Author: Momo Chan

To avoid trouble, I always made up that I had a husband. While shopping with a coworker, I saw a really expensive dress. The salesclerk pushed hard to sell it, so I said: “Never mind, my husband won’t agree. Even if I buy it, I’ll just have to return it.” Unexpectedly, the next day, a package arrived at the company. When I opened it, it was actually that dress! My coworker’s eyes lit up, and she picked up the card inside and read: “To my dear wife: If you like it, you should have it. You deserve all the beautiful things. “Signed — your loving husband!” I was completely dumbfounded. My husband was something I made up. I’d never even been in a relationship, so where did a husband come from? I thought my coworker Lina was just reading nonsense, so I hurriedly grabbed the card. But I saw that these two lines were indeed written on it. “Laura, you usually say your husband won’t let you do this or that. “Isn’t he quite generous? Five thousand dollars, bought without blinking!” A few other coworkers also gathered around. “So your husband is this rich, who would’ve thought, Laura!” I forced a smile, unable to say a word. It had been three months since I joined the company, and my married persona was very stable. Anything I didn’t want to do, I pushed off by saying, “My husband won’t let me.” It worked like a charm. But in reality, I was single and had never even held a guy’s hand! Where did a husband pop up from? I sneaked a peek; the dress was even my exact size. Who sent it? I narcissistically wondered if someone had a crush on me. But I only saw this dress when I was shopping with Lina, so she was the only one who knew about it. I quietly observed Lina’s expression. Completely normal. All day, I was restless. After work, I called the store’s customer service. This wasn’t a small transaction, so the store should have the buyer’s information. But the rep was silent for a few seconds and said, “I’m sorry, ma’am, this order was placed anonymously. The customer opted for privacy protection, so we can’t see the information.” Anonymous? So mysterious. I stared at the dress for a long time, then shoved it into the deepest part of my closet. The next day at work, Lina asked, “Laura, why aren’t you wearing that dress? I wanted to feast my eyes and see what a five-thousand-dollar dress looks like on!” I brushed it off: “Wearing something that expensive to work, isn’t that a waste?” I didn’t dare to wear something from an unknown source. Lina didn’t ask further. I focused on my work, but before long, the receptionist called me. “Laura, you have a delivery!” My whole body shuddered, and I had a bad premonition. Sure enough, when I brought the package over and opened it, inside was a full set of lipsticks. The card inside was signed again: Your loving husband. Lina exclaimed, “Aren’t these the newly released ones? We talked about them last week, and you said you liked several shades!” Yes, and I had even casually said at the time: “I really want to buy the whole set, but my husband definitely won’t let me. He always says I have enough lipstick.” Lina shook her head. “Won’t let you buy? Now he just bought the whole set for you! Laura, what kind of angel husband do you have!” Angel, definitely an angel. So angelic that I don’t even know who he is! What the hell is going on? Could someone really have a crush on me? Then just confess to my face! What’s the point of secretly sending gifts and calling himself my husband! My mind was a mess, and I shoved the lipsticks into my drawer. Lina looked at me strangely: “What’s wrong with you? Why aren’t you happy at all about receiving a gift? Did you fight with your husband?” I smiled awkwardly. Lina took it as my confirmation: “No wonder he’s sending you gifts these past couple of days. Geez, with such a generous husband, why would you fight with him?” I didn’t speak. I silently memorized the tracking number on the delivery box, then found the online store and contacted customer service. The reply I got was: [This order was placed anonymously, so we can’t provide the information.] Can online shopping even be anonymous? I was pondering this question. Suddenly, the receptionist called me again. “Laura, come get your flowers!”

Flowers? What flowers? I blankly stood up and walked over. The delivery guy was holding a huge bouquet. “Are you Ms. Laura? These are the flowers your husband sent you.” I froze on the spot. By the time I reacted, the delivery guy was already walking away. I hurriedly chased after him and called out to stop him. “Excuse me, who placed the order for the flowers?” The delivery guy gave me a weird look: “Your husband.” I shook my head: “I mean, can I see the buyer’s account?” The delivery guy didn’t understand but did it anyway, taking out his phone to show me the chat history for his order. As expected, the other party’s account page was completely blank. “This bouquet is two thousand bucks. Minus the delivery fee, your husband even gave me an extra thousand as a tip.” The delivery guy was smiling so wide his eyes disappeared: “Miss Laura, your husband is really good to you, so generous.” I stiffly handed the phone back to him and forced a stiff smile. Back at the company, my coworkers all gathered around. “Such a big bouquet, it must’ve cost thousands, right?” “That’s nothing. Laura’s husband bought a five-thousand-dollar dress without blinking!” “Hey, there’s a card on the flowers, what does it say?” Only then did I see that card. [Honey, don’t be mad anymore.] Seeing this line clearly, my hand trembled, and I almost threw the flowers. A few coworkers teased: “Laura, with such a great husband, how could you bear to fight with him?” “I’m crying from envy, I want a husband this good too!” “His apology is so sincere, just forgive him.” They were all talking at once, and I couldn’t take in a single word. Instead, I glanced at Lina. The dress, the lipstick—only Lina knew I had said those things. Even the moment I just mentioned in front of her that I fought with my “husband,” a bouquet was immediately delivered, telling me not to be mad. Could she have found out I didn’t actually have a husband and was playing a prank? But these things weren’t cheap. It didn’t seem like she’d spend that much money. I couldn’t figure it out; I didn’t have a clue. My mind was in chaos, so after work, I went to see my grandpa. Grandpa cooked a big table of food for me, and I affectionately linked my arm with his, acting spoiled. Suddenly, I noticed he wasn’t wearing his hearing aid. “Grandpa, where’s your hearing aid?” Grandpa was very hard of hearing, and it took him a while to understand what I said. “That thing? I accidentally dropped it in the river while fishing yesterday! “It’s no big deal, no big deal!” How could it be no big deal? I immediately searched online for hearing aids, researching which one was the best. “Just buy a cheap one, don’t waste money,” Grandpa said beside me. I didn’t go back that night and just stayed over. Early the next morning, a knock on the door woke me up. I walked out of the room bleary-eyed and saw Grandpa opening the door. Outside was a delivery guy. “Hello, please sign for this.” Grandpa glanced at the package and froze. “Where did you buy this? It arrived so fast!” I instantly woke up and hurried over. Looking closely, what the delivery guy was holding was exactly a hearing aid. But I hadn’t even placed the order yet! Instantly, goosebumps broke out all over my body.

“Hello, which one of you will sign for it?” The delivery guy said again. Grandpa was about to sign, but I quickly said: “Um, I think I bought the wrong one. Sorry, I need to reject this.” This was for Grandpa. I didn’t dare to just accept it. What if it was dangerous? While rejecting it, I caught a glimpse of a familiar card attached to the box. [Of course, we have to give Grandpa the best. — Laura’s Husband] My hand trembled in fright. After sending the delivery guy away, I took half a day off from the company and took Grandpa to a physical store to buy a hearing aid. Then I exhorted Grandpa repeatedly. “Grandpa, if you receive any packages recently, you must ask me immediately.” Although Grandpa didn’t quite understand, he listened to me well. When I went to work in the afternoon, I was a complete mess. Who exactly was this person, to even know my grandpa’s address? More importantly, only Grandpa and I knew I was planning to buy a hearing aid! I had only searched for hearing aids online the night before. And it was delivered to the door early in the morning? No matter how I thought about it, it was absurd. Could it be… I looked down at my phone. Could someone have installed something on my phone and was monitoring me? Thinking it over and over, this was the only possibility. So as soon as I got off work, I went to buy a new phone, formatted the old one, and sold it secondhand. Spending two large sums of money in one day made my heart ache. But what gave me peace of mind was that I didn’t receive any more gifts for the next several days. I had just breathed a sigh of relief, but that night, I had a strange dream. In the dream, an unfamiliar man said to me with a wronged look: “Honey, you don’t wear the clothes I gave you, you don’t use the lipstick, and you even refused Grandpa’s hearing aid. “Are you sick of me, or do you just not want gifts? “It’s your birthday, so how about I give you money? You can buy whatever you want yourself.” I woke up from the dream in shock, my heart almost leaping out of my chest. Today was indeed my birthday. But what kind of messy dream was that? The alarm went off right then. I patted my head to forget about it and got up for work. Sitting at my desk, I was munching on bread and rushing a proposal when my phone suddenly vibrated. I clicked it open and instantly widened my eyes. Ones, tens, hundreds, thousands, ten thousands… One million! My card had received a deposit of one million! I thought it was someone’s prank, but when I clicked into the account page, there was indeed an extra one million. Remark: [Honey, happy birthday.] What was this situation? “How about I give you money? You can buy whatever you want yourself.” The words from the dream surfaced in my mind. I sat frozen in my seat, feeling my worldview collapse. “Laura? What’s wrong?” Seeing me not even blinking, Lina nudged me. I quickly put the phone face down: “No, nothing.” Oh my god, what the hell is going on?! Where did this one million come from? Don’t tell me I actually have a husband, but I just don’t remember? “By the way, Laura, I saw it marked on your desk calendar that today is your birthday. How are you planning to celebrate?” Lina asked casually beside me. I quietly picked up my phone and took another look at the account balance. I had never used anything that “husband” sent. Were these things real? For example, could this one million be used? I took a deep breath. “Everyone, today is my birthday. I’m treating you all to dinner.” Hearing my words, my coworkers started to cheer. Someone even asked: “Laura, aren’t you spending your birthday with your husband?” I made up an excuse: “He’s on a business trip recently.” Then I sent a restaurant address in the SnapChat group. Lina said in shock: “Laura, you’re treating us to something this expensive?!” I smiled and didn’t speak. But I was still a bit worried. What if this money couldn’t be spent?

As it turned out, my worries were unnecessary. Watching me pay a bill of over fifteen thousand without blinking, my coworkers were dumbfounded. “Laura, what exactly does your husband do? He’s so rich!” “You really hid it well, I really couldn’t tell before.” “Alright, alright, let Laura make a wish first!” Lina ordered a cake and put a birthday hat on me. The candles were lit, and I closed my eyes. Thinking of the bizarre experiences lately, I suddenly had an absurd thought. Could it be that I have superpowers and whatever I want, I get? Then I might as well try something big. Thinking this, I chanted silently in my heart. I want lots and lots of money! Then I opened my eyes and blew out the candles. When I went home at night, after washing up and lying in bed, I saw an unread message. I sat up with a whoosh, clenched my fists, and clicked on that message. I saw that another sum of money had been credited to my card, and the string of numbers was even longer than the one from the morning. My heart pounding, I counted the zeros. It was actually one hundred million! Remark: [I will give you lots and lots of money.] It was too incredible… I got out of bed and walked in circles several times, feeling like I was dreaming. Did I really have the superpower to make wishes come true? But this wasn’t scientific. After calming down, I still felt something was wrong. With such a huge income, would I be targeted by the police? Getting rich overnight, would I be targeted by bad guys? Even though the feeling of having money was great. But I really didn’t dare to spend this money. Thinking it over, I decided to go to the police tomorrow. If the police could trace the source of the money, that would be for the best. If they couldn’t, at least there would be a record. Right, just like that! I took a few deep breaths and comforted myself. Lying back on the bed, I prepared to put down my phone and sleep. Suddenly, my hand slipped, and I opened the photo album. Then, I violently sat up once again. Because in my photo album, a few photos I had never seen had appeared out of nowhere. They were even photos of me and an unfamiliar man together! And this man looked exactly like the face in my dream! I was terrified and frantically turned on the light. It was practically a ghost! I had no impression of these photos at all, and I was sure I didn’t know this man. Unless the photos were AI. But I had just changed to a new phone. Was the new phone being monitored too? No matter what, I absolutely had to go report this to the police. I left the light on all night and didn’t dare to sleep. As soon as it was dawn, I took a cab to the police station. “Hello, has something happened to you?” It was too early, plus my complexion was abnormal. The duty officer became alert and poured me a glass of water. I swallowed. “Officer, photos of a strange man suddenly appeared on my phone, and… I also received a huge sum of money from an unknown source.” The officer frowned and asked, “Money from an unknown source? How much?” “One hundred million… no, one million, plus one hundred million.” “One hundred million?!” The officer jumped in shock and yelled. “Officer Sam, what are you getting so startled about? What one hundred million?” Another police officer asked from a distance. And I froze for a moment. Officer Sam? …I slowly looked up and saw his face. Suddenly, my mind exploded. I knew! I knew what was going on! While feeling excited, I had a severe headache. Then my vision became more and more blurry until I lost consciousness…

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I sponsored my best friend, Chloe Taylor, who came from a really tough background, through college. I even helped her become a teacher at a private school. She’d always been incredibly grateful, saying I was the most important person in her life. Until one day, when I was helping Chloe fix her laptop, I saw the photos inside. Chloe and my fiancé, Ethan Carter, were sitting side-by-side on a ski lift. She was snuggled up on his shoulder during a late-night movie. They were kissing in a sunset on a tropical island. I’d been so swamped with hospital work, constantly postponing our dates. Turns out, she’d gone on all of them for me. There were even their SnapChat messages from today. Ethan had sent: “She’s sleeping at the hospital tonight, so bring a few extra boxes of condoms when you come over, baby.” My hand trembled as I closed the laptop. I grabbed my car keys and sped all the way to our shared apartment, the place we called our wedding home. The moment I pushed open the door, the heavy scent of smoke and something else, something cloying and intimate, hung in the air. The two on the bed didn’t even have time to pull apart. Chloe saw me first. She shrieked, her face going white as a sheet. “Sophie…” Ethan turned, glanced at me, and instinctively shielded her behind him. The clothes and wrappers scattered all over the floor made me freeze in disbelief, forgetting to even breathe. I just stood there, watching Ethan pick up the clothes from the floor, helping Chloe dress, piece by piece. His movements were practiced and gentle. He walked her to the door, whispering reassurance. “Someone’s waiting downstairs for you. I’ll handle everything.” I hadn’t done anything yet, but he already feared I’d lash out like a madwoman. The spot in my chest felt hollow, like everything had been ripped out. Only he and I remained in the room, facing each other. I stared at the face I’d known since childhood. We were childhood sweethearts, knew each other for over twenty years. He always said he’d be my shadow, always follow me. But now, that face looked utterly foreign. Ethan pulled out a pack of cigarettes, lit one, took a drag, then looked at me. “Don’t you have anything to say?” He was the one who cheated, so why was I the one standing here, helpless and questioned? “Ethan, how could you two do this to me?” He flicked the ash from his cigarette, his tone flat. “I admit, I messed up. But Sophie, genuinely, what have you given me these past few years?” “You always have something to do, a surgery scheduled. I ask you out to dinner, you’re on rounds. I ask you to a movie, you’re on call. I even had to schedule a fight with you three days in advance.” He said these words with a hint of grievance. As if I were the one in the wrong. As if I were the one who cheated. “Chloe’s different.” His voice softened when he mentioned Chloe. “She cares about my feelings. She remembers what I say. She’ll do the things I want to do with me.” “All those dates you missed, she went on them with me.” “In her heart, I’m the priority.” Every word was a knife, twisting in my heart, leaving me numb with pain. “Ethan! You’ve known me my whole life, I’ve always been this way. I haven’t changed one bit!” He frowned, as if I were being unreasonable. “Yeah, you haven’t changed. But I’m tired of waiting.” I heard my own voice trembling. “So you slept with my best friend?” He was silent for two seconds. “I told you, it’s not her fault.” I took a deep breath and walked over. My palm connected hard with Ethan’s face. “You’re truly heartless, Ethan. How could you do this to me?” He didn’t dodge. The cigarette dropped from his fingers, sparks landing on the duvet. He looked up, a flicker of emotion finally in his eyes. “Enough? If not, do it again.” “Once you’ve vented, don’t go looking for trouble with Chloe.” I opened my mouth to say something, but my phone suddenly rang.

