Author: Momo Chan

Two passengers were having sex in the airplane bathroom during turbulence. One of them passed out mid-act. As the aviation security officer on duty, I had no choice but to force the door open. In the cramped space, the two of them were stuck together like conjoined twins. The woman actually had the nerve to blame us: “You kept banging on the door! He got too nervous and passed out. I’m filing a complaint against you!” I froze in place. The woman in front of me was my wife, Mira. My wife, who said she had a business trip on our anniversary, was doing this with another man in an airplane bathroom! Looking at the disgusting scene before me, my throat felt like it had a fly stuck in it. Because I was wearing a mask, Mira didn’t recognize me. She kept cursing and hurrying us. I swallowed my disgust and said to a nearby flight attendant: “Use some lubricant to separate them first.” My colleague and I worked together to move them out. After all that struggling, both of them were drenched in cold sweat, their hair disheveled. When I got a clear look at the man’s face, my heart jolted. It was my buddy Tom. I never imagined there’d be any connection between them. After all, every time they met, Tom was pretty cold toward Mira. There was no time to dwell on it now. The area where they were connected had turned purple-black, indicating blocked blood circulation. Tom’s face was deathly pale, his breathing unstable. We had to act fast. Looking at the absurd scene before me, I couldn’t help but find it laughable. I took the lubricant my colleague had fetched, poured a generous amount on my hands, and was about to apply it to where they were stuck together. Perhaps breathing in the fresh air revived him—Tom opened his eyes at that moment. Seeing what I was about to do, he immediately shouted to stop me: “What the hell are you putting on us? Mira has delicate skin. What if she has an allergic reaction?” I explained patiently, “This is lubricant. There are no harmful ingredients. The priority right now is to separate you two.” Tom scoffed. “You say it’s harmless, so it’s harmless? Let me tell you, Mira can only use a special rose essential oil.” I didn’t respond. At a critical moment like this, he was being picky about lubricant. I kept a straight face and held down his squirming body, preparing to continue. But he raised his hand and slapped me across the face. “Are you deaf? Without the oil I want, don’t you dare touch us!” My colleagues were all stunned, looking at each other. These two had been eye-opening from start to finish. The captain, worried that further delay would cause problems, gritted his teeth and made the call: “Someone go buy a bottle. Hurry there and back.” Only then did Tom nod with satisfaction. He grasped Mira’s hand and said tenderly: “Mira, this is my fault. I was too rough.” Mira had long been moved to a complete mess by him, shaking her head excitedly. “How could this be your fault? I should thank you for giving me such a different experience.” “From now on, you need to spend more time with me, experiencing this cloud nine happiness.” Listening to their nauseating sweet talk, I took a deep breath but choked on it, coughing violently. Mira frowned at me, opening her mouth impatiently: “Why aren’t they back yet? Do you all enjoy standing here watching us?” “Look at you people acting like you’ve never seen anything. What’s wrong with my husband and me having a little romantic fun?” “When you do separate us, you’d better be gentle. If anything happens to us, I’ll sue your airline in court!” Seeing her arrogant attitude, I couldn’t help but ask: “Then how about we just call an ambulance to take you both to the hospital right now?” Mira rolled her eyes at me. “How clever! You want us to make the front page of the news, is that it?” I sneered inwardly. Mira was quite calculating. She deliberately chose the dates when I had time off to fly with her lover. She didn’t expect that I’d cover for a colleague at the last minute. And normally, Mira always used being busy as an excuse, never accompanying me to any airline events. So no one at the airline knew she was my wife. From how naturally they called each other husband and wife, their relationship had clearly been going on for quite some time. I was a bit curious—if she knew I was standing right in front of her, what would her reaction be?

After the essential oil they requested was bought back, I poured the entire bottle on them, spread it evenly, and worked with my colleague to pull them apart. The process went relatively smoothly. Both were sent to get dressed separately. I stood there, my emotions inevitably complicated. Just then, my phone buzzed. It was Mira’s reply to the scheduled message I’d sent her. “Honey, I’m so sorry I can’t spend our anniversary with you again. This work trip is really important. I have to stay there for a week.” “Don’t worry, I’ll definitely bring you back a gift. Love you.” I’d just turned around when I heard Mira come out after changing, walking and complaining as she went. “It’s just an anniversary. What’s the big deal whether we celebrate it or not? Still sending those mushy messages—even high schoolers don’t do that anymore.” “But if I don’t reply, that won’t work either. So annoying!” I stared at her fake words, smiled bitterly, and replied briefly: “Okay, got it.” I hid in a corner and watched Mira stop, staring at her phone screen thoughtfully. I figured she was surprised that my reply was unusually bland. I’d started planning activities for our anniversary a long time ago. She knew how much I was looking forward to it, yet she still deceived me for Tom. I sighed and started walking out when I ran into a flight attendant from the earlier flight. “This is bad, Carter! That guy passed out again!” She continued breathlessly: “He came out after getting dressed, took just two steps, then suddenly clutched his neck like someone was choking him. His face turned purple, and then he collapsed.” I’d learned some first aid, so I immediately followed her over. During the examination, I found that Tom’s throat seemed swollen. His neck looked thick, and his limbs showed varying degrees of swelling. There were also some red rashes on his neck. A possibility suddenly flashed through my mind. Allergic reaction! The likely allergen was that bottle of essential oil from earlier. I quickly found the allergy medication I always carried in my pocket and fed it to Tom. Then I knelt beside him, performing CPR, while calling out to my colleague. “Call an ambulance quick! He’s about to suffocate!” Just then, a shrill female voice rang out. “No one is allowed to call an ambulance!” Mira stormed over aggressively and slapped me across the face. “This is all your fault for dragging things out too long earlier! Your attitude was terrible too. That’s what got him into this state!” Her expression was vicious, her eyes reddening with rage. My colleague, afraid she’d attack me again, quickly pulled me away. But Mira remained hysterical, pointing at the surrounding staff and cursing: “You still want to send him to a hospital? We’re prominent people in the business world, not nobodies like you! If word of this gets out, I absolutely won’t let any of you off!” All my colleagues’ faces turned iron-blue. Running into this lunatic during work hours—everyone couldn’t help but sigh silently. I quietly watched her lose it. Only now did I understand that all her gentleness and consideration toward me before had been an act. This was the real her—volatile and arrogant. One colleague couldn’t take it anymore: “Ma’am, he’s in this condition and you still won’t let us send him to a hospital. What’s more important—his life or your reputation?” “Why don’t you just have your family doctor come over? That way if something goes wrong, you won’t blame us.” Everyone chimed in agreement. Mira’s face turned white. She didn’t have any family doctor. She didn’t want to go to the hospital simply because she didn’t want more people to know. But she still replied defiantly: “There are more of you. I can’t argue with you all. I’m pregnant! You’re all bullying a pregnant woman. Your airline will go bankrupt sooner or later!”

I was completely stunned in place. For nearly a year, Mira and I hadn’t been intimate. She said she was frigid in that regard. This child couldn’t possibly be mine. A surge of frustration rose in my chest. I said to Mira unkindly: “You’re pregnant and still doing such intense activities? Did you two even think about the child?” “You’re completely unfit to be parents!” Mira, having her sore spot exposed, couldn’t help but clutch her stomach, lowering her eyes and stammering: “We were just seeking thrills. We couldn’t hold back.” The allergy medication was working. Tom half-opened his eyes at that moment, having heard those last few sentences. He lay there, his tone still caustic: “We do what we want. What are you? Mind your own business!” “I’m your gold card customer. I can do whatever I want on the plane. You working stiffs will never experience the kind of fun we have in your entire lives. If anyone dares to say another word, I’ll file a serious complaint against you!” Perhaps it was his blood pressure spiking, or perhaps the allergy medication’s effect was limited. He rolled his eyes back and passed out again. At an impasse, we had no choice but to find the airport’s on-call doctor to come over and put him on an IV. To prevent the two of them from going crazy again, I stood guard at the hospital room door. Just as the on-call doctor was examining Tom, Mira pulled me aside. She handed me an agreement and a bank card. “You’re their supervisor, right? I need all the staff who were present today to sign a confidentiality agreement. Anyone who signs gets ten thousand dollars. Go notify everyone and make it happen.” Hearing her imperious tone, I almost laughed out loud. “Not signing. Don’t want it.” I shook her off and walked away without looking back. Naturally, I didn’t see her resentful expression. I walked to the hospital room entrance. The on-call doctor told me Tom’s condition had stabilized. “The allergic reaction has been stopped. The allergen was a special ingredient in that rose essential oil.” “There’s a more serious problem. His reproductive area was overstimulated for too long and has currently lost function. He may lose that ability permanently.” The doctor said there was nothing he could do. It all depended on Tom’s own luck now. I nodded. The equipment in the room suddenly beeped. The doctor glanced at it, his tone grave: “He’s showing signs of oxygen deprivation. He needs a blood transfusion.” Finding someone on short notice wasn’t realistic. If something happened to Tom, Mira would go crazy and drag more colleagues into it. Thinking of this, I volunteered: “Take mine. I’m type O.” “Go tell his family first. If she gives you trouble, tell her she can come find me.” During the blood draw, my head suddenly felt dizzy, my temples throbbing. I nearly cried out. I sucked in a cold breath, endured it, and closed my eyes, not wanting to cause more trouble. The headache still didn’t ease. Cold sweat beaded on my forehead. I clenched my fists, veins bulging on the backs of my hands. Like this, I held on until the blood draw was complete. After confirming Tom’s condition was stable, I finally breathed a long sigh of relief. Just as I was about to head back, my feet felt unsteady and I nearly fell. The on-call doctor quickly caught me. “Why are you so hot? Carter, do you have a fever?” I nodded. I’d felt feverish since last night. The doctor urged me: “Go back and rest right away. After switching shifts, you’ve worked two overnight shifts in a row. Work is important, but your health is more important.” I smiled. “It’s not quitting time yet. That woman is too difficult. You won’t be able to handle her.” The doctor sighed: “You’re too conscientious and responsible. You always take everything on yourself.” “Those arrogant people don’t even think about it—without millions of people like you, how could they have pleasant journeys?” I smiled bitterly but couldn’t bring myself to defend Mira. My true identity was actually the only grandson of the Carter family, the future heir to the family fortune.

This airport was actually my newly acquired property. I wanted to start from the ground level to understand employees’ concerns, so I concealed my identity publicly. Mira’s family was also in business, but nowhere near my family’s level. Her company only developed to its current state because of investment from the Carter family. Usually she was considerate and attentive toward me, fooling my entire family. Not far away, Mira approached with five bodyguards in black, staring hard at me, coming on strong. The five bodyguards instantly pulled the doctor away and surrounded me. Before I could react, their fists and feet all came at me. Mira’s eyes were vicious, her teeth clenched: “Beat him hard! It’s all his fault that Tom became like this!” “He even dared talk back to me earlier. Does he really think I can’t deal with him?” Such a big commotion attracted the attention of many passersby. The sight of me bloody and battered was too shocking. For a moment, no one dared step forward to stop it. Mira pointed at me and continued cursing. “Because they delayed treatment, my husband lost his reproductive ability.” “This person even refused to keep our secret. I discovered he took private photos of us to make money. I offered him money and he wouldn’t sell them to me!” “How can this kind of scum still work here? Can passengers feel safe?” Hearing her twist the truth, I wanted to refute her, but was kicked in the ribs, which broke. I clutched my abdomen and coughed up blood. The doctor snapped out of it and desperately tried to push through, but was blocked by the bodyguards. Mira had the bodyguards stop, approached from above, and her high heel viciously kicked my chin. I was kicked down flat on the ground, my jaw unable to close—it must have been dislocated. Not satisfied, she used the sharp tip of her shoe to step on my face, grinding continuously. “Tom was fine just now. Did you hold a grudge and deliberately sabotage things to harm my husband? You’ve ruined my happiness for the rest of my life!” “If he doesn’t get better, don’t think you can escape either. I’ll make you suffer the same pain!” She vented almost maniacally. I was submerged in blood all over my face. I felt my eyelids getting heavier and heavier. Yet she still hadn’t stopped this brutality. She took out her phone, bent down, and prepared to pull off the mask on my face. “You wanted to sell my photos, didn’t you? I’ll expose you first!” The mask slipped from my face. Looking at my blood-covered face, Mira disgustedly wiped it. “I want to see what you look like!” She grabbed my hair, the phone camera right up close. However, when she got a clear look at my face, she froze completely. She let go as if electrocuted, asking in disbelief: “Carter, how… how could it be you?”

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At noon, I opened my lunch box in the office and found something shocking inside the container my wife, Emma, had packed for me—a pack of cigarettes and a condom. She’d also added cilantro to the salad. The moment I saw everything, a chill ran down my spine. First of all, I don’t smoke. Second, we always kept condoms in the nightstand drawer, so there was no reason to put one in my lunch box. Third, she knew I was allergic to cilantro. Why would she deliberately add it to my food? I thought about it for a moment, then picked up my phone and called my lawyer. “I need you to draw up divorce papers.” My lawyer happened to be my sister. When she heard I wanted a divorce, she screamed. “Are you out of your mind? Emma treats you so well! Just because she put cilantro in your food, you want a divorce? Don’t you think that’s a bit of an overreaction?” “Ryan, you’re being completely unreasonable. I’m not helping you with this divorce.” Before I could even respond, my sister had already made her stance clear. “Emma is amazing. Don’t be so petty over something small. Her cooking is delicious.” I couldn’t help but roll my eyes at my sister’s words. “You’re my lawyer. Can you at least try to be professional?” “I don’t care. You hired me as your lawyer, but I’m also Emma’s biggest supporter. If you want to divorce her, I’ll be the first to object.” My sister’s voice dripped with anger. “And if you think I’m going to draft divorce papers for you, forget it.” She hung up with a loud click. My sister had only graduated two years ago, and I’d gotten her a job at my company. Still too young. Too emotional. I didn’t bother arguing with her. Instead, I quickly reached out to a more professional legal team. Once I’d discussed everything with them, I had to admit—their efficiency was impressive. By the time I was about to leave work, the divorce agreement had already been drafted. Regarding the division of assets, the lawyers also offered some professional advice. They suggested I find the person who “ate the cilantro.” I understood what they meant. “Can I authorize you to handle this entirely? Money isn’t an issue.” “Mr. Carter, thank you for your trust. We won’t let you down.” The moment I hung up, my phone rang again. I glanced at the caller ID. It was my dad. He didn’t waste any time. His voice was harsh. “Get home within an hour, or I’m disowning you.” The line went dead. I stood there, speechless. I really hadn’t expected my sister, a lawyer, to have zero professional integrity. In the blink of an eye, her mouth had turned into a megaphone, spreading the news everywhere. I had no choice. I quickly gathered my things and drove to my parents’ house. The moment I stepped inside, I could feel something was off. Several figures sat in the living room. Every face was tight with tension, clearly serious. “Ryan, you’re back.” My sister spoke first. I shot her a look. She immediately fired back, undeterred. “What? I don’t agree with you divorcing Emma. And it’s not just me—Mom and Dad don’t agree either.” Her words drew everyone’s attention to me. My wife Emma was there too. She was sobbing, tears streaming down her face like rain on delicate petals. My parents were doing their best to comfort her. “You ungrateful bastard, you finally decided to show up.” My dad glared at me. “What are you standing there for? Get over here and apologize to Emma!” “Who gave you the nerve to divorce her?” My mom was equally furious. “I’m warning you—if you dare divorce Emma, I’ll cut ties with you as my son.” My sister crossed her arms and stood beside my parents, making her position crystal clear. In their eyes, Emma was a gentle, kind, and devoted wife. In the seven years we’d been married, she’d kept our home running smoothly. She’d treated my parents and my sister well enough. But even so, I wasn’t going to back down. This divorce was happening.

