Author: Momo Chan

I was probably a strong contender for the most *dutiful* fiancée of the year. I’d chased Julian Reed for eight years, thinking I was starring in some inspirational drama, finally melting that icy man’s heart. The proposal, the engagement – it was all as grand as a fairy tale. Until the eve of our wedding, as I sat surrounded by mountains of invitations, dreaming of our future. Then he came to tell me, for the sake of his first love: “I want to have a child with her, through surrogacy. It won’t affect our wedding.” Oh. So the iceberg wasn’t incapable of melting; it was just that the eternal spring in his heart was never meant for me. And my eight years of devotion? Just a convenient, understanding backup option when he wasn’t busy fulfilling his ‘responsibilities’. [Skylar, I’m going to have a child with Valerie.] Julian’s voice was as cool and detached as ever, devoid of any warmth. I thought I’d misheard him. I paused, my hands still on the wedding invitations I was sorting, and looked up at the man I’d loved for eight long years. “What did you say?” Julian sat casually on the sofa opposite me, as if we were discussing what to have for dinner. “Professor Evans is critically ill. His only wish is to see Valerie have her own child. I promised him I’d look after Valerie for life.” He paused, then added, “It’s just fulfilling a responsibility. We’ll use my sperm and her eggs, find a surrogate. There won’t be any actual relationship between us, and the wedding will proceed as planned.” Absurd! My ears rang with the sheer audacity. A month before our wedding, my fiancé wanted to have a baby with another woman. And I? I was supposed to be *understanding*, *magnanimous*. “Julian, have you lost your mind?” My voice trembled uncontrollably. “I’m perfectly lucid.” Julian frowned, seemingly displeased by my strong reaction. “Skylar, I always thought you were sensible. This is just to grant a dying old man’s wish.” Sensible. Right. From university onwards, I’d followed him around like a tireless ray of sunshine. He was always that iceberg, distant and aloof. Everyone said I was terrifyingly passionate, but only I knew that if I didn’t initiate, there wouldn’t be a single spark between us. Eight years. I’d seen his back more often than his face. I thought I’d finally warmed this stone. He’d proposed, given me a grand engagement party, making me believe I was the happiest woman in the world. Turns out, it was all just *my* belief. “So, in your mind, my feelings, our marriage—they’re less important than your so-called ‘responsibility’?” My eyes welled up, my voice thick with tears. Julian’s phone screen lit up. He glanced at it, his expression immediately turning impatient, and stood up from the sofa. “I have an emergency. You should just calm down for a bit.” He grabbed his jacket, not even sparing me another look, and headed straight for the door. Always like this. When I needed him most, he always had something more important, always left me alone. I watched his resolute back, my heart sinking deeper into an icy abyss. The door clicked shut, cutting off all sound. I was left alone in the living room, with a table full of invitations. Just then, my phone buzzed. It was a SnapChat message from Valerie Evans. A photo. The background was the Reproductive Medicine Center at the hospital. Julian was tilting his head, listening intently to a doctor in a white coat. And Valerie sat right beside him, a faint, almost imperceptible smile playing on her lips. Below the photo, a caption: [Julian said to stop making a fuss, important matters come first.] Important matters. So, his “emergency” was accompanying another woman to a fertility consultation. A suffocating pain instantly seized me. I clutched my chest, gasping for air. But it felt like the air in my lungs was getting thinner and thinner. I rushed into the bathroom, looking at myself in the mirror. Pale face, swollen red eyes, haggard and unrecognizable for love. These eight years, like a long, unrealistic dream. Now, the dream was over. I looked at my pathetic reflection and suddenly laughed. Tears still clung to my eyelashes, but the smile held a chilling, bone-deep coldness. I went back to the living room, picked up my phone, opened my Ins account, and posted a single line: [Wedding date unchanged, groom TBD. Inquiries welcome via DM.] The comments section exploded instantly. [??? Skylar, did you get hacked?!] [OMG, going all out? Does Dr. Reed know?] [Count me in! Groom Candidate #1 reporting for duty!] Seeing my friends’ joking replies, I pulled at the corners of my mouth, but couldn’t manage a smile. My phone rang abruptly. It was a number I’d almost forgotten. Caller ID: My Arch-Nemesis. I paused, then remembered who it was. Asher Vance. We grew up together, rivaling each other since childhood. Not long ago, when I announced my engagement, everyone sent congratulations. Only he commented something baffling: [Are you sure you want to marry him?] At the time, I just thought he was crazy, sent a “buzz off,” and ignored him. The phone kept ringing insistently. I swiped to answer, my voice still a little hoarse: “What do you want?” A two-second silence on the other end, then Asher’s leisurely, yet somewhat serious voice came through. “Me. The groom’s spot. Consider me?” My grip tightened on the phone, my mind blank for a moment. But quickly, I calmed down. The Vance and Dawson families were old acquaintances, similar in status, and knew each other inside and out. Asher might have a smart mouth, but his character and family background were impeccable. Instead of marrying a man whose heart belonged to someone else, why not choose someone who could at least make me feel at ease? If it’s already broken, why not smash it completely? “Alright.” I heard myself say, calmly. Asher on the other end seemed stunned too, taking a few seconds to confirm: “You… you’re serious?” “What else?” I retorted. “Do you have any conditions?” “Conditions?” Asher chuckled softly. “First, change my contact name from ‘My Arch-Nemesis’ to ‘My Dearest’.” I didn’t say anything. “And,” His voice suddenly turned serious. “I’m not messing around with you. I want a real marital relationship. Are you sure you’ve thought this through?” A real marital relationship. I thought sarcastically, *I was with Julian for eight years, and we never became a real family.* “I’ve thought it through.” I answered crisply. “Give me half a month. I need to sort some things out.” “Deal.” After hanging up, I immediately opened Asher’s contact and changed the name to [My Dearest]. Looking at those two words, a thrill of vindictive pleasure rose from deep inside, bringing a flicker of warmth to my icy body. Julian, you’re having a baby with another woman behind my back. Fine, I’ll switch grooms behind yours. 2. Julian didn’t come back for the next few days. I didn’t call him to ask either. I just quietly, one by one, contacted the friends to whom I’d sent invitations, asking them to send them back or simply destroy them. My best friend, Chloe, was shocked on the phone: “What’s wrong, Skylar? Did you two fight? Don’t be impulsive!” My voice betrayed no emotion: “No fight. Just a change of groom.” There was a long silence on the other end, then Chloe’s dry laugh: “Alright, alright, I know you two are just playing games again. Dr. Reed is such an ice cube, only you, his little ray of sunshine, can melt him. No one else could.” No one believed me. Everyone thought my love for Julian was a given, indestructible. I hung up, a bitter taste in my mouth. It turns out, in this relationship, I was the only constant. I decided to prove it with action. When Julian finally returned, it was three days later. He looked exhausted, faint dark circles under his eyes; he clearly hadn’t rested well. He took off his jacket and tossed it onto the sofa. Seeing me sitting on the living room carpet, staring blankly, his first words mirrored my actions over the past few days. “Skylar, retrieve all the invitations.” He paused, his voice hoarse: “Professor Evans is critically ill; I need to be by his side during this time to honor his final days. Let’s postpone our wedding.” After saying it, he seemed ready for a fierce argument. However, the anticipated crying and questioning didn’t happen. I merely looked up, calmly met his gaze, and softly said: “Understood. My condolences.” This overly “sensible” attitude inexplicably startled Julian. He felt something was off, but days of exhaustion left him no time for deep thought. “You should come with me to the hospital this afternoon to see Professor Evans.” He offered the invitation. I nodded: “Okay.” Out of politeness, I should go. In the hospital corridor outside the ward, the smell of disinfectant was thick and suffocating. The moment Valerie Evans saw Julian, she latched onto him like he was her pillar of strength. Her tears gushed, and her body went limp, collapsing into his arms. Julian, almost instinctively, lunged forward, catching her steadily in his embrace. He bent his head, comforting the sobbing woman, and without looking up, said to me behind him: “You go in first. Valerie isn’t doing well; I’ll stay with her for a bit.” Their posture was so intimate, as if they were the couple. I watched the scene, my heart strangely calm. I didn’t even rush forward and tear her away from him, like I used to. I simply glanced at them, then turned, and quietly pushed open the door to a family waiting room. I was completely different from the crying, dramatic person I used to be. 3. Julian felt a flicker of surprise at my composure, but Valerie’s trembling in his arms quickly pulled his attention back. I visited Professor Evans alone in his hospital bed and then offered my condolences to Mrs. Evans. Mrs. Evans held my hand, her eyes red, conveying both gratitude and apology. “Skylar, you’ve really been wronged. The wedding trouble is all our fault.” I shook my head, indicating understanding. Mrs. Evans sighed and began to explain for Julian: “Julian, you see how he’s so cold and distant on the outside, but he truly cares for you. He used to mention you casually to us, saying what silly things you’d done, how you smiled like a silly ray of sunshine. He loved you without even realizing it; he just wasn’t good at expressing himself.” Loved without realizing it? Hearing those words, I found them incredibly ironic. If he truly loved me, why did I always feel ignored? Why did his turning back always outweigh his staying embrace? Why would he, for another woman, ask me to postpone our wedding, and even contemplate having a child with someone else? I was certain that the moment Julian agreed to surrogacy, everything had already come to an end. These belated declarations of love felt ridiculously cheap. Soon after, Professor Evans passed away. At the memorial service, Julian, as his most accomplished protégé, stayed by Valerie’s side throughout, acting almost like a de facto family member. When the ceremony concluded, it was pouring rain outside. Julian drove up and stopped in front of me. The car window lowered. Valerie sat in the passenger seat, and a sorrowful Mrs. Evans was in the back. “Get in.” He said it simply. I was about to open the back door when Valerie in the passenger seat suddenly burst into tears, sobbing as she pleaded with Julian: “Julian, I just want you to take Mom and me to the cemetery to be with Dad. Can’t *she* just call a ride herself?” Her words were sharp and malicious. Even Mrs. Evans in the back frowned, finding her daughter’s behavior disrespectful. Julian, however, fell silent. He glanced at Valerie’s tear-reddened eyes, then at me, standing silently outside the window. Ultimately, he chose to appease Valerie. He said to me: “I’ll come back for you later.” With that, he stepped on the gas, and the black sedan sped away into the rain. I was left standing alone, the icy rain pelting my face. I had anticipated this outcome, and there wasn’t even a hint of sadness on my face. I waited under the eaves of the funeral home for a full three hours. My phone screen remained dark. I knew he wasn’t coming. The funeral home was in a remote location, and I couldn’t find a ride. I had no choice but to walk along the highway in the torrential rain. The cold rain soaked through my expensive black dress, leaving me drenched and miserable. It took me nearly two hours of walking to reach the outskirts of the city where I could finally hail a taxi. By the time I returned to that so-called home, it was late into the night. 4. That night, I came down with a high fever. Julian didn’t return all night. I was delirious with fever, my bones felt like they’d been disassembled and reassembled; I didn’t even have the strength to grab my phone and dial 91

