Author: Momo Chan

My sister and I were simultaneously chosen for a marriage alliance with the Beastkin Federation. In my previous life, Seraphina had rushed ahead of me, picking the stunningly handsome and noble Crown Prince of the Serpent Clan as her husband. I was left to marry the brutish and unsightly Prince of the Lycan Clan. But later, the handsome Serpent Crown Prince, frail in body, was tragically struck down by lightning and died during an attempt at full human transformation. Seraphina was reduced to a mere plaything for the Serpent Princes, stripped of all dignity. Meanwhile, the Lycan Prince I had chosen received a rare chance to transform early into a formidable and dominant Lycan King, becoming the rightful heir to his clan. I became the most esteemed woman in the Lycan Clan. The entire Beastkin Federation said the Lycan King adored me, or else I wouldn’t have borne him child after child. When I opened my eyes again, Seraphina and I were back on the day of the marriage discussions. This time, to my utter surprise, Seraphina chose the unsightly Lycan Prince. She gazed at me, utterly smug and triumphant, her eyes glinting with fierce ambition. It was then that I realized Seraphina, just like me, had been reborn. This couldn’t be better. I lowered my head, using feigned dejection to mask the exhilaration and tremor within me.

I am Anya, a princess of the Spirit Fox Clan. Our clan had lost the battle for territory against the Beastkin Federation. Father King decided that Seraphina and I would undertake a strategic marriage with the Beastkin to preserve the strength of our Spirit Fox Clan. At this very moment, in the great hall, Father King, just like in my previous life, had us choose our prospective husbands. On the enchanted scrying mirror sent by the Beastkin Federation, the proud and majestic Crown Prince of the Serpent Clan and the unsightly Prince of the Lycan Clan were clearly visible. I was still lost in the memories of my previous life when Seraphina, unable to contain her eagerness, spoke first: “Father King, I choose this fierce-looking Lycan Prince. Don’t let my little sister face such a terrifying Beastkin.” Seraphina’s demeanor seemed thoughtful and concerned, but her eyes subtly betrayed a steely resolve, as if she was absolutely certain of her choice. Seeing her like that, I knew my sister had been reborn, just like me. In my previous life, Seraphina chose the Serpent Crown Prince. But that seemingly distinguished and powerful Serpent Crown Prince was, in fact, frail. He tragically died after being struck by powerful lightning during his transformation. Seraphina was reduced to a mere plaything for the Serpent Princes, her life a living hell. Meanwhile, the Lycan Prince I had married unexpectedly received a rare chance to transform early into a formidable and dominant Lycan King, successfully becoming the leader of the Lycan Clan. I was revered as the Lycan Queen, bearing him eight children and living in unparalleled favor and prestige. So, in this life, she had completely changed her approach, choosing the Lycan Prince whom she had previously despised. Father King, hearing her profound and noble words, nodded in satisfaction, then turned to look at me. Because of Seraphina’s long-term oppression, I always presented a fragile facade of meekness to others. At this moment, I feigned ignorance and lowered my head, ‘thanking’ my sister for her supposed generosity. But where no one could see, I trembled with excitement. As Seraphina walked past me, she whispered, just loud enough for only the two of us to hear: “Little sister, the Serpent men, uh… they really *value* their women. You’ll find quite the ‘blessing’ waiting for you there, little sister.” She watched my stunned expression, offered a mysterious smile, and walked away. But what she didn’t know was that I was practically dancing with joy inside.

A few days later, Crown Prince Kaelen Serpentis of the Serpent Clan and Prince Jax Lycan of the Lycan Clan arrived together to escort us. Neither had fully transformed yet; their human torsos joined to their beast forms. Crown Prince Kaelen was tall, his face exquisitely handsome, with the proud aura of a born leader in his eyes. His lower body was a silvery serpent’s tail, shimmering with an iridescent sheen like scales, surprisingly beautiful and majestic. He knew I had chosen him and nodded slightly in my direction. I tucked in my fox tail and dutifully walked to his side. His eyes showed satisfaction, and he even reached out to stroke my fur. His touch was gentle, and suddenly, a pleasant shiver seemed to course through every cell of my body. I instinctively squinted my eyes. Next to us, Seraphina was excitedly hoisted onto Jax Lycan’s shoulder, who let out a loud howl. In my previous life, his rough demeanor had startled me too, but being naturally compliant, I had surprisingly gained his favor. Seraphina’s face turned pale green, and she nearly cursed out loud, but bit it back, forcing a terribly twisted smile instead. Jax Lycan carried her onto the carriage just like that, and I couldn’t help but chuckle. Unexpectedly, Kaelen’s teasing voice came from above: “Little fox, what are you laughing at? Do you want me to carry you too?” When he smiled, it was like sunlight melting snow—so warm and captivating that I was stunned. While I was still dazed, a silver flash suddenly whipped past my eyes, wrapping itself around my waist. With a gentle tug, I was scooped up and delivered right into his arms. Feeling the icy chill of his embrace and the rapid thump of his heartbeat, I instantly blushed deeply, instinctively burying my face in his chest. His low chuckle rumbled in my ears, his trembling body making my heart pound and my cheeks flush. My sister in the previous life thought Crown Prince Kaelen was arrogant and rude. Was she insane? This was clearly my favorite kind of dominant alpha male, and my heart fluttered with a sweet, intoxicating sensation. In this dazed state, he carried me into the carriage. The carriage was lined with thick, soft fur blankets. As I lay on them, my fur even seemed to complement the color. It seemed my husband was quite fond of furry things. This was a good sign. Hehe, I started fantasizing about our married life. After entering the carriage, Kaelen coiled his tail into a neat bundle, resting on the blanket. He seemed especially sensitive to the cold, his body trembling slightly. Looking at his quiet, handsome face, I felt a pang of tenderness. I slowly moved closer to him, using my fur to warm him. We, the Spirit Fox Clan, possess an innate healing aura. When other Beastkin spend time with us, their spiritual energy slowly increases, and their minds become exceptionally peaceful. Kaelen visibly relaxed, spreading himself out. I could feel his entire body nestling under mine. A moment later, he actually drifted into a deep sleep. Bored, I started counting his serpent scales for fun. Before I knew it, I, too, had fallen asleep. When I woke up again, I found our bodies intertwined in a remarkably intimate way. Startled, I tried to get up, only to look up and meet Kaelen’s deep, piercing eyes. I flinched in fright, and he took a deep breath before finally pulling away from my body. “Little fox, you better not tempt me. I don’t want to touch you right now.” Hearing that, there was nothing left to misunderstand. My face instantly turned as red as a ripe apple, and I moved to sit far away from him. Seeing my pitiful expression, he chuckled softly, then helplessly waved me over. “Come here. I wasn’t scolding you; I was protecting you, silly.” At his words, I looked at him with wide, timid eyes. Steeling my resolve, I moved closer again. I had heard that shared spiritual practice was very effective for enhancing spiritual energy. Since I had decided to stand by him this lifetime, there was no turning back now. But to my surprise, he didn’t embrace me this time. Instead, he had me lie comfortably across his lap, and his hand gently stroked my fur. He smoothed my fur, stroke after stroke, like giving me a massage. I unconsciously closed my eyes in comfort. I heard him murmur beside my ear: “I don’t know why, but whenever I groom your fur, I feel more energized, my mind clears. Is it truly your Spirit Fox Clan’s healing aura?” Listening to him, I wondered, could it be that in my previous life, Seraphina didn’t help him enhance his spiritual energy, leading to his failed transformation? If so, it made sense. The Beastkin Federation agreed to end their conflicts through marriage alliances with us because of the unique bloodline of our Spirit Fox Clan. If Seraphina didn’t help Kaelen, he would naturally be too weak to withstand the lightning tribulation. Just then, the carriage suddenly halted. The guards and attendants outside reported that it was time for a meal. Only then did I realize I was a little hungry and looked at Kaelen with eager eyes. He let out a soft scoff, as if finding me utterly undignified, but immediately gave orders. His hand, however, continued to stroke my fur. “Prepare some of our specialty dishes for the Crown Princess, let her sample them.” The meal was quickly served. In front of me was a clean, roasted rabbit, glistening with oil and emanating an inviting aroma. I couldn’t help but take a deep breath, instantly enchanted. Kaelen watched me, amused, a hint of fondness in his eyes. He leaned forward, picked up a napkin, and gently wiped my furry paws. He even put a pair of hygienic gloves on me. “Look at you, my greedy little fox. Weren’t you fed enough back home?” He hit the mark. Father King had been starving us lately, only giving us a few wild fruits daily, to ensure we looked our best for Kaelen and Jax Lycan. I lowered my head, watching my paws being cleaned in his hands, and mumbled a dazed “Mmh.” A wave of warmth bloomed in my heart. A thoughtful and hygienic man, a little dominant, yes, but I absolutely loved it. Once everything was done, he said gently, “Eat.” I swallowed hard and eagerly began to eat. Having not eaten in ages, I was truly famished and completely forgot my usual etiquette. Only after I finished did I remember he hadn’t eaten yet, so I asked. But he simply said he was feeling unwell and would pass for now. Remembering how he had curled up earlier, a pang of pity struck me. I moved closer to him, enveloping him in my soft, blanket-like fox fur. He tensed for a moment, perhaps unsure of my intent. But moments later, his body relaxed, allowing me to comfortably settle around him. “You are my husband now. Let me heal you.” My voice, laced with tenderness, whispered in his ear. He remained silent, but I could feel something subtle shifting between us. And so, I held him, and we both drifted into a comfortable sleep.

There was still some distance to the Beastkin Federation, and our carriage traveled alongside Seraphina’s. The atmosphere in their carriage seemed vastly different from ours. Peculiar noises, mingled with Jax Lycan’s and Seraphina’s voices, made both Kaelen and me quite uncomfortable. Kaelen and I took the opportunity of a carriage stop to stretch our legs outside. Again, those odd sounds drifted from Seraphina’s carriage. I stole a glance at Kaelen, whose ears flushed a deep, telltale red, completely beyond his control. But he immediately turned to me, his face a patchy red, feigning annoyance. “Don’t listen in. You’re still too young.” Seeing his attempt at bravado, I lowered my head and stifled a laugh. A moment later, Seraphina was carried out by Jax Lycan. She seemed not to expect us to be there, and for a fleeting moment, she looked shy. But upon seeing me, an inexplicable smugness returned to her expression. I discreetly observed her, feigning ignorance and bewilderment. Jax Lycan set her down, then went off to hunt on his own. Lycans, before achieving full human form, had to eat wild game. Kaelen softly explained what he was going to do, then stroked my head and left. Seeing our intimacy firsthand, Seraphina’s eyes glinted with naked jealousy. She leaned closer to me. “Little sister, you and the Serpent Crown Prince seem very close, but there’s still a hint of distance, unlike Jax Lycan and me…” As she spoke, she seemed too shy to continue, her face flushed as she looked at me, the trace of desire not yet fully faded from her eyes. She thought I would envy her and the Lycan Prince’s early intimacy, believing it would secure her status within the Lycan Clan. She had no idea the endless captivity that awaited her. I sneered inwardly, but kept my expression neutral, my eyes wide and innocent as I sincerely congratulated her: “Congratulations, Sister, on your harmonious relationship with the Prince. May you soon be blessed with an heir.” Hearing my words, her face flushed even deeper, her eyes filled with the languid, sated contentment of one who’d had their fill. She cast a dismissive glance at me and returned to her carriage. As if she couldn’t be bothered with me anymore. Watching her retreating figure, many past memories surged through me. Good. She was still so arrogant and dismissive. People who are too proud sometimes pay a heavy price for it. Seraphina came from a noble background; her mother was from the White Feather Clan, one of the four great families of the Spirit Fox Clan. Both mother and daughter were immensely favored in the palace, which fostered her haughty and self-important personality. My birth mother, however, was merely a minor palace attendant. I was conceived during one of Father King’s drunken dalliances. Father King, naturally promiscuous, forgot about my mother as soon as he had taken his pleasure. We lived in a small, remote courtyard. In my memory, she would often lean against the doorway, hoping that unfeeling man would grace her with another glance. She developed a chronic illness after my birth and worried herself sick day in and day out, eventually falling ill within a few years. I cared for her while foraging for food everywhere. During our hardest times, we barely ate any meat every two days, which meant my fur was sparse and I looked rather homely even at five years old. Consequently, the princesses and princes of the palace often bullied me, Seraphina most of all. Her mother’s family held considerable power, so no one dared to defy her. I had survived all these years by playing naive and foolish. I held no expectations or affection for that royal family anymore; this strategic marriage was my farewell.

Seven days later, we arrived in the territory of the Beastkin Federation. The Beastkin Federation was formed by an alliance of many clans. The leader is chosen every four years through a fair and just contest of strength. The reigning monarch was currently King Oberon, the Serpent King, and Kaelen’s father. Therefore, Kaelen’s status was more esteemed than the Lycan Prince’s. As soon as we stepped out of the carriage, the welcoming procession arrived. Tall, handsome Serpent Clan members, already in their human forms, wore luxurious clothing. Behind them was an exquisitely elaborate and spacious carriage, its body gleaming with dazzling golden light. I looked at Kaelen with delight. He affectionately stroked my fur, then coiled his tail around me and carried me towards the carriage. In my previous life, when we arrived at the Beastkin Federation, Seraphina and Kaelen had somehow fallen out. Neither would back down, and Kaelen had simply left her behind and returned to the Royal City alone. I never had the chance to witness such a grand and luxurious scene. Without even turning back, I knew Seraphina’s face must be utterly grim right now, because I could hear the muffled, petulant sounds of her bickering with the Lycan Prince. “Husband, why aren’t our clan members here to greet us? Look how comfortable their carriage is. I’m the older sister, yet my younger sister’s procession has outdone mine!”

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The year Scarlett and I were purest, the year I poured my entire soul into her. Three scars became etched onto her body for me: one above her brow, one on her ankle, and one across her back. Everyone whispered that Scarlett loved me more than life itself. Until, another man brazenly showed up at my door. “You must be Adrian, right?” He flung a stack of photos, hitting me square in the face. “Scarlett hasn’t loved you for ages. I suggest you get lost, while you still have a shred of dignity.” In the photos, Scarlett’s gaze was soft, tender. I watched the rain intensify, then subtly raised a hand. The man’s shriek, muffled by the downpour, left a final, desperate plea: “Scarlett won’t let you get away with this!” But I just looked coldly at Scarlett, who sat across from me, ready to lay down the law. “Sign the papers.” “You disgust me.” “Adrian!” Scarlett sat opposite me. Behind her stood her two most loyal lieutenants, surrounded by dozens of bodyguards. They filled my spacious living room. It wasn’t a negotiation; it was a siege. I watched Scarlett, her fury barely contained, tap the table. “He’s still in the ICU.” She raised a brow, the strategically placed lighting highlighting the prominent scar there. “He was innocent,” Scarlett’s voice was low, laced with an oppressive edge. “He’s only twenty. Twenty years old, and you almost ended his life! Do you know what the doctors told me?” “They said he might never walk like a normal person again.” Scarlett’s voice blended with the rhythmic drumming of rain against the window. I remembered that day, the man’s dying breath a desperate shout. “Scarlett won’t let you get away with this!” “So,” I met Scarlett’s furious gaze, handing my untouched tea to the maid, “you’ve come here, making such a scene, to defend him?” “What,” I let out a soft, amused laugh, “do you want half my life, or are you planning to break one of my legs to compensate for his?” I smiled, pulling my cashmere throw higher around me. James, my butler, immediately adjusted the indoor temperature. I looked at Scarlett. “Who does he think he is, that you’d storm in here on his behalf? Scarlett, have you forgotten? *I* was the one who stood by you and helped you get where you are today, not him. Are you truly prepared to turn against me for him, or are you here to end my life?” My voice was calm, unhurried. James, who had been keenly observing the tense atmosphere, instantly drew his pistol and aimed it at Scarlett’s head. Her lieutenants immediately tensed, ready for a fight, but Scarlett merely mirrored my smile. “Adrian, the days of brute force and open conflict are over. I don’t want to fight you,” Scarlett pushed away the divorce papers I’d prepared. “Divorce is a messy, brutal business; I won’t put us through it. But you *will* personally apologize to him. Otherwise, don’t blame me for getting ugly.” Scarlett rose from the sofa, walked up to James, grabbed his wrist, and pressed the gun to her own forehead. “Shoot me?” “You actually believe you’re on that level?” Scarlett yanked James’s wrist outward. A sharp, sickening crack echoed through the room. It was her right-hand man who let out a choked cry, as a fruit knife, that had been on my table, now lodged itself precisely in the center of his thigh. I met Scarlett’s incredulous stare, and smiled. “Scarlett, my people don’t fight back out of respect for me. But that doesn’t mean,” I walked up to Scarlett, gently taking her hand and prying it from James’s wrist, “you get to touch my people.” I understood then. Our relationship had reached its end. When the doctor was setting James’s bones, he was still fuming. “Young Master, you went through so much with that Scarlett girl. And now, you’re just going to stand by and watch others walk all over you?”

I didn’t answer. My phone buzzed with a new friend request. The profile picture was unmistakable. It was a photo of Leo and Scarlett kissing. I accepted the request. Immediately, a voice message came through. “Adrian, I told you Scarlett wouldn’t let you get away with it. Breaking your butler’s hand is just a little warning.” “Scarlett said she wants you to apologize to me in person.” “I’ll be waiting.” “Everyone says Scarlett loves you more than life itself, but I’m curious to see just how much,” Leo sent a few more photos. “Which bed do you think is best?” “Scarlett said the most dangerous place is always the safest. So, as soon as I’m out of the hospital tomorrow, I’m moving into your place, the one you share with Scarlett.” “That room no one is ever allowed into? I’m coming for it.” Listening to Leo’s voice, I looked up at the giant wedding photo displayed in the hall. It felt like a cruel joke. The dagger I was idly twirling in my hand found its mark, piercing the smiling Scarlett’s eyes in the photo. “Utterly disgusting.” I stepped out of the great hall to see Scarlett overseeing the delivery of a bed from a truck, instructing her men to carry it inside. We collided, and for once, Scarlett’s expression stiffened. I leaned against the doorway, listening to Leo’s joyful voice. “Scarlett, why aren’t you coming in?” Then, he turned, his eyes meeting mine. “Oh, if it isn’t Adrian,” Leo slung his arm around Scarlett’s, a defiant smirk on his face. “Are you here to welcome me?” “Have you decided to apologize yet?” I watched Leo’s brazenness, and the subtle indulgence in Scarlett’s eyes. A dense, prickly pain bloomed in my chest. Before I could respond, Scarlett spoke for him. “The doctor said Leo needs rest,” her voice, when she spoke his name, was incredibly soft. “You have a nutritionist anyway, it’s just one more mouth to feed. Adrian, don’t miss this opportunity I’m giving you.” I couldn’t quite fathom it. Scarlett. What made her so certain? That I would meekly accept her terms, that I would repeatedly compromise my principles and boundaries for her. I listened to Scarlett’s self-assured tone and laughed. My laughter was joined by James, who was having the damaged wedding photo carried away, asking me: “Young Master, where should this go?” I saw Scarlett’s face tighten. I pointed to a nearby trash bin. “Have it shredded. And then dispose of it.” James nodded, sending someone to fetch the scissors. But Scarlett called out to James, then walked up to me. “What kind of childish tantrum are you throwing now, Adrian?” “Adrian,” Scarlett’s voice turned cold. “I told you, this whole situation is your fault to begin with. Me helping Leo recover is a way for you to gain some good karma. Don’t be ungrateful!” “That’s right, Adrian.” Leo followed, stepping closer. “Scarlett told me everything. You were responsible for Scarlett’s and your child’s death. The spiritual advisor said if you want to have a child, you need to make amends. You’re not appreciating Scarlett’s kindness, and you keep creating more trouble. You’re practically driving Scarlett away.” Leo’s words were like a needle piercing my heart, tearing open a wound that had just begun to scab over, making it fester anew. I looked at Leo’s triumphant face, then at Scarlett, who was about to try and silence him. I grabbed Leo by his hair, laughing. “Who gave you the nerve to speak to me like that?” Before Leo could beg for mercy, I dragged him, slamming his head hard against the solid wooden door. A muffled *thud* echoed, followed by Leo’s scream. Scarlett grabbed my hand, stopping me from hitting him again. “Enough.” Scarlett looked at me. “Leo is young, and he speaks without thinking! But he’s not entirely wrong. How much more trouble are you going to cause, Adrian?”

