby! You aren’t dying. Why are you crying?” “Take an Uber to the hospital. I’m busy. Bye.” He hung up. When I called back, his phone was off. But Sophie posted on Instagram. Eight photos of Julian at Disneyland, celebrating her birthday. The center photo was them kissing. In that moment, I lost the will to live. Julian, if you don’t love me, why should I save this baby? I threw my phone out the window. I watched the blood spread. I died from blood loss. Even then, Julian thought I was acting. Back at the party, without Julian, people drifted away. I finished my meal and left. Usually, Julian would text me every three minutes. Tonight, silence. Fireworks lit up the sky at midnight. Julian, who rarely used social media, posted a story. A photo of Sophie asleep on his shoulder. Peaceful. Obedient. Caption: Her. The comments flooded in instantly. “Congrats!” “Happy Wedding!” “Soulmates!” I liked the photo. A minute later, the post disappeared. Then, my phone buzzed. A text from Sophie. [Julian drove me home. I fell asleep on his shoulder. It was too late for him to drive back, so he’s crashing at my place.] [You don’t mind, right?] I typed back: [Mn.] Whatever they did was no longer my problem. I was about to sleep when Julian texted. Syncing up their stories, I guess. [Sophie just got back to the country. She didn’t buy new clothes for New Year’s. Lend her some of yours tomorrow.] [The mall is closed. I can’t buy any now.] Reading this, my mood hit rock bottom. My new clothes. The ones I hadn’t even worn yet. I had to give them to the woman he loved? Who did he think he was? I didn’t reply. I turned off my phone. The next morning, Julian showed up at our house with Sophie. 10 AM. The doorbell rang. Zach opened the door to find Julian and Sophie holding gift bags. My whole family welcomed them warmly. Except me. Julian lost his parents young. My grandma raised him. He grew up with us. My parents treated him like a son. Julian walked in and looked at me deeply. My mom smiled at Sophie. “Is this Julian’s girlfriend? It’s been years. You got so pretty!” “Thanks, Mrs. Zhu. You haven’t aged a day,” Sophie said, charming as ever. “Chloe! What are you doing in your room? Come say hi to your Brother Julian and Sister Sophie!” I walked down, poured tea, and kept my voice respectful. “Happy New Year, Brother Julian. Sister Sophie.” Julian’s face twisted. While I was in the bathroom, he texted me. [What are you mad about?] I left it on read. Lunch was awkward. I sat in my usual spot. Julian sat next to me—Zach’s seat. Zach stared. “Bro, why are you stealing my chair? Go sit next to your girlfriend.” He pulled Julian up. After a shuffle, Julian sat across from me. As soon as he sat down, I felt like I was on pins and needles. He stared at me with dark eyes. I looked away and ate in silence. Halfway through, he took another call. I looked at his empty bowl. I swallowed my food and ignored it. When he came back, he looked at the empty bowl, then at me. Zach noticed. “It’s self-serve, man. Nobody’s fighting you for food. Don’t stress Chloe out.” My mom looked between Julian and me. She sensed something. Suddenly, she called my name. “Chloe.” “Look, Julian brought a girlfriend home.” “When are you going to bring a boyfriend home for us to see?” Julian opened his mouth, looking like he wanted to speak. I cut him off. “If you and Dad know anyone nice, introduce me.” In the past, I rejected these setups immediately. Zach choked on his water, then slammed me on the back. “Chloe! You finally opened your eyes!” “If you want a guy, I’ll set you up tonight! I have tons of handsome friends!” I laughed. “Okay.” I glanced at Julian. His lips were pressed into a thin white line. “Mom, stop joking,” he interrupted suddenly. “Sophie is just an old classmate.” My mom paused. Sophie’s smile froze. Zach, ever the agent of chaos, laughed. “So you’re single? Then why don’t we set you up with Chloe?” My heart stopped. Julian shoved Zach. “Stop it. Chloe is my sister.” The hope died. Completely. I took a deep breath and forced a natural smile. “Exactly, Zach. Don’t talk nonsense. Julian is my brother.” Julian left with Sophie right after lunch. We didn’t talk for days. I ate, I slept, I went to reunions. On the fifth day of the New Year, Zach had a class reunion.

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I’m an NPC in a horror survival game. When a new batch of players loaded in, something weird happened: I could suddenly see the stream chat floating in the air. [Here she comes! Our precious baby girl has arrived!] [Even the Level Boss in this horror game is going to treat her like family.] [Any NPC who dares to touch a hair on her head is gonna get ripped to shreds by the Big Bad.] [Hey, I’m talking to you! You, holding our waifu! You scared her into fainting! You are SO done when the Boss gets here.] I looked down at the woman dangling from my grip, hesitated for a second, and then tossed her onto the floor. If the Boss of this dungeon can’t do his job properly, then I’ll do it for him. 1 I’m a veteran NPC in the horror game system. My tenure is so long I’ve honestly lost count of the years. I just remember the early days, when we were short-staffed, and I had to moonlight across multiple dungeons. I played the Drowned Bride in River God’s Wedding. I was the Cult Deity in Mountain Sacrifice. I was even the Mean Cheerleader in Oakwood High. Eventually, the roster filled up, and I got a permanent station. Three years ago, I transferred to this specific dungeon. Since the moment I gained consciousness, I’ve memorized the 108 rules of the Employee Handbook. Scare the players. Torture the players. Eat the players. The higher their Terror Meter, the better they taste. We’re only one day into this cycle, and I already snagged a player. A girl. She was so scared she cried until she passed out. Players like this usually die in the prologue. I was planning to take her back to my lair, bread her, and deep-fry her. The smell alone would make the ghouls next door cry with jealousy. But I’d only taken a few steps when the text started scrolling across my vision. [Let go of Baby Girl, you ugly freak!] [You are dead meat! The Male Lead is looking for her, and she has the ‘Family Bond’ buff with the Level Boss.] I stood there for a moment, feeling a wave of indignation. Who are you calling ugly? I am widely considered the cutest monster in a ten-mile radius. [She’s so soft and fragile, being held by that hideous thing must be terrifying.] [Look at that axe in her head! I’m gonna have nightmares.] I was mad. Furious, actually. I opened my mouth to curse them out, but the chat just spammed more insults. [What is it doing?] [Is it glitching?] [God, the AI is so stupid.] I got so angry that I circled back to being calm. Whatever. I ignored the floating text, grabbed the girl, and headed back to prep dinner. But I didn’t get far before someone blocked my path. I scanned him. New player. Probably part of the same party as the girl I was carrying. The guy in the lead was handsome, in a delicate, boy-band sort of way. Not my type. The moment they saw me, they tensed up and pulled out their items. The chat exploded, and I couldn’t help but peek. [The Male Lead is here! RIP Ugly.] [Chase has cleared so many dungeons. His items are S-Tier. He can one-shot a low-level mob like this, no problem.] I glanced at the guy. The chat called him “Chase.” Apparently, his gear was “OP.” I grinned, ripping the axe out of my own skull. I charged. Screams erupted. Half the players behind him bolted immediately. Sweet, sweet Terror Points. Come to mama! I sprinted at Chase with a twisted, limping gait. This little combo move usually makes players wet themselves. I learned the walk from the Nurse NPC next door. She died jumping off a building and broke her legs, so her walk is naturally janky. When I first mimicked her, she got super offended. It took me lending her my axe as a hair accessory to calm her down. She even gave me tips on how to limp scarier. Chase lived up to his “Male Lead” title. He waited until I was right in his face before deploying his item. A blinding white light flashed. I couldn’t see anything but the dense wall of chat comments. [AHHH! Chase is so cool!] [That ugly thing is dust.] [It’s a Legendary Item. An NPC doesn’t stand a chance. That’s what it gets for touching our Queen.] The light faded. Chase and I stared at each other in awkward silence. Then, I screamed. My