Author: Momo Chan

When I won an iPad at my company’s annual party, I was thrilled. As soon as I got home, I shared the news with my mom, grinning from ear to ear. The next day, my sister-in-law, Amanda, knocked on my bedroom door. “Hey, do you think you could give that iPad to your nephew, Ryan?” she asked with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Ryan’s been needing one for school—online classes, assignments, you know. You don’t have kids, so you don’t really need it. Why not just give it to him?” I shook my head. “Sorry, Amanda, but I’m planning to use it myself.” That’s when the entire family decided to gang up on me. “You’re living here, eating here, and you can’t even give your nephew something you got for free?” “What a selfish, ungrateful leech!” “Don’t ever call me your brother again. Get out of this house!” So, I did. I packed my things, moved out, and left them to their drama. Funny thing is, after a while, they begged me to come back. “Listen, Emily,” Amanda began one evening, pulling me aside with an overly earnest look. “You know how hard your brother works, right? Ryan just started high school, and the pressure is insane. We can’t afford a tutor, and the iPad would help him keep up with online resources.” I hesitated. “But I was planning to use it too…” “For what?” she snapped, patting my hand like I was a child. “Watching YouTube? Scrolling through Instagram? You can do all that on your phone, can’t you?” She sighed dramatically. “Ryan’s at such a critical point in his education. As his aunt, shouldn’t you support him?” The iPad I’d won was the latest model, something I’d been eyeing for months but couldn’t justify buying because of its price. Now she wanted me to hand it over for free? Absolutely not. “You could always check out second-hand options,” I suggested. “You can get a decent tablet for much cheaper.” Amanda’s eyes widened in horror. “Second-hand? Are you serious? All the boys in Ryan’s class have the newest models. Do you want him to be the laughingstock of the school? Is that what you want?” Before I could respond, she sneered, “You’re trying to humiliate him, aren’t you?” I clenched my fists. “Then go buy him a new one!” She threw her hands up. “Why would I do that when you already have one? It’s such a waste!” Her tone shifted to mock sympathy. “You’re divorced now, Emily. No husband, no kids. When you’re old, you’ll need Ryan to take care of you. Shouldn’t you invest in his future?” I laughed bitterly. “Don’t worry about me. I won’t need anyone.” And with that, I slammed the door in her face and went to work.

After my divorce, I moved back into my parents’ house. Between my job and the messy legal battle with my ex, I figured staying with family would give me some stability. Amanda wasn’t thrilled with the arrangement. She’d turned my old bedroom into a storage space and wasn’t happy about having to clear it out. As I started unpacking my things, she stood in the doorway, arms crossed. “Do you really need to move everything back in? These boxes were just fine where they were. You hardly take up any space when you’re sleeping, so why not just leave them here?” Her logic was absurd. My room was already the smallest in the house, and with all her junk in there, I could barely move. Still, I bit my tongue and quietly cleared out the space. To smooth things over, I offered to pay $300 a month as a contribution to the household expenses. Amanda put on a fake smile. “Oh, there’s no need for that. You’re family.” When I insisted, she finally relented. “Well, if it makes you feel better, I’ll take it. But don’t worry—I’ll make sure you’re comfortable here. I’ll even cook your favorite meals!” That promise didn’t last long. Barely two months in, she started complaining at the dinner table. “Groceries are so expensive these days. And doing all this housework? My back is killing me.” One evening, while we were all watching TV, she stormed into the living room and started ranting about money. “Ryan needs to enroll in an extracurricular program, but we can’t afford it. And whose fault is that? Your brother barely makes enough to feed this family!” she yelled, glaring at him. “Do you know how long it’s been since I bought myself new clothes? I can’t believe I married someone so useless!” Before she could keep going, my brother slapped her across the face. The room went silent. Amanda froze for a second before bursting into tears, wailing so loudly it made the walls shake. “Enough!” my dad shouted, slamming his coffee cup onto the table. Amanda immediately stopped crying, staring at him in shock. “If you don’t like it here, you can leave,” he said coldly. Amanda opened her mouth to argue, but I quickly stepped in to diffuse the situation. “It’s okay, Amanda. I know you’ve been under a lot of stress. I’ll add another $100 to my monthly contribution. It’s not much, but I hope it helps.” That seemed to calm her down. She wiped her tears and nodded reluctantly. My dad, however, glared at me. “Ever since you came back, this family’s been in chaos. You couldn’t hold onto your marriage, and now you’re bringing your bad luck here. You’re nothing but a burden.” He’d never liked me. To him, I was just a daughter who’d failed to “marry well” and brought shame to the family by getting divorced. At the time, I thought he was right. I felt guilty for moving back in and tried to make up for it by keeping my head down and buying expensive gifts for everyone. But no matter how much I gave, they never treated me with kindness. My mom was the only one who showed me any warmth. The rest of them only spoke to me when they wanted something—like the time I paid for Ryan’s summer camp. Ironically, I’d moved back home to save money, but living there ended up costing me more than renting an apartment. Looking back, it’s clear that Amanda’s constant complaints about my brother’s income were just a smokescreen. In the end, I was the only one footing the bill for their luxuries.

After work, I decided not to head home right away. After the morning’s drama, I wasn’t ready to face Amanda. I called my mom to let her know I’d be late and told her not to wait for me for dinner. Growing up, my dad ran the house like a dictator. As my brother got older, he naturally took the position of second-in-command. I always thought my mom and I were on the same team. She was quiet, submissive, and rarely taken seriously. When my brother dropped out of middle school, I’d often come home from school to find him and my dad sprawled on the couch, watching TV or playing video games. The floor was always littered with cigarette butts, sunflower seeds, and trash. Meanwhile, my mom, with an apron tied around her waist and gloves on her hands, would be rushing around cleaning up after them. She’d sweep the floor, ask them to throw their trash into the bin, and then head back to the kitchen. But by the time she returned, the floor would be trashed all over again. I felt sorry for her and helped with the housework whenever I could. When my dad hit her, I’d step in to shield her, hoping to ease her suffering even a little. So, when I won the iPad, I only told her, trusting she’d keep it between us. I even posted about it on my private social media, carefully excluding any family members. But by the next morning, Amanda knew. When my mom called to check on me during lunch, I couldn’t hold back my frustration. “Mom, I told you not to say anything about the iPad! How does Amanda already know?” She hesitated, then stammered, “Well, uh… last night when you told me about it, I think she overheard us talking.” “And what, you just told her everything when she asked?” I snapped. “I didn’t mean to! She said Ryan needed it for school, so I… I just mentioned it.” I was so angry I couldn’t speak. After a pause, she added nervously, “Emily, if you don’t need it, why not let your nephew have it? Amanda may be a bit harsh, but Ryan’s education is important…” Ryan’s education? He was consistently at the bottom of his class and was always in trouble. Somehow, Amanda had convinced herself that an iPad was the magical solution to his academic failures. I ended the call, not wanting to hear more excuses. When I finally got home that evening, the house was unusually quiet. Normally, this was the time of night when Ryan would be glued to the couch, refusing to go to bed. Amanda would yell at him, and the two of them would argue until the entire house was in chaos. But tonight, only my parents were in the living room. My brother and his family were nowhere to be seen. I went to my room and decided it was time to sell the iPad. Things had been tight financially lately, and I’d been debating whether to keep it or sell it for cash. After Amanda’s stunt, the decision was easy—selling it was the way to go. I opened my desk drawer to grab it… but it was gone. The desk had a lock, but I’d lost the key years ago. I figured it was safe enough to leave the iPad there—after all, I was living in my own home. But now, it had vanished. I immediately knew who was responsible. Ever since moving back in, I’d noticed my things going missing—half-used skincare products, makeup I rarely wore, clothes I didn’t touch, snacks I’d bought for myself. None of it was expensive, so I’d let it slide. But this? Stealing the iPad crossed the line. Fuming, I stormed into Amanda’s room without knocking. She and Ryan were lounging on the bed, and the moment she saw me, she instinctively pushed something down onto the mattress. It was too late. I’d already seen it. “Don’t you knock?” Amanda snapped, trying to go on the offensive. “When have you ever knocked before coming into my room?” I shot back. Her face twisted in indignation. “Watch your tone! Don’t forget whose house you’re living in!” “‘Whose house’? This is my house!” I shouted. “And while we’re at it, stop taking my things. Give me back the iPad!” Amanda’s laugh was cold and mocking. “Your house? What a joke. No wonder your husband left you. Married for three years and you couldn’t even have a kid!” I froze, stunned by the cruelty of her words. She didn’t stop there. “Women like you—useless and barren—don’t deserve a place in any family. You’re lucky we even let you stay here!” The sheer audacity of her words made me laugh bitterly. I shook my head, regaining some composure. “I don’t have time for this. Just give me the iPad.” She glanced at the device on the bed, then sneered. “How do you know it’s yours? I just bought this today.” “Bought it?” I said, smirking. “Every iPad has a serial number. I took a photo of mine the day I got it. Let’s see if it matches.” I pulled out my phone and started dialing. “I’ll let the police sort this out.” Amanda panicked. She lunged at me, trying to grab my phone, and in the scuffle, it fell to the floor, the screen shattering on impact. “Call the cops, huh? Go ahead!” she screamed, grabbing a fistful of my hair. “I’ll beat you to death before they even get here!” The rage boiling inside me gave me strength. I shoved her off me, and she stumbled back, falling against the bed. Ryan jumped up, pointing a finger in my face. “How dare you touch my mom!” At fourteen, he was already tall and broad—a physical match for me. Despite everything I’d done for him, he now looked at me with pure hatred. I braced myself as he raised his fist, but before he could take a swing, my parents rushed into the room. “Are you all trying to destroy this house?!” my dad bellowed. Amanda, still shaken, ran to my parents, sobbing dramatically. “Look what your daughter did to me!” she wailed. “She attacked me and threatened to call the police! She’s out of control!” I opened my mouth to defend myself, but before I could get a word out, my dad slapped me across the face. The force of it left me stunned, my cheek burning as tears blurred my vision. “Do you do anything besides disgrace this family?” he growled. “If you cause one more problem, you’re out of this house for good.”

