Author: Momo Chan

I was the daughter of the city’s wealthiest family. But I had a secret: once a month, I’d transform into a Ragdoll cat. My dad, terrified this secret would get out, handpicked five fiancés for me. They had all grown up alongside me, a gesture of shared history. Each of them was a high-flyer, but their eyes held nothing but ambition and greed. Only Liam Hayes was different. When I, as a cat, was lost outside, he would always pick me up and bring me home, caring for me. On a day that was supposed to be special for us, I had planned to gift him a vintage piano worth millions and set our engagement date. But I transformed into a cat again. On the couch, Liam held me close, promising Chloe Miller, our housekeeper’s granddaughter: “Marrying Skylar is just a stepping stone. Once the Sutton empire is mine, the only one standing by my side will be you, Chloe. As for her… a payout will keep her quiet.” “Chloe, you’re the one for me.” The engagement party was just around the corner, and Dad asked me who I’d finally choose. The greedy glint in those men’s eyes flashed through my mind… I said, “When choosing a husband, I definitely need the one who’s the least trouble… and the most handsome. Let’s go with Julian Thorne from the Thorne family.” Dad’s teacup shattered on the floor. “Skylar! Julian Thorne was in a car accident three years ago… he’s been in a vegetative state ever since. Are you sure?” “Why?” Dad was incredulous. “Wasn’t Liam a good kid? The others are all the cream of the crop, and you…” “You know about… my situation. What would happen to the Suttons if word got out? What would I become?” Dad’s face instantly turned grave. “But Julian Thorne… he’s been like that for three years. My child, you’d be tied to a man who’s essentially gone, so young! How can I be at peace with that!” The Thorne family’s eldest son, once one of the most eligible bachelors in the city, had been in a car accident three years ago, leaving him in a medically confirmed vegetative state. Dad had picked those five back then, fearing I’d be alone someday, hoping at least one of them would genuinely care for me. But he couldn’t guard against the treacherous nature of people’s hearts. I leaned softly on Dad’s shoulder. “Dad, having you is enough. I’m fine on my own.” At least Julian wouldn’t harm me, nor would he have ulterior motives because I could turn into a cat. Dad sighed, finally giving up his objections. After Dad left, my heart felt icy. Who would’ve thought Liam, who seemed pure as driven snow, was actually calculating furiously with Chloe Miller behind my back! If he knew I could turn into a cat, he’d probably see me as a monster, or even… eagerly pack me off to some secret research lab, right? Just the thought sent a shiver down my spine. I had just returned from the company when four figures blocked me at the villa entrance. Everyone was there, except Liam. Dylan Reed, the investment banker, was the first to lose his patience, speaking with a languid drawl: “Skylar, darling, we’ve supported you for ages. How come there’s still no word on that five-million-dollar investment Mr. Sutton promised? You’re not playing dirty, are you?” Next to him, Dr. Alex Gray, still in his scrubs, hands in his pockets, chimed in: “Skylar Sutton, are you going to get me that Chief Resident title or not? Spit it out! My time is far more valuable than yours. A single wasted minute could mean a life lost, and you think you can afford that?” Ben Stone, the lawyer, adjusted his glasses. “No one understands the Suttons’ intentions better than I do. Are you trying to burn bridges now? Either sign a ten-year contract with our firm, or I can’t guarantee what the Sutton name will become.” Even Lucas Blackwood, who always prided himself on his artistic integrity, spoke up, full of indignant betrayal: “What about us? Forget us! What about Liam? He’s too pure for this world; he wouldn’t have gotten involved in this mess if your family hadn’t forced him! You have to compensate us!” In their mouths, I was an ungrateful, unforgivable liar. But which one of them wasn’t where they were today because of the Suttons? From their tuition for prestigious overseas education to their connections for high-paying jobs back home, the Suttons had paved the way for everything. And now they were turning around and accusing me? I pointed at the main door. “Done talking? If you’re so wronged, you shouldn’t have come in the first place. This is perfect, now get out! Isn’t it better for everyone to be free?” Their faces instantly twisted into ugly grimaces. I tugged at the corner of my lips, finding it somewhat amusing. “What? You’re free and not happy? Is it because you won’t have the chance to rightfully covet the Sutton fortune anymore?” “Stop pretending, you pillars of society. When you were falling over yourselves to get your foot in the Sutton door, why didn’t you show so much pride?” Dylan and the others flushed, their faces turning pale, but they stubbornly tried to argue. Alex forced out a defense. “Wh-what’s with the nasty talk! We… we’re from ordinary families, how could we dare challenge a family as wealthy as the Suttons? It was your dad who insisted on choosing us…” Ben echoed, “Exactly! What right did we have to refuse? Beggars can’t be choosers!” Their shamelessness almost made me laugh in exasperation. Before I could even process their ridiculous accusations, Liam and Chloe appeared. The moment Chloe saw me, she clutched Liam’s sleeve like a startled little bunny. Liam instinctively pulled her behind him, and the four others immediately surrounded them, as if I was about to tear Chloe apart. This scene was so familiar. Five years ago, when Chloe first came to the Suttons with her grandmother, she shyly handed me a small, carved wooden charm on a red string, saying it was a protective amulet from her village. I saw her genuine sincerity and was touched. Thinking little girls loved pretty things, I immediately gifted her a diamond bracelet in return as a welcome present. Who knew that just two days later, Liam would angrily confront me, holding that wooden charm. “Chloe said she’s had this since birth, that her mother had practically begged for it on her knees for days! And you’re trying to take it from her too?!” I was stunned, looking at Chloe, hoping she’d speak up for me. Instead, she sank to her knees, tears welling up instantly. “Liam, don’t blame Skylar! It was… it was my fault for insisting on giving it to her! Skylar is very good to me, she even gave me such a beautiful bracelet… *sob*… I’m not upset, really…” She cried and bowed her head, her forehead quickly growing red. This display of utter helplessness and false martyrdom instantly ignited the fury of those self-proclaimed knights in shining armor. “Skylar Sutton, just because you’re a Sutton, you think you can push people around like this?” “Someone gives you a heartfelt gift, and you throw money in their face?” “Don’t be scared, Chloe! We’re here, she won’t dare touch you!” From then on, whenever Chloe shed a single tear in front of me, no matter what I had or hadn’t done, Liam and the others would immediately decide it was my fault. Chloe, meanwhile, never once explained. Later, when I turned into a cat, I personally saw her casually toss that wooden charm into the trash, not caring about it at all. In front of those men, she’d lavish me, a cute little cat, with affection, but secretly, she’d pull my fur, even pinch my tail until I cried out in pain and fled. One time, I couldn’t stand it anymore and suggested to Dad that we send Chloe to school, to learn a skill. My mom passed away early, and Mrs. Miller had been with our family for nearly twenty years, taking devoted care of Dad and me. Because of Mrs. Miller, I had always shown Chloe a lot of patience. Sending her to school was truly for her own good. But Chloe immediately burst into tears and ran out. Those men instantly came running again, without bothering to understand the situation, accusing me: “Skylar Sutton! Chloe never got much schooling growing up, aren’t you just rubbing salt in her wounds?!” “She’s already so insecure and sensitive, can’t you just be nicer to her? Do you have to provoke her like this?” “How can you be so malicious! Can’t stand to see anyone do well, can you?!” They became even more convinced she was pathetically vulnerable and innocent. And I, through and through, was nothing but a spoiled, manipulative, and utterly irredeemable villain. My thoughts snapped back to the present. Looking at the faces of these five men, I felt a wave of nausea. “Take your pathetic little saint and get out!” Accusations once again rained down on me, overwhelming. “Skylar Sutton! How dare you speak like that! You’ve gone too far!” “Chloe came to see you out of kindness, don’t you know what’s good for you!” Chloe’s tears started to well up again. She peeked half her head out from behind Liam, pulling out a few crumpled bills and offering them to me. “Skylar, please don’t be angry… this is my allowance I’ve saved for ages, it’s not much… please don’t blame Liam and the others…” Again? I swatted her hand away, scattering the bills across the floor. “Cut the sickening act!” *SLAP!* Liam’s palm slammed against my cheek. My face instantly swelled, burning with stinging pain. “Skylar Sutton! Are you done with your tantrum?! Chloe was just trying to be kind! How dare you humiliate her like that?!” Liam’s tone was laced with condescending arrogance. “Skylar Sutton, if you still want to marry me, you *must* respect Chloe!” “And Dylan and the others, you need to compensate them properly!” He ticked off my supposed misdeeds on his fingers, one by one: “Dylan’s boss is constantly chewing him out these days; can’t the Suttons pull some strings for him?” “Alex can’t get promoted and is constantly bossed around by his supervisor; are you blind?” “Who even understands art these days? Lucas’s gallery is barely staying afloat. Is it so hard to buy a few paintings to help him out?” He paused, his voice turning threatening. “My orchestra has an overseas tour coming up in a few days. If you keep acting like this, don’t blame me if I don’t come back!” Dylan and the others looked profoundly touched.

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The kidnappers chopped off ten of my fingers, warning that if they didn’t see the ransom by tomorrow, they’d throw me into a blender and grind me to bits. I decided there was no way out, no escaping their twisted game. So that night, I took matters into my own hands and ended it myself. I shattered my last chance at survival, cutting my own throat. Because I knew. Julian Sterling wouldn’t save me. He had once cut ties with his family, forfeiting his claim to a billion-dollar inheritance, all to be with me. But on our wedding day, he discovered my mother and I had taken $50,000 from his stepmother. I had supposedly deliberately seduced him, dragging him down from his high pedestal. In the five years we were married, Julian fought his way to become a business mogul. Yet, his parade of mistresses was endless. He even made me personally demonstrate to his pampered playthings how to properly please him in bed. Just ten days ago, I was kidnapped along with his current lover. Everyone knew Julian hated me. That’s why my ransom was $50,000, while hers was $500,000. But Julian didn’t hesitate; he paid the $500,000 and only took Chloe Harper. “You probably staged this yourself, didn’t you? You’ll stop at nothing to con money now.” “I’m giving you this out of charity for Chloe, but if there’s a next time, I’ll throw you into the ocean to feed the sharks.” But he didn’t know. I had truly been tortured for ten agonizing days. Until I died. Mr. Thorne, the Spirit Guide, sighed deeply as he came for my soul. He said my obsession was too strong; even in the afterlife, I’d be a lost soul, forever unable to move on. So, he gave me three sticks of mystic incense. He told me to resolve my obsession before midnight tomorrow, or I would be trapped forever.

Mr. Thorne said that until he officially came for me tomorrow night, I would appear completely normal. So when Julian saw me come home safe and sound, the mockery in his eyes was undisguised. “Back so late? Looks like your little kidnapping performance took a lot out of you.” “Since you got your money, do what you’re supposed to. Go inside and get the strawberry-flavored lube.” He was about to get hot and heavy with Chloe right there in the living room. If it were before, I would have just done as he said, then hidden in my room, covering my ears and weeping. But today, I simply sat calmly on the couch. I pulled out the divorce papers he had given me. “I’ll sign, but I have a condition.” Julian’s face darkened. He hated being threatened, but the lure of divorce was too strong, so he held his temper for now. “What condition? Let’s hear it.” “If it’s too much, don’t blame me for flipping out.” I touched the three sticks of mystic incense Mr. Thorne had given me. “I found a shaman who can create dreams. If you’ll just join me for three dreams, I’ll not only divorce you, but I won’t ask for a single cent of our assets.” “That simple?” Julian scoffed. “If three dreams could get rid of you, you bloodsucker, we would have divorced ages ago.” “Anya, are you trying to trick me again?” I looked at him calmly. There was no anger from his mockery. No guilt, no flinching, none of what he expected from me. Julian realized I was serious, and his expression grew solemn. I knew he was hesitating. Chloe wrapped her arm around his shoulder. “Julian, just agree. What if she changes her mind by tomorrow?” Julian pinched her breast playfully. “Alright, anything for my darling.” He then turned back to me, his eyes devoid of any emotion. “How do we do it?” I swallowed the bitter ache in my eyes. Lowering my head, I took out the first stick and lit it. Mr. Thorne had said the dreams were under my control, and everyone who entered would retain their memories. He told me to use these three dreams wisely to resolve my obsession. I was always unwilling to accept it. Did Julian truly have no love for me, even just a tiny bit? Between me and Chloe, would he always choose Chloe? I set the first dream in our old rental apartment. When Julian first left the Sterling family, we only had $3000 between us. So, all we could afford was this dilapidated basement apartment. Julian, being a spoiled rich kid, wasn’t used to sleeping on rough sheets. So, I took his old shirts—the ones with the softest fabric—and painstakingly cut them up to sew him a new one. Back then, Julian would hold me close, nestled on our cramped double bed, saying he’d make so much money one day and give me a good life. Julian touched the oddly patched bedsheet, a flicker of nostalgia in his eyes. But when he turned to me, he was back to his usual prickly self. “You think this will win my heart back?” “Anya, don’t forget who trapped me in this dump in the first place.” His stare made my heart ache. He started looking around. “Where’s Chloe? Where did you hide her?” Just as he stepped out of the basement, flames erupted from the doorway. The only way out was a small window leading outside. But the window was too high; without someone pulling you from the outside, it was impossible to climb. Chloe was there, screaming in terror by the window. “Julian! Save me!” Julian reached for her, and the flames surged into the room, the wood crackling and popping as it burned. I asked Julian. “There’s not enough time. We can only save one of us, Chloe or me. Who do you choose?” Julian glared at me, his eyes burning. “You’re insane. I’d be out of my mind to save you. I’m saving Chloe!” With that, he pulled Chloe out, comforting her in his arms. The fire in the room grew fiercer, my tears evaporating before they even touched my cheeks. I stood below the window, looking at Julian. “Chloe’s safe now. Will you help me out?” “You should know, this dream feels real. I can feel the pain.” Julian hesitated. He hated me, wanted me dead, but watching a living person burn to ashes was different. But just as he was about to reach out, Chloe suddenly clutched her throat. “Julian, my throat hurts so much. What if I can never sing for you again?” Julian scooped her up without a second thought. “Anya, is there a hospital in this dream? Where is it? Tell me!” I pointed in a direction. He turned and left, leaving me with a complex look in his eyes. There were too many emotions there, and before I could decipher them, thick black smoke enveloped my vision. The dream collapsed. I clutched my chest, coughing incessantly. Julian woke up a moment later, opening his mouth to curse. But seeing me cough like I was about to pass out, he unusually reached out and patted my back. “Anya, are you an idiot?” “You created a dream that hurt yourself like this.” “You’d better learn your lesson for the next two. Don’t do anything so dangerous.” I pushed his hand away. “You don’t need to worry about me. Go comfort your little darling.” Chloe cried incessantly after leaving the dream, her voice only softening when she hid in Julian’s arms. The two shared a comforting kiss. I had no heart left. Yet, my chest ached, a pain so profound it felt like dying all over again. This was the first dream. Julian knew I would die. He knew how dangerous my situation was. But he still chose Chloe.

After the first stick of incense burned out, Mr. Thorne came to see me, his brows deeply furrowed. “Anya, your obsession has grown stronger.” “You have less than twenty-four hours left. If you don’t resolve it, you’ll really turn into a vengeful spirit.” I showed him the first dream. Mr. Thorne was silent too. For a long time, he couldn’t think of anything to comfort me. But what about the second dream? I couldn’t think of a more brutal scenario. Mr. Thorne offered an idea. “How about this? Next time, don’t give Julian time to think.” “I’ve seen your red thread of fate; it’s tied very strongly. Julian can’t be completely devoid of feelings for you. If you make him choose between you and Chloe, you should look for his subconscious reaction.” That night, Julian held a grand party in the suburbs. When I was called over, I heard him clinking glasses with his buddies at the door. “Guys, Anya is finally divorcing me!” “Go wild tonight; all the drinks are on me!” Pushing open the door, I saw wedding photos, cut in half, plastered everywhere. Julian saw me enter, put his arm around Chloe, and tossed our wedding ring into the swimming pool. Everyone present burst into laughter. They were betting whether I would jump in to retrieve the ring. But I just walked straight over. I picked up a glass and clinked it against Julian’s. “Congratulations. You’re about to get what you want.” Then I downed the drink in one gulp. In our poorest year, I worked sixteen-hour days to give Julian a better life, developing severe stomach problems. But I was already dead now, what was a little alcohol? Julian turned his head away. His eyes seemed to redden for a fleeting second. But when he turned back, it was as if my previous observation had been an illusion. He stared into my eyes. “You wouldn’t mind playing a love song for Chloe and me, would you?” Everyone was watching me, enjoying the spectacle. Mr. Sterling’s “trouble-and-strife” wife, forced to congratulate the new couple at her own dismissal party. But I said nothing. I sat at the piano and began to play ‘Love Letter.’ I had specially practiced this song to win Julian’s heart. I could feel his gaze on my back, still as ardent as when we were in love. But from the fourth measure, I started to hit sour notes. The kidnappers had chopped off my ten fingers. Although they looked normal now, they were soft as noodles, completely without strength. Julian’s face grew darker and darker. Finally, he slammed the piano lid shut. “Anya, are you doing this on purpose? Is playing a song for me really that much of a chore?” “Or was your playing for me back then all a lie, too?” I pulled my hand out. Deep red marks were pressed onto it. Julian froze for a moment. He touched my hand, flinching back from the icy cold. “Why are you so cold? Are you not feeling well?” A dead person’s hand, of course, couldn’t be warmed. I looked at Julian. How long had it been since he cared about my body? I couldn’t remember. Julian’s mood soured, and he abruptly cut the party short. After seeing everyone off, only Chloe, Julian, and I remained at the villa gate, waiting for the car. Chloe extended her hand and waved it at me. A diamond, at least five carats, flashed blindingly on it. I remembered Mr. Thorne’s words, pulled out the second stick of incense, and lit it. A truck suddenly roared towards us from the distance. Julian had Chloe on his left and me on his right. Everything slowed down before my eyes. I saw Julian push Chloe to the left, holding her close. I saw the truck hit me, running over my legs. The second dream shattered instantly. There was no truck, no accident. Chloe and Julian were unharmed, but I collapsed to the ground from the searing pain throughout my body. Julian shook his head hard, taking a long moment to confirm that what had just happened was only my second dream. He roughly pulled me up and slapped me. “Are you insane, Anya?” “If the third dream is like this again, I swear I’ll strangle you.” But I just laughed, a bitter, hollow laugh. It made my tears well up. Mr. Thorne had gambled wrong again. Even if it was just a physical reaction, between me and Chloe, Julian still wouldn’t choose me.

Julian kept saying I was truly insane, seeing the look on my face. Just then, I received a notification from the hospital. “Ms. Anya, your mother’s condition is very poor. Please come to the hospital immediately.” I tugged on Julian’s sleeve, begging him to drive me to the hospital. But Julian hated my mother even more. He’d probably throw a party if she died, and he just pulled Chloe into the car and drove off. I hobbled to the hospital. My mother’s eyes couldn’t focus anymore. She looked at me, her expression a little confused. “Anya, why can’t I see your feet?” Perhaps she was dying and seeing my soul. I brushed it off. “You’re mistaken.” My mother started to sob. “Anya, I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I shouldn’t have taken that $50,000 back then. It made Julian resent you, and your illness was never cured, burdening you for so long.” The money was accepted by my mother and deposited into my account. When Julian’s stepmother showed him our transaction records, I was utterly lost for words, with no way to defend myself. But now, it was all in the past. I couldn’t let my mother die uneasy. I just kept comforting her: “It’s okay, it’s all over now.” My mother said she wanted to apologize to Julian. I stopped her. What was the point of dwelling on right and wrong now? Julian was convinced I had tricked him; he’d only think my mother was fabricating another lie. I personally closed my mother’s eyes. Mr. Thorne took my mother’s soul, pacing back and forth in front of me, worried about my lingering obsession. But I had seen through it all. I thought I didn’t need any more dangerous scenarios to test Julian. Faced with a threat to life, he would certainly choose Chloe. If he could just stay with me for once, I could let go. When Julian came home, I placed a bowl of simple rice, a traditional mourning meal for the departed, on the table. “My mother died. Our old custom is to eat a bowl of remembrance rice for the dead. If you eat it, I’ll divorce you.” Julian was startled. “Is this the third dream?” Of course not. Before I could speak, Chloe’s call came in. “Julian, I did fifty squats today, don’t you want to reward me?” Then she started to whine. “Come on, my stamina’s much better now. Let’s try something new.” Julian hadn’t even warmed his seat before grabbing his jacket and heading for the door. I grabbed his sleeve. “This is the last time. Julian, are you not going to divorce me?” “You wouldn’t still want to be with me, would you?” Julian scoffed. “Don’t try to threaten me with divorce.” “And what if we don’t divorce? Your mother’s dead. No medical bills. How much can it cost me to keep you? I’ll just treat you like a blow-up doll.” I let go of his sleeve and watched him walk out the door. I sat by the table and ate the bowl of remembrance rice for my mother myself. Julian suddenly ran back, throwing a red envelope into my lap. “Didn’t you say your mother died?” “Go buy something to celebrate.” A sudden lightness filled me. It was as if a heavy chain had been lifted from my heart. I smiled at him, and my body began to vanish before his eyes, like erased marks from an eraser. Julian reached out to grab me, but his hand met only air. He probably thought he was dreaming, only pausing for a moment in confusion before walking out the door. Julian lay on the bed with Chloe in his arms, his hand pausing as he unclasped her bra. He suddenly realized why this dream had been so long. Without bothering to get dressed, he rushed home. But he searched every corner of the house and couldn’t find Anya. A sudden, indescribable panic welled up inside him. He remembered Anya’s words and called the hospital. The nurse’s emotionless voice came through. “You’re asking about Ms. Anya’s mother? She passed away two hours ago. Ms. Anya said she would be cremated tomorrow.” “Oh, by the way, her mother left a letter. I’ll send you a photo.” Julian opened the image. A few lines were scrawled crookedly on it. [Julian, when your stepmother paid me, Anya truly knew nothing about it. It was all my fault. I don’t ask for your forgiveness, only that you treat Anya a little better. She anonymously transferred a lot of money to support your business; she wouldn’t let me tell you. If you don’t like her, then divorce her.] Those few lines were like a dagger, plunging deep into Julian Sterling’s soul. He didn’t know why his heart ached so fiercely, as if it were about to crack open. He kept mumbling, “I don’t believe it, it’s impossible.”

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I used to be a professional ghost-tester. I’d kept my nose clean for years. But to get my ambitious boyfriend into his dream university, I decided to quietly take on his case. The day before the exam, he even got down on one knee and proposed. My heart pounded, ready to tell him I’d make his dreams come true. Then, I overheard his conversation with his buddies: “Julian, it’s just a bit of fun, right? You’re not actually going to marry Blair Hayes?” “Hahaha, of course not! How could I marry some trailer park girl? She was just a temporary thrill.” He paused, a smirk playing on his lips, then added, “Besides, Seraphina’s coming back soon. Grandpa always disapproved of her, so I’ll just pick someone utterly unpresentable. The family will definitely object, and then I’ll have a perfectly legitimate excuse to marry Seraphina.” “Brilliant, absolutely brilliant! You really have all your bases covered, man…” “Oh, right, didn’t the old man say he’d only hand over the family fortune once you got into Stanton University?” “Don’t worry, I’ve got that covered. I hired a genius ghost-tester. Why do you think I was with Blair Hayes in the first place? To get all my exams aced! Now that she’s banned from taking tests, she’s useless anyway.” My grip tightened on the exam admission ticket in my hand. I ended up getting Julian a 2.50.

“How did you do?” It was a text from Julian’s burner phone. “Don’t worry, I guarantee you’ll be ‘satisfied.’” After I sent it, I squeezed my phone tight. Oh, Julian, this score? You’re going to *love* it. Three days ago, the scene of Julian kneeling before me, proposing, was still vivid in my mind. Tears welled in his eyes, and he said I was the most important person in his life. Now, it all seemed so laughable. Back home, Julian had just gone into the bathroom. On the couch, his phone screen was still lit, showing a SnapChat group chat called “The Bro Zone.” The messages that flashed across the screen made my stomach clench into a painful knot. They were private photos and videos of me and him, during our most intimate moments. He’d posted them all in that group, accompanied by vile comments. “Trailer park girls really let loose.” “Julian’s done with her, can I have a turn?” “Girls like her? Throw some cash, and they’ll do anything.” The latest message was from Julian: “Seraphina’s coming back tomorrow. Finally, I don’t have to pretend to be deeply in love anymore. This girl actually thought I was going to marry her, LOL. With her background, she’s not even fit to be a maid in my house.” I bit down on my lower lip, hard, until I tasted blood. My phone trembled in my hand, not from sorrow, but from a raging fury. What I’d believed was love, in Julian’s eyes, was nothing more than a game, and I was just the clown there for his and his friends’ amusement. The toilet flushed in the bathroom, and I quickly put his phone back, a docile smile plastered back onto my face. When Julian came out, I was kneeling on the floor, polishing his leather shoes, just as I often did over the past six months. He looked down at me, his gaze as dismissive as if I were a dog. Then he spoke, “Seraphina’s coming back tomorrow. I need to pick her up at the airport. You can grab dinner on your own tonight.” I looked up, blinking innocently, feigning confusion. “Seraphina?” “Just an old friend,” he said dismissively. “You wouldn’t know her.” I lowered my head, continuing to polish his shoes, hiding the icy coldness in my eyes. Of course, I knew exactly who Seraphina Vance was – Julian’s childhood sweetheart. After Julian left, I opened my laptop and started searching for everything I could find on Sterling Corp. I needed to understand my enemy if I was going to deliver a fatal blow. Three days later. Julian suddenly appeared at my doorstep, holding a massive bouquet of roses, his face sporting that familiar, ‘sincere’ expression. “My father wants to meet you.” He finally revealed his true purpose. “He… he approved of us.” I raised an eyebrow. “Approved of what?” “Our marriage.” Julian said urgently, “Just come home with me tomorrow to meet him.” I almost burst out laughing. Julian’s sudden change was too suspicious. There had to be a catch. But I decided to play along. “Really?” I feigned surprise. “Your father really agreed?” “Yes!” Julian grabbed my hand. “As long as you make a good impression, we’ll be married very soon.” I lowered my head, concealing the calculation swirling in my eyes. Meet Mr. Sterling? Oh, this was *perfectly* playing into my hands. “Okay, I’ll go,” I said softly.

Julian drove me to the Sterling family’s sprawling estate in the suburbs. I wore my plainest white dress and flat shoes, feeling utterly out of place amidst the opulent surroundings. “Remember,” Julian specifically instructed me before we got out of the car, “talk a lot, smile less, don’t be stiff. Just relax and be yourself. My father doesn’t like overly formal women.” I nodded. In truth, I knew perfectly well that this kind of old-money family valued elegance and composure above all else. Julian was telling me to be casual only because he wanted me to make a fool of myself in front of everyone. As soon as we entered, the Sterling family members eyed me with scrutinizing looks, as if I were a cheap knock-off. “Is *that* the trailer park girl? Ugh, she practically *screams* low-rent.” Someone snickered. “Julian, your taste is getting worse and worse.” “Right? Each one’s worse than the last. Honestly, she’s not even as good as Seraphina Vance…” Julian didn’t object. He just smirked, a look of triumph on his face. I stood my ground, my fingers gripping the hem of my dress tightly, but keeping a polite smile. “I hear your folks run a fish stand at the local market, don’t they?” “No wonder she smells like fish as soon as she walks in.” This comment sparked another round of laughter. Julian, especially, was practically bursting with laughter. This was exactly the reaction he wanted today. I was like a clown, there specifically for them to insult. But I just kept smiling. For revenge, I had no choice but to endure. “Enough.” A commanding voice echoed from the staircase, and everyone instantly fell silent. Mr. Sterling pointed at me. “You, come with me to the study. Everyone else, disperse.” Under the gazes of either jealousy or schadenfreude, I followed Mr. Sterling into the study on the second floor. Once I sat down, before Mr. Sterling could speak, I picked up the paper and pen on the desk and began writing from memory. It was this year’s Stanton University entrance exam. Mr. Sterling’s expression shifted from skepticism to surprise, and finally, to admiration. “Julian came to you because he wanted you to take the Stanton entrance exam for him, didn’t he?” I didn’t answer immediately. This was a dangerous moment—if I admitted it, Julian would hate me to my core. But if I denied it, my revenge plan couldn’t continue. Ultimately, I chose the truth. “I took it for him,” I said, a sarcastic smile touching my lips. “2.5 points.” Unexpectedly, Mr. Sterling suddenly burst out laughing. “Good! Good!” He slapped the table. “That waste of a son, Julian! He can’t even cheat properly!” I looked at him in surprise, not understanding his reaction. “I suspected Julian would find someone to take the exam for him. That good-for-nothing has never done anything on his own merits, not since he was a kid.” “There’s one thing I need you to do…” Two hours later, I walked out of the study. The Sterling family in the living room, seeing my expression, all broke into smiles of schadenfreude. “Got kicked out?” Julian’s Aunt Carol shrieked. I lowered my head, said nothing, and hurried toward the front door. Julian said casually, “Scared her speechless, didn’t it? I knew my dad wouldn’t agree. From now on, we’re going our separate ways. My family is simply way out of your league…” I suddenly looked up, a brilliant smile spreading across my face. “He… he said he agreed to our marriage.” Julian’s face instantly went pale. “What? No way! He’s always been so picky…” “How could he possibly approve of *you*?!” “You’re lying! You don’t deserve it…” Julian let go of my arm, stumbling back a few steps. “It’s over… it’s all over…” Looks like his little game just blew up in his face. Watching Julian in such a panic, my heart sang with cold satisfaction. This was just the first step, Julian. You’re going to *love* what’s coming.

News of my engagement to Julian exploded like a bombshell through the city’s elite circles. The one who took it the hardest, of course, was Seraphina Vance. To appease her, Julian shoved the tip of his polished leather shoe into the back of my knee, forcing my kneecap to crack against the hard floor. “Apologize.” His voice came from above me, cold as ice. The eyes of those around us, filled with either pity or mockery, fell upon me. “I’m sorry, Miss Vance.” I gritted my teeth, forcing myself to endure. My nails dug deep into my palms, the pain keeping my voice steady. “I shouldn’t have… taken your rightful place.” Seraphina suddenly leaned down, gripping my chin and forcing my head up. “Julian and I grew up together. Who do you think you are? A fishmonger’s daughter? You’re not even fit to polish my shoes.” A few snickers rippled through the onlookers. From the corner of my eye, I saw Julian’s lips curve into a slight smirk—he was enjoying this moment. “Seraphina, don’t stoop to her level.” Julian wrapped an arm around Seraphina’s waist, his voice sickeningly affectionate. “Come on, I’ll take you to that Japanese restaurant you love.” That night, fireworks exploded across the city sky, lighting it up all night. News alerts popped up constantly. [STERLING SCION DROPS SERIOUS CASH FOR HIS LADY LOVE] [STERLING HEIR LIGHTS UP THE SKY WITH CUSTOM FIREWORKS – EACH ONE COSTING SIX FIGURES!] [BREAKING: JULIAN STERLING TRANSFERS 5% OF STERLING CORP. SHARES TO SERAPHINA VANCE, VALUED AT $980 MILLION!] These shares were core assets Julian was set to inherit. Seeing him squander them like this… It was no wonder Mr. Sterling had a contingency plan. The front door was suddenly kicked open. Julian stormed in, drenched, with Seraphina, equally soaked, trailing behind him. She was wrapped in Julian’s tailored blazer, and he was looking at her with an intensity I’d never seen directed at me. Julian’s face twisted the moment he saw me. “What are you still doing here?” I offered my standard sweet smile. “Dad told me to stay here. He said to wait for you.” Seraphina suddenly giggled. “Look at your fiancée, Julian, she’s like a pathetic little guard dog!” Julian’s face instantly darkened. “Dad told you to stay here?” He sneered. “How come *I* don’t know about it?” “Mr. Sterling called personally this afternoon. Said for me to get ready for the wedding.” Julian’s eyebrow twitched violently. Mr. Sterling had never been fond of Seraphina; Julian knew that better than anyone. Yet, Seraphina, banking on Julian’s blatant favoritism, had never bothered to show respect to anyone. And now, she sat on the couch, legs crossed, pointing a manicured finger at me with an infuriating air of entitlement— “Julian, my foot hurts. Tell her to rub it.” The air instantly froze. Julian narrowed his eyes. He spoke coldly, “You. Come here.” —He wanted me to kneel and rub Seraphina’s foot? Seeing my lack of reaction, Julian’s eyes turned menacing. “What, did you suddenly forget how to understand English?” I took a deep breath and slowly walked toward her. Just as I was about to bend my knees— “Enough!” A commanding voice roared from the staircase. Mr. Sterling stood there, leaning on his cane, his face terrifyingly grim. “Dad…” Julian’s expression instantly changed. Seraphina panicked too, quickly putting her feet down and standing up awkwardly. “Mr. S-Sterling…” Mr. Sterling didn’t even spare her a glance. “My Sterling family’s future daughter-in-law is not for outsiders to order around.” His voice wasn’t loud, but it was like a slap, landing hard across Seraphina’s face. Seraphina’s face went chalk-white. “Mr. Sterling, I… I was just…” “Just what?” Mr. Sterling sneered. He continued, “Miss Vance, I hear your ‘studies’ abroad were quite *eventful*?” Seraphina trembled from head to toe. “Her drug abuse, her compulsive gambling, her… *indiscretions* abroad,” Mr. Sterling’s words, sharp as knives, sliced into her. “The doors of the Sterling family are not open to someone with your… *habits*.” Seraphina’s face instantly turned ashen. She whipped her head around to look at Julian, her eyes wide with panic. “Julian, I…” But Julian didn’t speak this time. Mr. Sterling scoffed, then directly ordered the butler, “Show her out.” Seraphina panicked, reaching out to tug Julian’s sleeve. “Julian! Say something!” Julian was silent for a few seconds. Finally, he slowly pulled his hand away, his voice low. “Seraphina, you should go home.” Seraphina stared at him in disbelief, her eyes shifting from shock to resentment, finally fixating on me— “Blair Hayes, you just wait!” As she left, her venomous gaze seemed to promise she’d tear me apart. 4 After Seraphina left, a strange silence fell over the entire living room. Julian stared at Mr. Sterling, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “Dad, aren’t you being a bit too harsh? Seraphina was just confused for a moment…”

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“Sweetie, I’ve picked two game scenarios for you. You’ll be playing guiding NPCs, so you won’t have to do any killing or arson. Just give players some hints at the right moments,” my father said, his towering 6’6″ frame looming over me with a kindly expression. I nodded helplessly, indicating that I understood. At this point, I’d take any job he offered, even if it meant being the horror boss myself. “Remember, no workplace bullying, alright? Get along well with those boss colleagues of yours,” my dad reminded me as he pressed the transfer button, still reluctant to let me go. [Welcome to Naranmud Academy] [Naranmud is a renowned international high school where you can gain knowledge, broaden your horizons, and enter your dream university.] [However, the school has strict rules. Please follow them carefully.] […] I stared at the professional broadcasting equipment before me, utterly confused. What was going on? A sweet system voice chimed in the room: “Welcome to the NPC team for this horror game! Let me introduce you to your job responsibilities.” Still bewildered, I sat down in the chair and was about to pick up the work manual on the desk when a low, slightly hoarse voice sounded behind me. “Bootlicker.” Huh? Who’s he calling a bootlicker? A tall, muscular figure cast a looming shadow over me. Golden-brown hair, steel-blue eyes, and a face hidden behind a mask. He licked his pale red lips, staring at me unblinkingly as he asked, “Nepotism hire? Pretty gutsy.” “How can you tell I got in through connections?” He jerked his head towards the system that had just spoken. “I’ve been here five years, and this is the first time I’ve heard it speak in that sickeningly sweet voice instead of its usual robotic tone.” Oh, so he was calling the system a bootlicker. I laughed awkwardly, making a mental note. This must be the boss of this game scenario, my first workplace colleague. I had to make a good impression! I extended my hand towards him. “Hi, I’m Lily. I’m new here, please take care of me.” His large, calloused hand enveloped mine, sending an instinctive shiver through me as he rubbed his fingers together. His lips moved slightly as he uttered a name. “Anderson.” He sat down in another chair and began adjusting the broadcasting equipment. “Your job is to read the text from the manual over the PA system, guiding players to the next plot point when they reach certain triggers. It’s safe here; no one can harm you. The game starts in ten minutes, so get ready.” His steel-blue eyes glanced over at me. “Any questions?” I scratched my head. “Actually, yes.” I pointed at his eyes. “Do they make colored contacts in horror games?” Anderson paused for a moment, then a hint of resignation appeared in his eyes. “I’m mixed-race. This is my natural eye color.” The crimson doors swung open with a bang, and a group of people cautiously peered inside the school. A clear voice came over the PA system. [Welcome to Naranmud Academy.] [Naranmud is a renowned international high school where you can gain knowledge, broaden your horizons, and enter your dream university.] [However, the school has strict rules. Please follow them carefully, or terrible things may happen.] [Rule One: No dating allowed on campus.] [Rule Two: The infirmary is off-limits after midnight.] … The group’s expressions grew increasingly grim. Invisible to the players, blood-red comments floated through the air. [Finally, the Maddog’s stream is here!] [He may be crazy, but his sex appeal is off the charts. Sigh…] [Hey, the broadcast voice changed. It sounds pretty nice.] [Hurry up and start! I want to see Maddog kill someone already.] … In a dark, dilapidated hallway, a group stumbled along, their ragged breathing and muffled curses mixing to create a heart-pounding escape scene. “Damn, this madman just won’t give up!” “How unlucky can we get? We’re going to die in this scenario today.” The tall, muscular man maintained a constant distance behind them, like a cruel cat toying with fleeing mice. I watched this scene on the large screen before me, unsure how to feel. Anderson had shed the calm facade I’d seen earlier, revealing a bloodthirsty interior. The massive saw that looked impossibly heavy seemed like a toy in his hands. He excitedly revved it up, the sharp blade striking sparks as it touched the ground. The leader of the escapees gritted his teeth, suddenly stopping to throw back an item. A cloud of smoke billowed out, and Anderson disappeared. The leader smirked triumphantly, turning to continue his escape—only to freeze as his gaze met the tall man’s. The hunter, bored with this game of cat and mouse, brought down his gleaming saw in an unavoidable arc. [That was awesome!] [As expected of Maddog. I’d call this the art of violence.] [Hubby is so cool! I want to discuss some human reproduction knowledge with him.] [To the person above, I’ll say it again: fangirls shouldn’t watch these streams.] … The 3-day scenario ended in less than 2.5 days with all players dead. The stream closed. Anderson wiped down his saw blade and spoke up: “Leaving already?” I glanced at him and sighed. “Yeah, us working stiffs have no rights. Gotta go slave away for the capitalists at my other job.” I work seven days a week—Monday to Wednesday here in Anderson’s scenario, Thursday to Saturday in another, with Sunday off. I trudged out with heavy steps, completely missing the look Anderson gave me. A dangerous, meaningful gaze that licked from head to toe over my gradually retreating figure. The pale neck, the waist hidden under clothes, down to the ankles that could be grasped in one hand… “Lily…” he murmured. [Welcome to The Shining] [You’ve checked into the Farview Hotel. The facilities are excellent and the environment is cozy. You like it here, but soon you notice something’s not quite right.] [Try to survive for 72 hours, dear player.] As the white light faded, I recovered from the dizziness of spatial transfer and looked down at my uniform. Lace trim, a black and gold belt, an elegant uniform that clung to my body, and snow-white gloves that fit my hands perfectly. I glanced at the cocktail glass on the bar. So my NPC role this time is a bartender? Just then, I heard a rustling sound nearby. It seemed to be… coming from under the bar. I bent down to look. A young man was curled up there, his chest heaving slightly. He looked extremely uncomfortable. I reached out to pull him up. “Are you okay? Not feeling well?” Unexpectedly, a pair of slender hands grabbed my wrist, holding it in mid-air. The young man’s face was flushed, his eyes brimming with moisture as he gazed at me longingly: “Big sis, I feel so awful.” He tilted his head towards my wrist, his bright red tongue darting out to lick along the edge of my glove and slip inside, caressing my skin. My pulse quickened slightly, as if welcoming the teasing of his lips and tongue. As he licked, he raised his pitch-black eyes to look at me, greed and madness on full display. My heart skipped a beat. “Aiden, let her go.” A mellow voice sounded behind me. I jumped, hurriedly pulling my hand away. Another young man stood there, tall and handsome with black hair and eyes. He frowned at me. “I’m sorry, miss. He’s my brother. Please excuse his rudeness earlier.” I shook my head to indicate it was fine. He walked over and roughly yanked Aiden up. Aiden’s expression gradually shifted from infatuation to clarity. “My name is Ethan. We’re the bosses here. You must be the new NPC, right? Let me explain your job to you.” He pulled out a bar stool and gestured for me to sit. When both brothers stood before me, I was surprised to find they looked extremely alike—same height, same face, same clothes, like mirror images of each other. But despite their similarity, they were easy to tell apart. The one with a gentle, non-threatening aura was the older brother Ethan. The one with an obsessive, predatory gaze was the younger brother Aiden. “Your bar will only appear when players trigger certain quest points. You just need to give them clues to guide them along. It’s very simple and completely safe,” Ethan said with a slight smile. “Well, if you don’t have any questions, we’ll be going now. The game is about to start.” They gradually disappeared down the hallway. In the darkness, the twins’ footsteps were eerily in sync. Aiden rapturously sniffed the hand that had touched the new bartender, a dissatisfied whine escaping his throat: “I want… I want to eat big sis up…” Ethan licked his canine teeth, also struggling to control himself as he reassured his brother: “Wait a little longer. We’d scare her off now. Just wait…” The crimson carpet was like thick blood, countless branching corridors resembling spreading veins. A player huddled in a hidden corner, body trembling almost imperceptibly. He was the last player left. If he could just avoid detection for five more minutes, he would survive. He kept reassuring himself. “Bingo, found you.” An amused voice sounded by his ear. The player looked up in panic, eyes filled with disbelief and despair. Vines burst forth, tearing his body apart before he could even scream. [Yay! Congrats to big bro on getting the final kill.] [What? I lost my bet. Can’t believe little bro got so many fewer kills!] [That guy was so close, the scenario was about to end.] [You clearly don’t know, newbie. This is big bro’s signature move—letting people see a glimmer of hope, then crushing it before their eyes.] … Before closing time, Ethan came to me looking a bit embarrassed. “Aiden got hurt and wants you to bandage him. He won’t let me touch him. Could you help, miss?” “Of course.” I poured disinfectant over the gruesome gash on Aiden’s arm. It must have been extremely painful, but he didn’t make a sound, just stared at me with blatant, feverish eyes. I finished bandaging under that gaze, sweating profusely. After tying a neat butterfly knot, I tried to stand up. Aiden suddenly flipped his palm over, loosely grasping my wrist for a moment before letting go. His beautiful lips curved into a smile, his slightly lowered voice thick with desire. “Thank you, big sis.” I quickly grew accustomed to this kind of work. Monday through Wednesday, I was the broadcaster at Anderson’s place, guiding players to the next quest point and occasionally oiling Anderson’s saw. Out of courtesy, Anderson would sketch portraits of me in return. He was an excellent artist. On many warm afternoons, we’d sit in the empty, blood-stained playground. I’d doze off as I posed, while his pencil flew across the paper, his steel-blue eyes peering at me over the easel. Thursday through Saturday, I was the bartender for the twins, providing clues to players who triggered plot points and sometimes bandaging Ethan or Aiden’s wounds. They’d beg me to mix them drinks, listening to stories about the odd things I encountered outside the game as we waited. On Sundays, I’d go home to eat the meals my dad cooked, listening to his worried questions about whether my job was going well or if my colleagues were bullying me. I’d think of my coworkers’ smiling eyes and shake my head, telling him not to worry. Another Monday arrived. The broadcast announced, [Will the two students please report to the administration office immediately.] My melodious voice did nothing to ease the players’ terror. In fact, it seemed to make them even more frightened. Behind the microphone, I also frowned. In all my time here, this was the first hidden plot point to be triggered. The two players were a couple—the man a high-level medium, the woman a healer. Working in perfect sync, they had narrowly escaped Anderson’s pursuit, triggering the first school rule: [No dating allowed]. A large black door slowly materialized behind them, emanating an ominous aura. A gilded plaque hung on it, bearing three words: [Administration Office]. They approached uncertainly. Through the door, the man timidly activated his medium abilities. Moments later, he suddenly clutched his chest and coughed up blood. “What’s inside?” the woman asked, supporting him anxiously. “Fire… a huge fire…” “Fire?” [Will the two students please report to the administration office immediately.] The broadcast repeated its urgent summons. The woman bit her lip and, supporting the man, pushed open the door. The door slammed against the wall, stirring up a thin layer of dust. Surprisingly, there was no fire as the man had sensed. The small room was filled with dust, its contents visible at a glance. A row of bookshelves stood at the far end. The woman slowly walked over. I stared intently at the woman’s actions on the screen. She flipped through the messy books and papers on the shelf, pulling out a file folder. The moment my eyes fell on the folder, my pupils constricted. There in the name field was clearly written: Anderson. Followed by the enrollment date: May 1, 20XX. The woman on screen froze. She turned back in horror to find Anderson standing in the doorway, his steel-blue eyes filled with violent killing intent, a glimpse of sharp white teeth visible like a wild beast’s fangs. “Ladies and gentlemen, game over,” he said.

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My sister is dead. Torn into pieces, flushed down the drain. The police searched for three days and only found a snippet of her pinky finger – Still wearing the strawberry hair tie I gave her for her birthday. No one in our family seemed sad, except for me. Mom made me a strawberry cake, and Dad put an arm around my shoulder, whispering, “Don’t be scared, we’re here for you.” But just a week ago, they’d twisted my hair and cursed me, calling me a “worthless freeloader,” Saying they should have just dumped me somewhere and left me to rot. As the funeral incense burned late into the night, my phone suddenly vibrated. It was a timed message. Sender: My Sister. “Sis, I found out Mom and Dad’s secret, they’re not even—” It poured rain at Lily’s funeral. I stood under a black umbrella, watching the small casket slowly lowered into the earth, and couldn’t stop the tears. It felt like just days ago, Lily and I were playing games together, those moments still so vivid. Now, she was gone, separated by life and death. I wished so badly that this was all a terrible dream. “My deepest condolences,” the relatives recited their platitudes mechanically, like NPCs completing a quest. I turned to look at Mom and Dad standing next to me. Mom wore a black suit, her makeup so perfect it looked like she was going to a gala; Dad stared blankly at the tombstone, his eyes hollow, as if looking at an ordinary rock. There wasn’t a trace of grief on their faces. Ding-dong, my phone buzzed. It was Lily’s timed text message. “Sis, I found out Mom and Dad’s secret, they’re not even—” The message cut off abruptly right there. I felt a chill crawl over me and looked up, only to find Mom and Dad staring intently at me. I stood frozen, afraid to move.

Mom walked over, took my hand, and gave me a dazzling smile: “Don’t be sad, Chloe. When we get home, Mom will make you a strawberry cake, your favorite, remember?” I froze. Strawberry cake? Mom hadn’t made me any desserts since I was ten. She always said sweets would make people stupid, and I needed to keep my mind sharp to get into a good university. Dad, too, was unusually affectionate, putting an arm around my shoulder and softly saying, “Tonight, Dad will play games with you. We can even play all night, no problem.” A shiver ran down my spine. My dad was a stern man. Growing up, the most common phrase he ever said to me was “Go study.” He even threw my secretly bought game console out of the window when I was in middle school, shattering it. On the way home, I sat in the backseat, looking at Mom and Dad’s backs in the front, feeling an indescribable creepiness. They were acting too strangely today, so strangely… they didn’t seem like themselves. A week ago, they were pointing fingers at me and yelling: “You good-for-nothing! If you don’t get into a good university, get out! If we hadn’t had to raise you, we’d be living in a mansion by now!” And now, they were being so kind it sent shivers down my spine.

Back home, Mom really started making the strawberry cake. I stood at the kitchen doorway, watching her hum a tune as she stirred the batter, my hands trembling involuntarily. “Mom, aren’t you sad? Lily… she was buried today,” I cautiously asked. Mom paused her movements for a second, then turned her head, her face still wearing that unnatural smile: “Sad about what? She just went ahead of us, that’s all. Come, taste this cream, is it sweet enough?” She held out a spoon with cream on it towards my mouth, her eyes disturbingly eager. I instinctively took a step back. “I’m not hungry yet… I’ll just go back to my room first.” I practically fled upstairs, only to bump into Dad at the staircase landing. In his hand was the Candyland board game I loved to play when I was little – he’d thrown that game into the trash when I was eight because he said it would distract me from studying. “How about we play this tonight?” Dad’s voice was unfamiliar in its tenderness, “Just like when you were a kid.” My heart was pounding hard. Something was wrong, everything was wrong. I forced a nod, hurried into my room, locked the door, and leaned against it, gasping for breath.

It was too bizarre. What was going on with Mom and Dad? And that text message from Lily, Mom and Dad’s secret, what could it be? That sentence, “they’re not even—” Not even what? A pile of mysteries swirled around me, making me toss and turn, unable to sleep. When the clock struck 1:17 AM, I couldn’t take it anymore. I carefully slipped out from under my covers, planning to go to Lily’s room to see if I could find any clues. The hallway was pitch black. I crept along the wall, holding my breath as I passed Mom and Dad’s room. No light seeped from under their door, and I could hear their steady breathing, so they must have been asleep. Lily’s room was at the end of the hallway. A thin layer of dust had settled on the doorknob; no one had gone in since the funeral. When I turned the knob, the metal made a faint scratching sound, piercingly loud in the silence. “Lily, it’s me…” I whispered, as if she could still hear me. The room remained exactly as Lily had left it that day. The bed was neatly made, and her unfinished math homework was spread out on her desk. I opened the drawer of her nightstand and my fingers brushed against a hardcover notebook – Lily’s diary. I opened to the first page, dated three months ago. “May 12th, Sunny. Saw that man in black again after school today. He was standing under the sycamore tree by the school gate, wearing sunglasses, but I could feel him watching me. This is the third time…” A man in black? Lily had never mentioned this. Could he have killed her? I flipped to the next page. “May 15th, Cloudy. I told Mom and Dad someone was following me, but they just said I was imagining things. But tonight, when I got up to use the restroom, I saw the kitchen light on. Dad was standing there… What was he eating? Something red, dripping liquid… I quietly slipped back to my room, pretending I hadn’t seen anything.” A shiver ran down my back. I remembered a metallic smell in the kitchen that morning. Mom had said she accidentally cut her finger. The next few pages were torn out. I quickly flipped through until I saw the entry from a week ago. “June 3rd, Rainy. I know. They’re not human. Last night, I pretended to be asleep and heard strange noises coming from their room. I peeked through the keyhole… Oh my god, what was that? Dad’s face… melting like wax and reforming… Mom said, ‘There’s not much time left, we can’t show any flaws.’ What are they talking about? Tomorrow, I need to ask Chloe for help…” Reading this, my throat tightened, and my fingertips went cold. Mom and Dad weren’t human. Then what were these things I’d been living with for the past few days? Monsters? Why were they being so nice to me now? I trembled as I turned to the last page. There were only a few shaky lines, as if written in a hurry: “If you see this, the rules are still in effect. Remember these three, and never break them, no matter what happens: 1. After midnight, if ‘Mom and Dad’ come to tell you to go to sleep, do not look at their feet. If they are standing side-by-side in black slippers, immediately close your eyes and count to 100. Those are not the real Mom and Dad. 2. Every morning, you must check the bottom shelf of the refrigerator. If you find meat wrapped in red cling film, immediately sprinkle salt on it and then tell Mom, ‘Today’s milk is spoiled.’ Do not ask where the meat came from. 3. The family photo in the living room must always show 4 people. If it turns into 3 or 5, find the person who is extra or missing from the photo before sunset.” Just as I was about to look for other clues, a faint sound suddenly came from behind me.

Click. I slammed the diary shut and spun around to face the door. I had locked it just moments ago, but now it was ajar. “Chloe?” Mom’s voice drifted from outside, impossibly soft, “What are you doing in Lily’s room so late?” My heart pounded like a drum. I slowly looked up and saw Mom and Dad standing in the doorway. Mom wore a white nightgown, Dad blue striped pajamas. Their faces looked eerily pale in the dim light of the hallway lamp. “I… I just…” My voice caught in my throat. My gaze uncontrollably dropped downwards – two pairs of black slippers, standing side-by-side on the threshold, toes pointing directly at me. The diary slipped from my trembling hand. “It’s time for bed, Chloe.” Dad said, his lips stretched into an arc, but his eyes held no trace of a smile, “You have school tomorrow.” They both took a step forward simultaneously, their movements so synchronized it was like they were one person. I suddenly noticed that their eyelids didn’t blink, and their chests didn’t rise and fall with breath. The first rule from the diary flashed in my mind. I squeezed my eyes shut and began counting silently in my head: 1, 2, 3… “Chloe.” Mom’s voice was suddenly right beside me. I smelled a strange, metallic sweetness, “Why aren’t you looking at Mom?” Icy fingers brushed my cheek, sticky and cold. I gritted my teeth and continued counting: …54, 55, 56… “She found out.” Dad’s voice came from the other direction, his tone as flat as if discussing the weather, “Should we start over?” “Not yet,” Mom’s reply carried a strange, eerie laugh, “Let’s wait a bit longer.” My counting was interrupted. I opened my eyes just a slit – and saw their feet. Above the black slippers, their pale ankles each had a ring of stitches, looking like they’d been severed and sewn back on. “Go back to your room, Chloe.” They said in unison, their voices resonating eerily in the air, “Now.” I stumbled out of the room, my heart threatening to burst through my chest. The hallway walls seemed to breathe, and a family photo in the darkness seemed to watch me. I instinctively glanced at the closest one – in the photo, Lily stood on the far end, and where I should be, there was a blurry, unrecognizable figure. After rushing into my own room and locking the door, I slid to the floor, my back against the door. Lily was dead. I had to survive.

That night, I slept restlessly, constantly feeling like someone was watching me in the dark. Early in the morning, a series of knocks woke me from my sleep. Thump. Thump. Thump. “Chloe? Breakfast is ready.” Mom’s voice came through the door, “Mom made your favorite omelet.” I stared at the doorknob, hesitating whether to open the door. Last night’s experience felt like a nightmare, but the crumpled diary page in my pocket proved it wasn’t an illusion. “Coming!” I tried to make my voice sound normal, while quickly stuffing the diary page under my bedsheet. The moment I pushed the door open, a sweet aroma wafted towards me. Mom stood in the hallway, wearing a sunflower-print apron, smiling at me. Sunlight slanted in from the window behind her, casting a golden glow around her, making it look like an ordinary morning. If only I hadn’t noticed the unnatural angle of her left pinky finger – that finger had been perfectly fine yesterday. “Hurry and get ready.” She reached out to touch my head, but I instinctively tilted my head away. Her smile froze for a second, then quickly returned, “What’s wrong? Not feeling well?” “No, I’m fine, just… didn’t sleep well.” I lowered my head and squeezed past her, deliberately avoiding physical contact. In the kitchen, two omelets steamed on gold-rimmed white porcelain plates. I stared at them, suddenly remembering the second rule from the diary. While Mom turned to pour milk, I quickly pulled open the bottom shelf of the refrigerator— Red cling film, like a block of solidified blood under the cold light. Something on the surface of the irregularly wrapped meat glinted faintly. I leaned in closer and almost screamed: it was a half-missing fingernail embedded in the meat.

“What are you looking for?” Mom’s voice suddenly exploded in my ear. I slammed the refrigerator door shut and bumped into her shoulder as I turned around. “I… I wanted to get some ketchup…” My voice was trembling. Mom tilted her head, watching me, her pupils an unnatural gray in the sunlight. She slowly held up the glass of milk in her hand: “Drink your milk first. Fresh milk today.” The second rule from the diary flashed in my mind: If you find meat wrapped in red cling film, tell Mom, “Today’s milk is spoiled.” “Today’s milk… is spoiled.” I struggled to force out the words. Mom’s lips twitched. For a moment, her entire face distorted like a TV screen with bad reception, then it snapped back to normal. “How can that be?” She placed the milk glass in front of me, some milky white residue floating on the surface of the liquid, “Dad just bought it.” I stared at the glass, my stomach churning with nausea. Across the dining table, Lily’s seat was empty, but the tableware was neatly set, as if waiting for her to sit down at any moment. “I need to use the restroom!” I pushed my chair back and dashed towards the hallway. Behind me, Dad called out: “Eat it while it’s hot, Chloe.” As soon as the bathroom door locked, I stuck my fingers down my throat to try and gag. Even though I hadn’t eaten anything, the violent retching made me feel a little better. When I looked up, I noticed finger marks on the mirror. Leaning closer, I saw three shaky words: “Look at the photo.”

The family photo in the living room. The third rule from the diary. I wiped the saliva from my mouth and tiptoed through the hallway. The living room was eerily quiet, sunlight filtering through the sheer curtains, casting dappled shadows on the floor. The huge family photo hung above the TV: four people – Dad, Mom, me, and Lily – all smiling brightly in the picture. I counted: 1, 2, 3, 4. The number was correct. Just as I let out a sigh of relief, I caught a glimpse of something moving at the edge of the photo. Focusing my eyes, I saw that “my” face in the picture was slowly blurring. It wasn’t fading, but rather like an invisible eraser was wiping it away, bit by bit. Even more terrifying, Lily, who had been smiling on the far edge, was slowly shifting towards the center, filling the blank space left by “my” disappearance. In the blink of an eye, there were only three people left in the photo. My knees went weak, and I had to lean against the wall for support. Just then, the sound of porcelain shattering came from the kitchen. I quickly ran out, “What happened?” “Nothing, your mom just accidentally dropped a plate. No worries, sometimes a little breakage can clear the way for good things, right?” Dad said, setting muffins on the table, his face perfectly serene. It was too bizarre. Before, if I just used a little too much dish soap when washing dishes, Dad would yell at me, saying I was trying to poison the family and kill everyone. Now, he wasn’t even angry about a broken plate. As the muffins were placed on the table, I noticed Dad’s hands – long, clean, without a single wrinkle or blemish. This wasn’t right. Dad should be fifty-two this year, but these hands looked no older than thirty. “Is it not good?” Dad asked. “It’s nothing.” I lowered my head, cutting a muffin, “It’s just… you’ve both been so nice to me lately.” Mom and Dad exchanged a look. I’d seen that look too many times – like a silent conversation, a code I didn’t understand. “We’ve always loved you, Chloe.” Mom said, her hand covering mine, “We’ve just… learned to express it better lately.” Dad echoed her, “That’s right, Chloe, Mom and Dad are the best in the world to you.” Bang, bang, bang, a violent knocking at the front door interrupted our conversation.

��I’ll get it,” I started to stand up, but Mom’s hand suddenly clamped onto my wrist, her grip so strong it hurt. Her expression turned unusually serious, her lips barely moving: “He’s here.” “Who?” “Him.” Dad repeated, his eyes wide with apparent fear, “The one you created.” An icy chill crept up from my feet. The one I created? The floodgates of memory swung open. The novel I wrote a month ago, the serial killer character I named Caleb. The person outside seemed to have tired of knocking and stopped. Just as I let out a breath of relief, the sound of a hammer smashing the door exploded through the quiet house. I jumped, nearly knocking over my orange juice. Mom and Dad’s expressions froze. Mom’s hand was still gripping my wrist, but its warmth was rapidly draining away. “Don’t open the door.” Dad said, his voice suddenly mechanical, “Remember, this isn’t real.” The doorbell rang again, three sharp, urgent rings, like a warning. I tore myself free from Mom’s hand and walked towards the foyer. Through the peephole, a tall figure stood on the porch, a black trench coat, holding something – a toolbox? I squinted, adjusting the angle to try and see his face. In that second, he looked up. Bloodshot eyes stared directly into the peephole, as if he could see me through that tiny hole. A crescent-shaped scar above his right eyebrow – exactly as I’d described it in my novel. My breath hitched, blood roaring in my ears. “I know you’re in there, little writer.” His voice was low and pleasant, “Are your parents doing well? I’d very much like to meet you.” I stumbled backward, bumping into something hard. Turning, I saw Dad – no, not Dad. This person’s features looked like they were made of wax, slowly melting in high heat, only two black holes where his eyes should be. “Wake up.” The wax-like Dad said, his voice coming from a distant place, “You are sleeping. The real us… we’re not like this.” Behind me, I heard the lock turning on the front door. I looked back and saw the doorknob slowly pressing down on its own. “Run!” Mom’s voice suddenly shrieked from the kitchen, sharp and inhuman, “Upstairs! Lock the door!” My legs finally found their sensation, and I dashed for the stairs. In the mirror in the upstairs hallway, I saw the front door open, and the corner of a black trench coat flash. Then, the mirror suddenly cracked, and at the center of the spiderweb-like fractures, a line of blood-red text appeared: “Final rule: Escape the novel world.”

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Once again, I was beaten bloody by my unpredictable wife, Gwen. As I lay there, on the verge of being beaten to death, my adopted daughter didn’t shield me as she usually did. Instead, she sat nearby, casually counting money with a smirk on her face. It was the money I had saved for a house, penny by penny, from sweeping streets and collecting garbage. “Mom, don’t kill him yet,” she said. “While it’s still dark, let’s dump him on the road. If this cripple gets run over by a car, we might be able to scam some money.” The mother and daughter dragged me by my crippled right leg and threw me onto the road. As I lay dying, I desperately tried to crawl away. But my father, George, and my brother, William, came and dragged me back to the middle of the road. Through my blurry vision, I saw my adopted daughter hugging my father and brother, unable to contain her laughter. “Dad, once the cripple is dead, we can finally acknowledge our true relationship!” I widened my eyes in disbelief. Could it be that the abandoned child I had raised with such difficulty was actually the illegitimate daughter of one of them? Before I could understand the truth, a speeding truck ran me over. When I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the day I found my adopted daughter.

“Waa! Waa!” The familiar cry of an infant felt like a blunt knife scraping against my nerves. I coldly looked towards the bundle in the corner. In my previous life, I had picked up this ungrateful child because I felt sorry for her. To buy her formula, I walked 10 miles to the city. Because she wanted pizza, I worked through a three-day fever with my body shaking from chills. When she had diarrhea, I carried her through flood waters to the hospital. I slipped and broke my right leg, leaving me with a lifelong limp, but I had no regrets. I raised her with countless drops of blood and sweat. In the end, she pushed me into hell with her own hands. I stared at the bundle in the corner of the alley, my nails digging deep into my palms, almost drawing blood. Resisting the urge to strangle the little ingrate, I quickly ran back home with my backpack. I took a bite of the hard bread. Even though it scratched my throat, it tasted sweeter than honey. In this life, I hadn’t yet been hit by Gwen with a beer bottle, losing three teeth. I wouldn’t speak with a lisp or spill food while eating porridge. My elbow hadn’t been shattered, causing my hand to shake uncontrollably when holding things. My right leg was fine too. I wouldn’t have to crawl like a dog, dragging a crippled leg to pick up fallen bread from the ground. “Creak!” The door to the west room opened, and William came out rubbing his eyes. Seeing me eating, his eyes immediately widened. His voice rose, “Brother! How come you’ve come back empty-handed!” I slowly and deliberately spread a generous amount of lard on the bread. Life in the countryside was hard. I never dared to eat such good things as lard, saving it all for William and our father, George. All because of our grandfather’s instructions. He said that my father and brother had always been weak, and as the eldest grandson, I should take care of them more. So I worked like a tireless ox. In the countryside, I rushed to do all the dirty and tiring work for George and William. Under the scorching sun, I went to dry grain and weed for William. At night, I forced my aching back to carry manure for George. My hands were always covered in blisters. I was grateful if I could sleep four or five hours a day. I was always afraid they might catch a cold or get sick from the wind and rain. But in return, I was schemed against for a lifetime. I tilted my head back and took a big bite of the lard-covered bread. The rich oily fragrance slid down my dry throat. “I just went out to weed, of course I came back empty-handed,” I said, glancing at him inconspicuously and sneering. “What, did you expect me to bring back something dirty and unsavory? I can’t do that kind of profiteering!” William frowned angrily, rushed out, pulling back the curtain. There was a “clang” from the yard. William had kicked over the vegetable washing basin, shouting for dad.

George and William whispered for a while. Then they hurriedly left the house. Not long after, they started shouting dramatically in the yard. “Oh my! Whose child is this?” My father held the bundle with a pitying look. “Oh, poor baby! How could you be abandoned here?” He heard my footsteps and immediately turned to look at me. His eyes were so “kind” and “righteous” that he looked like a saint incarnate. “Lucas, come quick and see how pitiful this child is. We can’t just stand by and do nothing!” George rushed over in three quick steps and tried to shove the bundle into my arms, muttering, “Hurry and take the child to the village clinic.” “I don’t know how long this child has been abandoned. I see hoof prints on its body. Quick, go check if there’s anything wrong.” I glanced down. The bastard child born of an affair. Its face was purple-red, its cries weak, as if it might die at any moment. I desperately suppressed the cold laughter in my heart. In my previous life, George had persuaded me with this “saintly” face. He earnestly persuaded me to give up my chance to return to the city. To be stuck in this backwater village for a lifetime. For this bastard child, born of either him or William with some loose woman. My whole life was ruined! I suddenly stepped back, avoiding his hand, and spoke calmly. “Dad, my bones ache all over. I don’t want to go out.” George’s face immediately changed. “Lucas! How can you be so heartless?” he said, gritting his teeth and suppressing his anger, as if I were some unfilial son. “This child will die if no one takes care of it! Can you bear that?” “How have I taught you all this time? You must have a conscience in everything you do.” “Good deeds will be rewarded, and turning a blind eye to someone in need will have consequences!” William quickly joined in, pretending to persuade me. “Brother, don’t you always say you’re tired? Just bear with it for a bit. Saving a life is better than building a seven-story pagoda…” Ha! So he knew I was exhausted every day from working for him? I looked at George and William’s hypocritical, self-righteous faces and suddenly laughed. “Brother, you’re so kind. Why don’t you take the child to the clinic yourself?” “The money is in the drawer. You can’t just stand by and do nothing.” “I’m aching all over from working for you. If I faint while carrying the child and accidentally drop it, now that would really be a sin!” The cries of the little bastard in the bundle were growing weaker. My father and brother glared at me. They looked like they wanted to devour me alive. My father’s face turned iron-gray, his fingers tightly pinching the bundle. As if he wanted to strangle the child inside. William panicked too, like a chicken with its throat squeezed. “Brother! What are you saying! Dad’s old, and I’ve always been weak. How could we handle the back and forth?” I clenched my fists and leaned against the doorframe, sneering. “We’re all born of the same parents. So I’m the only one with thick skin and a cheap life, is that it?” “All the dirty and tiring work has always fallen to me.” “You two get to be kind-hearted living Buddhas, while I’m destined to be a beast of burden?” George trembled with anger. All traces of kindness and civility had vanished. He looked like he wanted to tear me apart. “Lucas Young! You ungrateful wretch!” “Do you think you can start complaining now that you might get to return to the city?” “If you don’t take care of this child today, I’ll go around the village shouting, let everyone know you turned a blind eye to someone in need!” I stared at him and spoke slowly and deliberately. “Do whatever you want.” This life, no one will use “conscience” to pressure me again!

In my previous life, I listened to their devilish words. I took that little bastard to the clinic. Right after, I was pointed at and gossiped about. They spread rumors that I, a young man, was suddenly carrying a child for no reason. It was almost certain that the child was mine, born of an affair with some woman. George and William spread rumors about me everywhere. It was just when they were selecting young people to return to the city. A young person’s moral conduct was an especially important selection criterion. Because of these baseless rumors, my chance to return to the city was revoked. This time, I absolutely won’t have anything to do with that little bastard! Unexpectedly, though I didn’t look for trouble, trouble found me. Just as I was packing to return to the city, the yard gate was suddenly kicked open from outside. Gwen stood at the door holding the blood-covered little bastard, cursing loudly. “Lucas Young! You shameless scoundrel!” “You sweet-talked me into bed and got me pregnant!” “Now you want to go back to the city, so you abandoned your son, not caring if he lives or dies. How can you be so vicious!” My blood instantly froze. In my previous life, it was this crazy woman who made me live worse than death for twenty years! I walked out of the house. Half the village had already gathered at the door. Gwen, who had beaten me for half my life, stood guarding the door, cursing loudly. Back then, because I adopted that bastard, my reputation was ruined and I couldn’t return to the city. George decided to have me marry Gwen, a widow in the village who was over ten years older than me. I didn’t want to. George acted like the family patriarch. He said with my reputation as a scoundrel, I couldn’t marry a girl from a decent family anymore. Marrying Gwen would at least give the child a mother, so he wouldn’t be bullied as a single parent child. He tol a singled me not to only think of myself, but to the child’s welfare. Later he simply sent the bride price to Gwen on his own. He forced me to marry Gwen. Although Gwen was older, she treated the child I had adopted very well, like a real mother! As time passed, I resigned myself to my fate. I planned to settle down, raise the child, and live my life with Gwen. Just because I helped a young widow whose husband had died young carry two bags of grain while she was pregnant with her late husband’s child, I was beaten. Gwen dragged me to the yard, grabbed my hair and smashed my head against the millstone. In front of the neighbors, she cursed and spat at me. “Lucas Young, you’re really shameless! I didn’t look down on you for being a scoundrel when I married into your family!” “You ungrateful bastard! You dare to steal women from me! Is that little slut pregnant with your child?” Faced with Gwen’s hysterical behavior… I desperately tried to explain that I just saw someone in need and wanted to help, as we’re all neighbors. But she didn’t believe me at all. She insisted I couldn’t change my scoundrel ways, that I was seducing young wives! She even picked up a stick and beat my right leg, crippling me for life. Not a single relative or neighbor was willing to help. They despised me even more for being no good. I had been unfaithful before marriage, having an illegitimate child with some loose woman. After marriage, I still wasn’t an upright person. They all felt that a dirty scoundrel like me who fooled around deserved to be beaten. At the time, George and William were watching from the side. Neither of them came to pull Gwen away. At the time, I thought they were just scared by the crazed Gwen. I was even afraid my blood would splatter on them. Now that I think about it, it’s really laughable. Every time George and William came to see me, Gwen would find an excuse to beat me viciously. Whenever I really couldn’t take it anymore and wanted to divorce Gwen, George and William would always persuade me: “For the sake of how good she is to the child, just endure it. It’ll get better with time. The child can’t be without a mother!” I believed these words, swallowed my tears and pain, gritted my teeth, and continued living with Gwen. As my adopted daughter grew up, she looked more and more like Gwen, but I didn’t think much of it. I just thought that after being raised for so long, it was natural for a child to resemble their adoptive parents. I thought it was because the child was close to her parents.

Gwen’s ability to turn black into white… Made me suffer for a lifetime. I didn’t expect that in this life, she would directly throw mud at me. The villagers watching couldn’t help but point at me and criticize. Their spit nearly drowned me. “Even a tiger doesn’t eat its cubs. This man’s heart is really vicious!” “The child was crying and almost dying at the clinic, yet he still has the nerve to pack his bags!” “Ptui! Scoundrel! You deserve to be condemned!” “I just heard at the clinic that this child’s ears were trampled deaf by either sheep or donkey hooves. Who knows if his brain was damaged too!” “To have such a father, what terrible luck!” The accusations from all sides made my head buzz. Memories of a lifetime of being unable to hold my head high, always inferior to others, flooded back. I tasted blood in my throat. The words “scoundrel” and “scum” kept drilling into my brain. George rushed over and slapped me hard across the face. He still smelled of the clean soap I had risked my life to buy for him, working in the mountains breaking rocks and pulling carts like a donkey. He pointed at my face and cursed righteously. “How could I have given birth to such a shameless son!” Blood dripped from my split lip onto the snow. My face stung and burned. George leaned back, as if he had suffered a great injustice. “It’s all my fault as a father for not teaching you well. How could you do such a despicable thing!” “Our Young family has been upright for generations. Now we can’t even face our ancestors underground!” The uncles and aunts tried to persuade him. “You can’t control grown children! How can you watch over him all the time!” “When a boy grows up, if he wants to fool around, how can you as a father stop him? You can’t tie him to your waist.” William quickly chimed in, adding fuel to the fire. “Brother, even if you really want to return to the city, you can’t mistreat the child like this!” “I’ve always told you to be upright and responsible, but you just wouldn’t listen…” The corner of a brand new dress shirt peeked out from under his coat. It was the shirt I had exchanged thirty work points for, just so I could return to the city looking presentable. He had stolen it and was wearing it himself. But never mind, I stole something of his too! William deliberately lifted the blanket, exposing the child’s festering ears. The crowd instantly exploded. Several strong men looked like they wanted to beat me with sticks. Someone spat in my face. I immediately dropped to the ground and started rolling around. Like a mad dog, I bit anyone who tried to pull me away. “Gwen! You say I had an affair with you! What proof do you have?” Gwen snorted coldly and pulled out a pair of men’s underwear from her labor reform cloth bag. “You scoundrel! Do you dare say these aren’t yours!” “And you have a birthmark on your left buttock!” The crowd’s curses became even more vicious. The village chief was so angry he stamped his feet. “You’ve completely ruined our village’s reputation! You still want to return to the city? Keep dreaming!” “We’d rather give the spot to William than to scum like you!” The smiles on William and George’s faces were barely concealed. I got up from the ground, wiped the blood from my face. I tore open the pocket of my clothes and took something out, holding it up. “What a coincidence, I have some evidence too.”

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My sister Emily is dead. Someone threw her into a den of beggars, where she was abused to death by more than a dozen vagrants. The person responsible for this is Olivia Johnson, the wife of Alexander Thompson. All because my sister accidentally overheard one of her secrets. Before marrying Alexander, Olivia had an illegitimate child with another man. My sister begged Olivia on her knees, pleading that she had no parents and only a younger sister still in school who needed care. She even offered to have her tongue cut out if it meant sparing her life. But Olivia still had her dragged away. I clutched the friendship bracelet in my palm tightly. Sisters united, we were. Our family was poor, and our parents passed away early. Emily became a hostess at a high-end nightclub, using the money she earned to support my education and raise me. She always held me close and said, “Don’t be afraid, Lily. Your big sister will always protect you.” Now my world has crumbled. I’ve lost my sister. And I’ve come to hate Olivia Johnson. I’m planning my revenge. Olivia made me lose the person I loved most, so I’ll make her lose the person she loves most. Of course, the person Olivia loves most is her husband, Alexander Thompson! If she loses him, she’ll probably go insane. The thought alone excites me. I picked up a photo of Alexander Thompson. In Oceanville, Thompson Corp has always been the dominant force. In the picture, Alexander looks young and handsome. His status, power, and position make him particularly charming and alluring. The key is, he’s also a good husband. Married for three years, he an he and Olivia have been deeply in love, with no other women on the side. I laughed out loud. Is that really true? I gently traced Alexander’s handsome face in the photo. Olivia, what do you think? If I try to seduce your husband, will he take the bait?

I entered the Thompson mansion, becoming one of their maids. In the evening, I went to Alexander and Olivia’s master bedroom to make their bed. Just then, two bright headlights shone through the sparkling floor-to-ceiling windows. I knew Alexander was back. I reached out to turn off the wall lamp in the room. As darkness fell, I heard a “click” – the door was pushed open. Alexander had returned. He walked over and suddenly embraced me from behind. The man had been drinking. His slightly tipsy voice was low, mellow, and magnetic as he softly called out right next to my ear, “Honey~” I wanted to laugh. What a good husband indeed! But then, what about my sister’s life? I squirmed a little, my delicate body wriggling in his arms like a small water snake. Alexander’s large hand fell on my waist and pinched it, saying with a hint of confusion, “Why is your waist so slim today? So thin and soft.” I heard his breathing quicken. Soon, his hand slipped under the hem of my clothes, kneading gently as he said in a husky voice, “So big~” I smirked inwardly. Do you like it, Alexander? Years ago, when my sister and I went to Heavenly Paradise, Madame Rose had her eye on me immediately. With my delicate figure, slim waist, and ample bosom, she said I was blessed by the heavens, born to please men. If I was willing, the position of the top hostess at Heavenly Paradise would be mine. It was my sister who protected me. She corrected Madame Rose, saying that her little Lily was meant for studying, destined to live an upright life. I knew I was alluring. In college, those rich kids and campus heartthrobs would follow me with just a crook of my finger. Sister, I don’t want to live an upright life anymore. I just want to drag them all to hell with me! Alexander’s body was pressed tightly against mine. I could feel his scorching body heat and the iron-hard thing in his pants. I immediately began my performance. I struggled to turn around, my hands pressing against his chest as I called out timidly, “Sir, please don’t!” Hearing my voice, Alexander froze. “Who are you?” I reached out and turned on the wall lamp with a “click.” My watery eyes, like those of a startled fawn, looked up at him. “Sir, you’ve mistaken me for someone else. I’m not your wife. I’m Lily, the maid here!” Alexander stared at my face, frozen in place. Just then, “click, click, click,” the sound of Olivia’s high heels suddenly echoed from outside.

Olivia was coming! I was truly excited, but my doe-like eyes were filled with panic. My small hands pushed against Alexander’s arms. “The madam is coming, sir. Please remove your hand…” Only then did Alexander realize his hand was still inside my clothes, cupping my soft, ample flesh. He quickly withdrew his hand. “I’m sorry, I thought you were my wife.” As he said this, he turned to leave. But I grabbed his arm, continuing to feign panic. “The madam doesn’t allow us maids to get close to you, sir. If she sees us alone together, she’ll surely be angry. What should we do now?” Soon, with a “click,” the door opened and Olivia walked in. Olivia was a beautiful woman with red lips and curly hair. She looked up and saw Alexander sitting at the desk. She curved her red lips into a sweet smile and said, “Honey, you’re back?” Olivia only saw her husband sitting in the chair. She certainly couldn’t see where I was at that moment. Earlier, I had pulled Alexander over, made him sit down, and then I crawled under the desk. The space under the desk was too narrow. Alexander’s long legs, wrapped in black trousers, were spread apart, and I was crouching between them. Alexander lowered his handsome gaze to look at me. I tilted up my exquisitely beautiful face, looking back at him with incredibly innocent, pure eyes. I shook my head pitifully at him, begging him not to expose me. I knew this look of mine was the most alluring – a mix of purity and seduction that was irresistible to men. Sure enough, Alexander played along. He nodded at Olivia, “Honey, I just got back.” Olivia didn’t come closer. Instead, she opened a package containing a sexy lingerie set. She held it against herself, looking at Alexander provocatively. “Honey, do you like it?” Alexander raised his head to look at Olivia. I knew Olivia was quite experienced. Before marrying Alexander, she had dated several well-endowed, skilled lovers and even got pregnant, giving birth to a son. Later, when the Thompson and Johnson families arranged their marriage, those boyfriends and her illegitimate child were all “taken care of.” How much blood was shed for this marriage of hers? I curved my red lips. Olivia might be experienced, but wasn’t I too? Alexander’s crotch was right in front of me, its outline clear and massive. To be fair, Alexander was even younger and more handsome than in his photos. He was well-endowed, making Olivia’s ex-boyfriends pale in comparison. No wonder she, a former wild girl, was now so devoted to him. I immediately pretended to accidentally bring my small face close to him. My innocent, soft face, looking almost childlike, barely touched the man’s swollen black trousers. Through the thin fabric, I exhaled softly. This kind of teasing – what man could resist it? Alexander tensed up. I saw that part of him grow even larger. Soon, I heard him say to Olivia, “I like it.” The words “I like it” were said extremely perfunctorily. After saying this, his gaze fell on my face. I knew I had succeeded. I had drawn his attention away from Olivia. I played innocent, my doe eyes darting around in fear, my small face quickly retreating. But as I pulled back, my red lips “accidentally” brushed against him. Alexander shuddered. I was overjoyed inside. Alexander, how does it feel to be unfaithful with me? Olivia, oblivious, said happily, “Honey, then I’ll go take a shower and put it on for you to see.” Alexander’s voice was very hoarse. “Okay.” Olivia walked towards the bathroom. I felt a bit urgent. How could we let Olivia leave like this? She should come and see what her good husband was hiding between his legs, see how her good husband was trembling with excitement for another woman. That would be truly thrilling. I deliberately knocked my hand against the table, making a “thud” sound. Olivia’s footsteps immediately stopped at the bathroom door, her sharp eyes darting towards where I was.

Olivia quickly turned back. “Honey, what was that sound?” Hidden under the desk, I saw Olivia’s diamond-studded stilettos approaching step by step. My eyes gleamed with excitement. Thump. Alexander deliberately knocked some files off the table, then bent down to pick them up. “It’s nothing, just some files falling.” Olivia walked over. She was wearing a red dress and leaned against Alexander. She noticed the swollen area on Alexander and reached out with her small hand, painted with bright red nail polish, to stroke it from top to bottom. “Honey, why are you so excited already?” I wanted to hear what Alexander would say. Alexander looked at Olivia. “Baby, it’s all because that nightgown was too sexy. I’m already captivated by you.” Hah. I laughed inwardly. Men’s mouths, full of lies. But I was laughing on the inside. The one who actually laughed out loud was Olivia. She laughed with joy and rewarded Alexander with a kiss on his thin lips. “Wait for me, honey~” Olivia entered the bathroom. I didn’t stop Olivia. The noise I made earlier was just to tease her. This was only the beginning; I’d let her see even more exciting things later. Alexander immediately stood up, distancing himself from me. I stood up as well. Alexander turned his back to me, his handsome figure taut with annoyance. “Get out! Don’t ever come into this…” Before he could finish saying “room,” I had already turned and run away. Alexander watched my figure, running like a little rabbit, and smiled a bit helplessly. … That night, Alexander, fresh from the shower and wearing a black silk robe, leaned against the headboard. Olivia, wearing that sexy lingerie, straddled his muscular waist. The atmosphere was intimate. Olivia wiggled a bit, her eyes seductive. “Honey, do I look good?” Alexander’s desire had reached its peak. His clean, long hands gripped Olivia’s waist. Soon, he let out a meaningful chuckle. “Honey, have you gained weight recently?” Olivia pouted her red lips. “No, I haven’t.” Alexander’s hand slipped under her clothes. Olivia was also well-endowed, but Alexander had touched better today. He narrowed his eyes and applied some force. Olivia felt like he was on drugs tonight. She melted like water on top of him, moaning softly, “Ah, it hurts. Be gentle, honey~” Alexander’s eyes, full of desire, stared at her. “Would being gentle satisfy you?” Olivia kissed his thin lips. Alexander’s hand fell on her shoulder, pushing her down, indicating he wanted her to pleasure him. Olivia gave him a coquettish look, then buried her head… The room was full of spring passion. What they didn’t know was that at this moment, a pair of eyes was peeking through the door crack. This person was me. I stood outside, watching this live erotic show, watching Alexander touch Olivia with the hands that had just touched me. Alexander, are you comparing my body to Olivia’s in your mind? Do you prefer me? Now, are you imagining Olivia as me? I clutched the friendship bracelet tightly in my hand. You two are so loving and intimate, but did you hear my sister’s heart-wrenching cries that night? I went to see my sister for the last time. Her body was tortured beyond recognition, covered in cigarette burn scars, her body broken. Madame Rose told me to accept my fate, saying that in your eyes, our lives were as worthless as grass. I refuse to accept this fate! If heaven is unjust, then I will become the devil rising from hell. Evil will be met with evil! Alexander, Olivia, let the game begin! … The next morning. I was working in the living room when Olivia stormed in with a group of people. “Catch Lily!” Two maids grabbed me, one on each side. I was startled and looked at Olivia fearfully. “Madam, what have I done wrong?” Olivia looked down at me coldly and sneered, “Lily, I’ve seen many women try to seduce my husband. Did you think you could get away with it right under my nose?” My heart skipped a beat. Had I been exposed before the game even began?

I quickly explained in panic, “Madam, I didn’t, I didn’t try to seduce the sir!” Olivia snorted coldly and pulled out a long hair. “This hair was found on my husband’s trousers. Don’t try to deny it.” I became more flustered. “Madam, that hair isn’t mine. You’ve misunderstood.” Olivia glared at my face viciously, then came to my waist and pinched the soft flesh hard. “You little slut, you think you’re a match for me?” My face turned pale with pain. Just then, from the corner of my eye, I saw Alexander approaching. My eyelashes trembled, and large tears began to fall. I pleaded pitifully, “Madam, it really wasn’t me. Please, forgive me.” Olivia pinched my waist hard twice more. “You like seducing men, don’t you? Come on, strip her clothes off and throw her out on the street!” The maids started pulling at my clothes. I cried helplessly, “No, please don’t.” At that moment, Alexander strode over. “Stop!” The maids immediately stopped. My legs gave way, and I collapsed onto the carpet. My small face was covered in tears. I hugged my exposed shoulders and looked up at Alexander with a tear-stained face. Without looking in a mirror, I knew how pitiful and alluring I looked to men in this state. Alexander looked at Olivia and spoke up for me. “She didn’t try to seduce me.” Olivia held up the long hair. “Honey, this was found on your trousers. How can you still defend this little slut?” Alexander took the hair and held it up to the sunlight. The hair had a reddish tint, while my hair was black. Alexander angrily said, “Look for yourself. This hair isn’t Lily’s!” Olivia was dumbfounded. Just then, a maid in her fifties ran out in panic. “Madam, that hair is mine. It must have fallen on the sir’s clothes when I was tidying them. At my age, I would never try to seduce the sir!” It turned out to be a misunderstanding. Olivia stood there, frozen. Alexander looked at Olivia. “Olivia, apologize to Lily!” Olivia’s face turned ugly. She stamped her foot in anger. “Honey, how can you ask me to apologize to a lowly maid?” I couldn’t help but curve my lips. Actually, I had planted that hair there! Olivia, are you surprised? Shocked? I knew exactly how to provoke Olivia. I decided to teach her another lesson. I reached out my small hand, like a pitiful little cat, and timidly grabbed Alexander’s trousers. Playing the role of a master manipulator, I sobbed, “Sir, please don’t argue with the madam because of me. It’s all my fault.” Women have an innate ability to detect manipulation, and recognizing my act, Olivia exploded in anger. “Lily, shut up!” Alexander’s tone became cold and hard. “Olivia, don’t make me say it a third time. Apologize!” Olivia was fuming but had to swallow her pride. She lowered her noble head. “Lily, I’m sorry.” I shook my head pitifully. “No, madam. You’re not wrong. It’s all my fault.” Olivia: “…” Her gaze could kill now. … I returned to my room and sat on the bed. Then, with a “click,” the door opened and someone came in. I knew he would follow me in. It was Alexander! I looked at him with my watery doe eyes and shrank back a little. “Sir, please don’t come near me. If the madam finds out, she’ll beat me again~” Alexander reassured me, “She won’t beat you anymore.” I looked doubtful. “Really?” Alexander: “I promise.” I immediately gave him a sweet smile. “You’re so kind, sir~” Alexander put a tube of ointment on the bedside table. “Apply some of this yourself.” He turned to leave. I called out to stop him. “Sir.” Alexander turned to look at me. I said, “Sir, I can’t reach. Could you help me apply the ointment?” In front of him, I reached down and lifted the hem of my clothes, revealing my soft, pale waist.

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The first time I noticed something was off was when I smelled an unfamiliar body wash scent on her. We always use the same brand and fragrance at home. So that day when she came home and leaned in to kiss me, I immediately sensed something wasn’t right. “Did you shower somewhere else today?” I asked casually. “A bird pooped on my head. I didn’t want to stink up the house, so I showered at school before coming home,” she replied smoothly. I smiled and let my gaze drift quickly over her face. She was too calm. So I joked, “Good thing it didn’t happen back in our hometown. There, you’d have to collect rice from a hundred families to make a ‘hundred family meal’ to ward off the bad luck.” That evening, before my shower, I pulled out the clothes she had tossed in the washing machine. I sniffed them carefully but couldn’t detect any scent other than body wash. How could a woman go from morning to night, interacting with so many people, without picking up any traces of perfume, sweat or food smells? I examined her clothes meticulously. The average adult woman sheds about 50 hairs a day, mostly on the back. But this shirt didn’t have a single hair on it! It was as clean as if she had just put it on before coming home. That night, Olivia was especially affectionate, clinging to me and initiating intimacy. I felt nauseous the whole time. I have mild germaphobia, and even though there was still uncertainty, the whole process felt like swallowing a dead fly. “Honey, you don’t seem very into it tonight,” Olivia curled up in my arms afterwards. “Did you hear something upsetting during a therapy session again?”

I’m a hypnotherapist. Many people think we’re like clear mountain springs – tranquil and pure. In reality, we deal with people’s psychological issues every day. As they say, ‘When you gaze into the abyss, the abyss gazes back.’ The monsters in our clients’ minds often project onto us, creating new monsters within ourselves. Most of the time we can self-regulate. When we can’t, we turn to colleagues for help. “It was a case of chronic infidelity,” I made up a story. “The wife is notoriously promiscuous. She used to cheat discreetly, but after her husband found out, she started brazenly bringing men home.” “The husband, my client, loves his wife deeply and doesn’t want a divorce. He’s suffering terribly.” I rolled over with a frown. “Why are you women so unfaithful?” “That’s totally unfair! You can’t lump all women together like that,” Olivia pinched my waist playfully. “Not all women are unfaithful. It depends on their moral standards.” “Some women have no moral bottom line and sleep around. Others, like your wife, have very high standards. I’m your first and I’ll be your last, for life.” I couldn’t detect anything amiss from her micro-expressions. But that was normal. It would be abnormal if I could. As an associate professor of mathematics, she’s far more intelligent than me.

Olivia and I met in college. We both did our bachelor’s and master’s degrees consecutively – me in psychology, her in math. Everyone said we were a power couple when we started dating, a collision of two rational minds. We got married right after finishing our master’s degrees, to no one’s surprise. She became a lecturer at the university, teaching undergrads while pursuing her PhD. With my advisor’s support and my parents’ financial help, I opened my own psychological counseling practice. I majored in applied psychology, with hypnotherapy as my specialty. Psychology got a late start in the US. In the early days, people were more skeptical than accepting of psychology, let alone hypnosis. They thought the whole field was a scam. My practice struggled at first, but slowly improved. After successfully handling a few big cases, I gained some renown in the industry.

Fame may seem intangible, but it brings very real benefits. The revenue of my practice skyrocketed. There’s a saying: “A man’s confidence and status come from money.” Because I was earning more, my position at home also rose. I felt more secure and was almost certain Olivia wouldn’t cheat. But reality slapped me hard in the face… The day after I first noticed something off, I picked her up from work and hugged her as usual. The seed of doubt had been planted in my mind about her clothes. Seeing her suspiciously clean outfit again, I slipped a lighter into her coat pocket without hesitation. Then I pretended nothing had happened and cheerfully took her out to dinner. During the meal, she went to the bathroom once for a full ten minutes. When she came back, she looked uneasy. “What’s wrong?” I asked. “Nothing, just some work stuff,” she replied. “Do you need to go back to campus?” “No, I’ll deal with it tomorrow.” We were both putting on an act – me playing the clueless husband, her selling the ‘stressed about work’ story. When we got home, she took off her coat and grabbed her phone to shower. I felt in her coat pocket – the lighter was gone. Classic guilty behavior. I tiptoed to the bathroom door. First I heard the ‘ding’ of an incoming SnapChat message, then her lowered voice, sounding annoyed: “Who else would it be? No need to explain! … I’m at home, we’ll talk tomorrow!” My heart sank. Before we got married, we had both expressed the same view: “Zero tolerance for cheating, no compromises.” I backed away, poured myself a drink, and sat on the couch pondering my next move… We don’t have kids, so divorce would only involve dividing assets. Apart from our fixed assets – house, car, collectibles and savings – Olivia manages all our joint finances. She handles the stocks, funds and insurance policies. All the linked bank cards are with her. I hardly ever ask about it… “Honey, what made you decide to have a drink tonight?” Olivia came out of the bathroom, toweling her hair. “Just to set the mood,” I raised my glass in her direction, with a hint of invitation. “I saw you go straight to shower when you got home, so I thought you… Or am I wrong?” “You’re right,” she straddled my lap and kissed me, arms around my neck. Two people with zero interest, both pretending to be in the mood. I still felt sick to my stomach, like I’d swallowed a dead fly, but I kept reminding myself: “Don’t let her realize I know.” I’ve seen many divorces. No matter how passionate the couple once was, few remain civil when it comes to dividing assets. Most turn ugly. I didn’t want to see her ugly side, nor did I want her to see mine. So the best approach was to “elegantly calculate everything in advance.” I’m a selfish person. I don’t want years of hard work to benefit someone else.

