Author: Momo Chan

On the day we were supposed to register for college, my boyfriend—who had just gotten into a top-tier university—suddenly said he picked the wrong major and wanted to take a gap year to reapply. I knew immediately: He was doing it for her. His childhood friend who didn’t get in. His parents begged me to talk sense into him. After struggling with it all night, he stood outside my dorm and told me: “I’ve thought it through. I’m not taking a gap year. Let’s be together properly.” But at the freshman welcome party, when the counselor called his name, his phone lit up. It was a message from her. “My prep classes started today. It feels weird not having you as my desk mate.” He froze. I grabbed his hand, whispering a warning: “If you leave now, we are done forever.” He just muttered “I’m sorry,” grabbed his suitcase, and walked out of my life. 1 “Mr. and Mrs. Miller, you heard him.” “Caleb said it himself. This is his choice. I respect it, and I’d appreciate it if you respected me, too.” “I have to unpack my dorm room. I won’t see you out.” I turned my back to start putting sheets on my bed, ignoring Caleb’s parents completely. Defeated, they finally left. My mom was fuming, her chest heaving as she grabbed my hand, eyes full of pain for me. “Jenna, don’t be sad. A man like that isn’t worth it! Wasting your future on him? Not worth it!” I smiled, comforting her. “Mom, I’m fine. Really.” “I saw this coming a mile away, but I never thought he’d be stupid enough to actually do it. Giving up Stanford to go retake classes with Sarah?” My best friend called, screaming over the phone. “Caleb is such a piece of trash! Retaking a year for that pick-me girl? Jenna, are you okay?” I paused. “I’m okay.” “I knew Sarah was bad news! Always ‘Caleb this, Caleb that,’ it makes me want to barf! And Caleb is blind enough to fall for it!” Listening to my best friend’s righteous anger, I felt surprisingly calm. I used to be confident in my relationship with Caleb. I had sensed something between him and Sarah, but I was too busy studying to pay much attention. Because he once said, “I don’t like people who flaunt their wealth,” I refused the $15,000 monthly allowance my dad offered. I ate in the cafeteria with him every day. When we were rushing, if he ate bread, I ate granola bars. I put my billion-dollar inheritance on hold just to study alongside him like my life depended on it. Getting into Stanford on my own merits was my way of proving to him that I wasn’t just a rich girl. But he never knew how many times I secretly had my family bail out his dad’s failing factory, just so financial stress wouldn’t impact his studies. I thought once we got into Stanford and away from Sarah, Caleb would focus on us. I overestimated him. And I underestimated Sarah’s tears. The news of us getting into Stanford as a “power couple” had already made local headlines. Now, with this drama, a new hashtag was climbing the trending list. #StanfordScholarGivesUpSpotForHighSchoolSweetheart The comments section was exploding. [Is he insane? It’s Stanford! Just throwing it away? For a girl who didn’t even get in?] [Did a donkey kick him in the head? What kind of love is worth more than your future?] [I’m curious who this ‘childhood sweetheart’ is to have that much power.] Soon, netizens dug up Sarah’s photos and info. The public opinion shifted instantly. [That’s it? She’s not even as pretty as the original girlfriend. Is he blind?] [She knew he had a girlfriend and still clung to him? What a pick-me, total homewrecker!] My phone wouldn’t stop vibrating with consolation texts from friends and family. I didn’t reply to a single one. It just felt ironic. The next day, just when I thought things would die down, Caleb called. He sounded furious, like I’d murdered his family. “Jenna, did you orchestrate this trending topic?” 2 I laughed out loud at his audacity. “Caleb, did repeating a year rot your brain? Do you think I have the time to hype up your scandal?” He choked for a second, then demanded righteously, “Then issue a statement now! Clarify things online! Say we broke up peacefully a long time ago.” “My decision to retake the year is mine alone, it has nothing to do with Sarah! She’s getting torn apart online, she’s been crying all day!” Hearing the heartache in his voice for Sarah, my smile turned icy. “Why should I clarify?” “We broke up because you betrayed me for another woman. You’re retaking the year because of her.” “Caleb, I have no obligation to help you or your little sweetheart face the consequences of your own actions.” “As far as I’m concerned, the moment we broke up, we were strangers. I don’t owe you anything.” “You—” I hung up before he could finish. Blocked. A few days later, a post on the Stanford campus forum went viral. [Exposing Freshman Jenna: The So-Called ‘Golden Girl’ is Just a Bully Who Used Money to Force Love!] The post painted a vivid picture of me as a possessive, manipulative rich girl. It claimed I had been obsessed with the brilliant Caleb since childhood and used my family’s power to force him to be with me. It said he and his childhood friend Sarah were the true lovers, torn apart by me, the villainess. The post alleged that after getting into Stanford, Caleb wanted to break up and get back with Sarah. But I supposedly threatened suicide and vowed to use my family’s influence to destroy his family’s business, forcing him to submit. Finally, it concluded: Caleb’s decision to retake the year wasn’t for love, but a brave rebellion to escape my control. It even included several carefully edited photos. Me looking cold next to Sarah (interpreted as jealousy). Caleb frowning while talking to me (interpreted as enduring my abuse). And one of Sarah crying while Caleb comforted her (hailed as true love). Public opinion flipped instantly. The netizens who were sympathizing with me and bashing Caleb yesterday suddenly developed amnesia. They turned their guns on me. [Whoa, what a plot twist! I wondered why a smart guy would be so dumb. He was forced!] [Jenna is disgusting! Think you’re special because you’re rich? You can’t buy love!] [Poor Sarah and Caleb. This is like a modern-day tyrant stealing a bride.] [Jenna, get out of Stanford! We don’t want trash like you here!] The comments were filthy. My personal info—phone number, dorm room—was doxxed. My phone blew up with abusive texts and calls from strangers. Some people even came to my dorm building, shouting at my window. “Jenna! You bitch! Come out!” “Bully! Shameless!” My roommate was furious, rolling up her sleeves to go fight them, but I stopped her. “Don’t. They’re irrational right now. You won’t get through to them.” She was tearing up. “Jenna, what do we do? How can they say these things without knowing the truth?” I looked at the angry faces outside. I felt nothing. I even wanted to laugh. This style was too familiar. It had to be Sarah. Only Caleb would be stupid enough to tell her our history, which she then twisted into a weapon against me. They thought these dirty tricks would drag me into the mud and make them look innocent. Naive. 3 The next day, I took leave from school and showed up at the high school where Caleb and Sarah were retaking classes. News that I arrived in a top-tier luxury car spread fast. Students gathered around. “Omg, that car is expensive. Which rich kid is it?” “I heard it’s the senior who graduated last year, the one who got into Stanford!” “Isn’t that Jenna? She was on the local news.” “Yeah, yeah! Didn’t you know? Caleb, who got into Stanford with her, is back here retaking classes to be with his childhood sweetheart.” “God, is he sick? Skipping Stanford for a girl?” Hearing the commotion, Caleb and Sarah rushed over. “What, here to beg me to go back to Stanford? Annoying. I told you we broke up. I’m here for Sarah now, stop disturbing our studies!” Caleb looked at me with disdain and impatience, as if our past relationship was all an act. I cleared my throat. “I’m not here to persuade you. I’m here for one thing.” “I want an apology!” “Apology?” Caleb paused. I looked at Sarah, standing beside him. “You paid for those forum posts, right? They’ve seriously impacted my life. I demand you delete them and apologize publicly!” Honestly, I could have just asked my dad. One call, and every negative post about me would vanish in minutes. Maybe I still held a shred of hope for Caleb. If they apologized, I’d let it go. But Caleb looked at me like I was the biggest joke in the world. His contempt deepened. “Did Sarah say anything wrong in those posts?” “You bullied her first. If the online comments hadn’t hurt her, she wouldn’t have fought back.” “Sarah is kind. Unlike someone who only knows how to bully people with money!” He pulled Sarah close, creating an intimate scene. Sarah leaned into him weakly, a flash of triumph in her eyes. I realized I had oversimplified things. Or rather, I finally saw that Caleb was just rotten to the core. “High schoolers aren’t supposed to date. Don’t you know that?” I stopped saving face for them. Caleb scoffed. “The principal didn’t say anything. Why do you care?” “Besides, this year, Sarah and I will get into Stanford together as a power couple. Just you wait.” I laughed internally. Her? Getting into Stanford? Keep dreaming. Sarah wasn’t happy. She started whining to Caleb. “Caleb, she’s too much. Is having ambition wrong?” “Jenna just looks down on me because she has money and power.” “Sarah’s right.” Caleb tapped her nose affectionately, then looked at me with pure disgust. “Jenna, you’ve gone too far. I want you to apologize to Sarah. Otherwise, we won’t delete those posts.” I was furious. This was completely backwards! “Me? Apologize? Is she worthy?” “I think you’ve lost your mind. You are a piece of trash. Completely rotten.” “You…” I stopped engaging with them and waved at the car. A man in a suit and glasses stepped out and walked over… 4 “Mr. Yang, no need to deliberate. File the lawsuit against Sarah immediately.” I said each word clearly in front of everyone. Caleb reacted instantly. “What do you mean? You’re suing Sarah?” “Jenna, is this necessary? Do you have to blow this up?” Sarah’s eyes reddened on cue, tears ready to fall. “Caleb, what do I do? Is Jenna blaming me? I didn’t do anything wrong.” “Of course you didn’t. You’re too kind, that’s why people bully you. Don’t be scared, Sarah. I’ve got you.” Heh. How touching. Caleb let go of Sarah and marched up to me, face full of anger. “Jenna! What do you want? Why sue Sarah? She’s just an innocent girl who doesn’t know anything!” He grabbed my wrist hard. I frowned and shook him off. “Doesn’t know anything? Caleb, are you insulting my intelligence or the law?” “She didn’t mean it! She just loves me too much!” “Enough.” I cut off his excuses coldly. “Save the sob story. If you’re begging, act like it.” My imposing manner seemed to stun him. He froze. “Drop the lawsuit. It’s better for everyone. Otherwise, with your ability, you’ll lose. I will protect Sarah to the end! I’ll get her the best lawyer in the world.” I laughed. I didn’t realize his confidence had swelled this much. Just because I ate humble pie with him for a few years, he thought I was weak. I didn’t want to waste another word. I took out my phone and called my dad on speaker. “Dad, it’s me.” “Hmm? Is it resolved?” “No.” I looked at Caleb and spoke clearly. “I want to sue Sarah. And I want the Jiang Group to pull all sponsorship and contracts with the Miller family. I want the Millers out of the city!” 5 My father didn’t hesitate. “Done.” Caleb looked like he’d been struck by lightning. He stood rigid. He stared at me in disbelief, lips trembling. “What did you say? Contracts? What contracts?” “Why do you think your father’s company has had such smooth sailing and big projects these past few years?” I smirked, eyes full of mockery. “Caleb, you enjoyed the benefits my family provided, then turned around and bit me. Now, I’m just taking back what’s mine.” He panicked completely, lunging to grab my phone. I dodged. “Jenna! Is this necessary?! Over something so small! Do you have to destroy us?!” “Yes.” I looked straight into his terrified eyes. “I am that petty.” “I won’t let you or Sarah off the hook!” Not long after the call, Caleb’s parents—who had just received news that funding stopped and bankruptcy was imminent—rushed over. Mr. Miller slapped Caleb across the face. Smack! “You ungrateful son! I’ll kill you!” He was shaking with rage, pointing at Caleb’s nose. “I told you to treat Jenna well! What have you done?” “For a woman like that, you threw away your Stanford acceptance like trash! And now the Jiangs pulled everything! The company is finished! Are you happy?!” Mrs. Miller was wailing. “Why did I give birth to such a useless thing! Don’t you know our family relies on the Jiangs? You’ve ruined us all!” Caleb clutched his swelling face, neck stiff with defiance. “You only care about money! About contracts! Do you care about how I feel?” “I love Sarah! I don’t want to sacrifice my feelings for family interests! I don’t want a life arranged for me!” “Your life?” Mr. Miller laughed angrily. “Without the Jiangs, you couldn’t afford the house you live in! What life are you talking about?” “You’re forcing me!” “Are we forcing you, or are you just stupid?!” I watched coldly from the side. When the school administration came out to mediate, I left. Later, I heard from my dad that the Millers tried everything to fill the financial hole, begging and selling assets, but it was useless. The once-proud Miller family was on the brink of bankruptcy within two weeks. And Caleb, the golden boy, fell from the clouds into the mud. He never came to find me again. As for Sarah, my lawsuit was a slam dunk. She was sentenced to two years for defamation and libel. Caleb tried to make a scene at my house when he found out, but my parents kicked him out. Time flew. It was the first winter break of college. Our high school class organized a reunion. I didn’t want to go, but my best friend dragged me along. The private room was lively. As soon as I walked in, I saw Caleb sitting in the corner. In just a few months, he looked drained. He wore a faded T-shirt, eyes dull. The spirited boy who walked into Stanford with me was gone. I glanced at him once, then looked away and sat with my friend. Everyone chatted about college life. The atmosphere was fine. Until a drunk guy pointed at Caleb. “Caleb, you’re a legend! Giving up Stanford to retake high school… for, hehe, love?” His laugh was mocking. “Guys, what do we call this? A hero sacrificing everything for a beauty!” The room went quiet. Everyone looked at Caleb. Caleb clenched his fists, face red. He didn’t retort to the guy. Instead, he looked up and glared at me. That accusing look, as if I was the one mocking him. I frowned. Baffling.