It was the hospital. “Dr. Miller, surgery starts in half an hour.” Ethan let out a soft laugh. It was quiet, but it pierced my ears like a needle. “Go on, Dr. Miller. Your fiancé is sleeping with your best friend, and you still have to go perform surgery.” “You really are the most tolerant woman I’ve ever met.” I gripped my phone, my knuckles white. Fearing tears, I turned and walked away. The surgical lights were blinding. I gritted my teeth, forcing back the tears, my hand steady with the scalpel. No one could tell that just half an hour ago, I’d seen my fiancé and my best friend intimately in my own bed. When the surgery ended, my wrist ached so much I could barely lift it. “Dr. Miller, congratulations are in order!” The anesthesiologist, charting notes, smiled. “I heard you’re taking six months off for your wedding? Everyone in the department is saying that Dr. Carter, who sends you a bouquet every day, is finally marrying our ‘Ice Queen’ Dr. Miller!” My grip on the paper cup tightened instantly. For these six months of leave, I’d used all my accumulated vacation days and scheduled every possible surgery in advance. I’d get so exhausted I’d faint from low blood sugar in the changing room, then pick myself up, chug a glucose drink, and go right back to it. Ethan came to pick me up that day, and when he saw my pale lips, he actually frowned. “Can’t you be a little kinder to yourself?” I smiled. “Are you worried about me, Dr. Carter?” He pulled me into his arms. “Sophie, I just want to marry you, take you home, and put you on a pedestal.” Now, looking back, his arms had already embraced someone else. All my efforts these past months were nothing but a joke. “Mhm.” I managed only one word, afraid that another would trigger my collapse. I walked into the changing room. The moment the door locked, I slid down the door panel to the floor. My shoulders shook violently, tears streaming endlessly through my fingers. I could never shake Ethan off, not since we were kids. He was like my shadow, always tagging along wherever I went. When I was nine, I snapped impatiently, “Can you stop following me?” He looked down and said, “I want to be your shadow. Wherever you go, I go.” At eighteen, he handed me a note: “I don’t want to be a shadow anymore. I want to stand beside you.” We started dating. From eighteen to twenty-eight, a full ten years, he kept every promise. He always picked me up when I worked late, he took time off to care for me when I was sick, he remembered every word I said. Everyone said this was love at its best. I believed them. I pulled out my phone and saw a message from Chloe, sent two hours ago. [Sophie, I know I’ve wronged you, but I truly love him. I’ll do anything you want. Just let us be, okay?] I stared at the words and suddenly found it hilarious. Chloe probably didn’t even remember how she’d gotten out of that miserable, dead-end town she came from. That year, her grandma was critically ill, no money for hospital bills. Chloe knelt in the hospital corridor, sobbing uncontrollably, tears and snot streaming down her face. I was the one who paid for her surgery, arranged everything. I was the one who paid her tuition, encouraged her to get her teaching license. She said I was her biggest benefactor, saying: “Sophie Miller, you’re the one person I’ll never betray in my life.” But now? She was sleeping with my fiancé, and asking me to bless their “love.” But who would bless my ten years of youth? The phone screen blurred. I wiped my tears, ready to stand up. Just then, I heard nurses talking outside the door. “Did you hear? We got a patient in the ER, pregnant, had intense sex, and hemorrhaged.” “The baby’s okay. But her husband looks really powerful. When he came in, he said if we couldn’t save the baby, he’d shut down the hospital.” “No wonder rich people are so arrogant…” “That’s not the point. The point is, the guy looks exactly like Dr. Miller’s fiancé!” “Oh my god! She’s pregnant! Is Dr. Miller, like, the other woman?”

The footsteps faded away. I leaned against the door, my body ice cold. My nails dug deep into my palms, drawing blood. I pushed the door open abruptly and rushed out. Through the glass window of the patient’s room, I saw them. Ethan’s voice was gentle, like he was comforting a child: “Drink slowly, it’s hot.” I pushed open the door. Chloe saw me first. “So-Sophie…” Ethan turned, and the moment he saw me, he instinctively shifted, shielding Chloe behind him. He’d made the same move just a few hours ago in our apartment. His voice turned cold. “I told you not to bother her.” I stared at Chloe’s flat stomach. “Pregnant?” Chloe’s tears fell, and she turned her face away, not daring to look at me. “Yes,” Ethan answered for her. “It’s mine. Three months.” Three months… Three months ago, Ethan went on a business trip, and there was an unexpected earthquake. Messages, calls, all went unanswered. I took leave overnight and drove there. Halfway, an aftershock hit. I was thrown forward, my stomach hitting the steering wheel. The child I hadn’t even had a chance to tell anyone about, was gone in that chaos. When Ethan arrived, he knelt by my bed, holding me, his voice trembling. “I’m so sorry, Sophie… We’ll have another child, I promise we will…” It was the first time I’d seen him cry. I stroked his hair and said, “As long as you’re safe, we’ll have more.” Turns out, he wasn’t on a business trip at all. He was with Chloe. They conceived a child at that time. And I, on my way to find him, lost our child. “Sophie…” Chloe’s voice pulled me back to reality. Her eyes were red-rimmed, and she looked utterly pathetic. “The baby can’t grow up without a dad… Please, let us be…” SMACK. My palm connected hard with her face. The patient room fell silent for a moment, then Chloe covered her face and began to cry. Ethan shot up, grabbing my wrist. “Sophie Miller! That’s enough! Take it out on me!” His eyes were filled with rage. In twenty years, I could count the times he’d gotten angry with me on one hand. Each time it was because I worked too hard, neglecting my own body. But now, it was for the woman he cheated with. “Take it out on you? Ethan, do you even deserve it?” I yanked my hand free and stepped back. Something slipped out of my pocket and clattered to the floor. It was a tactical knife. Ethan and I both froze. Three years ago, on the day he proposed, he slid the ring onto my finger, then put a knife in my hand. “Sophie Miller, you’re the only one for me, forever. If I ever betray you, use this knife and stab me through the heart.” I looked down at the knife, my head buzzing. Then I bent down and picked it up. In that moment, a massive wave of resentment and fury surged from my chest, making my eyes burn. I really wanted to plunge it in. I wanted to press the tip against his heart and ask him why, and how dare he. I wanted him to hurt, to taste the feeling of being stabbed in the back by the one he loved most. Chloe screamed, spreading her arms to shield Ethan. “Sophie! It’s my fault, not his!” I gripped the knife and took a step toward them. Just one step. Ethan’s expression changed. He yanked Chloe behind him, then raised his hand and pushed me. I went flying across the room. My head hit the tiled floor with a sickening thud, and my ears were ringing. When my vision returned, I saw him holding Chloe tightly in his arms. His voice was soft, so gentle. “Did I hit your stomach?” Chloe shook her head, crying. He never once looked at me. The hallway was filled with people. “Oh my god, is that Dr. Miller? She looks so miserable…” “Dr. Miller usually seems so calm, why is she acting like a maniac?” I lay on the floor, my head throbbing. When I was eight, my mother left me with my alcoholic and abusive father. I knelt on the floor, clutching her hand, demanding to know why, crying until I fainted. Since then, I had never broken down for anyone.

I didn’t cry when a surgery failed, nor when I lost my child. It was Ethan who slowly, painstakingly, chipped away at that protective shell. He spent twenty years making me believe I could also be cherished. But it was also him who turned me back into a maniac. I pushed myself up, opened the door, and walked out. It’s okay. I only have myself, and that’s enough. Back at my desk, the whispers around me were constant, but I didn’t listen. On my desk lay the approved wedding leave form and an application for an overseas assignment. Two months ago, my Head of Department had discussed it with me, saying it was a great opportunity, and I’d be promoted to Deputy Head upon my return. When I told Ethan the news, he smiled. “Sophie Miller, I support all your decisions.” He pulled me into his arms, resting his chin on my head. “No matter how far you go, I’ll always wait for you, always follow you.” I couldn’t bear to leave Ethan, couldn’t bear to let down his years of waiting. So, I submitted the wedding leave form. My Head of Department, though reluctant, approved it. “You two have been together for ten years. Choosing marriage over an overseas assignment is a good decision. I hope he doesn’t let you down.” Now, his words had become a cruel prophecy. I tore up the approved form and threw it into the trash can. Slowly, deliberately, I filled out the deployment application form. The moment I finished, I suddenly felt like I could finally breathe. Chloe’s laptop was still there. I clicked on her SnapChat, taking screenshots of everything. Her feed was full of posts: Photos of her and Ethan in the snow, hands intertwined at the movie theater, lavish dinners at couple’s restaurants… Every single post was hidden from me. Mutual friends in the comments section were egging them on. “OMG, you two are so cute! Just get married already!” “Ethan’s such a legend, even when his fiancée’s cold to him, he’s got a girlfriend to comfort him!” “Wonder what Sophie’s reaction will be. She’s always so serious, I’d love to see her cry!” So everyone knew. Only I was just a fool, completely in the dark. Made a fool of, a complete joke to everyone. It was past midnight when I returned to the apartment Ethan and I shared. I pulled out a suitcase and started packing. Once I finished, I grabbed my phone and called a real estate agent, intending to sell our wedding home. “Okay, ma’am, is the property title in your name?” “Yes.” When we moved in, Ethan said he’d only put my name on the title, so I’d always feel secure. I pulled the property title from the drawer and opened it. My hand froze. The owner’s name, at some point, had been changed to Chloe Taylor. Even our wedding home, he’d given to her. “Ms. Miller, are you in a rush to sell?” It took me a long time to respond, my voice hoarse, like sandpaper. “Sorry, I’m not selling anymore.” I hung up, stuffed the last few items of clothing into my suitcase. Zipped it up, stood, and looked around. I’d lived in this apartment for three years. I picked out the sofa, chose the curtains, and Ethan had custom-ordered the painting on the wall from overseas. He said, “When we get married, this wall will be covered with our photos.” The photo of us was still hanging there. He had his arm around me, his eyes crinkled in a smile. It was taken three years ago, on the first day we moved in. He’d been so excited, spinning me around: “Sophie Miller, from today on, we have a home!” I’d lived here for three years. In the end, not a single brick in this place was truly mine. I reached up and took down the photo frame. Opened it, pulled out the photo. On the back was a line of his handwriting: “No matter how long it takes, I’ll wait for you. – Ethan Carter” I threw the photo into the trash can. Dragging my suitcase, I closed the door. A few days later. My overseas assignment was approved: London. Ethan sent a SnapChat message: [Sophie Miller, Chloe’s pregnant, I have to take responsibility. I’m giving the marriage certificate to Chloe, but the wedding can still go on as planned. I won’t go back on my word; I’ll still give you the most magnificent wedding.] I stared at that message for a long time. He wanted me to be his mistress, and Chloe his wife? How laughable. I didn’t reply. I opened my laptop and exported all those photos. One by one, I packaged and printed them. Recipient addresses: The school where Chloe taught, the Carter family residence, Carter Industries. Having done everything, I picked up my suitcase and headed straight for the airport. Before boarding, my phone suddenly vibrated. Messages flooded in like a broken dam.

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To finally buy that panoramic ocean-view condo, I activated a “Get Paid If Rejected” system. My target: Ethan, the brilliant but unapproachable law student, the ultimate campus heartthrob. Every time he rejected me, the system deposited ten thousand dollars into my account. For two whole years, come rain or shine, I confessed my feelings to him 99 times. For the 100th time, I stood under the guys’ dorm building with a megaphone, ready to claim my final ten thousand dollars. “Ethan, I like you! Be my boyfriend!” I’d even opened up SnapChat to message the real estate agent for the beachfront condo. Then, the door to the second-floor balcony opened. Ethan stood there in loose loungewear, looking down at me. “Okay.” His voice wasn’t loud, but it echoed across the entire dorm area. “Grab your ID. We’re going to City Hall to make it official right now.” My hand shook, and the megaphone clattered onto my foot. Wait, what?! Dude, where did my ocean-view condo go?! The early autumn breeze whistled through the sycamores under the dorm building, making the megaphone in my hand feel chilly. I cleared my throat and pressed the switch. “Ethan! I like you! Be my boyfriend!” A massive echo reverberated between the buildings. A crowd of guys had gathered around, some even holding cups of instant soup, watching the show. “Lily’s here again. Is this the 100th time?” “She actually dares to go for the ice prince. She’s really determined to hit that brick wall.” “If Ethan says yes, I’ll eat this instant soup—cup, soup, and all—right here, right now.” I lowered my head, feigning shyness and nervousness. But inside, fireworks were exploding. Reject me. Just tell me to get lost, quickly. Ethan, please, be merciless and just turn me down! I chanted in my head. If he just said “not interested” one more time, the system would transfer my final ten thousand dollars. A whole million dollars! I’d even opened up SnapChat to message the real estate agent for the panoramic ocean-view condo. The down payment was happening today! For two years, come rain or shine, I’d confessed to him in every creative way imaginable. He was handsome, brilliant, top of his class in law school, and famously unapproachable to women. He was basically my personal ATM, tailor-made by fate. For the first 99 times, he was a true professional. The first time, he said, “Excuse me, coming through.” The tenth time, he said, “I’m busy.” The fiftieth time, he said, “Lily, are you that bored?” The ninety-ninth time, he frowned at me and said, “Stop coming here.” I’d heard it as, “Stop coming here to collect money.” No way! I was still short ten thousand! So today, I brought the megaphone. The second-floor balcony door suddenly opened. Ethan, in loose loungewear, his fair skin almost glowed under the streetlights, his jawline sharp enough to cut glass. He leaned on the railing with one hand, looking down at me. The entire scene went silent. I took a deep breath, ready for the sweet sound of “get lost.” But then, he suddenly chuckled. “Okay.” I froze. The guys around me froze too. He straightened up, his voice not loud, but it clearly reached my ears. “Grab your ID. We’re going to City Hall to make it official.” *Clatter.* The megaphone slipped from my hand and hit my foot. The system in my head let out a piercing scream. [Warning! Target has not rejected!] [100th confession mission failed, ten thousand dollar reward canceled!] My vision went black. I almost passed out right there.

