Author: Momo Chan

Substitute, substitute – just a replacement for his true love. His true love was coming back, and I was supposed to gracefully exit. Who knew the obsessive male lead would try to force me to stay. His eyes flashed red as he spoke coldly: “Run away again, and I’ll have a cage made just for you.” I rolled my eyes. “This is a society of laws, you psycho.” But when I got home after finalizing the divorce, I saw a giant golden cage in the living room! I gasped. Was it too late to run now? That’s right, I was playing a role. The kind where you step into an over-the-top romance novel to help the original female lead fulfill her wishes. The original Aria had been a substitute for billionaire CEO Dominic Thorne for five years, falling hopelessly in love with him. She even schemed against his true love, Ethan White, just to win Dominic’s heart. In the end, she fell ill from despair and passed away quietly. I scoffed at this. If a man doesn’t work out, just find another one. But the original Aria was determined to hang onto Dominic Thorne. Her dying wish was for me to win Dominic’s heart. And then crush it! Trample it! Destroy it! Clearly, when love becomes an obsession, people go a bit crazy.

I stepped into the story three months before Ethan White was due to return. As soon as I opened my eyes, I heard a husky, suppressed voice say, “Shut up. Don’t make a sound. Your voice doesn’t sound like his.” I thought to myself, I haven’t even said anything! Then I realized something was off… Oh crap… we were in bed! Well, talk about perfect timing for my arrival. Whatever, since I’m here, might as well enjoy myself. I closed my eyes, ready to fully experience whether the male lead was any good. Suddenly, a stinging heat spread across my backside. Dominic had actually spanked me. “You’re being disobedient today. This is your punishment.” “Count.” Help! Why didn’t anyone tell me this male lead was a pervert? I gritted my teeth, thinking about my mission – win his heart, then crush it mercilessly! At that moment, I deeply understood the original Aria’s feelings. Swallowing my shame, I stammered out the count: “One.” “Smack!” “Two.” “Smack!” “Three.” … Meanwhile, I was forming a plan in my mind. Step one, to win someone’s heart, you first need to make them feel sorry for you. Sympathy is the precursor to love. I inwardly smirked. Feeling sorry for a man is the beginning of misfortune. Dominic Thorne, just you wait. Apart from counting as Dominic demanded, I didn’t say another word. I just let tears well up in my eyes, on the verge of falling but not quite. I stared at Dominic, my face full of grievance. But he remained unmoved. If anything, his movements became even more forceful. I could barely stand it and accidentally cursed out loud. Crap, I’d broken character before even getting started. Dominic suddenly froze. “…” Silence. Silence filled the large bed tonight. He sat up, gripping my chin, and said coldly, “What did you say? Say it again.” You bastard. But outwardly, I could only pout weakly and pitifully, “I didn’t say anything…” As for what happened after that… I don’t want to remember.

The next morning when I woke up, I was alone in the big bed. Dominic was nowhere to be seen. I gingerly tried to get up, my body aching all over. But for the sake of my mission, I gritted my teeth and got out of bed. Dominic is a wealthy CEO, very busy most of the time. I, as his substitute, had nothing to do except wait for his beck and call. This wouldn’t do. How could being a substitute be considered a proper job? It’s not like Dominic was paying me benefits or insurance. So, I decided to find a job first. Hmm, self-reliant people are the most beautiful. A regular nine-to-five wouldn’t work. What if Dominic called and I had to skip work to be his substitute? I’d easily get fired. I went to a bar, or more accurately, a gay bar. There were all kinds of men inside. I thought this job would be pretty good. I said I wanted to be a resident singer, and the owner pointed to the high stage, telling me to perform a song. This was easy for me. I took a few steps onto the stage and gave them a song and dance performance. The music was deafening, and the colorful lights flashed dizzily. I danced passionately on stage. The audience went wild, with many people shouting and some even trying to climb up to hug me. Lost in the performance, I took off my jacket. The short T-shirt underneath barely covered my waist, revealing glimpses of skin with each movement. Then I flashed a smile at the audience and tossed my jacket down, causing an uproar. Of course, I didn’t notice that Dominic, drinking with friends in a private booth, had already darkened his face. Whatever, with so many people in the audience, who was he to judge? When the song ended, I thought the owner would be satisfied, but he looked anxious instead. I asked in confusion, “What’s wrong? Was the atmosphere not lively enough? Should I do another song?” The owner quickly waved his hands and grabbed me, looking troubled. Before he could speak, I heard a familiar voice. “It seems I was too gentle last night.” Dominic leaned lazily against the counter, holding a glass of wine. He took a sip, then walked closer. His breath tickled my face. I lowered my eyes and said softly, “I don’t know how to do anything else. I can only do this kind of work. I’m sorry.” Dominic impatiently said, “Haven’t I given you money?” “But… but,” I bit my lip, a stark contrast to my wild performance earlier, “What if you don’t want me someday?” A faint wetness glazed my eyes, making them sparkle even more. I continued, “I heard people say Ethan White is coming back…” “Tch, so you’re looking for a backup plan?” Dominic laughed, “Finding a new sugar daddy in my own establishment? What kind of person do you take me for?” “No!” I quickly refuted, then looked up directly at Dominic, my eyes filled with an intense love that couldn’t be dissolved, “Actually, I know this place belongs to you. I… I…” “Why are you stammering? Spit it out!” So I continued, “I just thought, after you don’t want me anymore, if I work here, maybe someday when you come… I could see you from afar.” Dominic’s hand holding the wine glass paused. He seemed a bit irritated, “You like me that much?” I didn’t answer, but reached for the glass in his hand. He didn’t give it to me, instead pulling me into his arms and bringing the glass to my lips. I took a small sip, then turned my head and kissed him lightly, laughing softly, “Sweet.” Dominic’s eyes darkened, his hand on my waist tightening. Seeing his expression, I pressed on, hugging his neck. Though my voice was clearly reluctant, I pretended to be calm, “Don’t worry, I know I’m worlds apart from Ethan White. After he comes back, I’ll leave quietly. I won’t bother you two.” “But before he returns, can you… can you love me a little more?”

It turns out that acting weak and pitiful always works on men. Dominic didn’t let me work at the bar. Instead, he arranged for me to work at his company as his assistant. Tch, now we’d be seeing each other all day, every day. I went to work with him every morning and returned home together every evening. I completed every task exceptionally well, proving myself smart and capable. I could clearly feel that Dominic was no longer as cold towards me as before. Oh, and I secretly learned a bunch of cooking tutorials, bringing homemade lunches to eat with him. “I know you don’t eat onions, ginger, garlic, or soy sauce. I’ve been careful about all that. Try this sandwich, how is it?” I looked at Dominic with hopeful eyes. Step two, to capture a man’s heart, you must first capture his stomach. Imagine, who wouldn’t be moved by someone who cooks for you every day? Dominic sat on the couch, glanced at the lunchbox, and asked, “You made this?” “Yes, I watched some tutorials. The taste should be okay. Try it and see if you like it?” I said, then quickly added, “It’s fine if you don’t!” Dominic raised an eyebrow, “You commute with me every day, and you’re not free at night either. Where did you find time to watch tutorials? You weren’t slacking off at work, were you?” I hurriedly explained, my face slightly flushed, “Of course not! I… I watched them after you left at night.” Damn, he keeps me up so late every night! I can only stay up even later to watch tutorials. Dominic pulled me onto his lap, his large hands gripping my waist tightly. He said, “Then I won’t leave from now on. I’ll stay and make sure you don’t stay up late.” I immediately put on a delighted expression, “Really?” He used to go back to his own room to sleep after… well, you know. I’ve never even been to his room, only staying in the guest room. Dominic nodded, his magnetic, deep voice sounding by my ear, “Mm, come sleep in my room.” Sitting on his lap in broad daylight discussing this kind of topic inevitably led to some thoughts, inevitably led to some sparks flying. His hand slowly moved down, caressing from my waist to my butt, even trying to explore further. I felt a certain part of him changing, let out a soft gasp, and pushed against his chest with a red face, “Let’s… let’s eat first.” Dominic laughed out loud. I rarely saw him laugh so purely before, and was momentarily stunned. Damn, this face really is male lead material for a dramatic romance novel! “Alright, let’s eat first,” he was unusually gentle, but his next words revealed his true nature, “Then I’ll eat you.” He finished the sandwich in a few bites. When I asked if it was good, he said it was delicious, but his eyes were fixed only on me. Heh, men.

He went into the rest room for a moment, and when he came out, he had a tie and a black box in his hand. I thought, oh no, and the next second, Dominic blindfolded me with the tie. “Be good, we’re going to play a game of Red Light, Green Light today.” “…What?” Dominic took my hand and led me to the large office chair behind his desk. He picked me up and set me on the desk. “The rules of the game are, when I say the command, you must immediately freeze in whatever position you’re in. No talking, no laughing, no moving, no making a sound.” His hand caressed my throat, and I couldn’t help but swallow. I heard him chuckle, then he continued, “If you move or make a sound, you must accept a punishment.” He leaned down and whispered in my ear, “Understand?” I nodded obediently. He then took my hands and placed my palms flat on the desk, saying “Then the game begins.” I thought he would immediately call out the command, so I tensed up. Being blindfolded made me a bit nervous, losing my sense of sight. But Dominic didn’t say anything for a while. He kissed me. First on my blindfolded eyes, then the tip of my nose, and finally my soft lips. The kiss was brief. It was replaced by his fingers. “Mmm…” My tongue was like a small fish between his fingers, slippery and playful. I could even feel the lines on his fingertips, though that was probably just my imagination. His fingers were long with distinct knuckles. I couldn’t help but inwardly grumble, why did they have to be so long! I could only open my mouth slightly to breathe in more air. At that moment, Dominic suddenly called out the command. !!! I froze. He just had to call it now of all times! Saliva was about to uncontrollably drip out, but I couldn’t move or make a sound. Damn it, perverted Dominic! This is too embarrassing. And while I couldn’t move, Dominic could! His other hand started roaming everywhere. The enemy was too cunning. I ultimately lost. I couldn’t help but bite down on his fingers, mumbling accusingly, “You’re bullying me…” Dominic didn’t mind being bitten. He gently pulled his hand away, took out a tissue to wipe the corner of my mouth, and smiled mischievously, “You broke the rules. You have to accept punishment.” I raised my hand to hug his hand before he could pull it back completely, gently kissing it with my lips, and looked at him pitifully, asking in a small voice, “Can the punishment be lighter?” But Dominic didn’t answer. He took off his own tie and then embraced me, tying my hands behind my back. Only then did he say, “For the first time, it can be.” I moved my wrists a bit. The tie was tied quite tightly. Then Dominic started unbuttoning my shirt, but not with his hands. Mm, he lowered his head and came closer, using his agile lips. The faint dampness was like wind and clouds, elusive and intangible. Although I couldn’t see his expression, my heartbeat shamefully quickened. Ah, men! They’re all the same at their core. I scorned myself. When he unbuttoned my chest, I couldn’t help but think, if my hands weren’t tied, as a normal man, I’d really want to press his head down hard right now, making him show a vulnerable and confused expression because of me. But alas, now I was at his mercy. I got lost in my thoughts, a bit distracted, until Dominic kissed a certain spot and then called out the command. I jolted! He’s doing this kind of thing again! I closed my mouth tightly, determined not to move or make a sound, not giving Dominic any chance to torment me. Unfortunately, things don’t always go as planned. When Dominic used his teeth to gently grind, I really couldn’t control myself and let out a moan. Dominic then let go of me, laughing happily, “That’s the second time. What should I punish you with this time?” “I’ll give you a pair of little butterflies.” I was stunned. What little butterflies? I heard Dominic seem to open a box and take something out. While I was still guessing what he had taken out, a sudden pain shot through my chest. Ah ah ah ah ah damn it! I know what Dominic took out now! What kind of decent person keeps these things in their office?! Dominic adjusted a bit, then gently flicked with his hand. The metal butterfly wings clinked together, making a delicate sound. He praised, “Beautiful.”

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A sudden rainstorm led Asher to seek shelter in a lounge bar, unaware that this chance encounter would stir his emotions and change his life forever. “The first time I saw you, you were wearing a deep red cheongsam. Your pale thighs flashed before my eyes. Do you know what I thought before my brain short-circuited?” “What?” “I got hard.” “…” Asher shook the raindrops off his umbrella, gazing at the dense curtain of rain in the distance. He sighed and stepped into the stylishly minimalist lounge bar in front of him. He had heard about this place from his colleagues long ago but had never visited, as he usually stuck to a regular routine. Today was an exception. His car was in for maintenance, and with the heavy rain, he didn’t fancy taking a cab due to his germaphobia. So, he decided to wait for the rain to let up a bit before leaving. In the meantime, he might as well relax in this lounge bar. Asher put away his umbrella and sat down. His tall, striking figure attracted numerous glances, but he remained oblivious. With a calm expression, he ordered a drink and sipped it slowly. Suddenly, a flash of red caught his eye. Asher’s hand froze mid-air, still holding his glass. Whether it was the alcohol or a surge of hormones, Asher felt a tingling sensation spread through his body. His eyes were drawn to that splash of crimson. “She” had a beautiful, elegant face with subtle makeup. Despite exuding sensuality, “she” maintained a cold demeanor, radiating an unapproachable aura. “She” sat down right next to Asher, ordered a strong drink, and waited lazily, propping her chin up. It was another kind of beauty to be savored slowly. Asher’s gaze traveled downward. The red dress perfectly covered “her” thighs, yet hinted at a glimpse of pale skin. In an instant, Asher felt himself react. Embarrassed, he sat rigidly for about five or six minutes before his body gradually relaxed. Asher swallowed hard. “She” was so close to him, barely a few inches away. Close enough for him to catch “her” scent. Asher was gay, not because he had been “turned,” but because he had immediately recognized that this cold, red-dressed “woman” was actually a man. Asher had noticed from the moment “she” entered. This person had a tall, masculine frame and facial features that were distinctly aggressive. However, it seemed no one else had noticed, still entranced by the beauty that had appeared before their eyes. Asher felt a bit nervous. This was the first time he had encountered his ideal type. After about a minute, he finally mustered the courage to speak. “Excuse me, sir, I…” “She” seemed surprised that Asher had discovered “her” true gender. “She” looked up and studied Asher carefully. After a moment, “she” smiled softly. Her voice was deep and magnetic. “You’re the first one to notice. I’m Chris. And you are?” Asher hurriedly gave his name, “I’m Asher.” Chris smiled, and all the coldness melted away, revealing an androgynous beauty that was both soft and sensual. Chris’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “Asher, you like me.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement of fact. Asher hadn’t expected his feelings to be so easily read. He felt a bit embarrassed. Chris finished his last sip of alcohol, stood up, and asked Asher, “Want to come with me?” Asher hesitated for a moment but decided to follow.

Chris walked quickly, moving in high heels as if they were sneakers. It was only then that Asher realized Chris was actually half a head taller than him, probably around 6’3″. He wondered if Chris liked shorter guys… Chris opened the passenger door, gallantly inviting Asher to get in. Asher complied, feeling a bit nervous. Chris smiled, “You don’t need to be so tense. I don’t bite.” Asher loosened his tie and gave Chris a gentle smile. “I’m not nervous. My tie was just a bit tight. I’m fine now. You can drive.” As Chris drove, he casually asked while waiting at a red light, “Do you want to go home or come with me?” The implication was clear. Asher naturally agreed. After all, Chris was his ideal type. Chris’s home was a villa slightly distant from the city center. It was spacious, about the same size as Asher’s house. Asher took a shower first. When he came out, there was only one set of clothes left on the bed. Asher tried them on and was surprised to find they fit perfectly, exactly his size. Asher sat on the bed. As time passed, he got a bit bored. He didn’t have the habit of playing with his phone for long periods, so he turned his attention to the bookshelf. He casually picked up a book and started reading… When Chris finished his shower and walked into the room, his body was still damp. Chris had short, neat hair; the vivid long hair from before was just a wig. Asher felt a bit disappointed. He had quite liked Chris in the wig, but Chris looked handsome like this too. It wasn’t until Chris pressed him down and started kissing the corner of his mouth that Asher’s calm expression finally began to crumble. “You’re a top?!” Asher’s voice was filled with disbelief. He seemed to want to struggle, but surprisingly, his strength wasn’t greater than Chris’s. “Don’t move. Be good,” Chris gently bit Asher’s neck, his hand applying a bit of pressure as he gripped Asher’s sensitive spot. Asher’s body instantly went limp. All he could do was glare at the man above him with reddened eyes. Chris’s voice was husky and magnetic, seemingly possessing a bewitching power. “Relax, Asher…” With that, he spread Asher’s legs and thrust in.

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You have a beautiful canary. You keep him imprisoned in a golden cage, admiring his beauty, vulnerability, and what you consider his “ugly side”. He never hides his hatred for you, and coincidentally, you’ve never shown him your love either. “Come here.” He seems not to have heard your command. You watch him leisurely, your expression showing no displeasure. His gaze, filled with caution and observation, remains fixed on you, as if trying to guess your current mood. “I’ll say it one more time. Liam, come here.” He hesitates for a moment but eventually walks over. As he moves, the chains constantly jingle. You don’t find it jarring; instead, you watch him with a pleasant mood. “Do you remember what we’re supposed to do today?” He frowns. His once clear and bright eyes are now a dull gray, and his whole demeanor is listless, yet there’s a kind of reckless beauty about him. Yes, beautiful. In bed, you often say things to insult him. Although his parents didn’t care much for him growing up, he had a very good material life. His strength isn’t great, and his desperate resistance is easily overcome by you. You can effortlessly bring him to the bed. In his desperate gaze, you torment him again and again. At first, he would cry. Unlike his cold body temperature, his tears are scalding hot. Sometimes you gently wipe away his tears, sometimes you get more excited, and sometimes you pretend to let him go, only to punish him severely after hope has sparked in his eyes. And you, you always prefer the third option. You really like seeing his incredulous look. That fragile feeling of shattered hope. Ah, truly… irresistible to you. However, because of these actions, you have no credibility in his eyes. In the dark room, there’s a moment of silence. You twist the ring on your right ring finger, saying carelessly, “Oh? Forgot?” You know he hasn’t forgotten; he’s already trembling. He looks so pitiful. You smile. You look at his downcast eyes. “Avoidance won’t work, be good, Liam.” He slowly walks forward, like a walking corpse, and opens the door for you. This is also your wicked pleasure.

You gave him the key to the golden cage. This golden cage isn’t actually very big, but it’s exquisite. In the past, after being bullied and cleaned up by you, he would often curl up in the corner, hugging his knees. You didn’t know if he cried or not. He was quiet, not making a sound, even when tears streamed down his face from your torment, he would only make a little noise when you were particularly rough. Actually, you were unsatisfied, and this dissatisfaction manifested in even more intense sexual encounters. But he seemed to be stubborn with you, refusing to give in to your wishes. You didn’t care, it wasn’t you who was in pain. Moreover, his behavior made it easier to arouse your sadistic desires. It must be said that during those days, you had a particularly good time. But he was in a much worse state. After cleaning him up, you said, “Liam, you need to be good, understand?” … He lay on the bed, eyes closed, not sure if he heard. “Three, two, one…” “Mm.” An unwilling sound came from under the blanket. Satisfaction flashed in your eyes. As a reward, you decided to go abroad to discuss a few projects first, and not torment Liam for a while.

One time, you walked over to him, forcibly lifted his chin, and examined his face. His eyes still had a hint of redness. “Why are you crying?” He glared at you. You said indifferently, “Your performance was decent this time. Do you want to see your parents?” Liam’s expression darkened. In the first few days, he would often curse you as a beast, saying he wanted to break off the engagement, that he wanted to go home. He even attempted suicide several times. Under your repeated violent suppression and torture, he submitted.

Liam Harper was the eldest son of the Harper family, which actually held quite a high social status, though not as high as yours. Originally, the Harper family had planned to arrange a marriage between their younger daughter and you, as your public image was that of a decent person. But you said, “Mrs. Harper, actually, I’ve liked Liam for a long time.” Mrs. Harper was surprised, but remembering that you and Liam were from the same high school and likely had quite a bit of interaction, and given that their family was quite open-minded, she agreed to the marriage. Moreover, your family’s influence was broader, so of course, they agreed to the engagement. Thus, in the second year after your graduation, you and Liam got married. At first, you wore a mask of gentleness, treating him well. You and he maintained a respectful distance. After about two or three months, once you had prepared the basement, on Liam’s nineteenth birthday, you locked him in the golden cage. From then on, day and night, he could only endure everything alone. You still remember his incredulous gaze, his tearful pleas, his helpless and frightened appearance, his embarrassed face-covering… His fierce resistance in the past made you particularly excited. Sometimes you wanted him to be more obedient, after all, you were tired after a long day and wanted to relax in a gentle embrace, but he was so disobedient. Now he’s much more docile, but you find yourself missing his previous demeanor. “Didn’t you used to cry and make a fuss about wanting to go home? Why don’t you want to go back now?” His hands clenched into fists, his voice still hoarse. As he spoke, tears fell uncontrollably. He lowered his head, not letting you see his post-climax expression. “I thought…” He couldn’t finish his sentence, but you knew what he wanted to say. After all, he was now a “dead” person. In what capacity could he go see his parents? Moreover, his parents had their own new children now. How would they care about this child from a previous marriage?

When he first learned that he had been declared “dead”, his mood was very low, but you didn’t spare him. Five years had passed, and you were very familiar with his body. You easily aroused him, making him very disheveled. However, good-looking people have a kind of beauty no matter what state they’re in. You took photos. Actually, in the year he turned nineteen, in those few months when you revealed your true nature, you took many photos of him. There’s a printer at home. You personally printed those photos and plastered them all over an entire room, as his twentieth birthday gift. He said you were crazy. You laughed, pointing at those unspeakable photos, lazily saying, “How beautiful. Liam really doesn’t know how to appreciate.”

Liam actually had a cleanliness obsession. Because of this, he was very generous. During spring and autumn outings, he would buy snacks and distribute them to his friends, often one pack per person. Many people secretly said how good it was to be friends with Liam. But since you discovered this, you had to make good use of it. As for how you discovered it? You are a very wicked person. You’ve always known this. You like to see him dirty. Sometimes you deliberately don’t help him clean up. At those times, he would use what little strength he had left, his slender white hands reaching through the golden bars, grabbing your pant leg. Then, hoarsely begging you. “Help me…” The first time you were called back, you raised an eyebrow, not quite understanding his meaning. “Help you what?” “Help me… clean up…” Your expression almost instantly darkened. “What? You think it’s dirty?” “…” He didn’t know how to answer. “I feel uncomfortable…” He showed weakness. It must be said. If he had always spoken to you like this, you would definitely have treated him well. But who knows? He only begs for mercy when he can’t bear it anymore. Tsk.

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Logan had been active on Twitter for years and was familiar with the rules of fan circles. He knew that fan groups had zero tolerance for anyone insulting their idols. However, after only a moment’s hesitation, he pressed the post button. “Did you insult someone today: @ZacharyYe What redeeming qualities do you have besides your face? Arrogant, ignorant, and stupid. How could anyone like such a piece of trash?” Indeed, he had insulted Zachary, the current hot commodity in the entertainment industry. Not only did he use his full name instead of initials, but he also directly tagged him, truly testing the limits. However, Logan was fearless. It was just a small account with only 23 followers. Fans shouldn’t be able to find him, and even if they did, what could they do? He was already being generous by not using his main account to insult him. But he ultimately underestimated the abilities of fans and netizens. The next morning, as Logan was preparing to write and save drafts for his new work, his editor’s eighteen urgent calls disrupted his train of thought. He irritably answered the phone: “If there’s nothing else, I’m hanging up.” “Wait, wait! Little Wood, was that you who insulted Zachary on Twitter?” Logan snorted when he heard Zachary’s name, “So what if I insulted him?” “It’s not ‘so what,’ it’s trending! ‘Original author of ‘The Path’ uses small account to insult male lead online, it’s not just boiling, it’s exploding!’ The editor’s exasperated voice came through the speaker, causing Logan’s ears to hurt, and he had to move the phone away a bit. He realized what was going on but remained calm, reassuring, “Well, that just saved the crew some publicity costs. They should thank me.” “I’m going to check it out and see if I can make two explosions in three days. We’ll talk later if anything comes up.” After hanging up, Logan opened Twitter but wisely didn’t log into his small account. Instead, he first logged into his main account to observe the situation. To his surprise, even this author account with a million followers had been overwhelmed. He ignored the 99+ comments and messages and opened the trending list. #Please apologize to Zachary, author of ‘The Path’# #Did you insult someone today Logan# #Protect the best Zachary in the world# #Zachary has someone he likes# “Tsk, my first time trending and it’s asking me to apologize to that thing?” Logan didn’t care much about those unpleasant comments, just briefly looked at the cause and effect. It turned out that his small account and main account Logan were mutually following each other, and there was a photo of his left hand in the album that netizens dug up and found to be identical to one Logan had posted before. He didn’t care at all about how fans were cursing him and had no intention of replying. After sending a message to his editor, he simply turned off his phone and decided to focus on writing. What nonsense trending topics, is it a big deal to have someone you like? Eyesore! By evening, things had fermented more and more seriously. Many fans even began to jointly “petition,” demanding that Zachary give up the male lead role in “The Path,” but neither side had made any public response. Gossip marketing accounts began to comb through the love-hate relationship between Logan and Zachary over and over again, but no matter how much they combed, they couldn’t find any intersection between the two. In the end, they concluded that Logan was probably very dissatisfied with Zachary playing his male lead. In fact, although Zachary was undoubtedly the top traffic in the entertainment industry, his acting skills were really average. More than half of those millions of fans were there for his face. Whether or not there was data to prove it, anyway, Logan firmly believed this. Logan, who had spent three hours writing five hundred words, decided not to struggle anymore. He decisively closed his computer and prepared to go to sleep. But when he really lay down, he couldn’t help but take out his phone and watch the video that had angered him to curse again. It was a video of a movie roadshow scene. In the video, a reporter asked Zachary if he would like someone with the female lead’s personality in real life. Zachary, in a black suit, shook his head gracefully, indicating he wouldn’t. The reporter was about to follow up when they heard him slowly say: I have someone I like. Logan sneered at his phone, wishing he could poke out his dog eyes with his fingers. He gestured a few times, but unexpectedly, he didn’t hold back and poked the like button. He hurriedly unliked it, thinking to himself, damn it, will this trend again?! Out of sight, out of mind. Logan finally decided to turn off his phone and go to sleep, but a SnapChat message suddenly popped up on the screen. Seeing that familiar name, Logan’s eyelids twitched. He wanted to ignore it, but he was still curious about what the other person would say. Zachary: Are you there? Logan: If you’re here to ask if I’m the one who insulted you on the trending topic, then there’s no need to ask, it was me. If you’re here to ask why I insulted you, there’s also no need to ask, do I need a reason to insult you? Zachary had just finished work and returned to the hotel. Seeing that the other person had been typing for half a minute and sent such a message, he couldn’t help but laugh. But then he thought of something, his expression darkened, and his smile faded. He slowly typed “No” and sent it without waiting for Logan’s reply, then sent another message. Zachary: I just wanted to ask if you want to get back together? Logan looked at the message on the screen, speechless for a moment, then exploded: Go get back together with the person you like! After sending it, he felt that he had revealed his emotions too obviously. Being so angry made it seem like he still liked him. After hesitating for a moment, Logan decisively chose to recall the message, then haughtily replied with one word. Logan: Fuck off. Later, until midnight, Logan didn’t receive a reply. Logan and Zachary had a history, even a long one. In college, when he first started writing on the website, he didn’t have much popularity, so he remembered very clearly the early readers who often commented on his work. Zachary was one of the few readers he could remember. The reason was simple: while others either praised Logan for writing well or encouraged him to keep going, only Zachary, under a username, seriously said that if he ever became famous, he would definitely play this male lead. This book was “The Path.” At first, Logan thought Zachary was just showing off, but later, after each update, he could see Zachary commenting and analyzing the plot. Over time, the two got to know each other. Later, they discovered that they were actually schoolmates, and their relationship became even closer. Logan fell in love first, boldly and passionately pursuing Zachary for a month before succeeding. Five years passed like this. Zachary became a hot star, while Logan also became a god-tier author who could easily sell the copyright for tens of millions. But six months ago, Logan unilaterally proposed a breakup, ending their cohabitation. At that time, Zachary had asked many times why, but Logan never answered.

The like that Logan accidentally tapped did indeed trend again. However, unlike what he had expected, this time, some gossip netizens let their imaginations run wild, concocting a drama of a god-tier author secretly loving the current top traffic star but unable to have him, thus hating him out of love. Isn’t there a saying, the deeper the love, the harsher the criticism? Logan pretended not to know about this, but Zachary shared a love song expressing secret love on Twitter, seemingly in response, which sparked another round of heated discussion. “Is our Zachary saying he has a secret crush on someone?!” “Taking Zachary away, going to listen to the song, not interested in anyone else.” “As an outsider, I feel a bit sorry for Zachary hahaha. He played the lead role but got harshly criticized by the author, really unfortunate.” “I think that Logan guy’s criticism was quite right. What does Zachary have going for him besides his face? Fans, don’t talk about acting skills. If that’s called acting, I could win an Oscar.” “This song sounds so heartbreaking, so who hurt who hahaha…” Of course, Logan also saw Zachary’s Twitter post but didn’t think much of it, assuming it had nothing to do with him. Who knew that later, Zachary would even share this song with him on SnapChat. Logan: ??? Zachary: Do you like it? Logan: Are you crazy? Zachary: Come to the opening ceremony of “The Path” the day after tomorrow. It wasn’t a question, but a statement. Although Logan had previously agreed to attend, why did seeing Zachary say this make him so uncomfortable? Logan didn’t reply for a long time, and Zachary sent another question mark. Logan: Want me to perform a live diss of Zachary for the reporters? Zachary: … Zachary: Whatever makes you happy Zachary: It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you Logan was taken aback. Indeed, since their breakup, they hadn’t seen each other once in these six months. Thinking of this, Logan’s not-so-young heart began to flutter again. He knew he was being a bit pathetic. They had already broken up, and it should have been a clean break, but he still couldn’t help wanting to see him. After all, it had been half a year, 6 months, 180 days. Zachary: If I don’t see you that day Zachary: You better be prepared to get screwed. ????????WTF??? The opening ceremony for “The Path” was held at a high-end hotel near the film base in Hillsdale. The venue was packed, mostly with reporters from various media outlets. Logan sat on the stage with the director and main creative team, but he secretly grumbled, seeing the reporters’ fiery gazes, knowing they wanted to see him and Zachary battle it out live. Tsk, shouldn’t have come. Before going on stage, the event organizer’s person in charge smiled apologetically at Logan while “advising” him to be considerate and not start a verbal battle on stage. It would be best to clarify that he and Zachary had a good relationship, which was why he had vented on Twitter. Logan agreed with “okay, okay, okay” while inwardly mocking, do you think netizens are all idiots? They’ll believe whatever you say? Whether intentional or not, he was arranged to sit on the far left, with four or five people between him and Zachary. This way, even if they wanted to have a duel with their gazes, it would be difficult to achieve. Zachary arrived relatively late, so Logan hadn’t run into him yet. Even if they were face to face, he wouldn’t know what to say. Finally, it came to the media Q&A session at the end of the press conference. By this time, the reporters were all excited and eager to ask questions. Logan saw this and just wanted to roll his eyes. “Zachary, may I ask how you view Logan’s comments about you on Twitter?” Zachary picked up the microphone and smiled, “I appreciate Logan’s supervision.” “Zachary, do you have any thoughts on playing the male lead Crispian in ‘The Path’?” Hearing this question, Logan slightly turned his body to look at Zachary. “I’m very honored,” Zachary pondered for a moment, then continued, “I really like the book ‘The Path,’ and playing Crispian has been a dream of mine for a long time.” The reporters below nodded understandingly, just pleasantries after all, everyone would say that. However, the fact that Zachary could maintain this attitude towards someone who had publicly insulted him showed that his demeanor was indeed quite good. This statement actually gained Zachary quite a bit of goodwill. Logan appeared very calm on the surface, but no one knew what emotions were hidden beneath that rather handsome face. The next reporter then threw a question at Logan, “Logan, what’s your opinion on Zachary playing Crispian?” Logan: “Well, he needs to work hard.” The audience burst into laughter, looking at him with meaningful gazes. Zachary suddenly chimed in, “In the future, I hope Teacher Logan will give me more guidance.” He said the last four words very slowly. For some reason, Logan suddenly had a bad feeling. The reporters specially invited to the press conference all had a sense of propriety and wouldn’t throw out questions that were too sharp or embarrassing. So this press conference ended smoothly without any incidents. There was also a small banquet in the evening. Logan didn’t plan to stay long, but Zachary had specifically called him on SnapChat to come, yet didn’t even give him a glance or specially seek him out. What did that mean? Logan said goodbye to the organizers and was about to leave when he was stopped by the staff member he had greeted earlier just as he was leaving the hotel. “Excuse me, are you Mr. Logan?” “I am, is there something?” The staff member pointed to a young man holding a bouquet of flowers nearby, “This gentleman said there’s a flower order, the address is here, and the recipient is you.” The young man also came over and handed the bouquet to Logan, “Sir, here are your flowers.” Logan was confused but accepted the bouquet. He found it contained a type of flower he had never seen before, with a card inserted in the middle that only had two lines of text, and next to it was a room key card. Logan’s face darkened when he saw it clearly. “Trash flowers for a piece of trash, perfect match.” “9 PM, Royal Hotel Room 1106, wait for me.” Zachary, you bastard! Logan naturally refused to obediently go to the hotel and wait for him. Holding a bouquet of trash flowers, he decisively left.

After the banquet ended, Zachary went to the Royal Hotel, but there was no one in Room 1106. He wasn’t too surprised; if Logan had really listened to him like this, he wouldn’t have insisted on breaking up with him. Mentioning this, Zachary was extremely depressed. Zachary could swear he hadn’t cheated, hadn’t neglected him, hadn’t lied to him, hadn’t done anything to wrong him. Why was Logan so determined to break up? Was all their years of affection fake? He had asked Logan many times, but the answers were all similar. Logan said there were no feelings left, so they should separate. But this didn’t make sense. To say Logan didn’t like Zachary? Even a dog wouldn’t believe that. When Logan was pursuing Zachary back then, he had really put in a lot of effort. Zachary thought that since Logan wanted to be apart for a while, he’d let him be. Anyway, he would eventually come back to him. Who knew that after six months apart, Logan still showed no intention of coming back. Zachary vaguely felt something was wrong. He looked at the hung-up phone call, hesitated for a moment, then turned and left. Six months was long enough. His Logan should come back now. “Logan, why are you back so late?” The security guard, familiar with Logan, casually asked. “Went out for some air, to clear my head. Otherwise, I kept feeling like I was a big idiot.” “Ah? Haha, Logan, you’re really funny.” As Logan walked towards his home, he was cursing himself in his mind. Logan, you’re a complete and utter idiot. Wandering around the hotel area for 5 hours just because of a bouquet of trash flowers? He was just saying it, why did you take it seriously? What’s the use of waiting until 9 o’clock or even 11 o’clock? Didn’t you still not see a single shadow? He could hardly believe that such a stupid thing was actually done by himself! The key is that he didn’t even wait for him! That trash Zachary didn’t come at all! The more he thought about it, the more he wished he could travel back in time and slap himself. Unfortunately, time travel couldn’t be realized, so Logan could only go to sleep quickly, attempting to forget everything after a good night’s rest. However, wanting to forget everything? That was certainly impossible. Logan was woken up by knocking on the door. He rubbed his eyes and irritably scratched his head. “Who is it? So early in the morning.” Logan opened the door and saw Zachary’s rather good-looking face. For a moment, he thought he was dreaming. “It’s already 11 o’clock, and you say it’s early?” Zachary didn’t wait for an invitation and slipped past Logan into the house. Logan quickly closed the door and chased after him, “Who are you?! Did I let you in?” Zachary made himself at home, “I’ve been driving for several hours. Let me rest for a bit.” “Who knows where you were messing around last night!” Zachary paused in his movements, pointed his index finger at Logan, and said, “Didn’t I tell you to wait for me in 1106?” Mentioning this, Logan became furious: “Bullshit, you didn’t even go. You told me to wait for you?!” “You went to the Royal Hotel last night? I arrived at the hotel at nine o’clock. How come I didn’t see you?” Logan was speechless. He had waited so long at the entrance, yet didn’t see him? Logan suddenly realized that a big star like Zachary might have entered through the side door… Zachary: “Speak.” “No! Am I crazy to go look for you?” Zachary looked at him for a few moments, not asking further, then sat down on the sofa. “…” How can this person be so brazen? “Zachary! Get up, this is my home!” Logan said, then reached out to pull him, but unexpectedly was pulled into Zachary’s arms. The two fell onto the sofa. Zachary half-embraced Logan, his warm breath blowing on his face, making him feel a bit itchy. Logan struggled, “Get off! Don’t crush me!” “Don’t move!” Zachary stared quietly at Logan, “It’s been half a year since we last met. I really missed you.” After saying this, he lowered his head and tightly hugged Logan. Logan’s breath caught, and his heart began to soften, losing its sharp edges. Zachary raised his head to see Logan not reacting, lifted the corner of his mouth slightly, then gently kissed his lips. Unlike their first kiss, which was careful and tentative, this one was gentle enough. “Enough! Zachary!” Logan suddenly pushed him away hard, his face expressionless as he pursed his lips. “What’s wrong?” Zachary acted as if nothing had happened, adjusted his posture a bit, and made some space for Logan. Logan: “What do you mean what’s wrong? Zachary, we’ve already broken up.” Zachary looked up at him and said calmly: “So?” “So we should keep our distance. Zachary, please leave immediately.” Although Logan was usually easy to explode and carefree, when he really put on a serious face, it was quite intimidating. But Zachary was unmoved, even laughing, and ruffled Logan’s hair like before they broke up, “Stop messing around, Logan. Move back in.” Logan was speechless. The original mix of emotions – happiness, difficulty, hesitation, heartache – suddenly deflated like a balloon, all gone at once. Zachary had never taken the breakup seriously. From beginning to end, he didn’t know why Logan wanted to break up, and he… didn’t care. Logan smiled for the first time, but it was shallow and fleeting. “Zachary, listen carefully, I’ll say it one last time,” Logan paused, seeing Zachary’s expression sink, no longer as relaxed as before, then continued, “We, I Logan and you, Zachary, have broken up, with no connection anymore. I won’t appear in front of you again in the future, and please, don’t come to bother me anymore.” Hearing this, Zachary felt a faint uneasiness in his heart. He wanted to appear more at ease, but his words came out tense, “Logan, I haven’t agreed to break up yet.” Logan: “That’s not important. What’s important is… I have no feelings for you anymore.” “You’re lying to me,” Zachary said, “I don’t believe you don’t like me anymore.” Hearing these words, Logan couldn’t help but laugh. Yes, I don’t believe it either, that I wouldn’t like you anymore, but do you really like me? “What don’t you believe? You will eventually be with the person you like, and I will meet someone else, confess, fall in love, and spend a lifetime together. In a person’s life, they will meet many people and forget many people. You and I are just a part of each other’s life journeys.” “Even if we walked hand in hand for many years, were happy, and… loved,” Logan hesitated, then said softly, “But now we’ve separated.” “Zachary, let’s part on good terms—” “To hell with parting on good terms!” Zachary kicked the coffee table hard, a harsh and loud scraping sound making his anger seem so real. To be fair, Zachary was actually a person with quite a good temper. In all the years Logan had been with him, he had rarely seen him lose his temper. Zachary took several deep breaths, seemingly trying to calm himself down, “Logan, even if we break up, shouldn’t you give me a reason? Have I, Zachary, wronged you in any way? You say nothing and unilaterally break up. I don’t agree, and you move out while I’m not home. When I go to find you, you shut me out. Even if I did something wrong, shouldn’t you give me a chance to explain?” “But you didn’t. You just stubbornly insisted on your own thoughts. That’s fine too. I thought maybe you wanted to be apart for a while, change your mood, and you would come back one day. In these six months, how many times have I asked you to get back together? And how did you answer me?” “If it wasn’t ‘fuck off,’ it was ‘impossible.’ Logan, I really want to know, what exactly did I do that made you detest me so much?” Logan listened quietly, showing no reaction. When he heard Zachary ask, he coldly said, “You did nothing wrong.” Zachary was amused by his anger, “I did nothing wrong, so why did you break up?” Logan no longer looked at him, but stared at the oranges that had fallen to the ground, slowly saying, “I just… don’t love you anymore, Zachary.” The large living room suddenly fell silent. Logan could even hear his own heartbeat in his chest. After who knows how long, maybe a second, maybe ten minutes, Zachary suddenly laughed, breaking the room’s silence. “If that’s the case, I really didn’t do anything wrong.” Zachary ignored Logan and walked straight to the door. Logan stood in place, only daring to look up at him when Zachary reached the door. Logan silently opened his mouth, seemingly wanting to call out to him, but ultimately didn’t make a sound. “Logan,” Zachary had already opened the door but stopped and turned around to call out. Logan met his gaze, not speaking, just waiting for his next words. Zachary shook his head, ultimately not continuing.

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My husband’s first love has the same diamond ring on her ring finger as I do. I opened my mouth, ready to demand a divorce. “But the supercar you ordered will be delivered next month,” Ethan said casually. I swallowed the word “divorce” back down.I clenched my fists, the word “divorce” sliding back down my throat like a bitter pill. I could endure this, just a little longer, for the car that would be mine, but only until next month. “I bought a cute little bunny outfit. Make sure you’re home early tonight, honey,” I said, flashing him a smile. Ethan leaned down and kissed me on the lips. “Of course, babe. I can’t wait to see your little bunny outfit.” I saw Lily White’s latest Instagram story: “Finally back in the States, everything feels so familiar.” The post was accompanied by a photo taken at a Starbucks in Manhattan. But what caught my eye was the hand peeking out from the bottom right corner of the photo—a pale, slender hand with long fingers, wearing the same ring as mine. Ethan was there with her. I couldn’t believe it. Lily had barely returned, and he couldn’t wait to rush over to see her. I got out of the Jacuzzi in our Malibu beach house and began my usual skincare routine. Thanks to Ethan’s hard work over the years, I’ve enjoyed the life of a pampered princess. But now that his first love is back, it looks like my reign is coming to an end. Might as well enjoy it while I can. I was sure I’d be alone tonight, but as I drifted off to sleep, a warm body slipped into bed beside me… The next morning, I woke up, lying flat on my back, staring at the ceiling. Divorce! I need to divorce him, or I’ll be dead before I hit thirty! I reached out for my phone to check the time—11 a.m. Typical Ethan. “You’re awake? Stop lying around and get up for breakfast!” Ethan called, opening the door. He was still wearing the black apron I had bought him, looking every bit like a doting househusband. Ugh, where’s the tough CEO I married?

“How come you have time today?” I asked, looking at the meticulously prepared meal on the table. A thought crossed my mind—guilt. Is he making this fancy breakfast because he feels guilty about something with Lily? “I just finished up a big project, thought I’d take a break.” Yeah, right! He just wants to relax because his precious Lily is back in town. Workaholics like him don’t just decide to “take a break.” Ethan placed a piece of fish on my plate. “Eat up, you need to keep your strength up.” Ugh, you scoundrel! I glared at him before burying my face in my food, deciding not to say anything more. After breakfast, I lounged on the couch, watching my favorite trashy romance drama, while Ethan sliced up some fruit and settled beside me, checking the stock market on his iPad. The drama on TV was so over-the-top that I couldn’t resist pulling out my phone to scroll through Instagram. That’s when I saw it trending:#Lily White Returns.# That’s right! Lily White, once a famous natural beauty in Hollywood, had left without a word to study abroad. Her fans were devastated. Sure enough, the comments under the trending topic were flooded with her fans’ cheers: “Welcome back, Lily!” “Is Lily making a comeback? So excited!” “Finally, we get to see Lily more often!” I suddenly grew curious about Ethan’s reaction and turned to him. “Did you know Lily White is back?” “Oh, really? So what?” Ethan responded without much emotion. I snorted quietly. He’s such a good actor. If I hadn’t seen that Instagram story, he might have fooled me! That evening, Ethan’s friend Big Mike called. “Hey, sis! You and Ethan should come out tonight. My bar’s having its grand opening. I’m begging you to show up!” I looked over at Ethan, who was reading. “Why didn’t you call him directly?” I asked. “Because you’ve trained him well, sis! Ethan told me he’s a married man now, and he can’t go out at night without checking in with you first. Plus, it’s a bar—if you don’t approve, he won’t come.” What?! I almost believed I was some sort of control freak! I’ve never stopped him from going out before. I thought we were just going to show up to support his friend, but when we arrived, I was taken aback. Lily White was there too. “Sis, Ethan,” Big Mike led us to our seats. Noticing my gaze fixed on Lily, he quickly added, “That’s someone Evan Moore brought along. Apparently, she used to be a small-time actress.” Big Mike had known Ethan for years, so he had to be aware of Ethan and Lily’s history. Was he just pretending not to know? “Ethan, long time no see,” Evan Moore called from across the room, lounging on a sofa. I smiled and nodded in response. Our families had business dealings, so we knew each other fairly well. Ethan wrapped his arm around me and led us to the opposite end of the room, sitting as far from Lily as possible. I could tell he was a little upset. Hmm? Did they have a fight?