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During an argument on the bus, my “school bully” boyfriend broke up with me. I sneered, “Out of the two of you, you’re the only one with problems.” He instantly lost it, demanding to know who the “other one” was. I made up some nonsense: “Student Council President, 6’1″, handsome, long legs, better than you in every way. Hehe.” The next moment. The guy sitting next to us, wearing a grey hoodie, took off his headphones and pulled down his mask. He coughed lightly: “Correction: I’m 6’1.28″.” Help. I was caught lying by the person I was lying about. 1 It was Friday after school. Brad and I were arguing on the bus. Half the bus full of grandmas and grandpas perked up their ears, listening with relish. “Joy, can you stop overthinking? Sarah is just a really good friend,” Brad said, one hand in his pocket, face full of annoyance. There were no seats left, so we were standing in the aisle. Outside the window, green shadows flashed by rapidly. The wind blew the hair on Brad’s forehead, revealing his cold, impatient eyes. “Friend? What kind of platonic friend uses matching couple avatars in a game?” I scoffed, exposing him mercilessly. If I hadn’t just seen Sarah posting game screenshots and match records, I wouldn’t have known Brad’s cat avatar had a matching half. Good job. Texting me “goodnight” one minute. Gaming with his “female bro” until midnight the next. “You don’t play, what’s wrong with me matching with her?” “I treat Sarah like a bro.” “Why do I need to explain? What does a couple avatar prove?” “Are you delusional? Or just paranoid?” “Stop being unreasonable.” Brad frowned, looking exhausted, like I was the problem. I was stunned. How could he be so shameless? Gaslighting me? Really? 2 I was so angry I wanted to slap him. Just as I raised my hand, the bus hit a red light. The bus driver was wild. No slowing down, just a hard brake right at the line. Before my slap could land on Brad’s face, I spun 180 degrees uncontrollably, nearly flying into the lap of the guy sitting next to us. The guy had headphones on and his eyes closed, seemingly asleep. Most of his face was covered by a mask; his eyelashes were long and thick, resting quietly. Thankfully, I gripped the handrail tight, avoiding intimate contact. Just as I steadied myself, Brad spoke again. “If that’s what you think, I can’t help it.” “We should take a break and cool off.” “You choose.” At peak anger, I suddenly calmed down. Heh. Trying to use a breakup to make me compromise? Fine, let’s break up. There are plenty of fish in the sea. But I couldn’t lose face and just let him win. I laughed in anger. Curling my lip, I tsked and shook my head helplessly: “Let’s break up then. Out of the two of you, you’re the only one with problems.” “What?” Brad froze for a second. Realizing what I said, his face turned ugly. “Joy, am I not enough? You have another man on the side?!” 3 “You’ve got it wrong. He’s the main boyfriend. I just never went public with him.” “You’re the third wheel who chased me relentlessly and intruded on our relationship.” I sighed, condemning him with a heartbroken expression. The audience on the bus couldn’t sit still anymore. Pointing and whispering, lamenting how wild young people are these days. “I… I’m the side piece?” Brad looked like he’d been struck by lightning. Stunned. Then his face flushed red from his neck up. He grabbed my arm and roared furiously. “Joy, you cheater! You played me!” “Tell me who he is! Who is he? How am I worse than him? Speak! Tell me now!!!” Seeing him lose it, I felt amazing. I slapped his hand away and started spewing nonsense. “Liam from the Law School.” “Student Council President, 6’1″, handsome, long legs, better than you in every way. Hehe.” A peak existence everyone looked up to. Let’s see how you compare to him. Before the words even settled, and before Brad could react… The guy next to us who was “sleeping” suddenly took off his headphones. Slender fingers pulled down his mask, revealing superior features. He coughed lightly, his voice clear and melodious. “Um, correction: I’m 6’1.28″.” 4 Everyone at River University knew Liam. Handsome, top student, campus heartthrob, and academic god. Cold and clean temperament, basically a deity. Completely different from the wild, arrogant “school bully” type like Brad. I didn’t know him personally, but I knew his face. Help. I got caught lying by the person I was lying about. “I, uh…” My brain was a mess. I was so guilty and embarrassed I didn’t know what to say. Brad scowled and sneered: “Liam, is she really your girlfriend?” “She and I—” Liam lifted his eyelids and looked at me calmly. It’s over. I’m about to be exposed and slapped in the face by the main character. If Sarah, that little Green Tea, found out, she would spread it everywhere and laugh at me. In a critical moment, I steadied myself, brain spinning fast. “Hi, babe. What a coincidence, you’re here too.” I showed a standard eight-tooth smile, sweet as candy. I intimately grabbed Liam’s jacket, turning sideways to block Brad’s view, staring intently at Liam, begging silently. Don’t expose me. Please, God Liam. I finally stood up to Brad. Please play along. Boohoo. I will repay your great kindness. Meeting my teary-eyed, pitiful gaze, Liam’s nice eyebrows furrowed slightly. Silence for a few seconds. He paused, then said lightly. “She and I are exactly what you think.” 5 We got off at the stop. On the sidewalk, Brad stood in front of me and Liam with his hands in his pockets, gritting his teeth: “Great. I wish you the best.” I rolled my eyes at him, looking up at Liam with a smile and acting spoiled. “Babe, are you happy? Finally gave you a title.” “Everyone else is just trash.” “No one compares to you. I like you the best.” Brad’s face got even worse. “I hope you break up tonight!” He sneered, his aura dropping even lower. Unable to bear it, he dropped that line and turned to leave. “Wait, don’t go!” I called out. “Oh? Can’t bear to let me go?” Brad stopped, raising an eyebrow triumphantly at Liam. “You wish. I mean don’t walk, you’re too slow.” “Run! Get out of my sight immediately.” … After Brad stormed off with a black face, my smile vanished. I put my hands together in prayer, quickly apologizing to Liam who had been silent beside me. “Liam, I’m so sorry. I got carried away and spouted nonsense.” “Brad cares about face the most. Don’t worry, he definitely won’t tell anyone about my lies.” “I promise, it absolutely won’t affect you. And thank you for playing along. Thank you so much.” 6 “It’s okay.” Liam nodded politely. The midsummer evening breeze was gentle. Carrying the cool scent of lime and sea salt soda, blowing away the day’s humidity. He wore simple black pants and sneakers. On top was a loose grey hoodie, zipped halfway down. Revealing a bit of a white T-shirt collar and beautiful, sharp collarbones. Slender figure. Quiet yet eye-catching. I really wanted to bow down to him. Beautiful person, beautiful heart. He’s so good. Boohoo. “Liam, let me treat you to dinner.” Liam refused. I insisted. Finally, he pointed to a nearby convenience store, helpless: “Dinner isn’t necessary. Just buy me an ice cream.” … After buying ice cream, I added Liam on WeChat. One ice cream wasn’t enough. I definitely had to treat him to a meal if I got the chance. After saying goodbye, I took a taxi back to school. Originally, I planned to go see fireflies at the Forest Park with Brad tonight. He didn’t ride his flashy motorcycle, saying squeezing on the bus together was sweeter. Didn’t expect us to argue the whole way and end up breaking up. I opened WeChat, scrolling through my feed out of boredom. Sarah posted another update— “Don’t be sad~ Breaking up is no big deal, I’ll always be with you~ (Hug) (Hug)” I was disgusted. The little Green Tea finally got what she wanted. Her secret delight was leaking through the words. I couldn’t swallow this anger. My eyes turned red. I furiously typed a comment— “I’ll play the trumpet at your mom’s funeral~” 7 After being emo for two days, I was visibly withered. Monday morning classes were killing me. After class in the afternoon, I went to the playground for a walk, and coincidentally ran into Brad again. He was playing basketball with a tense face, as if venting. His jersey was soaked. He looked to be in a bad mood. Sarah sat on the bench, holding a water bottle, smiling at Brad. I kept my head down and walked. Brad had sharp eyes. He saw me, did a fadeaway jump shot, swish. He strode over to block me. “Joy, why are you alone?” “Where’s your boyfriend? Why isn’t he with you?” Me: “He’s not as idle as you.” Sarah, afraid we’d get back together, quickly trotted over. “Joy, you have a new boyfriend? That was fast.” “Then why do you look so bad? Did you break up again?” She looked me up and down, gasping softly. “Shut up! Can you have as little drama as you have hair?” Fire rose in my chest. I stared at her large forehead and sneered. Sarah was pricked, almost losing her composure. She barely maintained her expression, saying fake-ly: “Joy, no matter what you think, Brad and I are innocent. You misunderstood.” “You act more than a trash bag holds trash.” “You really misunderstood us!” “Shake your brain before speaking.” After my barrage, Sarah couldn’t speak. She turned to Brad, voice trembling: “Your ex-girlfriend is so mean.”