“Please don’t be angry with him. This isn’t Ryan’s fault. I must have done something wrong to upset him.” Emma started blaming herself. Her words only made my parents angrier. Suddenly, my dad rushed forward and slapped me across the face. “Emma married you. All these years, she’s given you children, taken care of me and your mother. She’s been nothing but dedicated. With a wife like her, what more could you possibly want?” “She gave you a child! How can you be so clueless?” “Get on your knees right now and apologize to her. Beg her to forgive you.” My dad’s voice was a command. “Mom, Dad—it’s my fault. I forgot Ryan is allergic to cilantro. If he eats it, his skin breaks out in a rash.” “I was up late last night helping our son with his homework, so I made a mistake when I prepared lunch this morning.” Emma walked up to me. “Ryan, I’m sorry. Please don’t be mad at me. I’ll be more careful from now on.” My sister stood across from me, teeth clenched and eyes blazing. She was naturally blunt, and fresh out of law school, still full of righteous indignation. Watching Emma apologize to me was too much for her. “Ryan, you’re such a bully! I can’t stand this. Emma is so wonderful, and look how you’ve treated her!” “Emma, come here. I’ll protect you.” My sister pulled Emma to her side. My mom joined in. “Why are you just standing there? Apologize to Emma! Tell her you won’t go through with the divorce. Ask for her forgiveness.” “Mom, Dad—what happens between me and Emma is none of your concern. This divorce is happening.” I knew that no matter what I said, it wouldn’t make a difference. So I turned and walked out. Once outside, I texted the legal team, asking when they’d have the evidence ready. Their reply came quickly. “Mr. Carter, we need some time. Please be patient.” I understood. Some things couldn’t be rushed. That night, I went home. Before long, Emma returned with our five-year-old son. The boy looked at me with something like fear in his eyes. When I glanced his way, he hid behind Emma. “Lucas, go to your room and rest. Mommy will come tell you a story later.” Lucas nodded obediently and ran off to his room. Emma sat down across from me. I pulled out the divorce papers and tossed them in front of her. “Look these over. If everything’s in order, sign them.” Emma glanced at the papers, then threw them back on the table. “Ryan, our son is still young. Are you really this heartless?” She was putting on another performance. “Let’s cut the act. I don’t want to play games with you. If you don’t sign, we’ll see each other in court.” My voice was cold. The pitiful expression on Emma’s face flickered and vanished. A cold smirk curled at the corner of her lips. “I’m not signing this. If you really want a divorce, the child stays with me, and you give me ten million dollars as compensation. Otherwise, there’s nothing to discuss.” “And whether you agree or not doesn’t matter. If you don’t cooperate, I’ll show you what I’m capable of.” “You know your parents and your sister are on my side. If you divorce me, you’ll be branded as an ungrateful, disloyal son. That kind of reputation can destroy you.” Emma’s entire demeanor had shifted. The woman standing before me now felt like a stranger. I steadied myself. “I’d love to see what you’re capable of.” I gathered the divorce papers and said nothing more.

The next morning, the news exploded. “CEO Demands Divorce Because Wife Put Cilantro in His Food!” The story shot straight to the top of the trending topics. My secretary told me about it while I was in my office. I clicked on the headline. According to the article, someone had anonymously leaked information—including a recording from inside my house the night before. Anonymous? Please. It was a pathetic attempt at misdirection. Thinking back to what Emma had said about showing me her “capabilities,” there was no doubt she was behind this. The story blew up online. Soon, videos surfaced of my parents and sister being interviewed. In the footage, they righteously condemned me. No question—Emma had orchestrated the whole thing. “If he dares divorce Emma, our whole family will disown him. But if he comes to his senses, I might give him one more chance.” In the video, Emma still played the victim perfectly. The comments were brutal. “What kind of man is this? Even his own parents have turned against him! He must be absolute garbage!” “When his parents and sister side with the daughter-in-law, that says everything about his character.” “He’s definitely got someone on the side. He’s tired of his wife and wants to dump her for a younger model! I’ve seen his type a thousand times!” “Boycott his company! Don’t buy any of his products!” The outrage spread like wildfire. By the end of the workday, Emma called me. “Ryan, have you seen what I can do now? Ready to agree to my terms?” “Don’t bother trying to record this. I’m not falling for that. I sent you an address—let’s meet in person.” “No need to meet. And I wasn’t planning to record anything. I’m not agreeing to any of your conditions. In fact, I’m going to make sure you leave this marriage with nothing.” Emma laughed coldly. “If you won’t cooperate, don’t blame me for destroying you.” “If you think you can, go ahead and try.” I hung up. After taking a deep breath, I mailed out the hair samples I’d collected—mine and the child’s. Over the next two weeks, I faced attacks from every direction. My company ground to a halt. My own employees turned against me. Many resigned. Some even demanded that I apologize to Emma and admit I was wrong. My family publicly announced they were cutting ties with me. Overnight, I became a pariah—a man everyone wanted to see destroyed. Then Emma called again. “Ryan, are you ready to get on your knees and beg? Maybe if I’m feeling generous, I’ll let you off easy.” I said nothing and hung up. Finally, the legal team called. “Mr. Carter, we’re sorry for what you’ve been through. We’ve gathered all the evidence. We’re ready to go to court.” At the same time, I received the paternity test results. The child was not mine. “Mr. Carter? Are you there?” I took a deep breath. “Yes. File for a hearing tomorrow.” Emma, the truth will come out tomorrow. And when it does, you’ll pay for everything. Every last bit of it. I was going to show her what “revenge” really felt like.

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My wife and I are both liars. She lied to me ninety-nine times, saying she’d forget her first love, but she never did. And I only lied to her once—tricking her into signing the divorce papers. Today is the last day of our divorce waiting period. Three hours left on the countdown, I packed all my belongings and bought a plane ticket out of the country. Two hours left, I cut up all our photos together, leaving only myself in the albums. One hour remaining, I recorded one final video for her. “Clara, this is my tenth year loving you, and my first day leaving you.” Later, when she saw the recording, she lost her mind. “Why is the wedding contract so thick?” Clara frowned, flipping through page after page, yet never putting pen to paper. After all, she was a renowned CEO in this city—not someone easily deceived. And on the second-to-last page was the divorce agreement I’d secretly inserted. I kept my head down, feeling surprisingly calm. “There are a bunch of liability clauses. If you have time, take your time reading through it.” She wouldn’t have time. Today was the day her first love, Adrian Cross, returned to the country. Years ago, when Adrian got engaged, she married me in a fit of spite. Now that Adrian was divorced, she got drunk and, after sobering up, asked me to hold a proper wedding ceremony. It was all just to provoke Adrian into coming back. My marriage was nothing more than a game piece in their emotional chess match. Sure enough. The impatience on Clara’s face was visible to the naked eye. “I need to leave now to pick someone up. I don’t have time for all this.” A flicker of joy crossed her eyes. The impatience was for me. That flash of joy was reserved only for Adrian Cross. After hastily signing, Clara left me nothing but her retreating back. Three days ago, Clara suddenly brought up holding a proper wedding. We’d been married five years without a grand ceremony or any public announcement. Apart from both sets of parents and our closest friends, no one knew. Even in news coverage about her, she was always listed as “unmarried.” The occasional tabloid stories were all about her tragic romance with Adrian Cross. As for me, her actual secret husband, I had no right to have my name mentioned. Truth is, I’ve known all along. Clara had a first love, a man she loved desperately. Five years of marriage, and the woman showed me some tenderness, just not much. I tried to use love to make her get used to having me around. But in our home, Clara’s face never showed a single smile. Until that day when Clara—who never touched alcohol—got completely wasted, her face covered in nothing but smiles. I quietly asked around and, sure enough, Adrian Cross had gotten divorced. I took care of her until midnight, then unlocked her phone using Adrian’s birthday. Opening her photo album, the pictures nearly filled her storage. Nothing but Adrian. Not a single photo of me. The cover of her digital album was our wedding photo. Except she’d photoshopped my face out and replaced it with Adrian’s. I still remember how, on the day we registered our marriage, Clara refused to hold a wedding but insisted on taking wedding photos. Now I understood why. It was at that moment I knew. This five-year marriage was coming to an end. All that remained was the divorce cooling-off period. Countdown. One month. Coincidentally, the wedding Clara promised to hold with me also had one month left.

Countdown: 20 days. Clara came and went even more frequently than before. The wedding she’d promised seemed to have never existed. Occasionally I’d see her best friend’s social media posts, and in the corners of photos, there’d always be her walking arm-in-arm with a man. That face—I’d seen it in her phone’s photo album. This day, my business partner stopped me. “Bring the design drafts later. We’re going to sign a contract with the client.” “I heard this client is none other than CEO Clara’s rumored lover.” I nodded, a bit distracted. Though he was my partner, he didn’t know I knew Clara. Much less that Clara and I were secretly married. The client’s office was located in the building right below Clara’s company. I knew this was the new company Adrian had established after returning to the country, funded by investments from Clara’s corporation. Recently, financial news had been buzzing with speculation about their past romance. Entering the CEO’s office, unsurprisingly, I saw Clara. She was holding an elegantly wrapped box, handing it to the man in the executive chair. Adrian Cross. Clara’s expression froze the instant she saw me. Everyone present sensed something was off. Adrian looked at me with a hint of amusement. “And you are?” Clara fell silent, seemingly weighing how to explain. I smiled and introduced myself to everyone. “My name is Mason Young, the designer for this project. Ms. Parker and I are…” Clara and I spoke in unison: “College classmates.” As soon as the words left our mouths, my hand gripping the design drafts turned white. My fingertips left creases in the paper. This wasn’t the first time I’d covered for Clara, nor was it the first time Clara didn’t want to reveal my identity. This so-called secret marriage hid our relationship. But it made crystal clear the ending we were always destined for. The business discussion that followed was unpleasant. Clara resumed her role as a business elite, representing Adrian and being aggressive during negotiations. “Drop the price another ten percent.” Clara pushed our profit margin and bottom line to the absolute limit. My partner hesitated for a moment, then agreed through gritted teeth. “Fine. Ms. Parker, your reputation precedes you—you’ve guessed our bottom line perfectly.” Clara turned her head, too guilty to look at me. This woman was indeed as ruthless as the legends said. Only now, she was using it against me, her legitimate husband. Adrian hadn’t said a word the whole time, just looked at me with slight provocation. Then he reached out to unwrap the box on the table. “Everyone, have some cake.” Unexpectedly, Clara, who’d remained calm throughout the negotiation, anxiously grabbed it away. “Adrian, don’t touch it—you’re allergic to peanut butter. Let me check first.” The scene before me transformed into sharp blades in that moment. Cutting me to bloody pieces. Five years of marriage, and this woman had forgotten our anniversary, gotten my birthday wrong. Even every single thing I’d reminded her about, she’d carelessly tossed aside. But she always remembered that I was allergic to peanut butter. I’d secretly felt pleased—maybe all the other details revealed the truth that she didn’t love me. But this one detail showed she cared about me, even if just a little. Turns out… Even that tiny bit of care was fake.

The project progressed quickly. But Clara thought it was too slow. More than once, this woman emphasized to my partner: “This is Adrian’s first project since returning to the country. I don’t want it to fail.” I watched this performance with cold detachment. That day after the negotiation ended, back home, Clara hesitated on the sofa for a long time. Finally, she explained to me: “We’re still secretly married after all. We haven’t found the right time to explain.” “Later, we’ll go public.” “Right now, our priority should be handling this project well.” I nodded noncommittally. I didn’t bother reminding her that the priority should probably be our upcoming wedding. Even less would I remind her that when that day came, the divorce cooling-off period would be over. After all, in her eyes, Adrian was still the most important. During the project, Clara’s deliberate efforts to avoid having Adrian and me meet still caught my partner’s attention. He asked me somewhat nosily: “Did you and Ms. Parker used to have a thing?” I smiled. “How could that be possible?” My partner pursed his lips. “She’s looked at you with this incredibly guilty expression several times.” “Clearly the way a woman harboring guilt looks at her ex-boyfriend.” I paused, trying to recall carefully. It wasn’t that I hadn’t noticed—it’s just that everything from the past made it impossible for me to be sure about her expression. Countdown: 10 days. This day was supposed to be a regular project meeting. Adrian intentionally or unintentionally chatted with me for quite a while. I knew he’d probably guessed my relationship with Clara. But I still replied to him politely. After the meeting ended, Clara actually offered to drive me home. This was a first. “Your work capabilities really exceed my expectations.” Five years of marriage, and this was the first time this woman praised me. My hand paused while organizing documents, looking at her with some confusion. Clara hesitated for a long time before finally speaking: “Is it too late for the wedding ceremony?” I lowered my head, knowing she probably wanted to cancel the wedding. Most likely because of Adrian. “Then let’s just cancel it. There aren’t many days left anyway.” I looked up at her, not calling her out, not wanting to make things awkward for both of us. Clara looked stunned, as if she’d received an answer she couldn’t believe. She suddenly asked: “You don’t care?” Right—in the past, I probably would’ve lost control on the spot, demanding an answer. How many times had awkwardness occurred in our marriage because of my loss of control? Though all those losses of control stemmed from her. I shook my head. “What’s there to care about? It’s just a ceremony.” After a long silence, Clara spoke up again: “How about in a few days, I’ll go with you to relax at the old town nearby?” I looked down at the countdown on my phone—only ten days left in the divorce cooling-off period—and declined. The woman’s hands on the steering wheel stiffened, nearly running a red light. “How about the beach? Or that restaurant you’ve always wanted to try?” Clara suggested several more ways to relax, but I declined them one by one. By the time we got out of the car, the woman’s expression had changed from embarrassment and guilt to confusion and dissatisfaction. Seeing her expression, I took the initiative: “How about we go see the old house?” The old house was where Clara and I lived when we first got married. I really did miss it a bit. Clara froze for a long while, seemingly trying to figure out what I was thinking. Even after I got out of the car, she was still sitting there. Sitting in a daze for a long time.

