Author: Momo Chan

The day I found out I was pregnant, my husband Brandon’s secretary, Jenna, posted a photo of her baby bump on Instagram. The caption read, [As long as you’re loved, you can still be a beautiful girl–even when you’re pregnant!] In the picture, she was wearing nothing but lace lingerie, leaning into Brandon’s chest while they took a selfie. His hand was resting on her bare, swollen belly. On his finger was the exact same wedding ring as mine. I commented, [Congrats.] Seconds later, my phone rang. Jenna was on the other end, frantic. She apologized, claiming she posted the picture to get back at her boyfriend after a fight. Brandon grabbed her phone and snapped at me, “You can’t have a baby, so now you’re losing it seeing someone else pregnant? No wonder you can’t get pregnant with all that jealousy.” Five minutes later, Jenna posted again: [Soon, I’ll have two strong men protecting me!] And Brandon liked it immediately. I took off my wedding ring, tossed it into some bushes, and headed back to the hospital to schedule an abortion. For once, Brandon made it home before 9 p.m. He noticed the untouched fertility meds in the trash and frowned. “Throwing a tantrum over something so small?” I kept my voice steady. “I’m not angry.” He laughed mockingly. “You threw away your fertility meds, but sure, you’re not mad. Do whatever you want. But remember, you’re the one who’s desperate, not me.” I was about to show him my pregnancy report when he handed me a dark shoebox. “This is from Jen. She’s young, and doesn’t know any better. She freaked out when she saw you upset and said something as dumb as talking about abortion. She wanted to send you a gift to apologize.” He opened the box. Inside was a pair of YSL heels. But they were obviously Jenna’s. The soles were worn, and the paint on the heel was chipped. “Take them. They weren’t cheap, and she barely wore them. She’s only been working for a short time, so she doesn’t have much. But giving you these shoes really hurt her,” Brandon said. I let out a dry laugh. Thirty minutes before he got home, Jenna had posted on Instagram, flaunting her brand-new Chanel sandals with the caption: “To the best boss in the world! Thanks for your obvious favoritism–it gives me the confidence to show off!” When I didn’t take the shoes, Brandon’s expression hardened. “Sylvia, what’s your problem? You’re almost 30, and you’re still giving a young girl a hard time? Is this really necessary?” He threw the box at me, hitting me square on the head. I groaned, grabbing my forehead as tears filled my eyes. Brandon looked alarmed. “I didn’t mean to do that. Let me see.” I pulled away as he reached out. “I’m fine,” I muttered. Ignoring me, he pried my fingers away from my forehead, seeing the swelling. His face darkened. “This doesn’t look fine. Stay here. I’ll get some ice.” Before I could stop him, his phone rang. The screen lit up, showing the caller ID: “Little Trouble,” dripping with affection. “Brandon!” Jenna’s voice came through. Hearing her whimpering, Brandon tensed. “Jen, don’t cry. What’s wrong?” “I have a stomachache,” Jenna sniffled. “I want to go to the ER, but I got on the wrong subway and I don’t even know where I am.” Brandon frowned. “Why didn’t you call me when you decided to go to the hospital? We agreed I’d drive you.” Jenna’s voice was timid. “I was dumb again today and made Sylvia mad. I didn’t want to bother you both.” Brandon’s tone turned serious. “Jen, you’re pregnant. Nothing is more important than that. Send me your location on WhatsApp, and I’ll come get you.” “No! Brandon, I can get to the hospital on my own, really. Don’t forget, today’s Sylvia’s ovulation day. You need to stay with her and make sure you two have a baby!” Brandon chuckled. “Silly girl, one more time with her isn’t going to magically get her pregnant. You’re what matters right now. Send me your location.” He hung up the phone and gave me an exasperated look. “Did you hear that? Jen’s so concerned about you, and all you can do is act paranoid. I’m taking her to the hospital. I’ll grab some ice packs for you on the way back.” He snatched his car keys, ready to head out. “Brandon, wait,” I called out. He spun around, clearly at the end of his patience. “Sylvia, can you stop? This is about two lives–hers and the baby’s! Don’t turn this into some jealous tantrum.” I didn’t bother trying to defend myself. Instead, I walked over to the coat closet, grabbed the jacket he’d worn a few days ago, and pulled out a card. “Jenna’s insurance card. You’ll need it.” Jenna never bothered with handling her own appointments; Brandon always kept her insurance card. For a second, Brandon looked surprised. Then he finally reached out and took it. “Thanks.” He looked like he wanted to say something more, but I cut him off. “Drive safe.” I reached up and straightened his collar, just like I always did when he left. Deep down, I knew this would be the last time. Brandon’s expression softened slightly like something in him had shifted. He grasped my hand and pulled me closer to his chest. “I’ll be back soon. Wait for me.”

I didn’t wait. After sending a quick text to my lawyer about starting the divorce process, I went to bed early. In the middle of the night, a notification from WhatsApp woke me up. It was 1 a.m., and as expected, the other side of the bed was still empty. I checked my phone and saw several messages from Jenna. [Brandon is just so hot!] [I wanna eat him up while he’s sleeping!] Attached was a photo of Brandon asleep. His head rested on her pink cartoon pillow, his hair tousled, lips slightly parted in a way that once made my heart skip a beat. When she saw the “typing…” indicator appear at the top of the chat, Jenna quickly deleted the messages and sent me an emoji of a cat begging for forgiveness. [Oops! Meant to send those to my bestie, but accidentally sent them to you. I was just messing around–don’t be mad! Brandon’s already knocked out.] She probably expected me to blow up her phone with angry calls, like I had before. But this time, I just blocked her and went back to sleep. Whether she was playing games or being serious didn’t matter anymore. The next morning, they showed up at work together. Jenna, always trying to be delicate, tripped over her own feet, her face going pale with fear. Without hesitation, Brandon scooped her up and carried her into the office. Her cheeks flushed, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, glancing back at me with a smug grin. One of my coworkers sidled up to me, whispering, “Can you believe that girl? Jenna doesn’t even know how to work the copier, let alone anything else. How has she been Mr. Louis’s secretary for half a year? You don’t think he’s, like, actually into her, do you?” I was busy texting my lawyer and nodded absentmindedly. “Maybe.” As soon as the words left my mouth, I heard Brandon’s voice. “Sylvia, come with me.” I turned around to find him standing right behind me, his eyes cold and unfeeling. No one in the office knew we were married. Brandon was adamant about enforcing the company’s no-office-romance policy, so to everyone else, I was just another senior employee. At work, he always kept his distance. Once, when I had a 104-degree fever and could barely stand, I went to him, hoping he’d take me to the hospital. But he brushed me off, worried about what people might think, and told me to get HR to give me the day off. Yet, if Jenna so much as whispered about a stomach ache, Brandon would cancel meetings and rush her to the doctor. I followed him into his office, watching as he gently told Jenna to go rest in the back room. Once we were alone, Brandon came over and grabbed my hand, his voice low. “Still mad?” I pulled my hand away, keeping my tone distant. “I told you, I’m not mad.” He placed his hands on my shoulders, his eyes drilling into mine. “Don’t lie to me. I didn’t come home last night, and you didn’t even call or text. And you expect me to believe you’re not upset?” I frowned, confused. “Jenna was with you, right? She’s your secretary. She’d take care of you.” His expression darkened, and his grip on my shoulders tightened. I winced from the pressure and tried to pull away. In the struggle, he shoved me onto the couch. As I pushed myself up, my hand brushed against something. I tugged at it and pulled a pink lace bra from between the cushions. The anger drained from Brandon’s face as soon as he saw it. “That’s…” I didn’t care to hear his explanation. I tossed the bra back onto the couch, my voice calm. “If there’s nothing else, I’ll be going, Mr. Louis.” After work, I had a meeting with a client. Just as I stepped outside, Brandon’s car pulled up in front of me. “Get in. We’ll drop Jen off first, then head to that seafood buffet by the water.” Jenna poked her head out from the passenger seat, grinning. “Sorry, Sylvia, I’m hitching a ride again!” I was busy trying to hail a cab, and without looking at her, I said, “You two go ahead. I’m allergic to seafood.” Brandon’s face turned dark immediately. He knew I wasn’t allergic to seafood. In fact, that buffet was one of my favorites. He opened his mouth, ready to say something, but I didn’t give him a chance. I walked around his car and got into a cab across the street.

What I didn’t expect was for Brandon and Jenna to follow me to the restaurant. My client hadn’t arrived yet, but the two of them sat down across from me like it was perfectly normal. I stared at them in disbelief before cutting straight to the point. “I’m meeting with Mr. Anderson from Gem Technologies.” Brandon raised an eyebrow. “Did Mr. Anderson say he didn’t want to see me?” I kept quiet and didn’t argue. After all, Brandon was still my boss. During the meal, Johnson Anderson instructed his assistant to open a bottle of expensive wine. I frowned, remembering what the doctor said when I scheduled the abortion. “You’ve already had one miscarriage from the car accident, and your uterus was severely damaged. The fact that you’re pregnant again is a miracle. If you lose this baby, you may never get another chance.” I pressed my lips together, about to politely decline the wine when Jenna chimed in with a sweet smile. “I’ve heard Sylvia can really hold her liquor. Can’t wait to see it in action!” She looked wide-eyed and innocent like she had no idea what she was doing. My expression went cold as I asked her, “Who told you that?” Jenna’s smile froze, and she glanced nervously at Brandon. “Did I say something wrong again?” Brandon patted her on the head and turned to me, his tone icy. “Sylvia, it’s just a glass of wine. Don’t make a big deal out of it.” A chill crept through me. Meeting his indifferent gaze, I forced a smile and spoke clearly. “Mr. Louis, I can’t drink. Because I’m pregnant.” Everyone at the table froze. Jenna was the first to recover. She quickly masked the look in her eyes, standing up to raise her glass to me. “Congratulations, Sylvia!” As she brought the glass to her lips, Brandon immediately stopped her. “Jen, you’re pregnant too. No drinking.” For once, Jenna didn’t listen. “No, I have to! Ever since I joined the company, I’ve upset Sylvia so many times. This drink is my apology!” She grew more emotional with each word, tilting her head back and downing the wine in one go. Her face flushed red instantly, and she started coughing violently, tears welling up in her eyes. Brandon’s face twisted in frustration as he shot up from his seat, pointing at me. “Is this what you wanted? Only someone as gullible as Jen would fall for your lies! If anything happens to our baby because of you, I’ll never forgive you!” I barely looked at him, my voice flat. “Do whatever you want.” I turned to Johnson, muttering a quick apology before heading out the door. Brandon’s voice followed me, full of anger. “Sylvia, I’ve had it with you! You’ve got a problem with everything Jen does. If you can’t deal with her, maybe we should just get a divorce!” That caught me off guard for a second, but I quickly shrugged it off. We’d been married five years, and in all that time, he never once made our relationship public. Now, just to make me back down to Jenna, he was finally admitting it. I stared at his face, handsome but distorted with fury, and nodded. “Alright. Let’s get divorced.” Without another word, I walked out. After leaving the hotel, I called my divorce lawyer. Mid-conversation, a sudden blinding light flashed in front of me. A car was speeding straight toward me, out of control. Panic shot through me, my legs went weak, and I stumbled backward. Just when I thought it was over, the driver slammed the brakes, swerved, and sped off. I was left sitting on the ground, shaken. A girl passing by rushed over to help me. Her hand barely touched my waist when she gasped. “Oh my God! You’re bleeding so much!” I looked down in a daze, finally noticing the large pool of blood spreading around me. At the hospital, the doctor asked me to contact a family member. I clutched my phone, staring at Brandon’s number for a long moment, before deciding to call my lawyer instead. I couldn’t forget the license plate on that car–it was the same as Brandon’s. We’d chosen that number together.   I stayed in the hospital until noon the next day. While I was there, Brandon sent me one message: Jen’s ceiling is leaking, so I’m taking her back to our place. I knew right away it wasn’t from him–it had Jenna’s fingerprints all over it. When I got home, the door code didn’t work. As I was about to try again, the door opened from the inside. Jenna stood there in my apron, smiling brightly. “Sylvia, you’re finally home! The old code was too hard for me to remember, so Brandon changed it to my birthday. Come in, I’ll get you some water!” She welcomed me like she owned the place. The smell of food drifted in from the kitchen. She ran to the doorway and called out, “Brandon, Sylvia’s back!” Brandon stepped out, wearing the same couple’s apron I’d bought for him. He used to say it was too childish and refused to wear it. Now that I saw him in it, I thought he looked ridiculous. He glanced at me briefly and said softly to Jenna, “Go rest in the bedroom for a bit.” Jenna nodded, grabbed a bag of nuts and snacks, and disappeared into my bedroom. It was just me and Brandon now. His expression hardened. “So, you finally decided to come home?” I ignored the accusation in his tone and asked calmly, “Jenna… is eating nuts?” I remembered when Jenna first got pregnant. I’d made her a special meal, and I’d sprinkled a few nuts on it. She’d had a severe allergic reaction, and Brandon had lost it on me. Brandon frowned, clearly confused. “What are you talking about?” It was obvious he didn’t remember. I wasn’t about to explain it. “Never mind.” He didn’t push, just looked me over. “Anyway, go freshen up. It’s Jen’s birthday, and I’ve booked a private room at the karaoke bar. Just keep it light on the makeup, okay? Don’t outshine the birthday girl.” I shot back without thinking, “I’m busy. You guys go ahead.” Brandon frowned, irritation flickering in his eyes. “Jen already told her friends we’re throwing her a birthday party. If you don’t show up, it’ll be embarrassing for her. Look, I know you’re feeling jealous because she’s young and can have kids, but it’s not Jen’s fault you can’t get pregnant. Why keep competing with her? Here’s the deal: you celebrate her birthday tonight, and I’ll grant you a wish later. You can pick anywhere you want to travel.” I hesitated for a moment, then smiled and said, “Okay.” That evening, I put on my best makeup and arrived at the KTV room right on time. When Brandon spotted me, he was momentarily speechless. He walked over and took my hand, looking a little awestruck. Jenna’s expression shifted slightly, but she quickly regained her composure and introduced me to her friends, acting all graceful and charming. Her long-distance boyfriend lounged in the corner, lazily blowing smoke rings as if he were the king of the room. A waiter wheeled in the three-tier cake Brandon had ordered for her, and the atmosphere buzzed with excitement. As she made her wishes, Jenna clasped her hands together, her smile radiant and serene, like a princess. “I have three wishes! First, Brandon can’t call me a little troublemaker anymore!” “Second, Brandon can’t ignore Sylvia because of me!” “Third, I wish I could pass my easy-pregnancy genes to Sylvia so she can have a baby for my brother soon!” Just as she finished speaking, my bag slipped from my hand, and a piece of paper tumbled out. Brandon picked it up, and when he saw the words “Post-Abortion Care Instructions” printed on it, his face went pale. “Sylvia, what’s this?”

