Author: Momo Chan

After my mother remarried, my younger brother, Jon, discovered from Dad’s old box of belongings that Grandpa’s family came from a prestigious military background, one that held power in the Old Guard Social Circle. Jon immediately clung to the idea of becoming part of that elite world, choosing to go with Grandpa. But Grandpa had other ideas. Instead of introducing Jon to the elite circles, he had him working on the farm, tending sheep, writing, carving, and studying hard with no chance to show his face in public circles. Meanwhile, I stayed with our stepfather, Dan, at the Rivers Family Estate and became his right-hand man, eventually making my way into high society. By the time Jon returned home after graduating high school, he learned that Savannah “Sunny” Charleston and I were heading abroad to study together—and that we’d be engaged upon returning. Jon went into a rage and killed me, and in some twist of fate, we both found ourselves back at the moment when we had to choose: go with Grandpa or stay with Mom. This time, Jon hid behind Mom, insisting, “I’m not going back with Grandpa; my dad is here.” I quickly gripped Grandpa Sam’s coat. I’d had enough of the life of servitude and catering to someone else’s every whim.

When Dad passed away, he left behind two sons: my brother, Jonathan “Jon” Rivers, and me, Lucas “Luke” Rivers. Mom quickly remarried, throwing her energy into her new husband, Dan Thompson, and the unborn child she was carrying. That was when Grandpa Sam, whom we had never met, showed up and said he wanted to take both Jon and me. Mom’s face twisted with anger. “When I married your son, you didn’t contribute a penny. I’ve never even met you until now, and now you want to take both kids?” “These are my son’s children too,” he replied. “I know you’ve remarried, but I can’t bear to see them left entirely to you. If you insist, maybe I could take one of them off your hands. Let them choose for themselves.” Before he could finish, Jon had already taken Dan’s hand, eager to help him sit, calling him “Dad” with this sweet look in his eye and volunteering to make tea. With a voice as soft as silk, he promised Dan would be his only dad from now on. Mom looked completely stunned. When she was first talking about remarrying, Jon had been firmly against it. She was overwhelmed, caught between the son of her late husband and her new love. Now Jon was going out of his way to be nice to Dan, even promising to change his last name to match Dan’s. She’d always favored Jon, so his offer to stay was an easy choice. With Jon firmly holding Dan’s hand, he looked at me and said loudly, “Make sure you follow Grandpa closely, brother.” When I finished packing, ready to leave with Grandpa, Jon mocked me openly. “This time, you can get down in the dirt and dig. Time for you to see what real hardship is like.”

I knew exactly why he was so smug. In the last life, he had found Dad’s medal—a heavy-duty Distinguished Service Medal—along with a letter from Dad in a box of his belongings. The letter explained that Dad’s family came from a distinguished military background. Jon was determined to live a privileged life without feeling like a second-class member of Dan’s family. So when given a choice, he clung to Grandpa’s arm, demanding to go with him. His vision of an elite lifestyle crumbled when he saw where Grandpa actually lived: a modest little town with a small, self-built house surrounded by woods. Grandpa’s income came from farming and collecting herbs, entirely dependent on what he could sell to buyers from town. When the season wasn’t good, money was tight. Grandpa had Jon on a strict schedule, with no room for coddling. At the crack of dawn, Jon had to be up, eat, and walk or catch a bus to public school. After school, Grandpa would make him finish every bit of homework and then supervise his exercise. Weekends meant going up into the woods to forage for herbs—no leisure time, no entertainment. Jon would go on to describe his life there as unbearable misery. He wanted a housekeeper, servants, a mansion with gilded walls, and a school with a private driver. He wanted to attend a prep school and make friends with the sons of CEOs. Meanwhile, I had everything he wanted and then some. While he wore handmade, out-of-style clothes Grandpa had tailored at a local shop, I was out shopping with Dan’s black card, getting the latest designer suits and watches delivered straight to our door. When Jon was battling acne and drinking bitter herbal concoctions, Dan was arranging for my braces, a personal trainer, and a whole team to help me sculpt a perfect physique. In his eyes, I became the “lost son” everyone saw as the next Rivers heir, while he faded into the background. When I was barely sixteen, alliances with other wealthy families were already being considered. Standing by Dan’s side, I gained a polished reputation as his heir and his public face. Jon was smitten with Sunny Charleston and pestered Mom relentlessly to arrange an introduction. But she refused, so he finally asked, “I’m a Rivers too—why can’t I?” With an icy tone, Dan shot him down. “Look at you—following your grandpa around in the dirt. You don’t know the first thing about finance, fine wines, or golf. What makes you think you belong here?” Grandpa hauled Jon back to Willow Creek and forbade him from returning until after college applications. When Jon asked about the medal he’d found, Grandpa just shrugged and said he picked it up from a junkyard, telling him to focus on his studies. When Jon was taking his college entrance exams, I was performing solo piano for my debut. Dan, with his background in music, had trained me well; my hands moved with expert grace over the keys, and when I finished, the crowd applauded, and the crystal lights sparkled in my eyes. Rumor spread: “The Rivers have Luke; the Old Guard has Sunny.” But after Jon’s college results were in, he returned home proudly, only to hear about my engagement to Sunny Charleston, the girl he had liked. When Dan and Mr. Charleston discussed our study abroad plans, Jon introduced himself to Mr. Charleston, who smiled politely. But as Jon walked away, Mr. Charleston sighed, “So, I’ve heard your ex-wife brought two sons here. Well, one of them’s wasted his life; the other—Luke—is refined and accomplished. I could smell the stench of poverty on that first one as he walked past.” Jon lost it. He stormed into my room, choking me, shouting, “Die! Just die!” I swung an object at his head in self-defense. In the end, we both died that night—at just eighteen—only to return to the crossroads of fate once more. This time, he chose Dan without hesitation, telling me, “This round, you’re the one who’s going to waste away with that old man. You’ll be nothing but a bumpkin now.”

Grandpa’s place was humble, to say the least. Mom didn’t even feel responsible for providing my child support payments to Grandpa. She only showed up during school breaks when she brought Jon home, going through the motions. She’d always thought Grandpa’s life would be wealthier and more prestigious than Dan’s, or at least rich enough to maintain the lifestyle we had at the Rivers Estate. Grandpa set up a small room just for me, with only the essentials and a plain writing desk with a few pencils and paper. We walked around the land, the summer heat cracking the soil. Grandma watered the plants, saying, “You chose this path; you can’t turn back now.” Grandpa didn’t think I’d last after the luxury of the Rivers Estate. In the last life, Jon had called Mom and asked to come home shortly after moving in, but she had refused. He quickly learned that in reality, Grandpa’s household was nothing like the high-society circles in Old Bridge. I picked up a watering can and helped Grandpa. “I don’t regret it, Grandpa. I like this life. It feels real.” Grandpa just looked at me, as if taken aback. Finally, he murmured, “You’re nothing like your dad.” I asked, “What was my dad like when he was young?” The only image I had of Dad was one of worry etched into his face. But Grandpa’s expression darkened, and he changed the subject. “If you’re going to live with me, you follow my rules. I’m strict, and I don’t like nonsense. Go rest now.” That night, listening to the frogs and crickets outside my window, I drifted off to sleep.

The books piled on my desk were like a mountain. Even with two lives’ worth of experience, I hadn’t learned much about basic subjects. Studying at a public school, without the luxury of private tutors, was nothing like socializing at high-end gatherings. I’d fall asleep at the desk, only to hear Grandpa cough, startling me awake. My hand shot up instinctively, “I’m sorry, Grandpa. I’ll get back to work.” Grandpa looked at me in surprise. “You get hit a lot, huh?” I answered honestly, “Yes.” He sighed heavily. “Maybe tonight, get some rest.” I shook my head, determined. “No, if I take breaks, I’ll never catch up with my studies. My handwriting won’t get any better. I know I can do this.” Grandpa watched me for a long while. Then he said, “I’ll go shoo the cicadas away if they’re bothering you.” I could feel Grandpa’s care for me. Though he rarely said much, he would stay up with me to correct my mistakes. And though my clothes weren’t designer, he’d have the neighbor lady, a retired seamstress, take my measurements. Grandpa never said it, but I knew he felt for me, wishing Mom would come visit. But after two lifetimes, I didn’t have any expectations of motherly love, nor did I want her to show up. When she did visit, it was usually just to snap a few photos to add to her social image, acting like she cared. Every time, her gaze spoke volumes of judgment and discomfort. One day, I heard the sound of a violin drifting through the door, and my hands automatically mimicked the rhythm. Grandpa moved in front of me protectively as I looked over his shoulder. Jon stood there, playing his violin with pride, every movement as poised as a showbird, his eyes full of smug satisfaction when he finished. Not far off, Dan and Mom approached hand in hand. Mom’s belly was visibly large now, and her gaze was filled with love as she looked from her stomach to Jon. But when her eyes landed on me, her face turned cold and distant. As they drew closer, she feigned surprise. “Oh, Uncle Sam, I didn’t see you there.” Dan took this moment to show off. “Jon, you played that part well, but it should go more like this. Let me demonstrate. Maybe Luke could listen in too,” he added nonchalantly. Jon clung to Dan’s sleeve. “Dad, let’s go home. Mom says you were her first music mentor. Why don’t you teach me some more?” It was almost comical. Music mentor? It was just two people drawn to each other out of vanity and money. Performing at home wasn’t enough; they needed an audience here. With Mom in the middle, Jon and Dan on either side, she nodded my way. “Luke, stay close to Grandpa now; we’ll be off.” Jon turned to me, grinning as he asked, “Could you walk me out, big brother? I want to spend a minute with you.” I had a hunch about what he’d say. “You saw that medal, didn’t you?” he asked with a sneer. “I’m just giving you a heads-up—it’s a fake. Grandpa’s just a country bumpkin.” He smirked as he delivered the words, delighted in the jab. “Oh, by the way, did you get an invite from the Johnsons?” “Ah, I must’ve forgotten,” he continued, glancing down with a smirk as he fiddled with his expensive watch, just to make sure I’d noticed. “Out here in these sticks, you’re probably already blacklisted from the high society of Old Bridge. Beg me, and I might take you along—though you’ll only embarrass yourself.” I knew he was watching for any sign of anger or regret, but I just looked at him and asked, “When’s the last time you actually enjoyed the taste of a real meal?” That single question made his face harden. He glared. “I have no clue what you’re talking about, you hillbilly.” And with that, he turned and hurried back to the car, looking almost panicked as he left. I walked home slowly. When I arrived, Grandpa was awkwardly holding out a small cake. “It’s your birthday,” he muttered. “I didn’t know how you celebrated it back at the Rivers house, but here’s a cake for you.” It had been so long since I’d celebrated my birthday that the creamy sweetness hit me like a flood of memories. I savored every bite as it melted on my tongue. Music was something you needed talent for, but to make it big, you also had to look the part. Dan believed that if you looked the right way, the world was yours. That was why, from my early teens, I struggled with an image I’d never really wanted. Even the slightest bloating was grounds for punishment. I’d wake up starving in the middle of the night, only to be forced to purge if I was caught rummaging in the fridge. Eventually, my stomach learned the response on its own, and anything I ate past a certain amount would make me sick. For performances, Dan would buy me custom designer suits, and I’d chug protein shakes to bulk up. My body was already running on fumes, and yet he never let up. I once tried telling Mom how bad things had gotten, and her only response was, “Dan does it for your own good.” He was as meticulous in my upbringing as a dollmaker, turning me into a flawless but soulless puppet. When my half-brother was born, Dan dropped all pretense, constantly reminding me, “For Ben’s sake, you need to keep excelling. Otherwise, there’ll be no place for you in this family when Ben’s older.” Mom fully agreed, telling me, “Ben is our future, and you need to marry well so you can be there to support him.” But Dan’s heart was never content. He had plenty of flings on the side, and even with Ben around, he never reined himself in. Mom thought she could use me to bring his focus back to her.

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My husband’s form of emotional manipulation? The silent treatment. At the slightest displeasure, he storms out, disappearing for days or even weeks. I learned to set my own emotions aside, smile, and take care of our son. Then, one day while I was helping Tyler with his homework, I saw his one wish written out: “I wish Mom would just disappear. “She’s so scary when she loses it on Dad.” It was then I finally woke up. Sunday nights are the hardest. Tyler is dragging his feet, crying over homework that’s due tomorrow, while Dan is lost in his own world, gaming with his headphones on, utterly indifferent. No one wants anything to do with me. Tyler is glaring at me, teary-eyed from my scolding; Dan is pretending not to notice, clearly annoyed by my presence. I’m left standing by the table, clearing up their plates, whispering to myself that it’s all my own fault. But my heart aches. Late at night, Dan slips away to the study, Tyler falls asleep, tear stains on his cheeks, and I find myself in the bathroom, looking at my own weary reflection. This is the third month of Dan’s silent treatment. Three long months—I can hardly remember why we’re fighting. Under the same roof, he hasn’t said a word to me. I refuse to give in; I’m convinced he’s at fault. But sleeplessness nags at me. I walk to Tyler’s room to tidy up his backpack. And there, on his desk, I see the new journal I got him. Under “Rewards,” written in that innocent, clumsy handwriting, I see: “I wish Mom would just disappear.”

I blink, thinking I’ve read it wrong. I pick up the journal and take it to the living room, reading that line again. “I wish Mom would just disappear. “She’s so scary when she yells at Dad; she chased him away.” I collapse on the couch, numb, feeling an overwhelming, dull ache settle in. The study light flips off as Dan emerges, grinning. The moment he sees me, his usual icy expression returns. He doesn’t say a word, just picks up his car keys from the coffee table. As he walks past, I catch a whiff of his cologne—Vanilla Musk. It’s the same scent I picked out for him in college when we started dating. Back then, he was a tech geek, always in black-framed glasses and a white T-shirt, hopelessly oblivious to style. I remember teasing him, “A little cologne goes a long way with girls.” He promised he’d keep it because I liked it. And he’s used it ever since. The familiar scent stirs memories of who he was, of our better times, and of the family I desperately want to keep whole for Tyler’s sake. The pain my son caused me rushes back, and without thinking, I stand up and grab Dan’s arm. “Dan, please, can we talk?” Tears silently slip down my face as I stand behind him. He jerks his arm away. I notice his phone screen: he’s on a call. Who is he talking to this late at night, wearing cologne? “Dan, are you coming down? I’ve been craving BBQ all week!” A girl’s voice comes through, laughing flirtatiously. That soft, sweet tone brings back all the reasons we’re in this fight. I turn to leave, but Dan grabs my arm again. With a smirk, he says, “Beg me, and I’ll stay with you and Tyler tonight.” Dan has always reveled in the moment I give in, that satisfaction of seeing me break, especially now that some young girl is competing for his attention. The way he stays—like he’s doing us a favor.

I laughed, but not in amusement. “Beg you? As if I made Tyler all by myself. You’re his father, too, aren’t you? “Am I the only one responsible for him? Don’t you care at all? “Do you even realize the toll this is taking on him?” Dan’s expression hardened, his mouth a thin line. Like I was some madwoman, he grabbed his jacket and slammed the door behind him. Tyler’s journal, with its wish for my disappearance, was still lying on the couch. Dan had left his study lights on as usual. He never bothers with issues—either saying something sharp to rile me up or storming out the door, leaving me to pick up the pieces. The slam of the door woke Tyler. Barefoot, he padded out of his room, staring at the direction his dad left. He came over, picked up his journal from the couch, frowning. “Mom, why do you always make Dad so mad?” I didn’t answer. Downstairs, the sound of Dan’s car engine roared, and the car drove off. Guess I’ll be biking Tyler to school again tomorrow. I looked at the journal clenched in his little hand, at the eyes he inherited from his father. For the first time, I realized just how trapped I’ve been all these years.

I managed to make it to my bedroom, collapsed onto the bed. Closing my eyes, I kept seeing, “Mom would just disappear.” Those four words. Honestly, I’d never screamed at him hysterically. In fact, I went out of my way to avoid conflict, humbling myself to keep Dan around for Tyler’s sake. I pleaded with Dan to come home, to spend time with his own son. Sleep was impossible. My phone lit up on the nightstand; it was a message from Linda. “I heard Dan storm out again. Did you two argue? Are you okay?” I met Linda through Craigslist, where I sold handmade crafts after Dan cut off my access to our joint account during one of his silent treatments. I had no income, so I took on small jobs to make ends meet. Eventually, we discovered we were neighbors. She even bought from me, supporting my small business and showing care. As I heard Tyler’s door close, I texted back: “Thanks, Linda. I’m fine.” The next morning, I woke up completely drained, my eyes swollen. Dan had returned. The scent of Vanilla Musk was barely there, drowned in alcohol. His gaze lingered on me for a moment, then shifted away. This wasn’t the silent treatment. This time, he muttered from the bathroom doorway, scornfully. “Don’t you think this look is a bit dramatic?” He expected me to lash out, to scream and cry so he could leave, feeling justified. But I’d grown tired. I didn’t react. He seemed surprised, watching me with something like uncertainty. He walked into Tyler’s room and spoke in that bright, affectionate tone. “Hey, buddy, Daddy’s taking you to school today.” The two of them left hand in hand, happily chatting, his kindness for Tyler a sharp contrast to his coldness with me. Neither of them thought to ask how I was doing. It felt like two knives twisting in my chest.

Taking out the trash, I ran into Linda. She noticed my eyes and took me inside, rolling a cold spoon over the bruises under my eyes. She looked at me, her own eyes brimming with tears. “Does it hurt?” Her kindness brought back memories of Dan from when we were first married. Back then, Dan and I had nothing. Living in San Francisco was expensive, and we could only afford a tiny basement apartment on the outskirts. Our bathroom and kitchen were communal, and we slept on a small twin bed. One day, after cooking in the shared kitchen, I accidentally ran into someone in the hall. In my reflex to avoid them, I burned the back of my hand with hot food. When Dan came home, I wore gloves to hide it, not wanting him to worry, but he noticed immediately. I tried to laugh it off, saying it didn’t hurt. Dan, frantic, rushed to get me first aid. He cried so hard, his tears wouldn’t stop. I teased him, saying, “What kind of man cries so much?” He replied through sobs, “Evie, I’ll make sure you never suffer again!” That night, he held me close, promising all the beautiful things we’d do together. “Evie, I won’t ever let you get hurt again.” I believed then he truly loved me. But when did he change? Now, it feels like we’re two ticking time bombs, bound together, ready to explode at the slightest friction. Except Dan is a dud—no noise, just a silent smoke that fills every corner, choking me in fear, making me scream. Returning home, I found the place empty. The kitchen was cold, Tyler’s dirty clothes scattered across the wet bathroom floor, muddy footprints tracked through the living room. I sank onto the couch and opened my laptop. I started drafting the divorce papers. I didn’t lack qualifications compared to Dan. Before becoming a stay-at-home mom, I was a college grad, passed the bar, and worked as an attorney for two years. I once earned a good salary, winning cases and thriving in my career. Then, I got pregnant. Dan convinced me to quit and focus on raising Tyler. At first, he’d said: “When your maternity leave’s over and Tyler’s a little older, we can hire a nanny. You can get back to work whenever you’re ready.” Later, he changed it to: “Tyler’s used to you now, and I’m in a career upswing. Going back would mean hiring a nanny, and her salary would eat up yours. It just doesn’t make sense for us financially. “Let’s wait until Tyler’s a bit older.” My son hugged mine and babbled for mommy. I went soft. Blame me for not insisting. Thinking about it now, Dan’s cold violence appeared a little bit from that time.

Having finished drafting the divorce agreement, I noticed it was almost evening. Dan still hadn’t come home with Tyler. Out of habit, I started worrying about Tyler’s homework, then I slapped myself hard across the face. “As a mom, I have to be tough, just like his dad.” Then I got a call from Dan. It was that same girl from the other night. “Hey, it’s me. Dan is too drunk to get home. Can you come pick him up?” “Why don’t you just take him home? Aren’t you two close?” I glanced at the divorce papers on the table and changed my mind. “Forget it. I’ll go get him.” As soon as I hung up, I rushed to the bar where he was. Inside, a mix of people filled the room. Apart from the girl I’d spoken to on the phone, everyone else was a stranger. Yet they all looked at me with judgment, as if I had failed to be a good housewife. Dan sat in the main seat, his face flushed, raising an empty glass while Tyler was right beside him. His backpack lay discarded on the floor, and a girl dressed in revealing clothing had him in her arms, chatting away. So this is how he spends time with our son? No wonder my efforts to care for Tyler all these years seemed futile compared to the few times Dan takes him out for a good time. Before I could step inside, Tyler yelled out. “Dad, I don’t want to go back with Mom! She’ll just make me do my homework!” He darted around like he’d seen a ghost, and only then did Dan feign waking up. “Don’t be scared, buddy. Dad’s here.” Then more voices chimed in, urging me to back down. “Hey, don’t be mad at him. He’s been hiding out at my place for almost two months because of you.” “Same here, Dan’s been hiding out at my place for nearly a month; my wife is getting annoyed.” The girl next to Dan chimed in, “You know, Dan talks about you and Tyler a lot when we chat. He really cares about you both.” That’s when it hit me—this call wasn’t about getting Dan home. They wanted me to break down, beg, and apologize to him so he would come back. I couldn’t help but scoff. “With all these sob stories, can’t he just come home on his own? Does he not have legs? “I’m the one working my tail off to raise our son, yet he storms out at the slightest inconvenience and is now the one suffering. “If having fun outside is suffering, how about I trade places with you, Dan? Quit pretending to be drunk. “Is this what you want? Should I say it privately or would you prefer I say it right here?” The girl clinging to him suddenly paled. “Look, it’s all a misunderstanding.” A misunderstanding? Almost caught him in the act while he was out partying, and when I pressed him, he just shut down. Dan went cold again, not saying a word. He shot a dark glance at Tyler, who shuffled over to me, looking dejected, while still glancing back at Dan, hoping he would call him back. He thought that meant more fun and no homework. This was his way of sending me packing. Telling me to take our son and leave while he continued to enjoy himself. Why does it always have to be this way? I’ve had enough. I stood my ground, pulling out the divorce papers.

“Dan, let’s get a divorce.” The noise in the bar fell silent instantly. Dan finally looked up at me. His expression was one of disbelief, as if he couldn’t comprehend what I just said. After seven years of marriage, no matter how tense things had become between us, I’d never once brought up divorce. He knew me well enough to know I never backtracked once I made up my mind. He jumped up from the leather sofa and took a few steps towards me. “Are you serious?” Finally, he was looking me in the eye and speaking to me like a normal person. He glanced at Tyler and smirked. “Evie, if you want a divorce, you can’t take Tyler with you. He’d much rather stay with me.” Dan was confident I’d fight him for our son. He wasn’t blind; he knew how much I had put up with for Tyler’s sake over the years. Tyler clung to Dan, glaring at me with fear, as if I was going to take him away. “Mom, I don’t want you. I want Dad.” The girl stepped closer, smiling mockingly as she advised me. “Sweetie, at your age, without a job or a place to live, you can’t take custody of him. “Just take your son home; there’s no need for overnight grudges in a marriage.” I gritted my teeth, clutching the divorce papers tightly. I knew what I was up against when I walked in here, but seeing their disdain and disapproval stung. But no, I pinched myself. Reminding myself: Women must be strong; no tears. Tears are magic in front of those who love you; they’re merely a joke in front of those who don’t. “Dan, rest assured. “I’m leaving. I don’t want the child or the house.”

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My crush finally said yes to my confession. The next day, my best friend slept with him. She said, “I didn’t mean to, I was drunk that night… Can you forgive me?” I opened a can of soda, took a few gulps, and said solemnly, “You don’t understand me.” I continued, “I don’t like dirty things.” “A man who’s been with someone else is no different from trash to me.” “Don’t feel burdened. If you want him, go ahead. I really don’t mind.” Everyone in our circle knew I had a crush on Ryan. Ryan himself knew it too. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have dared to boss me around so shamelessly. I’ve lost count of how many nights I’ve received calls from Ryan while half-asleep. “Lily, I’m hungry. Bring some late-night snacks to my office.” Or how many afternoons he’d call without even a hint of courtesy. “Lily, I have a business meeting. Park your car downstairs within 30 minutes.” Or when I’d spend two hours getting ready, looking gorgeous as I stood at Ryan’s doorstep, reminding him of the date he’d agreed to half a month ago. And he’d frown and say, “Lily, can you stop being so unreasonable? I told you I have a business dinner!” “Lily.” The day after I received photos of Ryan and Julia in various acrobatic-like positions in bed, Julia found me wearing a white dress. Her face was perfectly made up. Even her knuckles, clutching a limited edition Chanel handbag, were blushed. In contrast, I had a greasy ponytail that hadn’t been washed for days, wearing a gray tank top similar to what old men in the neighborhood wear for their morning walks. And in front of me was a large can of surströmming, continuously emitting its “fragrance.” My appearance must have been quite unexpected. Julia paused before continuing. “Lily, I didn’t mean to sleep with Ryan. I was drunk that night… Can you forgive me?” My good friend had just uttered the classic line of someone caught cheating. But I didn’t want to play along with her “We’re best friends! Wah, why did you sleep with my man?!” drama. I nodded, looking indifferent: “Of course I can forgive you. Why not?” Julia was stunned: “Lily, are you serious?” “But it’s Ryan, isn’t it? Haven’t you liked him for many years?” “Many years? Has it been that long?” I shrugged: “Then it’s about time for a change.” I opened a can of soda, took a few gulps, and said solemnly: “Julia, you don’t understand me.” I continued, “I don’t like dirty things.” “A man who’s been with someone else is no different from trash to me.” “Don’t feel burdened. If you want him, go ahead. I really don’t mind.” After I said this, Julia’s face went through a rainbow of emotions. She probably expected me to cry my eyes out. So she stuttered again: “Lily, I know you’re upset.” “But don’t say things you don’t mean.” “No one expected this to happen. Why don’t we talk about how to solve this?” She tried to come closer as she spoke. But because the surströmming smell was truly overwhelming, she had to wrinkle her nose and stop half a meter away, next to an oil painting. If someone could see us two right now, they’d definitely think Julia was the owner of this mansion. After all, she’s the one wearing haute couture. She’s the one wearing limited edition perfume. She’s the one who’s been controlling her oiliness for years, to the point where even when the real owner wants to eat something she likes, she has to do it sneakily. I’ve raised this parasite for five years, spoiling her to the point where she dared to sleep with my man and then come ask for forgiveness. What is this called? Feeding pearls to a swine. “I’m really not angry.” Just then, a phone call came in. I left Julia hanging there for over half an hour before putting down the phone: “What were you saying earlier?” Julia looked at me, very frankly: “Lily, I’ve never been in a relationship before. Ryan is my first man. Can you let him go for me?” “Sure.” I nodded without hesitation and said, “He’s yours. What else do you want?” “If there’s nothing else, take out the trash by the door when you leave.” After all, you like trash so much, don’t you? After that day, I deleted Julia’s fingerprints from all the properties registered under my name. Including that townhouse near Central Park that neither my parents nor I visit often. Only a fool would pour their heart out to Julia in this world. For the past five years, to ensure Julia had enough monthly allowance to live like a princess, I worked crazy hours, overtime, risking my life to make money. But now… it’s not my responsibility to support her anymore. ··· I hired over twenty professional accountants to work overtime calculating the accounts. Three days later. Looking at the astronomical figure submitted by the chief accountant, I unwrapped a lollipop and put it in my mouth. “Are you sure she owes me this much?” I crossed my legs and smoothed the silky hair on my shoulder, exuding an urban lady vibe. “Miss Quinn, I’m absolutely certain.” “Good, good, good.” I laughed out loud three times, then emailed the bill to Ryan. And, I CC’d all our mutual friends! Actually, the moment I decided to make Julia pay back the money, I knew I’d make a small profit. But I didn’t expect it to be more than just a small profit! It was like winning the lottery, and tax-free at that! Ryan quickly called after receiving the email. I used to love his voice, obsessively saving every voice message he sent me. When he was too lazy to type and called directly, I’d beg him to say more. But now, just seeing the name “Ryan” made me sick. So. I hung up the call and sent my bank account number directly, with a note: “Surely this small amount isn’t beyond Mr. King’s means?” After doing this, I took out a stack of cash from the safe and handed it to the chief accountant. “You and your team have worked hard lately. This money is a small token of my appreciation.” “Let them buy snacks, buy whatever they like to eat.” I said this with great generosity. The chief accountant, seemingly infected by my enthusiasm, didn’t stand on ceremony. He reached out with his slender hand, took the money, pushed up his rimless glasses, and smiled faintly: “Miss Quinn, you’re very generous.” Hey! This is nothing! I waved my hand: “I’m not an ordinary capitalist, I’m…” Halfway through my sentence, I realized something was off. Was this handsome chief accountant genuinely praising my generosity, or subtly implying I was a sucker?! Looking at Zach’s face that could practically debut as an idol on the spot, I fell into deep thought. Has he always been this good-looking? How come I didn’t notice yesterday? Perhaps my image as a lovesick fool was too deeply ingrained in people’s minds. Lucas, upon learning that Julia and Ryan had gotten together, quickly arranged a gathering. He said: he wanted me to see the true colors of this pair of scumbags. To this, I quickly waved my hands and said: unnecessary, completely unnecessary. I might be stubborn, but I’m not stupid. I’ve already experienced how disgusting these two are. But my refusal was ineffective. When I showed up at the party in a Dior mini dress, Ryan had been beaten black and blue by Lucas, while Julia was sobbing softly beside him, occasionally comforting him. “Lily.” Lucas and a few other mutual friends pulled up a chair for me to sit in front of these two: “They have something to say to you.” “Lily…” Julia opened her mouth, ready to act. Ryan also looked pained: “Lily…” “Stop.” I halted this farce, serious and cold: “Julia, you said Ryan was your first man and asked me to give him to you. Okay. I don’t want trash, if you want it, it’s yours.” “Ryan, we only dated for a day, there wasn’t much emotional foundation. But you cheated.” “Lily, I’m sorry, I really…” He was halfway through his sentence when I interrupted him: “You are indeed sorry, but I don’t forgive you.” “Ryan, we’ve broken up. I dumped you.” After saying this, I went straight home from the party, not caring what the onlookers thought. But when I reached my front door, I was surprised to find that the usually well-lit upscale neighborhood was pitch black. I called the property management: what’s going on? They said: “We’re sorry, Miss Quinn, due to weather conditions, we’ll temporarily stop power supply for a while.” Weather? I looked up at the perfectly normal sky, about to tell the management: “At least find a better excuse when making things up.” Who would have thought, several flashes of lightning accompanied by rolling thunder. In less than half a minute, it turned this urban lady into a drowned rat. It was so sudden… It inevitably reminded me of certain TV dramas. I shed a few tears in the rain, reason unknown, but somehow felt relieved. I was about to indulge in it when suddenly a low, magnetic male voice came from behind: “Miss Quinn?” I turned around abruptly: “…Chief Accountant?” He looked at me, his handsome features somehow appearing more youthful without the suit, like a campus heartthrob from some university: “You’re in quite the mood.” “Ahem.” My image of elegance, sophistication, and grace was completely ruined. I forced a smile: “So late… Mr. Harrison out for a walk?” “So Miss Quinn does know my name.” Zach nodded, seeming satisfied with this. This guy was hard to read. Every time we talked, I felt awkward and didn’t know where to put my hands and feet. Trying to salvage the situation, I smoothed my hair, suddenly realizing something: “Mr. Harrison lives here too?” “Mm.” Zach tilted the black umbrella he was holding over his head towards me: “Where are you going, Miss Quinn? I’ll walk you.” “Ah, okay, thank you.” I was almost soaked through by the rain. I didn’t care much about the little shelter Zach’s umbrella provided, but as the old saying goes… It’s foolish not to take advantage of a good opportunity! Zach walked me to my front door. But my fingerprint lock wasn’t working due to the power outage, and of course, I hadn’t brought the emergency key. Three minutes later. Holding my phone with its critically low battery, I took a deep breath and said to Zach: “Maybe you should just leave me…” Zach: “Come to my place.” Our voices mixed together. A few seconds later, we spoke simultaneously again. “Okay.” “Alright!” Zach’s lips curled up slightly, as if smiling: “What did Miss Quinn want to say?” “How come you even have dimples?” As soon as the words left my mouth, I could have dug a mansion-sized hole with my toes to hide in. Trying to regain composure, I put my hands together: “I mean, if Mr. Harrison is willing to take me home, I won’t shortchange you on the price.” I’m used to solving problems with money. But Zach isn’t someone who can be bought with money. “Is this an original?!” I pointed at the painting on his wall, my eyes shining. Zach gracefully folded his umbrella: “Miss Quinn has a good eye.” “You actually have the full set of these figurines?!” I looked at the set of toys worth millions, drooling. Zach took off his glasses, using a cloth to wipe off the raindrops: “Does Miss Quinn like them?” I was completely shocked by Zach. Taking the clothes Zach handed me, I asked seriously: “Mr. Harrison, if you’re so rich, why do you still work?” “Isn’t Miss Quinn the same as me?” Zach looked at me earnestly. It was at this moment that I noticed his eyes were a beautiful amber color. The kind worth insuring. “That’s… true.” I felt a bit deflated by Zach’s evasiveness. But after a pause, Zach added: “Work allows me to meet many interesting people. Besides accumulating wealth, I also enjoy the process.” “…Interesting people?” I’ve only encountered various people with questionable intelligence. “In my heart,” Zach said casually, “Miss Quinn is one such person.” Thank you, I really appreciate it. He could have just directly called me a sucker, but he still complimented me as interesting. After showering in Zach’s guest room. I picked up my phone, which had been buzzing non-stop after being plugged in. Thanks to Lucas, the video of Julia, Ryan, and me at the party was now being frantically forwarded in various group chats within our circle. As the victim of betrayal by a friend and cheating by a boyfriend, I received unanimous praise for my cool and collected behavior. “This is so satisfying,” someone commented, tagging Ryan and asking: “When are you going to pay Lily back?” Ryan might have been drunk, as he directly sent a voice message: “What does my business with Lily have to do with you all?” “I know you’ve all been waiting to see me make a fool of myself. If you’ve got the guts, come laugh in my face!” “Ryan, stop drinking.” At the end of the voice message was Julia’s faint plea. I tossed the phone aside and lay on the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. After a while, Zach came to knock on the door: “Miss Quinn.” “The backup power in the house isn’t much. Turn off the lights after you finish showering and come out to eat something.” “Okay.” Without much delay, I put on the pajamas Zach gave me and poked my head into the kitchen: “Mr. Harrison, is there anything I can help with?” Zach didn’t look up: “Miss Quinn, just have a seat.” “Then when my phone is fully charged, I’ll send you a big red envelope?” “Miss Quinn.” Zach said as he brought out two bowls of noodles. The noodles smelled so delicious that I wondered if this dish could be mass-produced, the boxes would probably circle the Earth over 300 times: “I didn’t take you in for money.” “Then why did you?” I looked at Zach, who was so handsome there was hardly room for improvement. I forcefully swallowed the words “You’re not coveting my beauty, are you?” After eating our fill. I lounged on Zach’s high-end sofa, lost in thought. Zach washed some fruit in the kitchen and brought it out. I ate a few pieces by candlelight and suddenly felt tears welling up: “Zach, you’re such a good person.” “Miss Quinn, there’s no need for that.” He took off his glasses, pinched the bridge of his nose, and the whole person looked like the epitome of a cultured rogue, making one want to sigh in admiration. Swallowing some saliva, I said sincerely: “Mr. Harrison, I’m speaking from the heart.” “If Miss Quinn feels indebted, why not help me with something?” Zach hit the nail on the head, pointing out the reason for my flattery. I didn’t shy away, patting my chest and saying: “Mr. Harrison, although I can’t go through fire and water for you, I have many friends and can introduce you to business opportunities. I guarantee…” “Miss Quinn.” Zach interrupted my grand promises: “I hope you can be my girlfriend.” “Impossible!” I was shocked. “Miss Quinn.” The candlelight was too dim for me to see the emotion on Zach’s face, but for some inexplicable reason, I felt a sense of guilt as if I had angered him. He said: “You misunderstand.” “This girlfriend I’m talking about is a kind of cooperative relationship.” “My parents are pressuring me to get married, and I don’t want to waste time on blind dates, so I thought you could help me out.” After Zach finished speaking, I felt a bit relieved. I knew it, how could my beauty only be worth a bowl of noodles and a few cherries? “I understand what you mean, but…” Isn’t it not good to deceive people like this? I hesitated. Zach took a candle holder from the coffee table, using his nearly six-foot height to look down at me. “Miss Quinn doesn’t need to answer right away.” He looked noble and arrogant like a vampire from Europe: “It’s late today, you should rest.” “Okay.” I said as I got up. But just as I was about to enter the room, I suddenly remembered something. I turned back and found Zach still standing in the same spot, his looks worth more than a series of figurines combined, somehow making my heart race. “Zach, how old are you this year?” Zach is actually younger than me! Mature, steady, successful, handsome, and a great cook, Zach is actually younger than me!? Although it’s only three months, how can I be like an older sister in front of him? Comparison really is the thief of joy. The more I thought about it, the more I couldn’t sleep. The scene of me handing that stack of cash to Zach like a nouveau riche kept replaying in my mind. Thanks to Zach, I didn’t think about Julia and Ryan for a second before falling asleep that night. The next morning. As expected, I woke up late. I rushed out of the guest room wearing the same little dress from yesterday. I bumped into Zach, who was holding milk and toast, with my bare face. “Miss Quinn?” “You, you.” I looked up at him, strangely at a loss for words: “Don’t call me that anymore.” “Since we’re now in a ‘shared hardship’ relationship, I’ll take the lead. From today on, you call me sister, and I’ll call you little brother.” Zach laughed, his small dimples briefly appearing: “If I remember correctly, I’ve always been calling you Miss Quinn.” “How are Miss Quinn and sister the same?” I said while grabbing a piece of Zach’s toast and running out: “Little brother, I have something to do, so I’m leaving first. See you later.” Zach seemed to say something, but I closed the door too quickly to hear. I rushed back home, took five minutes to put on makeup, and opened my computer to start discussing a project with the other party. After two hours of intense debate. When the meeting ended, I collapsed back into my chair like a deflated balloon. After a moment of emptiness, I couldn’t help but smile. Who isn’t a small tycoon capable of negotiating projects now!! To celebrate the successful negotiation of the project, I decided to reward myself with a good meal. But when I changed my clothes and opened the door, I was completely stunned by the situation outside. Ryan was furious, looking slightly haggard. Zach looked innocent, his hair slightly covering his eyes without much styling, looking like a college student who had just entered society. I didn’t understand this combination. Clearing my throat, I chose to speak to the handsome one: “Little brother, why are you here?” Raising his hand like a puppy, Zach said: “Sister, you took my slippers when you left.” Indeed, what he was holding were my high heels. Too embarrassed, I was already used to it: “I’m sorry, I left in a hurry this morning and didn’t notice.” “It’s okay.” Zach shook his head obediently. I smiled appreciatively. This understanding child will surely achieve great things in the future. “Lily Quinn!” Ryan suddenly gritted his teeth: “You slept with him?” “We broke up yesterday, and today you’re already with this pretty boy?” “All your kindness to me before was clearly fake.” I was completely confused by Ryan’s words, took a breath and said: “Mr. King, are you alright?” “Do I need to make a PowerPoint of your and Julia’s explicit photos to help you understand what really happened?” “What photos are you talking about now!?” Ryan stepped forward: “I’ve caught you red-handed!” His expression was ferocious, his demeanor frenzied. Zach stepped forward, blocking between us, looking a bit innocent as he lowered his eyes: “This… uncle, are you her ex?” Ryan couldn’t accept it and roared: “What did you call me!?” “Aren’t you an uncle?” Zach fearlessly continued to add fuel to the fire of the nearly exploding Ryan: “Since you and her are over, don’t come looking for her anymore in the future. Otherwise…” His eyes darkened slightly: “I’ll get jealous.” Hearing this, Ryan’s face changed dramatically, raising his fist to punch Zach’s face. I was startled, wanting to stop it. But Zach reacted faster than me. He dodged skillfully, and on Ryan’s third attempt to hit him, Zach landed a punch right on Ryan’s face, followed by a swift kick. “Sister.” Ryan was down. Zach turned to look at me, his tone serious, as if afraid I would misunderstand. “I don’t have violent tendencies.” “I-I know.” To prevent the situation from escalating further. I pushed Zach into my house before Ryan could get up. “Lily.”

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My parents are divorced. I was granted to my mom, but I live with my dad for school. The large house I now live in has been transferred to my name after mutual agreement from both parents. After my dad remarried, my stepmom moved in with her daughter. The little one started causing all sorts of trouble, even asking my dad to arrange for us to be in the same class at school, under the pretense of needing his help. After a fight with my stepmom and her daughter, I changed the keypad lock, set the central air conditioning to 32 degrees, and took all the remote controls to my grandparents’ farmhouse. During the summer, Riverstone can reach nearly 100 degrees, and I left the heat on. When they called me, I was lounging in my grandpa’s rocking chair, munching on chilled watermelon. After my dad remarried, my stepmom moved in with her daughter, Luna Fairchild. We didn’t get along at all; I had always been the cherished one in the family, and everything revolved around me. But ever since Luna arrived, she wanted a piece of everything I had, even trying to claim my belongings as her own. I heard that Luna’s biological father was a gambler who sold everything of value in their house, almost risking his wife and kids as collateral for his debts. So, you can imagine how envious she was of the love and attention my family gave me. On her first day at our house, she saw my spacious room with the best view, complete with its own bathroom and walk-in closet. She tugged at my dad’s sleeve and said, “Dad, I’m so jealous of Ella! She gets to live in such a big room. I’ve never had a room of my own.” My dad, feeling sorry for her, gently patted her shoulder and turned to me, saying, “Ella, why don’t you let your sister stay in your room? She’s never lived in such a big house before.” I scoffed, “Is it my fault she’s never lived in a big house? Why should I give her my room? Just because she calls you ‘Dad’ doesn’t mean she is your biological daughter. Why don’t you go get a paternity test; maybe she really is your daughter?” Before my dad could respond, I turned to Luna and said, “Let me be clear: this house was bought by my mom and dad together. Now it’s in my name, so you and your mom should be grateful to stay here. If you’re not happy, then leave and stop making demands.” Feeling the tension in the room, Luna’s mom hurried over to smooth things over, chuckling awkwardly, “Oh no, we won’t take your room; the guest room is fine. It’s much bigger than the room we had before.” Luna wiped away nonexistent tears and nodded, following Selene to the guest room. My mom and dad met in college; my grandparents were university professors, so naturally, my mom was exceptional. My dad came from a poor background but worked hard academically, so my grandparents approved of their marriage. It wasn’t until after the wedding that my mom discovered my dad’s weakness—his lack of backbone and his being overly attached to his mother. My mom had received higher education in the city, while my grandma, uneducated and quite traditional, always tried to impose her will on my mom, leading to a strained mother-in-law and daughter-in-law relationship. My dad always defended his mother, insisting my mom should yield to her, which ultimately led my mom to choose divorce. By the time I was a sophomore in high school, my dad married Luna’s mom, and Luna moved in with us. After the divorce, my mom moved abroad for work, while my grandparents always favored a pastoral life and returned to their rural hometown after retirement. Though I was granted to my mom, I still lived with my dad for school convenience. “Ella, Luna is your sister; you shouldn’t be so harsh with her,” my dad said after the two of them went back to their room. I barely looked up from my book, too lazy to even raise my head. “Mom only had me; I don’t have a sister.” My dad knew my temper and could only shake his head helplessly. “Luna is transferring to your school, and she should be in the same class as you. Can you please look after her?” “In the same school? Who’s paying for her tuition, you or her dad?” I went to a private high school with great educational quality and a nice environment, which meant tuition wasn’t cheap. Luna’s dad was deep in debt and wouldn’t pay for her tuition; as for her mom, she seemed to be out of work at the moment. “Your aunt is starting a job tomorrow, so she’ll cover Luna’s tuition. I’ll take care of her daily expenses since I’m married to her now; we shouldn’t nitpick about these small things,” Dad replied. I nodded, indicating I had no problem with that. “But my allowance needs to go up.” Dad affectionately patted my head and said, “No problem.” Just as I thought this new sister wasn’t so bad after all, things took a turn for the worse.

Even though my mom was working abroad, she sent me gifts every month—mostly jewelry and clothes, which I kept neatly in my room. Every time I opened a package, Luna would hover nearby. I had warned her not to just come into my room, and she had promised to obey. Until one summer day, I accidentally discovered a selfie of hers on social media. She was wearing a dress from a trendy luxury brand. It looked just like the birthday gift my mom had sent me last year. When I got home, I opened my closet, and sure enough, the dress was gone. At dinner that night, I pretended to casually mention her photo, asking Luna, “Your dress is gorgeous! When did you buy it?” Her face flashed with panic as she stammered, “Uh, just recently, I bought it while shopping.” “That dress must have been expensive. When did you get so much money?” I pressed on. To my surprise, Luna suddenly slammed her hand on the table, angry. “Why do you keep asking? Can’t I buy clothes? Are you jealous that I have nice things?” “I’m just asking; I lost a dress that looks exactly like yours,” I explained. “Why should I answer you? I’ve never even been in your room!” she shouted defiantly. I nodded. “Since you’ve never been in my room, that means we have a thief at home. The price of that dress is enough for a police report,” I said, pulling out my phone to call the cops. “What are you calling the cops for? I thought the dress looked great, so I borrowed it!” Luna tried to grab my phone, but I dodged her. “Borrowed? Did you ask me? Did you get my permission? Taking it without asking is stealing!” “You’re being so rude! I just wore it for a bit! I’m giving it back!” Luna shouted back at me. “Where is the dress? Give it back!” I reached out my hand. After a moment of hesitation, she reluctantly pulled a crumpled dress out of her bag and handed it to me. The brand-new dress was torn in several places. “I… I accidentally damaged it,” she said, her voice shaky. “I never wore this dress. It was worth $12,800; you owe me,” I stated firmly, placing the necklace back in her hand. “What do you mean, over $12,000? Just say you want to extort me!” Luna exclaimed, her anger palpable. I was too tired to argue and returned to my room to find the receipt to show her. To my surprise, she snatched the receipt, tore it into pieces, and tossed it into the trash, grinning as she said, “Now that the receipt is gone, this dress is trash, and I won’t pay you a dime.” The birthday gift from my mom was something I treasured and never wore, and now she called it trash. Fury surged within me as I raised my hand and slapped her hard. Luna was stunned for a few seconds before we both started fighting. Just then, Selene came home from work and saw Luna and me wrestling. She rushed over to pull us apart. On the surface, she was trying to break up the fight, but secretly, she pinched my side hard a few times. So, I retaliated and started hitting both of them. Seeing me attack indiscriminately, Selene began pulling my hair, cursing, “You little brat, your dad is away, and I can’t wait to teach you a lesson! You’ve always been so arrogant toward us!” I couldn’t take them both on, so I bit down hard on Selene’s thigh when the opportunity arose. She screamed while hitting me, trying to make me let go, but the more they hit me, the harder I bit, until my mouth was filled with blood. When they finally let go, I released her and wiped the blood from my lips. While they went to the hospital to get treated, I quickly packed my bags.

The next day, I woke up early and, while they were still asleep, set the central air conditioning temperature to 32 degrees before packing all the remotes and keys into my suitcase. Before leaving, I didn’t forget to change the password on the keypad lock and locked the door; without the password, the lock can’t be opened from inside. With summer temperatures in Riverstone reaching nearly 100 degrees, they could enjoy the heat at home. After doing all that, I dragged my suitcase downstairs, my hair a mess and my clothes torn from the previous day’s altercation. To leave the neighborhood, I had to pass through the small park where the older folks were doing their morning exercises. We had lived in this neighborhood for a long time, my parents were friendly, and I often tutored the neighborhood kids, so many residents recognized me. I was crying as I walked to the gate when someone stopped me. “Oh my, isn’t this the Caldwell girl? What happened to you?” an elderly lady asked. I wiped my tears and shook my head, unable to speak. I recognized this lady; her last name was Chen, and she lived in apartment 301 of our building. “Where’s your dad? Who bullied you? Tell me, and I’ll stand up for you,” Mrs. Chen said, holding my hand with concern. Hearing “dad” made me cry even harder, saying I missed my parents. Hearing the commotion, people nearby gathered around, asking what had happened. I sobbed as I recounted yesterday’s events, and a kind lady heard that I hadn’t eaten and handed me two buns. Between tears, I said I couldn’t stay in that house anymore and wanted to go to my grandparents’ place. The lady who gave me buns was named Mrs. Zhang, known in our neighborhood for her love of gossip and her warm heart. After hearing my story, Mrs. Zhang slammed her thigh and said, “I knew that mother-daughter duo wasn’t good! When they first moved in, they didn’t even respond to my greetings. I didn’t expect them to take advantage of the situation while your dad was away, bullying you like this. It’s so heartless!” “Exactly! What kind of stepmother is genuinely kind to their kids? Poor Ella!” “She’s a mother herself; how could she do that?” While Mrs. Chen was fixing my hair, Mrs. Zhang went home to get some iodine to disinfect the scratches on my neck. Once Mrs. Zhang finished applying the medicine, I stood up, bowed to everyone, thanked them, and said I was going to stay with my grandparents. As I left the neighborhood, I could still hear the indignant discussions behind me. They messed with the wrong person; the neighborhood’s wrath could drown them in their own words. Just as I got into the car, Selene’s call came through. I hung up and turned my phone off.

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Olivia, once the untouchable prom queen, now kneels at my feet. Her tears flow freely as she begs for my forgiveness, pleading with me to let her off the hook. I pick up an old, yellowed fountain pen from my desk and fling it at her face. “Put this inside yourself, and I’ll let you go,” I say coldly. I open the door to find a pitiful face staring back at me. Even without makeup, Olivia’s skin glows, her delicate features framed by doe-like eyes that radiate innocence. A decade has passed, yet time has been kind to her enviable beauty. She looks exactly as I remember her, minus the arrogant expression she once wore. I recognized her instantly when she first started working here. Olivia had removed all traces of her carefully applied makeup before coming to see me. Before I can react, she squeezes through the door gap and falls to her knees at my feet with a soft thud. Her hands clutch desperately at my pant leg. Disgusted, I frown and step back. The girl who was once worshipped like a goddess at our school now crawls on the ground like a dog, clinging to my leg. “Rachel, please forgive me,” she whimpers. “I really need this job.” I stare down at her, my face devoid of emotion. “You don’t need to do this,” I say flatly. “This is strictly business. Whether you stay or not depends on your performance.” She doesn’t believe me. Biting her lip, she suddenly starts banging her head against the floor with such force it seems she might crack the tiles. When she looks up again, I see a faint bruise forming on her forehead. Seeing no reaction from me, she takes it further, slapping herself hard across the face twice. The sound echoes through my office, making my scalp tingle. Olivia’s eyes fill with tears. “I’m punishing myself. Is that enough?” She had hit herself with surprising force. In moments, her delicate cheeks begin to swell and redden noticeably. Now Olivia’s face is a mess of purple bruises. Tears pool in her eyes, making her look beautifully pitiful. “I was wrong in the past. I’ve already suffered for it,” Olivia chokes out between sobs. “Rachel, without this job, my daughter and I won’t survive—” Olivia tries to grab me again, but I’ve already retreated behind my desk. Her voice breaks as she continues. “You’re the HR manager now. I’m a married woman, I can’t possibly get ahead of you.” “Rachel, please take pity on me, won’t you?” Pity? The word sounds like mockery coming from Olivia’s mouth. I narrow my eyes and let out a derisive laugh. “I never imagined this day would come, even though I’ve dreamed of killing you for the past ten years.” I pick up the old Hero fountain pen from my desk, twirling it between my fingers. It’s not enough. How could it ever be enough? “I never intended to abuse my position for personal revenge. You’re the one who came begging me.” In the next moment, I hurl the pen at Olivia’s face. Ink splatters across her features. She freezes in shock as black liquid drips down her elegant nose onto the floor, staining her fair skin. I’m reminded of how she once crouched before me, wielding a pen with a demonic grin. My lips curl into a cold smile. “Put this inside yourself, and I’ll let you go,” I echo her words from long ago. “After all, that’s what you did to me back then.” “Minor tearing.” The young female doctor’s eyes held a questioning look. “Do you want me to take photos… as evidence?” I stared at her blankly, my legs trembling uncontrollably. I couldn’t make a sound. The next day, I stood outside the teacher’s office clutching the medical report, feeling lost and dazed. Olivia walked out, saying goodbye to the teacher in a sickeningly sweet voice before striding away in her pretty leather shoes without a backward glance. Catching the teacher’s cold stare, I felt a surge of fear and almost fled. But the doctor had told me teachers were the most noble profession under the sun. Surely the teacher would help me. “You’re just in time. Olivia said she saw you at the hospital yesterday. Did you go?” “Yes, but it was because she—” Before I could finish, she impatiently grabbed a notebook from her desk and struck me across the face, cutting off my words. “I’m tired of dealing with troublemakers like you. Don’t bother coming to me with your problems anymore!” She didn’t even want to hear my explanation. Back in the classroom, everyone laughed when they saw my torn books and reddened face. I heard boys loudly claiming I earned money through prostitution and had just had an abortion. They grabbed my bloodstained uniform jacket, dragging me to the front to show everyone the “evidence” of my “abortion.” Under the stares of the entire class, I could barely breathe. When the bell rang and the math teacher entered, shoving me so I fell to the ground, I finally snapped back to reality. Sitting at my desk, I was still gasping for air when my deskmate unscrewed my water bottle and patted my back. I glanced at her gratefully and took a sip. The taste was strange. When she asked if something was wrong, I nodded. She excitedly told the others, “Rachel noticed!” Everyone turned to look at me, including Olivia. She was toying with a Hero fountain pen, her doe-like eyes sparkling with a bright smile. My deskmate burst out laughing. “This is water from the boys’ toilet! They all say you’re always eating that stuff from boys, so you must be able to tell. I can’t believe it’s true!” I ran to the bathroom and threw up in the sink. Then I was punished for disrupting class, forced to stand for the entire morning. The medical report hidden in my clothes could never be shown now. It would only become evidence of my sleeping with men. I could already imagine the boys using the photos to humiliate me, just to make Olivia smile. They trampled me on ordinary days, turning each mundane day into hellish torment for me. I never imagined our positions would be reversed after ten years. I smile coldly. “Olivia, I remember you gave me this pen because you hated me using the same things as you.” Olivia drops the pen in horror. She looks disheveled, but it’s not even a fraction of what I endured. “Rachel, if you’re willing to forgive me, I can pay you. Just let me work here in peace.” I tilt my head, not quite understanding what she means by “work in peace.” “I told you, this is strictly business,” I say. “As long as you perform well and your team leader and coworkers give you good reviews, I’ll evaluate you fairly.” She pauses, then covers her face as she walks out, returning to her desk where she sobs quietly. I stand in the doorway, silently watching as everyone gathers around to comfort the new fragile flower, not understanding why. Even some of the usually aloof male colleagues offer her tissues. Olivia uncovers her face, revealing her ink-stained features. They look at me in shock. “It’s nothing, I just accidentally got ink on myself. It has nothing to do with the manager. Please don’t worry about me.” Her pitiful act is enough to shake the good reputation I’ve built over years of kindness. “Ms. Chen is a good person, she wouldn’t do this on purpose…” one of my closer subordinates says softly in my defense. As soon as the words leave her mouth, Olivia’s eyes redden even more. Her expression silences everyone present. I smile and shake my head, closing the door. Olivia truly wants to stay at the company. The internship lasts three months, with weekly peer reviews and monthly evaluations from team leaders. Olivia is well-liked, just like in high school. The subordinate who defended me earlier sits across from me. Through the glass conference room door, we can see Olivia typing furiously at her desk. She seems busier than those around her, appearing diligent and hardworking. “Olivia is pretty nice. She helps out with a lot of little things at work, like printing documents or getting invoices.” “Does she complete team leader assignments together with everyone too?” “…Well, she has been out of the workforce for a few years. But she’s eager to learn. She might not be great at new tasks at first, but we manage.” I check a box on her file and glance up. “Is that her daughter?” I ask, pointing to the little girl beside Olivia’s desk. Anyone could tell at a glance – the girl is Olivia’s spitting image. Delicate and pretty, she sits quietly in a chair playing with an old model phone. With her head bowed, she looks like a porcelain doll. “Yeah, she often brings her daughter to work. But the little girl is well-behaved, just doesn’t talk much.” My subordinate’s expression turns gossipy. “I heard Olivia’s husband is abusive. She desperately needs this job to support herself and her child. That’s why she fought so hard to get into the interview. Now she even does some livestreaming to earn extra money. It’s so sad.” I smile slightly. “Olivia and I were high school classmates.” “She married well. Her husband is actually one of our company’s big clients. Everyone’s met him before.” My subordinate’s eyes widen in surprise, her brow furrowing. I nod and smile, then wave her back to work. During lunch, my colleague and I run into the little girl alone. I’ve heard her name is Lily. I crouch down in front of her. “Lily, why are you here by yourself?” She clutches her skirt tightly, her eyes wary. I notice a small bruise on her wrist. I take out a box of freshly baked egg tarts from my bag, offering her one. Lily’s eyes light up, but she doesn’t dare accept. After a moment’s hesitation, she shakes her head weakly. “What child doesn’t like sweets?” I wonder aloud. “Lily!” A voice calls from behind me. I turn to see Olivia with her supposedly wealthy husband. I’ve met Mr. Thompson once before. He nods at me in greeting before turning his gaze to his daughter. His face shows little affection, but it’s not entirely cold either. At the sound of Olivia’s voice, the little girl startles. Her pupils constrict as she quickly hops off the chair and scurries over to them, softly calling out “Daddy.” Olivia holds a container of plain noodles. She glances at me discreetly. “Don’t eat things strangers give you!” Then she pulls her daughter away without looking back. I’m curious about the subtle dynamics between the couple. Mr. Thompson just smiles politely before leaving as well. My colleague looks surprised. “The Thompsons are old money. Their daughter probably wants for nothing materially, but likely isn’t the center of attention. Still, I never imagined he would hit his wife and child…” “I heard from the boss that it was a shotgun wedding. He probably doesn’t have much feeling for Olivia. They might even have a prenup that leaves her with nothing if they divorce.” “No wonder Olivia needed this job… But it’s strange her husband would come with her.” I watch thoughtfully as Olivia leads the little girl towards the break room. As they walk away, the child turns back and our eyes meet for a few seconds. She had clearly wanted the treat, but pretended not to care under her mother’s watchful eye. My colleague tries to reassure me. “You have to be careful with kids that age, especially in her situation. What mother doesn’t love her child?” At the end of the day, Olivia is the last to leave, joining me in the elevator. “Rachel, my child is innocent. If you want revenge, come after me. Leave my daughter out of this.” I smile at the girl. “The things you’ve done – if they don’t come back on you, they’ll come back on your daughter.” “I’ll destroy what you care about most.” We stand shoulder to shoulder. Olivia exits on the first floor. As the doors close, she waves a voice recorder at me, flashing that familiar sly, cunning smile I know so well. “Do whatever you want,” she says carelessly. “It won’t be me who suffers in the end anyway.” Soon after, a recording circulates through the company’s internal email. In it, a woman’s sinister voice says: “It will come back on the child.” Many recognize it as mine. During the morning meeting, I feel probing, suspicious gazes, but I don’t care. Looks can’t kill, after all.

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My dad wrote a will. Whichever of my brother or I has a child first will get his entire inheritance. So, I quietly poked holes in every condom. But what I didn’t expect was that my boyfriend had secretly replaced my vitamins with birth control pills. Yet I still ended up pregnant. It’s just…the baby isn’t his, and he doesn’t know. There’s no love lost between my brother and me. He’s ten years older than I am. Thanks to my dad’s affairs, my mom left right after she had me—took her payout and vanished. Dad passed me off to Mason, and Mason handed me over to the nanny. Even if I was bruised or hurt, he’d just act like he didn’t see a thing. As for Dad? He was hardly ever home. And after I was born, he got more careful about keeping things “fun with no consequences.” I found out later that my brother had once told him if he dared to bring home another child, he’d throw it into the river. And Mason kept his word. The older he got, the more intimidating he became. Even Dad was a little afraid of him sometimes. Recently, Dad found out he has kidney disease. Now, after a lifetime of living as he pleased, he suddenly wants a grandchild. So, he told Mason and me: “Whichever of you two has a child first will get my entire estate.” Mason’s thirty-four now, the city’s youngest, most successful CEO. And my dad? His wealth is worth at least ten times my brother’s. Mason isn’t married, but he has plenty of lovers. I only have one boyfriend.

Mason has the upper hand in this. While he can cast a wide net, I’ve only got one option. The only advantage I have is time. I feigned feeling unwell to drag my boyfriend, Adam, to the hospital, sneaking in a full checkup. Just as I thought, he’s very healthy—and his sperm count is high. He has an exhausting amount of energy. As for me, I’d been sedentary for too long, and my immune system was weak, so they prescribed me some vitamins. I had no plans to tell Adam about wanting a baby. He’d been meticulous about protection. When I casually asked if he was afraid of me getting pregnant, he weighed his answer carefully. “Lena, right now, my career is just getting off the ground. If you had a child now, I wouldn’t be able to take care of you properly.” Then he held me, kissed my forehead, and added, “I want us to be settled, married, and stable before we think about a baby.” Adam had a knack for making everything he said sound sincere. But that also made him inflexible. If he knew my real motive, he’d insist we get married first, which would trap me—if Adam didn’t work out, I’d have no other options. That inheritance would go straight to Mason without a fight. That wasn’t going to happen. No matter the odds, I had to try. Even if he worked his whole life, Adam would never make even half of what Dad’s worth. Our family’s business legacy, grown over generations, had expanded overseas. But Dad was selfish and never offered any help, not even to Mason. He knew my brother didn’t care for me, which made me think this inheritance race was really just a way for him to push Mason. No matter what wild things he might do, he’d better not think about dethroning Dad. “What’s got you so lost in thought?” Adam, fresh from his shower, hair damp and hanging over his forehead, was standing there in nothing but lightweight lounge pants. He laughed softly, cupped my face, and leaned his nose against mine. “Were you thinking about something?” I swallowed. I wasn’t particularly passionate about this, actually. But Adam, no matter how busy, insisted on at least four times a week. So how could I up the frequency without raising any suspicion? I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulled him down onto the bed, and kissed him with my eyes closed. But when I started tugging at his waistband, he nuzzled my neck and let out a quiet chuckle. “Why so eager tonight?” He looked at me. For some reason, there was no humor in his eyes. But before I could think too much about it, he reached into the drawer and pulled out a condom. He rolled me over, so I was facing away from him. Hearing the wrapper rustle, I exhaled in relief. Every time Adam looked at me with those eyes, I felt like my little schemes were laid bare.

The next morning at work, I ran through Mason’s schedule. When I finished, he looked at me with a wry grin. “You’re working pretty hard for that inheritance.” For some reason, Adam had decided to leave plenty of marks on my neck last night. Even with concealer, they were still faintly visible up close. “So are you, big brother,” I replied. Yesterday, he’d left work early to visit one of his “special friends.” Ours wasn’t some covert battle; it was an open war. But Mason was leagues ahead of me, running a major company, while I was just his assistant because Dad put me here. “Never thought of trying with someone else? You trust your boyfriend that much?” “He’s younger than you. Don’t overwork yourself,” I shot back. Mason just raised an eyebrow, still amused. “Good luck.” As I left his office, he tapped his desk. “Lena, pick up Bianca Ryder at five.” Bianca Ryder—a famous model, my brother’s favorite mistress with a killer body. “Will do, Mr. Tanner.” When I picked up Bianca, she hugged me enthusiastically. The first time we met, she thought I was Mason’s new fling. After sizing me up, she scoffed. “So he’s into the girl-next-door type now?” “Can you really keep him interested?” Just then, Mason walked up, wrapped an arm around her waist, and flashed his affectionate smile. “Stop talking nonsense. This is my sister.” Bianca wasn’t buying it. “Didn’t you say you were an only child?” “Half-sister. My dad brought her home from…elsewhere.” “He was going to dump her in the river, but she cried and clung to my leg, so I let her stay.” Mason wasn’t lying. The day he brought me home, he’d tried to throw me out. I cried until my nose ran, and he finally left me alone. After that, no matter what the nanny did to me, Mason never stepped in. Bianca was his longest-standing lover. He eventually found a sweet, innocent type, just like she’d predicted. They’d fought, but then his behavior got even worse—every trip meant another fling, just like Dad. They broke up, but recently her runway show caused a stir. He’d watched it repeatedly, then courted her until she came back. I figured she must really love him to forgive him for so much. But something felt different this time. On the drive back, she asked calmly, “So where’s Mason?” “He’s in a meeting and asked me to pick you up.” Mason had bought her a villa. Bianca just nodded, quiet until I pulled up. Then she looked at me, a small, steady smile on her face. “He wants a baby with me.” I blinked, gripping the steering wheel. “How do you feel about that?” She touched her stomach. “Do you think a baby would settle him down?” “Bianca, what if he’s saying the same thing to someone else?” I didn’t believe Mason would put all his hopes on just her. She unbuckled, patting my head. “Lena, I want to believe him this one last time.” “He told me this time I’d be the only one.”

I’ll admit it—Mason knows how to play his part. He had me clear out every lover besides Bianca, even sending them off with gifts, houses, and cars. When Bianca asked if Mason planned to marry her, I bit my lip and nodded. She paused, thoughtful. “Maybe he’ll propose if I get pregnant. I can feel his excitement.” I watched her smile, not having the heart to tell her otherwise. The baby part was true, but a marriage? I doubted it. Sure enough, within a week, he brought in two more. One was even younger than me, still fresh and a little innocent. He wasn’t hiding anything from me. I was the one who had to pick them up and drive them to his place. The excuse he gave Bianca was believable—work was busy, expansion projects and all. Sometimes he had me bring them to his office. Mason didn’t worry about me ratting him out. Because, after all, he held Adam over my head. If he wanted, he could destroy him with a snap of his fingers. One of the new girls was Grace Hayes. She was nothing like Bianca, with her shy demeanor and porcelain skin, but Mason was captivated. He piled my workload so high I barely had a moment’s rest, while he spent lunch breaks shut away with her. Hearing their sounds through the wall, my blood boiled. After work, I went straight to Adam’s office. He looked surprised to see me. “What are you doing here?” He’d been avoiding me lately, using work as an excuse. I wondered if I’d been too forward. Seeing Mason flaunt it all so openly just made me feel worse. Tears burned my eyes, and I couldn’t stop them from falling. He wrapped me in his arms. “What’s wrong? Did Mason give you a hard time again?” I buried my face in his chest. “Why haven’t you been home?” His voice softened. “Too busy.” “It’s my fault. I’ll be home every night from now on.” His eyes were full of concern. I kissed him, and he froze, taking my hand. “Lena, this is my office.” Ignoring him, I kissed his throat, hearing him let out a deep sigh. As my hands reached his shirt buttons, I murmured, “Adam, don’t you want me?” “Of course I do,” he whispered hoarsely. He closed his eyes, then opened them again, struggling to hold back. “There’s nothing here.” I ignored him, fumbling around. “I’m on the pill.” Adam’s breathing grew heavier, his kisses deepening. But he still didn’t give in, taking his time instead to care for me. I woke up later in the dark office, moonlight casting shadows. I walked barefoot to the door. Adam was by the window, his torso covered in scratches. A cigarette dangled from his fingers, muscles flexing as he inhaled. Just as I was about to approach, he muttered into his phone, “Hurry it up.” “And be careful. Lena’s health isn’t great. She shouldn’t be taking too many pills.” That night, I took my “vitamins” as usual. Adam watched, hesitant, until he finally spoke. “You’re taking those every day now?” I nodded. “Try spacing it out to every other day. Even vitamins can be harmful.” I shrugged. “They’re just vitamins.” He leaned down, kissing me softly. “Lena, just trust me.” He took the bottle from my hand and placed it on the shelf. Adam carried me to the bathroom, steam filling the mirror as he gently wiped away my tears. “Too much?” he murmured, his touch lightening. “Were you this bold in my office today?” I couldn’t answer. I didn’t know what to say. Lately, I’d been nauseated more and more often. Every time, I hoped for a positive test. Still no sign of pregnancy, but I couldn’t give up. So I took the bottle to the hospital, where the doctor gave me the results: they weren’t vitamins—they were birth control pills. Adam was working for my brother all along.

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When the zombie apocalypse broke out, I was watching my former bullies turn on each other from the comfort of my cozy, climate-controlled underground bunker. I felt a surge of satisfaction as I snapped a picture of myself enjoying a hot pot meal while my little dog happily munched on a juicy steak beside me. “Want some?” I posted in our class SnapChat group, watching their reactions evolve from threats to desperate pleas. I only replied with one sentence: “Dream on, idiots.” October 21, 2025. It was the third day of the zombie outbreak, and the fragile order at school had begun to crumble. On the first day, the school had hurriedly summoned students to a designated “safe room,” offering a brief respite from the chaos outside. They provided us with a week’s worth of food. But human nature is unpredictable. Many people, in their desperation to survive, began stealing food. As supplies dwindled and we lost contact with the outside world, fear took hold. What started as unity quickly devolved into the worst of human nature. People began fighting over who ate how much. Today was no different. “Let Aria go outside to get supplies. She’s fearless, aren’t you, Aria?” Vanessa’s voice wasn’t particularly loud, but in the eerily quiet room, it seemed to echo. All eyes turned to me. “Yeah, Aria’s dad was a psychic or something. She’s probably not scared of those things,” someone chimed in. “She’s pretty big too. She could probably carry back a lot of stuff.” The voices grew louder. They stared at me, speaking casually, but their eyes were full of threat. They seemed to have forgotten that I was just a girl. Before I could react, someone pushed me towards the door, feigning encouragement: “You can do it!” I looked at the horde of zombies outside, then back at the people inside. Their expressionless faces were more terrifying than the zombies. They shoved me out the door. I tried to resist, but the commotion attracted nearby zombies. They lurched towards me as the people inside held the door shut. I saw Vanessa’s smug smile as she watched me. I turned and walked towards the zombies…

The pain jolted me awake. I suddenly stood up. The whole class turned to look at me, accompanied by some snickering. “Aria! What are you doing?” The English teacher’s voice pierced my ears. I was still processing the vivid sensation of being torn apart by zombies. Looking at the familiar classroom, I wondered if it had all been a dream. A familiar, nauseating voice spoke up beside me: “Teacher, Aria’s dad was some kind of psychic who just died. Maybe he’s sending her messages from beyond.” The class erupted in laughter. “That’s enough! Aria, take your book and stand at the back of the class!” The English teacher slapped her desk loudly. I obediently took my book and walked to the back of the classroom. I was still thinking about that dream. If it was a dream, it felt too real. The sensation of being ripped apart by zombies still lingered on my skin. As soon as class ended, I rushed to the bathroom with my phone. There was no news of zombies in the country yet, so I searched foreign platforms for related information. Sure enough, I found something about zombies. In the video, a man staggered towards the camera. He was covered in blood, his face unrecognizable. The visible parts of his skin were mottled with black and blue veins. I was certain – he wasn’t human. He was a zombie. Exactly like the ones in my dream. I confirmed it then – I hadn’t been dreaming. I had traveled back in time. I exited the page and checked the date. September 28, 2025. One month until the zombie outbreak. I had to find a safe place within this month. Knock knock knock! Someone was pounding on the bathroom door. “Aria, hurry up and come out!” It was Vanessa. I remembered everything she had done in my previous life. It was just like her to do such things. I clenched my fists, forcing myself to stay calm. It wasn’t time yet. I walked out to see her and her two sidekicks. Vanessa raised her hand and slapped me, then spoke coldly: “You’re so slow. Be quicker next time!” “Taking so long in the bathroom, maybe a ghost was pulling you down,” one of her minions sneered. “How could she be afraid? Maybe she inherited her dad’s psychic powers!” Vanessa laughed, her eyes full of mockery. They said I wasn’t afraid simply because my dad had been a psychic. My mom died when I was young, and my dad had raised me alone. I was never ashamed of his profession, but I always avoided the topic around my classmates. Then my dad died of stomach cancer, and my homeroom teacher brought Vanessa to visit me, pretending to care. When I returned to school, I became the target of everyone’s mockery. They didn’t seem to care that I had become an orphan. They just thought it was fun. Led by Vanessa, they threw balls at me during PE class. One person started it, then more joined in. They poured toilet water into my water bottle. They smeared glue on my chair and wrote disgusting things on my desk. I tried to tell the teachers, but each time it only led to worse bullying. Some people, when subjected to this kind of treatment for a long time, choose to silently endure it. I was one of them. I ignored them and walked straight out of the bathroom. Their vulgar insults grew louder behind me. I went directly to the teachers’ office to find my homeroom teacher. “Teacher, I’ve been feeling really unwell lately. I’d like to take a few days off,” I said, my voice trembling slightly. I knew very well what I was shaking about. In my previous life, my ending was a tragic death. This time, I absolutely wouldn’t let that happen again. The homeroom teacher noticed the red mark on my face, probably thinking I had been self-harming. She took out a leave request form, approved a week’s leave for me, then told me to relax for a few days before coming back. I took the form, thanked her, then turned and walked straight out of the school. I had no intention of returning to that nightmarish class.

They all knew Vanessa was bullying me, but not a single person came to help me. I’m not a saint. I just wanted to get away from these people. Their lives or deaths were none of my concern. I walked out of the school gates and took a taxi home. My dad was a psychic who had helped countless wealthy executives. These people all had one thing in common – they were very generous with money. Over the years, my dad had also saved up a considerable sum for me. I entered the house and took out the two bank cards my dad had given me before he died. He told me one card contained the money he had saved for me over the years, and the other was a large insurance policy. After his death, the insurance company would pay me a million dollar benefit. Together, they totaled 1.7 million dollars. At my dad’s funeral, all sorts of people came to pay their respects. Their careers had all benefited from my dad’s help to some degree. Seeing that I was alone, they discussed among themselves and decided to leave me an education fund. Initially, I didn’t want to accept this money, but they were very insistent, demanding that I take it. Now I had to thank them for leaving me $300,000. I looked at the modestly sized house before me. Though small, it was in the city center, so the price was certainly not cheap. I couldn’t live in a house in the city center. I had to sell it and find a new place to settle down. I quickly contacted a real estate agent and asked them to help me sell the house within three days. I didn’t mind if the price was lowered. Next was finding a place where I could safely lay low.

I took out my phone and searched for houses in the suburbs. I thought that maybe if I got away from the city center to a sparsely populated area, there would be fewer zombies. Opening a certain app, I searched for suburban houses and was surprised to see an old bunker for sale. I immediately decided to buy this bunker. The bunker was spacious, definitely cool in summer and warm in winter, and much cheaper than a small villa in the suburbs! I contacted the seller right away, saying I wanted to buy it immediately and needed to see it now. To avoid attracting attention, I lied to the seller, saying I wanted to develop it into a weekend getaway. I told him it was a secret project and asked him not to tell anyone. Seeing how decisively I bought it, the seller sincerely promised he wouldn’t let anyone else know. Soon, I signed the purchase contract with the seller. Now there were 29 days left until the zombie outbreak. I had found a safe house, and next was to fill my safe house. After two busy days, I finally started furnishing my new home. I was too afraid of anyone knowing my address, so I contacted the largest construction market in the neighboring city and told them my requirements. Replace the entrance door with the best security door, and install three layers. Build a two-story small villa inside the bunker, to be completed within 10 days, using the best materials for all the hard decorations. The renovation foreman looked at me in confusion. I lied, saying I was building a private luxury hotel here and needed to protect the guests’ privacy. I was paying a high price, which immediately silenced any further questions from the renovation foreman. He just smiled and said, “Rich people really know how to play.” In my previous life, I died early and didn’t know how long this zombie apocalypse would last. To ensure I could live comfortably, I started buying in bulk. The zombie outbreak would definitely lead to power outages, so I immediately ordered 50 solar power banks. Cooking would also be an issue, so I bought 100 bottles of propane and stoves. To avoid any accidents, I needed to buy 50 boxes of charcoal. The bunker was still being renovated, so for now I was just buying daily necessities, self-defense items, and entertainment. I sat in my room thinking about what else to buy. Toilet paper always seems to run out without notice, so I bought 2,000 packs, and 200 boxes of sanitary napkins. Since I wouldn’t be able to go out once the zombies came, I bought 5 sets of pajamas for each season – spring, summer, fall, and winter. For underwear, laundry detergent, toothpaste, toothbrushes, shampoo, shower gel, facial cleanser, and skincare products, I bought enough for three years in one go. Looking at the list in my notes, I fell asleep peacefully, planning to go to the wholesale market first thing in the morning.

On the third day after my rebirth, the first thing I did when I woke up was check the time on my phone. I was still afraid that my rebirth was just a dream I had before dying. Seeing the date on my phone, my anxious heart settled down. I quickly got up and got dressed. On the way to the wholesale market, I passed by a breakfast shop I often ate at. I went in and ordered my favorite breakfast, savoring every bite knowing these meals would soon be rare. I quickly arrived at the wholesale market and bought everything on my list from yesterday, telling the merchants to deliver in a week. Seeing how much I was ordering, the shop owner’s smile never left his face. Just as I finished buying everything, I got a call from the real estate agent. “Hello, Ms. Collins. The house you asked us to sell has a buyer,” the agent said excitedly. “Can they pay in full?” That was my main concern now. I knew a house in the city center wouldn’t be hard to sell, but what I needed now was cash. The agent’s voice became even more excited, “Yes, we found a buyer who can pay the full amount in one go.” I breathed a sigh of relief and continued, “Alright, you can handle the rest then. I’ll move out of that house within a week.” After hanging up with the agent, my phone vibrated with an incoming message. It was from an unknown number: “Aria, don’t think you can escape my grasp just because you’re on leave. I know your home address. I advise you to come back soon. Without you around, we have no one to play with.” Looking at the content of the message, I knew without thinking that it was sent by Vanessa. Perhaps due to the physiological fear I always had of her, my hand holding the phone still trembled involuntarily. She said she knew my address now, and I had nowhere to hide at the moment. Thinking of the safe room the school arranged for us in my previous life, an idea came to mind. I’d return to school in a couple of days. Two days later, having dealt with the house issues (the house had been sold and I was temporarily staying in a hotel), I returned to school with just a few belongings. Sure enough, as soon as I entered, I received Vanessa’s “welcome ceremony” – a pile of garbage fell on me from above the door. No one in the class helped me. They even thought it was funny. They mocked me, laughing at my disheveled state. I clenched my fists. Just endure a little longer, I told myself. They would soon face their retribution. I walked to my seat. Just as the bell was about to ring, I left the classroom with my backpack. I knew they would definitely tell the teacher, but I didn’t care. I went directly to the so-called safe room, which was actually just the school’s large auditorium. It was a temporary safe room set up by the fire department. After doing this, they left to rescue others. I entered the auditorium. It wasn’t very large – in my previous life, only about 80 people from the whole school survived. Many teachers, for the sake of their families, ran straight home, only to become zombies on the way. Some teachers stayed behind with the soldiers to maintain order. Scenes from my previous life kept flashing through my mind. It was here that they pushed me out. I opened my backpack and installed ten hidden cameras in different inconspicuous places. Satisfied with my work, I left the school. Just as I stepped out of the school gates, I received a call from the renovation foreman saying that everything I had requested was completed and they had already cleaned up. They were just waiting for me to come and check. Because I paid a high enough price, everyone’s work efficiency was very high. I couldn’t help but think to myself: Money really is good. I called the wholesale market owner, telling him they could deliver the goods tomorrow. The owner on the other end of the phone, hearing it was me, quickly agreed with a smile, saying they would definitely deliver tomorrow. Next was stockpiling. I first went to a furniture store and bought a lot of soft furnishings. Since the money from selling the house – $1.2 million – had been credited to my account, I could spend freely to meet my needs. I bought the best sofas, beds, and other furniture. Then I went to an electronics store and bought two laptops, three tablets, and 50 power banks. After that, I took a taxi directly to the bunker. When I stepped into the bunker, I couldn’t help but marvel – money really can make anything possible. I was very satisfied. I added another $1000 bonus for each worker. They were all quite embarrassed, saying this was just their job. Seeing their reactions, I couldn’t help but give them a word of advice. “Guys, with the pandemic flaring up again, you should stock up on supplies at home. I heard the neighboring city’s outbreak is recurring.” I glanced away, trying to sound casual as I said it. I couldn’t save everyone. In my previous life, I died at the hands of others. This time, I had to protect myself above all else. After seeing off the renovation team, the people from the wholesale market and furniture store arrived next. Seeing such a large operation, I used the same excuse to fool them. All the items I bought were now stored in this bunker. Looking at the room filled with my favorite furnishings, I suddenly felt very secure.

Now there were 10 days left until the zombie outbreak. I went to buy food that could be stored for a long time. As for vegetables and fruits, I’d have to wait a while before purchasing those. As I was walking down the hill, I saw two little dogs following me, wagging their tails. Looking at the two chubby puppies, I thought that maybe adopting them would be a good idea. They could add some joy to my life. I beckoned to them, and the two little guys came running over, one white and one black. They were so small that I could hold one in each hand. After settling the two puppies, I returned to the city’s largest farmers’ market. This biggest farmers’ market had everything you could think of. Anything related to food could be found here. Most importantly, no matter how much you bought here, no one would think it strange. This was exactly what I wanted. I bought 50 boxes of instant noodles, 100 boxes of cola, 10 boxes each of various canned foods, 100 bags of rice, 50 barrels of cooking oil, 10 boxes each of various dehydrated vegetables, 20 bottles each of seasonings, and lots of flour, noodles, peanuts, etc. Now it was time for my favorite snacks: 20 bags each of soy milk, black sesame paste, milk, and yogurt; 10 boxes each of chocolate, nuts, sunflower seeds, potato chips, chicken feet, jelly, pork jerky, beef jerky, and spicy strips. And for the two puppies’ food, 50 bags of 20-pound dog food, 20 cans of puppy milk, and 5 boxes each of various puppy foods. Watching the merchants load two large trucks full, I was very satisfied. I had the drivers head straight to the bunker. Fortunately, I used the same excuse, so these people didn’t say much. Seeing all these goods delivered, my heart gradually calmed down. Looking at the tightly closed door, I thought about installing some cameras outside as well, in case of any unexpected situations. Said and done, after categorizing all the items, I lay down on the bed and could finally breathe easy. Taking advantage of the current electricity and internet, I bought memberships for all video platforms and downloaded my favorite TV shows and movies I hadn’t seen onto the computers, tablets, and USB drives. Just as I was about to fall asleep, my phone suddenly rang. I looked at the caller ID – it was Vanessa’s number. I answered the phone expressionlessly. Contemptuous laughter came from the other end, as if showing off to someone: “See? I told you she wouldn’t dare not to answer.” I remained silent. The voice on the other end became more unrestrained: “Aria, did you forget the message I sent you the other day? Did you forget how much it hurt when you got beaten up?” I listened quietly, my hand tightly clenched into a fist, but my reason was still telling me that now wasn’t the time. When they were truly desperate, that would be the best moment to strike them down. Seeing that I didn’t speak, Vanessa became somewhat angry and frustrated: “Have you forgotten that I still have leverage over you? Bitch!” Hearing this, I couldn’t hold back anymore and retaliated: “Vanessa, have you forgotten that you’re already 18? If I report what you’ve done to the police, you’ll face criminal charges.” My voice was firm and strong.

Vanessa had repeated a year. She should have been a senior by now, but due to poor grades, she was forced to stay back. Also because of face issues, she took a year off, so she was still in the same freshman class as us. Hearing what I said, Vanessa stammered a bit, but to maintain her image, she still shouted back loudly: “Bitch, who do you think you’re talking to? Do you believe I’ll post your photos in the class group right now?” “Go ahead. Worst case, we’ll meet at the police station,” I said and hung up the phone. She wouldn’t dare post them. Such a person who only bullies others would be very afraid of facing any threat herself. I was confident she would be more afraid, so I was certain she wouldn’t post anything. Vanessa had photos of me. They called me to the bathroom, beat me repeatedly, then tore open my clothes and took pictures of me at my most vulnerable. At that time, I didn’t dare resist, silently enduring their torment, just because I had no family left. Now with zombies about to come, I wasn’t afraid of anything anymore. Thinking of myself back then, tears still fell. The two puppies seemed to sense something and came over to gently lick my face. Perhaps with the company of these two little ones, I quickly fell asleep. When I woke up, it was time for my final round of shopping. Still at that farmers’ market, I directly bought a whole cow, two pigs, 30 chickens, 20 ducks, and various frozen fish, shrimp, and frozen foods. After the merchants delivered everything, I looked at the two extra-large freezers now filled to capacity, feeling increasingly satisfied. The next few days were just waiting.

On the second day of holing up in the bunker, there were 5 days left until the zombie outbreak. My homeroom teacher called me. I hesitated for a moment but chose to answer the call. The homeroom teacher spoke cautiously on the other end: “Aria, are you feeling any better?” I knew she was afraid my emotions hadn’t settled down yet. I rubbed my nose and replied: “Teacher, I’m much better now. But I’d like to take another week off. I’ll study at home on my own.” Hearing that I would study at home, the teacher quickly stopped me: “No, no. Aria, what I care about is your mood, not your grades. Isn’t it better to start studying again after you’ve sorted out your emotions?” Hearing her caring words, my nose tingled. Since my dad passed away, no one had cared about my feelings like this. Relatives at home only feared I would become their burden, keeping their distance from me. With a slightly nasal voice, I said to the teacher: “Okay, teacher. I’ll adjust my emotions well.” The voice on the other end sighed in relief, gently saying: “Then you just rest well at home. If there’s anything, you can talk to me. I’ll hang up now.” “Teacher, wait!” I quickly called out. “What’s wrong?” I stammered a bit: “Teacher, the pandemic is recurring quite frequently lately. It’s best to stock up on some food at home.” The teacher chuckled lightly: “Alright, teacher understands.” After hanging up with her, I looked at the remaining cameras from last time’s installation. Even though the large door I built now was sturdy enough, I was still worried about the worst-case scenario, so I chose to install them at the entrance, to monitor the situation outside at all times. Said and done, I carried the two cameras out the door, with the two puppies trotting behind me. After installation, I checked my inventory of supplies again. Then I discovered the biggest problem – I hadn’t bought water! Heaven knows how devastated I felt at that moment. Looking at this open area, I wondered if I could dig a well. I immediately called the renovation foreman from before and asked about the situation. The foreman’s answer was that it was possible, and it would only take one day. With the zombie outbreak countdown approaching, I directly offered a high price for the foreman to come over immediately. Three hours later, the renovation foreman arrived with his tools, smiling at me and saying: “This tool works very fast, but the noise is quite loud.” I quickly told him: “It’s fine, foreman. Just do it. I’m in a hurry now, so it doesn’t matter if it’s noisy.” After hearing this, the foreman immediately got to work, and I watched from the side. I have to say, sometimes these tools are not only attractive to boys but also to girls. The two puppies, hearing the loud noise, quickly ran into the house, trembling. At 11:30 PM, water appeared in the well. I smiled happily. The foreman thoughtfully cut stones to surround it and set it up for me. I gave the foreman some extra money, but he waved his hand with a smile and left directly. After the foreman left, I began living a free and easy life in this bunker. Today I eat steak, tomorrow I eat lamb leg, feeling quite comfortable. Watching time pass bit by bit, I also gradually began to feel scared. Even though I had already experienced the zombie massacre in my previous life, I was still very afraid.

he day before the zombie outbreak, a video titled “Real-life Train to Busan” suddenly went viral. But it existed for less than a minute before being taken down. I knew this was the government’s method to stabilize public sentiment. My hand also began to shake uncontrollably, my whole body feeling cold. Seeing that something was wrong with me, the two puppies came over and kept nuzzling my hand with their heads. Feeling their warmth, I started to calm down. I opened the cameras I had placed in the safe room and checked if anyone was there now, but I saw a disgusting scene. During the evening self-study period, Vanessa and a senior boy walked into the auditorium. I knew this boy. In my previous life, he was the one who pushed me out with his own hands. I would recognize that face even if it turned to ashes. But I remembered this boy, Luke, had a girlfriend. His girlfriend even knew Vanessa. They were originally classmates in the same grade, but because Vanessa was held back, she ended up two years behind them. As soon as the two entered the auditorium, they embraced and entangled with each other. Luke pinned Vanessa against the door. This position happened to be right where I had installed one of the cameras. The two’s movements gradually quickened, and some unseemly sounds came from the screen. I nearly threw up. I always knew Vanessa was a disgusting person, but I really hadn’t imagined they would do such revolting things at school. Holding back my nausea, I made a video of them doing their dirty deeds, then listened to their conversation. Vanessa, panting, said, “Have… have you… told that… that bitch… clearly yet?” Luke, with a greedy and urgent tone, replied: “Her family has money. It’s useful to keep her around.” The two continued their sordid act, their voices rising and falling until they finally stopped. Vanessa lay in Luke’s arms, saying with lingering desire: “That’s good. I thought you had developed real feelings for her.” Luke kissed her once, looking displeased: “How is that possible? Her figure isn’t as good as yours, and she’s so prissy. It’s only because she has money, otherwise who would care about her?” Their whispered words made me feel sick to my stomach. Fighting the strong physical discomfort, I edited their video. To destroy a person, it’s not enough to just let them die. Death would be too easy for her. 12 hours until the zombie outbreak, I sat on the soft bed, watching the news outside. 10 hours until the zombie outbreak, zombies hiding in corners of the neighboring city began to emerge one by one, but there was still no movement in our city. 8 hours until the zombie outbreak, a video was sent to the phones of every student and teacher at the school, posted on each student’s phone, except for Vanessa and Luke, and their friends. 6 hours until the zombie outbreak, Vanessa arrived at school. Classmates looked at her with disgust, thinking that people had been pointing and whispering about her all the way to school. 5 hours until the zombie outbreak, Vanessa lost her temper in class, “Who the fuck filmed this!” Her phone received a text message that read: Vanessa, are you happy? 4 hours until the zombie outbreak, the dean of students burst open the classroom door. “Who is Vanessa? Come to the office with me! Bring your parents too!” 3 hours until the zombie outbreak, in the auditorium, Vanessa found Luke, her voice filled with panic: “Luke, what should we do?” Luke yelled at her, his face full of disgust: “What are you doing here? Don’t you think things are bad enough already?” Seeing Luke treat her like this, the panic on Vanessa’s face turned to ferocity, “Luke! You bastard! You enjoyed it when we were having sex, and now you’re disgusted with me?” Their argument grew louder. Luke’s girlfriend also walked over, her eyes filled with mockery, “I wondered who it could be. So it was you?” Her words weren’t strongly aggressive, but they were full of humiliation. Vanessa’s face alternated between white and red. 1 hour until the zombie outbreak, a man wearing hiking clothes appeared on the street in the city center. He walked unsteadily, slowly approaching the nearest person.

At first, no one noticed him. Until… he walked towards a girl listening to music and waiting for the bus at the bus stop, and bit into her neck. People saw his appearance. His eyes no longer had normal pupils, only whites with a slight blue tinge. The veins on his skin were prominently visible. He let out a scream among the crowd, his teeth shaped like a chainsaw. People screamed and scattered in all directions. He tore into the girl, swallowing her flesh bite by bite. Many people had already fled, but there were always some who weren’t afraid of death, taking out their phones to film. Perhaps having just received nourishment for his body, his movements began to become rapid. He ran to the person filming and directly bit into their head. The girl he had just eaten was now exposed to the bone, the flesh on her body rotting. But she actually began to move and crawl up. Time of the zombie outbreak. I sat in my safe house, watching different people’s perspectives on my phone.

Meanwhile, at the school, a scream broke the silence, also interrupting Vanessa and Luke’s argument. People who had fallen down on the playground stood up again one by one. They moved slowly but with consistent steps, walking towards the teaching building where many people were gathered. I turned on the cameras installed in the hall. The school acted quickly, already transferring some people to the safe room. Of course, among them were Vanessa and her minions, as well as Luke. I looked at the faces in the camera, the same as in my previous life, with one new face I hadn’t seen before. But I recognized that person, a classmate who had been bullied by Vanessa just like me. Goosebumps instantly covered my body. So my rebirth hadn’t changed anything. When I left, someone else took my place to suffer the same fate. Just like in my previous life, the school gave them the only food available and told them to wait for rescue in the auditorium. I couldn’t bear to watch some teachers, desperate to see their families one last time, rush out no matter what, deciding to do something more meaningful with the police. I switched the video feed to the scene outside the door. In my previous life, I had been sent to the safe room from the start, so I didn’t know what the outside scene looked like. The scene outside now looked horrifying. People on the streets had all turned into zombies, scattered here and there. Some gathered together, gnawing on a corpse, then separated, with the corpse joining the zombie group. Even though I was in a safe place, watching such scenes made my palms and back drenched in cold sweat. I couldn’t imagine what would have happened if I had only thought this was a dream. Would I have suffered the same fate as in my previous life?

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On Valentine’s Day, my boyfriend gave a genuine YSL gift set to a rich girl, but ordered a fake one online for me. When I exposed him, he yelled, “You expect me to buy you stuff from the flagship store? Look at yourself, do you even deserve that?!” Little did he know, I usually wear custom Christian Louboutin shoes with real diamonds. One pair costs more than a hundred of his gift boxes. During a women’s basketball game organized by the student union, I accidentally elbowed Mandy while fighting for the ball. Collisions are common in games, so I didn’t think much of it. But she shouted, “Stop! Hannah, you broke my watch!” It’s just a watch, why make such a fuss? The game was at its climax, and our team was about to win. I didn’t want to stop. “I’m sorry, I’ll compensate you. Can we talk about this later and finish the game first?” Mandy, being unsportsmanlike, snatched the ball from my hands and threw it out of bounds. The game was forced to stop. I was quite unhappy about it. She held her head high, “Hannah, this is a Cartier.” I glanced at it. I’m not really interested in watches and rarely wear them. I only knew it was a Cartier, but didn’t know which series or how much it cost. It didn’t look like an antique watch, so probably just a few hundred thousand dollars. Repairing the watch face shouldn’t cost much. Her getting so worked up seemed unnecessary. Everyone gathered around. “Oh no, Mandy, what should we do?” “The watch face is completely shattered. God, it hurts just to look at it!” Seeing everyone’s concerned faces, I asked, “What? Is this watch very expensive?” Someone who knew about watches said, “Of course! It’s a Ballon Bleu!” Mandy thrust her wrist in front of me, “Over forty thousand!” Everyone gasped. It was quite different from the hundreds of thousands I had imagined. For this price range, repairing the watch face should cost at most ten thousand or so. She looked impatient, “I need to send this watch to the boutique, and they’ll have to send it to Switzerland for repair. It’ll take at least a month back and forth!” How troublesome. I said, “How about I buy you a new one?” I wondered if she would like a Vacheron Constantin. The watches my parents gave me all start at a hundred thousand, but I don’t like wearing watches, so they’re just stored at home. Might as well use this opportunity to give it away. “A new one?” Mandy looked at me with contempt, “This isn’t some fake! My dad brought it back from Switzerland for me!” I wasn’t planning to give her a fake one anyway. What’s wrong with this person? I had heard that her family had some money, and she would carry LV and Chanel bags every day, often treating classmates to bubble tea. But my family isn’t bad either. The new building at school was donated by my dad. I asked her, “Then what do you want to do?” My boyfriend had just gone to buy me water and came back at this moment. After understanding the situation, he looked at me reproachfully, “Why weren’t you more careful?!” How was I supposed to know someone would wear a watch while playing basketball? Wouldn’t it be uncomfortable on the wrist? Wouldn’t it affect performance? “Hannah, look at this, can you afford to compensate?!” William had never spoken to me so harshly before. He carefully cradled Mandy’s wrist as if it were the most precious thing in the world. It’s just a broken watch, for goodness sake. My elbow still hurts. “Alright Mandy, tell me how to handle this. How much compensation do you want?” She still looked distressed, “It needs to be sent to the store first before we can discuss it.” Fine. “Then show me the receipt when you get it, and I’ll transfer the money to you.” This seemed like a reasonable solution. With all this commotion, I didn’t feel like playing anymore. No one else was in the mood to continue the game either, they were all busy gossiping. “Damn, how can Hannah be so calm? This must cost at least a few thousand. It would take months of not eating or drinking to pay it back.” “She probably has no idea how much it costs to replace the watch face! She thinks it’s just putting in a piece of glass.” I keep a low profile at school and have never shown off my wealth. The clothes I wear and things I use in the dorm are modest, though expensive. They don’t have big logos, so most people can’t tell they’re luxury items. In this situation, I couldn’t exactly show them my bank balance and shout “I’m rich!” Forget it, I couldn’t be bothered to deal with them. I grabbed my things and left the basketball court.

William caught up with me and put his arm around my shoulder, “Hannah, are you angry?” It would be a lie to say I wasn’t upset. He didn’t consider my feelings at all. “Don’t be angry. I did that for your own good. Didn’t you see me winking at you?” I really didn’t notice. “I said those things to you to shut Mandy up. Once I criticized you, she wouldn’t dare say anything more.” Is that how it works? Why do I feel something’s off? “Besides, I kept emphasizing that you couldn’t afford it. I thought Mandy would back off, but I didn’t expect you to be so stupid! You immediately agreed to compensate her without understanding my intention!” I just thought it wasn’t much money. Our housekeeper spends more than that on groceries every day. There was no need to stand there and argue about it. “Hannah, let me pay half for you.” I waved my hand, “No need.” “We’re a couple. When we get married in the future, it’ll be our shared property anyway. Half and half, that’s fair.” He held my hand, his smile very sweet. So he’s been so calculative because he’s been planning our future all along. That’s nice. I leaned on his shoulder, “Do we have any plans for tomorrow?” Tomorrow is Valentine’s Day. My family doesn’t know about my relationship. And my brother said he wanted to hang out with me tomorrow, two single dogs keeping each other company. He sighed, “Hannah, I have to tutor students tomorrow.” Ah, I was originally thinking of having him meet my brother. I felt a bit disappointed. But his eyes were determined, “This is all for our future.” William has always been very hardworking. As his girlfriend, I should support him. “Okay then…”

Early on Valentine’s Day morning, William asked me to come downstairs. He was holding a bouquet of red roses and a pretty gift bag. As soon as I came down, he gave me a big hug. “Baby, Happy Valentine’s Day. Although I can’t accompany you, we must still have our ritual!” I thought I wouldn’t even see him today. I didn’t expect him to have prepared gifts for me. After chatting for a few minutes, he left. I happily went back upstairs. Only when I got back to the dorm did I open the gift. It was a YSL gift set. My roommates exclaimed, “Wow! Hannah! Your boyfriend is so good to you!” “This must have cost quite a bit. No wonder your boyfriend has been so busy lately. Turns out he was working hard to buy you a gift.” He had given me what he thought was the best. I was very satisfied. Wendy looked at the gift box but didn’t say anything. She’s a makeup blogger on a certain platform, with a keen eye. Seeing her silence, the other two roommates, afraid of saying the wrong thing, also kept quiet. I asked, “Wendy, is there a problem?” She picked up the lipstick and looked at it, seeming a bit troubled, “I can’t be sure at the moment. I’ll ask my friend to take a look.” My heart sank. I had never encountered fake goods before and hadn’t paid attention to the differences between real and fake. But since Wendy said this, it was probably fake. She was just being polite and said she’d ask a friend to look at it. My roommates comforted me, “Oh Hannah, maybe William doesn’t know about these things and was tricked.” “Yeah, how would guys know what’s real and what’s fake?” That made sense. I sent William a message, [Where did you buy this gift set?] He replied after a few minutes, [At the boutique.] He even sent me a screenshot. It was a purchase record from the boutique. Can you buy fakes from the boutique too? Or did Wendy really make a mistake? William: [What’s wrong, baby? Don’t you like it?] Me: [It’s nothing, I love it.] William: [I’m glad you like it. I have to go tutor students now, let’s talk later.] My brother took me to an amusement park, but I was distracted the whole time. Until Wendy sent me a message, [It’s fake.] She sent me several pictures showing the differences between genuine and fake products. [William most likely bought it online.] She sent me a link to a YSL gift set priced at just over a hundred dollars. The details in the buyer’s photos matched exactly with what I had. [Hannah, if he tells the truth, he might not know and thought YSL was this cheap. But if he’s lying to you, you should dump a guy like that.] I didn’t know what to say for a moment. I asked her, [Can you buy fakes from the boutique?] [Let me put it this way, this set is obviously fake at first glance. Even if boutiques sell fakes, they would only fake the quality, which is harder to detect.] But William did buy a gift set from the boutique. I sent the screenshot to Wendy. She replied, [What if the gift set from the boutique wasn’t meant for you?] She had a point. What if William bought two sets, one online and one from the boutique, giving one to me and one to someone else? That would make sense. But how could that be possible? How could William do such a despicable thing? We’ve been dating for over a year, and our relationship has always been good. He definitely wouldn’t do this to me. Just as I was thinking this, I saw a familiar figure in the crowd. It looked like William. Wasn’t he supposed to be tutoring students? Why would he be here?

I was about to go after him when my brother came back with ice cream. Seeing my hurried expression, he asked, “What’s wrong?” “I think I saw a friend.” In the blink of an eye, that figure disappeared into the crowd. I licked my ice cream and sent William a message, [Where are you?] He replied half an hour later, [Tutoring students.] As if to prove something, he sent a picture of a child writing at a desk. [What’s wrong, baby? Do you miss me? I’ll come find you after I finish teaching, okay?] Once the seed of doubt is planted, it easily takes root and grows. I suddenly wanted to video call him. But with my brother beside me, I had to give up on that idea. After rejecting the Nth girl asking for his contact information, my brother finally had time to pay attention to me, “Hannah, you don’t seem very happy.” “Mm.” “Is it because you didn’t receive a Valentine’s Day gift?” I shook my head. My brother didn’t care what I was thinking about. He snapped his fingers. Then, out of nowhere, a group of flamboyantly dressed “princes” appeared, surrounding me. “Take your pick. Which ones do you like best? Big brother will let them keep you company.” My brother always does such unreliable things. With more than ten of them, how could I handle it? “Oh, brother, I…” My brother’s jaw dropped, “What?! You want all of them?” When did I say such a thing? He waved his hand, “Fine, only kids make choices. We’ll take them all.” I was a bit speechless. “Never mind, brother. Let’s go eat.” The princes were all very handsome, but mainly, I have a boyfriend. It wouldn’t be right to do this. But soon, I didn’t think that way anymore. Not long after getting in the car, Wendy sent me another message. [Hannah, aren’t you with William today?] [He’s busy tutoring students. I’m out with my brother.] But she sent me a photo. It was William and Mandy grabbing dolls from a claw machine. The location was the amusement park where I was. This amusement park isn’t cheap. Other places charge one dollar per coin, but here it’s ten dollars. It costs twenty dollars for one try at the claw machine. Mandy was already holding several dolls. With William’s skills, he probably couldn’t get one even after ten tries. He buys me a hundred-dollar fake gift set online and tries to fool me with a boutique purchase record, but he spends hundreds or thousands at an amusement park grabbing dolls for Mandy! Wendy asked me, [Hannah, do you want to come over now? I can keep an eye on him for you.] [No need, Wendy. Go have fun with your boyfriend. I’ll handle this myself.] I couldn’t take it anymore and called William directly. One, two, three… It wasn’t until the fifth call that he picked up! “Hannah, what are you doing? I’m teaching! The parent is right here!” I took a deep breath, trying to control my emotions, “Let’s video call.” “I’m really busy here, and I’m tired from teaching all day. Can you not be unreasonable?” His tone was very impatient. This time he didn’t even bother to make up a lie. “Am I being unreasonable, or are you feeling guilty?” He angrily retorted, “Hannah, what do you mean by that? I’ve been working hard for our future, and now you doubt me?” Always saying it’s for our future! But my future doesn’t involve him sucking up to rich girls! I hung up the phone, sent him the link and photo, and left a message [Let’s break up]. Then I blocked and deleted all his contact information. When did he start being with Mandy? That genuine YSL gift set must have been for Mandy too. A rich girl like Mandy, so proud, claiming she never buys second-hand goods, hating vintage and antiques. But does someone like that also like stealing other people’s boyfriends?

After dinner, my brother drove me back to school. After walking a few steps, I received a bank notification. It was my brother transferring me five hundred thousand dollars. [Hannah, big brother sent you some pocket money. Spending money will make you happier~] The smile on my face hadn’t even formed when I heard a shout from behind, “Hannah! I never thought you were this kind of gold digger!” It was William. Seeing him made me lose my good mood. I just wanted to walk away quickly. But he wouldn’t let go, grabbing my arm, “I saw you get out of that Maybach! Who did you go out with today?!” The thief crying “Stop thief”? Fine, let’s sort this out. “You didn’t tutor students at all today!” He took a deep breath, “Yes, I went out with Mandy. I thought if I made her happy, she might not pursue the watch issue.” He could come up with such a ridiculous excuse. Why go out on Valentine’s Day of all days? Doesn’t he know what Valentine’s Day means? Does he really think I’m an idiot? He softened his voice, “Hannah, I did it for you.” I sneered, “What does it have to do with me? Did I force you to pay her back? Did I force you to go to the amusement park with her? Did I force you to grab dolls for her?” My sudden outburst left him speechless. “William, next time you want to shift blame, can you find a better excuse?” I stepped back, distancing myself from him. But he came closer again, holding my hand, looking at me affectionately. “Hannah, I do like you.” I felt a bit sick. “This was really unavoidable. You know I’m about to graduate and enter society. I just wanted to find a good internship.” “Mandy’s family owns a company, so I thought maybe she could…” I understood everything now. “Hannah, love without material foundation is like a pile of loose sand, scattered even without wind blowing. I just wanted to give you a better life.” I laughed angrily. “William, stop deceiving yourself. It’s you who wanted to take shortcuts. Using ‘giving me a better life’ as an excuse is just to cover up your guilt and despicable behavior.” “We’re done. I can’t accept the fake gift you bought me. I’ll return it to you tomorrow.” My parents have always given me the best since I was little. I can’t mistreat myself like this. That stuff would probably make my lips rot if I used it. “I sent you the purchase record! Who says it’s fake bought online? It’s your roommate, right? She’s just jealous!” He suddenly raised his voice, glaring at me, very different from his usual gentle demeanor. There’s a saying, the louder the voice, the weaker the position. He was just counting on me not knowing much about brands, thinking I’d be easy to fool. Laughable. What is there for Wendy to be jealous of over something worth just over a thousand dollars? She usually gets so many gifts from brands that her hands are full. What would she be jealous of? “You gave the boutique gift set to Mandy, right? Buying fakes and using the boutique purchase record to fool me, I can’t believe you came up with that.” One genuine gift set to please two people, how ‘economical’. William panicked, “There’s no taking back a gift once it’s given!” I didn’t care, “Oh, then I’ll throw it in the trash.” “You transfer the money to me! One hundred and thirty-eight!” What a cheapskate! How dare he say such a thing! It’s just a hundred dollars. Usually, I wouldn’t even bother arguing with someone over this amount. But I can’t swallow this anger! “I’ll have my roommate return it to you tomorrow. Don’t even think about me transferring money to you.” He pointed at my nose and yelled, his spit flying onto my face. “Hannah, you really are a gold digger! Stingy and poor!” “You still expect me to buy you things from the boutique? Look at yourself, do you even deserve it?!” So he’s not short on money, he just thinks I only deserve a gift worth one hundred and thirty-eight dollars? I looked down at myself. A custom-made bag worth over three hundred thousand, shoes worth eighty to ninety thousand… All together, probably worth about a house in a second-tier city. How do I not deserve it? “You’re not even fit to tie Mandy’s shoelaces!” My eyes started to heat up. I never imagined that in his eyes, I was just a cheap commodity, not worth half of Mandy. If I continued arguing with him, I would only end up in tears. I turned and walked away. He was still ranting behind me. “Hannah! No one will ever treat you better than me! They’re all just playing with you! Do you think anyone would truly like you?!” “Don’t expect me to beg you to get back together this time! Mandy has already agreed to be with me! You’ll regret losing me!” “So what if you rode in a Maybach? I’m just waiting for you to be abandoned!” I quickened my pace. He might not be embarrassed, but I was.

When love disappoints, I go on a shopping spree. My brother really understands women. Spending money does make you happier. After returning to the dorm, I even bought gifts for my roommates. Wendy gasped, holding Dior’s new bag lovingly, “Babe, where did you strike it rich?” I smiled without saying anything. Mainly because Wendy is too righteous. After hearing about how I was scammed by that scumbag, she recorded a video about this outrageous incident and shared it with her followers. She didn’t name names and omitted many details. But her followers know she’s a student at Yale University. So now everyone is guessing who this extreme cheapskate two-timing guy at Yale is. Some people even came to Yale’s forum to ask questions. Anyway, William will have to lay low for a while. Otherwise, his true face might be exposed at any moment. … On Friday afternoon, I went to attend the student union meeting. Before I even entered the door, I heard people gossiping inside. “…She doesn’t know how she got rich. Buying those bags to give away. I heard her ex-boyfriend William reveal that she was actually two-timing, stringing along a rich guy while not wanting to let go of her ex who was a potential stock.” Where did these trolls come from? Completely turning black into white. “There are detailed revelations in this post, everyone come and see!” “Damn, I pursued her at that time. Good thing I didn’t succeed, otherwise my head would be full of green.” “I also heard that last time when Zack dropped into their department group chat, it was Hannah who pulled him in. I was wondering how they knew each other, turns out it’s this kind of relationship.” These words really sound like something William would say. Comparing himself to a potential stock, how shameless. “Even if the rich guy sent her bags, she wouldn’t give them away so openly. I feel like they might be fakes…” “Yeah, last time on the basketball court she also said she would compensate Mandy with a new watch. My goodness, that’s a Cartier, not some ten-dollar store trinket!” I was listening intently at the wall when suddenly someone patted my shoulder. Just as I was about to cry out, that person covered my mouth. I turned my head to see it was Sean, the student union president. He signaled me not to make a sound, and after releasing me, stood by the door to eavesdrop with me. ? Isn’t this guy usually cold and aloof, meticulous in everything? How come he’s doing this kind of thing with me? Those people inside kept saying the same things over and over, and I soon found it boring. Sean leaned close to my ear, “Had enough?” I nodded. He gestured for me to move aside, then pushed open the door and strode in. The discussions abruptly stopped. I waited for a while, then followed him in. Those few people from Mandy’s department looked me up and down. I casually put down my newly bought Hermès bag, coincidentally right next to Mandy’s LV. The difference was obvious. It wasn’t about showing off, but rather to dampen Mandy’s arrogance. She soon became restless. “Hannah, can I take a look at your bag?” “Sure.” She turned the bag over and over, examining it closely, almost as if she had a magnifying glass in her hand. After looking, she asked: “Where did you buy this? The details look quite authentic.” Her words implied that my bag was fake.

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My roommate claimed her boyfriend was a young master living in a luxurious coastal community. She also said, “My boyfriend’s only worry is that he can’t keep up with his parents’ pace.” Huh? We live in the same apartment complex. But why have I never seen this boyfriend she keeps talking about? Recently, the luxurious coastal community suddenly became a hot topic online. I was puzzled when I heard my roommate bragging about it in our dorm room. Although the houses there are expensive, not many people even know it exists. So… my roommate is dating a guy who lives in that community? Everyone has a bit of gossip in them. I listened eagerly from my bed as my roommate recounted how she met her boyfriend, how it was love at first sight, and how they fell head over heels for each other. Oh! How cliché! But I love it! “Lily, you said your boyfriend is from a rich family. What does he look like? Can we see a picture?” one of our roommates asked. Lily giggled shyly and pulled up a photo of her boyfriend on her phone, turning the screen towards us. I was a bit far away and couldn’t see clearly, but the outline of this person looked quite unfamiliar. I felt like I had never seen him before. My other two roommates saw the photo and couldn’t help but exclaim. “Wow! He’s so handsome!” “Does he really live in that coastal community? He’s really one of those rich and handsome young masters! Lily, you’re so lucky!” Under the adoration of our two roommates, Lily seemed to be floating on cloud nine. “I guess I got lucky. We met at a club activity last time… maybe it’s fate!” Club activity? I caught this key phrase and hesitated for a moment before asking her. “You mean… the club activity we went to together last time?” Lily finally turned to look at me, but her attitude was quite arrogant. “Yeah, what about it? Are you jealous?” Me: “?” What am I supposed to be jealous of? Jealous that her boyfriend lied to her about being from a rich family? When will this girl ever wise up? If the outline in the photo had left me uncertain before, now I could be sure. Lily’s boyfriend was a liar. At the last club activity, I went with Lily. I didn’t see any familiar faces at the event venue. Others might not know, but all the people around our age living in the coastal community know each other. We might not be very close, but we all recognize each other’s faces and greet each other when we meet. So, I couldn’t have been mistaken. Lily proudly glanced at me, and seeing me deep in thought, she became even more convinced that I was jealous of her. “My boyfriend, he doesn’t care about our class difference at all. His only worry now is that he can’t keep up with his parents’ pace.” “He also said that when he takes over the family company, he’ll make me the boss’s wife. I can spend the company’s money however I want!” I came back to my senses and heard these words. I couldn’t help but look at her. Oh, this… Does this person have any common sense? Actually, companies don’t have that much liquid cash, and every bit of movable funds is accounted for meticulously. Using company money like that… it would be considered embezzlement. I couldn’t help but suspect that Lily’s boyfriend had read too many novels and had been brainwashed.

Just as my thoughts drifted, Lily spoke up. Before speaking, she cast a disdainful glance at me. Seeing me lost in thought, it was as if she was saying, “Can’t imagine it, can you? Jealous, aren’t you?” “This weekend is my boyfriend’s birthday, and he wants to invite everyone out for dinner. Are you all free?” As Lily spoke, she brushed her hair back with her hand, revealing a shiny silver bracelet on her wrist. “Wow! Lily, your bracelet is so beautiful! When did you buy it?” one roommate exclaimed. “It must be from her boyfriend. Lily’s boyfriend is so rich, this looks expensive!” another chimed in. Lily pursed her lips and smiled shyly. “It’s not that much. My boyfriend gave it to me for Christmas. It only cost about $5,000.” Another round of exclamations followed. Only I swallowed hard. With that quality… $50 tops. I’m not looking down on anyone, but my mom loves researching these things with her friends when she’s bored. She knows all about which brand just released a new limited edition globally, which style is the same as Princess Diana’s. She can recite it all. I’ve been influenced by her. “Your boyfriend is really rich!” “And I heard that restaurant costs over $200 per person. With six people in our dorm, that’s over a thousand dollars for one night!” The roommates got more and more excited, some even canceling their dates on SnapChat just to see what this so-called rich young master looked like. Me: “…” We’re all just people, there’s really not that much difference. Although my brother is quite good-looking, from middle school to college, he’s always bragging about being chased by a bunch of girls. Last semester, he was almost scouted by a well-known entertainment company. Seeing me cough lightly, Lily immediately looked at me vigilantly. “Claire, what do you mean?” I was stunned for a moment. What do I mean? That restaurant is right next to my house. Back in high school, they delivered breakfast to us every day. Can I say I’m sick of it? Her eyes started to look a bit sarcastic. “My boyfriend is so sincere in inviting everyone. You’ll come that day, right?” I immediately nodded. Why wouldn’t I come? I want to see who from the community it is. But this girl, she actually snorted again. She probably thought I was excited to see her “young master”.

