Author: Momo Chan

I was in the middle of buying cherries when my friend called, saying her company was urgently hiring and I needed to come in for an interview immediately. Pressed for time, I rushed over with the cherries still in hand. Before going into the interview, I specifically asked the receptionist to keep an eye on them for me. But when I came out, I found a group of people standing at the front desk, sharing my cherries. When I confronted them, all I got was dismissive ridicule: “New hires should bring gifts, isn’t that just standard etiquette?” “So stingy. If you actually get the job, you’re going to have a hard time here.” Just then, my friend came over. I asked her to back me up, but instead, she said: “It’s just treating future colleagues to some cherries. If you can’t even figure that out, how are you going to survive in the corporate world? You really don’t understand how things work.” 01 I picked up Sarah’s call right as I was paying for a bag of premium cherries. “Stella, where are you? It’s an emergency!” Before I could even say hello, she launched into a rapid-fire explanation: “Our Creative Department has an urgent opening. The pay is amazing. I recommended you directly, and the director loved your resume. He wants to know if you can come in for an interview right now.” Sarah landed a job as an HR specialist at a major tech firm right after graduation. Everyone in our dorm was envious. I was surprised and excited. “Right now?” “Yes, right now! This position is a golden ticket. If you miss this window, it’s gone. Get over here ASAP. Grab this opportunity, and we can hang out every day again.” Her tone was urgent, but she added a playful note at the end: “Plus, this counts towards my KPI, so don’t embarrass me, okay?” I laughed. “I won’t let you down.” Hanging up, I looked at the cherries in my hand. No time to go home and drop them off. Whatever. The interview was more important. Thirty minutes later, I stood panting in the lobby of NovaTech. Walking into an interview with a grocery bag felt unprofessional, so I approached the front desk. “Hi, I’m here for a last-minute interview. Could I possibly leave this here for a bit?” The receptionist was friendly and took the bag with a smile. “Of course.” She quickly wrote my last name and the time on a sticky note, slapped it on the bag, and set it aside. Relieved, I snapped a quick photo of the bag and texted Sarah. [I’m here! I left a box of cherries at the front desk. Keep an eye on them for me~] Sarah replied instantly: [Don’t worry. Good luck!] 02 The interviewer was a middle-aged man. His nameplate read: HR Director – Brian Lee. He took my resume, flipped through it carelessly, and tossed it aside. “I see you graduated from a top university. Why haven’t you found a job yet? Are your standards too high?” I frowned slightly but kept a polite smile plastered on my face. “I believe job hunting requires careful consideration. It’s not about being picky; it’s about being responsible to myself and my future employer.” He let out a dismissive scoff, leaning forward to scan me up and down like a searchlight. “Do you have a boyfriend?” I paused. Ignoring my reaction, he continued: “When do you plan on getting married? Do you have plans for children?” “I don’t want to train an employee only for her to run off on maternity leave. It impacts projects significantly.” The implications in his words made my skin crawl. I suddenly remembered how much Sarah hated hearing people talk like this back in college. Did she know her boss was like this? She was so good to me; I couldn’t let her be kept in the dark. Thinking this, I quietly started recording on my phone, planning to let Sarah listen later. Then I looked straight at Director Lee. “I don’t believe my personal relationship status has any direct correlation to my professional abilities. If you’re concerned about stability, I can walk you through my five-year career plan.” Unfortunately, he wasn’t interested in listening. He leaned back in his chair and dropped an even bigger bomb. “Five-year plan? Easier said than done.” “I’m not looking down on you, but the fact is, women have limited energy. Plus, if you get married, you have to balance the family.” He paused, his tone turning preachy. “Or do you think a woman’s ultimate place isn’t in the home?” I was so angry I almost laughed. What century was this? I took a deep breath, sat up straight, and stared him down. “First, I don’t believe energy levels are tied to gender. That depends on individual capability and drive.” “Second, where my ‘ultimate place’ is, is for me to decide, not my gender.” Brian Lee’s face darkened instantly. He probably hadn’t expected an interviewee to push back so directly. “In that case, go back and wait for a notification.” He clearly didn’t want to talk to me anymore. He stood up, dropped that line, and walked out of the room. My impression of this company had hit rock bottom. I just wanted to tell Sarah what happened. [Interview’s over. Are you free?] [That was fast. What’s up?] I told her I needed to talk and asked to meet in the lobby. I left the interview room. 03 To my surprise, when I got to the front desk, the company had another surprise waiting for me. Seven or eight employees were gathered there, laughing and eating something. I thought it was an office snack break until I got closer. They were eating my cherries. The clean countertop was littered with pits, and the fancy packaging was tossed to the side. The friendly receptionist from earlier was shrinking into the corner, head down, avoiding my gaze. My blood pressure spiked. “Excuse me, who said you could touch my things?” I walked up quickly and asked them directly. A man with slicked-back hair popped another cherry into his mouth without pausing. “Yo, is this you? The new interview candidate?” He glanced at me dismissively, his tone flippant. “Newbies should bring a greeting gift. It’s standard. Why are you being so petty?” As soon as he finished, someone else chimed in with a laugh. “Exactly. So stingy. You’re going to have a rough time if you get hired.” These unapologetic remarks only fueled my anger. Just then, Sarah walked over. She saw me, and for a split second, I saw a look of amusement in her eyes—like she was watching a show. But it vanished so fast I thought I imagined it. Seeing her felt like grabbing a lifeline. She was a full-time employee; surely she had more authority than me. “Sarah, perfect timing. You be the judge.” I grabbed her arm and pointed at the cherry carnage on the desk. “I left my stuff at the front desk. Why did they eat it without asking? And now they’re saying I don’t understand ‘human interaction.’ That’s unreasonable, right?” But Sarah frowned. Instead of backing me up, she pulled me aside forcefully, signaling me to stop talking. In a tone dripping with “disappointed parent,” she lectured me: “Stella, what are you doing? It’s just treating colleagues to some fruit. You’re about to work at a big tech company; don’t be so small-minded.” She paused, then added: “Besides, you left it on the front desk. It’s normal for people to think it was for everyone.” I stared at her in disbelief. The humiliation from the interviewer and the theft of my cherries paled in comparison to these two sentences. My best friend from college didn’t defend me. Instead, she blamed me. While I was speechless, a female colleague smirked and raised her phone, pointing the camera right at me. “Everyone look, the top-tier grad is throwing a tantrum over a box of cherries. I have to record this; it’s going to be my entertainment for the week.” Everyone around us laughed. 04 I glanced at Sarah, who hadn’t managed to hide her smile in time, and I started laughing too. Confused by my reaction, the laughter around me died down. “I think you’re right.” I stared at her, enunciating every word. “I am small-minded. Too small-minded to accept theft being rebranded as ‘office politics.’” I shifted my gaze from her paling face to the group of stunned “tech elites.” “Newbies should bring gifts? Who made that rule?” “Labor laws? Or company policy?” “If I had left a stack of cash here today, would you have felt entitled to divide that up too?” Slick-back Hair opened his mouth but couldn’t find words. I turned back to Sarah. She instinctively took a step back. “In college, if someone made a joke that crossed the line, you’d argue with them for three days.” “How is it that now, when my property is stolen and eaten, you say I’m the one who doesn’t get it? You need to educate me?” I stepped closer to her, trying to suppress my rage. “Your idea of ‘big picture’ is stepping on your best friend’s face to fit into your corporate family?” Sarah panicked. Her eyes darted around, avoiding mine. She stayed silent. The woman recording probably thought the drama was getting good, so she raised her phone higher. I ignored her and looked around. On the other side of the front desk was a spread of bubble tea and fancy cakes—clearly their afternoon tea order. Without a word, I walked over. Under everyone’s confused gaze, I picked the most expensive-looking bubble tea and the biggest cake. “You ate my cherries. I’m taking your afternoon tea as compensation. That’s fair, don’t you think?” Without waiting for a reaction from the stunned group, I hugged my “spoils” and walked out the front door without looking back. As soon as I got home, I blocked Sarah on everything. I thought that would be the end of it. But that night, I got another surprise. I was gaming when my other college roommate called, interrupting me. “Stella! Check Weibo! You’re trending!” Confused, I opened the link she sent. It was a video from a gossip account, with a clickbait title: [Entitled Gen Z Destroys Workplace? Grad Throws Tantrum Over Fruit, Steals Colleagues’ Tea!] The video showed me holding the cake and tea, saying, “That’s fair.” But not a single word about the context. Worse, even though my face was blurred, the top comment doxxed me completely. [I recognize her. That’s my college classmate. She’s always been self-centered with zero EQ. She thinks she’s better than everyone because she went to a good school. Guess she hasn’t changed.] They even posted a photo of me from college. Soon, my phone started vibrating uncontrollably as messages from strangers flooded in.