I stared at Scarlett, utterly disbelieving. It was *her* who had muscled in on someone else’s territory, leading to our child and her being ambushed. I had stormed into enemy territory, disregarding all danger, to take down their leader, saving her but losing our child in the process. It was *her* who, afterwards, knelt before me, slapping herself 99 times, crying and kowtowing. “Adrian!” Her face was swollen from the blows, blood mixed with nosebleed smeared all over, her voice thick with sobs. “If I, Scarlett, ever betray you in this life! May I be struck down by lightning!” “I, Scarlett!” “Will be Adrian’s loyal dog!” Scarlett’s vows still echoed in my ears. She had ordered all news to be suppressed, forbidding anyone from discussing our child, understanding it was my forbidden topic. We had a silent agreement, yet we both still prayed for the child. And now. I looked at Scarlett’s face, released Leo, and watched as she visibly relaxed, her tone softening slightly. “Adrian, your temper is—” I plunged a dagger into Scarlett’s brow bone, and smiled. “Scarlett, those who betray a true heart must swallow a thousand needles. This is the first!” The dagger pierced her flesh, then pulled free. Blood splattered across my face. I watched the medal on Scarlett’s brow vanish, replaced by raw, gruesome flesh. I curved a mocking smile, but Leo violently shoved me. I staggered backward. When I looked up, I met Leo’s hateful eyes. “How dare you hurt her?” The next second. I walked toward Leo, raised my hand, and punched him squarely in the face. “If you actually had any guts, you wouldn’t just be a kept man.” “Either impress me,” I grabbed Leo’s hair, kicking him in the knee until he dropped to his knees, looking up at me, “and make Scarlett divorce me, then become her next husband.” “Or,” I bent down, leaning close to Leo, a smile spreading across my face, “just wait for the day I destroy you.” Leo’s eyes were red from crying, his body trembling like a cornered rabbit, but his gaze remained defiant. “If you’ve got the guts, just kill me!” “If you don’t kill me, I’ll never leave Scarlett!” Leo’s tears caught the light of the setting sun. “I’ll be with Scarlett forever.” I froze. I remembered that year, when I was sixteen, my father was ambushed and fell into the sea. My mother gave her life to protect me, pushing me to shore. The sunset was stained crimson with blood. It was Scarlett who waited on the shore, with the fearless courage of a young girl, forging a path through hell for me to survive. It was Scarlett, with the scar above her brow a badge of courage, and the gruesome wound on her back, who had crashed directly into my heart, shouting: “Young Master!” “Run!” I was terrified, but I still rushed headfirst into that sea of blood, fighting alongside Scarlett until today. Scarlett shoved me away with force. Blood still streamed from her brow, running down her eyelashes like tears of blood, dripping onto my heart. “Adrian,” Scarlett winced, closing one eye. “You truly disappoint me.” “I’m not divorcing you because of love.” Scarlett pulled Leo into her arms. “It’s only because,” Scarlett said, “your parents were kind to me, and we’ve shared life-or-death moments. Don’t push my patience any further, or you *will* regret it!” Leo sobbed in her arms, crying out, “Scarlett! I don’t want to live here! I don’t!” “I’m scared!” Leo cried, clutching her shirt, his voice hysterical. “I don’t want to live with this lunatic! He’s going to kill me, he’s going to kill me!”

The air thickened, suffocating. I almost saw my sixteen-year-old self, just as frantic, pushing Scarlett away, only to be held close as she whispered, “Don’t be afraid, I’m here.” Scarlett held Leo, gently stroking his back, murmuring. “Don’t be afraid.” “I’m here.” “I’m here,” Scarlett’s eyes met mine, wary and defiant. “I won’t let you hurt Leo. If you won’t agree, then don’t blame me.” The day Scarlett had all her belongings moved out, she took Leo to the West Indies. Leo mentioned wanting an island of his own, so Scarlett, without a second thought, bought him one. She took Leo to Iceland to chase the Northern Lights. Leo posted photos on Ins of the sapphire Scarlett bought him, even snapping a picture of a star with the caption: [From now on, whenever I look up, there will be a star just for me. Scarlett and Leo, a romance for life.] Scarlett’s love was passionate and overt, her affections never hidden; she wanted the whole world to know. I watched Scarlett’s blatant favoritism towards Leo. I looked at the villa, now largely empty, and the plain silver ring on my ring finger, the one Scarlett had ordered that year for 520 dollars. I smiled. “James.” My butler poured me another cup of tea. I spoke softly: “If I’m not mistaken, the largest supplier for Scarlett Inc. should be one who owes a debt of gratitude to my parents.” James immediately placed a contract in front of me. “Young Master.” He pointed to the clauses within. “Your father and mother dedicated their lives to you. These were all paths they paved for your future.” I gazed at the document, recalling the sunsets in the West Indies, the Northern Lights in Iceland, and that star. I dialed Scarlett’s number, but it was busy. I tried her SnapChat video call. Finally, Leo’s bare, red-marked torso appeared on screen. “What do you want?” “Scarlett’s in the shower.” Leo’s camera panned towards the bathroom, the steamy glass hinting at something intimate. “I thought you’d understand Scarlett’s attitude by now. Why are you still clinging on?” Leo sat on the bed, deliberately biting his lip. “Actually, there’s something I shouldn’t tell you, but I don’t think keeping it a secret is a good idea either.” “Adrian.” “Guess why Scarlett loves me and not you?” The video call ended. I sat in the living room, feeling the air tighten around my throat, then noticed my heart beating erratically. I dialed a second number. Scarlett and Leo hosted a gala that made local headlines. Everyone said Leo had finally achieved his wish, becoming Scarlett’s partner. No one dared to call him a sugar baby anymore. Instead, they respectfully addressed him as: “Mr. Leo.” The more sycophantic guests would even smile and say, “Ms. Scarlett, you two are a perfect match.” In the ballroom. Leo, arm-in-arm with Scarlett, ascended the stage. Under the glare of the spotlights, they truly looked like a prince and princess from a fairytale. Their mere presence brought a thunderous applause. “Tonight, I want to use this occasion,” Scarlett looked at Leo tenderly, “to introduce him to everyone.” “He, Leo—” The main doors were violently flung open. Countless men in black suits streamed into the ballroom. The leader, holding a stack of debt papers, threw them directly at Scarlett’s face. “You’re Scarlett, right?” Scarlett looked utterly bewildered, her fury reaching its peak. Just as she was about to call security, she realized there wasn’t a single one of her own people in the entire ballroom. “The debt you owe,” the man pressed a gun to the still-unhealed scar on Scarlett’s brow, and smiled, “it’s time to pay.” The bandage on her brow began to seep blood. The scene erupted into chaos. Screams pierced the air. Someone shouted, “What the hell is going on?! Isn’t today Ms. Scarlett’s big announcement for her boyfriend?”

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On my wedding day, my fiancé died in a horrific car crash on his way to pick me up. I became a widow, and the child in my belly, a posthumous orphan. After that devastating blow, I developed a severe psychological illness. Countless times, I yearned to end it all, but everyone pleaded with me to hold on for the sake of my unborn child. On the day of the funeral, my brother-in-law and his wife, who lived overseas, returned to pay their respects. Staring at his face, an identical copy of my late husband’s, I repeatedly fell into a daze. But then, I overheard a conversation outside my mother-in-law’s bedroom: “You faked your death and fled your own wedding for this woman? Mia is carrying your child, Julian! Did you put on this whole act just to bring that conniving vixen home?” After a long pause, my brother-in-law’s voice finally came, soft and quiet. “Valentina has a terminal illness. Doctors say she has six months, at most. Once those six months are up, Mia will be due, and everything will go back to normal. We’ll be a happy family of three again.” In that moment, a chilling truth pierced through me: My husband wasn’t dead at all. This so-called brother-in-law was my husband, Julian! I fought to control the violent tremors shaking my body. I typed a frantic message to Liam, my brother, who worked for an overseas covert operations unit. “Liam, help me stage an accident! So he wants to fake his death? I’ll give Julian a taste of his own medicine!”

My hands wouldn’t stop shaking even after I sent the message. The conversation inside the room continued. “Is this really fair to Mia? If it weren’t for her child, she would have followed you to the grave. She’s so distraught, a ghost of herself, barely touching her food – it was killing me to watch her.” Julian sighed deeply. “But Valentina only has six months. This is her only wish. I can’t let her down.” “As for Mia, we have a lifetime together. I’ll make it up to her later, Mom, don’t worry…” My heart clenched, a vice grip squeezing the life out of me. Searing pain ripped through every fiber of my being, leaving me breathless. I stumbled back to my bedroom, my knees buckling as I collapsed onto the floor. Just then, Liam’s call came through. “Mia, what’s wrong? What happened? Julian’s dead, isn’t he?” I wanted to say something, anything, but the moment I opened my mouth, tears streamed down my face, unstoppable. Yes, in the eyes of the world, Julian was dead. I understood Liam’s confusion. Even I hadn’t imagined Julian would fake his own death, and the reason was for another woman. Though I said nothing, Liam on the other end must have sensed my distress. After a long silence, he spoke softly. “I’ll send a plane to pick you up the night after tomorrow. I’ll arrange everything else.” After he hung up, I remained frozen, phone still in hand. Just then, a soft knock came at the door. Standing outside was my brother-in-law, holding a glass of milk. Or rather, Julian, holding a glass of milk. “Mia, what’s wrong? Why are you sitting on the floor? Are you crying? Are you thinking about Julian again?” For the past half-month since Julian returned, posing as my brother-in-law, he had been nothing but kind to me, seemingly treating me as his deceased brother’s wife. Countless times, faced with his concern, I felt a familiar haze. Mrs. Hastings always attributed my daze to my profound grief for Julian. I quickly locked my phone screen, forcing a shaky smile. “Nothing, just felt a bit unwell suddenly. Lost my footing for a second.” Julian visibly relaxed, placing the milk aside. He carefully helped me up from the floor. “This little one, so disobedient. Just wait until they’re born, your uncle will have a word with them.” “Come on, get up. I warmed some milk for you. Drink it and get some rest. Don’t think too much. If Julian saw you like this, he wouldn’t be at peace.” Hearing that name on his lips, I finally couldn’t take it anymore. I looked up, meeting his eyes, and questioned him, word by word. “Are you really not Julian?”

Julian froze, then chuckled softly, gently stroking my head. “Don’t be silly. How could I be Julian? Drink your milk and go to sleep. Tomorrow, I’ll take you for your prenatal check-up. A tummy ache isn’t a small matter.” “This is the only bloodline Julian left in this world. I have to make sure they arrive safely.” I lowered my gaze, refusing to look at the fake concern in his eyes. “Please leave. I’m a bit tired and want to rest.” It wasn’t until the soft click of the door closing that the tears I’d held back all evening finally burst forth. Julian and I met at our university’s freshman orientation. He fell for me at first sight, pursuing me relentlessly. We naturally fell in love. Two years after graduation, Julian gave me a grand proposal. I still remember it vividly: fireworks exploded all around us, their brilliance reflected in his eyes, but his gaze was even more captivating than the dazzling display above. While planning our wedding, I discovered I was pregnant. Julian had been overjoyed. “The baby’s timing is perfect! They’re here to celebrate Mommy and Daddy getting married. Mia, I’m the happiest man in the world.” To this day, I still didn’t understand why Julian, who had cherished me for six whole years, would cheat, even going so far as to fake his death to avoid our wedding. The next morning, Julian knocked on my door early. “Mia, it’s time for your prenatal check-up today. Are you ready?” But as we were about to leave, Valentina’s voice called out from behind us. “Julian, I’m not feeling so well today. Could you stay home with me?” Hearing Valentina’s voice, Julian didn’t even glance at me. He rushed directly to her side. “Did you forget to take your medicine again? If you’re not feeling well, you should lie in bed. Don’t walk around, what if you faint?” After he finished speaking, Julian turned and looked at me. “I’m so sorry, Mia. Your sister-in-law isn’t feeling well, so I probably can’t go to the hospital with you.” “Don’t worry, the driver is waiting outside. He’ll get you to the hospital safely. I’ve already made arrangements with the doctor, just go straight there.” I closed my eyes, trying to hold back the tears threatening to spill. When I reopened them, I didn’t miss the fleeting flicker of triumph on Valentina’s tanned face. I didn’t say a word, just nodded and walked straight out of the house. The dull thud of the door closing echoed behind me. My hand instinctively rubbed my belly, and tears finally began to fall, thick and fast. Mike, the driver, delivered me to the hospital on time. I completed all my examinations as instructed by the doctor. Julian had previously warned Mike and the doctor that if I didn’t show up, he’d get suspicious. I sat on a hospital bench, meticulously examining the ultrasound report. In the black and white image, there was a tiny circle, the size of a peanut. The doctor said, that was my child. But I couldn’t accept that my child would have a faithless father. I fiercely wiped away my tears and registered at a different hospital. This was Julian’s family’s private hospital. If I had the procedure here, Julian would surely find out. I called Mike, telling him I wanted to go shopping alone and that he could go back first. I hid behind the hospital’s main entrance until Mike’s car disappeared from my sight. Only then did I step out and hail a taxi to another hospital. Before entering the operating room, my phone buzzed with a video message. The video was half an hour long, showing Julian in a frenzy of passion. I had never seen him so out of control. For six years of our relationship, Julian had always been gentle, even in bed, always careful not to hurt me. It was then I realized he wasn’t inherently reserved; the one who ignited his passion was never me. I watched that video, almost masochistically, wanting to see the Julian I never knew. I don’t know how long I watched, but then a nurse walked up to me. “Ms. Mia, are you alright? It’s time for your surgery.” As the video played on, I had been crying harder and harder. It wasn’t until the nurse spoke that I realized I was trembling uncontrollably, my hand clutching the phone shaking violently. And I made a shameful discovery: even now, I still loved Julian.

