Author: Momo Chan

After getting “canceled” online, my dad shipped me off to our family farm to take care of piglets with my grandpa. Thinking it would be funny, I started a livestream to name the piglets. Netizens were roasting me? Fine, I’ll just use their usernames as names. But when it came to the last piglet—a super cute, chubby white one—no matter how much the internet screamed at me, I insisted on naming it “Julian Hayes.” Later, this hit the trending topics. And to everyone’s shock, the usually cold and aloof A-list actor Julian Hayes posted on Weibo to clap back. The picture showed Julian holding a Golden Retriever puppy. Caption: “This one is named Ann.” 1 My name is Ann Jiang. I’m a D-list celebrity. During a variety show, in an attempt to save a teammate, I accidentally pushed the mega-star Bella down. Boom. Instant cancellation. The internet swarmed me, calling me malicious, heartless, a bully, blah blah blah. Eventually, the news reached my billionaire dad. He solemnly told me to get my butt back home. My dad wanted me to inherit his billion-dollar empire. I wasn’t interested, so I snuck off to join the entertainment industry behind his back. This scandal was the perfect excuse for him. No matter how I begged or promised, he was determined to drag me back. So, I was exiled to the family farm’s pigsty. Daily routine: Feed pigs, watch pigs, open gate, close gate, shovel feed. Later, the sows gave birth to a lot of cute piglets. But some… weren’t exactly lookers. Bored out of my mind, I decided to entertain myself. I started a livestream to let netizens name the piglets. 2 As soon as I went live, tens of thousands of people flooded in. It scared me. You’d think I was actually famous. But really, I’ve always been “black-red” (famous for being hated). My web dramas flop, and in variety shows… well, I do whatever it takes to win. Watching the viewer count climb, I gathered the piglets together and cleared my throat. “Hi everyone, I’m Ann Jiang. I want to name my piglets, does anyone have any good suggestions?” The comments were scrolling fast, full of hate. CilantroHater: [Ann Jiang is raising pigs now? That desperate?] WolfKing: [I knew she was a hillbilly lol] Looking at the comments, I was a bit worried. They were just cursing at me, which wasn’t helping with the names. Then I saw a comment that gave me an idea. Did_Bella_Poop_Today: [Pusher Girl dares to show her face? Disgusting.] Since they were using words to hurt me, why couldn’t I use their names for the pigs? 3 I looked at the comment cursing me, then turned to look at the piglets. I picked one out. This one was pitch black with an underbite. Definitely the ugliest one. Okay, little piggie, you’re the chosen one. I pulled the little black pig over and said to the phone, “Okay friends, this ugliest piglet is now named Bella_No_Poop.” The comments stopped for a second, then exploded with “HAHAHAHAHA”. Someone even sent me a small gift, a few lollipops. [Hahahahahaha this is too funny sisters] [How dare you, the person above is ridiculous, hahahaha] [You got guts, kid] As the comments scrolled, another one caught my eye. Bella_Loves_Hot_Guys: [Why are you always chasing clout? So cringe.] Coincidentally, a piglet nudged my leg. I picked it up and shoved its face into the camera. “Mm, this second-ugliest pig is now named Bella_Loves_Ugly_Guys.” [Hahahahaha, this girl is hilarious] [Piglet: No one is speaking up for me?] [Piglet: You think you’re noble? You’re using me as a weapon!] [Is the vibe shifting? She’s clearly malicious, full of bad intentions] Watching the arguments in the chat, I couldn’t help but laugh. Then I got flamed. I_Want_Money: [You pushed someone and think you’re right? You’re everywhere.] I picked another piglet and booped the phone with its nose. “This ugly pig is named You_Got_No_Money.” [Hahahaha, that’s a personal attack] [Hahaha, you’re broke too] While everyone was mocking me, suddenly the user named I_Want_Money sent me a Carnival (expensive gift). It was my first livestream, first time seeing this. Watching the big spender drop Carnivals was dazzling. Whoa, playing hard? The big spender kept sending gifts, only the expensive ones. Other netizens joined in like they were starting a riot, and my livestream became chaos. Seeing it getting out of hand, I spoke up, “Enough, enough. Keep sending and you won’t have any money left.” [This kid really doesn’t care.] [Was she always this funny? Converting from hater to fan.] [Same here ^] … Only one piglet left. A white, chubby, super cute one. Netizens urged me to grab someone’s name quickly. “Nope. This piglet can only be named Julian Hayes.” [???!!!!] 4 When it came to the last piglet, the netizens were active. [Hurry up, name this one!] [This piglet is so cute!!!!] [Use my name, I curse better] [The person above is sinister, use mine] Watching the comments, I turned to look at the piglet, gently stroking its ears. “Can’t do that. I have a plan for this one’s name.” [What is it what is it] Seeing their questions, I smiled slightly. “This one is Julian Hayes.” The chat exploded. [What???! Say that again??!!] [Huh?!!!!] [No!!!! You can read my ID card number, I can be your pig, but you can’t make my god a pig!] [Cringe girl chasing clout again, hehe] Seeing their reaction, I repeated it. “This piglet is named Julian Hayes, no negotiation.” Ignoring the netizens’ thoughts, I picked up the piglet and ended the stream. For a nobody like me, this stream wouldn’t mean much. At worst, I just leached off Julian’s fame again. Bad publicity is still publicity. Use all available resources. After a few years in this industry, I’ve learned that thick skin takes you far. I’m stuck in a pigsty thanks to him anyway. Leeching a bit is fair game. But what I didn’t expect was that after this livestream, my life was about to get interesting.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “386278”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

At Julian’s 28th birthday party, someone “gifted” him a woman right in front of me. Instead of my usual gentle smile, I smashed a champagne glass, wrecked the party, and walked out. I packed my bags and left alone. Everyone said the helpless Mrs. Thorne wouldn’t last three days before crawling back. Julian didn’t care either: “She’s an orphan. Where else can she go without the Thorne family?” But countless “three days” passed. People even started to speculate I had died somewhere. Finally, Julian called for the first time. Only to find the number disconnected. Later, at a famous artist’s exhibition, a portrait of a woman’s profile captivated Julian. He offered an astronomical price to buy it. The artist, Leo, smiled apologetically: “This is the portrait of my wife I am most satisfied with. I cannot part with it.” Chapter 1 It was Julian’s 28th birthday party. I wore my most exquisite gown, entering on his arm. The moment we stepped off the stairs, Julian let go of my hand and left me there. Everyone’s eyes followed him. I was forgotten in the corner. People lined up to give him gifts. He gestured indifferently for the butler to take them away. Until someone presented a beautiful woman. All eyes turned back to me. Sympathy, schadenfreude, mockery. I’d seen too many of these malicious looks over the years. Julian’s expressionless face faltered for a second. That beauty looked too much like his dead first love. “Giving me a woman in front of Mrs. Thorne? You guys have some nerve,” Julian laughed playfully. The gift-giver fawned, “Mrs. Thorne is generous; surely she won’t mind.” It wasn’t that I wouldn’t mind; they just counted on me not daring to mind. An orphan raised by the Thorne family. How could I dare say “no” to the new head of the Thorne family? Julian twisted his wedding ring, amusement in his eyes. “Since Mrs. Thorne agrees, take her…” Before he could finish, I walked up to him. Looking at the woman’s face. The gift-giver was thoughtful indeed, catering exactly to Julian’s taste. Suddenly, I felt tired. I couldn’t listen to Grandma’s advice anymore about maintaining the dignity of Mrs. Thorne. I gently pushed the champagne tower behind me. The crystal pyramid crashed down with a touch. Glass shards and liquid flew everywhere. The banquet hall turned into chaos. Someone gasped: “Mrs. Thorne has gone mad!” Chapter 2 I ruined Julian’s birthday party. But he didn’t seem to care much. The butler arranged for the guests to leave, and servants cleaned up the mess. The beauty stayed, standing quietly beside Julian. Even her personality seemed to mirror his first love. In contrast, I really did look like the crazy one. Julian played with the beauty’s fingers, looking at me casually. “Why so angry? “If you don’t want to see her, I’ll put her up somewhere else. “Don’t worry. I swore to Grandma I would never threaten your position as Mrs. Thorne.” The woman beside him also tried to persuade me. “Mrs. Thorne, why be angry? A man like Mr. Thorne won’t have just one woman. “I only admire Mr. Thorne; I won’t affect your status.” I took off my ring. Placed it on the table in front of Julian. He raised an eyebrow. “Returning the ring to you.” Julian picked up the ring and tossed it into the air. The diamond sparkled before falling back into his hand. He tossed it backward to the woman: “It’s yours. Mrs. Thorne doesn’t want a ring worth millions anymore.” Julian stood up with a sneer, instructing the butler. “Find some etiquette teachers for her. I don’t want to see such rudeness again.” He walked a few steps, then turned back. He threw his own ring on the floor. It rolled and stopped at my feet. “Since you don’t want rings, let’s throw them all away.” Chapter 3 Julian left with the woman. The roar of his car engine was distinct in the night. The butler sighed beside me: “Madam, why provoke him? You know he resents you.” I picked up the ring at my feet and threw it in the trash. “Uncle Chen, go do your work. Don’t worry about me.” The butler sighed and left. I went upstairs alone, taking off the elaborate gown. Changed into a white T-shirt, found a suitcase, and packed all my clothes, which were distinctly separated from his in the closet. Other couples consider divorce agreements when they fight. But the only tie between Julian and me was a pair of rings. No one would guess that the bride and groom of the “wedding of the century” didn’t even have a marriage certificate. I still remember what Julian said at the wedding. “Only Wendy’s name can be on my family registry. Ava, you shouldn’t have married me.” But what could I do? I married him anyway, the man I had loved for seven years since I was a teenager. Thinking one day I could move him. But in the end, I became the Mrs. Thorne in name only. When I dragged my luggage out, the villa was silent. Just like the rainy night Grandma brought me home. Thirteen-year-old Julian stood on the stairs, looking at me coldly. But then he went to the kitchen. And brought me a glass of warm milk. Chapter 4 I booked a flight. Six hours of flying, three hours of driving, back to a remote town in the South. They say people want to return to their roots when they get old. But actually, a homeless person misses their hometown too. Even if there are no relatives left there. I rented a small courtyard in town. The local dialect was familiar yet strange. I left when I was small and lived in the North ever since. I had forgotten how to speak it. Luckily, the neighbor was also an outsider, just arrived earlier than me. He helped me out when I couldn’t understand the old lady at the market. The next day, I made corn fritters to thank him. Turns out he was a painter here for inspiration. He looked like a fresh college grad, radiating warmth and youth. Away from the people and things of the North. In this simple environment, I suddenly remembered I was only 25. But acting the part of Mrs. Thorne in the Thorne family made me feel old. I bought flowers from the street and filled the courtyard with roses. A small rocking chair sat by the flowerbed. Simple, but everything I wanted. The Thorne garden was full of yellow roses Wendy liked. An expensive piano sat in the glass flower room. That was specially designed by Julian for her; no one could touch it. When Grandma wanted to pull out those roses, Julian threw a huge fit. “If the roses go, I won’t come back to this house.” No one mentioned it again. Wendy and those roses became taboo in the Thorne family.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “386277”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

