Author: Momo Chan

1. The system told me that if this body died, I could return to my original world. This was after I’d failed to capture the hearts of the three male leads. So, I happily ordered a massive carb-loaded feast down in this dark, musty basement. After finishing it, I got out a length of rope and prepared to hang myself. But just as I was about to slip my head into the noose, a barrage of glowing comments flashed across my vision. [Nooooo, sweetie! Your brother is only treating you badly because he feels guilty toward the foster sister! You are his most beloved sister!] [Exactly! Your fiancé is the same way! It’s just because the foster sister saved him. His heart is BLEEDING every time he hurts you!] [And your childhood best friend only feels guilt for the foster sister, too! Don’t give up! Don’t kill yourself! If you die, those three will go insane!] … I had just stepped onto the stool when these bizarre comments appeared before me. Reading them, I felt nothing but utter ridicule. For over twenty years, I had poured my entire heart and soul into trying to win over this world’s three male leads. Yet, because the foster sister attempted suicide that one time, they subjected me to extreme torment, kicked me out into this godforsaken rental room, and caused me to rack up massive debt, enduring daily beatings from loan sharks. Now these comments were telling me that I was the one they truly loved? It was laughable. I ignored them, slipped my head into the noose, and kicked the stool away. The feeling of suffocation slowly crept in. In my mind’s eye, I saw the loving smiles of my parents. It’s finally happening. I’m going home. [Relax, everyone! Big Bro is coming right now! He’ll save her while pretending to be tough!] [Yup, yup! He acts like he hates her, but he’ll be terrified seeing her try to kill herself!] [The foster sister saved the three male leads, so they have to repay their debt! Sweetie, be understanding of them! Once the fiancé and the foster sister have their ceremony, their debt will be fully repaid!] The next second, the rickety basement door was violently smashed open. My brother, Ron Clark, rushed in and pulled me down, a fleeting look of panic in his eyes. I hit the floor hard, feeling a profound regret that I hadn’t made it home to my parents. “Lola, what is this act of yours? What are you doing? Raven is suffering from depression because of you. She’s just having a commitment ceremony with Ethan; it’s not a real marriage! Who are you trying to impress with this stunt? “Do you think anyone will feel sorry for you if you kill yourself? I just feel sickened.” I looked at that face, so familiar yet filled with such contempt for me, and my heart ached with a dull, numb pain. Ron was an illegitimate child in our family. When he first joined us, he was disliked, and kids at school often bullied him. I was the first one to take his hand and tell him he was good enough. I shared everything with him. When he discovered a passion for piano, I argued relentlessly with the elders and finally secured him a spot with a master teacher. He adored a rare, out-of-print music score that I found, but it was in shreds. I stayed up for nights, even damaging my eyesight, just to painstakingly piece it back together for him. He used to smile, carrying me on his back, promising to be good to me forever. “Lola is my sister. I would die before I let anything hurt her.” But that man who made those fervent promises—everything changed when the foster sister, Raven, arrived. 2. Raven often played the innocent victim to frame me. And right when I was about to marry my fiancé, Ethan Hayes, she ran up to a rooftop in a wedding dress and threatened to jump. To appease her, my fiancé and brother threw me out of the Clark estate, set me up with that enormous loan shark debt, and had me blacklisted across the city. For three years, I’ve been hiding daily, constantly subject to beatings. The legs that once danced ballet are now permanently injured, crippled by a compound fracture. [Waaah, Big Bro is actually so sad saying those things! His fists are clenched tight!] [It’s because the debt hasn’t been repaid! I know Sweetie is hurt, but try to think of Big Bro! He only favors the foster sister because of the life debt.] [So angsty! My heart aches for Big Bro.] It was utterly ridiculous. What did their life debt have to do with me? For twenty years, I had been nothing but kind and loyal to Ron. I looked at Ron and smiled faintly. “As you wish, I won’t be a nuisance anymore.” Before Ron could react, I grabbed the fruit knife from the table and brutally slashed my own wrist. “LOLA!!!” Before I blacked out, I only heard Ron’s heartbroken scream. I truly thought this time I would finally die. But no. I was jolted awake by a glass hitting the wall. Opening my eyes, I saw Raven and Ethan standing by my hospital bed. Raven was crying pitifully, while Ethan was rigid with fury. “Sister, please don’t hurt yourself because of me! I won’t marry Ethan anymore.” Raven leaned against Ethan, delicate as a willow, looking like she might collapse at any moment. Ethan immediately steadied her, his gaze aristocratic and cold as he looked at me. “What stunt are you pulling now? Do you realize Raven has called off the ceremony these past few days because of you? She isn’t eating or sleeping well! It’s not even a legal marriage yet! Who are you trying to impress by being so dramatic?” [Ahhh, who noticed the fiancé’s tightly clenched hands? Saying those nasty things to the female lead hurts him ten thousand times more!] [He has to repay the life debt, so he can’t let the foster sister be sad and must comply with her every wish. He just has to inconvenience Sweetie first.] [Sweetie, don’t cry! The sweetness will come after the ceremony! You’ll be the main character in a sweet romance then!] [Who understands the fiancé’s restrained love? The more he loves, the more he holds back! The angst is killing me!] These comments didn’t bring me an ounce of joy. Instead, I was flooded with memories of Ethan. I met him in high school while I was an exchange student abroad for two years. He was betrayed by his father’s illegitimate son, driven overseas, and was so broke he looked like a common beggar. I took him in. He was a spoiled young master who didn’t know how to cook, so I cooked for him and managed the household, restoring him to his former self. My attentive care transformed him from an icy figure to a tender, loving partner. He used to secretly sketch me while I slept and write “My Wife” in French on the margin. Back in the States, I helped him regain control of his family’s corporation. He said he wanted to marry me and give me the grandest wedding in the world. But after Raven’s “life-saving act,” everything shattered. The Ethan who was once so gentle now hated and avoided me, even feeling sick at the sound of my name. He was the one who personally ordered the breaking of my violin-playing hands. All because of a ridiculous, easily disproven “life-saving act.” I couldn’t speak. I just lowered my head. “I don’t want anything. I just want peace. I have nothing left. At least my life is my own.” [Why does Sweetie always say things to hurt the male lead’s feelings?] [I’m sorry, but I think the female lead is being a bit dramatic. The male lead is so devoted and restrained. What more does she want?] These comments, with their endless “Sweetie,” treated me like a tool for their shipping fantasy. In their minds, the male lead’s pain was always the only thing that mattered. 3. Ethan’s eyelashes fluttered. He instinctively reached out to stroke my hair, like he used to. But he quickly pulled his hand back, sneering. “Do you think we’ll pity you for using these tricks? If you want to die, go do it far away. Don’t be a bother here!” Ethan glared down at me, then swiftly summoned people to tie me down. I struggled in panic. “What are you doing?” “You want to die? I won’t let you. I want you to wish you were dead but be forced to live!” They tossed me into a remote psychiatric hospital. It looked familiar because it was one of Chris’s properties. I was strapped to a hospital bed. Chris Walker entered, holding his phone, speaking to someone on the other end in a tone of false sweetness, calling them “Sis.” “Sis, you rest up. Don’t worry, I won’t miss your ceremony with Ethan!” But when he looked at me, his eyes were full of disgust. “Ha. Ethan told me you’re throwing another suicide pity party. Lola, you’re so damn pathetic!” [Wow, wow, wow, here comes the Tsundere Puppy, Chris!] [He’s jealous that Sweetie is always with the fiancé and Big Bro, so he’s intentionally bullying her to get her attention.] [Haha, making a call in front of his sister to make her jealous! Such a cute, arrogant little one!] The “cute, arrogant boy” the comments described was now using the most venomous words to curse me. Chris was my childhood best friend, the little brother who always followed me. When he was fifteen, we got caught in an avalanche while skiing. I dug him out of the snow bit by bit and then carried him down the mountain. Because of this, I suffered severe frostbite and was sent straight to the ICU. When Chris woke up, he stayed by my hospital door for several days and nights, his eyes red and swollen. He watched over me for the entire time I was in a coma. When I finally woke up, he threw himself into my arms, crying and calling me foolish. “I’d rather die than let anything happen to you, Sis.” He was sincere and heartfelt then. I stroked his head and comforted him with a smile. The Chris in my memory was completely different from the one standing here. “You like playing with death? Fine, enjoy your stay in my mental hospital.” Chris waved his hand, and immediately a group of people in white coats entered. They carried syringes and vials, indiscriminately sticking needles into my arm. I struggled desperately, even yelling Chris’s name. Please, save me, for the sake of me saving you on that mountain. But Chris just gave me a quick glance, then promptly closed his eyes and left. They shoved unknown drugs into my mouth and washed them down with water. I closed my eyes in despair, tears streaming down my face. I spent the next few months enduring pure hell. When I was awake, they drugged me, gave me shocks, and fed me expired, moldy food. I was living, but less than human, without the strength to even attempt suicide again. [Does anyone else think this is too much? Why is the male lead letting the female lead be abused like this?] [You don’t get it. This is a must for the angst novel! The more it hurts now, the sweeter it will be later.] [Exactly! The male lead’s pain is so much greater! Can you please feel for the male lead? I’m so over this.] After a full month of torment, I was finally released. Chris walked into the room. Seeing my fragile state, his eyes flickered, and he asked, “Do you know you were wrong?” 4. I didn’t answer. I just closed my eyes. [Sweetie, just apologize quickly! Seeing you like this, Bestie is completely brokenhearted!] [One tear from Sweetie, and Bestie will give you his life! Quick, say you’re sorry!!!] I found it utterly ridiculous. Chris didn’t press the issue and walked over to pick me up. I frowned in disgust and clearly struggled. Chris’s face paled, and he lifted me roughly. “Do you think I want to touch you? Someone as low as a rat in a gutter—I hate even touching you! If Raven hadn’t told me to pick you up, I wouldn’t spend another second looking at your disgusting face.” Chris held me tight, pressing my head against his chest. [Bestie acts disgusted, but he’s secretly thrilled! He finally gets to hug his sister!] [Bestie is going to go back and show off to the other two a million times, like it was nothing, hahahaha!] Did Chris truly love me, as the comments claimed? Perhaps. But his love was cheap and loathsome. Chris took me to a bridal shop where Raven was smiling, trying on a wedding gown. When she saw my disheveled state, a flash of mockery and smugness crossed her eyes. “Sister, you’re here! Come quickly and help me try on dresses. My ceremony wouldn’t be complete without you!” “Chris, you should go now. This is sister-time for us!” Chris frowned. “If I leave, what if Lola bullies you?” “Chris, don’t say that about Sister Lola! I know she didn’t mean it before!” Raven feebly defended me, which only served to cement the story that I was the one who had bullied her. After Chris left, Raven looked at me, a malicious smile curving her lips. “Oh, Sister. You did so much for those three, but what good did it do you? In the end, I’m the only one in their hearts.” Raven’s friend stood next to her, sniping cruelly, “Raven, why bother talking to her? She’s just a discarded mistress.” “Why don’t we let her try on the wedding dress for you? Didn’t she want to marry Ethan so badly?” They burst into laughter, surrounding me and stripping my clothes off, piece by piece. “Look! That scar on her body is so ugly, hahahahaha!” That scar was from when I saved Chris on the snowy mountain. I once complained about it to him. He had promised then that he would never let anyone mock my scar. But now, all my shame was laid bare for the person he cherished to see, stripped of all dignity. I was left in my underwear. They took out their phones, snapping pictures and shrieking with mockery. I desperately tried to cover myself, but they kept pulling my arms away. I don’t know how long it lasted before a sudden roar came from the doorway. “STOP IT!” Ron strode in, frowning at the scene. He took off his jacket and shielded me. “Brother, my friends are just playing a joke on Sister. There’s no harm intended. Please don’t be angry with them, okay?” Raven explained airily, as if she knew Ron would always favor her and blindly take her side. Sure enough, he only glanced at me and said nothing more. 5. [Waaah, don’t be sad, Sweetie. Big Bro actually cares about you.] [Big Bro’s hands are about to bleed from clenching them! He must be so heartbroken inside.] [Big Bro is the one who loves Sweetie the most, and he’ll be the one to spoil her the most in the later plot!] I watched the comments try to justify Ron’s actions with cold eyes. True love doesn’t involve harm. These three men, who had hurt me the deepest, didn’t deserve to speak of love. Ethan and Raven’s ceremony quickly arrived. Ethan and Chris forced me to work as a server at the ceremony, all because Raven had said she wanted to hear my blessing. Raven and Ethan, dressed in their magnificent wedding attire, presided over the ceremony while I stood in the middle, holding a tray, subject to public ridicule. “That’s Lola. I heard she tried to steal her sister’s fiancé.” “She’s so wicked, nothing like Raven.” “She’s still here, shamelessly, at their ceremony. Is she still holding out hope?” Raven stood by the massive cake, holding a serving knife and showing off to me. “Sister, this is the most important day of my life. Can you bless me?” I remained silent for a long time. Ethan frowned and sharply ordered me. “Lola, didn’t you hear Raven speak?” I just stared at the knife in Raven’s hand. I realized I had finally found my way home. If they wouldn’t let me live in peace, then even in death, I wouldn’t let them have peace. “What are you doing, Lola?” Chris, who was standing the furthest away, noticed that something was wrong with me, but it was already too late. I lunged forward, pressing my chest right onto the blade, plunging it in hard. I instantly collapsed, bleeding profusely, feeling life drain away. I was finally going home. As I fell, there were three anguished roars. [WTF, why did Sweetie kill herself?!] [This isn’t supposed to be a sweet romance, is it?!] [Oh no, if she dies, what about the three male leads?!] Raven still gripped the knife handle, screaming in shock and instinctively turning to Ethan for help. But Ethan didn’t even look at her. He knelt before me, stunned and heartbroken, carefully lifting me. “Lola, Lola, wake up. You’re trying to scare me again, aren’t you? Don’t do this. I was wrong, I don’t love Raven, I only love you, truly. I was wrong, I was wrong!” I still had a shred of strength, so I struggled desperately, pushing Ethan’s hand away, and slowly closed my eyes. My soul gradually pulled away from my body. Ethan completely shattered. He pressed his face against mine, his tears mixing with my blood. “Lola, wake up! Wake up! We’ll get married right now, okay? We promised to get married! You can’t break your promise!” Ethan’s voice grew numb and hysterical. He didn’t seem to believe I was dead, holding me tightly and whispering about our past. “Lola? Lola!” Ron, who had just returned from outside, heard the enormous commotion. He then saw my cold corpse. Ethan held me tight, refusing to let anyone touch me. “Ron, what happened to my Lola? What happened to her?! Tell me!” Ron trembled as he touched my face. His voice choked up; he couldn’t speak a single word. “Lola… Sis…” Chris was completely frozen in place. When he finally reacted, he rushed over, knelt down, and stared blankly at me. “Sis, you’re just scaring me, right? How can you die? You can’t die! You promised we’d go back to that mountain! You can’t break your promise! Wake up! Wake up!”