Divorce cooling-off period countdown: 1 day. Perhaps we’d formed some kind of tacit understanding—Clara and I rarely appeared together at project meetings anymore. But sometimes, when Adrian wasn’t around, Clara would suddenly come downstairs. At project meetings, she wouldn’t speak, just occasionally glance at me. I didn’t really understand what this woman was thinking lately, and I didn’t want to. I started moving things out bit by bit, trying not to let her notice. But she still found out. This day, after a meeting, Clara proactively invited me to sit in her office for a while. As soon as I sat down, she asked: “You’ve been moving a lot of stuff out lately? And I haven’t seen you come home either.” I nodded, using an excuse I’d prepared long ago. “Yeah, going to stay at the old house for a while.” Clara’s expression showed hesitation: “About the wedding, I’ve thought about it for a long time, and we can still hold it…” I interrupted her: “There’s hardly any time left. No need.” Her expression showed surprise: “What do you mean, ‘hardly any time left’?” I hesitated, wondering whether to show her the divorce agreement we’d already signed. Adrian’s phone call came at just the right time, helping me out. I looked at the name on her phone and smiled: “You go ahead and take care of business. We’re not in a rush to talk.” Clara turned the door handle, and to express her apology, turned back to reaffirm a promise: “I’ll definitely come find you at the old house tomorrow.” The next day, she broke her promise again. I sat on the sofa in the old house, looking down at my phone. Countdown: 12 hours. A local news notification popped up on my news app. Adrian was making an appearance at a new project, with Clara standing behind him. Recalling the promise the woman made yesterday, I couldn’t help but laugh bitterly. If she knew these were the last twelve hours with me, would she still break her promise? Maybe not. Maybe she still would. But the answer no longer mattered. I spent several hours tidying up the house. In the empty old house, there really wasn’t much that belonged to me. It’s just that we got married here, and I was still nostalgic. I called my partner. Since I’d already told him beforehand, I still said goodbye to him. Then I dialed the lawyer: “The divorce agreement was notarized a month ago. I don’t need to go through additional procedures now, right?” The lawyer’s answer was concise: “No need.” After a pause, his congratulations came through: “Congratulations, Mr. Young.” I smiled and hung up. I just quietly waited until evening. Three hours on the countdown, I packed all my belongings and bought a ticket for the next day. Two hours left, I cut up all our photos together, leaving only myself in the albums. One hour remaining, I arranged the divorce agreement neatly and placed it on the table. I originally wanted to leave some words, but decided against it. I could only say silently in my heart: “This is the last time I’ll call you that.” “I loved you for ten years. Loving someone for ten years is very difficult, but I’ve finally chosen to give up.” “Congratulations to you, and congratulations to me.” Carrying my luggage, the instant the countdown ended, I placed my hand on the door handle. It was over. My marriage. Unexpectedly, the door opened from outside. Clara had sweat on her forehead, clearly having just exercised. She was panting, the smile on her face tinged with guilt: “I’m sorry, Mason. I just finished seeing someone off…” Her tone faltered, her gaze landing on my luggage and the plane ticket in my hand. “Where are you going?”

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On the day of my fourth anniversary with Ethan Rivers, I stumbled upon a post online. “My girlfriend’s family went bankrupt. I want to break up. Does that make me a scumbag?” The comments section was a mixed bag: “Bankrupt? You better run with a rocket strapped to your back!!” “Her bankruptcy isn’t your fault, but being stubborn about it would be.” “There are plenty of fish in the sea.” The original poster asked again: “How can I get her to break up with me first? I don’t want to be the bad guy. We’ve been together for four years after all.” More people chimed in with suggestions. “That’s easy. Whatever she cares about most, just show you don’t care about it at all.” “If she wants your company, work overtime. If she wants thoughtfulness, be careless. If she gets upset, call her dramatic.” Someone else added: “Just swap out that million-dollar gift for a fake. When she finds out, she’ll definitely confront you. Then you can use that as an excuse to break up.” “Sounds good.” …

I was still in a daze when voices outside the door pulled me back to reality. “Ethan really treats his girlfriend well. Buying a gift worth over a million without batting an eye.” “Of course. When Ethan was starting from scratch, Claire was the one supporting him from behind. Otherwise, how could he have become so successful in just three years?” “I heard Ethan’s planning to use this gift to propose. He’s really putting his heart into this for Claire.” A female voice interrupted—it was Melissa White. “Hey, get your facts straight. Ethan got to where he is today through his own hard work. What does it have to do with Claire?” “She’s just someone who stays home researching recipes and scrolling through videos. Ethan should be grateful he doesn’t mind her.” “Plus, her family went bankrupt. Who knows, maybe her whole family will have to depend on Ethan from now on. Don’t you think Ethan’s carrying too much?” Ethan said, “Melissa really gets me.” Everyone fell silent. My name is Claire Montgomery. My father’s Montgomery Real Estate declared bankruptcy two days ago. I didn’t hide this from Ethan. I couldn’t have even if I wanted to. At the time, he comforted me, saying it would be okay—I still had him. But I didn’t tell him that aside from real estate, my family had other businesses. The door opened. Seeing me sitting quietly inside, they looked somewhat embarrassed. “Claire, when did you get here?” “Not long ago.” Ethan scratched his head. “What we were saying just now… did you hear it?” I pretended not to know. “What? I just came out of the restroom. I didn’t hear you talking.” Hearing this, Melissa came over and linked arms with me, acting as intimate as if she hadn’t just been talking behind my back. “We were just discussing how good Ethan is to you.” “Is that so?” I glanced at Ethan. Though his guilty expression flashed by quickly, after being with him for over three years, I knew him too well. That was definitely the look he wore when he felt awkward. Melissa changed the subject. “Claire, I’m so jealous of you. Having such a wonderful boyfriend like Ethan.” “Really?” I said with a smile. “If you’re jealous, want me to give him to you?” As soon as those words left my mouth, all conversation in the private room came to an abrupt halt. Everyone looked at us. Melissa’s face turned bright red as she looked at Ethan. The entire room fell deathly silent. After a long moment, Melissa finally reacted. “Claire, what are you saying?” She thought changing the subject would be enough. He thought I misspoke. They thought I couldn’t bear to let Ethan go. Little did they know, the moment I saw that post, I had already figured out who posted it.

Ethan’s friends were trying to smooth things over. “Ethan, didn’t you prepare a gift for Claire? Hurry up and show it to us.” “Yeah, yeah, let this poor soul see what luxury looks like.” With everyone egging him on, Ethan took out the gift. Supposedly, this was the “Heart of Eternity” he spent a million dollars on, something that could only be given to the one he loved most. But that post said this had been swapped for a fake. Melissa was very naive, thinking she’d come up with a clever plan when in reality she was digging her own grave. Ethan was equally “adorable,” believing whatever people told him. My family’s real estate went bankrupt, but the keen eye I’d developed since childhood certainly hadn’t. Over the years, I’d spent close to nine figures on jewelry and accessories. I could tell at a glance whether something was real or fake. These two people thought they were so smart, but in reality, they were too clever for their own good. Everyone looked at me, waiting for my reaction. But I remained calm. Melissa couldn’t stand it and urged me to respond. “Claire, why aren’t you moved?” “Ethan treats you so well. Shouldn’t you have some kind of reaction?” I laughed. “Reaction?” “What kind of reaction should I have?” “Should I be thrilled over a fake?” The room fell silent once again. Ethan nearly lost his grip, almost dropping the item. “…Claire, this thing is fake?” “Could you be mistaken?” “Ethan spent over a million on this.” I looked at Ethan and asked him, “Really?” He swallowed hard, stammering, “Y-yes.” Then he said more firmly, “I still have the receipt. How could it be fake? Could you… have made a mistake?” I feigned surprise. “You got scammed. This is definitely fake.” Melissa took a deep breath. “Claire, how can you tell it’s fake?” How could I tell? With my eyes, obviously. “If you don’t believe me, you can get it appraised. If I’m wrong, I’ll pay each of you a million dollars.” Ethan’s buddies went wild. “A million each?” “Ethan, what are we waiting for? Let’s go.” I looked at Melissa and Ethan challengingly. “Are you two coming?” They were clearly panicking. The whole real-for-fake swap was their scheme. They thought that with Montgomery Real Estate bankrupt, I’d lost my confidence, so they planned to deal me a blow with this gift. They hoped I’d make a scene, hoped I’d be unreasonable, so Ethan could naturally break up with me. But I was destined to disappoint them. I was going to expose their tactics right in front of everyone. Seeing my confidence, both Ethan and Melissa grew flustered. One said he’d find time to ask the store later, the other said our celebration was more important—in short, neither dared to go. Looking at the excited eyes of Ethan’s friends, I sneered. Melissa seemed to dislike my calm demeanor and mocked me. “Claire, we all know your family went bankrupt.” “So you don’t need to save face by saying things like that.” “In the past, you could pull out a few million in a heartbeat, but now… aren’t you talking big?” Melissa was laughing. She looked at me and laughed. A mocking laugh. She deliberately said these things, deliberately making me lose face in front of everyone. She wanted to see me in a sorry state. She’d been secretly competing with me for years, always trying to outdo me. The first time I met Melissa, she was handing out flyers on the street. I came out of a sales office and happened to run into her.

Melissa was holding a stack of flyers for Montgomery’s new development, persistently trying to sell me on it. “Miss, please take a look. Montgomery’s properties are really good.” “I see you just came out of that sales office across the street, so you must be looking to buy property, right? Why not consider ours?” “Miss, can you give me a chance to introduce it to you?” That last sentence made me stop. Seeing how hard she was trying, I gave her three minutes to pitch the development to me. Honestly, she worked very hard, put in a lot of effort. I saw myself from years ago in her. Even though she got some of the data wrong, I still gave her a chance. “What did you study in college?” “Design.” “Have you worked with interior design?” “Yes.” “Starting tomorrow, report to the design department. Interested?” I still remember the light in her eyes. “Yes.” She didn’t even ask who I was. She just bounced into the sales hall. At the time, I thought she was just fresh out of college and didn’t understand how the world worked, so I didn’t think much of it. But she truly didn’t disappoint me. In just over a year, she was standing before me. “Miss Montgomery, thank you for the recommendation.” I smiled. “It’s also the result of your own hard work.” She smiled brightly. “I’m going to be a career woman in the future, not some vase who relies on family connections to get ahead.” That comment made me uncomfortable. I felt like she was hinting at me. But I had no proof. And I wasn’t about to become paranoid over a young woman’s comment. I told her to work hard, that Montgomery Real Estate wouldn’t mistreat hardworking people. She said okay. But three months later, she jumped ship to Ethan’s company. Apparently Ethan had poached her. Since they were both family companies, I didn’t think much of it. If Ethan could recruit talent, it meant his company was growing. I was actually happy about it. That way, he’d have more confidence when he came to my family in the future. Later, Melissa started following Ethan everywhere. Construction sites, clients, sales offices—she was everywhere he was. Melissa always branded herself as a career woman who’d reach the top through her own efforts, so she looked down on me as someone who just relied on the Montgomery family and Ethan. She told Ethan more than once that I was backed by a big tree while she climbed up step by step through real effort. The implication was that I was inferior to her. So as time went on, she became more and more presumptuous around me. She’d prepare late-night snacks for Ethan, do his laundry, and keep him company when he worked overtime. All things a girlfriend would do. She wasn’t unaware of my relationship with Ethan. But she did it anyway. And Ethan allowed it. Anyone with eyes could see they had something going on. But they deceived themselves, claiming they simply appreciated each other’s talents. That’s why Melissa could say “Ethan achieved everything on his own.” I laughed. The kind of laugh that comes when you’re at a loss for words. Ethan always thought he got to where he is through his own efforts. In reality, every time he met with clients, I’d visit them again afterward, and those clients would agree to work with him out of respect for me. I never told him this. I was truly blinded by love during that period. But I did it to boost his confidence, to give him a sense of achievement. I even told those clients not to reveal the truth to him. Looking back now, how ridiculous. Of course, all that support was based on him being my future husband. Now that he’s changed his heart because Montgomery Real Estate went bankrupt, I have no reason to keep supporting him. I’ll let Ethan and Melissa know that my family has been in business for three generations. Why should we lose to someone who started from nothing?

Melissa was waiting for my response. Everyone else was waiting for me to speak too. I said, a starving camel is still bigger than a horse… Melissa cut me off, saying I was delusional. I laughed at their ignorance. If they’d bothered to learn anything about me, they wouldn’t say such things, and they certainly wouldn’t… look down on me like this. In front of everyone, I said to Ethan, “Let’s break up!” “You’re not good enough for me!” This statement dropped the atmosphere to freezing. Melissa looked at me in disbelief. She couldn’t understand why I would take the initiative to say this. With Montgomery bankrupt, shouldn’t I be clinging tightly to Ethan? “Claire, what are you being high and mighty about?” Melissa was unhappy. Ignoring her, I said to Ethan again, “Let’s break up. You disgust me.” “I’m the one dumping you.” Ethan put down his fork, looking at me in complete confusion. Like Melissa, he assumed that in this situation, I’d cling to him desperately, maybe even ask him to help the Montgomery family. He never expected me to break up with him. That sense of superiority vanished instantly, leaving both Ethan and Melissa at a complete loss. People, once they get too smug about something, become powerless when they lose what they were smug about. I sent that post to both Ethan and Melissa separately. “You made that post, didn’t you, Ethan?” “And you were the one who suggested swapping the real for the fake, weren’t you, Melissa? Also…” I took a deep breath. “Melissa, what did you want to say to me on Ethan’s behalf?” “Break up?” “Sorry, but I’m not in the habit of being dumped. I’m usually the one who dumps others.” “And Ethan is especially unworthy.” But even now, Ethan was still lying. “Claire, this post doesn’t prove anything. I don’t admit to it.” I closed my eyes. Ethan, you’re so stupid. He said he didn’t admit to it. Did he think I had no recourse if he didn’t admit it? I clicked on the profile and sent him a private message. A notification instantly appeared on Ethan’s phone. “Does this prove it now?” “What, you dare to post but don’t dare to admit it?” As for Melissa, I did the same thing. Having their scheme exposed, both Melissa and Ethan’s faces turned bright red. Ethan was somewhat displeased. “Claire, you tricked me!” “You knew all along that thing was fake, didn’t you?” Actually, I didn’t need to see the post to know whether it was real or fake. After all, as I mentioned before, I’ve spent more money on jewelry than they’ve ever seen. I picked up the necklace from the box and tossed it in front of Melissa. “A fake. It’s yours now.” “And Ethan too. I’m giving him to you as well.” The two exchanged awkward glances. In that moment, Ethan seemed to be blaming Melissa. “Claire, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.” “I… I bought the real one. I just… just…” “Just heard that Montgomery Real Estate went bankrupt and decided I wasn’t worthy of the good stuff anymore?” “Ethan, let me say something arrogant. I was born into wealth. I’ve seen more jewelry than you’ve eaten meals. Whether or not I saw your post, I could tell at a glance if this thing was real or fake.” “I know you think that after Montgomery Real Estate went bankrupt, my family would become a burden to you, so you wanted to break up with me.” “Just like you said in that post—you didn’t want to be the bad guy, so you wanted me to take the initiative.” “Well, now I have. But I’m the one breaking up with you.” Ethan’s face went from white to red. Melissa suddenly stood up and pointed her finger at my nose. “Claire, you bitch, stop pretending.” “Bankrupt is bankrupt. Are you saying all this to play hard to get with Ethan?” I stepped forward and slapped Melissa hard across the face. “Bankrupt? Who told you that?”

