Author: Momo Chan

The day before her graduation party, my sister was raped and murdered in a back alley. And I was trapped in that day forever. Countless times, I thought, “If only I hadn’t wanted ice cream,” “If only I hadn’t taken the shortcut to get home faster…” maybe she would still be alive. When I opened my eyes again… I was back in that summer. 1 That year, it was the hottest summer on record. The temperature hit 106 degrees. My sister, Maya, was the top scorer in the city. I had just barely scraped into a prestigious high school. Our future was bright. Maya’s familiar voice reached my ears again after ten years: “Take a shortcut? Don’t you want to catch Grey’s Anatomy at 7:30?” Tears gushed out uncontrollably. Through my blurry vision, the clock on the wall behind Maya read 7:15 PM… The countdown to death had begun! I shuddered and almost screamed: “No! Mom and Dad said those alleys are dangerous!” Maya was startled by my outburst: “Since when are you such a chicken, Dodo?” “Okay, okay, we won’t take the shortcut. Don’t cry!” I looked at Maya’s vivid, lively face. The face that had been crushed and covered in blood in my nightmares countless times. I swore in my heart. This time, I absolutely would not let anything happen to Maya! 2 My voice was tight: “I saw on the news recently that bad things happen in those alleys. Let’s stick to the main road!” Maya chuckled: “Alright, safety first. Good job!” She spoke to me like I was a child. She was only three years older than me. She was just a kid too, but she always yielded to me, spoiled me. And because of me, she lost her future. I stared at the digital watch on my wrist. 7:17 PM. In my past life, not wanting to miss the drama at 7:30, I insisted on taking a shortcut and dragged Maya into the alley. At a fork in the alley, a dark figure suddenly lunged out and covered Maya’s mouth with a towel. I screamed my lungs out, but no one answered in the deserted alley. Maya slumped to the ground. The man picked up a brick and smashed it into my head. I fell into a stinking pile of garbage, like a dying fish, watching helplessly as Maya was stripped and murdered. Thinking of this, I couldn’t stop shivering. It was still light out at this time in summer, and there were plenty of pedestrians on the street. Street vendors were selling hot dogs and pretzels on the sidewalks. My palms were sweating profusely. My throat was dry. I kept comforting myself. He wouldn’t dare to commit a crime in broad daylight, right? Maya turned to look at me: “Dodo, I noticed you haven’t said a word the whole way. Did the sun rise in the west today?” Yeah, I used to be a chatterbox. I could write a dissertation on whether Team Edward or Team Jacob was better. When Maya called me “Little Sparrow,” I proudly declared I would become a teacher even more talkative than her homeroom teacher. Maya laughed, saying, “I pity the class that gets you.” That noisy me, full of longing for the future… Died with Maya that summer. The smile was still on Maya’s face. “Wait, don’t tell me—” Her voice cut off abruptly. All expression on Maya’s face froze instantly, eyes widening in shock. Bright red blood sprayed from her slender neck. She opened her mouth, seeming to want to grab something, and fell straight forward. “Ah—” “Psycho—” “Murder—” Chaos erupted around us, screams filling the air. My mind went blank. A cold blade plunged fiercely into my back. The immense impact made me stumble forward. I turned my head in excruciating pain— It was that masked man! Those eyes were staring straight at me. Why! Why did we meet him again this time! He roared like a beast: “B*tches!” “You all deserve to die!” 3 In my past life, he was the same. While stripping Maya, he kept cursing. “Deserved!” “I’m doing God’s work!” “Women deserve to die!” As if he harbored monstrous hatred. But we didn’t even know him… Opening my eyes again, I gasped for air. Looking around, I was back in the convenience store. The clock on the wall read 7:15 PM. Maya’s voice rang out again: “Take a shortcut? Don’t you want to catch Grey’s Anatomy at 7:30?” I immediately rushed inside the store, turning back to Maya: “I want to see what snacks they have.” Maya followed me in, looking puzzled: “Weird. Usually, you can’t even miss the opening theme.” I thought hard. Maybe that killer just wanted to commit a random crime? Not finding anyone in the alley, he went to the main street. In the first timeline, when the police found him, he had already committed suicide at home. The police came to my house with a photo asking if I knew him. I had never seen the man in the photo. Neither Maya nor I could have known him. It shouldn’t be a revenge killing… I read in detective novels that people like him might just hate society. So this time, we’ll stay in the store a bit longer. Surely we can avoid him, right? 4 I touched every bag of chips on the shelf, picked it up, put it down. That summer, the packaging for Lay’s chips hadn’t changed yet. In elementary school, Maya, being in middle school, had a daily allowance of two dollars. It was a huge sum to me. I pestered her to buy me chips. One bag each. It tasted better than any Michelin-starred meal. “Miss.” A little boy looked up and pleaded: “Can you help me get the magic pills?” I froze: “Magic pills?” Maya chuckled, reaching up to grab a pack of Maltesers and handing it to the boy. The boy jumped happily: “With these magic pills, mom and I can live forever!” Magic pills… I used to chase Maya around, shouting spells from Harry Potter. The sunset completely covered the small shop. Memories of the past glowed golden in the evening light. Interrupted suddenly by the shop owner’s voice— “What do you need?” Then a raspy voice: “Lighter.” The owner said lazily: “Two bucks.” I instinctively peeked out from the aisle. It was him. He was still wearing a mask! He took the lighter, excitement flashing in his eyes, and unscrewed the cap of the water bottle in his hand. The owner shouted: “Hey! What are you doing!” Immense fear struck me. I screamed at the top of my lungs: “Run!” “He’s crazy!” But it was too late. The convenience store was instantly engulfed in flames. The smile on Maya’s face was replaced by terror in a split second. A woman’s cry came from outside. “Save my son! He’s only five, he’s still inside!” “Please, save him!” … 5 4 dead, 1 injured in the convenience store fire. In this sudden disaster, I was the sole survivor. Burns covering 90% of my body left me lying in a hospital bed all day. Sinking into endless regret. My self-righteousness not only failed to save Maya… But killed more innocent people. In the first timeline, the memory of the shop owner giving us wedding candy was still vivid. Her face was all smiles: “My brat is finally getting married! You all must come to the wedding next month!” And now? She would never see her son get married. And that little boy, his mom used to complain to neighbors at the street corner: “All he does is play! Got a zero on his test! I’m so mad.” Just yesterday, she jumped from the roof, leaving a long letter on the table. She said in her next life, she still wants to be his mom. I killed them. My parents’ hair turned white overnight. My once-talkative father became silent, and my mother’s eyes were swollen like walnuts, yet she forced herself to comfort me: “Don’t be scared, Dodo… being alive is good, being alive is good…” “Mom and Dad will always be with you…” Neighbors whispered at the door: “Sigh, the Luo family is cursed. Their eldest daughter could have gone to Ivy League.” “Exactly. The younger one got into a top high school too, and now…” “How will they live… a good family, ruined.” Yes. A good family ruined. I am everyone’s curse. Why wasn’t it me who died? Maya’s classmates, some held acceptance letters from top universities, becoming elites in big tech companies years later. Some became influencers with millions of followers. Some started businesses, went abroad, started families… Only my sister. Only she was left forever, lonely, in that hottest summer. When I was about to drown in despair, a man in uniform entered the ward. He walked to my bed, holding a photo of a man, looking solemn: “Do you know this person?” That face… I wanted to tear him to pieces! In the first timeline. They had already asked me with this photo. The man in the photo had an extremely ordinary, dull face. Corners of his mouth slightly drooping. Looked like he was about our age. I searched my memory for this face again. But I really didn’t know him. I shook my head. The police officer frowned tightly. His next words made me gasp. “However, when we investigated his home, we found something extremely unusual.” “His room was covered with photos of your sister!” My heart stopped. “And in his diary, we found a lot of content about your sister. He described your sister, Maya, as his girlfriend.” “Think carefully, did your sister ever mention this person?” No! Impossible! Absolutely impossible! She said before college, she would only focus on her studies! I struggled, wanting to ask more— What else was written in his diary? What was his motive? The police officer’s lips were still moving, but I couldn’t hear any sound. My vision went black.

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My mom never let me eat junk food. After getting sucked into a horror game, I found myself hiding in a convenience store, a double cheeseburger in one hand and a large boba milk tea in the other. While other players were scrambling for their lives as the Final Boss descended, I was determined to die on a full stomach. I didn’t stop chewing. Suddenly, the Boss roared: “Bean! You’re eating that trash again?!” Holy crap. Mom? 1 It took me exactly 0.1 seconds to accept my fate after getting pulled into this survival horror game. Why? Because I got lucky. I spawned in a convenience store. I looked around. Potato chips, fried chicken, burgers, pizza… It was all seducing me. My mom never let me touch this stuff. She called it “garbage for your gut.” But then she died, I became an orphan, and I was too broke to afford it anyway. A player next to me whispered, trembling, “There’s definitely something wrong with this food! Don’t fall for it! Everything in a horror game is a trap!” Really? I looked at the burger sitting right in front of me. It smelled heavenly. My stomach growled. Grrr. It’s just a cute little burger. What could possibly go wrong? Eating poison is better than starving to death. So, I picked it up and took a huge bite. Juicy patty, fresh lettuce—satisfaction. I demolished the burger in seconds, then reached for a bag of chips. Crunch. So crisp. So salty. I washed it down with a grape-flavored boba tea. Life was good. Seeing me eat with such gusto, the others started getting restless. “Is it actually safe?” “I’ve run so many dungeons, I’ve never seen edible food.” “But… look how happy she looks.” They stared at me. When I reached for a pack of spicy jerky, they finally broke. “Give me that self-heating hot pot!” “I want the strawberry milk!” “Pass me the cup noodles! Beef flavor!” The store was instantly filled with the aroma of MSG and grease. But a second later, they all started puking. “What the hell?! There’s hair in these noodles! Blargh.” “This isn’t milk… Gag… it’s… blood…” “Help! Get it away! There are fingers in this box! And an eyeball!” I stared at the mess in front of them, dumbfounded. The spicy jerky in my hand hadn’t changed. It was oily, spicy, and delicious. Definitely just jerky. The others looked at me with suspicion. “Yours is fine?” I offered a piece kindly. “You can try it.” They backed away like I was the plague. “This is sus. Why does she get special treatment?” “I heard this dungeon buffs little girls. It’s creepy.” Suddenly, someone had a dark thought. Their eyes glinted cold. “Hey… what if we kill her?” “Then her inventory becomes ours.” My cheeks were stuffed like a chipmunk. “Huh? Me?” Tears instantly streamed down my face. I garbled out, “Don’t kill me! I have no dad, no mom, I just wanted a full meal for once! Can’t you let me live a little longer?” Look, when you’re out in the world, sometimes you gotta play the pathetic card. A big, burly guy couldn’t watch anymore. He stepped in. “Forget it. Why are you bullying a little girl? Even if you take her stuff, who says you can eat it?” “The Boss hasn’t even shown up yet. One more person is one more meat shield.” And just like that, they didn’t kill me. For three days, I didn’t take a single step out of that store. After some testing, we realized that only the hot dogs I personally grilled were safe to eat. So, I set up a stall. The others protected me. I fed them. 2 This horror game ran on a points system. More points meant stronger skills. Reach 10,000 points, and you get to return to the real world. Everyone else earned points by fighting ghosts. I earned points by selling sizzling hot dogs. Sell one, eat one as a reward. One day, everyone went out to hunt, leaving me alone in the store. Suddenly, the door was smashed open. My sign—”Sizzling Dogs, 2 Points Each”—fell to the ground and shattered. I was furious. But the intruders were holding high-level weapons and looked like they meant business. I immediately turned into a coward. Their leader grinned, “There really are supplies here! Haha, and they only left one girl to guard it.” “Get her. Kill her, and this place is ours.” Kill me? Again? I was out of options. Just as his blade was about to come down on my head, a mechanical chime rang through the air. [DING.] [ATTENTION PLAYERS. THE DUNGEON BOSS IS APPROACHING.] [WARNING! WARNING!] A Boss? Since when did this game have a roaming Boss? Wait, if the Boss is coming, what do I do? I can’t fight. I can’t run. I hesitated for exactly one second before deciding to just lay flat. Whatever. Everyone dies eventually. The gang panicked. “I thought the Boss was dormant! Why is it awake?” “Just our luck! Why now?” “Boss, think of something!” “I don’t want to die here! I want to go home!” They tried to run, but an invisible force locked everyone inside the store. But… this pressure felt weirdly familiar to me. I took a bite of a hot dog. Yeah, definitely familiar. I took a sip of boba. Tsk. I remembered. This chill down my spine was the exact feeling I got when my mom used to catch me sneaking snacks. The store was enveloped in a dark gloom. The bad guys were