The whole place erupted. The guy with the instant soup cup even dropped his fork in shock. My best friend, Chloe, was shaking my shoulder wildly from the edge of the crowd. “Lily! You did it! You brought the ice prince down from his pedestal!” I didn’t feel like I “did it” at all. I just felt a suffocating pain in my chest. My ocean-view condo, my floor-to-ceiling windows, my huge balcony—all gone. I stiffly raised my head, looking at Ethan on the balcony. “Ethan, are you studying for the Bar exam too hard lately? Are you out of your mind?” He had his hands in his pockets, his tone flat. “I’m perfectly clear-headed.” “But you used to say we had no chance!” “That was before.” He paused. “Now I’ve changed my mind.” I was almost in tears. “Ethan, seriously, don’t be impulsive. A forced relationship never works out!” He looked at me, a flicker of an imperceptible smile in his eyes. “Sweet or not, we’ll know once we try.” With that, he turned and went back into the dorm. Less than three minutes later, he came out of the stairwell. He’d changed into a crisp white shirt and dark pants, standing as tall and poised as a runway model. He walked up to me, blocking the streetlights above. “Let’s go.” I took a step back. “Go where?” “Didn’t you ask me to be your boyfriend?” He naturally reached out, taking my wrist. “Come with your boyfriend to study.” His palm was warm, so hot it made me shiver. The system dinged again. [Host has entered a romantic relationship.] [New mission activated: Hold hands with target for five minutes.] [Reward: Five dollars.] I stared fixedly at the “five dollars” in my mind. Five dollars?! I used to get ten thousand for getting yelled at, and now holding hands only gets me five?! Was the system getting a cut from some middleman?! I struggled fiercely. “Ethan, I suddenly remembered I have a huge assignment for my literature class that I haven’t written yet! I have to go!” He didn’t let go; instead, he gripped my hand tighter. “Literature class assignment? Your English Lit department has advanced math this semester?” I choked. He looked down at me, his gaze incredibly penetrating. “Lily, you chased me for two years. Now that you’ve got me, you want to run?” “I didn’t…” “Then just follow along.” He led me, past a sea of guys staring like they’d seen a ghost, out of the dorm area.

All the way, I tried to pull my hand free. But Ethan’s grip was surprisingly strong. He even threaded his fingers through mine, turning it into an intertwined hold. The system slowly announced: [Hand-holding duration met. Five dollars deposited.] I looked at the five-dollar transfer notification on SnapChat, my heart aching like crazy. Taking that money felt like an insult to my intelligence. At the library, Ethan found a window seat. He pushed a thick textbook on contract law in front of me. “Read.” I had no mind to read. My head was filled with how to make him break up with me first. If he broke up with me, maybe the system would still count it as a failed confession and give me that ten thousand dollars. I started acting out. I deliberately dropped my pen on the floor. *Clink.* He bent down, picked it up, and handed it to me. I dropped it again. *Clink.* He picked it up again. The third time, just as I was about to let go, he pressed his hand over mine. “Lily.” “Huh?” “Do you have shaky hands?” I let out a dry laugh. “My hands are just clumsy.” He sighed, pulling his chair closer to mine. We were practically touching. The scent of cedar from him wafted into my nose. “If your hands are clumsy, then don’t write.” He opened the book and pointed to a line of text. “Read this for me.” I looked down. “When an unmarried man adopts a female, the adopter and the adopted must have an age difference of at least forty years.” My eyes widened. “Why are you making me read this?” He rested his chin on one hand, turning his head to look at me. “Just a little legal education.” “And a reminder that no such age difference exists between us, so we can only be legally married.” My face flushed instantly. The system popped up. [Engaged in academic discussion with target. Reward: Ten dollars.] I closed my eyes in anguish. Ten dollars. I couldn’t even buy a decent fancy latte with that. This life was unlivable.

By lunchtime, I decided to use my trump card. Ethan was a germaphobe and super picky, preferring incredibly bland food. He wouldn’t eat anything with strong aromatics like onions, ginger, or garlic, let alone anything with an intense flavor. I dragged him to the notoriously pungent pasta place on the other side of campus. Not only did I order spaghetti, but I also added double stinky cheese and double cilantro. When the bowl arrived, the smell alone could knock a person out. I pushed the bowl towards him. “Honey, eat up. This place is amazing.” I deliberately emphasized “honey,” intending to disgust him. Ethan looked at the bright red, green, and bizarrely smelling noodles, and sure enough, his brow furrowed. My heart surged with delight. Get mad! Just lose it! Say you can’t stand me anymore and want to break up! But instead, he just picked up his fork, slowly selected a noodle, and put it in his mouth. I was stunned. “Don’t you think it smells?” He swallowed, his expression unchanged. “It’s alright.” “But you used to not even eat onions!” He looked up at me. “No one forced me to eat them before.” He picked up a piece of stinky cheese and placed it in my bowl. “You ordered it, eat more.” I looked at that piece of stinky cheese, on the verge of tears. The system dinged. [Had lunch with target. Reward: Twenty dollars.] I listlessly poked at my noodles. Twenty dollars. At this rate, I’d have to be in a relationship for the rest of my life to save up for the condo down payment. After eating, Ethan wiped his mouth with a napkin. “I have moot court practice this afternoon. Are you coming to watch?” I immediately shook my head. “No, I’m going back to the dorm to sleep.” He stood up, walked over to me, and suddenly reached out to pinch my cheek. “Okay, let me know when you wake up, and I’ll bring you dinner.” His actions were so natural that people at several nearby tables turned to look. I covered my face, stammering. “Y-you, don’t touch me like that.” He chuckled. “Boyfriend’s privilege. Might as well use it.” Back in the dorm, Chloe had already scrolled through ninety-nine pages of the university’s gossip forum. “Lily! You’re trending! You’re absolutely viral!” She shoved her phone in my face. The post title was bold and bright: [BREAKING! 100 Confessions Later, They’re Official! Law School Ice Prince Falls for English Lit’s Relentless Suitor!] The comments below were all shocked. [OMG, did this girl cast a spell on him?] [Has Ethan been possessed? He actually held Lily’s hand to the library this morning!] [Not just held hands, they even ate spaghetti in the back alley for lunch! Ethan eating spaghetti! The world has gone mad!] I lay on my bed, my eyes unfocused. “Chloe, I think I got a raw deal.”

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I had kindly driven my neighbor’s son to and from school for a whole year. After his final grades came out, she showed up with her entire family, blocking my garage. She slapped a claim for fifteen thousand dollars into my hand, pointed a finger at my nose, and yelled, “My son was a genius! But your crappy car jolted his brain so bad, it’s ruined! You’re not leaving this garage until you pay up!” I stared at the familiar official seal on the claim form and let out a cold laugh. She had no idea that the owner of that assessment center was my uncle. Not only that, I also knew the real reason her son’s grades plummeted: she’d taken five thousand dollars meant for his tutoring and spent it all on tipping a sexy male streamer. Trying to extort me? I’m about to make you lose everything you have, and leave you with nothing. The underground garage was dimly lit, reeking of a musty smell that never saw sunlight. I’d just parked my car in my designated spot, and hadn’t even unbuckled my seatbelt when three figures suddenly darted out from behind a supporting pillar nearby. They surrounded my car, blocking the front and cutting off all my exits. Leading the charge was my dear neighbor, Brenda Hayes. She was wearing a full face of makeup today, her lipstick a dark, bold shade, her feet clad in four-inch stilettos, and in her hand, she clutched a stack of stark white papers. Trailing behind her were her husband, David Hayes, who usually greeted everyone with a smile but now had a grim expression, and her mother-in-law, Martha Hayes, notorious in the neighborhood for being an absolute pain. “Sophia Miller! Get out of that car right now!” Brenda’s shrill voice exploded in the empty garage, echoing piercingly and making my eardrums ache. I frowned, not getting out immediately. Instead, I lowered my window halfway and stared at her coldly. “Brenda, what the hell is wrong with you, yelling like this so late at night?” “What’s wrong with *me*?” Brenda let out an exaggerated, cold laugh, storming closer to my car window. She raised her hand and slapped the stack of papers against my windshield with a loud smack. “Open your eyes and look at what you’ve done! My perfectly fine son, you utterly ruined him!” Martha, seeing this, immediately scurried closer. Her bony fingers, dry like tree branches, almost poked through the window gap and into my nose. “You evil, cold-hearted woman! We trusted you so much, letting you drive our Leo every day! What were your intentions? Do you hate that you can’t have kids, so you’re jealous of our Leo’s intelligence and deliberately messed with him on the road?” I took a deep breath, suppressing the anger surging in my chest, pushed open the car door, and stepped out. On the windshield, the white A4 paper was almost blinding. The bold, enlarged title at the top screamed, as if desperate for attention: *”Compensation Details for Brain Nerve Damage and Intellectual Developmental Delay Caused by Prolonged Vehicle Jolting.”* I looked at that line of text and laughed, enraged. Reaching out, I yanked the paper off and scanned it under the garage’s dim light. The categories listed were even more detailed than a hospital bill. One-time compensation for intellectual damage: $7,000. Parental emotional distress: $3,000. Follow-up brain rehabilitation and nutrition costs: $2,000. Lost future prospects from failing to get into an elite prep school: $3,000. The last line was heavily circled in red: Total: Fifteen Thousand Dollars. I looked up at Brenda’s face, slightly twisted from extreme agitation. “Fifteen thousand? Brenda, are you trying to extort me, or are you just dreaming in broad daylight?” Brenda crossed her arms, chin held high, looking smug, as if she had me cornered. “Extortion? Sophia, don’t you dare make baseless accusations! It’s all in black and white. This is an official assessment from the most authoritative professional institution in the state! Our Leo used to get perfect scores on every test; he was an absolute prodigy! But ever since he started riding in your clunky car, getting jolted around every day… now his final exam results are out, and he got a D in math! A D! Can you believe it?! The doctor even said it’s because of long-term violent jolting, causing severe attention deficit and irreversible brain nerve damage! If you don’t pay up, you’re not taking another step out of this garage today!”

In the garage, quite a few neighbors who had just gotten home from work had stopped. Some rolled down their car windows, peeking out to watch the drama. Others simply turned off their engines and stood a short distance away, pointing and whispering. Brenda, seeing the crowd grow, seemed to gain instant confidence. Her voice soared even higher, turning into a full-blown, theatrical performance. “Everyone, judge for yourselves! I was kind enough to let her take my child along the way, and she, in turn, drove like a maniac, scrambling my son’s brain! Now his future is ruined, and she won’t even say sorry, trying to avoid paying!” A few hushed whispers immediately rose from the crowd. “Wow, can a car ride really mess up someone’s brain? Never heard of that.” “Who knows, kids these days are so delicate. But driving someone else’s kid, it really does seem like no good deed goes unpunished. You just can’t be a good Samaritan anymore.” “Fifteen thousand dollars, Sophia’s really unlucky to end up with a neighbor like this.” David chimed in at the right moment, his face stern, feigning reasonableness and concern for the bigger picture. “Sophia, we’re all neighbors in the building, we see each other every day. We don’t want to make things too ugly, and we definitely don’t want to go to court. But this situation, it’s clearly all your fault. Just pay the fifteen thousand dollars without a fuss, and we’ll pretend nothing happened. We can still say hello when we see each other.” Friends? Say hello? I looked at this utterly hypocritical trio, a wave of nausea churning in my stomach. This entire year, how much had I helped their family? Rain or shine, if Brenda said, “I’m getting my hair done, I’ll be late, can you wait a bit longer?” I’d have to wait for Leo in the cold outside the school for half an hour. Leo would eat messy cookies and drink sticky sodas in my car, leaving crumbs and spills everywhere, and I never said a harsh word. I just quietly paid to get the car detailed myself. Now, because her son isn’t studying, his grades dropped, and they blame it on my car being too bumpy, damaging his brain? I lowered my gaze, looking at the so-called “Compensation Details” again. My eyes slowly moved down, finally landing on the blue stamp in the bottom right corner. Blue Sky Children’s Development Assessment Center. I paused. Then, an irrepressible cold smirk curved my lips. Blue Sky Assessment Center? What a coincidence. The big boss behind this institution was none other than my uncle, Richard Miller.

I had just been to his office last month, enjoying some excellent coffee. At the time, he was complaining to me that too many people were counterfeiting their institution’s official seal to scam people, severely damaging their reputation. Their legal department was about to team up with the police for a large-scale arrest. Brenda, seeing me smile at the stamp, thought I was stunned into silence. She advanced triumphantly. “What? What are you laughing at? Nothing to say, huh? Sophia, I advise you to pay up quickly. Otherwise, I’ll post this in the residents’ SnapChat group, and the school parents’ group! I’ll let everyone know what a cold-blooded, heartless person you are!” I slowly folded the paper and calmly slipped it into my designer bag. “Alright.” Brenda froze, seemingly unprepared for my reaction. “What did you say?” I looked at her, every word clear and forceful. “I said, alright. Post it wherever you want, go viral if you wish. But Brenda, I’m making myself clear right here and right now. I won’t give you a single cent, not a single dime of that fifteen thousand. Not only will I not pay, but I’ll make you pay a price you can’t afford for this worthless piece of paper.” With that, I turned, got back into my car, and slammed the door shut with a bang. I started the engine, shifted into gear, and floored the accelerator. The three-hundred-horsepower engine instantly let out a beastly roar, and the tires screeched against the epoxy floor of the underground garage. David and Martha shrieked, their faces pale, scrambling to hide behind a nearby pillar. Brenda, retreating too quickly in her high heels, twisted her ankle and fell hard on the ground, her perfectly made-up face instantly contorted in pain. I rolled down my window, coldly tossing out a warning: “If you’re not afraid to die, keep blocking my car with your body.” Then, I swerved the steering wheel, my car brushing past their clothes as I drove away. In my rearview mirror, Brenda frantically picked herself up from the ground, pointing and cursing at my taillights like a complete banshee. I activated my car’s Bluetooth and called Mr. Jenkins, the property manager. “Mr. Jenkins, underground garage, Zone B, spot 102. Someone was causing trouble and blocking my vehicle. Please immediately retrieve the last ten minutes of surveillance footage and preserve it exactly as is. If a single second is missing, I’ll hold you accountable.” Hanging up, I took a deep breath of the cool air in the car. The war had just begun.

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“You come here every single day; if I’m not annoyed, I’m certainly annoyed for myself! Haven’t you ever seen a decent spa before? You’re practically living here, trying to squeeze every last cent out of that card! Look at you, you pathetic cheapskate!” Those were Kyle’s exact words, the head technician at the ‘Dreamland Premier Wellness & Beauty Spa’, as he pointed his finger right in my face. I’d paid twenty thousand dollars for an unlimited black card. I’d only used it for less than half a month when he publicly humiliated me. That’s when I lost it. “Kyle, what do you mean by that?” I pulled out my phone to message him on SnapChat, but the message just sat there, stuck on “unsent”! He’d actually blocked me! Pure rage engulfed me. I was trembling, so I immediately stormed back to the spa to demand a refund from the owner. But Sharon, the owner, slowly pulled out a “special cancellation clause” I’d never seen before. “Sophia, according to our store policy, if a client voluntarily cancels their membership, the refund must be calculated based on the highest-tier single session prices for our facial anti-aging and full-body essential oil SPA treatments.” “You’ve visited us 15 times this past half-month. At fifteen hundred dollars per session, that’s twenty-two thousand five hundred dollars. Plus, there’s a two thousand dollar fee for imported oils, two thousand for the premium room service, and three thousand for equipment wear and tear.” “All told, you don’t get a refund; you actually owe us three thousand dollars more.” I almost laughed out loud from sheer anger. Oh, this is rich. This is really rich. Leaving the spa, I immediately called Mr. Davis, the property manager. “Hello, Mr. Davis? That ‘Dreamland Spa’ on the third floor of the mall? I’m not renewing their lease next month!”