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My brother’s crush yelled herself hoarse at me. “My brother has a gorgeous girlfriend, does yours?” “My brother’s parents are whole and healthy, are yours?” I sneered, “My brother would eat dirt. Would yours?” That night, my brother came home disheartened after being rejected for the seventh time. He found me crouching by the door, smiling with a face full of flattery. He paused, then asked with weary affection, “What mischief have you been up to now?” The words were barely out when his phone rang. The man on the other end spoke with hesitant frustration: “You win. Okay?” “I genuinely couldn’t bring myself to eat that stuff.” 1 He hung up and called out to me as I tried to sneak back into the house. “Lola Clark. Get back here.” I flinched. Full name meant he was seriously mad. I shuffled back, head bowed, and looked up at him. My whole body screamed one thing: guilty. “Bro.” I called out sweetly, but his gaze was steady and unwavering. “I didn’t mean it.” Since I was little, I knew my brother was the “Villain” of this story. And his opposite was the “Hero,” Mark Hamilton, who had success in both career and love. Mark had a loudmouthed sister, Tina, who was in my class. Every day, she’d boast in class, “My brother finally got his girl! He has the most beautiful girlfriend now. She bought me so many dresses, I love her!” In contrast, one day my brother, Luke, was half an hour late picking me up from school. His eyes were red, and he looked completely lost. I tugged on his sleeve and asked what was wrong. He forced a smile, leaned down, and ruffled my hair. “Nothing, sweetie. Just… the person your brother loves already loves someone else.” “So what if she does? If you like her, keep going for it,” I tilted my head, looking at him. “Are you scared?” After a parent-teacher meeting, Tina, the Loudmouth Sister, started handing out snacks her parents had prepared. “My parents seriously love me and my brother so much. They give me this much food every day. I’m honestly sick of it.” Her sharp eyes landed on me. “Lola, why is it always your brother who comes to parent-teacher meetings? Don’t your parents care about you?” I put down my textbook and told her honestly, “My brother and I grew up in an orphanage. We don’t have parents.” “Someone doesn’t have parents?” Tina gasped. “Doesn’t that mean there are two fewer people in the world who love you and your brother? That’s so sad.” I knew she didn’t mean to be malicious, just a little tactless. So I replied, “I have my brother. That’s enough.” Maybe because we both had older brothers, Loudmouth Tina often clung to me. She started and ended every sentence with “my brother.” The argument happened that afternoon. Tina said, “It’s annoying. The pretty girl is already with my brother, but some clueless person is still asking her out, trying to steal my pretty sister!” Since she was insulting my brother, I wasn’t going to let it go. We started fighting, and inevitably, the topic returned to our brothers. Tina was smug. “My brother has twenty properties and seven sports cars. Does yours?” “My brother has a gorgeous girlfriend, does yours?” “My brother’s parents are whole and healthy, are yours?” … I was stumped. My brother didn’t have any of those things. But I couldn’t surrender now! So, I sneered, “My brother would eat dirt. Would yours?” That one sentence killed the conversation. Tina was speechless. When school ended, I saw Mark, the Hero, picking up Tina. Tina was clinging to Mark’s leg, tearfully trying to force him to eat dirt. I didn’t dare watch anymore. I stared straight ahead and walked home, stiff-legged. 2 Uncharacteristically, my brother didn’t come to pick me up. Usually, if he couldn’t make it, he’d text Mrs. Peterson next door and ask her to grab me when she picked up her grandson. I waited by the school gates for a long time but saw no sign of Luke Clark. Seeing the sky getting dark, I decided to walk home alone. When I arrived, I saw a thick stack of papers on the desk. They included my personal ID information, daily habits, and even detailed notes like ‘she only eats the leaves of vegetables.’ A sense of dread crept in. I put down my backpack and secretly slipped into my brother’s study. Luke was never cautious with me. I easily opened his computer. The last song playing was “I once wished I were dead.” His recent search history included: “How to leave entire inheritance to minor child?” “Top ten best foster homes in the country.” “Will a brother’s death leave lasting trauma on a sister?” … I took a deep breath, shut down the computer, and restored the study to its original state. Then, I called Loudmouth Tina. Half an hour later, my brother came home. He held the un-delivered flowers, his eyes red-rimmed, his smile strained. If I remember correctly, this was Luke’s seventh failed attempt at confessing. The girl he loved was the Female Lead, Sarah. Sarah was destined to be with Mark, the Hero. But my brother was the Villain. He didn’t know that. He just believed he wasn’t good enough. I stepped forward and hugged Luke around the waist. I looked up at him. “Bro, you’re finally home!” “I’m cooking tonight! I made you dinner.” I brought out a pot of soup that was a bizarre color and smelled strange. “And my mid-term grades are out!” I presented him with three test papers. All three scores were single digits. Added together, they were still less than my brother’s age. Luke’s hand, holding the papers, started to tremble. I hit him with the next bomb. “Bro, my teacher wants you to take me to a doctor. She says I might have ADHD. What is ADHD?” My brother closed his eyes, and when he reopened them, the light was gone. He hesitated. “I remember you got straight A’s last semester?” “Yep,” I stirred the soup. “But learning is boring. When I grow up, I’m going to get tattoos. Uncle Mike next door has a full sleeve. So cool.” Luke frowned. “Lola Clark, where did you learn all this nonsense?” He lectured me seriously for half an hour. I hung my head and replied vaguely. After lecturing me, my brother put on a small apron, ready to go to the kitchen. Just then, his phone rang. I looked at him, feeling deeply guilty. Luke paused and asked with weary affection, “What mischief have you been up to now?” He answered the phone. The man on the other end spoke with hesitant frustration: “You win. Okay?” “I genuinely couldn’t bring myself to eat that stuff.” The meaning was vague, and before my brother could ask me for an explanation, my watch-phone rang. Loudmouth Tina was crying so loudly her voice echoed through the whole house. “Waaah, Lola! My brother absolutely refuses to eat dirt!” “He said he can do anything I want and give me anything I want. I just want him to eat dirt, and he won’t!” “Can I trade him for a brother who will eat dirt?” 3 A dead silence fell over the living room. I secretly glanced up to check Luke’s expression. He pushed the pot of soup away, set my test papers aside, and lifted his chin. “Sit down.” When my brother’s face is expressionless, it’s quite intimidating. I sat obediently across from him and confessed. “Bro, I messed up.” “That phone call just now, was that Mark Hamilton’s sister?” When I nodded, my brother asked, “Since when?” “Since when what?” I looked up, confused. Luke closed his eyes. “Trading brothers. When did you start wanting to trade me?” Before I could answer, my brother began to self-reflect. “I’m sorry, Lola. I haven’t been a good brother. With the company problems lately, I haven’t been able to pay attention to your feelings.” “I know I’m not a good brother. It’s completely normal that you like someone like Mark and want him to be your brother.” Luke looked downcast. He forced a smile. “I didn’t take good care of you.” Seeing my brother getting sadder, I jumped off the chair and grabbed his hand. “But I don’t want to trade brothers with Tina!” “You are the best brother in the whole world!” Luke stared blankly at my hand gripping his. “But I don’t have twenty properties and seven sports cars.” I shook my head firmly. “Doesn’t matter!” “I don’t have a gorgeous girlfriend.” “I don’t care!” “I don’t have parents either.” “I have my brother, and that’s enough.” “Hmm.” Luke spoke softly. “But your brother won’t eat that… stuff…” I instantly shut my mouth. At that moment, the front door was hammered violently. Loudmouth Tina’s penetrating voice carried inside. “Lola Clark! I’m here to trade brothers!” Two more people squeezed into the small living room. Tina swaggered in, dragging Mark by the wrist. She wasn’t shy at all. She looked around the living room, and her eyes lit up when they landed on Luke. They were like lightbulbs turning on. Tina was satisfied. She dramatically pushed Mark in front of me and patted my shoulder generously. “I’m giving you my useless brother first. You’re going to stay in my mansion tonight. I’m going to stay here with Big Brother Luke.” Mark, as the author’s beloved Hero, was flawless. His only minor flaw was that he was an absolute sim-p for his sister, who was thirteen years younger than him. He spoiled her rotten and listened to her every word. Knowing his sister was just being impulsive, he spoke apologetically. “Mr. Clark, can my sister stay here tonight? We can negotiate the payment.” “What do you mean, tonight?” Tina looked at her brother with disgust. “You’re so useless. I don’t want you anymore. From now on, I’m Big Brother Luke’s sister. I’m going to live here forever.” She pushed me forward. “Lola, all my dresses, my dolls, my snacks—they’re all yours. All you have to do is agree to trade brothers with me.” I was completely unprepared for Tina’s obsession with “trading brothers.” I was about to refuse when Luke, who had been silent the entire time, spoke. His face was calm. “Fine. She’ll trade with you.” 4 I rushed into my room. I grabbed clothes from the closet and haphazardly stuffed them into my little backpack. The living room was full of Tina’s cheers. I could faintly hear Mark cautiously trying to persuade her. “Can I stay here with you, sis? I don’t feel comfortable leaving you alone.” Tina didn’t care. “Just leave the housekeeper here. You leave. Mr. Hamilton, we’re not related anymore. Don’t call me ‘sis’.” Mark was still trying to reason with her. I sniffled, suddenly wanting to cry. Luke didn’t want me. He saw me as a burden and had been planning to send me away all along. Even my failing grades and talk of tattoos didn’t make him care anymore. My brother didn’t want me. The door gently closed. Luke had come in without my noticing. He emptied the clothes I’d shoved into the backpack and folded them again, one by one. He even remembered to pack my favorite elephant thermos. After packing, Luke gently pinched my cheek. “Let’s go.” “Bro.” I spoke sullenly, staring at his retreating back. “Are you giving me up?” Luke seemed to freeze. After a moment, he turned around and forced another smile. “How could I?” Liars’ noses grow long. I sat in the Hamiltons’ car, clutching my backpack, and looked through the window at Luke, trying to memorize his appearance. He was leaning down, listening to Tina talk, occasionally smiling. Liar. Next time I saw Luke, his nose would definitely be long. I turned my head away, refusing to look at him anymore. The Hamilton mansion was bigger than I imagined. The car pulled up to the gate, and Sarah, the Female Lead, was already waiting there. I’d only heard about Sarah from Luke and Tina. The moment I saw her in person, I was momentarily stunned. Sarah was holding a small bear. She leaned closer to me, her eyes bright. The evening breeze moved her hair, carrying a faint scent of jasmine. “Welcome, little Lola.” My face felt hot. I buried my face in my backpack. “Uh-huh.” The adults must have coordinated. Dinner was all my favorite dishes. Maybe because I’d sampled my own horrifying soup earlier, I had no appetite. I quickly ate a few bites and left the table. I wandered through the Hamilton mansion and nearly got lost. Finally, Sarah led me to my room door. “Go inside and see! Do you like the room I decorated for you?” The room was covered in soft carpets, the closet held rows of pretty clothes, and various dolls were tucked into the corners. Luke spoiled me, but his small company had just started and was teetering on the edge of bankruptcy. I had never stayed in a room this grand. “I love it.” I nodded and added, “Thank you, Sarah.” Sarah poked the small topknot on my head, satisfied, and left. In the middle of the night, I woke up with a stomachache. I must have gotten sick from that awful soup I made. I was covered in cold sweat. I fumbled for the bedside lamp switch, but I was unfamiliar with the room and couldn’t find it. My slippers were also nowhere to be found. Standing barefoot on the carpet, I looked around the dark, unfamiliar room, and an overwhelming wave of misery crashed over me. I crouched down, hugging my knees, curled up in a ball. The pain came in waves, but I gritted my teeth, refusing to make a sound. After what felt like ages, I heard faint voices outside the door. “Do you think Lola’s asleep?” “She didn’t eat much dinner. Text Luke again and ask if there’s anything else she likes to eat.” “The air conditioning seems too cold. Is she going to freeze?” … The door hadn’t been fully closed and was pushed open slightly. The warm, yellow light from the hallway spilled in. Through my cold-sweat-dampened hair, I struggled to look up. “Lola!” The moment Sarah hugged me, I clung desperately to her clothes. I was rushed to the hospital that night. Fortunately, it wasn’t serious. When I woke up, Sarah and Mark were still watching over me. Only a dim small lamp was on in the room. I shifted slightly, and they immediately noticed. “Are you still uncomfortable?” When I shook my head, Mark asked, “Can’t sleep? Want me to tell you a story?” “Forget it. You only know those few stories. Let me tell one.” “A long, long time ago…” I fell asleep listening to Sarah’s gentle voice. As I closed my eyes, I thought spitefully, I wish Mark and Sarah were really my brother and sister. Luke didn’t want me, so I wouldn’t want him either.

