Author: Momo Chan

I was born with the ability to smell others’ desires. To avoid those foul scents, I married Alistair, the cleanest man I could find. His scent was like cool pine, and it hadn’t changed in three years. Until my birthday. He brought home a girl, claiming she was his long-lost sister. The pine scent on Alistair began to spoil, ferment, growing stronger day by day. Finally, when I pushed open the study door and was assaulted by a sickening, decaying stench that filled the room, I broke. I pulled out the pregnancy test results I’d prepared, calmly handing them to him. “Alistair, let’s get a divorce. The child isn’t yours.” … I clutched the thin paper, my fingertips icy. Alistair’s pine scent, for the first time, was tainted by another fragrance. A sickly sweet gardenia scent subtly entwined with his clean aura. It was the scent of Sera Hadley. I smiled at him, hiding the pregnancy test behind my back. During dinner, I sat beside Alistair, quietly observing Sera across from him. She wore a white dress, looking pure and harmless. She always found the perfect moment to say the most suggestive things in the most innocent tone. “Brother, do you remember? You always used to say when we were little that you’d marry a girl just like me.” Alistair’s movements paused, then he looked at her gently. “Of course, I remember.” My heart sank. The gardenia scent, mixed with the pine, grew denser, almost overpowering the aroma of the food. Sera suddenly gasped, her soup bowl tilting. The scalding broth spilled completely onto the back of her hand. “Ah!” Tears welled in her eyes from the pain, her skin instantly turning red. I was about to get up to grab the burn cream. Alistair had already leaped up like lightning, sweeping Sera into his arms. He didn’t even spare me a glance as he rushed upstairs to the bathroom, carrying her. “Don’t be scared, Sera, big brother will take care of it right away.” His voice was filled with urgency and concern. I stood alone by the messy dining table, looking at the spilled soup and broken crockery, feeling like an outsider. I silently cleaned up the mess, but faintly heard the sound of water from the upstairs bathroom. And Sera’s whimpering cries. The sounds were intermittent, ambiguous, making my stomach churn. A long time passed, long enough for me to clean the dining room spotless, before Alistair came downstairs, holding Sera. Her hand was bandaged, and her eyes were red as she leaned against him. “Eleanor, I’m sorry, I’ve caused trouble again.” I ignored her, looking only at Alistair. “Is her injury serious? Should I call the family doctor?” “No need, it’s just a minor burn. I’ve taken care of it.” Alistair’s tone was flat. I stared into his eyes. “You personally tended to her? In the bathroom?” Alistair’s brows furrowed, and the pine scent on him instantly grew several degrees colder. “Eleanor James, what are you implying?” “She’s my sister. She burned her hand. I helped her rinse it and apply medicine. Is there a problem?” “Can you not be so dirty-minded?” His words left me speechless. Yes, they were siblings. What exactly was I suspecting? But the intermingled scents, the ambiguous sounds of water, left me deeply unsettled. In the middle of the night, a nightmare woke me. Feeling the cold sheets beside me, I abruptly got up and walked to the guest room door. The guest room door was ajar. I pushed it open. Sera, wearing my pajamas, was curled up like a cat in Alistair’s arms. My husband, who should have been sleeping beside me, was gently holding her, stroking her back. Hearing the movement, Alistair slowly opened his eyes. Seeing me at the door, he showed no panic; instead, he frowned. “Why are you here?” His voice carried a hint of reproach. I pointed at Sera in his arms, my voice trembling. “Shouldn’t you explain yourself first?” “Why is she wearing my pajamas, sleeping in my husband’s arms?” Alistair sighed, his tone full of helplessness. “Sera had a nightmare tonight. I just came to comfort her.” “Eleanor, can’t you be a little kinder, show some understanding for a young girl like her?” “Be a little kinder” again. I almost didn’t recognize those words anymore! I closed my eyes, trying to calm my breathing. “Make her move out!” “I’ll find her the best apartment, hire the best nanny.” Alistair’s face instantly turned cold. “Impossible!” “This is Sera’s home too. She’s not going anywhere.” After saying that, he didn’t look at me again, re-closed his eyes, and hugged Sera in his arms even tighter. I stood at the doorway like an idiot, watching their intimate posture, feeling like I was suffocating. Back in the bedroom, I lay awake all night. It wasn’t until three in the morning that I was startled awake by a strange scent. I abruptly opened my eyes and saw a shadowy figure standing by my bed, silently staring at me. It was Sera. She was still wearing my pajamas, her long hair loose, looking ghostly in the dark. My heart pounded with fright. “What do you want?” She slowly bent down, leaned close to my ear, and whispered in a voice only we two could hear. “He was always mine.” “You’re the outsider.” With that, she straightened up, turned around, and calmly left my bedroom. I was cold all over, unable to sleep anymore. The next morning, when I used my face wash, my face suddenly stung. I quickly rinsed off the foam; my face in the mirror was already largely red and covered in tiny rashes. I picked up the bottle of face wash and sniffed it. Besides its original scent, there was a faint, irritating odor. My skincare products were all specially customized for my skin type; allergic ingredients were impossible. It had been swapped. I took the face wash downstairs and found Alistair eating breakfast. “Alistair, look at my face!” He looked up at my red and swollen face, his frown deepening. “What happened?” “It’s Sera! She swapped my face wash!” Alistair put down his knife and fork, took the bottle from my hand, and looked at it. “Isn’t this the brand you usually use?” “Eleanor James, are you becoming paranoid?” He put the bottle back on the table, a hint of impatience in his voice. “Maybe you just accidentally bought the wrong batch. Don’t blame everything on Sera.” Looking at this man who sided completely with someone else, confronting me, my thoughts drifted back to the past. Three years ago, I was an unknown perfumer. Alistair was a judge at that international perfume competition. He admired my talent; I fell in love with his purity. For him, I cut off all ties with my previous boyfriends. On our wedding night, he held me, and his pine scent was clearly intertwined with desire for me. I thought I had finally found the man I could entrust my life to. I thought our marriage, like his scent, would always remain pure. But a month ago, when Alistair excitedly told me he had found his long-lost sister, everything changed. Remembering Sera’s declaration last night, were they truly siblings? I stopped confronting them, put the matter aside, and went back to my room. I opened my laptop and, for the first time, clicked on Sera’s social media account. I scrolled back to three years ago. A photo popped up. It was a picture of her and a friend, the background being the venue of the perfume competition where Alistair and I first met. The caption read, “Met someone I really wanted to see, happy.” My heart sank little by little. I continued scrolling back and found that she had been following Alistair’s various activities for a long time. Every public event he attended, every post he made, she had liked. Even in the photos, the way she looked at him was filled with undisguised infatuation. This was not the look of a sister gazing at her brother. I closed the laptop, picked up my phone, and made a call. “Help me investigate Sera Hadley, and that paternity test between her and Alistair. I need to know the truth.” After hanging up, I felt all my strength drain away. Our wedding anniversary trip, originally scheduled for next week, was canceled. “Sera just arrived at our home. She’ll be scared alone. Let’s go next year.” I didn’t argue with him. It was useless to argue. Now, in his heart, Sera’s priority was always above mine. In the evening, I saw him return with a luxury brand bag. He casually placed the bag in the entryway, and Sera immediately rushed over like a little bird. “Wow! Brother, is this for me?” She pulled out a necklace from the bag, the pendant a uniquely designed star. It was a style I had casually mentioned I liked when shopping last month. At the time, Alistair had said it was too childish, not suitable for me. Now, this necklace was around Sera’s neck. She ran to Alistair, stood on her tiptoes, and tilted her head for him to see. “Brother, does it look good?” “Beautiful.” Alistair’s eyes held a tenderness I had never seen before. My heart felt like it was pricked by needles, an intense, throbbing pain. During the weekend family dinner, my in-laws were also present. At the table, Sera smiled sweetly, constantly serving the elderly couple food, her words dripping with honey. She deliberately brought up Alistair’s embarrassing childhood stories, describing them vividly, as if she had witnessed them firsthand. “Brother used to be so mischievous when he was little. Once he even broke the neighbor’s window, and I was the one who apologized for him.” I put down my chopsticks, looking at her coldly. “Didn’t you say you were separated for many years and only recently reunited?” “How would you know about his childhood?” The atmosphere at the table instantly froze. Sera’s face paled for a moment, then she tearfully reddened. “Eleanor, I… I just heard it from others.”

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At twelve, I was taken by men in black for protecting my young boyfriend from the orphanage. After six years of abuse by my adoptive parents, Craig Chen—a rising star in the capital’s elite circles—found me. Holding my scarred body, he apologized: “I’m sorry, I came too late.” We married quickly. On our wedding night, Craig pointed to a wall in his study covered in my photos, eyes red, and said: “I looked for you for six years. When my parents told me to forget you and tried to burn your pictures, I held a knife to my throat. I told them if they touched the photos, I’d die right there.” “I’ll make you the happiest woman in the world. You’ll never cry again.” We could snuggle all day or talk all night. I thought I’d escaped my nightmare. But Craig slowly stopped confiding in me. A new woman entered his life—Chloe, a gentle, capable Ivy League graduate, now his secretary. One evening, I overheard him murmuring softly on the phone: “Chloe, you really understand me.” Hanging up, he saw me and frowned coldly: “You’re as stupid as a pig. You can’t even organize a simple document?” He threw a file at me, his tone icy. “Chloe secured half the European market for me. And you? I built you a golden cage, yet you can’t even be a pretty ornament.” 1 I decided I needed to see Chloe for myself. I wanted to see what magic this girl possessed that made Craig say, “you understand me.” I drove to Craig’s company building and parked below, not going inside. I just sat in my car, watching the massive glass revolving door. At 5:30 PM, a girl in a white dress emerged. Her long hair cascaded over her shoulders, and a serene smile graced her face, making her seem as pure as a breeze. It was Chloe. I recognized her instantly; Craig’s phone wallpaper had been secretly changed to her. She seemed to be waiting for someone, looking down at her phone, a slight curve to her lips. I noticed her being harassed by a greasy middle-aged man. He was a business partner of Craig’s company, a notoriously difficult character I’d met before. “Ms. Li, just one drink, why be so ungracious?” The man blocked her path, his hand improperly reaching for her waist. Chloe frowned, dodging his attempt. A professional smile was on her face, but her tone was firm: “Mr. Davies, I really can’t handle alcohol. Next time, I’ll offer tea instead.” “Enough of that!” Mr. Davies’s face darkened. “You’ll drink tonight, whether you want to or not!” He reached out to grab Chloe’s wrist. I pushed open the café door and stepped inside. My high heels clicked crisply on the floor. I walked up to them, linked my arm through Chloe’s, and smiled at Mr. Davies. “Mr. Davies, what a coincidence.” Mr. Davies looked surprised to see me, then plastered on an obsequious smile: “Mrs. Chen, what brings you here?” “I’m meeting my sister for shopping. She’s a bit shy and not used to drinking with unfamiliar men,” I said, my tone calm but authoritative. Mr. Davies’s expression shifted several times before he grudgingly let go. “Oh, Mrs. Chen’s sister! My apologies, a complete misunderstanding.” He slinked away. “Sister, you… you’re amazing.” I smiled: “It was nothing.” She hurried over to me, took a business card from her bag, and handed it to me, her cheeks slightly flushed: “Sister, you saved me! I must treat you to dinner! Here’s my number, you absolutely have to call me!” She was sincere and enthusiastic, impossible to refuse. I looked into her clear eyes, my heart a complex mix of emotions. I had saved my rival. What kind of foolishness was this? 2 I intended to throw away that business card, but for some reason, I kept it. Three days later, Chloe called, her voice full of anticipation and warmth. “Sister, are you free today? My boss said he absolutely has to properly thank his rescuer. Shall we all have dinner together?” I gripped my phone, my heart squeezed by an invisible hand. Her boss. Craig Chen. “Alright,” I heard myself reply, my voice calm. I wanted to see what kind of battlefield it would be with the three of us sitting together. The restaurant was chosen by Chloe, a very stylish private dining establishment. I arrived first. Soon after, Chloe walked in, pulling a man with her. It was Craig. He wore a sharp black suit, so handsome he was impossible to look away from. The moment he saw me, the gentle smile on his face froze, his eyes instantly turning cold and unfamiliar. Chloe, oblivious, happily pulled him to me: “Sister, this is my boss, Craig Chen. Boss, this is the amazing sister who saved me!” I stood up, looking at Craig, waiting for him to speak. But he merely nodded curtly, pulled out a chair, and sat down, not looking at me once. The air was so awkward it could drip. Chloe, however, was like a cheerful little sun, trying hard to warm up the atmosphere. “Sister, you wouldn’t believe it, my boss is really super nice! And he’s incredibly devoted!” she said, looking at Craig with adoration. “He told me that when he was twelve, he met a girl at the orphanage. She was taken by bad guys while protecting him. He searched for her for six years, and he built this business empire just to find her.” My hands beneath the table clenched into fists, my nails digging deep into my flesh. Chloe continued: “He said that girl was his first love, the only person he ever wanted to marry. What a shame, it seems that girl broke up with him later. How short-sighted of her, to let go of such a wonderful man.” After she finished, she even gave Craig a sympathetic look. Craig picked up his teacup and took a sip. “Indeed,” he finally spoke, his voice indifferent, “some people are just ungrateful by nature.” I ate without tasting a thing throughout the dinner. It wasn’t until the meal concluded and Chloe went to the restroom that Craig finally stood up and walked over to me, looking down. “Scarlett, what game are you playing now?” His voice was as cold as ice. “Getting close to Chloe, what do you want?” “I don’t want anything,” I looked up, meeting his gaze. “I just want to know what makes her so much better than me, that’s all.” He scoffed. “She’s better than you in every way.” “She’s smart, capable, unlike you.” “Scarlett, you’d best stay away from her. Otherwise, I wouldn’t mind letting you taste what it’s like to have nothing again.” With that, he didn’t even look at me, turned, and walked away. Chloe conveniently emerged from the restroom, saw him, and happily ran over to link her arm through his. “Boss, let’s go.” “Mmm,” he replied, his voice resuming that familiar tenderness when speaking to her. Their retreating figures, side by side, pierced my heart. 3 After that dinner, Craig didn’t even bother to feign affection anymore. He stopped coming home. Chloe’s calls, however, came more and more frequently to me. She didn’t know I was Craig’s wife; she only saw me as a trusted sister with whom she could confide everything. “Sister Scarlett, Boss smashed his most cherished tea set for me today!” Chloe’s voice on the phone was a mix of shock and delight. “A client was being handsy with me, and Boss poured hot tea directly onto his face, saying he would never work with them again.” I gripped the phone, envisioning Craig’s face—a man with extreme mysophobia. He never allowed anyone to touch his belongings. Once, I accidentally brushed against his purple clay teapot, and he, in front of me, threw the entire million-dollar tea set, piece by piece, into the trash. He said, “It’s dirty.” “Sister Scarlett, Boss also took me to his private observatory! It was so romantic! He said it was his secret base and he only takes the most important people there.” That observatory was a gift Craig gave me for my eighteenth birthday. He had held me then, saying, “Scarlett, every star here shines just for you.” Now, he took another girl there, speaking the same sweet nothings. Even more ridiculous, Chloe meticulously recounted every detail of her dates with Craig to me. She would photograph every gift he gave her and send it to me. She would repeat every romantic word he said to her. She was like an innocent executioner, slicing my heart with the sweetest blade, cut by cut. And Craig, he tacitly allowed all of it. He even took Chloe’s calls in front of me without hesitation. One day, I was cutting fruit in the kitchen and accidentally cut my hand, bleeding profusely. Craig happened to come downstairs, saw the wound on my hand, frowned for a moment, then turned to get the first-aid kit. My heart fluttered; I thought he still cared. But just as he took out a bandage, ready to wrap my wound, his phone rang. It was Chloe. He immediately answered, his voice so gentle it could melt butter: “Chloe, what’s wrong?” Chloe’s tearful voice came from the other end: “Craig, I got a paper cut on my hand, it hurts so much.” “Don’t move, I’ll be right there!” He hung up, carelessly tossed the first-aid kit aside, didn’t even glance at me, grabbed his car keys, and rushed out. I stood there, looking at my still-bleeding finger and the scattered bandages on the floor. Blood dripped onto the floor, blooming into a small, desperate flower. I finally understood. It wasn’t that he wasn’t gentle, or that he didn’t have time. It was just that all his gentleness and time were given to someone else. And I couldn’t even compare to a scratch on her finger. Numbly, I cleaned my wound, then sent Craig a message. “Let’s get a divorce.” He didn’t reply.

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Desperate to pay my brother-in-law’s gambling debts, my mother-in-law and sister-in-law conspired with human traffickers. They stole my three-month-old son from his crib as I slept. I found him too late—frantic and broken. To avoid a police checkpoint, those monsters had smothered him in their car trunk. When I confronted my husband, he coldly covered my mouth. “Mom and Brenda were desperate. He’s gone now—can’t we just have another?” Brenda sneered, “He was just another mouth to feed. Selling him actually helped this family. You should thank me!” Overwhelmed by grief and rage, my heart stopped on the way to the police station. Then I opened my eyes. I was back in the night my son was taken. In the darkness, Martha and Brenda crept inside. “Hurry,” Brenda hissed. “The buyer said fifty thousand in cash tonight for a boy.” They grabbed the bundle from the crib and shoved it into the traffickers’ van. The next morning, Brenda counted a thick stack of bills, smirking triumphantly. “Alice, your boy just wasn’t meant for this world. He wandered off last night—try not to take it too hard.” I stared at her, confused, and pointed to the baby bassinet. “But… my baby is right here?” … My heart was hammering against my ribs, a frantic drum threatening to burst from my chest. I snapped my eyes open, staring at the familiar, shadowy ceiling. From the living room, hushed, urgent voices drifted in. “Come on, Mom, that miserable bitch is dead to the world. Let’s get this over with!” That was Brenda’s voice, sharp and cruel as always. Instinctively, my hand shot out to the space beside me in the bed. Empty. A tidal wave of panic crashed over me, cold and suffocating. But then, my mind cleared. I grabbed my phone from the nightstand and checked the time. 2:00 AM. The exact moment my son was taken from me in my previous life. I wasn’t dead. I was back. If I was being given a second chance, I would be damned if I let my son become that cold, bruised body in the back of a car again. The footsteps outside my door grew closer, punctuated by Martha’s trembling whisper. “But he’s a Miller… our blood…” “Bloodline this, bloodline that! If those loan sharks cut my husband up, there won’t be a Miller family left!” Brenda snapped back impatiently. I slipped out of bed, my bare feet silent on the cold floorboards. Pressing my ear to the door, I could hear them rummaging in the living room for the bottle of chloroform they’d prepared. Last time, they used it to make sure I was completely unconscious before they took my baby. That was my chance. I slid open the unlocked side door connecting my room to Brenda’s. A sliver of moonlight fell across her bed, illuminating her son, Kevin, sleeping like a little king. He was fat and pampered, sprawled out on his back, only two weeks older than my own child. As the first grandson, he was the family’s treasured prince. Brenda guarded him like a dragon, barely letting me get a glimpse of him. My baby, on the other hand, was seen as a burden. My difficult birth had cost the family a fortune in medical bills, and they never let me forget it. In three months, they hadn’t even bought him a decent pack of diapers. Looking at Kevin’s face, a perfect miniature of Brenda’s, a wild, brilliant idea exploded in my mind. If you’re so determined to sell a “Miller grandson,” then you’re going to sell the one that truly matters. The whole swap took less than two minutes. I was back in my bed, feigning sleep, just as the lock on my door clicked softly. Two shadows slipped into the room. The sweet, cloying scent of chloroform filled the air, and I held my breath. “Quick, quick!” Brenda whispered, eagerly pulling back a corner of the blanket. In the darkness, she didn’t bother to look closely. Her hand found the shape of a baby, and she scooped him up in one swift motion. “Hefty little thing. That’s our Miller stock for you,” Martha muttered with a hint of pride. “Stock? He’s just a sack of dead weight!” Brenda spat back, pulling a rough burlap sack over the baby’s head. Kevin let out a soft whimper in his sleep. “Shh! Don’t let him cry out!” Martha gasped, terrified. Brenda roughly clamped her hand over the sack’s opening. “Cry about what? This is fifty grand! He’ll be living like a king where he’s going!” Beside me, my husband, Rick, rolled over and mumbled, “So noisy… just get it done, Mom…” So he knew. He was in on it. Last time, when I was screaming, tearing my heart out, he told me our son had simply wandered off. This whole rotten family, this nest of vipers, they were all in on it together. I stared at Rick’s sleeping, deceitful face, and a firestorm of hatred roared to life inside me. I wanted to plunge a knife right into his chest. The two women tiptoed out, carrying the squirming burlap sack like thieves in the night. The front door clicked shut. I stared at my closed bedroom door, my nails digging so deep into my palms that they drew blood. Fifty thousand dollars. The price they put on my child’s life. Well, the deal is done. I hope you don’t tremble when you count your money, Brenda. The next morning, I was woken by loud, boisterous laughter from the living room. “Oh, my God, I’ve never seen so much cash!” Brenda’s voice was giddy with pure, unadulterated joy. I pushed my door open and walked out. The coffee table was covered in neat stacks of crisp hundred-dollar bills. Brenda was sitting cross-legged on the sofa, licking her thumb as she counted the money, her face split into a grotesque, triumphant grin. Martha sat beside her, shelling sunflower seeds. “Brenda, dear, is this enough to pay off the debt?” “Pay it off? There’s plenty left over!” Brenda grabbed a handful of bills and waved them in the air. “With this, I can buy whatever I want! I’m getting Kevin that expensive imported formula, no more of that cheap domestic crap for my boy!” Rick sat nearby, smoking a cigarette, his eyes glued to the money with a greedy gleam. When I stepped into the room, the joyful atmosphere instantly evaporated. Brenda froze, then quickly swept the cash behind her back, her expression shifting to one of theatrical sorrow. “Oh, Alice. You’re awake.” She stood up and walked over, patting my shoulder with fake sympathy. “Listen… there’s something I have to tell you. You need to be strong, okay?” I looked at her, my face a cold mask. “What is it?” “Well, the wind was really strong last night, must have blown your door open. When we woke up this morning… your baby was gone.” Brenda watched my face carefully for a reaction. “Must have been kidnappers. It’s a dangerous world out there. Try not to take it too hard. The boy was just unlucky, wasn’t meant to be yours.” Martha chimed in, “That’s right, Alice. What’s lost is lost. He was nothing but trouble anyway. Don’t go making a scene and bringing bad luck on the house. You’re young, you can have another one.” Rick stubbed out his cigarette, his voice laced with irritation. “That’s enough. Mom and Brenda are just trying to help. Stop looking so miserable, it’s depressing.” In my past life, those words would have sent me collapsing to the floor in a weeping heap. Now, I just found them pathetic. I walked to the kitchen counter, slowly poured myself a glass of water, and took a sip. “Oh? He’s missing?” I set the glass down, a small, ironic smile playing on my lips. “Brenda, are you sure it was my son who went missing?” My calm reaction threw her. Her eyes darted nervously. “What… are you in shock? Did you go crazy? Of course it was your son, who else would it be?” “That’s what’s so strange,” I said, turning and gesturing towards my bedroom door. “If he’s gone, then who’s that sleeping in my room?” The living room fell into a dead, suffocating silence. Brenda stared at me like I was insane. “What are you talking about? There’s someone in your room?” “If you don’t believe me, why don’t you go see for yourself?” I shrugged. Brenda’s eyes narrowed with suspicion. She shot a look at Martha, who looked just as bewildered. “Has she lost her mind?” “She’s probably hallucinating from the grief!” Brenda sneered, marching towards my room. “Let’s just see what kind of ghost you’ve conjured up!” She threw my door open. A few seconds passed. Then, a bloodcurdling scream tore through the house, sharp enough to shatter glass. “AAAAAHHH!!!” Brenda stumbled backward out of the room, her face pale as death. “Impossible… that’s impossible!” She pointed a trembling finger into my room. “That… that’s…” “That’s what?” I asked, crossing my arms, calmly watching her unravel. Suddenly, realization dawned on her face. She spun around and charged towards her own master bedroom. “My baby! My Kevin!” She kicked her door open and threw herself at the bed. A moment of silence, then a howl of agony that was even more desperate than her first scream. “He’s gone! My Kevin is gone!!!” Brenda burst back out, her hair a wild mess, clutching the empty baby blanket I had left for her. Her eyes were bulging from their sockets. “Alice! It was you! You hid my son, didn’t you!” she shrieked, lunging at me like a cornered animal. “Give me back my Kevin!” I sidestepped her attack and subtly stuck out my foot. Thud! Brenda went down hard, face-first, scattering the stacks of money across the floor. Red-and-green bills fluttered through the air like morbid confetti. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Brenda,” I said, looking down at her pathetic, sprawling form. “My baby is sleeping peacefully in my room. How is it my fault that yours is missing?” I bent down, picked up a hundred-dollar bill that had landed by my foot, and flicked it with my finger. “Besides,” I added, my voice dripping with insinuation, “it looks like you came into quite a bit of money this morning. This fifty thousand dollars… you didn’t happen to sell something valuable to get it, did you?” Brenda, lying on the floor surrounded by her blood money, began to tremble violently. “You bitch! It had to be you!” Brenda scrambled to her feet, her whole body shaking with rage. Her mind, twisted by greed and panic, concocted a desperate theory. “You must have woken up this morning and found your baby gone! So you came and stole mine to cover it up!” At her words, Martha and Rick stared, dumbfounded. Martha’s sunflower seeds scattered across the floor. “Brenda… are you saying… that was Kevin?” “Yes, Mom! It was her! This bitch swapped them!” Brenda wailed. “She must have found her own kid missing and stole mine so she wouldn’t have to face the shame!” She howled and charged at me again. This time, I was ready. Just as her fingers were about to tangle in my hair, I grabbed the pot of freshly brewed coffee from the counter and flung its scalding contents directly at her face. “AAAGGGHHH!” Brenda shrieked, clutching her face and writhing on the floor. “Alice, you’re insane! I’ll kill you!” “Stop it!” Rick, who had been watching from the sidelines, finally snapped out of his stupor. He lunged forward, grabbing my wrist in a vice-like grip. “What the hell are you doing! That’s Brenda! How dare you!” he roared, his eyes bloodshot. “Have you no heart? Her son is missing, and you do this? Give him back to her right now!” I stared coldly at the man I once shared a bed with. This was the same hand that had covered my mouth, silencing my screams of grief. I looked him straight in the eye. “Rick, your nephew goes missing and you’re this frantic. A few minutes ago, when they told me my child was gone, what were you doing?” “Shut up! It’s not the same!” he yelled back, righteous and indignant. “Kevin is the first grandson! He’s the heir! Now apologize to Brenda and give the baby back!” “Give him back? Go to hell!” I couldn’t hold back any longer. I lowered my head and sank my teeth into the wrist that held me. “AGH! Let go! Are you a dog?!” Rick howled in pain, his face contorting. He instinctively released me and swung his hand, slapping me hard across the face. My cheek stung, burning with pain, but I smiled. That slap severed the last, fragile thread of hope I ever had for this man, for this family. “Go on! Hit me again! Kill me!” I spat out a mouthful of blood and saliva. “Kill me, and you can wait for the police to come collect all of your bodies!” The word “police” made Martha flinch as if she’d been electrocuted. “No… no police!” Brenda, ignoring the searing pain on her face, scrambled up, her skin red and blistering beneath the coffee grounds. She shoved past everyone and stormed into my bedroom. “That is my Kevin! You just changed his clothes! I’ll know him when I see him!” She lunged for the bassinet and snatched the sleeping baby out of it. Startled awake, the baby began to wail, a loud, piercing cry. It was definitely the cry of a healthy boy. A manic glint of joy lit up Brenda’s eyes. “It’s him! That’s Kevin’s cry! Alice, you lying snake! I’m going to tear you apart!” She clutched the baby and rushed back out into the living room. “Mom! Look! It’s Kevin!” I stood my ground, not moving a muscle, and calmly smoothed the collar of my shirt that Rick had pulled askew. “Brenda, you might want to take a closer look before you claim him.” My quiet words stopped her in her tracks. She jerked her head down, staring at the baby in her arms. The infant’s face was still wet with tears, but his features… though all babies look similar, a mother knows her child. She sees them every day. Brenda’s hands began to shake. “It’s not… why doesn’t he look right…” she muttered to herself, before frantically starting to pull at the baby’s diaper. “The birthmark! My Kevin has a birthmark on his thigh! And he’s a boy! He’s my boy!” Martha hurried over, her eyes, along with Brenda’s, fixated on the baby’s lower body. Rick, forgetting the bite on his hand, craned his neck to see. “Of course it’s Kevin! This bitch is just trying to scare us!” I didn’t stop them. With a sharp rip, Brenda tore the diaper off. In that instant, the air in the room seemed to freeze. All three of them went completely still. The triumphant grin on Brenda’s face curdled and died. Martha’s eyes widened, her lips trembling, unable to form a sound. And Rick looked like he’d been struck by lightning, his jaw hanging slack. The baby’s smooth, pale skin was on full display. There was nothing there. No tell-tale sign of a boy. No birthmark. It was a girl. Unmistakably a girl. “How… how can it be a girl…” Brenda’s voice was a ragged, strangled whisper. She couldn’t believe it, turning the baby over and over, her hands searching desperately for something that wasn’t there. It was useless. This was my daughter. The same daughter who, in my past life, was sold by this family without even being given a name, all because she was a girl. And now, she was the stone that would shatter their world. “No! This is impossible!” Brenda shrieked, dropping the baby back into the bassinet. She whipped her head around to face me, the veins in her eyes bulging. “Where is he! What have you done with my Kevin! Where did you hide him?!” I walked over, my heart aching as I gently picked up my crying daughter, soothing her against my shoulder. Then I looked up, my gaze as sharp and cold as a shard of glass. “Brenda, are you forgetting what you did last night?” My voice was soft, but it carried a bone-deep chill. “At two in the morning, you and Mom carried a baby out of this house. You stood right by the door and said he was a boy, worth fifty thousand dollars.” I stared at Brenda’s face, which had drained of all color, and I spoke each word with deliberate, crushing weight. “So if the baby in my arms is a girl,” “who exactly was the little boy you stuffed in a sack and sold for the fifty thousand dollars on that table?”

