Author: Momo Chan

In the seventh year of our marriage, my husband fell in love with a kindergarten teacher and started treating me like dirt. “You’re old and ugly,” he said. “It’s a favor that I haven’t divorced you already.” My son, Connor, would look at me with disgust, saying, “Ms. Rivers is so much kinder than you, Mom. She’s a way better person.” And my parents piled on with their criticism too: “What kind of wife works this much? Work can’t make you a good mother, Julia!” They all kept pressuring me to give up my job, to come home and be the perfect wife and mother they wanted. 1 After wrapping up my business trip, I stopped by Cedar Park Kindergarten with Connor’s favorite bulldozer toy in hand, hoping to surprise him after school. When I got there, a few parents were already gathered, laughing and chatting in small clusters. I stood apart, unfamiliar with any of them, keeping my distance. One of the parents, visibly pregnant, glanced over at me with curiosity—and maybe a hint of suspicion. “Haven’t seen you around before. Which child is yours?” I pushed back my bangs with a smile. “My son’s Connor Hayes. He’s in the oldest class.” The crowd around me exchanged wide-eyed glances, as if I were some kind of rare animal on display. I couldn’t understand why they looked so shocked. I knew I didn’t pick Connor up often, but was it really that big of a surprise for me to be here? “Wait…you’re still around?” The pregnant woman hesitated, then quickly added, “I mean, Connor’s dad usually picks him up. Or sometimes his grandparents…” I guessed that my absence had led to some kind of assumption, and I gave her a polite smile. “My job keeps me busy, so my husband handles most of the pickups.” But even after I’d explained, their stares remained oddly intense, filled with an unsettling curiosity. I felt a hint of discomfort creeping in, and just as I was about to question them, a whole wave of parents arrived, murmuring among themselves and looking me up and down. The school bell rang, and parents poured into the kindergarten building. I joined the crowd, looking around for Connor, and then I spotted him. He was holding hands with a young woman, following her so obediently it nearly melted my heart. “Connor! Over here!” I waved to him, smiling. Connor spotted me and froze, his face registering shock before he clung to the young woman’s sleeve. Balancing on my heels, I walked over, knelt down, and held out the toy bulldozer. “Mom’s home early! I brought your favorite toy. Aren’t you excited?” The young woman’s face drained of color as she saw me. Other teachers nearby quickly stepped in to intercept. “Are you saying you’re Connor’s mother?” they asked, turning to Connor, who hesitated a long while before nodding reluctantly. But even then, the teachers didn’t let me through. They kept questioning me, asking why I was here to pick him up, and even probing into my marriage. I understood their concern, given I was an unfamiliar face, but the more questions they asked, the more riled up they seemed to get. They kept glancing nervously at the young woman with him. My instincts told me something wasn’t right. I decided to cut straight to the point: “Yes, I work a lot and don’t pick Connor up often, but hasn’t he mentioned me?” The teachers shifted uncomfortably. I felt a twinge of sadness but kept it to myself, focusing instead on my son. “Come on, Connor,” I said gently. “How about we go out for a nice dinner?” He wouldn’t come with me, hiding behind the young woman. “I want to wait for Dad to pick me up.” “I’m here, honey. We’ll just tell Dad to meet us at home later.” I coaxed him patiently. “Come on, I even booked your favorite steak place.” 2 But Connor just refused to go with me, and when he started crying loudly, I felt at a loss. I ended up calling my husband. When he realized I’d come home early, he sounded flustered but agreed to come over right away. So I waited, pacing outside the kindergarten, trying to understand how three short days away on business had left such a distance between my son and me. Then I noticed the pregnant woman again, hiding in the shade and sneaking bites of a snack with her little boy. She froze when she saw me watching, so I went over to pat her back. “Easy there, don’t choke,” I said with a small smile. She coughed and thanked me sheepishly, her little boy munching away, looking about Connor’s age. I couldn’t help but ruffle his hair; he looked so adorably stubborn. The woman hesitated before asking, “Connor’s mom, are you and his dad…still together?” What? I might have a busy schedule, but David and I had an arrangement where I focused on work, and he managed the home front. Not the most romantic setup, but it worked for us. I smiled. “I’ve been busy, but that doesn’t mean we’re getting divorced.” “Oh,” she said, voice trembling. “We all just thought…well, since you never showed up, we thought you weren’t…around. So we were kind of, um, encouraging Connor’s dad and Ms. Rivers.” Encouraging them? My mind went blank for a moment. “You mean, my husband and Ms. Rivers have…?” “Yes! We all thought Connor would like Ms. Rivers as a new mom. He even said so himself. So we just tried to help them out,” she explained, her face scrunched in distress. “If we’d known you were still…around, we never would have!” Imagine finding out you were declared dead without anyone telling you. I didn’t know what kind of expression to make. I just stood there in stunned silence until David arrived, holding Connor’s hand with Ms. Rivers right beside him, the three of them looking every bit like a picture-perfect family. I stepped forward and said, “Care for a chat?” 3 I’d always thought of myself as someone with a fair amount of patience. But David’s first reaction upon seeing me was irritation. “Why don’t you just head home first?” he said coldly. Connor echoed his father, “I want to go out with Dad and Ms. Rivers today.” I smiled wryly. “Not including me?” It was as if my own family had replaced me without telling me. I was just the old model, out of the loop. Standing at the kindergarten entrance, a small group of other parents watched us, murmuring among themselves. Ms. Rivers took the chance to flee, and David, or maybe I should say “someone else’s husband,” seethed as he hissed, “Julia, what’s wrong with you today?” What’s wrong with me? After pulling extra hours, all I wanted was to surprise my son. And this was the welcome I got? “I—” I barely started to speak before David yanked me away. I tried to pull back, but he dragged me to the car, shoved me into the back seat, and before I could even sit up, he floored the gas. I lurched forward, smacking my head on the front seat, the impact leaving me momentarily dizzy. Then, I heard Connor’s voice, quiet but scornful. “Serves you right. You shouldn’t bully Ms. Rivers.” My heart skipped a beat. Dazed, I reached up to touch my forehead and felt a sticky warmth on my hand—it was bleeding. Steadying myself, I spoke calmly, “David, take me to St. Mary’s.” He looked back in the rearview mirror and ignored me, keeping his eyes on the road home. At that moment, my anger was replaced by an icy dread. “Do you want a divorce?” I asked, voice cold. “Because you’re sinking pretty low here.” With a screech, he stopped the car on the side of the road, opened my door, and pushed me out. “Be grateful I haven’t divorced you, you washed-up woman.” He sneered, then lowered the window just enough to say, “Now, go cool off.” I pounded on the door, calling for Connor to let me in, but he just looked at me with disdain. “Ms. Rivers is way nicer than you. You deserve this.” Then, father and son sped off, leaving me stranded on the roadside. I ducked to the shoulder, barely avoiding traffic, and dialed for help. One car nearly hit me, and I rolled across its hood. The driver, horrified, immediately called 91

When I woke up, I was in a hospital bed at St. Mary’s, the young driver sitting by me, head in his hands, sobbing. Seeing me stir, he jumped up. “You’re awake! Doc, nurse—she’s awake!” “I’m fine,” I assured him, though his relief was so genuine. “You’re innocent here.” He took a deep breath. “That’s good. I thought I’d really messed up.” I looked around the empty room, holding onto a final bit of hope. “The hospital didn’t contact my family?” The young man, probably in his early twenties, scratched his head. “They did, but once they heard it was just some bruises, they hung up.” I managed a bitter smile, tears welling up. What had I done to deserve this? “Please don’t cry, ma’am. You’re alright now.” 4 David and I had met through mutual friends. On paper, we were evenly matched in looks, just enough to feel like we “fit” together. His college degree and career weren’t as promising as mine, but he came from a local family with solid roots—his parents both had pensions and several properties. As for me, my career was on an upward climb, though my own family background wasn’t as secure. Growing up in rural parts with my grandparents while my parents juggled jobs, I never had a strong safety net or any family wealth to speak of. My parents had insisted I find someone close by, and David fit the bill perfectly. David was calm and practical, a great cook and a homebody. Our arrangement made sense: I took on the breadwinning role, while he managed the household. And I thought I did my part well. After Connor’s difficult birth, I poured everything into being a good mom. No matter how busy, I always tried to make time for him, sneaking in short trips or a special family night whenever I could. I even handed over my paycheck, knowing how it might look if people saw a man struggling to get by while raising a child. But somewhere along the line, David and even Connor had drifted away. Even through the heartbreak, I forced myself to think logically. Hiring Brad Maxwell, the private investigator, I finally got the answers I’d been avoiding. For nearly three years, David had been carrying on with Ms. Rivers. I thought I’d been busy, but not so busy I couldn’t be there for school pickup once in a while. David had convinced me I could better use my time preparing dinner while he swung by to get Connor. And on days when I was out of town? He brought Connor and Ms. Rivers together like they were one happy family. And Connor—my son, the one I’d given everything to—was in on the lie. Ms. Rivers was younger, more cheerful, always there when he needed something. Taking a deep breath, I asked Brad, “Does she know?” Brad hesitated, then replied, “I’d say yes. All the gifts David’s bought her were paid with your card.” 5 According to Brad, Ms. Rivers had apparently even checked David’s phone and discovered my existence. But David had spun the story, saying he was divorced and that the card was just for “child support.” As if regular payments could be for child support. She had to know. Giving her the benefit of the doubt one last time, I tracked down her contact information and asked her to meet me. But when I arrived, it wasn’t Ms. Rivers waiting for me; it was David. He walked right up to me and threw coffee in my face. “Julia, enough already! I’m warning you, if you keep messing with Amanda, you’ll regret it.”

