Author: Momo Chan

I snuck into the city where my online boyfriend lives to surprise him. But instead of a romantic reunion, I overheard him talking trash with his boys: “What’s the use of a sexy voice if she won’t even send a pic? She’s definitely a troll.” “If the campus queen hadn’t rejected me, I wouldn’t waste my time sexting someone like that.” “It’s bad enough she’s probably ugly, but she’s thirsty as hell. Kept demanding to ‘verify the goods’ before we meet.” His friend laughed, “So you showed her?” My boyfriend smirked. “Yeah. But it wasn’t mine. It was Xavier’s.” “Holy sh*t,” his friend gasped. “Your roommate? You said he was packing at least 8 inches. For real?” “Of course it’s real. Why would I lie?” “Xavier’s a real one. Saw I didn’t want to send nudes, so he offered to be my stunt double.” The group erupted in laughter. I laughed too. I’ve heard of hand doubles and leg doubles, but a “d*ck double”? That’s a first. I need this man’s file on my desk in three minutes. 1 I’m a “good girl.” Polite, modest, well-read, and respectful. Optimistic, cheerful, hardworking. Bullsh*t. That’s just the persona I maintain in front of the elders. The real me… Rebellious, spicy, wild at heart, petty, and definitely not to be messed with. And I have cravings. In every sense of the word. After high school graduation, I spent my days scrolling through hot guys on TikTok. Lean swimmers, golden retrievers, cold and aloof scholar types—liked and saved them all. Scrolling and scrolling, my heart started racing, and I got restless. So, I got myself an online boyfriend. Julian. One year older than me, currently in college. 6’0″ barefoot, broad shoulders, a tapered waist, abs you could grate cheese on. Most importantly, he’s allegedly packing 8 inches. I can’t believe I stumbled upon such a prime specimen. Life is good. Surprisingly, Julian turned out to be an upperclassman at the university I was about to attend. It felt like destiny. But Julian knew nothing about this. I kept it a secret because I wanted to surprise him when the semester started. To keep the mystery alive, I never sent him a face pic. Julian got annoyed about it, saying I wasn’t being sincere. He sounded so dejected on the phone. His hometown was just a city over from mine, less than thirty minutes by train. After thinking it over, I decided to just go find him. 2 To give me “security,” Julian reported everything to me. He even texted me where he was eating with his friends. Saved me the trouble of fishing for info. I followed the GPS and easily found the BBQ joint where they were hanging out. Among dozens of tables at the roadside stall, I spotted Julian instantly. He was even better looking in person than in his photos. It was midsummer, the wind was hot, and as it hit my face, my cheeks felt even hotter. I steadied my breathing and was about to walk up. Suddenly, Julian slammed his beer glass on the table, a mocking look in his eyes: “What’s the use of a sexy voice if she won’t even send a pic? She’s definitely a troll!” I stopped in my tracks. The blush on my face receded like a tide. Julian continued, “Just playing around. If the campus queen hadn’t rejected me and I wasn’t bored out of my mind, I wouldn’t even give her the time of day.” “It’s bad enough she’s probably ugly, but she’s thirsty as hell. Kept demanding I send nudes.” I pursed my lips, fists clenching involuntarily. Wait a minute. He was the one who bragged about his size and asked if I wanted to see. Why wouldn’t I look? Free show. Now he’s acting like I forced him? Amidst the jeering, someone asked, “So you showed her?” Julian smirked, looking proud. “Yeah. But it wasn’t mine. It was Xavier’s.” “Holy sh*t,” his friend gasped. “Your roommate? You said he was packing at least 8 inches. For real?” Julian took a drag of his cigarette. “Of course it’s real. Why would I lie?” “Xavier’s a real one. Saw I didn’t want to send nudes, so he offered to be my stunt double.” The table went silent for a second, then burst into laughter. “Bro, I’m dead. So this relationship is superficially two people, but actually two people plus a…” More laughter. Julian frowned. “What relationship? It’s just sexting. She’s basically my dog. Once summer break is over, I’m kicking this ugly troll to the curb immediately.” Hearing Julian say these things again, I surprisingly didn’t feel much. Because right now, my mind was filled with that impactful photo. What was his name again? Oh, right. Xavier… 3 Sitting on the train back home, I started scrolling through Julian’s Instagram. But the guy was too narcissistic; he posted nothing but himself. I sighed. Looks like if I want to see what Xavier looks like, I’ll have to wait for school to start. I felt a pang of regret for a second, then opened TikTok to scroll through hot guys again. Just as I was about to arrive, I swiped onto a campus interview video. The topic was “Who is your campus heartthrob?” I wasn’t interested and was about to swipe away. But suddenly, I heard the name “Xavier.” The arrival announcement chimed. I turned up the volume on my earbuds as I walked out. I listened several times. I definitely didn’t mishear. And the university name matched. I thought back to that photo… Campus heartthrob Xavier. Pretty wild in private, huh? 4 As the semester approached, Julian grew colder. He took days to reply to messages. I gritted my teeth. If he wasn’t still useful to me, I would’ve blocked him ages ago. That night, looking at the one-sided chat log, I sent Julian a sticker, refusing to give up. This time, Julian replied quickly: “Hey, I don’t think we’re suitable. We can be friends, but let’s forget about dating.” I was lying on my bed with a face mask on, legs crossed. Seeing this message, my eyes lit up. I’ve been waiting for this day! I typed with a smirk: “Why? Did I do something wrong? Finger guns sticker” Julian replied: “No, don’t overthink it. It’s my problem.” I rolled my eyes silently. Classic f*ckboy line. Zero creativity. Inner monologue over, time to unleash my acting skills. Crying sticker “You don’t need to comfort me. I know I’m not good enough for you. You deserve a better girl. I wish you happiness.” Julian paused, his heart inexplicably twitching. A while later, he replied: “You’re great. Be confident, babe. It’s me who let you down.” “If you have any requests, just ask. I’ll fulfill them.” I got excited, ripped off my face mask, sat up straight, and voice-called Julian directly. When he picked up, I sniffled first, adding a hint of a sob to my voice. “Will you really agree to any request?” Julian gave a solemn “Mmhmm.” “Actually, I kind of know you’re not confident about your looks. Don’t worry, I don’t care. If you want to meet me, I can right now…” “Then introduce me to a new boyfriend.” I really didn’t have the patience to listen to his rambling anymore, so I interrupted. Julian froze. Three seconds later, he reacted: “Huh?” 5 I sighed. “Julian, actually, from the moment I saw your photo, I knew it was impossible for us.” “You’re so handsome. How could you like an ordinary girl like me? Being friends with you is already enough for me.” Julian, who was originally annoyed, instantly deflated. His vanity was satisfied, and he felt guilty at the same time. So he said, “Chloe, don’t belittle yourself. You’re great. I… I’ll introduce my roommate to you right now.” “He’s also very handsome. Many beautiful girls at our school chase him, but he rejected them all.” “This shows he doesn’t care about looks. You guys chat, maybe you’ll hit it off.” I stayed silent for a moment, then sighed softly. “Okay, I’ll try.” Then I asked casually, “By the way, what’s his name?” “Xavier. His name is Xavier.” Success! My eyes curved into crescents. I suppressed my excitement and steadied my breathing. “Okay, I’ll add him on WeChat first. Send me his contact.” “Julian, thank you.” Julian laughed. “Don’t mention it. Don’t forget, we’re friends now.”

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The day Julian—my father’s “seventh brother”—and I were planning to go public with our relationship, my father sent him on a suicide mission. Julian told me that if he made it back alive, he would marry me in the grandest wedding the city had ever seen. I turned down every marriage proposal that came my way and waited for him for three years. When he finally returned, covered in scars, walking with a limp, and missing a finger, he knelt before my father. “Boss, I want to trade the credit for this mission for a favor. I want to marry Bella.” Behind him stood a girl named Bella, timidly cradling a very pregnant belly. My father instinctively looked at me. Everyone in the room held their breath, expecting me to tear the place apart and scream until my lungs gave out. Instead, I simply smiled, bowed my head, and said, “Welcome to the family, Aunt Bella.” Three years’ worth of marriage proposals were piled up in the corners of my room. I walked in, pulled one from the stack at random, and agreed to marry him. On my wedding day, Julian hijacked the convoy with a gun in his hand. “If you go through with this, I’ll kill him.” Chapter 1 My father has seven brothers-in-arms, men who have bled for the family business. Julian Vance is number seven. He was the most handsome of my seven “uncles,” and the one I had loved since I was a teenager. My father later said that if he had known about us, he never would have sent Julian away. Out of all the lieutenants, Julian was the best fighter. If he couldn’t survive the mission, the others would have just been cannon fodder. But that was three years ago. “Miss Stella! Seven… Mr. Vance is back!” My eyes snapped open. I ran out of my room barefoot. The butler tried to stop me. “Miss…” Seeing his hesitation, I stopped. I knew something had changed. “I understand.” I grabbed an umbrella and walked out. In my rush, the hem of my dress dragged in the mud. The main hall was packed. My six other uncles stood under the eaves, looking at Julian with a mix of hatred and relief. I didn’t understand where the hatred came from until I saw him. “Dad.” Everyone looked at me. My father, usually radiating an aura of menace, softened when he saw me. “What’s going on? Why is he kneeling?” Julian glanced at me. It was a cold look, the kind you give a stranger. He slammed his head against the floorboards. “Boss, she and the child are innocent. I don’t want to put them in a difficult position.” “I’m begging you, Boss. Begging you, Miss Stella. Let us be.” He bowed his head again. In a daze, the pieces clicked together. A girl walked in from the rain, cautious and fearful. She was about my age. Under her white dress, her belly was swollen with pregnancy. She knelt beside Julian, weeping silently. My father fingered the prayer beads in his hand, saying nothing. Julian probably didn’t expect his request to be this difficult. After all, our relationship had been a secret. No one knew. But he forgot one thing. If I hadn’t confessed the truth to my father years ago, I would have been married off for a business alliance long before I could wait three years for a ghost. Everyone in the room looked at me with pity. I look docile, but everyone knows I have a temper that could burn this house down. Uncle Six walked up behind me, trying to comfort me. I raised my hand, cutting him off. My eyes never left Julian. Three years. He had aged. A deep scar cut through his eyebrow, he had a limp, and a finger was gone. Obviously, he had been through hell. “Uncle Seven is a hero of the Chase family. We don’t make heroes kneel,” I said, my voice steady. My father waved his hand, visibly emotional, and signaled for Julian to rise. “Dad, I remember next month on the 3rd is a lucky date. Let’s arrange the wedding for Uncle Seven and Aunt Bella.” My father, usually stoic, choked up for a second. The other uncles lowered their heads in silence. Only the couple in the rain hugged each other and cried tears of joy. Because next month on the 3rd was the date my father had originally picked for my wedding to Julian. He had chosen three dates over the years. This was the last one. He told me I’d eventually catch a date when Julian came home. The man came home. The proposal happened. But the bride wasn’t me. Meeting Julian’s tender gaze directed at the girl, I snapped, “Is everyone mute? Pay your respects!” The courtyard full of bodyguards shouted in unison, “Welcome home, Mr. Vance! Hello, Mrs. Vance!” Chapter 2 I spun around under my umbrella and walked away. I could feel the burning stares on my back. Uncle Six chased after me. “Stella, honey, I’m so sorry.” I pushed open my bedroom door. Proposals from various powerful families were stacked like firewood in the corners. “Uncle Six, out of all these candidates, who has the most value?” “With the Chase family’s current standing, marriage is just icing on the cake. We don’t need value.” “Then who’s the best looking?” Seeing Uncle Six hesitate, I pulled a file from the middle of the stack. “Silas Sterling.” “Maybe pick another one.” “Why?” A cool, lazy voice drifted in from the window. “Because he has a bad reputation. He only knows how to party, drink, and spend money. He knows jack squat about business or power. He’s a famous waste of space.” I looked towards the window, then down at the photo in the file. “You look better than your picture.” Uncle Six pointed at the man sitting on my balcony railing. “You punk! You dare climb the Chase family’s walls? Do you want to lose your legs?” I shoved the file into Uncle Six’s chest. “Him. I want him.” Silas Sterling was lounging on the outer wall of my balcony, legs crossed. Hearing this, he sat up straighter and looked me over. “Clean up your mess with Julian Vance. In seven days, I’ll bring the convoy to pick you up.” With that, he flipped off the high wall and vanished. Uncle Six took a deep breath, his face red with anger. “That little bastard really is good for nothing.” “Not good for nothing,” I murmured. “At least his intel is good.” If a “waste” like him knew about me and Julian, he wasn’t a waste at all. In the evening, I went to the garden gazebo. Julian was waiting there. He sat across from me, dismissing the servants with a glance. I sipped my tea, reading a financial magazine, and asked casually, “Is the child yours?” He didn’t answer. He just started peeling lotus seeds for me, a habit from the old days. “Miss Stella… uh, Seven, you’re here too. Sorry to interrupt. Miss, here are the files you asked for.” My bodyguard dropped a dossier on the table without hesitation. The top photo was of the girl Julian brought back. I leaned back and lit a cigarette. Julian shifted uncomfortably. “I wronged you,” he said finally. “Her appearance… she gave me a desire for a peaceful life. She can wait, but the baby can’t. I want to give them a legitimate identity. I don’t want my kid born a bastard.” “If you wanted a peaceful life, you shouldn’t have messed with me in the first place.” Julian reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a string of ancient coins. “Three years ago, this was the antique set you wanted most. I traveled North and South. I finally collected them all.” He put his hand over mine, his eyes intense. “You think a bracelet is going to make me let this go? Is this the first day you’ve met me?” Without hesitation, Julian slid off the bench and knelt before me. “I’m sorry.” “Consider my life yours. Can you just… let her be?” I smiled and stood up. I took one last drag of my cigarette, looked around for an ashtray, and found none. Julian raised his open palms, his eyes dark and resigned. I crushed the burning cigarette out in the center of his hand. “Then go die now.” Chapter 3 Julian looked at me in shock. “Is this how you used those sweet words to trick that little girl?” I asked. “Uncle Seven, if pretty words could solve problems, the Chase family wouldn’t be sitting on the throne we occupy today.” I walked toward the banquet hall. My bodyguard caught up. “Miss, you forgot this.” He was holding the antique coin bracelet. “It’s worth some money. Keep it. It’s yours.” “Thank you, Miss.” In the banquet hall, my uncles welcomed me with smiles. As soon as I sat down, Su Yueying—Bella—grabbed my hand. “Niece, I heard you and Julian are very close. That means you listen to him. After we get married next month, you should visit us often, just like before.” She smiled warmly, but there was a flicker of challenge in her eyes. “Stella, let’s add each other on WeChat.” She pulled out a phone. The lock screen was a photo of her and Julian. She tapped her forehead dramatically. “Oh, silly me. I’m using Julian’s old phone. Niece, Julian didn’t save names on this account. Which one is you?” She looked at me with a feigned innocence. Across the table, the uncles sensed the tension. I glanced at it. It was indeed Julian’s old phone. Since she wanted to know so badly, I didn’t mind telling her. “How could there be no name? The one saved as ‘Baby.’ That’s me.” Bella’s face stiffened. She didn’t expect me to be so shameless. “You two were really close. Is this it?” She held up the phone, ostensibly showing me, but actually showing everyone. The screen was filled with walls of text from me. Asking where he was. Telling him I missed him. Three years of unrequited messages to a dead number. “My phone broke, so I’m using this one. Niece, Julian probably never saw these messages. Should I forward them to his new number?” Julian walked in at that moment. I signaled my bodyguard behind me. “Show that to Julian.” “Yes, Miss.” He snatched the phone from Bella and handed it to Julian. Julian didn’t react to the chat history, but he froze when he saw the bracelet on the bodyguard’s wrist. “Where did you get that?” “Miss Stella told me to show it to you.” “I mean the bracelet. Where did you get it?” “Miss Stella gave it to me.” I couldn’t read the look in Julian’s eyes. He pulled out a chair and sat next to me. “Sitting here might make it hard to explain things to your fiancée,” I said. “Not sitting here would make it hard to explain things to you.” He stayed by my side through the whole dinner, occasionally placing food on my plate. Near the end, he suddenly said, cold and low, “Why did you give away something you liked?” I picked at a piece of fish. “Are you talking about the bracelet, or the person?” Silence. I could feel Bella’s anger radiating from across the table. I saw her clench her fists under the table. But I didn’t care about her feelings. “Still so willful after three years. You really need a husband to manage you.” “I’m done eating. Enjoy, everyone.” I wiped my mouth, grabbed my bag, and left the table. He thought I was upset. Truthfully, I just didn’t need him anymore. In all likelihood, I would be married before he was. “Miss, gentlemen, Boss Chase asks everyone to move to the front parlor.” I headed that way. The massive parlor was filled with red chests. Fifty or sixty of them, tied with red silk and ‘Double Happiness’ symbols. My father sat at the head, holding a list, checking the dowry items one by one. “Is this… is this the dowry for me?” Bella covered her mouth in shock. “So much?” Julian smiled gently and patted her head. My uncles started asking about wedding details. “Have you picked a dress?” “Going tomorrow.” “Good. When you get back, go to my vineyard and pick the wine. Take whatever you want.” “Thank you, Third Brother.” They chatted back and forth. If I didn’t know better, I would have thought these were genuinely gifts for Julian. Until the butler ran in, grinning ear to ear. “Boss! Miss Stella! Silas Sterling is here!” Chapter 4 Julian turned around, looking confused. “Why is he here? The Chases and the Sterlings don’t interact much.” Bella leaned against the wall and dry heaved. “Julian… I don’t feel well.” “I’ll take you to the restroom.” Before leaving, Julian instructed Uncle Six, “Six, if Big Brother asks, tell him Bella isn’t well. I’m taking her out for a moment.” “Go ahead.” The Sterling family entourage entered. Silas was wearing a flashy red suit and winked at me. My dad welcomed him with a laugh. “Come, sit.” “What is the Sterling family doing here? Why is Big Brother so happy?” Julian asked when he returned. “Second Brother, do you know?” “Third Brother, what’s up?” Except for Uncle Six, the other uncles were scratching their heads in confusion while maintaining polite smiles. “Stella chose Silas Sterling for marriage. They are here to propose.” “Stella chose him herself? But isn’t she…” They looked suspicious but turned to congratulate the Sterlings. “Walk with me?” Silas asked. “Sure.” Silas walked me to the backyard. It was his first time at the Chase estate, and he looked around with blatant curiosity. “Julian… I mean, Seven… what did I do wrong?” Bella’s voice drifted from around a corner. “She’s the pampered princess with the Chase family backing her. What about me? What about our three years? She’s doing this on purpose. I can’t swallow this insult.” “If she were doing it on purpose, you wouldn’t have a chance to marry me. Don’t bring this up again.” Silas stopped suddenly. He looked back at me with a gaze that screamed… drama. “I’m tired. Shall we sit?” He dove straight for the stone table in the bamboo grove. He wasn’t tired. He wanted to eavesdrop. “Julian, why did you change as soon as you came back? From the moment you saw Stella Chase, you’ve been acting weird! Are you afraid of your boss, giving her face? Or are you not over her?” Julian went silent. I looked down at wedding dress designs on my phone. Silas had good taste; the styles he picked were stunning. “I don’t like her. She’s just my niece.” “Don’t think I don’t know. Yesterday, you were looking at her photo and you…” Bang. I slammed my hand on the stone table. The two people around the corner looked over in terror. And the man sitting opposite me, Silas, jumped up like he was watching the Super Bowl. “What did Uncle Seven do to Miss Stella’s photo?” he shouted. I glanced at Silas. He shut his mouth instantly. “Stella… Stella…” “Uncle Seven can fail to control his woman, that’s fine. But if even a whisper of gossip that damages the Chase family reputation gets out, my father will clean up the mess for you.” Julian didn’t answer. His eyes fixed on Silas. “Miss Stella, finding common ground with trash like him? You’ve really lowered your standards in three years.” Silas didn’t get angry. He laughed. “Maybe Miss Stella likes my type.” Julian looked at me with certainty. “She’s always been proud and noble. She only likes the strongest. A glorious waste of space like you wouldn’t catch her eye.” Silas raised an eyebrow and nodded. It’s true what my dad says: never speak too confidently. I grabbed Silas and walked back. I showed him a dress on my phone. “This one.”

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On my twenty-sixth birthday, I was ready to die. Instead, I unexpectedly received a sketchbook. It was a posthumous belonging of the late genius artist, Julian Vance. Inside, the drawings were of me. When I was sixteen. 1. I held the sketchbook, staring at the signature “Julian Vance” in the corner, lost in thought. This famous genius painter was my high school classmate, same graduating year. But in my memory, we barely interacted. The last I heard of him was on the news, about that plane crash. This was his belongings, yet it was sent to me. Strange. I glanced at the flickering candles on my birthday cake. Originally, I planned to blow them out and end it all. Now… Whatever. A few minutes won’t change anything. I opened the sketchbook. There were a lot of what looked like doodles. Minimalist strokes, but heavy with oppression. A shattered moon, a cracked crystal ball, twisted forests. I vaguely remembered reading a post about Julian, saying this genius artist suffered from mental health issues since he was a teenager, which was why he rarely appeared in public. In high school, he was indeed quiet and withdrawn. But because he had a beautiful face, he was still the topic of many conversations. I flipped through the pages absent-mindedly. One second I was wondering if this was sent to the wrong person, the next I stopped on a page. It was a sketch of a girl lying on a windowsill. Face scrunched up, looking like she carried the weight of the world. Despite the simple strokes, I recognized her instantly— That was high school me. Below it, a small line of text— “She died by the window for three days.” I froze. 2. I had a severe cold once in high school. Because I was literally studying by a “cold window” in the dead of winter. I opened the window to let the freezing wind keep me awake. And memorized chemistry formulas in the icy draft. I had sworn to redeem myself from the shame of getting a 24 on my last chemistry test, so I crammed for three days before finals. The result was glorious—I caught a fever right before the exam. It was the most tragic exam of my life. While my classmates were scribbling furiously in the exam hall, I was hooked up to an IV drip in the hospital. The more I thought about it, the more unwilling I felt. So, while on the drip, I wrote an 800-word essay about my tragic experience and DM’d it to the official “Person of the Year” account on Instagram. I typed until I saw stars, only for my mom to snatch my phone away. She read my essay, deeply moved, and then told me that account was a fake bot. I was stunned, then wailed until I passed out. Later, my dad heard about it. Touched by my dedication, he took my essay to the principal and begged for a makeup exam. When I heard the news, I cried again. Because I had forgotten everything I memorized. 3. What a vivid sixteen. I chuckled involuntarily, but my smile vanished when I glanced at the family portrait on the desk. My gaze returned to the drawing, confusion rising again. Why would Julian draw me? I looked at the angle in the sketch and remembered the Art Building was directly opposite my classroom. So, I just happened to be in his line of sight? I flipped to the next page. This time, Julian’s style changed. He drew a four-panel comic with a black gel pen. The strokes were extremely casual. In each panel, a tiny figure was sneaking food into her mouth in various secretive postures. Hiding behind a textbook, bending down pretending to pick something up, covering a yawn while popping a candy. This time, there was only one word below— “Tsk.” Hm? What does that mean? Disdain? Come on, who doesn’t need a little sustenance during class? We were high school students, surviving on caffeine and hope from 6 AM to 11 PM! 4. Intrigued, I flipped further. Several consecutive pages followed this comic format. Me dozing off in class, staring out the window in a daze, sneaking a novel under the desk, scratching my head over a test paper. The chibi figures had a weirdly comical vibe, like reading a manga. As I looked, I suddenly realized something. Wait, don’t art students have classes? How did he have time to observe others? And this observation seemed to have become his hobby. I kept flipping. Below a series of drawings of me laughing in various ways, a line of small text appeared— “How can she be so happy?” I paused. Looking at those words, even though the writer wasn’t there, I could almost hear his tone. Not mockery, not sarcasm, just pure confusion. I wasn’t completely oblivious to Julian back then. Not long after freshman year started, rumors spread about a beautiful boy in the art class. Yes, beautiful. Being the nosy person I was, when it was our class’s turn for hallway duty, I swapped shifts specifically to check the art class. Just to openly see how beautiful he really was. There were many artistic guys and girls, but Julian still stood out. I saw him instantly. That silhouette by the window. When he turned to look, the light from the window grazed his eyes, turning them amber. Summer hadn’t faded, yet he was as cold as a handful of winter snow. Smelling of butterflies. I was dazed for a second. Because I witnessed the embodiment of male beauty. The impact of that face on my teenage self lasted a long time. To this day, I still remember asking my mom at the dinner table if she could sponsor my plastic surgery trip to Korea after she won at Mahjong. She didn’t even look up. She just told me to get lost. 5. So Julian, someone so beautiful, wasn’t easily happy either? Remembering the rumors about his mental illness, I pulled out my phone and searched his name. The first result was the news of his death in the plane crash. My fingers trembled, and I scrolled past it. I found his bio. His father was a local tycoon, his mother a professor at a prestigious art college. With such a background, his life should have been comfortable. At the bottom was a link titled: “Genius Painter’s Mental Illness: The Hidden Truth…” I clicked it. A wall of text explained that his businessman father was rarely home, and his professor mother controlled him strictly from a young age—high-pressure training, harsh criticism, etc. The comments section had alleged insiders claiming Julian was locked in a dark room if his drawings weren’t good enough, causing childhood trauma. Online info is hard to verify, but combined with those strange drawings, maybe Julian really had depressive episodes. I went back to the sketchbook. This time, the drawing showed me standing gloomily in front of a microphone, holding a piece of paper, with a glistening-spectacled old man standing behind me with his hands behind his back. I squinted. If I’m not mistaken, that’s my high school principal, Mr. Xie. Dead memories suddenly attacked me. That was the most humiliating detention self-reflection of my student life. Bar none. 6. In high school, we had three afternoon periods, the last being study hall. My stomach was weak back then. I had the runs twice a day. My grandma often scolded my parents, saying it was because they didn’t cook for me when I was little. My parents claimed the culprit was spicy strips. I didn’t dare speak amidst the chaos. Because only I knew the real killers were the 50-cent street snacks and junk food. Anyway, study hall was usually used by me to solve my physiological needs. To offset the guilt of skipping study hall, I decided to absorb some literary culture even on the toilet. So I always brought a classic novel. That day, it was The Catcher in the Rye. I read a particularly sad part and, thinking of my own late grandmother, started bawling in the stall. I heard water running outside, but didn’t pay attention. Soon after, hurried footsteps approached, followed by the booming voice of the Dean of Students, aka “The Exterminator”— “Student, what’s wrong in there? Are you okay?” I was so scared my hand shook, and the book dropped to the floor.