paralyzed with fear, collapsing on the floor. I leaned against the counter, ignoring the black fog creeping toward me. “Hmph. If I’m gonna die, I’m gonna die full.” Burp. “Man, I actually kinda miss my mom. Will I see her if I die?” Thinking of that possibility, I wasn’t scared anymore. My appetite surged. I reached under the table for a hidden chocolate bar. I wanted to die sweet. Suddenly, a furious voice exploded from the air: “Gu Bean! You are eating that trash again!” Holy crap. Mom?! Reflexively, I hid the snacks behind my back. I looked around. Nothing but black fog. I whispered tentatively, “Mom?” “Mom, is that you?!” My mom was dead. Does your mom really come to pick you up before you die? That’s awesome! Tears of joy shot out of my eyes. I screamed, “Mommy! You finally came for me!” “Mommy, Mommy, where are you?” “I was wrong! I won’t sneak snacks anymore!” “Mommy look, I grew taller! Oh, and I got first place in my finals! Teacher says I’m smart, I can definitely get into an Ivy League school!” “Mommy, I’m gonna make so much money, you won’t have to work anymore!” But no matter how much I shouted, there was no response. The black fog thickened. I started to suffocate. Death was closing in, but Mom wasn’t answering. I felt sad. I mumbled, “Mommy… I miss you so much.” Fate is cruel. I was adopted. Mom raised me all on her own. When I started middle school, she ran into a robber on her way home from work. She died on the spot. I became an orphan again. Then, on my sixteenth birthday, while buying a slice of cake, I got stabbed by some psycho taking revenge on society. Everyone enters the horror game for a reason. The rule is: escape the game, revive in reality. I didn’t really care about living. I just missed my mom. Suddenly, a human shape materialized in the black fog. A red floral dress. Gentle features. Kind eyes. She stood in front of me, stunned for a long moment, before whispering, “Bean… you’ve grown so big.” 3 It really was Mom! I threw myself at her, but instead of a warm hug, I felt like I was drowning. I couldn’t breathe. Mom quickly stepped back. “Sorry, sorry! Bean, I forgot. I can’t hold you tight right now.” She was one with the black fog. The tighter she held me, the more fog I inhaled, the faster I suffocated. I had so much to say to her. She glanced at the snacks around me and started counting, frowning deeply. “Five hot dog sticks, two bottles of milk, three instant hot pots, three bags of chips… Bean, you’re eating too much.” I felt guilty. “I can’t help it, Mom. I was hungry.” “And you never let me eat this stuff before, so I lost control…” Mom interrupted me. “Eat. Just eat. Do you feel sick anywhere?” My stomach used to be incredibly sensitive. Before Mom adopted me, I ate out of garbage cans. It ruined my gut. As a kid, even an egg would make me throw up. That’s why Mom controlled my diet so strictly. Science-based feeding. Once, I snuck some spicy strips and ended up in the ER, puking and having diarrhea. I saw Mom crying secretly that night. I never asked for junk food again. But weirdly, eating all this trash in the game didn’t hurt at all. I ate, slept, ate again. I was living the life of a piglet. Mom sighed in relief, then looked at me seriously. “Bean, are you willing to come find me?” I nodded furiously. “Yes! Yes! Yes! Mommy, Mommy, Mommy!” Mom said her current form was just a projection. Her real self was somewhere else. She gave me a route and put a Peace Amulet around my neck. She said it could block death once. Before she left, she wasn’t reassured, so she spawned a massive pile of food out of thin air. “Bean, remember what I told you. Eat well, sleep on time, drink water. And… be a coward when you need to be. Don’t worry, Mom will protect you.” Mom’s figure blurred, her voice fading. Finally, the black fog retreated like a tide. Looking at the unchanged store, I felt dazed. Did I really just see Mom? “Bean! Are you okay?!” My companions were back. The one calling me was the burly guy, Big Mike. There were corpses scattered on the floor, blood everywhere. The bandits were dead. But the ground around my feet was spotless. Big Mike was nervous. “Kid, how did these guys die? Did the Boss show up? How… how are you alive?” The others looked at me with new suspicion. The amulet on my neck felt warm. I grinned at Big Mike. “My mom told me to go find her. Will you guys come with me?” Mom said it wasn’t safe alone. I needed bodyguards. Besides, without my hot dogs, they couldn’t eat anything safe. So I laid out my terms: “Come with me, and I’ll cover your meals.” No one wanted to starve to death in a horror game. But after hearing the route, Big Mike hesitated. “Bean… the route you described… it’s full of Triple-S Rank anomalies.” 4 Huh? Is it hard? No wonder Mom gave me a skill: Infinite Hot Dog Spawning. Sprinkle some chili powder… chef’s kiss. Mom was definitely afraid I’d go hungry. Big Mike thought about it and said, “Bean, I know you miss your mom. But is it possible that wasn’t your mom? What if it’s a demon tricking you?” Would it? Trick me for what? Scamming a minor is highly unethical. Besides, I’d made up my mind. Even if it was a scammer, I was going. What if it was Mom? Big Mike hesitated, then slammed his fist into his palm. “Screw it. I’ll go!” I was surprised. Big Mike smiled, though his eyes were tearing up. “The nearby monsters give low points. I can’t waste time… My wife is waiting for me.” Mentioning his wife, a blush appeared on his dark, rugged face. Hearing this, others stepped up. “I’ll go too. My kid is waiting. She’s only six!” “I’m in. This place is hell, I’m not sitting here waiting to die.” “Take me!” “I’m following the Hot Dog Princess. I don’t wanna starve.” Soon, our squad arrived at the first stop: The Lame Old Lady’s Cabin. As soon as we approached, the smell of rot hit us. Grey skies. Broken windows. Howling wind. A crow in a tree cawed, shook its wings, and flew off. The others circled me (the cook) for protection. Big Mike warned, “The Lame Old Lady is high level. A fully geared team of a hundred was wiped out here once. Careful.” The temperature dropped. Everyone hugged their arms. “Why is it so cold?” “Where is she? Show yourself!” The rickety wooden door slammed shut behind us. Bang. A rasping, slow voice came from the house: “Kind travelers… can you help me build a fire?” The Lame Old Lady appeared. Her face was drooping, features indistinguishable, covered in black blood. We froze. Suddenly, she raged, her voice piercing: “You won’t even help with a small favor? Then die!” A gale force wind blew. The old lady moved with unnatural speed, growing several times in size. Players hacked at her with axes and knives. Because the commotion attracted nearby players wanting to steal the boss kill, the scene became chaotic. I huddled in a safe corner. I noticed something. The more people attacked her, the stronger she got. Eventually, her voice boomed: “You all deserve to die! Be buried with me!” Screams echoed. Blood stained the ground. Bodies vanished after death, leaving only stains. In the end, only a few people managed to drag me out. Big Mike was heavily injured. He leaned against a tree in our camp, crying. “Honey… I don’t think I can make it back…” Recalling what happened, I had a theory. At midnight, I clutched the amulet. While everyone slept, I snuck back to the Lame Old Lady’s cabin. Here, the sky was permanently stuck in twilight. The old lady was by the well, drawing water. Sensing me, her body didn’t move, but her head spun 180 degrees. She grinned stiffly. “Young one… can you help me carry the water inside? I want to take a bath.”

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My mom has a brain tumor. My dad just got laid off. Meanwhile, the billionaire trust-fund baby I’m dating is pretending to be broke, making me DoorDash to support him. I overheard him joking with his friends: “The delivery girl is the best kind. She puts out on the first date without costing me a dime.” “You act a little pathetic, and she feels sorry for you. She’s practically paying me to date her.” My heart shattered. But then, a notification chimed in my ear: [Congratulations, Host. You have bound the “Pretend Poor, Get 100x Cashback” System.] [From now on, every cent you spend on Julian will be returned to your account 100x.] That night, I bought him a $1,500 tie. As my bank balance exploded by the millions, I overheard him complaining to a friend: “So annoying. I lost a $150,000 watch at the golf course this afternoon.” 1 I was delivering an order to an exclusive private members’ club when I saw my boyfriend sitting in the center of the VIP booth. He waved his hand and popped a bottle of vintage wine worth $50,000. That was two years of my salary. I desperately wanted to convince myself that it wasn’t Julian. But he was wearing the cheap, clearance-rack shirt I had bought him. Someone looked him up and down, laughing. “Julian, you’ve been playing the ‘starving artist’ game with that delivery girl for two years. Aren’t you bored yet?” “You don’t get it.” He swirled his wine glass, looking every bit the arrogance prince he was. “These girls who’ve been single since birth are pure. They’re naive, clean. She gave it up without me spending a penny.” “She actually feels bad for me. She rushes to spend her own money on me. She’s not like those gold diggers who only want cash.” He paused, the corner of his lips curling up. “Honestly, after a while, it gets kind of addictive.” The people around him burst into laughter. “That’s hilarious. She’s cheaper than a hooker!” “Julian talks a big game, but he was ruthless when he fired her dad.” “Yeah, her mom’s sick, her dad’s laid off, and Julian’s pretending to be unemployed while she feeds him. Isn’t that a bit cruel?” I trembled. I never realized that Julian was that Julian—heir to the Sterling Group. My dad had worked at a Sterling subsidiary his whole life. Six months ago, he was fired for no reason. My dad aged ten years overnight. I felt a sting in my nose. I didn’t understand why Julian would do this. But Julian, sitting on the velvet sofa, just laughed lightly. “If I don’t make her life hard, how can I test how much she loves me?” The room roared with laughter again. “True. Poor people are used to suffering anyway. A little more won’t kill them.” “So Julian is just building her character. Did the delivery girl say thank you?” The laughter was piercing. Julian’s mocking expression was the knife. My heart ached violently, and then, a mechanical voice rang in my brain: [Congratulations, Host. You have awakened the Pretend Poor 100x Cashback System.] [From now on, every penny you spend on Julian will be legally returned to your account at 100 times the value.] [Please confirm binding.] I looked at Julian in the booth. Someone asked him, “Of all the women you’ve tested, this delivery girl has lasted the longest, right?” “For real. You think this gutter rat might actually fly up the branch and become Mrs. Sterling?” Everyone looked at Julian. He just scoffed. “Who would be stupid enough to take a game seriously?” His tone was lazy, indifferent. “When I get bored, I’ll toss her a few bucks and dump her.” My heart died right there. [Beep. Countdown: 3 seconds. Please choose.] I didn’t hesitate. I gritted my teeth. “Bind the system.” 2 The moment I stepped out of the club, my parents called. “Chloe, honey, don’t send so much money home…” “Keep it for yourself. If you starve, Mom and Dad will be heartbroken.” I looked down at the takeout orders hanging off my scooter. “It’s okay, Mom, Dad. I’m working on a big project recently. The company loves me. I have plenty of bonuses.” A guilty sigh came from the other end. “It’s all my fault. If I wasn’t so useless, if the company hadn’t fired me, you wouldn’t have to work so hard.” I held back tears. My dad worked hard his whole life. Julian treated his livelihood like a game, a prop for his twisted amusement. Why do the poor deserve to be played with like this? I clenched my fist, hatred burning in my chest. On the other end of the line, I heard a suppressed groan of pain. “Mom, is your head hurting again?” She was diagnosed with a rare brain tumor years ago. Not immediately fatal, but agonizing. She needed imported painkillers just to function. The only cure was surgery. Surgery that cost a fortune—at least $150,000 to start. My mom tried to hide it, but her voice was shaking. My eyes were wet, but my voice was steady. “Mom, don’t worry. I will cure you.” After hanging up, I called Julian immediately. “Jules, where are you?” The background noise on his end was loud, but he didn’t skip a beat. “I’m waiting for an interview. Is it urgent?” My voice smiled, but my eyes were cold. “Come home early tonight. I have a surprise for you.” 3 When Julian came home, he hugged me from behind. He tilted his head. “What surprise?” I smiled, acting mysterious, and told him to close his eyes. Gently, I tied a tie around his neck. A niche luxury brand. A tie worth five figures. When he opened his eyes, he was genuinely surprised. He knew that spending $1,500 on a tie was an impossible luxury for someone like me. He stared at me, hesitating. His eyes asked, Why did you buy me something this expensive? I smiled innocently, rubbing his face. “Because you deserve the best.” Julian had once put this tie in his online cart, and I had accidentally seen it. Back then, he stammered, “I’ve never worn anything this nice. Just putting it in the cart to dream.” Julian seemed dazed. “Just because I mentioned it once?” I looked at him with total devotion. “If you say it, I take it to heart.” His gaze softened. The emotion on his face didn’t look fake. “Chloe.” He buried his face in my neck, murmuring. “You are so good to me.” I smirked, feeling satisfied. Because at that exact moment, the notification chimed in my head: [Congratulations, Host. $150,000 has been deposited into your bank account.] 