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On the third day of my business trip, a new female parent suddenly joined my son’s parent chat group, which had been quiet for so long. I clicked on the voice message, and an unfamiliar, sweet female voice played. “Hello everyone, I’m the new language arts teacher at the school, and I’m also Dylan’s mom. Looking forward to getting to know you all~” My whole body stiffened. I clicked into the group members list and compared them repeatedly. My son’s name is Dylan. She says she’s Dylan’s mom. Then who am I? I immediately called my husband. “Did someone get added to Dylan’s parent group by mistake?” On the other end of the line, his voice paused for a moment, then he laughed casually as if nothing was wrong. “Oh, probably just a mix-up. There are so many kids at the school, it’s normal to have duplicate names. Did something happen?” I said with a smile that it was nothing, then hung up. That same night, I caught the first flight back and headed straight to my son’s school. The plane landed and I took a cab directly to my son’s elementary school. He’s seven years old this year, in first grade. It was 1 PM—the first class had just started. The security guard was very responsible. As soon as he learned I was a student’s parent, he called the homeroom teacher. A few minutes later, a girl wearing a white shirt and black skirt, looking like she’d just graduated, came running out quickly. Her looks were average, barely pretty enough to be called delicate, but she spoke very gently, in a soft voice. A woman’s intuition told me she was the person I was looking for. Sure enough, the moment she saw me, she panicked. Her face turned frighteningly pale, and her hands and feet trembled uncontrollably, as if she’d seen some terrible beast. “Th-this parent, is there something—something you need at the school?” She was so scared she could barely speak clearly. Yet she had the audacity to announce in my son’s parent group that she was his mother. “I saw the group message.” Right in front of the security guard, I laid it out directly. “You said you’re Dylan’s mom? I’m very curious about that.” The girl’s hands, hanging at her knees, clenched instantly. Then, with a panicked expression, she glanced at the security guard and forced out a smile to explain. “Oh, that… it’s because the school is about to have a parent-teacher conference, and Dylan’s dad said he and his wife are both very busy and don’t have time.” “To keep Dylan from being sad, he specially asked me to pretend.” “If this has caused you any trouble, I’m very sorry!” What a perfect explanation. Not only did it clear her of any relationship, but it also took a swipe at me—the one busy on a business trip and not at home. If I hadn’t carefully studied her social media, I might have actually believed her. Wednesday night at 8 PM, the Grand Theater. She posted a photo of a man’s back buying roses. Caption: [The man I love isn’t a prince—he’s a king.] The next day, I ended up in the hospital because of a pollen allergy. Friday afternoon at 6 PM, heavy rain in the city. She posted a selfie of herself sheltering under the school eaves. Caption: [When will my king come pick me up and take me home?] Three minutes later, Marcus sent me a message. “Honey, I have to work late tonight. I can’t pick up our son. Sorry to trouble you.” I was getting an IV drip at the hospital when I received the message, drowsy from the medication. By the time I saw the message, two hours had passed. No one picked up my son. He stood in the cold wind at the security booth for two full hours. That night, he spiked a fever of 102 degrees. On the way to the hospital, Marcus kept sighing. Every word blamed me for not checking my phone. I really thought I wasn’t a good mother. Touching my son’s flushed face, I said “I’m sorry” all night long. But it turned out the one who should apologize wasn’t me. My hand gripping my purse turned white from the pressure. My gaze slowly swept over the girl’s guilty, flustered face. It landed on the glaring blue on her earlobe, and I smiled knowingly. “Miss Rain’s earrings are beautiful. Did your boyfriend give them to you? They must have been expensive, right?” Last week on Valentine’s Day, I personally discovered Marcus’s shopping records. A pure gold bracelet and a pair of sapphire earrings. The bracelet cost five thousand dollars—worn on my wrist. The earrings cost thirty-eight thousand—given by him to the woman standing in front of me. When Rain heard my words, her face went pale instantly. Her lips trembled for a long time, but she couldn’t squeeze out a single word. Worthless. That word suddenly popped into my mind. Without looking at her again, I turned and left. On the way home, I called my father. He was Marcus’s direct superior, the man in control of the White Group. “Dad, I need a favor.” I changed my phone wallpaper from our family photo to one of just me and my son, my voice unnaturally calm. “The marketing director position we promised Marcus—cancel it. And find me the best divorce lawyer. I’m divorcing Marcus.” “Yes, he cheated on me with my son’s language arts teacher.”

My father moved quickly. In less than half an hour, the divorce lawyer added me and sent over 3GB of evidence and materials. I clicked through. Besides the social media posts of Rain’s that I could see, there was also a video account I’d never seen before. Eighty-three posts, every single one featuring Marcus’s shadow. I learned that last Christmas, when Marcus claimed he was working overtime and didn’t come home, he actually flew to Rain’s side to draw little stars with her in the snow. I learned that on my son’s seventh birthday, the gift Marcus gave him was picked out together with Rain. A teddy bear. In the video, Rain stuffed intimate photos of her and Marcus into the bear’s belly while laughing triumphantly. “A surprise for Marcus’s precious son.” “I can’t wait for the day it’s discovered.” Random viewers in the comments didn’t understand. [Is the host’s boyfriend from a divorced family?] Rain, using a kitten avatar, responded: [Yes, but I’ll soon replace his mom’s position.] Accompanied by a row of shy emojis. And the most recent one, uploaded the day I left on my business trip. The background was the storage room of our house. Rain leaned against the door with a selfie stick, smiling innocently at the camera. “Marcus’s kid is so naughty. I’m going to lock him in the dark room as punishment.” The background audio was my seven-year-old son Dylan’s terrified, pleading cries. My hand gripping the mouse suddenly tightened. I stood up with a jolt, remembering the night I landed in another province. I called home more than a dozen times. It wasn’t until the seventeenth call that someone finally answered. “Why did it take so long to answer? Where’s Dylan?” I was very anxious, afraid something had happened at home. On the other end, Marcus’s breathing clearly grew heavier. After a long pause, he stammered an explanation. “Dylan—he had a nightmare. It took me forever to get him back to sleep. Whatever it is, let’s talk about it tomorrow.” At the time, I didn’t think much of it and let Marcus brush me off. Looking back now, all the signs were there… My heart felt like it had a huge hole ripped through it, cold wind whistling through. It wasn’t that I was sad about Marcus cheating. It was that I never imagined he would let someone else hurt our child. When our son was born, just because his jaundice levels were a bit high and he needed phototherapy, Marcus was so nervous he canceled all his work and stayed by his side twenty-four hours a day. The coldness in my heart grew heavier. I sat back down and continued browsing the evidence of Marcus’s affair. Suddenly, Rain’s video account updated. In the frame, she wore the same clothes from when we met. Tear stains lingered at the corners of her eyes, looking pitiful. “Marcus’s ex-wife came to cause trouble again. She even said I’m not fit to be Dylan’s mom. I’m so scared.” She sniffled, casually revealing her chat interface with Marcus. “But thankfully Marcus spoils me. He promised to attend tomorrow’s parent-teacher conference with me. I’m finally going to be a child’s mother. So nervous.” She didn’t tell Marcus I came back? Looking at Marcus’s blue profile picture in the video—unchanged since our son was born—I smiled softly. Fine. Since it’s a parent-teacher conference, it wouldn’t be strange for me, the real mother, to attend, would it?

The next day, the school parent-teacher conference. I dressed inconspicuously and blended into the crowd, taking a seat in the most secluded corner of my son’s classroom. As soon as I sat down, Marcus sent me a message. [Summer, how’s work going? When are you coming home?] He was testing me. [Just arrived at the venue. Can’t talk now, the meeting’s about to start.] I replied dismissively. The chat box showed “typing…” then came a little cat emoji indicating acknowledgment. Identical to Rain’s profile picture. Feeling a bit disgusted, I put away my phone without responding further. Rain, as the new homeroom teacher this semester, walked onto the stage. She had dressed up specially today. A simple beige dress, hair braided to the side, face painted with delicate makeup. Different from yesterday’s timid cowardice, she now carried a deliberately performed maternal air. The more I looked, the more nauseating it became. “Good evening, parents. Today our parent-teacher conference theme is ‘Harmonious Family.’ Family has always been the most important safe haven for children. As parents, we must care about our children’s mental health and create a happy, harmonious family environment…” On the stage, she spoke eloquently to the parents, even telling several small stories, reminding parents of the importance of being responsible to their families. Yet ironically, the person destroying my family was her. Even more absurd, after saying all this, she suddenly tapped the podium and looked at the parents below with a shy expression. “Actually, today I have one more announcement. My son, Dylan, is also in this class.” Rain turned her head and waved toward the door. “Marcus, Dylan, come in quickly.” The classroom erupted in commotion. Marcus walked into the classroom slowly, holding our son’s hand. He had styled his hair, wore a black suit, his hair carefully slicked back, and wore the expensive watch I gave him on his wrist. But our son—his clothes were wrinkled, his hair wet and plastered to his forehead, looking like he had a fever. My heart clenched painfully. I almost couldn’t control my urge to rush forward and snatch my son back. But reason told me now wasn’t the time. I needed to wait for Rain to personally admit her intimate relationship with Marcus, to let her reputation be destroyed. “Hello everyone, I’m Rain’s husband, Marcus.” He tugged at our dazed son, his lips carrying the gentle smile I knew so well, but the words he spoke made my whole body turn cold. “Dylan, say hello to Mommy.” My son shook his head, hiding behind him, saying softly: “She’s not my mom.” Some parents below also questioned it. “I remember Dylan’s mom is Summer White, right? I saw her before school started. What’s going on?” “Yeah, I remember too. What’s this about?” Rain’s face turned deathly pale instantly, looking at Marcus as if seeking help. Sure enough, after only two seconds of hesitation, he calmly stepped onto the stage, cleared his throat, and spoke. “Everyone’s misunderstood.” “Summer White is not my son’s mother. She’s just…” He paused, his gaze falling tenderly on Rain. “She’s just the nanny I hired for my son. Miss Rain is my son’s real mother.” Nanny? I froze, the emotions in my eyes crystallizing into ice. Marcus and I had been together since college, weathering ten years of storms. When his startup failed and he fell into massive debt, I fell out with my father for his sake. When his frequent business dinners gave him stomach problems, I woke up at 5 AM every day to make him soup. When he said he loved children, on the operating table, I even considered saving the baby over myself. Now, in front of my son, in front of all his classmates’ parents, he said I was just a nanny. The coldness in my heart reversed to the extreme, transforming into a raging fire. The parents in the classroom seemed convinced, suddenly understanding. “So that’s it. Then Summer White is way out of line. Just a nanny, yet she lets the child call her mom.” Someone even advised Rain. “Miss Rain, you’re too soft. You must be more careful. Can’t let the nanny get too bold. If she leads the child astray, that’ll be a big problem.” “Exactly. These nannies are the worst.” Rain was overjoyed, smiling gently and virtuously. “Yes, yes, you’re right.” “I’ll be careful.” My son, eyes red, objected: “No, you’re wrong. She’s not my mom. My mom’s name is Summer White.” A parent clicked their tongue, showing disdain. “See? Already led astray, right? Can’t even recognize his own mother. When he grows up, he’ll be an ungrateful child. Miss Rain, you and Mr. Marcus really need to educate this child properly.” “Exactly. My daughter would never dare act like this. Miss Rain spoils the child too much.” “If you ask me, give him a timeout right now and discipline him. Once he’s calmed down, he’ll behave.” “That’s too strict, isn’t it? I say ground him in his room. When he learns to call her properly, then let him out.” The parents chimed in one after another, offering their suggestions. Rain’s eyes couldn’t hide her delight, though on the surface she still pretended to be reluctant, looking hesitantly at Marcus. “Marcus, what they’re saying makes sense. Maybe we should…” “Wait!” I stood up, pulled off my disguise mask, took out my phone that had been recording video the whole time, and spoke decisively. “Marcus, in front of everyone, I’ll ask you one more time. If Rain is Dylan’s mom, then who am I?” The smiles on Marcus and Rain’s faces froze.

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On the first of every month, my mom would give me my living allowance based on my performance from the previous month. “You can earn $20 for greeting your parents morning and night, but last month you only met the requirement for ten days, so you only get $200.” “The $300 bonus is also being completely deducted.” “Adding the base allowance of $150, your living expenses this month will only be $350.” “Write me an absence report later. Once you write one that’s acceptable, I’ll transfer the money to you.” My voice trembled with anxiety. “Mom, I was preparing for finals last month.” “I had to line up at the library every morning to get a seat. That’s why I couldn’t call you on time.” I begged with tears in my voice. “The plane ticket home for Christmas costs $600. $350 really isn’t enough.” “Mom, could you please—” She cut me off decisively. “The allowance system was specifically designed for you! It’s to help you break your habit of expecting handouts! Why can’t you understand my good intentions!” She hung up. When I was helpless and desperate, a thug appeared. He was willing to buy me a ticket if I went with him. ……

I lowered my head in shame. “But I… I don’t have money to pay you back.” The thug and his friends froze for a moment, looking at me like I was an idiot. “You don’t need to pay it back. Just have dinner with us, and I’ll give you the money for the ticket right away.” Have one meal with them and earn my ticket home. I was tempted. I desperately wanted to go home. Last week, Grandma had specially walked to the little store at the village entrance to call me. She said she’d already prepared the softest quilt for me. She’d also made my favorite apple pie. Grandma raised me herself. She was seventy-eight this year. Last year, she was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. Every time we saw each other could be our last. So I had to go home and spend Christmas with her. I squeezed the $350 in my pocket tightly. I made up my mind and nodded at the thug. They took me to a remote rental unit. The thug pointed at six bottles of beer on the table and slapped six hundred dollars in cash down. “Drink one bottle, get a hundred. Finish all six, and your ticket is yours.” I looked at the six hundred on the table, and Grandma’s face appeared before my eyes. She sat in the courtyard, reaching out her wrinkled hand to touch my face, saying with concern, “You’ve gotten so thin. Haven’t you been eating properly at school? I’ll make you something good.” Tears welled up again. I wiped them away and tried to encourage myself. Mom always taught me that as country folk, if we wanted something, we had to work twice as hard for it. As long as I finished these six bottles, I could see Grandma. This little hardship was nothing. I grabbed a bottle of beer, twisted off the cap, and poured it down my throat. I’d never drunk alcohol before. I choked and coughed violently. The thug’s friends whistled at me. Their eyes swept over my body lecherously as they spewed disgusting obscenities. Suddenly, I felt a strong sense of unease. I excused myself to go to the bathroom, shut the door, and immediately called my mom for help. The call finally connected, and I rushed to speak. “Mom, help—” Before I could finish, she cut me off angrily. “Leah, I’m so disappointed in you!” “You’re always scheming, always trying to be clever and break the rules. Deep down, you just want something for nothing!” “This time, I’m going to fix this rotten habit of yours!” She hung up furiously. I called back frantically, but no one answered. The bathroom door was kicked open. The thug stood in the doorway with a menacing expression and dragged me out.