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I’m Sweet and Kind in Front of My Boyfriend, But Vicious and Cunning to His Sister I subtly turned this family upside down. Eventually, I drove his sister to jump off a building. In the bitter winter, her crimson blood seeped into the pristine snow. It looked exactly like the scene when my sister died years ago. This was the first time Ryan brought me to meet his parents. Looking at the upscale neighborhood before me, I nervously tugged at his sleeve and asked, “What if your parents don’t like me?” Ryan ruffled my hair reassuringly. “My parents aren’t that picky. Don’t worry, I’m here with you.” With that, he held my hand tightly and walked in. Having lived as a dependent for years, I was adept at reading people’s reactions. I could sense that Ryan’s parents were quite satisfied with me, especially when they saw the gifts I brought. They couldn’t stop praising my thoughtfulness. Ryan chimed in at the right moment: “Dad, Aria knew you’re into tech research, so she specifically bought you the latest Alienware laptop.” “Mom, this bag is from Aria’s business trip to Europe. She went to five different streets to get this new release. It’s not even available in the States yet.” Emma, however, looked at the clothes in her hands and asked confusedly, “What brand is this? Where’s the label?” I explained, “Emma, I heard from your brother that you’ve been into qipaos recently. As I studied fashion design, I thought I’d make one for you myself.” Of course, I had chosen ordinary silk fabric that only cost a few dollars wholesale. Emma frowned slightly, clearly unimpressed. “What’s with that attitude?” Ryan, displeased with his sister’s reaction, spoke up to defend me. “Aria stayed up several nights to make this dress for you. She even hurt her hands!” Emma glanced at her parents’ expensive gifts, then at the cheap item in her hands. She pursed her lips but said nothing more. That night, I deliberately ate two bowls of rice, my stomach aching from being overly full. Yet, I maintained a smile on my face, praising the deliciousness of the meal. “No wonder Ryan grew so tall. It’s not just Mr. Parker’s excellent genes, but also Mrs. Parker’s superb cooking skills.” Mrs. Parker was very pleased with this comment, beaming from ear to ear. She paused for a moment, then added regretfully, “But now Ryan rarely comes home, and Emma is always on about dieting. If only they were like you, I’d have more motivation to cook.” I smiled wryly. “Ryan is just too busy with work, it can’t be helped. But why is Emma on a diet? She’s already so thin! If it were me, I wouldn’t be able to resist Mrs. Parker’s delicious food. Who cares about gaining weight? Health is what matters.” “Exactly! Well said!” Hearing this, Mrs. Parker pointed at Emma, who was flipping through a magazine, and complained, “Look at you, you don’t know how good you have it!” Emma’s face darkened, and she gave me a meaningful look. She wasn’t angry because of the scolding, but because I wasn’t the one being scolded. I smiled. This was nothing compared to what was coming. I’ll never forget that winter night ten years ago. My older sister leaped from the rooftop like a desperate, broken-winged bird, shattering into pieces, her body a bloody mess. She died tragically, but resolutely. That image was etched deep into my bones, leaving me utterly hopeless. It turns out that when people are in extreme pain, they remain silent, unable to make any sound at all. At that moment, I opened my mouth, but the words caught in my throat. I stared blankly as the glaring red gradually became covered by the pristine white snow. My hand loosened, and the bag of candied chestnuts fell to the ground. A few rolled out, crushed under the panicked crowd’s feet, as if they were crushing someone else’s entire life. After our parents died in a car accident, our uncle took responsibility for caring for me and my sister, conveniently taking the compensation money as well. The two sisters lived under someone else’s roof, enduring cold stares. Fortunately, we were both diligent, always at the top of our class. My sister often told me to hang in there, promising that she would give me the best life in the future, and we wouldn’t have to swallow our pride and endure others’ contempt anymore. But for some reason, her grades started plummeting from her junior year of high school. In the end, unable to bear the pressure, she committed suicide by jumping off a building. At the time, this incident even made it to the newspapers, with the theme of caring for the mental health of teenagers. But I always felt something was off. My sister rarely came home as she lived in the school dorms. Her belongings were reluctantly packed up from her dorm room by our aunt and uncle. They put her things in a box. Aunt wouldn’t let me touch it, saying it was unlucky. She was hesitant to throw it away but also fearful of keeping it, so she ended up locking it in the attic. A year later, when I graduated from middle school, my uncle’s family of three went on vacation during the summer break, leaving me the key and telling me to watch the house. I took the opportunity to open the attic door, found the box, and discovered my sister’s diary. It was filled with detailed records of her being bullied. Some of the writing was blurred by tears, but it couldn’t hide the horrifying experiences. It was as if I had opened Pandora’s box. My hands couldn’t stop shaking. The culprit was Emma Parker. She wasn’t from a wealthy family, but her family was well-off. She was pretty and always had a group of followers who obeyed her every command. My sister had excellent grades, but because of her aloof personality and a birthmark on her face, she inexplicably became Emma’s target and a source of amusement during her reckless years. Emma and her gang cornered my sister in the bathroom, stripped her clothes off, and took photos to blackmail her into keeping quiet. In the dorm room, Emma tied up my sister’s hands and feet, gagged her, wrapped her in a quilt, and beat her. Apparently, this was a method used by prison inmates to bully newcomers. It was very painful but didn’t leave visible marks. Emma never tired of it, constantly coming up with new ways to torment her. Putting thumbtacks in her shoes, throwing her backpack in the pool, pouring drinks on her bed… Teenage girls are like apples on early autumn branches, slightly sour but sweet, waiting to ripen and fall. But if a worm gets in, and isn’t removed in time, the rot will only spread until the fruit completely withers. Emma was that worm. Finally, my sister couldn’t take it anymore and sought help from a teacher. But her classmates all said Emma was cheerful and generous, and had never bullied anyone. The matter was dismissed. Things seemed to calm down for a while. Little did we know, it was just the calm before the avalanche. One night, as my sister was dozing off, she was suddenly tied up and gagged. When the lights came on, it was Emma’s sweet yet vicious smile. Her followers surrounded them. Emma held an electric shaver in her hand. The buzzing sound was like a demon’s whisper, beating against every nerve in my sister’s scalp. Chunks of black hair fell, stripping away her last shred of dignity. Emma stroked my sister’s bald head, very satisfied. But it wasn’t over. She produced a thick iron chain from somewhere and put it around my sister’s neck, laughing wildly, boasting that this was her pet dog. Then she took out her phone and video called her brother. The camera was pointed at my sister. The siblings critiqued my sister’s appearance, their words like cold knives stabbing into her organs. Through the screen, my sister heard Ryan’s deep, contemptuous voice. He said, “What an obedient dog. I’ve taken a screenshot, I’ll share it with the boys.” “Wait,” Emma added, “Bro, I have even better photos here, the kind where she’s not wearing anything. I’ll send them to you.” She looked at my sister, raising her eyebrows triumphantly: “I warned you before not to talk nonsense, but you were just too disobedient.” The mocking laughter never ceased, successfully breaking down my sister’s last psychological defense. After that, rumors spread throughout the class, saying she was dirty, so dirty that she had lice in her hair. Everyone avoided her, building an invisible wall three feet away, standing on top of it to point and whisper. Even the places she walked and the things she used had to be sprayed with disinfectant. She started having frequent nightmares, couldn’t rest well, her grades plummeted, and she often had hallucinations, her mental state becoming abnormal. I remember when my sister came home one weekend, she looked at me quietly, her bright eyes clearly reflecting my image. At that moment, it was as if I was her entire world. I froze and asked, “Sis… where’s your hair?” “It was so itchy, itchy to the point that my heart and lungs were burning with discomfort, so I shaved it off.” She caressed my cheek with a loving expression. I was about to say something when I heard our aunt’s impatient voice from the living room: “Which one of you is going out to buy groceries? Two extra mouths to feed out of nowhere, and not a bit of consideration!” Hearing this, my sister smiled at me gently, took out five dollars, and said, “You go. And buy a bag of candied chestnuts while you’re at it. I know you’ve been craving them.” “Okay, we’ll eat them together when I get back!” I ran hurriedly, wanting to come back and have a good heart-to-heart with my sister. Little did I know, that would be our final goodbye. I never forgot Emma Parker. Nor did I forget her brother who aided and abetted her. Apparently, he was the campus heartthrob at his university. I found his photo on the school website and learned about his post-graduation whereabouts from the forum. I closely followed his social media accounts and went to great lengths to guess his preferences. In my junior year of college, I interned at Ryan’s company, deliberately getting close to him, creating an image of a Mary Sue protagonist from a poor background, orphaned, but excellent in academics and working part-time jobs, refusing to bow to fate. Little did he know, I was following a revenge script. I was pretty, smart, and had a good personality. I quickly caught Ryan’s attention and made him actively pursue me. I didn’t love him, so I could also keep him in check. In the second year of our relationship, I proposed breaking up, saying I had fallen for someone else. Ryan didn’t believe it. He started following me. When I returned to the old neighborhood and deliberately provoked my aunt to get angry, deliberately forcing her to lay hands on me, with my cries echoing in the alley, Ryan kicked the door open. He played the role of a hero saving the damsel in distress. At that time, I was covered in bruises. I bit my lip, tears in my eyes, looked at him, and said word by word: “You should go. I don’t want to drag you down.” I had practiced this expression in front of the mirror countless times, not missing a single detail. Even the loose strands of hair falling on my forehead added a touch of beauty to the scene. Pitiful and helpless. Like a desperate and helpless little deer. Ryan’s eyes were full of heartache. He reached out and hugged me, saying firmly: “Don’t say such nonsense. As long as I’m here, no one can bully you.” I buried my face in his chest, the corners of my mouth slightly curled up. The fish had taken the bait. Later, that sentence would come true for Emma. That night, there was a heavy rainstorm with thunder and lightning. I stayed at Ryan’s place. The next day, however, I found a qipao in the kitchen trash can, cut to pieces. My shoulders trembled slightly, and I looked at Emma in disbelief. She explained nervously: “I didn’t cut it! I just threw…” Her voice trailed off. Emma lowered her head guiltily. She had never liked the gift and didn’t think much of me, so she was naturally eager to throw it away. At the time, the qipao was still covered by a pile of fruit peels and paper scraps. I had secretly dug it out in the middle of the night and cut it to pieces myself. Ryan shouted angrily at Emma: “You’ve gone too far! No manners at all!” Hmph, manners? The pot calling the kettle black. I suppressed the cold mockery in my heart, my eyes slightly red, head lowered, and said to Emma in an almost humble tone: “I’m sorry, I didn’t consider it properly this time. I’ll get you something else next time, as an apology.” Ryan was extremely distressed. He put his arm around me and said angrily: “What apology? If anything, she should be apologizing to you!” Mrs. Parker was also disappointed: “Child, how come you’re getting more and more ill-mannered as you grow up? It was Aria’s heartfelt gift after all!” Emma was stunned, feeling wronged. Under Ryan’s stern rebuke, she very reluctantly apologized to me. On the way back, Ryan looked guilty: “Emma has been spoiled by the family, doing whatever she wants. I’m sorry you had to go through that.” I shook my head: “This little grievance is nothing to me. Besides, your sister is just a bit spoiled, but she’s not bad-hearted. Ryan, you don’t need to blame her too much.” Ryan stroked my cheek, his eyes filled with even more guilt. After that, I often visited Mrs. Parker. I was always courteous and never empty-handed. When she cooked, I helped cut vegetables. After meals, I took the initiative to wash dishes. I found various ways to praise her culinary skills, invited her to go shopping and watch plays on weekends, shared trivial matters around me, and health tips I saw online. From time to time, I would sigh: “It feels so good to have a mom around.” Every time Mrs. Parker heard this, she couldn’t help but sigh, then hold my hand affectionately and say, “Aria, from now on, you’re a member of the Parker family.” I’m not stupid. I’m not Mrs. Parker’s child, how could she truly care about me? She was just too lonely. Ryan and Emma had grown up and had their own lives. Mr. Parker was a university professor, always either writing papers or doing experiments. Mrs. Parker was getting on in years, with no friends and no social life. She just hoped to have someone to keep her company. Occasionally when we went shopping and met sweet-talking salespeople, they would enthusiastically praise: “Ma’am, you’re so blessed. Your daughter is beautiful and filial, buying you so many things.” It didn’t matter, I was using Ryan’s card anyway. At first, Mrs. Parker would explain that I was her daughter-in-law, but soon, she just smiled and accepted it. One day, I was carrying bags of shopping with Mrs. Parker when we returned home. We turned on the lights to find Emma looking displeased. She quickly glanced at me, then looked at Mrs. Parker, her expression aggrieved, and asked, “Mom, today is my birthday. Do you remember?” There was a birthday cake on the table. The candles had already gone out. Mr. Parker was out of town for an academic conference. Ryan was also away on a business trip and couldn’t return anytime soon. Emma had recently broken up with her boyfriend and had a falling out with her best friend. In the empty house, there was only one forgotten birthday girl. Mrs. Parker was stunned. She had clearly forgotten. But I remembered. That’s why I deliberately took Mrs. Parker to see a comedy show she liked, and deliberately bought tickets for the late show. I smiled and said to Emma, “Of course we remembered. That’s why Mom specifically took me shopping today to buy you lots of new clothes.” Mrs. Parker came to her senses and hurriedly said, “Yes, yes, Emma, try them on quickly.” She looked at me with disgust and asked, “Who do you think you are? What right do you have to interfere in matters between my mother and me? What, you don’t have a mom so you’re trying to steal someone else’s?” Mrs. Parker’s face changed. She frowned, “Emma! How can you talk like that!” Hearing this, I silently put down the bags. As I bent down, I bit my tongue hard, immediately causing tears to flow. When I raised my head again, it was a face streaked with tears. I sniffled and said in a choked voice, “Emma, I know you don’t like me, but shouldn’t there be at least some basic respect? Besides, your birthday is also the day your mother went through hardship to give birth to you. If you can’t be grateful, at least don’t blame your elders, right?” With that, I ignored Mrs. Parker who wanted to wipe my tears and left directly. That night, Ryan called. His voice was lazy as he asked, “Honey, where did you and mom go play today?” I didn’t say anything. I just kept sniffling. There was silence on the other end for a few seconds, then his tone became serious: “Are you crying?” I let out a long sigh and said chokingly, “No, I just watched a pretty heartbreaking movie.” “What’s it called?” “… I don’t remember.” Ryan wanted to say something more, but I interrupted him: “Ryan, I’m a bit tired. I’m going to sleep now.” I immediately turned off my phone. The next morning, Ryan appeared at my doorstep. There were faint dark circles under his eyes, clearly he hadn’t slept all night. I put on a surprised expression: “Why did you come back?” Ryan reached out and hugged me, saying guiltily, “Aria, Mom told me everything.” “I scolded Emma harshly. That girl is really hateful. She’s three years older than you, yet not even half as good as you.” I said helplessly, “Let it go, I won’t hold it against her. But Ryan, I was really embarrassed yesterday. I left without saying goodbye to your mom. I feel bad about it now. I want to buy her a necklace.” “It’s okay, my mom feels like she owes you an apology instead.” I pursed my lips and said nothing. Ryan tapped my nose. “Why don’t we buy two necklaces? One for each of you.” He increased the credit limit on his card. I bought two identical diamond necklaces, which were quite expensive. When I gave it to Mrs. Parker, I said, “Mom, as they say, ‘a child’s birth is a mother’s ordeal.’ This is my heartfelt thought. From now on, whenever it’s Ryan’s or Emma’s birthday, I’ll prepare a gift for you too.” She was so moved after hearing this that she couldn’t help but say, “If only Emma was half as thoughtful as you.” On the day of the Mid-Autumn Festival, everyone gathered for a meal. When Emma saw her mother and me wearing matching necklaces, her face turned extremely cold. It wasn’t hard to see that she was eating this meal with a heavy heart. But my appetite was excellent. Mr. Parker was a man of few words. I heard that he was single-mindedly devoted to his research, hoping to win a Nobel Prize in his lifetime, and never cared about anything else. Sure enough, Mr. Parker hurriedly ate a few bites and then left, heading straight for the university laboratory. After the meal, Mrs. Parker suddenly had the urge to show me Ryan’s childhood photos. I smiled and played along for a few sentences, then said, “Mom, I’d like to see Emma’s photos too. She’s so beautiful, she must have been pretty since she was little.” No mother dislikes others praising her children. She hurriedly took out another photo album, explaining as she flipped through it, finally coming to Emma’s high school years. There were two group photos. One was from freshman orientation, and one was from just before graduation. My sister wasn’t in the latter. She originally had a bright future ahead of her, but was forever stuck at seventeen. Mrs. Parker was still chattering on, boasting that Emma often received love letters from boys in high school. Ryan came back from smoking on the balcony and heard this. He sneered, “Emma even chased after the sports representative in her class back then, but unfortunately, he liked the class monitor and rejected her.” Mrs. Parker was surprised, “Oh my, I didn’t know about this. Looks like you two siblings kept quite a few secrets from me.” Ryan’s lips curled into a smile as he continued, “And that class monitor was an ugly girl with a weird personality. It really pissed off your precious daughter at the time.” My sister… was the class monitor. So there was this layer of history. Whether it was suicidal thoughts or jealousy, the impulsiveness of youth was like a bolt of lightning during a tribulation. My sister didn’t dodge it, but Emma successfully cultivated herself. As if on cue, she came out of the shower, drying her wet hair, and said disdainfully, “Just thinking about that short-lived ghost makes me feel unlucky.” I struggled to steady my trembling voice and asked, “Short-lived ghost?” Mrs. Parker suddenly remembered, “Oh, that girl who committed suicide by jumping off a building because her grades dropped? Tsk tsk, with such poor ability to handle pressure, she wouldn’t have amounted to much in society anyway.” Emma sneered, “Mom, you can tell just by looking at her face. Your face reflects your heart, and she had a birthmark on her face, proving her heart was dark too.” What absurd logic! I looked at Emma and raised an eyebrow, “So, you knew her well?” Emma’s face flashed with discomfort. She shrugged, “Anyway, the whole class disliked her.” Then she looked at Ryan meaningfully and said, “In the past, when someone upset me, my brother would always stand on my side. Now it’s different.” Ryan seemed to think of something, his expression stiffened, and he didn’t speak anymore. I lowered my eyes, caressing my sister’s face in the photo, and calmly said, “This girl must have been bullied a lot in class.” Mrs. Parker didn’t seem to care much, “Well, she should look for reasons within herself. Why bully her and not others?” …Well, it’s parents like this that raise children like that. Emma said coldly, “That’s right. Anyway, she deserved to die. If she were alive, she’d just be wasting social resources. She might as well be reborn as a dog.” I took a deep breath, barely suppressing the hatred surging in my heart. Emma suddenly said, “Aria, actually, I have something to give you. It’s in my room.” This caught me by surprise. Once in the bedroom, Emma took out a brand new bottle of perfume. She smiled maliciously, leaned close to me, and said in a low voice, “Use it generously. It might cover up your slutty and poor smell.” Oh, so she called me to the room just to say this. Since that’s the case, I couldn’t let her kindness go to waste. I raised my hand and slapped her hard across the face. Emma couldn’t bear this insult. After a moment of shock, she angrily said, “You dare to hit me!” With that, she went crazy, grabbing my hair and banging my head against the wardrobe repeatedly. I didn’t fight back. The commotion was loud. Mrs. Parker and Ryan rushed in, quickly pulling her away. Ryan shielded me and shouted, “Emma Parker, what the fuck is wrong with you!” Mrs. Parker was also furious, “Emma, how could you hit someone!” Emma pointed at the red mark on her face and cried, “Aria hit me first! I was being kind and giving her perfume, thinking that since we’re going to be family, we should get along. But who knew she wouldn’t appreciate it and even mocked the gift for being cheap! Mom, do you think I would slap myself?” “This…” Mrs. Parker looked at me in confusion. I wiped the blood from my forehead and nodded, “That’s right, I hit her first, and I did say the gift was cheap.” Under Emma’s astonished gaze, I raised my face and said solemnly, “It’s not my fault that my parents died. I’m not a harbinger of doom like you say, nor did I ever intend to bring misfortune to your family.” At this point, I became increasingly choked up, “You try to get rid of me with a bottle of perfume and tell me to get lost. Who could bear such humiliation?” I looked at Ryan, tears streaming down my face, “Ryan, I’m not a harbinger of doom. I want to have parents too…” Emma was stunned, hurriedly trying to explain, “She’s lying! I didn’t say she was a harbinger of doom! I didn’t…” “Slap!” This time, it was Ryan who hit her. He hit her hard, causing her to fall to the ground, blood trickling from the corner of her mouth. Emma held her face, looking at Ryan in disbelief, “Brother… you hit me?” “You’d rather believe an outsider than your own sister?!” Ryan looked at her with extreme disgust and said coldly, “That kind of filthy talk does sound like your style.” Emma cried bitterly, feeling wronged. She shouted at Mrs. Parker, “Mom! Tell me who’s right and who’s wrong!” But Mrs. Parker just frowned and said nothing. As Emma cried, her face gradually showed helplessness,anger, and intense hatred.

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I recently noticed that my daughter’s mood has become unpredictable. She would get extremely excited or deeply disappointed over a single comment from her school teacher. After my repeated questioning, she finally admitted, “You’re a bad mom. I like my dance teacher more as my mom.” “If only Miss Diana could be my mom, Dad would definitely smile more,” she pouted. I frowned, my woman’s intuition screaming inside: That woman is seducing my husband, and worse, she’s trying to manipulate my daughter psychologically. My name is Olivia Wilson, 31 years old, married, and the only daughter of a small business owner. I have an MBA from overseas and currently work as a marketing manager in a company. To outsiders, I seem to be living an enviable life: born into a wealthy family, highly educated, and happily married with a child. But only I know that deep down, I’m actually a very insecure and weak person. Growing up in a single-parent family has made me cold and indifferent towards others. I’m not as devoted to my family as I am to my work. My husband is handsome and capable, and my daughter is sweet and well-behaved. The only flaw is that after giving birth, I immediately threw myself into a demanding project at work, missing the best time for postpartum recovery. As a result, I now have stubborn belly fat and a C-section scar that I can’t get rid of, which has become a big regret for me. Jack, however, doesn’t seem to mind. He often hugs me from behind and whispers, “Darling, you’ll always be the most beautiful in my eyes.” He’s said this to me twice before: once during our wedding vows, and once when I had a major hemorrhage due to breech position during childbirth. I was in the ICU then, tears blurring my vision, my body reeking. I asked him, “Honey, am I ugly now?” He kissed my hand gently, without any disgust, and said I was the most beautiful woman in his heart. Jack’s deep affection and tenderness have kept our marriage in a state of mild warmth since we got married. Now, our daughter Lily is four years old and in middle class at kindergarten. He takes on the responsibility of being a good father and husband. Since I’m usually busy with work and he often works night shifts as a programmer, he’s the one who picks up our daughter from school. One day, I saw a parenting forum on my phone suggesting that parental companionship is the most important factor in a child’s growth. After reading it, I felt guilty, realizing I hadn’t spent enough time with my daughter lately. So I left work early that afternoon and called Jack: “Honey, I’ll pick up Lily today. It’s Blue Bell Kindergarten, Middle Class 3, right? Is it still the east entrance for pick-up?” I admit I haven’t done enough in terms of spending time with our child, and Jack only picks her up from school because my work hours clash with her school dismissal time. But when we get home, I’m the one who cooks. For Lily’s healthy growth, I even got a nutritionist certificate in my spare time, just to prepare balanced and nutritious meals for them. I rarely visit my daughter’s kindergarten, having been there only once for a parent-teacher meeting. Due to a timing mistake, and unable to reach Jack on his phone, I ended up standing at the gate for an hour and a half before realizing other parents were already leaving. Lily came out with her little backpack, looking surprised to see me there to pick her up. Her big, bright eyes flashed with astonishment. As she approached, I quickly took her backpack and told her I had been waiting for her for a long time. My daughter pouted and said, “Silly mommy, today teacher gave me extra dance lessons. You didn’t even know!” I crouched down, feeling guilty. Jack hadn’t told me clearly, so I had come at her usual dismissal time. However, at that moment, I suddenly noticed a trace of chili oil at the corner of her lips. Although it was just a tiny bit, my keen eye caught it. As a certified nutritionist, I strictly forbid my baby from eating any junk food. Spicy snacks and chips are off-limits, even though she loves them. I held her small hand and sniffed it. Despite having been washed, the strong artificial flavor couldn’t be masked by the hand soap. My face darkened. “Lily, did you eat spicy snacks?” Seeing my anger, she immediately deflated, puffing up her cheeks and refusing to admit it. “Honey, didn’t Mommy teach you to be an honest child? No lying, okay?” I tried to stay calm, knowing that children this age need effective guidance rather than harsh criticism. Under my gentle coaxing, my daughter finally spoke up. She said the spicy snacks were given to her by their dance teacher, only to her, and she was told not to tell her parents or other kids. “If only Miss Diana could be my mom, Dad would definitely smile more,” my daughter said with a pout. I raised an eyebrow, my grip on her delicate wrist unconsciously tightening as I angrily said: “What did you say? Do you know how much it hurts Mommy to hear you say that?” She suddenly jerked her hand away in a fit of temper, tears of petulance glistening in her eyes. She grabbed the water bottle from my hand and threw it on the ground: “She buys me fried chicken and spicy snacks, and plays with me. You can’t give me anything.” I stood there in shock, watching my usually well-behaved daughter become increasingly spoiled and even break the water bottle. I began to realize how much I had failed in my role as a mother, to the point where my daughter thought another woman would be a better mom. However, her childish words inadvertently revealed some shocking facts to me: My husband had shown fondness for another woman in front of her.