axe! My beautiful axe had crumbled into dust! Chase looked horrified. “My S-Rank Holy Light… didn’t work on her?” The chat, serving as the third-party observer, was equally shook. [What the hell? How is that NPC still alive?] [Glitch? I swear Chase used that to one-shot a Boss in the last game.] [Isn’t this just an A-Rank dungeon? It shouldn’t be this hard. Plus Bella has the ‘Universal Adoration’ trait.] [Yeah, her synergy with the Male Lead is supposed to be perfect.] I was seeing red. My eyes literally started glowing. That axe was the one that killed me. It had been with me for… forever. The memory of the axe breaking tore open a sealed part of my mind. My father killed me. He called me a monster. When my mother was alive, he just hated me. After she died, I lost my only shield. He decided to dispose of “the freak.” That night, he walked into my room, face twisted in hate, the axe raised high. After I died, I used that same axe to return the favor. Violent, tyrannical energy flooded my brain. The chat scrolled faster. [Uh, guys? I think the NPC is going Berserk.] [Crap. If the Male Lead’s item didn’t work, is this a TPK (Total Party Kill)?] [No, look! Bella just woke up! She’s gonna trigger the plot armor. She’ll bring the Big Boss.] [Yeah, this NPC is about to get wrecked by the Level Boss.] I marched toward Chase, step by heavy step, muttering with obsession: “You broke my axe.” “You broke my favorite axe!” Chase’s face was pale. He threw items at me like they were free samples. They slowed me down, but nothing actually hurt. Just as my hand was about to close around Chase’s throat, a shout came from behind. “Stop!” The chat cheered. [Bella called the Big Boss to save the day!] [Sobbing, she’s right on time.] [Die, trash mob!] A familiar pressure weighed on my mind. My brain automatically pulled up the Employee Handbook. Rule 21: Within the dungeon, the Level Boss’s command is absolute. 2 A good employee always remembers the handbook. The rage in my brain began to recede. My eyes cleared. The chat became readable again. [Bella’s family is here!] [Imagine being a grunt NPC and bullying the Main Characters. Don’t you know the plot armor is thick?] The woman the chat called “Bella” threw herself at Chase, crying an ugly, snotty cry, checking him for injuries. “Oh thank god, you’re okay! I was so scared!” I covered my eyes. Hello? Single NPC right here? I died before I even hit puberty, have some respect! A familiar aura swept over me. Luke’s voice boomed above my head. “You’re the one bullying Bella?” The chat filled with schadenfreude. [It’s over. That blind NPC is toast.] [She’s getting arrogant for cannon fodder.] [The Male Lead is human, so he has limits. But the Boss? He’ll rip her apart in seconds.] [Bella is the ‘Group Pet’ of the horror world. All Bosses love her.] [Seriously, the last NPC who scared her got their head twisted off. It’s probably still rolling around that dungeon.] I slowly rotated my head 360 degrees to face Luke. I wasn’t trying to scare him; it’s just occupational habit. When he saw my face, Luke’s ghostly pale complexion shifted. Awkwardness mixed with a hint of fear. He let out a dry laugh. “Sweetie… oh, it’s you.” “Where’s your axe?” “Heh, I almost didn’t recognize you without it.” The chat froze for a second, then erupted in confusion. [Excuse me? Is this the ruthless Boss we know?] [Shouldn’t he be tearing her to shreds and telling Bella ‘I’m here, don’t be scared’?] [Am I tripping, or does the Boss sound… affectionate?] [What is happening? OOC! OOC! The book says they level up together. Bella charms the monsters, Chase kills the threats.] I gave Luke a smile that didn’t reach my eyes. Through gritted teeth, I said, “This human broke my favorite axe.” Luke instinctively wiped non-existent sweat from his forehead. He pulled me aside and whispered, pleading, “Sweetie, give me a break. Let it go this time, okay?” I looked up at him. “Do you remember the Employee Handbook?” Luke nodded. “I remember.” My face was stone cold. “Recite it.” Luke stammered through the recitation. Only then did I nod in approval. Luke whispered, trying to bribe me. “You know that item you always wanted? The one I wouldn’t give you?” “I’ll give it to you.” 3 My eyes lit up. It was a beautiful red wooden comb. I’d wanted it forever, but he’d always refused. Finally! I accepted the bribe and walked away, happily playing with the comb, glancing at the chat occasionally. The viewers were furious at Luke’s reaction. [What kind of Level Boss is this? Garbage! Just kill the NPC!] [He’s unworthy of being Bella’s family.] Some were curious. [Anyone else wonder what the relationship is between the Boss and that NPC?] I tilted my head, thinking about that comment. What relationship? Gratitude, probably. After all, Luke only became the Boss of this dungeon because of me. Back when Luke was a player, entering this dungeon for the sixth time, I caught him. I hadn’t had deep-fried human jerky in ages. Crunchy, dipped in a little blood sauce… the ghosts next door would drool. I dragged Luke back to my lair. Just as I was about to prep him, he used a “Scapegoat” item and bailed. Because of that item, when he faced the original Boss, he managed to kill it, but the item’s curse bound him to the dungeon, making him the new Boss. We’re neighbors. We see each other all the time. He tried to bully me at first. He blamed me for wasting his Scapegoat item—if I hadn’t caught him, he would have saved it for the Boss fight and escaped the game entirely. Becoming a Boss amplifies your rage and malice, so he tried to torture me. It didn’t work out for him. I beat the living daylights out of him. The Owner even punished me by making me copy the Employee Handbook for two weeks because of it! I happily walked home with my new comb. I only work one hour a day. The Owner says scaring players 24/7 devalues the product. Supply and demand, or something. Dungeons have rules. I missed my snack today, but there’s always tomorrow. The game lasts five days. Plenty of chances. I lay in my small room, but the chat wouldn’t shut up. [Ahhh! Chase is so handsome! Hero saving the beauty!] [Bella is so delicate. They are perfect together.] [Ugh, that NPC is even uglier without the axe. Get away from Bella!] I sat up, annoyed. Do these people have eyes?! I jammed the red comb into the hole in my head where the axe used to be and checked the mirror. I am adorable! The Owner told me I am the cutest girl in the world. Thinking of The Owner, I rested my chin in my hands, smiling. 4 Nobody in the dungeon—NPC or player—has ever seen The Owner. Some say he’s a God. Who else could create this nightmare dimension? Some say he’s a higher-dimensional alien. Usually, he appears as a ball of light. But I’ve seen him. The real him. I’m going to work for him forever. With my axe broken, more memories unlocked. The Owner is beautiful. But his hands are cold. The first time I scared a player into tears, he patted my head and said, “Good job, Sweetie.” Right. “Sweetie.” He gave me that name. When we first met, I had an axe stuck in my skull. I charged at him, screaming. He just bent down and picked me up. “Do you want to come with me?” I snarled and struggled. My own father wet his pants looking at me, but this man gently brushed the hair out of my face like the axe wasn’t even there. “You’re very cute. Do you have a name?” “I have a name!” I roared. He tilted his head. “No name? Let me give you one.” “How about Sweetie?” He ignored my protests, smiling. “Sweetie it is.” He led me into the Dungeon World. Years ago, there weren’t many dungeons. Most players died fast. The Owner had free time. He’d braid my hair. He’d draw whiskers on my face like a cat. He’d look at me with that teasing smile and say, “I think you look pretty like this.” I sighed softly. I missed him. I was so bummed out I stopped reading the chat. The next night, my shift started. The players were smarter now. They figured out the rules. Dungeons aren’t instant-death traps. There are patterns. I circled around but couldn’t find an opening to attack without breaking the rules. The chat mocked me. [LOL, look at Ugly go.] [She swapped the axe for a comb. Fashion icon.] [She’s so mad. Bella and the crew figured out the mechanics.] [Look at her spinning in circles.] [First-person NPC cam is kinda funny, ngl.] I ignored them. When my hour was up, I clocked out. Dungeons aren’t impossible, but they are highly lethal.