4 Julian couldn’t stop touching the tie. He took a dozen selfies in the mirror before finally taking it off to shower. He left his phone wedged in the sofa cushions. I slid the screen open. I saw the message he sent to his “The Boys” group chat. He posted ten photos of the tie. “See this? The hillbilly bought it.” The group responded immediately: “Not bad. The delivery girl finally has some taste.” “She really spent it all, huh? That’s gotta be months of her wages.” “Running thousands of deliveries just to buy a tie. She’s obsessed with you, Julian.” Julian’s replies were smug. “I mentioned it once, and she remembered.” “Ask yourselves, which of your women would do that for you?” The group chimed in with envy: “I’m actually jealous. Maybe I should pretend to be poor to find a girl.” “I’m tempted. I’m tired of fancy meals; maybe I need a taste of something plain.” Nausea rolled in my stomach. I used to trust Julian so much I never checked his phone. If I had, I would have seen he had two accounts. One with monthly bills in the hundreds of thousands, posting luxury cars and parties. The other, pretending to be broke, posting only about me. I scrolled up. It got more disgusting. Julian pretended to be unemployed, eating my food, living in my apartment, faking sympathy: “Baby, I’m sorry I’m a burden. I’ll try hard to find a job so you don’t have to work so hard.” In reality, his “interviews” were just parties at high-end clubs. A single bottle of wine he opened for fun cost more than I made in years. He’d come home satisfied, pretend to be depressed about the “failed interview,” and test me: “I’m sorry, I’m useless. I don’t deserve you.” And stupid me, fresh from delivering orders under the scorching sun, would comfort him softly. Julian played me like a fiddle. All for that one line: “I want to test how much she loves me.” I put the phone down, disgusted. Julian walked out of the bathroom in a towel. He scanned the room. “Babe, have you seen my watch?” I shook my head. He frowned, cursing under his breath. “Damn it, must have lost it outside.” Julian loved reading watch magazines. I used to look at them with him. Once, I pointed at the watch on his wrist and a Patek Philippe in the magazine worth $150,000. “These look so similar.” “Dummy, it’s a high-quality fake.” He tapped my nose, smiling sweetly. “If this was actually worth a hundred grand, I’d pawn it immediately.” “I’d pay for Mom’s surgery so you wouldn’t have to work.” It was a lie, but it sounded sweet at the time. Now, it was just a joke. Who knew the watch was actually worth $150,000? Wait. $150,000? My heart skipped a beat. The System chimed in right on time: [Host is clever! You guessed right.] [The System is law-abiding. We don’t print money.] [The money returned to your account is actually drained from Julian’s assets.] 5 Julian lost a $150,000 watch. But he just shrugged it off. “Whatever, it’s just a watch. I’ll buy another one later.” I froze. $150,000. That was my mother’s life. I worked 9-to-6, delivered food at night, and did odd jobs on weekends. Three jobs. Six hours of sleep. I worked myself to the bone, and I still couldn’t scrape together the surgery fee. To him, it was a toy he didn’t mind losing. I stared at his back and smiled bitterly. Julian, oh Julian. You love pretending to be poor and playing me like a monkey? Since you love acting so much, I don’t mind making you actually poor. I started treating Julian like a king. Whatever he mentioned, whatever he wanted. I bought it. The System had reminded me: [Only money spent on items Julian actively requests or mentions will trigger the 100x return.] Maybe I was too good to him. His eyes started to change. He would often stare at me and ask seriously, “Chloe, why are you so good to me?” I would cup his face, faking pure adoration. “Because I love you 100%. I’d do anything for you.” He didn’t even realize he was falling for me. When my earnings hit $5 Million, the System unlocked a reward: Remote Monitoring. I could now see and hear Julian whenever I wanted. In the private club, Julian was back in the VIP seat. His bros were staring at the new watch on his wrist. “Julian, I thought you wouldn’t wear anything less than a Patek?” “Don’t remind me. I lost that thing.” Julian glanced at his new watch—a $5,000 piece I bought him—and actually smiled. “But honestly, after wearing flashy stuff for so long, something simple isn’t bad.” His friends weren’t stupid. Julian would never buy a “cheap” $5,000 watch. Someone bought it for him. They started mocking him. “It’s a cheap watch. Don’t tell me you’re falling for the delivery girl over some small favors?” “Exactly. Buying you gifts isn’t a real test. You need a big test!” “Poor people value money over life. If she’s willing to give you her mom’s surgery money, that’s true love!” Some people felt uncomfortable. “Come on, that’s too much. She saved that money for years. You want to ruin her family?” “Joking about her mom’s life is low.” “Chill,” someone laughed. “Does Julian need her pennies? It’s just a test. He’ll give it back.” “Yeah, if she passes, maybe Julian will actually reward her.” Julian twisted the watch on his wrist and smirked. “Fine. If she passes this test, I’ll reward her by making her my official girlfriend.” He scanned the room, his tone turning sharp. “And you’ll all have to call her Sister-in-law.” “If I hear anyone call her ‘delivery girl’ again, I’ll cut out your tongues.” Silence filled the room. When Julian left to pick me up from work, they started whispering again. “Julian is actually catching feelings for the delivery girl.” “He’s been living in a rental with her for two years instead of his mansion. It’s obvious.” “Maybe the hillbilly really will become Mrs. Sterling.” I laughed. Mrs. Sterling? If Julian keeps this up, he won’t be inheriting an empire. He’ll be inheriting an electric scooter to deliver noodles.

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I transmigrated into a spicy romance novel as the hot, young stepmom. I didn’t expect my sworn enemy to transmigrate too. He ended up as my sleeping husband. The thought of cuckolding my enemy thrilled me. That night, I leaned against the doorframe in a silk slip dress: “Hubby, I’m going to tuck the kid into bed. Don’t wait up.” My enemy shot up in bed: “Don’t you dare!” 1 “Dad.” The male lead, Roman, walked in wearing his varsity jacket and slinging his backpack over one shoulder. He greeted Ryan with a voice like ice. Ryan sat in the living room, his face even darker than Roman’s. I was the only one in the room grinning. I bent slightly to pour tea, using the opportunity to check out Roman as he changed his shoes in the entryway. Tall, long legs, full of youthful energy, and devastatingly handsome. The corners of my mouth crept higher and higher. Roman seemed to sense my gaze, his deep, dark eyes turning toward me. Ryan suddenly stood up, blocking the line of sight between us. “What are you looking at your mother for? Go to your room and do your homework!” Roman didn’t speak, just stared at him coldly. If this were a cultivation novel, I’m pretty sure they’d be shooting eye-daggers at each other. After a tense standoff, Roman let out a low laugh. “Fine.” He went up to the second floor but didn’t go straight to his room. Instead, he leaned against the railing, looking down at me. “Stepmom.” His tone carried a hint of teasing flirtation. “Bring me a glass of milk later, okay?” “Huh?” Being addressed by the male lead for the first time made me nervous. “Sure, I’ll bring it up in a bit.” Ryan looked even more pissed off. “Mom is Mom! What the hell is ‘Stepmom’? Where did you learn that sleazy way of addressing her? Call her Mom!” Roman ignored him and sauntered back to his bedroom with that lazy, arrogant swagger. “Pfft—hahahaha.” I clutched my stomach, laughing so hard I almost fell over. “There is justice in this world! Ryan, I never thought I’d see the day you’d be this helplessly furious! Hahahaha!” 2 Ryan is my sworn enemy. We transmigrated into this book together. He aged ten years, now 37, and gained a 17-year-old son. Great son, really. Very filial. Prays for his dad to die every day. I, on the other hand, am his young, beautiful wife. The kid’s stepmom. According to the plot, Ryan is responsible for being on business trips all year round, working hard to support the family. When he comes home, he’s exhausted, collapses into bed, and snores away. Roman and I could be cooking in the kitchen, the living room, or right next to him, cooking until we don’t know which way is up, and he wouldn’t wake up. Currently, since the male lead is still a minor, we are just in the “secret crushing” phase. 3 I was curled up on the sofa, clutching my stomach and gasping for air from laughing so hard. Ryan walked over with a face like thunder, reaching out to pull the strap of my slip dress back onto my shoulder. “Can’t you pay attention to your image in front of the kid?” “How am I not paying attention to my image?” I retorted. “Did you have to wear this silk slip? When you bent over to pour tea, your chest was…” He stammered for a while, his own face turning red first. “Couldn’t you at least… wear a bra?” “…Dammit, I did!” I stood up, grabbed his arm, and dragged him toward the bedroom. “What are you doing?” Ryan struggled symbolically, his words stiff. “You really think of yourself as my wife? Seduction won’t work on me. I’m not fulfilling any marital duties with you!” That’s what he said, but his feet were moving faster than mine. I dragged him into the walk-in closet, flung open all the wardrobe doors, turned to him and asked, “You tell me, which one is appropriate?” The closet was filled exclusively with low-cut, super-short silk slip dresses. The occasional “outdoor” outfits were all skin-tight, low-cut numbers with garter belts. Basically, clothes no normal person would wear outside. Pure sleaze. Ryan froze, his face turning crimson. I wasn’t done with him. I yanked open a drawer, grabbed a handful of colorful fabric scraps, and threw them at his face like confetti. He examined one puzzledly. Narrow front, wide back, just a few strings. You couldn’t even tell what shape it was supposed to be. “What are these?” He picked up a pendant that looked like an earring. “Underwear! Didn’t you say I wasn’t wearing any?” I grabbed another handful and threw it at his head. “The house is full of this stuff that’s basically wearing nothing. What do you want me to do, huh?” “You wear this kind?” “Ugh—” He dropped the fabric like it burned him. He slammed a hand over his nose and spun around, turning his back to me. His voice was thick when he spoke. “I… I get it. I’ll buy you new ones tomorrow. Just don’t go out for now.” I picked up a piece of fabric from the floor and handed it to him. “Here.” He turned his body further away, hiding his face. “What for?” “Your nosebleed is dripping on the floor. Plug it.” 4 “Tilt your head back a bit.” Ryan sat on the bed while I stood next to him holding tissues, wiping his nosebleed. But the more I wiped, the more it bled. He squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath. The blood flowed backward… “Please stop wiping. If you keep going, I’m going to die of blood loss. Can you just stay away from me?” he groaned, sounding broken. “Like I want to wipe it.” I tossed the tissue onto the bed and turned to heat up milk for Roman. 5 “Roman?” I knocked on the bedroom door. “Come in.” Roman’s voice sounded breathless from inside. I pushed the door open gently. Roman was leaning against the headboard smoking, looking satisfied. The room smelled… post-coital. There were wads of tissues next to his hand, and a few scraps of fabric similar to what I’d just thrown at Ryan’s face. He was making sure I knew exactly what he’d just been doing. “Stepmom.” Our eyes met, and he gave me a predatory smile. Even with my usual boldness, this was overwhelming. I felt a little awkward. “I… I brought your milk.” “Thanks, Stepmom.” He took the glass from me, his cool fingertips brushing against the back of my hand. “No problem. Go to sleep early.” I turned to leave. “Wait.” “Hmm?” I looked back. He downed a mouthful of milk. My gaze involuntarily drifted to his bobbing Adam’s apple. “I can’t finish it. Help me drink it, Stepmom?” “Huh? I don’t really want to…” Before I could say “drink,” he pressed the glass against my lips. “Be good. Drink it.” His voice was hypnotic. “…” If I hadn’t just brought this glass in myself, I’d really suspect there was something weird in it. He poured too fast, and milk trickled down the corner of my mouth onto my chest. I protested mumbled, “Mmh, no more, it’s spilling…” BANG! The bedroom door was kicked open. Ryan stormed in, holding a down jacket, and roared at us: “WHAT ARE YOU DOING!!!” “…” “What’s wrong, Dad?” Roman looked completely unbothered. “Stepmom is drinking my milk.” He looked down at me, a wicked smirk on his lips. “Is it good, Stepmom?” I wiped the milk from my chest and mouth, mumbling, “It’s okay.” With a question that loaded, how else was I supposed to answer? “Good my ass.” Ryan grabbed me, wrapped me in the down jacket. “Pour your own damn milk from now on. Stop ordering your mother around!” He pushed me out of the bedroom and slammed the door. We walked a few steps, then he seemed to remember something and stopped. “Wait here.” He rushed back into Roman’s room. When he came out, he was clutching a ball of fabric scraps, shoving them into my hand with a red face. “Keep your… stuff safe.” “…” I took it and stuffed it into the pocket of the down jacket. “You’re the one who should keep your son safe.” He slapped away my hand as I tried to take off the jacket. “Anyway, you are not allowed in his room alone from now on.” “?” I looked at him, baffled. “Bro, it’s summer. It’s like 100 degrees outside. You can’t expect me to wear this all the time?” “Isn’t the AC on?” He sounded self-righteous. He glanced nervously behind him. “Take it off when you get back to our bedroom. Tomorrow… tomorrow I’ll buy you new clothes.” “…?” I stared at him suspiciously, a thought suddenly popping into my head. “Ryan, you big dummy, you’re so nervous… do you like me?” “??” Ryan’s eyes widened instantly, like a cat whose tail got stepped on. “Summer Lin, what kind of fever dream are you having? “Me, like you? If I liked you, I’d be…” “Be what?” I pressed. He held it in for a long time before barking out, “I’d be your son!” I clearly didn’t believe him, pointing at the heavy jacket. “Then what’s this about?” “I just don’t want you distracting my son from his studies,” he said. “Do you even believe that yourself?” He was silent for a few seconds. “Fine, fine. I just don’t want to be cuckolded by my own son. Is that wrong?” “Let me tell you, Summer Lin,” he said with a stern face. “No one puts a green hat on me.” “NO! ONE!”