And to win over my daughter, she was pulling out all the stops to please her. This Miss Diana, I vaguely remembered, was the dance teacher at the kindergarten, named Diana Lee. My daughter loves dancing. Diana has been teaching Lily since the junior class. I had seen her in a class photo before and even joked with my husband: “Look at this teacher, she’s so pretty and fresh-faced. She looks like an older sister among the kids.” Jack, however, said she was already thirty years old. Seeing my surprise, he inadvertently added: “She used to be a yoga instructor. Her kid is already over three years old, but I must say, she’s maintained herself really well.” At that moment, a flash of surprise crossed my mind: why did Jack know so much about this teacher? But I just laughed it off. Perhaps it was because Jack often went to the kindergarten to pick up our daughter and had heard some things. Looking back now, there were clues all along. However, the caution ingrained in me from my family background made me reluctant to disrupt our family harmony without concrete evidence. What if, what if Lily was just saying things out of anger? What if that teacher was already married? After all, she was supposed to be a role model. I tried to comfort myself, afraid of wrongly accusing someone of something they didn’t do. Children’s Day was coming up in a few days, and my daughter was going to perform a “Fairy Dance” on stage. Diana was in charge of rehearsing their class performance. I decided to go and see her in person to investigate. It was already quite hot in our small southern city in June, but I didn’t dare wear a dress. I stuck to my usual outfit of a shirt and cropped pants. I hadn’t recovered well after my C-section, leaving scars on my abdomen and stretch marks extending to my legs, which made me very self-conscious. But as I entered the kindergarten, I saw her graceful figure from afar, by the stage. Even without beauty filters, she looked exactly like in the photo, perfectly embodying the “fair, young, and slim” aesthetic. I was momentarily stunned, involuntarily thinking how beautiful she was. If I hadn’t given up the best time for postpartum recovery due to work, I probably wouldn’t be so different from her. Miss Diana was wearing a white crop top, with several cute little buns in her hair, her curvy figure looking very alluring. At that moment, she was patiently crouching by the stage, gently encouraging: “Darlings, do you all remember the dance steps for when you go on stage?” “Yes, we do!” the children chorused in unison. The most excited voice among them was my daughter Lily’s. She had pointy elf ears attached to both of her little ears, and the shimmering purple eye shadow made her big eyes sparkle. I stood in the shade of a nearby tree, just tenderly watching my daughter, my most precious connection in this world. As for the incident from a few days ago, I only felt guilt and self-reproach towards my daughter. After thinking about it all night, I decided to sacrifice some work time when possible to spend more time with Lily and be part of her childhood. Rather than having her constantly thinking about adopting an outsider as her mother. At this moment, Diana seemed to notice my presence. With a wide smile, she walked towards me. “Excuse me, ma’am, which child’s parent are you? Why don’t you go sit in the audience area?” Perhaps due to her dance training, her figure looked even more stunning up close. Her slender waist seemed like it could be encircled by one hand, and there was even a small diamond piercing in her belly button. I snapped back to reality and quickly smiled apologetically, “Oh, I’m Lily Thompson’s parent…” But I was oddly stunned when I saw her expression upon hearing this. Because I clearly saw a glint of cunning in her eyes. “Are you her grandmother?” I frowned at her. Although I hadn’t recovered well after giving birth, I didn’t have any age spots or anything on my face. I clearly looked like I was in my early thirties. How could she mistake me for a grandmother? “…I’m her mother.” Diana feigned surprise, her voice still sweet: “Oh, so you’re Lily’s mom. I’m sorry, some of the other kids have grandmothers who come to pick them up, and they look very young too. Lily’s dad usually picks her up, so you don’t come often, right?” Her slightly passive-aggressive words instantly woke me up, reminding me of why I came here. My thoughts gradually became clear. No wonder Lily likes her. Women like her, both in appearance and tone, are extremely captivating and easy for people to warm up to. Thinking back to what my daughter said yesterday, I felt dispirited and listless throughout the entire kindergarten event. The camera in my hand captured snapshots of my daughter’s small figure. But my peripheral vision lingered long on Diana’s flower-like smile. We’re both thirty years old… but she’s maintained herself so much better than I have. Thinking of Lily’s closeness to her, I couldn’t help but feel an immense sense of panic, with tears welling up in my eyes. I have to say, if all my suspicions were true, my daughter would probably be very happy to have such a gentle and beautiful stepmother in the future. Jack would be happier too. Then what am I… Am I just a nuisance that others want to discard?

I was distracted for many days, feeling increasingly uneasy. Even Jack noticed that something was off with me. Seeing that I kept rejecting his advances, he asked curiously: “Honey, what’s wrong? Did I do something to upset you?” I shook my head. He had done everything well, perfectly, without anything to criticize. However, the calmer the surface of a lake appears, the more likely it is to hide turbulent undercurrents beneath. This seemingly uneventful life continued for another two weeks. I didn’t want to dwell on these trivial matters anymore. My new work was already keeping me extremely busy, but I didn’t complain. Because my boss had promised that after completing this project, I would have more free time. Then I could spend more time with my daughter. Tuesday was a rainy day. Just before I got off work, my daughter called me from the kindergarten’s landline. Her small voice on the other end sounded excited: “Mom, you don’t need to pick me up after school. I’m going to Nini’s house for a birthday party. Her mom said she’d pick us up.” I quickly responded with a couple of “oh”s, asking her why she didn’t tell me earlier so I could have bought a birthday gift for her classmate. Going empty-handed would be impolite. My daughter’s voice was filled with pride: “Miss Diana already took me shopping. She helped me pick out a gift, a crystal music box. It cost over $100!” So expensive? I was stunned, my suspicions growing stronger. Why would a kindergarten teacher help a student buy such an expensive gift for someone else? Miss Diana… it’s her again. Whenever my daughter talks about anything related to kindergarten, that woman’s name is always on her lips. As if she’s been bewitched. I had also privately asked other children, who all eagerly told me that Lily was their dance teacher’s favorite student. “She praises her every day. When others fail at doing the splits, they get punished to stand, but not her. Miss Diana is so gentle with her.” But I knew in my heart that my daughter didn’t have any particular talent for dance, nor was she diligent in practice. With this in mind, a flood of questions left me restless. I could only softly remind her to “be careful” before hanging up. My daughter on the other end seemed eager to end the call and quickly hung up. I held the phone in silence for a long time, then turned to my colleague and said: “Lisa, could you help me continue with this list? I have an urgent matter and need to leave work early.” My colleague looked troubled, “Olivia, you’ve been in charge of this overseas project all along. Even if I wanted to help, I couldn’t do it. I’m afraid I might mess things up for you.” My mind was in chaos, but I still didn’t want to jeopardize the company’s task or disappoint my boss’s trust in me. So it wasn’t until after 8 PM that I finally finished the list, exhausted. I didn’t even have time for dinner before rushing off to pick up my daughter. I looked through my daughter’s classmate directory and saw that Nini lived in Dream World Villa, Building 13. I quickly drove there. Nini’s house was very spacious. Because of the birthday party today, the doors were wide open, but strangely, there weren’t many people inside. The Filipino maid in the villa told me that Nini and the other classmates had all gone to the back bay to see the blue tears tide, a bioluminescent phenomenon. I quickly grabbed her and asked: “Did Lily go too? The girl with pigtails, wearing a red polka dot puff-sleeve dress.” The maid seemed to think for a moment, then replied, “Oh, I’ve seen her. She’s the child Miss Diana brought, right? They didn’t go to the beach, they’re talking in the house.” Everyone else had gone to play, why was she keeping my daughter in a room… I had an ominous feeling. Ignoring the maid’s attempts to stop me, I rushed into the house with my bag. I stopped at the door of the only noisy bedroom, frowning as I heard sounds coming from inside—

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I had just joined the freshman group chat when I received a friend request. [Lucas] I glanced at the real Lucas beside me, who was lounging lazily on the couch, picking at his feet while watching a beauty pageant show. Why would he suddenly add me as a friend? I accepted the request, and the person got straight to the point. [Hey freshman, want to date?] “Bro, I heard you want to date me?” Not only was my brother surprised, but my stepmom also rushed in from the kitchen where she was washing dishes and gave him a slap. She grabbed her son’s ear. “You little rascal, can’t you behave? Your sister is off-limits, do you want a beating?” Lucas and I aren’t related by blood. He’s my stepmom’s son. When I was fourteen, our families merged, but it wasn’t as dramatic as in TV shows. We got along well and lived in peace. Lucas and I were especially close, even more than real siblings. After my college entrance exam, following Lucas’s advice, I applied to the same university as him. The only difference was that he was a graduate student, while I was an incoming freshman. Lucas, who had just been inexplicably beaten by his mom, was quite indignant. But when he turned to me, his tone softened, with a hint of grievance. “Ava, you didn’t say this just to get my mom to hit me, did you…?” “Of course not.” I handed him my phone. The childish person on the other end was still entertaining himself. [Freshman, what admission batch are you in? I’m currently a graduate student, and I’ve already been recommended for a Ph.D. program.] [Freshman, I saw the photos in your moments, they’re all so pretty. Do you have any no-makeup photos? Those are more real.] [Freshman, do you want to see my photos? I guarantee you’ll be very satisfied.] The moment I handed the phone to my brother, another message popped up. [If you want to see, it’s $5 per photo ] I could feel my brother’s anger about to burn through the ceiling. That person shamelessly added another sentence. [I, Lucas, am the acknowledged campus heartthrob at our school ] My brother was so angry he wanted to smash my precious phone, but remembering he had worked part-time jobs to save up and buy it for me, he couldn’t bear to. He just tossed the phone back to me. “This bastard, don’t let me find out who it is, or I’ll use him as a lab rat. I’ll sterilize him first, then crack his skull open.”

I opened my phone and carefully examined that account, comparing it to my brother’s account. If I hadn’t already added my brother, even I might not have been able to tell the difference. Even the Snapchat account was strikingly similar, with only a few digits different. From the Snapchat space to the message board and signature, everything was identical. “I just joined the freshman group, and he immediately added me. Looks like this isn’t his first time.” My brother nodded at my words. “So how do we deal with this bastard?” “Hold off until school starts.” My brother exclaimed, “By then, how many girls will he have victimized in my name!” “If we expose him now, he’ll just stop targeting me. Can you catch him? He’ll just block me and move on to the next victim, won’t he?” My brother was a straightforward engineering guy. Ask him to unravel the mysteries of the universe, easy. But ask him to handle intricate matters, it’s like asking for his life. “So how do you plan to respond?” I typed a few words on the keyboard, then deleted them. “Bro, give me five bucks.” My brother almost kicked me. “Did your IQ drop to zero after the college entrance exam? You’re not really going to pay for my photos, are you?” I was thinking, compared to dating and scamming for emotions, this kind of scammer would definitely prefer to have a sucker willing to give him money. This would be the best way to keep him around. “I can’t give you much, don’t let that idiot enjoy too much.” Though my brother complained, he still sent me a $50 gift on Snapchat. After all, Snapchat payments weren’t mainstream, and he was afraid I’d give too much to that scammer. “I know what I’m doing.”

I sent the scammer ten bucks, and sure enough, he sent over two fleeting photos. Both were photos of my brother. [How about it, satisfied? I think I’m more than a match for you.] This scammer was really shameless. I played along. [Wow, I’ve seen you before!] My brother wasn’t a good student in his early years and barely made it into a community college. After my stepmom married into our family with him, he saw me studying all the time and was influenced by me. From community college to bachelor’s to master’s to PhD, he became a model student. Not only did the school love to brag about such talent, but even the school forum was full of his glorious deeds. The scammer was smug. [Your brother is very outstanding.] He asked another question, [What batch are you in, freshman? I don’t like community college students.] Our school has programs from community college to doctoral level. But I hadn’t expected that not only would he impersonate my brother, he would also discriminate based on education level. Didn’t he know my brother himself was a community college student? “I can’t hold back anymore.” My brother was also fuming beside me, “Don’t even mention you, I already want to take a knife to him.” My stepmom, who had been listening on the side, also pieced together the situation. “Did you offend someone? Otherwise, why would they only impersonate you and not others?” My brother said bluntly, “Don’t pull that victim-blaming stuff. I’m just eating, sleeping, and doing research. When would I have time to offend anyone?” I nodded vigorously in agreement. “Then how do you explain this?” my stepmom asked. “I’m being impersonated and you want me to provide evidence? What kind of injustice is this? I’m more wronged than Dou E,” my brother shouted angrily at the sky. He suddenly lowered his head, looking a bit dejected. “No wonder I haven’t had a girlfriend in all these years of college. Has this impersonator taken all my potential girlfriends?!” My stepmom and I burst out laughing. I comforted my brother. “Once school starts, everything will be clear.”

At the welcome party, my brother was giving a speech as a representative of the graduate students. I specifically sent a message to the scammer. [Lucas, I see you, you’re so handsome!] That scammer, either stupid or dumb, replied without hesitation while my brother was still speaking on stage. [Of course] I hadn’t had time to laugh when I felt a chill. I turned around to see the instructor behind me, looking at me coldly. The welcome party was held during our Freshman Orientation Week, and we weren’t allowed to bring phones, even at night. However, my brother insisted I take photos for him to show off, so I secretly brought it. There were quite a few people who brought phones to the event. As long as it wasn’t too blatant, everyone turned a blind eye, including the instructors. But I don’t know why the instructor singled me out among all the people. “How many times have I said, no phones allowed. Give it to me, you can get it back after the party is over.” I handed my phone to the instructor, left with no choice but to stare blankly at my brother on stage. School had just started, how had I already made enemies? Olivia sat down in the empty seat beside me. “Ava, did I miss anything interesting?” Olivia was my roommate, a cute girl, though her style was a bit outdoorsy. I didn’t mind that. My dad had stressed a million times that I should get along well with my roommates, otherwise even he, as the dean, couldn’t help me. “You missed quite a show.” Olivia paused slightly, “What show?” “The show of the instructor confiscating my phone,” I was bitter, poor little me. Olivia smiled, with a hint of sweetness. “Don’t worry Ava, Instructor Ethan is very nice. He’ll give it back to you later. Besides, we’re college students now, not middle or high school students. They shouldn’t be confiscating phones anymore.” I nodded. My brother came off stage and immediately pulled out his phone, probably wanting to ask me for his handsome photos so he could post them on social media and show off.

When the instructor returned my phone to me, it was already late at night. As a small punishment, he only gave it back during room inspection. He also said something out of the blue. “You’re so young, don’t get involved in those messy things.” I nodded and took the phone, my two big ears letting his words go in one and out the other. I just took it as a lecture and didn’t take it to heart. Another roommate, however, listened very carefully. Emma echoed the instructor, saying, “The instructor is right. Some people are poor but have no dignity, getting involved in all sorts of messy things, making people think they’re so hardworking.” The instructor gave her a stern look. “Don’t cause trouble, get along well with your roommates. You still have four years together.” I turned on my phone, which was already out of battery. As soon as I plugged it in, I immediately messaged my brother. Sure enough, my narcissistic brother had already sent hundreds of messages, asking me to quickly send him the photos. [What photos? The instructor took my phone away before I could take any] [What’s your instructor’s name?] I suddenly understood what my brother wanted to do. The instructors at our school, except for a few higher-ups, were all student officers from the school. They were veterans who had returned to school, with military training experience, but essentially still students. Perhaps my brother knew some of them. [What, trying to pull strings for your little sister?] Seeing me tease him, my brother didn’t hold back either. [My sister is strong and brave, resourceful and clever. I’m sure she looks down on her brother’s back door.] [No, I’m begging you!!!] We always joked around like this when talking. As I was sending messages, I laughed out loud. Emma, however, snorted coldly. “Don’t bring that smile you use to attract customers into the dorm. It’s a bad influence.”

I turned my head to look. Emma was folding clothes and organizing her wardrobe, seemingly not chatting with anyone else. “Are you talking about me?” I asked her. Emma paused slightly, then continued her actions. “Whoever reacts strongly is who I’m talking about.” I even started to wonder if I had offended this sister somehow, but I had only been in school for three days, with Freshman Orientation Week starting on the first day. How could there be such deep grudges already? Anyone would think I had a feud with her in a past life. Olivia came into the room carrying a water bottle, seemingly sensing that the atmosphere in the dorm wasn’t right. “You two… what’s wrong?” Emma laughed coldly without saying anything. Olivia tried to mediate, “Natalie couldn’t come to school because of COVID prevention measures, right? But it seems her packages will arrive tomorrow. She wants us to help her pick them up.” Natalie, bed three, couldn’t return to school because of a COVID outbreak in her hometown before the semester started. I nodded in agreement, but before I could say “okay,” Emma circled back to the previous topic. “The two of us can go. We shouldn’t let certain people go. Who knows, they might be infected without even knowing it.” I put my phone on the desk, not caring about my brother who was still clamoring. “Emma, if you have something to say, just say it directly. Don’t beat around the bush here.” Just as Emma’s anger was about to fully ignite, Olivia stopped her again. “Emma, it’s too late. You two shouldn’t argue.” Being stopped, Emma was like a dog held back by its owner, becoming even more reckless and arrogant. “Me, arguing? If the instructor hadn’t said anything today, I would have still thought of her as a goddess. Looking good but doing these things, aren’t you ashamed?” Instructor, I heard this word and wondered if the instructor confiscating my phone tonight was for some other reason. Olivia continued to persuade her, “Alright, Emma. We have to gather early tomorrow. Let’s go to sleep.” I held back my anger and got into bed. In the Freshman Orientation Week group chat, I found the instructor Ethan who had confiscated my phone today. I sent a friend request. The instructor hadn’t accepted me yet when that impersonator appeared again. [Freshman, are you guys in Freshman Orientation Week? Don’t get too tanned, I, Lucas, don’t like dark skin] I held my forehead and sighed. This guy, impersonating someone else, always had the other person’s name on his lips. Which normal person would constantly say their own name?! I ignored him. I continued to joke with my brother. [Big bro, do you have anything going on tomorrow?] My brother had always been hardworking. He was probably still in the study room at this hour, and likely wouldn’t have any free time tomorrow either. But these days of the enemy being in the dark and me in the light were really too uncomfortable. [Nothing, what’s up] My brother sent another picture, a screenshot of a chat record. At the top of the photo was the name of the chat partner, “Ethan.” In the chat record, my brother used all the flowery language he could muster in his life to describe me as a delicate flower who was bullied and in poor health. Ethan also repeatedly promised that he would definitely protect me well, and that he also deeply hated campus bullying. It seems Instructor Ethan quickly succumbed to my brother’s tyranny. [Bro, I didn’t expect your skills were still sharp]

After lining up, I sensed something was off. Our class stood under the national flag for a long time. Other classes had already gone to practice marching, but we were still standing at attention. Instructor Ethan stood in front of us with his arms folded, looking at us coldly for a long time. “Other classes, nothing happens. But in our class, everything happens!” We were speechless, afraid of angering the instructor again. “How many times have I said that phones are not allowed during Freshman Orientation Week? Yet someone still brought one last night. I want you to know that you are a collective! When one person makes a mistake, the whole class is punished!” “Today our class won’t practice. We’ll just stand at attention to let you know the taste of disobeying military orders!” The back door my brother found for me, is this how it works? I really shouldn’t have trusted him. Perhaps we had been standing for too long, arousing the curiosity of other classes. A tall, slender man walked over. His military uniform fit him well and looked neat. His tanned skin made him look particularly healthy and handsome. Unlike my brother’s handsomeness, he had more of a wild and resolute air about him, as if he could wrestle with wild wolves for four or five rounds at any moment. The shoulder badges of other instructors were ordinary ones issued by the school’s “Military Enthusiasts Association.” Most of these instructors were students trained by veterans, and some had no military experience at all. But the shoulder badge of the man who walked over read: Special Forces Unit. The morning sun was not kind either. Under the sunlight, I couldn’t see very clearly, but I knew that these shoulder badges couldn’t be faked. Once used, they were real. Instructor Ethan glanced at the man and politely returned a smile. Instructor Ethan glared at us again. “What are you standing there for? Say hello to the Chief Instructor!” “Hello, Chief Instructor!” On the day of the Freshman Orientation Week opening ceremony, I was standing at the back and couldn’t see clearly who was who. I had thought the Chief Instructor would be a middle-aged person, but I didn’t expect him to be so young. The Chief Instructor laughed, showing his big white teeth, which were even more noticeable against his tanned skin. “What’s going on here, Instructor Ethan? Everyone’s playing statues here, why didn’t you invite me to join?” I heard the warning tone in his voice. The Chief Instructor was implying that Instructor Ethan wasn’t training us and was trying to slack off. Instructor Ethan heard it too and hurriedly explained. “Chief Instructor, someone in our class did something wrong last night. I’m giving them a small punishment today.” The Chief Instructor’s smile faded. “Who made the mistake? Step forward.” “Reporting, it was me.” I stepped sideways out of the formation, looking at the Chief Instructor. “What mistake did you make!” “Bringing a phone during Freshman Orientation Week!” “Ten squats!” Ten squats weren’t difficult, but we had been standing at attention for too long. Our legs had almost lost feeling. The sudden squats were something I couldn’t adapt to at all. I fainted on the seventh squat.