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Five months after I, Maisie Stewart, gave birth, my husband Eric Crawford suddenly asked me for a divorce. His attitude was unusually resolute—he was even willing to give up his share of our assets. Just as I was on the verge of an emotional breakdown, I witnessed him walking out of a hotel with someone, their demeanor intimate and suggestive. I recognized that person. He was the only groomsman at my Christmas wedding.

My neighbor across the hall, who’s obsessed with spaghetti, is an incredibly charming and beautiful woman. Every man in the building is completely smitten with her, but my husband has always acted cold and distant toward her. However, when the elevator suddenly plummeted, he forgot all about my daughter and me, instead pulling her tightly into his arms with such force that it seemed like he wanted to merge her into his very being.

Black Friday had arrived, and my roommate Millie Gray pooled her money to buy a uniquely shaped incense burner. She spent all day in the dorm burning incense and praying, hoping to marry her wealthy boyfriend. Strangely, under the influence of the incense burner, Millie’s appearance gradually became similar to mine, until one day, our identities were completely swapped. She became the famous rich girl on campus, while I was chased by thugs for the massive debts she had deliberately incurred, my reputation in ruins. When I found her, hoping to switch back our identities, Millie pretended to agree, but after tricking me into revealing my bank card password, she pushed me off a high-rise building. Before dying, I heard her greedy and malicious voice: “Octavia, only when you’re dead will your identity truly belong to me.” Only then did I understand that the incense burner Millie had bought was actually an evil object that could grant wishes. As long as my misfortune accumulated to a certain extent, she could exchange bodies with me. When I opened my eyes again, I had been reborn to the moment when Millie had just brought back the incense burner. Looking at Millie making her devout wish, I smiled. She didn’t know yet that making wishes to evil objects came with a price. ***** “Octavia, you’re being way too petty. Millie just stained your sheets a little. How could you throw her stuff on the floor?” The noise around me pulled me from the chaos, the terror of falling from the thirty-third floor still lingering in my heart. My legs went weak, and I crouched down clutching my chest, painfully realizing that I had been reborn. The person in front of me was startled: “What are you doing? Stop pretending!” I looked around and found that our small dorm was packed with delivery boxes, with three girls standing in front of me glaring angrily. One face I would never forget in this lifetime—it was my roommate Millie, who had pushed me off the building and tried to steal my identity! She was known as a rich girl in the college, but only I knew that her family was actually ordinary, and her monthly allowance wasn’t nearly enough for her spending. Every Black Friday, to maintain her persona, Millie would shop online for a bunch of things, and the packages she received could fill up half the dorm. This time was no exception. She had bought back a strangely shaped incense burner and burned incense in the dorm every day, then knelt devoutly before the burner to make wishes. The incense had a pungent, nauseating smell. But Millie seemed completely oblivious to it. In my previous life, I had protested several times, but she refused to put away the incense burner. Instead, she spread rumors in class, saying I was jealous of her and deliberately targeting her. Millie burned incense with extreme devotion for an entire semester, not even stopping during winter break. On the first day after the holiday ended, all the classmates who saw her again were shocked. My roommates Jayla Hill and Rachel Welch looked at Millie and then at me with confusion: “How are you two looking more and more alike?” I didn’t know when it started, but Millie’s appearance had become three parts similar to mine. Millie’s expression changed slightly, and she forced a smile, saying she had gotten cosmetic procedures during the holiday, managing to brush it off. As she frequently burned incense in the dorm, her appearance grew closer and closer to mine. At that time, I was busy preparing for competitions and didn’t take this matter to heart. Until the day after I had worked hard to complete my competition project, I woke up to find myself lying in Millie’s bed, and what was reflected in the mirror was unmistakably Millie’s face! I frantically opened my phone and saw many congratulatory messages and videos in the group chat. In the video, someone with my face was smiling as she held up the trophy, accepting the interviews and praise that should have belonged to me. I immediately understood—that was Millie! I had been forced to exchange identities with her. She had transformed into a real rich girl, succeeding in both academics and love, and soon got engaged to her boyfriend James Burke. Meanwhile, I was forced to flee everywhere due to the massive debts she had left behind, living in poverty. I tried to prove my identity, but no one believed what I said. Instead, they all thought I was crazy. I desperately begged Millie to switch back our identities. She pretended to agree but arranged to meet me on the rooftop, where she pushed me off the thirty-third floor. Before falling, the last thing I saw was Millie’s twisted and ecstatic face. She said: “Octavia, only when you’re dead will your identity truly belong to me.” Only then did I understand that the incense burner was an evil object Millie had bought online. By lighting special incense and making wishes to it, over time, one could exchange bodies with a specific person and completely steal their identity. However, making wishes to evil objects came with a price.

Jayla and Rachel were still glaring at me furiously, insisting I apologize. Millie pretended to play peacemaker, but her eyes gleamed with satisfaction. I looked at the wrinkled bedsheets stained by the delivery box and smiled at Millie. “Do you know how much this bedding set costs?” Jayla scoffed dismissively. “It’s just a set of sheets. Who can’t afford that? Millie’s from a wealthy family!” Rachel chimed in, “Exactly! What’s the big deal if Millie compensates you for some sheets? But can you afford to pay for her package? If you’re so confident, why don’t you both compensate each other!” The moment they finished speaking, Millie’s face went pale, but I couldn’t help laughing. My bedsheets were indeed from a luxury brand. My mom had bought a lot of accessories to go with her designer bags, and she’d used them all for me and my dad. Others might not recognize them, but Millie had done her homework to maintain her rich girl facade—she definitely knew what they were. The question was: could she afford to pay for them? Cold sweat was already beading on Millie’s forehead. She was about to speak when I beat her to it. “Sure thing. This bedding set costs nine thousand three hundred dollars. How do you plan to pay? Or we could use those packages on the floor as compensation.” “What? Nine thousand three hundred dollars? Who are you trying to fool?” Jayla was shocked at first, then switched to a mocking expression. That made sense. Back in high school, after being harassed by some boys, my parents had repeatedly warned me not to show off our wealth and to keep a low profile. Except for Millie, no one knew I actually came from a well-off family. So Jayla’s first reaction to hearing that price was that I was trying to extort Millie. Rachel obviously thought the same thing. But Rachel was impulsive and immediately retorted, “What’s so hard about that? With Millie’s status, any random package of hers is worth more than your bedsheets!” She casually picked up a package, ready to open it. Millie’s face went ashen as she stopped her, gritting her teeth as she stared at me. “I’ll transfer the money to you tomorrow.” I sneered inwardly. Of course she didn’t dare let Rachel open those packages. Otherwise, everyone would discover that most of these so-called deliveries were empty packages she’d ordered just to maintain her persona. And I was counting on exploiting her vanity. I pulled out my phone, opened my payment QR code, and placed it directly in front of Millie. “Today’s debt gets settled today. After all, you’re so wealthy—surely you can afford it, right?” She really couldn’t afford it. Millie was just an ordinary college student who’d landed a wealthy boyfriend by crafting a fake persona, but she didn’t have much spending money and relied entirely on credit cards. Especially right after Black Friday, asking her to come up with nearly ten thousand dollars on the spot was impossible. Millie stammered excuses, refusing to transfer the money. Jayla and Rachel, watching her hesitation, asked suspiciously, “Millie, you can’t actually afford it, can you?” Seeing the increasingly strange looks from Jayla and Rachel, Millie looked at me helplessly. My expression darkened. No one knew that Millie and I had known each other for years. Her father, David Gray, had been our family driver before Christmas and often brought Millie to visit my parents. Even though David had quit later, when I first saw Millie and David in the dorm on move-in day, I still recognized them. In my previous life, I’d been too soft-hearted. Remembering how David used to drive me to and from school, whenever Millie put on that pitiful expression, I’d lend her money, luxury bags, clothes—whatever she wanted. But after we switched bodies, all of this became evidence of my supposed vanity and jealousy toward her. I, in Millie’s body, was sent to a psychiatric hospital where I spent the most painful and desperate three months of my life. It wasn’t until I overheard some nurses chatting that I learned Millie had orchestrated everything that happened to me. Now Millie still wanted to play the victim in front of me for sympathy, but I’d already died once—how could I possibly fall for it again? I looked at the package on the floor with its familiar pattern and smiled slightly. “If you don’t want to pay, using your stuff as compensation works too. How about this one? Looks like an incense burner? I’ve been getting interested in aromatherapy lately.” Millie’s expression shifted uncertainly, but ultimately, fearing her identity would be exposed, she gritted her teeth and agreed. “Just for one day. Tomorrow I’ll buy you identical bedsheets, and then you have to return the incense burner to me.” After speaking, Millie gave me a long look, obediently collected her packages, and stuffed them under her bed, looking somewhat aggrieved. Jayla and Rachel awkwardly returned to their seats. Jayla mocked, “Some people just love causing trouble. They’re actually just jealous that others are richer than them and have boyfriends who worship the ground they walk on.” Rachel added, “If you ask me, she’s just full of regret. When James was pursuing her, she acted all reluctant. Now that James is with Millie, she targets Millie every single day.” I pretended not to hear them, quickly changed my bedsheets, and carefully opened the package. I didn’t touch the incense burner inside—didn’t dare to—but I quietly hid the instruction manual. Only by understanding her methods could I figure out how to counter them. I wanted to see exactly what this cursed object that killed me really was.

That evening, after finishing my shower and stepping out of the bathroom, I had barely opened the door when Millie squeezed her way in, putting on a pitiful expression. She said softly, “Octavia…” She was here to play the victim. I watched her performance coldly, my tone flat: “What do you want?” “Nothing.” Millie hesitated, as if she wanted to say something but held back. “If it’s nothing, then get out.” I moved to push her out. Millie panicked, biting her lower lip with a wronged expression, questioning me with a tearful voice: “Are you in a bad mood? Why are you targeting me? You know perfectly well that my family isn’t well-off, so why are you making me pay for your sheets? “One set of your sheets costs more than my living expenses for an entire Christmas. You’re not short on money, so why are you being so relentless? Or are you just trying to humiliate me on purpose?” I was stunned. How could someone be so shameless! Yet looking at Millie’s expression, she genuinely believed she was the wronged party. Not wanting to waste time with her, I admitted directly: “Yes, I look down on you and I’m targeting you on purpose. So what?” At my words, Millie’s expression froze, and a flash of resentment and realization quickly crossed her eyes. A chill seemed to sweep through my heart, cold enough to make me shiver. In my previous life at this point, I had been relatively tolerant of Millie. Even when she repeatedly used my name on Tinder to find boyfriends, damaging my reputation, I never held it against her or exposed her. But facts proved that with someone like Millie who benefits herself at others’ expense, unless you can unconditionally satisfy her demands for life, you’ll inevitably earn her resentment. At this moment, she probably already harbored hatred toward me. I stared directly into Millie’s humiliated eyes and warned coldly: “I suggest you drop those little schemes and compensate me for my losses quickly. If you keep playing games, don’t be surprised if your real face appears on Tinder tomorrow. When that happens, guess whether the boyfriend you finally managed to get will leave you?” “No, don’t!” Hearing me mention her boyfriend, Millie immediately panicked. She grabbed my arm and pleaded: “Please don’t tell James. I’ll pay for your sheets. I accidentally put the package on your bed today, and I won’t do it again!” I cleared my throat, my expression becoming somewhat complicated. I could tell Millie was genuinely afraid of losing James. Her intense reaction made me feel like the evil supporting character breaking up a loving couple. I sneered: “You say it was an accident? Then what about all those times you secretly wore my clothes, carried my bags on dates with James, threw my speech draft into the washing machine, and deliberately copied my style while hinting to others that I was copying you—were those all ‘accidents’ too?” Millie’s face turned deathly pale, her expression twisting for a moment. I shook off her hand, remembering everything from my previous life, feeling disgusted as if the arm she’d touched had been crawled over by insects. Opening the door, the bathroom mirror reflected Millie’s face behind me, barely concealing her hatred. I said: “Millie, I won’t let the past slide so easily. You’d better watch yourself.” With that, I took my toiletries and left the bathroom. Whether Millie would overthink because of my words wasn’t my concern. But what I didn’t know was that shortly after I left, Millie, who had been suppressing her emotions, looked down at the hair she’d just pulled from my clothes and revealed a sinister smile. Back in my room, I lay in bed reading the incense burner’s instruction manual and searched for the product’s online store based on the shop name on the package. However, to my surprise, the store was completely empty with no products for sale. I had no choice but to click on the customer service avatar below the store and tentatively sent a message. User 2345: [Hello, can I still buy the incense burners from your store?] Despite it being 11:30 PM, the customer service quickly replied. Nether Nook: [Hello, our store’s products require strong desire to purchase. We’ve detected that you don’t have any wishes you’re longing to fulfill.] My hand trembled, and I immediately turned off the screen. What did this mean? Could this store’s customer service read my emotions through the phone? Was this really something current technology could achieve? And what was her relationship with Millie? Just as I was hesitating whether to continue asking, my phone screen lit up again as the customer service proactively sent another message. The moment I saw that sentence, I froze.