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I accidentally crushed my sister’s baby. Flattened it right into the floor. They say a child is a piece of a mother’s own flesh. To make it up to her, I carved a chunk of meat from my own stomach and gave it to my sister. Less than a week later, the meat suddenly came alive. It grew eyes, a nose, and opened its mouth to call me “Mama.” 1 It all started a month ago. My sister, Lisa, had been married for years. She tried everything to get pregnant, but nothing worked. With her thirtieth birthday approaching, Mom suggested she try IVF. But on her birthday, Lisa suddenly announced she had a child. The whole family was stunned. Not only because it was out of the blue, but don’t you need to be pregnant to have a kid? Her stomach had been flat all year. Where did this child come from? Lisa shook her head mysteriously and brought out a thermal container from her room. It was about the size of a hamster cage, lined with gauze and cotton. In the center lay a piece of meat, the size of a palm. Lisa tapped gently on the box, her voice soft: “Dolly, Grandma and Auntie are here to see you!” Mom and I exchanged looks. We both thought she’d lost her mind. But then, the meat moved. It wiggled toward the glass lid. Looking closer, I saw two slits on the surface. They opened slightly, revealing what looked exactly like eyes, staring straight at us. I screamed, nearly falling off my chair. Lisa smiled. She scooped the meat up in her hands and held it out to us like a treasure. “Mom, Sis, look! Isn’t Dolly cute?” Mom was terrified, covering her mouth with trembling hands. “Lisa… don’t scare me like this…” 2 Lisa’s face darkened instantly. “Mom, what do you mean? Do you think I’m crazy?” Mom didn’t answer, just silently wiped her tears. Lisa turned to me. “Sis, do you think so too?” Before I could speak, she put the meat back in the box and sat down coldly. “I know you don’t believe me, but I paid a lot of money for this method!” Lisa told us it was a secret folk ritual. You cut a piece of flesh from your stomach and feed it with fresh blood. The meat will gradually grow into the shape of a child, looking exactly like you. “You know how much I’ve suffered trying to get pregnant all these years. Now I finally have a child. Even if she’s a monster, I accept it!” Tears streamed down Lisa’s face as she spoke. Seeing this, the meat actually pushed open the lid and jumped out, excitedly trying to wipe Lisa’s tears while constantly crying, “Mama.” Mom and I were dumbfounded. Mom swallowed her words, sighed, and decided not to stop her. As her sister, I couldn’t really interfere either, so we let it be. But after dinner, Lisa pulled me aside. “Sis, my husband Mark is coming back tonight. I’m afraid he won’t accept the child right away. Can you take care of her for a while?” Mark was a traditional guy. Years of infertility had cooled their marriage. Since Lisa didn’t work and didn’t control the finances, she was always careful around him. Seeing my hesitation, she held up a finger. “I calculated it. In just one week, she’ll grow into a normal-looking baby. I’ll take her back then!” “Sis, please, for the sake of my marriage, help me!” 3 I was soft-hearted, so I agreed. I took the ball of meat home. Following instructions, I had to feed it every night before bed. I filled a baby bottle with the fresh blood Lisa had prepared, fought back my nausea, and took out the meat. It sat there obediently. Smooth surface. Feeling it in my hand, it reminded me of a raw meatball from the supermarket. But just as I was about to offer the bottle, the meat opened its eyes! The eyes took up almost its entire body. The pupils were slit and long, like a painted pattern. Disgusting and terrifying. I shuddered and instinctively let go. The meat seemed to hit the floor, and just as I apologized and bent to pick it up, the power went out! I fumbled in the dark to flip the breaker, but when the lights came back on, the meat was gone. “Dolly! Dolly, where are you? Auntie didn’t mean to drop you!” I called out several times with no response. When I bent down, I saw what looked like a smear of blood on the sole of my shoe. A bad feeling spread in my chest. No way. No way. I chanted internally as I slowly lifted my foot. In that moment, my blood ran cold. “Dolly” was stuck to the sole of my shoe. The shape was gone, mashed into a paste of blood and raw meat. It was completely crushed. And those slit eyes were flattened, printed onto the smooth floor, still staring straight at me. I had trampled Dolly to death. My mind went blank. My legs gave out, and I collapsed on the floor. 4 The summer night was stifling. Soon, the smell of blood filled the air. Like a zombie, I carried my slipper to the bathroom, scrubbed Dolly into the toilet, and mopped up the eye on the floor. Just as I finished, Lisa called. The ringtone sounded like a death knell, sharp and piercing. I picked up the phone nervously, hesitated for a long time, and finally pressed answer. Lisa’s cheerful voice came through: “Sis, is Dolly settling in okay? Can we video chat so I can see her?” Staring at the pile of meat in the toilet, I lied instinctively. “She… she’s asleep.” “Oh, okay. We’ll talk tomorrow then. You get some sleep too.” Lisa didn’t press further. Just as she was about to hang up, I stopped her, my heart pounding. “Wait! Can you… tell me the secret method? I have a friend who’s been trying to conceive for years. She wants to try it too!” My back was drenched in cold sweat. I knew I should tell the truth. But I also knew how important this child was to Lisa. If she knew I flattened her baby, she might actually kill me. The only way out was to use the next week to make another Dolly! Silence on the other end. My heart was in my throat, terrified she’d notice something wrong. Luckily, Lisa didn’t think much of it and agreed quickly. “Sure. I’ll send you the Master’s number. Just contact him.” The signal was bad; she had to repeat herself twice. I couldn’t help asking, “Where are you? Why is the signal so bad?” She sighed. “Mark called an hour ago saying he was in the basement parking garage, but he hasn’t come up yet. I came down to look for him.” As soon as she finished speaking, I heard a sharp intake of breath, followed by Lisa’s terrified scream. 5 My heart tightened. “What happened?!” The call cut off. I tried calling back, but it wouldn’t connect. I had a bad feeling, but I didn’t have time to guess. They were coming to pick up Dolly in a week. I was running out of time. Early the next morning, I contacted the so-called “Master.” He seemed to expect me and just gave me an address before hanging up. It was a remote mountain village. I drove all day. By evening, I finally saw the old red brick house from the address. I gathered my courage and knocked. After a few knocks, a wrinkled face appeared in the crack of the door. “Who are you looking for?” His voice sounded like broken bellows. His cloudy, gray eyes looked me up and down. “A friend sent me. I want the potion that makes meat babies.” I answered honestly. He paused for a moment, then said abruptly, “Didn’t you come last week?” I froze. He must have mistaken me for Lisa. We were sisters, and people always said we looked alike. That was why I dared to try this deception. A child made from my flesh should look similar enough to one made from hers. I didn’t explain. “There was an accident. I want to buy another bottle.” The old man looked at me for a moment, went inside, and came back with a bottle of pitch-black liquid. “$5,000 a bottle. Same instructions as before.” I quickly handed over the cash envelope but stopped him before he closed the door. “Um… what were the instructions again? I forgot. Can you tell me one more time?” 6 The old man sighed and came back, lowering his raspy voice: “When you get home, soak a towel in the potion and apply it to your stomach for five hours. When the area feels numb, you can cut the meat.” “After cutting, feed it blood for the first week. Once the mouth and teeth grow, you can feed it normal food.” “The smaller the child, the deeper the connection to the mother. Watch it constantly to prevent accidents that could harm the mother.” “Finally, if you notice the child growing faster than you, destroy it immediately. Or something terrible will happen!” I was confused. “What terrible thing?” The old man gave me a complicated look but didn’t answer directly. He just left me with one sentence. “You’ll know when the time comes.” Back in the car, staring at the black potion, that last sentence kept replaying in my head. Does that mean a child made this way might not stay with you forever? What’s the point of such a short companionship? But since Lisa had been here, she must have known the rules and accepted them. I pushed the thought aside and drove home. That night, I followed the instructions and cut a piece of flesh, nurturing it in a glass box. The next few days went smoothly. The meat ball grew day by day. Maybe because I fed it so often, it grew faster than I expected. But strangely, Lisa hadn’t called since that night. It was good for avoiding exposure, at least. A week passed. The meat ball had developed all facial features and even limbs. Looking closely, it had the shape of a human. And it looked just like Dolly.

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When I was a kid, playing deep in the old woods behind our house, I heard a scream. It didn’t sound like an animal. It sounded like a soul being torn apart. My dad grabbed me, dragging me toward the tree line. “Don’t look back! Just run!” “It’s coming out!” I asked him what was coming out. He shook his head, his face pale. “No one knows its name. Everyone who sees it dies.” Suddenly, he stopped dead in his tracks. I looked up and saw a pair of massive, pale hands covered in white fur resting on my dad’s shoulders. My dad screamed one last thing: “Run!” Then those hands dragged him backward into the darkness of the treeline. Twenty years later, I built a hunting team to go back into those woods. 1 “Everyone who sees it dies.” That voice, intimate yet terrifying, echoed in my ears. I spun around in the pitch-black space, trying to find the source. But there was nothing but a vortex of darkness, wrapping around my fear and grief, suffocating me. A familiar sensation crept up behind me. I turned and saw a massive hand dragging a silhouette into the abyss. I couldn’t see the face, but I saw the shoes. Blue and white Nikes. They stabbed into my heart like a knife. I ran forward, desperate. But the figure was dragged further away, disappearing into the void. I screamed for him not to leave me. The only answer was silence. I tried to chase him, but a piercing shriek froze me in place. “Run!” I stood paralyzed. In the endless dark ahead, two blood-red eyes snapped open. My heart spasmed violently. I felt like I was dying. Those red eyes got closer. A pale hand, covered in white fur, reached out from the shadows. I screamed, “No!” The next second, I jolted awake in my bed, my back drenched in cold sweat. It took minutes for the trembling to stop. That scene from when I was eight years old had haunted me for two-thirds of my life. Every few days, I dreamed of it. My dad’s last cry for help. For twenty years, I didn’t have the courage to face those woods. Even passing by a cluster of trees made me feel like those red eyes were watching, waiting for me to step in. It shouldn’t have been him. It should have been me. I spent twenty years researching what It was. Folklore varied. Some called it a Devil Monkey, others a Wendigo, or a Skinwalker. But like my dad said: “No one knows its name. Everyone who sees it dies.” No. That wasn’t entirely accurate. My dad traded his life for mine. I became the first person to see it and live. Records of the creature went back over a hundred years. A group of trappers went into the deep woods. Only the guy left at the base camp survived. He heard a scream, and then his friends’ heads were tossed out of the tree line. It became a local legend. Hunting parties were formed, but for decades, nothing was found. It vanished as if it never existed. Then, in the late 90s, it reappeared. A group of hikers. The guide went to take a leak, heard a scream, and came back to five bloody corpses. The forest rangers searched for two weeks and found nothing. The third time it appeared, it took my dad. I told the police, but they found no trace. But a plan had been brewing in my mind for twenty years. I got out of bed, stood by the window, and made a call. “Is the team ready?” “This time, it’s not getting away.” 2 “This is Sarge. That’s Dutch.” My best friend, Mike, introduced me to the two men. They were veteran hunters, ex-military. I paid a fortune to get them. They had survival skills that could keep them alive in hell. They only agreed when I put fifty grand on the table. The woods were a remote branch of the Appalachian Mountains. Rarely visited, except by a few locals living off the grid. My dad had taken me there for a distant relative’s funeral all those years ago. It took us a full day of travel to reach the village on the edge of the forest. The old village head welcomed us, but when he heard what we were after, he turned pale. “Son, listen to me. Don’t go in there.” “That thing takes lives. Everyone who sees it dies.” My voice was low. “I know you mean well, Uncle. But I have to go. I saw it when I was a kid. It took my father.” The old man paused, frowning deeply. “Son, leave now. That thing… it can smell you. It might come down the mountain tonight just to finish the job.” That was a new detail. Inside his cabin, the village head told us what he knew. No one knew exactly what it was. It looked like an ape, but its scream was unearthly. Its bite force was stronger than a bear or a tiger. People found in the past had their skulls crushed. It usually stayed dormant unless something woke it up. But again, no survivors meant no details. As for the smell? A few years ago, a group of poachers went up in winter, looking for easy fur. They heard the scream. They tried to retreat, but one by one, they were picked off. Only one old poacher made it down. He claimed he saw it—huge, pale hands. Hands strong enough to snap a neck like a twig. He thought he was safe. The next morning, the villagers found a hole in his roof. The poacher was gone. They found him that afternoon by a creek. His head was crushed. Giant prints surrounded the body. Rumor had it the creature fled because the police brought heavy firepower. Sarge and Dutch exchanged a look. “This thing sounds supernatural.” I looked at them. “You can back out now. I won’t force you.” Sarge shook his head. “I’m in. My mom needs surgery, and this money saves her.” Dutch shrugged. “I need the cash for my wedding. I’m in.” Seeing he couldn’t stop us, the village head went to his shed and came back with two sticks of old mining explosives. “Leftover from when they blasted the road years ago. Don’t know if they still work, but take ’em. If you can kill that thing, we can all sleep easier.” I thanked him. That night, the creature didn’t come for me. But none of us slept well. The next morning, under a heavy fog, we stepped into the woods. 3 “Fog’s thick. Stay close,” Sarge ordered, taking point. “Don’t get more than ten feet apart.” Dutch took the rear, armed with a compound crossbow and two combat knives. If something jumped us, the crossbow was silent and deadly. Mike and I were in the middle, carrying jagged triangular bayonets—military surplus. Nasty things. One stab leaves a wound that doesn’t close. We walked for ten minutes. The fog got thicker. The forest was dead silent. It felt like walking into the mouth of a sleeping beast. Sarge slowed down, tightening the formation. Nothing happened for the first half-hour. We found a clearing to rest. Sarge looked around, frowning. “Something’s wrong. This place… it ain’t right.” Dutch nodded. Mike and I were confused. We were street fighters, not woodsmen. Sarge explained. “A forest this deep shouldn’t be this quiet. Birds, bugs, small game… there should be noise. Deer, boars, badgers—they aren’t usually this scared of humans because nobody comes out here.” “But it’s dead silent. That usually means one of two things.” “One: A natural disaster is coming. Fire, flood, quake. Animals sense it and bolt.” “Two: This is the territory of an apex predator. Something so terrifying that everything else cleared out.” We all leaned toward option two. It meant It was nearby. We sat back-to-back, weapons drawn, listening. Usually, a predator would have attacked by now. A tiger or bear would smell us entering their turf immediately. The fact that we hadn’t been attacked yet was unnerving. It meant the thing was smart. Cunning. After a while, we moved on. As we approached a creek, Sarge stopped again. Still silent. No animals drinking. That was terrifying. It meant this thing was the absolute ruler here. Nothing dared to even take a sip of water. Sarge bent down, examining something on the ground. It was a shard of bone. But it looked carved. Like a knife. Why would a bone knife be this deep in the woods? 4 “What the hell?!” Mike screamed. We spun around to see him hanging upside down in the air. A snare trap. Hidden perfectly in the leaves. I rushed forward with my knife to cut him down. “Wait!” Dutch hissed. “We’ve got company.” I looked around. Figures emerged from the mist. Men painted in camouflage made of mud and crushed plants. They stared at us with hostile eyes. Their voices were guttural, their English broken and archaic. “Leave. You. Go.” “Not welcome.” I froze. What year was this? Sarge stepped forward, speaking a few words in a dialect I didn’t recognize. Their expressions softened slightly. “Mountain folk,” Sarge whispered to us. “They live off the grid. Old ways.” They weren’t cavemen, just isolated. They traded furs occasionally but kept to themselves. Their camouflage was so good we hadn’t seen them until they moved. There were only about five of them. Probably all the men of their small clan. Sarge spoke to them for a moment, then turned back to us, looking grim. “We have to go. They’re kicking us out. They say the ‘Old One’ told them to catch us.” My head spun. The thing gives orders to humans? It made sense in a twisted way. If they lived here, they had to coexist with it. We cut Mike down and retreated to the edge of their territory, herded by their spears and bone knives. Once we were clear, they vanished back into the foliage. Sarge looked at me. “Boss… they don’t call it a beast. They call it ‘Abaha’.” “Like a god?” I asked. “Yeah. The Mountain God. The Supreme Spirit.” Sarge explained. In these mountains, the old folklore runs deep. Abaha isn’t just a monster; it’s a totem. A deity. To them, its orders are divine law. But Sarge added, “Tribes often call powerful creatures manifestations of gods. A massive tiger might be called the Mountain Lord. Doesn’t mean it’s magic. Just means it’s top of the food chain.” I frowned. “So we can’t hunt it?” Sarge pointed to a ridge in the distance. “We circle around their territory. Over there. We lure the Abaha out. Then we kill it.”