The next day, I did two things. First, “I went to a law firm and hired a lawyer to advise me on next steps.” The lawyer first affirmed my actions from the night before – don’t confront her yet. Get everything prepared before showing your hand. You want to catch her off guard. He was slightly concerned about the lighter: “You were a bit rash there. Given your wife’s intelligence, she’ll quickly suspect you planted it.” I replied, “She has no proof. I bought that lighter recently when getting cigarettes. It’s not my usual brand.” The lawyer told me to be careful not to slip up, then recommended “three steps plus one additional suggestion.” “Step 1: Collect evidence of her infidelity.” “Step 2: Apply to the court for asset protection based on the evidence.” I don’t need to compile a detailed list of assets. Just provide leads on the assets and apply for court protection. The court can then take protective measures. “Step 3: File for divorce, request dissolution of the marriage. The judge will determine how to divide marital assets based on the evidence.” Additional suggestion: “If Olivia purchased any high-value items for her lover during the marriage, like a house or car, that’s considered misappropriation of marital assets. I can legally reclaim those.” “The second thing I did was hire a private investigator to gather evidence of Olivia’s affair.” This person is technically called a ‘private investigator’, though less politely they’re known as ‘paparazzi’. They often help dig up celebrity gossip too. My requirements were: “A. I want to know who the other man is and how long it’s been going on.” “B. Dating photos that prove their relationship, like kissing or entering a hotel.” “C. I want to know if Olivia has given him any expensive gifts, like a house or car.” The PI readily agreed, though his fee wasn’t cheap.

The PI’s efficiency puts soap opera plot lines to shame. Those TV wives who spend ages trying to catch cheating husbands should just hire a PI without hesitation. Just four days after I hired him, the PI had already identified the other man. Someone familiar. His name is Jake. A golden boy who made it out of his small town. During college, he interned at my practice as a senior. After graduating, he worked for me for another six months. I even wrote him a recommendation letter for his current job… Who would have thought? Talk about biting the hand that feeds you! I almost laughed out loud. Two weeks ago at an industry gathering, he clinked glasses with me and casually asked how I’d handle it if my wife cheated. I thought it was an odd question at the time. Turns out it was his subtle way of declaring war. I’m sure Olivia sensed his intentions too. That’s why when I put the lighter in her pocket, she never suspected me. “When did they start?” I asked the PI. “Not sure yet, but they’ve been living together for 2 years. Here’s their address…” I looked at the address on the notepad. It was an apartment complex not far from the university, also close to Jake’s workplace. Convenient for both of them. “Did they buy or rent?” “Bought. In Jake’s name.” I didn’t need to ask who paid for it. Jake only has a bachelor’s degree and has been working less than 5 years. He’s not well-known in the field yet, with a monthly salary of just over $1000. Back in his hometown, the whole village would be eager to help out their college graduate. Plus he has a good-for-nothing brother who always needs support… But that apartment complex, even at prices from 3 years ago, would cost at least $200,000 for 800 square feet! I sighed. Olivia is usually so frugal, she won’t even buy me a $1000 watch. But for her lover, she easily shells out over $200,000 for an apartment! “Don’t be too heartbroken, man!” the PI consoled me. “Women are like that, thinking with their lower half.” “That guy isn’t as good-looking as you, and his vibe is way off. Your wife just got bored and wanted some excitement.” I smiled wryly.

Olivia’s choice of Jake was partly about “boredom and excitement”, but more about psychological needs. They both grew up in small towns, fighting their way to the big city. There’s a sense of kindred spirits there. Olivia sees a bit of herself in Jake. Olivia and I come from very different backgrounds. As she puts it, she struggled for 20 years just to have the chance to drink coffee with me at Starbucks. Between us, even though she now has high social status, there’s still deep-rooted insecurity. Whenever we go somewhere fancy, she can’t help but feel nervous, always observing others first. But with Jake, given her absolute advantage in economic and social status, she must feel much more relaxed and empowered. Plus, in their hometown there’s a backwards notion that a woman’s success isn’t just about how much she earns or achieves, but how many men she can attract. We discussed this topic back in college. Olivia vehemently criticized that view. Unfortunately, ideas ingrained over many years become part of one’s core. They can’t be easily erased just by adopting the right values. As for Jake, I won’t speculate on whether he truly loves Olivia. In the adult world, relationships are often just about mutual benefit. When Jake interned with me years ago, he repeatedly expressed envy of my background, career and marriage. So from my perspective, by being with Olivia, he gains material support. Emotionally, he probably feels like he’s finally surpassed me in something. “Here are their photos, boss. This is all we’ve got so far,” the PI handed me several pictures. “Do you want to go to court now, or wait a few more days?” I looked at the photos of them coming and going together, feeling conflicted. Past vows of eternal love, no match for the passage of time. “Christmas is in a couple days,” the PI glanced at my expression cautiously. “Maybe you want to think it over some more?” “In my line of work, you see a lot of dirty business,” the PI said. “To be honest, women who never stray in their whole lives are pretty rare.” For a moment I wavered, but finally just said, “Keep a close eye on them for me.”

Christmas came quickly. Olivia showed up at my office with a huge bouquet of red roses, which was highly unusual for her. The young staff at the office teased us as usual, giving envious looks, posting in the work SnapChat group about being “fed dog food” (seeing a sickeningly sweet couple)… I left work early, browsed the mall a bit, bought a pair of shoes and a necklace for her. Then we went for a Western dinner. I actually cherished the whole process, knowing it might be our last holiday together. But unexpectedly, halfway through dinner, Olivia got a call saying she had to leave. She said her coworker had a fight with her boyfriend. They got into a physical altercation on the street and were now at the hospital. The police were taking statements. She had to go check on them. I know most of Olivia’s close coworkers who would call her for something like this. I picked up my coat and said “I’ll come with you”, but Olivia stopped me. She told me to enjoy my meal, saying the people involved didn’t want too many others to know. She promised to call me after playing peacemaker. I understood immediately, reminded of those palace dramas on TV! The favored concubines always like to flaunt their status in front of the empress, not knowing how they’ll end up dead. “Alright, you go ahead,” I sat back down. “I’ll finish dinner and then hang out at a bar for a bit.” Olivia smiled at me, leaned down to cup my face, and touched her forehead to mine affectionately. “Don’t flirt with any floozies,” she said in her usual doting tone. I made a sound of agreement. Keeping up the act, I teased back, “You never know! Better hurry back if you’re gonna be jealous.” Olivia pinched my nose and turned to leave. Watching her walk away, I called the PI: “Where are you? Olivia just left.” The PI said he was tailing Jake, then gave me an address. From our restaurant to Jake’s location, even with Christmas traffic, should take about 40 minutes by car. But an hour passed. The PI messaged that Olivia still hadn’t arrived. I almost thought Olivia had a fourth lover on the side. Or maybe a coworker really did end up in the hospital. But 20 minutes later, the PI said Olivia had arrived…

That night, I met some friends at a bar. Surrounded by the noisy crowd, all I could picture was those two in bed together. I got home at midnight. Olivia wasn’t back yet. I went into the study and reached for the computer. Before I even touched it, I knew why Olivia had taken twice as long to reach Jake after leaving the restaurant. She’d come home first. Someone had used my computer. Everyone has their own computer habits. My left and right eyes have different degrees of nearsightedness, plus my right eye has astigmatism. So I keep the computer slightly tilted on the desk. Olivia knows this house too well. So well that she forgot to pay attention to these details. The computer use history had been cleared. Apart from some cutting-edge academic materials, the most important thing on my computer was the paper I was currently writing. Something Jake could directly use. Once published in an academic journal, the paper would boost my industry ranking. I don’t want to assume the worst intentions from Olivia and Jake, but I have to prepare for the worst case scenario. Although I only started writing that paper recently, I had been preparing for three years, analyzing thousands of cases and investing huge amounts of time and energy. [Stealing my academic work is even more despicable than stealing my woman!]

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I died during the cooling-off period of my ninth divorce from Olivia Reed. My soul hovered above the VIP hospital room, watching her spend millions on her childhood sweetheart’s scribble of a painting. She looked at my body, riddled with tubes, her voice ice-cold: “Adam Carter, stop pretending. Ethan’s auction is waiting for me.” “Sign this debt transfer document, and we’re done.” I couldn’t answer, so she took it as resistance. She pulled out her final trump card: “If you don’t wake up right now, I’ll cut off all expenses for that burden!” “Do you want her to starve to death?!” Just then, my daughter’s pale soul appeared beside me. She looked up at me, her hollow eyes full of confusion: “Daddy, why did Mommy call Emily a ‘burden’?” “Daddy… I’m so hungry.” 0 Today was the last day of the cooling-off period for my ninth divorce from Olivia Reed, and it became my death anniversary. My soul floated above the hospital room, watching Olivia bring her childhood sweetheart, Ethan Brooks, to stand by my hospital bed. “Adam Carter, stop pretending. The auction is about to start,” she said, standing at a distance and slamming a document on the bedside table. Pretending? I wish I could pretend, but how could a brain-dead person pretend? Olivia continued, “Ethan has been preparing for this comeback exhibition for five years. I can’t let his hard work go to waste.” “Your company shares are the only assets that can be quickly liquidated.” “Sign this debt transfer document, transfer the shares to me, and we’re done.” Done? I looked at her cold profile, feeling absurd. Our marriage, our daughter, the countless nights we spent together – in her eyes, was it just a debt relationship that could be easily settled? Of course, I couldn’t answer her. My “silence” in her eyes was a silent protest. She lost patience, taking off the sunglasses that covered half her face, her beautiful almond eyes full of disgust. “Adam Carter, my patience has limits! You think lying here will leave me with no options?” Just then, the attending physician walked in with a nurse. He glanced at the weakly fluctuating line on the ECG and sighed, “Ms. Reed, prepare yourself.” “What?” Olivia’s body suddenly stiffened. But immediately, she let out a cold laugh. “Prepare? He’s just using this method to force me. I’ve seen this trick many times.” The doctor frowned, “Ms. Reed, Mr. Carter suffered severe brain damage from a car accident a week ago. He’s… brain dead.” “Do you know what you’re saying…” “Is that so?” Ethan stepped forward, interrupting the flustered Olivia. Gently holding Olivia’s shoulders, he said, “Olivia, don’t get upset.” Ethan’s voice was gentle, like a spring breeze in April. “Olivia, he must still resent you and doesn’t want to see me succeed.” “Now he’s pretending to be dead, determined not to help me, wanting to see us fail.” Olivia’s momentary hesitation was pulled back to reality by Ethan’s light words. The guilt in her eyes turned to anger. “What right does he have to resent us? Everything he has now, I gave him! Helping you is his duty!” Ethan held Olivia’s hand, feigning magnanimity, “Olivia, let it go.” “If Adam is unwilling, don’t force him.” “I’ll just cancel the exhibition, I’m just afraid… there might not be another chance.” Olivia gripped his hand tightly, her voice trembling, “No! I won’t let you say such things!” “I won’t let your hard work go to waste!” “Adam Carter must sign!” I wanted to rush down and tear apart their hypocritical faces. But I was just an empty soul, unable to do anything. After comforting Ethan, Olivia let go of his hand, rushed to my hospital bed in a few steps, and stared intently at my lifeless face. My face was colorless, eyes tightly closed, lips a deathly blue-purple. Anyone could see this was a body that would never wake up. But Olivia didn’t believe it. She leaned down, speaking into my ear word by word. “Adam Carter, stop pretending. Your acting has really improved.” “I’ll count to three. If you don’t get up, I’ll immediately cut off all of Emily’s expenses!” Emily! My daughter, Emily Carter! That was our daughter, the child she carried for ten months! How could she, how dare she, use our daughter’s survival to threaten me! “One.” “Two.” “Three!” Seeing no reaction from me, Olivia’s last patience disappeared. She straightened up, a cruel smile appearing on her face. “Good, very good. Adam Carter, you forced me to do this.” She took out her phone, issuing a final ultimatum to my body. “That burden won’t survive a day without my money. Do you want her to die with you?!” Just then, Ethan stepped forward again, grabbing Olivia’s hand, saying, “Olivia, don’t rush. I’ve already taken care of Emily.” Olivia was stunned, “Taken care of?” Ethan nodded, “Yes, I was worried you’d be distracted, so I took the liberty of finding a better environment for her.” “I found someone trustworthy and settled her in a very safe place, absolutely no one will disturb her.” “So, you don’t need to worry about Adam using the child to blackmail us.” Olivia looked at Ethan gratefully, then took his arm and left without looking back. “Adam Carter, I’ll give you one day to think it over. Either sign, or wait to bury that burden!” That was her last words to me. The door of the hospital room closed with a “click”, shutting out everything outside. Only my cold body remained, and my soul trembling with anger. Car accident? What a ridiculous cause of death. I didn’t die by accident… Just a week ago, when Ethan first forced me to sign that debt transfer document, I tore it to pieces in front of him. I told him that even if I burned my possessions, I would never use them for someone like him. So that night, as I was driving home, the brakes failed. In the last moment of consciousness, I saw a familiar black car flash by in the rearview mirror, with Ethan at the wheel. I didn’t die in an accident at all, I was murdered by my wife’s childhood sweetheart! Looking at my own tragically dead body, the past six years flashed before my eyes. Six years ago, I was a poor boy who had just graduated from a music college, making a living by performing in various bars. Except for a decent-looking face and a passionate heart, I had nothing. It was then that Olivia Reed found me. At that time, she was the only daughter of the top wealthy Reed family in the city. After listening to me play an entire original piece, she handed me a business card. “You’re very talented, but your style is too sad,” she said, her voice pleasant like a mountain spring. “I know someone, his name is Ethan Brooks, he’s a painter.” “An accident injured his hand, and he can no longer paint.” “He once said that if he were to make music, his style would definitely be warm, like the afternoon sun on a spring day.” She paused, pushing a check in front of me. “I want you to write songs for him, to be his musical substitute.” “You need to change your style, play the warmth he imagines.” “After it’s done, another zero will be added to the end of the number on this check.” I looked at the astronomical figure on the check, then at my worn-out sneakers, and my heart wavered. I needed money; my sister was seriously ill in the hospital, urgently needing a large sum for surgery. So I became Ethan Brooks’ musical substitute. I forced myself to write those warm, sunny tunes. I studied Ethan’s paintings, imagining what kind of person he was, trying to depict his painted world with musical notes. At first, Olivia was very picky with me. “Wrong! The emotion here is too shallow!” “You don’t understand him at all! This is just a poor imitation!” “You’ll never be him!”

