Author: Momo Chan

In my last life, a severe illness I had prevented my husband from traveling to the border for a business trip. He immediately canceled his flight, pulled me into his arms, and gently comforted me. On the phone, he only told my sister: “The project is crucial. You go in my place.” But no one expected that the so-called partner was a black-hearted scam company. My sister had her organs harvested and was tortured to death. I was heartbroken. He held me as I broke down, promising in a choked voice that even though my sister was gone, he would love me twice as much. He kept his word. For ten years, he wouldn’t let me suffer a bit, spoiling me into a useless mess. Until the day I went into labor, in such agonizing pain I nearly passed out. Yet, he pressed down hard on the call button, his words dripping with venom. “If you hadn’t gotten ‘sick’ so conveniently back then, I wouldn’t have let her go alone to that meeting! I could have saved Chloe! You killed her!” “Chloe must be so lonely down there. You and this bastard child, go keep her company!” Only then did I realize that ten years of ‘love’ had been nothing but a cruel deception. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day he was supposed to leave for the border. This time, I took the phone from his hand and personally booked two one-way tickets for him and my sister.

“Anya, are you really sure I don’t need to stay? Your health…” Liam held my hand, his brow furrowed, his face etched with worry and reluctance. “I’m fine. And Mom and my mother will both take care of me. You go, don’t worry.” I shook my head, my voice hoarse, “Besides, how important is this project? It’s the result of countless all-nighters you and Chloe pulled. We’re so close to the finish line; how can we let it be delayed because of me?” Liam’s mom patted his shoulder, “Exactly! Anya’s right! You and Chloe have both lost weight because of this project. It’s about to succeed, so hurry up and get ready to leave.” My mom quickly echoed, “Yes, Liam. Chloe’s only been with your company for a year, and she’s already helping you shoulder such an important project. It’s all thanks to your guidance.” “We’ve got Anya covered here. You two just go, don’t worry.” Liam leaned down and pressed a kiss on my forehead, his voice gentle, “You focus on recovering. We’ll bring back good news.” I nodded obediently, watching him and my sister, Chloe, leave the hospital room. My dear sister and husband, in this life, I’ll grant your wish. May you be a cursed pair, bound even in the afterlife. Half an hour later, Chloe’s SnapChat updated. She leaned intimately against Liam’s shoulder, their heads close as they looked at documents, a palpable intimacy between them. The caption was a brutal stab to my heart: “My hard work and my love are both by my side. How incredibly lucky I am!” I stared at that photo, my stomach churned violently. A year ago, Chloe graduated from college and joined Liam’s company. I never imagined that, under the guise of work, the two would spend their days and nights together. The office, hotels, the car, even the marital bedroom Liam and I shared—all had borne witness to their intimate moments. For the sake of this family, I swallowed my pain and tried everything to win my husband back. Thinking about it now, it was utterly ridiculous. How could someone whose heart had already changed ever want to come back? In my last life, I deliberately stood in a heavy rain to get a high fever, stopping my husband and sister from going on that business trip to the border. I succeeded, but I didn’t foresee Chloe choosing to go alone. Nor did I foresee that the project was a vicious, predatory scam that devoured people whole. When the news came that my sister had died in a foreign land, I lived in endless self-blame and guilt. I thought I had killed her, that my pathetic selfish desire had destroyed her life and their shared career. It wasn’t until the day before I was due to give birth that I discovered a recording of my sister and husband plotting to kill me after they returned. Only then did I see their true faces! My emotional agitation from the recording led to a difficult labor. And my husband seized the opportunity to personally send me and my unborn child to the chopping block. Starting over, I only wish that despicable pair, so consumed by their twisted ‘love’, may they be a cursed pair, eternally bound even as ghosts in the afterlife! My phone screen lit up again. Chloe sent a SnapChat message, her tone innocent: “Sis, guess what surprise brother-in-law has prepared for me tonight?”

I sneered, not bothering to reply. Liam’s FaceTime call arrived as expected: “Anya, we’ve arrived. Just got to the hotel.” He looked at the camera, his voice tender: “Feeling better? Did you take your medicine?” “Did you eat well? Is your body feeling better? I’m not there with you, I can’t even feed you myself.” If I didn’t carry the memories of two lifetimes, I might have continued to drown in his fake affection. But now, I leaned weakly against the headboard, softly murmuring, “Hmm.” “I ate. You don’t need to worry. Get some rest.” “How can I not worry? Not seeing you, I always feel uneasy.” His voice was sickeningly sweet, dripping with feigned tenderness. In my last life, I was so moved by his meticulous care that I was completely infatuated, thinking he was just having a moment of foolishness and still loved me. So I willingly played the fool and waited for him to come back, only to finally be killed by him, along with my unborn child, all for his ‘love’. The next second, Chloe burst into the frame. She was wearing a bathrobe, her face flushed, with faint marks of intimacy visible around her collar. Seeing me in the camera, Chloe feigned surprise and covered her mouth: “Oh, brother, are you video calling sister?” Liam turned and looked at her fondly, then explained to the camera: “Chloe’s room’s water heater broke, so she had to come here to shower.” What a pathetic excuse. Chloe walked closer with a smile, naturally wrapped her arms around Liam’s waist, and leaned her head intimately against his broad back, flashing me a provocative smile. “Don’t worry, Sis, I’ll take good care of brother-in-law for you. Look, he’s had a long day, I was just about to give him a massage.” Before I could react, she pulled a black card from Liam’s pocket. “Oh, by the way, Sis, look at this,” Chloe’s voice was innocent: “Brother-in-law said that after this project is successful, he’ll use the credit on this card to buy me an ‘Ocean’s Heart’ necklace as a reward. He said that only I deserve the elegance of that necklace.” Ocean’s Heart! Last year, for my birthday, I had pestered Liam repeatedly about wanting that necklace, but he refused, saying it was “too flashy, not suitable for you!” A rush of blood went straight to my head, my nails digging deep into my palms. Liam gently ruffled her hair: “Anya, Chloe has put a lot into this project. This is her deserved reward. You’re always so generous, you won’t mind, right?” I masked all my emotions, weakly coughed a few times, my voice hoarse: “…I don’t mind. Then you two… get some rest early.” With that, without waiting for their reaction, I hung up the video call. The screen went dark, reflecting my pale, cold face. Less than ten seconds later, Liam sent a SnapChat message. [Anya, I’m sorry. Chloe didn’t mean it. She’s just a childish act. Don’t be mad at her.] [About the ‘Ocean’s Heart,’ I was wrong. When you get better, I’ll take you to pick out an even more beautiful one, okay? Please don’t be angry with me.] I looked at his hypocritical explanation and found it utterly ridiculous. Did he think I was still the fool from my last life, who would soften with a few sweet words? I didn’t reply, throwing my phone to the side.

The next morning, my fever broke. Despite the nurse’s objections, I checked myself out of the hospital and returned to the home Liam and I shared. I stood up, ready to clear out Liam’s belongings and start my new life. While tidying the study, I found a locked metal box. In my last life, I had curiously asked Liam what was inside, and he just smiled gently, saying it contained some of his little secrets. I never thought to open it. But now… I found some tools and pried open the small lock. The moment the box opened, my breath hitched. Inside were a thick stack of photos and a journal. All the photos were of Liam and Chloe. There were pictures of them together at the beach when I didn’t know; pictures of them at an amusement park wearing matching couple headbands; and there was even one… of Chloe in my pajamas, kissing Liam’s cheek, in Liam’s and my own bedroom. The earliest one was from the second year of our marriage. My hands began to tremble uncontrollably. I opened the journal. The first page of the journal read: “To my one true light, my Chloe.” It documented all the little moments of his and Chloe’s “love.” [April 7th, Sunny. Today, Anya got upset with me again because of work. I’m a bit annoyed. Only when I’m with Chloe can I truly feel relaxed and happy. She’s like the sun, capable of illuminating all my shadows.] [August 15th, Rainy. Chloe said she liked that limited edition bag, so I secretly bought it and gave it to her. Seeing her surprised smile, I felt it was all worth it. Anya never gets happy over these small things; she’s too boring.] [December 1st, Cloudy. I argued with Anya again today. She doesn’t understand how hard I work. I ran away from home, and Chloe found me. She stayed with me all night in the cold wind, even taking off her own jacket for me. At that moment, I truly wanted to abandon everything and elope with her.] So it wasn’t a case of love blossoming at work; they had been secretly involved for ages! Nauseating. Absolutely sickening! I had to burn all memories of Liam. I grabbed a bucket and a lighter, then lit and tossed all the photos and gifts I had gathered into the bucket. Burn! Burn it all! Burn away this disgusting past! I stood over the pile of ashes, feeling something within me slowly peel away. Just then, my phone buzzed incessantly. It was a message from my sister, Chloe. She and Liam were walking side-by-side on a bustling foreign shopping street, Liam patiently choosing an expensive scarf for her. They were dining in a high-end restaurant, she held up a wine glass, smiling brightly, and Liam looked at her with doting affection. The latest message showed a foreign businessman enthusiastically clapping Liam’s shoulder, saying in broken English: “Mr. Miller, your wife is truly young and beautiful, you two are such a perfect match!” Chloe shyly lowered her head and linked her arm through Liam’s, and Liam, too, just smiled, silently confirming everything. I finished watching with a blank expression, then tossed my phone aside. No anger, no sadness. After all, that despicable pair was about to embark on their “bright” future together. The next morning, just as dawn broke, my phone suddenly rang. The name “Liam” flashed on the screen. My heart clenched. Was he calling to announce a death? I took a deep breath and pressed the answer button. “Anya, darling, are you awake?” Liam’s voice was as gentle as ever. I froze, unable to speak for a moment. How could this be? In my last life, wasn’t Chloe tortured to death on the third day? Had the torture lasted longer for both of them this time? “Good news! The project is a success! They loved our proposal and signed the contract first thing this morning!” Liam’s voice was filled with joy: “I’ve bought tickets for tomorrow. I’ll be home soon!” Boom!

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Before my business trip, I left my daughter an unlimited black card. My only rule was for her to spend at least five million a month, to cultivate good spending habits. At first, I thought that if my daughter spent well, it would motivate me to earn more. But after a while, something felt off. She bought hundreds of luxury items in three days, ten villas in five, and yesterday, she even bought 100 adult novelty toys. I secretly flew back to investigate. But to my horror, as soon as I landed, I was informed that my daughter had been hit by a car while scavenging for anything to sell and was in the hospital, unable to even pay for her medical bills. The nurse’s voice on the phone was laced with blame: “Ms. Cross, I’ve never seen parents as neglectful as you. If you don’t come soon, you might not see your child again!” My heart pounded as I rushed to the hospital, where I found her frail and emaciated body. As my heart ached, my phone suddenly pinged with a notification: the black card had just been used for a high-end spa. I immediately stopped my assistant from canceling the black card, a faint smile playing on my lips. She likes swiping cards, does she? Then let her swipe to her heart’s content!

I got off the plane, holding a meticulously chosen birthday gift, my mind filled with fantasies of my daughter’s adorable face when she saw the surprise. But as soon as I exited the airport, I checked my phone to find over a dozen missed calls. My phone rang again. I picked it up without thinking. “This is Crestwood Hospital. Are you Skylar Cross’s mother?” “She was hit by a car on the street yesterday while scavenging for anything to sell and was rushed to our hospital.” “She’s been revived, but you need to pay the medical fees.” I froze, completely stunned, as if struck by lightning. “How is that possible?” I blurted out, instinctively. The nurse’s voice on the other end suddenly grew louder: “You’re not trying to bail on the bill, are you? Get to the hospital and pay up, or we’ll have to throw your daughter out to fend for herself!” Then, she slammed the phone down. Confusion and alarm surged through me. I immediately told my driver to head to the hospital. How could Skylar be scavenging for anything to sell? Even if she ran out of money, with a nanny at home, she wouldn’t go hungry. And with an unlimited black card, how could she not afford medical bills? As soon as the car stopped, I sprinted to her room, where I saw my emaciated daughter lying on the bed. Her arm and right leg were broken, encased in thick plaster casts, making her already delicate limbs look even thinner. When she saw me, her once dull eyes instantly welled up with tears. I went over and pulled her into my embrace, patting her back to comfort her. “It’s okay, sweetheart, don’t be scared. Mommy’s back.” Her face was covered in bruises and swelling, and her exposed arms were full of scars. In just one year, my vibrant little princess had turned into this. My daughter’s tears poured out of her. She clung to my shoulder, sobbing, “Mommy, the nurse said today’s the deadline. If we don’t pay the medical fees, they’re going to throw me out.” Her tears burned my chest, making my heart clench. I stroked her hair and asked softly, “Didn’t Mommy leave you a black card? How could you be out of money?” Her small body trembled. Only with my encouraging gaze did she finally speak: “Brandon snatched my black card and gave it to Cassidy. He said I didn’t deserve to be a Thorne family heiress, or to be with him.” Brandon Miller was the son of Doris Green, our nanny. Cassidy White was the child who was swapped at birth, and they had grown quite close. Many people said Brandon was meant to be the Thorne family’s future son-in-law. After Skylar was found, I was worried she’d be unhappy, so I immediately sent Cassidy out of the mansion, giving her enough money to live comfortably for a lifetime. I thought I had been more than fair and generous with her. I never imagined these ungrateful vipers would dare to bully my daughter. I’ll make them regret it. Seeing my daughter’s timid and haggard appearance, my heart twisted in agony. “Mommy won’t let them get away with this. No one will ever dare to bully you again.”

Just as I finished speaking, a grim-faced nurse stormed in and threw a bill onto the bed. Her eyes practically rolled into her head: “Pay the medical fees quickly, don’t think you can get away with it!” I looked at the stale, dim, multi-bed ward, and the filthy bed my daughter was lying on. I couldn’t take it anymore. With one phone call, the Dean, along with dozens of medical staff, rushed in. The nurse’s face paled. “Your attitude towards patients makes you unfit to work here. You’re fired.” After the Dean’s declaration, he immediately bowed deeply and respectfully to me, apologizing profusely. “Ms. Cross, it was our oversight. We’re so sorry your daughter was subjected to such treatment.” Only then did the nurse realize who she had angered. She tried to plead, but security guards dragged her out. I declined the Dean’s offer to transfer rooms and made another call. Less than ten minutes later, a professional medical team arrived and escorted Skylar to a private car. My sharp, efficient assistant followed behind me, her heels clicking against the floor. She reported respectfully: “During your absence, Brandon Miller started his own company, claiming to be your future son-in-law to gain advantages.” “He said you would eventually let him inherit the company and took many projects from our firm.” “He also claimed he only recognized Cassidy White as his fiancée. Cassidy has taken possession of all the assets you prepared for your daughter, and… she even kicked your daughter out of the Thorne family mansion.” The more she spoke, the colder my expression became. I had seen some cleverness in Brandon. I’d paid for him to attend the most exclusive private academies since he was little. He got a little kindness and thought he was hot stuff. Cassidy had lived a heiress’s life for over a decade in my daughter’s place. Not only did she feel no guilt, she tried to usurp her rightful place. I clenched my fists. They seemed to have forgotten what I was capable of. No one messes with Victoria Cross’s daughter! Just then, my phone buzzed with another black card spending alert. I opened it to see an entry fee for an auction. “Ms. Cross, do you need me to cancel this black card immediately?” my assistant inquired. I curved my lips into a smile: “Not so fast. Just cancel it before seven tonight.” “Also, Skylar and I will be attending tonight’s underground auction.” “Understood, Ms. Cross. I’ll make the arrangements right away,” my assistant replied respectfully. They like money, do they? I’ll give them a grand gift soon enough. “Also, investigate how Skylar got those injuries.” Thinking of the numerous scars on my sweet daughter, I felt both furious and heartbroken. The chilling aura around me startled Skylar. She cautiously tugged at my sleeve. “Mommy, are you mad at me?” “I’m sorry, Mommy. I won’t say bad things about my sister anymore. You can give her anything.” “Please don’t abandon Skylar.” Seeing her timidly trying to please me, my nose stung. What had they been feeding her?! How could I ever abandon her?! “Mommy isn’t mad at her sweetheart. Mommy’s mad at herself for not protecting her precious daughter better.” “No one can snatch what belongs to Skylar, and how could Mommy ever abandon you?” Hearing my words, her eyes suddenly lit up, sparkling brighter than stars. Soon, though, she lowered her head again, murmuring, “But Brandon said Mommy would definitely prefer the more excellent Cassidy, and if I wasn’t obedient, I’d be sent away.” “He’s the son-in-law chosen by Mom and Dad. Whoever he chooses is the Thorne family heiress.” I chuckled coldly. Where did Brandon get such confidence? He was Skylar’s senior in school, seemingly excellent in both character and academics. Young girls usually liked that type. At the time, I was worried Skylar wouldn’t know anyone when she first came back, so I allowed Brandon to continue living in the Thorne mansion to look after her. I hadn’t expected to let a wolf into the house. I lifted Skylar’s chin, looking at her tear-filled eyes. I said each word carefully: “Skylar Cross, you are the only child of the Cross and Thorne families. You will inherit everything we have.” “There’s no such thing as that ‘sister’ nonsense, and you don’t need some husband to help you. You will be the future CEO.” “Did you get that?” The little girl’s brow gradually relaxed, and she nodded vigorously. That’s more like it.

At seven in the evening, I took Skylar into the opulent and dazzling auction house, located nine floors beneath the city center. Here, anything could be bought. “Distinguished guest, please proceed to the third-floor private rooms.” A hostess in a sleek, elegant gown saw me present my badge and immediately greeted us respectfully. This badge wasn’t something you could obtain with just money; it required both wealth and power. Fewer than five guests were allowed on the third floor. The people on the first floor were multi-millionaires, yet they were lucky to even get a regular seat. “Eat up.” The private room was filled with expensive, exquisite pastries and thousands of dollars worth of drinks. I handed a plate of delicate butterfly-shaped pastries to Skylar. Through the one-way glass, I saw Cassidy White and Brandon Miller among the crowd on the first floor. Cassidy was surrounded by her entire class like a princess. Seeing her fair, supple skin and the latest designer couture, then looking at my frail daughter, My heart felt like it was being constantly twisted by a knife. The auction quickly began. Cassidy announced it was her birthday and she wanted to buy something extravagant for everyone. Every time she made a bid, I would relentlessly raise the price. “Who’s that on the third floor, always going against me? Aren’t they afraid of offending the Thorne family?” Cassidy sounded annoyed, seeing an accessory that was originally one million suddenly inflated to five million. “It’s okay, sweetheart. Money is just a number. Once it’s over, I’ll find out who they are and make them pay,” Brandon said gently, pulling out a black card to soothe her. Skylar looked at me nervously, seeing me only bid up prices but never buy anything. Thinking she might want something, I, as if by magic, pulled out a black velvet box. “Those things outside are all common. This is the birthday gift Mommy prepared for you, sweetheart.” “See if you like it?” She took it, stunned. Inside was a rare emerald necklace, once worn by a British princess. It was one-of-a-kind and utterly priceless; all the items in today’s auction combined couldn’t buy it. “It’s too precious, I don’t deserve it…” The girl didn’t even dare to touch it. I took it directly from the box, my voice brooking no argument. “Only you deserve it, my little princess.” I personally fastened it around her neck, speaking seriously. Like she had received a priceless treasure, she hugged me for the first time. “Thank you, Mommy.” *Thank you, Mommy, for not despising me, utterly worthless as I am.* A wave of warmth spread through my chest. I resolved to give her the best of everything. Anyone who had bullied her would face severe consequences. After a brief mother-daughter chat, I took a work call. When I returned, I saw Skylar surrounded on the first floor. “Skylar Cross, Cassidy didn’t even invite you. Why are you so thick-skinned, tagging along?” “Today, Miss Thorne is treating the whole class to an experience, and she’s bought something extravagant for each of us, but that doesn’t include a little street rat like you!” “What cheap garbage is that around her neck? So green, it looks totally fake.” The short-haired girl spoke, and directly yanked the necklace off Skylar’s neck, leaving a bruised, bleeding mark. “I bet she’s still dreaming of being a rich heiress. She even has the nerve to say she’s a Thorne family member, hahaha!” A jock said this, and everyone burst into laughter, throwing insults at her, a barrage of “bitch” and “imposter.” In the chaos, someone snatched her crutch, and several hands pushed her to the ground. Seeing this, I instantly understood how Skylar had gotten her injuries. “Stop!”

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I had been in a contract marriage with Noah, the incubus CEO, for three years without any real relationship. The day I proposed divorce, he calmly agreed, but suddenly pop-up comments appeared above his head: “You psycho, the chains and toys in the basement are already customized to her size. Stop pretending to be a gentleman.” “Girl, the second you sign those papers, you’ll wake up in an intimate situation with that creepy guy you hate.” “Oh boy, the captivity play is finally coming! With all that pent-up hatred, it’s gonna be intense! Isn’t an incubus supposed to have barbs? Little miss evil deserves to have her eyes roll back…” “Sigh, you fool. If you had just been a bit nicer to him these past few years, this love-crazed psycho would’ve worshipped the ground you walked on. Now his love has twisted into hatred…” My hand trembled as I was about to sign. I looked up at the expressionless man before me: “Um, maybe we shouldn’t get divorced after all.” 0 “What?” Noah’s thin eyelids flickered slightly, his tone indifferent. His nonchalant attitude made me wonder if I had imagined those pop-up comments. I took a deep breath, put down the half-signed pen, and scrambled for an explanation: “I suddenly don’t want a divorce anymore. We’ve been together for three years, we’re used to each other’s presence. To be honest, I think I’d miss you…” As I trailed off, the man’s expression grew increasingly confused. I lost my confidence and my voice got softer and softer. My marriage to Noah had been an accident. Five years ago, ever since a poor intern named Tina Su joined the company, my smooth-sailing life had fallen apart. My childhood sweetheart, who had promised to take care of me for life, fell for her instead. He publicly broke off our engagement, humiliating me. Even my usually doting parents inexplicably took Tina’s side. Consumed by jealousy, I impulsively married Noah Song, the rumored cold and vicious incubus CEO that everyone avoided, just to prove I wasn’t unwanted. For three years after the wedding, I kept trying to get back at Tina but failed miserably each time. Either Noah would find out and stop me in advance, or my schemes would backfire spectacularly. Recently, my attempts to frame Tina were exposed. I became a social pariah, with many friends cutting ties. I knew Noah had always despised my vicious behavior and favored Tina. I figured I might as well dump him first before he could abandon me like the others. It would at least make me look more in control. When I texted about wanting a divorce, Noah was in the middle of an important meeting. But he called back almost immediately. “Reason?” His voice came through the phone. I laughed maliciously: “Last time I accidentally saw your tail when the bathroom door wasn’t closed properly. It was all slimy and gross.” So now when I said I “couldn’t bear to leave him”, it was so unconvincing that even I didn’t believe it… “You’re sure you don’t want a divorce?” Instead of the expected cold laughter, the man’s deep voice snapped me back to reality. “I don’t want to divorce for now.” I studied Noah’s expression, but saw no trace of joy on his face. “As you wish.” After a few seconds, he took the half-signed divorce agreement on the table and put it through the shredder. The pop-up comments appeared again: “What’s going on with the evil female lead? Did she suddenly grow a brain?” “Is Lily finally wising up and planning to use Noah? It might be too late though, his hatred has already taken root.” “Who says it’s too late? The timing is perfect! Didn’t you see how pleased he looked when he shredded those divorce papers? That paper shredder cracked me up, the guy is so afraid she’ll change her mind!” “Keep it up girl, don’t stop! Go all in! Noah’s a psycho incubus with no morals, and you’re the villainess. You two are made for each other. If you win him over, taking down Tina will be a piece of cake!” 0

It took me an afternoon to process everything. I finally understood that the world I lived in was actually a romance novel. Tina was the female lead, while I was the evil supporting character destined to be imprisoned to death by the male lead. No wonder everyone who got close to Tina was drawn to her, as if the whole world revolved around her. There was too much information to take in today. After showering that night, I opened my phone hoping to relax my mind a bit, only to see an onslaught of hateful comments. All my social media accounts had been flooded. Netizens were defending Tina and criticizing me. My ex-fiancé Ethan sent me a Snapchat message: “Lily, don’t think I don’t know what you’re up to. You’re just using these dirty tricks to try and force me to leave Tina and be with you.” “Hah, all this trouble just to see me? Fine, you win. Meet me at the usual place Friday afternoon!” I didn’t reply. I blocked him and turned off my phone screen. The pop-up comments scrolled by: “I’m not trying to whitewash her, but the villainess’s actions aren’t completely unreasonable. A proud princess of a wealthy family, overnight her parents, lover, and friends all became obsessed with another girl and ignored her. I’d go crazy too if I were her.” “The villainess is beautiful and rich, why does she keep losing to the female lead who can’t even tell Word from Google Docs? This stupid novel has no logic…” “If I were the author, I’d slap some sense into the female lead, punch the male lead twice, lock up the villainess with the psycho second male lead, and not let them out of the basement until they have 8 kids. How’s that?” “…” Not good at all. After calming down, I prepared for bed. Just as I took off my underwear, the bedroom door suddenly opened. Noah’s gaze traveled up and down my body. I quickly grabbed my robe and covered myself. “Sorry, you didn’t lock the door.” Noah stared at me intently, his Adam’s apple bobbing. Black scales flickered across his skin. Incubi involuntarily reveal their true form when aroused… The word “Get out” was on the tip of my tongue. But I saw the pop-up comment: “I can already guess the villainess is going to say ‘get out’ with a look of disgust on her face. What a waste of a good woman. This is how the second male lead’s love gets eroded bit by bit.” “Lily, be gentler with your husband! If you slap him now, your mouth is going to suffer greatly in that basement later. Split lips are very painful, you know.” Warned by the pop-up comments, I quickly changed my tone and gave Noah a slight smile: “It’s okay, hon-” Noah was about to leave the room but stopped in his tracks. His eyes darkened as he waited for me to finish. Damn, it was those pop-up comments constantly saying “hubby” that threw me off… “Hurry up and say it! One ‘hubby’ and he’d give his life for you. The female lead would be nothing.” “Can we not make the second male lead sound so cheap? After three years of cold violence, he definitely hates the villainess more than he loves her. Besides, didn’t you guys forget? The second male lead imprisoned the villainess to death to protect the female lead.” The pop-up comments split into two arguing factions. I raised an eyebrow, wanting to test the validity of this information. I decided to flirt a bit: “Noah, do you think I have a nice body?” “It’s alright.” The man lowered his eyes, his expression unreadable. “You stubborn idiot, you won’t get a wife by being so tight-lipped. No wonder the villainess still likes the male lead after marrying you for so long. You kind of deserve it.” “Is it just me or does the villainess suddenly not seem to hate the second male lead anymore? Are we evil couple shippers finally getting some good content??” Not giving up, I took a step forward and teased: “How would you know if you haven’t looked properly?” “I don’t need to look.” Noah replied coldly, but his fingertips involuntarily curled, the joints turning slightly pink as he nearly tore holes in his pants. I never noticed before how cute this man looked when he was shy. I noticed Noah’s collar was messed up and reached out to fix it for him. “Don’t touch me.” A cold warning sounded above my head. Harsh. I froze, remembering the arguing pop-up comments from earlier. It made sense. I had never shown Noah any kindness these past three years. Meanwhile Tina was like a little sun, always warmly encouraging him to overcome his trauma. It was normal for Noah to hate me. I laughed self-deprecatingly and withdrew my outstretched arm: “Remember to close the door on your way out. I’m going to sleep.” The man closed the door, but instead of leaving, he walked towards me step by step. His breathing grew increasingly hot and heavy, his eyes reddening from the effort of holding back. I finally realized something was wrong: “Noah, what’s wrong? Do you have a fever?” Pop-up comment: “More accurately, he’s in heat… Noah, don’t fall too hard! The villainess was just casually flirting, and you’ve already triggered your mating season early.” “Mating season?” I muttered to myself. How did I never know Noah had a mating season in our three years of marriage? Pop-up comment: “The villainess is so clueless, she actually thought the second male lead was asexual. Hello, he’s an incubus! Plus you have an amazing body and the best looks in the whole book. He just didn’t want to force himself on you.” “During previous mating seasons, Noah would steal one of your worn clothes and hide away, not letting you see him.” “Speaking of those clothes, they’re in quite a pitiful state now, nearly worn through by the well-endowed second male lead…” I stared blankly at the scrolling comments, feeling like I was looking at a screen full of censored text. So earlier when he didn’t let me touch him, was it because of his mating season? Noah buried his face in the crook of my neck, nuzzling back and forth restlessly. His pale skin flushed red with desire, weakening his usual aloof aura. Before, I had been so focused on getting back at Tina and trying to win back Ethan that I never really looked at Noah properly. I didn’t realize this man could be so breathtakingly handsome. His features were even more exquisite than those of TV stars. 0

“There’s… medicine and syringes in the study drawer… go get them…” Noah’s voice was broken and intermittent as he tried desperately to hide the patterns and scales emerging on his body. Looking at the man pushed to his limit, his lips bitten bloody, his clothes soaked with sweat and clinging to his body, outlining tantalizing abdominal muscles… I suddenly changed my mind. Three years of sleeping alone in an empty bed, while I may not have the intense urges of an incubus, I was still a normal person with needs. Although the first clause of our marriage contract, which I wrote myself, stated: No romance, only money. Taking advantage strictly forbidden. But I was the morally bankrupt villainess, wasn’t I? What use did I have for keeping promises… Having made up my mind, I gently patted the man’s face and whispered: “Noah, remember to be gentle.” “Don’t touch me, I’m dirty…” Noah’s whole body trembled at my touch, but he still clung to his last shred of self-control. “But I want to…” I took off my robe, used my fingertips to wipe the blood from his lips, and stood on tiptoe to kiss him. Pop-up comments: “What’s going on, the villainess actually made the first move!” “That face pat, ahhhh, I’m so invested! Sister, do you need another dog?” “Love mixed with hate, perfection. Love born from hatred, even better!” “My heart is racing, my hands are shaking, are our villainous couple finally going to do the deed?!” The moment our lips touched, Noah immediately took control. His large warm hands gripped the back of my head. The air was forcibly stolen from my lungs, making my legs go weak. A thick black “rope” had wrapped around my waist at some point. It was too tight, causing me some pain. I let out a muffled groan and tried to push it aside. “I’m sorry, don’t… don’t look…” Noah snapped out of his daze, his pupils contracting sharply as he desperately tried to hide the tail that had emerged due to his arousal. Before I could react, the man had already fled the room in a panic. Soon, I heard the sound of drawers being rummaged through in the study next door. The air filled with an indescribable medicinal smell. Leaning against the wardrobe, I gasped for fresh air while reading the scrolling pop-up comments: “Noah, you coward, get back here! I’ve already taken my pants off, why are you running?” “Enough, am I the only one who feels bad for the second male lead? He’s been bullied and humiliated since childhood for being an incubus. He was overjoyed to marry his dream girl, only for her to find him disgusting too. Of course he’d be insecure.” “Villainess, my dear child, did you really have to act disgusted by his true form at a time like this? He’s really about to break.” It’s not like that, I’ve been wronged! I really just wanted him to loosen his grip a bit… 0

The next morning, Noah was nowhere to be found when I woke up. As I ate my breakfast sandwich, I took a deep breath and opened my phone after a 3-second mental preparation. To my surprise, all the hateful comments seemed to have evaporated overnight. The media outlets that had criticized me most harshly even had their official accounts suspended. One of the few media friends I was still in contact with sent me a photo of my parents visiting their company, with the caption: “It’s all taken care of.” I smiled. I knew my parents wouldn’t really abandon me. After all, they had always stepped in to smooth over all my big and small troubles before. Pop-up comment: “I can’t believe it, every time the second male lead quietly helps the villainess, he has to give all the credit to those good-for-nothing in-laws…” “Noah, the champion of the CEO world at washing underwear with a cold face. When his wife is in a good mood, he happily serves her. When his wife is in a bad mood, he coldly serves her.” “What a shame, the villainess doesn’t understand anything. She was so blatantly disgusted last night. Even though she avoided divorce for now, she probably can’t escape her fate of being forcibly imprisoned in the end.” Shocked, I shifted my gaze from the pop-up comments to my phone screen. I stared at the photo of my parents for a full ten minutes before finally noticing signs of Photoshop… I opened Snapchat and scrolled to the very bottom to find Noah: “Are you free today? I have something to discuss with you.” He replied instantly: “Wrong person.” “…” “No, it’s not~ Hubby~” This time he replied much slower: “I’m very sorry about last night, for letting you see those disgusting things. I’m very busy today. If you want a divorce, contact a lawyer first.” “No no no,” I quickly refuted, “It’s not about divorce.” Noah: “Alright, see you this afternoon.” Pop-up comments: “LOL, ‘divorce’ – no time. ‘Not divorce’ – see you this afternoon.” “That was close, the villainess narrowly avoided the dark room play again. Why do I feel like she’s becoming self-aware and trying to save herself?” “Why do I have a feeling something bad is about to happen at this plot point, but I can’t quite remember what…”

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The day I received my wife’s diagnosis, she suddenly installed a camera in our bedroom. That night, I saw her swear on the phone: “I won’t let him touch me again. I’ve sent you the account and password. You can log in and check anytime.” “I’ve decided to stay chaste for love.” Watching her flushed, impassioned face, I silently put the diagnosis report into the shredder. Stay chaste for love… Well, let’s make it a lifetime then. When I saw the letters “ALS” on Arianna’s diagnosis report, I nearly lost my balance. Three months ago, Arianna was injured in a hiking accident. During her hospital stay, I had the doctors do a comprehensive checkup, hoping for peace of mind. I never expected such a result. “ALS currently has no cure. We can only use medication to slow its progression, but the final outcome is irreversible,” the doctor said, looking at me sympathetically. Arianna was the quintessential career woman. Beautiful features, but not delicate. Her every move exuded a composed and elegant feminine charm. As a renowned divorce lawyer, she was brilliant and rational despite being a woman – a steel magnolia in her colleagues’ eyes. In private life, she was disciplined and routine-oriented, enjoying fitness and hiking, extremely particular about quality of life. I couldn’t bear to imagine someone like her becoming a helpless ALS patient in the future. Sitting on a street corner, watching the endless stream of people, I slowly stood up after a long while. I had made up my mind. As husband and wife, we should face everything together. No matter what she becomes in the future, I will face it with our son by her side. It was dark when I got home. Our son Ethan was quietly playing chess in his room. At seven years old, he had reached the level of chess master and had been interviewed on TV as a “child prodigy”. “Have you eaten?” I asked him gently, adjusting my mood. “Yes, the nanny made pork rib soup today,” he replied without looking up, focused on the chessboard. “Where’s Mom?” “She went for a run.” Ethan was quiet by nature, speaking concisely and clearly. Just like us. Two hours later, as I was lying in bed debating whether to tell Arianna about her condition, she came back. Wearing a hoodie and yoga pants, her whole figure looked graceful and spirited. I became anxious, “It’s only a few degrees outside, why are you dressed so lightly?” One of the precautions the doctor had mentioned today was that ALS patients produce less heat due to muscle atrophy and shouldn’t get cold, as it would accelerate the disease progression. Arianna’s face was expressionless as she said flatly: “This is how I always dress for running.” She opened the box in her hand and took out a camera, setting it up on the dresser opposite the bed. Pointing right at the bed. I was a bit confused. “Why are you suddenly installing a camera?” “There have been some burglaries in the neighborhood. Having surveillance is safer.” “Aren’t you worried about privacy?” I asked hesitantly, knowing Arianna was extremely concerned about personal privacy. She glanced at me and scoffed: “Privacy? Who’s interested in your privacy?” Various emotions swirled in my heart, but I didn’t want to argue with her. Before bed, she lay down with her back to me, far away, clearly too exhausted to talk. I sighed inwardly. She had just finished a high-profile celebrity divorce case. Let her relax for now that the pressure was off. In the middle of the night, I woke up suddenly, my mind unsettled. The bed beside me was empty. Arianna wasn’t there. I felt a surge of panic and got up to look for her. On the balcony, she was making a phone call in the night breeze, wearing only a thin nightgown. I hurried over with a coat. “I won’t let him touch me again…” Her soft voice reached me, and I paused. “I’ve sent you the password and account. You can log in and check anytime.” “I’ve decided to stay chaste for love.” Through the glass, I stared blankly at Arianna. This usually elegant and proud woman was now overflowing with intense emotion. Watching her flushed, impassioned face, I slowly processed the logic of her words. For a moment, I felt like I didn’t know her at all.

Arianna was quite uninhibited in the bedroom. Elegant and proper during the day, demanding at night. In recent years, as her stress increased dramatically, she had to be meticulous and airtight in her words and actions as a famous female divorce lawyer. As a result, she increasingly lived in a closed-off mode. Only in the intimate moments of the night, when she was panting with desire in my ear, could I find traces of that shy girl who used to blush at the sight of me. We were classmates in a graduate seminar. She pursued me. The proud and vivacious girl only had affectionate, shy glances for me. I fell for her quickly. Later, I stayed at the university as a psychology professor. She started as a salaried lawyer and worked her way up to partner, becoming a nationally renowned female divorce lawyer earning millions a year. We had many similarities in personality: Emotionally stable, rational and pragmatic, objective and calm, particular about quality of life, willing to work hard for our ideals. I had a stable and respectable job that allowed me to take care of the child and family. She was successful in her career, soaring in her professional field. Married for eight years, we respected each other and achieved together, living in a million-dollar apartment with an easy-to-raise “genius” son. You could say we were an enviable family. But half a year ago, she suddenly changed. She had a habit of night running. She used to leave at 8 pm and return at 9 pm, then shower and spend half an hour of family time. Like clockwork. But six months ago, she suddenly started leaving at 7 pm and not returning until 10 pm. When she came back, she seemed exhausted and went straight to bed after showering. Family time was naturally cancelled. I asked her why her night runs had become so long. She said flatly, “The case is at a dead end. Staying out longer helps clear my head.” Mental labor can sometimes be more tiring than physical labor. I understood. Later, she seemed to suddenly lose interest in intimacy. Not only did she no longer initiate, but she repeatedly rejected me, citing being “too tired”. I thought it was because of her stress and was very worried. That’s why after she was hospitalized for the hiking injury, I strongly urged her to take a break from work and recuperate for a while, and had the doctors do a full checkup. But now it seems the situation was not as I had imagined… I lay back in bed, staring at the ceiling in the dark with wide eyes. Her words earlier made her seem like a stranger, and the expression on her face felt even more unreal. So much so that after suffering two major blows today, intense curiosity overrode what should have been feelings of heartbreak and anger. I was really curious. What kind of man was on the other end of that call, to make Arianna, who had become utterly rational in recent years, behave like that? I’ve always been direct in my actions. The next night, I slipped sleeping pills into her milk.