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1 Since I was little, I’ve been like a shadow, trailing behind my older brother, Tyler. To the outside world, we were the enviable siblings of the wealthy Shen family, raised in the lap of luxury. Our birthdays were lavish garden parties at our estate, the kind people posted about on Instagram for weeks. Tyler was the undisputed king of our social circle. Handsome, athletic, a piano prodigy, and effortlessly cool. He was every girl’s crush and every parent’s benchmark for “the perfect son.” And me? I was his personal assistant disguised as a sister. He chased the school queen bee; I delivered the love notes. He skipped class to hit the arcade; I covered for him during roll call. He didn’t feel like doing homework; I pulled all-nighters finishing his essays. Don’t ask why. The answer is simple: I’m the adopted daughter, Chloe. When we were kids, Tyler used to terrify me. He’d say he was the boss of the house, and if I didn’t listen to him, he’d have Mom and Dad ship me back to the foster system in a cardboard box. That one sentence traumatized me into a people-pleaser. I spent my life nodding and “yes, brother”-ing my way through existence. Until today. Tyler sent me on another errand to buy a specific artisanal sandwich for his crush, Jessica. Halfway there, my phone buzzed. It was a text from Tyler: [Yo, short stack, did you get the breakfast yet?] I was out of breath. [Quit rushing me. The bakery is halfway across town. I’m not doing this next time.] He replied with a smug emoji: [You always say that, but you always do it. By the way, I’m broke. Spent my allowance on a gift for Jessica. Put the errand fee on my tab.] [Also, your new ‘brother’ is coming home today. You better stand with me. When he gets here, we need to put him in his place.] Sure enough, when I walked through the front door, I saw a stranger standing in the darkest corner of the foyer. His messy bangs covered his eyes, his head hung low. He wore a faded, thrifted hoodie and looked too thin, like a gust of wind could knock him over. His hands were rough, calloused from hard labor. But when he looked up, I froze. Tyler was considered the gold standard of looks, but this guy? He was on another level. He looked exactly like Mom—deep-set eyes, sharp features. He had that rare “tragic beauty” vibe, a mix of destitution and inherent nobility that clashed perfectly. His name was Sebastian. He was Mom’s biological son, switched at birth. In other words, Tyler had stolen his life and enjoyed seventeen years of wealth that belonged to him. But even with Sebastian standing right there, Mom instinctively patted Tyler’s hand, soothing him. “Don’t worry, Ty. You will always be the most important child in this house.” Mom’s attitude was my compass. I knew the drill: keep sucking up to Tyler. Sebastian, who had suffered in poverty for nearly two decades, radiated alienation. But his eyes… they were like a wolf’s. Wild. He said nothing, just staring at Mom until she squirmed. Finally, Mom walked over and gave him a stiff hug. “I’m sorry, my child. You’ve suffered so much.” Tyler chose that moment to let out a mocking laugh. “Mom, you guys are the real family. Now that you’re reunited, should I pack my bags?” Mom panicked instantly. She pushed Sebastian away and rushed to grab Tyler’s hand. “What are you saying? You are my baby. My precious son.” From an angle Mom couldn’t see, Tyler smirked at Sebastian. A look of pure victory. Sebastian’s expression didn’t change. It was as if Mom’s love—or lack thereof—didn’t matter to him. But I saw it. A flicker of loneliness in his eyes. Mom turned to him. “Sebastian, don’t mind him. Tyler is a victim in this, too.” Suddenly, floating translucent text appeared in the air before my eyes, like a livestream chat. [Are you kidding me? Tyler benefited the most! How is he a victim?] [Exactly. Tyler lived like a prince for 17 years while Sebastian got beaten by an abusive foster dad.] [I wish I could be a ‘victim’ like that.] I blinked, but the text remained. Sebastian stayed silent. Mom pulled me forward. “Chloe, be a good girl. Say hello to your new brother.” Behind me, Tyler pinched my arm—a signal. He wanted me to bully the new kid. Usually, I’d stick my chin up and say something bratty like, “He doesn’t look like my brother.” The floating text scrolled faster: [Here it comes. The classic scene. The villainess sister tells Sebastian to get lost, destroying his last shred of hope for this family.] [Ugh, poor Sebastian. Coming home just to be bullied by these demon siblings.] [Don’t worry. Sebastian becomes the ruthless CEO later. He bankrupts these two idiots. They end up fighting stray dogs for food under a bridge.] 2 Bankrupt? Fighting dogs for food?! Absolutely not. I spent years catering to Tyler’s every whim just to secure a comfortable future. I did not put in all that emotional labor to end up homeless! I needed to save my future. Immediately. My survival instincts kicked into overdrive. I plastered on the sweetest, most sugary smile I could muster and launched myself at Sebastian, wrapping him in a bear hug. “This brother is so handsome! I like him!” I held on tight, my voice dripping with syrup. “I’m Chloe. Welcome home, big brother!” He went rigid. The icy mask on his face finally cracked. I could feel his confusion, his hesitation as his hand hovered awkwardly over my back. I snickered internally and grabbed his hand, dragging him toward the dining room. “Brother, you’re too skinny! This won’t do. Dinner is ready, you need to eat a lot and get strong!” The floating comments went wild: [??? What is happening? Did the villainess get possessed?] [She’s definitely plotting something. She’s Tyler’s number one lackey. In the book, she tortures the MC.] At the dinner table, Mom’s favoritism was blatant. She piled all the expensive dishes in front of Tyler and me. In front of Sebastian? A plate of stir-fried spinach. Even Mom felt a little awkward. She picked up a piece of glazed salmon. “Sebastian, try this. It’s delicious.” Sebastian glanced at it. “I don’t eat fish. I’m allergic to seafood.” Mom froze, embarrassed. She silently moved the salmon to Tyler’s bowl. “Ty, you’ve been studying hard. You eat it.” Tyler grinned. “Thanks, Mom. I love salmon. Can we have it tomorrow too?” Then, he pivoted, smiling maliciously at me. “By the way, Mom, Chloe was just telling me how much she wanted a massive seafood feast tomorrow. Right, Chloe?” The comments exploded: [This guy is such a snake. He knows Sebastian is allergic and he’s doing this on purpose.] [I can’t wait until they’re broke on the streets.] [Especially the sister. Pretty, homeless, and alone… her ending in the book is brutal. She gets targeted by…] I stopped reading. The food in my mouth turned to ash. My survival instinct roared. I put down my chopsticks, wiped my mouth, and grabbed Mom’s arm, shaking it like a toddler. “But Mom! I don’t want seafood anymore! I really want sweet and sour pork ribs, spicy tofu, and truffle chicken soup!” I batted my eyelashes. “Mommy, please? Can we have those instead?” Mom ate it up. She tapped my nose affectionately. “Okay, okay. Whatever our little glutton wants.” Tyler’s face went dark. He hadn’t expected me to go off-script and save Sebastian. I pretended not to notice and shoveled rice into my mouth. Honestly? I felt guilty. My muscle memory wanted to agree with Tyler. I was wired to please him. But I was more afraid of sleeping under a bridge. After dinner, Mom showed Sebastian to his room. It was right next to mine. I thought I could finally sleep, but the damn text floated up again: [Unbelievable. Tyler poured water on Sebastian’s bed. What a jerk.] [It’s freezing at night right now. He’s trying to make him sick.] [It’s fine. Just imagine them shivering in a cardboard box later. Karma is coming.] 3 The comments felt vindicated. I felt like I was going to have a heart attack. I jumped out of bed without putting on slippers, grabbed a brand-new duvet from the linen closet, and sprinted to Sebastian’s room. I knocked lightly. Sebastian opened the door. Moonlight spilled across his face, highlighting his sharp jawline. He was shockingly handsome. I paused for a second, dazzled. Then I shoved the duvet at him. “Brother! I heard your bedding got… uh, wet. This is brand new. Use this.” He stared at me. His dark eyes searched my face for a long time before he spoke, his voice raspy. “Why are you being so nice to me?” Because I don’t want to be homeless, bro! But I smiled like an angel. “Because you’re my brother. We’re family.” He flinched like the word “family” physically burned him. “Family?” I nodded vigorously. “Yup! I’m very useful. I’ll take care of you and protect you!” Suddenly, he smiled. It looked like snow melting in spring. “I’m the older brother. I should be the one taking care of you. Protecting you.” My heart did a weird little flip. With Tyler, I was always the one cleaning up messes and taking the blame. I rubbed my nose. “So, what do you like to eat? I’ll tell the chef for tomorrow.” His lips curved up. “No need. The dishes you asked for today… those are my favorites.” I grinned. “I knew it! Who doesn’t love sweet and sour ribs?” Sebastian chuckled. It was the first time I’d heard him laugh. I stared again. When he smiled… he was lethal. 4 The next morning, Tyler didn’t wait for me to walk to school. I knew he was mad. I felt a little wronged. I’d been his servant for years, and one moment of disobedience was enough to cut me off? My phone buzzed. It was Jessica, the school’s queen bee. [Chloe, get me the spicy noodles from the cafeteria for breakfast. But like, from the good stall on the other side of campus. Thanks!] Ever since Tyler started making me run errands for her, she had gotten comfortable treating me like her personal DoorDash. I wanted to text back: Get it yourself. I deleted it. [Okay.] I didn’t like Jessica. On the first day of high school, during introductions, I spoke one sentence. She burst out laughing. “Oh my god, is that your real voice? It’s so high-pitched and fake. We’re in high school, you don’t need to act like an anime character.” The whole class laughed. My face burned. I’m naturally soft-spoken; I wasn’t faking anything. Tyler had kicked her chair. “Knock it off.” Jessica rolled her eyes. “Protective much? It’s just a joke. She’s too sensitive.” Tyler had patted my head. “Don’t worry about it, Chloe.” I felt safe then. But… But, Tyler, why did you fall in love with her? 5 Despite his threats to send me back to the orphanage, Tyler used to be good to me. I have hypoglycemia—low blood sugar. I get dizzy if I don’t eat. Tyler used to keep tangerine candies in his pocket. Whenever I forgot mine, he’d peel one and pop it in my mouth. “Idiot,” he’d say, smiling. “So much trouble.” Recently, I hadn’t forgotten my candy. I just pretended to, because I liked being cared for. But then Jessica started chirping in his ear. “Tyler, are you obsessed with your sister? It’s weird. You’re going to turn her into a brat.” Tyler called her annoying, but his ears turned red. He stopped bringing me candy. Now, his pockets were full of hair ties because Jessica always lost hers. His patience transferred to her. He tutored her, bought her gifts for every holiday, and made me deliver his love letters. He made me bring her breakfast. He seemed to forget that I hated her. To keep Tyler happy, I had to suck up to Jessica. I had to pretend I didn’t mind. But the tangerine candy sweetness was gone. Now, all I tasted was bitter.

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During my loneliest year, I adopted three unwanted shapeshifters—or “Beastmen,” as they called themselves. The Black Python was cold and aloof. Even when his body was burning up with fever, he refused to initiate any closeness. The Snow Fox was clingy and obedient. He needed to be coaxed to eat, kissed before bed, and begged for cuddles every single day. The Grey Wolf was dominant and possessive. Every night before sleep, he checked to make sure his mark was still visible on my leg. If I refused, he’d posture as if ready to attack. To feed them, I went back to my old trade: hunting demons. Early mornings, late nights. My energy was draining day by day. Until one day, I walked in on three beautiful men plotting in my room. “I smelled a mermaid on her yesterday.” “Mermaids are lustful creatures. No wonder she’s been so listless lately and cold to us.” “Let’s not wait then. Let’s just eat her.” My face went completely pale. 1 I am a demon hunter in training. Because my skills were still raw, my family stationed me at a remote estate in the suburbs to cultivate my powers. By day three, I was bored out of my mind. I posted online asking how to kill time. The netizens were helpful, in their own way. “Like dogs? I have a beagle. Free delivery, but absolutely no returns.” “Get a parrot. When they go crazy, it’s like living with a drama queen.” “Are you guys trying to kill the OP? Listen to me, raise cockroaches. Easy maintenance. When you’re happy, let them nibble. When you’re mad, chase them around.” While scrolling through the dizzying options, I got a DM from someone claiming to be a zoo director. “My zoo went bust. I urgently need kind souls to adopt these animals. Interested?” It sounded perfect. I’d help the director and solve my boredom. I asked what animals were left. “Elephants, whales, tigers, black bears…” I fell silent. Was he serious? I asked if there were any smaller ones. The director replied eagerly, “Yes, yes! A Black Python, a Snow Fox, and a Grey Wolf. They’re the leftovers nobody wanted.” I said I couldn’t handle that many. After some thought, I chose the Snow Fox. The delivery arrived that night. I opened the crate and froze. Three pairs of eyes stared back at me. The Snow Fox nuzzled up affectionately, the red markings at the corners of its eyes giving it a bewitching look. The Black Python, nearly two meters long with golden pupils, was coiled around the cage bars, flicking its tongue coldly. Its scales were jet black and glossy. The Grey Wolf, the largest of the three, sized me up with a lazy, arrogant gaze, as if I were already his prey. I snapped a picture and sent it to the director, asking if there was a mistake. “Oh, right! Forgot to mention. We’re doing a ‘Buy One, Get Two Free’ promotion.” What? 2 Returning them was impossible. The director claimed his grandma was giving birth—yes, you read that right—and deleted his account. I felt scammed, but I had no proof. Bang! Bang! The cage rattled violently. The Wolf’s patience had run out. Staying in a cramped cage was an insult to him. The Python had already slithered out, thanks to its flexible body. It was coiled around the banister, ignoring the Wolf’s noise, eyes closed in a fake nap. In contrast, the Fox was much more normal, paws resting on the cage bars, looking at me with puppy-dog eyes. I opened the cage. The Wolf lunged out and pinned me to the carpet. I couldn’t fight back at all. Thankfully, he didn’t smell like blood or rotting meat. The Wolf sniffed me intensely. From head to toe. Like he was inspecting his prey. The thought terrified me. The next second, a sharp pain shot through my thigh. He bit me. I was annoyed. Just as I was about to smack him, he started licking the wound tenderly. While I was confused, I felt a dark gaze on me. I looked up. It was the Fox, perched on top of the cage. Seeing me look, he tilted his head and wagged his tail, looking innocent and cute. I didn’t think much of it. After the Wolf finished his tantrum, I texted my brother describing the Wolf’s behavior. My brother’s cultivation wasn’t much better than mine, but he had seen more of the world. He told me not to make a fuss. “That’s just the Wolf marking you. Nothing unusual.” I looked down at the bite mark on my thigh. Did he have to mark me there? I kept that detail to myself. And I believed my brother. 3 After settling the three of them, I went to take a shower. Just as I took off my clothes, something scratched at the door. Accompanied by anxious whimpering. I was alone in the huge estate, so I didn’t bother putting clothes back on. I opened the door. A white, fluffy ball shot into my arms. Trembling. It was storming outside. The Fox buried himself into me, seeking safety. Instead of pushing him away, I gently stroked his tail. I understood. He looked like the youngest of the three. Being in a strange place during a thunderstorm must be scary. Once he calmed down, the little Fox licked my face affectionately. Seeing I didn’t resist, he moved from my lips to my neck, collarbone, and slowed down at my chest. It felt weird. I put him down outside the door. “I’m going to shower now. You stay here and be good,” I said patiently. He whined unhappily, circling my ankles and rolling on the floor to please me. I hesitated. Did he want to watch me shower? A hissing sound came from nearby. The hall lights were off. The first thing I saw were two golden pupils. The snake slithered leisurely from the shadows into the light. He reared up his upper body, exuding a cold, regal aura. If a normal person saw this, they’d faint. For some reason, I felt like he was warning the Fox. The Fox hid behind my legs, covering himself with his tail. So pitiful, so helpless. I picked him up and couldn’t help but scold the Python, “Don’t bully him.” The Python paused. He looked at me silently for a few seconds, then turned and left indifferently. His tail knocked a lamp off the table on his way out. He definitely did that on purpose. Left alone, the Fox happily kissed my lips. I turned on the shower and asked if he wanted a bath too. He hesitated, wriggled out of my arms, jumped into the tub, and spun in a circle. I understood. I filled the tub. I even threw in a few toys for him. “Go play.” As I stood up, the Fox lightly bit my wrist and tugged me toward him. I paused. “Together?” “That’s not appropriate.” The Fox let go, disappointed. He buried his head underwater, blowing bubbles. …How could he be so cute? My heart softened. Fine. I stepped into the tub. The Fox’s eyes lit up with excitement. 4 After drying the Fox, I put him on the bed. He was so tired he couldn’t keep his eyes open. I changed clothes and went to pick up the takeout I ordered earlier. At the gate, I ran into a creep who had been stalking the property. He came prepared. “You got lucky last time, but no one’s coming to save you now, no matter how loud you scream.” Honestly, I wasn’t that scared. As a member of a demon-hunting family, I’d seen scarier things. Last time, I was actually preparing to release a demon to scare him off, but he ran away first. I stood my ground, looking at him with mockery. “Right back at you.” But then, the man stopped moving. His eyes widened in terror, staring at something behind me. The shadow beneath my feet was swallowed by a larger shadow. A hissing sound came from above. I turned around. Froze. The Python had followed me without me noticing. He was bigger now. Lightning flashed, illuminating his scales with a dark, eerie glow. The pressure he released was terrifying. The creep screamed and ran. The Python was faster. He shot past me. Before I could react, I heard the man’s agonized screams. The scene was gruesome. The Python effortlessly wrapped around the sturdy man, squeezing the breath out of him. He was playing with his food. He could have crushed him instantly, but he was dragging it out, tightening his grip inch by inch. Having seen enough, I walked over. “That’s enough. I already called the police.” The Python ignored me. From the turn of his head, I sensed grievance and anger. I figured it was because I scolded him earlier about the Fox. Snakes hold grudges? Who knew. Saving the guy was priority. I gently patted the snake’s head. “Sorry for what I said earlier. I was wrong.” My hand felt empty. The man dropped to the ground, unconscious. All I saw was the tip of the Python’s tail disappearing into the distance. Why was he running so fast? Did he have a flight to catch?