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It’s Christmas vacation season, and I, Lydia Walsh, had booked tickets planning to take the whole family on a trip together. But when my husband Roman Sanders saw the booking information, his face turned ashen. He violently snatched my phone away, demanding to cancel the tickets. This trip wasn’t expensive, so I couldn’t understand why we couldn’t go. He wouldn’t explain anything and instead locked me in the house, beating me mercilessly while cursing: “Don’t even think about running off to that kind of place!” I was locked up for three whole days, dizzy from hunger. Finally, I managed to steal Roman’s phone and called my parents for help. But my father Leonard Walsh, who had always doted on me, slapped me hard across the face. My mother Josie Walsh grabbed a broom and beat me viciously. She said: “No way, we absolutely cannot let her go to that kind of place! We’d better break her legs.” I didn’t understand why they were treating me this way and could only struggle desperately to resist. But in the end, they still dragged me back and used an axe to brutally chop off both my legs. Looking at my amputated lower body, my heart died completely. My parents smiled as they took me home to recover, and I stared at them intensely, demanding: “What exactly is wrong with that place?” Their faces darkened, and they turned around and pushed me off the tenth floor. I was shattered to pieces and died on the spot. When I opened my eyes again, I had somehow returned to the very first day of Christmas vacation. ***** Roman, who had just come home from work, hugged me tightly. He said: “I’m sorry, the company has been so busy lately that I haven’t had time to spend with you properly. This Christmas vacation, wherever you want to go, I’ll go with you, okay?” Hearing that familiar voice, I suddenly snapped back to reality. I instinctively broke free from Roman’s embrace and frantically searched for my phone. The phone screen showed Christmas Eve. I had truly been reborn. I had returned to the very first day of Christmas vacation. In my previous life, because Roman was busy with work, I had eagerly planned a family trip when he finally got time off. Before departure, I had clearly discussed this with Roman. He had no objections at the time and even enthusiastically agreed. To extend the vacation, he had even specifically requested three extra days off from his supervisor. You could tell he was looking forward to this Christmas trip. But right after I bought the tickets and booked the hotel, Roman took just one glance at the booking information and his expression changed instantly. He grabbed my phone and immediately started canceling the tickets without a word. Not understanding, I thought he was worried about spending too much money and quickly explained: “I heard this place has great value for tourism, it won’t cost much.” But Roman wouldn’t listen and continued with the cancellation. When I angrily snatched my phone back, he punched me hard in the face, roaring: “What exactly are you trying to do by going to that kind of place?” In our three years of marriage, this was the first time I’d seen him this furious. I was trembling with fear, still confused as I covered my face and asked him: “What do you mean by ‘that kind of place’? It’s just a natural scenic area, what do you think it is?” But Roman wouldn’t listen at all and directly locked me in the house, beating me up. He hit me while cursing: “Let’s see if you still dare to run off there!” I was trapped for three whole days, dizzy from hunger, and my phone was confiscated. Taking advantage of when Roman was showering, I stole his phone and quickly called my parents for help. My parents rushed over immediately. But when they entered the house, Roman wasn’t afraid at all—instead, he looked at me with defiant eyes. Josie hugged me and cried heartbrokenly, while Leonard grabbed Roman by the collar and roared: “It’s just a trip, what gives you the right to lock Lydia up?” Roman didn’t answer, only handed the booking information to Leonard. The moment Leonard finished reading it, his face turned deathly pale. He looked at me in horror, his hands trembling as he slapped me hard across the face. My left cheek swelled up instantly. Josie rushed over to shield me, shouting at Leonard: “Are you insane! Lydia just wants to travel, did you really need to hit her?” Leonard gritted his teeth and handed the booking information to Josie. The same Josie who had just been protecting me now stood frozen like she’d been struck by lightning. After a long moment, she snapped back to reality, shoved me away hard, and stormed into the kitchen to grab a broom, beating me frantically with it. She cursed: “You ungrateful bitch! We’ve wasted our time raising you! Tell me, why do you insist on going to that place?” My mind was in complete chaos as I frantically asked her: “Mom, what are you talking about? It’s just an ordinary nature reserve. What’s wrong with it?” But she wouldn’t answer, just glared at me viciously before declaring firmly to Leonard: “We absolutely cannot let her go!” She paced back and forth anxiously, then suddenly seemed to have an idea. She said: “Let’s just break Lydia’s legs so she can never leave.” I stared in horror, my body trembling uncontrollably. This was just an ordinary tourist destination—why were they so terrified? Seeing them approaching step by step with an axe, I bolted, but Roman pinned me firmly to the ground. I cried, asking them what I had done wrong. But they turned a deaf ear, stuffed a rag in my mouth, then raised their knives and axe, hacking at my legs blow by blow. The excruciating pain nearly made me pass out. I struggled desperately, begging them to spare me, but they were like demons from hell, showing no mercy. My legs were completely severed, flesh and bone alike, blood pooling everywhere. I fainted from the pain, and when I woke up again, I was in the hospital having completed amputation surgery. Mom and Dad wheeled me home with smiling faces. I hysterically demanded answers: “Why? Why did you do this to me?” Josie’s expression immediately darkened. Leonard slapped me across the face again, roaring: “You ungrateful bitch! We’ve wasted our time raising you!” I stood there stunned. The next second, Josie actually pushed me off the tenth floor with her own hands. She cursed: “Since you’re so ungrateful, just go die!” I plummeted from the height, my body shattered to pieces, yet miraculously I didn’t die immediately. When I was barely alive, using my last breath to call for help, Roman—who had once loved me deeply—appeared and strangled me without hesitation. Even in death, I couldn’t understand why they all wanted to kill me after seeing that booking information. But now, I’ve been reborn. This time, I will definitely uncover the truth!

With that thought, I immediately turned off my phone. In my past life, I was the one who actively told Roman about the ticket booking. So this time, as long as I canceled the tickets before he found out, nothing would happen. However, my action of turning off the phone still aroused Roman’s suspicion. He asked me with feigned annoyance, “What’s wrong? Do you have something on your phone you don’t want me to see?” My heart panicked, but I forced myself to stay calm and smiled as I replied, “Yeah, our neighbor Derek Dollar sent me a message. Can’t let you see that.” Roman chuckled and walked over to hug me playfully, “Is Derek coming on our trip too?” I joked back, “If you don’t mind, I could invite him along.” “You wouldn’t dare!” Roman deliberately pinched my nose, his tone carrying a hint of jealousy. “I don’t even know where we’re going yet, and you’re already thinking about bringing Derek? You’re something else!” I acted coy as usual, saying mysteriously, “An unknown destination is what makes travel exciting. Don’t worry, you’ll love it!” Roman smiled and patted my head, “Alright, I’m curious to see where you’re planning to take me.” I smiled back and said casually, “I’ll tell you after I take a shower.” With that, I grabbed my phone and walked into the bathroom. This destination was carefully selected by me – even negative reviews online were rare. But I still decided to quietly cancel the tickets in the bathroom first, then thoroughly research whether there were any issues with that place. However, as soon as I entered the bathroom, I froze. I had grabbed the wrong phone! I immediately opened the door to switch phones, but saw Roman staring at a lit screen. And what he was looking at was my phone! The moment he saw me, Roman immediately walked toward me. I instinctively wanted to flee, but he firmly grabbed my arm. Before I could explain, Roman suddenly raised his hand and slapped me hard across the face. He said, “With so many places to travel to, why do you have to go to that kind of place?” I couldn’t understand why my husband, who had been gentle and caring just moments ago, seemed like a completely different person after seeing the booking information. The viciousness that flashed in his eyes was something I had never seen before. I trembled with fear, but quickly calmed down. I hurriedly knelt on the ground, showing weakness and begging for mercy, “I really didn’t know that place was off-limits. If you don’t want to go, I’ll cancel the tickets right now. We can go somewhere else, okay? How about Buffalo? We can see the falls and eat wings!” However, Roman wasn’t convinced by my words. Instead, he became even more furious, “You had these thoughts and still dare to mention traveling to me? You really want to run away, don’t you?” He approached me angrily, reaching out to grab me. I broke free from his grasp and frantically ran to the balcony. Looking at the people coming and going downstairs, I had a sudden inspiration and shouted loudly, “Help! Someone’s committing domestic violence and trying to kill his wife!” It was rush hour, and there were many people taking walks in the community. Sure enough, everyone looked up. I then climbed over the balcony railing, my body half-suspended outside, crying and pleading to Roman, “I just wanted to take a trip. If you don’t want me to go, fine, but why are you trying to force me to my death!” Roman gritted his teeth and roared, “Bitch, shut up!” He tried to pull me back inside, but the property management had already brought people to break down the door. Several security guards forcibly pulled him away, advising, “You two need to talk this out properly.” More than a dozen neighbors also gathered around. “This guy looks decent on the outside, but he’s actually an abuser!” “His wife just wanted to go on a trip – what’s the big deal?” “I bet he’s just being cheap!” “Even if he’s stingy, that’s no reason to get violent! We should call the police!” Roman clenched his fists, staring at me with a dark expression. But under everyone’s watchful eyes, he didn’t dare make any rash moves. Suddenly, as if he thought of something, a cold smile appeared at the corner of his mouth, and he dialed my parents’ number.

My parents squeezed through the door with difficulty. Seeing the room full of onlookers, their faces turned extremely grim. Josie protectively held me in her arms, whispering words of comfort, but listening to her made my whole body turn cold. The property management staff and neighbors immediately told them what had just happened. Leonard rushed toward Roman in a few quick steps, grabbing him by the collar. Before his fist could land, Roman had already pulled out my phone. My voice trembling, I shouted, “Dad, don’t look!” The words had barely left my mouth when Leonard had already taken the phone and glanced at it. In that instant, he froze completely. My heart sank, and I was about to turn and run when Leonard suddenly looked up at me. The love on his face instantly transformed into disgust. He raised his hand and slapped me hard across the face. He cursed, “You slut, what the hell were you planning to do at that kind of place?” I broke down crying, but still questioned him in confusion, “What’s wrong with that place? Isn’t it just an ordinary scenic area?” Leonard said, “What scenic area? You still dare to play dumb!” Seeing Leonard about to raise his hand again, Josie quickly shielded me in her arms, roaring, “Are you crazy? Your daughter was just going on a trip!” Hearing this, Leonard let out a cold laugh and said mockingly, “A trip? If she still considered us her parents, she wouldn’t have gone there for a trip. This little bitch! We might as well beat her to death!” After Leonard said this, everyone present was shocked. No one could understand why a father would say such vicious words to his victimized daughter. Josie was trembling with rage, but she also understood that Leonard wouldn’t curse at me without reason. There must be something wrong with the ticket I booked! She said, “Give me Lydia’s phone!” I quickly stepped forward to stop Josie, kneeling on the ground and pleading, “Mom, I swear, the place I was going to is really just an ordinary scenic area. If you don’t want me to go, I’ll just refund the ticket. Please, I’m begging you, don’t look.” Seeing me beg so humbly, Josie’s eyes were full of heartache. She kept holding me and comforting me, “Baby, don’t cry! You just wanted to travel. Dad and Roman are definitely making a big deal out of nothing. Don’t worry, as long as I’m here, I’ll definitely stand up for you.” But I didn’t dare gamble with my life and frantically tried to stop her. I said, “No, I’m begging you not to look! Once you see it, you definitely won’t acknowledge me as your daughter anymore!” The more I tried to stop her, the more curious Josie became about what was hidden in the phone. She gently patted me and insisted on taking the phone. She said, “Don’t be afraid, Lydia. No matter what happens, I’ll protect you!” She looked at me with gentle eyes, trying to reassure me. However, when Josie began checking the phone’s contents, my heart completely turned cold. Sure enough, she who had just looked so heartbroken instantly changed her expression, her eyes revealing undisguised malice. I trembled all over, instinctively wanting to flee, but Josie suddenly grabbed my wrist. Her voice trembling slightly, she said, “It’s okay, Lydia. If you want to travel, then go ahead. I won’t stop you. Have you packed your luggage? I’ll take you to the train station now.” She wore a smile on her face, but her eyes were ice-cold, as if she had put on a mask of hypocrisy. I desperately tried to shake off her hand, “No, I’m not going. I really won’t go anymore!” Josie looked indifferent, glaring at me viciously, “You’ve already booked the ticket, how can you not go? There’s only an hour left before departure. Let’s go.” With that, she gave Leonard a meaningful look. Leonard, with a cold face, reached out to grab me. I quickly grabbed the security guard beside me and knelt down pleading, “No, I can’t go with them! If I go with them, they’ll definitely kill me! Please save me!” Several security guards showed hesitation. After all, this was ultimately a family matter, and it really wasn’t appropriate for outsiders like them to interfere. The watching neighbors couldn’t tell for a moment whether there was something wrong with my mental state, or if my parents and Roman had hidden motives. Seeing no one stopping them, my parents boldly began pulling and dragging me. Their tone carried a warning, “Lydia, you must come with us now. Otherwise, if we delay things, it won’t end well.” I struggled desperately, crying heartbreakingly. Fortunately, a neighbor next door finally sensed something was wrong and spoke up to dissuade them, “Lydia already said she doesn’t want to go. Why are you forcing her?” My mom impatiently snapped back, “We’re her biological parents. If we tell her to go, she goes. It’s not your place as an outsider to speak!” The neighbor was left speechless by the retort. Roman took the opportunity to pin down my shoulders and even tied up my hands and feet with a belt. My parents worked together, dragging me like livestock toward the stairs. Even if the neighbors were well-meaning, they didn’t dare easily interfere in other people’s family affairs. Especially since my parents and Roman all looked like people not to be messed with. Just as I was about to be forcibly stuffed into the elevator, a tall figure blocked their path. “Wait! You can’t take her!” The moment I saw who it was, I knew that the secret of why they wouldn’t let me go out was finally about to be revealed.

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My husband Zion Lewis died, leaving behind five million dollars in debt. I, Jane Green, decided to inherit his debts, but my best friend Quinn Myers was frantic with worry. In my previous life, she urged me not to inherit the estate. She said Zion didn’t leave a penny behind, so why should I pay his debts? So I signed the waiver agreement, declaring that Zion’s affairs had nothing to do with me, using this to escape the debt. However, the debt collectors wouldn’t let me go. They kidnapped my son Vincent Lewis to force me to pay. Watching Vincent’s fingers being sent back to me one by one, I was consumed with grief. In just 24 hours, I begged every relative I had, only managing to scrape together a hundred thousand dollars. In the end, Vincent died a horrible death, and I was sold overseas as a slave by the ruthless debt collectors. Meanwhile, Quinn transformed herself, and she and her son Vince Myers inherited the estate of a billionaire. It wasn’t until I saw that wealthy man on television and discovered he was actually Zion, who had supposedly died in an accident, that I finally understood. Zion had been pretending to be poor all along. Vince was his and Quinn’s illegitimate son, and the inheritance I had given up had all fallen into their hands. Unwilling to accept this fate, I tried to escape back to the country to get revenge on Quinn, but I died miserably under my slave master’s abuse. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day Quinn urged me to give up my inheritance rights. ***** “Someone poor like Zion—no savings is one thing, but why should you have to pay back five million dollars in gambling debts?” “Jane, you should just give up your inheritance rights. That way, you won’t inherit any property, and naturally you won’t have to take on any debts. The debt collectors won’t be able to do anything to you either.” Outside the door, the deafening sound of debt collectors pounding on the door felt like hammers striking my chest. Inside, Quinn kept urging me over and over to give up my inheritance rights. In my past life, I had trusted her words. Because I didn’t want to pay Zion’s debts, I gave up my inheritance rights. But that creditor named Joseph Edwards didn’t care about any laws—he was convinced I had money and just wouldn’t pay. He kidnapped Vincent and cut off his fingers to threaten me. Every three hours, he sent me another bloody finger. I called every relative I had, and in the end only managed to raise a hundred thousand dollars. I knelt on the ground, kowtowing until my head bled, begging Joseph to spare Vincent. But he said I was just acting and insisted I had to pay the price. When Vincent’s neck was severed, blood splattered everywhere, and my world instantly turned blood red. It wasn’t until the third day after being sold overseas that I regained consciousness. Vincent was dead, and I could never go back. I was stripped naked and thrown onto muddy wooden boards, waiting for a doctor to come harvest my kidneys. On an old television beside me, Zion’s face suddenly appeared. He was actually the CEO of a publicly traded corporation, worth billions of dollars. The heir to his estate was none other than Quinn’s son Vince—the illegitimate child they had conceived behind my back. I finally understood why Quinn had desperately urged me to give up my inheritance rights. As long as I gave up, all that inheritance would belong to her and her son. While Vincent and I would die horribly at the hands of debt collectors. I refused to accept this fate and fought with all my strength to escape and get revenge on Quinn. But the place I was in was a slave compound that not even a fly could escape from. I ultimately died under my slave master’s abuse, my face so disfigured that my features were unrecognizable. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day Zion’s creditors came to collect the debt. This time, I would never let Quinn succeed again. Everything that belonged to Vincent and me—they wouldn’t get to steal a single penny!

I yanked my hand away from Quinn’s grip. The diamond bracelet on her wrist sparkled under the lights, the glare making my eyes ache. “Zion is my legal husband,” I said firmly. “Whatever he left behind, I have the right to inherit.” Joseph, the debt collector outside, kicked the door open and frowned at the empty room. Waving the IOU in his hand, he leaned against the doorframe. “This gambling debt ain’t pocket change.” I answered resolutely, “I’ll take responsibility for this five million dollar debt.” Quinn’s eyes widened. “Jane, given your family’s situation right now, you don’t even have money for Zion’s funeral, do you? That’s five million dollars! How dare you agree to that? If you give up your inheritance rights now, you can still keep the house your parents left you. But if you don’t, you and Vincent won’t even have a place to live.” Seeing my silence, Quinn thought she had an opening. She immediately pulled out an inheritance waiver from her platinum handbag and pushed it in front of me. “You should sign this,” she said. “Even if you won’t think about yourself, you should consider Vincent. If you can’t pay back the money, Vincent will get bullied at school.” She spoke with such earnest concern. But I looked up and took in all her luxury items. Not a single knockoff—everything was authentic. Our first Christmas as a married couple, I had scraped together enough money to buy matching sterling silver wedding bands for Zion and me. Right now, Quinn was pointing at the signature line with fingers adorned by a rose gold ring. That single ring on her hand was worth ten of my wedding bands. Our third Christmas together, when I wanted to change jobs after experiencing workplace sexual harassment, Zion talked me out of it. He said we needed to save money for baby formula. Quinn leaned close to my ear, softly urging me on. Those big earrings of hers could cover Vincent’s living expenses for eighteen years. Later, when I got pregnant, I felt bad that Zion was working so hard alone that I didn’t dare buy even cheap fruit. When Vincent was born underweight and needed the incubator, Zion said we couldn’t afford it—maybe we should just let it go. I borrowed from every colleague I knew to save Vincent’s life. Our fifth Christmas, when Vincent reached preschool age, I worked three part-time jobs to send him to public preschool. And Quinn? She was preparing for pregnancy at a luxury maternity center that cost two hundred thousand dollars a month. I never dared to ask, afraid she’d found some rich guy but didn’t want to tell me. I never imagined the man she found was the same Zion who played poor in front of me. Even the way Quinn was urging me to sign now was seductive and charming. After more than ten years, she lived the good life with skin as smooth and tender as a young girl’s. Meanwhile, I was worn down by hardship, with crow’s feet marking the corners of my eyes. Thinking about how they’d played me for a fool, I trembled with rage. Why should Vincent and I suffer all the hardships while Quinn and Vince enjoyed all the benefits? The neighbor next door tried to persuade me: “Jane, just give up the inheritance rights. Cut ties with Zion, and you and Vincent can live peacefully.” Hearing this, Quinn crossed her arms, lips curving upward in a knowing smile, eyebrows raised with a “listen to me and you can’t go wrong” expression. After all, any reasonable person could understand the stakes involved. But I refused to listen. Without another word, I tore up that inheritance waiver. “Even if it means being homeless,” I declared, “I’ll help Zion pay off his debts! It’s just gambling debt—I can’t let money be the reason Zion can’t rest in peace.” Quinn straightened up, looking at me like I was an idiot. Joseph’s eyes turned menacing as he warned me not to pull any tricks. Unfazed, I handed over the property deed to show my sincerity: “Joseph, this house is still worth several hundred thousand dollars. Give me three days. Once I finish the funeral arrangements, I’ll definitely get you the money!”

When Quinn saw that I was even willing to mortgage my house, she realized I was serious. She immediately flew into a rage and shouted, “What good does mortgaging your house do? You’re still short over four million dollars! Where are you going to come up with that kind of money? Besides, you don’t even have a place to live now. With this freezing weather, are you really going to sleep on the streets?” After saying this, she pulled out another agreement from her bag and slammed it down hard in front of me. I grabbed her arm and put on a pitiful expression, saying, “Quinn, you’re my best friend. I believe you wouldn’t have the heart to watch me end up homeless, right?” She instinctively pulled her hand back. “I… I…” A neighbor nearby slapped his thigh and chimed in, “Jane, your friend here looks like a loyal girl. I remember you used to help take care of her kid, didn’t you?” I nodded in agreement. “Yes, her son is about the same age as mine. They even look quite similar around the eyes. People who don’t know them might think they’re real brothers…” Before I could finish, Quinn’s eye twitched, and she quickly interrupted, “I… of course I wouldn’t let you end up on the streets. Since you’ve lost your house, come stay at my place. We’re good friends, after all.” Her voice grew quieter as she spoke, clearly flustered and afraid I might notice something. Without delay, that very evening I moved into Quinn’s place with Vincent. Crystal chandeliers, large oil paintings for decoration, an entire wall of wine cabinets—the spacious apartment exuded understated luxury. This was the first time Quinn had ever let me come to her home. I opened my mouth wide in exaggerated surprise and said, “Quinn, I had no idea you’ve been doing so well these past few years.” She stammered in response, “This is a rental. The landlord was eager to sell, so the rent is very low.” Really? I gently traced the subtle pattern along the picture frame’s edge and immediately recognized the Lewis Group logo. These items were clearly purchased by Zion for her and her son. Otherwise, how could Quinn, with her three-thousand-dollar monthly salary, possibly afford to live in a place like this? If Zion hadn’t died so suddenly, I would have demanded to know why he pretended to be poor. He spent his days cramped with me in our run-down little house, then snuck off to Quinn’s luxury apartment at night. Was this his idea of twisted entertainment? Zion and I had been married for over ten years. When we first met, he was poor, and without a second thought, I let him move into the old house my parents had left me. My parents died young, and when I met a man like Zion who seemed willing to sacrifice for me, I fell for him. When he said he wanted to go out and make something of himself, I gave him my life savings to support him. But he just kept losing money, one failure after another. I thought he had no money and couldn’t do anything too outrageous. I never imagined he not only had money but was also having an affair. The mistress who kept him from coming home turned out to be Quinn—someone I’d known for years, someone I shared everything with. I estimated the value of the furnishings in Quinn’s home—any single piece would be enough to cover that five-million-dollar debt. But what she wanted was to see Vincent and me fall into complete ruin, never to recover. How could I not hate her? Vince ran out of the house wearing designer pajamas. Though he was two years younger than Vincent, he was well-nourished and nearly the same height as Vincent. Vince pointed at us and cursed: “What gives you the right to enter our house? If you don’t have a place to live, go sleep on the streets!” Quinn quickly stopped him: “Vince, don’t talk like that!” How ironic that my child and her child even had such similar names. No wonder the two boys looked so alike that even Zion never mistook them. I said nothing, but Vincent burst into tears on the spot. Quinn covered Vince’s mouth and apologized to me. But that evening, I overheard her secretly manipulating Vincent: “You can’t blame anyone else for being bullied! If your mom would just give up the inheritance, you wouldn’t have to put up with us!” She instructed Vince to pester Vincent, then privately hit and pinched him. Vincent was tormented until he became completely listless, his back covered in bruises the next day. He didn’t blame me, just cried and begged to go home. I watched it all but said nothing. Seeing my indifference, Quinn finally couldn’t contain herself. That night, she sneaked onto the balcony to make a phone call: “Yes, his name is Vincent, right at the entrance of that neighborhood. You can’t get a clear shot.” Just thinking about Vincent’s bloody fingers made my body tremble uncontrollably. My fists were clenched so tightly that my nails drew blood, though I didn’t feel the pain until much later. Sure enough, on the day of Zion’s funeral, I had just arrived at the funeral home when Joseph’s call came through. He said: “Why hasn’t the five million dollars been transferred yet? Today’s the last day. If I don’t see the money, Vincent won’t live to see another day!” A boy’s crying could be heard through the phone. I had it on speaker and said nothing. The funeral guests beside me were more panicked than I was, with someone asking if we should call the police. I waved dismissively: “No need. Let’s finish the funeral first. The cremation is about to begin—don’t delay Zion’s rest.” Quinn looked at me in disbelief: “Is Vincent really your biological son? Even at a time like this, you’re still trying to act tough? Just sign the inheritance waiver and tell Joseph that five million dollar debt has nothing to do with you. Otherwise, they really will hurt Vincent!” Everyone present nodded in agreement. I stared intently as Zion’s body was wheeled into the cremation chamber and said in a low voice: “Vincent will be fine.” Someone behind me shoved me hard: “At a time like this, you still won’t sign? Do you even deserve to be called a mother? A dead person is about to be cremated—how can that be more important than your own son’s life?” My knees slammed hard against the cold tiles, and I cried out in pain. “Ah!” But the screaming from outside was a hundred times louder than mine. A small pinky finger from a seven or eight-year-old child was delivered, blood sticking gruesomely to the plastic bag. I froze in place as if severely traumatized, while the guests around me began vomiting on the spot. Quinn lifted her chin and questioned me: “Is this what you call ‘will be fine’?” She pushed the inheritance waiver in front of me and even shoved a pen into my hand. She urged: “Sign it quickly. Once Joseph sees this agreement, he won’t be able to do anything to you and Vincent. No matter how arrogant they are, they wouldn’t dare break the law.” I still refused to pick up the pen, my eyes fixed on the cremation chamber. This time, Quinn finally lost it and shouted in front of all the guests: “Jane, even though I’m your good friend, I have to scold you. Your son is in Joseph’s hands right now. You won’t pay the debt and won’t give up the inheritance—what is this if not deliberately getting him killed? How can there be such a heartless mother in this world? I think it’s not Zion who should have died, but you, you heartless woman!” She ranted while inciting the crowd, and several strangers took advantage of the chaos to pin down my hands, forcing me to sign. The fury of the people outside the cremation chamber nearly consumed me, with figures swaying and fists flying before my eyes. It wasn’t until the flesh and blood in the cremation chamber turned to charred remains and Zion’s ashes were retrieved that I smiled. Everyone was stunned. “Rip!” I tore the half-signed agreement to shreds. Quinn opened her mouth, about to curse again. Without hesitation, I slapped her across the face and kicked her to the ground. I said: “Quinn, what right do you have to lecture me? I’m more qualified to be a mother than you are, because the one who was kidnapped isn’t even…”