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It was Sunday, and I was playing hide-and-seek with my twin daughters. My younger daughter, Anna, was hiding right behind the door, giggling. But my older daughter, Lily? I couldn’t find her anywhere. Just then, my wife came home. She saw me looking under the sofa and asked what I was doing. “I’m looking for Lily,” I said. My wife’s face went blank. She looked at me with pure confusion. “Honey, we only have one daughter.” 1 I stared at my wife, Sarah, completely lost. Sarah likes to prank me and the kids, sure. But joking about our children’s existence? That’s crossing a line. I was anxious to find Lily, so I snapped back impatiently. “Stop playing around, Sarah. I really can’t find Lily!” I walked toward the bedroom, calling out, “Lily! Come out! Daddy gives up!” Sarah dropped the grocery bags on the floor and followed me into the bedroom. I thought she was finally going to help me look. Instead, she leaned against the doorframe, looking at me like I had grown a second head. “Will, are you out of your mind? Who is Lily?” “We don’t have a daughter named Lily!” I slammed the closet door shut and yelled, “Enough! Stop the joke!” My outburst scared Anna, who was standing in the hallway. She started to cry. I immediately crouched down to comfort her. “I’m sorry, Anna. Daddy shouldn’t have yelled. Did you see where your sister hid?” Anna was sobbing so hard she couldn’t breathe. It broke my heart. I picked her up and rocked her. Anna is non-verbal; she can only make simple sounds. She pointed frantically toward the bathroom. I put her down and rushed into the bathroom. I spun around. Nothing. Lily wasn’t there. Anna ran in after me. She grabbed my hand and pointed at the mirror, making urgent noises. I froze for a second, then realized what she meant. She was saying I had mistaken her reflection for Lily. They are identical twins, sure, but I’m their father. I don’t make that mistake. Anna shook her head violently, gesturing wildly. I was getting frustrated. “Anna, stop it. Daddy is looking for your sister.” Sarah rushed in, snatched Anna up into her arms, and looked at me with genuine fear. “Will, have you lost it? There is no Lily!” Impossible! I dragged Sarah into the living room and pointed at the large family portrait on the wall. “Tell me who the four people in this picture are!” She pushed me away. “Look closely! Count them!” I turned around, ready to scream, but the words died in my throat. In the photo, it was just me, Sarah, and Anna sitting between us. There was no Lily. This was insane. I ran to the kids’ room to find Lily’s clothes, her backpack, anything. The bunk bed was still there. But the top bunk—Lily’s bunk—was piled high with Anna’s toys and boxes. It looked like nobody had slept there in years. 2 I collapsed onto the bottom bunk. Sarah didn’t cook dinner. She took Anna and stormed out of the house, slamming the front door to show just how pissed she was. I sat there in the silence, actually starting to question my sanity. Was I having a psychotic break? Lily was just here. She was right in front of me. How could Sarah look me in the eye and say she didn’t exist? I have a habit of biting my nails when I’m nervous. I raised my left hand and stopped. There was a Hello Kitty Band-Aid on my index finger. Lily put that there. This afternoon, I was cutting fruit and nicked my finger. Lily had blinked her big eyes at me, held my hand with both of hers, and said seriously: “Daddy, pain fly away.” My heart had melted. That happened. Lily exists! I grabbed my phone and called my parents. Their reaction was identical to Sarah’s. They told me I’ve only ever had Anna. My mom sounded worried. “Will, honey… is this because you’re stressed about Anna being non-verbal? Maybe… maybe you and Sarah should try for a son.” What the hell were they talking about? I never cared that Anna couldn’t speak! I just wanted to find Lily! She was just tagging along behind me, calling me Daddy. How did she vanish from everyone’s memory but mine? Is the whole world gaslighting me? I felt a wave of crushing grievance. I mumbled a goodbye and hung up. I took a deep breath. Stop thinking. Just function. I unpacked the groceries Sarah had dropped and put them in the fridge. Just as I finished, the front door opened. Sarah and Anna were back. Sarah ignored me completely. Anna, however, walked straight up to me. “Daddy, you need to rest. Don’t be so tired.” Wait. Anna spoke? I reached out to hug her, but she bolted past me and ran to Sarah. My hands grabbed empty air. Sarah picked Anna up, looking at me with undisguised disgust. “Don’t talk to your father. His brain is broken.” She slammed the bedroom door. Apparently, I was sleeping on the couch or the guest room. I trudged to the master bedroom—which was empty now—lay on the bed, and closed my eyes. I hoped that when I woke up, the nightmare would be over. Sarah, Lily, and Anna would all be there. Exhaustion took over. I don’t know how long I slept, but a faint, childish voice whispered in my ear. “Daddy… Daddy.” It was Lily! My eyes snapped open. 3 It was pitch black. “Daddy, I’m down here!” The voice came from under the bed. I hung my head over the side. Lily was peeking out, just half her face visible. “Daddy, why didn’t you come find me? I’ve been hiding for so long.” I reached down to pull her out, but she scrambled out like a little monkey and ran out the door. I chased her. She stopped at the door of the kids’ room, eyes curved in a smile, looking at me. “Lily, stop running.” She didn’t stop. She turned and went into the room. Inside, Sarah was asleep on the bottom bunk. The top bunk was cleared of toys. It was made up with Lily’s sheets again. But where was Anna? Wasn’t Sarah sleeping with Anna? I crouched down and whispered to Lily, “Where’s your sister?” Lily pointed to the door. I looked back. Anna was standing in the doorway, smiling at me. Identical twins. Identical taste. They were both wearing the same bear-print nightgowns, standing one in front of me, one behind me. I felt dizzy. I grabbed Lily’s hand and Anna’s hand and dragged them to the bunk bed. I was going to wake Sarah up. I was going to make her look at our two daughters. 4 But the moment I flipped the light switch, my hands were empty. They vanished. “Lily!” “Anna!” I spun around to look for them, and then I heard Sarah scream. “AHHHH!!” “Will! Are you insane?!” Sarah was sitting up in the bottom bunk, clutching Anna tightly to her chest. Anna was safe. I smiled, relieved. But they were looking at me with pure terror. Anna burst into tears. I didn’t understand. Then I looked down at my hand. I was gripping a kitchen knife. The blade was pointed straight at my wife and child. I screamed and dropped the knife. It clattered loudly on the floor. What the hell? I hadn’t been to the kitchen. Where did the knife come from? I didn’t have time to process it. I raised my hands. “I didn’t… Sarah, listen to me…” I tried to explain everything I saw. The voice under the bed, the two girls. Sarah ignored me. She dressed Anna hurriedly, shaking. She asked Anna, “Honey, tell the truth. Did you get out of bed?” Anna was sobbing, shaking her head. “No. I was sleeping with Mommy. I woke up and Daddy was holding a knife and laughing at us.” That wasn’t true. I was losing it. “Sarah, please, just listen—” She shoved me away. “How many times do I have to say it?! We only have Anna!” “There is no Lily!” “Stop making up stories!” Seeing the hate in her eyes, I knew I couldn’t win. I compromised. “Okay. Okay. Maybe I am sick. I’ll go to the doctor tomorrow. Please.” Sarah didn’t care. She picked up Anna and stormed out of the house again, heading to her parents’.