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During the hardest, poorest year of my life, I intentionally crushed two of my fingers in a factory machine to pay for my grandmother’s $30,000 surgery. The factory owner frowned, his face etched with genuine pain, and offered me $80,000 in compensation. Guilt-ridden, I only accepted the $30,000 I needed. Years passed. Grandma has long since left this world. Then I saw the news trending on X (Twitter). That factory had burned to the ground. The owner died of a “heart attack.” His wife vanished without a trace. Their twelve-year-old son was sent to foster care. Looking at the helpless, terrified eyes on my screen, I poured the pills I was about to swallow down the drain. Fine… let’s live one more time. For the sake of that thirty grand. 1 Even after all these years, whenever I look at my severed fingers, a wave of guilt washes over me. But if I went back, I know I’d do it again. Because back then, I truly had nowhere else to turn. Grandma found me by a dumpster in a snowstorm. If not for her, I would have frozen to death on that bitter night. She got stomach cancer. The doctor said surgery and follow-up treatment would cost at least $80,000. We sold everything—our dilapidated studio apartment, the worthless furniture—everything we had. It only amounted to $50,000. We were still short $30,000. “Don’t treat it, Tara. I’ve lived long enough. I can’t let you sleep on the streets for me,” she said. I shook my head. “I’d rather sleep on the streets than live without you, Grandma. We… we have to treat it.” Grandma held me in her arms, her sighs mixed with sobs. We cried together. It was a desperate, freezing night. We both knew that $30,000 was an astronomical figure for us. Where could we possibly scrape that together? Grandma had no family. She only had me. But I… I didn’t have the money to save her. However, at nineteen, I had infinite guts and courage to face any difficulty! When I shoved my fingers into the rapidly spinning gears, the pain nearly made me black out. But in the panicked eyes of my coworkers, I saw hope. Grandma could be saved! It was the only door I could open for her. 2 The factory owner, Mr. Miller, was a good man. By the time he rushed to the hospital, my hand was already bandaged. He squatted down, wanting to touch my hand but looking helpless, not knowing where to start. Finally, all he could say was a heavy sigh full of heartache: “Child, you’re so young. What will you do now…?” I turned my head away, not daring to meet his eyes. I wasn’t a good kid. I didn’t deserve his sincere pity. His wife, Mrs. Miller, came to take care of me personally. She handled everything. She gently combed my messy hair. She cut fruit into small pieces, warmed them up, and fed me bit by bit. It was the first time I felt that kind of delicate, maternal tenderness. It was completely different from how Grandma cared for me. A coworker who came to visit whispered a warning: “Be careful. This is a honey trap. They’re being nice so they can pay you less later.” I was instantly on guard. I tried to reject their kindness. But they continued to care for me, both physically and emotionally, ignoring my deliberate coldness. After I was discharged, Mr. and Mrs. Miller drove me home. Grandma held my hand, missing two fingers, and wept silently. For a long time, she couldn’t say a word, her whole body trembling with sobs. In that moment, I started to regret using this method to get money. The Millers were wiping tears too. Our home was bare walls. Grandma looked jaundiced, clearly very ill. They took out $80,000 in cash and stacked it neatly on the table. Grandma stood up in a panic, waving her hands, terrified and unsure of what to say. She could only look at me in silent distress. “This is the factory’s compensation for Tara. Please take it. The factory will cover future medical bills too,” Mr. Miller said. I lowered my head in shame. This compensation far exceeded my expectations. I had consulted a lawyer, and the amount he quoted was far less than what Mr. Miller offered. And this was just a small factory. The kind where the boss had to go out and make sales calls himself every day. Every penny was hard-earned. I needed money, but… I couldn’t be conscienceless enough to take the extra. Even though I wasn’t sure if the current me had a conscience left. “It’s too much. I can’t take this much.” Mrs. Miller patted my head and said softly, “Child, don’t be shy. The road ahead is long. Take this money and learn a trade to support yourself.” I looked down, unable to wipe away my tears or speak, just stubbornly shaking my head. I only took $30,000. I resolutely pushed the rest back to them. Grandma looked at the $30,000 I kept in shock. Thirty! It was thirty thousand! A number so painfully familiar to her. The old lady looked confused, shocked, and then… a flash of heartbroken realization crossed her eyes. No one else knew why Grandma suddenly burst into loud wails. Only I kept my head down, afraid to look into their eyes. I was afraid to see my own despicable, shameful, ugly reflection in their pupils. In the end, the Millers couldn’t beat my stubbornness. I practically kicked them out with a cold face. I threw the $50,000 back at them. I knew I was being rude, but I really didn’t know how else to refuse such warm kindness. Grandma cried all night. No one was sadder than her. I just regretted not hiding my intentions better; Grandma figured it out instantly. The next day, we packed up and moved out of that dilapidated apartment and into the hospital. We said goodbye to that home forever. My only home with Grandma. I had no home left, but I still had Grandma. With Grandma, I still had a home. 3 Grandma’s surgery went smoothly. But after being discharged, we had nowhere to go. We set up a tent under a bridge. Renting an apartment or staying in a motel cost too much. Every penny had to be spent wisely. I had no idea how much follow-up treatment would cost. I could only cut expenses as much as possible. Many times, I regretted not taking that $50,000. But I knew clearly that if I went back in time, I still wouldn’t take it. If I took it, the weight on my spine would keep me bent forever. After two rounds of chemo, Grandma’s body clearly couldn’t take the drafty bridge anymore. We moved into a cheap basement room in an alley. Winter arrived. It was freezing. I found a job delivering food via DoorDash. I took care of Grandma while working like a tireless machine. In between, I picked up odd jobs at nightclubs—promoting drinks, being an atmosphere girl. I tried everything. As long as it paid. That was the closest I ever came to falling into the abyss. I saw countless ways to make quick, dirty money. Reason pulled me back in the end. If I truly fell, Grandma would rather die than accept treatment bought with that money. The Millers visited us once during that time. I didn’t even know how he went to the trouble of finding our address. He said, “Tara, actually, you can come back to work at the factory. We’ll move you to an easier position.” My nails dug deep into my palms. Stubborn and hostile, I said, “Easier positions definitely don’t pay well. Are you going to charitably inflate my wages?” He nodded without hesitation. I didn’t appreciate it. “But I don’t need it. Are you pitying us? I can take care of Grandma just fine on my own.” The couple opened and closed their mouths, looking heartbroken, but said nothing more. Grandma seemed afraid of something, clumsily waving her hands to refuse: “Our Tara isn’t going back to work. Thank you, really, thank you.” She rubbed my frostbitten, stubby fingers, terror in her eyes. The Millers left with heavy sighs, looking back three times with every step. I whispered at their backs, “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.” Forgive my rudeness, forgive my ugly, dark heart. All my strong disguises were supported by despicableness. I wasn’t a good person. At least, I didn’t feel like one then. Grandma cried too. “Grandma is dragging you down, Tara. I’m an old useless thing, how can I burden a child like this?” I turned around fearfully and hugged her tight. “Don’t say that! I only have you, Grandma. You get better, and we will be okay. We will get better.” But would we? Looking at Grandma’s sallow face, a seed of helpless despair was planted in my heart. Grandma didn’t speak. The tears soaking my sleeve silently told a story. Drop after drop, endless tears. She suffered too much. How could I let her leave without enjoying a single day of happiness? Absolutely not. But that night, a plastic bag inexplicably appeared at our door. On top were two cans of nutritional milk powder for seniors. Underneath was a neat stack of $50,000. Fifty. Another sensitive number. I knew who it was immediately. I called Mr. Miller, but no one answered. Grandma touched my rough, frozen hands. “Tara, stop calling. Take it. Later… we’ll find a way to pay them back.” I stared at Grandma. Her cloudy eyes were filled with heartbreaking pain. I nodded, turning my head to let the tears flow into the shadows. That was the last bit of endurance and stubbornness of my youth. 4 That winter was the fullest and most exhausting year of my life. Delivering food by day, working at the club by night. I was so tired I could fall asleep sitting anywhere. It was exhausting, but the decent monthly income still left me worried sick. Grandma’s chemo every three weeks. Medical bills, nutrition costs—these were expenses I couldn’t skimp on. The doctor said if she ate well and kept her nutrition up, the side effects would be less severe. During that time, every extra bite of rice or sip of soup Grandma took made me happy for a long time. As if she wasn’t eating food, but life points. Four rounds of chemo ended. Time for a routine checkup. I was on a delivery run when the oncologist called. “Your grandmother’s response to chemo isn’t good. The scans show the tumor… has metastasized to the liver and lungs.” Crowds streamed past me. I squatted on the street corner and wailed helplessly. Why? Why did I try so hard only to face this result? Could the god of luck not spare a single glance for us? I got off work early that day. I secretly went to see the doctor first. The follow-up treatment plan was just heavy sighs of unbearable helplessness. The doctor was a young man. He said, “Take Grandma home, Tara. Don’t spend any more money in the hospital. Let her eat whatever she wants.” I knew he meant well, but I didn’t want to hear a word of it. It felt like the Grim Reaper reading a death sentence. I couldn’t accept it. I still believed in miracles. “If we just go home like this, what will happen to Grandma?” “It will be very painful. She might get fevers, lose mobility, lose appetite, or develop ascites,” the doctor’s voice got quieter. He didn’t want to look me in the eye anymore, looking down at his screen pretending to be busy. “What if I insist on treatment?” I wasn’t giving up. The doctor looked up at me steadily, lowering his voice. “Even if you insist… your grandmother will still go through all of that.” Hearing this, my tears burst forth uncontrollably. I tried to dry my eyes in the stairwell before seeing Grandma, but my small eyes couldn’t hold that many tears. I wiped for half an hour, and they still wouldn’t stop. A middle-aged man smoking nearby looked equally worried. Seeing me cry, he numbly handed me a crumpled tissue. “Eyes hurt if you cry too long. Wipe them.” His exhaustion made me wonder if he also had family in treatment. Everyone suffers. Each has their own suffering. So… let’s try to make the last leg of Grandma’s journey a little sweeter. Maybe because I came back early today, I saw Mrs. Miller. A thermos was on Grandma’s bedside table. I walked in, and the room smelled of chicken soup. A very familiar smell. I said thickly through my congestion, “Thank you, Mrs. Miller. You don’t need to come tomorrow. Thank you for visiting Grandma all this time.” This time, it was sincere gratitude. I wasn’t an idiot. I should have known those exquisite, delicious meals weren’t takeout. Takeout wouldn’t make Grandma dodge my eyes. Takeout didn’t come in high-end thermal lunch boxes.

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I secretly traveled to my online boyfriend’s city to surprise him. But instead of a sweet reunion, I overheard him talking trash with his friends. “What’s the point of a sexy voice if she won’t even send a pic? She’s definitely ugly.” “If the campus queen hadn’t rejected me, I wouldn’t waste my time sexting someone like that.” “It’s bad enough she’s probably a troll, but she’s thirsty as hell. Kept demanding to verify the goods before we met.” His friend laughed, “So you showed her?” My boyfriend smirked. “Yeah. But it wasn’t mine. It was Xavier’s.” “Holy sh*t,” his friend gasped. “Your roommate? You said he was packing at least 8 inches. For real?” “Of course it’s real. Why would I lie?” “Xavier’s a real one. Saw I didn’t want to send nudes, so he offered to be my stunt double.” The group erupted in laughter. I laughed too. I’ve heard of hand doubles and leg doubles, but a “d*ck double”? That’s a first. I need this man’s file on my desk in three minutes. 1 I’m a “good girl.” Polite, modest, well-read, and respectful. Optimistic, cheerful, hardworking. Bullsh*t. That’s just the persona I maintain in front of the elders. The real me… Rebellious, spicy, wild at heart, petty, and definitely not to be messed with. And I have cravings. In every sense of the word. After high school graduation, I spent my days scrolling through hot guys on TikTok. Lean swimmers, golden retrievers, cold and aloof scholar types—liked and saved them all. Scrolling and scrolling, my heart started racing, and I got restless. So, I got myself an online boyfriend. Julian. One year older than me, currently in college. 6’0″ barefoot, broad shoulders, a tapered waist, abs you could grate cheese on. Most importantly, he’s allegedly packing 8 inches. I can’t believe I stumbled upon such a prime specimen. Life is good. Surprisingly, Julian turned out to be an upperclassman at the university I was about to attend. It felt like destiny. But Julian knew nothing about this. I kept it a secret because I wanted to surprise him when the semester started. To keep the mystery alive, I never sent him a face pic. Julian got annoyed about it, saying I wasn’t being sincere. He sounded so dejected on the phone. His hometown was just a city over from mine, less than thirty minutes by train. After thinking it over, I decided to just go find him. 2 To give me “security,” Julian reported everything to me. He even texted me where he was eating with his friends. Saved me the trouble of fishing for info. I followed the GPS and easily found the BBQ joint where they were hanging out. Among dozens of tables at the roadside stall, I spotted Julian instantly. He was even better looking in person than in his photos. It was midsummer, the wind was hot, and as it hit my face, my cheeks felt even hotter. I steadied my breathing and was about to walk up. Suddenly, Julian slammed his beer glass on the table, a mocking look in his eyes: “What’s the use of a sexy voice if she won’t even send a pic? She’s definitely a troll!” I stopped in my tracks. The blush on my face receded like a tide. Julian continued, “Just playing around. If the campus queen hadn’t rejected me and I wasn’t bored out of my mind, I wouldn’t even give her the time of day.” “It’s bad enough she’s probably ugly, but she’s thirsty as hell. Kept demanding I send nudes.” I pursed my lips, fists clenching involuntarily. Wait a minute. He was the one who bragged about his size and asked if I wanted to see. Why wouldn’t I look? Free show. Now he’s acting like I forced him? Amidst the jeering, someone asked, “So you showed her?” Julian smirked, looking proud. “Yeah. But it wasn’t mine. It was Xavier’s.” “Holy sh*t,” his friend gasped. “Your roommate? You said he was packing at least 8 inches. For real?” Julian took a drag of his cigarette. “Of course it’s real. Why would I lie?” “Xavier’s a real one. Saw I didn’t want to send nudes, so he offered to be my stunt double.” The table went silent for a second, then burst into laughter. “Bro, I’m dead. So this relationship is superficially two people, but actually two people plus a…” More laughter. Julian frowned. “What relationship? It’s just sexting. She’s basically my dog. Once summer break is over, I’m kicking this ugly troll to the curb immediately.” Hearing Julian say these things again, I surprisingly didn’t feel much. Because right now, my mind was filled with that impactful photo. What was his name again? Oh, right. Xavier… 3 Sitting on the train back home, I started scrolling through Julian’s Instagram. But the guy was too narcissistic; he posted nothing but himself. I sighed. Looks like if I want to see what Xavier looks like, I’ll have to wait for school to start. I felt a pang of regret for a second, then opened TikTok to scroll through hot guys again. Just as I was about to arrive, I swiped onto a campus interview video. The topic was “Who is your campus heartthrob?” I wasn’t interested and was about to swipe away. But suddenly, I heard the name “Xavier.” The arrival announcement chimed. I turned up the volume on my earbuds as I walked out. I listened several times. I definitely didn’t mishear. And the university name matched. I thought back to that photo… Campus heartthrob Xavier. Pretty wild in private, huh? 4 As the semester approached, Julian grew colder. He took days to reply to messages. I gritted my teeth. If he wasn’t still useful to me, I would’ve blocked him ages ago. That night, looking at the one-sided chat log, I sent Julian a sticker, refusing to give up. This time, Julian replied quickly: “Hey, I don’t think we’re suitable. We can be friends, but let’s forget about dating.” I was lying on my bed with a face mask on, legs crossed. Seeing this message, my eyes lit up. I’ve been waiting for this day! I typed with a smirk: “Why? Did I do something wrong? Finger guns sticker” Julian replied: “No, don’t overthink it. It’s my problem.” I rolled my eyes silently. Classic f*ckboy line. Zero creativity. Inner monologue over, time to unleash my acting skills. Crying sticker “You don’t need to comfort me. I know I’m not good enough for you. You deserve a better girl. I wish you happiness.” Julian paused, his heart inexplicably twitching. A while later, he replied: “You’re great. Be confident, babe. It’s me who let you down.” “If you have any requests, just ask. I’ll fulfill them.” I got excited, ripped off my face mask, sat up straight, and voice-called Julian directly. When he picked up, I sniffled first, adding a hint of a sob to my voice. “Will you really agree to any request?” Julian gave a solemn “Mmhmm.” “Actually, I kind of know you’re not confident about your looks. Don’t worry, I don’t care. If you want to meet me, I can right now…” “Then introduce me to a new boyfriend.” I really didn’t have the patience to listen to his rambling anymore, so I interrupted. Julian froze. Three seconds later, he reacted: “Huh?”