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The school’s flag-raising ceremony was underway when a massive crack suddenly tore open the sky. Hordes of demons poured out. As teachers and students screamed and scrambled to escape, I rolled up the sleeve of my uniform and sighed: “Sword—come!” 1 I was a student secretly drafted into the world of cultivation. In recent years, the Spirituality Surge hit the world, bringing with it the possibility of demonic emergence. Those of us with detected Spiritual Roots were secretly trained to handle the inevitable monster apocalypse. My Spiritual Root was found right before my middle school final exams. No one knew that a secret Root Test had been added to the physical check-ups. I was found to possess a Supreme Single Water Root. When the expert called my mom, she thought I was being recruited by a top-tier prep school. She listened closer and decided the man was an unhinged scam artist. It took my middle school principal showing up in person for her to believe it was real. Cultivation wasn’t just ancient myth. 2 Having a Single Water Root meant I was a genius, even by the standards of the mythical ancient cultivator realm. So, I skipped my finals and got a full scholarship to the prestigious Northwest University of Cultivation, specializing in the Sword Arts. But my Master insisted I couldn’t drop my academic classes; otherwise, I wouldn’t even be able to read the ancient manuals. That’s how I ended up in the state’s best high school as a “specialist student.” Two years into high school, I spent one year training on Mount Kunlun. My desk partner, an art student, was super curious about my constant “training trips.” The day I returned to school, he couldn’t help but ask. He leaned on his hand. “What exactly do you do out there?” I told him the truth: “I’m learning how to save the world.” He snorted with laughter. “No way. Are you still stuck in your edgy phase?” I shrugged. “You normals wouldn’t get it.” He laughed even harder. We were talking at a normal volume. By the end of the day, the entire class knew I was a dramatic girl who fantasized about saving the world. By the next day, the entire grade knew: The girl in Homeroom 6 was the edgy one who fantasized about saving the world. 3 My reputation was so loud that the school bully came looking for trouble. Seriously, some of these high schoolers are just vicious. Saturday afternoon, after school, the bully cornered me in an alley. He held an unlit cigarette between his fingers—the bully’s fashion accessory. He raised an eyebrow. “You’re the one who talks about saving the world?” I nodded. He sneered. “Let’s see if you can save yourself first.” I figured he’d take a while, and my backpack was uncomfortable. I dropped it on the ground and faced him. “Go ahead. Start.” I could easily fly away on my sword, but you need to file a flight plan with local air traffic control to use a flying sword in a normal area. I am a law-abiding cultivator. The bully looked confused for a second, then lunged with a kick. He attacked first. That cleared my conscience. I threw a spirit-infused chop that knocked him unconscious instantly. He collapsed, and I noticed a blotch of black energy hovering over his brow. Clearly, he’d been tainted by demonic energy. No wonder he was so aggressive and targeted the one talking about saving the world. I plucked the demonic energy from his forehead, threw it on the ground, and crushed it. My intuition flared. The emergence of the real demons was close. 4 My premonition was correct. On Monday, during the flag-raising ceremony, the Principal was droning on during a painfully long speech. The sky suddenly changed. Dark clouds pressed down, promising an imminent storm. The leading teacher mumbled, “Did they get the weather forecast wrong?” The forecast wasn’t wrong. It was supposed to be a sunny day. A crack appeared in the sky. At first, everyone thought it was a flash of lightning and excitedly hoped the assembly would be cut short. Then, the crack grew wider and wider. A green-faced, sharp-fanged monster plummeted into the assembly lines. Screams erupted in a terrifying chorus. More and more demons dropped. Students and teachers ran frantically, scattering everywhere. As they fled, I walked against the tide toward the crack. My desk partner rushed back, grabbing my wrist. “What are you doing! Run!” I rolled up the sleeve of my uniform, reaching into the void. “Sword—come!” He looked frantic, his eyes red. “Are you serious?! Now is not the time for—” The short sword hidden in my backpack answered the call, singing as it flew out of the classroom, over the main building, and landed in my hand. The silver-white blade elongated, shining with a cold, moonlit glow. My desk partner’s jaw dropped. “Holy crap! You’re actually doing it?!” I had been practicing the sword for almost three years, but this was my first solo fight. My hand trembled on the hilt. I channeled my spiritual energy and unleashed a Sword Qi Slash. The first slash took off the head of the leading demon. Black blood splattered, and the gourd-like head rolled to my feet. My desk partner had never seen anything like it. He clapped a hand over his mouth and instantly wretched. Okay, I get it. This wave of demons isn’t very strong. I said, “Stay close to me.” 5 I swung my sword, slaughtering the ground demons chasing the students. My desk partner ran behind me, sweating profusely. “I wish I’d taken sports instead of art!” I cut down the demons like I was slicing vegetables. The number of monsters wasn’t huge. I cleared them out in half an hour. The ground was littered with demonic remains. The sky was clearing, but the crack hadn’t closed. I leaned on my sword and caught my breath. The teacher in charge was trying to restore order. The bald Principal picked up his fallen toupee and put it back on. He knew some of the truth, but even he was sweating and panicking. “What do we do now…” I said, “Don’t let everyone leave the campus yet. I saw a few demons fall outside the school grounds.” The crack in the sky was still open. Anything could drop out at any moment. The Principal thought for a moment. “Tell everyone to go back to class. City-wide mock exams are coming up soon.” I froze. “Huh?” He looked frustrated. “It might be a crucial lesson they’ll miss! One point in the finals is a thousand students’ difference!” I sighed. “…Fine.” 6 This was a different kind of apocalypse. Monsters were rampant, and everyone was terrified. I wanted to follow the logic of the survival novels I’d read: gather everyone and set up a barrier. My cultivation wasn’t high enough for a durable Spirit Barrier. But my sword was. This blade was retrieved from a museum. It was one of the few swords in existence still possessing spiritual energy, and it wasn’t on public display. My Master gave it to me when I first showed promise in training. It was so old no one remembered its name. I named it “No-Roll” (Bù Juăn), commemorating the fact that I no longer had to compete in the merciless academic “roll” (competition) of the regular world. I plunged the sword into the center of the sports field. A silver-white aura spread out, enveloping the entire school. My desk partner stood to the side, worried. “What about you without the sword?” I gave a casual smile. “Without that blade, I can still wipe out these demons.” Finally, I got to deliver a line that cool. 7 Everyone went back to class. Except me. I got my phone back from the teacher and reported to my Master. “There’s a crack in the sky above the school. Demons are emerging.” My Master’s voice was urgent. “Any casualties?” “None,” I said. He sighed in relief. “Hold out for a few more days. The sky is cracking in other cities too. I’m busy. I’ll deploy people as soon as possible.” Days? I was dumbfounded. “Master, I just reached the Foundation Establishment stage. I can’t last long.” He said, “I’ll send you online courses. Teach yourself.” I received a file of online courses, about 100 GB worth. Plus, digital practice questions: Five Years of Mock Exams, Three Years of Cultivation. My heart, which had just sunk, rose again. I wasn’t competing in academics anymore, but I still had to compete in cultivation.