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On the day I was supposed to get engaged to New York tycoon Gavin Sterling, my boyfriend died. Three years later, I stood on the podium, accepting the award for Best Actress. The host asked me, “Who is the love you dedicated this award to? Is it Mr. Sterling?” I smiled and shook my head. “His name was Xander. He left me three years ago.” Facing countless flashing cameras, I spoke with serious, stubborn intent. “Xander, if you’re watching, come find me.” The internet said I was crazy. Telling a dead man to come find me? Did I have a death wish? But I still hoped for one more miracle in this world. 1 “Xander, if you’re watching, come find me.” After I said those words, the entire awards ceremony fell silent for a moment. Maybe the expression on my face was too intense, leaving the host scrambling for a way to respond. Finally, she let out a dry laugh. “Everyone knows our Best Actress, Sue, won for her role in Goodbye, My Lover. The male lead in that movie did indeed die young, a tragic ending.” “It seems Sue is still deep in character, giving us an impromptu performance.” “Truly effortless. Admirable.” “Let’s give her a round of applause!” Thunderous applause gradually filled the hall. I didn’t offer any further explanation. I wasn’t talking to them anyway. Holding my heavy trophy and lifting the hem of my floor-length gown, I walked down the steps. Bathed in gazes of admiration and envy, I felt lighter than air. Unlike the road to get here, which had been so incredibly hard. I passed Gavin. Our eyes met. His expression was calm, his demeanor cool. His thin lips parted. “Congrats.” I nodded. “Thank you.” I had already thanked him in my speech, but it would never be enough. I sat back in my seat, thumbing the trophy. My mind had already drifted far away from the ceremony. 2 After the ceremony, there was a gala. Investors, stars—everyone who was anyone would be there. To celebrate the winners, and to pave their own paths. Gavin gave me a ride. Once inside the banquet hall, I consciously separated from him. Avoiding the crowd, I slipped away to the quieter back garden. I set my champagne on the edge of a flowerbed and scrolled through the trending topics. News of my win was #1, naturally. A bright red “EXPLOSIVE” tag next to it. Right below it was a discussion about the new Best Actress’s mental state. Also tagged “EXPLOSIVE.” The netizens were analyzing it like they were Freud. [Her ex-fiancé turned out to be gay. Did that drive Sue crazy?] [Sister, take a break. You’re spiraling.] [Seriously dangerous. She wants to see a ghost.] [I laughed. How can Sue talk about her ‘hard road’ in her speech? The Sterling Group basically dumped all their resources on her. That’s probably why she didn’t blow up at Gavin and accepted his… arrangement.] [She’s okay with being a beard? The world really is a giant Alabama.] [Keyboard warriors just love to tear women down with zero facts. Did you miss how hard Sue worked for three years?] [Am I the only one curious about who Xander is? Reminds me of a guy I knew. A singer at a bar I used to run. Played guitar like a god, but never took off his mask. Never saw his face.] [Curious about what? Three years ago Sue was a D-list nobody. How famous could anyone she knew be? She’s just saying vague stuff for clout. She knows how to play the internet.] Fame brings trouble. Aside from my career fans congratulating me, there were armies of bots and trolls attacking me. True or false? Only I knew the difference. But the part about Xander being a bar singer? That was true. 3 Xander and I were abandoned at the orphanage door on the same day. So, we shared a birthday. Maybe that’s why Xander always protected me. If someone bullied me, he’d retaliate. Even if he got jumped, he never backed down. The other kids called him “Mad Dog.” No one played with us. Later, in school, I had good grades. He… didn’t. I became the “nerd,” he became the “delinquent.” He kept his distance so I could study. But if anyone harassed me or confessed their love, he’d take them “out back.” If words didn’t work, fists did. Boys were terrified to approach me. The girls said I was being haunted by a demon and told me not to “fall.” I just smiled softly and told them, “Xander is good.” No one believed me. Because Xander was always covered in bruises. He dyed his hair blonde. looked every inch the thug. In high school, tuition fees kicked in. Xander dropped out. Being underage, he could only find work in shady sweatshops. The pay was dirt. The money he earned paid my tuition, my living expenses, and kept him alive. Those times were hard. I studied day and night to stay #1, to get scholarships and grants. To lighten Xander’s load. But honestly? I didn’t want to go to school. I wanted to act. To be a star everyone knew. Xander said no. He let me do anything, but I had to finish college. He said, “I will carry you my whole life. But first, you need knowledge. Raise your horizons. Then chase your dream.” Freshman year of college. On my 18th birthday, I confessed to Xander. He wanted to refuse. He said I’d meet better people. But he couldn’t resist my tears. We were together for four years. I thought it would be forever. But his “forever” only lasted twenty-three years. I graduated and entered the entertainment industry. Xander bought a guitar, taught himself to play, and started singing in bars. He said, “When you become a leading lady, I’ll record your theme song.” I hadn’t become a leading lady yet. I played a maid. I had three lines. Then I wrapped. The day I wrapped was our birthday. He said he was coming to celebrate. He bought a big cake and a bouquet of gardenias. Crossing the street on a green light, a drunk driver hit him. Ran over his legs. The cake and flowers were crushed. My Xander was crushed too. 4 That’s when I met Gavin. He was the CEO of my agency. A D-lister like me never saw him. But Xander had a rare blood type, and miraculously, his heart was undamaged. Gavin found me. He needed Xander’s heart. At any cost. So, the story of my engagement to Gavin began. It was Xander’s dying wish. To give me status and a bright future. Sadly, I never fulfilled it. In this life, I felt like I never did anything for Xander. Repressed emotions fermented over the years, turning into a soft thorn in my heart. Move, and it hurts. I prayed day and night, hoping there were gods above. Hoping they’d send Xander back to me. Netizens called me crazy. I never denied it. I had seen a miracle. Right next to Gavin. His lover was the one who needed Xander’s heart. He died the same day Xander did, but was reborn in another body. That is a miracle. I hoped a miracle would favor me just once. And if being crazy meant seeing Xander again? I’d gladly be insane.