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I had just gotten the keys to my new house when my mom, without telling me, lent it to a relative to “store a few things.” When I found out, there was an urn sitting in the middle of my living room. I confronted my uncle. “How am I supposed to live here?” I demanded. “My neighbors are already filing complaints!” My uncle marched over and banged on the neighbor’s door. “What are you complaining about? The old man can’t even talk! How is he bothering you?” I was losing my mind. “This is my new house!” My uncle retorted with conviction, “We know it’s a new house, that’s why we put him here! We have kids at home, you know.” “Besides, the old man had a blessed life. He’s bringing you good luck!” My mom chimed in from the sidelines. “They didn’t have a choice. You’re not married; the house is sitting empty anyway.” I changed the locks that same day. But the next day, when I opened the door, the urn was still there. They had made a copy of the key. 1 At 3:00 AM, I pressed “send” and finally exhaled. After pulling three consecutive all-nighters, I had secured the five-million-dollar contract. I was exhausted, sure. But thinking about the commission coming my way, and the new house I had meticulously chosen… even the air tasted sweet. I rubbed my stiff neck, clocked out, and carefully packed the contract and the flash drive. The down payment on that house, in a prime location, had drained every cent of my savings. Countless nights working until I wanted to vomit—it was all so I wouldn’t have to live in a cluttered storage room anymore. No more of my brother’s deafening video games. No more of my mom’s constant scolding and complaining. I finally had a walk-in closet of my own. Finally, I had a sense of belonging. A home. My phone screen lit up. “Claire, are you asleep?” Then, a barrage of voice messages dropped like bombs, the longest one a full 60 seconds. “Mom is dying of this heat! Is this weather trying to steam us alive?” “Oh, look at you now, living comfortably.” “Working in the big city, sitting alone in an air-conditioned room, living like a princess! You can’t even check on your parents? Do you even have a heart?” I swallowed the irritation rising in my chest and replied patiently. “Mom, didn’t I install an AC unit for you and Dad?” “So what? Electricity isn’t free! I raised you, put you through school, just so you could enjoy life? Every time I turn on that AC, my heart bleeds! Unlike you, spending money like water! Ungrateful wretch!” “Listen to my voice, my throat is smoking dry!” Another 60-second rant. I tapped “transcribe to text.” Your dad and I are old bones, what do we need AC for? Save that money for your brother; he needs to get married one day. You have no conscience. I shoved the phone into my bag, too tired to argue. In her eyes, the $500 I sent home every month was mandatory tribute. Buying a house for myself was unfilial. turning on my AC was a sin. The night wind was cool, but it couldn’t blow away the suffocation in my chest. My eyelids were heavy. Three all-nighters had pushed me to my limit. But the thought of returning to my own little nest, taking a hot shower, and sleeping in a clean bed made it all worth it. I quickened my pace, keys ready in hand. When I pushed open the door to my new house, I thought I had walked into the wrong apartment. In the center of the living room, electric red candles flickered eerily. Between them sat a black urn. Plates of offerings were arranged in front of it. And from a speaker somewhere, the “Great Compassion Mantra” was looping on repeat. When did my living room become a funeral parlor? Besides me, only my mom had a spare key. My blood ran cold. I felt dizzy, barely able to stand. Mom must have lent the key to someone without telling me! I dialed her number with trembling hands, practically roaring into the phone: “Mom? What the hell is in my house? Who put that there?” Her voice came through, calm and justified. “What’s the fuss? Your Uncle Dave’s father-in-law just passed away. They borrowed your place to keep him for a few days. What’s the big deal? Your house is empty anyway.” “Why are you yelling in the middle of the night? Are you trying to kill me?” My limbs went numb. My heart pounded so hard I had to lean against the wall. “A few days? I just got the keys! How can you let them put an urn in here without asking me? How am I supposed to live here?” “This is my house!” “Tsk, why are you so immature?” Her tone turned sharp. “What’s yours is mine! I gave birth to you!” “Besides, we’re all family. What’s wrong with helping out? You’re a girl, thirty years old, no boyfriend. Who’s this house going to eventually? Your nephew, obviously.” “So what if your uncle stores some things there now? Leaving it empty is a waste. You have no sense of family.” My vision went black with rage. My blood pressure spiked. “Storing a dead man’s urn in a living person’s new home? Mom, I risked my life working for this house! It’s not a morgue!” But the next second, she hung up on me. I tried calling back, shaking, but only got the busy signal. Just then, the neighbor across the hall, Mrs. Johnson, peeked out. “Hey, young lady, what are you screaming about in the hallway at this hour? It’s noisy!” She complained, then peered through my open door. Her face went pale. “Holy mother of… Why does your house look like a haunted house? It’s the middle of the night! Are you trying to scare people to death? What is this?” 2 I turned on the lights. The living room was a disaster. My wool rug, which cost three grand, was covered in black footprints. It looked like someone had walked through a latrine—mud mixed with something yellowish and vile. The floor around the coffee table was littered with sunflower seed shells, peanut shells, shredded tissues, and cigarette butts. The trash can was overflowing, garbage scattered everywhere, the stench overwhelming. Even the plants I bought to purify the air were destroyed—leaves torn off, soil spilled all over the floor. Did they think my house was a dump? I was losing my mind. I should never have given my mom a key. I only told her about the house to make her proud. Instead, she demanded a key and lent it out to random people! My hands shook as I tried calling my mom, Susan, again. But no matter how many times I dialed, the robotic voice repeated: “The subscriber you have dialed is not available…” She had blocked me. Furious, I scrolled to find my Uncle Dave’s number. Once, twice, ten times. My fingers turned white pressing the screen. I stood amidst the trash, waiting for him to pick up. An hour later, a lazy voice answered. “Hello?” It was the middle of the night; I didn’t want to make a scene. I tried to suppress my anger. “Uncle Dave, what is going on with my house?” He coughed, phlegm rattling in his throat. “Oh, that house. I just borrowed it for a bit.” “Borrowed?” My voice rose uncontrollably. “I didn’t agree to anything! Who did you borrow it from?” Dave sounded impatient. “You’re calling me in the middle of the night for this?” “Claire, as your uncle, I have to say something. You’re a thirty-year-old woman, unmarried, no kids. The house is just sitting there. The old man had a blessed life; he’s adding good luck to your place. It’s a great thing.” “Adding luck? Would you want this luck?!” “Psycho,” he muttered and hung up. When I tried calling back, I got the same busy signal. Dave had blocked me too! Standing in the garbage-filled room at 4:00 AM, I felt like my heart was going to explode from the grievance and pain. But I still had a life. I had a job. I couldn’t just give up. I took a breath. I shoved everything on the table into a box and put it outside the door. I turned off the spooky music. I hid in the study. It was the only clean room left. Fighting through eye strain and exhaustion, the weight of the mortgage pressing down on me like a mountain, I worked. After three days of non-stop grinding, my temples were throbbing. As dawn broke, I sent a leave request to my boss. Mr. Shen replied with a simple “Received.” I finally relaxed. I slumped onto the desk, my consciousness fading. Just as I was drifting off… BANG! BANG! BANG! A violent pounding on the door nearly gave me a heart attack. “Who is it?” My heart hammered against my ribs. I felt like I was going to die of cardiac arrest. The pounding paused for a second. Then, Dave’s rude bellowing assaulted my eardrums. “Claire Lin! Open the door! What’s taking so long? Open up!” Dragging my exhausted body, I opened the door. The family of three stood there. 3 “So slow. You’re in the way.” Dave shoved past me roughly, nearly knocking me over. His wife, Aunt Barb, followed close behind. Their brat of a son, Little Treasure, ignored his muddy sneakers and jumped straight onto my $5,000 leather sofa. “Grandpa’s house has a trampoline!” There was a pebble stuck in the tread of his shoe. As he bounced, rip. A six-inch gash appeared on the leather. I saw stars. My heart bled for the five grand. Before I could stop him, Dave went on the offensive. “Claire, look what you did! Where are the offerings I set up? And the memorial tablet? You dared to throw the old man’s tablet in the trash?” His stubby finger practically poked my eye out. “Bad luck! So much bad luck! The old man’s bones aren’t even cold, and you disrespect him like this? Don’t you respect the dead? You ungrateful wolf, did a dog eat your conscience?” Barb twisted her waist, chiming in sarcastically. “Exactly, Claire. Not to lecture you, but the old man staying here doesn’t hurt you. You have to have reverence for the dead.” Even my temper had limits. “Why don’t you keep him at your own house? This is my home, not a funeral parlor or a cemetery!” Dave straightened his neck, self-righteous. “Our Little Treasure is only eight. If he sees an urn, he’ll have nightmares. Can you take responsibility if he gets scared?” I pointed at the pile of junk on the floor. “What about my nightmares? I’m human too!” “You?” Barb rolled her eyes, her tone dripping with mockery. “You’re thirty without a boyfriend. Your horoscope must be too ‘hard.’ The old man being here might suppress the bad luck. Maybe you’ll finally get lucky in love.” My lips trembled. The lack of sleep had left me weak; I didn’t even have the strength to stand. Seeing my silence, Dave thought he had won. He pulled some old newspapers from his pocket and spread them on the floor. I watched him warily. “What are you doing?” I had a bad feeling. He lit the newspaper. “Your uncle is cleaning up your mess. You offended the old man; you have to apologize.” “You went to college, don’t you understand basic manners?” The smell of burning ink and paper filled the room. The air, already stale, became suffocating. The smoke triggered the alarm. BEEP—BEEP—BEEP— The smoke detector screamed, red light flashing. Within three minutes, the property manager and two security guards were pounding on the door. “Miss Lin, what’s going on?” “Are you trying to summon the fire department?” The manager scanned the room, his impatient gaze landing on me. “Even if you need to do… things… watch the time. Is this a place to burn paper money?” I was at my breaking point. I hadn’t done anything, yet I was getting scolded. Before I could answer, Barb sat on the floor and started wailing. “Manager! You have to help us! My poor father died of cancer, and we children just wanted to show some filial piety, burn some paper money… but this niece has a heart of stone! She doesn’t even respect the dead!” “The old man loved her so much when he was alive! Can’t we talk about feelings instead of rules?” She cried snot and tears, acting like the victim, painting me as the villain. I snapped. “Manager, I didn’t light the fire.” “This is a serious fire hazard. Shouldn’t these people be arrested?” Dave’s voice shot up. “Arrested? Claire Lin, do you have any respect for your uncle?” “Your mother was right, you really are unfilial!” The manager realized Dave’s family was trouble. “Miss Lin, your situation is… complicated.” “But regulations strictly forbid open fires in high-rise buildings.” “If you really need to pay respects, go to the empty lot in the suburbs.” “Why should we go downstairs?” Barb sat heavily on my sofa, tearing the gash even wider. She grabbed the manager’s sleeve, her voice turning pathetic. “Manager, you have parents too. Have a heart. The old man just left us, we’re grieving… we just wanted to do something for him…” Little Treasure joined in, hugging the manager’s leg. “Uncle, my grandpa died, waaah…” The fake crying was obvious. The next second, he wiped his snot on the manager’s pants. Cornered by the family of three, the manager’s face darkened. He started backing away, signaling me with his eyes. Seeing this, Dave slowly stomped out the embers on the floor. He deliberately ground his heel into my floorboards, leaving black marks. “See? No fire. What’s the panic?” “Exactly. Calling property management for nothing. Acting like we’re arsonists.” Barb rolled her eyes. “Claire, you’re an adult. Can you handle things more maturely?” The manager seized the out. “Right, right, fire’s out. No problem, no problem.” He turned to me, whispering. “Miss Lin, they’re family. Bear with it. The old man just died, emotions are high. Just… make sure they don’t light any more fires and don’t disturb the neighbors.” 