Author: Momo Chan

My husband was cheating on me with the housewife downstairs. Her husband and I used to hide in the stairwell smoking. We wouldn’t dare go back inside until they were finished having their fun. Later, they grew increasingly brazen. The housewife’s husband said to me, “I’m going in to catch them in the act. What about you?” I took a bite of my hot dog, completely unfazed. “You catch yours, I’ll catch mine!” 01 I gently pulled the front door shut and let out a heavy breath. I miscalculated. I should have called ahead. If I hadn’t been so quick-witted, that scene would have been incredibly awkward. Let’s just wait for them. You have to pamper your own husband, right? I pushed open the heavy fire door, planning to head up to the half-landing between the 18th and 19th floors for some air. But just a few steps up, I saw the guy from the 18th floor standing there, smoking a cigarette. “Well, you locked out too?” He gave me a flat, sidelong glance. “Said she was making dessert for me. The kitchen is dead cold, and the egg tarts are still in the delivery box. I don’t know what to do either!” We were in the same boat. I bummed a lighter off him, and we started making small talk just to kill time. We covered local news, national politics, and were just about to dive into the complexities of the global economy. Finally, sounds of movement and sticky-sweet voices drifted up from below. The man checked his watch. “Half an hour. Your husband has decent stamina.” “Men like to hold it in. Honestly, the average is ten minutes.” “Ha, I feel personally attacked!” 02 When I got back home and was changing my shoes, Ethan walked out of the kitchen wearing an apron. He took my coat and bag. “Hungry? The soup is ready, I just need to stir-fry a couple of quick sides.” I could already smell the aroma of chicken and mushroom soup. But given what I’d just witnessed downstairs, I had reasonable grounds to suspect I’d been eating pre-packaged meals this whole time. Still, I put on a blissful smile. “Honey, you work so hard!” Ethan looked at me with profound tenderness. “You’re the one working hard out there! “Go have some tea, I brewed some fruit tea. Dinner in ten minutes.” Holding my glass, I scanned the apartment. The fuzzy throw pillows on the sofa were a bit rumpled. The trash can in the living room had a fresh liner. The bedroom window was wide open, letting in a strong scent of gardenias. The bathroom had clearly just been used; there were still wet spots on the floor. Overall, no glaring oversights. I nodded in satisfaction. “Honey, dinner’s ready.” “Coming!” I poured the fruit tea down the drain, put down the glass, and headed to the dining room. At the table, we ate in comfortable silence. Suddenly, Ethan mentioned that the keys on his laptop were sticking, and brought up a new smartwatch that was just released. I always catch on quickly. I immediately pulled out my phone and transferred ten thousand dollars to his account. Ethan’s attitude became visibly more attentive. He was serving me food and scooping my soup. Before clearing the table, he even cut up a plate of fruit for me. While I was looking at the message Liam, the guy from downstairs, had just sent me. [Transferred money to your husband?] [How much did your wife get?] [Eight thousand eight hundred!] [Tsk, a twelve-hundred-dollar difference. The middleman really takes a cut.] When we went to sleep that night, Ethan and I lay in the same bed, but it felt like the Grand Canyon was between us. At 1:00 AM, my phone rang. I jolted awake and quickly answered it. “Hello, Mr. Davis?” “Yes, yes, of course. The quote I gave you is the absolute lowest I can go.” “Yes, absolutely. I understand, things are tough for everyone right now.” “How about this? Let me buy you lunch next time, and we can discuss the details.” “Alright, have a good night.” Hanging up, I heard the rustle of the person next to me turning over. “Honey? Did I wake you? I’m sorry!” “It’s fine, I wasn’t asleep anyway. You should go to sleep, you have to get up early tomorrow!” Aww, my husband is so understanding. I hit the pillow and fell asleep instantly. At 2:40 AM, the phone rang again. I didn’t even open my eyes. I mumbled a few words and hung up. The person next to me was tossing and turning again. I smacked my lips and fell back into a deep sleep. At 4:00 AM, the familiar ringtone blared once more. The person next to me shot up from the bed and walked out of the room. I reached out, silenced the alarm, pulled the covers over my head, and went back to sleep! I woke up early, stretched, and greeted another beautiful day. I ran into Liam in the elevator. I nodded at him and yawned. “What’s wrong? Didn’t sleep well?” “I slept fine. I just set three alarms before bed.” “Tsk, mutually assured destruction?” I squinted comfortably. “I sleep like a rock; I pass out the second my head hits the pillow. He’s different. He’s a light sleeper. He didn’t sleep a wink last night!” “Can’t he just nap during the day?” “Well, that depends on your wife! By the way, how was your night?” Liam frowned so hard you could crush a walnut between his brows. “She was needy. Kept me up half the night. Your husband isn’t cutting it; he clearly didn’t satisfy her!” “No way!” I rubbed my chin. “I’ve bought him so many expensive supplements!” Liam pursed his lips. “I think I need to go on a business trip.” “Seconded!” 03 Before my “business trip,” I tossed an old phone with three preset alarms into the safe, and changed the safe’s passcode. That afternoon, I sent Ethan a text from an unknown number. [Honey, I lost my phone. I can’t get a new SIM card while I’m abroad. I’ll contact you when I get back to the States.] Of course, I didn’t actually leave the country. I just booked a room at a nearby hotel. I ate well and drank well every day. And I cackled with glee while watching the live feed of Ethan standing in front of the safe, smoking cigarette after cigarette in the middle of the night. On the fourth day of my trip, the old phone in the safe finally died. Liam and I met up for some BBQ nearby. He said: “I’m going in to catch them in the act tonight. What about you?” I chewed on my brisket. “You catch yours, I’ll catch mine!” The scene played out like this: Liam and I stormed in, kicking open the bedroom door with lightning speed. Ethan was on top of Liam’s wife. She was screaming “Ah! Ah!” and scratching Ethan’s back. I couldn’t help but blink. Is it really that good? Must be faking it! It never felt like that when I was with him. While I was still swallowing my shock, Liam had already gotten into character. His face was pale, his body trembling. “How… how could you do this to me!” The two on the bed were terrified, fighting over the blanket to cover themselves. Ethan was no match for Liam’s wife, so he panicked and started hastily throwing on his clothes. Liam shot me a look: Act! I quickly found my motivation and screamed at the top of my lungs: “Ethan, you bastard!” And then? Should we fight? Probably! Liam and I exchanged a glance. He charged at Ethan; I lunged at his wife. I ripped off the blanket, grabbed her by the hair, and slapped her hard a few times. She screamed for help. But the only person who could save her was currently being pinned to the floor and pulverized by her husband. The screams, the begging, the cursing—it was music to my ears. After letting it all out, Liam and I stood in the stairwell having a post-fight cigarette. Half an hour later, he went downstairs, and I went upstairs. 04 Ethan was sitting on the sofa, bruised and battered. The apartment had been cleaned up. But this time, he clearly hadn’t used the gardenia room spray. The air smelled disgusting. No acting required this time; it was all genuine emotion. “Ethan, I want a divorce!” He snapped his head up. His eyes held vulnerability, guilt, and pleading. Ethan was a good-looking guy. In college, he was both a top student and the quintessential frat boy heartthrob. People always said about him: “He’s the most handsome guy among programmers, and the best programmer among handsome guys.” They said I only wanted him for his looks. Well, yeah… why wouldn’t I? But looking at the swollen pig-face in front of me now, I couldn’t feel a single ripple of attraction. He dropped to his knees with a loud thump. “Honey, I’m sorry. I lost my mind. Please give me another chance. Let’s not get divorced, okay?” Okay my ass! “Ethan, I bust my ass working out there just to support this family, to give you a better life, and this is how you repay me?” “I know I was wrong. I shouldn’t have done it. I swear, there will absolutely never be a next time. Honey, please, give me one more chance.” “How long have you two been together?” “Just this once! Really, just this once. She came over to borrow some soy sauce. I was an idiot, I couldn’t control myself when she seduced me!” Ha, if I hadn’t installed hidden cameras in the apartment, I might have actually believed him. Borrowing soy sauce? What a creative excuse. “Ethan, you’ve broken my heart. I’m divorcing you!” “Honey, honey, I know I was wrong. Just give me one more chance. Just this once.” He shuffled forward on his knees and hugged my legs. I kicked him away in disgust, stormed into the guest bedroom, and locked the door with a loud bang. Ethan was still outside, begging. I yelled: “Shut up! I don’t want to hear you speak. Leave me alone so I can calm down.” “Okay, okay, I won’t say a word. As long as we don’t divorce, whatever you want is fine!” I dropped the crying act, curled my lip, and texted Liam: [How are things on your end?] [She won’t agree to a divorce. You?] [Same!] But this was all within my expectations. If they agreed to a divorce that easily, it would be too boring. What’s the next step? When the heavens are about to place a great responsibility on a person, they first test their resolve. Let’s start with a course of the silent treatment. 05 I stopped speaking to Ethan. I didn’t even look at him. If he made me a sandwich, I threw it directly into the trash. I ignored his calls and deleted his texts without reading them. I came home late every night, smelling of alcohol. I refused to sleep in the same bed with him. Ethan was visibly deteriorating. He suffered from insomnia night after night and started taking Paxil again. Finally, his emotional tension reached its breaking point. On the eighth day, he blocked my path: “We need to talk.” I sidestepped his hand, flicked some imaginary dust off my shoulder, and said coldly: “Six PM. I’ll be back.” “Okay, I’ll be waiting!” I arrived home at 6:30 PM. Ethan was pacing anxiously. “You’re back! Are you hungry? Do you want to eat first? I made your favorites!” I slammed my handbag down on the table. “Cut the crap. Talk. What do you want to talk about?” Ethan clenched his fists. “I’m exhausted too. I’m at home every day, cleaning the house, waiting for you to come back, cooking for you. I feel less and less joy. I don’t even feel like myself anymore.” I knew exactly what he was going to say. He was going to talk about his hardships, my neglect of the family, and my lack of care for him. These were the exact same things he had complained about to Liam’s wife. And conveniently, Liam’s wife had the same complaints about Liam. So they hit it off instantly and found a shared connection. I watched Ethan wallow in self-pity. To be honest, I felt absolutely nothing. “This is the life you begged for. You were the one who said work was too stressful and you wanted to take some time off. I agreed without a second thought. From then on, your expenses, the mortgage, the car loan—it all fell on my shoulders. And this is how you repay me?” “You only see your own hardships, but what about me? Audrey, have you ever considered my feelings? Have you ever thought about making time for me? I’m a man. I need a gentle, caring wife like Chloe, not a boss who only knows how to boss me around!” Chloe? It took me a second to process. Oh, right! Liam’s wife! Pfft, he almost broke my character. I quickly delivered the most important line of the day: “Ethan, admit it. You’re just a selfish, cowardly, incompetent freeloader who thinks too highly of himself. You’re a shameless scumbag. You’re like a rat in a gutter; just looking at you makes me sick.” “Shut up!” “Why should I shut up? Am I not telling the truth?” I took a step forward, putting myself right in his striking distance. With the physical proximity and the verbal insults, he finally snapped and shoved me hard. “I said shut up!” “Ah!” A sharp pain shot through me. Fuck, I twisted my ankle. I fell to the floor. The next second, bright red blood seeped out from under me. My expression twisted in shock. I looked up blankly, my hand clutching my stomach. “My baby!” 06 Ethan’s advancing footsteps came to a dead halt. “What baby?” Ever since he hooked up with the housewife downstairs, we hadn’t been intimate in over half a year. Men are truly bizarre creatures. He can cheat with complete justification and shamelessly beg for forgiveness. But if a woman does the same thing, he acts as if he’s suffered the ultimate humiliation. “Who is it? Is it that guy who drove you home last time? Or the one who answered the phone when you were on your business trip? Audrey, how could you do this to me?” The corner of my mouth curled up. Using my most sarcastic, biting tone, I hissed through gritted teeth: “What? You became a dirty man-whore, and I’m supposed to stay pure and chaste for you? “Do you think too highly of yourself, or do you look down on me too much? “I got bored of your three-minute stamina a long time ago. “Now is perfect. We can just call it quits. “But don’t even think about taking a single cent of my money!” Under my relentless provocations, Ethan’s breathing grew heavier and heavier. His eyes were bloodshot, his body tense and trembling. “Shut up, shut up! Shut your mouth!” “Ha!” I scoffed. “What if I don’t? What are you gonna do, strangle me?” That one sentence seemed to snap something in Ethan. The moment the words left my mouth, he lunged at me, pinning me to the floor and wrapping his hands tightly around my throat. One second. Two seconds. Three seconds. Figures burst into the room. Ethan was tackled off me. The pressure on my neck vanished, and I gasped greedily for air. “Could you have waited any longer? Were you trying to collect my corpse?” Liam helped me up. “Fuck, you didn’t tell me you were taking it this far! Why is there blood? Are you pregnant?” “Fake blood.” “Alright then!” The people pinning Ethan down were all familiar faces—neighbors from the floors above and below. They looked suspicious, but their faces also betrayed undeniable curiosity. I yelled right on cue: “It’s bad enough you cheated, but now you want to silence me?! I’m calling the cops! I’m having you arrested!”

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Working overtime on Thanksgiving weekend meant triple pay. I volunteered for it. But that didn’t stop me from cursing my boss, Ethan Vance. In front of the breakfast diner, I touched up my lipstick using the reflection of the tinted window on a parked Rolls-Royce. While I was at it, I muttered a curse: “I hope the boss marries a woman with acne and has a son without an a—hole.” Assuming the car was empty, I blew a kiss at the window. I checked my makeup and was about to leave. Suddenly, the window rolled down smoothly, revealing a cold, arrogant, and incredibly handsome face. A face I had seen on the giant screens during company-wide meetings. First glance: Looks a bit like… Second glance: Wait, is that… Third glance: …Fuck. Isn’t that my boss, Ethan Vance? He was wearing a bespoke suit. His long, elegant fingers rested lightly on a stack of pristine documents. In the dim interior of the car, his features looked sharp and enigmatic. His deep eyes stared at me with a half-smile. Then, a voice straight out of a nightmare spoke: “Which department are you in?” My brain went into overdrive. Did I say his name just now? No, right? I didn’t, right? Maybe I did… Damn my big mouth… I instinctively played dumb: “C-Company? I don’t work for your boss…” Then, the driver in the front seat snorted and let out a laugh: “Miss, I can see your employee ID badge around your neck.” The gloating expression on his face was too obvious. I accepted my fate with an awkward laugh: “What a coincidence, Mr. Vance! I was just brainstorming how to maximize profits for the company, and look! Here you are! Working on a holiday weekend, such dedication! I must learn from your example.” In the front seat, the driver’s look turned from amusement to disdain, clearly mocking how fast I folded. All I wanted to do was flee the scene of the crime. Before I could hail a cab, Ethan Vance spoke up: “It’s not a coincidence.” His thin lips barely moved, his eyes narrowing slightly: “I’ve been sitting here, face-to-face, listening to you for a solid ten minutes…” He dragged out his words, looking at me dangerously: “So, do you have some grievances with the company?” I shrank my neck, wishing I could pull it into my collarbone, and denied it rapidly: “No…” After three seconds of silence, he asked again: “Then do you have grievances… with me?” My scalp tingled: “How could that be! I am completely satisfied with you!” And then, the entire car fell dead silent. 02 Ten minutes later, I was sitting in the boss’s Rolls-Royce, feeling like a criminal being personally escorted to the guillotine by the king. The car smelled faintly of sandalwood. The only sound was the rustle of paper as Ethan flipped through his documents. My whole body felt stiff. I sneakily pulled out my phone and tearfully texted my online crush: “Waaaah, Sweetie, I was just caught badmouthing my evil boss right to his face! I don’t think I’ll live to see the moon tonight. If only everyone was as nice as you…” “Sweetie” was a finance guru I met online. When I first started interning at the company during my senior year, he taught me a lot. He seemed to know everything and could easily solve any problem I ran into. As we chatted more, we started pseudo-dating online. But we hadn’t met in person yet. I told my best friend about it. She looked at me cautiously and told me her last online crush turned out to be a 5-foot-2 guy who weighed 250 pounds. She was harassed for three months and had to fly back from Europe just to shake him off. So, when Sweetie asked to meet up over the Thanksgiving weekend, I refused. My excuse was that my boss was making me work overtime. But I didn’t expect the company to actually issue an overtime notice later. I sent Sweetie a barrage of messages complaining about it. Before I got a reply, Ethan’s phone vibrated twice. I subconsciously turned slightly and saw him frown as he glanced at my phone. Then, his clear eyes moved from my phone to my face, lingering so long that I started blushing. After a long while, he turned his head, rested his index finger against his jaw, and let out a low chuckle. His voice was deep and magnetic, like aged wine, intoxicating. My heart skipped a beat: “M-Mr. Vance? Is there something you need?” He spoke slowly: “Come to my office this afternoon.” I’m dead. Me: “Yes, Mr. Vance.” 03 It wasn’t until noon that Sweetie replied: “Sorry, I was working and didn’t see this. Baby, it’s a minor thing. Your boss probably won’t hold it against you.” I immediately replied: “No, no, no. A 30-year-old unmarried man like our boss is a pressure cooker of emotions. I’m probably going to be his punching bag…” I regretted it instantly: “Why do I have such a big mouth.” Thinking about how no unauthorized women had ever entered Ethan’s office, I felt even more terrified. Just as I was hesitating outside his door, the elevator dinged, and out stepped a gorgeous, long-legged woman. Chloe Sterling, the daughter of a real estate mogul. When I first started working here, I saw her chasing Ethan, but she hadn’t even managed to touch his hand. My eyes lit up. I opened the office door right in front of her. Sure enough, she charged in her heels, shoved me aside, and cried: “Ethan! I came to see you…” At his desk, Ethan looked up slightly: “You…” Before he could finish, I bowed deeply: “Mr. Vance, I saw nothing!” With that, I closed the door, pretending to leave them alone, and happily went back to my desk to eat a pumpkin pie. Unexpectedly, a little while later, Miss Sterling ran out crying, her makeup ruined. She pulled me into the hallway: “Tell me, has he been seeing another woman lately?” I thought for a few seconds and spoke up for my boss: “Lately, besides Mr. Vance’s mother, no one else has visited.” She stomped her foot: “I don’t believe it! You’re his employee, of course you’re covering for him!” Her eyes darted around, and she suddenly looked at me meaningfully: “Why did you open his office door earlier?” My heart dropped. Crap, does she suspect me? I coughed twice: “Even though she hasn’t been to the office, he might be keeping her somewhere else.” Miss Sterling slapped her thigh: “Whoever is trying to steal my man, I’ll tear her apart!” Before leaving, she pointedly warned me: “And you better watch it! Why are you wearing makeup to work? You look ugly.” After she left, a coworker came over looking annoyed: “Ignore her. Didn’t you see how Mr. Vance ignored her? She thinks she’s so special.” 04 Maybe because I brought up Ethan Vance too much lately, Sweetie misunderstood. He suddenly asked: “Do you like that kind of man?” I didn’t want him to overthink: “Absolutely not! I hate that kind of man the most!” He went quiet. His hot-and-cold attitude made me panic. Did I offend him? Did I say something wrong? No… Over the weekend, I went out for dinner with my best friend. She brought her new boyfriend. They were so lovey-dovey and sweet, basically feeding each other mouth-to-mouth. I sat across from them, feeling like a giant third wheel. That night, lying in bed, I tossed and turned, opening our chat window again and again. Accidentally, I hit the video call button. My heart pounded, I was so nervous, but I hesitated and didn’t hang up. After a while, the video switched to a voice call. I heard the faint sound of running water. My heart was in my throat. I tentatively asked, “Hello?” No one spoke. Then a message popped up: “I’m in the shower.” Why wasn’t he talking? I felt a wave of disappointment. Was my best friend right? Is he a 40-year-old creepy dude? Or maybe… is there something wrong with him? 05 Because of the Sweetie situation, I was distracted all day. I accidentally walked into the men’s restroom at work. Several guys stared at me in horror. I backed out, face burning red, before I could even process what I saw. That afternoon, many coworkers started a group chat to discuss the “female pervert peeping in the men’s room.” I tried to explain, but it was useless. The group admin was a guy named Mark, who had been pursuing me recently. He seized the opportunity to spread rumors: “Oh, it’s Audrey Miller. That makes sense. She did this to me before. Don’t be fooled by her looks; she has a lot of weird fetishes. She’s super creepy. Probably had a bad upbringing. I heard she did something similar in college and got disciplined.” In the parking garage, I found Mark and told him to stop spreading rumors. His eyes lingered on my chest: “Are you really playing dumb, or are you just acting?” He reached out to grab me. Realizing something was wrong, I kicked him hard. I spun around and crashed into a stranger’s chest. Ethan grabbed my wrist, his eyes cold as ice. Mark’s fiery glare instantly turned fearful: “M-Mr. Vance…” Ethan sneered: “Too much free time?” Mark shifted his gaze: “She’s a pervert. I was teaching her a lesson.” Ethan’s eyes grew even colder: “Since you love teaching lessons so much, it seems you’d be better suited for a trip to the police station.” The next day, Mark was nowhere to be seen at the company. Word was he resigned. Those rumors also died down. I repented for ever cursing my boss. Waaaah, he’s such a good guy. 06 My best friend heard about what happened at work and bought some gifts, telling me to give them to Ethan as a thank you. I thought about it for a long time and messaged Sweetie to ask his opinion. He replied: “You probably should.” Should I? Doesn’t he worry about another man stealing me away? Despite feeling a bit frustrated, I carried the gifts to Ethan’s apartment. He lived in a luxury high-rise in the city center, and it took a lot of effort just to get past security. Unexpectedly, as soon as I stepped out of the elevator, a person wearing a black hat and mask followed me out. It felt like this guy had been tailing me the whole way… I was instantly terrified. I ran forward and frantically knocked on Ethan’s door. He opened it wearing a gray casual hoodie, his handsome face looking much softer. Before he could speak, I lunged forward and threw myself into his arms: “Hubby! I missed you so much~” I was so tense I didn’t even notice how stiff the person I was hugging had become. His eyes flickered, and he raised an eyebrow: “What did you call me?” But my attention was entirely on the suspicious figure behind me. Through the reflection in the window, I saw the person crouching around the corner, peeking this way. It wasn’t until Ethan’s searing body heat radiated from his chest that I suddenly snapped back to reality. Once the door was safely closed, I was ready to grovel and explain. But then I saw two pairs of bright eyes staring right at me in the living room. A white-haired elderly woman and a girl around 20 years old. The shock made me drop the bags I was holding. The girl walked over with a teasing smile: “Brother, why didn’t you tell me you had a girlfriend?” She gave me a playful grin: “You’re so pretty! I’m Mia Vance, Ethan’s sister.” I stiffly turned my head. Ethan was wearing a look that clearly said, “I’m enjoying this.” As if saying: “You made this mess, you fix it.” He pulled a pair of slippers from the closet, eyes smiling: “You sure you got the right door?” Under these circumstances, I didn’t dare change my shoes… I stood awkwardly by the door: “You guys misunderstood, I’m here to…” Before I could finish, Mia cut me off: “She’s struggling, and you’re not even considerate enough to help her change her shoes?” Ethan leaned against the wall: “Want me to help you change?” I was dumbfounded: “Huh?” “I’m asking you,” he chuckled softly, his thin lips forming the words, “Honey…” My face turned beet red: “No, no, I just came to drop this off and I’m leaving.” Mia was helping me pick up the dropped bags and suddenly froze. She shoved an item into her pocket, then shyly shoved it into Ethan’s chest: “Ahem, ahem. Looks like I’ll be holding a nephew soon.” At the same time, my phone buzzed with a few new messages. It was from my best friend: “Audrey! You haven’t given the gifts away yet, right?! Check if there’s a box in there with men’s underwear. It should be at the bottom, please look for it! …” Ethan also saw the item in the bag. He looked at me teasingly: “You bought this, hmm?” “…” Humiliating. I wanted to disappear. 