Sure enough, I caught him glancing at Lily multiple times. His face was set in a frown, and he barely acknowledged people who greeted him. What’s wrong? Seeing Lily with someone else bothers you that much? Ugh, you jerk. Honestly, I wasn’t feeling great either. Ethan and I grew up together—our families have been friends for ages. Later, I went abroad for college, and when I came back, I heard Ethan had a “first love.” It seems childhood sweethearts really can’t compete with fate, huh? After that, Lily left for some unknown reason, and Ethan turned around and proposed to me. At the time, my family was in a bit of a business crisis and needed a quick influx of cash, so I agreed to marry him. After we got married, Ethan was pretty good to me—whatever I wanted, I got. Even my mom said I was lucky to have married him; no one else could afford to keep up with my lifestyle. But now, looking at the situation, I’m starting to wonder if I really married the right person. I grabbed the glass of wine on the table and downed it in one go. The burn of the alcohol jolted me awake. This marriage has to end! “Why are you drinking so much?” Ethan grabbed my glass. “Feeling down?” “None of your business!” That drink was stronger than I thought, and soon I was feeling a bit tipsy, leaning into Ethan, my hands wandering under his shirt. Ethan grabbed my hand, his voice rougher than usual. “What do you think you’re doing?” “I’m just having a feel!” I wasn’t about to let him keep up this charade in front of his first love. No way! “Let’s go home.” Ethan didn’t hesitate, standing up and pulling me along, practically shoving me into the car. “You behave, or we’ll deal with this at home.” “I won’t, I won’t!” I kicked off my heels and sat in the passenger seat, pouting. “I’m warning you, don’t touch me, or I’ll… mmph.” I didn’t even finish my sentence before his burning lips were on mine, pinning me against the seat. Just then, I saw Lily and Evan walk past, getting into the same car together. Ah, I see now. Ethan was jealous and trying to get Lily’s attention by using me. On the drive back, the more I thought about it, the angrier I got, until finally, I couldn’t hold back anymore. “Ethan, let’s get a divorce.” “You’re drunk,” he replied flatly. “I’m not.” The cold air had cleared my head, and I was more rational than ever, even sensing the car speed up. When we got home, I had barely stepped into the bathroom before Ethan was on me, kissing me like a madman. I might not have been entirely sober, but I found myself getting lost in his kiss. Our breaths grew heavier, and Ethan’s lips gently bit mine as he murmured, his words slurring together. “Stay away from Evan Moore from now on.” Evan? What does he have to do with this?

The next morning, Ethan was already at the office, and I was left lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, feeling like I had failed yet again to start my day right. My best friend Jessica called at the perfect time. “LV just got a new shipment. Let’s go check it out!” “No way, I’m not even out of bed yet.” Jessica’s voice turned teasing. “Someone’s living the good life, huh?” “Shut up! I’ve got real business to take care of today, let’s go another time.” Today, I was determined to talk to Ethan about the divorce! After breakfast, I drove to his office. Over the years, Ethan’s business had grown exponentially, and I hadn’t stepped foot in his company for a long time. Fortunately, the receptionist still recognized me. But she didn’t seem to know Lily. “Sorry, ma’am, but you need an appointment to see Mr. Carter. Without one, I can’t let you in.” Seeing Lily being shut down made me inwardly cheer. I strutted over, playing it cool. “Miss Chen, is Ethan in?” The receptionist immediately bowed deeply. “Yes, Mrs. Carter. The CEO said you could go straight up whenever you like. I’ll get the elevator for you.” I shot Lily a smug look as I started to walk away, but she suddenly called out, “Can we talk?” I pointed to the sofa by the window. “We can chat over there for a bit. I’m in a hurry.” Lily clenched her fists and, as soon as I sat down, blurted out, “You should divorce Ethan. He loves me.” “So what? I’m the one who’s Mrs. Carter now.” I leaned back on the sofa, casually showing off my figure. “I’m the only one who can go straight to the top floor without an appointment. You, on the other hand, will have to wait your turn.” “Why are you clinging to Ethan?” Lily’s forehead veins were practically popping out; she looked like she was about to attack me. “There are security guards everywhere, so you’d better not try anything. But if you want me to divorce Ethan, that’s not impossible.” Lily’s eyes flickered. “What do you want?” “Two million, and I’ll divorce him immediately.” Lily looked utterly shocked. I continued, “I know it’s tough out there in showbiz, so let’s make it five million, and I’ll tell the press we split amicably. Seven million, and I’ll even claim we’ve been having issues for a long time.” “Your choice,” I said, grinning. “You’re shameless!” Lily spat. “Is money all you care about? How could you not appreciate someone as good as Ethan?” What kind of logic is that? “Do you need time to think it over? You’d better hurry, though, because if you don’t decide soon, I’ll raise the price. As soon as the money hits my account, I’ll start talking to Ethan about splitting our assets.” “You’re planning to take Ethan’s money when you divorce?” Of course!

Now it was my turn to be shocked. “Did studying abroad make you lose your mind? Why would I walk away with nothing? The seven million is to buy the end of our marriage, and I’ll make sure your reputation stays intact. But why wouldn’t I get half of what Ethan earned during our marriage?” “Why should you?” Lily practically jumped out of her seat in anger. I couldn’t help but laugh. “Ever heard of marital property?” “But you…” Lily hesitated before continuing. “But what have you ever done for Ethan? He’s been the one working hard all these years, while you just spend his money every day.” “Spending my husband’s money is my right!” I stood up and leaned in close, lowering my voice. “And who says I haven’t helped him? I’ve been taking care of his physical needs, haven’t I? Do you think I’ve been letting him sleep with me for free these past two years?” My back nearly breaks from all the time I spend in bed with him. Not getting some cash in return would be a total loss! Lily was still in shock, speechless, so I left her there and took the elevator up to the top floor. When I entered the office, Ethan was standing by the floor-to-ceiling windows, talking on the phone. His back was to me, tall and broad, with a narrow waist. To be honest, he was the perfect man—handsome, rich, a great cook, and amazing in bed. Sure, he might get a little too lively at night, but it was bearable. Too bad his heart wasn’t in it for me. “What brings you here?” Ethan hung up the phone and sat down. I cleared my throat, “Um, we need to talk about our…” “Oh, by the way, I have some news for you,” Ethan interrupted. “The supercar you’ve been eyeing will be delivered next month.” Supercar? “You mean the pink Lamborghini I saw at the dealership in Venice Beach? The one that’s one of only three in the world?” Ethan smiled and nodded. My eyes lit up. This is the kind of car that money can’t even buy! Ethan chuckled. “So, what were you about to tell me?” I was having an internal battle. If I leave Ethan, I definitely won’t get the car. He might even give it to Lily. I can’t take that kind of loss. Maybe I should hold off on the divorce until the car arrives? I smiled and walked around his desk, wrapping my arms around him. “Oh, nothing. I just missed you and wanted to see you. And about that car…” Ethan’s smile deepened as he pulled me onto his lap, one hand gently rubbing my waist. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure my wife gets it. But what about a little reward?” We’ve been married for two years; I know exactly what he meant by that. For my supercar, I’m willing to do anything! “I bought a cute little bunny outfit. Come home early tonight, okay?” Ethan nodded, placing a kiss on my lips. “I can’t wait to see my little bunny tonight.” It took me two full days to piece myself back together, my spirit battered and bruised. Finally, after my best friend Jessica relentlessly hounded me, refusing to let me wallow in my misery, I begrudgingly agreed to go out shopping.

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I was once adored by many as the epitome of the perfect teacher, someone idealized like Eleanor. But the very student I was determined to help drugged me, and while I was drifting in and out of consciousness, calling out for my husband, he slipped his hand under my shirt. Afterwards, he shamelessly bragged about it, spreading our intimate video far and wide. “What’s so special about Eleanor? I’ve already had her, and she’s just average.” I fell from grace, from being praised by everyone to being dragged through the mud. Later, my husband divorced me, my parents endured the scorn of others, and I was fired from Jefferson High School. Unable to bear the online harassment, I jumped off the rooftop of the school. When I came back to life, it was the day that boy transferred into our class. 1 Once again, I stood on the podium in my senior year class, wearing a familiar Bohemian dress, my feet in white sandals, exuding grace. I was still that young, beautiful literature teacher. A new transfer student, who was economically disadvantaged, was assigned to our class today, his first day. The moment he walked in, everyone turned to look at him curiously, whispering. “Holy crap, how could someone be so ugly? My excitement just got doused.” “I’m not trying to bully the new guy, but he’s making me physically nauseous. Sorry, not sorry.” He hobbled in, with a noticeable limp on his left foot, his tanned face covered in acne scars, and a large, black mole the size of a nickel beneath his bulbous nose. “Hello everyone, I’m the new transfer student. Please take care of me.” At that moment, he greeted the class with a shy smile, but his gaze was fixed on me. I suddenly stopped breathing. Samuel Brooks—no matter how many lifetimes pass, I can never forget that name, the hatred simmering alongside my memories. In my previous life, I pitied him for being a low-income student, stood up to those who bullied him, bought him new clothes, and taught him how to carry himself with dignity. But on one stormy night, Samuel followed me as I walked home alone. I kindly let him in to escape the rain, only for him to secretly drug my water. I lay on the sofa to rest, groggily calling out for my husband as his trembling hands unbuttoned my shirt. But I lost consciousness, powerless to resist. The next day, I woke up covered in red and purple marks, panic-stricken. I reported it to the police immediately, but he had vanished without a trace. During the days Samuel was missing, I lived in constant fear. Until I saw the high-definition video circulating in every group chat, captioned: “Isn’t she Eleanor? I’ve already had her, and she’s just average.” The woman in the video, being violated, gasping and sobbing for mercy, was me. The internet exploded with discussions, as earlier candid photos of me had gone viral, with netizens praising my “prom queen face,” my “Eleanor aura.” #Prom Queen Teacher Fakes Drunkenness To Seduce Student, unfit to be a teacher. He didn’t step forward to admit what he had done. Instead, he hid in the shadows, sending me an anonymous text: “Mrs. Anderson, now you and I are both in the mud. Be with me, and I’ll treat you well.” In the end, unable to endure the online harassment, I jumped off the Jefferson rooftop, desperate. I was three months pregnant at the time. I had fallen from being revered as Eleanor to plunging into endless torment. But now, as I stood on this three-foot podium again, looking down at the students, I knew the gears of fate were turning. This was my chance to save myself. He lifted his head, speaking in broken English: “The spring flows silently, the tree’s shade reflects the calm. Mrs. Hale, my name is Samuel Brooks, from the spring.” The class erupted in whispers. “Did you say that on purpose or by accident? Do you know our teacher’s name is Shades Hale?” He paused, then looked up at me with a bashful smile. 2 Our eyes met, and I shivered all over, forcing myself to calm down. After all, in this life, he knew nothing, and I could still stop everything from happening. “The new student is here. Who would like to sit with him?” Since he started school late, he was older than his peers, already twenty, and still looked unattractive. The class fell silent; no one wanted to be his desk partner. Just then, Clara Mitchell, the class president, volunteered. “Mrs. Hale, I’m the class president. It’s my duty to unite our classmates. I’ll sit with the new student.” Looking at Clara’s kind and righteous face, so much like my past self, I coldly said, “I heard you had a poor academic foundation before transferring. I’m worried you might hold Clara back. It’s better if you sit alone in the last row.” There were plenty of empty seats without partners in the classroom, but I chose the most biased approach. He was puzzled, seemingly not expecting me to be so cold and even intentionally difficult. Samuel’s lips twitched slightly, murmuring to himself. “How could it be… Mrs. Hale looks so gentle. How could she discriminate against me too?” Every word he spoke sent chills down my spine. After finishing the lesson, I practically fled to the office, my back drenched in cold sweat. I drank a gulp of scalding tea, but felt nothing. My mind raced—should I resign now and avoid all this? Getting this teaching position hadn’t been easy; it took countless nights of studying late into the night. Senior year teachers weren’t allowed to switch classes, and I was responsible for students preparing for college entrance exams. Why should I give everything up because of him? I sat in a daze, my thoughts drifting until it was time to leave. Christopher Lane arrived to pick me up, waiting at the school entrance for half an hour. Seeing me come downstairs, he hurriedly opened the car door, pulling me into his arms. “Sweetheart, you’re not feeling well. Did something happen?” Smelling his warm, familiar scent, I couldn’t hold back my emotions any longer and broke down in tears. My husband and I had a great relationship. In my past life, he divorced me temporarily to protect me from the online harassment, and we moved to another city under new identities. Later, seeing how much pain I was in, he even took a knife to find Samuel, only to have his grandmother shield him. Christopher was then outwitted and fell, never to rise again, in a pool of blood. Facing Christopher’s still-handsome face, I wiped away my tears and managed a smile. “It’s nothing, just not feeling well. Let’s go home.” Christopher, however, was deeply concerned, insisting on taking me to the hospital for a checkup. I couldn’t resist him. An hour later, the rushed blood test results came back—I was pregnant. It was at this moment that I realized I was already carrying Christopher’s child. When he discovered I was pregnant, Christopher joyfully picked me up and spun me around. “Sweetheart, this is amazing! We’re going to have our little baby!” “If it’s a girl, that would be perfect. I’ve always wanted a little Shades, just as beautiful and lovely as you.” I smiled through my tears, silently vowing. This time, I would protect this hard-won happiness. The next day, I went to teach as usual, though my voice was hoarse from the previous day, so I brought a voice amplifier. The sound was loud, drowning out all chaotic emotions. I didn’t look toward that corner but instead focused on teaching peacefully. A few days passed, and everything was calm. Until Thursday afternoon, after I had finished my last class and was heading back to the office, a few female students were supporting Samuel Brooks, blocking my path. He was evidently bullied, reeking of the bathroom, covered in bruises, and his limp even more pronounced. But I knew that this pitiful appearance was just a mask hiding his twisted nature. He was strong, yet never fought back, letting the bullies have their way with him. His fingernails were long, filled with grime, and his left hand was a bloody mess, with a chunk of skin missing from his index finger. The wound was terrifying. “Mrs. Hale, Samuel’s been bullied. His finger got smashed, and a piece of skin came off. What should we do?” The girls in my class were full of righteousness, standing up for him. Samuel looked at me pitifully, his nose scrunching up in pain, making his oily face even more disgusting. “Please help me, Mrs. Hale…” I didn’t want to care and asked the students to take him to the nurse’s office, turning to leave. But the class representative, Emma Parker, urgently called out to me. “Mrs. Hale, I remember you have a first-aid kit in your office. The nurse’s office is too far. Could you bandage him up first?” I stopped, looking at his pleading eyes and the blood still flowing from his finger. Just then, the class bell rang urgently. I suddenly nodded. “Alright, come with me. The rest of you go back to class.” Samuel’s lips curled into a barely noticeable, cunning smile. He followed me to the office, which was empty during class time. I casually opened the first-aid kit, taking out alcohol, tweezers, and gauze. “Sit down. I’ll bandage you up.” At that moment, the wind blew the curtains, causing the seashell wind chime by the window to sway gently. I carefully and gently stopped the bleeding for him. As I looked at him, his face suddenly turned red. “What’s the matter?” I asked. “Mrs. Hale, you… you’re so beautiful.” Samuel’s face flushed as he blurted out the compliment, his eyes suddenly fixated on my collarbone. Taking advantage of his distraction, I smiled and plunged his entire finger into the alcohol bottle. The exposed flesh of his finger, raw and deep enough to see the bone, was firmly submerged in the nearly full medical alcohol. “You need to be good and cooperate with the disinfection, okay?” He was terrified, trying to pull away, his face contorting in pain. “It hurts, Mrs. Hale, it really hurts!” But I continued smiling, gripping his wrist tightly, refusing to let go. The narrow bottle neck almost suctioned his finger inside. Until the alcohol turned red with blood. He bit his lip until it bled, his eyes bulging, staring at me in utter shock. For the first time, I saw clear hatred in his eyes. 3 But what he didn’t know was that in this life, I would be kind and gentle to everyone, but an absolute monster to him. Due to the severity of his injury, the school nurse sent him to the hospital. In the following days, Samuel attended class with his hand wrapped in bandages. He worked hard in literature class, always raising his hand to answer questions, but I ignored him every time. Even when he won first place in the school coding competition, bringing honor to our class, I didn’t say a word. His eyes, once full of hope, gradually grew dim. He finally came to me, asking: “Mrs. Hale, why can’t I earn your approval, no matter how hard I try?” I slowly swiveled in my chair, not even looking at him. If pity and compassion had brought betrayal in the past, then in this life, I didn’t mind being the villain. As long as I could protect myself. “Because you’re not worthy. Some things can’t be changed by effort alone, just like your disgusting heart, which is far uglier than your appearance.” Even now, I felt justified in saying these words. Just a few days ago, on my way home from work, I had caught him torturing a stray cat. When I found the poor kitten, it had already been scalded to death with boiling water. He smiled and said, “That little white cat was so arrogant. It scratched me. How can a cat be more valuable than a person?” At that moment, Samuel looked at me with hatred, his hand clenched tightly under his sleeve. I didn’t care and continued to treat him coldly. Even the head of teaching, Mr. Thompson, noticed and frowned, reminding me: “Mrs. Hale, as a teacher, you must treat all students equally. You shouldn’t be too harsh on any one student, especially those who need more care.” But I didn’t hold back, and right in front of Samuel, I said: “What’s so special about him? He has two hands and two feet and is mentally sound. If I give him special treatment, how is that fair to the other students?” He began to hate me, spreading rumors about my private life, claiming I was having an affair with the principal. But when he saw me in person, he still forced a smile and greeted me. As fall turned to winter, Samuel donned a shabby coat and ripped jeans, standing out from everyone else. I heard that his parents died when he was young, and he was raised by his grandmother, who spoiled him like a treasure. On my twenty-fifth birthday, I received the Outstanding Teacher Award at the city level, a double blessing. I had a great relationship with my students; this was a job I truly loved. Several students pooled their money to buy me a grand bouquet of vibrant flowers, which I accepted with a smile. “Clara, Emma, you two made it into the top ten in the whole grade on the midterms. You’ve always wanted to sit together, right? I didn’t allow it before because I was worried you’d talk too much and neglect your studies. But now, I’m okay with it.” “Lucas, you did well in literature this time. Why not spend a little less time on math and science and memorize more poems? Extra points are nice, aren’t they?” As I was chatting with the students, I noticed an uninvited guest in the crowd. Samuel had also come to give me flowers. Whether by accident or on purpose, he handed me a mangled white rose, the petals bruised and oozing sap. “Mrs. Hale, I saved my allowance for a week to buy this for you. Please don’t dislike it.” He handed the flower to me with hope in his eyes. But I dropped my smile, and in front of all the teachers and students in the office, I pulled out a tissue, picked up the flower, and threw it on the floor, wrinkling my nose in disgust. “Dirty.” Samuel’s lips trembled, but he silently bent down to pick up the flower and walked away. The gloomy look in his eyes sent chills down my spine. But I didn’t turn back because I wasn’t afraid of his hatred. He was used to targeting those weaker than himself while fearing those who were stronger. 4 Christopher Lane had earned a black belt in Taekwondo in his spare time. I had also learned a few moves for self-defense. When I got home, my husband was waiting for me with a large bouquet of blooming roses, his voice soft and tender. “Happy birthday, my dear, my exceptional Mrs. Hale!” Even though I was happy, I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of melancholy. Sure enough, during our candlelit dinner, Christopher mentioned that he had an opportunity to study abroad. “This is an important chance for my career, honey. It’s crucial for my promotion. But it means I won’t be able to take care of you for the next two months,” he sighed. My firm refusal caught him off guard. I knew he wouldn’t believe in something like reincarnation, so I said: “Honey, I had a dream the other day. In it, you left, and someone broke into our home and tortured me. You tried to avenge me with a knife, but were killed instead.” “We lost everything, our family shattered, and the culprit walked away free.” “How could that happen? We live in a society governed by law. Are you feeling a bit off lately?” he asked, worriedly taking my hand. In the end, with my persistent persuasion, Christopher reluctantly decided to stay, giving up the study opportunity out of concern for me. I didn’t want to hold him back from his career, but that stormy night was approaching. The night when Samuel would break into our home, leading to tragedy. Even though I had treated him differently this time, I couldn’t prevent fate’s cruel joke. I clearly remembered it was a Friday. Samuel followed me after school, begging me to let him in to escape the rain. But tonight, Christopher was delayed by traffic and couldn’t get home in time. After several unanswered calls, I grew irritated. Soon, Christopher texted me. “Sweetheart, there’s been an accident due to the rain. The highway is blocked, and I can’t get back. They won’t let us use our phones. Just go to bed without me.” By 10:30 PM, there was no knock on the door. The rain grew heavier, drowning out my troubled thoughts. My previously tense nerves finally relaxed, and I felt a wave of drowsiness, my body sticky with cold sweat. I decided to take a shower and go to bed. The hot water felt soothing against my skin. In the bathroom, my slender figure was reflected in the mirror, my lips pink, my nose delicate, my almond-shaped eyes wide and bright, with long, curled lashes that gave me a touch of allure. I gently stroked my still-flat belly. Christopher always said I was beautiful, and he wasn’t bad-looking either. Our child would surely be a little gem. Lost in thought, I picked up a towel to dry off the water. Suddenly, through the foggy mirror, a shadowy face appeared, hobbling toward me. It was Samuel Brooks! A wave of terror washed over me—how could this be? This wasn’t a hallucination. He had somehow cracked the code to my door. In the past life, when I let him in to escape the rain, he had seen my home’s password. This time, to avoid bad luck, I had changed the lock and even installed a reinforced security door. Only Christopher and I could open it with our fingerprints. Had all my precautions failed to escape the grip of fate? A cold, muddy hand reached out. I gasped, my waist suddenly grabbed tightly, another hand sliding up. “Mrs. Hale, it’s raining outside, and I’m so cold. Could you… hold me?”

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On the day my husband ascended the throne, he granted me the title of Alexandra, the Imperial Consort. He declared that I was the one who held his heart. Yet within the opulent walls of this palace, I was not alone. Zarah Bourbon, Wilma Spencer, and countless other beauties vied for his affection, each one a delicate flower in the garden of his desires. But his heart—his heart was like a durian, spiked and impenetrable, with a different woman perched precariously on every thorn. When James Windsor announced the decree to crown the Chancellor’s daughter as Queen, I was in the palace playing cards with the other concubines. The maids brought the news, and the other three women froze, their eyes fixed on me in disbelief. But I just kept playing, eating snaps like nothing had changed. “What are you all gawking at? It’s the dealer’s turn!” I said with a cheerful smile. Wilma Spencer, clearly distracted, drew a card and played it clumsily. But she couldn’t hold back and finally asked, “Alexandra, are you… alright?” “It’s always been like this. If it weren’t the Chancellor’s daughter, it would have been someone else.” I hesitated for a moment before replying. Under their admiring gazes, I smiled even more brightly, as if I were genuinely happy for James, completely unfazed. Soon, the grand wedding of the Emperor and the new Queen took place. James gave her great honor. The city was adorned, and all the provinces sent congratulatory messages. I gazed at the magnificent Queen Hall, and James’s words from our wedding echoed in my ears: “Alexandra, I will never betray you in this lifetime. Only with you by my side can I truly be happy.” But in the end, he demoted me from queen to consort, allowing another to take the primary position. The new Queen was only sixteen years old. When the concubines paid their respects to her, she ordered everyone to rise, except for me. The young girl, full of youthful vigor, her phoenix hairpin dazzlingly bright, looked at me with disdain: “So, you’re Alexandra Hemming? The King’s first wife?” She emphasized the word “first” heavily, intending to humiliate me. My expression remained unchanged as I lowered my head. “Your Majesty, I dare not presume. It’s just an old, irrelevant matter, not worth your concern.” “It’s good that you know your place. You were merely fortunate to meet the King in his troubled times, and yet you managed to become an Imperial Consort.” She seemed pleased by my submission and continued to speak more freely, “Born into a lowly merchant family, no wonder the King wouldn’t let you raise the Crown Prince. Imagine if he were tainted by your vulgarity!” Her words done, and the room fell silent. My nails dug into my palm, but before I could speak, James entered, fresh from court. He was strikingly handsome, and the young ladies blushed at the sight of him. The new Queen, Wilma Spencer, ran to him, clinging to his arm with a coquettish tone: “Your Majesty, Alexandra was disrespectful to me.” I didn’t look at James, keeping my gaze lowered as I awaited my punishment. The new Queen’s family was powerful and influential. He couldn’t, and wouldn’t, protect me. I felt his gaze linger on me for a long time before I heard him say, “Alexandra was indeed wrong to disrespect the Queen. She will be confined to Windsor Palace for half a month to reflect on her actions.” I accepted the decree with thanks, my forehead hitting the floor so hard it turned red. Rising under the sympathetic gazes of the other concubines, I walked back to Windsor Palace, one step at a time. The palace gates were locked. I dismissed the servants and sat alone on the swing in the courtyard. Gently swinging my feet, I seemed to return to the past. The days when we were newlyweds, full of love and affection. There was a time when James and I shared moments of pure joy, where laughter echoed through the halls and the world seemed ours alone. But time, relentless and unforgiving, slipped through my fingers like grains of sand, and no matter how tightly I tried to hold on, I couldn’t keep him.

Half a month passed in the blink of an eye, and the gates of Windsor Palace finally reopened. James walked in, seeing me reading. He sat down beside me. “Alex…” I ignored him, he forcibly pulled me into his arms, taking the book from my hands. “Look at me.” “Alex, must we be like this? I’ve just ascended the throne, and my position is unstable. This is the time I need the support of the ministers the most. Can’t you endure a little longer for my sake?” James’s voice was filled with frustration, and finally, even a hint of grievance. I looked up at him, my gaze cold. “James, I’ve been enduring ever since you were brought back from Sunningdale and titled King of Lennon.” “I endured when you took those noblewomen as concubines. I endured when you took my newborn child and gave him to Zarah Bourbon to raise. I endured when you married your new wife with her illustrious background and demoted me to consort. What more do you want me to endure?” My questions forced him to release me. The pain in my heart came in waves, and now, all I felt for him was deep disappointment. For ten years, I was bound to him in marriage. In the early days, when our love was a blazing fire, we welcomed our daughter, Anne Windsor, into the world. But as the years passed and he ascended to the throne, the weight of his crown settled between us. In the midst of his newfound power and the establishment of his royal household, our son, Johnny Windsor, was born—a symbol of a love that had once been unbreakable, now strained under the demands of a kingdom. Johnny was only three days old when Zarah suffered a miscarriage shortly after entering the King’s household. Her constant despair displeased her family, so without consulting me, James handed Johnny over to Zarah to raise. My child, whom I had labored over in pain for a day and night, was taken from me while I lay weak and unconscious. Now, he only recognizes Zarah as his mother. When he learned to speak, walk, and call for his mother, I was like a stranger, a mere observer of someone else’s happiness. … I couldn’t bear to think of those painful memories any longer. I pulled away from his embrace, moving far from him. “James, let’s just set each other free. Perhaps then we could both find some happiness.” His eyes reddened as he looked at me. The tension was broken by a timid, childish voice, “Mother, I’m hungry…” It was Anne, who had returned from playing outside. At six years old, she hid behind the curtains, peeking out with wide eyes at James and me, watching us argue. I forced a smile, gently stroking her head. “The egg custard has been simmering in the small kitchen, just waiting for my little foodie. Why don’t you go wash your hands with Nanny first?” She nodded enthusiastically, then hesitated, glancing between James’s stern face and mine. Finally, she tugged at my clothes, “Mother, Father hasn’t visited in a long time. Can you stop arguing, please?” My heart sank, and James’s expression also stiffened. When Anne was born, he wasn’t the King, nor was he the Duke of Lennon. I wasn’t just another consort in his vast harem; I was his only wife. That’s why Anne always called him Father. James softened his expression and hugged Anne. “Be good, Anne. When you grow up, don’t be like your mother—ignorant of what’s proper and ungrateful!” After saying this, he gave me a glance before striding away. “Mother, what did Father mean?” Anne asked, frightened by his harsh tone and shrinking into my arms. “Nothing at all. Tell me, what did you and Nanny do in the Imperial Garden today? Tell me all about it.” I held her close, gently patting her back. Hearing this, she was easily distracted. “Mother, I met a new friend today. He’s amazing; he can fly…”

It seems that what I feared most has come true. When Wilma Spencer heard that James had visited me, she stormed into Windsor Palace with a group of maids and guards. “Alexandra Hemming, you miserable wretch!” she spat, her voice laced with venom. “You may be old and withered, but you still cling to power through your daughter, desperate for favor even now!” Wilma, towering above, glared down at me before barking at the guards, “Take Princess Anne to my residence!” Anne was seized by several hands, and after a moment of shock, she burst into tears, screaming for her “Mother.” I tried to stop them, but the maids bound my hands and feet, pressing me to the ground. “Mother? I am your rightful mother! She’s just a consort with no backing, you foolish girl!” Wilma sneered before sweeping out of the room, her yellow skirt trailing behind her. I hastily wiped away my tears and rushed to the State Hall. “What’s going on?” James, who was reviewing documents, frowned as he saw me disheveled and panicked. Desperate, I clung to his sleeve as if it were my lifeline. “James, please, let Wilma return Anne to me.” “Alex, I always wondered when you’d call me by my name again, but I never thought it would be for this.” Tears streamed down my face uncontrollably, and I couldn’t hear what he was saying. “Anne is all I have left, James. Please, bring her back to me…” “Wilma just likes children. She’s only having Anne stay at Queen’s Hall for a while,” he said, cupping my face with both hands. “Besides, Alex, I should be your only concern, shouldn’t I?” “So, you knew she would take Anne?” He avoided my gaze, instead trying to pull me closer for a kiss. “Stop being stubborn, Alex. Stay here with me, and we can have more children together. Then you won’t have to withhold even a glance from me.” I felt a wave of nausea and raised my hand to slap him hard across the face. “James, you disgust me!” He was stunned by the slap, his gaze turning icy as his face hardened. After a long silence, he finally spoke. “Guards!” she commanded, her voice cold and imperious. “Lock Lady Alexandra in Windsor Palace. She is to be given only one meal a day, and no one is to attend to her needs. She will remain there in isolation until she confesses her sins and acknowledges her wrongdoing.”

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My elder sister married the man she longed for, Lord Charles. But on the night of the wedding, it was I who was sent into the bridal chamber. My sister wasn’t worried that I might reveal the truth because I was mute. What she didn’t know was that I was only pretending. “Do as I say, or your mother’s life won’t be spared.” Marianne tore off my outer robe and pushed me behind the screen. Today was her grand day, joining Lord Charles’s manor. I entered the manor with her as her dowry maid. Marianne, still in her bridal crown and gown, looked fierce, but it did not diminish her striking beauty. She drew out a razor-sharp dagger, its blade gleaming ominously as she pressed it against my cheek. I feigned terror, my mouth opening in a silent scream, my eyes wide with false fear. Marianne’s smile twisted into something dark and wicked, a glint of malevolence dancing in her eyes. “Tonight is your wedding night. Serve Lord Charles well. If you please me, your future will be filled with riches.” Marianne had long admired Lord Charles but sent me to his bed because she was no longer chaste. She had an affair with a guard in our manor. When the secret was exposed, her mother had the guard poisoned to cover up the scandal. But the damage was done; Marianne was no longer a virgin. To avoid Lord Charles’s rejection, she chose me as her dowry maid. I was her half-sister, and our figures were similar enough that she believed she could deceive him. Marianne’s threats were not just empty words. “If you slip up, I’ll break your legs and sell you off! And don’t think your mad mother will survive, either!” I bit my lip, nodded with a frightened expression, and Marianne withdrew the dagger, leaving me to wait behind the screen. Soon after, the door to the chamber was flung open with a violent crash. Lord Charles, tall and imposing in his crimson wedding attire, stormed in. I stayed hidden, not daring to make a sound. Marianne obediently sat on the bed, but Lord Charles only glanced at her briefly before turning away to pour himself a cup of tea. Marianne quickly took the cup, secretly adding a pinch of powder she had hidden in her nails. It was an aphrodisiac she had acquired. Lord Charles drank the tea, and soon his face flushed, and his breathing became labored. He glared at Marianne with anger. “What did you give me?” Marianne feigned innocence. “Oh, this… it’s just something an old nanny from home gave me. She said it would enhance the wedding night… I didn’t know what it was…” Lord Charles angrily smashed the cup, causing Marianne to jump in fright. “You dare give me such a vile substance? I’m strong enough without needing such poison! Are you afraid I won’t tire you out?” After his outburst, his condition worsened. His eyes became bloodshot, and his breathing turned more ragged. Marianne was overjoyed, pretending to apologize as she guided him to the bed and blew out the candles, plunging the room into darkness. All that could be heard was Lord Charles’s heavy breathing. Marianne yanked me from behind the screen, her grip merciless as she hurled me onto the bed with a force that knocked the air from my lungs. Lord Charles moved swiftly, wrapping his strong arms around my waist with a desperate, almost frantic urgency. I found myself sprawled atop him, his powerful, masculine scent enveloping me in an intoxicating haze. Without a word, he seized the back of my head, pulling me close as his hot lips crashed against mine. The intensity of his kiss was both consuming and overwhelming. I gasped in shock as the fabric of my clothes was torn apart, the sound of ripping fabric mingling with the pounding of my heart.

As dawn’s first light seeped through the curtains, I trembled uncontrollably as I struggled to climb out of bed. Lord Charles lay beside me, still fast asleep, his breaths deep and steady. My eyes fell to my legs, where dried blood marred my skin—a dark, cruel stain that seemed to slice into my heart with every glance. The memories of the previous night haunted me. Marianne’s scheme had left Lord Charles furious, and he vented all his anger on me, mistaking me for Marianne. He showed no mercy, and despite gritting my teeth, I couldn’t suppress my cries of pain. Marianne was the one who caused all this, yet I had to bear it all. I clenched my fists. These wounds were nothing compared to my mother’s life. I blinked hard, forcing back my tears. Gathering my scattered clothes, I struggled to dress myself. I shakily left the room. In the hall, Marianne stirred from her nap on a chaise lounge. Her eyes narrowed at me with a venomous glare, and she spat out a single word: “Get out!” Taking a deep breath, I forced myself to walk out the door. Returning to the servants’ quarters, I heated water to wash my body. As I undressed, I noticed a jade bracelet with gold inlay on my left arm. I vaguely remembered Lord Charles placing it on me after taking my virginity, saying something about it being a token. If Marianne saw this, it would spell trouble. I tried to remove it, but it was stuck. Frustrated, I decided to leave it on and hide it under my clothes until I could quietly return it to Marianne later. Marianne got what she wanted. Lord Charles didn’t realize that it was someone else who had shared the bridal bed with him. I thought she would live happily with him from then on. But the day after the wedding, Lord Charles was sent to the Southern Territories to quell a rebellion. Marianne and the Dowager Duchess led the family to see him off. Standing at the back of the crowd, I watched indifferently as Lord Charles, clad in armor, was surrounded by well-wishers. The Dowager Duchess was giving him some final advice, and Marianne whispered a few words of concern. Lord Charles’s lieutenant brought his horse, and a tall, imposing woman accompanied him. The woman greeted the Dowager Duchess cheerfully. “Aunt!” The Dowager Duchess nodded. I had heard of this woman before. Her name was Sarah Lane, Lord Charles’s sworn sister and the orphaned daughter of a comrade of the old Duke. She was accompanying Lord Charles on this campaign. I noticed Marianne’s face change instantly when she saw Sarah. Marianne was jealous by nature, and now with Lord Charles away at war, she must have been filled with anxiety over this beautiful woman by his side. Lord Charles was away for over a month when Marianne, under the pretext of visiting her mother, returned to the Moore family estate. When I got home, I found out that my mother had been sent to a remote estate in the countryside. There, she suffered from hunger and cold. I was distraught but had no way to help. One day, while I was making up Marianne’s bed, I overheard her and Lady Lydia talking outside. They were speaking in hushed tones, but I have good hearing. Marianne said, “Lord Charles will be in the Southern Territories for at least a year. If Sarah Lane takes this chance to seduce him, where will I stand when they return?” Lady Lydia replied, “You can’t just sit idly by. You need to secure your position before Lord Charles comes back!” Marianne, panicked, asked, “What can I do? With Lord Charles away, even the Dowager Duchess treats me coldly. She is not Lord Charles’s real mother. Her own son just came of age, and she filled his house with concubines. I bet that old woman is hoping for Lord Charles to die in battle so that her son can inherit the title!” “Don’t talk nonsense! Lord Charles will come back safe and sound!” Lady Lydia then suggested, “But there are things we must be cautious of. Since you’ve consummated the marriage, why not play the trick of ‘flowers blooming on the tree’…”

Marianne asked, “Flowers blooming on the tree? What do you mean?” Lady Lydia whispered a few words, her lips moving with calculated precision. I could make out her message: “You can pretend to be pregnant. If Lord Charles returns early, you can say you had a miscarriage. If he takes longer to come back, we’ll bribe a midwife to find a chubby boy and claim him as your own. And if… Lord Charles never returns, having a son by your side will protect you from that old woman.” Marianne’s eyes lit up, and she nodded enthusiastically. “Mother, you always have the best ideas!” I held my breath and slowly backed away from the door. My hand instinctively drifted to my lower abdomen.My period had been late, and I had already suspected what it meant. Lord Charles’s bloodline had taken root within me. I knew that if this child was born, it would not belong to me. I couldn’t just sit and wait for my fate to be sealed. I knew what Marianne feared most. In that instant, I had a plan. Back at Lord Charles’s manor, I deliberately changed into a brightly colored dress and stood in the garden, tending to flowers. Voices and footsteps approached from the corridor behind me, but I pretended not to hear. A clear male voice called out, “Sister-in-law?” Startled, I turned to see Henry, Lord Charles’s younger brother, accompanied by two beautiful maidservants. When Henry saw my face, his eyes widened with surprise. I knew this was the path he always took to return to his quarters. I made sure to act frightened, bowing to him gracefully. Henry hesitated, asking, “You’re not my sister-in-law? Why do you look so much like her from behind?” One of the maids answered, “This is the Lady Marianne’s dowry maid, Clara.” Henry pondered for a moment, “Clara?” The other maid added, “Clara is mute, young master. Please don’t take offense.” Henry’s expression softened with pity. He gently said, “Clara, the wind is strong here. If you want to pick flowers, you can come to my garden.” I shook my head and quickly bowed, then turned and ran away. — That night, I brought hot water into the room to help Marianne wash her face and hands. She glared at me and suddenly knocked the copper basin out of my hands. Hot water splashed all over me, and I yelped in pain, immediately kneeling before her. Marianne grabbed my chin with her sharp nails, forcing me to look up at her. She smiled coldly, devoid of any warmth. “Clara, you’re quite cunning. Young Master Henry only looked at you once today and went to beg his mother to have you sent to his quarters.” I made desperate hand gestures, trying to show her that I had done nothing wrong. Marianne slapped me hard, sending me sprawling to the floor. She was furious, cursing like a shrew, “You little wench! Don’t think I don’t know what you’re up to! You think you can latch onto young Master Henry and rise above me? As long as I’m here, you’ll never outshine me!” Her reaction was exactly as I had predicted. I noticed the pen and ink on the desk. I quickly crawled over, grabbed the pen, and wrote a line on the paper: “I beg you, Sister, please send me away so I can reunite with my mother.” Marianne eyed me suspiciously. “You really want to leave?” I nodded fervently, then wrote five more words: “Please, Sister, grant my wish.” I knew Marianne had always been wary of me, and now that I was of no more use to her, she wouldn’t keep me around to steal her spotlight. After a moment’s thought, she agreed on the spot. “Fine, since you’re so filial, I’ll grant your wish.” I pretended not to notice the malice in her eyes and knelt to thank her. — The next day, I packed a few belongings and boarded the carriage Marianne had arranged for me. The driver was a thin, wiry man who had eyed me lewdly before I got in. After half a day’s journey, he pulled the carriage into a forest, saying the horse needed a rest. I sat under a tree, clutching my bundle. The man approached me with a bowl of water, pretending to be kind. “Miss, you must be tired. Have some water.” I waved him off and stood to walk away. He followed, grabbing my arm. I pushed him away, spilling the water. His demeanor changed instantly, and he growled, “You’ll regret refusing my kindness!”

He threw the bowl aside and lunged at me. I dodged. The man rubbed his chin with a lecherous grin and said, “Little beauty, Lady Marianne ordered me to kill you. It would be a shame for a pretty face like yours to just die like that. Why not have a little fun with me before you go?” He pursued me like a cat playing with a mouse. “Be a good girl, and maybe I’ll be gentle. But if you make me angry, you’ll suffer even more!” I quickly reached into my clothes and pulled out a packet of powder. When he got close enough, I threw the powder into his face. It was red pepper powder, and it blinded him instantly. “Aaahhh—! Cough, cough…” He clutched his face, coughing violently, rolling on the ground in pain. I may have pretended to be stupid, but I wasn’t. I knew Marianne had no intention of letting me go. She wanted me dead. Thankfully, I was prepared. While he was still writhing in pain, I rushed to the carriage, climbed up, and drove the horse out of the forest. When I reached the estate where my mother was, it was still midday. I didn’t wait for Marianne to get word; I found my mother and took her away immediately. The servants were confused and tried to stop us, but my mother had a fit, scratching and biting them. The overseer cursed us, “Get lost! If you want to go, then go!” I dragged my mother onto the carriage and headed north. Only when we were on the rough mountain roads did I finally relax. We had escaped Marianne’s control! I had saved my mother! Looking back at her in the carriage, I cried tears of joy. I sobbed, “Mother, we’re free from the Moore family. I don’t have to pretend to be mute anymore, and you don’t have to pretend to be insane!” My mother, with her disheveled hair, hugged me tightly, and we wept together. My mother was a healer. She was taken as a concubine by my father after he spotted her during one of her medical visits. My father’s first wife, Lady Lydia, had a face like a saint but a heart like a viper. She treated my mother kindly on the surface but tormented her in secret. She even had my mother’s first two sons killed. I survived only because I was a girl. At first, my father protected my mother, but after his affections waned, he abandoned her. Lady Lydia continued to torment her, so my mother feigned madness to protect herself. When I was ten, I was in the courtyard, learning to sing from the maids. My father and Marianne passed by, and he praised my voice, saying it was as sweet as a nightingale’s song. That night, Lady Lydia had her servants hold me down and forced me to drink a potion that took away my voice. Marianne watched, laughing, saying that the nightingale had had its beak cut off. After they left, my mother secretly found an antidote, saving my voice, though it was never as sweet as before. My mother warned me to hide my talents if I wanted to survive. From then on, I pretended to be mute, never speaking a word to anyone but her. Now, my mother and I had finally escaped the den of vipers. I wiped away her tears and vowed, “Mother, we can never go back to the Moore family!” My mother nodded tearfully. “We should go to your aunt. Five years ago, she sent word that she had married and was living in a place called ‘Clearbrook Town.’” After much inquiry, we finally arrived at Clearbrook Town two weeks later. We found my aunt’s home, only to be told she had become a nun.

It turned out that my aunt’s husband had died of a plague three years ago. She had no children and was not welcomed by her in-laws. With no one to rely on, she had cut her hair and become a nun. We found her at St. Margaret’s Abbey. My aunt had taken the name Sister Clarice, and because of her knowledge and manners, she was appointed as the abbey’s treasurer. My aunt and my mother hadn’t seen each other in over ten years, and they couldn’t stop crying when they reunited. After they had poured their hearts out, my mother explained why we had come. When my aunt learned that I was pregnant, she begged the abbess to let us stay in a small cottage near the abbey. The cottage was old but clean and tidy. My aunt told us, “The abbess said that over forty years ago, a young noblewoman who had fallen on hard times lived here. She met a gentleman in the mountains, and they fell in love at first sight. The lady left with him but continued to send donations to the abbey every few years.” I worriedly asked, “If the lady finds out we’re staying in her cottage, will she be angry?” My aunt smiled. “Don’t worry. That lady is over sixty now, and she’s a kind-hearted woman who’s devoted to the church. She’d be happy to know that her old home is sheltering those in need.” With my aunt’s reassurance, my mother and I settled in. We planted vegetables and herbs in the garden, occasionally selling some herbs in the nearby village for a bit of money. Life was hard, but we were content and free— — Four years later Autumn had just begun, with the sun’s warmth giving way to a cool breeze. My mother had gone to the village, and I was in the garden with my daughter, Rose, drying herbs. Rose pointed to the herbs in the basket, naming them one by one. “Forsythia, Salvia, Angelica, Astragalus…” I patted her head, praising her. “Rose, you’re so clever. You remembered all of them.” My son, James, was playing nearby, chasing a rabbit with a stick. I warned him while tending to the herbs, “James, don’t run around too much. Be careful not to trample on Grandma’s perilla.” James ignored my warning and carried the rabbit outside the gate, still playing with it. I glanced up to see he hadn’t gone far, so I didn’t call him back. James’s laughter echoed as I divided my attention between the children and the herbs. Suddenly, I heard the sound of approaching footsteps and the clinking of jewelry. I put down the herbs and went to the gate to see what was happening. A group of finely dressed travelers was approaching, led by my aunt, Sister Clarice, and the abbess, Sister Helena. They were accompanying an elderly woman with silver hair and a rosy complexion. The old lady looked kind and noble. Following behind her was a large group of people, some of whom I recognized, and it nearly made me lose my balance. It was the Dowager Duchess, Marianne, and Lord Charles! The elderly woman at the front was none other than Duchess Victoria, Lord Charles’s grandmother! What were they doing here? Marianne and Lord Charles were the last people I wanted to see! I was paralyzed with fear when Duchess Victoria’s eyes lit up as she spotted James. “Oh, what a charming little boy!” she exclaimed. James set the rabbit down and folded his hands, greeting Sister Clarice and Sister Helena in a sweet voice, “Bless you.” The Duchess was delighted. She crouched down to play with James, exclaiming, “What a bright young boy! Who taught you this…” She trailed off, studying James’s face in surprise. “Oh my… this child… he looks just like Charles did when he was little!”