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After my husband went blind, he became silent and withdrawn. One night, after we finished being intimate and I was drifting off to sleep, a stream of floating text—like a livestream chat—suddenly scrolled across my vision: [The Male Lead is overthinking it again. He thinks she got up to take meds because he made her uncomfortable.] [This man is the CEO of Sensitivity. Last time she said his soup was bland, he hid in the bathroom and cried for thirty minutes!] [And the time before that! She said his outfit wasn’t right for going out, and he spiraled, thinking he was washed up and losing to the young bucks outside!] [He finally opened his mouth to ask, but she didn’t answer. He’s crashing out. He’s planning to end it all!] The next second. I felt movement beside me. 1 Damien got up quietly. If it weren’t for the suppressed, choked sob coming from behind me, I would have thought the floating text was a hallucination. I slowly opened my eyes and looked at the dark silhouette standing by the bed. He stood there like a statue. Head bowed, fists clenched and unclenched. Finally, with a trembling hand, he fumbled to tuck the quilt around me. In the dark, his unfocused eyes seemed to burn with a desperate, paranoid heat. He reached out, his hand hovering inches from my face, then stopped. His voice was a broken whisper: “Why… why did you get tired of me so fast?” A warm droplet hit my palm. Against the moonlight, Damien’s face was wet with tears. Before I could speak, he stood up abruptly and walked toward the door, barefoot and silent. The chat flashed again: [Wake up, girl! Your husband is about to delete his save file!] [Let him die. He’s just a jealous wreck pretending to be noble.] [She said the soup was bland, he heard “our love is dead, get out.”] [That slutty mesh shirt he wore? She said it wasn’t suitable for public, he heard “you’re old and ugly, make way for a boy toy.”] [This MC has the fastest death flags I’ve ever seen. But good news: It turns into a ‘Ghost Romance’ genre after this. The smut gets wilder!] [Yesss! Ghost Husband Era! He becomes a possessive spirit and haunts her for midnight fun!] [Unfocused eyes, phantom touch… fast forward to the good part!] I snapped awake, the confusion vanishing instantly. Ghost Romance? They play that hard? But I’ve been terrified of ghosts since I was a kid! Goosebumps erupted all over my skin. I widened my eyes and shouted at Damien’s retreating back: “Damien! I need water!” 2 The warm water soothed my throat. As my brain rebooted, the fear of a ghost romance faded, replaced by the realization of what the chat was saying. Damien’s personality did a 180 after the accident. He wasn’t totally blind, but his vision was blurry shadows. He refused therapy and shut down. I didn’t know what was going on in his head, so I treated him normally. Who knew my normal comments were being filtered through his insecurity processor? I said the soup was bland. He thought I was implying our arranged marriage was flavorless and I despised him because he was blind. He drank the soup in silence, then went to the bathroom to cry so the nanny cam in the living room wouldn’t catch him. I said his outfit didn’t work. He thought I was calling him washed up. I blushed thinking about that outfit. A sheer, black V-neck shirt and pants made of some material that left nothing to the imagination. He went commando! I almost dragged him to the bedroom right then and there. But I was trying to take him to a gala to boost his confidence. I gently suggested he change. He went to his room and never came out. Apparently, he was mourning his youth. And tonight… he spiraled again. The worst part? He wasn’t going to die properly. He was going to come back as a horny ghost. The chat descriptions… they were not PG-13. And again: I. Hate. Ghosts. [Hey! Why did he turn around again?] [She called him, why is he still trying to off himself?] [Whatever, let him die. Unlock the Ghost Route!] I shuddered. Does he have to become a ghost? Can’t he just… live? My mind went blank as I remembered what he was misunderstanding this time. I grabbed the object on the nightstand and shouted at his back: “You didn’t make me uncomfortable! It was great! I’m taking Tums! It’s for digestion!” 3 The moment the words left my mouth, I turned into a boiled lobster. The bottle of antacids slipped from my hand and hit the floor with a loud clatter. The chat paused for a second, then exploded: [Why is she blushing?] [Why is she taking digestive aids at 3 AM? Dinner was ten hours ago.] [She didn’t eat a midnight snack. What is she ‘full’ of?] [Oh… the screen faded to black for a LONG time earlier. The Male Lead has stamina.] **[I know what she ate. It’s **.] **[Yeah, definitely **. Damn, censorship!] A screen full of asterisks. Not a single pair of pants in sight. We’ve been married three years. I wanted a baby. I closed my eyes, my heart hammering against my ribs. My face burned so hot it hurt. My lips trembled. “Too many times… my stomach is… bloated.” 4 Setting aside the arranged marriage aspect, Damien and I were childhood friends. We grew up together. Even though we were the same age, Damien always acted like the mature older brother, taking care of me. I don’t know when my feelings changed. I crushed on him from high school through college. I wanted to confess. At a family dinner, our parents hinted at setting us up. I held the cup of ginger cola he made me, waiting for his answer. All I got was Damien saying, “It’s too early for that conversation.” It wasn’t a yes. It was a polite rejection. And after crushing my heart, he gently asked if my cola was still warm or if I needed a fresh cup. His gentleness felt like a slap in the face. He was nice to everyone. I wasn’t special. My pride took over. I lied and said I liked someone else. He was so gracious. He congratulated me and killed my last shred of hope. After graduation, I went abroad. We lost touch. We met again at a coffee shop to discuss the merger marriage. Through the steam of his coffee, he told me that perhaps, as a partner, he would be a suitable choice. He was suitable. Generous, open-minded. Not the jealous type. The model husband. Until six months ago. The car accident took his sight. His “open-mindedness” rotted. He said he was fine, but I saw him clench his fists when I turned my back. He promised not to be suspicious, but I caught him sniffing my clothes at 2 AM when I got up to use the bathroom. My heart, which I thought was dead, started beating again. I hate jealous men. But seeing Damien like this… unraveling because of me? It made my blood boil in a different way.

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After my father went bankrupt, I was shipped off to the Thorne estate to settle his debts. The man who picked me was the third son, Julian Thorne—a man with a notorious obsession with snakes. Every night, he would bring a cold, slithering reptile into our bedroom. He’d let it coil around my ankles, ignoring my tears, refusing to take it away. Aside from that terrifying quirk, I lived a life of luxury. I was the envy of everyone, the spoiled bird in a gilded cage. But then, another girl arrived at the estate to pay off a debt. Because this new girl was terrified of snakes, Julian killed his favorite pet right in front of her. Looking at the serpent’s blood pooling on the floor, I knew my time as his favorite canary was up. Conveniently, my three-year contract was over. So, clutching my barely showing baby bump, I quietly escaped the Thorne estate. 1 When I found out my family was bankrupt, I was actually thrilled. My dad had eight daughters. I was number eight. My seven older sisters had all been sold off into strategic marriages. They were pawned off to divorcees with baggage or geriatrics old enough to be their grandfathers. Beautiful women, all of them, living miserable lives. Dad had picked a winner for me, too. He combined the worst traits of all my brothers-in-law: short, obese, fifty-six years old, and mean. I took one look at him and threw up. Literally. I knew if I married him, I’d starve to death because looking at his face killed my appetite. When I refused, Dad locked me in the basement. He knew the drill; he’d broken seven daughters before me. Just as I was about to lose hope, his company tanked. Even better? None of my rich brothers-in-law lifted a finger to help. Dad was finally broke. I lit incense for my ancestors, thanking them for the divine intervention. I thought I’d dodged the bullet of marriage. I underestimated my father’s shamelessness. Since he couldn’t marry me off, he decided to use me as collateral. 