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My fiancé fell for the scholarship student I sponsored. To prove his dedication, he defied his family and even showed up at our house to publicly break off the engagement. My dad was furious; my mom nearly fainted. Overnight, I became the laughingstock of our social circle. No one knew that we held a full family war council that very night. Every step was analyzed, every risk assessed. My Dad took a sip of tea: “Absence makes the heart grow fonder, and distance dulls the sting. Spend a few years abroad. Retreat is the best offensive.” My Mom’s expression was calm: “Change the narrative. She plays the fragile, pure flower. You become the unattainable, perfect ‘moonlight.’” I smiled: “Then I should start with a good case of depression.” 1 The day I returned home, my friends threw me a welcome-back party. Three rounds of drinks in, the private room was filled with laughter. The door opened. In the next moment, the warm atmosphere solidified into ice. The newcomers were none other than my ex-fiancé, Caleb Preston, and his girlfriend, Harper Stone. I turned my head and met a pair of cold, familiar eyes. Caleb’s gaze lingered on me for a beat too long, causing Harper’s face behind him to visibly sour. Everyone exchanged uneasy glances, cautiously watching my reaction. After a brief pause, I naturally raised a hand and invited them to join us. “Look who it is. Come on in, sit down.” It was as if the drama from three years ago had never happened. Caleb’s expression flickered with complexity, seeming about to speak, but he only gave a curt, neutral acknowledgment. Harper sat beside him, struggling to maintain a pleasant smile that couldn’t hide her stiffness. Everyone present knew the story: I pulled her out of poverty and paid for her education; she repaid me by stealing my fiancé. What kind of snake would stoop that low? No one respected a traitor. My family’s company, Chen Group, had grown exponentially over the years, quietly overshadowing Caleb’s family business, Preston Corp. The more astute guests, whether out of loyalty to me or simple business sense, deliberately isolated Harper. She was treated like a ghost during the constant toasts and conversations. She looked to Caleb for help, but he was unusually silent, allowing the subtle cold shoulder to continue. A lingering, assessing gaze kept falling on me. Even in the dim light, you couldn’t miss the pale, tight grip Harper had on her composure. Having enjoyed the show enough, I slowly raised my glass to rescue her. “You two are late. Three shots as a penalty. No objections? “Don’t try to weasel out of it. It’s tradition.” At my words, everyone’s expressions changed quickly, then they enthusiastically chimed in. “That’s right! Jane is back today, don’t be a buzzkill!” Caleb said nothing, downing the three shots neatly. He inverted the glass, not a drop spilled. His eyes met mine, an unspoken apology for the past three years. I gave a slight smile and looked at Harper. She picked up her glass and forced a grimace, but wouldn’t meet my gaze. I moved to clink glasses with her, but she flinched violently, as if avoiding the plague. The glass slipped, shattering on the floor. My friends couldn’t hold back. “Seriously, Caleb, what’s up with your girlfriend? Jane is being the bigger person, and she’s giving us attitude? Is she trying to ruin the party?” Caleb glanced at her, frowning in displeasure, but still defended her. “Harper didn’t mean it. That’s enough.” Harper lowered her head and apologized softly, her eyes welling up as if she were the one suffering. One of my friends who had no business ties to the Prestons was about to explode. “Oh, now you’ve done it, I’m about to—” I stopped him, my smile warm. “We’re all friends here. It’s no big deal. The past is the past; let’s not bring it up again.” I looked at Caleb and Harper, tilted my head back, and finished my drink, my eyes conveying reassurance. Caleb’s face softened, and a hint of a smile appeared in his eyes. Everyone took the hint: the feud was over. The atmosphere quickly warmed up again. 2 Later, I stepped onto the balcony to clear my head. Caleb’s slightly hoarse voice came from behind me. “How have the past three years been?” The wind gently rustled my hair, creating a moment of dramatic reunion. I turned, not missing the flicker of surprise and complexity in Caleb’s eyes. “After all that alcohol, how’s your stomach holding up?” I didn’t answer his question, prioritizing his health first. Caleb unconsciously covered his stomach, his expression momentarily distant. He’d always had stomach issues and was an incredibly picky eater. It took me a year to figure out his tastes and create a special, custom diet plan for him. Every day, I watched him eat, always carrying his medicine and healthy snacks. Yet, I was ultimately defeated by the girl who would take him to eat street food. Caleb quickly masked his surprise, looking at me with a complicated expression. “You don’t hate me?” I shook my head. “It’s all water under the bridge. We didn’t have an unresolvable conflict. Besides, how does the saying go? No deal is still a good friendship.” Caleb chuckled, the tension between us dissolving. He teased, “You’ve grown quite magnanimous.” I smiled back. “We just weren’t meant to be a couple. That doesn’t mean we can’t be friends, right?” In reality, after Caleb and I broke off the engagement three years ago, the relationship between our families became precarious. For the past three years, they’ve been commercial rivals, constantly engaged in open competition. Now, everyone in the circle knows my parents dote on me and is impressed by Chen Group’s momentum. Many power brokers warned their children: Get on Jane’s good side, or at least don’t cross her. The moment I returned, I was flooded with invitations from old and new acquaintances. One more person, Caleb, didn’t make much difference. Besides, our two families didn’t need to be so hostile. I believed Caleb’s presence today was likely his family’s attempt to ease tensions. After all, Preston Corp. was attracting too much attention and showing signs of strain; they didn’t need a powerful rival like us. Hearing the meaning in my words, Caleb’s brow smoothed out. He walked up to me, and we leaned against the railing, facing opposite directions. Our balanced, easy dynamic felt comfortable. In my peripheral vision, a flash of a white skirt vanished around the corner. I curled my lips. The coming months were going to be very interesting. 3 After that conversation, Caleb started contacting me frequently. He asked for my old custom diet plan, and I sent it all to him. I even meticulously reminded him of details, telling him to take care of his health. Caleb pretended to be annoyed by the hassle, but the warmth in his voice was undeniable. Instead of rushing back to the company, I used my precious free time to revisit old places. My social media was suddenly filled with pictures of old friends, old spots, and old memories. Caleb and I had known each other since we were teenagers, so how many of those memories involved him? Countless. I suspected he was glued to my posts, always being the first to like and comment. [The Dean is bald now, huh?] [Is that the same tabby we used to feed? Still not graduated?] [I remember we tied a ribbon to that old tree and made wishes. You wouldn’t let me read yours.] … I occasionally replied to a few neutral comments, but anything too boundary-crossing was met with a simple smile emoji. A certain actor’s new girlfriend streamed a critique of classic old songs. One of my favorites, a ballad I truly loved, she called “Creepy.” That night, I posted the song on my social media. Minutes later, Caleb called me, his voice barely hiding his fury. Caleb wasn’t a fan, but he went to every concert this singer held. That showed how much he loved the song. I quietly listened to him vent, occasionally agreeing and soothing him. We talked for over an hour. Then I heard Harper’s voice on his end. “Caleb, aren’t you done working yet?” Caleb paused but didn’t hang up, his tone irritated. “What are you doing here?” Harper’s voice rose, edged with accusation. “You’re on the phone with her again, aren’t you?” Hearing this, I hung up. That was a domestic dispute, and it wouldn’t do for an outsider to meddle. I softly hummed a tune, staring at the clock on the wall. My fingers tapped rhythmically on the desk. Three minutes later, Caleb called back. His voice held a hint of fatigue. “I’m sorry, Jane. You got dragged into that.” I spoke softly. “It’s fine. I understand Harper. She’s sensitive. You just need to spend more time with her and give her enough security.” I paused and added, “Our relationship is subtle, after all. It’s normal that she doesn’t like me. We should probably keep our distance.” Caleb was silent for a few seconds. I still caught the subtle impatience in his voice. “Haven’t I given her enough security? She’s the one who’s never satisfied.” After hanging up, I raised an eyebrow. I was abroad these past years, but I was fully aware of the situation back home. After breaking the engagement, Caleb spent days kneeling, refusing to eat or drink, forcing his family to accept Harper. Harper stayed by the Preston mansion gate, crying her eyes out just to see Caleb. The rebellious Young Master and the tenacious, pure flower—a love story in real life. The couple had successfully overcome every obstacle. It became a favorite topic of gossip. People would pretend to dab their eyes. “Such a moving romance!” “Better check if your fiancé has a true love outside. Hurry up and make way for them.” But the drama ends, and real life begins. The families’ cooperation fell apart. The Prestons couldn’t blame their son, so someone had to bear their anger. They immediately judged Harper, criticizing her every move. Wanna marry into high society? Learn manners and etiquette, stay home, and raise children. Work? Absolutely not. Are you going to embarrass the Preston name by earning a few bucks? Attend a banquet? Dream on. Let people mock us for letting a backstabbing homewrecker marry in? Harper, freshly graduated, hadn’t had a chance to prove herself worthy of Caleb through her career. She was forced to abandon her professional path for love. Caleb promised eternal love, so she became his devoted woman. Who needed a future when you could be Mrs. Preston? So, she had to cling tightly to Caleb. Any woman near him would set her off. Once or twice, it’s charming. Too many times, it’s annoying. Love driven purely by hormones is no match for the unchangeable heart. I sighed and looked at my other sponsored student, Lin, who was now my assistant. “Can you understand her actions?” Lin’s expression was cold, a hint of disgust flashing in her eyes. “I will never understand it. To have a promising future in sight and then stake everything on a man’s vague affection.” I mused, “Have Harper and her family not seen each other in a long time?” Lin nodded. “I’ll handle it.” 4 After that phone call, my renewed relationship with Caleb seemed to revert to its original state. I rarely replied to his calls or messages. I deliberately avoided the gatherings he organized. This sudden distance made Caleb panic. He approached Lin, trying to arrange a meeting. Lin sighed. “Didn’t you know? Someone is posting garbage about Jane online—all kinds of nasty rumors. Her depression flared up again. My Madam forced her into a private clinic.” Caleb froze. His dry voice sounded like it was squeezed from his throat. “Depression? What depression?” Lin realized her slip-up, a look of distress crossing her face. “I’m sorry, I can’t say.” Caleb could only plead with Lin to take him to the Chen residence. He hadn’t been to my house since the engagement was broken three years ago, and my parents wouldn’t let him near the door. As Lin drove him, she watched him in the rearview mirror. He was searching for news online, his brow furrowing tighter and tighter, his face growing rigid. A burner account on social media had leaked my information, accusing me of being the “other woman” who interfered with Caleb and Harper. They claimed I was boundary-crossing and clinging to Caleb after returning home. They even posted blurry photos of Caleb and me talking on the balcony at the welcome-back party, framed to look intimate. The online comments erupted: homewrecker, desperate socialite, and other vile insults were everywhere. Many friends defended me, but everyone knew whose hand was behind the account. They asked if I wanted to clarify or counterattack. I just smiled mournfully. “Forget it. Justice is in people’s hearts. I don’t want to pursue it.” The contrast was stark: I was the woman whose fiancé was stolen, who was then maliciously attacked online, yet I refused to retaliate. Even Mother Teresa would have been jealous. Though my friends joked, I held the moral high ground. The higher the flames of public opinion burned, the better it was for me and the Chen Group. I was afraid the fire wouldn’t be hot enough, so I secretly stoked the flames. Now, it was time for the next step. 5 When Caleb arrived at my house, my mother looked disgusted and tried to kick him out. “My daughter is unlucky every time she sees you. Get out!” He apologized profusely, even tearing up, pleading just to see me. “Aunt Jiang, is Jane sick with depression because of me? Please, let me see her. I won’t be able to rest.” My mother’s eyes flashed with coldness, but her expression was one of sad resignation. “Fine. Children are a debt you pay. Go see her.” After giving him the clinic address, Caleb rushed out. My mother exchanged a look with Lin. Lin gave a barely perceptible nod and followed him out. On the way, Lin vividly described the severity of my depression overseas. She painted me as a soulless puppet who had attempted suicide multiple times, only to be saved just in time. Caleb turned his head to look out the window. The reflection showed his reddened eyes. When he found me, I was sitting on the bed in a blue-and-white gown, staring blankly at a bird outside the window. The sunlight cast a fragile beauty on my face. Caleb’s hands, resting by his sides, tightened subtly. He tentatively spoke: “Jane?” I instantly stiffened, looking surprised and panicked. “Why are you here?” Caleb looked helpless. “Why didn’t you tell me you were sick?” I laughed dismissively. “It’s nothing major. My mom just exaggerates.” Caleb lowered his gaze, seeming unable to look at me. “Is your depression because of me—” I interrupted him. “It’s boring here. My phone was confiscated, and Mom even sent Lin to watch me. Why don’t you take me out?” I rarely showed such a pleading, spoiled attitude. Caleb froze, his throat bobbing. I waved my hand in front of his eyes, frowning in annoyance. “Well? Can you, or not?” He cleared his throat, a blush spreading across his clean-cut face. The mature coldness in his eyes softened, making him look like the awkward young man he once was. “Jane, you need to rest.” I turned my head away, refusing to speak. Caleb gave a soft laugh. He found an excuse to distract Lin, and I took the opportunity to slip out.