A billionaire heir posted a job listing on the campus forum: [My girlfriend has a temper. Looking for a little helper to run errands, buy food, and keep her happy. Salary: $15,000/month.] As soon as the post went up, girls swarmed it. Some wanted the money; others wanted to get close to the prince and replace the princess. When it was my turn, Julian narrowed his eyes, looking bored. “Wait on her hand and foot, no complaints. Can you do that?” “Oh, and one more thing: don’t ever catch feelings for me.” I agreed. But later, on the night I announced my relationship with someone else… He cornered me against a wall, asking word by word: “Is he richer than me? Does he treat you better than I do? Why do you want to be with him?” 1 Julian prepaid me three months’ salary. A total of $45,000. He didn’t even blink. He just said, “I looked into it. Your family situation is special. Take this first.” He was right. My parents died early, and my grandma raised me. But recently, Grandma got into a car accident and was lying in the hospital. The daily bills were crushing me like a boulder. I pressed my lips together. “Thank you. I will do this job well.” He raised an eyebrow, his tone casual and arrogant. “Of course. Bella is my ancestor. Serve her well, and you’ll be rewarded.” I nodded. “Okay.” Honestly, I didn’t expect this pie to fall into my lap. I wasn’t lively, and my presence in class was practically zero. Of course, I later learned from Bella what Julian actually said about me. He said: “That girl looks average, her social skills are average, and she seems honest. A bit like… an ancient maidservant. Only someone like that can handle your temper.” So, from that day on, I became Bella’s personal servant. One call, and I was there. In less than two months, I lost a noticeable amount of weight. She had a temper. She’d call me stupid at the drop of a hat, and when she got emotional, she’d slap me in public. My roommate, Zoey, found out and was indignant for me. “This money doesn’t seem easy to earn.” “She doesn’t even treat you like a human being.” “I really envy Bella. Just relying on a pretty face to make Julian treat her like that.” I had actually heard some stories about Julian and Bella. They were high school sweethearts. Bella came from an average family. After they got together, Julian covered her tuition and living expenses. In college, she didn’t want to live in the dorms, so he bought her an apartment across the street. You could say half of Bella’s temper was spoiled into existence by Julian. Speaking of which, Zoey suddenly grabbed my face and examined it. “Nina, if you put on makeup and pinned up your bangs, you’d definitely be prettier than Bella.” “Find a rich boyfriend too, and you won’t have to suffer like this.” 2 Of course, I didn’t think I was suffering. That was $45,000! I had never seen so much money in my life. If I had any wish right now, it would be for the golden couple, Julian and Bella, to stay together forever. But the next day, I received bad news. They had a fight. Bella smashed everything in the apartment. Then she called me over: “Clean this up, and make me something to eat.” I rushed to do it. Halfway through, my phone rang. I opened it. Julian sent me a message. [Are you at her place? How is she?] I glanced at Bella not far away. She had just showered and was sitting on the sofa with a face mask on, watching a popular drama on her tablet. I considered my words carefully. I replied: [Maybe you should come coax her?] I hoped they would make up. Otherwise, I was at risk of unemployment at any moment. Unless Julian’s next girlfriend was also high-maintenance and needed a servant. Julian didn’t reply. About twenty minutes later, the porridge I made was ready. I served it and was about to put it on the dining table. But Bella suddenly stood up from the sofa and ran past me, bumping into me. The bowl shattered, and the scalding porridge spilled all over my wrist. It was so hot I couldn’t help but hiss. Bella glanced at me. “Oops, why are you so careless?” “Clean it up yourself. I’m going to change. Julian is coming over.” With that, she went into her room. I endured the pain, squatting down to clean up the mess bit by bit. About ten minutes later, the doorbell rang. Bella had changed into a pure white dress and put on light makeup, looking like a princess. And I was the princess’s maid. Grey and dusty, standing in the corner, waiting for her next command. The door opened, and I saw Julian. Every time he saw Bella, he brought gifts. Jewelry, bags, roses. Everything was jaw-droppingly expensive. Tonight was no exception. Bella looked at the luxury items in his hand and huffed. “You finally decided to come?” Julian stood at the door coaxing her, chuckling as he kissed her cheek. “Of course. No matter what, I can’t let you stay mad, right?” His tone was gentle, completely different from the Julian at school. 3 I had seen Julian a long time ago. I heard his family was not only rich but powerful. He was always surrounded by friends. When we first started college, I actually had a very brief encounter with him. I was working part-time at a karaoke bar. All kinds of people went there. Someone grabbed me and tried to force me to drink. It was Julian who blocked me, his voice cold: “Bullying a little girl? Are you even a man?” I didn’t expect him to be so humble in front of Bella. Soon, Julian entered the apartment. Bella saw me and said, “You can go back. We don’t need you here.” Then she took Julian’s arm, rested her head on his shoulder, and pointed to the food on the table. “I made all of this. Looks good, right?” I stood there, gently pinching my palm. Actually, I was used to it. In the past two months, Bella made me knit scarves, bake desserts, and write love letters. And in the end, in front of Julian, these all became things she personally did. Julian looked up, his gaze landing on the food. He patted Bella’s hair. “Mm, nice.” At this point, I felt like an eyesore, a very bright lightbulb. “I won’t disturb you two. I’m heading back to school.” Bella couldn’t wait for me to leave. “Mm.” I nodded and walked past them. Halfway to the door, Julian suddenly spoke, stopping me. He said: “Hey, you.” “Wait downstairs. I’ll drive you back.” Bella froze, a bit angry. “What do you mean? Aren’t you staying with me?” Julian coaxed her. “I have something to do. Be good, I’ll take you for seafood tomorrow.” Bella gave Julian a reproachful look, then stood on tiptoes and whispered something in his ear. I wisely went downstairs first. After waiting for about twenty minutes, Julian came down. His collar was slightly open, revealing a small red mark on his neck. A bit ambiguous. I glanced once and looked away. In the car, Julian sent a few more messages to Bella. After sending them, he put down his phone and turned his head, glancing at my wrist. He raised an eyebrow slightly. “I saw it earlier.” “Tell me, what happened?” I froze. He actually noticed. But I couldn’t tell him his girlfriend did it. He wouldn’t believe me, and he wouldn’t stand on my side. Worst case, I’d lose my job. I said, “Nothing, just accidentally scalded myself.” Julian didn’t pry. He sighed. “I’ll take you to the hospital.” Hospitals burn money. With my current financial situation, I couldn’t afford it. I quickly said, “No… no need.” Julian frowned. I waved my hand in front of him. “Really, it doesn’t hurt. No need to go. Let’s just go back to school.” “I still have to buy breakfast for Miss Bella tomorrow.” Bella was picky. She loved soup dumplings from a shop on Jiangning Road and red date porridge from Suian Street. Both places were far from campus. Every morning, I had to wake up at least an hour early to satisfy the princess’s stomach. I heard Julian used to do this himself. Hearing this, Julian narrowed his eyes. After a long while, he said, “Alright then.” Then he took out his phone and tapped on the screen. “I transferred you some money. Buy some ointment.” I looked. $3,000. This injury was so worth it. On the way, Julian’s phone kept ringing. He casually played a few voice messages. The last one was from a man. His voice was low, laced with laughter. “Isn’t your little ancestor’s birthday next month?” “How are you planning to celebrate this year? I’ll help you set it up.” Julian tutted. “Big, of course.” “By the way, I’ll ask Bella to bring her friend. See if there’s anyone you like. Master Xu, you’re twenty-two, time to date.” Soon, we arrived at the school gate. I got out and walked toward the entrance. But after two steps, a voice came from behind. His tone was lazy. “You’ve worked hard these days.” “If you encounter any difficulties in the future, you can tell me directly.” I stopped. I’m twenty this year. To survive, I’ve washed dishes, delivered food, and worked as a hotel receptionist, enduring day after day until I was nearly numb. I’ve seen all kinds of employers, but never one as kind as him. I didn’t turn back. “Okay.” “Thank you.” 4 The next afternoon, I went to the hospital. I paid the fees and chatted with Grandma. Her speech was a bit slurred. But I understood. She was asking, Nina, where did you get the money? How did you afford such an expensive nurse? I said, “Don’t worry, there are lots of kind people. Everyone is helping me.” After that, I received a call from Bella. “Bring me a jacket.” She sent an address. It was a bar. I quickly agreed. When I arrived, I realized Julian was there too. They were sitting together, playing dice. Bella took the jacket and casually said, “Find a place to sit.” I said okay and found a corner. Just then, my counselor sent a message asking me to go to her office. I stood up and walked to Bella, intending to tell her. But before I could speak, everything went pitch black. Power outage. The crowd instantly panicked, and I was pushed and nearly fell. Just then, a hand steadied me firmly. He held my hand and led me out of the crowd. His grip was surprisingly strong. I tried to tell him to let go several times, but it was too loud; he couldn’t hear. I don’t know how long it took before he let go. He pulled me into his arms, squatted down slightly, and rubbed his nose against my forehead. “Scared?” I froze for a moment before finding my voice. “Julian?” At that moment, the lights came back on. The man looked at me, quickly let go, and took a step back. His gaze was obscure. After a long time, he spoke. “Sorry.” “Mistook you for someone else.” I nodded. “It’s okay, I know.” I spent a lot of time with Bella, so my clothes picked up her perfume. Coincidentally, Bella had cut bangs a few days ago. Though she looked much better with them than I did. I quickly left the bar. After that, Bella intentionally showed off her affection in front of me several times. Whatever she wanted, Julian would find a way to bring it to her. She said, “Aren’t we a perfect match?” I nodded. “Yes.” Bella hummed triumphantly. Until once, I came out of the hospital after visiting Grandma and ran into them. Seeing me, Julian instinctively asked, “Visiting your grandma? Is she better?” Bella’s face changed instantly. “You know quite a lot about her.” Julian didn’t catch the tone. “Of course. I have to thoroughly investigate anyone I send to your side.” But that night, Bella coldly demanded to see my chat history with Julian. There was nothing there. Just money transfers and his instructions about Bella. After reading it, she handed the phone back. Time passed slowly. Finally, she spoke. “Nina, delete Julian’s WeChat.” “I’ll explain it to him.” I was silent for a moment, then deleted Julian right in front of her. She looked at me. “That’s right. You two are from different worlds anyway.” Yes. If not for Bella, Julian would never have known my name in this lifetime.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “386276”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