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After learning that I voluntarily gave up my promotion opportunity to her beloved junior colleague, my wife, who had always been adamant about not having children, surprisingly agreed to have a baby with me. When the junior colleague found out, he became insanely jealous and threatened to resign, even picking up a scalpel to harm himself. My wife panicked and, to appease him, not only gave him my bonus but also moved out of our home to accompany him on a month-long world tour. Afterwards, my wife acted completely indifferent. “Lucas and I have been busy attending medical conferences. Unlike you, who’s been sitting around doing nothing and jumping to malicious conclusions!” “You’re the one with the dirty mind. People with rotten hearts see everything as filthy!” I clutched the pregnancy test report that her junior colleague had sent me earlier, feeling no anger, just a slight smile. Seeing that I didn’t argue, my wife looked satisfied and promised with a smile that she’d give me a big, chubby son later, fulfilling my wish to become a father. But she didn’t know that we had no future together. Not long ago, she had unknowingly signed our divorce papers with her own hand. 0

It had been a month since I last saw my wife, Olivia. As she and Lucas arrived at the hospital entrance, their colleagues immediately greeted them warmly: “Dr. Jiang, Dr. Chen, welcome back from your conference!” Watching this scene, I couldn’t help but feel a bitter laugh rising in my throat. Conference? They had actually been on a global tour! Throughout the past month, Lucas had constantly sent me photos of him and Olivia on their travels. They watched sunsets on beaches, saw the Northern Lights in the Arctic, and even took cheesy couple photos at the Eiffel Tower. Along with the pictures, Lucas would send me voice messages, gloating about how much more Olivia favored him and telling me to back off. At first, it felt like my heart was being ripped out. Now, I just felt numb and somewhat amused by the absurdity of it all. I had originally planned to return some things to Olivia’s office. Since she was back, I might as well give them to her in person. I approached them, looking directly at Olivia. “Dr. Jiang, I have something for you.” Lucas smirked and said, “Jack, are you bringing a gift for Olivia? How thoughtful.” Immediately, our colleagues turned to me with mocking looks. “A gift? Does Jack even know his place?” “As if he has a chance with Dr. Jiang. Talk about delusional!” I ignored their jeers. After all these years, I was used to it. Olivia and I had been secretly married for seven years, but she always refused to make our relationship public. She never posted photos of us together on social media or mentioned me in any of her updates. Even at the hospital, she insisted on maintaining a professional distance, making me call her “Dr. Jiang” and treating me coldly and strictly at work. Our colleagues had no idea about our relationship. When I sent Olivia flowers for our anniversary, they assumed I was just trying to curry favor with her. They mocked and isolated me, thinking they were pleasing Olivia by doing so. And Olivia? She just watched it all happen, letting me bear the brunt of their disdain. Snapping back to the present, Olivia also assumed I was bringing a gift and coldly said, “Jack, it’s work hours. If you have this much free time, you should focus on your job instead.” “Actually, this is work-related,” I replied. I handed her my white coat and ID badge, which I had already removed. Olivia froze for a moment, confused. “Jack, what’s the meaning of this?” I was equally puzzled. I had resigned, so naturally, I needed to return these items. In fact, I had wanted to quit a month ago, but I had patients under my care that I needed to see through to recovery. Just yesterday, after my last patient was discharged, I immediately went through the resignation process with HR. I had even sent Olivia an online resignation request, which she had approved. But now, why did she look so clueless? It dawned on me that she probably hadn’t even read my message before approving it. I was about to explain about my resignation when Lucas interrupted. “Jack, are you quitting?” He tugged at Olivia’s sleeve, his eyes reddening. “Olivia, Jack must be upset about the promotion incident. That’s why he’s resigning.” “Maybe I should give the promotion back to Jack. He has more experience and would be better suited for the Chief of Surgery position.” Olivia’s face immediately softened with concern. She patted Lucas’s shoulder gently. “Lucas, don’t put yourself down like that.” “You’re so talented. Jack can’t even compare to you. You absolutely deserve to be Chief of Surgery!” She then turned to me with a cold glare. “Jack, stop trying to use your seniority! If we’re going by that logic, even the old guard dog at the gate has been here longer than you!” I couldn’t help but smile bitterly. Olivia really had a talent for twisting the truth. The reality was that Lucas lacked the necessary skills and was only hired because of Olivia’s special treatment. Since joining, he had made frequent mistakes, lacking even basic diagnostic skills and nearly killing patients by prescribing the wrong medications multiple times. Each time, I had to clean up his messes. Despite all this, Olivia still insisted that Lucas was brilliant and told me to learn from him. A month ago, she even wanted me to give up my promotion opportunity to Lucas. When I refused, she gave me the cold shoulder. Not wanting to upset her further, I eventually gave in. But she still wasn’t satisfied and accused me of throwing my weight around. I let out a cold laugh. “You’re right. I can’t compare to Lucas. The hospital is all yours now.” Olivia raised her chin haughtily. “Good that you know your place. By the way, Lucas has been busy traveling lately. You’ll take over his surgeries and research reports, won’t you?” In the past, Olivia had always exploited me like this, claiming it was to “train” me. If it weren’t for her deliberately holding me back, I would have been promoted to Chief of Surgery long ago. Moreover, my skills were far from lacking. She didn’t know that many hospitals had tried to recruit me, but I had turned them all down to stay by her side. Now that I think about it, it really wasn’t worth it. So this time, I firmly refused. “I have no obligation to cover for Lucas. Besides, I’ve already—” Before I could say “resigned,” Lucas tugged at Olivia’s sleeve again, whispering, “Olivia, I’ll do it myself. Jack’s probably just jealous that we went on the trip together…” Olivia’s eyes immediately turned cold. She pulled me aside and hissed, “Jack, are you done with this childish behavior? Lucas and I were busy attending medical conferences. Unlike you, who’s been sitting around doing nothing and jumping to ridiculous conclusions!” Conclusions? It seems she had told this lie so many times that she started believing it herself. I gripped my phone tightly, the screen still showing the private message Lucas had sent me just half an hour ago. It was Olivia’s pregnancy test report! So this was their idea of “attending conferences” and “working.” This time, I didn’t confront Olivia hysterically about her lies like I used to. In the past, whenever I questioned her, she would accuse me of being paranoid, and if she couldn’t argue her way out, she’d give me the silent treatment indefinitely. It was all so tiresome. Thinking about this, I simply smiled. “You misunderstood. I refused because I’m not feeling well.” Hearing this, Olivia’s expression changed, her tone softening slightly. “Not feeling well? Are you sick?” Just as she was about to reach out to me in concern, Lucas suddenly clutched his chest, dramatically exclaiming that he felt dizzy and his chest hurt. Olivia immediately turned her attention to Lucas, running towards him. “Lucas, are you okay? Don’t scare me like that…” Of course, when it came to choosing between Lucas and me, Olivia would always pick Lucas. I had no interest in watching their melodramatic performance, so I turned to leave. As I took the elevator down to the parking garage, I noticed a brand new Mercedes parked next to my car. I recognized it immediately—it was the car Olivia had bought for Lucas!

This Mercedes was Olivia’s gift to Lucas for his promotion. She had always been generous with Lucas, sparing no expense, while being incredibly stingy with me. My old Honda was falling apart, with peeling paint and tires that had been patched up multiple times. It often stalled on me. When I mentioned wanting to get a new car, Olivia told me not to be so materialistic and to learn to be content with what I had. On my birthdays, she would only give me a brief verbal congratulation, sometimes a handwritten card. While I tried not to mind, I couldn’t help feeling envious when I saw other people’s social media posts about the lavish gifts their partners gave them. So, on my 35th birthday, I finally worked up the courage to ask Olivia for a proper gift. She got annoyed. “Jack, we’ve been married for so long. Do we really need to fuss over these trivial things?” If I had truly fussed over every little thing, we would have separated long ago. Over the years, I had given up promising career opportunities and high-paying jobs to stay and work by Olivia’s side. My base salary was the bare minimum, while my workload was the heaviest. Olivia always found reasons to dock my pay. If I entered the hospital with my left foot first, she’d claim it affected the feng shui and deduct money. When Lucas threatened to quit, she’d somehow twist it to be my fault and use my bonus to placate him. Looking back, I realize all that money she held back from me went to spoiling Lucas. The reason Olivia treated me so dismissively was simply that she thought I would never leave her. But this time, I was truly exhausted. It was time to end this miserable marriage. Snapping out of my thoughts, I drove to a law firm to draft divorce papers. Afterwards, I went home to pack a few things before heading to my apartment. I had originally planned to add Olivia’s name to the apartment deed. But when I bought it, I had a sudden change of heart and got it notarized as pre-marital property, as a sort of insurance policy. Now, I’m grateful I made that decision. Otherwise, I’d have nowhere to go after moving out. Arriving at the apartment, I entered the passcode to open the door. To my surprise, the lock flashed red and emitted a harsh beeping sound. The password was wrong! I tried several more times, but none worked. A sense of unease grew in my chest. I quickly called a locksmith to force the door open. When the door swung open, I was completely stunned. The sharp smell of cigarettes hit me, and the floor was littered with cigarette butts and scattered clothes. My beloved minimalist Italian decor had been replaced with a moody blue color scheme. The walls, once covered with photos of Olivia and me, were now plastered with pictures of her and Lucas. Then I remembered—Olivia knew the apartment’s passcode too. Since getting together with Olivia, I had kept nothing from her. But while I gave her my whole heart, she had been using this place as a love nest with Lucas behind my back. Looking at the apartment filled with traces of their life together, I felt sick to my stomach. There was no way I could live here anymore. Using what little savings I had left, I rented a small studio to stay in temporarily. Then I immediately listed the apartment for sale at a low price. Soon, someone contacted me wanting to rent the place. After signing the contract, I sent them the passcode. The new tenant moved in quickly. Just as I finished dealing with all this and was about to rest, my phone rang. I answered, and Olivia’s voice came through. She feigned innocence: “Jack, did you change the apartment passcode? And why is someone saying you sold the place to them?” I didn’t bother hiding it. “Yes, I sold it.” There was a pause on the other end, then Olivia’s voice came back shocked and angry. “You sold it? How could you make such a big decision without consulting me?” I coldly retorted, “The apartment was mine. I had every right to sell it.” “Besides, why are you so worked up about me selling my own apartment?” Olivia was at a loss for words. In the past, I never would have confronted her like this. I always said that what was mine was hers, and she had gotten used to taking advantage of that, claiming everything of mine as her own. Thinking we were family, I didn’t mind. I never expected my sincerity would be met with such entitlement. She never treated me like a husband, so why should I treat her like a wife? Hearing my uncharacteristically harsh tone, Olivia thought I was still upset about her breaking promises. Her voice softened a bit. “Jack, I know you’re still angry that I stood you up, but there were reasons for that.” “I promise, once things settle down, I’ll step back from work and give you a son. Wouldn’t that make you happy?” “But first, you need to get the apartment back from the tenant.” “I forgot to tell you, when Lucas first came to me, he had nothing. I felt bad for him, so I let him stay at your apartment since it was empty anyway. I didn’t expect you’d sell it.” “Now because of you, Lucas has nowhere to live. Jack, stop being difficult and get the apartment back. I’ll keep my promise to you eventually…” There she went again. Whenever Olivia couldn’t argue her way out, she’d make empty promises to try and get me to give in. But after all these years, I was tired of her false promises. Thinking of this, I coldly said, “Fine, I’ll get it back. But Lucas needs to pay rent first.” Olivia angrily berated me. “Money, money, money. Is that all you care about?” “Lucas came to the big city alone with nothing. They say an older sister is like a mother, and as his mentor, I’m practically his mother. It’s only right that I look after him.” “And you? Not only do you refuse to help, but you’re kicking him while he’s down. When did you become so cold-hearted?” I laughed bitterly to myself. Olivia certainly had taken good care of Lucas—she even “took care” of having his child. Besides, Lucas was the one freeloading. How had this become my fault? Seeing my silence, Olivia thought she had me cornered and pressed on, “Jack, if you don’t agree, I’m really going to get angry!” In the past, whenever Olivia got angry, I would immediately apologize and sweet-talk her, even if I had to go against my conscience. But now, I was so done with her that I couldn’t care less if she got upset. Thinking this, I enunciated each word clearly: “Olivia, Lucas’s difficulties are not my doing. I have no obligation to pay for his problems.” With that, I hung up the phone. After settling into my new place, I took the divorce papers and drove back to Olivia’s and my home, intending to have her sign them. As I approached the front door, I heard laughter coming from inside.

As soon as I entered, I saw Olivia and Lucas’s matching shoes in the entryway. His black leather shoes next to her white stilettos—they looked perfectly coordinated. Actually, long ago, I had suggested to Olivia that we could be like other couples, wearing matching outfits and using couple items. But she had dismissed the idea, saying we were too old for such childish things and it would be embarrassing. Yet now, she was clearly enjoying it. It seems Olivia hadn’t disliked couple items—she just disliked the idea of doing it with me. In the living room, our wedding photo had been deliberately defaced. Someone had scribbled over my eyes in the picture and drawn a large X across my face. Before I could process this, I heard playful laughter coming from the kitchen. “Lucas, just stand there and be good. I promise this porridge will be perfect for your taste.” “Really? Then I can’t wait to try it~” In the kitchen, Olivia had her hair tied up, exposing her slender neck as Lucas leaned in close to help her tie on an apron. Halfway through cooking, she didn’t forget to scoop up a spoonful for Lucas to taste. The two flirted and joked around, completely at ease with each other. I felt like an intruder in my own home. Just then, Lucas noticed me. “Jack! What are you doing here?” “But it’s good timing. Olivia just made some delicious rice porridge. Would you like a bowl?” As he spoke, Lucas was about to go to the kitchen to get me some porridge, acting every bit the host. Olivia quickly stopped him, giving me a cold look. “Lucas, that porridge was made specially for you. There’s none for certain others.” “By the way, Jack, isn’t it still work hours? Why are you home?” “This counts as skipping work. That’s a $200 deduction. Make sure you report it to HR later!” After all this time, Olivia still didn’t know I had resigned? But I couldn’t be bothered to explain. The resignation had been approved; she’d find out sooner or later. I had more important matters to deal with. “I came to see you. I need you to sign something.” I took out the divorce papers and handed them to Olivia. Seeing this, Lucas immediately chimed in with fake concern: “Olivia, Jack must be here to apologize about the phone call earlier. Look, he even brought you a gift! I wonder if it’s a car or a house this time?” Hearing this, Olivia’s expression softened. She also assumed these were some sort of gift to make amends, and signed without even looking. It made sense. In the past, I often placated her this way. Whenever Olivia was unhappy, I would secretly buy her jewelry or a car to cheer her up. But this time, she was in for a disappointment. “You’ve misunderstood. These are div—” Before I could finish, Olivia haughtily cut me off. “Jack, just because I accepted your gift doesn’t mean I’ve forgiven you.” “If you want my forgiveness, you need to apologize to Lucas first.” “Also, since you sold the apartment, Lucas has nowhere to stay. He’ll have to move in with us for a while. You’ll need to give up the master bedroom for him…” “No problem,” I replied. Seeing me so agreeable, Olivia looked pleased. “Jack, if only you had been this understanding from the start.” I coldly interrupted her: “It’s not just the room. I’m giving you up too.” With that, I turned to leave. Lucas’s eyes immediately welled up with tears as he stammered, “Jack must be mad at me. Olivia, I should go. I don’t want to cause problems between you two.” “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine even if I have to sleep under a bridge…” Every time Lucas played the victim, Olivia would melt with sympathy. She immediately glared at me and snapped, “Jack, what’s the big deal about giving up a room? If you don’t want to, then don’t. Why are you being so passive-aggressive?” “Besides, Lucas is already in such a difficult situation. Do you really want him sleeping on the streets? If you keep acting like this, I swear I’ll divorce you!” Lucas quickly tried to mediate, while subtly fanning the flames. “Jack, you should apologize to Olivia. What if she really divorces you? What about your job?” “The job market is tough these days, and you’re not exactly young anymore. Without Olivia, what kind of work could you even find?” Olivia snorted, also using my job as a threat. “That’s right, Jack. You’d better apologize to me and Lucas right now. Otherwise, I’ll divorce you and leave you with nothing!” Olivia was certain I wouldn’t dare leave her. She was trying to use this to force me to give in. But I just laughed and tossed the divorce papers at her. “No need for all that. We’re already divorced.”

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