After the Duchess finished speaking, her lady-in-waiting, the Dowager Duchess, Marianne, and Lord Charles all gathered around. I held my breath, feeling a chill run down my spine. Everyone started talking at once. The lady-in-waiting said, “Those eyes and that face shape—he really looks just like Lord Charles when he was a child.” The Dowager Duchess agreed, “Her Grace has a sharp eye. He does look remarkably similar…” Marianne forced a laugh. “What a coincidence…” The Duchess, delighted, took James’s hand. “What a sweet child. Where are your parents?” Snapping out of my fear, I realized I couldn’t hide any longer. I forced myself to calm down. Lord Charles and the Dowager Duchess were such high-ranking nobles that they wouldn’t remember someone as insignificant as me. As for Marianne, as long as I denied everything, what could she do in front of all these people? I stepped forward and called out, “James, have you had enough fun? Come back inside and rest.” I watched everyone’s reactions closely. Lord Charles remained calm, but the Duchess and Dowager Duchess looked confused. Marianne, on the other hand, was so shocked that she couldn’t close her mouth. Hearing me speak must have stunned her. James ran into my arms, calling me “Mother.” My aunt then explained to the Duchess, “Your Grace, this is Miss Marianne, who has been staying in your cottage.” It turned out that the noblewoman who had lived here forty years ago was the Duchess herself. The man she had met in the mountains was the late Emperor! I curtsied deeply to the Duchess. “It’s an honor to meet you, Your Grace.” The Duchess smiled warmly. “Master Hyman mentioned that someone had been staying in my old cottage. I never expected it to be such a well-mannered young lady.” I offered a few polite words. “Your Grace’s compassion knows no bounds, blessing all who cross your path. It has been a great fortune for my family to have your protection.” The Duchess beamed and suggested going inside to take a look. A large crowd of people filled the already cramped courtyard. The ladies went inside while Lord Charles and a group of servants and guards stayed outside. Seeing Rose inside the house, the Duchess was even more pleased. She praised, “You’re very fortunate, Miss Marianne, to have such adorable children.” The Duchess immediately had her lady-in-waiting bring out gold coins as gifts for the children. I tried to refuse several times, but my aunt eventually persuaded me to accept. I then had the children bow and thank the Duchess. Marianne, standing nearby, made a snide remark, “Miss Marianne, your surname is Wyth? What a coincidence—there was a runaway servant in my family who also had that surname.” Wyth was my mother’s surname. I knew Marianne was suspicious, so I calmly replied, “Yes, quite the coincidence.” Marianne was about to say more, but the Dowager Duchess shot her a warning glare, and she reluctantly stepped back. The Duchess seemed to take a liking to me and took my hand, asking with concern, “Miss Marianne, why are you living in seclusion here with your children? Where is your husband?” I lowered my gaze and replied with a mix of truth and lies, “My husband joined the army years ago, and we’ve had no news from him since. My children and I had nowhere to go, but thanks to your generosity and Master Hyman’s kindness, we’ve been able to stay here.” As I spoke, Marianne’s expression darkened further. The Duchess, moved by my story, said, “Poor child, you’ve suffered so much. It must be fate that brought you and your children to my old home. Is there anything I can do to help you?” Overwhelmed by her kindness, I responded, “Thank you, Your Grace. Your compassion is truly boundless. Thanks to Master Hyman and the others, we’ve been well taken care of and have no troubles.” The Duchess continued to ask about our well-being, and Marianne couldn’t help but interject, “Your Grace, it’s getting late. Perhaps we should go and have our meal?” As soon as she spoke, the Dowager Duchess scolded her, “The Duchess will decide what we do. You should know your place. As a younger member, how dare you interrupt? Do you not understand the meaning of decorum?”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “294584”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #玄幻Fantsy #狼人werewolf #擦边Steamy #励志Inspiring #现实主义Realistic #校园School #后宫Harem #重生Reborn

My twin sister attempted suicide and was hospitalized. The bullies followed her to the hospital, taunting her and blaming her for what happened. Later, I went to school wearing the same face as my sister. The bullies were thrilled, but I was even more so, because I was a born monster. The only person who could keep my darker thoughts in check was my sister. This was my sister’s second suicide attempt. Without a moment’s hesitation, our parents called the police, their voices tremulous with fear and desperation. Yet, even in the face of the officers’ stern questioning, the main bully remained insufferably smug. “Why are you accusing me of bullying her? Maybe she was bullying me!” he taunted, his eyes gleaming with a cruel satisfaction. “Yeah, my daughter is so gentle, she wouldn’t even hurt an ant.” I watched the mother and daughter pair lie through their teeth on the hospital’s surveillance camera. My sister, who had greeted the day with a bright smile, now lay pale and frail on the hospital bed, her spirit crushed. The girl named Tasha Zayne, her demeanor a twisted mix of arrogance and malice, raised an eyebrow and smirked. “If she acts cheap, I’ll deal with her. Simple as that. What can you do? If you’re so tough, go ahead and lock me up!” After saying this, Tasha even stuck her tongue out at my sister, her expression a mask of unrepentant cruelty. There wasn’t a hint of remorse or fear in her eyes, Tasha’s mother met my mom’s gaze with disdain, quickly looking away. “Hmph, like mother, like daughter, they’re practically cut from the same cloth.” My mom let out a casual laugh. I knew she was angry. Michelle Lindh, one of Tasha’s loyal followers, found a twisted courage and turned her gaze toward my sister, her eyes narrowing with a mix of disgust and malice. “Slitting her wrists?” she sneered. “If she really wanted to die, she should have jumped from the 18th floor and made sure she splattered. What’s the point of slitting wrists if you can’t even die from it? I bet she’s just trying to scam us for money, right, Tasha?” “Hmph! She’s such a troublemaker” Tasha sneered. With insufficient evidence and since they were all minors, the incident ended with Tasha giving a half-hearted apology. At home, our little princess lay silently on the bed, completely lifeless, her body covered in wounds, big and small. My parents and I finally noticed something different. After a long silence, I said, “I’ll go to school in her place.” My parents understood what I intended to do. As I faced the mirror, the reflection that stared back at me was an eerie replica of my sister’s face.

My sister and I are twins, so identical that outsiders can never tell us apart. There were times when even our parents, who should have known us best, almost couldn’t distinguish between Naomi loves pink. All her school supplies and even her bedding are pink. As for me, I only love black. Mom often teased her with a wry smile, “Naomi, if you hadn’t come from my belly, I’d swear you were adopted.” Mom wasn’t entirely wrong. In our family, Naomi is the special one. She’s different from us, pure and kind by nature, and has been carefully protected by me and our parents. But I was born “sick,” a monster in the eyes of others, with only Naomi willing to play with me. For the safety of others, my parents kept me home to study. I didn’t mind because as long as Naomi was there, I never felt lonely. Our parents said Naomi was the family’s top priority. So, I’ve always protected her from the shadows. But we never imagined that after just a year of high school, she would end up like this. The doctor said we needed to take care of Naomi’s emotions. I stroked her forehead and whispered, “Naomi, I will avenge you.” Just then, a sudden phone ringtone broke the silence. Naomi’s face turned deathly pale, and she covered her ears, screaming. I took her phone and opened the message. It was a video showing Naomi being held under a faucet in the bathroom. Her wet hair clung to her cheeks, and her face was flushed red from being choked by the water. The culprit stood to the side, laughing. “If I catch you talking to him again, I’ll slash your face. Let’s see how you can flirt with the boys in our class then!” The video ended with a warning from the bully. Fury surged through my chest, nearly overwhelming me. I closed my eyes and shut off the phone. Naomi’s teeth chattered, and it took her a while to stammer out, “They took a lot of videos of me without any clothes on.” I patted her head gently, looking at her with tenderness. “Do you trust your sister?” Naomi nodded. I walked out into the backyard and used a hoe to dig a new patch of soil. Soon, someone else would be joining us here. Curses rang out nearby. “You’ll all be struck by lightning! You’ll die in the most miserable way!”

I shouldered Naomi’s schoolbag. From now on, I was Naomi Wyth. Annie became Naomi. As soon as I stepped into the classroom, a book flew at my face. I dodged to the side. “Tasha told you to bring breakfast, and you didn’t. You have a death wish?” It was Michelle—Tasha’s loyal little minion, the one whose laughter pierced the video like a venomous knife. Her cruel delight in the suffering of others was palpable, a dark pleasure that twisted her face into a sneer of sadistic glee I ignored her and walked straight to Naomi’s seat. The wooden desk was carved with all sorts of insults: “bitch,” “whore”… “Still admiring those words we carved just for you? Not enough? How about we carve them on your face?” Michelle’s grin grew even wider when I stayed silent. She sauntered up to me, her beady eyes gleaming with malice as she looked down, her smile morphing into a cruel sneer. “I think that’s a brilliant idea,” she drawled. “Tasha will absolutely love it.” Something feral simmered in my veins, seething and coursing through my entire body with a mind of its own. It was a wildfire of rage, and I had no intention of quelling it. Without a moment’s hesitation, I surged forward, my arm cutting through the air with a fierce intent. The slap exploded with a thunderous crack, reverberating through the room like the roar of a storm. A vivid, crimson handprint bloomed across Michelle’s face. “You dare hit me? Just wait until Tasha gets back—you’re dead!” Her voice turned shrill, like a broken chord. The other students, caught off guard, froze, their smiles fading. I narrowed my eyes. “Why aren’t you laughing anymore?” Michelle raised her hand, about to strike back, but the class bell rang. She shot me a venomous glare and returned to her seat. I stuffed the schoolbag into the desk. My hand touched something wet. The desk was filled with greasy snack wrappers, emitting a sickening stench. The homeroom teacher, Ms. Rosetta, walked in. She glanced at me before saying, “Naomi, class has started. Why aren’t you sitting down?” “My desk is full of trash Tasha and her friends stuffed in, and the chair is covered in glue.” I watched as her expression stiffened. She slowly lifted her gaze, snorting, “Are you saying Tasha did this to you?” I said nothing, just stared at her quietly. She scoffed, her laughter tinged with contempt. “Impossible!” she spat, her voice dripping with disdain. “Tasha is the top student in the grade—she would never do something like this. Even if she isn’t here today, I won’t let you besmirch her name!” Michelle shot me a smug look, nodding slightly, her lips curving into a smile. “Ms. Rosetta, she’s just jealous of Tasha. Everyone knows Tasha’s a good student.” “Sit down. If you don’t want to learn, don’t disrupt the others,” Ms. Rosetta snapped at me. I flipped the desk over, revealing the trash inside. The greasy wrappers spilled onto the floor, drawing gasps from the class. Michelle’s eyes blazed with venomous defiance. “Maybe you’re just lazy and have a secret love for snacks,” she sneered, her voice dripping with scorn. “You probably didn’t even bother to throw out your trash and now you’re trying to pin it on me!” Ms. Rosetta’s gaze was contemplative, her expression settling into a thoughtful frown. “I find it hard to believe Tasha would target you,” she said slowly, her voice carrying an edge of reluctant wisdom. “If she did, perhaps it’s time for you to reflect on why. There’s an old saying: it takes two to tango…” I dashed forward, delivering another sharp slap that resounded through the classroom. I smirked at the teacher. “Ms. Rosetta, does this sound like a one-sided slap to you?” No one expected me to be so bold. Even the teacher was stunned. Her face flushed a furious crimson, veins throbbing in her neck as if ready to burst. “Naomi!” she roared, her voice trembling with rage. “How dare you lay a hand on your teacher!” Her words were a torrent of indignation, each syllable punctuated with a fierce determination. “I’m calling your parents! You’re not staying in this school!”

My mom arrived at school quickly. As soon as she saw me, she gave a slight smile, as if to say, “Well done.” In the office, Ms. Rosetta was venting her frustrations to my mom, complaining about how disobedient I was. “All I did was reprimand her, and she dared to hit me? In all my years of teaching, I’ve never seen a student so disrespectful!” My mom tilted her head slightly, casting an indifferent glance at the teacher, her gaze filled with deep disgust. “Ms. Rosetta, don’t you think you might be the problem here? Why did Naomi hit you and not the other teachers?” The words struck a familiar chord. I chuckled. The teacher was rendered speechless by my mom’s half-smiling face. Finally, she blurted out, “Let’s go see the principal. Let’s see if they’ll keep this worthless student or me!” “Sure,” my mom agreed. The moment we saw the principal, my mom rushed forward, shaking his hand eagerly. “This little incident shouldn’t bother the principal. Naomi’s so thoughtless. How about this: my husband and I have decided that as long as the student comes from a poor but honest family, we will sponsor them through graduation.” The principal’s eyes lit up. “Really?” My mom nodded, then glanced at Ms. Rosetta with a challenging look in her eyes. “We wouldn’t joke about something this important.” “That’s great, that’s great. This really isn’t a big deal. Kids will be kids, sometimes a bit naughty. Naomi just accidentally hit Ms. Rosetta. Ms. Rosetta has taught here for so long, she’s seen all kinds of students. Naomi’s just a little mischievous, nothing more. Right, Ms. Rosetta?” The teacher trembled with rage, her mouth twitching, but eventually nodded. The words she had planned to use to get me expelled got stuck in her throat. She couldn’t swallow them, nor could she spit them out. Her face turned ashen. I smiled lightly. This was only the beginning. I was sure that my sister had once reached out to the teacher, hoping she would help pull her out of the mire. But she hadn’t lifted a finger, instead aiding and abetting the bullies. My poor sister, did you see? Sometimes the methods you despise are the ones that truly work. Even when she was driven to the point of suicide, she never told me or our parents about what was happening at school. When we asked, she always brushed it off, saying that the teachers were good and that her classmates were nice. Even now, she still protected those demons. She knew that if they fell into our hands, death would be a mercy.