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The year my foster mother beat me half to death was the same year I found out I was the “real” daughter, switched at birth on purpose. After a whirlwind transition back to the wealthy Sterling family, I instinctively chose the smallest, shabbiest room in the mansion. My biological mom immediately stopped me. “Why are you going into the maid’s quarters? Your room is upstairs.” My brother walked towards me with his hand extended. Conditioned by habit, I lowered my head and meekly handed over my monthly allowance. His eyes widened in shock. “I’m your brother! I was reaching out to bandage your wounds, not take your money!” Then came Chloe, the girl who took my place. She walked towards me with a tear-streaked face. I braced myself, turning my left cheek like they do in the dramas, ready for the slap. I expected a stinging pain. Instead, I got a kiss on the cheek. “I’m sorry, big sis. Can you please not hate me?” 1 The scenery outside the car window blurred past. The woman sitting next to me held my hand, her grip slightly nervous. Maybe my expression was too numb, because she kept throwing out topic after topic. “Do you like Barbies, Ava? Mom will buy you a bunch, you can pick whatever you want.” “How are your grades? Is there anything you’re particularly interested in? Mom can sign you up for some classes.” “Oh, I’m talking too much. How about you decide what we eat for lunch, Ava? We can have the chef make it, or Mom can cook. My specialty is steamed egg custard, I just don’t know if you like it.” She gave me an awkward smile. Her hands were well-maintained, soft and fair, not looking at all like the hands of a forty-year-old woman. I lowered my head and whispered, “Whatever is fine.” My foster mother used to say my voice sounded like a rooster crowing—annoying as hell. Every time she saw me, she got irritated. Since then, I tried not to speak unless absolutely necessary. I was afraid if I opened my mouth, I’d scare this new mom, and she’d send me back. After all, she didn’t raise me. She might find me repulsive. 2 The day my mom found me, my foster mother had gotten into a huge fight with my drunk foster father. She took all her anger out on me. A wooden stick as thick as a thumb—she said she’d break it on me, and she did. I didn’t have a single patch of unbruised skin left. beaten to within an inch of my life, I was suddenly pulled into a warm embrace. Hot tears fell on my face. In my daze, I thought I had gone to heaven. I didn’t want to die, but heaven seemed okay. There was a woman with a gentle voice guiding me. Life there probably wouldn’t be too hard. At least, it couldn’t be harder than this. “My daughter… I finally found you. My poor baby.” I was sent to the hospital and recovered for a month before my mom took me home. My dad is the CEO of a publicly traded company, my mom owns an art gallery. I have a brother in his junior year of high school, and a sister in the same grade as me—freshman year. A sister with zero blood relation to me. We live in a villa, with countless luxury cars, a housekeeper, and bodyguards. After entering the house, Mom went to the kitchen to check on lunch. She told me to pick a room first. “You can have whichever one you want.” I pursed my lips and carefully walked around the first floor. Even the bathroom was bigger, brighter, and cleaner than the entire house I used to live in. I picked the only room that seemed “small and shabby” compared to the others, though it was actually spacious, bright, and had AC, a washer, and an ensuite bathroom. In my old life, I wouldn’t have dared to dream of this. Just having a bed was a luxury. I figured this one would do. I shouldn’t be greedy as the newcomer. Not sleeping in the security booth was already a win. I started walking towards that room. Mom poked her head out of the kitchen and saw me. She immediately called out, “Ava, why are you going into the maid’s room? That’s for the housekeeper! Your room is upstairs!” 3 I sighed softly. I knew I didn’t have that kind of luck. The upstairs room must be cramped, dark, damp, and stuffy. Walking up the carved wooden staircase, I was dazzled by the exquisite paintings on the walls. I didn’t dare touch anything, not even a corner. I was terrified Mom would make me pay for it. Even if I sold my worthless life, I couldn’t afford it. When I got to the second floor, I was dumbfounded. Every room was twice the size of the ones downstairs. The luxury was jaw-dropping. Just as I was debating whether to sleep on the stairs or in the small storage closet at the end of the hall, a boy with striking eyebrows and bright eyes put his hand on my shoulder. I turned to look at him. He looked about 50% like me. He had a sunny smile on his face and a backpack over one shoulder, looking like he just got home from school. “You must be Ava. I’m your brother, Liam.” He looked apologetic. “Sorry I didn’t visit you in the hospital earlier. I was at a training camp, and the coach wouldn’t let me leave. I just got back.” “You’ve suffered all these years. As your brother, it’s my fault for not protecting you back then. If I had been a bit older, you wouldn’t have been taken.” His eyes were filled with pain. I couldn’t help but comfort him, “It’s okay. I’m fine now.” It wasn’t their fault. Liam looked up. “You were picking a room, right? Why don’t you take the one next to mine? Easier for me to look out for you.” I wanted to refuse, but he didn’t give me a chance. So, half-pushed, half-led, I chose the room next to his. Liam left for a second and came back holding a small box. He sat down in my room and extended his hand towards me. “Come here.” Right. Every time my foster brother, Tyler, needed money, he would sweet-talk me before extending his hand. This meant he wanted money. I dug out an envelope from my pocket. It was the allowance Mom had just stuffed in there. It wasn’t even warm yet. I was self-aware. I meekly handed over my living expenses. It wasn’t my money anyway. I had no attachment to it. Just like the twenty bucks I earned collecting bottles—I handed that over too. Liam’s eyebrows knitted together in displeasure. He looked at me, then at the envelope. Was he dissatisfied with the amount? Suddenly, his eyes widened in shock. “I’m your brother! I was reaching out to bandage your wound, not take your money!” He pulled my sleeve, looking anxious and angry. He took out a cotton swab, dipped it in iodine, lifted my hair, and gently applied it to the wound, even blowing on it softly. “This cut hasn’t healed properly. Wait a sec, I’ll put a band-aid on it. Your hair must have been covering it; Mom didn’t even notice.” “If anyone hits you in the future, you hit them back. I’ll take the consequences. If I can’t handle it, Mom and Dad will. You’re my biological sister; you can’t just let people bully you for nothing, understand?” I nodded blankly. He stuffed the envelope back into my hand. He seemed satisfied. “Although no one would dare bully you with me around, there might be times when I’m not there. How about this? I’ll sign you up for a kickboxing class.” He looked at me with burning intensity. I actually laughed. “Sure, why not.” Liam muttered helplessly, “Finally heard you speak. I almost thought you were mute.” Just then, Mom called from downstairs, “Dinner’s ready!” 4 I walked down the stairs stiffly, my feet feeling like I was walking on cotton. I was afraid if I stepped too hard, I’d wake up and realize this was all a dream. I was starting to get attached to this dream. The dining table was filled with over a dozen dishes. It was a grand affair. Mom and Liam kept piling food into my bowl until it was overflowing. “I peeled the shrimp for you, eat it while it’s hot.” “This abalone is really fresh, try a bite.” “This carp soup is the housekeeper’s specialty. Mom will get you a small bowl. Careful, it’s hot. Drink it when it cools down.” I took a cautious sip. Just then, Dad walked in holding my sister’s hand. Even though he was the CEO of a listed company, he was carrying her small backpack himself. My sister was cute, looking like a delicate doll. She had pigtails and a bunch of clips in her hair, looking like a princess living in a fairytale castle. Seeing me, she timidly called out, “Sister?” I bit my lip. Was my dream going to shatter this quickly? Mom had apologized to me before: “I’m sorry, Ava. We discussed it for a long time, but we couldn’t bring ourselves to send Chloe back. After all, we raised her for 15 years.” “If she went back, the drop in lifestyle would be too huge. She wouldn’t be able to handle it, and it would break our hearts.” “Even though there’s no blood relation, in our eyes, she’s been our daughter for a long time.” “I know you suffered and went through hell, but it wasn’t her fault. Chloe cried so many times, saying she didn’t mean for this to happen, that she’ll make it up to you and earn your forgiveness. Please let her stay, okay?” “I promise, even if I’m biased, I’ll be biased towards you.” Facing Mom’s pleading eyes, I couldn’t refuse. I had no right to refuse. After all, to this family of four, I was the real “outsider.” Whenever I dreamed of things I didn’t deserve, my foster mother would curse me out and slap me. “You stupid little wretch! Look in the mirror at your ugly face! Do you deserve anything? Pfft!” “Let me tell you, rotten melons don’t produce good seeds. You’re delusional! A toad wanting to eat swan meat! You just don’t have the destiny for it!” Back then, I was hung up and beaten for a whole day. And the reason? I saw other classmates eating lollipops and begged my foster mom to buy me one. That lollipop was on special at a new store. It cost ten cents. I lowered my head and stopped drinking the soup. I was waiting. Waiting for Chloe to throw herself into Mom and Dad’s arms and cry, asking why they brought me back. Waiting for Mom and Dad to make me apologize, scolding me for making their daughter unhappy. Waiting for my brother to heartache for Chloe and cut ties with me. “Get out! You’re not my sister! I hate you!” It was so strange. I had only been with them for a short time. Why did imagining these scenes feel like a knife twisting in my heart? Clearly, this was normal. I had always been the child who wasn’t favored. Why did it hurt so much? Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Chloe walking towards me with a mournful face. Sigh. Isn’t that how it goes in TV dramas? I accepted my fate. I closed my eyes and offered my left cheek. My right cheek was still swollen from my foster mom’s beating. If she hit the left one, at least I’d be symmetrical. I waited for a long time. I expected a burning pain. Instead, a pair of soft, warm lips pressed against my left cheek. Not only did I not get hit, I got a kiss. I opened my eyes in surprise. Chloe threw herself into my arms. She was wailing, her small arms wrapped around my waist, melting like a little snowman. “I’m sorry, big sis! Can you please not hate me?” “I really don’t want to leave this home. Please don’t kick me out, okay? I didn’t mean to take your place.” “I won’t acknowledge my biological parents, never in this life. I only acknowledge you as my sister. Good sister, can you please like me in the future? I promise I’ll be good!” She… she wasn’t following the script? Was it my imagination? They seemed… actually welcoming? Even Dad, who had been stoic the whole time, had tears in the corners of his eyes. No, no, no. This must be their disguise. My foster mom said I was the worst child in the world and no one would like me. Yes, that must be it.