On Saturday morning, a flashy yellow Ferrari stopped at the school gate. Lily excitedly waved in that direction. Facing the wind, she turned back, tucked her hair behind her ear, and smiled shyly at us, “Sorry, he’s late.” I narrowed my eyes and looked at the license plate. Why did it look so familiar? But I didn’t think much of it. Rich people often like these kinds of lucky number sequences, more or less the same. The man in the car looked about the same age as my brother. He took off his sunglasses and greeted us. Our eyes met. He was good-looking, but indeed unfamiliar. Seeing her boyfriend’s gaze fall on me and our brief eye contact, Lily immediately blocked me. With a fake smile: “I’m sorry, Claire. His Ferrari can only seat four people. So you and Rachel will have to take a cab.” Her voice was sweet and seemingly full of apology. After speaking, she turned back and smiled tenderly at the man in the car. The man flipped his sunglasses coolly. Me: “…” “Wow, your boyfriend is so handsome!” “His clothes look so expensive!” The roommates who were close to her started praising again. Rachel and I got into the car I called. Seeing the luxurious interior, Rachel looked around in surprise: “Claire, this kind of car must be expensive, right? Send me the bill later, I’ll split it with you.” I smiled and said, “It’s okay, I happen to have a coupon. This ride is free.” I knew Rachel’s family situation was not good. She only had her 70-year-old grandmother at home. She often worked part-time jobs after class and sent money home for living expenses. Because of this, Lily and her little dorm clique often looked down on her. But I thought a hardworking and ambitious girl like her was much more admirable than some people. Rachel gave me a grateful smile. I didn’t tell her that this car actually belonged to my dad. And it was worth eight figures. And it was just one of countless cars my family owned. The gap between people can sometimes be as big as the sky. I was just born a little luckier. So, I never thought it was something to be proud of. The car stopped in front of the restaurant. Lily and the other roommates were standing outside. When they saw us get out of the Rolls-Royce, they were stunned for a moment. Then Lily smirked sarcastically: “Claire, it’s just a ride, you don’t need to try so hard.” “Putting on airs, but you’re spending your own money.” Her words were really stinging now, probably because she had been flattered too much on the way here and had lost her bearings. If it weren’t for her roommates holding her back, she might have floated up to the sky. I couldn’t be bothered to argue with her. She was about to speak again when her boyfriend walked out from inside. His gaze fell on me for a moment before he invited us in. Although it was very quiet, I still heard her boyfriend ask behind us. “What does your roommate’s family do? That outfit she’s wearing might cost $10,000.” “What?!” After entering, Lily’s look at me changed. But soon, she showed a look of disdain again. That look seemed to say, this must be a knockoff, how could someone like her wear such nice clothes? While ordering, Lily kept turning her head and asking her boyfriend various questions in a sweet voice. “Xavier, didn’t you say your family has a villa in France? And your sister is studying in France, right? My roommates are all curious about life in France, why don’t you tell everyone about it?” Her boyfriend, oh, called Xavier Quinn, was clearly pleased with her admiring gaze and started talking confidently. I have to say, what he described was pretty much how it is. My brother and I do go to France for vacation every summer. Because of this, I couldn’t help but wonder if he had just moved in, which was why I didn’t recognize him. Halfway through his story, Lily suddenly and inexplicably started to bring me into the conversation. “Claire, didn’t you say your cousin also graduated from a university in France?” “Why don’t you tell us about it?”

I was speechless. Please, it was my cousin who studied in France, not me. What am I supposed to say?? Lily’s expression, however, clearly showed that she wanted to embarrass me, staring at me intently, demanding that I say something. It wasn’t until her boyfriend tugged at her and tried to smooth things over by saying, “The food is here, let’s eat!” that she stopped. After saying that, he lowered his voice and whispered in Lily’s ear: “Babe, don’t provoke her casually.” “…” Is a $10,000 outfit really worth that kind of conclusion? However, I was also happy to be at ease. I had originally planned to intervene myself, but now I was off the hook. Lily looked unconvinced, but had to settle down. Rachel comforted me: “Claire, don’t mind her. She’s always like this.” I nodded and smiled at her, indicating it was fine. “Alright, everyone eat up!” “Today is my treat, don’t be shy!” I have to say, these two looked quite like a married couple. One acting generous, the other full of admiration. I glanced at the dishes on the table. They were all things I was tired of eating, so I wasn’t very interested. During the meal, Xavier asked me a few questions. Although they were all pleasantries, they seemed casual, but every sentence was trying to find out about my family situation. When I went to the restroom, I heard a conversation from inside. “Xavier, what are you doing?! Are you interested in that little bitch Claire?” Lily’s voice was full of anger. Me: “??” It took me two seconds to resist the urge to go in and slap her twice, and I continued to listen to the male voice from inside. “Baby, don’t get excited.” “I saw that bracelet on her hand, it looks like a limited edition global release, similar to the one my good friend’s sister has. I wanted to confirm if it was the same.” “Didn’t you say her surname is also Johnson?” I looked down at my bracelet. Well, well, so you’re the one who gave me away. My mom had it brought back from France for my birthday last month. I don’t know how much it cost, I just wear it as an accessory. Lily just made a dissatisfied “hmm” sound. Then added: “But how could she possibly be your friend’s sister?!” “Someone like her?!” “…” The bathroom door opened, and I stepped aside. I didn’t plan to let them see me for now. I still wanted to settle accounts when I got home. I wondered when Jack had made such a fox-like friend. Just as I was thinking, Jack’s message came. “Sis, Mom and Dad want you to come home tonight.” “Did you forget what day it is today?” I stared at the message blankly for a long time. “You really forgot!!!” Even through the screen, I could feel my brother’s roar. “Today is your brother’s—my birthday!!!” Oh. I suddenly realized and replied. “Got it.” When I returned to the table, Lily’s boyfriend was talking confidently to the table full of girls. With a not-so-authentic accent: “You don’t know, but my family actually values girls more than boys. When my sister turned 18, my dad bought her an island in France!” “When I turned 18, he just gave me the car parked outside.” “Oh, you poor thing. Does that mean you won’t inherit as much of the family fortune as your sister?” one of the roommates worried for the young master. “That won’t happen…” he waved his hand, then looked up and saw me. Xavier paused for a moment, then put on a smile: “Claire’s back.” Me: “…” Are we that close? Lily pinched him hard from the side, and he frowned and withdrew his gaze. I walked back to my seat, bent down to pick up my bag, and a fleeting thought crossed my mind that his story sounded awfully familiar. An island for the sister’s 18th birthday, a Ferrari for the brother’s 18th birthday, isn’t that just me and my brother? But I guess rich families are all similar. “Claire, are you leaving?” Xavier stood up too. I nodded, and he eagerly said: “Let me drive you!”

In the end, under Lily’s murderous glare, Xavier still insisted on driving me home. “I couldn’t pick her up earlier, so I’ll send her back now.” He smiled, running his hand through his hair that was about to take flight. “I want to go too!” Lily jumped up. Then she looked at me with curved eyes and a smile. “I want to see where Claire lives too.” “Sure,” I said. I picked up my bag and smiled calmly. After leaving the restaurant, Xavier eagerly opened the passenger door and looked at me. I walked straight to the back seat. Lily’s fingers were almost digging into her palms. When closing the door, she wanted to slam it but didn’t dare use too much force. Just a small “bang”, and her boyfriend glared at her. Seeing Lily about to cry, he softened his tone. “Okay baby, I’m sorry…” He said this, but his eyes vigilantly checked the car door several times. Only after making sure it was okay did he breathe a sigh of relief. I sat in the back seat, looking like I was watching a good show between the two of them. Go ahead and slam it. Even if you really damage half the door of this car, it would only cost a few hundred thousand to fix. Lily was clearly still angry, but she didn’t forget to turn back and act nice to me, smiling and asking: “Claire, where do you want to go?” “The Coastal Villas.” “Are you okay??” “Claire, it’s nighttime now, what daydream are you having?” Lily looked at me in shock. I was almost amused by her expression. Is living in the Coastal Villas some kind of daydream? Seeing that I didn’t respond, her boyfriend pulled her hand and turned back, smiling at me in the rearview mirror. “Okay, let’s go to the Coastal Villas.” This “young master” must really be new to the area, he even needed to use GPS. My brother could get back there with his eyes closed. After getting out of the car, I calmly took out my phone and took a picture of the license plate. Lily snorted disdainfully. She wanted to assert her ownership again, so she leaned into the driver’s seat and hugged her boyfriend’s neck to kiss him. Me: “…” Xavier was stunned for a moment and pushed her away almost imperceptibly. Lily seemed to realize something and turned her face towards the car window to look at me: “Claire, didn’t you say your home is in the Coastal Villas? Why have you been standing at the entrance for so long without going in?” As soon as she finished speaking, the gate opened. “Young miss is back?” The security guard greeted me through the window with a kind smile. Lily’s face turned black, looking multi-colored under the car’s interior lights. This is getting interesting. “Xavier, should we go in too?” Lily squirmed a bit and turned her head coyly. Xavier was stunned again, but quickly came to his senses and smiled to reassure her: “I still need to drive your other roommates back to school.” “Xavier, you’re so thoughtful.”

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I woke up in the middle of the night to find that Frederick had posted a new photo on Instagram. In it, a woman was lounging seductively against his leg. After ten years of marriage, he had finally betrayed me! And with the girl I had been supporting, no less. Strangely, I felt… excited. For ten years, I had meticulously planned this moment, orchestrating the ultimate showdown between these two psychopaths. The real show was just beginning! My period cramps were killing me, and I had a fever on top of it. My whole body ached, making it impossible to sleep. “Frederick…” I called out, my forehead burning as I reached for him, hoping he’d bring me some warm water. Then I remembered he had a business dinner tonight. There was medicine in the nightstand. Groggy, I fumbled for a painkiller and swallowed it with water that had long since gone cold. The double dose of pain left me tossing and turning. I opened my phone, trying to distract myself. Frederick had posted a new photo on Instagram. The girl in it looked young and alluring, lounging languidly on his leg. His hand rested in her thick hair, the wedding ring I had personally designed still on his finger. From the looks of it, they’d had quite a bit to drink. Dizzy, I tried to scroll past, but accidentally hit the like button. My heart started racing. Almost instantly, I unliked the post. But within seconds, my phone rang. It was Frederick’s number. It was the girl who spoke, giggling with an unhinged edge to her voice: “Sister, Frederick’s legs are so long and strong. Are you satisfied with what you see?” My throat was dry and hoarse as I managed to say, “Where’s Frederick?” “You liked the post and then unliked it. What does that mean? Not satisfied?” Frederick’s voice came on the line. His tone was dangerous, dark and menacing. I steeled myself, mustering all my focus: “I accidentally hit it. Frederick, it’s eleven o’clock now. If you’re not home by eleven-thirty, don’t bother coming back at all.” I hung up immediately. But cold sweat broke out on my back. For a moment, the tension made me forget about the pain. So the girl could use his phone to talk to me now… She really did have some skills. I wonder if my reaction today will satisfy him?

The big teddy bear by the bed stared at me with its black button eyes, constantly watching my every move. Frederick got home in less than ten minutes. He made me some ginger tea and held me in his arms. “Honey, are you angry?” he asked. I nodded. “Who was that woman?” He’d played this game too many times. I was tired of it, but I still had to play along and act jealous. “Honey, don’t you love me anymore?” I pretended to be hurt, crying in his arms. As expected, it was exactly what he wanted. He held me tighter as I trembled, kissing my forehead. “How could I not? You’re the one I love most. She was just for work…” A chill ran down my spine, and my headache felt like it was about to split my skull open. His so-called “work” was actually hunting. I seemed to see flashes of severed limbs in the basement… Those women were all his “prey,” specifically hunted to make me jealous. Every time, he would post a photo on Instagram first. The girls in the photos would be taken to the basement that same night, tortured for days before being dismembered. He’d keep the parts he liked best, disposing of the rest in various ways. Today’s girl must already be locked in the basement by now. She can’t die. She’s the version of Frederick I’ve spent ten years cultivating.

Ten years ago, shortly after I discovered Frederick wasn’t normal, I spent a long time volunteering at an orphanage. One of the girls there, Skylar, caught my attention. I watched her emotionlessly wring the neck of a fluffy yellow duckling. “Why did you kill it?” I asked. She tossed the duckling into the pool, her face expressionless. “Because someone else touched it.” “My mom used to say, if someone takes something you like, you either break their hands and take it back, or… you destroy it. That way, no one else can have it.” She looked up at me with a smile. Young as she was, there was something wicked in that smile. “I can’t break people’s hands, so I had to destroy it. If I can’t have it, no one can.” In that moment, I knew she was the one I’d been looking for! I sponsored her education, bought her lots of cute dolls and pretty clothes. More often than not, I reinforced her ideas – that it was right to think “if I can’t have it, no one can.” She repaid me with broken dolls and shredded clothes. She would often say with a look of ecstasy, “Sister, I feel so satisfied and happy when I destroy them…” “The more beautiful something is that I can’t have all to myself, the more I want to tear it apart!” I looked at her calmly, but inside I was terrified – This little demon, watered by my influence, was gradually growing into a big demon… I wanted her to obsess over Frederick, to give myself a chance to escape.

I decided to rescue Skylar. The next evening at dinner, I secretly slipped some sleeping pills into Frederick’s orange juice. He drank it without suspicion, only asking, “Honey, are you feeling better?” I nodded, saying in a hoarse voice, “The fever’s gone down. I’m much better. Honey, no more business dinners from now on.” His face lit up with joy. He smiled as he cut up the still-bloody steak for me and pushed it over. “Honey, eat up.” I fought back the nausea rising in my throat and forked a piece from the edge into my mouth. “Ugh-” Frederick quickly came over to pat my back. “Honey, are you pregnant?!” he asked, incredibly excited. I shook my head, my voice raspy. “Just a reaction from being sick.” The light in his eyes instantly dimmed. He gave me an odd look. “We’ve been married for ten years. When are we going to have a child?” But then he brightened again. “No children is better. That way no one can steal my wife’s love…” After dinner, Frederick took a shower and went to bed early. I quietly opened the safe, took out the basement key, and snuck out of the bedroom. The basement was empty and eerie. The strong smell of formaldehyde mixed with the scent of blood made my head spin even more. A row of terrifying instruments and glass jars lined the walls. The jars contained Frederick’s “collection.” I didn’t dare turn on the lights for fear Frederick would discover me, so I searched using my phone’s flashlight. “Skylar?” I called out in a very low voice. There was a tall figure ahead that looked like someone chained to a cross. I hurried over. The person had long hair hanging down, head bowed, looking lifeless. As I got closer, the smell of decay grew stronger. My heart sank. It couldn’t be… He usually played with them for several days before killing them… “Skylar?” I lightly tapped her shoulder – The head tilted and suddenly rolled to the ground! I let out a startled cry, my phone clattering to the floor. The sound echoed jarringly in the empty room. “Honey?” Frederick’s voice came from outside. Oh no! He’d discovered me! I scrambled to pick up my phone, turned off the flashlight, and dove into a nearby large box. Sweat had already beaded on my forehead. “Honey?” The lights came on. Through a crack in the box, I could see his pants and fuzzy slippers moving this way. “Huh?” He bent down, puzzled. His head came close to the box. With his figure backlit, I could only see a cold glint off his glasses through the crack. I held my breath, not daring to move. Out of nervousness, I instinctively grabbed whatever I could reach beside me. It was sticky, cold, and stiff, wrapped in a leathery texture. It felt like… a hand?! I quickly let go. Frederick stepped back and picked up the fallen head. His long, slender fingers were pale and elegant. Strangely, the wedding ring he never took off was missing. He muttered to himself, “Has it been too long? Or was it rats? How did it just fall off?” My back was already soaked with sweat, clinging to my skin. I shivered. The slippers lingered in front of the box for a while before walking away. With a click, the lights went out. I slumped back, gasping like a fish out of water… “Hee hee-” A woman’s sudden laugh rang out inside the box!

In this enclosed, cramped space, the laughter was so crisp yet so eerie. My hair stood on end in fright. The lights came on again, and the shuffling of slippers grew closer – Something pressed against my face! My teeth chattered uncontrollably, my lips already numb. It was… that sticky, cold hand. “Sister, you and I are truly kindred spirits!” A soft female voice sounded in my ear. As she finished speaking, the lid of the box was lifted. Skylar stood up, climbed out of the box, and stood beside Frederick. “Sister, the hunt has begun.” In that moment, I felt ice-cold all over. I was so stupid. I thought that if I nurtured her from childhood with the idea that “if you can’t have something, destroy it,” she would eventually target Frederick and destroy him. I never expected one misstep would ruin everything. Compared to destroying Frederick, destroying his “owner” was clearly easier. I was tied up by the two of them, face to face with the decapitated female corpse. Frederick’s technique was practiced and skilled. His silver-rimmed glasses gleamed coldly. He looked so unfamiliar now, nothing like the Frederick who had made me ginger tea and rubbed my stomach earlier. “How do you want to play?” A Swiss Army knife twirled in Skylar’s hand. Frederick glanced at me coldly, his icy fingertips gripping my chin, his thumb caressing the corner of my lips. “No rush. I’ve waited all these years. This time, I’m going to take it slow and really enjoy myself!” “Right, honey?” The slightly upturned tone of his voice held absolute confidence and condescension. “Honey, don’t you love me anymore?” I tried to buy time, making myself look pitiful with tears in my eyes. “The ring I designed for you – you said you’d never take it off, even in death.” A flicker of confusion passed almost imperceptibly through his eyes. He let out a cold snort. “Skylar, watch her.” I watched him turn and stride away. His tall, straight back, the slim waist beneath his robe, his long legs, and that pale, ascetic face – all had once been the downfall of so many women. “He really is handsome, isn’t he?” The Swiss Army knife tapped my face. “Such a handsome man – if I didn’t make him mine, I’d be letting down all these years of your teachings.” “Just wait and see how he submits to me.” Her eyes flashed with the excitement of a predator eyeing its prey, her lips curled in an evil grin. Suddenly, she thrust the knife at me with all her might! The blade barely grazed my neck, changing direction to stab at my arm. The fabric tore as the knife tip embedded in the wooden frame. “You came to save me earlier, didn’t you?” She smiled at the cut she’d made on my arm, licking her lips.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “294865”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #现实主义Realistic #励志Inspiring #重生Reborn #校园School #浪漫Romance #擦边Steamy #惊悚Thriller