07 Sitting in the living room was Ethan’s grandmother. She was getting older, and her memory was a bit fuzzy. She held my hand, stared at me for a long time, and suddenly asked: “Where’s my great-granddaughter? Didn’t bring her?” I was completely lost. I just came to drop off a gift, how do I suddenly have a kid? His grandmother was clearly confused, mistaking me for someone else. With no other choice, I had to play along and chat with them for half an hour. But the grandmother was too talkative. She even spilled the tea about how Ethan wore dresses when he was little. I wanted to laugh but didn’t dare, suppressing it until I started coughing. Finally, Ethan finished his work and walked over with a dark expression: “Grandma, you should rest.” He helped her towards the bedroom, shooting me a warning glance. I pointed to my lips, promising not to tell a soul. As soon as I turned away, I pulled out my phone to chat with Sweetie: “Help, our boss is a 30-year-old grown man, but he used to wear dresses when he was little! Who knew there was a girly heart hiding beneath that tough exterior… Hahahahaha, I’m dying… …” I added one last reminder: “Don’t tell anyone.” After hitting send, I felt great. I was about to leave when Mia said security was investigating a suspicious person in the complex and told me to wait two hours before leaving. Thinking of the man who followed me, a chill ran down my spine. So I followed her to a guest room to rest. The room was large and tidy, simple but exuding a quiet luxury. So this is how comfortable the boss’s guest room is… I envy the rich. Two minutes later, standing in the bathroom, I realized something was wrong. Men’s face wash, a razor… Does another man live here besides Ethan? Turns out, no. Because he pushed the door open and walked in. His eyes widened slightly in surprise, then his teasing gaze fell on the razor in my hand: “You like this one?” That tone made me suspect that if I said yes, my year-end bonus would be a box of razors. I quickly explained: “Wrong room! Sorry, Mr. Vance, I’m leaving right now!” I was panicked and in a hurry, and my foot slipped at the worst possible moment. I was about to do a spectacular faceplant, but Ethan seemed to take two steps forward, And I ended up clinging onto him. My face hit his chest, my hand grabbed his belt, And my lipstick left a perfect print right on his crisp white shirt. Looking at the placement, my face flushed with heat: “I-I didn’t mean to…” He held my shoulders, his palms burning hot. “I know,” his voice was low and magnetic, yet somewhat strained, “but could you please let go of my belt first…” I jumped up, covered my face, and ran out, Smacking into the doorframe on my way. Behind me, Ethan’s voice sounded helpless: “Slow down…” 08 For the next few days, I kept seeing a familiar Rolls-Royce parked outside the breakfast diner near my apartment. It stood out like a sore thumb among the scooters; I couldn’t ignore it if I tried. I had to bite the bullet, go up to say hi, And then “coincidentally” ride to work together. Later, I intentionally woke up twenty minutes early and switched diners, but still couldn’t escape it. I started to suspect this car was operating just for me. But his place and mine aren’t even in the same direction… I had a bold thought… “What are you thinking about?” Ethan’s clear voice came from beside me. “You,” I blurted out. Realizing what I just said, I stuttered: “No, Mr. Vance, do you need help with something?” Because there was a third person in the car, I was too embarrassed to be direct. Ethan seemed to notice my discomfort and ordered the driver to pull over: “You step out for a minute.” Me: “Okay.” I grabbed my bag, ready to get out. He pulled me back, chuckling in exasperation: “I told him to get out. Why are you running?” Now, it was just the two of us in the car. The atmosphere grew strangely intimate. I hugged my bag and huddled in the corner: “Mr. Vance, riding in your car so often isn’t good for your reputation.” He turned to look at me, leaning in closer: “You giving me all that underwear was good for my reputation?” He added: “The size was wrong, too.” Good lord, could we not bring that up? Did he misunderstand because I gave him the wrong gift? My heart pounded as I explained: “Actually, I didn’t buy that for you… Mr. Vance, I know you’re a good person, but I already have someone I like.” I wanted to describe my online crush, Sweetie, but that sounded too fake. So I pulled out a photo of me and my cousin and lied: “I’m afraid he’ll misunderstand, so it’s not appropriate for me to get too close to other guys.” Silence filled the car for a moment. I didn’t dare look at him. I opened the door and ran. I don’t know why, but after clearing things up, I felt a fleeting sense of disappointment. I messaged Sweetie: “Can we meet?” He said: “Yes.” So we agreed to meet at a coffee shop downtown in a week. 09 Chloe Sterling heard some gossip from somewhere and started keeping an even closer eye on me: “Why did you get out of his car? Why did he look at you? You smell a bit like him…” It was too annoying, so I just went to the bathroom. Strangely, she didn’t follow me. Later, when I returned, my phone on the desk seemed to have been moved. Since it wasn’t stolen, I didn’t care much. Only two days left until I meet Sweetie. I was feeling nervous. Is he older or younger than me? I don’t care if he’s average-looking, as long as he’s a decent guy. Thursday afternoon, company meeting. A new assistant forgot to distribute some files, so I hurried over to deliver them. Ethan sat immaculately at the head of the table. Under the glow of the projector and everyone’s gaze, he looked calm and unshakeable. As I walked in, our eyes met for a split second before I quickly looked away. Listening to his tone during the meeting, I felt a strange sense of familiarity. 10 Friday night, having dinner with my best friend. I mentioned meeting Sweetie. She warned me to be careful; people online wear masks, and you never know what they’re like in reality. The more I thought about it, the more nervous I got. I excused myself to the restroom. Turning a corner, I accidentally bumped into a guy in his forties. He looked at me, sweating slightly: “Careful, little lady.” I hastily apologized while helping him pick up his dropped phone. But I accidentally saw his WhatsApp screen. There was a contact right there—it was my name and my profile picture. Everyone I’ve added on WhatsApp, I know in real life. Except for Sweetie, who I’ve never met. I was completely dumbfounded. The guy rubbed his belly, his voice overly gentle: “Hey gorgeous, are you okay?” I have a problem. A huge problem. I felt like my heart was bleeding. This is impossible. Sweetie clearly told me he was 6’2″. I tried to keep my composure: “Um, you… you sure have a lot of friends on there.” He laughed loudly, a smile with a hidden meaning: “Just a bunch of twenty-something girls clinging to me. One today, another tomorrow. I can’t possibly keep up with all of them.” My smile froze. He said: “Don’t doubt it. As long as I flash a Rolex and casually toss a borrowed BMW key on the table, they all tell me how amazing I am… Look at this girl, username ‘Too Free’. Hasn’t even met me yet, and she’s already completely obsessed with me.” I clenched my fists. His phone rang, and he answered it: “Didn’t I tell you I didn’t want this kid? How did I trick you? You were the one begging to be with me. Jumping off a building? Suit yourself! …” 11 In my mind, Sweetie was a rather aloof person. At least, that’s how he was when we chatted. He was actually very busy, often replying after work, but he always explained every question clearly. Thinking about it now, was this the so-called “playing hard to get”? Thinking about that creepy guy… Reality really hit me over the head with a baseball bat… I hugged my best friend and sobbed, while sending Sweetie five hundred bucks: “Thank you for helping me before. I have a boyfriend now, and I’m afraid he’ll misunderstand. I’m deleting you, sorry.” The screen showed: Typing… I remembered the creepy guy’s greasy, narcissistic look. I didn’t even want to read his message. I just blocked him. 12 Then, I dragged my best friend to a bar downstairs. When I was feeling dizzy from the alcohol, I vaguely saw a tall, upright man walking through the entrance. Even though I was in pain, I could recognize that it was my boss and provider, Ethan Vance… With teary eyes, I tried to explain: “M-Mr. Vance, I asked for time off…” His breathing was heavy, as if suppressing his emotions: “Why are you drinking?” My best friend was worried and wouldn’t let him near me, but after they walked aside and talked for a bit, she opened the door and left. Finally, it was just the two of us in the small booth. With a raspy voice, I spouted nonsense: “I’m happy! Let’s toast!” He frowned, snatching my drink away. The splashing liquid dampened his black shirt. He rolled up his sleeves and sat next to me, looking somewhat defeated: “I’m very sad.” I paused: “What’s wrong?” He laughed self-deprecatingly and said: “I got dumped.” Dumped? I got dumped too… I poured him a full glass: “Come on, drink!” My hand slipped, and the liquor spilled all over my neck. He glanced at it: “How do you expect me to drink that?” He took a tissue and wiped the liquor off me. A perfectly flawless face was swaying right in front of my eyes. Being so close, I noticed his eyelashes were very long, and his eyes were actually brown. Very pretty. I suddenly grabbed his sleeve: “Hey, why don’t we just get together?” Ethan’s aura darkened. He shook off my hand: “Do you know what you’re saying?” I lost control: “My online crush turned out to be a scumbag. Isn’t that infuriating?” His eyes deepened, looking like he wanted to say something. When I’m drunk, I get very talkative. Through my tears, I cursed Sweetie out, And told him all about that creepy guy. Half an hour later, Ethan’s sleeve was soaked With my tears. He propped my forehead up with one finger. His eyes were confused, yet carrying a trace of imperceptible relief: “I have no idea how you misunderstood all that. But the person chatting with you all these days… was me.” I waved my hand: “Don’t comfort me. I’ve already accepted reality.” He laughed so hard his body shook. He repeated all the complaints I had made about him, Then opened the account I had just blocked right in front of me: “See clearly now?” I nodded dumbly, Thinking this dream felt a bit too real. My online crush transformed from a 40-year-old creep into my handsome boss. I leaned in and kissed his lips. Soft, with a sweet taste of alcohol. Definitely dreaming. Otherwise, why wasn’t he moving?

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “439062”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

I committed suicide. On Christmas Eve, a time meant for family reunions. But I never expected that my ex-husband, who had never cared about me while I was alive, would go completely insane after my death, ruthlessly seeking revenge against everyone who had ever mistreated me. He even tried to take his own life to join me. Yet, when I was alive, he clearly didn’t love me at all. 01 Right now, in my newly minted ghost form, I stood next to my own corpse. The Reaper stood in front of me, flipping through a thick, leather-bound Ledger of Souls. “What is your name?” “Audrey,” I replied, eager for him to take my soul away so I could be reincarnated into a decent family for my next life. But the Reaper’s gaze lingered on the ledger for a long time. Finally, he looked up at me. “Your time isn’t up yet, and you have a baby in your belly. Why did you kill yourself?” I glanced down at my pale, lifeless body soaking in the bathtub. “I didn’t want to live anymore, so I ended it.” The Reaper looked so angry his jaw actually twitched. He tapped the ledger in his hand. “Do you realize that committing suicide before your time is up is like calling 911 for a fake emergency? It’s highly unethical! Furthermore, the child inside you was meant to have a brand-new life, and now, because of you, they will never be born!” God as my witness, when I took my own life, I had absolutely no idea I was pregnant. But hearing his lecture, I frowned. “Why are there so many rules for dying?” The Reaper softened his tone. “Life still has many beautiful things waiting for you to experience. Be a good girl, listen to me, and get back into your body.” I thought of my bloodsucking, cruel parents. I thought of my entitled sister and my spoiled brother. And I thought of my ex-husband’s perpetually cold, indifferent face. My resolve was absolute. “There is absolutely nothing beautiful in my life. Just drag me away. I’d rather be a dog or a cat in my next life.” No matter how the Reaper tried to persuade me, I refused to return to my body. Finally, he sighed. “Processing reincarnation paperwork for someone whose time isn’t up is incredibly difficult. How about this: I’ll give you thirty days. You can stay in the human world as a ghost. If, by the end of the month, you still haven’t found a single reason to live, I’ll process your paperwork.” I thought about it and agreed. It wasn’t every day you got to be a ghost. Roaming the earth with zero responsibilities sounded pretty good. 02 On my first day as a ghost, I sat on the windowsill and watched the city lights glow through the night. The phone I had left by the bathtub was filled with mass-sent holiday texts. Out of the hundreds of contacts in my phone, not a single person genuinely reached out to me on Christmas Eve. Just as the holiday specials on TV were coming to an end, my phone finally buzzed. I floated over to look. It was my awful ex-husband. He sent a photo. It was a cardboard box stuffed with a few of my old clothes and half-used makeup products. The text read: “Your trash. You have one day to get it out of here. Don’t dirty my house.” My ex-husband was Grayson Lockwood. True to his reputation, he was a cold, ruthless, and calculating CEO. He inherited the family business at a young age, and within a few short years, he multiplied their revenue exponentially. The business world hailed him as a prodigy. His looks were even more undeniable. When he first took over the company, skeptics mocked him, saying he should just use his face to make a living in Hollywood. But even perfect people have flaws. His flaw was that he didn’t love me. He had a high school sweetheart, his “white moonlight,” while I was merely a childhood promise made by his mother. My family used to be wealthy, but unfortunately, we went bankrupt during my senior year of high school. I had an entitled older sister, a spoiled younger brother, and parents who heavily favored their son. When we went bankrupt, my sister, who was studying abroad in Paris, felt no impact whatsoever. Meanwhile, my parents constantly lectured me: “Business is bad right now, Audrey. You need to be understanding.” I busted my back earning scholarships and working part-time jobs while juggling my studies, terrified of being a burden. Yet, in the blink of an eye, my parents sent my useless younger brother to an expensive prep school overseas, spending fifty thousand dollars a year without batting an eye. While I was working at a local fast-food joint making fifteen bucks an hour, my brother was partying on yachts. While I was sweating in a heavy mascot costume passing out flyers in the summer heat, my sister was skiing in the Swiss Alps. It seemed that the only person affected by our family’s bankruptcy was me. During my senior year of college, my parents clung to Grayson as their lifeline. When Grayson’s mother was pregnant with him, she was in a severe car accident. My parents found her and rushed her to the hospital, saving both her and the unborn Grayson. Seeing that my mother was also pregnant at the time, and noting my parents’ good looks, she promised an arranged marriage between their future children. We all thought it was just a joke, but during my senior year, Grayson’s mother became terminally ill. On her deathbed, she remembered the promise she made in her youth. So, she came looking for our family. 03 For my bankrupt family, this was like winning the lottery. Logically, the promise was meant for my older sister. But at the time, my sister was happily dating a rich guy in Paris. Grayson had just taken over his company, and rumors said he was just a pretty face with no real skill. My sister adamantly refused to marry him. And so, I, the designated scapegoat, was shoved onto the altar. I got my marriage certificate before I even got my college diploma. When I applied for graduation, the marriage certificate actually counted as two extracurricular credits. I smiled bitterly. I guess that was a silver lining. Grayson didn’t like me. I knew that from the very beginning. The day we got our marriage license, Grayson’s mother held my hand as we waited outside City Hall for half an hour. When he finally arrived, he merely glanced at me, then turned to his mother. “Something came up at work. I’m late.” After that, he didn’t look at me once. So, I always knew. He didn’t love me. 04 I sat on the balcony, letting the cold winter wind blow through me, watching the warm lights of the city. The deep sense of loss that followed my suicide slowly washed over me. I thought about playing a depressing Spotify playlist to set the mood, but unfortunately, I couldn’t physically touch my phone anymore. Just as I was contemplating where to float off to next, the phone in my bathroom started ringing incessantly. I drifted over. It was Grayson. We had just finalized our divorce papers the day before yesterday. He had told me there were still some asset distributions to sort out, so I shouldn’t block his number yet. I knew his personality. He was decisive and ruthless. I figured he just wanted to sever all ties as quickly as possible so we’d never have to speak again. But why was he calling me so many times right now? I didn’t understand. He called my number, then called me on FaceTime, over and over again. The ringing was getting on my nerves. I debated whether I could somehow knock the phone into the bathtub. But as a newly minted ghost, I was too weak to interact with physical objects. So I just stared as the phone rang endlessly. Over half an hour later, the phone finally fell silent. 05 The texts from my parents arrived early the next morning. My mom wrote: “It’s not that we’re being cruel by not letting you come home for the holidays. If you just go beg Grayson to remarry you, we’ll let you come home to celebrate.” When I first brought up divorcing Grayson, my parents were the loudest opponents. Because as long as I was married to him—even if he didn’t love me—he would offer our family financial support just for the sake of the marriage certificate. Lockwood Enterprises was a massive empire. With a wave of his hand, he could resurrect our family’s failing business. If I divorced him, we would lose our golden goose. During our mandatory separation period before the divorce finalized, my parents stormed into my apartment countless times to talk me out of it. When I refused to budge, my dad slapped me across the face, calling me an ungrateful brat, screaming that a divorced woman would never be able to marry again. But the day before yesterday, I stubbornly went to City Hall with Grayson and finalized the divorce. Just like when we got married five years ago, Grayson made me wait alone at City Hall for hours before finally showing up. He signed the papers without a word, got back into his obscenely expensive sports car, and sped off without a trace of emotion. The tires hit a puddle, splashing dirty water all over me. I pressed my lips together, forcing back the tears threatening to spill. I thought, since it was almost Christmas, I’d buy some groceries and gifts and go home after getting the divorce certificate. But I was locked out. My parents kicked me out. The look my mother gave me was pure vitriol. “You have the nerve to come back? You know our business is only surviving because of the Lockwoods. You divorcing him—are you trying to kill me?!” I looked down at the groceries scattered across the porch. Years of accumulated grief and exhaustion crashed over me. With tears streaming down my face, I looked at my biological parents. “What about me? Have I not done enough?” I ignored their curses, turned around, and walked away. At that exact moment, I made the decision to end my life. I suddenly wanted to know: if they found out I was dead, would they regret everything they had done to me? 06 Christmas Day. Every household was bursting with joy. My apartment was also quite “festive.” I sat on the bathroom counter, staring at myself soaking in the bathtub. The entire bathroom was tinted a stark, deep red. Aside from being a bit horrifying, the color was undeniably festive. Around 8 AM, the neighborhood started waking up. The neighbor next door was baking cookies; I could hear the clattering of baking sheets. The family downstairs seemed to be roasting a Christmas ham. The savory smell wafted up through the vents. I rubbed my belly, suddenly remembering that I hadn’t eaten a single thing for two whole days before I died. I had chugged a bottle of red wine and just lay down in the tub. Smelling the food now, I regretted not having a full meal before killing myself. Dying on Christmas was bad enough, but becoming a starving ghost was just insulting. As I debated whether to float next door to watch them bake or go downstairs to check on the ham, there was a knock at my front door. Who would visit me today? I mentally scanned my social circle. After college, I became a full-time housewife. I lost touch with all my old friends, and I never fit in with the wealthy socialite wives. I practically had no friends at all. Was it an Amazon delivery? While racking my brain trying to remember if I had any pending orders, I floated to the door. I looked through the peephole, and when I saw who was outside, I froze. Why was Grayson Lockwood standing at my door? 07 Through the peephole, I saw Grayson’s handsome face twisted with intense impatience. He pounded on the door aggressively, then repeatedly jammed his finger into the doorbell. “Audrey, don’t think throwing a tantrum is going to get my attention. That trick won’t work on me.” Grayson’s voice carried clearly through the heavy door. I was terrified of his negative moods. No matter how happy I felt moments prior, the second he appeared and frowned, I felt like the sky was falling. Before I married him, my parents had drilled it into my head: Never make Grayson mad. Our family’s survival depended entirely on whether Grayson was willing to throw us a lifeline for the sake of our marriage. The night before the wedding, my mother packed my bags and warned me: “Once you move in, you need to learn how to please Grayson and his family. Your sister and brother still need money for school. You have to think about them.” I stared down at my bridal shoes, pressed my lips together, and stayed silent. If it weren’t for the wedding, I would have been at work that day, earning my eighty-dollar shift pay. Because of that conditioning, throughout our marriage, no matter what happened, if I sensed Grayson was upset, I would immediately apologize. Eventually, I couldn’t even tell who was right or wrong anymore. Brainwashed by my parents, I believed that if Grayson was angry, it meant I was at fault. So even now, as a ghost, seeing Grayson standing outside my door looking so pissed off, my first instinct was that I had done something wrong and needed to apologize to him. But the current me couldn’t respond to his anger anymore. Failing to get a response, Grayson grew even more furious. He called me several more times. My phone, sitting in the bathroom, rang out with my usual ringtone. This apartment was a pre-wedding gift from Grayson’s mother. She was a good person. She told me: “Even though I’m the one asking you to marry my son, I worry you might suffer in this marriage. I want to give you a safe haven.” It was a modest two-bedroom apartment. The phone was in the master bathroom, but I could clearly hear it ringing from the front door. Grayson heard it too. He slammed his palm against the door. “Fine, Audrey. Keep hiding. I hope you hide for the rest of your life. Don’t ever let me see your face again. I left your things at the door. Don’t ever come back to my house looking for them.” He hung up, kicked something on the ground, and stormed off. I hid behind the door, not daring to breathe. People say humans are afraid of ghosts, but here I was, a literal ghost, terrified of the man standing outside. I really was pathetic. 08 I peeked out the window, watching Grayson’s car drive away, before I dared to float out the door. He had brought over the few clothes and cosmetics I had forgotten to pack when I moved out. There wasn’t much; it all fit into one cardboard box. Grayson hadn’t even bothered to fold them. He just shoved everything haphazardly into the box. I crouched down and looked at it. Having my “trash” dumped at my front door for all the neighbors to see felt a little humiliating. I tried to reach out and lift the box, but my hands phased right through the cardboard. Grayson, you absolute bastard! I made a vow right then and there: I was going to stand by his bed tonight and haunt the living daylights out of him. 09 Twenty-four hours after my death, I stood by Grayson’s bed. I had bumped into the ghost of a woman who had jumped off a building in my complex. She told me that, as a brand-new ghost, I didn’t have the power to knock over water glasses or make noises to scare people like the older ghosts did. My only option was to wait until he fell asleep, when his life force was weakest, and haunt his dreams. At 1:00 AM, I hovered over his bed, but it was empty. Grayson was still working in his home office. I let out a yawn, quietly reflecting: If you want to wear the crown, you have to bear the weight. Being a CEO clearly wasn’t a job just anyone could handle. I stretched and floated into the home office. To my surprise, he wasn’t working. He was sitting at his desk, deep in thought. Grayson’s personality was cold and detached, and his house’s color scheme reflected that—stark blacks, whites, and grays. The office was no exception. He only had a small desk lamp turned on. Half of his sculpted face was hidden in the shadows, the other half illuminated by the cold light, making him look even more unreadable. His eyes were lowered. The computer screen was bright. From his expression, he exuded a heavy, palpable melancholy. I floated behind him and accidentally glanced at his screen. He wasn’t working at all. It was his iMessage chat with Serena. Serena had texted: “I’m flying back to the States on the 8th.” Grayson replied briefly: “What time is your flight? I’ll come pick you up.” Serena gave him her flight number and arrival time. Grayson said: “Okay.” Grayson had always been like this. Whatever Serena asked of him, he would do everything in his power to fulfill it. I stood behind him, reading this brief exchange. The suffocating feeling of my heart being squeezed tight was still there, though it was significantly less painful than the very first time I learned of Serena’s existence. 10 Serena was Grayson’s first love, the “white moonlight” he tragically missed out on. I found this out six months into our marriage. During the second semester of my senior year, I married Grayson. Even though I had latched onto the Lockwood empire, the blatant favoritism I suffered growing up taught me that true security only comes from building your own path. So, I declined his mother’s offer to stay home as a full-time socialite wife and instead took an internship at a corporate firm. The internship was brutal. I had a brown-nosing manager, and one of the other interns in my group was a wealthy heir. I ended up doing the work of two people, while the rich kid took the majority of the credit. Grayson was incredible—brilliant and devastatingly handsome. I had never dated anyone before. Being married to him and sharing a bed with him, it was inevitable that I would fall for him. Because of that, the exhaustion and injustice of my internship would instantly vanish the moment I saw his face. Back then, I thought: I have such an amazing husband, what do I have to be sad about? One night, I worked late and came home exhausted. Grayson was already in the shower. He traveled for business constantly and rarely came home. Even when he did, he was polite but distant. Still, his being home made me happy. I sat nervously on the edge of the bed, waiting for him to finish showering. While I waited, his phone, tossed carelessly on the duvet, started ringing. The shower was still running. I walked to the bathroom door and called out to tell him his phone was ringing, but he didn’t answer. I picked it up and saw it was an international number. Grayson’s business was global, and he had introduced me to several of his foreign partners at galas. I assumed it was a business associate. As his legal wife, I felt I had the right to answer the phone for him. But when I answered, a young woman’s drunk, coquettish voice came through the speaker. I froze, confused, and asked, “Excuse me, who is this?” The girl on the other end reacted even more strongly than I did: “Who are you? Why do you have Grayson’s phone?” She called him Grayson. In the six months we had been married, I didn’t even dare to call him by his first name during our most intimate moments, yet she said it so naturally. I composed myself and replied, “Hello, I am Grayson’s wife. May I ask what this is regarding?” The girl sounded like she had just heard something impossible. Just as I was about to speak again, the shower turned off. Grayson stormed out wearing only a towel and snatched the phone from my hand. I will never forget the ice in his eyes. He looked at me like I was a complete stranger. “Why did you touch my phone?” 11 A woman’s intuition told me immediately that the girl’s relationship with him was far from ordinary. That night, Grayson didn’t sleep at home. He didn’t offer a single word of explanation. He just took the call, grabbed his keys, and drove off. Later, I learned from Grayson’s mother that the girl’s name was Serena. She was his childhood sweetheart, his untouchable white moonlight. Serena was a perfect, wealthy heiress, beautiful and brilliant. She was the one unforgettable ray of light in Grayson’s dark, struggling teenage years. But because Grayson was struggling to prove himself at the time, they tragically missed their chance. After Serena went abroad for college, Grayson slowly learned the ropes of the business world from his father, eventually becoming the prodigy he was today. Serena had cycled through several boyfriends, but Grayson had always remained single. People in their social circle whispered that even if Grayson was married, if Serena made one phone call, he would abandon his bride at the altar to run to her. Unfortunately, I was the sacrificial bride in their epic, romantic love story—the collateral damage used to prove the depth of the male lead’s devotion. 12 Because I answered Serena’s phone call, Grayson was furious. His punishment for me was to personally head overseas to expand a new market. For nearly an entire year, he never came back to see me. Grayson was a golden god among men. Even though it was an arranged marriage, I still inevitably fell deeply in love with him. But that year of absolute silence made me realize there was an uncrossable chasm between us. The chasm was built on family background, life experience, and worldview… but the biggest factor of all was Serena. Knowing full well he was intentionally distancing himself from me because of her, my bloodsucking parents still used our family’s failing business as an excuse to relentlessly pressure me into asking him for money. My mother said, “I know you’re Mrs. Lockwood now. If you just have a baby, your position will be secure. But that’s still his family. You only have true leverage if your own family is strong. If you guys ever fight, you need a place to come back to.” During our time apart, I sent Grayson countless texts—sharing trivial details of my day, asking about his well-being. If he was in a good mood, he might reply with a brief, one-sentence answer. But mostly, my messages vanished into the void. Forced by my parents’ demands, I finally had to swallow my pride and call him. Terrified of interrupting his sleep, I calculated the time difference perfectly to call during his lunch break, which meant it was the middle of the night for me. But when I carefully made my request, Grayson merely scoffed on the other end of the line. His tone was dripping with mockery: “Audrey, are you willing to stay married to anyone, as long as they pay you?” His words plunged me into a freezing abyss. 