Author: Momo Chan

My husband and his mistress went hiking deep in the mountains one night, only to tragically fall off a cliff. By the time I rushed to the hospital, he was unconscious, being wheeled into surgery. The doctor asked me about the resuscitation plan, and I sobbed, screaming, “I’ll spend every last dime! He *has* to live!” Jasmine arrived at the hospital, holding a child and clutching a will, ready to dispute the inheritance with me. “The law states that illegitimate children have inheritance rights. And I have Liam’s will right here. It says 90% of his assets go to my son! Besides the will, you’ll also have to pay me child support every month!” I pointed at my husband, lying paralyzed and speechless from a stroke on the bed. “You said it yourself, it’s a will. Come back when my husband is actually dead.” I got the call about Liam being rushed to the hospital. I was busy investigating and liquidating Liam’s assets, calculating how much I’d get if he cheated and we divorced. Liam was a senior executive at a top tech firm, worth hundreds of millions. When I heard he was cheating, I was ecstatic. When the hospital called, I was over the moon. All his assets would finally be mine. But I never expected Jasmine to block me at the emergency room door, holding a child and a will. “Your husband left a will, and he left all his money to my son.” I glanced at the child in Jasmine’s arms, who looked exactly like Liam. Then I sprinted to the operating room entrance and burst into tears. “Liam, I’m here! You have to pull through!” The doctor rushed up to me, urgently asking for my decision. “You’re the family, right? The patient has severe brain damage. Even if he survives, he might be bedridden for life. The rescue costs and subsequent nursing fees will be incredibly high. Please consider it. We respect the family’s wishes.” I snatched the pen and papers from the doctor’s hand without hesitation: “Please! You *must* save my husband’s life! I’ll lose everything, I don’t care!” The doctor started to say something else, but I boldly signed my name with a flourish. I declared, my voice firm: “Spend whatever it takes! I’ll take care of him for the rest of my life!” The doctor nodded, clearly moved, and quickly turned back into the operating room. Jasmine, holding her child beside me, sneered: “I never realized you were so deeply in love with Liam! What a pity, he loved *me*.” I shot her a glare, my gaze fixed on the closed operating room door. Thankfully, Liam was eventually saved. Thank goodness. He was paralyzed in bed, unable to move anything but his eyeballs. He’d need lifelong care. Seeing Liam in such a state, Jasmine could only negotiate with me. “Liam and I were true love. We even had a child. How about this: you give me twenty million dollars, and I’ll disappear. We’ll consider the will void.” I chuckled, looking at Jasmine: “What Liam and you being ‘true love’ has to do with me? I’m his wife of ten years. Who are you to demand anything? Twenty million? Go look in a mirror. You’re not even worth two bucks!” Jasmine tossed the will onto Liam’s bed, speaking imperiously. “Liam’s will is right here. It says he’s leaving ninety percent of his money to our son. I’m only asking for twenty million now, and you won’t even give that? Don’t wait until Liam dies to regret it.” I rolled my eyes at Jasmine, who was still spouting about “true love.” “If it’s true love, why are you so eager for him to die? You said it yourself, it’s a will. Come back when it can actually be enforced.” 0

The next day, I approached the attending physician, my eyes brimming with tears. “I’m planning to take Liam home. Mainly, the rescue operation cost us a fortune. I simply can’t afford the rehabilitation expenses anymore, so I’ll just do his rehabilitation at home.” “Ms. Hayes, please don’t give up. Our hospital has a fund for low-income families. Seeing how much you love your husband, if you fill out a few application forms, I’d be willing to help you apply.” I quickly hugged the doctor, sobbing uncontrollably. “Even if we get the fund, my family still has to pay a portion. We’ve already incurred so much debt to save him. My mother-in-law is currently picking up discarded items on the streets to earn money. I just can’t bring myself to accept it.” “Let’s leave the fund for those who need it more. Doctor, please believe me, I’ll do a good job with Liam’s rehabilitation at home.” Seeing my determination, the doctor didn’t press further. As she left, she secretly slipped me a sandwich. When I discharged my husband, I submitted a 10,000-word thank-you letter, explicitly naming and praising this doctor’s department. I also, as an anonymous benefactor, donated one hundred thousand dollars to the hospital’s fund. After leaving the hospital, I took Liam to a small rehabilitation center. This was a place I’d scouted through many options before settling on. The specialty here? No one ever actually *dies*. I employed the same tactic, bursting into tears and clinging to the doctor. “We don’t have money, but I want the best possible treatment for my husband. Can you just try to keep him alive for now? I’ll go earn money. Once I’ve saved enough, I promise to get him the most expensive treatment.” The doctor pushed me away with a look of distaste. “We’ll do our best.” With that, she instructed a nurse to arrange a triple room for Liam. I peered through the window at the room’s conditions. Perfect. Dilapidated and dirty, with loud nurses. Exactly what Liam would *love*. After settling Liam, my next step was to quickly get my share of the assets.

I had already investigated his assets when he cheated before. I knew all his liquid and fixed assets like the back of my hand, and I’d secretly memorized all his passwords. So, the first thing I did when I got home was open his phone, log into his stock account, and transfer thirty to forty million dollars in batches to his card. Then, I took his card and flew all over the world, swiping it to buy limited-edition designer bags. I happily bought dozens of bags, each worth hundreds of thousands. I was swiping his card for the very last bag in Dubai when my mother-in-law, Mrs. Hayes, called. Liam usually had a distant relationship with her and was always busy, so she hadn’t suspected anything when she couldn’t reach him, only finding out about his accident two weeks later. Mrs. Hayes arrived at the perfect time. The liquid assets were handled; now it was time for the properties. Thinking this, I quickly flew back home, removed my makeup, and waited for her to arrive. Sure enough, she cried endlessly on my shoulder, tears and snot streaming down her face. To be honest, Liam was a decent person, but he inherited many terrible genes from his parents. Like selfishness, like infidelity. I always thought it was genetic. His mother, who was once a victim herself, an independent woman who decisively divorced her cheating husband, when it came to her son, she’d spout nonsense like, ‘Men need multiple wives to spread their lineage,’ and ‘His cheating just proves how charming my son is.’ She even instructed her son to hit me if I didn’t comply. I suppressed my disgust and handed Mrs. Hayes a tissue: “I didn’t tell you before because I didn’t want you to worry. I’ve already found Liam the best rehab center; he’ll definitely get better.” Mrs. Hayes immediately stopped crying: “Where’s my son? Where is my son?” I quickly forced a smile and said, “Didn’t I tell you he’s at the rehab center? Why don’t you go home for now, and I’ll take you to see him when I have a chance.” “No! I want to see my son today! My son!” she cried, grabbing at me and beating her chest. I rolled my eyes in exasperation and took her to see Liam. Walking into the triple room, Mrs. Hayes’s anger was practically overflowing. She started hitting me: “This is what you call the best rehab center? The conditions are terrible, and it’s a shared room! Quickly, spend money and get him a better place.” I pretended to be wronged, speaking softly: “I don’t even know anything about his money; he probably gave it all to his mistress. The hundreds of thousands for this rescue were borrowed from everywhere.” “Besides, his accident happened because he was playing in the mountains with his mistress and lost his footing.” Mrs. Hayes’s eyes widened, her face changing color several times. “That’s because you’re too difficult! If you hadn’t neglected him, would he have run off to the mountains? It’s all your fault! Give me back my son!” “I want the best, most expensive room! I don’t care; you need to change my son’s room right now!” I rolled my eyes, speechless. The nurse heard the commotion and came in to check. “What’s all the shouting about? If you want to shout, take it outside!” Mrs. Hayes grabbed the nurse’s hand. “When will my son get better? Please, help him. Get him the best room, and get the money from this woman!” The nurse looked at me, bewildered. I shook my head and pointed to my temple, and she instantly understood, pushing Mrs. Hayes away and leaving the room. “Mrs. Hayes, the doctor said the best care comes from family. How about you take Liam home and look after him yourself?” Mrs. Hayes froze for a moment, then immediately put her hands on her hips and pouted at me. “You want me to take care of him at my age?! Do you have any conscience?!” “Since the doctor said he needs family care, you should take Liam home immediately. Don’t think about being lazy and just leaving him here. You’re his wife; you *must* take care of him.” “Fine!” Mrs. Hayes didn’t expect me to agree so quickly and looked somewhat incredulous. In front of her, I called the property manager of our upscale apartment complex, asking them to send a car and staff to bring Liam home. Mrs. Hayes thought I was up to some trick and watched me the entire time. But she didn’t realize I was acting gentle and meticulous throughout. The property manager saw everything and was deeply moved by me. “I never knew you and Mr. Hayes had such deep feelings. To still be willing to care for him after he’s paralyzed, I truly admire you.” I lowered my head and smiled gently: “We’re husband and wife; we always vowed to go through thick and thin together. Now that he’s in trouble, I have to support him.” The young property manager looked at me with even more reverence after hearing my words. Mrs. Hayes, seeing that I had genuinely brought Liam home, put her hands on her hips and rolled her eyes at me. “Take good care of my son. If even a single strand of his hair falls out, I’ll call the police and accuse you of murder.” I ignored her warning, instead tucking my husband’s blanket in. “Mrs. Hayes, I need to care for Liam. Could you help with dinner?” Hearing this, Mrs. Hayes grabbed her bag and scurried away without a backward glance, clearly afraid of doing any work. I looked at Liam, eyes closed, and couldn’t help but let out a soft chuckle. *That’s your mother. Your selfish mother.* But thanks to her selfishness, everything fell into place for me.

A week later, I went to the property manager’s office with a red envelope. She greeted me with a wide smile and pulled out a chair for me. I looked slightly troubled, discreetly slipped the red envelope into her bag, and spoke in a hoarse, weary voice. “You know what happened to Liam. The doctors said if he rehabilitates well, there’s still a chance. So, I plan to take him abroad.” “I want to sell the house, but you know Liam is the owner. I’d have to go through court to sell it. Could you help me get a certificate?” The young woman didn’t hesitate to issue the certificate for me, stamping it. She even helped me get a certificate from the community office. I held Liam’s medical records and hospital certificate in one hand, and the primary caregiver certificate in the other. The court ruling came quickly. The real estate agent was even faster. Within a month, all procedures were completed. The downtown penthouse and the suburban villa were all sold. Seventy to eighty million dollars were transferred to my account. But before I could even celebrate, Mrs. Hayes came knocking. Mrs. Hayes, along with Derek, my brother-in-law, and a group of burly men, blocked my door, preventing me from moving. “You actually dared to sell the house! It’s in his name! How did you even sell it?!” Thankfully, Liam didn’t trust anyone. Besides this house, he hadn’t told anyone about his other properties, not even his mother. I quickly shed two tears, sobbing aggrievedly. “I sold this house to pay for Liam’s medical treatment. I was hoping to take him abroad to try and find a solution. How else would I get the money without selling the house?” Mrs. Hayes, hands on her hips, angrily cursed, disbelievingly. “I don’t believe a word you say! You’d love for him to die, with all the mistresses he kept! And you want to save his life?!” Mrs. Hayes had inadvertently hit on my true feelings. Derek snorted: “He’s my brother; he doesn’t need *your* help. Hand over the money from the house sale, and we’ll save him ourselves.” I rolled my eyes to the heavens: “Where were you when he needed care and money? Now that there’s money, you suddenly show up. If I give you the money, who knows if you’ll just abandon his treatment?” Mrs. Hayes trembled with rage and rushed at me: “He’s my son! What are you trying to do by monopolizing him? Give me the money!” I quickly stepped back, as if suddenly remembering something: “I know Liam has another house!” “I’ve already paid the money from this sale to an overseas hospital; here’s the receipt. Why don’t you go get that other house? You can sell it, and I won’t take a single cent.” Derek snatched the papers I held out, looking them over. They were all in English; I knew they wouldn’t understand. I quickly changed the subject and continued. “Your brother bought a villa, probably worth five or six million. Jasmine is living in it now.” “He bought it with marital assets, so Jasmine has no right to live there. Just go reclaim it.” Derek’s eyes clearly lit up at this: “Are you serious?” “Your mother has met Jasmine. Just go to that address, and you’ll know if it’s true.” “I’m not leaving. You can send anyone to watch this place; if I’m lying, you can do whatever you want with me.” Derek heard this, stroked his chin, and eyed me up and down. Mrs. Hayes slapped Derek’s back: “Your brother isn’t dead yet!” “What’s the difference between him and dead? He might as well be dead!” “…” With a family like this, Liam truly had no hope of survival.

Derek was efficient. He blocked Jasmine at the villa that very day. “You’re Jasmine? Pack your bags. This is my brother’s house; we’re taking it back.” Jasmine had only heard that Liam’s younger brother was a scoundrel but never expected him to be such an animal, actually trying to seize the house. Jasmine gave him an impolite glare. “Who are you to say? Liam bought this for me. What does it have to do with you?!” “You good-for-nothing thug, get lost! You’re disgusting me!” Derek got angry hearing this, grabbed Jasmine’s hair, and slapped her twice across the face. “You b*tch! How dare you curse at me? Who do you think you are? My sister-in-law is sitting pretty at home!” Jasmine bit Derek’s shoulder. “You won’t get the house, and you won’t get the money! Your brother already made a will. Once he dies, the house and money all go to my son!” Derek visibly froze: “A will? A son? What do you mean?” “What do I mean? It means your brother never planned to leave you a single cent. He wrote a will leaving all his assets to my son.” “Your sister-in-law is a barren woman; I helped your family carry on the lineage, you should be thanking me!” Derek, usually arrogant, was speechless for the first time. In one swift move, he grabbed Jasmine’s hair and dragged her onto the main street. “You cheap mistress, acting so self-righteous? Everyone, come on, take pictures, look! Look at this mistress’s wretched face!” The onlookers, drawn to the drama, started filming with their phones. Jasmine covered her face and tried to run. Derek yanked her back, tearing her white dress. Exposing half of her butt. “Why are you running? Are you afraid people will know you’re a mistress, Jasmine?” Jasmine’s name was out in the open. She couldn’t care less about anything else. She lunged forward and bit Derek’s arm, holding on for dear life. Derek screamed in pain, pushing her to the ground and slapping her. Their battle intensified. The crowd, watching the spectacle, filmed with their phones and whispered. “I heard this woman raised her child alone every day; I used to feel sorry for her, but she’s a mistress?” “She looks decent, but it turns out she’s nothing but trash!” I watched the video sent by my close friend from the front lines on my phone, laughing uncontrollably at home. Jasmine didn’t return for a long time. Her nanny, fearing something had happened, came out with the child to check. The child looked so much like Liam that Derek recognized him at a glance. He snatched the child and held him high above his head. “You said my brother left all his money to your son? What if he dies?” Jasmine, seeing this, lunged at Derek like a madwoman, frantic and helpless. “Please, please give me the child!” Derek sneered, holding the child even higher. The child’s cries attracted more people. Mrs. Hayes, watching from the crowd, quickly tugged at Derek’s sleeve. “Quick, put the child down! He’s your brother’s child after all!” “Besides, so many people are watching! Hurry up! Hurry up!” Derek impatiently shoved Mrs. Hayes away and pointed at Jasmine. “Three days! If you don’t move out, I’ll kill your son! Let’s see what you’ll inherit from my brother’s estate if your son is dead!” With that, he tossed the child high into the air towards Jasmine. Jasmine visibly froze at Derek’s words. At the moment the child fell, she actually missed him. The child accidentally rolled onto the ground, crying even more heartbreakingly. Seeing this, Derek quickly waved his hand. “You missed catching him! It has nothing to do with me.” With that, he quickly ran into the crowd and disappeared. I hung up the video call, lay on the sofa, rubbed my eyes, and mumbled to myself. “Dog eat dog. What a show.” 0