He was incredibly strong. I couldn’t break free at all. I was shaking with fear. It was too late to run. I struggled and screamed, but no one paid attention to my pleas. They treated me like prey, forcing bottle after bottle of alcohol down my throat. My consciousness gradually faded. I sank into endless darkness and had a terrible dream. In the dream, I became a bloody lamb, surrounded by a group of people. Nowhere to run. I could only submit to the slaughter. When I woke up again, I was somehow on a train heading home. I blinked in confusion but couldn’t help feeling excited. I was finally on my way home. I would see Grandma soon. Strangely, when the conductor came by to check tickets, she verified each passenger’s ticket one by one. But when she passed by me, she walked right past as if she couldn’t see me at all. After getting off the train, I ran the whole way, wishing I could fly to Grandma’s side. When I reached the village entrance, I saw Grandma in the distance. She stood alone by the old millstone at the village entrance, leaning on her cane, motionless, gazing toward the direction I usually came from. A neighbor passing by couldn’t help but urge her, “Mrs. Miller, it’s so cold out here. You should go back inside.” But Grandma stubbornly shook her head, her face full of hopeful anticipation. She kept murmuring, “Just a little longer, just a little longer…” I took off running toward her, shouting, “Grandma, I’m back!” I opened my arms, wanting to hug her tight. But my hands passed right through her body without meeting any resistance. I stood frozen in place. So, I was already dead. To earn the money for my trip home, I had died in that rental unit. I had died during my first winter break after starting college. Grandma waited until the sun had completely set. Only then did the light in her eyes fade inch by inch. Filled with disappointment, she hunched her back and slowly walked home. The yellow dog following behind her, however, bounced around me excitedly, rubbing its head against my legs. I followed Grandma home. A brand-new car was parked at the gate of the courtyard. My parents were carrying bags of holiday goods into the house, their faces full of joy. But when had my family ever been able to afford a car? Mom had always told me that money was tight this year. She told me to be frugal at school and not keep asking her for money. My little brother, Danny, hopped out of the car and ran to Grandma’s side. “Grandma, where’s my sister? Why isn’t she home yet?” “I’m waiting for her to tell me stories.” Grandma patted Danny’s head. “The tickets were probably hard to get… She must have changed it to tomorrow.” When Mom heard this, she angrily slammed her suitcase on the ground. She exploded, “That little brat is definitely giving me attitude!” “Just because I deducted a tiny bit of her allowance, she won’t even come home!” “If she has the nerve, she can stay away forever. I’ll pretend I never had this daughter!” “She spends our hard-earned money every day, yet she can’t even manage to greet her parents on time. What an ungrateful wretch!” I stood in front of Mom, desperately waving my hands to explain. “Mom, that’s not it. I wasn’t giving you attitude. I wasn’t refusing to come home.” “I came back on time. You just can’t see me!” “I’m not ungrateful. I really worked so hard. I got first place in my major on the finals!” But no matter how much I shouted or waved, they couldn’t hear me. They couldn’t see me.

Grandma turned and went back inside. Like when I was little, I gently leaned against her back. I greedily breathed in the familiar scent of soap on her. I wished this moment could last just a little longer. Grandma put on her reading glasses and pulled an old box out from under the bed. She opened it carefully. Inside were three bundles wrapped in floral cloth. She opened the first one. Inside was a savings passbook. She smiled as she murmured, “This is the savings I’ve accumulated my whole life. A full fifty thousand dollars.” “I’m saving it for Leah. This is her wedding fund.” She had a terminal illness herself and couldn’t even bear to buy medicine, yet she wanted to leave all her savings to me. My eyes instantly welled up. So ghosts could cry too. She opened the second bundle. Inside were two gleaming gold bracelets. I’d never seen her wear them, yet they were polished to a bright shine. Grandma drifted into memories. “These were the jewelry my mother gave me when I got married.” “They’re the most valuable things I own. I could never bear to wear them.” “Ah, I really want to hold on just a little longer, live a couple more years, so I can put these on Leah myself on her wedding day.” I sobbed uncontrollably. “Grandma, I’m sorry. I can’t do it anymore!” Finally, she opened the third bundle. Inside was a neatly folded piece of paper. When unfolded, it was the deed to the old house. Grandma’s voice carried a hint of guilt. “Your brother is only five, but your parents already bought him a house in the city.” “Grandma doesn’t have the means to buy a big house in the city.” “But this old house can still keep out the wind and rain. If Leah ever faces hardship out there, she can come back to her own home.” “When you miss Grandma, just go to the cemetery on the east side of the village and talk to me. I’ll hear you.” I couldn’t hold back anymore. I rushed forward to tell her. I’m already dead. Take this money and get treatment! Don’t keep worrying about me. Don’t keep caring for me. Forget about me! Live your life! But she couldn’t hear my cries. I could only watch helplessly as she lovingly hid the wooden box back under the bed. At dinner, Mom had prepared a table full of food. Grandma sat at the table but barely touched anything. She kept glancing toward the door, full of hope and worry. Seeing Grandma like this, Dad hesitantly spoke up. “Maybe… we should give Leah a call.” Mom slammed her fork on the table, her face instantly darkening. “Call her? I see you’re all just spoiling her!” “What, I’m her mother, and I can’t discipline my own child?” “I’m telling you, nobody is calling her today. She needs to reflect properly. We can’t keep indulging her bad habits!” Grandma was already in poor health. Startled by Mom’s outburst, she began coughing violently. Dad quickly rubbed her back to help her catch her breath. Mom said stiffly to Grandma, “Mom, some things aren’t pleasant to hear, but I have to say them!” “Leah was raised by you to have no sense of rules.” “The check-in system I created for her allowance is for her own good.” “It’s to teach her workplace survival skills before she even enters the workforce!” “To make her understand that you have to give before you can receive. There are no free handouts in life!” “Mom, as her grandmother, all you do is spoil and indulge her. That’s not loving her—that’s harming her!” “When she enters society someday, she’s going to suffer for it!” Grandma was a gentle, kind-hearted country woman. She had never argued with anyone in her life, let alone her son and daughter-in-law. Her lips moved, wanting to push back. But she couldn’t find the words. For a long time, nothing came out. All she could do was stand there with reddened eyes, like a helpless child.

After a long while, Grandma finally gathered the courage to speak. “If you won’t contact Leah, I will!” “If you won’t let her come home, I will!” With that, she grabbed her cane and headed for the door. Seeing Grandma about to leave, Mom flew into a rage. She pointed at Grandma’s back and shouted, “See! This is exactly how you spoiled Leah!” “When she enters the workforce someday, she’ll just be another weakling who can’t handle the harsh reality!” “She’ll never amount to anything!” The angrier she got, the more she fumed. She stormed into the bedroom Grandma had specially cleaned up for me. My heart sank. I hurried after her. I watched as Mom yanked the new quilt off my bed and threw it hard on the floor. She even stomped on it viciously, cursing, “I’ll show her for not coming home! I’ll show her for giving me attitude! She doesn’t deserve this quilt!” Then her eyes landed on the wall covered with certificates. From elementary school through high school, they were lined up neatly on the wall. Those were the honors I’d worked for my whole life. They were Grandma’s pride. But Mom ripped them all down and tore them to shreds. “What good are these stupid certificates! Can they put food on the table?” “Can they teach her manners?” “No gratitude, no effort! Even with all these certificates, she’s still an ungrateful wretch! A waste!” I stared at the torn scraps all over the floor, shouting desperately at Mom. “Mom, I wasn’t spoiled. I was always well-behaved.” “I could carry two buckets of water to help Grandma water the fields when I was five.” “I can cook, do laundry, take care of Grandma when she’s sick.” “I know how hard you and Dad work for money. I really never complained.” “Grandma and I lived on welfare. I’ve been careful with money since I was little. I never wasted a single cent.” I pointed at my closet, wanting her to open it and look. Every piece of clothing inside was patched. If she didn’t believe me, she could ask the elders in the village or any of my teachers. They all said I was responsible, filial, hardworking, and diligent. Grandma always told me that you loved me—you were just too busy with work to spend time with me. So I always tried my best. I studied hard, behaved well, because I was afraid of being a burden to you, afraid you wouldn’t like me. Just then, there was a commotion of footsteps at the door. Dad’s face immediately relaxed into a smile. He said to Mom, “See? The kid came to apologize. She’s right at the door.” As soon as Mom heard this, she straightened her back. The door was pushed open. The village chief stumbled in. When Mom saw it was the village chief, she assumed I’d sent him to plead on my behalf. She crossed her arms, her face cold. “What are you doing here?” “Let me tell you, it doesn’t matter who comes to plead today. She made a mistake, and she has to face the consequences.” “Tell her she has to write me a five-thousand-word self-criticism and read it aloud at the village entrance! Otherwise, she’s not setting foot in this house.” The village chief, interrupted by Mom, was sweating profusely. Grandma’s eyes darted anxiously behind him. “Where’s Leah? Where is she?” The village chief looked at my stubborn mother, then gritted his teeth and stomped his foot. He cried out in anguish, “Something terrible has happened!” “You foolish parents—how could you push your child to this point!”

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Every time my husband Ethan was about to leave the house, I would casually remind him: “Remember to take the trash out.” But he always forgot. Later, I discovered he was always helping our female neighbor Sophie take out her trash. I stood at the door watching him enthusiastically help the female neighbor. I said nothing, picked up the sour-smelling garbage bag myself, and went downstairs. From that day on, I stopped reminding him of anything. Some people are just like garbage—it was time for me to throw him away. …… Ethan came home at two in the morning. I wasn’t asleep yet. I was sitting on the living room carpet, sorting through our household expense records from the past few years. When I heard the door open, I didn’t look up. A faint scent of perfume mixed with cigarette smoke and alcohol drifted over. “Honey, still up?” Ethan’s voice carried a guilty, ingratiating tone. He was holding an elegant insulated container, crouching in front of me. “I passed by ‘The Ocean Grill’ on my way back and specially waited in line to buy you some seafood. It’s still hot.” He spoke while changing his shoes, looking at me with a smug expression. I was also sitting on the sofa reading a book. Hearing this, I looked up, my gaze falling on that container of soup. The Ocean Grill’s seafood was famous—generous portions, plump shrimp and crab. But because of those generous portions, even with the lid on, that rich, briny sweetness still seeped through the gaps. My stomach churned, and I frowned almost imperceptibly. “Thanks, just leave it there.” I said flatly. Ethan seemed somewhat dissatisfied with my coldness. He walked over, placed the seafood on the table, and tried to rest his hand on my shoulder, but I avoided it by pretending to turn a page. His hand froze in mid-air, then he awkwardly withdrew it, instead undoing his cufflinks and beginning to remove his dress shirt. “Oh, I need to wear this shirt to a meeting tomorrow. It’s a bit wrinkled—can you iron it for me? Remember to hand wash it first before ironing. This fabric is delicate; it can’t go in the machine.” That matter-of-fact tone, as if I were some high-end housekeeper he’d hired. I glanced at the shirt. It was a gift I’d given him for our wedding anniversary—Italian custom-made silk blend. It was indeed delicate. Before, every piece of clothing like this, I would personally hand wash in cold water, carefully smooth out every wrinkle with a steam iron, terrified of damaging a single thread. Looking at him, I suddenly found it a bit funny. “Ethan,” I pointed at the container of seafood, “did you forget? I’m severely allergic to seafood.” Ethan’s hands froze mid-motion as he was loosening his tie. A flash of shock crossed his face, followed by embarrassment and guilt. “Huh? Really? I thought you used to love eating fish…” “That was freshwater fish.” I set down the bills. “Last time I accidentally ate seafood, I was in the ER on an IV drip for two days. You’re the one who handled the hospital admission.” That happened just last year. At the time, he was playing on his phone while complaining about how hard the hospital chairs were, saying how careless I was, making him have to take time off work to stay with me. Looking back now, he really hadn’t taken it to heart. Ethan’s face alternated between red and white, his eyes shifting. “Well… maybe I got confused. I just wanted to nourish your health. Good intentions gone wrong. I’ll buy you something else next time.” As he spoke, he tried to take the seafood away, but I had already stood up. I picked up that expensive container of seafood, walked to the kitchen, and threw it—packaging and all—straight into the trash. A dull thud. Ethan’s expression changed completely. “Emma, what’s that supposed to mean? You’re just throwing away seafood worth hundreds of dollars? I haven’t even had dinner yet!” “I don’t want allergens in the house. Bad luck.” I turned on the faucet to wash my hands, my tone as calm as if I were commenting on the nice weather. Ethan was speechless. He took a deep breath, seemingly suppressing his anger, and pointed at the shirt. “Fine, the seafood thing was my fault. But can you at least take care of the shirt first? I’m hungry—I’m going to make some pasta.” He turned and headed to the kitchen, skillfully opening cabinets to find noodles. I dried my hands, picked up the silk shirt, and walked into the laundry room. Instead of filling a basin with warm water like I usually did, I opened the washing machine door directly and tossed the balled-up shirt inside. I poured in regular detergent, selected “Heavy Duty” mode, and started it. As the drum rumbled into motion, I knew that delicate shirt was done for. When Ethan came out with his pasta, he heard the spin cycle. He froze for a moment, then rushed to the laundry room. Seeing the high-speed spinning drum, his eyes nearly popped out of his head. “Emma! Have you lost your mind? That shirt cost over three thousand dollars! Didn’t I tell you to hand wash it?” He frantically stopped the machine and yanked out the shirt—now wrinkled like a dried pickle, the collar already misshapen. His face contorted with heartache. I leaned against the doorframe, watching his frantic display, feeling absolutely nothing. “I used to hand wash because I loved you. Because I thought you were worth it.” I met his furious gaze, a mocking curve forming at the corner of my lips. “Now? The washing machine works fine too. It’s going to get wrinkled on your body anyway—why waste the time?” Ethan stared at me in disbelief, as if seeing me for the first time. “You weren’t like this before. Emma, what’s gotten into you lately? Just because I helped Sophie take out the trash a few times, you have to keep making a scene?” Oh, so he knew everything. He knew exactly what was bothering me, yet he chose to play dumb and even turn it around, accusing me of “making a scene.” I looked at the wet wad of ruined fabric in his hands and said softly: “Ethan, when clothes get ruined, you can buy new ones. But some things, once broken, can never be fixed.”

Ever since the seafood incident, Ethan hadn’t spoken a proper word to me in two days. But his Instagram was plenty active. He’d blocked me but forgot to block my second account. Yesterday there was a photo of him in the hallway fixing a shoe cabinet, with the caption: Neighbors should help each other out. In the corner of the photo, a pair of feet in pink bunny slippers peeked into frame. Those were Sophie’s. Scrolling down, I found Sophie’s Instagram. Same angle, showing Ethan’s back as he crouched on the ground, screwdriver in hand, a cute Band-Aid on the back of his hand. Caption: The world’s best neighbor. He hurt his hand helping me fix my cabinet. So touched~ The two of them, playing off each other like they were flirting. I casually liked the post. Then I closed my phone and tossed the last shrimp on the dining table into the trash. Ethan sat across from me, his expression sour. “Emma, when did you become so selfish? You used to always peel shrimp for me too.” I sipped my tea leisurely, saying nothing, just watching him calmly. He stopped what he was doing and tossed a half-peeled shrimp onto his plate, frowning at me. “Why aren’t you answering? You won’t even peel shrimp for me? Before, you would’ve already peeled a whole bowl for me by now.” Before? Yes, before. Ethan used to say he was clumsy, that peeling shrimp always pricked his fingers. He said his hands were precious because he was a designer—they couldn’t get hurt. So every time we had shrimp, I would peel them one by one and feed them to him. Watching him eat happily, I even felt it was a kind of happiness. Even later, when my fingers became red, swollen, and peeling from handling spicy peppers, he’d only casually say “don’t peel them next time”—and then wait for me to serve him again the next time anyway. “Ethan,” I set down my teacup, my gaze falling on his slender, pale hands, “your hands really are precious.” He thought I was complimenting him and gave a smug hum. “Of course. These hands are meant for drafting designs.” “Yes, drafting hands.” I let out a cold laugh. “The other night in the hallway, when you were fixing Sophie’s shoe cabinet—how come you didn’t mention your precious hands then?” “That… Sophie’s cabinet was broken. She’s just a girl living alone, and she couldn’t move it herself. I happened to run into her—I couldn’t just stand by and do nothing, right? I was just helping out.” “Just helping out? Looks to me like you brought a fully stocked toolbox.” I scoffed. “Ethan, you used to make me climb a ladder to change the light bulbs in our house because you said you had a fear of heights. What happened—did your fear of heights get cured when it came to fixing the neighbor’s cabinet? Or do your hands only count as ‘precious’ when you’re helping other people, while at home you just wait to be served?” Ethan’s face flushed red. “Can you stop being so passive-aggressive? What’s wrong with neighbors helping each other? Look at yourself right now—where’s any trace of the sweet, caring wife you used to be?” “Sweet and caring?” I set down my cup. “Ethan, my sweetness was for my husband. Not for an asshole. And since your hands are so skilled now, don’t expect me to call a repairman when things break around here anymore. Save some money—you can fix them yourself.” With that, I got up and started cleaning the kitchen. Ethan sat there, watching my efficient movements, probably realizing for the first time that the Emma who used to smile and agree to everything he said had truly changed. Changed for the better. After all, everyone has their moment of seeing reality for what it is.