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The year Julian and I were truly, irrevocably in love. For me, he took three blades: one to his brow, another to his ankle, a third slicing deep into his back. Everyone said Julian loved me like his own life. Until another woman showed up, heavily pregnant. “You must be Scarlett, right?” The woman tossed a stack of photos onto my face. “Julian stopped loving you ages ago. I suggest you be smart and get lost.” In the pictures, Julian’s eyes held a gentle softness. I watched the rain intensify, then lifted my hand. The woman’s shriek, muffled by the downpour, left a chilling promise behind. “Julian won’t let you get away with this!” But I merely stared, cold and unfeeling, at Julian who sat across from me, ready to make a spectacle of demanding justice. “Sign the papers.” “You disgust me.” “Scarlett!” Julian sat opposite me. Behind him stood Jax, his right-hand man, whom Julian had propped up over the past two years, along with bodyguards and dozens of men surrounding my spacious living room. It wasn’t a negotiation; it was a blatant intimidation. I watched Julian, his anger barely contained, tap the table. “She’s still in the ICU.” He raised an eyebrow, the strategically placed lighting highlighting his brow ridge, that scar strikingly prominent. “She’s innocent,” Julian’s voice was low, laced with a suffocating pressure. “She’s only twenty, and you almost ended her life at twenty. Do you know what the doctor told me?” “The doctor said she might never be a mother.” Julian’s voice blended with the rhythmic drumming of rain against the window. It brought back the woman’s dying shriek that day. “Julian won’t let you get away with this!” “So,” I met Julian’s furious gaze, handing my hot tea to Mr. Davies. “You’ve gone to all this trouble, made this grand entrance, to stand up for her?” “What,” I chuckled, finding it amusing. “Do you want half my life, or are you planning to take my womb to make up for her lost motherhood?” I smiled, pulling the blanket higher around me. Mr. Davies immediately adjusted the indoor temperature. I looked at Julian. “Who is she to make you come here and demand justice from me? Julian, have you forgotten that I’m the one who stood by you until today, not her? Are you planning to break ties with me for her, or are you here to end my life today?” My voice was calm, unhurried. Mr. Davies, who had been observing the tension, immediately drew a pistol and aimed it at Julian’s head. Julian’s right-hand men instantly tensed, but Julian simply smiled back at me. “Scarlett, we’re past the days of bloodshed. I don’t want to fight with you.” Julian pushed away the divorce papers I had prepared. “Divorce is destructive, I won’t do it. But you must apologize to her in person, or don’t blame me for getting ugly.” Julian rose from the sofa and walked over to Mr. Davies, grabbing his wrist and pressing the gun against his forehead. “You’d shoot me?” “You’re not worthy.” Julian yanked Mr. Davies’s wrist outward. A crisp snap of bone echoed, followed by a sharp cry from Jax. A fruit knife from my table landed precisely in the middle of Jax’s thigh. I met Julian’s incredulous stare and smiled. “Julian, my people don’t resist you out of respect for me. But that doesn’t mean,” I walked up to Julian, took his hand, and slowly, deliberately moved it away, “you can lay a hand on my people.” I understood then. Julian and I were done. While the doctor was setting Mr. Davies’s bone, he was still seething. “Miss Scarlett, you went through so much hardship with that Julian back then. Are you just going to let others walk all over us now?” 2 I didn’t answer. My phone buzzed with a new friend request. The profile picture was prominent. It was a photo of the woman kissing Julian. I accepted her request, and she immediately sent a voice message. “Scarlett, I told you Julian wouldn’t let you get away with it. Breaking your butler’s hand is just a small warning.” “Julian said he wants you to apologize to me in person.” “I’ll be waiting.” “Everyone outside says Julian loves you like his own life. I’d like to see how much love that is,” the woman sent a few more photos. “Which bed do you think is suitable?” “Julian said the most dangerous place is the safest. When I’m discharged tomorrow, I’m moving into your and Julian’s house.” “That door no one is allowed to enter? I’m coming right in.” Listening to her voice, I looked up at the giant wedding photo displayed in the living room, feeling only mockery. The dagger I was idly toying with precisely pierced the smiling Julian’s eye in the photo. “So dirty.” Stepping out of the living room, I saw Julian and his men unloading a bed from a truck, then instructing them to carry it inside. We ran right into each other. Julian’s expression stiffened for a rare moment. I leaned against the doorway, listening to Autumn’s joyful voice. “Julian, why aren’t you coming in?” Then, Autumn turned and met my eyes. “Oh, it’s the sister, isn’t it?” Autumn linked her arm through Julian’s, a defiant glint in her eyes. “Are you here to welcome me, sister?” “Have you decided to apologize?” Watching Autumn’s arrogance and the pampering in Julian’s eyes, a sharp, pervasive ache pierced my heart. Before I could respond, Julian spoke for her. “The doctor said Autumn needs rest,” Julian’s voice was gentle as he spoke her name. “You already have a nutritionist anyway, it’s just one more mouth to feed, Scarlett. Don’t miss the chance I’m giving you.” I couldn’t quite understand. Julian. What made him so certain. That I would be submissive, that I would repeatedly compromise my principles and boundaries for him. I listened to Julian’s self-righteous voice and chuckled. My laughter mingled with Mr. Davies’s voice as he had someone take down the wedding photo with the missing eye, asking me. “Miss Scarlett, where should this go?” I saw Julian’s face darken. I pointed to a nearby trash can. “Have it shredded and thrown away.” Mr. Davies nodded, sending someone for scissors. Julian, however, stopped Mr. Davies and walked up to me. “What kind of tantrum are you throwing now?” “Scarlett,” Julian’s voice turned cold. “I told you, this whole thing was your fault to begin with. My taking care of Autumn is accumulating good karma for you. Don’t be ungrateful!” “That’s right, sister.” Autumn followed him. “Julian told me everything. You lost your baby because of your reckless lifestyle, and the master said you need to accumulate good karma if you ever want to have a child. You don’t appreciate Julian’s kindness and keep creating trouble. You’re forcing Julian away!” Autumn’s words were like a needle piercing my heart, tearing open my scabbed wound, making it fester and weep anew. I looked at Autumn’s triumphant face, then turned to intercept Julian’s attempt to silence her, grabbing Autumn’s hair instead and laughing. “Who gave you the nerve to speak to me like that?” Before Autumn could beg for mercy, I dragged her and slammed her hard against the solid wooden door, producing a dull thud. Autumn shrieked. Julian grabbed my hand, stopping me from continuing. “Enough.” Julian looked at me. “Autumn is just young and speaks without thinking! But she’s not wrong. How long will you keep causing trouble?” I stared at Julian in disbelief. It was he who had encroached on someone else’s business, been ambushed, and I, ignoring the danger, rushed into enemy territory to take down the opponent’s leader. It was after I saved him that I lost our child. He knelt before me, slapped himself 99 times, and cried as he knocked his head against the ground. “Scarlett!” His face was swollen from the slaps, blood mixed with nosebleeds smeared all over it, his voice thick with tears. “If I, Julian, ever wrong you in this life! May the heavens smite me!” “I, Julian!” “In this life!” “Will be Scarlett’s dog!” Julian’s vows still echoed in my ears. He ordered all information sealed, forbidding anyone from discussing my child behind my back, understanding that the child was my taboo. We had tacitly avoided the topic, yet we had both prayed for the child. Now. I met Julian’s gaze, releasing Autumn. He seemed to sigh in relief, his tone softening slightly. “Scarlett, your temper—” I plunged a knife into Julian’s brow bone and smiled. “Julian, those who betray true love must swallow a thousand needles. This is the first!” The dagger pierced the flesh, then was pulled out. Blood splattered on my face. I watched the ‘medal’ on Julian’s brow vanish, replaced by grotesque, bloody flesh, and curled my lips into a mocking smile. Autumn then violently shoved me. I stumbled backward. When I looked up again, I met Autumn’s furious eyes. “How dare you hurt him?” The next second. I walked toward Autumn, raised my hand, and slapped her across the face. “If you really have any capability, don’t just be a trophy girlfriend.” “Either impress me,” I grabbed Autumn’s hair, kicking her knee, making her fall to the ground and look up at me, “make Julian divorce me, and become the next Mrs. Julian.” “Or else,” I leaned down, my smile close to Autumn’s ear, “just wait to be played to death by me.” Autumn’s eyes were red from crying, her body trembling like a dying deer, yet her gaze was defiant. “If you’re so capable, then kill me!” “If you don’t kill me, I’ll never leave Julian!” Autumn’s tears reflected the light of the setting sun. “I want to be with Julian forever.” I froze. I remembered that year, when I was sixteen, my father was ambushed and fell into the sea, my mother sacrificed her life to get me ashore. The sunset was stained crimson with blood. It was Julian who waited for me on the shore, with the fearless courage of a young man, he carved a path of life from death for me. It was Julian, with the scar on his brow and the grotesque wounds on his back, who crashed straight into my heart, shouting. “Miss Scarlett!” “Run!” I was panicked, but still plunged into the bloodied sea, and together with Julian, we fought to get to where we are today. Julian shoved me hard. Blood still flowed from his brow, sliding down his eyelashes like tears of blood, dripping onto my heart. “Scarlett,” Julian closed one eye in pain. “You truly disappoint me.” “I’m not divorcing you because of love.” Julian held Autumn in his arms. “It’s only because,” Julian said, “your parents were kind to me, and we’ve been through life-and-death situations together. Don’t push my patience any further, or you will regret it!” Autumn cried in his arms, screaming, “Julian! I don’t want to live here! I don’t!” “I’m scared!” Autumn cried, clutching his collar, hysterical. “I don’t want to live with this lunatic! She’ll kill me, she’ll kill me!” The air became still. I seemed to see my sixteen-year-old self, also frantic, pushing Julian away, only to be held close as he gently soothed me, “Don’t be afraid, I’m here.” Julian held Autumn, gently stroking her back, saying. “Don’t be afraid.” “I’m here.” “I’m here,” Julian met my eyes with a wary gaze. “I won’t let you hurt Autumn. Since you’re unwilling, then don’t blame me.” The day Julian had all his belongings moved out, he took Autumn to a secluded island retreat. Autumn said she wanted a private island in her name, so Julian spent a fortune and bought her one. He took Autumn to Iceland to chase the Northern Lights. Autumn posted photos on Ins of the diamond the size of a pigeon’s egg Julian bought her, and even captioned a picture of a star. [From now on, whenever I look up, there will be a star just for me. Autumn & Julian, a romance for life.] Julian’s love came fierce and flamboyant, never hidden, as if he wanted the whole world to know. I observed Julian’s favoritism towards Autumn. Looking at the villa, now largely emptied, and the plain silver ring on my ring finger, which Julian had ordered for 520 (a symbol of “I love you” in Chinese numerology) that year, I smiled. “Mr. Davies.” My butler refilled my hot tea. I spoke softly, “If I’m not mistaken, the largest supplier for Julian Inc. should be honoring my parents’ kindness.” Mr. Davies immediately placed a stack of agreements before me. “Miss Scarlett.” He pointed to the clauses. “Your parents dedicated their lives to you; these are all paths they paved for your future.” I looked at the contents, remembering the sunset at the secluded island retreat and the Northern Lights in Iceland, and that star. I dialed Julian’s number. The phone rang busy. I tried FaceTiming him. Finally, Autumn appeared on screen, wearing a sexy nightgown, asking me. “What do you want?” “Julian’s in the shower.” Autumn angled the camera towards the bathroom. The misty glass was imbued with a hint of intimacy. “I thought you’d understand Julian’s attitude by now. Why are you still clinging on?” Autumn sat on the bed, revealing red marks on her neck. “Actually, there’s something I shouldn’t tell you, but I guess keeping it a secret isn’t good either.” “Scarlett.” “Guess why Julian loves me and not you?” The video call ended. I sat in the living room, feeling the air constrict my throat, then noticed my heart beating abnormally. I dialed a second number. Julian and Autumn’s gala dinner became local trending news. Everyone said Autumn had finally gotten her wish, becoming the woman by Julian’s side. No one who saw Autumn dared to call her a trophy girlfriend anymore. Instead, they respectfully called her. [Miss Autumn.] Those who were sweet-talkers would even smile and say, [Mr. Julian and you are so well-matched.] In the banquet hall. Autumn, her arm around Julian, walked onto the stage. Under the spotlights, they looked like a prince and princess from a fairytale. Just by standing there, they drew thunderous applause. “Today, using this occasion,” Julian looked at Autumn tenderly, “I want to introduce her to everyone.” “She, Autumn—” The grand doors were violently kicked open. Countless men in black suits poured into the banquet hall. The leader, holding a stack of debt papers, slapped them directly onto Julian’s face. “Julian, right?” Julian’s face was a mask of confusion, his anger reaching its peak. He was about to call security when he realized there wasn’t a single one of his own men in the entire banquet hall. “The debt you owe,” the man pressed a gun against Julian’s still-unhealed brow scar and smiled, “it’s time to pay.” Blood seeped from the bandage on his brow. The scene erupted in chaos, screams echoing everywhere. Someone even shouted, “What the hell is going on?! Isn’t today Mr. Julian’s big day to introduce his girlfriend?” “Who are you people?!” “How dare you point a gun at Mr. Julian? You have a death wish!” “Who doesn’t know that Julian Inc. rules this entire city?” Someone, a sycophant, spoke up for Julian. “Be careful, all ten of your lives won’t be enough!” The man paused his finger-pointing, enraged shouting at the stage. His eyes almost popped out of his head. Then, a scream tore through the entire banquet hall. A dagger pierced the man’s arm, perfectly still, suspended with his frozen movement. Drip, drip, drip. It was the sound of death. The man trembled, a wet stain spreading on his pants, and choked out, “Sc-Scarlett, it’s Scarlett.” I emerged from behind the stage, watching the man’s gun pressed against Julian’s brow, and Julian’s enraged face. I twirled the dagger in my hand, smiling as I asked Julian. “Julian.” “Is the private island in the Caribbean beautiful?” I weighed the cold blade of the dagger, looking at Julian. “Autumn & Julian, it sounds quite romantic, doesn’t it?” “And that diamond the size of a pigeon’s egg.” The dagger pointed towards Autumn. Julian, who had been silently fuming, finally couldn’t hold back. He roared at me. “Scarlett, what kind of crazy stunt are you pulling now?!” “What do you mean by bringing these people here? Are you planning to challenge me, to create a lose-lose situation?” Julian still thought I was acting out of jealousy. “I can’t stand your behavior. Look at you, you don’t act like a woman at all. A woman should be delicate and submissive, but you, always fighting and shouting, what kind of image is that?” I listened to Julian’s accusations and realized, surprisingly, that my heart no longer reacted violently because of him. Even facing Julian’s cold sarcasm, my heart was as calm as stagnant water. “Scarlett!” Julian took my silence as confirmation that I had been hit where it hurt. “I can overlook this, but if you continue to make a scene, don’t blame me for abandoning our past.” Autumn, wearing a bathrobe, sat on the bed, her smile poisonous, seeping through the screen and crawling up my skin, along my nerves, into my veins. “Do you know why Julian loves me and not you?” “Scarlett.” Autumn leaned closer to the screen, her voice soft, yet it made my soul tremble. “Because, to prove his own strength wasn’t lacking, the first big deal he ever made, the client demanded you be ‘delivered’ before they’d sign.” Autumn’s voice coiled around my throat like a venomous snake. “Julian said, the child you always thought was his, actually never was.” “And because of that, whenever you two were intimate, he would always remember how truly ‘dirty’ you were.” “Scarlett, you lost from the very beginning.” “If Julian truly loved you, how could he have let someone else sleep with you, let you carry another man’s child? Even that ambush, all of it was designed by Julian, just to get rid of that bastard.” That bastard. It had coexisted with me inside my body for nearly six months. I recalled Julian’s lack of enthusiasm back then, remembered how he insisted on an amniocentesis even when prenatal checks were normal. It wasn’t because he was worried about the baby’s health; it was for a DNA paternity test. From start to finish. It was all a lie. Only, Julian hadn’t anticipated that my parents had left me a fallback, a well-paved road for my future. Now. I watched Julian grab the gun in the man’s hand and smiled. “Do you know who I am? I’m your master’s husband, damn it! One word from me and I can cripple you! You damn useless piece of trash, get out of the way!” But I had already walked onto the stage. Ignoring Julian’s frantic outburst, I grasped the man’s hand on the gun, shifting it a few inches from Julian’s forehead. Julian thought I was trying to disarm him, and just as he let out a sigh of relief. [Bang!] The bullet whistled past Julian’s ear, a stinging pain slicing through his lobe. A bead of blood fell. I looked at Julian’s stunned face and smiled. “Julian, why do you think I’d want something so dirty?” I picked up the pistol, toying with it in my hand. “Debts must be paid.” I threw the stack of debt papers at Julian’s feet. “Pay your debts or make a wager with me.” “You can only choose one.” I was never one for a soft heart. Growing up, my parents taught me to survive in a cutthroat world, to protect myself first, and only then could I afford to love others. Since he wasn’t worth it. It was time to cut ties cleanly. I watched Julian’s incredulous face, pointing the gun at Autumn. “If you don’t wager, then I’ll cripple her.” [Bang!] A single shot. Autumn shrieked in terror, crying out, “Julian! I’m scared!” Autumn cried until she choked, calling out to Julian. “Julian, I don’t want to be here!” “Julian, I’m so scared!” As always, weak. As always, deserving of pity. Julian’s heart, as expected, ached. He called out my name. “Scarlett, whatever it is, deal with me. Don’t involve innocents.” “If we’re to wager,” Julian stared fixedly at me, “what do you want to bet on?” “We bet on,” my voice was flat, “Death Darts.” The year Julian and I first met, because of darts, my father held my hand, teaching me to aim at the target. But Julian suddenly ran out, holding my favorite cotton candy, calling my name. “Miss Scarlett.” My thoughts distracted, the dart hit the fish tank next to the target. The fish tank shattered, and my father made me kneel on a board of nails for an entire night. Julian stayed with me the whole night. “Miss Scarlett,” Julian said, his eyes red. “It’s all my fault. I was wrong.” Now. I had a target prepared. I told Julian, “If you lose, you tell everyone the truth about that year yourself.” Julian’s eyes flickered. “Otherwise.” My smile was cruel. “Don’t forget who gave you everything you have now.” “My not holding a grudge doesn’t mean I’m easily bullied,” I took a dart, having them blindfold me. “But if I do hold a grudge, Julian, you’re not as crazy as I am.” Having lost all my external support, I was my own greatest strength. Julian stood a few steps away from me. He was still completely out of sorts. “Scarlett, you’re not the type to hold a grudge,” Julian was blindfolded. “I don’t understand the point of you doing all this.” The target wasn’t the target from that year. It was Mr. Davies and Autumn, standing opposite me. Mr. Davies called out to me. “Miss Scarlett, I trust you.” Autumn was sobbing, choked with tears. “Julian, can we please not bet? Please, no! I’m so scared!” The guests below became witnesses to the high-stakes gamble. Even those who had initially supported Julian sensed something was wrong and began whispering among themselves. “They used to say Mr. Julian actually rose to power thanks to the Scarlett family. I heard he was originally brought back from an orphanage by Mr. Scarlett to be Miss Scarlett’s little companion, and he just became her entire world.” “Goes to show, men can be far more calculating than women when it comes to power.” “Look at Julian these past few years; he’s aggressively suppressed the Scarlett family’s old guard, pushing his own people up, and keeping Scarlett confined at home. If it weren’t for this ugly scene, who knows if Scarlett would ever make a move.” “Yeah, those who betray true love must swallow a thousand needles. This is just the beginning!” I listened to the whispers around me, remembering Julian had made that same vow when he swore to love me forever. “Scarlett, those who betray true love must swallow a thousand needles! If I ever betray you, may I die a horrible death.” The dart was in my hand. Julian’s voice came from beside me. “Scarlett, can we really never go back?” I didn’t answer. I raised my hand. The referee began the countdown. “Three.” “Scarlett, I’ve always had you in my heart. I miss our time together.” “Two.” “How did we drift apart after things became stable?” “One.” “Scarlett, maybe if we had never truly had each other, we might still be the same as before.” “Start!” Holding the dart, before I threw it, I told Julian, “There are only two outcomes in this world: the right people live peacefully.” “The wrong ones.” The dart flew. “Should die!” The dart landed precisely in the apple on Mr. Davies’s head. The scene erupted in an uproar, and a woman’s terrified scream echoed. I ripped off the blindfold and saw Autumn lying in a pool of blood, clutching the wound on her head, crying out to Julian. “Julian!” “Save me!” “Julian!” Julian roughly discarded his blindfold and roared, “Impossible!” “What’s impossible?” The referee played a slow-motion replay of the dart’s trajectory. It showed Autumn, out of fear, deliberately ducking from the dart, which caused her to get hurt. Ultimately, she didn’t trust Julian enough to fully surrender herself to him. I looked at Julian. “You lost.” “Will you tell them yourself, or should I?” Julian stared at me in a frenzy. “Scarlett, what do you want me to say?!” I clapped my hands. “Then I’ll say it for you.” A blurry video appeared before everyone. It was from before that bloody battle. Julian boarded the boat with us, exposed our location, then, with drugged soup, gave it to everyone to drink. That’s why my parents died tragically. That year. The Julian I saw on the shore at 16 wasn’t there to save me; he was there to kill me. Only. Julian hadn’t yet obtained the things my parents left for me, so he chose to share life and death with me. He used my most vulnerable moment to gain my true affections and we’ve supported each other until now. Julian, calculating every step, never expected me to investigate this far. The man who came with me, looking nonchalant, stared at Julian. “You designed that scheme back then, never thinking, did you?” The man removed his mask. It was Caleb, one of the companions my father had found for me. “I’m still alive.” “And.” “I’ve always been Julian Inc.’s largest supplier. Everything Julian Inc. has achieved today is because of me.” Caleb’s gaze at Julian was like looking at a dead thing. “I’ve been biding my time, waiting for this day.” “The debt you owe.” “It’s time to pay.” “Hands and feet are for walking and working. Since he’s a traitor, why keep them?” Mr. Davies handed me a dagger. I toyed with it, looking down at Julian. “Your hand and foot tendons, as compensation. Will you do it yourself, or shall I?” Julian’s face was filled with indignation. Then, as if realizing something, his expression shifted to comprehension. “No wonder you suddenly changed. No wonder you, who always obeyed me, suddenly became so cold, even wanting to divorce me repeatedly.” “It’s because of him, isn’t it? I always knew you liked Caleb more when we were kids. He outshone me in everything, and was so attentive to you. Everyone praised you two as a match made in heaven. You only got with me later because Caleb was probably dead, right?” “You thought Caleb died in that war, so you reluctantly settled for me? Now that he’s back, you can’t wait to be with him, can you?!” Julian’s voice struck me as ludicrous. So ludicrous that I actually laughed out loud. “You’re quite right.” “I should have seen Caleb from the beginning, not you.” I twirled the dagger. As Julian wore an ‘I knew it’ expression, I plunged the knife into his ankle. Beneath the ‘medal’ he had earned for me, I ruthlessly tore off what was once *my* medal, telling him. “The third needle.” Then, swiftly and accurately, I struck with the second and third blades. My medals were mercilessly torn away. “The fourth needle.” Blood splattered. Julian endured it, not screaming in pain, though cold sweat soaked his hair. He forced a bitter smile, looking at me. “Scarlett, you’re heartless!” He was so weak, he could barely whisper my name. “You have no heart.” I didn’t respond. I took the wet wipe Mr. Davies offered, cleaned the blood from my hands, and tossed the wipe onto Julian’s face. “So dirty.” “Lock Julian and Autumn together. Don’t let them die.” I told Mr. Davies. “As for the grand gift I prepared, take it to them.” Autumn shrieked, yelling, “Why are you arresting me?!” “Scarlett, why are you arresting me?” I watched Autumn, frantic like a cornered animal, and my gaze shifted from her to Julian. I was also curious to see how Julian would feel, knowing his deepest feelings had been betrayed. Julian’s hands and feet were bandaged by a doctor. He leaned against the wall in the solitary room, his mind filled with Caleb’s meaningful smile before he and I left. As for feelings. How could there be no feelings? He couldn’t understand where things had gone wrong. Until Mr. Davies clapped his hands, and several servants entered with a projector and tools, then politely stated. “Mr. Julian.” “Miss Scarlett has prepared something for you. We hope you like it.” Then. Julian sat on the bed, watching the screen light up. It showed me sitting in the living room, dialing his number after finding he was busy, then FaceTiming him. Autumn appeared on screen, her smile radiant. “Scarlett, guess why Julian loves me and not you?” Autumn lowered her voice, but it still reached his ears. “Because Julian didn’t know when the things your parents left you would surface, and he was desperate to gain a firm foothold in this cutthroat world. To get something, you have to sacrifice something.” “So, your child,” Autumn smiled cruelly, “was the sacrifice.” Everything seemed to make sense. Everything seemed to be unveiled. All the riddles that had bound Julian were revealed. He finally understood why I had gone to such lengths. No wonder I brought up old matters. He watched me sitting in the living room, lost in thought, until I asked Mr. Davies. “Mr. Davies.” “Julian Inc.’s largest supplier should be honoring my parents’ kindness.” I pulled out the documents, called Caleb, met with Caleb, and together we investigated the truth of that year, setting this trap to lure him into it. Autumn, sitting silently beside him, trembling, watched Julian’s face darken bit by bit. When Julian clenched his fists, his gaze finally shifting from the screen to her, she even tried to explain. “It’s all fake!” “Fake?” Julian’s heart was wrung with pain, even speaking became difficult. A despair he had never known weighed him down, making every step excruciatingly hard. “Didn’t I tell you,” Julian’s eyes were red as he walked up to Autumn, “you could provoke her, and I would cover for you?” “But these things, you were supposed to keep them buried deep inside!” “Didn’t I say that?” Julian choked Autumn’s neck. “Didn’t I tell you she’s a lunatic, and no one can mess with her when she goes crazy?!” “Why did you provoke her?!” “Tell me!” “Ah!” Autumn was dragged up from the floor by Julian, her neck brutally squeezed. She frantically hit Julian, her face red as she looked at him. “You, you let go of me!” “Julian!” “You yourself said she was too dirty! What did I say wrong?” Autumn’s tears streamed down her face. “You told me Scarlett relied on you, but in the end, you relied entirely on Scarlett!” “You can’t even outplay one woman. What kind of man are you?!” I watched the monitor screen. Autumn was tormented until she was barely breathing, her body covered in fine needles. Julian sat beside her, counting. Mr. Davies stood behind me, looking puzzled. “Why the needles?” I remembered a popular saying online that year: [Those who betray true love must swallow a thousand needles.] I smiled and asked Julian. “Would you betray me?” That year, Julian’s ambition was too sharp, he offended many people. We lived day by day, hiding, but we were also dependent on each other. I leaned into Julian’s arms, smiling as I asked him. “Would you betray me?” Julian didn’t answer me. He only held me tighter, telling me. “If that day ever comes, I’ll swallow a thousand needles.” So, when I pierced his brow, it was my mark of his betrayal, my needle. Now, Julian sat in the solitary room, counting, I wondered if he, like me, remembered that thousand-needle vow from that year. I wasn’t sure. I turned off the monitor and asked Mr. Davies. “Where’s Caleb?” “In the back garden.” My mother loved orchids. Orchids are delicate and hard to care for. It was amazing that Caleb had actually managed to keep them alive, and even filled the back garden with them. He stood in the sunlight, gently tending to those flowers, just like when we were children, every birthday, Caleb would bring me a bouquet of flowers. “Miss Scarlett.” Caleb called out to me. “Look,” he pointed to the most abundant cluster of flowers. “The flowers are blooming.” Yes. The flowers were blooming. Everything was getting better. As Caleb and I went to visit my parents’ graves, Mr. Davies rushed up to me. “Julian wants to see you.” He told me. “Julian has gone mad.” “Then send him to a psychiatric hospital.” I turned to leave, but Mr. Davies added, “Julian says he has the remaining truth from that year, and he wants to tell you personally.” Rain poured outside. Raindrops tapped against the window. Julian sat across from me, just like that year, his eyes soft and longing, yet also like that day, he was here to demand justice for someone else. The rain intensified. I was the first to break the silence. “What do you need to tell me?” I wasn’t eager to see Julian again. My therapist said I needed to maintain absolute calm and peace. I didn’t want my life to be disturbed. Before agreeing to go abroad with Caleb, I sat here, asking Julian. “Perhaps, this will be our last meeting.” Julian’s eyes flickered, his gaze tinged with red. He pulled a small voice recorder from his pocket and played it in front of me. A familiar voice, accompanied by thunder, forcefully pierced my ears. My soul trembled. “Julian.”