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I accidentally stepped on my sister’s baby and crushed it. They say a child is a piece of a mother’s own flesh. To make it up to her, I cut a piece of flesh from my own stomach and gave it to my sister. Less than a week later, the lump of meat suddenly came alive. It grew eyes and a nose, and even opened its mouth to call me “Mom.” 1 It all started a month ago. My sister, Lisa, had been married for years and tried every method under the sun to get pregnant, but nothing worked. With her thirtieth birthday approaching, our mom suggested she try IVF. But on her birthday, Lisa suddenly announced she had a child. The whole family was stunned. Leaving aside that no one knew about such a huge event, don’t you need to be pregnant to have a child? Her stomach had been flat all year. How did she suddenly have a child? Lisa shook her head mysteriously and brought out a thermal box from her room. The box was about the size of a hamster cage, lined with gauze and cotton. In the middle lay a fleshy ball about the size of a palm. Lisa gently tapped the box, her voice tender: “Dolly, Grandma and Auntie are here to see you!” Mom and I exchanged glances; we both clearly thought she was talking nonsense. But the next second, the meatball suddenly moved, inching toward the glass lid. Looking closely, I realized there were two slits on the meatball that opened slightly. They looked exactly like eyes, staring straight at us. I screamed, nearly falling off my chair. Lisa laughed, quickly took the meatball out, held it in her hands, and presented it to us like a treasure. “Mom, Sis, look! Isn’t Dolly cute?” Mom was terrified, covering her mouth with trembling hands: “Lisa… don’t scare Mom like this…” 2 Lisa’s face darkened instantly, and she got angry. “Mom, what do you mean? Do you think I’m crazy?” Mom didn’t answer, just silently wiped away tears. Lisa turned to me. “Sis, do you think so too?” Before I could speak, she put the meatball back in the box and sat back down with a cold face. “I know you don’t believe me, but I paid a lot of money for this method!” Lisa told us this was a secret folk ritual. You just need to cut a piece of flesh from your stomach and feed it with fresh blood. The meatball will gradually grow into the shape of a child, looking exactly like you. “You know how much I’ve suffered trying to get pregnant all these years. Now that I finally have a child, I’ll accept her even if she’s a monster!” As Lisa spoke, she couldn’t help but shed tears. Seeing this, the meatball actually pushed open the lid and jumped out, excitedly trying to wipe Lisa’s tears while constantly calling out “Mom.” Mom and I watched this scene, completely dumbfounded. We swallowed our words. Mom sighed, pulled me aside, and ultimately didn’t stop her. As her sister, I couldn’t intervene either, so I let her be. But after dinner, Lisa stopped me alone. “Sis, my husband Mark is coming back tonight. I’m afraid he won’t accept this child right away. Can you help me take care of her for a while?” Mark was a traditional man. Years of infertility had cooled their relationship. Since Lisa didn’t work and had no financial control, she was always cautious around Mark. Seeing my hesitation, she quickly held up a finger. “I calculated it. In just one more week, this child will grow into a normal baby. I’ll take her back then!” “Sis, for the sake of my family, please help me!” 3 I eventually softened and agreed to Lisa’s request. I took the meatball home. According to the instructions, I had to feed her every night before bed. I put the fresh blood Lisa had prepared into a baby bottle, fought back my nausea, and took out the meatball. It stayed still obediently. Its surface was smooth. Holding it felt a bit like holding a raw beef meatball from the supermarket. But just as I was about to offer the bottle, the meatball suddenly opened its eyes! Its eyes took up almost its entire body. The pupils were long and slit-like, resembling a painted pattern. It was disgusting and terrifying. I shuddered in fear and instinctively let go. The meatball seemed to fall to the ground. I hurriedly apologized and prepared to pick it up, but suddenly the power went out! I fumbled to flip the circuit breaker back on, but when the lights came on, the meatball was gone. “Dolly! Dolly, where did you go? Auntie didn’t mean to let go!” I called out several times with no response. When I bent down, I saw what looked like a smear of blood on the sole of my shoe. A bad premonition spread from my heart. No way. No way. I chanted silently, slowly lifting my foot. In that moment, I felt my blood freeze. “Dolly” was stuck to the sole of my shoe. The shape of the meatball was gone. Blood and mashed flesh had exploded, completely crushed into bits. And those long, slit eyes were flattened and printed onto the smooth floor, still staring straight at me. I had trampled Dolly to death. My mind went blank. My body went limp, and I collapsed onto the floor. 4 The summer night was stifling. Before long, the smell of blood wafted out. Like a walking corpse, I took my slipper to the bathroom, scrubbed Dolly into the toilet with a brush, and then mopped up the eye on the floor. Just as I finished, Lisa called. The ringtone sounded like a death knell, sharp and piercing. I picked up the phone nervously, hesitated for a long time, and finally pressed answer. Lisa’s cheerful voice came from the other end: “Sis, is Dolly settling in okay? Can we video chat so I can see her?” Staring at the pile of rotten meat in the toilet, I lied instinctively. “She… she’s asleep.” “Oh, okay. We’ll talk tomorrow then. You get some sleep too.” Lisa didn’t ask more. Just as she was about to hang up, I steeled myself and stopped her. “Wait… can you tell me that secret method? I have a friend who hasn’t been able to conceive for years. She wants to try it too!” After saying this, my back was drenched in cold sweat. I knew I should tell the truth. But I also knew how important this child was to Lisa. If she knew I flattened her child, she might really kill me. The only way now was to use this week to make another Dolly using the same method! Silence on the other end. My heart was in my throat, terrified she’d notice something. Luckily, Lisa didn’t think much of it and agreed quickly. “Sure. I’ll give you the Master’s number. Just contact him.” The voice on the other end was intermittent. I had to ask twice to hear clearly. I couldn’t help asking: “Where are you? Why is the signal so bad?” She sighed: “It’s Mark. He called an hour ago saying he was in the basement, but he still hasn’t come up. I came down to find him.” As soon as she finished speaking, I heard a sharp intake of breath, followed by Lisa’s terrified scream. 5 My heart tightened. “What happened?!” The call cut off. I tried calling back, but it wouldn’t connect. I had a bad feeling, but I didn’t have time to speculate. They were coming to pick up Dolly in a week. I was running out of time. Early the next morning, I contacted the so-called “Master.” He seemed to expect me, just giving me an address before hanging up. It was a remote mountain village. I drove all day. By evening, I finally saw the old red-tiled house from the address. I gathered my courage and knocked. After a few knocks, a wrinkled face appeared in the crack of the door. “Who are you looking for?” His voice sounded like broken bellows. As he spoke, his cloudy, gray eyes looked me up and down. “A friend sent me. I want the potion that makes meat babies.” I answered truthfully. He paused for a moment, then said abruptly: “Didn’t you come last week?” I froze. He must have mistaken me for my sister, Lisa. We were biological sisters, and people always said we looked alike since childhood. That was why I dared to try this deception. A child made from sisters should look similar. I didn’t explain. “There was an accident. I want to buy another bottle.” The old man looked at me for a moment, went inside, and handed out a bottle of pitch-black liquid. “$5,000 a bottle. Same instructions as before.” I quickly took out the prepared red envelope but stopped him before he closed the door. “Um… what were the instructions again? I forgot. Can you tell me one more time?”

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It was harvest season. I called my ex, and he hung up immediately. Then he texted me instantly. [Not getting back together. Don’t look for me.] [Don’t think I don’t know. You just want me to bring my bodyguards to pick corn for you again.] I blinked, sitting on the ridge of the field, reading the message three times. Finally, I got up and continued picking corn. I couldn’t figure it out. Mark had been clueless for three years. How did he suddenly discover the truth? 1 Staring at the messages, I zoned out for a long time. Mark didn’t text again, and I didn’t reply. Uncle Joe leaned over. “Hey, Mia. Is your gangster boyfriend not coming to pick corn this year?” I stood up, dusting the dry grass off my butt. “Uncle Joe, they’re bodyguards. It’s a civilized society, what gangster?” “When you have time, ask your son to buy you a smartphone. Watch some news, old man.” I went back to picking corn. Behind me, Uncle Joe spat on the ground. “Pfft. Just got dumped by a rich guy. What’s she pretending for?” A sharp corn leaf sliced my hand. I hissed in pain. Grandma heard and hurried over. “Let me see. I told you to wear gloves, but you wouldn’t listen.” I sucked the dirt off my palm and spat it out. “Go back inside, Grandma. Grandpa will start fussing if no one’s watching him.” Before Grandma could speak, the sound of a tractor rumbled in the distance. I froze, staring. No wonder Uncle Joe called Mark a gangster. He was sitting at the front of the tractor, followed by a dozen bodyguards in black suits. Some people’s Prince Charmings ride white horses; mine rides a tractor. Uncle Bill stopped the tractor at the edge of the field. Mark and I stared at each other from a distance. After a long silence, he frowned and walked over to me. “Getting back together is off the table. I was just passing by.” “Bored at home. Taking a walk.” “Oh,” I said. A rich city boy taking a dozen bodyguards for a walk in a cornfield thousands of miles from home. Unique. He frowned at my hand. “Mia, when will your family stop planting this damn corn?” I turned back to the corn, ignoring him. Mark didn’t care. His bodyguards expertly took off their black suit jackets, tossed them on the corn pile, and got to work. It was early October, but the midday sun was still scorching. Many bodyguards took off their white dress shirts too. As I worked, my eyes wandered. Damn, those pecs are huge. Those abs look hard. Suddenly, a dark face appeared between two corn stalks, scaring the life out of me. Mark was wearing white gloves, his face black as thunder. “Put them back on!” He grumbled, watching the bodyguards put their shirts back on, then glared at me, grinding his teeth. “Indecent! Public nuisance! Shameless!” A bodyguard muttered, “What public nuisance? We’re in the middle of nowhere.” Before I could speak, Mark exploded. “Fine, rural nuisance then! So many girls and wives working in the fields, who are you showing off for?” “If you hook someone’s wife and she runs off with you, can you afford the responsibility?” My head was pounding from his noise. I moved to another row. He seemed determined to annoy me, following me to the opposite ridge. I sighed, looking at the young master who had picked exactly three ears of corn in half an hour. “I’ll pay your bodyguards’ wages. You go rest, it’s hot.” Mark, born pale, was now flushed red from the sun. “Who wants your money? Even if you feel bad for me, I won’t get back with you that easily.” He stubbornly kept picking. I had nothing to say. 2 Many hands make light work. Soon, a small portion of the field was cleared. Checking the sun, I invited them home for lunch. I took out my phone and realized Grandma hadn’t replied to my text. But a dozen people were already following me to the house. The gate wasn’t open yet, but the neighbor’s gate opened. “Mia, you’re back?” I paused, looking at the man waving at me. “Brother Sam, you’re back too?” He nodded. “Back to pick corn.” Mark whispered bitchily in my ear. “Brother Sam… sounds like a cheesy romance novel character. Sleazy.” Grandma heard the noise and came out. “Mia’s back? Your grandpa soiled his clothes again, I had to rush back…” She froze, looking at the crowd. Grandma pulled me aside. “Why didn’t you tell me there were so many people?” “It’s fine. I’ll take them to town for noodles.” I turned to tell Mark there was no food at home, but he had already marched inside. Grandpa was sitting shirtless in the yard, sunbathing. Mark grinned, showing all his teeth. “Grandpa! Long time no see!” Grandpa slowly turned his head and smiled at him. “Second Aunt is here? Did your dad wet the bed again?” Mark’s smile froze. My forehead was covered in black lines. I rushed to drag him away. “Let’s go. Lunch.” Mark followed me. Town was far, so I borrowed Uncle Bill’s tractor. Uncle Bill used to haul pigs in it. It was clean now, but Mark’s dog nose could still smell it. “I’m not sitting in that.” I nodded. “Then don’t eat.” Mark glared at me angrily. “Mia, is this the attitude of someone begging to get back together?” “You use me every year and then show your true colors. The corn isn’t even halfway done and you’re giving me attitude? You don’t want to get back together?” He climbed onto the tractor as he spoke, sitting next to me. “Shotgun!” He looked smug as his bodyguards climbed on. I started the engine, chugging forward. What shotgun? The front of the tractor didn’t even have seatbelts; it was a bench seat. As