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My brother was strapped with a bomb, the timer ticking frantically. I was at the training base, my fingers nimbly tapping away at a video game controller. Minutes later, my fiancée, Iris Gray, kicked the door open and stormed in, her face ghostly pale. “Ron! The bomb is under ten minutes! Every bomb disposal expert in the city is waiting for you! You’re the only one who can disarm that kind of intricate device!” Her nails dug into her palms, drawing blood. Tears welled up in her eyes. I was the demolition expert nicknamed the “Grim Reaper’s Rival.” I could defuse any explosive device in milliseconds. But this time, I wouldn’t. My game character was instantly headshot. I clicked my tongue and drawled a lazy, “Oh.” My parents rushed in right behind her. My mom slapped me across the face. “Ron! Are you even human?!” “That’s your brother! Go save him right now!” I slowly showed them my right arm. The hand that had performed countless miracles was now encased in a plaster cast. “I’m truly unable. Car accident yesterday. This hand? It’s gone.” 1 They froze instantly. The air thickened like concrete. They stared at my cast-wrapped right arm. For a bomb expert, this meant the end of a career. My mom gasped in disbelief. “How could this happen? You were fine when you came home last night!” I forced a cold, cruel smile. “Guess it’s my destiny.” “I hadn’t been gone long when a truck slammed into me. Lucky it only ruined a hand.” My mother swayed, her eyes unfocused, her lips trembling. “What about my Ethan? He’s so young. Are we just going to watch him die?” I shrugged, expressionless. “What can we do? Just leave it to fate.” As soon as the words left my mouth, my dad suddenly erupted. His hand clamped down hard on my plastered arm. “Leave it to fate? I think you’re just jealous that we dote on your brother more, so you’re faking this injury!” The sharp, agonizing pain made my vision swim, but I bit my tongue and didn’t utter a sound. What was a little physical pain compared to the knives they’d plunged into my heart over the years? Eight years ago, at the police academy initiation, my face, which strikingly resembled the Police Chief’s, got me identified as the son the Rhodes family had lost eighteen years prior. I thought it was a divine blessing, a chance to return to my biological parents. But when I came home, I discovered my parents had adopted a boy a year older than me. They named him Ethan, the “Eternal Peak,” pouring all their hopes into him, and renamed me Ron, the “Rock.” The two vastly different names made me, already self-conscious, even more cautious. Ethan was kind to me. He’d ask the butler to prepare matching clothes, introduce me to his friends, and praise me in front of Mom and Dad. To meet his expectation, I studied relentlessly, desperate to become the family’s pride. Until now… Seeing my silence, my mom suddenly lunged, tearing at my shirt, screaming hysterically. “Say something! You planned this, didn’t you? You hate us, so you want him dead!” “How could I have given birth to a monster like you? Your brother was so good to you, and you’re heartlessly abandoning him!” “Have you forgotten? When you were hospitalized, he watched over you without sleeping! When you were bullied, he stood up for you!” My eyes burned, but I threw my head back and laughed. It was because I remembered it too clearly that the pain was gut-wrenching. My fiancée, Iris, looked at me with disappointment but tried to reason with me, biting her lip. “Ron, I know you harbor resentment, but this is a life-or-death situation! You can’t stand by for selfish reasons. Do you have any respect for that uniform you wear?” I didn’t say a word, grabbing the medical report from the table. “Comminuted fracture. I wasn’t lying.” My mom snatched the report. Reading the conclusion, she collapsed instantly. “My Ethan, if he dies, how can I go on living…” My dad, usually so commanding, now had red eyes. He pointed at me, roaring. “You’re a bomb expert! Even with a ruined hand, you can go there and instruct! Ethan is your flesh and blood, yet you show no concern and deliberately hide. You are intentionally seeking revenge!” My heart felt like a chunk had been carved out. I forced a smile. “Think what you like. I’m useless.” With that, I slumped into the training chair and closed my eyes. My indifference completely enraged my dad. He dragged me off the chair by my hair. “You will crawl to that site today if you have to! If anything happens to Ethan, you’ll pay with your life!” I sneered. “Chief Rhodes, you can drag me there, but my hand is gone. I can’t guarantee anything based on sight alone.” Iris suddenly stepped forward, grabbing my dad’s arm. “Chief Rhodes, why ruin your reputation over scum like Ron!” “I’ll handle the disposal!” Chapter 2 2 My mom shot up from the floor and grabbed Iris’s hands like a drowning woman clinging to driftwood. “Iris, can you do it?” My dad’s eyes regained their composure. “Iris, this isn’t a drill! I know you want to save him, but if anything goes wrong, you and Ethan will both…” Iris straightened her back and gave a perfect police salute, her voice ringing with certainty. “Chief Rhodes, rest assured!” “Ron and I have handled over five hundred explosive cases together. Every step is burned into my mind!” “Ron is heartless enough to let Ethan die, but Ethan and I grew up together. I can’t abandon him. I have to try my best!” She implied I was harboring a wicked motive and intended to let Ethan die. She was placing the guilt of murder squarely on my shoulders. Colleagues who rushed in upon hearing the commotion now looked at me with disgust. My dad returned a formal salute to Iris. “Regardless of the outcome, your family will be taken care of from now on. The police force needs people with your courage! If you return safely, the Captain’s position on the Serious Crimes Unit is yours!” He cast a cold glance at me. “As for certain heartless beasts who refuse to help, they don’t deserve this uniform!” A flicker of delight crossed Iris’s eyes. She glanced at her watch, her voice urgent. “Only three minutes left! We have to go!” “Wait!” As soon as I spoke, my mom’s hand slammed across my face again. “Ron, stop wasting time! Do you want your brother to die?” I wiped the blood from my mouth and gave a light laugh. “Am I required to give consent for the use of my proprietary disarming technique?” Iris froze, looking at me with shock and disappointment. “Ron! Are you insane? This is life and death, and you’re worried about irrelevant intellectual property?!” “No, it’s very relevant.” “If I don’t agree, you’re infringing on my patent. I can sue you.” “What do you think the sentence is for breaking the law while upholding it?” Iris trembled with anger. “You—!” My mother’s recently dried tears started again. She gripped my dad’s uniform, sobbing. “Rob, what do we do?” I looked at them and spoke calmly. “I might agree, but only if all the family assets are transferred to me. Not a penny goes to Ethan.” “But there’s only one minute left! You’d better decide!” My dad glared at me, then slammed his fist on the table. “Fine, I agree!” I hid the darkness in my eyes, calmly rubbing the plaster cast on my right hand. “Dad, you have to keep your word. I recorded all that.” My dad glared fiercely, then turned and left with the others. Once the three of them vanished around the corner, I slowly wiped the moisture from my eyes and tossed the fake diagnostic report into the trash. Three minutes later, a cheer went up on the large screen. “In the critical moment, Officer Iris Gray of the Special Tactics Unit turned the tide, successfully disarming the explosive device and saving the hostage…” I switched off the screen, walked out into the pouring rain, and made my way to my rental apartment. Only here did I feel like I had a home. Before I slept, a message popped up on my phone. “Tomorrow’s commendation ceremony: confess, or disappear.” I smirked, then downed the glass of milk laced with a sleeping aid. After tomorrow, everything would end. Chapter 3 3 The next morning, the top three trending topics all featured my name. #RonIsColdBlooded #RonDoesn’tDeserveTheBadge #RonShouldDie had millions of views. In the video, Iris, sporting a brand-new rank insignia, looked resolute. “As a police officer, saving lives is my duty. I’m not a hero; I just did my job.” Flashbulbs popped as reporters thrust microphones toward her. “There are rumors Ron refused to help because he was afraid failure would hurt his career. As his fiancée, what do you think of his actions?” Iris casually touched the engagement ring on her finger, smiling at the camera. “I can’t judge his choices, but since we’re a couple, my intervention is effectively his intervention…” “Besides, everyone has a selfish side. He must have had some selfish thoughts.” Her statement successfully redirected public outrage toward me, completely avoiding the fact that my arm was broken. Netizens attacked me relentlessly. Some even dug up my entire background, fiercely claiming I was trying to seize the family fortune by letting my brother die. “Ungrateful snake! Would he be anywhere without Ethan’s care and concern?” “He always had a dark personality. That’s why his adoptive parents abused him! The pitiful deserve what they get!” “I heard he stole things as a kid! How did he even get into the police force?” In two short minutes, #RonGetOutOfThePoliceForce# was the number one trending topic. I wanted to ignore it, but I underestimated the power of the online mob. A cab driver recognized me and sped away as soon as I hailed him. I walked to the commendation ceremony. I looked up and saw the scene of domestic bliss: my entire family of four. My biological parents and my fiancée, all clustered around Ethan, treating him like royalty. Seeing me, the smiles on their faces instantly froze. My mom’s eyes fixed on my right hand, which was now free of the cast. She screamed. “I knew it! You were faking it!” “What sin did I commit in a past life to give birth to a beast like you!” My brother, Ethan, his eyes red-rimmed, his voice hoarse, challenged me. “Little Ron, why? I’m your brother.” The room instantly exploded with noise. “Oh my god! He faked an injury to let his own brother die!” “The Rhodes family is worth hundreds of millions! That ungrateful viper wanted to inherit everything, that’s why he was eager to kill his brother!” “He’s deranged! Arrest him immediately!” I ignored the noise, focusing on Ethan’s handsome face. I once naively believed that though we weren’t blood-related, our bond was stronger than that of brothers. But I was too naive. Before I could speak, Ethan tore open his hospital gown, revealing shocking bruises all over his body. “Since it’s come to this, I don’t have to hide the truth for you anymore.” He turned to the cameras, tears perfectly sliding down his face. “Actually, my kidnapping… was planned entirely by my little brother, Ron…” “He’s the culprit. Of course, he wouldn’t save me!” “He’s been abusing me for the entire eight years he’s been back.” He pointed at the scars, his voice trembling. “He resented me for taking his place. Every time Mom and Dad were nice to me, he’d find an opportunity to hit me, burning me with cigarettes.” “I was afraid of upsetting Mom and Dad, so I kept it hidden…” Under the flashbulbs, the bruises on his body looked terrifying. My former comrades looked at me with revulsion. “He always looked so decent! A monster behind the scenes!” “A wolf in sheep’s clothing! He doesn’t deserve to live! He should be tortured!” My mom rushed to Ethan’s side, her trembling fingers tracing the bruises, sobbing. “You poor boy, why didn’t you tell me sooner?” “How did you endure all these years? It’s my fault for bringing that beast home and ruining your life!” Ethan let a single tear roll down his cheek, whispering miserably. “Every time I tried to say something, he’d threaten to have me thrown out. I didn’t want to leave you…” My mom’s eyes became lethal. She grabbed the microphone stand nearby and violently swung it at my head. “I shouldn’t have given birth to you! You plague, why don’t you just die!” Warm blood streamed down my brow into my eye, but I started laughing. How ridiculous. My own biological parents wished me dead. Just then, several Internal Affairs officers approached. “We received a tip-off about a suspected murder-for-hire plot. Who filed the report?” Ethan and Iris exchanged a secretive smile. My dad stepped forward immediately, pointing at me with sorrowful authority. “Officer Lee, my unfilial son is responsible for the murder-for-hire.” “Take him away…” He was cut short by my voice. “I filed the report.” Chapter 4 4 The venue instantly fell silent. Whispers spread through the crowd. “He’s that arrogant? Trying to confess to get a lighter sentence?” “Absolutely sickening! He needs the maximum penalty!” “Why would someone call the police on themselves? Could there be something else going on?” I endured the pain, raising my head with difficulty, enunciating every word. “I, Ron Rhodes, formally accuse my brother, Ethan Rhodes, and my fiancée, Iris Gray, of colluding to hire a killer and repeatedly trying to murder me!” Silence again. Ethan’s face was white. Tears filled his eyes, and he shook his head in disbelief, arguing back. “Little Ron, how can you twist the truth? You’re the one who hired the killer to kidnap me and destroy the evidence with a bomb! If Iris hadn’t saved me, I might be dead already…” Iris bit her lip, forcing calm. “Ron, your lack of moral bottom is chilling. The evidence is clear. The explosive device tied to Ethan is the exact type you use for practice! Stop being delusional. Confess now, and you might get leniency!” Some people in the crowd were starting to doubt the initial story, but the couple’s explanation renewed the disgust in their eyes. My mom shielded Ethan, spat viciously at me. “Beast! Trying to smear your brother even now!” I suppressed the faint throbbing in my heart and raised my phone, playing a security camera video. In the footage, Ethan was completely calm, obediently letting the black-masked kidnapper bend down and strap the bomb to him. “Brother, can you explain why you were so cooperative with the kidnapper?” A colleague’s face grew serious. He couldn’t help but ask. “Yes, why was Ethan so submissive? A hostage should be terrified. His composure is unusual…” A flash of panic crossed Iris’s eyes. Her trembling hands betrayed her anxiety, but she maintained a tough facade. “That doesn’t prove anything! The kidnappers were ruthless! Ethan’s submission was his only chance to survive until the bomb squad arrived! If he had resisted, he might have been killed on the spot!” Ethan nodded in agreement. “Yes, the kidnapper held a gun to my back. If I’d resisted, he would have shot me!” He continued to plead with me. “Little Ron, stop this stubbornness. The kidnapper has been caught. Dad is arranging the interrogation. You should confess soon. And don’t talk nonsense without evidence. You claim I hired a killer, but everyone who knows us knows I’ve always been the kindest to you.” I cut him off with a cold laugh. “If you think that evidence isn’t direct enough, how about something more concrete?” “The net of heaven has wide meshes, but nothing escapes it. Your wicked schemes will eventually be fully exposed!”