4 The smell of smoke, sandalwood, and burnt paper hung in the air. Even hiding in the study with the soundproof door closed, I could hear Little Treasure’s shrieks and Barb’s grating laughter. I was too tired. Days of overtime meant I had zero energy to fight this family. I grabbed my phone and booked a nearby hotel. If I stayed, I would go insane. At 3:00 AM, the hotel bed was unfamiliar, but quiet. I slept my first peaceful night since getting the house. The next day, I took leave and waited until noon. Knowing Dave, they would be out dropping Little Treasure at school. I called a locksmith and a cleaning crew. We cleaned and sanitized the entire house. “Miss, should we throw all this away?” The cleaner pointed to the pile: urn, incense burner, offerings. “Throw it all! Everything!” Locks changed. Floors polished. The scratch on the sofa remained, but the ash and trash were gone. Looking at my renewed home, I exhaled. Changed the locks. They can’t get in now. All afternoon, my nerves were tight. By evening, my phone was strangely quiet. No abuse from Dave, no sarcasm from Mom. I thought I was safe. I changed the locks and didn’t give Mom a key. The next day, I dragged my tired body home from work. I tried to put my key in the lock. It wouldn’t go in. I looked up, checked the number. It was my house. But the lock had been changed. Ding— The elevator opened. Dave and his family walked out carrying shopping bags. Little Treasure held a new toy. Seeing me at the door, Dave smirked triumphantly, dangling a set of keys. “What are you doing standing there? You’re in the way.” Blood rushed to my head. If I could, I would strangle him right there. “Why did you change my lock? Who gave you the right?” He looked impatient. “I talked to your mom. She agreed.” I dialed my mother, shaking. This time, she answered. Her tone was nonchalant. “Claire, what now?” Hearing her voice, thirty years of grievance, anger, and exhaustion exploded. I couldn’t hold it back. I screamed into the phone. “Mom! For years, I’ve been your ATM! Three thousand a month! Saving for my brother’s wedding, for your retirement! I work myself to death, never taking sick days, just to buy a house!” My voice choked. “Back home, two bedrooms. You and Dad have one, brother has one! Me? I sleep in the storage room! For thirty years, I haven’t had a proper bedroom! Now I finally have my own house, and you let Uncle put an urn in it? This is my home! I bought it with my blood and sweat! It’s not yours!” Tears flooded down my face. I squatted in the hallway, sobbing. Silence on the other end. Mom ignored my breakdown completely. “We’re family. Taking care of each other is what we do. You forgot? When you were little, your uncle bought you candy. You can’t forget your roots.” Candy? That fifty-cent piece of hard candy? Because of one piece of candy, I owe him a million-dollar house? I didn’t want to talk to her anymore. I had only one thought. Call the police! I couldn’t out-argue my elders. But Dave changing my locks and trespassing? That’s illegal! The police arrived quickly. In front of the officers, I pointed at Dave. “Officer, they are trespassing, squatting, and changed my locks! Here is my property deed!” “And the neighbors have complained multiple times about the noise!” Dave immediately put on his “honest peasant” face, rubbing his hands together. “Officer, look at this mess, it’s a misunderstanding.” “Claire and I… I’m her uncle. This is a family matter.” “My father-in-law just passed. We just wanted a place to keep him for a couple of days while the tomb is being built. You know how it is with customs, moving graves is a big deal. Just a few days.” “We’re family. Can’t we talk this out?” Barb played the victim too. “Yes, Officer, it’s not easy for us. The old man is gone; he needs a resting place, right?” “Once the tomb is ready, we’ll move him immediately.” The officer looked at me, then at Dave, and shook his head helplessly. “Miss, this is a domestic dispute. We suggest you resolve it within the family.” “But they changed my locks—” “This… since you are relatives, it’s hard to define. Maybe try mediation?” After thirty minutes of mediation, the police left.

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I am a Z-list celebrity. A total nobody in Hollywood. On my 22nd birthday, I hopped on a livestream to celebrate with my tiny fanbase and decided to jump on a TikTok trend: “First toast to myself: When I was six, I annoyed my brother during a family trip, and he beat me up. When we got home, my parents didn’t scold him; instead, they yelled at me for hours.” The comments section instantly flooded with [Generational Trauma] and [Justice for Luna]. Just then, my brother walked by, deadpan, and stared into the camera. “Are you talking about the fishing trip? You insisted on catching fish in the deep end and drowned. You were blue when I pulled you out. I was giving you CPR and chest compressions to save your life, and when you woke up, you asked if I was using your chest as a punching bag.” The comments exploded: [LMAO, has Bro not escaped his toxic family yet?] 1 As a Hollywood newbie and a transparent Z-lister, I’ve spent two years playing background extras—corpses, maids, pedestrians. I have a few fans, and I cherish them. My 22nd birthday coincided with wrapping a small supporting role. My character died early, so I was unemployed again. I went home to celebrate. I lit the candles, played a fan-made tribute video, and felt genuinely touched. Being loved by strangers is a precious thing. Then came the “Real Talk” segment. I poured coconut water into a wine glass, swirling it pretentiously like a Napa Valley sommelier. “First toast to myself,” I began, channeling my inner storyteller. “Six years old. I annoyed my brother. He beat me up. Parents yelled at me. Trauma.” The chat rolled by: [What kind of parenting is that?] [Omg Luna, come to my house, I’ll treat you right.] [Wait, who is the hottie in the background?] Liam, my brother, had just walked in. He paused, realized he was on camera, and delivered his rebuttal about saving my life, not beating me up. “I almost became an only child that day,” he deadpanned. I paused. My memory was fuzzy. I only remembered the chest pain and the yelling. “Is that what happened?” I asked, my confidence wavering. “Mom, Dad, and I didn’t bring it up because we didn’t want you to have PTSD. And you’ve held a grudge for sixteen years?” “…” I pushed Liam out of the frame, refilled my coconut water, and pivoted. “Second toast to myself. Middle school. To improve my grades, I set an alarm for 5 AM every day, even in winter. Hard work pays off.” A ghostly voice drifted from off-camera: “You mean when you were twelve, set an alarm for 5 AM, got scared of the dark, and ran into my room to wake me up to study with you?” “You were a senior! Waking up early is good for you!” I argued, though my voice was getting smaller. “I fell asleep in AP Calc because of you,” Liam retorted. “That’s why I started locking my door.” I cleared my throat. “Third toast to myself. High school graduation. I fell for my gaming duo partner. I finally gathered the courage to confess my love, and he blocked me instantly.” A cold scoff echoed from the hallway. “Luna, did you forget you were using my account? That was my gaming buddy. You borrowed my account for the summer, confessed to him, and he thought I was hitting on him. He panicked and blocked me. You ruined my reputation in the gaming community.” “…” The chat was unreadable. It was just a wall of [HAHAHAHAHA]. Finally, one comment stuck: [Bro is fighting for his life in this family.] 2 The “toast” was a disaster. After ending the stream, I started punching Liam’s arm. “Liam! I was live! Could you not save me a little face?” “I did,” he smirked. “If I didn’t hold back, you’d be cancelled by now.” Drama queen. He gets that from our mother. “It’s my birthday. Can’t you let me win once?” He tossed a small velvet box at me. It landed perfectly in my lap. “Here. I let you win.” I opened it. It was the diamond bracelet I’d been eyeing for months. “Brother!” I shrieked, making a heart with my hands. “You are the best, most generous brother in the world! Being your sister is my greatest honor! When I win an Oscar, you’ll be first in my speech!” Liam checked my forehead for a fever. “Go to sleep, Luna. Stop dreaming.” The next morning, I was woken up by my agent, Lisa, screaming. “Luna! You’re trending!” I shot up. Did I get cancelled? Did they find my burner account? I clicked the link. A clip of my livestream had gone viral. Not just me—Liam too. [LMAO having a sister like this is like owning a husky. Pure chaos.] [Who is the brother? He’s hot.] [New industry plants? I’m listening.] [I want the brother as my husband and the sister as my wife.] “Luna, are you listening?” Lisa barked. “Huh? Yeah.” “A new variety show wants you. And your brother. It’s Family Ties, produced by director Sam Cohen. Big budget. Big stars. This is your shot.” “Does Liam have to go?” “Yes. Ask him. Heck, ask him if he wants to sign with me.” Liam owns a photography studio. He’s a boss. He wasn’t interested. That night, he came home with late-night kebabs. “Want some?” “I have to watch my figure.” “Please, like you don’t eat junk when I’m not looking.” I grabbed a skewer. “Liam, we’re famous.” “I know,” he said, looking bored. “Clients today asked for selfies.” “Can you help your little sister out?” I massaged his calf. “There’s a variety show…” “What’s the catch?” “They want you too.” He scoffed. “I knew it. You want to ride my coattails.” But after a night of flattery and begging, he agreed. 3 The show was called My Kin & I. It was a live-streamed reality show, meaning no editing to hide our true personalities. On filming day, Liam wore a white shirt with a red rose embroidered on it. He looked more like a celebrity than I did. “Bro, it’s a family show, not The Bachelor.” He ignored me. We arrived at a villa in the countryside. The cast list was intimidating. First, the power couple: A-list actor Hayden Cole and his wife, singer Chloe Xu. They were the industry’s golden couple. Next, veteran actor Zack Zimmer and his adorable 4-year-old daughter, Mia. Then, us. “Hi, I’m rookie actress Luna Lane.” “I’m Liam Lane, photographer.” Finally, the heavy hitter. Vivian Jiang. The legendary actress who retired years ago. She was practically royalty. She walked in looking elegant as ever, followed by a tall, handsome young man with glasses. “Hello everyone,” Vivian smiled. “This is my son, Julian Jiang.” 4 The internet probably broke right then. Vivian Jiang had a grown son? Julian was dressed in all black, wearing semi-rimless glasses. He had his mother’s soulful eyes but a sharper, colder jawline. He looked smart, stoic, and expensive. “I’m Julian,” he said simply. “I work in game development.” We all sat around a large table. The director announced, “Welcome to My Kin & I. Treat this like your own home. Relax.” Hayden Cole laughed. “If it’s my own home, can I take my shirt off?” The chat went wild: [DO IT.] Chloe Xu elbowed her husband. We settled in. The director announced lunch. “Since this is your home, you have to cook. We provide ingredients, but you have to win games to pick them.” First game: The “How well do you know your partner?” challenge. Hayden and Chloe went first. Question: “Who fell in love first?” They both wrote their own names. Fail. Zack and Mia were up. “Who does Daddy love most?” Zack wrote: Wife and Mia. Mia wrote: Mommy. They argued with the director until he gave them the point for cuteness. Then, us. Director: “Who do you love more, Mom or Dad?” Me: “?” Liam: “?” Are you trying to start a war? I looked at the camera. “Mom, Dad, I love you both equally.” Director: “No cop-outs.” We scribbled. We flipped our boards. Both said: Mom. Director: “Why?” Me: “Do I need a reason to love Mom? I just do.” Liam: “What she said. Son’s prerogative.” We won a bag of rice. Next question: “What was Luna’s first role?” Liam smirked. He wrote: Eunuch. “Correct,” he laughed. “High school summer job. You played a eunuch in a period drama. Mom and Dad watched that 3-second clip on loop for weeks.” Great. My career highlights.