many butts as could fit, that’s how many shotguns there were. The noodle shop in town was instantly packed by us. The owner looked terrified, face pale. Probably thought we were there to smash the place. Mark picked out the green onions with disgust and asked me, “When are you going back to the city?” I stirred my noodles. “Not going back for now.” Mark froze, putting down his chopsticks. “What do you mean?” I slurped a noodle. “What else? City life is tough, I’m coming back to the village.” “I didn’t call you to get back together. I wanted to ask if I could borrow your bodyguards to pick corn. You know how it is.” I sighed. “Here, we bury our dead in our own fields. The cornfield you stepped on today? My parents and ancestors are under there.” A bodyguard nearby sneezed and started eating faster. Mark stared at me. “Grandpa and Grandma can’t let go of the land, and I can’t let go of them. Someone has to do the work.” “I tried hiring locals, but they ignored me. Said I went crazy working in the city, hiring people for such a small plot.” I pouted. “I’ll pay market rate. You don’t have to come every year. I’ll cover their travel and board.” Screech— The chair scraped loudly against the floor. Mark’s chest heaved, his cheeks puffing in and out. “Pick your own damn corn, idiot!” Watching Mark stomp away angrily, I didn’t bother chasing him. The bodyguards looked at each other, unsure whether to leave. I finished my noodles and walked out with the anxious bodyguards. Seeing their young master sitting on the tractor, the bodyguards collectively sighed in relief. Mark sat in his “shotgun” seat, turning his head away from me. 3 The tractor bumped along. Mark finally couldn’t take it. “Mia, you’re doing this on purpose, right? Aiming for every pothole?” I shook my head innocently. That’s just how country roads are. Mark barely ate breakfast, picked corn all morning, and skipped lunch because of his tantrum. His resentment was thick enough to summon ghosts. “I’m gonna be sick! I’m gonna throw up in your car, see how you return it!” He thinks this is his luxury sedan? Vomit is hard to clean? I’ll just hose it down when we get home. Good as new. Mark hadn’t eaten. Grandma and Grandpa were napping. I went to the kitchen to make him noodles. Mark was in the yard fighting the rooster. Every year he comes, my rooster attacks him. Watching the man-versus-chicken chaos, I cracked two eggs into the noodles. This was the third year of my relationship with Mark. Break up, make up, break up, make up. We met at a company party. He was my boss’s friend. My boss got drunk and asked me, the intern, to drive. My first move was backing the car into Mark’s bumper. Three years together. He treated me well, but never introduced me to his family or friends. Colleagues told me the class gap was too big. I couldn’t tell if Mark was serious. But every time I broke up with him, he agreed. And every time I asked to get back together, he came running back for a kiss. Like being together was fine, and being apart was fine too. This was the third month after our tenth breakup. The corn was ripe. I took leave from work. I didn’t expect Mark to follow. Twenty minutes ago, he posted on Instagram, tagged at a bar in the city. Ten minutes later, he was here with bodyguards picking corn. I’m not stupid. He must have been staying at the motel in town recently. Such a spoiled rich kid staying in that dump? I wonder how long he’s been there. I planned to ask him tonight. Some things need moonlight to be said clearly. I brought the noodles out. Mark was talking to someone with his back to me. Seeing me, the person peeked around Mark. My face dropped instantly. “Mia, your boyfriend is here and you don’t treat him well? You can bring him to our house to eat.” I shoved the bowl into Mark’s hands and glared at the man. “Uncle Joe, why aren’t you napping? What are you doing here?” “We don’t need you worrying about our family business.” Mark held the bowl and reached into his pocket. When will he fix this habit of throwing money at people when he’s happy? He pulled out a red envelope. I didn’t even know when he prepared it. He tried to stuff it into Uncle Joe’s hand. “Uncle Joe, right? Thanks for looking after Grandpa and Grandma when Mia and I weren’t around.” Uncle Joe’s eyes lit up seeing the thick envelope. He reached for it. “Mia, your boyfriend is sensible. Knows how to respect elders.” I gritted my teeth, snatched the envelope, glared at Mark, and shoved it back into his pocket. “He’s not my boyfriend. We broke up.” “Uncle Joe, you’re a grown man. Why are you asking for handouts from juniors?” Uncle Joe’s face twisted. He forced a stiff smile. 4 “You little…” I watched his retreating back. Turning around, I saw Mark had put the noodles on the table. “Not good?” I frowned at him. Mark looked unnaturally pale, eyes a bit red. “If I’m not your boyfriend, I’m not. Why speak so harshly?” “Mia, I’ll make you regret this!” I watched Mark stomp away, baffled. What now? Just because I told that old man he wasn’t my boyfriend? I didn’t get him. But seeing the bodyguards resting under the tree leave with him, I sighed. Leaving is good. I shouldn’t have called him. Maybe I was too tired. Corn picking made me delirious. The sun was too hot. I wasn’t thinking straight when I called. I went back inside. Grandma was still napping. Grandpa was muttering to himself on the stool. I took the bowl of noodles and ate slowly. Cooked is cooked. Can’t waste it. But I ate to the bottom and didn’t see the two eggs I put in. I chuckled. Mark, that psycho, ate the eggs and left the noodles. Grandpa stuffed a huge red envelope into my hand, dancing with joy. “Mia, red envelope.” I stared blankly at the envelope. Identical to the one Mark tried to give Uncle Joe. Only this one was bursting at the seams. My heart hurt. I wanted to ask him tonight if he was serious about us. But the male lead ran away. People busy with farm work don’t have time for romance. I napped for a bit, then headed to the field. But when I got there, I froze. The huge cornfield was cleared. Piles of corn were stacked, waiting for Uncle Bill’s truck. Even the stalks were bundled. Uncle Joe stood in his field, voice loud and pointed. “The little vixen knows how to hook men. Didn’t even feed him lunch, and he ran to the field and finished all the work.” I didn’t have the energy to argue. My heart was burning, and so were my eyes. I felt like the answer I wanted, the one Mark never gave, was right in front of me. I took out my phone to call Mark. Hearing the tone, my heart went cold again. Mark blocked me. He left one message on WeChat. [Mia, if you don’t want my love, taste my hate!] Me: …

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My best friend got pregnant and dragged me to an amusement park. I was worried about her health and advised her against the extreme rides, but she accused me of “discriminating against pregnant women” and deliberately picked the wildest ones. She ended up miscarrying on a roller coaster. The baby didn’t make it. In front of her steroid-raging, roid-monster boyfriend, she threw me under the bus, claiming I forced her to go on the rides. The Roid Monster lost it and punched me twice in the temple. I died on the spot. After my death, I learned the truth: my “best friend” had been cheating, the baby wasn’t his, and she was terrified of his domestic violence. She set up the miscarriage to make me the scapegoat. When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the amusement park, standing in line for the roller coaster. 1 “Jasmine, let’s go on this roller coaster! It’s super famous! Come with me!” Chloe grabbed my hand, shaking it excitedly. Bouncing around like a bubbly teenager, you’d never guess she was four months pregnant. I had been reborn at an awkward moment. Chloe had already dragged me into the park. I was already on the pirate ship, so to speak. Even if I left right now, she’d still find a way to pin the blame on me. Reborn, and I’m still stuck to this piece of trash. Running or hiding wasn’t an option! Seeing my silence, Chloe’s face darkened, her tone sharp: “We rarely get to hang out. Are you trying to ruin the mood?” Since we entered the park, her goal was clear. She only wanted the extreme rides: the pirate ship, the giant pendulum, the drop tower… I had tried to dissuade her several times, so she was preemptively shutting me down, expecting another lecture. But this time, I had no intention of stopping her. I smiled. “Of course not! I’m here to help you turn up!” In my past life, the Roid Monster didn’t even know she was pregnant before the miscarriage. To break the cycle, I had to strike first. Let the baby daddy come and join the “celebration”! While Chloe was debating which line to join first, I excused myself to buy drinks and called the Roid Monster. “Travis! You’re about to be a father, why are you still so immature?” Travis, the Roid Monster, sounded confused on the other end. “Jasmine? What the hell are you talking about? Who’s gonna be a father?” “Oh, playing dumb now? You knocked up our Chloe and don’t want to take responsibility, right?” I adopted a sarcastic tone. “Poor Chloe. After finding out she was pregnant, she specifically asked me to bring her to the amusement park to celebrate.” “I was wondering why she only wanted to go on the dangerous rides. Turns out it’s because you’re a deadbeat, and she’s trying to numb the pain with adrenaline!” “Chloe must be blind to fall for a scumbag like you!” Travis was clearly getting agitated: “You said Chloe is pregnant? You guys are at the amusement park?” “Come on, your girlfriend is pregnant and you didn’t know? At least try to act convincing.” “Shut up!” Travis roared through the phone. “Which park are you at?” “Send me the address. I’m coming over!” “Don’t let Chloe go on any rides, or I’ll skin you alive!” “Speak! Which park!!” I stayed silent on purpose, then said after a pause: “Didn’t you tell me to shut up?” Travis choked on his rage. “You want to skin me alive? Travis, if you don’t apologize right now, you can search the whole city yourself!” I could practically hear Travis grinding his teeth. “S-sorry!” I guess he burned through the last of his brain cells to squeeze out that apology. “Good boy. That sounds like a father.” I said with satisfaction, “I’ll text you the address in a bit, but I suggest you hurry. Chloe is currently lining up for the roller coaster. You have maybe an hour. Any later, and I can’t stop her.” I hung up. 2 In my past life, Chloe spent two hours queuing for the giant pendulum, the pirate ship, and the drop tower before finally getting on the “Sky High,” Asia’s longest and most terrifying roller coaster. Honestly, Chloe was terrified of these rides, but the earlier ones hadn’t managed to shake the baby loose. So she gritted her teeth and went for the big one. Travis had plenty of time to get here. But if he just showed up and found out he was being cuckolded, that would be too easy on them. I can’t beat Travis in a fight, but someone else can! Those punches that killed me in my last life? I’m returning them with interest! Thinking of this, I dialed another number. “Is this Kyle? I’m Chloe’s best friend. Heard you knocked her up?” The voice on the other end hesitated. “How do you know? That was just an accident…” Damn, scumbags really do read from the same script. “Cut the crap. Are you going to take responsibility for the kid?” “She has a boyfriend, how can I take responsibility? Besides, didn’t I give her money for the abortion?” “You knew she had a boyfriend and still couldn’t keep it in your pants? You really are an animal!” Even though I hated Chloe for killing me in my past life, hearing Kyle’s classic scumbag attitude still ignited my temper. “Listen to me, Kyle. Chloe is at the amusement park right now, planning to jump off the roller coaster to expose how you played her. When the whole world knows it’s your fault, let’s see how you handle it!” “Her boyfriend is a psycho on steroids. He’ll probably kill your whole family!” Hearing this, Kyle panicked. “Tell Chloe not to be impulsive! I’m coming right now!” 3 After making the calls, I returned to Chloe with the drinks. Chloe complained immediately: “What took you so long? I thought you left.” “No way! Today is the day I found out my bestie is pregnant. I have to make sure you have a blast!” I smiled at her, continuing, “Decided which ride to go on first?” Chloe frowned, thinking hard. “I only want the thrill rides. Pendulum, Pirate Ship, Drop Tower… which one first?” I knew that in my past life, if she hadn’t gone on all of them, the roller coaster alone wouldn’t have caused the miscarriage. The coaster was just the straw that broke the camel’s back. So I quickly said: “Kids make choices, adults do it all!” You definitely can’t miss a single one! Let’s start with the Giant Pendulum! It was early August, scorching hot, and the lines were long. I urged her to drink more water to avoid heatstroke. Chloe was here to induce a miscarriage, not kill herself, so she chugged the drinks I bought. About twenty minutes later, it was our turn. Watching Chloe drag me toward the machine, steeling herself, I sneered internally. She had always been timid growing up, terrified of thrilling rides. This time, to lose the baby and frame me, she was being ruthless not just to me, but to herself. After buckling in, I looked at Chloe’s pale face and couldn’t help teasing: “Chloe, are you scared? We can skip it.” “N-no… not scared!” She forced a smile. “Why would I be scared? I’m too happy!” “That’s great!” While the machine was still idle, I whipped out my phone. “Come on, babe, let’s take a selfie.” I pulled the stiff Chloe toward the camera without hesitation. “Smile!” In the lens, Chloe forced a pained smile, her lips white. I pouted my lips, pressed the shutter, and whispered in her ear: “Love you!” As soon as I finished, the pendulum started moving. As it slowly swung, the centrifugal force was disorienting. Then the speed and amplitude increased. I glanced at Chloe from the corner of my eye. Her expression went from twisted to blank, then twisted again. Her breathing was rapid, then stopped. Like she was enduring immense pain. I knew the show was about to start. Suddenly, Chloe screamed: “I can’t hold it!” I quickly shifted my legs away, daring not to get too close. Pregnant women have to pee often, and I had just pumped her full of fluids. It was time. Spray, my best friend! Next, Chloe let out a massive scream, starting high-pitched and then deflating rapidly. “AHHHHHHH!!!” Chloe was wearing a white skirt. She had been clenching her legs, but suddenly relaxed them, and a stream of yellow liquid burst forth. Even though I was prepared, the sheer volume shocked me! As the pendulum swung higher, the yellow liquid shattered in the air, creating a spectacular mist! “Ahhh so dizzy so exciting!!” “Ahhh something got in my mouth?? What is this??” “Why does it smell like piss! Is this pee??” “WTF, which idiot peed on the pendulum??” Other tourists enjoying the ride suddenly realized something was wrong. The screams of excitement were instantly silenced. When I went to buy drinks, I had bought myself a disposable raincoat and a mask. Watching all this, I laughed so hard I could barely breathe. This was definitely the most exciting pendulum ride in history! We both play the best friend game, but today I’ll show you what a true “evil best friend” looks like, Chloe! 