In the end, driven by a primal instinct to survive, I struggled to find some fever reducers in the medicine cabinet. I haphazardly swallowed a few pills, then drifted into a deep, feverish sleep. A whole day and night passed. When I woke up again, the fever had finally broken, but I was utterly drained of all strength. Julian returned at that very moment. He didn’t mention abandoning me at the funeral home entrance two days prior, acting as if it had never happened. He walked straight into the walk-in closet and began packing a bag. “Valerie’s in a bad way. I need to go stay with her for a few days.” He explained as he packed. He didn’t even notice my pale face or my weakened state. He just left me with a dismissive “Call me if you need anything” and rushed out again. I lay in bed, thinking sarcastically: *What’s the point of calling?* In his mind, my problems probably never counted as “anything.” Julian didn’t return for the next few days. However, through Valerie Evans’s Ins account, I passively learned all of his whereabouts. Today, he accompanied her to a calming art exhibition. Tomorrow, he walked with her by the river, the evening breeze rustling through her long hair. The day after, she was sick, and he sat by her bedside, patiently feeding her medicine. Every photo radiated meticulous care and constant companionship. I was already numb to all of this. After I recovered, the first thing I did was resign from my job. My colleagues were puzzled by my sudden decision to leave Portwood and return to my hometown. Someone subconsciously asked: “So, if you leave, what about Dr. Reed?” It was then I realized that, in everyone’s eyes, my life seemed to revolve around Julian. I smiled and replied: “It’s not a long-distance relationship. It’s… we won’t be seeing each other again.” After packing up my things at the office, I returned home carrying a cardboard box. As I opened the door, I ran right into Julian and Valerie in the living room. Julian saw the box in my arms and frowned, questioning: “What’s with the box?” “Oh, the company’s moving inventory. Just some personal items I’m taking home first.” I lied without batting an eye. Valerie interjected at just the right moment. She walked up to me, putting on a fragile, innocent expression. “Skylar, I’m so sorry. About the surrogacy thing… I was thoughtless. Now that Dad’s gone, it’s not needed anymore. Nothing happened between Julian and me, so please don’t take it to heart.” Her words sounded like an apology, but they were really a boast and a way to clear her name. I saw through her hypocrisy but was too tired to call her out. I just nodded. After I went to my room, I realized I’d left my phone on the living room sofa. Just as I was about to go retrieve it, the bedroom door was abruptly pushed open. Julian burst in, holding my phone, his face dark. Those usually indifferent eyes were now fixated on me, his voice filled with suppressed fury. He thrust the phone screen in front of me and demanded, word by word: “Who is this ‘My Dearest’ in your phone?” 5. I looked at Julian’s angry face and found it incredibly ironic. This was the first time I’d ever seen him jealous over me. I remembered the past, how I’d also painstakingly tried similar tactics, asking male friends to call me to try and provoke even a flicker of concern from him. But each time, he’d been completely unresponsive, as cold as ice. Now, that I was actually leaving, he finally learned to be jealous. It was all too late. Valerie had followed him and, seeing the tense atmosphere, immediately stepped forward to smooth things over, explaining proactively: “Oh, Julian, you’ve misunderstood! It must be Skylar’s best friend! We girls love giving our besties those kind of affectionate nicknames!” I was too tired to correct her. Exhausted, I simply went along with Valerie’s words, tacitly accepting her explanation. Julian’s expression softened slightly, but he still looked upset. I took my phone back, turned, and went into my room, closing the door. I redialed the number. The moment the call connected, Asher’s leisurely voice came through. He asked a string of trivial questions about the weather in Portwood today, and if I’d eaten. I grew a little impatient: “Asher, what exactly do you want to say?” Just as I was about to hang up, Asher finally asked the core question. His voice was no longer flippant; instead, it carried a hint of vulnerability. “I just wanted to ask you if you’ve had any regrets. Are you *really* going to change grooms?” He knew how much I used to love Julian—a love that was public, reckless. That love was a heavy stone weighing on his heart. I fell silent. Yes, my past love was tumultuous, known to the whole world. I chuckled self-deprecatingly, then answered with a firm voice: “I… don’t love him anymore.” “Asher, don’t worry.” I added, “I said I’d switch, and I won’t regret it because of Julian.” 6. I hung up the phone and stepped out of the room. Julian was still standing in the living room, his face still grim. He looked at me and said: “Next time, don’t use such easily misunderstood nicknames for your friends.” “Hmm,” I mumbled, giving him a perfunctory nod. Seeing me relent, Julian’s expression finally improved. Valerie, standing nearby, observed this scene. Her eyes flickered, and her expression grew complex. She realized that Julian still harbored a strong possessiveness towards me. So Valerie had a new idea. She proactively suggested: “Julian, Skylar, we haven’t had a meal together in ages. How about we all go see a movie tonight?” She wanted to use this opportunity to flaunt Julian’s affection for her in front of me. My first instinct was to refuse. But Valerie immediately turned to Julian, putting on an aggrieved look. Her eyes were red, as if I was still angry at her for what had happened before. Julian instantly felt a pang of pity and shot me a disapproving look, as if he were scolding me for being childish. I scoffed internally, but ultimately nodded. I was forced to go along. Valerie chose a high-end Japanese restaurant. Julian knew perfectly well that I was allergic to raw food and that it always upset my stomach. Yet, because Valerie said, “This restaurant is especially delicious,” he agreed without hesitation. At the dinner table, Julian meticulously picked out the salmon bones for Valerie, his movements gentle and focused. In front of me, there was only a single glass of warm water the entire time. Valerie even feigned confusion and asked me: “Skylar, why aren’t you eating? Is it not to your taste?” I couldn’t be bothered to respond. After dinner, Valerie chose a horror movie. In the dark cinema, she constantly initiated physical contact with Julian. Every time a scary scene appeared, she would shriek and immediately bury herself in his arms. Julian instinctively wanted to push her away, but seeing her tear-reddened eyes, he remembered his mentor’s dying wishes. He eventually relented, letting her lean against him. He subconsciously glanced at me sitting beside him and saw that I was watching them. My gaze was calm, completely unfazed, as if I were watching a play that had nothing to do with me. He wanted to say something, to explain. But I had already turned my head, continuing to watch the movie. A strange displeasure rose in Julian’s heart, but he still whispered comforting words to Valerie in his arms. Hearing his gentle reassurances, a faint, cold laugh escaped my lips. 7. As the day of my departure from Portwood drew closer, I decided to say a proper farewell to my friends. I messaged my group chat, suggesting we meet up. Chloe proposed we just do it at the alumni gathering in a few days, and everyone agreed. The gathering was set at a lively karaoke bar. Inside the private room, amidst the booming music, I leaned into Chloe’s ear and confessed: “I’m going home to get married in a couple of days.” Chloe’s eyes widened in shock. It took her a while to find her voice: “You were serious that day?!” “Serious,” I said with a smile, then added, “You’re all welcome to my wedding.” My friends gathered around, anxiously asking questions. “What about Julian? Does he know?” Just then, the private room door opened. Julian’s tall figure appeared in the doorway. He seemed to have just come from a business dinner, still smelling of alcohol. But he had heard the last question and frowned, asking: “Know what?” The atmosphere in the private room instantly became awkward. Chloe quickly covered it up, pulling over our friend Lena, who was good at palm reading, and clamoring to play a fortune-telling game. She forcibly changed the subject. “Come on, come on! Let’s get our marriage fortunes told!” A delicate wooden box was pushed in front of me. I casually drew a slip of paper and opened it. It read: “The flower of obsession will eventually wither, while the unheeded tree will flourish.” I looked at the words, my expression slightly stunned. *How true.* My obsession with Julian was finally about to fade. And this decision I made, the one I hadn’t truly believed in, might actually lead me to a new beginning. Unaware, the other classmates cheered, encouraging Julian to draw one too. He casually drew a slip and opened it. The few who leaned in to look instantly fell silent. The slip starkly read: “All for nothing.” A classmate immediately protested: “How is that possible! Everyone knows Dr. Reed and our Skylar have a stable relationship and are about to get married!” Those words made my knowing friends even more uncomfortable, but the scene was quickly swallowed by new laughter and chatter. Only Julian, staring at the slip of paper, looked thoughtful. Just then, his phone rang. Julian answered, listened for a few moments, and his expression suddenly changed drastically. He abruptly stood up, grabbing my wrist with a never-before-seen urgency and anxiety. “You’re coming to the hospital with me!” 8. Julian’s face was anxious, and he drove like a madman, taking me directly to the hospital rooftop. The evening wind was biting, chilling me to the bone. On the edge of the rooftop, an agitated man held a dagger tightly against Valerie Evans’s tear-streaked neck. The man was a disgruntled patient’s relative, harboring resentment, and had been tracking Julian. He’d mistakenly taken Valerie, who had been inseparable from Julian lately, for his girlfriend. “Julian Reed! You owe me my wife’s life!” The man roared, the cold gleam of the dagger flickering at Valerie’s throat. Julian saw Valerie crying and pleading for his help, his eyes instantly turning bloodshot. The next second. Julian grabbed my arm. A powerful force. He shoved me forward. I stumbled. The cold blade was right in front of my eyes. My back burned. It was the warmth of his hand, still lingering. Julian roared at the assailant: “Take her! She’s my fiancée!” The assailant froze. Then, a twisted,狂喜 grin spread across his face. “Oh? So this is the main course?” He pointed the knife at me, then at his feet. “Alright, you come over here.” The assailant laughed. The blade pressed into Valerie’s neck, drawing a thin line of blood. He stared at me as if I were a lifeless object. My ears filled with a roaring silence; I couldn’t draw a single breath as the cold wind rushed into my lungs. My mind went blank, all the blood in my veins seemed to freeze. I finally understood why Julian had so urgently dragged me from the alumni gathering: he was using me to exchange for Valerie’s life. The assailant fell for it and was about to make the exchange. Just at this critical moment, the police, who had been lying in wait, rushed out and subdued the assailant in one swift move. Valerie was safe. Julian immediately rushed to her, holding her tightly and comforting her nonstop. Valerie sobbed hysterically in his arms. It wasn’t until he confirmed Valerie was unharmed and her emotions had stabilized that Julian belatedly remembered me, the one he had pushed away. He walked towards me, his heart giving a sudden lurch, and explained: “Skylar, don’t be afraid. That was just a tactic to distract the assailant. Everything was under my control.” A tactic? I didn’t argue. Whether it was true or false no longer mattered. What mattered was that in a moment of life and death, he had unhesitatingly chosen to sacrifice me. In that moment, I looked at the man before me as if he were a complete stranger. The question that had lingered in my mind for so long finally had its answer. I truly, deeply regretted it. Regretted loving him. Over the next few days, Julian stayed by Valerie’s side, citing her need for companionship due to shock, completely forgetting that I, too, had been pushed towards a deadly blade. I no longer felt sad. My heart had already died. I returned to that so-called home and began calmly clearing out all items related to Julian. The wedding photo they had once cherished, I personally set alight, watching it turn to ash in the sink. All the matching toothbrushes, mugs, towels, and slippers were meticulously, one by one, tossed into a trash bag. I was going to cleanse this man from my world, completely and utterly. 9. I began to pack my own luggage. I had moved into this house with a heart full of joy, filling every corner with my presence, piece by piece. I naively thought that this would be enough to hold Julian’s heart. Now, it seemed utterly futile. When Julian came home, he found me folding clothes into a suitcase. He walked over proactively and asked: “Going on a business trip?” I had my back to him, a sarcastic curve to my lips, and readily admitted: “Yes, the company arranged it. Early flight tomorrow.” Julian didn’t think much of it. Perhaps out of guilt from what happened at the hospital, he uncharacteristically took the initiative to cook dinner. After dinner, he produced an exquisite gift box and handed it to me. “I’m sorry about the hospital incident.” Inside the box was an expensive fountain pen. I looked at the pen, my heart completely unmoved. I knew that all his unusual behavior stemmed from guilt, not love. Julian then said: “Valerie’s been in low spirits lately. I want to take a few days off to spend more time with her.” “As you wish,” my tone was as flat as if discussing the weather. Julian seemed pleased with my “understanding” response. He stepped forward and, uncharacteristically, hugged me from behind, resting his chin on the top of my head. “Once Valerie gets through this, I’ll make it up to you properly.” He promised. I didn’t respond. I knew, deep down, that there was no future between us anymore. The next morning, Julian bought breakfast and even offered to drive me to the airport. However, halfway through breakfast, his phone rang. No need to guess; it was Valerie. After hanging up, he once again said the phrase I’d heard countless times: “Skylar, I have an urgent matter that’s come up. I can’t drive you.” He told me to let him know when I returned, and he’d pick me up. With that, he turned and hurriedly left. I watched his resolute retreating back, a sight I’d seen countless times. This time, it was the last. I whispered softly: “Julian, I’m not coming back.” I took one last look around the house that held six years of my youth and love. On the living room table, I left a note. It contained only one line: “Julian, we’re over. I’m going home to get married.” Having done all that, I pulled my suitcase and walked out the door without a single ounce of regret. I hailed a taxi to the airport, resolute in my decision. It was a complete farewell to my past.

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Everyone at school knew I was Jax Anderson’s biggest admirer. I’d bring him breakfast, take notes for him. Once, when he sprained his ankle playing basketball, I even knelt down to tie his shoelaces. Until that day on the rooftop, when I heard him say: “Lily Hayes? She’s clingy as hell, impossible to shake off.” “When it’s time to apply for college, I’ll tell her I’m applying to A College. She’ll definitely enthusiastically follow suit.” “Then, Serena Chen and I can just go to C College.” His friend asked, “You’re just going to keep leading her on?” He sighed, “What else can I do? She’s a sheltered little flower, I’m afraid she can’t handle the shock.” But later, he cried and told me, “You used to love clinging to me so much…” 0 I came to bring Jax breakfast, but I froze on the stairwell. Lately, Jax had been pushing me to tutor him, saying he wanted to apply to A College. Turns out, it was just a lie to get rid of me. One of his friends pressed him, curious: “What if Lily doesn’t apply to A College?” Jax scoffed, casually shrugging: “Then she definitely won’t go to C College. She hates the cold, she’d never go up North.” “Besides, as long as I want to go to A College, she’ll go. I know her too well.” “Since we were kids, she’s always insisted on going to the same school, the same class as me, terrified of being far from me.” The whole group laughed. Someone nudged Jax, winking: “Jax, seriously, who doesn’t see how Lily feels about you? I bet if you go to C College this time, she’ll end up crying and begging to transfer.” Jax sighed, “She’s a sheltered little flower, she’s never faced any real setbacks. Keep your traps shut, okay? I want a few more quiet days before the college application results come out.” Another friend asked curiously, “So, when are you planning to tell Serena how you feel, Jax?” Jax’s lips curved into an unconscious smile: “She said she’d agree to be my girlfriend if I get into C College.” Another friend couldn’t help but exclaim, “Wow, how romantic! Studying so hard for the school’s beauty queen?” Jax laughed, “It’s youth, you gotta be crazy for love at least once.” … I don’t know how long I stood there. My ears buzzed, and my heart ached so bad I could barely breathe. I couldn’t bear to listen anymore, so I dragged my heavy feet away. On the way back to class, Jax’s words kept replaying in my mind. It made me think of when I was ten. A girl in our class told me, “Jax wants me to secretly tell you he’ll be waiting for you at our old spot after school. He has something important to tell you, and you have to go alone. He said it’s a big surprise, so don’t tell anyone!” I went, full of expectation. I waited there like an idiot for a long, long time. Jax never showed up, not until it got dark and started to rain. I was so cold and scared of the dark. In the end, I just ran home crying. Later, that girl mocked me in class, “See? She thought Jax only played with her. So easy to fool!” Jax got really angry at a girl for the first time then. He promised me, seriously and solemnly, “Lily, I’ll never lie to you like that again. I’ll always keep my promises. If it’s really something important, I’ll tell you to your face.” But now, it seemed like that promise didn’t mean anything anymore. If he liked someone else, he could have just told me directly. I wasn’t that fragile. Why did he have to lie to me like this? 0

Thinking about it, Jax really had changed a lot. When he was little, he was vibrant and cheerful, a ray of sunshine. Then his parents frequently fought, eventually divorcing. Because of it, his personality grew more rebellious, and he gradually stopped wanting to go home. I always thought he was just too cold, that’s why he put up a prickly front. Coincidentally, my home had so much warmth, I could spare some for him. He always used to protect me when we were little. Now it was my turn to stick by him like a tiny firefly. So, after that, When he skipped class, I’d take notes for him. When he fell and got hurt playing basketball, I’d tie his shoelaces. He’d glare at me, tell me to mind my own business, and throw the notes I handed him back. But the next day, those notes would always appear deep inside his backpack. And he’d eat every bite of the breakfast I brought him. After a while, people started joking around him, saying I was his biggest fan. That time, Jax got into a fight with them right in front of the whole class. Later, those guys disappeared, and I never saw them again. I thought that Jax and I, after more than ten years as best friends, were special. But after Serena Chen showed up. Everything changed. 0

Serena transferred in during our sophomore year and wasn’t in our class. Not only was she beautiful, but she quickly snatched the top spot in our grade. One day after school, some sketchy guys cornered her in an alley. Jax couldn’t stand seeing someone stronger bullying the weak, so he stepped in to help and ended up with a cut on his face. From then on, Serena started appearing in front of Jax all the time. Claiming to ‘repay his kindness,’ she’d bring him breakfast, get him water, and even help him hide from teachers when he skipped class. At first, Jax said, “That new girl is seriously annoying. I just helped her out, who knew I couldn’t get rid of her.” But then, his attitude slowly shifted from annoyance to acceptance. He not only stopped rejecting Serena’s presence but would also make excuses about having things to do, no longer walking home with me. I knew he was walking Serena home. But every time I asked, he’d just say, “You don’t understand, she has a lot of family drama, it’s pretty sad. I just want to help her.” As if afraid I’d press further, he’d add, with his usual impatience, “Stop worrying about nothing, just take care of yourself.” Jax, who was usually so aloof, Would hand her his jacket when it got cold. Would specifically buy her favorite ice cream outside of school. He even worried about her getting bullied and wanted to go to the same college as her. But originally, that was our agreement. 0

On the day of our middle school graduation. I looked at the sparkling stars above and asked Jax, who was next to me, “Have you thought about what you want to do later?” Jax shook his head, a hint of helplessness on his face: “Do I even need to think about it? My dad only has me as a son, so I’ll definitely study something related and manage his company after graduation.” I paused, then spoke: “So, after we graduate high school, will we go our separate ways?” Jax looked into the distance, a lost expression in his eyes: “Probably.” An evening breeze blew by, and hearing that, I felt a strange sense of sadness. Jax looked at me, suddenly flustered. “Hey, don’t cry. You’re that sad to leave me?” He said, while clumsily wiping my tears away. “Wherever you want to go for college, I’ll take the entrance exam with you.” My eyes suddenly lit up. “Really? Then I want to go to A College.” “Tsk, your mood changed so fast.” Jax ruffled my hair, smiling lazily, “A College, huh? Looks like I’ll have to study hard.” “You cry so easily. What if you go somewhere so far away alone and get bullied and start crying again?” Maybe it was just a joke to comfort me back then, but I always remembered it. In high school, his grades were always bad, and I was secretly worried, but he didn’t react at all. Until the end of the second semester of junior year, when he anxiously pulled me aside to tutor him. I thought he remembered our old agreement. Now I realize I was mistaken. I’ve always followed behind him since childhood, but I started understanding him less and less. After a while, it just got tiring. All gatherings eventually end. Perhaps, it’s time for us to go our separate ways. 0

Jax sent another little note, asking me to leave first today. I was used to it, so I ignored him. That evening, Jax came to my house for tutoring, carrying a strawberry-flavored ice cream. Actually, strawberry was my least favorite flavor. But I don’t know when, Jax started buying this flavor every time. Now I realize it’s Serena’s favorite. Perhaps all the good things I received from Jax were just casual acts he did for Serena. A dense, aching pain spread from my heart. I said coldly, “You should go back. Don’t come to me for tutoring anymore.” It was the first time I’d ever refused him. As soon as the words left my mouth, my throat tightened. Because I liked him, I couldn’t accept his deception. I couldn’t pretend nothing had happened and foolishly stay by his side. Jax raised an eyebrow slightly and asked, “Were you mad because I didn’t walk home with you this afternoon?” He ruffled my hair, “I know you’re clingy, but you have to let me have my own things too.” I shook my head, “Exams are coming up soon, and my schedule is really tight. I don’t have time to tutor you.” “You can find a tutor, or, ask Serena to help you.” Serena always studied hard, consistently ranking at the top of her class, so she’d probably be very willing to help Jax. Jax quickly rejected the suggestion. “No.” “Her family has very high expectations for her; she needs to work hard to get first place. She doesn’t have time to tutor me.” “You know my basics, so you tutoring me is more suitable.” I suddenly couldn’t speak. My nose stung, and my eyes felt hot. Right. One was a good student, struggling but resilient. The other was a clingy follower who always trailed behind him. Jax didn’t want to hold Serena back; she needed to strive for her own future. And me, with my good family background and loving home, was apparently born to make concessions, always revolving around him, Jax. Seeing that I remained silent, his tone softened, a hint of pleading in his voice: “Didn’t you always want us to go to the same college? So you have to be responsible for me.” So he still remembered our agreement. I looked at that familiar face and suddenly found it utterly strange. I held back my tears, staring into his eyes, and asked each word distinctly, “Are you really planning to go to the same college as me?” Time seemed to freeze for a few seconds. Then, he smiled guiltily and changed the subject: “Alright, Lily, stop messing around.” “I’ll walk home with you tomorrow…” Before he could finish, I slammed the door shut and leaned weakly against it. A bitter feeling welled up inside me, unstoppable. The tears could no longer be held back, falling one by one. 0