13 I watched Grayson sitting in his office, brooding over Serena’s text messages. I felt a complicated mix of emotions, but my resolve to haunt him only grew stronger. I floated up to his ear, puffed out my cheeks, and blew a gust of cold air right at him. I saw a ghost do this to a poor scholar in a classic horror movie once. Turns out, the method was highly effective. The usually stoic Grayson whipped his head around, coming face-to-face with me blowing air at him. My heart skipped a beat, and I felt a sudden, inexplicable guilt. Grayson scanned the room. Finding nothing out of the ordinary, he reached out and closed the chat window on his laptop. He leaned back heavily in his chair, pinched the bridge of his nose, and let out a long, exhausted sigh. I didn’t get it. His white moonlight was coming back, why was he acting so depressed? Did he think that after five years of marriage with me, he was somehow “tainted” and unworthy of Serena? The more I thought about it, the angrier I got. I clenched my fist and slammed it against the bookshelf behind him. It was just an instinctual reaction born of anger, but I didn’t expect it to actually knock a book off the shelf. It was a thick, heavy hardcover. The loud thud it made when it hit the floor startled both of us. I was shocked because: I could actually touch physical objects?! Grayson was shocked because: Why did a book just fall off the shelf? Is this place haunted? We both looked down at the floor simultaneously. Photographs that had been tucked inside the book scattered across the rug. I looked closely and realized they were photos of me, mixed with a couple of awkward pictures of Grayson and me together. I remembered then—before his mother died, she forced us to take a trip to the beach. Under her strict supervision, Grayson reluctantly posed for a few pictures with me. His mother had the photos printed and gave us each a set. Her intention was for Grayson to frame them and put them on his desk at work. I had framed my set and placed them in the most prominent spot in my apartment. But I never imagined Grayson would hide his set this deeply. “You bastard. Does looking at these pictures disgust you that much?” As Grayson bent down to pick up the photos, I couldn’t hold back. I swiped my hand again. This time, I knocked his water glass off the desk, sending it shattering onto the floor. Leaving a bewildered Grayson behind, I floated out the window and headed back to my own apartment. Hmph. If you think my photos are bad luck, I’ll show you something truly horrific. 14 I had insomnia. Ghosts don’t die from pulling all-nighters, so I just laid on the sofa, letting the negative emotions wash over me. Turns out, even becoming a ghost doesn’t save you from late-night existential dread. Thirty-five hours after my death, my older sister texted me. I was so bored, floating around the apartment trying to figure out what to do, when my phone in the bathroom chimed. I darted over, wondering who was looking for me. But as soon as I entered the bathroom, my own “corpse” scared the living daylights out of me. Soaking bloodless in a tub of crimson water—even I found it incredibly eerie and terrifying. “Eww.” I suddenly regretted choosing this method. On the phone screen was a text from my sister. She wrote: “Grayson came by the house early this morning with Christmas gifts. He asked if you had come home. Audrey, I’m your sister, I wouldn’t steer you wrong. Remarrying Grayson is the best thing for you and for our family. Stop being so stubborn.” Five minutes later, she sent another: “Do you know who Grayson is? The fact that he brought gifts to check on us after the divorce shows he still cares. Audrey, when you’re given an out, take it immediately.” My sister was three years older than me. When we were kids, I completely idolized her. I thought she was amazing, smart, and whenever there was a school play or talent show, she was always the shining star. When I was little, I just thought she was exceptional. As I got older, I started to realize the truth: why did my parents enroll her in expensive piano and dance classes, while I was only allowed to take the cheapest art club after school? And when the family business started going under, the first thing they cut was my cheap art club. My parents’ blatant favoritism chipped away at my idolization of her. And my sister seemed to revel in their favoritism, treating me like her personal servant as a matter of right. In high school, she made me deliver a love letter to the school’s bad boy. I got cornered in an alley by a group of mean girls who liked him. She happened to walk past, glanced at me getting pushed around, and just kept walking. When I came home bruised and scraped, she told me to lie to our parents and ordered me not to tell them she had written the letter. We ended up at the same university, but by the time I was a freshman, she was already studying abroad in Paris. She was an outstanding alumna, invited back to speak at the university’s anniversary gala. Across the crowded auditorium, she made eye contact with me but pretended not to know me. When I went home, she looked at me with disgust and said, “Audrey, can you please try to dress better? If people find out my sister looks this pathetic, I’ll die of embarrassment.” I smiled bitterly on the inside. Why did I look so pathetic? Didn’t she know exactly why? My suicide… she definitely played a part in it.

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Six months ago, my mother knelt on the floor, begging me to donate a kidney to my stepsister. Six months later, the night before my wedding, she knelt again, begging me to give up my fiancé to the stepdaughter she cherished so much. My own biological brother slapped me across the face: “Aubrey, how can you be so selfish? She’s dying, don’t you know that?” It’s okay. In two more months, I’ll be dead too, and everyone will finally be satisfied. 01 The night before I was supposed to walk down the aisle, my mother knelt on the floor and begged me, “Brie, postpone the wedding. Just let Liam go keep Chloe company for a bit, okay? Chloe has severe depression. When she found out you two were getting married, she got even sicker… Please, Mom is begging you.” I didn’t answer. Immediately after, my brother viciously slapped my face. He was fuming, the veins on his neck bulging from anger. I looked at them and smiled, “Is it true that whatever Chloe wants, you’ll make me sacrifice? My kidney, and now even my future husband, right?” Tears welled up in my mother’s eyes. “Chloe is still so young… she can’t live without Liam. Mom promises you, once Chloe gets better, I’ll have Liam come back and marry you, okay?” My brother gripped my wrist tightly. “Aubrey, stop being unreasonable. We’re a family. Isn’t it a good thing that Chloe stays alive?” Liam knocked and entered the room. His expression was unreadable, and he was still wearing the tuxedo he was supposed to get married in tomorrow. I could see the hesitation hidden in his eyes, but in the end, he just patted my head. “Aubrey, wait for me to come back.” The three of them rushed out in a panic. Leaving me completely alone, like a bewildered clown. The wedding dress I was supposed to wear tomorrow was still laid out on the bed. I stared at the medical report in my jewelry box, the one I had just picked up yesterday. I thought to myself, It’s fine. I’m dying soon anyway. Once I’m dead, everyone will be happy. Along with the kidney I donated six months ago, and my future husband, everything will belong to her. 02 My mother had already notified all our friends and relatives not to come tomorrow. The wedding was canceled. And Liam had notified his side of the family that the wedding was postponed. As the bride, I had absolutely no say in the matter. Just like six months ago, when Chloe needed dialysis and a kidney transplant due to uremia, the whole family was asked to get tested for a match. I had always been the most invisible presence in this house. But on the day the results came out, for the first time ever, my mother, my stepfather David, and my brother didn’t stay at the hospital with Chloe. Instead, they cooked a lavish dinner for me at home. I had never been treated like this in my entire life, and I felt somewhat overwhelmed by the attention. But not a single person remembered that I was allergic to shellfish. My mother spoke ingratiatingly, “Brie, the results are back… You’re a match with your sister. You can save her…” I stared at the seafood on the table and suddenly looked up at the three people in front of me. “Do you guys even remember that I’m allergic to shellfish?” My brother slammed his chopsticks onto my plate, his face full of suppressed anger. “Aubrey, our sister is dying, and you’re making a fuss about a seafood allergy right now?” My mother burst into tears. “Brie, you have to save her. Don’t forget, your stepfather David paid for your tuition and living expenses from childhood to college. You should know how to repay a debt.” It was pouring rain outside that day. My mother knelt down and begged me, my brother glared at me with hostility, and David looked at me with pleading eyes. I smiled. “Mom, if I donate this kidney, can you promise never to ask me to give up my things for her again?” My mother hesitated for a moment, but then nodded vigorously like a woodpecker. “Mom promises you.” I agreed. The three of them finally let out a sigh of relief. Looking at the heavy rain outside, my mother rushed to leave. “Chloe is terrified of thunder. She’ll be scared without me. I’m going to the hospital to stay with her.” Left alone in the house, staring at a table full of seafood, I suddenly remembered when my dad was still alive. My mom loved me, my brother adored me, and the whole family carefully protected me. When did everything start to change? It seems like it was twenty years ago, when my dad passed away from an illness, and my mom took me and my brother and remarried David. David was kind and amiable, and his daughter Chloe was lively, clever, and loved by everyone. In contrast, after my father’s death and the sudden drop in our quality of life, I became quiet and withdrawn. I wasn’t the kind of child adults found endearing. Sometimes, watching my brother, my mother, David, and Chloe, they looked like a real family of four. I felt like the odd one out. Whatever I liked, if Chloe liked it too, my mother would give it to her. Even my brother, as the days went by, grew to favor the stepsister who shared no blood with him. She would affectionately lean on his shoulder and eagerly hop onto the back of his bike after school, completely ignoring me, standing anxiously behind them. Back then, Chloe told me, “Aubrey, your mom and brother are mine now. You’re so unnecessary.” While I stood there in a daze, my eyes turning red, she ran up to my mother, hugged her, acted spoiled, and then turned around to stick her tongue out at me. 03 Remembering this, I lay down on my wedding dress on the bed. My body suddenly ached violently—a pain that drilled deep into my bones, making large tears stream uncontrollably from my eyes. I curled up on the wedding dress I had spent so long picking out, crying like an abandoned puppy. The next day, I packed my things and went back to the small apartment Liam and I shared. I texted Liam: “Liam, I think we need to talk.” Soon, a message from Liam came through. It was a selfie of him and Chloe. He was smiling, looking just like the young, carefree college boy he used to be. His brow was relaxed, his expression at ease. I knew Chloe had sent it. I called my mother. She answered, but just brushed me off in a hushed voice, “Liam is here with Chloe. She’s much more stable now. Okay, I have to go, I need to bring Chloe her soup.” I threw my phone aside and looked at the whimpering puppy nearby. He jumped onto my lap, sniffed me, and rested his head on my legs. I don’t know if dogs can smell sickness, but he seemed a bit downcast. I patted his head. “Buddy, Mom has to go take care of something. I’ll be back to get you.” I drove to the hospital. David and my mother were sitting nearby with loving expressions, peeling an apple for Chloe, while my brother and Liam were right beside her, helping her rank up in a video game. Fighting through the physical discomfort, I twisted the doorknob and walked in. Chloe’s face immediately darkened. She grabbed Liam’s arm, her eyes welling up with tears as she feigned being wronged. “Aubrey, can you let me have Liam? Just for a little bit?” Liam quickly stood up and gently brushed her hand away. “Brie, I was actually planning to head home soon.” David looked a bit embarrassed, but he still put on a placating smile. “Brie, Chloe hasn’t fully recovered yet. Once she’s better, the whole family will attend your wedding.” At this, Chloe seemed to suffer a severe shock. She clutched her head and started screaming violently. My brother hugged her, patiently coaxing, “Don’t be scared, Chloe, don’t be scared. Your brother is here. I’m right here.” My mother shoved me towards the door. “Why are you here? Don’t you know seeing you triggers her?” I stared straight into my mother’s eyes. “Mom, do you even remember that I’m your biological daughter?” A flicker of hesitation crossed her eyes, but then she coldly pushed me away. “Aubrey, stop being immature. Don’t forget, David paid for your college and your master’s degree. You need to be grateful.” Desperately, I grabbed my mother’s hand. “Mom, I can give all the money back to David. Can you just…” She slammed the door shut without another glance. I numbly finished my sentence to the closed door: “Can you just… not treat me like this?” Liam eventually pushed the door open and stepped out. Guilt hid in his eyes. “Brie, there’s nothing going on between Chloe and me. Her depression is really severe.” I looked at the man I had loved for seven years, ever since our freshman year of college, and finally let out a long sigh. “Liam, the summer of our first year of grad school, when Chloe insisted on coming to our city for an internship… when I checked the pet camera at home, I saw everything you two did every single day.” He turned pale, his fingers gripping my sleeve tightly. “Brie, we didn’t do anything.” I nodded. “You’re right, you didn’t do anything. You played video games together, binge-watched shows together, walked my dog together. Even when she badmouthed me, or when she secretly kissed you while you were asleep on the couch, you didn’t push her away.” “Brie, we’re getting married.” “Liam, we’re not getting married anymore. I wanted to play dumb, but it seems playing dumb can’t cover up certain facts. Chloe is indeed more likable than I am; everyone loves her. I can’t pretend anymore. Just like all those times she sent you cute selfies—even though you never replied, you fell for her, didn’t you?” As I turned to leave, Liam suddenly hugged me from behind. “Brie, I’ll go home with you. We’ve been together for seven years. Seven years…” Right then, Chloe’s face appeared in the window, and she violently slammed her head against the wall. A loud thud echoed. Her forehead started bleeding, and she glared at me with a ferocious expression. “Aubrey, why do you have to fight me for everything?” Liam hesitated. He let go of my hand, his gaze darting away, and reached for the doorknob to go back inside. I knew, in that moment, our seven-year relationship was over. My mother and brother’s scolding reached my ears again—the filthiest, most vulgar curses they reserved for me, the outsider, the intruder, when they were at their most furious. My brother forcefully pinned me against the wall, glaring at me fiercely. “Aubrey, can’t you just act your age? Are you a fucking idiot? Do you have to turn the whole family upside down?” I looked at my brother and my mother and said, “Don’t worry. Liam belongs to your Chloe now.” 04 Liam didn’t chase after me. I drove home in a daze. I packed all my belongings, took my dog, and left the apartment we had shared for seven years. It’s laughable. Even after seven years together, all my belongings in that place fit into just a few large boxes. I was going to find Sarah. She was my best friend, who, out of disgust for city life, had run off to the open plains of Wyoming to live freely for years. When I called her, she was out tending to her sheep. “Sarah, I’m driving out to stay with you. I’ve always said I wanted to see the plains.” “What’s wrong, Aubrey?” “Nothing, Sarah. I’m already on the road.” I drove non-stop. When Sarah picked me up at the rest stop, she gave me a massive hug first. “Aubrey, why are you so thin? You’re just skin and bones.” I told her honestly, “Sarah, I think I’m going to die.” Sarah’s eyes widened. “Don’t joke around like that. It’s bad luck.” I hugged her tightly. “Bone cancer. Late stage. Not much time left.” Sarah tried to shove me back into the car like a madwoman. “I’m driving you to the fucking hospital right now.” I shook my head. “Sarah, I’m tired. I want to see the plains, see your sheep. I can’t handle the treatments anymore. I want to leave beautifully, without regrets.” I left my car at the rest stop and got into Sarah’s pickup truck. I rested in the backseat, holding Buddy. Liam’s call came through. I popped out my SIM card and threw it out the window. Sarah asked, “Does Liam know?” “He doesn’t deserve to know.” “What about your mom and brother?” “Maybe a long time ago, they stopped being my mom and brother and just became someone else’s.” We pulled up to her cabin just as dawn was breaking. The sun was slowly rising in the distance, casting a faint glow that pierced the darkness. It was Buddy’s first time seeing such vast, open land. He ran and jumped like crazy, tongue hanging out, radiating pure joy. I thought, If I die, it’ll be good for Buddy to stay here. He can run free and worry-free. Sarah lit a cigarette. The smoke rings scattered in the wind, and her eyes looked a bit red. Finally, she stubbed out the cigarette and stomped on it hard a few times. “Fuck, fuck, fuck! Aubrey, are you an idiot?” I didn’t know what to say, but she pulled me into the cabin and then turned her back to me, her voice choking up. “Aubrey, that bastard Liam promised me he’d take good care of you. Is this how he takes care of you?” I gently tugged her sleeve. “Sarah, let’s not talk about him, okay?” 05 When I lay in bed with Sarah, she held my hand tightly the whole time. Her hands had gotten a bit rough, but the way she rubbed my palm gave me the most reassuring feeling. I leaned on her shoulder. “Sarah, am I weak for choosing to hide? I just don’t want to see them anymore.” “No, Aubrey. You can never wake someone who’s pretending to be asleep, and fighting won’t change your mom and brother’s favoritism. Running away is better.” Pain wracked my body again. I turned pale and took some painkillers out of my bag. Buddy lay nearby, whimpering softly. When Sarah fed me the pills, her hands were shaking. I forced a smile. “Sarah, I need your help with one more thing. “Sarah, my mom always said I spent a lot of David’s money on tuition and living expenses growing up. I’ve saved up quite a bit over the years. This $50,000, can you transfer it to their account for me? “Sarah, you’re my best friend, and I feel so guilty burdening you right before I die. There’s $15,000 left on that card. Just consider it my final gift to you, okay?” Sarah looked at me and let out a heavy sigh. “Aubrey, you should use this money to get treatment.” I shook my head. “Sarah, I don’t have time.” She didn’t say anything else, just turned her back to me and kept wiping her tears. I hugged her from behind. “Sarah, I’m so sorry. I know this is hard on you. If you feel it’s bad luck having me here, I can go die somewhere far away by myself.” “Aubrey, you asshole. I have money too. I have flocks of sheep and cattle. I can pay for your medical bills. Let’s get you treated, okay?” I rubbed her hair, my eyes red. “Sarah, do you know that just standing up straight is agony for me right now? I want to die beautifully. I don’t want chemo, I don’t want to lose my hair, and I definitely don’t want to die in the same city as them.” 06 Sarah stopped forcing me to see a doctor. That day, she sat out on the plains holding my medical report for a long time. Even from inside the cabin, I could hear her crying uncontrollably. She transferred the money from the card to David’s account for me. My mother rarely called Sarah, but she did this time. “Is Aubrey still throwing a tantrum? She went to stay with you, right? Well, that’s a relief. Tell her we got the money. It’s perfect timing, we can use it for Chloe’s medical bills.” Sarah couldn’t hold back her sarcasm. “Ma’am, if Aubrey was dying, would you stay by her side like you stay with Chloe?” My mother’s voice grew sharp and intense. “Sarah, tell Aubrey to stop being so petty and holding grudges against Chloe.” Sarah shot back, “Ma’am, isn’t one of Aubrey’s kidneys enough to repay you for raising her?” My mother paused, didn’t reply, and hung up the phone. I knew. I knew her too well. Only when she was dealing with Chloe was she a true, loving mother. Towards me, besides pressuring me to grow up faster and not be petty with my sister, she had nothing else to say. Even when I got into a top-tier university, she just glanced at the acceptance letter indifferently and said nothing. All because Chloe’s grades weren’t even good enough for a community college. She was afraid I would trigger Chloe. It’s fine. I’m used to it. Sarah drove me around the plains in her pickup truck. The grass was lush. When we parked, we sat in the back of the truck, watching Buddy run wild. I leaned against Sarah. “Sarah, when I die, scatter my ashes here. The grass here will definitely grow even thicker next year.” Sarah didn’t answer. She took a piece of candy from her pocket and put it in my mouth. “Come on, let’s not talk about that, okay?” But Sarah still cried. “I asked a doctor. If the patient’s will to live isn’t strong, the disease progresses very fast… You donated a kidney just six months ago… You only got sick a few months ago, didn’t you?” I patted her back. “Sarah, I really have no strength left.” Sarah hugged me tightly, and I suddenly remembered many things from childhood. “Sarah, do you remember? When my dad died, kids used to bully me and call me fatherless. You were the only one who stood up for me and protected me.” Sarah just choked back tears and didn’t speak. Her tears fell on my forehead, but I kept talking: “You protected me before, and I have a gift for you before I die. “Sarah, I put your name down as the beneficiary of my critical illness insurance. You have to live a good life.” Sarah broke down. “Aubrey, you’ve even planned things for after your death?” I wiped her tears. “Silly, don’t you love these plains the most? Whenever you come here, you’ll definitely be able to see me, and my puppy. Buddy is a very, very good dog, he’s just a picky eater. He doesn’t like dry kibble, only the dog food I make him. I’ll teach you how to make it over the next few days. I feel safe leaving Buddy with you, and he’ll be happy here.” I looked at Buddy panting and smiling at me in the distance. It’s nice. Just stay here from now on, good boy. Sarah hugged me tightly, pleading earnestly, “Aubrey, please don’t do this. Don’t do this. Let’s go get treatment. I don’t want your money. I’ll take you to get treated, okay? What’s the point of having that money if you’re not here? I can’t take care of your dog by myself if you’re gone.” 07 Why waste money on someone who’s already dying? I looked at Sarah and said seriously, “Sarah, I don’t want to waste any more time. Can you just let me have some dignity in my final days?” My nose started bleeding. She panicked, trying to stop the bleeding, then suddenly stood up. “Why isn’t it the bad people who die?!” She drove us back to the cabin. The moon was bright, the stars were sparse, and the lambs were settling down to sleep. I turned on my phone. I saw text messages from Liam. He knew my backup number. Those texts were manic—one moment saying we should break up, the next begging me not to leave. I didn’t even have to think; I knew those were Chloe’s doing. Then, a familiar number popped up on the screen. I answered it anyway. It was my brother. His tone was awkward, but he still spoke. “Aubrey, Chloe really likes Liam. Could you…” I didn’t even wait for him to finish before agreeing immediately. “I agree, brother. I haven’t bothered Liam. If Chloe has what it takes, Liam is hers.” My brother’s voice carried a hint of impatience. “What do you mean by that?” The pain in my body left me weak. I laughed softly. “Brother, do you remember when dad was still around? You used to carry me on your back and run everywhere. Brother, I gave all the money back to David. Can he give my mom and brother back to me?” My brother’s voice suddenly filled with alarm. “Brie, what’s wrong? Where are you?” I suddenly felt a sense of release. I whispered, “I gave my money, my kidney, and my boyfriend to the family. We should be even now, right? Mom won’t call me ungrateful anymore, will she? Brother, will you still be angry that I don’t care enough about my sister? Everything is hers now.” “Aubrey, where are you?” “If I had a choice, I wouldn’t have wanted to be Aubrey at all.” I hung up the phone. The physical pain hit me again. I watched Sarah feeding Buddy not far away. No, I couldn’t let her worry anymore. I forced myself to stand up and walked toward them, step by step. But I still passed out. 08 When I woke up, my vision had already started to blur. I knew my cancer had spread throughout my body. I even felt a cold dampness beneath me. As much as I didn’t want to admit it, I had lost control of my bladder. The cancer spreading, the lack of strength, the blindness, the incontinence—all of it stripped away any remaining dignity I had. When Sarah came in to change my clothes and the sheets, she didn’t say a word. In less than a month, she had become gaunt and haggard from taking care of me. Expressionless, she led my brother into the cabin. My brother’s eyes were red, and he even had a black eye—clearly Sarah had hit him to vent her anger. I was stunned for a moment. “I really don’t have anything else to give Chloe. Can you please stop pushing me? Can’t I even die in peace?” The man, nearly 6’3″, suddenly knelt on the floor and cried like a child. He wiped his nose and tears, shuffling closer to the bed on his knees. “Brie, let me take you home, okay? We’ll go home and get treatment. I promise I won’t go spend time with anyone else. You’re my biological sister, how could I…” I pushed him away. “Please, stay away from me.” He reached out to touch me, but I subtly dodged him. He looked stunned, his eyes red as he asked, “It hurts a lot, doesn’t it? Is it really painful? Brie, come home with me.” I suddenly broke down. The facade I had maintained all these days morphed into a ferocious expression. Like a madwoman, I cursed at him, “I’m dying! What are you pretending to be the good guy for now? If you really think of me as your sister, then don’t ever let me see you again.” Sarah took him outside, and I finally regained some peace. Sarah wiped her eyes. “He found us himself. I chased him away. Don’t be angry.” I didn’t know what Sarah said to him, but he never appeared in front of me again. The pain returned day after day, to the point where even painkillers were useless. I gritted my teeth and endured the agony, only daring to whimper softly when Sarah left the cabin. Buddy no longer loved running outside; he clung to me more and guarded me constantly. Enduring the pain and the unbearable soreness in every joint, I got up and played frisbee with him one last time. I threw the frisbee high and far, but Buddy didn’t budge. He just lay beside me, hugging my calf. I rubbed his head. “Do you want to make mom happy? Go on, fetch it. Good boy.” Only then did Buddy run off into the distance, but he kept looking back with every step, terrified I would disappear. Let it be like this, Buddy. You have to learn not to look back. I lied to Sarah, telling her the painkillers were working and that I could slowly stand and walk. She finally cheered up. She truly believed my condition might be improving. My brother didn’t visit me again, but I could still see lots of snacks and nutritional supplements left outside the cabin, along with a set of Barbie dolls I had dreamed of having as a child. I remember back then, David only bought one set of four dolls. Two for me, two for Chloe. But Chloe wanted all four. Without a word, my mother put all the dolls in Chloe’s room. She even scolded me in front of David: “Do you know how hard David works to pay for your schooling? And you still want to play with dolls? When you grow up and make your own money, buy your own. Don’t fight with Chloe.” Sarah hesitated. “Maybe he really regrets it. Should we…” I shook my head. “Sarah, even if he genuinely wants to treat me well now, it’s too late. I don’t need it at all anymore. Besides, I don’t want him living in the shadow of guilt. Let him go. Tell him not to come back, just pretend I’m living well somewhere far away.” Sarah sighed and said nothing more.

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My childhood best friend, who happens to be a massive A-list actor, claimed his pipes burst and came over to my place to shower. But while he was in there, I accidentally answered a FaceTime call from the current “it girl” co-star he was rumored to be dating. “What are you doing, babe?” “He’s in the shower. Do you want to call back later?” Right at that moment, my best friend’s voice echoed from the bathroom: “Hey, can you grab me a towel?” With that one sentence, the entire internet exploded. His carefully crafted “single and unavailable” persona? Fake. His secret, hidden-away girlfriend? Very real. 01 Liam Wright is my childhood best friend; we grew up together. When we were little, I was determined to be his “boss,” but somehow, he beat me to it by becoming Hollywood’s newest obsession. So, I lost my chance to make him call me “boss.” To keep his ego in check, every time I watched his shows, I made sure my curtains were pulled tight. Like right now. Watching him play the devoted, silently suffering golden retriever trailing after the female lead, I clenched my fists. He was always a complete goofball in front of me, but on TV, he was playing this innocent, lovesick puppy. Swish. The curtains were suddenly ripped open. The same Liam who was just standing in the pouring rain for love on my screen was now standing in front of me, soaking wet. The outline of his abs was faintly visible through his clinging shirt. He waved a hand in front of my face. “Forgot what I look like?” I smoothly hid my iPad behind my back. “No. What are you doing playing wet t-shirt contest in the middle of the day?” “Just tell me you’re tempted.” “I will literally punch you into next week, believe it or not.” I raised my fist, pretending to hit him. My heart, however, was secretly racing like a wild horse. “Hit me then.” He smirked, reaching out to ruthlessly ruffle my hair. He swaggered past me with his long legs. “A pipe burst at my place. I came over to use your shower. You don’t mind, right?” 02 “How does a pipe just burst out of nowhere?” “It couldn’t handle how hot I am.” He moved fast, shutting the bathroom door before I could run over and smack him. “If my pipes burst because of you, I’m ending you.” He has the exact same phone as me, a white iPhone 14 Pro Max. He’s also incredibly lazy, so when he liked my phone case, he forced me to order him the exact same one. So, when a ringtone went off, I instinctively grabbed the phone and hit accept. The audio came through before the video buffered: “What are you doing, babe?” “I missed you so much.” Those two sentences left me absolutely stunned. I finally realized I had accidentally answered Liam’s phone. “Uh, he’s in the shower right now. Do you want to call back in a bit?” “He’s in the shower? Wait, who are you? Don’t you know you shouldn’t answer other people’s phones?” She frowned, firing off three questions in a row. I was just about to explain when Liam’s voice rang out from the bathroom: “Hazel, grab me a towel, would you?” “Hold on—” 03 The call had already been disconnected. I had to put the phone down and go find a towel. “Open up, towel delivery.” I knocked on the bathroom door. “Yeah. I’m opening the door now, don’t go peeping again.” “…” What did he mean by again? I instantly felt a vein pop in my forehead. During our junior year of high school, I went over to his house for late-night snacks. His bedroom door was cracked open, so I just walked in like I usually did, right exactly as he walked out of his bathroom, completely naked. That was the first time I ever saw the usually arrogant golden boy blush bright red and flee back into the bathroom like his life depended on it. Who knew that later, he would insanely twist that memory into me peeping on him while he showered. Thinking about it, a faint heat rose to my cheeks. “Who wants to look at you? It’s not like I didn’t see you running around bare-bottomed when we were kids…” A man’s hand reached out—defined knuckles, faint blue veins tracing the back—and snatched the pink towel inside. He let out a soft scoff. “Why is it still pink?” “It’s the only color I have. You got a problem with it?” “I wouldn’t dare.” His tone was so incredibly punchable. When he finally came out, I tossed his phone at him. “Some girl FaceTimed you earlier. I think it’s the one you were rumored to be dating last year. I thought it was my phone, so I answered it. Are you guys actually…” He glanced at me. “Don’t let your imagination run wild. I’m single.” He took the phone, checked it, and his brow furrowed slightly. Then, he casually tossed the phone aside. He lowered his head, drying his hair with the pink towel. The line from his neck to his waist formed a sharp, incredibly attractive arc. “You’re not going to call her back?” “Too busy. I’ll deal with it later.” For some inexplicable reason, I let out a quiet sigh of relief. 04 “Oh right, have you been watching my latest show?” As he leaned closer, the scent of my gardenia body wash wafted over from him. I blurted out, “Of course not.” Who knew that the second after he slowly nodded and said, “Haven’t seen it, huh?”, he’d lunge forward and snatch the iPad right out from behind my back. I shot up from the couch. “What are you doing?!” He laughed. “Nothing. Just checking your watch history. Why are you overreacting?” No, no, absolutely not. If he found out I secretly watched his shows, he’d probably brag about it for the next five years. “Give it back!” But Liam calmly sat down on the sofa, leaned back, and held the iPad high in the air, completely out of my reach. “Tsk, can those short little T-Rex arms reach this?” I launched myself at him, using all my strength to grab the iPad, and yanked it tight against my chest. I was just about to flash a victorious smile when I suddenly realized I was literally straddling his lap. My upper body was pressed against his, the position incredibly, undeniably compromising. “Don’t fucking pose like that…” He tilted his head back, his Adam’s apple bobbing. A burning heat instantly spread from my ears to my cheeks. But before I even had a second to scramble off him. BANG. My front door swung open. The heavy tension in the air was instantly shattered by two synchronized “Holy shits.” My best friend Chloe and our other childhood friend, Noah, stood there, jaws on the floor. “Holy shit, you two have been hooking up behind our backs?! How could you betray the trust of our childhood friendship?! Fake sobbing…” “Ahhhhh, my eyes! I shouldn’t be seeing this! Oh my god!” “We are not hooking up!” I sprang off Liam like I was launched from a catapult. “This jerk stole my iPad, I was just about to teach him a lesson.” Liam leaned back against the sofa, looking perfectly content, like he had just been thoroughly ravished. “Yeah. She was teaching me a lesson.” 05 Noah looked at Liam. “Bro, you know you’re trending at number one right now, and you’re just chilling here playing around?” Me: “Isn’t trending his default state of being?” Noah tossed his phone to me. “You’re involved in this one too. Take a look.” The words “Liam Wright Hiding Secret Girlfriend” had a massive red “BREAKING” tag next to them. My heart instantly sank, and I shot Liam a shocked look: “You have a secret girlfriend? Since when…” The next second, Liam’s fingers pinched my upper and lower lips together. “I just told you. I’m single.” Noah patted my shoulder. “Whoa, whoa, hold the banter. We have a massive situation right now!” Chloe chimed in. “Yeah, you two really need to look at this.” I didn’t think much of it until I looked—then I almost had a heart attack. —It turned out that the FaceTime call earlier was from the current “it girl,” Aria Stone, while she was live-streaming a reality show. I clicked on a trending clip from the show. It was a small prank segment where the female cast members had to call a “guy friend,” tell him “I miss you,” and see how he reacted. One of the cast members suggested: “Has anyone called Liam Wright? I really want to see his reaction, hahaha.” The moment she said that, the live chat immediately started tagging Aria. She acted shy. “Oh my gosh, you guys guessed it. I was just about to call him.” She immediately dialed Liam’s number. At that moment, the livestream viewership spiked to its absolute peak. And then came the part I had just personally experienced. When it started ringing, Aria nervously touched her chest, looking incredibly expectant as she delivered the highly anticipated, “I miss you.” But the voice that answered was mine. Then, the top half of my face appeared on screen, saying he was in the shower. The live chat instantly derailed. The screen was flooded with nothing but question marks. “Whoa, WTF is happening???” “Wait wait wait? Did I hear that right? A girl just said he’s in the shower?” And then, when Liam’s voice echoed from the bathroom asking me to bring him a towel, the chat exploded completely. “I’m just watching a reality show, and my man suddenly has a girlfriend?!” “‘Hazel’? We need a full FBI investigation on that name ASAP!” “Nooooo, they told us he was a single, unavailable ice king! It was all a persona! I’m sobbing.” “Hey, can the girl take the phone into the bathroom? Not that I want to see anything, but it’s just rude to shower off-camera.” The comments were scrolling so fast I couldn’t even read them. Aria still had a smile pinned to her face, but she quickly ended the call, the amusement completely vanishing from her eyes. “Oops, sorry guys, I think I accidentally dialed the wrong number…” But a male cast member next to her leaned in, sounding absolutely certain. “Let me see. No, that’s definitely Liam’s contact.” Aria’s expression instantly froze. “Then maybe it’s his sister…” “No way. Liam has mentioned in interviews that he’s an only child.” The live chat instantly seized the opportunity to spam: “She’s just his ‘sister’… sure, Jan…” 06 And then Twitter basically broke. #LiamWrightSecretGirlfriend #LiamWrightMysteryGirl #LiamWrightShowersWithoutATowel Fortunately, only the top half of my face was visible. Aria had played the role of the female lead’s best friend who secretly pined for the male lead (played by Liam) in his massive hit crime thriller. Her character’s silent, unrequited love resonated with a lot of viewers. As a result, a massive wave of “shippers” were constantly looking for proof that they were dating in real life. On the night of the finale, their names trended together for hours. A lot of fans had been hoping for a happy ending for them off-screen. Now, looking at the chaotic discussions online, some were wailing that Liam wasn’t “staying pure.” But mostly, it was people crying that their ship had officially sunk. Me: “Liam, I think I might have accidentally caused a massive disaster for you…” He tossed his phone aside. “I don’t think it’s a bad thing. I actually think it’s pretty great.” “How is this great?” Liam: “Since she decided to call me on a livestream, I was going to end up trending with her name attached to mine no matter what I did today. Now, that’s not going to happen.” Chloe chimed in: “He’s right! If you hadn’t answered, today’s headlines would definitely be about Liam and Aria. But because you picked up, the entire narrative shifted. That show ended a year and a half ago, and she still occasionally posts vague, ‘secret crush’ quotes to piggyback off his fame. It’s so annoying.” I understood now. “Oh, so you’re saying I actually did you a favor?” “Exactly,” Chloe winked at me. “Why don’t you guys just admit you’re dating and capitalize on the hype, hehe.” Me: “What are you even talking about? We aren’t dating, what is there to admit…” Noah nudged Liam with his shoulder: “It’s fine. You two can just confess to each other right now and boom, it’s real. Keep the good stuff in the family, right?” Hearing the word “confess,” my heart inexplicably skipped a beat. Liam’s expression shifted slightly. He shot Noah a look: “Back off. You think this is something to joke about?” I guiltily joined in: “Yeah, exactly.” Soon after, his manager called to discuss a crisis management strategy. After taking the call outside, Liam came back into the living room. “Hazel, the producers are going to call back in a minute. Do you want to go on camera with me to clear this up?” 07 On the show, the other guests had finished their calls. Only one guy was left, a baby-faced actor named Connor. He got his cue from the producers. “I’m good friends with Liam. Since he was busy showering earlier and I don’t think everyone got enough of the drama, I’ll call him again, hehe.” Soon enough, Liam’s phone rang beside me. As soon as he answered, Connor said in a sickeningly sweet voice, “Missed you, bro.” Liam clicked his tongue. “Knock it off. I know you’re filming.” “Liam, Liam,” Aria suddenly leaned into the frame. “It’s us!” But the moment I stepped into the shot, the smile on her face stiffened slightly. Connor’s eyes widened in surprise. “Whoa, Liam, is this your girlfriend?” “She’s my best friend. We grew up together. My pipes burst, so I came over to borrow her shower.” Then he explained why he was at my house. Of course, he was mostly explaining it to the audience watching the livestream. Connor played along, “No wonder! You guys are childhood friends.” I held up my phone to the camera. “Sorry about earlier. Our phones look exactly the same. I thought it was mine ringing and just answered it without looking.” Connor flashed a gossipy smile: “But why do you guys have the exact same phone case? The internet is convinced they’re matching couple cases, haha.” Liam: “I thought her case was cute, so I just had her order me the exact same one to save time.” I nodded. “Exactly. Our relationship is completely platonic.” After saying that, I looked at him. Neither of us was used to being this serious in front of each other. The moment we made eye contact, we couldn’t hold it together and both cracked a smile. Liam pinched my cheek. “Keep a straight face. Give me a little respect here.” I tried to stifle my laughter. “Okay, okay.” It reminded me of high school when our homeroom teacher made us do a poetry reading together. We had practiced it perfectly. But when the teacher made us do a dry run at the front of the class, we made eye contact halfway through and both burst out laughing. Just like now, the more people watching, the harder it was to keep a straight face. While we weren’t paying attention, the vibe in the live chat completely shifted. It was entirely flooded with variations of “YOU GUYS ARE SUS.” “Sus. The way they look at each other is so sus.” “Sus. There is definitely something going on there.” “Sorry to break the chain, but is Liam secretly in love with her? That soft look in his eyes, the cheek pinch… I literally cannot stop myself from overthinking this AHHHH!” “Omg, the childhood friends-to-lovers trope is everything! Why is Liam acting like this in front of her? I’m crying.” “Just stop denying it and announce it already.” “I’ve been reading a childhood-friends romance novel lately, and now I finally have faces to imagine it with, hehe.” “Damn! I always thought this guy was totally clueless about romance, turns out he was secretly blooming this whole time.” Amidst the chaos in the chat, Aria’s voice suddenly cut in. “By the way, Liam, the viewers were asking: if you hadn’t known it was me calling earlier, would you have blushed?” The live chat was instantly confused. “Who asked that? The viewers?” “You clearly wanted to ask that yourself, don’t use us as a shield.” “No,” Liam answered flatly. “I generally don’t answer FaceTime calls from people I’m not close with. Plus, this is my work phone. Today was just a complete accident.” It was a brief statement, but the implications were massive. “Hahahaha, Aria, are you sure you’re not just here to act as their wingman?” “So, Liam and Aria aren’t even close? I thought they hung out all the time off-screen.” “I’m so done. In past interviews, Liam clearly stated he wouldn’t date anyone in the industry. The fans just refused to listen and insisted Aria was his exception. They got slapped in the face today, huh.” “Honestly, Aria pulling stunts like this every time has completely ruined any goodwill I had for her.” “Liam has my heart. He never clarifies rumors this directly. He’s actually anxious this time. He isn’t worried about the audience misunderstanding; he’s terrified his childhood bestie will misunderstand! I’m sobbing.” “Seriously, this authentic childhood friends ship is so much better than those forced, fake Hollywood showmances.” I watched the rapidly refreshing comments. I didn’t think much of it until I looked—then I almost had a heart attack. “Guys, stop making stuff up. You know how Liam looks at people. He looks at a dog with deep affection.” The chat instantly flooded with “WE DON’T BELIEVE YOU.” Me: “If you don’t believe me, ask him. His phone is full of terrible, ugly pictures of me.” Liam: “Yeah. I have gigabytes of them.” But the chat was impenetrable. “Keeping gigabytes of her pictures and refusing to delete them? True love confirmed!” “I don’t care, even if the President says otherwise, there is definitely something going on between you two.” I patted Liam’s arm. “Control your fans. Shipping anything and everything is only going to hurt them.” Liam’s lips curved into a smile as he looked at me. “Is that so? I heard shipping a little bit of everything is a balanced diet.” “???” How could he be making jokes at a time like this? I secretly punched his leg under the table, but he caught my fist in his hand and refused to let go. A tingling sensation spread from my fingertips, rushing up to heat my ears. 08 Before I could even process what was happening, the narrative online shifted yet again. Some gossip account had somehow dug up my TikTok profile. “Liam’s PR team won the lottery today. A small-time influencer ‘accidentally’ answered his phone while he was showering, trying to get famous. They played along, created this ‘childhood best friends’ persona, and the internet ate it up. Isn’t this PR stunt way more effective than a cease and desist?” “Wait, does anyone actually believe childhood friends buy matching phone cases, shower at each other’s houses, AND accidentally answer FaceTime calls? You don’t even need half a brain to know that’s impossible, right?” Yes, I have a TikTok account with about 300k followers. When I was studying in London, I’d often post pictures and videos of my daily life. I didn’t care about the follower count; it just kind of happened. I never expected that one day I’d be labeled an “influencer” by a gossip blog. And suddenly, a bunch of “sober” voices emerged. “I knew it was a PR stunt from the start. It’s hilarious how many people are falling for it.” “Honestly, I wanted to say this earlier. How could there be so many coincidences? A burst pipe? An asteroid hitting your bathroom would be more believable.” “That girl did it on purpose, obviously. But everyone is shipping them. So funny.” “I knew yesterday it couldn’t be a childhood friend thing. What guy friend has so little boundaries that he showers at a girl’s house? Turns out she’s an influencer…” “Pack it up, everyone. Rich guys and actors all end up with influencers eventually. We all know how it goes.” “The modern male celebrity’s go-to excuse to avoid being cancelled: ‘She’s just my childhood friend.’ If she’s really his childhood friend, why was there zero trace of her when he was in college?” “Exactly. Liam debuted in college. If he had a childhood best friend, his hardcore fans would have dug her up years ago.” “Aria is the real victim here. The look in her eyes earlier actually broke my heart.” A flood of unprecedented hate comments poured into my vlog account. “Don’t think we don’t know what you were trying to do by answering that call. Your desperation for fame is practically spilling out of the screen.” “Stop playing innocent. Everyone knows exactly what you’re trying to pull.” 09 At the same time, Aria posted a tweet late at night. It made my jaw drop. It was a few selfies of her with tears streaming down her face. “Rewatching the show I was in, I still want to cry. Having a secret crush is so painful.” Her tweet was instantly picked up by the gossip blogs. “Oh, honey, stop thinking about that man. He likes influencers, he doesn’t deserve you! Crying emojis” “So Aria is the only one still stuck in character. She bore the weight of it all alone.” A massive wave of people expressed their sympathy for her. “Wait, don’t get distracted by the narrative here. Aria has been clinging to Liam’s fame for relevance this whole time. Why is she acting like the victim now?” Whenever Liam’s fans tried to defend him, they were swarmed and mocked: “Hilarious. You actually thought that girl was just his childhood friend?” “Fans are selectively blind. You’re defending him, but he’s not going to date you.” “I’ve been a fan for four years, and I think he and Hazel look great together. Is that a crime?” “You claim to be die-hard fans, but it took you four years to find out he has a childhood friend named Hazel?” “…” 10 It was the middle of the night. The controversy was still brewing, and I didn’t want to act impulsively. I was terrified that one wrong post would be twisted by the gossip blogs. Liam was probably asleep too. No matter how anxious I was, I had to wait until tomorrow to discuss how to clear things up with him. I tossed my phone aside. Out of sight, out of mind. Sleep was more important. The next morning, I was woken up by my phone vibrating incessantly. Chloe: “Hazel! Look at Twitter! Liam posted photos of you guys!” 11 Liam’s clarification post went up at 4:00 AM. It was a carousel of nine photos. They were pictures of us together, from childhood all the way to adulthood. There were photos of us at the beach, sliding down slides at the playground when we were little, standing on the high school track field, reciting poetry together at the podium, and that one time on a snowy street in London. “To those spreading rumors, enough is enough. If this isn’t what childhood friends look like, would you like to discuss the definition with my lawyers?” Once those photos were released, the rumors shattered instantly. The internet exploded. “Haters, come out and apologize right now! Just because you don’t have a childhood best friend doesn’t mean no one else can!” “Ahhhhh! 4:00 AM! This is the fastest response I’ve ever seen! He refuses to let his girl suffer even a tiny bit of injustice. I’m sobbing.” “Those gossip accounts are fucking shameless, always trying to control the narrative. What did the ‘Blank Canvas’ (Liam and Hazel) ship ever do to you? So angry!” “Haters, open your titanium eyes and look at this! If this isn’t a childhood romance, what is? Stop claiming ‘all men are trash’ just because you thought your fave was messing around with an influencer!” He was even replying to people’s questions in the comments. Comment: “What are you going to do about those gossip accounts spreading rumors?” Liam: “Nothing. Just preparing to sue them.” Comment: “Did your pipes really burst? [Doge emoji] [Doge emoji] I don’t even want to expose you.” Liam: “They really burst. [Doge emoji]” Comment: “Bro, why did no one ever capture you guys together during the years you debuted in college? Shouldn’t childhood friends hang out often?” Liam: “She was going to university in the UK. Did you think I didn’t want to hang out with her?” “Hahahahaha! Am I detecting a hint of resentment in that sentence?” “The 8th photo was taken in London!!! Liam went to London to see his Hazel! Weren’t there fans who spotted him in the UK a few times back then? Case closed! He was going to see Hazel! I’m crying.” Eagle-eyed netizens even found the account that frequently interacted with me in my TikTok comments. “He is amazing. He commented on every single video. The most frequent question was, ‘When are you coming back to the States?’” The hate comments from before were buried. “Haters, please stop. If you scare our sister-in-law into not posting videos anymore, what is Liam going to look at?” Several alumni from our high school graduation year also stepped forward. “Oh my god, haters just invent things out of thin air. Calling her an influencer instead of a childhood friend? I’m so done. We were shipping Liam and Hazel back in high school, okay?” The atmosphere in the comments section under Aria’s crying tweet also drastically changed. “Girl, wake up. That ship sailed a decade ago. Stop being so dramatic, okay?” “You really know how to play the victim to rally your fans.” She quickly scrambled to post another tweet. “Sorry guys, couldn’t you tell I was just acting as a wingman??? I also think the ‘Blank Canvas’ ship is adorable. I posted that on purpose. Couldn’t you tell?” Netizens gave their sharp critiques. “The last time I was this speechless was the last time she did something like this.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “439059”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

On the day I was diagnosed with stomach cancer, his childhood friend announced her pregnancy on Facebook. Ethan rushed home and signed the divorce papers, but he threw my diagnosis report on the floor with disdain. “Sophia, don’t you think this pathetic attempt to win me back is a bit unnecessary?” 01 Ethan saw the divorce papers I had prepared, and at the same time, he saw my diagnosis report. “Sophia, stop using these pathetic tricks.” Ethan casually tossed the paper on the floor. “I’ve been using you all along. My love for you was all fake.” “I know,” I replied softly, my stomach cramping in pain. I had known since the day he testified against my father in court, since his childhood friend, Chloe, told me it was my father who had ruined their families. “I’m sorry. I won’t do it again. Just pretend you didn’t see it.” I carefully put my diagnosis report away and handed him a pen. “Asking for a few million in the divorce settlement shouldn’t be too much for Mr. Vance, right?” I couldn’t defend my father’s actions. But Ethan had lied to me for ten years; that had to be worth something. When I went to visit my dad in prison, he looked incredibly haggard. He said, “Sophie, don’t blame Ethan. It was all my greed back then. You two live a good life together, and just remember to visit me often.” Fighting back a sob, I forced my tears down. I said, “Okay.” I had promised my dad I would live a good life. I was going to get treatment, survive, and strive to outlive him. Ethan’s cold sneer pulled me back from my memories. “A few million? Is that enough to pay off his debts?” Ethan flipped open the agreement and read it carefully. “Should I have my lawyer revise this?” Every word hit my heart like a block of ice. “My father wronged you, and he wronged many people. I know that. But you don’t have to pay for it.” My hand holding the paper curled up, wrinkling the edge, my sweaty palm slowly dampening it. “This money buys my ten years. It’s enough.” “Fine.” Ethan nodded, his jaw clenched, his eyes terrifyingly cold. He had disguised himself perfectly for ten years. In front of me, he let me throw tantrums and vent my emotions on him. He had always been careful to protect my feelings, his expression as gentle as day one for ten years straight. This was the first time I had ever seen him angry. The veins on the back of his hand bulged, and the pen looked like it was going to snap in half. Ethan signed quickly. His handwriting was a bit messy due to his haste, and every stroke was so forceful it seemed to tear through the paper. “My dad bought this house for us as a wedding gift. I plan to sell it to pay off some of his debts. I’ve already packed your things; they’re in those big boxes. The things you gave me are in there too.” As I spoke, I subconsciously looked down and noticed a small patch of skin on my ring finger that was a different shade—where my wedding ring used to be. When Ethan proposed, he told me that if I put it on, I would be tied to him for a lifetime. I had cried and replied that a lifetime was too short; I wanted the next life too. But there were no two lifetimes, not even one. We only had ten years. To me, those ten years felt fleeting, but for Ethan, every day must have felt like a year. “You…” I interrupted him: “You packed so fast. Why did you always pretend to be so scatterbrained before?” A sentence can have completely different meanings depending on the tone, and Ethan’s was clearly sarcastic. I used to be very scatterbrained, and Ethan always kept the house perfectly organized. My lips curled up slightly: “It’s not fast. It’s been two months since my dad was sent to prison, Mr. Vance.” He hadn’t been home for two months, but I could see his updates on Chloe’s Facebook. I knew Chloe posted them deliberately for me to see. As for why we were Facebook friends… it was because she was Ethan’s secretary. Three years after Ethan started his company, she barged into our lives. She pretended to be my good friend, sending me dozens of messages every day, sharing details of Ethan’s life at work, making me completely drop my guard around her. Little did I know, it was all exactly what she wanted me to see. Ethan’s pupils contracted, and he pursed his lips in silence. “When it comes to pretending, Mr. Vance is clearly the master.” I forced the corners of my mouth up, refusing to let my tears fall. Ethan’s tall figure loomed over me, and the smell of nicotine instantly flooded my nose. “Pregnant women shouldn’t be exposed to secondhand smoke. Think about Chloe and smoke less.” I placed my hands on his chest and pushed him away. Chloe’s latest Facebook post was a picture of a positive pregnancy test. At that time, I was holding the freshly printed divorce agreement. The paper was warm, but my hands and feet were ice cold. I guess I should have ‘liked’ it. Ethan hadn’t expected my push and stumbled back two steps before catching his balance. A flash of shock crossed his eyes, but he quickly returned to his cold demeanor. “Didn’t you say you were selling the house? I’ll offer 10% above market value. Sell it to me, and you leave.” As soon as he finished, I was the one in shock. I didn’t understand why Ethan was being so spiteful. Maybe he just had too much money and nowhere to spend it. I had no reason to turn down money, so I nodded. “But before the contract is finalized, I’d like you to move out first.” “I’ll call my lawyer right now to draft the purchase agreement. I’ll wire you the money together, and you move out.” Ethan was inexplicably acting like a petulant child, his jaw clenched tight, emphasizing the words “you move out.” His anger was his business, but this arrangement suited me perfectly. I nodded again: “Arrange it however you like. I have an appointment this afternoon.” With that, I went into the bedroom to pack my own things. There wasn’t much left. After removing what I gave Ethan and what he gave me, and considering I was in a rush to leave, I had already purged my belongings once. The moment I closed my suitcase, the purchase agreement was sent over. The moment I signed, I caught sight of my relieved smile in the mirror. I looked up and met Ethan’s eyes, startled by his dark, brooding face. On a whim, I said to him, “Pleasure doing business with you.” As I was leaving, a large box flew past me and landed in the trash can in the hallway. The loud crash startled me. Before I could recover, another box flew into the trash. I didn’t need to look back to know it was Ethan. He was throwing away the trash. One box was the things he gave me; the other, the things I gave him. When I regained my composure, I didn’t look back and stepped into the elevator. Strangely, until the elevator doors closed, I didn’t hear the sound of his door shutting behind me. 02 Ethan’s money arrived very quickly. It seemed he was even more eager to end this relationship than I was. But surprisingly, we ran into each other that very afternoon, in the hospital’s obstetrics and gynecology department. The child of one of the victims from years ago had just been born. Due to a breech presentation, they faced exorbitant medical bills. I wanted to help them. Of course, I also hoped they might put in a good word for my dad. The woman’s husband said she refused to see me. He also said that since she had just given birth, her emotions were unstable, and he asked me never to appear before them again. Dejected, I left the maternity ward, only to bump straight into a couple: Ethan and Chloe. Their shock at seeing me was equal to mine. I had no desire to humiliate myself, so I pretended not to see them and quickened my pace to walk past. As we brushed past each other, my wrist was suddenly grabbed. A large, slightly damp palm clamped down on me. My forward momentum was halted, and my heart gave a sharp jolt. Terrified, I looked up into Ethan’s bloodshot eyes. The smell of nicotine on him was even stronger than this morning, making me dizzy. Just how heavy of a smoker was he? I couldn’t stand the smell of smoke. When I was little, my dad would only smoke in the bathroom when the craving hit him. But in the ten years I was with Ethan, not once did I taste even a hint of nicotine bitterness, not even when we kissed. He truly had incredible endurance. He must have suffered a lot over these ten years. The pain in my wrist quickly made me discard my inner self-mockery. Ethan’s voice dropped near my ear: “Why are you here?” I looked up into his eyes, which seemed to be desperately suppressing some intense emotion. But right now, besides awkwardness, I only felt confused. “Our marriage is over. I don’t need to report my schedule to you.” I didn’t want to show my vulnerability to Ethan and Chloe. My grip on my handbag tightened, my nails digging into my palms. “Are you pregnant?” Ethan took a step closer, suddenly closing the distance between us. Hot breath laced with nicotine washed over me. Chloe, standing nearby, widened her eyes and bit her lip resentfully. I let out a silent laugh and looked down, prying Ethan’s fingers off one by one. “Mr. Vance is overthinking things. Your protection was always very thorough.” A few years ago, I did want a child. But every time I brought it up with Ethan, he would always say his company was just starting out, and if we had a baby too early, he was afraid he wouldn’t have time to spend with them. I thought about how my dad frequently missed my school events because of work, and felt Ethan made a valid point. After a few times, I let it go. So, I hadn’t brought it up in years, only hoping his company would stabilize soon. If he had a child with me, he would be tied to that child for the rest of his life. And that child would be a permanent barrier between him and Chloe. Those excuses were just meant to stall me. He had been with Chloe for two months, and she was already pregnant. It clearly showed it wasn’t about fearing a lack of a father’s presence, but about not wanting a child with me. As soon as I finished speaking, a crack appeared in Ethan’s expression. “Sophia, don’t lie to me,” he said through gritted teeth. “I have no reason to lie to you.” The strong smell of nicotine made me frown slightly, and I took two steps back to widen the gap between us. Chloe watched Ethan, her face gradually darkening. “Then why are you at the obstetrics department?” he asked again, pointing at the large sign above the department door. Only then did I notice he was still wearing the watch I had given him. It was my birthday gift to him the year we got married. But I had clearly packed this watch into the box, the very box Ethan had thrown into the trash that morning. So I leaned toward another possibility: I must have seen wrong. “One of the victims is here. I came to visit. Is Mr. Vance satisfied with that answer?” I didn’t understand why Ethan kept pressing me, insisting I tear open my scars for him to see. But I knew that if I didn’t explain clearly today, I might not be able to leave. Neither Ethan nor Chloe would allow for the possibility of my pregnancy. I forced back the welling tears and made myself flash a strained smile. This time, they didn’t stop me from leaving. 03 Three days later, after visiting some of the families harmed by my father, I returned to the hospital for a follow-up. “Your condition is in the intermediate stage right now. As long as you receive active treatment, the chances of a cure are very high.” The doctor was a man around my age named Liam. For some reason, his name sounded familiar, but I couldn’t remember where I had heard it. My stomach started cramping again. As I stood up, my feet felt like they were stepping on cotton—powerless. I felt a bit dizzy, and by the time I came to, he was holding my arm, steadying me. “You look terrible,” Liam said. “I recommend you get admitted as soon as possible.” “Give me a little more time. I still have some things to do.” I wanted to finish visiting all the victims’ families, hoping to make amends for my dad, and I wanted to wait until his sentencing was announced before I was admitted. “Sophia, don’t be stubborn. While there is life, there is hope.” This was the first time Liam had used my first name directly, and I was slightly taken aback. I met his serious gaze, then quickly lowered my head and looked away. “Give me a few more days. I want to wait for my dad’s sentence.” Those few short words drained all the strength from my body. After a long pause, Liam replied, “Okay.” “I’m off the clock too. Where do you live? I’ll give you a ride.” Before I could speak, Liam offered. “It’s fine…” I waved my hand weakly. “I can go back myself…” “With your current condition, how can you go home alone?” Liam sighed. “Ms. Miller, I don’t want you joking around with your life.” He spoke very seriously, like a teacher scolding a bad student. Helpless, I could only nod. Since coming to the hospital for check-ups, I had seen Liam a few times. We didn’t have much to talk about, and the ride was silent. Until… He parked his car in the underground garage of my rented apartment. The moment I stepped out, headlights from the opposite car flashed directly at me, blinding me for a few seconds. When my vision cleared, I saw it was Ethan’s car. He was suddenly right in front of us. With a loud thud, Liam was knocked to the ground, a glaring smear of blood on the corner of his mouth. My mind was in chaos. I had no idea why Ethan suddenly appeared here, nor why he hit Liam. I quickly shoved Ethan away and helped Liam up. “What are you doing?” Ethan’s eyes looked murderous, a dark, hostile aura filling his pupils. “What are you doing?” he pointed at Liam. This time, I saw the watch on his wrist clearly. The strap was engraved with his initials, ‘EV’. It was definitely the one I gave him. “Bringing another man home the very day of our divorce. Sophia, if you commit adultery, I think our divorce agreement should be void.” Ethan’s words carried a gritted-teeth intensity. Liam warily tried to shield me behind him. Seeing this, Ethan raised an eyebrow and reached out to grab me first. With a cold sneer, I raised my hand and slapped him. The crisp sound echoed through the underground garage, and Ethan’s cheek quickly swelled. He slowly turned his head back, clearly caught off guard by my slap. “Ethan, have you lost your mind?!” My palm stung fiercely. The recoil kept my hand hovering in the air, trembling slightly. “That child in Chloe’s belly is yours, isn’t it? After all these years at the company, you know perfectly well what you two did behind my back! If we’re really going to calculate who cheated first, you’re the one who should be leaving with nothing!” My face felt like it was burning. I realized I was screaming, tears uncontrollably streaming down my face. I looked pathetic. And it was all in front of Liam, an outsider. To my surprise, Ethan actually laughed after hearing this. “What if I told you that Chloe and I have never been intimate, and when she went to the hospital for a check-up today, she told me the positive pregnancy test in the photo wasn’t hers?” Ethan’s gaze shifted to Liam, and he leaned in closer. “What about you?” Ethan’s words were like a bombshell, completely overturning all my previous certainties and leaving me at a loss. I didn’t understand why he was acting like this. One moment he agreed to the divorce, throwing away everything that held our memories, and the next, he appeared before me in a rage, questioning my relationship with Liam. “Are you alright, Mr. Vance?” Liam spoke before I could. He wiped the blood from his mouth with a tissue. “I think you’ve misunderstood. Ms. Miller and I are strictly doctor and patient. Given her current health, I didn’t feel comfortable letting her drive home alone, so I offered to give her a ride. “I also hope Mr. Vance can manage his emotions and think before acting. Since you’re already divorced, there’s no need to harass her. If you’re trying to reconcile, don’t use such an aggressive approach.” Liam finished and exchanged a glance with me. “Ms. Miller, remember to get admitted on time and take care of yourself. Goodbye.” I nodded at him, full of guilt. “About today… I’m really sorry.” He gave a small smile. “Don’t blame yourself.” Ethan seemed lost in Liam’s words, unable to snap out of it for a long time. I couldn’t be bothered to deal with him anymore and headed straight for the elevator entrance. Hurried footsteps sounded behind me: “Sophia, that report… is it real?” Ethan caught up with me and pulled the door shut just as I had opened it. I looked up, meeting his somewhat vacant eyes. “Does it have anything to do with you? Wasn’t your goal to ‘catch me in the act’ so I’d leave with nothing?” Just like that morning, Ethan still refused to believe the report. But before it was disdain; now, it was denial. “Sophia, it’s not like that…” He scratched the back of his head in frustration, then suddenly grabbed both my hands as if he remembered something. “The reason I came is because Andrew told me just now that he’s selling all his shares. He also told me that the person who initially invested was actually you.” He looked at me, his eyes full of remorse and helplessness. “Why?” he asked. “Because I loved you.” When you like someone, it’s just like that. You only want them to be happy, you don’t want to see them defeated by difficulties, you don’t want to see them sad or dejected. So back then, I took out all my savings and asked Andrew to put on an act for me. I knew Ethan’s pride, so I never planned to tell him the truth. Even when I needed to sell the shares to pay off my dad’s debts, I didn’t let Andrew reveal the truth. I didn’t expect Ethan to find out anyway. “I said loved, Mr. Vance. Don’t misunderstand.” I tried to pull my hands away, but his grip only tightened. “And now?” he asked, the anger surrounding him instantly turning into an obsession. “Now, I don’t love you anymore.” Since he never loved me, why should I keep loving him? Ethan’s eyes flickered, as if stung by something, a faint shimmer in the corners of his eyes. “Why…” “You clearly loved me so much. Why divorce me just like that?” He grabbed my hands and pulled me into his arms, the strong smell of nicotine enveloping me. 04 “Ethan, don’t you find yourself ridiculous?” Unable to bear it any longer, I kneed him hard. He groaned and bent over, but his hands still held on tight. “Sophia, can we start over?” He looked up, tear streaks faintly reflecting the light. “You had plenty of chances to say that. From the time my dad was arrested until you testified against him, for two whole months, you were all lovey-dovey with Chloe, yet you wouldn’t even give me an explanation. Do you think we can start over?” “I only think of Chloe as a sister,” he said, sounding weak and pale. “But she never saw you as a brother. Every single one of her Facebook posts is proof of that,” I retorted. “I didn’t know about those posts.” “I don’t care. Ethan, what’s done is done. Let’s just end it here and leave each other with a shred of dignity.” “Sophia, for the past two months, I’ve been thinking… thinking about how to win you back… Signing the divorce papers was me acting out of spite. I never thought you could be so heartless…” Before he could finish, a phone rang, and my hands were finally released. Ethan pulled out his phone. The screen flashed “Chloe.” One second he was giving a deeply emotional explanation, the next he didn’t hesitate to answer Chloe’s call. I really couldn’t tell which of Ethan’s words were true and which were lies. “Chloe, I’m dealing with something urgent right now…” “What?” “I’m coming right now. Don’t do anything stupid!” Watching Ethan’s brow furrow into a deep scowl as he swiftly stood up. So even deep affection has two faces. I sneered inwardly. Free from Ethan, I couldn’t be bothered to engage with him anymore. I quickly scanned my face to open the door and got into the elevator. It wasn’t until the “ding” sounded that my heart finally settled. But my phone vibrated restlessly. I picked it up to see a text from Ethan: “I’ll come pick you up tomorrow morning. Wait for me.” I let out a silent, cold laugh and blocked his number. That very night, I admitted myself into the hospital. Partly to hide from Ethan, and partly because Liam had discussed it with me and strongly advised early admission. If I needed to leave, he would approve it based on my condition. But the truly ridiculous part was that the person waiting for me the next day wasn’t Ethan, but Chloe. I agreed to see Chloe because she said Ethan sent her to handle the transfer of the house’s ownership with me. But the first thing she said to me was: “Sorry, I was feeling down last night, so Ethan came to keep me company.” She was dressed to the nines, flawless from head to toe, her eyes brimming with smugness. But the dark circles under her eyes, barely concealed by foundation, couldn’t lie. Perhaps those dark circles represent other unspeakable secrets? I mocked myself inwardly for overthinking. “It’s fine. I should be thanking you for getting me out of a tight spot.” My calm response made her smile falter. She dispensed with the pleasantries and got straight to the point: “Sophia, even if my pregnancy was a lie, the person Ethan cares about most will always be me. Don’t think you can win his heart back by secretly getting pregnant!” With a smack, she threw a card at me. “There’s five million in here. Get rid of the child in your belly. If your dad manages to make it out alive, this money will be enough for him to live out his old age.” Unaware of how ridiculous she sounded, she looked at me with haughty arrogance. So, Ethan was telling the truth. Chloe wasn’t pregnant. But from her words, it was clear Ethan tolerated her behavior. “As for the PIN—” Chloe’s voice snapped me back to reality, a malicious smile forming on her lips. “It’s 180907.” “That’s the day Ethan flew tens of thousands of miles just to save me.” September 7, 2018, was the day Ethan changed his flight to end our honeymoon early. His excuse back then was a sudden emergency at the company that required his immediate attention. Maybe Ethan was such a good actor back then that I never felt insecure. Or maybe I trusted Chloe too much and never overthought it. I remember at my wedding, Chloe was my bridesmaid, and I personally handed my bouquet to her. “I hope you find your own happiness soon.” I had said it sincerely. At the time, Chloe’s eyes filled with tears, and as she took the bouquet, she broke down crying. I thought she was crying tears of joy for me, but looking back, seeing the man she loved forced to marry someone else must have been devastatingly sad. During the honeymoon, Chloe had been contacting Ethan intermittently. Ethan would always step away to take the calls. Because I trusted him completely, I didn’t bother paying attention. The last time, Chloe’s voice sounded incredibly panicked. One second later, my lips would have met his. But the moment the phone rang, he pulled away. The name “Chloe” flashed on the screen. Ethan almost subconsciously stepped back and answered it. Because the volume was a bit loud, I could faintly hear Chloe sobbing. Lost in the honeymoon bliss, I didn’t suspect anything. My first thought was that there was a massive crisis at the company that Chloe couldn’t handle. After all, she had been contacting him quite frequently during that time. Sure enough, half an hour later, Ethan looked at me guiltily: “I’m sorry, there’s an emergency at the company. I changed my ticket. I’m leaving tonight.” “I’ll go back with you.” “I promised to spend a whole month with you. Won’t it be too rushed if you come back with me?” Ethan’s face showed no signs of lying, his eyes full of apology as he reached out to stroke my hair. I naturally grabbed his hand. “A honeymoon is for two people. What’s the point of me being here alone? Besides, if we go back separately, my dad will definitely think we had a fight. There’s no need to worry him.” Ethan offered a small smile and nodded. “Okay.” Even though I also rebooked my flight, after landing, Ethan didn’t go home with me. He very “thoughtfully” called two cars. One to take me home, and the other, supposedly, to take him to the office. Only now did I realize that his actual destination that day was Chloe’s apartment. The memory playback in my mind ended. “I’m not pregnant, and I don’t want your money…” “Sophia!” Chloe interrupted me, leaning on the table as she stood up. “Are you still lying? If you’re not pregnant, why would Ethan pull strings to get his hands on your medical report?” Chloe’s words hit me like a physical blow, sending a shock through my body. “What…” “Sophia, do you know what I hate the most? It’s how you pretend not to know anything, when in reality, you’re just as calculating as I am, aren’t you?” Chloe’s face darkened. “Hello, Mr. Vance. Is it true that you donated 3.6 million dollars to the Cancer Foundation?” “Yes, because my wife was recently diagnosed with cancer as well. I hope to use this opportunity to build some good karma for her, and I hope all patients can be like her—actively seek treatment and never give up.” … A familiar voice suddenly came from the restaurant’s TV. Both Chloe and I turned to look. It was Ethan. He was smiling at the camera, and whether intentionally or not, he was twisting the wedding ring on his finger—the ring he should have taken off a long time ago.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “439058”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

I harbored a secret crush on Ethan for ten years, never daring to confess, until I was diagnosed with terminal brain cancer. I tied him up and slept with him again and again. His eyes red with rage, he struggled: “Harper! Let me go if you dare.” I thought that once I let him go, he would furiously strangle me to death. Instead, he fiercely claimed every inch of my body, day and night without rest: “Harper, do I look weak to you? How dare you drug me?” 01 I had a crush on Ethan for ten years. From my teenage years into adulthood. He lived in the house right next door to mine. I watched him grow from a green youth into an increasingly mature man. I was completely mesmerized by the mature, masculine charm he exuded, but I never dared to say anything. I was afraid that if I spoke up, he would reject me, and then we would be over. That was until ten days ago when I fainted at work and was rushed to the hospital. The doctor looked at me with deep regret: “Terminal brain cancer. It’s too late. There’s no longer any medical value in treatment.” I couldn’t just die like this. I hadn’t traveled the world yet, and I hadn’t slept with Ethan… My mind was flooded with the dark romance novels I’d been reading recently—all about twisted, forced love. I was about to die anyway; was it so wrong to do something drastic? I called Ethan and invited him over for dinner. Ethan was the CEO of his own company and very busy. But he still agreed to come over later. When Ethan arrived, he looked travel-worn, wearing a long black coat. He brought a gust of cold air with him. Only then did I realize that he had been abroad when I called. He flew all day, came back, and walked straight into my trap. I felt a twinge of guilt. I tried to find an excuse to make him leave, but he walked straight to the dining table and sat down. Before I could say anything, he started helping himself to the food. I watched as he drank the Tom Yum soup—which I had heavily spiked. He even raised an eyebrow at me while drinking. “Haven’t seen you for a while. Your cooking has improved.” Of course, it had improved. Because that was takeout from the highest-rated Thai restaurant in the city. Why takeout? The reason was simple: I was afraid my cooking would be so bad he wouldn’t eat enough for the drug to take effect. By the time I went to the kitchen to grab a bowl and came back, his eyes were already starting to glaze over as he sat at the table. I bit my lip: “Are you tired? Do you want to rest?” He nodded: “A little dizzy.” “Then go rest for a bit.” We had known each other for years, so all defenses had long been dropped between us. He obediently followed me to the guest bedroom. 02 Ethan fell asleep. I struggled to take off his coat, then stared blankly at his torso faintly visible through his white dress shirt. I pursed my lips, feeling a bit panicked and my mouth going dry. But I still didn’t have the courage to completely undress him right then. I rummaged through my closet and found a pile of ties I had wanted to give him over the years but never had the nerve to. Today, they came in handy. I used the ties to bind his hands and feet directly to the bed frame. After laboriously finishing all that, I lost my strength and slumped onto the edge of the bed. Looking up, I saw his handsome, peacefully sleeping face. He was very calm right now. But I could imagine what kind of fury would erupt when he woke up. Just like the fury he showed that one time his mother suggested we should just get married. I stared at his face, not even bearing to blink. I kept thinking that in a few days, I would never be able to see him again, so I just wanted to look my fill all at once. I had been a kind, selfless person for over twenty years. In the end, I insisted on being selfish just this once. Even if he hated me, it didn’t matter. That way, when I died, he wouldn’t be sad at all. His phone in his coat pocket kept ringing; it was his assistant, Liam. Without much hesitation, and afraid of waking Ethan up, I answered it. “Ethan was too tired; he fell asleep after eating.” Liam tactfully hung up the phone. Gradually, my eyelids grew heavier and heavier. I simply crawled into bed, hugged Ethan’s waist tightly, and fell into a deep sleep. I was woken up in the middle of the night by Ethan’s roar. “Harper!” I shot up into a sitting position. The sudden movement made me dizzy; my vision went black, and I fell heavily back into Ethan’s chest. “Harper! What the hell are you doing?” What was I doing? I propped myself up on my elbows and looked at him in confusion. “Guess.” Ethan’s face grew even darker. I kneeled on the bed, looking down at him: “Since you’re awake, let’s get down to business.” Ethan frowned deeply, both arms trying to break free from their restraints. I panicked a little, terrified that if he actually escaped, all my efforts would be in vain. I squeezed my eyes shut and threw my whole body onto him. “Don’t move! Listen to me!” Ethan ground his teeth in hatred. “Are you crazy?” I lifted my head slightly; my face was no more than four inches from his. “I’m not crazy.” “Then what are you doing?” “I’ve got you in bed. What do you think I want to do?” Ethan’s pupils contracted sharply, the disgust on his face impossible to hide. “Harper! I am Ethan!” “Do you have any decency left as a woman?!” I didn’t want to hear his accusations, so I grabbed something soft from the nightstand and shoved it into his mouth. Ignoring his eyes that looked ready to spit fire, I glared at him fiercely. “Shut up!” Ethan tried to break free, but found it useless. My heart was pounding wildly in my chest. “I’m going to kiss you. Don’t interrupt me.” With that, I yanked the gag out of his mouth. Before he could speak, I closed my eyes and kissed him viciously. I clumsily pulled at his dress shirt; the buttons were ripped off one by one and scattered onto the floor. Like someone fleeing an apocalypse, I refused to stop, desperate to find an exit. I had a chest full of pent-up emotions, which I released bite by bite all over Ethan’s body, accompanied by his low grunts. I remembered something my friend Chloe once said: When a man is in bed, he only thinks with his lower half. Sure enough, amidst my somewhat aggressive actions, Ethan actually didn’t open his mouth to curse me. Just a continuous stream of grunts. Afterward, Ethan’s face was flushed, as if he had suffered a great humiliation. I couldn’t bear to look and put on my clothes, wanting to go to the bathroom to shower. Seeing me leaving, Ethan called out to me. “Harper!” I turned to look at him: “What?” His eyes were red with anger. “Let me go if you dare.” I was stunned for a second, then gave a nonchalant smile. “I’ll let you go, but not right now.” 03 After my shower, I originally wanted to go back to my own room. But I remembered Ethan’s eight-pack abs; they were so firm. So, I went back to the guest room. Ethan wasn’t asleep yet; he was staring wide-eyed at the ceiling. Like a frog waiting to be dissected in an experiment. Seeing me enter, he cursed through gritted teeth: “Let me go!” I shook my head: “No.” “Do you have no shame?!” “What exactly do you gain from doing this?” “Didn’t your mother teach you to have some self-respect?” He struck a nerve. On purpose. I pursed my lips and said nothing, just silently walked forward. I kicked off my slippers, got straight onto the bed, and straddled him. He frowned and was about to curse me again, but I reached out and covered his mouth. “Shut up and listen to me. “I’ve known you for eleven years and liked you for ten. I’ve thought about giving up, but I just can’t accept it. “I know you don’t like me. People say whoever loves more should take the initiative, so I’m taking the initiative. “I just want you, and struggling is useless!” With that, my eyes red, I lowered my head and kissed him. Ethan’s lips were thin and cool, like they tasted of mint. I was already exhausted, but I clearly felt a change somewhere on him. I lifted my head, looked at his face, and smiled. “Why pretend to be some pure, untouchable CEO? You’re just like any other guy!” The sounds Ethan made throughout the whole process made me blush, and… extremely satisfied. When I opened my eyes again, Ethan was already awake. But thankfully, his expression didn’t show that he had “suffered great humiliation.” Seeing me awake, his voice was raspy as he called my name. “Let me go.” “No.” He looked somewhat resigned and started trying a different approach. “Harper, what exactly is wrong with you? How long do you plan on keeping me tied up?” I counted on my fingers, then flashed a number at him. “7 days.” Ethan was completely speechless: “Why are you doing this?” “No reason,” I said calmly, throwing on my robe and getting out of bed. “I just insist on staying with you for a full seven days.” I thought Ethan would be angry, but he laughed. “This is illegal imprisonment. You know how many things I have to do every day, how many people will be looking for me. If I just disappear like this, do you think you can keep me here until the seventh day?” I stood by the bed, unable to move a single inch. It was true. He was a grown man. If he didn’t cooperate, how long could I actually keep him here? “Harper, untie me, and I promise I won’t leave.” I froze for two seconds, then stubbornly shook my head. “I don’t believe you.” “Harper, I have very important things to do. You can stay by my side, but you have to let me out.” Ethan thought I would definitely agree if he made a concession. But I refused without a second thought. I told him very stubbornly: “Until the police bring people to break down my door, you can only stay here.” Ethan knew it was a dead end. His dark eyes scanned me from head to toe several times. Finally, he unexpectedly compromised. “If you keep me tied up like this for seven days, my hands and feet will be ruined. Is that what you want?” “No.” “But I have no other choice. I can’t fight you off, and I can’t stop you, so I can only inconvenience you like this. Harper, I swear on my grandmother’s name, I won’t leave for seven days.” Grandma Vance. I knew how important she was to Ethan. I also knew she was genuinely good to me. When she passed away, Ethan and I hid in a corner and cried our hearts out together. That was the first time I ever saw Ethan cry. “You need me to cooperate, otherwise it’s highly likely your door will be forced open by this afternoon.” Ethan’s attitude was very sincere. I also knew he was telling the truth. The CEO of his company going missing—how could that not be a major incident? I wanted to keep him, but I didn’t want to leave a bad reputation behind after I died. I could guess with my toes how nasty and outrageous the media would make the story out to be. I compromised. I threw his clothes at him, then freed his hands and feet one by one. He gritted his teeth, flexing his stiff hands, and ruthlessly criticized: “I never realized before what a crazy woman you are.” I kept a straight face: “There’s a lot you never realized.” He stared at the messy pile of ties on the floor and turned to look at me in disbelief: “Where did you get all these ties?” “Whenever I saw one I thought would suit you, I bought it. I accumulated this many without even realizing it.” Well, at least I didn’t buy them for nothing; they finally found their use on him. “Why didn’t you just give them to me?” I sneered: “I don’t make a habit of chasing after someone who acts like I don’t exist.” Ethan’s face turned slightly cold. “So you just forced yourself on me?” I blushed from my face all the way down to my toes. When I was acting crazy, I didn’t care about the consequences. But now that I was calm and hearing him say it, I suddenly felt incredibly embarrassed. To get a man, I actually tied him up. But I quickly let it go, telling myself that doing something like this in my lifetime made it all worth it. 04 Ethan was a man of his word. After I untied him, he didn’t try to force his way out. He just asked for my laptop. “Are you going to email Liam for help?” Ethan looked at me like I was an idiot. “Is your brain not working right? If I wanted to leave, would I need to call someone for help?” My brain wasn’t just not working right; it was completely broken. I handed him the laptop. I had already quit my job anyway, so I didn’t need it. Ethan sat on the balcony handling his work, while I curled up on the living room sofa, quietly watching him. The sunlight poured in at what seemed like the perfect angle, giving me the illusion of a “peaceful, quiet life.” Except this “peacefulness” was something I had shamelessly kidnapped him for. The afternoon sun was glaring, and as I watched, I felt sleep creeping up on me. I tried hard to stay awake, but eventually lost consciousness. When I opened my eyes again, Ethan was nowhere to be seen. I jumped up, barefoot, and panicked, looking around wildly. Until I violently pushed open the bathroom door. My heart dropped back into my chest from my throat, but my sanity abandoned me the moment I saw him. I lunged at him. I had no experience, so I just bit and gnawed haphazardly, only wanting to leave marks. My heart felt like a lost deer, crashing wildly against my ribs. I clung to him like an octopus with all my might, terrified he would throw me off. In my daze, I heard Ethan’s helpless sigh, and then a strong arm scooped me up. “You’re an absolute lunatic, but I like it.” Like what? Before I could process it, he bit down on my neck, and then the tables were turned. I was starting to believe Chloe’s words more and more. In a man’s eyes, love and sex really are two completely different things. Afterward, the thick fog of lust faded, and Ethan leaned against the headboard, studying me. “Harper, I seriously suspect you’ve been possessed by some sort of demon.” Having known me for so many years, it wasn’t strange that Ethan had his doubts. After all, I was completely different from before. “Yeah,” I nodded seriously. “A sex demon.” Ethan narrowed his eyes: “Why doesn’t the sex demon go after someone else?” I tilted my head and thought about it: “Probably because you were the only easy prey around.” I grabbed my phone to order takeout, but Ethan stopped me. “What? You personally cook to lure me here, use me up, and now you’re brushing me off with takeout?” I couldn’t be bothered with him. Half an hour later, the takeout delivery knocked on my door. Ethan watched the yellow paper bag in my hand, his pupils contracting violently. When he saw me pull out a tiny box of pills from inside, he completely lost it. He rushed over and grabbed my chin. “Harper! What the hell are you doing? You’re taking this kind of stuff?” I struggled to speak: “You want me to give birth to an heir for you?” Fury covered Ethan’s face, even the tilt of his eyebrows expressing his rage. His fingers clamped down harder. “You dare to pull a stunt like this, but you’re afraid of having a baby?” “You’re hurting me!” I struggled to break free from his grip, but I knew he was genuinely angry. So I made up a reason that sounded plausible. “Of course I want to have your heir, but I just remembered I took a lot of antibiotics for a cold a couple of days ago.” I frowned at him: “What? Are you hoping I have a kid so you can use it to blackmail me?” Ethan looked away, his voice chilling. “In your dreams, you greedy woman.” “Ethan, you don’t usually act like this towards me! I forced you, sure, but if you hadn’t been willing, I wouldn’t have been able to force you anyway!” Ethan was angry, and I thought he would just turn and leave. But he just slammed the guest bedroom door shut with a loud bang. Heh, quite a man of his word. It made me feel a bit guilty. 05 In my school days, I saw Ethan as the ultimate nice guy. Gentle and polite, but also great at joking around. When his family moved into the house next door, my parents were going through a messy divorce. He watched as I was dumped in the big house, and then my parents never showed up again. I sat crying silently on my front porch, and he was the one who handed me tissues and milk candy. Later, he transferred to my school, same grade but different class. From the moment he arrived, he dominated the number one spot in the grade and never let it go. When I was first abandoned, I was depressed for a very long time. He was the one who brought me lunch from home during the day and came over to help me with homework at night. And later, he introduced his parents to me. Mrs. Vance and Mr. Vance were so good to me, often acting like my own parents. Especially Mrs. Vance; whenever we went shopping for clothes, she would always pick out things for me too, and have Ethan drop them off at my house. I felt incredibly embarrassed. But Mrs. Vance would always smile and pat my shoulder: “Don’t be silly, Harper. I’ve always wanted a daughter, and I just feel such a connection with you. When I see something that suits you, I just want to buy it for you.” When Ethan walked me home, he’d pat the top of my head and laugh: “My mom just likes you. Just accept whatever she gives you. We know you don’t lack money.” It was true. Regarding living expenses, those two so-called parents of mine never shortchanged me. It’s just that they both seemed to treat me as a projection of their failed marriage, so neither of them wanted to look at me ever again. The Vance family was like a warm ray of sunlight piercing through my darkest times. His parents loved me like their own child. I knew his family were genuinely good people. I also knew they felt sorry for me. But now, I had tied up their son. Did I feel guilty? I shook my head. Not at all. If he wasn’t willing, I couldn’t have done a thing. When I thought like that, I was crazy enough to be somewhat delusional. Ethan went into the guest room and didn’t come out all afternoon or evening. I looked at the table full of food, having no appetite. I knocked on Ethan’s door. “Dinner’s ready.” To my surprise, he opened the door and walked out after just a few seconds. He sat down at the table as if nothing had happened. But he remained silent, every pore radiating a “stay away from me” vibe. However, his mood didn’t affect me anymore. Besides buying the pill, I had also bought a bunch of condoms. Deadpan, I held out the different flavors for Ethan to choose from. Ethan lost it. “Are you really this desperate for me?” I nodded earnestly: “Probably.” He snatched a strawberry-flavored box from my hand and laid rigidly on the bed. Maybe it didn’t fit the mood perfectly. But a line of poetry suddenly popped into my head. “May you gather as much as you please.” I worked hard on Ethan, and his movements grew increasingly intense. In the end, he bit down on my ear. “Harper! I seriously want to kill you!” I didn’t have the energy to speak. But in my heart, I thought, You won’t have to lift a finger; you’ll get your wish soon enough. … After three days of this, Ethan’s energy remained normal. He could still handle company affairs remotely with great vigor during the day, and even found time to mock me. I, on the other hand, started feeling unwell all over. So, I kicked Ethan back to the guest room. Ethan leaned against the doorframe, looking at me with a half-smile: “Bored already?” I couldn’t be bothered with him, so I nodded: “Bored.” His response was another loud bang of the door.

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After transmigrating as the mother of a Mary Sue novel’s female protagonist, I awakened a System. Beside me lay a babbling infant. The System’s voice buzzed with excitement: “You need to abandon her. Leave her with her alcoholic, abusive father. “She will grow up amidst hardship and abuse, blooming like a resilient wildflower in adversity, which will ultimately attract the attention of the heir to the Sterling Group. “Once they are married, you can come back to acknowledge her, and you’ll get to live a life of luxury in high society.” I looked at the giggling baby and stayed silent for a long time. “What if I don’t abandon her?” The System froze, clearly not expecting anyone to ask that. Quickly, its tone turned mocking: “Then she will become the most ordinary, average person. She’ll go to a normal school, work a normal job, and she will never catch the CEO’s eye.” I smiled. “That sounds wonderful, doesn’t it?” If all her suffering is merely to attract a man’s attention… Then not going through that suffering is a beautiful thing, isn’t it? 01 I kept the baby. No, she shouldn’t be called Bella Vance anymore. She is now Harper Reed. I ignored the System’s protests and changed her name from the original novel. She takes my last name now. I hate how girls in these novels are always given names that sound fragile, delicate, and overly sweet. Meanwhile, the male leads get names carefully handpicked from classic literature, brimming with depth and power. I love the name Harper Reed. Like a strong reed, standing tall and reaching for the sun. I want my daughter to escape the fate of depending on others and to live independently and freely. 02 When Harper turned seven, she started elementary school. She was cheerful and outgoing, loved by her teachers and classmates alike. Until one day, she came home crying. The French braids I had carefully styled for her were a mess. I asked her what happened. She choked out, “Tommy keeps pulling my braids during class.” I knew Tommy. He sat right behind my daughter. I met him at parent-teacher night—a skinny kid who looked a bit too sly for his age. I frowned. “Did you tell the teacher?” Harper nodded. “I did, but…” She hesitated. “But the teacher said Tommy only pulls my hair because he likes me.” I didn’t lose my temper in front of my daughter. Instead, I gently knelt down and said: “Let’s go talk to Ms. Higgins together, okay?” In the office, the teacher with the red-rimmed glasses looked up from her lesson plans with a teasing smile. She pointed her chin toward my daughter, whom I had seated further away. “Harper is a very pretty girl, and a lot of the little boys in class like her. You know how it is, boys at this age don’t know how to express their feelings, so they tease her a bit, pull a braid here and there.” She seemed to want to use that subtle smile to lump us into the same category. A category of women who had endured the same treatment but were supposed to wear it as a badge of pride. But as I remained silent, her smile gradually stiffened. I said flatly, “I don’t ‘know how it is.’ All I know is that my daughter was bullied, and this is harassment.” The teacher seemed offended by the severity of the word. She slammed her thermos down and sat up straight. “Ms. Reed, you are being unreasonable. They are just kids. What do they know about harassment? They’re just playing around.” “Playing around?” I repeated her words. “If it’s just playing around, can we move Tommy to sit directly behind your daughter?” It was an open secret that Ms. Higgins’s daughter was also in this class. The teacher, who had been arguing so vehemently, suddenly froze. And then I understood. It wasn’t that she didn’t know it was wrong; she just didn’t want to deal with it. Just like many hidden rules in our society. They are clearly wrong, but for hundreds of years, no one has stood up to say no. Because breaking the rules is much harder than following them. Tossing out a flippant “they’re just playing” is so much easier than putting in the effort to teach boys to respect women from a young age. But I was going to break that rule. For my daughter. And for the countless girls in the future who would have their braids pulled. To tell them: This is not love. This is bullying. This is harassment. “Ms. Higgins,” I called her back to reality. “You have two choices right now. Number one: you move Tommy to sit behind your daughter. Number two: you separate Tommy from my daughter, and you teach the boys in your class that the right way to like someone is never to bully them, but to respect and care for them.” The teacher suddenly deflated like a popped balloon. “I’ll choose the second one.” Satisfied, I took my daughter’s hand and left. As we walked out, Ms. Higgins indignantly called out, “Ms. Reed, micromanaging like this will affect your child’s normal social development!” Without turning back, I said firmly, “That is none of your concern.” When we got home, I shared my worries with Harper. “Sweetheart, if Tommy stops playing with you because of what Mommy did today, will you be sad?” Over the years, my daughter and I had a pact: always be honest and never keep things bottled up. Harper thought for a moment, then asked timidly, “Does that mean Tommy will never pull my braids again?” I nodded. “Yes.” She suddenly lunged forward and hugged me, her eyes sparkling. “Then you are the best mommy in the whole wide world!” Wrapped in her warm, soft little arms, all my worries vanished. I thought to myself, this is truly the best compliment in the world. 03 That night, after my daughter fell asleep, the System popped up. Ever since I took matters into my own hands and kept Harper, it rarely showed up. It was a silent protest against my actions. But to ensure our mission was completed, it would still occasionally pop out to remind me. Like today— “Host, our ultimate goal is to get the female lead’s Happiness Index to 100%. You need to work harder.” I was suddenly curious. “According to the original plot, when does she hit 100%?” System: “When she marries the heir to the Sterling Group, of course.” I asked, “And what about after the wedding? What is her happiness index then? Have you guys ever checked?” The System suddenly went quiet. And I knew. They had never checked. Just like fairytales that always end with “and the prince and princess lived happily ever after.” But what happens after? Does the princess ever get homesick? While learning strict royal etiquette, does she ever miss the days she ran free in the forest? Is she tormented by conflicts with her in-laws? Will the prince one day fall in love with someone else? All of these things… no one cares about. If happiness is fraught with anxiety and fear of loss, then it cannot be called true happiness. Because something so fleeting cannot support a lifetime. I asked, “What is Harper’s Happiness Index right now? Can you check?” Not out of a system-host’s ambition, but out of a mother’s curiosity. Is my daughter happy right now? The System disappeared for a moment, presumably checking the data. A few seconds later, its voice cracked, completely losing control: “54%… How is this possible?! This is the index she is supposed to reach only after enduring unimaginable suffering, meeting Preston Sterling for the first time, and being rescued by him! What on earth did you do?” I looked down at my sleeping daughter and smiled. “I just did what a mother is supposed to do.” It turns out, the one who saves the princess doesn’t have to be a prince. It can also be the queen. And I believe that in the near future, the one who saves the princess will be the princess herself. 04 A few years flew by, and Harper started high school. Her grades were excellent, and she showed exceptional talent in STEM, especially math. She ranked first in the entire grade in math almost every single time. But one day, she came home looking incredibly depressed and didn’t say a word. I immediately sensed something was wrong and asked: “Are you upset about your latest test scores?” Her voice instantly choked up. “A transfer student joined our grade. On his first exam, he took first place in everything. Including math.” I understood her pain. Having someone beat you in the exact field you excel at is definitely a hard pill to swallow. So I gently asked, “How many students are in your grade, sweetie?” Harper thought for a second. “Six hundred and forty-five.” I smiled. “See? So you didn’t just lose to one person. You beat six hundred and forty-three other people. That’s already incredibly amazing.” Hearing my comfort, her mood visibly improved. But she still looked a bit down. “Mom, our math teacher said girls just aren’t naturally good at STEM. He said even if I’m doing well now, by senior year, the boys will inevitably overtake me.” I kept my smile bright. “And which teacher made this brilliant deduction?” Which. Teacher. Harper sighed. “Our math teacher. He’s the Vice Principal.” The System gloated in my head: “Uh-oh, this one won’t be so easy to deal with.” I turned my head and pondered for a moment. “Sweetheart, do you want to transfer to a better private prep school?” Private schools were much more expensive, but the educational resources were visibly superior. Most importantly, instead of just treating students like subordinates, they treated them like clients. So if someone dared to say “girls aren’t suited for STEM,” I would have the leverage to argue back fiercely. But to my surprise, the one who panicked more than Harper was the System. It screamed in my head: “NO YOU CANNOT!!!” I closed my eyes, annoyed. “Why are you freaking out?” The System frantically explained: “That new transfer student is the secondary male lead! He is a natural genius. He barely tries and gets first place. The female lead is supposed to be crushed by him at first, but gradually, she’ll look up to him as a role model, and their feelings for each other will blossom!” I was confused. “And?” The System was practically tearing its hair out. “Don’t you get it? He’s supposed to be the guiding light on her academic journey!” I kept my bewildered tone. “Treating a rival as a role model just means my daughter has a great mindset. What does that have to do with who the guy is?” The System choked. “But… but…” It stammered for ages without making a coherent point. I continued smoothly, “Forcing the female lead to face setbacks and ‘grow’ isn’t loving the female lead. It’s just creating an opportunity for the male character to show off. At its core, it only glorifies the men. “True love is paving a smooth path for her, giving her the tools to step over everyone else and climb to the very top.” The System fell silent for a long time. Finally, it whimpered, “But in all the missions I’ve ever run, the plot is always like this. The female lead HAS to be misunderstood, framed by villains, and endure every hardship imaginable before she can rise from the ashes and find true happiness.” I shook my head, pointing out sharply, “Then think about the male leads in those stories. Aren’t they always heirs to massive conglomerates? The biggest hardship they ever face in their entire lives is a mild stomach ulcer. The female lead’s happiness relies entirely on his love. If he retracts his love, she loses everything.” I concluded, “These stories are categorized as ‘women’s romance,’ but fundamentally, they’re just male power fantasies.” The System finally stopped arguing. I had completely dismantled its logic. After a while, it sighed. “But if she leaves the secondary male lead, we lose a major plot device to boost her Happiness Index. How is the story supposed to progress now…” I didn’t answer it. Because at that moment, Harper had made up her mind. Her eyes danced with excitement, but she still hesitated. “Can we really? But private school tuition is so expensive.” I smiled and stroked her hair. “Of course we can. Mom has made quite a bit of money over the years.” Over the years, besides raising my daughter, I had been learning to run my own businesses. I didn’t just sit around waiting to die like the original character, hoping to become a rich mother-in-law once my daughter married into wealth. Harper’s eyes grew red, tears rolling down her cheeks. She hugged me tightly. “Thank you, Mom. I know you’re doing this to give me a better environment. I promise I will study so hard and make you proud!” In that moment, I thought, My daughter really has grown up. I used to see parents who loved to practice “hardship education,” constantly complaining to their kids about how exhausted they were and how much they sacrificed. But why do that? It just breeds unnecessary guilt. If you genuinely treat a child well, they will naturally feel it. I wrapped my arms around Harper. “Mom’s greatest hope isn’t about how high your grades are. It’s that you are genuinely happy.” 05 The transfer process was incredibly smooth. With the shadow lifted from her heart, she became even more determined in her studies. I also hired a private math tutor for her. She was a female grad student from MIT’s math department. Perhaps right now, in the STEM fields, there are relatively fewer women reaching the very apex. But that doesn’t mean “girls are inherently unsuited for STEM.” On the contrary, it’s precisely because there are so many questioning voices on this path that girls become increasingly lost and doubtful. More than just tutoring her coursework, my goal in hiring this specific teacher was to provide a role model. Even if very few people walk this path, as long as someone has done it, it proves the path is passable. If someone else can do it, then I believe my daughter can do it too. Because she is so brilliant and resilient. … The day Harper finished her SATs and college entrance exams, my company officially went public. Standing outside the testing center waiting for her, I asked the System, “Can you check Harper’s Happiness Index right now?” System: “One moment.” A few seconds later, it gasped, “76%!” I didn’t understand the scale. “Is that high?” The System’s voice was trembling. “Very high! Out of all the hosts running missions concurrently right now, your score is the highest!” At that moment, Harper came skipping out of the building. She grabbed my arm, smiling brightly. “Mom! The exams went incredibly smoothly. I’m confident. I guarantee you’re going to get a call from MIT admissions!” I smiled and took her backpack. “Oh my god, I guess I’ll be riding my little bamboo shoot’s coattails.” In the original novel, Bella Vance had to work multiple part-time jobs just to scrape together tuition while going to school. Despite working incredibly hard, she was still inevitably dragged down by external drama. She ended up at a perfectly average state college. In this life, I cleared all the obstacles from her path, allowing her to study with peace of mind. She was able to utilize her full potential, getting accepted into the top university in the country. Her life path was visibly widening. Even if she didn’t marry into a wealthy family in the future, she possessed the ability to become her own empire. The System sighed in my head. “Host, maybe your choices were right. You truly changed her life, and you’ve changed my perspective too.” I smirked, neither confirming nor denying. 06 Harper was accepted into MIT’s math department, just as she wished. She was invited back to her old high school to give a speech. On the auditorium stage, Harper stood radiant and confident. After sharing her study tips, she said: “…And finally, I want to say this to all the girls in the audience today. If a teacher ever tells you, ‘Girls aren’t suited for STEM,’ or ‘Boys are late bloomers and will overtake you soon,’ please, absolutely do not believe them. “I am standing here today hoping that in the future, when you start to doubt yourself and your abilities, you’ll think of me. You’ll remember that someone once got into MIT’s math department, and she was a girl too.” The auditorium erupted in thunderous applause. I saw with my own eyes several girls who had been staring at the floor, bored out of their minds, suddenly snap their heads up, their eyes shining brightly. I also saw the Vice Principal who had once belittled my daughter turn ashen. The Principal standing next to him suddenly looked like he had a revelation. As if he finally understood why, despite his desperate attempts to make us stay, he couldn’t change my daughter’s mind about transferring. Losing a top-tier student capable of getting into MIT must have caused him unimaginable frustration. But I didn’t know, and I didn’t care to find out. We had already sailed past those turbulent waters. 07 After Harper went off to college, I poured my focus into my career. We were both fighting hard in our respective fields. A nosy acquaintance once tried to advise me: “Why are you working so hard? You have a daughter, not a son. It’s not like you have to buy her a house or pay for a wedding dowry.” I gave a polite smile. “Wow, being your daughter must be miserable. Thankfully, my daughter is much luckier. The harder I work now, the less she’ll have to suffer in the future. Everything I have is hers, and it’s not just limited to a few houses or a wedding fund.” Her face paled, and she quickly shut her mouth. After she left, the System asked me, “Host, I don’t really understand human emotions. Did she say that because she has a son?” I shook my head. “No. She has a daughter too. An only child.” The System was surprised. “Then why did she say that to you? Doesn’t she love her daughter?” I was silent for a long time, unsure how to explain the complexities of human nature to a machine. “Maybe she loves her, but obviously, even though she gave birth to a girl, she still harbors a deep-seated preference for boys.” Believing that having a son means you have to hustle and fight, but having a daughter means you can kick back and relax. It’s the subtle misogyny ingrained in many people’s minds. In their hearts, they perhaps favor the phantom son they never had. As a result, they project those feelings onto sons-in-law or nephews. So, is it love? Maybe it is, but it’s not a complete love. After all, “where the money goes is where the love flows” is the ultimate, unchanging truth. 08 During Harper’s third month of college, my ex-husband showed up. The System told me that after my daughter got into MIT, our old rural county hung up banners celebrating the news. Unfortunately, my alcoholic ex-husband saw them. He did some digging and discovered that I had founded my own company and was making a fortune. So he went through incredible lengths to get my contact info, demanding money. But I ignored his texts and calls. He showed up at my office building, but security threw him out. He tried to ambush me on the street, but before he could even get close, my personal bodyguards pinned him to the ground. I worked this hard to make money precisely so I could keep toxic garbage like him far away from me. I smiled and told him that if he ever dared to show his face near me again, the people greeting him wouldn’t be licensed bodyguards, but local thugs with a burlap sack. My ex-husband was a coward who preyed on the weak. He nodded frantically, trembling like a leaf. However, not long after, the System informed me that my ex-husband had gone to MIT to find our daughter. I instantly tensed up. “Did he do anything crazy?” I was genuinely terrified that a scumbag like him wouldn’t care about my daughter’s future. He might literally hold up a protest banner at the campus gates or harass her professors and the dean. Making a massive public scene just to blackmail her for cash. The System reassured me: “He didn’t do anything crazy. Your threats terrified him, so he didn’t dare make a scene. He went secretly. This time he’s playing the pity card, claiming he’s destitute and starving, hoping Harper will get a few thousand bucks from you to give to him.” I breathed a sigh of relief. “Good.” The System asked, confused: “Aren’t you worried Harper will be manipulated by him? After all, you’ve never really talked about her dad to her over the years. She doesn’t know her father is an abusive alcoholic. What if she feels sorry for him?” I tapped my index finger on the desk, my eyes darkening. “I trust she has the ability to distinguish right from wrong… Even if she gets scammed this time, consider it a life lesson. It’s just a few thousand bucks. I can afford that tuition.” Not long after, Harper texted me. She said she was entering an AI Robotics Competition at school and needed $30,000 in seed funding. The System sighed in my head. “Looks like she caved.” I didn’t say a word. I just wired the money over. “Host, why don’t you just expose Richard’s lies? And aren’t you angry that Harper lied to you for her father?” I slowly shook my head. I once read a quote: Love is feeling a constant sense of debt. Perhaps that best described my state of mind right now. I didn’t blame my daughter for lying to me. I actually started reflecting on myself. Was it because I hadn’t given her enough love over the years that she would feel sympathy for a “father” she hadn’t seen in over a decade? Thinking of this, I texted my daughter: You’re in college now, entering competitions, your expenses are definitely going up. Mom is increasing your monthly allowance by $2,000. If you need anything, just tell me. Don’t be too frugal with yourself. Her reply was a sweet: Okay, thank you Mom, mwah! 09 A month later, I received a package from an unfamiliar sender. The recipient listed was Harper. That night, my daughter called me, brimming with excitement. “Mom, did you get the package? Open it quickly!” I hesitated for a moment. “What is it? It’s your stuff, I shouldn’t open it. How about we wait until you come home for the holidays?” “I specifically put the home address so you could open it yourself!” Hearing that, my reservations vanished. But when I opened the package, the contents left me utterly shocked. It was a certificate holder, and on the front in gold lettering, it read: “AI Robotics Championship – Gold Medal.” My daughter sounded incredibly smug on the phone: “Am I amazing or what?! Our team’s project even filed for a patent. Big tech companies have already reached out for consultations. We might be able to sell it for a million dollars! That $30,000 investment definitely paid off.” I was too shocked to speak. That money… she actually used it for the competition? “Mom? Mom? Are you still there?” Harper’s voice pulled me back to reality. I quickly responded, “Sorry, sorry, I just spaced out. You are incredible! Mom is so proud of you.” Harper giggled, but then her tone turned hesitant. “Actually, there’s something else…” I held my breath. “My dad came to find me a while ago.” I took a deep breath. “He asked me for money. I ignored him. I debated for a long time whether to tell you. “I was afraid you might feel bad for him, so I didn’t dare say anything. But then I thought about it, and you have the right to know. After all, he was your husband. “Even though you never told me why you two separated, I’m guessing he must have done something terrible to you. “But no matter what, whether you want to help him out or cut him off completely, I support your decision.” After Harper finished, she waited in cautious silence for my reply. Her tone sounded exactly like someone talking to a hopelessly romantic best friend. Terrified she would get hurt, terrified she would go back to a toxic ex. Yet, after immense inner turmoil, resolving to respect whatever decision she made. Though I didn’t want to admit it, in that moment, my eyes welled with tears. I used to think that being a parent meant nothing but giving. Giving unconditionally, without expecting anything in return. But when I saw that the seeds I planted had blossomed into such beautiful fruit, I couldn’t help but feel that every hardship had been worth it. As a mother, I was now the one being cared for, being understood, being supported by her. My little bamboo shoot had truly grown into a tall, resilient bamboo tree. I sniffled quietly, not wanting her to hear my emotions over the phone. “I understand. I won’t give him any money, and I definitely won’t get back together with him. Don’t worry.” As soon as I said that, Harper seemed to let out a massive sigh of relief. “I knew it! My mom is the smartest, most rational mom in the world!” After hanging up, the System, which had been silent, suddenly spoke. “Host, Harper’s Happiness Index just jumped another 5%. It’s at 81% now.” The tears I had just stopped fell once again. My daughter was happy because I was free from suffering. My happiness had become a part of her happiness. 10 During Harper’s sophomore year, the System suddenly alerted me: “Host, Harper just met Preston Sterling.” I was a bit surprised. “I already altered her life trajectory. Why did they still meet?” The System explained: “In the original plot, the female lead bumped into the male lead while working a part-time job at a coffee shop. Now, they’re schoolmates at MIT. They met at the back-to-school gala.” I couldn’t help but sigh. “Fate is like a sudden downpour. Those without an umbrella can’t hide, and those trying to get wet never catch a drop.” … Three months later. During our regular video call where my daughter updated me on her life, her voice suddenly turned shy. “Mom, I think I’m falling in love.” A name immediately popped into my head. But I feigned ignorance and asked, “Who is it? A classmate?” Harper nodded bashfully. “He’s a finance major. We met at the welcome gala. He’s been pursuing me for a while now. I think he’s a really great guy, very considerate.” “What’s his name?” “Preston Sterling.” Without changing my expression, I smiled brightly. “That’s wonderful! College romances are beautiful. You’re in university now, so Mom won’t interfere with your love life. The only thing you need to remember is to protect yourself.” Harper smiled sweetly. “I know, Mom.” After the call, the System asked in confusion: “Host, why didn’t you break them up before they got together?” I countered, “Why should I break them up?” The System sounded even more puzzled: “You put in so much effort to change Harper’s life. If she still ends up marrying Preston and fulfilling the original novel’s ending, doesn’t that mean all your hard work was for nothing?” I smiled and shook my head. “You’re wrong. I poured my heart into raising Harper just so she would have choices. If I interfere with her decisions just to achieve my own agenda, then how am I any different from those toxic parents who rip up their children’s acceptance letters just to keep them close to home? “Harper’s life is hers to decide. The only thing I need to do is support her completely.” I said from the very beginning, I just want my daughter to be happy. That’s all.

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I am known throughout the university as the hot-tempered rich girl. My favorite thing to do is spend money to boss my classmates around. A new transfer student couldn’t stand it and put me on blast online. As a result, I was cyberbullied, and the whole school panicked. Because I paid people $150 just to run errands. And $750 to argue with people for me. My classmates immediately grabbed their keyboards to defend me: [How dare you anger my sugar mama! I’ll fight you!] [I love being her lackey, mind your own business!] The transfer student was stunned. But the netizens went wild, flooding my social media comments: [Please, I want to be your minion too!!] 01 The day the transfer student arrived. It happened to be the day of our class’s basketball game against the rival class. Everyone was crammed together under the scorching sun, looking anxious. Except for me. I was sitting under the shade of a tree, wearing sunglasses, and eating a popsicle. In a thirty-foot radius around me, there were only three other people. One was holding a parasol for me, one was holding a portable fan, and the last one was holding my water bottle. Chloe Sterling appeared right at this moment, carrying her backpack. Wearing a white dress, she aggressively pushed through the crowd and asked indignantly: “Excuse me, did you rent out this entire patch of shade?” I lowered my head slightly, looking at her over the rim of my sunglasses, and readily admitted: “Yeah, I Venmoed them $30 each to give up this spot. I don’t like being squeezed with people in the middle of summer. It’s too hot.” The basketball court was only so big, and the area assigned to each class was fixed. It just so happened that our class’s section had a shady spot under a tree, so I booked it. I stared at her face and suddenly realized: “Oh, you’re the new transfer student the counselor mentioned. Since you’re in our class, you get a share of the shade too. Pull up your Venmo QR code, I’ll scan you $30.” To my surprise, not only did Chloe not pull up her QR code, but she also looked at me with disgust. “For your own selfish desires, you force everyone to cram together under the blazing sun. Aren’t you just acting like a stereotypical evil rich girl from a movie, using money to oppress people? This is too much! This is blatant bullying!” Hearing that last word, I laughed speechlessly. I instantly put away the phone I was about to use to transfer her money. Then I turned to ask the three girls surrounding me: “Am I bullying you?” The three of them hurriedly shook their heads in unison. The one holding the parasol even teared up. “Of course not! You saw that the three of us are struggling financially and were about to be unable to pay our tuition. Out of the goodness of your heart, you hired us to run errands for you. $300 a day for holding the umbrella, $150 an hour for fanning! We can finally pay our tuition! Now I don’t even have to ask my family for living expenses, which greatly reduces their burden.” “Queen B” was the nickname my classmates gave me. I thought it was cute, so I never objected. After hearing what they said, I turned back to Chloe and shrugged: “See? No bullying. They’re all very grateful.” When Chloe heard those numbers, her eyes turned red with anger. She almost couldn’t maintain her holier-than-thou expression. “My living expenses for a whole month are only $150, and you use that to tip someone for fanning you for an hour? You…” She glared at me fiercely: “The school won’t allow someone like you to do this!” With that, she stormed off angrily. Watching her back, I couldn’t help rolling my eyes. Sounding so self-righteous, when really she was just coveting someone else’s money. She was faking it. “But $30 each seems a bit low. It’s not easy for everyone in this heat.” I took a bite of my popsicle, thought for a moment, and turned around to drop $4,500 into our class’s group chat. There are about thirty people in our class, so that’s an average of $150 per person. As soon as I hit send, the crowd in front of me erupted. I don’t know who started it, but someone yelled, “I love you, Queen B!” In an instant, the entire basketball court was covered by similar shouts. Even the players on the court were confused, wondering which player had such an incredible cheering squad. The people from the other classes, upon learning what happened, could only look over with extreme jealousy. They wished they could immediately fill out a transfer form and live a blissful life of being showered with money by me every day. And Chloe, who hadn’t joined the class group chat yet, heard the cheers behind her, stumbled, and almost fell over from anger. 02 The next day during homeroom. Chloe followed our counselor into the classroom. When her gaze fell on me, she wore an extremely smug smile. Sure enough, Mrs. Davis stood at the podium, scanned the room with a sharp gaze, and said: “I’ve heard reports from students that a bad trend has appeared in our class recently. Paying classmates to serve you? Are you here to study or to be an emperor? I won’t name names here, but certain students should watch themselves!” Chloe puffed out her chest, looking triumphant: “Exactly! If I hadn’t told Mrs. Davis in time, she would still be in the dark! Some people really are the bad apple that ruins the bunch, turning a good campus environment into a toxic mess.” Watching this teacher-student duo put on a show, I curled my lip. Growing up, I hated it most when teachers said “certain students” or “some people.” Everyone clearly knows who they mean, but they insist on using these terms. It strips the person being called out of even the chance to defend themselves. So I had no intention of holding back. I stood up with a bright smile: “Mrs. Davis, why don’t you just say my name?” Mrs. Davis’s face darkened: “Audrey Miller, I was planning to give you a chance to reform, but I didn’t expect you to be so shameless as to admit it yourself!” I shrugged my shoulders: “Not at all. I stood up because I wanted to say that you’re right. Spending money to buy services is simply a heinous crime. Although I’m willing to spend the money, and my classmates are happy to provide the service—a free market—since you disagree, this practice must be banned.” The counselor heard the sarcasm in my words. She turned green with anger and pointed her index finger sharply at me. “Audrey Miller, don’t get too arrogant! You will write an essay of reflection. One thousand words… no, two thousand words!” I smiled and continued: “No problem, Mrs. Davis. But before I do, I have a question. Since this whole thing is wrong, shouldn’t my classmates return the money to me? After all, according to you, this is ill-gotten wealth. I’ll give everyone their dignity back, and everyone will return my money.” As soon as those words fell, the entire classroom went silent. The students who had been treating the verbal sparring between me and the counselor as a show suddenly couldn’t sit still. They immediately turned their hostility toward the two people at the podium. “What the hell? Why? I’m happy to buy water for Queen B. What does it have to do with the teacher?” “Exactly! And that new girl. I hate snitches the most in my life. She likes showering us with money, why are you being so nosy?” “I didn’t have money for tuition, so I asked Mrs. Davis for a low-income grant. She turned around and gave the spot to a student she likes. That student uses an iPhone and wears Air Jordans, and she knows it! If it weren’t for Queen B tipping us from time to time, I would have dropped out a long time ago!” “Yeah, I was able to get into the top ten in our grade last semester only because she gave me money, so I didn’t have to work a part-time job. Otherwise, my grades definitely wouldn’t be this good.” “When it comes down to it, it’s all Chloe’s fault. Stirring up trouble as soon as she joined our class. Get out of our class right now, you’re not welcome here!” 03 Hearing the uproar below, Chloe’s face turned pale. She bit her lip and stomped her foot: “Why are you all so ungrateful! I’m helping you regain the integrity college students should have!” It would have been better if she hadn’t spoken; as soon as she did, the arguments below became even fiercer. “Spit! So taking money means having no integrity? Then give all your money to me, and you can stay pure and untainted.” Chloe couldn’t argue with so many people, and tears were forced out of her eyes. She originally wanted to use the counselor to take me down a peg, but she didn’t expect to incite mass outrage. Chloe nervously tugged at the counselor’s sleeve: “Mrs. Davis, I…” Mrs. Davis gave her a comforting look, then slammed her hand on the desk. “Are you all rebelling?! Opposing me like this—do you still want recommendations for internships? Do you still want your credits?!” Instantly, the classroom quieted down again. Having managed students for so many years, she knew exactly how to manipulate them. After all, many opportunities and quotas were in the counselor’s hands. The students below looked at each other, not knowing what to choose. Offend me, and there’s no money to be made. Offend the counselor, and they feared they wouldn’t be selected for many future activities. At this moment, I let out a cold laugh and asked: “Mrs. Davis, what about you? Do you still want your job?” “What do you mean?” “I mean, you’re targeting me today, and it’s not just because of Chloe’s snitching, is it? You know my family is wealthy, and you know I’m generous with my money, but I’ve never paid you ‘tribute.’ You’ve been pissed off for a long time, haven’t you?” Mrs. Davis, having her true intentions exposed, revealed a momentary look of guilt. But she quickly adjusted her expression and reprimanded me loudly: “You need evidence when you speak! Is this how your parents raised you?” Bringing up anything else would have been fine, but dragging my parents into it instantly ignited my fury, and I exposed everything she had done one by one. “Isn’t it true? We have to pay a $150 class fee every semester, but you never publish where these funds go. Weren’t they all embezzled by you? And you secretly accept gifts from parents behind the scenes. Every position in the class has a clear price tag. Do you think we’re all blind?” My words sent a shockwave through the classroom, followed by gasps. Someone realized: “Holy shit, so the class fees were embezzled by her! I was wondering why our class paid ten times more than other classes.” “Are you an idiot? You’re just realizing this now?! If Queen B didn’t give us enough normally, who knows how long I would have had to eat instant ramen to make up for that $150.” Mrs. Davis’s face was now as white as a sheet of paper. In a panic, she stammered: “O-other teachers do this too!” The next second, she violently covered her mouth. But it was too late. That sentence proved everything I said was true. Long ago, she had hinted that I should send her gifts. My dad’s assistant had even prepared a debit card. After all, in their eyes, spending some money to make my life at school more comfortable was well worth it. But I refused. Because in my eyes, there’s a difference between giving voluntarily and being forced to give. I hadn’t reached the point where I needed to be manipulated by a counselor. From the moment this homeroom meeting began, I knew the focus wasn’t on judging me, but on the “apologize and hope the counselor won’t hold a grudge” phase afterward. Unfortunately for her, Mrs. Davis had kicked a steel plate. 04 After the homeroom meeting ended, all the students, filled with righteous indignation, reported the counselor’s bribery to the school administration. Often, parents give gifts secretly so their children don’t have to worry. When they asked their parents, they found out that almost all of them had been hinted at by Mrs. Davis. And they had all obediently given gifts. Instantly furious, they wanted to kick down the principal’s door and demand an explanation. So very quickly, Mrs. Davis was fired and replaced by a young woman who had just graduated. And because Chloe was a snitch, she was blacklisted in the hearts of all our classmates. She was completely isolated in every class; no one even wanted to sit next to her. Chloe blamed all of this on me. She even went around spreading rumors to students in other classes who didn’t know the truth: “That Audrey Miller acts like a tyrant in our class. I just pointed out her mistakes, and she actually led the charge to isolate me. Even Mrs. Davis, who spoke up for me, was pushed out by her.” The students who heard her complaints looked hesitant: “Huh? But I heard Mrs. Davis was fired for accepting bribes.” Chloe panicked: “Of course that’s the excuse they used! Our class is full of greedy people who were bought off by Audrey Miller’s petty cash. They twisted the truth, spread rumors, and forced out a good teacher just like that!” I stood behind the two of them, arms crossed, and sneered: “The one spreading rumors is you, right?” Both of them froze. After a few seconds of stiffness, Chloe turned around and scolded: “How dare you, Audrey Miller, eavesdrop on our conversation!” I rolled my eyes: “Please, this is a lecture hall, a public place. Your voice badmouthing me was so loud, it would be hard not to hear you.” Although Chloe was sitting in the last row, she deliberately raised her voice. She wanted the students around her to “accidentally” hear my gossip, get a bad impression of me, and then sympathize with her. Using other people’s private lives to spark interest and form cliques. Such a childish trick—I thought only elementary school kids used it. I knocked my knuckles on the desk and said to the girl next to Chloe: “Give up your seat.” Chloe grabbed the girl’s arm and glared at me: “Why should she? Don’t give it up!” I didn’t waste any more words and pulled out my phone: “Here, pull up your Venmo QR code.” The girl had clearly heard about my generosity. Her eyes lit up, and she quickly pulled out her phone. “Ding, $750 received.” The girl couldn’t suppress the excitement on her face. She quickly stood up, gave a slight bow, and said: “Please, have a seat!” Then she ran off to an empty seat in the front row. Chloe’s face looked like she had swallowed a fly: “Spit! Another money-grubber!” Then, she looked at me, taking my seat, as if facing a mortal enemy. “W-what are you going to do?” I chuckled softly: “You really look down on me and my money, don’t you?” Chloe scoffed coldly, showing disdain: “Glad you know. I came to college to study, unlike you, ruining the academic atmosphere. It makes me lose my focus.” “Then do you know that your scholarship is also my family’s money?” Our college’s scholarship is very unique. In other colleges, only top students or those with high rankings can get it. But in our college, the scholarship covers 100% of the students. And all of this is funded by my dad. His original intention was to hope that other students would take better care of me because of this. But now, this money was falling into the hands of someone like Chloe. As the owner of this money, I was pissed. Chloe raised her chin: “So what! I earned this scholarship through my own hard work. It has nothing to do with who funded it!” I smiled faintly: “Is that so? Then let me inform you, from now on, you will be the only person in the entire college who cannot receive this money. Since you treat money like dirt, having a little less shouldn’t matter, right?” Chloe’s face instantly went white, and her voice became shrill: “Audrey Miller, what gives you the right?!” With a cold face, I yelled louder than her: “Because this money comes from my family! Because you, blind fool, dare to spread rumors about me everywhere!” Chloe was a bully to the weak but a coward to the strong. Seeing my aura overpower hers, she immediately backed down. She stammered: “You… you… the counselor won’t allow you to act so recklessly!” With that, she ran to the office to complain to the new counselor. However, the counselor couldn’t do anything about it. She sighed: “At the end of the day, this money really is from Audrey’s family. If they don’t want to give it to you, what can we do? We can’t reach into her pocket and force her. It’s useless to come to me about this; it’s useless to go to the department head or the principal. If you want a scholarship, you can work hard yourself, get to the top of the class for finals, and get the one issued by the university.” Chloe’s face flushed with anxiety, and she stomped her foot: “But even if I get into the top ten, the university’s scholarship isn’t as much as Audrey’s family gives!” A big reason she transferred to this major was hearing that the college offered generous scholarships. But now, because she offended me, the scholarship was gone. And her academic ranking had slipped to the very bottom. It was a complete loss. She wasn’t a highly gifted student. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t get into the top ten to get the university’s scholarship. The new counselor massaged her temples: “Exactly. So why did you provoke her?” Seeing that this new counselor wasn’t protecting her like Mrs. Davis did, Chloe could only walk out of the office with red eyes. Later, I heard from her roommates that Chloe’s living expenses weren’t enough to cover her costs, so she had to take a part-time job. But she was afraid of being laughed at by people she knew, so she secretly worked as an internet cafe attendant in the middle of the night. Sleep-deprived, she became irritable, looked much more haggard, and her grades plummeted even further.