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I woke up to a blinding beam of light burning into my retinas. My mother was standing over my bed, shining a high-powered tactical flashlight directly into my eyes. “Mom! What the hell are you doing?” I shielded my face, heart pounding. She let out a breath she’d been holding, her voice tight and unnatural. “Just checking… checking if you stayed up late on your phone.” Before I could argue, she turned and walked out, heading straight for my brother’s room. Worried she was going to start a fight with him, I quietly followed. I watched from the hallway. She stood over Liam’s bed, training that intense beam of light on his face for ten full minutes. Liam didn’t flinch. He didn’t even twitch. He remained in a deep, death-like sleep. Suddenly, Mom pulled a knife from her robe. Without a sound, she raised it and plunged it down toward his chest. “Mom!” I screamed, rushing in to grab her arm just in time. She turned to look at me, her eyes wide and manic, and whispered one sentence: “He stayed up late.” 1 In the dim moonlight, Mom’s expression was terrifyingly paranoid. Even with me gripping her arm, she refused to drop the knife. My mind was racing. I glanced at the bed. Liam was still lying there, eyes closed, expression peaceful. That flashlight was industrial strength. It was bright enough to wake the dead. Yet Liam hadn’t moved a muscle. There was only one explanation: He was pretending to sleep. But Mom had just tried to stab him. How could he keep pretending through that? I dragged Mom out of Liam’s room and down the hall. “Mom, are you okay? You need to sleep. You’re exhausted.” Since Dad died in that factory accident six months ago, our family had collapsed. The burden fell entirely on Mom, and I watched her wither away day by day. I was terrified she was finally snapping. Suddenly, she leaned in close, her voice a frantic whisper. “Maya, listen to me. That thing in there… it’s not your brother.” Her hair was a mess, her face pale as a sheet. “Haven’t you noticed? Liam is a completely different person. He’s been replaced by a monster.” That was the first time I heard the word—Mimic. According to Mom, a Mimic is a creature that silently replaces a human, slowly evolving to perfectly imitate the host’s personality. She didn’t know how they parasitized people, but she claimed there was only one way to identify them: Shine a strong light in their eyes while they sleep. If they don’t wake up, they are a Mimic. By the end of her explanation, she was sobbing. That attempt in the bedroom had drained all her strength. Even if I let go of her now, she wouldn’t have the energy to hurt him. I felt a chill run down my spine, mixed with pity. Logic told me my mother was sick. Mentally ill. I didn’t believe in “Mimics,” but I had to admit—Liam had changed. My brother used to be the typical spoiled golden child. He was selfish, had a short fuse, and treated Mom like a servant. He barely acknowledged my existence. But recently? He’d become gentle, polite. He stopped getting into fights at school, his grades shot up from D’s to straight A’s, and he quit gaming to help around the house. I was happy about the change. Mom was terrified. Every time she saw him doing chores, she’d scream at him, saying this wasn’t what her son did. I realized then: It wasn’t just grief. She was terrified her son was gone. I sighed, speaking gently. “Mom, isn’t it possible Liam just grew up? Being the first one to see Dad’s accident… that kind of trauma changes people.” 2 My parents both worked at a chemical plant just outside of town. Six months ago, Mom was hospitalized for surgery. I was away at college. Dad was stuck watching Liam. To keep him out of trouble, Dad made Liam come to the factory after school to do homework in the breakroom. One day, Liam tried to sneak out. Dad caught him and chased him onto a catwalk. Dad stepped on a rusted grate. It gave way. Liam watched his father fall into a vat of high-concentration chemical waste. He heard the screams. He watched him struggle and die. When they fished Dad out, he looked… wrong. The chemicals had reacted with his skin. He looked pale, smooth, and rubbery. Like a silicone doll. Liam had a high fever for three days after that. When he woke up, he was a different person. It made sense for Liam to change. But Mom? She hadn’t cried much. Instead, she became paranoid. I spent hours convincing her to see a doctor. Finally, I broke down. “Mom, please. Dad is gone. It’s just us now. If something happens to you, what happens to me and Liam? Please.” She stared at me for a long time before reaching out a trembling hand to wipe my tears. “Okay. You’re all I have left. I’ll go.” The next morning, I was woken up by the sound of cooking. Anxious about last night, I rushed to the kitchen. Liam was already up, making pancakes. Mom was sitting at the table, smiling. She smiled at me. “Maya, you won’t believe what your brother did.” “What?” I asked, relieved to see her calm. “He’s been working a secret part-time job to buy you a new laptop for your graphic design classes! Look at him, he’s so tired he fell asleep standing up.” I was shocked. “Liam? Working for me?” Liam ducked his head, smiling shyly. “I saw your old one crashing all the time. I just want to help.” This redemption arc was almost too perfect. Mom was looking at him lovingly, giving him instructions for the day. But then I noticed her eyes. There was no warmth in them. She wasn’t looking at his face. She was staring at his throat. And then I saw it. Liam was eating with his left hand. Was he always left-handed? I couldn’t remember. Noticing my gaze, Liam flashed me a stiff smile. When I blinked, the fork was back in his right hand. Was I hallucinating? After breakfast, Mom stood up. “Didn’t you say we were going to the doctor?” “Right,” I said. “Appointment’s at ten.” We walked out of the house. About five minutes down the road, Mom stopped dead. She turned to me, the mask of sanity crumbling. Her voice shook. “You saw it too, right?” 3 “Saw what?” “I watched him while he ate,” she whispered. “Every single bite. No matter what he put in his mouth… he chewed exactly twenty times. Not nineteen. Not twenty-one. Twenty. Every. Single. Time.” My nerves were already frayed. I fought the urge to scream. “Mom, stop it. Maybe he has OCD! Does chewing twenty times make him a monster?” She looked at me with profound disappointment. “You don’t believe me. That’s fine. I’ll prove it to you.” We drove to the psychiatric center in silence. Two hours later, the doctor came out, looking exhausted. “Maya, the preliminary results are in. Your mother is suffering from delusional disorder, specifically Capgras syndrome—the belief that a loved one has been replaced by an imposter. It’s accompanied by severe anxiety.” I let out a long exhale. Thank god. It was an illness. Not a sci-fi nightmare. Just an illness. “We strongly suggest inpatient care,” the doctor continued. “Her delusions are fixed and potentially dangerous. We need to stabilize her in a safe environment.” “Yes,” I nodded quickly. “Let’s admit her.” The doctor added, “Don’t blame yourself. We’ve seen a spike in these cases lately. Extreme stress, grief… the mind breaks in strange ways.” We processed the paperwork. Mom sat on the hospital bed, quiet as a porcelain doll. I took her hand. “Mom, listen to the doctors. Get some rest. When you’re better, Liam and I will take you home.” Her eyes slowly focused on mine. The look in them was unreadable. Suddenly, she gripped my wrist, her nails digging into my skin. “Maya. Be careful of Liam. You have to be careful. That thing is not your brother. If you don’t believe me… look in my closet. Under the clothes.” Her voice rasped with terrifying intensity. “I know,” I lied, pulling away. “Rest now.” I fled the room. As I waited for the elevator, I heard screaming from an office down the hall. “Doctor, please! That is NOT my daughter! She’s been replaced!” I froze. “My daughter is a neurosurgeon at Johns Hopkins! She’s brilliant! But that thing sitting in the lobby can’t even do basic math! She just repeats what people say to her!” The doctor’s voice was calm, soothing. “Ma’am, trauma can cause cognitive regression…” “She’s not sick! She’s hollow! It’s a shell! Why won’t you believe me?!” I stumbled into the elevator and mashed the button. The woman’s screams echoed in my head, mixing with my mother’s warnings. If Mimics were real… would Mom be the only sane one left? I got home. Liam was mopping the floor. “How is she?” he asked gently. “She has to stay for a while,” I said. “Don’t worry, Sis. It’s just stress. We’ll take care of things until she’s better.” It was the most mature thing he’d ever said. I felt zero comfort. At dinner, I couldn’t eat. I stared at his mouth. One. Two… Eighteen. Nineteen. Twenty. Swallow. “Sis? Why are you staring at me?” “Nothing. Eat.” I counted again. Fifteen… Twenty. Twenty. Twenty. My back was soaked in cold sweat. Later that night, I was working on some designs. Liam was gaming. I reached for my stack of scratch paper. It was gone. “Liam, did you take my scratch paper?” He turned his head. Instantly. It was too fast. Not a human reaction time. His eyes didn’t blink. “Oh, yeah. I took it to school by mistake. I’ll go buy you more right now.” He stood up, grabbed his phone, and walked out the door without a second of hesitation. I was alone. I put down my pen. I walked into Mom’s bedroom. 4 I looked under her pillow first. I found a book. The Guide to Identifying Mimics. But the pages were torn and chewed up. Only the cover remained intact. I suppressed the shiver running down my spine and went to the closet. I pulled the handle. The closet wasn’t filled with clothes. It was stacked, floor to ceiling, with flashlights. Rows and rows of identical, high-powered tactical flashlights. Hundreds of glass lenses staring at me like dead eyes. I stepped back, terrified. How many nights had she stood here, staring at these lights, picking one out to test us? Scritch. Scratch. A strange sound came from the kitchen. Mice? No, we kept the house spotless. My heart dropped. Liam? I grabbed a flashlight from the closet and walked toward the kitchen on legs that felt like jelly. The door was ajar. I pushed it open just a crack. Under the pale moonlight, a familiar figure was squatting on the floor, back to me. His shoulders were moving rhythmically. Scritch… crunch… I watched, numb with horror. My brother was eating my scratch paper. He was shoving sheets of white paper into his mouth, chewing them with gusto, swallowing them dry. Suddenly, he stopped. He turned around slowly. A wet, half-chewed piece of paper was stuck to his teeth. His eyes were dead calm. “Sis. Sorry. I ate your paper. I’ll buy more tomorrow.” “…It’s okay,” I croaked. He paused, as if buffering, then said seriously, “It’s Pica. An eating disorder caused by stress. Common in adolescents.” I knew what Pica was. But a normal person would be embarrassed. They would hide it. He explained it like he was reading from a dictionary. I took a deep breath. “Okay. Just… keep it down.” I walked back to my room. Behind me, the chewing sound started again. 5 I lay in bed for two hours. I heard Liam finish his “meal” and go to his room. I waited another hour. I took the flashlight and walked into Liam’s room, just like Mom did. I turned it on max brightness and shone it directly into his eyes. I expected him not to wake up. But a few seconds later, his eyes snapped open. “Sis? What are you doing?” “Checking if you’re on your phone,” I said automatically. “Does having eyes open mean I’m on my phone?” he asked, genuinely confused. “Yes.” He seemed to process this. Then he asked, “Sis, do you think I’m acting weird lately?” You think? “I’m just under so much pressure. Keeping this secret…” He sat up. “Sis. Mom killed Dad.” My brain short-circuited. “What the hell are you talking about?” “I was there. I brought Dad his lunch. I was hiding behind a vat. Mom… she wasn’t in the hospital. She was there. Dad was checking a pipe. She pushed him.” His voice was monotone. “When Dad fell in, he grabbed the edge. Mom squatted down and pried his fingers off. One by one.” The description was so precise it made me want to vomit. “Stop it!” Liam went silent. He lay back down, staring at me while the flashlight burned into his retinas. He didn’t blink. “You’re crazy. Mom wouldn’t do that. The police ruled it an accident.” Liam smiled. A perfect, empty smile. “Ask her. Go ask Mom. Okay, Sis?” “Okay.” The next morning, I was standing by Mom’s hospital bed. “Mom, how did Dad really die?” I expected her to get angry, or deny it. Instead, she looked at me, her voice calm. “I killed him.” My blood ran cold. First Mom says Liam is a monster. Then Liam says Mom is a murderer. Who is the monster? Who is lying? “I killed him,” she repeated. “Because he begged me to.” “What?” Mom’s eyes were hollow. “He found out. He found out he was… turning into one of them. He begged me to end it before he was gone completely.” She looked at me. “He said it was the only way to protect us.”