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At the kindergarten parent-teacher conference, the teacher asked Tobias what his dream was. Tobias blinked his innocent eyes and said he hoped Mommy could get plastic surgery. Before I could even recover from the whispers of the parents around me, Tobias’s next words pierced my heart like a knife. “I want Mommy to become as beautiful as Aunt Ella, so Daddy will be happy when he sees her.” In that moment, I suddenly realized there was no point in continuing this marriage. ***** When Lucien came home, the house was pitch black with all the lights off. He flicked on the lights and saw me sitting alone at the dining table. “Where’s our son?” He frowned, noticing my red, swollen eyes, then asked, “What’s wrong with you now?” “Did you watch the video the teacher posted in the group chat this afternoon?” I asked him. “I was too busy this afternoon.” He brushed me off while pulling out his phone. Actually, I had specifically asked the teacher to post that video. The kindergarten usually records highlights from parent meetings and shares them in the parent group, but my son’s segment was too dramatic, so the teachers skipped it entirely. In the past, I might have just let it go. After all, what my son said was truly embarrassing for a mother to hear. But today, I suddenly didn’t want to silently endure this humiliation anymore. Why should I always be the one making concessions and covering things up when it’s not even my fault? I’m the one being hurt here, aren’t I? Tobias’s innocent voice came through his phone… A rare look of embarrassment crossed Lucien’s face. “Contact the teacher and have her delete this video,” Lucien told me. “Why? Did Tobias say something he shouldn’t have? Why delete it?” I looked up, meeting his gaze directly. “Kaia,” he said my name with some impatience, “Tobias is only four years old. You don’t need to take it out on a child. Have the teacher delete it—other parents might get the wrong idea.” I laughed coldly. “He’s a child, but you’re not. Lucien, even four-year-old Tobias can see that you treat Ella differently. Are you going to keep lying to yourself?” My words seemed to anger him as he frowned deeply. “I’ve told you countless times—there’s nothing between Ella and me, and there never will be. Why do you keep obsessing over her?” He suppressed his temper and tried to put his arm around me. “How about I apologize on behalf of our son? I promise you, Ella and her husband are very happy together. Nothing could ever happen between her and me.” Maybe he didn’t even realize it himself, but his words actually made the cause and effect crystal clear—because she and her husband are happy together, that’s why nothing could happen between him and her. I couldn’t hold back, and tears started flowing again. “Lucien, stay at your mother’s house tonight.” What I really wanted to say was: Lucien, let’s get divorced. But I was too exhausted today and had no energy left to argue with him. He was about to say something when his phone suddenly rang. He glanced at it, looking embarrassed, but still answered. “What? How could you be so careless? Okay, I’m coming right over.” After hanging up, he hurriedly put on his coat while saying, “Kaia, Ella was in a car accident and is hospitalized. I need to go check on her. Stop making a scene, and remember to pick up Tobias from my mother’s tomorrow.” “Lucien, Ella is married—she has a husband. Why should you be the one rushing to her side when she’s in an accident?” I asked with a cold laugh. He finally stopped and turned to look at me with disbelief. “Kaia, stop being so unreasonable, okay? Ella was in a car accident and needs to be hospitalized. Do you know how dangerous that could be?” I laughed coldly. “How dangerous? If it were really life-threatening, the hospital would contact her husband first, not have her call her ex-boyfriend!” His expression turned cold as he looked at me like I was a stranger. “Kaia, are you seriously picking the wrong time for this? I don’t want to fight with you.” The door slammed shut with a heavy bang, and the family portrait hanging by the entrance fell and shattered on the floor.

That night, I sat alone in the restaurant and finished an entire bottle of wine. I couldn’t understand why Lucien’s heart just wouldn’t warm up to me. Lucien and I met through a blind date. The first time I saw him, he was wearing a white shirt and dress pants, looking clean and polished—nothing like someone who needed to go on blind dates. Right from our first meeting, I told him straight up that if he wanted to marry me, he’d have to give my mom two hundred thousand dollars first, and I didn’t have a dowry. He laughed and said he’d once loved a girl for many years. Later, that girl married someone else, and it took him a long time to get over it. Now he’d decided to let go of the past and start fresh. Find someone suitable to marry and have children with, then live a simple, happy life. He said he liked the feeling of being cared for, knowing that in this lonely city, there was always a light burning just for him. We talked for a long time, and finally he said, “It’s okay, Kaia. I’m willing to give you a home. From now on, I’ll be your family.” Those words really touched me. At that time, I desperately needed a home. I never asked him who was more important to him—me or Ella. I always believed that as long as we were together, as long as I worked hard enough to make him feel happy, someday his heart would lean toward me. Unfortunately, every day after that, I witnessed his unwavering love for Ella. While I was lost in these memories, my phone rang. I saw two messages from Ella. [Kaia, sorry about this. Old Liu is out of the country on business, and I really couldn’t find anyone else to help, so I contacted Lucien. Please don’t mind.] [Kaia, Lucien was wrong tonight. I’ve already criticized him for it. Don’t be angry anymore—I’ll have him apologize to you personally tomorrow.] Reading these messages, I couldn’t help but laugh out loud. Just how much of a failure was I as a wife that my husband’s ex-girlfriend was comforting me? I replied: [You two are really close. He just finished fighting with me here, and you already know about it from your hospital bed.] [No need for an apology. I’m planning to divorce him. After that, however he wants to please you will be his freedom.] Sure enough, Lucien’s call came through immediately. I hung up. He called again. Finally, I answered. “Kaia, are you sick?” Lucien’s voice was low, like he was in a hospital corridor. “Yes, I’m sick for marrying you. But does that mean I can’t have my own friends and social life? You didn’t have to talk about Ella so nastily. In the eyes of someone like you, everything is dirty. No wonder your mom doesn’t like you.” I thought I’d already given up on him, but hearing these words, my heart still ached. “Lucien, you’re such a bastard.” Sure enough, when you live under the same roof long enough, you both know each other’s sore spots, know exactly what to say to hurt the most. During our best times, we’d shared our pasts with each other. I told him about my broken family—my parents’ divorce, how I became an unwanted burden, finally taken away by my mom. After she remarried, I started living under someone else’s roof, not daring to take extra food at meals, not daring to spend an extra minute in the shower, even my toilet paper usage was restricted. The first time he heard this, he almost cried. He said, “Kaia, it’s okay. I’m your family now. We’ll have children later, and the kids and I will give you all our love, making up for all those years you were shortchanged.” But now, this man who once said he loved me was taking the knife I’d sharpened with my own hands and stabbing it deep into my heart.

Lucien didn’t come home until three days later. When he walked through the door, Tobias and I were on the floor building with blocks. Seeing his dad return, Tobias happily rushed over from the floor and threw his arms around him. But Lucien wasn’t in the mood to spend time with his son. He just brushed Tobias off with a few casual words and headed straight into the kitchen. We were still giving each other the cold shoulder, so he didn’t bother talking to me. However, the commotion from the kitchen gave away his frantic fumbling. Watching Tobias standing by the kitchen doorway with such hopeful anticipation, I finally walked over. “What are you doing?” He glanced up at me and muttered, “Pan-searing steak.” “Is it for Ella? You obviously can’t cook, so why not just buy something ready-made?” My tone was dripping with sarcasm. He said, “She thinks all the steaks from restaurants are frozen and unhealthy.” He lowered his head again, clumsily handling the fat with a kitchen knife. This man who had never set foot in the kitchen before or after marriage was actually learning to pan-sear steak for the woman he loved. If he weren’t my husband, I might have actually marveled at the power of love. Looking at Tobias standing nearby with such eager expectation, I finally took over what he was doing. “You’re not going to do it right. Let me handle this. Go spend time with your son—he really misses you.” I saw gratitude and guilt in his eyes. He leaned down to kiss my forehead, but I pulled away. By the time I came back out, father and son were already roughhousing on the floor. Lucien actually looked like a decent father in that moment. I watched for a while, then brought the pan-seared steak to the table and told Lucien, “You’d better get going. It won’t taste good if it sits too long.” Lucien stood up, clearly happy at that moment. “Thank you, Kaia.” He picked up the thermal container and was about to leave when Tobias wrapped his arms around his leg. Tobias said in his sweet little voice, “Daddy, I want to come too. Can you take me to see Aunt Ella? Tobias misses her too.” Lucien picked up Tobias and looked at me. I smiled and said, “If Tobias wants to go, then take him along.” Tobias excitedly urged Lucien to hurry up and leave. Before heading out, Lucien actually bothered to explain to me: “Ella’s been recovering well these past couple days. Once we find a caregiver in a few days, I won’t have to run to the hospital every day. Then I’ll spend more time with you and Tobias.” I just smiled. “Since she’s sick, you should take care of her first.” Watching father and son leave happily together, the last bit of hope I’d been clinging to finally snapped.

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I accidentally discovered I could see who people were dreaming about in their intimate dreams. At first, I was just curious. But when I turned to look at my childhood friend, I found my name floating above her head. ***** I accidentally hit my head while taking a shower, and I awakened a superpower. I could see who people dreamed about in their wet dreams the night before. This superpower was pretty weird. But it let me know everyone’s secrets in the college town. For instance, the security guard, despite his age, was still going strong—he’d been fantasizing about that charming middle-aged cook from the cafeteria for several nights straight. The campus heartthrob, surrounded by swooning fans, actually had unusual feelings for his aloof roommate. The celebrity names floating above my roommate’s forehead were never the same. The stray dog hanging around the girls’ dorm had fallen for that ten-thousand-dollar poodle at the pet store on the commercial street. Cross-species romance—now that was something to marvel at. Anyway, this dramatic superpower was perfect for gossip. It made my recently boring campus life much more interesting. In just a few days, I’d mastered all the love affairs and grudges throughout the entire college town. Until my childhood friend William Anderson returned to school. He’d been away competing for several days. Without anyone to banter with constantly, life would’ve been pretty bland and passionless if not for that superpower. So when I heard William was back, I immediately asked him to grab dinner. William told me to take his meal card to the cafeteria first. He said he was making me treat him. I grumbled but did as he asked. I was randomly wondering why the cafeteria cook’s wet dream target wasn’t the security guard but the janitor instead, when I spotted William walking through the cafeteria entrance from afar. He was tall with long legs, handsome features, and always drew stares when walking down the street. I waved excitedly to get his attention. “William, over here!” William, who’d had a somewhat cold expression moments before, smiled and walked straight over. Suddenly, I noticed what seemed like a name faintly floating above his forehead. I froze mid-sip of my milkshake, eyes widening. I thought, “Damn! He actually had a wet dream last night? Was it some actress? Or some pretty girl from school?” I quickly stared at William’s forehead. I wanted to see which poor soul had caught his attention. As William approached, the name of his wet dream target above his forehead gradually became clearer. [K…] I squinted, trying to make it out. [Kayla Lewis!] I was so shocked that I spat out my milkshake. William, who’d already reached my table, dodged with a quick sidestep and immediately ruffled my hair into a mess. He sneered, “Kayla Lewis, are you insane?” “Cough, cough—” I coughed frantically, staring at William’s forehead in horror. The name “Kayla Lewis” was glowing there. That’s right, Kayla Lewis is me. I’m the unlucky one he’s been lusting after. Wait, how could I be the object of William’s wet dream? How is that even possible? Maybe I ate something bad and I’m seeing things? I’m not sure, let me look again. I closed my eyes and opened them again. Looking carefully, it’s still my name. I took a deep breath. Still my name! William noticed something was off with me and reached out to pinch my cheek. “What are you spacing out for?” “Cough, cough, cough, stay away from me!” I was frantic, coughing non-stop. William said in confusion, “Didn’t you text me last night saying you missed me like crazy, asking me to bring you souvenirs and buy cosmetics at the duty-free shop? Now you’re telling me to stay away? Kayla, that’s way too much.” I slapped his hand away, both embarrassed and annoyed. My face had turned red at some point. “William, what did you do last night?” William said casually, “After the competition, I took a shower, video-called you before I even got dressed, then went straight to sleep.” “Did you dream while sleeping?” He raised an eyebrow. “Of course I did.” I gritted my teeth. “What kind of dream! Was I in it?” “Huh? How did you know? I did dream about you. I dreamed that you…” William spoke slowly, and for a moment, his handsome face showed a flash of unnaturalness and embarrassment. He recovered quickly. So quickly that before I could even notice, he was back to his usual infuriating self. My heart was pounding like a drum. “Hurry up and tell me!” I watched William straighten up and look at me, then suddenly smile. “I dreamed you turned into a 250-pound pig about to be slaughtered, crying and begging me to save you, saying you’d only let me bully you from now on and wanted to acknowledge me as your second father in life.” Bastard! I barely restrained myself from slapping him in front of all these people in the cafeteria. “William, I’m asking you seriously.” “I was being pretty serious too.” William was being lazy about it, clearly not planning to tell the truth. I looked at him and my name on his forehead with no expression. Forget it. There’s no point in asking. After all, no one would admit to having a wet dream last night. I’ll just pretend I can’t see it and won’t call him out on it. But still, as good friends who’ve known each other since childhood, is it normal for him to dream about me?