2 Being sent to the Thorne estate felt like walking into a slaughterhouse. Dad said the Thornes had three sons. If one of them took a liking to me, great. If not, he’d ship me off to the next creditor. By that point, my standards were on the floor. I figured I’d rather deal with the Thornes than be passed around like a bad check. As long as they weren’t 5’3″ and pushing sixty, I was game. But the Thorne patriarch was old-school. He looked at my dad with disgust. “We run a legitimate business. We don’t accept human trafficking as payment.” We were kicked out. Dad was already scrolling through his contacts, mumbling about the next family on the list, when a sharp whistle cut through the air. A man stepped out of the shadows. Sharp jawline, high brows, messy hair falling over his forehead. He was wearing black joggers, and his legs looked like they went on for days. Our eyes met, and I had one thought: This is my reward for looking at ugly men all year. Then I looked closer, and my blood ran cold. There was a silver snake coiled around his arm. Not a toy. A real, live snake. It was as thick as a baby’s arm, its beady black eyes locked on me, tongue flicking in and out. I’ve been terrified of cold-blooded creatures since I was a kid. My scalp went numb. I tried to step back, but my dad bowed low, his voice trembling with hope. “Third Young Master.” I knew of Julian Thorne. He was the black sheep of the prestigious family. Wild, dangerous, and obsessed with snakes. No women, just reptiles. Yet, for some reason, he was the heir apparent. Julian ignored my dad. He lifted his chin at me, his voice lazy and deep. “Scared of snakes?” Terrified. Petrified. But I forced my feet to stay planted. Compared to the troll my dad wanted me to marry, this guy was a Greek god. I squeezed out a harmless smile. “No.” He smirked, clearly not buying it. He extended his arm, thrusting the snake right into my face. “Touch it then.” 3 Every cell in my body screamed run. But I couldn’t afford to offend Julian Thorne. I gritted my teeth and reached out. The snake stretched its neck, its icy scales brushing against my palm. Cold. Slimy. Mommy, help. I kept the smile plastered on my face and lied through my teeth. “Wow… the texture… it’s really nice.” Suddenly, the snake unhinged its jaw, lunging as if to bite. I shrieked and scrambled back three steps, my composure shattering. My lie was busted. I expected him to mock me. Instead, he looked me up and down with an amused glint in his eyes. “What’s your name?” “Harper. Harper Lee.” “Want to come with me?” “Huh?” By the time I processed what was happening, my dad and Julian had struck a deal. I was to stay with Julian for three years. In exchange, he’d wipe out $5 million of my father’s debt. It was a terrible deal for Julian. But he nodded, looking bored. “Sure. Done.” 4 That night, I moved into Julian’s private villa. When he walked into the bedroom, he’d already showered. He was wearing a white silk V-neck pajama top, damp hair dripping water down his chest, disappearing into the fabric. I stood pressed against the wall, stiff as a board. “What is this, detention?” He scoffed, towel-drying his hair. “If you don’t want to share a bed, there are sixteen other rooms. Take your pick.” My eyes lit up. He was a gentleman! I was about to nod when he added, a wicked smirk playing on his lips, “But the other fifteen are snake rooms. Between five and twenty snakes per room. Your choice.” I froze. “Actually… this room is great. Very cozy.” He closed the door. Just us. Look, Julian was hot, and I knew what a “debt repayment” girl was expected to do, but my knowledge of intimacy came entirely from romance novels. I had zero practical experience. Julian climbed into bed and patted the empty space beside him. “You coming, or do I have to carry you?” I hesitated, then inched toward the bed. Rumor had it Julian Thorne hated women. Since I didn’t look like a reptile, maybe I was safe? I slid under the covers, leaving enough space between us to fit a minivan. Julian looked at me, an unreadable expression on his face. He flapped his pajama shirt, trying to cool down. Flash of eight-pack abs. I glanced, then looked away, trying to be helpful. “Is the AC too high? I can lower it.” Julian went silent. He stared at me, his Adam’s apple bobbing. He looked… thirsty. “Do you need water?” I asked. His expression got complicated. He suddenly wasn’t thirsty anymore. He turned off the light and turned his back to me. I relaxed. The rumors were true. He wasn’t interested. He probably just bought me out of pity. I was blessing his kind heart and drifting off to sleep when a heavy arm draped over my waist. A hot body pressed against my back. His voice was raspy, right in my ear. “We doing this?” 5 I take it back. Julian Thorne was not a good person. He was a menace. I was too shy to say no, so he took that as a yes and pressed his advantage until I surrendered. And he was a pervert. Who brings a snake to bed during that? He’d let the snake slither around the bed, its tongue flickering against my ankle, its cold scales sliding over my calf. Meanwhile, he’d bite my earlobe, his hot breath clashing with the cold reptile. Fire and ice. It nearly drove me insane. The first year, I counted the days until I could leave him and his creepy zoo. The second year, I realized Stockholm Syndrome is real. I started getting used to it. Maybe even… liking it? The third year, I realized life with Julian wasn’t bad. He was clean. No other women. He gave me whatever I wanted. I had diamonds the size of pigeon eggs, gold bars, closets full of designer bags. Everyone knew I was Julian’s favorite. Even my dad bowed when he saw me now. I was living the high life. I thought Julian liked me. When he whispered my name in the dark, his eyes reflected only me. So when the three years were up, he didn’t mention me leaving, and I didn’t bring it up. When I found out I was pregnant, I was actually excited. I couldn’t wait to tell him. But that night, for the first time in three years, Julian didn’t come home. The next day, I found out why. The Thorne family had acquired a new “debt girl.”

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During our summer vacation, my little sister sneaked into a beat-up cargo van. I pretended I didn’t see a thing and turned my back. In my past life, I stopped her. And for that, she hated me for decades. On my daughter’s first birthday, she laced her formula with a lethal dose of rat poison. Watching my baby cough up blood, she laughed like a maniac. “Remember this? You caused this!” she screamed. “You ruined my life, so I’m going to make sure you suffer for the rest of yours!” “Why did you stop me from getting in that van?!” I tried to fight her, but she stabbed me until I was paralyzed. I spent years rotting in a hospital bed, a vegetable, until I finally flatlined. When I opened my eyes again, I was back there. The parking lot. The heat. And my sister, sneaking toward the van. 1 I opened my eyes and stared right at Chloe’s back as she nervously looked around. I squinted, a tidal wave of hatred crashing over me. A black panel van rolled up to the curb. She knocked on the door three times—a signal. Two men slid the door open and yanked her inside. In my last life, I thought she was being kidnapped. I screamed, rallied a crowd, and dragged her back from the edge of hell. I was too frantic back then to notice the look on her face. It wasn’t fear. It was annoyance. Chloe hated me for forty years. Not only did she murder my daughter, but she also spent years poisoning my food, wrecking my body before she finally put me in that coma. While I lay paralyzed, she would come to my bedside daily to curse me out. She’d brag about her wealthy husband, her perfect life, her adorable daughter. Every year, she’d bring her kid to celebrate her birthday right in front of my dying body. Five years of torture later, I died of sheer rage. It wasn’t until the bitter end that I realized why Chloe was so desperate to get in that van. It was her “Main Character Ascension Plan.” Since she was a toddler, Chloe believed she was special. The “Chosen One.” She was convinced she didn’t belong in our middle-class family, that she was a lost princess switched at birth. As she grew older and started looking exactly like Dad, she had to accept biology. But she hatched a new plan. If you’re born in the wrong house, you can just switch houses, right? The men in the van were traffickers. Chloe had contacted them herself. She volunteered to be kidnapped. Her only condition? “Sell me to a billionaire’s family.” The traffickers, obviously, said yes. Today was the execution day. In her twisted mind, I destroyed her destiny. I blocked her path to becoming a heiress. Watching the taillights of the van fade into the distance, I smirked and melted back into the crowd of tourists. This time, sister dear, go chase the life you think you deserve. I can’t wait to see where they actually take you. 2 Ten minutes later, Chloe still hadn’t come back from the “bathroom.” Mom and Dad started getting antsy. They checked the restrooms. Empty. Their faces went pale. Twenty minutes later, we’d scoured the entire tourist trap. No Chloe. Mom nearly fainted. Dad called the cops. Thirty years ago, security cameras were trash. They only saw Chloe walk toward the bathrooms and never come out. Only I knew she’d climbed out the bathroom window, circled back to the blind spot by the service exit, and hopped into the van. We searched until sunset. Nothing. Mom passed out twice. Dad chain-smoked a whole pack, his hands shaking. “It’s my fault! Why didn’t I watch her?!” Dad