I stopped caring about anything related to Jax and threw myself into studying. At first, Jax would still try to talk to me. But after I ignored him too many times, he stopped trying. One day, I overheard his friend ask: “Jax, why is your childhood friend so quiet these past few days? Did you two fight?” Jax shrugged it off, “Who knows? She can’t stand me getting close to other girls, so she’s throwing a tantrum.” “Just keep my distance for a few days, and I’ll get some peace.” Actually, I didn’t have to follow him. These past few days, walking to and from school alone, I had much more free time, and things around me felt simpler. Being alone wasn’t as scary as I imagined; instead, it made me understand what I truly wanted. When the midterm exam results came out, I got first place in my grade. As I was organizing my错题本 (error notebook), Jax suddenly approached me. He had a dark look on his face, striding up to my desk and slamming his hand on my notebook, his voice chilling: “Lily Hayes, was getting first place this time on purpose?” Startled by the sudden commotion, I looked up at him, a bit confused. “You know Serena needed this first place,” he said, looking down at me. When he mentioned Serena, I remembered Jax saying before that she was very pathetic. If she didn’t get first place, she’d be beaten badly. But what was wrong with me working hard and getting first place myself? I retorted, “What does that have to do with me?” “Don’t you have any sympathy? If you’d just gotten one less multiple-choice question right, she wouldn’t have been beaten.” He frowned, suddenly leaning closer, “I know you don’t like me being close to her, but there’s no need to target her like this!” I was just doing my own thing, and in his eyes, it had become targeting. It was break time, and there were other students in the classroom. His voice wasn’t quiet, and I could feel the eyes around me and hear the hushed whispers. A wave of injustice washed over me, and I heard my voice tremble: “I’m not targeting anyone! Exams are about skill, not about who’s more pathetic!” “Besides, that’s her family business.” I slowly stood up, looking directly into his angry eyes, “Why should my score pay for your sympathy? You have no right to morally judge me here.” My deskmate, Chloe, couldn’t help but speak up for me: “Exactly, Jax. You’re totally guilt-tripping her, aren’t you? You earn your own grades. Why should she just give it up? Just because Lily is nice to you, does that mean you can just walk all over her?” Jax glared coldly at Chloe. I had a bad feeling. “Jax!” A voice interrupted the standoff. It was Serena. She ran in, looking panicked, and stood in front of Jax. “Don’t fight with Lily because of me! It’s all my fault, I didn’t work hard enough, I didn’t score well enough…” She then looked at me, a look of apology on her face: “Lily, I’m so sorry, truly sorry… Please don’t be mad at Jax, he didn’t mean it, he’s just too worried about me…” I watched Serena tightly grip Jax’s wrist, then looked at Jax’s slightly softened brow. His eyes were filled with undisguised pity and protectiveness for Serena. They, one angrily accusing, the other kindly mediating, made it seem like I was the unreasonable outsider who needed to be tolerated. I bit back my tears, telling myself not to cry. In that moment, something deep inside my heart shattered completely. 0 To prevent irrelevant people from disturbing my thoughts, I immersed myself in a sea of practice questions, losing track of time. When I looked up again, the classroom was empty. Ten minutes had passed since dismissal, and suddenly my stomach hurt, so I went to the restroom. As soon as I entered a stall, I heard Serena’s voice from outside. “My eyeshadow is almost rubbed off,” she chuckled. “Help me touch it up again.” “Jax really believes it?” her friend asked. “Of course. A rich kid desperate for attention like him totally falls for this stuff. Today, he even argued with Lily because of it.” The person asked again, “Aren’t you afraid of getting caught someday?” Serena smiled confidently: “As long as you don’t say anything and I don’t say anything, by the time he’s truly dependent on me, the truth won’t matter anymore.” I froze, my heart racing, and it took a long moment for me to react. Serena was no pathetic damsel in distress at all.

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I was the poorest student in the whole school, yet I disguised myself as the daughter of a top mogul. In my last life, Brittany, the queen bee, and her posse stripped me naked and recorded it. They used that video to force me to drop out, and I eventually died alone and homeless on the cold streets. After being reborn, I accidentally bound myself to a system that let me interact with future viewers. The bullet comments floating by were full of mockery—some called me vain, others said I deserved it, all waiting to see me hit rock bottom again. Until one comment popped up: 【She looks so pitiful. Big sis is sending a gift to cheer you up.】 A heavy gold bar instantly materialized in my hand. When Brittany and her crew cornered me again, sneering that everything I wore was fake, I just looked at the ten million dollars that had just landed in my bank account and smiled. Brittany and her group had me cornered at the end of the hallway, arms crossed, her chin held high like a swan. “Anya, those knock-offs you’re wearing actually look pretty decent,” Tiffany, one of her sidekicks, reached out to yank at the collar of my dress. I stepped back, dodging her hand. In front of me, translucent bullet comments scrolled wildly. 【Here we go! The showdown between our protagonist and the wicked villainess!】 【This Anya is such a faker. A poor girl from the wrong side of the tracks daring to compete with our Brittany for the Queen Bee title.】 【She’s getting what she deserves! Can’t wait to see her exposed in public!】 I ignored the noise, just glancing down at my phone. Just moments ago, a golden bullet comment had flashed across the screen. 【Don’t worry, I support you! Can’t stand how arrogant they are. Here’s ten million, go show them what you’re made of!】 Immediately after, a text notification from my bank popped up. Deposit: $10,000,000.00. Looking at that long string of zeros, the last bit of panic vanished from my heart, replaced by a cold, almost ruthless calm. In my last life, it was right here they stripped me, recorded me, forced me to drop out, and I ended up freezing to death under an overpass like a stray dog. My grandmother, my only living relative, eventually died consumed by endless humiliation and grief. It wasn’t until my life started over that I finally understood: I was nothing but a mere stepping stone in a story, meant to highlight the female lead Brittany’s pure kindness and innocence. My entire existence seemed to be about being utterly defeated by her, to showcase her perfection. I wasn’t going to stand for it. I sold the only dilapidated house I owned back in my hometown. With that money, I disguised myself as a wealthy heiress no one dared to mess with. Because I knew, in this world, the weaker you appear, the more people want to chew you up and spit you out. “What, scared?” Brittany’s smirk deepened when I didn’t speak. I lifted my head and smiled. Right in front of them, I pulled out my phone and dialed the police. “Hello, police? I’d like to report a crime. Someone at S University, on the third floor of the academic building, is publicly slandering me and seriously damaging my reputation.” Brittany and her cronies froze, as if they hadn’t expected me to do something like that. I looked at their dumbfounded faces and continued speaking into the phone: “Yes. And I suspect they stole my newly bought, limited edition diamond necklace, valued at three million dollars. Please hurry.” Hanging up, I tucked my phone back into my pocket and looked at the ashen-faced Brittany. “Now, we wait for the police to handle this.”

The police arrived quickly. Brittany and her friends completely panicked. Even though their families were wealthy, public defamation coupled with suspicion of theft was enough to leave a criminal record on their files. “I didn’t! You’re lying! When did I steal your necklace?!” Tiffany shrieked. I looked at her coldly. “I’m just suspecting. Whether you did or not, we’ll know after the police search.” Brittany tried to maintain her dignity as a member of high society, but her voice was already trembling. “Anya, don’t take it too far! We were just joking around!” “Joking around?” I advanced on her, step by step, the hatred in my eyes practically overflowing. “Last life, that’s what you said too. You stripped me and filmed it, claiming it was just a joke. You forced me to drop out, caused my grandmother’s death—was that a joke too?” My voice wasn’t loud, but it pierced their hearts like an ice pick. Brittany’s face completely lost its color. She couldn’t understand why I was saying such strange things. But in front of my eyes, my words caused a surging wave of bullet comments. 【OMG? There’s backstory to this? She suffered that badly in her last life?】 【Is that true? Our protagonist would do such a thing? I don’t believe it!】 【Anyone can say anything without proof, she’s definitely making it up to get out of trouble!】 But there were also different voices. 【Why do I feel like she’s not lying… that hatred in her eyes, you can’t fake that.】 【If that’s true, that’s just heartbreaking.】 【Don’t cry, sweetie, I’m sending you a diamond. It’s even bigger than her three-million-dollar one!】 I felt my pocket grow heavy, a velvet box appearing inside. The police arrived and took all of us to the station. On the way, I received a SnapChat from my roommate, Chloe. “Anya, where are you? Are you still going to the designer showcase this weekend?” I replied: “Something came up, I’m at the police station.” There was silence for a few seconds, then a FaceTime call immediately came through. Her voice was full of anxiety: “What happened? Wait there, I’ll have my dad pull some strings right away!” Hanging up, I watched the street outside the car window blur past, my heart perfectly calm. This life, I wasn’t alone anymore. With the money from selling my house, I rented the most expensive apartment, bought the highest-quality designer dupes, and on the first day of school, I rented a Rolls-Royce, loudly establishing my persona as a rich heiress. My three roommates, Skylar, Chloe, and Bella, were all genuinely from high society. In my last life, I was too insecure to talk to them, and they treated me like I was invisible. When I was bullied, they just watched coldly. This life, I spoke their language and engaged with them on their terms. We talked about luxury brands, gossip, and guys. I even knew more about the new collections than they did, because I’d made studying them my homework. When they realized I had even better taste and was even “richer” than them, they naturally accepted me. That’s just human nature.

At the police station, Brittany’s parents arrived quickly. They immediately tried to use money and connections to smooth everything over. “Officer, it’s all a misunderstanding, just kids messing around,” Brittany’s father, a shrewd-looking businessman, handed over his business card. The police officer didn’t take it. I sat in my chair and spoke coldly. “It’s not a misunderstanding. They verbally abused me, and I demand that a case be opened. As for the necklace, I can drop that, but the defamation needs to be addressed.” Brittany’s mother glared, pointing at me. “You insolent little brat, don’t push your luck! Do you think I can’t make you lose your footing in S City?!” I pulled out my phone and started recording. “Officer, she’s threatening me.” The Xu family’s parents’ faces turned extremely ugly. Finally, with the intervention of a lawyer brought in by Chloe’s father, the matter was “satisfactorily” resolved. Brittany and her sidekicks had to post a public apology on the school forum and pay me $200,000 in emotional damages. Stepping out of the police station, Chloe was waiting for me in her G-Wagen. “Anya, get in! I’m taking you to get some good food to help you recover from today’s scare!” Skylar and Bella were also in the car. Seeing the exhaustion on my face, they immediately offered me water and snacks. “You scared us to death! That Brittany and her gang are just awful!” “Seriously, if they ever bother you again, tell us, we’ll help you get revenge!” I smiled, a corner of my heart warming slightly. “It’s fine now. Let’s go, eat.” That $200,000, plus the ten million from the bullet comment tips, and that diamond box, was my first capital to gain a foothold in this world. But it wasn’t enough. Far from enough. What I wanted was to trample Brittany and her people, along with the families behind them, under my feet. What I wanted was the absolute power to control my own destiny, even without the bullet comment system.

Back in the dorm, I took out the velvet box. Opening it, inside was a huge pink diamond, glittering dazzlingly under the light. My roommates gasped. “Holy crap! Anya, where did this come from? This must be worth millions!” I picked it up and casually examined it. “An elder gave it to me. I don’t really like it, the color’s too light.” I pushed the box toward Bella. “Bella, your skin is fair, this would look great on you. It’s yours.” Bella waved her hands frantically. “No, no! This is too expensive!” “Don’t be silly with me,” I insisted, pressing the box into her hand. “It’s just a trinket.” Finally, Bella couldn’t refuse me and accepted it. But she immediately transferred $500,000 to me. “Anya, you have to take this money! Otherwise, I can’t accept this diamond!” Looking at the extra $500,000 on my phone, my heart was unfazed. Money was just a tool. Winning people’s hearts, that was the real goal. Because of this incident, my roommates no longer doubted my “wealthy heiress” identity and became even closer to me. That night, Chloe shrieked, holding her phone. “The Freshman Queen competition has started! Anya, you have to enter!” Bella, another roommate, chimed in, “Yeah, bring glory to our dorm room 404!” My heart stirred. In my last life, I also signed up under their encouragement. But because my votes surpassed Brittany’s, it led to a series of retaliations. “What’s the prize for first place?” I asked. “A $10,000 prize! And you get to host the Freshman Welcome Gala, earn extra credit, and it helps you get into the student council!” Student council… subsidies, extra credit, and most importantly, it would make it easier for me to take time off to make money. I agreed. “Alright, I just started a small company, so I’m busy and often need to take time off.” I casually spun a small lie. My roommates, as expected, looked at me with envy. Skylar immediately grabbed her camera. “Come on, Anya, I’ll take your photo for the competition!” In the photo, I wore a simple white dress, my long, sleek hair cascading down to my waist. The dress’s cut perfectly accentuated my figure. As soon as the photo was uploaded, my vote count began to soar. Bullet comments appeared just in time. 【Oh my god, with that elegance and beauty, no wonder the male lead is so captivated.】 【She’s putting on such an act, too bad it’s all fake.】 【Am I the only one who feels sorry for her? It must be so exhausting to maintain this image all the time.】 【Big sis supports you, here’s a little something for you.】 Suddenly, I felt a weight in my palm. A solid gold heart-shaped charm appeared out of thin air in my hand. My mind went blank. Bullet comments… really turn into real objects. A bold plan gradually formed in my mind— I would continue to maintain my rich heiress persona in front of those wealthy kids, while simultaneously showcasing a vulnerable side to these bullet comment viewers who needed to protect me.

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On the third birthday of Julian’s son with his mistress, Serena, I finally located Chloe’s last leg bone. They celebrated at the upscale steakhouse, Chloe’s favorite restaurant when she was alive. Yet, none of them knew that Chloe’s heart, her corneal tissue, and her blood were all on their dinner table. As a medium, I refused to believe Chloe was a drug dealer. I vowed to hold a summoning ritual to uncover the truth of her death. Julian, upon hearing my plans, flew into a rage. He ordered his men to beat me senseless. “That bitch used my brother’s body to traffic drugs! How else are you going to defend her?!” It wasn’t until the largest drug trafficking cartel in Country D was completely dismantled, And the evidence Chloe left behind was made public, That Julian finally understood who she truly died for. “Ashley, look at me. I’ve hidden a lot of evidence in…” The woman in the video looked desperate and terrified, as if someone was chasing her. The next second, she was dragged off-screen by an unseen force. A chilling scream ripped through the air, mixing with the festive cheers from the party I was attending. After ten agonizing seconds, the screen went black. On a night meant for family reunions, my sister died alone in a foreign country. She was quickly labeled a drug dealer. And because I was at a Christmas party, I hadn’t even heard her last words clearly. I stared at the skeletal remains before me, pieces I’d spent three years painstakingly recovering. Gnawed by dogs, trampled by humans, charred by fire, and left to rot in sewer water. A sharp, suffocating pain twisted in my chest. “Julian, tell me the truth. Is it true that Chloe used Liam’s body to traffic drugs?” Julian stiffened, hearing his brother’s name. The next second, his eyes ignited with a furious rage. “Are you done yet? My brother is dead! Are you not satisfied until his soul is tormented, too?!” “You don’t mind mentioning that tramp? Well, it contaminates my ears!” It suddenly hit me: today was Chloe’s death anniversary, and Liam’s too. “I’m sorry. I just wanted to ask if I could go into Chloe’s old room, try to summon her spirit, and find out the truth of her unjust death…” “Chloe called me on FaceTime before she died. I suspect she was framed…” “Why don’t you just go to hell and ask her yourself?!” Julian, consumed by fury, slammed the phone down. Then, he forwarded the official police statement from back then, once again, right into my inbox. *Following an official investigation, it was determined that the suspect, Chloe Brooks, was a member of a drug trafficking organization operating out of Country D. She was identified as using the bodies of deceased individuals, including Liam Si, to conceal and transport drugs, and died on September 16th during a transaction with another cartel.* My heart clenched. I hesitated. But then, Samuel, my Master, sent me a photo of a bracelet. That object carried a trace of dark energy, one of Chloe’s belongings. If an item bore such energy, it meant its deceased owner died with a grievance. I understood that much. “Miss tonight, and you’ll have to wait until next year’s anniversary.” Samuel’s words jolted me awake. I gathered Chloe’s remains, grabbed my ritual tools, and rushed to the Si mansion. “Ashley! Are you losing your mind?!” “Ashley! You’ve really crossed the line!” Julian slapped me, then he and his bodyguards moved in. “Chloe was a deeply sinful drug dealer!” “Five years ago, she used my brother’s body to traffic drugs. How can you possibly defend her?” In the chaos, Chloe’s bones scattered across the floor. I quickly covered them with my body to shield them from being trampled. “She wasn’t! My sister wasn’t!” My voice was hoarse with tears as I painfully gathered the scattered bones. “My family has served in federal law enforcement for three generations, fighting drug crime. Chloe lived a life on the run with Grandma Joyce as a child, always hiding, always on edge. She hated drug dealers more than anyone!” “She couldn’t have trafficked drugs!” It was precisely because of this family background that Chloe had been subjected to constant threats and harassment from abroad throughout her life, even having strangers show up at her door. *Splash.* A bucket of filthy garbage was dumped on me. “Miss Brooks, please stay away from us, the victims’ family.” “Open your eyes and see the truth!” Serena pulled out a photo of a ghastly white face. The corpse had been cut open down the middle, the frozen flesh unnaturally pale. Its organs were gone, God knows where.

Only a terrifying, hollow shell remained. I froze, stunned. It was a photo of a tragically murdered fifteen-year-old Liam. Serena’s voice was cold and filled with disgust as she pressed me. “Are you suggesting that you, Miss Brooks, would use the death of your own family member to frame a drug dealer?” “Julian, you and Chloe dated for four years in college, and were married for three. You know what kind of person she was…” “I beg you…” In despair, I collapsed to my knees. The sun was setting fast. If I missed today, I’d have to wait until next year. But I wouldn’t live to see next year. This specific method of communing with the dead to uncover grievances was incredibly dangerous, requiring perfect conditions: the deceased’s death anniversary, the place where their deepest regrets lingered, and their bones. The most crucial condition was the remaining lifespan of the practitioner. I had gambled all my remaining life on this day, solely to prove Chloe’s innocence. “Shut up! Are you even human?!” Julian was beside himself with rage, kicking me repeatedly. “You evil person who killed my uncle! Get out of my house!” Leo, Julian and Serena’s son, charged at me, swinging a wooden sword. A dizzying blow, and I realized it had drawn blood. But he was an illegitimate child, the product of an affair. How dare he tell me to leave, living in a house Chloe had paid half the price for? “Hello, is this Grandma Joyce’s family?” “She’s in trouble, come quick.” I suddenly received a call and rushed back to the neighborhood in a panic. A group of thugs had overturned Grandma Joyce’s snack cart. Taking advantage of her blindness, they pushed her into a dirty ditch, surrounding her, cursing, and throwing stones. “The drug dealer’s grandma deserves to die!” “Kill that old blind hag!” “Her food must be poisoned!” Grandma Joyce was covered in mud, blood streaming from her forehead. She fumbled to climb out, stumbling and falling three times, while the thugs on the bank laughed even more brazenly. They used a bamboo pole to push her back down, maliciously poking her blind eyes. Her face, full of wrinkles and age spots, was soon streaked with bloody tears. “Mr. Si and Serena said this was just a small lesson. If you dare cause trouble at the Si mansion again, she won’t be the only one losing her sight.” The leader lightly patted my face with a sneer. My eyes burned, and my fists clenched. Julian and Serena, these animals! “Get out! All of you, get out!” I was furious, screaming and fighting off the thugs. It took all my strength to get Grandma Joyce back up. She didn’t say a word, just slapped me hard. “You give me back my Chloe! Why wasn’t it you who died?! Why?!” She bit at me like a madwoman, wailing and telling me to get lost. I suddenly remembered the day my brother was tortured to death by drug dealers. Mom collapsed, weeping hysterically, and when she finally came to, all she wanted was to divorce Dad. At first, the choice was made to take Chloe away, but I cried and screamed, demanding to stay, effectively stealing the life that should have been hers. “There are only three hours left until sunset. Dark energy will be strongest at night, and this grievance-seeking ritual could spiral completely out of control.” “Get over to the Si mansion, now!” “Also, I’ve brought Captain Miller back from Country D. He can prove Chloe’s identity as a police informant.” Hearing Samuel’s words, a glimmer of hope finally rose in my withered heart. This time, I was smarter. I didn’t go through the main entrance to clash with them, choosing to sneak in through a less obvious entrance. But dogs have an unusually keen sense of smell. As soon as they caught my scent, they started barking. Everyone in the yard became alert. Just then, Samuel knocked on the Si mansion door. “Uncle Samuel, what brings you here?” Julian was utterly respectful, not daring to breathe loudly. The Si family members all rushed to the front yard to greet him, even the dogs followed. This was because my Master, Samuel, was the scion of two of the wealthiest, most influential families in the region, the Si and Song clans, bound by marriage. He was, in effect, the joint head of both their empires. Samuel didn’t even spare a glance at them, leading Captain Miller into the courtyard. “I’m here today for one reason only: to clear Chloe’s name.”

“This is Chloe’s former superior, Captain Miller. He can verify Chloe’s identity as a police informant. And this is Chloe’s employment report.” Julian’s eyes went wide in shock. His hands trembled as he repeatedly flipped through the words on the report. Everyone exchanged glances; the scene was utterly silent. After a long moment, he finally found his voice. “What does this prove?” “Her fingerprints were on Liam’s body, and her earring was found at the crime scene! How do you explain all that?!” Captain Miller choked. He couldn’t explain it. Samuel paused, silently adjusting his cuff. I knew he was stalling for me. I immediately sped up, climbing into Chloe’s old room. The room was thick with dust, clutter piled so high there was barely any room to step. When she bought the house, she told me, “Sister won’t have to move anymore.” “You and Grandma Joyce should move in too. If the rest of us stay together, our family won’t be broken.” At that time, I was busy with Mom’s funeral. We both looked at each other, eyes brimming with tears, speechless. As long as drug dealers weren’t wiped out, who could be sure that those still alive wouldn’t face retaliation? Home was just a beautiful fantasy; we’d lost our home long ago. But now. Not only was there no place for her in her own home, but she herself had been wrongly accused as a drug dealer and died. I set up the soul-summoning array and poured half a bowl of my blood. Soon, Chloe’s soul was drawn forth. Her entire spirit was faded and dusty, some parts already transparent. It looked like she’d been tormented by malevolent spirits. “Are you a drug dealer?” Tears streaming down my face, I asked her. “No.” She shook her head, her eyes vacant. “When you called Ashley on FaceTime, what was the last thing you wanted to say?” She remained silent. There was so much she wanted to say, but her soul had forgotten everything. I changed my question. “Where did you hide the evidence you mentioned in the video call?” “Right here.” At the mention of evidence, a flicker of light appeared in her vacant eyes. She floated around the room, seemingly searching frantically. “Were you murdered?” “Yes.” Her head drooped, like a broken rag doll. Her expression became helpless and aggrieved. “Pain, pain.” She touched her neck, then her arms and legs. I understood. She had been dismembered. “Who was the murderer?” … “Mom! The monster! The monster is here again!” Leo suddenly burst in, kicking over my bowl of blood. His wooden sword struck, shattering the Everlasting Lamp. Flames licked up, burning all the ritual tools along the array. Chloe let out a shriek of agony that pierced my eardrums. I watched, helpless, as her soul began to smoke as if on fire, vanishing in an instant. *“Puh!”* I violently spat out a mouthful of blood, having suffered a backlash from the disturbed spirits. “Ahhh! Mom, help me!” The next second, Leo was writhing on the ground, bleeding from his nose and mouth. He squirmed like a maggot. His screams drew the Si family in. “I’m telling you, Ashley, if anything happens to my son, I’ll make sure you and your grandmother join him in the grave!” Serena cast a complex glance at Leo. She grabbed my collar and violently shoved me against a shelf of clutter, then snatched a nearby baseball bat and brutally smashed Chloe’s bones. “You damned bitch! You hurt my son! You won’t hurt anyone else!” Julian kicked my abdomen repeatedly, his eyes bloodshot with burning rage, on the verge of losing control. “Why won’t you let Liam rest in peace? Why do you have to provoke him?! Why won’t you leave our family alone?” Mrs. Si grabbed a feather duster and lashed at my head. “You two sisters are nothing but troublemakers! One killed my son, the other is hurting my grandson! Give me back my grandson’s life!” Mr. Si cursed me viciously, spitting at me. “Your whole family deserves to rot in hell!” I closed my eyes in helplessness, letting tears of pain stream down my face. “Everyone, stop this instant!”

Samuel’s sharp command. Everyone froze. They anxiously rushed Leo to the hospital. “Idiot! You can’t even handle such a small task!” Samuel’s face was etched with contempt and disdain, as he slapped me across the face. “What about Chloe’s damaged soul?” He gritted his teeth in anger, gripping my neck with such force that his knuckles turned white. “Use my blood to mend it.” “Your blood?” He raised an eyebrow, as if he’d heard the most ridiculous joke. “Someone like you, who stole Chloe’s life, is uneducated and useless, your blood is tainted.” “Who knows if you’ve been smoking weed all these years abroad.” He knew that mentioning drugs was the quickest way to sting me, yet he chose to blurt it out. Infuriated, I slapped his hand away. “What right do you have to blame Chloe’s death on me?!” “Her secret admirer?” Stung by the truth, his cheek muscles twitched subtly, and his eyes involuntarily darted away. “Only she has the right to blame me for taking her life. No one else does!” My index finger scornfully poked his shoulder, a hint of mockery playing on my lips. “Especially not a coward like you, who didn’t even dare to tell her you loved her.” After my outburst, I couldn’t hold back the pent-up grief and silently began to sob. “If you ever dare to look at me like that again, I’ll plant you at her grave as a tombstone…” “I wish I could be her tombstone…” Samuel’s anger deflated too. We moved all the clutter out of the room, searched for a long time, but found no evidence. “There’s no time left. The soul-summoning didn’t yield results, but I still have thirty years left of my life. Let me try to summon her soul.” I wiped a streak of blood from the corner of my mouth, my voice firm. “You don’t want to live?” “This life was hers to begin with, and now returning it to her, isn’t that the most fitting ending?” I managed a weak, sarcastic curl of my lips. “Didn’t you choose me to inherit your legacy precisely because you couldn’t abandon the Si and Song families, and couldn’t use your remaining lifespan to get her the truth?” “I can. I have nothing left to lose.” Despite the self-deprecating words, tears of injustice welled in my eyes as I spoke. But truly, when I communed, and witnessed Chloe’s entire life, I only felt that my own death was utterly worthless in comparison. Chloe was a person so good, it was almost foolish. She neatly wrote down memories of taking Grandma Joyce to the local fair, preparing a special birthday gift for her sister. She would wait until everyone else had eaten before getting her meal from the cafeteria, meticulously packing it to take back to Grandma Joyce, while she herself subsisted on a cheap bread roll. She said her dream was to protect the peace of the innocent. Even though everyone mocked her, saying a woman should just go home and be a stay-at-home wife, she remained resolute and bravely chose to become a police informant. The result? On Christmas Eve, she died in a foreign country. Scantily clad and starving, tormented to a horrific death, all alone. And the villains stole her husband, moved into her house, and then framed her as a drug dealer. “Liam, cross this forest and you’ll be out of Country D. Hurry, go!” In the memory, Chloe’s face was anxious, her heart pounding in her throat. Perhaps due to her unease, she kept feeling someone was following her, but when she turned, there was no one there. “What about you? What will you do?” Fifteen-year-old Liam was terrified, tears and snot smearing his face, clutching Chloe’s hand and refusing to let go. “Let’s go together, sis. I’m scared.” He hadn’t seen anything like this before, tricked by an online love interest into meeting in Country D. He got into a black car and was somehow kidnapped to a compound for an illegal scam syndicate. “I haven’t exposed my identity yet, I’ll be fine.” Chloe deluded herself, thinking she could simply trade her life for Liam’s. But she never imagined that neither she nor Liam would make it out alive. “Serena… It was Serena who killed Liam!” “Serena is the drug dealer!”

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It was three years after my death. Julian finally started looking for new love. But every single time, he’d bring Lily along, and he’d constantly bring up mundane kid stuff, like baby food recipes and diaper brands. It infuriated his dates, who’d storm out in a huff, and every attempt ended in spectacular failure. I was so annoyed, I wanted to cause some mischief, just to spook him a little. But then Lily just pointed at me, blinking. “Daddy, there’s…” Before she could finish, Julian peeled a shrimp, popped it into her mouth, and didn’t even glance my way. “There’s nothing there.” Huh? Was there something around me? I looked left and right, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Whatever. I slowly drifted closer to them. Just in time to see Julian slip the wedding ring off his left ring finger and put it in his pocket. Good. He finally remembered he was here to find a new partner. After all, no one likes a man who can’t get over his deceased ex-wife. I floated around Lily, making several silly faces at Julian, but they didn’t react. Looks like they couldn’t see me. So, I simply floated into the empty seat next to the woman. She seemed quite pleased with Julian, a faint smile playing on her lips. “I can accept the child. But in return, on the prenuptial agreement, I’ll need compensation in other areas.” Honestly, aside from having a kid, Julian was quite a catch. He was the sole heir to two powerful corporations. Six foot one, broad shoulders, narrow waist, smooth and dangerously handsome. When we were kids, his face made me go easy on him a few times; I’d only leave a few bruises on his back. Julian finished peeling the last shrimp, putting it in Lily’s bowl. Then he leisurely wiped his hands, his tone casual. “No problem.” “But every night, I sleep clutching a framed photo of my late wife. And every week, I spend three hours in the shower performing rituals for her memory. Oh, and no white clothes, it’s bad luck.” Silence fell over the woman. Her gaze then landed on Julian’s white shirt under his suit, and she gritted her teeth. “So, what color is your shirt? A kaleidoscope of white?” She was too polite. If it were me, I’d already be tearing into him. Julian looked somewhat surprised. “Oh, this is white? My apologies, I’m colorblind.” Ha! What a load of BS. Finally, the woman reached her breaking point, grabbed her bag, and stood to leave. Lily hopped off her chair, waving her little hand with practiced ease. “I’m sorry, Auntie. Grandma says Daddy’s a bit… slow.”

The date was over. Julian drove Lily home. In the car, Lily, full and content, was dozing off in the back seat. I gently, virtually, wrapped my arms around her. She was five now. Growing more and more like Julian, except for the shallow dimples at the corners of her mouth – those were mine. It was such a pity. I only got to spend two years with her. My chest felt hollow. Ghosts can’t cry. It’s truly annoying. I looked up, and my gaze met Julian’s in the rearview mirror. He glanced, then quickly shifted his focus back to the road ahead. I floated to the front passenger seat, stretching like I used to. “You’re not getting any younger, Julian. Find someone before you’re completely unmarketable. While you’ve still got *it*, just get yourself hitched!” Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the wedding ring back on Julian’s left ring finger. I didn’t know when he’d put it on again. “Oh, wow.” I leaned closer, examining it. “When we custom-ordered these diamond rings, you said it was ‘just okay.’ Why are you treating it like a treasure now?” “Heh, I guess now that you’re older, you’re all talk, huh?” As expected, no response. I was just talking to myself. Boring. Julian and I used to bicker constantly, and it made me quite fond of playful arguments. Now that I was a ghost, it was truly dull being alone in the mortal realm. I just stared out the window, lost in thought. Suddenly, I heard Julian whisper. “Think I’m old?” I didn’t quite catch it and leaned in curiously. “What mumbling? You sound like a buzzing mosquito.” Julian said nothing more, just a quick, fleeting curve of his lips. So weird. Just as it quieted down, Julian’s phone rang. It was a FaceTime call from the group chat, “The Lily Keepers’ Alliance.” I’d named it that myself, back in the day. He answered, and four people were already in the call: my parents and Julian’s parents. “Julian, how did the meeting go today?” That was my mom, Brenda.

Our families have known each other for generations, practically lived next door. So Julian and I grew up together, always. But we were the wild, chaotic kind of kids. I’d climb a tree, and he’d kick the trunk; he’d go swimming, and I’d hide his towel. Basically, we were rivals from day one. As adults, we each inherited our family businesses, and we’d constantly try to outmaneuver each other in the corporate world, just to prove who was stronger. But fate, or our parents, decided we were destined to be together. They arranged our marriage. Since we didn’t exactly *hate* each other, we went through with it. Lily was born a year after we married. Three years into our marriage, I died. After my death, the burden of both the Chloe and Julian family corporations fell squarely on Julian’s shoulders. He also had both sets of parents to care for and a child to raise. He did incredibly well. He didn’t take advantage of the situation to absorb my family’s company, and he treated my parents and Lily with immense kindness. So, he’d mourned me for three years. By any measure, that was more than enough. My parents couldn’t bear to see him alone for the rest of his life, and I’d even mentioned it in one of his dreams. So, they recently started setting him up with other women. Sigh. People always have to move forward. Ghosts too. Julian smiled, his voice gentle. “Mom, this can’t be rushed. I’m driving Lily home right now, so let’s chat later.” My mom sighed. “You, kid. Alright, alright. Just remember to come over for dinner next week with Lily, okay?” Julian agreed, then fell silent. Both sets of parents chatted for a few more minutes until the car pulled into the neighborhood before hanging up. Julian scooped Lily from the back seat, holding her against him. On the way, he gently patted her, his voice softer than a summer breeze. “My little one, we’re home. How about a nice bath before bed?” I floated behind him, watching Lily slowly open her eyes. She’d always had a sweet temperament, never waking up grumpy. Perhaps because her parents were both like gunpowder, they ended up with a child who was a living fire extinguisher. “Daddy, Mommy’s here.” Lily rubbed her eyes, trying to keep them open, but they soon drooped half-shut again. Julian didn’t stop. “Yes, Mommy’s always here.”

The house was still the same as three years ago, hardly changed. My favorite figurines and plushies were all in their usual spots, and my clothes still hung in the closet. Even the bedding set on our bedroom bed was still the one I’d picked out. Julian… he was quite sentimental. I floated beside them, listening to Julian tell Lily a bedtime story. He was much better at it than three years ago; it didn’t take long for Lily to drift off to sleep. When Lily slept, she hugged the cherry-print pajamas I’d bought her. My heart ached seeing that. I lay down beside her on the bed, pulling her into a virtual embrace. Why couldn’t I touch her? Being a ghost was truly frustrating. I needed to ask an angel if there was any way, even just to touch her once. If money could buy it, it wasn’t a problem. These past few years, I’d taken on all sorts of odd jobs in Heaven. With that money, I’d teamed up with other wealthy ghost-ladies to start a real estate empire in Heaven. Now, I was the richest ghost in Heaven. This chance to come back and stay for several days was a privilege I’d earned by saving money for three years, plus paying a hefty sum. All just for one last look at them before I reincarnated. I didn’t stay by Lily’s side for too long. A ghost, after all, might not be good for her. So, I secretly – no, I mean openly – floated into the bathroom. Julian was showering. In the misty steam, streams of water cascaded over every muscle and contour of his body, tinting his skin with a soft blush. Three years. This body was still so damn attractive. I swallowed, watching him from behind, then from the side, and finally, I just brazenly floated right in front of him. Julian braced one hand against the wall, raking his wet hair back from his forehead. “Chloe, you died too soon. We never even finished your ‘100 Positions for the Bathroom’ list.” He chuckled, staring directly in my direction, as if truly speaking to me. My spectral face flushed. I immediately started swearing. “You jerk! I’ve been dead for three years! Can you have some damn decency? Seriously, just a little?” After my outburst, I quickly left the bathroom. This was getting too hot. I remembered when Julian and I were in bed. We never really compromised. He’d pin me down and try to make me call him “sir.” I’d bite him and demand he call me “ma’am.” To get the upper hand, I specifically researched “100 Positions for the Bathroom,” determined to dominate him. I never expected. That jerk actually gave in for the first time, praising my ‘research.’ He even told me to look up positions for the bedroom, living room, kitchen… Ugh, so annoying.

After his shower, Julian was half-reclined on the bed, reading a parenting guide. He was wearing his glasses, a rare sight. Even with glasses, he still looked like a devilishly charming rogue. I floated beside him, watching him closely. Still handsome, but there were a few more fine lines around his eyes. “Being a ghost has its perks. Your appearance is frozen at the age you died, so I’m still super young.” Saying that, I floated onto Julian, settling myself on his lap and gazing at him. “Hehe, so you’re much older than me now. You’re not worthy! How about that? I win this round, don’t I?” Julian suddenly closed his book and took off his glasses. Then he closed his eyes, rubbing his temples. “Chloe, how could you be so cruel? You’ve only visited me in my dreams once in three years.” His voice sounded so weary, like he was genuinely blaming me. And he wasn’t wrong. I really had only visited his dreams once. And that time, I was furious, telling him he absolutely had to mourn me, for at least three years. He looked thoughtful, then laughed, his eyes red. “So, if I found someone new right away, would you be mad enough to come back to life?” Without a doubt, I beat him up in that dream. I hadn’t been back in his dreams since. Thinking about it, I mumbled to myself. “Isn’t it because I’m afraid my charm is too great? If I visited your dreams often, you might never forget me.” “After all, I’m not saying I was the most beautiful woman in the country, but certainly top tier in the state. Guys lined up for miles to marry me. I only picked you because you seemed easy to handle.” Saying that, I leaned into Julian, pretending to pinch his cheek. “Understand?” But he suddenly opened his eyes, looking directly in my direction. He let out a soft chuckle. “Oh? You really think you’re that irresistible?”

My heart pounded twice—if I still had a heart. Could Julian see me? But if the spirit authorities found out I could be seen by mortals, they’d immediately send me back to the underworld. All my efforts would be for nothing. However, the next second, Julian spoke again. “Been hanging there for three years, aren’t you tired? Maybe I should put someone else up there?” That’s when I realized he was talking to our wedding photo, hanging on the wall behind me. In the picture, I was faking a smile, while Julian had a subtle smirk. I immediately got angry. “Oh, so you’ve wanted to find a new wife for ages, but those blind dates just weren’t good enough, huh?” But after saying it, I felt stupid. I was the one who told my parents to set him up, and I was the one who wanted him to find a new partner. Yet hearing him say that still hurt. It was bad enough being conflicted when I was alive; why was my ghost self still fighting with both sides of my brain? Ugh. So annoyed, I made several more faces at Julian. I even mimicked my gruesome death to try and scare him. Julian suddenly looked away from the wedding photo, burying his face back in his book. Just then, his phone rang. I glanced at it. It was a call from Noah. He was a friend we’d grown up with, always mild-mannered. When Julian and I used to fight as kids, Noah would often try to mediate, only to inexplicably end up getting hit the most. Julian answered the phone, and Noah’s familiar gentle voice instantly came through. “Julian, a friend recommended a pretty reputable therapist for you. Take your medication—” His words were cut off. “Busy. Gotta go.” Julian hung up abruptly. I froze for a moment, a single question swirling in my mind: Why did Julian need to see a therapist? After floating in circles for a while, I decided to visit Noah’s dream and ask him. Because with Julian’s personality, even if I visited his dream and asked, he’d definitely lie to save face.

Noah said Julian had PTSD and severe depression, needing to take a lot of medication just to sleep. I was shocked. But on second thought, it made sense. After all, Julian had witnessed the attack and my death firsthand. Anyone normal would be traumatized by that. But he always acted so nonchalant and easygoing, hiding it so well that everyone overlooked it. Noah also said Julian planned to die once Lily was grown and independent. I fell silent. No way. So, I went back to Heaven and asked an angel to lend me something.

I was determined to find Julian a reliable partner. So, after returning to the mortal realm, I spent several days observing Julian. And Maya. Maya used to be my secretary. She’d just transitioned to a permanent position when we were both attacked. Then I, her boss, died, and Julian took over the company. Now, she was in the lounge, playing with Lily and her toy BBQ set. “Your daddy will be done with his meeting soon, just a little longer, okay?” Saying that, she pulled a small box from her pocket, opened it, and inside was a necklace. It looked expensive, at least several months of her salary. Maya put the necklace around Lily’s neck, tucking it inside her shirt. “May little Lily have a peaceful life.” Though Lily didn’t understand the value of the jade, she politely said, “Thank you, Auntie.” Then she softly asked, “Auntie, can I hug you?” Maya paused, then slightly opened her arms. Lily immediately rushed over, pressing her ear to Maya’s chest. “It’s beating so fast!” Maya’s eyes suddenly welled up. Just then, the lounge door opened, and Julian walked in. “Thank you for your trouble.” “Someone from East River is trying to poach you, aren’t they? If the position and compensation are right, you should consider it. I’ve told you before, you don’t need to stay at Skyward out of a sense of gratitude or guilt.” …Why was he so cold? Maya stood up, ramrod straight, and replied, “Understood, Mr. Stone.” Julian nodded, then started packing up Lily’s things. Maya watched his retreating back, murmuring softly, “Actually, it’s not entirely because of those things…” She liked Julian, but for some complicated reasons, she dared not say it. I saw it. That’s why I’d been observing her thoroughly for the past few days. I found that not only did she continue to excel at her job, but she also knew Julian’s private preferences. She knew his coffee always had only half a spoon of sugar, knew he preferred dark ties… Most importantly, she was genuinely kind to Lily. And besides, my heart was beating in her chest. Julian, too, truly needed to let go of his feelings for me and live his life. Sigh. It was up to me to make this happen. I slowly pulled out a string. It was a red string of fate. Once tied, Julian would forget his feelings for me and fall for Maya.

I tied one end of the red string around Maya’s wrist. Then I floated over to Julian, intending to tie it on him too. But as I moved to do it, I hesitated for a long time. Just as I finally gathered my resolve and tried to loop the red string onto his wrist, I heard him ask Maya: “How are the preparations for our wedding going?” *Their* wedding? What did he mean? Were they already engaged, not needing a red string of fate? Startled, the red string slipped from my hand. I still hadn’t tied it on him. Maya immediately replied, “It’s 100% complete, as you requested, a traditional style. The on-site photos and promotional plan are already on your desk, Mr. Stone…” It turned out they were talking about work. I rolled my eyes for a moment, intending to resume tying the red string on Julian. But he just happened to turn, picking up Lily, and walked out of the lounge. So I missed. And the string wouldn’t work if they weren’t in the same space. I was fuming, chasing Julian and yelling, “Ahhh, it was almost done! You could have forgotten me, you jerk!” He inexplicably paused his steps, then continued walking. I was about to keep ranting when an irritating phone ringtone suddenly blared in my ear. “Satan’s coming to claim your soul! Satan’s coming to claim your soul!” That’s right, even Heaven has Wi-Fi, and ghosts have phones. With a trembling hand, I pulled out my phone from thin air. As soon as I answered, the angry roar on the other end nearly burst my eardrums. “Is your mortal realm business taken care of?! I finally stole this red string of fate from Cupid’s pocket, hurry up and use it before it’s discovered!” “You’re almost three years dead! Exceeding three years means not only no reincarnation, but your soul will vanish! Don’t drag this out! Also! You *must* be back for your check-up the day after tomorrow!” I held the phone away from my ear, nodding emphatically. “Yes, yes, almost done, almost! Don’t worry, I’ll definitely be there the day after tomorrow!” After finally hanging up, I sighed. “How can I *not* worry?” I circled Julian and Lily anxiously several times. Finally, I muttered to myself, “No, I need to visit his dream tonight and talk to him properly.”

I entered Julian’s dream for the second time. In the dream, he stood in a tuxedo at our wedding venue, but the chapel was empty save for him. As I approached, I saw him raise an eyebrow. “Finally decided to show up? You’d rather go to Noah’s dream than mine?” I let out an awkward laugh. “Haha, well, here I am.” Then I caught myself. “Noah still told you, didn’t he? Damn it, I knew he always sided with you!” Julian smiled helplessly, looking a bit haggard. He pulled me into his embrace. He didn’t say anything, just held me. I felt a little unaccustomed. After being a ghost for so long, the last time I touched Julian was ages ago. And after three years apart, it just felt… strange. Thinking that, I found a topic. “Your illness—” I hadn’t expected to only get three words out before he silenced me with a kiss. Wow. His lips were warm! Of course, I hadn’t exactly been kissing any cold lips in the underworld. My ghost-girlfriends always dragged me to meet ghost male models, but I always refused. Mainly, their quality was poor. They weren’t as handsome as Julian, and they didn’t have his… *assets*. I guess once you’ve had the best, you can’t go back to basics. But even after three years, Julian’s kissing skills were as powerful as ever. Soon, he had me so weak-kneed I could barely stand. Just as I was wondering if he’d been practicing with someone. Julian wrapped one hand around my waist, lifting me to sit on a pristine white table. Instantly, the scent of desserts and fresh flowers filled the air around us. And he finally pulled away from my lips, his voice low and husky. “I’ve mourned you for three years. You need to compensate me properly.” With that, he tilted his head back, kissing me again. His hands were restless. I quickly clasped his hands, my face flushing. “Julian! This is a chapel! Even if no one’s here, but—” “What? Scared? You were pretty brave when you looked up ‘100 Positions for the Outdoors,’ weren’t you?” His eyes lifted, tinged with a faint red. “Or are you saying, even as a ghost, you’re not as adventurous as me?” Hearing that, I instantly got fired up. “How could that be! I’ve learned so much in Heaven! Just you wait!” In a rush of adrenaline, I used everything my ghost-girlfriends in Heaven had taught me on him.

A long while later, the chapel was a mess. Cakes and desserts were scattered on the floor, and flowers lay crushed everywhere. I lay with my head in Julian’s lap, tickling his face with a flower petal. “Julian, if only we hadn’t gotten married, you wouldn’t have had to—” “Had to what for you?” He sighed, a soft laugh in his voice. “Chloe, whether we married or not doesn’t matter. I’ve always loved you. For a very, very long time.” I froze for a moment. The flower petals in my hand fell onto my face. Suddenly, many images of Julian popped into my mind. Julian, who laughed at me for failing to climb a fence, then pulled a band-aid from his backpack; Julian, who was supposed to go to America but inexplicably ended up in England, studying abroad with me; Julian, who added a clause to my twenty-page prenuptial agreement: “penalty for running away from home is sharing a bed for six months”; Julian, who, even after we married, would video call me if he was away for just one day, calling it his “husbandly duty.” It turned out his love had always been evident everywhere, but I was just too dense to see it. The Julian before me picked up a petal and flicked my forehead. “Idiot.” I sniffled, burying my head deeper into Julian’s lap. “Okay, I admit I’m a *little* bit of an idiot.” His voice was tinged with amusement. “Chloe, you actually gave in.” I let out a soft “Hmph,” and after a moment, said, “Julian, don’t you dare commit suicide.” He fell silent for a moment, then let out a cold laugh. “Dream on. Maybe one day I’ll meet someone beautiful and forget all about you.” “Julian, why are you still such a big talker?” I reached up and buttoned his open shirt. “But you really should try dating. Don’t always dwell on me. After all, you won’t find another perfect person like me in this world.” He caught my hand, teasing, “How did your skin get even thicker after becoming a ghost?” I rolled my eyes, then grew serious again. “Julian, take good care of Mom, Dad, and Lily.” “Mind your business. You think I need you to tell me?” “Put all my things away, don’t keep them in the house.” “It’s my house, I decide.” I bit the back of his hand hard. “Burn all those ‘100 Positions’ books! They’re ruining my reputation!” He smiled playfully. “Why burn them? I might still use them with someone else.” “…” I gritted my teeth. “Julian, you shameless jerk!” He bent down, examining me closely. “So particular, are we? Then why do you keep wanting me to find someone else?” My voice was muffled. “It’s different.” “Julian, I’m serious.” “Get well, let me go, and don’t commit suicide.” He fell silent again. I don’t know how long the quiet lasted before I spoke. “I won’t bother you anymore. You have to take Lily to Mom and Dad’s for dinner tomorrow.” With that, I tried to leave. But Julian pulled me back into his embrace, holding me tightly. “Chloe, just a little longer.” This time, I heard it. He was crying.

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Three months into our marriage, my wife, Clara Sterling, suddenly installed a camera in our bedroom. Then she kicked me out to sleep in the guest room. “I lost a bet to Dylan Blackwood.” “The wager was to sleep in separate rooms for thirty days, so you’ll just have to make do with the guest room for now.” With that, she forcefully pushed me out and slammed the door shut. That night, I overheard her telling Dylan on the phone: “I’ve already set up the monitor, you can supervise anytime, anywhere. I promise I’ll stick to our agreement.” “He absolutely won’t step foot in my bedroom this month.” In the past, I would have relentlessly pressed her for answers, demanding to know why. But now, my heart was calm, unburdened by her anymore. I’d become completely detached, letting go of any lingering feelings for her. Suddenly, I felt like this marriage had run its course. It was time to end it. 0 The moment she saw the divorce papers, she completely freaked out. “Ryan Caldwell, it’s just thirty days in the guest room! Are you seriously going to divorce me over that?” Watching her outburst, a bitter smile touched my lips. “What else, Clara? Should I wait until you two sleep together and you’ve completely made a fool out of me before I even think about divorce?” My gaze locked onto her, searching for even a flicker of guilt or hesitation in her eyes. But all I saw was shock and pure fury. Her face flushed with rage. “This is ridiculous! I don’t even know what you’re making such a fuss about!” “If Dylan and I were ever going to do anything, I wouldn’t have married you in the first place! Why would I wait until now?” “It was just a stupid bet, why are you taking it so seriously? After thirty days, you can come back to the room.” I just watched her, calmly observing her hysterical meltdown. After a long moment, I finally countered, “If it was just a bet, then why are you taking it so seriously?” Without a moment’s hesitation, she shot back: “I already promised him! What else was I supposed to do?” “If I don’t follow through, how can I ever face him or my friends again?” “People with twisted minds see malice everywhere. Can you please stop looking at us through such a dirty lens?” Deep down, I knew it. In her heart, I still couldn’t compare to Dylan Blackwood. I was just a pawn in their twisted game. “Are you sure he doesn’t have feelings for you?” I scoffed, my voice dripping with sarcasm. My question stunned her. She paused, momentarily speechless. After a brief silence, she looked me dead in the eye, her expression earnest. “I am absolutely, one hundred percent certain.” I unlocked my phone and found the messages Dylan had sent me. Then I read them aloud, word for word. “Ryan Caldwell, I’m going to compete with you fairly. I’ll take her away from you.” I paused after that sentence, looking up at her. Her face had gone a little pale. I continued reading. “You only snatched her away because I wasn’t around. Otherwise, she definitely would have married me!” “You know what? I hugged her today. Her body was so soft, so fragrant. I almost couldn’t stop myself.” … Before I could finish, she snatched the phone out of my hand. Her movement was sudden and frantic. “No way, he wouldn’t send these! You must have fabricated them to try and divorce me!” I watched her calmly, not a single ripple in my heart. “Whether he sent them or not, why don’t you confront him directly and find out?” Suddenly, Clara gave me a meaningful look. She let out a cold laugh. “Ryan Caldwell, you know what? You’re pretty devious.” “I can’t believe you’d stoop to this level just to break us up. You’re truly ruthless.” “But you think I’ll believe you? Dylan and I have known each other for over a decade. I know exactly what kind of person he is.” “We might not be blood siblings, but we’re closer than any brother and sister I know.” “You think one sentence from you can make us doubt each other and ruin our bond?” “You underestimate our relationship.” She grabbed her bag and walked out, not a moment of hesitation. 0

Clara and Dylan had been neighbors for over ten years. She was five years older than him. Perhaps, as Clara claimed, she really did only see Dylan as a younger brother. It was possible she’d never once considered a relationship with him that went beyond sibling affection. But she was completely oblivious. He, on the other hand, was deeply, irrevocably in love with her. The way Dylan looked at her always held a hidden tenderness and longing. It had only grown deeper and more fervent with time. A year ago, Clara and I met at a friend’s wedding. It was love at first sight for me. Once I confirmed she was single, I began to pursue her relentlessly. I brought her breakfast every day, waited for her after work, and accompanied her to do all the things she loved. I made a genuine effort to understand her preferences and cared deeply about her life. Six months later, we finally started dating. And then, later, came the wedding. All told, it had only been a little over a year since we first met. Our wedding was lavish, with all our friends and family there to wish us well. On our wedding day, Dylan specifically took time off to fly back and attend. He walked up to me in a sharp suit, his eyes filled with a wistful melancholy. “You have to take good care of her. If you ever make her shed a single tear, I swear I won’t let you get away with it.” I laughed then, responding, “Don’t worry, I’ll never let her suffer a moment of injustice.” I initially thought he was just acting like a protective older brother, giving me a stern warning. Now, looking back, that was probably the first skirmish between Dylan and me. From that moment on, he had already seen me as a rival. And I had been completely oblivious. 0

Clara suddenly showed up at my office with Dylan. An ominous feeling instantly washed over me. She sat down, skipping all pleasantries and small talk, cutting straight to the chase. “Ryan Caldwell, Dylan and his friends have a new project that needs promotion. Can you handle it for them, free of charge?” I frowned, my voice firm as I replied, “I can’t do it for free.” Clara’s face immediately fell. A flicker of displeasure crossed her usually bright eyes. “Ryan Caldwell, aren’t you the Creative Director? You can’t even manage this small favor?” I felt a surge of helplessness. She was always pushing her agenda like this. “I am the Creative Director, yes, but I’m not the owner. I don’t make those decisions.” “If you’re serious about collaborating, please follow the proper procedures.” Clara glared at me. “I don’t care. I already promised them.” “You have to do this promotion, whether you like it or not. You can’t make me lose face.” “It’s just a small advertisement, isn’t it? Just have your team pull a few all-nighters, and it’ll be done. That way, it won’t delay your other projects. Don’t tell me you can’t even manage your own staff?” I spoke, my voice cold. “Clara Sterling, can you please get your own affairs in order before you start trying to help other people?” Clara just gave me a dismissive glance and started playing dumb. “What affairs are you talking about?” “Have you signed the divorce papers yet?” My calm demeanor took Clara by surprise. She hadn’t expected me to suddenly bring up that topic and seemed momentarily flustered. Just then, a flash of surprise lit up Dylan’s eyes. “Clara, you two are getting divorced?” “No way. Is it… because of me? If it is, then we’ll just forget about the advertisement.” As he spoke, he actually started to sound tearful, his voice trembling as if he’d been gravely wronged. Clara’s expression already showed her annoyance. She frowned and shot Dylan a glance. “It’s not your fault, he’s just lost his mind and suddenly wants a divorce.” Dylan immediately started fanning the flames. “Clara, don’t say I didn’t warn you. When a guy acts like this, ten to one he’s got another woman on the side. You need to be careful.” He said this, secretly observing Clara’s reaction, a sly glint in his eyes. I let out a cold laugh, my disgust for Dylan deepening. You’re the other man, aren’t you? And here you are, the pot calling the kettle black! “Ryan Caldwell, are you seeing another woman?” Her face was beet red. My tone was uncharacteristically calm. “No!” I had no intention of wasting my breath on such baseless accusations. Clara glared at me, aggressively demanding an answer. “If not, then why are you suddenly divorcing me?” I hinted, “Don’t you know perfectly well why I’m divorcing you?” After a brief silence, she suddenly gave a strange laugh. “He could never have those kinds of feelings for me. That’s just your personal fantasy.” I turned, a playful smirk on my face, and looked at Dylan. “The man himself is right here. Why don’t you just ask him?” I just wanted to see how Dylan would try to squirm his way out of this. Dylan’s face instantly went white. He quickly said, “Ryan Caldwell, what are you implying? You can’t accuse me unfairly.” I chuckled softly, “Unfairly or not? You know the truth in your heart.” Dylan was so furious he turned and stormed out. Clara’s anger flared even more. She shot to her feet with a whoosh! “Ryan Caldwell, you are truly disappointing.” She spun around and ran after Dylan, her urgency making it seem like she was rushing to the ends of the earth. 0

I never imagined the retaliation would come so swiftly and unexpectedly. That night, my phone screen lit up. It was a message from Dylan. “Looks like you’ve trained Clara well, huh? Just watch how I slowly trick her into being mine.” “You must be pretty mad right now, all alone in your empty bed!” And then there was a video. In the video, Clara and Dylan were locked in a tight embrace, passionately kissing. Their eyes seemed to be pulled together by an invisible thread, entwined, full of undeniable intimacy and longing. I quickly saved the video. Well, well, well. Free divorce evidence, I’d be a fool not to take it. It wasn’t until the middle of the night that I heard a soft click as the front door opened. Clara was finally home. The next morning, I nonchalantly brought it up. “Did you two kiss?” Clara’s eyes flickered, a momentary panic flashing before quickly subsiding. In the end, she admitted it quite readily. “Yes, but we had a good reason. It was unavoidable, and I can explain.” My face was stone-cold. “Go on, explain then. I’m listening.” Clara began to recount the events of the previous night. “We were playing truth or dare, and he lost. The dare was to kiss one of the opposite sex for a minute.” “There were a few other women there, but I wasn’t sure if they had any STDs.” “What if they kissed him and passed something on to Dylan? That wouldn’t be good.” “He’s the only son in his family, and his parents are counting on him to carry on the family name. We can’t risk anything happening to him.” “My health is fine, and I don’t have any weird diseases, so I just stepped in to help him out.” “That’s pretty much what happened.” I looked at her, my expression blank. “Clara Sterling, I never knew you had such a charitable side. I guess I underestimated you.” “Since you care so much about him, why won’t you agree to divorce me?” She heard the sarcasm in my voice and frowned. But she continued her earnest explanation. “Two people get together and marry because they like each other and love each other, obviously.” “You and I have love, but with Dylan, it’s just family affection. Do you understand what I mean?” As she said this, she tried to meet my gaze, but her eyes flickered nervously. Clearly, even she knew her explanation was flimsy. I rubbed my temples in frustration. I had no patience left to listen to her justifications. These empty excuses. To me, they were nothing more than a cover-up for her betrayal. “I’m asking you one last time: Are you signing the divorce papers?” She thought for a moment before replying, “Of course not, why would I?” I glanced at her face, my voice flat. “Alright, I understand.” In that moment, the last shred of affection I held for her completely vanished. It was only now that I realized my disgust for her had reached its peak. How could I have ever fallen for her? Was I blind, or was she just a masterful actress? Never mind, I was tired of dwelling on it. 0 Two days later was Mr. Sterling’s sixtieth birthday banquet. I attended the celebration as expected.

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My husband, Liam, had only been gone for an hour when water started seeping again from the bathroom ceiling, a sinister drip that made my stomach churn. It was always like this since we moved into this new apartment complex. Every single time Liam left for a business trip, the upstairs apartment would start leaking. The first few times, Liam absolutely forbade me from going up there to talk to them. He said they were unreasonable, and he didn’t want me to get upset or deal with any drama. He reported it to the building management, and sure enough, the leaking would stop for a few days. But as soon as he left for another trip, the leak would start all over again. This time, I still called him first. “Liam, the ceiling is leaking again.” Maybe it was just my imagination, but I thought I heard the sound of rushing water from his end of the line. Then, Liam’s voice came through: “Don’t worry about it. I’ll deal with it when I get back from my trip. The people upstairs are trouble, so whatever you do, don’t go up there yourself.” I nodded, just like I always did, but my feet were already carrying me out the front door. I was going to find out just how much “trouble” those upstairs neighbors really were. 1 As I pressed the elevator button for the upstairs floor, my heart pounded with a mix of nerves and curiosity. Liam, my husband, always claimed the upstairs residents had a terrible temper, yet every time he “discussed” it with them, the problem would be “resolved” for a few days. It was just too suspicious. The elevator doors opened. I took a deep breath and walked towards their apartment door. As I approached, I could faintly hear the sound of water and a woman’s laughter from inside. I raised my hand and knocked. The noise inside suddenly stopped. But a long moment passed, and no one came to open the door. I knocked again, harder this time, and raised my voice: “Hello? I’m your downstairs neighbor. My bathroom ceiling is leaking again, and I’d like to understand what’s going on.” Still no movement inside, and the water sounds had completely stopped. A faint, lingering scent wafted out from under the door. It was a fragrance I’d never bought, yet it felt strangely familiar. My mind was a chaotic whirl, but I forced myself to wait a few more minutes. Seeing no one would open the door, I reluctantly went back downstairs to my apartment. Back home, I opened the building’s SnapChat group chat, hoping to find a contact for the upstairs neighbor, but after scrolling for ages, I found nothing. The more I thought about it, the more wrong it felt, so I called building management. But even they knew very little about that particular unit. I walked onto the balcony, thinking I might be able to call out to them, but just as I poked my head out, a familiar figure flashed past. Wasn’t that Liam’s favorite gray jacket? I wanted a closer look, but even after crouching there for half an hour, no one came out onto the balcony again. Had I seen wrong? I shook my head, convinced it was just my nerves playing tricks on me, making me hallucinate. Just then, my front door lock clicked. I jumped, startled. Liam was on a business trip – who else had a key to our apartment? Could it be the upstairs residents, enraged by my visit, were coming for revenge? I grabbed the broom by the door, hid behind it, and waited, my heart hammering in my chest, for the door to open. The door slowly pushed open, and a figure walked in, holding a bouquet of roses. I froze, the broom clattering to the floor: “Liam? You’re not supposed to be back from your trip yet! What are you doing here?” Liam looked startled to see me too, then smiled and walked over: “The company had a last-minute change to the project, and then you called about the leak. I couldn’t stop worrying, so I decided to come home, and surprise you while I was at it.” He reached out to hug me, but I instinctively took a step back: “I just went upstairs to talk to the neighbors. Someone was definitely home, but they wouldn’t open the door.” Liam’s eyes flickered for a second, and he quickly changed the subject: “I told you they’re trouble. I’ll go up there tomorrow. Just don’t get involved, okay?” As he spoke, he handed me the roses and leaned in to kiss me. In that instant, I caught the same familiar scent I’d smelled upstairs, and my heart tightened.

The overpowering scent of the roses had masked it before. But as Liam leaned in, I caught that familiar smell again. I also noticed the hair at the back of his neck was damp. So I reached up and touched it. “Why is your hair wet?” His body stiffened noticeably for a split second, then he chuckled: “Didn’t you notice it started raining outside? I got a little soaked buying you flowers on my way home.” I pulled back the curtains. Indeed, at some point, a light rain had started falling outside. Liam’s explanation sounded perfectly reasonable, but my suspicion didn’t lessen a bit. I didn’t let it show, though. I took the flowers with a big, happy smile: “Thanks, honey. You should go take a hot shower right away, don’t want you catching a cold.” He seemed to let out a sigh of relief, and without another word, headed straight for the bathroom. Lying in bed that night, my mind was replaying everything from today: the leak always starting when Liam was away, the suspicious sound of water, that scent, the fleeting figure, and his sudden reason for coming home. All these things together just felt off. Something wasn’t right. Tomorrow, I had to go with Liam and confront that neighbor myself. The next morning, as soon as I placed breakfast on the table, Liam leaned over. He kissed me, his tone casual: “Honey, I just tried contacting the upstairs neighbor. He said he’ll have someone come fix it today.” My milk glass paused mid-air. I looked up at him: “You have their contact information? Could you give it to me? That way, if anything happens when you’re on a trip, I can contact them directly.” But Liam shook his head, playfully teasing: “It’s a guy living up there, and he looks like a total creep. My gorgeous wife, I wouldn’t want him bothering you.” “Besides,” he added, “once this leak is fixed, we won’t have any reason to interact with him again.” I didn’t say anything, just stirred my oatmeal, a new wave of suspicion swirling in my mind. Yesterday, I’d distinctly heard a woman’s voice. Why was Liam telling me it was a man? Could it be a couple living up there? Over the next two days, I had to leave for a business trip myself due to work. But for two days straight, I was completely out of sorts, my mind consumed by those lingering questions. Finally, after finishing my work, I decided to head home early. I tried to open the door with my key, but for some reason, it was double-locked from the inside. After about two minutes, Liam finally opened the door. “Honey, why are you back? Weren’t you supposed to be back tomorrow?” I looked at his flustered expression and forced a smile: “I missed you, so I came back early. What were you doing? Why was the door double-locked?” Liam pointed to the apron he was wearing. “I was just cooking! Probably locked it out of habit when I came in. You’re back just in time! Go wash your hands, dinner’s ready.” With that, Liam turned back to the kitchen, busying himself with cooking. Since we got married, I’d barely set foot in the kitchen whenever he was home. Everyone said I’d married a wonderful man. On top of that, he was always big on holidays and special occasions, constantly showering me with gifts, big and small. Watching his busy figure, a sudden wave of guilt washed over me. Maybe I really was just being too sensitive. It was probably just a coincidence. How could I even suspect him of cheating? I nodded happily and walked over to check out the food, but then I saw a dish that shouldn’t have been there. My heart sank. I said coldly, “Why did you make spicy shrimp pasta? We’re both allergic to shrimp, remember?” At that moment, the storm of suspicion I’d just tried to quell surged back, even stronger than before.