Later, when William and I were having dinner, even though I tried to pretend I couldn’t see it, my name was just too glaring. So glaring that my mind couldn’t help but imagine what William’s dreams were like. And what role I played in them. After all, wet dreams definitely involve those embarrassingly intimate scenes. I’d have to embrace him, kiss him, make love with him… William loves basketball and has a great body, so his stamina… I cursed myself in my head: “Damn it. What am I thinking! Is this something a normal person should be thinking about? Stop it!” The more I thought about it, the more embarrassed I became, the more ashamed I felt, and soon my mind was filled with indecent images. I commanded my brain to stop, but it was useless—my thoughts continued to spiral out of control. In any case, this meal felt heavier than attending a funeral. Seeing my face change colors, William irritably nudged my foot with his. “Kayla, did I do something to upset you today?” I sighed. I didn’t know how to answer such an awkward and supernatural situation. William is my childhood friend. We’ve been fighting and scheming together since we were kids. He’d cause trouble, and I’d keep watch. When I got beaten by parents for leading kids to touch electrical outlets, he’d take responsibility for me. When I failed math, he’d tattle on me, and when girls gave him love letters, I’d be the one tattling on him. In short, we had a love-hate relationship. This continued until now when we got into the same university. I thought we were friends, family, lifelong companions who could support each other. In the future, when I got married, he’d sit at the main table, and when he got married, I’d be his groomsman. But it turns out William actually wants to marry me? What kind of situation is this? It’s completely messed up. This disruption to my life’s order made me instinctively feel uncomfortable. “Sigh…” I sighed again. “Nothing’s wrong, just seeing you puts me in a bad mood.” “Tell me the truth, what’s really going on with me?” William glared at me impatiently. As I hesitated, a sudden flash of inspiration hit me. William having those kinds of feelings for me was probably because I was the only female around him. Once he met other women, he might stop paying so much attention to me and wouldn’t have wet dreams about me anymore. So I probed: “William, we’re freshmen now, old enough to seriously date. Have you had any thoughts about that lately?” William glanced at me. “Why are you asking?” “Just tell me if you have or not.” William narrowed his eyes and stared straight at me. “What, are you having those kinds of thoughts too?” I denied it immediately: “No, I just want to introduce you to a beautiful girl. She’s in our major, really pretty, and you’d definitely have things in common with her.” As I spoke, I hurriedly pulled out my phone to find a contact to recommend to him. William put his fork directly on the table, his expression instantly turning several degrees colder. He refused, “Just eat your food.” “You really won’t try it?” “If you keep talking nonsense, forget about those cosmetics. I’ll dump all your skincare products downstairs at the guys’ dorm to water the flowers.” I had no choice but to sheepishly put my phone away. After dinner, William shoved the gift at me and left with a dark expression. I was on the verge of tears, my head pounding. At the very least, he shouldn’t be strutting around using my name everywhere. It really disgusted me to see it! To make my name disappear from his mind, I texted William again the next day. I asked: [Hey, are you busy?] William: [What?] Me: [A girl from the dorm next to mine is having a birthday party. She wants to invite you. Will you come?] William: [No.] Me: [Come on, just go.] William asked: [Why do I have to go? Do you get a commission for setting people up?] Me: [No, I just want to take you out to meet some beautiful girls. Maybe she’ll take a liking to you too, and that would be perfect.] This time William sent me a very brief voice message. “Get lost.” Great, he was even angrier now. He even stopped replying to my messages altogether. He was already pretty cold to people normally, and now that he was angry, he was even harder to appease. I had to humble myself and apologize, promising not to set him up with any more girls, and even called him “Dear” a few times before he finally started replying to me again. But I didn’t give up. Since introducing him to girlfriends to redirect his attention wasn’t working, I decided to try a different approach. My roommate absolutely loved watching those kinds of movies. Every time she watched one, the fantasy object in her head would change to someone new, both men and women. So I had a brilliant idea and decided to take a desperate gamble. I quickly asked my roommate for a few classic films – high definition, uncensored, the kind that looked really stimulating. Then I immediately ducked into the bathroom to contact William. Me: [What are you doing?] William: [Playing games.] Me: [You can’t figure out games without me playing with you. Stop playing, I’ve got something good to show you.] William didn’t reply. I wasn’t in a hurry. He was definitely quickly finishing this round and then getting back to me. Sure enough, five minutes later, William called me directly. I quickly answered. “Kayla, what do you want to show me? It’s not your photoshopped selfies, is it?” “Bullsh*t, I never photoshop, okay? I’m naturally beautiful.” William snorted disdainfully, but his tone was amused. That laugh traveled through electromagnetic signals to the receiver and into my ears, making my eardrums tingle. I scratched my ear and said guiltily, “Really, it’s something good. I’ll send it to you, and we can watch it together.” “Alright, send it over.” I picked the most stimulating film and sent it to him. The title of this movie was: The Temptation of a Young Wife. You could tell what the content was just from the name. William said with a half-smile, “Hey, did you send the wrong thing?” My face turned red. “No, I didn’t send the wrong thing. I’m curious but don’t dare watch it alone. Keep me company.” “Not watching it,” William refused. I challenged him: “You have to watch it whether you want to or not. I already ordered you a milkshake. When you get it, we’ll watch it together.” “Fine, I’ll reluctantly keep you company.” William slowly added, “It’s just that, Kayla, I never realized you were so…” He didn’t finish the sentence, but I knew he was going to say “thirsty.” ***** I swallowed this humiliation with frustration and heartache. “Mind your own business. I don’t believe you don’t secretly watch this stuff.” “I don’t watch it. I’m pure-hearted and abstinent. My mental state isn’t that vulgar.” “Bullsh*t!” I said through gritted teeth. I thought to myself: “If you’re so abstinent, why do you have those shameless dreams every night?” If it weren’t for making sure the object of his wet dreams was no longer me, would I really stoop so low as to watch this kind of stuff with him late at night?

After William’s smoothie arrived, we continued our voice chat. My roommates were all wearing headphones watching shows, so they couldn’t hear anything. I grabbed my tablet, slipped back into bed, pulled the curtains closed, and put on my headphones too. I whispered, “William, can you watch now?” “Hold on, two roommates just left for an all-nighter at the internet café, and another one’s getting ready to go see his girlfriend. I’ll watch once he’s gone.” “Okay.” So we both went quiet, waiting in silence. But with neither of us talking, all I could hear through the headphones was William’s soft breathing. It was perfectly normal, yet somehow I found myself getting mesmerized by it. I couldn’t help but imagine what William was doing right now. He was probably lounging lazily in his chair, his long legs casually spread out. On his clean desk, the lamp I’d given him was definitely on, casting light across his face. His profile was smooth and defined, with the headphones I’d gotten him for his birthday in his ears. Oh right, those were also a birthday gift from me. And me? My headphones were from him, my tablet was from him, even my backpack was from him. After all these Christmases, our lives had somehow intertwined like this. Finally, I heard voices from his end, and William’s roommate left, closing the door behind him. William called out to me: “Alright, time to appreciate this masterpiece you recommended. Kayla? You there? Don’t tell me you got addicted and started watching without me?” I snapped back to reality, scratching my inexplicably flushed face. “I’m here, I’m here. Let’s start together.” “Mm.” So I hit play. Left earphone for the movie audio, right earphone to talk with William. The first few minutes were just regular plot development between the male and female leads, nothing stimulating. I was still pretty relaxed, complaining to William about the male actor’s awful looks and physique. “This actress is totally suffering on the job.” “Agreed, looks like a toad.” “Oh, William, don’t look at this male actor too much.” William lazily asked, “Why? Afraid he’ll get insecure?” I hesitated. Because I was afraid if he looked too much, he might dream about this actor, and that would make things really awkward. Naturally, I couldn’t tell William that. He’d grab a machete and storm the girls’ dorm to kill me. I laughed dryly, “Afraid you’ll end up looking like him. Look, you two have similar hairstyles. What if your face gets influenced to look the same? Your life would be over.” William snorted, “I’m getting a haircut tomorrow.” I tried hard not to laugh. “Avoidance personality.” “What?” “Questioning type.” “Are you asking for a beating?” “Okay, aggressive type.” “Come on, let’s hang up and video call so I can teach you some manners.” “Oh wow, confrontational type.” I bantered back and forth with William casually. Soon, the plot reached its climax. The male and female leads started kissing, in extreme close-up. I don’t know what filming technique they used, but the sounds were especially prominent through the headphones, intimate and wet. Suddenly the air inside my bed curtains felt suffocating, and a thin layer of sweat broke out on my back. I pressed my lips together irritably. At the same time, inexplicably, William and I gradually talked less and less. Because I didn’t know what to say, and I was afraid that if I spoke, I’d reveal my currently hoarse and flustered voice. That would make me look like a total amateur. After watching quietly for a while longer, I couldn’t take it anymore and hit pause. Now all I could hear through the headphones was William’s breathing and the faint movie sounds from his speakers. I cleared my throat. “William, I’m… I’m getting sleepy. I’m not watching anymore.” After a long pause, William finally responded. His voice was low and husky. It made my eardrums itch even more. He said, “Oh, then I won’t watch either.” “No way, you have to watch. Watch it and tell me the ending.” “What kind of ending could there be?” “Anyway, you have to watch. I’ll ask you about what happens next tomorrow.” William clicked his tongue impatiently. “Kayla, you really know how to create work for me.” After getting his definite agreement, I hung up happily. But there was a little incident that night. Because even I, who’s usually so pure-minded, had an erotic dream. It was very similar to the plot of the adult film I’d watched before bed. Except I couldn’t see the male lead’s face clearly, only that he had a great body with eight-pack abs. His voice was dreamily pleasant. I was still blushing and heart-racing when I woke up. If I could dream after watching it, then William definitely could too. So after finishing a class, I was energetic and incredibly excited as I rushed to wait for William downstairs at the guys’ dorm. But the moment I saw him, I was stunned. Because I discovered that not only had he gotten a haircut early in the morning, but the name of his dream partner on his forehead was even more spectacular than yesterday. My name had gotten bigger, obviously about twice as prominent as before. Watching William walk toward me, my face instantly scrunched up. What was going on? William had watched an adult film, so even if his dream partner wasn’t that toad-like male actor, it should at least be that pretty female actress. How could it still be me?!