4 After the pendulum stopped, the silence was terrifying. Everyone was stunned by the bizarre scene. Faces were filled with a mix of anger and inexplicable confusion. Seeing the awkward atmosphere, I shouted righteously: “Who was raised by wolves? Peeling on the pendulum? Have some decency!” Chloe looked at me in shock, unable to believe I was cursing her. I quickly whispered to her: “You curse too, or everyone will know it was you!” Chloe froze for a second, then stammered: “Yeah… that’s too bad!” “Not harsh enough!” I said seriously. “Do you want to be suspected and beaten to death?” “But I… can’t curse myself.” “Learn from me!” I shot her a reproachful look, then yelled loudly: “Disgusting trash! I hope your kids are born without assholes!” Chloe struggled to open her mouth. I feigned anxiety and pinched her arm hard. “Curse! Do you want to die?” Chloe’s face twisted in pain, and she yelled out: “Disgusting trash born without assholes!” Hearing us curse, the others on the ride got fired up too. And the people waiting in line below, who hadn’t escaped the golden rain, were already furious. Finally, curses invoking eighteen generations of ancestors filled the air! Amidst the cursing, I dragged Chloe out of the crowd. 5 We had walked quite a distance from the pendulum, but Chloe still looked shaken. Hard to tell if she was shaken by the cursing or the peeing. I didn’t care. I dragged her towards the roller coaster. Chloe smelled like urine the whole way. Just as I was about to mention it, she couldn’t take it anymore. “Jasmine, my underwear is wet, it’s so uncomfortable to walk…” She had no choice but to go to the restroom and wash up a bit. As for the soaked underwear, she threw it away. The amusement park didn’t sell underwear, so when Chloe came out, she was commando under her skirt. Seeing her calm expression return, I felt both amused and disgusted. Who would have thought? A pregnant woman riding roller coasters bare-bottomed in a crowded amusement park. The line for the roller coaster was even longer, winding like a snake. My phone buzzed. It was the scumbag Kyle. [I’m at the gate. Chloe hasn’t done anything rash, has she? Keep her steady!] Kyle worked a government job. He didn’t care if Chloe lived or died, but if this blew up and reached his employer, his career was over. Most importantly, offending a roid-raging psycho put his whole family at risk! I quickly took another selfie with Chloe. By now, after the pendulum incident, she looked pale, eyes vacant, looking truly hopeless. I sent the photo, suppressing my laughter as I typed: [Hurry up! She’s in bad shape, could jump any minute!] [She’s planning to jump from the highest point of the roller coaster! I can’t hold her back!] Seeing the corner of my mouth twitching, Chloe asked curiously, “Jasmine, why is your face weird?” “About to ride Asia’s longest, most exciting roller coaster. Just excited and nervous.” I explained casually, scanning the crowd. Not long after, a bespectacled, slightly chubby man came running, panting heavily. It was Kyle! He scanned the massive crowd, finally spotting us in line. He charged forward, diving into the crowd, yelling. “Chloe! My goddess! Wait for me, don’t get on yet!” A grown man shoving through the line caused immediate outrage. “Hey! Why are you cutting?” “Are you sick? Wait in line like everyone else!” “You look civilized with those glasses, why no manners?” “Stop pushing, you stepped on my foot!” Chloe looked confused. “Kyle? Why is he here?” Then she blushed shyly, muttering to herself, “Did he come because he wants the baby?” While she was wondering, Kyle, ignoring the insults, stumbled his way to us. The previous ride had just finished. A staff member walked over and pointed at him. “Sir, please go to the back of the line!” “I’m giving him my spot!” I raised my hand and shouted, then turned to Kyle. “You go with her!” Although Kyle was out of breath from running and shoving, he froze for a second hearing this. I patted his shoulder. “What are you waiting for? Isn’t it safer if you’re with her?” Then I asked the staff to let me out of the line and stood to the side. Chloe had no idea she was a suicidal woman in Kyle’s eyes. She thought the scumbag came to protect the baby, so she blushed and leaned into his arms. Kyle started, “Maybe we shouldn’t…” Before he could finish, the gate opened, and the crowd pushed them forward. He had to bite the bullet, putting his arm around Chloe and walking toward the roller coaster.

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My fiancé, Julian, loves snakes. As his fiancée, I was terrified of them. Every time I cried, he’d sneer, “Stop faking it.” I tried so hard to overcome my fear. Until one day, a girl appeared who wasn’t afraid of snakes. She wandered in and out of his room, playing with his little pet snake. Finally, I gave up. I was packing my bags to call off the engagement when suddenly, a stream of comments scrolled across my vision like a livestream chat: [Yes! Run, girl! Don’t let that bad snake wrap around you!] [Hahaha, the male lead is gonna lose his mind. It’s been ten years and she’s still scared of snakes. Wait till she sees him shedding!] [Am I the only one who wants to see the good girl get pinned against the wall by the out-of-control male lead until her eyes lose focus?] I shuddered in fear. When I turned around, Julian closed the door behind him and asked coldly: “Packing your bags? Planning to run?” 1 I didn’t get it. I woke up early, packed quietly, and even closed the door. So why did Julian’s snake still slither in? “Don’t… don’t come over here.” I shrank into the corner. The little black snake stopped at the door, flicking its tongue. Hiss. For some reason, I felt like it was staring at my suitcase on the floor. And it looked pissed. I made a “shoo” gesture at it. “Just stay there. Don’t come closer. Don’t move, okay?” The snake stopped moving. It just stared at me with eyes like tiny black grapes. I let out a sigh of relief and continued packing as quietly as I could. “Where are you going so early?” The door creaked open. Julian leaned against the frame, looking down at me, enunciating every word: “Fi-an-cée.” I jumped like a startled rabbit, stammering, “Going… going on a trip. Just for fun.” “With whom?” “A friend. You don’t know them.” He narrowed his eyes. Slowly walking towards me. I instinctively stepped back. He scoffed, annoyed. “Scared of snakes, fine. But scared of me too?” Actually, I wasn’t scared of him. But the girl who had been frequenting his greenhouse lately… She made me feel like a clown. I turned my head away, biting my lip, silent. “Fine.” Julian suddenly crouched down and picked up the little black snake. The snake wrapped obediently around his wrist, lifting its head and hissing. He stared at me tightly. “Touch it.” I looked terrified. The air around Julian seemed to drop a few degrees. He repeated, “Touch it. Take care of it for one night. If you do, I’ll let you go.” Despite his bad temper, Julian was a man of his word. So I gathered my courage and reached out. The snake stretched its head towards me. My hand trembled, and it slithered right on. “Ah—” I yelped. The little black snake greedily wrapped around my wrist, its tail rubbing back and forth. “Mmph.” Simultaneously, Julian let out a muffled groan. His expression was ugly, but a strange blush rose on his cheeks. I looked at him in confusion. Julian snapped, angry out of embarrassment: “Get out. Give it back to me tomorrow.” 2 After Julian left, the snake and I stared at each other. Besides constantly rubbing its tail against me, it was pretty well-behaved. “Why do you keep rubbing me…” I muttered to myself. The snake kept staring. Just then, a line of text appeared out of nowhere in front of my eyes: [Because he wants to mark you.] ??? Mark me? Like a dog peeing on a tree? Then, another line popped up: [Girl, try touching the spot where it’s rubbing you. You’ll get a surprise.] What is this? I didn’t get it, but curiosity got the better of me. I rubbed the spot on the snake with my fingertip. Meanwhile— In Julian’s room. “Nngh…” In the darkened room with curtains drawn tight, he sat on the carpet leaning against the bed. His shirt was open, and his pants seemed… complicated. “F*ck.” His face was flushed deep red. His breathing grew heavy. “I thought you were scared of snakes?” “Where the hell are you touching?” Touching is one thing. But she wasn’t even touching enough to satisfy him. 3 The snake’s tail wagged faster. Its tongue flicked rapidly. I got scared and waved my hand, accidentally flinging it onto the floor. [Hahahahahahahahahaha—] [I’m dying. The male lead is so pitiful. Is he gonna get ED?] [Our girl is too cute. She thinks she’s punishing him, but it’s actually a reward.] A barrage of subtitles appeared before my eyes. They all seemed to mean the same thing. Who is this “he”? The snake? The snake slithered up from the floor, its black eyes staring at me for a few seconds like it wanted to eat me. Then it flicked its tail and crawled to the other side of the room, far away from me. Like it was mad. Worried I might have broken it, I decided to ask Julian for a glass tank for it to sleep in. Knock knock knock— I knocked on his door. The door was unusually closed, and no one answered. Weird. Julian never closed his door. He even left it a crack open. Every time I walked by, I’d accidentally see him changing, and he’d scoff and call me a “pervert” or “shameless.” [Scheming man. Always peacocking to seduce our girl.] [Girl, don’t be fooled! I’m telling you, he’s dangerous right now. Push the door open!] [Yes, yes! The male lead is suffering right now, you need to go help him.] Dangerous? Suffering? Does he need my help? I was torn. 4 “What do you want?” The door opened. Julian looked impatient. “Knocking like that, do you want to die?” I suddenly regretted trusting the floating text. But he really did look… abnormal. Clothes messy, face red. To be blunt, he looked like he’d just been thoroughly ravished. “What were you doing in there?” I leaned forward, trying to peek inside. Julian blocked me, anxious. “None of your business!” “There’s a weird smell,” I sniffed. “Did your snake mate in there?” “Chloe!” See, anxious again. I frowned. “Did you do something bad? Why are you panicking?” [Girl, stop asking, he’s gonna explode.] [Let’s go, let’s go. I’m afraid he’ll lose control and eat our girl.] [LMAO, every sentence is a bullseye. The scheming man can’t hide it anymore.] Can’t hide it? I suddenly understood. My face fell. I looked at Julian and said, “Bianca is in there, isn’t she?” He froze. I turned my head away, continuing, “You did bad things with her, and you didn’t even hide it from me. What am I to you?” Julian was still frozen. Reacting, he tried to close the door. “No, you…” “Scumbag!” I slammed the door in his face for him. Cursed him out and left. Back in my room. I sat against the door, hugging my knees, burying my head. I couldn’t see the comments above me. [Oh no, oh no, she misunderstood.] [Good! Let her misunderstand so she can leave cleanly.] [Yeah, let them misunderstand. The male lead has a toxic mouth anyway, why give him a wife?] […Am I the only one who wants to see the male lead force himself on her? She tries to leave, he just takes her… hehe.] [Agreed with above.] I sniffled. Looking up, I only saw the last comment: [So what? With Bianca the side chick around, our girl will always be wronged. If the scheming man doesn’t fix it, he can get lost.] Right. Julian and I were betrothed since we were kids. He loved snakes. I feared them. Every time he held a snake, I ran away crying, and he mocked me. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t overcome it. Until I saw Bianca for the first time. In Julian’s snake greenhouse. The girl wore a white dress, the snake wrapped gently around her. She smiled, and Julian watched her with gentle eyes. That’s when I understood. I’m afraid of snakes. But there are plenty of girls in the world who aren’t.