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I was a man of immense wealth, with a trust fund in the tens of billions. Money was the only thing I had left. Almost the entire city was under my ownership, including the tranquil retreat where my wife, Anna Hayes, resided. In my past life, Anna claimed she was a celestial maiden reincarnated, unfit for the company of men. She even demanded I undergo a vasectomy, and I, besotted, complied. Decades passed. When I was old, my hair white, and gravely ill, she stood over me. With her lover Sterling’s daughter and granddaughter by her side, she slowly, deliberately, pulled my oxygen tube. “Sterling dedicated his life to raising our children for me, yet he always had to remain in the shadows. All of this, Simon, is because of you.” Her voice was cold, devoid of emotion. “I’ve grown tired of being your wife. All of your fortune, after you die, will belong to Sterling and our children.” Then, I opened my eyes. I was back. Back to the day my father, on his deathbed, instructed me to draw lots for my future bride. Now, I would watch. Without my bottomless pockets, could Anna Hayes still so serenely play her part as the celestial maiden? 1. My father lay on his deathbed, his voice weak but firm. “After I’m gone, only your wife and children will be by your side. That’s why the marriage lottery list is full of suitable young women from prominent families. You cannot be reckless this time, Simon.” In my past life, everyone knew I, Simon McKinnon, was my father’s only son, heir to billions, and notoriously uninterested in business. Every family wanted their daughter to marry into the McKinnon fortune. Matchmakers practically wore a path to our door, so my father devised the marriage lottery. But I, in my foolish infatuation, fell for the seemingly gentle and virtuous Anna Hayes. Without my father’s knowledge, I secretly added her name to the list. Now, knowing my father had only thirty minutes left, I choked back my tears. “Dad, I have someone I like, but it’s not Anna. She won’t care about our family’s money, and she’ll be good to me.” I swallowed hard. “So, I’ve decided to cancel the marriage lottery.” My father’s dim eyes suddenly flickered with a spark of light. “You’ve grown up, Simon. Do as you wish. I can finally rest and join your mother.” With those words, he closed his eyes. The news of his passing spread quickly. Soon after, I received a message from her. “Are you alright?” Remembering everything she did for me in my past life, I impulsively typed a reply: “No. I’m waiting for you to come back and marry me.” After that, I received no more messages from her. At my father’s funeral, Anna Hayes wasted no time making demands. “I am the reincarnation of a celestial maiden, Simon. I cannot be touched by worldly desires, especially not a man’s. If you marry me, you must remain celibate for life and undergo a vasectomy. It’s the only way to show the world my devotion to spiritual studies.” Seeing Anna’s haughty expression, I couldn’t help but ache for the fool I was in my past life. She claimed to love the tranquility of a temple, so I invested millions to build a grand Zen retreat for her. She spoke of ancient scriptures, and I spent a fortune lighting ceremonial lamps and acquiring priceless historical texts. I even funded a media company to promote her image as a “celestial maiden,” making her a household name. And what did she do in return? While I grieved my father’s death, she was secretly with her lover, Sterling Fumero, using my money to buy him luxury watches and sports cars. She even bore his child behind my back while I was away on business. The memories of my past life’s betrayal surged, and I barely suppressed a furious urge to throw her out. “You’re dreaming,” I said, my voice cold. “I have no intention of marrying you. You’re not welcome here. Leave.” Anna remained unperturbed, instead lecturing me. “Simon McKinnon, everyone dies eventually. Your father is dead, so what? Is there any need for such grief? I dislike your tone when you speak to me.” “As a celestial maiden’s partner, one must be detached from life and death. The money spent on your father’s funeral alone could gild a statue of Buddha. If you ask me, mixing your father’s ashes into fertilizer would be a far greater act of merit.” If I hadn’t been reborn, I might have believed her outrageous lies. Anna wasn’t a celestial maiden. She was a greedy, worthless parasite, and every penny she asked for was used to buy lavish mansions abroad. “Simon, I think Anna is right. Once old people are gone, they’re no better than fertilizer. You’re being far too extravagant.” I turned to see Sterling Fumero approaching, draped in a monk’s robe, affecting an air of false piety. I had planned to deal with Anna and Sterling after the funeral. But it seemed they were eager to walk straight into their own humiliation. In my past life, Sterling had posed as a devoted follower of Anna’s teachings, feigning friendship with me. He’d moved into my house after my father’s death, claiming to offer spiritual comfort, when in reality it was to facilitate his affair with Anna. He stole my luxury watches and cars while I was away, selling them for profit. He even drugged my food with hormones, weakening me and driving me into depression. “How my father’s funeral is handled is none of your business.” Sterling ignored my sharp retort, simply assuming I was upset about my father. “Simon, why don’t I move in with you? I can chant scriptures for you. Believe me, a house where someone has died is full of bad energy. Only a pure soul like me wouldn’t mind.” My face was a stone mask. “The only bad energy here comes from the two of you.” Seeing my unyielding attitude, Sterling adopted a wounded, humble expression. “Anna, I don’t know what I’ve done to offend Simon.” Anna’s brow furrowed in concern. She clearly felt sympathy for him. “Simon McKinnon, apologize!” Sterling continued to play the victim. “It’s alright, Anna.” He then reached out to pat my shoulder. In my past life, at my father’s funeral, I’d nearly suffocated from a severe pollen allergy. It had to have been Sterling’s doing. If I died, he would be free to be with Anna. I seized his wrist, and sure enough, found pollen dust hidden under his fingernails. “I have a severe pollen allergy, and you’re carrying pollen under your fingernails. Are you trying to kill me? A devout follower of the Buddha, so malicious?” Sterling was momentarily speechless, then stammered defensively. “I didn’t! It was an accident! I don’t even eat meat, how could I harm anyone? Anna, help me!” Anna interceded immediately. “Simon McKinnon, Sterling has explained himself. Release him at once.” I sneered, my gaze falling on the diamond watch on Sterling’s wrist. “The pollen was an ‘accident,’ but where did this diamond watch come from? It was my mother’s. Sterling Fumero, you’ve got nerve, stealing something worth a fortune. One word from me, and you’ll spend the rest of your life in prison!” Sterling’s face went white. He shot a panicked look at Anna. Anna showed no hint of remorse, speaking loudly and defiantly. “I gave him that watch! Sterling diligently studies spiritual teachings, and I rewarded his hard work. What’s wrong with that? Your possessions are my possessions. I know you dream of marrying me. Your property is my property, and I have every right to dispose of it!” I ripped the diamond watch from his wrist. “Then let me formally inform you, I no longer want you. You will receive no further assistance from the McKinnon family. Now take your lover and get out!” Sterling looked heartbroken at the loss of the watch. Anna’s face was beet red with fury. “What nonsense are you spouting? How dare you tarnish my relationship with Sterling! Lover? He is merely my devoted follower.” She then changed tack, her voice regaining a condescending tone. “Simon McKinnon, out of pity for you being an orphan, I’ll overlook this. Go home and copy ten sutras. Bring them to me tomorrow morning for inspection. Otherwise, I won’t come to the marriage lottery, much less marry you.” After causing a scene at my father’s funeral, the two of them left. Once I had dealt with all the funeral arrangements, I called my secretary. “Ethan, cut off all of Anna Hayes’s credit cards.” The next morning, I began my rounds, inspecting the company’s department stores, stabilizing morale. Not far away, in a high-end boutique, Anna and Sterling were shopping. “Darling, I like this one, and this one too,” Sterling cooed. Anna, indulging him, said, “This entire mall is ours, my love. Buy whatever you desire.” She handed her bank card to the sales assistant. A moment later, the assistant returned. “Madam Hayes, your card has been frozen.” Anna’s smug expression instantly twisted into one of mortified embarrassment. “Impossible! My card has an unlimited limit! You must have made a mistake.” The assistant re-swiped it in front of her. The computer screen clearly displayed “FROZEN.” Sterling whispered, “Did you tell Simon you wouldn’t attend the marriage lottery? Is this his way of putting pressure on you?” Just as he finished speaking, Anna spotted me. She marched towards me, her face contorted with accusation. “Simon McKinnon, I told you to copy ten sutras as penance, and I would consider forgiving you. But you just keep making mistakes.” “You’re resorting to such low-brow tactics as freezing my bank account, just to force me to marry you!” I chuckled. Who gave her this incredible self-confidence? “Copying sutras as penance? Does Buddha know you’re buying a hundred thousand dollar limited edition watch for your lover? How many sutras would you need to copy for that? You’re just a fake celestial maiden, a real gold-digger.” Without warning, Anna’s hand swung, slapping me across the face. “You’re just trying to make a scene! All you want is to force me to marry you! I told you I’m a celestial maiden, I can’t be touched by men, I can’t even have children! Agreeing to be with you all these years was an act of charity and pity!” I was about to retaliate when a crowd of reporters swarmed us. “Mr. McKinnon, are these intimate photos of you?” “Is it true you sent these private photos to seduce the celestial maiden?” Ignoring the stinging pain on my face, I quickly examined the photos the reporters thrust at me. At first, I was momentarily confused, but then I realized I had never taken such explicit photos. Then I saw Sterling Fumero’s smug grin. Was this his revenge for the diamond watch? Sterling stepped forward, feigning concern, but his words were meant to pour fuel on the fire. “Everyone, please don’t spread these photos. These are Simon’s private matters.” His statement indirectly confirmed that the person in the photos was me. The reporters immediately turned their microphones towards him. “It seems you’re an insider. Tell us, does Simon McKinnon truly have strange fetishes, craving women so desperately he needs three a night when he can’t have the celestial maiden?” “And the internet says Simon McKinnon often abuses you. Is that true?” Sterling immediately adopted the posture of a victim. “Please, don’t ask me anymore. Simon warned me not to speak out, otherwise I’d…” He trailed off, looking at me with feigned terror. “Simon, did I say something wrong? Please, I beg you, don’t hold my head underwater again, don’t stick needles in my fingers!” He then began slapping himself in the face in front of the horrified journalists. Sterling’s performance was disturbingly convincing. The reporters’ eyes turned to me, filled with disgust. “These wealthy elites truly treat people like dirt.” “He’s inhumane! Someone like this should be exposed!” I tried to calm them. “Sterling is spreading rumors. Everyone, please calm down. The photos are fake.” Seeing my earnest expression and sincere tone, the reporters’ anger subsided slightly. But then Anna stepped forward. “He did try to seduce me. And he even snatched Sterling’s watch. If a man like this takes over the McKinnon family, it will surely crumble.” With her words, the reporters’ last shred of doubt vanished. That night, multiple media outlets ran stories about me. The internet erupted. My personal information was doxxed, my phone bombarded with hate messages and threats. Obscene deepfake videos of me circulated on obscure websites. Even my mail was ripped open and vandalized. My company’s stock plummeted, losing hundreds of millions in just a few days. This was mere pocket change to me, but I was burning with fury at Anna and Sterling for their underhanded tactics. I discussed a counter-strategy with my company’s legal and PR teams. It was past ten when I finally returned home. “Just getting back now? Do you have any idea how bad your reputation is?” Anna was sitting on my sofa, speaking to me as if she were the owner and I, the dog. I was about to ask how she got in when I remembered: I hadn’t changed the fingerprint lock yet. “Get out of my house,” I said coldly. Anna ignored me, pointing to a document on the table. “This is a property transfer agreement. All your houses, cars, and company shares are to be transferred to my name.” I almost laughed at her audacity.

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The day my mother received her critical condition notice, I knelt before Cathy, my girlfriend of seven years, begging her to save my mom. Fifty dollars. It was barely the cost of one of Cathy’s fancy dinners. But at that moment, it was my mother’s life. After she refused, my forehead was bruised and bleeding from desperation. “I’ll do anything, Cathy, please! My mother is all I have left!” Cathy simply turned and walked away, not even sparing me a glance. Yet that very night, she spent three thousand dollars, showering her childhood friend, Ethan, with a thousand online ‘carnival’ gifts on his live stream, fueling his dream of becoming an internet celebrity. My mother passed away. I broke up with Cathy. Five years later, we met again at the grand opening of an exclusive luxury apartment complex. She was clinging to Ethan’s arm, looking down at me with disdain. “What? Five years later, have you fallen so far you’re selling real estate? Or are you deliberately waiting here, hoping to see me again?” “Forget it. Even if you knelt and begged me to come back now, I wouldn’t even bother looking at you.” But then my billionaire wife stood beside me, and Cathy exploded in a furious rant. “Adrian Winters! It’s only been five years since we broke up! How could you get married to someone else!” 1. I saw Cathy again at the grand opening of the Grandview Residences. Cathy was basking in the adoration of the crowd, clinging to Ethan Thorne’s arm. “Ms. Sedgwick is here today? I assume you’re picking out a home for yourself and your fiancé?” “Is this your fiancé, Ms. Sedgwick? He’s so handsome! I hear you two are childhood sweethearts. Truly a match made in heaven.” “This is a top-tier development by the renowned Bright Group from Emerald City. Only a luxury home in such a prime location is fitting for Ms. Sedgwick and her fiancé.” Cathy chuckled softly, covering her mouth with her hand. “Thank you, everyone. Please do grace us with your presence at our wedding.” I stood not far from them, observing the pair surrounded by the eager crowd with a cold gaze. The Grandview Residences was a development by my wife, Maya Bright. Maya had returned to Emerald City for some business a few days ago, so I was here to oversee the grand opening for her. Just then, my eyes met Cathy’s. She hesitated for a moment, then let out a small laugh and walked towards me, still clinging to Ethan. “I thought I’d mistaken you for someone else. But it really is you, Adrian Winters.” “What? Five years on, you realize you still can’t forget me, so you came here specifically to wait for me?” I was about to shake my head and deny it, but Cathy scoffed again. “The cheapest apartment at Grandview Residences costs five million dollars. You’re not going to tell me you’re here to buy a place, are you?” The sycophantic crowd that had been fawning over Cathy followed her, their expressions turning curious as they looked at me. “Ms. Sedgwick, who is this gentleman?” Cathy shot me a cold glance, then looked away without speaking. But Ethan spoke up then. “I don’t think you all know him, do you?” He paused for dramatic effect. “This is Mr. Adrian Winters. He’s the son of Cathy’s family’s former housekeeper. No one important, really. Nothing to worry about.” Cathy sneered. “Why even bother introducing him to everyone? Is he even worth it?” Cathy’s voice was icy, her disdain and revulsion undisguised. It was the exact same tone she’d used five years ago when she accused me of only wanting her money. Five years ago, my mother lay on the operating table, clinging to life, waiting for money to save her. I knelt before Cathy, my forehead bruised and bleeding. Cathy had looked at me with that same contemptuous gaze. “Ethan told me, and I didn’t believe it at first. But you really were with me just for my money.” “Adrian Winters, Adrian Winters, to stoop so low for a measly fifty dollars, I really underestimated you.” “Tell me, why are you so materialistic, so impatient? It disgusts me.” My thoughts were interrupted by a middle-aged couple by the display models. “Where’s the sales agent? Come tell us about this apartment.” My mind snapped back to the present. I couldn’t be bothered with Cathy and Ethan anymore. I walked directly to the couple. “Hello, do you have any questions about the property? I can answer them for you.” 2. The Grandview Residences was the most exclusive and sought-after property in the city. Whether people were there to buy a home or simply to rub shoulders with Maya Bright, the sales hall was packed. The sales agents were overwhelmed, and some potential clients were inevitably overlooked. After I answered a few questions for the middle-aged couple, they nodded in satisfaction and moved on to look at other properties. Just then, Cathy’s cold sneer echoed in my ears again. “Adrian Winters, after all these years, you still haven’t amounted to anything. Have you really fallen so low that you’re selling houses?” “You were a top student at the Academy of Finance back then. What kind of career is selling real estate? Are you really so content to waste your potential?” I glanced at Cathy. “I’m not a sales agent. I’m…” Before I could finish, Ethan wrapped an arm around Cathy’s waist, a dazzling, mocking smile on his face, cutting me off. “Cathy, don’t you know Adrian? He’s much smarter than you or I. How could he simply be here to sell houses?” “Grandview Residences is prime real estate, a gold mine. Look at the people who are here today.” “Adrian, Adrian, I can’t believe after all these years, you’re still dreaming of being a kept man.” I was tired of their endless taunts. I looked at them with a cold, unyielding gaze. “Kindly put an end to your sordid speculations. I find them repulsive.” I turned to walk away, but Cathy blocked my path. “Running away because we hit a nerve? Adrian Winters, five years, and you’re still the same. Is money truly so important to you?” “Don’t you feel ridiculous, trying to worm your way in here like this?” Ethan walked up to me, smiling. “You didn’t happen to hear that Cathy was coming today, and decided to wait here for her, did you?” “It’s been five years. Are you still pining for Cathy? If your feelings for her were so deep, why did you break up with her over fifty dollars back then?” “Or have you not found anyone better than Cathy in these five years, and now you want her back? You’re not trying to make Cathy your backup, are you?” “It’s okay, Adrian. What happened back then is in the past. Cathy and I are getting married soon. We’ll invite you to the wedding.” Hearing Ethan’s words, Cathy’s face clouded with anger. Her voice was even sharper than before. “What? You broke up with me over fifty dollars, then went off living like a playboy for five years, and now you’ve realized I was the best for you?” “Adrian Winters, Adrian Winters, you truly never change. In your eyes, there’s nothing but money.” “Alright, now get lost! Don’t stand there and annoy us!” Cathy gestured to her assistant, who quickly handed her a bank card. Cathy flung it hard at my face. The card clattered to the floor with a sharp sound. “This card has two hundred dollars on it. It’s not a small sum for you, so you won’t leave empty-handed today.” “Now, take the money and scram. Stop wasting your energy on me.” “Ethan’s right. People like you, with nothing but money on their minds, we’re simply not on the same level.” 3. I stared at the bank card on the floor. Although I had long since lost all affection for Cathy, a wave of baseless sorrow washed over me. Five years ago, I was Cathy’s boyfriend of seven years. Ethan was her childhood friend. But when my mother was on her deathbed, Cathy wouldn’t even lend me fifty dollars. Fifty dollars wasn’t a small amount to me. But for Cathy Sedgwick, the only daughter of the powerful Sedgwick family, it was nothing more than the cost of a single bottle of wine. She refused to lend me fifty dollars, but that very night, she spent three thousand dollars, showering a thousand ‘carnival’ gifts on Ethan, who dreamed of becoming an internet celebrity. Five years later, Ethan wore a seven-figure watch and drove a ten-million-dollar sports car. And she, Cathy, tossed me two hundred dollars with a disdainful air of charity. How utterly ridiculous. I looked up, meeting Cathy’s eyes, and let out a cold laugh. “Do I look like I’m short on money?” Cathy glanced at me, her eyes sweeping over me as if I were a pile of trash. “Not short on money? If you’re not short on money, why are you selling houses? If you’re not short on money, why are you slumming it here today, trying to hook up with some old rich woman?” “Adrian Winters, Adrian Winters, you’re just as stubborn as you were five years ago. You claimed you weren’t after my money, yet you broke up with me over fifty dollars. It’s disgusting.” I couldn’t be bothered to argue with her any further. “Cathy, where do you get the confidence to think I’d still be pining for a woman like you?” “I’ve been married for three years. This is my wife’s development. I’m simply here to check on things today.” “You’re nothing but a clown. What right do you have to speak to me like this?” Maya was due back today. Calculating the time, she should be arriving soon. Given Maya’s jealous nature, if I continued to get tangled up with Cathy, I’d be in for a rough night. My words were blunt, and Cathy’s chest heaved with anger. The surrounding crowd, however, erupted in a loud burst of laughter. “Hahahaha, what is this lunatic talking about? His wife’s development? Does he even know who the developer of this property is?” “This is Ms. Bright’s development! Ms. Bright is a force to be reckoned with, a powerful figure in Emerald City! A single word from her could turn the city upside down. How dare he say such a thing?” “We’re here today buying houses precisely because we want to connect with Ms. Bright, aren’t we? For him to bluster like this, it’s truly laughable.” Ethan quickly patted Cathy’s back, trying to comfort her. “It’s okay, Cathy. I know you’re kind enough to offer Adrian money, but maybe Adrian is telling the truth. Perhaps he genuinely isn’t short on money now.” “Look at the clothes he’s wearing. There are no labels, but they clearly look like they’re made by a top Italian tailor. He must indeed be doing quite well for himself.” “You don’t always have to think about helping him. He probably has his own connections now. Don’t worry so much.” Hearing Ethan’s words, Cathy’s expression abruptly darkened, her voice even lower than before. “Adrian Winters, have you really latched onto an older woman? Ha, it seems your little tricks do work sometimes. You actually managed to snag a sugar mommy.” “Alright, I’ll let bygones be bygones. If you want to be a kept man, then be mine.” “Serving me would surely be a better choice than serving those old women, wouldn’t it?” Ethan’s face immediately turned grim. I was content to watch them tear each other apart. I cast a sidelong glance at Cathy. “Oh? What’s this, Ms. Sedgwick? Are you still pining for me?” “Well, I suppose it’s natural. We were together for several years, so it’s understandable that you’d still think of me.” The moment my words left my lips, a flicker of embarrassment crossed Cathy’s eyes. My heart gave a start. Had I hit the nail on the head? For a moment, I didn’t know how to react. Suddenly, my thoughts were pulled back twelve years, to when I was eighteen. On my eighteenth birthday, Cathy stood before me, her cheeks flushed with shyness. “Adrian, I like you.” “I promise I’ll always be good to you.” The young girl’s eyes were resolute, as if all the stars in the sky had fallen into them, shining with an almost terrifying intensity. In that instant, my heart softened completely. As if by some strange impulse, I nodded, and we began our relationship. Looking at the crowd before me, I felt a dizzying sense of overwhelm. “I need to use the restroom.” Ethan quickly chimed in. “Perfect, I need to go too. I’ll go with Adrian.” The restroom was public, so I couldn’t stop Ethan. I didn’t object. It was just a trip to the restroom; surely nothing would happen. Ethan left the restroom shortly after he arrived. I paid no mind, simply washed my hands and walked out. But as I reached the restroom door, the commotion outside caught my attention. “This Adrian Winters, how can he be so light-fingered? Mr. Thorne kindly invited him to the restroom, and he actually stole Mr. Thorne’s watch!”

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I was raised by the powerful Ashworth family, though I was just their adopted daughter. My older sister, Eleanor, found me in a rubbish heap and, despite immense pressure from everyone, raised me. But then the supposed ‘true’ heir returned. … She cursed Eleanor, accusing her of usurpation, and had her cruelly tortured and killed. The Ashworth parents stood by, cold and indifferent, while their son secretly snickered. They murdered the best sister in the world. None of them deserve to live in peace. The day I learned of Eleanor’s death, I rushed back from out of town. Nearly seventy-eight hours without sleep, I almost collapsed when I saw her broken, bruised body. “Mommy, Elly… Eleanor died so terribly. It’s all my fault. If I hadn’t asked her to come back for my things, she wouldn’t have been assaulted and killed by those thugs. Waaah, Mommy, it’s all my fault…” Charlotte, in a frilly pink princess dress, clung to Mrs. Ashworth’s slender waist. Her eyes were red, her voice choked, but not a single tear fell. Eleanor, her wealthy mother, stroked Charlotte’s smooth, long hair, comforting her. “It was Eleanor’s bad luck, darling. How could it be your fault? Please stop crying, Mommy’s heart aches for you!” William Ashworth crunched on a lollipop, looking at Eleanor’s tattered corpse with undisguised disgust, a smirk playing on his lips. “Sis, don’t be sad over a stranger! It’s for the best she’s dead, saves her from meddling in everything. She never knew her place! Just a fake! She tricked us for years; it’s her own terrible fate!” “William! Don’t say that, Faith is still here.” Charlotte glanced at me fearfully, quickly retracting her gaze. William scoffed, “She’s just the adopted girl that fake brought back. Sis, why are you scared of her?” Mr. Ashworth, Arthur, shot him a fierce glare, and William turned away, falling silent. Arthur walked over to me. His features were refined, but his face showed no trace of sorrow. He simply stated, “The police are still hunting those thugs. They will pay for your sister’s life.” Pay for her life? I numbly lifted my eyes to look at the three of them. Their expressions varied, but none held an ounce of grief. Did they truly believe I knew nothing? The three Ashworths, in cahoots, took my sister’s life, and now they planned to pin it on some random thugs? They killed Eleanor. Not one of them will get away with it. I will make them pay with blood. I was seven when Eleanor found me. It was a brutal winter, and I was in a thin shirt, fighting stray dogs for scraps in a rubbish heap. Passersby avoided me, looking at me as if I were something filthy. When I finally managed to snatch a piece of stale bread from a dog’s mouth, I ravenously took a bite, then pulled my clothes tighter. I looked up and saw Eleanor. She wore a pristine white dress, extending her hand to me, a smile in her eyes. She looked like an angel. She said, “Little one, do you want to come home with me?” Later, I learned she was Eleanor Ashworth, the daughter of the powerful Ashworth family in the capital. Eleanor brought me back to the Ashworth mansion. I always thought wealthy people could do whatever they wanted, but Eleanor’s life in the Ashworth family wasn’t easy. She knelt outside for two days before Mr. Ashworth reluctantly agreed to adopt me. His condition was that he would arrange every aspect of Eleanor’s future life. Arthur sat high above, looking at me as if I were a small pet he could play with at will. Eleanor raised me. She was the most important person in my life. Eleanor was smart, brilliant, and she sheltered me under her wing, protecting me from any harm. Even though her own life in the Ashworth family was far from perfect. Eleanor barely tolerated her, and William despised her. Eleanor was merely a daughter of the Ashworths in name. When I was seventeen, Charlotte dramatically arrived with a DNA report, yelling at Eleanor, calling her a shameless imposter who had usurped her identity for years. That’s when I found out she was the true Ashworth heir, and Eleanor was merely a changeling. But to me, Eleanor was simply Eleanor. Eleanor was the best person in the world. If anyone harmed her, I would take their life. Charlotte was right; I was Eleanor’s loyal dog. A dog willing to do anything for her. I always repay kindness, and I always exact vengeance. After Eleanor’s death, the Ashworth family insisted on cremating her body immediately, claiming it was to let her rest in peace. It was as if they were desperate to hide some unspeakable secret. William sat with one leg crossed over the other, carelessly playing on his phone at Eleanor’s funeral, muttering curses at his teammates. His loud, obnoxious voice disturbed Eleanor’s peace. In the past, Eleanor would have curbed his behavior, and his resentment, having been controlled by her since childhood, festered. He had wished for her early demise. Charlotte was unlike Eleanor. She never disciplined William; instead, she constantly flattered and pleased him, which William enjoyed, making him even more reckless. I walked up to him, snatched his phone, and smashed it on the ground. William shrieked, lunging at me. “Faith Ashworth, are you out of your mind! Why did you smash my phone!” I kicked him away and slapped him hard across the face. The commotion drew immediate attention. Charlotte quickly squeezed next to William, exclaiming, “Faith! What are you doing! William was just playing a game. Even if you dislike him, you shouldn’t take it out on him! William is the Ashworth heir, after all! If you have any grievances, take them out on me!” Charlotte shielded William, feigning nobility. She wiped away an imaginary tear. “I know you look down on me. I’m just a child Mommy recently found, so I didn’t receive a good education before, naturally, I can’t compare to Eleanor. But, Faith! You don’t have any blood relation to the Ashworths. How can you bully William?” Charlotte appeared delicate, but subtly mocked me as a mere adopted daughter, an outsider. I saw the hidden triumph in her eyes. I knew Charlotte was always like this. She loved to feel superior to me, satisfying her vanity. Those who came to mourn Eleanor heard Charlotte’s words and began to murmur, mostly siding with Charlotte. After all, the true heir had returned, and they had to play along, didn’t they? It wasn’t worth offending the true heir for an adopted daughter like me. Charlotte, hearing the crowd’s agreement, became even more smug, unable to hide the smile at the corner of her lips. So outwardly pleased, she couldn’t even compare to Eleanor. Her smugness made her tone towards me considerably worse. “Faith, since Eleanor is dead, there’s no need for you to stay at the Ashworths anymore. I think you should pack your bags and leave now, save us the trouble of seeing you!” Charlotte’s mouth kept going, and when she uttered those words, everyone fell silent. Even William, hiding behind her, stared wide-eyed, completely astonished. Charlotte, however, didn’t notice. I looked at her, like a clown, and couldn’t help but chuckle. I certainly wanted to leave the Ashworth family, but it was Arthur himself who had insisted I stay. The reason I had lived comfortably in the Ashworth family for so many years, with no one daring to touch me, was not without cause. How could Charlotte, a newly found heir, think she could step all over me? By dreaming? “Rare to see you so quiet? Usually, you’re quite sharp-tongued, aren’t you?” A teasing voice came from behind me. I didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. It was Sterling, the new head of the Sterling family. The Sterlings were a venerable, powerful family; the Ashworths barely registered in comparison. Sterling was quite fond of me. Arthur, desperate to cling to the Sterling family, had tried every possible way to keep me. Besides, could Arthur alone truly hold the Ashworth Group so firmly? Wasn’t it largely thanks to my assistance? Seeing I didn’t speak, Sterling dropped his jovial expression. He looked down at Charlotte, who stood in front of me. Honestly, Sterling was very handsome. Charlotte blushed, stepped forward, pushing me aside, and shyly extended her hand to Sterling. “Hello, sir, my name is Charlotte Ashworth, the daughter of the Ashworth family. May I have the honor of knowing your name?” I looked at the posturing Charlotte, feeling a slight amusement. Charlotte had only recently returned to the Ashworth family and hadn’t met many people in high society. It was natural she wouldn’t know that the young man in front of her was the head of the Sterling family. Sterling turned to Arthur, who stood behind him with a livid face, and said calmly, “Is this the Ashworth daughter? She truly lacks refinement.” Charlotte’s smile finally faltered. Arthur stepped forward and slapped her across the face. Despite Charlotte’s shocked expression, he still couldn’t help but speak up for her. “Charlotte has only recently returned; please don’t take offense.” When Eleanor was alive, if she made a mistake, she would never have gotten off with just a simple slap, let alone someone speaking up for her. Arthur was much kinder to Charlotte than to Eleanor. But Charlotte showed no gratitude. Her eyes red, she opened her mouth to argue with Arthur. Eleanor quickly covered her mouth, whispering a few comforting words, and Charlotte finally relented. Sterling winked at me, then followed Arthur to the back room. Seeing Arthur finally leave, Charlotte, her eyes red and full of rage, came up to me, looking as if she wanted to flay me alive. “You’re happy to see me make a fool of myself, aren’t you! Just you wait and see!” I didn’t expect Charlotte to take over Eleanor’s room after the funeral. Eleanor’s room wasn’t even half the size of Charlotte’s master bedroom, but Charlotte insisted on having all of Eleanor’s belongings thrown out. “It’s perfect; I need a study. Eleanor is dead anyway, so I’ll use her room. Keeping dead people’s things is bad luck, so I might as well throw everything out. Otherwise, it would just make me sad to look at them later.” I knelt on the floor, my hands trembling as I picked up a glass bottle Eleanor cherished. It was filled with beautiful fine sand. But now the glass jar was shattered, and the sand was scattered across the floor. She folded her arms and scoffed, “Yesterday, if it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have made a fool of myself in front of Sterling! I’m warning you, Sterling’s future wife will be me, and only me. What do you even think you are?” She finished speaking and walked away, arms crossed. I ignored her. I meticulously picked up Eleanor’s things from the floor. A housemaid nearby sighed, then, unable to bear it, knelt down to help me. I recognized her; she had practically raised Eleanor. The housemaid comforted me, “They’re both daughters, but when Miss Eleanor was young, Mrs. and Mr. barely cared for her. Why are they so concerned about her now?” She spoke indignantly on Eleanor’s behalf. I tightened my grip on a shard of glass and looked in the direction Charlotte had disappeared. She wouldn’t be smug for long. The rural couple who raised Charlotte, I discovered during my investigation, were distant cousins of Arthur. This couple had never ill-treated Charlotte since she was a child, but being rural folk, they harbored some ingrained patriarchal beliefs. Their only biological son recently started dating and was insistent on buying a house in the city to get married. However, a lifetime of savings for a rural couple wouldn’t even buy a city toilet, let alone a house. Seeing their prospective daughter-in-law about to slip away, the elderly couple fretted like ants on a hot pan. So, when I approached them under Charlotte’s name, they readily agreed to meet. The adoptive mother’s eyes sparkled as she confirmed with me, “Charlotte, that child, is actually the Ashworth heiress?!” Her adoptive father, smiling broadly, added, “That child lied to us, saying she was from an ordinary family! If she’s really an Ashworth, wouldn’t Charlotte be living a divine life, like on TV!” I nodded at them. “The Ashworth family has more money than they could spend in generations, and Charlotte, naturally, misses you very much.” The couple clapped their hands. “Since Charlotte is so rich now, and her brother is getting married soon, why don’t we go ask her for some money! After all, we spent a lot raising her! No matter what, she’s still our son’s sister!” I looked at the ecstatic couple before me, took a sip of tea, and concealed the smile on my lips. Human greed. While their words sounded good now, if they were to truly witness what a life of luxury entailed, they would undoubtedly cling to Charlotte forever, never wanting to leave. After dealing with Charlotte’s adoptive parents, I took a bouquet of flowers to Eleanor’s grave. Unexpectedly, I ran into Sterling there. He and I, rather than friends, were more like rivals. I had helped the Ashworth family snatch several projects from him, yet he showed no sign of anger. I didn’t believe in his magnanimity; after all, many families who offended him ended up bankrupt. He smiled when he saw me, then gestured. “I knew you’d come. Eleanor’s death was suspicious, so when her body was sent to the hospital, I secretly had an autopsy done, and I found some very interesting things. I brought them specially for you.” I remembered that the hospital Eleanor was sent to was owned by the Sterling family. Eleanor was cremated so quickly I had no time to examine her body. The words “missing heart” on the autopsy report were particularly jarring. I recalled that William, who suffered from congenital heart disease, hadn’t taken medication for a long time after Eleanor’s death. His originally pale complexion grew rosier by the day, looking nothing like someone with a chronic illness. Since childhood, Eleanor had undergone a full physical examination almost every month. And now, everything seemed to have an answer. My sister had been raised as an organ ‘donor’ for William. My breath suddenly hitched, and I almost collapsed. Sterling, seeing my distress, supported me. I bit my tongue, the metallic taste of blood bringing me back to my senses. I thanked him hoarsely. “Why are you helping me?” Honestly, Sterling and I weren’t particularly close. I didn’t believe anyone would do something at a loss. Sterling paused slightly, then spoke cautiously. “I just feel you resemble someone I know.” He touched my head, then placed his hand behind his back. “Perhaps I was mistaken.”

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Three months into my pregnancy, Henry abandoned me on a sinking cruise ship. All because his childhood sweetheart, Lena, shrieked that she was afraid of water. I pleaded with him to save me and our baby, but he pushed me off the lifeboat. “Can’t you swim? You won’t die!” After being rescued from the sea, I needed surgery for the loss of our baby, but I couldn’t reach Henry to sign the consent form. Then, I saw Lena’s social media post: “True love revealed in hardship. Mr. Dungey, it’s an honor.” The picture showed them wrapped in the same blanket, soaked and scantily clad. After recovering, I drove straight to the Rockies. Henry, who hadn’t contacted me for a month, frantically called me. “Windy, the wedding dress is ready. Aren’t you getting married anymore?” 1. After the farewell convoy departed, I switched on my old phone. Hundreds of missed calls from Henry popped up. Answering, Henry’s voice, thick with suppressed anger, demanded, “Windy, where have you been lately?” “I couldn’t reach you on your phone, and you didn’t reply to my messages. My parents reminded you several times to try on the wedding dress, but they couldn’t find you. Do you even want to get married anymore?” I looked at the signed divorce papers in my hand. “Then let’s not bother!” “Windy, what fresh madness is this?” “You were the one who said we’d only get the marriage certificate without a ceremony, and now the invitations have been sent out, and you’re backing out again!” The sound on the other end was noisy. A sweet female voice was comforting him, and his tone softened slightly after being soothed. “Wait there, I’ll pick you up first. We’ll go try on the wedding dress.” The wedding dress was custom-made, and the most expensive part of this minimalist wedding. I had fantasized countless times about marrying him in the most beautiful dress, watched by friends and family. Now, I simply didn’t care. Henry had a new car, a striking sapphire blue, quite flashy. Sitting in the passenger seat, the sunlight was blinding. I pulled down the sun visor and saw lipstick writing on the mirror: “Mr. Dungey love Ms. Lane.” Henry suddenly explained to me, “I replaced the previous car. It was too cheap, unfitting for my status.” That car had been a birthday gift I saved up for, painstakingly. From its color to its interior, every detail was carefully chosen by me. Like me, it had been replaced by Henry. The car stopped in front of the bridal shop. I didn’t get out. “When did you change shops? I remember I chose the one by ‘A’.” Henry pulled me out of the car, casually replying, “A friend said this one was nicer.” I preferred silk wedding gowns, but this shop, from inside to out, was filled with exaggerated ballgowns. My wedding dress was already chosen, yet it was so easily changed to suit Lena’s preference. A salesperson led me to the fitting room. The dress fit well but clashed with my demeanor, much like Henry and I now. Henry looked at me, a rare hint of amazement in his eyes. But I knew it was only for the dress. He deliberately avoided looking at me, imagining Lena wearing it. “This is the one!” he decided without hesitation. I silently allowed him to pull me away. After getting into the car, he asked me, “Why the long face after trying on the wedding dress?” “Haven’t you already had your fun? Still not happy?” “How long are you going to be jealous over such a small thing?” During last month’s cruise trip, when the ship hit a reef and was about to sink, he pushed me off the lifeboat. All because Lena was afraid of water, and I had learned to swim ten years ago. I lost our baby, yet he found his true love, almost completely forgetting about it. Seeing my silence, he began to lecture me. “Of all places, why did you have to go to the mountains!” “And you were pregnant! You’re not twenty anymore; why can’t you be more responsible?” “As a mother, you need to be more steady! The baby is your responsibility now.” I said coldly, “And he wasn’t your responsibility?” “The day the cruise ship sank, when you pushed me off, did you think about the responsibility I carried in my belly?” Henry turned his face away. “Don’t try to twist my words here. I’m not falling for it.” “Go get checked, make sure the baby is alright.” Looking up, we were at the entrance of the obstetrics and gynecology department. The doctor who performed my abortion nervously asked me, “Didn’t you have an abortion last month? Are you feeling unwell?” 2. Henry, who had been lazily sitting aside, looking at his phone, froze when he heard this. “Abortion surgery?” “Windy, you had an abortion behind my back? When was this?” The waiting room was crowded, and all eyes were on us. I looked at his betrayed expression, suddenly remembering two months ago, when he had just discovered my pregnancy and was happily spinning me around in the same hospital lobby. When we first got married, we weren’t well-off. We had been legally married for years but never had a wedding ceremony. It wasn’t until after I got pregnant and our financial situation improved that I brought up the wedding again, and he was eager then. But now, his indifference tore me apart. In two months, he found true love, and my love sank to the bottom of the ocean. Someone came to mediate, and Henry frowned, pulling me into the stairwell. “June 3rd.” I looked up and saw the anger on his face solidify. That day, the cruise ship accident happened. I was abandoned in the cold sea for five hours before being pulled out. And he had already confessed his heart to Lena and gone home with her. Henry’s voice softened. “Did you get checked after your surgery? You shouldn’t hurt your body.” “You suffered so much and didn’t tell me, running off to the mountains by yourself without proper rest.” He reached out and put his arm around my shoulder. “Let me still take you for a check-up, in case there are any lingering effects. We can have children later.” A phone rang in the empty stairwell—a love song. Henry always used the default ringtone, but for Lena, he was always willing to create unique romantic gestures. Lena’s playful voice came from the other end. “Mr. Dungey, are you free today? I was thinking, the cruise ship accident was too dangerous. To protect myself, I need to learn how to swim.” “Would Mr. Dungey be my exclusive coach?” “I’ve been afraid of water since I was little, and I only trust Mr. Dungey.” Henry clearly enjoyed this kind of affection, an unconscious smile spreading across his face. After hanging up, he glanced at me, annoyance in his eyes. “If you hadn’t had the abortion, none of this would be happening.” “Let’s skip today’s check-up. Something urgent came up. I’ll ask my mom to bring you another day!” He left in a hurry, not even taking me with him. I pushed open the door, walked out into the pitying stares of the lobby, and hailed a taxi. It was already July, and the air was hot and suffocating. It felt like drowning in seawater, my heart aching with a dull pain, yet not a single tear could fall. Back home, Henry’s mother called, her voice stern. “Windy, I heard about the abortion.” “You’re just unlucky.” “I’ll take you for a check-up in a couple of days, to make sure it doesn’t affect your future fertility.” I didn’t respond, and her voice softened slightly. “Windy, you grew up without parents. Your uncle and I treat you like our own daughter.” “Don’t blame me for being blunt. A child is gone; life goes on. I’m just worried about your health. If you can have children, then your family line will continue!” Once, I genuinely considered her a mother, thinking that by marrying Henry, I would have a complete family again. But now, I saw clearly that her seemingly righteous words were only about my fertility. “Tomorrow, I’ve invited a priest to perform a ritual for the baby at home. I’ll have Henry come back to send him off too.” “The baby is gone, but your relationship still needs to last.” I placed the old phone face down on the table. If I didn’t listen, I wouldn’t hurt anymore. 3. Perhaps it was from not eating all day, but when I lay down, my stomach cramped with agonizing pain. I wanted to go downstairs and grab something, but I felt nauseous and had no appetite. This marital home, filled with his presence, made me feel utterly miserable. Breaking out in a cold sweat, stars dancing before my eyes, I opened my phone to buy some medicine. Instead, I saw Lena had updated her social media again and even specifically sent me a screenshot. After confirming I had seen it, she retracted the message. “Mr. Dungey is my private swimming coach today!” The picture showed a sparkling blue pool and a selfie of Lena in a bikini. She was sitting on Henry’s lap. Henry’s face wasn’t visible, but the tattoo on his abs was unmistakable. It was my initials, once a symbol of our love. The pain of the stomach cramps, accompanied by ringing in my ears and nausea, surged, and my phone clattered onto the bed. After an unknown amount of time, I recovered somewhat and walked to the door, hearing Henry’s movements as he came home. He was climbing the stairs, on a video call with Lena. His voice was soft and tender, full of affection. “I’m going to the city for a business trip next month. Are you coming?” Lena chuckled. “Of course. We’re going to leave traces of our love everywhere.” I leaned against the door, curled up into myself. No one wants to give up someone they love so dearly. But when silence and heartache accumulate, even if it hurts terribly, it’s time to leave. Henry and I once supported each other, from two junior interns in the company to department directors. We had seen the city at four in the morning, worked overtime for half a year straight, postponed, and then finally canceled our wedding, all for one major project. In the busiest, most exhausting, and toughest times, we would prepare lunchboxes for each other. When we finally found a moment to open them, the food had already spoiled. We comforted each other, promising that after our careers succeeded, and before our rescheduled wedding, we would go to the mountains together, to see the golden sunlight on the peaks. But in the end, only I went. I searched through the embers of our love, but could no longer find a single spark. The next night, I was awakened by the mournful sounds of instruments. Henry’s mother had indeed hired a funeral band, and even prepared a memorial tablet for the unborn child. Henry was ordered to keep vigil, his head bowed, tapping on his phone screen the whole time. Only when I got closer did I see the chat window with Lena. “My mom is making a mountain out of a molehill!” “It’s just a dead baby, without even a name, a tiny fertilized egg, why keep vigil for it!” “It’s not like Windy died.” “I promised to take you to the hot spring resort yesterday, but we’ll have to go another time.” I returned to my room, opened the company system, and submitted my resignation. I used to dislike Oceanport, but it was Henry’s home, so I stayed here for many years. I didn’t speak the local dialect, didn’t like the local cuisine; I was always an out-of-place outsider. Now, I was determined to start a new life, so I would leave! 4. Before leaving, I went to the company to handle my resignation and bumped into Lena bringing lunch to Henry. “You got fired?” Her eyes were taunting. “Serves you right!” “I told Mr. Dungey long ago that IT isn’t suitable for women. See, you stayed so long, and you still have to leave!” She patted my shoulder. “Windy, love is the same. Incompatible people, even if they get married, will eventually divorce.” “Besides, who even knows about your marriage, apart from having a certificate?” I pushed her hand away and walked straight to the door. She thought I didn’t know that these past two months, Henry and she often secretly stayed on the company’s rooftop. Lunch break ended at two, but as soon as she brought Henry his meal, he would stay on the rooftop until four before coming down to work. He was the Deputy Director of Marketing, often on business trips, so he rarely came to the office. He wasn’t at home either; he was probably enjoying himself with Lena. However, from now on, he probably wouldn’t be smiling. When I resigned, Mr. Edwards spoke to me from the heart, but his message was clear: he was going to fire Henry. Previously, as Director of R&D and a key figure in the company, our relationship made it difficult to embarrass Henry. But now, with my firm decision to leave, the Deputy Director of Marketing position could be replaced. Mr. Edwards said, “Mr. Davies’s son just graduated and returned home, and Mr. Davies intends for him to take over as director.” I said, “Then let it be so!” As I walked out the main entrance, it was almost noon, and Henry was just hurrying in to clock in for work. Seeing me with a box, he was first puzzled, then quickly understood. “Alright, the wedding is this Sunday.” “Go home and rest well. After you’re married, don’t run off anymore. That way you’ll also have an easier time.” Lena stood behind me, her tone intimate. “Is Mr. Dungey looking down on ambitious career women?” She was a makeup artist, traveling everywhere to do makeup. As far as I knew, at least four or five times, Henry told me he was on a business trip, but he was actually traveling with her. Henry and I had been married for so many years and had never traveled together, except for the cruise trip. The trip to the Rockies I always wanted was postponed again and again. But that one time, when I suggested the cruise trip, he didn’t refuse. It was only because Lena was also going. I looked up. Henry’s smile was radiant, as tender as when we were first in love. “Lena, you know you’re different.” That tenderness was already someone else’s. My colleagues in the department wanted to hold a farewell party for me. I didn’t want to make a big deal, so I quietly left. This only further convinced Henry that I was out of options in the industry, heartbroken after losing the baby, and was returning home to be a housewife. He coldly brushed past me, saying only one thing. “After the wedding, I’ll give you everything you want.” “Stop with your childish antics and schemes!” I smiled. “Alright, I won’t cause trouble anymore.” And I don’t want you anymore. “Henry, let’s get a divorce!” He scoffed. “Windy, were you fired and it upset you?” “The cost of living in Oceanport is so high. You’ve lost your job and you want a divorce from me. Wouldn’t you have to slink away from Oceanport?” He finally dropped his pretense, revealing a harsh, sneering face. I wasn’t surprised, didn’t give him a glance, and hailed a taxi to leave. Back home, the bridal shop had already delivered the ordered wedding dress. The enormous ballgown filled the wardrobe to bursting. I gazed at the magnificent skirt, but I couldn’t recall the joy I felt when we first started planning the wedding. Grabbing a pair of scissors, I cut the skirt into shreds, then tossed it into the trash along with my wedding ring. The garbage truck swallowed the white tulle, now stained, like this chaotic love.

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The night before the wedding, Mike called, slurring drunk. “Chloe’s planned a surprise, you’ll definitely love it.” The music was loud, and no matter how I called, Mike didn’t reply. Then I remembered, he was at a bachelor party thrown by his “girl-bestie,” Chloe. The next day at ten, when the wedding car pulled up to the Miller estate, a dozen banners fluttered in the wind. “I’ve slept with the groom; ask me anything.” The fluttering banners slapped me hard like open hands. Whispers erupted. I rolled up the window and told the driver to turn around. If he wanted to leave those banners up, I had no choice but to call off the wedding. 1. “Claire, what is wrong with you?” Mike had his groomsmen line up in front of the car. He furiously knocked on the back window. “Get out. What are you waiting for? Don’t miss the auspicious time.” I pointed at the fluttering banners. “You have those banners removed, and the wedding continues. Otherwise, I’m returning to the Dawson estate.” As if she had expected me to say this, Chloe’s face clouded over. “See? I told you she’s so old-fashioned; she can’t handle this kind of surprise.” “Take them down, take them down. For your son’s happiness, Dad doesn’t mind.” Her words contradicted her expression, which was clearly unwilling. “Take what down? I love them.” “Claire, why are you so rigid? Chloe didn’t even rest last night to prepare these banners.” I pointed at the words on the banners, questioning him. “Do you think the fact that you two ‘slept together’ is something to be proud of? Do you really need to announce it publicly on our wedding day?” Chloe’s tone was sweet and innocent. “Claire, Mike and I have been best friends since childhood. Is there any part of him I don’t know?” “The ‘slept together’ on the banner isn’t what you think it means.” Chloe’s explanation only intensified everyone’s suspicion. “I’ve never seen anything like it. Is this woman trying to declare ownership?” “How else can ‘slept together’ mean? Everyone here is an adult. What’s with this ‘best friends’ nonsense?” “Haven’t you heard? The groom still has to spend tonight with her. They’re definitely not innocent.” The murmurs, growing louder, reached my ears, and my face burned with shame. “Mike, I’m giving you one last chance. Take down the banners, and the wedding proceeds, or I’ll turn back to the Dawson estate, and we call off the engagement.” As if to back up Chloe, he blocked the staff trying to remove the banners. “This is the Miller family’s property. Who dares to move anything without my command?” “Get out of the car, Claire. If you keep this up, you’ll not only shame Chloe but also put the Miller family in a very difficult position.” Chloe stood behind Mike, a defiant glint in her eyes. “If you won’t remove them, then I absolutely won’t get out of the car.” A throng of people poured out of the hotel. “Claire, get out of the car quickly. My mom and dad have personally come to greet you. Don’t be ungracious.” Mike’s parents stood in front of the car. Chloe naturally linked arms with Mrs. Miller. “Aunt Eleanor, it’s all my fault. I just thought I’d liven up the wedding atmosphere and put up a few banners.” Mrs. Miller followed Chloe’s gaze to the banners, the words making her pause for a few seconds. “I didn’t realize Claire wouldn’t like them. It’s my mistake; I’ll have them taken down now.” Mike pulled Chloe back. “Take what down? I said, this is the Miller family’s property. You can hang whatever banners you want.” “She hasn’t married into the Miller family yet. She doesn’t get to decide.” Mike’s words were exactly what Mrs. Miller wanted to hear. Even though my marriage to Mike was an arranged family alliance, my father wasn’t from the main Dawson lineage. I hadn’t lived in the capital since childhood, and she was very displeased with the Dawson family’s decision to marry me to Mike. She smiled sweetly, had the driver roll down the window, and took my hand. “Claire, on such a joyous day, a commotion would not look good for either the Miller or Dawson families.” “Chloe grew up with Mike; I know her character. These banners are just a joke, harmless.” “Listen to Aunt Eleanor, get out of the car quickly. Don’t miss the auspicious time.” Mrs. Miller’s attitude emboldened Chloe. She tugged hard at the car door, trying to pull me out. In that moment, I became a clown for all to see. Gazing at Mike’s indifference and Mrs. Miller’s intention to assert her dominance, I smoothed out my creased dress and opened the door. I had intended to save the Miller family face by simply calling off the wedding. But they insisted on pushing. Whatever happened next, they couldn’t blame me. 2. I shoved the car door open fiercely, and Chloe was knocked backwards. “Ah! That hurt!” Mike helped her up, cradling her in his arms. “Oops, I was just joking with Chloe and accidentally used too much force. I didn’t mean it. She doesn’t mind, does she?” Chloe, who was about to erupt, instantly fell silent. She stood up straight. “Of course not. Claire is so generous; she even accepted my banners, so naturally, I won’t be angry.” She had fallen awkwardly, and the limited-edition wedding dress she had snatched from me was now stained. Mike naturally took off his suit jacket and draped it over her shoulders. “Mike, my foot hurts.” Mike, without a word, scooped Chloe up into his arms. “What are you standing around for? Follow along!” The red carpet, which he should have walked with me, was now trodden with him carrying Chloe. I followed behind alone, carrying my dress. Mrs. Miller smiled at me. “Claire, Aunt Eleanor knows you’re generous. Only with generosity can you be a good Mrs. Miller.” I smiled back at her. “Aunt Eleanor is right. Chloe is Mike’s good friend; she’s hurt, so it’s only proper.” Walking to the hotel entrance, the staff whispered behind their hands. “First time seeing a groom carrying someone else, with the bride trailing behind.” “Didn’t you see what the banner said? The groom and that woman ‘slept together’.” “This bride is such a pushover, walking into her wedding day with such a public betrayal.” Each word was like a needle piercing my heart. My chest tightened, and a surge of anger swelled within me. In the dressing room, the makeup artist wanted to change my look. “No need to bother. I’d like to rest alone for a bit.” Chloe was injured, so the wedding certainly wouldn’t proceed as scheduled. Instead of meticulously changing clothes and waiting on stage like a clown for Mike, I might as well use this opportunity to do something interesting. Chloe gave me a surprise; I should be grateful. Not only her, but Mrs. Miller also said that only with generosity could I be a good Mrs. Miller. So today, I wanted to see how generous she could truly be. I quietly slipped out. The door to Chloe’s dressing room was ajar. I didn’t need to get close to the dressing room to know what the two of them were doing. Marrying Mike was a task for me. My uncle promised me that as long as I helped the Dawson family secure this alliance, I would be admitted into the Dawson Group, and my father’s shares would legitimately be inherited by me. If not for that 25% stake, I wouldn’t even glance at someone like Mike. Since childhood, my father always told me, “Know yourself and your enemy, and you will win a hundred battles.” I had already thoroughly investigated Mike and Chloe’s backgrounds. Chloe, using the excuse of growing up with Mike, had overtly and covertly driven away five of Mike’s girlfriends. Mike enjoyed this ambiguous, unclear relationship with Chloe. After the news of my arranged marriage to him spread, Chloe hinted more than once that they were involved. Whether it was couple’s items flaunted on social media or accidental “bedside” photos, none of it angered me. But this time, she chose to humiliate me at the wedding, to shame the Dawson family. Well, I would let her know she had messed with the wrong person. 3. “So what if you’re the bride? Mike still protects me, doesn’t he?” I didn’t even need to open the app; I knew Chloe was desperately trying to provoke me. From the moment Mike and I started dating, her provocations were endless. At our engagement party, all the decorations in the hall were arranged according to her preferences. Simply because a few fewer daffodils were placed, she harshly reprimanded the florist in front of all the guests. When choosing a wedding dress, she tried on the limited-edition gown imported from Paris before me. “Mike, does this look good? I like this one.” The bridal consultant subtly reminded her that the dress was mine. Her face instantly darkened. “Claire, Chloe is a staunch single person; she doesn’t plan to get married in her life. It’s just a dress. If she likes it, why don’t you let her have it?” Before I decided to marry Mike, I never fantasized about having love with him. Therefore, I retreated again and again. It was just a wedding dress; I was willing to let her have it. But Chloe was still not satisfied. She deliberately chose the day Mike and I were taking our wedding photos. She went hiking alone on a wild trail in the wilderness. Before leaving, she posted a social media update visible only to Mike and me. The short essay was filled with talk of letting go, but the subtext hinted for Mike to go find her. At that moment, Mike, who was taking wedding photos with me, looked as if he had lost his soul. He took off his jacket, grabbed his car keys, and left without a word. He ignored me shouting after him. “Claire, I’m afraid something happened to Chloe. You can take solo wedding photos first. The rest can be composited later.” The photographer’s eyes widened at his unreasonable request. I understood Chloe’s nature; she was declaring war on me in this way. As the wedding date approached, whenever Mike squeezed in time for wedding photos, Chloe would always have various “accidents.” “Mike, I agree to the wedding photo composite, but you have to guarantee Chloe won’t cause trouble at the wedding.” When he heard my request, Mike looked at me dismissively. “Claire, I know what’s important. The wedding is a big day for you and me, for the Miller and Dawson families. Chloe will definitely behave.” But now, the wedding hadn’t even officially begun. Chloe was using a dozen banners to publicly shame me and the Dawson family. “Do you really think you’ve won? If he truly cared about you, why isn’t he marrying her?” “Chloe, no matter what stunts you pull, the only person Mike will marry is me. You will never sit in the position of Mrs. Miller.” Before, no matter what messages Chloe sent, I never replied to her. But today, I unleashed all the words I had kept bottled up. “Just you wait, I’ll let you know that Mike only loves me.” After reading Chloe’s utterly unaggressive reply, a pop-up on my phone showed that the camera had started operating. As the wedding time drew closer, I called the makeup artist in. While resting my eyes, my heart was filled with anticipation. I wondered what reaction Mike and the guests, who were waiting to see me humiliated, would have to what was about to unfold. 4. Sure enough, just as I expected. I stood alone on the stage in my wedding dress. No matter how the host called for the groom to enter, there was no sign of Mike. The groomsmen watched me like it was a show. Their expressions seemed to say: I dared to cross Chloe, so I deserved the lesson Mike was giving me. “Where is Mike? Send someone to look for him.” The guests below stirred, and Mrs. Miller told the groomsmen to scatter and search. “Claire, don’t worry, Mike will be here soon.” Mrs. Miller smiled as she comforted me. “Don’t worry, today is your wedding, he wouldn’t dare to mess around.” I pushed away Mrs. Miller’s hand, which was lightly patting mine. I said calmly, “No rush, Aunt Eleanor, I know where he is.” “If you don’t believe me, please look at the big screen.” The big screen lit up, showing a dimly lit room. Two figures were intertwined. “It sounds like someone is looking for you outside. The wedding seems to be starting.” The moment Chloe’s voice came out, the noisy guests stopped their movements. “Ignore them. If she dares to defy me in front of so many people, she deserves to be left out in the cold.” Mike’s displeasure towards me could be heard even through the screen. Mrs. Miller’s face immediately darkened. She kept dialing Mike’s number. “It’s Aunt Eleanor. Should I answer?” Chloe looked playfully at Mike, who was lying on the bed. Her white shoulder was half-exposed, covered in red marks. “Don’t answer. My mom has disliked Claire for a long time. This is a good opportunity to put her in her place.” Mrs. Miller’s face instantly changed from red to white. “Claire, don’t listen to his nonsense. Aunt Eleanor never meant that.” “Go find him quickly! Where is that beast?” Mrs. Miller was visibly furious. “Don’t worry about them. You’re being wronged today. If she dares to reject your good intentions, I’ll teach her a good lesson.” “But what if she finds out?” Chloe’s voice carried a hint of expectation. “What if she finds out? Although she’s a Dawson, the Dawson family doesn’t value her. Otherwise, if it were such a mess now, why wouldn’t anyone from the Dawson family stand up for her?” “Chloe, don’t be afraid. From now on, she’ll be Mrs. Miller, but you’re the only one I love.” Mike’s words seemed to reassure Chloe. She threw the incessantly ringing phone into a nearby humidifier. “Turn it off, quickly turn it off.” “Go find him! Make sure to control that little vixen separately.” Mrs. Miller furiously jumped onto the stage and pulled out the projector’s plug. More and more people went to look for Mike. “Mrs. Miller, young Mr. Hayes prepared a separate dressing room for Ms. Lane.” The staff I had arranged beforehand quickly stepped forward. Mrs. Miller, leading a group of people, marched towards the dressing room. Soon, the dressing room door was kicked open. Mrs. Miller stormed in furiously. Clearly, someone had tipped them off. Mike was unscrewing a bottle of pain relief oil, rubbing Chloe’s ankle, which wasn’t even swollen. “Mom, why are you here? Chloe sprained her ankle; I just went to get medicine for her.” A sharp slap rang out, and Chloe clutched her cheek in disbelief. “Aunt Eleanor, why did you hit me?” A layer of tears welled up in Chloe’s eyes. Mike protectively shielded her as if she were a treasure. “Mom, why did you hit Chloe? Claire pushed her and made her sprain her ankle, which is why I was delayed.” “You can only blame Claire.” Mrs. Miller fiercely grabbed Chloe’s hair and dragged her out. Mike tried hard to stop her. But the video that had just played had made Mrs. Miller lose face. How could she give up so easily? A sharp-eyed groomsman approached Mike and whispered in his ear. “Mike, there was a video just now. The content of the video was…” “What video? Where is it?” He became visibly flustered. The groomsman hesitantly played the recorded content. When he heard his own voice, he froze. Soon, he snatched the phone and slammed it heavily onto the ground. “Fake, this is Claire’s revenge. If you don’t believe me, look, there’s no bed in the dressing room at all.”

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My fiancée hired a male assistant. He called himself a good luck charm. When I closed my first million-dollar deal, he said it was because he’d prayed for it. When I pulled an all-nighter to win a bid, leading my team to success, he claimed it was due to his lucky draw. When I selected a piece of land, developed it into a resort, and reaped a billion-dollar profit, he insisted it was because I wore his good luck charm. After he’d snatched credit for all my achievements, HR approached me at year-end: “All your performance metrics are attributed to Dylan Finch. Your annual bonus has been cancelled this year.” “All your performance rewards will also go to Dylan!” I immediately gave up, slacking off, playing games all day at work. The ‘good luck charm’ panicked. Without me, where would an inexperienced intern like him get credit to steal? So, at the year-end review meeting, he dramatically smashed my computer, putting on airs: “If you continue to be a deadbeat and slack off, I’ll have the boss fire you!” My fiancée chimed in from the side: “The company’s success is all thanks to him. How dare you not put in effort when you don’t even have his luck?” “If it weren’t for the good fortune he brought, the company might have gone under.” I laughed, exasperated, and said to my CEO-dad in my game: “Hear that? He thinks he can land projects just by being lucky!” “In that case, let’s see if he can secure a hundred-million-dollar order by year-end, purely with his luck!” … The company held its year-end meeting. All employees, including management, were present, except for me. I was at my desk, deep in a thrilling team battle. A colleague passed by, asking me to join them: “Stop playing games, the VP called for a meeting. We’ll be publicly criticized if we’re late.” “Not going,” I flatly refused. “Anyway, the company has Dylan Finch, the good luck charm. What’s the point of being ambitious and working hard?” My colleague choked. He knew that when I’d secured that multi-million dollar order, Dylan had snatched the credit with a single sentence: “It’s all thanks to my prayers that you could sign such a big deal.” This was the third time Dylan had stolen my credit, and I had completely given up, playing games on the company’s dime every day. “You’re not going to the meeting, just sitting here playing games?” My fiancée, Lindsay Hayes, stalked over in her heels, confronting me. “You don’t even attend meetings, just slack off all day. Do you have any ambition at all?” “Why can’t you learn from Dylan? Even if he’s a good luck charm, he arrived early and is diligently participating in the company’s planning!” I was fiercely cornering a boss in my game, not even looking up. “Sorry, I have no ambition. He does, so let him handle it.” “Besides, isn’t this meeting to praise him? Why should I go?” Lindsay frowned. “He closed a million-dollar deal, aren’t you going to congratulate a colleague?” Her words were deeply sarcastic. My blade moved faster as I took down the boss. “You know best how many days I slaved away, how many times I entertained clients, drinking until my stomach was bleeding, just to get that deal. Your intern, Dylan Finch, casually stole all my efforts with one sentence.” “And you want me to congratulate him? Congratulate a useless freeloader?” This angered Lindsay. She slammed my laptop shut and dragged me to the conference room. “You’re going today whether you like it or not!” As I entered the conference room, I heard the Vice President on stage effusively praising Dylan for bringing good fortune to the company. “One wave is truly stronger than the last! Even interns these days can close million-dollar deals! Everyone in the company should learn from Dylan; he’s our company’s lucky star!” Seeing me enter, the VP shot me a contemptuous glance. “Unlike some people, who just play games and slack off all day! They spent half a month on one deal and still couldn’t close it. An intern’s few words are more effective!” My colleagues whispered amongst themselves, their snickers occasionally reaching my ears: “That intern closed a deal with just a few words. After a year’s work, he’s less useful than Dylan’s single sentence. What a loser…” “I heard Manager Hayes is Aaron Miller’s fiancée, yet she promotes Dylan. Shows how useless Aaron is, doesn’t it?” I ignored them, sitting directly in a corner. My dad happened to call me to help him rank up in our game, so I immediately joined the team. Lost in the game, someone tapped my shoulder. I looked up to find everyone in the meeting room staring at me. That’s when I heard Dylan on stage accusing me: “A deadbeat like Aaron Miller, who contributes nothing, will only hold this company back!” “Your projects only succeeded because of my subtle guidance, otherwise you’d never achieve such high performance, would you?” “I advise you to turn off your game, or today, on behalf of the company, I will take serious action against you!” I took off my headphones, looking utterly indifferent. “What, you, an intern, think you can fire me?” “Do you even have that authority?” Everyone gasped. They hadn’t expected me to confront Dylan directly. Everyone knew Lindsay Hayes was backing him. I looked at Lindsay; her eyes, returning my gaze, were incredibly cold. “What if I gave him that authority?” “The company’s achievements are all thanks to Dylan. How dare you not work hard without his good luck?” “If it weren’t for him, the company might have already gone under.” My eyes immediately darkened. I scoffed at my dad in the game’s voice chat: “Hear that? Turns out all the company’s deals are signed thanks to an intern’s good luck.” Lindsay openly tearing into me for Dylan’s sake was something no one had expected. Dylan grew even more arrogant, looking at me provocatively. I shrugged, standing up to leave. “Fine, then process my resignation today.” My indifference clearly surprised Lindsay; Dylan’s face, in particular, turned sour. His achievements were stolen. Without me, he had no one to guarantee his position in the company. “Wait! Lindsay, firing him is too extreme.” Then Dylan went to my workstation, dragged my computer into the meeting room. “How about we teach him a lesson, make him remember!” In front of everyone, he directly threw my computer from a height, smashing it to pieces on the floor. “I warn you, no more slacking off or playing games!” The loud crash instantly silenced the meeting room. My computer was a mangled mess of scrap metal. Everyone’s faces were a picture of surprise and excitement as they stood up to watch the show. “His computer’s smashed! Aaron Miller’s life is going to be tough now!” “People are desperate to get into our company; Aaron Miller doesn’t even care about being fired. Is he playing hard to get, trying to force Manager Hayes to keep him?” “Still a low-level employee after a year, so pathetic. Manager Hayes won’t fall for that…” Computer fragments flew to my feet. This was my top-of-the-line custom-built computer, which I’d had made abroad for ten million. I stared at Dylan, who was dressed in cheap brands, and calmly said, “Smash my computer? Can you afford to pay for it?” Dylan sneered, “You’re just a regular employee, how expensive could your computer be? Go to the warehouse and get a spare one.” I turned to Lindsay. “Are you just going to let an intern be this arrogant? Not only stealing my deals but also casually smashing my computer?” Lindsay walked directly to Dylan’s side, looking down at me haughtily. “He didn’t make me fire you; letting you stay in the company to earn a living is already being more than fair.” “Dylan smashing your computer is for your own good. He wants you to be ambitious.” I shook my head, a cold smirk on my face. There was no reply from my game’s voice chat; my hot-tempered dad and grandpa, fiercely protective, were probably already chartering a private jet back. I had no desire to argue further. I crouched down to pick up the computer’s motherboard, but Dylan raised his foot and stepped directly on it. “Still want to pick it up and keep playing?” he said, grinding his foot back and forth on the motherboard. “Lindsay, you’re cutting him some slack, and he still doesn’t repent?” “You’re slacking off publicly, ruining the company’s hardworking atmosphere. You deserve only the oldest spare computer!” “Also…” He pulled out a stack of project reports. “This data you prepared earlier has such huge flaws! If I hadn’t discovered them in time, you would have caused the company massive losses!” At this, the surroundings gasped. “My god, Dylan really is our company’s good luck charm; he can even find flaws!” “Look at Aaron Miller, so thick-skinned. Without Dylan’s blessing, his project would have tanked. Now he’s even contradicting him and pulling faces!” “He’s doing it on purpose, trying to win back Manager Hayes’s heart. I wonder if he has the ability to.” I picked up the data, realizing it was a report Dylan himself had done recently, but he’d changed the name on it to mine. “This isn’t my work,” I shrugged, tossing the report onto the floor. “Even though I play games all day, my performance targets are always met. I wouldn’t make such a stupid mistake.” “Only an intern, I guess, would make such a basic error, wouldn’t they?” I looked at Dylan mockingly; his face fluctuated between green and pale. He pointed at me, angrily cursing, “Aaron Miller, you play games all day at work, how can you not make basic mistakes? Your name is on this, just admit it!” “Don’t make me bring out the evidence and embarrass you completely!” I stared at his guilty face, finding it utterly ridiculous. An intern who knew nothing back then was now a domineering ‘good luck charm’ in the company. “Evidence, huh?” I directly called a professional. “Please come over now, I need a handwriting analysis and a check of the surveillance footage.” “You want to conduct a private investigation in our company? Do you have the authority for that?” Lindsay frowned. “Don’t think we’ll believe your investigation results just because you hire some shady people from outside.” I ignored her, sat down, and continued playing my game. The Vice President’s face grew darker. “Aaron Miller, what do you mean? Wrong is wrong. Are you trying to cause a scene in the company? Security, prevent anyone unauthorized from entering the company!” “No need to trouble security, we’ve come up ourselves.” Everyone looked in the direction of the voice, and a collective gasp filled the room. Two people, seen on the news yesterday, stood at the conference room door—the Chief of the Capital City Criminal Investigation Bureau and the CEO of RonaTech Industries. The VP’s face turned white with fright at the sight of these two important figures. He quickly bent over, smiling obsequiously. “What brings you two distinguished gentlemen here? Is there something urgent?” The Chief and the CEO didn’t even glance at the VP, walking directly towards me. “Aaron, where’s the evidence?” “If anyone dares to falsely accuse you, we will definitely help clear your name!” I raised my chin, pointing to the documents on the floor. Dylan, trembling, picked up the documents in front of the two powerful figures, handing them over for immediate inspection. Lindsay, astonished that professionals were investigating for me, stared at me. “Who exactly are you? How did you manage to get them here?” I continued playing my game. “That’s none of your business, as long as someone can prove my innocence!” Dylan glared at me, his face filled with guilt, but he didn’t dare to react on the spot. He was Lindsay Hayes’s junior from university. Fresh out of graduation, Lindsay had arranged for him to join the company as her personal assistant. Dylan’s performance wasn’t great, but he always had a knack for flattery in his free time. For example, “You’re about to get a promotion!” or “You’re definitely going to succeed with this client collaboration.” Occasionally, he’d hit the mark by sheer coincidence, and Lindsay would promote him in various ways. Gradually, everyone in the company came to believe Dylan was a good luck charm, and he quickly became a company celebrity. Later, he publicly claimed my hard-earned achievements were due to his lucky aura. Lindsay knew I’d pulled all-nighters working on proposals, yet she still looked at Dylan with adoration: “I knew it was your good fortune that helped him secure the deal.” Seeing Dylan take away the bonus that should have been mine, becoming the top performer, all my efforts seemed like a joke. And now, he was publicly slandering me? Did he really think I was a pushover to be manipulated? The inspection concluded. The Chief held the report, looking at Dylan with a grim expression. “The handwriting on the error spots in this report matches yours. After checking the surveillance, I also found that you were the only one entering and leaving the office.” “The CEO also investigated the data source, and you were the only one involved from start to finish. Therefore, this erroneous data was caused solely by you!” At this, the conference hall fell silent for a moment, then erupted in heated discussion. “I can’t believe it was slander… My god, Aaron Miller is actually innocent.” “The ‘good luck charm’ is really going too far. You can’t steal someone else’s credit and then frame them, can you?” Dylan’s face turned completely white. He stammered, “That… that must have been a mistake on my part.” “Can a simple ‘mistake’ fix everything?” I leaned back in my chair, watching him leisurely. “When you make a mistake, don’t you need to apologize?” The Chief and the CEO stood behind me, staring at Dylan, putting immense pressure on him. He reluctantly lowered his head. “I… I’m sorry…” I stood up, shaking hands with the Chief and the CEO in thanks. After they left, I pulled out a bill. “Since the slander has been cleared up, let’s talk about my computer’s compensation.” Dylan reverted to his arrogant self, crossing his arms and scoffing, “I’d like to hear how much a broken computer is worth.” I held up one finger: “Ten…” “Tsk, just ten thousand?” He pulled out his phone. “I’ll scan it to you now.” I shook my head. “Ten million.”

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From the moment I could remember, I knew my mother hated me. When I was three, she gave me sleeping pills. At five, she fed me bug killer. But I was a stubborn kid, hard to get rid of. By the age of seven, I’d somehow learned to fight back. She’d starve me, and I’d flip the dinner table, making sure no one ate. She’d beat me with a stick until I was rolling on the floor, and I’d punch her precious youngest son until he was black and blue. I battled her with a hard head until I was twelve. Then my youngest sister was born. I was clumsy, fumbling with the tiny bundle as I changed her wet diaper. That’s when my mother grabbed me, slamming me against the wall. Her eyes were a mix of disgust and fear. “What are you trying to do to my daughter?” she snarled. “You’re just like your rapist father! Why don’t you just die with him?” In that moment, I finally understood why she hated me. I clutched my bleeding head, not fighting back for the first time. And for the first time, I genuinely believed she was right. My existence was a mistake. I should die. … By the time I limped to my grandma’s house, night had fallen. Grandma didn’t bat an eye at my blood-soaked clothes. She calmly pulled out her small first-aid kit, cleaned my wounds, and then set a bowl of simple noodle soup in front of me. Usually, I’d devour the noodles, grumbling about how I’d get even tomorrow. This time, I just stared at the clear broth, quietly asking, “Grandma, I’m not my dad’s kid, am I?” Grandma said nothing, but the sudden aversion in her eyes spoke volumes. She abruptly stood, repeatedly wiping the table where the first-aid kit had sat with an old rag. I understood then – my blood was tainted. I was the rapist’s son. No wonder Mom hated me. A wave of nausea unlike anything I’d ever felt before washed over me. I stumbled out the door, clutching the courtyard wall, dry heaving. The night wind cut through me, making the gashes on my face sting. Before, when Mom hit me, I saw those wounds as debts she owed, debts I’d collect someday. Now, I felt too ashamed to even look at her. I didn’t go back to Grandma’s, and she didn’t come looking for me. I limped aimlessly through the streets, lost and unsure where to go. Then I saw a family celebrating a birthday outside a restaurant. The woman in the center, surrounded by her loved ones, had a radiant smile that made me shrink back. Last year, on Mom’s birthday, she’d worn a similar happy smile—until she saw me. The moment I walked in, her joy twisted into pure disgust. I remembered a school essay assignment called “My Mother.” I’d written about Mom as an absolute monster. My English teacher had pulled me into her office, pointing at my paper, lecturing me for an entire class period. I hadn’t really heard what she said, but one line stuck with me: “No mother in this world could ever hate her own child.” I’d believed her. I used the money I’d saved from selling scrap metal to buy Mom a birthday cake. All I wanted was for her to hug me, just once, like she hugged my brother. But her icy stare pierced me, making me feel like a clown with the cake in my hands. A flash of rage consumed me. When no one was looking, I caught a few frogs from the yard and hid them inside the cake. I still remember Mom’s scream when the frogs jumped out. Back then, a twisted satisfaction had filled me; she didn’t deserve to be a mother. She deserved it. But now, I understood. I was the one who didn’t deserve it. My very existence was a wound to her. Looking at the mother’s smile in the restaurant, I made a decision. This year, for Mom’s birthday, I’d give her a gift she’d truly love. A gift that would finally set her free. I decided to die. The moment the thought of dying surfaced, my steps became unnervingly light. I even started to plan how to die in a way that wouldn’t inconvenience anyone, how to disappear without a trace. But my plan was cut short; the patrolling police caught me and brought me home. Mom opened the door. It closed behind me, and I kept my head down, not daring to meet her eyes, only hearing her cold voice. “Why didn’t you just die out there?” My usual retort died in my throat, swallowed whole. Yet, driven by some twisted impulse, I hesitated, then asked her, my voice barely a whisper, “If… if I really… died, what would you do?” Would you be even a little sad? “Hmph. If you’ve got the guts, go die sooner. I’d be overjoyed.” She walked into my siblings’ room without looking back, closing the door. I stood in the living room. After a long while, I clumsily wiped my face and forced a laugh. I knew it. The birthday gift I’d chosen, Mom would definitely love it. Cole, the orphan kid I usually collected junk with, lived by his wits. He was street smart, always finding ways to make a buck. So, after school, I treated him to an ice cream. Crouching by the curb, I lowered my voice and asked him how to make someone disappear without a trace. Cole shot me a weird look, then shoved his half-eaten ice cream into my hand. “Stay away from me. I don’t do anything illegal.” I held up both ice creams, confused. “What are you talking about? Just tell me how someone could die by accident. You know… preferably not too painfully. That person might be a bit sensitive to pain.” Cole gasped and started to get up to run. Forgetting the ice cream, I grabbed him, holding him tight like a pig tied for slaughter. “I don’t care! You ate my stuff, so you’re with me! You have to help me!” Unable to break free, Cole just flopped onto the ground, looking miserable. “No, man, my good man, you’ve got parents, why are you so determined to throw your life away? Yeah, you get hit a lot, but they don’t starve you. Look at your arms, you’re bigger than me!” A lump formed in my throat, stuck between up and down, and I choked. I wanted to tell him that it was because they were neither wholly good nor completely bad that I felt this agonizing pain. Especially after knowing my birth story, even that profound, wronged hatred had no solid ground to stand on. I couldn’t live anymore. But saying that would only cause Mom trouble, so I rasped back at Cole, “None of your business! Just tell me if you’ll help or not!” Cole wailed, “Dude! You want to kill your mom! How can I help with that?!” I froze, looking down at Cole on the ground in disbelief. When did I say I wanted to kill Mom? But before I could argue, a loud, familiar wail pierced the air from nearby. “Waaah! The big bad guy wants to kill Mommy!” My brain short-circuited. I slowly turned my head towards the sound. It was my idiot little brother. Crying and screaming, he was running so fast he’d lost a shoe and didn’t even care. That night, the sound of slaps echoed through the house for most of the evening. Mom swung the broom at me, hitting me head-on, her eyes blazing with the same fierce hatred she reserved for an enemy. But I saw it — tears streamed from her eyes. I’d seen those tears a few times before, but then I’d dismissed them as crocodile tears, stiffening my neck and butting my head into her stomach, promising her I’d get her back when I was older, that I’d kill her. Now, I just curled up on the cold tile floor, unmoving. Finally, she tired herself out. The broom clattered to the floor. But she didn’t look at me, just stumbled back to her room. After a long silence, I slowly pushed myself up, only to hear the muffled, broken sobs from her room, choked back as if she was trying to stifle them. The sound was like a knife, twisting repeatedly in my chest. My face burned, and the body I’d just managed to prop up crashed back to the floor. I raised a hand to cover my eyes; my hand came away wet. Not with tears, but with a mixture of blood and dirt. Just like me. Filthy. “Your mother, she was crying on the floor just like that when she was nineteen.” I snapped my head up. Grandma had appeared in the doorway at some point, her cloudy eyes seeming to fix on me, yet also on someone, some moment in time. “That night, her clothes were torn, and her body… was bruised all over.” “She didn’t cry out loud, just bit her lip until it bled.” My breathing hitched. “She tried to get rid of you later, but her body wouldn’t let her.” “After you were born, I threw you away, but by morning, the police brought you back to the door.” “They said abandoning you was a crime, that she’d go to jail, and they’d follow up.” My life was so absurd it was laughable. No one welcomed my arrival, yet I clung stubbornly to life for twelve years. Grandma, as always, tended to my wounds. Her face was old, her voice rambling. “Don’t blame her. Her heart’s in pain. She never got over it.” I lowered my head and smiled. “Grandma, I don’t blame her anymore.” I no longer hated Mom, but Mom still hated me enough to want me dead. She didn’t know I was awake when she pressed the pillow over my face. I could even feel the pillow trembling with her shaking hands. I didn’t struggle. I just closed my eyes and waited. Just as my lungs began to burn, a powerful force yanked Mom off me. Grandma’s voice was hoarse and trembling. “Are you insane! You’ll throw away another lifetime for him? It’s not worth it! Once was enough…” Mom crumpled into Grandma’s arms, letting out a broken whimper. “Mom! Mom! I can’t take it anymore! Is he as evil as his father?” Grandma held Mom tightly, but her eyes flickered towards me. For a second, I thought she saw my half-open eyes. But she just murmured calmly, “Go back to sleep.” Mom’s whimpers faded into the distance. I lay there, gasping for air, then pulled the covers over my face and turned over. I don’t know how long passed, but as dawn approached, Grandma came in carrying a large enamel mug. Inside was steaming hot chicken soup. Drinking chicken soup first thing in the morning was obviously odd. But Grandma simply placed the mug on my bedside table, her voice as calm as the lines etched on her face. “Drink it.” I understood. I wanted to say how impatient they were; I could have quietly died in a few days. Now, like this, they’d be in so much trouble after I was gone. But I said nothing. I reached for the heavy mug, its sides burning hot. I tilted my head back and gulped down the entire bowl of chicken soup. The strangely bitter taste spread from my tongue to my very core. The mug was empty. I placed it back on the nightstand, then lay back down, pulling the covers over myself, quietly awaiting the end. Grandma picked up the empty mug, stood there looking at me for a few seconds, then left without a word. The poison worked fast. First, a violent stomach ache, like countless hands tearing at my insides, then an overwhelming coldness, making me shiver uncontrollably, my teeth chattering. My vision blurred, and sounds grew distant. I heard Grandma’s footsteps in and out of the room, heard her making a phone call. Later, there was the piercing wail of an ambulance, a jumble of voices, blinding lights. Under the harsh hospital lights, the stomach pump tube was roughly forced down my throat. I vomited until I thought I’d tear apart, tears and snot streaming down my face. A young doctor looked at me, then at Grandma, whose face was ashen, his brow furrowed. “What happened? This soup…” He lowered his voice, suspicion lacing his words. With my last ounce of strength, I clutched the doctor’s white coat sleeve, my voice so hoarse it was almost inaudible. “It was… I took the medicine myself…” The doctor froze, his eyes complex as he looked at me. I released my grip, slumping back onto the hospital bed, staring at the ceiling. Being tough to kill, I guess, was also a curse. Even dying had become a luxury. Grandma stood by the bed, her back hunched, her white hair fluttering against her thin, wrinkled face. Before I closed my eyes, I thought I saw a single, cloudy tear fall from her dry eye, hitting the cold floor with a silent splat.

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