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I opened my eyes in a new body, and my phone buzzed with a text. Are you dead yet? If not, get your ass over here and apologize. If Sarah forgives you, I’ll consider not breaking up with you. I dragged the System out and demanded an explanation. “…It’s like this. The original owner of this body completed the male lead’s 100 demands and has already returned to her original world to save her lover. So, I dropped you in here.” I grabbed my head and screamed, “I asked you to find me a man, not a scumbag!” “Don’t panic! I didn’t say you have to be with the male lead. There are plenty of hot guys here. Plus, the original owner saved up tens of millions of dollars that she didn’t spend. I brought you here to enjoy life!” Tens of millions? Suddenly, I felt much better. My phone vibrated again. Be in this VIP room in 30 minutes. Fix your attitude. Don’t be stubborn. My fingers flew across the screen: Account owner deceased. I hacked this account. Blocked. 1 ? You’re dead, so a ghost is replying to me? Stop playing these childish games. You know I don’t have much patience. Tsk. Technically, when the original owner left this world, if the System hadn’t dropped me in, this body would be dead. So I didn’t lie. Whatever. I’ve seen this script a million times. This male lead’s “100 demands” were definitely inhumane. Kneeling in the rain at midnight, donating corneas, kidneys, livers—the usual “abused heroine” tropes. I never understood the System’s twisted tastes. Seeing this kind of guy makes me lose my appetite. I have zero interest in dealing with him. After all, I’m rich now! Tens of millions! “System, check my account. Exactly how many millions are we talking?” “Let me see… eighty million. Why are you looking at me like that? You want to spend it now?” I was so happy I almost threw my pillow at the ceiling. “Spend! Of course I’m spending it! Having money and not spending it is a crime! Quick, find me the most expensive, most luxurious club in the city with the hottest male models!” “I want to order eight of them at once!” I was poor my entire last life. Finally, it’s my turn to be a sugar mama! 2 I quickly applied a cold, glamorous “ice queen” makeup look, picked out a stunning bright red dress, and spun a few times in front of the mirror. Great body. Curves in all the right places. Just like the real me. Satisfied. Just as I was about to leave, the phone rang. No caller ID. I answered it directly. “Chloe, it’s been thirty minutes. Why aren’t you here yet?” “Don’t think just because you’re my girlfriend you can do whatever you want. When you make a mistake, you apologize. Did you forget how to be a decent human being?” The disgust and impatience in his voice were practically dripping through the phone. I realized immediately—it was the scumbag. Gross. But I was in a good mood, so I decided to explain one last time. “Buddy, your girlfriend kicked the bucket. I’m a possessing spirit. So no, I won’t be coming.” “This person has absolutely nothing to do with you anymore. Don’t contact me again. Byeee~” I hung up swiftly and blocked the number. Flipped my hair, stepped into my heels. “Let’s go! Platinum Club!” 3 When the manager heard I wanted the most luxurious VIP suite and the most expensive male models, his smile nearly split his face. He hurriedly had someone show me the way and promised to bring their top guys over shortly. I was grinning ear to ear too. Never enjoyed life like this before. But before I even reached the suite, someone stopped me. “Yo, isn’t that Chloe?” “I thought you had a backbone. You kept saying you wouldn’t come, but here you are, rolling over like a dog.” “Liam! Your girl is here!” I looked the guy up and down, confused. He was dressed decently, but his face screamed “NPC.” Then, a stream of people poured out of the adjacent room. Someone started clapping. “I won the bet! I told you, she’s trained like Liam’s dog. Even if she throws a tantrum, she always comes back obediently.” “Ten grand. Pay up.” Another guy shook his head, sighing as he took out his phone to transfer the money. A man and a woman walked out from the center of the group. Judging by their looks and positioning, they were the alpha couple of the pack. The man sneered. “You finally decided to show up? I thought you were dead.” I silently assessed the group and called the System. “System, who are these people? Is that the male lead?” “…Yes. I didn’t know he was here.” So this is the male lead, Liam. And the woman next to him must be the female antagonist, Sarah, that he mentioned. But— What does that have to do with me? I smiled and gave him an OK sign. “Yes, that’s right. You should treat me as dead.” “If you see me in the future, act like you saw a ghost. Pretend you didn’t see me, okay?” I turned to enter my suite, but my arm was grabbed. Liam’s face was long. “You’re not apologizing?” “Why should I apologize?” “You knew Sarah was allergic to mangoes, yet you ordered a fruit platter with mangoes. She almost went into shock and had to go to the hospital. Shouldn’t you apologize?” I laughed. “She knew she was allergic to mangoes, yet she ate from a fruit platter with mangoes. Is she brain-dead?” A weird silence fell over the scene. Until a sob broke it. “Liam, don’t make it hard for Chloe. I believe she didn’t do it on purpose. It was dark in the room, I ate the wrong thing by mistake. Let’s just let it go.” I immediately jumped on that. “Hear that? The Pick-me Girl said she ate it by mistake. What’s wrong with you, forcing me to apologize?” “Let go. Let go.” I shook his paw off my arm. Looking back, everyone’s expressions were colorful. Sarah pointed at herself in disbelief. “…Did you call me a Pick-me Girl?” “Yeah, I speak my mind, don’t take it personally. Besides, your face looks pretty green right now, any problem?” “Chloe, don’t push it!” Liam roared. “If you didn’t come to apologize, then why are you here?” “To beg me not to break up with you?” “Is this your attitude when begging me?” I crossed my arms, narrowed my eyes, and looked at him like he was an idiot. “Beg my ass. Dude, this is a club. What do you think I’m here for?” Just then, the manager arrived leading a row of flamboyantly dressed male models right to me. Every type you could imagine. The manager bowed fawningly. “Ms. Fang, I brought the guys. are you satisfied?” Silence fell over the hallway. I scanned the line, my eyes lighting up. “Yes! Yes! Bring them all in!” I told the manager to bring them into the suite and ordered several bottles of expensive wine. Looking back, Liam’s group stood there, dumbfounded, staring at me like they had actually seen a ghost. 4 Just as I was about to enter the suite, my hand was grabbed for the second time. Again? Liam gritted his teeth. “Chloe, you came here to find men?!” I rolled a massive eye. “None of your business. I told you already, I’m not your girlfriend. Go accompany your high-maintenance tea set and stop annoying me.” I tried to shake him off but couldn’t. So I lifted my high heel and stomped down hard with the pointed stiletto. No mercy. Liam’s face turned green, and he let go instantly. He wanted to scream but held it in, his face twisting, mouth twitching. “Fine, Chloe. You’re really something.” “Don’t come crawling back to beg for my forgiveness later. Let’s go!” Liam waved his hand, leading his group back into their room in a huff. But the people behind him seemed reluctant, clearly wanting to watch more drama. I flipped them off with zero class and click-clacked into my suite. As expected of the city’s biggest gold mine. The quality of the male models was top-tier. Tan skin, pale skin, everyone had an eight-pack. Calling me “Sister” sweetly enough to melt my heart. I opened 6 bottles of champagne and touched enough abs to last a lifetime. I picked up the microphone and started singing my heart out. The boys were very supportive. Even though I sang terribly, they listened as if entranced. My piercing high notes occasionally attracted people passing by to peek in. Whatever. A diva naturally attracts an audience. I sat on the shoulders of the tallest, most muscular boy, singing with abandon. Just as I was about to hit a high note, Boom! The door was kicked open. Simultaneously, the 7 boys around me popped their party poppers. Confetti and petals filled the room, covering the intruder. Seeing the scene inside, the group at the door gasped. Liam was shaking with rage. “Chloe, get down!” … This dog again! I patted the muscle boy’s shoulder, signaling him to put me down. “Bro, you’re haunting me. What do you want now?”

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The System said: “Julian Sterling is going to destroy the world. You must stop him.” I pulled out my phone. “I’m calling the cops.” The System screamed, “Stop! Do you know what love is? Do you understand what ‘redemption’ means?” Redemption. Save and redeem. I nodded. “I got it.” The next day, when I tied Julian—the billionaire heir—to a chair in my apartment, the System collapsed screaming: “YOU DON’T GET IT AT ALL!!” 1 The System was emitting a high-pitched screech in my brain. I was annoyed. “Didn’t you say ‘save’? How am I supposed to save him without tying him up? How else is his family going to pay the ransom?” The System was losing its mind. “Are you a college student or a felon?! I swear I’m going to call the cops on you! Chloe, haven’t you read a romance novel? Redemption means saving his soul! Filling his heart with love! With sunshine!” I paused for a moment. “You mean… you want me, a broke college student, to save the soul of a billionaire heir with assets worth hundreds of millions? And fill his heart with love?” What the f*ck. I wake up every day and grind just to survive. Who’s coming to redeem me? Forget it. I’m going to destroy the world too. Julian had woken up. A pair of cold, dark eyes were staring right at me. “How much do you want?” he asked calmly. Wait, is this for real? I blurted out, “Two thousand dollars!” Silence. The System and Julian both went quiet. The System broke first. “Oh my god, why did I choose someone so useless! Kidnapping is bad enough, but who kidnaps a billionaire for two grand?!” I wanted to slap this foul-mouthed System. “Ask for too much and it becomes a felony kidnapping! Do you know the law? Use some common sense!” “I’ll give you twenty thousand. Untie me,” Julian said after a long pause, sounding almost like he was sighing. My rental apartment was shabby. The young master was thrown onto my small bed, lying on his stomach, hands and feet tied behind his back. The posture was undignified, but his expression was calm. He asked unhurriedly, “You kidnapped me for two thousand dollars?” The System kept barking in my head: “Don’t say it’s for money! Make him feel your love! Love! LOVE! Do you understand?!” Under the System’s duress, I stiffly changed my tune. “I did it for love.” The young master finally lost his composure. His handsome face was written with confusion. He paused. “Is thirty thousand okay?” Thirty thousand. That’s thirty thousand dollars. With tears in my eyes, I gritted my teeth and shook my head. “I don’t want money. I just want your happiness.” Julian was silent for even longer this time. He thought I was sick. I thought I was sick too. He struggled to lift his head to look at me, trying to figure out my angle. “You know my family will find this place. Soon they’ll find you and send you to the police station. It’s not too late to let me go.” Julian negotiated patiently. “Don’t worry. As long as you let me go, I won’t let them send you to jail. I’ll even give you a large sum of money. Is fifty thousand enough?” Fifty thousand! Oh god, fifty thousand. How many DoorDash meals is that? Just as I was calculating my beautiful life with fifty grand, Julian raised the stakes. “One hundred thousand. Let me go and I’ll transfer it now.” Stop talking, rich boy. I really can’t hold out much longer. I gritted my teeth and said, almost angrily, “I don’t want anything!” Julian was lying on his stomach. I sat halfway on him, untying the ropes on his hands with tears in my eyes. The more I thought about it, the angrier I got. He’s so rich, why does he want to destroy the world? My life is so hard, why do I have to save him? Let him live my life where I can’t afford meat once a day, and I guarantee he won’t have time to destroy the world! It’s just rich people problems. I was so mad my teeth itched. I couldn’t help but slap the back of his head hard. “Let me tell you, go back and live a good life! Be positive, love life, do charity! If you’re bored, sponsor a poor student like me!” Julian got smacked. He buried his face in my mattress and didn’t speak for a long time. The room was quiet. The System spoke faintly in my mind again. “The villain definitely hates you now. It’ll be harder to redeem him.” I stopped untying the rope. “What do you mean? Is he going to take revenge on me?” “Hard to say. The only info I have is that he’s vindictive, ruthless, and cruel.” I looked down slowly. Julian’s wrists were red from the ropes. I was sitting on the noble ass of a billionaire heir. And I had just suicidally slapped the back of his head. I quickly got off him and used all my strength to help Julian up. Blinking my big eyes with utmost sincerity, I said, “I have no malicious intent towards you, and I won’t take your money. But to prevent you from taking revenge on me in the future, I have to do one thing.” The young master immediately went on alert. “What are you doing?” I reached out with trembling hands, trying to unbutton his shirt. “You dare?!” Julian’s face flushed red, and he began to struggle frantically. His white dress shirt buttons were hard to undo. I was already nervous, and he was struggling violently. I could only coax him gently, “It’s okay, it’ll be over soon. I’ll finish quickly.” Maybe because I had loosened the rope a bit earlier, the knot on Julian’s hands actually came undone. Before I could dodge, he flipped me over and pinned me under him. His face was cold and menacing as he choked my neck. “Who sent you?” I confessed without thinking. “The System! That money-losing System made me do it!” “Chloe!!” The System roared. “You coward!!” Julian frowned slightly. “What did he make you do?” “Make me… make me love you.” I thought about it and shook my head. “No, make you love me.” I spoke sincerely, and Julian believed it. He nodded calmly. “Oh.” I just breathed a sigh of relief when the large hand on my neck suddenly tightened. His dark eyes were cold and emotionless, as if looking at a dead object. I couldn’t breathe. The feeling of suffocation made my vision go black. “Relax. It’ll be over soon,” Julian comforted me gently. His low, melodious voice sounded like the whisper of the Reaper. In the moment of life and death, I finally grabbed his critical area. And squeezed hard. Come on! Mutual destruction! Julian’s face changed. His eyes turned bloodshot, and he didn’t dare apply more force. I raised my eyebrows arrogantly. Julian stared at me grimly. Our eyes met, filled with pure hate. He loosened his grip a little, and I loosened mine a little. But no one let go first. The System, which had crashed from fear earlier, was now mentally broken. It laughed inexplicably. “Haha, how is this not a match made in heaven? Maybe you’ve pioneered the path of pure hate redemption. Haha, I might as well die.” After speaking, the System went completely silent. During the standoff, the front door slammed onto the floor. I looked over in shock. Immediately, a crowd rushed in through the door. Police, reporters, countless flashes going off at Julian and me. Why are there reporters? A beautiful woman crying squeezed through the crowd. “Julian! You died so…” Her crying stopped abruptly when she saw the two of us. Julian suddenly lowered his head and kissed my cheek. “Baby, let go first. We’ll continue later.” 