Author: Momo Chan

I was once adored by many as the epitome of the perfect teacher, someone idealized like Eleanor. But the very student I was determined to help drugged me, and while I was drifting in and out of consciousness, calling out for my husband, he slipped his hand under my shirt. Afterwards, he shamelessly bragged about it, spreading our intimate video far and wide. “What’s so special about Eleanor? I’ve already had her, and she’s just average.” I fell from grace, from being praised by everyone to being dragged through the mud. Later, my husband divorced me, my parents endured the scorn of others, and I was fired from Jefferson High School. Unable to bear the online harassment, I jumped off the rooftop of the school. When I came back to life, it was the day that boy transferred into our class. 1 Once again, I stood on the podium in my senior year class, wearing a familiar Bohemian dress, my feet in white sandals, exuding grace. I was still that young, beautiful literature teacher. A new transfer student, who was economically disadvantaged, was assigned to our class today, his first day. The moment he walked in, everyone turned to look at him curiously, whispering. “Holy crap, how could someone be so ugly? My excitement just got doused.” “I’m not trying to bully the new guy, but he’s making me physically nauseous. Sorry, not sorry.” He hobbled in, with a noticeable limp on his left foot, his tanned face covered in acne scars, and a large, black mole the size of a nickel beneath his bulbous nose. “Hello everyone, I’m the new transfer student. Please take care of me.” At that moment, he greeted the class with a shy smile, but his gaze was fixed on me. I suddenly stopped breathing. Samuel Brooks—no matter how many lifetimes pass, I can never forget that name, the hatred simmering alongside my memories. In my previous life, I pitied him for being a low-income student, stood up to those who bullied him, bought him new clothes, and taught him how to carry himself with dignity. But on one stormy night, Samuel followed me as I walked home alone. I kindly let him in to escape the rain, only for him to secretly drug my water. I lay on the sofa to rest, groggily calling out for my husband as his trembling hands unbuttoned my shirt. But I lost consciousness, powerless to resist. The next day, I woke up covered in red and purple marks, panic-stricken. I reported it to the police immediately, but he had vanished without a trace. During the days Samuel was missing, I lived in constant fear. Until I saw the high-definition video circulating in every group chat, captioned: “Isn’t she Eleanor? I’ve already had her, and she’s just average.” The woman in the video, being violated, gasping and sobbing for mercy, was me. The internet exploded with discussions, as earlier candid photos of me had gone viral, with netizens praising my “prom queen face,” my “Eleanor aura.” #Prom Queen Teacher Fakes Drunkenness To Seduce Student, unfit to be a teacher. He didn’t step forward to admit what he had done. Instead, he hid in the shadows, sending me an anonymous text: “Mrs. Anderson, now you and I are both in the mud. Be with me, and I’ll treat you well.” In the end, unable to endure the online harassment, I jumped off the Jefferson rooftop, desperate. I was three months pregnant at the time. I had fallen from being revered as Eleanor to plunging into endless torment. But now, as I stood on this three-foot podium again, looking down at the students, I knew the gears of fate were turning. This was my chance to save myself. He lifted his head, speaking in broken English: “The spring flows silently, the tree’s shade reflects the calm. Mrs. Hale, my name is Samuel Brooks, from the spring.” The class erupted in whispers. “Did you say that on purpose or by accident? Do you know our teacher’s name is Shades Hale?” He paused, then looked up at me with a bashful smile. 2 Our eyes met, and I shivered all over, forcing myself to calm down. After all, in this life, he knew nothing, and I could still stop everything from happening. “The new student is here. Who would like to sit with him?” Since he started school late, he was older than his peers, already twenty, and still looked unattractive. The class fell silent; no one wanted to be his desk partner. Just then, Clara Mitchell, the class president, volunteered. “Mrs. Hale, I’m the class president. It’s my duty to unite our classmates. I’ll sit with the new student.” Looking at Clara’s kind and righteous face, so much like my past self, I coldly said, “I heard you had a poor academic foundation before transferring. I’m worried you might hold Clara back. It’s better if you sit alone in the last row.” There were plenty of empty seats without partners in the classroom, but I chose the most biased approach. He was puzzled, seemingly not expecting me to be so cold and even intentionally difficult. Samuel’s lips twitched slightly, murmuring to himself. “How could it be… Mrs. Hale looks so gentle. How could she discriminate against me too?” Every word he spoke sent chills down my spine. After finishing the lesson, I practically fled to the office, my back drenched in cold sweat. I drank a gulp of scalding tea, but felt nothing. My mind raced—should I resign now and avoid all this? Getting this teaching position hadn’t been easy; it took countless nights of studying late into the night. Senior year teachers weren’t allowed to switch classes, and I was responsible for students preparing for college entrance exams. Why should I give everything up because of him? I sat in a daze, my thoughts drifting until it was time to leave. Christopher Lane arrived to pick me up, waiting at the school entrance for half an hour. Seeing me come downstairs, he hurriedly opened the car door, pulling me into his arms. “Sweetheart, you’re not feeling well. Did something happen?” Smelling his warm, familiar scent, I couldn’t hold back my emotions any longer and broke down in tears. My husband and I had a great relationship. In my past life, he divorced me temporarily to protect me from the online harassment, and we moved to another city under new identities. Later, seeing how much pain I was in, he even took a knife to find Samuel, only to have his grandmother shield him. Christopher was then outwitted and fell, never to rise again, in a pool of blood. Facing Christopher’s still-handsome face, I wiped away my tears and managed a smile. “It’s nothing, just not feeling well. Let’s go home.” Christopher, however, was deeply concerned, insisting on taking me to the hospital for a checkup. I couldn’t resist him. An hour later, the rushed blood test results came back—I was pregnant. It was at this moment that I realized I was already carrying Christopher’s child. When he discovered I was pregnant, Christopher joyfully picked me up and spun me around. “Sweetheart, this is amazing! We’re going to have our little baby!” “If it’s a girl, that would be perfect. I’ve always wanted a little Shades, just as beautiful and lovely as you.” I smiled through my tears, silently vowing. This time, I would protect this hard-won happiness. The next day, I went to teach as usual, though my voice was hoarse from the previous day, so I brought a voice amplifier. The sound was loud, drowning out all chaotic emotions. I didn’t look toward that corner but instead focused on teaching peacefully. A few days passed, and everything was calm. Until Thursday afternoon, after I had finished my last class and was heading back to the office, a few female students were supporting Samuel Brooks, blocking my path. He was evidently bullied, reeking of the bathroom, covered in bruises, and his limp even more pronounced. But I knew that this pitiful appearance was just a mask hiding his twisted nature. He was strong, yet never fought back, letting the bullies have their way with him. His fingernails were long, filled with grime, and his left hand was a bloody mess, with a chunk of skin missing from his index finger. The wound was terrifying. “Mrs. Hale, Samuel’s been bullied. His finger got smashed, and a piece of skin came off. What should we do?” The girls in my class were full of righteousness, standing up for him. Samuel looked at me pitifully, his nose scrunching up in pain, making his oily face even more disgusting. “Please help me, Mrs. Hale…” I didn’t want to care and asked the students to take him to the nurse’s office, turning to leave. But the class representative, Emma Parker, urgently called out to me. “Mrs. Hale, I remember you have a first-aid kit in your office. The nurse’s office is too far. Could you bandage him up first?” I stopped, looking at his pleading eyes and the blood still flowing from his finger. Just then, the class bell rang urgently. I suddenly nodded. “Alright, come with me. The rest of you go back to class.” Samuel’s lips curled into a barely noticeable, cunning smile. He followed me to the office, which was empty during class time. I casually opened the first-aid kit, taking out alcohol, tweezers, and gauze. “Sit down. I’ll bandage you up.” At that moment, the wind blew the curtains, causing the seashell wind chime by the window to sway gently. I carefully and gently stopped the bleeding for him. As I looked at him, his face suddenly turned red. “What’s the matter?” I asked. “Mrs. Hale, you… you’re so beautiful.” Samuel’s face flushed as he blurted out the compliment, his eyes suddenly fixated on my collarbone. Taking advantage of his distraction, I smiled and plunged his entire finger into the alcohol bottle. The exposed flesh of his finger, raw and deep enough to see the bone, was firmly submerged in the nearly full medical alcohol. “You need to be good and cooperate with the disinfection, okay?” He was terrified, trying to pull away, his face contorting in pain. “It hurts, Mrs. Hale, it really hurts!” But I continued smiling, gripping his wrist tightly, refusing to let go. The narrow bottle neck almost suctioned his finger inside. Until the alcohol turned red with blood. He bit his lip until it bled, his eyes bulging, staring at me in utter shock. For the first time, I saw clear hatred in his eyes. 3 But what he didn’t know was that in this life, I would be kind and gentle to everyone, but an absolute monster to him. Due to the severity of his injury, the school nurse sent him to the hospital. In the following days, Samuel attended class with his hand wrapped in bandages. He worked hard in literature class, always raising his hand to answer questions, but I ignored him every time. Even when he won first place in the school coding competition, bringing honor to our class, I didn’t say a word. His eyes, once full of hope, gradually grew dim. He finally came to me, asking: “Mrs. Hale, why can’t I earn your approval, no matter how hard I try?” I slowly swiveled in my chair, not even looking at him. If pity and compassion had brought betrayal in the past, then in this life, I didn’t mind being the villain. As long as I could protect myself. “Because you’re not worthy. Some things can’t be changed by effort alone, just like your disgusting heart, which is far uglier than your appearance.” Even now, I felt justified in saying these words. Just a few days ago, on my way home from work, I had caught him torturing a stray cat. When I found the poor kitten, it had already been scalded to death with boiling water. He smiled and said, “That little white cat was so arrogant. It scratched me. How can a cat be more valuable than a person?” At that moment, Samuel looked at me with hatred, his hand clenched tightly under his sleeve. I didn’t care and continued to treat him coldly. Even the head of teaching, Mr. Thompson, noticed and frowned, reminding me: “Mrs. Hale, as a teacher, you must treat all students equally. You shouldn’t be too harsh on any one student, especially those who need more care.” But I didn’t hold back, and right in front of Samuel, I said: “What’s so special about him? He has two hands and two feet and is mentally sound. If I give him special treatment, how is that fair to the other students?” He began to hate me, spreading rumors about my private life, claiming I was having an affair with the principal. But when he saw me in person, he still forced a smile and greeted me. As fall turned to winter, Samuel donned a shabby coat and ripped jeans, standing out from everyone else. I heard that his parents died when he was young, and he was raised by his grandmother, who spoiled him like a treasure. On my twenty-fifth birthday, I received the Outstanding Teacher Award at the city level, a double blessing. I had a great relationship with my students; this was a job I truly loved. Several students pooled their money to buy me a grand bouquet of vibrant flowers, which I accepted with a smile. “Clara, Emma, you two made it into the top ten in the whole grade on the midterms. You’ve always wanted to sit together, right? I didn’t allow it before because I was worried you’d talk too much and neglect your studies. But now, I’m okay with it.” “Lucas, you did well in literature this time. Why not spend a little less time on math and science and memorize more poems? Extra points are nice, aren’t they?” As I was chatting with the students, I noticed an uninvited guest in the crowd. Samuel had also come to give me flowers. Whether by accident or on purpose, he handed me a mangled white rose, the petals bruised and oozing sap. “Mrs. Hale, I saved my allowance for a week to buy this for you. Please don’t dislike it.” He handed the flower to me with hope in his eyes. But I dropped my smile, and in front of all the teachers and students in the office, I pulled out a tissue, picked up the flower, and threw it on the floor, wrinkling my nose in disgust. “Dirty.” Samuel’s lips trembled, but he silently bent down to pick up the flower and walked away. The gloomy look in his eyes sent chills down my spine. But I didn’t turn back because I wasn’t afraid of his hatred. He was used to targeting those weaker than himself while fearing those who were stronger. 4 Christopher Lane had earned a black belt in Taekwondo in his spare time. I had also learned a few moves for self-defense. When I got home, my husband was waiting for me with a large bouquet of blooming roses, his voice soft and tender. “Happy birthday, my dear, my exceptional Mrs. Hale!” Even though I was happy, I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of melancholy. Sure enough, during our candlelit dinner, Christopher mentioned that he had an opportunity to study abroad. “This is an important chance for my career, honey. It’s crucial for my promotion. But it means I won’t be able to take care of you for the next two months,” he sighed. My firm refusal caught him off guard. I knew he wouldn’t believe in something like reincarnation, so I said: “Honey, I had a dream the other day. In it, you left, and someone broke into our home and tortured me. You tried to avenge me with a knife, but were killed instead.” “We lost everything, our family shattered, and the culprit walked away free.” “How could that happen? We live in a society governed by law. Are you feeling a bit off lately?” he asked, worriedly taking my hand. In the end, with my persistent persuasion, Christopher reluctantly decided to stay, giving up the study opportunity out of concern for me. I didn’t want to hold him back from his career, but that stormy night was approaching. The night when Samuel would break into our home, leading to tragedy. Even though I had treated him differently this time, I couldn’t prevent fate’s cruel joke. I clearly remembered it was a Friday. Samuel followed me after school, begging me to let him in to escape the rain. But tonight, Christopher was delayed by traffic and couldn’t get home in time. After several unanswered calls, I grew irritated. Soon, Christopher texted me. “Sweetheart, there’s been an accident due to the rain. The highway is blocked, and I can’t get back. They won’t let us use our phones. Just go to bed without me.” By 10:30 PM, there was no knock on the door. The rain grew heavier, drowning out my troubled thoughts. My previously tense nerves finally relaxed, and I felt a wave of drowsiness, my body sticky with cold sweat. I decided to take a shower and go to bed. The hot water felt soothing against my skin. In the bathroom, my slender figure was reflected in the mirror, my lips pink, my nose delicate, my almond-shaped eyes wide and bright, with long, curled lashes that gave me a touch of allure. I gently stroked my still-flat belly. Christopher always said I was beautiful, and he wasn’t bad-looking either. Our child would surely be a little gem. Lost in thought, I picked up a towel to dry off the water. Suddenly, through the foggy mirror, a shadowy face appeared, hobbling toward me. It was Samuel Brooks! A wave of terror washed over me—how could this be? This wasn’t a hallucination. He had somehow cracked the code to my door. In the past life, when I let him in to escape the rain, he had seen my home’s password. This time, to avoid bad luck, I had changed the lock and even installed a reinforced security door. Only Christopher and I could open it with our fingerprints. Had all my precautions failed to escape the grip of fate? A cold, muddy hand reached out. I gasped, my waist suddenly grabbed tightly, another hand sliding up. “Mrs. Hale, it’s raining outside, and I’m so cold. Could you… hold me?”