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My ex-boyfriend came back to town, and my usually composed and proper husband started slipping up repeatedly. I accidentally found his journal: [What do I do? That jerk is back! Will they rekindle things? After all, he is the child’s biological father!] [No, no! She’s a responsible person! She wouldn’t just abandon me!] [But they are the real family of three! Waaah, what do I do~ I’m going to lose my wife and kid~ I don’t want to live~] I exploded: “You can say what you want, but don’t call me a cheater!” My husband’s eyes were red, enduring the humiliation. “You and I both have double eyelids. Only our son has single eyelids. It must be inherited from his real father!” I lost it. “I got a double eyelid lift! So what?! I’m coming clean! Is getting plastic surgery a crime?! Am I eating your food?!” “…” 1 My ex-boyfriend, Jake Zhao, was back in the States. The guy had vanished overseas for years and was now a huge success. A bunch of friends arranged a welcome-back party for him. I was on the invitation list. At first, I didn’t want to go. My son’s kindergarten was hosting a charity fair on Friday, and I was busy making him a display board. But my friend kept calling me. “Come on, come on! You’ve been cooped up with the kid for years. It’s a chance to catch up with the crew!” I complained, “I’m genuinely swamped lately!” Trying to balance a career and family life means completely exhausting yourself. And that’s with my husband fully involved! Raising a child is no joke. My friend teased, “You aren’t scared of reigniting the old flame, are you? Is that why you don’t want to see Jake?” What kind of nonsense is that? That drama is ancient history. Since both my hands were occupied, my phone was on speaker. To stop them from saying anything else ridiculous, I gave in. “Fine, fine. See you tomorrow.” I hung up and heard a sharp crack. I turned around to see my husband, Leo Chen, silently crushing a drinking glass. “?!” 2 “Are you okay?” I quickly went over to bandage him up. “Dude, how could you be so careless?” Leo’s face was dark. It took him a moment to snap back. He ignored the cut on his hand and hugged me tightly. I asked suspiciously, “Are you… feeling down lately?” We’d been married for four years. Leo was always mature, generous, and emotionally stable. But recently, he’d been acting weird. Not long ago, a client signing a new contract happened to mention Jake’s award-winning jewelry design overseas, and Leo immediately refused to renew the contract with them. One designer at our company was a massive Jake fan and constantly praised him. Leo found out and fired him. Keep in mind, the company spent a lot of money training that guy, and we hadn’t even broken even on the investment! His secretary, Mary, told me all this. She even delicately hinted that Mr. Chen was moody and often snapped at them for no reason. “Ma’am, it’s so normal for people to have emotional issues these days… The CEO has a lot on his plate, so he’s bound to be, ahem, in a bad mood.” She was basically telling me to take Leo to the hospital… I thought, Is this my stable, perfectly put-together CEO husband? He seems like a totally different person. I’m usually pretty clueless and insensitive. But trying to trace back, I found a pattern. His weird behavior started the day Jake announced he was returning! 3 I slowly turned around. Could it be that Leo was jealous of my ex? That was incredibly amusing. Once I finished the display board for our son, I stood up and stretched. Leo finished cleaning up and took our son to bathe. That’s when my longtime best friend, Cheryl, called. “Jane, I hear you’re going to Jake’s welcome-back party tomorrow?” Are these people all psychic? The news travels fast! I said casually, “Yeah.” Cheryl drew out the word. “Jake just won that international award, right? Why is he coming back? Be honest, is it for you?” I thought, What does this have to do with me? Yes, Jake and I were childhood sweethearts. We grew up together. We even had a huge, dramatic engagement. When I was six, my first wish was to marry him. But I got over him ages ago. Why hasn’t anyone else? Could it be because our breakup was so messy? 4 Four years ago, I was Jake’s fiancée. Our families were close friends going back to our grandparents’ generation, making Jake and me the classic childhood sweethearts. The adults even joked about an arranged marriage when we were kids. As we grew up, we were the acknowledged golden couple. I often dreamed of being Jake’s beautiful bride, spending a romantic life with him surrounded by our loving families. Nice thought, but the reality was… annoying. Jake was tender, thoughtful, and charming. Being his girlfriend was wonderful. But he was an artist—born romantic and naturally flighty. He liked me, but he also liked all beautiful people and things. Besides me, he had countless female friends, sisters, and admirers who flocked to him because of his talent, looks, and wealth. After we officially got engaged, he didn’t change his ways. He went to bars to flirt, hit the ball court to chat up women, and showed zero remorse. Jake and I fought hundreds, maybe thousands of times over it. He always swore he was wrong, but his actions never changed. The last time, I found him passionately making out with a freshman he’d just met at a bar. His face was covered in her lipstick prints. In that moment, I didn’t feel anger; I felt exhaustion. I was tired. I couldn’t keep going. I was still young, with a long life and meaningful things ahead. I couldn’t be stuck forever playing cat and mouse with Jake. “Let’s call off the engagement and break up,” I said calmly. Jake forcefully pushed the girl away and pleaded, “Honey, I was just drunk! Don’t be mad!” I said clearly, “Stop explaining. I don’t want to hear it. This is the first time I’ve asked for a breakup, and it will be the last. I keep my word, you know that.” Jake was terrified. He refused to agree, frantically hugging me and begging. “Jane, I’m sorry, I’m sorry! Please forgive me! We have twenty years of history!” No matter how I hit or yelled at him, he clung to me like a stray dog, promising to be faithful. But I couldn’t believe him anymore. To make him give up, I married my current husband, Leo Chen, quickly. It took only two blind dates, and then we were married. At my wedding, Jake showed up drunk, cried dramatically, and caused such a scene it became the day’s top trending topic. “Golden Couple’s Final Split: Man Regrets Profusely, Humiliated Like a Stray.” 5 Maybe it was too embarrassing, but Jake left the country soon after. I settled down with Leo, and we started our life together. The last four years have been happy and fulfilling. Soon after we married, I got pregnant. We had our precious son, Timmy, quickly becoming a family of three. Timmy was difficult when he was a baby. He cried all night, leaving me, my mother, and the nanny exhausted. Only Leo could soothe him to sleep. Every time I saw my tall, handsome husband lovingly holding the baby, softly singing broken lullabies, that massive contrast was incredibly sexy. I desperately wanted to jump him right there. Yes, our intimate life has been very harmonious. I love Leo’s scent. He never wears cologne; he has a warm, clear, sun-like scent that makes me feel safe. I don’t know if he truly loves me, since we met through an arranged blind date and our backgrounds were simply compatible. But I believe he likes me and is satisfied with me. Lately, I’ve been busy with Timmy’s school project and my own work deadlines. We haven’t had a proper, intimate moment in days. Decision made. After the welcome-back party tomorrow, Leo and I are having a candlelit dinner and a bath together. I’ll use his favorite “Blooming Cherry Blossom” scent.

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“I’m back. Do you still want me?” I sank into thought, staring at the text message from my first love. Liam grabbed my phone, his brows furrowed. “Why are you looking through my phone?” “I’ve told you, Chloe is the most important person to me.” Seeing my silence, he added, “Of course, I won’t divorce you.” My heart jumped. He clearly misunderstood. “That’s my phone you’re holding.” Liam’s face instantly hardened. “Who is this man?” 1 “I’m back. Do you still want me?” There was no other information, but I instantly knew who it was. The face that came to mind pulled me into a deep memory, and I didn’t even notice when Liam walked up behind me. He snatched my phone, his brows tightly furrowed. “Summer, since when did you start checking other people’s phones?” I saw a hint of disgust in his eyes. Before, he was mostly indifferent or distant towards me, never this outwardly emotional. “I’ve told you, Chloe is the most important person to me.” I blinked. Did he really tell me that voluntarily? No. I accidentally overheard their phone call, and only when he couldn’t hide it anymore did he “confess.” And that was after we got married. No, it wasn’t a confession. It was a notice. Seeing my continued silence, he added, “Of course, I won’t divorce you.” My heart jumped. His misunderstanding was complete. I couldn’t help but correct him. “That’s my phone you’re holding.” Liam scrolled up. There was only that one message. It really wasn’t his phone. Liam’s expression instantly became dark. “Who is this man?” 2 I knew that the more I hedged, the more Liam would suspect me. So I explained honestly. “It should be my ex.” Liam’s grip tightened on the phone. I had to remind him again before he handed it back. I didn’t blame him for the confusion; both our phones looked identical. Even the message was exactly the same. His “Chloe” had sent him the exact line: “I’m back. Do you still want me?” The timing was uncanny. The only difference was the date, a small detail that was easy to miss. Liam, who had been in a rush to leave, now lingered. He sat on the sofa, seemingly casually pressing me. “He’s your ex?” Though I’d already answered, I nodded again. “He’s my ex.” He was also my first love, childhood sweetheart, and my fiancé by family agreement. “How long did you date?” “A little over a year.” If dating only counted from our first kiss, then yes, it was only a little over a year. “When did you break up?” “2019.” The year before Liam and I got married. Time truly flew. Liam and I had been married for almost five years now. Liam’s body language relaxed, as if the man on the other side of the text wasn’t much of a threat. “Since our fifth anniversary is coming up, why don’t we go to…” “Does your proposal about us having an open relationship still stand?” Liam and I spoke at the same time, both pausing awkwardly. He stared at his shoes, lost in thought. I decided to take the lead. “What were you just saying about going somewhere?” “To the family estate.” I breathed a sigh of relief. Good thing I hadn’t let myself get my hopes up. Any other time, I might have thought he meant celebrating our anniversary. Liam fell silent again. I looked at his half-shadowed face; his expression was neutral, giving away nothing. I gathered my courage and asked again. “Does your proposal about us having an open relationship still stand?” 3 He had said those words two months ago. He was likely annoyed by my constant questioning and snapped: “Can you stop staring at me all the time? Fine, we’ll have an open relationship. You go find someone else, too.” Back then, the pain made it hard to breathe. But now, I was almost grateful he had said it. Time, the best director, never lets anyone off the hook. But if you learn to roll with it, it brings unexpected surprises. Liam gave a smirk that didn’t reach his eyes. “Yes. Of course, it stands.” He stood up and walked swiftly. Just as his hand reached the doorknob, he paused. He didn’t turn around, but his voice was clear. “Even though I said we can have an open relationship.” “You are still my wife. Don’t be too flashy.” I responded meekly, “Understood.” I would simply follow his standard. I definitely wouldn’t cause a scene by setting off fireworks across the city or starting a brawl at a dinner party, like he did. Liam finally turned and looked at me. “You’d better tell him you’re married first.” “If a scandal breaks out, it will reflect badly on both our families.” I nodded. His reminder was valid. I would tell him. I looked at Liam. He still showed no sign of leaving. “Anything else you need to lecture me about?” He unconsciously tapped his fingers against his trouser leg. “What’s his name?” “I don’t mean anything by it. I’m just concerned you might get scammed…” I cut him off. “Ethan Han.” “Ethan Han? The CEO of FlameTech? Harrison Han’s son?” “I believe so.” I didn’t know if he was the CEO of FlameTech, but his dad was definitely Mr. Harrison Han. This time, Liam didn’t hesitate. He turned and walked out without looking back. 4 Liam sat in his car, feeling irritated. He wasn’t sure what was bothering him. He thought of Ethan Han and felt slightly reassured. He knew the man, having dealt with him once or twice. Ethan was successful, handsome, and rich—nothing less than Liam himself. More importantly, he was a man of principle and pride. It was likely he sent the message without knowing I was married. A man like that wouldn’t stoop to stealing another man’s wife. Besides, I didn’t have that kind of irresistible charm. His phone rang. It was Chloe. He had promised to take her to a new restaurant today. He answered after three rings. “Something came up. I’ll take you next time.” Chloe sounded slightly disappointed but gracefully told him to take care of his business first. See? This was the kind of woman he liked—considerate, sweet, and simple. Not sharp and aggressive, constantly demanding answers, like I was. 5 After much thought, I decided to text Ethan back. [Ethan, is that you?] [It’s me.] His reply took so long I almost thought he wouldn’t answer. Our breakup had been brutal, a betrayal in his eyes. He left the country immediately and hadn’t returned in years. I genuinely thought we’d be estranged forever. I slowly moved on a year after he left. Then I married Liam. At first, I enjoyed the feeling of being with Liam. His charisma focused all my attention on him, helping me forget my troubles. I thought I might truly fall in love with him. But in the fourth year of our marriage, his “moonlight” returned. The girl named Chloe. She was back. It was a clichéd, dramatic story. His family had forced her to leave years ago. When she returned, crying and telling Liam everything, all his principles vanished. When I discovered the affair, he told me resolutely that Chloe was the most important person in his life. He said that if she hadn’t left, I would never have married him. But we both tacitly avoided divorce. Five years of marriage meant six years of cooperation between the Song and Chen families. The financial entanglement was too deep to easily untangle. But having an open relationship was fine. In this circle, such things were common, and they certainly wouldn’t jeopardize money. I was nervous. I had changed so much over the years. I wondered what Ethan was like now. [I’m married.] I struggled to type those few words. The anxiety stretched time. After what felt like an eternity, he replied with a single question mark. I bit my lip, agonizing over what to type. Finally, I screenshotted the image I received earlier and sent it to him. [What does this mean?] The tension was agonizing. I typed and deleted, trying to find the right words. [Although I’m married, our relationship isn’t what you think.] Before I could finish the sentence, he sent an image. His image was blank. The text “I’m back. Do you still want me?” was missing. I realized there must be some mistake. I desperately tried to delete the partial message I’d typed, but my eyes were too blurry with tears. In my panic, I sent the unfinished message. I quickly wiped my tears and retracted the text. After a few seconds, he sent a new message. [We were playing Truth or Dare this afternoon. My friend grabbed my phone and sent that. He deleted it immediately, and I didn’t know. I apologize if it caused you any distress.]