2 I reacted instantly, covering my face quickly, not forgetting to act. “I’m so scared.” “It’s okay.” Julian sat up, rubbed my hair, and slowly untied the rope on his feet. “I think there’s been a misunderstanding.” Actually, there was no misunderstanding. The reporters were driven away. Julian faced the police alone. “This is my girlfriend. We usually play like this.” I sat in the back nodding furiously, chiming in, “Right, so what about my door?” Sadly, no one paid attention to me. “Your stepmother called the police, saying you were kidnapped by a gang of bandits.” The young and beautiful stepmother looked guilty. “Julian, I thought you were kidnapped, so I called the police.” Julian sneered. “Then I should thank you for caring about me so much.” Zero people care about my silently deceased door? I rent this place! And I am absolutely not paying to fix the door. I quickly got up, grabbed Julian’s arm, and said sweetly, “Auntie, then you have to pay for the door. You wasted police resources and trespassed on private property. But considering your age, I won’t hold it against you. Just pay me some emotional damage fees and repair costs.” Julian’s stepmother froze, looking helplessly at Julian, tears welling up again. “Julian, I…” Don’t even think about using relationships to get out of paying! I interrupted her quickly, stopping her pitiful act. “Auntie, don’t worry, we’re family. I won’t scam you. You’re a decent person; you’d be unhappy if I didn’t let you pay. Ju-Ju said you’ve always been generous.” “Ju-Ju?” Julian’s stepmother seemed unable to believe her ears. Julian also looked at me. I held his arm tightly to prevent him from turning hostile. “Yes, that’s my nickname for him. Calling him Julian feels so distant. Don’t you think Ju-Ju is catchy and positive?” She wanted to say something else, but I didn’t give her the chance. I decisively pulled out my phone and opened my QR code. “Let’s add each other on WeChat, and you can transfer the money to me.” She looked at Julian, then at me, and finally silently added me. “Taking classes for him? Taking exams? Picking up delivery?” She looked at me with a complicated expression. “Does Julian not spend money on you?” I said righteously, “We have a pure physical relationship.” Julian’s stepmother didn’t say a word and turned to leave. I didn’t forget to remind her, “Remember to transfer the money, Auntie!” Hearing this, the stepmother paused, then immediately transferred five thousand dollars. Wow! Rich people are generous! I gave a thumbs up and said sincerely, “Ju-Ju, your stepmom is a great philanthropist.” Julian stared at me for a while, then suddenly smirked. His handsome face coupled with that soul-snatching smile made it hard to look away, but I sensed a hint of danger. “Since we’ve met the parents, why don’t you come home with me?” I wanted to refuse, but his words were full of threats. “Do you want people to think you’re really a kidnapper?” Considering the police officer was still there, I swallowed my curses and smiled. “Sure, I’d love to.” Julian handed over the aftermath to someone else and prepared to take me home. I asked him to wait while I packed. I picked up my pot. Julian stood behind me. “Put it down.” Fine. Then I’ll take my fan. Julian said coldly, “Put it down.” I tentatively picked up the desk lamp. He was like a repeater. “Put it down.” Can’t take this, can’t take that! I turned around angrily, about to curse him out. Julian seemed to predict my move. “I’ll transfer you ten thousand later. Don’t take anything, okay?” I instantly softened, grinning. “Okay.” Sitting in Julian’s luxury car, I held my broken phone, grinning from ear to ear. I made fifteen thousand in just one day. Anyone would say I have a good life. Julian closed his eyes and suddenly asked, “What did you mean by that System you mentioned?” “Just what it means.” I was busy buying a new phone and didn’t have time for him. He paused and asked again, “What’s your name?” “Chloe. Chloe Fang.” He asked again, “How many people in your family?” I was getting impatient. “I’m an orphan.” “In college?” Julian opened his eyes and raised an eyebrow. “Yeah.” I said seriously, “I have to remind you, your whereabouts are very easy to track. Why were you sleeping on the roof for no reason? It’s dangerous. If someone wanted to kill you, they could have just thrown you off.” Julian stared at me indifferently. “Then why didn’t you throw me off?” I quickly cleared my name. “Hey, watch your words. I’m not a psychopathic killer. I just wanted to redeem you.” “Redeem?” He smirked. “Are you going to redeem me in the future too?” I clasped my hands together, devout and serious. “Actually, I support you destroying the world. After I finish spending this fifteen thousand, can you blow up the world? I don’t want to face the life of a broke person anymore.” Julian raised an eyebrow. “I will destroy the world in the future?” So he doesn’t want to destroy the world yet? I called the money-losing System in my mind. “Come out! What now? What do I say?” The System was silent. He was staring at me with those clear, dark peach blossom eyes. I laughed awkwardly and explained, “No, I was talking nonsense.” He smiled without speaking. The more Julian smiled, the more panicked I got. I pleaded earnestly, “Why do you want to destroy the world? There’s no reason, Ju-Ju. Don’t you think I just love talking nonsense? Actually, I’m mentally ill. Don’t believe me, okay?” “No.” He sat up straight, half-smiling. “Starting now, I want to destroy the world.” I suspect this kid is targeting me on purpose. I darkened my face and threatened him half-heartedly, “If you want to destroy the world because of one sentence from me, then I’ll have to redeem you. From now on, I will haunt you like a ghost and make you fall in love with me.” The car slowly stopped. Before getting out, Julian chuckled low in my ear. “It’s okay, take your time.” “Maybe you won’t live to see that time.” He is definitely targeting me. With that, he turned to get out of the car. I gritted my teeth with hatred and kicked his raised butt. Get down. Julian was kicked out, stumbled, and almost fell flat on his face. “Ah, baby, I’m so sorry.” I quickly got out to help him up, patting his butt. Julian’s face was iron green, but I smiled cheerfully. “I didn’t mean to. You surely won’t be mad at me, right?” The Sterling family butler came out to greet us. A smile appeared on Julian’s face. He reached out and pinched my cheek hard. “How could I be mad at you? Baby, you are so cute. So cute I really want to strangle you.” I was in pain but couldn’t scream. I could only look at him with a smile, reaching out to pinch his cheek just as hard. I said sweetly, “Baby, actually, I love you so much I want to strangle you too.” 3 Julian and I entered the Sterling house with red marks on our faces. Grandpa Sterling was waiting for us. He heard there was a granddaughter-in-law and couldn’t wait to see me. Julian’s stepmother sat obediently by his side, eyes lowered, looking very meek. I was dressed very plainly. I thought I would be looked down upon, but the old man seemed to appreciate a broke person like me. “Look, kids these days are rarely this simple and unpretentious.” Old man, open your eyes to the world. All broke people are as unpretentious as me. “Eh? Why do you have red marks on your faces?” Grandpa Sterling asked suddenly. I smiled and touched my cheek. “We just love to play rough. Sorry you had to see that, Grandpa.” Hearing this, Julian’s stepmother turned pale and slowly stood up. “Dad, I’m not feeling well. I’ll go back first.” “Go, go. Sickly all day, no energy.” The old man seemed to dislike her, frowning impatiently. Before leaving, the philanthropist glanced at Julian. The look had a hint of resentment, quickly withdrawn, but I keenly caught it. I thought it was a plot where the stepmother hires a hitman, but it turned out to be a soap opera drama. Unfortunately, the feelings were unrequited. Julian never looked at her. I chatted with the old man for a while until he got tired. Julian helped him to rest, and the butler took me to my room. As soon as I entered the room, I stopped. Black curtains drawn tight, black carpet, black bed, even the closet was black. This was very unfriendly to someone like me who insists on pink bedsheets. I turned to look at the butler and asked sincerely, “This looks like hell. It’s so dark. Can I not stay here?” “Aren’t you staying with the Young Master? Madam said your relationship is good, so she didn’t prepare a guest room.” I smiled and shook my head. “Our relationship isn’t that good. Can I trouble you…” Before I could finish, Julian walked up from behind and interrupted me. “Uncle Zhao, she’s staying with me. You can go.” With that, the young master smiled at me slightly. “Baby, stop joking like that, or people will think we are liars.” Under duress, I had to swallow my anger and reluctantly walked into the room so dark I couldn’t see people. The door closed. Julian turned on the light, but I still looked resentful. “You didn’t say we were living together before coming.” “Didn’t you want to make me fall in love with you?” Julian walked past me, slowly taking off his watch, speaking calmly. “Spending day and night together, maybe you’ll succeed.” I didn’t think this psycho would fall in love with me, nor did I think I had that charm. But since I’m here, I just have to make the best of it. “So you’re sleeping in the same bed as me?” I asked the most critical question. The young master sat down calmly, took out a glass from the cabinet, and opened a bottle of wine that looked expensive. He poured himself a glass. “You can sleep on the floor or the sofa, but I will never sleep on the floor or the sofa.” I sneered immediately. “Then we sleep together. If I snore, grind my teeth, or fart at night, don’t regret it.” “Mmh.” Julian was as calm as could be. “If I sleepwalk in the middle of the night, just don’t be scared.” A worthy opponent. The wine on the table looked expensive. I poured myself a glass angrily. This wine must cost a fortune. Not drinking it is a waste! First time drinking liquor, I downed it in one gulp. Julian glanced at me but didn’t speak. “What kind of crappy wine is this? So bitter. Bitter and spicy.” I choked, taking a while to recover. After a while, my chest felt hot, and my consciousness drifted a bit. I sat next to Julian, staring at his face, forgetting what I wanted to say. After a long time, I finally remembered. I reached out to cup his face and shouted in surprise, “I remember! I wanted to tell you, you’re actually pretty big!” Julian slapped my hand away, his ears turning completely red. “What nonsense are you talking about?!” I took the opportunity to persuade him. “Look at you. Rich, handsome, highly educated, and remarkably well-endowed. What’s there to be unhappy about?” Thinking of my own crappy life, comparing it to others felt like a joke. I sighed. “I can’t even imagine what troubles you could have.” I suddenly remembered the philanthropist. “Don’t tell me it’s unrequited love. Your dad will die sooner or later. Your good days are ahead.” Julian finally snapped back and pushed me away. I floated down onto the sofa. Well, wherever I fall is where I’ll sleep for a while. “No sleeping.” Julian patted my cheek. “Tell me what else you know.” I suddenly felt so wronged. Sleeping was my only joy. Before, I had to work and study and never got enough sleep. Why can’t I sleep now? I was aggrieved to death. I asked him, “Why can’t I sleep? I haven’t slept well in a long time.” Julian frowned and lowered his voice. “I’ll let you sleep after you finish talking.” “What did the System tell you?” I thought about it. “He said you will destroy the world in the future, and no one can stop you. He also said you are vindictive and ruthless. He told me to love you, fill your heart with love and sunshine, treat you well, and redeem you.” “Anything else?” I closed my eyes again, planning to sleep. “Nothing else.” Julian picked me up, forcing me to stay awake. “Did anyone send you to assassinate me? Is the System a code name? Where is he?” This guy is too suspicious. “No.” I had to open my eyes. “The System is just a system. He crashed and stopped contacting me. How would I know?” I leaned on his shoulder, unable to control myself, complaining, “Do you have persecution mania? Do you think the whole world is your enemy? In this world, only I have the obligation to be good to you, and you don’t even cherish it.” Julian stopped talking. I was drowsy but felt something was wrong. Why did I answer whatever he asked? Is this what they call “truth after drinking”? Whatever. Sleep. I had a terrible dream. I dreamed I was tightly wrapped by a giant python. The black python was thick and strong, wrapping around my whole body. It didn’t eat me, just waited slowly for me to suffocate to death. No, no. This feeling of death-like suffocation was incredibly real. I struggled, trying desperately to break free. “Help, don’t eat me.” In the nick of time, I finally shouted out. A hand broke free and slapped the python’s big head. A crisp sound rang in my ear. My palm stung slightly. I opened my eyes slowly, confused. Because Julian was holding me in his arms in an extremely ambiguous posture. He buried his head in my hair, seeming to smell my scent. “What are you doing?” I was speechless. His expression didn’t change, nor did he try to explain. He slowly let go. There was a clear red mark on Julian’s fair face. Just as I was about to ask if he planned to murder me, the butler knocked on the door. “Sir is asking for you two.” … Yes, he has persecution mania. He had this problem since childhood. After some treatment, he still always feels someone is trying to harm him. Chloe fell asleep in his arms. Julian thought about it and didn’t let go. She had a reassuring scent. Holding her felt safe. At first, he only wanted to hold her for a while. Somehow it evolved into holding her tightly. A slap came. Julian froze, looking down. Their eyes met. Julian suddenly thought she looked cute. Her eyes were bright, like a puppy. He wanted to laugh, but he held it back. Because if Chloe knew his thoughts, she would jump up and hit him on the head. Flailing her claws, as if afraid of nothing. Chloe walked in front of him. Although she had never been here, never met his father, she was confident, as if she could solve any problem. Julian followed closely behind her. 4 Julian’s father expressed great disappointment about today’s events and told Julian to break up with me as soon as possible. I lowered my eyes, but Julian didn’t seem to listen at all. He held my hand in his and kept kneading it. He pinched my fingertips. I glanced at him unhappily. Do you have a death wish? This is a hand, not a stress ball. Julian’s father also noticed his small movements. In a rage, he slammed the table. “Look at what you’ve become!” Father Sterling was furious, but Julian smiled very happily. I silently stared at Julian. Does this guy have Oppositional Defiant Disorder? “I don’t even want to talk about that slap mark on your face!” Father Sterling glanced at me, then took out several stacks of cash from the safe behind him and slammed them heavily on the table. I finally stopped playing dead. I pulled my hand back sharply, sat up straight, and looked at Father Sterling expectantly. Come on! Smash me with money! Give me money, let me roll! Father Sterling’s face turned red. He pointed at Julian and roared, “Slap him again for me, and all this money is yours!” My eyes lit up. Really? Daddy. Is money this easy to earn? “You dare.” Julian glanced at me and said in a low voice. I slapped him without thinking. “Bold! Is this how you talk to your father? I hit you not because of the money, but because you failed your father’s painstaking efforts!” Julian looked at me gloomily. I widened my eyes. “What are you looking at? Apologize to Uncle!” I stood up abruptly and advised earnestly, “I know you are a filial person. Uncle treats you so well. I can’t bear to let you father and son have differences because of me. No choice, Ju-Ju. I love you very much, but I still have to go. Let’s break up!” Although no tears came out, my tone was very sincere. I looked grief-stricken and reached for the tens of thousands of dollars on the table. Too sad. Can only run away with the money in tears. Just as I reached out, Father Sterling suddenly held my hand, seemingly deeply touched by my words. “Chloe, children as sensible as you are rare nowadays. Uncle spoke a bit heavily just now.” I froze. “Now it seems you and Julian are a good match. You must discipline him well.” Julian also stood up and put his arm around me. “Dad, now you know? Chloe is such a simple, unpretentious, non-greedy girl. You give her money, she doesn’t even want it.” Father Sterling withdrew his hand in shame and stuffed all the money back. “Uncle was too shallow. Chloe, don’t hold it against me.” I really wanted to cry this time. Not taking this money is no different from losing it. I walked downstairs in a daze and ate with the Sterling family. At the dinner table, I learned Julian has two younger brothers. One about his age named Ryan. They didn’t look much alike. Ryan sat the farthest away, eyes lowered. After saying hello, he sat down obediently to eat. There was also a four-year-old brother