I was taking a walk with my grandma when I spotted a devastatingly handsome guy. Grandma caught my vibe instantly. “You want his number?” I nodded sheepishly. “I want it, but I don’t have the guts.” Grandma told me to wait and marched straight up to him. A few minutes later, my phone rang. A deep, magnetic voice came through the speaker. “Hi, your grandma got lost. Could you come pick her up at the intersection?” “…” 1 It was a lazy weekend afternoon, and I was strolling with Grandma, chatting about nothing in particular. Suddenly, I saw him. He was standing outside a convenience store, smoking. He wore a black shirt with the sleeves rolled up, revealing forearms that looked sculpted by the gods. His profile was sharp, his demeanor effortlessly cool. He looked like a model straight out of a cologne ad. I stared so hard I almost tripped over my own feet. “Lily, what’s wrong?” Grandma steadied me. “Nothing, nothing,” I mumbled, too embarrassed to admit I was ogling a stranger. Grandma knows me too well. She didn’t buy it. She followed my gaze and landed on the guy. “Oh~ I get it,” she said, a mischievous grin spreading across her face. “You want his number, don’t you?” I shook my head violently, then nodded pathetically. “I do, but I’m too scared.” Grandma scoffed. “Coward. Wait here. Grandma’s got this.” Before I could stop her, she was already shuffling toward him. I froze. Grandma, please don’t just ask for his number. That would be mortifying. 2 I watched as Grandma approached him. The guy noticed her immediately. He put out his cigarette and straightened up, his lazy demeanor shifting to something respectful. He seemed to be asking if she needed help. Grandma said something to him. He looked surprised for a second, then nodded. He pulled out his phone and started typing. I stood there, sweating from secondhand embarrassment. Thirty seconds later, my phone rang. An unknown number. I answered hesitantly. “Hello? Is this Lily? Your grandma seems to have lost her way,” a voice said. It was deep, smooth, and incredibly attractive. “Could you come pick her up?” “…” I gripped my phone, stammering, “Yes… yes, of course.” He chuckled softly. “Great. Meet us at the intersection of Main and 4th.” “Okay, I’m nearby. I’ll be right there.” I hung up, my heart pounding. Grandma, you are a genius. Claiming to be lost? It was brilliant. Efficient and deniable. I saved the number immediately, fixed my hair, smoothed my dress, and walked toward the intersection. Under the shade of a large oak tree, my crush was standing with one hand in his pocket, holding my grandma’s hand with the other. Grandma looked like a kid who just stole a cookie jar. “Grandma!” I called out. Grandma winked at me, then turned to the guy with an innocent face. “Ethan, my granddaughter is here.” I stopped in front of them. Up close, he was even more devastatingly handsome. My face burned. He extended a hand, smiling lazily. “Hi, I’m Ethan.” Even his name was hot. “I’m Lily,” I said, shaking his hand. His palm was warm and dry, his grip firm. “Thank you for helping my grandma.” “No problem.” Grandma clapped her hands. “Oh, Ethan, I don’t know what I would have done without you. I wanted to treat you to dinner as a thank you, but you said you were busy. Such a shame.” Ethan looked at me, his eyes twinkling. “Actually, Grandma,” he drawled, “I think my schedule just cleared up.” 3 Fifteen minutes later, the three of us were sitting in a private booth at a nice restaurant. Ethan excused himself to wash his hands. Watching his back as he walked away, I sighed internally. So handsome. Just then, a greasy, familiar voice drifted from the next table. “Lily!” I turned. It was my former boss, Frank. He was smiling, but it looked like a layer of oil floating on water. “What a coincidence,” he said, walking over. His eyes gleamed unpleasantly. “I’ve been calling you since you quit. Why didn’t you answer? I asked everyone where you went, but no one knew. I even went to your old apartment, but the neighbors said you moved. Why are you hiding from me?” I ignored him, staring at the menu. Grandma’s face hardened. Frank had harassed me relentlessly at my old job. He even threatened Grandma when she tried to intervene. I quit the moment he went on a business trip. I didn’t think he’d still be stalking me. “I wasn’t trying to touch your leg that night,” Frank continued, his voice dripping with fake sincerity. “I was just drunk. You overreacted. Lily, why aren’t you talking? Still mad?” He stepped closer, reaching out to put a hand on my shoulder. Just as I was about to stand up and kick him, a bottle of ice-cold soda flew through the air and smashed into his hand. “Argh!” Frank screamed, clutching his hand. His face turned purple. “Who did that?!” Ethan stood in front of me, rolling up his sleeves. His voice was calm and cold. “Your daddy.” 4 Frank pointed a trembling finger at him. “You dare hit me? Do you know who I am?” Ethan looked unimpressed. “Don’t care. Just know you need a beating.” “I work for the Far East Group! The richest family in the city! You better watch your back, kid.” Ethan paused, then let out a scoff. “Hey, buddy. Come here. Let me whisper something to you. I promise I won’t hit you.” Frank leaned in suspiciously. Ethan whispered something in his ear. Frank’s face drained of all color. He stumbled back, staring at Ethan with wide, terrified eyes. His arrogance vanished instantly. I could see his legs shaking. “You… you…” Ethan raised an eyebrow, looking bored. “Shut up. And get lost.” Frank scrambled away like his life depended on it. Ethan sat down calmly. “Thanks,” I said, still stunned. “Don’t mention it.” Grandma handed him the menu, her eyes misty. “Ethan, order whatever you want. Thank goodness we met you today.” Ethan smiled at me. “It’s fine. He won’t bother you again. Lily, what do you like to eat?” The sudden shift in topic threw me. “Uh, sweet and sour ribs, spicy pork… why?” “Just asking,” he said softly. He checked off both dishes on the menu. I scratched my cheek, feeling shy but curious. “Ethan, what did you say to him? He looked like he saw a ghost.” Ethan grinned mischievously. “I told him I saw him in one of Red’s VIP videos. Holding a gallon of cooking oil. Told him if he didn’t want to be famous on the internet, he should behave.” “…” I was shocked. What a disgusting man Frank was. Thank god I quit.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “386275”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

After a year of trash-talking my gaming nemesis online, we agreed to meet up for a duel. But as soon as I got there, I was stood up. [Can’t make it today. Saw my dream girl. Rain check.] Before I could even type out a curse, someone spoke to me: “Hey, what a coincidence running into you here.” 1 My fingers, poised to type a string of expletives, froze. I looked around. A handsome guy with slightly red ears was talking to me. “Fate must be bringing us together,” he said, looking awkwardly shy. I blinked, confused. “Do we know each other?” His face turned bright red. He coughed awkwardly and stuttered, “I-I’m Liam, from Physics 101. We were paired up for that lab freshman year? And… and we volunteered together at the sophomore carnival…” “Last Friday, 6:30 PM, dining hall, line A. I let you have the last chicken leg.” He rambled on. The chicken leg part sounded vaguely familiar, but barely. “Oh. Thanks,” I replied, distracted. “You’re… you’re… welcome,” Liam stammered, getting worse. I didn’t have time for this. I was scanning the crowd for the dog who dared to stand me up. I was going to find him and beat him up. 6’2″, black hoodie, jeans, earring in the left ear. Where was he? I scanned the area but came up empty. “Are you looking for someone? My vision is 20/20 in my left eye, 20/15 in my right. Maybe I can help?” The stranger was back, eager to assist. I took a step back, instinctively rejecting him. “No need—” Wait. I hadn’t looked closely before. Why did this guy named Liam look so familiar? He matched my nemesis’s description perfectly! I hesitated, then probed, “What brings you here today?” “Some noob… I mean, a new player thought I was hacking because I’m too good, so they challenged me to a duel.” He almost said “noob.” I caught it. “Where is she then?” I asked. “Don’t know. Probably saw me and ran away in shame.” “…” That familiar arrogance. I was basically certain. The guy I’d been flaming online for a year was standing right in front of me. I’d never met anyone with a more toxic mouth. “Can I add you on WeChat?” I needed to be absolutely sure. “Me…?” The surprise hit him like a truck. Liam froze. I had to call his name a few times to snap him out of it. “Yes! Yes! Absolutely!” He whipped out his phone, fumbling with the app because his hands were shaking. Ding. Added. I saw the familiar avatar and username. It really was him. I sneered internally. 2 My feud with Liam started a year ago. I suck at games. Usually, I play against bots. But the moment I tried a real match, I got thrown into a high-ranked lobby. After feeding the enemy team 17 kills, a player named [X] finally turned on his mic. “Archer, just stay in the fountain.” I thought he was being nice, telling me to stay safe. Then he continued. “Don’t get killed by the minions.” “Archer, are you playing with your feet?” “Archer, stop farming steps on the map.” “Archer…” I knew I sucked, so I stayed quiet. But after the game, [X] sent a friend request. Message: [First time seeing a bot with personality. Thanks for the free win for the other team.] Maximum emotional damage. High insult level. I accepted. Everyone makes mistakes. When he called me trash, I waited for him to slip up and flamed him back. “Wow, Mr. Pro Gamer died? I thought you were immortal.” “So generous, giving the blue buff to the enemy.” “Why aren’t you taking the dragon? Do you not feel like it?” “Oops, the ‘God’ died again…” Later, typing wasn’t enough. I made a smurf account just to troll him. At first, we had some semblance of manners. Now, the first thing we do every morning is insult each other’s ancestors. It was a complete disconnect. The guy in front of me, whose voice was so soft it was practically squeaking, was the same person who called me an idiot daily. If he hadn’t pitched his voice up, I might have recognized him sooner. Thinking about his excuse for standing me up… I realized something. The “dream girl” he mentioned… seemed to be me. I didn’t rush to reveal myself. This was too good of an opportunity to pass up. 3 “You sit here and rest. Tell me what he’s wearing, I’ll go find him right now,” Liam said, eyes burning with determination. He really wanted to impress me. “No need.” I made my eyes red and wiped away imaginary tears. Liam panicked. He frantically offered me tissues, confused by my sudden sadness. “What’s wrong?” I put on my best victim voice, choking back a sob. “The person I was supposed to meet isn’t coming.” “What?!” Liam was furious. More angry than I was. “Who dares to stand you up? Tell me who it is, I’ll teach him a lesson!” It’s you, idiot. I suppressed a smirk and looked pitiful. “I’m sure he didn’t mean to. He must have had an emergency…” Hearing me defend the “other guy,” Liam got even madder. He looked like he wanted to murder his imaginary rival. “Emergency my ass. Probably rushing to jump off a cliff.” Calling himself a dog. I wished I could record this and play it back to him later. Feeling better, I plotted my next move. “What game were you talking about earlier? I’m bored, can you teach me?” I pulled out my phone and asked softly. “Huh?” The righteous hero looked blank. “I said, can you teach me how to play?” I secretly deleted the game app and opened the app store, asking again. 4 Liam was a top-tier player. Multiple server titles. He was like a math genius who couldn’t comprehend why someone couldn’t solve 1+1. I was waiting for him to snap, to reveal his toxic nature and shatter his “dream girl” image of me. Hehe. But… I seemed to be wrong. My shallow understanding of humanity didn’t prepare me for this level of double standards. I died to a minion at the start. Liam laughed. Not a mocking laugh. A doting one. Like dying to a minion was the cutest thing in the world. It was terrifying. I got goosebumps. If this were my smurf account, Liam would have already asked if my brain was fully developed. I didn’t give up. I bought random items. I remembered once I lost a bet to him, and he made me write out item descriptions fifty times. He wouldn’t be able to hold it in. He’d curse. “Wow, you learned how to buy items already! Smartest beginner I’ve ever seen,” Liam praised, looking genuinely proud. I was stunned. Bro, are your eyes open? Can’t you see I bought six mana crystals? I took deep breaths, forcing back the urge to curse his ancestors. I didn’t push towers; I ran around the map. He said: “Great mobility.” My team started a team fight; I farmed jungle camps. He said: “So smart, avoiding the crowd.” I… I was defeated. For the first time in twenty years, I felt like a masochist. I desperately wanted Liam to yell at me. The meaner the better. No, this was too gross. If I stayed any longer, I’d suffocate. “My mom’s calling me for dinner. Rain check!” I practically jumped out of my seat and fled. It was a polite dismissal, but Liam took it literally. “When? I’m free tomorrow! And the day after! I’m free 365 days a year!” He shouted it so I wouldn’t miss it. People stared. So embarrassing.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “386274”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