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My mother, Alyssa Harris, was the most well-behaved mistress in all of Los Angeles. From childhood, she always told me: “Diana Wright, as an illegitimate daughter, you must be careful and cautious. Never covet anything that belongs to your sister Natalie Wright.” Because of those words, I didn’t dare fight back when the man I loved was taken from me, didn’t dare claim even a fraction of the family fortune, and was ultimately handed over to an old man to be toyed with and humiliated. Only at death did I discover that I was actually the true heiress. Given a second chance at life, I climbed into the bed of Natalie’s boyfriend, Declan Hamilton. This time, let’s see how I destroy them all. ***** When I died, I didn’t even have a single piece of clothing to cover my body. Natalie had tricked me into coming to the hotel to deliver documents, but when I opened the door, three lecherous old men were waiting for me instead. I was brutalized all night long, bleeding uncontrollably from below. But that wasn’t the end of it. Soon, several burly women burst through the door and began beating me with their fists and feet. “You slut! How dare you seduce my husband! I’ll beat you to death!” They clawed at my face with their hands, leaving bloody scratches, then dragged me by my hair toward the door. “Since you have no shame, let everyone see you!” The doorway was right in front of me, and I was completely naked. I desperately clung to the door frame with all my remaining strength. “No, please don’t!” I begged. “Now you want to save face? Too late!” They kicked me viciously in the head, their stiletto heels piercing into the back of my skull. Everything went black as I lost my grip, and I was quickly dragged into the hallway. “Everyone come look! Here’s a shameless homewrecker who seduces men without any clothes on!” The doors nearby slowly opened, some people taking photos, others whispering among themselves. I lay on the ground, my body temperature dropping, consciousness fading. Through my haze, I saw Natalie being protected by a man as they pushed through the crowd. “Diana? I just heard someone was breaking up a family here. How could it be you?” Declan frowned. He said, “Something’s wrong with her condition. We need to get her to a hospital.” “Don’t bother with her. She’s my family’s illegitimate daughter. She’s been trouble since childhood, and now that she’s grown up, she’s following in her mother’s footsteps, destroying other people’s families. Let her learn her lesson…” Declan ignored her, took off his jacket to cover me, and got up to call an ambulance. Afraid of getting involved in trouble, the onlookers quickly dispersed. Natalie dragged me back into the room, pulled off the jacket, and after closing the door, kicked me hard. “I gave him two aphrodisiac pills last night, but he’d rather take cold showers all night than let me touch him. Now he’s actually giving his clothes to you, you bitch. Even in this state, you still can’t help seducing men!” The angrier she got, the more furious she became. She pulled out a bottle of pills from somewhere and poured them all into my mouth, her voice dripping with venom. “You love seducing men so much? I’ll let you seduce them to your heart’s content.” I couldn’t muster any strength left and could only let her do as she pleased. The pills went down one after another and quickly took effect. I began vomiting blood in large amounts. Natalie showed no panic at all, leaning close to my ear and saying: “With this dosage, even an elephant would die from excitement. I’ll never have to worry about my identity being exposed again.” “As for you, hurry up and go reunite with your dead mother!” Only then did some things from the past that I could never understand begin to become clear. No wonder she always told me to give in to Natalie everywhere, warning me not to compete with her for the family inheritance. It turned out that I was the real heiress. I gritted my teeth and said, “Dad…” Natalie sneered, “You think he doesn’t know? Have you ever thought about it? To switch newborn babies, only he could have done such a thing.” I closed my eyes, blood tears streaming down. So that’s how it was. In the last moment before my consciousness faded, I heard someone stride into the room. Natalie cried to that person: “What should we do? I don’t know what kind of drugs she took, but she suddenly started vomiting blood. I’m so scared, Declan…” I couldn’t hear the rest of what she said. I knew I was going to die. How pitiful my life had been, deceived into being Natalie’s stepping stone for her entire life, only to end up like this. I wasn’t willing to accept this. I was so unwilling. If there’s a next life… “Take this document to room 1609 at the Hilton Hotel. I’ve already spoken with Mr. Rowe, so you can go straight in when you arrive. Remember, you must personally hand the document to Mr. Rowe. If you handle this properly, I’ll let you intern at the company.” ***** I jolted awake, and there before me was Natalie—the same woman who had just killed me—with a middle-aged woman in a long dress standing behind her. The woman had a delicate figure, and though she was over forty, she still maintained a girlish physique. This was Alyssa—the woman I’d called “Mom” for over twenty years. A woman who had driven the original wife to her death, risen from mistress to wife, yet somehow earned everyone’s approval. “What are you standing there for?” Alyssa took the document and placed it in my hands. “Natalie is kindly giving you a chance to prove yourself. You should treasure it.” The heavy document envelope landed in my palm, and only then did I truly confirm that I had been reborn. I had been reborn to the day before I was murdered. I bit down hard on my tongue, the metallic taste of blood filling my mouth, then took the document with both hands. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure Natalie is satisfied this time.” Alyssa, Natalie, and my father Samuel Wright—none of them would escape. I needed to think carefully about where to start dealing with them. Looking at Natalie’s smug expression, I suddenly remembered the words I’d heard before dying in my previous life. “Last night we gave him two aphrodisiac pills… wouldn’t let him touch… that bitch… even looking like that, she still doesn’t forget to seduce men…” I slowly began to smile, my mind made up.

When I found Declan, he was already delirious. He was soaking in the bathtub, cold water drenching his clothes, his broad shoulders and narrow waist clearly visible. Hearing the commotion, he barely opened his eyes: “Who?” I grabbed his chin and shook it: “Someone here to help you…” “Don’t touch me! Get out!” He gripped my wrist forcefully, his voice hoarse. Looking at his body struggling with desire, I couldn’t help but marvel—even in this state, he could still resist. No wonder Natalie failed to succeed even after drugging him in my past life. He spoke harshly, forbidding me to come closer. Those words might have worked on Natalie, after all, she had to maintain her wealthy heiress facade. But I was different. After all, I had no shame. I looked into his eyes and reached out my hand… Declan’s expression gradually became intoxicated, and before long he lost control and pulled me into the bathtub. In the heat of passion, I grabbed his hair and opened my mouth, but didn’t know what to call out. “Declan, my name is Declan.” Just as he finished speaking, there was suddenly a knock at the door. “Declan, are you in there?” It was Natalie’s voice outside. Declan’s body was burning hot, his face and neck flushed red, the arm around my waist showing prominent veins, completely lost in desire. He clearly hadn’t heard the commotion outside. I pretended not to hear either, continuing to embrace his neck. That night we were intimate, thoroughly enjoying ourselves. The next morning when I woke up, Declan sat alone on the balcony smoking for a long time. When he returned, he pulled out a card from his wallet and handed it to me expressionlessly. “There’s five hundred thousand dollars here. I know this looks insulting, but it’s the only thing I can give you.” I’d heard people say that men are mostly heartless—they change their tune the moment they get out of bed. Seeing it now, it was indeed true. I didn’t take the card, just looked at him with tears in my eyes. I learned this trick from Alyssa—whenever she showed this expression, Samuel would soften and agree to anything. But Declan wasn’t buying it. He grabbed my chin and pushed it aside, his voice cold: “I have a fiancée.” After putting on his clothes, he transformed back into that aloof, noble man, showing no trace of last night’s passion. I rushed over and hugged him, my naked body pressed against his back, tears falling one by one. Declan’s body stiffened, maintaining this position for a long time. After I’d cried enough, he turned around, took back the card he’d placed on the nightstand, and replaced it with another one. “Two million dollars. Forget about me.” I lifted my head, my gaze falling on his bitten lip, and licked my own lips. “Declan, why don’t you ask my name?” “No need.” His expression remained unchanged, like a celibate priest. “If nothing unexpected happens, we probably won’t see each other again.” He left without any reluctance. That made sense—he was the head of the Hamilton family, not someone ordinary people could just meet whenever they wanted. I lay back down on the bed, letting out a soft laugh. But I wasn’t ordinary people. I was his fiancée’s sister. After lying in the hotel for a day, I still felt sore all over when I got up. I couldn’t help but curse Declan in my mind. He was like a wild animal. Even though he’s thirty years old, he acted like it was his first time, going completely crazy and nearly killing me. I forced myself to drag my body home, and the moment Natalie saw me, she started yelling. “You bitch! I told you to deliver the documents before ten o’clock. Why didn’t you go? Do you have any idea how big a project you cost me?” Alyssa joined in blaming me too. “Natalie was kind enough to let you work at her company, and you can’t even handle such a simple task. How can you face her?” I blinked, and tears instantly rolled down my cheeks. “Mom, last night at the hotel I was… I was forced by someone… My body hurts so much right now… What should I do…” “How is that possible?” Alyssa was shocked. “Didn’t Mr. Rowe and the others say no one showed up last night?” Natalie walked over directly and yanked open my collar. After seeing the red marks all over my chest, her eyes turned red with anger, and she raised her hand to slap me hard across the face. “You idiot! You wasted something so valuable just like that. I already made arrangements with Mr. Rowe, and now where am I supposed to find him a virgin!” The merchandise she’d been raising for over twenty years, sold off to some unknown man before she could get a good price for it. Alyssa was furious too and came over to grab my wrist. “Come on, I’m taking you to report this to the police. We can’t let that bastard get away with it.” “Yes!” I wiped my tears and pulled out a card from my pocket. “By the way, he gave me two million dollars afterward. This is the evidence.” The next second, the card was snatched away. Alyssa’s anger turned to joy, and her eyes lit up as her attitude immediately changed. “Let’s forget about reporting to the police. If word of this gets out, how will you face people in the future? Consider this money compensation for Natalie.” Natalie, who had taken the card, was also beaming with joy. “For Alyssa’s sake, I’ll forgive you this time.” I looked up at her with my swollen face. “Thank you, Natalie… For your birthday party in a few days, could you let me come and meet some people?” Natalie was in such a good mood that for the first time, she didn’t fly into a rage after hearing me call her by her name. Instead, she generously agreed. I looked at her smiling face and smiled slightly myself. I thought to myself: “Go ahead and smile. You won’t be smiling much longer.”

I arrived a bit late to the birthday party. Just as I was about to push the door open, a familiar male voice came from behind me. “Why did you come out?” His voice was deep and gentle, making my heart skip a beat. It was Declan. I smiled and stepped back two paces before turning around, burying my head against his chest and nuzzling affectionately. “Are you drunk?” Declan’s body stiffened for a moment. He steadied my shoulders and subtly stepped back. I looked up with a suppressed smile. The next second, his expression changed drastically. “How is it you?” I gazed at him, my voice soft. “I came to celebrate Natalie’s birthday.” Declan was stunned for a moment, his expression darkening. “You’re the Wright family’s illegitimate daughter? Then you must also know about my relationship with Natalie?” I looked at him and nodded honestly. Declan closed his eyes briefly. “Why didn’t you push me away that night?” “By the time you told me your name, things had already gone that far, and besides…” I placed my hand on his arm, speaking softly, “You were holding me so tightly then, how could I have pushed you away?” As if recalling that scene, his face showed a moment of discomfort before quickly returning to its usual coldness. “Don’t mention what happened that night again. Let’s pretend we never met. Natalie is wearing the same dress as you today—don’t upset her. Go back.” Declan was tall with an upright posture, looking distinguished and refined in his dress shirt and slacks. Natalie was truly blessed. I looked up at him, my eyes slightly red. “I did buy the same dress as hers, but that’s because I heard you helped her choose it. I thought you liked it. I wore this just hoping you’d look at me a little longer—isn’t that allowed?” Declan was slightly taken aback, his gaze on my face unfathomable. After a long moment, his Adam’s apple moved slightly. “You and I are impossible.” “I know.” I said with self-mockery, “How could someone with my background be worthy of you?” “It’s not about background—” “Don’t say anymore, I understand everything.” I interrupted his explanation with a bitter smile. “But I took two hours on the bus to get here—you should at least let me have a bite to eat before I leave.” Declan frowned, immediately catching the key point. “Why did you take the bus? Didn’t I give you a card that day?” I lowered my head without speaking. The quieter it became out here, the clearer the voices from the private room beside us became. “Two million dollars in the first month of starting your business! Natalie, you really are a business genius.” “Come on, tell us—did Mr. Hamilton give you guidance?” I quietly looked up. Declan’s face was expressionless, but his eyes were brewing a storm. After a moment, he pushed the door open and went in. Seeing Declan, Natalie’s sweet smile had just begun to bloom when she noticed me following right behind him—and the dress I was wearing. Everyone’s eyes darted back and forth between us. “What a coincidence—you’re wearing the same outfit! Natalie, looks like you two have the same taste.” Natalie’s face instantly flushed red. If Declan hadn’t been there, she probably would have torn my dress off and thrown it away by now. Instead, she forced a smile and grabbed my wrist, saying, “Great minds think alike between us sisters.” I was a bit surprised that Natalie didn’t lose it. Don’t let her gentle, kind, and gracious exterior fool you—the moment she got home and saw me, she’d flip like a switch, turning into a raging wild boar. The slightest thing would set her off, and she’d beat me black and blue. I was like an invisible trigger attached to her body. In my past life, I never understood why. Now I was starting to get it. Outside, she was the noble legitimate daughter. But coming home and seeing Alyssa would immediately remind her that this woman everyone called a homewrecker was actually her biological mother. The massive contrast was torture for her. But since she couldn’t take it out on Alyssa, I—the one who’d taken her place—naturally became her punching bag. I knew she wanted to hold it in until we got home to settle the score with me. Too bad I was about to make that impossible. Her nails dug into my flesh, sending sharp pain through my wrist. I smiled and delivered another blow. “Natalie, I even prepared a special gift for you.” I opened my palm and held out a luxurious, sparkling diamond brooch. In an instant, everyone’s expression changed. Because this brooch was identical to the one pinned to her chest. In fact, my diamond was even bigger than hers. Someone stirred the pot: “Natalie, looks like your dad treats this illegitimate daughter better than he treats you!” Actually, if you looked closely, both the dress and the jewelry were quite different from hers. After all, hers came from a luxury brand, globally limited edition. My dress was a hundred-dollar Amazon purchase, and the brooch cost $9.99. Just like me, they reeked of cheapness. Even though she knew I couldn’t afford these things, seeing the illegitimate daughter who used to never fight back or talk back—who acted like a humble servant in front of her—now openly challenging her made the authenticity suddenly seem less important. If I wasn’t mistaken, all she wanted right now was to put me in my place. Sure enough, she switched to rage mode in a heartbeat, raising her hand and slapping me hard across the face. “You bastard child of a homewrecker! How dare you show off in front of me!” Still not satisfied, she grabbed the cake from the table and smashed it into my face. “That face of yours looks exactly like your homewrecker mother—makes me sick just looking at it!” I couldn’t help wanting to laugh. That was her mother too. Alyssa probably had no idea that the daughter she’d elevated to the position of legitimate heiress secretly despised her so much. Someone came over and pulled Natalie away, and the cake plate crashed to the floor. I could finally breathe again. “It’s just a brooch. I’ll have someone make you a crown, okay? It’s your birthday—don’t be upset.” I wiped the cream off my face and looked toward that voice. Declan was bent over, gently cleaning the cream from Natalie’s fingers. His profile was handsome and tender—completely different from the cold indifference he showed me. I curved my lips into a smile. Natalie had gotten one thing right. I was just as low as Alyssa. She seduced my father, and I wanted to seduce Declan.