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My mom once dumped the richest man in our city. Eight years later, I beat up the billionaire’s son, and my teacher forced my mom to kneel and beg for mercy. The billionaire pushed open the door: “I used to treat you like a princess, terrified of you getting hurt. And you’re f***ing kneeling to someone?” “Chloe, whose face are you disgracing right now?” 01 I never had a dad, and I’d never met any relatives. It was always just my mom and me. She worked the night shift at a convenience store and often came home very late. So she asked our neighbor, Mrs. Miller, to set an extra plate for me when she cooked dinner for her granddaughter. Of course, it wasn’t a free meal. My mom paid Mrs. Miller every month. But Mrs. Miller would take that money, turn around, and buy me milk and fruit. She often sighed about how hard my mom worked and told me not to tell her. I nodded, and she praised me for being such a good girl. Honestly, I just felt that if I was a little better behaved, my mom’s life would be a little easier. At school, I was the most invisible student in the class. I paid attention in class, but I never stood out. My classmates sometimes called me a “little mute” because they thought I didn’t like talking. Actually, I just liked eavesdropping on their conversations. The most common topic for third graders was their families. Some kids would even tell everyone about their dad’s hemorrhoids or their mom fighting off mistresses. There was a boy in my class named Leo Vance. He was a new transfer student, and he was always complaining about his CEO dad. He said his dad had a temper like a rabid dog and a face as cold as a widower. He said his dad had no time for him, and usually, it was just the driver and the nanny at home. He said his dad only cared about money, and for his birthday, he just had his secretary pass along a black Amex card. … In short, he didn’t like his dad. But I envied him for having one. I don’t know why, but out of all the kids in class, I wanted to be close to Leo the most. Because I didn’t have a dad, and rumor had it, Leo didn’t have a mom. In a way, we were the same. While walking in line after school, Leo was complaining about how bad his dad’s cooking was. I couldn’t help but chime in: “The desserts my mom makes are really delicious.” I thought if he just said one thing back, I could bring him some of my mom’s desserts. But Leo turned his head and glared at me fiercely: “What’s that supposed to mean?” I looked at him in confusion. “You’re mocking me for not having a mom, right?” Leo shoved me hard, his face full of hostility. I fell to the ground. While I was still in a daze, our homeroom teacher, Ms. Evans, yelled from behind: “Audrey! Are you blind? You’re ruining the line’s discipline. Get up right now!” I had no choice but to slowly climb up and dust off my clothes. Ever since I spoke to Leo after school, I inexplicably became a thorn in his and his followers’ sides. Every time he walked past my desk, he would pinch my arm through my clothes. If we met face-to-face, he would slam his shoulder into mine. Not to mention, he was always surrounded by a group of lackeys. Every time I walked by, they would yell out of nowhere: “Audrey, the little mute. So embarrassing,” and make weird noises at me. I mustered up the courage to tell a teacher. But when I went to Ms. Evans’s office, she was sitting cross-legged, holding her phone, talking to someone. She kept saying “Mr. Vance,” smiling from ear to ear. I stood at the door for ten minutes, but she didn’t even notice me. The bell rang for the next class, English. I had to go back. The English teacher assigned an essay today titled “My Father.” I didn’t know how to start, so I just sat there awkwardly for the entire period. The sky outside was grey, looking like it was about to rain, making everyone feel heavy. However, Leo was very happy. He told everyone that his dad was coming to pick him up today. When school ended, a torrential downpour started, just as expected. Surprisingly, in the entire huge school, Leo and I were the only ones left waiting. The security guard brought us to the guardhouse. Leo looked terrible. He kept yelling into his smartwatch: “I don’t care! I don’t want to hear any excuses! You have to come pick me up!” Then he put his watch down and started stomping on the floor, “Bang, bang, bang.” I thought he really looked like an angry, unreasonable monkey. I don’t know how long it had been, but the Vance family driver finally appeared outside the guardhouse. “I don’t want you. Where’s my dad?” The little tyrant threw a tantrum at the driver outside the window. The driver awkwardly made a phone call. Not long after, a man holding a massive black umbrella walked over at a leisurely pace. The sky was still gloomy, and the wind was howling outside. Even though the umbrella shielded his face, you could tell the man had an upright, straight posture, possessing a calm composure that feared no storm. Leo had already jumped up, rushed out of the guardhouse, and sprinted into the man’s arms. The man extended a hand, firmly grabbing Leo by the collar. It was a pair of hands that looked powerful and reassuring—wide palms with pronounced knuckles. It looked exactly like the kind of hands a dad should have. The man set Leo down, held the umbrella with one hand, and tilted most of it toward Leo’s side. Then, without mercy, he smacked the back of Leo’s head. That crisp smack sounded like someone thumping a watermelon. I stared, a little dazed. Leo didn’t mind. Instead, he suddenly turned around and flashed me a smug, gloating smile. “Poor little thing.” He mocked me with a funny face. “Keep waiting by yourself!” 02 I simply stayed in the guardhouse. I had almost finished all my homework by the time the storm stopped. The security guard, Mr. Lee, even shared his dinner with me—a basket of delicious steamed buns. After thanking him, I walked back to the apartment I rented with my mom. I did a quick mop of the floor and read “The Magic School Bus” before my mom finally came home. The bedroom door was pushed open, and my mom peeked half her body in with a beaming smile: “Baby, why aren’t you asleep yet?” My eyes immediately zeroed in on her other arm, which she was hiding behind the door. “Mom! You hurt your left hand?” She scratched her head: “You’ve got sharp eyes, kid. 20/20 vision, I see.” I asked her what happened. “Something fell on it at work,” she sighed. “It’s fine now, but I can’t use my left hand for a couple of weeks.” “Can you rest at home for these two weeks?” I asked tentatively. “What kind of capitalist has that kind of heart? Give you a few weeks off, do you still want to keep your job?” I lowered my eyes, feeling a bit upset. “Ta-da! Look what I have here!” My mom suddenly raised her voice and quickly brought out a roast duck and a can of beer she had been hiding behind her back to distract me. “This is a gift from my stingy boss.” “Were you planning to eat it all by yourself?” I asked quietly. She scratched her cheek: “Am I that kind of person?” I had to help her recall the times after I fell asleep when she hid in the living room drinking boba, eating BBQ, and watching TV shows… Under the dim light, we shared the roast duck. I suddenly remembered seeing Leo’s dad today, so I asked softly, “Mom, what kind of person was my dad?” I knew my mom didn’t like talking about my dad. But after a moment of silence, she actually started telling me: He had a bad temper, spent all his time working, and only knew how to solve problems by throwing a black Amex card at them… “What did he look like? Were his hands big?” “Pretty big, and he was quite tall.” My mom burst out laughing. “Why are you asking this?” I wanted to hear more, but my mom’s voice went flat: “Kid, knowing this won’t do you any good. He’s already dead.” I could only look at her eagerly and ask one last question: “Did my dad love me when he was alive?” She stroked my head and said softly, “Go to sleep, baby.” I don’t know why, but I felt like she looked sad even while smiling. The next day, I got to school early and started writing the essay I hadn’t finished the day before. When I handed it in, Mr. Davis actually used mine as a model essay and read it out loud in front of the whole class. My Father My father often keeps a straight face, always looking unhappy. My father is always very busy and has no time to take care of me, but I know he is always by my side. My father is the best father in the world. Whenever it rains, he drops all his work to come pick me up from school. His hands are so big, just like his big black umbrella, able to shield my mom and me from all the storms in the world… After school, Leo found me, his face burning with anger: “You thief! You clearly wrote about my dad.” He reached out to push me. I quickly ran back, but he caught up instantly, pinning me against the wall at the back of the classroom, yelling fiercely: “Thief!” I suddenly got angry and shoved him hard. Actually, I was already taller and stronger than him. He fell to the ground, his face instantly turning black, and started cursing at me. I had never heard such vicious words before! Old grudges and new resentments piled up. Not only did I not let him go, but I sat on him, throwing a punch for every curse word he spat. By the time I snapped out of it, Ms. Evans had already rushed into the classroom. She screamed, pulled me off Leo, and held him close, comforting him for a long time. Leo pretended to cry for a bit, then said dramatically: “Ms. Evans, my dad entrusted me to you. I’ve always thought of you as a mom. I only have you, boo hoo hoo.” Ms. Evans turned her head and glared at me fiercely: “Audrey! Right now, immediately, call your mother to come to the school!” 03 “Does your daughter have violent tendencies?” Ms. Evans’s voice was shrill. “Look at what she did to Leo!” Leo immediately let out a few groans, pretending to be in a lot of pain. Ms. Evans spoke gently to him: “Be a good boy, Leo. I called your dad, he’ll be here soon.” My mom, with her left arm in a cast, was still wearing the green vest from the convenience store and a cheap hat with the store’s logo. She seemed to have rushed over, her bangs blown into a mess. She glanced at me and said anxiously, “Audrey is usually very well-behaved. She wouldn’t hit someone for no reason.” Ms. Evans raised her voice: “Are you saying I’m falsely accusing your daughter?” “That’s not what I mean,” my mom said quickly. “I just want to hear the children explain what happened.” “Audrey,” Ms. Evans turned to me coldly, “Tell me yourself, what did you do wrong?” I stubbornly kept my mouth shut. Ms. Evans seemed infuriated. “Fine, if you won’t say it, I will.” “You don’t follow discipline when lining up.” “The other students don’t like you. You have no ability to integrate into the group.” “And now you’ve even learned to beat up your classmates.” “Just now when I asked you, you didn’t say a word. You’ve learned how to be deceitful too.” “Let me ask you, do you even respect me as your homeroom teacher?” My mom looked at me, her lips moving: “Ms. Evans, there might be some misunderstanding…” Ms. Evans let out a contemptuous smile: “Since you insist on turning a blind eye to your daughter’s mistakes, I have nothing more to say.” She slammed her thermos onto the desk. “I can’t teach her. You should find a better teacher. Go ask around and see which homeroom teacher in this school is willing to take her. Transfer her out immediately.” At these words, my mom’s face turned completely white. Although she usually didn’t act like a typical strict mother, she was very serious about my education. Usually, if I scored below an 80 on a test, she wouldn’t hesitate to give me a spanking. Not to mention, education had always been more important than life itself to her. “No, please.” My mom panicked, begging her, “Ms. Evans, please give Audrey another chance. She’s young, she doesn’t know any better.” Ms. Evans turned her head, snorted coldly, and faced the wall. My mom continued to beg bitterly, saying everything she could to appease her. But no matter what my mom said, Ms. Evans just told her to find someone else to take me. But in a school, which homeroom teacher would accept a student another teacher rejected? “Please have a little mercy.” My mom raised her injured arm. “I promise I will properly discipline Audrey when we go home. Please don’t give up on her.” Ms. Evans turned back, but still picked at her: “How can I trust you?” My mom paused, as if making a firm decision: “Ms. Evans, I work long hours and don’t have time to pay attention to Audrey’s mental state. She’s always alone, and there’s no one to teach her right from wrong.” It was the first time I saw my mom speak so seriously. I stared at her blankly. My mom gripped the armrest of a chair and slowly knelt down, pleading once more: “Ms. Evans, the person at fault is actually me, her mother. I didn’t raise her well; it’s not Audrey’s fault. Please, give her another chance.” After she spoke, her usually thin, straight shoulders slumped deeply. I stared at her in shock. This woman, who was usually always joking and informal, was my mother; this woman, kneeling on the floor, humbling herself and begging the teacher not to abandon me, was my mother; this woman, who taught me to be an upright person and to study hard, was my mother… A hard life had never crushed her, but at this moment, she surrendered her dignity for my sake. I couldn’t hold it in any longer. I immediately hugged her shoulders and knelt down beside her. “I’m sorry, it’s my fault. Mom, it’s not your fault.” I had never felt such intense regret for doing something. Tears streamed from my eyes, and I felt my heart breaking into pieces. Ms. Evans also seemed startled. She lowered her voice: “I didn’t mean…” “I’m sorry, Ms. Evans,” I cried too. “I promise I’ll never hit anyone again.” Amidst the commotion, Leo suddenly shouted excitedly: “Dad, you’re finally here.” Ms. Evans jumped, hurriedly pushed us away, bent down, and quickly touched up her lipstick using a small mirror on the desk. The first thing I heard was a cold voice: “Leo, tell me yourself, what kind of trouble did you cause this time?” The office door was pushed open. The footsteps drew closer, and the man’s voice seemed tinged with fatigue and annoyance: “Confess right now, before I have to make you.” I felt my mom’s body stiffen. She turned her head to look, then immediately lowered it, as if she had seen something unbelievable. For a moment, I felt like she wanted to hide under the desk. “Mr. Vance.” Ms. Evans stood up, beaming. “You misunderstand. Today, Leo was the one who was bullied. Don’t be too hard on him.” The man stopped casually behind her: “Bullied by who?” “Her.” Ms. Evans pointed at me, sighing. “There’s something wrong with this girl’s head.” I didn’t dare to argue, I could only turn around, prostrating myself on the floor, and say, “I’m sorry.” The man squatted down. He looked at the bruises on Leo’s face, his tone completely flat: “Got beat up? Does it hurt?” Leo quickly let out a pathetic “Mhm.” The man frowned, but said mercilessly: “Useless.” After criticizing Leo, his sharp eyes swept over me: “A young girl who likes to use her fists. Didn’t your parents teach you any manners?” Stared down by his dark, gloomy eyes, I almost burst into tears again, so I bit my lip hard. “She really wasn’t raised right,” Ms. Evans quickly added. “I just reprimanded her, and her mom knelt down to apologize. Sigh… Mr. Vance, how do you think we should handle this?” “How should we handle this?” Mr. Vance slowly repeated the words, and anyone could hear the icy tone in his voice. Hearing this, I immediately straightened up, frantically grabbed the hem of his suit jacket, and said: “Mister, I didn’t mean it, I swear, I will never mess with him again.” Mr. Vance looked down at me, suddenly frowning. He pinched my chin with one hand, his gaze even revealing a bit of confusion and bewilderment: “Why do you… look so much like…” He didn’t finish his sentence. After a long silence, he just shook his head: “Ms. Evans, forget it.” Leo started screaming: “How can we just forget it?” “Then what do you want?” Mr. Vance’s tone grew a bit impatient. “I want Audrey to apologize to me in front of the whole class tomorrow.” Leo’s little mouth babbled on. “And last time she mocked me for not having a mom.” Mr. Vance’s face turned as dark as the bottom of a pot, while my mom’s face went completely pale. She secretly glanced at Leo, her eyes a mix of pain and inner conflict. She seemed to want to say something but bit her lip, burying her head even lower, her body trembling slightly. I was a bit worried and quickly squeezed my mom’s hand. “Enough, you little brat,” Mr. Vance raised his hand and grabbed Leo’s collar. “I think you really are asking for a beating.” “Getting beat up by a little girl is embarrassing enough, and you want the whole class to laugh at you?” Ms. Evans seemed surprised that the matter was dropping so easily. She pursed her lips and said: “Since Mr. Vance isn’t pursuing the matter, Audrey’s mom, you should apologize to him.” My mom didn’t say a word, trembling even more violently. Ms. Evans waited, growing impatient: “Audrey’s mom? Does muteness run in your family?” Mr. Vance finally seemed to notice there was a woman kneeling on the floor. He casually turned his head, and with just one glance, he froze. He let go of Leo’s collar and stood up instantly. “I’m sorry,” my mom finally said softly, her head still buried low. The man parted his lips, seemingly using a great deal of effort just to call out a name: “Chloe… is that you?” I didn’t know how he knew my mom’s name. “You have the wrong person.” My mom immediately turned her face away, but her left hand in the cast clenched painfully into a fist, as if she were enduring something. “It is you.” Mr. Vance stared fixedly at my mom, his facial expression a mix of crying and laughing, hatred and joy, his whole face twisting terribly. “Chloe—” He seemed to chew on the name, his eyes glued to my mom. “When did you get back?” My mom turned her head, refusing to meet his gaze. Even Ms. Evans realized something was wrong, her face changing instantly: “Do you know her, Mr. Vance?” “Know her? Far more than that.” He seemed furious, unable to bear it any longer, and pulled my mom up from the floor with one hand. “Eight years since we last saw each other, and you’re this pathetic, ridiculous mess?” “Chloe, I used to treat you like a princess, terrified of you getting hurt. And you’re f***ing kneeling to someone here today?” “Chloe, whose face are you disgracing right now?” “Get up!” Once my mom was pulled up, she quickly grabbed my hand, as if trying to rush me out of there. But Mr. Vance still firmly gripped my mom’s slender wrist. In front of everyone, this tall, intimidating man’s eyes actually grew red: “Chloe, we haven’t seen each other in so many years, and you won’t even look up at me?” He seemed to realize something and suddenly looked at me: “How old are you?” Inexplicably, I met a pair of eyes filled with disbelief. The owner of those eyes spoke angrily: “Chloe, is she our—” “Audrey is seven this year,” my mom interrupted. “She’s my daughter with my husband. Carter Vance, she has nothing to do with you.” She paused, her voice seemingly suppressing immense pain as she continued: “And you have no right to question me now, whether I’m a beggar or anything else.” I nervously glanced between them. Actually, I’m eight this year. I don’t know why my mom lied about my age. But I figured my mom must have her reasons. After hearing her words, Mr. Vance asked, crestfallen: “You… got married?”

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