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My stepmother’s son ran away from home. No one could find him. So, I catfished him. When we finally met in person, he thought I was there to blackmail his online girlfriend. I calmly pulled out my phone and dialed his number using my burner account. “Babe, you’ve been a bad boy…” The voice on the other end was the sultry, seductive tone he’d fallen in love with online. His world shattered. I continued, “So, babe… how should I punish you?” He clutched his head, looking like he was in physical pain. “Please! Stop talking!” I smirked. “Playing you was easier than training a dog.” 1 My stepmother’s son had been missing for two weeks. No one in the family could reach him. My stepmother, desperate, finally came to beg me for help. Considering she had only been passively aggressive toward me for the past decade and never actually hit me, I decided to throw her a bone. “I might have a way…” “I’ll give you anything!” she interrupted. “New clothes? I’ll buy them! Any food you want? I’ll cook it! Oh, here—take my black card. No limit. Buy whatever you want!” My stepmother, Sharon, was truly frantic. She handed over her precious black card without hesitation. At dinner, my dad chimed in. “Honey, you know Tyler is Sharon’s only son…” I’m your only daughter, Dad. He was so anxious, you’d think Tyler was his biological son, not just a stepson. If I hadn’t seen the DNA test myself, I would have doubted it. Seeing my silence, Dad panicked. “You’ve always wanted a car, right? I’ll buy it for you! Any car!” Wow. They were really going all out. Dad was willing to bleed cash for his stepson. Is this the power of “first love”? My dad and Sharon were high school sweethearts. My grandparents broke them up because Sharon was poor. Dad married my mom, had me, and lived a normal life. But when my mom died of illness, Dad found out Sharon was a widowed single mom. Less than a year after my mom’s funeral, he married Sharon and moved her and Tyler into our house. He treated Tyler like gold for over ten years. Truly “devoted.” I, on the other hand, was treated like the unwanted stepchild in my own home. But now that they knew I had a way to find their precious boy, I was suddenly royalty. After three days of being waited on hand and foot by Sharon, she couldn’t hold back anymore. “So, how exactly are you going to find Tyler?” Evil methods for evil people. I looked mysterious. “Don’t worry. I have connections on the dark web.” “I guarantee he’ll come back in one piece.” Sharon looked at me with awe and fear. Tyler had just finished high school. He ran away because Sharon secretly changed his college applications. He wanted to study Computer Science far away from home. Sharon wanted him to study Business Management at a local university so he could eventually take over my dad’s company. She changed his major and university behind his back. Anyone would lose their mind over that. Tyler, already rebellious, snapped and vanished. I didn’t actually have “dark web connections.” The connection was me. Since Tyler loved gaming, I decided to start there. I logged into a game I knew he played. Sure enough, he was online. Obviously, I couldn’t use my main account. He hated my guts. He thought I was an obstacle to his inheritance. He wouldn’t listen to a word I said. So, I created a smurf account. ID: [BadBitchEnergy]. I sent him a friend request. Tyler: [?] BadBitchEnergy: [Saw you in the lobby. Wanna play?] Tyler didn’t think twice. He walked right into my trap. Once we were in a team, I turned on my mic. I lowered my voice, adding a sultry, lazy rasp. “Can you hear me?” Tyler: “Yeah.” At first, he was cold. But after a few days of carrying him in games, his attitude shifted. He started calling me “Sis” (not in a sibling way, more like a ‘mommy’ way). His voice was magnetic and gentle, completely different from the barking I was used to at home. It took me a few days online to achieve what I couldn’t do in ten years at home. Men. I switched to WeChat using my burner account and added him. One late night, I started the deep talks. [How old are you? Your skills are insane. Are you a pro?] Men love flattery. Tyler: [Just turned 18.] I feigned shock. [So young! And you play like that? Amazing~] Tyler: [You’re too kind, Sis. I’m not even amateur level. If my mom hadn’t messed with my college apps, maybe I could have gone pro…] I switched to “Intellectual Big Sister” mode. [Don’t listen to them. It’s your life. You’re the boss.] Tyler: [You support me?] Me: [Of course. I feel like I know you. You have your own mind. You want to be understood, but you’re lonely. You crave excitement, danger, maybe even a little pain. You want a love that consumes you.] I copied and pasted a bunch of pseudo-philosophical nonsense I found online. Tyler: [Am I really like that?] [I didn’t think I was that complex…] Five minutes later. Tyler: [Okay, I admit it. I didn’t expect anyone to truly understand me.] [And you appeared when I was at my weakest.] After that night, he changed his gaming ID to [GoodBoy]. I smirked at my screen. My research on “How to Manipulate Men” was paying off. 2 I catfished him for another two weeks. I figured he was ripe for the picking. I asked to meet up. Tyler: [Babe, what kind of boys do you like?] My patience was thinning. [I like you, silly.] Tyler: [I’m nervous. What if you don’t like me in person?] Me: [Impossible.] Tyler: [Do you like the number 8?] Me: [8 inches?] Tyler: [NO! I mean 8-pack abs! And I’m 6’2″. Does that make you feel safe?] Me: [Sure, sure.] Stop talking. Any more and you’ll jump off a building tomorrow. Is this what they mean when they say arrogant men become insecure in front of their crushes? The next day. The meet-up. Me: [I’m wearing a purple top, grey skirt, and black stockings.] Tyler: [I’m in a white T-shirt and black pants. Do you see me?] I looked up. I saw him. Hard to miss a giant like him. I had rented out the entire café. It was just us. As soon as Tyler walked in, I signaled the waiter to lock the door. Tyler saw me and immediately turned to run. I stood up, heels clicking on the floor. “Running away?” Tyler frantically tried the door. Locked. Me: “It’s useless. Give up.” He spun around, eyes full of rage. “You? Did you kidnap my girlfriend? Are you blackmailing her?” Still a hopeless romantic. Me: “Look at me again.” Purple top. Grey skirt. Black stockings. His eyes widened. The realization hit him like a truck. The body matched the description… but the face was his worst nightmare. “No… Impossible!” I calmly took out my phone and video called him on my burner account. “Babe, you’ve been a bad boy~” The voice. That sultry, mature voice he loved. His world collapsed. I continued, “So, babe… how should I punish you?” He grabbed his head, agonizing. “Stop! Please, just stop!” Me: “Playing you was easier than training a dog.” Five minutes later, Tyler posted on his WeChat Moment: [Online dating is risky. But the risk was calculated, and man, am I bad at math.] The comments section exploded. Friend A: What happened bro? Catfished? Friend B: Did they not feed you dinner? Friend C: Was it a dude? Tyler: Worse. His phone wouldn’t stop buzzing. I sat there, relaxed. “What do you want to drink? My treat.” Tyler shuddered at my voice. “If you have phlegm, cough it up. Don’t do that voice.” I covered my mouth, acting hurt. “Brother, how can you speak to your Sis like that~” Tyler looked like he wanted to cry. If he hadn’t surrendered so quickly, I would have played with him more. Tyler: “Claire, does anyone else know about this?” Me: “Excuse me? What did you call me?” Tyler gritted his teeth. “Sister.” The “Sister” lacked the romantic tenderness from our chats. Shame. Me: “Don’t worry. Your mom doesn’t know.” “But if you want, I can tell the whole world.” Tyler: “Don’t! Please! Keep it a secret!” “Sister!” Me: “What’s in it for me?” Tyler: “I’ll be your slave! I’ll do anything!” I tapped my fingers on the table. Tyler: “And half my allowance!” He transferred $1,500 to me immediately. Success. I tried not to laugh. “Deal.” “You better keep your word. Or I might accidentally slip up.” I stood up. He immediately jumped up and followed me, looking like a subservient eunuch. “Let’s go home.” 3 I told my dad earlier that I’d bring Tyler back. Sharon was waiting at the gate. When she saw Tyler, she rushed over. “Tyler! Where have you been? I was so worried!” Dad relaxed visibly. “Good job, Claire.” I didn’t care about his praise. I held out my hand. “Car keys.” Dad looked at Sharon, then at Tyler. Tyler didn’t object. Dad handed over the keys. Sharon muttered, “That car was supposed to be your graduation gift, Tyler…” Too bad. I’m taking back everything that belongs to me. Tyler went to shower. He hadn’t suffered much on the streets; Dad’s allowance was generous. But Sharon insisted on cooking a feast for her “starving” son. I chimed in. “Make me sweet and sour ribs. And braised beef with potatoes.” Sharon ignored me. Dad said, “Claire, your brother just got back. Don’t be demanding.” Demanding? Did they forget begging me three days ago? Tyler walked downstairs, fresh from his shower. I cleared my throat. “Do you know what I had to do to bring him back…” Tyler jumped the last three steps. “Mom! Cook it!” Sharon: “?” Dad: “?” Tyler: “Make the ribs and the beef!” Sharon: “But you’re allergic to beef…” Tyler: “Sister wants it! Make it!” Sharon looked at her son in shock. He used to hate me. Now he was calling me “Sister” and demanding food for me? Dad looked pleased. A happy family at last. I walked away satisfied. I lay on the sofa. “Man, I want watermelon.” Tyler appeared. “I’ll cut it.” Me: “Small cubes, please~” Tyler, through gritted teeth: “Got it.” For twenty years, I was oppressed. Now? The stepmom is cooking for me, and the stepbrother is serving me fruit. As for Dad? “Hey, old man. Order me a bubble tea.” Dad: “…Okay.” This is the life. I ruled the house that summer. Sharon cooked, Tyler cleaned. Sharon tried to ask Tyler, “Did she blackmail you? Did she hire thugs? Tell Mommy, I’ll handle her!” Tyler snapped, “If you hadn’t changed my major, would I be in this mess? Stay out of it. This is between me and her.” Sharon shut up. Tyler got used to serving me. He even peeled my grapes. Except when he called me “Sister,” he sometimes choked on the word. One night, I caught him staring at his phone, looking sad. I peeked. He was reading our old chat logs. Is he… missing our “love”? “Tyler, what are you doing?” He jumped, hiding the phone behind his back. His eyes were red. “Why are you in my room?” Me: “This is my house. You are my servant.” He blushed. His ears turned pink. Me: “Go pack my luggage.” School was starting soon. I needed to exploit him while I could. Tyler packed my clothes perfectly. He was well-trained. “Hey,” he said quietly. “Can you… delete that account?” Me: “Why? It’s a good reminder not to online date. Next time it might be your aunt.” Tyler didn’t speak. Five minutes later, he posted: [Used to miss you like crazy. Now trying to forget like crazy.] Cringe. The comments were ruthless. Bro is in his emo phase. Who hurt you? Was it the dude from the cafe? Tyler kept the secret well. It was too embarrassing. 4 Because Sharon changed his major, Tyler and I were now attending the same university, in the same major. He was a freshman; I was a junior. I started school two weeks later than him. I drove to his dorm and called him. “Where are you?” Tyler: “Cafeteria.” Me: “Pack me some fish noodles and come help me move my stuff.” Tyler: “…” His roommates were loud in the background. “Girlfriend?” “No.” “You’re running so fast, though!” Ten minutes later, a sweaty Tyler appeared with noodles. “I owe you in a past life or something,” he muttered, handing me the food. Me: “Glad you know.” I ate in the car while he hauled my boxes up to the second floor. My roommates were shocked. “Claire, who is this hunk? Boyfriend?” Tyler turned red. “This is my brother, Tyler. Freshman.” “Oh! The new campus hottie! I remember his picture from the orientation page!” Tyler finished making my bed. I pulled him aside and gave him a bottle of expensive sunscreen. “Take it. You’re getting dark. Ugly.” Tyler scowled. “I don’t want it. Men shouldn’t be pale.” Me: “Suit yourself. Don’t cry when you can’t get a girlfriend.” Tyler: “The girl I like won’t be that superficial.” Me: “Right. She likes your lonely soul.” He stared at me weirdly. Back at his dorm, his roommates caught him applying the sunscreen. “Yo! Mr. Manly Man is using skincare?” “Must be seeing a girl. Skipped nap time to see her, huh?” Tyler stayed silent.