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I was tipping a male model on a group stream, but my finger slipped, and I accidentally sent a Yacht to his teammate. The model didn’t show any emotion on screen. But then, the guy who had been ignoring me for a month DMs me for the first time. [Send me 52 Carnivals right now as compensation, or I’m unfollowing you to punish you, sis.] I was stunned. A minute later, I got a DM from his teammate. [Thank you, sis. It’s my first time receiving a Yacht. I’ll always remember you. /heart] Oh. So tipping can get you emotional value. Guess I’ll chase the sensible one then. Later, when the model saw me casually drop 520 Carnivals on his teammate, he lost it, screaming for a refund, insisting I clicked the wrong person. 1 When I got Jax’s DM, I felt a bit uncomfortable. But then I thought about it. I did send the gift to the wrong person first, affecting his spotlight. Plus, I usually only tipped Jax in this stream. Suddenly sending a Sports Car to his rival? Understandable he’d be upset. Male gods have tempers, right? Just as I was about to send him ten Yachts as compensation, a new notification popped up. [System Notification: KU-Zayne followed you.] Then a DM from this account popped up. KU-Zayne: [Thank you, sis. It’s my first time receiving a Yacht. I’ll always remember you. /heart] I paused for a few seconds, clicked on the profile to enlarge the avatar, and barely matched it to the filtered face in the stream. Zayne. Seems like the guy I accidentally gifted. Looking closely, his face isn’t inferior to Jax’s. The stream makeup was obviously bad; he looks cleaner and more refined in person. But there’s no helping it. Zayne has only been here a few days and always stands in the back row. In a group stream of ten, seeing two-thirds of his face on screen is considered good. But he doesn’t seem to know the tip was a mistake. His words were… quite sincere. It’s just a Yacht. No need to explain and disappoint him. I didn’t plan to reply. Just as I was about to exit, he sent another message. KU-Zayne: [Sis, I will work even harder on my dancing. I won’t let your encouragement down!] Uh, kind of a pitiful little transparent guy. Thanking me multiple times for one Yacht. I replied with a polite [Fighting!], planning to go back to the stream to tip Jax. But suddenly, my phone started blowing up with notifications. All from Jax. KU-Jax: [?] [Sis, didn’t you see my message?] [Why haven’t you tipped me yet?] [What’s the meaning of this?] [So, sis, you tipped someone else on purpose to make me mad?] [Fine.] [I get it.] I was confused. Sent a [?] back. Received a red exclamation mark. ? Excuse me? He blocked me?! Anger flared in my chest. I’ve been chasing him and tipping him for two months, spending at least ten thousand dollars. And just because of one mistake, he gives me attitude? Fine. If you look down on me so much, plenty of others won’t. Sister is done playing. Just as I was angrily closing the app, I glanced at the pitiful handsome guy’s message again. My finger paused. I’ve been ruthless my whole life. But I have a soft spot for humble, hardworking, handsome guys. Even if he’s faking it, at least he’s willing to put in the effort for me. So, I stormed back into the livestream. 2 As soon as I returned to the stream. The host specifically greeted me. “Our Jax’s number one Yacht Sister is back! Oh my, Jax is secure tonight.” This group stream team was only formed two months ago. Still growing. Not many die-hard fans, so I rank pretty high on the tipping list. And I have OCD. Every time I tip, it’s only Yachts. Easy to remember. Hearing the host mention my name, Jax’s mouth twitched almost imperceptibly. But in a flash, he returned to his usual aloof self. Just then, a beautiful avatar entered the stream and immediately dropped a Sports Car for him. [Little brother is so handsome, hit me right in the heart. Love it.] The host thanked her as usual and read out the comment. Jax smiled shyly. After finishing his dance move, as if to spite me, he rarely made a heart with his hands and personally thanked her. “Thanks to the beauty for the Sports Car. Please continue to support me!” The chat went wild. [Holy crap, never seen Jax so shy and enthusiastic.] [First time seeing Jax make a heart. Rich sisters, send more cars! Nice! Love to see it!] [Miss is so generous. Looking at her profile, she’s a real beauty.] [A real rich heiress. Is Jax moved?] Perhaps seeing Jax in such a good mood, many old fans followed with gifts. Bouquets and hot air balloons popped up on the screen non-stop. Very lively. Jax couldn’t hide his smile, interacting with extra cooperation. Hearts and thanks never stopped. Even the host wondered: “What good thing happened to Jax tonight? Such a good mood?” I felt even more stifled. Usually, I drop a $100 Yacht, and I’ve never seen him react like this. No matter how many I send, it’s just a faint smile. A newbie sends a small gift, and he gives such emotional feedback. Then what are my Yachts? In a rage, I clicked the gift bar and sent another Yacht directly to that Zayne guy. “Thanks to my Yacht Sister for sending Jax…” The word “Yacht” hadn’t even fully left his mouth when the host’s habitual thank-you speech stuck. Realizing what happened, he quickly corrected himself: “Oh, sorry, misread that. The Yacht was for Zayne.” Hearing this, the whole team clearly froze for two seconds, tilting their heads to look at Zayne in the back row. Zayne was in disbelief, walking forward confusedly. And Jax, who was standing in the center, was even more shocked than Zayne. 3 Staring at the monitor for a few seconds to confirm, Jax reluctantly moved aside. Zayne stood in the center, visibly panicked. Recovering, he bowed deeply to the screen in gratitude. Just as he opened his mouth to say “Thank you, sis.” I sent another Yacht. Zayne was about to dance, but seeing the new Yacht, he bowed again to thank me. When he stood up, I sent another one. For a moment, on screen, the Yachts didn’t stop coming. Zayne was bewildered. Jax’s face was ugly beyond belief. He looked around anxiously, looking like he wanted to rush out of the screen and grab me to question me. The host excitedly announced the tips, voice getting louder each time. The chat refreshed rapidly. [Holy crap, Yacht Sis is flexing her power again!] [That’s my Yacht Sis.] [Wait, isn’t this wrong?] [Did she click the wrong person?] [Sis, stop, wrong person!] [Yacht Sis only tips our Jax. Why tip the newbie? System error?] [No, forced push for the newbie? Sis, go complain to the platform about rigging!] […] Even the host, after excitedly saying thanks a dozen times, couldn’t help but mutter, “Is it a mistake…” Zayne bowed in thanks over and over, tears flashing in his eyes. Seeing I had no intention of stopping, he anxiously tried to persuade me: “Sis, stop sending, it’s enough, really enough.” “Thank you so much, sis. I will continue to work hard!” As soon as he finished speaking, I dropped 52 Yachts in one breath. I like this feeling of give and take. So much more comfortable than tipping that fake aloof Jax who PUAs me. Sister drops cold hard cash just to feel good. Besides, Zayne stood in the center for so long, I looked carefully. Ignoring the lazy makeup, his facial features are really good. Especially those long legs, dancing like they want to claim a life. Other streamers wear lifts; his soles are thin slices. Even so, he’s half a head taller than Jax. No wonder he was banished to the back. Seeing so many Yachts, but none for him, Jax’s face hit rock bottom. Unable to hold back, he flipped out on the spot. He pushed Zayne, who was standing in the center, aside and walked out of the frame dissatisfied. Even through the screen, you could hear him leave a hasty word to the host before disappearing. “The system must be glitching. Sister’s Yachts for me went to someone else. I’ll go communicate.” Ten seconds after Jax left. I received a new message on my phone screen. KU-Jax: [Sis, look clearly before you tip. You clicked the wrong person, you know? F*ck] 4 The message stayed for only two seconds before being quickly recalled by the sender. Huh, wasn’t I blocked? Added me back himself? Thought he had some backbone. Just as I finished sighing, a pile of new messages popped up in the chat box. KU-Jax: [Sis, pay attention when clicking gifts. Sent them all to someone else.] [Why don’t you ask official support for a refund?] [Forget it, it’s fine if you can’t.] [Tip me again. Slowly, look clearly before clicking!] [?] [Why aren’t you replying? Sis isn’t mad, is she?] [Sorry, I got a little jealous seeing Sis tip someone else earlier. Spoke a bit fast, don’t overthink it.] [Sis, it’s a deal then. Come back to the livestream immediately.] Tsk tsk. Known Jax for so long, this is the first time he’s actively sent so many words. Too bad it’s too late. Your sister has lost interest. I didn’t reply, didn’t block. Just left him hanging, then closed the app. I originally watched their group stream to research the market. The group planned to acquire their KU Media company. Unexpectedly, I watched a few glances of this flop group’s stream and got a bit hooked. After a couple of times, I was attracted to Jax’s type. He really fits my aesthetic. High nose bridge, smooth face, especially the thin muscles revealed inadvertently. Jax is different from other streamers. Aloof, but… teases just right. A little tsundere too. Not like those who have a little beauty and have “empty your wallet” written all over their faces. At first, I was bored. Every time I scrolled past, I’d drop him a Yacht. He’d just smile and thank me. Not like my assistant said, that in this kind of flop stream, a $1.50 gift gets a follow back. Two days later, I sent 10 Yachts at once. He DM’d me a thank you that night. A few days later, I clicked in and saw him losing a PK (Player Kill/Battle) so bad he was about to cry. I dropped 100 Yachts on the spot to help him win. Only then did he finally follow me back. After following, he remained aloof. Except for saying a sentence or two more when complaining about poor performance, high pressure, and hinting for gifts, he basically didn’t chat much. I didn’t care. Life is dull. Admiring handsome guys on the internet to relieve boredom. Each takes what they need. Sister doesn’t lack this small money anyway. But I didn’t expect that the easier I was to talk to and the less I asked for, the less he cared about my feelings. Last month, just because I was too busy with a business trip and didn’t go online for three days, he gave me the cold shoulder for a month. Acted like he was sure I wouldn’t stop liking him. Throwing tantrums at the drop of a hat. Loving someone means giving without asking for return. But I don’t love him. Why should I spend money and take this crap? This one is insensible? Change to another. The next one will definitely be more obedient.