Liam looked like he suddenly remembered something, and he frantically dumped the shrimp pasta into the trash can. “Oh, right! My subordinate said these shrimp were from his own farm, so I just took them. Good thing you came home, honey, or I would’ve been miserable!” “Never mind! Let’s go out for a nice dinner tonight, no need to eat at home.” He put his arm around me, trying to coax me, then humbly massaged my waist and shoulders. When we arrived at the restaurant, he handed me his phone: “Order whatever you want, don’t worry about saving money for your husband, okay? All my money is for my precious wife.” Just as I took the phone to order, my finger accidentally brushed the search button. And the next second, a pink 26-key keyboard popped up. My heart skipped a beat as I stared, dumbfounded, at the glaring keyboard. Liam and I had been together for three years and married for two. I knew his typing habits better than anyone. We both preferred the 9-key layout, finding the 26-key too cumbersome. Even if this 26-key keyboard was an accidental tap, what was with the pink cat-themed keyboard skin? Liam always used his phone’s default keyboard. This had to be someone else’s customized setting. At this point, I was certain – Liam was cheating. That woman used rose-scented body wash, loved spicy shrimp pasta, and typed on a 26-key keyboard. But I wouldn’t confront him directly. I wanted to catch them in the act myself. In the days that followed, to make Liam reveal his hand, I never mentioned the upstairs apartment again. And after he said he’d had someone fix the leak, it actually hadn’t leaked again. Less than a week later, whether his lover couldn’t wait or Liam was just impatient, he “left for another business trip.” This time, half a day after he left, there was still no leak from upstairs. Had it actually been fixed? Just then, there was a knock at the door, followed by a delivery guy’s voice. I froze for a moment. I hadn’t ordered anything, so why was there a delivery? I opened the door and took the package. When I saw what was inside the bag, my heart instantly pounded like crazy. The recipient was Liam, the address was our apartment number, and the phone number was my secondary one. But inside the bag was a bottle of body wash, a box of condoms, and a tube of lubricant. My heart clenched painfully. The items in my hand felt like they weighed a thousand pounds. Just as I suspected, when I unscrewed the body wash, that familiar scent instantly filled my nostrils. And I was allergic to lubricant. I hadn’t used anything like that with Liam in all our time together. The truth was screaming at me – Liam was with that woman right now. He had ordered these things but hadn’t bothered to check the address, so they’d been delivered to our home. The fact that the delivery app hadn’t automatically switched addresses also meant his “second home” had to be close by in the same complex. If I wasn’t mistaken, the upstairs apartment had to be his mistress’s secret hideaway! Because that day I came home early from my trip, Liam was cooking for her! But whether she hadn’t arrived yet, or she’d found out I was coming home early and left, I still couldn’t figure out. I was so angry my breath came in short gasps, and tears welled up and streamed down my face. But quickly, I wiped away my tears and carried the bag out the door. Upstairs, I knocked hard. Less than ten minutes later, the door opened. Staring at the hulking man in front of me, I was utterly unprepared and froze on the spot. What was going on? Was I really just imagining things?!

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When Liam’s first love, Serena, died from cancer, he was so distraught he tried to end his own life, wanting to join her. I was the one who carried his frail body through the small town late at night. I knocked on every door, begging on my knees until my face was raw and bleeding, all to drag him back from the brink of death. It left a jagged, ugly scar on my forehead. After that, he finally seemed to let go of his resentment and promised we’d build a good life together. But then, he dreamed of his deceased first love, Serena, who told him she was lonely in the afterlife. He couldn’t sleep. He dragged me to Serena’s grave and forced poison down my throat. “It’s all your fault we can’t be together. Since that’s the case, you can go accompany Serena for me.” That’s when I finally understood. He had always resented me, believing I was the reason his first love missed her best chance at treatment. Reborn. I was tired. All I wanted was a different life. “Elara, I’m begging you. Serena is sick, and she needs a huge sum of money for treatment.” Hearing that familiar voice, I opened my eyes. My husband, Liam, who’d vanished for a week after news of his first love’s cancer, had suddenly returned home. He was on his knees before me, pleading desperately. I feigned confusion, looking at the tear-streaked Liam. “But where would I get that kind of money?” Liam hesitated, his eyes flicking to the dressing table in the room. “Your wedding ring, yes, sell your wedding ring. That’ll give us the money.” Hearing the exact same words from my previous life, a cold sneer twisted my lips. “You’re telling me to sell *my* wedding dowry to pay for another woman’s medical bills?” “Liam, how dare you even suggest something like that?” The man’s face instantly changed. He probably hadn’t expected me, usually so timid, to openly challenge him. “Elara, saving a life is a sacred duty, I beg you, I can’t lose Serena.” “I’ll owe you, I swear. Once Serena is better, I’ll go work in the city and buy your ring back.” Liam was frantic. He dropped to his knees and started hitting his head on the floor. Again and again, until blood stained his forehead, he still wouldn’t give up. It was the first time he had ever begged me with such desperation, just as I had clutched at his pants, begging him before I died in my previous life. Right then, the scene before me overlapped with the moment before my death. *“It’s all my fault, Liam. I don’t want to die. Please, save me.”* The next second, Liam’s voice pulled me back to reality. “If you’re so desperate to save her, then you figure it out yourself.” “Anyway, I’m not selling this wedding ring.” With that, I strode back into the room and hid the ring on my person. Not like the last time, when I had hesitated, then handed it over to him. It never came back before I died.

“No! Serena can’t be dead! She’s alive, she’s still alive!” Another month passed. Inside Serena’s funeral parlor. Liam clutched her photo, howling in agony, tears streaming down his face. The other mourners eyed me strangely, one after another. His legal wife stood right there, yet he was openly weeping over another woman’s death. Mrs. Davis, a neighbor, pulled me aside. “Elara, go talk to Liam. No matter what his past with Serena was, she was married to another man. It looks so bad, him crying like this in front of her husband and family.” I glanced up. Serena’s in-laws looked furious, especially Mark, her husband. His face was darker than thunder. He had always been sensitive about Serena and Liam’s past, and now his eyes burned with rage. I pressed my lips together, watching the scene unfold. I shook my head. “Mrs. Davis, it’s not that I won’t, but you know Liam never listens to me.” I had always been easily swayed. In my previous life, I simply agreed to marry Liam because my parents assured me I’d be comfortable, that the Millers had a good standing. We had no deep affection, but we treated each other with respect. It wasn’t until a year into our marriage, when a woman named Serena in our town was diagnosed with cancer, that I realized Liam’s heart had always belonged to someone else. Serena’s parents had passed away, and she had five younger siblings. The Millers were afraid that if Liam married her, they’d be burdened with an entire family, and they flat-out refused to allow it. Fearing Liam and Serena would continue their affair, his parents hastily found a matchmaker and introduced him to me. Our town was notoriously conservative, and the scandal between Serena and Liam had been huge. Once the wedding was off, her reputation was ruined. She had no choice but to marry a poor, disabled man. Her husband’s family was dirt poor. To save every scrap of food for her younger siblings, she literally starved herself until she fell sick. Serena’s in-laws couldn’t afford her treatment. When Liam found out, he used his salary to take Serena to the city for medical care. Stomach cancer treatment cost a fortune. Liam’s salary wasn’t enough, which was why he’d come home, desperate to borrow money from me. This time, I hadn’t given him my wedding ring. So, while everyone slept, he snuck out and stole a large sum of money meant for the factory’s raw materials to continue Serena’s treatment. Just a week later, Serena passed away. The money was spent, the treatment failed, and our family was deep in debt. His recklessness gave his mother a stroke, but we couldn’t even afford a doctor for her. I never imagined Liam would go to such extremes. Seeing everyone whispering, I stepped forward and pulled Liam up. “Don’t let Serena rest in peace, go home.” The words were barely out when a sharp slap echoed through the funeral parlor. The noisy room instantly fell silent, all eyes on my face. Liam’s eyes were bloodshot as he roared at me, “Get out! You have no right to say that!” “If you hadn’t stopped me from saving Serena countless times, she never would have died!” The stinging pain in my cheek momentarily stole my voice. Liam glared at me, as if I were his mortal enemy. “Serena’s dead, you must be thrilled, huh? Finally, no one to compete with you.” “But don’t get your hopes up. Serena’s dead, and I won’t live without her.” After he said that, the mourners started whispering again. I heard someone scoff, “That Liam, what a lovesick fool. He actually wants to die for another man’s wife.” My experiences in the previous life had already left me utterly disillusioned. I no longer cared about Liam’s attitude towards me, but this slap? I wouldn’t take it lying down. The next second, I used all my strength and slapped him back. My hands, hardened by years of work, were as strong as any man’s. With one slap, Liam’s head reeled. Standing on moral high ground, I sternly reprimanded him in front of everyone. “That slap was for your parents! You may think you’re being loyal to Serena, but you’ve betrayed your mom and dad who worked so hard to raise you.” Then, I quietly stepped away from the crowd. Anyway, he wouldn’t live much longer. What was the point of arguing with a dead man?

The moment I walked out of the funeral parlor, piercing screams erupted behind me. “Help! Someone’s dead!” “Quick, someone! Liam just killed himself!” Someone rushed out and grabbed me. “Elara Miller, you need to go in! Your husband just pulled out a knife and cut his wrist! There’s so much blood!” I gave a cold, thin smile. “Oh? What’s that got to do with me?” The person shot me an exasperated look, muttering under their breath, “These two are truly bizarre. One wants to die for another man’s wife, and the other doesn’t care when her own husband tries to kill himself.” Another person pulled them away. “They say birds of a feather flock together. Never mind them, let’s find someone to help!” In my previous life, after Liam’s first love Serena died, Liam caused a scene at the funeral, threatening to kill himself. The moment he pulled out the knife, I grabbed the blade with my bare hands, stopping him. The wound healed into a scar that never quite faded, aching every time the weather changed. The last time he tried to take his life, he drank poison in his sleep one night. I used my frail body to carry him, knocking on every doctor’s door in town, pleading on my knees for help until my head was raw and bleeding. That’s how I saved his life. Later, I got another jagged, ugly scar on my forehead, forcing me to constantly wear bangs to cover it. Everyone praised him for his good fortune, for having a wife who loved him so deeply. He finally seemed to let go of his resentment and we settled into building a family. But then, he dreamed that Serena had contacted him, weeping about her loneliness in the afterlife. He couldn’t sleep at night. He dragged me to Serena’s grave, pried open my mouth, and forced a bottle of pesticide down my throat. Before I died, I heard his venomous voice. “If you had just agreed to sell your wedding ring sooner, Serena wouldn’t have died.” “Since you always kept Serena and me apart, you can go accompany her in my place.” I never imagined that the husband I cherished so much would personally send me to my death, all because of an absurd dream. I also never imagined that no matter what I did, it would all be in vain. Since fate had given me a chance to be reborn, I refused to live for him again. This time, I would only live for myself. Liam still didn’t die. Just like in my previous life, he spent three days locked in his room, clutching Serena’s old photos. Three days later, Serena’s funeral procession was held.

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Ten years of marriage, and Julian Thorne, the man who’d doted on me so deeply, was keeping another woman. On a day I was visiting my family’s graves, a somber occasion, they chose that moment to indulge their illicit desires. In a public restroom at the cemetery, they defiled each other. I found them. Afterwards, he held me captive. “You pathetic, parentless old hag, still dreaming you’re some high-society heiress? The Hayes empire, your family’s legacy, is mine now!” Verbal abuse, whips, boiling water. He even let his bastard son lock me away with ravenous vermin, to be gnawed alive, day after day, until I finally died. But he didn’t know. The Hayes Corporation? It was just a plaything I gifted him. And I, I was an heiress from one of the most powerful, old-money dynasties in the country. When I opened my eyes again, I was back. Back to the day I first learned he was keeping a mistress. I love collecting small curiosities: hamsters, spiders, and even non-venomous snakes. It was ironic, then, that I eventually died by the hands—or rather, the fangs and claws—of such creatures. I stroked the small, pinkish-white snake coiled around my wrist. It was as smooth as jade, acting as a docile, beautiful bracelet. But I couldn’t appreciate its beauty. My soul was still trembling from the memory of being gnawed alive in my past life. “It’s rare for you to ditch your husband and make time for me,” Chloe, my friend, remarked, sipping her tea. “But then again, your husband spoils you rotten.” “He just got a promotion and immediately bought you this tea house, all because you love tea. He goes to such lengths to make you happy, it makes me so jealous…” My thoughts, caught in the echoes of my past life, snagged on the mention of the tea house. Sweetheart’s Sanctuary. My full name is Evelyn Hayes. I’d thought Julian was being subtly romantic, dedicating the tea house to me, with a name that sounded so… personal. Only to discover his mistress’s pet name was “Sweetheart.” So for ten years, he’d played me for a fool, pretending deep affection with me while playing it for real with another woman. The thought of ten years of deceit, combined with the despair of my past life, brought tears to my eyes, silent and unbidden. Chloe, who had been gushing with envy, instantly panicked. “What? Why are you crying? Are you not feeling well, or are these tears of joy…?” “Or did that son of a bitch Julian Thorne upset you? No, that can’t be right, he’s always so good to you. But if he did dare, I’ll hire someone to teach him a lesson! Don’t cry, Evie, please!” Chloe’s words jolted me back to reality. A tidal wave of hatred threatened to drown me; I wanted nothing more than to rip that despicable pair apart right then and there. No, I couldn’t cry. I wiped my tears away. I would make every single person who had ever wronged me pay, tenfold. Since fate had given me a second chance, I would make sure that wicked man, that vile woman, and their child, all paid the ultimate price. 2. “Oh, new tea house opening today? What a joyous occasion, yet someone’s crying. Talk about bad vibes!” A woman waltzed in, cradling a visibly swollen belly. Her face was perfectly made up, her hair meticulously styled – every detail screamed of wealth, accumulated through someone else’s pockets. Seeing that face, so familiar and utterly loathsome, I trembled with hatred. It took every ounce of my willpower to stop myself from lunging at her, from tearing her to pieces. My grip tightened unconsciously. The pink snake on my wrist slithered a little higher. Suddenly, a child shrieked with delight, rushing towards me. “Mommy, I think I saw that bracelet move! It’s pink and so pretty! I want it for you!” The woman smiled sweetly at me, a mix of feigned helplessness and outright gloating. “This boy, he’s just like his father, always wanting to give me all the good things he sees. My closet is already overflowing.” “I wonder, madam, if you’d be willing to part with it? I’m happy to pay double the price.” I lowered my gaze, masking the cold fury in my eyes. Listening to her smug words, I spoke calmly. “I know all the established ladies in this city’s social circles, but you? You’re a nobody.” “And who are you to even suggest a price with me?” My gaze swept over her, filled with disdain. “You might wear expensive clothes, but you’re clearly not one of us. You have no class.” I implied she was just a kept woman, hidden away in shame. Her face turned instantly ashen. The child, seeing his mother upset, whined and reached out to grab my bracelet. I instinctively pushed him away. He landed on his bottom, howling. The woman bristled, her eyes burning with resentment as she glared at me. Then, a sly smile crept onto her lips. She stared at a tea cup, her words laced with hidden meaning. “This new tea house, what an enchanting name, ‘Sweetheart’s Sanctuary.’ Just hearing it brings such joy.” “Such a wonderful place, of course, everyone wants a piece of it.” “But wanting it doesn’t make it yours. After all… some things, they look like they’re yours, but they might not be.” She reached out, attempting to touch the snake on my wrist. “Just like this bracelet…” “Ah!” Her sentence was cut short by a piercing shriek. Her eyes were fixed on the snake, which had reared its head, and she trembled uncontrollably. Seeing her fear, a secret thrill pulsed through me. I patted the snake’s head and uttered two chilling words. “Bite her!” The snake darted forward, striking her neck, sinking its fangs in and leaving two distinct marks. The woman froze, too terrified to move. I spoke with satisfaction. “Be careful. This snake… it’s venomous.” No sooner had the words left my lips than her eyes rolled back. She fainted from fright. Her body hit the floor with a heavy thud, and slowly, a dark, crimson stain began to spread beneath her. Seeing the child just screaming, frozen in terror, I rose to leave. It seemed it was time to contact my father. 3 I was born prematurely. My mother’s health was fragile, and she passed away shortly after giving birth to me. My father adored my mother, and he cherished me, this precious jewel she left behind, above all else. Unfortunately, when I was very young, my father had just taken over the family empire; his position was still precarious, surrounded by ambitious vipers who sought to harm me and cripple him. Fearing for my safety, my father publicly declared me missing but actually sent me to a different city, anonymously building up the ‘Hayes’ enterprises as my cover. So the entire Hayes Corporation existed solely to protect and care for me. Later, as I grew older and my father’s power was solidified, he planned to bring me back to the capital. But by then, I had already met Julian Thorne. The first time we met, I was having my period. I hadn’t calculated the date correctly and hadn’t noticed my pants were stained. It was Julian who, blushing furiously, came to my aid. He lent me his school jacket, bought me tampons, and awkwardly asked another girl to bring them to me in the restroom. And that girl? The same one who’d later become his mistress, Brittany, who rudely scoffed, “Freak!” When I thanked him later, he simply said it was a normal thing for girls, and he couldn’t stand to see me embarrassed, so helping wasn’t a bother. Back in school, when boys still thought it was funny to snatch tampons and tease girls, his kindness shone like a beacon. But it was all a lie. I still remember every word of his humiliation, as he trampled on my dignity, declaring how utterly sick he was of ‘serving’ me. “Everyone around you says I got my start because of you. Bullshit! I got where I am today through my own strength.” “Your Hayes Corporation is crumbling. The fact that I’m keeping you fed and housed for a few years is out of charity, not obligation. You think I’m still going to be your devoted slave, waiting on you hand and foot?” His face had been contorted with rage, and the woman beside him glowed with malicious satisfaction. “If it weren’t for you, Julian and I wouldn’t have to hide our love. He loves me. I’m the one who should be his wife!” They spoke as if they were the wronged parties, conveniently forgetting that everything they ate, wore, and enjoyed, everything they had, was piled high by my Hayes legacy. Later, they completely rebranded the Hayes Corporation under the Thorne name. And I, I died a miserable death in utter despair. Now, remembering Julian’s claim of self-made success, I scoffed. Men like him, who climb the social ladder on someone else’s back, always love to claim it was all their own doing. Did he ever stop to think what he actually climbed with? Was it his baseless insecurity, or the countless times I had to quietly bail him out when his schemes fell apart? Without me, what was Julian Thorne? Nothing. 4 Taking Chloe with me, I furiously maxed out Julian Thorne’s credit cards, buying a mountain of things. As expected, he was waiting at home when I arrived, his face a thundercloud. “What in God’s name did you buy that cost so much? I just bought you a tea house, and now you’re suddenly so materialistic, Evelyn?” Hearing that, I couldn’t help but sneer inwardly. He’d played the part for so long, he actually believed his own lies. How dare he claim that tea house was his gift to me? There was no contract, the tea house wasn’t even in my name. Just an ambiguous name that had sweetened my foolish past self into a sugary delusion. I was so stupid. But then again, he was such a brilliant actor. Every time my period came, he’d worry about my cramps, afraid I’d be in a bad mood, and find endless ways to cheer me up. He remembered every single anniversary, for ten years straight, always with a new surprise. Fireworks lighting up an entire city, just for me. City-wide declarations of his love. An entire estate transformed into a sea of roses. The latest designer bags displayed in a prominent cabinet, along with jewels and diamond rings. And anything, anything I merely mentioned wanting, he would pursue relentlessly, no matter the cost. Back then, I truly believed I was the happiest woman on earth. But now, I knew. He played the devoted husband while sleeping with other women, cursing me to die sooner. I suppressed the hatred churning inside me, repeating to myself: Not yet. It’s not time yet. Julian, seeing my silence, grew angrier. “And that tea house just opened today, and you nearly caused a pregnant woman to miscarry! Do you have any idea how much that impacts our business?” “Evelyn Hayes, I can spoil you, but haven’t you gone too far?!” “This Hayes Corporation is my domain now. I’m still supporting you out of my benevolence, but you don’t appreciate it. It seems you need a lesson.” His mistress’s near-miscarriage had made him lose all reason. Coupled with his recent takeover of the Hayes Corporation, he clearly thought I had no backing, that I was completely at his mercy. So he didn’t even bother pretending anymore. “Evelyn! Answer me!” I sneered, meeting his bloodshot eyes with a slow, unhurried smile. “Are you worried about the tea house, or that mother and child?” “The child in her belly isn’t yours. She barged into my private room, yelling at me, and fell by herself. What does that have to do with me? And you’re here, blaming your wife on her behalf?” His bluster faltered instantly, his anger vanishing. Then, remembering something else, he raged again. “She fell herself? Then what about those snake bite marks on her neck?” “That lowly pet is dangerous! Hand it over, I’ll have it put down!” His eyes burned with hatred, as if he wanted to tear me limb from limb right along with the snake. I pretended not to notice, humming softly as I stroked the pink-white snake on my wrist. I spoke languidly. “Julian Thorne, don’t change too quickly.” “Don’t forget you just started taking over the Hayes Corporation, and my name is Evelyn Hayes. One word from me, and it doesn’t matter who you replace; the entire company will still listen to me.” My calm threat, devoid of any overt malice, made Julian’s face change. He glared at me, as if he couldn’t believe the Hayes empire, which he thought was in his grasp, could be so easily lost because of me. But he didn’t dare say more, only cast a look of disgust my way. “Evelyn, your spoiled, willful attitude truly sickens me.” I leaned back on the sofa, calling for my bodyguards. The team of bodyguards I’d requested from my father had just arrived, specifically to help me “play” with Julian. “Keep an eye on him and that woman.” 5 According to my bodyguards, Julian’s mistress, Brittany, was furious that I hadn’t been punished. For days, she’d been nagging Julian to let her move into our home and “deal with” me. Julian, weak-willed as always, crumbled under her charm and agreed to everything. So, he came home early one morning, telling me he was bringing someone to live with us. “She’s a neighbor’s sister I grew up with. Get a guest room ready for her.” He spoke in a rush, giving me no chance to argue. Since our last confrontation, he couldn’t even be bothered to pretend anymore. He even tightened his control over the company, indulging Brittany’s move to “teach me a lesson.” In my previous life, Brittany had also suggested moving in. Through soft pleas and persistent nagging, she’d convinced Julian – who hadn’t yet revealed his true colors – to let her stay. At the time, Julian described her situation as so pathetic: abused by her original family, then by her husband, a divorced woman with a child. My heart softened, and I welcomed her. Only to discover she was the same woman who’d caused trouble at the tea house. I was ready to send her away, but Julian held me close and coaxed me for a long time. I, ever the empath, pitied a woman who had endured so much, thinking her skewed mindset was a result of her trauma. Coupled with my gentle nature in the previous life, I didn’t push back, making their mother-son act seem subtle and preventing me from truly suspecting Julian. Simply put, Julian was too good at pretending, and I trusted him too much. Now, thinking back, I wondered how many times they’d been intimate in this very house behind my back. Truly disgusting! I lazily turned on the TV, calculating that Julian should have arrived at the office by now. Today, there was quite a show to watch. I’d specifically instructed my bodyguards to record it all so I could enjoy it from the comfort of my home. 6 On the video, Julian was strutting, boasting about the progress of his new project. He painted a grand vision, a future full of success.

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Brandon was on a private yacht vacation with his mistress when a tsunami hit. Rescue workers searched for three days and three nights, finally recovering half of his remains. In his clenched palm was a diamond ring. They said he was about to propose to his beloved before the tsunami struck. But apart from his body, no other woman was found at the scene. Until I, his legal wife, arrived after hearing the news. When I went to handle Brandon’s funeral arrangements, I saw his ghost standing to the side. I didn’t cry. I didn’t even ask anyone to prepare his body. That severed half of him was bloated and white from the water, unrecognizable. Only the ring clutched in his palm glittered harshly under the stark white lights. A staff member asked, “Would you like us to remove it?” I shook my head. “No need. Let him keep his keepsake.” It wasn’t for me anyway. The procedures were handled quickly. I chose the fastest crematorium, the cheapest package, and skipped all the farewell ceremonies. Brandon’s ghost hovered beside me, watching his body being pushed into the raging fire. His translucent form trembled like a leaf in the wind. “Stella, you venomous bitch! Is this how you treat me?” I ignored him and walked to the urn display area. A sales assistant eagerly approached me, gesturing to rows of polished mahogany and marble urns. “Mrs. Stone, my condolences. Look at this model, it’s our finest. It has good feng shui, blesses future generations, keeps warm in winter and cool in summer…” Brandon’s ghost immediately floated over, circling the most expensive mahogany urn. “I want this one, Stella, do you hear me? I want this one!” “I’ve never lived in such a cheap place my whole life. You can’t mistreat me even after I die!” I looked at the long string of zeros on the price tag and asked the sales assistant expressionlessly, “Do you have anything cheaper?” The sales assistant’s smile froze. Brandon’s ghost was stunned too. “Like, something free,” I added. The sales assistant awkwardly pulled out a bare wooden box from the bottom corner, whispering, “According to regulations, cremation comes with a basic urn, which is this one.” It looked like a shoddy cardboard box. Brandon was furious. “Stella, you wouldn’t dare!” “You didn’t mind the cost when you spent my money! Now that I’m dead, you can’t even buy me a proper box?” “You cold-hearted snake!” I stared at the free wooden box, seriously considering it for a few seconds. Then, I told the sales assistant, “I don’t need the box. A sturdy bag will do.” After all, a box would just take up space. A bag was easier.

Clutching that freshly cremated, still warm bag of ashes, I walked out of the crematorium. Brandon’s ghost trailed behind me, like a persistent phantom. His curses hadn’t stopped the entire way. “Stella, may you rot in hell!” “I must have been blind to marry a woman like you. You’re not even worth a single strand of Chloe’s hair!” “You’re old and ugly, and your personality is so vile. No wonder I never wanted to come home!” I opened the car door and tossed the bag of ashes onto the passenger seat. Brandon’s ghost tried to sit inside but passed straight through, stumbling. He was now just an intangible mass of energy, unable to touch anything. This made him even more agitated. He floated outside the car window, flailing at me. “Do you think the company is yours now that I’m dead? I already made a will. Everything I own goes to Chloe! You won’t get a single cent!” I started the car, my expression unchanging, and turned on the stereo. Deafening rock music instantly drowned out his screams. As the car sped onto the highway, I rolled down the window. The wind rushed in, making my hair whip around. Brandon’s ghost was blown haphazardly by the wind, like a torn kite. He was still cursing. Accusing me of being cold and heartless, saying I’d been wishing for his death all along. He wasn’t wrong. I had wished for his death every single day. I just never expected it to come so soon, and with such satisfying finality. Back at our sprawling, empty villa, I tossed the bag of ashes onto the console table by the entrance and went straight upstairs for a shower. Hot water washed over my body. I closed my eyes, feeling the fatigue of the past few days melt away. Brandon’s ghost passed through the bathroom door, hovering above the bathtub, glaring down at me. “Stella, you’re in the mood for a shower? Are you really that happy to see me dead?” I opened my eyes and looked at him calmly through the rising steam. It was the first time I’d truly looked at him since his death. “Yes,” I said. “Very happy.” “You!” His ghost trembled with rage. “You bitch!” “Where’s Chloe? My Chloe? Where is she? She must be heartbroken, she loved me so much… Where have you hidden her?” He finally got to the point. I turned off the shower, dried myself, and slowly put on my robe. Throughout the entire process, Brandon’s ghost shrieked, cursed, and demanded Chloe’s whereabouts. He firmly believed that his beloved girl must be devastated by his loss.

I walked out of the bathroom, picked up the bag of ashes from the console table, poured a glass of red wine, and sat on the living room sofa. Brandon’s ghost impatiently floated back and forth in front of me. “Stella, speak! Where is Chloe?” “Did you hurt her? You wicked woman are capable of anything!” I swirled the red wine in my glass, the crimson liquid forming elegant arcs against the crystal. I chuckled softly. “Brandon, do you really think Chloe would die for you?” “Of course she would!” he roared without thinking. “She loved me more than anything! We were true love! Not like you, you only loved my money!” “Is that so?” I put down my wine glass, opened my phone, and played a video. The video footage was a bit shaky, clearly taken secretly. The background showed the clear blue sea and sky, along with the yacht Brandon had bought for Chloe, named “My Beloved Chloe.” In the video, a few hours before the tsunami hit, a private helicopter landed steadily on the yacht’s helipad. Chloe, wearing a bikini, intimately linked arms with a man younger and more handsome than Brandon, and boarded the helicopter. She even looked back, towards the yacht, a bright, scornful smile on her face. There wasn’t a hint of reluctance in that smile. “See?” I turned the phone screen towards Brandon’s direction. “Before the tsunami came, your little mistress was picked up by another man.” “When she left, the weather was clear, and the sea was calm.” “She left you alone, along with your ‘true love,’ on that boat.”

Brandon’s ghost stared intently at the phone screen. For the first time, a bewildered, fractured expression appeared on his translucent face. “No… impossible…” “This is fake! You fabricated it!” He lunged at me, but again passed straight through my body. He screamed in despair, “You’re lying! Chloe isn’t like that, she’s pure and kind, she said she’d only ever love me!” I retrieved my phone and took a sip of red wine. “Brandon, you’re truly pathetic.” “You thought you found pure, untainted love. In reality, you were just another fish in her pond.” “And one that was about to be discarded.” I leaned back on the sofa, watching him with calm composure. “Do you know who the man who picked her up was? Dylan Stone, the young heir of the Stone Group, just returned from overseas. Richer than you, younger than you, and more capable of making her a huge star.” “And you, a man nearing forty, whose career is starting to decline, and who can’t even get a divorce because of me—what advantages do you think you have?” “You’re lying! You’re talking nonsense!” Brandon roared wildly, beginning to belittle me, something he excelled at during our ten years of marriage. “Stella, you’re just jealous! You’re jealous Chloe is younger and prettier than you, jealous that I love her and not you!” “Look at yourself now, you look like a bitter old wife! No wonder I didn’t even want to touch you!” “Chloe is different, she’s so wonderful, so innocent. Her eyes were full of adoration and love for me! She willingly endured the pain of not having a title just for me!” “She said, once I divorced you, she’d have my child!” He spoke with such sincerity, trying to convince me, and himself. I listened to his grating words, my heart completely unmoved. I’d heard such things too many times in the past. Now, I just found it noisy. “Are you done?” I asked. He froze. I stood up, picking up the bag of ashes. “Since your Chloe is so amazing,” I said with a smile, walking towards the back door, “then you should know she’s currently at a celebration party Dylan Stone is throwing for her, celebrating landing a major international endorsement.” “And you,” I paused, “you don’t even qualify for a black and white memorial photo on her Ins.” Brandon’s ghost completely stiffened. He watched me push open the back door and walk towards the septic tank in the corner. He seemed to sense something, his ghost trembling more violently than ever.

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