The moment I realized I’d been blocked, a switch flipped in my brain. I couldn’t stand it for another second. I stomped in my heels straight to the spa on the third floor. Before I even pushed open the opulent glass door, the piercing sound of laughter spilled out. “That Sophia, she’s something else! Acts like she owns the place just because she got an unlimited black card. She practically lives here!” “Tell me about it! I’ve seen plenty of women like her. Probably blew her savings or maxed out all her credit cards just to afford that twenty thousand dollar card, all so she could pretend to be a socialite here!” “Fk! I’m sick of looking at her face! She has me massaging her all day, my hands are going to fall off!” That was Kyle’s voice, full of undisguised contempt and mockery. A few of the junior beauticians chimed in with snide remarks: “Kyle’s right. Her skin’s as rough as sandpaper; even the most expensive oils are useless on her! She should just stop coming and making a fool of herself!” “I bet she’s just desperate for attention, looking for a strong man like Kyle to pamper her!” “Hahahaha! Basically, just a cheapskate trying to freeload!” Their piercing laughter felt like needles pricking my ears. Rage surged through me, threatening to burst out. I couldn’t hold back anymore. I shoved the front door open violently and stormed inside. *Bang!* The laughter inside abruptly stopped. The air instantly dropped to freezing. Everyone stared at me as if they’d seen a ghost. “What right do you have to talk behind my back? Apologize to me, now!” I screamed, my eyes fixed on Kyle. The junior beauticians nervously lowered their heads, looking flustered. Kyle, however, only froze for a second before rolling his eyes dramatically and sneering. “Nobody was talking about you. What are you going crazy about?” “That’s a lie! I heard everything clearly from outside the door!” “No one else heard it, just you?” Kyle crossed his arms, wearing a defiant and arrogant smirk. “Are you crazy from all these treatments, hearing things?” As soon as he said that, a few junior beauticians couldn’t help but snicker, covering their mouths. Kyle puffed out his chest, smug as a general who’d won a battle. I clenched my fists so tight my nails dug deep into my palms, drawing blood. “Then why did you block me?” I demanded, grinding my teeth. Kyle eyed me dismissively, looking me up and down. “Look, lady! I’m so busy every day, I have to attend to so many real high-rollers worth millions of dollars!” “You keep sending messages to book appointments, it’s endless! I’m not your personal chat companion!” “Then what was that post you made about? What do you mean ‘pathetic cheapskate’?” “My card is unlimited! What right do you have to complain about how often I come?” “Didn’t you say today was fully booked? Why are you just standing here chatting if you’re so busy?” Kyle sneered, walking up to me and looking down. “Don’t I need a break? Get your facts straight, I’m a senior technician, not your slave!” “You bought a card and now you think you’re hot stuff? Who do you think you are, queen bee?” As he spoke, his chin was raised high, a disgusting look of superiority on his face. The other beauticians no longer bothered to hide their expressions, all casting looks of disdain and amusement. My temples throbbed with fury, and even my breath tasted of blood. I didn’t want to waste another second talking to this jerk. I turned and rushed to find Sharon, the owner, to get my refund.

Sharon’s office was at the end of the hallway. She was a woman in her forties with heavy makeup, reeking of cheap perfume and shrewd calculation. After I explained why I was there, she took a slow sip of her tea. Then, she leisurely pulled out a contract from her drawer, one I’d never seen before. “Sophia, calm down. But, you see, according to our store policy, if a client voluntarily cancels their membership, the refund must be calculated based on the highest-tier single session prices.” “You’ve visited us 15 times. At fifteen hundred dollars per session, that’s twenty-two thousand five hundred dollars. Plus, there’s a two thousand dollar fee for imported oils, a thousand for utilities, a thousand for equipment wear, and a thousand for service fees.” “All told, not only do you not get a refund, but you actually owe us three thousand dollars more.” I was so angry I laughed, then slammed that flimsy contract onto the table. “Sharon, are you serious? Is this a robbery? I never saw this contract when I bought the card!” Sharon’s face subtly changed, and her eyes hardened. “Sophia, it’s all in writing, our store policy. Go ahead and ask around, all the high-end places do this.” “Fine, then I’m not canceling. I want a different technician.” I said coldly. According to their store’s rules, if a customer demanded a different technician, Kyle’s commissions and bonuses for the month would be out the window, and he’d even get docked pay. Sharon’s face instantly turned ugly. “All our other technicians are fully booked, their schedules are packed.” “Kyle has always been our most outstanding head technician; no customer has ever complained about him. It must be a communication problem on your end!” “How about this, I’ll go talk to him for you later and ask him to continue doing your treatments. And you, well, you should try to control your temper and not always act so high and mighty.” My brain felt like it was about to explode from anger. So, it’s all my fault now? I took a deep breath, suppressing the urge to smash up the office. Finally, I said nothing, just pulled out my phone, snapped a picture of that ridiculous contract, and turned to leave. Behind me, Sharon snorted disdainfully, “Who does she think she is, trying to act like a big shot when she’s broke?”

For the next few days, I deliberately didn’t cancel the card and kept booking appointments. Since it was unlimited, I wanted to see what other tricks they had up their sleeves. Kyle outwardly resumed giving me treatments, but in reality, he was maliciously retaliating. Under the guise of a “deep detox,” he put me in the hottest sauna room. Normally, I’d steam for twenty minutes at most; he kept me in there for a full hour. I was also forced to drink scalding “detox tea.” I couldn’t stand the heat anymore and got up to leave. But then I discovered the sauna door was locked from the outside! I pounded on the glass door, shouting for help. Kyle stood just outside the door, watching me through the glass, sipping iced watermelon juice and smiling maliciously. “Sophia, you have too many toxins in your system; you need to sweat it out more!” “Didn’t you insist on coming for treatments? Take it or leave it!” He mouthed an insult at me. My head was spinning from the heat, my vision started to blur, and my heart pounded uncontrollably. He gave me the middle finger from outside. “You pathetic cheapskate, I’m doing this for your own good! To cleanse you of your poor vibes!” I finally endured until the time was up. When the door opened, I was completely drained, collapsing onto the damp floor, unable to get up. Just then, a few VIP clients walked in. I weakly tried to ask them for help. They were all Kyle’s regulars and had always resented me for “coming every day to take advantage.” They watched me coldly, making no move to help, instead covering their mouths and snickering. “Oh, isn’t that Sophia, the one who’s always clinging to Kyle? She really knows how to take advantage. Just because she bought a year pass? She has no sense of propriety!” “Exactly! Because of her, Kyle was upset, and he wasn’t even in the mood to chat when he was giving us our SPA!” “Heh heh! Serves her right! Must be crazy with poverty!” After that, they disdainfully walked past me, strolling smugly into the changing room. I bit my lip until it bled, forcing myself to stand up. Good. Very good. You all just wait.

One evening, Kyle, claiming he was too busy during the day, deliberately scheduled my appointment for ten p.m. That was almost closing time. After the treatment, I was completely exhausted. I dragged my wobbly body to the shower. I had just lathered shampoo into my hair when, suddenly, the water stopped! Then, *click*, the bathroom lights went out. The entire space plunged into dead silence and darkness. I yelled for a long time, but no one answered. I had no choice but to haphazardly wipe the soap off my body with a towel, fumble in the dark to put on my clothes, and rush out. The huge spa was completely dark and empty. Kyle stood outside the glass front door, illuminated by the faint corridor light, grinning chillingly at me like a demon. A bad feeling instantly washed over me. I hurried towards the front door. Suddenly, my foot slipped! I fell hard onto the unforgiving marble floor. “Ah!” A piercing pain instantly shot through my entire body. I cried out in agony, tears streaming from my eyes. In my panic, I reached out to feel the floor, only to discover it was covered in slippery massage oil! Not only that, a sharp, stabbing pain shot through my palm. I used the faint light from my phone to see: the oil was scattered with countless thumbtacks! My palms and knees were covered in blood from the punctures! Furious and in pain, I trembled as I looked up. Kyle stood outside the door, watching me with a smug, gloating expression, and mouthed, “Serves you right! Go to hell!” The next second, he cruelly pulled down the rolling shutter, locked it, and walked away, completely satisfied. My insides trembled with rage. Enduring the intense pain, I forced myself to get up. I shouted for help, but after a long time, only dead silence echoed back. I wanted to call the police, but when I picked up my phone, I realized there was no signal! They had installed a jammer! Desperate and helpless, I used my phone’s flashlight, limping to the front desk, and grabbed a heavy metal bar stool. I swung it violently at the expensive tempered glass door. Once! Twice! Three times! *CRASH! BANG! SMASH!* Glass shards flew everywhere, and the sound of shattering echoed throughout the entire floor. Dragging my injured body, I scrambled out of the spa in a mess, ran outside the mall, and immediately called 911 and an ambulance. The process of removing the pins at the hospital was agonizing. The doctors looked at my multiple injuries, shaking their heads with sighs. By the time I left the hospital, it was already dawn. Without even changing my clothes, I went straight to the police station. “Officer, I want to report a crime! Someone illegally detained me and intentionally harmed me!”

Half an hour later, Kyle arrived at the police station, his face tight. The moment he saw me, he pointed his finger at me and started yelling curses, his tone arrogant and vicious. “Are you sick? Reporting the damn police in the middle of the night! You fell down yourself by accident, and you’re blaming me? Don’t you sleep, but everyone else does!” Sharon, the owner, also arrived. She looked bleary-eyed, her hair disheveled, and her words were full of bias and blame. “Sophia, you’re aggressive in your speech, and you deliberately make things difficult for our Kyle. He’s already being generous by not bothering with you!” “And what about you? Reporting the police in the middle of the night over a trivial matter, causing trouble for people, it’s too much! I haven’t even charged you for smashing our store door yet!” I coldly swept my gaze over them. I pointed to the injury report on the table, then rolled up my sleeves, revealing the dense pinpricks and bruises on my arms and knees. “Trivial matter?” “Just because I bought an unlimited year card and came a bit more frequently, he got resentful and maliciously subjected me to physical punishment, locking me in a high-temperature sauna!” “Last night, he was even more insane, locking me in the store and deliberately pouring oil and scattering thumbtacks on the floor to harm me!” “You call this a trivial matter? This is attempted murder!” Sharon looked at me indifferently, a mocking smirk even playing on her lips. “Do you have any proof of what you’re saying?” “The surveillance footage is proof! Officer, I demand you check their store’s surveillance cameras!” I shouted. Sharon rolled her eyes and spread her hands. “Oh, how unlucky, our store’s surveillance system just happened to break yesterday afternoon. It’s still being repaired.” “You…!” A vein throbbed on my forehead, and I trembled with anger. Kyle, hiding behind Sharon, defiantly raised an eyebrow at me, flashing an extremely irritating smile. The next second, he pulled out his phone and, right in front of me, started fabricating stories in the VIP client SnapChat group, whining about what happened. He sent a voice message: “Ladies, you all see how it is every day, please speak up and clarify things for me! That Sophia went crazy, smashed up the store, and even called the police to arrest me!” The few wealthy clients in the group who had bought session cards and always disliked me quickly replied: “She’s lying! She clearly had malicious intentions towards Kyle, touching him inappropriately during her oil massage. She held a grudge after Kyle firmly rejected her, and that’s why she’s trying to frame him!” “Exactly! She clearly hid in the store on purpose, trying to prevent Kyle from leaving work, that’s why she got locked in. Those thumbtacks? She must have deliberately pricked herself, it’s a sympathy ploy! The whole thing is her own doing, that woman is truly evil!” “Kyle has always been so good to her, often sending her fruit and snacks. Not only is she ungrateful, but she’s also turning on him! She’s an absolute ungrateful wretch! They should arrest her instead!” Listening to those voice messages, my blood rushed to my head. I wanted to smash the phone in their faces. Sharon patted my shoulder, her tone full of a victor’s mockery. “Sophia, be a decent person! Stop causing trouble! You *will* pay for that door!” Kyle leaned close to me, speaking in a low, biting voice that only I could hear: “This is just a small warning! If you don’t learn your lesson and keep coming here every day, I’ll make sure you’re bedridden for life! And I’ll ruin that face of yours!” I glared at him. If looks could kill, he would have been sliced into a thousand pieces. Because of insufficient evidence — the surveillance was indeed broken, and I had destroyed the scene by smashing the door — the police could only temporarily not file a case. They treated it as a regular dispute, offered some admonishment, and sent us all home, telling me to compensate for the damaged glass door. Outside the police station, Kyle and Sharon walked arm in arm, like a victorious pair of scoundrels. They smirked at me, then got into Sharon’s BMW, embracing. I stood in the cold morning wind, hurting physically and raging inside, having been awake all night, my eyes bloodshot. But I didn’t cry. I pulled out my phone and dialed a number. “Hello, Mr. Davis? That ‘Dreamland Spa’ on the third floor of the mall? I’m not renewing their lease next month!”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “409388”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

The dawn of my surgery, Ethan signed the consent form. Not to save me – but to take my bone marrow. After his sister, Chloe, was diagnosed with severe aplastic anemia, he and my stepmother, Victoria, conspired to trick me into the hospital. My bone marrow saved Chloe. I, on the other hand, developed a post-op infection and never left my bed again. I was barely twenty-six, and my immune system had completely crashed. The day the infection spread, he told me our entire marriage was for Chloe’s illness, that he’d checked my genetic match before marrying me. He said, “Your bone marrow saved a life. It was worth it.” Perhaps my very bones were screaming for justice on my behalf. When I opened my eyes again, I’d moved out of that city before he could find me. As for Chloe’s illness, this time, let’s see how you protect her. “Skylar, your dad’s last words, the night he left us, were for me to take good care of you.” My phone screen lit up for three seconds. Incoming call, my stepmother, Victoria. I answered. “What do you want?” “I’ve been looking for you for two years, and you haven’t returned a single call. If your dad knew how you were treating me—” “He won’t know now.” A few seconds of silence on her end. “Skylar, there’s someone who wants to meet you. He says you’re fated to meet.” “His name is Ethan.” The name drilled into my ear like an ice pick stabbing the back of my neck. “He says you two are a good match to get to know each other. His family is in pharmaceuticals, he’s a good person, I’ve vetted him for you—” I hit End Call. Turned off my phone. Threw it in the drawer. Two years. New city, new number, new company. I thought I’d run far enough. The next day at work, a bouquet of white Eustoma flowers sat on my desk. Harper poked her head over from the next cubicle. “Who sent them? A delivery guy came up specially early this morning.” I flipped open the card at the bottom of the bouquet. Printed text, one sentence. “Hello, Skylar.” No signature. But I recognized the flowers. In my last life, at our wedding, he personally chose white Eustoma as the main flower. Their language was unchanging love. I tossed the card and the flowers into the trash. Harper nearly spat out her coffee. “That’s decisive, even for you.” “The sender isn’t a good person.” “An ex?” “Worse than an ex.” Her eyebrows furrowed, and her mouth opened, but she didn’t press for details. At noon, I went out for coffee. A black car was parked outside the shop. The window rolled down halfway, revealing a face I’d seen repeatedly in countless nightmares. He had high brows, a straight nose, and a sharp jawline. The first time I saw him in my last life, my heart skipped a beat. Now, seeing him, all I felt was a sour twist in my stomach. “Skylar.” He called my name the exact same way as in my last life, with a slight upward lilt at the end. “Who are you?” “Ethan. Your stepmother should have mentioned me.” “She’s mentioned a lot of scammers.” He gave a small smile. The kind that was gentle, disarming. He used to smile like that, making you drop your guard instantly. “I’m not a scammer. I just wanted to buy you a coffee.” “No thanks.” “Five minutes is all I need.” He looked at me, utterly sincere. “There’s something I absolutely have to tell you in person. It’s about you.” About you. That’s how he started last time. A hook impossible to refuse, luring me willingly into his cage. “You checked my genetic match.” His pupils contracted. But quickly returned to normal. “What match? I don’t understand.” “If you don’t understand, why are you looking for me?” “Just to get acquainted.” He pulled a business card from his pocket and held it out. “I’m working on a rare disease charity foundation—” “New packaging, same old trick.” His hand froze in mid-air. “Last life, you used a class reunion.” The moment those words slipped out, I knew I’d said too much. “Last life?” His brows subtly furrowed. “I meant the last time. The last time you contacted Victoria, you made up an excuse then too.” No one took the business card. He retracted his hand and looked at me for a few seconds. “Skylar, you’ve misunderstood me.” “No. I understand you perfectly.” I turned and walked three steps before his voice caught up from behind. Not rushed or annoyed, even carrying a hint of a smile. “Skylar, my sister is dying.” I stopped. Not out of softness. But because he’d never said those words in my last life. Back then, he’d wrapped the truth in ten layers of sugar coating, waiting until I was married, on the operating table, to tear off the paper. “Her name is Chloe, she’s twenty-three, and she has severe aplastic anemia. No one in our family is a match. The national bone marrow registry can’t find a suitable donor either.” His voice was as calm as if he were reading a medical chart. “Only you. Your HLA match is perfect with hers. Ten out of ten loci, a complete match. That’s a one in a hundred thousand probability.” The wind blew. My coffee grew cold. He stood in the late autumn light, smiling gently, like a kind-hearted person asking for help. “What does that have to do with me?” “Your genes can save her.” “They’re my genes. Not your tools.” His smile finally cracked. “I never thought of you as a tool.” I turned and walked into the office building. The moment the glass doors closed, I saw the expression on his face in the reflection. It was no longer gentle. “Skylar, if you don’t help her, can you live with yourself?”