My snake has been acting weird lately. She’s always sneaking around, trying to steal my iPad, nearly bashing her own head in several times. Curious, I unlocked the iPad, casually left it next to her enclosure, and set up a high-def camera. The next morning, I shot up in bed— She has a “SnekBook” account! I watched my snake painstakingly tap the screen with the tip of her tail, typing: [My owner keeps saying I feel rough and prickly. How do I tell her the heating pad is shocking me?] Attached was a selfie.jpg I refreshed the page, and hundreds of comments popped up. Other snakes were roasting her: “Where did a basic Rat Snake like you get an owner? And a heating pad? You can lie to the homies, but don’t lie to yourself.” The next day, I peeked at her cautiously. She was curled up in a dark corner, sulking. So angry she went mute. 1 After my brother died in a car accident, I was left alone in the house. I often visited his and our parents’ graves. One day, on the way there, I accidentally stepped on what I thought was a thick garden hose. I looked down. It was a snake! I almost died of fright! Instinctively, I grabbed a stick nearby, terrified it would bite me. But the snake just looked at me, flattened itself, and slithered away. ? That night, I had a dream. I dreamed that snakes have their own social media called SnekBook. The snake I stepped on went home and posted about me, trying to shame me. But instead, all the other snakes roasted her. [If you didn’t bite, don’t post. You’re embarrassing us.] [Don’t push coward content to my feed.] [Certified wimp. My venom glands hurt just reading this.] They even added her to a group called “Useless Losers” for periodic check-ins. The snake fainted from anger. I woke up laughing. I used to be terrified of snakes, but now, the little thing seemed kinda cute? But when I opened my front door, there she was! The snake, looking dusty and disheveled. She had tied herself into a loop and hung herself on my door handle, like she was trying to prove she wasn’t a coward by “hanging herself on the southeast branch.” I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. I tried to get her down carefully, but the poor thing was terrified. Trying to intimidate me, she bit her own tail tip. Hard. Snap. Bone fracture. Me: “…” The snake hissed at me righteously—showing me her tail. ? Excuse me? I stepped on you, so you bite yourself, and now I’m responsible? Is this fair? But if I hadn’t stepped on her, she wouldn’t have come all this way to hang herself on my door. I was conflicted. It’s a snake! What if she bites me? Just then, an AC repairman walked by. He saw the snake and his eyes lit up! “A Rat Snake! Perfect for snake soup!” The snake froze, tail stop shaking. I froze too. Seeing him reach for the snake, I panicked. “Sir! That snake is venomous! It bites!” The repairman didn’t care. “Nah, it’s just a Rat Snake. Non-venomous.” Seeing the snake about to meet its maker, I made a split-second decision. I took off my jacket, grabbed the snake, stuffed her into a bubble tea bag, and threw her into my apartment. “That’s my pet!” The repairman walked away, cursing. “Should have said so! Wasting my time!” … I closed the door and stared at the bag on the floor. The bag moved. A small head poked out, staring at me in terror. What do I do now? I took photos, looked up the species, searched “how to raise a snake” on Reddit, and found the nearest exotic pet vet. Terrified, I used chopsticks to poke her head back in and rushed to the vet. Well, she’s here now. Gotta be responsible. … At the hospital, I asked the vet cautiously. “Cats and dogs wear cones so they don’t lick their wounds. Do snakes need that?” The vet, experienced and calm, asked back: “Look at her. Where would you hang it?” I sheepishly let go of the leash I was looking at. The bill came. Four figures. Damn! Exotic vets are highway robbery! Half a day later, I returned home, eyes dead, carrying a pile of supplies, a bag of pinky mice, and a vivarium. If this was the snake’s revenge… She succeeded. That night, the snake proved she wasn’t useless. I was sleeping when I heard rustling in the living room. Groggily, I opened my eyes just as a gray shadow darted over me. I screamed like a banshee. But then! The snake easily headbutted open the “escape-proof” lid I paid a fortune for and chased the shadow like lightning! After catching the mouse, she paraded around the apartment like a conquering general. Finally, she dropped the dead mouse in front of me—plop—and hissed triumphantly. I stared at her with dead eyes, then at the expensive “escape-proof” tank. My sky collapsed. 2 I realized this snake was weird. She was interested in my iPad and phone? Whenever I lay on the couch scrolling, a small head would peek out nearby, peeping. Several times, I found my phone in camera mode with two tiny puncture marks on the screen protector. The gallery was full of extreme close-up snake selfies. Who was the culprit? A mystery. Especially after I fell asleep, she would sneakily try to steal my iPad, nearly smashing her own head in the process. Curious about what she wanted, I unlocked the iPad, “accidentally” left it by her tank, and set up a camera. In the middle of the night, the snake squeezed out of the glass gap, flattened herself, and expertly woke the iPad screen with her tail tip. Then I sat up in bed— She has a SnekBook account! I watched her tap the screen with her tail, typing: [My owner keeps saying I feel rough and prickly. How do I tell her the heating pad is shocking me?] Attached: Selfie.jpg I refreshed. Hundreds of comments roasting her. “Where did a basic Rat Snake get an owner? And a heating pad? Stop lying to yourself.” The next day, I checked on her. She was curled in a dark corner, a ball of misery. Autistic from anger. 3 I was too curious. While the Rat Snake slept, I secretly opened her SnekBook. Her profile pic was a selfie. Clearly taken by holding the phone in her mouth. Extreme close-up. Scrolling up, I actually found the post about her being stepped on! So my dream wasn’t a dream! This snake loved to overshare. But. Every. Single. Post. Was added to the “Loser” group by other snakes. Including but not limited to: [A human came while I was eating! I ate as fast as I could while vibrating my tail to scare them off!] I made the “grandpa looking at phone” face—shouldn’t a scared snake regurgitate and run??? But reading further, I couldn’t laugh anymore. Hit by a kid with a rock, head bleeding. Chased by a cat. Coming to find me was the first time she summoned courage… she even made a flower wreath. And bit her own tail. … I scrolled up, my heart aching. Snakes have a hard life in the city. Except for a few exotic pet owners, most people either scream or throw rocks. Honestly, even venomous snakes are terrified of people. They only bite as a last resort, thinking, I’m dying anyway, taking you with me. Humans are giants to them. They’re scared to death; why would they attack? I looked at the snake sleeping belly-up next to me. Whatever. Extra frozen mouse for the kid today. Just then, a DM notification popped up on her SnekBook. She didn’t wake up, just scratched her head with her tail tip and rolled over. Respecting her privacy, I quietly put the iPad back. But when I came back from a job interview, the snake was gone!!! 4 I panicked, tearing the house apart. I even unpacked my winter clothes, thinking she burrowed in there. Nothing. She can’t bark, so calling her was useless! I was desperate! Then I remembered the pet cam. I checked it, and my world collapsed again. She went out! This is Guangdong. If she goes out, she’s soup!!! Wait— I remembered the SnekBook on the iPad. I logged in and checked the DMs. She was invited out by another snake. The other snake’s profile pic was a cute, Extreme Red Albino Hognose. High EQ: “Chubby baby, so expensive!” Low EQ: “Wiggles like a fancy maggot.” Both species are known for low IQ and tail-biting. No wonder they’re friends! The Hognose was polite: “Hello Snake. I saw your post about being stepped on via ‘Nearby Snakes.’ Do you have wilderness survival experience? I only know how to escape my tank. My owner fainted. Can you tell me how to get out? I want to find help.” My Rat Snake, Cola (I named her!), was enthusiastic. “Sure! Where do you live?” “I’ll teach you how to open the door hiss hiss—” ? The address the Hognose gave… holy crap, it’s the apartment above mine. Unit 3102. I rushed out. Never mind how a snake reaches the elevator button. Did they think about this? One costs $2,000, the other costs the price of a vegetable dish. If they go out together, the Hognose’s owner might post a reward. But Cola? Am I supposed to fish her out of someone’s soup pot?! Time was critical! The elevator dinged. I rushed out and met Cola, who had slithered up the stairs, panting. …Okay then. Seeing me, Cola froze. Behind me, the door to 3102 clicked open. A flat, red-and-white head poked out. Seeing me, the Hognose stiffened. Tongue flick, belly up, play dead. Oscar-worthy performance. I looked at Cola, Cola looked at me. Just as she prepared to bolt, the Hognose’s concern for its owner overrode its instinct. It cried and crawled over. “…Hiss hiss hiss hiss.” ? Don’t understand. Need SnekBook. But Cola understood. She looked at me pitifully. The Hognose overcame its fear, crawling over, playing dead every other step. …Honestly, the wiggling really looked like a big-headed maggot. My morals and my sense of humor fought a fierce battle. Morals won. I held it in. I followed the Hognose inside. A young man was lying on the floor. I peeked. Whoa, handsome. But no time to admire. I checked his breathing—he was alive. I didn’t dare move him, so I called 911. While waiting for the ambulance, the Hognose was anxious. It stared at me, afraid I’d leave. The room was a mess. Spilled water cup, knocked over terrarium… The little guy really tried hard to make noise. Unlike Cola, he was short and fat. Who knows how much effort it took to contact help. I felt a pang of sympathy. Good baby! Until I saw him skillfully wiggle onto an iPad and unlock it with his belly pattern. Never mind.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “386273”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