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Heading to pick up a client, I tapped on my GPS. A sickeningly sweet, overly-familiar female voice cooed from the speaker. “Teeheeheehee, your little helper, Brianna, is excited to start this journey for two with you, almost like eloping, teehee!” I slammed on the brakes, hitting the steering wheel, as the voice continued its syrupy monologue. “There’s a cute little snack shop up ahead that Brianna just *adores*! Please, pretty please, get me some cookies?” I froze, listening to the GPS voice. I immediately called Julian, my husband. “Did you use the Porsche recently?” On the other end, Julian’s voice was calm and gentle. “My car broke down a few days ago, so I used it briefly. Why, what’s up?” I smiled, said it was nothing, and hung up. Then, I turned the car towards Julian’s company. I rarely went to Julian’s office, knowing that trust was paramount in a marriage. I didn’t want to suspect Julian, but that voice kept replaying in my mind. I sat in Julian’s office, asking HR to bring me all the new female employee files. Just then, Julian pushed open the door. “Audrey.” Julian sat opposite me, a playful smile on his face. “Playing detective, huh?” “Find anything?” “If you didn’t, you’ll have to make it up to me,” Julian leaned back, tapping the table with a teasing grin. “I want you to go skydiving with me.” I looked at Julian’s open, honest smile, and couldn’t help but wonder if I was being too narrow-minded. All the files HR provided turned up nothing. Not a single new employee named Brianna. Was I overthinking it, being too sensitive? I put the files down, meeting Julian’s mischievously teasing grin, and sighed. “Just a routine check.” I pushed the files towards him. “If you don’t like it, I won’t do it again.” Julian immediately put on a placating smile. “My wife cares about me, I’m thrilled! Why would I ever dislike it?” Julian had always been gentle. Even if he was decisive and commanding in the boardroom, he still doted on me like I was his most precious treasure. Even when I was in the wrong, he’d be the first to apologize, wanting me to always feel cherished. I shouldn’t doubt Julian. I followed Julian home, watching him carry groceries into the kitchen. I turned to head to my study to deal with some documents when I saw Julian’s phone vibrate. I was about to call out to him when my peripheral vision caught the caller ID. My breath hitched. I picked up the phone and answered. That familiar, sickeningly sweet voice echoed. The person on the other end practically purred his name. “Julesy, Julesy, Brianna’s entire second-half业绩 is counting on your big deal! My boss praised me today, I really need to thank you properly.” My heart clenched. I heard her chuckle. “I heard a little bird told me your Mrs. was on the prowl earlier, Julesy, Julesy, report in! What’s the situation on your end?” The woman, saved as [Yuanhe Vineyard’s Brianna], was calling my husband “Julesy.” Even the old-timers who’d been with the company since its inception called him Mr. Julian. No one, not even close acquaintances, spoke to Julian like that. And now. The woman hesitated. “Julesy, Julesy.” “Why aren’t you answering me?” “Bad signal?” The call was abruptly disconnected. My face was ashen as I stared at Julian, still busy in the kitchen. It suddenly hit me – Julian had indeed developed a sudden interest in wine tasting, and a Yuanhe Vineyard project had unexpectedly appeared on the company’s deal roster, one that really shouldn’t have been there. I had even asked Julian at the time why he was suddenly changing strategy. Julian had simply said, “No matter the industry, if there’s a piece of the pie to be had, I want a bite,” Julian had looked at me with tender eyes. “I want to make my wife the happiest woman alive, to give her the best life.” My heart had been filled with sweetness. Now, it felt like a heavy hand had just slapped me across the face, shattering my fantasies and all my hopes for our marriage. Julian. How far had he gone with her?

I sat in my study, Brianna’s voice replaying relentlessly in my mind. I thought of the times I’d accompanied Julian to the vineyard, yet I’d never seen anyone named Brianna there. I found Chloe’s SnapChat and typed out a message. **[Help me dig into Yuanhe Vineyard and Julian.]** I fought down the terror rising in my chest, my typing fingers trembling. **[I need every single transaction and recent itinerary for Julian. Everything,]** Tears welled in my eyes, but I stubbornly refused to let them fall, clinging to a shred of rationality. **[Julian might be cheating.]** I had just hit send. Julian’s voice came from behind me. “Audrey.” He walked over, his face etched with an apology. “A company project suddenly hit a snag,” he said, his voice troubled as he looked at me. “I promised to spend time with you, but I really can’t sort this out from here. I have to go.” He gently stroked my head. “I’ll be back as soon as I’m done,” he said, holding his phone. The screen was lit, and I saw a SnapChat chat box still open. I gripped his hand tightly, asking him, “Can’t you just not go?” Normally, Julian would sense the change in my tone, would see the vulnerability hidden in my eyes, and my phone screen that I hadn’t had time to turn off. But Julian didn’t. He was focused on leaving and his SnapChat, merely explaining with forced patience. “I’ll be back soon, don’t make a fuss.” His voice was tinged with urgency. “Audrey, you’re always so understanding, don’t make this harder for me.” I felt like a balloon suddenly deflated, sitting numbly as Julian rushed out without even a proper goodbye. My tears finally fell, silently. It was then I truly understood: there really are no faithful cats when there’s cream to be had. Chloe called me. “Julian actively financed and launched a project at Yuanhe. This whole thing smells fishy.” Chloe sent me documents. “The whole of Yuanhe is saying Julian poured a fortune into promoting someone. No one at Yuanhe dares to joke around with that girl.” Chloe’s voice turned cold. “I heard Yuanhe is having a celebration party at The Grand Astoria Hotel.” “Julian didn’t go, right?” That last flicker of hope in my heart completely shattered. I looked at the dinner Julian had prepared on the table: the peeled shrimp, my favorite sweet soup, and the roses placed nearby. It suddenly hit me—Julian had said, “Audrey! Did you forget? Today is actually our wedding anniversary.” Our wedding anniversary. Julian still chose someone else, still left me here alone. Even though I’d said I didn’t want him to go, I didn’t want him to leave, I wanted him to stay—he still walked towards the person he was more concerned about. “I’m going to The Grand Astoria.” I told Chloe. “Even if my marriage is ending, I need to know what kind of person I lost to.” I had imagined who I might lose to: a sophisticated, elegant woman, or perhaps someone vibrant, bubbly, and younger. But I had never, ever imagined this. When I saw her, sitting next to Julian, calling him “Julesy” in that sweet, syrupy voice—she was so utterly unremarkable, I wouldn’t remember her face if I saw her on the street. She had no real style, wore ordinary clothes, her hair was casually tied back, and her face was bare as she hugged Julian’s arm, laughing. “Julesy.” “They’re trying to get me drunk.” Spoiled rotten by his favoritism, the girl pointed at the businessmen at the table. “I told them my Julesy is a knight and would protect me, but they didn’t believe it. They said you have to talk to them yourself.” In the private room. Those men laughed, flattering him. “That’s why Brianna has such unique taste! She either goes for nothing or snags a golden goose like this!”

“Mr. Julian spares no expense for Brianna; everyone’s buzzing about how he values love over profit, hahaha.” “Exactly!” a paunchy businessman picked up his glass. “Brianna, why don’t you join us in toasting Mr. Julian?” My steps faltered, my hand freezing on the doorknob. Julian was allergic to alcohol; he never drank. Even at business dinners, I was always the one on the front lines, shielding him. I watched the wine glass on Julian’s table as Brianna pouted, “No way I’m drinking. My Julesy would never let me.” “Right, Julesy?” Brianna clung to Julian’s arm, pouting. And Julian, incredibly, picked up the glass, his eyes cool as he looked at the man. “Brianna isn’t drinking.” “If you want a toast, Mr. Thompson, why don’t you and I drink?” I watched Julian down the glass of wine. The room erupted in cheers, Brianna blushing as she praised Julian for being a hero. Julian just gave her a doting smile and playfully pinched her cheek. My body felt as if it were being carved open by a rusty, blunt knife, leaving jagged, terrifying wounds. I saw the crimson blood gush from those wounds, saw myself riddled with holes, yet still wondering if there might be some misunderstanding. Chloe, seeing me sway, grabbed my arm, about to rush in and rip Julian a new one. “Julian’s a total beast!” I held Chloe back, pulled out my phone, and called Julian. I still clung to a desperate hope that Julian would give me an explanation himself, that he’d tell me there was another side to the story. I watched Julian pick up the phone from the table, his expression complex as he looked at Brianna. Brianna, without a second thought, pressed ‘decline.’ Brianna then hugged his arm again, reminding him, “You promised.” “You said,” Brianna bit her lip, looking at him, “you’d have my back.” Brianna stared at Julian, stubbornly. I stubbornly redialed Julian’s number, again and again. The screen on the table lit up and went dark, went dark and lit up, until finally, Julian made his decision. “Okay.” “I promised you.” Julian flipped his phone over, completely cutting off my calls. Brianna broke into a wide smile. And that smile was the final straw that broke me. I almost collapsed, but from my grief, I managed to squeeze out a sliver of rationality. I pointed to the ceiling. “The surveillance.” “The surveillance,” my voice trembling. “Save it. I need evidence.” I stared at the surveillance cameras, then at Julian’s gradually paling face, and told Chloe, “Since Julian made his choice, I won’t let him have an easy time of it.” I got into Chloe’s car. As Chloe scrolled through all the documents she’d pulled up. Julian, taking Brianna on scenic trips. Brianna’s TikTok was like a vast web, weaving together her love story with Julian, a story that never once included me. I saw a video from last month, when I was away on a business trip. Brianna was sitting in *my* Porsche, recording. In the video. Her smile was dazzling. “What should I do, fam? Hubby’s car broke down, so he bought a new one, a bit feminine. I’m secretly preparing a surprise for him.” She recorded the GPS voice, then shushed the camera. “Guess what?” “Will Hubby like this surprise? Will he buy me little cookies?” I suppressed my disgust, scrolling down further. I saw that on the day I was at the hospital for my IVF appointment, Brianna was at the same OB/GYN clinic, holding a lab report, her face flushed with coy shyness. “Mainstream Hubby hasn’t gotten her period in a month and a half!” “Fans, guess, is Mainstream Hubby just having irregular periods, or—” she giggled. “Is she getting a promotion to Mommy?” “That despicable hussy!” Chloe slammed her hand on the steering wheel in anger. But I, surprisingly, no longer felt the initial rage and pain of betrayal. I simply told her. “Julian has a low sperm count.”

Julian and I had been married for years, and having a child was a sore spot for both of us. We had seen doctors, but every single one told us the same thing: Julian had a low sperm count. Becoming parents would be a long and challenging journey. That’s why, for years, I’d been going through IVF, trying to fulfill Julian’s dream of becoming a father. Now, I watched Brianna’s post: “Mainstream Hubby said if I get pregnant, he’s buying me a villa as a reward! Fam, what do you think? Should I go for cash or real estate?” Brianna’s TikTok was filled with their daily displays of affection, clearly documenting the staggering amount of money Julian had spent on her – an astronomical sum, beyond anything I could have imagined. Even the Yuanhe Vineyard project had been Julian’s unilateral decision, against the unanimous disagreement of the other shareholders. When I had gathered all this, preparing to confront Julian, I received a call from the hospital. It turned out Julian had alcohol poisoning. Marcus, a senior from my university whom I’d known, had seen him and instinctively thought of me, asking with an awkward tone, “Are you and Julian on the outs?” Marcus tactfully told me. “A girl was here, crying and begging us to save Julian. I just assumed…” I smiled and asked Marcus if he could do me a favor. Soon after, I saw Brianna’s TikTok update. Julian, pale and hooked up to an IV, and Brianna, her eyes red from crying. “Mainstream Hubby drank so much for me! He knew he was allergic to alcohol but he still did it! Mainstream Hubby loves him so much!” In the video. Julian’s hand was clearly visible, but only one. If not for those hands that held me to sleep every night, if not for our bond since childhood, if not for all that, how could I have ever believed Julian would deceive me? I reacted to Brianna’s post with a thumbs up and commented. **[What a coincidence.]** **[Mainstream Hubby’s wedding ring looks exactly like mine.]** I posted a picture: **[My husband personally designed and ordered my wedding ring. I never thought my husband and Mainstream Hubby’s husband would have such similar taste.]** The comments quickly erupted. My comment was rapidly pushed to the top. Julian’s phone rang instantly. His voice was weak, but he explained to me, “Audrey, I’m working late at the office. I might not make it back. Don’t wait up for me, just go to sleep and don’t worry.” Julian was still covering it up, still using the guise of caring for me, hoping I’d continue living in his deception. I listened to his voice, watching the comment section explode. Many people, following my TikTok and Brianna’s timeline, had uncovered too many parallels, including the Porsche I had deliberately photographed. The comment section was buzzing with discussions about whether it was two women sharing one husband, or if one of them had to be the mistress. I feigned shock. **[No way.]** **[My husband and I have been married for seven or eight years. How could I be the mistress?]** I pretended innocence, then responded into the phone: “Honey, someone’s calling me a mistress. What should I do?” On the phone. Julian was silent for a long time. He looked at Brianna, who was fiercely battling the comments in the hospital room, then soothed me. “Who said that about you?” “Hubby will find them first thing, as soon as he’s done.” “No need, Honey,” my voice was tinged with a smile. Julian’s face was blank as I pushed open the hospital room door. “Since someone’s calling me a mistress, I should clarify, shouldn’t I, Honey?” I held up my live-streaming camera, pointing it at Julian and Brianna in the hospital room. “This is my husband, everyone!” I feigned surprise, looking at Brianna. “What are you doing here!” I played the innocent victim, tears welling up immediately. “You’re that blogger who argued with me!” As if finally recognizing her, I pulled out the picture Brianna had taken of Julian’s hand, comparing it to the very much alive Julian in the hospital bed.

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On the third day of my business trip, I checked the smart pet feeder’s backend, wanting to see if Midas, my cat, was eating well. The camera connected, and a syrupy sweet voice immediately drifted out. “Oh, your daddy is so careless. He didn’t even notice you ran out of food. My poor baby must be starving, aren’t you? Mommy’s heart is breaking.” On screen, a young woman was holding my cat, nuzzling him affectionately. Midas, who was usually skittish around strangers, didn’t scratch her. He was actually purring and kneading in her arms, eyes blissfully half-closed. My blood ran cold. I immediately clicked on the remote intercom. “Who are you? What are you doing in my house?” The woman’s back stiffened. She scrambled to her feet, and then the screen went black. I immediately called Lucas, asking him what the hell was going on. He, however, just brushed it off casually. “Oh, Chloe? She’s a new intern at my company. She just helped me pick up an urgent document from home. She probably saw Midas and thought he was cute, so she played with him a bit.” “She’s still a kid, honestly. The type who orders from the kids’ menu at company dinners. She doesn’t think before she speaks, super naive.” I didn’t press further. Instead, I immediately called Brooke Miller, my best friend who’s a lawyer. “Lucas is cheating on me. I need you to draw up divorce papers, now!” *** Brooke almost choked on the other end of the line. “Just because that girl held your cat, you’re convinced Lucas is cheating and you want a divorce?” “Girl, that’s a bit dramatic, isn’t it?” I took a deep breath and explained to her, “You know Midas’s personality. A stranger can’t even touch him, let alone hold him, without getting scratched to ribbons.” “That girl was holding him, kissing him, rubbing him, and Midas was docile as a fake cat in her arms. This is not the familiarity level you get from a first-time visitor. Lucas is lying!” Brooke was silent for a moment, then she exploded in rage. “Lucas Thorne, that ungrateful bastard! A kept man, and he dares to mess around? He’s got a death wish!” “Aria, don’t worry. I guarantee I’ll make sure that dirtbag leaves with absolutely nothing—not even the shirt on his back!” I hung up, forcing myself to calm down. From the stored footage in the smart feeder’s backend, I took a screenshot of the girl’s face. Then I immediately changed my flight, flying back home that very night. As soon as I landed, I drove straight to the company. My gaze swept across the workstations, but I didn’t see that familiar face. Had Lucas hidden her that quickly? I went to the restroom. As I walked into a stall, I heard two girls talking outside. “Chloe, you’re so lucky! You found such a rich and loving boyfriend!” “Tickets to that big pop star concert were so hard to get, and he managed to get us front-row seats! I’m so jealous!” The other girl, Chloe, her voice sweet and barely concealing her pride, replied, “Oh, it’s nothing, really. He insisted on taking me, saying we shouldn’t have any regrets in our youth…” I froze. Wasn’t that the voice I heard from the feeder’s backend? Through the crack in the door, Chloe Davis was at the sink, touching up her makeup. I suddenly remembered. A month ago, I had told Lucas I wanted to see that pop star concert, playfully begging him to find a way to get tickets. Back then, he’d frowned, looking annoyed. “Aria, how old are you? Still chasing pop stars like a teenager?” “Besides, those tickets are impossible to get. Why bother?” It wasn’t that they were impossible to get. It was that the tickets, and the person, had been given to someone else. I scoffed, pushing the door open and walking out. The two girls clearly jumped in surprise. The other girl awkwardly mumbled, “Ms. Hayes,” and quickly scurried away. Chloe tried to leave too, but I called out, stopping her. “Chloe Davis, right? Were you at my house yesterday afternoon?” Chloe’s eyes darted around. “Mr. Thorne forgot some urgent documents, he asked me to pick them up…” I raised an eyebrow, cutting her off coldly. “Midas is quite shy with strangers. He gets stressed if anyone he doesn’t know touches him. How did you manage to get him to let you hold him?” Chloe’s face went pale. She stammered, “Maybe… maybe it’s because I usually feed stray cats, so I carry their scent, and animals just tend to like me…” I chuckled. “So much so that on your very first visit to my house, you introduced yourself as his mom? And called Lucas his dad?” “Then who am I? The maid?” Chloe instantly panicked. “Ms. Hayes, you’ve misunderstood! I just said it playfully. I often call myself ‘mommy’ when I feed stray cats.” “I really didn’t mean anything else. Please, don’t misunderstand…” Tears welled up in her eyes, she was so frantic. If I hadn’t checked her social media posts before coming to the office, I almost would have believed her. On her private Ins account, I saw Lucas was having a ridiculously expensive candlelit dinner with her on *our* wedding anniversary, which he had missed. I saw a photo of their fingers intertwined on a hotel bed, mocking me: “My big boy is so obedient; one call and he came running. The old hag is stuck home alone!” That hand in the photo, I’d seen it for five years. I couldn’t possibly mistake it. The thought of me going to the hospital repeatedly for fertility treatments because of Lucas’s low sperm count, enduring all that agony, while he was fooling around with his mistress, made me sick to my stomach. With that in mind, I didn’t watch Chloe’s performance anymore. I turned and walked away. Just as I reached the company entrance, I ran straight into Lucas, who was rushing back. Seeing me, a flicker of undetectable panic crossed his face. “Honey, why are you back so early? You didn’t even tell me, I would’ve picked you up from the airport!” Looking at the fine beads of sweat on his forehead, I sneered inwardly. He’s rushing back so fast because Chloe must have tipped him off, right? I glanced at him, my voice flat. “What, you’re not happy I’m back early?” “Or could it be you’ve hidden a little lover at the company, and you’re afraid I’ll find out?” Lucas froze for a second, then forced a laugh, reaching out to put his arm around me. “What nonsense are you talking about? I’m just surprised, that’s all. I didn’t expect you back so suddenly. Come on, let’s go home. Your husband will cook you something delicious!” I subtly sidestepped his hand, feigning a casual tone. “Oh, right, that concert the other day sounded quite exciting.” Lucas’s face changed. He quickly denied it, agitated. “Concert? What concert? I’ve been working overtime every night until midnight. How would I have time for a concert?” “Did you see someone? You must have mistaken them!” I smirked internally. I hadn’t even mentioned he went with anyone, yet he’d already betrayed himself. Seeing me just watching him, silent, Lucas grew a little flustered. He quickly changed the subject, his voice deliberately fawning. “Honey, you’re just working too hard. You’re starting to imagine things.” “You’re a goddess to me. No other woman can even compare to a single strand of your hair.” “If you really want to see that pop star concert, I’ll find a scalper right away. Even if it costs ten times the price, I’ll get you front-row tickets! We can have a romantic night, how about it?” In the past, I would have been thrilled to hear him say that. But now, I just felt disgusted, wishing I could divorce him immediately and cut all ties. However, I knew that tearing him down now would be too easy for that scummy pair. I needed to wait. Wait for an opportunity to utterly destroy their reputations. Thinking this, I suppressed the disgust churning within me and forced a strained smile. “Maybe I really did see wrong. It’s fine, I’m okay now. You can go back to work.” Lucas carefully observed my expression, convinced I had been appeased. He finally let out a sigh of relief and turned back into the company. As his back disappeared, the smile on my face instantly froze. That night, Lucas, predictably, worked overtime again. I opened Chloe Davis’s private Ins account and saw her new post. “Some old women just have no self-awareness, desperately throwing themselves at my boyfriend. It’s hilarious. Good thing my boyfriend only has eyes for me.” “To prove his loyalty, he just had to get me a limited edition luxury yacht as a Valentine’s Day gift! Everyone come party, witness the yacht’s maiden voyage~” The post was accompanied by a heavily filtered photo of her holding a huge bouquet of red roses, standing in front of a white yacht. Seeing that yacht, I absolutely exploded. This was a six-year wedding anniversary gift my dad gave to Lucas and me. Worth millions, the customization alone took a whole year. I hadn’t even dared to take it out on the water myself, always meticulously maintaining it, docked at a private marina. Lucas, that freeloading husband, actually took *my* property to butter up his mistress?