“What did you say to him yesterday?” Victoria’s call came in again. This time, I didn’t hang up. I needed to know what cards she still held. “I didn’t say anything.” “He told me you mentioned a genetic match. How would you know about that?” I leaned against the tiled wall in the restroom, my voice steady. “He let it slip himself.” “He also said you said some very strange things. Skylar, have you been listening to rumors?” “What rumors?” “Some people say the Victor family is using you. That’s nonsense. Ethan is a respectable man, his family runs a pharmaceutical group—” “So, how much did you take?” Silence on her end for two seconds. “Skylar, why do you always think that about Mom?” “Just tell me.” Her tone sharpened a little, like I’d stepped on her tail. “Skylar, after your dad passed, I was left to shoulder everything! You ran off for two years, leaving me to handle the mortgage and utilities alone. The Victor family is just being charitable—” “You call selling my medical report to someone else ‘charitable’?” “Who sold it? Who sold it!” Her voice became shrill. “Your dad asked me to keep it for you! Ethan came asking about you, and I was just showing concern—” “You even told him which hospital I had my check-ups at.” “That was—” “Thyroid function, complete blood count, full immune panel. And HLA typing. Victoria, ordinary people don’t get HLA tests unless it’s for an organ or bone marrow transplant.” The breathing on the other end caught. A long silence followed. She switched her tone, softening, easing, like she’d put on a different mask. “Skylar, even if I did something wrong, that girl is really dying. I saw her photos, she’s only twenty-three, just skin and bones—” “It has nothing to do with me.” “Can’t you just go for a match confirmation? It’s just a simple blood draw—” “That’s what you told me last time.” The words slipped out, and I immediately clamped my mouth shut. “Last time? What last time?” “Nothing.” “Skylar, you’ve been talking stranger and stranger lately. ‘Last life,’ ‘last time’—” “I’m hanging up.” I turned off my phone and stood at the sink for two minutes. My knuckles were turning white. I’d let it slip again. Every time I faced these two, memories from my last life surged out, uncontrollable. In the afternoon, Harper returned from outside, her face troubled. “Skylar, there’s a woman downstairs. She says she’s your mother.” “She’s not.” “She was crying really hard. Security asked if she wanted them to call the police, and she said her daughter hadn’t come home in two years, and she just wanted to see her.” I walked to the window. Victoria stood at the office building entrance. Plain dress, no makeup, red-rimmed eyes, clutching an old worn bag. A forty-seven-year-old woman, her hair perfectly neat, her scarf tucked into her collar, exposing only a sliver of her collarbone. Light makeup, simple clothes—a perfect picture of a wronged, devoted mother. She adjusted her glasses, borrowed a tissue from a passerby to wipe her tears, and thanked them three times as they handed it to her. Such a good performance. “Keep an eye on her for me,” I told Harper. “See who she contacts.” Harper hesitated. “She really isn’t your mom?” “My mom died nineteen years ago.” Harper didn’t ask again. I slipped out the back door of the office building and hid in the convenience store across the street. Through the glass, I saw Victoria pull out her phone. The call lasted less than thirty seconds. After hanging up, she glanced up at the office building, and her lips curved slightly. Not the kind of smile someone genuinely crying would have. Ten minutes later, the black car appeared at the intersection. Ethan got out of the car and walked to her side. They exchanged a few words. He handed her an envelope. Victoria took it, looked down at it, and smiled. She accepted the envelope much faster than she’d wiped away her tears. I pulled out my phone and took a photo. Time, location, both their faces. Harper sent me a message: “She left, with another guy. Do you know him?” “Yes.” “Should you call the police?” “Not yet.” Back at the office, a brown envelope sat on my desk. Not a delivery. Someone had placed it there directly while I was out. I tore it open. A hospital report. Not mine. Chloe’s. Her white blood cell count was alarmingly low. Platelets almost zero. A note was attached at the end. “Skylar, she only has two months left. You are her only hope.” On the back was another small line: “If you don’t come, her blood is on your hands.” Harper leaned over. “What is it?” I flipped the note over and showed her the last line. She stared at it for five seconds. “Is that a threat, seriously?”

“Miss Skylar, someone’s here to see you. In the conference room.” The receptionist’s voice carried a subtle peculiarity. Colleagues along the hallway were all secretly glancing in that direction. I pushed open the conference room door. A thin, frail girl sat in a chair. Her face was sallow, her lips almost bloodless. Her hands showed bruised marks from IV lines. Chloe. She looked even more gaunt than I remembered from my last life. She saw me, and her eyes immediately reddened. “Miss Skylar.” Her voice was so weak it sounded like a puff of wind could scatter it. “I know I shouldn’t have come to you directly.” Next to her sat a middle-aged woman. Her makeup was meticulously applied, but beneath it was an undisguised scrutinizing gaze. “And who are you?” The woman stood up, extending her hand. “I’m Chloe’s mother, Eleanor. Thank you for agreeing to see us.” I didn’t take her hand. Eleanor’s hand hung in the air for two seconds, then retracted. The smile on her face didn’t falter. Chloe lowered her head, a tear falling onto her oversized cardigan. Beneath the cardigan, the blue and white stripes of a hospital gown were visible. “I’m not here to beg you. I just wanted to see what you look like with my own eyes.” “Why look at me?” “Ethan said your genetic match is perfect with mine.” “I didn’t know about this before. I looked up a lot of information, and bone marrow donation usually causes minimal harm to the donor—” “Usually.” She paused. “You said usually.” I looked at her face. “Did you also look up the probability of post-op infection? Did you read about cases where donors’ immune systems crashed?” Chloe’s lips moved, but she didn’t respond. Eleanor interjected. “Miss Skylar, medical conditions are very advanced now. The post-op infection rate in large hospitals is less than one percent. We will hire the best specialists—” “Your daughter’s life matters, but mine doesn’t?” The conference room fell silent for two seconds. Eleanor’s expression shifted subtly, then quickly morphed into a more polished smile. She took a bank card from her bag and pushed it across the table. “Miss Skylar, you’re right. So we want to talk to you properly. Compensation-wise, just name your price.” I glanced at the card. “You think bone marrow can be priced.” “It’s not pricing! It’s gratitude—” “Your gratitude involves first buying my genetic information, then having Ethan approach me under the guise of a charity foundation. What’s next? Is the next step arranging a blind date?” Eleanor’s hand froze on the table. Chloe looked up. “Miss Skylar, what are you saying? Ethan wouldn’t—” “Chloe, do you know how Ethan found me?” Her lips trembled. “He said… it was through the bone marrow registry.” “I’ve never registered with any bone marrow registry.” Her eyelashes fluttered. The conference room door was pushed open. Ethan walked in. His gaze swept over Eleanor and Chloe, finally landing on me. “Mom, I told you not to bring Chloe.” There was restrained annoyance in his voice. He then turned to me, his expression switching to that infuriatingly gentle one. “Skylar, I’m sorry. They’re just too desperate.” He was always playing the good guy. “Skylar, I know you’re wary of me.” He sat opposite me, hands clasped. “But this isn’t just between you and me. There’s a twenty-three-year-old life at stake.” “That life has nothing to do with me.” “Your genes can save her.” “Those are my genes, not your pharmacy.” His jawline tightened for a moment. Chloe suddenly began to cough violently. Eleanor quickly supported her. She turned to me and yelled, “Look at her! Look at what she’s become—” “Mom!” Ethan said in a low, sharp voice. Chloe pressed her hand to her mouth, her fingertips stained with blood. She looked up and gave me a faint smile. “Miss Skylar, it’s okay. If you don’t want to, I don’t blame you.” That sentence was more effective than all the pleas and accusations. Because when she smiled, there was something in her eyes. Not pleading, but certainty. She was certain I would compromise, just like in my last life. “Conference room time is up. Please leave.” When I walked out the door, everyone in the hallway was watching. Someone whispered, their voice not too loud, not too soft, just loud enough for me to hear. “That girl is so pathetic, dying of leukemia, why won’t she save her…” “It’s just a little bone marrow donation.” My steps paused, then I continued walking. Ethan’s voice followed me from behind, gentle, considerate, for all my colleagues to hear. “Skylar, whenever you change your mind, contact me. I’ll be waiting.”

“Skylar!” Harper grabbed me as soon as she arrived at the office, her palms cold. “You’re trending.” She handed me her phone. A post. Over three thousand shares. The title: “My sister can save me, but she refused.” The profile picture was a blurry hospital photo. The text was long. The gist was—she had severe aplastic anemia, and her entire family was a mismatch. She finally found the only perfect donor in a vast sea of people and gathered all her courage to meet them. The other person refused. The post didn’t mention my name. But it listed the city, the industry, and the specific building and district where my company was located. The comments section was flooded. “It’s just a bone marrow donation that can save a life, how can she refuse?” “It might not be illegal, but what about her conscience?” “This kind of person should be dragged through the mud online.” I handed the phone back to Harper. “What do we do?” she whispered. “HR has already inquired. Asking if you’re the person in the post.” “It’s me.” “Skylar—” “Don’t panic yet. Help me find something out. This post was made yesterday at 11:47 PM. Can you trace the IP address?” “I’ll try.” At ten o’clock that morning, my supervisor called me into his office. “Skylar, the company is facing a lot of public pressure right now. Clients have seen it too.” He pushed up his glasses. “Can you take a leave of absence for now? Come back after things have settled down.” “How long?” “It depends.” I didn’t argue. Arguing was useless. The post was precise down to the floor number. Anyone who could do that either had been to the company or had an insider. While packing my things, my phone rang. It was Victoria. “Skylar, you saw the online situation, right?” There was a prickle of smugness in her voice. “I think that girl has a point—” “Did you help her post it?” “Not me. But running away like this isn’t a solution.” “How much money did you take, exactly?” “Skylar!” I gripped the phone, my knuckles white. “How much did the Victor family give you? Name your price.” She fell silent for three seconds. Then her voice dropped, as if she finally gave up pretending. “Five hundred thousand. They gave me five hundred thousand upfront. Said they’d give another five hundred thousand once it was done.” A million. My bone marrow was worth a million. She probably got the same price in my last life. Only, I died then without ever knowing. “Skylar, just do me a favor—” “You’re not my mom.” I hung up. At noon, the office door was pushed open. Two people in white coats stood at the entrance. “Excuse me, are you Ms. Skylar? We’re the medical check-up agency that partners with your company, here for the annual employee check-ups today.” My supervisor stood behind them, nodding at me. “Since you haven’t left yet, you might as well get your check-up done.” I looked at their faces. I’d been to the company’s partnered check-up agency twice before, and I’d never seen these two. “There’s no check-up scheduled for today.” “It’s a last-minute addition.” The man in the white coat smiled. “Just a blood draw, it’ll be quick.” Blood draw. One of the ways to confirm HLA matching is a blood test. “I’m not doing it.” “Miss Skylar—” “I said no.” I picked up my bag and started to walk out. The man moved half a step, blocking the doorway. “It’ll take three minutes.” He already had a blood collection tube and tourniquet in his hand. Harper’s voice came from outside. “Which medical agency are you from? Show me your ID badge.” “This colleague—” “Are you going to show me? If not, I’m calling 911.” A commotion erupted outside the door. I squeezed past the man, Harper grabbed my arm, and we both rushed into the elevator. The moment the elevator doors closed, I saw Ethan’s figure in the lobby. He leaned by the reception desk, hands in his pockets. Seeing my gaze, he subtly tilted his head. A slight curve of his lips. Not an apology, but a silent “you can’t escape.” Harper shoved me into her car. She drove for ten minutes before stopping in an underground parking garage. “Those two people’s ID numbers were fake. I already called the check-up company, and they said there were no plans scheduled for today.” She handed me a bottle of water. I twisted it open and drank half. “Skylar, what exactly is going on? Tell me everything, from the beginning.” I looked at her. There weren’t many people left in this world I trusted. In my last life, I didn’t even have a single friend. “You’ll be scared if I tell you.” “Just tell me.” I recounted everything. Except for the part about being reborn. Harper listened, silent for a long time. “He used your stepmother as an insider to get your genetic data. After confirming the match, he looked for you for two years. Now his sister can’t wait any longer, and he’s even faking medical check-ups, trying to forcibly take your blood.” “Yeah.” “That’s a crime.” “I know.” “Then why aren’t you calling the police right now?” I looked out at the dark parking garage. Call the police. I had in my last life too. The police came, he pulled out our marriage certificate and called it a domestic dispute. Victoria stood next to him, nodding along. No one spoke up for me. “Let’s wait.” “Wait for what?” “Wait for him to think I’m truly at my wit’s end.” Harper stared at me for a long time. “Skylar, are you playing chess?” “Something like that.” “Then what do you need?” “Someone to set up cameras for me.”

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After Christina, my girlfriend, saw her massive garden wither overnight, she sued me, Ethan, Ashworth’s top florist, and I was sentenced to three years in prison. While inside, I heard about her ninth engagement to her ex, Raphael. A reporter asked her: “Ms. Christina, the first thing you did after sending Mr. Ethan to prison was to get engaged to this gentleman. Is there a connection between these two events?” “Don’t make wild guesses. Raphael and I are just pretending to be engaged to punish Ethan for his floristry mistake. I’ll wait for Ethan to get out of prison, then I’ll marry him!” Christina faced the reporters with an annoyed tone, her words clearly defending me. Everyone present couldn’t help but marvel at the wealthy heiress’s love for me, bizarre as it was, it seemed profound. Everyone at Ashworth knew Christina loved flowers more than anything. So, a mandatory condition for her future husband was exquisite floristry skills, someone who would meticulously care for her sprawling estate garden. To ensure I passed her endless tests, whenever I made a mistake, she’d punish me with a ‘fake engagement’ to her ex. I never expected that this time, the punishment would include sending me to jail. I watched the poor quality news footage, finding it dull and hypocritical.

After three years of torment and my release from prison, Christina actually knelt before me, her eyes full of eagerness and remorse: “Marry me, Ethan? The past is the past. I forgive you.” “Forgive me?” I replied, stunned. I looked at the once imperious Christina, now kneeling before me in a heavy, elaborate wedding dress and high heels. I admit, I was somewhat disoriented, but mostly, I felt the exhaustion from three years of relentless torment. “Hey! What are you staring at? Don’t you see what Christina is doing? Just say yes!” Seeing the wealthy heiress so eager to marry a disheveled ex-con, the onlookers, who were just there to gawk and applaud, couldn’t help but scold me, the male lead. The swarming media and crowds created an oppressive atmosphere, forcing me to bend down, intending to help Christina up first. Just as I extended my hand, ready to push away the ring and refuse, Christina suddenly handed the ring to Raphael, who was beside her, and burst out laughing at me: “Look at you, still so clueless. You haven’t even passed my test yet, and you’re already dreaming of marrying me? What are you thinking?” “Right, Raphael? This ring was custom-made for your size. A birthday surprise for you! Happy?” Her gaze towards Raphael was full of girlish anticipation. Before Christina’s words even faded, the roar of laughter from the crowd became deafening. “So funny! Doesn’t he take a good look at himself? Still fantasizing about marrying a rich heiress.” “Why does Christina fall for a guy like him?” “I don’t think Ms. Christina is infatuated. It’s Ethan who’s willing to grovel like a dog for Ms. Christina.” “Ms. Christina is used to charming millionaires, but a lapdog? That’s new.” As the background music swelled to a climax, my head buzzed, and I couldn’t hear anything clearly. All I saw were faces sneering at me, and Christina and Raphael wrapped intimately together. Yes, what illusions was I still holding about Christina? It had been nine years. She had punished me countless times with similar methods, always citing failed assessments. This was the tenth time I witnessed her ‘marry’ herself off to Raphael. Everyone mocked me, saying all I had was my floristry skill; my background and looks were nothing next to Christina’s.

In the past, whenever I faced these rumors, she would always stand in front of me, scolding the gossipers, then turn, lean down, cup my face, and console me: “Ethan, when I got together with you, I knew you were the one. I don’t care about your background; your talent is all I value.” Her constant reassurances made me fall for her again and again. But after three years in prison, I finally understood that rumors don’t just appear out of nowhere. It was Christina herself who repeatedly humiliated me and turned me into Ashworth’s biggest joke, slowly eroding all the passion I had for this relationship. The crowd finally dispersed, but the excitement in Christina’s eyes hadn’t completely faded. When her gaze landed on me, it dimmed considerably. “Are you angry about earlier? All the flowers in my garden died that year, and I still haven’t gotten over it. Come back and explain it to me properly.” She said, feigning shyness, her hands casually resting on my shoulders. This was her usual way of flirting. I felt no stirring. In fact, she reminded me. I also wanted to uncover the truth behind my innocent three-year imprisonment, especially since those flowers withering overnight had absolutely nothing to do with me. Back at the mansion, all the staff seemed to have received special instructions. Their attitude towards me was no longer disdainful like three years ago, but overly solicitous and attentive. Massages, fresh clothes, a lavish dinner—everything was arranged for me. “Well? Ethan, are you satisfied? Those three years weren’t just hard for you; waiting for you was tough for me too~” Christina looked at me eagerly, wearing a skimpy swimsuit. “If you thought I’d have a tough time, why did you send me to prison?” I took the opportunity to ask, genuinely confused. “The day after we argued, all the flowers in my garden died. You know how much I loved those flowers. How could I not doubt your sincerity after you did something like that?” “I told you many times, I didn’t do it!” “You still won’t admit it. Raphael was right; you were only with me for the money! That’s why you weren’t sincere with me!” As she said this, the anger and contempt in Christina’s eyes were almost overflowing. I knew that look all too well. In her mind, she would never believe my words. But she’d believe every word Raphael said, no matter how absurd, but never mine. “Since you’re still unrepentant, then our engagement will be postponed indefinitely. The assessment continues!” Christina indignantly wrapped a towel around herself, one corner sweeping sharply across my face. With the stinging pain on my cheek, I stood frozen, like I’d swallowed a fishbone. My throat felt raw and bloody, my every breath tasted of iron. I opened my mouth but couldn’t manage a single word. I wanted to tell Christina that our engagement should have been called off long ago, that I no longer wanted to marry her. I’d find the truth, then I’d leave. After staring blankly by the pool for several hours, I dragged my tired body back to my room, only to find the master bedroom locked. I asked Brenda, the housekeeper, but she just gave me a cold stare. “Ms. Christina said you can’t sleep in the master bedroom tonight. Your things have been moved to the storage room.” Brenda gestured towards a tiny storage room, barely big enough to turn around in, then turned and gave me a sneering, contemptuous look. She seemed to be waiting to see my reaction to her humiliation. I curved my lips, letting out a self-deprecating laugh. “Serving Christina must feel great, huh? You even get to play with me, her ‘dog,’ now and then!” Brenda quickly feigned a look of fear and made a hollow excuse, “Oh, no, sir, I wouldn’t dare.”

But I had only taken two steps when I heard her and the other staff laughing. Looking at the bed in the storage room, barely two feet wide, I clutched my head, overwhelmed, trying my best to suppress the surging emotions within me. Perhaps triggered by my terrible mood, an old injury from prison flared up. My entire lower body suddenly went numb. I dragged my heavy frame, painfully crawling to the door, yelling for help outside. “Help! Can someone please get me my medication!” I used all my strength, banging on the door and screaming desperately. No one responded. It wasn’t until half an hour later that Christina’s voice, laced with amusement, drifted up. “Ethan, do you think acting pitiful like this will make me forgive you sooner?” “Raphael, look at him. If you had been more like him back then, maybe we wouldn’t have broken up.” Christina gently opened the door, peered through the crack, looking down at me playfully, then coyly nudged the man beside her with her finger. “Christina, my leg injury flared up. Please send me…” I ignored their mockery, enduring the intense pain as I looked at Christina with pleading eyes. But before I could finish, Raphael cut me off. He kicked me on the floor, laughing loudly. “I’m not going to be a lapdog.” “Alright, let’s stop looking at the chihuahua. Christina, didn’t you want me to come back with you to get that expensive custom-made sexy lingerie? Let’s not waste any more time!” Hearing this, Christina’s smug expression froze. After a moment, she looked at me with a slightly apologetic gaze. “Uh… Ethan, don’t misunderstand. I just booked a private photoshoot, and since we argued, I just asked Raphael to come with me.” “We… there’s nothing going on. You… you should rest well. Don’t stay on the cold floor.” Christina’s explanation was weak and unconvincing… but I no longer had the energy to care. When I tried to raise my head again, reaching out to Christina for help, she abruptly shut the door, almost catching my hand. I lay on the floor, wailing in desperate pain, only hearing Christina’s coy, chiding voice fading into the distance. The next time I woke, I was in a hospital. “You’re awake?” Christina’s slightly anxious voice actually reached my ears. “Why didn’t you make it clear yesterday? Brenda said you called for help for a long time.” Before I could reply, Christina continued, feigning urgent concern. “Didn’t you tell Brenda to ignore me?” I looked at her coldly. “I told her to just give you a small punishment, not to let you die! Don’t worry, I’ve fired Brenda. Is that enough?” She angrily picked up her phone, quickly typed a few words, then looked at me with an imperious expression. As if any emotion from me was now my fault. She always played dumb, never realizing that the one who constantly hurt me was always herself. I closed my eyes in despair, not saying another word. Just then, Christina’s phone rang, and her voice immediately reverted to its sweetest tone. “Okay, tonight we won’t go home until we’re smashed. Wait for me at our usual spot.” “The doctor said you’re fine. You rest well. I’ll come back to see you later.” After hanging up, she hastily grabbed her bag and left, leaving me with only her retreating back. Because it was an old injury, the doctor gave me the usual specialized medication, and the immediate effect was significant.

I could move freely now, truly no different from a normal person. But when I was discharged, the doctor looked worried. “Mr. Ethan, you need this surgery soon. The injury has affected the foundation. If you delay it further, it will spread to your limbs, and potentially… full paralysis.” Even though the prison doctor had told me similar things, hearing the words “full paralysis” again still left me stunned for a long time. Full paralysis… what a devastating outcome for a top florist… Christina, all this is thanks to you. Are you satisfied? I sat blankly on the sofa, looking at the follow-up recommendations on my medical record, suddenly feeling utterly pointless. I wiped away a tear, booked the earliest flight to France, departing tomorrow afternoon at three. Just then, my phone rang. The words ‘My Love’ on the screen flashed, stinging my eyes. I didn’t answer. After the tenth call, I still couldn’t resist hitting the answer button. Christina’s sobbing voice came through the phone. “Ethan, I’m drunk. Please come pick me up. I’m so sorry for everything lately. I know I was wrong.” “Just come get me and take me home. You can do anything you want. We’ll be good together from now on, okay?” Christina’s sobs grew more pitiful, almost breaking down. Hearing her fragile state, my heart still gave an involuntary tug. Almost as soon as I hung up, I rushed to the garage. By the time I regained my senses, I had already floored the accelerator. I told myself, this is the last time. Let it be… a farewell. Inside the decadent club, laughter of indulgence filled the air. I was wearing a stuffy old suit, completely out of place in the environment. Ignoring the cold, mocking stares, I gasped for breath and rushed towards the VIP room at the end of the corridor. Peeking through the crack in the door, I saw Christina in a sexy, low-back dress, dancing intimately with Raphael. As the music entered a more intimate rhythm, they embraced and kissed, Christina clearly enjoying herself, lost in the moment. “Hey, Ethan, you made it!” Others in the room noticed me, and the music abruptly stopped. Christina looked at me, her expression calm, even a little smug. “Ethan, I knew you’d come. These guys didn’t believe me, insisting I call you.” “Don’t misunderstand, I just lost a game earlier and was doing a dare.” Almost simultaneously, deafening laughter erupted in the room. Raphael looked at my embarrassment, a mischievous, provocative thought sparking in his mind. “Since you’re here, why don’t you join us? Let me introduce you to some of your old friends.” As I stood there confused, three burly men emerged from another room in the VIP suite. Recognizing their faces, I started trembling uncontrollably, a cold sweat instantly breaking out on my back. “Remember them? You should be quite familiar, right?” Raphael said with a smile. I wanted to ask him what he meant, but my throat felt filled with lead; I couldn’t make a sound. “Ethan, Raphael said you two had some past grievances. Why don’t you take this opportunity to settle things here?” “Just apologize to them sincerely. Then this matter will be resolved, right, Raphael?” Seeing my lack of response, Christina feigned trying to mediate. “Bullshit feud! It was one-sided abuse!” I couldn’t hold back anymore. Anger finally triumphed over fear, and I retorted sharply.

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The SATs were over when someone found a love letter Stephen Hayes had written to me. Everyone started chanting, asking if I’d say yes. Young and shy, I was too embarrassed to admit it, missing the dejection in his eyes. Years later, he used me as inspiration for a coming-of-age movie that swept the film awards. When reporters asked if he regretted not being more proactive back then, Stephen Hayes wept on camera, hoping to find me through the media. Suddenly, the whole city was buzzing. But by then, I was no longer able to respond… Reborn, back to that summer when I was eighteen. I snatched up the love letter first and walked straight up to him: “Stephen, do you want to be with me?” He lowered his eyes, a cold smile playing on his lips. “No.” As his words hung in the air, a suffocating awkwardness filled the room. Some people tried to comfort me, others were just enjoying the spectacle. I ran a hand through my hair, taking two steps back with a self-deprecating laugh. “Oh, I see. Alright then.” The whispers around me threatened to drown me: “Who is she? So bold!” “I think she’s from Class 3? I heard she got into our school on an athletic scholarship. Otherwise, with her grades…” “So where does she get the confidence to confess to Stephen? He’s a top student, accepted to Harvard University…” “Who knows. Aren’t all jocks like that? Reckless airheads…” I squeezed my palm, forcing a smile to keep myself from looking too awkward. “It was just a dare. Don’t take it seriously.” Just as I was about to turn and leave, Stephen suddenly spoke. “That letter… you shouldn’t take it seriously either.” In my previous life, I didn’t take it seriously either. That day, after the graduation ceremony, everyone was eagerly clearing out their desks and lockers. Papers and textbooks cascaded out of drawers with a whoosh, fluttering through the air between the school buildings. It was then that Stephen’s love letter fell out of my drawer. The guys who usually treated me like one of them snatched the letter, yelling: “Holy crap! Someone wrote a love letter to Farmar Davies?!” Stephen’s exam papers were always passed around and studied by the entire grade. My name was written on the envelope in elegant, strong handwriting. It wasn’t hard to recognize the sender. “There are words in here I don’t even know! Am I illiterate?” “Who knew the school’s genius would go for a jock like her — Ouch! Not the face!” I blushed furiously, grabbed the letter back, and shoved it directly into my pocket. “Stop messing around. How could he ever be interested in me?” My friends laughed, asking if I had feelings for him. Back then, my teenage crushes were secrets kept in a diary. In my friends’ eyes, I was always the outgoing tomboy. My hidden feelings were suddenly exposed, and instead of joy at receiving the letter, shame was the first thing I felt… At that time, I blurted out: “No way! We’re not even in the same league.” Too embarrassed to admit it, I completely missed the dejected figure in the corner. The next time I saw him was ten years later, live on a awards show. Stephen Hayes cried on camera during a media interview. I stared at the hospital room ceiling, my eyelids growing heavy. I heard the host ask, “What kind of presence is the female lead’s inspiration to Director Stephen Hayes…” Unfortunately, I didn’t get to hear the answer… When I opened my eyes again, it was back to that summer when I was eighteen. This time, I walked towards him, but he took a step back. “No, I don’t think so.” What came next was even more humiliating than a gentle rejection… “Sorry, I put it in the wrong drawer.” The room fell silent, as if the world had pressed pause. “Oh, well, you can have it back then.” I heard myself force myself to speak calmly. Then I fumbled in my pocket for the crumpled letter, suddenly at a loss. “Uh, I accidentally wrinkled it…” I desperately tried to smooth the letter flat— A button came out of my pocket and rolled to Stephen’s feet. My heart felt like it was being squeezed tight. Stephen looked down at his collar. The second button was missing, as if it had been forcefully torn off. At that moment, the mocking gazes from everyone felt silently directed at me. It was indeed Stephen’s button. I had spent a month bringing water to the basketball team, begging his teammates, just to get my hands on it. It was easy for guys to snag a button while playing basketball, without drawing attention. Now, my carefully hidden secret was exposed, like the punchline of a cruel joke. I bent down to pick up the button, but it seemed to grow legs, rolling all the way into the depths of a nearby flower bed. I didn’t care how prickly the freshly trimmed branches were, reaching out to get it— A pair of sneakers stopped in front of me. “Don’t bother looking, I don’t want it.” I stood up, wiping the sweat from my face. “Oh, alright.” After Stephen left, I also pretended nothing had happened and left. Then I found an empty classroom and finally couldn’t hold it in, bursting into tears. It shouldn’t be like this… Why is it completely different from what I imagined? I had caught up with time, only to be harshly pushed away by the person within that time.

I originally didn’t want to go to the graduation party that night. Because I knew Stephen would definitely be there. After all, he was the top student in our graduating class, and a good person, so everyone had invited him. My friends started teasing, saying if I didn’t go, it meant I was giving up, giving in. They even said if I didn’t go, they’d go confront Stephen and demand an explanation, backing me up no matter what. I was too proud to let that happen, so I collected myself and headed out. The graduation party was scheduled at an upscale karaoke bar near the school. When I arrived, someone was already singing. I quickly scanned the room but didn’t see Stephen. I immediately breathed a sigh of relief. Since I hadn’t figured out how to face him, I found a corner to sit in. A moment later, someone sat next to me. I didn’t think much of it until Ramon Garcia nudged me, signaling me to look back. That’s when I noticed the excessively beautiful girl sitting next to me, who also looked familiar. Wasn’t she the prettiest girl from the next class? I asked, “Can I help you?” She lowered her head, her long lashes trembling slightly, and spoke timidly. “Um… about this morning, I wanted to apologize.” I was confused: What? “That letter, I think… it was probably meant for me.” “My friend said Stephen asked her this morning where my classroom was.” “My friend gets her left and right mixed up and pointed to your classroom by mistake. She later realized that you and I both happened to be in the fourth row, third column of our respective classrooms…” “I’m really sorry for the misunderstanding. I apologize on his behalf!” I set down my iced soda and spoke calmly. “Are you sure?” She probably hadn’t expected me to ask back and immediately flushed crimson. “Of course! My friend wouldn’t lie to me, and…” She shyly lowered her head, her fingers fiddling with the hem of her skirt on her knee. “Stephen even specifically asked me about college applications before the SATs…” I said, “I see. I understand.” The air conditioning in the room was too cold, and the food was awful. I wanted to leave. “Well, I wish you two the best.” With that, I picked up my jacket from the sofa and stood up to leave. Someone pushed the door open just then, and I almost walked right into them. “Woah! Who’s that?!” Stephen Hayes and his friends had just walked in. I paused slightly, and then I heard a soft voice from behind me. “Stephen, what took you so long?” Oh, she was calling someone else. Stephen’s gaze fell on me, tinged with a hint of inquiry. I turned my head away, moving past them. I heard someone talking to Stephen behind me, mentioning my name. He immediately cut them off with a cold voice. “Don’t mention her.” His tone was impatient. I quickened my pace, leaving everything behind. The summer of June was like a steamer. Stepping out of the karaoke bar, a wave of heat hit me, but I was breaking out in a cold sweat. A sharp pain shot through my abdomen, and my lower belly felt heavy. …Damn, I’d completely forgotten about that since I was reborn. My period was coming. I found a convenience store nearby, bought a heat pack, and stuck it on my stomach. While I was at it, I bought some chicken nuggets. Living two lives, the pain of my period still plagued me. I first met Stephen because I suddenly got my period during P.E. class and got my athletic shorts dirty. My friends usually treated me like one of the guys, so no one noticed my embarrassment. Only he, from the next class, noticed. He took off his jacket and covered my thighs. “Here, hide it for now.” Seeing my face turn pale and me unable to stand steadily from the pain, he immediately left the basketball court and carried me to the school nurse’s office. After that incident, I started to notice him. I regretted not being more honest back then. I never thought that given a second chance, when I pursued him, he would deny anything happened. My gaze vacant, I stared at the ground, thinking for a long time. Perhaps his love letter wasn’t for me at all.

I was lost in thought when I looked down and jumped in surprise. When did I order so many chicken nuggets?! The box was overflowing, completely full. I stopped the guy at the counter, who was about to ring me up. “Wait a minute! I didn’t order this much, did I?” He pressed down on his cap and muttered, “It’s fine, just eat.” I can’t just accept this for nothing… No, something was definitely off. A thousand things felt wrong. Before he knew it, I reached out and flipped his cap off. “It’s you?!” Stockton Miller, Stephen’s rival on the basketball court, a friend I’d met while bringing water to the team. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “What is this supposed to be?” Stockton grabbed his cap back, awkwardly putting it on. He mumbled, “I heard about what happened earlier today…” “Stop right there!” I paid for the extra food. “Don’t do this. I told you it was just a dare.” He pressed down his curly hair that escaped from under his cap. “It’s better if it’s fake. I was actually pretty happy…” His voice was too low at the end; I couldn’t hear him at all. After eating my fill, I was browsing the shelves for tampons. Stockton kept rearranging the shelves next to me. Ten minutes later, I snapped, “How long are you going to keep rearranging?” “Huh?” He suddenly realized he’d been lingering in the women’s hygiene aisle for ages, and his face immediately flushed crimson. Stockton suddenly stood in front of me and asked in a low voice, “How about you go out with me?” “Are you crazy?” His expression became unusually serious. “I’m not kidding. I like girls with your personality.” I took two steps back. “I’m not kidding either. I don’t like how dark you are.” He glanced at his tanned arms, looking a little troubled. “Then I’ll get fairer. I can also—” The bell above the door chimed. “Go help the customer.” After sending him away, I continued to bend down, looking for my usual pads. A hand reached over my head, palm open. “Is it this one?” Yes, it was my usual brand. Luckily, it was the last pack left on the shelf. “Yes, that’s it. Thank you.” I instinctively reached out to take it, but the person pulled their hand back. I looked up, meeting a pair of deep-set eyes. Stephen Hayes stood behind me, very close. He turned and handed the last pack to the girl behind him. “Stephen, I can buy it myself… Farmar Davies, you’re here too?” Oh, he was getting it for someone else. A strange pang of bitterness welled up in my chest, my throat suddenly dry and constricted. Someone patted my shoulder. Stockton casually put his arm around me. “Let’s go. My shift’s over.” Stephen looked at the person behind me, his gaze lingering on Stockton’s hand on my shoulder. His expression darkened slightly, but he didn’t say anything more. Torian Stone tugged on his sleeve and said softly, “See? She has a boyfriend. So don’t worry about this morning’s misunderstanding—” “Boyfriend?” Stephen interrupted. Upon hearing that, Stockton rested his chin on my shoulder, looking like he was leaning half his body weight on me. “You can have a girlfriend, but I can’t?” He glanced at the girl standing in front of Stephen and warned her coldly, “Torian! Keep your boyfriend in line, and don’t cause trouble.” I suddenly stopped short. “Wait.” I looked at Stockton. “What did you just say?” Stockton replied, “I told her not to cause trouble.” No, not that. I stared fixedly at the girl close to Stephen, asking word by word: “You called her… what?” Stockton realized. “Oh, you mean Torian? She’s my neighbor, we’ve known each other for a long time.” Stephen and Torian left quickly. I leaned against the shelf, my head felt heavy, my legs a little weak. It felt like a huge hole had ripped open in my chest. The reason I was so sure Stephen’s movie was based on me… Was because during that interview, Stephen cried silently on camera, and finally revealed the name of the female lead’s inspiration. The subtitle displayed: Farmar. Anyone who knew us would immediately think of me. During the toughest times in my previous life, I watched Stephen’s movie countless times from my hospital bed, including every behind-the-scenes clip, every roadshow, and every interview with the cast and crew. The female lead, Maya, was by then a globally renowned A-list actress, and she starred without pay, reportedly to repay a favor. At twenty-eight, she played an eighteen-year-old girl without any awkwardness, even looking far prettier than my eighteen-year-old self. And Maya’s former stage name before her debut was the same as mine.

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I was touching up my lipstick when Nathan walked into the private suite of our engagement party, bringing that financially struggling college classmate with him. “Chloe accidentally got her dress dirty. Could you lend her yours for a bit?” He said, and after I froze for a few seconds, he added, “Everyone knows you’re the star today. It doesn’t matter what you wear.” A girl stood by the door, her canvas shoes worn white from washing, timidly saying hello. Tara stepped in front of me. “This is Summer’s engagement party! She went to thirty stores to find this dress!” Nathan glanced at me. It had been five years. Every time he looked at me with that gaze, I’d give in. I gently pushed Tara back, slowly closing my lipstick cap. “Let her wear it.” Nathan patted my head, satisfied. “I knew you’d be the most understanding. On our wedding day, I’ll buy you the best gown.” Chloe changed into my engagement dress. Nathan knelt down to adjust her hem. He whispered to Chloe, “You look beautiful.” I’d seen that gesture before. During our wedding photo shoot, the photographer asked him to do it, and he said it was “too cheesy.” I slipped off my engagement ring. This time, I wasn’t going to be “understanding” anymore. “She does look beautiful,” Nathan’s aunt said from a nearby table, taking Chloe’s hand and looking her up and down. Chloe lowered her head, a slight smile on her lips. Before she could speak, Nathan chimed in from beside her. “Chloe is a classmate of mine. Her family isn’t well-off. She got her dress dirty, and Summer felt bad for her, so she offered her own dress.” His aunt nodded, then cast a glance at me. “Then why is Summer dressed like that today? It’s her engagement party, she looks a bit plain.” “She doesn’t care about these things,” Nathan answered for me, casually putting an arm around my shoulder. “Summer is the most generous person.” As his hand landed, I took half a step back, and his arm fell short. “What’s wrong?” I lowered my eyes. “Nothing.” Tara grabbed my arm from behind, pulling me to the corner of the hallway. “Are you just going to let it go?” “What else can I do?” “You go out there and tell everyone that’s your dress, and that woman isn’t his fiancée—you are!” I looked at her reddened eyes. “Tara, you’re more upset than I am.” “How can I not be upset?” Tara’s voice was hoarse. “Do you know what the people at his table were saying just now?” She pulled out her phone and played a video. It was taken by Nathan’s college classmates. In the video, Chloe, wearing my dress, stood to Nathan’s right, his hand resting on her lower back. Someone cheered, “So beautiful!” Chloe lowered her head, blushing. She didn’t deny it. Nathan didn’t deny it either, just smiled and waved his hand. Below the video was a comment: “Nathan’s fiancée is so pure.” Thirty-plus likes, no one objected. I swallowed the bitterness in my heart, turned off the video, and handed the phone back to Tara. A new round of laughter erupted from the ballroom. Chloe was being pulled around for toasts, handling herself gracefully, leaning slightly as she held her glass. I had taught her that posture. Last month, she said she was nervous about attending a formal event for the first time and asked me how to hold a glass. I practiced with her all afternoon. “Could you call me a ride, Tara?” “You’re not going back in?” “There’s nothing left to go in for.” I went back to the guest book table and placed my ring beside the guestbook. A thin layer of dust covered the table, and the ring made a soft clink as it landed. My phone lit up. It was Nathan’s Ins post. “Thanks to everyone for coming tonight.” He attached three photos. One was a panoramic view of the ballroom, one was him toasting with friends, and the last one… Chloe, wearing my dress, smiling with crescent eyes. He tagged Chloe. The caption read: “Thanks, Chloe, for helping entertain guests. You worked hard.” The entire post didn’t mention me. Not even my name. I turned off the screen. When I reached the other side of the road, the lights of the ballroom were still bright. Even from far away, I could faintly hear music and laughter. Before getting into the car, I looked back once. Nathan stood on the steps of the hotel entrance, looking down at his phone. Chloe walked out from behind him and gently draped a jacket over his shoulders. He raised a hand to adjust his collar. The movement was natural.

“Summer, you left your ring at the guest book table.” Nathan’s call came at 2 AM, his voice unhurried. “I know.” “I’ve kept it for you. I’ll put it on you tomorrow.” He paused, then softened his tone. “I know I put you in a tough spot today. Chloe’s dress getting dirty really was an accident, and everyone saw how kind you were to lend her yours.” “Nathan, let’s break up.” Silence for three seconds on the other end. Then he chuckled softly. “Summer, I know you were hurt today, but breaking up? Is it really that serious?” “I’m serious.” “You always say we should break up when you’re upset.” He lowered his voice, with his usual patience. “Alright, when you’ve cooled off, call me. I’ll come pick you up.” “Nathan…” “Summer, be a good girl. Tomorrow, I’ll take you to that Japanese restaurant you wanted to try last time.” I didn’t continue speaking. After a few seconds of silence, his voice deepened. “Summer, it’s been five years. When will you ever really be able to leave me?” His words were soft, but I couldn’t answer. He truly didn’t believe it, didn’t believe I would leave. I hung up. Tara came out of the kitchen with a glass of water and sat opposite me. “What did he say?” “He said he’s coming to pick me up.” “Are you going?” “No.” She started to say something, then saw my expression and swallowed it back. I stared at my phone screen. At the top of the call log was his name, saved five years ago as “Nathan,” with a little sun emoji next to it. We had just started dating then. He waited for me by the college gate, holding a box of fried chicken. The November wind was cold, and the steam from the chicken scattered several times. He said, “Your roommate told me you take the long way every day just to pass a fried chicken place.” I said, “It’s too expensive, $10 a piece.” He laughed and pressed it into my hand. “From now on, tell me whatever you want to eat, whether it’s $10 or $100.” His eyes were so bright back then, they made me feel safe. Tara suddenly spoke. “Do you remember when he started changing?” I thought for a long time. “I don’t.” Maybe it was the first day Chloe appeared, her eyes red, saying she couldn’t afford her tuition. Maybe it was the first time he told me to “go easy on her.” The change was too slow. Just a little bit less each day, until I looked back, and there was nothing left. Tara tucked the blanket around me. “Don’t go back. Just stay here.” “Okay.” At 3 AM, another call came from him. The screen lit up for three seconds, then went dark. He didn’t call again. Because in his world, I’d be mad for one night, and when the sun rose, I’d go home willingly. Just like every time before. I pressed ignore on that call. This was the first time in five years.

“Tara, let me in.” The next evening, Nathan stood at Tara’s doorstep, holding a white paper bag. Tara blocked the door. “She doesn’t want to see you.” “I know she’s angry.” He smiled. “Just let me in to say a couple of words, then I’ll leave.” “Say what? That you didn’t even mention her name in your Ins post?” Nathan’s smile faltered for a moment. “Tara, this is between Summer and me.” “You two have already broken up. Don’t bother Summer anymore.” I walked to the door and pressed down on Tara’s arm. “Tara, let him in. I’ll talk to him face-to-face.” Tara stepped aside, her gaze cold as she looked Nathan up and down. He changed his shoes and placed the paper bag on the table. It was a box of cake. “Your favorite chestnut cake. I didn’t get a chance to give it to you yesterday.” I didn’t open it. He sat opposite me. “Summer, what exactly do you want me to do?” “I told you, break up.” His brows furrowed. “You’re breaking up over a dress?” “It’s not about a dress.” “Then what is it about?” He clasped his hands on the table, a posture identical to every time I’d thrown a fit before, cooperative and patient, waiting for me to finish speaking. “Last year, for your birthday, I booked a restaurant two months in advance. Before we left, Chloe called saying she had a stomachache, so you drove to her place first.” “She was alone then. What if something happened?” “You got there and found out she’d just eaten too much, and then you spent the whole evening watching TV with her, while I waited alone at the restaurant until closing time.” He paused. “Didn’t I apologize for that? I even bought you a necklace.” “You bought her the same necklace, didn’t you?” “She was just feeling down at the time…” “She’s always feeling down.” My voice was low, yet strangely steady. “When is she not feeling down?” Nathan fell silent. “Last month, on your business trip, you made me take a taxi to the airport by myself. Because you had to drive Chloe to move into her new apartment.” He opened his mouth. “She had a lot of bags…” “You gave her the special blanket from our home. The one my mom sent from back home.” “That one was old. I’ll buy you a new one.” “That was my blanket! My mom spent a week knitting it with her reading glasses on, and she packed it in three layers when she sent it, afraid the stitches would get damaged on the way.” The room grew quiet. Tara stood by the kitchen door, her knuckles white. I didn’t cry. Before, I would cry, my eyes red, asking him why, then choosing to forgive him after he said, “I was wrong.” But this time, I was just so tired. “Summer.” Nathan’s voice deepened, tinged with subtle disappointment. “I always thought you were different from them.” “Them?” “Those who fuss over every little thing.” He frowned, looking at me earnestly. “I thought you understood me. Chloe has no one else to rely on. You have me, you have your family, you lack nothing… What’s wrong with me taking care of her a little more?” He spoke sincerely, every word from the heart. “You have everything, can’t you just let someone who has nothing have a little something?” I looked at him. For a long time. There was even an expectation in his eyes, expecting me to nod as usual, to say yes. But among the things I had, one was called Nathan. He was slowly moving himself, piece by piece, to someone else, yet he asked me why I felt like something was missing. “Nathan, you’re right. I have everything.” He visibly relaxed. “So you, I can do without too.” The smile vanished from his face. “Summer.” “You weren’t like this before.” I didn’t answer. He stood up, pulled open the door, and walked out. My gaze fell on the cake box on the table. Chestnut cake. He didn’t remember anymore. My favorite flavor had changed since last year.