Of course, Ethan wasn’t going to reflect on himself over something this small. In his mind, I was just throwing a tantrum and would get over it in a few days. He continued doing whatever he wanted. Every morning before leaving, he would make a point of going to the passenger side to adjust the position of the neck pillow. I never understood why. Until one day, I found a lipstick wedged in the gap of the passenger seat—one that didn’t belong to me. A bold, flashy shade with a sickeningly sweet peach scent. Nothing like my usual matte red. That evening when Ethan came home, I placed the lipstick on the coffee table. “Whose is this?” Ethan glanced at it, and for a split second, panic flickered in his eyes before he quickly composed himself. “Oh, probably Sophie’s. I ran into her this morning on my way out—she was heading to work and couldn’t get a cab in time, so I gave her a ride since it was on the way.” “On the way?” I raised an eyebrow. Sophie’s office was on the east side of the city. Ethan’s was on the west. That “on the way” could probably circle the globe. “Yeah, on the way,” Ethan said impatiently. “Can you stop being so paranoid? She’s a young woman working hard out here on her own. What’s wrong with giving her a ride?” “Is that so?” I didn’t ask any more questions. I just opened my phone and pulled up Sophie’s social media. Posted ten minutes ago. The photo was taken from the passenger seat of Ethan’s car, capturing his hands on the steering wheel and the perfectly positioned neck pillow. Caption: The best chauffeur service ever—not only is he a great driver, but he even prepared a lumbar pillow for me. Love it~ No more squeezing onto the subway after work! Ethan had liked the post. That passenger seat used to be mine. Ethan once said the passenger seat was reserved for his wife—everyone else had to sit in the back. Now it seemed “everyone else” didn’t include Sophie. I casually liked the post too, then shoved the phone screen in Ethan’s face. “Personal chauffeur? Ethan, is this what you call ‘on the way’? You’re driving her to and from work—did you two start working at the same company?” Ethan’s expression shifted. He reached to grab the phone. “She’s just joking! Young people talk like that these days—can you stop making a big deal out of everything?” I dodged him, letting out a cold laugh. “Fine. Since it’s just a joke, I don’t mind making one too.” Right in front of him, I called the real estate agent. “Hi, This is Emma. Yes, the downtown apartment—I want to list it for sale. As soon as possible. Price is negotiable.” That apartment was something I bought outright before we got married. Even though Ethan had been living here since we got married, acting like the man of the house, the deed only had one name on it. Mine. Ethan completely panicked. “Emma, have you lost your mind?! This place is perfectly fine—why would you sell it? Where are we supposed to live?” I hung up the phone and looked at his frantic face, feeling immensely satisfied. “It’s my apartment. I can sell it whenever I want. As for where you’ll live…” I looked him up and down, a mocking smile curving my lips. “Since you love being someone’s personal chauffeur so much, why don’t you ask your ‘passenger’ if she’s willing to take you in?” “You’re absolutely impossible!” Ethan stormed out, slamming the door behind him. Off to find Sophie again, I assumed. I didn’t care. The air in this apartment had been polluted long ago.

Over the next few days, Ethan gave me the silent treatment. He thought this would wear me down, make me apologize first like I always used to. Too bad he miscalculated. Not only did I not back down, I actually started living better than before. Without that man-child dragging me down, the air even felt fresher. Until my birthday. As usual, I invited a few girlfriends over for dinner. We were in the middle of chatting and laughing when the doorbell rang. Ethan went to answer it. Standing outside was Sophie, wearing a silk slip nightgown. In her hands was a plate of sloppily cut fruit. “Ethan, I heard how lively it is over here. It’s so lonely being by myself—mind if I crash and grab a bite?” Her voice was soft and syrupy, her eyes locked on Ethan, completely ignoring the room full of women. The nightgown wasn’t exactly revealing, but in a room full of guests, it was wildly inappropriate and dripping with innuendo. Ethan clearly hadn’t expected her to show up, but one glance at her outfit made his Adam’s apple bob. He stepped aside to let her in. “Of course, the more the merrier.” My friends’ expressions instantly became priceless. Ethan rushed to explain: “Let me introduce everyone—this is our neighbor Sophie. She’s here to celebrate Emma’s birthday too.” Goosebumps crawled across my skin. Sophie acted like she didn’t notice the side-eyes, squeezing in right next to Ethan and pushing the fruit plate toward him. “Ethan, I cut this just for you. Try it—is it sweet?” Ethan glanced awkwardly at me. Seeing I said nothing, he picked up a piece of apple and ate it. “Mm, pretty sweet.” “Hehe, I knew you’d like it.” Sophie giggled, her body casually leaning against his. “Ugh, the AC in here is so cold. Ethan, could you grab me a blanket?” Without a second thought, Ethan got up, went to the bedroom, and came back with my favorite cashmere throw to drape over her shoulders. At that moment, I heard one of my friends mutter under her breath: “What a pair of dogs.” My hand paused mid-slice on the cake, then steadied. “Come on, let’s eat cake.” I handed the first slice to my friend, completely ignoring the little love show happening beside me. Just then, Sophie’s phone rang. She answered it, and her face went white. She started whimpering: “What?! Really? That’s so scary! Ethan, I think the power went out at my place—it’s pitch black and there are weird noises… I’m so scared!” She hung up, eyes glistening with tears as she looked at Ethan, clutching his sleeve. “Ethan, can you come check it out for me? I really can’t go back there alone…” Ethan immediately stood up, full of concern. “Don’t worry, don’t worry. I’ll go take a look. Probably just a blown fuse—no big deal.” Then he turned to me, as if it were the most natural thing in the world: “Emma, Sophie’s got an electrical issue. I’m going to help her fix it. I’ll be right back. You guys go ahead and eat—don’t wait for me.” I looked at him, still holding the cake knife. Red frosting clung to the blade. It looked like blood. “Ethan, today is my birthday.” I reminded him calmly. “I know, I know, but I can’t just leave her in trouble, right? Neighbors should help each other out! I’ll be quick—be good, okay?” He didn’t even wait for my response. With his arm around Sophie’s shoulders, he headed for the door. Sophie nestled against him and glanced back at me. That look in her eyes was full of challenge and the smugness of a victor. Slam. The door shut. The room fell into dead silence. One of my friends slammed her fork on the table. “Emma! You’re just going to take this?! She’s a total homewrecker! And your husband is blind!” I set down the knife and wiped the frosting off my hands with a napkin. “What am I supposed to do? You can’t stop a dog from eating shit.” I walked to the door, locked it, and latched the security chain. “Let’s eat. Don’t let some nobody ruin the mood.” That night, Ethan didn’t come home. My phone was full of messages from him. Honey, the wiring here is pretty complicated. Still working on it. Sophie was really shaken up. She won’t stop crying. I need to calm her down. I probably won’t make it back tonight. Get some sleep. … I didn’t reply to a single one. I tossed my phone aside, and my friends and I drank until dawn.

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My words have always come true since birth. When I first learned to talk, I babbled that Dad was going to get rich, and that very night, he won a hundred million in the lottery. When I was six, I said the old man in town whose grandson went missing would have him returned safely. The next day, someone found the dirty child at the community entrance. At eighteen, I commented online that the bankrupt Sullivan Group would turn things around against all odds. Sure enough, half a month later, Sullivan Group’s stock soared back to its peak! And so, with just my words, I was treated as an honored guest by the Foster Group. But the moment I stepped into the Foster family’s villa, someone grabbed my collar from behind and slammed me hard onto the ground. “You homewrecker! Isn’t it enough that you’ve been clinging to Riley outside? You actually chased her all the way here? Desperate to climb your way up, aren’t you? I think you’re tired of living!” Falsely accused out of nowhere, I tried desperately to explain, but these people were convinced I was a social climber and beat me with fists and kicks. As my watch shattered against the stone steps with a crisp crack, I tasted the faint metallic tang of blood between my lips and teeth. No one knew that besides my words coming true, I also carried a curse–whoever made me bleed would be plagued with terrible luck. It seemed the Foster family was headed for complete ruin.

“Mr. Carter, please have a seat here. Damien is already on his way back from the company.” “He’ll be here soon.” The butler treated me with respect, smiling obsequiously. I waved my hand. “No need to be so formal.” My words have always come true since birth. Damien had been half-skeptical at first. Two years ago, he tested my ability. I said one sentence–that their stock would rise. That very evening, the stock skyrocketed. The Foster family, which had been teetering on the edge of collapse, managed to hang on for two more years thanks to that one sentence. From then on, Damien knew I was the person he’d been searching for. To get me to speak those golden words again, Damien pulled out all the stops. He even offered to add me to the Foster family trust’s beneficiary list, letting me enjoy the family’s privileges for life. Only then did I reluctantly agree. After the butler settled me in, she went to the kitchen to prepare some fruit. The other household staff treated me with utmost respect, their eyes full of reverence. I sat on the sofa, quietly waiting for Damien to return, when a stabbing pain shot through my temple. I frowned, turning just as a heavy decorative sculpture crashed into my head, instantly leaving it bloody. I clutched my forehead, seeing through the blood the twisted face of Kyle Anderson. The moment they saw me injured, the two household staff beside me panicked. “Mr. Carter is an honored guest invited by Damien Foster himself. Who are you?” Kyle ground his teeth. “Let’s see who dares touch me. I’m Riley Foster’s fiancé!” “You bastard, how dare you seduce Riley! You even followed her home!” His friends all looked at me with contempt. “Look at this pathetic loser. How could he even compare to Kyle?” “Anyone with working eyes knows who to choose.” “Sneaky bastard. We’re going to teach you a good lesson today.” They tore me down with every word. I frowned, my voice cold. “I’m not here to latch onto anyone. Stop spouting nonsense.” I turned to leave, but Kyle’s heavy fist slammed into my face. “Shameless trash! Don’t think I haven’t noticed you hovering around Riley all the time.” “You probably spend every day trying to get her attention, don’t you?” He lunged forward, his index finger nearly poking my face, his voice vicious. I suddenly remembered Riley Foster. To get me to speak those golden words for the Foster family, she came to see me every day, all smiles and sweet concern. I never expected Kyle Anderson to be her fiancé. The servants around me quickly reacted, surrounding me protectively and carefully trying to stop my bleeding. My voice was ice-cold. “Damien invited me here to help. I have nothing to do with your fiancée.” One of the staff members carefully spoke up for me. “Mr. Carter has the ability to make his words come true.” At those words, Kyle doubled over with laughter, laughing so hard tears came out. “You say your words come true? Then I guess I’m God himself.” “You’ve said so much–I don’t see anything coming true.” I sighed inwardly. Though I had the ability to make my words come true, it only worked effectively once a year. I wouldn’t use this ability lightly. Kyle sneered, hands in his pockets. “Do I look like some idiot who’d believe that?” “You dare to be a homewrecker with me, Kyle Anderson? I’ll make you pay.” His eyes fixed on me like a poisonous snake. The people around him stepped forward, looking at me mockingly. He was coming for me. I stepped back, my voice hoarse. “If you touch me, the Foster family won’t let you get away with this.” Kyle was the first to rush forward, grabbing my hair and slamming my head hard against the ground. “Little bastard, you really dare to talk.” “Brothers, get him! Teach this homewrecker a good lesson!”

I frowned as blood dripped from my forehead. I was truly angry now, looking at Kyle with cold eyes. “I’m a guest of the Foster family. What are you?” “Leave now, and I can pretend nothing happened.” Though he’d have some bad luck for a while. Seeing me completely dismiss him, Kyle finally lost control. His eyes bloodshot, he lunged at me, straddling me and beating me viciously. I was pinned to the ground with no strength to fight back. But as he came close, I opened my mouth and bit down hard on his ear. Kyle clutched his ear, glaring at me. His friends rushed over, pinning me firmly to the ground, each one punching me. My scalp burned with tearing pain as they yanked me backward, making me fall face-up onto the gravel path. I groaned. In front of me, pairs of men’s dress shoes formed an impenetrable circle. When a shoe tip kicked my ribs, I heard the fine crackling of bone. The first punch left my right ear ringing. “This is what you get for being a homewrecker! Shameless!” The second blow left my left cheek burning and swollen. “Trash! I hate people like you who mess with other people’s relationships! Disgusting!” By the third kick, I could taste rust in my mouth. “People like you don’t deserve to live in this world.” They took turns grabbing my collar and yanking it back, the fabric mixing with blood and sticking to my swollen cheek. Fists deliberately smashed into my eye corners, warm blood droplets rolling into my collar. They struck viciously. The two household staff nearby were terrified. I looked at them. “Call Damien now!” I gasped for breath, coldly warning Kyle. “Let me go right now, or I swear I’ll make you pay.” Kyle sneered, kicking me again and again. “You really think I don’t know anything?” “You’re just an ordinary person! Your words coming true? Bullshit!” “You just wanted to seduce Riley when I wasn’t paying attention. I’ve already seen through your plan.” He kicked my ribs with his shoe tip. As I curled up, my forehead hit the concrete edge, blood immediately covering my right eye. Finally, he grabbed the back of my neck and slammed it against the coffee table edge. The instant ceramic shards cut open my chin, blood dripped onto the floor. He sneered and kicked me hard in the abdomen. “Bastard!” I clutched my stomach, curling into a ball. “What are you doing?!” The butler finally emerged from the kitchen with a fruit platter. Seeing my wretched state, her pupils constricted sharply. She hurried over to help me up. “Mr. Carter is Damien’s honored guest! Damien specifically instructed us to treat him well!” “Who dared lay hands on Mr. Carter?” She turned around, meeting Kyle’s eyes. Kyle chuckled. “It was me.” “Kyle, what are you doing here?” Kyle looked at her, his voice cold. “What honored guest? He’s just an ordinary person.” “Let me tell you, I’m going to marry Riley Foster in the future.” The butler glanced at Kyle, then at me. Finally, she reluctantly let go of my hand. I couldn’t stand at all and fell back onto the ground. Kyle sneered, looking smug. “What ability to make words come true? I think it’s all a scam!” “Tell me, do his words really come true or not?” The butler’s eyes darted around before she walked over to Kyle. “Who knows if these supernatural abilities are real or fake?” My heart seized.