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1 At the peak of my career, the youngest tenured law professor in the state, I married my childhood sweetheart, Evelyn. They called us the “Twin Stars of the legal world,” and to everyone who looked, we were the perfect, loving couple. Then, in the tenth year of our marriage, my mother took our son out for the day. A car crash shattered everything. The driver was drunk, street racing. My mother’s only instinct was to shield her grandson with her body. She died on impact. And now, in the courtroom, I saw my wife, Evelyn, sitting not beside me, but beside the killer, Raymond Croft. She was his defense attorney. “My client was operating his vehicle in a normal fashion,” she declared to the court, her voice crisp and professional. “The deceased suddenly darted into the road in an apparent attempt to stage an accident for a fraudulent claim. Therefore, the deceased bears the primary responsibility for this tragic outcome.” I stared at the woman I thought I knew, my vision blurring with red-hot rage. “My mother would never do that! I have a witness!” But when my ten-year-old son, my witness, took the stand, he ran to Raymond’s side and clung to his arm. “I saw it,” he said, his voice small but clear. “Grandma tried to get money from Uncle Raymond. She ran right at his car. Dad wanted me to lie, but I won’t. I won’t let anyone hurt my Uncle Raymond.” The world beneath my feet turned to ice. … The trial was over before it began. The judge found the defendant, Raymond Croft, not guilty. And me? As the family member of the party at fault, I was ordered to cover the primary damages—twenty thousand dollars for the repairs to Raymond’s car. I stood on the courthouse steps, a hollowed-out shell of a man, watching Evelyn and my son approach. “Why?” The word was a ragged whisper. “You knew he killed her. You knew. Why would you help him?” “I’m sorry,” she said, her expression unreadable. “Raymond’s mother died years ago saving me in the mountains. I owe him a debt.” She held out a bank card. “There’s another twenty thousand on here. A little something from Raymond, for your trouble.” “My trouble?” I snatched the card, snapped it in two, and threw the pieces in her face. A raw, guttural scream tore from my throat. “Evelyn, is that all my mother’s life is worth to you? Twenty thousand dollars? She was a person! She was my mother!” “The debt you owe Raymond—what gives you the right to pay it with my mother’s life?” “That’s enough!” Evelyn’s voice was sharp, impatient. “This is a courthouse. Don’t make a scene.” My son, Leo, stood beside her, his small face scrunched in disapproval. “Yeah, Dad. Grandma’s dead, so what? If Uncle Raymond went to jail, who would play with me? Why are you being so selfish!” I froze, a chill so profound it seemed to stop my heart. Selfish? I couldn’t fathom that the boy I had raised for a decade, the boy I loved more than life itself, could see me this way. Raymond walked over, a smug, triumphant smirk playing on his lips. “Come on, Ethan. Leo’s just a kid. Don’t take it so hard.” “Uncle Raymond!” Leo’s face lit up. He scampered over, tugging at Raymond’s arm. “I’m a big boy now. I’ll protect you.” “That’s my guy,” Raymond said, scooping Leo into his arms. They looked, for all the world, like a real father and son. I watched them, a bitter, hysterical laugh bubbling in my chest. This was the son I cherished. This was the family I had sacrificed my career to build and protect. Evelyn, cool and composed, pulled a document from her briefcase. “This is an agreement to waive your right to appeal. Sign it, and this whole thing will be over.” “Never.” I ripped the paper from her hand and tore it to shreds. “Don’t you forget, Evelyn. I studied law, too. I was a damn good lawyer. I will not let my mother die in vain.” Her eyes turned to steel. “Then you can try.” 2 After leaving the courthouse, I went back to the scene of the crash. I filed a request for the traffic camera footage, only to be told the cameras in that section had been removed for maintenance. The footage was gone. The car involved had, I was told, “accidentally” rolled into a lake, destroying any remaining evidence. Evelyn had been thorough, erasing every trace of Raymond’s crime. I liquidated my assets, cashed in every favor from my old life, and finally, through a contact at the coroner’s office, got my hands on my mother’s full autopsy report. Multiple comminuted fractures across the body. Evidence of repeated crushing force from a vehicle’s tire on the thoracic and abdominal cavities. The clinical language painted a brutal picture. This wasn’t an accident. It was a deliberate, vicious murder. I left the morgue, report in hand, ready to file an appeal, but Evelyn was there, waiting for me. “What are you doing here, Evelyn?” “I told you, it’s over. Raymond made a mistake.” “He’s so young,” she pleaded. “Are you really going to destroy his entire life just to prove a point?” She lunged, tearing the report from my grasp as her bodyguards moved in, heading for the morgue. They were going to take my mother’s body. I fought, trying to get past her, but she wrapped her arms around me, holding me in an iron grip. “Let me go! He murdered her, Evelyn! It was murder!” “Stop it! I said it’s over!” “On what grounds? He’s a killer! He killed my mother! He has to pay!” “Ethan, don’t make me do this.” She had her men drag me to the crematorium. They carried my mother’s body inside and pushed it toward the furnace. “No!” I thrashed against her, my voice cracking with desperation. “Evelyn, please, let me go! I’m begging you… She was murdered. You can’t do this…” “You’re a lawyer. You know the truth. How can you help him destroy the evidence?” My throat was raw from screaming. For a moment, I saw a flicker of something in her eyes—pity, perhaps—but her grip never loosened. “I’m sorry, Ethan. But Raymond is my line in the sand. I won’t let anyone hurt him. Not even you.” Her voice was a low, chilling promise. “When this is all over, I’ll make it up to you.” The minutes stretched into an eternity. Then, an attendant emerged, carrying a box of ashes. All the strength drained out of me. I collapsed to the floor, a hollowed-out wreck. “Mom… I’m so sorry…” “It’s done,” Evelyn said, her voice softening slightly. “The body has been cremated. Your ‘evidence’ is worthless now. Just let it go.” Her phone buzzed, shattering the silence. Raymond’s cheerful voice echoed from the speaker. “Evelyn! Leo wants to go to the amusement park. Where are you?” “Okay,” she replied, her tone instantly brightening. “I’m on my way.” She hung up and walked away without a backward glance. I knelt on the cold floor, clutching my mother’s ashes, my body wracked with violent tremors. I had the proof, but it was too late. My mother’s killer was free, defended by the daughter-in-law she had adored, and condemned by the grandson she had died to save. A sharp, searing pain tore through my chest. Nausea rose in my throat, hot and acidic. I doubled over, coughing up a mouthful of blood as the world went black. 3 When I came to, I was in my own bed. My phone was buzzing incessantly, a storm of anonymous, hateful messages and threatening calls. The headline was trending nationally: Elderly Woman Dies in Botched Cash-for-Crash Scam. The comments were a cesspool of vitriol. “Good riddance. Serves the old hag right for trying to pull a scam.” “The driver’s a hero! Imagine trying to scam someone with your grandkid there. Thank God the kid had a conscience and told the truth.” “Scum like her should just disappear from the planet.” I scrolled through the endless river of hate, each word a fresh cut on my already bleeding heart. And there, at the top of the trending list, was another story: Star Attorney Evelyn Reed Treats Husband and Son to a Magical Night at the Amusement Park, Complete with a Romantic Fireworks Display. The accompanying photo showed the three of them—Evelyn, Leo, and Raymond—holding hands, smiling, a perfect family. It was a dagger to the heart. I remembered when Evelyn and I were like that. When we first married, she told me she never wanted to be a housewife. So I was the one who stepped back, sacrificing my own partnership track to support her soaring career. “Darling,” she used to say, her voice soft with gratitude, “I’ll never forget what you’ve given up for this family. I swear I’ll never let you down.” When Leo was born premature, frail and fighting for every breath, I was the one who spent sleepless nights by his incubator, the one who begged and pleaded with every specialist I could find until he was safe. I hovered over him as he grew, terrified of losing him, carefully guarding his fragile health. He used to curl up in my lap, his little voice full of adoration. “Daddy, when I grow up, I’m going to take care of you just like you take care of me.” But everything changed three years ago, when Raymond came into our lives as Evelyn’s mentee and legal assistant. Evelyn started coming home later and later. She’d complain about Raymond’s constant mistakes, how he was nothing compared to how sharp I’d been at his age, yet she’d stay at the office with him until all hours, patiently guiding him. Slowly, Leo began to drift away from me, too. The junk food I forbade, Raymond supplied in endless quantities. When I pushed him to do his homework, Raymond would sneak him out to play video games. It all culminated the day I overheard him telling his friend, “I don’t like my dad. I wish Uncle Raymond was my dad.” The bedroom door creaked open. Evelyn walked in, a series of fresh, angry-looking bruises blooming on her neck. “Don’t pay any attention to the noise online,” she said dismissively. “I’ll have my people take care of it.” My gaze was flat, empty. I noticed for the first time that her wedding ring was gone. The faint, cloying scent of Raymond’s cologne clung to her clothes. Leo burst into the room, tugging impatiently at her hand. “See, Mom? I told you Dad was fine. Let’s go! Uncle Raymond is waiting for us to take our family photos.” Evelyn offered a weak explanation. “It’s just for fun. Raymond doesn’t have any family, so he’s always wanted a proper family portrait.” I listened, but I felt nothing. The years of quiet agony had hollowed me out completely. I reached into the bottom drawer of my nightstand and pulled out a folded piece of paper. The divorce agreement. I had drafted it months ago, but could never bring myself to use it. Now, my hand was steady. “Evelyn,” I said, my voice devoid of all emotion. “Let’s get a divorce.” 4 “What?” Evelyn stared at me, her initial shock quickly hardening into annoyance. “I already explained. Raymond lost his mother. He has no one. Leo and I are just trying to comfort him by taking these photos.” Leo, standing beside her, glared at me with cold eyes. “You’re just jealous of Uncle Raymond, so you want to divorce Mom?” He scoffed. “Fine with me. I won’t live with you anyway. You’re useless and boring, and Mom has to pay for everything. You’re nothing compared to him.” The venom in his words finally severed the last, frayed thread of hope I’d been clinging to. “Fine,” I said, my voice flat. “I don’t want you anymore. Go find your new dad.” Leo froze, his mouth falling open in shock. “Enough!” Evelyn snapped. “Do you have to be so ugly about this in front of our son?” She snatched a pen from the nightstand and scrawled her name on the divorce papers. “I hope you don’t regret this.” “Don’t worry,” I said, each word a stone dropping into a well. “I won’t.” Seeing her signature on that paper was like a pressure valve releasing in my soul. I felt… light. From our first date to our last day of marriage, I had bent and broken pieces of myself for her. I’d given up my passions, my career, my very identity, transforming from a legal prodigy into a house husband. The memories flashed before my eyes, a montage of a life that was no longer mine. I folded the agreement and tucked it away. I looked at my son one last time. “Leo, you’re ten years old now. Take care of yourself. The only reason I didn’t let you eat junk food was because of your health…” “I don’t want to hear it!” he shouted, clamping his hands over his ears. “You’re always lecturing me! You and Mom are divorced, so you can’t tell me what to do anymore. Uncle Raymond is my dad now!” I looked at the furious boy in front of me and thought of the sweet child who used to hug my legs and call me daddy. A dull ache spread through my chest. “Okay,” I said softly. “I won’t say another word.” … After leaving the house, I used the last of my connections to find one final piece of evidence and secretly delivered it to the criminal investigation unit. Then, alone, I carried my mother’s ashes to Blackwood Ridge. It’s where my father was buried. My mother had always said her only wish was to be laid to rest beside him. The lonely burial was interrupted. Raymond appeared, his custom leather shoes crunching on the gravel path, a mocking smile on his face. “Ethan. I heard you and Evelyn finally split. Good to see you know when to quit.” “What are you doing here?” My voice was thick with hatred. The man who murdered my mother was standing here, desecrating her final resting place, and I was powerless to stop him. “Just admiring my handiwork,” he said with a casual shrug. “You probably don’t know how bad it was when she died, do you? I made sure to drive back and forth over her a few times. Really made sure the job was done.” “Raymond!” I lunged, my control finally snapping, but he was ready. He threw himself to the ground just as Evelyn and Leo rushed into view. Leo ran to Raymond’s side, helping him up with a gentle hand before turning to me, his face a mask of fury. “You bully! I won’t let you hurt Uncle Raymond!” A sharp sting exploded across my cheek. Evelyn had slapped me, her eyes blazing with undisguised rage. “What the hell is wrong with you, Ethan? Raymond came here to pay his respects, and you attack him?” “Apologize to him. Now.” Blood trickled from the corner of my mouth. I looked at the woman and child shielding my mother’s killer, and my shattered heart still found a way to break a little more. “Today is my mother’s burial,” I said, my voice trembling. “And you want me to apologize to the man who murdered her?” “That’s a separate issue. I told you, the accident is a closed case. You hurt Raymond, and you will apologize for it.” “And if I don’t?” 5 Evelyn snatched the urn containing my mother’s ashes. “I’ll say this one last time. Apologize.” “Evelyn, do you have any idea what you’re doing?” I reached for the urn, my hands shaking. Her expression was cold as stone. She stood at the very edge of the cliff, holding the urn out over the abyss. “Raymond is my line in the sand, Ethan. Don’t push me.” Tears streamed down my face. “Don’t,” I begged, my voice breaking. “Evelyn, please… I’ll apologize… I’ll do it…” But Raymond, playing the magnanimous victim, waved a dismissive hand. “Evelyn, it’s fine, really. I’m sure Ethan didn’t mean to hurt me.” “No,” she said, her voice firm. “When you do something wrong, you have to face the consequences.” I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms. The woman before me was a stranger. So she did understand that wrongdoers deserved to be punished. “I’m sorry,” I choked out, bowing my head in the ultimate act of humiliation. But Leo wasn’t satisfied. He tugged on Raymond’s sleeve. “Dad, you’re supposed to kneel when you apologize. He’s not being sincere.” “Leo, don’t say that, he’s still your father…” “Not anymore. You’re my dad now, Uncle Raymond.” I looked at my son, and the last flicker of hope inside me died. Defeated, I sank to my knees. “I’m sorry,” I whispered to the dirt. “It was all my fault. Please… forgive me.” My eyes, red and swollen, pleaded with Evelyn. “My mother suffered enough in her life. I just want her to be with my father. Please…” A crack appeared in her icy facade. For a second, I saw the woman I once loved. She started to hand the urn back. And then, Raymond stumbled with a cry of pain. Instinctively, Evelyn reached out to steady him. The urn slipped from her grasp, tumbling through the air and over the side of the cliff. “NO!” I watched it fall, a slow-motion nightmare. I scrambled forward, lunging for it, not caring about the drop below. Evelyn yanked me back from the edge. “It’s just a box of ashes! Are you trying to kill yourself?” “Get off me!” I shoved her away with a strength I didn’t know I possessed. “Evelyn, since you two love each other so much, I’ll get out of your way. For good.” With those words, I turned and threw myself from the cliff, my body swallowed by the sea of clouds below.

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