I am a voice mimicry streamer. I can imitate any voice, and I charge ten dollars an hour. I’ve had clients who just went through a breakup pay me to mimic their ex’s voice, begging for forgiveness. I’ve had clients pay me to mimic their boss, calling them “Big Brother” just to stroke their ego. Of course, there are plenty of people who look at me through a dirty lens—including my own mother. She says using my voice to make money is “seductive” and “shameful.” Just as I was about to explain myself for the thousandth time, a new order popped up: “Streamer Cloud, can you mimic the voice of a dead person?” “Of course,” I typed back. “As long as I can hear a sample, I can mimic anyone—even your great-grandmother.” I didn’t know it then, but that single order would change the trajectory of my entire life. 1 I’ve always had a knack for mimicry. It started with frogs when I was a kid, and as I grew up, it became uncanny. Men, women, children, the elderly—if I heard it once, I could replicate it. After getting laid off last month, I decided to try my hand at being a voice mimicry streamer. Ten bucks an hour. I become whoever you need me to be. Naturally, aside from the paying customers, there’s the peanut gallery in the comments section. They leave filthy, suggestive remarks: “Ten bucks just to hear a voice? I’d rather add fifty and get a ‘happy ending’ downtown.” “Streamer, if I pay extra, can I get the ‘special menu’?” I rolled my eyes and typed a reply: “I’m really curious about your upbringing. Why does everyone you meet look like a sex worker to you? Is it because you’ve never experienced a genuine interaction, or are you just proud of being trash?” After I posted that, the dogpile got worse. “She’s just making money by acting cute and moaning. Stop pretending to be high and mighty.” To keep the chat clean for actual customers, I usually just delete, block, and move on. It saves my sanity. My mom, sitting next to me cracking sunflower seeds, leaned over and sneered. “I told you not to embarrass yourself. If the relatives see this, I won’t even have the face to visit them for New Year’s.” I just wanted to make money using my talent, but I was constantly being twisted into something I wasn’t. My bio clearly read: [ID: Cloud. Voice Mimic. I can vent anger, I can listen. ZERO tolerance for sexual content.] When did my mom start believing that a girl with a nice voice must be doing something dirty? Probably a few years ago, when I got an opportunity to do dubbing for a TV drama. My mom saw my facial expressions while I was recording—the way I had to contort my face to get the right emotion—and she called me “mentally ill” and “slutty.” She said I should get a “real job” instead of doing this “westernized nonsense.” She showed up at the recording studio every day to make a scene until I was forced to quit and find a boring office job. I thought that would bring peace. But this year, on New Year’s Day—my birthday—I volunteered to work overtime just to avoid hearing her say, “I suffered so much giving birth to you.” My mom stormed into my office, screaming that my boss was a bloodsucker. Result? I was “advised to resign” again. She thought she was standing up for me. She called me a coward. It wasn’t until the neighbors told her she was out of line that she backed off a little. I told her I’d look for a job after the holidays, and in the meantime, I’d use my voice to make some cash from home. She agreed at the time. But now, she was pouring cold water on me right when I was trying to build confidence, stomping on me while strangers misunderstood my profession. Her expression screamed: See? I told you this kind of work isn’t decent. I sighed, deleting another nasty comment. Suddenly, a new order came in. “Streamer, can you mimic the voice of a dead person?” Business is business. I sat up straight. “As long as there’s audio, I can mimic anyone.” The user, ID “Sarah,” quickly DM’d me a ten-minute screen recording. “Hi Cloud. I’m Sarah. Can you mimic my mother’s voice?” I opened the recording. It was a long scroll of a chat history. Sarah’s mom had sent her hundreds of 60-second voice notes. Every single one of them had a red dot next to it. Unread. Sarah had never clicked on them. She had never replied. “Look at this heartless thing,” my mom muttered, peeking at my screen again. “Her mother sends her so many messages and she doesn’t even reply!” I stood up abruptly, hiding the phone behind my back. I’ve told her a million times to respect my privacy. She always counters with, “I raised you, I’ve seen every inch of you, what privacy do you need?” But I knew arguing would just be added to her ledger of my sins to be brought up later. “I have an order. I need to work. Please leave,” I whispered. Mom grumbled something and walked out. I locked the door and opened the chat window. I mimicked the tone of the voice in the video and sent a message: “Sarah, I listened to the sample. How do you need me to cooperate?” She was satisfied with the voice match and gave me a specific request: “Streamer, I want you to reply to my messages without being a buzzkill. Be the mom who doesn’t ruin the moment.” I paused. I thought Sarah’s mom had passed away and she wanted closure, a final conversation. I didn’t expect her request to just be… a supportive mother. Following the “customer is god” principle, I didn’t pry. After receiving the payment, Sarah sent me an old photo to use as my avatar. It was a woman in a red wool coat holding a little girl with pigtails, sitting on the grass. Setup complete. Timer started. [Scenario: Childhood Sarah] Sarah sent the first message: “Mom, I accidentally broke an egg. I’m sorry.” 2 She followed it with a blurry, pixelated photo of a broken egg on the floor. I typed: [Patting your head] Then I held down the voice note button: “Sarah, you’re amazing! You smashed the egg into the shape of a little duck! That’s so cute!” She replied instantly: “Mom, you’re the best!” “But I only got a 95 on my test this time. Next time I’ll check my work better.” I replied: “Sarah, you got a 95? When I was your age, I was lucky to pass! Come on, let’s go get hot pot to celebrate!” Sarah sent a laughing emoji. “Mom, I got the 95, why do I have to accompany YOU to eat hot pot? Humph, shouldn’t you ask what I want to eat?” “Right, right! What does my Sarah want to eat? Mom will take you!” Sarah sent a thoughtful emoji. “Okay, let’s do hot pot! But I want a bubble tea, too.” “Deal! I want bubble tea too! Cheers!” Sarah sent a string of happy emojis, then switched the scenario. [Scenario: College Sarah] “Mom, I got a part-time job at a milk tea shop over the break. It feels like playing house when customers order, but I’m actually making money.” I laughed into the mic: “I want to drink milk tea made by Sarah too!” “I’ll bring you a cup I made myself after work!” [Scenario: Working Sarah] “Mom, I just finished a huge high-pressure project. Since the holidays are coming up, let’s go on a trip together?” “Let’s go! Mom will pack the bags, you book the tickets! We leave tonight!” Sarah was switching scenarios faster and faster. I thought she was about to send another one, but instead, she sent a sighing emoji. “Cloud… thank you. But forget it. Let’s stop here.” It had only been twenty minutes. I offered to refund half the money, but she refused. She sounded disappointed. “Sarah, are you unsatisfied with my replies?” “No, I’m very satisfied.” Before I could ask more, she continued: “Cloud, your replies were perfect. You were the mother I fantasized about. It just… it felt too unrealistic.” “Because in real life, every time I shared joy with my mother, it turned into misery. Every time I shared a problem, she made it a catastrophe.” “When I sent you that screen recording… just hearing her voice in the preview made me feel like I was having a breakdown. I felt panic.” “But she’s dead. And I cry about it. I love her, but I hate her. I don’t know what to do.” Sarah’s voice trembled. It sounded painful. I typed: “Is there anything I can do to help?” “No. Today is the anniversary of her death. I’m tired. I want to rest. I’ll contact you if I need you.” I quickly replied: “Okay. Take care.” I usually turn my successful orders into promotional videos (with permission). I posted Sarah’s video. Surprisingly, I got three more orders immediately. All people wanting to “talk” to deceased relatives. To say the things they never got to say. I worked until late at night. I had done eight orders that day. Compared to the three I did all last month, things were looking up. I felt like I was doing something good—helping people find closure. Just as I was about to sleep, my phone pinged. A voice note from Sarah. “Mom, do you know why I only ever listened to the very end of your sixty-second voice notes? Hahaha!” 3 Her voice was slurred. She was drunk. Heavily drunk. “Do you want to know, Mom?” I was exhausted, but to make up for the time she didn’t use earlier, I cleared my throat and replied in her mother’s voice: “I want to know. Can you tell Mom, Sarah?” Her voice was raspy. “Because I was afraid you had an emergency, but I was also afraid you didn’t. So I only listened to the last sentence.” “Mom, when I broke an egg, you beat me.” “But when you were making breakfast and YOU broke an egg, why did you scream at me? Why did you call me a lazy parasite?” “I was six years old, Mom. If you didn’t want to cook, you could have taught me.” “I got a 95 on the test. First in the class. I just wanted a bag of chips.” “You poked my temple so hard it bruised. You asked me why I didn’t check my work. Why I handed it in early.” “But Mom, I checked it three times. I didn’t know why I got that one wrong.” “In college, I worked at the milk tea shop to help with your bills. I wanted to share my excitement about my first paycheck.” “You told me if I didn’t study, I’d be selling milk tea for the rest of my life. But my grades were good! I got into a top university! Why couldn’t you just praise me?” Listening to Sarah’s crying and shouting, my mouth hung open, unable to speak. Because my mother was exactly the same. I didn’t know how to comfort her. She continued: “Mom, you always said Auntie Wang’s daughter took her on trips, and you were so envious.” “Even though work was killing me, I wanted to take you on a trip for the holidays.” “But you refused. You said you were used to a hard life, unlike me, who ‘spends money like water’ just to play.” “My friends invited me to a nearby city for two days. You mocked me, saying, ‘Two days isn’t enough! Why don’t you go for ten? Maybe you’ll lose your job while you’re at it!’” “You knew I never went anywhere except for work trips. Why did you say I was always playing?” “If I argued, you cried! You said I grew up and my tongue got sharp.” “If I stayed silent, you asked if I was mute!” Sarah was screaming now, questioning the “me” on the other end. “Mom, when Dad got sick, I was studying for my entrance exams for grad school.” “You sent me dozens of voice notes a day, crying that Dad was dying, that he was in pain.” “Every time I rushed to the hospital, you screamed at me for not studying. You asked what I was doing there wasting time.” “But when I stayed home to study, you called me heartless. You said I didn’t care that my father was sick.” “You seemed to forget I was taking exams when I was at the hospital, but remembered it the moment I was actually studying.” “Later, I listened to you. I focused on the exams.” “That was when I started skipping your messages. I only listened to the first few seconds to make sure it wasn’t an emergency.” “On the day of the exam, you stormed the test center. You screamed at me in front of everyone for not replying, for not seeing Dad one last time.” “That’s how I found out he was gone. I failed the exam. I never tried again.” “Mom, why did you always hide the important information in the middle of your rants? Why did you have to send sixty-second voice notes for something that took one sentence to say?” “I wanted to see Dad one last time too…” “From that day on, whenever relatives praised me, you’d add, ‘What’s the use? She couldn’t even pass her grad school exams.’” Sarah broke down into uncontrollable sobbing. I waited a long time for her cries to subside. I mimicked her mother’s voice: “Sarah, don’t cry. Mom was wrong. It’s all in the past.” But she didn’t seem to hear me. She spoke to herself. “I’m so tired. I don’t want to keep going.” I felt a chill. I sat up in bed immediately. “Sarah, listen to me. You got into a great university. You worked hard to earn money. You are amazing.” She screamed: “Shut up! I won’t listen!” “I’m terrified