Tasha Zayne returned. It seemed she had heard about my “transformation” from her classmates—how Naomi Wyth had changed so much that she even hit a teacher and made a scene with the principal. She kicked over my desk. “I take two days off, and you suddenly think you’re something special? Let me see which hand you used to hit Michelle.” I didn’t even bother to look up, just slapped her across the face. “See? I used both hands.” Tasha’s fingers clenched into a fist, her knuckles cracking. “You bitch! How dare you hit me!” She lunged at me, and we started to fight. Her tactics were childish—pulling hair and scratching arms. It didn’t take long for her to lose the upper hand. I dragged her into the bathroom and pushed her head into the sink. The scene reminded me of my sister. She, too, had been held under the water, unable to breathe. Michelle stood frozen at the bathroom door, too scared to move. It wasn’t until Tasha screamed that she finally grabbed a mop and approached. “Michelle, what are you waiting for? Help me strip her clothes off! I’m going to make sure she gets her own video circulating online!” Tasha’s eyes were filled with hatred as she screamed, her face contorted in rage. “If you beat me fair and square, I’d have some respect for you. But you resort to such underhanded tactics, it’s disgusting.” Michelle, taking advantage of a moment when I was distracted, struck me hard on the back with the mop. Tasha managed to free herself and pinned me down. “Bitch! Slut! How dare you hit me!” she snarled, her nails raking across my face. Only when she saw the blood did her fury morph into a twisted, sickening pleasure. A dark satisfaction gleamed in her eyes as she savored the moment. “Now,” she sneered with a cruel edge, “let’s see you try to flirt with the boys!” The taste of blood filled my mouth. But instead of fear, I found myself smiling. “Are you targeting me because I’m prettier than you? Are you jealous that all the boys in class like me?” I guessed right. The moment I said this, Tasha’s expression changed. “Is that why you have this seductive look on your face? Are you desperate for male attention?” Everyone knew my sister was beautiful. It was no secret. Our family had always made an effort to maintain our looks. We had our own methods. Looking at Tasha and Michelle, I couldn’t help but laugh so hard that I doubled over. People like them would make excellent beauty products.

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Title: After My Rebirth, I Danced on the Fake Daughter’s Head At the family reunion, Rebecca Reynolds held my hand, her eyes brimming with tears, “I’m so sorry for taking your life. Don’t worry, the inheritance will all be yours from now on.” I squeezed her hand back, pulling out a document renouncing my rights to the inheritance. “Okay, in that case, go ahead and sign this, Rebecca.” Before the fake daughter could object, I laid down on the floor, flailing my arms and legs, pulling my hair, scratching my neck, screaming, crying, rolling around. Eventually, I faked a seizure, convulsing and foaming at the mouth. I am the real daughter of the Reynolds family who was lost for years. Since I was little, I knew Mom didn’t love me. No matter how obedient and sensible I was, she always found a reason to hit me. Later, when the Reynolds family found me, I realized it’s because I was not their biological daughter. I thought the Reynolds family was my salvation. But my life ended tragically abroad instead. My miserable past life taught me one thing: Look out for number one. You can’t rely on anyone but yourself. Rebecca, now in shock, didn’t dare to move. She hurriedly signed the document in a panic, leaving her handprint. I stood up, brushed the dust off my clothes, and flashed a perfect flight attendant smile. “Thank you for your cooperation.” Turns out, acting crazy works wonders. So why did I spend my past life tiptoeing around, trying to please everyone? Acting wild really paid off this time! I handed the signed document to the lawyer. Some things are best left to professionals. People can change their minds, but the law doesn’t. This time around, you can keep the love, I’ll take the money. Seems fair to me.

The next day, my parents came to my apartment. My biological dad, Douglas Reynolds, carefully spoke up, “Can I take a look at the document Rebecca signed yesterday?” In this life, I didn’t go back to live with them. Instead, I chose a riverside apartment on my own. Last time, their happy family life made me feel like I was just a clown, coveting what wasn’t mine. No point forcing myself into a space where I clearly don’t fit in. It would only disgust everyone, including myself. I smiled, “Nope.” My bio mom, Darcy Reynolds, was caught off guard by my blunt refusal and scolded me with a stern face. “How can you be so heartless? Sure, you’re our biological daughter and the whole mix-up isn’t Rebecca’s fault, but your actions have been pretty harsh.” Last time around, I listened to them, didn’t compete with Rebecca. Yet, all they thought of me was a dropout who embarrassed them. They never really looked at me, not even the housekeeper hesitated to bully me either. Meanwhile, Rebecca thrived under their love, like she was some cherished princess. Was my fate just destined to be so miserable? Seeing my silence, Douglas’s face darkened. “Your mom and I are still alive and kicking, and you’re already scheming over the inheritance. How can you be so cold-blooded?” Listening to their accusations, I silently counted down in my mind. Three seconds later, I stood up, acting possessed. I flailed my hands around, running crazily around the living room. “Who took away my mom and dad? Suffering alone for eighteen years wasn’t bad enough? Now even my parents have been taken over?!?!” “Oh God, please give me back my mom and dad!” My parents were freaked out by my performance and didn’t dare to bring up the document again.

Just like in my past life, Rebecca suggested that I go to school with her, under the guise of “sister bonding.” But having dropped out in middle school, it was impossible to keep up with her in senior year. No surprise, I consistently ranked last in every exam. I’d never heard of the fancy brands, arts, or countries people talked about. Eventually, everyone started to hate me, saying I didn’t belong in the Reynolds family’s prestigious life. Rebecca used my misfortune to highlight her excellence. Over time, people knew the Reynolds family had a daughter who didn’t belong. To save face, they sent me abroad. This time, I won’t let them step all over me again. When Rebecca, smiling brightly, introduced us as twins to her friends, I slammed my hand on the table, lifted her bangs, held her chubby cheeks, and peeled off her double eyelid tape. “Open your eyes wide and take a good look. Do we look like twins?” The surrounding students were frightened by my fierce expression. “Speak! Do we? Who’s prettier?” “No, we don’t look alike… You, you look prettier.” I turned to Rebecca, “So, tell me, what’s our real relationship?” She held back tears, refusing to speak. Instantly, I flipped the desk in front of her and started acting crazed again. “Oh, the heavens! This ugly girl dares to say we’re twins. It’s a crime! I’m the real daughter, but she doesn’t let go of my place. Is she trying to take over my destiny? Heaven, help! I can’t live like this!!!” With everyone’s eyes on her, Rebecca covered her face and ran off. I calmly sat back down, grinning eerily. Word spread fast throughout the high school; Rebecca was the fake daughter. After that, she never returned.

That evening, the Reynolds parents brought Rebecca to my apartment. “How dare you tell people at school that Rebecca isn’t our real daughter? What do you gain from it?” “Well, everyone now knows that I’m the rightful heir to the Reynolds legacy, so, watch out.” Douglas, furious, jabbed his finger at my head, “I’m still alive, and I’ll decide who gets to be the heir!” I smirked. “Got bubbles in your brain, old man? Is this house yours? Do you own any company shares? What right does a freeloading gold digger have to bark orders here?” Darcy and Rebecca were shocked speechless. They usually tiptoed around Douglas’s fragile ego, always pampering him. Pamper someone long enough, and they’ll start believing it. Seeing Douglas tremble with anger, I continued to poke his sore spot. “Everything here belongs to the Reynolds family, including what you use. Don’t forget, my grandpa holds the reins. He’s the one who decides who inherits, not you. Got it?” “Respect me, and maybe I’ll let you have some scraps. If not, once I take over, I’ll kick you out.” Douglas threw his shoe at me, “You ungrateful brat! I’ll rip your mouth off your face!” I dodged easily and turned to Darcy, “Your husband is attacking your own daughter and you’re just standing there? Is this your way of making up for losing me for eighteen years? I’m your blood, and you still prioritize a leeching husband over your own kid?” Darcy stood there unmoved. “Your dad is teaching you a lesson. That’s his right.” Seeing the neighbors crowded around our door with their phones out, Douglas was forced to back down to save face. Through these incidents, Rebecca learned the hard way not to confront me directly. She started to create scenarios at school to paint me as a bully and gain sympathy, making the students hate me. What could I do? I just played along—questioning her, empathizing with her, becoming her, and finally proving her right. “Hey sis, don’t you like me?” “Drop the fake sister act, it’s annoying.” “Sis, I brought you some snacks.” “Afraid you poisoned them.” With both our efforts, everyone soon saw Rebecca as the selfless, kind one who gave up her inheritance to care for her troubled little sister. And me, Jennifer, as the arrogant, blood-related bully who was hell-bent on tormenting poor Rebecca. Sisterly bond? Funny.

One day, Rebecca didn’t come home, leaving my parents pacing in the living room, sending one search party after another with no news. It was only early in the morning when the school’s security found Rebecca locked in the equipment room. Freezing, she ran into her parents’ arms. “Maybe my sister was just playing a prank. Mom, Dad, don’t blame her.” No way was it just a prank on my part. I found out she was planning to frame me, so I locked the equipment room and turned off the heating for good measure. “Enjoy the winter chill, Rebecca,” I thought. Douglas came at me with a slap, “How could you be so evil? Apologize to your sister right now.” I rubbed my swollen cheek. Walking up to my mom, I yanked Rebecca out of her arms and slapped her twice. Dad’s debt, paid by his daughter, buy one get one free. “Say, which eye of yours saw me lock you up, Rebecca?” Terrified, Rebecca cried out. “Jennifer! Stop! Mom is so disappointed in you.” Laughable. Like I care. I put on a fearless expression, tightening my grip on Rebecca’s hair and pinching her behind her back. Rebecca yelped in pain, “Stop! Stop! I’ll tell the truth… It was my own fault. Boohoo…” “Why did you lock yourself up? No lying.” I pinched her harder. “Uh, because… I wanted to frame you.” I let her go, and she bolted like a scared cat. I turned to Douglas, “Hear that? You should control your ‘perfect’ daughter better and stop spreading lies.” In the office, teachers whispered about me. “Humph! Some people falsely accuse me and won’t let me clear myself up.” “Oh dear Lord, they didn’t even check the cameras. They want me dead!” I crawled on the ground evilly and then pretended to faint. For a few days, rumors about me harming Rebecca spread everywhere. I found my homework torn up, my water bottle filled with paper bits. Childish stuff. But no biggie for me. After using the bathroom one lunchtime, I found the door locked from the outside, with giggles filtering in. Bring it on. I stepped back and kicked the door open. Grabbing a mop, I swished it around in the toilet and started flinging it at them. Rebecca and her crew recoiled in horror as I aimed for their faces. Long spear dipped in filth, whoever’s in the way gets hit. Soon enough, they were covered in nasty stains. “Jennifer, you witch! This isn’t over—” gag They retreated, and Rebecca lunged at me. I swung the mop, knocking her down, while she winced in pain. I leaned against the door, blocking their path to the classroom. “No dirty things allowed in school.” At that moment, the teacher arrived. “Jennifer, this behavior is intolerable! Apologize to your classmates and write a 3,000-word reflection.” I scoffed, still in the doorway. “Pay attention when the teacher talks to you. Show some respect. Reynolds family must be ashamed of having a daughter like you.” “Respect for you? A corrupt teacher who plays favorites and sucks up to the principal? You sort students into tiers, using scholarships and awards as bribes. Today marks your last day on the job.” The teacher, furious, “How dare you!” “Oh, spare me. Return all the bribes you took and hope for leniency.” He had often taken gifts from Rebecca in the past, turning a blind eye to my suffering. Those who had been discriminated against for their poor family backgrounds now looked at me with newfound respect. Awkward but satisfying. The next day, we got a new teacher who devoted himself entirely to preparing us for college entrance exams. The poisonous atmosphere lifted, and the study environment became much fresher. 5 That weekend, the Reynolds family sent a driver to bring me back for dinner. I knew right away it was going to be a trap. I made sure to wear something comfortable, an outfit that allowed for easy movement. Couldn’t let clothes hinder my performance. Barely had I sat down and taken a few bites before Douglas started lecturing me. Same old accusations — selfish, rude, vulgar. Then he demanded that I hand over the inheritance renunciation agreement Rebecca had signed previously. “You weren’t with me and your mom growing up, so you’ve picked up some bad habits. But if you behave and change, you’ll still be our good daughter, and we won’t treat you poorly.” I looked at Darcy, my biological mother. “Mom hopes you can get along with Rebecca.” Some people really will neglect their own children for the sake of some undeserving man. I stood up and shattered my plate on the ground. “What a joke. When have you ever treated me fairly? Have you even asked about the kind of life I lived? I wanted to get along, but Rebecca kept targeting me. And every time, it was her who started it. Have you once, even once, stood up for me?” “Jennifer, don’t slander me. Mom, Dad, you can ask around at school. I’ve always wanted to get along…” Before Rebecca could finish, I grabbed a plate of food and dumped it on her head. “Shut up!” Douglas shouted, “Jennifer, how dare you hit someone in front of your parents!” He called in a couple of security guards to pin me down. I might be feisty, but I’m no match against two grown men. “I’ll beat this rebellious daughter of mine to death today.” Douglas picked up a stick and started hitting me. The pain made sweat bead on my forehead. Darcy didn’t intervene; she was busy wiping food off Rebecca’s head. Rebecca played the innocent, sobbing while comforting her parents that she was okay. The whole scene was ridiculous. I held back my tears. Compared to my previous life, this was nothing. After a few strikes, Douglas paused, mistaking my lack of resistance for submission. Slumped on the floor, I saw my chance. I grabbed the stick and struck Douglas straight on the head with all my strength. Douglas crumpled to the ground, unable to get up. The security guards were stunned, and Darcy screamed. She rushed over and slapped me. “Jennifer, you’re not my daughter anymore.” Fine by me; I didn’t want them as my parents either. The mansion was in chaos, and when someone tried to make a call, I raised the stick. “Who’s calling?” The maid froze, probably because I actually meant business.

From then on, the Reynolds family cut off all contact with me. Rebecca would go out of her way to avoid me at school. I heard Douglas had been in the hospital for a few days. Only a few days? I must have gone easy on him. They canceled my credit cards and took back the apartment. They even sent a lawyer with a document severing parental ties. I gladly signed it. Let them enjoy their small victory for now. For my eighteenth birthday, the Reynolds threw a huge party for Rebecca, not bothering to invite me. No big deal. I have legs, don’t I? I put on a stylish new dress and arrived fashionably late. Rebecca looked like she’d seen a ghost. “You’re not welcome here. Get lost.” Douglas soon arrived. “You signed the severance papers. Get out.” “So your family needs to get out of my house. I don’t like strangers here.” Douglas raised his hand to hit me, but my security guards stepped in — I’d brought a dozen of them this time, all well-trained. I walked right up to the stage and took the mic from the host. “Hello, everyone. I’m Jennifer, the rightful heir to the Reynolds family. Moving forward, I’ll be taking over Reynolds Corp.” Guests, many high-profile business associates of the Reynolds, started whispering amongst themselves. Douglas tried to disrupt me, but my guards held him back. I dropped another bombshell. “The board has decided to remove Douglas from all positions at Reynolds Corp and will pursue legal action for any crimes he committed while in office.” Douglas, furious, started screaming insults at me. “You little brat! Without your grandpa, you’re nothing. You think you can push me out? I’ve been with Reynolds for twenty years! Who do you think gave you this power?” “I did.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “294582”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #玄幻Fantsy #狼人werewolf #擦边Steamy #励志Inspiring #现实主义Realistic #校园School #后宫Harem #重生Reborn