When I woke up, I was in the infirmary. Beside me was that tanned man, the man who had caused me to end up in the infirmary. “Student, you’re awake.” He seemed to have been watching me, observing when I would wake up. I nodded while lying on the bed. “Chief Instructor, do I need to go back for training?” He shook his head, “No need.” Great, I want to sleep, sleep to death, sleep until the end of time. Seeing me fall asleep in a second, he laughed. “You’re quite carefree. Aren’t you going to ask why I’m not letting you go?” I mumbled with my eyes closed. “Isn’t it because you caused this?” He shook my shoulder, and I opened my eyes. In front of me was a phone, with the screen showing my bed. On the bed, there was clearly a pair of men’s underwear thrown there! I widened my eyes. “My bed!?” He nodded. I finally understood, “So you pulled me out of class for this?” He nodded again. “Why are you helping me?” That pair of men’s underwear looked a bit wrinkled, not new. If Emma went back to the dorm and saw it, with her big mouth, probably the whole school would say I was a pervert. His eyes were really beautiful. I just looked for a moment and didn’t want to look away. He didn’t shy away either, looking back at me. I suddenly remembered, “You’re not the back door my brother found for me, are you?” He gave me a sincere and natural smile. “Ethan, that’s my name.”

“Could it be Emma?” After hearing all the bizarre things I told him, Ethan suspected that the person who put the men’s underwear there was my roommate Emma. The dorm keys, apart from the area aunt, were only held by the four roommates. Olivia got along well with me, and Natalie hadn’t returned to school yet, so it seemed only Emma was left. Ethan then refuted his own guess, “But if it was Emma, wouldn’t that be too much like a thief crying ‘stop thief’?” I agreed. Although Emma was always at odds with me, it was just verbal attacks. I hadn’t seen her engage in any scheming. Ethan gently patted my shoulder. “Don’t worry, your brother and I have been good friends for over ten years. I’ll help you. This kind of person is too dangerous on campus.” “Chief Instructor, I want to go back to the formation.” Ethan frowned slightly, “Are you sure?” “I’m sure.” On the field, everyone had been training for a long time and was resting in place. Seeing me return so leisurely, they seemed quite disgruntled. Emma was the first to roll her eyes at me. Olivia got up to come and greet me, but was pulled back by Emma. Ever since that pair of men’s underwear was thrown on my bed, I no longer trusted them, even Olivia who still seemed to get along with me. My spot was still empty, so I sat down. “After hooking up with this one, now hooking up with that one. Who can outlive you?” Emma was being sarcastic again. “You’d better explain clearly. Who did I hook up with?” Olivia tugged at Emma’s sleeve, “Emma, everyone’s here.” “So what if everyone’s here? It’s not like others can’t see. Fainting in front of the Chief Instructor, letting the Chief Instructor carry you out, and in a princess carry no less. Others would beg for such luck.” I gave her a cold look. “Emma, if you could carry me, you could go to the infirmary with me and enjoy an hour of air conditioning too.” Emma was certainly not happy with that. She was afraid of getting sunburned and had applied layer after layer of sunscreen. While I had comfortably enjoyed an hour of air conditioning in the infirmary.

I went to the cafeteria to get food, while they went to help Natalie pick up her packages. I originally wanted to go too, but Emma repeatedly rejected me, which actually gave me a chance to rest and eat directly. I asked for an extra chicken leg and hid in a corner to eat frantically. “Quick, look at the school’s Reddit!” The girls at the table next to me suddenly called out. The girl in pink opened her phone and looked for a while, then said in an indescribable tone, both mocking and disgusted. “Who’s so amazing that they even stole Kevin’s underwear? I’m dying of laughter hahaha” That pair of men’s underwear had been thrown away when Ethan discovered it. Even if they returned early, they wouldn’t be able to see it. We weren’t allowed to bring phones during Freshman Orientation Week. I had learned my lesson and couldn’t check the gossip immediately. It was so difficult. But with this table of gossip sisters, I turned into a mouse in a melon field. Blue girl: “Who’s Kevin? Why are the comments not pitying him but laughing at him instead?” Pink girl: “Kevin, you don’t even know him? Let me give you a hint. What’s the surname of that strictest graduate student supervisor in our graduate school?” Professor Cheng, my brother’s graduate supervisor. I had heard my brother mention that Professor Cheng had a child who was particularly troublesome and always came to the lab to bother the professor. The professor had no choice but to throw the kid to several graduate students to teach. The kid was tortured by various science and engineering experts every day, but instead of retreating, he became more and more courageous. He skipped grades one after another and was directly admitted to our school. Kevin was famous mainly because he was already a sophomore, but only sixteen years old. Stealing an upperclassman’s underwear, and still being underage. The consequences would certainly be serious. He might even be labeled as a “pervert.” My brother sent me a message on WhatsApp. [Ding ding, my beautiful, kind, and generous sister, do you have any new gossip today?] I knew my brother was talking about that impersonator. I opened the chat with the impersonator. No wonder there was no movement today. It turned out I hadn’t replied to his message last night. He was quite temperamental. I looked at that ridiculous message on the screen. [I, Lucas, don’t like dark skin.] I replied to him, [Lucas, if you want to see if I’m dark or not, you can come to the training field and take a look!] This impersonator wouldn’t dare to meet in person. If he dared to meet, I would confront him in real life. Sure enough, he replied instantly. [You’re too eager. I don’t like people who are too eager. Minus 10 points] Deducting points? This trick I’ve only seen in elementary school trendy chat videos. He sent another message. [Favorability: -10 points] Great, I’m completely defeated. I think the person on the other end is either an idiot or a complete fool. How could such a person perfectly impersonate my brother?

When I returned to the dorm, they had already brought back all the packages. Natalie wasn’t here, but there was a large pile of packages scattered around. The outer packaging looked quite luxurious, seemingly not cheap. Olivia marveled at these things. “Natalie’s family must be rich to buy so many things.” I felt Emma glance at me, “Better keep an eye on them, in case certain people steal them.” I couldn’t be bothered to explain to her. My dad is the dean of the school, my stepmom is in finance, my brother is in scientific research, and even all our distant relatives are landlords. I’m the only useless one in the whole family. [Ava, your package has arrived. Go pick it up quickly] My brother sent me a message. [What package? Why isn’t it in my name?] Our school has self-service package pickup. If it was my own package, the message should have been sent to my phone. [My mom was worried you’d be too busy with Freshman Orientation Week, so she insisted I pick it up for you. But I’m about to leave for field research with my supervisor and don’t have time to help you pick it up] [Okay] I put on my Bluetooth earphones and went out. But I could still faintly hear Emma’s unforgiving voice from inside the room. “I told you she was jealous. Now who knows which admirer she’s going to seduce to buy things for her.” My stepmom, afraid that I would be affected by that impersonator pretending to be my brother, had bought many luxury goods for me. In my stepmom’s view, if a woman has money, it can deter many people. But she overlooked one point: excessive flaunting of wealth can also invite dissatisfaction. I hugged seven or eight eye-catching luxury brand packages from LV, Gucci, Chanel… feeling particularly uncomfortable. So I asked the courier at the pickup station for a large black plastic bag, unpacked all the packaging, and stuffed everything usable into the plastic bag to carry back. When I entered the room, Emma was taking a shower, and only Olivia was eating at the table. “Ava, what are you carrying in that big bag?” I casually put it under the table, “Local specialties sent from home.” As soon as I finished speaking, the phone in my pocket rang. “Miss Li, this is the courier from just now. It seems you left one package behind. Could you come back again?” “Okay.” I hung up the phone and went out again. The sky inexplicably started drizzling, and I hadn’t brought an umbrella. I could only pull up the hood of my sweatshirt. There was a crowd of people at the entrance of the pickup station. I immediately spotted one particularly tall man wearing an army combat uniform. The courier looked at the few kids in front of him with a serious face. “Your Chief Instructor is here too. If you don’t admit your mistake, I’m really going to call the police.” I pushed through the crowd. The courier looked at me, “Miss Li, it’s like this. Your package was lost. I had just put it on the table waiting for you to come pick it up, but…” “Your package?” Ethan turned his head to look at me. Maybe it was mine, but all the package information was with my brother, so I wasn’t sure if it was mine. But since the courier had called and said it was mine, it should be correct. I nodded. Ethan handed me the tablet in his hand. This was the surveillance footage from the pickup station. Because it was raining, several cameras were particularly blurry and basically nothing could be seen. Only one was barely usable. Those with similar figures to the ones in the video were all in front of me. Ethan stood tall and straight. Just standing in front of others, he had an invisible aura of authority. He said in a cold voice, “If you took it by mistake, just return it to the other person. We won’t pursue this matter.” From the line of people, a slightly chubby girl stretched out her hand. In her palm hung a delicate diamond necklace that looked quite expensive. Ethan took the necklace from her hand, about to return it to me, when he was grabbed by the arm by that girl. “Why must it be hers? Why don’t you think it’s mine!” Everyone looked at her in surprise. The courier was particularly exasperated, saying in a somewhat mocking tone, “Can’t you read the name on the package yourself? Do you recognize the name?” The girl’s face turned red, and even the frame of her glasses was a bit crooked. “Lucas, he’s my boyfriend!” she shouted loudly. Ethan and I looked over almost at the same time. My brother, that straight-laced science guy, had the looks but not the luck in love. And even if he really was in a relationship, how could we, his closest people, not know about it? “Student, your boyfriend’s name is Lucas?” I asked. Lucas, this name was as uncommon as it could be. I hadn’t heard of a second Lucas in our school. I suddenly thought of that impersonator in my phone. Could it be that the impersonator had been scamming people in the school all along? That would be too brazen! I originally thought the impersonator would only scam for emotions or money, not possible to meet in person.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “294831”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #现实主义Realistic #励志Inspiring #浪漫Romance #魔幻Magic #校园School

Tessa Lewis, my manipulative roommate, got rejected after confessing her love to a married man. To save face, she dragged us to the underground parking lot and hugged a million-dollar sports car, claiming it was a gift from her boyfriend. Unexpectedly, a tall, handsome guy actually got out of the car and walked away with Tessa in his arms. I’m part of a very dark chat group on SnapChat. Every day, people post strange messages that seem like coded language. I only got into this group because of my brother. About a year ago, when my brother passed away, I was responsible for sorting through his belongings. He had worked at a private high school, and due to his background in psychology, he was promoted from a regular teacher to the assistant of the school’s psychology research department. He was preparing to take over from the retiring psychology professor. I don’t know much about his death, and my parents are reluctant to talk about it. All I know is that he died in a car accident. A drunk driver crashed into the school gates, and my brother pushed away a student who was about to be hit, but he never came back himself. My parents were too grief-stricken to go to the school and sort through my brother’s belongings, so I had to go and bring them back. In my brother’s notebook, I found this group number. My brother was a meticulous person with an amazing memory. He rarely wrote things down if he could remember them, so out of curiosity, I used my own account to join the group. It’s a chat group called “Cats,” but they rarely talk about cats. Many people use obscure language, as if they’re speaking in code. Until one day, the group finally posted a message I could understand. It was a photo of a girl with an amazing figure, wearing a sexy black lace outfit. There was a crimson birthmark on her chest, barely visible but incredibly alluring. The background was blurred, but you could make out that it was a bathroom because of the obvious yellow-gray drainage pipe behind her. “Group admin recalled a message” This message suddenly flashed, and the picture disappeared. As I stared at the now-empty chat box, a voice like thunder from a clear sky came from behind me: “Amber Gordon, what are you doing here?” I turned off my screen and looked back. It was my roommate, Tessa Lewis. “Tessa, you scared me to death. Can’t you make some noise when you walk?” Tessa casually switched her handbag to her other hand. It was a popular LV counter item. She used her free hand to adjust her freshly curled waves. “Who knows what guilty thing you’re doing here? My heels are so loud, how did you not hear them?” Her words guided my eyes downward. She was wearing a pair of YSL super killer heels. Black heel with a striking logo. Expensive, but not comfortable, yet very eye-catching. I put my phone in my pocket and crossed my arms, looking her up and down. She was obviously uncomfortable with my scrutiny and glared at me. “What are you looking at? Never seen designer brands before?” “Tessa, you know they’re designer brands? When you were fighting for Melody Parker’s scholarship, didn’t you cry to our homeroom teacher saying your family couldn’t even afford a TV?” The motion-sensor lights in the hallway were triggered by my voice, lighting up a whole row. I caught a glimpse of our dorm door opening, with half a head peeking out, but I couldn’t see whose it was. Her demeanor weakened a bit, but she still maintained an inexplicable air of arrogance. “It’s not my fault if she couldn’t get it. What’s that got to do with me?” “Right, it’s not your fault. Who could be as capable as you, crying to the homeroom teacher, saying your mom has heart disease and your dad is disabled, and that you couldn’t even provide proof?”

After starting college, I picked an easy job. Since our school had a student who committed suicide due to mental health issues, the school paid extra attention to mental health. I managed to snag this easy job and became a student counselor. When it was time to evaluate scholarships, I was in the homeroom teacher’s office filling out forms for the psychology department. Perhaps because I was hiding behind another teacher’s desk writing at the time, Tessa didn’t notice me when she came in that day. She’s very beautiful, with a hot body, and has many pursuers behind her, but she always maintains an ambiguous relationship with them. When Tessa ran into the homeroom teacher’s office wearing a little camisole, the teacher was about to publicize the list of financially disadvantaged students. Tessa didn’t sit in the guest chair opposite the teacher’s desk, but went directly behind the desk and started massaging the teacher’s shoulders. “Mr. Quinn, are you going to publish the list?” The teacher, tired from a long day, didn’t refuse her advances and seemed to enjoy it quite a bit. “What’s up? Do you have any suggestions?” “I don’t have any suggestions. It’s just that I forgot to submit my application form. Is it too late now?” For the financially disadvantaged student scholarship, you need to first be certified as financially disadvantaged. I remember when Melody Parker was writing her application for financial aid, Tessa was mocking her on the side, saying you could find plenty of these things online, why bother writing it yourself? After Melody finished writing her application, she went to take a shower. Tessa took the application and read it for quite a while. Seeing that no one in the dorm was paying attention to her, she took a photo of it and sent it somewhere. I listened carefully and was surprised to hear the teacher agree. Tessa pushed further, saying, “Mr. Quinn, there’s not enough time. Why don’t you publish the list first, and I’ll tell you about my special circumstances tonight~” The seductive tone at the end was captivating. Then, Tessa made up a bunch of “reasons for poverty,” even bringing up nonsense like her parents being sick. Just like that, Melody Parker’s spot was replaced by Tessa. No one knew about this except me.

Melody Parker came out of the dorm room. She pulled my hand and whispered, “Amber, stop arguing with her. Let’s go back to our room.” Tessa grabbed my arm, “Don’t go. Tell me what you mean. Don’t try to frame me!” “Whether it’s framing or not, you know it yourself.” With that, I followed Melody back to our dorm. The atmosphere in the dorm was tense for a long time. No one spoke, and no one paid attention to Tessa frantically changing clothes in front of the mirror. Her phone rang. Because she had so many pursuers, almost all of her ringtones were specific. This ringtone was unfamiliar. I also have a keen sense like my brother, at least able to memorize many unique things in a short time, like Tessa’s annoying ringtones. This ringtone, I definitely hadn’t heard before. She answered the phone, calling out in a coquettish voice: “Brother Donnie~ Are you thinking about me so late at night~” After that, it was all sickly sweet talk, but you could feel more that Tessa was humbly pleasing this “Brother Donnie.” “Okay, then I’ll sneak out to see you tonight.” This was Tessa’s closing line. After saying that, she left. Seeing that Tessa had gone far, Melody took an apple, put it on my desk, and started asking about Tessa stealing the scholarship. In our dorm, when we discuss Tessa, there’s always endless topics, from her personality, way of doing things, speech and manner, dressing style, and all kinds of eye-opening trashy behaviors. Before we knew it, it was half past one in the morning. My phone ringtone interrupted our late-night chat session. It was our homeroom teacher. “Is Tessa from your dorm not back yet?” I pretended to be completely unaware, my voice full of drowsiness, completely acting as if I had just been woken up: “Teacher, she was still here before I went to sleep. What’s wrong? Do you want me to call her?” The teacher impatiently said, “No need.” Melody worriedly asked, “Amber, should we ask Tessa? I hope nothing happened…” Melody reminded me that I’m the student counselor. It was originally a cushy job that could add points to my record. Thanks to Tessa for adding so much challenge to my work. As her roommate, if something happened, my cushy job as a student counselor would fly away like a cooked duck. I called Tessa, but she didn’t answer. I called again, still no answer. After repeating this three or four times with no one answering, I had to give up. At five in the morning, I was woken up by the phone ringing. It was Tessa. “Sis, did you not come back to the dorm all night just to wake me up at this hour?” On the other end of the phone, Tessa mumbled drunkenly, “You’re the class representative, come pick me up.” “Where am I supposed to pick you up from? I don’t even have a leave slip. I don’t want to risk getting disciplined.” “I don’t care, you’re the class rep, you have to come pick me up.” I hung up the phone and prepared to go back to sleep, but Melody woke me up again: “Amber, let’s go check on her. I hope nothing happened.” I turned over to continue sleeping: “She’s a grown-up, she should learn to take responsibility for herself.” Our other roommate seemed to have been persuaded by Melody too: “Amber, after all, she’s still our roommate. Let’s go check on her. If something happens, we still have to live here, and it would be scary if something happened to her.” As a firm materialist, I’m not afraid of ghosts or spirits, but I’m afraid of these two idiots nagging in my ear.

According to Tessa’s location, we arrived at the third floor of “Desire KTV.” Tessa was slumped in the corner of the private room. It seemed everyone else had left, with only Tessa lying listlessly on the sofa. Melody shook her for a long time but couldn’t wake her up. I went to get a cup of water from the bathroom and splashed it on her. She woke up groggily, mumbling, “So what if you have a wife? You still come to me every day anyway.” The three of us looked at each other, pretty much guessing what had happened. It seemed that this “Brother Donnie” was a married man who had an affair with Tessa. Tessa really thought he considered her his sweetheart, constantly trying to please him, but ended up being dumped after he was done with her. She rambled on for a while, not saying anything good. I got impatient and retorted, “Who told you to be the other woman? Who are you blaming?” She weakly pushed me, “Who asked you to nag? I have plenty of men.” She pulled our arms, making us follow her to a bright but oppressive underground parking garage. The brightness here was uncomfortable. There was a ceiling light every few meters, extremely bright under the lights, but quite dark between two light points at the extreme. Tessa suddenly pounced on a flashy purple supercar, rubbing her body against the car’s hood. Because she was wearing a super short skirt, if she moved forward a bit more, she would be exposing herself. I pulled her arm, “Come on, let’s go back to school. Stop being crazy.” “I’m not crazy,” she shook off my hand and continued to embrace the supercar, “This is a Bugatti my boyfriend gave me!” “Okay, okay, your boyfriend gave it to you. Can we go back to school now, sis?!” I was already exhausted and had to deal with a drunk person here. “Yes, my boyfriend is so handsome. You’re just jealous.” “Alright, alright. Your boyfriend is a 6’3″ muscle man who’ll give you a billion dollars in cash tomorrow. Happy?” Before I could pull her away, the supercar door opened. Long legs touched the ground first, then a man about 6’3″ tall, wearing a dark suit, stepped out. He was wearing a white mask, revealing fair skin and handsome features, full of mystery. He lowered his head slightly and said to me, “This is my girlfriend. Why don’t I take her home?” I cautiously extended my arm, separating the man from us, but the drunk Tessa, like a mare in heat seeing a stallion, and a racehorse at that, became unstoppable. She pushed away my arm and hugged the handsome stranger in front of her, slurring seductively, “Handsome, you’re my boyfriend. Take me home quickly.” I tugged at Tessa’s arm, but it didn’t budge. The handsome guy picked Tessa up in his arms and said to us, “I’ll take my girlfriend home first, and send her to your school tomorrow.” My phone in my pocket vibrated a few times. Through my smartwatch, I saw the content of the message. It was a message from the “Cats” group. Someone who usually had a good private relationship with the group admin posted a message, [If the Cat Boss doesn’t find the little fish today, what fun will we have?]. By the time I came to my senses, the man had already put Tessa into the supercar. “Hey, do you know her name?!” I shouted as I ran to the car window. He smiled, “I really don’t know…” The supercar accelerated quickly. By the time he flew out of the parking lot with the car, I realized that Tessa had fallen into a tiger’s den.

In the “Cats” chat group. The group admin posted a message. [Got the fish.] This message was too coincidental, so coincidental that I couldn’t help but connect these two events. While I asked my roommate to call the police, I kept calling Tessa’s phone. Tessa’s number was a campus card, with a dynamic video of a famous scenic spot in our province as the ringtone. The video kept looping, but the call never connected. The situation had escalated. The three of us sat numbly in the police station’s reception room, with our homeroom teacher sitting opposite us, his face gloomy. Mr. Quinn suddenly looked up, his eagle-like eyes staring straight at us. He warned, “Amber Gordon, listen to me. If anything happens to Tessa, see if I don’t give you a disciplinary record!” The policewoman hit him on the shoulder with a folder, “This is a police station, mind your manners.” The policewoman smiled professionally at me, “Don’t be afraid. We’ll bring this girl back as soon as possible. We’re just asking you for routine inquiries, don’t be nervous. Amber, right? You come first.” Since we were the ones reporting the case, we didn’t go into the small dark room I had imagined, but into a clean and bright office. A middle-aged police officer was standing in front of the desk, holding a cup of tea. When he saw me come in, he was very welcoming. “Little sister, sit on the sofa. Don’t be nervous. My name is Henry Johnson. You can call me Uncle Henry.” I had heard from my brother that in psychology, to get closer to someone’s heart more quickly, you usually try to close the relationship between you, reduce the sense of distance, to achieve the purpose of relaxation. I sat on the sofa and nodded to him, “Okay, Uncle Henry.” Detective Johnson kept asking about things between me and Tessa. After all, I was the class student counselor. Even if I didn’t get along with Tessa, I wouldn’t completely fall out with her. Tessa had a difficult personality, but I was the only one in the class who could talk to her for more than a few sentences. That being said, I didn’t know her very well either. After I mentioned that Tessa had unclear relationships with her friends, Detective Johnson became interested. “You say Tessa has many social friends?” I nodded, “She has many male friends, and the relationships are all unclear and messy.” Detective Johnson asked, “Do you know which male friend she was closest to?” I shook my head, “She rarely tells us these things. Only when she’s bragging about who gave her what gift does she mention a few names.” After asking what needed to be asked, Detective Johnson propped both hands on the wooden desk, pondered for a moment, then told me, “That’s all. You can go now.” I suddenly remembered that group full of coincidences. Maybe it could help uncover the truth about my brother’s death. I put my phone on the desk. I had already turned off the internet and even turned on airplane mode. Detective Johnson looked at the group chat messages on the screen, slowly frowning, looking at me with confusion and shock. I pointed to the last message [Got the fish]. “This message came shortly after Tessa got in the car. It’s too coincidental… I… I decided to show you.” Detective Johnson leaned close to his shoulder radio, contacting his other colleagues: “Little Xu, ask the tech department to come over.” They copied all the information from my phone. To avoid alerting anyone, they needed me to cooperate with the investigation and continue to lurk in the group.

Tessa had been out of contact for exactly three hours. All kinds of thoughts kept surging in my mind. Three hours is enough time to do anything. Even a bull could be dissected by now. My two roommates had already fallen asleep leaning on each other, leaving only me still staring at my phone in the police station. Mr. Quinn seemed to casually get up and pace over to sit beside me. He looked around, making sure the police were far from us, before asking, “Why haven’t you mentioned this group before?” Actually, Detective Johnson had told us all to go home and wait for news. But Mr. Quinn didn’t want to leave. As the primary person responsible, if anything happened to Tessa, he couldn’t escape responsibility. As students under our homeroom teacher, we didn’t know whether we should leave or not, so we just stayed here with him. He must have only heard about the group from the discussions of other police officers. I was about to turn off my phone screen, but he quickly slapped my phone away. Because of the low battery, the screen had automatically dimmed, but you could still see a message that popped up. It was a picture. My phone data had already been synchronized by the police, and Detective Johnson asked us to come over to identify it as soon as he saw the photo. In the photo was a woman wearing revealing clothes. Her chestnut-colored waves covered her face, but Mr. Quinn recognized her at a glance. “It’s Tessa!” At this moment, he no longer had any intention of hiding his shame. He just wanted to find Tessa. Facing the sidelong glances of several police officers, the homeroom teacher didn’t hesitate. Pointing at the chest area of the image on the big screen, where there was a crimson birthmark, he said, “Tessa has a birthmark here. It must be her!” The tech department had already contacted SnapChat officials and retrieved all the information from the group. Detective Johnson asked me as usual, “Miss Gordon, see if there’s anything missing?” I was about to shake my head when I suddenly remembered the photo that had been recalled. I pointed between two messages, “Here, there was a photo that was recalled.” I recalled that unique crimson birthmark on her chest, and I was absolutely certain: “Uncle Henry, it must be Tessa. Both photos are nude pictures of Tessa.” Mr. Quinn was obviously stunned, and even Detective Johnson couldn’t help but frown. Detective Johnson put down the printed chat records in his hand: “How can you be so sure?” I tried my best to recall that photo, the black lace dress in the image floating in my mind, as well as the blurry water pipes in the background: “It’s in the bathroom of Teaching Building B. The fixtures there are old, and only that place has that kind of pipes.” I called my boyfriend, Finn. At this time, he should be in Economics class on the third floor of Teaching Building B. “Finn, go to the bathroom quickly.” I briefly told him about the photo I wanted, and although he was confused, he didn’t refuse. After about two minutes, Finn sent the photo, the last stall in the men’s bathroom. The gray-yellow drainage pipes, the dim light, and that smell you could almost sense through the screen. I handed the photo to Detective Johnson: “The background of the photo was like this, with a girl in front wearing a black lace camisole dress.” Mr. Quinn squeezed between us, even snatching my phone from my hand to look carefully. After a while, he threw the phone back to me: “Impossible, impossible!” A female police officer pulled the somewhat out-of-control homeroom teacher to the side: “Mr. Quinn, please calm down.” Mr. Quinn, a young man, strong and vigorous, now looked like an aged old man, breathing rapidly, desperately hoping to fill his nostrils with air. “This is impossible, this is impossible!” Mr. Quinn stared straight at me: “You’re talking nonsense. Lin Lin’s photos couldn’t possibly appear in these places!” Detective Johnson seemed to know something and tilted his head to ask, “Mr. Quinn, how can you be so sure?” “Because… because…” Mr. Quinn hesitated for a long time, still unable to spit out a complete sentence. Detective Johnson reminded him in a stern tone: “Mr. Quinn, now Tessa is missing and her life is in danger. If you don’t speak up, it might slow down the investigation progress.” “Henry, the traffic police department has sent over the surveillance footage, but that car had fake plates. We can’t trace the owner through the license plate.” Seemingly aware that the surveillance video was now in the hands of the police, Mr. Quinn’s dark pupils lowered, pondering whether to spill everything. Detective Johnson also read Mr. Quinn’s eye expression and continued to warn: “You are Tessa’s teacher. You should be more aware than us of how big an impact this incident has on the students, parents, school, and society.” Detective Johnson went with others to check the surveillance footage, leaving a female police officer to guide Mr. Quinn to tell the truth. Standing on the side, looking at the hesitant homeroom teacher, I decided to give him one last push. “Teacher, you must have guessed it too, right? Tessa didn’t just send you this photo, so why are you still covering for her?” Mr. Quinn and Tessa had confirmed their relationship at the beginning of the school year. During the freshman orientation week, Tessa pretended to be sick multiple times, making the counselor come to take care of her. Tessa was beautiful and excellent at pleasing people. As they interacted more, Mr. Quinn fell for her too. Due to their special status, they didn’t make their relationship public, always maintaining a teacher-student relationship. However, they were very intimate when chatting online. So intimate that… they exchanged private photos.

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When an arranged marriage was about to happen in a wealthy family, the real daughter showed up. She claimed the billionaire parents were hers. She claimed the rising star fiancé in the business world was hers. I just nodded and smiled. If it weren’t for my lucky koi fish constitution… Are you sure her family is really that wealthy? Could this fiancé really have become such a success on his own? My wedding to my childhood sweetheart was just around the corner when an unexpected visitor showed up at our house. She claimed to be my mother’s long-lost biological daughter and accused me of being an imposter who had stolen her life. She and my mom even did a DNA test, which confirmed their biological relationship. That night at dinner, Luna slammed her fork down and pointed at me, yelling, “You need to leave this house right now! You’re not welcome here anymore!” My mom frowned and said softly, “Luna, don’t be so rude to your sister. Even if Rachel isn’t my biological daughter, I still raised her.” Luna immediately threw her bowl on the ground and burst into tears, burying her face in my mom’s chest. She sobbed about how difficult her life had been, growing up all alone. By the end, my mom’s eyes were red as she comforted Luna, saying she had suffered so much. “But Rachel isn’t really part of our family,” Luna insisted. “She shouldn’t have our last name or live in our house!” My mom frowned but didn’t say anything. I finished my last bite of shrimp and stood up. “If that’s how it is, I’ll move out for now so you can spend time with Mom.” Luna glared at me. My mom looked heartbroken as she slipped a credit card into my hand. “The PIN is your birthday,” she whispered. Luna saw this and started crying even harder. I called Luna’s brother – or I guess my brother now. Apparently when we were born, the nurse had mixed us up. When he answered, a cultured male voice said, “Who is this?” “I’m your sister – the one you’ve never met but who shares your blood. Any chance you could come pick me up?” Half an hour later, a car pulled up outside. Luna shoved me out the door. “Hurry up and leave. Don’t come back!” My mom kept telling me to take care of myself. I looked at this stranger who was supposedly my brother as he helpfully put my luggage in the car. Turning back, I gave a cold smile to the smug-looking Luna. “I hope you’re prepared. Don’t regret this.” Then I got in the car with my newfound brother. As he drove, he kept glancing over at me. “My place is pretty small. I hope you won’t mind.” “Of course not. We’re siblings after all – we have to support each other!” I said with a bright smile. We pulled up to an apartment building with no elevator, so we had to walk up. My brother was carrying my suitcase when he got a phone call just as we reached the door. After listening for a moment, a huge grin spread across his face and he started thanking the caller profusely. “What happened?” I asked when he hung up. “A small program I wrote just won an international gold award. The prize is about $100,000!” I smiled and congratulated him. “I can’t believe it,” he said excitedly. “I knew the winner for this competition was usually predetermined, so I just entered to get my name out there. But the expected winner dropped out, and I actually won!” He ushered me inside, still beaming. I wasn’t surprised by this turn of events. Ever since I was little, I’ve had incredible luck that seemed to rub off on those around me too. My luck has always been unbelievable. As a kid, I could ace multiple choice tests with my eyes closed. Finding money on the ground when I was thirsty and wanted ice cream was a regular occurrence. Once when I was young, I bought a lottery ticket on a whim and won $30 million. My parents invested that money, and I decided to buy some stocks too just for fun. Those stocks skyrocketed, making us a fortune. From then on, my parents’ business flourished. Even my childhood sweetheart rode the wave of success, becoming a rising star in the business world. I patted my brother’s shoulder. “You’re going to be even richer in the future.” He nodded with a grin, promising to treat me to a fancy dinner once the prize money came through. True to his word, he took me out to celebrate as soon as the money hit his account. He told me about work that day – how everyone else had been slacking off, but the boss caught him working hard and was planning to give him a promotion and raise. “Rachel, why has my luck been so amazing lately?” he wondered aloud. We went to an upscale restaurant, and just after ordering, I ran into some familiar faces – my ex-fiancé Zachary and Luna. Luna looked startled to see me, then angrily pointed at my brother. “Matthew, what’s the meaning of this? You never took me to places like this before!” I grabbed her finger and bent it back until she gasped in pain. “Because we’re real siblings,” I said sweetly. I only let go when Luna’s face had gone pale from the pain. “Long time no see, Rachel,” Zachary greeted me. Luna immediately latched onto his arm. “You’re MY fiancé now. Why are you talking to her?” Zachary glanced at me awkwardly as he gently pushed Luna away. “I was engaged to Rachel. Even if you’re Mr. Lee’s real daughter, that doesn’t change our engagement.” Luna’s expression froze, her eyes filling with tears. “Why? She stole everything from me! My parents should be mine, and you should be mine too!” I chuckled softly at her dramatics and sat back down. Luna threw herself into a chair, sobbing. Zachary looked between us uncertainly, clearly torn. “Rachel, did your aunt and uncle really kick you out?” he asked. I nodded. “Why else would I be out to dinner with my brother?” Zachary’s expression tightened, and he slowly moved towards Luna. Of course – he still needed the Lee family’s support for his business. And I was no longer the daughter of the wealthy Lee family. Seeing Zachary come over, Luna finally stopped crying and shot me a smug look. After dinner, I took my brother to buy a lottery ticket. I was looking for the one with the biggest jackpot. He laughed and teased me. “Rachel, don’t try to get rich quick. You have to work hard to earn money.” “I know, but sometimes luck beats hard work,” I replied. And luck was definitely one of my talents. I spent $20 on a ticket. A week later when the numbers were drawn, I had won! After taxes and donating some to charity, I walked away with $15 million. Matthew’s jaw dropped. “Are you some kind of lucky charm reincarnated?” To be honest, I’ve wondered about that myself. It’s entirely possible. Without hesitation, I bought a mansion across the street from the Lee family and happily moved in. The dog that had been in Luna’s arms immediately ran over to me, tail wagging furiously. “What are you doing back at my house? Get out!” Luna shouted angrily. I pointed at the mansion across the street. “Actually, that’s my new house!” Luna couldn’t believe it until I waved the deed in her face. My parents weren’t surprised at all. After all, their initial success had come from a scratch-off lottery ticket I bought on a whim as a child.

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I Climbed into the Bully’s Bed, Actively Pleasing Him, Just to Gain His Trust. To Make Him Pay with His Life. I was an accidental product of my parents. My father was an alcoholic, and my mother abandoned me early on. When I was five, my father died of alcohol poisoning, and I was sent to foster care. At six, the well-dressed Liam Foster stood in front of me. His eyes were contemptuous as he pointed at me crouching on the ground: “Let’s take her.” At that time, I didn’t understand what this meant. The foster care worker told me I could have a good life from now on. She didn’t lie to me. After coming to the Foster family, I could have whatever I wanted. Exquisite clothes, limited edition dolls, high-end meals… But I lost the one thing that was worthless – my dignity.

Mrs. Foster raised me well. At just 16, I became the perfect lady in the eyes of all the wealthy women in the city. I was their ideal choice for a daughter-in-law. A perfect doll without a temper, to be manipulated at will. On the night of Liam’s 18th birthday party, I had just entered the room when a strong hand suddenly grabbed my arm. Then a familiar scent hit me. Through the moonlight, I looked up to see Liam, who was a head taller than me. Liam had never liked me, and I always tried to minimize my presence around him. I lowered my head timidly: “Brother, do you need something?” Liam’s eyes were filled with undisguised disgust: “Don’t look at me like that.” I knew it was because of my existence. Liam felt that the unique love that belonged to him was divided, He despised me. Liam’s hand suddenly wandered to my neck, He lowered his head, and then a warm, stinging sensation came. I covered the red mark on my neck, looking at Liam in front of me in horror. It seemed that from that day on, He had opened Pandora’s box, taking pleasure in tormenting me and making me uncomfortable.

In high school, I entered one of the top private schools in the city. The students there were either rich or noble. Perhaps because of Liam, everyone knew I was adopted by the Foster family. Even though I tried hard to lower my presence, I still couldn’t escape their bullying. “Brother, please tell them not to touch me! Please!” “Don’t call me brother!” My body was firmly pressed down by four strong students. While Liam just hugged the prom queen on his body, looking at me coldly. He glanced at my torn uniform, his eyes flashing with contempt. “Don’t worry, I wouldn’t dare without Mother’s orders.” I was almost desperate. Liam thought I had stolen all his mother’s love. But he didn’t know at all that my existence was just to marry into a higher-status family, paving the way for his future. I felt the clothes on my body peeling off layer by layer. My tears had completely dried up, and I gave up struggling completely. It’s fine, maybe Mrs. Foster would give up on this useless pawn. “So many people bullying one girl? That doesn’t seem right, does it?” All eyes were drawn to the source of the voice. Sunlight filtered through the layers of leaves, shining on Noah Parker’s smiling face. He seemed to have just woken up, his uniform was a bit wrinkled, and his hair was messy. This was the first time I saw Noah, a boy even more handsome than Liam. In this school, it was the first time someone dared to openly contradict Liam’s words. “If you know what’s good for you, get lost.” Liam squatted beside me, took a drag of his cigarette and blew the smoke in my face. I coughed and sneezed, looking pathetic. Noah didn’t say anything, he just walked straight to me. He put his jacket over me. “Are you going to let go, or do I have to make you?” The boys looked at each other, then burst into laughter. The next second, Noah’s fist landed on their faces. He grabbed my hand: “Run!” For the first time, I wanted to resist. Ignoring Liam’s warning behind me, I ran wildly following Noah’s footsteps.

That day when I got home. I saw Liam barbecuing in the yard with Mia Anderson and his group of friends. I ran to the basement wine cellar. Only here could they not find me. But I didn’t expect that this decision would plunge me into an endless abyss. “Liam! Why did you reject me! You know I like you so much!” It was Mia’s voice! Out of fear, I froze my body, shrinking in the corner, not daring to move. “I just see you as a sister.” I had thought they were in a relationship! After all, I had seen them kissing in front of me before! — At night, my door was pushed open. I was awakened by the pain on my body. It was Liam! His eyes were a bit hazy, obviously not in a normal state. “Brother, let me go! I’m Chloe!” But he couldn’t hear any sound at all. My tears dried up, and my throat was hoarse from crying. Mrs. Foster was out of the country, and there was no one in the whole Foster house who could save me. The next day Liam sobered up. He looked at the messy room, the bloodstains on the bed, and the hideous red marks on my body, and immediately understood. Without any remorse. He just said lightly: “Clean up quickly, don’t let Mom find out.” I laughed. “Apologize!” Liam sneered, his contemptuous eyes scanning me from head to toe: “Chloe, you’re just a toy my family bought. You’re not even human, and you want my apology?” He pushed my body away and left the room. When I arrived at school, I saw him under his school uniform, a beast in human clothing, without any guilt. But because of his one night of madness. I was directly grabbed by the hair by several of Mia’s female companions and dragged into the bathroom. Mia slapped me without saying a word, cursing with filthy and dirty words. “Bitch! Who told you to seduce Liam!” “He broke into my room!” Mia didn’t listen to my explanation at all. She tore at my clothes, using her phone to take pictures of my naked body. “Get lost if you don’t want to die!” It was Noah’s voice. He rushed in front of me, avoiding eye contact with me, and once again covered my defeated body with his uniform. “Hand over the phone.” “Noah, this is the girls’ bathroom!” “Mia, don’t make me hit a woman!” Mia looked at me with a hateful face, but she obediently handed over the phone. Noah threw it into the toilet and flushed it away in front of us, then hugged me and left.

Noah took me to the infirmary. I clutched the clothes on my body tightly. Unwilling to let Noah see those shameful marks. “It’s not your fault.” “Huh?” This was the first time in my life that someone told me it wasn’t my fault. Even after experiencing such a thing, suffering such harm. The first reaction in my mind was if only I had locked my door tighter. If only I wasn’t in the room. If only… “The ones who made mistakes are them, the abusers will never think they’re wrong. Chloe, you did nothing wrong. Don’t be ashamed of the scars on your body, those who should be ashamed of seeing these wounds are them, not you.” Without waiting for my response, Applause sounded at the door. With a man’s usual mockery: “Chloe, I was wondering why you’ve been so bold lately, turns out you have a backer.” I followed Liam’s gaze, Found that he was staring intently at the marks he had left on my body. Noah held my hand. His hand was very large, able to completely wrap around mine. He seemed to be continuously transmitting his own courage into my body. I found that I dared to look directly into Liam’s eyes. My reaction seemed to anger Liam. His upturned phoenix eyes were filled with malice. But due to Noah’s presence, he didn’t say much more before leaving.

After returning home, as expected. Mrs. Foster knew about this. She tore open my clothes and slapped me across the face without a word. “Chloe! Is this how you repay me for raising you!” Liam’s smile froze. He seemed not to have expected that Mrs. Foster, who had always been kind to me, would hit me so hard. Completely different from the gentle mother in his memory. I just laughed coldly. This was the norm of my life. But when she heard Noah’s name, her smile at the corners of her mouth became more obvious. She walked up to me and grabbed my hand. “You really are my good daughter.” Even though her hand was warm, I only felt endless coldness. Liam also seemed to understand something at this moment. The look in his eyes towards me became complicated Perhaps because of Mrs. Foster’s instructions, Since that incident. Liam and Mia never bullied me again. That day I received a text message from Noah. He told me to meet him in the art room after school. I didn’t think much and went straight in. I didn’t see Noah, but soon smelled a strong smoke. I wanted to get out, but found that all the doors and windows were locked. The smoke was thick, and my breathing was already becoming rapid. I saw Liam and Mia’s faces outside the window. I knew they wanted me dead! In a daze, I saw a white figure appear in front of me. It was Noah! — When I woke up again, it was three days later. I heard the news of Noah’s death. I couldn’t believe it. How could Noah possibly be dead? This must be a joke, right? I wanted to rush out of the room, but was blocked by Mia. She smiled at me and leaned close to my ear. “Noah died horribly, he rushed into the fire to save you, but stupidly tried to take out those paintings. But I also helped you fulfill his last wish. I took the paintings away for him in advance.” I knew what those paintings meant to Noah! They were his life’s work! I grabbed Mia’s hair like a madwoman: “Go to hell!” Mrs. Foster didn’t expect that I, who had always been docile, would react like this. She slapped me across the face and told me to apologize to Mia. And I could only apologize to this murderer! From that day on, I began my revenge plan.

I didn’t stay in the city for college. I started investigating Liam’s preferences and aesthetics. Completely transforming myself into the perfect lover in his mind. When I appeared in front of him again, it was already my senior year of college, I returned to the city for an internship, Seeing Liam’s eyes gradually becoming infatuated with me, I knew my years of planning had succeeded. In the end, I married him as I wished. “Silly girl, what are you looking at?” I stared at those eyes: “I don’t eat beef.” Liam’s expression stiffened, and he almost instinctively threw the cooked steak into the trash. We both knew very clearly. One of his ex-girlfriends had once deliberately bullied me, ordering a dozen steaks and making me eat them all. Eat and vomit, vomit and continue eating, from day to night. No one could help me, because Liam was also sitting at the dinner table, watching my “performance” with great interest. The difference is that now he awkwardly walked to my side and hugged me. As if wanting to fuse me into his flesh and blood: “I’m sorry, it won’t happen again.” I rubbed his head, holding back my disgust, and kissed his cheek: “It’s okay.” The phone rang inopportunely. We both looked over at the same time. It was Mia, my nightmare. Liam glanced at me and immediately hung up the phone. “I have absolutely no contact with her!” I deliberately showed a trace of pain, with a forced smile at the corners of my mouth: “It’s okay, I believe you.” But the phone kept ringing, Liam finally answered in exasperation. “Mia! I’m married! Can you stop bothering me!” I don’t know what Mia said on the other end. I only saw Liam’s face gradually turning ashen. He hung up the phone and squatted in front of me. “Chloe, Mia attempted suicide and is in the hospital, she’s not in a good emotional state, I…” Liam hadn’t finished speaking when I interrupted him directly. “Go ahead.” If you don’t go, how can I carry out my revenge plan.

After Liam left, I leisurely cooked the beef steak and ate it. Round one, failed. I dialed a number on my phone and went downstairs with a garbage bag. Passing by the traffic light, I looked at the car driving towards me and took a deep breath. “Boom!” The car hit me hard. It really hurts! I used the last bit of strength in my body to dial Liam’s number. No answer. I curved my lips in satisfaction, then lost consciousness. In my dream I saw Noah, the man who had illuminated my dark life, just like his name. “Don’t go!” I screamed at his receding figure. “Chloe, are you okay!” The first thing I saw was Liam’s exhausted face. He was still wearing the clothes he had left the house in that day. There were dark circles under his eyes, and his pupils were bloodshot, looking quite hideous. My tears instantly filled my eyes, I hugged Liam tightly and sobbed softly: “Liam, I thought… I thought I would never see you again.” I felt Liam’s body stiffen, as well as his guilt. “I really didn’t expect this to happen, I didn’t mean to not answer your call, I…” He seemed to know that too much explanation was useless. And this was exactly the effect I wanted. I habitually stroked the back of his head, my eyes indifferent. Unexpectedly, I made eye contact with Mia who had rushed over. She was wearing a hospital gown and charged angrily into my hospital room. “Liam! She just smiled! I saw her smile! She must have staged this herself! She just wanted to make you feel sorry for her! This bitch!” “Enough!” Liam walked up to Mia and slapped her across the face without regard for their past relationship.

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In the middle of the night, I got up to feed the baby and caught my husband satisfying his urges in the bathroom. That’s not a big deal. I’m still breastfeeding, and the stretch marks from carrying twins haven’t faded yet. I can understand if he’s not in the mood. But when I saw the photo he was looking at, I completely lost it. It was Melody, a girl he dated during our breakup period. I slapped him and asked if he’d been using Melody’s photos to get off for the past year and more that he hadn’t touched me. He calmly straightened his clothes and smiled. “Not just this past year. Even when we were doing IVF and I had to provide sperm samples, I did it this way!” Chloe I’m Chole. It was the middle of the night when I got up to feed my babies. As I passed by the bathroom, I noticed the door was slightly ajar. The light was off, but I could hear the faint sound of running water. I had a hunch about what was going on. Since I got pregnant, Alex and I hadn’t been intimate for safety reasons. Now, six months after giving birth, he still hadn’t touched me. I understood – I was still breastfeeding, and my body hadn’t fully recovered yet. Quietly, I pushed the bathroom door open. In the dim light from his phone, I could see Alex’s back, slightly hunched over. One hand was braced against the wall, while the other… A wave of sympathy washed over me. I called out his name softly, intending to go and embrace him. We were overdue to resume our normal marital life. But Alex turned around, startled. The look of desire in his eyes instantly cleared when he saw me. And I… in that moment when he turned, I clearly saw what was on his phone screen. It was a photo of Melody. Melody Lin. The girl Alex had dated for three months during our breakup. Rage boiled up inside me. My outstretched arms, ready to embrace him, instead swung around in a vicious slap across his face. I screamed at him, asking if he had been using Melody’s photos to satisfy himself all this time – over a year – that he hadn’t touched me. He locked his phone screen and started adjusting his clothes, as if I’d ruined his mood. I grabbed his collar, demanding answers. He showed no guilt whatsoever. Looking me up and down with a smirk, he said something that shattered me completely: “Not just this past year. Even when we were doing IVF, when I had to provide sperm samples – I used her photos then too!” Chloe His words hit me like a thunderbolt. I stood there, stunned, as he finished straightening his clothes and left the bathroom. The dark mirror reflected my unkempt, ghost-like appearance. No wonder he wasn’t attracted to me. I remembered our IVF treatments at the hospital. The doctor had Alex go to a private room to provide his sample. He was in there for a long time. Another woman doing IVF told me wives were allowed to go in and “help” if needed. I knocked on the door. Alex opened it just a crack. I asked if he wanted me to come in and help. He slammed the door shut and locked it. At the time, I thought he was just embarrassed. Now I realized he didn’t need me – he had been using Melody’s photos instead. The thought that our precious babies, the fruit of our love, were somehow tainted by Melody’s involvement made me sick. But I had brought this on myself. Before we got married, Alex and I had broken up for eight months. I was the one who dumped him. He was two years younger than me, fresh out of college with a mediocre job and no ambition. He spent all his free time playing video games, while my male coworkers were getting promotions and six-figure salaries. My family was pressuring me to settle down, buy a house, get married. I tried to talk to Alex about buying a place together. His parents, both working class, agreed to help with the down payment if we took out a mortgage for the rest. I was fine with that, but my mom complained. She said my cousins’ husbands had all bought houses outright, or at least covered the mortgage payments themselves. Plus they bought cars too. My mom felt that since I was prettier and had a better job than my cousins, I deserved better than what Alex could offer. I understood my mom’s perspective, and I understood Alex’s family’s limitations. So I tried to mediate between everyone, which left me emotionally drained. But Alex didn’t understand my position at all. When I was working overtime, he was playing games. When I was on the phone placating my mom, he was playing games. When I wanted to go look at apartments, he made excuses not to come – and I’d return to find him still gaming. Fed up and full of resentment, I broke up with him. I packed all his things from our apartment into one suitcase. The afternoon he left, carrying just that suitcase, I felt a twinge of guilt knowing he was going to crash at a friend’s place. But I pushed it aside. After that, work kept me extremely busy with long hours and business trips. I was too preoccupied to deal with Alex’s attempts to reconcile. By the time things slowed down, nearly six months had passed. Alex seemed to have gotten through the worst of the breakup. And I found I felt surprisingly liberated being single. Potential suitors started appearing, some with very impressive credentials. But then my best friend called with some news – Alex was dating someone new, a girl named Melody who apparently looked a lot like me. At first I just felt bad for him. We’d been together since high school and had a deep emotional bond. The fact that he was so hung up on me that he found a lookalike replacement was kind of touching, in a sad way. My friend also mentioned that the breakup had been a wake-up call for Alex. He’d done some serious self-reflection and was now much more driven at work. His company had launched a new game that he helped develop. He’d even gotten a promotion and stock options. It seemed the old saying was true – you plant the seeds, someone else reaps the harvest. I had sacrificed our relationship to motivate Alex to improve himself, only for this Melody girl to enjoy the results. Maybe it was that seed of resentment that made me lose my composure when I finally saw Alex again. I had just returned to the city when I happened to see Alex dropping Melody off at the train station. I was waiting for a taxi when I spotted them getting out of Alex’s new car. My first thought was that Melody really did look remarkably similar to me. Watching Alex wrap his arm tenderly around her waist, I was overcome with jealousy and regret. For the first time since our breakup, I realized I still loved Alex. I waited by his car for him to return from seeing her off. When he came back, I said simply, “Alex, I’m back.” I saw his eyes well up with tears, but he stood frozen in place. I went to embrace him. “You’ve finally grown up,” I said. “My tough love worked after all.” He pushed me away, then couldn’t resist reaching out to wipe my tears. I hugged him again. He pushed me away again. “Why are you back now?” he asked. “I have a girlfriend.” But three months of dating couldn’t compare to our years of history. Though he was rejecting me, I could see the pain and longing in his eyes. I begged and pleaded with him for days. My mom even flew in when she heard what was happening. She had a private conversation with Alex. I don’t know what she said, but afterwards – despite looking unhappy – Alex agreed to get back together with me. After eight months apart, everything seemed to be moving in a positive direction. Alex could afford a house now, and he had a nice car. My mom had stopped constantly criticizing him now that he was more successful. We got married quickly. I was confident Alex would soon forget about Melody, who he’d only known for three months. But I never imagined Alex would say what he did that night in the bathroom… Chloe After leaving the bathroom, Alex and I had a huge fight. The babies woke up crying, and my mom – who was staying with us to help with childcare – was startled awake as well. The whole house erupted into chaos in the middle of the night. When my mom found out the reason for our fight, she collapsed onto the sofa, looking faint. I panicked and took her blood pressure – 190 over 90. She was already exhausted from helping with the babies. Now the shock had triggered her hypertension. To his credit, Alex immediately stopped arguing and rushed to get her medication and water. Once she’d calmed down a bit, my mom launched into a tirade from her spot on the couch: “Alex, how can you be so heartless? Don’t you know how much Chloe has sacrificed for you, how much she’s suffered? She’s been with you since she was 18. You had nothing back then – your family was dirt poor. But Chloe didn’t care. She even fought with me over you. “Later on, it was Chloe’s idea to break up with you to motivate you to improve yourself. That’s the only reason you’re successful now. Don’t look at me like that – don’t think Chloe came back to you just because you’re doing well now. With her looks and job, she could have any man she wanted. She had plenty of suitors who were more successful than you. “She’s always put you first, and this is how you repay her… Is that homewrecker still chasing after you? Let me tell you, she only wants your money. If you were broke, do you think she’d give you a second glance? “Chloe went through so much to have your babies. Do you know how many injections she had to take for the IVF treatments? And now you won’t even touch her? How can you live with yourself?” My mom went on and on. Alex didn’t say a word, but his demeanor became much more subdued. The next morning, Alex got up early to make breakfast. He hadn’t cooked in ages. The table was laden with all my mom’s favorite dishes – a clear peace offering. Seeing my mom’s blood pressure still dangerously high, I swallowed my anger and resentment. For the next few days, Alex was the model husband and son-in-law. He came home on time every day to cook dinner. He helped clean the house and take care of the babies so my mom could rest. After the kids were asleep, he’d sit at his computer to finish up work from the day. I wanted to find a good time to have a real conversation with him. Maybe what he’d said that night was just spoken in anger. But before I got the chance, disaster struck. My mom got up to use the bathroom in the middle of the night and suffered a massive stroke. By the time we got her to the hospital, the doctors told us to prepare for the worst. She passed away before we could even get her back home. She never got to see my dad one last time. I was devastated and consumed with guilt. My mom had died from the stress of helping care for my children. Throughout the entire funeral, I could barely stand up straight from sobbing. They say true character is revealed in times of crisis. Despite our recent conflict, Alex really stepped up when my family needed him most. He handled all the funeral arrangements. Since I only have one sister and no brothers, Alex took on the traditional son’s duties – carrying the casket, holding the memorial banner, coordinating with guests, looking after my dad… All the neighbors commented on what a good son-in-law my mom had found. After we laid my mom to rest, I felt a huge weight lift despite my grief. Alex and I may have lost our passion, but it was clear he still cared for me deeply. Melody was no real threat to our marriage after all. Alex I’m Alex Chen. Pathetic Alex Chen. The day Chloe dumped me, I left our apartment like a stray dog being kicked to the curb. Years of love and memories reduced to a single suitcase. I boarded a bus, clutching that suitcase, with no idea where to go. I rode it to the end of the line, then got on the return trip. Back and forth. I spent that entire afternoon aimlessly crisscrossing the city on the Number 25 bus. Until 10 PM when service ended for the night. Standing alone at the bus stop, I broke down sobbing like a lost child. I knew I wasn’t good enough for her. I knew her mom was putting pressure on her to settle down. So I’d tried talking to her mom directly, behind Chloe’s back. Her mom called me a worthless bum. A penniless loser. I understood her desire to see her daughter with someone better. But they wouldn’t even give me a chance to prove myself. I told them I was helping develop a new game at work. They assumed it was just an excuse to play video games all day. Even so, I wanted to win Chloe back. I couldn’t bear the thought of losing the girl I’d dreamed of a future with. So I crashed at a friend’s place and tried everything I could think of to contact her. But she seemed too busy to care. Too busy to even be heartbroken over our breakup. During that time, I was in agony. I lost over 40 pounds. My mom was worried sick. She started working a second job after her regular shift, trying to save up money to help me buy a house someday. She even went behind my back to talk to Chloe’s mom. My mom said they could not only help with the down payment, but chip in for the mortgage payments too. Chloe’s mom asked, “What about a car?” My mom said they were getting older, so they could sell their house when the time came to buy me a car. What Chloe’s mom said next, I’ll never forget as long as I live: “So we have to wait until you’re dead to free up money for a car? That could be decades from now. If you can’t give up your life to buy your son a car right this second, don’t waste my time. My daughter can have any man she wants. She’s got a rich guy pursuing her right now. Tell your son to stop pathetically chasing after her and getting in her way.” My mom came home that day and collapsed from stress. She never recovered. Less than two months later, she fell into a hepatic coma and passed away. I couldn’t blame anyone but myself. My own inadequacy had killed my mother. My mom’s death made me give up on Chloe completely. I met Melody at my mom’s funeral. She worked at the crematorium but had an unusually upbeat personality. At first, I was drawn to her because of her resemblance to Chloe. But soon I found myself genuinely attracted to her character. Melody was adamantly against marriage. She had a carefree attitude that set her apart from most people. She had a healthy perspective on life and death, and a clear-eyed view of the world. On the surface she seemed flippant, but she was actually quite philosophical. With Melody’s encouragement, I threw myself into my passion for gaming. The project I was working on became a huge success. I’d finally found my path in life. Just as Melody and I had started dating, Chloe came back. She knew exactly how to manipulate me. She cried about how much she’d missed me. She knew just what to say to tug at my heartstrings. She even claimed breaking up with me was all part of a plan to motivate me to improve myself. It was absurd. But I softened anyway. I felt a twinge of sympathy for her, but I never intended to leave Melody. Until Chloe’s mom got involved again. I have to admit, the old woman was crafty. Before approaching me, she went to Melody first. When we met, she played me a recording of her conversation with Melody. She had told Melody our whole history, even playing her recordings of me begging Chloe to take me back after our breakup. She even had a recording of my mom pleading with her. I knew Melody wasn’t the type to be easily manipulated. But I’d forgotten one crucial thing: Melody was a free spirit who hated complications. After Melody refused to break up with me, Chloe’s mom showed up at the crematorium where she worked. She caused a huge scene, screaming that Melody was a homewrecker who had destroyed her daughter’s relationship. Just as Melody was about to call security, Chloe’s mom suddenly changed tack. She apologized profusely, claiming she’d mistaken Melody for someone else. Then she whispered, “If you don’t break up with him, next time I won’t pretend it was a mistake. I’ll keep harassing you, and my daughter will keep chasing after Alex. Your life will become a living hell. You’ll end up breaking up with him anyway.” Melody’s feelings for me weren’t deep enough yet to weather that kind of storm. So she let me go with her typical nonchalance. But she got in one last jab at the old woman: “Now that I’m voluntarily stepping aside, I’ll always be the one that got away – the unattainable ideal in Alex’s heart. Your daughter will forever live in my shadow.” Listening to the recording of Melody’s carefree voice, I felt the happiness I’d grasped slipping through my fingers once again. My mind went blank. I stared at Chloe’s mom, my face expressionless. The hatred I’d been suppressing exploded silently inside me. My mother’s death, all the times I’d swallowed my pride and anger – I wanted to settle those accounts one by one. Since they’d handed me this opportunity on a silver platter, it would be rude not to take advantage. I pretended to gradually give in to Chloe and her mother’s relentless pressure. Then I agreed to marry Chloe, as if it were the natural progression of events. After we were married, Chloe initiated intimacy a few times, then started bringing up whose name should be on the house deed. I magnanimously offered to pay for the house in full and add her name to the deed as our joint property. She wasn’t as thrilled by this as I’d expected. Her mom also made several comments about so-and-so’s husband putting the house solely in the wife’s name. And how their daughter-in-law wasn’t nearly as pretty as Chloe. I went along with looking at properties but remained noncommittal about the name on the deed. We found a development we liked and were waiting for a promotional discount period. When the sale started, I conveniently had to go on a business trip. The mother-daughter duo finally lost patience. They called me repeatedly, insisting I transfer the money immediately before the discounted price expired. I knew exactly what they were up to, but I sent the money anyway. Sure enough, they bought a finished property and rushed to get the deed processed as quickly as possible – with only Chloe’s name on it. When I returned from my “business trip,” I didn’t say much. I just quietly saved the bank transfer records. Later, Chloe’s mom started pushing for me to get a new car. So they persuaded me to sell my car. Once again, I was conveniently out of town when they bought the new one – registered solely in Chloe’s name. We only got officially married after all this was settled. The house and car were now considered Chloe’s premarital assets. Before the wedding, I met up with Melody one last time. She smiled as she tried to comfort me: “Don’t be sad. If you’d stayed with me, you might never have gotten married or had kids. I’d rather be the one that got away than a constant thorn in your side.” I asked if she’d regret never marrying or leaving anything behind after she was gone. She said she planned to donate her eggs, so she wouldn’t leave nothing behind. After that conversation, I had some new things to consider. I approached the wedding with an unexpected sense of anticipation. It wasn’t until over a year into our marriage that Chloe realized the gravity of our situation. She said she wanted to get checked out at the hospital. Figure out why she wasn’t getting pregnant yet. Her mom was anxious too. She said Chloe shouldn’t go alone – what if I was the one with fertility issues? She ranted about how some seemingly healthy men turn out to have problems in that department. How they trick women into marrying them without disclosing their condition. How those men should be forced to pay compensation for the deception. And so, amidst her mother’s pointed comments, we embarked on a long journey of fertility treatments. Neither of us had any medical issues, yet Chloe still couldn’t conceive. I admit I was secretly sabotaging our efforts. But maybe it was also fate. Finally, we turned to IVF as our last resort. My real show was about to begin. Everything proceeded according to my plan. I was just waiting for the right moment to unleash my pent-up, almost maniacal resentment. That night, before Chloe got up to feed the babies, I snuck into the bathroom early. I turned the water on full blast – loud enough to draw her attention. She came in, about to embrace me. I quickly pulled up a photo of Melody on my phone, deliberately angling it so Chloe would see. When she raised her hand to slap me, I let go of my last shred of sympathy for her. I told her that even during our IVF treatments, I’d used Melody’s photos to “produce my samples.” I knew she couldn’t handle that kind of shock. Sure enough, she came out and started a huge fight with me. Predictably, it woke up her mom. And just as predictably, her mom’s blood pressure spiked dangerously. Right on cue, I played the role of the remorseful son-in-law who’d been manipulated. I showed my contrition through actions. Every day, I cooked meals catered to her mom’s tastes. I prepared a variety of dishes. But they all had one thing in common: High sodium. High salt. High calorie. The kind of food that causes constipation. I insisted on doing all the housework so her mom would rest as much as possible after meals. When she sat on the sofa after dinner, legs crossed, snacking on sunflower seeds and watching TV, I’d bring her more snacks. Within days, she suffered a massive stroke. She died on the toilet, straining to have a bowel movement. … Cruel, wasn’t it? After the funeral, I asked my reflection in the mirror. The face staring back at me twisted into a grotesque expression. “No,” it said. “The real show is just beginning…”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “294827”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #现实主义Realistic #励志Inspiring #浪漫Romance #魔幻Magic #校园School

I’m trembling in the corner of the bed. “Boss, you’re… you’re not usually like this.” He angrily throws his tie onto the bed. “Everyone has two sides to them!” A few months ago, I drew two erotic sketches. I meant to send them to my own phone via SnapChat, but accidentally sent them to my hot boss. I was confused at first, thinking my phone had glitched. When I realized what happened, my mind went blank. Shit shit shit! Unsend unsend! In a panic, I hit “Delete”. Nice save! Now I can start thinking about whether I need to resign. I collapsed onto my bed, my face burning red and my body weak. I could already imagine how my cold, reserved boss would react seeing those drawings. He’d probably rest his head on his hand with a look of disgust, even hating to look at my chat window. “Hmph, Lily. I thought you were the good girl of the office. I didn’t expect you to be this kind of person. How disgusting!” I felt so wronged I wanted to cry. After covering my eyes for ten minutes, my phone buzzed. I knew without looking it was a message from my boss. When I opened it, two images full of holy white light were slapped in my face. It was so bright it hurt my eyes. I rubbed my swollen eyes and saw he had sent another message. “Come to my office after work on Monday.” Great, I don’t even need to resign. He’s already preparing to fire me, and I can get double severance pay. Waaah. I suffered through the most painful weekend of my life, finally reaching judgment day. By the end of the workday, I had already packed up all my personal belongings. After most people had left, I finally worked up the courage to knock on his door. When the door opened, he was still focused on drawing a design. The setting sun illuminated his profile, half light and half shadow, like a character from a manga that’s half angel, half devil. Even just ordinary black-framed glasses looked extremely stylish on his face. Ah, he’s so handsome! But I wasn’t in the mood to appreciate it. “B-boss.” I was such a coward, I couldn’t even look at him. He glanced up at me and coolly tossed a folder my way. “There’s a Shakespeare-themed design gala coming up. Choose one of his works and create costume designs for three characters.” “Huh??” Just talking about work? “Is there… nothing else you want to say?” I was a bit dazed. He put down his pen and looked at me seriously. Oh god, don’t look at me like that!! Those beautiful eyes nearly made me ascend on the spot! If he wasn’t wearing glasses, he’d probably be even more mesmerizing… “You can stay and work overtime with me if you want, but… there’s no overtime pay.” He said flatly. My heart instantly calmed down. Who would work without overtime pay! “Then I’ll head out first. You should go home early too, boss.” I entered in a daze and left in a daze. Just as I turned to open the door, I heard a faint voice behind me, “Do you… like that kind of thing?” !! I quickly turned back. I saw my handsome boss diligently working on his design as if he hadn’t said anything. Did I mishear? “Anything else?” He looked up at me. I shook my head vigorously: “Goodbye, boss.” Ah… I’m at peace. My hot boss is so nice!!!! He deliberately avoided mentioning that day’s incident, saving my face. I think I like him even more now. When I got home, I opened Twitter and happily posted an update using my secret account. Instantly, I was flooded with comments like “You’re amazing!”, “So steamy!”, “Mama’s content is so delicious!” All the unpleasant things were instantly forgotten, leaving me with only a sense of accomplishment from being praised. However, one comment caught my attention. “You like this kind of thing?” My heart felt like it had been electrocuted. It instantly reminded me of the voice I heard when leaving the office. I clicked on that person’s profile. It was a burner account without even a profile picture. I was probably overthinking things. After a week of exhausting work, I finally welcomed the weekend. I had planned to sleep in the next day, but my plans were interrupted by a message from my boss. “The organizers are in a rush. We need to finalize the designs by next Monday. Find some time tomorrow, I’ll give you feedback on your designs in person.” In person? It’s clear the boss takes these designs very seriously. “Should we meet at the office or…” I asked. “Choose a quiet place close to your home.” I couldn’t help but fantasize – my place is quiet, and if we get tired we could just take a nap. But I didn’t have the guts to suggest that. Me: “There’s a nice coffee shop downstairs from my apartment. If we get hungry we can grab food nearby.” “Alright.” The boss agreed right away. I ascended to heaven on the spot!! Ahhhh! We’re going on a date!! I’ve been on dates with guys before, but I’ve never been this nervous. I woke up at 7 AM to shower and do my makeup, and even sprayed on a cologne similar to my boss’s scent. I arrived at the coffee shop early to wait. “Good morning, boss…” I waved with a smile. I had practiced this smile in the mirror 8 times yesterday! I saw his body stiffen for a moment. “Morning,” he said as he sat down across from me. His Adam’s apple suddenly bobbed. Oh my god! Did he just gulp? Damn, how can a man even look good swallowing! “Boss, here are the designs.” I took out my tablet. He glanced at it and pointed out many areas for improvement. “Here, and here…” The table was quite large, so it was inconvenient for him to point things out. He had to move to sit next to me. We accidentally brushed against each other. “Sorry,” he said. My heart started racing, and I felt like steam was coming out of my head. He erased all the clothes on my design, leaving only the body outline. “Try redrawing one based on what I said.” I could barely hold my pen steady. How am I supposed to draw like this? As expected, what I drew in front of him looked like crap. He frowned. I quickly apologized: “Boss, I might not be in the best condition. I’m having trouble drawing.” He was silent for a long time, then took my tablet and opened the photo gallery. “I remember you had a pretty good draft before.” Oh shit! No!! Damn, I was too slow and couldn’t stop him. I saw his expression become extremely strange, his eyelids even twitching. “You don’t separate your work tablet and personal tablet?” I’m poor, okay? If I had money I’d buy two. I didn’t say anything, and I didn’t dare look at the tablet. It was full of extremely explicit drawings. I was utterly mortified. Can you die twice from social embarrassment? I thought he would close it, but I didn’t expect him to actually click on one of the images. That image only showed a pair of legs on the tablet screen. How did he recognize it from such a tricky angle and click on it? “Boss!!!!” The image enlarged, revealing a very handsome man on the full screen. The man in the picture wore a navy blue suit with a gold tie clip inlaid with blue sapphires, gold-rimmed glasses, and a gold chain hanging from the glasses. I had designed this entire outfit from head to toe. It wasn’t just exquisite, but also had a powerful and confident aura. My boss’s eyes widened next to me, his pupils constricting. This was the first time I’d seen him with such an expression. His Adam’s apple bobbed again. “Is this… me?” “Mm-hmm.” I couldn’t come up with an excuse so I didn’t bother trying. “It looks very good. Can you send it to me?” My hot boss smiled. Oh my god!! He smiled!! Ahhhhhh!! I didn’t know the boss could be so gentle! I quickly sent it over. After sending it, I realized that due to my professional habits, I might have sent it in PSD format. Help! I hope he doesn’t hide the most recent layer, otherwise he’ll see an extremely explicit version without any clothes. Because I didn’t know when he would discover it, I was on edge for the next two weeks. This caused me to have writer’s block when starting a new story, so I turned to Twitter for help, asking for suggestions for a new plot. Among the many comments, one caught my attention. “The female lead could be an artist, sweet and innocent on the surface, but secretly loves drawing erotic art. She even secretly draws the male lead, and gets caught by him.” !! That electrifying feeling in my heart came back. It was that burner account without a profile picture again. This paragraph seemed to be describing me. I had a guess, but I wasn’t sure… “You have some great ideas, sweetie! For the male lead, do you have any good suggestions?” I tried to probe further. He replied to the comment: “If I were the male lead, I wouldn’t immediately expose this. After all, I’m not sure if she likes me or just enjoys drawing. “I can only be certain that she’s satisfied with my appearance, so I would deliberately do things to attract her, to make her fall completely in love with me. The best hunters often appear in the guise of prey, don’t they?” Whew – this person is so devious! It definitely can’t be my boss. I breathed a sigh of relief. But I couldn’t help imagining – what if my usually reserved boss also had a scheming side? Oh shit, nosebleed… tissue… Late that night, inspiration struck and I rarely felt like working hard! The male lead in my new story was based on my boss, but I was afraid of being discovered. I had to give the male lead some attributes my boss didn’t have. Like being scheming, jealous, and having a strong possessive streak. Inside the boss’s office. I sat with my head lowered. After fantasizing about him for two nights over the weekend, I didn’t dare look him in the eye. “Your face is so red. Is my office too hot?” I shook my head. He put some documents in front of me. I had just opened them when I saw him take off his suit jacket right in front of me, then loosen his tie! Oh my god! He’s really not treating me like an outsider. Am I allowed to see this? He glanced at me and coughed awkwardly twice. “Sorry, I’m actually quite hot. Is it okay if I talk to you like this?” He leaned back in his office chair looking a bit worn out. His tie wasn’t completely undone, hanging loosely, and he unbuttoned the first button of his shirt. I stared, transfixed. Heavens! I’m so hot! This was the first time I’d seen the boss looking so vulnerable. If I don’t draw a few gigabytes worth of erotic art of him, I’d be wasting this trip to his office! But I acted very reserved, holding back a mischievous smile as I stood up and slowly approached. “Are you not feeling well, boss?” His breathing was heavy. “It’s nothing. Let’s continue discussing the stage play. This time all the major design companies want to use the play as an opportunity to show off. You got the female lead role, so you must perform well. I’ll do my best to support you.” I nodded vigorously. For this stage play, my boss and I had been cast as the male and female leads. This was a heaven-sent opportunity, so of course I would work hard. He propped himself up to reach for the water glass on the desk, but before he could grab it, he swayed and nearly fell to the floor. Luckily I was standing right next to him. I quickly steadied him. “Boss, should I take you to the hospital?” He didn’t say anything. His body was very limp, almost leaning into my arms. “I’m sorry, my head hurts a lot right now. Can you stay in this position without moving and let me lean on you for a bit?” Oh, damn! Am I dreaming? How did I get so lucky? He was groaning in pain. But I couldn’t help wanting to prick up my ears to listen. Even his groans sounded amazing!! And this scene was very similar to the first chapter of my new story! A palace artist catches a poisoned prince as he collapses. The prince’s poison acts up and he immediately pins down the artist. If the maids hadn’t arrived in time, the little artist would have been devoured in the first chapter!!! “What are you thinking about? Why is your heart beating so fast?” The voice from my arms brought me back to reality. My face was already red, and after being called out it burned even hotter. “I won’t trouble you anymore.” He managed to sit up straight and let out a breath. “Thank you. I’ll treat you to a meal another day.” I nodded, trying to calm my wildly beating heart as I left. Just as I turned to close the door, a fleeting image in the office startled me. The boss who had been painfully rubbing his head was actually smiling? Impossible!! I must have seen wrong. On Twitter, I created a fan group. People eager for my erotic content immediately flooded in. I typed, “Help! This isn’t about drawing! Can anyone analyze what my chances are if I want to pursue my hot boss?” These online friends’ enthusiasm for gossip was no less than their enthusiasm for erotic content. They all asked me to elaborate. So I told them about the office hug incident and secretly drawing my boss. At this point I remembered I still had a male fan. I scanned the group and didn’t see him, so I proactively added him to the group. “Hey Mr. No Profile Picture, can you help analyze this for me?” Mr. No Profile Picture: “What?” A fan copied and pasted what I had posted. Mr. No Profile Picture: “?!!” Mr. No Profile Picture: “There’s a version without clothes too?” Me: “Actually… I have even more explicit ones on my tablet. He just didn’t see those.” Mr. No Profile Picture: “!!” For some reason, I felt like his reaction was a bit over the top. Shouldn’t a stranger just be enjoying the gossip? Meanwhile, the other fans were clamoring non-stop: “Author, I want to see pics of the hot boss”, “Show us the goods”, “Let me see”. They were about to flood the chat, so I had no choice but to post a few of my best drawings. There were no full face shots anyway. Even if the actual person saw them, they probably wouldn’t recognize themselves. As soon as the images were posted, the group exploded. Everyone was shouting that the hot boss belonged to all of them, and begging me to draw “more more more” in the future. I found it too noisy, so I left to private message that guy. “Hey, can you help analyze now?” That guy: “Sorry, those images had quite an impact. I need a moment to recover.” I get it, I get it. We’re all horny here… But this guy took half an hour to “recover”. “Sorry, I just took a cold shower.” Me: “Damn, that’s intense. You’ll catch a cold showering in this weather.” “Ahem, you’ve been updating so frequently lately, I’ve been taking cold showers for days.” Well, I’ll take that as a compliment. Suddenly I thought, my boss had a headache and fever earlier. He couldn’t have been taking cold showers too, right? He continued: “I think you should try getting closer to him. You might discover that your hot boss isn’t just physically attractive, but has many other shining qualities.”

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My father is the CEO of the country’s largest media company, my mother is a retired Golden Globe-winning actress, and my brother is a top celebrity. As soon as I entered college, gossip news spread that the youngest daughter of Reed Media’s CEO had enrolled in a prestigious drama school. My roommate, desperate for fame, rushed to claim the title: “Thank you all for your attention! I want to study quietly and hope not to affect others.” A few days later, it was revealed that Reed Media’s little princess was actually someone else! “Thank you, media friends, for your attention! I’ve just started my four-year college journey and would like to study quietly for now. I hope everyone won’t pay too much attention, and I hope my fans will behave and not disturb others.” I looked at the SnapChat post from my roommate Yvonne Shaw and couldn’t help but laugh. What a drama queen. Wasn’t acting in movies enough? Now she’s trying to act in my life? It all started on the first day of school when some small media outlet, without checking with my dad’s company, broke the news that “Reed Media CEO’s youngest daughter enrolled in a prestigious drama school.” Anyone who’s been in the industry for a while knows that Reed Media’s chairman’s youngest daughter is a sensitive topic and absolutely off-limits for reporting. I didn’t expect someone would dare to poke the bear. What I expected even less was that someone would be so desperate for fame that they’d try to piggyback on my dad’s name. That person was my new college roommate, Yvonne Shaw. She did have the prerequisite to pretend – her surname was Shaw, and my dad’s surname was also Shaw. What a coincidence, right? Yvonne had starred in a web series and shot to fame with her pure and lovely image, gaining five million fans overnight. When school started, she was already voted the most popular girl on campus, trending in the top ten on Twitter. When people heard that Yvonne was in the Acting Department’s Class 1, the class group chat exploded like boiling water. “Our goddess is here!” “Wow, will we get to act opposite the campus beauty?” … Now, seeing this trending topic, my roommates looked at Yvonne with envious eyes and tried to curry favor: “Yvonne, I can’t believe you’re the CEO of Reed Media’s daughter. My God, it’s like having a big shot right next to me!” “Oh my, Yvonne, doesn’t that mean Sean Reed is your brother? Can I get an autograph?” “Yvonne, your family will definitely arrange great resources for you in the future, right? Please take me with you! I’ll be happy just playing your maid!” … Listening to all this flattery and praise, I couldn’t help but sneer. What kind of daydream is this? Sean Reed is MY brother! By blood! Autographs are easy, but I’m afraid that “maid” role might be hard to come by. My family’s projects aren’t for just anyone. A freshman who just entered college, not even a real actress yet, instead of thinking about how to attend classes and hone her acting skills, is thinking about taking shortcuts all day. If we gave you a supporting role with lines now, could you even handle it? I opened my account and posted on the trending topic. “Some people, not even famous, but love to leech off others.” A few of Yvonne’s fans found their way to my Twitter and started cursing: “Who the hell are you talking about?” “Yeah, we’re talking about you. Don’t try to ride on our Yvonne’s coattails.” I couldn’t be bothered to respond. The truth will come out eventually. Probably because my sneer didn’t sit well with her, Wendy, the roommate who wanted a role, sarcastically said: “What are you laughing at? Some people aren’t that good-looking and don’t have such a good family background, yet still act all high and mighty.” Another person chimed in: “Exactly, I don’t know what she’s pretending to be.” Haha, if I told you, you’d be scared to death. All those “husbands” you like have to bow and scrape before me. All their exclusive autographs and merchandise fill up the basement storage in my house. I get their warm greetings on every holiday, afraid that I might forget about them one day. Yvonne said gently: “We’re all classmates. Although some classmates might not have good family backgrounds, we’re all here chasing our acting dreams. We should work hard together and not discriminate.” Wendy shook her head: “Oh, Yvonne, you’re just too kind. But you know, everyone has their own status. Some people need to know their place.” “Skylar, you don’t even have a single designer item on you. Your family must not be well-off, right? How can you compare to Yvonne? In the future, you need to know your place.” Yvonne interjected again: “Let it go, let’s not compare.” Just then, my dad called. I couldn’t be bothered with them anymore and went to the balcony to answer the phone. “Hello, is my baby girl okay? Daddy just saw the trending topic and immediately had it taken down. It won’t affect you.” Hearing the word “baby” come out of the mouth of my dad, a dignified middle-aged man, really gave me goosebumps. “No, no, don’t take it down yet. Just leave it.” “Really? Are you sure you’re not upset, baby?” “I’m fine.” I want to see what other tricks she has up her sleeve. “When are you coming home? Daddy misses you so much.” Three black lines almost materialized on top of my head. “It’s only the third day of school.” Can someone please control this daughter-obsessed dad? It’s exhausting. My name is Skylar Reed. My father is the CEO of the country’s largest media company, my mother is a retired Golden Globe-winning actress, and my brother is a top celebrity. The reason I have a different last name is because I took my mom’s surname. When she was pregnant with her second child, she insisted that the baby should take her surname to prove my dad loved her. My dad, who loves and fears my mom, naturally agreed. Plus, when I was little, I got lost among my mom’s fans while out playing with her. A crazy fan secretly took me into the women’s restroom. I vaguely remember that psycho fan kept taking pictures of me with their phone in the restroom until my family found me three hours later. So I developed psychological trauma, resulting in fear of crowds and claustrophobia. Whenever I was in crowded or dark places, I would easily have emotional breakdowns, crying and screaming. For the first few years, I couldn’t be left alone at all and had to sleep with a night light on. After seeing a therapist for several years, I finally recovered. So, my parents have always been very protective of my privacy and made it clear to all major media outlets that any photos of me must be deleted. Taking my mom’s surname works well too. Reed is a common name that doesn’t stand out, which allowed me to live like a normal person for ten years. I didn’t expect to lose the “opportunity” to be known as my dad’s daughter. I don’t like wearing luxury brands covered in logos all over. It feels so tacky. Many of my clothes are specially designed by my aunt who does fashion design in Europe. They’re one-of-a-kind pieces that even royalty can’t buy. I’ve always kept a low profile and never let my family appear at my school. The night before school started, my dad paced back and forth in my room, my mom sat on my bed wiping away tears, and my brother dutifully helped me pack. The three of them kept bombarding me with questions. “Baby, why don’t I send you to school tomorrow?” I coldly replied, “No way. If you go, the entire school leadership will probably surround you.” “Then let mom go with you. I’ve been out of the spotlight for so long, no one will notice.” “You’re lying. Last week I saw that famous Director Li come to our house to give you a script, begging you to come out of retirement.” “Then how about your brother…” “You don’t even need to mention it. If you go, my entire dorm building will be surrounded by your crazy fans.” Thinking of such a scene, I shuddered. After experiencing many hypnotherapy sessions, I only have a vague impression of what happened when I was little, but I still can’t face crowds calmly. Better to avoid it if possible. Seeing my firm attitude, they had to give up. On the first day of school, our butler Mr. Lin drove me to school in our family’s cheapest car used for grocery shopping. He dressed like an ordinary old man, very low-key when we arrived at school. The butler has worked for our family for over twenty years and watched me grow up. I’ve always treated him like an elder. Although he looks older and dresses plainly, he’s a proper working professional. My family pays him a high salary. I didn’t expect that in their eyes, it turned into evidence that my family wasn’t well-off. Yvonne and I didn’t have much conflict at first. It was just that when the campus beauty vote happened, I barely made it onto the list, and she felt I stole her spotlight. Since then, she’s always been passive-aggressive, either mocking my family background or saying I have no sense of style. Ever since Yvonne posted that ambiguous SnapChat, she’s been treated like a queen. My roommates all flocked around her, and our dorm automatically formed a barrier. When I returned to the dorm after class, I saw Yvonne come back with a pile of gifts and a bag of letters. Wendy immediately rushed over, carefully took the things from her hands, and picked up a few beautifully packaged gifts. “Wow, a Cartier bracelet, it looks so expensive.” “And an LV bag, I’ve wanted this handbag for so long, waaah.” “Wow, this perfume is from Chanel’s limited collection.” “Huh, why are there a pair of slippers? These slippers don’t even look that good…” Wendy muttered, and Yvonne overheard. She rolled her eyes. “Look carefully, these are Fendi, over $1,000 a pair. You really don’t know anything.” “What? So expensive.” Wendy exclaimed. Yvonne picked out a bottle of Dior perfume and tossed it to Wendy, “Here, it’s yours.” Wendy held the perfume like a treasure, curiously asking. “Who sent you all these gifts?” Yvonne said proudly, “Who else? All from my fans, of course.” I coldly observed their showing off, secretly turning on my phone’s voice recorder. “Every time I say no verbally, but hint a little on social media, they still send stuff anyway.” Yvonne continued. “It’s just that they spend money on unnecessary things. Last birthday they even bought me a star. Just a stupid star in the sky, you know?” “I think it’s such a waste. You can’t see or touch it. It would make me happier if they spent that money on luxury goods instead.” “Every time they stuff a bunch of letters in too. What era is this?” “I’m too lazy to read books, let alone their letters. How naive.” I really feel bad for these fans. The money their parents work hard to earn, these kids use to chase celebrities. And all their heartfelt gestures, the celebrity doesn’t even care about. They only care if your money reaches their account. Yvonne took a lipstick and walked up to me. “Skylar, I see you have so few cosmetics. This lipstick color suits you well, I’ll give it to you.” I coldly refused. “No need. I don’t need it. You should cherish the gifts from others.” Wendy angrily said. “You’re so ungrateful. Yvonne is taking pity on you and you don’t even appreciate it.” “I don’t think you deserve to use such good lipstick. Just stick to your drugstore brands.” What’s wrong with drugstore brands? There are great domestic brands too. Lipstick is one of those things where the price is artificially inflated, mainly due to brand markup. I said seriously. “Don’t look down on domestic brands. We’re all talking about developing national products now, and many brands are doing very well.” “Not everything expensive is good. As long as the lipstick is properly produced and works well, it’s worth buying.” Although my family is rich, we don’t worship all foreign brands. For example, some T-shirts, the cotton from our country is very good. And silk pajamas, custom-made from a family workshop in Suzhou that doesn’t sell to the public. Their ancestors made clothes for the Empress Dowager Cixi, and the imperial craftsmanship has been passed down. All year round, they only make clothes for a few top wealthy families. In this world, what you can buy isn’t necessarily the best. Wendy rolled her eyes, looking at me with disdain. “A country bumpkin is just a country bumpkin. I can’t be bothered to talk to you.” They happily unwrapped gifts, ignoring me. I looked at the recording on my phone, thinking, one day, I’ll expose your true face to your fans. Let them see clearly whether some celebrities are really worth being fans of. The next day was our major class, and the teacher gave us a script to perform. I drew the female lead role, paired with the most handsome guy in our class to perform a love scene from a famous movie. The male lead was our school’s heartthrob, William Yuan, a former boy band member turned actor with over 10 million followers on Twitter. Unexpectedly, Yvonne bit her lip, looking like she was about to cry. Classmates rushed over, asking with concern: “Yvonne, what’s wrong? Are you not feeling well?” “If you’re not feeling well, take a break first.” Even the male lead teacher came forward to ask what happened. Yvonne looked up, glancing at me carefully, and opened the paper in her hand. “It’s… it’s nothing. I just didn’t get the role I wanted. Don’t worry, I’ll… I’ll act well and won’t drag everyone down.” Fine, you’re the queen of fake nice. My roommates turned around, took Yvonne’s paper and walked up to me: “Skylar Reed, switch with Yvonne. After all, she’s the campus beauty, and she has acting experience. She’ll definitely perform better than you.” “Yeah, and Yvonne is prettier than you. She was born to be the female lead. How can you measure up?” Ever since they found out Yvonne might be Reed Media’s little princess, they’ve all been sucking up to her like lapdogs. I remained unmoved, “Why should I? We all drew lots fairly. Besides, how do you know I can’t act well?” William Yuan said rudely, “Because you have no experience, and because your last name isn’t Shaw. Happy now?” He snatched the paper from my hand, walked to Yvonne’s side, and gently placed it in her palm: “Don’t cry. Come on, we’re partners now.” Heh, I truly wish you two-faced people a long and happy life together. I looked at the teacher, hoping she would be fair. “Teacher, are you really going to let them snatch roles like this?” The teacher looked impatient. “What does it matter what role you play? When you become an actress in the future, can you pick your roles?” I was unconvinced. This was clearly favoritism. I’ve never been treated like this in my life. “Why don’t you say that to her? She’s the one picking roles.” “I think as a teacher, you should treat everyone equally. If you set this precedent, everyone will pick roles in the future. Who will play the small roles then?” “In a play, whether it’s the lead or supporting role, they’re all important. Without supporting roles to set off the lead, how can the lead shine?” The teacher ignored my plea and angrily said. “You talk back ten times for every word I say. Why don’t you be the teacher? You can act or not, if you don’t want to, then get out.” I sneered and said. “You’re all doing this because her last name is Shaw, right? What if she’s not actually the daughter of Reed Media’s CEO?” I saw Yvonne’s face suddenly turn pale in the crowd, trying to keep her composure. “If I’m not, are you saying you are?” I confidently answered: “Of course.” The whole class burst into laughter. “Hahaha she says she’s James Reed’s daughter, I’m dying of laughter.” “If she’s James Reed’s daughter, then I’m Jeff Bezos’ long-lost son.” … James Reed is my dad’s name. Fine, laugh all you want today. Soon enough, I’ll make sure you can’t laugh anymore. But it’s not enough for just you to know. I want the whole world to know who the shameless thief really is. A week after school started was my brother Sean Reed’s concert. He became an internet sensation after debuting as the center in a talent show. Overnight, I gained millions of “sisters-in-law”. Wendy had been promoting herself as Sean Reed’s die-hard fan since school started, even hanging a title in the fan club. Sean Reed’s concert tickets went on pre-sale three days ago, first come first served. But the tickets sold out so fast that they were gone almost as soon as they were released.

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