Kyle was very pleased with the butler’s flattery. I was bleeding all over, with no strength left to resist. I could barely breathe, let alone speak. Kyle grabbed my chin, his gaze falling on the watch on my wrist. Before I could cover the watch, he reached out and yanked it off my wrist. “Give it back!” My voice was shrill, completely ignoring the bloody marks torn on my wrist. This watch was the only thing my late mother left me. I clenched my back teeth. “Give it back!” I tried to get up and snatch the watch back. But the two people holding me beat me again. Kyle waved the watch in front of me. “This watch is so important to you?” “I can give it back. How about you kneel before me and beg?” “If I’m happy, I’ll return it.” My eyes turned blood-red, fists clenched tight, looking at him with pure hatred. Kyle looked indifferent, holding the watch with disgust. “Looks like you don’t care about this watch that much.” “In that case…” He held up the watch, about to throw it away. I released my broken, bleeding lips. “I’ll kneel!” After those words, all my strength seemed drained. He bent down, patting my face. “Didn’t expect you to be so sensible.” “If you’re going to kneel, do it quickly. Time waits for no one.” I looked at the watch in his hand, closed my eyes, and knelt down. Once I got my watch back, I would make him pay. I knelt on the ground, staring at him. “Give it back.” Kyle looked extremely smug. “You think I’ll give it back just because you ask?” “Let me tell you, this is what you get for trying to climb above your station.” With that, he threw the watch on the ground and immediately stomped on it hard. I watched helplessly as the watch face shattered into pieces, powerless to stop it. My voice was hoarse. “I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you!” Getting up from the ground, I rushed forward and grabbed his neck. “Crazy! He’s crazy!” Soon, I was dragged away by his people. I was filled with hatred, grinding my teeth. “Kyle Anderson, I won’t let you get away with this.” As soon as I spoke, they all burst into laughter. Kyle laughed so hard he nearly doubled over. “This is hilarious! Did I hear that right? You, an ordinary person, won’t let me get away with it?” “Oh, I’m so scared. I’d love to see how you won’t let me get away with it.” “Looks like you haven’t learned your lesson. In that case, teach him another good lesson.” A group of people rushed at me again. This time, I didn’t resist at all, just quietly curled up on the ground, letting their fists rain down on me. “Hahaha, look at him! Is he beaten stupid? He doesn’t even know how to fight back!” Kyle laughed until tears came out. I looked at the blood pooling on the ground, a smile curving my lips.

Seeing me smile, Kyle flew into a rage, roaring, “You bastard, what are you smiling at?” “Believe it or not, I’ll make sure you never smile again in your life!” My voice was soft, carrying a hint of chill, as I looked at him. “You’re about to be disfigured.” Hearing my words, Kyle’s eyes widened. His face turned darker than the bottom of a pot. “You bastard, how dare you curse me!” “I won’t let you get away with this.” He rolled up his sleeves, walking toward me. But in the next second, he fell to the ground. “Ah!” He screamed, hand clutching his face. “Kyle, your face!” His friends couldn’t help but speak up. Kyle pulled out his phone to look, screaming even louder. He covered the bleeding side of his face, glaring at me. My gaze fell on the broken glass that suddenly appeared on the ground, lips curving slightly. Kyle was furious. He rushed at me. “You crow’s mouth! Who told you to curse me!” “Since you have such a foul mouth, I’ll make sure you can never speak again.” My nails dug into my palms, voice hoarse. “You wouldn’t dare!” He raised an eyebrow. “Why wouldn’t I dare? I’m going to marry Riley in the future. You’re a powerless nobody. Why wouldn’t I dare touch you!” He signaled to the people around him. I was immediately restrained. He pulled a switchblade from his bag, walking toward me step by step. “Today, I’ll teach you a lesson about running that mouth of yours.” “Even if you stab through my throat, I’ll recover.” As those words left my mouth, a golden light flashed in my pupils. But it was too fast–no one noticed. He moved quickly, the blade aiming straight for my throat. The pain made my whole body struggle, but I couldn’t make a sound. Seeing me like this, Kyle was extremely pleased. “This is what trash deserves.” Tears streamed down my cheeks uncontrollably. The pain in my throat made cold sweat pour from my body. My vision darkened. I felt like I couldn’t hold on much longer. The butler ran over to Kyle. “This is exactly how to deal with shameless people like him.” “Men like this who interfere with other people’s engagements deserve to be punished.” I bit my tongue, the metallic taste keeping me conscious. Kyle dusted off his hands, raising an eyebrow. “Right, such a disgusting man should have his legs broken. Let’s take him to the garage and teach him a proper lesson.” He looked at me like trash, disgust in his eyes. “Grab him.” As soon as he spoke, a voice came from behind. “Who are you people, and what are you doing at my Foster family’s doorstep?” “Adrian!” I heard Damien’s voice.

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The night my parents were kidnapped, my sister Bethany—a police officer—insisted on going bungee jumping with our adopted brother, Blake. I didn’t stop her. Instead, I called the police and prepared the ransom myself. In my previous life, Bethany had skipped the trip with Blake to rescue our parents. But during his bungee jump, Blake’s cord snapped. He plunged into the ravine, and they never even recovered his body. On my birthday, Bethany drugged me and dragged me to that same cliff. “You orchestrated the kidnapping! You’d go this far just to compete for their love—you’re a monster!” “Blake is dead. You don’t deserve to live either!” When I opened my eyes again, I’d returned to the day my parents were kidnapped. This time, Bethany didn’t launch a rescue. She rushed to Blake’s side instead. Later, she nearly went insane with regret. 1 I jolted awake, my forehead drenched in sweat. My heart hammered violently. The terror of freefall still clung to me as I took in my familiar bedroom. I checked the time. I’d been reborn. I was back before it all began—the day my parents were kidnapped. In five minutes, the kidnappers would call, demanding we prepare the ransom within an hour or they’d kill their hostages. My name is Micah Bennett. I’m the son the Bennett family lost eighteen years ago. I’d been back with my parents for less than a year, but they were my everything. No matter what, I couldn’t let the tragedy from my previous life happen again. I rushed downstairs and stationed myself by the phone. Bethany followed close behind. “Micah, who are you putting on this performance for? Mom and Dad aren’t even home.” “Or did ‘you’ kidnap them?” A mocking smile played on Bethany’s lips. In that moment, I knew for certain—she’d been reborn too. Her expression seemed to say: Don’t bother struggling. It’s useless. Without her parents to play along, this charade would end even sooner. In my previous life, Bethany had been convinced I’d orchestrated the kidnapping to compete for our parents’ attention and validation, to make them notice me. I had no idea where she’d gotten such an absurd conclusion. In this new life, Bethany decided to simply ignore my “trap.” “Micah, don’t say I didn’t warn you—conspiracy to commit a crime is still a crime.” “Don’t come crying to me when you end up behind bars.” I wanted to respond, but the shrill ring of the phone cut me off. Each ring pierced my heart. Bethany acted as if she heard nothing. Before leaving, a flash of contempt crossed her face. “Do whatever you want. I’m going bungee jumping with Blake.” “They won’t actually get hurt anyway. Don’t bother me unless it’s important.” That wasn’t what she’d said in my previous life. Back then, Bethany had used her years of investigative experience to quickly locate the kidnappers’ hideout. Within just one hour, she’d brought our parents home safely. That day, my mind had been entirely consumed with worry for my traumatized parents. I hadn’t noticed the suspicion and rage hidden in Bethany’s eyes. I only found out later, when I was dragged to that cliff. During the rescue operation, Blake had called Bethany countless times. When she didn’t answer, he went bungee jumping alone—and the accident happened. Now, the phone rang like a death knell, filling me with dread. I answered. The kidnapper’s voice came through clearly. “Twenty million. You have two hours to get it ready, or your parents are dead.” My eyes widened in horror. What? In my previous life, they’d only demanded ten million! 2 I gripped the receiver tightly, cold sweat pouring down my face. It seemed the reality of this life differed slightly from the last. The kidnappers’ location might have changed too. My initial confidence suddenly turned to panic. I begged through tears. “Can you give me more time? I—” They hung up. I immediately reined in my emotions. I knew showing weakness to these criminals was pointless. The priority was preparing the ransom and confirming their location. My hand rapidly scribbled information on paper—everything I knew from my previous life. There were two kidnappers, both young men. The location was one of their homes. The ransom was ten million, to be deposited in the third trash can at the south entrance of the train station. The kidnappers never got the chance to collect the money—Bethany raided their hideout before they could. Both the money and our parents were saved. Remembering this, I immediately grabbed my phone and dialed 91

I also contacted Dad’s close friend and company director, Quinn Parker, asking him to have finance prepare the cash urgently. Quinn sounded as panicked as I was on the phone. “Call the police, Micah. I’ll handle the money.” My heart finally settled a bit. Two minutes later, officers from the nearby precinct arrived. Bethany’s colleague and best friend, Nora Xu, walked in without a friendly expression. “Micah, Bethany just called me. Lucky I was in the neighborhood…” “Filing a false police report is illegal!” All my courage and hope collapsed in that instant. Bethany was convinced I was the mastermind behind the kidnapping, so she’d deliberately sent her best friend to respond. Her goal was to stop my “unreasonable tantrum.” Without police resources or expert investigators, how could I break through this situation? Unable to control my emotions, I crumpled the clues in my hand into a ball. Thinking of my parents being tortured by the kidnappers, I broke down crying. “Nora, I’m not lying. I’m an adult. I take responsibility for my actions.” “Please, I need police help. I need you to help me save my parents!” I sobbed uncontrollably, constantly checking the clock. Almost ten minutes had passed already. I didn’t have much time left. Nora leaned against the sofa, casually scrolling through her phone. She showed no sympathy for my tears. “They say kids who grew up outside the family are cunning. You think crying will get you sympathy?” “Bethany’s right—kids you didn’t raise from birth just aren’t the same. Their hearts aren’t in the right place.” “Blake is so much more sensible than you…” Blake was different from me. He’d been adopted by my parents as a child and grew up pampered. Bethany especially took care of him thoroughly. Even after both became adults, they still spent a lot of time together. The ticking of the clock pulled me back to reality. I forced down my roiling emotions and made myself calm down. “Nora.” I spoke her name seriously. “Since you responded to the call, you have an obligation to process my report…” Before I could finish, Nora’s mocking laughter cut me off. “Who are you trying to fool here?” “You think just because you’re back with the Bennetts you can control everything? You’re like an outsider in this house.” Her words plunged me into an icy abyss. “Bethany told me everything. Your parents don’t even love you that much. They constantly mix up your name with Blake’s.” “You’ve pulled all kinds of manipulative stunts to compete for their attention. You made things so difficult that Blake had to move out.” Nora munched from a fruit plate while putting me down. I knew these were ideas Bethany had fed her over time. In their eyes, I was just someone who schemed for attention. Standing before her again, how she viewed me didn’t matter at all. “What will it take for you to believe me? My parents are in serious danger right now.” “If we miss the golden window for rescue, can you handle that responsibility?” Nora’s hand paused. She stood up from the sofa. “Go ahead and report me then. Punks like you need to be taught a lesson…” Before she could finish, two uniformed officers appeared at the door. “Is Micah here? We received a report and came to process the case.” My legs nearly gave out. My parents were finally going to be saved! 3 As soon as Nora saw who’d arrived, she went over to shake hands. “We’re colleagues. I just came to check on Bethany’s brother.” Only then did I notice Nora was in civilian clothes. The next moment, she tried to slip out the door. The two officers stopped her. I stepped forward to report the situation. “Officers! My parents really were kidnapped. I have a recording!” The call I’d deliberately recorded on my phone finally came in handy. When the kidnapper’s voice played, Nora’s face went white. “But Bethany clearly said they were… actors…” “She said you staged the whole thing yourself.” I snorted coldly, too tired to waste words on her. I carefully unfolded the crumpled paper ball in my hand. Drawing on the somewhat blurred memory fragments from my previous life, I carefully recalled those tiny details. Rapidly organizing and piecing them together in my mind, I finally thought of a good cover story to provide the clues from my previous life. “Officers! I can provide information about the suspects. They appeared near my house before.” “The voice sounds very similar… They asked me for directions back then. I can’t be completely certain.” Soon a sketch artist and monitoring equipment were in place. I concentrated fully on describing the two kidnappers’ appearances. Cross-referencing with people who had criminal records, we quickly got results. They were two young men who’d previously been imprisoned for robbery. One of them had rented a house under his real name. The police immediately arranged a rescue operation. I sat on the sofa, but felt like I’d just been pulled from water. Cold sweat had soaked me through. Twenty minutes later, the officer waiting with me received a report. “I’m sorry, Micah. We didn’t find your parents at the scene.” “But we did find this.” The kidnappers’ house contained many surveillance photos—not just of my parents, but of me too. “They’ve been casing the place for a long time. Don’t worry, these two won’t get away.” My brain felt ready to explode. The thing I feared most had happened after all. The kidnappers had changed where they were holding the hostages. That meant all my clues were useless. Nora was making a phone call to Bethany nearby. Even though she tried to keep her voice down, I heard every word clearly. “It really is a kidnapping. We already have suspects. You should come back…” Bethany actually laughed on the other end. What she said seemed deliberately meant for me to hear. “Give it up. The bigger the game you play, the harder you’ll fall…” “When Mom and Dad lose face and disown you, don’t come crying…” The fear and resentment from my previous life surged up instantly. Even if she hated me, this brother who’d only recently been found. At a time like this, she shouldn’t refuse to believe even other people’s words. I’d done nothing wrong. My parents had done nothing wrong either. The daughter they’d carefully loved for over twenty years was now ignoring their safety to accompany a non-blood-related brother. If my parents knew, I couldn’t imagine how heartbroken they’d be. I felt it wasn’t worth it for them. As I wiped the tears from my eyes, the landline at home suddenly rang loudly. The officer monitoring the call shot me a look. My heart rate spiked. The kidnappers were calling again! 4 The monitoring officer made a gesture at me. I picked up the receiver, my whole body trembling. The officer nearby held up a card to remind me. [Stall for time] I immediately took a breath. When I spoke, my voice still carried a sob. “I’m getting the money ready. Please, don’t hurt my parents.” The kidnapper laughed dismissively. “Then hurry up! You’ve got one hour left. I told you—time’s up and I’ll kill them!” The officer handed me another card. “Where do I deliver the money? And where do I pick up my parents after I pay?” The kidnapper’s tone showed clear impatience. “Put the money in a locker at the station. Don’t worry about your parents—once we get the money, they’ll be back with you immediately.” My temples throbbed. The drop-off location was different from my previous life too. I tried to keep talking so the monitoring team could trace the source. “Are my parents okay? Can I hear their voices?” The kidnapper cursed viciously. “So damn demanding.” Then I heard my parents’ helpless voices. “Micah, we found you again. We have no regrets in this life.” “Don’t risk yourself for us. Protect yourself.” “We love you more than you know, and we want to make it up to you. Sometimes we just don’t know how to express it…” Dad’s aged voice came through. “Son, I deeply regret losing you when you were little. If I get the chance, I’ll apologize to you in person…” My throat closed up so tightly I couldn’t form complete sentences. I wanted to say I didn’t need them to make anything up to me. I just needed them safe. Please wait patiently—I would definitely save them! The kidnapper cut off the conversation first. He seemed to kick someone, his language crude. “Shut up, old fool! Waste of space! Rich people are so damn dramatic!” “Get the money here fast, or I can’t guarantee your parents will come home in one piece.” He hung up. Everyone unconsciously looked at me, then shook their heads. They hadn’t traced the location. The kidnappers had used technology to block it. My anxiety and fear erupted again. Countless pieces of information jumbled chaotically in my brain. This money had to be delivered—at least it could guarantee my parents’ safety. I immediately grabbed my phone to call Quinn, who’d promised to help me gather the cash. But the call wouldn’t go through no matter how many times I tried. As I dialed that number for the Nth time, my phone rang first. Bethany’s laughter came through clearly. “Had enough of your performance yet? Time to end it.” I immediately became alert. “What did you tell Quinn?” Bethany laughed with complete openness. “Not to give you money, obviously. That’s twenty million. Even for a performance, no one would just hand it over.” “I told Quinn you’re just playing manipulative games. You want to drain the family assets the moment you return. He won’t help you.” In that moment, all my hope vanished completely. I deflated like a punctured balloon, losing all will to live. Without that twenty million, my parents had zero chance of survival. I’d seen the case report from my previous life. Those two men already had blood on their hands. They wouldn’t hesitate to add two more victims. Without the money, they really would kill the hostages! The phone rang again. The kidnapper’s agitated voice stabbed into my heart like a blade. “If you don’t get the money here now, I’ll kill them right this second!”