to make friends! I’m terrified to date!” “Because you always belittle me in front of them until I feel like I’m nothing!” “When friends leave me, when boyfriends dump me, you tell me it’s because I’m useless. You say, ‘No wonder nobody wants you.’” “If I die, will your voice finally stop echoing in my ears? Will the nightmares stop?” “Yes. That must be it. That must be the only way!” Sarah sounded like she was losing control. While I tried to comfort her, I clicked on her profile. She was in the same city. The location tag on her previous videos was only a twenty-minute drive away. To keep her on the line, I didn’t hang up. I quietly texted the police on my other phone. The police replied they were tracing her location and told me to keep her talking. But my family was just like hers. How could I comfort her? I listened intently. Her voice was breaking up. Signal interference. I turned the volume all the way up. I heard the sound of water lapping. And the wind. It was getting louder. She was at the river! I texted the info to the police. I grabbed a coat and headed for the door. The noise woke my mom. She blocked the doorway. “Where are you going in the middle of the night?” I muted the call and whispered urgently, “I have to save someone! Someone is jumping into the river!” Mom shoved me back inside. “You aren’t going anywhere! What if she dies and they blame you? What if you get sued?” 4 I stomped my foot. “Mom! I called the police! No one is going to sue me!” “If you called the police, why do you need to go? Get back in your room!” Why did I need to go? Because I wanted to see Sarah. I wanted to hug her. I felt like Sarah was me. She was doing the thing I had always wanted to do but never dared. I’m in my twenties, and I have no friends, no lover. Even now, I have a curfew of 9 PM. Mom glared at me. I threw her hand off and bolted out the door. Behind me, she screamed, “You’re so loose! Running around at night! No man will ever want you!” I covered my ears and sprinted out of the complex. Only when I was on the street did I lift the phone again. Thank god. The call was still connected. Sarah was mumbling, unaware of what was happening on my end. I unmuted and steadied my breathing. I switched back to her mother’s voice. “Sarah, it was Mom who didn’t understand you. I suppressed you. It was my fault!” “But you are wonderful. You graduated. You worked hard to help me. You took me traveling.” “Mom is so happy! Sarah, will you make Mom a milk tea tomorrow? I really want to drink it.” Sarah laughed lazily. “Mom, stop acting. You aren’t like this… you would never talk like this…” “Before you died, you handed me a bank card with seventeen thousand dollars on it. You told me you couldn’t see me get married.” “You said you saved it your whole life, scrimping and saving. You knew you were sick but didn’t dare say anything because you were afraid of spending the money. Afraid I would spend money to cure you.” “You said it was my dowry. You told me to find a good man.” “You told me to be diligent at my in-laws’, to do more housework, to be sweet so my mother-in-law would like me.” “The day you died, I cried and begged you to stop talking.” “When I took my life savings to the doctor and begged him to save you, he told me, ‘Now you worry about your mom? It’s too late.’” “Mom, I’m sorry. I know you loved me in your own way. But these words… they hurt so much.” “Today is the anniversary. I miss you.” “I miss when I was in kindergarten and you held me. Back then, you praised me. You rarely badmouthed the neighbors.” “But when I tried to listen to your old voice messages… I broke down again.” “That familiar voice brought it all back.” “You cursed me under the guise of caring.” “You told me to rest, or my eyes would go blind from the computer.” “But on my days off, you woke me up at dawn. If I didn’t get up, you called me a corpse.” Sarah was gasping for air, sobbing violently. Suffocation gripped my heart as I listened.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “386272”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

Even after the real daughter returned, my adoptive parents still favored me. When it came to choosing bedrooms, the real daughter merely glanced at my princess-themed room with curiosity. Mom frowned instantly. “That’s Paige’s room. She’s lived there for eighteen years. You can’t take it from her. Pick any other room on the second floor.” At dinner, the table was piled high with my favorite dishes. Dad, Mom, and my brother kept comforting me. “Paige, you will always be our precious baby girl.” They even wanted to transfer 20% of the company shares to me. The real daughter’s eyes reddened on the spot. “If you don’t like me, why did you bring me back?” 1 When Sarah, the real daughter of the Lawson family, started crying out of frustration, I was frantically trying to communicate with Mom using sign language. I wanted to tell her: I’m not important. You guys should take care of your biological daughter first. But I had only lost my voice two days ago, and my sign language was completely made up. Mom watched my chaotic gestures, confused, until a lightbulb seemed to go off. “Paige, calm down. Don’t worry, you will always be our most precious daughter.” Most precious? Then what about Sarah? My mouth twitched, and I gave Mom a speechless thumbs-up. Wow, great way with words, Mom. Sure enough, Sarah looked like she was about to crumble. But my parents’ eyes were habitually fixed on me. “Paige, Dad knows you must feel insecure now that Sarah is back. I’m going to transfer 20% of the company shares to you right now so you can feel safe!” No! I don’t want shares! I want you to look at your biological daughter! She looks like she’s about to shatter! Seeing the despair in Sarah’s eyes, I clutched my throat, rolling my eyes in panic. Good God. Why did I have to get my tonsils and adenoids removed right now? “N… no… ugh… hurts…” My throat felt like it was on fire. Every syllable was like swallowing glass. Seeing me struggle, my parents panicked. “Paige, don’t talk! We understand!” You understand nothing… Looking at Sarah’s increasingly pale face, I felt terrible. I rushed away from the table, sprinted up to my room on the second floor, grabbed my writing tablet, and hurried back down. As soon as I reached the bottom of the stairs, I heard my brother, Lucas, yelling at Sarah. “You just have to compete with Paige, don’t you? She’s crying now. Are you happy?” Sarah screamed back. “Happy about what?” She stood up, scanning the faces of her parents and brother, and let out a cold laugh. “I haven’t said a single word since I got here, and you accuse me of competing with her. I don’t even have the right to speak in this house. What do I have to compete with? How dare I compete with her?” I felt like the most desperate person in the room should be me. I quickly scribbled a paragraph on my tablet and shoved it in front of everyone. [I wasn’t crying. My throat hurts too much to talk, so I went upstairs to get this tablet.] Then, I pointed at the table full of food—abalone, king crab, lobster, and my favorite, spicy stir-fried intestines. I wrote furiously, my face serious. [Even though these are my favorites, I can’t eat any of them right now. So you actually prepared these for Sarah. Why didn’t you tell her? Why did Mom keep putting food on my plate?] Mom smiled sheepishly. “Sarah just got back, and we didn’t know what she liked, so we had the chef cook your favorites. We were afraid you’d get upset and have an episode, so we served you first…” I rolled my eyes and kept writing. [If you don’t know what she likes, you can ASK her! I stole eighteen years of her wealthy life. What logic is there in ignoring her to comfort me and revolving everything around me?] Seeing how serious I was, the room fell silent. Dad pulled out his phone, looking awkward. “In those ‘Real vs. Fake Daughter’ novels, doesn’t the fake daughter usually throw a fit and become the villain? Plus, with your condition, we thought…” I facepalmed. Dad… please delete TikTok immediately. Mom held my arm, looking at me with heartache. “We were just so afraid you’d do something extreme! I raised you for eighteen years. You’re no different from my own flesh and blood. I couldn’t bear to lose you.” Lucas laughed too. “It’s fine if you take the shares. I’m not jealous. Keep the wealth in the family. When you grow up, I’ll just chase you and make you my wife… I’ve watched you grow up. Aside from your illness, we know you’re a good person.” Me: “…” My heart felt warm, but I also felt a strong urge to roast him. Lucas and I are only two years apart. We used to bathe in the same tub as kids. How can he even think about that? He might be able to, but I definitely can’t! [Brother, you will always be the best brother in my heart. I don’t want the shares. This home is wonderful, and I love you all very much. But it’s time for me to go back to my own home and return to the life that was meant for me.] Sarah looked at me with mockery and sneered. “Stop with the fake acting. If you were really willing to give up this luxurious life, you’d be packing your bags right now. Saying all this is just a tactic to make Mom, Dad, and Lucas think I’m forcing you out so they’ll hate me even more.” She looked at my parents with disgust, like she had nothing left to lose. “This house has no room for an outsider like me. The one who should leave isn’t her. It’s me.” With that, she ran upstairs, eyes red, grabbed her suitcase, and came back down. 2 Her suitcase was still packed from her arrival. She didn’t even need to organize. Seeing me still on the sofa digging for my charger and Switch, she scoffed again. “Dragging your feet. I knew you didn’t want to leave. It’s fine. If you won’t go, I will.” She turned to Dad, looking exhausted. “I don’t want a penny from you in the future. I don’t care about the shares. Just transfer my household registration back here. I want to get into Stanford, and I need the local residency status. As your biological daughter, is that too much to ask?” She stared at Dad coldly, looking like she saw right through him. Dad scratched his head, clearly having a headache. He ordered the butler. “Lock all the doors. Don’t let either of them leave.” Then he dragged Mom, who looked like a lost puppy, up to the third floor. “Come on, we need to figure out what to do. My head is splitting…” Mom looked sadly at Sarah and me. Clearly, neither she nor Dad wanted to give up either daughter. Lucas walked up to Sarah with a dark face, grabbed her suitcase, and carried it back to the guest room on the second floor. “What are you doing?” Sarah chased after him, furious. “This is illegal imprisonment! I’m calling the police!” Lucas threw the suitcase into the room, snatched her phone, tapped on it for a bit, and handed it back. Ding! My phone buzzed. It was a notification that Sarah had been added to the family group chat. Immediately after, I saw a transfer notification from Lucas to Sarah. $10,000. With a note: [Welcome home, Sarah!] That was his entire allowance for the month. I immediately followed suit and transferred her $10,000. [Welcome home, Sarah!] Then Mom and Dad sent a massive transfer. [Welcome home, Sarah! It was our fault we didn’t realize our daughter was switched. We will protect and compensate you from now on.] They sent $5,000,000. I paused. Since when were Mom and Dad this generous with cash? Sure enough, Mom sent another message. [Considering you’re young and don’t know how to manage finances, once your registration is transferred, Mom will open a new account for you and put this money in a trust. You can withdraw the interest every month. We’ll also give you an additional $10,000 monthly allowance. This is how we raised your brother and Paige.] Meaning, no favoritism. Sarah didn’t reply. She didn’t accept the money. She just glanced at Lucas and me. “Hypocrites!” Then she pushed Lucas out and slammed the door. Lucas looked at me, speechless. He saw me clutching my throat, slowly walking toward my room. “Paige, you’re not really thinking of leaving, are you?” “Don’t be silly. Your biological parents are a gambler and an alcoholic. Both have violent tendencies. When I grabbed her phone, I saw scars all over Sarah’s arms. You’ve been raised like a princess for eighteen years. If you go back, you’ll be beaten to death in days. Believe me?” “And if your illness relapses… sigh! Just don’t be stupid…” Of course I knew going back would be hell. People who would swap their own baby for a rich one aren’t exactly saints. [Brother, I will always love you.] Seeing that sentence, Lucas thought I had given up and let out a long sigh of relief. In the middle of the night, when the butler dozed off, I snuck out through the doggy door in the garden wall. Standing outside, I looked back at the elegant estate. The home I lived in for eighteen years. I wanted to cry. Dad, Mom, Lucas… I love you. If only I were really yours. But I’m not. I’m the reason your perfect family was broken. What right do I have to stay? Goodbye. 