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I had been in a secret relationship with my brother’s best friend for seven years and we were planning to get married. I followed the location and found his gathering, but as I reached the door of the private room, I overheard their conversation. “Ethan Shaw, your Cinderella is back. What are you going to do about that stand-in little sister?” He didn’t reply. The atmosphere became tense and another friend laughed, “It’s impressive how bold Ethan is. He dared to pursue Adam’s sister. Now he’s used her up and yet, Amanda is back…” “She left so decisively back then, she deserves to have a stand-in to irritate her!” The next day, Ethan took me to Amanda’s welcome banquet, showering me with affectionate gestures. But when Amanda ran out crying, he pushed me aside and rushed after her in panic. I returned home covered in spilled soup and burns and opened the door to the study—one he never allowed me to enter. On the desk, their photo together was so conspicuous. My heart turned to ash and I called my brother overseas. “Brother, I’ve made up my mind about the arranged marriage. I agree!” ***** “Emma Snow, have you been wronged?” My brother paused on the other end of the line for a moment before his voice filled with deep concern. I forced a lighthearted smile, despite the bitterness rising in my throat. “No, I’ve just figured it out. I’m going to get married anyway, so does it matter to whom?” “Besides, I trust Mom and Dad’s judgment. Even if it’s an arranged marriage, I’m sure the candidate has been thoroughly vetted by you all.” Only then did my brother let out a relieved sigh. His tone softened, “I’m glad you’ve figured it out. When are you coming back? Do you want to meet him before making the final decision?” “No need, the sooner we agree, the sooner the company crisis can be resolved. You can start preparing for the wedding and let’s set the date for a month from now.” “Got it! By the way, do you still have contact with Ethan? I heard his goddess is finally back. You should reach out to him, maybe he’ll have time to come celebrate with you and bring some good luck.” I was surprised that my brother knew about Amanda. No wonder Ethan had always insisted I keep our relationship a secret from him. I lowered my gaze to hide the pang in my heart. “Brother, don’t bother him. I’m not close to him.” Just then, I heard the sound of the door unlocking. I said my goodbyes and hung up the phone. I looked up to meet Ethan’s smiling eyes. “Not close to whom?” “Not close to you!” I said honestly, but Ethan raised an eyebrow and mischievously pulled me into his embrace. “Really? Then tell me how you’re not close to me. Are we not close enough, or have we not shared enough nights together, hmm?” His breath was warm against my ear. Our once intimate behavior that made my heart race now only made me feel uncomfortable and repelled. As I struggled, I noticed the lipstick stain on his shirt collar. The burns on my body ached and I didn’t know where the pain came from, but it was so sharp it brought tears to my eyes. “Emma, what’s wrong? Are you feeling unwell?” Ethan panicked as soon as he saw my tears. He rolled up his sleeve and saw the large red marks on my wrist, his voice trembling with concern. “How did this happen? When did you get burned? Why didn’t you tell me?” It seemed like he had completely forgotten what had happened at the banquet. I remained silent, unsure whether I should remind him and shatter his mask of feigned affection.   “All right, stop crying now. I’ll put some medicine on it for you.” He gently patted my head to soothe me as he got up to grab the first aid kit, muttering along the way. “Look at you—such a big girl, but still afraid of pain and always crying. What would you do without me?” I stared blankly at the red burn mark on my wrist. “Yes, I’d been spoiled for a full seven years. What would I do without him?” “But, Ethan, I don’t want you anymore. I don’t want this fake love anymore.” I said to myself. That night, I couldn’t sleep well and woke up covered in sweat. Just as dawn was breaking, Ethan pulled me out of bed. I grumbled, trying to push him away, but he just chuckled and leaned in to kiss me. Instantly, all my sleepiness vanished. I almost slapped him, but barely managed to hold myself back. Luckily, it was just a quick kiss. “Awake yet, my Sleeping Beauty?” I turned away, wiping my mouth in disgust. “It’s the weekend. Why can’t you let people sleep in?” Ethan looked helpless. “Did you know you had a fever last night? Get up; I’m taking you to the hospital.” Although I felt mostly fine, I couldn’t argue with him, so I reluctantly got up. In the hospital corridor, we unexpectedly ran into Amanda. It looked like she had hurt her foot and was struggling to hop down the hallway on her own. Ethan, who had been gentle just moments before, instantly frowned. Forgetting I was beside him, he rushed over to Amanda and held her, asking in concern, “What happened?” Amanda smiled at him, looking past him toward me. “It’s just a sprained ankle. What a coincidence; you two are here for a checkup too?” Ethan’s expression froze. He glanced back at me, his eyes shifting. “Yeah, my ‘little sister’ here had a bit of a fever, so I brought her in for a check-up.” I had grown used to being called “sister” by now. From the moment Ethan decided not to go public with our relationship, he introduced me as his friend’s little sister, someone he was helping to look after. Only his closest friends knew of our true relationship. Amanda nodded. “She’s staying at your place, so of course, you have to look after her carefully. You two go on; I need to head over there.” She gestured toward the other clinic on the opposite side. Seeing her start hopping again, Ethan didn’t think twice before scooping her up in his arms. “Let me take you over. Emma, wait here for me.” For some reason, as soon as I saw Amanda, I suddenly felt weak, drained of all energy. I leaned against the wall, saying nothing. Ethan hadn’t actually asked for my permission. After those words, he was already carrying Amanda toward the other clinic. The fact, no matter how well he acted, when faced with Amanda, genuine feelings slip through, betraying the facade. And Ethan didn’t even realize it. I forced a bitter smile, turned and walked to my own clinic. Apparently, it wasn’t just in my head; after checking my temperature, I learned my fever was as high as 41.3°C. The burn had become infected, worsened by my recent emotional stress, leading to a viral infection that required IV treatment. Out of habit, I reached for my phone to call Ethan, but stopped myself before dialing. Habit was a terrifying thing. I gave a self-mocking smile, put my phone away, William to get my medication and headed to the IV room alone.

After finishing my IV, I felt even dizzier. I took a few steps and almost stumbled. Ethan still hadn’t returned—no calls, no messages. Reluctantly, I decided to call him first to avoid any misunderstandings. When he heard I was still at the hospital, he paused for a moment. “I’m sorry, Emma. I planned to come back for you right after taking Amanda home, but her stomach started acting up, so…” Before he could finish, I overheard a waitress in the background. “Sir, your dishes are all served. Please enjoy your meal!” Though Ethan quickly covered the receiver, I’d already heard it all. “It’s fine. I’m on my own—I can manage.” I said it to reassure myself and to reassure him. Just as I was about to hang up, he suddenly called out my name, “Emma, just head home. I’ll explain everything later.” Explain what, exactly? Just more lies to string me along. I ended the call without a word and arranged for a driver to take me home. But that night, Ethan didn’t come back. Kept awake by the fireworks outside, I pulled out my tablet and resumed sketching custom jewelry designs for a client. While working, I accidentally brushed the chat app in the lower right corner and a new post from an hour ago appeared. It was from Amanda: a beautiful shot of fireworks bursting against the night sky, captioned with poetic words: “After half a lifetime away, I return to you. And here, the fireworks bloom, a welcome in all its glory!” I stared at the post for a long time, only realizing when I tried to log out that the chat app was still logged into Ethan’s account on my tablet. Felt uninterested in prying into their flirtations, I simply logged out of the app. The next morning, feeling somewhat refreshed, I arrived at the office on time. The manager held my resignation letter and when she heard I was going back home to get married, she looked both happy and wistful. “With you leaving, I’m losing one of my best team members.” Unsure of what to say, I gave her a hug and thanked her for all the support over the years. After completing the formalities, my colleagues heard the news and insisted on a farewell meal to celebrate my upcoming wedding. I didn’t decline and booked a table at a restaurant Ethan and I frequented. It was one of the few restaurants I knew and the food was genuinely good. Halfway through the meal, I excused myself to go to the restroom, only to run into Amanda. She greeted me warmly, “Didn’t expect to see you here, too! You know, this was the restaurant Ethan first brought me to back in college. We’ve come here so many times.” I gave her a polite smile and was about to leave, not considering our relationship close enough for small talk. But she didn’t seem to feel the same. Just as I was about to go, she stopped me again. “I noticed last time that Ethan always rinses the shrimp in water before peeling it for you. Do you also not eat spicy food?” The word also made me pause for a moment. The truth is, I do enjoy spicy food. But every time Ethan peeled shrimp for me, he’d insist on rinsing it in water. He always said it wasn’t good for a girl to eat too much spice. I had always thought he was looking out for my health. But now, I realized it was simply a habit. The one who didn’t eat spicy food—the one he was thinking of—is Amanda.

Seeing that I was silent, she tilted her head slightly, carefully studying my face. “I’ve wanted to say this since the first time we met—don’t you think we look very much alike, little sister?” In that moment, I had never felt such humiliation and disgrace. Under her triumphant gaze, I could only flee in panic. Back in the private room, my colleagues’ warmth began to thaw my icy blood. Just as I was about to cast aside that unpleasant encounter, the door to the room swung open. Seeing the two full tables of people, Ethan froze for a moment, then locked eyes with me. I could see the restrained anger in his gaze, though I couldn’t understand why. He clenched his fists before finally calling my name, ordering me outside. Puzzled, I followed him out, only to be met with a hard slap in the corridor. It was the first time he had ever hit me. As I stared at him in disbelief, he showed no sign of guilt or hesitation—just pure fury. “Why did you push Amanda? You knew she had a twisted ankle! I told you I’d explain things when we got back, but you just had to handle it so harshly?” My cheek burned with pain. In the distance, Amanda hobbled toward us, her shirt rumpled, stained with water and dirt. Just as I opened my mouth to explain, she fell to the ground with a dramatic thud. Without a second thought, Ethan pushed past me and rushed over, cradling her in his arms. “I told you I’d bring her over to apologize to you. Why did you come out here?” he said. Though his words sounded reproachful, his voice was filled with tenderness. With tears in her eyes, Amanda shook her head at him. “It’s not a big deal; she didn’t do it on purpose. Don’t be so hard on her.” “If her brother finds out you hit his sister, it might hurt the bond between you two,” she added. At the mention of my brother, a strange expression crossed Ethan’s face, but his resolve returned as he looked back at Amanda. “Her brother entrusted her to me, so it’s my duty to correct her when she’s in the wrong,” he said firmly. I laughed bitterly and couldn’t resist asking, “What exactly did I do wrong? Even in court, you need solid evidence to convict someone. Haven’t you thought about how unfair it is to judge me and even lay hands on me without understanding the truth?” Ethan clenched his fists, glaring at me. “You knew there were no cameras in the restroom, so you thought you could act without consequence.” I felt both amused and stung by the injustice. “If there are no cameras, then how can you be sure it was me?” “Why would Amanda wrongfully accuse you? She must have a reason, right? Besides, I’ve known her for years—she’s not the kind of person who lies.” “And I am?” I asked, my voice barely hiding the bitterness. After seven years together, I thought he would trust my character, if nothing else. But I was wrong. In front of Amanda, even seven years meant nothing. One word from her was all it took to convict me, leaving me without a chance to defend myself. It was blatant favoritism, a glaring display of partiality. And I, in the end, was nothing more than a stand-in, a replacement with nothing to offer. Seeing no point in arguing further, I turned to leave, ignoring Ethan’s furious commands to stay. With the mark of his slap still on my face, I didn’t want to ruin my colleagues’ mood, so I chose not to return to the private room. Instead, I went to the front desk, paid the bill and sent them a message: “Something urgent came up, so I had to leave. Enjoy the meal and drinks—it’s on me!”   Dragging my exhausted body back home, I took a long, detailed look at this place where I’d lived for the past seven years. Every corner held memories of Ethan and me—once so beautiful, now stabbing into my heart like a thousand sharp blades. I found a large cardboard box and, unable to sleep, spent the night erasing those remnants of happiness. There were slippers with our “cat and dog” love diary design, the matching couple mugs that fit together, the keychains that sensed each other within ten meters and a whole box of photos and portraits. These were once the only proof of our relationship, especially in those times when I felt insecure. Now, there was no need for any of it. Ethan didn’t come home for half a month. In that time, apart from finishing my design drafts, I nearly cleared out the entire house. I even disposed of the furniture I’d chosen myself, leaving the place as it was when I first moved in—black and white, so minimalist that you could see the entire room in a single glance. The night before I left, I thought I should at least say something to Ethan, so I called him. But every time I dialed, he kept rejecting my calls. After a while, he sent me a message. “If you haven’t realized your mistake and aren’t genuinely ready to apologize to Amanda, then I don’t think there’s any reason for us to speak.” I smiled bitterly. Well, if that’s the case, then we won’t speak. Early the next morning, I headed out with my suitcase for my flight. As I left what was once my warm and cherished home, I felt nothing but overwhelming relief. Just before boarding, my phone buzzed with countless birthday messages. Some wished me great success, some wished me peace and happiness and some wished me a blessed marriage with a wonderful partner. After replying to each one, I turned off my phone. As the plane took off, I thought to myself: I will be happy! With so many blessings, I knew I would be.

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