sobbed, face buried in his hands. “Summer, Daddy lost your sister.” We stayed in that town for half a month. My parents were eating themselves alive with guilt. They both ended up hospitalized from stress. I watched them wither away and broke into a cold sweat. This wasn’t part of the plan. I couldn’t let that monster ruin us from afar. That night, I walked up to my parents’ hospital beds, tears streaming down my face. “Mom, Dad…” I choked out. Mom pulled me into a hug, wiping my tears. “Baby, do you miss Chloe? Are you blaming Mommy for losing her?” I shook my head violently and buried my face in her chest. “I lost my sister. I can’t lose you guys too.” “I’m so scared. Please don’t leave me alone. Mom, Dad, you have to get better!” It was like a bucket of ice water hit them. They realized they didn’t just have Chloe. They still had me, their eight-year-old daughter who needed them. The next day, they pulled themselves together. Three days later, we went home. They stopped blaming themselves in front of me. To make up for the loss, they poured double the love into me. Dad threw himself into his work to distract from the pain. He caught the wave of the tech boom. His small factory became a massive corporation. We moved from a cramped apartment to a sprawling estate in the hills. I became the sole heiress of the Joestar family. I was thirteen. Lying in my king-sized bed, I laughed out loud. I wondered what kind of “billionaire life” Chloe was living. If she knew we were filthy rich now, what kind of face would she make? The family she tried to escape was the very “wealthy dynasty” she dreamed of. In the last life, because she came back, my parents stayed middle-class workers. We lived ordinary lives. I smoothed the silk of my designer dress. Turns out, Chloe was the curse on this family. Without her, we soared. Because of how weak I was in my last life, I started training. Kickboxing, swimming, Pilates. I studied nutrition and medicine. I also hit the books hard. My parents, seeing me work so hard, were heartbroken. “Summer, we have enough money. You don’t need to push yourself. We just want you happy.” I flashed a sharp, toothy grin. “Mom, I am happy.” 3 Dad never stopped looking for Chloe, even while building his empire. He spent a fortune on missing person ads and offered a massive bounty. $5,000 for a lead. $2 million for finding her. Scammers lined up around the block. Dad didn’t care. He was practically giving money away, earning the nickname “The ATM.” Two years passed. Nothing. Mom was getting frustrated. “It’s all fake! Just people trying to swindle us!” Just as they were about to give up, a bald man showed up. I recognized him instantly. He was the driver of the van. Ten years hadn’t changed his sketchy, rat-like face. He licked his lips. “Mr. Joestar, I think I know where your girl is.” Dad waved him on. He’d heard it all before. “I saw a girl looking like her in B-City. But she was taken so young, I ain’t sure.” “I can go check. If I find her, I’ll let you know. But about the cash…” Dad sighed, barely listening. “Like I said. You find her, you get the two million.” Baldy rubbed his hands together, took the five grand “finder’s fee,” and left. My parents didn’t have much hope. B-City was 2,000 miles away. But I knew. Baldy wasn’t lying. He knew exactly where she was because he sold her there. But did he think he was getting that two million? In his dreams. I hired a private investigator immediately. “Find a girl named Chloe in B-City. You have one week.” Three days later, I got the photos. I laughed until my sides hurt. Oh, Chloe. Is this the high life you sold your soul for? 4 In the photos, Chloe was scrubbing toilets in a greasy diner, wearing rags. In another, she was sitting at a dinner table, eating watery porridge while a little boy across from her devoured a whole roast chicken. The PI told me the details: The couple who bought her couldn’t conceive. They wanted a son but couldn’t afford one, so they bought a girl cheap. Two years later, they miraculously had a biological son. Chloe became the live-in maid. She dropped out of school years ago. The “parents”—the Millers—forced her to work. Then the PI hesitated. “Miss Summer, there’s… something else.” “Spit it out.” “The second daughter… she has a boyfriend.” A boyfriend? Normal for an 18-year-old. But then I saw the photo. It was a wrinkly, toothless man in his sixties. The PI explained they often hooked up in the back of the diner after hours. The old guy, Gary, had a bit of money and bought her things. I paid the PI double to keep his mouth shut. Baldy was already on his way to B-City. The reunion was inevitable. That night, I put in eye drops to make my eyes red and puffy. Mom saw me and panicked. “Summer! Baby, who hurt you?” I bit my lip and slid the photos across the marble table. “Mom, Dad… I found her. I found Chloe. She’s… she’s suffering so much.” I withheld the photos of her and Old Man Gary. My parents took one look at Chloe scrubbing toilets and broke down. Mom wailed. “It’s our fault! We failed her!” They decided to drive to B-City immediately. As I stood up, I “accidentally” knocked the photo of Chloe and Gary onto the floor. “Oh no!” I scrambled to grab it, making sure they saw it clearly. “Mom, Dad, wait—Chloe must have a reason! Life is hard, maybe she had no choice!” My dad’s face turned purple. In the photo, Chloe was hanging off the old man, laughing with genuine delight. Mom pursed her lips. I hid the photo behind my back. “Don’t judge her! Maybe… maybe he’s a nice grandpa figure?” Dad slammed his chopsticks down. “We leave at dawn!” The guilt was still there, but now, it was mixed with shame. I went back to my room and smirked at the photo. Showtime.

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I was in the middle of a game when my roommate suddenly ripped my headphones off and smashed them into pieces. “You’re still playing games?!” he roared. He forced my game to quit and opened the campus forum. I saw the pinned post and froze. “Student Sophie Su Expelled for Degrading Conduct Involving Foreign Nationals, Violating University Honor Code.” I was stunned. That’s my girlfriend. My roommate then quickly turned on his VPN and opened an international streaming site. He said furiously, “Your girlfriend is being livestreamed. The whole school knows!” I finally saw it. A foreigner had started a livestream with the title: “Took down an Easy Girl from China in one day!” In the livestream app, my girlfriend, Sophie, was sitting in a foreigner’s lap. She looked completely enamored, letting the man hold and kiss her. She looked straight at the camera without shame and coquettishly told the guy, “You can’t post this, okay?” The foreigner grinned and said, “Don’t worry, I won’t show anyone. I’ll only watch it when I miss you.” Sophie giggled, threw her arms around his neck, and kissed him back passionately. Little did she know, this guy wasn’t just going to show it to people—he was livestreaming it on the international web, letting the whole world see just how cheap she was! I was in a daze. Because my girlfriend, Sophie, was supposed to be in Shanghai on a trip with her best friend. She told me she’d been feeling down lately and wanted to travel with her bestie. She said she didn’t have enough money and asked me to help out. To make her happy, I lived frugally and worked part-time jobs just to buy her a plane ticket to Shanghai. And in the end, this is how she treats me! I basically paid to send her to another man’s bed! I shouted, “Who is this guy?” My roommate said, “You missed the earlier stream. This guy is Ukrainian, an esports player. Your girlfriend went to Shanghai to watch him compete. They added each other on socials, and it hasn’t even been a day, and they’re already in bed! This is huge, it’s trending in twelve countries!” The world was spinning. I couldn’t believe the forward girl in the livestream was my girlfriend. Back when I was chasing her, she wasn’t this open. She demanded gifts every day, demanded romance, or she wouldn’t date me. She always said, “If he cares, you don’t need to teach him; if he doesn’t, you can’t teach him anyway,” using such strict standards to judge me. But in front of that foreigner, she was a completely different person. No, I couldn’t believe this was my girlfriend. It must just be someone who looks like her! My girlfriend must still be traveling with her best friend right now! I quickly called her, staring intently at the phone screen. To my horror, a ringtone rang out in the livestream. I watched helplessly as Sophie picked up the phone. The foreigner asked curiously, “Who is it?” Sophie said, “My boyfriend.” In that moment, my heart died completely. The comments section exploded. There were probably a lot of Chinese people watching the stream for the drama, and a string of “WTF” flooded the chat. The foreigner grinned, “You have a boyfriend and you’re still sleeping with me?” She thought for a moment, then playfully stuck out her tongue and said, “We have a saying in China: Since we’re chasing thrills, we might as well go all the way.” That slut! She said that in a livestream the whole world could