3 My biological parents lived in a dilapidated shack on the outskirts of City C. The shack was surrounded by a crumbling wall. Beyond the wall was a small forest and a creek. The other houses in the village were far away. It was like this family was intentionally isolated. Well! No wonder no one called the police despite Sarah being abused for years. In a place this remote, even if someone died, no one would know, right? 4 A large black dog lay at the entrance of the small courtyard. I got out of the taxi, clutching the address I stole from Dad’s study and the photo of the Lin family. The dog immediately bared its fangs and barked ferociously. “Woof! Woof!” “Who is it?” Hearing the dog, a young man with dyed yellow hair walked out. He was thin as a rail, wearing a red tank top, heavy eyeliner, and a neck full of cheap silver chains. His jeans were covered in studs. He stared at me for a second, looking weirded out. “Paige Lawson?” I nodded and forced out a painful greeting. “Brother… Dave?” Dave sneered. “Who’s your brother? Didn’t the Lawsons say they’d keep raising you? Why are you back? If you know what’s good for you, hand over the money you got from them and scram back to your rich life. You’re lucky to have such soft-hearted foster parents.” Yeah. How lucky am I to have lived with Mom and Dad for eighteen years? My throat hurt so bad. Speaking was torture. I looked down and scribbled on my tablet, my long hair hiding my expression. [I’m not going back! And I didn’t take much money from the Lawsons.] To make Sarah feel secure, I decided to cut ties completely. I changed my SIM card and abandoned my old social media accounts. The substantial savings my parents gave me over the years were in fixed deposits, and I didn’t bring the cards. “Didn’t take much? Who are you kidding?” Dave scoffed, clearly not buying it. I wrote seriously: [I only took $3,000 cash. I need it for medicine. Anti-inflammatories and sedatives are expensive.] Dave rolled his eyes. “You lived with the richest family in City A for eighteen years, and you only have that much? Who’d believe that? You cheapskate, you need a lesson. Blackie, sic her! Bite her ear off!” The dog listened to Dave perfectly. It lunged at me, jaws wide, aiming for my ear. I had developmental delays as a child; I’m only 4’11”. When the dog stood up, it was as tall as me. It opened its mouth, drooling stinking saliva onto my face. I got goosebumps from the disgust. Just as it was about to bite my ear, its eyes changed. It collapsed, convulsing in pain. “Whimper… whine…” It struggled for a moment, then stopped moving. Dave ran over in a panic. He saw blood gushing from the dog’s chest. “Blackie? Blackie?” He looked up, startled, and saw me holding a bloody tactical knife. “Paige! Blackie has been with me for ten years! He’s family! How could you be so cruel…” I ignored him. I calmly wiped the dog blood off the knife with a wet wipe. And off my face and clothes. Unfortunately, the blood spatter on my white dress wouldn’t come off.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “386271”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

I came home early for the holidays, hiding in the wardrobe to surprise my parents. In the evening, they came back, whispering right in front of me: “Honey, Claire comes back tomorrow. Have you figured out how to kill her yet?” “Easy. She trusts us completely. We’ll put some pills in her food, then strangle her with a rope.” I covered my mouth in horror, stifling a scream. Then, my dad looked down. “Huh? Why is there an extra pair of shoes by the door?” 1 My hand froze mid-air, inches from pushing open the wardrobe door. I couldn’t believe my ears. Claire is my name. My parents… want to kill me? “Sigh, do we really have to go this far? We raised her for twenty years, after all.” “Cut the crap. She has to die.” I trembled all over, my legs turning to jelly. Was this really my father speaking? What did I do wrong? Why do they want me dead? My mind raced, my heart feeling like it was being sliced open. In my memory, my parents had always been kind people. They were friendly to everyone, wouldn’t even kill a mouse that ran into the house. They had always been good to me and my little brother. How could they possibly want to kill me? It must be a joke. Right? I tried to steady my breathing, patting my chest. Yes, that must be it. They probably knew I was back and were just messing with me. I refused to believe my parents would kill me. I took a deep breath, ready to burst out and clear things up. Then I saw my dad walk into the living room, holding a rope. “This rope should be enough. Tomorrow, make her favorite dishes and put a heavy dose of the drugs in them.” My mom hesitated, wiping away tears. My dad slapped his thigh in frustration. “We’re at the point of no return, and you’re still hesitating? If she doesn’t die, our son will. Is a daughter more important than a son?” My mom went silent, then nodded heavily. I know my parents. Their expressions… they weren’t joking. Which means, they really intend to kill me. A layer of frost seemed to coat my body. I crouched in the wardrobe, shivering violently, tears streaming down my face like a broken dam. I clamped my hand over my mouth, desperate not to make a sound. My dad walked to the door and suddenly froze. “Honey, why is there an extra pair of shoes on the rack?” 2 My eyes widened in terror. Crap, I forgot about that! To surprise them, I had dragged my suitcase into the wardrobe with me, terrified they’d spot it. But I took off my shoes. I knew my mom; she was a neat freak and would be furious if I wore shoes inside. It was a habit. I had taken them off and left them by the door without thinking. My dad bent down, picking up a shoe and examining it closely. His cold gaze slowly drifted toward the wardrobe where I was hiding. Our eyes almost met through the slats. I’m dead! My heart pounded against my ribs like a drum. They were already planning to kill me. If they found me now, my death would only be more gruesome. His expression twisted into something menacing as he slowly walked toward me. The room was dead silent, except for the thunderous beating of my heart echoing in my ears. Just as my dad was about to open the wardrobe, my mom appeared. “What shoes?” She bent down, picked up the other one, and thought for a moment. “These look like Claire’s.” “Hers? Is she back?” My dad’s voice was devoid of emotion. My mom’s eyes darted around, then she shook her head. “Impossible. She specifically said she’s coming back tomorrow. I must have dug these out yesterday to have them ready for her.” My dad let out a breath, his hand slowly dropping from the handle. “Tomorrow decides the fate of our entire family. Don’t screw it up.” “For Danny’s sake, don’t go soft.” My mom nodded coldly. “I know. I love our son more than anything.” My heart felt like it was being shredded. The pain was unbearable. They always favored my brother, Danny, but I never minded much. He was younger; as the older sister, I thought it was my duty to yield. But I couldn’t understand—what exactly did Danny need that required my life as the price? I took a deep breath, opening my eyes with a newfound resolve. If they didn’t see me as a daughter, there was no point in grieving. Priority one: survive. Priority two: figure out what the hell they were planning. I glanced at my phone. It was 6:00 PM. I just needed to hold out until they went to their bedroom, then I could make a run for it. I had recorded everything just now. Originally, I wanted to capture a happy reunion. I smiled bitterly, curling tighter into the corner of the wardrobe, shaking uncontrollably. The home I lived in for twenty years now felt like hell. About thirty minutes later, I heard a crisp, childish voice. “Mom, Dad, I’m home.” I looked up. I knew that voice. It was my little brother, Danny. He must have just gotten back from school. He threw his backpack down and jumped into Dad’s arms. “My good boy, you’re back! Let Daddy give you a kiss.” He kissed Danny hard, his face beaming with joy. Mom picked up the backpack, stroking Danny’s head gently. “Tired from school? Wash your hands, let’s eat.” I watched all this with dead eyes, memories of my own childhood flooding back. Before we moved here, I remembered rushing into Dad’s arms just like that after school. He would laugh heartily, rubbing his stubble against my cheek. Was all of that fake? Did they never love me? Was Danny the only one who mattered? I was an outsider in this family. Look how happy they were. You couldn’t tell that moments ago they were plotting my murder with such cold cruelty. I buried my face in my arms, realizing I had run out of tears. In these few short hours, my heart had completely died. Suddenly, a chill ran down my spine. I looked up and saw Danny standing right in front of the wardrobe, staring dead at me through the gap. 3 My heart stopped. Terror seized me instantly. Crap! If he exposes me, I’m done for. “Sister!” He whispered. Cold sweat poured down my back. I frantically put a finger to my lips, signaling him to be quiet. His big eyes were filled with confusion. He tilted his head, seemingly unable to understand why I was hiding. “Sister?” He said it again, louder this time. Mom poked her head out from the kitchen. “Son, who are you talking to?” I panicked completely. I mouthed to him: “I’m playing hide-and-seek with Mom and Dad. Don’t talk.” He stared at me intensely. Then, he stroked his chin and smiled. A weird, twisted smile. A smile that didn’t belong on a ten-year-old’s face. It made my skin crawl. Dad noticed too. His eyes went cold as he walked over, a kitchen knife in hand. “Son? Who are you talking to?” Danny turned to look at Dad, then pointed straight at the wardrobe. “It’s Sister.” “Sister is in the wardrobe.” The room went dead silent. I felt like I had plunged into an ice cave. This little brat. I wanted to burst out and strangle him right then and there. Dad’s massive frame shuddered violently as he looked at the wardrobe in horror. Mom rushed over too. The three of them stared at me through the wood. So strange. So cold. “Daughter, are you back?” “Did you hear everything?” I stayed silent, curling my small body into the corner, trembling. Dad signaled Danny to move aside. The knife in his hand glinted coldly. I squeezed my eyes shut, tears soaking my sleeves. Creak. The wardrobe door opened. Dad’s head and the knife poked in. Silence. One second, two seconds… Time seemed to freeze. A bizarre sense of absurdity washed over me, like I wasn’t even in this world anymore. About a minute later, I heard Dad let out a sigh of relief, followed by a burst of laughter. “Silly boy, how could your sister be in the wardrobe?” “It’s just a photo.” Dad picked up a framed photo near me, wiped it gently, his eyes flickering with emotion. Mom let out a long breath too, patting her chest. “Scared me to death.” Danny stared at me, hidden amongst the pile of clothes, but he didn’t say a word. Mom snatched the photo from Dad. “Son, you miss your sister, don’t you?” “Don’t worry, she’ll be back tomorrow.” Danny stared at the photo for a few minutes. Suddenly, he raised it high and smashed it onto the floor. Crash. Glass shattered everywhere. “I hate Sister.” He stomped on it twice, hard. “I hate Sister. I never want to see her again.” Mom and Dad looked at each other, surprised. Dad squatted down, hugged him, and tapped his nose. “Don’t worry, son. Tomorrow will be the last time you see her.” “Daddy promises. After that, you’ll never see her again.” Danny nodded vigorously, then smiled. Mom watched him with a loving smile, whispering softly: “Son, we’re doing this all for you.” The three of them left laughing, turning off the living room lights. The last sliver of light vanished. I was left in pitch-black despair. I lay in the pile of clothes, staring at the ceiling, my chest heaving, tears flowing uncontrollably. What happened in the six months I was away? Six months ago, when I came home, Danny jumped into my arms, nuzzling me. Mom and Dad asked about my life, carried my bags, cooked a feast. Laughter. Love. Back then, I thought I had the happiest family in the world. I would have given everything for them. But now, I was discarded. Hated. A lamb to the slaughter. A useless daughter. I cried until I fell asleep. I was woken up in the middle of the night by a strange noise. 