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My husband’s “best female friend” went into premature labor and specifically asked for me to deliver the baby. When she needed a blood transfusion and required a family member’s signature, Logan gripped my shoulders, his nails digging into my skin. He screamed: “You must save my wife and child! Or I’ll tear this hospital apart!” I am his wife. Yet he was calling another woman his wife. “Mr. Rhodes, calm down! Dr. Miller is doing her best!” the midwife yelled. “And… isn’t Dr. Miller your wife?” Logan froze for a split second. But only a second. Immediately, he reverted to his frantic state, his grip tightening until I thought my bones would snap. “Lexi means everything to me. If anything happens to her or the kid, I swear I won’t let you off the hook!” he threatened. The midwife tried to defend me. “Mr. Rhodes, how can you treat your actual wife like this for a friend?” Logan’s eyes were bloodshot as he roared, “A wife is worthless to me! I can replace a wife any day, but Lexi is my partner, my soulmate! She is more important than my life!” A sharp, stinging pain spread across my chest. We were married. We had the ceremony, the prenup, and lived together for over a year. But we never signed the official marriage license. He said we’d do it after a two-year “trial period.” I waited patiently for over four hundred days, only for it to boil down to “I can replace a wife any day.” I took a deep breath and slapped him across the face. Hard. His handsome, cold face swelled instantly. His bodyguards rushed forward, but Logan stopped them, glaring at me with red eyes. “You’re a doctor, Susan. Don’t forget your duty.” 1 Logan threatened the hospital’s reputation, so the Chief of Staff forced me back into surgery. In the end, Lexi delivered a baby boy. Logan and Lexi’s actual husband were ecstatic. When I did my rounds wearing a mask, Logan’s younger sister, Lola, was holding the baby, smiling at me. “Thank you for saving Lexi for my brother. You don’t know how much she means to him.” Logan never told his family about my job, so Lola didn’t recognize me behind the surgical mask. She innocently told me the story of Logan and Lexi. She talked about how they’d known each other since they were thirteen, how Lexi was his right hand in business. She even mentioned how depressed Logan was when Lexi got married, and how he “gave up” and married some random woman just to fill the slot. That random woman was me. For the first time, I realized that in everyone’s eyes, Lexi was the indispensable light of his life. I was just the consolation prize he settled for. I let out a low, uncontrolled sob, interrupting Lola. As everyone in the ward turned to look, I pulled off my mask. “Susan? Why are you so loud? Don’t you know Lexi needs rest?” Logan didn’t explain himself. Instead, he stared at me coldly, his voice dripping with disgust. “With that attitude, how are you even a doctor? Come here and apologize to Lexi!” I didn’t respond. I clenched my trembling fingers and turned around. It wasn’t that I was afraid to face him. I just suddenly didn’t want this anymore. Trying to sustain a relationship alone is exhausting. Watching me walk away seemed to anger him further. He turned to his assistant. “Tell the Director to suspend Susan. She can come back to work when she learns how to apologize.” Then, his voice softened as he looked at Lexi. “Did she scare you? Don’t worry. As long as I’m here, no one can bully you.” 2 Luo’s call reached the Director’s office before I did. But I had already printed my resignation letter. The Director frowned, sighing. “Susan, just apologize to Mr. Rhodes. You’re our most promising OB/GYN. A suspension will hurt your record.” I placed my resignation letter on his desk. “Director, I’m resigning. I’m going abroad for my fellowship.” He paused, then nodded. “You should have gone years ago. Logan held you back.” I met Logan at an alumni mixer. He needed a wife to secure a contract; I needed a marriage to give my terminally ill mother peace of mind. We hit it off. I asked to make it legal immediately. He said his company was unstable and didn’t want his potential debts to affect me. I believed him. I signed the agreement and gave him my heart. Later, I found out his company was massive. After he used me to secure that project, he never mentioned our relationship publicly again. To the world, Lexi, who was always by his side, was his partner. I used to fight with him about it. He never comforted me. Instead, he’d grab my face, eyes full of disdain. “You only know how to hold a scalpel. You can’t help me in business. Lexi is different; she has vision. She doesn’t care about titles. While you’re being petty, she’s helping me build an empire. Instead of being jealous, go read a book.” I had angrily shown him my acceptance letter for a PhD program at Harvard Medical School. He had hugged me tight, dominantly declaring, “You’re not going. I forbid it.” I missed my first chance to go because I thought his possessiveness meant he loved me. But in the end? I was just a disposable object. 3 I was finishing my handover. As I saw my last patient out, I ran into Logan picking up Lexi. I looked at them indifferently and didn’t say a word. But Lexi dragged Logan over to me, speaking in that soft, sugary voice. “Susan, thank you so much. Without you, my son and I would have been in danger. I heard Logan lost his temper with you. He’s just like that—he loses control whenever it concerns me. Don’t be mad at him, I apologize on his behalf.” Then, her gaze dropped to my stomach. She adopted the tone of a wise elder. “But really, a woman needs a child to stabilize a family. You should stop working and go home to focus on getting pregnant. Logan, you love kids. Let Susan give you one.” Logan pinched her nose affectionately, smiling teasingly. “She doesn’t have your good fortune.” I knew Lexi baited him into saying that. In the past, I would have fought back. Now, watching their PDA, I just felt tired. I waved my hand dismissively. “I can’t afford that kind of fortune. Mr. Rhodes, please save it all for Miss Lexi.” I walked into the elevator without looking back. Maybe the cold “Mr. Rhodes” triggered him. As I walked out of the hospital, he grabbed my wrist. He tried to drag me into his car, but I slammed my hand against the door, refusing. “Susan, haven’t you made enough of a scene?” “I’m not making a scene.” He frowned at my blank expression. “Lexi’s husband was there. What you said could cause a misunderstanding.” I laughed, disgusted. I pushed him away. “If you were actually afraid of her husband misunderstanding, you wouldn’t have acted like the father in the delivery room, and you wouldn’t be holding her waist right now.” “She’s my best friend. Physical contact is normal,” Logan insisted, arrogant as always. “Is asking her to have your baby normal too?” I scoffed. Logan lost his patience. “If you want to think that way, I can’t stop you.” He got into the car. “You’re emotional. I won’t come home for a few days. We’ll talk when you calm down.” He rolled up the window and drove off. The black sedan disappeared from my sight, just as he completely disappeared from my heart. 4 My visa was processed quickly. The day I booked my flight, Lola found me. Lola was different from her brother. She was innocent and rarely interacted with me, which is why she had praised Lexi that day in the hospital. Once she found out the truth, she stopped associating with Lexi. When I told her I was leaving, she looked sad. “You were with my brother for so long. Can you really let go?” I nodded. “I can.” When you give everything and get nothing but coldness in return, even the strongest heart eventually shatters beyond repair. Seeing I was serious, Lola started crying. She was pregnant by accident. She wanted to tell Logan, but Logan, taking Lexi’s advice, was planning to marry her off to some business partner she hated. She wanted to keep the baby and escape the arranged marriage. She asked if she could come with me. I was surprised. Logan was willing to sacrifice his innocent sister just because Lexi suggested it? It turned out, Lexi really was the only person he wouldn’t sacrifice. Lola cried pitifully, and I agreed. I used my connections to get her into a auditing program at Harvard and used my ID to get her prenatal checkups done. Once the baby was cleared, we flew out. As soon as we landed in Boston, we found our bank accounts were frozen. It was Logan’s classic move. Starve us until we crawl back. He underestimated us. Lola sold her designer bags and watches. I had already secured a waitressing gig at a restaurant near campus. The neighborhood wasn’t the safest at night. One evening after my shift, I noticed a shadow following me. I gripped the pepper spray in my pocket, walking faster toward the main street taxi stand. Just as I reached the curb, a hand grabbed my shoulder. My heart sank. I spun around, aimed the can, and sprayed. “Hiss—!” A man covered his eyes with one hand. In the other, he held up a wallet with a Kuromi sticker on it. In fluent Mandarin, he gasped, “Student… is this your wallet?” 5 The man was Julian Grey, an actor. He was filming on campus, found my wallet, and followed me to return it. I treated him like a stalker. My pepper spray was the heavy-duty kind. His eyes were swollen shut instantly. He held my hand, looking pitiful. “Sister… is all medical student pepper spray this spicy?” I turned beet red. Out of guilt, I brought him back to the small townhouse I rented. Lola was asleep. As I washed his eyes out, I told him not to hyperventilate. His eyes were like a galaxy—deep and starry—now overflowing with tears and saline. “Sister, if I don’t breathe, I’ll die.” Feeling terrible, I worked faster. When I finished, I noticed his face was flushed, his lips turning blue. I touched his forehead. “Julian? What’s wrong? Answer me.” Julian gasped for air like a drowning puppy. “Sister… can I breathe now?” Pfft. He had actually held his breath the entire time because I told him not to hyperventilate. I couldn’t help but laugh, patting his shoulder. “Are you stupid?” Julian shook his head, looking at me seriously. “Sister, you finally smiled. Do you know you look beautiful when you smile?” I froze. It was the first time anyone cared if I smiled. 6 After my parents divorced, I lived with my mother, who had severe OCD and was a perfectionist. She was rigorous in life and work, and she demanded the same of me. I never dared to laugh freely like other girls. When she got cancer, she forced me to date. I chose the calm, mature Logan to please her. On her deathbed, she held my hand and said maybe Logan was different from her—that I should try to be myself. But in the year I lived with Logan, he was just as strict as my mother. He compared me to Lexi constantly. If I relaxed even a little, he’d scold me: “Susan, you’re a married woman and a medical professional. Can you be more mature? If you’re going to laugh like a schoolgirl, don’t come home!” I didn’t want to fight, so I became the person he wanted: serious, cautious, unsmiling.

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On the day his fiancée returned to the country, I confessed my feelings to him. He frowned, rejecting me cold: “Coco, you will only ever be my sister.” Heartbroken, I agreed to go on a date with someone else. Who would have guessed I’d run into my brother and his fiancée at the mall? I steeled myself and introduced the man beside me. “This is my boyfriend.” My brother’s expression instantly turned icy cold. Later, inside a dressing room at the mall. My brother grabbed my waist, pinning me against the mirror. He narrowed his eyes, enunciating each word clearly. “Didn’t you say the one you liked was me?” 1 When I was nine years old, my adoptive mother took me from the orphanage, and I became the adopted daughter of the Pierce family. “From now on, your last name is Pierce. You are Coco Pierce.” They treated me incredibly well. They taught me etiquette, sent me to school, nurtured my talents, broadened my horizons. They raised me like a true heiress. The staff would respectfully call me “Miss Coco.” Everyone said I was lucky, transformed overnight from an ugly duckling into a swan. But all these years, I’ve hidden a shameful secret. I’m in love with Liam. Liam Pierce, the eldest son of the family, my brother in name. He doted on me, practically holding me in the palm of his hand like a princess as I grew up. Living together, growing up together, I fell hopelessly in love with him. I secretly buried these dirty thoughts deep down, terrified anyone would see. 2 Serena was coming back to the States. Liam told me the news while I was eating breakfast. “When?” “Tonight.” I gripped the cup in my hand tightly. Tonight. No wonder he booked out the entire five-star hotel early this morning; it was a welcome party for her. I took a sip of milk, pretending to be nonchalant: “When is she leaving this time?” Liam was silent for a moment: “She finished her studies. She probably won’t leave again this time.” I didn’t make a sound, my fingers gripping my chopsticks turning white from the tension. Sensing my mood, Liam lifted his eyelids, his tone indifferent. “I know you don’t like her, but you’re not a child anymore. She’ll be your sister-in-law sooner or later. Tonight, do you want to come pick her up with your brother?” I didn’t answer. I lowered my head, burying my face almost entirely in the plate in front of me. A long time later, I whispered a response. “Whatever you want.” I’ve never been able to refuse or go against his decisions. Because he is my brother. At LAX. Liam and I waited for almost an hour before picking up the long-overdue Serena. She wore a pink down jacket and a cute, small rabbit fur hat. She looked adorable and playful. Seeing us, she jumped up and waved. “Liam! Coco!” Like a little winter elf. Four years passed in a blink of an eye, and she seemed to have become even more beautiful. I smiled and returned her greeting, but my fingers curled inside my sleeves, digging into my palms. She is the eldest daughter of the Wright family. A darling pampered since childhood. The incredibly prestigious Miss Wright in our social circle. But the reason I was jealous enough to go crazy… Is because she is Liam’s fiancée. On the way back to the hotel, Serena recounted interesting stories from her years abroad. Liam occasionally responded with a sentence or two. They talked and laughed; the scene was very harmonious. I pulled up my scarf to cover my face. Seeing Liam’s smiling face annoyed me. Separated for four years, barely contacting each other. Suddenly they have so much to talk about? The more I thought about it, the more annoyed I got. I pulled down my scarf and offered a “friendly” reminder. “Bro, stop smiling. You’re getting wrinkles.” The sound in the car stopped abruptly, and the atmosphere instantly dropped. Liam glanced at me sideways, his expression unreadable. I pulled my scarf back up to cover my face. Mmm, much better. 3 The welcome banquet was prepared for Serena. Most of the people Liam invited were from our circle, and they all knew Serena. They started flattering her immediately. “Oh my, Miss Wright is finally willing to come back from abroad?” “You came back this time to get married, right? You must invite me for a drink at the wedding!” “Congratulations, congratulations! A match made in heaven!” “Congrats to you two! Wishing you a happy union and a baby soon!” It was supposed to be an ordinary welcome dinner, but some blabbermouth started it. Everyone began congratulating them on the “wedding.” Liam and Serena were surrounded by the crowd and couldn’t move. Annoying. So annoying. My eyes swept over the red wine on the table. Gritting my teeth, I tilted my head back and downed half the bottle. By the time Liam extricated himself from the crowd to look for me… I was already slumped on the sofa, drunk. I heard a very faint sigh by my ear, and then I was scooped up into his arms. Today was a welcome banquet, drinking was inevitable. Liam had booked rooms upstairs early on. Drunk people could just go up and sleep. Who would have thought the first one drunk would be his sister. He carried me all the way to the room. After my butt hit the bed, I wrapped my arms around his neck tightly and wouldn’t let go. Liam’s voice sounded displeased: “Coco, you tricked me?” I slowly opened my eyes. I did drink half that bottle of wine. But because I drank too fast, it hit my gag reflex, and I spat most of it out. As if I’d get drunk. Liam’s eyes were very dark, looking at me with a hint of helplessness. “Making a scene like this, what is it for now?” I lowered my eyes, pausing for a long time before whispering: “Bro.” “After you marry Serena, will you not want me anymore?” Liam sighed, reaching out gently to tuck a stray hair behind my ear. “Coco, you will always be my sister.” I gritted my teeth. I know. I’ve been his sister since I was brought home by Mom at age nine. I was still his sister when he got engaged to Serena at eighteen. Even after he marries Serena in the future, I’ll still be his sister. I curled my fingers tight. Liam frowned slightly, his expression probing. “Coco, what is wrong with you?” I gripped the bedsheets. My heart felt like a tangled mess of hemp rope, twisted and knotted, impossible to sort out. Liam waited a long time but I didn’t speak. He pressed his lips together and straightened up. “Have a good sleep. Tomorrow, brother will take you to eat something good.” With that, he turned to leave. I reached out, grabbing the hem of his coat before my conscious mind could catch up. “But I… I don’t want to be your sister anymore.” “I like you, Bro.” Time seemed to stop at that moment. The room fell into a deathly silence. After a long time, Liam turned his head to look at me. I gripped the corner of his clothes tightly, like a condemned prisoner awaiting sentencing. He lowered his eyes, his gaze pitch-black, like the endless dark night outside. “Coco.” “You will only ever be my sister.” It felt like falling into the deep sea. I struggled desperately to swim up, but my limbs were entangled in seaweed, unable to break free or escape. They dragged me down continuously, to the abyssal depths. Pitch black, endless. Swallowed whole. The hand gripping his coat tightened and loosened, loosened and tightened. Until it ached so much, I slowly let go. Bit by bit, I forced the corners of my mouth up into a smile uglier than crying. “Just kidding with you, Bro.” “I lost a game of Truth or Dare. I had to confess to the first person who hugged me tonight.” “Didn’t expect that person to be you.” “Haha, don’t take it seriously, Bro.” Liam was silent for a long time before raising his eyes to look at me. Neither angry nor annoyed, his voice was cool and clear. “Don’t play that kind of dare again.” I kept smiling. “Okay.” He turned and left, the door slowly closing. Completely cutting me off. 4 It seemed like an insignificant little episode. I said it was a dare, and Liam believed it. We both tacitly chose to forget this incident. I was still the sister he spoiled and pampered. But I was terrified inside. I started gradually avoiding Liam’s kindness, deliberately avoiding being alone with him. I told myself ten thousand times a day he is my brother, I am his sister. We are impossible. I also started trying to accept new people and things. When Julian asked me out for dinner for the 12th time, I agreed. People say the best way to get over a relationship is to start a new one. I tried it, and felt people were right. Julian is a gentleman. He and I got along well in all aspects. We did everything little couples do. Movies, dinner, dates, shopping. Once, while Julian was accompanying me to buy luxury goods, we ran into Liam doing the same. The man’s features were cold and sharp. He looked incredibly noble. Beside him stood Serena in a black long dress. Looking at them like this, they seemed to be wearing couple outfits. I subconsciously wanted to leave. But Serena called my name: “Coco!” I turned around, steeling myself to meet Liam’s gaze. “Bro? Serena.” His gaze shifted to Julian beside me, asking calmly: “Who is this?” I quickly introduced him. “This is my brother, this is my sister-in-law.” “This is Julian, he is my… boyfriend.” Liam’s expression suddenly turned extremely cold at that moment. Run! My brain frantically transmitted this message. But Liam stopped me first. “There’s a small business mixer at the company tomorrow. Mom wants me to take you to see the world.” “Just as well, go into the store and pick a dress to wear tomorrow.” I wanted to say I had one at home, but stopped myself when I met his indifferent gaze. “Okay.” Liam picked the dress. A bright red strapless gown, the color exaggerated and flamboyant. I looked at Liam strangely many times. In Liam’s eyes, there were other colors? Wasn’t he always black or white! In the second-floor fitting room, after changing into the dress, I was about to call the assistant to help me zip up. The door was pushed open from the outside. I turned around, meeting Liam’s pitch-black eyes. Eye to eye, I was so shocked I forgot to scream. By the time I remembered, Liam had already covered my mouth and pinned me against the mirror behind me. Long fingers brought a cool touch. “Bro, what are you doing?” My voice was trembling. Liam narrowed his eyes: “Boyfriend?” “Coco Pierce, you’ve gotten bold?” Can’t I date? Just as the thought popped into my head. Liam grabbed my waist, pulling me hard into his arms. He enunciated word by word, a hint of gnashing teeth in his tone. “Didn’t you say the one you liked was me?” I froze on the spot. In that instant, I even forgot to breathe. “What do you mean?” Liam lowered his eyes. “Literal meaning.” I curled my fingers tight. Does this mean if I like him, I can’t like anyone else? He can get engaged to someone he likes. But I don’t even have the right to like someone else? I pressed my lips together tight. The fitting room was small, Liam’s aura overwhelming. Pressing down on me so hard I could barely breathe. I didn’t speak, he didn’t speak. Just staring at me. In the stalemate, Serena’s voice came from outside. “Coco, are you done changing?” I jolted back to reality. Pushed Liam away. “Done, I’m coming out right now.” Liam kept his eyes lowered, two cold words popping out of his mouth. “Break up.” I turned my head, saying spitefully. “Fine, when you call off the engagement, I’ll break up.”

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I’m a journalist who specializes in the minds of monsters. There was this one serial killer, call sign “X.” He’d butchered seven sex workers, gutted them like fish, and harvested their organs. Interviewing him was my white whale. I dreamed about it. Then the news broke: X was dead. Murdered. The guy who killed him? Ethan Vance. Here’s what I know about Ethan: We were classmates in elementary school. He’s a Ph.D. in Criminal Psychology. The guy was a genius, damn near perfect SAT scores back in the day. His girlfriend is an escort. His little sister vanished in the red-light district years ago. 1 I flew a thousand miles from Chicago to Seattle today just to sit across from Ethan Vance. Ethan is currently being hailed as a hero for taking out “X,” the twisted psycho who terrified the West Coast for five years. X was a copycat, modeling himself after Jack the Ripper. He’d carve an “X” into the victim’s face after removing an organ. Over the last decade, I’ve hit every major penitentiary in the country. I’ve sat down with hundreds of killers. They usually fall into three buckets: lust, vengeance, or passion. Then there’s the fourth bucket: The Deviant. Simple translation: I killed you, and I don’t need a reason. I still remember my first interview. The kid was 19. He killed a runaway foster kid in his rural hometown. I asked him why. He told me: “I was curious. I wanted to see what a human face looks like when the lights go out. What would he say? Would he twitch? Would he claw at the dirt like a dying cat, or whimper and cry like a puppy? I had to know. He was weak, alone. No mommy or daddy to save him. I lured him into the cornfield and shanked him right in the kidney. The look in his eyes… humans are different than animals. More pathetic. He held his side and ran, leaving this long, bright red trail through the stalks. I just walked behind him. Watching him stumble was hilarious. When he bled out and collapsed, I flipped him over. He didn’t look hateful. He looked begging. His last words were, ‘Please, save me.’ I carved my initials into him. I wanted to thank him for being my first. I wanted to be with him forever. To commemorate the occasion, I gouged out his eyes and hid them in the root cellar of my old abandoned house.” That interview stuck with me. But after a decade, the stories got stale. Same old motives. I needed something fresh. I needed a monster like that 19-year-old again. Then X showed up. The first body was missing a heart. An “X” carved on the cheek. The police thought it was a crime of passion. They wasted months looking for ex-boyfriends with “X” in their names. Three months later, another city. Another escort. Liver gone. “X” on the face. Six months later. Another city. Kidney gone. This time, the killer posed her. Legs together, arms crossed over her chest, eyes shut. He painted colorful wings on the pavement around her waist. From above, she looked like she was ascending to heaven. The victim had a brother who never showed up to ID the body. Later, a monk reported her ashes stolen from the temple. Victims four, five, six, seven. All escorts, all orphans. X started getting artsy. He nailed one girl’s palms to a wooden cross. He posed another like “The Thinker.” Then, silence. For three years, X vanished. Until recently. A body appeared in a dumpster. “X” on the face, heart missing. No art, just trash. The cops caught the guy in three days. The media cheered. But while everyone was celebrating, a drunk stumbled down a dark alley in Portland. He saw a woman framed inside a giant picture frame mounted on the wall. Her lips were stapled into a smile. It was a macabre Mona Lisa. Left breast removed. “X” on the face. A note was tucked in the corner: Dear Officers, I am X. I will not let some amateur take credit for my life’s work. The surveillance state makes it hard, but I had to come out to tell you: You will never catch me. – Oct 6, 2017. The handwriting was elegant. He punched a hard dot after the date, showing his rage. Surveillance footage from a dark corner caught a glimpse of him. One leg didn’t bend. He walked with a limp. Experts analyzed the gait. Eight out of ten doctors said the limp was real, likely an injury between the calf and thigh. Fast forward to 2020. October 6th. X is dead. And my old pal Ethan Vance held the smoking gun—or rather, the flower vase. I pulled strings. The Chief in Seattle loves my book, The Anatomy of Murder. He told Detective Ramirez to give me the green light. 2 Ramirez led me to the interrogation room. Ethan looked at me with genuine shock. “You? You’re the reporter?” “Surprise, buddy,” I laughed. “I’m kind of a big deal in the true crime world now. You’re a hero, Ethan. You took down X. I flew a thousand miles for this scoop. You got a lawyer? I know some sharks.” “No need,” Ethan said calmly. “I don’t need one.” “Fair enough. The internet wants you getting a medal, not a prison sentence.” I played it cool. Started with small talk to loosen him up. We talked about 5th grade. How he was the smart orphan kid everyone loved. How I shared my mom’s dumplings with him. We reminisced about catching cicadas in the woods by the graveyard. He used to have this stray dog, a mutt named Buster. I was so jealous of that dog. My mom wouldn’t let me have one because they were “dirty.” “I loved that dog,” I said. “Whatever happened to him? He live a long life?” “No,” Ethan said, his voice flat. “Summer of 6th grade. He didn’t come home. found him by the road with his skull cracked open. Adults said a car hit him.” “That sucks,” I said, shifting gears quickly. “Remember Old Man Jenkins? The guy with the limp? We used to steal his watermelons. I’d distract him, you’d grab the melon. He couldn’t chase us with that bad leg. He’d hobble around, shoulders bobbing up and down. Funny as hell.” We both laughed. The ice was broken. “So,” I leaned in. “How did you kill X?” “I already told Ramirez.” “I want to hear it from you. For the book.” Ethan sighed. “Fine.” Here’s his story: He went to check on Chloe (formerly known as Fang Xinyun), the girl X was targeting. He knocked, no answer. But he heard glass breaking inside. Worried, he kicked the door in. He found Chloe on the floor, an “X” drawn on her face in red marker. As he went to help her, a shadow moved across the floor. Sunlight hit it. He turned around. A masked man lunged with a knife. They fought. Ethan grabbed a heavy flower vase and smashed it over the guy’s head. The guy went down hard. Ethan called the cops. The guy was dead. One hit. Later, Chloe woke up in the hospital. She told the police the attacker was a regular client who was obsessed with her. He wanted to run away with her. When she refused, he snapped. He screamed at her: “I’m X! The police haven’t caught me in ten years! Since you won’t come with me, you’ll be my next masterpiece.” He knocked her out. Then Ethan arrived. 3 “That’s it?” I couldn’t hide my disappointment. “What do you mean?” “It’s so… basic. No offense, but I wanted X to be caught alive. I wanted to pick his brain. But he died from a vase to the head? It lacks flair.” “Life isn’t a movie, Jack. You have a weird fetish for ‘flair’.” “Maybe.” I wrapped up the interview, but something smelled off. The narrative was trash. Serial killer falls for hooker, gets rejected, tries to kill her, gets bonked by a nerd with a vase. It wouldn’t sell books. And wait—Ethan is a prestigious Ph.D. Why is he hanging out with an escort? I needed to talk to Chloe. I went to her apartment. She slammed the door in my face. I slid ten $100 bills under the door. Money talks. She let me in, but her story was identical to Ethan’s script. When I asked about her relationship with Ethan, she snapped. “What, a Ph.D. can’t date a girl like me? You men are all the same.” “Chill, I’m just asking.” “Get out! Take your dirty money and get out!” She threw the cash at my face. I crouched down to pick up the bills. That’s when it hit me. Like a lightning bolt. I stood up and looked around. The windows faced North and South. They were covered with frosted paper. It was the exact time of day Ethan claimed the fight happened. There was no shadow on the floor. Not a distinct one. Ethan lied. 4 Why did he lie? And is X really dead? I rushed to the precinct and told Detective Ramirez. Ramirez smirked. “Not bad, reporter. We knew he was lying. Honestly? We suspect Ethan might be X.” “What? No way. Why?” “His travel records. Over the last few years, Ethan has been in every city where X killed a girl, right around the time of the murders.” “Coincidence? He’s a profiler.” “Maybe. But when you stare into the abyss, right? Plus, his sister. Her file has been cold for years. We think she’s dead.” I went back for a second interview. “What is your relationship with Chloe? Really.” “She was my patient,” Ethan said. “Then my girlfriend. I was testing a new hypnosis therapy. Long-term, slow-burn suggestion. I needed a volunteer who would let me reshape memories.” “Hypnosis? You serious?” “It works. Chloe was scared of someone. She told me under hypnosis that a man wanted to cut her heart out. She wouldn’t give me a name. We grew close during the sessions. I fell for her. I went to her place that day to confess my feelings, and I walked in on the attack.” “Did the experiment work?” “No.” “Okay. Next question. Ramirez thinks you’re X. Your travel history matches the murders.” “I’m a criminal psychologist. I study X. I track him. I go to the crime scenes to profile him. I felt like I knew him. I never expected to be the one to kill him.” “Right. One more thing. You said you saw X’s shadow on the floor. I went to Chloe’s apartment. The lighting, the frosted glass… you couldn’t have seen a sharp shadow. Why lie?” Ethan froze. He opened his mouth, but Ramirez burst in and dragged me out. 5 Ramirez looked grave. “No more interviews. We found new evidence.” They found a shrine of X’s photos in Ethan’s house. The dead guy’s real name was Caleb. Caleb didn’t die from the vase. He died of poison. Caleb sent a text to Chloe before he died: “Run. Ethan is X.” They found microscope slides of human tissue in Ethan’s apartment. “I can’t let you talk to him anymore,” Ramirez said. “But if you want to investigate on your own… be my guest. Just don’t print those four points yet.” I went back to the hotel, buzzing. But something didn’t add up. Ethan said he met Chloe six months ago. I went back to Chloe’s. I harassed her until she slipped up. “What hypnosis? I’ve known Ethan for three years!” She slammed the door again. Ethan lied about the timeline. I needed to know about Caleb. The dead “X.” I went to Caleb’s apartment. The landlord was clearing it out. “He was a quiet guy,” the landlord said. “Had a girlfriend once, then she stopped coming. He got skinny. Looked like a skeleton recently. No way he killed people. He didn’t have the strength to open a jar.” The room was empty. Just a bed and a desk. I looked around, frustrated. Then I saw a picture frame on the wall. It wasn’t a painting. It was a slide puzzle. I started sliding the tiles. Head. Torso. Legs. Wings. Click. It formed the image of X’s third victim—the “ascending angel.” The frame popped open. A notebook fell out. I opened it. It was a list of phone numbers and cities. I called the first one. “Hello?” A woman answered. “Hi, um…” “Look, it’s $200 for an hour, $500 overnight. Condoms mandatory.” I hung up. Called the next. “I told you, I haven’t seen any customers with a limp! Stop calling!” I froze. The notebook was a directory of sex workers across the country. A photo slipped out of the back pages. It was a group shot: St. Jude’s Home for Boys – New Year’s Eve. I recognized the kids. It was Ethan. His little sister, Lily. And a third boy holding her hand. That boy must be Caleb. Ethan and the “Killer” grew up together.

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After realizing I was the designated “Evil Villainess” of this story, I decided to stay far away from the gloomy, brooding antagonist. Why? Because for the next five years, we were destined for a toxic, love-hate train wreck. He was supposed to hate me for forcing myself on him, and I was supposed to resent him because I was in love with someone else. But just when I thought I’d successfully ghosted him… The introverted, socially anxious villain suddenly grabbed the hem of my shirt. His ears were burning red, and he stammered: “Hannah… c-can I… sleep with you? If I don’t… I’ll die…” Suddenly, a stream of live-chat comments floated across my vision: [LMAO, the villain has a condition where he needs physical contact with the villainess to survive! Who’s forcing whom now?!] [I declare this the greatest illness ever for an introvert! He never talks, but when he opens his mouth, he wants to bang!!!] [Bang or die trying! Such a yandere setting!] 1 I met Liam Thorne at a club. At the time, I was heartbroken because my childhood crush, Julian, didn’t like me back. When I saw Liam, I mistook him for a new host the club had hired. Without a word, I dragged him into a private VIP booth. The people inside started catcalling and whistling, while Liam stood there, completely frozen. He struggled, trying to break free, his brows furrowed in genuine anger. “Let… let me out!” I cornered him, slamming my arm against the wall beside his head. My other hand touched his chest ambiguously. The person under my hand trembled. His fake aloofness dissolved into fine, terrified shivers. “I’m not…” I pulled out a Black Card and pressed it against his lips, silencing him. “Drink with me. The money is yours.” My friends cheered from the sofas. “Hannah, you really are something. Even in heartbreak, you’re chasing tail.” “Hey handsome, our Hannah just got dumped. Take care of her, and we’ll tip you extra.” I found them annoying, so I kicked everyone out. I pushed Liam onto the sofa. His hair was thick and black, falling obediently over his eyes. A pair of thin-rimmed black glasses hid a gaze that was usually sharp, now panicked. I grabbed Liam’s collar and pressed a bottle of wine to his lips. Just as I was about to force it down his throat… A row of glowing text suddenly appeared before my eyes. [Here we go! The evil villainess is about to force herself on the Big Bad.] [This wine is drugged. It was meant for the male lead, but the villain gets it instead. Tonight, sparks fly. Later, it’s a pure hate-drama: she forces, he resists; she’s cruel, he’s vengeful.] [I love this toxic trope! Too bad they have a tragic ending—one dead, one crippled. Fits the character design though.] [The villain is the unloved illegitimate son of the Thorne family. Due to his environment, he’s currently a withdrawn mute. The humiliation he suffers today will be repaid tenfold in the future.] Wait. Drugged? I would never do something like drugging someone! I have standards! I sobered up instantly. My hand shook, and the red wine poured all over Liam’s collar instead of into his mouth. His breath hitched from the cold liquid. His deep eyes glared at me with stubborn humiliation. He bit his lower lip hard. His pale neck was stained deep crimson. His thin white shirt turned transparent, sticking to his skin. I scrambled off of him and coughed awkwardly. “Uh, um… I’m drunk. You can go.” 2 After Liam left, I sorted through my thoughts. Since our future ending was so tragic, I needed to stay the hell away from him. But you know how it is—once you notice someone you never cared about before, you start seeing them everywhere. Later, I found out he and Julian (the Male Lead) were in the same major. Since I was always following Julian around like a lost puppy, I kept bumping into Liam. “What are you looking at?” Julian leaned on the edge of the pool, following my gaze. Liam was soaking in the corner at the far end of the pool, alone. He seemed to see me. Although it was far, I felt his calm, deadpan eyes tremble slightly before he looked down again. College swimming classes were slack; everyone huddled in groups to chat. Because of Liam’s withdrawn personality, no one went near him. I looked away. “Nothing.” Julian narrowed his eyes, his gaze landing on Liam with disdain. “Him? The Thorne family’s bastard. Unloved. Heard you messed with him at the bar the other day? Nothing happened, right?” “N-no, nothing.” Julian looked at me inquisitively, then smiled that charming smile that used to make my knees weak. He brushed my fingers resting on the pool edge. “Come down and play.” [Ahhh stop flirting, Julian! You belong to the Heroine!] [It’s okay, even though the Male Lead and the Villainess are childhood friends, Julian hasn’t realized his feelings yet. He’s flirting without knowing it.] [Male Lead is for the Heroine. Hannah, just go lock yourself up with the Villain!] So, Julian was the Male Lead. In the plot flashes I saw, Julian wavered between me and the Heroine, flirting ambiguously with both. Our love quadrangle came with a heavy price. I retracted my fingers. “No thanks.” I needed to stay away from Liam and Julian. 3 I got up to swim elsewhere. But I heard a commotion near the deep end. “Yo, isn’t this the Thorne bastard? Why are you in class today?” “Did you do what I told you the other day?” “Why aren’t you talking? Mute?” A few guys surrounded Liam. Liam clenched his hands by his side, eyes cold and unapproachable. His back was slightly hunched, like a thin sapling trying not to snap in the wind. “Move.” The guys sneered. “Or what? Do you know who you offended?” They pushed and shoved. Suddenly, a look of agony flashed across Liam’s face. Before being pushed into the water, his gaze seemed to linger on me for two seconds. He didn’t seem to know how to swim. He thrashed a couple of times before sinking like a stone. The guys on shore laughed, not realizing the severity. Seeing the surface calm down, I dove in. I grabbed Liam underwater. His eyes were closed, his face cold and proud, like a sleeping prince frozen in ice. His upper body muscles were lean and tight, mesmerizing me for a second. Feeling someone grab him, he opened his eyes slightly, then closed them again. He looked in extreme pain, probably from lack of oxygen. He thrashed weakly, his whole body pressing against mine. No time to think. I pinched his chin, pressed my lips to his, and slowly gave him air. Liam’s eyelids fluttered. His withdrawn nature made him want to pull away, but instinct made him cling to me. I held the back of his head and gave him a full breath. We surfaced, gasping. Liam coughed, wet eyelashes drooping, chest heaving violently. Whether from anger or shame, I couldn’t tell. The guys on shore gathered around. “Hannah, are you okay? Why save him?” I climbed up, furious. “What’s your problem? If he died here today, none of you would get away with it.” “It’s not like he can’t swim. Why come to class if he can’t?” “Shut up!” Liam barely moved. Maybe he really was a terrible swimmer. Besides, with his personality, if he could climb up himself, he wouldn’t let someone save him. Let alone let me kiss him like that. But… his lips were soft. I rubbed my lips with my knuckles, lost in thought. [Ooh ooh ooh, reminiscing already?] [Wait, the plot changed? I remember in the original, Liam climbed up pathetically, and Hannah stood on the shore mocking him.] [Yeah, and nothing happened at the bar either.] [Liam CAN swim! What happened to him just now? Why did he sink?] [What’s with the Male Lead? Why is Julian looking at Hannah like that? He looks… dark.] I turned around and saw Julian staring at me. His eyes were calm, but strangely eerie. 4 I left immediately, putting distance between myself and Julian. Ten days later. Late at night, friends called me out for drinks. Before entering the booth, I heard Julian’s voice. “Jules, what’s going on with you and Hannah?” “Nothing. I was just mad she risked herself to save a random guy and left without a word.” “So concerned… seems like you care.” “Tsk, don’t talk nonsense. She’s just a little sister to me.” “Real sister or step-sister? We outsiders can see clearly.” “Shut up, I’m not an animal.” [See? I told you. Julian is just worried. He doesn’t like Hannah.] [Of course, Julian belongs to the Heroine forever. Hannah, go away.] The bullet comments were right. I turned and left. I went back to campus. Bored, I wandered around the track. Unknowingly, I walked to the outdoor basketball court. Someone was playing alone. Slow movements, long shadow. Jump, shoot, three-pointer. Swish. It was Liam. Makes sense. He hates people, so he plays at night. He didn’t play with the usual swagger of a teenager. His movements were precise but restrained. He stopped, took off his glasses, and lifted his shirt to wipe the sweat from his face. The glimpse of his lean waist was not only slightly erotic but also kind of cute. Remembering the spicy scenes from the original novel involving that waist, I shook my head violently. I stepped on a soda can. Crunch. “Who?!” Liam looked over alertly. “Just passing by! Leaving now!” “Wai—” We spoke at the same time. Liam seemed to be preparing to say something, looking at me nervously. Suddenly, he fell to his knees. He clutched his chest, his face twisting in agony. Eyes half-open, blurred with pain. Breathing rapidly like a dying fish. I ran over. “Liam, what’s wrong?” He leaned into my arms, sweat rolling down his cheeks. His wrist lay limply on my shoulder. He stared at me for a moment, as if gathering every ounce of courage he possessed. He choked out: “S… sorry.” Then he pulled my neck down, and his lips pressed against mine. A very clean, wet, hot kiss. Liam stayed obediently pressed against me, panting lightly, until his breathing steadied. I was stunned. Before I could react, I heard voices nearby. “Holy sh*t!” I looked up and saw a group of people… and a dark-faced Julian. “What are you doing?” Julian’s gaze was pitch black. His words weren’t sharp, but they carried a heavy pressure. “Little Hannah didn’t come to the party so she could make out here…” someone teased. Liam gripped my sleeve tightly. He turned his head, avoiding everyone’s gaze, but burrowed closer to me. His ears were bright red. I frowned. “You guys scared him.” [LMAO, the villain has a condition where he needs intimate contact with the Hannah to survive! Who’s forcing whom now?] [He learned to force a kiss without a teacher! But he kissed so obediently, scared and shy, hiding in her arms.] [Usually, it’s the guy holding the ‘innocent’ girl saying ‘You scared her.’ This reverse operation is so satisfying! Boss lady energy!] Liam and I stood up. He looked at Julian through his lenses. Amidst the timidity, there was a possessiveness I hadn’t noticed before. “Hannah, he’s an illegitimate…” Julian paused. “Even if you mess around, don’t mix with him…” “I don’t care.” I felt my hem being pulled tighter. Julian looked shocked. “You don’t care? Do you not care about me either?” I was confused. “Aren’t you my brother? Why should I care about you regarding who I date?” Julian choked. “I just… don’t want to see you with someone like him. Uncle Han wouldn’t agree either.” “You’re overthinking it. My dad respects all my wishes, Brother.” Leaving Julian pale-faced, I dragged Liam away.

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I am the long-lost daughter of the richest family in the city. The day my biological brother brought me home, I had mud on my hands from sculpting. My foster sister, upon seeing me, immediately pushed me to the ground in disgust. Before I could even react, my biological mother slapped her across the face. “Who do you think you are? An adopted daughter dares to hit my own flesh and blood!” Damn! I like this mom. She’s cool. I’ve decided right then and there—I’m staying. 1 I am the daughter of the city’s wealthiest man, lost for twenty years. When my brother, Liam, found me, I was knee-deep in clay, working on a sculpture. He waved the fresh DNA test results in the air, hugging me excitedly. “Serena, you really are my sister! I knew I wasn’t wrong! Come with me! I’m taking you home.” I actually had an important mission to complete, and getting into the richest family would make things a lot easier. So, going back to “claim my birthright” and check out my new family was killing two birds with one stone. I got into the car with Liam, still a bit dazed. On the way, Liam briefed me on the family situation multiple times, terrified he’d miss a detail. He said the family had more money than we could ever spend, with businesses in fashion, food, real estate, and transportation. Mom called the shots at home, and she was a big deal in the business world too. Honestly, it sounded like he was just humble-bragging and hyping up Mom. “Besides Mom and Dad, there’s just me and you. Oh, and the staff—maids, cooks, drivers.” “Wait, there’s also the daughter of one of Dad’s friends. But she doesn’t matter. Just pretend she doesn’t exist.” My brow furrowed. I’d heard stories about lost heirs returning home—the first step is usually a power struggle. Life in a billionaire’s family is never simple. I looked down at my clothes, still stained with clay. Walking into a mansion looking like I just rolled in the mud? What kind of welcome was I in for? Thinking about it, I felt a strange sense of anticipation. From what I knew, this foster sister wasn’t just some random girl. 2 As soon as we walked in, a girl dressed head-to-toe in designer brands came running towards us. She beamed at Liam. “Liam, you’re back!” This must be the foster sister Liam mentioned, Chloe. Believing in the principle of “don’t slap a smiling face,” and considering we’d be living under the same roof, I put on a sweet smile and raised my hand to greet her. “Hi, I’m…” Before I could finish, she took a step back and shoved me hard. Caught off guard, I lost my balance and fell. Sharp pain shot through my ankle. “Liam, is she the new cleaning lady? Eww, she’s so dirty! Make her leave!” Liam rushed to help me up, looking at my swollen ankle with distress, then turned to Chloe, shaking with anger. “Chloe! She is not a cleaning lady! She is my sister, Serena! Show some respect!” “And you just pushed her for no reason! Apologize to her now!” Chloe’s eyes widened. She looked me up and down with disdain. “Sister? Her?! Liam, you’ve only known her for a few days. Who knows if she’s a scammer!” “Not just anyone can walk through our front door!” Liam helped me stand and shielded me, his gaze sharp. “She is my biological sister. I don’t hit women, but if you don’t apologize today, don’t blame me for being rude.” Chloe stomped her