named Nate, looking sturdy and cute. Julian’s stepmother is named Catherine. She went to the same school as me before. After graduating from college, she married Father Sterling. The Sterling family relationships aren’t too complicated. After dinner, Julian had things to deal with and asked me to go back to the room to rest first. When I went upstairs, I met Ryan following behind me. To be polite, I waited for him. Ryan looked up at me. His dark brown eyes had no emotion. He said nothing. I didn’t know what to say either, so I smiled at him. We walked upstairs side by side and separated at the stairs. I lost tens of thousands of dollars. I lay on the sofa sighing in despair. When Julian came back, I threw a pillow at him. “That was tens of thousands of dollars! Julian, are you targeting me on purpose?” He caught the pillow easily and smirked. “I haven’t settled the score with you for hitting me yet.” I cursed his entire family in my heart. Julian walked slowly to me, sat down slowly, and said casually, “Stay away from everyone in this house, especially Ryan.” I always take such advice to heart. I nodded and silently moved away from Julian. Julian noticed my movement, glanced at me, and pulled me back with a cold face. “Not including me.” He knocked on my head with his finger, frowning slightly in confusion. “Aren’t you afraid of bad guys trying to harm you?” I really wanted to say, no one in this world is worse than you. But I didn’t say it. I just told him sincerely, “Nothing in this world scares me except poverty. As long as I have money, I am invincible.” Hearing this, Julian curled his lips slightly but said nothing. A large sofa. He read beside me, and I lay by his legs catching up on villain redemption novels. The quiet and comfortable environment was relaxing but also made my mind wander. I suddenly sat up. Julian looked up at me. I looked at him seriously. “Were you bullied?” He said without hesitation, “No.” I didn’t give up. “Then were you bullied by your family?” Julian didn’t change his expression, saying coldly, “No either. As you can see, no one in this house can do anything to me yet.” Impossible! There’s always a reason for becoming a villain! I held his hand, intending to warm his heart through thermal transfer. “Then tell the truth. Are you rebellious because of Catherine?” “Catherine… she is indeed a bit annoying.” He thought for a moment, closed the book with his other hand, and squeezed my hand slightly. “She chased me for a long time. Very annoying.” Me: “…Then what is the biggest setback in your life?” Julian smiled. “Baby, I’m different from you. My life has no setbacks.” I couldn’t smile. What does that mean? Is this dead thing speaking human language? Is he inhuman? The villain with no setbacks pulled the phone from my hand, glanced at the book title. “Better uninstall it. Reading this stuff all the time, you won’t live until the day the world is destroyed.” I raised an eyebrow and retorted, “If your life has no setbacks, why do you suspect someone wants to kill you?” Julian pinched my fingers, answering slowly, “If you hadn’t kidnapped me, I wouldn’t suspect someone wanted to kill me.” So it’s all my fault? I was dead inside. I exited the reading app, slightly dissatisfied. “I also think these redemption novels are unreliable. Kissing and hugging for no reason, is that serious redemption?” Julian always has a sharp tongue. I thought he would laugh at me, but he put the book aside. “It’s late. Time to sleep.” Julian slept on the bed, I slept on the sofa. All these years, I could sleep in any harsh environment. Sleeping on a soft, large sofa was already very good. The pitch-black environment helped sleep. I fell asleep in a while. I dreamed I was wrapped by a giant python again. Help. Why are there pythons everywhere? This time the python wrapped tighter, even biting my neck. So scary. Pythons evolve. I opened my eyes groggily. The pitch-black room prevented me from seeing who was beside me. Hot breath scattered on my neck and chest. My waist and back were hugged tightly. Julian buried his head in my neck like a dying ghost, inhaling deeply, as if he were a plant dying of thirst, lying on me to absorb water and nutrients.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “386420”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

The year Liam and I hated each other the most was the year he tortured and killed the dog I had raised for ten years, just to please his little secretary. In retaliation, I stabbed the secretary five times. I watched her scream and lose her mind like it was a work of art. Everyone thought Liam would take my life. Instead, he just threw divorce papers at me and said coldly: “You’re nothing but a dog the Miller family raised. If you want to be crazy, get out.” After that night, I disappeared. Until five years later, when I attended a gala in my father’s place and saw Liam’s secretary again. She poured red wine on me. “I was wondering who this was. Turns out it’s the dog the Millers threw away.” I grabbed a bottle of champagne and smashed it over her head. “Five years didn’t teach you how to be human. Today, I will.” 1 Sarah’s screams echoed through the hall. Her entourage immediately swarmed in front of her, yelling at me. “Who the hell are you?!” “Do you know who you just hit?!” “Let me tell you,” the loudest one pointed a finger in my face, “she is the fiancée of the heir to the Miller Group! You offend her, and Liam won’t let you off!” Someone even blocked my path, sneering, “I want to see which idiot has no eyes and dares to offend Liam’s heart. Everyone knows Liam is a wife-guy. Usually, if Miss Sarah even loses a hair, Liam turns the world upside down. And you just broke her head open!” Sarah clutched her bleeding forehead, glaring at me viciously. “I’m telling you, Charlotte, I was kind enough to let you go five years ago, but that doesn’t mean I’m afraid of you now! You were just a dog Liam kept at home! Five years ago I could ruin you, and since you dare to show up today, I can ruin you again!” I looked at the changes in Sarah over the last five years. I had to admit. Liam had taken good care of her. The woman who used to timidly call me “Mrs. Miller” could now publicly threaten to “ruin” me. Unfortunately, I’ve never been a pushover. Not five years ago. And certainly not now. Surrounded by the crowd, I looked at the shattered glass on the floor. I bent down, and to everyone’s shock, picked up a sharp shard. I smiled. “Sarah.” I walked towards her step by step. “Five years ago,” I dangled the bloody shard, “I gave you too much face.” “What?” I stared at Sarah’s lower abdomen, dragging the shard’s path through the air from her face down to her stomach. “Stabbing out your uterus wasn’t enough to teach you a lesson?” “In that case.” My smile turned sinister. Before anyone could react, I raised the shard and stabbed it violently towards her stomach. But. Before I could make contact, my wrist was suddenly grabbed. I heard a scream, and then Sarah’s tearful voice. “Liam.” “I’m scared.” Five years ago, when I pinned Sarah to the ground and stabbed her again and again, she had looked at him with the same terrified eyes and cried the same words. “Liam, I’m scared.” Time overlapped. A familiar voice came from behind me. “Charlotte, it’s been five years.” “How come,” Liam’s voice was dark, “you still haven’t learned to behave?” My wrist was yanked hard. The pain made me frown, but I didn’t submit like I did five years ago. Instead, it ignited the suppressed violence in my blood. I gripped the shard tightly, feeling it cut into my own palm. Just as Liam was about to snatch it away… I turned my head quickly and smiled at him. “Long time no see.” “Liam.” I drove the shard deep into Liam’s arm. Blood sprayed, blurring my vision. 2 The venue descended into chaos. I heard countless screams, shouts for security, and whispers of shock. “Who is this woman? Is she crazy?! She dared to stab Liam Miller!” “Wait, I heard Miss Sarah say five years ago… Didn’t Liam kick out an orphan the Miller family adopted, his nominal wife, five years ago? Holy sh*t, is that her?” “Doesn’t look like her.” “I heard that orphan had no family, only a dog. And because the dog offended Miss Sarah, it was tortured to death all night! Everyone in the elite circle has seen that video! The dog was skinned alive!” “Look! Liam is actually laughing!” Blood seeped from Liam’s arm. Sarah screamed, “Liam!” Then, ignoring her own bleeding forehead, she rushed at Liam like a maniac, shielding him behind her and screaming at me. “Charlotte! How dare you hurt Liam!” “The Miller family raised you for twenty years, and this is how you repay them? You ungrateful wolf! Apologize to Liam right now!” Watching Sarah act like the mistress of the Miller household, ordering me around, I only found it amusing. I looked at Liam. “Raised for five years, and you raised a dog to bark for you. Liam, do you feel satisfied?” Sarah’s face went pale. Liam immediately pulled Sarah behind him, just like five years ago. “Charlotte, we were done five years ago.” “I told you, my heart only has Sarah. I won’t love you, and I can’t like you,” Liam looked at me coldly. “I don’t care how you lived these past five years, or how you got an invite to sneak in here.” “But I will never let you return to the Miller family to harm Sarah again.” “Charlotte.” Liam looked down at me from his height. “I could have ignored your existence today, but since you hurt Sarah, you have to pay the price.” Liam clapped his hands, and a group of security guards surrounded us. “Do you choose to do it yourself, or should I?” A guard handed him a knife. Liam took it, waiting for my answer. But I laughed out loud. “Liam, do you think the world revolves around you?” I pointed at the knife in his hand. “If you have the guts, you’d better finish me today,” I stepped closer. “Otherwise, when it’s my turn to deal with you…” “Don’t you dare,” I leaned in close, articulating clearly, “kneel and beg for mercy.” “Hahaha.” My laughter echoed in the silent banquet hall. Liam’s face was dark. Seeing him tremble with rage reminded me of five years ago. He used my dog, Buddy, to force me to kneel and kowtow. He locked Buddy in a cage, taped his mouth shut, and threatened to slice him open if I didn’t beg. My pride was shattered. Watching Buddy in agony, I knelt and begged. “Liam!” I cried and pleaded. “Don’t hurt Buddy.” “I admit it! I was wrong! I know I was wrong!” I only had Buddy. My only wish was to take Buddy and leave the Miller family. I begged desperately. “Let Buddy go! Please let him go!” I will never forget the look of pain in Buddy’s eyes. And I will never forget the hatred carved into my bones. Facing Liam now, all that remains is unburned rage. “Liam, you’re just a dog played by Sarah,” I said word by word. “If your grandfather knew he handed the family to you, he’d crawl out of his grave to strangle you!” “After all, the Miller family is completely finished!” 3 My throat was strangled tight. My breath was stolen. Oxygen was fading. I met Liam’s crimson eyes and heard his vicious, insane voice. “Charlotte, don’t think I won’t kill you!” “You are just a dog of the Miller family,” Liam slammed me onto the floor. Champagne glass shards pierced my skin, cutting countless tiny wounds. The pain made me shudder. Liam grabbed my hair. “If I want you to kneel, you kneel!” “If I want you to die! You die!” Liam smirked at me. “But today, I don’t really want you to die.” “After all,” Liam patted my face, “such a good toy shouldn’t be broken so easily, right?” I looked at Liam, inches away. I remembered the day Sarah sent me that video, her tone bragging. I just told Liam the dog scared me, and he skinned it. Say, if next time I tell Liam you scare me too, will he skin you as well? So funny! Nominally you are Mrs. Miller, but you are lower than a servant. Now, looking at Liam’s expression, a metallic taste rose in my throat. As he raised his hand to slap my face again, I spat a mouthful of bloody phlegm onto his face. Seeing the momentary shock turn to disgust on his face, I laughed. “That’s right, Liam.” “How can you die so quickly,” I mimicked his tone and laughed, “After all, such a fun game has to be played to the end.” Since I came back. I never planned to let the Millers go. Everyone who hurt Buddy will pay. Buddy died a cruel death; how could I spare them? Seeing my stubbornness. Liam suddenly let go of my hair and wiped the bloody spit off his face. “True.” “Some things need to be tortured slowly.” “Since you’re back,” Liam looked at me, “let’s play.” Liam stopped looking at me and ordered the guards. “Watch her.” “Don’t let her run.” Then, Liam returned to his gentle self, turning to Sarah. “Does it hurt?” He gently wiped away Sarah’s tears. “I’ll take you to the private room.” Sarah collapsed into his arms, sobbing. “With you, it doesn’t hurt.” “With you here,” she choked out, “I’m not afraid of anything.” I watched Liam carry Sarah away. I sat on the floor, the tiny cuts stinging. The sycophants around me started spewing venom. “Who does she think she is? Daring to hurt Liam. It’s a mercy he didn’t half-kill her today. Get lost.” “Exactly! I heard before, she’s just an orphan Old Man Miller picked up. The family raised her, and she bit the hand that fed her by attacking Miss Sarah. She deserved to be kicked out.” “By the way,” someone laughed and opened their phone, “I still have the video of that dog.” The person opened their gallery and found the torture video. Others crowded around. “Let me see.” “I want to see too.” 4 Buddy’s screams rang out. It triggered something in me. I picked up a shard from the floor, grabbed that guy by his hair, and stabbed it into his eye. Screams drilled into my ears. I admired it like art, turning to see the people who were pointing at me moments ago now silenced. No one dares to mess with a lunatic. Especially a lunatic like me, who dared to take the life of the Miller heir. Even the security guards didn’t dare touch me. I looked at the crowd of cowards, spat out a mouthful of blood, dropped a “Useless,” and headed in Liam’s direction. Liam took Sarah to the private room and called his private doctor. The doctor carefully examined Sarah’s wound, but she cried, “Don’t look at me, look at Liam.” “I really didn’t expect,” Sarah choked, “Charlotte is even crazier after five years. I shouldn’t have been soft-hearted back then. She’s here now because she can’t let go of you.” “Back then, everyone knew Charlotte loved you to death. Just because you were a little nice to me, she embarrassed me in public and slapped me.” Sarah wiped her tears. “Liam, don’t let her ruin our relationship again, okay?” Liam sat by the bed, holding Sarah’s hand, comforting her softly. “I won’t, don’t worry.” “To me,” Liam scoffed, “Charlotte was just a toy. When I was bored as a kid, I’d lock her in a dark room and scare her with snakes and rats. Listening to her cry was fun.” “Later, I found out she was feeding stray dogs, so I poisoned a few. She actually pulled a knife on me for those animals.” Liam gritted his teeth. “That dog deserved to die.” I reached the door of the private room just in time to hear this. I remembered back then, Liam chained me up for three whole days. I was covered in wounds, yet he still choked me and demanded: “No birth control!” I still remember Liam’s sick, obsessive eyes clearly. “Since playing with you isn’t enough, then carry my seed. I want to see if your bones are still this hard when you’re pregnant with my child!” Later, Buddy brought the Old Man to save me. Buddy went with me to the hospital, where I ensured I could never be a mother. Even if I could never have children. I would never give birth to a child with Liam’s blood. That was also when. Liam decided to kill Buddy. My phone vibrated. I looked at the caller ID, my face softening. “You went to the gala for Dad?” His voice was gentle. “Heard the ex-husband is there too. Why didn’t you wait for me?” Hearing his voice, I couldn’t help complaining. “I’m about to get killed! Come save me before I die!” I hung up. I heard Sarah ask him, “What if Charlotte still wants to be with you?” Before Liam could answer. I kicked open the door. Facing Sarah’s shocked face, Liam immediately shielded her. “Charlotte! You really have no shame!” “You chased us here!” Liam looked at me with amusement. “What, want to come back and be Mrs. Miller? Who do you think you are—” I raised the knife in my hand, rushed to Liam, and stabbed it into his abdomen. I sneered at him. “Liam!” “Go to hell!”

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