4 I snapped my eyes open, praying it was all a nightmare. But the dark wardrobe told me everything was real. I was lucky Dad didn’t find me earlier. Otherwise, I’d be a corpse by now. I slowly propped myself up, trying not to make a sound. It was my parents. They were dressed and in the living room. They were whispering to each other. I checked my phone. 2:00 AM. Where were they going this late? My heart raced. This was my chance to escape. I hadn’t called the police because I still held onto a shred of hope. Once the police got involved, there was no turning back. I needed to know what happened to this family. Were these people really my parents? They were cautious. They opened the door, peeked out to make sure the coast was clear, then left. The house returned to silence. I didn’t leave immediately. I waited ten minutes to make sure they were gone. I gently pushed the wardrobe door open and stepped out. In the darkness, I heard a child’s voice. “Sister.” I turned around. Danny was standing there in his pajamas, staring at me with dark pupils. I glared at him, fists clenched, his words from earlier echoing in my mind. “I hate Sister. I never want to see her again.” Why? Tears fell again. I slowly approached him. He took two steps back, sobbing. “Are you going to hit me, Sister?” That sentence broke my psychological defenses. Grief surged like a fountain. I let out a desperate wail, clutching my chest, sobbing uncontrollably. He stood not far away, slowly reaching out a hand, then stopping. He just stared at me, his big eyes filled with anxiety, fear, confusion, and pain. “Danny, can you tell me why you hate me?” I stepped forward to hug him, but he shoved me away. “I just hate you! Dad says you’re a slut! A money-loser!” “It’s because of you that our life is bad!” I gritted my teeth, about to speak, when Danny started screaming. “Mom! Dad! Sister is hitting me!” “Help! Help!” I snapped back to reality and clamped my hand over his mouth. He continued to scream, muffled, kicking and thrashing. In that moment, I wanted to suffocate the little monster. But at the last second, I let go. Danny sat on the floor, stopped crying, stopped screaming. He looked at me with expectation. I glared at him one last time, turned, and left. Danny stared at my back, mumbling something. But I didn’t hear it.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “386270”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

On the way home from another day of bullying, I found a notebook with no name on it. I decided to use it as a diary, writing down the hell I was going through. Suddenly, the notebook wrote back. “Go to Northside High. Find Luke Vance. He will help you.” 1 July 26, 2009. Wednesday. Overcast. Today, Chloe and Jessica forced me to kneel on broken glass. They tore my clothes. They took photos. I cried and begged, but it didn’t matter. It only made them worse. My throat is raw from screaming, and there isn’t a single part of me that doesn’t hurt. I cried to my parents, but they said we’re poor. We can’t afford a better life. We can’t offend them because their families have money. They have parents who protect them. Even the teachers and the principal listen to them. Why don’t I? I don’t want to be bullied anymore. I want someone to protect me too. I ran my fingers over the bloodstains and tear marks on the page. I put down the pen. My knees were throbbing. The iodine my parents applied stung just as bad. Suddenly, the notebook moved. Words began to appear on the paper. “Don’t cry. Go to Northside High, Senior Class 3. Find Luke Vance. He can protect you.” I stared blankly at the words forming before my eyes. It wasn’t a hallucination. The handwriting was bold and forceful, like a boy’s. I picked up my pen and wrote: “Who are you?” “Doesn’t matter. Just find Luke. He’ll help you.” “Oh wait, it’s 2009. You need to tell him something specific.” “What?” I wrote. “Tell him: ‘I won’t eat cake ever again.’” I stared at the sentence, completely confused. If the physical pain wasn’t so sharp, I would have thought I was dreaming. After that, no matter what I wrote, the notebook didn’t reply. 2 The next day, I got on the 952 bus. The notebook was in my bag. This wasn’t the route to my school. I was going to Northside High. Just to see. To try. When you’re desperate, you grasp at anything, no matter how ridiculous. The words in the notebook were my only hope. Before leaving, I slipped a folding knife into my bag. Northside High wasn’t far from my school, Eastside High. It was the best high school in the state. I got off the bus and walked straight in. Luckily, we were all high schoolers, and the uniforms looked similar enough. Security didn’t stop me. I stumbled my way to the senior hallway and found Class 3. “Who are you looking for?” A boy standing by the door asked curiously. I gripped my backpack straps, keeping my head down. “I’m looking for Luke Vance.” “Luke’s not here. Try again later, kid.” He turned to go back inside, but I grabbed his arm. “Wait… can you tell me where he is? It’s urgent.” The boy hesitated, seeing how anxious I was. “At this time? Probably still awake from an all-nighter at the internet cafe. Try the breakfast joint on the street behind the school.” I bowed quickly. “Thank you.” The boy stepped back, waving his hands. “Whoa, no need for that.” Following his directions, I found the street behind the school. It was bustling with vendors. I watched the students passing by, wanting to turn and run a hundred times. Coming here based on a magical notebook? Impulsive. Maybe I was losing my mind. But then the memories of them dragging me by my hair into the boys’ bathroom flashed in my mind. My heart felt like it was being ripped apart. I was already here. Even the smallest hope was worth a shot. I spotted the breakfast joint on the corner. A few students in uniform were eating inside. In the corner sat a boy with bleached blonde hair. He looked like a delinquent. I twisted the hem of my shirt and walked up to a group of students. “Excuse me… do you know Luke Vance?” They paused. Suddenly, the blonde boy in the corner looked up. His eyes were bloodshot. “Why are you looking for me?” 3 I froze. Short sleeves. A tattoo on his neck. A scar across the bridge of his nose. Even with the scar, which most would call a disfigurement, he was unfairly handsome. It just added a dangerous edge to his look. But handsome or not… He definitely didn’t look like a model student at a top high school. Luke leaned back in his chair, legs crossed, looking reckless. Just like the “bad news” teachers warned us about. I instinctively wanted to run. Then I remembered the notebook. Would he really help me? “Cat got your tongue?” Luke slurped some noodles, then glared at me. “If you got nothing to say, get lost. You’re ruining my appetite.” I gritted my teeth, walked over, and sat opposite him. Under his scrutiny, I stammered, “I… I’m being bullied. Someone told me you could help…” “Hah.” Luke scoffed before I could finish. “You got the wrong guy. Help you? Who the hell told you to find me? Everyone at Northside knows I’m the one doing the bullying.” “Go back and cut ties with whoever told you that. They’re messing with you.” I bit my lip, remembering the notebook. “He said… if I told you one sentence, you’d help me.” “What sentence?” “Tell him: ‘I won’t eat cake ever again.’” Luke froze mid-bite. He looked up, his gaze turning ice cold. I shrank back in fear. Just as I thought he might hit me, he stood up, wiping his mouth with a napkin. “Let’s go.” I blinked. “Where?” “You wanted help, right? I’ll go kill them for you. Good?” He looked back at me. My scalp tingled. I waved my hands frantically. “I… I just wanted protection, not murder…” “Oh.” Luke nodded. He raised his arm, and I noticed he was wearing a watch that looked like a woman’s style. “How do you want protection? Bodyguard style? 24/7?” He turned back, the sunlight catching his grin. It was beautiful. I opened my mouth but couldn’t say a word. 4 Luke walked me to the gate of Eastside High. Seeing the school made my chest tighten like a giant hand was squeezing it. I couldn’t breathe. “Wait here a sec.” Luke ruffled his hair and walked off. I gritted my teeth and walked through the gate. The security guard glanced at me. “Exams are coming up. Stop hanging around with those thugs.” I didn’t answer. In the hallway, every student passing by made my skin crawl. I flinched at every accidental touch. When I entered the classroom, the noise died instantly. Chloe turned around and snickered. “Oh, look, Maya’s here! I thought you wouldn’t dare show up today.” Her laugh made my body go rigid. Fear flooded my veins. “What are you doing standing there? Get in!” The teacher shoved me from behind. I stumbled to my seat. “Exams are around the corner! Focus!” the teacher barked. My seat was in the back row. As soon as I sat down, Chloe turned around. She gave me a look of pure malice. I saw her mouth the words clearly. “Don’t leave after school.” … I rubbed the cover of my textbook, watching the seconds tick by. Every second, my heart sank lower. The nightmare… was coming back. I pulled the notebook out of my bag and reread the conversation. I thought of Luke. Would he come back? The bell rang. School was out. “Focus on your studies!” the teacher reminded us one last time before leaving. Chloe stood up and turned to face me. Luke didn’t come. I thought despairingly. No one is going to protect me. 5 Chloe cornered me. “Little bitch, you told the teacher, didn’t you?” She kicked me. I fell to the floor. Pain shot through me, bringing a cold sweat. “I… I didn’t tell anyone.” “Bullshit.” Jessica walked up behind Chloe, glaring at me. “If you didn’t tell, why did the teacher call me to the office?” “Little bitch, you didn’t learn your lesson yesterday?” Jessica grabbed my hair. From pain to numbness, I knelt on the floor, tears streaming down my face. They seemed to enjoy my suffering. “Scream louder!” Jessica pulled a black plastic bag from her backpack. She shook it in front of my terrified face, laughing. A crunching sound came from inside. “Kneeling didn’t teach you enough yesterday. Today, you eat it.” I realized instantly. The bag was full of broken glass. “No!” I scrambled up and shoved Chloe hard. Then I ran like my life depended on it. “You bitch! You dare push me?!” Before I could reach the door, a hand grabbed my hair and dragged me back toward the boys’ bathroom. “Run! Keep running!” Jessica pried my mouth open. Chloe opened the bag, ready to pour the glass down my throat. I squeezed my eyes shut in terror and despair. Praying for it to be over quickly. I trembled, waiting for the pain. But it never came. “You dare touch my person?” A familiar voice. I opened my eyes. Through the blur of tears, I saw Luke. He had dyed his hair black and changed into our school uniform. A cigarette dangled from his lips. He crushed the cigarette against the wall.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “386269”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel