Author: Momo Chan

For seven years, **Alistair Vance** still called out his **Sera’s** name when he was drunk, even to me. “Sera, please, don’t leave me.” I’d softly agree, then take out his hearing aid. And whisper **Liam’s** name to him. He always believed I was so madly in love with him that I’d willingly play the substitute. Until **Liam**, who was supposed to have died seven years ago, suddenly returned. Seeing the divorce papers I handed him, **Alistair’s** eyes blazed. “You never loved me?” “Of course not.” “Don’t you have anything to say to me?!” I smiled gently. “Thanks for the five million. Otherwise, I still wouldn’t have found him.” 1 The day news of **Seraphina Hayes’s** divorce spread back home. I was with **Alistair Vance** at the hospital for his follow-up. His permanently damaged hearing was beyond recovery, and his legs still couldn’t walk. But hearing that the culprit behind it all was back in the country. A flicker of joy still crossed his usually indifferent eyes. That evening, he got drunk. His eyes hazy, he held my hand and whispered, “Sera, now that you’re back, don’t ever leave me again.” I obediently said, “Okay, I won’t leave you.” But he looked at me again, his expression slowly fading. “You’re not Sera.” My movements stilled. **Alistair** grabbed the small blanket draped over his wheelchair and flung it at my face. “Just because you have a face like Sera’s, you think you can *be* her?” “You don’t deserve her, **Audrey**.” “If there’s nothing else, get out.” His tone was calm, unhurried, as always. The blanket didn’t hit hard, but it felt like a slap across my face. A wave of intense humiliation washed over me, pulling me back years. I was eighteen, the night before my art school auditions. It was **Seraphina Hayes**, **Alistair’s** white moonlight, who tore up all my paintings. She took a small silver hammer, studded with jewels, and systematically broke my fingers, one by one. Even after they healed, my hands would tremble uncontrollably the moment I picked up a paintbrush. I could never paint again. **Alistair** found me, acting as **Seraphina’s** protector. He pushed a check across the table. “If it’s not enough, name your price.” I gripped my trembling hands, biting back the urge to scream at him. “What’s the use of your money? My dreams, my future, she destroyed them all!” Then, **Alistair**, sitting across from me, smiled. He looked at me with an expression of gentle contempt. “Just take it. Aren’t your ‘dreams’ just a way for people like you to earn a little more cash?” Back then, he was aloof and aristocratic, just twenty-three, already the youngest head of the Vance family. He looked down on me, completely. Neither we, nor anyone else in the Vance family, would have guessed then— **Alistair** and I would marry two years later. 2 On my twentieth birthday. It was also **Liam Carter’s** fourth year as a police officer. He fell into the open sea while rescuing our citizens kidnapped by pirates. The country searched that sea for a month afterward, but he was never found. They all said **Liam** was dead. I was in a daze for two months, on the verge of a breakdown. But then, in the corner of a blurry photo on a hidden overseas website, I saw his figure. The image quality was terrible. But **Liam** and I had known each other for over ten years, and I had a gut feeling—that was him. Still, finding him based on that photo was like searching for a needle in a haystack. I needed a lot of money. That’s when it happened. **Seraphina Hayes** abandoned **Alistair**, who was injured because of her, and went abroad to get married. And **Alistair**, once healed, found me. … **Seraphina Hayes** returned seven nights later, late at night. **Alistair** had specially sent people to wait at the airport for a whole day to pick her up. Compared to her triumphant departure, **Seraphina** looked considerably more haggard. She wore a simple white dress, her expression stubborn. “Alistair, you still remember me.” Her gaze shifted to me in the corner, and she suddenly froze. A moment later, she shrieked, almost losing control. “Audrey Stone, you poor, cheap knockoff, what are you doing here?” I silently watched her. **Alistair** calmly stated, “She is my wife now.” **Seraphina** looked incredulous, her eyes red as she demanded, “What do you mean by this?” “You said you’d wait for me forever, and now? You can like *this* kind of person?” She stood stubbornly, tears streaming down her face. That face, which was seventy percent similar to mine, held a fragile beauty. **Alistair** turned his head and ordered me, “Push me over there.” The wheelchair was pushed in front of **Seraphina**. **Alistair** took her hand, sighing softly. “Sera, you were gone so long. I missed you too.” “She’s just a cheap stand-in, don’t mind her.” “Oh, so she’s just a stand-in.” She picked up the steaming cup of water from the table and threw it straight at my face. “Now that I’m back, can I be annoyed by this knockoff face?” **Alistair** didn’t spare me a glance, just looked at her with indulgent understanding. “Of course, you can.” The liquid streamed down my neck, soaking my clothes, leaving a burning sensation on my skin. I was in so much pain I could barely stand. Tears welled up instantly. “Why are you crying? Playing pitiful again, are we?” **Seraphina** looked at me with disgust. “It’s sickening.” **Alistair** finally spared me a glance. He looked at my scalded red face, frowning slightly. And calmly said, “**Audrey Stone**, get out.” 3 The next morning, I received five hundred thousand dollars in my account from **Alistair**. No memo, no explanation. But I knew perfectly well. It was his compensation to me for **Seraphina’s** actions. I was no longer as naive and stubborn as I had been at eighteen, fantasizing about getting justice. I accepted it calmly, even sending him a text saying thank you. After my injuries healed, **Alistair** looked at my face and suddenly smiled. “**Audrey**, I thought you’d always be so proud.” I meekly lowered my gaze. “Mr. Vance, people always change.” There was a gala tonight. **Alistair** had specially prepared it for **Seraphina**. After she went abroad and married, the Hayes family’s influence back home had waned. **Alistair** was using his connections to pave the way for **Seraphina**. During the dinner, **Seraphina’s** old rival, **Mason Reid**, suddenly stood up with a drink in hand. “Seraphina Hayes, weren’t you supposed to be a princess for some royal family overseas?” “How did you end up sneaking back like a stray dog, looking so pathetic?” **Seraphina’s** face instantly turned pale. **Mason** had someone bring a bottle of high-proof liquor and pushed it in front of her. “I know what Mr. Vance’s purpose is for this party tonight.” “Alright, Seraphina. You drink this whole bottle, and all our past grudges are settled.” “If you want to establish yourself here in the future, maybe I can even help you out.” **Seraphina’s** eyes reddened. She looked at **Alistair**, tears trembling on her lashes. “This is hard liquor, I’ll die if I drink it all.” “Alistair, didn’t you say you’d always protect me?” **Alistair** reassuringly squeezed her hand and looked at **Mason**. “Sera used to be stubborn and she probably offended you, so it’s normal that you want to get even.” “How about this drink, someone else can drink it as an apology.” He paused, then looked at me. “**Audrey**.” “Go drink it, then apologize to Mr. Reid.” **Mason** leaned back in his chair, one hand on the backrest, looking amused. “If your wife agrees, I have no problem with it.” The wounds on my face hadn’t fully healed yet. The doctor had specifically told me not to drink. I froze in my chair, pinching my slightly trembling wrist, silently meeting **Alistair’s** gaze. He calmly said, “I’ll have my assistant transfer you a million after this.” The atmosphere was still for a moment. I stood up, picked up the bottle, and tilted my head back, chugging it down. The intense burning sensation from the strong alcohol spread from my throat all the way to my chest. The potent fumes surged up, climbing my windpipe, making my eyes stream with tears. **Mason’s** buddies applauded and cheered. “What a drinker! What a woman!” “Mr. Vance’s wife is so fond of money, what, was she poor in her last life?” Their tone was full of mockery. After I finished, I put down the bottle and bowed deeply to **Mason**. “Mr. Reid, I apologize for any past offenses. Please forgive me.” **Mason** toyed with his glass and smiled. “A million dollars, Mr. Vance certainly has deep pockets.” “Alright, Seraphina. Our grudges are settled.” 4 The restroom outside the banquet hall was dimly lit, permeated with a faint, sweet scent. I clung to the toilet, throwing up until my vision blurred. My stomach and throat were numb with pain, so much so that when I saw streaks of fresh blood in the vomit, I realized— It seemed I was quite seriously hurt. I forced my aching body to call 91

It wasn’t until I was hooked up to an IV drip that I received a call from **Alistair**. “Where are you? Did you get lost throwing up, or are you throwing a tantrum?” His tone carried an implicit note of displeasure. I paused. “At the hospital, on an IV.” He chuckled. “Spending all these years with me has made you quite delicate, hasn’t it?” I didn’t say anything, just looked up at the flickering fluorescent light above me. Perhaps the light was too harsh, stinging my eyes, filling them with tears. “I’ll have my driver pick you up from the hospital later. No one else takes care of me as thoroughly as you do.” With that, **Alistair** hung up. He had injured his legs and ears saving **Seraphina** back then. **Seraphina** abandoned him and went abroad, and I married into the Vance family in her place. Because **Alistair** was paralyzed, we didn’t even have a marital life. I, his wife in name only, was nothing more than his personal caregiver. When I got home late that night, **Seraphina** was already asleep. **Alistair** was waiting for me in his study. He’d had some wine, looking at me hazily. “The money has been transferred to your card.” “Okay.” “Audrey, don’t blame me. Sera has never suffered any grievances since she was a child. She’s not like you.” I sniffled and softly said, “I understand.” “Mr. Vance, I’d like to go abroad next month to see an art exhibition, if I may?” **Alistair** smiled. “Of course, you can.” “Audrey, see? Your so-called dreams are only worth this much money, aren’t they?” I said yes. Perhaps due to the alcohol, he leaned back in his wheelchair, eyelids heavy with drowsiness. Looking at that face, which was maybe thirty percent similar to the one in my memory. I reached out, took off his hearing aid, and spoke in a hoarse voice. “Liam.” Just that one name, and tears streamed down my face uncontrollably. “It’s been seven years. Please, let me find you next month, okay?” 5 Perhaps because I was going to look for him. That night, I dreamed of **Liam** again. We grew up in the same orphanage. He was always brave and had a strong sense of justice. Later, he became a SWAT officer. I wanted to study art, to go to art school, and he sent me all his income. “Go to a good art studio, don’t skimp on materials.” He came to visit me at school, ruffled my hair, and slipped me a debit card. “You just pursue your dreams. Leave everything else to me, Audrey.” I wanted to become a famous painter, to make **Liam** proud of me. But all of that was destroyed by **Seraphina Hayes**. The second month after my fingers were broken, **Liam** returned from a mission. He almost lost his mind. The unit’s expert marksman, capable of shooting accurately from thousands of yards away, his bullet never deviating from its trajectory. But he held my hand, trembling uncontrollably. He couldn’t suppress the anger in his voice. “I’ll kill them.” “Don’t say such things, **Liam**.” I rested my head on his shoulder, closing my eyes wearily. “I’m so tired.” “I need to sleep for a bit.” For that entire month, my injuries healed slowly. **Alistair** kept sending people to torment me mentally. Every day, I woke up repeatedly from pain and nightmares. It wasn’t until I leaned against **Liam**, smelling his familiar scent, that I finally relaxed. The Hayes family’s influence was too great, and they had the Vance family allied with them. They produced a psychiatric diagnosis certificate for **Seraphina**. And paid me a large sum for medical expenses. **Liam** was a man of integrity and honor, risking his life to protect others. But he was helpless against **Seraphina Hayes**. After I recovered, he returned to his unit. Before he left, he held me and promised, “One day, I’ll see **Seraphina Hayes** brought to justice.” “You believe me, Audrey.” Tears streaming down my face, I nodded desperately. I had always believed him. I just… didn’t wait for him. 6 With **Alistair’s** relentless help, **Seraphina Hayes** perfectly integrated back into the social circles within half a month of her return. The night before I was to leave the country, I dropped them off at a business meeting and prepared to head back. “My flight is early tomorrow morning.” I softly told **Alistair**, “Mr. Vance, I’ll head back and rest now.” He nodded, his expression indifferent. **Seraphina**, standing nearby, suddenly spoke up. “Hold it.” She held a glass of red wine, tilting her head slightly as she looked at me. “I heard you’re going abroad to see an art exhibition?” “Your hands are useless, you can’t even hold a paintbrush. **Audrey Stone**, are you still dreaming of being a great artist?” I ignored her and continued towards the door. She directly smashed the wine glass against my back. The wine splashed out, staining the back of my dress. “Did I say you could leave?” **Seraphina** lowered her voice. “Get back here and help me drink tonight.” “Anyway, you common folk, you’re born to serve.” I froze in place, unmoving. **Alistair** sighed softly, speaking to me with a resigned yet indulgent tone. “Listen to Sera, Audrey.” “Otherwise, I’ll have to cancel your flight for tomorrow.” In that moment. I suddenly thought of **Liam** again. Back in the art studio, the first time **Seraphina Hayes** publicly humiliated me. She pinched her nose, standing several feet away, and said loudly, “It stinks.” “How dare people like you stay in the same art studio as us?” That night, I called **Liam**. “Are people born with different statuses, high or low?” He was on his way to a mission then. The car window was open. The wind from the open field whistled through the phone into my ear. **Liam’s** voice was slightly muffled, but it seemed to carry the force of a thunderclap. “Audrey, all humans are born equal.” “No matter where they’re born or raised, for example, right now, the same moon shines on all of us.” 7 Under **Alistair’s** protection, no one dared to mention **Seraphina Hayes’s** messy divorce anymore. Everyone praised her instead. “I hear Ms. Hayes is a renowned painter and artist abroad.” “Her works are priceless, even royal families from various countries compete to buy them.” **Seraphina** was very pleased, her smile elegant. “You all flatter me. I just have a bit of talent for painting.” She was allergic to alcohol, so she couldn’t drink. I had to drink for her. That night, I went to the restroom several times to throw up. My neck broke out in red rashes. When I went back, I happened to hear people quietly discussing. “That woman Seraphina is with, is that Mr. Vance’s wife? She looks so much like her.” “What wife? She’s just a servant. She sold herself to be a stand-in for money, lost all her dignity.” “That knockoff will be kicked out of the family soon, won’t she?” A few people laughed, their eyes full of scorn. My back was soaked with cold sweat. I leaned against the hallway wall, trying to catch my breath. I opened my phone. **Alistair** had transferred another million. “I hung ‘Moonlight Over the Wild’ in the exhibition. Sera is in a bad mood, don’t blame her.” I knew. Recently, she was holding an art exhibition, and someone offered a high price, wanting her to paint another piece exactly like ‘Moonlight Over the Wild.’ But that painting wasn’t by **Seraphina Hayes**. It was a piece I’d painted after that phone call with **Liam**, when I was seventeen, staying up all night. Later, to raise money, I sold it for twenty thousand dollars. After marrying **Alistair**, I found out he was the anonymous buyer. The wind in the wilderness had shape, and the moonlight shone equally on every piece of land. This was something **Seraphina Hayes**, who constantly called people “inferior,” could never paint. 8 The seventh year. I finally found the photographer who took that picture. “Do you know where he is now?” He shook his head. Seeing my disappointment, he hesitated, then lowered his voice. “Actually, I photographed this person again six months ago.” I stiffened abruptly. “But the place where the photo was taken is very dangerous. If I expose it to you, I’ll have to move from here immediately and move across the ocean.” “If you want it, you’ll have to pay a high price.” I was still two million short of the money I needed. After returning home, I found **Alistair**. Before he could say anything, **Seraphina Hayes**, who was beside him, laughed. “How shameless. Do you really think you’re worth that much money?” I ignored her, my gaze fixed on **Alistair**. “Mr. Vance, whatever your terms, just name them.” He met my desperate gaze, a slight愣. But still said, “**Audrey**, Sera isn’t happy lately. I need to console her.” “This matter, she’ll decide.” **Seraphina** looked at me, smiling slowly. “Audrey Stone, aren’t you proud that your talent is higher than mine? Don’t you despise us rich people the most?” “You want money? Fine, then get on your knees and beg me.” The moment I knelt before her. My lips were chapped and bleeding. **Seraphina** suddenly burst into laughter. “You actually believed that? How stupid can you be?” She narrowed her eyes. “Just kidding.” “Back when I broke your hands, your brother went to my uncle just like that, saying he’d bring me to justice—he didn’t know that when he was begging like that, I was sitting right next door, enjoying the show.” “Your brother is just like you, naive and foolish, one of those common folk.” “I heard he died? Well, that’s truly—” She leaned slightly closer, her smile as sweet as a poisonous flower, mesmerizing. “Per-fect.” The taut string in my mind snapped. Before I even realized what I was doing, I was grabbing her hair, slamming her head against the edge of the table. I bit into her shoulder, wanting to tear a piece of flesh off. **Seraphina** had never suffered like this. Tears streamed down her face from the pain. But she was used to living in luxury, utterly no match for my strength. “Audrey Stone, are you insane?!” She struggled desperately to push me away, screaming hysterically, “You rabid dog!” Finally, **Alistair**, sitting in his wheelchair, called for the butler and servants. His face was cold, for the first time dropping his facade of gentle politeness in front of me. “Audrey, you’ve been married into this family for seven years, and you still haven’t learned what decorum means.” “I’ve been too good to you, letting you lose your sense of proportion.” When I was forcibly pulled away by several people, my mouth was full of blood. **Seraphina** was nearly hysterical. She slapped me twice, then ordered the others to drag me into the bathroom. The bathtub was filled with cold water. My face was shoved in. Water flooded my nostrils and eyes, making me tremble and convulse with pain. Just as I was about to suffocate, I was yanked up by my hair. And shoved back down again. In the second before I lost consciousness. I wondered. When **Liam** fell into the open sea. Was it like this too? Was he this desperate too? Did he think of me like this? 9 **Seraphina Hayes’s** attack was too brutal. In the end, I was rushed to the hospital for emergency treatment. I fell seriously ill. As compensation, **Alistair** transferred three million dollars to me. He said, “It’s more than what you asked for, so don’t make a fuss with me anymore, Audrey.” I didn’t bother arguing with him. I transferred the money, wanting to buy that photo. But the money was sent back. The photographer’s account was deactivated. I sat blankly in the hospital. The sunlight poured in like molten gold through the window, illuminating me. But I felt like I couldn’t perceive any warmth at all. I don’t know how much time passed, but then there was a knock on the door. I looked up and saw a serious-looking middle-aged man. On the day I was discharged, he led me into an unassuming, secret small building. “The situation is very dangerous. Don’t look for **Liam** anymore. We can’t even contact him right now.” He said, “Whether he’s alive or dead, we’ll have an answer in at most a month.” I looked at him blankly. “So, he’s not dead?” “He wasn’t before, but now it’s hard to say. His mission is extremely dangerous. He went off-grid a week ago.” Tears streamed down my face. My voice trembling, I asked, “Then why didn’t he let you tell me?” “Liam knew you were married, and that you married… **Alistair Vance**.” “He said it was to avoid disturbing you.” “He wanted you to believe he died seven years ago.” … When I left the small building, darkness had fallen. I looked at the setting sun, feeling as if fate had played a cruel joke on me. When I returned, **Alistair** was waiting in his wheelchair in the villa’s courtyard. Seeing me, he spoke in a low voice, “Where did you go after the hospital, Audrey?” “Are you mad at me?” I looked at his arrogant face, subtly hinting at displeasure. In truth, it bore only a fleeting resemblance to **Liam’s** sharp, battle-hardened face after going through so many life-or-death situations. I just… I just missed him too much. Even that small resemblance was enough to pull me back from the brink of suffocation. But after today, it seemed everything was meaningless. I walked past him numbly, ignoring him. But my wrist was grabbed. “If it’s about Sera, I admit, I did favor her a bit.” His tone was deliberately softened. As if he’d made a huge concession for me. “As compensation, I’ll have my assistant transfer another sum of money to you.” “Don’t make a scene anymore.” I didn’t speak, just stared into the distance, at the setting sun during twilight. It was swallowed by the distant mountains, little by little. The moment night fell, I spoke quietly. “Alistair, let’s get a divorce.” 10 He frowned, warning me, “These years, I’ve really spoiled you, made you forget your place.” “Who else would give someone in your position this much money if you leave me?” I covered my face and laughed. “What use is money to me?” “Useless? Did you forget how you knelt and begged me before?” I ignored him, simply placing the drafted divorce papers on his desk. And moved out of the Vance mansion. Days passed. A month later, I received an invitation from the orphanage where I grew up. To attend their charity fundraiser. These days, **Alistair** initially thought I was just sulking, not wanting me to push my luck. Later, he seemed to realize I was serious. And started lowering himself to coax me. “Don’t make a fuss with me, Audrey.” “Come back, and I’ll have Sera personally apologize to you.” I never replied. On the day of the fundraiser. I walked onto the stage and immediately spotted **Alistair** in the audience. He was staring intently at me. The host asked me, “I hear Ms. Stone grew up in this orphanage and has made multiple donations since.” “Yes, I want the children who come after to have a better life.” This was something **Liam** had been doing ever since he graduated. He was gone, so it fell to me. “As far as I know, Ms. Stone had a brother who grew up with her here, working a very commendable profession, named **Liam Carter**?” Hearing **Liam’s** name, I suddenly froze. My gaze swept across the room, then settled on a dim corner of the hall. The heart in my chest suddenly began to pound wildly. It took a long time to find my voice. “…Not my brother.” “He’s not my brother.” “Liam is six years older than me, but I never called him brother, because I love him.” Below the stage, **Alistair**, sitting in his wheelchair, his face abruptly turned ashen. The most fervent, unmasked affection of my life had always been reserved for **Liam** alone. The host was stunned. “But… Ms. Stone seems to be connected to Mr. Vance, who is also here tonight—” “It was just a transaction. **Alistair** and I are already divorced.” I said, “Thank you, Mr. Vance, for the compensation all these years, which gave me ample funds to search for **Liam**.” “Whether he’s alive or dead, I had to find him.” “He will always be a hero in my heart.” As I said these words, I didn’t look at **Alistair**, whose eyes were red. I just stared intently at that dim corner. Watching that familiar figure step out of the shadows. Into the light. Walking step by step toward me. He was so much thinner, his cheeks slightly sunken, and exposed skin was covered in scars. But those cold, sharp eyes were fixed on me, bright as stars, softening in an instant. “Now, you’ve found me.”

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“Aria, I’m over it.” Leo rolled off the couch, chin tilted defiantly, an arrogant smirk playing on his lips. I froze, my hand instinctively flying to my shirt buttons. “Okay.” “Okay?” “It’s too late now. Taxis are expensive,” I said, reaching for the bag he’d tossed onto the table, pulling out my phone to check the time. “You can leave tomorrow morning.” His beautiful eyes fixed on me, saying nothing. “If you can’t wake up,” I added, my voice incredibly soft, “tomorrow afternoon works too.” He reached out, grabbing my outstretched hand. His six-foot-plus frame suddenly loomed, an overwhelming presence. “You’re something else, Aria,” he whispered close to my ear. The next morning, squeezed onto a packed subway during rush hour, my SnapChat groups exploded with messages. The reason? A famous actress had been caught on camera late at night, spending time in a wealthy heir’s apartment. I work in entertainment media, and this concrete proof was absolutely explosive. Blake Davis, from the Davis family, worth hundreds of millions. Born with a silver spoon in his mouth. “Maybe she’ll actually marry him,” a colleague grumbled to me. “No, she won’t,” I replied curtly. “How do you know?” Because I’m Blake Davis’s wife. Or, to be precise, his ex-wife. It took everything I had to marry Blake. The subway pulled into the station, and I squeezed out like a sardine, accidentally dropping my earbuds. I turned back to see them on the ground, stepped on a few times. Before I could even pick them up, the train doors closed. Rushing to clock in, I sped to the office, barely catching an elevator. But then it beeped loudly, overloaded, and under everyone’s watchful eyes, I had to step out, defeated. Ah… my perfect attendance bonus… With a sigh of resignation, I waited for the next elevator. Pulling out my phone, I saw a text from Leo from fifteen minutes ago. He’d ordered breakfast delivery to my office and told me to remember to answer the rider’s call. I swiped up and saw a missed call from an unknown number five minutes ago. Must be the delivery rider. I’d missed the call. I called back, but it was immediately hung up. After a moment, a text came through: “In a meeting. Hold on.” A meeting? I texted back: “Delivery rider? Just leave it at the front desk, thanks.” I turned to walk towards the front desk when my phone rang. I answered, speaking quickly, “Hi, I’m at the company entrance. You can just bring it over.” There was a moment of silence on the other end, then a calm, unbothered voice. “Rider?” Blake Davis. My feet froze. The last time we’d spoken felt like a lifetime ago. Six months, to be exact. “Is there something you need?” I asked. “Come back to the family estate tonight,” he said. Divorcing him was my idea. He, however, thought I was throwing a tantrum. “Is that all you’ve got?” His eyes held an impatient sneer. “Short on cash again?” He’d found a convenient reason for my actions. Meeting my serious gaze, his brow furrowed. “Is this supposed to be amusing?” He leaned back in his chair, narrowing his eyes. I handed him the divorce papers. He stared into my eyes, like a dangerous predator, and I felt his anger slowly radiating from him. Provoking him, it seemed, had become my source of perverse pleasure in our dysfunctional marriage. But now, it all felt so utterly meaningless. “Stop the drama, just sign,” I said, my voice flat, lightly tossing the agreement onto the table. He watched my actions, then actually chuckled, as if he’d seen right through me. His tone was full of mockery: “Sign? Why wouldn’t I sign?” He seemed convinced I was just trying to manipulate him into staying. I watched as his pen quickly scrawled across the agreement. Once he was done, I reached for it, but he grabbed my wrist, pulling me hard into his embrace, a sensation both strange and unsettlingly familiar. “Leave with nothing but the clothes on your back,” he whispered in my ear. “Let’s see how long you last without me.” “Aria, coming over tonight?” I received Leo’s text just before leaving work. I didn’t reply, putting my phone away and heading to a ride-share with two large bags of groceries. In the car, I thought about it, then picked up my phone to text back. “Busy.” The car pulled up to the outer perimeter of the upscale gated community. The security guard at the gate wouldn’t let us in. I rolled down the window and greeted the guard. He immediately broke into a smile. “Mrs. Davis, it’s been a long time!” As soon as I stepped inside the front door, I caught the rich aroma of pork rib and lotus root soup. Mrs. Davis, the housekeeper, carried the groceries into the kitchen. Then Mrs. Davis, Blake’s mom, quickly untied her apron and rushed into the living room. “Aria, you’re back?” “Mom,” I said, changing into slippers as I walked over. “Smells like pork ribs. So good.” “Yes, it is! I specially simmered it for you this afternoon.” Mrs. Davis was meticulously well-preserved, her skin smooth and glowing, making her look no older than her early thirties. “Oh, Aria, why are your dark circles so heavy? Is work very tiring?” “It’s fine,” I said, sitting on the sofa. “Just used to staying up late.” “Well, that won’t do,” Mrs. Davis said, sitting beside me, her expression serious. “Your health is the most important thing. I always tell Blake to stop making you work so hard, but he always says I’m being meddlesome. Oh, I’ve watched you grow up since you were little, you’re dearer to me than a daughter. It’s just Blake’s personality isn’t good, he doesn’t know how to care for people.” Mrs. Davis held my hand, talking softly and incessantly. “Mom.” Blake’s voice came from behind us. “You’re back?” Mrs. Davis turned. “Oh, why are you two still arriving separately?” “I came from the office,” Blake said, turning to go upstairs. Six months had passed. His voice felt almost like a stranger’s to me. My phone vibrated. It was Leo. “Can’t sleep without you, Aria.” I turned off my phone screen. Mrs. Davis turned back to me. “Are you two staying at the family estate tonight?” “Depends on him,” I said. Mrs. Davis nodded, then remembered something and got up to go to the kitchen. I opened my phone and replied to Leo. “Then don’t sleep.” Blake handed me a bowl of lotus root soup. When my fingertips brushed his, there was a strange, uncomfortable sensation. His gaze flickered to my face for an instant, then away. “Stay at home tonight,” Mr. Davis, Blake’s grandfather, said. “I have something tomorrow,” Blake said, “so no.” Mr. Davis put his bowl down with a thud, which prompted a few coughs. The air suddenly thickened. Blake continued eating as if nothing happened. “Her company is on the north side of the city. Commuting from the family estate would take two hours.” The atmosphere eased slightly. Mr. Davis turned to me. “Still doing that job, dear? “Are you adapting well?” Mr. Davis asked with concern. “If it’s too much, just let Blake lighten your load.” “It’s fine, Grandpa. I’m very used to it.” Blake drove me home. “You’re driving yourself?” I asked from the passenger seat, awkwardly breaking the silence. He said nothing. Always like this. My words, he’d selectively answer. I ran my fingers along the right car window frame. It had been too long since I’d ridden in such a nice car. The feel was so smooth. He turned his head to glance at me, just a fleeting look. Like a royal decree. We drove through the city night, the car silent. Suddenly, a phone rang. Blake answered it. The car was too quiet, so I, sitting in the passenger seat, heard the woman’s voice on the other end crystal clear. She was whining, begging for company. His beautiful eyes flickered to me, an imperceptible glance. Not from guilt, just a test. “I’ll be there tonight,” he said, his tone neither warm nor cold. The woman on the other end was clearly overjoyed, rattling on endlessly. “Don’t call while driving,” I said, my voice low, but it instantly silenced the woman. Blake, however, chuckled. He said a few more words, then hung up. “Deliberate?” He couldn’t help but ask, turning the steering wheel. Heaven’s honest truth, I was only thinking of my own life. “When we were married, I never cared about you seeing other women,” I raised my eyebrows. “We’re divorced now, what business is it of mine?” His car was as cold as he was. I reached out to turn on the heating, but he slapped my hand away. “Outside air circulation,” he said, pressing a button, glancing at me. “Your perfume is suffocating.” “I’m not wearing perfume,” I retorted. Red light. He reached to touch my head. I instinctively flinched back. His hand paused, then he sneered coldly, quickly pulling it away. “Your hair.” I touched my hair, brought it to my nose, and sniffed. Ah, I understood. It was the smell of shampoo from Leo’s apartment. A men’s fragrance. I lowered the strand of hair I’d picked up and looked at Blake. He was waiting for my explanation. I turned my head to the window. “We’re divorced.” Things I didn’t care about before, there was even less reason to care about now. He remained silent. The car was terrifyingly quiet. “Subway station, get out,” he said. I opened my phone to check the time. “The subway’s not running now.” Twelve thirteen AM. “Can you call a taxi?” He pulled the car over to the side of the road, his voice laced with annoyance. “Get out.” He saw I hadn’t moved. “What? Can’t you understand me?” His tone was harsh, like a prelude to an explosion of anger. I met his dangerously intense gaze. He was waiting for me to back down. But I only wanted to challenge his limits even more. I smiled, my fingers lightly tapping on the comfortable window frame. “You get out,” I said. “What?” He didn’t react, turning to look at me, still with that impatient expression. “What? You don’t understand me?” I smiled back at him. He finally understood, his eyebrows furrowing. “What’s wrong with you—” He didn’t finish his sentence, putting on a look of not wanting to argue. “Stop messing around, get out. “I’ll reimburse you for the taxi,” he sighed faintly. I laughed. “You get out, I’ll reimburse *you* for the taxi.” That really pissed him off. “What are you doing?!” “Oh, you don’t know how to call a taxi yourself?” My voice was gentle. “Then I’ll call Mr. Chen to come pick you up, okay?” I made to call, but his large hand covered my phone. “What do you mean?” His breath brushed my ear. I leaned back slightly, pulling away from him. “We’re already divorced. If you want to wait for the right moment to tell your family, I can help you play along. “But that doesn’t mean I have to put up with your terrible temper anymore.” I shook my phone at him. “How many years have you used this trick of telling me to get out of the car?” He tried to snatch my phone, but I held it tightly. He stared deeply at me, as if recalling something, his grip leaving a red mark on my wrist. He snatched my phone, brushing past my ear, and slammed it against the car window. “Keep messing around if you dare.” Then he turned and got out of the car. I picked up my phone, moved into the driver’s seat, and drove off without looking back. I drove the car to Leo’s apartment’s underground garage. I turned to him. “What happened to your forehead?” He rubbed his forehead. “Nothing, just bumped it.” Ouch, his face is so handsome, it’d be a shame to scuff it. “Worried about me?” He leaned in closer. Seeing I didn’t speak, he asked again, “Where did you get the car?” I turned off the engine and handed him the car keys. “It’s yours.” He raised an eyebrow. “Got guts now? Where’d you steal it from?” I pressed the car keys into his hand, ready to get out. My wrist was suddenly grabbed. But he didn’t dare use force, afraid of hurting me. “What do you want?” I asked him. “Don’t you want to try?” “Try what?” “What do you think?” He smiled broadly, rubbing my wrist. The next morning, I was woken by my phone ringing. Muffled under the covers, I didn’t want to move. Didn’t want to go to work, didn’t want to get up. Leo got up, took the phone, and handed it to me. Then he pulled me into his arms, his warmth enveloping me. “Hello, who is this…” My voice was muffled from under the blankets. “Do you know there’s surveillance in my car?” That woke me up. I tried to push Leo away and get up, but his big arms and legs bundled me in, holding me down. I coughed abruptly, glancing at the caller ID. Blake Davis. Ugh. “I didn’t,” I cleared my throat. “Now you do,” the voice on the other end said. What kind of person is that? Installing surveillance in his own car. “Aria, can I drive you to work?” Leo drowsily leaned against the bathroom door frame, following me like a puppy. “You have morning classes,” I said, washing my face. “Hurry up and go to school.” Leo walked behind me, unable to open his eyes, just resting his head on my shoulder. “No, you’re heavy,” I nudged his head away. His hair was fluffy, truly like a dog’s. “Beep, beep, beep,” he murmured, his voice slightly deeper in the morning. “What are you doing?” I splashed warm water on his face. He rubbed against my neck. “Hold on, I need to recharge.” I pushed him away, exasperated. I grabbed my bag, ready to brave the subway. “Oh, right,” I said before leaving. “You can drive that car whenever you want, but there’s a camera inside. Find it and take it out.” “Camera?” He leaned against the door, seeing me off. “Aria, you really have a lot of tricks up your sleeve.” **Part Two** At eight PM, Julian returned to the country. S11 Club. Just before clocking out, I received a SnapChat from Blake. Read, then deleted. “Can’t find it.” Leo called me when I had just gotten back to my own apartment. “Can’t find what?” I asked, wedging the phone between my ear and shoulder as I changed shoes. “The camera,” Leo said, his voice laced with amusement. “Alright, Aria, are you messing with me?” I paused. “You really can’t find it?” “I’ve searched everywhere,” he said. Music was loud on his end, like someone was calling him. “Are you coming to see me tonight?” he asked. “No.” I hung up. My phone showed exactly eight PM. Time for my online class. I opened my TOEFL notes and began speaking English to my kind foreign teacher on the computer. “Why not?” Blake’s voice held no discernible emotion. “There’s no camera in your car,” I said, taking a sip of water, changing the subject. “Were you testing me?” “Why are you so guilty?” he asked me. “What do you care?” I countered. “I care?” His emotions finally showed some fluctuation. “You *want* me to care?” He’d stated a question as a declarative sentence. It was his usual blind self-confidence. The foreign teacher on the computer called my name, pointing to his watch, signaling that the break was over. “Are you seeing foreigners now?” Blake sneered. “Is this all you have left? “It won’t work,” he said. “When did you start English classes?” He looked displeased, the car stopped at a red light. Outside, the city night was cold under a fine, misty rain. “Six months ago,” I said, looking out the window. Blake’s profile was reflected in the glass. Half an hour ago, he’d appeared at my apartment door, wearing the same expression. Only angrier. “Why are you learning English?” he asked me. “Why are you at my apartment?” I asked him. He turned to look at me, his eyes carrying the unique mist of a cold night. The mist would spread, clinging to my skin in the confined space of the car. “Why do you think?” he said, his tone mocking. Green light, the car moved. His expression cleared, returning to his usual calm and restraint. Julian was still as youthful as ever. “Let’s wish CEO Sterling a happy thirty-third birthday!” As soon as I entered the private room, I heard people shouting inside. Julian looked over the crowd and saw me, and then he saw Blake standing behind me. “Well, CEO Sterling’s sister is here,” someone called out. I was pushed forward, facing him directly. He was wearing a cream-colored cashmere sweater. He raised his hand as if to place it on my head, his eyes briefly sweeping over Blake, then settling on my shoulder.

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I woke up and found myself the heroine of a brutal romance novel. The day I slashed my wrists, the male lead was picking up his idealized first love, Genevieve, who had just returned from overseas. He sneered, “Didn’t you say you’d put up with anything just to marry me? Can’t even handle something this trivial?” Genevieve purred, “He loves me. If you hadn’t threatened his mother’s life, he would never have been with you. It’s time to return what was mine.” His mother, Patricia, whose life I’d saved, coldly added, “Here’s your money back. Can you please just let my son go? It’s better for everyone if you two divorce.” But I wouldn’t leave him. Because he was about to die. I woke up lying in a bathtub. Blood was everywhere. My phone was on speaker, and Julian’s angry voice blasted from it: “I’m home. Where the hell are you? Is it fun constantly creating drama like this?” I hung up, dialed 911, and the next time I woke, I was in a hospital room. The doctor said, “Another five minutes, and we wouldn’t have been able to save you. Luckily, your will to live is strong.” “Yeah, I know.” I had transmigrated into a dark romance novel. The original heroine, Maya, had desperately loved Julian, but he never returned her feelings. His constant emotional abuse had left her with severe depression and strong suicidal tendencies. Tonight, Julian was throwing a lavish welcome-home party for his idealized first love, Genevieve. Maya, pushed to her breaking point, had felt she couldn’t take it anymore and called him to come home. He was the one who had ignored her desperate plea for help. Her life was supposed to end today. But not anymore. “Your phone kept ringing. The caller ID said ‘Husband.’ We notified your family, and he’s on his way.” “Doesn’t matter. How’s the baby?” Maya had been pregnant when she tried to kill herself. “The fetal heartbeat almost stopped, but fortunately, the baby’s will to live is as strong as yours. For now, it’s out of danger. The detailed report will be ready soon.” “Thank you.” A while later, Julian, impeccably dressed in a suit, pushed open the door. He took one look at my bandaged wrist and scowled, his handsome brows furrowed. “Playing this game again? Maya, you try to kill yourself every other day. Why aren’t you dead yet?” “You’re not dead, so I’m not in a hurry,” I calmly looked at him. “I’ll be sending you off first, Julian.” In the original novel, after Maya lost both her and the baby, Julian seemed to suddenly fall in love with her. He was filled with belated regret. All that belated, overflowing affection. A year later, Julian died of stomach cancer. A year. Not long. I could wait. Julian had never heard such venomous words from Maya. He froze for a second. “I just went to a reunion with an old friend. Is it really that big of a deal?” His “old friend” was his idealized first love, Genevieve. Of course, I didn’t care. “The desire to kill someone can’t be hidden. Whatever you do, I want you dead. It has little to do with who you meet or what you do.” Julian shook his head in disbelief. “Maya, are you crazy? Constantly talking about dying, but don’t drag others into it.” “What kind of talk is that? She’s a depression patient. And you keep saying ‘die.’ How is that any different from attempted murder?” The doctor scolded him, then softly said to me, “Here’s the report. The baby is fine. You two are incredibly lucky. Mother and child are both safe.” “You’re pregnant?” Julian was stunned, then his face turned cold. “I told you I didn’t want kids. I always used protection. What did you do to the condoms?” “The best birth control is not to do it at all. Don’t you know that basic fact? Or are you saying I deliberately forced myself on you? If so, go call the police. Accuse me of marital rape.” Maya had always been a gentle, quiet woman. This was the first time Julian had seen her so sharp-tongued. He was so furious he could barely speak. “…You’re being unreasonable.” “Men who are terrible at arguing are boring. They’re useless beyond a pretty face, just annoying.” I pulled the covers over me and went to sleep, wondering what Maya ever saw in him. Julian stared at my back. His phone rang, and I faintly heard Genevieve’s voice: “…Julian, I’m drunk. I don’t know how to get to the hotel…” Julian glanced at me. “It’s not a good time tonight.” “It is. Go on, get lost,” I interjected. Julian was supposed to be with Genevieve tonight anyway. And Maya was supposed to bleed out, slowly. “Haven’t you made enough of a scene?” Julian’s voice was always laced with annoyance when he spoke to me. “You’re truly impossible to please. When I clung to you, you found me disgusting. Now that I don’t want to see you, you stick to me like superglue. What, have you fallen for me?” Julian glared at me, then stormed out, slamming the door. A moment later, he brought in a bedside chair, set it next to me, and lay down without a word.

I stayed in the hospital for a while, and Julian remained stone-faced during his visits. One day, I went for a psychological therapy session. My attending physician, Dr. Alex Thorne, spoke with me for a bit, then asked me to undergo a full battery of organic lesion tests and a new psychological evaluation. He looked at my reports as if he’d witnessed a medical miracle. “Your depression… it’s completely cured. Both your psychological assessment and test results are perfectly healthy.” “Depression often begins when a patient becomes overly fixated on a single goal, leading to narrowed focus, accumulated frustrations, and eventually self-attack and self-loathing. I used to love Julian, and my eyes were only on him. When he didn’t love me back, I felt worthless. Now that I’ve let go, my life force has naturally begun to flow again.” Dr. Thorne smiled and shook my hand. “Congratulations. I say that as a friend.” Dr. Thorne was the only one who truly cared about Maya. He had witnessed how this poor woman had sunk deep into the mire of love. All her efforts had been for naught. The most sincere emotions, had brought nothing but pain. “So, what are you going to do now? Divorce him?” “No,” I curled my lips into a smile. “He is a CEO, after all.” When he dies, the company will be mine. Why would I divorce him?

The day I returned home, Julian said he was busy and didn’t come to pick me up. Instead, I received a text from an unknown number. It was a picture of Julian. His eyes were slightly glazed, and he smiled gently at the camera, two buttons of his shirt undone, revealing his sculpted collarbone. Maya had never seen him look like that. But I was completely unfazed. I forwarded it to my lawyer, asking him to archive it. I had just stepped inside when I heard the lock click open again. It wasn’t Julian who entered, but his idealized first love, Genevieve. “All these years, his door code has remained my birthday, Maya. What makes you think you can compete with me?” She looked at me with the arrogant disdain of someone who felt deeply cherished. “Does playing doorman for us make you happy?” Genevieve never expected me to hit back: “Genevieve, if I hadn’t gone abroad to study five years ago, none of this would have happened. You see, the moment I came back, Julian couldn’t wait to see me. If you had any self-awareness, you’d pack your bags and leave immediately.” I dropped two lemon slices into a glass of warm water. “If I recall correctly, Ms. Genevieve, you went to New York? That’s not exactly far, a 25-hour flight. Why did it end up like a parting of the ways for eternity, forcing you to break up?” “Five years, 1800 days, 43,800 hours. He wouldn’t even spend 25 hours on you, never once visited you in America. How dare you believe he loves you? Were you being manipulated by him?” Genevieve froze for a second. “Julian couldn’t afford a plane ticket back then! If he had money, would he have let you leverage his mom’s life to force him to marry you?” “So you knew Julian was a guy who couldn’t even afford a twenty-five hundred dollar plane ticket five years ago? A man who clawed his way up from nothing?” I turned, holding my glass. “Now that he’s the CEO of Sterling Group, you’re telling me to get lost? Heh, you’re trying to commit grand theft in broad daylight!” As soon as the words left my mouth, police sirens wailed outside. Genevieve frowned. “You called the cops?” I raised my glass to her. “Any normal person calls the police when they’re being robbed. Just so you know.” As she was being led away by the police, she was still yelling, “Let’s see what charge you can pin on me!”

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Eighteen years old, I accidentally killed a privileged jerk to protect Vanessa Thorne. But she took a bribe from his family and gave false testimony in court. My self-defense became intentional murder… I was sentenced to death. After I died, she went to my mother, knelt, and swore she was sorry. She begged my mom to adopt her as a goddaughter, promising to take care of her in her old age. In the end, she conned my family out of all our assets and ran off with some guy. And my mom? Because I was a death row inmate, she lived a life of discrimination, looked down upon, poor, sick, and died heartbroken. Then I opened my eyes again— I was back to that evening, the day she invited me to the small alley on South Street. “Alex Reed, are you coming or not?” Vanessa Thorne’s voice drifted into my ears. Clear and sweet. I fought hard to control the rage boiling inside me. How *dare* this conniving bitch show her face to me again? Wait, what?! Where was I? School? Besides Vanessa’s voice, I heard the noisy laughter and shouts of my classmates. The sound of reading from the next classroom, echoing clearly. The setting sun, a cascade of golden light, spilled across the school windows. I double-checked, triple-checked. I was back. Reborn to my senior year, the blackboard at the back of the classroom read: “99 days left until college entrance exams.” Back to square one, like a reset button on my life! “Alex Reed, if you don’t come, I’ll just ask Cole Miller instead,” Vanessa said, a hint of challenge in her gaze, pouting. Her unzipped school uniform revealed a tight top that clung to her curves, a clear invitation for hungry eyes. In my past life, I was absolutely obsessed with her, just like this. Now, in my eyes, she was nothing more than a piece of rotten, decaying flesh. “I’m not going,” I stated, my voice firm. As I spoke, I stuffed my remaining textbooks into my backpack. I glanced at the classroom, both strangely unfamiliar and intimately known, then turned to leave. Vanessa blocked my way again. “Alex Reed, what’s your deal?” she demanded loudly. “I got bullied, and you’re just going to ignore it? “I’m telling you, if you don’t come today, we’re breaking up.” I stopped, my face cold. “We never even started, so what are you breaking up from?” Vanessa’s mom and my mom were classmates, best friends… In my past life, I naturally believed that too. But after I died, what Vanessa and her mom did made me realize I’d completely misplaced my trust. And my mom had simply picked a fake bestie. Vanessa, knowing I was infatuated with her, manipulated me again and again. Cole Miller was the school bully, and he’d harassed Vanessa several times. I’d been furious about it. But Vanessa didn’t see it that way. She even told me that a guy liking her meant she was desirable. “Vanessa Thorne, whether you ask Cole Miller or any other guy, it has nothing to do with me.” With that, I walked around her and headed out of the classroom. The sky was blue, the air fresh. Freedom. It felt so good. “Coward!” Vanessa’s sneering voice came from behind me. “Alex Reed, I dare you to never step foot in my house again!” “Fine!” I turned, my voice calm and icy.

As I wheeled my bike out of the bike shed, I saw Cole Miller with his arm around Vanessa’s waist. He was with a couple of his buddies, bouncing his leg as he spoke to me. “Alex Reed, from now on, Vanessa’s my girl. You spineless loser, stay away from her. Otherwise, I’ll beat you up every time I see you.” I scoffed internally. Let’s see if Cole Miller even makes it back from that South Street alley tonight. Then we can talk about “from now on.” In my past life, at eighteen, I was just a hot-headed kid, full of reckless youth. I didn’t understand anything. It wasn’t until I accidentally killed Brandon Hayes, the rich kid, that I learned Vanessa had been deeply entangled with him from Westridge High. She’d spent tens of thousands of his money, all on eating out and having fun. For a high school student, that was a hefty sum. Brandon wanted to take things further, but she actually told him she had a boyfriend. And I was that unlucky “boyfriend” she mentioned. She played both of us, infuriating Brandon and making me mad too. So, in my past life, in that South Street alley, I accidentally killed Brandon. This life, let her take Cole Miller there. “Cole, don’t worry, I’ll stay far, far away from her from now on,” I said with a smile. “And please, keep a close eye on her. Don’t let her bother me. “Also, maybe ask her if she has any *other* boyfriends?” As expected, the moment I said that, Vanessa completely blew up. She pointed at my face and yelled, “Alex Reed, what is that supposed to mean?! “It’s bad enough you’re a coward, but now you’re slandering me? “I only hung out with you because we grew up together. “And you? Cole Miller tries to ask me out, and you throw a tantrum, even threatening to take back our house?! “Are you trying to make it obvious that my family’s broke and we’re renting your place? “Are you serious with this?” With that, she squatted on the ground, sobbing pitifully. Right. I had indeed once said I’d tell my mom to take back the house we rented to Vanessa’s family. After all, they’d lived there for five years without paying a dime of rent. And they’d privately torn down a wall, a load-bearing wall, without my family’s permission. The HOA had complained to my mom multiple times. Given all that, I’d once suggested to my mom, “Maybe we should take the house back. “We don’t need to rent it out anymore. Anyway, the Thornes never paid rent.” Now, in Vanessa’s mouth, this had become my excuse to manipulate her? Cole saw her crying and immediately looked pained. He rushed to help her up, loudly announcing, “My sweet Vanessa, I’ll rent you another place myself…” I couldn’t care less about what happened next. I pushed my bike and left.

That evening, I heard that a massive fight had broken out between guys from Westridge High and Central High in the small alley on South Street. A guy from Central High, Cole Miller, had used a switchblade and stabbed Brandon Hayes in the abdomen. Just like in my past life. The knife was Vanessa’s; she had given it to Cole. What was slightly different from my past life was that after it happened, Vanessa grabbed Cole and tried to run. But Cole, who’d been fighting his whole life, knew better. He didn’t run. He immediately called 911, then emergency services. The next morning when I got to school, everyone was talking about it. Cole wasn’t in class, and neither was Vanessa. I heard they were both at the police station. I didn’t pay too much attention, just focused on my practice problems. In my past life, during college entrance exams, I was in prison. My first trial verdict had already come down—death sentence. I was terrified. My mom sold our house and company to appeal. Days in prison felt like years. When I saw the news about the college entrance exams on TV, I cried… That afternoon after class, I was putting away my English textbook to return it to the teacher’s office. I accidentally noticed student files on Ms. Albright’s desk. I quickly flipped to Cole Miller’s and saw his birth date. Cole was two months younger than me. Also, the biggest change this life was that Brandon Hayes hadn’t died. I suddenly realized that by refusing Vanessa’s invitation to the South Street alley, the butterfly effect had taken hold, and things were unfolding differently than I’d expected. Brandon not dying meant he’d keep bothering Vanessa. After all, he’d spent tens of thousands on a girl. Now, the girl had gotten someone to stab him? Anyone would be pissed. Cole Miller wasn’t me. I was just a regular student, educated, sensible, and though I admired Vanessa, I respected her. But Cole Miller was the school bully. When he said he admired Vanessa, most likely, he was just after one thing. Now, he’d stabbed Brandon because of her? Vanessa surely had to show some appreciation, right? I settled in, ready for the drama to unfold. But I never in my wildest dreams imagined that after school, Vanessa would stop me right at the school gates. “Something wrong?” I asked calmly. “Alex Reed, lend me one hundred and fifty thousand dollars,” Vanessa stated directly. Seeing I didn’t respond, she seemed to make a desperate decision. “Your mom’s not home tonight, is she? I’ll come to your place.” “You don’t know what you’re saying,” I shook my head. “You’re a grown woman now, what are you doing coming to my place this late, especially when my mom’s not home?” Vanessa stomped her foot. She was still just a student, and a bit shy. But she still said, “Alex Reed, do you really want me to spell it out? Do you need me to write it down? “Lend me one hundred and fifty thousand, and tonight… I’ll be yours.”

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Chloe and I fell in love. She was gentle and caring, incredibly devoted to me. Soon, we moved in together. One night, I was deep in sleep when a faint sound of running water woke me. I turned over and saw the bathroom light on in our bedroom. *Must be her*, I thought, and drifted back to sleep. But quickly, a cold sweat drenched me. *Why would a blind person turn on the light to use the bathroom at night…?* I lay still, my back to the bathroom, deliberately slowing my breathing. My heart hammered faster and faster. “Click.” It was the sound of the light switch. I felt her slide back into bed, wrapping her arms around me from behind. Her light breath brushed my neck, chillingly cold. The next morning, I was still reeling from the strange incident last night. She sat across from me, eating breakfast. There was no way she could see. I had seen her eyes before; they were like an ink wash painting, the black swirled within the iris as if bleeding in water, incredibly surreal. But why did she turn on the light last night? My mind heavy with worry, I needed to get out and clear my head. I wolfed down a few bites of toast, and even though it was early, I muttered something about being late and headed for the door. Just as I turned to leave, I thought I saw her glance up towards the wall clock. *A blind person… needs to check the time?* A day of frantic work left me exhausted, body and mind. After much thought, I figured I was just overthinking things. Maybe I was still getting used to living with a blind girl. Things would surely get better after we’d lived together for a while. I drove to Chloe’s workplace to pick her up. It was a music studio, where she taught the pipa. She was already packed up, waiting for me by the door. I walked over, took her hand, and she smiled knowingly. No words were needed between us; we understood each other. I took her bag, helped her into the back seat, placed her bag next to her, and carefully buckled her seatbelt. She always sat in the back; the spaciousness made it easier for her. The car passed an intersection when a child on a bike suddenly darted out. I slammed on the brakes, swerving the steering wheel hard. The car spun in a circle on the road. Thankfully, I didn’t hit the mischievous kid. She asked what happened. I said it was nothing, just a kid who popped out at the intersection. It was fine now. As we continued driving home, I saw her through the rearview mirror bending down. She picked up a small hair clip and put it into her bag. It must have fallen out when I braked suddenly. *But how did she know the hair clip had fallen out?* After dinner, I took her hand, and we walked to the park downstairs. This was something she loved to do, something she loved doing with me by her side. The park was lively, with many kids practicing rollerblading and elderly people dancing. She didn’t talk much, and I quietly held her hand. Her long, waterfall-like black hair gave off a faint, sweet scent. Ahead, a little girl on rollerblades stumbled and plunged headfirst into the roadside bushes, only her small legs flailing wildly. I was about to tell Chloe about the comical sight, but when I turned to face her, I saw a faint smile on her face. Not her usual gentle smile, but the kind of suppressed amusement when someone sees something truly funny. A growing unease settled in. Was this gentle, beautiful woman truly blind? Everything felt so strange, so illogical. Should I ask her directly? But would that make her think I was crazy? Girls like her often lacked a sense of security; would it hurt her? During lunch break, I told Liam, my best friend, about some of the strange things that had been happening. Liam found it hard to believe too. “If what you’re saying is true, she’s definitely got issues,” Liam said. “But why would she pretend to be blind and get close to me?” I asked. “First, we need solid proof that she’s faking, not truly blind,” Liam stated, confident in his words. “That’s hard. I don’t want to hurt her. What should I do?” I was caught in a dilemma. Finally, Liam offered a plan: First, I’d tell Chloe I had something to do that evening and couldn’t pick her up, so she should take a cab home. Later, Liam and I would go home together. Liam would go inside, and I’d wait outside. If she was truly blind, she’d just assume it was me coming home. Liam wouldn’t speak, so she wouldn’t notice anything unusual. If everything was normal, Liam would quietly slip out, and I’d go in, acting as if nothing happened. But if she was faking, and saw a strange man in the house, she’d surely be startled, revealing her deception. Then I’d rush in and demand the truth. “That’s a masterstroke, absolutely brilliant!” I exclaimed. The sky had already darkened, a blue shroud covering the earth. Liam and I exchanged glances in the hallway. Liam took out the keys, unlocked the door, and entered my apartment. The hallway was eerily silent. After the motion-sensor lights flickered off, only the dim blue light from outside the window illuminated everything before me. I anxiously clutched my phone, waiting for the results of the test. Three minutes later, the door opened, and Liam stepped out. “No one’s home,” Liam said. I quickly grabbed my phone and called Chloe. Chloe said it was too boring at home by herself, so she was sitting in the small park downstairs, getting some fresh air and waiting for me to get off work. My heart warmed. I deeply understood how important I was to this seemingly blind girl. Since I had chosen to be with her, it was natural that I would be her lifelong support. Liam and I went downstairs together. In the small park, we saw Chloe sitting on a bench, her simple white dress strikingly bright in the dim night. I said goodbye to Liam and walked over to sit beside Chloe. Hearing my voice, she naturally leaned her head on my shoulder. I squeezed her hand tightly. How could anyone not adore a girl like her? After sitting in the park for a while, I took her hand, and we walked back home. As we walked on the gravel path in the complex, a figure suddenly darted out of the greenery ahead. In the dim light, I couldn’t make out their face. As we got a little closer, I realized it was Liam! He hadn’t left after all. He gave me a shushing gesture, signaling me not to show any alarm. I said nothing more, just continued walking forward, holding Chloe’s hand. Liam stood directly in Chloe’s path ahead. If she didn’t dodge, she would collide right into him. Under the cover of night, our footsteps were remarkably clear. The early autumn breeze was refreshing, but it couldn’t wipe away the fine sweat on my forehead. Just as Chloe was about to collide with Liam, he swiftly stepped aside. Nothing happened. I dared not show any reaction, only glancing back. Liam made a phone gesture at me, then turned and left. After we got home, I made a simple dinner. Our life together was peaceful yet happy. She lay sleeping soundly on my arm, her soft snores carrying a hint of a woman’s unique charm. I remembered Liam’s departure and picked up my phone. The faint glow of the screen was a bit harsh. I opened the message Liam had sent; it only had two words: *Something’s wrong.* *What’s wrong?* I texted back. Soon, Liam’s reply came: *Can’t explain it. Talk tomorrow. Stay safe.* With that, Liam’s profile picture turned gray. He was offline. I put my phone down, and suddenly realized: Chloe’s soft snores in my arms had stopped. The phone’s light vanishing left me briefly blind in the darkness. I couldn’t make out Chloe’s face, wondering if, in the pitch black, she was now watching me… Soon, my eyes adjusted. Her eyes were tightly closed, and she was no longer snoring, her breathing even, her face serene. The next day, I arrived at work early. Liam was already waiting at my desk. “You said something was wrong last night. What was it?” I asked. Liam explained that he had lived with his grandmother in a senior community for a while, and many residents there, including his grandmother, were blind. He knew what it felt like to be around blind people—it was a deep, intuitive understanding that permeated every detail of life, almost like a subtle energy field. But yesterday, with Chloe, he hadn’t felt that sense, even though she genuinely appeared to be blind. I couldn’t quite grasp what he meant. I just chuckled and said maybe young people were different from old people. Liam didn’t seem convinced. He suggested inviting Chloe and me out for dinner, so he could observe her more closely. I agreed, but reminded him, “Don’t hurt her, and don’t go too far.” All day, I couldn’t focus on work. All sorts of thoughts swirled in my mind. Was she truly blind or not? If not, how could I explain her strange actions? If she was, why would she pretend to be blind? Did she see the message on my phone last night? But she hadn’t harmed me. What did she want? Liam had reserved a table at a boat restaurant on Lake Serenity. Such a fancy place was beyond my expectations. As I led Chloe onto the boat, the slight rocking of the gangplank on the water made her nervous. Once aboard, she clung tightly to my hand. I instinctively put my arm around her, comforting her softly. Entering the main hall, elegant orchestral music echoed around us. The hall was lively; this restaurant was packed every night. I inquired about our table with the hostess. As I turned, I noticed Chloe, standing beside me, was facing directly towards Liam’s table. *Had she recognized Liam? Recognized him as the one who tried to test her in the apartment complex?* Liam, however, showed no signs of alarm. Throughout dinner, his humorous conversation kept Chloe giggling. The harmonious atmosphere made me relax quite a bit. A server brought over three drinks. Liam thoughtfully took them and placed them in front of each of us. Chloe fumbled to pick up her glass, taking a small sip.

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On the day of my wedding to Dominic Thorne, he called the police and personally sent me to prison. Three years later, he personally came to pick me up. He stood before me, his voice coiling around my ears like a malevolent ghost: “Anya Vance, how was your time inside?” My whole body trembled, and I didn’t dare look up. Until he slowly crept closer, his body brushing mine like a phantom: “Don’t rush. It’s not over yet!” Later, I endured his endless torment until I was diagnosed with a terminal illness, collapsing in a pool of blood, taking my last breath. But Dominic, the man who had sought to destroy me, clung to me like a madman, sobbing, “Anya, I was wrong. Can you please look at me again?” The day I was released, a heavy snow fell across the city. The moment the iron gate creaked open, a bone-chilling wind howled, and I wrapped my arms tightly around myself, the warmth quickly stolen from my body. I stumbled out, my steps unsteady, the surroundings utterly silent, save for the soft whisper of falling snowflakes. Standing by the gate, all I saw was a blanket of pristine white. Behind me, the prison guard’s voice faded in and out, barely audible, only Dominic Thorne’s name reaching my ears in a blur. Dominic Thorne… Dominic Thorne… I mumbled his name under my breath, my steps faltering as I instinctively veered to the right. And then, I unexpectedly collided with a cold, hard chest. A dull ache flared on my forehead. I tapped it, then looked up, instantly meeting a familiar face. It was too clear, and my mind went blank for a second. I rubbed my eyes, but he was still there. The guard’s words, spoken just moments ago, suddenly pieced together in my mind. “Anya Vance, just stay by the gate and don’t leave. Mr. Dominic Thorne will come to pick you up.” Dominic Thorne. It was him! The man who had personally sent me to prison three years ago now stood before me again. My body trembled. I dared not make another move. I was terrified he would kick me to the ground like he did three years ago, then drag me straight back to hell. The prison was behind me. I couldn’t go back inside. Dominic seemed satisfied with my terrified reaction. I stood in the snow, dressed in a thin jacket, frozen stiff. Dominic had been staring at me for so long that my limbs were numb and my entire body was shaking. But I still didn’t dare move. After a long silence, Dominic seemed to lose his patience and finally spoke. “Anya Vance, how was your time inside?” He stood before me, his voice, like a malevolent spirit, coiled around my ears. My whole body trembled, and I didn’t dare look up. For three years, that voice had haunted my nightmares every single day, impossible to shake off. I tried my best to curl myself up, to minimize my presence in front of Dominic, hoping he would lose interest and just let me go. Until he slowly crept closer, his body brushing mine like a phantom: “Don’t rush. It’s not over yet!” That single, airy sentence almost made me collapse onto the ground.

Like a puppet, I was lifted by Dominic into the car and taken back to his mansion. I had thought about hiding, about escaping, but looking into Dominic’s terrifying eyes, and remembering my three years inside, I knew that no matter how deep I hid or how far I ran, I probably couldn’t escape his grasp. Besides, I still had my family. Dominic was ruthless. If I truly escaped, my family would suffer the consequences. Numbly, I followed Dominic into the Thorne residence. It was a place I once knew so intimately, but now it made me flinch and hang back. All the maids and housekeepers at the Thorne residence were new faces. Of course. After what happened three years ago, they had stood by me and spoken up for me. Dominic, incandescent with rage, had fired them all long ago. Clutching the corner of my jacket, I cowered by the entrance, like a starving beggar. Dominic paused while changing his shoes, scrutinizing me with a peculiar gaze. As if remembering something, he suddenly pulled me close. “Anya Vance, get my shoes.” I recalled saying those very words to him once. But back then, our relationship was good. Mostly, I’d tease, and he’d just smile. I didn’t dare disobey. I bent down, half-kneeling on the floor, took out his slippers, and put them on him. Dominic scoffed softly, then paid me no mind, going straight to the living room sofa. I hesitated for a few seconds, then changed into the housekeeper’s slippers and followed him in. An older maid came forward to ask him how he wanted me arranged. Dominic shot a disdainful glance my way. “Whatever.” It was like casually discarding a trifle he didn’t care about. I clenched my fists, but still gathered my courage, stuttering, “Mr. Dominic… when can I leave here?” As if he’d heard a joke, Dominic suddenly stood up, looking down on me. “You want to leave?” “I told you, don’t rush!” “Anya Vance, you don’t actually think I’m joking, do you?” I looked up, meeting his cold eyes. For a moment, I suddenly wanted to explain what happened three years ago all over again. The words I was about to say were abruptly cut off by a sweet, gentle female voice. “Dominic, you’re back.”

That voice was too familiar. I said nothing more, looking up towards the stairs. Willow Shaw now looked radiant with happiness, a stark contrast to the timid girl she used to be. I watched her, carefully holding the banister as she stepped slowly, one step at a time, towards Dominic. As if she were the lady of the house, she feigned surprise: “Dominic, who is this?” Though her tone was soft, her eyes stared at me like a venomous snake. A wave of terror washed over me, and I stood frozen to the spot, chilled to the bone. After Dominic sent me to prison three years ago, she would come to visit me. Each time she left, I would face even harsher retaliation. I was kicked so hard that three of my ribs broke. As I lay on the ground, bloody and barely clinging to life, the triumphant voices of those thugs echoed in my ears: “You deserve to die, you bitch! How dare you steal from others?!” “Pah! Look at yourself, you trash!” Later, Dominic had those people send another message. “Stay there and reflect. Don’t make it easy for her.” Those painful memories felt like yesterday; the scabs on my body throbbed faintly. I tugged hard at my sleeve, and cold sweat beaded on my forehead. Dominic’s gaze was entirely on Willow, his voice gentle and considerate as he asked, “Why are you down here? Shouldn’t you rest a bit longer?” They were too intimate in front of me. I had expected to care, to feel pain, but after three years, I no longer craved Dominic’s attention. I cowered to the side, my mind a blur. The maid came over to ask Dominic about me. She glanced at Dominic and Willow, then cautiously asked, “Mr. Thorne, everything is ready. This young lady…” My face was ghostly pale. I almost collapsed, but the maid beside me steadied me. Dominic’s face instantly darkened, his tone angry: “Take her. No special treatment!” Dominic emphasized those last few words heavily. I forced myself to stay upright, circled around him, and followed the maid out. Willow seemed to be waiting deliberately, staring at me with a hateful gaze. “Anya Vance, how dare you show your face here!” I never understood why she harbored such intense animosity towards me. Our relationship hadn’t been that bad before. Until she approached me in the darkness and threatened: “You’d better behave yourself and not get any ideas. Otherwise, I don’t know what worse things Dominic will do to you because of our child!”

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My father was a grifter. Out of 365 days a year, I was lucky to see him for 65. The rest of the time, he was darting between casinos. During the rare times we spent together, my father taught me a lot about the art of cheating. I learned quickly and mastered the techniques, but he always warned me: I could learn all the tricks, but I could never use them. If he ever found out I stepped foot in a casino, he’d break my legs. Life went on like that. Until that night. A frantic knock at the door startled me awake. When I opened it, the first thing I smelled was blood. Several burly men dragged a man covered in blood, dumping him at our doorstep. The man, drenched in crimson, his right hand severed, was my father! 0I couldn’t reconcile the man before me, covered in blood, his face swollen beyond recognition, with my once dashing and charming father. I froze, feeling as if all strength had been drained from my body by an unseen hand. My mother had passed away early, and in my father’s absence, it had always been just my younger brother, Finn, and me, relying on each other. Now, seeing our father drenched in blood, Finn and I were both completely panicked. My father was rushed into the ER. The doctor, stone-faced, presented the bill and told me to pay. “Three thousand dollars for the surgery, not a penny less, or we can’t proceed. If you want him to live, pay up.” But where was I supposed to find three thousand dollars? Mom was gone… if Dad died too, our family would fall apart. I glanced at Finn. He’d just stumbled at a crucial point in his life, unsure of his future. Expecting him to produce that much money was absurd. I stood by the hospital window, feeling desperate and helpless. Through the glass, I saw a bright neon sign hanging on the building across the street. It read: Card Room. Those two words felt like a mystic master, pointing the way. As if they were telling me, *Come on in.* *Step inside, and you’ll have the money to save your father.* The words “Card Room” seemed to possess an immense magic, pulling me in, as if all I had to do was walk through the door… and I’d have the cash to save Dad. I handed Finn my savings book, which held a few hundred dollars, and told him to handle things at the hospital for now. “I’ll figure out the rest of the money. If the doctors ask, tell them I’ll have it by tomorrow morning.” Clutching the last few hundred dollars I had, I quickly walked into that card room. Inside, cigarette smoke hung thick in the air. People sat at card tables like zombies, their eyes hollow, as if their souls had been sucked out. “A haze of smoke and raw despair” was the perfect description for this place. I stood near the door, observing carefully, finally settling my gaze on a table in the corner. They were two players short, needing a third for a fast-paced card game. The minimum bet was fifty dollars, the maximum two hundred. This was within my budget. I pulled up a chair and sat between the two players. I looked them over: one with a round face, the other with messy, instant-noodle hair. Both had dark circles under their sunken eyes. They were clearly seasoned gamblers, regulars here. I nonchalantly pulled out a cigarette and put it in my mouth, feigning ease. Rocky, the round-faced one, was the dealer. Spike, with the messy hair, was my downstream player. I was caught in the middle, like prey between two predators. We started placing our bets. The first hand began. We each held sixteen cards. The first one out took all the money from the last one remaining. The second one out broke even. So, whoever was last lost the most. 0

Three gamblers, including myself, sat around the cramped card table. Since we were playing a fast-paced game, two Kings, three 2s, and one Ace were removed from the deck. Each player received sixteen cards. The card combinations included singles, pairs, three-of-a-kind with a kicker, four-of-a-kind with two kickers, straights (like a “plane with wings”), and four-card bombs. Among all cards, three Aces were the highest, able to beat any combination. Among single cards, the 2 was the highest. Among four-card sets, the King was the highest. Whoever held the 3 of Spades led the first hand. While drawing cards, I meticulously watched Rocky’s hands. I was absolutely certain he’d get the lead. As he shuffled, he’d subtly hooked a card with his pinky finger. Though he was quick, it didn’t escape my notice. Sure enough, Rocky chuckled. He tossed out a 3 of Spades. I was next. I played a 5. Then it was Spike’s turn. He did something completely unexpected: he slammed down a King. I noticed Rocky’s brow furrow. He couldn’t help but curse. “A 5, and you waste a King on it? What a needless sacrifice of a strong card!” With that King played, no one could top it. The lead passed to Spike. In that brief hand, I saw it: Spike and Rocky were putting on a show for me. The more they acted, the more I felt something was off. My father once told me that in this world, whether it’s Pai Gow, Mahjong, or Poker, Ultimately, you’re playing against people. For a grifter, technique always comes second. First is reading people. But you can’t truly see into a person’s heart; you can only rely on your gut. When you feel like the people at the table are trying to trick you, Trust your instincts. I glanced at my hand; my cards weren’t great. That’s why I needed to seize the lead, to buy myself time to think. I had to find a way to prolong this hand. The longer it lasted, the more likely Rocky and Spike were to slip up. In this world, no cheating technique is foolproof. If you cheat, you will eventually be found out. The only way not to lose is not to gamble at all. From the moment I sat down at that table, Rocky and I, only one of us was walking out of this card room intact. So, when Spike threw out a pair of 5s, I slammed down a pair of Kings. Rocky hissed, like he had a toothache. He licked his dry lips and squeezed out a single phrase from between his teeth: “Can’t beat it.” Spike also shook his head, letting me lead. After gaining the lead, I immediately played a pair of 5s, discarding my weak cards. Rocky then played a pair of 7s. Spike waved his hand, couldn’t beat it. I played a pair of 10s. While Rocky was thinking, I quickly started recalling the cards still in play. No Aces. No 2s. Now, I was certain Rocky and Spike were working together to cheat. That meant 80% of the high cards were in Rocky’s hand. When he dealt the cards, he must have swapped them. In grifter’s slang, that’s called “card-switching” or “palming”—stealing crucial cards during the deal, then restoring the deck. This technique only works in small card rooms like this. In larger casinos, with hidden cameras and surveillance everywhere, such methods are impossible to pull off. If the hidden cameras caught you in a big casino, they’d chop you to bits. Breaking such a cheat isn’t impossible, though. I needed to take a gamble… But if I lost… I might end up just like my father. 0

The best way to counter a cheat is to crush them with a superior technique. I pretended to pick up my lighter and light the cigarette in my mouth. While I was taking a drag, I watched Rocky. During that time, he made no small movements, just impatiently tapped the table, urging me to play faster. My role right now was the prey. I needed to wait for Rocky, the hunter, to make a mistake, then devour him whole, leaving not a single bone. It looked like a simple card game, but the fate of all three of us was tied to this table. I couldn’t afford to be careless, not for a second. After gaining the lead, I thought for a full thirty seconds, then threw out a three-of-a-kind with a pair. Seeing me play such a hand, Spike couldn’t help but make a clicking sound, seemingly displeased with my move. I leaned back in my chair, the nearly burnt-out cigarette dangling from my lips, and mimicking Rocky, tapped the table, signaling him to make a decision quickly. “Can’t beat it. Your turn.” I instinctively touched my nose, then played a seven-card straight (3-4-5-6-7-8-9). Now I had five cards left: two 6s, two Js, and a single 5. Rocky shook his head, didn’t play, passing the lead to Spike. I knew Rocky was intentionally letting me play. He hadn’t intended to take the lead in this hand; he wanted to lure me deeper. He would make me believe his hand was weak, then, when I had only one card left, he’d sweep the whole game. A true grifter plays the long game, baiting big fish, letting you nibble at the hook bit by bit until you’re deeply ensnared and can’t escape. Of course, a grifter must never be greedy; no greed, no mistakes. I wasn’t greedy, and neither was Rocky. He was a tough opponent. One wrong move, and I’d be utterly crushed. Compared to him, Spike seemed very one-dimensional. He was more like an automated machine. Looking at it that way, the situation became clear. Rocky was the brain; Spike was the hand. They were teaming up to fleece me like a fat pig. The cards in the deck, Rocky and Spike could manipulate through their methods, turning them into any card they desired. This was the grifter’s craft. With a teammate’s cooperation, it was almost unstoppable. If they continued working together, I would definitely lose. But I couldn’t lose!

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In my last life, my parents gave me a choice: pick a husband from the city’s three most powerful families for a strategic alliance. Without a moment’s hesitation, I chose Liam Sterling, the man I believed I loved most. But on our wedding day, he died in a car crash on the way to pick me up. The Sterlings were shattered, crying their hearts out. They never dared to say anything to my family, but I was consumed by guilt. I unconditionally transferred all my assets and shares to them. It wasn’t until twenty years later, during a business trip abroad, that I saw him. He was passionately kissing my former bridesmaid, Chloe Miller, right there on the street. The heirs from the other two powerful families, Brandon Hayes and Noah Collins, were there too, looking on with envy. “Twenty years of faking his death, and he found his one true love. Not a bad deal,” Brandon chuckled. “And that tired old hag, Aria Thorne, actually stayed loyal to him for twenty years. What a joke!” Noah added, laughing. I lunged forward in a rage to confront them, but Liam had eight men grab me and drag me into a pickup truck, where I was humiliated. He smirked, his face twisted in a cruel grin. “You just *had* to choose me back then, didn’t you? It led to Chloe getting drunk and being assaulted by eight men!” “Since you came looking for trouble, I’ll make sure you get a taste of what it’s like to wish you were dead!” When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day my parents told me to pick a husband. I pointed to the tall figure standing quietly in the corner, the nanny’s son. “Him,” I declared.

My parents froze for a moment, then stood up, their faces etched with disbelief. “Aria, what kind of joke is this?!” I calmly replied, “No joke at all. I want Julian Vance.” My gaze settled on the tall, handsome man in the corner, and my heart inexplicably skipped a beat. In my previous life, after Liam’s fake death left me utterly heartbroken, it was Julian who slowly helped me pick myself back up. He stayed by my side my entire life, until the moment I died. Through a blurry haze, I saw him holding me, sobbing uncontrollably. It was only then that I realized he had loved me all those years. “Aria!” My father urged, his voice hushed and urgent. “Didn’t you always say you liked Liam Sterling the most? And even if not him, there’s always the Hayes and Collins families!” “You grew up with all three of them; you know each other inside and out.” “Besides, Julian Vance is just a nanny’s son. What can he offer you?” My mother was almost in tears. “You’re my only daughter! How can I stand by and watch you marry someone like that and struggle?” I smiled, leaned in, and whispered a few words into their ears. Their expressions instantly solidified. My father’s voice trembled slightly. “Is that… really true?” I nodded firmly. My parents exchanged a look, finally sighing in relief. “Alright then, in three days, your wedding will be hosted by the Thorne family.” Once that was settled, I turned, took Julian Vance’s wrist, and pulled him along. “Come on, let’s get you some suits.” He looked confused but just smiled foolishly, letting me drag him. The moment we stepped into an upscale boutique, I immediately spotted the three men circling Chloe Miller. Liam was helping her try on a diamond necklace, Brandon was kneeling to tie her shoelace, and Noah was holding a huge bouquet of roses. The instant Chloe saw me, she feigned panic, quickly hiding behind Liam. Her voice was soft and innocent, tears welling in her eyes. “Oh, Miss Thorne, please don’t misunderstand. I really didn’t intentionally try to keep Mr. Sterling from going home and marrying you.” Liam pulled her into his arms, then looked up at me, his voice cold. “Aria Thorne, I’ve already told my family I won’t be marrying you.” “In this life, I only love Chloe.” Brandon and Noah also rushed to shield her. “You’re the city’s richest heiress, you can have any man you want. Why do you have to fight Chloe for them?” “Exactly. A spoiled heiress like you, all you care about is yourself. You can’t compare to innocent Chloe.” I couldn’t help but laugh, furious. Chloe Miller was just a poor college student I’d sponsored. I’d sympathized with her past, brought her to the city to live, and genuinely cared for her, even inviting her to be my bridesmaid. But I never expected that she had been secretly seducing my three childhood friends all along. No matter. Reborn, I finally see things clearly. Before I could even retort, Julian, his face dark, cut them off. “Since the Sterling family refused, what about the Hayes and Collins families?” Brandon and Noah immediately scoffed. “Even if we can’t have Chloe, we’d never marry Aria Thorne and break Chloe’s heart.” “She considers us good friends; how could we betray her?” Liam eyed me warily. “As long as Chloe is fine in this life, I have no regrets.” I looked at Liam, a flicker of surprise hitting me. In my last life, he hadn’t been so quick to refuse the alliance, nor had he so openly declared his love for Chloe. Could he have been reborn too? Seeing my silence, Liam impatiently grabbed my wrist. “You’re just so set on marrying me, aren’t you? All for the business interests between the Sterling and Thorne families?” “If you kneel and apologize to Chloe right now, and promise me that our marriage would just be a formality—” “And after the wedding, we live separate lives, you can’t object to me and Chloe sleeping in our marital home, and you ensure Chloe never foolishly hurts herself again—then I’ll agree.” This time, before I could open my mouth, Julian swung his fist straight at Liam’s face. “What status, what position does your Sterling family hold?! How dare you speak to Miss Thorne like that!” That’s right, the Thorne family is the richest in the city. How *dare* they?!

Julian’s punch packed a lot of force; Liam was sent sprawling to the ground. He recovered, scrambling to his feet, and pointed a finger at Julian’s nose, cursing, “A nanny’s son! How dare you hit me!” Chloe started to cry, gently touching Liam’s face, then turned to me, whining, “Miss Thorne, if you’re angry, take it out on me! How could you let him hit Mr. Sterling?” The words had barely left her mouth when I couldn’t resist. I slapped her. “I’ll hit him, and I’ll hit you too!” Chloe clutched her face, tears instantly gushing out. Brandon quickly shoved me away. “Aria Thorne! Even if you’re the richest heiress, you can’t behave like this!” “No wonder Liam wouldn’t even look at you all these years. You’re just too vicious!” I turned to them, sneering, “Have you forgotten that your family businesses all depend on *our* Thorne family to thrive?” “Even Julian, who’s not even part of your elite circles, understands that, so why don’t you?!” At my words, Brandon instantly clamped his mouth shut. Noah also looked away, stammering, “So what? Does that mean you can force us to marry you?” I scoffed disdainfully. “I never said I wanted to marry any of you three losers.” Liam’s head shot up at my words. “Aria Thorne, what game are you playing now?!” Chloe nestled into his arms, her eyes red, saying, “It seems Miss Thorne is still angry with me. I shouldn’t have told you I was in a bad mood today…” Hearing this, Liam anxiously wiped away her tears. “It’s not your fault. Aria Thorne has been clinging to us three for years; everyone knows she can’t live without us and wouldn’t dare do anything serious.” “I just can’t stand her always bullying you. She just needs a lesson.” I was speechless. If they didn’t believe me, then I wouldn’t bother explaining. I turned to link my arm through Julian’s, ready to leave, but Liam grabbed my arm, stopping me. His gaze fell on our intertwined arms. “Since when are you so close to a nanny’s son?!” I slapped his hand away, enunciating each word. “What nanny’s son? Julian Vance is my fiancé.” “He’s the man I’m going to marry.” At this declaration, everyone stared at me in unison. Especially Liam. He widened his eyes, pointing at Julian, and roared, “You’d say you’re marrying a nanny’s son just to humiliate me?! Are you out of your mind?!” I felt Julian’s arm tense; clearly, he was also startled by my words. Brandon and Noah snapped out of their shock, stepping forward to mock me. “Aria, you really aren’t picky, are you? You’d even stoop to a nanny’s son!” I pointed at Chloe and retorted with a smile, “Well, you haven’t exactly picked well yourselves.” Chloe instantly swayed, choking out, “Miss Thorne, don’t say such things carelessly.” “While the three young masters have been kind to me, I haven’t done anything to offend you. You don’t need to be so sarcastic.” She paused, then looked at Liam with a contrite expression. “It’s Miss Thorne who knows what she’s done.” “Actually, I’ve long noticed your nanny’s son often going in and out of your room…” “It’s all my fault. I protected you before and didn’t tell Liam…” I used to consider her my best friend, even let her be my only bridesmaid. And she just spouted such nonsense? Liam snorted, pulling her back. “Chloe, you’re still too naive. You’re even covering for Aria Thorne!” “I think she’s just jealous of how good we are to you, so she’s trying every trick to get our attention.” “A dirty, stinking nanny’s son like him? We wouldn’t even give him a second glance.” I nodded, perfectly satisfied. “If that’s the case, then I won’t disturb your little ‘harem’ then.” With that, I pulled Julian into the upscale boutique next door. I pointed to the most expensive suits on display. “Get all of these down. My fiancé needs to try them on.” Julian snapped out of his daze and looked at me. “Miss Thorne, a joke is a joke.” I looked at him, amused, and smiled. “I’m serious. Don’t you want to?”

“How could I not want to…” He was about to speak when Liam’s voice cut in from the doorway. “Buy out the entire store!” His voice was laced with unconcealed rage. “I’ll give them to beggars!” A sales assistant, holding the suits I’d picked for Julian, looked at Liam hesitantly. “These have already been bought by Miss Thorne…” Liam sneered, “She hasn’t paid yet, has she?!” With that, he pulled out his black card and waved it in front of the assistant. “I’ll pay first, then they’re mine!” I chuckled, taking the suits from the sales assistant. “Just deduct it from my prepaid card.” The assistant breathed a sigh of relief and quickly went to swipe the card. As I left, Liam shouted behind me, “Aria Thorne, stop pretending!” “Aren’t you just playing hard to get with us?! Your tricks are too childish!” I ignored him, quickening my pace. On the way home, Julian held my hand tightly, his eyes filled with earnestness. “Aria, don’t worry. If you marry me, I’ll never let you suffer any injustice.” I couldn’t help but smile, seeing his serious expression. Suffer injustice? How could I? He still thought I didn’t know who he really was. The next day, I took Julian to our new home to arrange it, but what I saw shocked me. The grand villa, which my Thorne family had paid for, was completely filled with Chloe Miller’s favorite pink Hello Kitty décor. Even the master bedroom’s accent wall prominently displayed wedding photos of Liam and Chloe. The butler stammered, “Mr. Sterling insisted he was your fiancé, and said you’d agreed to the décor for the wedding home…” Just as he finished, Liam called me. His voice was dripping with smugness. “Our wedding is the day after tomorrow. Don’t be so picky.” “After we’re married, Chloe and I will sleep in the master bedroom. If you like, you can occasionally join us there.”

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The night before my crucial athletic scholarship tryout, a gang broke into the stadium. They beat me and humiliated me. The next day, my ex-girlfriend, Amber, spread rumors all over social media, claiming I cheated and was only after my family’s money. Back in our quiet town, my parents were suffocated by the whispers and rumors. Overwhelmed by the crushing despair, they tragically took their own lives. I promptly broke up with Amber and reported everything to the police, armed with evidence. The hospital report came back: my spine was damaged, making it impossible for me to stand for long periods, let alone run long distances. My appeals were rejected, one after another. That’s when Eleanor Vance, a powerhouse attorney, found me. She fought my case day and night. The day we won, she proposed to me. We were together for three years. My legs were useless, and I relied on a wheelchair, but she never left my side. Until today. I wheeled myself to her office to pick her up, only to overhear her tenderly coaxing her foster brother: “You said you envied his running skills? Well, he can’t run anymore.” “You admired his tall, strong build? I tampered with his medical records, making it seem like his leg nerves were damaged, so he’d be forever dependent on a wheelchair.” “Now you’re saying you envy his amber eyes? I can’t exactly gouge them out and make amber cufflinks for you, can I?”

“Why not, sis? Ever since Mom and Dad died, I only have you. You promised them you’d give me everything I wanted. Are you going back on your word?” Damian, her foster brother, wrapped his arms around Eleanor’s arm, his voice laced with a hint of grievance. Eleanor looked down, her fingertips gently tapping his nose. It was a comforting gesture. “Tonight is our three-year anniversary. All I have to do is sweet-talk him, and he’d give me anything, not just his eyes, but his very life.” Eleanor’s legal assistant, standing nearby, couldn’t stand it anymore. “Mr. Alex has suffered enough these past years, Ms. Eleanor. Mr. Damian, you already got what you wanted: first place in the tryouts, a strong physique, and Amber’s attention. Why keep tormenting Mr. Alex?” Amber! Those two words pierced my heart like ice. Wasn’t that my ex-girlfriend’s name? Damian laughed, a bit too loudly. He reached out and pushed the assistant’s shoulder. “I’m getting together with Amber next month, but the damn thing is, she still has that cripple’s photos on her phone.” “Even in her sleep, she’d gaze at his eyes, claiming she’d always admired how focused and profound Alex’s eyes were.” He changed the subject, turning his head to Eleanor. “Sis, tell me, are that cripple’s eyes really that beautiful?” Eleanor raised an eyebrow, looking nonchalant. “His eyes?” “How would I know? My gaze never lingered on trash like that. All I care about is my precious little brother being happy.” The early spring evening wind was still chilly. My hands, gripping the wheels of my chair, were stiff with cold. So love really can be faked. Was the salvation I once believed in just another abyss? I scoffed at my own foolishness, furiously pushing the wheels, desperate to escape. But my wheelchair got stuck in a pothole. I pushed frantically, my hands already raw and bloody. With a violent shove, the chair made a loud noise, a part seemed to come loose. I tumbled out of my wheelchair. The commotion caught Eleanor’s attention at the company entrance. She rushed towards me, kneeling down and shielding me with her body.

Seeing the scrapes on her arm, my heart lurched. “Alex, what are you doing here? It’s windy out, and you’re always so frail. What if something happened to you? How would I live alone?” The love in her eyes seemed to overflow. She looked at my bloody hands, her face filled with anguish. For a moment, I was disoriented, unable to tell which version of her was acting. It wasn’t until her tears fell onto my wounds, stinging, that my mind cleared. “Alex, why aren’t you speaking? Are you scared? It’s okay, I’ll take you home. Don’t be afraid.” She had said those same words three years ago, the day she confessed her feelings to me. She told me we were both people with no one to rely on, and she wanted to be my rock. I believed her. But at that moment, I realized it was all a joke. It was she who had turned me into someone with no one to rely on. Damian, unable to hold back, strode towards me. “Brother-in-law, I’m here for you too. Don’t worry, even if you’re not as mobile now, we won’t ever look down on you.” “From now on, just tell me if you need to go out. I’ll go with you. It’ll be safer that way.” On most days, Damian was cheerful and handsome. Living under the same roof, we’d never even had a single argument. When I fell down the stairs that year, he was the first to find me and rush me to the hospital. The conversation between the siblings at the company entrance echoed in my ears. As I thought about it, my chest tightened, and my whole body went numb. So that oily spill that caused my fall down the stairs that year was all his doing. And my legs, which could have recovered, were made worse by Eleanor’s fake medical records, making me miss the optimal treatment time, forever losing the ability to walk normally. I shoved Eleanor away from me, my eyes wide with horror. She froze for a second, a flicker of displeasure crossing her face. As if she had no more patience to console me. She shot a look at her assistant. “Get him in the car. I rented a yacht. Tonight’s anniversary has to be perfect.” I lifted my gaze in terror, meeting Damian’s eyes. He was staring at my eyes with a knowing, significant smile. My eyes inexplicably stung, and I remembered Eleanor saying she’d gouge my eyes out for Damian’s cufflinks. My stomach churned with nausea. The usually impartial, sharp, and capable legal elite was secretly involved in so many unspeakable deeds. I was forcibly helped into the car, sitting in the back seat with Eleanor, trembling uncontrollably. The assistant stepped on the gas, and the car headed towards the coast. I clung to a sliver of hope, looking at Eleanor. Her expression remained unchanged as she scrolled through her phone. The screen showed her chat with Damian. “Damian, don’t worry. I’ll give you whatever you want. Don’t be mad, it’s not good for your health if you get angry.” “Sis, you don’t worry either. I’ll be fine for you. You’re always the one I love most. If it weren’t for society’s views, I’d definitely choose to be with you.” Eleanor’s lips curved into an unstoppable smile as she read Damian’s messages. Sensing my gaze, she blacked out her phone screen and placed it face down on her lap. Her face remained calm, and she even reached out to caress my hair. “Alex, you once said you loved watching the sea.” “Tonight, you can watch as much as you want before we head back.” She shifted her gaze to my eyes, her hand slowly moving to my cheek. Her thumb caressed my eyelids: “I never noticed before, but Alex, your eyes are so beautiful.” I was trembling like a leaf, yet I dared not provoke her. “Watch as much as I want?” “Are we never going to the beach again?” “Or is it that my eyes are having problems too?”

Eleanor’s hand froze. A moment later, her gaze darted away, and she withdrew her hand. “Nonsense. If you want, we could buy a house by the sea. Then, you could every single day…” Watch the sea? She left those two words unsaid, and a dead silence filled the car. The assistant driving jolted their hand, swerving the steering wheel. I slammed into Eleanor’s shoulder. Eleanor immediately pulled me into her embrace, gently stroking my hair. “It’s okay. Get some sleep. I’ll wake you when we get there.” Looking at the face I had loved for three years, I couldn’t bear it and closed my eyes. After a long while, Eleanor seemed to think I was asleep. She let out a cold laugh and called her assistant’s name. “I’m warning you, if you dare to spill anything to Alex, your family will share the consequences with you.” The assistant stammered, their voice trembling. “Don’t worry, I won’t say a word.” Eleanor finally relaxed, sighing. “Blame him for getting in Damian’s way. Tonight, bring those thugs from before. I’ll get him drunk tonight, and you make sure they’re ready. Have them destroy his eyes. Even if it gets investigated, it’ll have nothing to do with us.” “If it goes to court, we’ll just say… it was those men retaliating against Alex after they got out of prison.” The assistant hesitated. “But Ms. Eleanor, Mr. Alex has a deep trauma from those men. He trembles just seeing strangers, let alone anyone besides you.” “If Mr. Alex is too traumatized, the consequences could be dire!” Eleanor reached back and gripped her assistant’s shoulder, her voice filled with cruelty. “So what? The worst that could happen is he goes insane. We’ll just keep him in the basement. I have plenty of money to support him anyway. He can live comfortably without ever working. He should be grateful.” “Unless you have feelings for my husband? Is that why you keep spouting such nonsense!” The assistant, cowed by Eleanor’s aura, could only squeeze out a few words of pleading. The car came to a smooth stop on the beach. I opened my eyes, clenching my fists as I looked at the turbulent sea. In this life, I had endured too much. I couldn’t bear this inhuman torment for another moment. Tonight, to be buried in the sea I loved most. Perhaps it was my best option. But before I die, Eleanor. I will make you pay for your actions! Eleanor thoughtfully prepared a new wheelchair for me, and she was now pushing me towards the yacht. The aroma of the early prepared dinner was inviting, but I had no mind to savor it. As she positioned my wheelchair, I slipped a sleeping pill into her drink. As we clinked glasses, Eleanor’s face flushed pink. Her movements became increasingly sluggish. My phone buzzed. I pulled it out of my pocket; it was a message from a reporter. “We heard about your experience and hope to speak out for you. Although you declined our invitation last time, I’d like to try again.” “As a rising star in the sports world back then, you were highly anticipated. But due to an assault by thugs and betrayal by your ex-girlfriend spreading rumors, your career and life plummeted.” “Although you won the lawsuit back then, the arrested individuals were hired. The real mastermind is still at large. Do you truly not want to uncover the truth of what happened that year?” My grip on the phone tightened. The hatred in my heart grew deeper. Eleanor, who was now slurring her words, looked up at me. “Alex, who are you texting? Didn’t I tell you?” “There are too many bad people in this world. It’s my fault for protecting you too well, making you so unguarded.” “You shouldn’t talk to outsiders. Be a good boy, give me your phone.”

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When I woke up in the hospital, I suddenly realized I could see a number floating above everyone’s head. The number above my best friend Tiffany’s head was 206. My boyfriend Jason’s number was 34. After a passionate night with Jason when I returned home from the hospital, his number changed to 33. I realized the numbers represented how many times a person had had sex. Just as I was thinking this superpower wasn’t very useful, I attended Jason’s grandfather’s birthday party. Jason took my drunk friend Tiffany upstairs to rest. When they came back down, their numbers had changed to 205 and 32. I turned my head and saw Jason’s uncle Ethan coming down the stairs. The number above his head was… 1683. “Aria, are you okay?” Jason instinctively tried to cover up the red mark Tiffany had “accidentally” left on his neck. I glanced coldly at the “32” floating above his head, my eyes filled with disdain. They say men hit their sexual peak at 25, but it seems Jason was determined to prove that wrong. “It’s nothing,” I replied dismissively, turning my gaze to the glowing four-digit number above Ethan’s head. My interest was piqued. “How old is your uncle?” “He’ll be thirty after his next birthday.” Ah, thirty years old. The prime of his life, it seems. Noticing my odd expression, Jason wrapped his arm around my waist and whispered in my ear, trying to appease me: “My uncle’s having a birthday party next week. Want to come?” “Sure,” I replied without hesitation. Jason glanced at Ethan, who stood a short distance away in an impeccable suit. With his sharp features, Ethan was the type to command attention wherever he went. Jason let out a small huff, jealousy evident in his eyes. “Aria, you’re not interested in my uncle, are you?” “Of course not. I can barely handle you, let alone anyone else,” I said, pinching Jason’s cheek and wriggling out of his embrace. I started walking towards Ethan. Jason was about to follow when Tiffany, who had just come downstairs, suddenly twisted her ankle. With a cry of surprise, Jason immediately turned to play the hero. I grabbed a drink and approached Ethan. “Uncle Ethan?” Ethan turned, frowning slightly when he saw me. “I’m Jason’s girlfriend, Aria.” “Aria?” Ethan’s deep, pleasant voice repeated my name. My heart fluttered as I heard him ask, “Which Aria?” “The one meaning ‘song’,” I replied with a smile, gazing into his eyes. Suddenly, a waiter appeared behind me and bumped into me. I stumbled forward, falling against Ethan’s chest. He politely steadied me by the shoulders, but the drink in my hand spilled all over him. “I’m so sorry, Uncle Ethan!” I exclaimed in panic, grabbing his wrist. “Let me help you clean up!” Somehow, Ethan found himself being pulled by me to the empty bathroom. I frantically dabbed at his clothes with paper towels, my face flushed bright red. “I’m so sorry, Uncle Ethan. I’m such a klutz. Is there any way to fix this?” I bent over to wipe his clothes, looking up at him with red-rimmed eyes. He looked down at me, our positions incredibly intimate as we stood there, until he finally cleared his throat. “There are spare suits upstairs. I can just change.” Ethan turned to leave but suddenly heard a soft sob from behind him. “I’m so useless. Jason will be so angry with me… Uncle Ethan, please don’t tell him, okay?” Ethan turned back to look at me, confused. “It’s just clothes.” I leaned against the edge of the sink, looking at him with teary eyes. “But I can tell Jason doesn’t like me as much anymore. He and Tiffany…” I bit my lip in shame, my lips trembling. Ethan sighed lightly, remembering Jason’s irresponsible behavior. “I won’t tell him.” My face lit up with a smile. “Thank you, Uncle Ethan!” Ethan’s expression froze for a moment. He said nothing more and left the bathroom. Only after he was gone did the smile slowly fade from my face.

After returning home, while Jason was in the shower, I grabbed his phone and quickly found Ethan’s contact information. I searched for the number on my own phone and sent a friend request. I was about to turn off Jason’s phone and put it back when it suddenly lit up with a new message. “You were so sweet today. Make sure to hide the gift I left for you well – don’t let Aria see it.” It was a message from Tiffany. I raised an eyebrow, putting the phone down without reacting. The next morning, Jason had already left for work by the time I woke up. He was interning at his family’s company, with Ethan as his direct supervisor. He didn’t dare be even a minute late. I had the day off from the hospital, so after getting up I went to the supermarket to buy groceries. I spent the morning cooking and prepared two lunch boxes. Then I drove to Jason’s office. Before leaving, I took a photo of the lunch boxes and sent it to Tiffany. “Tiffany, I spent all morning making lunch for Jason. What do you think?” Tiffany replied quickly. “That lucky guy! He must be over the moon!” I smirked, closed my phone, and drove off to the office. One of those lunch boxes was indeed for Jason, but it wasn’t made specially for him. On the contrary, I needed Tiffany to help distract Jason, my little stumbling block. Sure enough, when I arrived at the office, Jason’s desk was empty. His computer was still warm – he’d left recently. A helpful coworker nearby said, “Aria, Jason often goes to play games in Mr. Jiang’s office. Why don’t you check if he’s there?” Perfect. I smiled and nodded, then knocked on Ethan’s office door. “Come in.” Ethan didn’t look up until he sensed the person at the door seemed hesitant. Then he raised his head to look at me. “Aria?” “Uncle Ethan.” I called out timidly, glancing around the office. “Is Jason not here?” So she’s looking for Jason. Ethan lowered his eyes nonchalantly. “No.” “Can I wait for him here?” I asked carefully. “You may.” I entered the office with the lunch boxes. “Uncle Ethan, have you eaten yet?” Ethan continued writing, giving a soft “Mm” in response. “I made lunch. I prepared a portion for you too, to apologize for my rudeness yesterday.” I placed one of the lunch boxes on the desk and turned to look at Ethan. “Do you have any foods you don’t eat, Uncle Ethan? I cut the carrots into little dog shapes. They’re really cute.” Ethan put away his documents and moved to sit on the couch. I opened the lunch box and pushed it in front of him. “Try some.” Ethan took a few bites. Seeing me staring at him expectantly, he had no choice but to comment, “It tastes good.” “Thank you, Uncle Ethan. I’m glad you like it.” My gaze met his eyes. His eyes were very dark, with slightly downturned outer corners. As I looked at him, I glanced at the number above his head in my peripheral vision. It was still steadfastly at 1683. My heart began to pound like a drum. “Uncle Ethan, your eyes are so beautiful.”

Just as I finished speaking, the office door suddenly opened and Jason walked in. “Uncle Ethan…” Jason’s voice abruptly stopped. I quickly averted my gaze, lowering my head in embarrassment as my ears slowly turned red. “Aria, why are you here?” The strange atmosphere made Jason sense something was off. His tone was somewhat accusatory. “Why didn’t you wait for me outside?” “I told her to come in and wait for you,” Ethan said, putting down the lunch box and turning to look at Jason with a cold expression. “Where were you during work hours?” “I… I went to the bathroom,” Jason mumbled vaguely. He looked at the half-eaten lunch box on Ethan’s desk, and that inexplicable anger inside him rose up. For once, he gave his uncle a cold look. “Uncle Ethan, you ate my lunch.” “No, yours is right here.” I took out the other lunch box and handed it to Jason. Jason opened it and saw that his carrots were cut into heart shapes, while Ethan’s were just dog shapes. He let out a satisfied little huff. “Aria, let’s not disturb Uncle Ethan’s lunch.” With that, Jason took my hand and led me out of Ethan’s office. After we left, Ethan picked up his chopsticks again and looked down at the little dog-shaped carrots in the lunch box. The more he looked, the more annoyed he felt. He ended up throwing them in the trash. Outside the office, Tiffany came to greet us. “Jason, you’re so lucky! Why don’t I ever get to eat Aria’s homemade lunches?” Tiffany said teasingly. I coldly observed the number 204 above Tiffany’s head and the 31 above Jason’s, inwardly sneering. At some point, Tiffany had started calling Jason by his first name instead of “that guy.” Now I realized I’d noticed too late – they’d been hooking up for a while. Tiffany had gotten her job at the company through my recommendation. It seems I’d invited the wolf into our home. “The lunch isn’t a big deal. Soon enough, you might be eating at our wedding,” I said happily, looking at Jason. Jason’s eyes suddenly lit up. “Aria, you’ve agreed to marry me?” “We’ll see how you behave,” I said lightly. “I have to get back to the hospital for work, so I can’t stay for lunch. Tiffany can keep you company.” With that, I turned and left, ignoring Jason’s elated expression and Tiffany’s pale face behind me. The show was just beginning. I couldn’t bear to end it so quickly. That evening, Jason came home two hours later than usual. I sat on the couch reviewing some medical files while waiting for him. I heard him open the door. “Honey, I’m exhausted…” Jason looked refreshed but acted worn out as he collapsed into my arms, hugging me and mumbling complaints. I gently stroked his hair, glancing at the number above his head out of the corner of my eye.

It seems Tiffany was even more impatient than I’d imagined. I looked down at Jason’s handsome, sunny face and the dark circles slowly forming under his eyes. With a mix of pity and mockery, I lightly caressed his cheek before pushing him away. “Did you work overtime today?” “Yeah,” Jason lied smoothly. “Uncle Ethan gave me so many tasks. I’m exhausted, baby. Give me a kiss…” I ruthlessly pushed away his approaching face and stood up to turn off my computer. Jason’s eyes filled with hurt. “Aren’t we getting married soon? Why are you being so cold, honey? Don’t tell me you can resist my perfect body when it’s right in front of you?” “How could I?” I answered absent-mindedly. “Of course we’ll get married, but have you proposed yet?” Jason’s eyes immediately lit up again. “I will! Of course I will!” I smiled and patted his cheek lightly. “Wash up before you come to bed.” Then I got up and went to the bedroom to sleep. … Jason moved quickly. He was the type to wag his tail and beg for praise after doing even a small good deed. Although he hadn’t told me the date of the proposal, I’d already guessed based on his behavior. Of course, I shouldn’t be the only one who knew about this. While out shopping, I “accidentally” told Tiffany about Jason’s upcoming proposal. “He’s so silly, preparing everything in secret and thinking I don’t know anything. But there are so many holes in his plan.” I smiled happily, pulling Tiffany close and “sincerely” sharing my joy with her. “Tiffany, I feel like he’s the one for me. You can see how much Jason loves me, right?” “Right,” Tiffany nodded absent-mindedly, a hint of disdain flashing in her eyes. On the day of the proposal, Jason tricked me into going to the venue under the pretense of meeting friends. I carefully chose a white dress and opened my chat with Ethan, which so far only contained greetings. “Uncle Ethan, I think Jason is going to propose to me today. I’m so happy!” Ethan didn’t reply, but that didn’t stop me from sharing my joy. I sent him photos of the decorated venue, along with a smiling emoji. As I expected, I waited until after 8 PM but Jason never showed up. His phone was turned off. Heartbroken, I sat alone at the venue drinking a lot of alcohol. As I was preparing to leave, I accidentally twisted my ankle. Crying, I called Jason. He finally answered. “I’m so sorry, Aria. I had an urgent matter come up and couldn’t make it. I promise I’ll make it up to you when I’m done!” “Jason, I’ve twisted my ankle… I can’t move…” Flashes of lightning crossed the summer night sky, and the rain started pouring down unexpectedly. “Aria, find somewhere to take shelter from the rain. I’ll send someone to pick you up!!” The call was hurriedly ended. I stared at the black screen of my phone, my expression gradually turning cold. After sitting in the rain for a long time, headlights finally flashed nearby. A car stopped not far away, and Ethan got out with an umbrella, stopping in front of me to shield me from the rain. “Jason asked me to take you home.” “Uncle Ethan…” I started crying pitifully. “It hurts so much…” Ethan frowned and bent down to check my ankle. The rain was getting heavier, so he had no choice but to pick me up and carry me to a nearby hotel to get a room first. In the air-conditioned elevator, our two rain-soaked bodies were pressed tightly together. Ethan’s burning body temperature enveloped me, and my face turned red and hot. I wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol or desire affecting me. After entering the room, Ethan set me down on the couch and got a towel to dry my hair. My head softly leaned against his waist, and I was almost falling over on the couch. He bent down and caught me in one smooth motion. I opened my eyes and looked at him hazily. His face was very close to mine, so close that I could hear his breathing. “Uncle Ethan, thank you…” I drowsily moved closer. “I like you so much…” My cold lips slowly pressed against his. They were so hot and soft. My fingers trembled as I involuntarily grasped his hand. Ethan’s previously restrained hand somehow relaxed, interlacing our fingers… In the heat of the moment, his hand unconsciously gripped my waist tightly. I cried out in pain. “Honey, be gentle…” Ethan’s eyes darkened, his voice hoarse: “What did you call me?”

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