Author: Momo Chan

On the morning of New Year’s Day, I had prepared gifts for my in-laws, but I waited forever for Lucas to pick me up. Bored out of my mind, I scrolled through Ins and saw that his secretary, Leah, had just posted an update: “Mr. Reed took me to meet his parents! His mom’s gift was so expensive—I feel bad accepting it!” The photo showed her in my vacation villa’s garden, surrounded by Lucas’s family, beaming with joy. Lucas had commented with utter adoration: “You silly girl, we’ll give you gifts every New Year from now on.” I screenshot that smug photo and posted it directly to the company’s executive group chat. “Lucas, since when did your mom become Leah’s mother-in-law? How come I didn’t know about this?” “Also, get your parents and Leah out of my house by 8 PM tonight. You’re all making the place filthy!” The chat went dead silent. The next second, Lucas’s call came through: “Samantha Smith, do you have any idea how this makes Leah look in front of her colleagues? She grew up without a family, and my parents and I just wanted to care for a poor girl! Apologize publicly in the group chat right now!!” I let out a cold laugh: “She’s been fired. So have you.”

Before he could start raging, I hung up. The car went quiet. My dad passed away years ago, and my mom was traveling again this year. So Lucas brought his relatives to my vacation villa, saying he wanted to throw a party to liven things up. I agreed. But I didn’t expect him to spend three million of my money buying gifts for his parents and his secretary. He even brought the secretary to my house. Soon after, Lucas sent another message. [Get here within half an hour.] [Leah’s timid—this is her first time at something like this. Bring that green jade necklace from the safe to give to her. Don’t make our family look cheap.] [Oh, and wipe that death-mask look off your face. It’s bad luck.] I stared at the screen. My family’s heirloom jade necklace—he wanted to hang it around a secretary’s neck? I ignored him, turned up the car stereo, and hit the gas. I stopped the car outside the iron gates of my vacation villa. I pressed down on the horn and didn’t let go. After a minute, Lucas came out with a dark expression on his face. “Samantha, are you sick? You’re ten whole minutes late, and the elders have been waiting for you!” I rolled down the window, my gaze sliding right past him. Leah followed behind him, wearing a cream-colored coat. I raised an eyebrow. That was my globally limited-edition piece—tags still attached. Now it was on her, sleeves rolled up twice, looking completely ridiculous. When Leah saw me, she shrank back and hid behind Lucas. “Samantha… don’t misunderstand.” “It’s windy up here in the mountains. Lucas was worried I’d freeze, so he let me wear it.” Lucas immediately stepped in front of her protectively, glaring at me. “What’s wrong with borrowing it? You have so many clothes—do you really need to stare like that?” “Where’s the jewelry?” I said nothing. I opened the glove compartment and pulled out a box cutter. Lucas froze. “What are you doing with a knife?” I ignored him and walked straight toward Leah. Leah looked at me timidly. “Samantha, don’t be angry. After the New Year visit, I’ll wash it and return it to you…” I shook my head and said calmly, “Don’t you think this coat doesn’t really fit you?” Leah blinked. “Huh?” I flicked out the blade and raised my hand toward her shoulder, slashing downward. “Ahhh—” Leah screamed. But before my blade even touched the coat, a powerful force clamped down on my wrist. “Samantha, are you out of your fucking mind?” Leah stood frozen in shock. A cold wind blew past, and only then did she start trembling. Lucas roared and flung my hand away, patting Leah’s back repeatedly. “Are you sick? First day of the New Year and you’re pulling out knives?” I looked at the pair of scumbags in front of me and frowned. “Well then, Happy New Year to both of you.” “Next time, I’ll aim straight for your pretty little face.” At that, Leah went limp and collapsed into Lucas’s arms. Tears came instantly. “Lucas… a knife… she has a knife… she wants to kill me!” 2. Lucas’s eyes practically shot flames. You’d think I’d dug up his ancestors’ graves. “Samantha! If anything happens to Leah because of this scare, I’m not done with you!” “She just graduated, and you’re already coming at her with a knife?” I ignored him and reached for Leah’s wrist. “Didn’t you get hurt?” “Come on, I’ll take you to get it checked out.” Before my hand even touched her, she screamed again. “Don’t… Lucas, save me…” Then her body went soft, and without Lucas holding her up, she’d have collapsed on the ground. “Are you scared, or did your bones get scared away?” Leah completely ignored me and just kept sobbing. She practically melted against him—so smooth, you’d think she had no bones at all. “I won’t go to the hospital…” “Samantha didn’t mean it. She’s just jealous I’m wearing this coat… I’m fine, I’ll be okay in a bit.” Before she even finished her sentence, Lucas shoved me hard. The force was so strong I stumbled backward, my lower back slamming right into the marble console edge in the entryway. My vision went black, and tears shot out of my eyes. I clenched my teeth and stared at the man in front of me—utterly unrecognizable. If this were before, I probably would’ve cried and asked him why he pushed me. Now? I just felt I should’ve cut deeper with that knife. Lucas didn’t even glance at me. He was too busy patting Leah’s back and soothing her. After a while, he finally turned his head and said coldly, “Transfer five hundred thousand to Leah.” “Emotional distress compensation, plus the cost of the coat.” I leaned against the wall, nearly choking on my breath. Take my money to compensate for my coat? “Are you dreaming? Your abacus beads are flying straight into my face, dude!” I sneered and stared at him. “Still not awake? Let me get you two a room so you can sleep it off.” Leah’s eyes were red as she tugged on Lucas’s sleeve. She said timidly, “Lucas, stop fighting… it’s New Year’s. This is all my fault.” She turned to look at me. There was no fear in her eyes—only provocation. “Samantha, I don’t need you to pay me anymore. Earning money is hard.” “But this coat was Lucas’s gift to me, so please sweep up these scraps of fabric on the floor and keep them for me.” “Leah’s so understanding.” Lucas immediately chimed in. He grinned and pointed at the mess on the floor. “You hear that? Hurry up and clean it, then go to the kitchen and make Leah some ginger tea to calm her nerves! Don’t make me say it twice.” “You want me to make ginger tea for a mistress?” “Why don’t you just ask me to make you two a pot of tonic soup so you’ll have the energy to keep being a two-pump chump?” Lucas’s face flushed with humiliation. Before I could finish, he grabbed my arm and dragged me toward the kitchen. “What the hell are you babbling about! Are you deaf?” As I struggled desperately, he lost his patience. He shoved open the door to the utility closet and pushed me inside. “I was going to let you sit at the table for dinner, but now you can reflect in here until you’re ready to come out!” Bang—the door locked from the outside. I kicked the door. It didn’t budge. “Lucas, are you insane!” The hallway went quiet for a moment. Then came Leah’s sugary, breathy voice. “Ohhh~ Stop it~ Lucas, are you calming down now?” “Samantha’s getting older. She’s going through menopause and her emotions are unstable—we have to be understanding.” “You’re too kind.” Lucas’s sticky-sweet voice came through the door. “She’s thirty years old and acts like a shrew every day. Dry as a stick.” “Not like you—soft as water.” “Oh my gosh, Lucas, you’re so bad…” “I’m serious. Being with her is like hugging a wooden plank. Nothing like being with you—you make me feel like a man.” I stood in the utility closet, not angry, just disgusted. This was the man I’d loved for five years? When he proposed before, didn’t he say I was the light that illuminated his life? What happened? The light went out and turned into a plank of wood? I don’t know how much time passed before Leah pushed the door open. She stood there with her arms crossed, leaning against the doorframe. Her face was full of smugness—nothing like the innocent little rabbit act from before. “Samantha, you heard all that, right?” She lifted her chin. “Lucas said only when he’s with me does he feel like a real man.” I gave her a sympathetic look. These days, some people fight over trash and feel superior about it. “Yeah, I heard.” I brushed the dust off my hands and looked at her. “What’s there to be proud of?” Leah froze. I stepped closer and whispered in her ear, “A man who can’t even last three minutes—only you would treasure him like that.” “Since you love picking up garbage so much, you can have this quick-shot all to yourself.” 3 Leah dropped the act completely. She slammed the door shut, and all traces of that pitiful look vanished. She sneered outright. “Samantha, what are you being so stubborn for?” “You should know better than anyone how Lucas is in bed.” “Then again, how long has it been since you two shared a bed? Even if you stripped naked now, he probably wouldn’t touch you, would he?” She unlocked her phone and waved it in front of my face. “Take a look! The Eiffel Tower, the Maldives.” “Oh, and that time you went home for a funeral and he said he was on a business trip? We actually stayed in a hotel for three whole days without leaving the room.” “Want to hear the details? I’m worried your heart can’t take it at your age.” After hearing her provocation, I let out a mocking laugh. Leah’s face flashed with confusion. “Looks like Lucas never told you about his rags-to-riches story.” “A poor boy who couldn’t even afford college tuition—how he knelt in the snow at my family’s door, begging my dad to give him a chance. He never mentioned that?” Leah’s smile stiffened for a moment. Then, as if remembering something, she straightened up again, all self-righteous. “So what? Even if Lucas used to be a dog, he was still a dog you were willing to pave the way for!” “You still slept with him all these years, didn’t you?” I couldn’t help it—I laughed out loud. She didn’t get angry. Instead, she leaned in close and whispered in my ear, “Samantha, you need to know your place.” “Give up your position while you still can. Don’t cling to it like a desperate fool.” I stared at her. “What position?” “Mrs. Reed, CEO’s wife of Reed Corporation.” I paused and looked at her like she was an idiot. “CEO’s wife? Didn’t I just say?” “A man who’s about to be begging under a bridge—you want that title? Take it.” The moment I finished speaking, the door was shoved open. Lucas stood in the doorway, his face dark as storm clouds. Leah’s face immediately crumpled, her eyes reddening. She rushed over and clung tightly to his arm. “Lucas… Samantha’s lost it!” “She called me a whore and cursed you—cursed you to go bankrupt and beg on the streets…” She sobbed, her voice drowning in tears. “I tried to reason with her, and she just stabbed me with her words. How can someone be so vicious…” Lucas let out a cold laugh. He turned to look at me, eyes full of malice. “You bitch, say that again?” He pointed right at my nose. “Samantha, you really think you’re something special?” “That old bastard’s been dead for years! Now this house, this company—I’m the one in charge!” “After New Year’s, pack your shit and get out!” “You useless old hag squatting on a position you don’t deserve—it’s time someone else took that VP spot!” I couldn’t hold back—I snapped. “Lucas! Have you forgotten who begged my dad like a dog to bring you into the business?” “Without my family, you’d be nothing!” That completely set him off. “Fuck your Smith family!” His whole face twisted with rage. “Everything I have today, I earned myself!” “It has jack shit to do with your Smith family! Mention the past again, and I’ll sell you up north!” “Now! Without me, what the hell are you, Samantha? The shares I hold and the shares my people control—kicking you out is just a matter of one sentence!” With that, he shoved me aside hard and walked off with Leah in his arms. The sound of the car faded into the distance. The house was empty. I walked out of the utility closet. The place was a wreck. The car and the gifts worth hundreds of thousands—he’d taken them all. I pulled out my phone and scrolled to Lucas’s social media. The photo was a Reed family portrait. Leah sat beside him, smiling brightly, wearing my family’s jade necklace around her neck. The New Year gifts I’d prepared were all displayed in the most prominent spots. The caption read: “Finally able to breathe in this house.” The comments below were all the same: “Your wife is so beautiful.” I stared at the screen and made a call. The second the call connected, all the strength I’d been holding onto collapsed. “Aunt Susan…” My tears came without permission. “They’re trying to steal Dad’s company…” 4 The next time I saw Lucas was on the seventh day of the New Year—the first day back at work. I’d just arrived at the company entrance, but I didn’t even get to touch the revolving door. Lucas, along with the relatives he’d planted in the company, blocked my way. His face was full of impatience. “Samantha, just go home. I’ll handle the transition.” “It’s the first day back. I don’t want to make a scene.” Just as I was about to speak, the man behind him—someone I was supposed to call Uncle Bob—shoved me aside. The force was so strong I stumbled and slammed into a nearby pillar. “Why waste words on her!” Bob ripped off my ID badge and threw it hard on the ground. “Want to get into the company? Dream on! Mr. Reed is being generous letting you leave with dignity!” Leah’s high heels stepped right on it, grinding the toe of her shoe over my photo. “Oh my, Samantha, your era is over!” She smiled at me cheerfully. “From now on, you can’t just swipe your face to get through this door.” I stared hard at Lucas. He turned his head away without a word. My heart went completely cold. “Lucas!” “You’re just going to stand there and watch your wife get bullied?” When he didn’t respond— “Slap!” A sharp smack landed across my face. The entire lobby seemed to go silent for a moment. Bob spat on the ground. “You little bitch, how dare you call our Lucas by his name! What the hell are you now!” “Security! What are you standing around for? Drag this crazy woman out!” Just like that, several security guards shoved and pushed me out the door. I stood in the cold wind, watching the smug faces of those people inside. Bob clapped Lucas on the shoulder. His laughter echoed out. “Lucas, finally some peace! Should’ve kicked that woman out ages ago!” Leah practically hung off Lucas. “Mr. Reed, congratulations! You’ve finally taken back everything that belongs to you!” Only Lucas turned his head and looked at me through the glass. Hesitation flickered across his face for a moment. One of his board member relatives cut him off. “What are you looking at? She’s a stray dog now.” “Great men don’t sweat the small stuff! Let’s go hand out New Year bonuses together and celebrate the company being renamed Reed Corp!” A group of them crowded toward the elevator, and the whole scene felt surreal. I leaned against the cold wall, my whole body trembling. My company. My father’s life’s work. Just like that, occupied by a pack of thieves. Tears fell without permission. Suddenly, the screech of brakes shattered the silence. Five black Bentley Mulsannes pulled up in perfect formation at the company entrance. The license plate of the lead car—I’d never forget it as long as I lived. It was my father’s: SEA AS8888. “Dad…” The car door opened. A woman in a black trench coat stepped out. She walked straight up to me and draped the coat over my shoulders. Then she wiped the tears from my face. When her gaze landed on my swollen cheek, she asked, “Who did this?” I froze for a moment, then pointed inside the building. “They’re about to throw a victory party.” The woman let out a cold laugh. She turned to the lawyer who had stepped out of the car behind her. “You know what to do.” “Five minutes. I want that man named Lucas Reed out of my sight.”

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I received my January paycheck—only 600 dollars. When I went to the finance department, she gloated: “The Manager Logan said you’ve been working overtime every day and using the company’s electricity, wasting public resources. Naturally, the electricity bill needs to be deducted from your salary!” I went to find Logan to explain the situation. I’d been working overtime because the company had suddenly expanded its business. As the head of HR, I needed to work through the nights recruiting and onboarding people, coordinating everything. But Logan just shrugged: “Melissa, if you can’t complete your work within the designated time, how can you expect the company to foot the bill?” I smiled, looking at the new message on my phone. It was from the high-end technical specialist I’d hired, asking when he should start. I calmly replied: “Don’t bother coming.” The company had suddenly expanded. Without funding or sufficient staff, they’d blindly launched a new business venture. They’d taken on a program design project for a major gaming company. The client required all work to be completed within fifteen days. Because the money was good, Manager Logan hadn’t consulted anyone—he’d just accepted it directly. As the head of HR, I had no choice but to recruit people through the night. I’d even brought in my cousin,Bob—a renowned game server development engineer in the industry—at a salary far below market rate. To build the project team, I’d worked overtime for ten nights straight. Finally, I’d secured all the personnel. If nothing went wrong, the project could be smoothly completed in five days. I never expected to have my salary docked for using the company’s electricity while working overtime. Right after Logan kicked me out of his office, I received a text message. It was from Logan in the project group chat: “After comprehensive consideration, HR head Melissa has been found to have excessively used company public resources while working overtime, causing this month’s electricity bill to exceed by $10,600. This amount will be deducted from HR Melissa’s salary.” “However, to demonstrate the company’s humanitarian care, we’ve only deducted $10,000. I hope everyone takes this as a warning!” I looked at those cold words and laughed bitterly. What humanitarian care. What a warning. The phones of my nearby colleagues rang one after another—clearly they’d also received the message. Someone whispered: “Serves her right! Who told her to work overtime until late every night, showing off like that? Acting like the company can’t survive without her.” “Exactly. The company asked her to recruit people, and she brought in seventeen or eighteen people, all of whom she knows. Isn’t that just nepotism?” “The project hasn’t even made a profit yet, but she’s already spent all the funds!” I slammed my hand on the desk: “Which person I recruited is useless?” My colleagues immediately fell silent. Just then, Logan walked over. “Oh, Melissa, I need to inform you of something else!” “Because the company has expanded its personnel and is short on funds, starting next month, your base salary will be reduced to $1,500!” “After all, you’re the one who recruited all these people, so naturally when their salaries aren’t enough, you need to bear part of the burden.” I looked at his matter-of-fact expression and laughed in disbelief. I didn’t argue back. I just quietly opened my phone’s recording app: “Logan, I need to confirm with you—are you now, without any work errors on my part, arbitrarily reducing my salary to $1,500?” Logan replied arrogantly: “What? You don’t accept it?” “But I’m the general manager of this project. How much each person’s salary is—I have the final say!” His lackeys sucked up to him: “Logan is thinking about our project. The funds are limited, so shouldn’t they be used where they’re most needed?” “Exactly! If it were me, I’d have accepted it gladly! Melissa, you need to think more about the company!” Logan nodded with satisfaction. Seeing me holding my ground stubbornly, he asked: “You don’t accept it?” I looked at him silently, wordlessly protesting. He snorted and called out several more names. These people were all new recruits I’d brought in. “You few—your work abilities are mediocre. Each of you gets a $1,000 salary reduction!” Those people looked at each other and protested: “On what grounds? Our salaries were agreed upon when we joined!” Logan didn’t answer. He just looked at me triumphantly: “Melissa, do you have any objections to my arrangements?”

I took a deep breath and answered with a smile: “No, you have the final say on salaries.” But whether we actually work or not—that’s our decision. The people he’d just called out: There was Marcus, who did engine development, and Katie, who did tool development. Every single one was an industry talent, each capable of doing the work of three people. And they were all people I’d recruited at salaries far below market standard. It was only because they were my underclassmen from university who had received my help before, and were willing to help out in an emergency. They’d only signed short-term contracts to work until this project ended anyway. But now it was even better—they could leave directly. I just wondered whether the company could afford the breach of contract penalties if the project couldn’t be completed on time. Right after Logan announced his series of “brilliant decisions,” he received a call from the client. “Oh, Mr. Quinn, you can rest absolutely assured! We’ll definitely complete the task in five days, and we absolutely won’t delay your subsequent development!” “We’re definitely foolproof!” He made these promises without any psychological burden. After finishing the client’s call, he returned to the office. “Everyone, stay sharp! There’s less than a week until the delivery date. Everyone must ensure nothing goes wrong, okay?” His lackeys all agreed. Just then, Marcus, who did engine development, stood up: “Logan, I won’t be staying sharp.” “I just arrived today, and I haven’t even signed the employment contract yet. Then I ran into your brilliant display of power reducing my salary, so I’m leaving now!” With that, he left without looking back. Logan was shocked and turned to look at me: “Melissa, he’s your university classmate, right? How can he just leave like that? No credibility at all!” I shrugged: “But weren’t you the one who showed no credibility first?” “The contract hasn’t even been signed. He wants to leave, so he left. There’s nothing I can do.” Logan’s face darkened. He turned to his lackey number one, Derek: “Derek, you take over Marcus’s work!” I looked at this actual “connection hire” who’d been given special recruitment because he was Logan’s cousin, and I almost wanted to applaud. Brilliant! Having a high school dropout who’d never touched program development do engine development. What kind of pig brain could come up with such a wonderful idea? Sure enough, Derek repeatedly refused: “Logan, I have too much work on my plate already. I can’t handle it!” I smiled. His work consisted of picking up packages and takeout food for Logan. He was indeed busy. Logan’s gaze shifted, landing on Katie, who did tool development: “Then you! Can you take over Marcus’s work?” Katie spread her hands: “Can’t do it, Logan. Everyone has their specialty. I do tool development—I can’t do other things!” With that, she winked at me with a knowing smile. Tool development and engine development were both core R&D positions with significant differences. But this university classmate of mine was an all-around technical talent—whichever one it was, she could handle it with ease. But now she wasn’t willing, and no one could force her. Logan was so angry he was seething, shouting at Katie: “You’re fired!” Katie couldn’t have been happier: “Great! I’m out of here!” Then, Logan, breathing heavily, said to me: “Melissa, come with me!”

Those lackeys of Logan’s were whispering again. “Why’s he calling her again?” “What else? The people she recruited aren’t useful, so she’s going to get chewed out again!” “Haha, I bet that’s it! Best if he fires all the people she recruited and divides their salaries among us!” I couldn’t be bothered with them. I followed Logan into his office with neither humility nor arrogance. As soon as I entered, he pounded on his desk: “Melissa, what’s the deal with these people you found? Not a single one of them is useful!” “Forget it, I’ll give you a chance to redeem yourself. Go recruit someone else, preferably someone who can do both Marcus’s and Katie’s work!” I shook my head: “Logan, I can’t do that.” He jabbed his finger at my temple: “Can’t do it? What does the company pay this HR for—to do nothing?” “Do you know how much the company will have to pay in breach of contract penalties if the project can’t be delivered on time?” I dodged his finger jabbing at my forehead and steadied myself. I looked up at him: “I can’t means I can’t. What kind of person do you expect me to recruit for $3,000?” “Why don’t you get your cousins, nieces, and nephews to do it? They seem pretty smart to me.” This project team was already short on funds, and the relatives Logan had brought in had taken up a large portion of the salaries. After I finished speaking, I slipped out quickly before Logan could throw files at my head. Ten minutes later, my phone rang. It was Mr. Harrison from headquarters. I knew Logan must have tattled. Harrison had given me a job opportunity when I’d fought with my family years ago and refused to go home to inherit the family business. So all these years, I’d worked hard for the company with all my heart. I resolved that if Harrison would agree to fire the parasites Logan had brought in and let me use their salaries to recruit people, I’d be willing to try again. The call connected, and Harrison’s voice came through: “There you go being impulsive again! The company’s been tight on funds lately—you need to understand!” “How about this: I’ll privately reimburse you the $10,000 that was deducted, and you just pretend it didn’t happen, okay?” “I know you have a wide network. Hurry up and find two more people to help with the emergency!” Harrison spoke as if he’d bestowed some tremendous favor upon me. For the sake of his willingness to reimburse my salary, I decided to give him one more chance: “Harrison, our salaries are really too low! The people I recruited before were all my classmates who came as a personal favor to me.” “Now they’ve all left. If we don’t raise the salary a bit, I don’t have the confidence to convince them again.” “Could we take the high salaries that Logan’s relatives are getting—when they can’t do anything—and use that money…” Before I could finish, Harrison interrupted me. “Enough, Melissa! Logan is a veteran employee of the company, and he’s also my brother. Isn’t it normal for me to have a few trusted people around me?” I was stunned. So Logan and Harrison were also relatives—no wonder he was so fearless. “Besides, didn’t you also recruit people you know? Who doesn’t have their own interests?” “Didn’t I just reimburse you $10,000? You can use that money to recruit people! Why can’t you learn to be flexible?” I smiled. So that was his calculation. Then don’t blame me for completely giving up on this company that recruited a bunch of freeloading relatives. “Yes, yes, yes, you’re so smart!” “Hurry and transfer the money to me. I can’t wait to use it to recruit people!”

The $10,000 was quickly transferred to my payroll account. As soon as I got the money, I turned around and applied for seven days off on the company app, combining my overtime compensatory leave and annual leave. I’d just worked overtime for ten days straight—I could use a good rest. Right after I sent the application, Logan called me to his office again. “Melissa, what’s the meaning of this?” “This is a critical time for the company, and you want to quit?” “I won’t approve this leave!” I shrugged: “I’ve completed my task. Why can’t I take leave?” “In just ten days, I built a complete game program development team.” “I’m impressed with myself!” Logan roared: “What bullshit are you spouting?! Everyone’s left—who’s going to develop the game?!” “And didn’t Harrison just give you money to recruit people?” I smiled: “That’s my salary! Logan, get this straight—I’m only responsible for recruiting people. Is it also my fault if the company can’t retain them?” “Besides, didn’t you think their salaries were too high and wasting funds? Go find more suitable people yourself!” Logan was so angry he couldn’t get a word out. If they couldn’t complete the client’s project requirements on time, not only would the branch office’s reputation be ruined, they’d also have to pay ten times the contract amount in breach of contract penalties. This project was going to leave a colorful mark on Logan’s career. I magnanimously offered: “Logan, if you’re willing to admit your decision-making mistakes and apologize to me in the group chat, I can consider helping you out one more time.” His face darkened like water about to drip out. Just when I thought he was going to compromise, his phone rang. After the call ended, that familiar smug expression appeared on his face again: “Melissa, did you think the company can’t function without you? That you’re the only one in the whole company who can recruit people?” “Let me tell you, you’ve miscalculated! Headquarters just onboarded a high-end technical specialist who’s being transferred to us to help with the emergency!” “I’m approving your leave! Let me tell you, don’t expect a single cent of this project’s bonus!” I paused, then thought of something. I asked nonchalantly: “Fine, fine, fine. Amazing! Since you don’t need me anymore, I’m going on vacation!” After leaving the company, I pulled up a contact and sent a message. Then I bought a plane ticket home. And embarked on my journey home for the holidays. When I got home, I had a wonderful long sleep. When I woke up, I saw countless messages and missed calls on my silenced phone.

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On a stormy night, my younger brother was buried in a mudslide while my husband, Hayden, stayed with the woman he loved, listening to piano music. He used his authority to hold back the rescue team. Just to calm that woman’s fears. When they found my brother’s body, he transferred five million dollars. “Road delays. Stop making a scene.” Later, I miscarried, was kidnapped, and jumped from a moving car. His response was always the same. “She didn’t mean it. Be reasonable.” Only after I disappeared completely did he realize every “accident” had been a carefully laid trap. But when he found me in New York, dragging his broken leg, I just smiled, holding my new husband’s arm. “Mr. Hayden, your belated concern is cheaper than garbage.” Vienna’s POV In San Francisco’s elite circles, Hayden was famously known as the “cold-blooded devil.” He controlled a massive shipping empire with an iron fist. Yet he had once poured all his tenderness into me. That year, I was just a poor student working as a dock recorder. After a chance encounter in a rainstorm, he brought me onto his private yacht. And I stayed for five whole years. Everyone said that block of cold, hard steel had finally softened. For me. He would fly a helicopter across the strait during a typhoon just to bring me a box of cold medicine. Because I casually mentioned “wanting to see snow,” he built an artificial ice and snow palace on a tropical island. Most shocking of all, he married me despite his family’s opposition, even though I had no background. After marriage, he protected me so tightly no one could touch me. In the fourth year of our marriage, San Francisco was hit by a massive mudslide. My brother, a teacher, was buried beneath the rubble. Hayden wasn’t just a tycoon-he was also the sponsor and commander-in-chief of “Blue Shark,” the largest private rescue team in the area. When it happened, he was coincidentally conducting inspections nearby with his elite squad. I frantically called for help. On the other end, his voice was steady and reassuring. “Don’t worry. I’m here. Calvin will be fine.” However, as the golden rescue window ticked away second by second, the rain kept pounding the crumbling ruins. I knelt in the mud, my nails torn, my hands covered in blood, yet the heavy excavators and professional search and rescue team he’d promised never came. Trembling, I called him again. This time the phone rang for a full minute before someone answered. “Hayden! Where are the excavators? Where’s the rescue team?” I was crying. “Calvin’s been buried for three hours. The muddy water is about to fill the pit…” “Vienna, calm down.” On the other end, the background noise wasn’t the chaotic storm and machinery sounds, but an eerie silence. I could faintly hear soft piano music. “The road is blocked. The equipment can’t get through.” His voice was low, with a trace of stiffness. “Wait a little longer. I’m trying to arrange air transport.” “The road is blocked?” A supply truck had just driven past nearby. My heart sank bit by bit. “Hayden, tell me-where exactly are you right now?” “I’m at the dispatch center…” Before he could finish, a sweet, delicate female voice suddenly came through the phone, carrying a coquettish gasp. “Hayden, there’s thunder. I’m scared…” Then came Hayden’s instantly gentle consolation. “Don’t be afraid. I’m here. Put on your headphones and you won’t hear it.” A thunderbolt exploded over my head, shattering my last thread of sanity. That was Grace’s voice. Hayden’s “sister” who was supposedly recovering abroad, who allegedly suffered from severe depression and panic disorder. I quickly opened Grace’s social media account. Her latest post was from ten minutes ago. The location tag showed the safest hillside villa in San Francisco. In the photo, Hayden sat on the carpet by the floor-to-ceiling window, holding a storybook. Outside, rain poured violently, but inside was warm and cozy. The caption read: “On this stormy night, I’m lucky to have you beside me, driving away all my nightmares.” “Hayden.” I said, “You’re not coordinating the rescue. You’re with Grace, aren’t you?” Silence on the other end for a moment, then came his helpless explanation. “Vienna, Grace’s condition relapsed. On thunderstorm nights like this, she self-harms. Your brother is just buried-he’s not in immediate life-threatening danger. The rescue team will arrive shortly. Be reasonable and stop always targeting a sick person.” “Reasonable?” I laughed. “My brother’s life hangs by a thread in muddy water, and you want me to be reasonable? Hayden, in your eyes, is Grace’s fear of thunder more important than my brother’s life?” “Why have you become so unreasonable?” His tone grew impatient. “I told you I’d make arrangements for your brother. Can you please stop being hysterical?” The call was disconnected. I stood in the pouring rain and watched helplessly as a support beam holding up the ruins nearby collapsed with a thunderous crash. The mudslide instantly filled the pit that still had a sliver of space. “Calvin-!!!” I threw myself desperately at that pile of mud, frantically digging with my hands. But it was too late. When the belated firefighters finally arrived and dug him out, that sunny, cheerful boy who always called me “sis” was already cold and stiff, his mouth and nose filled with sludge. The doctor glanced once, then sighed and covered him with a white cloth. “Suffocation lasted too long. If only professional equipment had arrived half an hour earlier… or even twenty minutes earlier to prop up the space, perhaps he could have been saved.” My vision went black, and I completely passed out. When I woke up again, three days had passed. I lay in the hospital bed staring at the ceiling. The nurse was changing my bandages. Looking at the wounds covering my hands, she couldn’t help but sigh. My phone vibrated. It was a message from Hayden. No explanation. No apology. Just a notification that he’d transferred five million. Then a voice message. His tone carried that familiar condescension, that tiredness. “Grace hasn’t been well these past few days. I can’t leave right now. Take the money and fix up your family’s house. The rescue team said they were delayed. Road conditions. The weather. No one could’ve done anything. Stop with the tantrums. I’ll come back when I’m done here.” Listening to that voice message, my stomach churned with nausea. Natural disaster? Road condition delays? In reality, he had personally diverted the helicopter and advance team that should have rescued Calvin, all to comfort Grace. He didn’t even know that Calvin was already gone. I pulled out the IV needle from the back of my hand and walked to the window. On the LED screen downstairs, news about the Hayden Corporation was playing. On camera, Hayden wore a custom-tailored suit, protectively escorting Grace-who wore sunglasses-into a car. When reporters asked about Grace’s condition, his brow furrowed slightly, his eyes full of concern. “She was a bit frightened and needs rest. I hope everyone won’t disturb her.” In that moment, the last ember of warmth in my heart was completely extinguished. I returned to the hospital bed and pulled out my brother’s death certificate from my bag, then dialed my lawyer’s number. “Mr. Chen, this is Vienna. That divorce agreement we drafted before-it can take effect now.” “I don’t want any property division. I just want the fastest way to sever all ties with Hayden.” After hanging up, I removed my SIM card and casually tossed it into the toilet. The water swirled, carrying away all the past. I touched my bare ring finger. The custom diamond ring he’d proposed with, the one that meant “forever,” used to be there. Somewhere in the ruins, that ring was already buried in the mud. Just like Hayden’s love for me. It looked brilliant, but couldn’t survive a single storm. In the end, it could only rot in the mire, never seeing the light again. “Hayden,” I whispered to the empty hospital room. “This time, you destroyed everything yourself.”

Vienna’s POV Calvin’s funeral was hastily arranged. There were no mourners, no proper farewell-just me, sitting alone on the cold hard bench at the funeral home for an entire night. Hayden didn’t come. I heard that Grace had developed a “high fever from excessive fright.” He stayed by her side at the hillside villa without leaving, not even making a single phone call. The moment the funeral ended and I walked out of the cemetery, a sharp pain suddenly tore through my lower abdomen, like someone grinding a dull knife inside. My vision went black. I barely managed to stay upright by holding onto the wall. Using my last bit of strength, I made it to the hospital. After a series of tests, the doctor held my report with a complicated expression. “Ms. Vienna, congratulations. You’re pregnant-six weeks.” “However, your physical condition is very weak. Combined with the previous emotional trauma, there are signs of threatened miscarriage. You must be hospitalized immediately for fetal preservation.” “Pregnant…” How ridiculous. My brother had just died, and my marriage was already dead in name only. This child came at the worst possible time, like a cruel joke from fate. Was it conceived while kneeling in front of those ruins? Or was it heaven’s last bit of compensation, taking pity on me? I walked out of the consultation room. Passing through the VIP waiting area, my footsteps suddenly froze. At the end of the corridor by the floor-to-ceiling window, the man I’d loved for five years stood backlit, carefully holding another woman. Hayden wore an iron-gray handmade suit, his posture straight. But now he was slightly bent over, holding a wet wipe, his movements incredibly gentle. Grace looked up at him, her eyes and brows filled with delicate, timid laughter, letting Hayden carefully wipe away the lipstick smudged at the corner of her mouth. “How can you be so careless? You even smudge your lipstick drinking water.” Hayden’s voice was deep and rich, carrying an indulgence I hadn’t heard in a long time. “There, all clean now.” “Hayden, you’re so good to me.” Grace leaned into his embrace, wrapping her arms around his waist, her voice sweet and soft. “Without you, I really don’t know what I’d do.” “Silly girl, I’ll always be with you.” Hayden gently patted her back, like comforting a fragile treasure. They stood in the light, a perfect match. And I stood in the dark corner, clutching that crumpled early pregnancy test result, like a clown that couldn’t see daylight. From beginning to end, Hayden never looked back. His heart and eyes were full of Grace in his arms. He didn’t notice me just a few meters away. I couldn’t even feel heartache anymore-just a numb coldness spreading along my spine. I turned and rushed into the nearby bathroom. Turning on the faucet, cold water rushed over my fingers. I looked at myself in the mirror-my eyes utterly lifeless. Just then, the sound of high heels echoed behind me. Grace walked in. She was touching up her makeup in the mirror. When she saw me, that delicate, helpless expression instantly vanished, replaced by undisguised smugness and contempt. “Well, if it isn’t Vienna?” Grace leisurely twisted open a tube of lipstick, carefully applying it while looking in the mirror, smiling carelessly. “You look terrible. Are you sick? Hayden was just outside. Why didn’t you go say hello?” I turned off the faucet and looked at her through the mirror. “Grace, you don’t need to act in front of me.” “Act?” Grace let out a light laugh, then turned to face me, arms crossed, her gaze boldly raking over me. “I’m not acting. Hayden genuinely cares about me. You know what? The doctor just told me my body’s too weak. I need to rest up before I can try to conceive. When Hayden heard that, he panicked. He insisted on bringing me in for a full workup. He was scared something might happen to me.” At this point, Grace leaned closer, lowering her voice, her tone full of malicious provocation. “Vienna, your brother is dead, and you’re about to be kicked out too. Hayden told me he’s been tired of you for a long time. He just hasn’t mentioned divorce because he felt sorry for you. Now I’ve thought it through-I want to give him a child. Once I’m pregnant with the Hayden family heir, do you think the position of Mrs. Hayden will still belong to you?” My hand unconsciously moved to my lower abdomen. There was already a child here. Hayden’s flesh and blood. But looking at that arrogant face before me, then thinking of the man outside who was so tender toward a murderer, I suddenly felt nauseous. “Grace,” I lifted my head. “You’re so eager to climb up-are you afraid Hayden will find out that you deliberately faked illness that day to keep him there, and that you killed my brother?” Grace’s smile froze, then became even more vicious. “Don’t you dare slander me! It was clearly your brother’s bad luck! Vienna, I advise you to know your place and get lost early, before Hayden personally kicks you out. That would be too humiliating.” With that, Grace snorted coldly and walked out triumphantly on her high heels. I stood there, listening to Grace outside resuming that saccharine voice calling “Hayden,” followed by the man’s gentle response and their footsteps fading away. I lowered my head, looking at the test result in my hand. After a long while, I tore that paper into pieces bit by bit and threw it in the trash. Since he didn’t deserve to be a father, this child had nothing to do with him.

Vienna’s POV When I went downstairs, I accidentally lost my footing and fell. Blood flowed from beneath me. The doctor said the baby couldn’t be saved. The doctor seemed reluctant: “After all, this is a life, and your physical condition…” “I don’t want it to come into this world and suffer.” I interrupted the doctor, my voice as light as smoke. “Thank you.” I walked out of the consultation room. I just wanted to escape this suffocating place as quickly as possible. The elevator doors slowly opened. Just as I was about to step in, I froze. Inside the narrow car, Hayden was carefully supporting Grace. The two were intimately positioned, like conjoined twins. Seeing me, a flash of panic crossed Hayden’s eyes. He instinctively released his arm from around Grace. “Vienna? What are you doing here?” He looked at me, his tone urgent: “Where don’t you feel well?” Grace also came closer, her eyes scanning me: “Right, if you’re sick you should speak up. Don’t bear it alone. Hayden was just talking about you, saying you must be exhausted handling the funeral by yourself.” I felt my stomach churn. I sidestepped to avoid their touch: “Stomach discomfort. Just checking. No need to worry.” With that, I retreated to the elevator corner, staring intently at the jumping floor numbers, not wanting to stay a second longer. Hayden looked at me, opening his mouth to say something, but the elevator dinged as it reached the lobby. The catastrophe happened in that instant. As soon as the elevator doors opened, a man in a hospital gown, looking deranged, suddenly rushed over waving a fruit knife. “Nobody move! Don’t anybody move! I want to see the director!!” In the chaos, the man grabbed both me and Grace, who were at the front. The cold blade instantly pressed against my carotid artery. A stinging pain came, and I could even smell the rust on the blade. Grace was only grabbed by the arm-still some distance from the knife. “Help! Hayden, save me!!” Grace let out a scream and struggled desperately. This movement instead provoked the mentally unstable man. “Shut up! Scream again and I’ll kill you both!” The man roared. The knife in his hand trembled uncontrollably, cutting a bloody line on my neck. I bit my lip tightly, not making a sound, my whole body rigid, not daring to move. I knew that struggling now would only make things more dangerous. But Grace acted like she’d gone mad, crying and shrinking toward Hayden: “Hayden! I’m scared! Save me!!” Hayden stood several meters away, his face ashen, his gaze locked on the man. “Let them go! I’ll give you whatever you want!” “I don’t trust you! You’re all liars!” The man became even more agitated, wildly waving the knife, about to lose control. Grace’s screams became even more piercing: “Hayden! He’s going to kill me! Save me now!” In that moment, Hayden’s rationality seemed completely shattered by those screams. He didn’t look at me once. Instead, he charged toward Grace’s side. “Let go!” Hayden grabbed the man’s wrist and forcefully pulled Grace into his arms. “You’re asking for death!” Enraged, the man lost control of the knife in his other hand and slashed forward viciously. I only felt a sharp pain in my arm as blood instantly gushed out. Because of the tremendous force of Hayden snatching Grace away, the unbalanced man gave a hard shove, and I was thrown heavily backward. A dull thud. My lower back slammed hard against the solid marble pillar, then I fell to the ground in a mess. A tearing, sinking pain came from my abdomen. I curled into a ball, cold sweat instantly soaking my back. “Grace! Grace, are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere?” Hayden’s panicked voice sounded in my ears. He held Grace tightly in his arms, nervously checking her up and down, as if the person in his embrace was a fragile treasure. “Hayden, my stomach hurts so much… I’m so scared…” Grace huddled in his arms, trembling, her face streaked with tears-completely unharmed yet crying pitifully. “Don’t be afraid. It’s over now, it’s over.” Hayden scooped her up horizontally, his expression anxious as he rushed toward the emergency room. “Doctor! Get a doctor over here!!” From beginning to end, he never looked back. Never looked at me once. I lay on the cold floor, clutching my agonizing abdomen, watching Hayden’s back as he ran frantically carrying Grace. My vision gradually blurred. That knife had cut my arm, but it felt like it stabbed into my heart, shredding those remaining, ridiculous traces of love to pieces. The noisy voices around me gradually faded. I closed my eyes, a painfully bleak smile forming at the corner of my mouth. Hayden, this time, you made your own choice.

Vienna’s POV I was sent to the wound cleaning room by a nurse. The cut on my arm was deep, flesh torn open, but I didn’t make a sound as the doctor stitched it. Through the wall in the VIP ward, Grace’s tearful voice came through clearly: “Hayden, I was so scared… I thought I’d never see you again…” “It’s okay now. I’m here.” Hayden’s voice was low and gentle. “Did you get hurt anywhere? Let me have the doctor check again?” “No need. As long as you hold me, it doesn’t hurt anymore.” One wall apart, I watched the nurse cut the suture thread. The last bit of feeling in my heart was also cruelly severed. That was my husband. When I was covered in blood, he was holding the culprit, tenderly comforting her. He didn’t even ask “where is she.” When heartache reaches its extreme, it truly becomes numbness. After bandaging the wound, I refused the recommendation to stay for observation and left the hospital alone. I returned to the hillside villa. This was the home I’d shared with Hayden for four years of marriage. But the moment I opened the door, a strange perfume smell hit me in the face, sickly sweet and nauseating. I rushed upstairs. In the master bedroom, the simple curtains I’d carefully selected had been replaced with Grace’s favorite lace pink. The cherished wedding photo at the bedside was gone, replaced by an artistic photo of Grace. The study was even worse-a complete mess. With trembling hands, I pulled open a drawer. This was where I kept my brother’s belongings. My brother’s diary from when he was alive. His award certificates. That broken watch found in the ruins. All of it, gone. In their place were Grace’s fashion magazines and cosmetics, brazenly filling the corner that once belonged to that young man. “Looking for this?” A mocking voice came from the doorway. Grace leaned against the doorframe, holding a black garbage bag like it was something filthy. “Your dead brother’s stuff-I found it unlucky, so I had the servants throw it in the backyard to feed the dogs.” “Grace!!” My rationality completely snapped in that moment. I rushed forward to grab the bag, but Grace dodged sideways. The garbage bag hit the floor with a “smack,” its contents scattering everywhere. The watch shattered into pieces. Grace stepped on my brother’s award certificate and ground it with her foot, a vicious smile curling her lips: “Stop wasting your energy. Hayden said from now on, I’m the mistress of this house. I can throw away whatever I want. Not just this junk-even you will eventually be cleaned out like garbage.” “You’re asking for death!” I raised my hand and slapped Grace hard across the face. Grace’s face snapped to the side from the blow. But instead of fighting back, Grace suddenly grabbed my collar, pulling us both toward the staircase. Then, before I could react, Grace released her grip and shoved me hard! My foot slipped, my body falling backward uncontrollably. As I tumbled down, I instinctively protected my abdomen, but the violent impacts still felt like my organs were being displaced. Bang! I crashed heavily onto the first-floor marble floor. My forehead split open, blood instantly flowing down, my vision a sheet of red. “What’s going on?!” The door was pushed open. Hayden strode into the entrance. He immediately saw me on the floor, face covered in blood, and Grace standing at the top of the stairs, covering her face and “trembling.” The moment Grace saw Hayden, tears burst forth like a dam breaking. She stumbled down and threw herself into Hayden’s arms: “Hayden! She went crazy… I was just trying to help her tidy up the house, and she hit me and tried to push me down the stairs… If I hadn’t grabbed the railing, I’d be the one on the floor now…” Hayden looked at Grace’s swollen face, then at me on the floor. “Vienna! You’re absolutely unreasonable!” He strode over to me, looking down from above. “Grace is already in poor health, and you’d be so vicious toward her? Where has your upbringing gone?” I lay on the floor, my whole body in bone-shattering pain. My lower abdomen sent waves of suffocating, sinking sensations. I struggled to lift my head, looking through blood-blurred eyes at this man: “It was her… she threw away my brother’s belongings… it was her who pushed me…” “Enough!” Hayden cut me off sharply, his face full of disgust. “You’re still lying! Grace wouldn’t even step on an ant-how could she push you? But you-what have you become!” With that, he didn’t even look at the blood pooling beneath me. He turned and scooped up the “frightened” Grace in his arms. “Hayden, my face hurts so much… am I disfigured?” Grace curled in his embrace, crying her eyes out. “You won’t be. I’ll take you to a doctor-the best doctor.” Hayden’s voice instantly became gentle, as if the furious man from moments ago was my hallucination. He strode out the door carrying Grace, leaving me only a resolute, cold back. The villa’s main door stood open. The late autumn wind poured in. I lay on the floor, a pool of glaring blood gradually spreading beneath me.

Vienna’s POV When I opened my eyes again, it was that suffocating white once more. The smell of disinfectant drilled into my nostrils. I moved my fingers and discovered someone was tightly gripping my hand. Hayden sat by the bed, his eyes full of bloodshot veins, his chin sprouting dark stubble. His entire being radiated a decadent, broken feeling. Seeing me awake, the joy in his eyes hadn’t yet fully bloomed before it was drowned by thick guilt and pain. “Vienna, you’re awake…” His voice was hoarse. The hand gripping mine was trembling, his eyes instantly rimming red. “Why…why did you hide it from me? If I’d known you were pregnant, I never would have treated you like that. That was my child too…” I looked at him. I gently pulled my hand back and rubbed it against the sheet. “Tell you?” My voice was hoarse. “When? At the hospital, while you held Grace and wiped her lipstick? At the elevator, while you pushed me toward a knife to save her? Or maybe…when Grace shoved me down the stairs?” Hayden froze. He opened his mouth but couldn’t make a sound. “I…” Hayden awkwardly turned his face away. “I know I wronged you, but I really didn’t know… I’m devastated too. That was the child we’d hoped for for four years.” He paused, then explained: “Besides, Grace didn’t mean it. She was just too frightened, so she accidentally pushed you. You also slapped her-her face is still swollen… Let’s just let this matter go, okay? We’re still young. We can have children later.” Let it go? A human life, plus my brother’s belongings-in his mouth, could all be dismissed with “you also slapped her”? Ridiculous and pathetic. I closed my eyes, not even having the strength to mock: “Get out.” Hayden didn’t leave. Perhaps to make up for the guilt in his heart, over the next few days he set aside all company business and stayed by my hospital room without leaving. Hayden, who had never taken care of anyone, learned to test the temperature of my porridge and feed me himself. He learned to peel apples in one perfect strip. He even had expensive supplements stewed and coaxed me to drink them three times a day. “Vienna, this just arrived from home. The temperature is perfect. Have a sip.” I leaned against the headboard, staring at the withered yellow leaves outside the window. Just then, Hayden’s phone on the bedside table vibrated again. This was already the fifth time today. Hayden glanced at the caller ID, his brow furrowing slightly, but he still answered. “Hayden…” Grace’s weak, tearful voice was especially clear in the quiet hospital room. “I had a nightmare. I dreamed that psycho was chasing me with a knife… I’m so scared. Can you come back and keep me company?” The previous times it was “dizziness,” “wound pain,” “the power went out at home.”The reasons varied wildly, but the goal was only one-she wanted to prove she could summon him away at any time. Hayden glanced at me, somewhat hesitant: “Grace, I’m at the hospital…” “Don’t come! Hayden, save me!” A scream suddenly came through the phone, followed by a crash of things shattering. Hayden’s expression changed drastically. He stood up abruptly: “Grace?! What happened? Don’t be scared, I’ll be right back!” He hung up, hastily set the still-steaming nutritional supplement on the table, and looked at me somewhat flustered: “Vienna, something seems to have happened with Grace. I need to check on her. Eat while it’s hot. I’ll come back after I handle this.” With that, he grabbed his coat and rushed out of the hospital room like the wind, not even waiting for my response. The door swung shut, bringing in a gust of cold air. I slowly turned my head and looked at the bowl of soup on the table, growing cold. It was always like this. The moment Grace crooked her finger, his guilt, his promises, his vows all became a joke. Gone in an instant. I picked up the bowl and poured it into the trash. Cold food, I don’t eat. Dirty men, I don’t want either

Vienna’s POV On discharge day, the sky was terribly overcast, much like my current mood. My phone vibrated. It was an automated text from the marriage registration system: [Your divorce application has been successfully submitted.] Looking at that message, I even found it somewhat ironic. Four years of marriage, ending so quickly. I didn’t hesitate. I opened the ticket booking app and purchased a one-way ticket to Manhattan for a month from now. The timing was perfect-the early morning of the day after the divorce would be finalized. This time, I was truly leaving. Clean and thorough, leaving no retreat. Dragging simple luggage back to the villa, I just wanted to pack the last of my personal belongings and take them with me. However, the moment I pushed open the door, that familiar suffocating feeling hit me again. The living room was brightly lit. Grace, wearing a silk robe, was directing servants to change the carpet colors like a mistress of the house. Hayden sat on the nearby sofa reviewing documents. Though fatigue showed on his face, he didn’t stop Grace from ordering everyone around. When she saw me enter, Grace froze for a moment. Then she immediately put on a timid look and scurried behind Hayden in small steps, hiding like a mouse that had spotted a cat. “You’re back.” Hayden set down the documents. Seeing me, a trace of concern flashed in his eyes. He instinctively stood to help me. “Vienna, why didn’t you call me to pick you up from the hospital? Are you feeling better?” I sidestepped his hand and headed upstairs. “No need. I’m just back to pack my things.” “Pack your things?” Hayden’s expression darkened. “Where are you going? This is your home. How long are you going to keep this up?” “Home?” My steps paused slightly. Looking at Grace in her robe, I smiled. “Since another woman lives here, this isn’t my home.” “Don’t misunderstand…” Grace suddenly emerged from behind Hayden, her eyes red-rimmed, looking like she’d suffered great injustice but still had to consider the bigger picture. “I know I was wrong before. I shouldn’t have touched your brother’s belongings, and I shouldn’t have accidentally pushed you… I’ve felt terrible about it these days. I’ve been staying in the guest room, waiting for you to come back so I could apologize to you in person.” As she spoke, she observed Hayden’s expression. “Hayden told me it’s your birthday at the end of the month. I thought, to express my apology, why don’t I organize a big, lively birthday party for you at the villa? How about that?” Grace stepped forward and continued. “I’ll invite all of Hayden’s circle of friends. That way, I can formally apologize to you in front of everyone and help you calm down.” A birthday party? An apology? I found it absurd. How could someone like Grace ever sincerely apologize? She just wanted to use the birthday party as an excuse to assert her dominance in front of everyone again, or she was plotting some nasty scheme to humiliate me. “Not interested.” After saying this, I lifted my foot to leave. “Vienna!” But Hayden called out to me, his tone carrying helplessness and persuasion. “Grace means well. She knows she was wrong and has been trying to make amends these past few days. Your birthday is coming up. Everyone gathering together, having fun, clearing up past misunderstandings-wouldn’t that be good?” He paused, walked a few steps closer, his voice low. “Besides, I want to give you a proper birthday. Too much has happened recently. We both need a fresh start.” Looking at the man’s matter-of-fact expression before me, I only felt my stomach churn. A chance? Where was there any chance left between us? In another month, we’d be strangers. I really wanted to throw that divorce application in his face, wanted to loudly tell him Grace’s true nature. But seeing the provocative gleam in Grace’s eyes, and then Hayden’s attitude, I suddenly felt exhausted. If I refused now or made a scene, Hayden would just call me “unreasonable” again. “Petty.” Then came the endless arguments, the dragging on. Only a month left. I didn’t want to waste my last days on fights that didn’t matter. “Do whatever you want.” I lowered my eyes. “I’ll show up. That’s it.” With that, I didn’t spare them another glance. I went straight upstairs and closed the door. From downstairs came Grace’s delighted squeal. “Wonderful, Hayden! She’s finally willing to forgive me! I’m going to make this party absolutely spectacular!” I leaned against the door, listening to that grating laughter, and slowly closed my eyes. Go ahead and plan it. Consider it the final act of this absurd marriage.

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New Year’s Eve. I was thrown out of the hospital. Snow was falling heavily outside. My father’s sponsored student posted on Instagram: “Thank you, Dr. Bennett, for giving the only ICU bed to my mom.” I thought she was just showing off. “Dad, I just had surgery and my wound split open. It really hurts. Can I please go back to my room?” A voice came through the phone: “Aria, how can you fight Linda’s mom for a bed? You just have a superficial wound, but Linda’s mom has a heart condition!” “The hospital’s short on beds. You’re the director’s daughter—if you refuse to leave, what will people think of me? We need to be fair!” I looked at the blood-soaked gauze and lowered my hand: “I understand. I won’t make things difficult for you anymore.” I sat in the snow all night. This time, I really didn’t embarrass him. New Year’s Eve. The snow was heavy. I sat on the edge of a flower bed outside the inpatient building, looking down at my phone. The screen was lit up, showing a post Linda had made a minute ago. The photo showed her in the ICU holding Marcus’s hand by a hospital bed, with the caption: “Thank you, Dr. Bennett, for giving the only ICU bed to my mom.” I turned off the screen. My abdominal wound had split open. Blood was seeping out, soaking through the gauze. Half an hour earlier. A nurse had been rushing me, bleeding heavily post-surgery, toward the ICU. Marcus reached out and stopped the bed. He didn’t look at the medical chart—just pointed at the woman who had just been wheeled in behind him: Linda’s mother. “Transfer her to a regular room. There are no beds available here.” The nurse said: “Marcus, Aria is hemorrhaging badly. All her vitals are dropping. The regular ward doesn’t have monitoring equipment—she could die!” Marcus flipped through Linda’s mother’s medical file without looking up. “She just has a superficial wound. She won’t die. Linda’s mom has a heart condition—she can’t handle any stress.” I reached out and grabbed the hem of his white coat. “Dad, it hurts.” I pulled back the blanket, trying to show him my still-bleeding wound. He shook off my hand. “Aria, you’re a grown woman. How can you fight an elder for a bed?” “Linda’s still a student—her mom is all she has. You’re the director’s daughter. If you refuse to leave, what will people think of me? We need to avoid any appearance of impropriety!” Avoid any appearance of impropriety. Those words again. Linda came running out of the room, crying: “Mr. Bennett, my mom stopped breathing!” Marcus turned and rushed inside. He waved at the security guard outside: “Clear out anyone unnecessary. Don’t interfere with the emergency treatment.” The security guard came over and grabbed my arms. The nurse tried to stop him, but Marcus glared at her through the glass door. I was dragged into the elevator and thrown out of the building. The security guard said: “Miss, don’t make this hard on us. Marcus said you need to clear your head.” I fell into the snow. My phone slid out of my pocket and hit the ground. I tried to call 911, but my fingers were too stiff to unlock the screen. Blood ran down my thighs, congealing into a dark brown stain in the snow. So cold. I remembered the New Year when Mom died. It had been snowing heavily that day too. Mom had a sudden cerebral hemorrhage. I called Dad twenty times while he was at a parent-teacher conference. He didn’t answer. By the time he came home, Mom’s body had already gone rigid. He said: “Aria, you need to understand—those kids need me.” Now, I needed him too. My vision began to go dark. In the distance, someone was setting off fireworks. I dipped my finger in the blood pooling beneath me and wrote my name in the snow. My heart beat one last time. I floated upward. Looking down at my body curled up in the shadow of the flower bed. The hospital’s main door opened. Marcus ran out, wrapped in a coat. He didn’t look toward the flower bed. A news van pulled up at the entrance. A reporter held out a microphone. Linda stood beside her, carrying a thermos. Marcus straightened his tie and walked over to meet them. The reporter said: “Marcus, working on New Year’s Eve to help impoverished patients—what a model of medical compassion.” Marcus took the dumplings Linda handed him: “It’s just what I should do.” Linda smiled at the camera: “Mr. Bennett is the best doctor in the world.” I was less than thirty feet away from them. New snow was already covering my body.

The next day. The TV in the hospital lobby played the interview from last night on a loop. Marcus sat in his office, scrolling through online comments. All of them praised his “selflessness” and “benevolent medical ethics.” Linda pushed the door open, wearing that down jacket. It was the one I’d begged Marcus to buy me last year for my birthday. I hadn’t dared to wear it. I’d kept it hanging in my closet. Linda spun around: “Mr. Bennett, this jacket is so warm.” Marcus smiled: “It looks good on you. It didn’t suit Aria anyway.” I floated in midair, watching Linda slip her hand into my pocket. The duty nurse knocked and came in, carrying a dressing tray. Her eyes were evasive: “Marcus, Aria didn’t return to the regular ward last night, and she didn’t go home either. Her phone’s off. With all that snow, and her wound still needing to be dressed…” Marcus’s smile faded. “Ignore her.” He tossed his phone onto the desk. “She’s just being spoiled. She’s probably hiding at a friend’s place, trying to manipulate me with a pity act.” “Tell the nurses’ station—no one is to look for her. If she comes back, make her write an apology letter first.” The nurse opened her mouth but didn’t dare say more. She backed out. Linda walked over and massaged Marcus’s shoulders. “Mr. Bennett, don’t be angry. Aria probably just feels upset for the moment—like I took her place.” “Actually, I could sleep in the hallway. Let Aria come back to the single room.” Marcus patted Linda’s hand. “You’re too understanding. If she had even half your sense, I’d count my blessings.” “Oh, clear out the VIP room on the top floor for your mom.” I floated in front of him, wanting to scream. That was the room Mom had stayed in before she died. After Mom passed, I’d kept paying for that room myself. It was filled with Mom’s belongings and photos. It was my last home. Marcus pressed the intercom button: “Housekeeping? Go to VIP Room 1 on the top floor. Clear out everything inside. Immediately.” I followed the cleaning staff upstairs. They grabbed trash bags and swept away the photo frames, stuffed animals, and paintings. The glass in the frames shattered, stabbing into Mom’s photos. It was our only family portrait. I reached out to grab it, but my hand passed through the trash bag. The cleaning woman tied the bag shut, dragged it to the stairwell, and threw it in the bin. “This family is heartless. Throwing away such nice things without a second thought.” Linda helped her mother into the room. Her mother sighed: “Talk about a blessing in disguise. Marcus is so good to us.” Marcus’s phone rang. A video call from his sister,Nancy. Marcus put it on speaker. Nancy’s voice came through: “Marcus, where’s Aria? She didn’t come see me for New Year’s, didn’t even send a gift. She’s getting more and more rude!” Marcus snorted coldly: “She’s throwing a tantrum at me right now. Fighting over a hospital bed, acting like she’s dying. Let her be.” Linda leaned into the camera: “Aria’s just being impulsive. Don’t blame her—it’s my fault.” Nancy laughed: “Linda’s the sensible one. Aria’s just spoiled rotten. Let her freeze outside for a while. Once she’s frozen through, she’ll know to come home!” Marcus hung up and sent a message. I floated outside the window, watching those words appear in the chat: “If you don’t get back here and apologize to Linda, you’re paying your own medical bills from now on! Don’t expect me to give you another cent!” In that moment, I felt only relief. Relief that I was already dead. I wouldn’t have to go home. I wouldn’t have to see him. I wouldn’t have to work to pay medical bills. The dead don’t need medical bills.

Linda wandered around the room. She pulled open the bottom drawer of the bedside table. There was a hidden compartment that the cleaning staff had missed. Linda pulled out a box. Inside was a diamond necklace. It was the coming-of-age gift Mom had left me—the last thing she’d put around my neck with her own hands before she lost consciousness. To raise money for surgery, I’d pawned it. The day before my operation, I’d begged the pawn shop owner and bought it back, hiding it here. Linda’s eyes lit up. She pulled out the necklace and held it against her neck. “Mr. Bennett, look at this.” Marcus was reading the newspaper. He glanced over. “That’s from Aria’s mother. I think it’s worth quite a bit.” Linda bit her lip and put down the necklace. “Then I should give it back to Aria. I’m going to my high school reunion tonight, and everyone else has jewelry to wear except me… but it’s fine. I’m not afraid of looking poor.” Marcus put down the paper. “Wear it.” “Aria’s not here anyway. It’ll just collect dust.” I lunged forward, trying to knock over the box. It was useless. Linda put on the necklace, admiring herself in the mirror from every angle. “Thank you, Mr. Bennett! I knew you were the best to me!” The head nurse pushed open the door with medicine. She immediately spotted the necklace around Linda’s neck. The medicine tray clattered to the floor. The head nurse rushed over and grabbed Linda’s wrist: “Take it off! That was left to Aria by her mother. How dare you wear it?!” Linda scrambled behind Marcus. “Mr. Bennett, she’s hurting me…” Marcus stood up and pushed the head nurse away. “What do you think you’re doing? This is my family’s business!” The head nurse’s eyes turned red. She pointed at Marcus: “Marcus, are you even human? That’s Aria’s most precious possession! Yesterday you threw her out in a blizzard, and today you’re giving her mother’s belongings to a stranger?” Marcus’s face darkened. He straightened his cuffs. “I’m her father. I have the right to handle anything in this household.” “Besides, it’s just a necklace. What’s wrong with lending it to Linda for a couple days? If Aria can’t even be that generous, she doesn’t deserve to be my daughter!” The head nurse trembled with rage: “Fine. Marcus, you’re going to regret this.” The head nurse slammed the door on her way out. Marcus turned to comfort Linda: “Don’t listen to her. Wear it out tonight. When you’re done, bring it back.” Linda broke into a smile and pulled out her phone to take a selfie. She posted it on Instagram. Photo: the diamond necklace around her neck. Caption: “New Year’s gift from Mr. Bennett, love you~ Some people just have bad luck and can’t hold onto things.” This post wasn’t hidden from my old classmates. Ten minutes later, my college roommate commented: “That’s Aria’s mother’s heirloom! Are you a thief? Where’s Aria? Let her come out and tear your face off!” Linda deleted the comment and blocked my college roommate. She showed Marcus: “Mr. Bennett, Aria’s friend is cursing at me online, calling me a thief.” Marcus glanced at the screenshot and gripped his phone tightly. “Birds of a feather. What kind of ill-mannered friends is Aria making?” He picked up his phone and called the bank. “Freeze the secondary card under Aria Bennett’s name. Yes, freeze it immediately.” “If she doesn’t learn her lesson, she won’t understand who runs this household.” That card held thirty thousand dollars I’d saved from working. It was also the money I would have used to buy anti-rejection medication if I hadn’t died. Now, the money was gone. And so was I. Perfect.

Day three. Dr. Smith, the attending physician, came back from vacation. He entered the room, saw the empty bed and Linda’s mother eating an apple in the next bed, and his expression changed. He stormed into the director’s office. “Marcus, where’s Aria?!” Marcus was writing a report. He didn’t look up: “She went home in a huff. What, do I need to go beg her to come back?” Dr. Smith slammed the medical file on the desk. “Went home? She’s on day four post-op, her rejection markers are triple the safe level, she has coagulation dysfunction, she could have internal bleeding at any moment! In her condition, being away from monitoring equipment means death! And you let her go home?” Marcus stopped writing and took off his glasses. “Dr. Smith, are you helping her lie to me too?” “When she left last night, she could run and jump, and she was talking back to me—her voice was louder than mine. What internal bleeding?” “She just wants to stay in the hospital and take up public resources. I’m the director—I need to set an example. I can’t let family members get special treatment.” Dr. Smith laughed bitterly. “Marcus, in your obsession with avoiding impropriety, have you lost your mind? That’s your own daughter! I’m calling the police right now.” Dr. Smith pulled out his phone. Linda pushed open the door. “Dr. Smith, don’t call the police. Aria’s fine.” She pulled out a phone and opened a video. The background was heavy snow. A figure stood up from the snow, took a few steps, and walked out of frame. Though the face wasn’t clear, the hospital gown was mine. Linda said: “I shot this last night on my way back to school. Aria fell down, but she got right back up and walked away. If something was really wrong, how could she walk?” I knew that moment. That was the surge before death. I walked five steps, collapsed, and never got up again. The video only showed those first five steps. Marcus pointed at the screen and laughed coldly. “See that? This is what you call ‘about to die’?” “To force me to give in, she’s even learned to fake her death? What a disgrace to this family!” Dr. Smith froze. He looked at the video, then at Marcus, and put down his phone. “Fine. Since she’s okay, I’m staying out of it. Marcus, you’d better pray she really is okay.” Dr. Smith left. Marcus posted the video in the hospital group chat. Caption: “This is my ‘good daughter,’ conspiring with doctors to put on a show to fight for a bed. I, Marcus Bennett, will never tolerate this kind of abuse of privilege!” The group flooded with approval. “Dr. Bennett is so fair!” “Support Dr. Bennett!” At the same time, an anonymous post appeared on the hospital forum. Title: “Director’s Daughter Fights for Bed, Forces Poor Student to Kneel on New Year’s Eve, Gets Thrown Out by Her Own Father!” The post described how domineering I was, how pitiful Linda was, and how Marcus handled it. Below it, thousands of comments—all cursing me. “Why doesn’t someone like this just die?” “With a heart that vicious, she deserves to have her wound split open.” Marcus replied under the post with his real account: “I failed to raise her properly. I apologize for the spectacle. I’ve frozen her card to make her reflect.” This reply pushed the post to the top of the local trending list. I watched Marcus stare at the computer screen, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. Outside the hospital flower bed. When the janitor, Joe, was clearing snow, his shovel hit something hard. He dug down and found a hand. Joe fell backward in fright, about to call the police. Linda happened to be walking by—she was picking up a food delivery at the back gate. She immediately recognized the bracelet on that hand. It was the bracelet Mom had woven for me. Linda went pale. She rushed over and pressed down on Joe’s hand. “Don’t call the police!” She pulled out a stack of cash from her bag. “That’s a discarded mannequin from the hospital. Sorry it scared you. Take this money and buy yourself a drink, but please don’t tell anyone. If word gets out that the hospital’s dumping medical waste, Mr. Bennett will get in trouble again.” Joe looked at the money, then at Linda. “It’s really a dummy?” “It really is. I’ll get someone to haul it away and dispose of it right now.” Joe took the money and left. Linda stood by the snow pile. She looked at the fingers sticking out from under the snow, bit her lip, and kicked more snow over them to cover them again. “Aria, don’t blame me.” “Mr. Bennett is about to be promoted to full director. Nothing can go wrong right now.” “Just think of it as helping us one more time.” I floated above her head, watching her tremble as she covered the snow. Linda, you’re finished.

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To murder my husband Ethan, I spent a full year preparing. I smiled as I sent my husband off on his mountain expedition. I had secretly swapped his GPS for a model that would never send out a signal, ensuring he’d disappear forever in the remote mountain region. I calmly calculated the time it would take for him to get lost, succumb to hypothermia, and finally die of exhaustion. The plan was perfect. I had even prepared the eulogy for his funeral. Ten days later, the rescue team called with news cold and piercing: “Miss Bailey, we found your husband. But there’s another body with him.” 0 The phone rang while I was pruning a dying pothos plant. It was Ethan’s favorite plant. He said green represented vitality and would bring good fortune to his career. What he didn’t know was that I watered its roots with boiling water every single day. I watched it wither day by day, just like watching Ethan’s life slowly drain away in those snowy mountains. The caller ID showed an unknown number from the province where Ethan had gone climbing. Here it comes. My heart pounded wildly—not from fear, but from a long-suppressed joy about to burst forth. I took a deep breath, letting my voice take on just the right amount of hoarseness and trembling, like the result of countless nights crying myself to sleep. “Hello?” The voice on the other end was steady and cold, with official detachment. “Is this Victoria Bailey? We’re from the mountain rescue team.” I covered my mouth, squeezing out broken sobs, perfectly mimicking a wife anxiously awaiting news of her husband. “Yes… yes, it’s me! Is there… is there news about my husband Ethan?” The person on the other end fell silent for a moment, as if choosing their words carefully. “Yes, Miss Bailey. We found your husband.” Found him. Those three words were like a key, instantly unlocking the cellar in my heart. Countless fireworks exploded in my mind, each one blooming with the word “freedom.” I almost laughed out loud, quickly covering it with more violent sobbing. “Is he… is he okay?” I asked knowingly, savoring this final, cruel game. The other end fell silent again, this time for longer. “Miss Bailey, please accept our condolences. Mr. Ethan Cross is no longer showing vital signs.” My body went limp, and I slid down onto the carpet as if on cue, the phone falling from my hand with a dull thud. I let out a heart-wrenching wail into the empty air. You have to play the part completely. The neighbor next door must have already heard my continuous crying these past few days. Now, this wail was the climax of this grand performance. I picked up the phone, continuing my performance with a voice hoarse from crying: “How could this… how could this happen… he said this route was safe…” “Miss Bailey.” The voice interrupted my performance, now carrying an unusual tone. “The situation at the scene is… complicated.” “There’s another body with him.” My heart sank abruptly. All the blood in my body seemed to freeze in an instant. Another body? That bitch! Ethan must have taken his mistress along for his pleasure trip! A sick sense of satisfaction surged through me, mixed with the humiliation of betrayal and the thrill of revenge. Good riddance! Serves them right! A pair of cheating scum should be buried together in the ice and snow, dying miserably! I suppressed my rising smile, asking with a trembling voice mixed with the humiliation and pain of a “victimized wife”: “Is it… is it a woman?” The man on the phone—who I later learned was a detective—fell silent once again. This time, his voice was colder than a Siberian blizzard. “It’s a male.” My brain went blank, every pore on my body standing on end from this sudden fear. Not a mistress? A man? Who could it be? In my plan, there had never been a second man. My plan—from surveying the route, calculating the weather, researching Ethan’s physical limits, to swapping the GPS—every single step had been rehearsed thousands of times. It should have been perfect. It should have gone smoothly. This extra man was like a bomb appearing out of nowhere, capable of destroying my entire world. Who was he? A friend Ethan had arranged to meet? Impossible. Ethan was arrogant and selfish, never traveling with others. He enjoyed the thrill of solo conquest. A random hiker who encountered trouble? Then why would he die together with Ethan? Or… did he know about my plan? This thought made my entire body go cold, my teeth chattering uncontrollably. My brain raced through the storm of fear. Countless possibilities flashed before my eyes, each one pointing to a fatal flaw in my plan that I couldn’t have anticipated. Struggling to maintain my composure, I asked with a trembling voice: “Who is he? How could he… how could he be with my husband?” The detective’s voice was emotionless: “Identity currently unknown, needs family identification. Also, Miss Bailey, you should come here as soon as possible. The situation is very… particular.” He emphasized the word “particular” heavily. After hanging up, I rushed to the bathroom, staring at my pale face in the mirror. On that face, the carefully constructed facade of grief I’d maintained for ten days showed its first hairline cracks. Fear climbed up from the depths of my heart like vines, wrapping tightly around my throat. I turned on the faucet, splashing ice-cold water on my face over and over, trying to calm myself down. Victoria, stay calm. You’ve planned this for a year. You can’t lose your composure now. No matter who that man is, he’s already dead. Dead men don’t talk. As long as you don’t say anything, no one will know about the GPS. Ethan’s death will only be an unfortunate climbing accident. Right, an accident. I repeated these two words to myself in the mirror until the fear on my face was replaced by numbness. I changed into black clothes, didn’t put on makeup, letting exhaustion and pallor become my best disguise. Before leaving, I took one last look at the pothos I’d personally killed. Its leaves had completely yellowed, lifeless. Perfect. It no longer had to pretend to be thriving. Just like me. 0

By the time I reached the city where the rescue team was located, it was already the next afternoon. The air was filled with a strange mixture of disinfectant and death. A detective was waiting for me at the entrance. He was a man in his forties, tall and muscular, with dark skin and eyes sharp as a hawk’s, as if they could see through to the darkest corners of one’s soul. He didn’t waste time on pleasantries, just looked me up and down before leading me toward the morgue. “Miss Bailey, our condolences.” He spoke, his voice even colder and harder than on the phone. “The scene inside may be disturbing. Please prepare yourself mentally.” I nodded. The morgue lights were a harsh, sterile white, with cold air invading from all directions, drilling into my bones. Two gurneys covered with white sheets stood side by side in the center. My heart began to pound uncontrollably. The detective walked to one of the beds, looking at me expressionlessly. I took a deep breath and walked forward. The moment the white sheet was pulled back, Ethan’s face—frozen blue-purple, expression grotesquely contorted—appeared before my eyes. His eyes were still open, filled with terror and unwillingness, as if he’d seen something extremely horrifying before death. My stomach churned violently, intense nausea surging up my throat. Not from grief, but from physiological revulsion. This face had appeared in countless nightmares. He would smile, saying the most venomous things in the gentlest tone. “Vicky, the fish you made today is too salty. You’re so stupid.” Then he’d pour scalding fish soup on the back of my hand. “Vicky, look at you, you can’t even mop the floor properly. What’s the point of marrying you?” Then he’d kick me in the stomach. “Vicky, are you thinking about that poor boy again? You’re nothing but a whore!” Then he’d burn shameful marks into my wrist with his cigarette. Now he was finally dead. Dead miserably, face unrecognizable. I should be happy. I had to appear devastated. I collapsed onto his body, letting out a piercing wail, my body trembling violently, retching continuously. The tears were real. They were tears of relief, five years of suppression finally released. The detective didn’t comfort me. He just stood there coldly, waiting for my emotions to settle slightly before pulling me away from Ethan’s corpse. Then he walked toward the other bed. “Miss Bailey, I need you to identify this person as well.” My heart leapt to my throat. The white sheet was pulled back, revealing a completely unfamiliar face. It was a man in his thirties, gaunt features, regular appearance, but his complexion equally blue-purple. Strangely, the corners of his mouth seemed to show relief, or perhaps satisfaction. I searched rapidly through my memory. This face—I was certain I’d never seen it before. I shook my head, my voice trembling with genuine fear: “No… I don’t know him. I’ve never seen him before.” This time the fear was from the heart. A strange man who died with a smile, alongside a husband with a grotesque expression. The image was too bizarre, like the opening of a horror film. The detective didn’t seem surprised by my reaction. He just nodded and signaled the medical examiner to cover the body again. He led me out of the morgue to an office. He poured me a cup of hot water, then retrieved a transparent evidence bag from a locked cabinet and pushed it in front of me. Inside the evidence bag lay something black that I knew all too well. The GPS model I’d swapped out—the one that could never send a distress signal. My heart skipped a beat, blood rushing to my head. My fingers tightened around the cup, but even the scalding water couldn’t dispel the ice in my palms. But on the surface, I remained composed, looking at him with confusion: “What is this?” “Ethan’s personal effects.” The detective stared directly into my eyes, each word like a nail hammering into my heart. “A GPS model, incapable of sending any signal. Miss Bailey, do you understand what this means?” I played the part of a wife innocent and ignorant about climbing equipment. “I don’t know… he really liked buying these outdoor things. We have a lot at home. I don’t understand them.” My voice sounded innocent and bewildered. The detective suddenly gave a cold laugh, that laugh filled with undisguised mockery. He pulled a second identical evidence bag from the cabinet and placed it heavily beside the first one. “Is that so? Because coincidentally, we found an identical one on the other deceased.” I felt the entire world spinning and collapsing before my eyes. Two identical GPS models. Two identical “murder weapons.” My “patent,” my supposedly perfect method of murder, had been copied. In an instant, I went from being a mastermind in control to someone trapped in a maze, unable to explain any of this. This was no longer a flawless murder. It was a bizarre mystery case that I couldn’t explain at all, one that sent chills to the bone. My hands and feet went ice-cold, my brain blank. The psychological defense I’d carefully constructed completely crumbled the moment I saw that second GPS model. 0

The interrogation room’s lights were harsh and glaring, stretching my shadow long, like a silent criminal. The detective sat across from me. He didn’t pound the table or shout. He just looked at me calmly with those sharp eyes. But every question he asked was like a precise scalpel, peeling away my disguise layer by layer, reaching my deepest secrets. “Miss Bailey, you used to enjoy climbing too, didn’t you?” He asked casually, as if making conversation. But alarm bells rang in my head. I’d never mentioned this to anyone, especially after marrying Ethan. How did he know? I steadied myself and admitted it: “Yes, I did it for a while in college. Later… after marriage, I never touched it again.” I tried to present the image of an ordinary woman bound by domestic life, who’d given up her hobbies. The detective nodded, seemingly accepting my explanation. “So you should be quite familiar with GPS and other outdoor equipment, correct?” Here it comes. His real purpose. My defense sounded weak: “Just superficial knowledge. I haven’t touched it in years. Equipment updates so fast now, I don’t understand it anymore.” I knew my background knowledge had already made me a prime suspect. No matter how much I denied it, in the police’s eyes, I had the expertise to commit a crime using specialized knowledge. The detective didn’t continue pressing on this point. He changed tactics, dropping a second bombshell. “We discovered that last month, you added a five-million-dollar accidental death policy for Mr. Cross. The beneficiary is you.” My heart sank to rock bottom. This insurance policy was the most important part of my plan. It was both my backup and the capital for my new life. But now it had become a blade pointed at my throat. “Yes… it was Ethan’s own request.” I forced myself to stay calm, searching for the most reasonable explanation. “He loved these extreme sports. He said it was for our family’s security.” I pushed the responsibility onto a dead man. Dead men can’t contradict. The detective smiled, that smile meaningful, seeing through everything. “Is that so? But we contacted the insurance company’s agent. He said you were the one who initiated contact, and you handled the entire process. He also mentioned that Mr. Cross himself seemed unaware of the policy’s specific terms.” My whole body went cold, as if all my blood had been drained. I hadn’t expected that bastard Ethan to discuss the insurance with outsiders. Or perhaps this was just the detective’s interrogation tactic, testing me. But I didn’t dare gamble. My silence, in the detective’s eyes, was admission. The worst was yet to come. A young officer walked in and handed a document to the detective. The detective glanced at it, then slammed the document heavily on the table in front of me. “Miss Bailey, our tech department recovered your home computer’s browsing history from the past three months.” My eyes fell on the document, which had printed out keywords I knew all too well and feared most. “Remote mountain climbing routes” “How long does hypothermia take to kill” “GPS signal blocking methods” “How climbing accidents are determined” Each word was like a red-hot chain, binding me tightly to the suspect’s chair. My supposed thoroughness, those traces I’d carefully erased during countless late nights, were nothing but a joke before professional forensic technology. They had become the rope to hang me, tightening ever more. The detective leaned forward, hands folded on the table, eyes sharp as blades. “Massive insurance payout, professional knowledge, motive for murder, and now two unexplainable GPS models. Miss Bailey, is there anything else you’d like to say?” My brain went blank. All my defenses and pretenses seemed so laughable and futile before this ironclad evidence. I was finished. My plan, my freedom, the new life I’d dreamed of—all would turn to nothing in this moment. Despair engulfed me like a tide. I could even feel the icy seawater rising over my head, depriving me of my last breath. 0

The interrogation reached a stalemate. I was like a butterfly caught in a spider’s web. No matter how I struggled, I couldn’t escape those layers upon layers of evidence. I gave up defending myself and chose silence. Because I knew the more I said, the more mistakes I’d make. Just as I was on the verge of despair, ready to accept this absurd fate, someone knocked on the interrogation room door. A young officer hurried in, leaned close to the detective’s ear and whispered something, then handed him a document. The detective took the document and scanned it quickly. His brow furrowed at first, then slowly relaxed, his eyes becoming extremely complex. He looked up at me, his gaze containing scrutiny, confusion, and something barely perceptible. He was silent for a long time, so long I thought time had stopped. Then he slowly spoke, his voice low and clear. “The other deceased’s identity has been confirmed.” My heart jumped violently, and my body involuntarily straightened. “His name was Marcus Reed.” Marcus Reed? I desperately searched this name in my mind but couldn’t find any related memories. A stranger. Completely unfamiliar. The detective seemed to see my confusion. He continued: “He was your husband Ethan’s former business partner.” “Three years ago, their company went bankrupt. Marcus shouldered all the debt. Shortly after, his wife, unable to bear the burden, jumped from a rooftop with their three-year-old daughter.” The detective’s voice was calm, as if recounting a story unrelated to him. But every word was like a boulder, slamming hard into my heart. Family destroyed, lives lost. Ethan again. Another wrong he’d committed. “We found this in Marcus’s clothing.” The detective pushed a photo toward me. In the photo was a letter, somewhat blurred from being soaked in snow melt. The paper was wrinkled and worn, but the handwriting remained clear, every stroke radiating bone-deep hatred. “Ethan, I’ve come for you. You destroyed everything I had. Now it’s my turn.” “Let’s go to hell together.” Signed: Marcus Reed. A suicide note. A declaration from an avenger. I stared at that photo, feeling like I’d been struck by lightning. Pure joy! Indescribable joy instantly swept through my entire body, dispersing all fear and despair. It was revenge! Another person’s revenge! Everything made sense now! The second GPS, the man who died with a smile, all the bizarre details—they all had a perfect explanation in this moment! It wasn’t that my plan had flaws. Another avenger had chosen the same method, the same time, to end the same demon’s life! This could explain the second GPS’s existence, could clear me of all suspicion! I looked up excitedly, my voice trembling slightly with excitement: “Did you see that? This proves everything has nothing to do with me! It was this Marcus… he killed Ethan and then committed suicide! It was him!” The light of hope was right before me. I could already see myself walking out of the police station, breathing free air. “Is that so?” The detective’s icy voice was like a bucket of ice water poured over my head, instantly extinguishing the flame that had just ignited in my heart. He interrupted me, his expression colder than ever before. He slammed another document heavily on the table. It was a printed, yellowed student record. In the upper right corner was a one-inch photo of me from my college days, young and naive. And below, on the roster of members for an outdoor climbing club called “Snow Peak,” next to my name was printed another name—Marcus Reed. I felt struck by thunder, my whole body rigid, unable to move. My brain buzzed. That obscure college club I’d forgotten in the corners of my memory, one I’d only attended a few times, emerged like a ghost that had lain dormant for years, dragging me into an even deeper abyss. I had absolutely no memory of such a person in the club. But there it was in black and white, irrefutable evidence. The detective leaned forward, elbows on the table, those sharp eyes locked onto me like a captured prey. His voice wasn’t loud, but every word was like final judgment, hammering heavily on my heart. “Miss Bailey, same college club, both experts in climbing and outdoor equipment, both harboring deep hatred for Ethan, both using the same obsessive, one-of-a-kind murder method.” He paused, each pause prolonging my suffering and torment. “Do you still dare claim that you and Marcus are just a coincidence?”

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Valentine’s night, I bought a sexy dress, put on exquisite makeup, and went to the bar to meet my husband. But I accidentally overheard his buddies asking him: “Wyatt, we pretend to be you and take turns holding hands and kissing your wife—she really won’t notice?” Wyatt blew out a smoke ring, unconcerned: “She has face blindness. She won’t notice.” “But let’s be clear upfront—play around all you want, but don’t sleep with her. I don’t do secondhand.” For the past three years, the people dating me, holding my hand, and kissing me were never Wyatt. Of course I knew. I also knew that for three years, the man who gripped my waist and tangled with me passionately every night wasn’t Wyatt either. That man was waiting for me at home right now. My phone rang just as Preston carried me out of the bathroom. His sweaty, damp chest pressed against my back as he pinned me against the floor-to-ceiling window, one hand gripping my chin to demand another kiss. Preston’s stamina was astonishing. No matter how many times we’d been together, I still couldn’t quite handle his tireless demands. I used the gap while catching my breath to poke his waist as a reminder: “Phone.” Only then did he pick up his phone and glance at it, cursing under his breath. He quickly flipped the phone face down, then gently lowered his head to kiss my earlobe. “Baby, I need to take this call.” Preston went out to the balcony. I silently threw on a robe and went downstairs, opened the car door, and got in. Through the car’s Bluetooth connected to Wyatt’s phone, his cold voice came through: “Switch with me tomorrow.” Preston laughed carelessly: “What, only three years and you already can’t bear to part with her?” Wyatt paused, apparently downing a drink, his voice somewhat heavy: “Not really. My grandfather’s birthday is tomorrow, I need to bring her. And just reminding you—it’s Lucas’s turn on Friday.” As soon as he finished speaking, a burst of laughter erupted: “Damn, Wyatt, you’re way too generous! You just got married and you’re already lending your wife out to your buddies to play with?” Wyatt blew out a smoke ring, unconcerned: “Blind box game, fair and square. She’s just Gianna—I can afford to lose her.” “But let’s be clear upfront—play around all you want, but don’t sleep with her. I don’t do secondhand.” Someone clicked their tongue. “What’s there to worry about? Who’d even want her?” “Though Gianna does have a nice body. Wyatt sent a photo in the group chat before of her right after her shower—it was pretty hot. None of you five were even a little tempted?” “I was pretty tempted.” Preston’s voice suddenly cut in. Wyatt’s side suddenly went quiet, the atmosphere turning strangely tense, making my spine crawl. “Playing around is fine, but I’m not becoming a homewrecker.” Preston said: “Though sleeping with her would actually work out—isn’t her birthday coming up in a few days? Weren’t you planning to reveal everything then?” The blaring music on the other end drowned out Preston’s voice. But I could still hear Vivian laughing by his ear. Vivian was Wyatt’s first love. I’d followed Wyatt around since childhood, watching him and Vivian go from acquaintances to lovers. But Wyatt’s grandfather, Mr. Anker, didn’t like her, declaring that if Wyatt continued with her, he’d revoke his inheritance rights. Only then did Wyatt agree to the arranged marriage with me. After nursing a crush for eighteen years, I’d finally achieved my dream, only to discover it was nothing but a game for these wealthy young masters. Vivian laughed in agreement: “Right, Wyatt? Her birthday’s in a few days—you guys should give her a big gift and tell her the truth.” “From the day you got married, you’ve all been taking turns playing with her… Now that I think about it, Gianna’s kind of like a bus—anyone can ride.” “Shut up.” Wyatt and Preston’s rebukes came simultaneously, and the other end of the line fell into silence again.

Preston said with a laugh: “She’s Wyatt’s wife after all. Not cool to provoke her like that.” “We won’t touch her. There’s no possibility of that.” Wyatt said something I couldn’t make out clearly—things got chaotic on that end, drowning out his voice. The call lasted fifteen minutes. I turned off the Bluetooth and got out of the car. That sharp pain had long since passed, now hidden beneath a calm surface. Fragmented and scattered, like ants gnawing away. As I headed upstairs, I ran into Preston on his way out. He seemed rushed, his clothes not even properly fastened, his exposed upper body covered in ambiguous scratches. Seeing me, he seemed to breathe a sigh of relief and pulled me into his arms. “Where’d you go, baby? I thought I’d lost you.” “Just went downstairs to throw out some trash.” I looked up, my palm against his cheek, fingertip landing on the mole at the corner of his eye. Wyatt had a mole in the same spot. Preston’s eyes darkened as my finger slid down, his Adam’s apple bobbing. The moment my fingertip touched the corner of his lips, he caught it in his mouth with a gentle bite. Preston had this habit—like a rabid dog, dedicated to leaving every mark of his possession on me. Even though this territory wasn’t his. Preston’s breathing gradually grew heavier, desire pooling in his eyes. He pressed me down onto the bed. I suddenly stopped his hand: “Wyatt, don’t use that. Let’s have a baby.” Preston’s pupils contracted as he stared at me fiercely. Preston was especially rough that night. I discovered Wyatt’s deception a few days before the wedding, when I received an anonymous video. The video was filmed in a private bar room, with Wyatt sitting beside Vivian. She suggested playing a blind box dating game, and a group of them drew lots that landed on me. Besides Wyatt, there were four other players. Preston was one of them. “Boring.” He impatiently kicked over the table and left the room cursing, “If you want to play, play without me.” Vivian laughed it off: “It’s fine, four people can still play. Just be careful. For Wyatt’s sake, don’t get her pregnant.” That was when I learned that the wedding I’d been anticipating for eighteen years was merely the opening signal for a game. My heart ached until I could barely breathe. That person sent me a message: [It’s not too late to cancel the wedding.] I ignored them, sitting in a daze staring at the video all night. In an arranged business marriage, I had no right to cancel the wedding. I still needed the Anker family’s help to establish my foothold in the Harrison family. The wedding proceeded as scheduled the next day. But before the ceremony even ended, Wyatt took a call and left. Preston was the one who came home that night. I have face blindness, but I’m not an idiot. After nursing a crush on Wyatt for eighteen years, how could I not recognize him? In my world, people fell into only three categories: Men, women, and Wyatt. That night, Preston stood with his arms crossed, looking at me mockingly and playfully. I remember he seemed about to say something, but before he could speak, I walked over and kissed him: “Wyatt, I knew you’d come back.” Everything after seemed to fall into place naturally. Four men took turns pretending to be Wyatt. Transferring huge sums to me five times a day, sending the same gifts five times over. We were like an ordinary married couple. Dating, holding hands, hugging, shopping, kissing. But at night, only Wyatt and Preston ever came home. Distinguishing between Wyatt and Preston was too easy. Wyatt wouldn’t touch me. Just one glance at me and he couldn’t hide the disgust in his eyes. Preston, on the other hand, never tired of it. He had all sorts of tricks and boundless energy. He’d patiently accompany me on mountain hikes covering thirty thousand steps, then still have energy to go at it until dawn when we got home. He loved to kiss me everywhere, inside and out, making me call him “husband,” then kissing me until I couldn’t catch my breath. “Baby, I really, really like you.” He’d whisper those words in my ear a million times each night, forcing me to respond. Later it turned into unwillingness. Sometimes I’d drift off to sleep in a daze. In my dreams, someone would trace my features, murmuring: “Why did you marry him when you knew he was deceiving you?” “Why won’t you divorce him? Do you love him that much?” I wanted to ask him too. Why he’d changed his mind and joined this game. I used him as Wyatt’s substitute—what did he use me as? I never asked, and Preston never answered. In my blurred world, there was now one more category: Preston.

Preston left early the next morning. The chaos in the house had been cleaned up spotlessly. Wyatt called me to come downstairs. When I opened the car door, Vivian was sitting next to Wyatt. She smiled at me provocatively: “Sorry, Gianna. I’m also going to visit Grandpa. You don’t mind, do you?” Before I could respond, Wyatt shot me a cold look: “Gianna, don’t make a scene.” I closed my eyes, ignoring Vivian’s provocation. Only after getting in the car did I ask Wyatt, “You didn’t buy me breakfast?” Wyatt froze. I deliberately smiled sweetly: “You forgot—when you woke up this morning, you said you were going to buy me breakfast.” I didn’t know what time Preston had left. But after hearing this, Wyatt’s face darkened. Vivian asked in surprise: “You two… slept together?” Her tone couldn’t hide her smugness. I didn’t answer, but looked at Wyatt with feigned surprise. Wyatt grunted in acknowledgment, his expression grim. He had a cigarette between his lips, about to light it. I poured oil on the fire, continuing: “Didn’t you say last night that you’d already quit smoking? Smoking’s bad for the baby—we’re going to start trying to conceive.” The cigarette fell to the ground. Cold fury surged in Wyatt’s dark eyes, as if ready to devour me. But Vivian laughed meaningfully: “Really? Then I’m very much looking forward to your baby.” I smiled graciously, looking at Wyatt with a blush: “I’m looking forward to it too. To us having a complete family.” Wyatt was visibly irritated. His irritation peaked when Preston appeared. Preston had his hands in his pockets with an expression that showed he was enjoying the drama. With him were several other people I couldn’t distinguish. But judging by Preston’s demeanor, they should be the other three who impersonated Wyatt. “Wyatt, aren’t you going to introduce us?” I held onto his arm, “Are they your friends too?” “Preston.” Before Wyatt could speak, Preston extended his hand to me, “Nice to meet you.” He deliberately emphasized his tone. Sometimes in bed, when Preston played certain games, he’d also deliberately call my name. Hearing him say it now created an indescribable sense of intimacy. Wyatt knocked my hand away and pulled Preston outside. The smugness in Vivian’s eyes grew more obvious. She smiled at me: “Gianna, doesn’t Wyatt have a terrible temper? Only I know him well enough that he treats me better.” “Not that terrible.” I smiled, going along with her words, “He’s been really good to me lately.” Vivian burst out laughing. The others joined in the laughter. I felt very uncomfortable among this group. Just then I received another anonymous message from that person: [Come to the back garden.] I left half-believing, half-doubting. I hadn’t walked far when I heard Wyatt’s interrogation from behind the artificial rock formation: “You touched her? Why is she talking about trying for a baby?” Preston leaned lazily against a tree, hands in his pockets: “What, can’t bear to part with her now?” “She’s my wife!” Wyatt grabbed his collar in frustration. “I didn’t touch her.” Preston impatiently brushed off his hand: “But so what if I did? She won’t figure it out anyway. Even if she does find out, worst case is divorce. If you divorce her, wouldn’t you be free to be with Vivian?” Wyatt hesitated, irritably reaching for a cigarette. But thinking of something, he put it back. “You’re not planning to divorce her anymore?” Preston narrowed his eyes, his voice turning cold, “Not afraid Gianna will get angry when she finds out?” “She won’t,” Wyatt said with certainty, “She loves me very much. She won’t get angry. After her birthday in a few days, when the game ends, I’ll settle down and live properly with her.” “Either way, don’t touch her. If Gianna wants a child, I’ll give her one. Consider it compensation for deceiving her these three years.” “What about Vivian?” Wyatt didn’t answer. I looked down at my phone, at the divorce agreement the lawyer had sent to my email. Before the wedding, I had thought about living a proper life with him. I didn’t even need him to love me—mutual respect would have been enough. From learning the truth until the wedding day, I gave him chance after chance to confess to me voluntarily. But he never did. Three years had passed, whether with Wyatt or with Preston. I was tired of this game too.

After dinner, Wyatt and I went home together. As he leaned over to fasten my seatbelt, his phone lit up. Wyatt just glanced at it before getting out to take the call. I watched Wyatt walk farther away and turned on the car’s Bluetooth. Vivian’s pleading voice came through: “Wyatt, can you come keep me company tonight? You’ve been looking at Gianna all day—I’m getting jealous.” “Don’t talk nonsense.” Wyatt frowned, “I’m married.” “So what? It’s just a game anyway. You’re not really going to tie yourself to her for life, are you?” Vivian dismissed it, continuing to whine: “Just have Preston go to Gianna. She’s face-blind anyway, she can’t tell the difference. Please?” Vivian’s wheedling worked. After hanging up, Wyatt looked down, apparently texting someone. Before long, he glanced back at me once, walked out of my line of sight, and when he returned, he’d become Preston. As soon as Preston got in the car, he cupped the back of my head. He kissed me until I could barely breathe. I gasped and tried to dodge. He came closer again, kissing from the corner of my eye to the corner of my mouth. His hands weren’t behaving either, sliding up under my skirt. “Baby, how about we try it in the car?” The way Preston looked at me was always sticky and intense. I pushed his hand away and turned my head to avoid him: “Don’t touch me.” Preston froze, then sneered: “Used me and now you don’t recognize me.” I ignored him the whole way home. That day onwards, Wyatt didn’t come back for a long time. Preston and the other three took turns impersonating him to keep me company. Dating, watching movies, shopping, giving me gifts. I calmly accepted everything. Everything seemed normal. I squeezed out a day to meet with a lawyer about the divorce. After the lawyer left, I sat there for a long time, my hand resting on my lower abdomen. I didn’t know. Whether my impulsive decision to have this child was the right one. A shadow suddenly fell before me. Before that hand could reach over, I quickly snatched the divorce agreement from the table. “What’s that, being so secretive? Baby, you didn’t sell the company behind my back, did you?” “If you did, that’s fine too. Call me over and I’ll help you count the money.” Preston pulled out a chair and sat beside me, reaching to hold me. I instinctively dodged. His hand froze in midair. He mocked himself, half-serious, half-joking: “Great, looks like I’ve fallen out of favor.” “Others get the seven-year itch, but we’re only at three years and you’re already bored.” “Was that guy just now the new one? Want me to chase him down and call him back?” As he spoke, he started to get up. I quickly grabbed him, glaring: “Be serious.” Preston pressed his advantage, patting his thigh. He was used to fooling around—I was genuinely worried he’d make a scene. I put the divorce agreement back in my bag and reluctantly walked over. Preston looked up, pinching my cheeks as he asked: “Alright, what have you been mad at me about these past few days?” This was different from Wyatt. Whatever happened, Preston always wanted to talk it through with me. But this time, between us. With lies and deception between us, with tangled, indescribable feelings. There was nothing left to say. “Because I brought Vivian to the old house last time?” Preston guessed one reason after another, “Or because I got cake for Vivian that day and ignored you?” I shook my head. Vivian’s voice dropped down at that moment: “Oh my, if it isn’t Gianna, and this is…” I looked up at her voice, just in time to see Wyatt holding hands with her.

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In my past life, Vivian, the girl I had a crush on, was discovered to be seven weeks pregnant during a school medical exam. After the school found out, they immediately informed her parents. The next day, Vivian’s mother stormed onto campus and, in front of all the teachers and students, grabbed Vivian’s arm and tried to force her to marry a sixty-year-old bachelor. I couldn’t bear to see her hurt, so I stepped forward and claimed that the child in Vivian’s belly was mine. Because of this, I became the laughingstock of the entire school and dropped out. Later, Vivian heard that another girl at school had also gotten pregnant before marriage, but she had married Wesley, a rich kid. That very night, while I was sleeping, Vivian stabbed me in the stomach with a knife, her face twisted with rage. “If you hadn’t taken advantage of my situation and married me, you worthless piece of trash, I’d be the one married into wealth right now. Go to hell!” So she thought I had taken advantage of her situation when I married her. When I opened my eyes again, I had been reborn to the day Vivian got pregnant.

“James, something huge just happened at the medical exam station. Vivian from our class is seven weeks pregnant. James, do you know whose child it is?” My roommate John’s fragmented words reached my ears, pulling me back from the terror of death. But I clearly remembered my past life. Because I had admitted to getting Vivian pregnant, I became the object of everyone’s ridicule. My parents were disgraced because of me and attacked by public opinion online. My dad was fired by his construction site boss, and my mom developed late-stage cancer. Not a single relative was willing to lend money to a rapist’s family. My entire family was completely bled dry by Vivian and her family. Thinking of this, I couldn’t help but pull my lips into a mocking smile. I never expected to be reborn. Back to the day my roommate told me about Vivian’s pregnancy. This time, I would never take the blame for Vivian again. I shrugged at John and said, “How would I know whose child it is?” Hearing my words, John put his hand on my shoulder. “James, do you want to come with me to see the drama with Vivian?” As soon as he finished speaking, John suddenly realized something and quickly covered his mouth. “Sorry, James. I forgot you used to like Vivian so much. If you don’t want to go with me, I’ll just go by myself.” Looking at John, I remembered that in my past life when my mom got sick, he was the only one who lent me money and generously told me I could pay him back whenever I wanted. Thinking of this, my eyes instantly welled up with tears. Seeing me cry, John thought I was upset about Vivian and said to me in a panic: “Don’t be sad. That woman Vivian isn’t worth your affection. I really don’t know what to do with you. I’ll treat you to dinner after school today.” Hearing John’s words, I shook my head at him. “John, I’m fine.” “I want to see Vivian too. Don’t worry, I don’t like Vivian anymore.” Hearing that I said I was fine, John finally felt relieved. When we arrived at the infirmary, we heard my former mother-in-law arguing with the teacher inside.

When Vivian saw me arrive, she immediately stood up and said to me: “James, what are you doing here? Are you here to tell everyone that the child in my belly is yours? I won’t be fooled by you again this time. When Wesley’s parents find out I’m pregnant with their grandchild, I’ll be the one marrying into wealth this life!” And my former mother-in-law Ruth looked at me with disgust. “A worthless person like you doesn’t deserve to marry my daughter.” “My daughter is going to be a rich man’s wife in the future. I advise you teachers at this school to start sucking up to my daughter, or after she marries into wealth, she’ll bankrupt this school first!” Hearing Ruth’s words, I understood everything now. So Vivian had been reborn just like me. And she had told her mother that in the past life, my pestering had prevented her from marrying into wealth. This life, I would grant her wish. I knew Vivian was also watching to see if I had been reborn. I couldn’t let her discover anything was wrong, or I would lose my advantage. So I followed the script from my past life, kneeling before her with deep affection and saying: “Vivian, I’m willing to be the father of the child in your belly.” “Can you give me this chance…” Before I could finish, Vivian shook off my hand and said with disgust: “James, give up on that idea!” “This time, I definitely won’t fall for your tricks again!!!” I pretended to be hurt by Vivian’s words, lowered my head, and left the infirmary with my roommate, looking wounded. As soon as we left the infirmary. I couldn’t control the smile spreading across my face. As long as my rebirth wasn’t discovered, Vivian would continue thinking she was destiny’s chosen one. In the following days. I spent all my time in the library, eagerly absorbing university knowledge, often too busy to even stop, just to make up for the regret of not attending university in my past life. With her boyfriend being a rich kid, Vivian had others attend classes for her. Combined with the knowledge from her past life that she’d long forgotten, she probably couldn’t even pass her final exams. The next time I saw Vivian was when she got into rich kid Wesley’s Maybach. I was about to walk out of the school gate. Vivian suddenly called my name from behind. She said to me smugly: “James, do you recognize a Maybach, you poor thing?” “This is a car you could never afford in your lifetime!” “I know you must be really short on money right now. After all, your parents are just old farmers. If you kneel down and lick my shoes right now, I can put in a good word with my boyfriend and have him give you a little money for living expenses.” At this moment, Wesley said with a smile: “James, Vivian already told me everything.” “I never expected that the top student in our class would like my woman so much that he’d even be willing to raise my woman and child. It’s really touching.” “Like Vivian said, if you kneel down and lick my shoes and hers right now, I’ll transfer you a hundred thousand dollars immediately, and you won’t have to worry about next semester’s tuition.” As soon as he finished speaking, the crowd suddenly gasped. “A hundred thousand dollars!” “Just licking shoes gets you a hundred thousand? If it were me, I’d do it. Making money by licking shoes isn’t shameful. At worst, I’d just brush my teeth a few more times afterward.” “Ah, why don’t good opportunities like this ever come to me?” Hearing these words, Wesley rested his chin on his hand and said to me smugly: “James, this is a rare opportunity!” After speaking, Wesley deliberately spat on his own shoe, then looked at me leisurely.

“James, I’m really looking forward to your choice.” “If you’re willing to kneel down and lick the spit off my shoe clean, I’ll double the hundred thousand I just mentioned!” After hearing what Wesley said, I stared at him coldly, forcing words through gritted teeth. “Wesley!” “People like you will die badly! Aren’t you afraid someone will post this online and ruin your reputation?” Hearing my words, Wesley couldn’t help but laugh out loud, then put his arm around Vivian’s waist, got in the car, and drove away. Just then, a girl suddenly handed me a love letter. The girl said to me shyly: “Hello, James.” “This is a love letter I wrote for you.” After saying this, the girl quickly covered her face and ran away. I immediately recognized her as Chloe, one of Vivian’s roommates. Looking at the love letter in my hand, I felt very mixed emotions. In my past life, I never knew Chloe liked me. Perhaps because Vivian and I dropped out together, she never got the chance to say it. In this new life. I decided to let go of the past and accept new things. People can’t always live in the past. So, with two lifetimes of age in my heart, I secretly started dating Chloe. I didn’t hide this from John. When John learned I was in a relationship, he was even happier than I was. John said to me very happily: “James, I never expected you to get together with Chloe, the top student in our class. I never thought I’d live to see two academic achievers dating.” “Let’s see what that woman Vivian has to say now.” “And that Wesley, thinking he can do whatever he wants just because his family has some dirty money. My brother would never covet another man’s woman.” Hearing John’s words, I just slightly pulled at the corner of my mouth. I had always known John was a straightforward person who said whatever was on his mind, but such people often made the best friends. Thinking of my past life, in my most difficult moment when my mom developed late-stage cancer, among all the people I knew, only John was willing to help me. After my mom got sick, not only did Vivian not take care of her, she said to me with disgust: “James, your mom has late-stage cancer. No matter how much money you throw at it, she won’t get better. You might as well use the money on Bobby’s extracurricular classes. Besides, when Bobby grows up and learns about this, he’ll definitely be filial to you.” “Bobby is Wesley’s biological son. I heard that the woman who married Wesley gave birth to three daughters in a row. Wesley only has my son as his child. My Bobby will inherit Wesley’s fortune in the future.” “James, I suggest you give up on your worthless mother as soon as possible, or you’ll end up with nothing—neither saving her nor keeping your money.” Coming back to my senses, I looked at John gratefully and said in a very small voice: “John, thank you for helping me in my past life.”

Just when I thought I would never hear news about Vivian again. Until one day. Wesley suddenly spoke in the class group chat: “I can’t believe we’re graduating so soon. I’m really going to miss you all.” “In three days, I’m planning to host a banquet for my fiancée at the most expensive hotel in the city. You won’t have to pay a cent. Consider it my personal farewell party.” After seeing Wesley’s message, classmates chimed in below. “Wesley is really loaded!” Someone even asked below: “Wesley, my girlfriend wants to hold an engagement party at the SKY Hotel. Could I possibly…” Wesley responded gently below: “Sure.” I just glanced indifferently at the group chat messages and turned to pack my dorm room belongings. The excitement in the group had nothing to do with me. Just then, John said to me very excitedly: “James.” “I heard that people who dine at SKY Hotel are either rich or powerful. I’ve never been inside. James, are you going this time?” Hearing John’s words, I laughed coldly. Go? Of course I would go see. Living a second life, I wanted to see if Vivian could really marry into wealth! Soon it was the day to go to SKY Hotel. Just as I was about to enter the private room, Vivian walked up to me with her five-month-pregnant belly, her nose in the air, speaking with smug satisfaction. “Oh, has our class’s top student found a good job after graduation?” “James, if you’re willing to kneel down and lick my shoes clean right now, I can ask Wesley to set up a separate table just for you.” Vivian’s best friend Lester rolled her eyes and chimed in: “James, don’t be ungrateful. If it weren’t for Vivian being magnanimous and not holding what you did before against you, you wouldn’t even be standing here.” Someone started it, and everyone began to chime in. “That’s right.” “James, Vivian is Wesley’s fiancée, someone you could never aspire to in your lifetime.” Just then, Wesley suddenly appeared, with a quiet and elegant girl following behind him. Everyone instantly fell silent.

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At the company’s annual gala, my wife Mira had already prepared the grand prize for our top salesperson: A villa, a Porsche, and a hundred thousand in cash… I half-joked, “Mira, why don’t you just give him my company while you’re at it?” Mira frowned. “Do you have any idea how much value Marcus has created for you this year?” “You’re the boss—can’t you be a little more generous?” I smiled and said nothing more. Until the day of the gala, during the prize draw game on the big screen, our top salesperson drew Mira herself. Marcus panicked immediately. “Who’s playing such a sick joke, putting the boss’s wife up as my prize?” “Henry, let me explain—someone’s obviously trying to set me up!” I walked forward and patted his shoulder. “This is the gift I specially prepared for you.” The moment my words fell, the entire banquet hall became silent as death. Marcus, our three-year consecutive top salesperson, froze center stage. He stared at me, his whole body trembling uncontrollably. “Henry…” His throat was dry, his vocal cords producing a rusty sound. “Which deal did I mess up? What didn’t I do right?” “Please, just tell me—don’t joke around like this!” “You and Mira are perfect together. I don’t understand this kind of joke!” I raised my hand to straighten his tie, my fingertips brushing past his throat. I could feel his heart pounding wildly beneath. “I’m not joking with you.” “You’ve done excellent work. You’re the best employee I’ve ever had.” My voice wasn’t loud, but I wore a smile. “That’s exactly why I’m rewarding you with Mira.” The next second, the silent air shattered. “Henry!” Mira’s high heels clicked sharply as she cut through the crowd. In her red dress, she blazed like a fierce flame all the way to the stage. “Even jokes have limits!” She pointed at me, her fingertip trembling almost into my pupils. “Apologize to Marcus. Apologize to me. Now!” I lowered my eyes, looking at the emerald bracelet on her wrist—the one I’d won at Sotheby’s last anniversary, named “Forever and Always.” But after seeing the gifts Mira had prepared for our top salesperson yesterday, I knew this relationship had already developed irreparable cracks in places I couldn’t see. “I’m not joking.” I stepped aside, making room to expose Mira completely in the spotlight. “I can afford the villa and the Porsche—why not you?” Gasps echoed through the hall. Some people had already pulled out their phones. “Hasn’t Henry always doted on Mira the most? Why this sudden scene…” “Is Henry really joking, or is he trying to teach Marcus a lesson?” Marcus took half a step back, his eyes full of fear. Mira’s pupils contracted sharply, the red dress making her face appear deathly pale. “Henry, have you lost your mind?” I smiled and said gently: “Don’t worry. After the gala ends, the lawyers will deliver the divorce papers to your office. From today on, you belong to him. The company belongs to me.”

Mira stood in the light, the color draining from her face instantly. When she spoke again, her voice was exceptionally cold. “Henry, are you done with your performance?” She stepped forward, her high heels thumping dully on the carpet. “If you don’t want to give out year-end bonuses, just say so. Using me as your shield, treating the whole company like fools?” The crowd first showed slight confusion, then murmurs of sudden understanding, as if I really was just trying to avoid paying bonuses by deliberately making things difficult for our top salesperson. Buzzing agreement immediately emerged from the crowd: “Yeah, last year Marcus single-handedly achieved over half the department’s performance. Anyone would deserve that award.” “You promised everyone bonuses based on performance, and now you’re backing out?” “Using your wife as a prize—that’s just absurd. Clearly trying to humiliate Marcus…” I swept my gaze across them. My eyes were like the flat of a blade, instantly cutting the murmurs silent. But Marcus suddenly dropped to his knees with a “thud.” “Henry!” His forehead pressed against the floor, a picture of complete pitifulness. “If I messed up any deal or offended any client, just tell me! I’ll accept any punishment, but please don’t… don’t joke about Mira!” “If you don’t want to give bonuses, I can go without—just please don’t make things difficult for me.” “I have two elderly parents to support at home. Henry, I can’t lose this job!” Mira immediately chimed in, her voice rising: “Henry, listen to him. Even your employee understands gratitude better than you. If you’re afraid to pay out, fine—transfer the equity. I, Mira, will pay it. From today on, you don’t deserve to sit in that position.” She turned to face the crowd. “Everyone, whoever wants to work with me, come over here. Year-end bonuses—I’ll double them.” The banquet hall first fell into deathly silence, then the sound of chairs scraping rose in waves. Several young women from the marketing department stood up first. The operations director hesitated for half a second, then kicked his chair back. Even the usually laid-back old security guard sighed, removed his badge, and gently placed it on the table. The crowd slowly gathered behind Mira. I counted. Two-thirds. The remaining third were the old guard from tech and supply chain. I was glad they could stand by my side without hesitation. I lowered my head and smiled. “Mira,” I raised my hand and brushed nonexistent dust off my suit sleeve. “Are you trying to take over my company?” A meaningful cold smile appeared at the corner of Mira’s mouth. “Henry, someone as stingy as you, who doesn’t appreciate employees’ contributions at all—you just want to drain every last drop of value from them.” “You don’t deserve to be the boss.” As soon as Mira finished speaking, scattered applause erupted. “Mira’s right!” I looked coldly at the employees standing behind Mira and said disappointedly, “You really think I’ve treated you badly? Then who gave you those year-end bonuses you’re holding right now?” “So you’re going to bite the hand that feeds you for this woman?”

Marcus’s knees were trembling, but Mira grabbed his wrist firmly. “Stand up.” Her voice wasn’t loud, but it carried a leader’s authority. “From today on, you’re with me. I, Mira, always keep my word. The villa, the Porsche, the bonus—you won’t miss a penny.” Focus returned to Marcus’s pupils. He first stole a glance at me, confirming I wasn’t stopping him, before using Mira’s strength to straighten his spine inch by inch. The moment he stood straight, as if Mira had given him tremendous courage, his voice boomed loud enough to lift the roof: “Everyone, I’ve been with this company for five years. From a street peddler to three-time champion—it wasn’t luck. It was Mira giving me resources, backing me up all the way.” “Today Henry’s using Mira as a prize, making a fool of me. I accept it. But you all saw—even Mira can’t stand watching this.” “Who still wants to follow someone who goes back on his word and uses his own wife as a bargaining chip?” He suddenly raised his hand, pointing at me, his fingertip almost touching my nose. “I, Marcus, am putting it out there—whoever wants to follow Mira, come over now. Bonuses—Mira will sign right here, doubled. Those who don’t want to—stay with Henry and see what he uses you for in next year’s lottery.” The crowd seemed to have a stun grenade thrown into it. The team leader from Sales Division Two smashed his wine glass with a “crack” and was the first to walk over. The finance girl clutched her folders, jogged a few steps, then turned back to bow ninety degrees to me. Even John from supply chain, usually the most silent, sighed and hesitated whether to remove his badge. Mira watched the line rapidly expand, her red lips curving into a curved blade. She raised her hand in a gesture for silence. Applause, footsteps, whispers were instantly cut in two. “Henry…” For the first time, she looked down at me from a superior position, like viewing prey pinned to a cutting board. “See that? Once hearts grow cold, it’s hard to win them back.” I shrugged, too lazy to respond. She took my silence as agreement and pushed further, her high heel clicking onto the stage edge. The light stretched her shadow long, like a spear at my throat. “I’ll give you two choices…” “First—now, immediately, right away—hand over the company seal, legal seal, equity documents, everything. If I’m in a good mood, I might leave you five percent so you can buy a decent tie with your year-end dividend.” “Second…” She paused, smiling victoriously. “Tomorrow I’ll call an emergency shareholders’ meeting and initiate a special resolution to remove you as chairman and general manager.” “Oh, and we’ll sign the divorce agreement too. I’ll note the husband’s major fault. Don’t worry—you won’t get a penny.” “Henry, which one?” Below the stage, her new camp erupted in unified cheering: “Step down! Step down! Step down!” The sound shook the chandeliers. I lowered my head and methodically unfastened my cufflinks. When I looked up again, I raised one finger at her and gently shook it. “Mira, you seem to have gotten something wrong.” I raised my eyes, my gaze sweeping past her, past Marcus, past those faces shouting “step down.” “I built this company from scratch. It’s not me begging anyone to stay—it’s me allowing people to stay and share the pie.” Mira looked displeased. “Henry, you’ve already lost everyone’s support. You still want to act tough?” I didn’t respond, just smiled and pulled out a black USB drive from my pocket. “Everyone, aren’t you curious why I’d give my own wife to an employee?” I waved the USB drive in my hand. “Once you watch this, you’ll understand.”

“Deceiving people!” Mira’s face darkened as she roared at me. “Henry, if you dare show whatever fake content is on that USB today, tomorrow I’ll have my legal team sue you for defamation and slander. Prison food is guaranteed.” The employees behind her nodded in unison. Marcus even stepped forward half a step, his eyes red-rimmed, like a lamb I’d cornered on a cliff. “Everyone, don’t be fooled by his USB drive.” He first bowed to the crowd, then turned and pointed at me: “Three years ago, I accompanied Henry to City A for client negotiations. At eleven at night, he had me deliver an urgent contract to his suite. When the door opened, a woman came out—not Mira. Afraid of being silenced, I bought a ticket and flew back that same night. The next day, he docked my entire year’s commission, saying I ‘mishandled client reception’!” “That’s not all. Last September, I saw him with my own eyes kissing a female influencer in the underground parking garage. Afraid of retaliation, I could only endure it. Today, he can even give away Mira as a prize—what won’t he do?” As his words landed, phone cameras throughout the banquet hall all pointed at me. I lowered my head and smiled, refastening my cufflinks. “Marcus, you’re so good at making up stories, it’s a shame you’re not writing scripts… Too bad it’s all fake.” I raised the USB drive, waving it at the projector port in the front row. “Just three minutes. I guarantee you’ll all look at me differently.” “You wouldn’t dare!” Mira’s high heel clicked once, almost cracking the stage. “Grandpa will be here any minute. If you dare play it, just wait for the legal notices!” “Grandpa?” I raised an eyebrow, feigning confusion. “Didn’t you say he was recuperating abroad and wouldn’t be back until next week at the earliest?” She choked, her face alternating between pale and flushed. I sneered and turned to insert the USB into the port. “Stop!” An aged but vigorous voice rang out. The crowd parted like an invisible cane had pushed them aside, opening a straight path. Mira’s grandfather, Busby—sixty-eight years old, the true anchor of M Group. He leaned on an ebony cane, wearing a suit. I paused my motion and nodded to him respectfully. “Mr. Busby, you’re a bit early. The show’s just reaching its climax.” Mira clutched at this lifeline like a drowning person, rushing up to him, her voice instantly softening to gentle spring water: “Grandpa, why did you come yourself? Your health…” “If I didn’t come, you’d have completely disgraced me!” Busby cut her off coldly, but his gaze passed over her, looking straight at me—or more precisely, at the USB drive in my hand. “Henry,” his voice wasn’t loud, but carried the raspy quality of old-time underworld figures, “give me face. Don’t play it.” I smiled. “I give you face, but have they ever given me face?” “If you play it now, you’ll be making an enemy of the entire M Group.” “If you people were reasonable, I’d naturally treat you with courtesy.” I raised my eyes, my gaze colliding with his across the space. The air solidified to near suffocation. Suddenly, Busby said to me: “Henry, I know what’s on that USB better than you do.” One sentence, and the entire hall erupted. Mira’s head snapped up sharply, her pupils like an earthquake: “Grandpa?” Busby didn’t look at his granddaughter, only stared at me. “Give me ten minutes. I’ll tell everyone the real story. After I finish, if you still want to play it, I’ll press the mouse button for you myself.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “358201”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #现实主义Realistic #重生Reborn #校园School

Just after transferring schools, the popular girl Valerie came crying to the teacher, claiming I was mentally disturbed and had been secretly photographing her in the women’s restroom. When the Dean of Students arrived, she pointed at my backpack and cursed: “Pervert! You were definitely lurking around the bathroom entrance acting suspicious, and your phone must be full of photos!” “I could feel it! Your camera lens was pointed right at me the whole time, it’s disgusting!” The students around me started whispering and pointing. “This kind of creep should be expelled immediately!” “He looks so honest and harmless, but turns out he’s a voyeur!” Facing the collective accusation, I unzipped my backpack and pulled out an old Nokia phone that could only make calls. “Teacher, please tell me—how exactly could I take high-definition photos with a phone that doesn’t even have a camera?” I held up the Nokia that looked like a brick, its screen still showing the Snake game interface. Instant dead silence all around. The Dean of Students pushed up his glasses, the fat on his face quivering slightly, clearly not having expected this outcome. Valerie was the first to react. “You must have another phone!” She pointed at my nose, her voice shrill. “You deliberately pulled that one out to deceive people! I’ve seen plenty of people like you! Acting honest on the surface, disgusting on the inside!” The tall guy beside her, named Garrett, the captain of the school basketball team, stepped forward aggressively. “You hear that? Hand over your other phone! Or don’t blame me for getting rough!” I looked at him calmly, even holding the Nokia closer to his face. “This is my only phone.” “Bullshit!” Garrett slapped my hand away, and the Nokia fell to the ground, but its screen remained stubbornly lit. “Search him! Dean! This scumbag needs to be searched! He must have hidden the phone on his body!” The Dean of Students frowned, clearly feeling the situation was getting out of control, but seeing Valerie crying so pitifully, his balance obviously tipped. “Young man, to prove your innocence, please cooperate.” “Take out everything from your pockets yourself.” The murmuring around grew louder. “Exactly, if you haven’t done anything wrong, what are you afraid of?” “Hurry up, don’t waste everyone’s time.” I ignored those voices, just looking at Valerie. She wiped her tears with the back of her hand while peeking at me through her fingers. In front of everyone, I began emptying my pockets. Left pocket: a set of keys, some loose change. Right pocket: a pack of tissues, half an eraser. I spread my hands open, looking at the Dean of Students. “Teacher, that’s everything.” Valerie’s crying stopped. She looked at me in disbelief. The air fell into awkward silence again. I broke the silence. “Valerie, can you prove my innocence now?” I paused, looking into her eyes, asking word by word. “Shouldn’t you apologize for your false accusation?” Apologize? Those two words were like a spark, instantly igniting Valerie. She looked as if she’d heard the world’s greatest joke, then her face went pale, her body swayed, and she fell backward limply. “Valerie!” Garrett caught her with quick reflexes, shouting in panic. Valerie lay in his arms, eyes tightly closed, brows furrowed in pain, murmuring: “So scary… he’s so scary…” The Dean’s face changed drastically, immediately rushing over. “Quick! Get her to the infirmary!” He directed Garrett, then turned to glare at me. “What’s wrong with you as a student? You made a classmate faint! You have no compassion at all!” He pointed at my nose, his voice full of reproach. “This matter ends here! Don’t bring it up again! You—come to my office this afternoon and write a self-criticism! Reflect on your words and actions!” With that, he hustled away with the “unconscious” Valerie and the furious Garrett. The crowd dispersed, leaving only me standing there. On the ground, the Nokia’s screen was still lit. No apology came, replaced instead by a self-criticism assignment.

First period that afternoon, I sat in the Dean of Students’ office as promised. The Dean sat across from me with his beer belly, leisurely brewing tea. “Do you know why I called you here?” he asked without looking up. “Yes, to write a self-criticism,” I answered. His hand paused mid-lift with the teacup, apparently not expecting such a straightforward response. “Your attitude is acceptable.” He took a sip of tea and set down the cup. “But good attitude alone isn’t enough. You need to deeply recognize your mistakes.” I looked at him and asked seriously, “Dean, what exactly is my mistake?” “You…” He choked on my question, his expression darkening. “You still have the nerve to ask? Valerie had low blood sugar and had to go to the infirmary because of you! As a male student, you argued with a female classmate and pressed her so aggressively—that’s your mistake!” “So,” I stated calmly, “because she’s a girl, because she cried, because she fainted, her false accusation that I’m a voyeur is acceptable. And my request for an apology is my mistake.” “What kind of logic is that!” The Dean slammed the table, splashing tea water. “Sophistry! Valerie was just being sensitive and concerned about school safety! As a new transfer student, instead of thinking about how to get along with classmates, you cause trouble right away! That’s your problem!” I understood now. In this matter, the truth didn’t matter. Who was right or wrong didn’t matter. What mattered was that Valerie was the perfect campus beauty in everyone’s eyes, while I was just an insignificant newcomer. “Self-criticism, one thousand words. You can’t leave until it’s done.” The Dean issued his ultimatum. I said nothing more, picked up the pen, and began writing. An hour later, I handed over the completed self-criticism. The Dean picked it up with satisfaction, but his brow furrowed tighter as he read. “What is this supposed to be?” He slapped the paper on the desk. “‘I shouldn’t have demanded truth in the face of facts, shouldn’t have requested an apology after being slandered, shouldn’t have overestimated a person’s basic decency, and shouldn’t have underestimated a group’s blind conformity. My mistake was thinking this was a place where reason matters.’ Rubio, is this a self-criticism? Who are you mocking!” I looked at him, my tone sincere. “Dean, these are all my honest thoughts. Isn’t that deep enough?” His face flushed red as he pointed at me, unable to speak for a long while. Just then, someone knocked on the office door. My homeroom teacher entered, her expression troubled. “Dean, I need to speak with Rubio about something.” The Dean seized the opportunity like a lifeline, waving impatiently: “Take him! Take him! A student with character problems—you educate him properly!” I followed my homeroom teacher out of the office. In the hallway, she stopped and sighed. “Rubio, I know you feel wronged. But Valerie… her family is an important donor to the school, and Garrett’s father is one of the school board members. You should… just endure it.” She handed me an application form. “This is the school’s financial aid application for students in need. Looking at your records, you’re from a single-parent household and transferred here from a rural area, so you should qualify. Fill this out, and I’ll try my best to help you get it.” After saying this, she patted my shoulder and left. What was this supposed to be? A slap followed by candy? I held that thin application form, feeling like it was all a joke. Back in the classroom, everyone looked at me with strange eyes. On my desk, someone had drawn a turtle in red permanent marker, with two words beside it: Pervert. Garrett sat not far away with several guys, laughing mockingly in my direction without any attempt to hide it. Valerie sat in the front row, surrounded by a group of girls, whispering about something. She seemed to sense my gaze and turned to give me an extremely innocent yet pitying look, silently mouthing two words. “Deserved it.”

Before evening study hall, I went to the cafeteria for dinner. I’d just gotten my food and sat down when someone took the seat across from me. It was Garrett. Several basketball team members followed behind him, forming a semicircle around me. The cafeteria immediately quieted down considerably, with everyone’s attention focused here. “New kid, heard you’re pretty tough, huh?” Garrett slammed his tray down heavily on the table, splattering food everywhere. I didn’t respond, just picked up some vegetables with my fork and ate slowly. My disregard completely enraged him. “I’m talking to you! Are you deaf or mute?” He slapped the table and stood up. “Can I help you?” I finally raised my eyes to look at him. “Can I help you?” He laughed, the laugh full of arrogance. “Of course! You made Valerie suffer so much today, and you got her called in by the teacher. Tell me, how should we settle this account?” I put down my fork, finding it somewhat amusing. “She slandered me, and it somehow became me making her suffer?” “Stop twisting things!” A guy with bleached hair behind Garrett pointed at me and cursed. “If you hadn’t been so aggressive, would Valerie have fainted? You’re a grown man with a heart smaller than a needle point—disgusting!” “Exactly! Pervert! Voyeur!” Echoing voices rose all around. Garrett was satisfied with this effect, looking down at me condescendingly. “I’ll give you two choices.” He held up two fingers. “First, right now, immediately, go apologize to Valerie. Kneel down, beg for her forgiveness.” He paused, his smile turning vicious. “Second, I’ll make it impossible for you to stay at this school. Don’t think I don’t know—you also applied for some bullshit financial aid. Believe me or not, with one word from me, your application becomes waste paper?” This was a threat. A blatant threat. I looked at him and suddenly asked, “What if I choose neither?” “Neither?” Garrett looked like he’d heard the funniest joke. “Then don’t blame us for using our own methods to teach you a lesson.” As soon as he finished speaking, the guys behind him simultaneously closed in on me. Students in the cafeteria let out gasps, but no one stepped forward to stop it. Instead, they all excitedly pulled out their phones to watch the show. I slowly stood up, my body somewhat stiff from sitting. Just when they thought I would submit or panic, I did something no one expected. I picked up my tray and, with an extremely precise angle, firmly planted the remaining half portion of braised eggplant, along with rice and sauce, right on top of Garrett’s head. The sticky sauce ran down his hair, hanging from his eyebrows and nose tip, with several grains of rice stuck to his cheeks. The entire cafeteria fell instantly silent. Everyone was stunned. Garrett froze too, seemingly unable to believe what had happened. One second, two seconds. “Ahh!” He let out a beast-like roar, wiping the grease from his face. “FUCK! You dare touch me!” He swung his fist at my face. The guys behind him also reacted and rushed forward together. I didn’t take it head-on, dodging Garrett’s punch with a sidestep and kicking the chair beside him. The chair toppled over, tripping the two guys coming up behind him. The scene instantly descended into chaos. Though I looked thin, years of helping with farm work at home had given me considerable strength and quick reflexes. But two fists can’t fight four hands. In the chaos, someone kicked me hard in the back, and I fell forward, knocking over a table. The sound of breaking dishes mixed with the dull thuds of fists and feet landing on my body. I tasted blood at the corner of my mouth. I don’t know how long it lasted before the cafeteria security and teachers finally arrived and pulled apart the brawling group. I was helped up from the ground, completely disheveled, with cuts on my face and my uniform torn. Garrett, aside from a few eggplant skins still hanging from his head, had barely any injuries. The Dean of Students arrived to this scene. His face was as black as the bottom of a pot. “Rubio!” He pointed at me, trembling with anger. “You again! Are you trying to turn the school upside down before you’re satisfied! First you made a female classmate faint, now you’re openly brawling in the cafeteria! Our school can’t have students like you!”

I stood once again in the Dean of Students’ office. This time, Garrett stood beside me, along with Valerie, who had rushed over upon hearing the news. Valerie’s eyes were red. The moment she saw the grease on Garrett’s face, tears fell. “Garrett, are you okay? Does it hurt?” She pulled out tissues, carefully wiping his face. “It’s all my fault. If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t have been… by this kind of person…” She choked up and couldn’t continue, looking heartbroken and guilty. Garrett immediately comforted her: “It’s not your fault, Valerie. I’m useless—I couldn’t properly teach this bastard a lesson for you.” The two of them acted out a drama of deep affection as if no one else was there. The Dean coughed heavily. “Garrett, although the other party struck first, fighting is still wrong. Go back and write a five-hundred-word self-criticism.” He glossed over it lightly. Then he turned to me, his expression instantly becoming extremely stern. “Rubio! You! Repeatedly refusing to reform! Extremely bad in nature! Must be dealt with severely!” I looked at him, my voice somewhat muffled due to my cut lip: “He surrounded and blocked me first with his people, and threatened me.” “I threatened you?” Garrett jumped up immediately. “Bullshit! I just wanted to ‘communicate’ with you, to get you to apologize to Valerie. You’re the one who went crazy and dumped food on my head! Everyone saw it!” “Right, Dean.” Valerie spoke softly and weakly. “I heard that Rubio seems to have a big problem with me. Garrett just wanted to help resolve the conflict. He didn’t expect Rubio to react so violently… Did I do something wrong to make him misunderstand?” She looked at me, her eyes full of “sincere” confusion and grievance. With one sentence, she pushed all the blame onto me. I was making a big deal out of nothing, I overreacted, I was unreasonable. The Dean clearly bought it. Looking at Valerie, his tone softened considerably. “Valerie, don’t overthink it. This has nothing to do with you. It’s our school’s management that has problems, admitting students with such poor character.” He looked at me again. “The school has decided that given your short time here but already causing two serious incidents, creating an extremely bad impact on the school’s reputation, we’ll give you one chance. Apply for voluntary withdrawal yourself. Otherwise, you’ll receive a major demerit, school-wide public criticism, and expulsion.” Expulsion. Those four words fell like four mountains pressing down. My dad had spent half his life’s savings and pulled countless strings to transfer me here from a rural high school, all so I could have a better future. If I got expelled, everything would be ruined. Garrett and Valerie exchanged glances, both seeing triumph in each other’s eyes. This was the result they wanted. To completely remove me from this school. “Well? Have you decided?” The Dean urged impatiently. I remained silent, saying nothing. My silence appeared to them as despair and submission. Valerie even “kindly” advised me: “Rubio, the Dean is doing this for your own good. Voluntary withdrawal looks better on your record. You’ll still have opportunities in the future.” I finally raised my head, my gaze sweeping over the three of them. The Dean’s bureaucracy and snobbery, Garrett’s arrogance and stupidity, Valerie’s malice and hypocrisy. Looking at them, I suddenly smiled. “Dean, before making a decision, I think you should probably watch a video first.” “What video? Stop being mysterious here!” Garrett shouted. I ignored him, pulling out an ordinary-looking black smartphone from my pocket. This phone—from the start of school until now—I had never used in front of anyone. Everyone thought I only had that Nokia. I unlocked the screen and opened a video file. “Dean, did you know? In public places like cafeterias, although some surveillance cameras are just for show, there are always some corners where the signal is public.” I turned the phone screen toward him, my voice not loud but clearly reaching every corner of the office. “I don’t have many hobbies, but I like writing little programs. For instance, occasionally backing up certain public video streams under public WiFi. Very unluckily, this afternoon at lunch, I backed up a segment.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “358200”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #现实主义Realistic #重生Reborn #校园School

On Valentine’s Day, I got a huge delivery order to a hotel. Two boxes of condoms. Plus a lingerie set. Delivery fee: a hundred bucks. I rushed over through the freezing wind, only to hear my wife’s voice through the door, talking to another man. “Six condoms. You’re not leaving until we use them all,” she said, teasing. They were so eager they hadn’t even closed the door all the way. I didn’t go in. I didn’t say a word. I just sat in the hallway and smoked an entire pack. While I listened to my wife moan, desperate, breathless, urgent, I took the designer bag she’d been begging for and burned it to ash. Late that night when I got home, Isabelle Snow was wearing a sheer nightgown, posing in front of the mirror. When she saw me come in, she quickly threw on a robe. Panic flickered in her eyes. “You’re home so late. It’s Valentine’s Day. Where’s my gift?” Seeing my empty hands, her voice turned sharp. Once, I would’ve caught every flicker of her mood and done everything to make her happy. But tonight, my heart was still as dead water. I returned to the bedroom exhausted and collapsed on the bed without a word. When I turned over, I accidentally touched a small pink tube under the pillow. A line of small print on the packaging. “Restores intimate areas to youthful firmness and moisture, giving him the ride of his life.” I stared at the ointment in a daze. Isabelle rushed into the bedroom and snatched it away, clutching it in her hand. “I’ve had some minor gynecological issues lately. It’s nothing.” She guiltily tossed the ointment in the trash, then made a show of taking out the garbage. When she came back in, she was obviously relieved. I didn’t expose her. I pulled her onto the bed. “What are you doing?” Isabelle resisted. “It’s been over three months. It’s Valentine’s Day-let’s do it once.” I numbly lifted her skirt. Rather than still having desire for her, I was holding in my rage, wanting release. Her expression showed clear rejection as she frowned and pushed me away. “You’re covered in sweat. Your clothes are filthy.” I ignored her and reached to touch her. Slap. Isabelle’s hand landed on my face-not too hard, not too soft. We both froze. She looked a bit panicked, but still turned her face away. “Is this the only thing in your brain?” I stared at the red marks on her thighs that hadn’t yet faded, my mouth curling in self-mockery. How ridiculous. A place where another man could freely roam, yet I, her legal husband, couldn’t even touch. As we remained in this standoff, Isabelle’s phone rang. Someone was FaceTiming her. She immediately flipped the phone face-down in her palm, pulled her nightgown closed, and hurried away, locking herself in the study. I didn’t need to guess who would make her hide in the study to take a call at midnight. I went into the bathroom and listlessly washed myself. Isabelle and I were college classmates, once the template for a perfect campus romance. My billionaire father, worried I’d become a spoiled brat, pretended to be poor from the time I was young, constantly reinforcing the idea that our family had no money. It wasn’t until the day before college graduation that I learned our family actually had billions in assets. I immediately proposed giving Isabelle a proper wedding, but my parents refused to approve our marriage. Between billions in family assets and Isabelle, I chose her without hesitation and cut ties with my family. In her eyes, I was a clueless kid fresh out of college, hitting walls everywhere, while she quickly found a job at an e-commerce company thanks to her good looks. When the company went under and jobs were hard to find, I delivered food in hundred-degree heat every day, never complaining to her about the hardship. I thought true love could last a lifetime. I never imagined how quickly hearts could change. Everything changed when her company got a new boss. A rich heir. Tristan Harrington was handsome, charming, the trendy pretty-boy type. And Isabelle was completely gone for him. She used to be casual about her appearance. Now she was learning makeup, obsessing over skincare and weight loss. Her closet filled up with tight, sexy short skirts and stockings. She loved posting provocative photos of herself in them on Instagram. I’d asked about it once, bothered. “Is it really appropriate to post those kinds of photos on Ins?” She exploded on the spot. “What do you know? It’s competitive out there. If you want to make money, you have to put yourself out there!” Back then, I thought she was just stressed from work. I didn’t take it seriously. If I hadn’t been desperately taking orders to buy her that dream bag for Valentine’s Day, I’d still believe in this relationship completely. I stood in the cold water for a full hour until my whole body was numb, then sluggishly returned to the bedroom. The double bed had only one pillow left. On my phone was a message she’d sent half an hour ago. “I have a meeting tomorrow. Your snoring will disturb me. I’m sleeping in the guest room.” I lit a cigarette and stood outside the guest room door for a long time. Her phone call had lasted over an hour and showed no signs of ending. Coquettish laughter and the kind of dirty talk only lovers say drifted faintly through the door. Even through the door, I could feel how happy Isabelle was right now. The scales of affection had already tipped. Any further pretense was just self-deception.

After a sleepless night, I left the house like a zombie. The mortgage loomed like a mountain on my shoulders. Even time to grieve was a luxury. Between the intense work and my depression, I was dazed when an oncoming luxury car hit me. Ironically, the person who got out of the car was Isabelle. Seeing me covered in wounds, she froze. “Call the police. Call an ambulance.” I was pinned under my scooter, my phone knocked away. All I could do was ask Isabelle for help, my face covered in blood. She said nothing, until Tristan Harrington got out of the car and naturally put his arm around her. “What, you know him?” Isabelle blurted out, “I don’t know him! He’s just some delivery guy!” In that moment, the tearing pain in my heart far exceeded any physical suffering. “Fucking bad luck. Running into some broke asshole first thing in the morning trying to scam us.” Tristan Harrington spat at me, then turned and hooked his arm around Isabelle’s waist. “Don’t bother with him. He won’t die. I’ve got plenty of money-I’d rather pay lawyers than give these poor dogs anything.” She looked back at me hesitantly a few times, then pressed her lips together and resolutely got in the car. Exhaust swept across my face as I lay paralyzed in the road, my eyes caked with blood, my ribs stabbing with every breath. I lay in the road for twenty minutes. Finally a passerby called an ambulance and got me to the hospital. “Mr. Morgan, surgery requires family consent. Please contact your family.” Seeing my silence, the doctor added awkwardly, “These are hospital rules. We all have to follow procedures.” With the only finger I could move, I called Isabelle. Against the noisy background of a bar, Isabelle lowered her voice. “Didn’t I tell you not to call during work hours?” Even though I was prepared, my chest still tightened with pain. “Come to the hospital to sign something. It’ll only take a few minutes.” Suggestive sounds came through the phone, along with Isabelle’s uneven breathing. “It’s just minor injuries. Are you really making such a big deal?” “Derek, it’s bad enough you have no ambition and deliver food. Don’t cause problems and stress me out.” With that, she hung up. When I called again, there was only the cold automated message that the phone was off. Right. I was just a delivery guy. How could I compare to a flashy rich heir? He wore tailored suits and threw money around, while I wore sweat-soaked t-shirts and raced against time for each delivery. I looked at my sun-darkened, peeling arms and felt both pathetic and ridiculous. Why bother? I had billions in family assets I could claim, but I chose to eat bitterness I didn’t have to. “Mr. Morgan, contact family as soon as possible. Any more delay and we might have to amputate.” The doctor’s words snapped me back to reality. After five years, I dialed that long-unused number again. “Dad, come to the hospital to sign for me.”

I spent two weeks in the hospital. Isabelle never called once. On the day I was discharged, my father gave me half his assets. I had the driver and bodyguards wait downstairs while I went alone to the home Isabelle and I shared. When I opened the door, Isabelle hastily pulled on her nightgown. “Honey, wait downstairs for a bit. Now’s not convenient.” She blocked the door with her body, refusing to let me in. A man’s voice came from inside the room. “Babe, where are my pants?” There’s no such thing as regret medicine. Isabelle awkwardly pushed me into the hallway, her back against the door. Seeing the cast on my leg, she finally looked a bit guilty and tried to explain. “Honey, I didn’t know you were hurt this badly… My coworkers were all in the car at the time… I…” “I get it. Having a delivery guy for a husband embarrassed you.” I cut her off. Hit with the truth, Isabelle got defensive. “I’m already exhausted from work. Can you not be so sensitive?” I laughed coldly. “I come back to my own house to see my legal wife, and I have to avoid another man?” “I have to wait for him to leave before I can come home?” A flash of embarrassment crossed Isabelle’s face, then she became self-righteous. “I’m human too. I have needs. You haven’t touched me in months-I can’t find some way to satisfy myself?” “You come home like a dead man every day and pass out. Have you ever cared about my emotions, my needs?” “Derek! You have no right to judge me!” Watching her so confident and self-righteous, I suddenly felt like a complete joke. Back when she held me in our tiny rental apartment and said she didn’t need wealth, just someone loyal. For that one promise, I’d tasted every bitter fruit. She said coworkers mocked her shabby clothes. I worked dawn to dusk to buy her designer clothes, wearing the same pants for three years without replacing them. When she worked overtime, I’d come home exhausted and still do all the housework, preparing healthy breakfasts before leaving. After a full day’s grind, I barely had energy to speak, let alone for that. Now, this had become her righteous excuse for cheating. I asked wearily, “Am I the only one suffering in this marriage?” Isabelle jabbed her finger at me aggressively, like a ruffled chicken. “What’s that supposed to mean? Marrying me wronged you?” Her movements were too dramatic. Her nightgown belt came loose, revealing the torn, misshapen lingerie underneath. Her smooth, pale chest and thighs were covered in humiliating words written in lipstick. The hair there was shaved completely clean. She frantically pulled her robe closed, but I laughed bitterly. The rose I’d cultivated with blood and tears willingly degraded herself for another man. I used to have to beg and plead just to try a different position, and even then I had to check Isabelle’s mood first. Now Tristan Harrington said one word and she pulled out all the stops. In that moment, the last shred of feeling I had for Isabelle vanished. “Let’s divorce.” I coldly tossed out the divorce papers. “Playing hard to get? You think when I actually sign, you’ll cry and beg me to stay?” “Derek, leave yourself some dignity, okay?” Isabelle didn’t even glance at the papers, mocking me instead. I was too tired to argue. I held out a pen. “You’re right about everything. Sign it.” Her expression shifted. She stared at me silently. Tristan Harrington came out and, right in front of me, put his arm around Isabelle. “If you’re not capable, don’t blame women for being materialistic.” As he spoke, he pointed at the million-dollar luxury car parked downstairs. “Let me teach you something. Some things-if you’re born with them, you have them. If you’re born without them, you’ll never have a chance in this life. Got it?” I nodded and sent a message on my phone. “Don’t say things are final. You never know when you might get unlucky.” The moment I finished speaking, several bodyguards rushed over and viciously smashed Tristan Harrington’s luxury car. “See? You just got unlucky.” I smiled. Tristan Harrington’s face turned green with distress. He rushed downstairs without even putting on pants. “I drank too much this time. It was an accident. Everyone makes mistakes, right? Once you calm down, we can talk.” Isabelle pressed her forehead, waving me off dismissively. I laughed coldly and pulled out that day’s delivery order. “Six condoms. Hope they didn’t wear you out too much?” Isabelle’s face changed dramatically. After a stunned moment, she glared at me furiously instead. “Derek! You’re disgusting! You followed me!” I laughed-laughed at Isabelle’s invincible logic. She cheated first, but could still righteously accuse me. I lit a cigarette, smoke blurring my vision. “Just sign.” Isabelle realized I was determined and finally dropped the act. “Fine. We can divorce. But I get the house. Plus you give me another hundred thousand for my wasted youth.” Without the filter of love, I realized how little I knew the woman I’d married nearly ten years ago. I let out a laugh, angry and disbelieving. “The house was mine before we got married. I made the down payment. You’ve spent every cent you earned on yourself. I’ve been paying the mortgage alone. You cheated on me, and you still have the nerve to ask for the house and compensation?” “We’re the same age. My time matters just as much as yours.” Isabelle went full-on crazy. “What did I do? I invited my boss home to talk business. What’s inappropriate about that?” I was shocked by her shamelessness. “What kind of work requires taking off your pants and shaving before you can discuss it?” I stared at her coldly. Isabelle had never seen me so firm. She was speechless for a long moment. “Even if I was wrong, it’s because you neglected me! At minimum I deserve half!” “Besides, you don’t even have proof!” I’d originally planned to part with Isabelle amicably, but watching her throw this tantrum, I suddenly felt disgusted. Nine whole years. In the end, it was my own misplaced devotion. I’d installed smart security cameras in the house a month ago. All their acrobatics were pushed to my phone in real time. I’d wanted to give us both a dignified ending, but she was forcing me to be undignified. Watching me take the camera off the refrigerator, Isabelle froze in place. She never cared about household matters and didn’t even know about the camera installation. Faced with iron evidence, Isabelle changed tactics in a second, playing the emotional card. “Derek, I gave you the best years of my life. You promised you wouldn’t let me live a hard life.” “I’m a woman struggling in society. It’s not easy. You’re still so young-you can buy another house after giving me this one.” I lost all interest in arguing with her. “Take the house. We’re done here.” This property meant nothing to me now. Pocket change. I wasn’t about to keep fighting Isabelle over something so small. Before, no matter how hard things got, just seeing her could reignite my fire. But now? She just disgusted me. Seeing how easily I gave in, Isabelle leaned against the doorframe, smug. “I’m not worse than anyone else. You didn’t really expect me to live a hard life with you forever, did you?” “You’re poor. You’re useless. You got to have someone like me for years. You should consider yourself lucky.” I looked at Isabelle, the woman I’d been with for so long, and suddenly she felt like a stranger. When did the girl who needed me to hold her just to fall asleep turn into this? I clutched the divorce papers and walked down the stairs. I didn’t look back.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “358199”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #现实主义Realistic #重生Reborn #校园School