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Even though I knew an open flame at a gas leak was a death sentence, I, a firefighter, still let my girlfriend’s childhood friend light a cigarette on-site, supposedly “to calm his nerves.” Just like in my previous life. At a party, a gas leak suddenly happened, and my girlfriend’s childhood friend insisted on lighting a cigarette to steady his nerves. I slapped the lighter out of his hand, yelling at him that he was trying to kill everyone. His ego was badly bruised, and ignoring all warnings, he stormed out, only to be crushed to death by a billboard hurled by the blast. Later, when I was dangling in mid-air after saving a child from a fall, my girlfriend, who was my second-in-command, deliberately severed my safety rope. She looked at my lifeless body and said, “If you hadn’t publicly humiliated him, he wouldn’t have died!” When I opened my eyes again, I was back in that room, thick with the smell of gas. “Caleb, what are you staring at?” Chloe’s annoyed voice dragged me back from the bloody memories. I… I had been reborn. I looked at her, then at Jax, who stood beside her, clutching a lighter and muttering curses. I clenched my fists, forcing myself to calm down through the pain. I couldn’t make the same mistake again. Rushing over to stop Jax would only enrage him, making him repeat the past. But this time, if I let him light that lighter, all of us would die here. I couldn’t die, and my crew, standing behind me, were innocent. Taking a deep breath, I put on an urgent expression and sharply ordered Jax: “Jax! What are you doing! Put that lighter down! This is a gas leak!” Jax flinched at my shout, almost dropping the lighter. However, before he could react, Chloe instantly blew up. She stepped in front of Jax, glaring at me with her chin defiantly raised. “Caleb, what are you yelling for! Look how you scared him! He’s just nervous and wants a cigarette; do you have to be such a jerk?” Her self-righteous tone made it sound like I was the unreasonable one. What a dramatic show, “the damsel defending her doltish hero.” Too bad I wasn’t the same fool who only knew how to give in my last life. “Chloe! Snap out of it! This isn’t a joke!” I stared at Chloe, who was shielding Jax, a cold smirk forming in my heart, but on my face, I forced a desperate, conflicted expression. “Chloe! Snap out of it! This isn’t a joke!” “Our monitors are screaming – the gas concentration is at a critical explosion point! Forget an open flame, even a static spark could ignite everything and take us all down with it!” While I pleaded desperately, I subtly positioned my body to block their view, my finger lightly pressing the record button on the camera clipped to my chest pocket. Seeing Chloe defend him so fiercely, Jax’s courage instantly returned. He peeked half his head from behind Chloe, challenging me with a brazen smirk, “Seriously, Captain? You’re overreacting. Exaggerate much? It’s just a cigarette. What’s the big deal?” “Besides, Chloe said it’s fine. Can’t you, a grown man, just calm down and stop being so uptight?” The old me might have been provoked, but now, I just found it pathetic. Realizing words were useless, I quietly gave an inconspicuous tactical hand signal to my crew behind me. —Prepare to evacuate, find cover, stay alert. Mike, an experienced firefighter standing behind me, his pupils contracted sharply, but his face remained impassive. He understood immediately. He shifted his body to block Chloe and Jax’s view, giving me a subtle nod, then inconspicuously stepped back half a pace, bumping the two other firefighters next to him. Almost simultaneously, the three of them silently moved towards the kitchen door, ready to retreat at a moment’s notice. Everything was in place. I feigned helplessness and turned to Chloe, a hint of desperation in my voice. “Chloe, please, I’m begging you, talk some sense into him! This is genuinely about all our lives! You’re a firefighter too, you should understand!” However, Chloe showed no sympathy. She even seemed to enjoy my pleading, believing it made her look good in front of Jax. She turned to soothe Jax, and then, she said something that sealed everyone’s fate. “Don’t worry, Jax, I’ve got you. Just light it, nothing will happen.” I watched their intimate display, as if they were on the same side, and used every ounce of strength to roar at my crew: “Get down!” That yell was my command to the brothers who trusted me. The instant my shout left my lips, Jax pressed the button on his lighter.

BOOM—! A deafening roar instantly swallowed all other sounds in the world. It felt like a red-hot iron rod had been violently shoved through my eardrums, shaking my entire skull with a ringing vibration. But because of my pre-emptive command, all my crew members had taken cover in the seconds before the explosion, minimizing the direct impact and reducing injuries. Jax and Chloe weren’t so lucky. Completely unprepared, Jax didn’t even have time to scream as he ignited the lighter. The blue fireball engulfed him instantly. Chloe, standing beside him, couldn’t escape either. She was violently thrown back by the furious blast, her back slamming against a load-bearing wall with a sickening thud. Her orange fire-resistant suit rapidly charred and carbonized under the terrifying heat, emitting plumes of white smoke. A few seconds later, the first, most violent wave of the explosion passed. I fought back the ringing in my ears and the internal tremors, scrambling to my feet immediately, and yelled, “Roll call!” “One!” “Two!” “Three!” “Captain, all accounted for, no major injuries!” Mike’s voice echoed through the smoke, filled with the relief of surviving. After confirming that all my crew had only suffered shock and minor scrapes, I immediately gave orders: “Team One, with me, put out the fire! Contain the blaze! Team Two, prepare for search and rescue!” I grabbed a fire extinguisher and rushed towards the burning gas canister. Soon, we had the remaining fires under control. When I reached Chloe, she was unconscious, her cheeks and neck covered in large, horrific burn blisters. Jax, beside her, was completely unrecognizable, charred black, with only a faint, shallow rise and fall in his chest. I admit, for a moment, my heart felt numb. All the past entanglements and hatred flashed through my mind like a silent film. But they were quickly suppressed by my ingrained professional instincts. The next second, they were just victims in need of urgent rescue. This was my duty, regardless of love or hate. My movements were swift and precise as I calmly directed the rescue. Downstairs, I handed the injured over to the waiting medical personnel. The accident investigation team and police had also arrived at the scene. Director Hayes, who was leading the team, walked over and patted my shoulder. “Caleb, tough job. What’s the situation inside?” I stood at attention, giving him a crisp salute. “Director Hayes, fire is out, critically injured individuals have been transported to the hospital.”

Inside the hospital, the mix of disinfectant and burn cream created an oppressive, suffocating atmosphere. Jax was rushed to the ICU upon arrival, with over 90% third-degree burns. Doctors had issued multiple critical condition notices; his life hung by a thread. Chloe survived, but her face, neck, and hands were severely burned. For a woman who valued her appearance more than her life, this was worse than death. I had just reached the door of Chloe’s hospital room when I heard heart-wrenching screams from inside. “It’s all Caleb! All him!” Chloe shrieked, her voice hoarse and venomous. “He did it on purpose, he yelled at Jax like a mad dog just to provoke him, to humiliate him. He wanted to drive Jax to his death!” Twisting the truth, confusing facts. What a masterstroke of playing the victim. But what she said next chilled me to the bone. “And… he threatened me!” Chloe’s crying took on a hint of fear. “Before the explosion, he sent me a SnapChat message, saying… saying he’d always hated Jax and wished he would die! I have screenshots, I have proof!” The hospital room door was yanked open from the inside. Jax’s mother, her hair disheveled and her eyes bloodshot like a banshee, saw me immediately. “You! You murderer!” Chloe shrieked, her nails frantically clawing towards my face. “Give me back my son! You despicable monster, why did you plot to kill him!” Then, a middle-aged man with an imposing air of authority, Chloe’s father, stormed out. He pulled Jax’s mother away, his face livid, and pointed a finger at my nose. “Caleb, you animal! My Chloe was so good to you, and you ruined her face! You just wait, I’m telling you, this isn’t over! I’ll make sure you rot in jail!” Patients and family members around us pointed and whispered. “Is that him? He looks decent, but his heart is so twisted?” “These young people nowadays, hurting others over a little relationship drama, it’s terrifying.” A middle-aged woman even spat on the floor near my feet, her face full of disdain. “And you’re wearing that uniform! Firefighters are supposed to save people, but you, you specialize in harming them! Do you even deserve to be a firefighter?” “Exactly! How did such a psychopath get into the fire department? He didn’t learn how to save lives, but he’s got a whole playbook on how to harm people! Take off that uniform and get out! Don’t you dare tarnish the word ‘hero’!” “Is our taxpayer money going to feed a scumbag in a uniform like you?!” Insults and murmurs buzzed around my ears like a swarm of flies. Yet, Chloe seemed to think it wasn’t enough. Her body began to tremble violently, her bandaged fingers pointing at me erratically: “Ah—! Don’t come near me! Stay away! Murderer!” “Dad! Mom! Make him leave! I’m scared! He hurt Jax! He’s trying to hurt me too!” She recoiled into the corner of the bed as if she had been severely traumatized, crying and shrinking away, her performance full of emotion. Jax’s mother, seeing her son’s beloved woman so terrified, was consumed by rage. “You monster, you’re still trying to scare her! I’ll fight you!” Chloe’s father was also trembling with anger. He turned to the surrounding crowd and shouted, “Everyone, look! This is your so-called hero! Today, I’m going to get justice for my daughter, and for Jax, who is still fighting for his life in the ICU!” The crowd’s emotions were fully ignited; the insults and accusations grew fiercer. Watching this farce, clearly orchestrated to destroy me, I understood instantly. Chloe wanted to pin all the blame on me, to utterly destroy my reputation. Fine. Chloe, you’re ruthless. My last shred of affection for her vanished completely. “Chloe,” I locked my gaze on her twisted face on the hospital bed, “this act has gone on long enough. It’s time for a curtain call.” The noisy hallway fell into an eerie silence for a moment. I saw panic flicker in Chloe’s eyes. The next second, I pulled out the recorder from my chest pocket. “Funny thing, I also… have something here that I’d like everyone to hear.” The moment I was about to pull out the recorder, my phone rang, and everyone’s eyes zeroed in on me. Before I could react, Chloe’s father roared and lunged at me. “He’s trying to run! That’s his accomplice calling! Trying to help him get awa

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Rowan loved my Imperial Brother. But the year he fell from grace, I forced him to become my kept man, humiliating him beyond measure. Years later, he raised an army and marched against the crown. The day his cavalry thundered through the Royal City, my father, the Emperor, groveled and offered my Imperial Sister to him. Yet, Declan simply smiled, his gaze shifting to me. “What, is Rowan too afraid to face me?” Everyone said the first thing Declan would do after seizing power was to offer a thousand pieces of gold for my head. But he didn’t know. I was already dead. *** The day Declan’s cavalry shattered the gates of the Royal City, my father, desperate to save his own skin, pushed my Imperial Sister forward. He chuckled, fawning, “General Declan… no, my new Emperor. You always favored Seraphina.” “Now, for the sake of Seraphina and the throne, spare my life?” Seraphina quietly lowered her head, revealing a delicate stretch of white neck, appearing so frail it stirred pity in anyone who saw her. Declan didn’t respond, the sharp blade of his sword still dripping with blood. But I knew he would agree. He had always loved my Imperial Sister. In this vast Royal City, he was cold and distant to everyone, yet for her, he held a special warmth. It was true then, and it was true now. Declan smiled, his eyes holding a casual indifference. “Where is Rowan?” “What, is she too afraid to face me?” I flinched slightly. I never imagined he would ask about me. Everyone in the Royal City knew he loved my Imperial Sister; he’d poured all his tenderness into Seraphina. A perfect match, a love destined by fate. They were meant to be a beautiful story, yet I, in his year of disgrace, had forced him to become my kept man. I had ruined everything. Now that he had seized power, with his beloved by his side, why would he care about my fate? Declan’s eyes twinkled with a chilling amusement as he continued, “Years ago, when the Declan family was framed and their estates seized, the Ninth Princess forced me to be her personal attendant.” “Kneeling in the snow, constant beatings and verbal abuse—none of it was new.” He looked at my father, a half-smile playing on his lips. “Tell me, Your Majesty, shouldn’t the Ninth Princess now kneel in the snow for several nights, to taste the flavor of numbness from the cold?” I instinctively curled my fingers into my palms, a bitter ache in my heart that I couldn’t articulate. So, Declan had asked about me only to… take his revenge. My father, however, breathed a sigh of relief. His gaze darted away, he stammered, “So, the General hates Rowan. But Rowan, she…” His words were cut short. Seraphina snatched a guard’s sword, plunging it through my father’s chest. Blood splattered onto the floor. She dropped the bloodied sword, her hands trembling, watching my father’s eyes widen in disbelief as he gurgled blood and collapsed. Then, she slowly knelt before Declan. She sobbed, timidly raising her head, and quickly clutched at Declan’s robe. “My father, the Emperor, was obsessed with alchemy and disregarded his people. He long ago lost their hearts.” “Seraphina is willing… to sacrifice her family for the greater good. I only ask to remain by the General’s side, even as a common maidservant, to attend to your needs.” “As for my Imperial Sister,” her eyes flickered, she bit her lower lip, omitting the truth, “she already fled with her consort before the General entered the Royal City.” The air hung heavy for a few moments. Declan smiled faintly, then finally raised his hand to help Seraphina to her feet. He tried to force a smile, but it wouldn’t come. His face was blank, cold. “Is that so?” “In that case, issue a command: whoever finds the Ninth Princess shall be promoted, ennobled, and rewarded with a thousand pieces of gold.” He wanted to catch me. For revenge? To vent his anger? But me, I was already long dead.

I suddenly remembered that year. The Declan family was unjustly imprisoned, the men condemned to execution, the women exiled. I begged everyone in the court, but they all shunned the Declan family. Even Seraphina merely watched me, smiling indifferently, when she heard the news. “The Declan family is a lost cause now. What reason is there for a princess like me to save them?” I silently dug my nails into my palms, saying nothing. When the Declan family held power, she flaunted Declan’s affection. Everyone in the Royal City knew of their mutual love, a match seemingly perfect, needing only a marriage contract. Overnight, they became outcasts. How utterly ironic. Later, I knelt before my father, the Emperor, for an entire night, begging him to grant Declan to me. I feigned stubbornness, my tone spoiled, “Declan always hated me. He threw away my sachet, mocked my handwriting, and shamed me in front of all the ladies of the city.” I scoffed, “Now the Declan family has betrayed the crown, a crime deserving of death. Wouldn’t forcing him to be my personal attendant be an even greater humiliation for the Declan name?” “Besides, keeping him alive would only showcase Your Majesty’s benevolence to the world.” I pouted, charmingly pleading with my father, “I grew up without a mother, Father. You are the only one I can rely on. Please, grant your humble daughter this wish.” But in truth, I was not my father’s most beloved daughter. Before he ascended the throne, my mother had been his favorite concubine. But monarchs are inherently suspicious, tolerating no powerful in-laws. Because he feared my grandfather’s military command, my mother lived on thin ice in the palace. A framed poisoning incident led to her demotion, and she lost all favor. As the daughter of a disgraced concubine, I was neglected and unloved from childhood. The Declan family had been loyal for generations. Perhaps my father worried that their ruin would stir public unrest, or perhaps he recalled the faint affection he once held for my mother when he was merely a prince. He granted my request. When I brought Declan out of the royal dungeons, he was burning with fever, his body covered in raw wounds from various tortures. Madame Declan wept, kneeling in the cell, sobbing her gratitude for saving him. I merely gave a cold, mocking laugh. “Save him? He should thank his good looks; only then is he worthy of being my attendant.” It was only then that they realized under what circumstances Declan would be leaving the dungeons. General Declan glared, his eyes fierce enough to tear me apart. He roared, “Declan, if you have any of the Declan family’s honor left, walk the path to death with dignity! Do not cling to life as another’s plaything!” At the time, I didn’t understand what was wrong with clinging to life. Some people use all their strength just to survive. The first thing I did after bringing Declan back to my princess’s residence was to make him kneel in the bitter winter snow, dressed only in thin clothes. I threw writing implements before him, looking down on him. “Mr. Declan was once the most brilliant scholar in the Royal City, his exquisite handwriting renowned throughout the capital. Even my father, the Emperor, praised his powerful strokes and vibrant spirit.” Declan had once publicly shamed me. It was my father’s birthday that year, and I had just been brought out of the neglected wing of the palace. Seraphina suggested a competition of artistic prowess, but then pushed me forward for the calligraphy part. Everyone was curious about me, a princess who had grown up in the cold palace. Someone then asked Declan what he thought of my handwriting. Declan briefly looked up, stating coldly, “Unrefined, hardly fit for public display.” For a long time after that, the noble ladies of the city treated me as a joke. Now, I acted the part of a spoiled, resentful princess, making Declan kneel in the snow and write until his calligraphy satisfied me. He knelt in the snow all night. No matter what he wrote, I found countless flaws. It wasn’t until he collapsed from a raging fever that my servants carried him to a side room. I deliberately tormented and humiliated him. I had to. From the moment I brought him out of the dungeon, my every move was watched by my father’s spies. Only by constantly humiliating him would my father believe I truly held a grudge, quell his suspicions, and genuinely spare Declan’s life. I dared not summon a doctor, nor could I show any outward concern for Declan. Instead, I feigned a cold and had a trusted maid secretly find medicine and give it to him. Under my constant torment, Declan resigned himself to being my kept man. Did he hate me? I didn’t know. But, most likely, yes.