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The System told me to raise the kid. But I was totally useless growing up. The young villain came home holding two perfect test papers: “I’m going to Harvard!” I shoved my Call of Duty controller at him: “What good is Harvard? Help me hit Rank A first!” After finals, the young villain looked crushed: “I got the highest score in the grade, but it was one point lower than last time. I need tutoring.” I promised while eating takeout: “Sure thing.” I immediately enrolled him in a Gourmet Cooking class. During his rebellious phase, the villain said he was going to the arcade. Afraid he’d get into trouble, I secretly followed him. I watched him detour straight into the public library. I thought, Seriously? Years later, the Harvard-educated villain became a rising star in the business world, achieving massive success. During a speech at his alma mater, someone asked his secret to success. He looked down at me—sitting in the audience, chewing a massive piece of gum, playing a mobile game, and listening to an audiobook—and said coolly, “Having a very fun-loving aunt.” I thought, Wait, what? 1 When the System brought me to Luke, he had just lost his mother. He wore a black armband, his long lashes lowered as he quietly wrote at his desk. Hearing the commotion, the thin young boy barely lifted his eyes, gave me a fleeting, neutral glance, and buried himself back in his books. System: “Alright, your current identity is his…” I jumped in immediately: “Aunt.” System: “A stepmother wouldn’t work? It sounds so much cooler and distant.” I argued: “What do you know? An Aunt is the most loving, glamorous person in a kid’s life! Rich and stylish! I was my Aunt’s most loyal servant growing up! See? Instant connection!” With that, I flipped my big, wavy hair, walked forward on ten-inch heels, and flashed a charming smile. “Luke?” The lean boy didn’t stop writing. He murmured a quiet “Mm.” “It’s almost Christmas break. Why are you still studying?” I reached out to ruffle his soft hair. “Such a good boy…” The moment my hand touched him, Luke violently flinched away. He instantly covered his head with both hands, eyes tightly shut. His whole body was trembling slightly. I froze. Just as I was about to ask what was wrong, I saw the bruises on his wrist—a vivid blue-purple against his pale skin. The System explained: Luke’s mother had developed a mental illness after the divorce. When she was well, she’d cook and clean for Luke. When she had an episode, she would see a 99% score on his test and beat him with a willow switch. She would scream hysterically, “I work myself to the bone to provide for you! Is this how you repay me? You won’t do anything else! You will only study! I only have you left! If you don’t succeed later, I’m ruined!” Eventually, her voice would fade to a thin, strained whisper: “Luke, are you hurt? Come here, let Mommy rub it better…” Luke would crawl up from the floor, raw, bloody stripes crisscrossing his delicate skin. He never cried or hid. He would let his mother vent, then quietly say, “It doesn’t hurt, Mom. I’m going back to study.” And he would sit perfectly still at his desk. Even though his shoulders ached, he would stubbornly grip the pen and start writing, crookedly. 2 I listened in silence. I felt a pang of relief that Luke’s mother was finally gone. Forgive me, Buddha, for my uncharitable thoughts. 3 I might not know much about raising kids, but I was a kid once. I decided to give Luke the happiest, most unforgettable childhood ever. I grabbed the System’s foot and shook, shake, shook until a stack of cash and a black card fell out. “Thanks for the cash.” The System clung to my leg, pitifully. “Host, that’s my emergency fund!” I used my best manipulation tactic: “I’m not saying I won’t pay you back! I’ll give you half the gold coins I earn once the mission is done!” Gold coins were way more valuable than earthly money. The System instantly straightened up, happily wagging its nonexistent tail. “Spend it all! Don’t hold back!” That evening, I wheeled a small cart piled with snack bags and burst through the door with a dramatic shout. “Luuuuke! Guess who’s here!” I dumped the snack bag onto Luke’s book-covered desk. Then I hauled a stack of the newest smartphones, tablets, laptops, and game consoles off the cart. I shoved the whole pile into Luke’s arms. “Here, your Christmas gifts from Auntie.” Luke looked stunned. His dark eyes flickered between me and the mountain of snacks and gadgets. After a moment, he tightened his lips and said in a quiet voice, “Thank you, Auntie. I will study hard.” He bent down to pick up his fallen pen, intending to return to his work. The poor kid! I grabbed his arm. “I didn’t buy these to motivate you to study!” Luke blinked, looking utterly confused. I pulled his hand. “Stop studying. Come on, Auntie is taking you out to have some fun!” When it came to fun, no one could beat me. I was the biggest distraction in my circle growing up. My parents were easygoing, thinking that as long as I was healthy and happy, that was enough. I agreed with them. Just existing is hard enough. 4 I took Luke out. We ate snacks, played video games, and even sang karaoke until almost midnight. We then went outside and set off fireworks together. Luke wanted to go to sleep. I yawned. “Auntie is getting old. I can’t hang anymore.” I stumbled inside and collapsed on the sofa. The System also collapsed near my feet, exhausted. “You are such a chaos agent…” When I got up later to use the restroom, I saw the light on in Luke’s room. Through the crack in the door, the slender-shouldered boy in a clean white shirt was writing, head bowed. The clock showed 3:30 AM. I burst through the door. “Luke!” The boy jumped, turning to me with a flicker of genuine fear in his eyes. “I’m almost done reviewing this week’s content! I won’t play anymore! Auntie, please don’t be mad…” I was confused. “What are you talking about? I just wanted you to sleep…” The System whispered in my ear: “Before, Luke’s mom took him out for fun, and then had an episode that night. She beat him and forced him to study all night to ‘make up’ for the lost time…” Oh, Luke had PTSD. He automatically assumed I would do the same. The shadow his mother left was bone-deep. My heart ached. I walked over and took the pen from his hand. “You’re already doing great. But rest is more important. Health comes first. I don’t care about grades. I just want you to be happy and healthy, okay?” Luke looked puzzled, but he responded obediently. “Okay, thank you, Auntie.” System: “He didn’t listen at all. His mom’s influence is too deep.” I smiled. “It’s okay. We have plenty of time.” 5 I stayed up late again. Half-asleep, I heard the System reciting vocabulary. “Hysterical… what’s the English word for hysterical?” I didn’t open my eyes. “Hysteria is ‘meltdown.’ Histeri is ‘delicious’…” Wait a minute. Something was wrong. Seriously wrong. I shot out of bed and saw the System sitting there, holding a textbook, looking smug in a pair of fake gold-rimmed glasses. I kicked the book away. “What are you doing? Are you studying for a PhD?” The System pushed up its glasses. “Seeing Luke study has deeply moved me. I don’t want to be an ignorant schmuck anymore. I want to improve myself.” I caught the important part. “Luke is still studying!” I looked at the wall clock. 4:00 AM. Seriously? I rushed to Luke’s room. Sure enough, he was hunched over his books. “No, no, no. He’s going to study himself to death.” I negotiated a deal with Luke. He could only study until midnight every day. Otherwise, Auntie would blast karaoke in his room. Luke frowned but agreed. System: “Hehe, Host, do you know why he agreed so fast?” Me: “Why?” System: “Because your singing is absolutely terrible.” I thought, You just wait. 6 It was Luke’s birthday. I baked a strawberry cake with messy writing: “Happy Birthday, Luke!” I forced the System to transform into a cute tabby cat. When Luke saw the little cat in my arms, his eyes lit up. I handed him the cat generously. “Feel free to pet him!” The System wasn’t used to being held and opened its mouth to bite Luke’s arm. I coughed. The System instantly snapped its mouth shut, glaring at me furiously. The candles were lit. The warm, yellow glow reflected in the boy’s dark eyes. “Happy Birthday to you~” System: “Meow meow meow~” I cut a slice and handed it to Luke. “For our cute birthday boy!” System: “Meow meow meow meow meow!” Luke looked at the cake, hesitated, then took it and ate it in small bites. Satisfied, I was about to cut another slice. Then, Thump. Luke fell straight down, eyes closed. A rash of red hives quickly spread over his pale neck. I gasped. System: “MEOW!!” I swatted it. “You’re too old to be cute, got it? Call 911!” At the hospital, I learned Luke was severely allergic to milk and couldn’t eat anything containing it. When I returned, the boy on the hospital bed was awake. His small, thin face looked fragile in the cold light. Our eyes met. His dark eyes flickered with a brief hint of fear. I rushed over, my eyes tearing up. “Luke!!!” Luke stammered, his eyes wide with panic. “Auntie, I’m fine. I won’t fall behind in my studies. I can go home right now…” Before he could finish, he felt a warmth settle on him. He looked up to see my worried face. I was pulling a gigantic, bright red, floral-patterned puffer jacket onto him that I’d bought from a shop downstairs. “Come on, arms up.” Luke was confused but obediently raised his arms. I quickly bundled him into the jacket, stepped back to admire my work, and couldn’t help but laugh. “A little festive, huh?” Luke thought, Seriously? “You must be warm now. I rushed out and didn’t grab a proper coat, so I just bought this.” Luke nodded hesitantly, then whispered cautiously, “Auntie, I’m sorry. I wasted your time…” I ruffled his hair. “Nonsense.” “Do you know you’re allergic to milk? You have to remember that! You scared me half to death…” “I know.” My smile froze. “What?” Luke turned his head, his long lashes fluttering. “I knew I was allergic to milk.” “Then why did you eat it?” I was genuinely frustrated. Was this kid trying to hurt himself? “But you spent a long time making that cake…” I froze. The noise around me seemed to fade. A warmth spread from my chest to my eyes. I sighed and stroked his head. “It was my fault for not checking. But listen, I made that cake because I wanted to. It wasn’t a form of moral blackmail to make you eat it even if you’re allergic.” “I only want you to take good care of yourself first, not prioritize other people’s feelings.” “Got it?” Luke nodded. I wasn’t sure if he understood, but his eyes seemed to brighten a little, like packed snow reflecting the winter sun.