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My mother blinded my father, then killed my grandmother, all to possess him completely. On the day of my college entrance exam, she tried to sell me off. My father dragged her down with him to their deaths to save me. Ten years later, I traveled back in time to the year my father turned eighteen. 1 Today is the day of my dad’s college entrance exam. 7:00 AM. I’m standing by the side of the road my dad takes every morning, gripping a dog leash tightly in my hand. A bright red motorcycle roars towards me. The woman sitting on the back is my mother. She’s wearing a helmet, but I recognize the black wolf head tattoo on her tan arm. I see her unscrewing a bottle cap. The liquid inside is acid. She plans to use it to blind my father. In the original timeline, my grandmother died in a car accident rushing him to the hospital. My mother used my grandmother’s body as leverage to force my dad into marriage, making him live as a submissive son-in-law in her family’s home. She abused him for five years and ruined his entire life. The motorcycle is getting closer. I toss a meaty pork bone onto the road and let go of the leash. The big black dog, hungry from fasting all night, bolts into the street. The rider swerves in panic. The bike crashes into the flowerbed, throwing my mother off. She doesn’t have time to react. The liquid in the bottle splashes onto her face, some of it getting into her eyes. She screams. “I can’t see out of my left eye! I’m blind!” At the same time, the patrol officer I contacted earlier arrives on the scene. The rider panics at the sight of the uniform. He immediately points at my mother, confessing that she forced him to drive the bike so she could blind my dad. My mother breaks free from the officer’s grip and charges at me across the road. The officer reacts quickly, twisting her arm behind her back and pinning her to the ground. I haven’t been reborn. I’ve time-traveled to this era in my own body. I look very much like my dad, so she assumes I’m his sister. “You little bitch! Your brother is mine! He can’t escape! I’m going to make you watch while I ruin him!” A primal fear of her washes over me. My vision goes black, and I fall backward. I fall into a warm embrace that smells like sunshine. “Hey, are you okay?” The boy speaking is handsome, with sparkling peach-blossom eyes full of gentleness. He looks like a character straight out of a manga. It’s my dad. My eighteen-year-old dad. I hug him tightly. “Dad, I missed you so much!” 2 I started remembering things when I was about three. I didn’t have a mom, only a dad. He was a blind man of few words. Whenever I cried for my mom, he would “look” at me coldly, his eyes hiding sharp blades. I thought he hated me. That made me want a mom even more. A soft, beautiful, gentle mom. Then, the night before my college entrance exam, she appeared. Fresh out of prison, she was like a wild hyena, chewing up my fantasies of motherly love. She was tall and strong. She punched me in the stomach. Dragging me by my hair, she ran her hands over me. “Great body. Pretty face, just like your dad. You’ll sell for a good price. “Hehe, I distracted your dad on purpose. I chose today to ruin you. Just like I ruined him years ago. “I’ll record you serving clients. With that video, your dad will be a dog at my feet. If I tell him to lick, he’ll lick. “You think you two can escape me? Maybe in your next life!” Despair swallowed me whole. Just as she was dragging me out the door, I screamed, “Dad!” He came back. He threw away his cane and tackled my mom. When she was forced to let go of me, he said his last words: “Live well. Don’t look down.” He hugged my mom tightly and crashed through the floor-to-ceiling window. We were on the fifteenth floor. 3 My dad loved me. I only realized it the moment he died. He was blind, yet he took care of everything for me. He could easily solve any difficult problem I had, helping me become a top student loved by teachers and classmates alike. His love was silent like a river under the moon, cool to the touch, enriching my otherwise dry life. I wanted to love him back, but I never got the chance. Until I arrived in his eighteenth year. The year all the tragedies were about to begin. 4 I woke up crying and saw my grandma. My mom hadn’t blinded my dad, and she hadn’t orchestrated the car accident that killed my grandma. After I fainted, grandma brought me to their home. My dad returned home after his exam. He thanked me first. If not for me, he would have been blinded by my mom and missed the exam. Then, he asked, “How did you know Chloe was going to hurt me?” “And,” his ears turned slightly red, making the mist in his eyes even hazier, “why did you call me Dad?” I stared at him, unwilling to blink. I compared this bright, lively boy with the silent, stagnant father in my memory. I loved both of them. But I couldn’t be his daughter anymore. Since I wouldn’t appear in his future, I shouldn’t give him hope. So, I made up a reasonable excuse: “My dad looked a lot like you. He died in the Nier coal mine. Chloe’s father killed him. I didn’t want Chloe to hurt you. “I miss my dad a lot. Can I keep calling you that?” A deep blush spread from his ears to his neck. Inexperienced and kind-hearted, he agreed to my request. “Chloe and her dad have ruined so many lives.” Disgust appeared on his face at the mention of her name. My mom, Chloe Nier, was a coal tycoon’s daughter. Her family had money and power. This made her arrogant and domineering. Whatever she wanted, she had to have. In her senior year, she transferred to my dad’s school and fell in love with him at first sight. She kidnapped him to her house that very day. My dad was an excellent student, a top prospect for Ivy League schools. The principal rescued him overnight. This only fueled my mom’s desire to conquer him. She publicly declared she would have him. My dad knew that to escape her, he had to get into a top university far away. When he told me he did well on today’s exam, I warned him: “Dad, there’s another exam tomorrow. Chloe won’t let you take it. She’ll definitely make a move tonight.” 5 As expected, at midnight. Chloe climbed over the wall into my dad’s courtyard. Under the pale moonlight, her left eye was bandaged. She looked like a ghost standing at the door. She tore open her school uniform and screamed, “Help! Help! James raped me!” My dad lived in an urban village, densely populated. Lights turned on in all the neighboring houses. Mrs. Lee next door rushed out first. She saw my mom half-naked, blood trickling down her leg. My mom cried, kneeling before Mrs. Lee: “Auntie, during the day, James’s sister blinded me and framed me. James threatened me, saying if I didn’t want to go to jail, I had to come to his house. “As soon as I got here, he raped me. It hurts, everything hurts!” She pretended to faint in Mrs. Lee’s arms. Mrs. Lee’s husband was the patrol officer. She had a strong sense of justice. She held my mom and shouted to Mr. Lee, “Old Lee, catch that little beast James and take him to the station!” Other neighbors arrived and heard my mom’s story. Like Mrs. Lee, they were furious. “James is a beast in human skin! Lock him up!” “If he rapes one girl today, he’ll rape another tomorrow!” “Old Lee, beat him up before taking him in!” Rape is a felony. I stood behind the door, looking through the crack. I saw the smug smile on my mom’s face as she lay in Mrs. Lee’s arms. I opened the door and shouted, “Only my grandma and I are home. We two women don’t have the tools to rape Chloe. “Chloe stripped herself naked to frame my dad.” Chloe couldn’t pretend to be unconscious anymore. She clutched her chest and cried, “I’m not lying! James raped me! “After he finished, he ran away. “His sister and mom held me down while James did it. “My family is rich, and I’m beautiful. James wanted to date me, but I refused, so he took revenge. “I’m dirty now! I don’t want to live!” She pushed Mrs. Lee away and ran to bash her head against the wall.