As she slept heavily, I used her finger to unlock her phone. I found yesterday’s late night call number and looked at it for a while until something clicked. I had seen this number before. Three months ago, after Arianna was hospitalized for her hiking injury, I asked the police for the contact information of the first person who found her and called for help, wanting to express my gratitude. This was the number the police gave me. I have an excellent memory, especially for numbers. I couldn’t be wrong. I called the number in front of the police officer, and a man answered. His voice was steady, his manner gentle. He said there was no need to meet, and thanks were unnecessary. He said this was what any normal person would do. After hanging up, the police officer smiled and told me that while others might ask for a reward, he definitely wouldn’t. I asked why. The officer said he recognized the man during questioning – he had been in the news as the “Most Devoted Husband”. “He’s had a hard life too. His wife became completely paralyzed from a sudden illness at their wedding, leaving behind a 7-year-old son from her previous marriage. He didn’t abandon her, taking care of her day and night for thirteen years, while also raising that child alone. His wife passed away last year, and he finally got through it. Now he runs a small food stall selling lamb soup at the entrance of the suburban park.” “How could someone with that kind of moral character accept your reward money!” I nodded in admiration at the time, “My wife was lucky to have met him.” Now, in the dead of night, I held the phone for a long while, then opened the photo gallery. I don’t know if Arianna was confident in herself or trusting of me, but she had hardly hidden anything. What greeted my eyes was a screen full of photos of a man. The same man. A small stall lit by warm lamps under the starry night sky. The man had handsome features and a warm smile. He was either cutting ingredients, ladling soup, or chatting with customers. Every scene exuded warmth and an air of peaceful contentment. In the hundreds of photos, the man’s clothing changed from short sleeves to thick cotton jackets. The time span was half a year. The third day, I went to the suburban park and sat down at the small stall with a sign that read “Zack’s Lamb Soup”. I watched Zack from a short distance away. He was crouched in front of a flower bed, speaking softly to a stray kitten. Two women stood in front of his stall, joking: “Zack only has eyes for these cats and dogs. He’s not even trying to make money anymore.” Zack hurriedly stood up, explaining apologetically in a gentle voice: “I’m sorry, I just felt bad for them and got too absorbed. I didn’t see you there.” One of the women waved her hand, “You’re doing a good deed. These strays treat this place like home. They know you’re soft-hearted and all come to you for food. It’s a heartwarming scene – we enjoy watching it too.” After the two women left, I walked over. “One bowl of lamb soup, please.” Zack responded with an “Ah” and smiled as he ladled the soup for me. Across the rising steam, I quietly observed him. About 35 or 36, tall and well-built, with handsome features. Dressed simply but neatly, with gentle eyes and a friendly smile. His whole being exuded the warm and steady charm of a mature man. “It’s your first time here, friend. I’ll add some extra lamb lung for you to try.” I sat at the small table, slowly savoring the flavor. My mind kept wrestling with one question. Would someone like Zack, with his background and character… Would he do something like interfere in someone else’s marriage? Would he?

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My wife has always been cold and distant. In the ten years we’ve been married, she’s never said she loves me. Before I died, I discovered a love letter she had been preparing for years. But my name wasn’t on it. It turns out she was only indifferent towards me. After getting a second chance at life, the first thing I did was cancel our engagement and help her deliver the love letter. She turned red with anger and yelled at me for the first time: “Jack, who asked you to meddle in my business?” 0An hour before the elevator accident, I was cleaning the attic when I found a yellowed love letter. The handwriting was familiar, as was the signature. But the name at the beginning wasn’t mine. It was a love letter Fiona had written to another guy. In the moment the elevator fell, I was still thinking— I never got to know who the man she liked was, what he looked like, or if he was much better than me. When I woke up again, the sun outside was blinding. My head was fuzzy, and my friend William sighed beside me: “You’re finally awake. You scared me to death earlier. Luckily, someone reacted quickly and brought you to the infirmary.” The boy in front of me, wearing a high school uniform, made me feel disoriented for a moment. Seventeen-year-old William? The warm sensation on my hand told me this wasn’t a dream. I really had been given a second chance at life! Footsteps echoed from the doorway, and a figure emerged from the light, appearing before me. “Are you okay?” Fiona looked at me coolly, holding bread and milk in her hands. Familiar memories suddenly flooded back. That’s right, I had overslept that day and didn’t have time for breakfast. I fainted during PE class due to low blood sugar. Fiona handed me the food and watched me eat. That morning, Fiona’s class had a physics quiz, but she skipped it because of me. Later, she was scolded by her homeroom teacher. At seventeen, I was still lost in the fantasy that she cared about me, but with my 32-year-old mindset, I now knew clearly that Fiona was only taking care of me because she had promised my father. Fiona’s father and my dad were war buddies. After Fiona’s father died in the line of duty, her mother took the compensation money and ran off. My dad, seeing Fiona alone and helpless, took her in and raised her. Because she was dependent on us, she always listened to my dad and never dared to disobey. From that day on, Fiona became my little shadow. Everyone teased us behind our backs, saying I had an obedient childhood sweetheart. Later, when my dad noticed my feelings, he joked about Fiona becoming our daughter-in-law. She didn’t say a word. Back then, I thought she was just shy and reserved. Now that I think about it, I was such a fool. During class, I was distracted, constantly replaying the events of my past life. I didn’t want to ruin Fiona’s life again. Perhaps if we didn’t get married, she would be happier, and I wouldn’t die either. After the evening study session, the teacher kept us for an extra ten minutes. When class was finally over, students rushed out in a flurry. As I packed up my things, I saw Fiona waiting for me at the door, her head lowered as she looked at her error correction book. The light shone on her, making her appear even more aloof and cold. As we walked out of the school building, silence hung between us. Fiona was always like this – cold, indifferent, as if nothing interested her. I watched her back and suddenly stopped in my tracks. “Fiona, you go ahead. You don’t need to walk with me anymore, and you don’t have to wait for me in the future either.” “Why?” “No reason.” You’re free, Fiona. I headed towards the back street of the school, planning to buy some exercise books to improve my lackluster math skills. The person behind me caught up, asking coolly: “Jack, what’s wrong now?” “Is it because I arrived too late this morning? Or you didn’t like the milk I bought? The store only had that flavor left…” The moonlight shone on her, cold and clear. Her gaze seemed to say: What are you up to now? I tried to explain: “It’s really not that. The college entrance exam is coming up soon, everyone’s time is precious. You don’t need to waste yours on me. I need to study hard too.” Fiona stood there, stunned. It was probably the first time she had heard me say something like this. I used to love sticking close to Fiona. I didn’t get into North City University, but Fiona did. However, because of a single comment from my dad, she chose to stay in our hometown with me. At the time, I foolishly thought she liked me and just wouldn’t say it out loud. She must have regretted it, after all, that was her dream university. 0

Fiona didn’t follow me this time. I walked into the bookstore and picked out a few workbooks suitable for my level, along with a composition guide. When I went to pay, I realized the money in my pocket was gone. Puzzled, I retraced my steps through the store but couldn’t find it. I wasn’t sure if it had been stolen or if I had dropped it somewhere. I sighed, planning to come back and buy the books tomorrow. As I turned to leave, I bumped into someone. “Whoa!” the person exclaimed, dropping their comic book but managing to protect the bowl of barbecue in their hands. “I’m sorry.” “It’s you again?” The familiar voice and intonation caught me off guard. I looked closely and realized it was Sophie. My best friend from university – how did I run into her now? “What a coincidence, classmate. My friend and I took you to the infirmary when you fainted this morning. Are you feeling better?” “Oh… yeah, I’m fine. Thank you…” I was caught off guard, never realizing we had such an encounter in my previous life. Sophie picked up her comic book and, noticing my hesitation, took the books from my hand and paid for them along with hers. “I saw you wandering around the store earlier, like you were looking for something. What’s up, did you lose your money?” I nodded quickly, impressed by her observation skills. No wonder she would become a criminal investigator in the future. I told her I’d pay her back tomorrow, but Sophie waved it off. “Just treat me to a meal tomorrow, and we’ll call it even.” As we walked out onto the back street, the night had grown quiet with only a few students passing by. Noticing a group of delinquents smoking together not far ahead, I turned to Sophie and offered to walk her home. I went to the garage and retrieved a black motorcycle. After dropping her off at her building, the roar of the motorcycle finally died down. She was worried about disturbing the neighbors and asked me to keep it down when leaving. I smirked, “Can’t keep it down, I’m afraid. My baby’s just that powerful.” “…” That came out sounding weird. When I got home, I ran into Fiona at the entrance of our apartment complex. Strange, didn’t I tell her to go back first? How come she’s even slower than me? Fiona and I went up together, an inexplicable pressure building in the silence. As the elevator doors closed, she suddenly spoke: “Is that girl the reason you’re trying so hard?” “…No, we just happened to meet.” “What a coincidence.” Her tone was flat, as if she didn’t care much, so I didn’t bother explaining further. Back home, Fiona would usually finish her homework and then take a shower. While she was in the bathroom, I snuck into her room and found the love letter. She always hid things in the same place – under a stack of books. Easy to find. I opened the letter, pondering who this “Lucas” could be. Maybe it was someone from her class? Given how cold she always is, I doubt she’d ever catch up to anyone else. Well, why don’t I give her a hand? 0

The next day, I went to school with dark circles under my eyes. After investigating all night, I discovered there were no boys named Lucas in Fiona’s class, only two girls with that surname. Math class went by in a blur again. Even with a second chance at life, the problems I couldn’t solve before were still beyond me. It seems the gap between Fiona and me was destined to remain unbridgeable. At lunch, I was about to go meet Sophie when I found Fiona waiting for me at the classroom door, holding a bag of my favorite roast chicken. “Didn’t I tell you not to wait for me anymore? You should do whatever you want.” “Oh.” She handed me the bag. “Thanks, but you don’t need to buy this for me in the future.” “…” Fiona looked at me, puzzled, and sighed slightly: “Jack, what have I done to upset you? You’ve been avoiding me lately.” “It’s not your problem, it’s mine. I’ve just realized some things.” I walked towards the cafeteria, then remembered something and turned back to her seriously: “By the way, when my dad said you should be my wife, he was just joking. You don’t have to take it seriously or listen to him too much.” “Fiona, good luck with your college entrance exam. Go to your dream university.” “…” Fiona frowned, as if not understanding why I was saying all this. I arrived at the cafeteria where Sophie had already found a table and was waiting for me. “What’s this?” Sophie glanced at the bag in my hand. “Roast chicken. Here, you can have it. Thanks for helping me yesterday.” “Hey, no need to be so formal.” Sophie waved it off but couldn’t resist the aroma of the chicken and ended up eating a drumstick. One thing led to another. She was eating with gusto, her mouth covered in oil. I was about to remind her when a cold voice interrupted. “So this is why you had to get rid of me. You two are dating?” Sophie nearly choked in surprise. I turned around to meet Fiona’s cold gaze, feeling as if I’d been caught cheating. No, no, we’re not a couple anymore. “It’s not like that. We just met, we’re just classmates…” I was telling the truth, but Fiona impatiently cut me off: “You don’t need to explain to me. “I won’t tell Uncle about this. There’s no need to avoid me in the future.” She said coldly, turning away with a hint of anger. Sophie came back and quietly asked me who that was. Seeing her gossipy look, she probably thought Fiona and I were a couple. I briefly explained our situation, and Sophie nodded in understanding. “Oh, childhood sweethearts, huh? She seems to care about you a lot.” “…It’s not like that.” Fiona couldn’t wait to get rid of me.