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I intentionally picked the same college as my sworn rival. The day my acceptance letter arrived, I smugly showed it off to him. “Same college, huh? Leo Han, as long as I’m around, you’ll never be number one. You’ll be stuck underneath me your whole life.” Leo smiled but said nothing. I was furious at his lack of reaction. But at the graduation dinner that night, scrolling text suddenly flashed across my vision: [Sweetheart Jane is an adult today! Time for some romance, yay~] [Our girl thinks Leo is always provoking her, but that creep has been deliberately tanking his scores the whole time.] [Being ‘stuck underneath’ her for life? He’d kill for that.] I was so shocked I nearly dropped my wine glass. I looked up and met Leo Han’s soft, yet intense, hazel eyes. He gently steadied me. His clear voice, laced with seduction, whispered in my ear: “Sweetheart, want to try a different way of keeping me down?” 01 A few lines of text refreshed before my eyes. [Sweetheart Jane is finally an adult. Leo can finally stop acting like a saint.] [He’ll probably confess tonight. Little Leo has been holding back for years; it’s time for the fireworks.] I choked on the soda I’d just sipped. What the heck? Little Leo? Was that what I thought it was? My friend, Shelly, patted my back. “Slow down. No one’s racing you.” “Hey, watch my bag. I’m hitting the restroom.” I quickly nodded, relieved when Shelly walked away. I rubbed my eyes, and the text vanished. Weird. Had I been studying too hard? Was I losing it? [Sweetheart Jane looks a little dazed. So cute.] [When is Leo Han going to show up? If he doesn’t hurry, someone else is going to confess to her.] I thought, Holy cow, it’s not a hallucination. 02 [Ugh, I wish Sweetheart would figure it out already. Every time Leo tries to flirt, she thinks he’s provoking her. That wasn’t provocation, girl, it was foreplay!] I thought, Leo Han flirting with me? Impossible. That guy only ever showed up with a perfect test paper and condescended: “Want me to explain this one? You got it wrong twice.” I was already mad at myself for the mistake, and he just added fuel to the fire. Do you call that flirting? Take that ‘flirting’ and shove it! [That manipulative bastard even controlled his score on the final exams just to keep her happy.] [When Sweetheart showed off the day before yesterday, saying she’d ‘keep him down’ forever, he probably nearly climaxed right there.] I thought, Is this a respectable comment section? This is terrifying. I reached for my glass to calm my nerves. My foot slipped, and I stumbled as I turned. I quickly grabbed the back of the chair, but at the same time, a hand caught my waist. It tickled. I turned my head and met Leo Han’s slightly curved hazel eyes. He wore a crisp white button-down, emphasizing his broad shoulders and narrow waist. Standing there, he was the picture of a charming villain. His clear voice, when he finally spoke, was laced with mockery. “What’s the matter? You can’t stand still the moment I show up?” 03 Leo Han was a psychopath. A simple slip of the foot became something flirtatious in his mouth. I rolled my eyes. “Get lost. Stay away from me. I hate looking at you.” Leo didn’t retreat; he advanced, trapping me between the table and his body. “Why the sudden hate again? Aren’t you happy you scored two points higher than me?” I was happy, but the streaming comments said he had controlled his score. That meant I hadn’t truly won. What was there to be happy about? I pushed him, creating distance. “I just hate looking at you. You annoy me.” Leo raised an eyebrow and finally stepped back. “Fine.” I looked at him suspiciously. Why was he being so compliant? The next second, he grabbed a glass and took a sip of water. I thought, Oh. He was thirsty. He wore that stiff shirt, so he was probably overheating. Wait, why does that glass look familiar? Oh my God! “You jerk! That’s my glass! Can’t you use a new one, Leo Han?” 04 [He’s doing it on purpose, Sweetheart! Can’t you see? Did someone take away her ability to recognize flirting? Why does she think everything he does is a challenge?] [Also, stop yelling at him! It’s not intimidating. You’re just rewarding him.] I frowned. Screaming at him rewards him? Was he a masochist? Leo slowly put the glass down, water still clinging to his lips, making his pale mouth look slightly tempting. “My bad. I didn’t notice. I just grabbed the closest one.” He took my hand and gently placed the glass back in it. “Don’t be mad. Here.” My palm was suddenly burned by the heat—I couldn’t tell if it was the water temperature or Leo’s body heat. It was strange. My heart pounded a little faster. Suddenly, a nervous male voice spoke behind me. “Sue… Susan? Do you have a minute? Can you step outside? I need to talk to you…” 05 [Wow, this guy is bold. Asking Sweetheart out right in front of Leo Han.] [Leo was going to take things slow so he wouldn’t scare her, but this rival just activated his psycho mode.] I shivered. I looked up and met Leo’s noncommittal gaze. “Go ahead,” he said. His tone was normal, but it sent a chill down my spine. I took two tentative steps toward the boy, but Leo’s gaze darkened. I immediately backed up, smiling politely at the guy. “Sorry, I have something I need to handle. I can’t leave right now.” Leo was acting totally weird today, and combined with these warning signs from the comments, I wasn’t taking any risks. What if the comments were right, and he really was a psychopath who would lock me up? I’d read enough books to know how those stories ended. I activated my Level One Security, sent the boy away, and held my glass, keeping a safe distance from Leo. Shelly came back from the restroom, looked at me, and tilted her head. “Huh? Didn’t you just show me that hairpin this morning? You bought it this afternoon? Are they local? The delivery was fast!” “Huh? What hairpin?” Shelly made me look down and took a delicate strawberry clip from my hair. “This one.” My eyes widened. “Where did that come from? I haven’t bought it yet!” Shelly said, “Uh… you don’t know?” She scanned the room, saw Leo, and understood. “Leo probably clipped it on you. He loves giving you those little gifts.”

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The famous movie star posted a tribute to her deceased lover, and my five-year-old son called the police on her. “If you’re building a persona of a heartbroken lover, why are you posting my Daddy’s picture?” Chloe Wood’s eyes were red as she explained, “It’s not marketing. That’s a picture of my deceased fiancé.” The photo showed me at eighteen. She didn’t love me then. She said I was the person she hated most. Now, she used a sentimental soundtrack with my picture, captioning it: [Six years gone since I lost my fiancé. I’ll never see your face again.] Everyone praised her devotion, envying me for being loved by her even in death. My son’s cheeks puffed up, and he yelled fiercely: “That is my Daddy! He is not dead! You can’t see your lover’s face, so you decided to publicly cremate my Daddy online, didn’t you?” 1 “Daddy, Baby needs to ask you something.” My five-year-old son, Ethan, suddenly ran up to me. His plump, red lips were pursed, and he said seriously: “Confess honestly and you’ll be treated leniently. Resist and you’ll be punished severely, got it?” I paused, slightly stunned. I rubbed his cheek, annoyed. “What good baby treats his Daddy like a criminal? You’re being too presumptuous, little man.” He batted my hand away, his small face serious and fierce, like a tiny adult. “Daddy, be serious! Answer the question honestly.” “Are you sick? Really sick, and you’re hiding it from me?” I stiffened. I wondered why the little guy was suddenly asking this. Ethan saw my reaction and assumed he had figured out my secret. He has a beautiful, sculpted face, a natural birthmark on his forehead, making him look like a picture-perfect cherub. He looked at me, pouting, his eyes glistening. “Don’t pretend, Daddy. I know everything.” I was completely dumbfounded. What did this little guy know? Was he just quoting something abstract he saw online? 2 He pulled a few sheets of paper from behind his back and slapped them onto the table. “You brought these papers home from the doctor, didn’t you?” “You thought hiding them in the drawer would work? Daddy, you underestimate me.” I realized they were the test results I got yesterday. He thought I was sick. Before I could speak, Ethan put his hands on his hips, his cheeks puffed up with indignation. “Baby’s little eyes might not read, but you can’t treat me like an idiot.” “These papers are exactly like the ones you got when you took me to the doctor when I was sick.” “So many papers! You must have a serious, serious illness.” As he spoke, his long lashes fluttered, and tears instantly sprang up. He wiped his face with a chubby hand, collapsing. “Daddy, what kind of awful illness do you have?” “Tell Baby! Baby can handle it…” The little guy was sobbing so hard my heart was breaking. I immediately pulled him into my arms, comforting him gently. “My Baby, don’t cry. Listen to Daddy.” “Daddy just went for a check-up. The doctor didn’t say I was sick.” The little guy stopped crying immediately, pearl-like tears clinging to his lashes. “Really? Daddy, we’re father and son. You can’t lie to me.” I nodded, assuring him I wasn’t lying. 3 In truth, I had gone to the hospital because I was in too much pain to work. It was late, and I hadn’t finished all the necessary tests. I needed to go back today. The doctor’s expression had been grim, leaving me deeply unsettled. My babysitter, Alex, arrived then. I hired him because of my work schedule; he’s newly graduated, cheerful, and Ethan loves him. Seeing Ethan’s damp lashes, Alex asked gently: “What happened? Did our Baby cry?” Ethan nodded, explaining vividly: “Yes. I was just playing a game of ‘abstract truth’ and scared myself.” Alex and I both laughed. I told Alex: “Stay with Ethan. I need to go out.” I started packing my things, planning to go to the hospital before returning to work. It was strange; Alex kept staring at me, as if there was something on my face. Suddenly, he asked: “Jay, do you know the movie star, Chloe Wood? Or rather, do you know her dead lover?” I froze, feeling uncomfortable. “Why?” Alex pulled out his phone. “Chloe Wood posted a picture of her deceased lover last night, and he looks exactly like you.” I lowered my gaze and saw the picture of myself. My mind instantly went blank. The caption felt incredibly piercing. After a long silence, I blinked, pulling my gaze away. I gave a faint smile. “No, I don’t know her. It must be a coincidence.” 4 While waiting for my test results, I scrolled through social media. I found a gossip account: [Movie Star Chloe Wood posts a memorial for her fiancé who died six years ago. The emotional music, coupled with her reply to a fan saying she regrets not loving him more, is truly heartbreaking.] [A fan commented that the photo looked familiar. Chloe replied: ‘Impossible. I watched him get cremated.’] [I thought she hadn’t found love yet, but she was already tragically bereaved. I feel so much sympathy for her grief.] I opened the comment section. I was stunned. [After you left, this world is your will, and I am your sole legacy… So touching. The man Chloe loves must have been so happy.] [I’m so jealous of that guy. She still loves him even though he’s dead.] [You can see how much Chloe loves him. I envy them.] [Ugh, I wish I were that man. I’d be happy even if I lived to a hundred, had billions in assets, and was feasting every day.] [That little jerk had good luck. Chloe still loves him six years after he died.] I stopped reading and scrolled down. The next post was Chloe’s. The photo showed me at eighteen. I had been madly in love with Chloe then. I pursued her relentlessly. But she didn’t love me, saying I was the person she hated most. Now, she used a sentimental soundtrack with my picture, captioning it: [Six years gone since I lost my fiancé. I’ll never see your face again.] In the comments, a local user wrote: [The photo looks familiar. I think I saw him a few days ago.] Chloe replied: [Impossible. I watched him get cremated.] Another user: [You must have loved him so much.] Chloe replied: [My greatest regret is not loving him properly back then.] I never imagined the person I had desperately pursued in my youth would say she loved me six years after my “death.” Was I sad? Happy? Or was it… ironic? 5 I stood alone after leaving the doctor’s office. I looked at the bustling crowds of patients, my mind blank. I felt confusion, helplessness, and a profound powerlessness against fate. My head was pounding, and my emotions were at a breaking point. I slowly crouched, leaning against the wall, hugging my knees, and crying softly. I kept asking myself: What do I do? What should I do? And Ethan… he’s only five. He’s still so young. Suddenly, I heard Ethan’s voice. I looked up, following the sound. A young man nearby was watching a video on his phone and had paused on Ethan. “You’re so pure, you’re 1080P. You mourn your dead lover, but you cremated my Daddy online…” Hearing that, I instantly sobered up and grabbed my phone. A pop-up notification appeared: [You follow EthanTheDaddy’sBoy. New update…] My little guy loves watching videos and often films himself doing daily things. Alex helps him share them on his account. The little guy now has 200,000 followers and is starting to get ad deals. He always shows me his videos, demanding I read the comments. When he gets an ad, he puffs up proudly and says: “Daddy, Baby is earning money with his face now. Isn’t that amazing?” 6 I clicked the notification. The video opened. The next second, I saw Ethan’s cheeks puffed up, his small brow furrowed in anger: “Aunties, Baby isn’t playing games today. This is very serious.” “Movie Star Chloe Wood, why did you post my Daddy’s picture to mourn your dead lover?” “I’m asking you. You’re a movie star, you’re so pure, you’re 1080P. You mourn your dead lover, but you cremated my Daddy online. That is so rude.” Ethan’s small, red lips trembled. He pointed at the camera, threatening fiercely: “My Daddy went to work this morning. Why did you watery-eyed people cremate him this afternoon?” “Whether you’re marketing a deep devotion persona or playing abstract, I called the police! You wait for jail!” The video ended there. Posted two hours ago. I was stunned. I immediately called Alex. He answered quickly. “Alex, where are you?” Alex spoke slowly: “Jay, we’re… at the police station.” “Ethan saw the gossip video, insisted Chloe’s photo was you, and called the police… The police officer has summoned Chloe. Jay, maybe you should come down?” My mind went blank. Then I blurted out: “Okay, I’m on my way.” I quickly packed my diagnostic report and left the hospital for the police station.

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