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On the day my husband ascended the throne, he granted me the title of Alexandra, the Imperial Consort. He declared that I was the one who held his heart. Yet within the opulent walls of this palace, I was not alone. Zarah Bourbon, Wilma Spencer, and countless other beauties vied for his affection, each one a delicate flower in the garden of his desires. But his heart—his heart was like a durian, spiked and impenetrable, with a different woman perched precariously on every thorn. When James Windsor announced the decree to crown the Chancellor’s daughter as Queen, I was in the palace playing cards with the other concubines. The maids brought the news, and the other three women froze, their eyes fixed on me in disbelief. But I just kept playing, eating snaps like nothing had changed. “What are you all gawking at? It’s the dealer’s turn!” I said with a cheerful smile. Wilma Spencer, clearly distracted, drew a card and played it clumsily. But she couldn’t hold back and finally asked, “Alexandra, are you… alright?” “It’s always been like this. If it weren’t the Chancellor’s daughter, it would have been someone else.” I hesitated for a moment before replying. Under their admiring gazes, I smiled even more brightly, as if I were genuinely happy for James, completely unfazed. Soon, the grand wedding of the Emperor and the new Queen took place. James gave her great honor. The city was adorned, and all the provinces sent congratulatory messages. I gazed at the magnificent Queen Hall, and James’s words from our wedding echoed in my ears: “Alexandra, I will never betray you in this lifetime. Only with you by my side can I truly be happy.” But in the end, he demoted me from queen to consort, allowing another to take the primary position. The new Queen was only sixteen years old. When the concubines paid their respects to her, she ordered everyone to rise, except for me. The young girl, full of youthful vigor, her phoenix hairpin dazzlingly bright, looked at me with disdain: “So, you’re Alexandra Hemming? The King’s first wife?” She emphasized the word “first” heavily, intending to humiliate me. My expression remained unchanged as I lowered my head. “Your Majesty, I dare not presume. It’s just an old, irrelevant matter, not worth your concern.” “It’s good that you know your place. You were merely fortunate to meet the King in his troubled times, and yet you managed to become an Imperial Consort.” She seemed pleased by my submission and continued to speak more freely, “Born into a lowly merchant family, no wonder the King wouldn’t let you raise the Crown Prince. Imagine if he were tainted by your vulgarity!” Her words done, and the room fell silent. My nails dug into my palm, but before I could speak, James entered, fresh from court. He was strikingly handsome, and the young ladies blushed at the sight of him. The new Queen, Wilma Spencer, ran to him, clinging to his arm with a coquettish tone: “Your Majesty, Alexandra was disrespectful to me.” I didn’t look at James, keeping my gaze lowered as I awaited my punishment. The new Queen’s family was powerful and influential. He couldn’t, and wouldn’t, protect me. I felt his gaze linger on me for a long time before I heard him say, “Alexandra was indeed wrong to disrespect the Queen. She will be confined to Windsor Palace for half a month to reflect on her actions.” I accepted the decree with thanks, my forehead hitting the floor so hard it turned red. Rising under the sympathetic gazes of the other concubines, I walked back to Windsor Palace, one step at a time. The palace gates were locked. I dismissed the servants and sat alone on the swing in the courtyard. Gently swinging my feet, I seemed to return to the past. The days when we were newlyweds, full of love and affection. There was a time when James and I shared moments of pure joy, where laughter echoed through the halls and the world seemed ours alone. But time, relentless and unforgiving, slipped through my fingers like grains of sand, and no matter how tightly I tried to hold on, I couldn’t keep him.

Half a month passed in the blink of an eye, and the gates of Windsor Palace finally reopened. James walked in, seeing me reading. He sat down beside me. “Alex…” I ignored him, he forcibly pulled me into his arms, taking the book from my hands. “Look at me.” “Alex, must we be like this? I’ve just ascended the throne, and my position is unstable. This is the time I need the support of the ministers the most. Can’t you endure a little longer for my sake?” James’s voice was filled with frustration, and finally, even a hint of grievance. I looked up at him, my gaze cold. “James, I’ve been enduring ever since you were brought back from Sunningdale and titled King of Lennon.” “I endured when you took those noblewomen as concubines. I endured when you took my newborn child and gave him to Zarah Bourbon to raise. I endured when you married your new wife with her illustrious background and demoted me to consort. What more do you want me to endure?” My questions forced him to release me. The pain in my heart came in waves, and now, all I felt for him was deep disappointment. For ten years, I was bound to him in marriage. In the early days, when our love was a blazing fire, we welcomed our daughter, Anne Windsor, into the world. But as the years passed and he ascended to the throne, the weight of his crown settled between us. In the midst of his newfound power and the establishment of his royal household, our son, Johnny Windsor, was born—a symbol of a love that had once been unbreakable, now strained under the demands of a kingdom. Johnny was only three days old when Zarah suffered a miscarriage shortly after entering the King’s household. Her constant despair displeased her family, so without consulting me, James handed Johnny over to Zarah to raise. My child, whom I had labored over in pain for a day and night, was taken from me while I lay weak and unconscious. Now, he only recognizes Zarah as his mother. When he learned to speak, walk, and call for his mother, I was like a stranger, a mere observer of someone else’s happiness. … I couldn’t bear to think of those painful memories any longer. I pulled away from his embrace, moving far from him. “James, let’s just set each other free. Perhaps then we could both find some happiness.” His eyes reddened as he looked at me. The tension was broken by a timid, childish voice, “Mother, I’m hungry…” It was Anne, who had returned from playing outside. At six years old, she hid behind the curtains, peeking out with wide eyes at James and me, watching us argue. I forced a smile, gently stroking her head. “The egg custard has been simmering in the small kitchen, just waiting for my little foodie. Why don’t you go wash your hands with Nanny first?” She nodded enthusiastically, then hesitated, glancing between James’s stern face and mine. Finally, she tugged at my clothes, “Mother, Father hasn’t visited in a long time. Can you stop arguing, please?” My heart sank, and James’s expression also stiffened. When Anne was born, he wasn’t the King, nor was he the Duke of Lennon. I wasn’t just another consort in his vast harem; I was his only wife. That’s why Anne always called him Father. James softened his expression and hugged Anne. “Be good, Anne. When you grow up, don’t be like your mother—ignorant of what’s proper and ungrateful!” After saying this, he gave me a glance before striding away. “Mother, what did Father mean?” Anne asked, frightened by his harsh tone and shrinking into my arms. “Nothing at all. Tell me, what did you and Nanny do in the Imperial Garden today? Tell me all about it.” I held her close, gently patting her back. Hearing this, she was easily distracted. “Mother, I met a new friend today. He’s amazing; he can fly…”

It seems that what I feared most has come true. When Wilma Spencer heard that James had visited me, she stormed into Windsor Palace with a group of maids and guards. “Alexandra Hemming, you miserable wretch!” she spat, her voice laced with venom. “You may be old and withered, but you still cling to power through your daughter, desperate for favor even now!” Wilma, towering above, glared down at me before barking at the guards, “Take Princess Anne to my residence!” Anne was seized by several hands, and after a moment of shock, she burst into tears, screaming for her “Mother.” I tried to stop them, but the maids bound my hands and feet, pressing me to the ground. “Mother? I am your rightful mother! She’s just a consort with no backing, you foolish girl!” Wilma sneered before sweeping out of the room, her yellow skirt trailing behind her. I hastily wiped away my tears and rushed to the State Hall. “What’s going on?” James, who was reviewing documents, frowned as he saw me disheveled and panicked. Desperate, I clung to his sleeve as if it were my lifeline. “James, please, let Wilma return Anne to me.” “Alex, I always wondered when you’d call me by my name again, but I never thought it would be for this.” Tears streamed down my face uncontrollably, and I couldn’t hear what he was saying. “Anne is all I have left, James. Please, bring her back to me…” “Wilma just likes children. She’s only having Anne stay at Queen’s Hall for a while,” he said, cupping my face with both hands. “Besides, Alex, I should be your only concern, shouldn’t I?” “So, you knew she would take Anne?” He avoided my gaze, instead trying to pull me closer for a kiss. “Stop being stubborn, Alex. Stay here with me, and we can have more children together. Then you won’t have to withhold even a glance from me.” I felt a wave of nausea and raised my hand to slap him hard across the face. “James, you disgust me!” He was stunned by the slap, his gaze turning icy as his face hardened. After a long silence, he finally spoke. “Guards!” she commanded, her voice cold and imperious. “Lock Lady Alexandra in Windsor Palace. She is to be given only one meal a day, and no one is to attend to her needs. She will remain there in isolation until she confesses her sins and acknowledges her wrongdoing.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “294585”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #玄幻Fantsy #狼人werewolf #擦边Steamy #励志Inspiring #现实主义Realistic #校园School #后宫Harem #重生Reborn

My elder sister married the man she longed for, Lord Charles. But on the night of the wedding, it was I who was sent into the bridal chamber. My sister wasn’t worried that I might reveal the truth because I was mute. What she didn’t know was that I was only pretending. “Do as I say, or your mother’s life won’t be spared.” Marianne tore off my outer robe and pushed me behind the screen. Today was her grand day, joining Lord Charles’s manor. I entered the manor with her as her dowry maid. Marianne, still in her bridal crown and gown, looked fierce, but it did not diminish her striking beauty. She drew out a razor-sharp dagger, its blade gleaming ominously as she pressed it against my cheek. I feigned terror, my mouth opening in a silent scream, my eyes wide with false fear. Marianne’s smile twisted into something dark and wicked, a glint of malevolence dancing in her eyes. “Tonight is your wedding night. Serve Lord Charles well. If you please me, your future will be filled with riches.” Marianne had long admired Lord Charles but sent me to his bed because she was no longer chaste. She had an affair with a guard in our manor. When the secret was exposed, her mother had the guard poisoned to cover up the scandal. But the damage was done; Marianne was no longer a virgin. To avoid Lord Charles’s rejection, she chose me as her dowry maid. I was her half-sister, and our figures were similar enough that she believed she could deceive him. Marianne’s threats were not just empty words. “If you slip up, I’ll break your legs and sell you off! And don’t think your mad mother will survive, either!” I bit my lip, nodded with a frightened expression, and Marianne withdrew the dagger, leaving me to wait behind the screen. Soon after, the door to the chamber was flung open with a violent crash. Lord Charles, tall and imposing in his crimson wedding attire, stormed in. I stayed hidden, not daring to make a sound. Marianne obediently sat on the bed, but Lord Charles only glanced at her briefly before turning away to pour himself a cup of tea. Marianne quickly took the cup, secretly adding a pinch of powder she had hidden in her nails. It was an aphrodisiac she had acquired. Lord Charles drank the tea, and soon his face flushed, and his breathing became labored. He glared at Marianne with anger. “What did you give me?” Marianne feigned innocence. “Oh, this… it’s just something an old nanny from home gave me. She said it would enhance the wedding night… I didn’t know what it was…” Lord Charles angrily smashed the cup, causing Marianne to jump in fright. “You dare give me such a vile substance? I’m strong enough without needing such poison! Are you afraid I won’t tire you out?” After his outburst, his condition worsened. His eyes became bloodshot, and his breathing turned more ragged. Marianne was overjoyed, pretending to apologize as she guided him to the bed and blew out the candles, plunging the room into darkness. All that could be heard was Lord Charles’s heavy breathing. Marianne yanked me from behind the screen, her grip merciless as she hurled me onto the bed with a force that knocked the air from my lungs. Lord Charles moved swiftly, wrapping his strong arms around my waist with a desperate, almost frantic urgency. I found myself sprawled atop him, his powerful, masculine scent enveloping me in an intoxicating haze. Without a word, he seized the back of my head, pulling me close as his hot lips crashed against mine. The intensity of his kiss was both consuming and overwhelming. I gasped in shock as the fabric of my clothes was torn apart, the sound of ripping fabric mingling with the pounding of my heart.

As dawn’s first light seeped through the curtains, I trembled uncontrollably as I struggled to climb out of bed. Lord Charles lay beside me, still fast asleep, his breaths deep and steady. My eyes fell to my legs, where dried blood marred my skin—a dark, cruel stain that seemed to slice into my heart with every glance. The memories of the previous night haunted me. Marianne’s scheme had left Lord Charles furious, and he vented all his anger on me, mistaking me for Marianne. He showed no mercy, and despite gritting my teeth, I couldn’t suppress my cries of pain. Marianne was the one who caused all this, yet I had to bear it all. I clenched my fists. These wounds were nothing compared to my mother’s life. I blinked hard, forcing back my tears. Gathering my scattered clothes, I struggled to dress myself. I shakily left the room. In the hall, Marianne stirred from her nap on a chaise lounge. Her eyes narrowed at me with a venomous glare, and she spat out a single word: “Get out!” Taking a deep breath, I forced myself to walk out the door. Returning to the servants’ quarters, I heated water to wash my body. As I undressed, I noticed a jade bracelet with gold inlay on my left arm. I vaguely remembered Lord Charles placing it on me after taking my virginity, saying something about it being a token. If Marianne saw this, it would spell trouble. I tried to remove it, but it was stuck. Frustrated, I decided to leave it on and hide it under my clothes until I could quietly return it to Marianne later. Marianne got what she wanted. Lord Charles didn’t realize that it was someone else who had shared the bridal bed with him. I thought she would live happily with him from then on. But the day after the wedding, Lord Charles was sent to the Southern Territories to quell a rebellion. Marianne and the Dowager Duchess led the family to see him off. Standing at the back of the crowd, I watched indifferently as Lord Charles, clad in armor, was surrounded by well-wishers. The Dowager Duchess was giving him some final advice, and Marianne whispered a few words of concern. Lord Charles’s lieutenant brought his horse, and a tall, imposing woman accompanied him. The woman greeted the Dowager Duchess cheerfully. “Aunt!” The Dowager Duchess nodded. I had heard of this woman before. Her name was Sarah Lane, Lord Charles’s sworn sister and the orphaned daughter of a comrade of the old Duke. She was accompanying Lord Charles on this campaign. I noticed Marianne’s face change instantly when she saw Sarah. Marianne was jealous by nature, and now with Lord Charles away at war, she must have been filled with anxiety over this beautiful woman by his side. Lord Charles was away for over a month when Marianne, under the pretext of visiting her mother, returned to the Moore family estate. When I got home, I found out that my mother had been sent to a remote estate in the countryside. There, she suffered from hunger and cold. I was distraught but had no way to help. One day, while I was making up Marianne’s bed, I overheard her and Lady Lydia talking outside. They were speaking in hushed tones, but I have good hearing. Marianne said, “Lord Charles will be in the Southern Territories for at least a year. If Sarah Lane takes this chance to seduce him, where will I stand when they return?” Lady Lydia replied, “You can’t just sit idly by. You need to secure your position before Lord Charles comes back!” Marianne, panicked, asked, “What can I do? With Lord Charles away, even the Dowager Duchess treats me coldly. She is not Lord Charles’s real mother. Her own son just came of age, and she filled his house with concubines. I bet that old woman is hoping for Lord Charles to die in battle so that her son can inherit the title!” “Don’t talk nonsense! Lord Charles will come back safe and sound!” Lady Lydia then suggested, “But there are things we must be cautious of. Since you’ve consummated the marriage, why not play the trick of ‘flowers blooming on the tree’…”

Marianne asked, “Flowers blooming on the tree? What do you mean?” Lady Lydia whispered a few words, her lips moving with calculated precision. I could make out her message: “You can pretend to be pregnant. If Lord Charles returns early, you can say you had a miscarriage. If he takes longer to come back, we’ll bribe a midwife to find a chubby boy and claim him as your own. And if… Lord Charles never returns, having a son by your side will protect you from that old woman.” Marianne’s eyes lit up, and she nodded enthusiastically. “Mother, you always have the best ideas!” I held my breath and slowly backed away from the door. My hand instinctively drifted to my lower abdomen.My period had been late, and I had already suspected what it meant. Lord Charles’s bloodline had taken root within me. I knew that if this child was born, it would not belong to me. I couldn’t just sit and wait for my fate to be sealed. I knew what Marianne feared most. In that instant, I had a plan. Back at Lord Charles’s manor, I deliberately changed into a brightly colored dress and stood in the garden, tending to flowers. Voices and footsteps approached from the corridor behind me, but I pretended not to hear. A clear male voice called out, “Sister-in-law?” Startled, I turned to see Henry, Lord Charles’s younger brother, accompanied by two beautiful maidservants. When Henry saw my face, his eyes widened with surprise. I knew this was the path he always took to return to his quarters. I made sure to act frightened, bowing to him gracefully. Henry hesitated, asking, “You’re not my sister-in-law? Why do you look so much like her from behind?” One of the maids answered, “This is the Lady Marianne’s dowry maid, Clara.” Henry pondered for a moment, “Clara?” The other maid added, “Clara is mute, young master. Please don’t take offense.” Henry’s expression softened with pity. He gently said, “Clara, the wind is strong here. If you want to pick flowers, you can come to my garden.” I shook my head and quickly bowed, then turned and ran away. — That night, I brought hot water into the room to help Marianne wash her face and hands. She glared at me and suddenly knocked the copper basin out of my hands. Hot water splashed all over me, and I yelped in pain, immediately kneeling before her. Marianne grabbed my chin with her sharp nails, forcing me to look up at her. She smiled coldly, devoid of any warmth. “Clara, you’re quite cunning. Young Master Henry only looked at you once today and went to beg his mother to have you sent to his quarters.” I made desperate hand gestures, trying to show her that I had done nothing wrong. Marianne slapped me hard, sending me sprawling to the floor. She was furious, cursing like a shrew, “You little wench! Don’t think I don’t know what you’re up to! You think you can latch onto young Master Henry and rise above me? As long as I’m here, you’ll never outshine me!” Her reaction was exactly as I had predicted. I noticed the pen and ink on the desk. I quickly crawled over, grabbed the pen, and wrote a line on the paper: “I beg you, Sister, please send me away so I can reunite with my mother.” Marianne eyed me suspiciously. “You really want to leave?” I nodded fervently, then wrote five more words: “Please, Sister, grant my wish.” I knew Marianne had always been wary of me, and now that I was of no more use to her, she wouldn’t keep me around to steal her spotlight. After a moment’s thought, she agreed on the spot. “Fine, since you’re so filial, I’ll grant your wish.” I pretended not to notice the malice in her eyes and knelt to thank her. — The next day, I packed a few belongings and boarded the carriage Marianne had arranged for me. The driver was a thin, wiry man who had eyed me lewdly before I got in. After half a day’s journey, he pulled the carriage into a forest, saying the horse needed a rest. I sat under a tree, clutching my bundle. The man approached me with a bowl of water, pretending to be kind. “Miss, you must be tired. Have some water.” I waved him off and stood to walk away. He followed, grabbing my arm. I pushed him away, spilling the water. His demeanor changed instantly, and he growled, “You’ll regret refusing my kindness!”

He threw the bowl aside and lunged at me. I dodged. The man rubbed his chin with a lecherous grin and said, “Little beauty, Lady Marianne ordered me to kill you. It would be a shame for a pretty face like yours to just die like that. Why not have a little fun with me before you go?” He pursued me like a cat playing with a mouse. “Be a good girl, and maybe I’ll be gentle. But if you make me angry, you’ll suffer even more!” I quickly reached into my clothes and pulled out a packet of powder. When he got close enough, I threw the powder into his face. It was red pepper powder, and it blinded him instantly. “Aaahhh—! Cough, cough…” He clutched his face, coughing violently, rolling on the ground in pain. I may have pretended to be stupid, but I wasn’t. I knew Marianne had no intention of letting me go. She wanted me dead. Thankfully, I was prepared. While he was still writhing in pain, I rushed to the carriage, climbed up, and drove the horse out of the forest. When I reached the estate where my mother was, it was still midday. I didn’t wait for Marianne to get word; I found my mother and took her away immediately. The servants were confused and tried to stop us, but my mother had a fit, scratching and biting them. The overseer cursed us, “Get lost! If you want to go, then go!” I dragged my mother onto the carriage and headed north. Only when we were on the rough mountain roads did I finally relax. We had escaped Marianne’s control! I had saved my mother! Looking back at her in the carriage, I cried tears of joy. I sobbed, “Mother, we’re free from the Moore family. I don’t have to pretend to be mute anymore, and you don’t have to pretend to be insane!” My mother, with her disheveled hair, hugged me tightly, and we wept together. My mother was a healer. She was taken as a concubine by my father after he spotted her during one of her medical visits. My father’s first wife, Lady Lydia, had a face like a saint but a heart like a viper. She treated my mother kindly on the surface but tormented her in secret. She even had my mother’s first two sons killed. I survived only because I was a girl. At first, my father protected my mother, but after his affections waned, he abandoned her. Lady Lydia continued to torment her, so my mother feigned madness to protect herself. When I was ten, I was in the courtyard, learning to sing from the maids. My father and Marianne passed by, and he praised my voice, saying it was as sweet as a nightingale’s song. That night, Lady Lydia had her servants hold me down and forced me to drink a potion that took away my voice. Marianne watched, laughing, saying that the nightingale had had its beak cut off. After they left, my mother secretly found an antidote, saving my voice, though it was never as sweet as before. My mother warned me to hide my talents if I wanted to survive. From then on, I pretended to be mute, never speaking a word to anyone but her. Now, my mother and I had finally escaped the den of vipers. I wiped away her tears and vowed, “Mother, we can never go back to the Moore family!” My mother nodded tearfully. “We should go to your aunt. Five years ago, she sent word that she had married and was living in a place called ‘Clearbrook Town.’” After much inquiry, we finally arrived at Clearbrook Town two weeks later. We found my aunt’s home, only to be told she had become a nun.

It turned out that my aunt’s husband had died of a plague three years ago. She had no children and was not welcomed by her in-laws. With no one to rely on, she had cut her hair and become a nun. We found her at St. Margaret’s Abbey. My aunt had taken the name Sister Clarice, and because of her knowledge and manners, she was appointed as the abbey’s treasurer. My aunt and my mother hadn’t seen each other in over ten years, and they couldn’t stop crying when they reunited. After they had poured their hearts out, my mother explained why we had come. When my aunt learned that I was pregnant, she begged the abbess to let us stay in a small cottage near the abbey. The cottage was old but clean and tidy. My aunt told us, “The abbess said that over forty years ago, a young noblewoman who had fallen on hard times lived here. She met a gentleman in the mountains, and they fell in love at first sight. The lady left with him but continued to send donations to the abbey every few years.” I worriedly asked, “If the lady finds out we’re staying in her cottage, will she be angry?” My aunt smiled. “Don’t worry. That lady is over sixty now, and she’s a kind-hearted woman who’s devoted to the church. She’d be happy to know that her old home is sheltering those in need.” With my aunt’s reassurance, my mother and I settled in. We planted vegetables and herbs in the garden, occasionally selling some herbs in the nearby village for a bit of money. Life was hard, but we were content and free— — Four years later Autumn had just begun, with the sun’s warmth giving way to a cool breeze. My mother had gone to the village, and I was in the garden with my daughter, Rose, drying herbs. Rose pointed to the herbs in the basket, naming them one by one. “Forsythia, Salvia, Angelica, Astragalus…” I patted her head, praising her. “Rose, you’re so clever. You remembered all of them.” My son, James, was playing nearby, chasing a rabbit with a stick. I warned him while tending to the herbs, “James, don’t run around too much. Be careful not to trample on Grandma’s perilla.” James ignored my warning and carried the rabbit outside the gate, still playing with it. I glanced up to see he hadn’t gone far, so I didn’t call him back. James’s laughter echoed as I divided my attention between the children and the herbs. Suddenly, I heard the sound of approaching footsteps and the clinking of jewelry. I put down the herbs and went to the gate to see what was happening. A group of finely dressed travelers was approaching, led by my aunt, Sister Clarice, and the abbess, Sister Helena. They were accompanying an elderly woman with silver hair and a rosy complexion. The old lady looked kind and noble. Following behind her was a large group of people, some of whom I recognized, and it nearly made me lose my balance. It was the Dowager Duchess, Marianne, and Lord Charles! The elderly woman at the front was none other than Duchess Victoria, Lord Charles’s grandmother! What were they doing here? Marianne and Lord Charles were the last people I wanted to see! I was paralyzed with fear when Duchess Victoria’s eyes lit up as she spotted James. “Oh, what a charming little boy!” she exclaimed. James set the rabbit down and folded his hands, greeting Sister Clarice and Sister Helena in a sweet voice, “Bless you.” The Duchess was delighted. She crouched down to play with James, exclaiming, “What a bright young boy! Who taught you this…” She trailed off, studying James’s face in surprise. “Oh my… this child… he looks just like Charles did when he was little!”

After the Duchess finished speaking, her lady-in-waiting, the Dowager Duchess, Marianne, and Lord Charles all gathered around. I held my breath, feeling a chill run down my spine. Everyone started talking at once. The lady-in-waiting said, “Those eyes and that face shape—he really looks just like Lord Charles when he was a child.” The Dowager Duchess agreed, “Her Grace has a sharp eye. He does look remarkably similar…” Marianne forced a laugh. “What a coincidence…” The Duchess, delighted, took James’s hand. “What a sweet child. Where are your parents?” Snapping out of my fear, I realized I couldn’t hide any longer. I forced myself to calm down. Lord Charles and the Dowager Duchess were such high-ranking nobles that they wouldn’t remember someone as insignificant as me. As for Marianne, as long as I denied everything, what could she do in front of all these people? I stepped forward and called out, “James, have you had enough fun? Come back inside and rest.” I watched everyone’s reactions closely. Lord Charles remained calm, but the Duchess and Dowager Duchess looked confused. Marianne, on the other hand, was so shocked that she couldn’t close her mouth. Hearing me speak must have stunned her. James ran into my arms, calling me “Mother.” My aunt then explained to the Duchess, “Your Grace, this is Miss Marianne, who has been staying in your cottage.” It turned out that the noblewoman who had lived here forty years ago was the Duchess herself. The man she had met in the mountains was the late Emperor! I curtsied deeply to the Duchess. “It’s an honor to meet you, Your Grace.” The Duchess smiled warmly. “Master Hyman mentioned that someone had been staying in my old cottage. I never expected it to be such a well-mannered young lady.” I offered a few polite words. “Your Grace’s compassion knows no bounds, blessing all who cross your path. It has been a great fortune for my family to have your protection.” The Duchess beamed and suggested going inside to take a look. A large crowd of people filled the already cramped courtyard. The ladies went inside while Lord Charles and a group of servants and guards stayed outside. Seeing Rose inside the house, the Duchess was even more pleased. She praised, “You’re very fortunate, Miss Marianne, to have such adorable children.” The Duchess immediately had her lady-in-waiting bring out gold coins as gifts for the children. I tried to refuse several times, but my aunt eventually persuaded me to accept. I then had the children bow and thank the Duchess. Marianne, standing nearby, made a snide remark, “Miss Marianne, your surname is Wyth? What a coincidence—there was a runaway servant in my family who also had that surname.” Wyth was my mother’s surname. I knew Marianne was suspicious, so I calmly replied, “Yes, quite the coincidence.” Marianne was about to say more, but the Dowager Duchess shot her a warning glare, and she reluctantly stepped back. The Duchess seemed to take a liking to me and took my hand, asking with concern, “Miss Marianne, why are you living in seclusion here with your children? Where is your husband?” I lowered my gaze and replied with a mix of truth and lies, “My husband joined the army years ago, and we’ve had no news from him since. My children and I had nowhere to go, but thanks to your generosity and Master Hyman’s kindness, we’ve been able to stay here.” As I spoke, Marianne’s expression darkened further. The Duchess, moved by my story, said, “Poor child, you’ve suffered so much. It must be fate that brought you and your children to my old home. Is there anything I can do to help you?” Overwhelmed by her kindness, I responded, “Thank you, Your Grace. Your compassion is truly boundless. Thanks to Master Hyman and the others, we’ve been well taken care of and have no troubles.” The Duchess continued to ask about our well-being, and Marianne couldn’t help but interject, “Your Grace, it’s getting late. Perhaps we should go and have our meal?” As soon as she spoke, the Dowager Duchess scolded her, “The Duchess will decide what we do. You should know your place. As a younger member, how dare you interrupt? Do you not understand the meaning of decorum?”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “294584”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #玄幻Fantsy #狼人werewolf #擦边Steamy #励志Inspiring #现实主义Realistic #校园School #后宫Harem #重生Reborn

My twin sister attempted suicide and was hospitalized. The bullies followed her to the hospital, taunting her and blaming her for what happened. Later, I went to school wearing the same face as my sister. The bullies were thrilled, but I was even more so, because I was a born monster. The only person who could keep my darker thoughts in check was my sister. This was my sister’s second suicide attempt. Without a moment’s hesitation, our parents called the police, their voices tremulous with fear and desperation. Yet, even in the face of the officers’ stern questioning, the main bully remained insufferably smug. “Why are you accusing me of bullying her? Maybe she was bullying me!” he taunted, his eyes gleaming with a cruel satisfaction. “Yeah, my daughter is so gentle, she wouldn’t even hurt an ant.” I watched the mother and daughter pair lie through their teeth on the hospital’s surveillance camera. My sister, who had greeted the day with a bright smile, now lay pale and frail on the hospital bed, her spirit crushed. The girl named Tasha Zayne, her demeanor a twisted mix of arrogance and malice, raised an eyebrow and smirked. “If she acts cheap, I’ll deal with her. Simple as that. What can you do? If you’re so tough, go ahead and lock me up!” After saying this, Tasha even stuck her tongue out at my sister, her expression a mask of unrepentant cruelty. There wasn’t a hint of remorse or fear in her eyes, Tasha’s mother met my mom’s gaze with disdain, quickly looking away. “Hmph, like mother, like daughter, they’re practically cut from the same cloth.” My mom let out a casual laugh. I knew she was angry. Michelle Lindh, one of Tasha’s loyal followers, found a twisted courage and turned her gaze toward my sister, her eyes narrowing with a mix of disgust and malice. “Slitting her wrists?” she sneered. “If she really wanted to die, she should have jumped from the 18th floor and made sure she splattered. What’s the point of slitting wrists if you can’t even die from it? I bet she’s just trying to scam us for money, right, Tasha?” “Hmph! She’s such a troublemaker” Tasha sneered. With insufficient evidence and since they were all minors, the incident ended with Tasha giving a half-hearted apology. At home, our little princess lay silently on the bed, completely lifeless, her body covered in wounds, big and small. My parents and I finally noticed something different. After a long silence, I said, “I’ll go to school in her place.” My parents understood what I intended to do. As I faced the mirror, the reflection that stared back at me was an eerie replica of my sister’s face.

My sister and I are twins, so identical that outsiders can never tell us apart. There were times when even our parents, who should have known us best, almost couldn’t distinguish between Naomi loves pink. All her school supplies and even her bedding are pink. As for me, I only love black. Mom often teased her with a wry smile, “Naomi, if you hadn’t come from my belly, I’d swear you were adopted.” Mom wasn’t entirely wrong. In our family, Naomi is the special one. She’s different from us, pure and kind by nature, and has been carefully protected by me and our parents. But I was born “sick,” a monster in the eyes of others, with only Naomi willing to play with me. For the safety of others, my parents kept me home to study. I didn’t mind because as long as Naomi was there, I never felt lonely. Our parents said Naomi was the family’s top priority. So, I’ve always protected her from the shadows. But we never imagined that after just a year of high school, she would end up like this. The doctor said we needed to take care of Naomi’s emotions. I stroked her forehead and whispered, “Naomi, I will avenge you.” Just then, a sudden phone ringtone broke the silence. Naomi’s face turned deathly pale, and she covered her ears, screaming. I took her phone and opened the message. It was a video showing Naomi being held under a faucet in the bathroom. Her wet hair clung to her cheeks, and her face was flushed red from being choked by the water. The culprit stood to the side, laughing. “If I catch you talking to him again, I’ll slash your face. Let’s see how you can flirt with the boys in our class then!” The video ended with a warning from the bully. Fury surged through my chest, nearly overwhelming me. I closed my eyes and shut off the phone. Naomi’s teeth chattered, and it took her a while to stammer out, “They took a lot of videos of me without any clothes on.” I patted her head gently, looking at her with tenderness. “Do you trust your sister?” Naomi nodded. I walked out into the backyard and used a hoe to dig a new patch of soil. Soon, someone else would be joining us here. Curses rang out nearby. “You’ll all be struck by lightning! You’ll die in the most miserable way!”

I shouldered Naomi’s schoolbag. From now on, I was Naomi Wyth. Annie became Naomi. As soon as I stepped into the classroom, a book flew at my face. I dodged to the side. “Tasha told you to bring breakfast, and you didn’t. You have a death wish?” It was Michelle—Tasha’s loyal little minion, the one whose laughter pierced the video like a venomous knife. Her cruel delight in the suffering of others was palpable, a dark pleasure that twisted her face into a sneer of sadistic glee I ignored her and walked straight to Naomi’s seat. The wooden desk was carved with all sorts of insults: “bitch,” “whore”… “Still admiring those words we carved just for you? Not enough? How about we carve them on your face?” Michelle’s grin grew even wider when I stayed silent. She sauntered up to me, her beady eyes gleaming with malice as she looked down, her smile morphing into a cruel sneer. “I think that’s a brilliant idea,” she drawled. “Tasha will absolutely love it.” Something feral simmered in my veins, seething and coursing through my entire body with a mind of its own. It was a wildfire of rage, and I had no intention of quelling it. Without a moment’s hesitation, I surged forward, my arm cutting through the air with a fierce intent. The slap exploded with a thunderous crack, reverberating through the room like the roar of a storm. A vivid, crimson handprint bloomed across Michelle’s face. “You dare hit me? Just wait until Tasha gets back—you’re dead!” Her voice turned shrill, like a broken chord. The other students, caught off guard, froze, their smiles fading. I narrowed my eyes. “Why aren’t you laughing anymore?” Michelle raised her hand, about to strike back, but the class bell rang. She shot me a venomous glare and returned to her seat. I stuffed the schoolbag into the desk. My hand touched something wet. The desk was filled with greasy snack wrappers, emitting a sickening stench. The homeroom teacher, Ms. Rosetta, walked in. She glanced at me before saying, “Naomi, class has started. Why aren’t you sitting down?” “My desk is full of trash Tasha and her friends stuffed in, and the chair is covered in glue.” I watched as her expression stiffened. She slowly lifted her gaze, snorting, “Are you saying Tasha did this to you?” I said nothing, just stared at her quietly. She scoffed, her laughter tinged with contempt. “Impossible!” she spat, her voice dripping with disdain. “Tasha is the top student in the grade—she would never do something like this. Even if she isn’t here today, I won’t let you besmirch her name!” Michelle shot me a smug look, nodding slightly, her lips curving into a smile. “Ms. Rosetta, she’s just jealous of Tasha. Everyone knows Tasha’s a good student.” “Sit down. If you don’t want to learn, don’t disrupt the others,” Ms. Rosetta snapped at me. I flipped the desk over, revealing the trash inside. The greasy wrappers spilled onto the floor, drawing gasps from the class. Michelle’s eyes blazed with venomous defiance. “Maybe you’re just lazy and have a secret love for snacks,” she sneered, her voice dripping with scorn. “You probably didn’t even bother to throw out your trash and now you’re trying to pin it on me!” Ms. Rosetta’s gaze was contemplative, her expression settling into a thoughtful frown. “I find it hard to believe Tasha would target you,” she said slowly, her voice carrying an edge of reluctant wisdom. “If she did, perhaps it’s time for you to reflect on why. There’s an old saying: it takes two to tango…” I dashed forward, delivering another sharp slap that resounded through the classroom. I smirked at the teacher. “Ms. Rosetta, does this sound like a one-sided slap to you?” No one expected me to be so bold. Even the teacher was stunned. Her face flushed a furious crimson, veins throbbing in her neck as if ready to burst. “Naomi!” she roared, her voice trembling with rage. “How dare you lay a hand on your teacher!” Her words were a torrent of indignation, each syllable punctuated with a fierce determination. “I’m calling your parents! You’re not staying in this school!”

My mom arrived at school quickly. As soon as she saw me, she gave a slight smile, as if to say, “Well done.” In the office, Ms. Rosetta was venting her frustrations to my mom, complaining about how disobedient I was. “All I did was reprimand her, and she dared to hit me? In all my years of teaching, I’ve never seen a student so disrespectful!” My mom tilted her head slightly, casting an indifferent glance at the teacher, her gaze filled with deep disgust. “Ms. Rosetta, don’t you think you might be the problem here? Why did Naomi hit you and not the other teachers?” The words struck a familiar chord. I chuckled. The teacher was rendered speechless by my mom’s half-smiling face. Finally, she blurted out, “Let’s go see the principal. Let’s see if they’ll keep this worthless student or me!” “Sure,” my mom agreed. The moment we saw the principal, my mom rushed forward, shaking his hand eagerly. “This little incident shouldn’t bother the principal. Naomi’s so thoughtless. How about this: my husband and I have decided that as long as the student comes from a poor but honest family, we will sponsor them through graduation.” The principal’s eyes lit up. “Really?” My mom nodded, then glanced at Ms. Rosetta with a challenging look in her eyes. “We wouldn’t joke about something this important.” “That’s great, that’s great. This really isn’t a big deal. Kids will be kids, sometimes a bit naughty. Naomi just accidentally hit Ms. Rosetta. Ms. Rosetta has taught here for so long, she’s seen all kinds of students. Naomi’s just a little mischievous, nothing more. Right, Ms. Rosetta?” The teacher trembled with rage, her mouth twitching, but eventually nodded. The words she had planned to use to get me expelled got stuck in her throat. She couldn’t swallow them, nor could she spit them out. Her face turned ashen. I smiled lightly. This was only the beginning. I was sure that my sister had once reached out to the teacher, hoping she would help pull her out of the mire. But she hadn’t lifted a finger, instead aiding and abetting the bullies. My poor sister, did you see? Sometimes the methods you despise are the ones that truly work. Even when she was driven to the point of suicide, she never told me or our parents about what was happening at school. When we asked, she always brushed it off, saying that the teachers were good and that her classmates were nice. Even now, she still protected those demons. She knew that if they fell into our hands, death would be a mercy.

Tasha Zayne returned. It seemed she had heard about my “transformation” from her classmates—how Naomi Wyth had changed so much that she even hit a teacher and made a scene with the principal. She kicked over my desk. “I take two days off, and you suddenly think you’re something special? Let me see which hand you used to hit Michelle.” I didn’t even bother to look up, just slapped her across the face. “See? I used both hands.” Tasha’s fingers clenched into a fist, her knuckles cracking. “You bitch! How dare you hit me!” She lunged at me, and we started to fight. Her tactics were childish—pulling hair and scratching arms. It didn’t take long for her to lose the upper hand. I dragged her into the bathroom and pushed her head into the sink. The scene reminded me of my sister. She, too, had been held under the water, unable to breathe. Michelle stood frozen at the bathroom door, too scared to move. It wasn’t until Tasha screamed that she finally grabbed a mop and approached. “Michelle, what are you waiting for? Help me strip her clothes off! I’m going to make sure she gets her own video circulating online!” Tasha’s eyes were filled with hatred as she screamed, her face contorted in rage. “If you beat me fair and square, I’d have some respect for you. But you resort to such underhanded tactics, it’s disgusting.” Michelle, taking advantage of a moment when I was distracted, struck me hard on the back with the mop. Tasha managed to free herself and pinned me down. “Bitch! Slut! How dare you hit me!” she snarled, her nails raking across my face. Only when she saw the blood did her fury morph into a twisted, sickening pleasure. A dark satisfaction gleamed in her eyes as she savored the moment. “Now,” she sneered with a cruel edge, “let’s see you try to flirt with the boys!” The taste of blood filled my mouth. But instead of fear, I found myself smiling. “Are you targeting me because I’m prettier than you? Are you jealous that all the boys in class like me?” I guessed right. The moment I said this, Tasha’s expression changed. “Is that why you have this seductive look on your face? Are you desperate for male attention?” Everyone knew my sister was beautiful. It was no secret. Our family had always made an effort to maintain our looks. We had our own methods. Looking at Tasha and Michelle, I couldn’t help but laugh so hard that I doubled over. People like them would make excellent beauty products.

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Title: After My Rebirth, I Danced on the Fake Daughter’s Head At the family reunion, Rebecca Reynolds held my hand, her eyes brimming with tears, “I’m so sorry for taking your life. Don’t worry, the inheritance will all be yours from now on.” I squeezed her hand back, pulling out a document renouncing my rights to the inheritance. “Okay, in that case, go ahead and sign this, Rebecca.” Before the fake daughter could object, I laid down on the floor, flailing my arms and legs, pulling my hair, scratching my neck, screaming, crying, rolling around. Eventually, I faked a seizure, convulsing and foaming at the mouth. I am the real daughter of the Reynolds family who was lost for years. Since I was little, I knew Mom didn’t love me. No matter how obedient and sensible I was, she always found a reason to hit me. Later, when the Reynolds family found me, I realized it’s because I was not their biological daughter. I thought the Reynolds family was my salvation. But my life ended tragically abroad instead. My miserable past life taught me one thing: Look out for number one. You can’t rely on anyone but yourself. Rebecca, now in shock, didn’t dare to move. She hurriedly signed the document in a panic, leaving her handprint. I stood up, brushed the dust off my clothes, and flashed a perfect flight attendant smile. “Thank you for your cooperation.” Turns out, acting crazy works wonders. So why did I spend my past life tiptoeing around, trying to please everyone? Acting wild really paid off this time! I handed the signed document to the lawyer. Some things are best left to professionals. People can change their minds, but the law doesn’t. This time around, you can keep the love, I’ll take the money. Seems fair to me.

The next day, my parents came to my apartment. My biological dad, Douglas Reynolds, carefully spoke up, “Can I take a look at the document Rebecca signed yesterday?” In this life, I didn’t go back to live with them. Instead, I chose a riverside apartment on my own. Last time, their happy family life made me feel like I was just a clown, coveting what wasn’t mine. No point forcing myself into a space where I clearly don’t fit in. It would only disgust everyone, including myself. I smiled, “Nope.” My bio mom, Darcy Reynolds, was caught off guard by my blunt refusal and scolded me with a stern face. “How can you be so heartless? Sure, you’re our biological daughter and the whole mix-up isn’t Rebecca’s fault, but your actions have been pretty harsh.” Last time around, I listened to them, didn’t compete with Rebecca. Yet, all they thought of me was a dropout who embarrassed them. They never really looked at me, not even the housekeeper hesitated to bully me either. Meanwhile, Rebecca thrived under their love, like she was some cherished princess. Was my fate just destined to be so miserable? Seeing my silence, Douglas’s face darkened. “Your mom and I are still alive and kicking, and you’re already scheming over the inheritance. How can you be so cold-blooded?” Listening to their accusations, I silently counted down in my mind. Three seconds later, I stood up, acting possessed. I flailed my hands around, running crazily around the living room. “Who took away my mom and dad? Suffering alone for eighteen years wasn’t bad enough? Now even my parents have been taken over?!?!” “Oh God, please give me back my mom and dad!” My parents were freaked out by my performance and didn’t dare to bring up the document again.

Just like in my past life, Rebecca suggested that I go to school with her, under the guise of “sister bonding.” But having dropped out in middle school, it was impossible to keep up with her in senior year. No surprise, I consistently ranked last in every exam. I’d never heard of the fancy brands, arts, or countries people talked about. Eventually, everyone started to hate me, saying I didn’t belong in the Reynolds family’s prestigious life. Rebecca used my misfortune to highlight her excellence. Over time, people knew the Reynolds family had a daughter who didn’t belong. To save face, they sent me abroad. This time, I won’t let them step all over me again. When Rebecca, smiling brightly, introduced us as twins to her friends, I slammed my hand on the table, lifted her bangs, held her chubby cheeks, and peeled off her double eyelid tape. “Open your eyes wide and take a good look. Do we look like twins?” The surrounding students were frightened by my fierce expression. “Speak! Do we? Who’s prettier?” “No, we don’t look alike… You, you look prettier.” I turned to Rebecca, “So, tell me, what’s our real relationship?” She held back tears, refusing to speak. Instantly, I flipped the desk in front of her and started acting crazed again. “Oh, the heavens! This ugly girl dares to say we’re twins. It’s a crime! I’m the real daughter, but she doesn’t let go of my place. Is she trying to take over my destiny? Heaven, help! I can’t live like this!!!” With everyone’s eyes on her, Rebecca covered her face and ran off. I calmly sat back down, grinning eerily. Word spread fast throughout the high school; Rebecca was the fake daughter. After that, she never returned.

That evening, the Reynolds parents brought Rebecca to my apartment. “How dare you tell people at school that Rebecca isn’t our real daughter? What do you gain from it?” “Well, everyone now knows that I’m the rightful heir to the Reynolds legacy, so, watch out.” Douglas, furious, jabbed his finger at my head, “I’m still alive, and I’ll decide who gets to be the heir!” I smirked. “Got bubbles in your brain, old man? Is this house yours? Do you own any company shares? What right does a freeloading gold digger have to bark orders here?” Darcy and Rebecca were shocked speechless. They usually tiptoed around Douglas’s fragile ego, always pampering him. Pamper someone long enough, and they’ll start believing it. Seeing Douglas tremble with anger, I continued to poke his sore spot. “Everything here belongs to the Reynolds family, including what you use. Don’t forget, my grandpa holds the reins. He’s the one who decides who inherits, not you. Got it?” “Respect me, and maybe I’ll let you have some scraps. If not, once I take over, I’ll kick you out.” Douglas threw his shoe at me, “You ungrateful brat! I’ll rip your mouth off your face!” I dodged easily and turned to Darcy, “Your husband is attacking your own daughter and you’re just standing there? Is this your way of making up for losing me for eighteen years? I’m your blood, and you still prioritize a leeching husband over your own kid?” Darcy stood there unmoved. “Your dad is teaching you a lesson. That’s his right.” Seeing the neighbors crowded around our door with their phones out, Douglas was forced to back down to save face. Through these incidents, Rebecca learned the hard way not to confront me directly. She started to create scenarios at school to paint me as a bully and gain sympathy, making the students hate me. What could I do? I just played along—questioning her, empathizing with her, becoming her, and finally proving her right. “Hey sis, don’t you like me?” “Drop the fake sister act, it’s annoying.” “Sis, I brought you some snacks.” “Afraid you poisoned them.” With both our efforts, everyone soon saw Rebecca as the selfless, kind one who gave up her inheritance to care for her troubled little sister. And me, Jennifer, as the arrogant, blood-related bully who was hell-bent on tormenting poor Rebecca. Sisterly bond? Funny.

One day, Rebecca didn’t come home, leaving my parents pacing in the living room, sending one search party after another with no news. It was only early in the morning when the school’s security found Rebecca locked in the equipment room. Freezing, she ran into her parents’ arms. “Maybe my sister was just playing a prank. Mom, Dad, don’t blame her.” No way was it just a prank on my part. I found out she was planning to frame me, so I locked the equipment room and turned off the heating for good measure. “Enjoy the winter chill, Rebecca,” I thought. Douglas came at me with a slap, “How could you be so evil? Apologize to your sister right now.” I rubbed my swollen cheek. Walking up to my mom, I yanked Rebecca out of her arms and slapped her twice. Dad’s debt, paid by his daughter, buy one get one free. “Say, which eye of yours saw me lock you up, Rebecca?” Terrified, Rebecca cried out. “Jennifer! Stop! Mom is so disappointed in you.” Laughable. Like I care. I put on a fearless expression, tightening my grip on Rebecca’s hair and pinching her behind her back. Rebecca yelped in pain, “Stop! Stop! I’ll tell the truth… It was my own fault. Boohoo…” “Why did you lock yourself up? No lying.” I pinched her harder. “Uh, because… I wanted to frame you.” I let her go, and she bolted like a scared cat. I turned to Douglas, “Hear that? You should control your ‘perfect’ daughter better and stop spreading lies.” In the office, teachers whispered about me. “Humph! Some people falsely accuse me and won’t let me clear myself up.” “Oh dear Lord, they didn’t even check the cameras. They want me dead!” I crawled on the ground evilly and then pretended to faint. For a few days, rumors about me harming Rebecca spread everywhere. I found my homework torn up, my water bottle filled with paper bits. Childish stuff. But no biggie for me. After using the bathroom one lunchtime, I found the door locked from the outside, with giggles filtering in. Bring it on. I stepped back and kicked the door open. Grabbing a mop, I swished it around in the toilet and started flinging it at them. Rebecca and her crew recoiled in horror as I aimed for their faces. Long spear dipped in filth, whoever’s in the way gets hit. Soon enough, they were covered in nasty stains. “Jennifer, you witch! This isn’t over—” gag They retreated, and Rebecca lunged at me. I swung the mop, knocking her down, while she winced in pain. I leaned against the door, blocking their path to the classroom. “No dirty things allowed in school.” At that moment, the teacher arrived. “Jennifer, this behavior is intolerable! Apologize to your classmates and write a 3,000-word reflection.” I scoffed, still in the doorway. “Pay attention when the teacher talks to you. Show some respect. Reynolds family must be ashamed of having a daughter like you.” “Respect for you? A corrupt teacher who plays favorites and sucks up to the principal? You sort students into tiers, using scholarships and awards as bribes. Today marks your last day on the job.” The teacher, furious, “How dare you!” “Oh, spare me. Return all the bribes you took and hope for leniency.” He had often taken gifts from Rebecca in the past, turning a blind eye to my suffering. Those who had been discriminated against for their poor family backgrounds now looked at me with newfound respect. Awkward but satisfying. The next day, we got a new teacher who devoted himself entirely to preparing us for college entrance exams. The poisonous atmosphere lifted, and the study environment became much fresher. 5 That weekend, the Reynolds family sent a driver to bring me back for dinner. I knew right away it was going to be a trap. I made sure to wear something comfortable, an outfit that allowed for easy movement. Couldn’t let clothes hinder my performance. Barely had I sat down and taken a few bites before Douglas started lecturing me. Same old accusations — selfish, rude, vulgar. Then he demanded that I hand over the inheritance renunciation agreement Rebecca had signed previously. “You weren’t with me and your mom growing up, so you’ve picked up some bad habits. But if you behave and change, you’ll still be our good daughter, and we won’t treat you poorly.” I looked at Darcy, my biological mother. “Mom hopes you can get along with Rebecca.” Some people really will neglect their own children for the sake of some undeserving man. I stood up and shattered my plate on the ground. “What a joke. When have you ever treated me fairly? Have you even asked about the kind of life I lived? I wanted to get along, but Rebecca kept targeting me. And every time, it was her who started it. Have you once, even once, stood up for me?” “Jennifer, don’t slander me. Mom, Dad, you can ask around at school. I’ve always wanted to get along…” Before Rebecca could finish, I grabbed a plate of food and dumped it on her head. “Shut up!” Douglas shouted, “Jennifer, how dare you hit someone in front of your parents!” He called in a couple of security guards to pin me down. I might be feisty, but I’m no match against two grown men. “I’ll beat this rebellious daughter of mine to death today.” Douglas picked up a stick and started hitting me. The pain made sweat bead on my forehead. Darcy didn’t intervene; she was busy wiping food off Rebecca’s head. Rebecca played the innocent, sobbing while comforting her parents that she was okay. The whole scene was ridiculous. I held back my tears. Compared to my previous life, this was nothing. After a few strikes, Douglas paused, mistaking my lack of resistance for submission. Slumped on the floor, I saw my chance. I grabbed the stick and struck Douglas straight on the head with all my strength. Douglas crumpled to the ground, unable to get up. The security guards were stunned, and Darcy screamed. She rushed over and slapped me. “Jennifer, you’re not my daughter anymore.” Fine by me; I didn’t want them as my parents either. The mansion was in chaos, and when someone tried to make a call, I raised the stick. “Who’s calling?” The maid froze, probably because I actually meant business.

From then on, the Reynolds family cut off all contact with me. Rebecca would go out of her way to avoid me at school. I heard Douglas had been in the hospital for a few days. Only a few days? I must have gone easy on him. They canceled my credit cards and took back the apartment. They even sent a lawyer with a document severing parental ties. I gladly signed it. Let them enjoy their small victory for now. For my eighteenth birthday, the Reynolds threw a huge party for Rebecca, not bothering to invite me. No big deal. I have legs, don’t I? I put on a stylish new dress and arrived fashionably late. Rebecca looked like she’d seen a ghost. “You’re not welcome here. Get lost.” Douglas soon arrived. “You signed the severance papers. Get out.” “So your family needs to get out of my house. I don’t like strangers here.” Douglas raised his hand to hit me, but my security guards stepped in — I’d brought a dozen of them this time, all well-trained. I walked right up to the stage and took the mic from the host. “Hello, everyone. I’m Jennifer, the rightful heir to the Reynolds family. Moving forward, I’ll be taking over Reynolds Corp.” Guests, many high-profile business associates of the Reynolds, started whispering amongst themselves. Douglas tried to disrupt me, but my guards held him back. I dropped another bombshell. “The board has decided to remove Douglas from all positions at Reynolds Corp and will pursue legal action for any crimes he committed while in office.” Douglas, furious, started screaming insults at me. “You little brat! Without your grandpa, you’re nothing. You think you can push me out? I’ve been with Reynolds for twenty years! Who do you think gave you this power?” “I did.”

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Title: What’s It Like to Have a Jerk for a Boyfriend? In chick lit, there’s a cliche called “replacement love.” It’s when the male lead, missing someone he loves, finds a girl who looks just like her. Unbelievably, I ended up as the unlucky woman studying abroad, only to be cheated on. My first boyfriend couldn’t dodge the cheesy plot; he started dating someone who looks a lot like me. When I came back to town, he brought his new girlfriend to my welcome home party. Friends from our circle were all waiting to see me flustered. They were in for a surprise though, as I brought my new boyfriend back as well. The day Kai Dawson broke up with me, he sent a text: “Sorry, Sue. I broke my promise. I don’t want to wait anymore.” At that time, I still had a year left in school. We had survived three years long-distance, but our relationship fell apart in the last year. He had shown signs of losing interest, so I wasn’t too surprised. Swallowing my sadness, I replied: “It’s okay, let’s just be friends.” “Alright.” But later, I found out he had blocked me. A good ex is like being dead. I didn’t blame him and just blocked him back. Before returning from Italy, some old friends insisted on throwing me a welcome back party. They didn’t tell me that Kai and his new girlfriend would be there. Luckily, my best friend couldn’t stand it and tipped me off. “Sue, don’t go! They just want to humiliate you! Kai’s new girl is afraid he might still have feelings for you, so she demanded this party to show off.” I shrugged off her concern, “Aside from them, there are other people I haven’t seen in a while. I’ll just give them face and show up.” “It’s all Kai’s buddies. I wish I could be there to support you. Don’t let them get to you!” “Thanks for the heads-up. If someone’s set the stage for me, I can’t let them down. Don’t worry, I’ve got a plan.” The day I returned, I went to the party as planned. The waiter opened the private room door, and the first person I saw was Kai, sitting at the head of the table. A year hadn’t changed his good looks and confident demeanor. Next to him sat a stunning woman, his new girlfriend Evelyn, a recent hire at Kai’s company. She bore an uncanny resemblance to me. My heart tightened at the sight. I remembered two years ago when Kai sent me a picture of Evelyn. “A new recruit came in for an interview today. She startled me; I thought you had snuck back to surprise me.” Back then, Evelyn looked even more like me—same hairstyle, makeup, and fashion sense. I laughed it off, joking, “Maybe we’re related. I need to ask my dad.” Kai said, “No, she’s not. She’s from out of town, her parents are alive, and she has a twin brother who looks nothing like her.” “You checked into her background?” “Of course, we need to know about new hires.” Who would’ve thought that the girl I didn’t think twice about would replace me so completely? Back in the present, Kai’s friend Finn stood up. “Welcome back, Sue. It’s great to have our star back…” His voice trailed off as everyone looked at the man behind me. I greeted them calmly: “It’s been a while. Thanks for remembering me.” Finn forced a laugh and asked, “Sue, who’s this? Aren’t you going to introduce him?” Stepping aside, I proudly introduced, “This is Gareth Kirby, my boyfriend.” The word ‘boyfriend’ made everyone’s eyes widen in surprise. Gareth flashed his dazzling smile, showing off two cute dimples: “Good evening, everyone. I’m honored to be here with you tonight.” Gareth is incredibly handsome, and his smile had an explosive effect. The ladies were openly staring. One girl with long black hair exclaimed, “Wow, Sue, your boyfriend is too gorgeous!” The others quickly followed: “He’s unfairly handsome! Is Gareth a model or an actor?” Before I could answer, Gareth chimed in sweetly, “Thank you for the compliment, but you’re all very beautiful too. Just call me Gareth.” Not only is he good-looking, but he’s also charming. The crowd that was waiting to mock me had their focus entirely captured by Gareth. Even Evelyn couldn’t help but sneak glances at him. Kai’s face darkened, and he said sternly: “Let’s all sit down and chat. No need to stand around.”

As Kai spoke, the chatter died down. The waiter added an extra seat, and Gareth and I sat closely together. Once seated, I began introducing Gareth to everyone at the table. Tonight was supposed to revolve around me, but everyone was now completely fixated on Gareth. Gareth had been studying in France since middle school. He’s naturally outgoing and sociable, so I wasn’t worried about him being out of place. The girl with the long straight hair teased me, “Sue, you really kept this one under wraps, didn’t you? Secretly got yourself a new boyfriend.” Her words carried a bit of edge, and I saw some people’s eyes dart between me, Kai, and Evelyn with curiosity. I smiled softly and said, “Well, life is all about moving forward, isn’t it?” Over on the other side, Evelyn shyly leaned closer to Kai. “What’s wrong?” Kai asked, genuinely concerned. “Just a bit tired from filming a late-night scene last night…” Evelyn said, trying to muster a smile, “I’ll be fine. I’ll just take a nap in the car later.” Kai’s concern was palpable, “Eat something and I’ll take you home to rest.” He urged everyone, “Let’s order some food.” Someone teased, “Mr. Dawson is such a doting boyfriend.” “With a girlfriend as beautiful as Evelyn, who wouldn’t be?” Evelyn bashfully hid her face in Kai’s shoulder, “Stop teasing me…” I could feel some probing eyes on me, waiting for my reaction. Inside, a mix of bitterness and sadness churned, but I didn’t let it show. It stung to see my longtime boyfriend with someone who was essentially my replacement, flaunting their affection right in front of me. The feeling of being outdone by a knockoff version was humiliating. “Doting boyfriend? Really?” I thought to myself. The deep affection he once showed me could transfer so easily to someone else. I couldn’t tell if that was my tragedy or his. Finn politely offered me the menu, spinning it on the lazy Susan toward me. Trying to keep my composure, I said graciously, “I’m not familiar with this restaurant. Why don’t you all order what you like? This meal is on me, so go ahead and pick anything.” Kai replied indifferently, “This place is members-only. I’ll cover it through my membership.” I smiled politely, “Thank you, Mr. Dawson. Let’s have me host next time.” Gareth, without hesitation, picked up the menu and whispered in my ear, “Sue, what’s this chicken dish with sea cucumber?” “It’s a beauty-boosting dish. Want to try it?” “I’d like to.” He kept pointing out dishes and asking me about them, and I patiently explained everything I knew. Our heads were so close together it was almost like we were whispering secrets. The long-haired girl couldn’t help but ask, “Gareth, are you younger than Sue?” Without hesitation, I answered, “Yes, Gareth is six months younger than me.” The ladies chimed in with enthusiastic comments: “A younger boyfriend, how intriguing!” “Young and full of energy!” I overheard Kai’s friends whispering in Glaswegian dialect, perhaps thinking Gareth wouldn’t understand them: “A pretty boy hired to play the part?” “Must be, just to annoy Kai…” “I thought she had moved on. He’s just a kept man.” “Pride can be a heavy burden.” Disrespectful, regardless of whether it was true. Kai likely heard them, too. His lips curled into a mocking smile as he glanced at Gareth with disdain. Evelyn softly asked, “Kai, do you like younger women too?” Kai’s response was thinly-veiled disdain, “No. I’m a bit old-fashioned; I need a woman younger than me.” Clearly a jab at me, but I bit my tongue, forcing myself not to react. Gareth, oblivious or simply unbothered, kept browsing the menu. He saw a sea cucumber soup and said to one of the whispering guys, “Dougie, how about I order you some sea cucumber soup?” Dougie, trying to be polite, replied, “No, thank you, that’s too much…” Gareth smiled sweetly, “You’ve got dark circles and grey around your lips. Might be kidney issues. Sea cucumber is quite nourishing.” No man wants to hear that, and Dougie’s face turned several shades at once. He rushed to deny it, “I don’t have kidney issues!” Gareth, with unflinching innocence, said, “Your dull, oily skin and red nose suggest hormonal imbalance. You should see a specialist.”

Poor Dougie looked like he was about to explode from embarrassment, unable to come up with a retort. I playfully scolded Gareth, “Gareth, Dougie’s girlfriend would know if he had such issues. No need for you to worry.” Dougie’s girlfriend, caught in the awkwardness, took a sip of water. Gareth quickly apologized, “Sorry, Dougie, I didn’t mean to be so blunt. I know you won’t take it to heart, right?” What could Dougie say? He could only stew in his own frustration. The long-haired girl, enjoying the drama, asked, “Gareth, can you diagnose us too?” “I wouldn’t say diagnose. My grandpa’s an internist, so I picked up a bit here and there,” Gareth downplayed his knowledge, then dropped another bomb on the second whisperer, “Mr. Newman, your sparse facial hair but thick head hair is typical of someone wearing a wig.” Newman had long dealt with premature balding, always hiding it with a wig—it wasn’t a secret, but it wasn’t talked about either. A few people couldn’t hold back their laughter. Newman’s smile disappeared, his tone becoming hostile, “What’s your point?” Gareth feigned surprise, “Oh? Did I say something wrong? I thought it was a wig. It’s so realistic; I was going to recommend it to my uncle. My bad. It’s real hair?” Newman, who hated any mention of his wig, almost lost it. He was about to lash out when I softly reiterated in dialect, “Pride can be a heavy burden.” Newman swallowed his retort, simmering in anger. Gareth, all innocence, asked, “Sue, what did you just say?” I smiled, “Nothing, let’s order.” Food finally arrived, and Gareth and I played the perfect hosts, urging everyone to dig in. Evelyn tenderly peeled shrimp for Kai, and Gareth cut my steak. They flaunted their affection, and we flaunted ours. Everything seemed fine until one troublemaker couldn’t keep his mouth shut. A guy with glasses said snidely, “It’s a new world where men are doing women’s work now, huh?” He then praised Kai, “Kai made the right call, choosing a gentle, traditionally-minded girl.” But before Kai could respond, the long-haired girl scoffed, “So, are you looking for a girlfriend or a maid?” Another short-haired woman chimed in, “Do you think women exist to serve you?” I smiled softly, “It’s not the Victorian era anymore.” That guy quickly became the enemy of all the women at the table. Trying to salvage his standing, he backpedaled. “Just joking. No need to be so sensitive.” Gareth, with a big grin, added, “In my family, it’s normal for men to take care of women. My mom never has to peel shrimp; my dad always does it for her. Now, even in her fifties, her hands are still soft and pretty.” Gareth peeled a shrimp in a few swift motions, removing the vein and placing it in my bowl. I smiled and thanked him. The long-haired girl chimed in, “Gareth and his dad are the real doting men here. Actions over words any day.” Kai’s face showed a hint of discomfort, and even Evelyn looked awkwardly at their half-eaten shrimp. The meal turned out to be more comfortable than I’d anticipated. Watching my ex with his new girlfriend wasn’t as painful as I’d feared. On the way back, I gazed pensively out at the night. Gareth tried to lighten the mood, “Sue, did I do alright today?”

I laughed softly, “You did amazingly well, even better than I thought you would.” “Of course! How could I let you down?” Gareth replied confidently. “By the way, do you actually understand that Glaswegian dialect?” I asked, clearing up a nagging question in my mind. “Yup,” Gareth said, puffing out his chest with pride, “I know four languages and fifteen dialects.” He started listing off, almost like showing off a treasure, “Scottish, Irish, Gaelic… I know them all.” I sighed, “You’re really something else. Being an actor is actually an understatement.” “Nah, it’s not easy being an actor either,” Gareth replied humbly. He was also an artist signed to my company. We were college mates; I studied economics, and he went to the art school. Gareth, tall and handsome with an extroverted personality, loved performing. He had experience in theater and was pretty popular on social media, making him a minor celebrity abroad. Several talent agencies had tried to sign him, and he was keen on breaking into the domestic entertainment industry. Hearing my family’s business was a film investment company, Gareth approached me. My company rarely signed new talent, preferring seasoned actors from prestigious acting schools. Despite his impressive resume, Gareth was still considered a rookie. But I needed a good-looking and talented actor to deal with Kai and the gang upon my return, so we struck a deal. Gareth said sweetly, “If you ever need me to act again, just let me know.” “Thanks, but you should focus on your career,” I replied, putting on a serious face. “I treat you the same as any other employee. I hope you earn your place at the company through your own merit.” “Yes, ma’am!” Gareth gave me a playful salute. Once home, freshly showered and ready for bed, my best friend Lily sent me a voice message: “Hey, I heard you brought a new boyfriend?! When did that happen?” I could practically see her eyes shining with gossip through the phone. I gave her a rundown of what happened. Lily chuckled, “So, you hired an actor? That’s smart. He’s handsome and charming. Who knows, maybe sparks will fly for real.” I sighed, “I don’t mix work with personal life. It’s just messy.” “True, power dynamics can get weird. But are you sure he doesn’t have other motives?” Lily interrupted herself, “Susan told me your ‘boyfriend’ roasted Kai’s friends to a crisp! Too bad I missed it!” Susan was the long-haired girl from dinner. “He’s quick-witted and has a sharp tongue…” I was saying when a friend request popped up on my phone: Evelyn. Kai’s new girlfriend wanted to add me? I was puzzled. She must’ve gotten my contact from Finn. After a few seconds of thought, I accepted. Back in the chat, Lily asked, “Still there?” “Yeah, Evelyn just added me.” “😲 What’s she want?” “No idea, maybe she has something to say?” “Drama queen.” Evelyn soon sent a greeting, to which I politely responded with a smiley emoji. Then she sent a video. In the dim light, I could see a shirtless Kai, snoring and sprawled on a pillow, with someone’s bare arm in the shot. Disgust hit me like a wave, making me feel sick. Evelyn texted: “Kai’s snoring is so loud. Was he always like this? He won’t sleep without hugging me; it gets so hot and sticky…”

Lily wasn’t wrong; Evelyn was a drama queen. Unsure how to respond, I exited the chat. Out of sight, out of mind. Lily was still curious, “Why did she add you? Did she say anything?” I sent her the video and our chat. Lily exploded, sending a barrage of memes: “Is she insane?” “I’ve never seen anyone so shameless!” “Evelyn’s crazy!” I replied, “I think I’ll just delete her.” “Don’t! She’ll think she scared you off. Keep her around. Let’s see what other stunts she tries to pull.” “Okay, I’m off to bed. You should rest too.” “You can sleep after that? That girl’s nuts! Kai’s a fool for cheating on you for her.” “Seeing them together today, I was sad. But now, I feel relieved. Once a cheater, always a cheater. Thanks to Evelyn, I see Kai clearly now.” Lily said, “You’re so chill. I’d be cussing both of them out!” I sent her a meme saying “I’m eerily calm right now.” “Don’t waste your energy on people who don’t deserve it,” I advised. Evelyn didn’t provoke me again, though she often posted lovey-dovey pictures of her and Kai in her Moments, all of which were only visible to me. Realizing this, I decided to block her. Back to Gareth, he officially joined my company as a signed actor. The company planned to film a spy drama “Misty Mist,” and I secured a role for Gareth as the third male lead. He was thrilled. “Sue, I’ve read the script. My part isn’t huge, but it’s a powerful role.” I encouraged him, “Do well, and you can aim for movies. Your career could skyrocket.” Most lead roles were taken by acclaimed actors, promising mutual success for the film. But a month before shooting, the female lead was replaced by none other than Evelyn. As a producer, I was the last to know. The investor’s representative apologetically explained, “Mr. Dawson insisted Evelyn play the role. He really wants her in this project. We hope you’ll understand.” With financial backing from Kai’s company, I had little choice. Complaining would be futile. I felt disheartened but professional, “Tell Mr. Dawson that any breach of contract fees must also be covered.” The rep readily agreed, “Of course, Mr. Dawson will handle all costs.” So, it was settled. With the closed training and filming schedule, Gareth would be in the crew for nearly half a year. I was increasingly busy and rarely had time to check in with him. Two months into filming, Gareth messaged me, “Sue, can you come visit me on set?”

I replied cheerfully, “I’d been planning to come visit you all anyway. See you in a few days.” Gareth was over the moon, his excitement so evident as he said, “Really? That’s awesome! I can’t wait!” I knew why he wanted me to come. Apparently, Kai had recently visited Evelyn on set. I chuckled, “Whatever other kids get, you’ll get too.” “Thanks, Sue!” As the weather turned colder, I made sure to bring hot drinks for the entire crew when I visited the set. Gareth was still in costume from his scene, wearing a perfectly tailored 1930s military uniform that made him look dashing and charismatic. Seeing me, Gareth lit up like a lost puppy reunited with his owner, practically wagging his tail. I patted his head and then his shoulder. Though Gareth was only six months younger than me, our dynamic often felt like… well, parent and child? Owner and pet? Today, some media were also on set for interviews. After gulping down his hot coffee, Gareth was pulled aside by the director for a press interview. He and Evelyn sat together on camera, mics in hand. After some standard questions, the reporter targeted Gareth: “As newcomers, what do you two think of each other’s performances?” Evelyn turned on her performance mode and said with exaggerated sweetness, “Gareth is great with everyone; he’s charming and always knows how to make people smile. Everyone adores him. Our producer even came today just to see him. I’ve heard Gareth was a personal recommendation by our producer, and they’re college mates. I’m sure he has qualities that really stand out, which is why the producer took special interest in him.” Evelyn was just a step away from saying Gareth got his role by cozying up to the boss. It’s true I was promoting Gareth, but he had the talent to back it up. And let’s not forget Evelyn was only here because Kai paid big bucks to get her in. Pot calling the kettle black! The reporter chuckled awkwardly and turned to Gareth, “Gareth, what do you think of Evelyn?” Gareth flashed an impish grin, “I admire Evelyn a lot. She’s come up with a brilliant way to remember her lines. She gets her assistant to write them all on big cue cards and reads off them during scenes. It’s genius! Saves so much time on memorizing. Why didn’t I think of that? Gosh, I’m really slow!” His words dripped with sarcasm, leaving Evelyn fuming and forcing a smile. The awkward tension was palpable, with some crew members stifling laughter. Evelyn forced a laugh, “That’s not true… I only use the cards as a backup. I don’t really look at them during takes…” Gareth didn’t let up, “Oh, I’m just bad at memorizing, so I use my meal breaks to study my lines. Not like Evelyn, who’s both beautiful and clever. She spends her breaks video chatting with her boyfriend. So sweet and enviable…” Gareth pretended to be shocked, covering his mouth, “Wait, was I not supposed to say that? Can we cut that part out?” Evelyn’s face turned green, her eyes rolling in exasperation. The reporter quickly changed the subject, trying to steer the interview back on track. Media folks know better than to air dirty laundry that tarnishes everyone involved. Sometimes, it takes a real jerk to beat another jerk at their own game. Internally, I rated Evelyn: “Prideful but clueless, daring to mess with Gareth—good luck!” In the entertainment industry, actors pulling each other’s hair in private isn’t unheard of. Companies usually don’t step in unless things get out of hand. But some folks just can’t let things go. Not long after, I attended a business event with my brother and ran into Kai. Pulling me aside, he got straight to the point: “You need to consider enrolling your little boyfriend in manners classes, teach him some etiquette.”

His snide tone made it clear Evelyn had complained to him, and Kai was here to defend his precious girl. I crossed my arms, unbothered, “Mr. Dawson, if you have something to say, say it straight. Where did you pick up this passive-aggressive attitude?” Kai looked a bit embarrassed but quickly regained his composure, “Evelyn truly loves this project. I helped her secure the main role because of that. Since you agreed to let her participate, don’t make things difficult for her. I always considered you a reasonable person. Don’t ruin that impression.” I wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. For heaven’s sake, who’s making things difficult? I had better things to do. And it was Evelyn who started it, Gareth merely retaliated. But expecting Kai to be objective was wishful thinking. Defending your girl is natural. Seeing my silence, Kai continued, “I know seeing Evelyn and me together hurts you… I was wrong. I’ll make it up to you in other ways. But don’t take it out on Evelyn; she knows nothing. It’s me you should be mad at.” This sounded too much like those dramatic TV clichés, and I couldn’t stand it. Cutting him off, I fired back, “Mr. Dawson, we are long over. I have no lingering feelings for you. And I’ve never targeted your girlfriend. She added me as a friend, sent me your sleeping videos. I have no interest in your playtime preferences. I just care about my company.” “Evelyn… couldn’t have,” Kai looked genuinely confused, unable to believe his sweet girlfriend could be so petty. I pulled up my chat logs with Evelyn as proof. Seeing the evidence, Kai was dumbstruck. I continued, “Invest in a few acting classes for your girlfriend. As an actress, she should focus on honing her skills. Viewers can tell when actors aren’t putting in the effort. If you can’t bear to see her struggle, marry her and pamper her at home. Don’t rob hardworking people of their roles.” Ignoring Kai’s pale face, I walked away. A month later, “Misty Mist” wrapped filming. The distribution company was pleased and planned to release it during the lucrative New Year’s season. I also heard that Kai had arranged for Evelyn to get a Best Actress award. Since my family financed the film, I didn’t mind Kai adding some shine to it. Gareth’s manager suggested, “Let’s have Gareth contend for the Best Newcomer award too.” “Sure,” I agreed, “but let’s do it on merit. No buying votes.” “Got it. Even a nomination would be great for him at this point.” Believing that “character is fated to follow talent,” I was determined to guide Gareth on a steady career path. Shortly after, director Daniel Williams, an influential figure in international cinema, got impressed by Gareth through word of mouth. Known for resisting financial influence, Daniel auditioned Gareth, who landed a small part in one of his films. Even a minor role in a Daniel Williams film is an honor. While Gareth continued progressing steadily, Evelyn’s team bragged about only taking leading roles in major productions. Her next gig was in an S+ fantasy historical drama, supported by a slew of popular stars Kai paid for. When the cast was announced, Twitter blew up, labeling Evelyn a talentless resource hog. Kai had his PR team manage the backlash quickly, preventing it from escalating. Lily joked, “Evelyn lands the female lead while your Gareth plays a bit part. You’re tough on boys but spoil girls. You and Kai think alike in that way.” “”Actually, this part is perfect for Gareth. A good role, even a small one, can make a big impact,” I explained. “I prefer steady, genuine growth over artificial boosts.” Lily fully agreed, “You’re right; forced fame brings bad luck. Don’t take on a job you’re not ready for.” Little did I know, Lily’s words would come true…

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “294581”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #玄幻Fantsy #狼人werewolf #擦边Steamy #励志Inspiring #现实主义Realistic #校园School #后宫Harem

My Boyfriend pretended to be a poor college student, but he’s actually the geir to New York’s Wealthiest Family. Even after my best friend suggested for the hundred and first time that I dump my freeloader of a boyfriend, I still refused. There was no way I would ever break up with him. That was until I overheard his secretary late one evening: “Since the fish are already on the hook, it’s time for me to reel them in.” “And what about Miss Keira?” he asked. “She loves money. We’ll just write her a check and be done with it.” Hearing this, I nearly laughed out loud. Finally, I’m going to get rich. Lately, Raphael Parsons has been sneaking out a lot behind my back. He always makes a great meal for me beforehand, doting on me with sweet words. Then, once I’m asleep, he tiptoes out quietly. Little does he know, I’m not actually asleep. Because every night, I’m praying he betrays me. So, tonight, after another long evening, Raphael quietly snuck out. This was the tenth time this month, and my patience was wearing thin. I threw on a coat and followed him out, silently slipping down the staircase. Pressing my ear to the door, I overheard his conversation. “Those old guys at the company are getting impatient. It’s time to wrap this up,” Raphael said. Another man’s respectful voice replied, “And what should we do about Miss Keira?” My heart tightened. Raphael had been freeloading off me for so long, eating my food, using my money. Surely, he wouldn’t just leave without a word? Raphael’s voice was low. “She’s obsessed with money. Just write her a check and be done with it.” The man seemed taken aback. “But Miss Keira has taken care of you for a while now. Isn’t just writing a check a bit heartless?” Raphael sounded annoyed, “What else? Should I take her back as my wife? She’s just a third-rate college grad working in a third-rate company. She isn’t fit to walk through the Parsons’ doors.” The man asked, “How much should the check be?” Raphael replied coldly, “Let her fill in the amount.” Hearing this, I slipped back to the room. I could hardly contain my excitement. “Let her fill in the amount.” Those were the sweetest words I’d ever heard.

Yes, it’s true. I’ve lived through this before. In my last life, I also met Raphael in the hospital, where he was pretending to have amnesia. I was charmed by his looks and took him home, feeding him, clothing him, and giving him a place to stay. Honestly, we had a blissful time together. I foolishly believed that love was everything. Raphael pretended he lost his memory during a car accident caused by a company dispute. Meanwhile, he was secretly reorganizing the entire Parsons Group. When the Parsons family came to fetch Raphael, around ten Rolls-Royces drove into my soon-to-be-demolished neighborhood. The entire area gathered to watch. Raphael donned a tailored suit and Rolex, handed me a $500,000 check as thanks, and said goodbye. Back then, I was all about Raphael and refused the check, wanting only to be with him forever. Raphael’s look of disdain still haunts me. He broke up with me, and I couldn’t take it. I exposed our relationship to the media, revealing his deceit. This scandal gave him a terrible reputation and caused uproar within the Parsons Group, destabilizing it again just after they had ended a power struggle. Under pressure, Raphael publicly proposed to me. On our wedding night, I saw news of him and a famous model at a hotel. Soon after, he tormented me daily, disgusted by my mere presence. He even purchased the media outlet I had exposed him to and outed me as the source. I became the villain, and the harassment drove me to depression, eventually leading to my suicide.

When I woke up, I found myself back in the hospital, where I first met Raphael. Seeing him pretending to be pitiful, I rolled my eyes. This time, I’m getting my $500,000. Forget revenge – I just want the money. Just as before, Raphael claimed he had amnesia and was head over heels for me. His chiseled face seemed to scream “$500,000.” I brought him home again. Everything proceeded just as it had in my past life. We got together, and I was even more attentive to him this time around. He was tired? I massaged his shoulders. Hungry? I cooked for him. Needed money? I transferred it to him. Even if he wanted to sleep with me? No problem. My longtime best friend, Maia, berated me for being blinded by love. Our neighbor wished his wife treated him as well as I treated Raphael. Our relationship blossomed, and Raphael even started cooking and caring for me. He’d often bring me lunch at work, making my coworkers envious of my attentive boyfriend. Ha – attentive? More like a dog. With Raphael freeloading off me and me focusing on making money, my career soared, and I got three promotions. But those small sums meant nothing. I wanted my $500,000. My phone buzzed. It was Maia’s hundred and first message telling me to break up with Raphael. “Keira, you need to dump that freeloader, or we’re done. Remember our dreams of getting rich?” In my past life, I refused because I loved Raphael. This time, I refused again but for the sake of riches. “Maia, I love Raphael, but it won’t interfere with our dreams. Get ready to pack up and get your passport. We’re flying high soon.” I sent the message just as I heard a sound outside. Raphael was back. Quickly, I put my phone down and pretended to be asleep. He slipped into bed, wrapped his arm around my waist, and fell asleep. As he slept soundly, I lay awake, too excited about the “write any amount” to sleep. Finally, my days of serving him were coming to an end. I was ready to sing songs of freedom.

After another month passed, I wondered why Raphael hadn’t returned as he had in my past life. One evening, I came home to flowers, balloons, candles, food, and music. “Keira, today marks our one-year anniversary,” Raphael said, dressed to the nines. Confused, I blinked. Seeing my lack of response, Raphael waved his hand in front of my face. “Keira, Keira, what are you thinking about?” I coughed. “Thinking of you, my dear. Wondering how much effort you put into surprising me. I’m so moved.” I feigned gratitude and snuggled into Raphael’s arms, kissing his chin. He held me tightly, rubbing his chin on my head. “It’s all for you,” he said. Fighting the urge to laugh, I remembered his past words about my “third-rate” status. “Will you ever leave me? I mean, I’m just a third-rate college grad working a third-rate job.” “Of course not!” he replied with conviction. Oh, the irony. “Really? Will you marry me then?” I asked, testing him. He faltered. Ha, caught him. “Of course I will,” he finally said. I didn’t expect him to agree, though his loathing of me was hard to miss. If only his acting skills were put to better use. Seeing him bring out a fancy velvet box, my eyes gleamed. Time to cash in. He handed it over, and I opened it, expecting a treasure. Instead, it was a red string. Disappointed, I asked, “What’s this?” “It’s a charm for your safety,” he said, oblivious to my internal stream of curses. “Really? I love it,” I lied, pecking him on the cheek. He kissed me back passionately, but my mind was on the check. The next morning, I woke to chatter. Raphael was already gone. Sore, I dragged myself to the window and saw a line of Rolls-Royces. Finally, it’s happening. I rushed downstairs barefoot. Out front, Raphael donned a sleek black suit, his gold-rimmed glasses, and a diamond-studded Rolex. Security surrounded him, bowing respectfully. The whole neighborhood was abuzz. Tears of joy welled up. I’d been waiting for this. Feigning shock, I yelled, “Who are you, and where are you taking my boyfriend?” A man in a suit pried me off Raphael. “Miss Keira, please. This is Mr. Parsons, heir to the Parsons Group. Here’s a check. Write any amount to thank you for caring for him.” I recognized the voice from that night. I trembled, tears streaming. Playing the part, I clung to Raphael. “Raphael, are you leaving me?”

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Mom was a quick traveler, moving from world to world with a mission and a system, wining over the hearts of the “male leads” and earning rewards. Usually, after completing a mission in one world, she would head to the next. But after winning over Dad, she chose to stay here forever. Our little family of three lived happily. But then, Dad fell for his secretary. Mom told Dad, “If you go see her again, I’m leaving.” Dad replied, “Where will you go? You have no family here.” But when Mom really left, Dad went crazy. I pushed open the bedroom door. Mom was lying quietly on the bed, as if she were asleep. I walked over and called softly, “Mom.” But she didn’t open her eyes and pull me into her embrace like she usually did. I placed my hand under her nose, but there was no breath. I knew then that my mom was gone.

Mom had told me she was a mission player. Because she successfully completed her task, she chose to stay in this world forever. She said this with a smiling face. Back then, I didn’t understand what “mission” meant, so I asked, “Mom, what’s your mission?” Mom held my small hand and said, “It’s to win over your dad, make him fall in love with me, and then have you! So, Candy, you’re Mom’s greatest gift.” She kissed my cheek gently and said she never regretted it. But later, Mom never smiled like that again. Because Dad fell for his secretary. People said that Dad would soon leave Mom and me. I angrily drove them away and hugged Mom. I thought, even if Dad didn’t want Mom, it’s okay. Mom still had me. Because she was my mom, so she would always stay with me.

Usually, Mom helped me change out of my pajamas, put on my clothes, and then took me to brush my teeth. She joked that at ten years old, I still needed her help; other kids would laugh at me. I would pout and say, “They’d just be jealous my mom takes such good care of me.” But now that Mom’s gone, I had to dress myself. When I got to the dining table, our nanny, May had breakfast ready. May asked me, “Why isn’t Mrs. up yet?” I replied, “Mom’s still sleeping.” May was the nanny Mom hired for me, paying ten years’ salary in one go, to take care of me. Before, we didn’t have a nanny. Mom took care of everything at home. She was like Superwoman. After finishing chores and putting me to bed, she would study law books in the study for an hour each night to prepare for the bar exam. Dad didn’t understand and said, “Why do you tire yourself out? I support you, wouldn’t it be nice to relax?” But Mom would gently and firmly shake her head and say, “Rex, it’s my dream.” When she said that, her eyes shone brightly. I thought she looked so beautiful then, and Dad must have thought so too. He would reach out, impulsively hug her, and nuzzle into her neck like a puppy. Mom’s face would turn red and she’d push Dad away. “Candy’s right here.” I knew Dad and Mom were about to play a game they never let me join. I wanted to ask Mom to include me this time, but when Dad’s eyes landed on me, he said, “Candy, out.” I got scared and left obediently. Most times, Dad was nice to me. But I feared that look he gave me, making me agree to things without question. After that, things got better at home. Dad encouraged Mom to study for the bar and stayed up late with her. But the day before the exam, Dad took all of Mom’s documents and locked her in a room. He only let her out after the exam was over and he returned from work with me. Mom looked at Dad with fire in her eyes. “Rex, do you know I’ve prepared for a whole year for this? Do you know how important this is to me?” Ignoring her struggles, Dad held her tightly and softly said, “Evie, I’m sorry, but it’s for our family. I just want you to be home where I can hold you whenever I want. Candy feels the same way.” As he said this, he looked at me. I remembered Dad’s words from earlier that day: “If Mom becomes a lawyer, she’ll be traveling for work and forget all about you. And if she meets someone she likes, she might leave us.” Dad’s words scared me. I didn’t want Mom to leave. So, I held Mom’s hand and said, “Mom, don’t be mad at Dad. I don’t want you to leave either.” Mom looked at me, her strength fading as she slumped into Dad’s arms. After a while, her dry voice finally made its way out. “Don’t let it happen again.” Dad smiled, satisfied. Even though things turned out as I wanted, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I had done something terribly wrong when I saw Mom’s now dimmer eyes.

After breakfast, I returned to my bedroom and closed the door, quietly watching my mom. At ten years old, I understood life and death. But I wasn’t scared. Mom had told me she traveled to this world at eighteen. In her original world, she lay in bed in a hospital, with tubes in her body. When she succeeded in her mission, the system gave her a choice: go back home or stay here. She wanted to go back to see her mom but couldn’t bear to leave Dad, and especially me, so she stayed. I asked her, “Mom, can you stay with me forever?” “Of course,” she said. I remembered those words for a long time. Now, I just gently touched her nose and whispered, “Mom, you liar.” Suddenly, the doorbell rang. I knew it wasn’t Dad; he hadn’t been home for a long time. Nora’s voice called out from outside, “Candy, open the door for Auntie. Auntie will take you home. I’ll be your mom.” I shouted back, “Go away! You’re not my mom, you’re a homewrecker!” After giving up on her law exam, Mom started focusing on taking care of Dad and me. We were happy. I thought we would always be happy. But then, Nora appeared. She was Dad’s newly hired secretary, always clumsy. Dad complained about her more often. I wondered why, if he found her so annoying, he didn’t just fire her. But he started coming home later and sometimes not at all. Nora even appeared in Dad’s social media posts. While shopping with Mom one day, we saw Dad with Nora. Mom dropped a vase she was holding. Dad looked over, his face instantly panicking before he pulled Nora’s wrist to chase after Mom. But Mom picked me up and ran, covering her mouth. That night, my parents fought. I hid behind the door, listening to Dad try to explain. He said he was only helping Nora because she was lonely and nothing was going on, treating her like a sister. Mom wasn’t buying it and coldly warned him, “If you see her again, I will leave.” Dad got angry, “Where would you go? You have no family here.” He knew Mom was a mission player. She gave up the chance to go back home for him and couldn’t leave this world. I remembered one time Dad made Mom mad, and she stormed out with her bag. I was frantic, begging Dad to go after her. But Dad just sat with his legs crossed, reading the paper, saying, “Where can she go?” That night, Mom came back with red eyes and bags of groceries. “Rex, I bought food for you guys.” She opened the takeout boxes—it was my favorite crab meat dumplings and Dad’s favorite chive wontons. I happily ate my dumplings while Mom quietly ate leftovers from last night. Suddenly, I lost my appetite. I thought, if Mom had a family to go back to, she would take the longest train or flight to get there. But her family was in another world; she had nowhere else to go. Dad banked on that to keep her in line.、

Outside, Nora knocked on the door for a while before falling silent. I thought she had left. But an hour later, I heard the lock being picked. The security camera showed a stranger. I got scared. Mom always said that if a stranger came when kids were home alone, they should find an adult. I couldn’t get Mom, so I ran to the kitchen to find May. “May, there’s someone outside, and I don’t know them.” May grabbed a kitchen knife, swallowing nervously. She stood by the door with me. When the lock finally clicked open, Nora stood there smiling and handed the locksmith $20. “Thank you, sir.” May said, “Miss Nora, how could you do this?” Nora replied, “Candy, your dad sent me to take you home. But you wouldn’t see me, so I had no other choice.” She reached out to grab me. I bit her hand hard and shouted, “I won’t go with you! Forget it!” Nora screamed, and I tasted blood in my mouth before I let go. She shoved me to the ground angrily and stormed out. My hand got scraped on the floor, and it started bleeding. May quickly brought the first-aid kit. As she bandaged my hand, I couldn’t help but say, “Mom, it hurts.” But my mom couldn’t hear me anymore. She used to spend time with Dad and me every day. Now she was gone, and I finally understood what missing someone felt like. I remembered when I was six, and Dad took us back to his hometown for a family gathering. The house was packed with Dad’s relatives: uncles, aunts, grandparents… so many people. But Mom and I were alone. That day, Mom cooked an entire feast by herself. Even when we sat to eat, she was still bustling in the kitchen. Uncle and Dad’s brother praised Dad, “You found an amazing and hardworking wife.” Dad smiled proudly. Mom, wiping flour off her forehead and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, smiled shyly. By the time she sat down to eat, most of the food was gone. I told her I was tired, so she quickly finished a few bites and took me upstairs. But at the staircase, she stopped and looked back. I did too, curious. Grandpa and Grandma were handing out red envelopes, uncles and Dad were talking about work, and the aunts were playing cards. They were all with family. Mom stared for a long time. I tugged at her hand and asked, “Mom, what’s wrong?” She snapped out of it and looked at me. Amidst the noise and lights, her eyes were filled with sadness. “Yaya, what do you think my mom is doing right now?” Turns out, my mom missed her mom too.

After May finished bandaging my hand, she glanced at Mom’s room and frowned. “It’s almost dark. Why isn’t Mrs. up yet?” I replied, “Mom’s really tired. Let her sleep a bit more.” May sighed, “It’s been days, and Mr. hasn’t even come to check on us.” Dad hadn’t been home in a long time. He once said he was on a business trip, but he was actually on vacation with Nora. Nora had flaunted those photos in front of Mom, telling her to divorce Dad and give up her spot. Mom’s eyes filled with tears when she saw the photos. She had wanted to visit that place for a long time and had asked Dad to take her, but he was always busy. Now he had taken Nora instead. Mom showed Dad the photos. Instantly, Dad’s face changed. He claimed they were photoshopped, saying they didn’t count. Mom’s eyes filled with sorrow. “Rex, what did you promise me when we got married? That you’d only love me and be good to me. Otherwise, why would I stay here?” Dad retorted, “Haven’t I been good to you? A million-dollar house, diamond rings, designer clothes—you asked for them, and I gave them.” Mom shook her head, whispering, “We just can’t communicate.” She threw Dad’s clothes and shoes out of the house. He, feeling humiliated, said he wouldn’t come back. And from that day, he really didn’t. Soon, Nora’s house caught fire, so she moved in with Dad. Mom didn’t cry when she heard. She just hugged me gently. “Now I understand that people’s hearts and love can change, and promises only matter when they are made,” Mom said softly. “But it’s too late to regret now.” 8 That night, I brushed my teeth by myself and used a towel to clean my small body. Then, I climbed into bed and hugged Mom. Even though her body was stiff and cold, as long as she lay there, I felt happy. I once asked, “Mom, what kind of person is your mom?” Mom never talked about her dad, and her mom was her only relative. “Mom was strict. She would hit and scold me when I didn’t do my homework,” she said. I frowned, not understanding why she would miss someone like that. Sometimes Mom had nightmares and called out for “Mom,” not Dad. Mom’s voice changed as she continued, “But when I was diagnosed with leukemia at sixteen, Mom never got angry again. She quit her job, sold the house, and took care of me every day.” “My mom loved me a lot,” she said with a mix of pride and sadness. I realized Mom never forgot her mother. When she traveled to this world at eighteen, she was still just a girl. One day, I found Mom crying secretly by the window after learning Dad was on vacation with Nora. She said she shouldn’t have let love cloud her judgment, giving up everything, including her mom, whom she could never see again. 9 Mom had asked Dad for a divorce. A month after he moved out, she invited him back home. Dad showed up in a black suit with his hair slicked back, looking more handsome than ever. That day, Mom cooked a big meal. Dad smugly said, “Changed your mind?” I sat at the table, excited, hoping they would reconcile. But Mom put down her chopsticks and said, “Rex, let’s get a divorce.” I knew what divorce meant—Dad and Mom would be separated forever, and we’d rarely be together. Dad’s expression changed instantly. “Evie, you’re making a big deal out of nothing! I won’t do anything with Nora. I still love you. Why can’t you be more understanding?” Mom said, “To me, this isn’t a small issue. You broke your promise and betrayed our love. How can I be understanding?” Dad, looking worried, angrily said, “If we divorce, where will you go? Who do you know here besides Candy and me?” Mom, choking up, replied, “If I don’t know anyone, I’ll meet new people. If I run out of money, I’ll wash dishes and mop floors. I can take care of Candy by myself.” Dad sneered, “Go ahead and try.” He turned and left in a hurry. In the following days, Mom sent out many job applications, but they were all rejected. She kept applying, hundreds, thousands of times. Until a kind person told her: “Miss Bailey, Mr. Rex has made it known that no one should hire you.” Soon, a lawyer came with documents for Mom. “What’s this?” Mom asked. “It’s a comparison of you and Mr. Rex’s assets,” the lawyer explained. “If you go to court for custody, unfortunately, you won’t have much chance.” Mom turned pale. I clung to her shirt, petrified. Shortly afterward, Dad’s relatives showed up, surrounding Mom with interrogation-like questions. “With Rex’s great conditions, you still want to divorce? You won’t get a better chance.” “Ungrateful. What does Rex even see in her?” Mom, coldly, said, “Stop trying to convince me. I’m divorcing him.” One softened their tone, “Evie, think about the child. How upset she’d be if she knew her parents were divorcing.” Mom looked momentarily moved. The group quickly said: “Yes, the child needs a healthy childhood.” “Everything for the kid. What’s so hard to bear?” Someone pushed me towards Mom, smiling, “Candy, do you want your parents to divorce? If they do, you’ll be without a mom.” Tears welled in my eyes. I hugged Mom tightly, scared, “Mom, please don’t leave Dad. Candy can’t bear losing you.” Mom, eyes filled with unshed tears, said softly, “Alright.” Her voice was like a sigh. Mom gave up. I thought this meant she’d stay forever. But little did I know some birds can’t be caged—their very feathers shine with freedom.

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After Edward’s undercover work ended, it felt like he had become a different person. He would often stare blankly out of the window, with sadness and melancholy in his eyes. He no longer lifted our daughter up and twirled her around, calling her “baby.” He stopped bringing flowers home after work, and he even avoided my affectionate gestures. Later, on the day our daughter Doris was hit by a car, I saw him tenderly kissing another woman in the rain. I was in a meeting when I received the news about Doris’s accident. When I heard the words “died on the spot,” I froze. I rushed to the funeral home like a madwoman, finding Doris’s contorted body lying on a cold table. The yellow dress I personally put on her that morning became her burial clothing. Chaos surrounded me—some people tried to console me, others were interrogating, and the truck driver was hurriedly explaining, “It was your daughter who ran the red light. It’s not my fault!” I collapsed to the ground, desperately yelling, “How could she run a red light? Where is her father? Where is her father?” “Mrs. Jane, your daughter was alone when she got off the bus. We didn’t see any accompanying adult,” a police officer told me. I had always taken Doris to her piano lessons, but this one time, she asked for her daddy to take her. Ever since Edward came back from his year-long assignment, his attitude towards us had become cold and distant. He liked to be alone, avoided eye contact with me, often made excuses to sit in the car and smoke, and even got irritated with Doris’s playful requests. Our beloved daughter couldn’t understand why her dad had changed. Innocently, she just wanted to mend their relationship. I agreed, sending the two of them off before heading to my meeting. I never imagined that this one time would cost Doris her life. I called Edward repeatedly, only to be met with busy signals. My own parents were far away, and with my mother-in-law gravely ill, I was left to face this devastating blow alone. Finally, under my signature, Doris was reduced to a small box of ashes. Holding her ashes, I walked back to the neighborhood like a zombie, only to find Edward. He was in the rain, gently lifting the face of another woman and kissing her deeply. The woman was petite, nestled softly in Edward’s arms. They kissed for so long that even I, as an onlooker, had not noticed. Doris’s tragic demise flashed through my mind, juxtaposed with the scene before me. It was almost laughable. At this moment, I didn’t know whether to feel anger or sorrow. I didn’t even have the energy to question or rage; I just stood there, empty-headed. I should have seen it coming. Given Edward’s unique job, I had always known I’d have to manage the household independently when I married him. For seven years, I worked during the day and tended to my ailing mother-in-law at night. I single-handedly set up our new home, carrying tiles up six flights of stairs to save a few hundred dollars. When I got pregnant, I fainted from vomiting in the bathroom and lay there for seven or eight hours before anyone discovered me. I attended prenatal appointments alone, feeling out of place among couples. My water broke in the middle of the night, but I took a cab to the hospital by myself and signed the necessary papers alone. When I was sad, he wasn’t there. When I was happy, he still wasn’t. I was like a lone ranger; many asked where my husband was, but due to confidentiality, I would brush them off, making me seem like a pitiful widow.

I always believed my sacrifices were worth it because he loved his job, and I loved him. We had happy times too. When he wasn’t busy, he’d travel two hours just to get a cake for me. He’d come home with a bouquet of roses, stay up all night to care for the newborn Doris, change diapers, feed her, and do household chores. He loved holding my face, pressing his forehead against mine, and saying, “Jane, thank you. Without you, we wouldn’t have this family. I will always love you.” Then he went on that year-long assignment. I didn’t know what he was doing, but once, I ran into him selling seafood at a market. I pretended we were strangers and walked past him. After that, we had no contact for a year. When he returned, he was like a different person. He could go the whole day without speaking a word and showed no concern for our household. It was like a stranger sleeping next to me. I tried to mend our relationship, but Edward found excuses to avoid me. He eventually looked at me with a strange expression and sarcastically said, “I never realized before how much you crave intimacy.” Now, I finally understood our problem. I stood there for a long time before the woman noticed me. She seemed flustered, pushing Edward away and nervously shrinking into his arms. Edward’s face showed a rare hint of panic. He instinctively shielded the woman before quickly calming down and said, “Jane, she’s innocent. Don’t take your anger out on her. I’ll come home and explain.” “No need.” I coldly looked at the man I once loved deeply and asked, “I asked you to take Doris to her piano lesson. Where did you go?” “I got a work call and couldn’t leave. I watched her get on the bus. It was only a couple of blocks after getting off. She’s four; she knows the way.” Edward explained. Grief made me double over, barely able to stand. Tears mixed with rainwater streamed down my face. Doris was only four years old. He let a four-year-old girl take a half-hour bus ride alone and then walk another kilometer to her lesson. He knew better than anyone how dangerous the world could be, yet he neglected his own daughter. “Is this ‘work’ you mentioned just making out with her?” I raised my voice, pointing at the girl in his arms. She looked young, possibly still in college, and she bit her lip nervously, trembling. Edward instinctively comforted her before looking at me with impatience. “Jane, stop scaring her. Try to understand the demands of my job, you used to be reasonable…” I couldn’t hold it in any longer and slapped him hard. The girl screamed and reached out to touch Edward’s cheek, her face full of concern. “We’re getting a divorce.” With that, I walked away without looking back. Two hours later, Edward came back. Seeing that I had packed up most of the house, he frowned deeply. “I’m exhausted. Can you stop acting like a child throwing a tantrum?” “You think this is a tantrum?” I was too tired to argue, just staring coldly at him.

“Edward, do you even care about this family? If you did, Doris wouldn’t have…” “Michelle started out as just a friend,” Edward interrupted me roughly. He was silent for a long time before slowly beginning to talk about the other woman. “This past year, she’s been there for me, doing everything for me.” As he spoke, his expression softened. Edward described Michelle as a foolish girl who knew he had a family but still loved him steadfastly. He said she had a hero complex and had risked her life to save him several times. He said she was carefree, liked to wear short skirts, and frequently had wardrobe malfunctions, but she would complain that he was too controlling. He talked about their countless nights huddled together for warmth, holding hands and leaning against each other, feeling like he was ten years younger. In the end, he said, “I know our relationship has gone beyond friendship. Give me time, and I’ll forget her and live properly with you.” Edward closed his eyes, looking pained. “She’s young and naive, but I can’t be. I’ve already wasted a year of her life. I can’t keep holding her back.” I could barely breathe. Edward knew what he was saying. He was telling his wife about his romance with another woman. It felt like I was the third party, forcing him to abandon his true love for family duty. Edward remembered her sacrifices for him, but what about mine? Did my seven years of love and dedication mean nothing? After a long pause, I regained my composure. “I’ll give you freedom instead.” I grabbed my suitcase and pushed past him, heading downstairs. Edward grabbed my hand, his eyes pleading. “Jane, I promise, today was my last meeting with her. I still love you. I want to give Doris a complete family…” “Don’t mention Doris!” I lost control, hurling my bag at him. Sharp decorations cut his face and neck, causing blood to flow. He stood there, stunned. I didn’t look back and left. I rented an apartment near my office, contacted a lawyer, and started packing up, arranging my daughter’s funeral. While I was busy, the hospital called. “Jane, your mother-in-law Alice has taken a turn for the worse. Please come quickly…” I grabbed my bag and rushed out. Alice had terminal cancer. After marrying Edward, I had taken it upon myself to care for her. I did everything except bear the pain of her illness. Over seven years, I spent at least four nights a week at the hospital. Only these past few days, overwhelmed by Doris’s situation, did I forget about Alice in the hospital. Rushing in, I didn’t expect to find Michelle chatting happily with Alice. She wasn’t wearing the short skirts Edward mentioned but was dressed modestly in long sleeves and pants, looking clean and respectable. Anyone would find her likable. Alice and Michelle seemed very close, talking like mother and daughter. “Alice…” I croaked. Alice quickly waved me over to introduce me. “Jane, this is Edward’s coworker’s sister. Did he mention her?” Michelle looked nervous when she saw me, standing up from her chair. She stammered, “We’ve met…” Not responding, I watched Michelle’s eyes redden as she lowered her head and ran out, bumping into Edward coming in. She seemed relieved, grabbing his sleeve and hiding behind him, looking at me. Edward held a medical report, frowning at me. “Jane, you can be mad at me, but my mom did nothing to you. Is this how you’ve been taking care of her?” He threw the report at me, words like “critical condition” and “organ failure” glaring back at me. Before I could respond, Alice shouted, “Shut up!” “If not for Jane, I’d have died in the hospital long ago. You, who I barely see twice a year, have no right to say anything about Jane!”

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I’ve been in a relationship with a younger guy for three years now. This morning, I woke up and, like always, tried to kiss him and say good morning. But he moved away instinctively, looking somewhat disgusted. He’s just turned 21, still in college, and already he’s pushing me away. He got up, grabbed his phone, and went straight to the bathroom. Moments later, I could hear sounds of him pleasuring himself. My heart shattered. I sat there on the bed, stunned, listening to him in the bathroom. Watching as Adam picked out his clothes, sprayed on some cologne, checked himself out in the mirror, and then hurried off to school. Not once did he look at me. I picked up Adam’s iPad from the nightstand and glanced through his chat history with a lingerie store salesperson. Salesperson: It’s been a while since you last shopped with us. We have some new items in stock. Adam: Not interested anymore. I’m not into her at all now. I’m just 21, and she’s already 35, nearly 36. Her wrinkles gross me out, I can’t get it up. Salesperson: … Salesperson: Really? You used to buy from us frequently. You said you loved your girlfriend. Adam: I felt something for her because she was easygoing and took care of me. She always made up first when we argued. Now, it’s just pointless. Being with her doesn’t feel like a relationship. When I find someone young and cute, I’ll shop with you again. I scratched my head and laughed at myself. I’d seen this chat last night, but I still tried to test him. He’s fallen out of love with me. He’s repulsed by my aging. His ideal girl is probably the one whose photos he looks at before heading to the bathroom. I fell back onto the bed, surprised that I didn’t shed a tear. For a woman my age, crying and breaking down just isn’t dignified.

I got up and started my morning routine. By noon, I began to receive birthday emails from various brand websites where I’m subscribed. That’s when I remembered—it’s my birthday today. I stared blankly at the withered roses on the coffee table, recalling how three years ago today, it was 18-year-old Adam who first confessed his love to me. Back then, Adam had just started college and was being bullied while working part-time at my company. I helped him out. He looked at me with idolizing eyes, following me everywhere. I found it annoying and ended up having him help me with work directly. The Adam of that time was innocent and sincere. He would steal glances at me, and when I looked back, he’d quickly turn away, his ears slowly turning red. When other boys in the part-time job tried to win me over, Adam would get anxious, sticking close to me like a wolf guarding its territory. Occasionally, when our bodies accidentally brushed, he’d blush shyly. On my 32nd birthday, he showed up with a huge bouquet of my favorite roses and a birthday cake. The bashful yet determined look in his eyes, he said he loved me. I told him we had a big age gap and needed to think about it. Adam was filled with unease for those few days. When I finally said yes, he shouted in excitement. He hugged me tightly, his deep voice in my ear, “Every birthday of yours from now on will be our anniversary, and I’ll always be there.” My phone kept buzzing with birthday wishes from family, friends, and even colleagues. But not a single message from Adam. I got up and threw the wilted flowers from the vase into the trash. Things that have gone bad shouldn’t be kept. That applies to both flowers and people.

I got ready and went to work. Everything changes, but the effort I put into my work and my bank balance remain constant. Late that night, my assistant handed me a box. “Serena, I almost forgot! Here’s that Apple phone you wanted me to get.” She checked her watch and smiled, “It’s still 11:55, so we made it. Happy birthday, Serena!” I smiled back and took the box, a bitter smile tugging at my lips. Still, no word from Adam. To him, today was just another day. This phone wasn’t meant as my birthday gift. It was supposed to be for our third anniversary. Before leaving work, I texted Adam. “Come home early after school tomorrow. I want to talk to you.” “Anything you want for dinner?” After a while, he replied, “Whatever.”

I sat in the car all night, staring at Adam’s “Whatever” text. Scrolling up, I saw just how many more messages I sent compared to him, including all the money I transferred to him. Most of my messages were about what he wanted to eat, where he wanted to go, or me sharing news about my day. Adam either responded with “Whatever” or not at all. Scrolling further up, I saw that for the past six months, almost every conversation was one-sided, with me talking and him barely responding. I sighed softly. His indifference to me was painfully clear. I watched as the night turned into sunrise. Once Adam left for school, I returned to our apartment near his campus, where we lived together after we started dating. Clothes were strewn carelessly on the sofa. I threw them into the washing machine and then started preparing dinner. Lost in thought, I accidentally cut my finger. Blood quickly pooled on the floor. When Adam came home, I was holding a tissue tightly around my finger. He didn’t look at me, only glanced at the table and frowned. He sat down without a second thought, picking through the food disdainfully. To him, maybe I was like the meal, becoming tiresome. “Adam…” Adam responded with a distracted “Yeah,” while still texting on his phone, a pleased smile on his face. “I need to go out,” I said, feeling a mixture of anger and sadness as I looked at my bleeding finger, tears beginning to well up. “Adam…” All I wanted was for him to look at me. But all I got was another careless “Yeah.” I sniffed, wiping my eyes before heading to the pharmacy downstairs. The young girl there looked alarmed. “The cut’s deep. Let me wrap it up, but you really should see a doctor.” I shook my head and left. Back at home, as I pushed open the door, a sickly sweet “Adam, you’re amazing” echoed in the living room. Adam quickly paused the voice message, awkwardly looking up. “Where’s my blue shirt? I want to wear it tomorrow.” He then continued eating as if nothing happened. In the mirror at the entrance, I saw my swollen eyes and pale face. Tears threatened to spill, a wave of sadness washing over me. Taking a deep breath, I composed myself and sat down across from Adam. “Yesterday was our three-year anniversary. Do you want a gift?” His phone kept buzzing with messages from “sweet pie,” probably the young girl he fancied. Adam flipped his phone face-down, irritation in his voice, “I don’t know. Nothing, I guess.” I took out the phone box. “I got you something. The latest Apple phone you’ve been wanting.” Adam’s eyes lit up, but just as he reached for it, my phone rang. In the silent room, my mom’s voice was loud and clear. “You’re almost 40. I’ve introduced you to some good prospects. If you don’t plan on marrying, what is it you want? You keep saying you have a boyfriend, but I’ve never even seen him!” Instinctively, I looked at Adam. He lowered his eyes, looking guilty. After a few curt responses, I hung up the call. Adam had pushed the phone box back to me, looking resigned. Taking the box, I smiled. “If you don’t want it, forget it. Are you full? This dinner was for our anniversary, and it’s also our last meal together.” Looking into his eyes, I said calmly, “Adam, let’s break up.”

Adam froze, then sighed in relief. “Okay.” His answer was firm, almost like he feared I’d change my mind. He looked me in the eyes, guilt mixed in his voice: “I’m not in love with you anymore. I never planned on marrying you.” “You can think I’m an asshole, but it’s the truth.” “Sorry.” I lowered my gaze, not wanting to look at him. When we first got together, I had asked Adam, “I’m 14 years older than you. I’ll get old quickly, and you won’t love me then.” Back then, Adam would smile and pull me into his arms, kissing my forehead. “They say loved women don’t age. I’ll tell you I love you a thousand times a day, and you’ll never get old.” That day on, Adam always said he loved me. Once he stopped saying it daily, I knew I’d grown old in his eyes. The same Adam who used to say “I love you” all the time now easily says he doesn’t love me, for the sake of a breakup. I found it almost funny. Calmly, I nodded, “It’s over.” Adam looked surprised at my calmness.

Our breakup was oddly peaceful. Adam awkwardly grabbed a suitcase, planning to pack his things, but soon walked out empty-handed. From the couch, where I sat, I almost laughed. Most of the stuff here was bought by me for him. What did he have to pack? He shot me a quick glance, murmured, “I’m leaving,” and bolted out of the apartment like he was finally free. The room was filled with traces of Adam, from the gaming computer to the socks in the drawer. There were debate scripts I helped him write when he participated in school competitions, and PowerPoint slides I stayed up all night to make for his student council. Even the clothes I bought for him. I remembered the time he forgot his USB drive at home, and I rushed over to his school to deliver it. He snapped at me, “Why did you come here?” He grabbed the USB and walked off, while his friends chuckled and one waved, saying, “Bye, Nanny!” Annoyed, I grabbed some trash bags and tossed all the junk inside. After cleaning, the apartment felt empty. Exhausted, I collapsed on the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. The ticking of the clock was deafening in the silence. I picked up my phone. Adam’s Instagram had a new update. “I am finally free. Ending the wrong to find the right.” And just moments ago, at 2 AM, he had another post: “Can’t sleep.” He must be struggling with dorm life. When he complained about noisy roommates and the hard dorm bed, I got him this apartment. Lost in thought, my phone vibrated with notifications from Adam’s secondary credit card. I froze his card immediately. With that done, fatigue washed over me. Rolling over, I fell into a deep sleep.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “294577”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #玄幻Fantsy #狼人werewolf #擦边Steamy #励志Inspiring #现实主义Realistic #校园School #后宫Harem