My soul was trapped near Declan. Everyone assumed that after Declan overthrew the former dynasty, he would crown himself Emperor. But he didn’t. He enthroned Arthur, the young son of Prince Yorick. The chubby little boy’s eyes lit up when he saw Declan return to the royal villa. “Brother Declan, have you seen my Ninth Sister?” Arthur was the last bloodline of Prince Yorick. That year, when Prince Yorick was executed for conspiring with the Declan family, his wife hid Arthur among the dead, smuggling him out during the chaos. The seven or eight-year-old boy was forced to live under an assumed name, barely surviving. Three years ago, when I first arrived at my fiefdom, Willowbrook, I found this child who looked somewhat like me. He was emaciated, covered in dirt, struggling to breathe in a puddle of rainwater. Like a dying kitten. Declan paused, his voice cool. “No.” No sooner had he spoken than Seraphina gracefully walked in. Since the throne remained with the royal family, Seraphina’s princess title was still secure. Now a Grand Princess, she adopted an air of authority, asking softly, “Why does His Majesty seek that criminal? She long ago left the Royal City and fled with her consort.” “If it’s important, Your Majesty could tell your Imperial Sister.” The moment he saw Seraphina, the little boy became visibly upset. He scowled, angrily retorting, “That’s a lie. We deliberately took a detour through Willowbrook, and Ninth Sister wasn’t there at all.” “Now that she’s not in the Royal City, where else could she be?” As if to completely distance himself from Seraphina, Arthur quickly added, “And, my Ninth Sister is not a criminal! You’re not my Imperial Sister, stop trying to be familiar with me.” In an instant, Seraphina’s eyes welled up. The delicate beauty’s pretty eyes brimmed with tears, making anyone pity her. She looked at Declan, as if terribly wronged. “Does the General not believe my words either?” Declan remained silent. After a long moment, he said in a flat tone, “The Ninth Princess did indeed flee.” “Your Majesty has just ascended the throne, and matters are complex. For now, please rest assured and stay in the palace. Tomorrow, I will arrange for Grand Tutor Montague to instruct Your Majesty on proper decorum.” Declan’s words confirmed my status as a criminal. He continued, “The Grand Princess is indeed Your Majesty’s Imperial Sister. As a role model for the kingdom, Your Majesty should respect proper etiquette and address her as Imperial Sister.” Arthur’s eyes widened instantly, as if he had heard something unbelievable. He unconsciously stepped back, biting his teeth, glaring fiercely at Declan through tear-filled eyes. “I trusted you so much… If it weren’t to find Ninth Sister, who would want to come to the Royal City and be this lousy Emperor?” Arthur believed that by following Declan to the Royal City, he would find me. He saw Declan as a brother, still thinking Declan would, as before, silently stand by him no matter what. But he had run into Seraphina. She was the woman Declan loved most. No one could ever make her feel wronged in front of him. Towards Seraphina, he was always indulgent. Arthur, furious, stormed out, followed by a flurry of eunuchs and palace maids, causing a commotion. All the attendants in the hall withdrew. Seraphina walked to Declan’s side, speaking in a gentle, deferential tone,

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I saw Liam, my cop husband, who had been missing for two years. He didn’t remember me. When he wrapped his arm around his new fiancée and looked at me, his eyes were cold and guarded. I forced a smile, swallowed the bitterness, and said nothing. Because the hypnosis that had caused his amnesia two years ago? I was the one who performed it. Liam burst into my life, completely out of the blue. Tonight, my department at the hospital had a dinner party. I’d had too much to drink. My department’s deputy head got promoted to head, and he was treating us. My colleagues were joking around, saying that the vacant deputy head position would most likely be mine. They kept encouraging me to drink, and after a few rounds, my head felt foggy. I just accepted every drink offered. As I walked out of the restaurant, my steps were unsteady, my colleagues supporting me on either side. My stomach was doing flips when I heard the girl beside me gasp, “Wow, he’s seriously hot.” I tilted my head, following her gaze. And there he was, leaning against a car, smoking. My body froze in an instant. Two years. Over seven hundred days and nights. I never dared to hope that I’d see him again, not on a normal evening like this. To unexpectedly see *him*. He looked the same, yet everything about him felt different. I paused for a brief second, or maybe two. Then I raised my hand, trying to rub my eyes. But I was too drunk; my hand wouldn’t cooperate. The neon lights of the night painted his face. The drifting smoke blurred his sharp, distinct features. Outside the restaurant, the crowd surged, loud and chaotic. But he stood there, silent, as if detached from the entire world. My eyes suddenly welled up. My body reacted before my mind did. In my drunken haze, I pushed my colleagues away and rushed straight towards him. The man leaning against the car was startled by my sudden approach. He quickly turned, shying away from me like I was poison, but I still clung desperately to his waist. “Liam.” The moment his name left my lips, tears streamed down my face. My emotions, fueled by alcohol, were overwhelming. I choked back sobs, rambling incoherently about how much I’d missed him these past two years. Until his hand forcefully pried mine away. My drunken stupor made me stumble, and I fell back onto the wet ground. His eyes held extreme disgust and wariness. Yet, his hand was gentle as he pulled the woman who’d just walked up closer. As if afraid of scaring her, his expression and voice instantly softened. “Sweetheart, I really don’t know her.”

The ground was slick from a recent rain. When I fell, I landed pretty hard. My head was ringing, and the alcohol hitting me hard made me uncontrollably dry- heave. My colleagues scrambled to help me up. Liam glanced at me again, as if I were a wild-haired lunatic. Probably worried I might hurt his new fiancée, he quickly opened the passenger door, shielding the woman as she got in. Before she got into the car, she turned and looked at me. My vision was blurry from the alcohol, but I clearly saw the undisguised hostility in her eyes. My body swayed, and I cried, trying to lunge at Liam again: “You can’t leave! I’ve been looking for you for two years! Please, will you come back with me?” This time, my colleagues held me back. They awkwardly apologized for me: “We’re so sorry, she’s had too much to drink. Our apologies.” His eyes were filled with ice. “If you’re drunk, go home and sleep it off. Don’t cause any more trouble, or I won’t be so polite.” My colleagues half-dragged, half-carried me away. In my peripheral vision, I only saw Liam’s face, filled with utter disgust. Our once-passionate marriage felt like a distant dream. On the way back, I trembled, crying and murmuring to myself, “But he really is my husband.” Liam was the man I had been married to for three years. My colleagues took me home and helped me into bed. When I woke up after sleeping, the bedroom was chillingly, terrifyingly silent. The stark white light from the ceiling fixture shone into my eyes. I stared blankly at the ceiling, recalling what had happened. I even wondered if it had all been a dream. The alcohol hadn’t completely worn off, and my head was pounding. I fumbled for my phone and made a call to confirm. “Captain Miller, has Liam returned to Northwood?”

There was a long silence on the other end before a sigh. “Yes, Alice. “Liam… he’s getting married at the end of the year. “He came to Northwood this time to pick up his fiancée’s parents.” Oh, so he really had come back. But Liam, wasn’t he already married to me? I thought for a moment, then remembered something I’d forgotten. We were divorced. Three years ago, we got married. Two years ago, he came back covered in blood, and we got divorced. So, how could I have forgotten?

Two years ago, Liam had narrowly escaped death from that group of drug traffickers. When he left, it was with his childhood friend, Sam. When he returned, his left hand was missing two fingers, and he carried an urn. That urn didn’t contain Sam’s remains, but a few charred personal items. Sam’s identity had been exposed just as his undercover mission was nearing its end. The drug traffickers had tortured him beyond imagination, slowly dismembered, for two days and a night. And the final blow that took Sam’s life? Liam had delivered it himself. Sam’s shattered remains were thrown into the ocean. The police quickly received a tip-off and wiped out the largest drug trafficking den in the Southern Borderlands. But one person was left there forever. Liam developed severe Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. He would forget and confuse many things. But he would never forget that he had killed someone. The one person who shouldn’t have died. He became increasingly disoriented and out of touch with reality. Many times, due to hallucinations, he almost died in accidents. Later, he tried to end his life several times. Until the third time he ran out of the house, was hit by a car in the middle of the street, and rushed to the emergency room, his life hanging by a thread. I sat outside the ER, waiting all night. At dawn, I finally decided to follow the police and hospital’s advice. To let Liam undergo hypnotic therapy, to forget everything about the past. Everything, including me. We arranged a psychologist for him. But he had been a narcotics officer for so many years; his detective instincts were too sharp. He guessed our intentions and showed extreme resistance to the psychologist. Liam became even more insecure, more irritable. In the dead of night, he would suddenly wake up from a dream. In the dim light, he would look at me with wary, helpless eyes and say: “Alice, do you want me to forget you too? Do you not want me anymore?”

My nose burned with a sudden ache. More than anyone, I didn’t want him to forget me. But I also knew, more than anyone, that for him to continue living, he had to forget all the painful past. In the faint night, I kissed the corner of his lips and said: “I promise you, it’s just therapy. You can forget anything, but you’ll never forget me.” He believed me. We had known each other since birth. Acquaintance, understanding, love, commitment. For over twenty years, I had never once lied to him. There was no one else in this world he trusted so completely. So, he obediently followed me into my therapy room. When I asked him to sign a thick stack of papers, he didn’t even glance at them. He didn’t notice the divorce papers tucked inside. I asked him to lie down on the couch in the therapy room, and he said it still carried my scent. He obediently cooperated as I hypnotized him, and then, with my deceit, he forgot everything.

I was sleepless all night. The next day, I returned to the hospital for work, my face showing my exhaustion. I didn’t expect that my first patient would be Liam. He was clearly in a bad mood, and when he entered, he didn’t seem to recognize me. He sat down and stated his situation in a deep voice. “Two years ago, I had an illness, lost my memory, and forgot everything before that. “I want to recover my memory through therapy.” My hand trembled, and the mouse dropped to the floor. In three years, I had never been so flustered. Liam looked at me, a suspicious expression on his face. He still hadn’t recognized me. I fumbled to pick up the mouse, and when I spoke, I realized I’d said the wrong thing. “You… you can try hypnotic therapy to recover.” Even if I didn’t take him, he would still go to another doctor. After a routine inquiry, I led him into the hypnosis room. Liam lay down on the couch, and under my guidance, slowly entered a hypnotic state. I watched his peaceful sleeping face. His brows and eyes, the mole at the corner of his eye, the scar near the ear bone on his profile. Every single detail had long been etched into my heart. It had been too long, far too long, since I’d been able to truly look at him. That face, like a devil’s snare, slowly awakened the deepest, darkest desires within me. The moment I spoke, I committed a cardinal sin for any psychologist. “Mr. Miller, how did you and your fiancée come to be together?” The hypnotized Liam was unusually cooperative. “She’s my fiancée. Six months ago, I fell for her at first sight. “The moment I saw her, I felt she was the one I’d been searching for.” I thought of his fiancée’s face, and suddenly my breath caught in my throat. That face bore a striking seven-tenths resemblance to mine. So I couldn’t help but ask more questions I shouldn’t have. As for what happened two years ago, I didn’t mention a word. Because I had no intention of helping Liam recover his memory. After the hypnotic session, Liam was asleep. I looked at him, finally daring to softly reveal the dark secret of my heart: “What am I going to do? I still love you so much.” He slept soundly, unable to hear my words. His left hand lay by his side, the missing two fingers a jarring sight. I sat by the bed, watching, and couldn’t resist reaching out to touch the area where his fingers were gone. My eyes burned with a sudden, uncontrollable ache. I softly murmured, “It must have hurt terribly.” My outstretched hand was suddenly grabbed by his.

Liam’s eyes snapped open. The first look the man gave me seemed to hold bewilderment and urgency. He stared at me, his gaze intense, across the close distance between us. Then, even he seemed to freeze for a moment. For an instant, I even had a fleeting thought that he might have remembered something. But quickly, the strange emotion in his eyes vanished, replaced by anger and disgust. He spoke, his words like the sharpest knife: “I knew you looked familiar. You’re the one who caused that drunken scene last night, aren’t you?” I suddenly felt an overwhelming panic. Like some dirty, shameful secret had been caught red-handed. I fumbled to push him away, but he gripped my wrist tightly. My explanation was weak and pathetic: “I… I just saw you hadn’t woken up for a long time, and I wanted to wake you.” I desperately hoped he hadn’t heard those last few words I’d spoken. Liam held my wrist with one hand and reached for his phone with the other. He clearly had no intention of letting me off the hook. He opened something on his phone. He looked at me like I was a criminal. That scrutinizing gaze, heavy with intense pressure, made my limbs feel numb and cold. “Coincidentally, before you started your hypnotic therapy on me, I accidentally started a recording on my phone. “Since that’s your explanation, listening to this recording shouldn’t be a problem, right?”

My face slowly drained of all color. Liam didn’t ask for my permission again and directly played the recording. All my questions and interactions with him in it clearly weren’t aimed at helping him recover his memory. Instead, under the guise of therapy, I was prying into his life and privacy over the past two years. His eyes, like dark, bottomless pits, were daggers cutting into my face. The words that came out were utterly devoid of warmth: “Is this how Dr. Hayes abuses her professional position to casually flirt with men?” I felt utterly mortified, my clenched nails digging into my palm. I was so numb I couldn’t feel the pain, only the sticky warmth of blood. We remained locked in this stalemate, so much so that neither of us heard the knock on the door outside. The recording continued to play, and as it neared its end, Chloe, Liam’s fiancée, burst in. She pushed open the inner door, speaking with some unease: “Sorry, I just came by, hope I’m not interrupting your session…” Her voice abruptly cut off, and she sharply glanced at Liam’s phone. From the phone, my voice continued to play. “What am I going to do? I still love you so much.” “It must have hurt terribly…” Chloe stared at the phone in disbelief. Soon, her face darkened, and she strode over in her heels, taking Liam’s phone. She trembled as she checked the recording, fast-forwarding quickly from the beginning to the end. She then finally confirmed that, during the hypnosis session, I had abused my position as a doctor. I had pried into her fiancé’s privacy. And then, at the very end, I had shamelessly uttered those extremely flirtatious words to her fiancé. There was no video with the recording, but a woman’s imagination, well, it knows no bounds. Undoubtedly, she had already pictured the look in my eyes and my gestures towards her fiancé as I spoke those words. Her elegant and gentle face twisted into a furious snarl. She raised her hand and slapped me hard across the face. “So it was you! A psychologist, my foot! Ugh, disgusting! “I saw through you last night! You’re absolutely disgusting!”

The commotion in the therapy room quickly drew in the doctors and nurses outside. At first, a group of confused medical staff tried to mediate. Until Chloe, enraged, played the last segment of the recording, turning the volume to max. My voice, speaking those few suggestive words, clearly reached everyone’s ears. I felt like I was nailed to a pillory of shame, and not a single person came to my defense. More than a dozen scrutinizing, strange, shocked, and contemptuous gazes slowly settled on me. Liam sat to the side, watching with cold indifference. After Chloe had vented enough of her anger, having said the most awful things she could, He then coolly added, “Call the police, and get the director down here.” I stood frozen like a puppet, unable to utter another word. Never before had I realized so clearly that day. Liam and I, we were truly over. He had completely forgotten me. And so, all the tenderness, tolerance, and compassion would no longer belong to me. Dr. Hayes tried to mediate: “Mr. Miller, I’m truly sorry. “Alice certainly acted improperly. I’ll have her apologize to you properly and offer some compensation. How does that sound?” He knew about my past relationship with Liam, so he probably felt some pity for me. Liam looked at him with cold eyes, like an emotionless judge pronouncing a verdict: “I demand you call the police and have the director fire her.”

I looked at the man before me with a sense of bewilderment. Somehow, I was reminded of many years ago, when I first started as a psychologist. I had taken on a male patient who harassed me, but then he turned around and accused me of seducing him. Back then, Liam gathered all the evidence for me. And when that male patient’s family came to plead for him, Liam had said something similar: “I demand you call the police. I will not let this matter rest.” It turned out that the man who once stood between me and danger, the love of my life. Could one day be the one to plunge a sharp knife into my heart. He had forgotten me. So I couldn’t even utter words of blame, or anger. Once Liam made his stance clear, Chloe became even more agitated: “Didn’t you hear that recording?! “If I hadn’t burst in, who knows what else she would have done! “And she’s treated so many male patients before, there aren’t even any cameras in this consultation room. “Oh, it might not even be just male patients, she could be into both, who knows…” Her words grew increasingly offensive. Dr. Hayes’s face darkened, and he said, “Madam, please watch your language!” Chloe directly grabbed a glass hourglass from the bedside table and, with a loud *smash*, threw it at my head. “Watch my language? You’re all in this together, aren’t you? I’m not wasting any more words on you! “Call the director and the police, or I’ll go out right now and let everyone judge this for themselves!”

The hourglass shattered on the floor, glass shards scattering everywhere. Tiny pink sand spilled across the floor. My head buzzed with a sharp ringing sound, and a warm liquid quickly ran down my forehead into my eyes. Through my blurred vision, I thought I saw Liam glance at me. But when I raised my hand to wipe my face and looked at him again, his gaze was no longer on me. Dr. Hayes’s face was extremely grim, and he tried to defend me. But I knew Liam too well. His current attitude meant he absolutely wouldn’t back down. With the evidence right here, my abuse of professional position for ulterior motives, my ethical decay. I couldn’t escape responsibility, nor did I want to implicate anyone else. I voluntarily contacted the director and called the police, explaining everything as if surrendering. Within half an hour, the director and police arrived. Captain Miller from the police department came along too. As soon as Captain Miller saw me, surrounded like a criminal, he let out a soft sigh. I lowered my eyelids, unable to say a single word. Captain Miller stepped forward, took Liam’s phone, and listened to the only piece of evidence. He then looked at Liam, trying to communicate with him in a low voice. But Liam’s attitude was exceptionally firm. He refused to make any concessions. His demand, from beginning to end, was for me to be expelled from the hospital. Otherwise, he would make the recording public, making me infamous nationwide. A female psychologist seducing a male patient through hypnosis—what a sensational topic. I chose the former, to resign from the hospital. Because the latter would also mean suspension. And potentially exposing Liam’s identity if it went viral online. He had once been a narcotics officer; exposing him would do no good. That afternoon, I packed my things. Like a stray, I left the hospital. When I stepped out of the elevator into the underground parking garage, several eggs flew at me.

I couldn’t dodge in time, and the eggs splattered all over my white lab coat. Some of the moldy egg liquid stuck to me, a sticky mess. A foul, fishy smell quickly spread around my nostrils. Facing me were two women with unpleasant expressions. One was Chloe, and the other was an older woman who resembled her somewhat. The middle-aged woman pointed at me, furiously cursing: “Liam is my daughter’s fiancé. “Their relationship is wonderful, and they’re getting married soon! “You shameless hussy, get lost and die somewhere far away!” I suddenly felt a surge of irrationality, wanting to blurt something out. But then I saw a car window roll down not far away. The man in the driver’s seat revealed half of his strikingly handsome profile. It was Liam. I saw him clearly. After so many years of knowing and loving him, even just his silhouette, I would never mistake it. He met my gaze. Still that cold, indifferent expression, taking in my utterly pathetic state. I actually don’t like being too humiliated. So I tugged at the corner of my mouth, trying to force a look of nonchalant indifference. But in the end, I couldn’t manage a smile, and nearly burst into tears instead. He cherished and indulged Chloe so deeply. So even now, if Chloe were to stab a knife into my heart, he probably wouldn’t even flinch. My Liam, he once cherished and indulged me in the same way.

In the end, I said nothing. Just seeing that face, it was as if all my strength suddenly drained away. I got directly into my car. It wasn’t until the car door closed that the women’s yelling was finally cut off. I drove home, carrying boxes of belongings inside. I originally couldn’t bear to part with my white lab coat, wanting to keep it as a memento. But now, it was ruined beyond recognition. I hesitated for a moment, then took it off, stuffed it into a trash bag, and took it outside. Lucky was surprised to see me home so early. It came trotting over, panting, licking my pant leg. I patted its head and refilled its food bowl. Lucky was a dog Liam and I found on the street a few years ago. I remember I asked Liam to name it back then. He clearly had no talent for naming things and after thinking for ages, he finally blurted out: “How about Lucky? Sounds exactly like a dog’s name, doesn’t it?” I giggled, and we settled on the name. Watching Lucky eat its kibble, I suddenly felt a little like crying. These past two years, ever since Liam left, I had grown used to being always on the go. Leaving before seven in the morning, and not getting back until late at night. It was as if as long as I was busy enough, I wouldn’t have time to think about things I shouldn’t. I wouldn’t feel sad, wouldn’t miss him. But now, I was forced into idleness. I went into the kitchen, put some water in a pot, and prepared to boil noodles. Then I poured a glass of water and went out to sit on the couch. It turns out, people really can’t be idle. I took a bored sip of water and looked at the pristine white wall. And then I remembered that once, a large red ‘囍’ character had hung there. The nearly two-meter-wide symbol of double happiness was painstakingly cut out by Liam himself, after almost half a month of sleepless nights. Back then, he was still stationed at the Northwood Police Department. We didn’t have to endure the agony of separation, and I didn’t need to live in constant fear. Fear of something happening to him, fear of him dying in a foreign land. Back then, our future was nothing but smooth sailing. Just like Sam used to tease, a little enviously, “You guys are killing us single folks with all that PDA.” See, I thought of Sam again. I remembered that day when he and Liam left, my eyes red and swollen as I saw them off. Sam had patted his chest then, confidently promising: “Don’t worry, Alice, as long as I have breath in my body, I’ll bring your man back!” Sam never came back. My Liam, it seems, never came back either.

I sniffled, wiping away my tears. I lay down on the couch and covered my face with a pillow. If I didn’t see, didn’t think, I wouldn’t be sad. If I didn’t remember, didn’t look back, things would eventually pass. I lay there for a while and soon fell asleep. In my hazy sleep, Lucky seemed to be whining in my ear. It seemed to be urgently licking the back of my hand. I wanted to open my eyes, but I felt incredibly sleepy. Faint knocking sounds from outside the door. I couldn’t tell if it was reality or a dream. In the air, a strange smell seemed to begin to permeate. Until much later, the world suddenly became quiet again. All the chaotic sounds in my ears vanished. In my hazy state, I half-opened my eyes and thought I saw Liam sitting beside me. His eyes were so gentle and moving, just like when he still loved me. But I only caught a glimpse before his broad palm covered my eyes. Everything vanished from my sight, and only his low, tender voice remained in my ears: “Shhh, go back to sleep.” I knew it was just a dream. My Liam, he would never come to see me like this again. I seemed to have slept for a very long time. My body was alternately hot and cold, like I had a high fever. In a daze, I seemed to have taken medicine, and a soft, cool towel was placed on my forehead. The fluctuating heat and cold slowly receded, and a wave of exhaustion swept over me. When I woke again, it was probably past midnight. Silence all around. I opened my eyes and actually saw Liam’s back.

The man stood by the wide-open window at the end of the living room. He must have been smoking. At his feet, Lucky had transformed into a fawning dog, its tail wagging like a propeller. It clearly wanted to express its joy at a long-awaited reunion. But Liam didn’t understand, only taking it for a silly dog. I felt like I hadn’t truly woken up. As I considered closing my eyes again, the man by the window turned around. Our eyes met, and my heart felt like it had been violently struck by a heavy object. The scene was so familiar that I even started to fantasize that he and I were still ‘us’. Until Liam’s clearly distant voice broke the silence: “You’re awake.” My consciousness slowly returned, and I began to confirm this wasn’t a hallucination. I practically sprang from the couch, staring at him in disbelief: “You… how did you get here? How did you get in?” Liam explained calmly: “I needed to talk to you. I asked Captain Miller for your address.” I started to wonder if I was losing my mind, or if he was. “But how did you get inside?” Liam extinguished the cigarette he was holding, then walked over and sat on the couch opposite me. “When I arrived, the building manager was just muttering angrily as he left your place. “He said you’d left the gas on, and you and the dog almost died in there. He even gave me a strange lecture.” It was then that I suddenly remembered I had been boiling water for noodles in the kitchen before I fell asleep. It must have been a gas leak, the smell spreading out, which is why the building manager came in. The building manager probably still recognized Liam, so letting him in and even lecturing him made sense. I tried hard to control my heart, which was pounding like a drum, and asked him, “What do you need to talk about?”

Lucky started to rub against Liam again. Liam pushed it away disdainfully, but it quickly stuck to him once more. I stifled the ache in my heart and explained, “I’m sorry, he’s very friendly, affectionate with everyone. “Once, I took him out, and he wagged his tail and almost ran off with someone…” Realizing I was explaining too much and sounding defensive, I shut my mouth. Liam wasn’t interested in Lucky, nor was he interested in talking about it. He got straight to the point: “Alice, my fiancée is very bothered by your harassment these past two days. “She insists I have an affair with you and is now threatening to break up with me unless you agree to move abroad.” He said this completely unfazed. I chewed on his words, and a sting of pain pierced my heart: “Mr. Miller, I thought we had an agreement. “I resigned, and you said we would drop it there.” Liam’s attitude was stubborn and unreasonable. “I just want my fiancée to be happy. You don’t have a job here anyway, you can find a new one abroad.” His words were infuriating, and I couldn’t help but frown. Liam, however, seemed to think I was trying to negotiate. He looked rather disdainful: “Name your price, and I’ll give you a sum of money. But you can’t come back for at least a year.” I looked up at him, suddenly feeling very distant. His expression was aggressive, his tone self-righteous. He said we’d drop it if I resigned, but now he was going back on his word, and he clearly didn’t see anything wrong with it. Liam grew even more impatient with my hesitation: “I truly value my relationship with my fiancée. “I don’t want to discuss this with you further. Just name your price, then go abroad.” I didn’t know how he’d fared these past two years, how much money he’d made. But his posture at this moment was exactly like a rich, unreasonable tycoon. He directly tossed a bank card onto the table in front of me. “Fifty thousand. Is that enough?”

I stared at his face. After a long moment, I still smiled and took the card. “Of course, that’s enough! It’s several years’ worth of my salary.” Staying in Northwood to watch him marry his fiancée and start a family really didn’t hold much appeal. Seeing the lingering suspicion on his face, I added, “Don’t worry, I’ll leave tomorrow morning.” Liam’s expression finally softened a little. He didn’t forget to take out a prepared pen and paper and had me sign an agreement. Then he stood up and said, “I hope you keep your word.” He walked towards the door. Lucky shot after him, biting his pant leg and whimpering. Liam walked out the door, but Lucky still wouldn’t let go. His face showed an extremely impatient expression. I barely recognized the man he was now. I even thought he was about to harshly kick Lucky. So I hurried after him, forcefully pulling Lucky away. After ushering it back inside, I slammed the door shut. The door closed, and only then did I realize. The dog couldn’t get out, but I couldn’t get back in either. My eyes were red, and I awkwardly said, “I’ll go downstairs and ask the building manager for the key.” Liam ignored me. He walked ahead, and I followed behind, both of us entering the elevator. I looked at our shadows on the floor, and couldn’t help but secretly reach out, touching the shadow of his arm. Inside the elevator, Liam pressed the basement floor, and I pressed the first floor. The elevator doors opened on the first floor. I thought I saw a shadow flash by outside. But there were many people living in the complex, so coming and going wasn’t unusual. So I didn’t think much of it and walked straight out. But Liam followed. I turned, looking at him with some confusion. Liam looked down at me, observing for a long time, so long that I started to feel uneasy. Then he finally spoke, his voice low and pleasant: “Alice. Alice Hayes.” He paused slightly, then continued, “I know, we’ve met before, a long time ago.”

My mind exploded. I stared at him, my eyes almost bulging: “You remember?” A sudden surge of joy washed over me, but looking at his expression, I was suddenly doused with a bucket of cold water. If Liam truly remembered, how could he be so calm? The man’s face was utterly devoid of emotion, looking at my strong reaction as if I were a clown. He slowly explained: “Captain Miller told me. “He said that you and I knew each other since childhood, and even got married three years ago. But two years ago, we divorced.” He paused again: “But, so what?” So what? Our twenty years of history, everything. He dismissed it with a few casual words and a “so what?” I felt dizzy. I pulled at the corners of my mouth, trying to maintain some dignity. Yes, so what? So what? He didn’t care, and I didn’t have to care that much either. But when I smiled, it was probably uglier than crying. Liam must have noticed my concern, and his expression showed disgust and annoyance. As if I were some stubborn, unwanted stain. He made no attempt to hide his disdain: “When an ex-husband has a fiancée, the ex-wife shouldn’t keep clinging. “We’re divorced. I have no interest in our past together.” I felt like my body was on a torture rack, being slowly dismembered. “I have no interest in our past together.” “No interest…” “No interest…” I looked at him, feeling that the person before me was just a blur. He no longer seemed like Liam, even that face seemed to have become unfamiliar. The voice of the person before me continued: “I’ve changed my mind. I don’t want to recover my old memories anymore. “Now I only love my fiancée, and I hope you, Alice, understand and keep your word to leave soon.” I finally couldn’t listen anymore. Before he could finish, I interrupted him: “Okay, I get it.” I walked past him and headed for the building management office. One more second, and I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to control myself. The last shred of my pitiful dignity made me unwilling for him to see my breakdown. Because I knew that by now, he would only see it as a joke. Everything about me was just a joke. Despicable, pathetic, disgusting and repulsive. I practically fled to the building manager’s office, terrified of hearing another word from behind me. After getting the spare key, I stood in the shadows of the complex for a long time. Only when I was sure Liam had left did I slowly walk to the elevator and go back to my apartment. Lucky was still inside, frantically scratching at the door. The moment I opened it, it shot out, heading straight for the elevator.

Over the years, the pitiful little puppy had grown quite large. When it burst out, I almost got knocked over. I saw it run to the elevator, desperately scratching at the elevator door with its paws. When I walked over and hugged it, it looked at me, whimpering softly. This careless, silly dog, it turns out, could also have watery eyes. It looked anxious and helpless, biting my pant leg. It wanted me to open the elevator door, to chase Liam back. I stroked its head, my voice catching in a sob: “I’m sorry, he doesn’t remember us. I can’t keep him anymore.” Lucky seemed to understand. It leaned against me, placing its paw in my hand. As if it was sad, and also as if it was comforting me. The sound-activated light in the hallway went out. We, one person and one dog, huddled in the darkness, sharing our misery. After a long while, I finally stood up, taking Lucky back to my room. My phone suddenly rang late at night, and I answered. Captain Miller’s voice came through: “Alice, I found you a job. “At a Chinese hospital in London. I sent you the details, you might want to consider it.” Every time he contacted me over these past two years, his words always carried an undertone of guilt. Probably because, three years ago, he had recommended Liam and Sam to become narcotics officers. Three years ago, the day before Liam and my wedding. The officiant for our wedding was the director of the orphanage where we grew up. The director, a man in his sixties, was both excited and nervous about officiating a wedding for the first time. The day before the wedding, he rehearsed over and over again on the altar of the already set-up wedding venue. His excited, booming voice resonated from the stage: “Next, let our groom deeply kiss our bride!” Liam and I sat in the audience, laughing heartily at his antics. Liam extended his arm, pulling me close to him: “Alice, the mood is just right. Let’s practice too…” He leaned in, about to kiss me. A gunshot rang out at that very moment. When I looked at the stage again. The director, once energetic and in a sharp suit, was now lying on the ground. Blood gushed from his chest like a fountain.

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On the day I snagged the International Violin Gold, a five-year-old video of mine mysteriously resurfaced. In the clip, torrential rain lashed down. I was kneeling beside a man, covered in blood, lying on the ground. I screamed, my voice raw, begging for help, my face a mask of terror and despair. That very night, Adrian, who hadn’t contacted me in the five years since we broke up, called. His voice, raw with disbelief and a painful uncertainty, cracked: “You… you actually cared about me? Why, for all these years, did I never know?” I discovered the five-year-old video had been leaked just as I was leaving a celebration dinner, hailing a ride-share to go home. In our music studio’s SnapChat group, someone had forwarded the leaked video. Several people were tagging me. “Is that really you, Iris? Must be a rumor, right?” “Iris has always been so reserved, so cool and composed. The person in the video might look a little like her, but it can’t possibly be our senior.” “Am I the only one curious about who the guy on the ground is?” The group chat buzzed with speculation. When I didn’t reply, the conversation slowly shifted back to congratulating me on winning the International Violin Gold. I sent a quick “Thank you” in the chat. No response to the video questions. As the city lights flickered on, the night air grew cold and sharp. I opened the video, watching that heart-wrenching version of myself. She felt like a stranger, distant, like a ghost from a past life. My phone rang just then—a long string of unfamiliar numbers. I usually didn’t answer unknown calls and was about to hang up. But watching that video had me distracted. My thumb slipped, and somehow, I hit “answer.” On the other end, Adrian, whom I hadn’t heard from in five years, spoke, his voice clearly agitated: “Is that really you in the video?” That all-too-familiar voice, cool yet laced with undeniable urgency, hit me unexpectedly. It was like an unseen hand suddenly, violently, clutched my heart. My breath hitched, sharp and ragged, as if a dark, humiliating secret had been yanked into the light. I fumbled, almost dropping the phone, desperate to hang up. His voice on the line seemed to tremble: “You… you actually cared about me? Why, for all these years, did I never know?”

My finger, poised to end the call, froze in that instant. The evening street pulsed with a relentless tide of traffic. My throat felt dry and tight. I stood rigidly on the sidewalk. After a long silence, I spoke softly: “It doesn’t matter anymore.” He seemed to let out a short, bitter laugh on the other end. “Doesn’t matter?” “Right, for someone like you, what could ever matter besides yourself?” A brutal, sudden ache tore through me, and for a moment, I lost my bearings. It wasn’t until a piercing car horn blared beside me that I snapped back to reality, realizing I was standing in the middle of a crosswalk. The green light for pedestrians had long since turned red. A car screeched to a halt right next to me. The driver rolled down their window, yelling something, their face contorted in anger. I didn’t hear a word. Perhaps it was the deepening twilight, or some other reason. My eyes burned, and my vision blurred. When the world around me stabilized, I walked to the other side of the street. The call had already ended. That familiar, long-unheard voice was gone from my phone. It felt like nothing more than a fleeting illusion.

After he hung up, I caught a ride-share home. When I arrived, my mom called, no pleasantries, just down to business. “I’ve arranged a solo recital for you at the Vienna Golden Hall at the end of next month. “Get ready. Don’t you dare embarrass me.” I walked through the door, my violin case on my back, fumbling in the dark entryway for the light switch. Then, I responded coolly: “I’m not going.” On the other end, my mom’s voice was filled with furious disbelief: “What did you say? Don’t you dare forget your grandmother’s ashes…” I hung up before she could finish. My father’s stepdaughter had just given a piano recital in London last week. That was why my mom was so frantic to get to me. After tidying up, I lay on my bed. Moonlight seeped through the sheer curtains, spilling across the floor. Suddenly, I remembered years ago, someone holding me close, murmuring softly: “Sweet Iris, sweet Iris, you look so unhappy.” “Sweet Iris, sweet Iris, tell me what you want, and I’ll give it to you, okay?” That person’s voice and shadow flickered in my mind. In my dreams, it was the year he declared his love for me to the entire world.

Adrian and I got together seven years ago. Other male celebrities, freshly famous, avoided relationships and rumors like the plague. But he, on the very night he won the Best Actor award, at the peak of his career. Held up his trophy on that grand, public stage, and the first words out of his mouth were: “First, I have to thank my girlfriend…” He announced, with passionate devotion: “My sweetheart is an incredibly talented violinist.” His fans screamed protests. Overnight, Adrian lost over a million followers. Yet he remained unrepentant, immediately posting publicly: “If I have to choose, I can give up my career, but I will never give up the one I love.” His agency was furious, practically spitting blood, and completely blacklisted him for over half a year. After being blacklisted, Adrian lost his career, his future. He became the laughingstock of the entire industry. At his lowest point, dazed and disoriented, he got into a car accident. He lay in the hospital for over ten days, weak and frail, calling me. But he never once saw me, not even for a moment. Several months later, his stomach ulcer flared up, sending him back to the hospital. That night, he called me repeatedly. The man who’d always been so wild and carefree, for the first time, pleaded with me like a lost child. He said, “Sweet Iris, I’m in pain. Please come see me.” At the time, I was sitting in my practice room, working on a piece. My fingers, mid-strum on the violin strings, barely paused. I asked, my voice flat, “Is it critical? Is your life in danger?”

The other end of the line fell silent, a long, heavy pause. After a while, he simply said two short words: “No.” I looked out at the deepening night sky, then replied, “Then can I come tomorrow? It’s pretty late now.” Adrian forced the words out, his teeth practically grinding: “Iris Clarke, I was in the ER.” I nodded, then remembered he couldn’t see me, so I added, “Oh. So you’re out now, right?” After a moment of dead silence, a violent crash erupted, the sound of something being brutally smashed. My hand, resting on my violin, trembled. After the commotion subsided, his voice came through, cold as ice: “I’m out.” “So, you’re still planning to come tomorrow?” I thought about it: “Tomorrow afternoon, maybe. I still have…” He cut me off abruptly, his voice chilling: “Iris Clarke, did you ever love me?” My expression froze in an instant. I heard Adrian’s voice, filled with crushing disappointment: “Why are you always so calm? “Why, when it comes to everything about me, everything about *us*, are you always so collected?” He paused, then let out a soft, mirthless laugh: “No, not calm. It’s cold. You’re cold.” I opened my mouth, but my throat felt choked with cotton. No words came out. Time stretched on, feeling like an eternity. Finally, I heard Adrian calm himself, letting out a sigh: “Iris Clarke, let’s break up.” With a sudden *thump*, my violin slipped from my grasp and hit the floor. I scrambled up, bending to pick it up, only to find my hands shaking uncontrollably. The call duration was still ticking. I picked up the violin, sat back on the sofa. Outside, the night was a suffocating, impenetrable black, as if all light had been swallowed whole. After a long, drawn-out moment, I softly said, “Okay.” On the other end, Adrian laughed, a hollow, bitter sound: “Okay, hahah, okay.” “Iris Clarke, Iris Clarke, what is your heart made of?” After that, Adrian left the country, and we never saw each other again. Two years of a relationship, and we didn’t even have a face-to-face goodbye.

I tossed and turned all night. When I finally woke up late the next day, the first thing I saw on my phone was news of Adrian’s return to the country. The man who had been rumored to be single for five years. This time, unusually, he was with a young woman. The girl wore a mask, so her face wasn’t clear. But I had a strange feeling her eyes looked familiar. For the past five years, the internet had buzzed with rumors. Adrian remained single, they said, because he hadn’t moved on from that mysterious violinist. But now, he’d forgone the airport’s VIP lounge. Instead, he walked through the regular terminal with the girl by his side. Fans at the airport, thrilled by the rare chance to see their idol up close, went wild. Security couldn’t hold them back; the crowd surged toward Adrian multiple times. Adrian instinctively reached out, naturally shielding the girl by pulling her closer to his side. The scene was like a new discovery, screams rising in pitch. Undoubtedly, Adrian’s first new romance in five years would soon explode across the trending topics. I looked at the familiar, long-unseen face in the news, momentarily lost in thought. A sudden, sharp pang shot through my chest, abrupt and without reason. I had thought my connection with Adrian had ended with that last phone call. Someone I hadn’t seen in five years, I never expected to see again. But the very next day, when my teacher called me to the set, there he was.

Having won the International Violin Gold and making my first public appearance, my online presence was currently sky-high. Director Miller, a renowned filmmaker, personally called, inviting me to cameo as a violinist in his new movie. My teacher urged me to take it, saying it was a fantastic opportunity. I didn’t want to go. She tried to persuade me: “Iris, you can’t stay hidden forever. “That whole affair, it was years ago. No one remembers it anymore. “Look, when you revealed your face after winning the gold, no one recognized you, did they?” She had mentored me for over a decade, always considering me her most brilliant student. Naturally, she hoped I would shine. I hesitated all night, but in the end, I went. I just never expected Adrian to be there. When I noticed him, he was lounging in a director’s chair, lazily soaking up the sun. The man once blacklisted by his agency had long since reclaimed his top spot in the entertainment industry. He seemed to sense my gaze. He turned his head, glancing at me. It was a casual, fleeting look, his face devoid of any expression. Instead of seeing him as an ex I hadn’t seen in five years, it felt more like we were complete strangers. But at that moment, what truly captured my attention wasn’t him. It was the girl sitting right next to him—the same one he was with at the airport yesterday. Now, the girl had taken off her mask, and I recognized her face. It was Chloe Clarke, my father’s stepdaughter. I couldn’t even remember how many years it had been since I last saw Chloe. Her face suddenly crashing into my line of sight felt like a needle violently piercing my brain. My stomach lurched, churning violently. The bright sunlight hit me, and I swayed, almost collapsing in front of everyone. In that dizzying moment, I vaguely saw Adrian’s expression change as he looked my way. One hand, casually draped over the armrest of his chair, tightened, as if he were about to spring up.

But just as quickly, his clenched hand relaxed. The intense emotion that had momentarily surged across his face rapidly dissipated, as if nothing had happened. Before I could fall, my teacher, with lightning-fast reflexes, reached out and steadied me. My teacher knew all about my family affairs. She recognized Chloe, and couldn’t help but curse under her breath. Her tone was utterly disgusted: “How did *she* end up here?” I forced myself to stand steady, to calm down. Then I replied, “She must be… with Adrian now.” My teacher quickly put it together: “The one photographed at the airport yesterday, that was her?” I nodded. My teacher’s expression grew even gloomier: “What a coincidence. This Adrian, is he trying to spite you on purpose?” I quietly denied it: “I don’t think so.” Not only had Adrian and I broken up years ago, but he had no reason to waste his time trying to annoy me now. Besides, he had no idea about my family situation, he didn’t know my family. I had a bad feeling that Chloe would stir up trouble for me. Sure enough, that afternoon, while I was practicing violin in the cast lounge. Director Miller came to find me, with Chloe in tow, looking clearly uncomfortable. As they entered, Adrian stood in the doorway of the lounge, watching me with a smirk that wasn’t quite a smile. His expression even held a hint of schadenfreude. Director Miller hesitated, then started: “Um, Iris…” “Ms. Chloe Clarke says she discussed it with you. “She says the scene where you play the violin in the church… you agreed she’d perform it instead? Is that right?” Chloe didn’t even wait for my response, smiling brightly: “Yes, I’ll play the piano instead. “A piano performance in the church would have an even better atmosphere, don’t you think?” I cut her off directly: “She never discussed switching roles with me.” Director Miller’s face immediately turned awkward. From the doorway, Adrian’s voice, laced with coldness, drifted in: “Well, she’s telling you now.”

Chloe’s face was alight with undisguised triumph. Her demeanor was arrogant, yet her voice remained sweet and soft: “Adrian said if the production team isn’t willing to give me even such a small role, “Then he might have to reconsider playing the male lead.” Director Miller instantly struggled to suppress his anger, glaring at Adrian in the doorway. Adrian, however, looked completely unfazed, a faint smile in his eyes as he leaned against the doorframe. He was clearly indulging Chloe’s mischief. Director Miller’s face was ashen with rage. After a long moment, he could only manage a furious “This is absurd!” He couldn’t bring himself to tell me to leave, but he was powerless. I picked up my violin, stood, and said flatly, “Just give it to her. I don’t mind.” Chloe’s smile grew even wider, more triumphant. Director Miller stormed off, fuming. I slung my violin case over my shoulder and walked out. As I passed Adrian, I couldn’t help but say, “She’s not right for you.” It wasn’t a critique, but an uncontrollable urge to warn him. I said it and moved to leave. But Adrian suddenly reached out, his palm gripping my arm. When I looked down, I saw the veins bulging on the back of his hand.

Chloe walked over, her face a picture of grievance, calling out softly, “Adrian.” Adrian’s expression became incredibly irritated. He spoke, suppressing his temper: “Go wait outside.” Chloe glared at me hatefully, but she left. It had been years since Adrian and I had been alone, and my palm was already slick with sweat. I couldn’t pull my hand free, so I lifted my gaze, trying to look at him calmly: “I was just giving you some friendly advice. Believe it or not, it’s up to you.” Adrian’s face darkened. He yanked my arm, pulling me roughly back into the room. Then he lifted his foot and kicked the door shut with unprecedented force. *Bang!* The door automatically locked. My heart hammered in my chest, and a sudden prickle of fear ran through me. His large hand pressed onto my shoulder. My back was against the door, and I felt his gaze on me, like a knife, seemingly trying to bore a hole straight through me. “She’s not right for me. Then who is? *You*?” “Iris Clarke, what have you meant all these years? Am I just some game to you?!” His grip tightened, relentlessly, on my shoulder. A sharp ache shot through me. I watched the intense resentment and stubborn bitterness surge in his eyes, no longer concealed. I drew a shallow breath. “Adrian, it’s over between us. Please, calm down.” “If what I just said upset you, then I apologize. Pretend I never said it.” The anger on his face deepened, his ragged breaths seeming to carry a hint of hatred. “What’s said is said, what’s done is done. “Iris Clarke, why should I pretend it never happened just because you say so?” I had never seen Adrian so relentless, so insistent. Five years ago, when he gave up on me entirely and broke up, it was just one sentence. I agreed, and then I left. After that, we never spoke. This kind of entanglement, it wasn’t like him at all. A sudden headache began to throb behind my eyes. “What exactly do you want from me?”

Adrian’s hand, still pressing on my shoulder, began to tremble slightly. He stared at me, his gaze piercing: “Five years ago, when I had that car accident, you cried beside me in the pouring rain. Why? “Someone as heartless as you, who doesn’t even need a goodbye to break up, why did *you* cry?” His face was almost distorted with anguish, yet I remained perfectly calm. I watched him, watched his emotions spiral out of control, almost roaring with fury. But my voice remained steady: “Adrian, this isn’t you.” He visibly flinched. Then he finally let go of me, his thin lips even starting to tremble. It was as if something was lodged in his chest, threatening to make him explode. The man started smashing everything he could see, *bang, crash, clatter*, until nothing was left. Finally, still not satisfied, he kicked over the coffee table and chairs. I huddled against the wall, trying to take up as little space as possible. No matter how hard I tried to stay calm, my body couldn’t stop trembling. Many, many years ago, I had faced this exact scene. The bedroom, a wreckage, like the end of the world. Adrian lifted the last stool from the vanity, about to smash it to the ground. He finally turned his head, noticing me huddled in the corner. Our eyes met. My face, at that moment, was probably far from good. His angry, ashen face froze the instant his gaze met mine. The stool in his hand never hit the floor. He looked at me, curled in the corner, his expression strange. He held the stool, motionless, for a long, long time. After an unknown duration, he finally put the stool down, his face dark. He walked past the wreckage, silently heading for the door. I clutched the nearby curtain, my hand shaking violently. But the man at the doorway paused. He didn’t turn around, his voice low and weary: “You should go home. Don’t bother coming to the set anymore.” I slowly sank to the floor, curling into myself, and stayed in that lounge for a very long time.

By the time I left, Adrian and Chloe had already gone. News quickly broke online that Chloe would be replacing me in Director Miller’s new film. As for the reason, Chloe posted on Ins: “A last-minute invitation. Thank you, Director Miller, for your trust.” As soon as that post went up, public opinion quickly turned against me. They said I was throwing my weight around after winning the gold medal, ditching the film crew. That Director Miller had been forced to find Chloe as an emergency replacement. Someone was clearly orchestrating this, and the voices criticizing me grew louder and louder. I recognized one of the most aggressive accounts—it was likely Chloe’s alt account. Chloe had always had it out for me. But on her own, without Adrian’s help, she couldn’t have stirred up such a massive storm. I had never seen Adrian abandon his principles and boundaries to indulge someone like this. The online noise became unbearable. I simply disconnected my phone from the internet, and then, completely turned it off. As evening approached, my mom stormed over. The doorbell rang frantically. When I opened the door, she raised her hand and slapped me across the face. Her face was trembling with rage: “To be made a fool of, like a goddamn monkey, by that hussy’s daughter! How could I have given birth to such a pathetic, spineless waste like you?!” Half my face stung, burning. My head snapped to the side, but I didn’t utter a sound. My mom seemed completely unhinged. She grabbed my face, forcing me to look at her. Indeed, for years now, she had lived like a madwoman. Her tone was filled with scorn: “To have even this small role snatched by that hussy, and your ex-boyfriend too! “You deserve to be tormented by that hussy and her daughter your whole life, to lose your own father…” I looked up sharply, cutting her off with a piercing cry: “Mom, that’s enough!” My mom seemed to snap back to reality herself, a flicker of unnaturalness in her expression. She finally stopped talking. She spat out “Useless!” and slammed the door shut behind her. That night was a torment, haunted by nightmares.

I was twelve years old when my mom took me from my grandmother’s house in the small town. On the day she took me, her voice was laced with a morbid frenzy: “My sweet girl, now you can finally get revenge for Mommy!” “Let those hussies see who the real genius is! “What’s so great about her daughter playing the piano?” After that, I never saw my grandmother again. My mom said that once I won first place in the school violin competition, she’d let me visit Grandma. Later, when I won, she said I had to win first in the city. Until I was nineteen, when I won the national gold medal. But my grandmother had passed away that very morning, the day I won the award. My grandmother had received the news, knowing I would come to see her once I won. So she clung to life, holding her breath until the day of my competition, but ultimately, she didn’t make it to the moment I could see her. Seven years of longing, and in the end, all I could embrace was an urn of ashes. From then on, my emotions seemed to go numb. I didn’t quite know how to love anymore. Nor did I know how to express affection or liking. My mom and I had a huge fight. She cursed me for being ungrateful, sending me off to my father’s house, throwing me into another abyss. That night, my father, reeking of alcohol, burst into my bedroom. He held me, tearing at my clothes. But the name he whispered was Chloe’s. My world completely shattered.

At the last moment, my father was struck on the head by a lamp I grabbed, which barely brought him back to his senses. By the time my mom arrived, I was desperately wrapped in a blanket, almost naked. Chloe and her mother stood in the bedroom, their faces etched with guilt and panic. I never knew such disgusting things could exist in this world. Chloe’s mother, who had been the mistress years ago, slowly grew older. Seeing my father with a new lover, she feared being cast out. She had actually convinced her own daughter to throw herself at him. I sat on the bed for a very long time, violently gagging. My mom smashed everything in the bedroom, cursing Chloe and her mother with the most vicious words. Yet not a single word was directed at my father. Not a single word was in my defense. The room was a disaster zone, a wreck that felt apocalyptic. But in the end, everyone tried to persuade me to make peace and let it go. But I refused. I had a camera in my bedroom, originally intended to record myself practicing violin to send to my teacher. By a twisted stroke of fate, it had captured something vile. I took the video to the police station. But the officer who watched it had a very strange expression. He advised me, “After all, it didn’t go all the way. “A young lady has her reputation to think of. Maybe it’s best to just… let this go.” I didn’t understand. I wasn’t the one who did something wrong, so why should *I* be afraid of losing my reputation? When the police wouldn’t help me, I uploaded the video online and contacted media reporters. The internet exploded. Countless people remembered my nineteen-year-old face. Many sympathized with me, but more, far more, watched as if it were a sick joke. Online public opinion was relentless. My father lost his job and was detained for three months. My mom went mad, her face distorted as she yanked at my hair. She cried and screamed at me: “Aren’t you ashamed?! “Do you even know what shame is, what dignity is?!” I let her scream and hit me, feeling only a profound confusion. It seemed I had not only lost the ability to love, but also began to lose my sense of dignity and shame. All that remained was a chillingly detached logic, guiding me on how to simply *function*. My mom shrieked at me, “Do you have any heart at all?” Just as years later, on the day Adrian and I broke up. He, utterly disappointed, had demanded of me, “Iris Clarke, do you have any heart at all?”

I had no heart. So I was unworthy of loving, and unworthy of being loved. The night terrors tortured me, leaving me aching and exhausted. Due to the online backlash, my teacher asked me to cancel my schedule for the next few days. I spent many days at home in a daze. Washing my face one morning, I looked at myself in the bathroom mirror. My pajama collar was low, revealing a small tattoo beneath my collarbone. A small, unassuming tattoo: a delicate heart intertwined with ‘Adrian’. Whenever I went out, my clothes would meticulously cover it. For all these years, no one but me knew it was there. Just as my heart, burning bright and fervent, had been hidden in the shadows. But it had never once been offered up for anyone to see. I had endured too much suffering; I dared not love again, dared not speak of love. Once, I said I loved my grandmother. Yet I left her alone and waiting for me for seven long years. Later, I loved my mother. I painstakingly sewed her a scarf for New Year’s. What I got in return was a slap across the face and a lecture for wasting my time on meaningless things. Even later, I loved my father. What I got in return was the most vile and unspeakable truth. After Adrian and I broke up, for a long time, I reflected deeply. I realized I *had* loved him. I would break down and cry when he was in a car accident. I would want to share my victories with him, like winning a major award. I would travel for over ten hours straight, rushing to the city where he was on business. I would endure excruciating pain to get his name tattooed, despite being allergic to anesthetics. But I couldn’t express my love with my eyes, couldn’t say the words “I love you.” I slowly extinguished the passionate, fiery heart he had carefully offered me. Many times, he would excitedly tell me he loved me, but all I felt was a bewildering emptiness. I thought, I must not be normal. After Adrian and I broke up, my mentor introduced me to a psychologist, and I went for a few sessions. Only later did I learn that I truly wasn’t normal. The doctor said I had Emotional Detachment Disorder. He said it was a psychological condition. Emotional detachment, a dulled reaction and perception of emotions.

I underwent a long period of therapy. And slowly, I began to feel a sense of shame about having publicly revealed the incident with my father at nineteen. Fortunately, my appearance now differed significantly from when I was nineteen. Plus, so many years had passed, no one would truly recognize me anymore. But I remained restless. It wasn’t until recently, at my teacher’s urging, that I dared to perform on stage without a mask for the first time. After therapy, I gradually began to understand Adrian’s past accusations and disappointment. No one can tolerate pouring out their entire heart for so long, only to receive no response. But I had, in fact, responded. I just didn’t understand it back then. So many things I had quietly done for Adrian, I never mentioned, thinking I didn’t need to. After many days at home, my fridge was empty. I had no choice but to go out and buy groceries. I hadn’t checked my phone in days, so I didn’t know I was being relentlessly cyberbullied online. I had underestimated Chloe’s hatred for me. Using Adrian’s indulgence, she relentlessly twisted and amplified the story of me no longer starring in Director Miller’s film. Then she fabricated countless other stories, wildly slandering and defaming me. She claimed I had questionable character, indecent behavior, and that my awards were undeserved. And my many days of not checking my phone, of not responding, were twisted into an admission of guilt, a fear of showing my face. A massive wave of paid trolls hired by Chloe, combined with a crowd of misled internet users, even began clamoring to ‘dox’ me. They demanded to dig up my past, my family situation, and every experience I’d ever had. I knew nothing of this. I had assumed the online commotion from a few days ago had long since died down. When I went to the mall, I didn’t even wear a mask. But as soon as I entered the mall doors, I felt someone staring at me from behind. Before I could even turn around, Adrian, who seemed to appear out of nowhere, grabbed my arm. By the time I fully processed it, he had already pulled me into a fire escape stairwell. Peeking through the crack in the door, I saw a large group of reporters rushing past. Their anxious voices vaguely reached my ears: “She definitely ran this way, how could she disappear?”

I looked, confused and bewildered, at the reporters rushing past. Then I tilted my head, looking at Adrian beside me. Adrian, I suppose, still understood me. So with one glance at my reaction, he knew I was still completely in the dark. He pulled out his phone, flipping through pages of overwhelming news, displaying them before me. Only then did I realize I was being cyberbullied. Adrian put away his phone, staring at me in the dim stairwell. His gaze was almost like a full-blown interrogation. “Iris Clarke, you know full well what you’ll face if I open this door.” I didn’t quite understand. Was he threatening me? But what did I have left that he could possibly threaten me with now? Adrian saw my silence, then gritted his teeth and continued: “So, are you still planning on telling me nothing?” My voice was full of doubt: “What do you want me to say?” Adrian abruptly took a step closer, his body almost touching mine. He spoke in a low, urgent voice: “Tell me why you cried when I had that car accident. “You cried, so why didn’t you tell me?” I looked at him silently. He grew even more impatient: “Iris Clarke, are you still going to play dumb? “Did you, back then, actually care about me, actually love me?” My hands, hanging at my sides, silently clenched into fists. I whispered, “It’s all in the past.” Adrian’s eyes suddenly turned bloodshot. It was as if I had uttered words that deeply provoked him. His voice was almost a snarl, filled with hatred and stubborn resentment: “It’s not in the past! For me, it’s not over, and it never will be!” A throbbing pain started in my head. I looked at him, and suddenly, I felt a pang of sadness too: “What if I did love you? Adrian, it’s long over between us. Can we really start over?” I didn’t know if it was my imagination, but I saw a flicker of hope light up in the eyes of the man before me. He stared at me intently, his voice trembling: “What if we start over? What’s stopping us?” I looked at Adrian, nearly hysterical in that moment. For an instant, I had the strange illusion of being transported back in time. To when he, heedless of any consequences, publicly declared our relationship on the awards stage. Five years had passed, yet his eyes seemed unchanged. My throat suddenly tightened. Somehow, I found myself asking: “How far have things gone between you and Chloe?”

Adrian was visibly stunned; he probably never expected me to ask that. But he quickly replied, “Every step. “Holding hands, kissing, living together. Every single step.” In my heart, something utterly shattered, crashing to pieces. My mind replayed a specific afternoon. I pushed open a door, only to see my father pinning Chloe against the sofa. An image seared into my memory, never to be forgotten. My stomach lurched, churning violently. For the first time, I felt a wave of disgust toward Adrian. Adrian continued to stare at me intently: “Iris Clarke, are you jealous? “You said Chloe wasn’t right for me before. You love me, you’re just jealous, aren’t you?” As he spoke, he reached out to grab my arm. But I suddenly snapped back to reality, jolted as if by lightning, quickly pulling away from his hand. I even stumbled back a few steps, frantically creating distance between us. Adrian froze, his face confused and bewildered. Having put enough space between us, I looked up at him, my heart now completely devoid of emotion. I spoke, almost enunciating each word: “Adrian, I never loved you. “Not then, not now, not ever.” I watched the light in his eyes, like a falling flame, die out. He even shook his head, looking lost: “I don’t believe it. I don’t believe it.” My mind was filled only with the imagined scenes. Scenes of him and Chloe, entangled, intimate. I felt almost suffocated, yet I forced myself to look at him calmly: “Believe it or not. “Whether I loved you or not, didn’t you see it most clearly five years ago?” If he hadn’t believed back then, hadn’t been resentful, that I had never loved him, He wouldn’t be this bitter, this hateful toward me even now. Adrian’s expression was dazed. After a long moment, he seemed to finally regain his composure. Only coldness remained on his face, his voice laced with mockery: “Right. I should have known. I was just a damn fool.” I watched as his eyes reddened. His words, like daggers, pierced my heart. “Iris Clarke, I was such a damn fool for even coming back to ask you.” I closed my eyes, consumed by silence. From outside the fire exit, Chloe’s voice drifted in: “Adrian, are you and Ms. Iris Clarke in there?” Adrian didn’t hesitate for another second. His face was a mask of frost as he directly reached out and opened the door. By the time I remembered the reporters outside and tried to stop him, it was too late. The door swung open, and reporters swarmed in, engulfing me.

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