I heard Jasmine’s child hit his head and needed surgery. Mrs. Hayes had no time for me now, only for her grandchild. I used this opportunity to quickly establish a transnational trading company and found a specialized financial agent. Just as I thought everything was going smoothly, I received a call from Liam’s company. They asked me to return the money. The 800,000 dollars in humanitarian compensation the company had given when Liam had his accident. I rushed to Liam’s company, bewildered. There I saw Mrs. Hayes, Jasmine, and the child protesting with signs in front of the company building, demanding compensation. The security guards dared not touch the old woman, the child, or the woman, so they could only try their best to hold them back. Liam, as a senior executive at a large company, already had a certain reputation. This protest made it common knowledge that he had cheated and had a son. When I arrived, Jasmine was wailing and crying. “My husband dedicated himself to this company for over a decade, and now his son is sick and needs money. Are you capitalists really so cold-blooded?” Mrs. Hayes chimed in beside her. “My son collapsed because he worked himself to death for you, and now he’s lying at home in a vegetative state! We demand compensation! Compensation!” The company’s PR manager was constantly trying to placate them, offering them water, and inviting them inside. They completely ignored him, continuing to wail and cry, pouring out their grievances to the cameras of passersby. They were leveraging the company’s fear of negative publicity affecting its stock price, framing themselves as the vulnerable party against a powerful corporation to gain public sympathy. Seeing this, I smiled, pulled out a megaphone, and yelled at Jasmine, who was still wailing. “Which shrew is out here impersonating me and cursing on the street?” “I am Liam’s legal wife. May I ask who you are?” Jasmine’s eyes, full of hatred, were clear for all to see when she saw me. I gave Jasmine two quick slaps, catching her off guard. “It’s not shameful to extort money for your child, but don’t use my name. The company has been more than fair to Liam. He went messing around with his mistress and had an accident, and the company still paid out humanitarian aid.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “299169”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #现实主义Realistic

I was the only one in my family cursed—or blessed—with the ability to reset my life upon death. Even before I could properly talk, my mother would cover the grimy walls with lottery numbers written in charcoal, forcing me to memorize them. If I mispronounced or misremembered a number, my mother would take a needle and meticulously stitch the incorrect digits onto my arm, each jab a painful reminder, meant to “deepen my memory.” By the time I turned six, I had memorized every lottery number from every drawing since my birth. For the first time in my life, my father actually took me to town. He even bought me an ice cream, fulfilling a long-held wish. But it was also that day my father, beaming with an eerie excitement, led me to the edge of a desolate cliff. “Maya, you’ve enjoyed such a privileged life. Now it’s time to pay us back.” The next second, my father shoved me off the steep precipice. When I opened my eyes again, I had reset to my three-year-old self. My parents stood over me, their faces alight with eager anticipation. “Maya, what are today’s winning lottery numbers?”

Every ten generations, someone in our family inherits the ability to reset their life. I happened to be the tenth generation. So, my parents quit their jobs and stopped farming, focusing solely on having children. They had seven kids in total. Only when I was born did the ancient family heirloom, a book passed down for centuries, finally react, its pages shifting in color. That’s why, even when I was still babbling, my mother would use burnt-black charcoal to cover the mud walls with lottery numbers, teaching me to read and memorize them. But as a young child, I constantly struggled to remember. I’d mix up the numbers or get the dates wrong. At first, Mom didn’t hit me. But once I turned two, my mother, desperate for a better life, finally lost her patience and decided to punish me. Initially, she only used thin switches to whip my calves. The switch was thin and flexible, but when it cracked against my calves, it stung with an agonizing burn. However, as more and more lottery numbers accumulated, so did my mistakes. Mom assumed I wasn’t trying hard enough. She started hitting me with a stick as thick as her thumb and burning me with red-hot iron tongs. Back then, I didn’t understand. All I knew was to beg for mercy in my childish voice. “Mommy, I’m sorry, please don’t hit me anymore.” But this usually just infuriated her further. Her eyes, filled with a monstrous rage, burned holes through me. “I told you to memorize lottery numbers! Why are you spouting nonsense? Don’t you know talking ruins your focus? You’re so dumb, when will I ever get to live a good life?” That’s when she’d pull out her embroidery needle, stitching the incorrect numbers onto my arm as if I were a piece of cloth to be mended. Each pierce of the needle sent searing pain through me, but I didn’t dare cry or make a fuss. It wasn’t until Dad came home at night that I would finally burst into sobs. Then, Dad would pull me onto his lap. “Maya, don’t blame your mother. It’s because you’re so disobedient. If you just listened to your mother and memorized the lottery numbers, why would she use an embroidery needle on your arm? She’s doing it for your own good, to help you remember.” “You see how poor we are. The faster you memorize all the numbers, the sooner we can all live a good life.” Listening to the frantic beating of his heart, I, a young child, couldn’t understand why memorizing lottery numbers would make our whole family’s life better.

Besides hitting me and forcing me to memorize lottery numbers, Mom was actually quite kind to me in other ways. Since my parents never worked, our family usually only had potatoes to fill our stomachs. But I was the only one in our house who got to eat an egg every day. Because Mom said if I ate well, my memory would improve, and I’d memorize the lottery numbers faster. What’s more, even my three older brothers had chores, but I was exempt from everything. So, even though Mom hit me, I still thought she was the best mother in the world. Until one day, Grandma Martha came to visit. After Grandma Martha left, Mom pulled Dad into the bedroom. She said Grandma Martha had apparently told them I needed a “brain swap”—that only by changing my brain could I become smart. At the time, I had just had numbers stitched onto my arm by Mom, and it was still painful and itchy. I didn’t quite catch how one was supposed to “swap brains.” But I was willing to do it. I felt guilty for not being able to memorize the lottery numbers and preventing my parents from living a good life. So, that evening, when Dad said he was taking me to a special place, I eagerly followed him. On the way, to make Dad happy, I even excitedly recited lottery numbers. But I never expected Dad to take me to a graveyard. Before I could even figure out what was happening, Dad led me to an open coffin. Standing beside it was a dirty, disheveled old man. My dad pulled five hundred dollars from his pocket and handed it over. “This ‘brain swap’ you talked about, does it really work?” The old man, Silas, leered at me with a disgusting, knowing smirk, shaking his head and laughing. “Of course! The guy in that coffin? He was a genius, a top scholar in his day. If his family wasn’t out of town, who would dare dig up his grave in the middle of the night?” “Alright, have your daughter lie in there. Just three days with this genius scholar, and I guarantee you’ll have a smart daughter back.” Though I was young, I still understood the old man’s words. I turned to run, but Dad grabbed the back of my neck, holding me in a death grip. “Maya, what are you running from?” I stared in horror at my favorite dad. After a two-second stunned silence, I began to struggle violently. Because I had seen the face of the person lying in the coffin. To call him a “person” felt wrong. He was nothing but a collection of putrid, reeking bones. But Dad paid no attention to my cries and pleas. He roughly grabbed me and flung me into the coffin. I cried out, trying to scramble back out. Dad pressed my head down hard, and my body slammed back into the coffin. Finally, he coldly pushed the coffin lid shut, blocking out the last sliver of moonlight from the sky.

I stayed in that coffin for three days. For three days, I breathed in the stench of the decaying corpse, alternating between crying and throwing tantrums. But each time I cried and screamed, a bitter ache would settle in my chest. Because I realized that my parents didn’t seem to love me that much after all. This made me remember the rumors circulating in our village. People in the village said our family had seven children. But I only had three brothers. I had never met my three older sisters. The villagers whispered that my three sisters had been turned into “flowerpot girls” by Dad and sold off. I didn’t understand what a “flowerpot girl” was. How could a person turn into a flower? But I knew it couldn’t be anything good. And I also realized, with a terrifying jolt, that if I hadn’t inherited the family’s reset ability, would I also have been turned into a “flowerpot girl” and sold by Dad? Though I still didn’t really understand what the reset ability truly was. But thankfully, Dad finally let me out. The moment I saw the moonlight again, my whole body trembled. Silas, the old man, leered at me with a disgusting gaze. “Maya, will you be able to remember numbers well after this?” I looked at the terrifying, sinister smile on the old man’s face and nodded frantically. “I… I can.” Silas walked away toward Dad, looking satisfied. “This girl has a stubborn fate; she might need the ritual done again. Take her back and observe her. If it doesn’t work, come back to me.” My body trembled violently again, utterly terrified. I glanced in horror at the bones lying in the coffin. I swore I would never, ever come back here again.

When I got home, I developed a high fever. In my feverish sleep, I had many dreams. I dreamt of my three sisters, whom I had never met. They smiled and invited me to come play with them. I hesitated for a moment, then refused. Even though my parents were so cruel to me, I still didn’t want to leave them. I lay in bed for three days. When I finally opened my eyes again, Mom was lying beside me, looking utterly exhausted. Seeing me awake, she reached out and touched my forehead. The warmth of her palm seeped through my skin, reaching deep into my chest. At that moment, I thought, my mother must still love me. She just wanted a good life so badly that she hit me. Dad also reverted to his usual self. He would buy me chocolates, the kind only city kids could afford. Although I didn’t like them; they were too bitter. Still, I happily threw myself into Dad’s arms. It was from that moment on that I decided I had to properly memorize the lottery numbers. I didn’t want Dad and Mom to turn into those other versions of themselves again. And of course, I didn’t want to be sent back to that old man for another ritual. I don’t know how it happened, but ever since I made up my mind to memorize the lottery numbers well, my brain seemed to improve. From barely memorizing one set of numbers a day, I could now memorize three sets daily. Every time I exceeded my quota, Dad would gently stroke my head and praise me for being so good. Mom never hit me again. The tongs, the embroidery needle, and all those other things were put away. I was truly happy then. Time flew by, and I slowly grew older. I had firmly ingrained all the lottery numbers up to my sixth birthday in my mind. The day before I turned six, Dad gently ruffled my hair. “Maya, tomorrow is your birthday. What kind of present do you want?” My eyes lit up as I looked at him. “Ice cream, Dad! I want ice cream.” Dad chuckled, a simple, good-natured laugh, and nodded. “Alright.”

Early the next morning, Dad took me to town. It had an amusement park and all sorts of snack shops. This new world utterly amazed me. Dad even took me to a diner, ordering me sweet soy milk and delicious meat buns. I ate, my mouth smeared with oil. After breakfast, just as Dad was about to take me to leave, a man walked into the diner. He wore a coffee-colored jacket, his face grim, made even more intimidating by a long, jagged scar that seemed to pull at the corner of his eye, giving him a truly fearsome look. I instinctively shrank behind Dad, terrified. Once we were out of the diner, I fearfully asked Dad, “Dad, that man who just came in, he was really scary.” Dad replied with some impatience, “He’s a killer. If you dare make trouble again, I’ll let him chop you up and turn you into dinner.” My body trembled violently again, and I didn’t dare say another word. But a child’s world, no matter how terrifying the emotions, can be completely dispelled by something delicious. I was no exception. When Dad handed me the cheapest ice cream from the ice cream shop, I instantly forgot all about the killer. I never imagined the ice cream I’d fantasized about would taste so incredibly delicious. But what I didn’t know was that the ice cream in my hand would be the last sweet taste I would ever savor in this life. After I finished the ice cream, Dad prepared to take me home. That’s when I saw the “killer” from the morning again. He was sitting by the door next to the ice cream shop, smiling as he fed buns to a stray cat. I frowned, confused, looking at the smile on the man’s face. Dad said that man was a killer, didn’t he? But why was the killer so gentle when he was feeding a cat? My dad, whenever he saw a stray cat on the street, would always kick it away. Before I could figure it out, Dad’s impatient voice called from not far away. “Maya, what are you standing there for? Hurry up and get over here!” My body trembled violently, and I quickly ran after Dad. On the way home, I kept wanting to ask about the killer. But my father completely ignored me, rushing along hurriedly. Until Dad led me to the edge of a steep cliff. Looking down at the seemingly bottomless abyss, my body instinctively clutched the hem of Dad’s shirt. “Dad, why aren’t we going?” Dad knelt down in front of me. “Maya, have I been good to you?” Although I didn’t know why Dad was asking this, I nodded earnestly. “Dad has been very good to me.” A wide smile spread across Dad’s face. “Then are you willing to repay Dad?” “Yes, Dad.” The moment I finished speaking, my body suddenly hung suspended in the air. Dad had lifted me up. But before I could even scream, Dad threw me off the cliff. Along with the plummeting sensation came unstoppable tears. I never imagined my own father would kill me. Until my back slammed hard against a rock. I grunted, crying out loud. The intense pain radiating through my body made me instinctively grasp desperately at the wild grass growing nearby. I don’t know where I found such strength. But I knew I didn’t want to die. I wanted to live. I wanted to ask my father. Why he would do this to me. Just as I was about to scramble back to the cliff edge, Dad, who I thought had left, suddenly reappeared. He was smiling, a truly twisted and vicious grin. “You little brat, you’re tougher than I thought!” Before I could react, Dad powerfully kicked me in the head.