see! After saying that, she actually answered my call! Then she hugged the Ukrainian guy, letting him kiss her neck and shoulders. I held the phone, hearing Sophie’s panting on the other end. She gasped out, “Baby, I’m rushing to a scenic spot. Shanghai is so big, I’m exhausted from walking.” The panting on the phone, combined with the intimate actions on the screen, seemed to mock me for being a stupid dog. I am her boyfriend. But now, she was treating me like a tool for her thrill-seeking game. I opened my mouth, but found I couldn’t say a word. My mouth was full of bitterness. Sophie, hearing my silence, looked at her phone in confusion and then hung up. Then she opened WeChat and sent me a voice message: “Baby, your signal is bad, I can’t hear you.” My roommate asked me confusedly, “Why didn’t you speak just now? Why didn’t you expose her true face?” I watched the livestream, gritting my teeth, “The main event hasn’t started yet. Before she strips naked, why should I let this slut realize she’s embarrassing herself in front of the whole world?” My roommate realized what I meant. He gave me a thumbs up and said, “Good job! I was afraid you’d go soft because of your past love and stop her from humiliating herself further.” I watched Sophie being so proactive on the screen, and fury rose in my heart. That bitch. I spent so much money on her. I want her to spit it all back out! The foreigner was still holding Sophie, asking with interest, “You’re so bold, aren’t you afraid your boyfriend will find out?” Obviously, in his mind, Sophie was just a tool. He knew Sophie was bringing him a lot of traffic right now, so this question wasn’t for him—it was for all the viewers! Without knowing it, Sophie had entered the Q&A segment of the show. She said, “I just made a decision that any Chinese girl would make.” The foreigner asked puzzledly, “What do you mean?” Sophie said, “Chinese men suck. They are our last resort. We get together with them only because there’s nothing better at the moment.” The foreigner laughed loudly, “So you’d rather cheat and have a good time with me for a night, right?” Sophie giggled, “Yeah, we all worship your size.” At this moment, the comments section had completely exploded. “I’m also a Chinese girl, please don’t represent me.” “I’m a Chinese girl. I would choose a foreign man, but I would break up with my boyfriend fair and square first.” “I also dislike Chinese men, but honestly, what’s more unacceptable than Chinese men is cheating and knowingly being the other woman! This girl is both!” “I support her! She just did what all men would do. The ones scolding her are all men whose egos were bruised. Stop using alt accounts to pretend to be women here!” “I’m not a man, but the person above is really a dog.” The comments section was filled with curses, and a tiny minority of comments supporting Sophie. Just then, my phone rang suddenly. I looked at it, and rage flared up instantly! It was Sophie’s best friend! I picked up the phone, and she said, “I saw you calling in the livestream. Do you already know?” I said, “Didn’t you tell me Sophie was traveling with you and told me not to worry?” Her best friend said helplessly, “I lied to you, but I didn’t know that guy would livestream it online! It happened, is there any use talking about this now? If you want an apology, I’m saying sorry to you now. Happy?” I was stunned. Her self-righteous attitude left me completely unsure of how to respond. I said, “What do you want?” She said, “No time for nonsense. Go to the campus forum immediately and post a thread saying Sophie didn’t cheat, but that you two were already fighting and in a cold war, which led her to travel to clear her mind. And say you already broke up with her, and she was just calling you ‘baby’ out of wishful thinking. Just explain it to everyone like that, understand?” I asked in shock, “Why should I do that?” She said excitedly, “Don’t you get it? Sophie is the biggest victim now! She was livestreamed and expelled from school. Only you can help her minimize the damage now!” I couldn’t help saying, “Are you drunk? She spent my money to fly to Shanghai to sleep with a foreigner, and you want me to help her minimize the damage?” Sophie’s best friend broke down, “Why don’t you understand! She betrayed you, yes, but now only you can save her! Hurry up and post the thread! If you delay any longer, her life will be ruined by you!” I hung up directly. My roommate also heard what Sophie’s best friend said. He said in shock, “How can this woman be so stupid and so evil!” I said, “She’s not stupid.” It had been so long since the incident happened. As Sophie’s best friend, claiming to care about her sister, she didn’t call to inform her but instead asked me to post a thread. What does this mean? It means she was afraid of appearing in the livestream herself and getting criticized, so she wanted me to take the bullet! Sophie’s best friend, whom I hung up on, bombarded me with text messages. “Hurry up and help her! Didn’t you love her?” “Since you loved her, even if she doesn’t love you, you should do something for her, even just a little bit!” “Don’t be so irresponsible. Men should be magnanimous!” “She is the victim! She is being livestreamed in front of the whole world. Even if you don’t post, at least call her to stop all this! Don’t let her take off her clothes. If that gets recorded, she won’t be able to live!” I got annoyed reading her messages and blocked her number directly, then looked at the phone screen. Things had spiraled out of control. Because Sophie’s livestream video was already trending in over a dozen countries. The whole world was watching this joke, the whole world was learning what an Easy Girl from China looks like! My roommate hesitated for a moment and said, “Do you want to call and stop all this?” I sighed and said, “One thought can be kind, one thought can be evil. Whatever the final outcome is, let her choose for herself.” I finally picked up my phone and dialed Sophie’s number. Right now, she was trending in over a dozen countries. The world was waiting to see her take off her clothes and become that cheap girl. The choice was entirely in her own hands. In the livestream, Sophie glanced at her phone and said, “My boyfriend is calling again.” The foreigner laughed loudly and actually undid the buttons of Sophie’s top. Sophie picked up the phone with an excited look on her face, panting as she spoke to me, “Baby, what’s wrong?” I said, “Your best friend admitted it to me. I know you cheated.” In an instant, the smile on Sophie’s face froze. I didn’t tell her she was being livestreamed. Everything could still be saved. It all depended on how she chose. I said, “I treated you so well, yet you slept with a foreigner you met for one day. I just calculated it. During our relationship, I spent twenty thousand yuan on you. Please return it to me. If you don’t have that much cash on hand, write me an IOU.” I had made up my mind. As long as Sophie agreed to return the money, we would part on good terms. For the sake of our past affection, I was willing to save her this once. However, Sophie suddenly sneered. She said, “Since you know everything, we have nothing more to say. Originally, I felt a little guilty, but now I don’t feel guilty at all. Turns out you are such a terrible man.” I was stunned. Where was her guilt? If she felt guilty, would she be embracing and kissing that foreigner while talking to me on the phone? And one thing I didn’t understand. I said, “How am I terrible?” Sophie said disdainfully, “Asking for money back after a breakup? Do you think I’m a prostitute? Didn’t your parents teach you to respect girls? Doesn’t the time I wasted need compensation?” I said in shock, “At least prostitutes get paid. You traveled a thousand miles to give it away for free. Did you ask him for money? You’re worse than a prostitute.” Sophie instantly flew into a rage. She roared, “Fuck off! You disgusting thing, don’t come looking for insults!” The phone was rudely hung up by her. The foreigner asked, “Did your boyfriend find out?” Sophie hugged the foreigner’s neck and said coquettishly, “I don’t have a boyfriend anymore. How do you plan to compensate me?” The foreigner asked teasingly, “How do you want me to compensate you?” Sophie said, “I can’t bear to leave you. From now on, every time you come to China, give me a call, and I’ll run to find you, okay?” The foreigner raised his hand and actually slapped Sophie across the face. He pinched her cheek and said, “You are really a slutty girl.” Sophie was slapped, but instead of being angry, she obsessively sucked on the foreigner’s finger and said, “Yeah, I am that kind of girl. So how do you want to punish me?” I was truly about to throw up from this scene. I remembered one day, Sophie crossed the street without looking at the traffic lights and was almost hit by a car. I grabbed her arm and pulled her back. She didn’t thank me. Instead, she started blaming me, scolding me for using too much force and hurting her arm. Yes, I saved her life, but she scolded me for hurting her. But now?

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