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The Mexican Black Kingsnake I raised for five years only responded to my body heat. His favorite thing was wrapping himself around my neck, flicking his tongue against my collarbone in an affectionate display. But after returning from a two-week business trip, I suddenly heard his inner thoughts: [Hiss… that pretty lady who fed me these past few days has amazing hands. I want her to scratch my belly…] [Hiss, even the way she placed the mice was perfect.] [Snake wants to go home with her.] I laughed out of sheer anger. I called my assistant right then and there: “Get me a Hognose snake. Within ten minutes.” “And make sure it’s not stupid.” 1 The moment I pushed open the door, the smart lights illuminated the entire penthouse. Despite the exhaustion clinging to me from the trip, all I could think about was Onyx—my Mexican Black Kingsnake of five years. This little guy had a quirky temper. For five years, he would only settle down if he felt my body heat. I was busy with work and didn’t have much time for him. Usually, after a short trip, no matter how late it was, I’d let him coil around me first, feeling that faint warmth beneath his icy scales. Onyx loved wrapping around my neck, as if marking his territory. His forked tongue flickering against my collarbone felt like a silent declaration, or maybe just affection. I once thought this bond was unique to us. “Onyx, Mama’s home.” Even though I wasn’t sure if snakes understood human speech, I greeted him out of habit. I dropped my suitcase and walked toward the climate-controlled glass vivarium, my voice betraying an eagerness I hadn’t noticed. “Did you miss Mama?” Inside the glass enclosure, the snake, black as satin, moved slowly and lifted his head. His emerald eyes gleamed coldly under the lights. He slithered toward the opening, habitually reaching for my outstretched finger. Just like always. But just as his small head was about to touch my fingertip, just as I was anticipating the cool touch of his scales… A clear, unfamiliar voice rang in my ear without warning: [Hiss… the pretty lady’s technique was better. Scratching felt so good, made my whole body tingle.] My finger froze in mid-air, twitching involuntarily. Who said that? I whipped my head around. The spacious apartment was empty, save for one person and one snake. Was I hallucinating? I stared incredulously at the Black Kingsnake in front of me. He seemed confused too, tilting his black head, flicking his blue-purple tongue, hissing softly. We stared at each other. He looked innocent, as if asking why I hadn’t petted him yet. Must have… heard it wrong. I took a deep breath, suppressing my erratic heartbeat, and reached out to touch Onyx again. He dodged. He. Dodged. Me. I felt like I’d been struck by lightning. I stood frozen. What was happening? In five years, aside from being shy at the very beginning, Onyx had never avoided my touch. He knew my scent! He knew my temperature! I refused to believe it. I reached for his head again. Hiss— In a flash, Onyx’s head retracted violently. He opened his mouth wide, letting out a threatening hiss. It was a pre-strike warning. If I moved another inch, he would lunge and constrict without hesitation. [Don’t touch Snake!] [Uncomfortable.] [Dirty.] It felt like someone had dumped a bucket of ice water over me. I was chilled to the bone. 2 [Tsk, Owner is clumsy. Always shoves food in the corner, making Snake go hunt it down.] [Unlike Pretty Lady. She fed Snake right to the mouth. Just had to lift my head to bite.] [Owner’s petting technique sucks too. Sometimes pets against the scales. Almost annoyed Snake to death.] [And always kissing Snake. Smells weird. Snake doesn’t like it. Annoying.] [Miss Pretty Lady. Want Pretty Lady to scratch Snake’s belly.] The barrage of thoughts hit me, making me dizzy. Was this… Onyx’s inner monologue? The smile on my face stiffened, then vanished. Blood rushed to my head, then drained away just as fast. For this two-week trip, afraid he’d go hungry, I hired a temporary pet sitter at a high rate. Her resume was impressive, a supposed reptile enthusiast. Impressive. Yeah. Impressive indeed! I straightened up slowly, looking down at Onyx in the glass tank. He seemed to realize his aggression was inappropriate and shrank back slightly. But in those eyes—eyes I used to call the most beautiful emeralds—there was a lingering longing for that “Pretty Lady.” [Hiss… hiss… Snake misses Pretty Lady. She smells so good. Unlike Owner, too pungent…] [Snake wants to go home with Pretty Lady.] It felt like someone had chiseled a hole in my heart, the wind whistling through it. Five years of meticulous care. The climate-controlled tank alone cost me tens of thousands. I even shortened my trips because I was afraid he’d be lonely. And a two-week absence gets me “I want to go home with Pretty Lady”? The absurdity and the rage of betrayal made my heart tremble. But then, I laughed softly. I took out my phone and dialed my assistant directly. “Get me a Hognose snake. Within ten minutes.” My voice was surprisingly calm. My assistant on the other end was clearly confused. “Huh? Ms. Su, you mean… a Hognose?” “Yes, a Hognose.” I stared at Onyx, whose body had gone rigid inside the tank. I enunciated every word clearly. “I want an adult. The best specimen you can find. And—” I drew out the syllable. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Onyx poking his head out, staring at me. Fear, confusion, inquiry… He was observing me. “If it’s stupid, I don’t want it.” I hung up. The air was dead silent. I watched Onyx slowly retract his head. His voice sounded in my ear again. [Hognose? That idiot snake that plays dead when scared?] [Too dumb. Only good for being a human pet.] [But good food for Snake. Just right.] [Owner still cares about Snake. Feeding me snake instead of mice now.] The funniest part was hearing the smugness in his tone. [Must be compensation for leaving Snake alone for so long.] [Every time Owner goes on a long hunt, she brings back good stuff. All-you-can-eat mice, comfier bedding, and…] I hadn’t expected that walnut-sized brain of his to remember so much. He remembered all the good I did for him. Did that mean… there was still a chance to reconcile? A flicker of hope rose in my chest, only to be extinguished by his next thought: [Snake is willing to let Owner go hunting more often.] [That way Snake gets yummy food and gets to see Pretty Lady.] [Owner can stay gone forever. Just provide food.] … Ha. My face went cold instantly. Dream on. Too bad the good life he fantasized about was never going to happen. 3 While waiting for my assistant, I sat near the vivarium and worked. My mind wasn’t on it. I didn’t have many hobbies, but I had a natural affinity for snakes. Even as a kid at the zoo, I only wanted to see the pythons in the reptile house. Other kids cried in fear; I wanted to climb in and sleep with them. Cold-blooded animals that lay in wait, gathering strength to deliver a fatal strike. I admired that. So five years ago, when I started my business from nothing and finally became “Ms. Su,” my first gift to myself was Onyx. He was my first and only pet. I took care of him with everything I had. Even on business trips, I demanded daily reports, photos, and videos. I bought him the cleanest, most tender mice and filled his bowl with premium mineral water. And in return, he proved fickle. I slammed my laptop shut. I let out a long breath. It’s just a snake. If his heart changed, then I didn’t want him anymore. The doorbell rang. My assistant squeezed through the door, hugging a box, sweating profusely. “Ms. Su, here’s the Hognose you asked for… I bought it…” She sat on the floor, carefully placing the box down. I opened it. A beautiful yellow-and-white Hognose snake flinched, sensing the change in environment. It looked up with blood-red beady eyes, appearing very confused. My assistant caught her breath and asked, “Ms. Su, is this… food for Onyx?” She had learned a thing or two about snakes from me over the years. “But… snake eating snake… isn’t that dangerous?” “What if it hurts Onyx…” I smiled and shook my head. “It won’t.” “Huh?” The assistant was lost. I didn’t explain. I pointed to Onyx’s tank. “You know how to catch a snake, right?” “Y-yes.” “Good.” I stood up, holding the Hognose box, and winked at her. “Take Onyx out and clean the tank.” “Then put this Hognose in.” Onyx, who had lived in a luxury villa for five years, was getting evicted. 4 My assistant was stunned. She had been with me for a long time. Back when the company was just starting and the pay wasn’t great. She was a fresh grad who knew nothing but handed me her resume. I saw she was willing to work, so I kept her. She watched me raise Onyx. She knew how much I cared. She opened her mouth to ask, but seeing my face, she swallowed her words. Rule number one of being an assistant: Don’t overanalyze the boss. She gulped and walked silently to Onyx’s tank. Onyx seemed to understand. He flattened his head, his blue-purple tongue flicking out with a warning hiss. [What is Owner doing! Why not feed Snake?] [Owner must be joking. Owner never lets anyone else touch Snake.] [Snake doesn’t like this human. Go away!] [Snake wants Pretty Lady! Pretty Lady!] His thoughts were giving me a headache. If there was a mute button for Onyx, I would have pressed it. “Ms. Su… ah!” The assistant was still scared of Onyx. Her finger barely entered the tank before Onyx struck, forcing her to recoil. She didn’t dare move again. She looked like she was about to cry. “Maybe you should do it… I’m scared…” Even though I told her Black Kingsnakes are non-venomous and constrictors. Their actual bite force might be less than the Hognose in my hand. But getting bitten by an adult snake isn’t fun. “Get the spare tank from over there. I’ll grab him.” “Okay!” Relieved, she ran to get the plastic tub. I walked up to Onyx and looked down at him indifferently. Seeing me, his small black head reached up, tongue flickering. [Owner, Owner, Snake hungry…] [Why haven’t you fed me the Hognose yet…] I reached out. Like always, he wrapped dependently around my finger. But the moment I touched him, I pinched his neck, right at the “seven-inch” mark (the vital spot). Hard. [Owner!] His panicked voice exploded in my ear. His tail instinctively wrapped around my hand, squeezing tight. A final struggle. [Owner! Pain! Can’t breathe!] [Owner!] His screams elicited zero sympathy. I tossed him into the spare tank my assistant held out. The spare tank was basic. Just substrate, a plastic hide, a heat mat, and a water bowl. Onyx landed in a daze, curled up on the floor. It took him a while to lift his head, trembling. My assistant looked shocked by my roughness. “Ms. Su, th-that’s Onyx… why…” I rotated my wrist, expression calm. “When I came back, he tried to attack me.” “Five years and he’s not tame. I don’t have time to waste on him.” “If you like him, take him.” She shook her head vigorously. “No, no, I can’t afford a snake.” “Just leave him there. I need to clean this tank. Give me a hand.” “O-okay, Ms. Su!” She closed the lid on the spare tank and helped me scrub the big vivarium. Snakes are sensitive to smell. I needed to wipe away every trace of Onyx so the Hognose could settle in. The process took three hours. Occasionally, I checked on the Hognose, not sparing a glance for Onyx on the floor. But I could hear his confused thoughts: [Is Owner cleaning the house for Snake?] [Snake knew it. Owner still loves Snake.] [But Owner hurt Snake too much! Snake has a temper now. Even with good food, Snake won’t talk to Owner!] [What is Owner saying… Snake attacked her? Snake is just a snake, couldn’t control instincts.] [Besides, Snake didn’t hurt Owner.] [Owner is so petty. Snake bit Pretty Lady before, and she didn’t throw Snake away. She called Snake strong…] Onyx, the dramatic snake, decided to ignore me and slithered into the plastic hide, leaving only his tail visible. I ignored his internal drama. Once the big tank was clean, I put the Hognose inside. This snake was either stupid or incredibly chill. The moment he was in, he started exploring. And his voice was full of wonder: [Wow, is this Snake’s new home?] [So big, so majestic, love it!] [Snake saw it. Owner cleaned it herself.] [Thank you, Owner!] Those two sweet “Owners” filled me with satisfaction. And amusement. So cute. Totally different from Onyx. They say you should leave a new snake alone for three days, but I gently tapped his little head. “From now on, your name is Sunny.” His yellow pattern looked like sunlight on snow.

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Two years after I died, I reincarnated as a stray cat. My cat mom carried me by the scruff of my neck to a familiar house. I looked up at the building I knew by heart, then at my ex-boyfriend—and his eight-pack abs—and swallowed a mouthful of kitty drool. My ex squatted down, scratching my mom’s chin, and muttered to himself, “I really want to adopt it, but she is afraid of cats.” Wow. He moved on that fast? I widened my kitten eyes and glared at him. “Babe, what’s wrong?” A familiar male voice drifted out from behind my ex. Wait a minute. Hold on. His current partner is a guy? 1 It was the second year after my death when I came back as a stray. I was the only kitten in the litter to survive. When I could finally wobble around on my paws, my cat mom stared at me with her big, round eyes for a long time. Then she started grooming me obsessively, meowing while she licked. I understood her. She was saying, You need to be clean. That way, a nice human will adopt you, and you’ll have a good life. I asked her if she would come with me. She didn’t answer. She just grabbed my scruff and dragged me out the door. Even though I was getting used to walking on four legs, I was still terrified of heights. I’d watched cat livestreams before, but experiencing “parkour mode” in first-person view was dizzying. Mom agility-jumped us into a gated community and didn’t drop me until we reached a specific door. My head was spinning. I spun in a few circles and flopped over. Mom scratched at the door until it opened. I looked up. It was the same layout I remembered. And there stood Liam, my ex, dripping wet, wearing nothing but a towel. “???” I exploded into a fuzzball on the spot. Liam must have just stepped out of the shower. Water droplets were racing down those abs. He crouched down, petting my mom with one hand and opening a can of wet food with the other. “Sorry, got caught up with something today. Didn’t put food out. Starving, huh?” The towel gaped a little as he squatted. Cover your shame, man! I tried to shout, but it came out as a soft, sticky “Meow.” That’s when Liam noticed me. “Is this your baby? It’s so cute. I think we still have some goat milk powder. I’ll go make some.” He headed to the kitchen. I stood at the door, peering inside. The furniture, the clutter—it was exactly how I left it. I wondered how he was doing. Did he still… think of me? While I was lost in thought, Liam came back with the milk. His warm palm covered my head, rubbing gently. I purred involuntarily. The last time we touched like this, I was in a hospital bed. Liam had covered my eyes and whispered, “Don’t be scared. Our Riley is the bravest girl in the world.” Deep-seated emotions bubbled up. I let out a stifled meow, my eyes getting wet. I had planned to find him once I could walk properly, but I didn’t expect my cat mom to bring me straight here. To let him adopt me. Driven by that thought, I stumbled toward him. My cat mom nudged me from behind, encouraging me. Liam paused, seeming to understand her intention. He scratched her chin and whispered, “I really want to adopt it, but she is afraid of cats.” I had just rubbed my face against his ankle. Never mind. Cat head retraction initiated. 