When I opened my eyes again, I was in a strange, yet familiar, room. The ceiling beam, just like in my previous life, was half broken. But the room was filled with many more appliances, even a television. For a few seconds, I couldn’t quite grasp what was happening. Until my parents, several years younger, excitedly spoke up. “Maya, you’re the Maya who reset, aren’t you?” I looked at their familiar, yet strangely unfamiliar, faces. The emotions I had suppressed for so long finally erupted. I wanted to confront Dad. Why had he been so cruel to me in my last life? I wanted to ask Mom. Had she known all along that Dad would throw me off the cliff? But I had barely cried for a moment before my sobs caught in my throat. Because my *new* dad was looking at me with frantic excitement. “She has to be the reset Maya! The original Maya was so dull, she wouldn’t even cry.” My new mom echoed his excitement, “I think so too! Wait here, I’ll go check that old book our ancestors left behind.” A moment later, my new mom ran back in. “There are words! The ancient book has words now! It says lottery!” My new dad instantly jumped up, ecstatic. “So, in the last life, I made Maya memorize lottery numbers? It must be true! If it were me, I’d definitely make Maya memorize lottery numbers.” I watched the two of them chat excitedly, my heart feeling like snowflakes fluttering in winter, a dense, sharp pain spreading through me. Their conversation was eerily similar to that day in my previous life when my parents discussed taking me to the graveyard. Perhaps my expression was too sad, because my new mom noticed my distress. She slapped my new dad, then bent down and wiped the tears from my cheeks. “Maya, don’t overthink it. Mommy and Daddy are just too happy.” My new dad also snapped back to reality. “Right, right, Maya! Dad just didn’t expect what the ancestors said to be true.” Through my watery eyes, I carefully scrutinized their expressions. But whether it was my imagination or not, I felt like their smiles were forced. Still, I timidly shook my head. “It’s okay.” Perhaps my obedient timidity lowered my new parents’ guard. My new dad looked at me, excited. “Maya, hurry up and tell us the lottery numbers now! Today’s the drawing! I’ll go to town before dark, and I can even wait there for the results. If Daddy wins, I’ll buy you delicious chocolates when I get back.” Hearing my new dad’s words, my heart tightened again. This dad, trying to coax me, sounded so much like my dad from the previous life. I finally told my new parents the lottery numbers. That very day, they took my brothers and left for town. I was tied by the neck with a rope to the bed at home.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “299168”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #现实主义Realistic

Working late into the night on a project, my phone’s smart home assistant suddenly popped up with an alert. [Master Bathroom Light On.] [Master Bath Scented Soak Mode Activated. Your luxurious bath awaits, Your Highness.] Neither Leo nor I were home. Maria, our housekeeper, was on vacation these past few days. So, who had turned on those appliances? After quickly checking the app again, I called Leo: “Leo, why didn’t you tell me you were coming home?” He sounded utterly confused: “Missing me already? But, babe, this project is super important. I won’t be able to make it home until tomorrow night at the earliest.” I rubbed my forehead, sighing: “Sorry, I must be swamped and got the dates mixed up. See you tomorrow night, Leo.” After hanging up, I stared at the smart home remote control app, only to see the master bedroom curtains suddenly close. I quickly sent a message to Maria and sped home. Thinking of those thrillers where the housekeeper turns out to be a thief, I tapped Maria’s contact again. The moment I accidentally pressed the dial button, I immediately hung up. Maria had been with us for over a decade, practically family, always looking out for me. She’d never do something like this. Arriving at the community gate, I rolled down my car window and spoke to Officer Miller, the security guard: “A friend of mine said they were coming to visit me earlier. Did you let them in?” He shook his head, looking puzzled: “Ms. Chloe, no visitors registered today. Are you sure you’re not mistaken?” I nodded slightly, forcing a smile: “Maybe they decided it was too far to come. Thanks for your hard work.” Just then, Maria FaceTimed me. She was at home with her elders and children. “Maria, I’ll send you an extra bonus this time, and please take a few more days off. Enjoy your time with your family.” After hanging up, my smile instantly vanished. Maria confirmed she wasn’t home. Could it really be an intruder? But why would a burglar use the bathtub? My car soon reached the villa entrance. Seeing the lights on in the master bedroom, my heart sank. Someone was definitely home. But who? I quietly opened the front door. Before I even turned on the lights, I noticed Leo’s slippers, clearly moved, in the moonlight. I distinctly remembered Leo leaving for his business trip a day before me. When I left, I had carefully placed our shoes side-by-side. Could this be one of those squatters you hear about in the news, sneaking into someone’s house because they can’t afford rent? Afraid they might get desperate and turn violent, I bit my lip and grabbed the stun gun hidden behind the door. However, just as I was trying to sneak upstairs to check, Leo, wrapped in a towel, stood at the second-floor hallway entrance and flipped on the downstairs lights. “Chloe, what are you doing back?” He wiped his hair, then saw the stun gun in my hand and clicked his tongue: “Still carrying that thing?” I let out a sigh of relief: “Just finished work and came home. Saw your shoes were moved, and I thought we had an intruder.” “Leo, you didn’t say you were coming home. You scared me half to death.” As I spoke, I suddenly realized something and looked at Leo’s face: “Wait, didn’t you say you wouldn’t be back until tomorrow night at the earliest?” Leo rushed down and pulled me into a hug: “I was, but you called, and I figured you missed me, so I hurried back.” “I even wanted to surprise you.” His surprised expression when he saw me was flawless, and his words were sweet. But as I inhaled his fresh scent, my heart grew even colder. The bathroom light had clearly been on for a while, Yet he said he had just gotten back. He was lying to me. The scented soak mode leaves a distinct fragrance, but he only smelled of his usual shower gel. Leo was lying to me, covering for someone who had just used my bathtub. He was cheating. I opened my phone and checked the bathtub’s usage end time. I was already at the front door by then. And we only had one entrance to our house, so the person who used my bathtub was still inside! I smiled, pushed Leo away, and headed upstairs. “Thanks, Leo. I’m tired. I’ll go freshen up first.” Leo opened the master bedroom door for me, looking for praise: “I heard you come in, and I knew it was you. See, I even drew a bath for you.” I walked into the bathroom and glanced at the electronic display nearby—Soak Mode. He never used the scented soak mode, but there was a lingering perfume scent in the bathroom. Just then, I heard something drop. I walked back into the bedroom and frowned, looking at the closet. Behind me, Leo quietly sighed in relief as he saw the collectible figurine on the nightstand. I paid him no mind, my gaze fixed on the closet in front of me. That row of large wardrobes was custom-made; a person could easily hide inside. But just as my hand touched the closet door, Leo suddenly grabbed my arm: “Wait.”

“Chloe, I brought you a gift. It’s right there.” He pointed to the collectible figurine on the table. My eyes lit up: “Is it that limited-edition figurine I’ve been waiting years for and never got?!” With the closet still on my mind, I distractedly fiddled with the figurine for a moment, then, when Leo wasn’t looking, I immediately walked over and opened the closet. I checked every inch of the closet from left to right, confirming no living thing was hidden inside. Seeing the fully open closet, Leo casually tidied the clothes inside, his voice completely natural: “What pajamas do you want to wear, Chloe?” This was the only place in the master bedroom someone could hide. It seemed I was overthinking things; there was no one else here. I pointed to my favorite set of pajamas, finally relaxing. It must have been a glitch in this remote control system, causing the program to activate automatically. For our home’s security, I had not only added a facial recognition system to the outdoor monitoring but also installed a discreet camera facing inward from a hidden spot opposite the door. Anyone other than Leo or me appearing at our door would trigger an alert on my phone. And the other hidden camera could show what was happening in the living room when the door opened. The next day, just after lunch at the office, the smart home assistant suddenly popped up again. [Master Bathroom Light On.] [Master Bath Scented Soak Mode Activated. Your luxurious bath awaits, Your Highness.] I opened the monitoring app, which hadn’t alerted me, And watched the footage at ten times speed from when I left home, confirming no one had entered. I breathed a sigh of relief. It must be a bug in this newly connected smart home system. I mentioned the issue to my assistant, asking him to upgrade the system when he had time. Then I just dismissed the smart assistant’s message. In the evening, I had dinner with Bella, a best friend I hadn’t seen in ages. As we chatted about our childhood dreams at the restaurant, I smiled and pulled out a photo I’d taken yesterday: “Look, Leo brought me this collectible from his business trip!” Bella examined it closely, then regretfully said: “This is a limited edition, truly! What a shame, it’s got lipstick on it. It’s not so perfect anymore.” Her words made me freeze. How could Leo have put lipstick on it? And it hadn’t come in a gift box. Or did he buy a knockoff to begin with? Filled with doubt, I FaceTimed Leo. After I explained, Leo quickly apologized: “Sorry, Chloe. I thought the lip color was a bit pale, so I touched it up with some lipstick from your vanity.” “I don’t know anything about these things. I’m so sorry, I’ll get you another one.” This figurine was released years ago in a very limited quantity, making it extremely rare to obtain. The fact that he went to such lengths, pulling strings everywhere to get me one, had already touched me deeply. Thinking of this, I smiled, ending the conversation. Suddenly, my phone again alerted me that the bathtub at home had activated the scented soak mode, and it finished use over an hour later. I shook my head. Leo never took long to wash up. This smart home system really seemed to be broken. A week later, I was about to board a train for a business trip to another city, When Officer Miller from our community security suddenly called: “Ms. Chloe, your friend seems to have arrived. She just registered your address and went in.” Last time, I’d been trying to fish for information about whether anyone unauthorized had entered my home. I never expected that after all this time, the security guard would actually provide me with useful information. I exited the ticket gate and opened my surveillance app. Three minutes later, Leo arrived at our front door, with no one else beside him. But he knocked before opening the door, then stood for a few seconds before going inside. With a sense of foreboding, I clicked on the footage from the camera opposite the door. Sure enough, when I fast-forwarded to the time he entered, In the video, a graceful woman stood inside the doorway, opening her arms to greet him.

I quickly exited the train station, hailed a cab, and paid extra for him to drive as fast as possible back home. As I watched the driver accelerate to the speed limit, my wildly beating heart suddenly throbbed. What if I went back and walked in on them? Would our relationship be shattered, ending in divorce? But we’d been together for ten years, from high school sweethearts to marriage after college graduation. Aside from his desire to build his career before settling down and having kids later, our relationship had always been harmonious. He even took the lead in handling all the pressure from both our families about having kids, saying he wanted me to enjoy my youth longer. But now, I felt terrified. Did he not want children, or did he already have children with someone else? Traffic jammed just two miles from home. I anxiously stared at the sea of cars ahead. Just then, my phone again alerted me: [Master Bath Scented Soak Mode Activated. Your luxurious bath awaits, Your Highness.] I was too furious to speak. I got out of the taxi immediately, my hands trembling as I grabbed a shared bike by the roadside and pedaled desperately back. But when I arrived at the community gate and parked the bike, I felt a bit helpless looking at our front door not far away. My mind was a mess. I opened the door and walked straight upstairs, Slowing my pace as I ascended the stairs, biting my lower lip until it felt raw. Were they intimate in my bed right now? What if he denied it? If he admitted it, would I divorce him? How would I tell our parents? My hand hesitated on the doorknob for two seconds. I started video recording on my phone camera, then suddenly pushed the door open: “Leo, what are you doing?!” Leo put down his phone and sat up on the bed, looking at me: “I just lay down and was about to call you. Chloe, aren’t you on a business trip in another city?” Seeing the lumpy duvet on the bed, I gritted my teeth: “The project was canceled last minute. I’m a bit tired.” Leo chuckled softly, then dotingly pulled back the covers: “Well, my dear wife, why don’t you come up and get some sleep? I’ve missed you all day.” The bed was completely empty; it seemed the person had already hidden. I hugged Leo and sniffed him. The scent was very faint. Then I immediately went to the master bathroom. A strong fragrance instantly flooded my nostrils. Someone else had definitely showered here just now! I pursed my lips, crouched down to check under the bed, and then opened the closet. But after searching every corner by the bed, there was no one. I could only look at Leo: “Where is that woman?” He stood up, put his arms around me, and rubbed my neck, his voice puzzled: “What woman? Besides you, only Maria is ever here, and she’s on vacation.” I pushed him away and walked out of the bedroom, checking every other room, confirming no one was hidden. Until I had angrily checked the entire house, I was utterly exhausted. Leo frowned, pulled me over, and sat me down on the living room sofa. “You suspect me.” Then, his voice softened, and he pulled me into his arms: “I’m sorry, I haven’t given you enough security. How about I take you back to Mom and Dad’s for a few days to relax?” His face showed undisguised concern. I pretended to sigh in relief, rubbing my temples: “I must be going crazy with all this stress, maybe I’m just getting old and sensitive.” Leo shook his head, lifted my face to meet his gaze: “No way, Chloe.” “You’re the most beautiful, youngest girl in the world. Don’t be anxious. Go wash up and get some sleep. I’ll hold you tonight, and I promise you’ll feel completely safe.” I didn’t believe a word he said, but just smiled and nodded, “Okay.” Then, I used the opportunity to check the number of condoms in the nightstand drawer. Sure enough, there were fewer. To check the surveillance footage, I grabbed a bathrobe and went into the bathroom. After rinsing the bathtub three times, I finally suppressed my disgust and lay down to open the app. No one had exited through the front door, nor through the side window. But when I scrolled back a few days before the first alert message, I discovered that, Although there was no footage of them entering together, Leo had once exited the front door with that girl. Which meant— Besides the main entrance, she had another way to get into my house.

After showering with a heavy heart, I put on my bathrobe and prepared to leave the bathroom, Only to notice a smear of bright, vivid lipstick on the collar in the mirror. Practicing the expression I’d wear when I stepped out, I resisted the urge to throw away the bathrobe. She comes to my house, sleeps with my man, and wears my clothes. To use my things so skillfully, it seemed Leo’s affair hadn’t started just a day or two ago. It was only after connecting the smart home app for remote control that I, foolishly, began to notice. The moment I walked out, Leo thoughtfully offered me hot milk: “Drink this, you’ll sleep more soundly. You’ve worked hard, Chloe.” I managed a tired smile and hugged him: “I’m sorry, Leo. I’m just so exhausted, I’m even imagining things and doubting you.” “I’m not feeling well, and I’m afraid I’ll wake up several times tonight. I’ll sleep in the guest room.” Leo considerately helped me lie down on the bed, then went to the guest room without further questions. But I left the bedside lamp on, staring at the ceiling, sleepless all night. It wasn’t until I went to the bathroom to wash up in the morning, looking at the bright lights in the mirror, that an idea sparked… I went out and searched everywhere for a shop, finally buying some harmless fluorescent dye and pouring it into my shower gel and scented bath products. No matter what mode she used to shower next time, she would inevitably get covered in the fluorescent agent. This fluorescent agent couldn’t be washed off without a special solution. I wanted to see where she’d hide then! To avoid giving anything away, I planned to go home at eight, as usual. After the system notified me that the bath mode was activated, I immediately called Leo, saying I wanted to eat his home-cooked meal. Leo instinctively glanced at the bathroom, his smile strained. “How about you eat when you get off work? If I cook now and bring it over, it’ll get cold by the time you’re home.” I sighed, about to try to stall him further, When suddenly, a woman’s scream came from his end: “Ah, it hurts! Leo, help me!” I paused, feigning confusion: “Sounds like a woman’s voice. Leo, are you watching TV?” Leo quickly nodded, then his eyes darted around a few times before he spoke: “Ah, the company has an online meeting. I have to hang up.” Seeing him flustered, I sneered. This time, I was bringing both our parents to catch him in the act. Let’s see how he’ll talk his way out of this! Leading a whole crowd of us, I pushed open the bedroom door with a fierce demeanor. In the brightly lit bathroom, music was still playing from a phone. Mr. and Mrs. Harrison grabbed me: “Chloe!” “Don’t open the door yet. Just call them out. Give us a little face. When Leo comes out, whatever punishment you want, we’ll support it.” I hesitated, but looking at Mr. and Mrs. Harrison’s kind faces, I nodded. But to my surprise, after calling out several times, there was still no answer from the bathroom. Finally, Mr. Harrison steeled himself and pulled open the bathroom door. But the moment the bathroom opened, I froze. Mr. and Mrs. Harrison and my own Mom and Dad gasped, looking at me. Despite the lights being on, there was no one inside— Only a pink phone playing music. Mr. and Mrs. Harrison exchanged a glance, then quietly tried to reassure me: “Chloe, are you sure you heard a woman’s voice?” “But there’s no one home.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “299167”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #现实主义Realistic

I’ve had four boyfriends in total. My first boyfriend was a rich playboy. I chased him for two years, and we dated for three months. When we broke up, he looked down at me, aloof and condescending: “Willow, you were nothing more than a passing amusement.” My second boyfriend was a university professor. I pursued him first too, and we dated for a year. When we broke up, he smiled gently: “Willow, I don’t have the time to wait for you to grow up.” My third boyfriend was a huge celebrity. I didn’t chase him; he chased me. When we broke up, he sneered, “An illegitimate child really is a disgusting thing, isn’t it? Just a little attention, and you came practically throwing yourself at me.” Later, Landon and I announced our marriage, and then, one by one, they all came knocking on my door. [Long roads of life, long journeys with you.] I posted a marriage announcement on my Ins story, with a picture of Landon and me holding our marriage certificate. Friends who knew me well flooded the comments with blessings. Among the many well wishes, I spotted a jarring remark. [Are you serious?] I checked the sender. It was Liam. Liam, my first boyfriend, technically my first love, I guess. But our breakup was so humiliating that he didn’t leave any ‘first love’ glow surrounding him for me. Given Liam’s arrogant nature, he should have unfriended me ages ago. Why did he keep my contact information all this time? Maybe he just thought it was irrelevant and didn’t bother deleting it. I replied to each blessing, casually skipping over Liam’s ambiguous comment. I sent Landon a voice message: [Could you pick up a blueberry cupcake for me on your way home?] Just as I sent it, I saw a message from Gavin. It caught me off guard. Why was Gavin messaging me? [Are you getting married?] My heart felt heavy. With Gavin, I’d imagined our future together more than once. I met Gavin when I was in college; he was a Ph.D. senior and six years older than me. He was gentle, considerate, and always polite. Even when we broke up, he remained calm. Even though I cried and begged him not to leave, he still gently wiped away my tears and, with a soft smile, said, “Willow, you’re too immature. I don’t have the time to wait for you to grow up.” That was Gavin. He was always so self-controlled, so by the book. When I was hysterical during our breakup, he remained calm and composed. He’d point out my flaws as if he were giving a scholarly presentation, which then plunged me into a period of relentless self-doubt and emotional exhaustion for quite some time. But those painful days were behind me. I glanced at the marriage certificate on my table. I’d found my true home. [Yes, we’ve already tied the knot.] The “typing…” indicator stayed on for a long time before a message finally came through: [Congratulations.] [Thank you, Gavin.] It turned out that even such intense love and hatred for Gavin could fade with time. I scrolled through TikTok for a bit and saw that the top trending news was Jaxon, the A-list actor, visibly losing his cool during a live stream. The comments below were all variations of: [What news did our oppa see? His face changed in an instant!] I raised an eyebrow. That kid, even after all these years, he still couldn’t hide his emotions. But given his status and background, he didn’t really need to. Jaxon, my third boyfriend. Though his words during our breakup were incredibly harsh, they didn’t really affect me. From the first day we started dating, I knew we wouldn’t last. I knew he had ulterior motives, but I was so lonely then. I just wanted someone to be with me, so when he chased me, I agreed. I was a little curious about what Jaxon had seen to react that way. Just then, the doorbell rang. Landon walked in, holding a small cake. Looking at the tall, imposing man before me, it was hard to imagine us together.

Landon and I meeting was a complete accident. I had just broken up with Jaxon not long before. Although I’d known this day would come, I’m a very emotional person, and I was still feeling low. So, I went traveling to Wyoming, and that’s where I ran into Landon. Landon was a lawyer. I had actually met him once before. When the man I knew as my father passed away, everyone was called back to divide the estate. Even though I was an illegitimate daughter, the law still protected my rights as a legitimate heir. Landon was the lawyer handling the case then. I ended up with three million and an apartment. For a family as wealthy as the Carmichaels, it was barely a drop in the ocean. I knew without a doubt that my half-brother and half-sister had deliberately ‘taken care’ of me; the other illegitimate children of the Carmichael family received more. I also knew why they hated me so much, but it didn’t matter. That money was enough for me to live a simple life. Back then, Landon, in his professional manner, asked if I needed him to provide legal assistance. I said no. After that, we never saw each other again. I never expected that we would meet again in picturesque Wyoming. Landon said his wallet and ID had been stolen, and I was the only person he knew there. He asked if I’d let him tag along. I figured I was already out enjoying myself, and besides, as a lone woman, it wasn’t really safe. So, I agreed. Landon usually seemed like a cold, reserved person, but he was surprisingly good at taking care of others. He knew a lot about everything; no matter what I talked about, he could always chime in. Traveling with him was genuinely delightful. He taught me how to ride a horse. On the vast prairies of Wyoming, he took me galloping, with the world seemingly at our feet. In that moment, I truly felt I could let go of the misfortune and pain of my past twenty-something years. I’m a graphic novelist. I turned my experiences in Wyoming into a graphic novel, and overnight, it became a massive hit online. My career success helped me forget my romantic setbacks. After returning to New York City, Landon and I grew closer. We’d talk about everything under the sun, from local gossip to global affairs. Sometimes I’d marvel at how much Landon and I resonated intellectually; we had a connection as if we’d known each other for ages. Landon and I would often plan trips together. One evening in New Orleans, after we’d had a few drinks, the moon hung bright in the sky. I smiled and asked Landon, “Do you… like me?” Landon smiled faintly too. “Did you notice?” “I wasn’t entirely sure, but I had a feeling you did.” “No need to be unsure. I like you. I’ve liked you for a very long time.” Landon’s eyes shone brightly, like stars. After he said that, he just kept looking at me. Landon later told me he was so nervous then, afraid I would reject him. I suddenly burst out laughing. “I like you too.” Landon and I got together so naturally, it felt like we were destined. After we started dating, Landon took me to do many things I’d never dared to try before. He took me to Antarctica to see penguins, to Australia to witness a volcanic eruption. On a stormy cruise ship, we kissed passionately, lost in the moment. “Willow, life is meant to be lived intensely. I hope you always shine brightly.” Meeting Landon filled so much of my emptiness and loneliness. So when he proposed, I didn’t hesitate for a second to say yes.

It was Mr. Carmichael’s 90th birthday, and all us younger relatives were summoned to celebrate. I absolutely dreaded going, but Mr. Carmichael loved his reputation more than anything. If I dared to disrespect him publicly, he’d probably banish me from New York City. Besides, he was the one who stopped my half-siblings when they tried to make my life hell. So, even though I knew the feast would turn my stomach, I had to go. Thankfully, Landon would be with me. My half-siblings still looked at me as if I were garbage, their disgust impossible to hide. There were four illegitimate children in the Carmichael family, but my half-siblings hated me the most. My mother, you see, was very shrewd, and she almost managed to marry their father, becoming his official wife. I was brought into the Carmichael household at age twelve. They gave me a privileged life, but it was also the place I detested most. Genevieve never liked me. She constantly bullied me behind the scenes—locking me in the yard during rainstorms, cutting off the power to my room and sealing the windows shut in the summer, inciting my classmates to bully me at school. Of everyone in the Carmichael family, I hated Genevieve the most. When I discovered Genevieve had a crush on Liam, a method of revenge suddenly clicked in my mind. I would hook Liam, and let that stuck-up princess Genevieve experience the taste of loss. I spent two years carefully cultivating an innocent, unassuming persona around Liam. Others whispered that I was as low-class as my mother, learning to ensnare men at such a young age. I didn’t care because back then, I hated Genevieve to my core. In the end, I successfully got together with Liam. I still remember Genevieve’s eyes, practically spitting fire, when I walked in front of her, holding Liam’s hand. “Willow, you’re like a persistent ghost,” Genevieve hissed darkly. The more miserable she was, the happier I became. I smiled brightly. “Thanks to you all, I’m doing perfectly fine in New York City.” Genevieve glanced at Landon beside me and scoffed, “Who’s this stray you picked up now?” “Ms. Carmichael, long time no see. I’m Landon, Willow’s husband,” Landon said calmly. Genevieve’s disdain immediately vanished when she heard Landon’s words. Landon’s family had been prominent in law for generations; his grandfather had even participated in drafting important legislation. “Ms. Carmichael, your words just now not only offended Willow but also insulted me. I kindly request an apology,” Landon said softly, yet his presence was overwhelmingly authoritative. Genevieve’s face flushed with anger, her neck stiff, refusing to apologize. I noticed more and more eyes gathering on us. Harrison said gravely, “Genevieve, apologize to them.” Genevieve was furious, but she still begrudgingly apologized. *Sigh.* Honestly, adult Genevieve is far more of a pushover than her younger self. Just as I was reflecting, I felt someone staring at me. I searched for the source of the gaze and found it was Liam. Of course. Given the relationship between the Carmichael and Knight families, Liam was definitely expected to be here. After years apart, Liam seemed much more composed, exuding that classic, overbearing CEO vibe. I plastered a fake smile on my face, purely to annoy him. To my surprise, his expression changed drastically. The clinking of glasses and chatter of the banquet made me feel suffocated. I slipped away to the Carmichael family’s back garden for some fresh air. Just as I was about to head back to find Landon, Liam suddenly appeared. “What was that smile for just now?” I was actually quite irritated by Liam. He was always so high-handed, with that classic spoiled rich kid attitude. Back then, to ensnare him, I’d put in so much effort. Even though my initial intentions weren’t pure, people develop feelings. Liam had helped me a few times, and for someone as isolated as I was then, it was a lifeline. So, later, I genuinely fell for him. But we only dated for three months. When we broke up, he trampled on my dignity, making me feel utterly worthless. I casually brushed him off: “Nothing, really. Just saying hello after all these years.” He was silent for a moment. When he spoke again, whether it was my imagination or not, his voice sounded a bit strained: “Are you really married?” “What else would it be? A fake marriage?” My tone was laced with sarcasm, because when we broke up, he’d said, “I was just pretending to mess around with you, and you actually believed it.” “The Davies family has been in politics for generations; they would never approve of someone like you, an illegitimate child. Willow, don’t delude yourself. Break up with him soon.” He said this in a tone that suggested he was looking out for me, but his words dripped with contempt for my background. A voice came from behind us: “Does Mr. Knight enjoy meddling in other people’s relationships so much? My relationship with Willow is none of your concern, Mr. Knight. Our families adore Willow. One cannot choose their birth, and that should never be a chain binding Willow.” Landon walked up to me and quietly asked, “Where did you go? I’ve been looking for you.” Little did I know that our intimate moment, whispering close together, made Liam’s eyes burn red with fury. He sneered a few times, “Willow, do you really think Landon is such a good guy?” I gave him a strange look. How did Liam become so good at making baseless accusations after a few years abroad? “If he isn’t, then you are?” Liam’s chest heaved with anger. I didn’t see the triumphant smirk Landon flashed at Liam. After the banquet, Liam sent me a SnapChat message. [Willow, what I said that day wasn’t meant to mock you. I just wanted to warn you.]

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “299166”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #现实主义Realistic

At our engagement party, my fiancé, Blake, completely changed the menu, swapping out the Wagyu Beef and Caviar for burgers and hot dogs. I was furious, beyond words. Right then and there, I broke up with him and called off the engagement. He looked utterly bewildered. “Zara, you’re breaking up with me over a *table of food*?” I shot him a cold smirk. “You’ll find out the real reason soon enough.” I pulled out my phone and played a video from the security camera. In it, a total stranger, a girl I’d never seen before, was twirling around in *my* custom-made wedding dress. Blake’s face instantly went white. Blake grabbed my hand, about to explain, but I shoved my palm over his mouth. “Don’t say a word. I swear, I’ll punch you right here if you do!” His face was a mask of dismay. He just followed me silently to his apartment. And there it was. *My* wedding dress, hanging in his bedroom. I barely glanced at it before grabbing a pair of scissors and savagely cutting it to shreds. Blake didn’t dare stop me. He just stood there, watching. A few moments later, I dropped the scissors. The floor was covered in a pile of white fabric confetti. I turned to him. “We’re over.” “No, wait, listen to me, Zara, please! I just met her once! I have no idea why she’d wear *that* dress!” “Really? Then tell me, why was she in *our* marital home?” “Isn’t she just an intern from your company?” “You let her wear *my* custom-made wedding dress, twirl around for you, even kiss you. Do you seriously think I’m an idiot, Blake? You’re disgusting.” My words made his face drain of all color. “No, it’s not like that! She was harassing me! She said she was just passing by and wanted to come up for a minute. I only went out to take out the trash, and she just helped herself to the dress!” “Seriously, Zara, check the security footage! I swear I yelled at her!” Blake was the one who installed the security cameras in our marital home and shared access with me right away. Honestly, I never planned to actually watch them. But I was on a business trip that day and just wanted to check in on him. I never expected to see something that would rip my heart out and ignite such a furious rage. “You did yell at her, I saw that. But she was confessing her love to you in my dress, and then she kissed you. You didn’t exactly pull away, did you?” Blake’s face went utterly pale. I didn’t hesitate; I just walked away. He yelled after me, his voice filled with fury. “Zara! She was just an accident!” “You’ve always looked down on me, haven’t you? You’re just using this as an excuse to break up with me, aren’t you?!” “Both today’s engagement party and Chloe’s appearance were just accidents! I was just afraid you’d be angry, that’s why I didn’t tell you!” “Why can’t you ever think about *me*? Do you know how much I sacrificed just to marry you?” At his words, I turned to face his furious expression, unable to help but let out a cynical laugh. “Sacrificed what, exactly?” Perhaps my gaze was too direct, or maybe my sarcasm was too much for his ego, but he couldn’t utter another word. I just gave a bitter smile, then turned and left. Back home, I told my parents everything. I packed up every single gift he’d ever given me, arranged for a courier service, and sent them all back. The engagement was off. Blake’s parents were incredibly displeased with me, but I didn’t say a word. I just forwarded them the video, then exited their family SnapChat group. I wanted to put an end to all of it, but Blake wouldn’t let it go. The next day, he showed up at my door, even bringing that intern, Chloe. The girl looked at me, her eyes reddening as she started to cry. I didn’t speak, just stood there, staring them down. The office was silent. Chloe probably felt incredibly awkward. She choked back her sobs, glancing around, then at me, finally managing to stop her tears. “Zara, I’m so sorry. It’s all my fault. I shouldn’t have… I shouldn’t have tried on your wedding dress!” “Please, I’m begging you, don’t break up with him.” “Oh, really? So, you’re willing to compensate me for my losses?” She froze. I continued, “That wedding dress was custom-made. I waited a whole year for it, and it cost $200,000. Trying it on, even once, depreciated its value. So, you can just pay me $30,000.” Before she could speak, Blake blurted out, “No way! That’s too expensive!” “Chloe is just an intern. And seriously, $200,000 for a wedding dress? You obviously got ripped off. I can take you to a bridal street where you can rent one for $400!”

I stared at Blake, utterly astonished. My family isn’t super rich, but my parents have been in business for years. I’m their only child, their pride and joy, and everything they have will eventually be mine. My future wedding wouldn’t just be for family and friends; there would be many business partners there too. If they found out I was wearing some bargain-bin dress, they’d laugh me out of the room! Seeing my silence, Blake realized what he’d just said. He stammered, “I just… I just said that offhand. Of course, if my wife likes it, not just $200,000, but $2,000,000, I’d buy it!” I took a deep breath. “So? Are you going to pay or not?” Chloe immediately burst into tears again, refusing to say a word. I had zero patience for her crying performance. “Either I call the police, or you pay up. Your choice!” Blake immediately got angry. “Zara, when did you become so petty?” “Blake, when did you become so blind? Your fiancée is being bullied by your intern, and you’re siding with her. Who exactly is the love of your life?” “If I let another man wear your custom-made groom’s suit, would *you* be okay with that?” His face darkened. “Zara, if you’re really going to talk like this, then there’s nothing I can do.” “Then you can get lost!” I pointed toward the door. “We’re breaking up. Don’t ever come back. And she *will* pay for that wedding dress!” With that, I called the police. Don’t let anyone think I have a good temper and then walk all over me. Seeing that I was serious, he suddenly slapped my phone out of my hand. I immediately slapped him back! “Looks like you didn’t learn your lesson last time!” My family is well-off, and it’s perfectly reasonable for me to have a bit of a temper. Blake knew this from the first day we dated. At the sight of me striking him, Chloe shrieked, “How could you hit someone?!” I patted my hand. “You treat scum like scum. I don’t mind giving you a couple of slaps, as long as you can take it!” Blake’s face was livid from my slap. “Zara, you’re nothing but a shrew!” “*This* is a shrew? You probably don’t even know what I’m capable of yet. I can get even shrewder! Wanna bet?” He instinctively backed up two steps. He knew I meant what I said. “You, you’ll regret this!” “I won’t regret a thing. But if you don’t pay, I’ll post everything online! Then I’ll make sure everyone knows what happens when you mess with me!” “Go ahead, try it! Let’s see if public opinion will tear *you* apart!” That’s when Chloe finally showed fear, quickly pleading, “I, I’ll pay. I’ll pay, okay?!” I called my lawyer and had him witness Chloe compensating me for the damages. This wasn’t blackmail; seeing me go through with all this, Blake’s face grew even darker. “Do you really have to go this far? Why are you so guarded?” “I’m guarded against petty people, not gentlemen. Don’t worry, this is standard procedure. If you have any objections, feel free to call the police. We can resolve this with them as witnesses.” “No need!” Chloe quickly tugged at his hand. “No need, I’ll just pay.” “Please don’t argue with her because of me. Don’t let me ruin your relationship.” Her fake sincerity was practically radiating off her. “Chloe, from now on, when you see me, stay far away!” Once the money was transferred, I simply told them to leave. As he left, Blake glared at me, his eyes full of resentment. “I know you’re angry right now. I won’t hold it against you. I’ll come see you again in a couple of days!”

Before I could even respond, he dragged Chloe out the door. I shook my head. Blake probably still didn’t understand me. When I get mad, not even wild horses could drag me back. His promise to “come see me again” meant absolutely nothing to me. After all, I had no intention of ever being involved with him again. All his gifts were returned, the ruined wedding dress was cut up, the wedding canceled. I immediately declared myself single on Ins. “Single Ladies’ Night Out! Looking for company for late-night snacks!” The comments section exploded. “Broken up? So suddenly!” “Good riddance! Out with the old, in with the new!” “Party at the club tonight!” My girlfriends and I decided to hit a bar that night. When we got there, they were shocked to hear the reason for my breakup. “Blake is such a piece of trash. He should look at himself, trying to cheat with an intern!” “Eating from one bowl and looking at another! He had a beauty like you and still thought about an intern! What was he thinking?!” “Blake’s parents must be fuming. You’re a rich, beautiful woman, and now he’s lost everything he could’ve gained from you!” I shrugged. “I don’t know about all that. All I know is, he and I are done. He can forget about trying to mess with me again!” Just as I finished speaking, a shadow fell over our table. I looked up and saw my arch-nemesis, Damon. He sat down across from me. “Tsk, tsk. I always said your taste was terrible!” “And what makes *you* so great, Damon?” “Right, I’m not great either. Just hoping you’ll open your eyes next time, old lady. All my wedding contribution money went to waste!” I rolled my eyes, annoyed. “How much? I’ll pay you back!” He just chuckled, not saying anything. I finally took a proper look at him. He was wearing a red shirt today, unbuttoned enough to reveal his chest. It made my mouth go dry. This guy, with his dangerously handsome face. I tried to look away, but he pulled his collar open further. “Come on, get a good look!” My heart involuntarily sped up. I slapped the back of his hand. “Stop it, who’s looking at you?!” “You’re practically drooling, but still deny it. Way better looking than that pathetic excuse for a man you were with.” That was actually true. Damon saw me smile and boldly put his arm around my shoulders. “You said you broke off your engagement. Aren’t you thinking about finding someone new?” I gave him a sidelong glance. “What do you mean?” “My old man’s pushing me to find someone, says he wants to recoup all the wedding contributions he sent out.” “I don’t have anyone, and you know how much I hate trouble. How about we team up? I’ll give you 30% of the contribution money!” He was being so generous. I was a bit tipsy, and my brain wasn’t quite catching up. “You…” “Zara, let’s get married. Spite that pathetic excuse for a man, and make some serious cash while we’re at it!” Hearing that, my girlfriends chimed in. “Zara, I think it’s a great idea!” “Damon, how much bridal price would you offer?” “My entire fortune, for her!” He looked at me, the light in his eyes reflecting on my face, making me blush. Just then, an angry voice cut through the air. “Zara!” “You broke up with me for *him*? You had your next rebound lined up already!” I looked up to see Blake’s furious face. His eyes held an unfriendly glare. I laughed, struggling to my feet, and shouted, “You were messing around with your intern in our marital home! What, was I supposed to stay with you for Christmas?!” “Blake, you’re so messed up in the head, everything you see is dirty! I broke up with you, so what if I find someone new?!” “Let me tell you, I’m going to find a man who’s better than you in every single way!” “And I! Am going to marry him!” With that, I grabbed Damon and planted a big kiss on his cheek! Blake’s face turned scarlet with rage. The crowd around us cheered and whistled. He pointed at me. “You’ve got guts!” “We’ll see about this!” Watching him storm off, I grinned at Damon. The next second, I swayed and collapsed into his arms, completely passing out.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “299165”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #现实主义Realistic

My sister, the eternal favorite, not only announced at my wedding that she’d already eloped with my fiancé and was pregnant with his child, but she also pressured me to have a hysterectomy. Her demand? That I promise to take care of her child for the rest of my life. My dream wedding, a love story that started in high school and was supposed to end at the altar, turned into a living nightmare in front of over two hundred guests, all thanks to my sister. She stood there in a pristine white wedding gown, clinging to Brandon, the man who should have been standing beside me, and walked straight up to me. “Stella, I’m pregnant with Brandon’s child.” “We’re already legally married. He’s your brother-in-law now.” Amber’s words hit me like a bomb, exploding in my ears. Casually, she projected their wedding certificate onto the big screen behind us, then handed me the physical copy, as if worried I wouldn’t see it clearly enough. Underneath the crimson banner, their smiles were radiant, like a picture-perfect couple deeply in love. The date on the certificate? Just yesterday. “Why?!” I choked out to Brandon, the simple question catching in my throat multiple times. Brandon furrowed his brow, a flicker of guilt in his eyes, quickly replaced by a sigh. His voice dripped with feigned sympathy, “Stella, Amber only has a year left.” “This is her last wish—to marry the man she loves and have a child before she dies…” “Stella, Amber is your sister. You’d understand, right?” But who would understand *me*? I looked at his hypocritical face and suddenly found it utterly laughable. Utterly heartbreaking. Tears streamed down my cheeks as I screamed in anguish, “I’m supposed to understand her by letting my boyfriend sleep with her and giving up my own wedding?” Growing up, my sister had always monopolized our parents’ favoritism. And what she loved most was snatching away everything that was mine. My clothes; my toys; my friends… Until I met Brandon. I thought I’d finally found a love that was solely mine. But of course, she had to take even that! “Amber, please, just get out of my wedding! Get out of my life, okay?!” “Enough! Don’t talk like that!” Brandon snapped, his eyes flashing angrily. “If it weren’t for Amber, how do you think I would’ve ended up with you?” “What do you mean?” I stared at him, stunned and disbelieving. “Stella, I’m sorry. Please, don’t fight because of me anymore.” Suddenly, Amber burst into tears. “I just worried Mom and Dad would be devastated with no hope after I’m gone, so I wanted to leave them something to hold onto. Marrying Brandon was a last resort; I didn’t want the child to be born without a mom, or a dad.” “If you can’t accept this, then I’ll just go die right now!” With that, Amber suddenly charged forward, head first towards the wall!

A collective gasp echoed through the wedding venue! Just as Amber was about to hit the wall, the host rushed forward and pulled her back. Everyone let out a sigh of relief. Brandon shot me a blaming glare, then hurried to comfort her. My parents, too, rushed over, their faces full of heartache as they hugged and soothed her. Amber sobbed, “Don’t save me! Just let me die! I won’t live much longer anyway!” “It’d be better to grant Stella’s wish! If she can live happily, then dying like this would be a worthy end for me, her sister.” Her words instantly threw me back into the eye of the storm. Sure enough, Mom, after hearing that, stood up furiously and walked over, slapping me hard across the face. “I don’t have a daughter with such a wicked heart!” I clutched my stinging cheek, my eyes welling with tears. I stared silently at my mom. From the day I was born until now, she’d been like an invisible presence, lurking in the shadows. She never cared if I was sad, or if I was humiliated. But the moment Amber was involved, she’d appear without hesitation. It had always been like this, ever since I was a child. Brandon looked at me with disappointment. “Amber is your own sister, and you’re trying to force her to her death. Your heart is too cruel.” “Apologize to Amber right now, or our wedding is off, forever!” *Slap!* I swung my hand hard, slapping Brandon. “You’re disgusting!” The wedding I had dreamed of since I was a teenager finally ended in utter humiliation. After storming out, I went straight back to our apartment. When Brandon returned, I had just finished packing my belongings and was heading for the door with my suitcase. He grabbed my hand, rubbed his temples, and said impatiently, “Is this really worth all this drama, for such a small thing?” “It’s only for a year, then I’ll be back with you. Can you just stop making a scene?” I yanked my hand free. “A scene?” “Brandon, we’ve been together for so long. Did you ever truly love me? If you had just said you fell for someone else, I would have stepped aside immediately.” “But what did you do? You secretly got together with my sister, and then you humiliated me at our wedding in front of so many people!” The memory still sent shivers down my spine. “What did you take me for?” Brandon paused, then said, “Stella, I’m sorry you were wronged.” One simple “sorry you were wronged” to gloss over the deep wounds he inflicted. How pathetic. I lowered my gaze, no longer feeling any shred of love for him. “Brandon, we’re over,” I said. The moment he chose to hurt me, we were done. “Get out!” With that, I shoved him and his suitcase out the door, then quickly slammed it shut. This apartment was mine; *he* was the one who had to leave. Ignoring his knocking on the door, I went back to the living room and sank onto the couch, feeling utterly defeated. Brandon and I had been together for seven years. During my senior year of high school, he joined my class as a transfer student, a year older than me. Because he was an orphan, he was aloof and quiet, but he treated me differently. After graduation, we naturally started dating. We had our sweet moments, and our arguments too. He told me his biggest dream in life was to marry me and give me a home. When he made that promise as a young man, his face was sincere, his eyes filled with love. I genuinely believed we’d go from school sweethearts to husband and wife, but I never even knew when he and Amber started their affair! I buried my face in my hands, trying not to cry. But the sobs wracked my body. I stayed in the apartment in a daze for three days until my best friend, Chloe, rushed back from out of town. The moment she walked in, she hugged me, her eyes red with tears. She was my childhood friend, and she’d been away on a business trip, unable to make it to my wedding. “I shouldn’t have been away on that trip. I should have been with you, it’s all my fault…” she cried inconsolably. After a long while, she finally stopped, sniffling. “Stella, they humiliated you like this. We absolutely cannot let them get away with it!” “And with your sister’s manipulative nature, she definitely has more tricks up her sleeve!”

I nodded. Amber and I might be blood sisters, but she never liked me, not since we were kids. Plus, she had a terminal illness; doctors predicted she wouldn’t live past twenty-eight. Our parents felt guilty and spoiled her rotten. As a result, I’d been taken advantage of by her countless times. She wanted to plot against me even in her final moments, making me live in her shadow for the rest of my life? Dream on! And I refused to be played for a fool by her and Brandon! I wiped my tears and told Chloe my plan. She helped me find witnesses to prove my long-standing relationship with Brandon. Meanwhile, I began gathering evidence of our seven years together. I didn’t know what Amber and Brandon would do next, but I wasn’t going to sit around and wait! But I never expected Amber to be so utterly shameless!

After a few days of rest, I returned to work. Having been out for several days, my workload was enormous, leaving me swamped and unable to even grab a proper meal. When I got home that day, I saw Mom and Dad sitting on my living room couch with Amber and Brandon. That’s when I remembered Brandon still had a spare key. Seeing him, and remembering everything we shared in that apartment, made me sick to my stomach. I took a deep breath. It seemed I needed to speed up the process of selling this place. “What are you doing here?” I asked, my voice stiff. Mom pretended not to notice my sour expression. “Stella, you and Amber are sisters; there’s nothing you can’t get past.” “Amber has also promised that after she’s gone, we’ll hold another grand wedding for you and Brandon to make up for it.” “This time, Mom and Dad didn’t think things through.” It was rare for Mom to lower herself like this, but a chill ran through me. “So, you and Dad knew all about it that day?” Mom and Dad’s eyes flickered, looking a little guilty. I scoffed. So that’s how it was! Mom pursed her lips before saying, “Your sister and the baby needed a legitimate status. That was the best occasion.” Because Amber needed it, they chose to sacrifice me without hesitation. I closed my eyes, laughing self-deprecatingly. I always knew I wasn’t as important as Amber in their hearts. But I never imagined how utterly insignificant I was. Amber interjected at just the right moment. “Stella, don’t blame Mom and Dad. They did it all for me.” “I know you’re hurt, but I didn’t want to miss Brandon again in my lifetime. We’ve already missed our chance once.” As Amber spoke, she looked at Brandon with tender affection, and his eyes were filled with sympathy. My heart skipped a beat. I suddenly remembered Brandon had a first love before his senior year. I’d been curious and asked him about it once, but he’d always changed the subject. I never imagined his first love was my sister! No wonder he treated me uniquely. It turned out I’d been a stand-in all these years! I clenched my fists tightly. Amber, Brandon! You’ve gone too far! Perhaps my face was too pale, Brandon didn’t dare to look at me, but Amber continued, “Stella, I know you love Brandon very much.” “But I love him too, and I don’t want to share him with another woman. But what can I do, since you’re my own sister?” She then started crying, looking utterly pitiful. “If you agree to have a hysterectomy, I’m willing to let Brandon marry you after I’m gone.” Amber cried so pathetically that Brandon pulled her into his arms, like a pair of star-crossed lovers. Mom and Dad were shedding tears. “That’s right, Stella, your sister doesn’t have much time left. Just give in to her one more time. Mom knows Dad and I neglected you in the past, which made you so stubborn.” “How about this, you come home and live with Mom and Dad. Let us make it up to you properly. As for this new apartment, you can let Amber and Brandon have it for now.” “You can move back in after a year…” I looked at Amber. When no one was watching, she smugly raised an eyebrow at me. Like a victor. *Slap!* I couldn’t take it anymore. I lunged forward and slapped Amber hard across the face. Amber shrieked. Mom, Dad, and Brandon froze.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “299164”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #现实主义Realistic

I’d been a ghostwriter for five years. Five scripts, and I’d taken my struggling actor boyfriend and turned him into a newly crowned Best Actor. Yet, at the awards ceremony, he declared his heartfelt devotion to his innocent junior mentee, whom he’d funded: “Thank you, my inspiration, my muse.” Daisy’s eyes glistened, tears threatening to spill. “Lucas, you shine so brightly. I only dared to hide in the shadows, quietly writing every word for you. I never thought…” The entire internet hailed them as a match made in heaven, while I, the real author, became his “burnt-out writer with no spark.” My agent, Brenda Jenkins, advised me: “Just bear with it. He promised to use your script for his next project.” I smiled. That night, I registered an account and posted on Ins. “Hello everyone, I’m Willow Hayes, the screenwriter for ‘Long Night.’” On the live broadcast of the awards ceremony, Lucas Thorne stood under the spotlight, handsome in his custom-tailored suit, his face displaying a perfectly measured excitement. He clutched the Best Actor trophy, a symbol of the highest honor. I sat in my dimly lit living room, the computer screen before me still showing the document of his acceptance speech. I had written it. Every word carefully chosen, every pause meticulously designed. For the script of his career-defining masterpiece, ‘Long Night,’ I’d pulled seven all-nighters. When I finally turned it in, my heart felt like it was being squeezed in a vise, my breath catching in my throat. The doctor said I had severe myocardial damage, and if I continued like this, I could suffer sudden cardiac arrest at any moment. I hid the diagnostic report. In return, I got his ultimate glory tonight. “…Thank you to the committee, thank you to my team,” his voice came through the speakers, “But today, the person I want to thank most is someone special.” My heart skipped a beat. I instinctively straightened my back. On the sofa was the throw pillow he’d personally signed for me: ‘To my dearest Shadow.’ For five years, I’d stayed hidden behind the scenes, writing five scripts for him, elevating him from a nobody actor, step by step, to where he is today. We’d made a pact: once he won Best Actor, we’d go public. He’d take my hand in front of the world and tell everyone that I, Willow Hayes, was the architect of his success. On the live broadcast, his gaze, full of deep affection, swept across the audience. “She is my entire creative world. She is my muse. Without her, Lucas Thorne wouldn’t be standing here today.” My breath caught. These weren’t the lines we’d agreed on. The camera followed his gaze, finally settling on an inconspicuous corner of the audience. A girl in a white dress stood up, long hair flowing over her shoulders, her face innocent and sweet. It was Daisy Miller, his junior mentee from film school whom he often spoke about funding. Flashbulbs instantly focused on her. Her eyes were red, tears threatening to spill. Lucas extended his hand to her, his voice tender: “Daisy, come up. This honor is yours too, my dearest Shadow.” Gathering her skirt, Daisy stepped onto the stage that should have been mine. She took the microphone Lucas offered her, her voice thick with tears, her eyes glistening. “Lucas, you shine so brightly. I… I only dared to hide in the shadows, quietly writing every thought that crossed my mind for you. I never thought…” Her words were broken and halting, yet they were enough for everyone to imagine a grand romantic drama of a talented artist and his grateful muse, a perfect romantic narrative for the year. So, every word I’d tirelessly written became her quiet, unrecognized contributions, for which she never dared ask for credit. Every plot I’d meticulously crafted through sleepless nights became her and Lucas’s profound soul connection. I, Willow Hayes, on Lucas Thorne’s night of triumph, was completely erased from existence. I became a mere backdrop, not even worthy of a name, in his love story. Instantly, the entire internet exploded. #LucasDaisyPerfectMatch #BestActor’sGratitude #DaisyTheMuse My phone vibrated wildly. It was my agent, Brenda Jenkins, calling. I numbly picked up, her cold voice coming through the receiver: “Willow, you saw the live broadcast, right? For the sake of the bigger picture, don’t say a word right now.” “For the sake of the bigger picture?” My voice was dry. “Brenda, that script was mine!” “We know,” Brenda’s tone was laced with impatience, “But Daisy’s ‘innocent genius’ persona is far more beneficial to Lucas than your image as a ghostwriter holed up indoors. Willow, you need to know your place. To put it bluntly, your spark has long since faded. It’s your good fortune that Lucas even uses you.” My good fortune… So, my five years of exhausting contributions were, in his and his team’s eyes, just a tool that could be replaced at any moment. My fingers, gripping the phone, turned white from the pressure, my knuckles cracking faintly. Brenda seemed to sense my silence, then threw out the final bait: “Just stay quiet, don’t make trouble. Lucas promised. He’ll use your script for his next major project. This is an A-list production, don’t be ungrateful.” With that, she hung up. The living room fell into a deathly silence. I looked at the mountain of script drafts, professional books, and the screenwriting awards on the wall—awards that were mine, yet Lucas had never once mentioned publicly. My heart suddenly stopped hurting. When pain reaches its peak, it turns into numbness. I slowly stood up and walked to the computer. I opened the web browser, and using my ID, I registered an Ins account under my real name. In my bio, I typed out a few lines. “Hello everyone, I’m Willow Hayes, the screenwriter for ‘Long Night.’”

My Ins post caused a brief ripple in the early morning internet, but it was quickly drowned out by a torrent of mockery and abuse. “Who is this crazy woman? Desperate for fame?” “LOL, the biggest attention-seeking stunt of the year! Did she get jealous seeing our Best Actor win?” “Ex-girlfriend? Or a rejected stalker fan? Such a low-class move.” “Sweetie, if you’re trying to trend, please show some proof. Who believes you with just your word?” Lucas’s fans were terrifyingly aggressive. They quickly found my account, and the comment section and DMs were flooded with vile insults. I didn’t respond, just watched it all unfold calmly. Late that night, Daisy went live. She wore no makeup, just a simple white T-shirt, in a humble dorm room background. In the camera, her eyes were swollen and red, her face pale—a sight that would stir pity in anyone. “I don’t know why things turned out this way…” Her voice choked, and she bowed deeply to the camera. “I’m so sorry for taking up everyone’s time and attention. I actually… I’ve always admired Ms. Hayes. I’ve seen her early works; she’s incredibly talented.” She praised me first, then skillfully shifted her narrative, tears flowing perfectly. “But inspiration, it’s something you truly can’t control… When Lucas and I talked about scripts, so many ideas just naturally flowed out. We felt like we’d found kindred spirits. I truly didn’t mean for any of this to happen… If my existence has hurt Ms. Hayes, I sincerely apologize.” Her speech was perfectly crafted, portraying her as an innocent, kind soul who adored her senior, a fragile, innocent flower swept away by her talent and love. At the same time, she subtly implied that my well of inspiration had run dry, that I only wrote soulless commercial tropes, and that she was the true creative spirit, sharing a soul connection with Lucas. Just then, Lucas’s call came in. “Willow, stop making a scene, it’s embarrassing.” His voice held a hoarseness from a hangover and obvious impatience. “I’ll have the finance department transfer the screenwriting fee for ‘Long Night’ tomorrow, double the amount. Delete your Ins post, behave yourself, and you’ll get your money for the next project.” He didn’t even bother to question or explain, just used money to command my silence. “What if I don’t?” I asked softly. His cold chuckle came from the other end of the line: “Willow, don’t test my limits. You can’t fight me, and you can’t fight the company. Don’t tear away your last shred of dignity.” With that, he hung up. I gripped the cold phone and laughed. Right, how could I fight him? He was the newly crowned Best Actor, adored by millions, backed by capital and a powerful PR team. And I, I was just a “ghostwriter,” stripped of my value, ready to be discarded at any moment. The next day, I returned to the apartment Lucas and I had shared for five years—which also served as my studio—to pack my things. As I carried a box full of manuscripts to the door, I bumped straight into Daisy. “Willow, thank you for taking care of Lucas these past five years. Now, he’s in my hands.” She smiled, her gaze falling on the box in my arms. “Speaking of which, I should thank you. A writer with no spark, who only knows how to bury herself in work like you, is really only good for ghostwriting, laying the groundwork for Lucas and my love story.” My heart felt a prick, but my face remained expressionless. My silence seemed to provoke her. She picked up a steaming cup of coffee from a nearby table, and pretending to “accidentally” let her hand slip, she splashed the entire cup of scalding liquid all over the box of precious manuscripts in my arms! They were the first drafts of ‘Long Night,’ my life’s work for five years, covered in dense revision notes. “Oh! I’m so sorry, Willow, my hand slipped!” she shrieked dramatically. I could no longer maintain my calm. I abruptly grabbed her wrist: “Daisy!” That was the reaction she wanted. The moment I grabbed her, she let out a piercing scream, violently slammed herself against the wall behind her, then slid to the floor. “Ah—! Willow, please don’t hit me! I know you hate me, but you can’t hit people!” She clutched her arm, sobbing hysterically. The apartment door opened just then. Lucas rushed back, looking disheveled and worn. His gaze immediately landed on Daisy crying on the floor, and me, looking furious, gripping her wrist. Without a moment’s hesitation or a single question, he lunged forward, not even glancing at me, and violently shoved me away! Caught off guard, I stumbled back several steps, hitting the cold wall. The box in my arms fell, and the coffee-soaked manuscripts scattered across the floor. Lucas carefully pulled Daisy into his arms, soothing her gently: “Daisy, don’t be scared, I’m here.” Then, he turned, his eyes full of disgust and disappointment as he looked at me. “Willow, I truly misjudged you. I never thought you’d be so vicious and wicked, not just talentless!” Every word he spoke was like a knife, precisely piercing my already battered heart. “A newcomer, and you stoop to such tactics to suppress her? Are you really so resentful of others’ success?” I looked at him, then at Daisy, who was subtly smirking with victory in his arms, feeling only absurdity and ridicule. I opened my mouth, but found I couldn’t say anything. Explain? In this scene, any explanation would only sound more feeble and unconvincing. Seeing my silence, the disgust in Lucas’s eyes deepened. He pulled out his phone, dialed Brenda Jenkins, and put her on speaker. “Brenda, inform the legal department. Terminate Willow’s contract immediately. My team can’t afford to keep such a malicious and idiotic woman.” His voice was as cold as ice. “I never want to see her again. Willow, you’re fired!”

The next day, a termination letter from the company’s legal department arrived at my temporary residence with lightning speed. The termination reason cited ‘leaking company commercial secrets and causing severe negative impact to the artist’s reputation.’ They demanded I return all project fees from the past year and pay a staggering eight-figure breach of contract penalty. Meanwhile, the studio registered under my name, which the company had funded, was forcibly reclaimed. This wasn’t just termination; it was total annihilation. They wanted me to leave with absolutely nothing, burdening me with lifelong debt I might never repay. Before I could recover from the shock of the termination letter, my phone dinged with a SnapChat message. It was from Lucas’s number. I opened it. The photo showed Daisy curled up lazily in his arms like a cat, the background our bedroom, the one we’d shared for five years. Lucas had an arm wrapped around her, leaning down to kiss the top of her head. The scene was intimate, and blindingly painful. A line of text accompanied the photo: “Thank you for clearing your spot, Willow.” My stomach churned, and I felt sick to my core, almost gagging. Immediately after, there was a commotion outside the door. I pulled back a corner of the curtain and saw movers throwing my belongings out of the apartment, piece by piece. The sofa I’d personally chosen, the throw pillow I’d used during sleepless writing nights, even the cushion he’d once signed for me, “To my dearest Shadow Screenwriter,” were all roughly tossed onto the ground, covered in dust. Lucas didn’t even give me time to pack my own things. I drew the curtains, shutting out everything outside. Over the next few days, I experienced what it meant to be kicked while I was down. Lucas’s studio pulled every string they had, putting out word to all production companies and streaming platforms that anyone who dared to work with Willow Hayes would be going against the newly crowned Best Actor, Lucas Thorne. Dozens of resumes I sent out vanished into a black hole, no replies. Producers who used to greet me with smiles and called me ‘friend’ now ignored my calls and SnapChat messages. The blacklist came swiftly and absolutely. Even more terrifying was the online bullying. Daisy’s fans somehow dug up my address. My mailbox was stuffed with razor blades and hateful letters. Every time I opened the door, it required immense courage. I unplugged the internet, turned off my phone, and completely cut myself off from the outside world. I didn’t cry, nor did I wallow in self-pity. I just sat on the floor, amidst the scattered mess, and began calmly and methodically sorting through my ‘legacy’ of the past five years. I carefully wiped clean and smoothed out the coffee-stained manuscripts, page by page. Though the writing was blurred, they were the most original evidence of my creative process. I dug out all my old computers and hard drives. From the very first day I started working with Lucas, I had a habit of recording all important discussions. All script drafts, outlines, revised versions—every single iteration—I saved as digital files with precise timestamps. This was an instinct as a screenwriter, to protect my creative labor. In the past, I thought it was just a backup, just in case. I never imagined that one day, they would become my weapons of counterattack. As I organized an encrypted folder, my hand paused. It was a folder created two years ago, named ‘Daylight.’ I clicked it open. Inside were the complete world-building, detailed character bios, episode outlines for the first three arcs, and… complete scripts for the first three episodes of ‘Daylight.’ My heart began to pound violently. Something suddenly occurred to me. Before starting ‘Long Night,’ Lucas’s team had already urged me to begin conceptualizing the next A-list project, which was ‘Daylight.’ To protect this work, into which I had poured immense ambition, I had registered the complete script outline and core concepts of ‘Daylight’ under my personal name, before handing it over to the company. And in the contract I’d originally signed with the company, the clause regarding ‘Daylight’ was only a vague “adaptation authorization,” and did not involve the transfer of underlying copyright! They thought that by kicking me out, this project would naturally become theirs. They thought that by pushing ‘Daisy Miller’ as their new muse, they could legitimately steal my hard work. They were wrong. My hand, clutching the mouse, trembled slightly with excitement. This was the ultimate checkmate. Just then, my computer, now reconnected to the internet, popped up with a news notification. The headline read: **[Newly Crowned Best Actor Lucas Thorne Teams Up With Genius Screenwriter Daisy Miller, A-List Blockbuster ‘Daylight’ Project Launch Conference to Be Held in One Week!]** The news was accompanied by a close-up photo of Lucas and Daisy, both smiling brightly, looking confident and in high spirits. I stared at the blinding headline, at that photo of them in their moment of triumph, and I laughed. I laughed until tears streamed down my face.

One week later, at the ‘Daylight’ project launch conference. The biggest streaming platforms in the country live-streamed the event, and online viewership had already surpassed ten million. I sat in a dressing room backstage, watching the spectacle unfold on the monitor screen. On screen, Lucas Thorne stood confidently at the center of the stage, basking in everyone’s attention. Beside him, Daisy, in a pure white fairy-tale dress, her makeup exquisite, leaned shyly against him, already the industry’s rising star, the ‘Most Talented New Screenwriter of the Year.’ “…The story of ‘Daylight’ was born from countless late-night conversations between Daisy and me,” Lucas said, clutching the microphone, looking at Daisy with deep affection. “She’s like a fairy born for drama, her mind full of wild, unbridled imagination. She’s the one who gave ‘Daylight’ its true soul.” Applause thundered through the hall. “And here, I also want to announce some good news.” He paused, then knelt on one knee, pulling a velvet box from his pocket and opening it. Inside was an enormous diamond ring, sparkling blindingly under the lights. It was the design I’d once seen in a magazine and pointed out to him. I’d said, when we get married, let’s get this one. He’d said yes. “Daisy Miller, marry me. Let’s create our film and television empire together.” “Yes!” Daisy cried with joy, extending her hand to him. Flashbulbs popped wildly, capturing this “fairy-tale romance.” The entire hall erupted. The live chat was flooded with ‘locked it down’ and ‘happily ever after.’ The host stepped forward at the opportune moment, his voice playfully teasing: “It seems today we’re not only witnessing the birth of an epic project but also the beginning of a beautiful union! But Lucas, I heard ‘Daylight’ previously involved another screenwriter?” This was clearly a pre-planned segment, designed to completely nail me to the pillar of shame. Lucas stood up, a perfectly placed look of regret on his face. “Yes. But unfortunately,” he sighed, “when inspiration runs dry, some people resort to tired clichés and shortcuts. And even worse, when they see more talented newcomers emerge, they become jealous, they try to suppress them, and they resort to unsavory tactics…” He didn’t mention my name, but everyone knew who he was talking about. These words irrevocably sealed my fate. I, Willow Hayes, became the industry’s negative example—jealous of talent, suppressing newcomers, and utterly devoid of inspiration. The investor representatives walked onto the stage, beaming, ready for the signing ceremony. Now. I took a deep breath and pushed open the door to the dressing room. The click of my heels on the polished marble floor was sharp and resolute. As the heavy doors of the venue swung open, all eyes turned to me.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “299163”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #现实主义Realistic

Severe weather was rolling in, heavy rain. I was stuck in the classroom, waiting for Caleb to pick me up. After half an hour, I couldn’t wait any longer and walked downstairs myself. But as I turned the corner, I overheard Caleb on the phone: “I get it, I’ll bring her back! It’s not like I asked her dad to save me, I don’t owe her anything!” “Why is she trying to emotionally manipulate me?!” My heart clenched painfully. If I could, I’d wish my dad had never saved him. Then I wouldn’t be stuck living under their roof. That night, I submitted an application to teach in a remote area, putting as much distance between Caleb and me as possible. It was an hour later when Caleb’s car finally pulled into the driveway. He stomped upstairs, fuming. “Harper, why didn’t you wait for me tonight?!” Caleb’s voice boomed from outside the door. I quickly put away my dad’s photo and replied calmly, “I waited for half an hour.” Caleb stood in the doorway, a flicker of impatience crossing his face. “It was raining, traffic was backed up – couldn’t you have waited a little longer?” “What’s so great about interning at that rundown school? You can work for our company instead!” I didn’t agree. “Got it.” I wasn’t ready to tell him about the teaching application yet. “It’s late. I’m going to bed. If there’s nothing else, you can go back to your room.” I stood up and pushed him out of the room. Caleb’s face darkened, and he braced himself against the doorframe. “Harper, there’s a high school reunion the day after tomorrow. Come with me!” A high school reunion. Just thinking about that crowd sent a shiver of disgust down my spine. Before I could reply, he typed my name into his phone. “I signed you up.” “I’m not going.” For the first time, I refused, snatching his phone and deleting my name. “Caleb, I won’t go. Those are your buddies, your friends. They have nothing to do with me!” “I don’t need you telling me how to live my life!” Caleb froze at my words, then let out a cold laugh. “Fine! I guess I’m just wasting my breath on you!” “I don’t need it!” I took a deep breath. “I don’t need you to look after me, not anymore. I’m not a burden to you, and I’m not your responsibility!” His slamming door was my only answer. Looking at my dad’s photo on the table, my heart was a mix of emotions. When I was six, Caleb fell into the water. There was a flash flood at the time, and his family was camping by the river, with no time to escape. Caleb was swept away. My dad happened to be passing by and jumped in without hesitation to save him. But my dad ran out of strength and was carried off by the flood. By the time they found him, his body was so swollen and disfigured from the water. I lost my father that day. Caleb’s family heard I was an orphan and took me in. Caleb always looked out for me. We grew up together, inseparable. Even his friends used to call me his little girlfriend! Now, he was saying I was emotionally manipulating him. If I could, I’d wish he had died in that flood. Then, I wouldn’t have to go to sleep every night looking at my dad’s photo. As for the reunion he mentioned, I’d already seen the buzz in the group chat. Those people, back in school, they spread rumors that my dad knew we were poor and sacrificed himself so I could latch onto Caleb’s family. I’d rushed up and beaten one of them until they were bleeding and crying hysterically that day, ready to be disciplined rather than apologize. Caleb was the one who got the surveillance footage to prove the truth, and the rumor-monger apologized to me in the end, but I couldn’t bring myself to forgive him. Because he was one of Caleb’s good friends. When they were saying those things, Caleb must have agreed with them deep down, right? I left the group chat, reread my application materials, and clicked send. Soon after, Megan called me. “Harper, you agreed? And Caleb agreed too?” Megan had met Caleb before. Hearing her words, I smiled. “Megan, he’s not my guardian or anything. I make my own decisions; it’s fine.” Megan sighed silently on the other end of the line, then finally said, “Okay, everything goes well, see you the day after tomorrow.” “Mm, thanks, Megan.” I hung up, scanned the room, and packed my luggage. Since I was going to teach in a remote area, I hadn’t planned on coming back. Some things, if I couldn’t take them, I’d just throw them away. That night, I slept poorly. One moment, I dreamt of my dad staring at me from the water; the next, Caleb was stepping on my dad. I woke up crying. When I woke up, it was almost dawn. I couldn’t get back to sleep, so I got up and went downstairs. Vivian was already downstairs.

“Morning, Harper. You’re up early. Any plans for today?” “Yes, I’m going to school. My internship is almost over.” Vivian brought over a bowl of oatmeal, her face gentle. “Any plans after graduation?” “You and Caleb are the same age. After spending so long in that academic bubble, once you enter society, you should make more friends, so you’re not alone.” I understood Vivian’s words: she wanted me to stop clinging to Caleb. Richard had said more than once that he hoped Caleb and I would marry someday, but Vivian disagreed. Richard got angry, saying that would be ungrateful. That day, I was standing outside the study, eavesdropping on their argument. I understood Vivian’s point. At the time, I felt a pang of sadness. Any girl’s feelings are easy to see, and I had a crush on Caleb. Not just because my dad saved him, but also because Caleb had genuinely been good to me back then. Alone in the unfamiliar Caleb’s house, Caleb was the one who helped me through that dark period, walking to and from school with me. When my grades were initially poor, Caleb patiently taught me. Later, hearing Vivian’s words, I understood. In her eyes, Caleb’s family had raised me all these years, and all the kindness they’d shown me had been repaid. There was no need to treat me the way they used to. But I wanted to say that I didn’t need them at all. What “kindness” was there to repay? I just wanted my dad back. If they hadn’t ignored warnings and insisted on camping there, Caleb wouldn’t have been swept away. Now, with Vivian saying this, I smiled. “Vivian, actually, I’ve been meaning to tell you. Caleb’s family has raised me all these years, and I’m already an adult. I want to move out.” Vivian froze. “Harper, you…” “My dad always said, ‘rely on yourself. Mountains crumble, rivers run dry. Your own strength is all you truly have.’” “Caleb’s family has taken me in for so long; you’ve all given a lot these past ten years. I can’t repay your kindness with ill will, so I’ve decided it’s time to live independently.” “Last night, I also wanted to tell Caleb, but I figured he was too upset. I’m only telling you, Vivian. Please keep it a secret for me. I have to leave the day after tomorrow.” Vivian looked surprised. “So soon!” She didn’t use any grand-sounding excuses, just “so soon,” which told me she wanted me to leave too. Perhaps sensing her attitude, Vivian quickly added, “I mean, isn’t it a bit too rushed? You haven’t even packed everything.” “Caleb might make a fuss if he finds out.” “Then I’ll trouble you to explain it to him, Vivian, after I’ve left.” Vivian’s expression softened. “Okay, Harper, you’ve always been a sensible girl. Have you found a job? And a place to live?” “Yes, I’ve found a job as a teacher. I report for duty the day after tomorrow. I haven’t found a place to live yet.” “That’s wonderful, truly wonderful.” Vivian’s mood perked up immediately. She quickly went upstairs and came back down with a property deed. “This apartment is right in the city center, with a subway station right outside. It’s convenient for everything.” “Here, Harper. Even when you live alone, you need to be careful. Don’t go for a shared apartment.” I accepted it. My dad’s life was worth all their years of care, and this apartment. I wasn’t stupid. Teaching in a remote area would be tough and would require money. With this apartment, I’d at least have a place to stay if I ever came back. I accepted.

After breakfast, Vivian took me to complete the transfer of ownership. Seeing my name on the property deed, I breathed a sigh of relief. I put the deed into my bag, finished packing my luggage, and then glanced at the ornaments on the bookshelf. They were all gifts from Caleb. I collected them one by one, put them in a box, sealed it, and prepared to take them to the storage room. As I came out, I ran into Caleb. Seeing the box in my hands, he frowned. “What’s that?” “Just some unused things I’m taking to the storage room!” “I’ll help you.” Without a word, he snatched it and walked towards the storage room. I had no choice but to follow. “Harper, why aren’t you going to the reunion? Are you still holding onto those old grudges? That’s all in the past!” “Chloe’s back. Let’s all get together!” At that, I stopped. So, Chloe was back. No wonder Caleb was so insistent on me coming. “I told you, I’m not going. Caleb, if you like her, that’s your business. Don’t use me as a shield!” “I’m not just *anyone* to you, and I certainly won’t emotionally manipulate you!” “Come to think of it, you don’t owe me anything either!” Caleb’s face instantly turned ashen. “You!” I snatched the box from his hands, put it inside, and turned to leave. Caleb, fuming, kicked the box violently, then stormed away. For two days straight, I was decluttering. Caleb didn’t come back, and Richard was away on a business trip. Vivian saw I was serious about leaving and packed me several bags, which I mailed off. On the day I left, Vivian was reluctant. She looked upstairs. “What’s that boy always so busy with?” “It’s fine, Vivian. He’s busy with work, don’t disturb him. I can manage on my own. Please take care!” I dragged my luggage away. Before I left, I sent Caleb a SnapChat message: “Caleb, goodbye.” He didn’t reply, and I didn’t think much of it. I left Caleb’s house and headed straight to the station, embarking on a long journey. That night, as I sat on a sleeper train, he added me to a group chat. The moment I joined, Chloe and the others posted many photos. She and Caleb were sitting together, fingers intertwined. “Going in circles and meeting again! Everyone’s still so great!” The classmates in the group chat congratulated them. “Are they together? Congrats!” “You two are the perfect couple! When’s the wedding? Let us know!” “Harper didn’t come today, is she mad? If you two are together, what about Harper?” Someone tagged Caleb. After a long pause, Caleb replied, “Whatever. She means nothing to me anyway!” Reading that, I could almost see Caleb’s cynical, impatient face. I thought back to high school, when he’d fought for me, chased away those bullies, and gently ruffled my hair. “Harper, you’re mine. I’ll protect you for life!” “Harper, you’ve lived in my house for so long, you’ll stay here forever!” I’d been so naive then. “How can I live here forever? I’ll have my own little family someday.” But Caleb had clutched my wrist possessively. “No way. Everyone says a life-saving kindness must be repaid in marriage. I’m yours. You can only marry me and have our own little family!” Caleb’s words back then had made me blush furiously. I thought it was a promise. Now, I realize it was just a whimsical joke. Only I took it seriously. The group chat was still lining up to congratulate them. When someone brought me up, Caleb only bad-mouthed me. “Don’t mention her. I don’t owe her anything. She’s lived and eaten in my house for so many years; any debt of kindness has been repaid in full!” Chloe even posted an emoji. “Yeah, Caleb has his own life. You can’t emotionally manipulate him, can you?” I let out a cold laugh and typed out a message: “I wouldn’t have had to live dependent on others in the first place. It was you, Caleb, who made me lose my family.” “If I could turn back time, go back to the past, I’d definitely pull my dad back and tell him not to save you!” I sent it, then left the group and blocked all of them. Caleb, goodbye forever! The group chat fell silent at my message. “Harper’s words are so nasty. She’s cursing you!” Chloe said, ready to argue in the group, but Caleb stopped her. “Forget her. Let’s drink!”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “299162”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #现实主义Realistic

My husband had this one cherished possession: an old, beat-up mug he’d used for twenty years. Coffee, tea, water – it was always in his hand, rain or shine. For two decades of our marriage, that mug was a constant… until last week. I found it tossed in the trash. It was at my dad’s seventieth birthday dinner that I dropped the bombshell: I wanted a divorce, right in front of all our relatives. Everyone froze. My mom grabbed my arm, her voice laced with disbelief. “Evelyn, are you out of your mind? You want a divorce just because Daniel replaced a mug?” My husband, Daniel Brooks, was livid, his face a mix of anger and wounded innocence. “Evelyn Hayes, I haven’t cheated, I haven’t been abusive. I just threw away that old mug you hated so much!” “You used to complain about it every single day, telling me to get a new one!” I scoffed, a cold laugh escaping my lips. “Exactly. That’s *precisely* why I’m divorcing you.” “Evelyn, are you feeling alright today? Did you take the wrong pills?” Daniel snatched the divorce papers from my hand, his face turning beet red with fury. The entire banquet hall fell into a stunned silence. My parents, my younger brother Kevin and his wife Ashley, all his relatives – every pair of eyes was glued to me. My mom pointed a trembling finger at me, her lips quivering. “Evelyn, what on earth are you doing?” “Today is your dad’s seventieth birthday! Don’t you dare make a scene!” My father-in-law, Daniel’s dad, Mr. Brooks Sr., slammed his wine glass onto the table, his face ashen with rage. “Nonsense!” I took a deep breath, my voice cutting through the tension, cold and clear. “I’m not crazy. I’m perfectly sane.” “Daniel, we’re getting a divorce.” “Why?” He took a step closer, almost a roar. “Because I f\*cking threw away an old mug?!” His veins bulged in his neck, his face contorted in anger. The guests immediately erupted into whispers and gasps. “What?” “Divorcing over a mug?” “What’s gotten into Mrs. Brooks?” “That’s the most ridiculous reason I’ve ever heard.” “Seriously, that old mug was an eyesore. It’s a good thing he threw it out, isn’t it?” “Daniel’s doing so well now, he got a new mug, and *she* wants to leave him?” My mother-in-law clutched her chest, looking ready to faint, and started crying at me. “Evelyn, what have we, the Brooks family, ever done to wrong you?” “Daniel has treated you like a queen for twenty years! Is this how you repay him?” “For twenty years, you put up with that mug, didn’t you?” “Now he finally decided to throw it out himself, and you’re making a fuss? What do you actually want?” Seeing his mother cry, Daniel became even more enraged. He grabbed my wrist. “Evelyn, you better explain yourself!” “If you don’t give me a reasonable explanation today, this isn’t over!” He yanked me, making me stumble, a sharp pain shooting up my wrist. I raised my other hand and slapped him hard across the face. *Smack!* The sharp sound echoed through the silent hall. Everyone was stunned speechless. Daniel froze, clutching his cheek, his eyes wide with disbelief. “You hit me?” “Wake up.” I shook off his hand, rubbing my reddened wrist. “The divorce papers are right here. You have three days to sign them.” “Three days from now, I’ll see you at the lawyer’s office.” With that, I didn’t spare him another glance and turned to leave. The entire banquet hall remained in a state of shock. “Evelyn Hayes, you stop right there!” Daniel’s furious roar came from behind me. My sister-in-law, Ashley, who always looked down on me, rushed forward, blocking my path, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Sister-in-law, don’t be so impulsive!” “My brother has been so good to you, our whole family has seen it! You can’t break his heart like this!” “Yeah, Evelyn,” A friend from my card group, who I usually got along with, also tried to persuade me. “All couples have their arguments, you make up after a spat. Don’t let a small fight turn into something so ugly.” “Exactly! It’s your dad’s birthday today, you’re just ruining his big day!” Each “well-meaning” piece of advice only made me seem more heartless, more unreasonable. I stopped, but didn’t turn back. “My affairs are none of your business.” “Evelyn!” My mom’s shrill voice pierced the air. “If you walk out that door, don’t ever come back!” I let out a cold laugh and walked out the door without looking back.

Back home, I collapsed onto the couch, feeling utterly drained. I wasn’t crazy, and I wasn’t being unreasonable. That old mug Daniel had used for twenty years was his most cherished possession. It was an old-fashioned olive green enamel mug, chipped in several places, revealing the dark metal beneath the enamel, with one spot even showing rust. I’d tried countless times to get him to replace it – with a delicate porcelain cup, a sleek ceramic one, even just a simple glass. He’d stubbornly refused every single time. He used to say it was the only valuable thing he owned back when he was dirt poor, a testament to his struggle, a reminder of his humble beginnings and ambitions. Whenever he caressed that chipped old mug, his eyes held a tenderness and nostalgia I could never quite understand. I always thought it was a tribute to his difficult past. I had no choice but to tolerate it. But last week, he just threw it away. Without any warning, the mug he called his “humble beginnings” was tossed into the kitchen trash can. When I asked him about it, he just said, indifferently: “Didn’t you always complain about it being old and broken?” “Now that I’ve thrown it out, why are you still making such a fuss?” My heart sank at that moment. Something was definitely off. How could he just throw away something he’d guarded for twenty years, something he called his “humble beginnings,” just like that? This change was too sudden to be innocent. That night, while he was showering, I secretly searched his briefcase. His phone, which he used to let me browse freely, now had a complex password. My small seed of suspicion instantly multiplied a thousandfold. Over the next few days, I paid close attention to everything. I noticed he started smiling at his phone a lot, a kind of smile I’d only seen twenty years ago when he was trying to win me over. He also spent more time talking on the phone on the balcony, always sneaking around. At that moment, I was almost certain: he was hiding something. Then, three days ago, I followed him. I watched him walk into an upscale coffee shop. Through the glass window, I saw the woman sitting opposite him. I knew her. Chloe Miller. Daniel’s college classmate, the one that got away, the unrequited love of his youth. I’d heard she married a wealthy businessman right after graduation and moved abroad. Now, she was back. And what made my blood run cold was the brand-new enamel mug sitting next to Chloe’s hand. It was identical to the one in our trash can. Daniel was looking at her with eyes full of doting affection, just like he used to look at that old, chipped mug. It wasn’t his “humble beginnings” he was guarding all these years. He was clearly guarding his unattainable old flame. *Ding-dong—* The doorbell interrupted my thoughts. I peeked through the peephole: it was my mom, along with a furious Daniel. I didn’t open the door. “Evelyn, open the door!” “I know you’re in there!” “You better explain yourself!” Daniel pounded loudly on the door. “Evelyn, please open the door. Let’s sit down and talk this through, alright?” My mom’s voice was tearful. I leaned against the door, saying nothing. “Evelyn, don’t push your luck!” Daniel’s patience ran out. “What do you think you are?” “You’re nothing but my pet!” “Think you can fly now that your wings are strong?” Listening to his cruel insults, I felt nothing but disgust. I pulled out my phone and sent Daniel a text. “Want to talk?” “Fine.” “Send your mom away first.” Soon, the noise outside the door subsided. About ten minutes later, Daniel called, his voice barely concealing his rage. “She’s gone. Open the door.” I opened the door, and he stormed in like an enraged lion. “Evelyn, what the hell are you doing? Are you losing your mind?” He shoved me against the wall, placing his hands on either side of me, trapping me between his chest and the cold surface. “Have I been too good to you all these years, made you forget who you are?” I looked at his face, so close to mine – the face I had loved for twenty years, but which now looked utterly alien and menacing. I smiled, a bitter laugh that threatened to bring tears to my eyes. “Daniel, aren’t you tired?” He froze, not understanding what I meant. “Aren’t you tired, pretending to be loving with a woman you don’t care for, day in and day out?” I raised my hand and gently touched his cheek. His face instantly changed.

Daniel’s pupils constricted violently, his eyes flashing with panic, but it was quickly replaced by explosive anger. “What the hell are you talking about?!” He grabbed my hand and violently threw it away. “Evelyn, I think you really *are* crazy!” “Whether I’m crazy or not, you know best.” I looked at him coldly. “Daniel, stop acting. It’s disgusting.” He stared at me intently, his chest heaving. After a long moment, he suddenly laughed, a cruel, mocking edge in his voice. “Fine. So what if I still think about Chloe? What are you going to do about it?” He spread his hands, a defiant, ‘what can you do to me?’ look on his face. “Evelyn, we’ve been married for twenty years. Do you have any proof?” “Without proof, you can scream it to the high heavens, it won’t matter.” “As for money, you won’t get a single penny.” “And Leo? He’s certainly not going with a crazy woman like you.” This was the man I had shared my bed with for twenty years. I looked at him, my heart growing colder with each passing second. “Proof?” I let out a soft laugh. “You’ll have it soon enough.” My phone rang just then. It was an unknown number. I answered it in front of Daniel, putting it on speaker. A soft, somewhat delicate female voice came from the other end. “Is this Evelyn? Evelyn, dear?” Daniel’s face turned ashen the moment he heard the voice. I raised an eyebrow, looking at him. He avoided my gaze, unable to meet my eyes. “This is Evelyn. Who is this?” I asked, feigning calmness. “It’s Chloe Miller.” The woman on the phone giggled. “Daniel hasn’t mentioned me to you?” “Oh?” I drew out the word, asking with feigned interest. “How should he mention you to me?” “Are you his white moonlight, or the one that left an indelible mark on his soul?” Chloe seemed surprised by my directness, paused for a second, then laughed even harder. “Evelyn, you’re so funny.” “I’m not calling for any particular reason, just wanted to give you some advice.” “Daniel is a sentimental man, he’s been through a lot.” “If my family hadn’t had problems back then, we would have been married years ago. You wouldn’t have even been in the picture.” “Honestly, you were just… a substitute.” “Now that I’m back, it’s time for him to get back on the right track, back to me.” “Evelyn, you’re a smart woman. I’m sure you know what to do, right?” “Holding onto something that doesn’t belong to you can be quite difficult.” “Oh, and by the way,” She said, as if suddenly remembering, her voice dripping with triumph. “That old mug Daniel threw away? It was the first gift I ever gave him.” “He said that looking at that mug was like looking at me.” “Now that I’m back, of course, he had to throw out the old one and replace it with the new one I bought him.” “He said it’s ‘out with the old, in with the new’.” I could clearly see the vein throbbing in Daniel’s forehead. His fists were clenched so tightly his knuckles were white. “Chloe! What the hell are you talking about?!” Daniel finally couldn’t hold back and roared into the phone. “Daniel, don’t be mean to me.” Chloe’s voice turned wounded and resentful. “I’m just helping you say what you’re too afraid to say.” “Aren’t you tired of this old and boring wife?” “You told me she was dull and uninteresting, like plain tap water, and that I was the fiery liquor that made you feel alive.” “Daniel, will you choose the plain water or the fiery liquor?” With that, she hung up. I folded my arms, watching Daniel, composed and at ease. “Now, do I need to find evidence?” His face cycled through red, then white, a truly spectacular display. He suddenly lunged forward, snatching my phone and slamming it to the ground. The screen instantly shattered into a spiderweb of cracks. “Crazy!” “You’re both crazy!” He paced the room like a caged animal, agitated, before stopping in front of me, his eyes bloodshot. “Evelyn, that woman is insane!” “She just wants to destroy our family!” “You can’t believe her!” “Oh really?” I countered. “So ‘out with the old, in with the new’ and ‘plain tap water versus fiery liquor’ – she made all that up too?” Daniel’s body froze. “That was… that was just her trying to get a rise out of you…” Daniel’s gaze darted around, concocting a lie that wouldn’t convince even himself.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “299161”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #现实主义Realistic

While waiting for Blake to order, I scrolled through a post. The poster asked: “My boyfriend loves me in stockings, but his girlfriend isn’t a fan. How can I subtly get my stockings into his place?” She also posted a picture of her long, slender, pale legs, which had netizens drooling. I secretly scoffed, *Poor girl, what a scumbag she’s dealing with.* But then I saw the tattoo on the poster’s right leg, and I froze. It was identical to my boyfriend’s. And I, well, I definitely don’t like wearing stockings. I zoomed in on the picture, and my breath hitched. That tattoo… how could I not recognize it? Blake has an identical one on his right ankle. He told me it was his lucky charm, with the letter ‘B’ for ‘Blake’. I was with him last year on his birthday when he got it. He was grimacing in pain, squeezing my hand tight. *How could it be… such a coincidence?* I abruptly looked up at Blake, who was sitting across from me. He had just finished ordering and flashed me a tender smile: “Babe, I ordered your favorite cod. Make sure you eat up later.” His smile was as warm and gentle as ever. I took a deep breath, trying to keep my voice steady, and turned my phone screen towards him: “Blake, check out this post. Pretty funny, right? This person’s tattoo looks just like yours.” His smile instantly froze. It was only for a split second, but I clearly caught the flicker of panic in his eyes. He quickly averted his gaze, barely even looking at the screen, his voice stiff: “Huh? What tattoo? There are tons of similar ones online. Must be a coincidence.” He reached out to push my phone away, his movement carrying a hint of barely perceptible urgency. My heart sank. Normally, if he saw a similar tattoo, he’d be excited to discuss it, maybe even brag about the special meaning his tattoo held. Not avoid it like the plague. “Really?” I pulled my phone back. “But it really looks so similar, even the little ‘B’ is in almost the same spot. Do you think it’s from the same parlor? Or… maybe it’s the exact same person?” I added, half-joking, half-testing him. “Chloe…” Blake’s voice suddenly rose, making a nearby table of customers glance over. He seemed to realize his outburst, lowering his voice, his brows furrowed, “What are you implying? You’re accusing me? A random post, some random picture from the internet, and you’re suddenly so suspicious?” His tone was full of accusation: “I knew something was off with you today. So this is what you’ve been obsessing over? Can’t you stop being so sensitive? Just trust me for once, okay?” Sensitive? Suspicious? If it weren’t for that tattoo, I might actually have doubted myself, wondered if I was overthinking things. But now, his reaction, his gaslighting, only solidified my suspicions. I didn’t say anything, just quietly watched him. My silence seemed to provoke him, or rather, made him even guiltier. “Forget it. Looks like dinner’s ruined. You can just sit here and stew in your suspicions.” His face was flushed with anger and embarrassment, his eyes darting, unwilling to meet my gaze. “I can’t stand you like this. Every single day, I have no idea what goes on in that head of yours.” With that, he turned and walked out. Blake, what are you so guilty about?

I tried to go to the poster’s profile, but the post had vanished. My heart sank. Undeterred, I exited and re-entered the app, even trying the search function. I found the username, but clicking it led to that suffocating blankness. Not only was the profile inaccessible, but the scandalous post itself now showed “[This post has been deleted]”. That was fast. Only a mere ten minutes or so had passed since Blake left. Did he contact her immediately after walking out? Or was “she,” the one who posted, keeping an eye on the comments, saw my questioning, and, knowing she was guilty, quickly hid everything? Either way, it pointed to the same undeniable fact. Blake is hiding something. I dialed my best friend, Skylar. “Skylar, I need a favor. Urgent.” Skylar heard the urgency in my voice and immediately dropped her usual banter: “Tell me, what’s wrong, Chloe? Your voice sounds off. Did you argue with Blake?” That’s my best friend. We grew up together. Her intuition is spot on. I briefly told her what happened. I heard Skylar’s furious gasp from the other end of the line: “Blake, that bastard, how dare he?” “Don’t curse yet, I need your help.” I quickly cut her off. “Skylar, you have connections. Help me find all the reputable tattoo parlors in the city that can do complex designs like this. The key is to check if, in the last year, there’s been a female client with a sun totem tattoo on her ankle, with the letter ‘B’ in the center. Anonymous forum info is too vague; we need solid leads.” “Got it.” Skylar immediately agreed. “Leave it to me. I’ll dig through hell and high water to get you those clues. That scumbag, he’s got a death wish.” Just as I hung up, my screen lit up again. I frowned and answered. “Hello? Is that Chloe? It’s Dustin.” Loud music blared from the other end. It was Dustin, Blake’s so-called ‘best friend’ who was really just a party buddy, his voice urgent: “Oh, Chloe, you gotta come quickly. Blake’s totally drunk. He’s really upset because of you and he’s making a scene here. None of us can stop him.” Because of me? Making a scene? I scoffed inwardly. How long had it been since he left the restaurant? And he’s already drowning his sorrows? He’s really putting on a show. “Address.” My voice was cold. Dustin rattled off the name of a KTV and a room number – one of the most expensive places in the city. Before hanging up, he ‘kindly’ added: “Chloe, when you get here, maybe say a few soft words to Blake? He’s really upset today, keeps talking about you, saying you don’t trust him enough. We can’t talk any sense into him.” Every word was a veiled accusation that I was being unreasonable, forcing my boyfriend to drink himself senseless. I said nothing, just hung up. My rational side told me not to go, but a gut feeling drove me to see it for myself. I wanted to see how they planned to play out this drama.

I pushed the door open to find about seven or eight people, a mix of men and women, lounging on the sofas. Blake was sprawled in the middle, mumbling incoherently, definitely playing the part of a drunk. Empty liquor bottles were scattered everywhere, on the table and on the floor – a complete mess. Dustin saw me and immediately came over, his eyes darting: “Chloe, you finally made it! Come see Blake.” I ignored him and walked straight to Blake. He seemed to sense someone, struggled to open his eyes, and seeing it was me, instantly put on a pained, wronged expression, reaching out to pull me: “Chloe… you came… you don’t know how upset I am… why don’t you trust me…” Over-the-top acting, reeking of alcohol. I avoided his hand and asked coldly, “How much did you drink?” A girl nearby cut in, her tone flirtatious: “Oh, come on, Blake’s heartbroken today, he’s in a bad mood, so he drank a bit more. Don’t be mad, Chloe. It’s normal for guys to let loose once in a while.” Dustin quickly chimed in, rubbing his hands together, looking awkward: “Yeah, Chloe, Blake was hosting today, he ordered all the good stuff, and everyone was having such a great time that… well, we drank a bit much. See here…” He gestured to the table full of empty bottles, his intention crystal clear. Sure enough, another guy piped up: “Chloe’s here, perfect! Blake just said he’d cover the whole bill today. Why don’t you settle up, Chloe? So Blake can rest easy?” “Yeah, yeah, pay the bill!” A few others chimed in, their eyes glinting with calculation and eager anticipation for the show. My gaze swept over the empty red wine bottles on the table. I noticed fake empty bottles mixed with real ones. Probably scrounged from some recycling bin to make it look like a bigger party, right? Did they really think I’d never been to a place like this? My eyes finally landed on the bill, which had a shocking total. *Huh.* I let out a mirthless laugh. So, this is what they were waiting for. They wanted to treat me like a sucker, call me here to pay this exorbitant bill? Using my money to boost his ego, soothe his ‘wounded’ heart, and let his ‘friends’ enjoy a free night out? What a clever scheme. I looked at Dustin, who was eagerly waiting for me to pull out my card, and then at Blake, who was seemingly passed out but whose eyelids subtly twitched as he peeked at me. I scoffed: “Whoever ordered the drinks, whoever promised to pay, should be the one to settle the bill.” “Do I look like a sucker to you?” The words had barely left my mouth when Blake, who was supposedly ‘dead drunk’ on the sofa, suddenly sat bolt upright. 3 Blake sat bolt upright, with no trace of drunkenness on his face. “Chloe!” He roared, his face mottled red and white, whether from holding his breath or genuine anger, I couldn’t tell. “What are you doing? My friends are here! You’re going to embarrass me like this?”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “299160”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #现实主义Realistic