The wedding dress in the mirror suited me well. My mom from behind me adjusted my veil, the wrinkles around her eyes deepening with her smile. “When will Nathan be here? I haven’t seen him in over half a year.” I looked at my phone screen. Ten minutes ago, Nathan had replied to my message. “Chloe lost her graduation thesis data and is crying in her advisor’s office. I need to go help her sort it out.” “You go ahead and try on the dress. Explain it nicely to your mom. She’s always been fond of me, she’ll definitely understand. Tonight, I’ve booked your mom’s favorite upscale restaurant to make it up to her.” My mom had just had minor heart surgery last month, so I hadn’t told her about Nathan and me. I turned off the screen and turned around. “Mom, he has an urgent company meeting and can’t make it.” My mom paused, then smiled and patted my hand. “Work is important. It’s good for a man to be ambitious. You just need to look good in the dress. Come, let Mom take more pictures of you.” Click. In the photo, I was wearing a white wedding dress, smiling, but there was no light in my eyes. After putting her on the train back home, I went to Tara’s place. Sitting on the couch, I called the wedding planner. “Hello, I’d like to cancel my reservation for the Clear Lake Chapel.” The person on the other end paused. “Ms. Smith, that venue is booked eight months in advance, and the $12,000 deposit is non-refundable. Are you sure?” “Yes, I’m sure.” “You came here over a dozen times before, always so meticulous. Our designer said you put so much thought into it…” “Please cancel it. Thank you.” I hung up. Tara sat at the other end of the couch. “Are you really sure?” “Yes.” That chapel was forty miles outside the city. There was no direct subway; you had to transfer two buses and then walk for twenty minutes. I chose it because there was a lake nearby. Five years ago, the first time Nathan took me out, it was to that lake. He spent an entire afternoon taking photos of me by the lake. He said, “This is our secret spot.” The decoration plan was something I had worked through, draft by draft, with the designer. For the table flowers, I chose white magnolias… his mom liked simple elegance. The song played during the ceremony was the one we heard at a coffee shop on our first date. I drew the seating chart myself, coloring it with markers: blue for his guests, pink for mine. His college roommate had a fear of heights, so I specifically arranged a window seat for him on the first floor. Nathan had never asked about any of these details. “Summer, if you want to cry, just cry,” Tara said. I shook my head. I really felt like I couldn’t cry anymore. Tara received a call from Nathan while she was revising a proposal at work. “Summer’s phone is off. Could you tell her something for me?” Tara put down her pen. “What is it?” “Chloe needs to take her graduation photos next month and wants to find a unique location.” His tone was casual, as if discussing a minor chore. “I remembered the chapel Summer booked. The lakeside view is nice. Could she put in a good word for me to borrow it for a day?” Tara gripped her phone, her knuckles slowly tightening. “Nathan. That venue has already been canceled…”

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My cousin, Ivy, is thirty, but every holiday season, she’s still made to perform for our older relatives in ridiculous costumes. I’ve told Ivy more than once, “You’re thirty, you’re an adult. You don’t have to act like a kid and do everything the elders say.” But every time, Ivy never dared to defy them. Until this year, when she prepared another monkey costume for a performance. I originally planned to just let it go. But then she directly put the monkey costume on my six-year-old daughter, Lily. “This year, it’s our little Lily’s turn to show respect to the elders!” I stared, aghast, at my cousin, who was acting like a minion serving her masters by dragging others down, and at all the smug-faced elders in the room. A wave of sorrow and anger washed over me. Without hesitation, I ripped the monkey costume off Lily, took her hand, and walked out. “A room full of people, hundreds of years old combined, and you still love watching others act like monkeys.” “Whoever wants to play the monkey can do it. But my daughter and I are done with it.”

The faces of everyone in the room immediately darkened. My uncle, Michael, slammed his hand on the table. “What kind of attitude is that?! It’s the holidays, you have no respect!” I looked at him, speaking calmly and clearly, “If your ‘respect’ means preying on children for your amusement, then I’m sorry, but I have my own rules.” With that, I led Lily out the door. Lily’s small hand was clenched tightly in mine; I could feel her unease. Since my parents passed away, I rarely brought Lily home for the holidays. Maintaining superficial contact all these years was purely out of respect for my parents, to save them face. And also to inquire about Lily’s kindergarten enrollment. But if they thought they could use that to control me, they were gravely mistaken. Just as we reached the doorstep, Ivy ran after us. She grabbed my arm. “Sarah, don’t be like this. It’s the holidays, let’s not make everyone unhappy.” Her tone was gentle, but I could see calculation in her eyes. I knew her too well. Thirty years old and still clinging to mommy’s apron strings? All because Uncle Michael promised her an old house, right? “Sarah…” I cut her off directly. “Ivy, if you want that old house, if you want to play dumb and be a ‘filial’ daughter, that’s your business.” “Even if you’re fifty and still haven’t cut the cord, I won’t care. But you’re dragging my six-year-old daughter into this? Are you seriously acting like a minion now, trying to find new victims?” Hearing “cut the cord” and “minion,” Ivy’s face flushed instantly. I couldn’t be bothered to waste any more words on her. I picked up Lily and headed for her car seat in the back. But Ivy quickly followed, her voice rising, sharp and shrill. “What are you trying to prove, acting so high and mighty? You only came back because you’re hoping Uncle Michael will help your daughter get into that elite elementary school, right?! Now you’re pretending to be some independent modern woman!” I buckled Lily into her seat, gently stroked her head, and prepared to drive off. I was truly too lazy to argue with someone so foolish. But Ivy wouldn’t give up. She still clung to my car window, gritting her teeth. “Sarah! For that school spot, I don’t believe you won’t back down!” I glanced at her in the rearview mirror, fighting the urge to roll my eyes. “Family help is just a backup plan. If I really want my daughter to get in, I can just buy her a spot.” “I don’t need to be like you, thirty years old, and can’t fight for anything yourself except acting like a monkey.” Ivy’s face turned from green to white; she was clearly deeply stung. “What’s so great about you?! You just married a good husband, your parents died early and left you an inheritance. You just got lucky with where you were born!” I stepped on the gas, and before the window fully closed, I threw her a final line. “If you can’t stand me, you can go get yourself a better life, then. It’s not too late to try again.” The window closed. In the rearview mirror, Ivy stood frozen. Then she suddenly squatted down, covering her face and weeping. Lily, in the backseat, peered through the window at her aunt getting smaller in the distance. She quietly asked me, “Mommy, Aunt Ivy is crying. Aren’t we going to help her?” I took a deep breath, offering Lily a gentle smile through the rearview mirror. “Honey, she’s not crying because she’s sad. She’s crying because her designated victim was gone. And that victim was supposed to be us.” Lily nodded, seeming to understand and not understand at the same time. “Then, Mommy, we won’t be a designated victim.” “That’s right, we absolutely won’t.” By the time we got home, darkness had completely fallen. My husband was back in his hometown for the holidays, so it was just Lily and me at home. The house felt empty, but free of the fake and ridiculous family drama, which brought me a sense of peace. After tucking Lily into bed, a flurry of abusive messages from relatives popped up on my phone. I scrolled through them emotionlessly, but then a new message caught my eye. It was from Principal Davies of the elite elementary school. “Lily’s Mom, Happy Holidays.” “I’m so sorry to bother you, but I need to inform you about something. Our Lily’s admission assessment wasn’t approved. You might want to look into other schools.” I stared at the screen. It was the evening of New Year’s Day, nine o’clock. The principal of an elementary school personally messaging me during the holidays to reject my daughter’s admission. There’s no such thing as coincidence in this world.

My mind flashed with the smug faces of Uncle Michael and Aunt Brenda, and Ivy’s shouting. So, this was their plan. To use what I cared about most to force me to humble myself. I gave a cold laugh. They had definitely messed with the wrong person. To avoid misdirected retaliation, I politely replied to Principal Davies, “May I ask, specifically, what aspect of Lily’s application wasn’t approved?” He quickly replied, “Lily’s Mom, our elite elementary school values not only a child’s inherent qualities but also places great importance on evaluating the family environment.” “After our background check on your family elders, we found that there might be some disharmony and lack of filial piety within your family. Therefore, overall, it’s deemed not very suitable.” Reading those lines, I almost laughed in anger. It was them, all right, using the excuse of family disharmony. So, “disharmony and lack of filial piety” meant that Lily and I didn’t perform monkey tricks for a bunch of old geezers on New Year’s Day, like Ivy did? Were we supposed to be obedient, act like clowns, and maybe even bow down to them? I took a deep breath and immediately called Ethan. I recounted everything that happened tonight, word for word. On the other end of the line, Ethan’s breathing noticeably deepened. “They’re using Lily’s admission to threaten you?” His voice dropped, but his tone was resolute. “Honey, you don’t have to worry about this. I’ll handle Lily’s admission.” “Elite elementary school, right? Perfect. Our group has a major cooperation project with the city council recently. First thing tomorrow morning, I’ll have my assistant contact the director. “I want to see who dares to block my daughter, Lily’s, admission review when all her paperwork is in order.” My heart settled quite a bit, but I still cautioned, “Don’t be too impulsive. We have the moral high ground, so just follow proper procedures.” “Don’t worry, your husband here is the most reasonable man. But if someone isn’t reasonable, then I’ll make sure they know what they’re up against.” After hanging up, I felt much more at ease. But then, group messages started popping up again. I opened the “Happy Family” SnapChat group, and it was already in an uproar. Ivy was wailing and crying, sending many photos of her torn clothes and scarf. “I know Sarah doesn’t like me, but during the holidays, to lay hands on me in front of a child, how can I bear it…” She was acting so sincerely, crying real tears. Uncle Michael directly tagged me, cursing me for having no upbringing. Aunt Brenda also complained tearfully, demanding I apologize. I looked at the family of drama queens, at their familiar tactics and accusations. I typed out a reply and sent it, “She was clinging to my car window and wouldn’t let go, she ripped her own clothes. What does that have to do with me?” After my reply, the accusations in the group became even more intense. They even started to escalate, cursing my deceased parents for not raising me properly. I clenched my fists, then sent one last reply, “Is your ‘upbringing’ conspiring with outsiders to use a child’s school admission to force a junior to bow down? Fine, then I’ll find some ‘outsiders’ to judge fairly as well.” After sending it, without waiting for their reactions, I directly left the group. Once the world was quiet again, I immediately opened my phone’s photo album and found all those videos accumulated over the years. They were videos of Ivy, over the years, wearing ridiculous floral jackets and various weird costumes, wiggling her butt and making the elders clap and laugh. And also the chat logs from the family group just now. I bundled them all up and sent them to the most popular local news exposé account. With the caption, “Feudal elders force junior to act like a fool every year for ‘filial piety,’ threatening a child’s future if they don’t comply.” “Videos and chat logs as proof, asking for exposure.” I tapped my finger, and it was sent successfully.

The next day, the second day of the holidays. Lily and I woke up naturally, watched TV together, and did crafts. With no fake relatives and no drama, the house was filled with joyous laughter. Around noon, my phone started vibrating like crazy. Notifications from various social media apps rang like mad. I tapped on the notifications and saw a trending topic at the top of Ins’s local feed: “Thirty-Year-Old Daughter Forced to Act Like Monkey for Elders’ Filial Piety” I clicked on it, and the pinned post was the full video and long screenshot of the chat logs from the news exposé account. In the video, Ivy, wearing that ridiculous floral cotton jacket and monkey costume, twisted and contorted amidst the elders’ laughter. Scene after scene, like loud slaps, landed squarely on Ivy and those old folks’ faces. The comment section was even wilder: “It’s 2026, and we still have these feudal relics? Seriously laughable. How empty must a house full of old people be to need to humiliate juniors for validation?” “Sucking the life out of juniors, trampling on their dignity—is that what these people want?” “That woman is also a minion. She’s been kneeling for so long, now she wants to drag others down too, disgusting!” “Am I the only one who noticed the six-year-old girl? If her mom wasn’t tough, she would have been the next one forced to wear the monkey costume!” As the trending topic’s popularity exploded, insiders also started to come forward with information. “This family’s surname is Davies, locally known as a supposedly refined and educated background. But their ancestral home was strictly passed down only to male heirs. The daughter in the video probably wants to fight for the family property so badly it’s driven her crazy.” The netizens went even wilder. “Monkey family,” “patriarchal,” and other keywords were repeatedly mentioned, spreading like a virus. The family’s good name, which they had boasted about for decades in the local area, was completely ruined within a few hours. My phone started being bombarded by unknown numbers. I randomly answered one, and it was Ivy’s hysterical wailing. “Sarah! Are you crazy?! My reputation is utterly ruined because of you, take the video down right now! Hurry!” “Now all the netizens are calling me a joke, saying such awful things, it’s all your fault! All your fault!” I listened to her screaming calmly. Only when she was tired of cursing did I speak, calmly. “Ivy, you wore the outlandish costumes yourself, you agreed to let them film the video yourself, and you willingly performed. What does that have to do with me?” She immediately acted as if she’d been wronged, crying even harder. “But I was forced! You think I wanted to?!” “So, you came to force my daughter?” Without waiting for her to wail again, I hung up. Looking at the torrent of abusive messages flooding my apps—things like calling me an unfilial descendant, saying I’d ruined the family. Some even threatened that my daughter and I would die horrible deaths. My heart remained unmoved. I sent one unified reply, “When you put that monkey costume on my daughter, you should have known this day would come. If you touch my daughter again, I’ll show you what hell on earth truly means.” Then, I blocked every number and account I could. The world was quiet once more. Over the next two days, Lily and I waited for Ethan to come home, enjoying the most peaceful New Year we’d ever had. However, early on the morning of the fourth day of the holidays, Lily and I were woken by a rough banging and smashing sound. I comforted Lily, then peered through the peephole. Uncle Michael and Ivy stood outside, looking furious and menacing. “Sarah, you get your ass out here! You’ve gone too far, you have to take that video down today! Otherwise, I’ll smash this damn door down!” Behind him was a dark mass of relatives. “Sarah! You ungrateful wretch! How can you still hide like a coward after airing such dirty laundry?” Ivy also cried out, “Cousin, how could you ruin me! Are you satisfied now that you’ve ruined the whole family?!” Then she theatrically slumped to the ground. “You take the video down right now, or I’ll die right here at your door!” I watched her exaggerated performance, and the last shred of pity in my heart dissolved. She had been completely assimilated by the elders, willingly becoming part of this rotten system, even trying to drag my daughter into it. But since this was her choice, she shouldn’t blame me for showing no mercy when I dealt with her.

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