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The first thing I did after being reborn was break up with my girlfriend. Because in my past life, I got into a car accident trying to save her and became a vegetable. Three years later when I woke up, I discovered my girlfriend had a fiancé. “Marcus, let’s not bring up our past relationship anymore. That was just a childish joke from when we were young.” My parents had a new son. “Sweetheart, these past few years while you were gone, it’s been Thomas who’s been there for us the whole time.” I couldn’t accept it. I tried to sabotage Thomas and Lucy’s engagement party, but they threw me out. Right outside the venue, I was hit by a car and killed. The car was carrying the 999 roses Lucy had ordered for Thomas. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the moment I had just woken up. This time, looking at Lucy standing awkwardly by my hospital bed, I nodded. “I’ll agree to break up, but I want compensation!” 1. “What?” Lucy seemed confused and asked me again. I curved my lips slightly. “Three years ago, I saved you. Otherwise, you’d be the one lying here.” “Three years of my time, plus your life—name your price and pay me back!” Lucy was stunned for a long moment, then said flatly, “I know you resent me, but why debase yourself like this?” I laughed coldly. “Debase? What do you mean, debase?” “I saved you back then. Did you think you could just brush aside these three years so easily?” Lucy pressed her lips together, brazenly saying, “We were in love back then. You were good to me, and I remember all of it.” Looking at her act, I couldn’t help but laugh. What a piece of work! She just doesn’t want to pay. No matter how many times I relived this, she was still just as disgusting. In my past life, right after I woke up, Lucy told me about her love at first sight with Thomas. Back then, my memories were still stuck three years ago, when our relationship was at its sweetest. We had gone traveling together. Lucy wasn’t watching where she was going and was about to be hit by a car. Blinded by love, I pushed her out of the way and got hit myself, becoming a vegetable. Three years later, everything had changed. I couldn’t accept that I had risked my life for Lucy, yet during those three years, she had found someone new to love. I cried endlessly, threw tantrums endlessly, completely losing control like a madman. The result was that they grew more and more impatient with me. The day I was discharged from the hospital happened to be Lucy’s engagement day. I rushed straight to their engagement ceremony and caused a huge scene. Everyone thought I’d gone crazy, including my parents. They had security throw me out. As if fate was mocking me, right after leaving the venue, I was hit by a car and killed. Ironically, that car was carrying the 999 roses Lucy had ordered for Thomas. After my death, Lucy and Thomas had no more obstacles and lived happily together. And my parents acted as if they’d never had a son like me, doting on Thomas as if he were their own. This time, I no longer hoped for their attention. I wanted to live well for myself. But first, I needed to take back everything that belonged to me. “Lucy, spare me the talk about feelings. If you really had feelings for me, you wouldn’t have a new lover.” “Thirty million. That’s the price for your life. Not unreasonable, right?” “Or I could post this story online and let everyone judge whether I’m being unreasonable or whether Miss Lucy is ungrateful!” I said those last four words very slowly, successfully making Lucy’s face turn livid with anger. Three years ago, I was an outstanding young man who had earned a scholarship to a top university. Lucy could never repay me for those three years. Lucy thought she had me under her thumb, that I wouldn’t dare disobey her. That even if I was betrayed, I could only swallow my anger. But I was determined to tear off her mask. “Marcus, I know you can’t accept this right away, but don’t worry—we can still be best friends in the future. There’ll just be one more person to care about you.” “Thomas is a great guy. He and I will take good care of you from now on.” Lucy’s shamelessness left me speechless. Before I could respond, the hospital room door was pushed open. “Marcus, you’re finally awake!” Our eyes met, and Thomas’s eyes reddened with emotion. I had to admit, he was really good at acting. “Yeah. If I hadn’t woken up, my place would’ve been completely taken.” At my words, Thomas immediately explained, “No, I never wanted to compete with you for anything.” Still the same hypocritical routine. His behavior was truly beneath contempt. I curved my lips slightly and said coldly, “It’s fine. If you’ve taken it, you’ve taken it. I don’t care anyway.” “As long as Lucy gives me what I’m owed, I’ll give you both my blessing.” At these words, Thomas looked at me in disbelief. “You… how come… you’re not making a scene?” He said the last part very quietly. But because all my attention was on him, I still heard it. Realizing a certain possibility, I couldn’t help but smile. It seemed he had been reborn too. I pretended not to understand and asked, “Lucy said you two are about to get engaged. Would making a scene do any good?” I stared at Thomas without blinking. A flash of smugness crossed his face. Sure enough, this was different from my past life. 2. In my past life at this point, Thomas was still playing the victim. He would never have shown such an expression. It seemed things were getting interesting. “Marcus, you just woke up. Don’t overthink things. Even if you’re mad at me, you need to take care of your health first.” Lucy was the same as always—constantly expressing concern with her words, but when it came to actually paying money, she was reluctant. However, this time she wouldn’t have a choice. Unlike my past life, I had learned my lesson this time. No crying, no tantrums. Only surface-level blessings. So after three days in the hospital, I was taken back to the family estate to recuperate. My parents only showed up at the beginning to express concern, then went off to busy themselves with their own affairs. Over these past few days, I had become completely convinced that Thomas was reborn. However, this time, he was too impatient. As soon as my parents left, he invited Lucy and their friends over to the house for a party. He claimed it was to celebrate my awakening, but in reality… Everyone else was standing while I sat in a wheelchair. “Marcus hasn’t fully recovered yet, so everyone needs to take good care of him today.” Thomas, like a good friend, asked everyone to look after me. Seeing this, people’s eyes shifted between Lucy, Thomas, and me, all with expressions of watching a good show. And I had no intention of disappointing them. “Lucy, what I said to you that day—have you thought it over?” At my words, whispers rippled through the crowd. A flash of impatience crossed Lucy’s face. “Marcus, there’s a limit to throwing tantrums. With so many people here today, do you really want to make a spectacle of yourself?” I scoffed. “If anyone’s making a spectacle, it’s you.” “Three years ago, I saved you. Otherwise, you’d be the vegetable.” “Now you have a new lover, and I haven’t pestered you excessively. I’m only asking you to pay for this life. Is that too much?” “Thirty million for Miss Lucy’s life and three years of time. That’s not a lot.” The information was overwhelming, and everyone couldn’t help but gasp. “Marcus, how can you demand such a huge amount of compensation? That’s just unseemly,” Thomas looked at me with a pained expression. “If it were me, even losing my life for Lucy would be willing.” Looking at his hypocritical act, my eyes hurt. “Then you pay the thirty million for her. If you can give up your life, what’s a little money? Right?” Thomas was speechless, glaring at me viciously before putting on a wounded, wronged expression. “Marcus, I know you’re doing this to embarrass me. I couldn’t control my heart—Lucy and I fell in love. You can do whatever you want to me, but please don’t hurt Lucy, okay?” After saying this, Thomas’s face was already covered in tears. Anyone who didn’t know better would think I’d bullied him. In fact, that’s exactly what Lucy thought. She pulled him behind her, looking at me with disgust and saying bluntly, “Marcus, I’ve already made it very clear—I don’t love you anymore. Nothing you do will attract my attention.” I laughed scornfully. I didn’t understand where she got such confidence. “Lucy, stop being so full of yourself. I just want what I’m owed. Or are you saying that the noble Miss Lucy’s life is worth nothing?” “Even ordinary people know to repay kindness. Are you, Miss Lucy, trying to be ungrateful? Now that you have someone new, have you forgotten even the old debt of a life saved?” My voice was full of mockery. The guests began exchanging looks and whispering among themselves. “Poor Marcus—he saved Miss Lucy and got dumped for it.” “Thirty million really isn’t that much. Marcus is a decent person. If it were me, I’d have torn into this unfaithful couple long ago.” “I get the feeling Thomas isn’t a good person either. Just look at him.” … Lucy’s face turned livid. “Marcus, that’s enough!” 3. “You want money? Fine! I’ll give it to you. After this, we have no relationship whatsoever. Don’t you dare regret it.” I snorted coldly and immediately sent her my bank account information. “Then let everyone here witness this—transfer the money to me now!” I pressed forward step by step, and Lucy was furious. She immediately called her assistant to arrange the transfer. Unfortunately, she hadn’t inherited the family business yet and didn’t have that much money on hand. Looking at the ten million that appeared in my bank account, I laughed coldly again, unable to resist mocking her. “Can’t even come up with thirty million, yet you have the nerve to string along two guys at once. I truly look down on you.” “Stop spouting nonsense!” Thomas couldn’t hold back anymore, his face contorted as he pointed at me and cursed. “The doctor had already determined you wouldn’t wake up back then. Did you expect Lucy to give up her own life for you?” I shook my head, looking at Thomas with contempt. “Put away that twisted expression. It’s too ugly.” Thomas’s face froze, not knowing whether to laugh or cry. He looked so hideous it hurt to look at him. Lucy pulled him into her arms protectively, glaring at me angrily. “I’ll transfer the rest of the money tomorrow. After that, we have no relationship at all. Don’t you dare regret it.” I laughed scornfully and said without hesitation, “Whoever regrets it is the loser.” Applause broke out in the crowd. Our eyes met. Jennifer was clapping while looking at me with an expression between a smile and something else. Seeing her, I pressed my lips together and maneuvered my wheelchair to leave. But before I got far, Jennifer caught up. “Three years in a coma, and you finally grew a brain?” Hearing her teasing voice, I felt my eyes sting with tears. Jennifer—the eldest daughter of the Rivera family. Sharp-tongued since childhood, never one to back down in an argument. I had always thought she disliked me, but it wasn’t until my past life, when I died, that I learned the truth wasn’t like that at all. After my death, I discovered Jennifer was just someone with a sharp tongue but a soft heart—a fool. She used every means to take revenge on my parents and Lucy for me. Driving them into a corner wasn’t enough—on the anniversary of my death, she went mad and deliberately crashed into them, killing them all… Thinking of her painful expression at the end, my heart ached. “Yeah, after sleeping for three years, my brain should be fully developed.” I had wanted to chat with her casually, but by the end, I couldn’t help the sob in my voice. For all that lost time. Jennifer pressed her lips together and pushed my wheelchair forward. “Jennifer, do you need a husband?” Looking at tonight’s moonlight, I asked casually. “What do you think of me?” Jennifer looked at me seriously. “Are you serious?” “Don’t tell me in a couple days you’ll lose your mind and go back to Lucy.” Her tone carried not just pride, but also a hint of grievance. I couldn’t help but laugh. “Don’t worry. I won’t.” Early the next morning, looking at the marriage certificate in my hands, I was completely dazed. I didn’t expect Jennifer to be so eager. Last night after I spoke, she brought me straight home, and first thing this morning, she took me to city hall. “The marriage certificate is already signed. It’s too late for regrets.” Seeing me spacing out, Jennifer snatched the certificate from my hands. I smiled slightly and grinned at her. “I won’t regret it!” Before I could continue, my phone suddenly rang. “Marcus, wherever you are, get home right now!” It was my father’s call. From his tone, this wasn’t going to be pleasant. “What’s wrong?” “I took money from Lucy yesterday. My dad probably wants me to come home so he can give me hell.” “Then let’s go. I’d like to see who dares to make Mr. Rivera’s husband suffer.” As soon as I reached the living room entrance, I sensed an unusual atmosphere inside. The moment I entered, a cup shattered into pieces at my feet. 4. If Jennifer hadn’t pulled me back in time, it would have hit me. “You worthless son! You just woke up and you’re already causing trouble.” My father glared at me furiously. “You’re not good enough to keep Miss Lucy, so you actually dare to ask her for money?” “Does the Rivera family not feed you or give you drinks? How dare you humiliate yourself in front of so many people?” He spoke mercilessly. I glanced at Thomas looking smug beside him. I understood immediately. When he couldn’t handle it himself, he brought in the parents. If this were my past life, I definitely would have felt hurt by my father’s words. I might even have reflected on what I did wrong. But now, I wouldn’t. “I saved Lucy. Thirty million isn’t too much, is it?” “In other words, if it were you—thirty million for one extra life—wouldn’t you think that’s a great deal?” “You!” Unable to win the argument, he tried to hit me. Just as his palm was about to land on my face, Jennifer stepped forward and blocked me. My father’s hand stopped in mid-air. Seeing him both angry and trying to appease Jennifer, I said in a mocking tone, “Dad, Miss Rivera is even more precious than Lucy. If that slap lands, thirty million probably won’t be enough compensation.” My father reluctantly lowered his hand. Then he looked at Jennifer with a fawning expression. “Miss Rivera, how did you end up with Marcus? I’ve spoiled him since he was young—he’s arrogant and domineering. If he’s offended you in any way, feel free to hit or scold him as you please.” Ha! If I hadn’t done a paternity test, I would sometimes really doubt whether he was my biological father. A person who could abandon his own son at any moment didn’t deserve to be a father. “Marcus is my husband now. He’s not someone just anyone can bully.” For the first time, I found Jennifer’s sharp tongue so satisfying when used against enemies. “What?” Hearing Jennifer’s words, my father’s gaze shifted constantly between Jennifer and me. Thomas reacted even more strongly than my father. He couldn’t sit still anymore and jumped up from the sofa. “How could you marry Marcus? It shouldn’t be like this! How could someone like him be worthy of you?” Thomas looked completely shocked. After a long moment, he muttered to himself, “Miss Rivera, did Marcus seduce you? Don’t you know that three years ago he was desperately in love with Lucy? And now he’s asking for thirty million!” Thomas spared no effort in smearing my reputation. Not only did my father not object, he actually nodded in agreement. “Thomas is right. Marcus really isn’t worthy of you. You should separate from him quickly.” The two of them went back and forth, practically grinding me into the dust. And Jennifer’s lips curved in a faint smile the whole time. After they finished, Jennifer snorted coldly. “Mr. Williams, when did your eyes go blind? It seems I need to reconsider our cooperation with Williams Corporation.” My father’s expression froze, and he turned on me again. “Marcus, did you badmouth the Williams family to Miss Rivera? After all these years, I’ve been raising you for nothing. Three years ago, I shouldn’t have saved you. I should have let you die in that hospital room.” His eyes held undisguised malice. I couldn’t help but clench my fists, veins bulging. If I could stand, I really would want to slap him. Jennifer seemed to know what I was thinking. She slapped my father across the face. “Marcus and I are already married. He’s my husband now. Insulting him is slapping me in the face.” “What did you say? You’re married?” Lucy stormed in furiously, looking like a crazed lioness.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “359934”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #现实主义Realistic #重生Reborn #励志Inspiring