foot, indignant. “Liam! You’re yelling at me for her? I’m telling Dad!” What? What kind of logic is that? She was rude first, and now she’s playing the victim? I was pissed. Growing up, my adoptive dad never even raised a hand against me. Before I left, he told me I didn’t have to endure everything. Being a little feisty would actually fit my cover better. Nothing a good fight can’t solve. I steadied myself, rolling up my sleeves, ready to slap her. But a fierce figure rushed past me. Before I could react, Slap! Slap! Chloe took two hard slaps to the face. “Who do you think you are? An adopted daughter dares to hit my own flesh and blood!” My own flesh and blood? Is this my biological mom? Her swift, precise movements were cooler than an action movie star. Even cooler than my adoptive dad. I almost applauded. “Mom!” I blurted out. 3 “Aye!” She responded instantly, her face transforming into a loving smile. As if the fierce warrior from a second ago wasn’t her. She put her hands on my shoulders, looking me over again and again. Then she pulled me into a tight hug, tears welling up in her eyes. “Serena, you look just like me! Baby, Mom has been looking for you for so long!” “You’ve suffered all these years. Don’t worry, Mom will make it up to you.” Liam said I was lost when I was three. Mom and he never gave up looking for me. Finally, their efforts paid off. I was found and raised by my adoptive dad. He was a workaholic bachelor. Since I could remember, I never knew what motherly love felt like. I used to envy classmates who said “My mom said this” or had moms picking them up from school. Now, suddenly having a biological mom felt… amazing. Maybe it was blood instinct, but I didn’t reject her. I felt warm inside. Liam turned away, secretly wiping his eyes. I patted Mom’s back, comforting her. “Mom, Liam, I’m back. Thank you for not giving up on me.” Liam hugged both of us. “It’s good you’re back. We’ll never be separated again.” This scene triggered Chloe. Her face twisted in anger, muttering: “You’re all bullying me! I’m telling Dad!” Mom laughed, hearing this. She grabbed Chloe’s chin, looking at her with disdain. “Oh? Really? Go ahead. See who calls the shots in this house!” Just then, noise came from the door. A voice preceded the person: “I’m home.” Hearing this, Chloe ran to welcome him, throwing a glare at me before she left: “Dad’s back. You’re in for it now!” 4 Chloe threw herself into Dad’s arms, sobbing. “Dad, you’re finally back! Mom and Liam are bullying me!” Dad, let’s call him Richard, looked at Chloe’s face. “Chloe, what happened to your face? Who hit you?” “Come, let’s get some medicine. It won’t look good if it swells up.” He tried to take Chloe to find the first aid kit, but the three of us blocked their way. Chloe lowered her head, sniffing. Mom crossed her arms, staring them down. “I hit her.” Liam stood in the exact same pose as Mom. I looked at their expressions, a bit confused, and decided to stay silent. Liam spoke, his tone cold: “Dad, this is my biological sister, Serena. She came home today.” As soon as he finished, Richard pushed Chloe aside and trotted over to me. He squinted, looking me up and down with an expression weirder than an old man reading a phone screen on the subway. Then he looked disgusted and conflicted. “Th-this is my daughter? For real? Is she another gold digger coming out of the woodwork?” “And why are you all bullying Chloe? Don’t you know how pitiful her background is?” Huh? What? What kind of twisted logic is that? What does Chloe’s pitiful background have to do with me? I didn’t make her pitiful. Isn’t being separated from my mom for twenty years more pitiful? I was speechless at his reaction and looked at Liam for help. Liam shielded me, giving me a reassuring look. “Serena, don’t be scared. Just watch Mom.” Before I understood what he meant, Mom exploded. She grabbed a baseball bat and started chasing Richard around the living room. “Richard! Did a donkey kick you in the head today? Did you forget your meds?” “Gold digger? Liam personally handled the DNA test!” “Even without the test, look at her face! Anyone with a brain can see she’s my daughter!” “And you! Your daughter comes back and you don’t even care? You side with an outsider? Looks like you need a beating to straighten you out!” My jaw dropped. I could fit two eggs in there. Liam looked like he was used to it, signaling me not to worry. Richard was begging for mercy in no time, looking absolutely pathetic. It was hilarious. But I didn’t miss the flash of malice in his eyes when he looked down, or the venom in Chloe’s gaze. My suspicion was confirmed. These two were not as simple as they seemed. 5 That night, after updating my adoptive dad on the situation, I went downstairs to find some food. I heard rustling outside my door. Looking through the peephole, I saw someone lurking. As I walked down the stairs, I deliberately didn’t turn on the lights. I pretended not to see the stuff scattered on the steps or the person hiding in the corner. My foot slipped. Instinctively, I reached for the handrail. But a sudden push from behind sent me tumbling down the stairs. Shutterstock When I opened my eyes, I was in a hospital room with Mom and Liam looking anxious. “Serena, you’re awake! How do you feel?” “Does it hurt anywhere? You scared us to death!” Mom’s eyes were red as she hugged me. Liam was calmer. “Serena, do you remember how you fell?” I didn’t answer, but asked, “Where are Richard and Chloe?” “They said there was an emergency at the company and would come later.” I paused before speaking. “Mom, Liam, my fall wasn’t an accident. It was deliberate.” “What?!” they exclaimed in unison. I pulled out my phone and showed them the surveillance footage. “I was worried about conflicts with Chloe, so I installed a micro-camera at my door just in case.” The video clearly showed Chloe scattering beads on the floor. And when I slipped, she pushed me from behind. Mom and Liam were furious. “Chloe is evil! We can’t keep her in the house. She has to move out.” I held Mom’s hand, looking serious. “Mom, Liam, listen to me. Chloe isn’t as simple as she looks.” “Moving her out is just step one. She needs to be removed from the company too.” “This involves another reason for my return, but I can’t reveal too much yet. Please understand.” “Use our conflict as a reason to kick her out first. When I recover and join the company, I’ll slowly strip her of her power.” “There’s more to my disappearance years ago. I’m still investigating. Let’s not alert the enemy yet.” Mom and Liam exchanged a serious look. In the end, they agreed to my plan.

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Ten years after high school graduation, an old photo of me and my first love went viral online. In the picture, we were in our school uniforms, fingers interlocked, smiling brightly at the camera. Smitten netizens started searching for us, only to be disappointed. We had broken up amicably years ago. He became the youngest rising star on Wall Street. I was forced to return to my hometown, working odd jobs to pay off debts, just another ordinary person struggling to survive. Aside from one class reunion, our lives never intersected again. That night, an anonymous question trended: “How are things with your high school sweetheart now?” A familiar username caught my eye— His answer was a single, cold sentence: “Seeing her doing poorly puts my mind at ease.” 1 My gaze lingered on those words for a long time. I was the one who helped Julian register this account back in the day. I even picked the username. And the profile picture was of our matching promise rings. The internet sleuths quickly identified him and pushed his comment to the top. “Holy crap, the guy from the photo showed up.” “Bro, you’re successful now, no need to be so petty, right?” “Didn’t you guys break up peacefully? Why the animosity?” Julian didn’t reply again. It was as if he couldn’t be bothered to explain a past relationship. I didn’t comment either. Holding my phone, I silently liked his comment. 2 The photo’s popularity lasted longer than I expected. Soon, media outlets reached out for interviews. No face reveal, just three questions. But they offered $3,000. I didn’t refuse. “How do you feel seeing that photo?” The host asked gently, “Do you have any regrets?” “No,” I said honestly. If not for this photo popping up out of nowhere, I hadn’t thought of Julian in a long time. A high school crush, no matter how deep, is hard to remember for a lifetime. Especially when I’m working 18 hours a day for corporate overlords. I don’t have time for nostalgia. “What was the specific reason for the breakup?” I was silent for a moment. “I gave him up for my future.” The host paused, instinctively asking, “Do you regret it?” I shook my head without hesitation. “Last question,” the host’s voice softened. “You both attended the class reunion last year.” “Did you speak to each other?” My heart trembled. 3 Last year, Julian came back to town. It coincided with our high school’s centennial celebration. He was invited and casually donated five million dollars. The class reunion was held around the same time. Halfway through the dinner, Julian pushed the door open. The big shot arrived, and the whole room cheered. Only I sat in the corner, feeling like I was on pins and needles. Without the school uniform, the boyishness had faded from him. Standing there with ease, his slightly smiling gaze swept calmly over everyone. Unreadable. Julian had other engagements and didn’t stay long. He symbolically drank a few glasses, didn’t even glance my way, paid the bill, and left. The dinner ended early. I found my electric scooter outside, wanting to deliver a few more takeout orders. It rained heavily that night. Rushing to deliver an order that was about to be late, I turned left before the red light and accidentally hit a car going straight. Seeing the Bentley logo, my heart went cold. The car door opened. Julian stepped out with an umbrella. “How are you driving? This is a straight lane; you’re fully responsible for turning. A scratch on a car this expensive means a full repaint at the factory, tens of thousands in repairs…” The driver looked at the scratched paint, furious and trying to deflect blame. A few steps away, Julian leaned lazily against the car, well-dressed, expression cold. His gaze swept over me occasionally, devoid of emotion. I apologized profusely. Desperately bowing my head, burying my remaining dignity under the heavy, oversized helmet. “What happened?” A pleasant female voice hit my ears. There was a third person in the car. A woman lifted her skirt and jumped out. Seeing my disheveled state, she frowned impatiently. “Mr. Rhodes, forget it. Don’t waste time on this small matter.” Julian didn’t speak. He lowered his eyes silently, lost in thought. The woman’s voice revealed a hint of difficulty: “You have to take me home to meet your parents tonight. If we waste time on this, what about your parents?” The sound of rain was clear. Then someone seemed to laugh. Julian looked at me, his tone cold and mocking: “Yeah, what about them?” 4 I was dazed for a moment. “What about them?” or rather, “What do I do?” I used to ask Julian this question all the time. What do I do if I can’t finish my homework? What do I do if I fail the exam? What do I do if the corner store is out of popsicles? Julian would laugh and mercilessly tap my forehead: “Mia, can you not survive without me?” It seemed so. Julian and I met in kindergarten and had never been apart. Whenever I encountered a problem, my first reaction was to find him. Because he would always fix it for me in the end. Before we broke up, I had never tied my own shoelaces. Julian often called himself my excellent manservant. Mine alone. Classmates joked that I was a keychain on Julian’s backpack. He took care of me wherever he went. Julian didn’t deny it. He just held my hand in his, playing with it while looking down. Thinking of something, he sighed softly: “Mia, actually, if we separate…” “I’m the one who won’t be able to survive.” 5 The woman speaking was named Sophie. She was Julian’s secretary and had been with him for years. Thanks to her, Julian not only didn’t make me pay but also arranged for the driver to take me to the hospital for a checkup. I breathed a sigh of relief. I have a sister who just started middle school this year. School is expensive, and it’s time to spend money. My mom’s health isn’t good; she’s always running to the hospital. After working for a few years, my savings were meager. Going into debt now would be adding frost to snow. While waiting for the checkup results at the hospital, the driver gossiped with a friend nearby: “Yeah, Mr. Rhodes took Secretary Sophie back to his hometown to meet his parents.” “Former colleague, future boss’s wife… sigh, some people are just lucky. Both from humble beginnings, but she’s about to fly up the branch and become a phoenix.” “It’s sudden though. I could tell Secretary Sophie liked Mr. Rhodes, but because of his first love, he never looked at other women… I don’t know how he accepted it.” “Yeah, maybe he moved on.” I got home very late that night. Exhausted, I fell asleep immediately. In my dream, I went back to the year after high school graduation. The acceptance letters arrived. I got into D University. It was in the south, while Julian’s school was in the north, thousands of miles apart. But getting into the same university was our goal since the beginning of senior year. Our SAT scores were only a few points apart. Without any accidents, we could have easily gotten into the same school. “How did this happen, Mia?” Julian’s eyes were red as he forced a smile: “You must have slipped when filling out the form, right? It’s okay. I’ll take a gap year and reapply. I’ll go to D University as your junior. It’s better than being apart for four years.” How could I have slipped? We checked each other’s applications repeatedly, terrified of making a mistake and being separated. I pulled my hand away and stepped back: “Stop lying to yourself.” Contrary to his pain, I was calm, almost cruel: “I changed my application on purpose.” The tall figure in my peripheral vision went pale instantly: “Why?” “To get away from you.” “Julian, I approached you just because I wanted you to tutor me and improve my grades.” “The person I really like is the class president next door. He got into D University with me. I lied to you until today because I was afraid you’d cling to me and fight for the limited spots.” “Julian, I beg you, don’t reapply to find me. Let me go.” I lowered my eyes: “I really don’t like you.”

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