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The day my wife gave birth to a child for her terminally ill first love, her parents hired ten security guards to stand outside the delivery room. But even as the delivery ended, I didn’t show up to make a scene. Her mother held her hand, comforting her. “Sarah, don’t worry. As long as we’re here, he won’t get within ten feet of you.” “Your dad’s stationed at the hospital entrance too. If he dares to come here and stop you from having this baby, we’ll call the police!” Sarah, pale and exhausted, nodded weakly, but her eyes kept darting toward the elevator doors. When she saw only empty hallways, she finally exhaled in relief. She couldn’t understand why I wouldn’t just support her decision to have a child for her first love, Thomas. Looking at the nurse cradling the crying newborn, Sarah smiled with satisfaction. She thought to herself, If Brian comes to see me tomorrow, I’ll let bygones be bygones. I’ll even let him raise this child as his own father. What she didn’t know was that I had submitted my application to the United Nations earlier that day. In seven days, I would renounce my citizenship to become a doctor with Doctors Without Borders. I would leave this country—and her—forever. The day Sarah left the maternity recovery center, I had just finished handing over my hospital responsibilities. As I approached the front door, I heard laughter and cheerful voices inside. “This baby is gorgeous! Those big eyes—definitely got the best features from his dad,” Sarah’s mother cooed as she played with the baby in her arms. Meanwhile, Thomas was walking out of the kitchen with a steaming bowl of chicken soup. “I made this myself. You’re still weak; you need to take care of yourself,” he said, sitting beside Sarah and gently feeding her like they were the perfect little family. Sarah’s father sat nearby, shaking a rattle for the baby, grinning ear to ear. “This kid is just so lovable! Definitely takes after his dad. Thank God it’s not Brian—that guy’s such a bore. Imagine having a doctor for a father—what a nightmare!” My hand tightened on the doorknob. I thought back to the first time I met Sarah’s father. He had slapped me on the back and said being a doctor was a noble calling, how saving lives was an honor for the whole family. He even mentioned that he, too, had been a doctor before retiring early after a workplace injury. But now, here he was, sneering about how a doctor didn’t deserve a family. I lowered my head and let out a bitter laugh. Sarah and I had been married for three years. She told me early on that she didn’t want kids, and I respected that. I knew how dangerous childbirth could be, so I never pressured her. I still remember the day I left for my year-long advanced medical training abroad. She had cried so hard, saying she couldn’t bear to be apart from me. For that entire year, we talked every day, sharing every little detail of our lives. Even my colleagues teased me, saying we were like newlyweds who couldn’t get enough of each other, even after three years of marriage. But then, a month ago, I managed to take a break and fly home. After sitting through an exhausting eight-hour flight, I didn’t even stop to rest. I rushed straight home, only to find Sarah heavily pregnant, standing beside her first love, Thomas. My thoughts were interrupted by Thomas’s voice. “Brian, when did you get back? Why are you just standing there? Come in!” At his words, everyone in the room turned to look at me. When Sarah’s father noticed the resignation letter in my hand, his expression darkened. “Why the hell did I ever agree to let my daughter marry someone like you? What a disgrace. Quitting your job now—what are you planning to do? Live off us?!” “What kind of husband are you, huh?” Sarah’s mother jumped in, her voice sharp. “You quit your job? You couldn’t even hold onto a high-paying, stable career as a doctor? What else can you do?” “Sarah just had a baby! She and the child need money for everything! Are you planning to let the three of them starve?” I couldn’t help but laugh at her words. “Whose wife and child? Whoever they belong to should be the one providing for them.” “Brian, what’s that supposed to mean?!” Sarah’s voice rose, her eyes red with anger. She glared at me, her chest heaving with frustration. She coughed violently, and Thomas quickly moved to comfort her, rubbing her back with a look of concern. Taking a deep breath, Sarah shouted, “Three years ago, if it wasn’t for Thomas saving me in that car accident, I’d be dead! His parents are gone, and now he’s been diagnosed with terminal cancer. Soon, the world won’t even remember him!” “Why do you keep targeting him? Do you really think I’m some kind of filthy, immoral woman?” Thomas gave her a pained look before turning to me. “Brian, just let it go. This is all my fault. I promise I’ll disappear from your lives from now on. Just don’t let me ruin your marriage.” I looked at the four of them—the perfect little family—and felt a wave of irony wash over me. So this was what a real family looked like. Sarah took a deep breath before speaking again. “Brian, my patience has limits. If you keep badmouthing Thomas for no reason, then don’t bother coming home anymore!” “If you want to stay married to me, you’ll behave yourself. At the baby’s party next week, I’ll even announce in front of all our friends and family that you’re the baby’s father.” Next week? I glanced at the baby sleeping peacefully in the crib. By next week, I’d already be on a plane to another country. But before I left, I didn’t mind giving them a parting gift they’d never forget. Without a change in expression, I nodded. “Alright.” 2 After finishing my sentence, I didn’t bother to wait for their reaction. I turned and headed to the bedroom to pack my things. Since I’d already decided to leave for good, I didn’t want to leave any trace of myself behind. The laughter from the living room seeped through the closed door as I folded my clothes, making my hands pause for a moment. “Thomas, I’ve been thinking…” Sarah’s voice drifted in, soft but filled with affection. “I’d like the baby to have your last name. That way, no matter who he calls ‘Dad’ in the future, he’ll always remember that you are his real father.” Even without seeing her face, I could imagine the tender smile she must have worn as she said those words. And just like that, my heart, already riddled with wounds, took another blow. My mind flashed back to last month, when I’d flown home after a year abroad. I’d been so eager to see Sarah that I hadn’t cared about the long flight. I even brought home a special gift I’d picked out for her. But the moment I reached our front door, I froze. There she was, walking hand-in-hand with Thomas, laughing as they returned from a stroll. Sarah’s face turned pale with panic when she saw me, but Thomas just looked confused, staring at me like I was a stranger who’d wandered into the wrong house. “Are you sure you’ve got the right door?” he asked, his tone casual and mocking. I didn’t say a word. My eyes were fixed on Sarah’s swollen belly. Eleven months. I’d been gone for eleven months, and now my wife was pregnant. No matter how much I wanted to lie to myself, there was no way this child could be mine. Sarah’s panic grew as she rushed to stand between us, stammering an introduction. “This is my husband, Brian…” I thought Thomas would back off after hearing that, but instead, he acted like he owned the place. With an infuriating smirk, he invited me—invited me—into my own home. As we passed each other in the doorway, he leaned in close and whispered, just loud enough for me to hear: “I hear you’re a bit older than me. Guess I should call you ‘big bro.’ After all, my kid’s living in your house.” My blood boiled. I couldn’t take it anymore. Without thinking, I swung my fist and slammed it into his face. Years of longing, frustration, and betrayal erupted all at once. If there’d been a knife nearby, I might’ve done something I’d regret for the rest of my life. The neighbors must’ve heard the commotion because it wasn’t long before the police arrived. We were both taken to the station, but since it was deemed a “domestic matter,” the cops couldn’t intervene. They sent us home with a warning. When we got back, Sarah’s parents were waiting for us. Before I could explain, they immediately tore into me. “How dare you cause such a scene the moment you come back? Do you know how embarrassing this is for us? The whole neighborhood must think we’re a joke now!” “All those years of school, and this is what you’ve learned? Resorting to violence? If something had happened to Thomas, we’d never forgive you!” It was then I realized they’d known about Sarah and Thomas all along—and not only that, they supported it. In just one year, Thomas had become their perfect son-in-law, while I’d been kept in the dark. Bitter laughter bubbled in my throat as Sarah nervously approached me, trying to take my hand. “I never meant to betray you, Brian,” she said softly, her voice trembling. “Thomas… he’s not well. The doctors said he only has six months to live. I couldn’t bear the thought of him dying without leaving behind a child.” “I wanted to tell you, but you were so far away, and I didn’t want to distract you from your work. I thought we could talk about it when you got back.” “Brian, we can raise this baby together. Please?” She spoke about having a child so casually, as if it were just another errand on her to-do list. I didn’t respond. I just zipped up my suitcase and turned to leave. Before I could reach the door, Sarah’s mother walked in. She glanced at the suitcase by my feet and gave me a condescending smile. “Good. At least you know your place. While you were gone, I let Thomas stay in your room. The study’s been turned into a nursery, so you can sleep on the couch tonight—or better yet, find a hotel.” I was too drained to argue. Nodding silently, I headed to the living room and lay down on the couch. That night, the baby’s cries echoed from the bedroom. I rolled over and reached for my earplugs, but then I heard Sarah’s annoyed voice. “Thomas, can’t you do something? He won’t stop crying.” “You’re my baby too,” Thomas teased. “Why don’t I take care of you instead? Let the little guy cry—it’s good for his lungs.” Sarah giggled, whispering something too soft for me to hear, followed by the unmistakable sound of rustling sheets. I pulled the blanket over my head, trying to block out the noise. But every time I closed my eyes, I saw Sarah’s face from the night she first confessed her love to me—so pure, so full of hope. That version of her was gone, replaced by someone I no longer recognized. 3 I barely slept through the night, tossing and turning on the couch. At dawn, I grabbed my suitcase and left without a word. My first stop was the municipal office, where I filed the paperwork to renounce my citizenship and finalize my plans to leave the country. The process was surprisingly quick—having the right government approvals made everything smooth, and the clerk didn’t ask many questions. Just as I was about to leave, the clerk called out to me. She handed me a small piece of candy, her smile kind. “May your wishes come true,” she said softly. I gave her a faint smile, thanked her, and walked out. After checking into a nearby hotel and dropping off my suitcase, I decided to head out and find something to eat. But as fate would have it, I ran into Sarah and Thomas, surrounded by her parents—and their new baby. Thomas looked nothing like a man on the brink of death. He was dressed in a tailored Armani suit, his face glowing with health. “Brian! Wow, I thought I saw you earlier, but Sarah insisted it couldn’t be you,” Thomas called out, his voice dripping with mock surprise. His eyes landed on the recruitment flyer in my hand, and a smirk spread across his face. “So, you’re out here job hunting, huh? With your scrawny frame, are you planning to work construction? Seems like a bit much for you, doesn’t it?” I didn’t respond. The flyer had been handed to me by a young girl on the street, shivering as she stood in the winter cold. Out of sympathy, I’d taken it from her without even looking at it. Thomas took my silence as an opportunity to continue. His laughter grew louder, more mocking. “You should’ve told me you needed help. Who knows? Maybe I could’ve pulled some strings for you. After all, we’re family now, right? If you do well, Sarah will be happy, and I’ll sleep better at night knowing she’s taken care of.” His words hung in the air. My silence must’ve looked like agreement because Sarah’s expression darkened. Her brows furrowed deeply, and the disdain in her eyes became impossible to miss. “Why would anyone help him? He quit a perfectly good job as a doctor, and now he’s out here looking for work? If he starves on the streets, that’s his own fault. He deserves no sympathy.” She crossed her arms, glaring at me. “Brian, you really have no sense of responsibility, do you? What, you think this little act will guilt me into giving up the baby? Dream on.” I looked at her face—once so familiar, filled with warmth and love. Now, she was a stranger to me. I thought back to the early days of our marriage. Once, when the hospital’s cutthroat competition had left me demoralized and considering a career change, Sarah had held me close. I could still hear her voice as she gently patted my back and whispered in my ear: “We’re in this together, no matter what. Whatever you decide, I’ll support you.” “Who cares if you leave the hospital? You’re brilliant, and I know you’ll shine no matter where you go. I’ll always be by your side.” But now, that same woman stood by silently as another man humiliated me. She’d forgotten those promises. She’d forgotten the love we once shared. Even her parents, who had once welcomed me into their family with open arms, were now shaking their heads in disappointment. Sarah’s father let out a heavy sigh. “I must’ve been blind to think you could give my daughter the future she deserves.” “Good thing we’re still around,” her mother added. “If we weren’t here to protect Sarah, who knows what kind of life she’d have with someone like you?” Their voices grew louder, more exaggerated, and I could feel the stares of passersby on the street. My hands slowly clenched at my sides. I was about to speak when Thomas stepped forward, his voice filled with mock sincerity. “We’re actually on our way to take a family portrait. Brian, why don’t you join us? After all, I’ll be counting on you to help take care of Sarah and the baby in the future.” Before I could respond, Sarah let out a cold laugh and cut him off. “Are you serious? Look at him—he looks so pathetic. If he gets in the picture, he’ll just drag down the whole family’s image.” With that, she turned around and started walking toward the photography studio, not bothering to look back. “Hurry up, Thomas,” she called out impatiently. Thomas gave me a smug smile and patted me on the shoulder. “Well, we don’t want to hold you up, Brian. Good luck with the job hunt.” I watched them walk away, their laughter fading into the distance. From the outside, they must’ve looked like the picture-perfect family. If that was the life Sarah wanted, who was I to stand in her way? Letting go was the only gift I had left to give her. 4 Three days before I was set to leave, I received a message from the hospital director. He told me that the cardiologist I’d reached out to—a world-renowned expert—was in town for a medical conference. It was the perfect opportunity to have him examine Sarah’s father’s heart condition. Sarah’s father had always had heart issues. Years ago, he’d even been rushed to the ER for emergency surgery. While I was abroad for my medical training, I collected case studies and resources to help manage his condition. No matter what had happened between us, I still felt obligated to help. After all, years of being family couldn’t be erased overnight. I figured this would be my last act of goodwill before cutting ties with them completely. But when I told him about the appointment, his face darkened immediately. “Why on earth would I go to the hospital? Are you trying to curse me or something? That bypass surgery I had years ago was a success—what’s the point of another checkup?” “There’s a top cardiologist in town today,” I explained calmly. “It would be a good chance to get ahead of any potential issues—” Before I could finish, he hurled a water glass at me, the contents splashing across my shirt. “Cut the crap! You think a jobless bum like you could get an appointment with a top expert? Stop bragging! Thomas stayed up all night once to get me an appointment with a specialist. Where were you when I needed that?” Every word, every comparison to Thomas, made his opinion of me crystal clear. No matter what I did, I would always be wrong. No matter how hard I tried, I would never measure up to Thomas.

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Lucas and I had been bitter enemies for half our lives. On our deathbeds, we stared at each other, spitting out the most venomous words, hoping never to meet again in our next lives. He hated me for tying him down with marriage and children, robbing him of his chance to become a singer in New York. I despised him for his constant partying and drinking, leaving me to care for his sick parents and our two children. And in our mutual hatred, we were reborn. We locked eyes in the crowd, then turned away without hesitation. This time, we hoped, neither of us would have any regrets. The day I changed my college application, my dad walked into the study, glanced at me, and nodded approvingly. “Good. With your high scores, you should attend a top university! Stop chasing after that Wilson boy. What’s so great about him anyway?” My mom, hearing this from the kitchen, rushed in and pulled my dad away, giving him a stern look. I watched my parents leave, smiling, but suddenly felt a lump in my throat. In my previous life, I had run out late at night to find Lucas at the train station. My parents, searching for me, were killed by a drunk truck driver. I never got to see them one last time. Fighting back tears, I moved the mouse and clicked the confirm button to change my college application without hesitation.

In my previous life, Lucas, my childhood sweetheart, suddenly announced he wanted to become a singer and pursue his dreams in New York. But before that, he had always said being with me and attending the same college was his dream. I had even wasted my high score of over 600 points to apply to the same average college as him. But two days before the acceptance letters arrived, he suddenly said he was going to New York to chase his dreams. His sick parents, Mr. and Mrs. Wilson, came knocking on our door in the middle of the night, begging me to help find their son. In my previous life, I went. My parents, worried about me, followed and ended up in a car accident. Lucas was later found by me. When he heard his parents say that my parents’ deaths were his fault, they insisted he had to make it up to me. So they forced Lucas to get engaged to me, planning for us to marry right after college graduation. But I got pregnant in my sophomore year and had to take a break from school. We hastily got married, I went through pregnancy and childbirth, and took care of the baby. Two years flew by, and just as I was excitedly planning to return to school, his parents fell seriously ill and came to stay with us for treatment. Lucas told me to be understanding, saying his parents had already worked so hard for his education, and now they were sick and needed care. As for him, of course, he had to go to work to support the family. At the time, to save Lucas’s face, I didn’t mention that his monthly salary of $3,500 wasn’t even enough to cover the children’s formula and normal household expenses. Later, I had to sell our old house to pay for his parents’ medical bills and raise our two children. But while I gave up my education and struggled to manage the whole family, he was out making a bunch of fair-weather friends with his meager $3,500 salary. What little money he had left, he spent on making music, claiming he was fulfilling his dream. Crushed by the pressure of family life and after several failed attempts at communication, we started having huge fights. He began calling me bitter and narrow-minded, saying if it wasn’t for me forcing him to come back, he would have already become a big star in New York. He even accused me of using my parents’ death to emotionally blackmail him into marrying me. I didn’t hold back either, calling him delusional, saying his terrible voice made his dream of becoming a singer nothing but a pipe dream! When he brought up my parents’ death, I went crazy, lunging at him to shut him up, only to be violently pushed away. After that, Lucas deliberately started staying away from home. His parents, unable to see their son, blamed everything on me, complaining that I was immature and petty, only knowing how to anger their son. They completely forgot how they had begged me to find their son in the first place. In this miserable life, I gritted my teeth and tightened my belt to do odd jobs and earn money to support the family. But the children I had worked so hard to raise were never close to me, instead being affectionate towards the irresponsible Lucas. I thought the children would understand when they grew up, but I waited for over twenty years, until they were married with families of their own. But they competed to have Lucas live with them, while remaining cold and distant towards me. “Mom, you controlled us too much in the past. We don’t want to hear your lectures anymore.” “Dad’s youthful dreams were stifled by you. Now that he’s older, we want to take him to New York to chase his dreams again.” “Grandpa and Grandma were right. You just want everyone to live according to your plans. You’re so selfish!” I never expected my children to say such things. Devastated, I returned home to find Lucas smugly packing his bags, gloating that he was about to leave me for a better life. After dedicating over twenty years to this family, all I was left with was a reputation for being selfish and controlling. Why did Lucas get to be so carefree? Never taking care of the family or responsibilities, yet ending up as the open-minded father in our children’s eyes? I rushed forward and pushed Lucas. He was stunned for a moment, then immediately grabbed a vase and smashed it towards me. “Damn you, you dare to lay hands on me? I’ll beat you to death…” So our deaths were actually the consequence of our mutual assault. As we both fell to the ground, I was still praying in my heart: if there’s a next life, please don’t let me meet Lucas again.

The day I was reborn happened to be the day I changed my college application. Seeing my parents still by my side, I was determined not to get involved with anything related to Lucas again. After the college entrance exam, parties came one after another. I had just finished a gathering with close classmates when I saw Lucas in the distance, laughing and chatting with his buddies. “I heard Lucas isn’t going to college. He’s going to New York to be a singer!” “Wow, isn’t that the trendy thing now, chasing dreams in the big city? If he becomes a big star, should we ask for some autographed photos now to keep as investments?” “Ava, didn’t you grow up with Lucas? Did you know he was going to New York?” My friend nudged me, and my gaze happened to meet Lucas’s as he turned his head. With just that one look, I was certain that Lucas had also been reborn. “I don’t know. I have something to do. I’m leaving first.” I turned away without a second thought. If he wants to go to New York, let him go. What does his life have to do with me?

As the day of Lucas’s departure drew near, I whined to my parents about missing Grandma and wanting them to take me to see the new pony at her place. My parents always doted on me, so they packed up without hesitation and took me out. Just then, Mrs. Wilson opened her door and was surprised to see us leaving. “Going out?” My dad nodded with a smile, “The kid misses her grandma, so we’re going for a few days.” Mrs. Wilson smiled and nodded, watching us leave. I pretended to be nonchalant, but in reality, I was clenching my fists tightly in hatred, trying not to let my emotions show. It was laughable how in my previous life, I thought Mrs. Wilson truly cared for me. It wasn’t until later that I realized her intentions were never pure from the beginning. She had long had her eye on our house, which was why she worked so hard to bring Lucas and me together after my parents passed away. Back then, having lost my parents, I was crying every day. The gentle and good-natured Mrs. Wilson took care of me daily, making me let down all my defenses. Add to that my feelings for Lucas, and I naturally agreed. Little did I know that they had been planning this all along. I took a deep breath, hiding the slight trembling caused by my anger, and started chatting with my parents about Grandma’s new pony, while catching a glimpse of Lucas hurrying away out of the corner of my eye. Lucas must have realized that I had also been reborn, so he had to move up his plan to run away and chase his dreams. My parents and I had just arrived at Grandma’s house and were enjoying dinner when Mom received a call from Mrs. Wilson. “Lucas is insisting on going to New York to be a singer. He’s not going to college anymore. Now he’s acting like it’s a matter of life and death, and his father and I can’t talk him out of it… Could you ask Ava to come back and try to persuade him? After all, the two kids are close, and Lucas listens to Ava!” The script was almost identical to my previous life. Mom looked at me, a bit troubled. After all, it wasn’t easy to go back at this time from the countryside. I calmly put down my chopsticks and took the phone from Mom’s hand. “Mrs. Wilson, this is Lucas’s own decision. I have no right to interfere, and even if I did, he would resent me for it. I think you should respect his choice!” I hung up decisively, not forgetting to block Mrs. Wilson’s number. My swift series of actions left even my parents stunned. Grandma was the first to speak up, telling them to continue eating, muttering that other people’s business is their own karma, and we shouldn’t interfere. I thought Grandma’s words couldn’t be more right! After dinner, I was crouching in the yard, petting the dog’s soft head, when my parents came over. “Ava, what’s been going on with you lately…” Mom hesitated, “It feels like you’re different somehow.” Dad didn’t say anything, but he looked at me with concern. Their gaze made my nose tingle, and as I wiped my eyes, I realized there were actually tears. “Mom, Dad, let me tell you something. I had a dream.” I lied about having a dream and told them everything that happened in my previous life. When they learned that after their deaths, I had been manipulated by the Wilson family all along, Dad’s face turned as black as the bottom of a pot. They always believed me, especially since I said the story began with Lucas wanting to go to New York and Mrs. Wilson begging me to find him. They also understood why I suddenly wanted to come to Grandma’s house and why I adamantly refused to go find Lucas. “Oh, my dear child, my precious baby.” My mom was always easily moved to tears. Even though she knew it was just a dream, she quickly hugged me, her tears falling on my head one by one, feeling incredibly sorry for me. Dad lit a cigarette nearby and made a decision. “Ava having this dream might mean that the Wilson family is bad luck for us. I’ve decided, we’ll move as soon as we get back! Get far away from them.” I didn’t expect my parents to support me to this extent. My nose tingled, and I nodded tearfully. At the same time, I hugged Mom tighter, feeling her warmth. We stayed in the countryside for half a month, and I noticeably tanned quite a bit. When we left, Grandma packed a car full of food for us. We still had to live in the old house for a while before moving. As soon as we arrived at our front door, Mrs. Wilson quickly opened her door. With red, teary eyes, she looked at us, unable to hide the traces of resentment in her gaze.

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After my son started college, I gave him two thousand dollars each month for his living expenses. Once he got a girlfriend, he started complaining to me, “Mom, how can I possibly have a girlfriend on such a small budget? If you want a grandchild, you’ll need to send another two thousand!” So, I downloaded every loan app available and took out loans in his name to fund his lavish college lifestyle. This is because in a previous life, I sacrificed everything for my son. After he graduated, he refused to get a job, insisting that he needed to focus on life’s major events first—getting married and having children. My husband and I scraped together a down payment at the height of the housing market. But he couldn’t keep up with the payments and started physically abusing us, saying, “If you hadn’t bought such an expensive house for me, I wouldn’t be under so much pressure!” “I can’t pay it back; you make the money to pay it off, or I’ll give this house back to you!” I ended up taking on three jobs, eventually working myself into the grave. This time around, I decided to ruin his credit first. Let’s see how he plans to buy a house now.

“Mom, I’m out of money again this month. Could you send me some more?” “Send a thousand—no, make that two thousand. The cafeteria food is terrible; I’ve had a stomach ache for three days. Eating out is expensive, but at least it doesn’t make me sick.” It’s only the 10th, and my son’s calling again. He’s a sophomore now. The initial living expense was two thousand dollars, but in less than a year, he claimed it wasn’t enough. It increased to three thousand, and even then, it doesn’t last ten days. In the past, I would have lectured him for ten minutes about being thrifty because earning money isn’t easy. But this time, I said nothing. I calmly replied, “Alright, hang on a moment; Mom will get the money and send it to you.” Then I went to the app store, downloaded over ten loan apps, entered my son’s ID, and borrowed five thousand dollars. I sent him two thousand. There was no response, just a cold receipt confirmation. I took out a journal and noted the first loan of the day. All this because in a previous life, I painstakingly supported my son through college. He was determined to marry, bringing home a pregnant Daphne, and asking for a thirty thousand dowry. Plus, a two-million-dollar house. We didn’t have that kind of money, but seeing the young girl’s tearful face and hearing my son’s pleading, I relented. We borrowed from every relative, scraping together one hundred twenty thousand, including the thirty thousand dowry. The rest went towards the house down payment. My son was so touched. “Thank you, Mom and Dad. I will be filial for this life. You can just relax at home, play with your grandchild, and enjoy life.” We didn’t dare to enjoy; we tirelessly paid off the relatives’ debts. Just as we were about to catch our breath, my son came crying again. “Mom, help me, the mortgage is too much. I have to support a family and can’t manage it.” “Can you bear to see your son, grandchild, and daughter-in-law homeless?” “Please, you and Dad support us for a few years. When inflation rises and salaries increase, the pressure will ease.” My husband and I went out again, financially supporting their little family. But after two years, not only did my son’s salary not increase, but the housing market crashed, and the job market tightened. A house similar to my son’s in his neighborhood was listed at eighty thousand and still didn’t sell. I worried about their pressure, considering selling our current large house and buying a smaller one. The difference would help pay off my son’s mortgage. But instead, he lashed out at us. “If it weren’t for you buying such an expensive house, I wouldn’t be under so much pressure!” “I can’t pay it; you go make money to repay it, or I’ll give this house back to you!” I took another job, but while washing dishes, everything went black, and I collapsed.

After my body fell, my coworkers found me, and the boss called an ambulance immediately. But I knew I was already gone. I watched my husband’s hair turn completely white overnight. He held my photo every day, not cooking or going to work, no matter how my son abused him. Meanwhile, my son was very busy. He first dragged my corpse, leaving it in front of the boss’s shop for two days. When the boss didn’t give in, he hung a banner, banging drums every day. I watched helplessly as my son walked away with the fifty thousand the boss scraped together. He used the money to eat and drink with his wife and son. No one remembered my body was still on the street. In the end, a young man informed my husband to claim it. After my husband arranged for my cremation, he banged his head on my tombstone and died. When I woke up again, it was my son’s sophomore year. He had just secretly started dating, doubling his living expenses. But at this point, we still had savings, and my husband and I hadn’t retired. We lived frugally but managed. Still, I wasn’t that heartless. I just wanted to ruin his credit so he couldn’t get a mortgage. After graduation, I wouldn’t care about his life or death. After graduation, I listed our house online. But three months before he graduated, he brought Daphne home. Daphne, with her slightly protruding belly, timidly looked at me. “Hello, Auntie~” Just then, my son came in with a big bag of baby supplies. “Mom, Dad, this is Daphne, your daughter-in-law.” “Come on, call Mom. This is Dad. Don’t worry, my parents are very kind.” Seeing she was about to speak, I interrupted, “Please don’t. You’re not married yet. People will say we’re rude and bullying you.” “Dear, have a seat. I’ll get you some fruit.” At the dining table, I noticed Daphne kept giving my son meaningful looks, occasionally dry heaving. I pretended not to notice until my son couldn’t hold it in. “Mom, I came back to get married. Daphne is already carrying your grandchild.” I rolled my eyes. Last time, this grandchild didn’t even call me Grandma before I died. Every time he saw me, he treated me like trash, kicking or spitting. I thought he was just a child, plus I was busy working. I thought it was because I wasn’t like other grandmas who took their grandkids out to play, so I didn’t care. Thinking back now, this Daphne, who left such a good first impression, might not be as simple as I thought. “You’ve always taught me to be responsible as a man. Please contact Daphne’s parents and set a date.” Yes, I taught him to be good to his wife and kids, and he did that. But I also taught him to be filial, yet he wouldn’t even claim my body. “When are you and Dad available? I’ll talk to Daphne’s parents.” “I’m available anytime. You two decide and let us know in advance.”

Daphne was anxious but too embarrassed to speak, constantly tugging on my son’s sleeve. My son glanced at me as I took a sip of tea. “Mom, about the dowry, Daphne says it’s quite high there.” I replied, “Oh~” “Look, if Daphne weren’t pregnant, I wouldn’t rely on you.” “Don’t worry, I’ll consider it a loan. Once I graduate and start working, I’ll pay you back.” I sighed, “Oh, Guanghui, let me tell you the truth. Your university expenses have left us with no savings.” His face changed instantly, “I barely spend anything each month! Are you making excuses not to pay?” “What kind of parents don’t prepare a house and car for their son, only care about their own pleasure!” “If I can’t get married, don’t expect me to care for you in your old age.” “Rot away in your hovel!!” I smiled inwardly. This is my good son, who immediately changes his face when his parents won’t slave for him. My husband couldn’t stand it, wanting to say something, but I held his hand. “Son, it’s not that we don’t care. We had saved fifty thousand for you.” “But look at how much you’ve spent in college these years? Your monthly expenses are around twenty thousand. Since sophomore year, for three whole years.” “There was also a time you said you broke your leg and needed surgery. I sent you fifty thousand. In total, it’s fifty-two thousand.” “Your bride price was spent by you. Where can we get more dowry money?” He was speechless, his face flushed, “If you don’t want to give it, just say so. Why make so many excuses! How could I spend over fifty thousand just going to college?” “I’ve never seen parents like you. If you don’t care, my son won’t recognize you. He won’t have such stingy grandparents. You’re unworthy!” “Daphne, let’s go! I can take care of you myself!” “You two can keep your lousy money and live by yourselves!” After saying this, he slammed the door and left. Only Daphne looked back repeatedly, pitifully glancing at me. After my son left, my husband was a bit resentful. “Wife, don’t we still have savings? Why are you doing this to our son?” “Besides, nowadays, parents have to prepare a house and dowry for their son.” “I’ve never encountered parents like you before. Since you don’t seem to care, don’t expect my son to acknowledge you in the future. He doesn’t need grandparents as stingy as you. You’re not worthy!” “Lydia, let’s go! I can take care of you by myself!” “Just live your life with your pitiful money!” With that, he slammed the door and left. Only Daphne looked back at me, filled with pity with each step. After our son left, my husband grumbled a bit. “Dear, don’t we still have some savings? Why are you making it difficult for our son?” “Besides, these days, it’s expected that parents prepare a house and a dowry for their son’s marriage.” “Now look what happened, he doesn’t acknowledge us anymore, and we won’t even get to hold our grandson in the future. When we get old and sick, who’s going to take care of us?” I glanced at my soft-hearted husband and questioned him back. “Do you think we can rely on a son like that to take care of us when we’re ill?” He didn’t respond, and after a moment, he sighed. “Forget it; it’s just the two of us, and it’s quite nice without all the drama.” Isn’t it truly a hassle? In my past life, he didn’t even claim my body. He only used me as a tool to make money. We raised him for over twenty years, and it turned out to be less worthwhile than raising a dog. Just to be safe, I transferred most of our money to an account that neither my son nor my husband knows about. On the street, I saw a young man selling balloons in the cold wind. I was momentarily stunned; his face looked exactly like the young man who claimed my body in the past life. Though it’s early spring now, the temperature is still low. He wore a thin black jacket. His face and nose were red from the cold. Because in my previous life, I wandered for a long time after dying, I knew he had no parents. At home, there was only an elderly grandmother, but she was not in good health and often fell ill. Therefore, he had to use all his time to work. In my spare time, I found his school, contacted his teacher, and quietly supported him. His name is Ezra, and he’s now a college sophomore. He has excellent grades, winning scholarships every year, and his tuition is waived. But due to his grandmother’s health, life is still tough. I knew Jude wouldn’t let things go easily, considering he hadn’t graduated yet; how could he support a wife and child? But I didn’t expect him to change his attitude so quickly. Within a week, he was inviting us to a hotel dinner on Sunday night. I refused, but my husband was too soft-hearted. After all, we raised the child ourselves. Parents can’t just stand by and do nothing when it comes to such significant life events. I couldn’t persuade him, so I had to attend, letting him see the true nature of our son. As soon as I entered, the strong smell of smoke hit me. A young man in his twenties with slicked-back hair had his feet on the table, holding a cigarette. A middle-aged woman with heavy makeup saw me but said nothing, speaking instead to the boy. “Sit up straight, people are here.” After a while, our son came in. A female voice rang out. “Let’s be clear, we want a dowry of 300,000, not a penny less.” “After all, we raised our daughter so well, we’re not giving her away for free. 300,000 isn’t much at all.” “She’s carrying your family’s first grandson.” “And there must be a house; my daughter won’t live with in-laws! You need to prepare a big house, at least 100 square meters.” “Otherwise, how can we visit our daughter in the future?”

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The day I was diagnosed with kidney failure, my wife, Lydia, was celebrating the release of her first love, Asher Williams, from prison. And on the day I passed away, Lydia and Asher jetted off to a tropical island together. She often hurled insults at me, saying, “You filthy pig farmer, go die somewhere far away.” Yet when I actually died, she lost her mind and cut off Asher’s hand, screaming, “Give me back my husband’s healthy body!” How ironic. She had never once called me her husband before. Love that arrives too late is truly pitiful. 0 After two grueling days at the farm, I received a call from the doctor. His voice was somber, confirming what I had already suspected. Leaning against the fold-out bed in the break room, I caught a glimpse of myself in the window’s reflection. My shirt was drenched in sweat, and my face was swollen, almost unrecognizable. Wes, my colleague, came in with a pot of water. He hesitated before speaking, “Brother Michael, why don’t you head home to rest? Your absence for days might worry your wife, Lydia.” Would Lydia really be concerned? I mulled over his words, a bitter smile crossing my lips. If I vanished, she might just relish her newfound freedom. I checked my phone: three ads for loans, two scam warnings, and a missed call from my mother. I called her back. She asked about my health check-up. In simple terms: death was knocking at my door. One kidney was already gone, and the remaining one was failing. The doctor insisted I needed immediate dialysis. But I didn’t tell her the truth. Five years ago, after being stabbed, losing a kidney, my mother couldn’t sleep, her hair turning gray almost overnight as she searched for a kidney for me. What was Lydia doing then? She cried every day at the hospital, pleading leniency for the man who stabbed me—her first love, Asher Williams. She claimed the Williams family wanted to settle privately, urging me to let it go. Five million. That was the price for my half-year hospital stay, two brushes with death, and a lost kidney. Back then, it felt like a fortune. I still remember Lydia’s expression when I refused to settle. She looked at me like I was the one who had been stabbed, glaring at her enemy. Finally, she spoke with humiliation, “What good does it do to oppose Asher Williams? His family is powerful; can you compete? Since you like me, let’s get married, and you take the settlement.” In the end, I seemed like the villain bullying a girl, while Asher was her childhood sweetheart. Yet back then, I was overjoyed. I even thought trading a kidney for love was worth it. But reality was harsh. Lydia quickly married me, and I took the settlement money. Still, Asher Williams was sentenced to five years. When Lydia found out, she called me shameless. I didn’t argue. It was already a light sentence. But she blamed it all on me. If I hadn’t pandered to her, she wouldn’t have stayed with someone as shameless as me. I was drowning in bitter memories when a bank alert woke me up. [Your account 8174 spent 678 RMB on a travel website on August 25 at 7:25 AM…] I frowned. This was Lydia’s card; she frequently used it for travel. The date made me uneasy. I called her, and after a long wait, she answered. I heard a taxi driver’s voice in the background. My heart sank, “Where are you going?” “Why do you care?” she replied, her tone impatient. “I’m your husband!” I shouted, for the first time raising my voice at her. “Are you going to see Asher Williams? He nearly killed me, and you still can’t let him go?” My words struck a nerve, triggering an explosive reaction in Lydia. She sneered, “You deceitful scoundrel, what right do you have to meddle in my affairs with him?” My vision blurred, my temples pounding, “I’ll work hard to give you a better life, just don’t go to him… I’m not feeling well…” “You filthy pig farmer, go die somewhere far away.” The call ended abruptly. Wes hurried over, calling my name. As I fainted, one thought lingered. If I truly died, would Lydia be sad? 0

When I regained consciousness, the familiar scent of disinfectant filled my nose. My mother was outside the door, crying softly. She knew about my condition. I wondered how much more her hair would turn white this time. I sighed silently. My sister was comforting her. I wanted to get up and see them, but my body felt like it was pierced by spikes, unable to move. The sound of the dialysis machine was my lifeline. Not long after, I heard my sister making a call. “Lydia, my brother is in a coma in the hospital, and you’re out having fun. Do you even have a heart?” I didn’t hear the response, but my sister was furious. “My brother could have raised a dog for five years and developed feelings for it. If it weren’t for him, you would have been ruined by Asher Williams five years ago. How do you even deserve to be my sister-in-law?” Her voice faded away. I recalled the life-and-death struggle in the hospital. Five years, over eighteen hundred days, and I couldn’t warm her heart. The idea of time breeding affection was just a consolation for the disillusioned. How laughable. During the week I spent recovering in the hospital, my mother and sister took turns staying with me. I tried to forget everything related to Lydia. When Wes brought the farm’s accounts to me, my sister scolded him harshly. “You’ve been with my brother for three years; haven’t you learned anything? Even if my brother turns to ashes, you have to burn paper for him and ask how to handle a sow’s premature birth, right?” I smiled, making “ho ho” sounds, trying to smooth things over. Wes was solid and reliable, and my sister was almost ready to marry him; I didn’t want to cause a rift because of myself. During this time, Lydia called. My sister was on high alert. I stared at the flashing number, deep in thought, and wrote a note on the whiteboard for my sister to relay. The call connected, and her familiar soft voice came through: “What do you want?” After waking up, I called her over ten times, but she never answered. Now, she finally remembered me. My sister snorted coldly: “You’re really busy; we won’t serve you anymore. Just divorce my brother and get out of the Johnson family.” There was a long pause on the other end, “Let Michael Johnson tell me that himself. If there’s nothing else, I’ll hang up. I’ll be back on Sunday, tell him not to pick me up.” “Lydia, you…” I patted my sister, calming her down. She leaned on the bed, upset. “Brother, make sure she leaves with nothing. Asher Williams is out, and Lydia deserves a jerk for a match. “Brother, you have to be okay, wait for Lydia to regret it, and slap her hard in the face.” She forced a smile, but her eyes, swollen like walnuts, were brimming with tears. Both kidneys failed, along with acute heart failure. I became a mummy on the hospital bed, skin gray, unable to speak or walk. The only thing I could give Lydia was the freedom she always wanted. The lawyer soon came to finalize the divorce agreement, including my will. When I could no longer sit up, I refused dialysis and wanted to be discharged. The house was filled with new roses. On Valentine’s Day, Lydia threw aside the bag I gave her, saying everyone else had 999 roses. Later I bought roses, and she scolded me for having no originality, tossing them all away. I knew she liked them, so I picked them up and kept them alive. In college, I also gave her roses, and she happily kissed me. Like clouds brushing across my cheek, leaving a blush. Then Asher Williams appeared, and my world was shrouded in darkness. Roses wilt without water; she wouldn’t see them when she returned. My sister tearfully called me an idiot. I stopped breathing at the end of summer, dying in the twentieth year of knowing Lydia. Flashes of memories crossed my mind, recalling many moments with her. In elementary school, I held her hand to buy candy at the store. In middle school, I helped her with math, and she playfully distracted me with fruit. In college, I pulled her out of a club, and she slapped me, telling me to get lost… 0

It turns out, even in death, I could see myself. I floated in the air, seeing someone lying in the living room, face ashen and swollen like a bloated corpse. I was glad Lydia didn’t see how I looked when I died, thinking this, my soul suddenly drifted to her side. Whenever she returned from a trip, I used to pick her up. This time, she didn’t want me to come because she was with Asher Williams. They were laughing and talking at the airport, not looking like they just returned. Asher had a buzz cut, wore casual clothes, still looking sharp and arrogant. When he looked at Lydia, there was a strong sense of possession in his eyes. Their destination was Hawaii. While I was suffering from illness, they went on a tropical getaway. I couldn’t help but follow Lydia. Asher joked about carrying Lydia’s bag, which she dodged. “Why didn’t you bring the bag I gave you? This bag looks really ugly, did Michael Johnson give it to you? He hasn’t called you in days, is he mad because you came to see me?” Lydia frowned, “Don’t mention him.” Asher’s face lit up with a smug smile, “My bad, I shouldn’t mention the man who stole five years from us. I remember you saying you wanted your honeymoon to be in Hawaii, now our reunion trip isn’t too late.” During my struggle with illness, Lydia and Asher went on a couple’s getaway to an island. I found myself unable to stop tracking Lydia’s actions. Asher Williams cheerfully offered to carry Lydia’s bag, but she sidestepped him. “Why aren’t you using the bag I gave you? This one looks terrible. Did Michael Johnson give it to you? He hasn’t called you in days. Is he upset because you came to see me?” Lydia frowned, “Don’t bring him up.” Asher smirked, “My bad, I shouldn’t have mentioned the guy who took five years from us. I remember you once said you wanted to honeymoon in Hawaii. It’s not too late for our reunion trip now.” Lydia didn’t argue, but she kept glancing at her phone before boarding. Her calendar app reminded her that my birthday was in three days. I had set it up on her phone a month ago after much persuasion. Lydia impatiently swiped away the reminder and boarded the plane with Asher. To them, I was the thief who stole five years of their life. She despised me so much that she didn’t even want to speak my name. I remembered when we first got married, I was so joyful. Even while lying in a hospital bed, I couldn’t wait to plan our honeymoon. I filled a book with plans, including all her favorite foods, hoping to take her to the snowy mountains and grasslands she longed to see. But before I could show her all my love and anticipation, she found my plan book, tore it to pieces, and called me delusional. My joy and love were shredded and trampled under her feet. At that time, my beautiful dream had just begun. How could I let go of the only leading lady in my dream? But reality taught me that unrequited love leads nowhere good. 0

Asher brought Lydia to stay at a beach hotel. To my surprise, a third person joined them on the trip. It was Joan, Lydia’s best friend from college. Through Joan, Asher met Lydia and pursued her relentlessly. Joan mingled in these circles hoping to snag a wealthy husband, and Asher was one of her targets, leading to a fallout between her and Lydia. Back when Asher orchestrated a trap at the club to win over Lydia, Joan tipped me off, which led to my dramatic confrontation at the club. But now, Lydia happily welcomed Joan. Asher’s expression soured. Joan rushed over to hug Lydia, and her eyes gleamed like a bear spotting honey when she glanced at Asher. “Lydia, it’s been ages! How did you know I was dying to come to Hawaii?” As she spoke, her gaze lingered on Asher. Joan’s arrival was unexpected for Asher. The romantic candlelight dinner for two turned into a table for three. Asher ordered sea urchin sashimi for Lydia and wanted to feed her intimately. “Try this, we have plenty of time. I just ordered a cake to celebrate our reunion.” Lydia stiffened for a moment, staring at the dish as if lost in thought. She avoided Asher and said flatly, “Sorry, I’m allergic to seafood. You have it.” I watched her push away the plate of sea urchins and felt it was ironic. The one allergic to seafood was actually me. Lydia used to love seafood, but after we got married, I knew she had a cold uterus, so I often made soup for her and reminded her to eat less seafood. She found my nagging annoying. Now, without my interference, why would she use such a poor excuse to restrict herself? Asher’s face fell. Joan covered her mouth, laughing, eyes full of ridicule, giving Asher an out, “Lydia probably hasn’t had such a seafood feast in a long time. Don’t force it, Asher.” Lydia frowned and focused on cutting the cake. Asher grabbed her hand, “Lydia, how did you burn your hand? That useless Michael, he’ll just stay raising pigs in the countryside forever. You should’ve waited for me.” I instinctively wanted to smack his hand away, but my body passed through their clasped hands. Lydia shook off Asher, “It’s none of your business. Don’t touch me.” “Touch you?” Asher sneered, eyes brewing a storm, “If Michael hadn’t caused trouble and gotten stabbed by me, you’d have been with me long ago. I went to jail for five years because of him!” Lydia stopped, and Asher smiled triumphantly. The atmosphere at the table was tense, and Lydia was forced to drink a lot. Asher moved closer to Lydia, and she didn’t refuse. I felt bitter, but powerless to stop it. Without my interference, they were meant to be together. But the expected result didn’t happen. Asher was the first to get drunk. Lydia, with hazy eyes, looked at Joan, “Joan, we agreed on this…” Joan sneered, “I don’t know what spell you’re under. Asher doesn’t mind being a homewrecker…” Lydia wobbled to stand, and Joan quickly summoned a waiter to help her back to her room. She lay in bed, tapping away on her phone for a while, and sent me a message. 0 Soon, Lydia fell asleep, and I stared at the message. The previous message in our chat was from ten days ago when I told her I had to work overtime at the farm. Going back through dozens of messages, most were me reminding her to eat at work, or delivering warming soup during her period. If she was in a good mood, she’d reply once. Most messages went unanswered. This time, she proactively messaged me about her itinerary. I should be happy, but I can no longer reply to her. In the middle of the night, Lydia’s phone rang, and her sister’s choked voice came through, “Lydia, my brother is dead. Are you satisfied now? “When he was alive, you treated him coldly. Now he’s gone, you won’t even come back to see him?”

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My husband is a lawyer, renowned for his dedication to justice and his kind demeanor. Yet, in an attempt to clear the name of his first love, he personally disposed of a disfigured female body by throwing it off a cliff. Unbeknownst to him, that body belonged to his wife, who was five months pregnant. What he also didn’t know is that I’m a System Strategy Woman, and I have an uncanny ability to survive. The night was engulfed in a torrential downpour, washing over the ground. My body lay on the asphalt road, my face unrecognizable, blood mingling with the mud, forming a stream, though the source of the bleeding was not apparent. The man hesitated, conflicted. But soon, he donned gloves, lifted my head, and began dragging me to the roadside. This road ran along a mountain, with a sheer cliff at its edge. This man was my husband, Finn. Two hours earlier, his childhood sweetheart had called him. Nora’s voice was frantic, as she cried for his help: “Finn, I hit someone. What should I do? I’m terrified.” He rushed over. Upon arrival, he immediately embraced the trembling Nora in the car, comforting her: “Nora, don’t worry, I’m here, I’m here.” Nora sobbed uncontrollably, eventually calming down: “Finn, I went up the mountain to pray for your mother today. I didn’t expect to hit someone at this turn, and there was so much blood, sob sob…” Finn gently patted her back, soothing her softly: “It’s alright, it’s alright, I’m here.” The rain had soaked the body, making it much heavier. Finn dragged me until he stumbled over a stone and fell heavily onto me. Seeing my blood-streaked face, he was so frightened that he staggered back several steps, his throat clenching. Finn crouched on the ground, dry heaving. After a while, he dragged the body to the edge of the cliff. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and hurled the body off the cliff. Finn leaned over to peer into the dark abyss below, clutching his chest as he exhaled deeply. That night, he took Nora back to the mountain temple to stay for the night. They felt the relief of surviving the ordeal. Nora smiled sweetly, giving him a gentle kiss on the cheek: “Finn, I knew you always cared for me the most.” Finn’s expression was a bit stiff, but his gaze at Nora was as gentle as a calm sea.

A week later, my body drifted ashore on the riverbank. By the time an old fisherman discovered it, the body was severely decomposed and bloated. “A body was found at Clear River!” The news spread online. Finn was aware of the news early on. But he was more preoccupied with having someone destroy the car from that night. His assistant knocked and entered, hesitating before handing him a vehicle registration. “Attorney Finn, while handling the cars, I found that one of the license plates belongs to your wife.” Finn’s eyes flashed with panic for a moment, then he decisively said: “It must be Eloise! She hired someone to frame Nora for murder.” He quickly took out his phone to call me. He dialed several times, but no one answered. The silence around him was thick, Finn’s expression stiffened, his hand clenched tightly. With a “crack!” the phone shattered on the ground. “She made such a big mistake herself and still dares not to answer the phone!” My soul heard those words and chuckled coldly. What a pity, he almost realized I was dead. The System couldn’t help but mock: This jerk must be insane, they’re a perfect match like a toilet and its lid! The front desk called, saying Nora had arrived. Nora sat comfortably on the sofa, smiling at Finn: “Finn, I made your favorite Sweet and Sour Ribs today.” Finn’s expression was unnatural, somewhat distracted. I had also made him Sweet and Sour Ribs before. Back then, to learn how to make it well, I begged the chef from his favorite restaurant for a long time. As a cooking novice, I didn’t know how many blisters I got on my hands. It took a whole year to finally make something he could eat. Nora affectionately pulled his arm, leaning her entire body against him. Finn hated it when I clung to him like this, he said it made it impossible for him to work or eat. “Not bad, Nora could be a chef.” The woman acted coy, murmuring: “No way, I only want to cook for you.” What a sickeningly sweet pair of a scumbag and a wench. The System was annoyed: So irritating, so irritating, what did you see in him back then? I pressed my lips together, forcing a smile: “Probably blind.”

I was indeed blind. I’m a System Career Strategy Woman, and my task here was to help Finn successfully take control of the Finn Family. Finn is an illegitimate child that Asher Finn secretly raised without his wife’s knowledge. The Finn Family has always been strict, and all children are from the legitimate wife. However, Dahlia’s womb was uncooperative, only giving birth to a daughter. Before Asher Finn passed away, he confessed the truth about the illegitimate child. Old Mr. Finn, considering the father-son relationship and feeling for the Finn Family’s bloodline being left outside. Finn was brought back to the Finn Family. But due to his awkward status, he was always excluded from the Finn Family. The first time I met Finn was in the hospital. He had just survived a car accident. His biological mother’s ashes were secretly hidden by Mrs. Finn. He developed Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, becoming irritable and restless. Like a frightened fawn. I felt sorry for him, so I deliberately got close, accompanying him to recover. From being an unnoticed, easily oppressed illegitimate child to now the Finn Family’s leader. Finn realized his dream, establishing a law firm. His reputation spread, known as a champion of justice. I forcefully intervened in his life, becoming his dependence. I stayed with him for seven years. In those seven years, not only did he become accustomed to me, but I also genuinely fell for him. So when the System reminded me that my strategy task was complete, I stayed. Because that pure-hearted boy told me I was his only love, his true love for life. When he clumsily and awkwardly recited his marriage vows, saying he wanted to have a family with me, I didn’t hesitate for a moment. I knew his biggest heartache was his biological mother’s ashes. I used every connection to help him find them, negotiating with Mrs. Finn. I still remember risking my life to find his mother’s ashes. Finn was as fragile as a child, holding the ashes and crying for a long time. At that time, the way he looked at me was as gentle as the sea, sickeningly sweet. I thought his love would never disappear.

On the eighth day of my disappearance, the hospital couldn’t find me, so they called my emergency contact. When Finn received the call, he was momentarily stunned, but quickly returned to his normal demeanor. “Lydia has been sick these days, resting at home. Please handle the paperwork on this end.” The face of the Finn Family’s leader was effective. The person on the other end repeatedly agreed and even specifically advised me to rest well before returning to work, no rush. Finn stared at the phone for a long time, somewhat distracted, then murmured to himself: “It’s been so long, there’s a limit to sulking, not even a single call, truly heartless.” He opened my profile, scrolling through the chat history. Looking at recent messages, mostly me expressing concern for him, only to receive an “OK” gesture emoji or read without response. Opening the contacts, the call log still showed the several missed calls I made to him over a week ago. Finn had changed, becoming increasingly impatient. Even communicating with him had become very difficult. I ironed his suit the night before, but the next day he left wearing another one. Before he went out, I reminded him: “It’s raining today, remember to take an umbrella.” He frowned, impatiently saying: “Oh.” But left the umbrella at the entrance. The photo in the living room was the first picture we took after dating. He was looking at me, I was looking at the camera, smiling brightly. But after being torn and glued back, the people in the photo looked a bit eerie. He looked at it for a long time, then took out the original from his phone, instructing his assistant to print a new one. A broken mirror can’t be made whole again, so why pretend to be deeply in love with me? Without my interference, he should be happier.

At a gathering, someone invited a group of beauties to liven things up. Only Finn sat in the corner, his finger fixed on our chat window, scrolling through the messages. Wesley leaned over, and Finn instinctively turned off the phone screen. “Hey Finn, what’s up? Fighting with your wife?” “How about I call her, women just need a little coaxing.” Finn picked up a glass of wine, his expression indifferent: “Drink.” Finn ended up drinking too much, mumbling incessantly. Wesley called me many times, but no one answered. He asked Finn: “What do we do if your wife doesn’t answer?” Finn lay back on the sofa, eyes closed, finally whispering: “Nora, Nora…” I sat there expressionlessly, coldly watching him. A sharp pain pricked the deepest part of my heart. Nora arrived quickly, originally intending to take Finn to a hotel room. But drunk Finn insisted on going home. Back home, Nora helped Finn to the bed, affectionately feeding him water. She quickly stripped off her clothes, snuggling up to him. Finn held her tightly, murmuring softly: “Why did it take so long to come back.” Just when I thought there’d be a scene I didn’t want to see, Finn suddenly pushed Nora away. His eyes were clearer: “Nora?” Nora’s expression was suggestive, continuing to cling to him: “It’s me, Finn.” “They say the heavens can’t beat a Childhood Sweetheart, we’re the original pair.” Nora continued to provoke: “Why can’t you just face your feelings?” When I got home, Nora helped Finn to the bed and gently gave him a glass of water. Then she quickly stripped her clothes and nestled close to him. Finn held her tightly, murmuring softly, “Why did you take so long to come back?” Just when I thought things might get more intense, Finn suddenly pushed Nora away. His eyes cleared a bit as he asked, “Nora?” With a suggestive look, Nora stayed close to him, saying, “It’s me, Brother Finn.” “People say that destiny can’t surpass a childhood bond; we’re meant to be together.” Nora continued to provoke him, “Why can’t you acknowledge your true feelings?” Hearing this made my stomach churn with disgust. A destiny that can’t surpass a childhood bond—what about the destiny that’s lost? Before pursuing Finn, I was well aware of his social circle. Nora was the daughter of his family’s housekeeper. She grew up with him, and because of Finn’s protection, she was able to attend the prestigious school she dreamed of. She enjoyed privileges like a young lady, all because when she first arrived at the Finn Family’s home, she was the only one who approached him. Before agreeing to be with Finn, I cautiously asked him, “Have you ever liked anyone else?” He answered directly, “No.” He even voluntarily explained his female friends, mentioning Nora himself. “She’s my housekeeper’s daughter. We were close as kids, but she went abroad, and we lost touch. If anything, we’re just friends.” He earnestly told me, “Lydia, I know the difference between love and friendship.” But after Nora returned to the country, he spent my birthday shopping with her. He let her post ambiguous messages on Twitter. The comments were filled with shippers. “My dear Nora deserves it! Finn is the one who’s lucky.” “Aw, secretly showing PDA again. I love childhood sweetheart stories.” “I knew Nora came from an extraordinary family and knew the heir of the Finn Family since childhood.” “Mom and Dad, I’m born!” Holding my phone, I confronted him. Finn nonchalantly explained, “Nora is an influencer; she needs me for marketing, to increase followers and hype.” With tears in my eyes, I questioned him in shock, “Do you know how much trouble your marketing has caused me?” Finn and I had been in love for seven years, and our friends and family knew it. We had plenty of photos together. Because of this hype, people dug up our photos and doxxed my personal information. They even came to my hospital to cause a scene, disrupting public order. I was forced to become the “homewrecker” in the eyes of others. In the end, Finn reluctantly compromised and dealt with some of the troublemakers at the hospital. That night, Nora posted content saying, “Just joking~” But those words only seemed like a couple’s playful banter. In many choices between me and Nora, Finn chose Nora. I’ve seen how he loved me, so how could I not see when he didn’t? The day Finn successfully took over the Finn Family, we planned to celebrate at a bar. At first, he kept fiddling with his phone, and I worried that he had something urgent. He said he was just replying to work messages. I was reassured. After a few drinks, Finn looked at me with deep affection: “Lydia, I’m so lucky to have met you. I’ll love you well in this life, the next, and the one after that…” I was moved to tears and joked, “If one day you don’t love me anymore, just tell me. We can part on good terms without any entanglement.” But later, I found out that the messages that day were sent to Nora. He feared she might lack food or clothing and sent her fifty thousand without a second thought. People who betray genuine feelings deserve to face harsh consequences. But I clearly said that if you stop loving me, just let me know. If you don’t love, why hurt? My thoughts drifted back as Finn listened to Nora’s sweet words, dazed for a moment but still avoided her tender gaze, replying hoarsely, “Nora, you should go back.” The next day, Finn’s hand instinctively reached out beside him, waking up in shock. He carefully looked around the slightly empty house, his gaze landing on a sticky note on the fridge. Both Finn and I have busy work schedules and often don’t check our phones. Whenever I head out, I always write down my whereabouts on a sticky note. The newest sticky note read: “I’m going to the mountain to pray for mom. I’ll be back tonight.” He quickly shifted his gaze, lips pursed, “She knows to leave a note but doesn’t know to come back quickly!” He had been on a business trip for many days, so he hadn’t seen these sticky notes. Just a few steps away, a glance at the sticky note, and he would have known the truth. After a night of a hangover, Finn’s stomach problem subtly flared up. He opened the drawer and found the medicine I had prepared for him. Inside was an agreement that caught his attention. It was a divorce agreement with the woman’s signature, which I had planned to discuss with him after returning from the mountain. I thought this was what he wanted too. Finn, in a rage, tore up the agreement, his breathing becoming heavier, and made numerous calls to me that went unanswered. He clenched his fists and slammed the coffee table hard. It shattered, a piece of glass piercing his hand, blood pooling on the floor. With eyes wide open, he shouted into the air, “Joan, dare to play hard to get with me? If you have the guts, don’t ever come back!” With his stomach acting up, he stayed home to rest for two days. Nora called him, but he didn’t answer. Nora came to see him, but he wouldn’t meet her. Unshaven and locked in his room, he kept calling me. Inside, I felt nothing, just fed up. I asked the system: When can I leave? “Host, the time tunnel entrance is being repaired, specific time unknown.” I watched as Finn opened our chat box again, thought for a long time, and sent me a Snapchat. “Lydia, come back when you’re done being mad. Let’s start over.” “I don’t hate you anymore.” Oh, right, he hated me. I had painstakingly retrieved his birth mother’s ashes from Mrs. Finn, which had mysteriously disappeared. In the end, it was Nora who risked her life to recover them. Nora knew I was a strategy woman, and my appearance beside Finn was too coincidental. She used this to convince Finn that I was someone Mrs. Finn had placed by his side. He believed her. No matter how I explained, He gripped my neck tightly, eyes filled with cold sarcasm. “I never thought you’d hide so deeply, Joan!” “Joan, how dare you? It’s as easy for me to deal with you as crushing an ant.” …… Now, Finn’s hypocritical act is truly nauseating. I really wonder if the beautiful, weak, and tragic boy from back then was truly him? Finn was still immersed in his deep role when he suddenly received a call from Nora. Nora trembled as she spoke, “Brother Finn, the police summoned me because of that night. What…do I do? I’m so scared.” “As long as I’m here, you’ll be fine.” Finn went to the police station. As a lawyer who upholds justice, he helped Nora fabricate evidence. He claimed that he was with Nora that night. He spent a lot of money to find a scapegoat, successfully clearing Nora’s name. After all the fuss, Finn returned home in the early hours. Lying on the couch, half asleep, he was awakened by a phone call in the middle of the night. “Hello, is this Mr. Finn? We are from the City Police Station. After DNA testing, a female corpse has been identified as your wife, Joan. We need you to come over for more details.” He was silent for a moment, then laughed mockingly, “What kind of joke is this? My wife went on a trip out of anger.” “I’m a lawyer, if you continue to curse or slander my wife, I have the right to sue you.” Finn eventually went to the police station. When he arrived at the morgue, I was completely naked, covered by a white cloth. He trembled as he slowly lifted the cloth, little by little. My originally bloodied and blurry face was pale, unrecognizable. My body was covered in scars, my abdomen unnaturally swollen. The coroner explained beside him, “The body was in a car accident before death, with multiple knife wounds on the face. The fatal wound was in the abdomen, causing death from blood loss.” The coroner hesitated before continuing, “There was a stillborn in the abdomen, estimated to be over five months.” The police officer comforted, “The suspect has been identified and confessed to the car accident. We believe the case will be resolved soon.” “Impossible.”

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After witnessing the agony my mother endured when she severed ties with my father, who had an affair, she taught me one undeniable lesson—never trust a man. That all changed when Damien appeared. To claim me, Damien gave me his liver. He became my mate, and for a time, our life was bliss. He poured everything into our family. But everything shattered the day I discovered something on his computer. I experienced the searing pain of breaking bonds with my mate. Years later, I returned, opening a café. Every morning, a letter quietly awaited me at the door. I picked it up, read nothing, and tossed it into the trash. Damien—my former mate—your late love means nothing now. Wasn’t that what you taught me, too? Once, Damien and I were the perfect mates in everyone’s eyes. We met in college when we were both dirt poor, scraping by on part-time jobs and late-night instant noodles. My parents divorced when I was seven. My mother tried to shield me from the truth, but I knew. That day is seared into my memory. She had come home early from a business trip, her heels clicking rhythmically on the tiles as she stepped through the door. She paused at the bedroom door—her breath catching as the unmistakable sounds of laughter drifted down the hallway. And then… she saw it. My father, strong and imposing, wrapped in the arms of his secretary—her perfume sickly sweet, mingling with the scent of betrayal that filled the room. Their bodies tangled beneath the sheets—his sheets—the ones my mother had slept in for over a decade,. His lips on her neck, her hands on him. My mother stood there in the doorway, her heart breaking in real-time. She didn’t scream. She didn’t yell. She simply… fell. She quietly wove the threads of the mate bond they shared—threads that had once been strong enough to tie them together for life—into the fabric of her past. In those first few hours, while he was still fumbling through his apologies, my mother quietly arranged the dissolution of everything he thought he had a claim to. The house, the money, the family name—all became hers. “You are no longer my mate. ” “Leave,” she commanded, her voice sharp enough to cut through the thick air of the room. “And never return.” I watched, hidden in the shadows, as my father left. The door clicked shut. Then, silence. I saw my mother crumble. Her wolf, once fierce, collapsed, its spirit torn from her. Her knees hit the floor, her body folding like a broken animal. She gasped, her shoulders shaking, arms clinging to herself as if to hold her soul together. In that moment, I understood—breaking mate bonds was as painful as tearing a wolf apart. That year, I was seven. She always thought I didn’t know. But the truth was as clear to me as the scars on my heart. Years passed, and my mother, ever strong, raised me alone. By the time I was in my second year of college, the burden had taken its toll. My mother, once vibrant and full of life, began to fade. Her wolf grew weaker with every passing day. She was always tired, always lost in the weight of her own thoughts. And then, one cold winter evening, she stepped into the street, unaware of the oncoming car. It hit her hard, sending her flying. She never woke up. At twenty years old, I was left alone. My mother was gone. It was also the year I met Damien. We crossed paths at a student council event. He was the host, tall and commanding, with a presence that made the room go still. I couldn’t help but glance at him more than once. And those brief moments of eye contact were enough for him to notice me. From that day on, he pursued me relentlessly. Damien was persistent, his charm undeniable. He’d appear at my side in class, offering help with assignments, his dark eyes always watching me, his every move calculated to draw me in. Because of my past, I’d built walls around my heart. when he asked me to be his mate, I rejected him without a second thought. “I can’t be your mate. I won’t be.” I thought he would eventually take the hint and give up, after all, that’s what all my previous suitors did. But he didn’t. From sophomore year to senior year, and even after I started my internship, he never stopped pursuing me. I couldn’t help but feel a little touched by his persistence. But the more kind he was to me, the less confidence I had. Because, back then, my father had treated my mother just as well.

Although my mother has passed away, as a strong and independent woman, she left me a substantial inheritance. This money is enough to cover my tuition, living expenses, and even if I wanted to study abroad, it would be more than sufficient. Having suffered because of men, my mother feared I would repeat the same mistakes. So, she entrusted the money to a trustee. Every year, I could withdraw a portion, but I wouldn’t be able to access the full amount until my monthly income exceeded the average withdrawal amount she left for me, and remained stable for two years. I understand why she did this. When my mother married my father, it was purely a downward marriage. My grandparents were so furious that they severed ties with her. My stubborn mother packed a suitcase and left with my father without a backward glance. Then, using her years of pocket money, she bought a house. From that point on, she never contacted her parents again. When I was little, I asked her, “Mom, don’t you miss your parents?” At that moment, my mother’s face grew pale, and she fell silent for a long time before replying, “Your grandmother and grandfather can’t look at me anymore. ” Then, holding me close, she said, “Elly, all men in this world are untrustworthy. I don’t want you to suffer like I did. I hope you’ll have the chance to regret your choices.” This money, it was my mother’s way of giving me the chance to regret. So, even after I married Damien, I never told him about the money. I knew that this money was my mother’s way of ensuring my security, so I silently made a decision: unless absolutely necessary, I would try not to touch it. At the time when Damien met me, I was living on a tight budget. When I didn’t have classes, I would go out and take part-time jobs to earn my living expenses. Because of this, he always believed my financial situation was the same as his. Looking back now, I wonder—if Damien had known that I wasn’t actually struggling financially, perhaps he wouldn’t have pursued me. What he wanted wasn’t someone with an independent personality, but rather someone who needed to cling to him like a parasite. But at the time, I hadn’t realized that. He chased me for three years, confessed to me forty times. At first, I rejected him outright. Then, I couldn’t bear to keep saying no, so I allowed those around us to say we were a couple without correcting them. I craved the feeling of being chosen, of being wanted that badly. The forty-first time he confessed, I said yes. Why? Because that year, I fell ill. And Damien, without hesitation, donated his liver to save me. Lying in that hospital bed, he confessed again. I looked at his pale face and thought, This man, who’s willing to give up so much for me, can’t be as heartless as my father. I decided to trust him. When I gave him my answer, he held me and cried like a child. But inside, I thought, Fate really is cruel. I’ve always feared love because of what my father did, yet it’s because of his mistakes that I ended up choosing someone to be my mate. Yes, my illness was the result of my father’s affair years ago. He contracted hepatitis B and passed it on to me. By the time we discovered it, it was too late. Even though my mother tried every treatment possible, the damage had already been done after years of living with the disease. The pressure of graduating finally broke me, and my body collapsed. The only option left was a liver transplant. At the time, all I could feel was the bitter irony. I never stopped to think that I was gambling with my happiness because of the pain my father caused me. And in that moment, I realized, this was a doomed start from the very beginning.

After I was discharged from the hospital, we moved in together. Every day was filled with the mundane—cooking, cleaning, the rhythm of simple happiness. I had to admit, Damien was an incredible partner. Stable, positive, never once raising his voice. In the year we lived together, we didn’t even have a single major fight. And then, one day, he proposed. In a room he’d carefully decorated, he knelt before me and held out a diamond ring. I thought about it for a long time, then agreed. I had no reason to say no. He truly was a great lover. Over the past year, he’d worked tirelessly, putting in overtime just to earn extra money. The money he earned—after paying off his family’s debts—was spent on things I loved. I could see it—the ring was the best he could afford, after paying off his family’s medical bills. It was his last sacrifice, and it was all for me. I thought, I’ve found my happiness. Two orphans, both having lost our parents, decided to marry, and so everything moved quickly. A month later, at our wedding, Damien confessed to me once more, his voice full of emotion. The audience—our classmates, our friends, those who had witnessed our journey—watched us in anticipation. The air was full of excitement and laughter. And then I turned to Damien, my voice steady, my gaze unwavering. “Damien, I will try my best to be a good wife, but if you ever lie to me, I’ll vanish from your world without a trace.” I don’t know if he truly understood, and honestly, it didn’t matter. What mattered was that this was my line—my final boundary. Of course, there was also the money. I never intended to tell him about it. Marriage was blissful at first, but as time passed, cracks began to form. We started arguing. He wanted children, but I didn’t. Damien didn’t force me. He simply held me close, let out a soft sigh, and said, “If you don’t want one, we don’t have to. We’ll wait until you’re ready.” I nodded quietly, noncommittally. Seeing I wasn’t particularly enthusiastic, he kissed my cheek and turned to sleep with his back to me. After that, Damien would bring up having children every now and then, probably hoping to influence me, just like he did with his constant confessions. He wanted me to gradually accept it. But what he didn’t know was that wanting a child meant something entirely different for me. I couldn’t take the gamble. I couldn’t gamble on him being a good father. I couldn’t gamble on him continuing to treat me well, as he had. I didn’t want there to be another woman like my mother—and another me—stuck in that cycle. As the days passed, Damien brought it up more frequently, his patience wearing thin. Finally, one day, we fought. In the end, Damien stormed out, slamming the door behind him. I will never forget the deafening sound of the door hitting the frame that night. But that night, I didn’t chase after him. I simply got out of bed, closed the door, and went back to sleep, lying on my side of the bed. The next morning, Damien was back. He had made breakfast, and as if nothing had happened, he called me to eat. After breakfast, he kissed me goodbye as usual and left for work. In that moment, I suddenly thought, Maybe having a child wouldn’t be so bad. After all, Damien grew up in a pack that valued lineage and tradition so much. The fact that he could accept my decision to not have children made me feel… maybe he was someone I could trust. But then I remembered what my mother had always said: “Never trust any man.”

In our third year of marriage, Damien started his own business. He founded a tech company, and with the clients he had accumulated from his previous job, the company took off. Suddenly, our life became luxurious. We moved into a new villa, bought a million-dollar car, and everything we wore and used was top-tier. But at the same time, he came home later and later, sometimes not coming home at all. I would sometimes wait for him, sometimes not. Damien still treated me well, except for one thing—he insisted that I quit my job. He said he had earned enough money for both of us to live comfortably for the rest of our lives, and he didn’t want me to work anymore. I knew the real reason. He felt embarrassed by my low income compared to the wives of his business partners and friends. Most of them were either daughters of well-established families or women as successful as their husbands, while I was working a job that paid only slightly above the average wage. Damien was a man of pride, so he asked me to stop working and become a full-time housewife. I agreed. Just as I hadn’t told him about the money my mother left for me, I also didn’t tell him that the company I worked for was one I had started with my best friend during our senior year. The startup had been exhausting, and that’s when my liver disease relapsed, requiring a transplant to survive. My best friend had been terrified when she saw my condition. She cried and swore never to let me overwork myself again. She had hoped I could stay home and just wait for the dividends, but I couldn’t sit idle, so I took a part-time job to pass the time. Truth be told, I had already achieved financial freedom long before Damien. But I understood him. He didn’t want me to be too successful or independent, so I never told him the full truth. Since he wanted me to be a stay-at-home wife, I did as he wished. I quit my job and spent my days reading books and tending to the flowers. I read a lot of books on marriage. They all said that women shouldn’t be too dominant; that’s the key to a lasting marriage. I thought I was doing well. On our third wedding anniversary, Damien gave me a diamond ring the size of a pigeon’s egg. Holding me close, he said, “Baby, thank you for everything these years.” He removed the small diamond ring he gave me when we got married, saying, “I didn’t have money back then, so I could only give you a small diamond ring. But I promised myself, once I had money, I’d buy you the biggest one.” He threw the small diamond ring into the trash can and slid the large diamond ring onto my finger. “Baby, I’ve made it.” The ring was beautiful, but it was too big, uncomfortable, and a bit inconvenient. I still preferred the small diamond ring. But I knew I couldn’t pick it up from the trash. He wouldn’t like it, and we’d argue. Yes, as Damien made more money, his temper grew worse. Even the smallest issues could set him off, and after we fought, he would apologize and tell me it was just the pressure from work. I understood him. After all, my father had been the same way. Perhaps all men were like this. Suddenly, Damien kissed me wildly, his kisses more intense and urgent than usual. Before, he was always tender and affectionate. As he kissed me, he mumbled, “Baby, let’s have a child.” “I have money now.” I didn’t directly refuse him. His excitement made me feel uneasy, but I didn’t speak up, and he carried me to bed. Damien, you still don’t know. It’s not because you don’t have money that I don’t want a child. Later that night, Damien slept deeply, and I stared at his handsome face, just like it was back in college. The pigeon egg-sized ring was so large that it was causing the fingers next to it to turn slightly red. I got out of bed to take a shower, found a box, and carefully placed the large diamond ring inside. Then, I picked up the small diamond ring from the trash. But I also found a receipt for a necklace. It was dated a month ago. I was certain he hadn’t given me a necklace. I glanced at Damien’s phone, which was resting by the pillow. I knew the password, and he knew mine. I thought about checking, but in the end, I didn’t. I felt a little scared. Was history about to repeat itself?

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I was Alpha Gorge’s dog—silent, submissive, chained by his every command. I crawled in the dirt, did things even the moon would scorn, all for a love I thought would one day be returned. But when that day came—he stood there, arms around another, his eyes as cold as the void, his words cutting deeper than any claw. “I’m bored with you.” My heart turned to ice. I bonded with Alpha Mike. Alpha Gorge, waiting for me to beg, to crumble, stood paralyzed—shocked—as I walked away, leaving him behind. When he saw me standing strong, unbowed, beside another—his wolf howled. “Selina, you’re going to be Alpha Gorge’s luna? You didn’t even tell me? Do you have any conscience?!” Eva’s words struck like claws, echoing in my ears. I froze. Alpha Gorge—my Alpha—had announced it to the Pack? Why didn’t he tell me? Three years of devotion. Finally… it’s my turn. But when I stepped inside,the familiar scent of my Alpha, that earthy, primal scent, mingled with something sharp. I pushed open the door, everything shattered. There she was. Innocent, pure. Her arms wrapped around Alpha Gorge’s neck, her head nestled against his chest. “Gorge, how does it feel…” Her voice was soft. Suddenly, Alpha Gorge’s hand shot out. “Let me smell it.” He yanked her bra strap aside. The girl let out a soft, silvery laugh. The moment I stepped in, the girl’s laughter cut off, her eyes flashing with panic as she scrambled to get off Alpha Gorge’s lap. But he caught her, his grip like iron, pulling her back against him. “What are you afraid of?” His voice, low and taunting, sent a shiver down my spine. He shifted his attention back to her, fingers gently lifting her chin, pushing her face toward his. “You think you’re my Luna?” I laughed, bitter and forced, my voice laced with fury. “I thought you were claiming me, Gorge. Finally making it real. But it’s just another game, isn’t it?” Alpha Gorge’s eyes darkened. “Oh, it’s real, alright. I am claiming my Luna.” His hand slid down Amelia’s neck, possessive and slow, like a hunter savoring the kill. “But it’s not you, Selina. She’s my true mate.” Amelia curled deeper into Alpha Gorge’s lap, her eyes sparkling with victory. “So, you must be Selina, huh? The longest lover of Alpha Gorge. But guess what? It’s me and him now. Guess I’ve won.” Her words sliced through me. Alpha Gorge, with that same mocking smile, leaned down to kiss her. “Oh, Alpha Gorge, my shoes are dirty, my OCD… let me clean them first.” “You don’t have to do that, Selina,” he sneered. “Selina, Just lick them clean.” My heart shattered into jagged pieces. Three years of devotion—and this is how I was discarded. “If this is just to humiliate me, congratulations. You’ve succeeded,” I turned to leave. But in an instant, Alpha Gorge’s hand was on me. He yanked my arm hard, pulling me back. “Where do you think you’re going?” Before I could react, his fingers twisted under my chin, forcing me to look into his icy eyes. “Look at you,” he snarled. “Look at this pathetic thing you’ve become. Filthy. Weak. So damn common. Do you really think you deserve me? A beast like you?” I struggled, pulling away, but his hold was suffocating. “You’re nothing but a plaything!”

Three years ago, on a blistering afternoon, I sat at a street-side café, sipping my iced latte. Lost in the quiet of the moment, I didn’t notice him. Alpha Gorge was parked across the street, his eyes fixed on me like a wolf tracking its prey. I had no idea, but the moment my lips brushed the straw, he was already enchanted. “ I saw an angel, glowing under the sun, pure and untouched.” I teased, “Is this how you charm all the women, Gorge?” He just smirked, and from that moment, I became his target. He sent flowers—mountains of them. Cars. A villa. Not a love letter, but a full-on show of force. The Pack watched as I became the envy of every woman around. But behind that glittering world, there was a dark truth. I was the one hundredth. The one hundredth, they whispered. Three months. That was his average. Then the next one. Gone. I was completely captivated by him. Back then, he doted on me like I was the center of his world. If I was the slightest bit upset, he’d be broken-hearted, ready to spend a fortune just to see me smile again. A hundred million, just for me to buy something to cheer up. I fell for him, deeper than I ever thought possible. And with each passing day, a new fear gripped my heart: Would I end up just like his exes, tossed aside after three months? The thought terrified me. It was like clockwork. I couldn’t bear to be just another one. So, I changed. I let go of everything that once made me who I was. All that mattered was keeping his attention. “Do you like this?” I asked, spinning in front of him, wearing something bold, daring—desperate for that flicker in his eyes. He didn’t even look up at first. That flicker. That was all I needed. In the bedroom, I morphed into whatever he wanted. Roleplay? Anything. Limits? Nonexistent. “I need you like this,” he’d demand, and I’d bend until I was unrecognizable, just to see him smile. And when Alpha Gorge hung out with his pack, I became them,making porn jokes. “Bet you can’t handle this,” I’d joke, crude and low, pushing out words that once would’ve made me sick. They laughed, and I basked in it. Soon, the Pack had heard it all. I wasn’t his lover anymore. I was his slave. “Call me. I’ll be there . ” I said to him one night, my voice hollow. “I was just… your personal slave.” No matter where I was, no matter what I was doing—Alpha Gorge’s voice echoed in my mind. “Come here.” It didn’t matter if I was with friends, in a meeting, or in the middle of something important. I dropped everything. Within half an hour, I was his. One day, he stood before me, eyes dark, commanding. “I want to see you act like a horse.” A horse. I barely blinked before I was on all fours, the collar cold against my skin. “Now,” he demanded. “Crawl.” I didn’t hesitate. Hands and knees hit the concrete, scraping against the rough pavement, my body sinking into the cold ground. The collar tugged on my neck as if it owned me. The world around us kept moving, oblivious to the humiliating scene I was playing out, but I didn’t care. The only thing that mattered was his approval. “Crawl.” His voice was sharper now. I obeyed, head bowed low. My hands and knees burned with the friction, but I kept crawling. I felt eyes on me. Whispered. Judged. But I didn’t hear them. “Faster.” His voice was cold and commanding, and I moved quicker, each scrape of my skin on the concrete a reminder of my place. I was nothing. No one. His. And that was all that mattered. The moment the footage hit the internet, it exploded. Images of me—humiliated, broken, crawling through the streets like a creature—spread across every screen. “Look at her. Pathetic. A toy for the Alpha.” “She’s nothing but an animal now.” But then, I heard it. The ring of a phone. Alpha Gorge’s voice on the other end, cold and commanding. “I see they’re talking about you.” I swallowed hard, but I didn’t speak. I knew what he meant. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of it.” And just like that, the chaos started to fade. But in others’ heart, I became nothing more than a whisper—a fleeting shame in the background of his world. I was Alpha Gorge’s slave. Three years. And I thought I’d finally broken the curse of the three-month rule—I thought I had his heart. But this morning—he announced he was claiming a new Luna. And I? The last to know. The bride wasn’t me. He brought her back to our home, kissed her in front of me, just to see me break. And then, with that cold smile, he said, “You’re nothing. Low, vulgar. You could never be worthy of me.” Wasn’t I molded by his own hands?

After Alpha Gorge tossed me aside, I became the entire Pack’s punchline. “Selina, huh?” they whispered, laughing behind my back. “Three years with Alpha Gorge, and what does she get? Played, used, then tossed. ” I ignored my parents, thinking staying close to him was worth it. Riverpack—his world—was supposed to be my place. Now, look at me. I knew the man was a flirt, a player. He loved new faces. But I thought—I thought—I could keep him. How naïve. When I was his, his brothers would call me “sister-in-law,” their smiles all fake warmth. Respect in front of him, mocking behind his back. But now? Now, they look at me like I’m a disease. “Don’t catch anything from her,” I can see it in their eyes. Alpha Gorge was my first. I never even looked at another man. But now, I’m nothing to him. I stepped out of the villa. Without Alpha Gorge, Riverpack felt massive, and I was utterly lost. Thankfully, Eva—my blunt, carefree best friend—was there. I crashed at her place. Three years of being Alpha Gorge’s slave came flooding out. She held me silently. “You’ll figure it out, Selina. ” That night, the phone rang. It was my father. “Selina,” “Mike from Stonepack wants to marry you.” I froze. The name echoed from my childhood. The Alpha of Stonepack. “He’s an Alpha now, Selina..” “But… I haven’t seen him in years. Why now?” “He wants you, Selina. This is your chance.” I was dizzy. Eva’s eyes were on me. “But… didn’t Mike have that accident? Isn’t he sex impotent…?” My father hesitated. “Yes. But he’s still Alpha. ” After my parents told me about the situation, they were very hesitant and said that if I couldn’t accept it, I should just reject it. Given the long-standing relationship between the families, Mike’s side wouldn’t make things difficult for us. In the midst of their shock, I directly told them, “I agree to the marriage.” All these years, living by Alpha Gorge’s side, I’ve done it all—the things I should and shouldn’t have done. I’ve become numb to all those so-called romantic passions between men and women. Marrying Alpha Mike, first, it would solidify Mountain pack’s position within the pack, and second, I want to settle down for once. As for whether Alpha Mike can still perform his duties as a mate, it’s no longer the most important thing to me. I didn’t expect to run into Amelia while I was grabbing my things from Alpha Gorge’s villa. “Well, well, if it isn’t Selina,” she sneered. “Is this because Alpha Gorge tossed you aside, and now you’re packing up to go back home?” It hadn’t been long since I’d last seen her, but she was already so different from the girl I first met. Back then, she was all innocence—long black hair, a white dress, and a shy, demure gaze. But now she was decked out in designer brands, jewelry glittering at every turn. I smiled, a bitter laugh. “You know, Amelia,” I said, “you’re becoming exactly what I used to be.” She froze for a second, but I could see the flicker of doubt in her eyes. “One day, you’ll end up just like me,” I added, my smile growing colder. “Maybe even worse.”

I tried to walk past her, but Amelia quickly blocked my path again, “Don’t walk away, Selina,” she taunted. “You served Alpha Gorge for three years—his personal slave. You were used up, tossed aside… and now you’re just a broken toy. Aren’t you angry? Especially since I’ve only been with him for a few days, and he’s already claiming me as his luna?” “Move. His marriage to you has nothing to do with me,” I snapped, fury rising, but I was ready to walk away. “Tell me,” she smirked, “What was it like crawling on the streets like an animal? Did it excite him? Teach me how to please him!” The words hit me like a punch. Although Alpha Gorge used his position to get me out of the mess, it took months of therapy to even start healing. But then Amelia, that bitch, kept hitting me where it hurt. I raised my hand, ready to slap her across the face. But before I could reach her, she screamed, falling to the ground in an exaggerated heap. “Wahhh… I was just trying to say hi! Why do you hate me so much? Is it because I’m taking your place? ” she wailed. Before I could even react, the sharp sting of a slap burned across my cheek. I froze, eyes wide, realizing Alpha Gorge was standing right in front of me. “Selina, are you out of your mind? If you’re angry, take it out on me, but don’t drag her into this!” Alpha Gorge’s voice slashed through the air like a whip. “I didn’t touch her. She tripped on her own, but I’m sure you’d like to blame me for that,” I snarled. Alpha Gorge’s lips curled into a cruel smirk. He stepped closer, towering over me. “You’re mad because she’s replacing you, aren’t you? You’re nothing but a broken toy, Selina. A used-up thing I’ve grown tired of. But if you beg, I might allow you to be my mistress. After all, you’ve been well-trained—like a good little bitch.” My fists clenched, my wolf stirring beneath my skin, but I held it in. “No,” my voice steady, though every word dripped with fury. “Keep your twisted affection for her. You’ve already destroyed me once. I’m done. I’m not your pet anymore.” His eyes flashed dangerously. “You think you can walk away from me? ” “Try me.” He took a step forward. “Fine,” he spat. “But don’t think you’re safe. I own you, Selina. You’re nothing without me.” “I don’t need you. You’ve done enough damage,” I whispered, turning on my heel, my wolf fighting to get free as I walked away from him. I walked into my house, my heart still pounding. But then I froze. There, in the middle of the room, stood Alpha Mike. It had been nearly ten years since I last saw him, from middle school until now, after I graduated from college. The last time I saw him was at our elementary school graduation ceremony—he was a pale, skinny, brooding boy. But when we met again this time, I barely recognized him. He had grown into a tall, handsome man, standing at nearly six feet. After so many years, I felt both strange and shy in his presence. But he, on the other hand, greeted me with a confident smile and extended his hand toward me. “Luna, I’ve waited for you to grow up. Now I can finally marry you.” I stumbled over my words, looking into his deep, bright eyes. “Who’s your luna? We’re not even married yet, don’t call me that.” “Well, tomorrow we’re getting married. Today, let’s just call it a preview,” he teased . The next day, Alpha Mike and I held a grand Luna ceremony at the Mountain Garden Hotel. As we were reading our wedding vows, the doors of the hall suddenly burst open with a loud bang. “Selina! You can’t marry him, you can only marry me!” A figure drenched in sweat, eyes frantic, rushed toward us.

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In the Neurology Department, a patient caused a ruckus, a pen’s tip dangerously close to jabbing my eye. While I was still reeling in shock, my fiancé Everett was busy shielding Dean’s daughter, Addie, in his arms. Afterward, he meticulously checked Addie’s condition, completely oblivious to my trembling hands behind him. I stared at the dazzling diamond necklace around her neck, which pained my eyes. It was the very necklace I’d seen in Everett’s jacket pocket. I thought it was a belated birthday gift meant for me. [Cora, you’re so pitiful. Everett doesn’t love you anymore, yet you still cling to him. Look, did he even glance at you?] Oh? Is that so. [Among his mistresses, you’re the chattiest.] After replying to the text message, I immediately bought a flight back to A City scheduled for three days later. In my left hand, I still held the phone connected to my dad’s call: “You’ve been away for three years for Everett, and Grandpa’s health has worsened. Come back and get the wedding done.” In my right hand was the pregnancy test result I had planned to show Everett half an hour ago. Suppressing my sobs, I said, “Dad, wait for me. I’ll be back in three days.” The next moment, I tore up the pregnancy test report and tossed it in the trash. It’s been three years, and my wedding with Everett has been postponed again and again, six times just for the ceremony. He’s either too busy, needs a promotion, or there’s a sudden increase in workload… I’m done waiting. Today after work, I didn’t wait for Everett to leave together, which was unusual. As soon as I started the car, the door opened, and Everett got into the back seat, looking displeased. “Not waiting for me? Do you have an attitude now?” I stayed silent, focusing on driving, and he added, “You should apologize to Addie; she cried this afternoon, saying you called her a homewrecker. Cora, I didn’t expect you to be this kind of person; Addie’s such a pure and kind girl.” Sure, she’s pure and kind. Everyone in the department talks about how Dean’s daughter Addie is lovesick, frequently visiting Everett’s office. I was genuinely amused. “Everett, do you remember what I said when we started dating?” “Are you serious? You’ve said so much; how could I remember every word?” He was a bit impatient. “I once said my future husband could be lazy, could be greedy, but must not be a womanizer. Do you remember that?” “Men in today’s society are so stressed because you feminists have distorted the atmosphere.” He rubbed his temples, pretending to lose interest in the topic. Both of us returned home with tense expressions, and Everett went to shower first. He took a long time in the shower, seemingly on a lengthy phone call. I didn’t bother with him. When he came out, I quickly closed my laptop. “You didn’t cook?” He seemed slightly stiff, seeing the dark kitchen and the empty dining table. His stomach isn’t great, and with the busy, irregular schedule of a doctor, I’ve been cooking for him for three years. “Order takeout yourself; I’m pretty busy these days too.” I was telling the truth. “You’re just a nurse. I don’t know what you busy yourself with all day.” He looked displeased, fiddling with his phone. Passing by him, I glimpsed that he wasn’t ordering takeout but messaging Addie: [Still hungry. I’ll eat you tonight.] I quietly picked up the cat bowl, planning to feed Purr. Purr is a gentle blue cat Everett gave me when I followed him to Seaside City three years ago to comfort me when I missed home. But after pouring the cat food, Purr was nowhere to be seen. I panicked a bit, calling out, and Everett impatiently looked up: “Stop calling. I sent Purr to Addie’s place; she’ll bring him back in a few days.” I threw down the cat bowl: “That’s my cat! How could you just give him away?” Everett looked displeased: “Addie has depression; I’m her attending doctor. For the patient’s sake, you shouldn’t be so petty!” He slammed the door and left. As I calmed down, a chill ran down my spine. Everett wouldn’t take Purr out to play. Addie must have been to my house; otherwise, how would she like and take Purr? I went mad searching the house. Finally, in the crack of the guest room headboard, I found a black lace bra and a torn condom wrapper. What a coincidence. Half a month ago, to monitor Purr’s activity at home, I bought a camera. I only tested it but wasn’t good at setting it up, so I left it alone. I opened the app to check. The footage was unclear, but the audio was crystal clear. A week ago, when I was on the night shift, Addie asked, “Who excites you more, me or that woman?” Everett, panting, replied: “She’s so boring; she can’t compare to your wild charms.”

To avoid Everett, I switched hospitals for the miscarriage procedure. The tiny child, so pitiful, left only a photo. I rested for only half a day before going to retrieve Purr. With Addie’s bra in hand, I was about to knock when I heard Addie’s playful laughter from inside: “Do you like eating me or the food I make?” “Of course, it’s you,” came Everett’s voice. No wonder Everett’s been coming home less and less lately. With the busy and irregular life of a doctor, Everett often stayed overnight at the office. I never doubted it. Turns out he was keeping a mistress here. I opened TikTok on my phone, logged into an alternate account, and sure enough, found an account named “Addie.” In it, the two of them and the cat were cuddled together, smiling sweetly. Caption: “Let’s be happy together forever.” How ridiculous. They’re happy together; what am I? Maybe Purr smelled my scent because the chubby cat suddenly jumped into my arms from somewhere. I hugged it and kissed it hard. The door opened behind me, and Everett’s face briefly showed a mix of embarrassment and shock, quickly returning to a cold demeanor: “What are you doing here?” “Everett, shouldn’t I be asking why you’re here?” “I’m seeing a patient. Is there a problem?” “Then continue.” I turned to leave with the cat in my arms. “Everett, you promised to let the cat stay with me for three days. How could you break your promise?” Addie’s coquettish voice came from behind. A large hand suddenly reached out, snatching Purr from my arms. My body was still weak, and I almost stumbled. The cat returned to Addie’s arms. She stood behind Everett, provocatively raising her eyebrows at me, then went inside. Perhaps realizing he had gone too far, Everett pulled me to a corner and wrapped his arms around my waist: “Cora, I’m sorry. Pets are an important part of treating patients. Addie’s condition is unstable. I promise, in three days, I’ll bring Purr home.” I knocked away his arms: “Treat however you want! Why tell me all this?” With that, I threw the lace bra in Everett’s face. Everett’s face turned pale, then he looked up at me: “Cora, you’ve misunderstood. I don’t know whose that is.”

Once-loving people somehow rot in secret, leaving me at a loss for words. Maybe it was the miscarriage, maybe it was the blood loss, but I felt dizzy. Suddenly, a scream came from Addie’s room. Along with Purr’s cries. Everett dashed inside, then minutes later, carried Addie to the elevator entrance. Addie’s head rested on Everett’s chest, sobbing: “That little beast bit me, Everett. Is my hand ruined?” Her left hand dangled down, indeed with two cat bite marks, bleeding a little. “I’m taking Addie to get vaccinated. Go home.” Everett frowned, rushing into the elevator. I turned to look at Purr, wobbling as it walked, likely kicked a few times, vomiting after only a few steps. [Your cat is as annoying as you. So hateful.] A text message from Addie popped up. I couldn’t be bothered to reply, stumbled into a cab home, cleaned up Purr and myself, and only collapsed into bed late at night. In the morning, I was woken by the sound of the range hood in the kitchen. I was surprised to see Everett cooking. He never cooks. In all these years, I’ve made every meal. Could he know about the miscarriage, feeling guilty? I brushed my hair in my room, walked out, but he was gone. Along with the food he prepared. Half an hour later, I checked Addie’s TikTok with my alternate account, and sure enough: “Got bitten by a bad kitty, but Everett made me a heartfelt breakfast. MUA~” I closed the page, just as Human Resources sent me the Resignation Confirmation. I signed it without hesitation. I didn’t go to the hospital all morning, and at noon, Everett seemed uneasy when I didn’t bring him a heartfelt lunch. Around one o’clock, he suddenly came home. Was it possible he found out about my miscarriage and felt a pang of conscience? After tidying my hair in the room, I stepped out of the bedroom to find he was already gone, along with the meal he had just made. Half an hour later, I logged into an alternate TikTok account to check Addie’s TikTok. As expected, there was a post: “Got a bite from a naughty dog, and my sweet breakfast was made by my silly guy. MUA~” I closed the page just as HR sent me the confirmation of my resignation. I signed it without a second thought. I didn’t go to the hospital at all that morning. By noon, Everett seemed unsettled, noticing I hadn’t brought him his usual lunch. Around one o’clock, he unexpectedly came home. I was packing my things. Thankfully, we didn’t have kids, so there wasn’t much to take. “I brought you something to eat,” he said, holding up a takeout bag. Cold cake and iced coffee. I had just undergone a miscarriage procedure—I couldn’t eat that. Addie had texted me: [Cora, what you’re eating is just our leftovers. Enjoy it. Don’t choke.] I looked at my phone, resisting the urge to smash it. From Addie’s alternate TikTok account, I learned Everett had just come from her place. He took her to Nian Nian Restaurant, the one I’d been asking to visit for ages, but he always claimed to be too busy. Everett didn’t notice anything. After a few minutes of me scrolling on my phone, he suddenly got irritated. “Cora, who are you making that face for? Eat it or don’t, whatever!” “I don’t want to eat your and Addie’s leftovers, alright?” I replied bluntly. “Cora, Addie’s hand hasn’t recovered yet. I just took her for a simple meal. Is this necessary? Besides, she’s the Dean’s Daughter. You can’t help with my promotion, so can’t I find another way?” Seeing my pale face, his tone softened slightly: “I know I’ve been busy lately and neglected you. I’m going on a business trip these days. When I come back, I’ll spend quality time with you.” “Oh.” My response was flat. It doesn’t matter anymore, Everett. Delayed affection is worth less than grass. By the time you return from your trip, I’ll be long gone from Seaside City. 4. The flight at 10 PM, I’m the kind of person who never looks back once I let go. However, I had a box in Everett’s office, containing more than ten precious photos from our time together: The day I agreed to be his girlfriend, Our first Chinese New Year in Seaside City, The day he got the Associate Professorship… I wanted to take that box back. I didn’t want to leave anything for him. When I appeared at Everett’s office, he was busy. He looked so handsome while working seriously. Who would know how rotten he was inside? I asked him where the box was. “It’s in the cabinet gathering dust. Addie got curious a few days ago and took it to look.” “Do you even know what it is before letting someone take it?” I was a bit angry. “It’s definitely not those photos you like to take. I hate taking pictures, you know that. I’m busy, don’t cause trouble, okay?” He frowned, practically shooing me away. How ridiculous, Everett. Shouldn’t you check Addie’s TikTok account? You’ve made 298 short videos with her. I turned to find Addie. She claimed she was sick but was actually doing nothing in her exclusive VIP Room all day. When I arrived, she was cutting something on the bed. Next to the bed was a pried-open box. “Oh, you’re here. Look, do you think Everett and I are a match?” She held up a photo where my face was cut out and replaced with hers. I bit my lip and said hoarsely, “A perfect match indeed.” I should thank her. I would’ve burned those photos if I got them back. “You’re such a bitch, Cora. Get out of here, don’t let me see you again.” I successfully angered Addie, and she slapped me. My face burned with pain, but I didn’t hold back. I slapped her back. “Do you believe I’ll tell your Dean Father about you seducing someone else’s man?” “Oh, am I supposed to be scared of you? Everett and I are competing fairly. Even if you told the King of Heaven, it wouldn’t matter!” Addie swayed in front of me, laughing. She laughed as if she really looked sick. The building alarm blared, and someone yelled, “Earthquake.” People rushed to the escape route. Yet, Addie and I acted as if we didn’t hear it. The table and chairs shook violently in the room. A cup on the table shattered on the ground. “No, Addie, you can have him. I don’t want him.” I was curious and asked, “When did you two get together?” “We got together on Valentine’s Day. You’re the homewrecker between Everett and me. The unloved one is the homewrecker!” Really, February 14th. How laughable. On February 14th this year, Everett even pulled me to book a wedding photoshoot in the morning. How did he end up in bed with someone else so quickly, secretly for almost ten months? While thinking about this, the entire building shook more violently, The door was suddenly pushed open, and Everett rushed in. “There’s an earthquake! What are you doing standing there!” He shouted at Addie, pulling her towards the escape route. It was too crowded, too packed. He protected her, holding her in his arms, pushing through the crowd. I didn’t know if he was blind or if I just wasn’t in his heart anymore, Standing right beside Addie, he didn’t see me. I just stood there, quietly watching their backs disappear down the corridor. 5 I escaped the scene in a sorry state and went back to collect myself. Fastened my collar, put on my coat, and headed to the airport alone. While waiting at the gate, I saw Everett again. He was dragging a suitcase, holding Addie’s hand. They were chatting and laughing. So, the business trip he mentioned was with her. I watched them check their luggage. He carried her handbag, “It’s too heavy, I’ll do it.” He didn’t let Addie lift a finger, personally loading all the luggage onto the conveyor belt. I recalled our last vacation together, which was last year. I had to persuade him to take just a three-day leave. With his long legs, I had to jog behind him with my suitcase to catch the plane. I wanted him to help carry my bag. “My hands are for surgery. Carrying too much can sprain my wrist.” He frowned and refused. Back then, I thought, yeah, I really am inconsiderate. Haha, I’m truly slow to catch on. We dated for three years in college, worked together for three years after graduation, He promised he’d love me forever. … “Addie, I think I saw Cora.” At the boarding gate, Everett seemed suspicious, turning to look around. But there was no sign of me, only the announcement echoing in the bright hall. “You’re imagining things, Everett. I don’t care. Before New Year’s Day, you must end things with that Cora. I want you all to myself. Your mind can only have me!” … Two planes took off in succession but flew in different directions.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “295413”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #现实主义Realistic #励志Inspiring #浪漫Romance #校园School #魔幻Magic #重生Reborn #惊悚Thriller

After four years of marriage to Declan, he secretly bought a property. I thought it was a surprise for me. So, without telling him, I started an online home renovation blog. I offered free home makeover advice to my followers, hoping to apply my best skills to decorate our new home. But today, I received a message from a follower. The girl shyly mentioned that her fiancé had gifted her a house and she hoped I could help design it. However, I noticed a photo of a couple on the bedside table. The man in the photo was my husband. He was holding his First Love, whom he hadn’t seen in five years. I suddenly felt exhausted. After more than two thousand days and nights, I still couldn’t win Declan’s heart. So, I called upon the System hidden in my mind. “Hello, Host. Please confirm if you wish to leave this world?” When I received the Direct Message, I didn’t break down or feel the pain I had anticipated. Instead, I was surprisingly calm. I recalled Declan’s recent strange behavior, realizing that the signs had always been there. Four years ago, on Christmas, Genevieve’s family suddenly emigrated, and we lost contact. In a winter blizzard, I found Declan frozen stiff and brought him home to warm him up. That night, I ended an eight-year-long infatuation and slept with him. After marriage, Declan was the perfect husband. He meticulously planned surprises for our anniversaries, took me to important events, and even cooked for me when I mentioned wanting Braised Ribs, though he always ended up making Sweet and Sour Ribs, which made me laugh and cry. Two months ago, he mentioned a challenging project at work and said he’d be working late often. He started not coming home at night frequently. Thinking back, Genevieve must have returned around that time. That night, Declan got up in the middle of the night to get dressed, and in my sleepy state, I asked where he was going. He replied, “Going to the airport to pick up a client.” I squinted at him and teased, “What kind of client is worth Mr. Declan dressing up for in the middle of the night?” He stiffened slightly and gave me a perfunctory answer, then tucked me in, “It’s cold, don’t kick off the blanket, sleep well.” Declan, did you say that because you were worried I’d catch a cold, or because you didn’t want me to delay your meeting with her? Tears silently slid down my cheeks as the message in the chat box pierced my heart: “Thank you for your hard work, because my fiancé is quite picky, he needs to decide on some details.” “He’ll be here soon, so you don’t have to wait too long.” The moment I saw this message, I snapped back to reality. Declan was wearing a gray wool coat, his eyebrows furrowed like thick smoke, with a faint smile on his lips. He was heading towards the door. Was he going to see Genevieve? I hurriedly called out, “Declan, it’s so late, where are you going?”

Declan paused when he heard me, raised his wrist, and glanced at his expensive watch. His family background was excellent, and as a young vice president of the family business, his future was limitless. But I was his burden. I was just the daughter of a servant in the Declan family, but the moment I saw Declan, I fell hopelessly and shamelessly in love with him. In front of him, I was always like an ugly duckling, neither smart nor gentle enough. Every time I faced him, I instinctively lowered my voice and stance. I didn’t like it when Declan frowned. When he looked at the watch, his expression was slightly impatient, but his tone wasn’t accusatory: “There are some things at the company I need to handle, go to bed early.” I pressed my lips tightly, my fingernails digging into my palms. Just as Declan was about to step out the door, I called him again. “Declan, I… my stomach hurts a bit, can you stay with me?” His shoulders relaxed, and I almost thought I had won this first round. But the next second, Declan’s words chilled me to the bone: “Hazel, don’t make it difficult for me… you know the company is in some trouble recently…” He might have said more reasons afterward, but I couldn’t hear them anymore. I wiped my tears with a bitter smile. After the door closed, I sat alone in the darkening room until my phone buzzed again. “Influencer, my boyfriend came to see me. He made a few requests and hopes you can consider them.” My heart felt empty, as if a piercing cold wind was all that remained in my chest. Sticking to my professional spirit, I still replied, “Sure, though the construction period might be a bit long.” “No problem.” “[Image]” She suddenly sent a photo of some dishes. “Thank you for listening to my requests for so long. Here’s a small piece of happiness from my life as a token of appreciation.” “It’s Sweet and Sour Ribs made by my fiancé. It’s been four years since I last had them, and I didn’t expect his cooking skills to improve so much. I wonder how he practiced, haha.” Sweet and Sour Ribs… My pupils shook violently, memories flashed like a slideshow, and a suffocating feeling enveloped me. No wonder Declan only ever made this dish for me in the last four years, always mistaking it for the Braised Ribs I loved. It turns out Genevieve liked it. Were all his gentle gestures because he saw me as someone else’s shadow? Sweet memories surged like waves, now tinged with bitterness and pain. Everything told me that Declan never liked me. I could no longer suppress the overwhelming emotions and burst into tears. “I want to go home, I want to go home, System… please let me go home.” [Ding] System: “Host, I’m here. It’s been a long time, how are you?” “I’m sorry, Host, your physical body in the original world has already died, you can’t go back.” “Considering your progress with the target ‘Declan’ has reached 80%, I will apply for a benefit to change your identity, please wait patiently.”

“Christmas is coming soon, Hazel, don’t forget to buy gifts and decorate. Declan loved Christmas as a child, though not so much when he grew up.” My mother-in-law had just returned from shopping, wearing a mink coat, her high-heeled shoes clacking loudly. “Okay.” “Ah—” My mother-in-law sighed again and said, “No matter the holiday, it’s only lively with a child. You’ve never been pregnant all these years, so it’s no wonder Declan isn’t fond of them.” She had been urging me to have children since I married into the Declan family, but each time it pained my heart. I couldn’t help but retort, “Mom, you said you didn’t want me to disturb Declan’s rest, only allowing me to share a room with him twice a month. I want to conceive too… but having a child isn’t just up to me.” Hearing this, Mother-in-law’s eyebrows furrowed, her tone urgent: “It’s your fault for not being able to conceive, and now you’re blaming me? Declan will take over the company in the future. How can he progress if you keep clinging to him?” She shot me a sideways glance, “You can’t do anything right, but you’re good at talking back. It’s better if you can’t have children. A servant’s daughter can’t give birth to smart kids. I really don’t know why Declan agreed to marry you.” “Enough, say no more!” came a voice from upstairs, aged yet authoritative. “Grandmother, why are you coming down?” I quickly went to her, supporting her as she slowly descended the stairs, her eyes like daggers aimed at my mother-in-law. Mother-in-law looked slightly embarrassed. The old lady was Declan’s grandmother. Without her support, I would never have been able to marry into the Declan family. Honestly, I never understood why Grandmother liked me. All I knew was that if not for her, my days would have been much harder. “Don’t glare at me like that. I’m not wrong,” Mother-in-law said. “Disharmony among children is often due to the lack of virtue in the elderly. Declan and Hazel’s relationship is strained because of you,” Grandmother bluntly criticized. She then turned to me and said, “Hazel, don’t take it to heart. Accompany Grandmother to the hospital for a check-up tomorrow afternoon, and get yourself checked too, just as a precaution.” I nodded obediently, though I had made up my mind. No check-up. Declan’s heart isn’t with me. What’s the point of having a child? Does he really want a child with me? I returned to my room and threw myself into drawing design drafts and building models, immersing myself in work. Only this way could I briefly suppress the pain. H: “[Video], it’s decorated according to your design, and my heart feels like it’s in an ice cellar.” I immediately got nervous and quickly asked what was wrong. H, a person both familiar and unfamiliar, we’ve known each other for ten years, but only online. Ten years ago, at just 17, I got into a car accident and came to this strange world to be Declan’s pursuer. Back then, I was naive and thought everything was a game. So I eagerly confessed, and after failing, I was punished with an electric shock, landing me in the ICU. That’s when I met H. The hospital organized patients of the same age to write their contact information in little envelopes, and I added him. But we never met in real life. He had gastritis at the time and was discharged before me. Over the years, we’ve kept in touch sporadically. My girlish feelings that Declan never reciprocated were all absorbed by H. He knew I had unavoidable reasons to like someone and that I genuinely liked that person, to the point of losing my mind, knowing full well he didn’t love me back, yet still persisted. After marrying Declan, my contact with H became less frequent. Recently, however, he found out I became a Content Creator and was eager to be my guinea pig. We never met in person, and he was suffering from gastritis at the time, so he was discharged from the hospital before me. Over the years, we occasionally kept in touch, but my innocent feelings for Declan were never reciprocated; instead, they were absorbed by H. He understood that I felt compelled to like someone, and he knew I genuinely liked that person to the point of losing myself, even though I knew he didn’t love me back, yet I persisted. After marrying Declan, my contact with H became less frequent. Recently, when H found out I became a Content Creator, he was eager to be my first test subject. As my first client, H’s opinion was crucial, but now he seems horrified by my design. Is it really that bad… H: [Just kidding, sis, your design is my dream home.] I couldn’t help but smile, but I wasn’t really in the mood for joking around, so I just sent an emoji. However, H sensed something was wrong and asked, [Is something bothering you? Is it about him again?] [Don’t worry about me, I’m used to it.] There was a long silence before a voice call came through. I panicked and almost hung up. For so many years, H was like a presence in my life rather than a real person. I didn’t know his appearance, his job, his family, or even his voice. In my mind, he was like a playful big brother who never got upset easily. When his gentle and clear voice came through the phone, I was taken aback by how wonderful it sounded. With a voice like that, if he could sing in tune, he could be a singer. “You don’t have to talk; I just want to sing you a song.” Could he really sing? I wondered if he could read my thoughts, so I simply hummed in response. His singing was even more impressive than his speaking voice. I bit my lip, feeling tears welling up: “Thank you…” This long-lost comfort. “Take care of yourself, we’ll talk another time. I’ll hang up now.” The call ended, and I found myself looking forward to our next conversation.

Declan hasn’t been home for two days. I thought about the list of items I made for Genevieve and chuckled bitterly, thinking he must be helping her with her renovations. It’s both sad and ironic that I’m indirectly decorating the home of the man I love with another woman. Even so, I still took Grandmother to the hospital. No matter how Declan treats me, I have to repay Grandmother’s kindness. Declan’s Family has some influence in the city, and the hospital assigned a professional team to assist. I was just there for support. Grandmother urged me, “Hazel, you should let the doctor check you.” She was being subtle, but I understood her meaning. She wanted me to find out why I couldn’t get pregnant. But there’s no need for a check-up; I know the reason all too well. After every time we were together, Declan would buy me birth control pills, saying that having a baby during his peak career would be a distraction, and he didn’t want me to suffer the pain of childbirth. I once thought this was an expression of his love, but now I realize he did it to redirect all conflicts toward me. Because of this, I frequently faced difficulties with my mother-in-law. To avoid disappointing Grandmother, I wandered around for a bit. Unexpectedly, I ran into someone I hadn’t seen in a long time. Although we didn’t bump into each other, she was unsteady, her slender body almost falling. I instinctively reached out to help her. She was as delicate as a butterfly, with simple yet exquisite makeup. In stark contrast to my disheveled state. For a moment, I wanted to hide in the darkest corner of the world. But she recognized me and hesitantly said, “Hazel?” Genevieve looked slightly awkward. “What are you doing here?” I avoided her gaze, clutching my clothes tightly. I should have been the one asking her… Why is Genevieve in the obstetrics department? Could it be… My eyes drifted to her abdomen. Before I could probe further, a figure rushed over with a worried cry piercing my ears. “Genevieve, are you okay?” Declan’s tall figure pushed past me and embraced Genevieve. He didn’t care about me, inspecting her up and down. “You scared me. Be careful when you walk, or you’ll hurt the baby…” He said while glaring at me, the “passerby,” with impatience and blame. But the moment he saw my face, Declan fell silent.

The last time I saw Declan with that look was four years ago. That was also before Christmas. The streets were filled with the tune of Jingle Bells, and Declan coldly said to me, “Genevieve said you came to her in my name, asking her to stay away from me?” No matter how much I explained, Declan wouldn’t listen. To the extent that when Genevieve’s family moved abroad, he blamed me. “Hazel, you’re great, but compared to Genevieve, you’re nothing.” His decisive words echoed in my ears, and my eyes reddened. After a long silence, Declan said, “It’s exactly what you see; I don’t want to explain anything.” “Hazel, if you want a divorce, you can have it. Thank you for letting me be with Genevieve.” The pain was overwhelming, like being engulfed by endless darkness, each breath feeling like a thousand tiny needles. I never realized so clearly that Declan doesn’t love me. He didn’t want me to carry his child, yet he couldn’t wait to be with Genevieve. In just two months, she was pregnant. Thinking of how proud I was of my 80% strategy completion, it seemed laughable. As long as Genevieve is 100%, what does my 80% even mean? [It does mean something], the System’s voice suddenly echoed in my mind: [Host, please don’t be overly sad. I’ve secured a benefit for you. You can choose to let “Hazel” die physically and leave this identity.] [But don’t worry, your soul won’t perish. I’ll give you a suitable identity to be reborn.]

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