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We got married less than two weeks after meeting through a blind date. For the first three months after the wedding, we slept in separate rooms. Then one night, he knocked on my door. His voice was husky: “It’s time we consummate this marriage.” Lucas and I had just gotten our marriage license and were driving home. Halfway there, the car suddenly stopped. Lucas unbuckled his seatbelt and said, “Wait here, I’m going to buy something.” “Buy what? Are you feeling sick?” “No, just some essentials.” Left alone in the car, I relaxed my tense nerves. It felt surreal – we were really married now. Lucas and I had met through a blind date set up by my aunt. She had enthusiastically told me: “He’s handsome, from a good family. His parents are both high-ranking government officials.” “He also works for the government, as a detective…” If I didn’t agree, I knew my other aunts would all come knocking with more suggestions. So I reluctantly nodded. When we met, he was just as my aunt described – handsome, nearly 6’2″ tall, with piercing eyes like a hawk. But when he furrowed his brow, he looked fierce and serious. I didn’t dare look up at him. The date didn’t last long, with barely any conversation before we parted ways. I thought that was the end of it, but three days later my aunt called to say he wanted to meet again. I frowned, not really wanting to go. But thinking of Lucas’s intimidating face, I was afraid to refuse in case he showed up at my door. I decided to meet once more to clearly explain my feelings. He suggested meeting at the movie theater. When I arrived, Lucas was already there. He wore a khaki trench coat over a white shirt, with long straight legs ending in black leather shoes. He had a bit of an English gentleman vibe. He seemed less fierce than last time. While waiting in line for tickets, he leaned down close to me. I was suddenly enveloped by the faint scent of his body wash. “Do you want popcorn and soda?” I shook my head, just wanting to get the movie over with. During the film, Lucas was very attentive. He didn’t say anything unnecessary or make any suspicious moves. He was quite well-behaved. As the movie neared its end, I breathed a sigh of relief. When we came out, it had started pouring rain outside with thunder and lightning. The wind carried moisture in the air. Lucas’s car was parked across the street, still some distance away. I hadn’t expected it to rain tonight, so I was going to get wet either way. I decided to just put my bag over my head and make a run for it. Suddenly my wrist was grabbed firmly, almost painfully tight. Lucas quickly loosened his grip when he realized. “Sorry.” He took off his coat: “Use this over your head.” “Let’s go together.” Lucas was tall, so his coat was big enough to cover us both. “Move in closer.” We were very close, our skin occasionally brushing. When my arm accidentally touched his hot chest I quickly pulled it back. Half of Lucas’s body got soaked. His wet hair clung to his forehead, looking a bit messy. “Are you cold?” I shook my head. “You should dry off quickly. Be careful not to catch a cold tomorrow.” The car arrived home as the rain gradually stopped. I unbuckled my seatbelt and forced a faint smile: “Thanks for today. Go take a hot shower when you get home to ward off the chill.” I got out of the car, and the door on the other side opened too. “Did you need something else?” “I’m free this weekend. Want to grab dinner together?” I was about to refuse, but seeing Lucas’s sharp eyes, I swallowed my words. I nodded in agreement. Before our weekend dinner plans, Lucas and I unexpectedly met again due to an incident where a student’s parent violently attacked a teacher. It happened suddenly – I was walking and replying to a message when an angry-looking parent rushed out wielding a stick. “Are you Ms. Wilson?” I nodded, not fully processing what was happening. The stick came down hard on my shoulder. “My child is in the hospital with a concussion because of you…” I let out a muffled cry and collapsed. I tried to speak but my voice was stuck in my throat. I was confused – we always treated those kids like precious treasures, never hitting or scolding them. How could I have beaten a student? The parent was in a rage, about to bring the stick down on my stomach when Lucas appeared and forcefully kicked him away. Lucas was in his police uniform, his face dark with anger. The parent was taken to the police station while Lucas brought me to the hospital. My right shoulder was injured, with bruising and swelling over a large area. “It’s not too serious. I’ll apply some medicine and give you some ointment to use at home daily.” Lucas frowned, his expression grim. The nurse who had been sneaking glances at Lucas earlier now didn’t dare make a sound, her hands shaking as she applied the medicine. “Gentle–” The nurse’s hands were trembling like a sieve. I looked up. Lucas’s expression wasn’t much better, looking quite fierce. I felt helpless. “Why don’t you wait outside?” He gave me a cool look, nodded, and turned to leave, closing the door behind him. The school principal called to express concern. “Principal, this counts as a work injury right? I can’t even lift my arm to write now.” “Take a few days off to rest at home. Come back when you’re healed…” While I felt wronged by the whole incident, hearing I could take a few days off work lifted my mood considerably. In the hallway, Lucas stood ramrod straight with his arms crossed over his chest, thin lips pressed tightly together. He drew many glances, but his intimidating aura kept people from approaching. “Thank you for today. How did you show up so quickly?” “I happened to be in the area on business.” That night as I was about to sleep, my phone screen lit up. Lucas had sent a message: “The investigation results are in. The injured child just started middle school and was struggling academically. His family is also poor. A teacher deliberately targeted him, punishing him harshly in class for not completing homework. After school, the teacher called him to the office and warned him not to tell anyone. When the parent got home from work, he found the child unconscious and took him to the hospital where they discovered a concussion and other injuries. When questioned about who did it, the student made up a teacher surnamed Wilson…” I read it, feeling conflicted. Teachers’ ethics really needed improvement. I glanced at the time and sent a message back: “You’re still not off work?” “I am. About to shower.” “…” “Rest well. Good night.” “Good night.” As I got to know Lucas better, I found him to be very polite and gentlemanly in his speech and manners, aside from his intimidating demeanor. I thought marriage to someone like him would probably be quite nice. So when Lucas called two weeks later to ask if I wanted to get married, I didn’t hesitate long before agreeing. Lucas tossed a large cardboard box labeled “health products” into the backseat. I didn’t think much of it. There was also a bag of fresh fruit on top which he handed to me. I opened it to find many plump, glistening lychees. I peeled one and popped it in my mouth. As I bit down, the sweet juices burst forth, filling my mouth with a delicious aroma. My mood instantly lightened. Once I started eating them I couldn’t stop, devouring over a dozen in one go. I sighed contentedly at how sweet the lychees were, my fondness for Lucas growing even more. Our new home was a large apartment, simply but elegantly furnished with high-quality pieces. Lucas carried a box into the bedroom. The bedroom door was slightly ajar, and I could faintly make out the deep red bedspread contrasting starkly against the white walls. My hazy state of mind suddenly cleared as I realized – tonight would be our wedding night. The thought made my heart race. I felt awkward and flushed bright red. Before this, my only “relationships” had been with fictional characters. I’d never even held hands with a guy in real life. Lucas emerged from the bedroom and glanced at me, furrowing his brow. “Not feeling well?” I shook my head, saying sheepishly, “Just a bit hot.” I opened the fridge and asked, “What do you want for lunch?” He unbuttoned his shirt and rolled up the sleeves, revealing muscular forearms. He looked slightly surprised. “You can cook?” When we’d visited Lucas’s family before, they had a private chef who made amazing Suzhou cuisine. He nodded and smiled. “I learned to cook for myself when studying abroad. Eating out was too expensive.” Lucas cooked in the kitchen while I busied myself organizing clothes in the bedroom. I opened the closet to find dresses hanging neatly, with a row of new lingerie sets below. The tags were still on – clearly pre-prepared. As I bent to take clothes from my suitcase, I noticed the box he’d brought back from the pharmacy earlier was open. The tape had been removed. I peeked inside to find it full of contraceptives in various flavors. My face instantly flushed red. There was also an unopened box on the nightstand, seemingly prepared specially for tonight. It was hot, and I’d started sweating just from moving around a bit. My hair felt sticky and I didn’t want Lucas to see me looking so disheveled. I grabbed some clothes and quickly ducked into the bathroom to shower. When I came out feeling fresh, Lucas was just coming out of the kitchen, a delicious aroma wafting into the living room. His eyes lingered on me for a moment before quickly looking away. “You showered?” “Yeah, it was too hot earlier and I got all sweaty.” The table was set with braised fish in vinegar sauce, stewed pork ribs with yam, tofu and vegetable soup, and a small dish of pickled vegetables. My mouth watered at the sight. I couldn’t help but give Lucas a thumbs up. “Lucas, you’re amazing! This is Michelin star level!” “So good!” I’d planned to act ladylike in front of him, but the food was just too delicious. I couldn’t resist having an extra bowl of rice.

Lucas got an urgent work call in the afternoon and had to leave in a rush. I breathed a sigh of relief, feeling more at ease by myself. I napped until late afternoon and saw a message from him: “Sorry, I won’t be back for dinner tonight.” I went down to the convenience store to buy some snacks, then watched a movie and read for a while. Looking up at the clock, I saw it was nearly 10pm. I frowned and sent him a message, but got no reply. He must be too busy. I spent my wedding night alone. Lucas called to tell me he’d be away for the whole week – there were new developments in the case and he had to drive to another city overnight. I said I understood. Before we married, my parents had warned me about the demands of Lucas’s job and told me to be understanding and accommodating. For the next few days I ate alone, slept alone, played on my phone alone. I almost forgot I was a married woman. One afternoon as I was returning home from work with a bag of oranges, I ran into a neighbor I’d met recently. He was a university professor with a refined air and gentle smile – the type I used to like. “Off work, Ms. Wilson?” I nodded. “Which middle school do you teach at?” I smiled and named my school. “What a coincidence, my nephew goes there. It’s a good school…” We chatted casually as we walked. Just as I was about to close my door, I realized I’d forgotten to buy cold medicine. I’d left the window open last night and woke up with a stuffy nose after kicking off the covers in my sleep. Ryan mentioned he had some cold medicine and kindly brought over two boxes. I felt bad accepting them and gave him a few oranges from my bag. After showering, I went to the living room to get some water and take the medicine. Suddenly I heard the door handle turn. My heart clenched in fear – a woman living alone, hearing someone at the door… The door opened. It was Lucas. He stood in the entryway changing his shoes, which were muddy. His clothes were wrinkled and he looked exhausted. My racing heart calmed. I asked with concern, “Have you eaten?” His voice was hoarse: “I grabbed something on the way.” Lucas stared at me intently. I looked down and realized why. Home alone, I’d thrown on a thin silk nightgown. The loose fabric clung to my curves, threatening to slip off my shoulders. Most importantly, I wasn’t wearing anything underneath. I took a deep breath and calmly went to the bedroom. I closed the door and quickly changed into long sleeves and pants. Less comfortable, but I felt safer. When I came out, he was drinking water. Our eyes met and his gaze seemed meaningful. I nervously looked down and sat on the couch hugging a pillow. “I’m going to shower,” he said, a hint of amusement in his voice. Lost in thought, I heard his voice from above me. I mumbled a vague “Mm-hmm.” The shower ran for 8 minutes before the bathroom door opened. Lucas came out wearing a loose white t-shirt and black shorts. His tall, lean body was on display – muscular arms and legs clearly visible. He went to the fridge for water, tilting his head back as he drank. I watched his Adam’s apple bob. “Not going to bed?” His hair was still damp, clinging to his forehead. His dark eyes seemed misty as he stared at me. I felt a bit uncomfortable under his gaze, my face growing warm. “It’s too early, I want to watch TV for a bit.” Lucas glanced at me, then calmly walked to the entryway and flipped a switch. The lights went out, plunging the living room into darkness. The only illumination came from the TV. The couch dipped as he sat next to me, our legs touching. I was suddenly enveloped by the heady scent of his masculine pheromones. My whole body tensed, palms sweating nervously. I tried to subtly scoot away. He suddenly turned and pulled me into his arms, strong hands gripping my shoulders tightly. I stiffly turned my neck, saying softly, “Maybe we should go rest in the bedroom for a bit.” When he’d first come home, I’d noticed dark circles under his eyes and stubble on his chin. He looked exhausted. Lucas slowly shook his head. “I’ll watch TV with you for a while first.” The living room fell silent again. I’d put on a disaster movie. At first I struggled to focus, but soon got drawn in. As the credits rolled, I heard steady breathing beside me. I gently nudged him. “Lucas–” Before I could finish, he jerked awake and grabbed my arm. In the darkness, his eyes were sharp and cold, brows furrowed fiercely. “Ow–” Lucas paused, then immediately let go. I stared at him wide-eyed, shrinking back. Realizing he’d overreacted, Lucas quickly apologized: “Sorry, it was a reflex.” In his line of work, even the slightest disturbance put him on high alert. Though I understood, I still felt unsettled. If he’d gripped any harder, I wouldn’t be able to hold a piece of chalk tomorrow. Still shaken, I put a hand to my chest. I managed a dry “It’s fine, just be more careful next time.” Seeing his distress, I felt a pang of sympathy. I couldn’t help adding: “Really, don’t worry about it. Go get some sleep.” As I spoke, I yawned and headed to my room. I glanced back to see Lucas hadn’t followed. I lay down and pulled up the covers. The bedroom door opened and I tensed slightly. Lucas came in with a glass of warm milk. “Mom said you need this to sleep well.” I quietly thanked him as I took the glass. Under Lucas’s watchful gaze, I silently drank the entire glass of milk. “I’m turning off the lights.” “Okay.” He reached for the switch, then lay down. I scooted to the very edge of the bed, almost falling off. Moonlight filtered softly through the thin curtains into the bedroom. The room was filled only with the sound of steady breathing. Lucas rolled over– I held my breath. “Does your hand still hurt?” I shook my head, my voice stiff: “It’s…fine now.” After a while, Lucas spoke again, his voice low and husky: “Emma–” “Hmm?” “Move over a bit, you’re about to fall off.” “Oh.” I inched over bit by bit. When the thin silk of my nightgown brushed against his hot skin, my back stiffened and I broke out in a sweat. The room’s intimate atmosphere intensified. I didn’t dare move my legs. Just as I was about to roll over to put some distance between us, Lucas reached out and pulled me into his arms, pressing our bodies tightly together. My face burned hot. He wore a t-shirt, but I could feel the heat radiating from his body. Sweat started to bead on my forehead. This position was uncomfortable. I turned onto my side. Our eyes met– His pitch-black eyes looked calm, but I could feel the heat in his gaze. Feeling like things were about to progress if I didn’t say something, I gently pushed against him and tentatively said: “Um, Lucas, can we sleep in separate rooms? I toss and turn a lot and get up at night. I might disturb your sleep.” There was a long silence beside me. Finally, his calm voice said: “Alright, I’ll sleep in the guest room.” I was taken aback that he agreed so quickly. “Lucas, you’re not upset are you?” He chuckled and shook his head. I breathed a sigh of relief. “That’s good.” Lucas’s voice softened: “Emma, I know we rushed into marriage. You still need time to adjust. I respect your choice, but I hope you won’t make me wait too long.” He got up and took fresh bedding from the closet to the guest room. That night I dreamed Lucas and I were rolling from one end of the bed to the other. It felt so real that my face was still flushed when I woke up. I scratched my head, wondering why I’d had such a dream.

Lucas knocked on the door: “Emma, breakfast is ready.” I usually didn’t have much appetite in summer mornings. But seeing the sesame noodles, scallion pancakes, and mung bean porridge on the table made my mouth water. “Lucas, what time did you get up to make all this?” “6am.” I had been sound asleep at that hour. My face reddened slightly in embarrassment. I picked up a spoon, about to add sugar to my porridge. He brought over a glass of water first: “Don’t eat yet, drink some warm water first. It’s good for you.” I looked up at him. Only then did I notice his hair was damp and his face slightly flushed. He wore athletic shorts and a t-shirt, the front soaked with sweat. I could faintly make out the lines of his body under the shirt – all muscle, but lean rather than bulky. “Did you go for a run earlier?” He nodded. “Mm. You eat first, I need a quick shower.” Without the comparison, I wouldn’t have realized how lazy I was. I decided I’d cook dinner tonight. I couldn’t let him do everything. … After work I stopped by the supermarket. I bought some groceries, having asked Lucas’s mom what dishes he liked. Passing the frozen section, I saw ice cream on sale. I tossed six pints into my cart. By the time I got home it was dark outside, and I was alone in the house. I finished cooking, but Lucas still wasn’t back. I glanced at the clock – he should be off work by now. Just as I was about to call him, my phone rang. “Emma, I have to work late tonight. I might get back pretty late.” “Okay, have you eaten?” “I’m busy right now, I’ll grab something from the cafeteria later.” “Get some rest early, don’t wait up for me. Remember to lock the door.” “Captain Lu…” I heard someone calling him on the other end. We only chatted briefly before he hung up. I looked at the steaming beef and lotus root rib soup on the table. I went to the kitchen and packed some food in a thermos… I took a taxi to the police station. When the guard asked who I was, I said I was Lucas’s wife. It felt a bit awkward saying those words – I felt embarrassed. The guard’s eyes lit up when he heard that. He enthusiastically led me inside. When I saw Lucas, he was poring over case files with a cigarette in his mouth, brows furrowed. I squinted slightly – this was the first time I’d seen Lucas smoke. I’d never smelled smoke on him before, so I assumed he didn’t. Lucas looked up and saw me, seeming surprised. He quickly took a final drag of his cigarette and stubbed it out in the ashtray. He jogged over, took off his jacket and draped it over my shoulders. His gaze was deep, hiding a smile. Someone nearby started teasing: “Captain, who’s this?” The guard laughed and said, “It’s the Captain’s wife.” “Captain got married? When are you treating us to the wedding banquet?” “Quick, look – the Captain’s wife brought him dinner!” It was my first time at the police station and I felt nervous. A group of young, energetic officers in training called out greetings, addressing me as “sister-in-law”. It was quite lively. My face turned bright red from the attention. Lucas smiled faintly and said, “Thanks Uncle Li. We just got our marriage license recently, haven’t had the wedding yet. I’ll invite you all when we do.” The guard smiled and left, telling us to spend some time together. Lucas’s eyes crinkled with amusement. “There’s watermelon inside. I picked it up from a farm earlier – it’s very sweet.” I held up the thermos and smiled. “I made a couple dishes and brought them over.” We went inside and Lucas closed the door. He took out a watermelon, wiped it clean, and quickly cut it in half. He stuck a spoon in one half. His dark eyes stared at me intently. Feeling shy under his gaze, I tried to make conversation: “This watermelon is too big, I can’t finish it all.” “If you can’t finish, leave it here. I’ll eat it later.” My face reddened slightly. Growing up, only my dad would eat my leftovers. Now there was a second man willing to do so – it felt strange. “Hurry and eat your dinner. The food won’t taste as good if it gets cold.” “Have you eaten?” I shook my head. I’d been so eager to bring the food over that I hadn’t eaten yet. “I’ll eat when I get home.” Knowing he had a big appetite from all his training, I’d packed extra food. He took out a pair of disposable chopsticks from a drawer and handed them to me. “Let’s eat together.” Lucas put a slice of beef in my bowl. “Eat more, your waist is too thin.” His blunt words startled me and I choked. Lucas’s mom had said he liked spicy food, so I’d added extra Sichuan peppercorns and chili when cooking. Now as I choked, I felt awful. My face turned red as I coughed, breaking out in a sweat. Lucas hurriedly stood up and patted my back to help me breathe. “Have some water.” I gulped down water from the cup he handed me, finally managing to catch my breath. I looked up at Lucas. His brows were deeply furrowed, expression serious. He looked a hundred times fiercer than usual. “You can’t handle spicy food. Don’t use so much chili when cooking.” I felt wronged. “I only made it spicy because you like it.” “And I only choked because you said something shocking.” He fell silent and walked out the door. Did we just have our first fight? I watched his figure disappear into the night through the window, feeling an inexplicable sense of loss. Eight minutes later, Lucas returned carrying a bag filled with various candies. Acting as if nothing had happened, he unwrapped a lemon flavored candy. “Open your mouth.” The sweet and sour candy melted on my tongue, making the spiciness fade. Lucas asked gently, “How is it? Feeling better?” I nodded. “You shouldn’t eat this dinner. I’ll make you something when we get home.” I felt bad for misjudging him earlier. “It’s okay, the lotus root soup isn’t spicy. I can eat it with rice.” “Alright, I’ll eat the spicy beef. You drink all the soup.” “Wait for me to finish up work and we’ll go home together.” Lucas ate quickly, polishing off his meal in 5 minutes. He sat down at the computer, looking focused. I don’t like having people around when I’m working, so while Lucas reviewed case files, I got up to take a walk outside. I ran into one of his coworkers – tall, handsome, and very friendly. “Hey sis, let’s exchange contact info. I’ll add you to our family group chat.” “Our Captain never had a girlfriend before. The bureau chief tried to set him up once, but the girl thought he was too intimidating and busy…” James was quite funny, able to make me laugh with just a few words. “Emma, time to go.” Lucas stood behind me, tall and straight-backed, holding his briefcase and the thermos. “Bye sis!” I smiled and waved goodbye to James.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “297244”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #现实主义Realistic #浪漫Romance

I worked part-time during college to make ends meet. I found a job, but rumors spread around campus that I was working in an unsavory industry. Years later, as if fulfilling their assumptions, I became a VIP room manager at a nightclub. At a class reunion, my former classmates mocked me with cold remarks. But the infamous lawyer Mr. Yates, known for his stern demeanor, unexpectedly knelt before me in his crisp suit— 0 “Ava, please, save me a room tonight…” I started working at Horizon, the city’s most popular nightclub, after graduating college. My job was VIP room sales, mainly booking private rooms and selling drinks. I was approaching 30 and had worked my way up to sales manager. Our team, mostly young women, consistently performed well. Lisa’s team also did well, though they occasionally had off nights. On those evenings, she would start bombarding me with messages on Snapchat as early as 5 PM, frantically saying: “Ava, how many rooms has your team booked? We only have three so far. If we’re really struggling by tonight, can you lend us some of your bookings? Next time there are difficult clients, I’ll have Angela and the girls help out with drinks.” Lisa was nine years my senior, a veritable cougar with permed reddish-brown hair. We got along well, mainly because of her straightforward personality. And I was even more direct than her. Horizon was the largest and liveliest nightclub in the city. There wasn’t much scheming between the sales teams, since besides Lisa and me, the only other sales manager we regularly dealt with was a man. We called him Chris. Chris was also easy to talk to and treated us all like sisters. At 7 PM, Horizon opened for business. The girls arrived one by one through the back entrance, gathering in the dressing room. Some still had remnants of last night’s makeup, mascara smudged around their eyes. Others arrived bare-faced in tank tops, carefully applying skincare in front of the mirror. Those who weren’t skilled at makeup could pay $30 for the part-time makeup artists to do a pretty look. The makeup artists brought basic foundation, but the girls usually requested to use their own MAC or Armani products. Of course, some didn’t bother, like the new college student on my team. She was introduced by her classmate Tina to work part-time. The girls here all used stage names. Tina’s real name was Chloe, a sophomore in college. Her friend had already picked out a name before coming – Mandy. Mandy looked a bit plain, with small eyes and a hesitant demeanor. Initially I didn’t want to take her on, but Tina clung to my arm and pleaded: “Come on Ava, let her stay. Her dad has cancer and is in the hospital. They’ve used up all their savings and are in debt. They can’t even afford her living expenses. She really needs the money.” I sighed reluctantly, “Not everyone is cut out for this line of work. Looks are secondary – with makeup, no one looks too bad. But in other aspects, do you really think she can handle those clients?” I’ve always been good at reading people. This girl was too naive – unlike Tina, who was lively and socially savvy. Tina had been working part-time here for almost a year. She was clever and could hold her liquor well. I once asked her why a nice girl like her would work in a place like this. She blinked innocently and said matter-of-factly: “I don’t have enough money. My mom only gives me $100 a month. One set of skincare products alone costs $180. Plus all the cute bags and shoes – who doesn’t like shopping for designer brands at the mall?” I’ve seen all kinds of reasons girls work in nightclubs, each more outlandish than the last. In Lisa’s group, there was a girl called Hannah who came to work here because of her boyfriend. The guy was constantly unemployed, lying around at home playing video games all day. So she came to work at the nightclub to support them both. Girls like that were rare. It usually took hitting rock bottom before they’d wake up. More common were girls like Mandy, who came to work here because they desperately needed money. And they needed a lot of money. Like my best friend at Horizon, Angela. She was already working here when I first started. Originally it was because she fell victim to an online shopping scam and maxed out her credit cards. She managed to pay off her debts and left for a year. But when I became a sales manager in charge of a team, she came back. This time it was because she got caught up in an online romance scam. She was brainwashed and took out all kinds of loans. Now she owed over $100,000. Then there was Yolanda, a 26-year-old single mom. She divorced due to domestic violence and was raising two kids on her own. Everyone had their reasons for working in nightclubs, but not everyone was suited for it. But Tina kept insisting, even promising: “No one is born cut out for this industry. Don’t worry Ava, Mandy is very adaptable. I can help her. How about this – let her try for a few days with me guiding her. If you’re still not satisfied then, you can let her go.” Because of that, Mandy really did end up staying. She didn’t have great features, so she always carefully had her makeup done by the makeup artists. I have to say, with makeup she looked quite innocent and sweet, a bit like that Korean actress with small eyes, Jung Da-bin. I knew that agreeing to keep her was partly because of what Tina said – “No one is born cut out for this industry.” Every evening around 6-7 PM, the two large dressing rooms and changing rooms would be bustling with noise and activity. In the end, everyone would emerge dolled up and glamorous. When changing, if they couldn’t reach the clasps on their bras, they’d even call Chris over to help. After it all quieted down, I would usually light a cigarette in the dressing room, exhaling smoke as I stared at my solemn reflection in the mirror, feeling strange and distant. I once told Tina: “When I was in college, my monthly living expenses were only $50. You’re still young, so those designer skincare products and bags aren’t necessities. You’ll have chances to buy them in the future.” Tina dismissed this, simply telling me: “Times are different now, Ava.” Times may be different, but some truths remain the same. As the famous quote from Zweig’s “Marie Antoinette” goes – “All the gifts bestowed by fate have their price tag already marked.” Some people are born with everything, silver spoons in their mouths. Others are born with nothing, in abject poverty. We all enter this world differently. Life has no rehearsals or scripts. Once a path is walked, it cannot be retraced. That’s why we should cherish the good cards we’re dealt. And when dealt a bad hand, we must study it carefully and play to win big. It would be a shame to only play a bit part on the stage of your own life. As I stared into the mirror lost in thought, cigarette smoke swirling, I couldn’t help but wonder what my era was like. At 20, I seemed to be like Mandy – introverted and reserved, walking with my head down in silence. The difference was, I had no friends at school back then. And because of a boy’s impulsive confession, I became a public enemy, subjected to insults and abuse. Then I would naturally think of Zack, that little troublemaker who shone a light into my long, dark life. In my memories, he smiled at me backlit, forever young. Those thick, unruly eyebrows. The hint of mischief in his eyes. Even after all these years, the memory remained vivid and alive. Those recollections would make me irritably stub out my cigarette. I’d spend a few minutes composing myself, then walk out of the dressing room as if nothing had happened. I’d hold a quick meeting with my team in the main hall. Then everyone would get to work, welcoming clients amidst the lavish and bustling atmosphere of the nightclub. The same routine every night – singing karaoke, playing dice games, drinking, whispering in ears…VIP packages with expensive liquor on the table. As long as the clients’ dirty jokes and wandering hands didn’t go too far, the girls could flirtatiously fend them off. Nightclubs nowadays are different from before. I still remember 10 years ago when Frank partnered with someone to open a karaoke club. Back then it was truly chaotic, breeding grounds for criminal activity. The clubs had nude shows, erotic dances, almost becoming a seedy industry chain. There were other unsavory dealings too. Frank felt helpless at the time – he wanted to establish roots in the city, but there were people he had to rely on. Many things he didn’t want to do, he had no power to refuse. Fortunately, he’s made it big now and gone legitimate. In both legal and illegal circles of the city, mentioning his name now inspires a degree of fear. Frank owns many businesses – restaurants, clubs, tech companies…Perhaps knowing how hard it was to go clean, he’s completely distanced himself from any illegal activities. Take Horizon for example. Despite being a nightclub, it was even nominated as one of the “Top 10 Civilized Establishments” in the city’s year-end evaluations. I’ve long known that Frank is a ruthless man. Horizon operates until 2-3 AM. By closing time, everyone reeks of alcohol. Some of the more energetic girls will invite others out for late night snacks after work. I rarely join their after-work activities. When faced with enthusiastic invitations, I just smile and say: “You girls go ahead. I’m getting old and can’t keep up with you young ladies. I need to rest or I’ll get wrinkles.” I’ve always had trouble sleeping, so I usually go straight home. There are always lots of taxis waiting outside Horizon at that hour. Lately when leaving, I’ve made a habit of glancing towards the east end of the street. Sure enough, for a week now, that black Mercedes has been waiting there at the same time. The person inside seemed to notice me. A tall, straight figure got out of the car. From a distance, the man stood with his hand on the car door, gazing over steadily. I ignored him and got directly into a taxi, giving my address. After arriving at my apartment complex and paying the fare, I unsurprisingly saw that Mercedes had followed me here. For most people, this might seem scary. But not this man. His name was Ethan Yates, a lawyer. More specifically, he was a well-known lawyer in the city. Ethan came from a good family and graduated from law school at Kingsley University. His father was a judge and his mother worked for the prosecutor’s office. He was famous even in school. While getting his master’s degree, he worked with a law firm in Southport on a high-profile forensic evidence case, with the university’s recommendation. Two years ago, he co-founded Kingsley Law Firm with some college classmates. He specialized in criminal defense and handling complex legal matters. I knew a lot about him, not just because I also went to Kingsley, but because I had just dumped him a week ago. “Dumped” may not be the right word, since we were never really in a proper relationship to begin with. Two months ago, their law firm helped the CEO of Qishi Group win an economic dispute case. The CEO booked a room at Horizon and insisted on inviting the lawyers to celebrate. The room was booked through Angela, so the commission went to our team. The CEO generously ordered the Hennessy package, so I went to offer some toasts. That’s how I met Ethan. The large private room was packed, with the CEO and his group all seated. Amidst the clinking glasses and dazzling lights, the lively atmosphere was in full swing. I exchanged some pleasantries with the CEO, who then introduced me to Ethan. “Ava, I hear from Angela that you also graduated from Kingsley? Come, let me introduce you to Mr. Yates – a fellow alumna, and quite a beauty too.” The room was crowded and I hadn’t noticed him at first. But when our eyes met, the air seemed to freeze for a moment. There’s always a certain chemistry between people. Ethan was young and handsome, in a way befitting an elite lawyer’s proper image. Sleek, impeccable hair. A smooth forehead and high nose bridge. Thin lips pressed together. Handsome, faultless features. He wore gold-rimmed glasses, looking scholarly and refined, while also cleverly concealing the sharp glint in his deep-set eyes. One glance was enough for me to know something should happen between us. Rumor had it that Ethan never drank and had a cold personality. Whether for work or in private, he was said to rarely smile. That night, true to the rumors, he had been dragged there by another partner at the firm. He didn’t drink a drop of alcohol the whole time, and no women were seated next to him. It was clear he disliked such occasions. Though his face remained impassive, his occasionally furrowed brow betrayed his irritation. Fortunately, I came to his rescue. I sat down next to him, meeting his inquiring gaze. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Yates.” “You also graduated from Kingsley?” Ethan’s voice was cool and low. He turned slightly to look at me, light reflecting off his glasses and illuminating his dark pupils with a deep, mysterious glow. When a man takes initiative to ask questions about a woman, it means he doesn’t dislike her. I’ve always known I’m good-looking. After years in the nightlife industry, the smile on my face was polite and gentle. If I wanted, that gentleness could take on a flirtatious edge. I had graduated from Kingsley a year ahead of him, so I suppose I was his senior. Ethan must have been very puzzled as to why a Kingsley graduate would be working at a nightclub. I didn’t need to explain this to him. If he was interested in me, he’d find out everything with a bit of digging later. That night at closing time, I took the initiative to ask if he could give me a ride home. He sat in the car looking at me, raising an eyebrow. His gaze was deep and unreadable. In the end, he silently allowed me to open the passenger door. When we arrived at my apartment, as I was getting out, I asked with a smile: “Want to come up for coffee?” It was a clear invitation. We were both adults, no need to beat around the bush. I looked at him openly, my expression calm. As if it didn’t matter whether he refused or not. He pressed his lips together, eyeing me. Finally he said: “Do you live alone?” “Of course.” “…Do we need to stop by a convenience store first?” “No need, I have supplies at home.” I smiled coyly at him, deepening the curve of my lips: “Plenty.” Our eyes met. Ethan frowned. In that moment, he was hesitant and conflicted. I could guess what he was thinking – on one side, the shackles of morality. On the other, an attractive woman with good chemistry, nonchalantly propositioning him. And he happened to be single, at an age when passions run high. He was a lawyer, not a saint. So he took the bait. Mr. Yates was quite restrained at first. But once we got upstairs and he took off those glasses and loosened his shirt, he was every bit the wolf in sheep’s clothing. He was gone when I woke up the next day. By the time I got up it was already 11 AM. There was a stack of cash on the nightstand. Perfect. We both got what we wanted, no need for emotional baggage on either side. I sat in a chair on the balcony. As the midday sun blazed, I lit a cigarette, examining the tiny ember at the tip. Just before it burned out, I took a deep drag. The feeling of smoke filling my lungs was strangely satisfying. 0

A few days passed with no word from Ethan. But half a month later, I made an excuse to seek him out. It started with that girl Mandy getting her head smashed with a bottle. The man who hit her was called Harvey, a regular at Horizon. We usually called him Mr. He. That’s right, he was a rich second-generation heir. And he was infamous in the city for his arrogance. When I rushed over after hearing the news, I pushed open the door to see Mandy crouched on the ground clutching her head, blood seeping through her fingers. Tina and the others stood to the side, faces pale, not daring to make a sound. Seeing me enter, the young heir narrowed his eyes and sneered: “Ava, am I short on cash or stingy with tips? Why the hell are you sending me these prudes? Playing hard to get when I’m trying to drink with them. Who do they think they are, trying to act all chaste in a place like this?” I didn’t need to guess what happened. Keeping a smile on my face, I went over to help Mandy up. “I’m so sorry Mr. He, we’ve ruined your good time. Please don’t be angry, we can talk this out. Let me call someone to take the girl to the hospital first. That bottle was no joke.” Chris and the others who had rushed over took Mandy away. I gestured for Tina and the rest to leave too, leaving only myself and the floor manager Ryan to smooth things over. I’ve known Ryan for over a decade, back when Frank was just starting out in the city. He was about the same age as Frank, a gruff man in his late 30s. For him, this kind of scene was nothing new. Good-naturedly, Ryan chatted with Harvey for a bit, then said: “The girl was out of line, she definitely needs more training. But Mr. He, we’re living in a society of law and order now. Hitting people is still not right, no matter what.” Harvey was young and arrogant. He retorted dismissively: “I was just trying to scare her. Who knew she’d be dumb enough not to dodge. Fine, I hit her – I’ll pay the medical bills, that’s that.” Rich people are always so fearless. I smiled and said: “Mr. He, that blow was no joke. It’s a concussion at the very least. The bill won’t be less than $70-80,000.” “What? How much did you say?” Harvey looked at me like he’d heard a joke, laughing coldly. “You think you can just name a price? Who do you think you are?” “Who I am doesn’t matter. What matters is that you’ll be paying not just medical bills, but emotional damages too. If the poor girl is traumatized for life, that shadow will follow her forever.” I smiled calmly as I watched his face grow increasingly dark. Then I added: “If Mr. He thinks the price is too high, how about I call Frank and let him discuss it with you?” I’ve said before, in this city, mentioning Frank’s name always inspires a degree of fear. Harvey stared at me, his expression flickering between anger and uncertainty. Finally he let out a laugh. “Fine, whatever price you name. I’ve got plenty of money. Next time if I accidentally hit you on the head, we’ll use the same rate to settle up.” The threat in his words was clear. I just smiled silently as I looked at him. Ryan frowned first. “Mr. He, you can’t say things like that.” Harvey laughed heartily. “It’s just a joke, why so serious? Ava’s no ordinary woman, how could I dare touch her? Would Frank let me off if I did?” He was right. He wouldn’t dare touch me. Everyone knew that Ava, the sales manager at Horizon, was under Frank’s protection. In fact, many people booked rooms through me as a way to get on Frank’s good side. Ryan drove me to the hospital. Tina was crying when she saw me: “I’m so sorry Ava, I didn’t know Room 503 was Harvey’s. He came late, and when he arrived he specifically asked for Mandy to drink with him. There was nothing I could do no matter what I said.” She felt very guilty. When Mandy first started, I had repeatedly instructed Tina to only let her into rooms with familiar, well-behaved clients until she got used to the work. There were clear finger marks on Tina’s face from being slapped, no doubt by Harvey as well. I patted her shoulder reassuringly. “It’s alright. Look on the bright side – now Mandy will have money to pay for her dad’s medical bills.” Mandy wasn’t seriously hurt. The diagnosis was a moderate concussion, requiring a few days in the hospital. As I expected, she was quite willing to settle privately. No one turns down money. Especially such a large sum. After leaving the hospital, I went straight home. Checking the time, it was almost midnight. After some thought, I called Ethan at this hour. I had found his number on the law firm’s official website. When he picked up, his voice was cool and low as usual, with a hint of annoyance at being woken up: “Hello, who is this?” “Mr. Yates, this is Ava from Horizon Nightclub.” “…” Ethan didn’t speak. He seemed to have woken up fully, falling into a brief silence. I laughed lightly. “I’m sorry, one of our girls was just assaulted. I wanted to consult you on whether we can press criminal charges for intentional injury.” “Where are you right now?” “Um, I just got home from the hospital.” I stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows, gazing out into the dark night. A smile slowly curved my lips. “I don’t know if you could come over at this hour. I can tell you all the details of what happened.” About half an hour later, in the dead of night, Ethan arrived as requested. When I opened the door wearing a lace camisole dress and holding a bottle of wine, he raised an eyebrow, as if expecting this. I smiled too, my damp hair falling loosely around my ears. I raised the wine bottle. “Want a drink?” “I don’t drink.” “Oh? What happens if you do?” He gazed at me intently, moving closer to grip my waist. Lowering his head to my ear, he let out a soft laugh. “I go crazy.”

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I died in the year I loved him most. His fortune, worth hundreds of millions—he just walked away from it all. He let his entire empire burn, just to be with me. Then I opened my eyes again, ten years earlier. We had just gotten married, and I hated him more than anyone. I rushed to his company, and the moment I saw him, I choked out, “Julian, I’m sorry.” He froze for a brief moment, then his expression turned cold. “Go on, tell me. How are you going to torture me this time?” I remember Julian didn’t make it out of that final explosion. He, who was always so impeccably neat, knelt beside me and whispered, “Clara, don’t be scared. I’m here with you.” He was 38 that year. A fortune worth hundreds of millions—he just walked away from it all. He let his entire empire burn, just to be with me. … It was a midsummer evening, and the setting sun outside the window bled like fire. A muggy breeze drifted into the room. I woke from my dream, sitting on the bed in a daze. The alarm clock in the corner ticked softly, and the desk calendar lay quietly on the table. “Madam, Mr. Julian just called. He said he won’t be back tonight.” Martha’s voice drifted in from the living room, calm and peaceful. I looked down at the brand-new wedding ring on my ring finger. I closed my eyes for a moment. I was actually back ten years in the past. The sky-high flames from before I died, and that warm, strong embrace, felt so real. In his final moments, Julian had still been telling me, “Don’t be afraid, Clara. I’ve waited for you for too long in this life. In the next, I’ll find you early.” Was this a dream, or reality? I pinched myself, and a dull ache shot up my thigh. The blaring car horns outside the window jolted my chaotic thoughts awake. After the initial shock, a deep, lingering ache and bitterness washed over me. A meticulously orchestrated misunderstanding had made me hate Julian for many years. During that time, his rivals used every dirty trick to crush him. They left him no room to breathe. At home, my coldness kept him away, so he rarely came back. Julian’s parents had passed away young, and he had no other relatives. He lived for half his life, guarding a vast business empire all alone. Later, the misunderstanding was resolved. We had a brief six months of happiness, and I even became pregnant with our child. But before I could tell him the news, I died a tragic death. … “Madam, the flowers have arrived. Are you ready to go?” Martha came in to ask. “What?” My mind was still reeling. “The flowers, weren’t you going to see Mr. Noah?” Noah… Hearing that name suddenly, I froze. A tangled mess of thoughts suddenly found a thread. So, it was this day.

Noah was my childhood friend. He was also a very talented actor. Unfortunately… a “accident” left him with severe burns all over his body, requiring long-term hospitalization. On this day in my previous life, I carried a bouquet of flowers to the hospital. After celebrating Noah’s birthday at the hospital, I emerged to find Julian sitting in his car, a cigarette burning down to its filter between his fingers, completely oblivious. I didn’t want to explain anything, didn’t even want to see him. “Clara.” Julian spotted me, stubbed out his cigarette, and got out of the car, his voice filled with sorrow. “…It’s my birthday today.” I stopped, turning back to look at him coldly. “So what?” Julian’s dark eyes stared at me, silent. I said, “It’s Noah’s birthday too. You did whatever it took to marry me, ruined his face, and destroyed his future. What more do you want from me?” Julian opened his mouth, but only managed to say, “That was just an accident…” “If you hadn’t invited him that day, he wouldn’t be lying in a hospital now. How can I believe that was an accident?” Julian fell silent. Finally, he told me, “I’m sorry.” From that day on, my relationship with Julian plummeted. A long and agonizing cold war began. Later, I learned that what even Julian believed was an “accident” was nothing more than a scheme by certain people to drive a wedge between us.

“I’ve already put your things in the car for you. If you leave any later, you’ll hit traffic.” Martha came back to call me. Outside the window, the sunset was halfway down, casting dim light. I snapped back to reality, hastily pulling on my coat, and got into the car. Because I suddenly realized that this was ten years ago, and everything could still be changed. The driver merged into traffic. “This road to the hospital is already jammed. Maybe you should call Mr. Noah and ask him to wait…” “Not the hospital.” I looked at the constantly changing traffic lights outside the window, and changed my mind. “To the company.” … Truth be told, I didn’t have many memories of Julian’s company. When I was younger, I hated him so much I never bothered to visit. Later, when I loved him, he was being targeted by enemies, and danger lurked everywhere, so I didn’t dare go looking for him. Which is why, at this moment, standing beneath a cluster of towering office buildings, I felt a bit lost. Which one was his office building anyway? Passersby eyed me curiously: holding a giant bouquet, dressed elegantly, with makeup on, like a girl about to confess her feelings. I awkwardly pulled out my phone and dialed Julian’s number. Just his full name. Not even listed as an emergency contact. I pressed call, expecting to wait a long time. But after just two short rings, he picked up. His cool, distant voice came through the receiver. “What is it?” Hearing his voice again, my eyes suddenly welled up, and my voice involuntarily caught in my throat. “Julian, where’s your office? I can’t find it…” The passersby looked at me even stranger. A woman who couldn’t find her husband’s office, standing on the curb, sobbing. Julian seemed to be in a meeting. He paused briefly, then said, “Let’s stop here for today.” Then he told me, “Go stand on the sidewalk. I’m coming down.” A few minutes later, Julian walked out of the office building. His tall figure cut through the neon lights, dressed in a sharp suit, noble and self-possessed. In contrast, my reflection in the glass showed eyeliner streaking down with my tears, like the girl from ‘Orphan’. Damn it, it was all ruined. “Why are you here?” His tone was flat, almost icy. I turned my head. The tall, handsome man was looking at me with a cold expression, his pupils reflecting my scribbled-on face, his expression stiffening slightly. No matter when, Julian was always perfectly composed. Like a flower blooming on a cliff, unsullied. “I’m sorry,” I said, lowering my head, not daring to look at him. “Did I bother you…” “Today…” He only said two words, then stopped. I knew what he wanted to say. Today, I should be celebrating Noah’s birthday, not showing up here. That actually reminded me. I shoved the flowers into his arms, mumbling vaguely, “Happy birthday.” A long silence followed. I secretly glanced at him and noticed he was staring at the bouquet, but he didn’t look very happy. After a long moment, he let out a bitter, sarcastic laugh. “Clara, those are his discards, aren’t they?” “What?” I realized his mood had shifted, and my gaze suddenly fell on the bouquet, my heart sinking. Oh no! Ice-blue roses. Their meaning: to give you the stars and the sea. Noah’s favorite things were also the stars and the sea. My memories upon waking had been too chaotic. I’d been so focused on finding Julian that I’d overlooked these details. “I’m sorry, I—” “Thank you for the birthday gift.” Julian’s tone was almost stiff. “It’s getting late. Have the driver take you home.” He turned to leave. I quickly grabbed the hem of his suit. “Wait!” Julian hadn’t expected my move and didn’t stop, causing me to stumble and crash hard into his back. His bespoke suit was a crumpled, colorful mess. Julian turned, staring at my fingers, silent for a long time. I was stubborn, insisting, “Julian, I’m not going back.” His expression was desolate. “Clara, how are you going to torture me this time?” That question was really hard to answer. From my memories, Julian and I had just gotten married around this time, and I was constantly picking fights with him. I was 23, he was 28.

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My lover has delusions. He sees me as his enemy, his mortal foe, the one person he despises most. Day after day, I play along with his twisted game. Until one day, I just couldn’t anymore. I was diagnosed with cancer. **1** When I got home, the house was dark. I dropped my bag, kicked off my shoes, and fumbled for the light switch on the wall. The moment my hand hit the switch, a plate flew past my head. I ducked, barely dodging it. The lights flickered on. Julian stood on the stairs, his face utterly blank as he stared at me. “So, you decided to show up.” “…” I managed a small smile and walked over to him. I reached out and wrapped my arms around him. “Can you stop acting like a whiny, complaining partner, Julian?” He smelled faintly of the cologne I’d picked out for him, a floral scent. I always hoped it would soften the icy aura he gave off. But it never did. His eyes still held pure revulsion when he looked at me. **2** Tiny shards of light glittered from the crystal chandelier. But even with the lights on, the living room felt unnervingly cold. And the man sitting beside me offered no warmth at all. I placed my tablet on my lap, flipping through pages to show him. “Look, for our wedding, don’t you think this dress would be perfect?” “The skirt is designed like a mermaid’s tail.” “It’s so beautiful, like shimmering light just gliding over it.” “And I really love this one too, the veil has stars on it, just like the ones you showed me at the—” A mocking laugh cut me off. He raised his head, his dark eyes fixed on me. “Did we ever *have* a past?” I desperately wanted to tell him we did, that we had so many wonderful memories together. But the man in front of me always saw me as a monster, the kind of villain beyond redemption. He grabbed my chin, pulling my face close, and his lips brushed against the corner of mine. His voice, usually so cold, had a seductive lilt, a dark, alluring whisper that made me shiver. “Good girl, now give me the medication.” **3** Julian listened to me, but only because… I had something he desperately craved. If he’d ever bothered to look through the agency’s internal reports from years ago, he would have starkly seen his name listed under drug enforcement commendations and injured in the line of duty. Julian developed an addiction during his undercover work. After his undercover assignment ended, he was diagnosed with a paranoid psychotic disorder. Essentially, delusions. He classified almost everyone around him as an enemy, and that included me. Even me, the person he once said he loved most, the one he swore to protect with his life. The gentle man I knew was long gone. He’d been dragged into his own personal hell, and his gaze when he looked at me was like looking into a thousand-year-old ice cave. The bedroom was dim. I yanked on his collar, pushing him back onto the bed. He was beneath me, yet his eyes were strangely calm. Even tainted by addiction, he looked as pure as a distant, untouchable god. A slight curl of his lips was still enough to take my breath away. I leaned down to kiss him, but with a surprising surge of strength, he flipped me over. He fumbled in my chest pocket for a moment and pulled out a syringe. Then, with practiced ease, he plunged it into his right arm. … To him, that syringe was a hit of pure drug. But it wasn’t. It was a specially formulated sedative, a psychiatric medication designed just for him. Addiction recovery isn’t something that happens overnight; it requires slowly tapering the dosage. Suddenly, I understood why he hated me so much. Because, in his eyes, I wasn’t his closest lover. I was the one who had gotten him hooked, then dangled just enough to manipulate him, day after day… Just a villain. **4** I had a dream. It was years ago, when Julian was still undercover. One Christmas Eve, I went to meet him. We navigated through the crowds, seeing each other only through the folds of newspapers we pretended to read. He had his hands shoved into his pockets, leaning against a railing like he didn’t have a bone in his body. Julian was handsome, and even a slight smirk made him look dangerously charming, drawing glances from every girl nearby. Right in front of me, he whistled at two of them. I kicked his shin. “Ow!” he yelped, then lowered his voice to call out to me. “Babe, I have to play the part, right?” He was already starting to pick up the rough edges of the underworld, but his eyes were still clear. Christmas carols jingled in the background. He tilted his head back, a playful tone in his voice. “Three years from now, then another three years, then another three…” It was a line from ‘Infernal Affairs,’ our favorite crime thriller. He turned his head, our eyes finally meeting in the reflection on the glass. “When am I finally going to marry you?” … I lowered my newspaper, brushing past him. “Finish your mission, and I’ll be waiting for you to marry me.” … The mission was over, but I never got to marry him. I woke up early the next morning, and the spot beside me was empty. No sign of him. I knew he hated me, that he didn’t want to share a bed with me. But when I went downstairs and couldn’t find him anywhere, panic set in. I searched every single room in the house. Nothing. I called a friend, my hand shaking so hard I could barely hold the phone. But he wasn’t anywhere. I clutched my head and sank to the floor. Lately, it was always like this. If I thought too hard about anything, my head would throb. My vision blurred from the pounding pain, but the desperate worry of not finding him was the real torture. Frantically, I typed out messages, even thinking of asking my old colleagues at the agency to help me track him down. My frantic heart pounded faster and faster, until a pair of white sneakers appeared in front of me. “What are you doing?” His voice was steady, still so cold and indifferent. Julian wasn’t Julian anymore, and yet, he still was. But the detached man standing before me could never truly merge with the playful boy from my memories. I stood up and wrapped my arms around him. I don’t know why, but I always loved holding him. It was like I could somehow imprint my warmth onto him, even though he never once hugged me back. “I thought you left, Julian.” He took a step back, subtly pushing me away. “I just went to water the flowers.” “…” I smiled faintly, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “What do you want for dinner tonight? I’ll make you…”

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My mom said she was on a mission. If she couldn’t make my dad fall in love with her again, the system would wipe her out. Completely erased from existence. I secretly told Dad, but he just said, “Then let her die.” Mom heard it too. She didn’t cry. She just held me gently. Later, Mom really died. But my cold, heartless dad, he went crazy. Mom slept for a really, really long time. It was way past time to take me to preschool, but she still wasn’t awake. I touched her body. It was cold, and stiff. Not warm and soft like usual. “Mommy, I’m hungry.” I shook her hard, but she still didn’t open her eyes. She wasn’t like this before. Before, if I just whined a little, she’d wake up instantly, pull me into her arms, and soothe me gently. But now, she was sleeping so deeply. I pulled the blanket over her to cover her properly, then climbed out of bed to call Dad. Dad hadn’t been home for days. Our neighbor, Ms. Davis, said his first love, Celeste, had divorced and come back last month, and that he didn’t want Mom and me anymore. Ms. Davis also said Mom looked a lot like Celeste, and Dad must have married Mom because he mistook her for Celeste. I didn’t know what a “first love” was, so I went to ask Mom. Mom was quiet for a long time before she said: “It’s about what you never truly had, what’s forever in the past.” I didn’t get it. I started to hate the moon. Because it took my dad away.

Mom had set a password on her phone so I couldn’t watch videos. I couldn’t call Dad. I held the phone up to Mom’s face, but it didn’t unlock automatically like it usually did. I said to the phone, “Voice Assistant, I won’t secretly watch cartoons anymore. Please unlock, I need to call Dad.” But the voice assistant didn’t respond. I went to knock on Ms. Davis’s door, but no one was home either. I had no choice but to climb back into bed and lie next to Mom, watching her. Mom was beautiful. Even sleeping, she was beautiful, more beautiful than any fairy on TV. Dad used to often watch Mom when she was asleep, and then he’d carry Mom from my side into their room. He’d playfully nip at Mom like a puppy. Mom was most afraid of dogs, but she never pushed Dad away. The next morning, Mom would always wake up late, rushing to make breakfast for Dad and me. Adults always say kids don’t remember things, but I remember everything. I remember that no matter how rushed Mom was back then, her eyes were always full of laughter. But Dad didn’t smile. He just sat there looking at his phone, then went to work after breakfast, dropping me off at preschool on the way. The teachers at preschool all loved it when Dad brought me. I heard them say my dad was the most handsome of all the dads, tall and good-looking and rich, like a movie star. They also said my dad was cold and aloof, and if only he were a little gentler, he’d be perfect. I thought they were wrong. Leo’s dad was clearly the best-looking. Leo’s dad always carried him on his shoulders when he brought him to preschool. How cool was that? My dad would just lift me down from the car and tell me to go into preschool by myself.

I took out the photo from Mom’s hand. We’d taken it at the art gallery a few days ago. Dad originally had plans and didn’t want to go with us, but Mom held his hand. “Just one more photo, please. Lily can look at it when she grows up. Otherwise… otherwise, it’d be so sad.” I saw tears in Mom’s eyes, but she held them back. Dad finally agreed. In the photo, Mom was holding me in a princess dress, leaning gently on Dad’s shoulder. Dad didn’t push Mom away; he quietly let her lean on him. Out of the three of us, I was the only one smiling the happiest. Last night before bed, Mom held me and looked at this photo together. She kissed my cheek and said, “I wish Mom were more useful.” “Lily, you have to grow up brave, and never be afraid.” I happily rolled around in her arms, “Okay, I’ll grow up brave!” She smiled too, but tears were on her face. She’d been crying a lot lately, even more than me. Then she sang me to sleep. In a daze, I heard her pleading with someone, “It’s not time yet, why are you here… Let me make a call and arrange things for my daughter… She’s only three, please…” I didn’t know who she was talking to. There were only two of us at home. But I was so tired, my eyelids felt too heavy to lift. When I woke up, Mom was lying next to me, her blanket barely covering her, which was why her body was so cold. I used my tiny hand to hold Mom’s, hoping she’d get warmer. No luck.

After a while, Mom’s phone rang. I went to answer, but the ringtone stopped. The phone was dead. I plugged the phone in to charge, but no one called back. I was hungry. I moved a small stool and opened the fridge, but I could only reach a bag of bread. I wanted to get the milk from deeper inside the fridge, but the stool fell, and I tumbled down hard. “Mommy, it hurts!” I cried as I went to find Mom. Mom still didn’t wake up. She was always so worried about me falling and getting hurt. I cried until I was tired, then fell asleep next to Mom. In my dream, I heard Dad’s voice. No, it wasn’t a dream. Dad really was back. I opened my eyes and heard the sound of the door code being entered. The door opened, but Dad didn’t walk in. Only his voice came through: “Lily’s preschool called and said she didn’t show up. I came back to check. Don’t worry, it’s normal after surgery. Go ask the doctor, I’ll be right there to find you.” He was on the phone, and his voice was so gentle. He had never spoken to Mom and me like that. He was always so indifferent to us, sometimes even cold. “Daddy.” I crawled off the bed from beside Mom and ran out. Dad frowned when he saw me. “Why aren’t you dressed? Where’s Mom?” I stopped, afraid to go closer, and whispered from the bedroom doorway, “Mommy’s sleeping on the bed.” He didn’t even look at Mom. He just said coldly to her, “Anya, I’ll give you three more days to think about it. The house and car here are all yours. Sign the divorce papers soon; it’ll be better for both of us.” Something fell in the bedroom. I thought Mom had woken up and ran to check. It was just the phone, which had fallen off the charger onto the floor. I went out to call Dad again, but he had already taken the elevator and left. I stood on my tiptoes, trying to press the elevator button to go down and find him, to tell him that Mom wouldn’t wake up. But Mom had said that children should absolutely, absolutely never ride the elevator alone. Once, when I was playing around, I took the elevator down to the underground parking lot. Mom looked for me for a long time and cried, she was so worried. I went back to Mom’s side and lay down. I didn’t want Mom to cry. When she cried, she was so sad, and she’d secretly hide so I wouldn’t see. I loved it when she smiled. The bread was all gone; I could only drink water. I was still hungry after drinking water, and Mom still hadn’t woken up. I thought Mom was sick. When I was sick, I also slept a lot, but Mom would feed me medicine and I’d get better.

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