2 My cat mom didn’t know what Liam said, but she could read the room. She meowed anxiously, nudging me to rub against him again, trying to show off how clean my fur was. I wanted to speak, but how could I explain? As far as I knew, no one in Liam’s circle was afraid of cats. I loved them. When I was alive, stray cats used to escort me home, and Liam would always smile and give them treats. So who was afraid of cats? His new partner, presumably. It’s been a year. He has his own life. He had to start over. No one stays in the past forever. I looked up at him. He looked tanner than before, with dark circles under his eyes. Only those eyes were as bright as I remembered. Too bad the reflection in them wasn’t me anymore. I wanted to leave, but Mom wouldn’t let me. She grabbed me and dropped me at Liam’s feet again, standing guard outside. Liam sighed. While we were in this standoff, a familiar male voice came from behind him. “Babe, what’s wrong?” Wait. Why is it a guy? Then, my arch-nemesis Wes’s big, stupid face leaned into view. “You’re feeding strays? Remember, don’t bring them inside. They’re full of bacteria. Filthy.” Liam didn’t say anything, but his expression was resigned, like he was used to this. He might be used to it, but I wasn’t. I launched myself at Wes with a combo of fury swipes. Filthy?! Who are you calling filthy?! Wes, you piece of garbage! You fought me when I was alive, and now that I’m dead, you stole my boyfriend?! My paw pads smacked against him with a satisfying thud-thud. Afraid Wes would hurt me, Liam scooped me up. “The kitten knows you’re bad-mouthing it.” Damn straight. I started yelling at Liam in cat language too. If you found a nice girl, I’d accept it. But my nemesis? And a guy? Are you trying to kill me twice? I swung a paw at Liam, but my legs were too short. I missed. Liam laughed and poked my head. I hissed. Wes frowned, looking at the spot where I’d hit him, lost in thought. “If you touch the cat, wash your hands. Or don’t even think about getting in bed tonight.” Wes dropped that bombshell and went to the bathroom. Soon, I heard the shower running. “I know,” Liam replied, good-natured as always. Great. Just great. One year after my death, my boyfriend and my enemy are together. Judging by that tone, they’re sleeping together??? When did this start? After I died? Or were they colluding while I was still here? No matter what, I had to make Liam adopt me. I needed to see what the hell was going on. 3 That night, I patrolled my new territory. Wes, wearing rubber gloves, pointed a finger at me and yelled, “Liam! It’s me or the cat! One of us goes!” Hearing Liam’s footsteps, I immediately flopped over and let out a weak, pathetic meow. Liam panicked, scooped me up, and put me in the cat bed. “Keep your voice down. The kitten is new; it’ll get stressed.” “Then send it back! I’ll buy extra cat food for the strays tomorrow, okay?” Absolutely not. “Meow~” I shivered. I was weak. I was helpless. I wobbled to my feet and put my paws together in a begging motion. Liam immediately blocked me from Wes’s view. “Wes, calm down. We need to talk.” “There’s nothing to talk about.” Wes turned and slammed the door to the guest bedroom, locking it. I gritted my teeth. I hand-picked every piece of furniture in this apartment. How dare he slam my door? Liam looked upset. He turned to comfort me, then went to the guest room. He knocked and spoke quietly for a long time before Wes opened the door. They both went inside. I hesitated, then tiptoed to the door to eavesdrop. Thanks to my superior cat hearing, I caught bits and pieces. “…Are you crazy? That’s a cat!” “I know, but she might…” “You’re seriously sick. Send it away tomorrow!” “…” It was like they had a censor filter on. I couldn’t hear the keywords. I spun around anxiously, trying different poses to hear better. Suddenly, the door opened. I tumbled into the room, limbs splayed. “Meow?” Wes sneered down at me. “Look at that. Eavesdropping? I thought it was ‘stressed’?” “What does a kitten know?” Liam picked me up and carried me out. “It understood when I insulted it earlier, but now it knows nothing?” “Wes! Listen to yourself. It’s a cat! It’s not even a month old!” “You better hope it’s just a cat.” I didn’t understand what they were arguing about, but I knew Wes was up to no good. Liam carried me away, looking downcast. He was angry. I extended a paw toward Wes, who looked equally annoyed. I stretched my toes, retracted the others, and left one specific claw out. The middle one. Being flipped off by a kitten must be a first for him. But Wes didn’t get mad. He just stared at my claw, stunned. What’s his deal? Is he a masochist? When I’m cute, he hates me. When I abuse him, he shuts up. I was put back in the cat bed. Since I arrived at night, they didn’t have supplies. Liam rummaged around and finally pulled out a big red scarf to cover me. Hey! Liam! It took me half a month to knit that scarf! You’re giving it to a cat? Even though the cat is me, I still felt salty about it. “Have a good sleep. Goodnight.” Liam kissed my head, his tone sickeningly sweet. If I weren’t a cat right now, I’d think I’d traveled back to the old days. 4 My name is Riley (Yan Nannan). I grew up in foster care. Wes was in the same group home, a year younger than me. We fought from day one. The worst time, I broke my arm, and he got his head split open. The director told us if we fought again, we’d be kicked out. So we dialed it back. After high school, I got into a university up North, a thousand miles away. Before I left, we fought again because Wes hid my suitcase. He blocked the door, glaring at me. “Riley! Didn’t you apply to schools in the South?” “Yeah, but my grades slipped, so I got into the Northern one. Are you sick? Give me my suitcase or I’ll pound you!” He didn’t speak. He just stared at me. So I punched him. I grabbed my suitcase and left, nursing a sore hand. Later, I found out Wes got accepted to a school in the South, a thousand miles away from the home. Whatever. It had nothing to do with me. Further the better. Looking at him made me angry. I never went back to the group home. I worked part-time through college to survive. After graduation, I worked days and hustled nights. Because I had to feed myself and my cat. I found the cat by the road, soaking wet like it had been fished out of a river. I wrapped it in my scarf. Just as I was about to leave, I heard splashing from the nearby pond. More cats? I rushed over. I saw a guy clinging to the bank, half his body still in the water, too exhausted to pull himself up. I put the cat on the grass and went to pull him out. He looked up. His dull eyes suddenly lit up when he saw me. “I’ve got you. Don’t let go.” He nodded and scrambled up. Luckily, I’m strong. I yanked him onto the grass in one go. He collapsed on the slope, gasping for air. “Do you need an ambulance?” “Is the cat okay?” We spoke at the same time, then smiled. “No, I just need to rest.” “Okay.” I picked the cat up and sat next to him to show him. The cat was shaking, but conscious, looking at us timidly. The guy drove us to the vet. Luckily, the cat was fine, just scared and had an ear infection. I happily shoved the medical report into his hand. “Good news! Father and son are safe!” He paused, then laughed. “Yeah. Father and son are safe.” My eyes lingered on the wet business card in his hand—”Song Huixun” (Liam).

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My husband, the man who claimed to love me more than life itself, is keeping an eighteen-year-old mistress on the side. His excuse? She looks exactly like I did when we were young. He claims he’s just “letting true love continue.” Ridiculous. The day I found out I was pregnant, I went to his office to surprise him. instead, I walked in on the girl sitting on his lap, feeding him wine mouth-to-mouth. She asked him, “Am I just her replacement?” He pulled her tighter and sneered, “Is she even worthy of being compared to you?” I turned around, walked out, scheduled an abortion, and called my aunt overseas. “Aunt Sarah, I’ve decided. I’m moving to Australia.” Aunt Sarah paused for a second before her voice burst with relief. “Claire! You’ve finally made up your mind! I’ll have your uncle start the paperwork immediately. It should take about ten days. Wait for my update.” I hung up and drove straight home. When I walked through the door, Nathaniel was already sitting in the living room. There was a rare look of panic in his eyes. “You’re back late. Where were you?” I held up the pharmacy bag in my hand, my voice flat. “Nowhere special. My stomach’s been acting up. Went to the doctor, grabbed some prescriptions and herbal supplements.” My health has always been fragile, and getting pregnant was a miracle. After the abortion procedure today, the doctor specifically prescribed these supplements to help my body recover. Seeing my expression remain calm, Nathaniel finally got to the point. “Did you stop by the office today? Why did you leave right after you got there?” I guessed the receptionists had told him they saw me. But he wasn’t sure if I’d seen them. In reality, they were only intimate for those few seconds. The little assistant fed him a sip of wine and then hopped off his lap. “I was just passing by. I saw you were busy with your assistant, so I didn’t want to interrupt.” He visibly exhaled, the tension leaving his shoulders. My heart gave a sharp, dull throb. We’ve been married seven years. To everyone around us, we were the power couple, the soulmates. I thought we’d grow old together, but I never expected his heart to wander so quickly. “She was just giving me a report! You know how it is,” he laughed nervously. “She’s young, fresh out of school. She doesn’t know the rules yet, so she stood a little too close.” Nathaniel walked over and wrapped his arm around my shoulder, his tone dripping with tenderness. “Babe, we haven’t been back to our college campus in ages. I’m free tomorrow. Why don’t we go take a walk? Relive the old memories.” He looked relaxed, eager even. We were college sweethearts. From hoodies to wedding gowns. Every anniversary, we’d go back to campus. But this year, Nathaniel said work was too crazy, so we skipped it. Now I realized he wasn’t busy with work. He was busy entertaining an eighteen-year-old. I sighed and shook my head. “Maybe later. The doctor put me on these meds for ten days. I have to brew the herbal tea every night. It’s a hassle.” He hummed an acknowledgement, his fingers gently stroking my long hair. I turned my body slightly, subtly dodging his touch. His hand froze in mid-air. “Claire, you seem… unhappy. Is this about Mia standing too close today?” “Mia’s just a kid. She didn’t mean anything by it. You wouldn’t hold a grudge against an eighteen-year-old girl, would you?” My heart seized painfully. Once upon a time, I was an eighteen-year-old girl, too. I looked up, my eyes empty. “No. I’m not holding a grudge.” His face brightened immediately. “That’s my girl. Hey, there’s a luxury jewelry auction next week. Pick whatever you want; I’ll win it for you.” Just an hour ago, I had seen Mia’s update on Instagram. My Silver Fox said he’s taking me to the auction next week to show me the world. He promised to win the grand finale piece just for me! I love my man so much. <3 Below the caption was a photo of two hands making a heart shape. In the photo, the wedding band on Nathaniel’s ring finger was blindingly obvious. I gave him a cool glance. "No thanks. Win it for someone else." Nathaniel’s eyes darkened. He was about to say something when his phone pinged. It was a message from Mia. Just a photo. A bed covered in various... toys. He glanced down, and I saw his Adam’s apple bob. "Claire, a new deal just popped up. I have to go out of town for a few days." He rushed out the door, unable to hide the excitement in his eyes. I remembered the countless nights before this. The "urgent meetings," the "sudden business trips." Just then, a message from Aunt Sarah popped up on my screen. Claire, your uncle finished the immigration application. Everything is approved. See you next week! Nathaniel came back a week later. I thought he’d go straight to the office, but he came home during the morning rush hour. Mia had been posting non-stop on social media all week. The latest photo showed her in a sheer, white negligee. It was the perfect mix of innocent and provocative. The caption read: My Silver Fox loves the new battle armor. He said he wants to rip it off with his own hands! I laughed dryly and typed a comment: It’s definitely his style. Moments later, the post was deleted. As soon as Nathaniel walked in, he was on the offensive. "Claire, I already explained everything! Mia is just a kid. Why are you targeting her?" I paused, realizing he must have seen the comment on the deleted post. Sure enough, seeing my silence fueled his anger. "She just posted about being lucky to have a good boss, and you leave such a nasty comment? Insulting a little girl?" "Claire, you’re thirty years old. Are you not embarrassed to be bullying a teenager?" I pressed my lips together and didn't defend myself. I let Mia paint me as the villain. I was leaving in three days. I didn't have the energy to care about what he thought anymore. Seeing that I wasn't fighting back like I usually would, Nathaniel’s guilt started to creep in. His tone softened. "Claire, you used to be so understanding. Why are you being so difficult lately? Is it because you’re not feeling well?" He placed a thermos on the dining table and ladled out a bowl of hot porridge. "I had the chef at the family estate make this stomach-soothing porridge just for you. I told them to make it fresh every day. I’ll pick it up for you every morning." He blew on a spoonful and held it to my lips. "Every time you’re sick, I wish I could take the pain for you." I frowned and kept my mouth shut. Nathaniel’s patience snapped. "Claire, enough is enough. You aren't eighteen anymore. Do you really expect me to baby you like we’re teenagers?" "Mia is the granddaughter of an old business partner. He asked me to look after her on his deathbed. Isn’t it normal for me to take care of her? Can’t you be a little more mature?" My lips curled in a sneer. Look after her? "Look after" her right into bed. Nice. Nathaniel always said he loved how sensible and obedient I was. I always put his feelings first. Even when I was hurt, if he offered a tiny olive branch, I’d take it. No drama, no scenes. Just like now. He thought that by lowering himself to feed me porridge, I should be grateful and move on. Fine. I was leaving for Australia anyway. No point in making him suspicious. "It's too hot. Put it down, I'll eat it later." Perhaps sensing my coldness, Nathaniel switched to his charming mode.

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